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finalgirllx · 2 months

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thunderstorms

took some heavy liberties with week 3 of @thatdammchickennugget and i's jinxed july challenge to write the forced proximity mattheo riddle fic of my dreams. i hope you enjoy it just as much as i do. and also big thanks to @pizzaapeteer for proofing, i love you! 2.5k words | fluff? i think | f!reader implied

Snap. Another twig breaks underneath the tattered soles of your shoes while you continue the trek along the less-traveled grove. The air is thick with the scent of wildflowers and earth, and sunlight filters down on you through the leafy branches, casting shadows on the greenery that litters the forest floor. It is pristine, seemingly unaffected by too much human activity.

That is until Mattheo and you embarked on an increasingly futile mission imposed by your one common interest - your mutual friend Enzo. He had eagerly insisted that it be the two of you that forage for an ingredient native to the area, claiming that adding it to a drink mix can get you wasted quicker than any brew sold in shops.

The pair of you had done well not to stumble too far from Enzo's parents' summer home. A generous invitation had been offered to your friend's group - a chance to relax and kick back there over the long weekend. A relatively secluded area, it is sparsely populated by second homes of the upper class or rickety cabins so old that not even magic can prevent them from slowly succumbing to the elements. Everyone tries to enjoy the spoils of the location's offerings, as it is a sweet spot to spend the few warmer months in Britain.

"Y'know, I am not an outdoorsy guy," Mattheo complains after another branch scrapes his forearm. "This is the dumbest mission Enzo could have sent us on."

"At least we can agree on one thing," you mutter exasperatedly. "I should have known you'd have no sense of your lefts and rights."

Two steps ahead of you, Mattheo pauses and looks back, his expression suggesting, 'You want to go there?' His brows raise, and his chocolate curls still fall perfectly over his forehead despite endless collisions with twigs and branches. Honestly, you were unsure if his looks or personality irked you more. You glare back so he knows exactly how you feel about the situation.

"Right, take no accountability for being one-half of why we are still out here," Mattheo responded in kind, then turning back to continue leading the way.

"You are rid-"

"Ridiculously handsome? I know. Come up with some new material, sweetheart," Mattheo interrupts with his unending cocky attitude. Preparing to unleash more insults, you are startled by the feeling of a cold drop on your head. Then another. And another.

A loud clap echoes above, booming in the sky, followed shortly by the rapid motion of overcast clouds moving in, blocking out any remaining sunlight. A second roar of thunder bursts, sending out another warning that a storm is fast approaching. The sudden singular drop quickly builds into a consistent shower, and the panic sets in over the both of you. Mattheo takes charge, gesturing for you to follow him and for once, you decide to take his lead without talking back, which might have been a mistake as you continue deeper into the forest and further away from the house.

Minutes felt like hours under the increasingly ceaseless downpour as you and Mattheo scrambled through the grove. Finally spotting an old cabin structure, you make a break for it and dash underneath the awning for some reprieve. Mattheo vigorously jiggles the knob of the dilapidated door, seeming to forget his wizarding abilities. Propelled by a clash of thunder, you watched Mattheo resort to brute force, managing to barrel through the door and get you two inside.

Solely focused on escaping the pouring sky, you follow him in while heaving from the chaos.

"Nice going, genius," you admonished Mattheo while catching your breath. "Forget a first-year unlocking charm?"

"Ungrateful as ever," Mattheo responds gruffly, his amusement overshadowed by temporary exhaustion as he steps over and shuts the door that is barely held up on its hinges. "See? I got you out of the rain, and the door still works."

The two of you take some time to shake yourselves off in a meager effort to eliminate that soaked feeling. Squeezing out your top, you silently curse at the unpleasantness of your damp hair that now clings to your face. You looked over and watched Mattheo shaking his head, his hair splattering leftover water all over the vicinity.

"You're like a wet dog," you feign disgust, unable to resist a chance to tease.

"What else am I expected to do?" Mattheo countered, brushing his hands through his hair and hoping for the best.

"Be more tasteful with it," you suggested, suppressing a snort afterward at your own poor choice of words.

"Tasteful? You seriously went with tasteful?" Mattheo caught on, his disgruntled look from the uncomfortable wet transforming into a grin. "Bloody hell, sweetheart, I know you love my perfect curls, but that really is the least of my concerns."

You coped by turning away to continue drying yourself off, hoping he did not see your disconcerted expression.

Once Mattheo reached a state of dampness he could live with, he stepped toward the intact windows to watch the storm outside. It was miraculous that a cabin as worse for wear as this one held its own against the onslaught.

"Well, we might be stuck here for some time. I suggest you get comfortable," Mattheo announced with a resigned sigh, glancing back to the room for potential spots to sit or, more accurately, the lack thereof. "The floor. The floor will do."

He follows through, eyeing spaces on the rickety floorboards to settle down. You roll your eyes at the idea, though the increasing weight of your legs after all that running starts to wear on you and beckon you down. So you give in, finding your own spot to settle, a perfectly reasonable distance from him. His eyes bore into you with an unreadable expression, a bit too analytical for your comfort. You are not too fond of him watching your every move. Not at all.

"Could you look elsewhere? I am not your prey to stalk," you finally snap.

"What? This is just how I look at things. You cannot blame me; it is either you or the rotting walls," Mattheo retorts, emphasizing his point with a gesture of his hands.

"Your eyes are… they look too hard!" you complain amidst a struggle to find the right way to explain why his gaze ruffled you so much.

"Too hard? She thinks I look too hard, whatever the hell that means. Salazar, help us, a true wordsmith in the midst," Mattheo complained to himself, ensuring his frustration was loud enough to invite further squabbling.

"I am just saying! Look elsewhere!" you insisted.

"I can't help it. You are more interesting-looking," Mattheo justified through gritted teeth, his increasing annoyance evident.

"Interesting-looking? And you accuse me of being unable to talk today. Is that meant to be a compliment?"

"Tell me you would not have my head if I called you pretty, so interesting it is!" Mattheo growled in a harsh but earnest tone. He shook his head, jaw clenched to the point of discomfort over what he admitted. Just to add to the pettiness, he scooted to face even further away from your direction.

This development undoubtedly took you by surprise, silencing you momentarily in your conversation. You always had a comeback for Mattheo, but this was the first time you had absolutely no clue how to retaliate.

"Pretty?" you repeated, pushing aside your dignity to clarify you had heard correctly.

"Yes, pretty," Mattheo confirmed, his voice huskier than the bellowing moments prior. "Is that such a shock to you?"

It honestly did feel like a shock. In all the time you had known each other, the words you exchanged were cheeky at best and plain disrespectful at worst. A more tender way of describing you was not something you expected to come from Mattheo at all.

"It is. I thought I was just your favorite punching bag," you admitted.

"Oh, please. Do you honestly believe I would answer you at all if I really could not stand you? Perhaps you are more dimwitted than I initially presumed."

"I just thought—"

"And given that I have seen you quite literally punch some poor bloke who truly bothered you, I assumed you fell into a similar train of thought, no?"

Hell, you hated it when he was right. Something about Mattheo kept you coming back for more in a way that couldn't simply be attributed to the proximity of your friend group. The feelings creeping up inside you now had less to do with being stuck in a cabin with him through a storm and more with how this predicament forced you to come to terms with how you truly felt. You visibly shifted where you sat as feelings you had no clue how to handle washed over you more intensely than the rain still pouring outside.

Mattheo rose again without warning and stalked around the cabin, this time on a mission.

"What are you doing?"

"A blanket, a towel. Something to warm you up," he replied, his attention fixed on his newfound goal, which was an insatiable need to help and protect you in your wetted state.

"You do not have to! It will probably be full of mildew should you even find one," you protested through your sheer surprise at his kind gesture.

Initially written off as too damp to use, the fireplace centered on the cabin's back wall was suddenly vital to Mattheo's mission. Finally remembering that he was a wizard, Mattheo reached into his back pocket, pulled out his wand, and crouched in front of the fireplace.

"Incendio…" he spoke the incantation, causing a flame to spout from his wand toward the firewood on top of the grate, hoping they were not too far gone from the elements.

To your shared relief, a small fire came to life before your eyes, its glow brightening your dampened spirits which was soon followed by an embrace of its much-needed heat.

"Yes!" Mattheo hissed excitedly, hurriedly gesturing you to come closer, and you did. The previous distance you had created no longer mattered, as you were now shoulder-to-shoulder with him for a chance to enjoy the warmth provided by the lit fireplace.

With the both of you too focused on warming up by the crackling flames and learning to ignore the blaring storm outside, peaceful silence hung in the air. A mutual respect arose between you as you ruminated over the afternoon's events.

You glanced at Mattheo, whose shoulder you were now definitely pressed against, and seized the opportunity to check him out shamelessly. He was right; that penetrative gaze remained even in his resting state. The light from the fire highlighted the warmth in his eyes that usually matched the dark of night, and his brown locks that had dried into bouncy coils perfectly suited his chiseled structure. The last remaining baby fat on his cheeks softened his enigmatic look, especially in more calm instances such as this. Few were treated to such a view of him, let alone have the capacity to appreciate it like you did. Wait - appreciating him? He seems to catch on simultaneously, the corners of his lips twitching in satisfaction over your turn to gaze.

"I am not your prey to stalk," he abruptly spoke up in a high-pitched, mocking tone to mimic your previous dramatics. You pushed your shoulder against him further as a hollow threat to get him to quit his teasing.

"You look too hardddd."

"Stopppp," you plead, pressing against him again, which causes him to turn to you finally. That stupid, intense gaze again was now much too close for comfort.

Mattheo scoops your hands into his larger, calloused ones, suddenly enclosing yours. He begins rubbing them, his touch creating a friction that warms your fingers, and despite your confusion, you don't immediately pull away.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to warm you up."

"It is still summer. They are not that cold, really…"

"Let me just have this excuse to hold your hands," Mattheo says hushedly, shutting down all of your protests. His touch is comforting, so you allow it.

"Forward this evening, are we?" you still can not resist asking with a raised brow.

"Maybe. But when else will we be trapped for a night like this?" Mattheo was right again, blasted. The bubbling chemistry was now utterly unavoidable, and this night was simply the catalyst for this new beginning.

Still, it was so recent that you likely would not change your behavior towards each other once you returned to your friends, who were probably worried sick about your whereabouts. The storm was still raging, so you just accepted that it would be easier to call it a night instead of waiting for it to pass or even worse; risking your safety by trudging through it. You silently agreed with Mattheo to let this evening run its natural course, showing your reciprocated feelings by allowing him to continue creating friction with your hands via a similar technique used to make a fire.

The rest of the evening went by uneventfully as you cozied up to each other, finding yourself leaning more into him as your lids grew heavier with tiredness.

Mattheo took on the role of a pillow, pressing his back to the floor and letting you lay against him, going as far as draping your leg over his and resting your head on his chest. The resistant part of you wanted to claim this was merely to survive the night, but Merlin, he was easy to sink into. No longer fighting the call of rest, your last conscious moment was the feeling of Mattheo pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before sleep took over.

—-------------

The chirping of birds and light rays seeping into the small windows of the cabin signaled it was time to wake up. You two had stayed wrapped up in each other for the night, which was probably the sole reason you felt at all rested.

The warm embrace of Mattheo kept you tucked cozily into his arms, providing a warmth that was now overwhelmingly hot in the morning summer heat. Suddenly, the chatter of approaching voices traveled around the hollowness of the cabin before the distinctive voice of Enzo called out. "It only took a dangerous thunderstorm to bring you two together," he remarked, a wicked grin matching his chirpy tone. You looked up to meet his gaze through the cracked window, which illuminated your intimate position with Mattheo. The cheeky disturbance startled Mattheo awake with a jump, groaning at the loud intrusion of his mates' voices.

You observed through squinted eyes as Mattheo and Enzo began quarreling. Amidst the light-hearted chaos, you heard snippets like 'It's not what it looks like!' and 'The ingredients search was a load of bollocks, wasn't it?' The goal to save face came second to your relief at rejoining your friends.

A ruse that had gotten way out of hand landed you in the last place you would have expected this morning, but the possibilities it offered left you nervous but hopeful. You watched a bit longer before stretching and getting up to join, armed with your own silly defenses over why you were caught in Mattheo's arms as the lot of you made your way back to the summer home.

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle fluff #slytherin #slytherin boys #theodore nott #jinxedjuly #jinxedjulychallenge

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ladybyakuya · 23 days

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| SIDE EFFECTS + SAKUSA KIYOOMI.

+cw. — fem!reader, established relationship, ( domestic ) fluff, love & comfort, slight angst, mature language, atsumu being atsumu, mention of hinata and bokuto. beta-read by my beloved ray.

+wc. — 1.2k

+syn.— Sakusa has gotten used to you pretty quick ever since he started living with you but now that he has known the bliss, he does not want to go back to living alone.

+notes. — this is for flufftober ‘fond moments’ collab event for a prompt: quality time hosted by @spookuna. mdni cuz im eighteen plus blog.| redirect to blog navigation. & tagging @tetzoro for poking my pineal glad with a question that became a inspo for this <3

For almost a month, Kiyoomi has had an odd extension of routine that starts after his matches. It starts with going straight home ( to you ), and eating the dishes you made for him which was suggested by a dietitian of course! and then wait at least one hour before hitting the shower, and that too, a cold one since right after he is done drying himself he jumps into bed just to hold you amongst his chest like a hot bag; this . . .this particular moment is what he has been looking forward to for months and now it has finally become a part of his life, and if things do not go south then it might just last for the rest of his life. Just barely thinking of it gets him wide awake. If life was a sleepless dream, then he would not mind sleeping forever at the end of it with you.

Today, however, everything turned upside down. He came home a little late, just a little; ate silently without talking much. Generally, he turns into a yapper right when he sees you. He has so much to talk about yet even with all that bubbling enthusiasm he still does not forget to ask, “Babe, how was your day?”, “Aw, babe that’s amazing. I’m so proud of you.”, “What? Need me to scare the manager? Because I can.” he says while flexing his muscles wearing nothing but a towel around his torso but you know he won’t do that since he has the confidence that you can handle anything all by yourself. After all, you scared the shit out of Miya when you first met him and he will not accept but, indeed, Miya is not easily scared, especially by girls. However, this evening his responses were full of— “umm.” and “umhm” — nods and sneaking glances. The Kiyoomi that is reserved for the world has come home to you today.

And that one-hour gap, between his dinner and shower, which is generally filled with listening to you as you roam around the house and work and he follows you like a puppy is filled with frequent calls, messages, and screen time today. It sure makes you worry if not disappointed or angry. It has been a month since you two started living together, so this one hour has always been filled with making this small apartment a place that you both could call “home.” Things were slowly falling into place, turning this place into a home. You were happy, and Kiyoomi? He was the happiest man in the world.

However, crest-fallen.

Sakusa came out of the bathroom freshly showered when you were folding his clothes. Now that he can see your back properly without any thoughts lingering in his mind you look tired, sad, and perhaps. . . a little annoyed. Maybe it is not a good time to tell you the news after all but what else he can do, he does not have much time left either. He tip-toes his way towards you, slowly.

“C’mon out with it, omi. What’s up?” You say and turn towards him with a bunch of his clothes in your hand only to face a half-naked Sakusa, a pink towel wrapped around his torso, his hands in the air branching out in a form of embrace. You chuckle as you walk off to his closet but his stance remains intact just his head following you;

his jaw drops as he enquires with utmost curiosity, “How do you always know?” which earns him just an endearing glance from you. You keep the stack of his clothes on the shelf, one by one as he finally says what has been bothering him. “I have to move out. . .to Osaka.” You had to pause before keeping the last t-shirt on the stack of clothes. Your hand is still on the edge of the closet wooden frame since you know the moment you close it— is the moment you have to face such a warped reality where you would be alone in this newly bought apartment, with no omi to wait for, cook for, or take care of. . .

As if he could read your thoughts he mumbles sharply. “Babe, turn around.” He must be still in that pink towel. The air conditioner is on but it seems that he does not mind the cold today. You slowly turn around closing the cupboard with your hands at the back biting your lower lip in anticipation thinking if Kiyoomi had to tell you about moving out to you, then he must have tried all the possibilities of either staying here with you or taking you with him yet none of them must have worked because if it had, you two would not be standing so apart like two curtains drawn apart.

“Oh dear God,” Kiyoomi groans as he clutches your wrist pulling you into himself. He makes you sit on the edge of the bed while he sits on the floor, legs folded keeping his head on your lap as he draws lazy patterns on the side of your thighs with both hands, simultaneously. “I never thought I’d fall in love even though I’ve planned it in my notebook ever since I was a kid.” He turns his head up, “Now that my love is here I want to keep it, safe, forever.” The water from his hair has left spots on your long tee. You run your nails through his scalp and he lets out a low even groan saying, “So, I took a week off to spend time with you and of course to get the packing done.” He has to rake his eyes open since the exhaustion blended with being sleepy along with your tender touch is too tempting not to give in.

“What?” You ask, surprised. “You did it for me?”

“Yeah. ‘course. Why wouldn’t I?”

A black pup tip-toes its way into the room and both of you watch it walk till it halts right at your feet wagging its tail, tongue hanging out of its mouth. Both of you look at each other, and then a familiar voice turns up, “We’re here love birds.” Sakusa rolls his eyes before turning around and grabbing your bathrobe to wrap himself up probably because now his senses are back enough to let him know how chill the temperature of the room is. You put your palms over your cheeks, it has become warm again, as you look at the pup.

Just when you crouched down to pat the pup, Atsumu, Hinata, and Bokuto followed into your shared bedroom.

“So, what’re you gonna name him?” Miya asks with a big grin plastering on his face.

“Kiyo!”

“Heyyyyy.” Naturally, Sakusa protests. Bokuto and Hinata share a look holding back their laughter.

“Well, I call you Omi when I need something from you, or when I’m angry with you and I call you Mr. sakusa when we—you struggle to put your thoughts out in words so Atsumu interjects.

“ —fuck.” He is still grinning. What’s he so happy about?

“Yeah. that.” you point at him while keeping your eyes still on Kiyoomi. “So, I don’t see a problem calling him Kiyo.”

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ceesimz · 3 months

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I'm a Star, How Could I Not Shine?

This is just a lil soft blurb I got the idea to write tonight, I still have my other story in the works and I'm loving creating it :)

Life was hardly fair, that much you knew. But it seemed like the last few months had been especially harsh on your girlfriend. And it was a hard watch, almost agonising to see her come home a shell of her true self everyday.

Today, though, it reached its peak.

Work was being a lot kinder to you; you typically had a lighter load than Alexia but the past few weeks had kind of been a breeze, you were promoted to a new branch and it was a dream to be there. So, as you watched on from the sidelines as the media tore Alexia apart, inventing new reasons to needlessly hate on her, you were doing your best to make life at home a safe haven for her.

Today was Friday, and your plan was to come home from work and get all the chores out of the way, before ordering food in so that there was as little as possible for Alexia to have to worry about. Maybe you'd run a bath for her, give her a massage, or let her have some alone time before falling asleep with your chest to her back as you ran a hand softly through her hair.

What you weren't expecting, however, was to find a familiar figure in a black tracksuit curled up on the sofa, soundly sleeping.

You froze in the doorway, unsure what to do next. The first thing you thought was just how much the sight concerned you. Alexia wasn't meant to be home for a number of hours yet, her day was filled with meetings after she'd had training in the morning. Tie that in with the fact that she was adamant in never taking naps, ever, as well as how she always followed her schedule to the second, and your body was wracked with worry from head to toe.

Long story short, this only alluded to unimaginable things consuming her right now. You didn't even want to think about it. If it hurt you this much, and you weren't even the one experiencing all she was, then god only knows how she's feeling. Hopefully you can coax it out of her.

Instead of disturbing her right now, you backed out of the room and headed towards the kitchen. Once in there, you off-loaded your bag and your jacket onto the dining table, before opening your phone and putting in the order for dinner. Then you took a moment to compose yourself, to come up with a way to approach the delicate situation currently festering in the lounge of the apartment.

Alexia could wake up and be in one of either two moods: she doesn't really want company as she needs time to process what's pacing through her mind, or, and you're not sure if you preferred this one or not, she'd be in such an utterly wrecked state of mind that she would just melt into your arms and unload weeks, if not months, worth of bottled up emotions. You knew the latter would happen at some point, but you definitely didn't think it would come about so soon.

Really, this wasn't how you expected the night to go, you just assumed that Alexia would complete her work day before coming home, speaking very few words for the rest of the evening. It wasn't out of displeasure, it was how she processed things. Until the pressure built up inside her and exploded, she would keep pretty schtum about how things were going for her, and no matter how much you tried to shake her out of these habits, it was just something about her you had to deal with.

But now, with somewhat of an idea built up in your head, you slip your shoes off and put them on the rack by the front door, and walk back towards your sleeping girlfriend. As you get closer to her, you spot the scowl to her brow and slight frown on her lips - even as she sleeps, she still can't catch a break. She looks perturbed and uncomfortable, like there's things she can't quite shake off, and it breaks your heart.

With a gentle hand on her shoulder as she sleeps on her side with her face slightly covered by her hood, you gently nudge her.

"Hey, Ale, wake up. It's me, wake up." You whisper, leaning down to place a kiss on her temple. At the affectionate touch, she jolts awake, breathing a little heavy. "Hey, it's only me."

"Oh." She muttered, rubbing her eyes and sighing. "Por qué estás aquí?"

"I just got home from work, it's half four." Wrong thing to say.

She sits up in shock, looking at you agasp, her stomach churning with dread. She never missed meetings, she never missed any kind of work, period.

"Mierda. Lo siento, tengo que irme, ahora." Alexia jumps up and rushes to grab her keys from the kitchen, but you grab her hand and stop her. "No, amor, I-"

"Ale, take a breath. Slow down." You say, standing up and taking her other hand. Her eyes are everywhere but you, her body language is tense and radiates anxiety. "Look at me. Hey, mírame, Ale."

"Amor, you do not understand, I am missing a meeting ri-"

"No, you are here with me, and you need to take a minute. Just a minute, if anything. Please." You plead, dropping her hands to cup her face and get her to look at you. "Sit down with me, relax for a moment. I won't hear otherwise."

A reluctant nod later, she sits down with you on the couch, though she perches on the edge like she could take off any second. You don't doubt that she won't.

"Sorry." She states a quiet moment after, her hands coming to cover her face as she sighs heavily yet again.

"For what, Ale?" You ask, shuffling closer to her side and draping an arm across her shoulders. She shrugs, making you frown, so with your free hand you delicately turn her head to face you. "Take the day off. Anyone can see you need it."

Her nod isn't so hesitant this time, and that's terrifying in itself. The ease in which she agreed to skiving the rest of her schedule is so unnerving that you're not entirely sure where to go from here. You were expecting more of a fight, expecting her to be hard work for the night, but here she was just giving up in front of you. Near enough relinquishing her role as if it wasn't such a mental battle for her.

At her agreement, you tug her into you and she follows easily, resting her forehead against your collarbone and breathing out shakily.

"Let me look after you tonight, Ale. You don't have to apologise, not for anything." You whisper, scattering light, caring kisses across her cheek.

You pull down the hood of her jumper and, finally, see the full effect of what the month's brazen nature has done to her. The bags under her eyes are more prominent than ever, there's a permanent frown line etched onto her forehead, and she's a worryingly grey colour. Her face gives off a perturbed look, and to be honest you didn't think it was possible to be able to visibly see the aftermath of a mentally degrading few weeks.

Right now, it seems like sleep is the best option for her. And fortunately for you, and for Alexia, the restaurant you ordered from won't deliver your dinner for another forty or so minutes. It's a small miracle you'll happily take at this time, and if Alexia was in the right mind she'd probably laugh, because the wait time normally drives you crazy. You've never been more grateful for it though.

"Why don't you sleep some more? I got us some food, it won't be here for a while yet and I really think you need the rest." You suggest, tucking a few wisps of hair behind her ear.

"You... you will stay here?" She questions in such a childlike manner that it splits your heart in two.

"Yes, I'll be right here, Ale, I promise. I'm not going anywhere, ever." You tell her, and that's when she meets your eye. The look she gives is devastating, it's filled with all sorts that would take you the rest of the night to unpack. And, quite frankly, Alexia isn't ready for that.

You urge her to lay down just like she was earlier, except this time you take the place by her head and let her rest it on your lap. It's now that you're carding your fingers through her hair, not in your bed. It's now that Alexia finally breaks, as sniffles sound through the room sporadically.

"Tan cansada." She uttered, almost unintelligibly, as she covers her eyes with her hand and buries her face in your stomach.

"It's okay. You can relax now. It's just us here, and you're safe. You're gonna be okay." You reasurre her, and you mean it with every ounce of your being. How could you not, when the light of your life has been dimmed by clouds of disdain from people who aren't even aware of the joy she brings you?

Alexia may come across as a force to be reckoned with, but after all, she's just your Ale, the one that cries at animal shelter adverts on TV and smiles like a fool at the little things like when you bring home her favourite snack as a surprise one day. She's a sensitive soul, but that's what you love about her. Everything she does, she does it with her whole heart, and you'd sooner be six feet under than to let your love for her go untold.

"I love you, Ale, and I'm really proud of everything you do. Everything."

"Even when I am not strong enough to go to one meeting?" She mumbles insecurely, stealing a glance up at you with one eye.

"Especially then. You are strongest in your weakest moments, when you're afraid to ask for help but you do it anyway. So, I'm always proud of you, and I always will be. I swear by that."

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas one shot #alexia putellas imagine #woso imagine #woso one shot

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nuhuhwinniethepooh · 5 months

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For Better or For Worse

Tags : Dark content, Baby trapping, Fluff, Angst, Delving into Gojo's childhood, Yan!tendency, Gojo x Reader, Captivity, Lovesick Gojo

A/N : Couldn't hold back my laughter while writing this (P.S. it was the evil kind)

WC : 3k

____________________________________________________

Satoru is nothing like his father.

Why? Well to start it off with, Satoru's love story isn't quite as renowned as his parents love story. The head of the Gojo clan falling in love with a woman from it's smaller branch, a forbidden love story made possible. Sounds romantic, doesn't it? It's not. Behind the rose-tinted background and the dreamy sighs of onlookers, lies the dark obsession of it all.

Satoru knows that his mother was in love with someone else, Satoru knows that his father didn't care, didn't bother himself with the fact that she was already engaged to another man, already promised to the love of her life. What he did bother with was the dissolution of her engagement, forcing himself on her to bind her freedom, her branch and herself to him. No one cared, her family didn't to say the least, everyone was so delighted to have formed a bond with the main branch of the Gojo clan, to the head of the branch that all regards for her flew out the window.

With the birth of Gojo Satoru soon after, her fate was sealed. What marriage couldn't do, a child did. Her dreams of escaping all but gone, afterall no mother could ever leave her child in the very place that plagued her nightmares and selfishly run off. Besides, running off with Satoru would make her a target of all the 3 great clans- some only interested in snuffing out the heir and holder of the Gojo clan's innate technique whereas running off without him would eat her inside out.

Forget the fact that she was a mother and bearer of Gojo Satoru himself, her husband would've never let her run off. The ring on her finger was but a leash to tie her down and Satoru was but another means for it, lucky him. Lady luck only seemed to favor the most twisted of minds. It started out small, really. So small that it was barely noticeable and by the time anyone realized, it was already too late.

Forcefully cutting off all contacts with her family was as easy as snapping a branch in half, as easy as easy comes by. Then came the isolation, isolating her from the general public, isolating her from the people of the main house until she was fully restricted to the northernmost corner of the house with only two servants besides her, a mockery of the freedom she craved. She was offered everything, given everything she'd ever want but what use is it if it's not what she needs?

Her only connection to the outside world? A husband she loathed and her sweet, sweet son. Her little boy that looked nothing like his father- a small mercy in disguise. Her beautiful boy who she was banned from seeing if she misbehaved ever so slightly, her adorable baby boy being the only thing that kept her sanity in check, the only thing that stopped her from throwing a middle finger up to her husband's face and removing herself from the land of the living. Her baby boy whom she loves so much that she grits her teeth and steels her nerves to please her despised captor of a husband, to murmur sweet nothings in his ear and coddle him like he wants, in hopes for seeing her baby the next day and the next day she does, her beautiful son excitedly running towards her on the gravel path delighted her, made her day just by looking at him, bending to pick him up and press kisses all over his pale tiny face.

Satoru might've been young but he wasn't naive, far from it, he notices the way his mother holds him tighter in the presence of his father. He notices the way her lips form into a tight smile when his father presses a kiss on her cheeks before excusing himself, he notices the way she relaxes when his father is out of sight, pulling Satoru closer as she coos sweet words at him. Softly brushing his hair back and giggling at his words with a softness he can't quite put his finger on, he wishes he could play her laughter on repeat, Satoru's favorite past time might be walking hand-in-hand with his mother in the empty northern courtyard, talking about everything and anything that comes to his mind as she listens, she listens to him talk like the words pouring out of his mouth was the very secrets of the universe instead of his boring everyday life. Satoru likes it, he likes being listened to, he likes being normal, he likes being treated as a child and above all, he likes his mother for doing so.

The world may have shifted from Satoru's birth alone but for her, all Satoru ever was and ever will be was her child. Her baby boy, her little treasure and her reason to live.

One could only guess how devastated Satoru must've been when he finds out his mother collapsed during one of the so-called ban imposed on her because of her misbehavior or so the servants says with hushed voices. He glares at them disapprovingly, heads bowed down and lips pursed into a thin line, murmurs of apology pours out swiftly before they excuse themselves and exit just as quickly.

He clenches his tiny fists, silently praying to every God he knows as he makes his way quietly towards his mother's room. Taking in a deep breathe and walking in, only to see her sitting up on her futon with his father besides her, holding onto her hand as if for dear life as she looks out to the garden with furrowed brows- ignoring father, Satoru notes. Neither of them aware of his presence yet.

"Mam- Mother?" Her head snaps towards Satoru, face softening immediately as she holds her arms out before pausing, throwing a quick glance at the hand held by her husband. A sign to let go. He doesn't relent, squeezing it just a little tighter. She frowns again, rolling her eyes slightly. Placing her attention towards Satoru again, she holds her free arm out for him "Satoru, come here" her voice is sweet, soft, loving, weak. Satoru is already moving, already making his way to her arm and burying his face in the crook of her neck like he always does, breathing in her comforting scent- now mixed with the horrible scent of herbs, of sickness and of death, he scrunches his nose, pulling away to look up at his mother.

She's looking down at him, wrapping her yukata-draped arm around him with a small smile, pressing a light kiss on his forehead "My baby" she whispers, breathing in weakly. "Mama" he sniffles ever so softly, hands curling over her clothes as he buries his head against her chest. She chuckles lightly, weakly, the sound was so comforting. A complete juxtaposition to her condition.

"I need you to be strong, the strongest in fact. You can do that for me, can't you?" She whispers, pulling him closer to her. He nods. She smiles, patting his back. "Mama loves you, you know that right?" She hums softly, leaning her cheek ontop of his head. He nods again "I love you too, mama"

"I love you more, Satoru. So do me a favor, okay? You can do mama a favor right?"

Satoru tilts his head up, expecting to see a smile like always. He's disappointed, there's a serious look on her face. She always smiled at him, always as in ever since he could remember, saving the frowns and looks of distaste for his father- Satoru nods, looking at her just as seriously as she was. She bends down and presses a quick kiss on his forehead, a chill quickly running down his spine- instinctively knowing that this'll be the last time she'll kiss him. Dead or Alive.

"Never turn into a monster like your father."

Silence. Silence broken down by his father's voice, yelling for the servants to drag away Satoru. His mother yells too, Satoru's not quite sure what as the servants make quick work with him, hurriedly dragging him away from the them. Turning his head back to catch a quick glimpse of his mother's figure looming over his father's seated one. It's funny how mother only seemed be her strongest during her weakest state- she huffs angrily, turning her head away in anger before catching sight of Satoru, hurriedly flashing a sad smile that quickly vanishes as the door slams shut and he's forced to take a turn. Her room completely and utterly out of view, along with his mother.

Satoru sees her again the next week but in an entirely different setting than he hoped it to be. Quietly making his way up to his mother's pale, lifeless figure, he looks at his father besides her. All life in his sunken eyes seemingly gone as he mindlessly stares at her, "Mother would've loved to see him this way" he thinks apathetically to himself, kneeling down and brushing her hair back like she always did his as he presses a gentle kiss on her forehead, like she always did his.

"I promise"

He sees his father glance at him momentarily, Satoru steels himself, waiting for him to say something berating maybe then he could berate back, yell and scream back at him but his father says nothing. He doesn't care, more like he can't care to say anything. "Pathetic" Satoru sneers internally, standing up and walking out, his mother listened to him like the very secrets of the universe poured out of his mouth so he'll do the same, what goes around comes around. Right?

Gojo Satoru was only 5 and nothing like his father.

Then he met Suguru. Strong and relentless with sass and bangs so profound he couldn't help but let hi- You, you're perfect. Watching you sit besides the new first-years, everything else fades away the minute his eyes makes contact with yours. Your words, your soft gentle voice echoing in the room as you introduce yourself hits him like a sledgehammer, it hits him like a semi-truck crashing full speed into him. Satoru's sure he'd survive the crash but surviving you? He doubts there'd be anything left of him by the end of it all.

His knees goes weak as he watches you hold your hand out to him with a pretty little smile, throwing on his usual smirk, he grabs it and oh- your touch, it burns. Your fingertips brands itself against his palm so deliciously warm that he can't help but squeeze just a little bit tighter, trying to hold on to you for a little while longer before you're pulling it away with a grin and you're speaking but he hardly hears you, so distracted with the lack of warmth, the lack of your hands in his.

"What?" He croaks out, ignoring the side-eye he's receiving from Suguru and Shoko besides him at his unusual demeanor. "It's nice to meet you" you repeat simply, eyes closed as you chuckle softly and oh God, Satoru feels his heart thumping against his chest so wildly that all he can do is hope that you can't hear it, Suguru or Shoko least of all lest he wants to make it the running joke for his entire life. Satoru says something but he doesn't know what, his mind and his mouth two separate entities as he watches you laugh again, he wishes he could record it and play it over and over again. By the time he's aware of what's happening, it's already night and the water is burning his skin, hurriedly switching off the shower overhead he stumbles back, palms pressing against the cool tiled wall, his skin tingling with the heat. It's an uncomfortable heat, one that he doesn't like at all, he'd much prefer the burn of your skin against his, molded perfectly against his-

"You're staring again" Shoko drawls out amusedly, nudging Satoru in the ribs as the pair watches you converse with your blond classmate, Nanami, he notes. Your laughter fills the empty distance and before you know it, there's a familiar arm weighing down your shoulder "Hi Gojo" you say without missing a beat, not bothering to look up at the albino draping himself all over you as you drone on about your latest mission to an indifferent Nanami.

"Sorry 'bout him, girlie" Shoko interrupts, grabbing Satoru by the collar and prying him off of you, he let's go with a pathetic whine. You brush it off with a smile, it's okay and I don't mind falling out your lips but it falls on deaf ears as she starts dragging him away. "Give the poor girl some space, Gojo. It hasn't even been 2 months and you're already clinging into her" Shoko berates, shaking her head and praying for Suguru to come back quickly; she doubts she has much patience left for the pouting man-child she's dragging.

Gojo was nothing like his father, what he was was a clingy fool, an annoying one too.

"Oh my- what happened?" You rush towards Shoko, eyeing her two classmates sitting quietly in the infirmary. She shakes her head and you know better to ask so you settle down, observing the two, Satoru looks fine...well fine except for the eerie glow in his eyes while Suguru looked like the complete opposite, his eyes was dark and dank, similar to light slowly being sucked out into a blackhole. You can't help but feel a cold dread settling low in your stomach, wrong. Everything is gonna go wrong. And wrong it went, muffled sobs wrecks your body as you crumple to the floor, hands helplessy clutching onto Nanami's blazer as he silently holds onto you and buries your face in his chest. Forcing you to look away from the scene in front of you but you don't relent, turning your head back just a little .

Catching sight of Haibara's lifeless corpse. All cold, pale and unmoving. He's gone, gone and never coming back, just like Suguru because only weeks after, you get the news that he's defected. Defected and on the run, hunted down by the very people he once knew and loved. Gojo, how was Gojo taking the news? The thought brushes past your mind, fading away just as quick as you struggle to pry the umpteenth cigarette from Shoko's fingers, her smoking habit was becoming worse and you took it upon yourself to see that she doesn't kill herself at this rate. Busying yourself to make sure that you don't kill yourself with the lack of closure.

"Satoru, how are you holdin' up?" You call out softly as you enter his room, watching the usually bright eyes of his all bloodshot and red does nothing but heighten your worry as you watch him lying down in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Settling down at the edge of the bed, you quietly grab his cold hand, offering him what little comfort you can give. "They need me to kill him" Oh. You say nothing, there's nothing to say. No words of comfort would ever work, not anymore. Squeezing his cold hand just a bit tighter, the room becomes a little more darker with the sun setting behind the windows before he starts speaking again. He's speaking and you're listening, listening to him vent about things you never knew, listening to him ramble on and on about things that didn't matter to others but it did, it did matter to him so he talked about it and you listened, humming and nodding late into the night. Completely missing the fact that his hand never warmed up.

Satoru's talkative by nature, it's an undeniable fact but even he outdid himself when he wakes up with a jolt, looking at the harsh sunlight forcing its way through the windows. With a groan he moves to raise his arms over his head but pauses, blinking back his surprise when he catches sight of your head resting besides his hand, your hands grabbing onto his as if for dear life. Shifting his position he finally sees your legs awkwardly sprawled on the floor, realizing only then that he talked throughout the night only to conk out halfway through, realizing only then that you never let go of his hand, not even once.

Finally, he finally lets his infinity down. The warmth of your hand immediately enveloping his, the tiny squeeze you give while still asleep and the soft sounds of your breathing, oh it makes his heart thump just a little bit faster and stomach flutter just a little bit harder. Gently brushing your hair back, he freezes when your eyes flutters open "Gojo?" You yawn, pulling your hand to rub at your eyes but when you fail to feel both your hands on your face, you realize that he's holding on, squeezing just enough to not hurt but to feel.

"Satoru"

"What?" You look at him confusedly. "Call me Satoru" he grins the same old smile. The smile that reaches upto his eyes and crinkles the area around it...but this time it's softer, softer and warmer. You can't help but smile back at the expectant look in his eyes, the squeeze of his warm hand urging you on, warm. His hand was warm.

"Satoru"

Spoiling you rotten was now the only goal in Satoru's life; the extravagant gifts, the 'just because' flowers, the more than unnecessary other things that he does which only earns him a low whistle from Shoko and a polite thank you from your side. You rejected it at first, of course you did. Hell, you rejected it until you lost count but one thing about Satoru is the fact that he's stubborn, so stubborn in fact that the more you rejected the gifts, the more he gave. One gift became two, two became three and so on. Finally giving in when he presents you with the key to a house you said you liked while flipping through a brochure, you refuse it firmly though.

Finally giving in and accepting every other gifts except for that, he just shrugs and pockets the key "feel free and ask if you ever need it, it's yours from now anyways" being the only thing he says before going back to his usual routine.

Satoru was nothing like his father, he was just a lovesick fool, a rich one at that.

You liked Satoru, adored him even but not in that way. He was your senior, your partner in crime and your bestfriend if you were being generous with the titles, that's all there was to it. You don't like anyone that wa- Your heart lingers on a certain blond man from the past but he's gone, gone and living his life away from the sorcery world. It's better off this way, you think, brushing off the thought quickly as you file your paperwork in silence. But fate is a funny thing because after everything was said and done, it all starts over again.

Starting with the emergence of Sukuna's vessel and ending with his return, igniting the embers you so difficultly tried to put out. You openly gawk at him when you see him for the first time in a long time, heart fluttering at the smile tugging his lips and your name rolling off his tongue so naturally that it feels like he never left at all.

"Nanami, you're back afterall"

Satoru's not sure of his own feelings these days, unsure on if he likes seeing you getting along with Nanami or not. On one hand he's happy watching his only remaining juniors get along but on the other, he just can't get rid of that ugly, twisted feeling that stabs him everywhere when he watches Nanami touch you for a little too long or watch the way your eyes light up when you make the stoic man smile. It just makes him want to snap something...or someone whichever is more convenient.

So he goes to Shoko and on a drunken stupor spills everything out, stupidly crying his heavy heart as he nurses his glass of beer. "Just confess already" is all Shoko says but he perks up, acting like he just heard the answer to all the unanswered secrets in the universe.

"I love you, will you marry me?" Satoru blurts out as he watches you reach the tori gates of the school compound, on your way to your next mission. You look at him with shock, mouth forming a silent what? Too stunned to speak or make a sound. "We could date first if you want" He smiles at you, all bravado and confidence acting as if like he didn't just profess his feelings to you. "No" is all you manage out, missing the way his smile twitches at the word.

"No?"

"No, I'm sorry Sator- Gojo. I don't....I don't see you that way" you sputter out, hands flailing wildly in front of you. Soul-crushing is an understatement, heart-wrenching, bone-breaking...nothing can describe what he, what Gojo, feels at the moment, it's all too much. "It's because of Nanami, isn't it?"

You freeze, heat creeping up your face when he calls you out. You look down in embarrassment and hurriedly cup your cheeks to hide your flushed face, wrong move. Maybe if you kept your eyes on him you'd have seen the way his jaw ticked, maybe you'd have seen him curling his hand into a fist but you didn't do that so you don't see it. Instead you bow, muttering an apology and excuses of being late for your mission before running off, missing the abnormal silence and the eerie chill in the air despite the harsh summer sun shining right overhead.

Every single person was wary of Gojo, sorcerers and elders alike, because ever since the day you'd gone missing, his mood has been no better than thunderous. With the emergence of Sukuna's vessel, the curses that needed to be exorcised had increased in number and strength. With the staggering disadvantage of numbers, you had been assigned back-to-back missions and one fine day, had gone missing along with the Grade-2 curse you'd been sent to exorcise. The efforts to at least find your body was futile at best, nothing was left behind, not even a minisicule trace. Finally deeming you dead after a month of searching with no hope of finding your body ever again, it only adds to someone's despair all over again, he should've never come back afterall.

Gojo sighs, shutting the door behind him and silently making his way to the bedroom, he wasn't mad at the fact that you'd gone missing, not at all. On the contrary, he had you right where he wanted you to be. Chained up on his bed for him only. Then why was he mad? He was only mad because even after all this time of convincing and explaining, you still did not understand why he's doing all this. He loves you and he needs you by his side, what was so hard to understand? "I missed you too" Gojo hums to himself when he hears the muffled rattling of chains behind the door, realizing that you heard him come back.

You weren't weak by any means, not at all. You could snap normal chains like twigs if you wanted to but the cursed chain graciously attached to your feet by Gojo was resilient, all efforts left futile. It also burns, it burns like a red-hot spoke, branding you his if you ever so much as try to walk out the bedroom door. The chain magically extended itself to all corners of the bedroom and the bathroom but anywhere else and you're lying on the floor with tears in your eyes as you drag yourself back to bed because of the searing burn around your ankle.

You rub your eyes dazedly, where the hell were you? The comforter beneath you, the curtained drapes and even the smell was unfamiliar. Your last memory was being flung to the wall by the semi-special grade curse that you thought was a Grade-2 curse, a deadly mistake by the administration team. You needed to alert Ijichi for back up otherwise you're dead, a blur of white hair flashes past you. Gojo? Why was Gojo her- "Finally awake?" You blink, turning around to see Gojo leaning back on a chair besides the bed with a grin. "Gojo, where am I?" You tentatively ask, eyeing your bandaged arms.

"Our house. You said you liked it last time didn't you? " he answers simply, holding his arm out matter-of-factly. You narrow your eyes at the platinum band on his left ring finger, only realizing then that you had a similar one of your own in your hand. You move to get up but something cool tugs at you ankle, the sound of chain rattling only increasing your heart beat as you throw the blanket off of you. Cold sweat running through you at the thought of it "Gojo, what is this?"

"Oh don't mind it, it's just a precaution" he stands up, pushing the chair aside as he gently tugs at the chain with a satisfied look. "This isn't funny" you tug the chain loose from his finger, biting back the bile rising up your throat when he quietly grabs hold of your ankle. "It's not meant to be funny" he grins, pulling you towards him by your ankle."Why?" You breathe out every so softly, fear and betrayal etched on your face. Oh betrayal, sweet sweet betrayal, he really does love that look on your face.

Everything he says is a buzz, you can't hear him, you're panicking. Nanami, what about Nanami? Oh God, what's gonna happen to him without you there? "Oh don't look like that, I'm not gonna hurt you" he coos, cupping your cheeks, completely misunderstanding your panic. You grab hold of his cold hands, silent tears streaming down your face "Let me go, please Gojo. I swear I won't tell anyone, Please" you plead, lips quivering and shuddering as sobs wrecks your body. "I'm afraid I can't do that" he tuts with mock pity, one hand gently caressing your body as it slides down to your ankle.

"This chain..." he tugs it. Hard.

"Keeps you safe. Keeps you with me. KEEPS YOU MINE" Maybe if he didn't say all that with a smile on his face, you wouldn't have hated him as much as you did right now. But he did and the burning pit of hate burns in your heart, you should've never met him.

"Also call me Satoru, we're gonna be here for a very long time"

It all starts over again.

Satoru is nothing like his father.

Where his father's love story extended for so long, his was cut short. Cut short by fate and your death- or thats what people think at least. They don't know that you're well alive and breathing, chained to the bed by the supposedly pitiful star crossed lover of a man.

It's ironic really, when his mother was chained down to his father by just a ring on her finger, he had hated it but here he was, years later. Literally and figuratively chaining you down to him with a physical chain, maybe the reason why Lady Luck seemed to favor the most twisted of mind was because she had a twisted sense of humor too. It's the only explanation.

But what about his mother's words? He became the strongest, that's one wish fulfilled. Never turn into a monster like his father?.... That's two wishes fulfilled, For Better or For worse, he's gonna keep true to his promise till the end.

Satoru is nothing like his father, he was so much worse.

__________________________________________________

Writing block hit me hard. Currently working on pt.3 of Prod!Gojo Satoru again cuz I deleted it by mistake 🥲

Masterlist

#nuhuhwinniepooh #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #gojo x reader #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #yandere gojo x you #yandere gojo x reader #jjk gojo x reader #yandere jjk x reader #yandere gojo #gojo x you #lovesick au

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peachesofteal · 1 year

Text

Mermaids

Simon Riley masterlist

Simon Riley/mermaid!reader 8.2k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ Minors DNI. Dark themes. Magical beings eating human hearts. Magic. Blood, Violence. Explicit sex. Blood kink. Breeding kink. Creampie. Dubious consent. Possessive Simon Riley. "And with your mermaid hair and your teeth so sharp, you crawled from the sea to break that sailor's heart" - F+TM

It begins early this year.

Earlier than usual, when your hunting ground in the mortal world was just starting to turn green, shaking its frosted and frozen branches free to make room for bright blooms and emerald leaves. Just as the steps of Brighton Pier changed from ice slick ledges to waterlogged, weeping wooden planks, and human clothing shifted from long coverings that protected their fragile membranes from the bitter wind to soft and flowing fabrics that allowed their bodies to breathe.

This time of the year the mortal world was alive. Full of rebirth and growth, strong and vibrant.

Vibrant, like the song that began early this year, the frequency echoing deep below the water’s surface to where you waited for its pull. The siren song of a true treasure, far beyond any other, the melody of your chosen, the ebb and flow of the rhythm that is not unlike the sea. The siren song of a mortal’s heart, the cacophony able to reach you and your sisters far below the swell and crash of the ocean, far beyond where the light ceases, the melody possessing the ability to pull you to the surface once a year.

Once a year, to hunt.

One a year, to dance and drink and fall in love, if only for a night.

Once a year, to sacrifice a human heart.

Your eldest sister holds you tight to her body in an embrace as the sun rises. Elegant fingers fuss with your hair, smoothing and tugging and pulling, a vain attempt at taming something wilder than her own heart. Her face is grim, a black void that reflects no joy or excitement, just dread. It is a mirror of yourself. It is a pain that you know too well.

“What bothers you?”

You are the last two left on the beach. The others have all gone, eager to stretch their legs and seek their own songs, the trill of the blood bubbling up in their veins, their bodies pulled like magnets to the source. One heart, one song, one human male for each sister, poor mortals who have no idea what awaits them today, their ignorance bliss on the last night of their lives. Your sisters, as well as you, all live for this night. The joy of the love, the thrill of the hunt, the taste of the ichor that sustains you. The anticipation of this night fills your dreams with swirls of violent songbird chords and sweet melodies of affection. It is all you talk about for cycles, leading up to the day when you leave the water at sunrise and your tail shifts and shatters to reveal two very human looking legs.

“I am weary.” She tells you plainly, an announcement that does not come as a surprise. You have watched how she fades. Watched her linger in the darkness of the caves, watched her float lifelessly on slow currents, gaze hollow, vigor lost. “My song is faint.” She pushes further, holding your hand tightly as she releases you from her embrace. “I think I may not take a heart this year.” But we must. Must we? It was a question unanswered, but one that plagued you both. How else could you live, if not for these sacrifices?

“You would choose to die.” You surmise and she gives you a curt nod, as if it is obvious. As if her admission does not rattle you down to your very bones. Perhaps you too, one day, would make this choice. Would choose not to hunt. Choose not to love and lose. The notion pains you, fills you with sorrow as it has for many, many years. This was not an unknown feeling, even though you still experienced the joy, the bliss of your hunting, of the harvesting, you still felt the pang of loss every time, stronger and stronger as the years ticked by.

“It aches now, knowing I will fall in love this night, just for it to end as the sun rises.” The sea crashes onto the beach behind the two of you, and her lips part with a smile before she leans in to graze a kiss along your cheek. “Happy hunting, my sister.”

The song encourages you onward, leading you through a maze of streets and buildings while the sun rises and lingers in the sky. You comb the city for your male, following the electric hum of the song through alleys and neighborhoods, stopping to enjoy the day, your one day on land, as often as you can. You relish in the things that are rare for you, the taste of coffee and human food, the smell of flowers in the park, the feel of grass on the bare pads of your feet. The dress you’ve chosen flutters in the breeze, allowing the cool air to caress your skin softly, and the sun beams down on your exposed limbs, warming you under its light as you indulge in mortal world. It is nice, you decide while you bask in its rays, to feel the sun as humans do. Such spoiled creatures, being so close to something that gives so much life.

That same sun begins to sink lower behind the skyline and you’re still mindlessly gazing at small insects and diving birds when your heart trills, the force of the song slamming between your ribs, a smattering of warning bells going off within you. He’s close, your blood croons, so, so close. The incessant rattle, the insistent pull is enough to bring you to your feet and anxiously smooth the wrinkles of your clothing, eyes darting wildly around while you hunt for the source, feet flying beneath you. So close, so close.

You come to a stop in front of a pub where a black door is propped open, music and revelry echoing from inside. Here. He’s here. The supersonic vibrato that hums in your own blood draws you into the dimly lit bar, and you hear the song in his veins grow even stronger when you step through across the threshold. He is not hard to find, this close, and your magic strings out before you, weaving and seeking past the bodies that dance closely on the floor, each as desperate for one another as you have grown for your mortal and his song.

He stands in the back, half covered by shadow, the dark pitch of the room matching his clothes and the mask he wears over most of his face. Everything about him is bigger than the males that have called to you in the past, his height, his arms, the width of his shoulders, even the feeling of him in this place. Everywhere you venture, every spot you position yourself in, you feel his eyes on you. He is unusual, and watches, from his vantage point, his companions, other humans, the bartender.

You perch atop a barstool on the opposite side of the room to study him. His eyes carry a ferocity, a heaviness of emotion that stirs the blood running through your own veins until it is pounding in your ears. The severity of him nearly intimidates you, the level of his awareness, the pools of his amber rich brown eyes occasionally flicking over to where your fingers wrap around a glass of beer, the heat of his gaze searing away at your skin underneath the dress. The mask confuses but does not caution you, and your own heart now beats in time with his due to your proximity. Handsome. You muse to yourself, caught up in tracing the outline of his cheekbones. Beautiful, in a dark way.

There is something about him. Something ruinous, something different. Something you cannot name.

It is of no consequence. You are the huntress. You will have your prize, your immortality, the taste of his heart on your tongue. His death becomes your life. His love, his heart, becomes yours, for eternity.

But how nice, might it be, to keep this one? It is an impossible thought, a dreamless idea, but one that still crosses your mind. The fantasy of falling in love for eternity, of having more than one night, more than the blood and violence that follows, more than the loss that would sustain you. If it were to be one, you know you’d choose this one. Your thoughts stray to your sister for a moment, imagining her alone beneath the surface, mourning the centuries of life she has lived, the centuries of love she has lost. Did she know this feeling? This hopelessness, this despair. Your lips tug downward as you consider her words. It aches. It aches, knowing I will fall in love this night, only for it to end as the sun rises. Gloom washes through you, your own yearning itching inside your soul, your desperation for your human itching at your skin. It aches. It aches, it ach-

“Hello.” Someone says from behind you, a deep, distinct voice, and you snap upwards, straightening your posture to turn into the body that crowds you. You jerk backwards on the stool when you realize how close he is, the action unsettling you from your seat, and you slip forward, nearly falling free from your wooden perch. Balance on land is difficult, and yours is perpetually off, a skill you've never mastered. A massive hand wraps around your elbow to right you, gently steadying you, and your jaw goes slack when you finally look up.

It's him.

“Hi.” You smile, trying to recover from your less than graceful impression. Your heart thunders in your chest, and the melody inside him screams for you.

“I’m Ghost.” He motions to your mostly empty beer and raises his completely barren one in return. “Buy you another?”

The indulgent smile that scrawls across your face is practically involuntary as you give your answer.

“Sure.”

His name isn’t Ghost, but he keeps his true name close and won’t give it to you. You give him a nickname, one you usually use on land, and he doesn’t bat an eye, even when you tell him it’s a pet name and not your real one with a wink. The name Ghost doesn’t strike you as odd, after learning what he does, why he keeps it tucked away, and you marvel at him while he tells gives you bits and piece of himself, occasionally peeling his mask up to drink. He’s a solider, a Lieutenant in a special task force, some of which he happens to be out with tonight. He likes bourbon, specifically from a certain region in America, and he smells like the forest. You lean closer, completely unable to stop yourself, inhaling as deeply as you can, breathing in the mossy, earthy, green scent that hovers in the air around him. It was heady, and endless, and wrapped you in a dizzying cocoon of memories that you couldn’t place, but clearly envisioned. Forests, teeming with life and glowing chartreuse from top to bottom, oceans with aquamarine waters, shallow pools for you to bathe in under the sun, the water crisp and cold, your skin eagerly soaking it up its potent brine. Sapphire skies, the beaches stretching on and on, their seas fathomless, their bounties endless. You push closer, nosing as near as you can to his skin and take a lungful of the air. Strange. You knew humans wore things to mask or change their scents, but had never encountered one so… affecting.

“Alright, love?” He brushes the lightest contact of his fingers against yours, and you straighten, eyes ducking down in embarrassment.

“Yes, sorry. I- I was… distracted.”

Unusual indeed.

One drink turns to many, and you carefully note how Ghost’s posture becomes more relaxed, shoulders less tense as the two of you indulge. He continues to surveil the room, observing and cataloguing, and you find it dangerously appealing, how in tune he is to his surroundings. How vigilant. Your hand lays gently on his thigh when you can no longer hold off the desire for physical touch, and he inclines his head to speak above your ear, the warmth of his cheek behind the fabric pressed casually to your head.

“D’ya want to go somewhere else?” Yes. You nod, and he motions to his group before excusing himself, his large body cutting a path through the packed room like he’s parting the sea.

You note the couplings around the bar as Ghost approaches his companions, leaning down to speak to one who is seated, legs spread wide on a faux velvet chair. He has a mohawk, and cerulean blue eyes that trace you from head to toe after Ghost begins to walk back towards where you're seated. You break the eye contact hastily, observing the others, pity pulling on your heart strings over a distraught female who sits in a corner, watching another with longing. The state of her broken heart is written all over face, her body rife with grief. The object of her affection, another stunningly beautiful female, dances with a different mortal, her artfully woven hair spiraling from her shoulders in tune to the way she moves her body. They have it so hard, you think. The song does all the work for us. You never have to woo your mortals, just provide them with the opportunity to find you. The song pushes them to seek you out, drives them to near madness unless they are in your company. They don’t always love you back, as you love them, certainly. But you never have to vie for their attention, never have to posture for their affection.

A large hand takes yours, warm and beating with the pulse of his heart, the rhythm of the song.

“Ready?” You open your mouth to say yes but nothing comes out, and the feeling of dread, the ache swamps you for a passing second. I think I may not take a heart this year. All you can do is nod.

As he leads you through the crowd, you cannot help but reach forward with your free hand and clasp onto the dancing woman. She pauses, eyes lighting wantonly when she sees you, but you push a sprinkle of magic through her, sparking desire in the base of her consciousness for the mournful dove in the chair.

You don’t look back at either of them as you leave, and silently pray to no one that they find happiness in love, that they relish it and keep one another, if only for you.

You bring him to the beach, as is your custom. It was where you felt safest, closest to the ocean, it’s where your power felt most pure should you need it, should something go wrong. You shiver at the thought, shoving down the memories that threaten your balance, and you clutch Ghost’s hand.

“Come down here often?” He inquires and you shrug, a response you know mortals are fond of.

“I like it here.” You offer, and he hums in acknowledgement. You tug him towards the overhang of the pier, where the shadows will shield you, where no one dares to venture. The only light comes from the moon, it’s silver glow glittering dimly through worn wooden pier slats, and you watch it catch his eye, his pupil expanding and contracting as you step closer and closer. “I want to kiss you.” you implore. “Will you remove your mask?” The song. You’re depending on the song to help you with this, depending on his desire, the power of the melody in his veins to urge him to comply with your request, and when he tilts his head like he’s considering you, you hold your breath.

It happens quickly. He removes the mask in a fluid motion, and then his lips are upon yours, hot and seeking, tongue exploring your mouth while yours opens for him, your body clenching with dizzying desire at the feel of his touch against your skin.

“I knew it.” You gasp when you pull away and trace the fine point of a fingernail down his jaw. “I knew you were breathtaking under there.” He chuckles.

“Happy you think so.”

Your mouths melt together as he holds you around the waist, your bodies getting closer and closer until you can feel the hardness of his cock in his jeans, feel the scorching heat of him through his clothes. You are desperate for this mortal, your desire to feel him moving inside of you nearly as strong as the lust you feel to taste his heart. You sink to the sand together, a dance of limbs and movements that have you panting astride him when he settles, propped up on his elbows.

“Simon.” He says mid breath. “That’s my name. Want ya to have it.” Simon.

“Simon.” You whisper it, and he nods before pulling you back to him, two large palms cradling your face like you’re a delicate creature. It makes you feel special, makes you feel cherished, like you’re something gentle to be treasured, and not a monster out for his life. You kiss him tenderly, one more time, as softly as you can manage, your heart trembling inside your chest, before your teeth bite into his lip, the ferocious intensity of the act returned by him, his mouth meeting yours full force. You bite again, and this time his flesh gives way, bright, mineral rich blood bubbling from the tiny cut and you eagerly lap at it, the ichor coating your tongue and exploding across your senses. He laughs, the echo of it rumbling deep in his chest, and you place your hand against his heart greedily, the vigor of its beating nearly making your eyes roll back into your head. The length of his cock throbs between your legs, where only the fabric of his jeans separates you, and you rut against him helplessly. Sparks ignite between you, your body shuddering when his hands hook into your hip, strong grip guiding your movements against him. Your magic swells inside of you, and your head spins.

Take him, take him. Take his heart, take his song. Have him, his love, his heart, for eternity, forever.

You push him onto his back, dress rucked up around your hips, fabric pooling around the two of you.

“I want you.” you tell him, fingers fussing with his clothes, encouraging him to strip his shirt free and then unbutton his jeans. It’s messy, uncoordinated, and sloppy but you can’t find a care. You’re too filled with want, overflowing with desire for your mortal, your desperation mounting as he stills you, tracing a finger over your ribs and then down your pubic bone to where your slick, silken folds wait to be touched.

“Simon.” you whisper his name again, the word close to begging, and he shushes you, swirling a finger down where you’re leaking, circling the swollen bud of your clit with agonizing strokes that fill your senses with electricity.

“Shhh. I know what you need.” He soothes, and deftly pushes a finger inside of you, stroking along your walls. You shiver, face dropping into the crook his neck, and he turns his head so that the soft puff of his breath wafts over your skin as you whimper. “Does that feel good?” He asks, pressing another inside, his thumb flicking over your clit in lackadaisical patterns. You moan, body welcoming his touch, and you nip at the skin of his shoulder, eager to tear it apart, to taste his blood again. His other hand pushes at the back of your head, until your teeth are flush with his skin. “Go on.” He urges, and your eyes slip closed with bliss while you break the thin membrane, blood pooling to the surface as he lets out a small grunt. Your tongue swirls in it, painting his skin ruby, and you drag your lips downward, over where his heart pounds wildly in his chest. For you. It pounds for you. It sings for you.

“I need you inside me.” He pulls at the straps of the dress, divesting you of the top, exposing your breasts to the cool air and silver light of the moon. His thumb rolls one of your nipples and you feel for him, already free from his under garment, the things humans wear under their outside clothes, and you swallow when you feel the size in your fingers.

You sink down onto him with a hiss, body stretching for the intrusion, cunt spasming around the width and length as it fights to make room. He pets your hip soothingly, and you sit straight up, letting out a cry when you feel the true length of his cock inside you, the absolute fullness of it nearly seated in your belly. When you look back down, your eyes trace the smear of blood from his lips and shoulder, and your tongue darts out against your own skin, seeking the flavor of ichor that waits on the corner of your mouth.

Something glitters in his eyes, something shifting as if he finally recognizes the danger he’s in. Even here, with you astride him, split open his cock, hips stuttering in slow circles, wariness flexes across his face as if he knows, finally, that he is the prey and you the predator.

“It’s okay, do not be afraid.” You reassure him, stroking a fingernail over his breastbone, to where his heart flutters beneath your touch. He blinks, eyes blissfully blank, the firm grip of his hand on your hip relaxing before he says:

“Will you not tell me your name?” A long sigh slips between your teeth. Mortals. So hung up on familiarity. But how could you refuse a dying man his last request? Your lips kiss the shell of his ear as you give it to him, the point of your fingernail pressing into his delicate flesh, desperate to seek the strong muscle beneath, the song in his blood echoing through your own bones with supersonic vibration. The sounds and colors of the mortal realm all increase, too bright, too loud, everything shaking like the earth is suddenly trembling and then-

Something snaps inside of you. Magic, raw and powerful, a force unlike anything you’ve ever felt spills into you, your body being washed over with the rush of floodwaters, your heart and blood now singing for him, yearning for him, desperate to be consumed by him.

Yours. Yours. Yours.

The claim burns beneath your skin, your magic twisting away into something completely new, something more powerful as your mind grapples with the changing reality.

In the next moment, you’re spinning, tumbling through the air until you’re on your back, splayed beneath him, hands trapped at your sides. Your legs are folded underneath the width of his torso, your body opened for him just so, the head of his cock pressing against your cervix, stretching the slick walls of your cunt with each punishing thrust.

“I-“ the words are cut off sharply when he seals his mouth to yours, teeth gnashing and gnawing down from your lips to your jaw and then up to you ear.

“You,” He punctuates the word with a sharp thrust, and you gasp. “are mine, little huntress.” It is a vow, snarled through clenched teeth, and your own body betrays you by tightening around him, eager and willing to be claimed. The air is hot, humid and electric with magic, the burning effects of your error travelling through your every vein, every cell of skin. The utterance of your name, the act of your own foolishness strings heavily between you, while your body tenses underneath him.

“Simon.” You breathe and he only nods, holding your cheek in a gentle palm, stroking a loving touch across your face.

“Sweet little Nereid...” He names your kind with a growl, and your heart slams in your chest, his cock thrusting into your cunt wildly, desperately. “More beautiful than the sea herself.” The laugh is crooned, like the satisfying scratch of a needle against a record, and his fingers stroke your clit while he presses himself to you, your hips pinned beneath his weight, your body immobile. “Did you truly believe me to be a mortal?” He smiles darkly, lips curling with sinister satisfaction, and you feel the cold hand of fate reaching into your own chest cavity, rooting around in your soul until magic is searing across your skin, a bending and scraping feeling digging underneath your ribs, your own magic twisting and clawing until it burns away into something new, something changed, something imbued with him.

No. It’s not possible.

“You… you’re-“

“Yes.”

Simon cares little for the mortal realm. It’s pace and its noise and its scents are all cloying to him, obnoxious and foreign, the general rush of its inhabitants and their lack of care for their world offensive to him and his kind. They do not care for their realm, and do not take care of it ether, instead choosing to let it rot and fester beneath their feet, their drive and determination to outdo one another single handedly responsible for the destruction of most of their world. They call it something here, 'capitalism', like naming it will excuse it, while Simon just calls it murder, and greed.

Mortals and their extreme indifference do allow him certain things, however. Their love of violence and obsession with wealth put even the most well-off of his kind to shame at times. His kind loved things that shone, certainly. But mortals? They loved things that bled. It was this lust for power, this ravenous streak of greed that gave him the opportunity to position himself as he has.

As a hunter. A killer. A ghost.

Simon had been hunting for the thing he loved for a very, very long time.

And tonight, he was finally going to bring you home.

The first time Simon saw you; over a century ago, it was beneath Brighton Pier. You had a human male panting after you as you walked beneath the wooden overhang, your hand cupping his cheek softly, eyes full of tenderness and love. Simon, and the man, were both entranced by your beauty, the way your body moved under the night sky, how your skin seemed to glitter against the sand. Simon watched as you led him to where the moon couldn’t reach, beneath the shield of the slats, the dark of the evening hiding you from all prying, curious eyes, except for his.

He watched you take the male inside your body, watched you lavish your tongue across his neck and chest, watched your lips form sweet words of reassurance and honey while you tasted his blood. He watched the nails of your fingers gleam in the low light, watched them sharpen and then dig, scratching and clawing beneath the threads of the male’s skin, until you held an ichor rich organ in your palm, a complex system of vessels and ventricles, it’s sinew glowing red beneath your touch. He stood in awe as you devoured it, your feeding turning into a frenzy as you consumed it piece by piece, the male bleeding out and dying slowly, all while still buried inside your cunt.

After your feast, you dragged the male’s lifeless body down the sand to the water with you, where you pulled it beneath the waves, never to be seen again. Surprised, and intrigued, he stood at the water’s edge, watching the tide that was tinged red lap calmly at the shore. He knew humans had a taste for blood, but this was another desire onto itself. What were you?

The following year, Simon couldn’t help but return to the same area in hopes of spotting you again, the creature unknown to him, a mystery begging to be unraveled. You appeared at dawn on the same day, with a horde of others, who then dispersed into the city and surrounding areas, following the sound of a song he could not hear. He became a creature obsessed, tracking your every movement, watching your every hunt and sacrifice. He stood in the dark while you made love to the mortals whose lives you would take, watched you hunt with wild abandon, watched you enjoy the small, tiny things in your eternal life that others often overlook. He began to know you, began to learn what you liked and didn't, began to learn what made you smile.

You became the brightest spot in his own too long existence, the yearly reminder of love, of vitality, of life. He loved you, desperately, recklessly so. His dreams were filled with soft, sweet visions of you, bloody moments of passion and adoring, lingering kisses that he swore he could still feel when he woke.

It took time, too long of a time, before he discovered who, or what, you were. He spent a century trying to learn how to lure you to the surface. Simon tore apart libraries, bargained favors across dimensions, granted wishes and wove powerful spells just to trade for information on you and your sisters, the Nereids, the lasting remnant of a forgotten power, reclusive magic lurking inside the deepest depths, a realm inside a realm, never to be discovered unless you wished it so. And even then, the additional answers he sought were scarce.

Every year, he returned to the human realm to see you, tucking himself away in cloaks of magic and darkness so that he could creep as close as possible to you. Every year, he watched you hunt, watched you capture your prey effortlessly and consume their heart. He watched you shed a tear for them. Watched your drag their corpses down the beach to the sea, where you carried them into the water with you before disappearing all together.

Eventually, time began to change you. He watched you regard your lovers, your mortals with callousness, and cruelty. He watched you treat them with tenderness, and adoration, caring for them, making their ends sweet and soothing their fears. He watched you stand on the beach for hours at dawn and try to fight the urge to hunt. He burned to take you away from this world, to sever you from your ocean, bring you home to him, but your kind did not live in his realm. He was unsure how to sustain your life, and the search for answers was slow. Years went by, and the soft dreams that he had always welcomed turned to nightmares, fueled by the fear he’d lose you before he even had the chance to try to bring you home.

A decade ago, he watched you falter. Your body trembled as you took your sacrifice, your cries so hysterical he was certain you’d draw the entire block to where you hid in the shadow of someone’s gaff. His own body was rigid with tense, untethered magic that sought to lash out, and he was rife with worry that you’d give yourself away, you’d be caught by some mortal force and unable to return to the sea when the sun rose. The fear he felt was unreasonable, uncontainable. He'd level the city to protect you, to keep you safe, and he nearly did. He almost took you, that night. Was quite close, so close that he was crossing the street in front of vehicles and preparing to pull you into his realm when you composed yourself and completed your harvest, the glowing organ in your hands proof of your will to live, to love.

He rarely left the mortal realm after that. Only to seek his final answer and solidify his plan, his masquerade as the masked Ghost allowing him to exist in the realm indefinitely, giving him the availability to be close for when the time was right, for when you would be ready.

A year ago, you were the last to return to the water, your steps slow and clumsy, your eyes tired and weepy. You appeared satisfied, but as you looked back on the city from the shoreline, he saw the hint of desolation in your eyes, the shadow of dejection haunting your face.

It was more than enough, to spring him into action. More than enough, to find your promised mortal for next year and steal his song, bringing it into himself by a small piece of blood magic, something so simple and obvious Simon cursed himself for not realizing sooner.

This morning, as he observed you and your sister on the beach, he knew he had been right. He could see it in your face. The pain of sadness, of loss twisting your elegance into an ache, those feelings compounded by the admission of your eldest sibling. This could be your last hunt.

It was time to bring you home. Forever.

“That her then?” Johnny nods, indicating he’s looking the same direction as Simon, watching you walk down the curb, paper coffee cup clutched in your hands, face smiling at the sun.

“Yes.” Simon answers, shifting uncomfortably. The bloody song has been heating his flesh for weeks, boiling in his veins and driving him practically mad. Nymph magic. Its incessant hum has been battling his own power, jockeying for position as it worked to pull you to the surface. Combined with his own, he wasn’t surprised it possessed the ability to bring you up earlier than normal, encouraging you and your sisters through the depths and to the shore. If his blood was singing, then so was every other poor sod’s in this city.

You cross the street into the park, dress swaying around your hips, and he indulgently stares at the form of your body, the set of your shoulders, the texture of your hair. He closes his eyes to breathe, reaching into himself to get a handle on the battle of will going on in his blood, the warring magic factions pushing and pulling beneath his skin, begging to be let out, trying to lash out. Soon. He reassures himself. She will be with him soon.

He can smell you from here. You’re ripe. Overflowing, your scent is like a flickering ocean breeze, briny and cold but full of life, of promise. You’re ready, ready to be taken from this awful realm, ready to be bent underneath his body, ready to be crying on his cock as you come while he floods your womb with himself and his power, tying you to him for all eternity.

That is, if he can get you to relinquish your name.

It is a key piece of his plan, and the one that worries him the most.

He knows you do not give it freely; knows you keep it guarded. It’s like you’re already aware that he waits in the shadows for you, watching, keeping track of every step you take, every year, from sunup to the next, until you slink beneath the water where he cannot follow.

The pressure inside his body is nearly unbearable by the time you step into the pub. Dozens of heads turn towards you, mortals’ eyes roving all over your body like you’re a treat for them, like you’re something delicious they’ll have an opportunity to taste. Foolish, greedy mortals, too busy staring dreamily at you to recognize the predator that you are, or the predator he is, oblivious to the two hunters in the room with them right now. He wonders, if you'd bathe in their blood, given an opportunity. The image makes him smile.

Johnny clears his throat expectantly, and Simon nods, casting a glance over to where Gaz sits with a pretty female on his lap, her attentions focused solely on him, her eyes heavily lidded with lust. Johnny gives him a nod.

“Good luck.” He offers and Simon waves him off. He’s no need for luck. His blood sings your song.

“Ready?” He nearly loses control when he watches your face fill with despair for a moment after his question, his aching need to soothe and comfort you almost forcing his hands out to touch you. I'm here, little huntress. You are not alone anymore. He cannot tell you this, not yet. So instead, he applies pressure to your hand gently and waits. When you nod, he breathes just a tiny bit easier.

He cannot stay in this place any longer. The eyes, the mortals, their inane thirst for alcohol and violence starting to scratch underneath his skin. He needed you, needed your name, needed to take you home to his realm, and all this noise and smoke and foul-smelling liquor stood in his way. The feeling of your hand in his soothes him, calms the anxious explosion that’s building in his chest, but it’s not enough. Nothing will be enough, until he has what he wants.

On the way out, he does not miss your little spell. He is, and has been, the most powerful creature in this room. He has felt every ounce of magic used, by you, by Johnny, by Kyle, all night long. It makes his heart swell when he feels your effort to push the dancing female into the arms of her scorned lover, makes his heart soar when he realizes perhaps, you have not given up on love, on life. Perhaps, you just need something else, something other than the hunt, to live for.

He allows you to take your time beneath the Pier. He cannot rush you, cannot allow you the feeling of anything being amiss, being off. You are so close to the sea, so close to the edge of the water that if he spooks you, it will be too easy for you to slip away. Too easy for you to be lost beneath the surface, again, just as you have been for hundreds of years.

When your teeth tear into his flesh he nearly moans, almost loses control again, but tamps down the urge to spring forward and toss you into the sand beneath him. He needs your name, needs your name so bloody badly it has his head spinning, his entire being desperately urging him to act, to claim, to take you. Your cunt is searing hot around his cock, your body shivering in his arms as you rock your hips delicately, eyes watching him half addled, crazed with the lust for his blood, for his heart.

“Will you not tell me your name?” He thrusts slowly up into you, and pity flashes across your features as you bend forward to brush your mouth against your ear. He feels your lips part, hears the intake of your breath and then-

You’re his. The magic begins immediately, bonding you to him, searing you into his soul and vice versa, the song in his blood slipping away until all he feels is the combined force of your power and his, the melding of souls and magic that will guarantee your existence in his realm, by his side, guaranteeing your survival, your ability to thrive. He takes advantage of your confusion, of the chaos that rises in your heart and flips you on your back, spreading your thighs wide beneath him and plunging his cock as deep as he can. So close. So, so close, and then you will be truly his, for as long as you both shall live.

“I-“

“You,” he thrusts harder, desperate to claim you. “are mine, little huntress.” He hisses it, pushing the words forward with the brunt of his power, and you gasp before whispering his name.

“Sweet little Nereid…more beautiful than the sea herself.” He kisses your throat, stroking your clit at a torturous pace while your confused gaze tracks his every movement. “Did you truly believe me to be a mortal?” The magic pushes through your blood and bones, continuing to stitch and sear you to him, and he can’t help the feelings of possession that come over him.

His. His. His.

His magic cuts and gnaws at your own, ripping and shredding it to bits until it’s infected with him, the strength of your name, your free admission to him, turning you inside out, changing the very chemistry of your body. He watches with dark satisfactions as your face shifts, your lips parting with understanding, eyes widening with your knowledge of the truth.

“You… You’re-“ Clever little huntress.

“Yes.” He purrs, and punches his cock back up inside of you, pressing close to your cervix, your body wet and needy, just for him. You shudder and blink hazily, confusion flickering across your features while his magic roots around inside of you and binds you to him, cell by cell. He can still smell you, smell the cool salt air of the sea that comes from your skin, smell the ripeness of your body, your willingness spilling forward in the air, the scent of sweet honeysuckle and sea holly. Your thighs tighten around his hips, your body rocking swiftly in time with him while your brow furrows, like you’re not sure what you should be doing. He licks at the stain of his blood on your lips, his tongue pushing into your mouth, and you let out a sharp whine, small hands flexing against his chest.

“No.” you admonish, face stricken. “No. No, you t-tricked me.”

“I did.” He agrees, reaching between the two of you to rub your clit in a swift circle, your breath hitching. Your face twists into something sour, but your cunt clenches around him, and his lips curl into a crescent moon smirk. “Are you going to come on my cock, sweet one?”

“Unnf.” You moan nonsense, turning your face away from him but he does not stop, hips snapping against yours, his body working to bring yours closer and closer to its climax.

“I think you are.” He hisses and grips your jaw to turn your eyes back to him. They’re wet with tears, but he doesn’t see fear in them, doesn’t see the despair. Only flares of rage, and the heat of desire, the electricity of the magic that is now shared between the two of you. He smiles triumphantly. “I think,” he relaxes his pace, dragging his cock out of you painstakingly slowly, gaze never leaving your lovely face. “you’re going to come for me, and then I’m going to breed you, little huntress.” You tense around him, squeezing his cock, the words pulling a delicious, physical reaction from you that shakes his focus for a moment. His palm lays flat over your lower belly, low enough that his thumb can feel the hardness of your clit, can stroke around it’s hood while you gasp and convulse in his arms. You shake your head stubbornly, chest heaving for breath, and he slams himself back into you, your spine curling forward into his chest.

“Gods.” You cry out, fingers scrambling for something to hold onto, finding his shoulders and sinking deep, deep enough that he knows you're drawing blood. It oozes from the tiny wounds, tracing down his skin and when you pull away, your fingers have been darkened with it.

He watches with small wonder as you slip them into your mouth, face going slack with bliss, cunt spasming around him while he strokes deep. His skin prickles, mouth finding yours again, and you moan into him, uninhibited, full of abandon.

“I have watched you for over a century, my sweet Nereid. Watched you hunt, watched you love, watched you lose.” He slows to look down at you, caressing your face with a gentle touch. “I have watched the light fade from your eyes, watched despair take over your existence.” Your gaze widens, mouth dropping open in surprise, and then closing abruptly, eyes softening around the corners.

“Simon.” You murmur, pressing your finger to the weeping wound from your teeth.

“My huntress. You will never be alone again.” He noses your jaw, licking and sucking against your skin, cold brine exploding against his tongue. Your scent crests, peaking with the honey flower and salt, your body yearning beneath him, cunt milking his cock. “Come for me.” He encourages when he knows it’s time, when he sees the glossy want all over your face. It doesn’t take much urging, another stroke of your clit and you’re coming, body locking up around him, muscles straining as you cry out, face full of bliss and legs tense around his hips. You clamp down around him, holding him deep inside your body like a vice but he works you through it, thrusting slowly inside your scorching cunt, your walls desperately trying to keep him inside. “There you go.” He soothes, fucking you through the aftershocks, your face still twisted up. “That’s just what I needed.” The orgasm makes your more pliable, more soft and less angry, and he sees in your eyes what he knows to be true. You want this. Perhaps this is not what you would have chosen at first, perhaps the magic was too strong in your veins in the beginning, but your body knows what your mind works to accept. You are choosing this, choosing him, over the hunt. Over the sacrifice. Over the immortal life of loss.

So, so close.

He folds your legs towards your chest, opening you deeper and you mewl, lips parted in dazed, post orgasm glow. He can’t help but kiss you again and again, his painfully slow thrusts forcing irritated breaths to puff from your nose.

“Something you want?” He teases, and you nod, pressing your face into his shoulder and groaning into his skin.

“Simon. Please.” You voice breaks, and he feels your cunt pool around him, liquid heat forcing him to grit his teeth in an effort to stave off his own orgasm.

Ask me for it, little huntress.

“Please, what?” He mocks, thumb pressing down on your clit hard, causing you to keen. He doesn’t move, just stays steady inside of you, your cunt working pull him deeper.

“Please, please. I want-“ you gasp when he bites the skin of your neck, and he smiles wickedly. Your cunt practically strangles him now, body working to drag his orgasm from him, magic singing in both of your hearts.

His. His. His.

Yours. Yours. Yours.

Your scent overpowers him, the swell of the ocean behind him combined with the salt of your essence pulling him harder into your gravity.

“What do you want?”

“I want your come.” You beg and he snarls, finally losing control, fucking into your eager body with abandon, hard and punishing while you moan and cry beneath him. He takes your earlobe in his teeth before whispering a vow:

“Then you shall have it.” He plays with your clit, the intensity of his strokes matching the pace of his thrusts and you pant eagerly. “You shall have it every day until you are full of me, full with my child.”

“Yes.” You moan, and he feels you moving towards another climax, your muscles spasming and eyes slipping shut.

“I’m going to breed you, give you my baby, sweetling. Make you mine, forever.” Your back arches and you wail, your cunt clamping down on him again, and he thrusts as deep as he can, chasing his release, fueling his burning desire to empty himself inside of you. He lets go completely, untethers his magic, lets it fully fuse with yours as he spills inside of you, the pressure of his orgasm working against your aftershocks, and your own magic that wraps itself wildly around him, clawing at the seat of his power, desperate to attach itself.

Yours. Yours. Yours.

His. His. His.

You fall asleep on his chest, body relaxed and sated, mouth open in a small o. He needs to get you up, needs to get you ready to travel to his realm but in this moment, he’s content to sit here, against the old wooden pier, timing the rise and fall of your breathing and planning for the future, for eternity.

“Will you care for her?” A musical voice asks from a short distance, and his head snaps up to see your sister, the one you stood with on the beach this morning, inclining her head towards your peaceful, sated body that sits snugly in his arms.

“Always.” He promises, and she nods, eyes looking down the shoreline.

“I am happy for her.” She looks sad, forlorn, not unlike how you appeared hours ago.

“It is not too late, for you to hunt. There is still plenty of time before the sunrise.” He tries to encourage, and she nods.

“Perhaps.” Simon briefly wonders if Kyle or Johnny are still in town, a sinister idea forming in his mind, taking shape before his very eyes. He pushes, just the gentlest bit of magic, the piece that’s mixed with yours, towards her. A long moment passes, and then, “I think I’ll walk.” She motions up the pier and gives a goodbye nod, as he strokes a hand down your spine when you shiver in his arms.

You do not stir until she is a speck on the horizon, and when you do, you lift your head wearily, like you’ve slept for a thousand years.

“What’s going on?” you murmur, shifting your dress so it covers your thighs. He presses a light kiss to your forehead before giving an answer.

“We’re going home now, little huntress.”

#peaches writes #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x female reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #mw2 #ghost call of duty #mermaids #mermaids au #magic au #ghost x reader #cod fanfic

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sleepyconfusedpotato · 7 months

Note

Hey can I ask? What will Jade and Ghost son/daughter would look like if they ever had a kid?

okay so this topic about Ghost and Jade's fam in the future has been asked like REPEATEDLY on my ask box since the dawn of Jade's creation LMAO

but thanks to @alypink I finally got to thinking about it and I finally had the time to to draw it! Here it goes! (❁´◡`❁)

Ghost and Jade has three children, Andrew, Jay, and Orion.

Andrew Thomas Riley - (His middle name is named after his late uncle, Tommy) Face looks exactly like Jade, but with Ghost's hair and eye colors. Loves Manchester City so much and dreams of being like Kevin de Bruyne. He has a bright personality like Jade, but has Ghost's competitiveness. A bit annoying, but only he gets to tease his siblings. WOULD FIGHT for his siblings.

Grace Jael Riley - (named after her maternal grandma, Gracie Le Jardin). Her nickname is Jay (Jael ("jay-el") to differentiate her from her grandmother. Face looks exactly like Ghost, but with Jade's hair and eye colors. She's into music - playing guitars and pianos - and loves to write poems. Jay has Ghost's personality and much rather stay in the corners. Spends a lot of time with her grandparents. Jay has some scary ability to make people speak out their hearts to her (blackmail). Her grandma might have some explaining to do.

Orion Riley - A child of Greek descent from Jade's former orphanage where Ghost and Jade often volunteer in. Orion had similar circumstances with Ghost. Orion's father was a drug dealer and addict, and in his intoxicated state had killed his mother. The Rileys then took him as a foster. He is distant and fearful at first, but with the family's nurturing and warm environment, Orion starts to loosen up and finally feels the warmth of a family. VERY close with Ghost and Jay.

Soon after marrying, the Rileys live in Herefordshire, where the SAS residency is. Jade opened a branch of The Garden, and Ghost himself still works as an SAS soldier. Ghost's deployments are short periods, but a lot of deployments every year, so he tries to spend as much time as he can with his kids when he's home, like playing football with Andrew, singing with Jay (however... unique his voice is), and draw with Orion. The way the kids IMMEDIATELY falls asleep when Ghost's reading them bed time stories AAAAAAA.

A very equally disciplined and warm home, they have their shenanigans, but they work every issue out. The grandparents often come to visit and help Jade take care of the kids when Ghost is not home.

Former MI6 black agents from mom's side of the family, and full-on SAS operators for dad and the uncles. Safest group of kids on the planet.

So those are the Lovely Rileys! Hope you love it *(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭*ଘ

#AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #my goodness #how cute #BRAINROT TIMEEE #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod #cod mw #sleepy answers #simon ghost riley #cod mw22 #call of duty modern warfare 2022 #charlotte jade le jardin #ghost x jade #ghost x oc #the rileys #married life #nyehehehehe

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tinietaehyun · 3 months

Text

Bliss of Time

[WhiteRabbit!Soobin x Lost!Reader] [Wondrous Tales] [One-shot Series]

Pairing: WhiteRabbit!Soobin x Lost!Reader

Genres: fantasy, angst, romance, fluff, dark fantasy, alice in wonderland inspired.

Contains: profanity, mentions of beheading, punishment, implications of death, angsty themes, panic attacks, hallucinations, anxiety.

Links: Masterlist | Wondrous Tales Masterlist

Summary: With your abrupt arrival into this whimsical space, you wander around aimlessly. How odd, every turn you took, you ended up in the same spot.

Though as they say, third time’s the charm, when you encounter a blonde haired man, with a top hat and formal attire - goodness, were you going insane already?

The man gives you a gentle smile, walking towards you with his hand outstretched, “Goodness it’s been awhile since we’ve had any guests,” he observes you, “A pretty one no less.” That‘s it, you were definitely going insane.

He brings your hand to his lips with a soft gaze, “You must be so frazzled, guests always are. Well it’s my pleasure to be your guide. Now, come on, chop, chop, time’s ticking.” With a swift tug, you’re getting pulled along by this strangely tall man. What had you gotten yourself into?

Horrendous neon petals, purple stems and red bushes, multicoloured trees. Where on earth were you? Grotesque purple vines everywhere and a cobbled path that you had fallen upon, probably bruising the hell out of your knees.

Brushing yourself off, you stand up taking in your whimsical and wacky surroundings. The air smelled sweet and everything was disgustingly bright here. You yelp seeing a duck and her orange spotted ducklings waddle behind her.

This had to be some sort of dream, right? You picked up an invitation, opened up the envelope and poof! You were here. Yeah, this definitely had to be a dream. You pinch your arm and hiss in pain, no, no, you could feel pain. Perhaps this was just a really realistic dream?

Panic sets into your mind and you peer around lost. Where did you even come from? The sky? You remember falling, but there’s no portal, door or well, anything in the sky from where you supposedly fell. Your gaze drifts to a pitifully old, broken sign with faded letters: ‘Welcome to Wonderland.’

Great, just great. How lovely. You scramble around in your pockets to attempt to get your phone but to no avail. What the fuck? Where did your phone, keys, and whatever else you had on you go? No, no, no. You were well and truly trapped here with not even a way to call for help!

You groan dragging a hand down your stressed face, “Oh I’m fucked,” you shakily murmur, “This is bad, so, so bad.”

Building up some semblance of resilience and determination you begin following the path. Standing around wallowing in distress would get you nowhere, that’s for sure! Thus, you begin trekking down the bumpy path taking in your wild surroundings and hoping for the best.

After what seems like a few minutes, you spot the same neon yellow flower. Your brows furrow, maybe it was just another one of the same species. Yeah. No, wait- that tree with the broken branch, you swore you had passed that before. You look around and see the same broken sign.

“The fuck…?” You question wide-eyed, bamboozled by your circumstances. Did you just walk in one big circle? But the path seemed relatively straight? You didn’t take any turns? Huh? Confusion laces your features and you shake your head to get some bearings.

You walk down the path again, this time making note of key features, making sure you didn’t walk off the path at any point. Your jaw drops ajar seeing the same welcome sign. You were back to the beginning.

Your head pounds and your legs begin to ache. No, no, how long would you have to walk like this? Why was there no sense of direction? Was this your incapability or did this space have mischievous properties preventing you from leaving this spot? Dread fills your soul. A shaky breath escapes you, this was awful.

Would you rot here unable to escape this perpetually horrendous loop?

Shaking your head, you walk down the path. One more time. Maybe you just have to keep trying! Maybe there would be something different at least once, right? So, once again, you march down the path-

Only to be met with the same spot again. A frustrated scream escapes you, “No, no, no!”

Panic, disorientation and fatigue begin to plague your senses. This was the third time. How many more times would you have to walk this god forsaken path? Or were you just destined to never break free? Was this hell? Did you die? You’d go insane here!

The crunch of leaf litter alerts you and you peer around with your heart racing. What was that? Your body tenses and your breath hitches as tall, pale man with blonde locks and an absurdly tall top hat with two white ears embroidered on it as he pushes through the foliage.

You observe the male cautiously, gazing at his formal attire consisting of a baby blue satin shirt and various buckles, a waistcoat and sleek trousers and boots. His face however…was the picture of beauty in this wacky wasteland. So much so it almost causes you whiplash.

Maybe you did die, and this was an angel? His pouty lips, sharp, narrow nose and pale grey eyes. He looked beautiful. Oh, most definitely you must be going insane. Look at you, already hallucinating a stunning man!

The man gives you a gentle smile, walking towards you with his gloved hand outstretched. “Goodness it’s been awhile since we’ve had any guests,” he observes you taking in your face and form, “And a pretty one, no less.” You almost keel over on the spot.

Was this some perverse fantasy your brain thought of? Did you get drugged perhaps?

He clicks his tongue with a humourous hum, “Ah, ah, I see your brain gears turning, no need to overthink,” he pouts cooing, “You must be so confused right now,” he peers at his pocket watch, “I did run late after all! I do sincerely apologise, you can’t get out of the loop without my guidance after all!”

Your expression becomes deadpan. Of course you fucking can’t because that just makes sense, doesn’t it? He rambles softly, “Oh, I’ve been having such a busy day, running around here and there, you couldn’t imagine it! The King’s meeting overran as well because he couldn’t choose what to wear, goodness me-“

You cut in frankly, “Uhm, hey, Mr…?” You drawl awkwardly. “Call me Soobin, also known more commonly as the White Rabbit, the timekeeper. I do apologise, it’s utterly rude to not introduce myself. And you are?”

“Right…” you murmur, “Y/n. My name’s Y/n.” Soobin hums taking your hand and bringing it up to his lips, “Wonderful name. We’ve never ever had a Y/n visit Wonderland before. You must be so frazzled, guests always are. Well, it’s my pleasure to be your guide. Now, come on, chop, chop, time’s ticking.”

With a swift tug, you’re getting pulled along by this strange man. What had you gotten yourself into?

“I already walked this path,” you stammer trying to keep up with his long legs making quick strides. He seemed to be in a hurry. Soobin peers over his shoulder with a smile, “Oh, I’m well aware, lovely.” You quirk confused, “So…why are we walking down this route again?”

He chuckles, “Ah, well for those who don’t live here, the illusions here can be quite difficult to surpass.”

You sigh. You know what, if you want your sanity intact, you decide it’s best not to question it any further. “Right, makes sense,” you mutter. Soobin muses, “It does now, does it? It’s not supposed to, or are you used to walking in never ending loops?”

Rolling your eyes, you hum, “Not particularly, no. It seems you are, though.” He is delighted by your sarcastic remark, “You’ve got a little spunk, I like that. You’ll need some wit and resilience to make it here, after all. Wonderland isn’t for the weak minded.”

You grimace, “Good to know…” You glance down at his hand wrapped around yours. “Uh, Soobin, where exactly are you taking me?” You question unsurely.

“Well, there’s only one destination according to the King of Hearts rules! That’s his palace! All guests must be brought to the palace.” He hums. “King of Hearts? Is he the ruler of Wonderland?” You inquire. Soobin nods, “Indeed he is, it’s rather unfortunate.”

“Unfortunate? Why?” You question. Soobin grimaces, “Well, he’s…rather impulsive. Cruel, even. Often most people don’t make it out of her grasp, he’ll execute them if he grows bored.” You rip your hand out of his grasp with a bewildered expression, “Then why on earth would you take me there?”

Soobin gives you almost a pitiful smile, “It’s my duty to escort all guests to the King. It’s been years since our last guest, I believe you’ll be paraded rather highly.”

You shake your head and exclaim, “No, no, this King of Hearts seems terrible! Do you work for him? How many people have you led to their demise?”

Soobin’s eyes flicker with an unknown emotion, “Come now, lovely. Don’t make this difficult, I’m on a schedule here. Time’s ticking.”

You snap, “What schedule; as if anything in this shitshow of a world has a schedule!” Soobin flinches at your tone and he sighs in frustration, “It’s inevitable I suppose, you are right. I am destined to be late.”

You regard him with a blank expression. What does that even mean? Soobin chuckles at your lost expression, “No matter how much I follow my pocket watch, I’m always late. I have to thank the Hatter for that.”

“You’re throwing a lot of nonsensical words at me, Soobin,” you quip with confusion. Soobin’s fingers trail the rim of his hat, “I do apologise, it must be a lot. You’re the most stable guest I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting, if that makes you feel any better.”

He’s apologising again? You almost feel an ounce of guilt for snapping at him. His eyes glimmer, peering into yours and you can’t help but feel a little bad. Perhaps, he was forced to play this twisted game of leading all those who appear here to what appears to be at most certain doom at the hands of the King of Hearts.

You dryly murmur, “Not really, but I appreciate the effort.” Soobin smiles, “So should we get moving?”

You deadpan, “Towards my death? Absolutely not. I’m awfully boring, you know.” Soobin folds his arms, peering at you, “You seem pretty entertaining now, lovely.” He was so damn pretty you might have almost believed him.

Snorting, you respond, “No, no. I doubt I’d take the King’s interest more than two minutes and oops! Off I go! Getting shot or hanged! Or whatever deranged punishment this world has.”

Soobin corrects you, “He prefers the guillotine, something about how satisfying a clean chop is.” You feel nauseous, “How? How is that meant to make me follow you?” Soobin mumbles, “I do suppose that is rather grotesque.”

You yell, “It’s more than grotesque! It’s fucking absurd! Slaughtering the pitiful souls like myself who have the unfortunate plight of stumbling into this place only to be executed because what? Because your ruler was fucking bored?”

A silence resounds loudly between the two of you as he gazes at you with mixed emotions painting his face. “We should really get going.” Your shoulders droop into a slouch, “Even after all that, you’re more concerned with your fucking schedule?”

A bitter laugh your lips, as you place a hand on your forehead, “God, I’m doomed here. With a guide who has no empathy.”

“I-I do, it’s just- the rules,” Soobin mumbles. You yelp, “Break them! Don’t you feel guilty at all, leading so many souls to their demise?” Your voice holds conviction and an impassioned tone that seems to stir something within Soobin.

“How can you be so complicit?” Your brows furrow, “Don’t you feel even an ounce of guilt? Of remorse, knowing what you’re leading them too? Do you even tell them where you’re taking them? That’s even more morbid!”

Soobin stands there hands behind his back, clasped together. His thoughts in a whirlwind mess; perhaps he shouldn’t have rambled. He never really did know how to contain his thoughts.

“You never know? You could be different? The King may come to like you?” He attempts to soothe your panicked rage. “If I’m not? How many people have you said that line to?” You shakily breathe out.

Silence is what you receive and you peer away wrapping your arms around yourself. Typical. Not one good justification.

Sweat drips down Soobin’s brow. He’d be late. He’d be late. His foot taps against the cobblestone and his heart races, fingers twitching and palms clammy. He’d be late. He had a schedule. His eyes almost seem manic. Guests weren’t usually this aware, this obstinate or stubborn.

Why did your silly words make so much sense in this nonsensical world? He was just doing his job right? He had to. That was his role. Ever since time was killed, he had struggled to keep up any time at all! It was so stressful and now that you were here, it would add to his insurmountable stress of getting you to the King on time before anyone else caught wind of your presence.

You observe Soobin, he seemed panicky. Nervous, anxious and overwhelmed. His pupils had shrunk and a manic expression on his face making you feel uneasy. “Soobin?”

“W-We really should keep m-moving?” He almost asks, as though it’s a question instead of a statement. You glare, “It’s like talking to a wall.” He stammers, “Lovely, I-I- I understand. I- I do.”

“You don’t. Don’t you want to break this cycle? I can see it. You don’t enjoy this. You don’t enjoy this pressure of whatever it is you do,” you plead. A sudden laugh escapes his lips, “Sorry, sorry. I’m just nervous. I laugh when I’m nervous.” Another chortle escapes his lips.

“You don’t need to apologise for everything.” You murmur awkwardly; perhaps he wasn’t as sane as he appears. He lets out another giggle, “L-Lets move, I don’t like standing around. Standing around means doing nothing. Doing n-nothing means no productivity. How c-can anything get done?”

An awful sense of dread fills you and you peer behind you, everything looks the same. You knew without Soobin, navigating Wonderland would be perilous and frankly for naught. Perhaps, you needed to take your chances with the King. Or…you could find a perfect chance to escape as you journey further. Yes, yes, just be patient and pretend to go along with it.

Sighing, you murmur, “Keep walking then, I guess.” A defeated expression coats your face and you see a glimmer of sadness in his eyes and he takes your hand with a subtle pout, “Please don’t be sad, it pain me so to see your pretty face stained by sadness.” You mumble, “Pretty hard to look on the bright side with no way home.”

You both begin walking and he mumbles, “Lovely I, I know.” You say nothing and after awhile, the scenery morphs and you sigh seeing the dancing flowers with their waving leaves. He looks at you expectantly as if he wanted to see you be awed or amused only to be met with your lacklustre reaction. How odd, most guests he guided loved this part!

Soobin stops facing you and tilts your head up by the chin, “Lovely, are these flowers not to your liking? Look at them dancing! Their smiles!” You frown, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” He questions. He laughs, a short manic laugh. “You don’t know. That’s okay. It’s okay not to know,” he reassures with an unsure expression. He tugs you along.

You almost feel bad for the guy. A ticking time bomb you could almost see. He must be under enormous pressure, especially with a ruler like…the King of Hearts. You could sense it, he had an ounce of goodness in there, a little sense of remorse, of guilt.

“Don’t you…don’t you want to spend some time for yourself? Are you ever free?” You ask. The question makes him freeze and he bursts out laughing startling you.

“Time…for myself? Time for myself? For me? How amusing! My lovely, is that what you asked?” You blink at him blankly, “Uh…yes? Doesn’t everyone deserve time off?”

A shattered expression appears on his face and he smiles almost brokenly, “Ah, perhaps in your world but the time keeper never sleeps. Never…dilly dallies.”

Your heart aches; you wonder what this man goes through on a daily basis to behave like this. Then again, being in this place would make anyone go insane.

He releases another frantic laugh, and abruptly cover his mouth, “I- sorr- I mean. You’re not like the other guests. It’s rather strange, how funny! I thought nothing could surprise me anymore in Wonderland. Yet, here you are.”

You raise a brow, “Uh…you mean showing basic empathy?” A manic smile appears on his visage, “Not one of my guests ever cared like you have. They usually just run off and get lost and died in some grave manner or they follow along and become the King’s, I don’t ever,” he giggles quietly, “don’t ever really hear from them again.”

You frown, “Oh Soobin.” He murmurs, “C-Can we move? We should move.” You hum, “Oh right, you don’t like standing around.”

His eyes glimmer as you both walk again, “You’re so…nice. You haven’t run away despite hearing all of this. Have you been here before? Or, or, have you already succumbed to the madness here?”

You sink into your own mind, why haven’t you run off? Maybe because you knew your own rationale and logic wouldn’t do shit here. Glancing back at Soobin, the way his large hand envelopes yours, your heart flutters and aches, you…kinda felt bad. You didn’t want to leave him alone. He gives you a soft, wavering smile, his eyes guilt-ridden.

“Soobin, I-“ your voice cracks. The air between you two becoming heavy. He shakes his head, “That’s preposterous…” he frowns, “That’s impossible. Then…why are you still with me?”

Truthfully, you answer, “I don’t know, Soobin. I just feel inclined to stay, I guess. Not like I could ever navigate this place alone anyway.” Your eyes lock for a moment, a torrent of emotions wash over Soobin and he abruptly peers away. In silence, you both walk along the path. An aura of panic and regret emanates off Soobin.

After a few minutes, you spot a large meadow full of pearlescent flowers, utterly gorgeous, glistening under the sun. In awe, you point at the meadow, “Those are so stunning, Soobin. I-“

Soobin murmurs, “Moon Lillies, beautiful aren’t they?” He peers at your wide-eyed excitement. His heart aches, you were different from the others who has the misfortune to arrive here in Wonderland.

Seeds of doubt had been implanted into his mind from your impassioned speech and thoughts. Did he really have to lead you down this path to your doom? Into Yeonjun’s grasp? Could…could this time be different?

Timidly, Soobin asks, “Why don’t we go take a look?” The very notion of taking a minor detour had his hands clamming up and heart palpitating fast. Time, time, time. He had work to do. He couldn’t dilly dally.

You squeal grasping his hand in gratitude, “Oh thank you! Yes, yes!” But how could he deny your endearing expression of exhilaration and joy? Maybe just a little detour wouldn’t be an issue, then the both of you would go right back onto the path. Yes, precisely.

Momentarily, your eyes widen in surprise as he in turn envelopes his large gloved hand over yours leading you towards the thousands of flowers. You can’t help but admire the way he walks, his strong, secure hold on your hand. His angelic features, the ever so subtle crease between his brows as though he was always deep in thought.

You had a feeling this wasn’t exactly part of the plan and would only delay the inevitable. Though, you were unsure why someone as obsessed with schedules and time would take this detour merely because you fawned over these flowers.

Did your words get to him? You feel his grasp on your hand tighten and you finally reach the sea of flowers. Oh, how ethereal this place was, a stark contrast to the wacky surroundings, this place also had its moments of beauty apparently?

“Soobin, these are beautiful, I can’t believe these exist.” You fawn in excitement releasing his hand as you run through the flowers, feeling free and almost magical in a sense. Soobin observes you as you wade and spin carefree through the flowers with a soft smile trying his best to ignore his twitching fingers and shaky hands.

“Only in Wonderland,” he muses, watching you prance around with an almost childlike innocence. Something stirs within him, the urge, no, the need to protect you from the horrors deeper located in this place. From the Red King of Hearts, the Cheshire Cat, and god forbid the Hatter. No. No he couldn’t let another soul become destroyed here.

You were right. Time for himself, to indulge in such a luxury…such as now. Felt revitalising, thrilling. Soobin peers at his shaking hands. Time. Time. Would he make it on time? No, why, why did he have to make it on time? Time was killed. But, why? Why did he have to follow this terrible cycle? Because he was afraid?

A short strangled laugh escapes his lips before morphing into a manic cackle startling you. “S-Soobin?” His bizarre gaze meets yours, “Yes, yes lovely, you’re right. Time for myself. I have a choice. I…I don’t have to go through with this. Not when…not with you, lovely.”

You murmur, “Are…you okay?” He lets out a laugh, “Yes, yes, I’m just not-” a giggle slips out to which he covers his mouth, “Yes, just not used to so much free time…such indulgence.” You frown peering down at his viciously shaking hands. What had this place done to this poor man? He seemed so panicky and anxious?

You tentatively approach him and take his hands in yours, peering up at him with an awkward but comforting smile, “Breathe. Breathe with me, Soobin. Look around you, how could you not stop to ever take in the sights?” You had learnt some breathing exercises when you were younger whenever you felt overwhelmed. It should help right?

“Sights…never had time,” he murmurs deliriously peering around at the flowers surrounding you two. The glistening pollen coating your skin in a pearlescent sheen. Soobin gazes down at you with a shaky breath; your big eyes peering up through your lashes, your lips moving, telling him to breathe with such a soft voice. Your hands, petite in comparison to his. How he wished to feel your velvet skin against his, ungloved.

Another strangled laugh, “Sorry, sorry. I’m just a little panicked is all.” You’re a bit taken aback as he grips your hands back tightly. Okay, perhaps he wasn’t entirely sane, but certainly quirky. His pupils were blown out and shaky breaths tumble from his luscious lips.

“Relax, Soobin. It’s okay. Nothing will happen. Uh…you don’t even need to worry, something about time getting killed right? It’s all in your head,” you reassure. Soobin gives you a smile (perhaps a little too wide, but he was cute regardless).

“Yes…yes. Time is…dead. No matter how much I hurry, I am bound to be late. No doubt about that now that we are here in this meadow,” he shakily hums. “Yes, yes, yes,” he deliriously hums, almost delighted by the bizarre revelation you’ve provided him.

Oh, how kind you were, knocking some sense into him! He was going to be late anyway, why not spend some time with you…his new favourite guest? His….lovely. Why did the King have to always ruin things? Why couldn’t the White Rabbit indulge in himself for a while? Yes, yes, he could, couldn’t he? It’s not so absurd of thought is it?

Soobin gazes at you as you wait expectantly. Oh how adorable you were! You yelp as he suddenly draws you into a tight hug. His large frame envelopes yours; the body heat of his seeping onto your frame; you murmur awkwardly returning the hug, “Ah, thank…you? May I ask why-“

Soobin releases you with a glimmer in his eyes, “You’re too good for this world. I’d hate to see anything happen to you. I…I feel as though you do not deserve your tragic fate. You have touched me unlike any other guest I’ve led.” He leans down and your breath hitches as he gives you a sweet smile, “The others, they cannot know of you. They’ll only know if I bring you to the palace right?” A wavering laugh escapes him once more.

You gulp, he was getting rather attached rather quickly. Huh, maybe this really was your ticket out of here. Your peer up at him again, he was…rather cute. He had this now hyper quality to him, which you attributed to breaking through his usual exterior and facade. Soobin murmurs, "Look over there.” He spins you with your shoulders and points over to the distance and you spot shimmering reflections and upon closer inspection, jewels hanging off the trees? No…not quite.

His breath brushes against your neck as he murmurs, “Diamond apples.” You splutter, “What, apples?”

“Diamond, they’re even prettier close up, I’ve heard. Though I’ve not see them,” another giggle, “But now, now let’s go. We’ll run out of time otherwise.” You stammer, “Didn’t you just say there wasn’t enough-“

He tugs you behind him as he strides quickly towards the diamond apple orchard using what seems to be a large glistening lake as a placeholder for direction. “Hey- let’s not get hasty-“ you breathlessly pant trying to make your legs keep up with him.

Soobin cackles peering back at you, “Come on, lovely,” his eyes wide and smile large, “Come on, don’t you want to have fun?” The sentence almost gives you whiplash, was this the same dude you had initially stumbled upon? Were you the one going insane? Surely not. No, he was. You weren’t.

Oddly enough, it settled your heart at ease to see him finally being carefree (albeit at your expense), well, not like you had anything to do. You chuckle as he trips over his own foot and he smiles bashfully. Oh damn him…and his charm!

Now that you mention it, his golden hair that bounced with the breeze underneath his hat, looked so utterly soft. You wonder how it would feel if you… No, keep it together y/n! He takes your other hand and spins you around and you squeal, feeling the wind whip through your hair and you let out a laugh. “Now who’s the serious one?”

“Hypocrite,” you murmur panting. He grins, a small pinkish hue coating his cheeks, “Oh lovely, I know…but I cannot explain how enlightened you’ve made me feel. You must care so much for me.”

You give him a bashful smile. You suppose you could say that…more so basic empathy but you weren’t one to ruin people’s delusions. This was probably his first break that he’s ever had. Huh, how odd…

You lock eyes as he looks at you, a gaze holding such adoration. Perhaps a little too much to be comfortable. He murmurs, snapping himself out of it, “C-Come on, we’re almost there.” Another tug and you yelp, laughing as he pulls you along, “Hold on-!”

The breeze wafts through your locks as you both run through the meadow and you can’t help but grin like an idiot. Both of your clothes stained with the pearlescent pollen giving your skin a shimmering hue akin to the reflection of the moon on open water. The sweet smell becoming ever so slightly disorienting.

Soon enough, you see the sparkling water of the massive lake, glittering under the comically large sun. Beside the lake is indeed an orchard and beautifully hung diamond apples. They really did look like diamonds carved into the shape of apples with their jagged and sculpted edges. Stunning, truly.

In amazement, you walk up to one of the trees, your hands trailing over the rough bark and peering up at the apples glimmering and glittering under the sun, “They’re gorgeous, wow…” “Aren’t they just?” He fawns.

Reaching up, he picks one handing it to you. It feels a little cold to the touch but you admire it as you ask, “Does it just grow like this? Is it edible? I don’t even know how this possible.”

Soobin takes in the cute expression you make as your curiosity overwhelms you, “Yes, it does grow this way naturally, and no, it’s not edible, well,” he lets out a chuckle, “Unless you want to lose your teeth that is.”

You raise a brow, “Uh, speaking from experience or…?” He gives you a wide grin, pointing at his pearly intact teeth, “No not me, lovely. I saw another do the same foolishly, all his teeth broke.” You grimace, “Right, of course.”

He peers at you, “Anything can grow here in Wonderland. Nothing’s impossible here, well, apart from eating this.” You snort, shaking your head, “I suppose so.”

You peer back up at into the foliage and canopy of the apple tree and a particularly large one catches your eye, on a slightly higher branch. It has little crystal blossoms too, oh, how incredibly pretty!

Soobin’s gaze seems to align with yours and he hums, “Do you want it, lovely? I can pick it for you?” Your brows furrow, “You may be rather ridiculously tall, but I damn well know that’s even high for you.” He peers down at you for a moment, the gears in his head turning. He lets out a laugh and his arms outstretch, “Then, we’ll join our heights. I’ll help you up.”

Stammering you halt his hands, “It’s alright-“ He tilts his head in confusion at your hesitance and you almost melt at the instinctual pout forming on his lips. Does he even realise how cute he looks at the moment? Ah…shit. Fine.

Mumbling, you reply, “Okay, uh, alright then. Pick me up- sorry if I’m too hea-“ You squeal as his hands grip your waist hoisting you up and a chaotic giggle escapes your lips as your hands steady yourself on a branch. You hear him snickering, “I believe my arms will get sore soon, lovely. I’d hate to drop such a pretty thing due to my own incapacity.”

A warmth bursts through your cheeks at his words. Clearing your throat, you stretch your arm up, twisting the apple and plucking it with the blossoms attached to its stem. Wow, it’s even prettier close up. “You can put me down,” you suggest. You yelp as you slip in his arms and your find your back pressed against his chest and arms securely wrapped around you. The smooth timbre of his voice resounds in your ear, “My apologies, my gloves do make it hard to hold onto you for very along. Are you hurt?”

Flustered, you turn around, “N-No.” Well, maybe your heart was in tatters at this point, but other than that, no. He peers at you, your gazes locking once more. He murmurs quietly, “Oh, you get cuter by the minute.”

You scoff setting some distance between the two of you, “I- oh hush.” Soobin smiles, “It’s true? Why must you be so reluctant to accept a compliment?” You huff, “Well, you’re handsome, saying that to me is just- of course I’ll be flustered!”

You observe a familiar tinge of pink dusting his cheeks and you smirk, “Ha! There! You know how I feel now.” Clearing his throat, “L-Lets get a move on,” he grasps your hand tugging you along.

“S-Soobin where are we going?” You yelp stumbling behind him. Damn him and his long legs. “I-I don’t know. But we’ve stayed here too long.” A hint of anxiety permeates his gaze and his fingers tighten around your hand.

You look up at the sky and notice the sun hasn’t changed position. Huh, time was truly dead here. You wonder how much time has passed back in your world. Seconds? Minutes? Days? Years? You shudder not wanting to give yourself an existential crisis.

You halt your feet seeing the shore of the lake, “Soobin, let’s sit by the lake.” He freezes looking at you over his shoulder, “Is…Is that okay?” Now he truly was as timid as a rabbit, goodness he was super hyper awhile back? “Uh…why wouldn’t it be?” You question confused.

“I just…nothing bad will happen right?” He shakily murmurs, “I-I have never done this. Gone off the…the path like this,” another panicked laugh escapes him, “It’s- It’s oddly thrilling, but I’m terrified at the same time. What…what if the King finds out?”

Soobin’s eyes shake as you both walk, “My…My head…” His voice wavers and you frown, “He can only know if you bring me to him right?”

He mutters, “Yes, yes. Right? It works that way right? There’s no way he can know. I always bring the guests to him. That’s just the way it is.” He peers back at you with uneasy smile, “As long as you remain with me, he…he’ll never know.”

The words strike a chord within you, making you feel ever so slightly anxious and at unease. The King seemed to be a terrifying person. You shiver, there was no way you could go to him! Soobin was your best bet for now!

You murmur reassuringly, squeezing his hand, “Hey, hey,” you smile softly, “Breathe.” The poor blonde haired man looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack. He smiles shakily, “Yes…yes, breathe, thank you, lovely.”

With a swift tug, you’re both walking towards the shore of the lake. The water laps against the sediment and you have the urge to dip your feet into the refreshing water. Hurriedly, you remove your shoes and settle down by the shore dipping your toes into the immensely cooling water.

“Ah…” you sigh, it felt good after all that walking and running. You look up at him with your hand outstretched, “Come on Soobin, lighten up. Have you tried this before?”

He observes you almost as if you were the insane one here. How ironic! Tentatively, he sits down beside you and grimaces at the feeling of the dirt against his fine fabric. For you, he thinks, he’s willing to try. His heart races with anticipation. He likes this. With you, he felt as though time itself had stopped for you both (well, it already had but that’s besides the point.)

You look over to meet his gaze and you’re once again struck by his beautiful features. He removes his top hat putting is aside and your eyes widen ever so slightly at his fluffy blonde hair. Oh…to run your fingers through it.

Embarrassed at such a thought, you redirect your gaze back to the lapping waters and glistening surface of the lake. You feel his gaze on you, you find your hands fidgeting awkwardly. In an odd and twisted sense…this almost felt like a date.

You almost might have keeled over if this happened in real life, well, this was real life but…also not. You peer back over at Soobin, you’d never met someone like him before. Well, he was clingy you suppose in his own endearing way, and clearly had some issues to resolve, but doesn’t everyone?

“You’re…” he begins before looking away, a blush appearing on his cheeks. “I’m…?” You answer. “No, it’s just…” he mumbles, “…you’re so different. So…pure-hearted. Most just go against with the antics here and I…I have no choice but to lead them to the King of Hearts. But-but you…” With a bashful hum, you shrug, “No, no, you’re making me sound as though I changed your entire life. I just…I believe you needed some time off.”

In hesitation, you bite your lower lip, “I also… truthfully, I didn’t want you to take me to the King. So…I thought I could persuade you, you know? To not do that? By…taking a detour?” You wanted to be transparent, perhaps that would be a mistake, maybe he would tug you right back up and back onto the cobblestone path.

Soobin lets out a laugh, “Oh lovely, I’m aware. But who am I to stop you when we’re this far off? In fact you have enlightened me so, to the idea of going off the path, both figuratively and literally.” You let a breathy laugh, “You’re…not going to take me back to the path then?”

He muses slightly shakily, “No one has come for us, so far. This peace, I have never felt before. It’s…It’s addicting.”

His gaze pierces through you, “You’re addicting, lovely. You make me feel at ease. As though I am not slacking off, but spending meaningful time.” Okay, perhaps, he was very clingy, but you’d let it fly only because the way he looked at you made your heart perform a gymnastics routine within your ribcage and leaves you oddly breathless.

The cool water laps at your feet and you close your eyes feeling the soft breeze. A comfortable silence overlooks the two of you, sat side by side. Soobin peers at your hand on the ground and inches his fingers forward ever so slightly. You don’t let this go unnoticed as you try to keep from smiling like an idiot.

All this time, he had no problem grabbing your hand and pulling you along, but now, he was hesitating? You inch your fingers closer to his and his hand halts in surprise before you give him a small, shy smile. Your fingers intertwine over each other, enjoying the solace together. How odd, that a place as bizarre as Wonderland could be so…tranquil?

“For once I am glad that time is no longer a thing, for once, I am glad that I am destined to be late, so that I could have fortuitous opportunity to meet you,” he speaks. Your heart flutters and you murmur, “You certainly have a way with words.”

“I speak the truth, lovely, do I not?” He questions. A moment of quiet passes and he flushes as you scoot closer to him. The curve of his ears turning a subtle hue of red. “It’s…nice like this, to relax. Not have anything to worry about.”

It was a stark contrast to your busy life. Most of it spent working and socialising (much to your disinclination), it was draining. But here, you felt so…free. Unbound. Lightweight even, as though a speck of dust flowing in a beam of sunlight.

“…Do you also work…hard? What is the world you come from like? Your world must have time, it has been years since we have followed a clock. I’m the only one who does,” he brings out a golden pocket watch. It ticks and the gears churn but the hour and minute hand seem to move back and forth. How on earth does he even use that thing?

“Ah, well, yes, I do have a job. It…takes up majority of my time, unfortunately. It’s,” you breathe shakily, “It’s rough, but gotta get paid, you know?”

“Paid? You get money?” He questions and you gawk absurdly, “You…don’t?” He murmurs, “…No? It is merely my duty, as the White Rabbit, the Timekeeper,” he answers nonchalantly.

Well, you do suppose, living in this world, you’d be so insane, that money would the last of your worries. Nothing made sense here. You snort, “Right, of course. Normal rules don’t apply here, I forgot.”

Soobin inquires softly; his eyes glistening with curiosity, “Could…you tell me about your world? Your life? What’s it like?” He was so interested in you, it made your heart feel so utterly warm.

His fingers tighten their grasp atop yours, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand. Soobin regards you expectantly and you begin to describe your terribly mundane life. As you do so, he pays you much attention, you don’t miss the way his eyes drop to your lips and back up to meet your gaze.

You don’t miss the way he shifts ever so slightly closer. How enamoured he seems to be with you, and oddly, how you relish in this attention, something you’ve never experienced before. “Your voice…I like hearing you talk,” he murmurs, not taking his eyes off you.

You hum, “I could say the same, your voice is nice to hear too.” It had a husk to it, but soft edge at the same time. “You, like my voice, lovely?” He quirks up at your words, eyes flickering with delight. His lips twitch in excitement.

Lovely. Oh goodness…the way he called you that, since you arrived. It just scratched your brain in all the right places. Fuck, were you becoming just as delusional? At this rate you were going to fall in love with a man you had just met!

You look back at Soobin who observes you as you have a mental debate with yourself. You can’t help but let your eyes flicker down to his utterly kissable lips. Oh, how unfair was life.

“Yes, I do…” you finally breathe out. He murmurs, a slight rasp to his voice; the tension in the air palpable, almost sweet to the taste, “Is there anything else you like?”

You hum, “About you?”

“About me,” he confirms. Since when did you get this close to him? Or did he get close to you? Your shoulders were touching, so were your thighs. Oh fuck, what was happening?

Shakily, you respond, “About…you, your hair. Your eyes…” He nods slowly his gaze travelling down from your hair, to your eyes down your face to your lips. Breathless, you resume, “Your…lips.”

Your faces were so close now, inches apart. Breaths mingling, noses brushing against each other. Oh how tempting, was this some sort of test? An illusion? You didn’t know, but something about this moment alone, made him ever so utterly irresistible.

“My…lips?” He breathes, and you nod. “I like yours too,” he breathlessly murmurs. With that, your hand cups his cheek and you lean forward pressing your lips to his. Ah well, fuck it, you’re in this deep and you doubt you could find your own way out, might as well do what you’d never normally do in the normal world, right?

Never knew, you had the capability to ensnare the White Rabbit of Wonderland. Choi Soobin. How odd indeed! Oh but the sweetness of his lips against yours was just too good, too sweet, too addictive.

Soobin’s other hand slides around your waist tugging you closer, his back hunches leaning over and tilting his head slightly giving you better access as your lips move against each other, tongues ever so slightly brushing against each other but not quite enough.

He speaks against your lips, “You’re irresistible.” You smile against his lips, “I could,” he kisses back fervently, “say, the same, ah” you breathe out pleasurably. His lips felt so soft.

Soobin felt as though he was indeed in heaven, kissing you felt more like a dream. An escape from his unshackled yet bound duties. An escape from his never ending time. Oh…how could he possibly let you go? He didn’t want you to leave, if you did…he-he’d have to wait for another guest (who would be nowhere near as perfect as you!) or in the meanwhile resume his duties for the King!

When he got this sweet taste of temptation, how could he ever go back to the way things were? Oh, no, no, no…

You release a muffled yelp of surprise as he leans forward caging your frame between his arm on the ground, his fingers still intertwined with yours and the other around your waist, as he kisses more passionately, desperately even. A groan escapes his lips; he was kissing you like a starved man, a man who was desperate. It had you feeling all sorts of ways, made your body buzz with anticipation and nervous excitement.

He breathes out, “Mm, I could spend all my time doing this,” and you let out a chuckle, “Ah, that’s quite the…suggestion there. I thought you didn’t like waiting around.” He pecks your lips, trailing the bridge of his nose along your jaw to your neck, “I don’t… but for some reason…now I don’t care, lovely.”

Both of you part, his forehead rests upon yours. This moment felt as though you were apart of a fairytale. You didn’t want it to end. He cups your face, “I find myself rather fond of you,” he smiles a little too widely, “Really fond of you.”

You shakily murmur, “I…I can tell.” Soobin murmurs, “How I wish, you could stay in Wonderland with me, there are so many more places to see. To show you. So much more we can do,” he murmurs. He parts from you keeping a hand cupped around your cheek. “Must you really return back home?” His brows furrow, “Must you really try to find the exit?”

Woah now, oh right! You were trying to get back home. That completely slipped your mind. Huh. You mumble, “Oh…right. Yeah, I- I probably should.”

Soobin pleads, “Oh lovely, but you bring me such solace and peace. Can’t you stay? We can hide away here, away from the rest? Didn’t you say you liked it here with no responsibilities and no burdens?” Oh dear, he is awfully persistent. You give him a small smile, “Soobin…you know I can’t.”

“Even…even after we kissed? Won’t you miss me?” His hands tremble and the familiar expression of panic coats his features, “H-H-How will I return back to my duties? W-What if I go insane like the Hatter? Once you leave…there’s no way you c-can even visit-“

“Hold on now, Soobin- lets calm down-“ you stammer awkwardly. You really needed him to guide you to the exit, he clearly knows where it is, if he’s speaking like this. However the trembling waver in his voice and pleading gaze twist and churn your heart in a painful manner. For some reason you felt almost a touch of guilt.

Perhaps it was the momentary euphoria, the blissful nature of everything that caused you two to bond so well, to become so…intimate, romantic even.

Did he fall for you already? Surely not, perhaps he’s just clinging onto the ideals you imparted, the way you make him feel at ease, not you, yourself. Right? Oh, but the way he’s looking at you tells you the very opposite. He wishes for your very being. You shift awkwardly peering away, “Soobin…I-“

He lets out a frantic laugh before covering his mouth, “It’s fine,” another manic laugh. “Really, I-I- understand. I…what was I thinking? That you’d wanted to stay. Wonderland is…a horrid place under this…this… whimsical facade.” He seems to be desperately muttering to himself trying his best to organise his chaotic thoughts.

“No, no, no, I can’t let the others lay their hands on you, you do not deserve such cruelty. If…If I can’t have you…then they certainly cannot.” Your heart drops to your stomach, well, that was certainly ominous. Surely, he wouldn’t be this possessive, right?

With more delirious murmuring, he abruptly stands placing his top hat back on and outstretches his hand to help you up. You peer at his cautiously, “W-Where are we going, Soobin?”

A pained look crosses his eyes, “The exit. You…you do not wish to…be here. And I do not wish to take you to the king. We are already off schedule, the path. I don’t want their f-filthy hands on you.”

You carefully take his hands and he pulls you into a hug. Your heart races; he was acting rather strange. “Come, come, chop, chop, let’s go. Time’s ticking.” Your eyes widen in as he tugs you along once more with determination. “Uh- are you sure, I mean- are you really just letting me go? I don’t know about this- Soobin- Soobin? Are you listening?” You call out.

An aura of paranoia surrounds him. Did the King already know? There’s no way. Well…there’s no way to tell if he did already know. If he did, then there would already be troops out on the hunt. He was the only one in Wonderland who knew when guests arrived. Right?

As much as it hurt him to do so, he knew he could only hide you for so long before suspicions would arise with the others. You wouldn’t last a day with the others. No, no, no. He couldn’t let that happen. He had to let you go.

Perhaps, perhaps he could find a way to visit your world instead. He’s always had been a little different from the rest of the mad bunch. He wasn’t insane, right? No, he was the normal one. He was always the normal one. That’s why you got along so well with him, well, that’s what he thinks anyway. There he was preoccupied with his thoughts again.

Yes, yes, he could attempt to visit your world. You must have had that invite with you, he could work with that. Somehow. Then you could be his safe little secret. Maybe…he could escape this hellhole for good? He would never have to serve the Hatter or King of Hearts ever again? A delusional laugh escapes Soobin’s lips as he strides along. Yes, yes, yes!

You observe him with a concerned expression, whatever internal battle he was having with himself didn’t seem to bode well for you. You wonder what he’s thinking of as he grins to himself.

As you walk along some foliage, a sudden checkered path appears and there’s a large hole in the ground, quite literally like a rabbit burrow. He stammers, “This…this is a short cut to the other side of Wonderland. It’s a bit dark but how I often move around.” You peer at the embroidered white rabbit ears on his hat. You deadpan, “…how fitting.”

“You’re not claustrophobic are you?” He asks shakily. “Uh…” you hesitate peering down into the dark hole, “Depends how narrow it can get.” “It’s okay, I’m with you,” he reassures. You grimace, “Wouldn’t that make it even more cramped?” His eyes widen, “But, but, I need to get you to the exit! I need to!”

You peer at him surprised, “Weren’t you opposed to all that before-“ Soobin clasps both your hand with a pleading gaze, “Come on, lovely, trust me. Trust me. I want you to be safe. I’m not insane like the others, I want to protect you from them.”

From who? The king? The others? Protect? Your head spins, fucking hell, there’s too much happening.

All of a sudden, the both of you are startled with a trumpet blowing and the heavy sound of armoured footsteps. You yelp clinging onto Soobin’s arm, “What the fuck is that?!” There’s no response, you look up to see how pale he’s become, “S-Soobin? Soobin? Hello? Hey!”

His lips twitch into a shaky smile, “Oh. Ah, they’ve found us. How…convenient. I thought no one else knew about you.” What the fuck was going on? Who? Your eyes widen as you tug his arm towards the hole, “Come on! Ah, I’m not claustrophobic all of a sudden! Let’s get moving!”

“It’s too late,” he sighs. You snap pulling at his arm, “The fuck you mean it’s too late?! Come on, move your feet!” He seems to be glued to his spot with fear in his eyes.

You panic as you see several armoured guards. A few holding a banners with ominous red hearts and tassles. Many hold heart shaped spears and stand in formation. A few aim heart shaped arrows at the two of you. You freeze, you were well and truly fucked. No wonder he wasn’t moving.

“Is..Is this the-“ you begin with trepidation. “The Red King of Heart’s troops, yes. Yes they are, lovely,” he answers weakly. One of the knights steps out and bellows, “The White Rabbit has been charged with treason and the dearest guest of Wonderland has been charged as an accomplice!”

You gawk enraged, accomplice? Treason! You snap, “What? We did nothing! You mean having fun is against the rules here?”

The knight ignores your protests and continues, “I hereby come on orders of the King to escort our guest as per usual ordinance since you have failed to do so White Rabbit.”

You look at Soobin who seems to remain silent gripping your hand like a vice. The knight’s eyes snap to yours, “Dearest guest, upon your arrival to the palace, you will be greeted hospitably by our ruler and also face minor punishment for your hand in deviating our timekeeper.”

You snarl, “You were watching!?” The troops flinch at your words and Soobin sighs, “It’s over, lovely. I knew I shouldn’t have deviated. I…I knew this was too good to be true. To indulge myself or to keep you safe. The moment you set foot here, there is only one path to take. After all, time is stuck here.”

You blink at him, anger rolling through you in waves, “Stop all this nonsense! Soobin! This-“ You splutter helplessly; you didn’t even know what to say to that!

“Please come with us with no retaliation or we will be forced to take more harsh measures. That pertains more to you, our dear guest.” They begin marching towards the two of you. Fuck, if you ran into the burrow, they’d shoot all the arrows.

“C-Can we not negotiate?” You stammer however your pleas ring on deaf ears. You scream as they encroach closer and Soobin’s hand never leaves yours; a defeated expression on his face, “I’m sorry, lovely. For my foolishness has gotten us here. It appears that our time, is up.”

Your eyes begin watering, “No, Soobin, no-“ The knights lunge at Soobin and pry him away and you scream piercingly grabbing his arms attempting some semblance of defiance. No, no, they couldn’t take him away from you! Fuck! You couldn’t go to the King!

You cry out, “Give him back! Please, we’ll both go! He’ll take m-me to the palace, in- in- fact, you can escort us b-both there! Promise!” Soobin peers at you as he gets ruthlessly tugged away and finally your grip slips with a final tug, your fingers lose touch and you gasp out painfully, “Soobin!”

The knights haul him away and you spot tears running down his face and his lips form a smile, “It’s okay…cooperate with them. Please. Just cooperate with them, l-lovely.” He hisses as they pin his arms back behind him and he grunts as he writhes against their grasp. He knew what his fate would be.

Tears drip down his cheeks and you see him begin to laugh, making your heart jump to your throat in nausea. It was different laugh from what you previously heard, it was…worse. Maddening. Soobin cackles as tears run down his face, “Lovely, don’t be sad, don’t be sad, please, please, please.”

More and more maniacal laughter emits from him. You peer around at the knights who seem utterly unfazed by his insane outburst. You tremble frozen to your spot as you feel the knights grip your arms pulling them behind you. Soobin is dragged away laughing and crying simultaneously; it caused your heart to ache.

Your throat feels dry and your fingertips cold as ice, fear envelopes you. You were alone once more, in this…new version of hell. You shakily ask the knights who grip and shove you forward, “W-What’s going to happen to Soobin?”

“The White Rabbit has been charged with treason for going against the order of the King. Thus, his punishment will naturally be an execution through beheading,” the knight says nonchalantly. “He’s the timekeeper, you can’t just-“ you stammer shakily. He interrupts with a cruel laugh, “Dearest guest, anything can be replaced. Even you. There’s been many guests though you have been the most different. Now you too, will end up on the same path.”

You feel sick. No…this had to be a bluff. You hear the other knights release a twisted chuckle. “Our majesty has been rather eager to see you.”

Another knight hums amused, “I wonder if they’ll make it longer than the last one.” They all resounding laugh as your blood runs cold.

In a resounding cheer, they haul you along like a lifeless puppet, “In the name of the King of Hearts, march forward!”

Taglist: @naoristerling @staaaarykids @tremendousphantommiracle @lun4kazumii @lunathewritingcat @ur-mother-realnotclickbait @taehyhunnzly @20crowsinahoodie @baekberrie @syraphyina @fullbodyblankets @soohashits @f4iryfever @themochiverse @atiny-chocolate-chip @nothingwithoutgyu @ethystclove @hancafe @nap-of-a-starr @isa942572 @evn-09 @ninitorih @m3chigo @tenleeluvr

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torukmaktoskxawng · 1 year

Text

our paths crossing

Pairing: Tsu’tey x Avatar!Reader + Adopted!Spider

Summary: Tsu’tey is given a second chance at life, but not even Eywa could convince him to accept it.

Word Count: 9k+

Warnings: single mom power, generational trauma, parental manipulation (tsu’tey’s parents suck), fluff

Na'vi words used: pa'li - direhorse, nivi - hammock, olo'eyktan - clan leader, ikran - mountain banshee, Iknimaya - Rite of Passage, marui - home, oel ngati kameie - I See you, taronyutsyìp - little hunter, teylupil prrnen - teylu face baby, niktsyey - food/leaf wrap, tsaheylu - bond, sa'nok - mother, Uniltaron - Dream Hunt, irayo - thank you, tawtute - human, tswin - queue braid, maitan - my son, sa'sem - parents, taronyu - hunter, tsahik - spiritual leader, tsakarem - tsahik in training, meresh'ti cau'pla - banshee catcher

A/N: This was heavily inspired by other Tsu’tey works written by @simps256 @byunpum @shu-box-puns and @little-box-of-autism on Tumblr, and @ AlexiHollis on Ao3

~~~~~~~~~

PANDORA, 2154+

Everything is connected, one way or another. From the tiny stem of a plant, to the pa'li that steps on it, and to the ginormous tree looming over it. Pandora is made up of various different sizes of networks, from microscopic to gigantic. Some are easier to see than others. The network of tree branches and roots is clearly visible, but there are small ones, not physically distinct, and Eywa can see it all as clear as day.

The same goes for two souls. When two Na'vi-- when two souls mate, they are mated for life. It won't matter if they met when they were children or if their paths meet when they are old and wrinkled. Two souls are still two souls, meant for each other no matter how or when they meet.

Tsu'tey, like all Na'vi, believed this to be true. Sylwanin was the soul meant for him, ever since they were children. However, Eywa had other plans in mind for the young couple and destiny tragically separated them, forever shattering their former entwined paths. Later in life, Tsu'tey finally accepted that all things happen for a reason, and perhaps in another life, Sylwanin would have been his mate. But in this life, Eywa protects the balance of it all and in order for Jake Sully to one day arrive and save this beautiful world, beautiful souls like Sylwanin would have to be sacrificed. Tsu'tey came to terms with this one day, weeks after the battle against the Sky People.

He had plenty of time to think about many things, lying in his nivi and resting from his injuries. As Toruk Makto, Jake happily took temporary command of the Omatikaya clan whilst their olo'eyktan healed from his wounds. It would be a long journey for Tsu'tey, but those who respect him and call him 'brother' were just happy he survived that fall and all those gunshots. At first, he was not as happy or even relieved. Why would Eywa deny him the chance to see Sylwanin again? As he took time to heal, he eventually mourned properly for the first time in years and was able to heal mentally as well as physically. Tsu'tey had finally managed to let his young love go, may she rest in peace.

In return for his loyalty and devotion, Eywa rewarded her olo'eyktan with a gift fit for a good man. However, it would be years before he graciously accepted it.

Tsu'tey was always aware of the other sky demons possessing Na'vi bodies. He had seen many over the years, especially when he was just a student in Grace Augustine's school. He had always found them strange and ugly and didn't hesitate to let Jake know how he felt about his appearance. Jake never took it to heart and eventually learned to laugh at such comments. Tsu'tey grimaced, almost hating the fact that Jake was getting used to him. The other dreamwalkers --"Avatars, brother, they're called avatars,"-- never really got used to him but they greatly respected him, especially after Tsu'tey allowed them to live among the Omatikaya once the rest of the Sky People were sent off-world. He had accepted these 'scientists' and 'avatars' into his village, much to Toruk Makto's influence, and so therefore, over time, Tsu'tey began to treat them all as part of the People-- his people.

As he accepted the sky demons, he also began to learn their names. One of which he was always aware of but had never bothered to learn her name.

Y/n was an avatar driver and a scientist. Even though she hadn't been on Pandora for long, she had been allowed to visit Hometree several times before its destruction, always tagging along when either Grace or Norm Spellman visited. She was part of the young group of scientists who had received an avatar before the battle against the Sky People that actively cut off the scientists' funding to make more, therefore she would be one of the last of them, as would Norm and Jake. In many ways, it was like watching the end of a species that would cease to exist once the avatars all died out. That is until children like Kiri and Lo'ak were born.

By the time Neytiri bore Jake their first son and had adopted Grace's daughter born of mysterious circumstances, Tsu'tey had begun to notice that Y/n was not just a random avatar who opted to stay on Pandora. She had also opted into becoming a mother.

It was safe to say Tsu'tey didn't know of Spider's existence firmly because the baby wasn't old enough to wear a mask and exo-pack yet, therefore he had never visited the village. It wasn't until the fierce olo'eyktan followed Jake to the functional biolab of Hell's Gate one day did he finally meet the next generation of Sky People. At first, Spider was strange to him. With a full head of yellow curls, pink skin, and a gummy smile, Tsu'tey gained enough willpower not to verbally comment about how the sky demons' offspring were even uglier than the avatars. Jake had asked him to be civil prior to this meeting, so he indulged his brother out of respect for Toruk Makto.

If Y/n had seen how put-off Tsu'tey was by her son, she didn't mention it. In fact, she barely acknowledged the clan leader, instead devoting her time to making sure her adventurous toddler didn't get into any trouble. Much to all the scientists' dismay, the child had learned to run before he could walk, therefore the attempts to baby-proof the whole place had been frantic and half-assed at best. But wherever Spider ran, Y/n was not too far behind him, always making a game of the chase and making the toddler laugh until his sides hurt.

From what Tsu'tey had learned, Spider is not Y/n's child by blood. The baby had been left behind when the Sky People left, too young for space travel. Everyone was positive that his biological mother was killed during the Battle of the Hallelujah Mountains, and as for his father... from vague descriptions, Tsu'tey had gathered who the man was and decided not to ask any further. Now, in replace of Spider's biological parents came Y/n. Even though the scientists were all more than happy to help raise the kid together as a village, Y/n had become his sole guardian, claiming that Spider should always have that one person to rely on before all others. She had gone on record stating that the boy needs a mother before a village and he shouldn't be treated as an object or a pet the Sky People pass around. No one questioned her, especially when shown how everything she does she does it for the boy and not for her own selfish needs. The scientists all proudly took the roles of aunts and uncles to the boy, but by all rights except blood, Y/n was Spider's mother. She fed and bathed the baby, clothed him, nurtured him, and sang songs to get him to sleep. Sure, she would let the other scientists help with Spider if she needed to take her avatar out for a drive, but she was determined to be Spider's family when no one had formally stepped up.

Even though he didn't realize it back then, Tsu'tey had come to greatly admire Y/n for her sacrifice and determination to raise a child all on her own. She didn't expect anyone to help and she took motherhood in stride. She acted as if she was always meant to be a mother and she had been waiting for this moment her whole life. After first meeting Spider, Tsu'tey wouldn't visit Hell's Gate for some time and didn't often think about the human child or his mother. It would be years before Tsu'tey is reacquainted with them, their paths crossing once more, and only because Spider was finally old enough to wear a mask.

PANDORA, 2163

Spider was nine years old when he first donned a breathing mask and ventured out into the vast world of Pandora, leaving the square walls of the biolab behind him. The scientists had made it into a whole celebration like it was his birthday, providing gifts of Na'vi-make and even a cake before he got too antsy and was ready to go outside. His mother was equally excited for him. Dawning her avatar, Y/n brought Spider outside after triple-checking that his mask was firmly in place. She first let the boy wander into the treeline a little bit to get the feeling of grass beneath his feet and let him try to climb the trees like the little spider monkey he was named after. He had struggled to climb the first couple of tries but managed to get the hang of it before Y/n took him on a ride aboard her ikran that she had tamed only a few years prior.

While Norm was able to gain a banshee not long after the war, Y/n had decided to wait out her training to become a Na'vi warrior due to raising a human child who couldn't go everywhere with her. Once Spider was old enough not to need his mother every minute of the day, she finally felt comfortable with occasionally leaving Hell's Gate and learning the ways of the Omatikaya. The start of her Iknimaya went smoothly due to the number of teachers she had, and eventually, she came home flying her very own ikran. Spider squealed and laughed from his bedroom window at the sight of the creature, already in love as if his mother had just brought a stray cat home. Y/n immediately sat her son down to gently let him know that an ikran is not a pet and demands respect and space. However, the ikran appeared more than happy to act like the family pet, curiously watching Spider from behind the window and resting right underneath said window whenever the creature wasn't out flying.

And when Spider was finally allowed to go outside, the boy and ikran finally got to officially meet. It was like watching a rescued animal find its forever home. Immediately cozying up and trusting the nine-year-old, the ikran allowed Spider to hug its whole face in his arms while jumping up and down happily. With excitement, Spider begged his mother to take him on a ride and finally, he got to learn what it was like to fly.

Y/n immediately flew Spider to the village so he can lay eyes on all the Na'vi for the first time. The People were happy to greet the child after hearing so many stories from his mother. The Omatikaya had grown to love Y/n and the other scientists as part of the People once they had begun to learn the Na'vi way and tame their own banshees, so when the Na'vi were finally introduced to Spider, it was like meeting the first grandbaby of the family! Everyone wanted to hold Spider due to the fascination of the fact he was still so small at his age, and the kid happily ate up all the attention. Through his excitement, he kept jumping between languages when speaking, but most of the Omatikaya were able to grasp the boy's words with ease and would respond in kind. Eventually, Y/n managed to bring her kid to the Sully marui without too many people resisting, and so Spider got to meet his best friends for the first time.

Jake and Neytiri excitedly welcomed Spider, hugging him and dragging him inside like he was a nephew who had been far away from home for far too long. Y/n followed them into the home, smiling fondly as Spider was introduced to Neteyam, Kiri, and Lo'ak. All three Sully kids were very bug-eyed and curious about this new friend. And for the first time since arriving in the village, Spider was suddenly shy with all the attention he was getting. He ran back to Y/n and hid behind her legs, nervously holding her tail while peeking at the kids behind his mask. The adults all laughed while the Sully kids continued to ask Spider questions until finally, he got comfortable enough to come out of hiding. Y/n and Spider stayed for dinner that evening after the kids begged their parents to let them stay so Spider could play. Once they got over poking and prodding Spider with interest, the two Na'vi boys and girl kept dragging him everywhere, frantically wanting to show him all their toys and favorite hiding spots, acting like he was leaving forever the moment he and Y/n would eventually step out of their home. The adults calmly remind the children that now that Spider is big enough to wear a mask, both he and Y/n would be coming back to the village as many times as they want, but that didn't convince the kids to slow down.

Tsu'tey was invited to dinner as well, but due to his responsibilities, he arrived late and could only stay for a little while. Y/n happily greeted him like an old friend -they had only met a few times over the years-, pressing her fingers to her forehead and lowering them in his direction, "Olo'eyktan. Oel ngati kameie."

Tsu'tey gestured in response out of respect but otherwise said nothing. Had he still been younger and just a warrior, Tsu'tey would've been able to help mentor Y/n during her Iknimaya trials. But due to being olo'eyktan now, he had to hand down those responsibilities to someone who had the time to do so, therefore his meetings with Y/n were far, and few in-between. As she was training, there were communal dinners where both parties were cordial to one another, entertaining small talk but otherwise keeping their respective distance. Y/n had become closer to Jake, Neytiri, and their growing family, therefore she and Tsu'tey saw each other more than usual but still in passing, like two ships in the night. Tsu'tey was like a teacher and an uncle to the Sully children, while Y/n was becoming to be a friend of the family. Now that Spider was in the picture, Tsu'tey had a feeling he had not seen the last of the mother and son.

If everyone thought Spider was shy meeting the Sully kids, they had not seen Spider meeting Tsu'tey. The boy immediately straightened his back and froze like a deer in headlights. Despite being shy and refusing to say a word, the human child looked at Tsu'tey in awe of him, recognizing his station as the clan leader of the Omatikaya. Y/n laughed and gathered her son up in her arms when he couldn't move, facing Tsu'tey so both Na'vi man and human child could get a better look at each other, "Spider, this is Tsu'tey te Rongloa Ateyo'itan. You've met before, but you were too little to remember. He is olo'eyktan. Do you remember what we say when greeting someone new?"

Under Tsu'tey's stare, Spider's hand shook as he brought his tiny fingers to the top brim of his breathing mask before lowering it in the Na'vi man's direction, speaking just above a whisper, "O-- Oel ngati kameie..."

The marui is silent and the boy waits with bated breath. To Spider's credit and everyone's amazement, Tsu'tey thinly smiled and made the same hand movement back to the child, "You speak very good, taronyutsyìp. Your mother and other caretakers have taught you well."

Spider's frozen shock had broken in exchange for a large, beaming wide smile, staring at Tsu'tey as if the man had just handed him the world. Y/n smiled at her adorable son's reaction and gratefully nodded to Tsu'tey before the moment was broken by none other than Jake's teasing, "How come you weren't complimenting me when I was learning, brother?"

"Because you were a teylupil prrnen who had to hold Neytiri's hand every step of the way," Tsu'tey was quick to respond but made sure to only speak in a hushed voice which only the adults could hear.

Neytiri playfully scolded Tsu'tey for his language and shoved a small niktsyey into his hands before he could leave, all the children confused as to why both Jake and Y/n were laughing to the point they had missed Tsu'tey sneaking out of the pod.

~~~~~~~~~

That was indeed, not the last time Tsu'tey would see Y/n and Spider. The next time they visited the village was a week later, and Tsu'tey wasn't even aware of their presence until his evening tasks were disrupted by a small force running into his legs and hugging them tightly. Startled into looking down, Tsu'tey found Little Spider, not even standing up to the height of the chief's knees, clinging to his strong blue legs for dear life while beaming up at him through his mask. Spider laughed due to Tsu'tey's reaction and paid no mind to his mother when she finally arrived. Tsu'tey didn't even notice Y/n until she stood in front of him, looking guilty and apologetic.

"Forgive me, ma olo'eyktan. He didn't want to go home until he got to see you."

Her ears pinned back against her head, tail drooping as she stared anxiously at the usually fierce and stone-faced clan leader. She looked tired, likely from a long day of following her child everywhere while he went on these new, exciting adventures around the village and surrounding forest. Y/n had volunteered to take Spider and the Sully kids to the nearby river so they could play and let off some steam. Jake and Neytiri had gratefully accepted the offer, ready to have some time away from their children for the first time in years. One look at the female avatar and Tsu'tey could tell just how drained she had been from watching all four children who barely grasp the idea of being 'careful.'

Years later, Tsu'tey will not be able to recall what came over him, but in a split-second decision, he bent down and scooped the little human boy into his arms, much to Spider's delight who squealed and laughed happily. To no one's surprise, the pink-skinned child was lighter than a basket of banana fruit and didn't struggle when Tsu'tey lifted him up over his head until the boy was sitting on his strong, broad shoulders. Spider dutifully grabbed onto Tsu'tey's braids to stay upright, eyes widening in joy and wonderment as he looked around, seeing the world from a new height that Spider could only dream of.

Tsu'tey made no sound to acknowledge his decision, despite already clocking a few bystanders who had stopped to stare at their olo'eyktan in shock before he turned to Y/n, speaking as blunt and firm as always, "He has seen me. Now let's get him to your ikran."

Initially surprised, Y/n could only nod and obediently led the Na'vi man in the direction of the claimed ikran rookery. They walked in silence apart from Spider's ramblings, beaming and waving down at all the Na'vi they passed by. Tsu'tey stubbornly ignores the stares, keeping his head held high and his gaze ahead of him, still exuding the confident, proud walk of a chief without ever acknowledging the sky demon child sitting up on his shoulders. Spider wasn't bothered by his silence, still babbling about all the things he did today and excitedly exclaiming how he couldn't wait until next time. They finally walk up to Y/n's ikran and without a word, she formed tsaheylu and expertly hopped up into her saddle, bending down to accept Spider from Tsu'tey once the man plucked the kid from his shoulders. Taking this time to admire the handiwork Y/n put into making her ikran's saddle as she secured her son in front of her, Tsu'tey nearly made a fool of himself by staring and immediately shook out of his thoughts.

"Now, boy," Tus'tey spoke carefully, lowering his voice so as not to startle the child as he stepped away from the banshee, eyeing Spider with a stern expression, "Be good for your sa'nok the rest of the night. Do not give her trouble and do as your told."

"Yes, sir!" Spider puffed out his chest and dutifully nodded, excited to follow an order straight from the Omatikaya's olo'eyktan.

Y/n huffed in amusement before flashing Tsu'tey a small smile of gratitude, "Thank you, Tsu'tey."

"Get some rest, my friend," Tsu'tey firmly nods back, "That's an order."

To his internal surprise, Y/n laughs, and even though he was confused, Spider laughed with her. Tsu'tey didn't react to their laughter, every muscle in his face coming together to keep as firm and as serious as he could manage. He wasn't sure when was the last time a woman laughed at something he said. Normally, no one laughed at Tsu'tey, believing he was too serious and he was taken as seriously as one could manage. It wasn't as though he was trying to be funny, but it was like Y/n could see something behind his eyes that told her that at this very moment, she didn't have to treat him as the clan leader. Perhaps it was the way he called her 'friend' that made her realize that she didn't have to be so formal around him. Either way, he didn't plan on correcting her manners.

Tsu'tey couldn't remember when they eventually flew away, back to Hell's Gate. He could only remember standing there like an idiot even after the mother and son were out of sight, their gentle, sweet laughter still echoing in his ears.

~~~~~~~~~

It became a sort of tradition. After a long day of being in the village, Spider would always escape his mother and run to Tsu'tey every time she told her son it was time to go home. After the first three times he did this, both Tsu'tey and Y/n just silently agreed to go along with it and indulge the child in his little tradition. Every evening Y/n and Spider were visiting the clan, the olo'eyktan could count on the young boy to find him like clockwork, then Tsu'tey will, again, lift Spider up onto his shoulders and follow Y/n back to her ikran.

Tsu'tey noticed that the mother and child were visiting the village more and more and he chalked it up to be because Neytiri had just announced that she was pregnant again. Everyone was ecstatic, especially the children. Knowing that a new baby was on the way, Spider could be spotted around the Sully marui almost every single day. The kid was in awe at the idea of meeting someone who was finally going to be smaller than him, at least for a little while. He also fully ramped the other Sully kids up, getting them to be excited for another little sibling, especially Lo'ak, who was ready to finally be a big brother instead of the youngest.

As tradition goes, the People would gift the expecting parents food and necessities in preparation for the unborn child. It was a good way to help Jake and Neytiri focus on their growing family and pay more attention to their three children instead of worrying about getting much-needed supplies ready for the baby. After Y/n explained this tradition to her son, Spider was determined to also present a gift to Jake and Neytiri, and who else could possibly help him with that but none other than Tsu'tey?

The olo'eyktan helps the boy, despite the nagging voice in the back of his head, and tries his best to help when he has the time. If Tsu'tey is not making his usual errands, he can be found with the human boy who practically drags him through the forest, looking for appropriate items to gift the Sullys. Y/n usually goes with them, never too far from her son, therefore she finds herself in Tsu'tey's company more than she ever has in all the years she's known him. And he doesn't appear bothered by it. In fact, he inwardly looks forward to these small adventures, feeling like a young warrior again who could freely leave the village without too many responsibilities weighing down his shoulders. Either Spider blindly takes the two adults through the trees without any idea of where he was heading, or he lets Tsu'tey take the lead, always excited for where the chief will take them now. The three of them do this for an entire week until Spider presents Neytiri with a beautiful bracelet with six, various different colors of beads to represent how many people will soon be in her family. Neytiri's smile was like starlight, so wide and emotional as she pulls the small boy into her arms, kissing the glass of his mask as tears stream down her cheeks. After Spider asks her why she was crying, she was quick to reassure him that they were happy tears and tells him how much she loved his gift, all the while Tsu'tey and Y/n are standing off to the side, fondly watching this scene take place.

It was an eye-opening moment for the usually fierce, stone-faced olo'eyktan. He had been standing so close to Y/n, closer than he had ever allowed himself to be with anyone, while they both watched Spider beam up at Neytiri and happily ramble about his adventures while finding the perfect beads for his bracelet. As the child explained that Tsu'tey and Y/n always went with him, even Neytiri looked surprised, glancing up at the two other adults with her ears flicking with interest. Tsu'tey swallowed and stood firm, trying not to appear nervous under the Na'vi woman's gaze.

Neither Spider nor Y/n noticed this brief interaction as the boy finally turns back to his mother and the olo'eyktan, remembering their presence and running toward them, cheering, "She liked it! She liked it!"

"I can see that," Y/n smiled, giggling as she bent down to receive Spider, picking him up in her arms without a sweat. Normally, it's a struggle in her human body to lift him up as he continues to grow, but as an avatar, it's like holding a three-year-old again. Oh, how she missed those days.

Still in Y/n's arms, Spider reaches for Tsu'tey, making grabby hands at the man who stood close enough for the boy to touch him. Tsu'tey nearly froze under the boy's attention, his own tongue betraying him when he couldn't find anything to say. It was too domestic, watching the way Spider looked for approval from both Y/n and Tsu'tey. Watching as both Spider's and Y/n's eyes land on him nearly takes his breath away, as if seeing the pair of them through rose-tinted glasses for the first time. And while standing so close, Tsu'tey can almost pretend, just for a moment, that Spider was not just any child, but his, the child wanting to share the events of his day as he had run to both Tsu'tey and his mother like they came as a pair, not just one or the other.

This was the first time Tsu'tey ever realized the gift Eywa was offering to him, but at the time was too cowardly to accept it. Taking one last look at the way Spider leaned his soft pink head on Y/n's blue shoulder, Tsu'tey looked away, purposely engraving the sight of those two small brown and gold pairs of eyes staring questionably up at him.

Even though there was no need to go out into the forest anymore, Tsu'tey still insisted on taking the mother and son out on adventures under the guise that it was time Spider learned how to gather and forage. Tsu'tey firmly stated that the boy needed to recognize certain plants before he could ever learn to become a hunter. Spider perked up at this idea, cheering and running to Neteyam, Kiri, and Lo'ak to brag about his upcoming lessons. Y/n appeared hesitant at first -call it a mother's concern- but eventually accepted the idea, happily tagging along so she could witness her son's first lesson.

One lesson became two, then three, then four, five, and six. Eventually, Tsu'tey had lost count of the number of days he had squeezed in time to teach Spider the ways of the Na'vi. It had been weeks, easily, and he had no intention of stopping. He was exhausted between his usual duties and his newly acquired student, but Tsu'tey would only have to look as far as Spider and Y/n's smiles to think it was all worth it.

Before he knew it, Y/n had fully completed her Iknimaya. After surviving the Uniltaron, she was painted and born a second time as one of the People. The whole clan was happy for her, and even Tsu'tey bore a small but genuine smile as he stood before her as her olo'eyktan and welcomed her into the Omatikaya clan, placing his arms on her shoulders as everyone else followed suit, creating an overflowing circle of Na'vi all around her.

With Y/n being recognized as a member of the clan, Tsu'tey feels a small barrier break between them. Something unspoken had come to light and before he could argue with himself, Tsu'tey had done something he hadn't done in a while.

His carving skills needed improvement after so many years of nonuse, but it was still a talent he possessed. The next time he spotted Y/n and Spider in the village, he boldly approached them without a second thought. Spider saw him first and excitedly ran to Tsu'tey, hugging his legs until the olo'eyktan crouched down to his height. Y/n walked up to them just as Tsu'tey held out his hand to the boy, "For you, Spider."

Spider greedily held out both of his hands with wide, bewildered eyes just as Tsu'tey handed him a simple but perfectly carved wooden pa'li toy. Spider initially stood there, shocked, staring down at the toy while Tsu'tey began to shuffle uncomfortably on his heels, "I understand if you think you are too big for toys--"

His backtracking was quickly interrupted by Spider lunging at him, throwing his little arms around the man's neck before practically squeezing the air out of him. Tsu'tey let out a gust of wind at the impact, unaware that the kid had that much strength in such a small body. It took a moment, but eventually, Tsu'tey began to awkwardly pat the boy on the back while Spider continued to hug fiercely.

Y/n was biting the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling and was failing miserably, the smile stretching far enough to make her facial muscles hurt. Tsu'tey bravely peered up at her and offered his best, closed-mouth smirk, despite still awkwardly holding the child in his arms. Y/n took a deep breath and was able to rein in the smile until it was small and gentle, clearing her throat to get her son's attention, "What do you say, Spider?"

"Thank you. Irayo, " Spider whispered into Tsu'tey's ear before finally pulling away, clutching the pa'li toy in one hand while his mother took the other. Slowly, they both walk away but would occasionally look back at Tsu'tey with those sweet, dazzling smiles that make Tsu'tey feel as though he had just lifted a mountain that was in the mother and son's path. After they disappeared into the crowd, he finally stood back up, stubbornly ignoring all the stares the scene no doubt caused before going about his day as normally as he could.

Once almost every week, Tsu'tey would have something new to offer Spider. It could be a toy, small bracelets, armbands, or even Na'vi child-sized clothes, Tsu'tey would make them all for the small human child. Spider's personal favorite was the small bow, already strung up and carved to his tiny size with equally small, harmless arrows. Over time, Spider was becoming more accustomed to Na'vi culture and started to wear his hair in beads and braids and continuously wore a loincloth. The Sully kids were eager to help Spider form his new style but it wasn't hard to get the supplies, seeing as though Tsu'tey had already provided Spider with everything he needed to complete the look. Each gift was more thoughtful and appreciative than the last, and each time, seeing the look on both mother and child's faces made Tsu'tey feel a thousand times lighter.

He thought he was being subtle, but that was far from the truth. Nearly everyone could see it apart from himself. He knew he had been a fool to believe otherwise when he was abruptly visited by his parents, cornering him in his own marui.

"What is this about you courting a demon?" His mother, Artsut, sternly asked.

"I am not courting anyone." He easily answered without hesitation.

"That is not what we heard. The People say their olo'eyktan has taken a liking to the dreamwalker they call Y/n and her demon child."

"Is that truly what the People say, Mother? Or is it just you?" Tsu'tey accused, eyes narrowed on her, "From what I have seen, the People love Y/n and Spider."

"Spider?" His father, Ateyo, repeated the name on his tongue and screwed up his nose, "What a strange name."

"This is not acceptable," Artsut shook her head, "You should have taken Saeyla as your mate when you had the chance. At least she is one of the People and she would have accepted you."

Tsu'tey nodded in agreement, but kept his face impassive, "Yes. She would have. But I will not have her and she will not have me. She is mated with Ka'ani now."

"You should have chosen her the moment Neytiri ran off to mate with a tawtute."

His eyes darken a shade of color and his parents are quickly reminded that they spoke to the olo'eyktan, one of said tawtute's strongest allies who was quick to defend Jake Sully after years of friendship, "You will not address Toruk Makto in such a way. And I do not want you to ever speak of Y/n as if she is not Omatikaya. She has learned our ways and had successfully completed her Iknimaya. In time, her son will follow her footsteps."

The sneer on his mother's face was potent as ever, "Do you actually believe that a sky demon can complete the task of becoming a warrior when he doesn't even have a tswin? Even if he were to be accepted as one of the People, he will struggle all his life and suffer without the means of bonding with the Forest, the animals, or even other Na'vi! You are olo'eyktan and your duty to the People also involves having heirs to succeed you! Raising this human child alongside this dreamwalker will end your line!"

Her voice had only ever risen higher until his father gently placed a withered hand on her shoulder. Artsut immediately silences herself while Ateyo turns to Tsu'tey, "Maitan. Tell us the truth. Are you courting this woman?"

Tsu'tey grits his teeth, staring both of them down, "I am not."

The words are bitter on his tongue, distasteful. What he would give to say otherwise and make his parents flinch as if in pain. His mother shook her head, her tone quieter but still accusatory, "Others have seen you gift the child many things. Do you think we are blind and deaf? We hear whispers, Tsu'tey. We hear that to win Y/n's heart is to dote on her son. You may not be courting the woman with gifts for her, but you are courting her with gifts for her son."

The marui grew in unpalpable silence. Tsu'tey remained quiet, unable to deny it, but kept his gaze sharp and locked onto Ateyo and Artsut. Ever since he became Eytukan's heir as olo'eyktan, he had learned to stop listening to his parents constantly whispering in his ears. He had quickly realized how poisonous they were, hungry for power, believing they know the will of Eywa better than anyone, even Mo'at. He had thought he had fed their thirst for power after becoming olo'eyktan, but that still wasn't good enough for them. For years now, they have shaped Tsu'tey's younger brother, Arvok, into their preferred image now that their golden son had chosen his own path without their consent. Tsu'tey wished his brother had learned to stop leading by their influence and start forming his own future, but has been unable to advise Arvok to do so, given how busy he is as the clan leader. On top of growing up in Tsu'tey's shadow until recent years, Arvok has no part of himself that their parents didn't twist and manipulate. Arvok was no longer his own person and it broke Tsu'tey's heart to watch from a distance, unable to save his brother from himself.

A wave of guilt washes over Tsu'tey but he strongly holds firm, blatantly refusing to let his emotions show, let alone in front of his sa'sem. He regrets not taking Arvok under his wing. He regrets taking time to be with Y/n and Spider and none to be with his own flesh and blood. Perhaps a small part of himself believed he could help his brother if he could help someone as hopeless as Spider, someone who couldn't truly become one of the People, just like his parents said--

'No. That is not you talking. Already they are trying to spin their words to make it sound like your own. Do not let them poison you.'

His own thoughts drown out all the doubt and regret and so Tsu'tey shakes his head to be rid of them with a deep, dark snarl, baring his fangs at his mother and father, "You forget yourselves. You forget your place. You are right about one thing. I am olo'eyktan, and I don't take orders from you. I will never listen to you or agree with you because every word that falls from your mouth is like a sharp blade in my ears. Your ways are of the past when I, your chief, aim toward the future. By the laws of our people, Y/n is taronyu, and Spider is her son. That is enough for me, and I order you to keep whatever you have to say about that woman and her child to yourselves from now on."

~~~~~~~~~

Despite holding firm against Ateyo and Artsut, Tsu'tey couldn't help but feel sour for the rest of the week about what was said in the confinements of that room. Their lecture plus Eytukan's teachings continued to ring in his ears, unable to let him rest. They were right that as olo'eyktan, it was his duty to find a proper heir to take his place and guide the People after he is gone. He could sire an heir or choose one from the clan, but he must choose wisely, nevertheless.

For years, Tsu'tey never worried about heirs. He was openly adamant in wishing Jake Sully to take his place should something untimely happen to him. Toruk Makto had sons and a daughter with possibly another on the way. At the very least, Jake's line of succession was secure if he was olo'eyktan.

But Tsu'tey was alone.

It didn't help that as olo'eyktan, he was still in need of a mate who would one day become tsahik. Mo'at has made it very clear to him, "I am not getting any younger. I will need at least three seasons to train a woman before she can become tsahik."

Neytiri was no longer tsakarem due to choosing Jake as her mate, and while Kiri was a good option for Mo'at to take under her wing, the young girl was still too young to worry about such responsibility. Tsu'tey was positive that Mo'at would rather have her granddaughter become tsahik over whoever he chose as a mate, but he was positive it was due to favoritism. Mo'at would rather teach family over a stranger, and Tsu'tey couldn't blame her for that. Her own legacy was shattered due to losing her first daughter and becoming estranged from the other, neither of who was capable of becoming tsahik like their mother one day.

The harsh reminder of Sylwanin made Tsu'tey's stomach clench with guilt and despair. He had moved past her death years ago, but at the idea of him finally moving on, the phantom pain returned to make him feel regret all over again.

She was meant to be his mate for life, and this all felt as though he was betraying her.

Tsu'tey let his feet take them to a destination, and they end up leading him to the Sully marui. Inside, Neytiri was alone since Jake decided to take the kids fishing with Spider and Y/n, her baby bump becoming more visible by the day. Looking up and recognizing Tsu'tey, she only held his gaze with a smug, all-knowing expression.

He scowled while walking further into the home, sitting across from her, "I assume you heard the rumors."

She shrugged, smirking, "I think everyone has heard or seen something or other. The question is whether or not it's true."

The man hesitates, unable to form the proper words he wanted to say. Here sat his young love's sister, someone who would know better than anyone how he feels because she suffers the same pain and loss every day. And yet... like Sylwanin, he felt as though he was betraying Neytiri as well, "I... I don't know."

Her gaze narrows at him, surprised and under scrutiny, "You don't know?"

"I thought I did," Tsu'tey confessed, his eyes only gazing at the small fire between them, "I was ready to take and bring both of them into my care."

"Then what's stopping you?" She carefully watches him as they sat in silence, letting it linger and simmer like the meat she had just hung over the fire. When Tsu'tey had yet to look up, Neytiri had discovered the answer on her own, "Sylwanin?"

Solemnly, he nods, "We were promised to each other. It is a promise meant forever."

Her posture relaxes, relenting whatever tease she planned on dishing him out in exchange for pity. Her words were gentle as she spoke, forlorn and sympathetic, "You were not mated yet, Tsu'tey, and it was many, many years ago. You are allowed to grieve, mourn, and miss my sister. But I think she would understand if you had fallen for someone else."

Leaning forward to the best of her ability in her condition, she reaches and grabs tightly onto Tsu'tey's hand. Finally, once his eyes met hers, Neytiri whispered, "She wouldn't want you to be alone forever."

She lets him think about what she said, turning back to the food she was preparing in silence. Neytiri lets Tsu'tey hide away in her home, stewing with his thoughts as the village moves on about their day around them. Before eclipse could even make an appearance, Jake and Y/n return with the children from their fishing trip. Looking up, both Neytiri and Tsu'tey take note of how exhausted all the kids look, especially Spider, who was passed out cold in Jake's arms alongside Kiri.

Jake smiles at his wife before turning to Tsu'tey to properly greet him, "Brother. I'd offer you my arm, but I kinda got my hands full."

"So I see," Tsu'tey huffed, slightly amused at the sight before his gaze flicks over to the woman standing beside Jake, "And how are you, Y/n?"

She appeared startled at the question being directed at her, but quickly covered it up with a soft smile, nodding down to Tsu'tey, "I'm alright, ma olo'eyktan. Thank you."

Neytiri smirked, sparing one glance up at her husband before pretending to absentmindedly hum in thought, "Perhaps if you leave us Spider's spare mask, Y/n, you could leave him here for tonight and have at least a few hours to yourself?"

Both Neteyam and Lo'ak are suddenly wide awake, ears perking up at the mother's intention. Y/n paused, about to open her mouth when Jake beat her to it, "That's not a bad idea. He's already asleep and there isn't a reason to wake him," the female avatar turned to the male one, who's quick to reassure her, "I promise he'll be in good hands. And the kids would love to wake up in the morning to find Spider still here."

Again, the concern Y/n displayed on her face was about to voice her answer before Neteyam spoke up, keeping his voice sweet and soft, "Please, Aunt Y/n? Can Spider stay here tonight?"

Lo'ak chimed in, too, albiet a bit louder, "Can we have a sleepover? Pleeeaase?"

All the adults present quickly shushed the young boy when Kiri and Spider squirmed in their sleep but everyone relaxed when the sleeping children eventually settled back down. Jake moves further into the marui to gently place them down on the mats while Y/n turned around only to be met with two round pairs of pleading gold eyes staring up at her, both Neteyam and Lo'ak poking their bottom lips out for added measure.

Y/n snorts, playfully rolling her eyes, "Well, who could say 'no' to those charming little faces?"

Both the boys silently cheer and run in the direction of the other two sleeping children, anxious to join the growing cuddle pile. Y/n watches them go with amusement before she hands Neytiri the spare mask she always kept hooked around the belt of her cargo shorts, "I'll be back for him early in the morning."

"No need to rush," Neytiri smiled with assurance, "Just stop by for breakfast and you can take him home after."

Jake then proceeds to hand the single mother a throat mic and earpiece, "Just in case we need to contact you or you just wanna talk to him."

Y/n visibly relaxed a little at the lengths both Jake and Neytiri were going just to make her feel comfortable leaving her son with them. She dutifully nods and clips on the throat mic as Tsu'tey stands to meet her, the olo'eyktan tilting his head to the marui exit, "Let's get you to your ikran."

If she found his offer unexpected, she didn't show it and followed Tsu'tey out of the marui, unaware of the knowing look Neytiri was watching them leave with. Once they disappeared, Jake turned to his mate with a confused expression, "What was that about?"

Neytiri's eyes shine with a mischievous gleam behind those golden orbs, "With any luck, by the end of the night, Spider will officially have a father and we will have our future tsahik."

~~~~~~~~~

Tsu'tey and Y/n mostly walked in silence back to her ikran, the beauty of the night slowly making itself known as eclipse finally arrives. Over the years, Y/n was used to how intense and silent Tsu'tey could be and no longer found these quiet interactions awkward. If anything, the silence was actually comforting.

They approach her ikran and Y/n busies herself by tending to the banshee, comforting the creature when it squawks indignant and trying to look occupied to calm her own nerves. It was possible her ikran could sense said nerves and continued to act belligerent. Eventually, Y/n turned back to the olo'eyktan and nods in gratitude, "Thank you, Tsu'tey. I'll be back again in the morning."

He only nods and so Y/n took it as a sign to take her leave as the silence lingers. Double-checking the straps of her ikran's harness, she swung her leg over the creature and grabbed her queue braid--

"Y/n..."

She looked up, "Yes?"

Concern clouded her mind as Tsu'tey's eyes briefly look away, unable to meet her gaze. His ears flick at the same speed as his eyes, betraying him of his nerves as he spoke, "Do you wish to be courted?"

Befuddled, her eyes narrow cautiously, tilting her head with curiosity. Perhaps she heard him wrong, "What?"

He took a deep breath to steady himself, straightening up to be the taller more regal olo'eyktan she had come to know him. His voice is suddenly more confident and formal as he finally looks up at her, "It would be a great honor, Y/n of the Sky People and of the Omatikaya, if you would allow me to officially court you."

Y/n could initially do nothing but sit there on the back of her ikran, frozen and dumbfounded. The silence that was once so normal and comfortable between them was now intense and tightly wound like a meresh'ti cau'pla. As the avatar woman replayed his words back in her head, she couldn't depict anything else from the proposal other than one singular word, "'Officially?'"

Tsu'tey nods while further explaining, "It was not my intention to let you believe I was only tending to your boy in the hopes of courting you, nor do I wish for you to believe that I expect something from you in exchange for training your son. Spider is a spirited child and he is lucky to have a wonderful woman for his mother. You and your son have shown me what it would look like to be a part of your family and now that I have a taste of it, I want to know more. I wish to court you not just in the hopes of being your mate, but one day-- if you and the boy will have me, I want Spider to one day look up to me as his father."

The confession was something Y/n wouldn't have expected in a million years. It wasn't as though she believed Tsu'tey to be too proud, but as the clan leader he had a reputation to uphold and a responsibility regarding the wellbeing of his people. Immediately her thoughts turned to what other Na'vi might think about their olo'eyktan taking a sky demon as his mate, someone who can walk in two bodies instead of one, an alien whose species would do unspeakable things to cheat death and go against everything Eywa stood for. She never took herself to be an insecure person, but Y/n couldn't help the fear she felt when thinking about what the Na'vi people might think about her son if she decides to allow Tsu'tey to adopt him. Sure, the Omatikaya act as though they love Spider now, but what about when they learn that their olo'eyktan's legacy depends on a boy born from the Sky People?

Despite her fears, she couldn't help but think about how much happier Spider has been around Tsu'tey and the village. Y/n thought about how the boy would suddenly become sad upon returning to the biolab and leaving his friends behind, or how when he adamantly talked, it was only about the Na'vi and the Sully kids and of course whatever Tsu'tey had taught him that day. Though Y/n and the other scientists have tried to teach Spider the ways of the Sky People with the proper education and history of their culture, the kid doesn't want anything to do with Earth and tends to stick with whatever he had learned from the Omatikaya. Over time, Y/n had told the other scientists to give it up, coming to terms that Spider didn't want to learn about where he came from, only about the home he had now and the friends he had gained. Y/n couldn't blame him. Tsu'tey was a better teacher than even Max or Norm when it came to the topics Spider wanted to actually learn about. Tsu'tey was patient but firm. Informative but vigor. On one hand, he would make sure Spider listened and held onto every word he said, but on the other, he was a good listener and would praise Spider for every achievement made in his lessons. Y/n remembered watching them with fondness, amused and delighted by their interactions. As often as she sees her son and the olo'eyktan together, the more she, too wished to see what would happen if she allowed herself to feel something for that man. The man who opened his arms out to selected Sky People, allowing them into his village. The man who took Spider under his wing despite the fact the boy was human and treated him with kindness and respect even though he didn't have to. Tsu'tey has every reason to hate the Sky People and the face Spider wears, but he doesn't, and what Y/n initially thought she felt was admiration for Tsu'tey was actually a growing love for him and his character.

But she had stamped down her feelings because she was afraid of getting Spider's hopes up. She couldn't afford to disappoint her son when he already adores Tsu'tey to no end. When Y/n opened her mouth, she whispered her own confession to the olo'eyktan anxiously waiting for an answer, "... He already does."

She watches as his eyes widen before she made the decision to hop back down from her banshee, closing in the gap between them as she took the necessary steps to stand right before Tsu'tey. She watched his eyes for a moment, looking for something, likely making sure he wasn't joking despite knowing he was the last person on this planet who would. She hadn't realized they were standing so close until she felt the warm air of his breath softly fanning her face, causing her to blink rapidly and clear her throat when her skin began to prickle into a soft blush. Ignoring her brief fluster, she allowed herself to slowly, cautiously lean forward and felt relief when Tsu'tey did as well. Their foreheads faintly touch until their movements became bolder, pressing closer until they were sharing the same tight space and combating the tense air between them. Leaning into him further, Y/n closed her eyes and basked in his embrace, "You really want this?"

His shaky exhale hits her face, her eyelashes briefly twitching but otherwise remaining closed as if afraid to open and see his expression. Tsu'tey's voice was less confident now and more breathless, unable to take in a full gulp of air in this woman's presence. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the closeness, even if only for tonight, he didn't care if it was selfish. He gently gripped her arm as he whispered, wanting to pull her even closer to him than possible, "Yes. By Eywa, yes."

Her lips twitched into a smile at the same time her heart lept in joy, "I accept your proposal."

Faintly patting his chest, she then pulled away, both of them opening their eyes and smiling shyly at one another. Y/n blindly backs away to reach her ikran, unwilling to look away until the last second, "I'll see you in the morning."

~~~~~~~~~

Also heavily inspired by illustrations called ‘our paths crossing’ by kening zhu

Lemme know if you would like a Part 2! I was hoping to write more for this but it was starting to get long, so you decide if it should continue! Also leave a request in my inbox but be sure to check up on the rules first. Thank you!

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