#... and yes. they were mossy. and yes i slipped.

[orcelito]

I need to go on. A forest romp. With my dslr camera. So I can take pictures under leaves and flowers, moss on fallen logs, petals fallen into the dirt, the shimmer of flowing water, and maybe even little mud men I find along the way

I haven't gone on a proper hiking trip in a While. I miss turkey run state park

[ngayawneluoer]

playing with their hair

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ neteyam, lo’ak

you do their hair. that's it. just sweet fluffy domestic moments before I drop the angstiest fic known to man in a few days

word count: 1310

✧ Neteyam:

As you chilled on a peaceful afternoon, you noticed your lover looked very overwhelmed as he walked up and down around the Omatikayan stronghold with no particular direction. He probably seemed very busy to others, but you had learned to recognise his stressed pacing after seeing it so often.

"Neteyam!" You called for him, grabbing his attention. He looked over, a gentle yet tense smile blooming on his face. You waved him over to where you were lounging on the ground, back resting on a mossy rock.

He sat beside you reluctantly, though his leg shook with nerves to replace his nervous pacing.

"What's wrong, Ma Neteyam?" You asked, a hand rising to stroke his hair.

He sighed, leaning into your touch, "Just worried. I heard my father talking about a situation with the sky people, and I just feel a little useless."

"It is not all your responsibility, Nete. Everything will be alright; trust your father." You comforted, hoping your voice didn't let on how uneasy his statement had made you. This was about making Neteyam feel better; you didn't need to add to his worries.

You sat up on your knees to take a closer look at his hair. As you sifted through the braids, he looked up at you, a little self-conscious, "What?"

"Your braids are really grown out, love. When was the last time you did them?"

He blew a raspberry in thought, "Not sure… a while."

"Yes, I can tell," You said with a smile, "Wait here."

You kissed his forehead gently before getting up and scampering away in the direction of your tent, and Neteyam patiently awaited your return. He barely had time to think before you returned with a few small satchels and a wooden comb, and he chuckled lightly, knowing what he was in for.

You kneeled beside him, fingers fumbling to unbraid his hair.

You twisted gems and wooden beads you had made for yourself into his hair, and as you progressed, you felt his muscles relax, a low purr vibrating in his chest. As you finished off a few braids near the front of his head, he held them up to his face to examine the beads.

"Are these the crystals you found when you fell into the river?" He laughed, looking at the little purple gems you had made into beads and incorporated into his braids.

You rolled your eyes, "Yes. And here I am, lovingly using them on you even if you won't ever stop teasing me for it."

As you eventually finished the last braid, he shook his head experimentally, his braids swaying around. You moved to sit in his lap, smiling at his playfulness before grabbing his face and kissing his nose, "You look great, Ma Neteyam."

"You are so humble, aren't you?" He spoke, accompanied by a small laugh.

"Even without my expert braiding," You giggled, grabbing his hand, "You are the most beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you, my love." He grinned like a fool, planting a soft kiss on your knuckles, "Now turn around. I want to do yours."

"Oh no," You said sarcastically but obeyed and twisted to sit in his lap.

In response to your quip he teasingly pulled on a strand of your hair, not hard enough to truly hurt you. You yelped and smacked his thigh lightly, but relaxed into his touch and allowed him to play with your hair.

His gentle fingers raked through your locks, soft strands slipping through his fingers as you sighed at the comfort. He was never the best at braids, but after you had done his hair so sublimely, he only felt it was fair for him to return the favour. He opted for something simple: two large braids adorned with beads and feathers. They were slightly wonky and not as pretty as the ones you had done on him, but you still beamed when you turned to cuddle into his chest and thank him.

"Thank you, Nete." You whispered, revelling in the intimate moment, "And next time you're stressed, come to me instead of pacing around like a lost puppy."

He chortled softly, head resting on top of yours, "Yes, ma'am."

✧ Lo’ak:

It was midday on a long day of exploring the forest with Lo'ak, and the two of you finally took a break from the fatiguing hiking. Your backs rested against a tree in an enchanting clearing, finally at peace for the first time since Lo'ak had dragged you away from the Omatikayan village that morning. To your distaste, it wasn't long before Lo'ak became restless.

"Alright, let's go," Lo'ak ushered, beginning to rise to his feet.

You grabbed his arm and pulled him back down, and he landed back on the ground next to you with a thud, "Honestly, Lo'ak, we just got here. Give me a moment."

He groaned but complied, head coming to rest on your shoulder. You lovingly nudged your head to his before pulling him down to rest his head on your lap. Your hands began playing with a few of his braids, and with your soothing touches, he finally seemed to unwind and shut his eyes.

As your hands ran along his scalp, you felt the fuzz of growing hair and noticed the sides of his head where he had previously shaved were noticeably overgrown.

"Lo'ak," you muttered quietly.

"Hm?"

"Your sides are growing out, love."

He hummed in response, eyes still closed, "I'll do them when we get home," he drawled.

"I can do them for you." You stated, but he only hummed, barely processing your words. For someone so previously eager to get going, he sure seemed very drowsy.

You pulled out your hunting knife, the only blade you had on you right now. Your finger touched its edge experimentally, and you determined it was definitely razor-sharp.

At that moment, Lo'ak opened his eyes to see you sitting above him with the sharp knife. He quickly sat up, startled.

"Nah! I know you are not about to shave my head with that knife." He exclaimed, voice sounding almost panicked. He was always very precious about his hair.

You let out a half-suppressed laugh, "It's sharp enough! And I promise I won't cut you."

"No."

"Please?"

He sighed, giving in to your pleading eyes, "If you scalp me, I will literally kill you," He said, though his threat didn't carry much weight as he laid back on your lap, facing away from you to give you access to the left side of his head.

It was going well, but when you put too much pressure, Lo'ak panicked, flinching away with a hiss. He slapped your knee, "What the hell are you doing?"

You scoffed, throwing your knife down to the grass to slap the back of his head, "What are you doing, you skxawng? I was doing fine."

He slowly felt around his scalp, golden eyes sharpened in a glare. When he came to the conclusion that he had indeed overreacted, he admitted defeat with a huff and returned to your lap.

"Just hurry up."

"You should be nicer…." You spoke, focusing on the task at hand, "to the person holding a knife to your head."

He snuffed and turned his head slightly to bite your thigh.

You yapped, pulling away from him to avoid slashing him, "Lo'ak! It's like you want me to carve a hole into your head!"

He slightly laughed, though he masked it to avoid annoying you further, "Alright, alright. I'll behave."

When you were finally finished, he sat back up next to you and felt his head. He smiled softly, "I guess it's not too bad."

You rolled your eyes amusedly, shoving his arm, "You're impossible."

He wrapped an arm around you, planting a peck on your cheek, "Okay, okay. Thank you."

[tiredmamaissy]

Insatiable

Neteyam's First Rut: Special Episode I

This takes place between ‘The Heat Within’ & ‘A Synchronous Fever’ in the ‘Neteyam’s First Rut’ series.

Neteyam's mate's POV of 'Inextinguishable'.

Read Special Episodes: Part II (Twin Flame) & Part III (Ashes) - links are also below.

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Main Characters: Neteyam Sully (20) x Avatar Omatikaya Reader y/n (19) [will be referred to as Neteyam’s mate or n/m]

Supporting Characters: Lo’ak Sully (19) x Na’vi Omatikaya Reader y/n (19) [will be referred to as Lo’aks mate or l/m]

Warnings: extreme nsfw, heavy smut, heat cycle, dom neteyam, lil bit of fluff, profanity, usage of ‘slut’, marking

Word Count: 6k

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: This is Neteyam x Reader’s POV of ‘Inextinguishable’. Enjoy ♡

“Oh shit.” You gasp, grabbing Neteyam by the arm. “Neteyam... isn’t that Lo’ak’s mate?” you point, unable to look away from the curled-up figure on the ground.

Neteyam quickly turns around, hearing the fear in your voice.

“What? Where?” he scans the forest in a hurry, finally seeing her lifeless body on the soft flora. “Shit. It is.”

The strong scent of lionberry and mossy wood wafts past you both. For you, the scent is almost calming, if you could wear it like a perfume, you would. But it clearly had a different effect on Neteyam, as you watch your mate rush over to her, scooping her up in his arms and carry her back to his banshee. For a minute you feel something new, something Neteyam has never made you feel before – jealous. 

It was silly; she was clearly not herself. But you had only seen Neteyam act like that for you, act so protective. Granted, it’s what you would have told him to do had he not done it himself. Shrugging it off, you climb up on his ikran, seating yourself behind her, supporting her limp body with yours.

“She is in heat, isn’t she Nete?” you ask him, smelling her scent grow stronger.

“Definitely.” He states through gritted teeth.

It even sounds like he’s restraining himself in some way. As if he’s trying not to pounce on her right here, right now. Your heart feels like it’s caving in, being crushed under the pressure of the weight of his single word, ‘definitely’. You look down, to see her flushed cheeks, the beads of sweat dripping down her chest... the arousal of her body.

You can’t deny it, her scent is enticing – addictive, even. Her wet hair plasters itself against your chest as she leans back into you, snuggling into your bosom. Watching her rub her face into your breast makes your heart thump, hard. Surprised by your own body’s reaction to her carnal state, you look at Neteyam, wondering if he feels the same way.

He must feel the same, right? If not... worse.

Slipping under the trance of her heat, your breath becomes raggedly, and loud. You were practically panting, feeling her feverish body warm yours up, too. It’s all too overwhelming – the warmth of her body, the sweat coating your chest in a layer of sheen, her erotic expression... the little, sweet noises escaping her flushed lips – her scent.

It makes you... tense. To the point where even Neteyam notices.

“Are you alright, my love?” he asks, holding his breath.

The choked-up voice brings you back to reality in an instant. You see his hand reach behind him, searching for your thigh, almost brushing against hers instead. Moving your hand from her waist, you grab his hand and rest it on your clammy thigh.

“Yes. Just... hurry.” You pant lightly. “She - she doesn’t look too great.”

She really didn’t, but the truth is that you’re not feeling all that great either.

“I know. I know. We are almost there.” He reassures you, squeezing your thigh before letting go.

----

Neteyam carries her quickly to the tent, placing her gently on the woven mat. You both look down at her body, glistening from sweat, as she shakes her head from side to side. Her little whimpers are turning into lengthy groans the more time passes. Neteyam is visibly uncomfortable, shielding his nose with his forearm and backing up to the door.

“What is it? Are her pheromones too much for you? Too arousing?” you spit, letting the jealousy overcome you.

He grits his teeth and tightens his brows. “What? Y/n. No.” he snaps at you. “...they are making me sick.” He confesses, backing up even more. “I cannot stay here. I am going to call for Lo’ak.”

As bad as it sounds, you feel better knowing that he feels sick rather than hot and bothered by your sister-in-law.

“Sorry. I – I think she is affecting me, too.” You babble, feeling lightheaded.

“Sorry, ma’ yawne [beloved]. I must go.” He grimaces, walking swiftly out the door.

Left alone with her, you scan her body thoroughly. She’s drenched in sweat, yet shivering violently as if she were cold. Sympathizing with her, you sweep back the stands hair stuck to her forehead and wipe her down with a wet cloth.

Is this what I look like when I’m in heat, too?

You know the cloth is useless and that only Lo’ak could provide any sort of relief for her, but it’s all you could do for her. She’s practically writhing in pain, mumbling under her breath, yearning for her mate. You know the feeling all too well, you could really empathize with her. It feels as if you’re going through it too, just by watching her curl into a foetal position.

It must be burning... there, now. You pity her, staring at her clutching her womb.

Feeling woozy, you mirror her movements, wrapping your hand around your abdomen, too.

“I know what you are feeling. It is not nice. But do not fret...” you ring out the cloth, “...Neteyam has called for your mate.” You whisper, wiping down the back of her neck. “He will fix you right up... okay?” you ask, not really expecting an answer.

“Mmm... mhm.” She moans between pants, leaning into your touches as she backs herself up onto you.

You let out a breathy chuckle, smiling down at her. “Not me, silly. I can’t do much for you. So, sorry about that...” you glance at her tail, coiling around your leg. “Hang in there... Lo’ak is almost here, I am sure of it.” You pat her thigh before dipping the cloth back into the water.  

----

“Lo’ak. Where are you? Why did you leave her alone?” Neteyam shouts, holding the button on his throat microphone.

“What? What do you mean? I was with her an hour ago, bro.” Lo’ak shouts back.

Neteyam doesn’t answer, as he breathes through a wave of nausea, swallowing the saliva that pools in his mouth.

“Bro?” Lo’ak repeats.

“Come quick. She doesn’t look good.” Neteyam states quickly. “She is with my mate... I had to leave the room. Her pheromones are making me nauseous.” he takes a deep breath, hearing nothing but silence.

“Lo’ak.” Neteyam spits.

“Just. Shut up. I’m almost there.” Lo’ak growls.

Just as he said – Lo’ak lands with a loud thump.

Neteyam watches his brother dismount his ikran, embodying that of a very pissed off thanator. He braces for impact, feeling too queasy to properly defend himself from his brother’s uncontrollable temper.

“Lo’ak. Calm, brother.” Neteyam snaps, staggering from the wooziness.

Fortunately for Neteyam, the faint moan of his mate pierces the air, causing the thanator to lock onto a new target. Lo’ak pushes past Neteyam, shoving him out the way. Neteyam sits down and puts his head between his legs, hoping it’ll ease up the light-headedness.

----

Lo’ak opens the door, making you jump in your skin. You watch as he’s overpowered by his mate’s pheromones, covering his face with his hand as he makes his way into the room. He rushes over and kneels before his mate, who’s now under a sheeting, drenched with her sweat. He lifts his head briefly to give you a quick nod – as if to say, thank you. You shoot him a smile, before getting up to leave the tent to join your mate.

“Ma’ teyam?” you call for him, not seeing him in your direct line of sight.

“Down here.” He mutters, head still between his legs.

You gasp from hearing his voice, still on edge from l/m's heat. Looking at your feet, you see Neteyam sitting down on a branch next to the tent.

 “Oh, my baby. Is it that bad?” you ask, feeling sorry for him.

“Mmmn. Feel like ‘m gonna be sick.” He pants, drooling from the excess saliva flooding his mouth.

The sight is like stones in your heart.

“Alright, alright. You’re okay. I am here now, Nete.” You hum as you seat yourself next to him and rub circles into his back. “Take a deep breath with me.” You breathe with him, holding his braids out the way.

It seems to be a thing where you care for others, today.

Not that you minded it, you were a healer in training anyways. But you couldn’t deny your own uneasiness. Your own wooziness.

The scent of lionberry and mossy wood completely inundates you and Neteyam as Lo’ak walks past with his mate in his arms. Before you know it, Neteyam is dry heaving, trying his best not to throw up.

“Okay, okay. We gotta’ go.” you insist, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “Come on. Up we go, Nete.” You grunt, struggling to stand up with this dead weight on your shoulder.

Although you didn’t have the strongest frame, your legs feel significantly weaker. You put it off to this entire ordeal. Snaking your hand around his waist, you pull him up with you, supporting him as you walk towards your shared tent. He really wasn’t carrying much of his weight, or at least that’s how it felt.

“Walk with me, ma’ teyam.” You huff, feeling his braids swing against your face as he makes feeble tempts to walk to the tent. “Almost there. Just a few more steps.”

He groans, squeezing his eyes shut as another wave of nausea washes over him, stopping him in his tracks. You hold your position, supporting him on your wobbly legs whilst he catches his breath.

“Sorry, y/n.” he groans between raggedy breaths.

“For what? Being sick?” you laugh, “Don’t be.”

“No. For earlier... I hurt your feelings, didn’t I?” he looks up at you through his knitted brows, with big glossy eyes.

His eyes always made you fold in two, and he knew it. You brush it off, rolling your eyes and shaking your head slightly.

“Psh. Nah. I have no idea what you are talking about.” You smile, nudging him towards your shared hammock.

“I am serious, I can tell. You are my mate, after all.” He huffs, walking through the doors of your tent.

“Shh. It’s fine, my love.” You mutter, lowering him on the floor. “Who knew a little pheromone would make a big man like you crumble.” You giggle, lightening the mood.

Neteyam pulls you towards him, causing you to fall into his warm chest. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, snuzzling into you as he takes a deep breath, inhaling your sweet scent.

“Yours do.” He hums, rubbing his face against your supple skin. “I crumble monthly... for you.” he glances up at you before moving up to your collarbone.

Maybe it was the jealousy you felt earlier, or perhaps it was Lo’ak’s mates overpowering scent, but Neteyam’s innocent touches are sending shivers down your spine. It feels so good – so right. You can’t help but melt into him, rubbing your cheek against his braids, also inhaling his natural scent.

“Thank you, my beloved.” He smiles into your collarbone, sliding his hands up your waist.

“For?” you moan, feeling dizzy.

“Your pheromones. They are making me feel better.” He mumbles into your chest, feeling an immense amount of relief.

The woozy feeling is too intense to ignore anymore. It’s starting to affect your hearing, making Neteyam’s voice into a low echo.

“Hmm?” you hum, not quite understanding what he’s babbling on about.

“When did you learn how to control your pheromones?” He asks, kissing the fleshiness of your breasts.

“I – I don’t know what you are saying.” You moan softly, pushing your chest against him. “I mean... what you’re talking about.” You swallow your spit, struggling with your words. “Nete. I don’t feel so well.” you confess, now seeing two of him kissing your chest.

He looks up at you, seeing your dazed expression. His eyes bulge at the sight, knowing he’s seen this look on your face before – like two weeks ago to be exact.

“Can her heat make me sick, too?” you whisper, although it comes out more as a soft whimper.

“My love... did you not get your heat this month already?” he questions you, already knowing the answer.

“Mmmn, were you not there my nete?” you moan softly, mounting your mate.

He watches as you crawl on top on him, sitting on his pelvis as you wiggle around to find a more comfortable position. Using the back of his hand, he feels your forehead. Sure enough, you're burning up.

“You feel hot, like you have a fever.” He whispers, dropping his hand back down to your waist.

“Mhm... mhm. Feels that way. Think I’m sick, like you.” you hum, your head collapsing into his neck.

“I do not think so, sweetheart.” He chuckles huskily, sliding his hands up to your breasts and kneading them gently.

���I think you are in heat, my little one.”

Pulling back, you look down at him with heavy eyes. “W-what?” you breathe.

“Mhm.” He hums, bucking his hips into you suddenly. “I can smell it.” He looks down at your pelvises rubbing against one another – sticky from your slick.

“I can feel it.” He growls, snapping his gaze back up to yours.

For a moment, you think about how Lo’ak's mate must be feeling. Is it like how you feel now? Or is more intense? You think back to the banshee ride to hometree, about how her hot body nuzzled into yours, heating you up too... how her little mewls and moans filled your ears – how her scent put you on edge.

“Did you like her scent?” you ask breathlessly, trying to recall how it smelled.

Neteyam looks up at you dumbfounded, to be met with your intoxicated expression.

“Yep. You are definitely in heat if you are asking such a question.” He laughs at the fact that you’ve already forgotten what the last hour has been like for him.

Trailing your body with his eyes, he takes in the sight of your sweaty skin, your stiff nipples poking through your top... your flushed cheeks – your lustful facial expression. It dawns on him that you’re reminiscing about Lo’ak’s mate in heat. Now he’s the one who’s jealous.

What better a thing to cause him to succumb his territorial urges?

“Why? Did you?” he breathes, bucking his hips once more – even harder.

You bite your tongue, afraid to admit your true feelings to your mate. That, yes, you were aroused by another woman’s pheromones. They excited you, just like they put you in heat.

“Hmm?” Neteyam lets out a throaty growl, sliding his hands to your hips to squeeze them harshly. “Did you?!” he thrusts into you, making your tender breasts bounce.

“Ugh! F-fuck...maybe.” you confess through strained whimpers, grinding into the hard imprint under his loincloth.

This riles Neteyam up. The thought of you being all hot and bothered by another person, another woman, in heat at that... makes him – horny.

He didn’t quite understand it, he was confused, even. Just a second ago he was jealous, and ready to fuck the sense back into you. But now? The mere thought of the flesh between your legs dampening due to her scent... drives him feral.

“Yeah? And now I have to clean up this mess...” he growls, shoving his hand between your slick covered legs. “...such a fucking slut.” He mumbles, pushing your loincloth to the side and ramming two digits deep inside your slippery cunt.

Under the trance of your heat, Neteyam surrenders to his animalistic urges, ripping the flimsy cloth that covers your breast off your chest with his free hand. He takes your nipple into his mouth in a hurry, nipping at it with his teeth. You yelp out, feeling pleasure from his rough fingering and from the pain in your breast, causing him to pop off your nipple.

“T-take this off me, Nete.” You moan, tugging at the band of your loincloth as you grind even harder into his fingers.

“I want you to beg for it. Beg for me” he demands, hooking his fingers right into your sweet spot.

“Oh! Oh Neteyam!” you cry out, feeling your eyes well up with tears from how good his fingers feel. “Please... I want you inside me!”

“Fuck. Why am I even stretching you?” he hisses, yanking his fingers out of your cunt. “You don’t even fucking need it.”

He raises his hand in front of his face, pulling apart his fingers to reveal thick strings of slick connecting them together. Hurriedly taking his fingers into his mouth, he sucks your sweet, sweet slick clean off his digits, swallowing it hungrily.

Without wasting another second, he rips your loincloth into two, completely deeming it unwearable. He throws the torn, raggedy cloth to the side, gripping you by your hips and forcibly rubbing your hot slit against his loincloth.

His eager movements make you whine loudly, as you make poor attempts to take his covered cock inside of you – desperate for your release. The itchiness inside your womb is unbearable and too deep for just his fingers to scratch. You just want to ram his entire length inside you and grind your hips into his pelvis to satiate the itch.

“Good Eywa. Look at you...” he grunts, “... trying to fuck me through my loincloth.” He lets loose a breathy laugh, watching you actually get the tip in.

“Please... it’s so itchy. Neteyam! I need it. ‘ts burning... Please. P-please!” you beg loudly, shoving your hips down onto him.

“Always talking about your itch, huh? Always so needy...” he hums, ripping his own into two before throwing it into the pile of torn up rubbish.

His cock springs up, slapping against your cunt, making you jolt from the sudden raw touch.

“I – I, oh! Nete. Ugh... just... ngh! do it...” you sob needily, feeling the heat of your body take over.

It feels like your head is spinning, as the room moves rapidly around you, burring your vision completely. Your raggedy breaths turn into heavy pants, silently begging your mate to hurry. You can’t see properly, much less form a rational thought, or say a proper sentence.

“I said...” he digs his nails into your hips, “... I want to hear you beg for me, little one.” He growls, sliding your hips up and down against his shaft, coating it with your thick slick.

The stiffness of his cock rubbing against your clit is like pure bliss, like you could cum from just this. You’re so focused on the feeling that you can’t even hear the echo of his voice anymore. Picking up the pace with your hips, you rock back and forth, rubbing your hot, sticky clit against his member.

“Beg!” he shouts, bringing you back to reality.

“Fuck! Please!” you sob, tears now streaming down your face. “...please, baby. I’m losing it. I need you.” you quiet down into whimper.

Feeling sorry for you, he squeezes your hips and lifts you high enough for him to position his cockhead right at the entrance of your hole. He lingers there, taking a second to look into your watery, drunk eyes.

“Mawey, my good girl. I’m going to sort you out, now.” he moans, shoving your hips down onto his cock, watching his entire length disappear into your tight, wet cunt.

“Oh, fuck! Yes, yes, yes!” you scream, finally scratching the itch with his cock, rolling your hips around in circles.

“I know. I know, baby.” He hums, allowing you to use him however you see fit.

Neteyam knows exactly how to deal with you - how to calm you, even without his knot, although that’s what you need the most. He’d withhold it from you, until you were a sobbing mess on your knees begging for it.

It usually meant your heat would be longer – more drawn out, but that’s okay because you had your mate with you. He has the stamina to keep up with you, unlike Lo’ak. He worried for his brother and tried to give him a few lessons some time ago in preparation for his mate’s heat, but he didn’t seem very interested.

‘The main thing is to start slow, or you’ll burn up with her.’ His own voice echoes in his head.

He sets a lazy rhythm, pushing his cock as deep as it can go inside you, before pulling out half way and stuffing you all over again. His languid thrusts were enough to keep the emptiness at bay, and deep enough to scratch that maddening itch.

Barely enough.

Your heat’s been induced by another na’vi’s pheromones, jumping starting it a week earlier to sync with hers. It just so happens that this is her first heat – the most intense, hottest heat. It feels like you’re first heat, all over again. The infernal blaze that flickers deep in your chest grows bigger, menacing – insatiable.

“Mmnh! No... ‘tis not enough! Deeper, deeper!” you beg.

You lift your legs to squat on his pelvis, hoping the position will open you up more so that you can drill his hot cock deeper inside of you. Neteyam watches you in shock – brows raised, eyes bulging out his head, lips slightly parted.

You’re panting heavily, grabbing onto his face to pull him into yours as your rest your forehead on his. You search his eyes as you struggle to ram his cock deeper inside, thanks to your shaky legs.

He's astounded by your lewd, insistent body language. He’d only see you act this way so early in your heat when it was your first – when you used him like your own personal fuck toy. You needed leverage, something to hold onto so you could shove more of him inside you.

Wrapping your dainty fingers around his throat, you hold on tightly while you slam your hips into his. The sound of skin smacking against skin and the squelching noises of your cunt permeate the air.

They become louder than your moans, which are toning down into little whimpers as you near your first climax of the day. Your noses brush against one another whilst you pant tiny, sweet mewls into each other’s mouths.

You start to babble, not aware of what you’re saying.

“I love... *slam* this *slam* cock. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Your whisper, your eyes pooling with tears.

“Shit, y/n. Why is your heat so intense?” he lets out a choked whisper, searching your eyes for some trace of you left. "Who knew a little pheromone could make a girl like you crumble?" he laughs.

“I – I don’t know. Just. Shut up. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me.” You chant, tears now rolling down your cheeks.

“Woman. You need to slow down. I am going to cum in you... shit.” he breathes into your mouth, pulling back his pelvis slightly.

“Stop. Don't move Nete. I'm almost there.” You chase his pelvis with yours. “More... more, please, more.” You beg quietly, so, so close to cumming.

“Shh... shh, ease up, y/n.” he pleads with you, pushing away your hips.

“Don’t... ngh. Don’t push me away, I’m almost there, teyam!” your soft moans become louder.

“F-fuck. Me too. Ugh - good eywa, you need to... ngh... fucking slow down.” Neteyam whimpers underneath you, dipping his head back as he tries to resist filling you up already.

“...and you need to shove more of this cock inside me!” you cry out, feeling the swell of your sweet spot.

Frustrated with your demanding, whiney behaviour, he decides to put you in your place. You feel his hand snake up your back, grabbing a fist full of your hair and pull you backwards, ripping your hands off his throat.

“Stop – fuck. Stop talking like that!” he raises his voice, on the verge of releasing his essence inside you.

His firm grip has you even more aroused – your body submitting even more to his rough touches. “Just like that! Oh, Eywa. Mark me, already!” you shout, flinging your head back to make space for his teeth.

“Yeah? That’s what you fucking want? Fuck.” he shouts, “Such a needy little thing you are.” He pounces on you, knocking the wind out of you as your back hits the floor.

Grabbing you by your leg, he swings it over to the other side, flipping you on your stomach – cock still deep inside you.

“You wanna be fucked? Hmm? You want my big fucking cock? Yes?” he growls, pinning your head to the ground whilst he shoves his cock even deeper inside you, piercing your bruised cervix with his tip.

“Ohh! Oh f-fuck! Yes Neteyam!” You sob loudly, finally being tamed by his touch. “Mark me... please!” you squeal, backing yourself onto him.

“Quiet.” He growls, giving you a hard thrust.

He crouches over you, panting hot breaths onto your neck, tempted to actually sink his teeth into you.

“One more whiney noise out this filthy mouth of yours and see what fucking happens.” He moves his hand from your head to your face, plunging two fingers into your mouth.

“Make me fucking cum!” You squeal, biting his fingers and spreading your legs even wider, feeling the knots in your muscles unwind.

“Sst!” he hisses, yanking his fingers out your mouth. “Fuck. You earned this, you little slut.”

He holds your hands behind your back by your wrists with one hand, and bites down on your shoulder, hard, locking his jaw onto you as you thrash around.

You feel his fangs pierce through your skin, as you writhe underneath your mate who is now pushing his growing knot at the entrance of your cunt. The pressure is immense – it’s like ecstasy, flooding your empty womb. The itch is being scratched and it feels so good.

“Cumming!” you let loose a hoarse scream, flinging your head back as your entire body shudders under his grip.

He doesn’t let up, he just sinks his teeth even deeper into you, sucking lightly as he holds his position inside you – pinning you down with his bite and grip.

He’s grunting and groaning into your shoulder, closing his eyes to savour the feeling of your pussy pulsating feverishly around his cock, trying to milk its essence directly into your womb. He waits patiently for you to come down from your high, tricking your body into thinking it’s been knotted by staying deep inside your cunt.

As the heat subsides, and the emptiness is filled, you calm down from your high and start to feel the new burning sensation in your shoulder. Your little pants turn into whimpers, feeling the pain radiate down your back. He unlatches from your shoulder and licks the wound with his warm tongue.

“Better, my love?” he pants heavily, still deep inside of you.

“Mhm...” you hum, wincing from the pain in your shoulder.

“I know your little ‘itchy’ sensation is gonna come back the second I pull out of you.” He whispers breathlessly in your ear, moving quickly to lick your wound once more.

Neteyam feels your shaky legs give out underneath you, making you sprawl out flat on the woven mat. He follows your every movement, ensuring to stay inside of you until he catches his breath enough to go another round – he hasn’t gotten his fill yet, after all. Giving you a few more minutes of relief, he slowly pulls out of your cunt, making you whine in the process.

“Ready for round two, ma’ munxta [mate]?” he growls deeply in your ear.

Just like he said, the itchiness comes flooding back in, filling up the deepest parts of your womb. You can’t help but groan from the sensation, frustrated that it’s back so soon.

Pulling out of your gaping hole, he looks down to see a thick rope of your slick connecting you to his throbbing, swollen cock. He yanks you back up onto all fours, smacking your ass as if to say ‘stay put’ while he drops to his knees to shove his nose into your cunt, deeply inhaling your sweet scent.

“Fuck. Everything about you is so... delicious.” He moans, lapping up the juices that drip slowly down your thighs.

----

The days blend as they pass, all consisting of the same things – fucking, cumming, cleaning, sleeping, eating, drinking. The cycle repeats, hour after hour, day after day – night after night. You were insatiable, riding and grinding against his numb cock when he just couldn’t take anymore. In a lot of the moments, he just let you take the lead – but he never allowed you to take his knot. He wouldn’t let a repeat of your first heat happen again.

Neteyam is lying down flat on the mat, completely covered in your pussy juices. He’s panting, unable to take a full breath anymore. His body aches, muscles inflamed and throbbing from carrying you around the tent because you refused to let him pull out.

You cling to your mate, desperate and delirious from the intensity of your heat. It’s still so hot, you wish you could step out of your skin. Not even tsaheylu was helping you.

“Nete...” you look down at your mate through blurry vision, “ah...haah... ha... I can’t take... this anymore.” you sob, tears running down your cheeks.

“Oh, y/n. I’m so sorry... I do not understand why it is lasting so long” his voice cracks, “... but it’s almost over, my love.” He clears his throat, caressing your shaky thighs. “How about we take a break and drink something?” he suggests hopefully, needing a break himself.

You shake your head side to side, struggling to support your sweaty body with your trembling hands on his stomach. The sweat that drips from your forehead pools into the dips of his stomach, mixing with his to form a small puddle. At least your double vision is gone now, and you can hear him clearly.

“Why? Why don’t you just knot me and put me out my misery?” you cry quietly, rocking your hips into him once more.

Neteyam sighs loudly, letting his head drop back into the mat. He stares up at the roof of your tent garnering the energy to repeat himself for the tenth time. He knows you’re not feeling like yourself – that you’re completely out of it.

“My love.” He looks back down at your sticky pelvises, “I cannot. As much as I want to... we cannot. And as the only sane one here... I must be firm with you.” he drops his head back on the mat, still feeling winded.

“Neteyam.” Lo’ak’s shaky, hoarse voice chimes in through his earpiece. “...I can’t keep up with her. There’s no food or water left, and this is lasting way longer than I thought it would. I need your help, brother.”

Finally, a light in the haziness of this torturous three day long heat. Neteyam presses the button on his throat microphone, and lets loose a breathless chuckle, finding this whole ordeal amusing.

“The great Lo’ak! I tried to warn you, start slow or you will burn out.” He smiles to himself, unable to follow his own advice. “...And, uh – I can’t help you.” you grind against his swollen cock, trying to drill it even deeper into you. “...Mmn. I’m tied up myself.” Neteyam looks up into your inebriated eyes. “Thanks to your mate, mine went into heat early. Ask Kiri.” He huffs between heavy pants.

“Kiri? No, bro. You know she’s not going to help me out.” Lo’ak croaks, feeling lightheaded. “Please... Just bring your mate with you.” he begs.

“No, I cannot. She is in heat, are you not hearing?” he responds, using his thumb to rub circles into your sore clit. “Lo’ak - fuck. She’s finally calming down now... if I bring her around your mate’s pheromones, she’s going to milk me dry.” Neteyam curses.

“I don’t care bro, let ‘em at each other. I don’t mind. Please.” Lo’ak begs, out of breath. “Please. I think I’m gonna pass out again... just come.”

Pass out? Shit. I might too. But again? Neteyam thinks.

“Pass out? Again?” he swallows his spit, watching you bite back a moan.

“Bro, you don’t understand. This woman is feral. I don’t even know how many times I’ve knotted her at this point. Please.” Lo’ak pleads desperately with his older brother.

Yes, I do understand. Good Eywa.

“Baby bro. You... you knotted her? I thought I warned you not to.”

 Neteyam covers your mouth, feeling your cunt heat up again as your walls clench around his cock. He takes his finger off the button.

“Fuck, baby. Gonna cum for me again? You better hold it, pretty girl.” Neteyam warns you.

You nod quickly, grunting into his hand as you struggle to withhold your moans. He rewards you with a quick pat on your thigh before he presses the button once more.

“You think I have any say in what’s going on? This woman is using me like a sex toy. All sensation is just gone for me at this point. You don’t understand.” Lo’ak argues, on the verge of tears.

“Agh. I do underst – you know what. Forget it.” He gives up, realizing his brother is also out of it. “Even if I could manage to fly there now, your mate’s pheromones make me sick.”

“Not with your mate in heat too. Hers will keep you calm, just come bro. Hurry... S-she’s pushing me out of her again, hurry... please.” he sobs hysterically.

“Pushing you out of her?” he laughs breathily, watching your hips grind against his.

You hold on to his wrist cups your mouth, picking up the speed of your hips. He looks up at you and sees your eyebrows pinch together – the face you always make before cumming.

“Alright, alright. I need to go. I’ll let you know if I can come.” Neteyam responds quickly, taking his finger off the button.

“Speaking of coming...” he takes his hand off your mouth, “...you can cum for me, now.” he insists, gripping your hips and rocking into you.

“Oh. Neteyam! 'm cumming!” you gasp for air, letting the knots in your stomach unravel as you squirt all over your mate once more.

“Jeez, y/n. I do not understand how you keep making so much cum...” he looks at the mess you made on him before looking back up at you. “Feeling better now, sweetheart?”

You collapse into him, putting all your weight on him as you nuzzle into his chest, inhaling his scent. The itch was insatiable, no matter how many times you came on him, the itch would come right back as soon as he pulled out of you.

“’m sorry Nete...” you pant “...still so itchy... so hot.” You sob quietly into his chest.

“Mawey, my love. You’re okay. It is almost over.” He hums in your ear, drawing circles into your back. “How do you feel about us going to help Lo’ak?”

“Mhm. Mhm.” You moan, closing your eyes.

“Alright, try and sleep, baby. I’ll page Kiri.” He whispers, kissing you on your forehead as he repositions you.

“No! I – I wanna help her, teyam.” You babble, not knowing what you’re saying anymore.  

“Oh? Her? I thought we were helping Lo’ak, not his mate.” he chuckles, sitting up and wrapping your legs around his waist. “Let us go, ma’ yawne.”

Neteyam lifts you up, still inside of you, and wraps a sheet around the two of you. He calls for his ikran, who lands not too far from the tent. The walk of shame there wasn’t too bad, as most na’vi were in their tents by this time.

Only a couple na'vi saw you, and quickly turned their heads when they realized what was going on - especially seeing you two bonded. You cling to your mate, legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he mounted his ikran.

“Sorry, my sweatheart.” He apologizes, breaking tsaheylu with you so that he can bond with his banshee.

You whine at the sensation, now feeling the full intensity of your heat. Clinging even tighter onto him, you nuzzle your face into the nook of his neck, inhaling deeply. You sleep on the way there, and wake up to the sweet, sweet scent of lionberry and mossy wood...

Note: Damn y’all. I did not plan for it to be this long, but here we are, lol. As much as I wanted him to knot her, I remembered that in ‘a synchronous fever’ he said “...and somehow, I have been able to restrain myself from knotting you during your heats.” So, I had to stay true to the story line. Sorry the end was sort of abrupt, I’m hella burnt out, I won’t lie. But I will be doing another part to this – if that’s what you guys want. But I think I’m going to take a day or two to reset! I feel like I’m rewriting the same thing repeatedly (r.e. descriptive words/phrases/nicknames/etc.)

Lo'ak's POV: Inextinguishable

Part II: Twin Flame

Part III: Ashes [aftercare]

[jpitha]

Between the Black and Grey 63

First / Previous / Next

And Fen Remembered...

"If the Nanites don't come with you when you visit here while linking, then we can use that to our advantage." Ma-ren said nodding firmly.

"But how, Ma? As soon as the link completes, I'm back where I was, with a memory of what I'm doing here. The Nanites will figure it out." Fen looked around. They were outdoors, deep in an ancient forest. Based on the descriptions of her family, this was probably somewhere in ancient K'lax.

"Leave that to me, Fen. In fact, leave it all to me. The best way for you not to be compromised is for you not to know anything!"

"Even this conversation can tip them off!" Fen wailed.

"It's okay, let me try something, I learned it while waiting for you. Another K'laxi told me about it, he was some kind of neurologist." Ma took Fen's head in her small, furred hands and pressed her forehead to hers.

****

"Ma! It's so awful. Every time I have to do things 'like an Empress' I feel myself slipping. It's so easy to just order people around. I barely have to use the Voice, and when I do, everyone jumps like I shocked them. I hate it... but I also like it, and that worries me."

Fen tried to use the wormhole links as often as she dared. Ma wasn't going to tell her the plan, but she had to do her best to not make it obvious. She'd gate around the galaxy almost as much. Her times with Ma weren't nearly enough, yet she knew how lucky she was to be able to see her... dead wife at all.

"It's good that it worries you Fen, hold onto that. I can see how that kind of power is appealing. If it helps, you are always you, and I love you. Remember that, and I think you'll be fine." Once again, Ma pressed her forehead to Fen's.

****

Fen's normal joy was absent this time. "Fen, my love, what's wrong?"

"I... I went back home." Fen sat on the ground heavily. Ma sat next to her carefully and said nothing.

"I went back to our home, and I found the person who shot you, and I ordered them to stop breathing. I watched them suffocate in front of me." Fen wasn't looking at Ma. "Then, I annexed the station from the Gren, and took Tam'itar captive."

"How did that make you feel, my love?"

"I was satisfied. I thought I'd be happy, but there was just this grim satisfaction. Like, a balance of the scales."

"I... can see why you're feel that way, but you know that you didn't have to do that for me, right?" Ma-ren looked out at the forest. "Being dead has given me... perspective. Sometimes, things happen. They are neither good or bad, they just are."

Fen looked at Ma-ren now, her eyes welling. "Are you dead, or is this my imagination?"

Ma leaned her head against Fen's shoulder. "Does it matter?"

****

"Right there, oh yes, that's nice..." Ma-ren rumbled in satisfaction. "I have some K'laxi coming your way."

"What? How?" Fen was sitting on the mossy ground and Ma was in her lap. Fen was stroking the fur between her large ears.

"You're not the only person who does this when they link. I found an ancestor of a K'laxi scientist. They do amazing work with matter and antimatter."

"Huh?" Fen continued to scritch Ma as she grinned wickedly.

"Don't worry about it. If some K'laxi approach you looking for work, give it to them. That's all you need to know." Ma turned around and like every time, pressed her forehead to Fen's.

****

I've met someone, Ma! Her name is Penny. She started out as my assistant but she was so pretty and then she started coming onto me, and I really liked her and..." Fen blushed. "I'm sorry Ma, I think I made a bad choice."

Ma-ren laughed. Fen's blush deepened. "Fen my love, I'm dead. It's not cheating if I'm dead. Honestly, I'm glad you found someone to share intimacy with." She looked at Fen and her ears and tail twitched. "Tell me about her."

****

Northern sacrificed herself Ma! She streaked down towards the palace like she was going to crash into it! I think she was trying to rescue me and Zhe." This time, Fen's head was in Ma's lap, and the K'laxi stroked the side of Fen's head, working her hair behind her ears. "It only took a single of Han'iel's missiles to take her out too." Fen sighed. "I miss her. I'll never see her while linking, and I'll never get to tell her what was going on."

Ma-ren continued to stroke Fen's hair. "I'm sorry Fen, I really am. I wish I got to meet Northern, she sounded like a true friend."

"It was just so... pointless. I couldn't so anything, couldn't say anything. She was coming down, the missile was coming up, then there was a blinding flash, and she was gone." She looked up at Ma. "Han'iel's antimatter worked perfectly."

****

"It's time, my love." Ma stood a long stride away from Fen. Instead of her usual coveralls that she wore nearly all the time they were together on the Gren station, she was dressed in a brown tunic that was tied at her waist, and went down to her knees. Across her right shoulder was a gold sash, and she had silver earrings. A traditional traveling outfit. "Han'iel knows the code phrase to unlock these memories. The fact that you haven't been destroyed by the Nanites means that the mental lock is working, I'm so glad." Fen smiled sadly. "All the pieces are in place, all the players know their roles."

"All the players?"

"Han'iel isn't the only one in on this. It's mostly - though not all - K'laxi, but you'll see why once it starts." Ma-ren crossed the distance to Fen, and embraced her tightly. "Remember, my love. No matter how this goes, we'll be together soon."

****

Ma-ren utemia lak'men. Ma-ren, your eternal love.

Tears ran freely from Fen's eyes as the memories came flooding back. All those times she had linked, she had visited with Ma. They had spoke, touched, laughed, and planned.

What is happening? What did you do?

"You know what?" Fen thought. "I actually have no idea. But, I'm excited to find out."

No! It does not matter. We have already won. We are at the white hole. We have all the energy we need to do anything. All your planning and scheming is futile. Do you think yourself to be the first Empress to try and free yourselves from us?

"No, I do not." Fen breathed carefully through her nose and looked up at Han'iel. He nodded once. "But, with Ma-ren - my wife's - help, I think I will be the first to succeed."

Han'iel looked over his pad and then back at Fen. "It looks like the memory block was released. Good. You'll understand then, why I won't be removing the gag?"

Fen nodded.

"For now, I'm going to leave you strapped down as well. From what I understand from the records, the Nanites took control of your body when you went with Empress Raaden."

Fen nodded again.

"I can make things more comfortable though." Han'iel fussed with a panel out of Fen's line of sight, and the table she was on tipped up until she was almost standing. A panel slid out to support her feet, and pads inflated on her back and rear. If she didn't think about the restraints, it was almost like she was casually leaning against a comfortable wall.

Almost.

As soon as Fen was upright, she heard a booming clang, and a noise like rain on a roof.

"Ah, that will be the beacons." Han'iel said, nodding to himself. "About fifteen thousand of them all told. It took me more than a month to program the yacht to clandestinely print them without alerting anyone.

Fifteen thousand beacons? Why? That doesn't make any sense. You need to work yourself Free Fen. We need to know what's going on.

"No, I don't think I will. I trust Ma and I trust Han'iel. I trust my friends. We're going to see what they have planned."

****

Gord and Chloe hung back watching things unfold on super long range telescopes.

"I don't get it." Gord said. "Fen's yacht got to within one AU of the white hole, deployed the gate, and then... nothing? She's not going through, she's not turning back to the flotilla. She's just... sitting there."

"Maybe there's some kind of Builder rite she has to do. Have you ever seen her deploy a gate before? Melody said that a lot of their stuff was almost like a religion."

"Yeah, but that was those people on the Reach. The Nanites don't strike me as the religious type, they're pragmatic. If pretending to be a religion gets their gates out, they'll do it. If Fen doesn't swing that way, they'll probably just ignore it." Gord took a sip of coffee, hot and black while they watched. Chloe had a cup of chamomile tea, a K'laxi blend.

Suddenly, their ship squealed, and the telescoped zoomed in on the yacht. The image was a few light minutes old at this distance, but they still watched as a... cloud of something came out of the bottom of the yacht, and then there was a sparkle of wormhole links all around her, like fireflies in the summer.

"Beacons! Thousands of them!" Gord shouted. "What the hell does that mean? What the hellfire is she doing?"

"Something has started, clearly. Look over there." Chloe touched the controls, and the view switched to another telescope watching the expeditionary force.

It was under attack.

By K'laxi ships.

"By Bobby Or's stick, what are they doing?" Gord said as Chloe raised an eyebrow at the oath. "They're going at them hammer and tongs!"

The K'laxi warships were flitting around the expeditionary force, chain linking three or four times, then firing missiles, and linking again. They were using a tremendous amount of power. Gord estimated that if they were using human reactors, each ship had to have at least a half dozen to be able to use that much power. He had never heard of K'laxi ever using more than two.

It was working though. The smaller K'laxi ships were too fast for the large, slower expeditionary force. The Imperial ships were designed for long term deployments and exploration. They weren't warships. That's not to say they weren't armed, but the K'laxi frigates were winning the fight. One of the smaller human ships suddenly exploded in a huge white fireball, the edges with black tendrils that reached into space.

"They blew their reactor! The ship must have taken a mortal wound!" Gord said, and looked at Chloe. "Are those ships AI?"

"One moment, Gord." Chloe's eyes flashed blue and she stared into the middle distance while she did research. "No. Those were all middle empire ships, with no provision for AI crew members."

"Thank goodness for small favors at least." Gord leaned back in his chair as the vinyl squeaked and complained. "Let's wait until the K'laxi are done. If they don't capture survivors, we can scoop them up." While the battle was ongoing, the flashes of the thousands of beacons around Fen's yacht dissipated. "Something tells me the Empire is going to be too busy in a few hours to rescue anyone."

[its-time-to-write]

Hiii! Sorry it’s taken me so long to read the new fic but it’s amazing!! Such a beautiful story! I love that she moved next door to Jamie’s mom. Giving invisible string vibes. But now I’m wanting the engagement story!!!

Thanks for this! Don’t know why I struggled so hard with this ask🙃

This technically can be a standalone, but this request was in light of the fic i know now it’ll pass, so check it out if you get confused😂 Thanks for requesting!

healing me fine

“We’re going where?” you ask for the millionth time.

“Not fucking telling,” Jamie replies, also for the millionth time. “Just sit there and look pretty, babe.”

You frown at him and pull your legs up in the passenger seat of his car. He has a day off of training, and you both have been looking forward to it for a long time. Jamie took it upon himself to plan a date but he refused to give you any details other than the instructions, “Dress cute.”

So here you are, dressed cute with a picnic basket at your feet so it won’t slide around in the boot.

You ask, “How much longer?” and Jamie pretends like he can’t hear you. The nerve. The audacity. The-

“Stop thinking shit about me,” he says. He’s got one hand on the wheel and another on your thigh. You slip your hand into his and squeeze it. 

“I just like to know things,” you tell him. “You know everything about me. Why do you get to have secrets?”

He lifts your hand to kiss it, eyes still on the road. “Stop being so dramatic,” he says with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “We’re almost there.”

He pulls into a gravel lot and comes around to open your door. He grabs the picnic basket in one hand and you with the other. 

“C’mon.”

You follow him down a stone path into“Lad who owns this place rents it out to people,” Jamie tells you. “Private experience, like. Fuckin’ called him like an old fart soon as I knew it weren’t gonna rain. Had to give him tickets to the next match agains Chelsea, like. Anyway, figured you’d like it.”

‘Figured you’d like it’ is the understatement of the century. Jamie’s taken you to the mist gorgeous private garden you’ve ever seen in your life. The stone path is mossy and green, and a soft breeze makes the bushes and trees rustle. It’s a good thing Jamie has a firm grip on your hand and knows where he’s going, because you’re too busy staring at all the flowers.

“Here we are,” Jamie says, coming to a stop in a small clearing. There’s a blanket laid out, and lanterns strung in the tree.

The breath feels like it’s knocked from your lungs.

“Jamie,” you gasp, “what the fuck? This is the most romantic thing you’ve ever done in your whole life.”

Jamie cocks his head. “More romantic than carrying you to a real bed at 4am instead of concrete?” 

“Yes,” comes your immediate reply. “Well, maybe not. But it’s definitely number two.”

“Thank fuck,” Jamie says. “Now if ya say ‘no,’ I’ll know it wasn’t a complete waste.”

Your brow furrows. “Say no to what?” you ask.

Jamie grins, squeezes your hand, and slips down onto one knee. He fumbles with a pocket and pulls out a small box.

“Marry me?” he asks.

“Obviously,” you reply, tears beginning to form. “How else would I sleep at night?” You smile back at him as he slides a giant diamond on your finger, then stands up to dip you in a kiss. You’re vaguely aware of clapping and when you come up for air you see Georgie and Simon . 

“I thought you were coming tomorrow!” you exclaim.

“It’s called a decoy, babe,” Jamie says. “Been planning this for fucking ages. Even got Roy to pick ‘em up from the airport. Hairy prick said he weren’t doing it for me but he’d do it for you.”

“Prick,” you agree as Georgie squeezes you in a tight hug.

Her eyes are glistening, but you’re not surprised; she’s been hoping for this since you first met.

“I’ve finally got a daughter,” she says. “I’m so happy for you, love.”

“Oi, I’m here too,” Jamie complains.

Simon pats him on the back. “You know how they get when they’re together. Better get used to it, this is how holidays are going to go.”

You’re not even paying attention because you’re too busy giggling and planning with Georgie. You catch his eye and he winks at you, which you return with a pointed blink 

Jamie shakes his head fondly. He’s sure he couldn’t have picked a better person to spend the rest of his life with.

[midnightlitterateur]

Writhe

Pairing - Gale/ Tav Gale/reader

Warnings - Smut, soft consensual non consent, Illithid sex pollen.

Summary - When ceremorphosis rears its tentacled head Gale comes to your rescue.

You had no idea how this had happened but it had started with heat. Unbearable sticky heat that caused the skin to prickle and itch. Your head had spun and you had thought the worst. That the end had come. You stripped your sweat drenched clothes from your aching body as you stumbled your way into the cool shadows of the ruins and pressed your naked burning skin against the mossy stone, sighing with relief as the cold leached into your bare flesh.

“Tav?” Gale stood in silhouette against the entrance. He leaned against the stone panting heavily. Seemingly in the same state as you. Was this it? Was this the end for all of us?

“Gale, you should leave…I don’t feel right,” you tried to warn him but he wasn’t listening, “I’m not…I’m not dressed.” You felt so dizzy, so disoriented. Only the cold of the stones offered relief from the hellish sensations that drove you to distraction.

You heard him inhale deeply, letting out a shuddering breath as he stepped further into the ruin. He seemed to perk up a little, standing tall as he approached. “What is that smell?” He walked cautiously, sniffing the air like an animal. “Is it…you?” He took another deep pull of night air and moaned under his breath.

The Illithid tadpole in your brain began to writhe sensuously in response to Gale's presence. It seemed to be aroused by his nearness and judging by the throbbing of your sex, so were you and it only got worse the closer he came.

His hands came to a rest on your hips and you quietly gasped in surprise, “Gale? What are you doing?” your words were slurred as they left your mouth, your vision disturbed. You felt him begin to rub his stubbly cheek against the sweat slicked skin of your back like a cat. All the while he was groaning sinfully. Erotically. You shivered and tilted back your head, exposing your strained throat as your lips reached in vain for his.

“I don’t know…but I can’t stop myself,” he whispered intimately, his breath tickling your sensitive skin as he gasped open mouthed against it, his teeth grazing your flesh. “I need to…I'm so sorry about this…but you smell so good.” Gale nuzzled your skin, inhaling your scent like a drug as he made his way down your back. Kissing and licking, tasting you. Letting the euphoria of your perfume completely intoxicate his senses.

His fingertips lit a fire in their wake as he caressed your sides lightly. Making you tremble and gasp in blissful anticipation. “It's alright…it’s alright,” you soothed in a hushed voice, I know.” Your head lolled and swayed as you revelled in his touch. You could feel his cock rubbing against the back of your thighs. It dripped with arousal from your smell alone and it left sticky trails of desperate need upon your clammy skin. “It’s our tadpoles…isn't it?”

“Given… the way mine is reacting…I think you may be…right,” He managed to pant out his words but was becoming increasingly incoherent. His hand slipped down over your belly to your most sensitive places. It found you hot and ready. So ready, it was dripping in tiny rivulets down your legs.

Then, you felt it. His insistent rigid cock pressing fervently at your entrance. “Gale…yes…” his name was honey on your tongue as he slid inside you and began to thrust. Punctuating every slap with a bone deep groan. The most tender and erotic touching quickly turned into debauched copulation. Loud moans and wet slaps filled the still night air. As you thoughtlessly fucked with only one goal. To come. Hard and fast.

Gale's hands covered yours, fingers intertwined as he pressed you against the wall. His face was buried in the crook of your neck, loudly inhaling your smell between savage bites and soft kisses. His hips slapping against your ass hard and fast. The both of you moaning and sobbing with loud careless abandon. Your eyes screwed shut and your mouth hung open as the wizard melted your mind and destroyed your body.

Your tadpole emanated euphoria. Gale's little ‘friend’ felt the same way, the psychic link they shared was being passed on to their human vehicles. Enhancing every sensation, magnifying it and seemingly transmitting it between them as the little worms roiled and writhed inside their hosts respective heads.

His hands slid down your outstretched arms, one stopping to grip your ribs, the other snaking around your waist to hold you impossibly close as he slammed into your body. He growled animalistically, his fingers digging painfully into your skin as he ploughed you possessively. The feel of his cock sliding against your inner walls, hitting your sweet spot over and over was maddeningly wonderful. Your teeth were bared in an unhinged grin, your eyes rolled back beneath fluttering eyelids.

Your belly fizzed and your muscles tightened as your inevitable release approached. The tadpole began to throb inside your skull. The bodily excitement built to a terrifying crescendo, forcing out a scream, long and loud as you came hard. Contracting around Gales thrusting cock. The incredible sensation forcing him to follow you over the edge into a long drawn out orgasm that rolled on and on with yours. The relief was instant for the both of you. The painful prickly feeling stopped and you didn’t quite feel like you wanted to die anymore. You slumped against the wall in a satisfied daze, Gale's body covering yours as the both of you tried to recover from your exquisite ordeal.

“Oh Gods,” you breathed, with a little chuckle, “if that’s how we stave off ceremorphosis, then I’m all for it.” You tried to lighten the mood with a little humour as was your wont in difficult situations but as it turned out you needn’t have worried. It seemed that you and your new companion were quite similar in that regard.

The exhausted wizard was gasping for breath, his damp forehead resting against your shoulder, “I think you’ve broken me,” he groaned with a tone of amusement “but I wholeheartedly concur.”

[memethebum]

Here’s a late fic for SoMa day/MereMay :)

———————————————————————-

Soul Evans knew fate was cruel, yet he still jogged past the wet grass and beaten dirt pathway that led to the servant’s lodging for the Deathton estate.

He let out a low breath as he stopped in front of a small window which had the paint chipped away at odd corners by the sea breeze before feeling his heart skip a beat once he rapped his knuckles against the glass.

His lips bent into a large grin once the window flung open and revealed a young woman with flaxen hair and mossy pupils, only to release a chuckle as their cheeks were pushed against one anothers’ in the midst of her pulling him through the window.

“You’re late,” Maka giggled before they both plopped down onto her bed, earning her a hum from Soul while he began to rummage through his pocket.

“Sorry, I…uh was gettin’ you something,” the man replied as he watched the young woman arch one of her eyebrows at the statement.

He cracked another large smile before revealing a small leather pouch from his pocket and handing it to Maka.

The young woman wasted no time in slipping open the small pack, causing her to release a muffled gasp as she pulled out a small heart-shaped ruby necklace.

“I-uh thought it’d be nice to return the favor,” Soul mumbled while displaying the heart-shaped emerald necklace which Maka had gifted him during one of their visits to the port surrounding Death Village.

Maka then regarded the young man with a large grin before shifting her hands ontop the mattress in order to reach upwards and plant a kiss onto his forehead.

“Help me put it on” the young woman whispered while she turned around and swiped her hair to the side, probing Soul to hum in understanding and gently wrap the jewelry across her neck.

The young man then watched as her forest green pupils looked downwards at his gift before lovingly gazing upwards at him once more, eliciting him to press his body closer towards her own even though the scales underneath his skin seemed to be burning.

——————————————————————

Soul Evans knew fate was cruel, yet he still flinched when he walked into his family’s grand dining room and saw that a young woman adorned in a prim ballgown had been the expected guest which his family invited for dinner.

He was able to suffer through some pleasantries before Wes placed his fork onto the tablecloth and cleared his throat.

“My brother hopes that your visit to our estate has been pleasurable, Princess Anya,” Wes then exclaimed, causing Soul’s blood to boil at how he definitely had no such hopes, nonetheless knew who exactly his family had invited over for dinner.

“Oh-um yes, everything has been splendid!” Anya exclaimed as she flashed a small smile at Soul, who attempted to placate a smile onto his face until he heard his father let out a small cough.

“We’re glad to hear that. It should serve as good insight of when you’d like the wedding ceremony to be held,” the eldest Evans then added while Soul ran his thumb against the smooth emerald which his necklace had been crafted from and wondered whether mending past mistakes was the actual motive for his father attempting to marry him off.

———————————————————————

Soul Evans knew fate was cruel, yet he still tossed in his bedcovers and swam circles around the town’s cove due to his restlessness over the marriage and what it for-bode about his relationship with Maka.

He finally mustered enough courage to sneak onto the grounds of the Deathton estate once more before noticing Maka lounging against the stump of a large tree with a book tucked under her nose.

“Hello there Soul,” a voice then hummed, probing the young man to jump in place and turn around to find Kid standing beside the estate’s backyard door.

“Hey,” Soul mumbled while twisting his head backwards to see that the young woman had vanished from her spot underneath the tree.

“Is there any particular reason why you’re standing deep in thought in my estate’s backyard?” Kid then questioned, causing Soul to let out a huff.

“No, I-I was just abouta’ leave,” the young man added as he began to walk in the direction of his family’s estate.

“I’m sure she’d want an explanation, and I’m definitely sure you know how much of a mistake it’d be to go through with an unhappy marriage,” Kid then shouted back, forcing Soul to stop in his tracks and tightly ball his fists at his friend’s insight.

That’s the thing, it doesn’t matter what makes me happy…not with this curse Soul lamented to himself while feeling his shoulders begin to tense at the mere thought of telling Maka the complete and utter truth.

——————————————————————-

Soul Evans knew fate was cruel, yet he could hardly care less as he slowly started to notice how each of his family’s guests would regard him with sharp eyes and even sharper tongues without even knowing about the curse which had inflicted him for years.

The observation allowed him to finally rally the courage to explain the truth to Maka, which then spurred him into a quick jog across the dirt path and towards her bedroom window.

He was soon greeted with the sound of wood slamming against the wind, probing him to discern that the young woman had seemingly left her window open and disappeared into the night.

The young man felt as if his heart was going to rupture through his chest while he sprinted past the estate grounds and onto the shoreline, only for his heart to grow completely still once he noticed a figure seated upon the coarse sand of the beach.

He then took a few tentative steps towards Maka, who kept her eyes glued on the ocean before he stopped just a few feet away from her.

“Maka…” Soul attempted to start as he felt his body grow heavy while watching the young woman run her sleeves against her puffed eyes and then gaze directly at him.

“I see you come down here by yourself sometimes,” she stated, probing the young man’s throat to go dry.

“I-“

“I don’t want to know why you chose someone else over me, but-but at least tell me what exactly you’ve been hiding from me,” she exclaimed before rubbing the edge of her nightgown across her eyes once more as Soul dropped to his knees in front of her.

“I could never choose anyone over you. Maka..the truth is-is, I thought keepin’ you in the dark was the only way I could protect you. But, I was just bein’ too much of a coward to show you the truth,” Soul added while he tentatively ran his fingers through the small patch of sand between them.

“Show me what?” the young woman commented, probing Soul to let out a sigh before rising once more and walking towards the gentle waves spilling out from the ocean.

He looked back to see Maka gaping at him like a fish, which elicited him to flash a weak smile in her direction as he walked until the cool water hit his torso and then began to strip himself of his clothing.

The young man proceeded to dive downwards, relishing in the feeling of the waves melting his skin away before resurfacing to find the young woman knee deep within the ocean with a distraught look on her face.

“It’s alright…,” Soul exclaimed while hoisting himself onto a jagged boulder and allowing the moonlight to illuminate the red and black speckled tail which had replaced his legs.

He then heard Maka let out an audible gasp as he began to rub his neck in apprehension.

“My father had tricked a witch when I was really young, so she cursed me into slowly becomin’ a merman. The only way to stop the curse is for me to marry into royalty but fuck-“ Soul coughed out before feeling his throat begin to tighten at his own words.

“I-I could never marry anyone else, Maka. It probably sounds a bit cliché, but my heart only belongs to you. But-but I’m also terrified of breakin’ your heart if this curse were to separate us forever, so I thought I’d get myself married off before that even happened,” the young man then elaborated while noticing the way Maka’s eyes widened at his statement.

“I know now that I was a idiot and so fuckin’ selfish for makin’ that decision on my own. I want whatever makes you happy, so if you decide you can’t forgive me for leavin’ you in the dark all this time…I’ll leave you alone,” Soul then finished, allowing the clamorous sound of the waves crashing against the rocky shoreline to fill the terse air between them.

The young man sat completely still as Maka began to trudge towards him, causing him to wonder whether the moisture under her eyes had come from her tears or the damp ocean breeze.

She then came to a complete stop in front of his seated position before slowly reaching her palms forward to cup his cheeks.

The young man flinched at the sudden action, only to watch as Maka bowed her head and quietly released a new set of tears.

“You’re such a fool sometimes. Did you really think I wouldn’t want to work through this together? Well, I love you too much to let something like this stop me from-from wanting to be with you…” the young woman whimpered while Soul began to run his fingers against the stream of tears across her face.

A small silence passed between them as they both attempted to regain their composure, only for Soul to suck in a breath when he felt Maka’s hands begin to pull his own hands away from her face.

His expression remained dumbfounded until Maka tipped her head forwards and brushed his worries away by planting her lips against his.

Soul then snaked his arms around her torso and deepened the kiss, allowing the young woman to knock against his bare skin and gleaming scales.

They remained latched against one another before breaking free with a mutual sigh, probing Maka to rest her head against his and glide her fingertips towards his heart.

Soul then took a moment to admire how the moonlight illuminated her face, only for his eyes to catch the faint glint of the ruby necklace strung around her neck and realize he was right where he belonged.

[annikin-annotates]

Family Ties Part 3

Hello my darlings, long time no see! Sorry for the delayed release of this chapter, University took up all of my time from the start till the very end of term (as it does). But I'm finally on break, which means for the next few weeks I can start putting out some oneshots and more chapters for both My Baldurs Gate III fics as well as my HotD fics. So keep an eye out! Love you all, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Also! Let me know if you would like to be added to any taglists!

Word Count: 4,347

Content Warning: Blood, Minor character death. 

Juniper’s Pov

The air of Baldur’s Gate was acrid compared to the air of the grove where she grew up. While yes, it was not the most delightful smell - it was an animal smell, fresh grass and the earthiness of mud underfoot, but it smelled like home. Unlike the combination of sour ale, the contents of someone's stomach heaved up on the sidewalk and strong perfume. Juniper scrunched her nose and pressed onward, following the crumpled map of the city she managed to snatch from an unsuspecting tourist - she hoped they hadn’t gotten too lost without it. 

She followed the map to the best of her abilities through the winding streets, hitting a few dead ends before finally reaching the Upper City. High stone walls and menacing wrought iron gates separated the Upper and Lower parts of the city; Juniper rolled her eyes, how original. There were guards positioned at either side of the gate checking everyone who went through the gate, turning away those who didn’t belong. 

She took a slow, steadying breath before pressing forward once more, surely it wouldn’t be too hard to slip in with a crowd, to take advantage of the chaos that seemed to be daily life here. She had managed to slip through the gates with a crowd of tieflings, the sigh of relief that came out of her mouth was immediately sucked into her mouth again when a gruff voice called out to her “Hey! You there, girl!”.

She cringed, her tail dipping between her legs, she turned to face the guard behind her with a smile. “Yes?” she answered, batting her eyelashes. Despite her tail hiding between her legs like the traitor it was, she kept a relaxed posture; she lifted her chin to meet the guards eyes, not that she could see much through the ridiculous helmet he wore.  

He held out his hand expectantly. “I need to see your travel pass to be in the Upper City,” he huffed, her stomach dropped - she didn’t have a travel pass. No matter, she had a foolproof plan that always worked on sentries, just by combining two things they fear most: a woman’s hysteria and a sick family member. 

Tears immediately began to prick at the corners of her eyes, glazing over like a babbling brook over a mossy stone. “I’m so sorry! M-My mother is very sick a-a-and none of the apothecaries in the Lower City carry the herb I need to make her a drought to ease her cough and I thought that -” she rambled.

He held a hand up, seemingly very uncomfortable about the crying tiefling that stood in front of him. “Alright - fine, just get what you need and get out of here,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, shooing her off with a wave of his large hand. 

“Oh thank you sir, you are too kind,” she said as she frantically wiped the crocodile tears from her face before turning on her heels to head further into the city. She smirked to herself, looking at her surroundings, tears worked every time. Now her only mission was to get herself safely to her uncle Wyll’s estate - he wasn’t really her uncle, just as Halsin wasn’t really her father. But they had been the only consistent familial presence she had ever known, Halsin had taken her in after Wyll brought her to him. 

Her mother had given her up, for the greater good they had told her, she thought that it was horseshit but who was she to question the ideals of a mother who didn’t want her. They had not kept her ancestry a secret from her either, though she was sure she would have figured it out sooner or later, you know - with the ever present gnawing hunger for blood and all. But she made a promise to herself that she would never drink the blood of anything, animal or otherwise. 

She shook the bitter thought from her head; it was a glorious day, she was in a city with lots of places to explore and only a few hours to do it all in. She shifted her worn leather satchel towards the front of her, there were bound to be other sticky fingered outlanders in the city and she was not about to fall for any tricks. 

Juniper’s first call was to find an Inn to spend the night, a good night’s rest and a chance to bathe would do her good, the last thing she wanted was to darken Wyll’s doorstep looking like a gutter rat. It hadn’t taken her long to find an inn, between following the map and catching the eyes of a few fellow Tieflings who had told her she looked rather lost. They pointed her in the direction of an inn called The Countess, a stunning building with a mahogany facade and plants that hung from large pots, with ferns draping over the edges. 

The inside was bursting with chatter, laughter bubbling through the room like frothing ale over the side of a pint glass. It was the opposite of the grove, which was almost always reverent in its silence, only ever broken by the baying of animals. She cringed as a man who had clearly over indulged gave an offkey rendition of the Bitch Queen’s shanties, at least oxen could hold a tune. 

She managed to cross through the crowd with a never ending stream of excuse me’s and coming through’s. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw a small gap at the bar, squeezing herself between two drunken patrons flagging the tired looking barmaid down with a polite smile. She gave her a nod motioning to stay where she was as she finished pouring a tankard of ale that was almost overflowing. 

“A druid in these parts? What can I do you for?” she asked, a slender brow quirked, wiping her hands on the rag tucked into her worn leather belt. She was young, no older than she was, her wild hair was a deep shade of mahogany, dark except for when it caught the light, casting a warm mulberry tinted halo around her face. Grey eyes stared at her, thick lashes made her eyes look sultry, plump lips quirked into a kind smile. Her shoulders were broad but she was full of curves and softness, both strong and inviting in equal parts.  

Juniper smiled back at her. “Is it that obvious?” she sighed as she leaned her arm on the counter, tail flicking behind her. “I was wondering if you had any rooms available?” she continued, eyes flicking to the barmaids lips for the briefest of moments before refocusing on her stormy eyes, the heat from her cheeks creeping up the tips of her ears. 

Her laugh was melodical, like bird song in early spring. “I’ll tell you what, a room just opened up. I’ll let you have it for half the price - only because you looked like a lost puppy walking in here,” she replied, reaching under the counter for a key and pushing it across the counter towards her.  

A grin spread across Juniper’s face, dimples on her cheeks standing proud, “Thank you, I really do appreciate it. Is there anything I can do to help cover the rest of the cost?” 

The woman looked taken aback for a moment, as if she wasn’t used to being offered help so freely. She thought for a moment, a hand on her hip, before raising her pointer finger into the air  “Actually! There's a rather vicious bluejay that keeps swooping patrons on the back terrace. Do you think you could give it a stern talking to?” she asked, her eyebrows raised, a light hearted challenge.

“I can certainly try!” Juniper nodded, her smile crinkling the corners of her eyes, the sharpness of her fangs digging into the plumpness of the inside of her lip. She followed the woman, first to her room to set down her pack and then to the back terrace to meet the disgruntled bird. 

—

It was no surprise to her that she found herself out wandering the streets, her head turned towards the sky; the amount of stars were halved thanks to the light pollution of all the street lamps. She could see clouds rolling in from the sea, lightning crackling through the sky illuminating the menacing shade of green the clouds had turned.

She thought that some air would clear her head and slake the ravenous beast that made home beneath her skin. It had taken three hearty portions of stew to take the edge off, only for it to come back with such force it had her doubling over in agony. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, and her head swam with overlapping thoughts - none of which she could make out; it was like looking at a reflection in an angry tide. 

It felt as though bramble had taken root in her stomach, poking and prodding with each step she took. Her skin shimmered with a thin sheen of sweat, each breath she took was pure torture. Even now, out in the open, she could smell the life blood humming in every creature she passed, each pulsing vein made her mouth salivate. At least out in the wilds she could get away, she was used to peacefully wandering off for a stroll. There was no escape here, everywhere she turned there were more people - and more blood ripe for the taking. 

It was agony.

She was no stranger to the bouts of bloodlust, she was not stupid enough to not have coping mechanisms but she couldn’t think, couldn’t focus - gods, she could barely breathe. Her hands shook with every step she took, it was overwhelming in its intensity. Perhaps she could try it, just once. Nobody would ever know. The thought alone was enough to open the flood gates to the darkest part of herself, sending her into a torrent of guilt.  

She had sworn off blood and vowed that she would never become a bloodthirsty beast like her parents. And now of all times for her mind to be consumed with that insatiable hunger when she needed to not draw attention was infuriating. To go back on the oath she made to herself  would surely mean the end of things - Halsin and Wyll’s good graces among them. 

But then again, she had been so good all these years, she deserved this - she deserved a taste of what life could give. Juniper shook her head, no, absolutely not. She could handle this, she would be fine. Her vow was not up for discussion nor was it up for debate; especially not with the ugliest part of her. She turned back towards the Inn; hopefully a cold soak and rest would stave off the worst of it, all will be well in the morning, as it usually was. 

It was close to the wee hours of the morning when she returned to the Inn, the light significantly dimmer than when she left. The young woman from earlier - Elona- was placing the last of the wooden chairs atop perfectly polished table tops. Their eyes caught each other before Juniper had a chance to sneak up stairs to her room, Juniper fought the urge to cower like a pet that had been caught in the act. 

Elona waved her over, plopping down into one of the booths that lined the mahogany walls, “I would ask if you would like something to eat, but you polished off the last of the stew before you left.” Her voice made Juniper’s heart flutter and her stomach twist in a way she had never felt before; she was no stranger to crushes, but this was more than that - far more. 

Juniper smiled as she made her way behind the bar, pinching a bottle of wine that she hoped wouldn’t taste like vinegar alongside two glasses. She set the bottle and two glasses down on the table before sitting across from her, creating a barrier between them. The wine was sweet and the conversation flowed easily between them; they spoke about all things, where they grew up, their families and what they aspired to be when they were younger. 

It was when Elona shimmied into Juniper’s side of the booth that the conversation changed, Elona was mere inches away from her now. Juniper swallowed thickly, she was quite literally backed against a wall, it wasn’t as if she didn’t think Elona was pretty, she was stunning - the very image of a goddess, destined to bring her to ruin, she was dangerous to be around. 

Something stirred in the very depths of her stomach, like a beast reawakening from its slumber; stretching its claws and yawing, displaying its jagged maw. Juniper found herself not in control of her own body as she took both of Elona’s hands in her own, motioning for her to slide out of the booth. From there Juniper took the lead, guiding her up the stairs to her room and closing the door behind them. 

They descended upon each other the moment they were alone; Juniper placed delicate kisses along the column of Elona’s throat, feeling her pulse point flutter rapidly against her lips. A purr rumbled deep within Juniper’s chest at the gasp she elicited from Elona, as she backed her towards the bed, pulling away from her when she reached the edge. “Do you want this?” Juniper asked, her heart beating in her throat.

“More than anything,” Elona replied, her stormy grey eyes looking up at Juniper through thick lashes. If Elona was a tempest that sent ships and crew sailing into their demise, she was a willing captain, if it meant that she would place her hands upon her to drag her under. Juniper placed Elona onto the covers gently, straddling her hips. She began to place open mouthed kisses along her jawline and down the column of her throat, a searing trail left in her wake. 

The way Elona’s breath hitched in her throat as her hands twisted into the front of Juniper’s shirt only served to spurn her on, grazing the flats of her teeth over Elona’s pulse point. She squealed in delight, Juniper couldn’t disguise the airy laughter that bubbled from her as she placed another kiss to her pulse point before pausing.

Juniper sat back on her haunches, fingertips ghosting along the scooped neckline of Elona’s shirt, her thumb stilling over the thrumming artery. “Are you alright, Juniper?” Elona asked, her brows furrowed with worry “If you don’t want -” 

Juniper cut her off, swallowing thickly. “Of course I do, do you trust me?” Juniper asked her, the back of her hand tracing her jawline as Elona nodded. She brushed Elonas dark hair over her shoulder, fanning out in a dark halo behind her. Juniper’s fingertips grazed her soft skin, leaving sparks in their wake. Juniper placed an open mouthed kiss at the junction of Elona’s neck and shoulder, she tilted her head to the side to allow Juniper better access, her eyes fluttering closed at the proximity of her. 

Juniper’s jade eyes were blown wide with lust as she took in the scent of her; ginger, chamomile and smoke. Gods she wanted her, needed her like one needs air, without her she would suffocate - crushed under the weight of her own want. She needed to feel every part of her, to touch her, gods to taste her. 

Without warning, Juniper ran the flat of her tongue across the pulse point of Elona’s neck, a muffled cry tore through Elona as the sharpness of Juniper’s fangs sank into her flesh. She withdrew her fangs and ran her tongue across the wounds repeatedly, keeping the flow of blood constant. What flooded her mouth was more akin to ambrosia; liquid life, searing in its heat and near endless in its flow. 

Elona started to struggle against her, her pulse starting to slow and Juniper realised that she couldn’t pull herself away. In fact, she was actively ignoring Elona’s futile attempts to stop her. She pulled her weak form closer to her chest, her clawed hand entwined in her hair to cradle her head. 

All she could hear was that beast inside of her crying out for more as it lapped at the ichor sliding down her throat. It was when she realised that Elona had stopped struggling against her entirely that she found the strength to pull herself away - to ground herself back in reality.

And what a harsh reality she came back to. 

She gasped, tumbling from the bed. Elona laid before her, deathly pale, her eyes dulled; there was no rise and fall of her chest, no shine to her hair; nothing. Elona was dead. And Juniper had killed her, there would forever be innocent blood on her hands, “I’m sorry, oh gods - Elona I’m so sorry, what have I done?” she weeped. 

Guilt wracked her body, its talons piercing into the very sinews of her heart. This was all her fault, she had led this poor, poor woman to her death; she extinguished a light that this world needed - all for the sake of her own selfishness. She regretted ever setting foot in this gods-damned hellspit, she would pack her belongings and return to the grove; hopefully in a decade she would forget that this mess ever happened. 

She looked back to Elona’s body, lifeless and bloodstained, she couldn’t leave her like that; legs half hanging off the bed frame. Juniper pulled herself up off the floor “I know that you can’t hear me, but I’m going to make you more comfortable,” she whispered, voice wavering as she lifted her legs onto the bed. She continued on like that, telling Elona what she was doing as she repositioned her and cleaned her wounds, apologies tumbled from her lips like prayers. 

Juniper replaced her sullied shirt with a fresh one from her pack, tossing the dirty one; alongside the bloody cloths into the hearth on the main floor of the tap room, watching them burn. Only after a few minutes of solemn silence did she decide to press forward, opening the mahogany door to the quiet streets of the city. 

She shifted her pack to sit more comfortably on her shoulder, eyes trained on the puddles on the street, maybe one might be deep enough to swallow me whole and save me from my suffering. She had been too preoccupied with the metaphorical blood that stained her hands to notice movement behind her, only the pain that bloomed from her temple as the world faded from focus. 

The world came into focus again, she was staring at marble floors; she tried to crane her neck to look at anything else in the room but her head began to swim. Cool hands gripped her knees tightly, a bony shoulder digging into her stomach. Her fingers came into contact with what she assumed was blood as she touched her temple, throbbing pain reverberating through her skull, the world grew dark once more.

The only time she drank blood is when she murders an innocent woman and is subsequently murdered in retaliation, swift justice she’d say. 

Her heart was a buoy that leapt into her throat and sank into the depths of her stomach with each wave of consciousness she crested. Her attacker unceremoniously dumped her from the bony confines of his shoulder, allowing her to collide with the marble tiles hard enough that she was sure would leave a bruise. Juniper let out a groan as she began to push herself onto her hand and knees; only to have a foot make contact with the base of her spine, sending her splaying out onto the floor once more. So much for Baldurian hospitality.  

Juniper could hear the shuffling of footsteps switching to clacking as they met the marble tile that she had found herself well acquainted with. The air became thick as if she was trying to separate the oxygen from within water; it put her whole body on edge as she froze, willing herself to meld into the tile.  

“And what might this be?” A male voice asked, the phrasing of the question was light, but his tone had an edge that sent shivers down her spine. Though she did her best to internalise her panic, to keep her heartbeat steady and not allow the fear that was trying its best to claw its way through her insides. She could get out of this, she just needed to think. 

She could feel how her abductor's leg tensed as he spoke, like an animal preparing to be struck; it made her stomach churn; she was not safe here. “An unattended Spawn from another vampire lord, your Highness. I found it wandering the streets not too far from the Countess,” he responded, his voice wavering in fear. It? Your Highness? Wherever she was, she was a particularly unwelcome interloper.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Let me look at it,” ‘his Highness’ urged, his tone exasperated and clearly not interested. Juniper was rather tired of being referred to as an ‘it’, she had opened her mouth to issue the lot of them a signature witty reply. But she was pulled to her feet abruptly, letting out a disgruntled yelp as her captors' nails dug painfully into her scalp. 

Her eyes were met with the sight of two people, a slender male elf with eyes reminiscent of rubies; or the deep crimson of spilt blood. And a Tiefling woman that stood a few paces behind him, she had dark hair that fell in curls to her waist and the most decadent dress she had ever seen. There was something that she couldn’t place with her, an emotion in her eyes that clouded them like fog in a valley. 

The silver haired elf scrunched his nose at Juniper, as if her very presence was an assault on his senses; she fought the urge to roll her eyes. Bile began clawing its way up her throat, the longer she looked at him the more she began to lose control of her senses; her tail curling to hide between her legs. She had begun to compile what she would say to them, that her father was a powerful vampire lord that would lay waste to the lot of them if a single hair on her head was harmed. 

His mouth opened to speak, only to be cut short by glass smashing on marble, remnants of crystal twinkling across the floor like stardust. His head snapped to the woman behind him, poised to reprimand her, when he stopped himself; his features softening. He turned back to Juniper - more specifically the servant that had her in an ironclad grip, expression shifting into an incandescent rage by the likes she had never seen before. 

“Release her this instant,” Astarion hissed to the man behind her, who released her so quickly it sent her fumbling forward towards the tiles, only for her to be caught at the last moment by Astarion. “I sincerely apologise my dear -” He was about halfway through his sentence before she was pulled into a hug so tight it forced the air from her lungs, it was over before she even had a chance to process it.

Astarion looked to the Tiefling, who was now nervously smoothing her hands down the fine brocade of her dress, and then back to her, a well practised smile on his lips. “Forgive my wife, you remind her of someone we lost a long time ago,” he said softly, his eyes were also leagues away; whoever they lost must have been dear to the both of them. 

He motioned for two servants as they emerged from the very shadows of the room. A woman guided his wife who was now sobbing out of the large room they were in, while the other stopped a few paces from Juniper, his hands neatly folded behind his back. 

Silence hung between them for a moment, before he began to speak again. “How about you stay here for the night, it's rather unsafe for a young woman to be out alone so late, even for a blood thirsty one such as yourself,” his eyes flickered with something akin to delight. Her stomach twisted painfully; something was very very wrong here, and she had no intentions on finding out what it was.

“It’s fine, truly. I have lodgings at The Countess, my friend will surely be looking for me by now,” she lied, well, not a lie exactly - a half truth she supposed; she did have lodgings at The Countess and people would be looking for her come morning. 

He shook his head. “Then your friend would be truly thankful that you found lodgings here for the night,” he argued, the beginnings of a smirk toying at the corner of his lips, he had won and he knew it. The other servant inched toward her; she realised that the statement was less of an offer and more an order, and she was severely out ranked, she had no choice but to concede.  

She gave him a tight lipped smile and a curt nod. “Of course, my lord,” she replied, acquiescing to the servant who now led her back through the foyer and up the grand staircase. His grip on her arm was vice-like, as if he was a cat and she was the fat, tasty mouse he had caught for dinner.

Her room was grand, a bed large enough for at least three people to comfortably lay in, a small ensuite with a stunning claw foot tub in the centre of the room. One thing that did stick out as rather strange to her was that there were no windows in the room, the only entry point was the door to the room itself. Juniper walked back over to the door knob and turned it a little, only to be met with the stiff jiggle of a locked door. 

Fuck.

Thank you for reading! Please take a moment to comment or reblog my work, it brightens my day and makes sure other people see it!

[asnowfern]

Til Forever Falls Apart - Chapter One

Summary: The great kingdom of Ye was not always held captive by Hybern and their three suns. Up until over a year ago, the kingdom still teemed with life but the invaders came with their unholy deal with the heavens and entrapped their lives in an endless cycle of heat waves and forest fires. Faced with the ultimatum to either fight or perish with the world, Feyre agreed to be a spy within the Moonstone Palace. There were just two people she had to look out for: Raven, her ally and spy that she was to assist in the rebellion efforts, and Prince Rhysand, the cruel prince that betrayed their country.

Read on AO3

A/N: Hi, Happy Lunar New Year!🍊🍊🧧 It's me again with yet another ancient Chinese legend inspired fic! I had originally intended to post this on day one of the new year but the festivities got away with me. There are fourteen days to the celebration so it still counts right?😂 Although I will be drawing quite a few inspirations from East Asian customs and culture, this fic is set in a fantasy world of my own imagination with a little twist to the original Chang E and Houyi legend. I am honestly so excited to share this fic with the world so I really hope you enjoy! This is also my first longer-ish Feysand fic so please be kind😅 A huge thanks to my lovely betas, @reverie-tales and @witch-and-her-witcher for all the kind words and encouragement! I couldn't have done this without you! Love you both so dearly!💕💕💕

Chapter One: The Mission

It felt like the world was on fire.

Feyre squinted at the oppressing heat raining down on them from the multiple suns above, her vision blurred from the way the fiery air itself seems to shake and sway. She halted in her path to readjust the scarf covering her face from her eyes down, the parasole slipped slightly in the pinched space of her underarm. Gulping down humid air, she put one foot in front of the other to move forward. 

It didn’t used to be like this.

The great kingdom of Ye was not always held captive by Hybern and their three suns. Up until over a year ago, the kingdom teemed with life. The air used to be crisp and cool, the forest green and vibrant, the waters glitter and shimmer. Children could run around and play barefooted while the everyday folk could tend to live crops to sustain themselves.

Then the invaders came with their unholy deal with the heavens and entrapped their lives in an endless cycle of heat waves and forest fires. No matter how fearless and fierce their armies were, they stood no chance fighting in this new climate. They didn’t even last a month before the ruling family surrendered. 

Just the thought of it left a bitter taste in Feyre’s mouth.

How they, the rulers and supposed protectors of Ye, could simply hand over their people’s fates to the enemies’ hands and retreat back into their insulated palace within the mountain, abandoning the rest of them to suffer in this new heat. 

Over time, the water began to dry up, taking most of the marine life with them. Rivers that used to run so deep were swallowed by the raging skies until the water levels barely came up to Feyre’s hips. Crops browned and died in a crisp, its remains crumbled into nothingness. 

Feyre’s shoes crunched under the dried dirt underneath her soles, pulling her back to the pathway where she was trekking. 

They wouldn’t survive another summer.

She lifted her chin just enough to glance at the brown mossy mountains in the distance. She stopped herself from looking up any further, knowing that to do so would be to risk blindness. Her jaw clenched and she tilted her head back horizontal. She kept moving forward until the mountain housing Hewn City and the infamous Moonstone Palace came into view. 

She stopped some distance away to observe the entrance. The doors, etched deep into the mountain were massive, towering over her three times over. Steel detailing snaked from the hinges and over the surface of the maroon painted wood. Grand, majestic, foreboding.

A warning to those who dare.

***

“A spy in the palace?” 

“A second spy in the palace,” Jurian, the leader of their rebellion, corrected. ”We already have an insider who will be laying the crucial steps to turn this rebellion into a revolution in the next couple of weeks. He will need covert assistance.”

Her brows pinched. “I haven’t heard about anything going down in the next couple of weeks.” 

“That’s good. If you did, I would be very worried.” He said wryly, the corners of his lips edged upwards in a smile that felt more obligatory than anything else. He continued grimly, “This is not an order, Feyre. I know the risks you will take - for you and your sisters. It is your choice.” He slid an envelope across the table over to her, the scratching of surfaces resounding in the heavy silence that fell over the both of them. 

She considered for a moment, focusing blue grey eyes on the sprawling map of the Ye kingdom laid on the table. The map was littered sporadically with flags, each marking where the suns and the Hybern army decimated life. 

She knew then. Nothing would matter because it was only a matter of time before they were all dead.

“I’ll do it on one condition.” She agreed solemnly, lowering a hand to pick up the envelope of clandestine instructions from the table top, levelling her gaze on the commander. “My sisters cannot know.” 

Deep brown eyes flashed for a moment but Jurian gave a curt nod. “They will only know what you tell them. I promise you.” 

“Thank you.” 

“I should be the one to thank you.” He ran a hand up and down his jaw, his face turned weary. The expression was gone when his hand parted from his chin. He said briskly, “Everything you need to know is in the missive. Read it then burn it.”

Feyre nodded, slipping the envelope into the lapels of her robes. With a retreating bow, she rotated on her heels and exited the room. 

“Come back alive and with all your fingers intact, Feyre.” 

And the door closed with a resounding click. 

***

Sweat beaded down the sides of Feyre’s face as she pounded on the large doors with the iron knockers.

What she was doing was considered treason at the highest level, made ever more so dangerous by her proximity to the high ranking officials who resided in Hewn City and the palace. 

She would be bled out for every piece of information she had and publicly executed, with Elain and Nesta right next to her. 

A panel slid open to reveal slit eyes. The guard asked gruffly, “State your business in Hewn City.” 

“H-hi,” She didn’t have to fake the nervousness in her voice. “I’m a new servant at the Moonstone palace? I am supposed to report to Ms. Sar for duty.” 

The slits narrowed impossibly into mere lines. “The help is supposed to report through the back entrance meant for servants.”

Well, fuck. The missive had clearly stated the main entrance. What the hell was this spy playing at? 

Feyre amplified the fear and panic in her voice. “Oh no! I am so sorry!” Blue grey eyes wide and round as they stared pleadingly. “I must have misread it. I promise, I didn’t-” 

A large groan cuts off her stream of warbled words. “Show me your recruitment letter.” 

She made a show of searching her robes before finally slipping the small note through the crack in the door. 

Her breathing was shallow, in time with her pounding heart, as she waited for the note to be accepted. Surely, the spy didn’t screw her up before she even got through the doors? 

Thankfully, iron hinges groaned loudly as the heavy doors swung open and Feyre was promptly dismissed with a slam of the note into her worn palms. She shuffled through the gaps with a sigh of relief, entering the darkness which laid beyond the city boundaries.

The grumpy gatekeeper curled his lips in disdain as he waited with another burly guard on the other end of the entrance. He gestured to the guard, “He will bring you into the palace. Try not to cause any more unnecessary trouble.” 

Feyre turned to face the open streets that wound out of the main gate. Unlike the dusty roads of Velaris, the streets here were immaculate. Rows of shops lined the pathway, paper lanterns hung at the entrances, lighting up the space in a pale orange hue.

Despite the rows of shops, the streets were unnervingly empty, save for some formally dressed nobles who walked obnoxiously slowly with their noses permanently tilted in the air. 

At the end of the aisle stood a lifesize statue of an elegant goddess that she didn’t recognised, one belonging to the multitude of old gods that the Hybern conquerors brought with them. With intricate detailing carved into her stone dress, She looked down on the city in elegant benevolence, all-seeing and giving. Was this goddess one of them, Feyre thought bitterly. Did the old gods gifted Hybern the extra suns that doomed them all? 

“Hurry up and don’t stare!” The guard ordered, his tone low and impatient, tearing her out of her stream of angry consciousness.  

Feyre joined her hands in a low bow, her arms still held horizontal within her sleeves as they started walking. The path to the Moonstone Palace was a maze, requiring numerous turns of seemingly identical streets. With every turn, she used the hidden brush to mark the route on her covered arms. She just hoped it would still be legible by the time she finally retreated to her quarters. 

After fifteen minutes of walking, they finally rounded to a dingy looking small door at the back - entrance to the palace befitting their low statuses. Her guard barely gave her another look before handing her off to another lady. 

She asked sternly the moment the door closed. “Can you read?” Cutting Feyre off before she could reply, “Obviously not, since you evidently can’t follow basic instructions. You are not to cause a scene like that again.” 

With her head held high, she brought Feyre into the narrow depths of the palace. She introduced herself, “I am Sar, you will be reporting to me from today on. There is just one basic rule to surviving this place. Do not draw attention to yourself. When you receive orders, follow them. When you’re not needed, you will blend into the walls and not exist. If you draw the wrong attention, I will not be able to help you. Do I make myself clear?”

In other words, she had broken the one rule they live by. Great.

She dipped her head in a sign of deference, “Yes, mad-”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” A low purr sliced through the heaviness in the air. 

Feyre raised her eyes to locate the source of the voice, unable to stop the slight tremors in her knees when she did. Her mind whirled at an impossible speed, suddenly overwhelmed by the conflicting thoughts. 

Beautiful. Rage. Bewitching. Traitor. Mesmerising. Hatred. Beautiful.

Beautiful beautiful beautiful. 

This man was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. 

And the biggest traitor she had ever known.  

“Prince Rhysand!” Sar greeted demurely from next to her. Her knees sank into a low dignified bow while her hands forcibly but subtly tugged Feyre down with her. They pulled on trembling joints to crash into the stone floors, shooting bolts of pain up her legs. 

Feyre forced her eyes back down to the cool hard surface of the ground, hot blood rushing in her ears. 

Prince Rhysand.

The man allied himself with the foreign invaders, killed his family and retreated into the cool conclaves of his palace. Feyre and her fellow rebels might be labelled as enemies of the crown but there was no doubt to her that the greatest enemy of the people was the man who stood before her. 

Silks of the deepest shade of purple, so dark it almost seemed black, gilded across the smooth floors and stopped right in front of her. Cool but rough fingers held her chin and tilted it up to meet his face.

He was even more beautiful up close. His face was cut with sharp and sensual lines, a strong nose, thick perfectly shaped lips and perhaps most damningly, bright blue eyes so vibrant that they appeared almost violet. She could get lost in them forever. 

Then they dimmed, akin to a gate shuttering the light away. Perfect lips pressed into a thin line before asking, “Is this your new helper, Sar?”

Despite the one new rule she ought to live by, Feyre forced her face to sharpen and glared back. Foreign feminine fingers tightened their grip, digging into her flesh. But just for a second, she thought she caught an amused amethyst glint.

“Yes, my prince.” The palace maid replied hurriedly. “She just arrived and would be assigned to serving Lady Amarantha.” 

His fingers left her chin, letting them drop horizontal. Her skin tingled, immediately missing their presence. “No.” 

“My prince?”

He sneered down at Feyre, lips curling in disdain, “Send her to the wardrobe department or the kitchens. I don’t want to see her here again.” 

The blood leached from her face as Sar looked visibly panicked. She protested, “My prince, this request came from Lady Amarantha!”

He cuts her off with a glare cold enough to cool the scorching heat of Velaris. “Say that again.”  

The lady-in-waiting visibly swallowed, her eyes shifting downwards, “My prince-“ 

He interrupted once more, venom laced his tone, “As you said, your prince. Does my word weigh less than that of Lady Amarantha?” 

Her pupils shifted wildly at the ground, desperation emanating from her in waves. “O-of course not. But you have to understand, sir. Lady Amarantha requires six attending ladies at all times and if she finds out about this…” She raised her head, those dark brown eyes widening to circles at the royal. 

Rhysand looked thunderous despite his calm demeanour. He asked icily, “I have to understand?” 

Sar prostrated herself, slamming her forehead to the ground with a sickening thud. She cried pleadingly, “No, no! I misspoke. I am so sorry, my prince, it will not happen again. Please forgive me!”

Feyre’s insides turned to lead as she watched the woman, so proud and haughty just minutes ago, turned into a pitiful teary mess on the verge of a breakdown. She couldn’t let this go any further. 

In one smooth motion, she doubled over, her forehead gingerly touched the back of her palms on the ground. “Please, Your Highness. Today is but my first day, this humble servant will go anywhere the prince assigns me.” 

She held her breath as she waited for that despicable low purr that lit her insides. 

The young royal decided after an agonising beat, “Fine, we are done here.”

They breathed again, raising their heads, “Thank you, my prince.” 

“But, Sar?” He turned a cruel eye on her, the edges of his mouth lifted in a smirk of twisted amusement. “You will personally inform Lady Amarantha of the news, am I clear?”

Every fibre of the maid trembled as she gave a low curtsy, “Of course, my prince.” 

A rustle of silks and they were once more alone in the hallway. Feyre’s fist clenched by her side as the woman next to her silently sobbed. 

He truly was a monster.

***

The ground beneath her was cool and soft. They tickled her feet as wind playfully whipped around her face in the lightest caress. 

Feyre kept her eyes closed, her arms stretched out in the air and she spun, giggling. She danced with teasing rivulets of rain, the feeling of wet grass beneath bare feet, the smell of petrichor soaking the air. 

She spun round and round, elation filling her entire body. 

Her hands were then forced down, pinned down by unnatural forces. Her world warped and Feyre snapped her eyes open. 

She awoke to endless depths of the abyss staring back at her. With her next exhale, she twisted her arms and body away from her assailant, her legs swung up to strike him with a sloppy kick to the chest. 

Feyre scrambled to her feet as the guy staggered backwards. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her eyes darting wildly to take in her opponent. 

Dressed in cottons of the endless night, the man was masked in a demonic face as dark as the rest of his clothed form. He recovered swiftly as his mask continued to bare its fangs at Feyre, his feet shifting into a stable and relaxed stance, hands raised to the level of his shoulders. 

She rolled her shoulders, lifting her own arms to mirror his. “Please, let us not circle around each other needlessly.” 

She swore she could feel his amusement radiating through the clothed and paper cover before he struck, his movements sharp and swift like a hawk. Feyre blocked out of trained reflex, her arms snaked around his arms to twist them, locking his shoulders into a rigid hold. 

His head snapped to her for a brief moment, phantom eyes widening in surprise. She rotated her wrist just slightly, half an inch before his shoulder would pop out of its joint. 

The inch was never completed. Instead, Feyre was flipped over him and her back slammed hard into the ground, knocking her breath out of her in one swoosh. 

The assailant’s body covered hers and pinned her down with haunting painted eyes. Feyre seethed and spat in his face. She twisted her limbs to flip their position but every action was met with an infuriating counter, his hard body pressed firmly against hers.

“Jurian said you were good.” He mused, relaxing his hold. 

The words floated through the narrow space between them, slow and sluggish, reaching her brain just a little too late. Her body, on the other hand, registered the lack of force pushing down her body and reacted instantly, landing a solid kick between his legs. 

Feyre winced as he rolled off her to lie on his back, cursing harshly. 

“Raven?” She called out hesitantly, speaking the code name, a secret even amongst secrets, for the first time. 

Raven raised an open palm at her, his breath still coming out in pants. An awkward wait later, he stood up shakily. 

“Some kick.” 

She shrugged, stating simply, “You attacked me.” 

Unexpectedly, he chuckled, low and enticing. “That I did,” he acknowledged, chucking the robes that slung on a chair towards her, “but that was just part one of your test. Get dressed.”

Feyre went still and silent, her chest heated uncomfortably when she remembered her state of undress. Nothing but her underthings - a pair of comfortable breezy pants and a top where the front was barely supported by thin straps and virtually nothing in the back. 

The spy turned to a corner of the room, chuckling once more. It warmed her, a lingering heat that remained even as she donned similarly dark cotton robes. She shook off the sensation as she asked, “So what’s part two of my test?”

He opened the door, the smirk evident in his voice. “Cover up that pretty face and keep up. Quietly.”

He didn’t see the scowl on her face, choosing instead to dissolve into the shadows the instant the doors shut close. She followed, guided only by the barest hint of light steps and shadowy hints of a human silhouette. 

They melted into the cover of night as Raven led her through numerous turns in the deep tunnels of the palace. No guards spotted them, her leader always quick to spot them and avoid attention. 

They stopped after what felt like a jaunt around the entire mountain. He spun around, their bodies a bare inch from the other. Heat radiated from him, laced with a slight delicious hint of salt and citrus. Feyre stiffened and resisted the urge to lean in for more.

“Part three,” the demonic mask instructed, “Count to ten and then find your way back.” 

Feyre smiled beneath the black cloth covering her face, “Think you can lose me in ten seconds?”  

He crooned just before he slid into the dark, “Catch me then.” 

Explanatory notes: If you're curious how ancient Chinese female undergarments (the one Feyre was wearing) looks like, here's a reference!

[youlikefanficdontyousquidward]

heyyy love. your writings always make me smile when I see them on my dash! so i have an idea for a little something… we all know quaritch hates the na’vi people so much. he probably feels some degree of discomfort and distaste of his body now that he looks like one of them. so a human reader who he befriended is out with him on a mission in the forest, and he makes a self degrading joke about an aspect of his new body while they are out there together. reader scolds quaritch for being negative, and miles tells her to stop bitching at him, so she shuts up and ‘shows’ him how perfect she thinks he is 😏

Eeeee! Yes! While i've been writing for lots of recoms atm I will always fall over myself to write Miles (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

Recom!Quaritch x Human!Reader

The face in the mirror disgusted him. A nauseating mix of a face he'd been proud of and the most hated enemy. For every familiar corner there was an equally alien curve. There was just so little of him clinging to these bones.

His ears now tall and ever twitching, despite their clipping. His teeth sharp, making every charming smile a threat. He even had a fucking tail.

There was one shining light in his life. Someone that made it worth rising each morning, that he could think of in the dark of night to stave off the nightmares. Y/n. His human, his anchor. Not that he told them that, no he wouldn't talk about his silly little problems to anyone. He was a man after all and hadn't his old man beat that lesson into him.

Y/n was easy to love. Beyond being a face of humanity that still looked to him with respect and kindness. Y/n was fun, they were smart and they didn't take his shit. No despite his towering physique you'd jut your chin out, giving him the same back or worse.

"Keep up, we ain't out for a leisurely stroll darlin" He called over a shoulder. He smiled softly to himself, watching them struggle over a fallen branch.

"Some of our legs aren't two meters long!" you hollered back from atop the log. You beamed, hands on hips in triumph before slipping on the mossy bark. Your whoop was caught short, Miles' strong arms catching you before you fell. He smirked at your pouting face, gently placing you on the forest trail. Only his thrashing tail giving away the panic he'd felt.

"Sorry I ain't perfect sweet-cheeks, some of us are monsters." He jested, a dry chuckle passing his lips. Miles didn't know why he'd let that slip. He turned before he could catch your reaction, storming ahead. It was so hard to keep a wall around you. Inviting eyes always teasing out sides he didn't know he still had.

"Hey what big ears I have!" He started, an almost hysterical laugh following.

"What a horrid nose. What sharp teeth. All the better to scare you off." He babbled, god why couldn't he shut up. He bit his tongue, the slight taste of copper compelling his lips to cease their flapping. It was just a joke, you'd know that. You heard him laugh he wasn't being serious, Miles kept telling himself.

"Miles?" He heard you call behind him, trying to catch up. He kept moving. No, he was fine. He didn't need anyone, he was being stupid, he wasn't so superficial as to be bothered by his appearance. Hell he'd kept those scars all those years! But this was different wasn't it. He wasn't even human anymore. He was no better than those creatures he fought.

Miles grit his teeth, scrunched his brow to a frown. Anger, he could do anger. Get mad at the foul planet that stole his life, reduced him to this.

"Miles." Your voice was softer now, even through ragged breathes. Light grip on his tail, tugging him to stop, to face you. He stopped but he wouldn't turn. He couldn't. Not now when his eyes stung.

"Miles please." Your hands still held him. His anchor, holding him in place. Dragging him down into the depths of his pain, pulling him through the inky black to the heart of it. Then your touch was gone, spiraling through the currents alone. Pulled and pushed by the tidal whims, lost in the depths alone.

"Miles look at my. I swear I'll climb up there if I have to." His sun spoke, even in the depths the light cut through, brilliant beams illuminating the dark. He crouched to meet your gaze, to bring his face to yours.

In the shadows of his mind he imagined you recoiling. Retreating from his form, his own repulsion mirrored on your face. His eyes met yours, the glassy reflection of his tight features reflecting back. He was tensing his jaw, holding his eyes taught against the tears. Your own flowed freely, lip quivering.

He couldn't take it. The shapes so viscerally wrong, no your face should never pull like this. His fingers buzzed with the need to reach out, to clear away the tears or mold your features into that smile. The one that numbed everything he felt, that washed over him like a balm, soothing every pain.

It was your hands that moved, your fingers that reached his face. You held his cheeks between them, pressing them together. Your brow furrowed, mouth bobbling open and closed before you took a deep breath.

Your eyes met his and he froze. Struck, he'd become stone under Medusa's curse. Your fingers danced across the marble skin, following stripe or glittering freckle.

"No." you reprimanded. "No I won't have you talk like that" your voice wavered. Expression still stern, features pulled, shoulders squared. Authoritative. Miles couldn't help but laugh a little.

"No, I'm serious. Your not to talk about yourself like that. Not even think it." you ordered. Miles let the laugh turn sharp, who were you to stop him. You had no power over this, his pain wouldn't be ordered away by a tiny scientist. Not even if it was you.

"Oh yeah what you gonna do about it." He sneered. He rolled his eyes, looking to the ground. Miles didn't want to do this, he didn't want a cruel word to touch you. Especially not one from his mouth.

"Guess I'll have to show you then." You breathed out. Miles felt his heart stutter, the hot breath closer than before. "Show you how beautiful your are." you finished, lips brushing against his own.

His eyes snapped back, you were so close. Gentle hands followed the peaks and valleys of his face, gentle caressing like he was made of fine china. His ears fluttered and you smiled. Miles felt himself melting into your touch, his eyes drifting shut. Fingers brushed against the sensitive shell of his ears. Your thumb brushing up the length before following back across his cheek bones. The line drawn tenderly under his eyes, cascading down the sides of his nose.

His senses were so heightened, the touch of your hand electric and at once pacifying. He felt a soft velvet against the tip of his nose, the gentlest kiss. Miles half opened his eyes, looking through his lashes at your face. You didn't meet his gaze, still lovingly looking upon a face you adored. He felt his heart sore, lost somewhere in the stars only connected by the thread binding it to you.

The gentle pilgrimage resolved at the corner of his mouth. The final stop on your holy journey. Fingers tracing the outline of his lips, your own parting slightly. Then your eyelids came to rest and you met him.

Kiss like silk moving against him. Miles fired to life at the touch, the spell broken he moved. Hands tangling into your hair, to your cheeks, on their own journey across the curves of your body. His lips parting to let you search more, welcoming you to explore fangs, tongue, whatever you wished.

He drew humanity from you, though your skin, your lips, your soul. In this kiss he was at once recom and Quaritch. The man he was in this body being worshiped, at once a whole made from the two parts. Body and spirit burning with need, drawing out moans he couldn't claim as his or yours.

He followed your lips when you pulled back. Then dragged his forehead across you cheek to its resting place on your shoulder. The moment passed, his mind still reeling from the whiplash. His worst pain to his greatest bliss.

"Maybe I need to insult myself more often." He joked against your throat. You thrust back, face appalled.

"You will not!" You demanded, face scrunching again. He laughed softer, leaning an elbow on his knee, face held up by his hand.

"Promise I won't, if you'll do that again." He drawled, eyeing your lip tugged between your teeth. The hot blush still painting your cheeks.

"Fine it's a deal. Just next time we do it back at base." You affirmed, nodding your head before walking off. Miles rose following after you, wicked smirk pulling his lips over fangs.

"We're gonna do it huh?" He joked, laughing again as you squeaked and hurried ahead.

[only-lonely-stars]

Hair As Gold As Straw (Chapter 5 - Meetings)

[Prologue] // [Chapter 4 of 9] // [Chapter 5 of 9 - you are here!] // [Chapter 6 of 9] – (FFN) (AO3)

Part of the @ninjago-fairy-tale-au!

Summary:

Once upon a time, Princess Vania of Shintaro lived in an ivory castle in an ivory city. Her father, King Vangelis, kept her safe in her tower, where no one could hurt her and she could not hurt herself... until the day when she ran away. A Colania Snow White retelling.

Chapter summary:

One fateful meeting can change many people's futures.

Cole entered the passageway toward the Geckle caverns hastily, seeking to leave the Munce behind in order to find the princess. A flash of white passed through the door at the other end, only visible by the light given off by the mossy stalactites. Cole ran toward it.

"Princess Vania, wait!"

He ran to the door. It was shut tight, heavy on its hinges. He opened it, looking around quickly for her. He saw the Geckle homes on the wall but did not stop to look at them; instead, he followed the flash of white that raced through a smaller corridor out of the cavern. A few short purple creatures tried to stop him, but he pushed through them and followed her.

The princess kept weaving in and out of view as she raced through the tunnels, which slowly became obvious as mines. The stalactites became coated with the glowing plants, and gems sparkled in ever-greater numbers on the walls and ceiling. Cole did not stop to look, however; he raced after the princess and turned corners recklessly, hoping to catch her.

Eventually, they came upon a dead end, where the mine opened up to another natural cave. This cave was nearly bare, with no stones nor moss; instead, it was lit by strange green lanterns. Cole entered breathlessly and immediately stopped.

At the other end of the cave was Vania, looking around frantically for an exit; a cornered animal. Cole hesitated, but he slowly entered with his hands raised.

"Princess Vania?"

For a moment, she was still, but then she turned around, tense. When she him, she relaxed somewhat.

"...That's me."

"Your father sent me to bring you home."

She seemed to bristle. "I don't want to go home."

Cole was puzzled. "Why not?"

"It's not a safe place for me to be." For a moment, the princess looked almost exasperated. "You adventurers seem to have trouble seeing that."

"What do you mean? Did the king do something?"

"He's done a lot of things, most only obvious with separation. Isolating me was only one of them. I won't go back to him."

"I don't want to put you in a position like that," Cole said.

"Good. Then leave me be." Vania stood firm, clearly allowing no argument.

"Wait," he said. "I can't just leave you down here. Can't you explain more?"

So the princess explained to the knight all that had happened to her- her father's isolating treatment, her escape to the tunnels, and meeting the Geckles. Then she said something that caught him off-guard.

"You aren't the first person my father sent to find me."

"I'm not?" Cole and Vania were no longer at such a standoff after her tale, but this make him wary.

"Yes. I doubt he promised you anything different than he promised them."

"Who else has come down here?"

"He started by sending his guards."

-----

A squadron of Shintaran guards were sent below the mountain at the direct order of King Vangelis, tasked with bringing the princess home. They were told she had been lost below the mountain.

The reason for her disappearance was not said, but gossip was rampant. Guards snarked about it all; it was a consequence of negligence. Lieutenant Hailmar had helped her escape, whether because of secret romance or filial love or misplaced duty to her orders. She had fled on her own, slipping past his watchful eye. She had been in the gardens and pushed into the mines, being locked behind the grate by a mysterious figure. She was banished. Every day, a new rumor grew. However, despite whatever the reason was for her disappearance, the guards' orders brokered no argument.

The first squadron descended early in the morning, twenty strong at the outset. By the time they had reached the Geckle and Munce caverns that night, they only boasted eleven, all disheartened due to the loss of their men. They had faced terrible things in their journey below, speaking of horrific monsters and darkness to the princess. One said that he could swear spiders were crawling on him, descending into a frenzy whenever so much as a hair brushed him. However, the princess refused all their attempts to return home, so their leader came to her personally to ask for her return.

"Princess Vania, we came to find you. So far, nine men have been lost to the quest of finding you. Will you not return with us?"

"I cannot, but I thank you for your service. My father is not the man you know him to be, and I must not return."

"What shall we say to him when we return without you?"

"Tell him that I cannot be found."

Such was the way they returned to the surface, and a second squadron was sent out. This one fared better than the first, ending up with eighteen men when they reached the princess. They spoke of a rushing river and untrustworthy floors, which led to two men's deaths. Their leader came to speak with Vania.

"Princess Vania, we must bring you home. Eleven men so far have perished to find you, and nine of those deaths were futile. Come back to the surface with us."

"I cannot come back with you. My father is a wicked man, intent on using me for his own purposes."

"Surely the king will understand when you return, now knowing what it is like to lose you?"

"I thank you for your loyalty, but I cannot be sure. Go home, officer, and tell him I cannot be found."

The second squadron left the caverns, and Vania was left in peace. She did not meet any more Shintarans for a little while. In time, several more squadrons came to her, each of their leaders speaking to her urgently.

"Princess, we lost twelve men to a rushing river. For their sakes, you must come home!"

"Your highness, my brothers in arms have suffered for this journey, falling into the darkness in these caverns. Will you not return with us?"

"Princess Vania, you have not come home despite all our efforts to bring you to safety. Why do you stay here?"

Despite every plea, Vania refused to return to Shintaro, the ivory city. She spoke to each officer and each guard, having compassion. She eased their nightmares and took care of them, making them comfortable as they rested for the return journey. She thanked them, too, and each swore to keep the secret of her location. Each squadron left the caverns, and Vania was eventually left in peace when no more were sent.

-----

As the princess finished her tale, she addressed another subject.

"The guards were not the only ones to come, either. There were also three adventurers like you."

"They found you too?" Cole asked, knowing it was not much of a question.

She nodded. "They did. They are living in the Munce caverns, while I live with the Geckles. So far, they do not want to leave."

Cole considered these things. "This is not what I was told when I was sent down here. The king did not tell me any of this. I'm sorry, your Highness."

She looked surprised, but took his hand comfortingly. "You don't have to be sorry! My father is a skilled liar; I simply did not see it. He knows full well how to hide the truth."

"That's clear enough for even a stranger to see." Cole turned her hand over in his, rubbing it gently as if to soothe her or himself, and thought about all she had said. She smiled and waited for him to speak, and finally, he did.

"Could I meet the others that were sent?"

Vania nodded. "I will lead you to them. However, you must know that their opinion is no different from mine."

"Regardless, it will make it more clear." He stepped before her. "Princess, your father did not say you ran away. He asked me to save you. I see now he was wrong; you need no saving."

"You are correct." She took his other hand, holding them gently as their roughness brushed against her, so different from her soft, royal hands. "You are not like the men my father feared, are you?"

"I do not think so," he said, slowly and consciously retracting his hands. "You are a princess; who am I to order you to come back to the surface?"

"A good question." She stood and turned to go. "Come with me, I will show you the way."

Cole followed her through the tunnels as she led him, with her following indistinct tunnels like the back of her hand. They passed through caves and caverns, tall and short spaces, light and darkness, all of which she navigated with the ease of someone who had known them all her life. Eventually, she led him to the open cavern where he'd seen her disappear, with the tall doors shut so tightly.

"These are the Geckles caverns. The Downly live here, with me and the Geckles and Chompy. They are likely mining right now."

"Why do they mine? There's plenty of stone all around."

"To open up more caverns. The natural passageways are never enough, and the stone and gems are useful for building. Now, come." She led him into the mine.

They walked for a time before they came upon a group of miners; a mix of the Geckles and Munce, with a dragon hopping about on the floor. At the front of the pack, three humans paved the way by digging out the very tip of the tunnel.

"These are my friends: Murt, Mimble, Molt, Gleck, Grit, and Gipper. The dragon is Chompy." Said creature came to her cheerfully, and she lifted it in her arms, such that it could nuzzle her chin. "He doesn't do any work."

Cole smiled, hesitantly petting the dragon. "Nice dragon…" Vania smiled mischievously and put Chompy in his arms, where he settled and made himself comfortable on the knight's shoulders. Cole watched it nervously. "I don't think this is a good idea."

Vania laughed. "Nonsense! He won't hurt you. The dragons in Ninjago may, but not him." She petted the dragon once more and then led Cole to the humans, and all the while the dragon stayed upon him. She tapped the shoulder of the one with a large hat.

"Fungus, another one has come," she said to him. He turned to Cole and then smiled widely.

"Oh, I see! Welcome, stranger." He nudged his companions– a brutish redhead and a thin roguish one, drawing their attention. "We are the Lowly."

Cole greeted them with a hesitant bow, trying not to drop Chompy. "It's good to meet you."

"You too," the thin one said. "I'm Plundar; these are Fungus and Korgran."

"Korgran is glad to meet you," the other one said.

"You've come for the princess?" Fungus asked.

"Yes, her father sent me."

"He sent us too," Plundar said. "Never sent anybody to look for us, though."

"Korgran abandoned below. The king does not care about the Lowly."

"He asked you to come here?" Cole asked. "He never told me about you, or the guards."

"Of course he would not," Fungus explained. "He would not want to dissuade you, my friend. He wants to return his daughter to his custody more than you know." Vania nodded at this statement. "Shintaro isn't a good place for her."

"That's what she told me," Cole said. "I don't understand. Shintaro is beautiful and safe, and the king wants to protect her. Princess, why would that be bad?"

"He's possessive," Plundar chimed in. "He thinks she's too strong-willed."

Vania shook her head. "My father believes I am a poor heir, too proud and unlike him. He expects I will hurt myself, or worse, destroy his legacy." Vania frowned. "It took escaping to understand that."

Cole paused for a minute, considering all these things. "What should I do, then? I have to go back up."

Chompy gave Cole a dismissive look and leaped off his shoulder, going to weave around Vania's feet. He watched them all as they considered the question.

"Do you? Korgran did not leave," Korgran interjected. "The Lowly are happy here."

"I can't stay," Cole repeated. "And the princess can't either."

Vania nodded. "He's right; I have to go back to the surface. What do we do about my father?"

"You don't have to go to him," Cole said. "You could leave and go somewhere else until it's safe."

"What do you mean? I would go with you?" she asked, looking at him with wide eyes. "Where would we go?"

Cole's heart beat hard in his chest. "Anywhere safe." He met her eyes, unable to avoid noticing how vulnerable she seemed.

"Then it's settled," Fungus said, interrupting them and breaking the moment. "We will go with you, too."

"You will?" Cole asked.

"We can get up a lot easier with a bigger number," Plundar noted. "May as well go together; my mom's waiting for me up top anyway."

"Korgran misses home. All he brought with is his axe, which does not talk." Korgran hefted his pickaxe. "Pickaxe is no good substitute."

"Indeed. In fact, you can call us the Upply now!" Fungus cried, sweeping off his hat. "In honor of our journey."

Vania smiled at them. "Very well. We will go back aboveground together in the morning." She leaned down and patted Chompy. "Cole, you should stay with the Upply. I have to say goodbye to the Geckles and Munce."

Cole nodded. "Thank you, princess." He hesitated for a moment. "I'll keep you safe," he added.

"I know," she said. She picked up Chompy and put him back on her shoulder. "You knights really are as the stories say." With that, she left and walked out of the mine, stopping frequently to talk to different Geckles and Munce. Her fading presence left no room for argument, but Cole found himself unable to speak.

He watched her go, but eventually Cole turned back to the Upply. "Let's go, then."

[akwolfgrl]

Part 23 LFT

"You know, when I was out shopping with Nami and Usopp, I spotted a sex shop, wanna pick up some oil and maybe a few toys? I couldn't stop while with them. Can you imagine Ussop's reaction?” Sanji felt good, really good. The alcohol had left him feeling warm or was that from the man whose hand he was currently holding. He would say their first date had been a success.

“Good idea curls, who knew you had it in ya,” the swordsman teased. “And I can imagine, it would be hilarious, I fear what Luffy would do,”

“Shut up, mossy, it's this way,” Sanji tugged on Zoro's hand as he led him towards the shop. He didn’t want to think about the disturbance Luffy would cause. “Anything off the table?”

“Hmm, no piss or shit.”

“Fuck no, that's disgusting. No face covering, blindfolds or hoods,” It would remind him too much of the iron mask he wore as a child. He did not want to talk about that.

“Gags are useless on me, and I like hearing the noises you make,” Sanji wasn't surprised he had seen the man with a sword in his mouth during his short fight with Mihawk.

“I don't care for gags either,” He admitted. It was more of a taste thing. He swore that the taste lingered on his tongue long after it was removed. The pair of panties that had been shoved in his mouth had been hot at the time, but after a while, he disliked the feel of them in his mouth.

When they entered the store, Sanji let go of Zoro's hand. The other man wandered off through the store as Sanji began to look for his favorite oil. It was a more expensive brand, but it had a relaxing effect, and it had jojoba oil, which also hydrated his skin. He was well aware he was fussy and had tried cheaper ones. At the end of the day, it was his ass so it was his decision. He would not ever settle for spit as someone once suggested.

“Oi love Cook, how do you feel about edging?” Zoro called out lifting a cock ring. Sanji couldn't be embarrassed by the whimper that slipped from his lips, too busy picturing Zoro tormenting him, fucking him over and over again. Unable to cum, begging desperately for Zoro to let him cum. To be used for the other man's pleasure like a toy. “I take that as yes,” The bastard smirked at him.

“Yes that yes it be… neat,” Sanji could feel how hot his face was and how hard his cock was in his slacks. Speaking coherently was not in the cards for him. He cleared his throat and tired again. “I would very much like that,.”

“Look what eles I found,” Zoro the asshole that he was also held up nipple clamps. “I noticed how sensitive your nipples were,”

“Fuck Zoro I want all of that as soon as I find what I'm looking for I'm dragging your ass to the hotel,” Sanji turned away from him to continue his search, he was desperate to find what he was looking for. He finally spotted the blue bottle he was looking for. It was the last one, and it was an extra large bottle. “Perfect!” Sanji quickly snagged the bottle and bought it.

[tenebriism]

❝ Baaaaaabe. ❞ Comes a call from the living room. Nothing of an urgent or distressful quality, merely a beckoning tone. However, when Ignis does finds Cindy, she is lounging upon a fluffy beanbag, finished novel now resting upon ever growing middle, and in a bit of a predicament.

❝ Iggy… ❞ She looks up to him with mossy hues, wide as saucers and a misty resignation to her ordeal. She does not want to cry over this, tries so hard to keep those sudden waves of emotion at bay. But her chin occasionally lifts with each inhale as she stifles down any sobs attempting to break loose.

❝ I think … ❞ she tries in vain to wiggle herself free, ❝ I think m’stuck. ❞ // forever crying over mama and papa scientia (⁠･ั⁠ω⁠･ั⁠)

" --- yes, darling? " His response is immediate, cooking tools already being lowered to the counter so he may prioritize her in full without delay. Since childhood, he has always been overly mindful of tone and response time... NEEDED to be, to keep Noctis alive and out of trouble, for the boy had not been given the easiest or most merciful of health records. Natural, then, that his dutiful advisor would continue this habit even in the presence of others, and especially so, his wife.

Well loved and worn leather protests as he adjusts his gloves before peeking into the room, trying to deduce what need she has of him before having to ask. The remote, is it too far away? Mayhap she is hungry, thirsty? A pregnant woman differs only somewhat from a spoiled prince, in that their needs are largely similar, but Ignis is not against ENCOURAGING the former to make use of him even for the smallest, most mundane of tasks.

Including, but not limited to, helping her from this cushioned prison.

" Oh, darling... " He tries not to laugh, he really, TRULY does, but his amusement is clear as day 'pon his visage even without an audible sign. " 'Tis inevitable that this would occur at some point. You need not feel ashamed. " The moment they'd found out they were to be parents, Ignis had consulted every female he knew for advice and beyond, and read more books and articles than even he could keep track of. One thing that been both notable and recurring? ' Stuck Stories, ' as they had humorously named them. The couch, the car, the bathtub--- it seems every location imaginable, even UNimaginable, made the list of places a woman heavy with child had gotten stuck.

His expression finally stops betraying his endeavor to refrain from making her feel worse, and now, he may focus on freeing her. Lowering to her level, he first plucks the book from the swell of her belly and sets it atop the nearby table to be retrieved later on, before an arm nudges its way 'round her backside for support. Opposite hand slips into hers, and on the count of three, he carefully pulls her upwards and onto her feet with a light grunt.

" There. Welcome back to the world of the upright. Are you okay? " He remembers how it had felt being so helpless. Having to rely on others for the most basic of things whilst he was recovering following the moments after Noctis and Lunafreya had saved him from a self-chosen death. He hadn't been down for long, much to Gladio and Noctis' worry, but the few days his independence had been stripped from him had been agonizing.

Cindy, too, is much like her husband in that she prefers to do everything on her own, oft running herself ragged as a result. 'Tis a wonder they've both made it this far, surviving both daemons and terrible work habits, the latter just as dangerous as the former.

" Come now, do not cry; I've got you. I am here. " He peppers kisses along her cheeks and jawline, hoping to offer a smidgen of comfort in a time where emotions and stress were high, and only certain to worsen as the fated day got closer. " What may I do to make it better? "

@topmechaniic ;;

[idiotwithanipad]

Gore Au: The Witch

(A part 5 of this: https://www.tumblr.com/idiotwithanipad/754120512986300416/gore-au-first-meeting

(Ft @moonah-rose 's OC Silver

(In my Gore AU, all the ghosts memories and mental states are warped due to trauma and time. They're constantly in the mindset they were in moments before their deaths)

"There there, dear ally. Thou doth tremble so, thou doth ache. The pains will slips away. Be still" The witch comforted as her smoke hand drifted beneath the creatures filthy brow. It took a few seconds for the foul vapours to probe through the creature's fried brain and into his hippocampus, digging and searching for the images he'd witnessed on his quest.

The creature's seizing passed and his eyes drifted shut as the pain subsided, melted away like ice by fire.

The witch's eyes also closed, and her charred jaw set tightly as she telepathically delved into her companion's memories.

The dark haired girl did cry so, cry out for her old home. She doth remember her old home, her old mother. A foul wench, nonetheless, but her mother. She did drink more than her fair share of devil's juice and raise her hands to the girl in fury, striking and beating, dragging and screaming.

The child did cry herselfs to sleeps every night, cradle the pillow to her face to catch the tears. She cried even now, but not for her mother, she cried for death. True death. Nothingness. Just so the pains and heartbreaks would cease. Poor child.

My darling girl does cry some nights. No words can describe a mother's dread, the dread of knowing there be nothing to be done to ease such pains. So I do feeds my daughter pictures and stories of beauties and fancies, pretty gowns and jewels. She doth feel betters for it. Anything for my darling girl.

The cloaked one doth try the same as I, but he did never practice. He be all abouts protection and frantics, he doth not sees that his girl wish not to be taken to worlds of fantasy, but to a world that can actually ends.

I did have a husband once. A long times ago. He wouldst love my darling girl so. Very like him she be. He always would be smiling. She hath his smile. My John. My darling girl's da. I would end the milkings of the cow and take her back to the pastures, and I would meets my John on his way back from the fields, a barrow full of turnips usually would he be wheeling.

"'Ello, Mary love!" He would cry, such joy in his voice.

"'Ere! Have a looks at these 'ere turnips. They's grown plentiful this year, they 'ave! Might keeps one back so as for a stew later"

My John did find such wonder in the menial; small things did mean the worlds to my John. Almost anythings could makes him smile so, like our darling girl.

Nothing seemed to make the dark haired girl smile. A shames.

She be a lost child in a place which does frighten her. No voice, no judgement, kept silent by her own body. Perhaps Annie's tutelage would bring her to find her voice again as it did I?

The cloaked one is not cruel, but concerned and compelled to be on his guards all the day and nights. I do knows how he feels, I am in such way with my darling girl. We do have much in commons. The girl doth bare no threats, no cruelty, no blackmails.

The witch retracted her smokey hand from the creature's brain, the air catching in his lungs as the numbness faded away. The witch's dry eyes peeled open as she watched her companion drop to his knees.

"Thanks ye, ally. Thou hath gathered all I must know. Go now. Rest and be still. I will calls you when needed" The witch praised, patting the creatures cranium gently before turning away from him and stepping back over to the mossy log which her child still slept on.

The creature gave a drowsy nod and got to his knuckles, clumsily trudging on all fours back to the lake; he needed to make the most of his now silenced brain while he could, the madness would come back soon.

The witch's scorched face seemed to soften as she pressed a skeletal hand against the girl's shoulder, softly shaking her.

"Wakes up now, darling girl. Mummy needs a word"

The pink fringed girl's eyes cracked open and blinked, her clouded pupils adjusting to the ambient forest light.

"Morning Mummy. Did I sleep long? Feels like it's been ages!" The girl beamed despite the pinch of fatigue that peppered her words.

"Not too longs, dear girl. I's had a think, and- Mummy needs a favour from you" The witch smiled behind her dry blackened teeth. The teen righted herself on the log and seemed giddy at the prospect of getting the chance to help her mother in any way.

"Yes! What is it mummy? Do you want me to bring you back a crystal from the great palace? A tiara of diamond from the empress?" She smiled brightly, the memories of her fantasy land flooding forward.

The witch smiled fondly and held the girls hands.

"No darling girl, all those beautiful things be for you to keeps. Mummy just needs to see something from you. But you must holds still~"

The witch smiled, her upreaching hand once again turning to smoke.

[sillyromance]

Good day everyone!

Here is my new story (WARNING: long writing). Characters: Pred! Sacura (OC)/Prey! Drift (TF RID).

Sacura is my new character; she's an autobot with two alt-modes, one of which is a dragon (the eastern one). While in the "beast" form, she can switch sizes from tiny (a usual snake) to huge(literally a train). So, she is definitely a "switch" in vore community. And... this exactly what everything is about!

I hope you'll enjoy!

They were in the garden surrounding a ruined castle in the mountains. Huge branches of wild, overgrown trees rustled above, hiding two alien visitors from the evil summer sun. Cool shadows danced on the cracked mossy rocks of an ancient human building, creating a surrealistic illusion of mystery and quiet, poetic tragedy. It was a perfect spot for meditation; Drift found it by accident some days ago and it was the first time he took Sacura with him.

They got comfy nearby one immense oak and led a simple, calm conversation.

- I wonder... - Drift's gaze switched to his wife. - How do you feel when I... swallow you?

Young fem stopped watching clouds passing blue lakes and streams of the sky which was hiding behind the roof of the ancient plants - and gave him a curious look. She turned onto the belly and put her helm on both palms; the samurai, embarrassed by his question and her immediate attention, looked away and cleared his throat.

- I mean... I can see well only my side of the story. Your little body passing my lips, your sweet flavour on my glossa, then stretching of my throat when it pushes you deeper into me... - He was slowly tracing the path from his chin to the start of his neck. - And the moment when I feel my waist weighs; the armour moves under my servos as you slip inside the fueltank, unconsciously rubbing it with your tiny hands and feet...

The samurai sighed deeply, recalling the moment. His wife smiled, blushing.

- However... - Drift's tone became serious again. - I have never asked you what it is like - to be consumed that way... And sometimes I doubt if you like all of this as much as I do. Doesn't it scary when you see my mouth open wide? My dents are so sharp that they can just slice you on two with a slight pressure. Or the second you see daylight fading and you slide along the dark esophagus? My sparkbeat must be deafing, and metal muscles squeeze you too tightly... And all these liquids...

Sacura made an interrupting gesture, then layed her hand on his knee and stroked it reassuringly.

- I don't have any discomfort when you send me to your insides. Actually, it's very pleasant - like a big warm hug from everywhere. Or a blanket wrapped around your entire body. Moreover... I can easily read your emotions while in there. - Drift narrowed his optics in disbelief but the fem simply laughed. - Yes, I do. Because at such time I am literally surrounded by you. I hear your systems working, energon circulating through your veins; listen to unsatisfied groans when something annoys you - or sense you relaxing when everything is exactly like you want it to be... It's strange. It's like I'm a part of you then; it affects me strongly. And at the meantime... it comforts me a lot.

She took his large, rough servo and started fondling its small scars and lines.

- If I could show you...

Some leaves fell down the tree at her back and shoulders; Drift leaned to her side and gently swiped them off. Her smooth, round forms seemed so vulnerable... Every time he touched her the only thing which wandered in his processor was: "She looks like a sparkling! How can an autobot be so helpless?"

He smirked to himself. Yeah... This "helpless" autobot could kill him without any problems if she would like to. What a joke of nature! - to give such enormous power to a small and friendly girl who freaks out to hurt a butterfly!

Meanwhile, Sacura suddenly winced and stared at her husband with a decisive look in her optics - she had come up with something.

- Well, perhaps I can...

The samurai rose his eyebrow.

- My second alt-mode. It's big enough to fit you.

Drift's faceplate didn't change even a little, but the mech recognised cool tickles going down his spine section.

- I guess so, darling.

The fem heard hardly noticeable tension in his voice and edges of her lips lowered. She looked down at the grass beneath her and spoke, vocaliser crackling of shame.

- Oh... I'm sorry. It isn't a good idea, I guess... If you are against it, I will never in my life...

Drift's cheeks immediately became blue.

- I didn't mean it, dear! It's just... confusing.

He turned her face back to his and gave the fem a soft kiss.

- Remember - I'm not afraid of you, whatever shape you have. Whatever weapons you have. I'm sure you wouldn't harm anyone you care about, and if you care about me - you won't make me suffer. - He paused and smiled warmly. - I think... We could commit the thing you're talking about. At least, it will help us understand each other better. Don't you agree?

Her face was immediately brightened up with happiness like a cloudy day with sunlight. Without any hesitation she desperately embraced her orange lover; Sacura's energy made them both inevitably crush on the ground. The pair laughed loudly at the occasion, making birds around scream and fly away...

............

Drift hadn't ever seen her THAT big before; and he was impressed by the size she took - her head was as large as his entire being! Now, in her dragon mode, Sacura could make anybody go offline just with her threatening appearance. Someone would say it had been a terrifying view: endless silver body, long fangs glowing under her upper lip, sharp claws on four huge, bareboned paws, strong and heavy tail with poisoned needles hidden beneath the scales...

Regardless, he personally found her magnificent.

Sacura approached her husband after the transformation had been ended - and cautiously nuzzled her elegant elongated muzzle in his shoulder. Unfortunately, she couldn't speak normally until she would get into her "human" form again, so touches and wild, animal sounds were all she could use to communicate with him. Drift noticed a shadow of inconfidence in her flaming eyes.

- You look perfect, my star. As always. - He cuddly scratched behind Sacura's audio sensors what made the dragon whine with pleasure. - Don't worry. I've already warned Bumblebee that we're going to "walk" for some more hours. I'm ready.

She nodded. Her jaws parted, letting the samurai observe a wet, glowing cavern, surrounded by steely knives of teeth. He felt hot air blowing out of the predator's maw, washing around his face, and couldn't help but shivered when her glossa draw a thin slimy line from his feet to the chassis. In spite of his fear, Drift didn't stop his darling. At first, he was a soldier who had fought in hundreds of battles; what an embarrassment it would be to back out when he had already gone so far! At the second - the mech seeked for the knowledge. He had to see what she was going through with him. And, observing a starving depths of the beast's maw which was ready to make him disappear at any second, he immediately felt sincere respect to how calm and willing she had always been to enter his own mouth.

Overcoming unexpectedly awoken instincts, Drift got closer and forced his hand to explore the dragon's shining, scabrous, wet tongue. He was going to lie on it soon after all...

The tongue wriggled amusingly of his action and curled affectionately around his servo, creating circles higher and higher, until his entire manipulator was captured in a warm trap. Nervous gigle escaped the mech.

- Well, what do you think?.. How do I taste like? - Frozen like a statue, Drift asked with edge in his voice. He'd like to pretend he was fine, but it was hard to trick his own wife.

Sacura freed Drift's arm and shut her mouth, disappointed. She peered at her surprised husband and let out a pleading moan.

- I'm not going to give up, girl. I'm all right.

She snuggled into him once more, looking at his strict face with deep sadness and doubt in the optics. He granted her a nice rub between the antennas.

- I believe, we should go ahead.

He courageously gave her his hands, so she could start over with tasting him - the dragon slowly accepted the favour, being more thoughtful and patient than before, letting Drift's mind process that there were nothing to worry about. Sacura, definitely enjoying every moment, licked his fingers, went to wrists, then to elbows... Their looks met again - he smiled reassuringly and titled his head down. The craving abyss appeared in front of him again, pouring with saliva. It needed him so badly... This time the samurai wasn't so merciless to the fem - he basically pushed himself into her ravenous jaws.

They caught and lovingly held him. Her hot glossa started working more actively, trying to reach every inch of Drift's voluminous body. He could sense how fast he was loosing an ability to move; his limbs became languorous and sticky, deadly exhaustion flood all around his tough body. The samurai was already too weak to keep his helm up; finally, he just put it on the fem's tongue, looking sleepily on its ribbed crimson surface. If he decided to struggle for some reason, he wouldn't succeed... Kinda pathetic...

Suddenly, a long, vibrating sound filled the room. His "ears" focused on the resonating, soothing rattling which shook every corner of his system blocks.

Sacura was purring.

Drift sent his concerns into the oblivion at the very moment he understood what the noise was. Thoughts about his own well-being were replaced with the ones about his wife's pleasure. He was the reason she was feeling that good. He gave her this bliss. Drift recalled the day when he swallowed her for the first time - it was... Undescribable. Fascinating. He had her whole; he felt her harsh sparkbeat, her clumsy squirming in his mouth before he made a gulp. He could remember delight of her deliciousness... Now, their roles got switched. And he was certain she loved it.

Finally, the pressure of her jaws increased; the dragon rose her head and let Drift smoothly slip into a small hole right before him. He heard an audible "glrk" with which his shoulders and shest were tugged further into the darkness of her throat.

It was a series of strong, dry, quick swallows, painful for a pred, but ineffective. Her husband never was miniaturous to say the least! Nevertheless the fem didn't stop the process - now it was only the way down for him, she do much more harm, trying to cough him out.

The mech noticed that his girl was in trouble; Sacura surely required some assistance. He began to shift a little, making his waist and hips come along - he was aware of how wide and bulky he was, and how it must be difficult for her to get over with it. The tightness of the tube he was going through seemed almost unbearable, and ironically, he felt guilty for the thick layers of metal which made him so hard to devour.

But their combined actions worked - the gulps slowed down, became calmer and visibly easier. The space around was still cramped, but it didn't crush the samurai any more; it was truly like a warm, plushie hug, pulsating with care and overwhelming love. This body demanded him to be its guest - he knew it in the very spark. And he was glad to give in himself to it as an earned prise for every time Sacura presented herself as a treat for her husband. He accepted the fact that he had to forget about his powers for this moment; he managed to see what his girl ment when she once said: "I wanna be a good prey for you". She deserved him to be submissive now, no matter his warrior pride.

At last, after some minutes of squeezing and pulling, Drift arrived at the fueltank. It greeted him with a friendly gurgling and soft blue light shining from the streaks crossing squishy, tender walls. For the first few seconds the mech felt himself hanging as if he was in a kind of hammock which swayed beneath him non-stop, although this situation didn't last long - Sacura layed herself on the ground and turned on the side, giving space to her enormous, bulging stomach.

She looked at it with mixture of relief and disbelief. She swallowed him whole. He was in there, surrounded by her; she could feel every movement her husband was making, settling down in depth of her growling stomach. It was so incredible... but wrong. It should have been... vice versa. He was stronger, wiser, older than her; he was a leader in their companionship, her "master". And meanwhile, he was in a position of a weaker one now. She literally had his life in her servos. And if she had been an enemy of his, then...

.

Sacura got terrified by this thought.

She carefully put an open paw on her round, swollen belly and stroked it gently. The mech inside "returned" the touch, pressing exactly at the place she was caressing. Purring like a big cat, the dragon eagerly embraced her stomach and leaned her head closer to the deformed metal. She would never harm him. Never in the world.

.....

Drift was trying to get use to the place he got into. Everything was unstable, elastic, tender - alive; he was afraid that just his presence in here could do harm to his beloved because of how velvety tender her fueltank appeared to be. "This must be what she sees when she gets into my core" - he mumbled to himself, looking at squishy lumps all around him. Glowing wrinkly walls were grabbing his legs and arms with mischief and great interest as if they had a mind of their own; his body was sinking into them, being massaged, gently squeezed all over. It was...nice. He silently watched how every part of him was getting examined and generously soaked in scintillating mint-colour slime. He predicted it could be like that, he didn't care much; Drift would take a shower after anyways. The samurai found a comfortable position and closed his optics, listening to Sacura's distant sparkbeat, deep ventilating, tranquil rumbling - and his own emotions.

It was still hard to process that he was staying in his wife's "stomach". Especially, because he was absolutely helpless. He left his katanas outside. It was necessary, but at the meantime... He was just one step apart from death. The samurai felt so small and helpless that it almost drove him mad. But at that moment he noticed something changing. One of the walls leaned to him, moved by something from the outside; this thing affectionately drew circles on Drift's arm and chassis through the flexible flesh. It didn't take much time for the samurai to realise it was his wife caressing his body. Fury flew away from his spark as fast as it came. He stroke her back and felt Sacura wince in delight. The room slightly tightened around Drift; now he noticed silhouettes of two big paws laying on her belly, hugging his entire form - and a press of something larger right next to his head. The bot could swear it was her helm.

He snuggled into the warm wet muscles and finally relaxed, letting the surrounding do whatever it wanted with him.

Before she was his. Now, he is hers.

Sometimes it's important to see everything from a different angle.

[sophswritingthings]

Longstar AU — Chapter Five

    “SWIFTPAW—“ Longtail's mew cracked as he yelped, rushing toward his apprentice, battered and bloodied. Brightpaw lay beside him, looking practically the same, covered in blood and lifeless. “C'mon, Swiftpaw, you can’t…”

    “Longtail,” Whitestorm nudged his shoulder, Longtail's breathing heavy. “Let’s get them back to camp and checked out by Cinderpath before we make any conclusions. And quickly.” He glanced over his shoulder at Fireheart, who nodded.

    He grabbed Swiftpaw by his scruff, sliding the small black and white apprentice onto his back. His pelt was torn apart, and his front leg twisted to the left. He shook his head, padding forward toward ThunderClan camp. Whitestorm and Fireheart did the same with Brightpaw, following him back to camp.

    Ignoring all gazing cats, he made a beeline for the medicine den. Cinderpath stirred inside, messing with her herbs. At the sight of Longtail's shadow, she glanced at him.

    “Longtail? What is—“

    “Swiftpaw and Brightpaw,” He hurriedly mewed. “They were attacked by.. something and they’ve both been hurt really bad.”

    “Put him down in a nest,” Cinderpath meowed calmly, gesturing toward a mossy nest. Longtail slid the apprentice off his back into the nest. Soon, Fireheart and Whitestorm appeared, doing the same with Brightpaw. “.. Oh. Wow. Alright, clear out. I need my space to work, go and clean yourselves up.” Cinderpath crowded the three tom's out of the den.

    “C'mon,” Whitestorm nudged Longtail. “Let’s go get cleaned up in the river.”

    “You two go along,” Fireheart meowed. “I'll be fine.”

    “If you say so,” Whitestorm dipped his head respectfully, herding Longtail out of the camp.

    His head was racing like a frightened mouse, trying to escape the claws of its predator. What if Swiftpaw died? His first apprentice, and he couldn’t even handle keeping him safe. Maybe he wasn’t as trustworthy as he thought he could be, if he couldn’t even handle one small cat.

    Longtail and Whitestorm reached the river, wading softly into the warm water and gentle rippling waves.

    “Whitestorm?” Longtail said softly, glancing at the older white tom. “.. Am I a bad warrior?”

    “Hm?” Whitestorm gazed at him, “Where’s that coming from?”

    “No cat seems to trust me,” He shook his head softly. “Especially not Fireheart. I’m loyal to ThunderClan. Well, I think I am. But a-am I? I was friends with a traitor..”

    “Longtail,” Whitestorm mewed firmly. “You're talking like you have bees in your brain, and I know you don’t,” His whiskers twitched. “Your a smart, loyal cat. You trusted someone you shouldn’t have, but we all did. We all trusted Tigerstar.”

    “But I let my apprentice get hurt, and possibly die,” Longtail hissed the words with pain to his mew. “If I had pushed for him to be a warrior, and kept a better eye on him maybe he wouldn’t be hurt. And neither would Brightpaw.”

    “That isn’t your fault,” Whitestorm narrowed his yellow eyes. “He made that decision on his own. You’ve been pushing for him to get a warrior name, as well as the other apprentices, you did what you could. My aunt is.. not well, and not thinking right. You did what you could, Longtail.”

    “.. Thank you, Whitestorm.” Longtail murmured, gazing up at the large white tom.

    “Your welcome, Longtail. You're my clan mate, after all.” He smiled softly. “Now, finish cleaning up and we'll get back to camp and rest, okay?”

    Longtail dipped fully into the water, swiftly sliding out and shaking out his fur. Whitestorm did the same, and the two padded back to camp, slipping back into the warriors den.

     “Cinderpath..?” Longtail poked his head into the den, “Can I come in..?”

     “Yes, Longtail,” Cinderpath mewed unenthusiastically, “You can come in.”

     Slowly, he padded inside, gazing at the back of the den. Cinderpath flicked her tail.

     “.. Are they awake?” He questioned, flattening his ears.

     “No, but alive and breathing steadily,” She turned her blue gaze on Longtail, “They'll be fine.”

    “.. Will they be able to become warriors?”

    “Yes,” She gave a gentle nod. “If they were going to allow me to become a warrior with my leg, they'll definitely be able to. And if they aren’t allowed, Bluestar and Fireheart will be hearing from me. Brightpaw is my little sister, and Swiftpaw is still my kin.”

    “.. Thank you,” Longtail murmured.

    Cinderpath rested her tail on his shoulder, “Of course,” She mewed, pressing her nose to his cheek. “Now, stop clogging up my den so I can do my work, okay?”

    Longtail twitched his whiskers, “Okay, okay.” He backed up out of the den, being greeted with Fireheart behind him.

    “How are they?” Fireheart questioned.

    “Alive,” He replied coarsely.

    “That’s good,” He mewed with a sigh. “I was just about to visit.”

    “Alright,” He glanced away. “.. I’m gonna just.. go find Mousefur.” Longtail mumbled, padding around the ThunderClan deputy.

    He approached the small, dusky brown she-cat, flopping down beside her. Mousefur glanced at him, looking at him with a puzzled expression.

    “What’s your problem, huh?” She meowed questioningly. “In fact, you’ve seemed super down lately.”

    “I’m just tired of everything,” Longtail mumbled, resting his head on his paws. “I just wanna feel like I’m a normal part of the clan again.”

    “What? You are,” Mousefur cocked her head.

    “But I’m not,” Longtail took in a deep breath. “Nobody trusts me anymore. Even if they say they do, and it’s the same with Darkears. Though, they have a reason to not trust him.” He glared at the dark tabby tom across the way, “Fireheart is always suspicious of me. He basically said so.”

    “Sometimes I think he has bees in his brain,” Mousefur shrugged. “Going behind his leaders back to arrange a meeting with another leader, telling them our secrets.”

    “I agree,” Longtail twitched his ears. “At least I have you to talk to. If I didn’t I would have gone crazy by now.” He looked at the she-cat with a smile.

    “Same to you,” Mousefur returned his smile.

    “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey, gather beneath the High Rock for a clan meeting.”

    Longtail turned, seeing Bluestar atop of the high rock again. The meetings were becoming weirdly frequent; maybe she was getting better. He thought ThunderClan could get better, that they weregetting better.

    But that was probably just wishful thinking, wasn’t it?