#I feel like my ancestors are looking over my shoulder going

[fallenoftheromaempire]

I MADE A FREAKING LOOM AND I'M WEAVING

[drunk-person]

Healing Kisses

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Summary: After an injury on a normal day of training, Aemond Targaryen has difficulty understanding what it feels like to be cared for by his sweet wife, mainly because he is not used to receiving healing kisses.

WARNING: +18. Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and and a little bit of hot, Aemond trying to understand feelings, a bit of blood, basically a lot of softness, no description for the reader.

Word cont: 2.600 k

Author's note: Ok, I was minding my own business and this story just slipped my mind and ended up on my phone. I hope you guys like our guy trying to understand what love is hahaha 💕💕💕.

It had been about two months since Lady Y/n had gotten married, to Prince Aemond Targaryen. From the first day she saw him, she found him a disturbing man, with his silver hair, the black eye patch over one eye, the marked jaw that looked like it could cut the tips of her fragile fingers. He always seemed to be watching everything going on around him with trained eyes that she swore could see right through her.

Y/n's mother had prepared her her entire life for marriage, but not for a marriage with Aemond. Nothing was as she expected, since her husband seemed to have his own way of doing things, always silent and taciturn, just muttering from time to time, and most of the time she couldn't even decipher what he was saying, she didn't even know if he was speaking the same language as her at times.

The most unexpected thing of all, considering how reserved he normally behaved, was the fact that he liked to touch her when they were together in the martial chambers. Y/n felt her skin boiling every night with every touch he directed at her, sometimes harder, sometimes softer, but always firmly squeezing her waist, hips and breasts. Always doing things to her that Lady Y/n had not thought possible until marriage, and that just the mere thought of it made her blush and feel her skin heat up. The way he lay against her back after having poured himself inside her to the last drop and kept squeezing her breasts in a languid and soft way made her shiver.

But Y/n wasn't satisfied. She couldn't accept the fact that her Husband had such passionate touches for her at night, but didn't let her get close to him during the day, either physically or emotionally. Y/n respected him in that regard, aiming for nothing more than to be a good and obedient wife, but she wouldn't give up so easily. And with this in mind, she began to try to include herself in Aemond's daily activities and personal tastes.

Reading about the history of his ancestors, observing his favorite foods, sewing his clothes personally and even reading an old book she found in the library written by a maester who promised to teach Valyrian to even the most obtuse person. Which only made her feel even more foolish since she didn't understand a thing.

One of the best parts of trying to include herself in her husband's daily routine was watching his daily training, she usually did it in the morning after breakfast and even after a whole month watching him fight she still hadn't gotten used to the fact that he was so good, the sword seemed like an extension of his own arm and she had to restrain herself from sighing a few times while admiring him.

Until one particularly boring afternoon she decided to go down to the courtyard, since the library was very stuffy and she heard a maid saying that Aemond was fighting with Sir Criston Cole. As soon as she arrived, she leaned on the windowsill along with some other ladies, smiling as she watched her husband a little below, but the smile died on her lips a few minutes later when Aemond didn't dodge fast enough and Cole's blade wounded him in the left shoulder, drawing blood and staining the knight's sword.

Y/n's eyes widened when she saw her husband's blood and she felt her stomach churn. Aemond put his hand to his wounded shoulder and frowned, then returned to the fight furiously, disarming Cole, who apologized to the prince, but said that it wouldn't have happened if he had kept his guard up and focused.

Aemond just put away his own sword and walked with long strides into the Keep. Y/n could barely see what was in front of her, she just walked towards her husband with her eyes burning with concern.

-Husband! - She tried to reach him, but Aemond was walking too fast towards his own chambers. - Husband, please wait! Your arm is injured, you need to go see a maester!

Aemond entered the chambers, leaving the door open as he passed, as his wife followed closely behind.

-It was just a scratch, wife. - Aemond stated as she looked at him with tears in her eyes. - I'm going to be fine, it doesn't even hurt.

-Husband, if you're not going to let the maester look at this wound, at least let me take care of you! - She begged in a very worried voice, approaching him.

And with a snort, valuing his peace of mind, Aemond removed his doublet and undershirt, which had bloodstains at the site of the wound.

-By the gods, husband! - Y/n's eyes widened when she saw his shoulder. - How can you tell me this is just a scratch?

-Sit down here! - She pushed him down onto the chair with a very stern voice, and Aemond frowned - she had never used such a tone with him, always gentle and submissive to his wishes. - Don't move, I'll get hot water and an herbal ointment.

A little while later she returned with a basin full of water and a tray filled with things that a maid had brought. And Aemond watched with a very serious frown as she leaned over him with a clean, damp cloth, cleaning the coagulated blood with a very concentrated look on her face.

He barely realized that she had spoken to him, completely lost in what was happening.

- Husband? - She called him a little closer, stopping to clean the wound.

- Mmmm? - Aemond looked at her slightly confused when he finally realized that she was talking to him.

-I asked him if by chance it hurts. - She smiled, now using her usual sweet and gentle voice and Aemond didn't know why his belly warmed, but not with the excitement that had become so common in the last two months whenever he was near his wife, but with an unknown feeling.

- No. - He shook his head slowly as he answered. - I don't feel anything.

Nothing but a tingling where her warm and soft hand rested.

- Are you sure, husband? - Her look was doubtful as she frowned, Aemond just nodded and she continued her work. As soon as she finished cleaning the area, she left a few soft kisses on the wound and Aemond felt that a rope had pulled him through his navel at that moment.

-W-What are you doing? - He ended up stuttering unintentionally as he formed the sentence, feeling the skin where his wife was touching him warm as if she had touched him with a hot coal.

-Healing kisses. - She murmured simply against his heated and slightly reddened skin. - To help you heal faster.

Aemond frowned with his eyes slightly pressed together, enjoying that unfamiliar sensation in a strange way.

-And do they work? - He asked as if he suddenly had no control over his own tongue and felt very stupid for it as soon as he spoke.

-I believe so. - She smiled at him, leaving one last kiss at the end of the open wound, and Aemond felt less stupid for some reason after that.

-I'm going to apply the herbal ointment, okay? - She walked to the table, picking up one of the clay pots with a greenish, pasty mixture inside. - The maester said it should burn.

With a delicacy that Aemond had never felt in his entire life, she deposited the ointment on the open wound and gradually spread it with her fingertips, showing a look of implacable concentration on her face as if this were something of extreme importance.

Aemond hated wandering hands on him, hated receiving treatment from the maesters with their rough and hard touches, but with his wife it was different, the touches were so sweet and gentle that they were making him drowsy. And when she left more kisses after finishing applying the green ointment he thought that his mind had left his body and gone to another dimension.

-Mmmm.

-I hurt you? - She sounded very worried as she brought her right hand to the side of his face.

-Not at all. - He practically sighed, laying his head against her hand, and Y/n felt her heart warm when she had that reaction of familiarity from him.

-You need to take a bath, husband. - She stroked his cheek with her thumb, enjoying the moment where she was allowed to, smiling sweetly at him. - And after that I move on to another herb that the maester sent.

Aemond agreed, just nodding positively, feeling his whole body as if it were pleasantly numb as he walked towards the bathtub full of warm water on the other side of the rooms. And making him feel even lighter Y/n untied the front of his pants, blushing slightly as she helped him get completely undressed.

With a sideways smile at seeing his wife's reaction to his nudity, Aemond entered the bathtub, murmuring in satisfaction with the temperature of the water.

Y/n, her face still warm, knelt at the foot of the bathtub and gently massaged his uninjured shoulder, leaving sweet kisses there.

-This shoulder is not hurt. - Aemond spoke to her in a soft voice for the first time, making her smile against his damp skin.

-It must be at least sore from the effort. - She murmured very close to his neck, making him smile even though she couldn't see it.

-Join me, wife. - He turned his head back, watching her with a calm gaze.

And with a shy and very happy smile, Y/n removed her own clothes under the watchful eye of Aemond, who sighed when she was completely naked and embarrassed in front of him. The prince always found it sweet how she had not yet lost her shyness when being naked in front of him in these two months of marriage.

Y/n entered the bathtub and before she could sit on the other end of the bathtub he pulled her to sit on his thighs, leaving his wife very close to him, making her sigh.

-Are you sure it doesn't hurt at all, husband? - She gently ran her fingertips over the injured area.

-Mmmm. - He shook his head. - But I could use more kisses.

And with butterflies in her stomach Y/n did so, leaving sweet and moist kisses around her husband's shoulder who just laid his head back in contentment.

-You know if I had an injury like that I would be in a lot of pain. - She looked at him from under her eyelashes. - You are so strong husband.

Aemond had never felt so imposing in his entire life as when he heard his wife saying in that sweet and soft voice how strong he was, while looking at him from under her eyelashes sitting naked on his cock.

-I haven’t felt so much pain since I lost my eye. - Aemond didn't know where that had come from, he felt so relaxed at that moment that the words just flowed through his tongue with ease in a strange way. - It seems that I have become a little insensitive to slight pain.

Y/n gently ran her hand over his face where the eye patch was still firmly in place even during the bath. And after taking a deep breath fearing rejection after a day with so many advances she asked.

-Can I see husband?

Aemond automatically looked away, staring at his wife's breasts while his hands firmly locked on her waist.

-You don't want to see that, wife. - He muttered through his teeth. - It's not pleasant to look at.

-I think everything about you is pleasing to the eye, husband. - She tried to encourage him by stroking the scarred cheek below the eye patch, but still feeling afraid that he would push her away from him. - I would appreciate it very much if you let me see all of you.

And even fearful of his wife's reaction, taken by that strange and unfamiliar feeling in the midst of that moment of softness, Aemond removed the eye patch and dropped it on the floor next to the bathtub without looking her in the eyes.

Aemond's stomach turned as much as it had flown for the first time on Vhagar when he felt his wife's soft lips placing a gentle kiss against the deformed skin where his eye had once been.

-Gavy. (Gevie -Beautiful) - Her voice sounded like a very poor attempt at High Valyrian and Aemond's eyebrows arched.

-Where did you learn that?

-I read it in a book in the library. - She lowered her eyes in embarrassment. - Was the pronunciation bad?

-It was perfect. - He murmured with his eyes closed, lost in those sensations as he felt her sweet kisses against his face.

And with redoubled affection Y/n washed the herbs from Aemond's body and with a smile noticed that the redness had divided quite a bit, as well as the bleeding.

-After the bath I need to apply another ointment to you according to the maester, husband. - She smiled completely happy with her husband's moment of confidence. - To help it heal, he said.

-Mmm. - Aemond would let her do anything about him, as long as he could feel the softness of his wife's touch and her care and concern directed at him.

And with a sigh he trailed kisses down her soft neck, drawing low sighs and gasps from those gentle lips.

-I want you to be the one to take care of me from now on, wife. - He continued kissing her, and with a smile of pure contentment Y/n nodded positively to her husband.

-It is a pleasure for me to take care of you, husband. - She sighed at him in joy, making Aemond's heart accelerate in a strange way that made him want to vomit. He didn't understand what it was, it wasn't desire, something he was very familiar with as he desired his wife constantly, yes he was hard against her wet intimacy, but there was more.

There was something strange consuming him inside without explanation and he felt that even if he took her at that moment he wouldn't be close enough to her. And as he slid into her warm and receptive intimacy, he could feel his wife's arms hugging him tightly and pulling him closer and closer to her while she left kisses on his shoulders and face, making him lose himself inside her, feeling more and more of that sensation as strong as the pleasure of spilling his own seed inside his wife.

And letting himself be carried away by that moment, Aemond kissed her sweetly on the lips, almost a soft caress, while he felt her entangle her hands in his hair, caressing it in a way so gentle that it didn't seem intended for sex, but rather for something more delicate that the prince couldn't say the name.

-Skoros issi ao naejot issa? (What are you doing to me?) - He muttered between sighs, and Y/n had no idea what he had said, but chose to think it was something good.

All those unknown emotions, feelings and sensations were too much for Aemond, tearing from him an unparalleled pleasure that he had never felt in his entire life, and he poured himself deep inside his wife while hugging her tightly to his chest with a poignant need to feel her as close to him as possible.

And when Y/n came in his arms soon after, looking into his eyes without a hint of repulsion for his missing eye, but rather kissing him again while admiring him with pure devotion, Aemond knew. His wife's healing kisses might not help his wounded skin heal any faster, nor would they even bring back the eye that had been ripped out, but perhaps little by little they could help him heal much deeper wounds.

[hadesrise]

## can’t help falling in love !!

summary──── no matter what tragedy strikes, you and jason can’t help falling in love with each other. based on “can’t help falling in love” by elvis presley.

pairings──── jason peter todd x addams!male reader

warnings──── fluff, angst, very suggestive in the beginning, foul language, death and resurrection, mentions of violence, brainwash, hurt/comfort, destined soulmates, possessiveness if you squint, blood

author’s note──── okay, i take back what i said. i probably won’t stop writing addams!reader anytime soon. by the way, i don’t have specific jason in mind so any universe can be imagined for all my jason fics.

Wise men say

Only fools rush in

But I can’t help falling in love with you

The chilly air makes goosebumps appear on Jason’s skin as he hugs himself to shield away from the cold. Dark shine of the moon bringing peace to the silence completely surrounding him, Jason admires the statues littered across the graveyard behind the Addams manor in honour of your fallen ancestors. Despite darkness lurking behind every shadow and spirits wandering around tirelessly, this place held utter peace and comfort, warming Jason’s heart by embracing it tightly in their arms.

Each ancestors had extraordinary headstone that fits them best with their statue standing tall and proud, it truly shows how Addams honour their family members the right way. None of their headstones were simple or boring, each having unique traits that Jason was certain they used to have when they were alive. Each Addams have unique traits that differed from one another, but all of them were undeniably extraordinary. They aren’t like any other, much like how his lover’s not like any other.

Jason feels a coat being wrapped around him before two arms sneaks around his waist, shoulder weighing slightly from where you rest your chin on it. He fights back a smile.

“You could’ve called for me, beau. My siblings wouldn’t have minded one less duelling partner.” You softly say, pressing a kiss on his shoulder.

Jason instinctually leans back, snuggling to your neck. “Yeah, but you should spend more time with ‘em. Always with me, they’re gonna start thinking you’re forgetting your own siblings.”

“I assure you, they would not.” You start slowly swaying your bodies together to a non-existent music as Jason follows through with you. “They’re going to start thinking you’re forgetting them. Wednesday and Pugsley prefer you more than me, sweetheart, especially Wednesday.”

“Oh, really?” Jason smirks.

“Yes, really.” You nod with a sigh, though he could tell you weren’t annoyed at all. “She pushed me down the stairs last night after we’ve gotten back from our date.”

Jason throws his head back with a laugh, “Sorry, babe. She might or might not have invited me to throw an axe at Pugsley and I turned it down.”

“No wonder she was beyond irritated with me,” Amusement fills your tone as the corner of your lips twitch up to form a subtle smile. Jason looks at you over his shoulder and you immediately lean in for a lingering kiss, butterflies erupting in his stomach as his heart skip a beat. You then kiss his cheek and forehead before resting your chin back on his shoulder with eyes closed.

Jason sighs in content, admiring your captivating features that somehow reminds him of death. But your presence wasn’t as cold as death, it’s warm and engulfing despite your touch rivaling that coldness of an ice. He leans closer for a moment, only to lift your arms that were around him so he could face you while still being embraced by you, burying his face on the crook of your neck.

“I really love you.” He sighs, arms secure around your back.

“I would do everything for you,” Your reply was instant, resting your head against his. He felt your arms squeeze him as if to emphasise, and he chuckled.

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?” The silly question slips from his lips, half-joking and half-serious, pulling his head back to look into your nearly lifeless eyes. He’s reminded of how it’s only alive because of him.

Your eyebrows raised slightly in mere question and amusement, but you take his hand and press a tender kiss on his palm.

“I adore you in every universe. I love you just as much as Icarus has loved the sun — even more than he’s loved the sun. I would shatter the ground and raise hell just to find you wherever you go. I would paint the sky with shooting stars to fulfill your wish. I would tear the world apart and watch the universe collapse if you are ever taken from me, for a life without you is a life full of unquenchable thirst and eternal hunger unworthy of surviving. I would worship every ground you stand and walk on to an extent which I wish not to touch the ground you haven’t touched yet, for it hasn’t been blessed with your divine greatness. I would offer you my eyes if your vision fails, my voice if yours can no longer function, my heart if yours cease to beat, my hands if you can no longer hold the world in yours, my legs if yours fail to take you to places you’ve dreamed of. Only death shall keep me away from you, and even so, it would merely be enough to prevent me from either clawing the dirt apart and rising alive to hold you in my arms, or dragging you down with me to rest for all eternity together.”

By the end of your speech, Jason was already crying ocean of tears as his eyes twinkles in overwhelming happiness, extremely touched.

Both of you always make long and romantic declaration of your love for each other in most random times, and while his speech makes you smile from ear to ear and giddy like a high schooler, yours often never failed to reduce him into nothing but a sobbing and crying mess. He hates it, but could never bring himself to hate you for making him cry.

You smile gently at him and press very soft kisses on both of his eyelids before continuing, “Therefore, the answer is yes, my love. I would still love you if you were a worm.”

Jason chokes out a chuckle, sniffing. “Fuck you for always catching me off guard and making me cry.”

Your hands cup his red face as you coo, “Do not be ashamed for shedding your tears, Jason. Quite frankly, I find them very captivating.”

“Yeah?” He smirked. “You like seeing me cry?”

“Ah, yes...” A flirtatious smirk appears on your lips, one arm pulling him close and the other hand sneaking up to gently clasp your fingers around his throat. “Indeed, I do. Especially in bed.”

Jason resists his urge to moan when you squeezed slightly, tilting his head back a little to give you more access. “Why in bed when you can make me cry right here and now?” He whispered, rather lusciously as you stare into his lustful eyes.

You lick your lips before smashing your lips on his hungrily and Jason quickly reciprocates, no longer feeling the chilliness of the graveyard air.

Shall I stay?

Would it be a sin

If I can’t help falling in love with you?

Jason loves you more than words can express. He loves you oh so dearly that he would turn back to the God that his heart stopped believing after he came back to life just so he could recite prayers for an eternity with you. Jason never thought it was possible to love someone so much so that he’d be willing to both give up everything for you and give you everything you want.

But sometimes, love makes him afraid.

Afraid of losing you. Afraid of seeing you hurt. Afraid of knowing anyone and anything can take you away any moment. He hadn’t thought about what you feel everytime you see him injured, but when you walked into the living room all bloody, bruised and slashed, his heart stopped and the mug he was holding just slipped from his hand to shatter on the floor.

You laid down on the large expensive sofa with a slight wince as Jason ran off to find some medical kits available in the Addams manor, being helped by Thing to locate its whereabout, before running back in with the necessities. He almost got a heart attack when he saw you had your eyes closed, seemingly not breathing, looking paler than usual. Dropping the medical kits on the carpeted floor below the sofa, he quickly checks on your pulse and sighs in relief when he feels it, just then remembering that an Addams is very unlikely to show any physical signs of breathing unless letting out a sigh.

You open your eyes and admire his face twisted in worry and fear, moving up a hand to pat his head twice. “It’s not necessary to be overly concerned, my dear. Nothing to fear of, these are mere injuries that can easily be treated.” You wave it off with the same hand, somehow very calm and nonchalant despite how intense your injuries looked.

Sadness now replacing the look on his face, Jason wordlessly shakes his head and begins to treat the bruises and cuts on your face with careful and soothing hands. You stop him gently to remove your vigilante suit before letting him continue, comforting silence filling the almost grim atmosphere. Jason doesn’t realise you’re watching every bit of his expression, seeing the way his perfect eyebrows furrow and his lips frown slightly every time he moves from one injury to another. It feels like the injury’s getting worse the more he moved to the next, and it made his heart heavy.

Your gaze softens, knowing he was having second thoughts about speaking the things that bothered him.

It seems Jason has quickly gathered the strength to speak because before you can throw encouraging words, his quiet voice interrupts the comfortable silence. “I know you’re not afraid of dying or anything with your culture and all, but it makes me worry a lot.” You nod to let him know you’re listening. “I sound like a real hypocrite ‘cause I go out on mission then come back here looking like a fucking zombie more than I want to admit, so I don’t have the right to say anything like this, but you almost gave me a heart attack.”

The corner of your mouth twitched, silently encouraging him to speak his thoughts more as he cleans your wounds. You don’t miss the way Jason’s hand trembled.

“You’re not...” He trailed off, hesitant to continue as he bit his lip as if to contemplate whether or not to say it out loud. He followed through it, anyway. “You’re not gonna leave me, right?” Jason tries, looking up and meeting your eyes. His emerald irises were wavering in worry and hint of fear.

Your hand gently caress his face, Jason leaning on it immediately. “As I’ve said before, mon amour... Death is merely enough to prevent me from crawling back to you.” Ignoring your freshly bandaged wounds, you pulled Jason on your lap and tugged at the back of his neck to kiss his lips passionately and comfortingly. “Leaving you only means leaving my heart and soul behind, darling. We wouldn’t want me to feel incomplete, would we?”

Jason sighs in content against your lips, before carefully shifting on the big sofa so he could squish beside you and pull you to his chest, initiatively big-spooning you.

“m’just really scared to lose you,” He whispered, burying his face on your hair and hugging you close, but not tight enough to hurt. It’s not like you’re capable of feeling pain, but you appreciated his kindness nonetheless.

You press a tender kiss on his chest, looking up at him and frowning softly. “I sincerely apologize for frightening you, my love. I’ll make an oath to be careful next time.”

Jason nods, basking in your warmth, your scent, your presence.

Gods, he loves you too much to let you go. He could never, would never. You belong to him just as much as he belongs to you and even death has no right to take that away. You were his, and only his — in life and in death.

You feel Jason’s arms tighten around you, and resisted the smile spreading across your face. Death can never intimidate you as your culture revolves around it, but the thought of losing Jason was always triggering for you. It made you dive into insanity and quickly get rid of the problem at hand, as if you’ll suffocate if you’re not quick enough to eliminate the threat. Handling Joker physically, handling Bruce mentally, handling those irrelevant crime lords who nearly hurt Red Hood off the streets violently, all things of sort.

Fall down with me further, mon chéri.

Your mind shall be filled with me and only me, even if it’s the utter fear of losing me.

A dreamy look flashed across your eyes before disappearing fast, burying your face in his chest and embracing him tighter. If you’re both too afraid for the other to die and lose them, then maybe dying together would not sound so bad at all.

You had read once on a book that falling in love is a curse, for you’ll drown in it before you even realise and fail to resurface once you fall too deep, unable to ever get out again.

However, if that is the case, you disagreed. Because it was never a curse, it’s only ever been a blessing.

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

“Where the fuck is he!?” Jason yelled in rage, red clouding his vision as he threw the mug on a wall. Panic, anger, and worry filled his chest that made his frustration grow even more.

Bruce sighed, worry also plastering his face as he attempted to grasp your location with the computer. “He’s only been gone for an hour, Jason. Be patient.”

��Anything can fucking happen in an hour!” He growled back, glaring harshly before the worry and panic began to overthrow his anger, one hand slipping through his hair and tugging at it. “I— fuck, what am I gonna do? I shouldn’t have let him go alone, I should’ve went with him—”

Dick quickly approached his little brother when his breathing started to grow uneven. “Jay, hey... Breathe, calm yourself first. He’s going to be okay, he’s an untouchable badass.”

“No, you don’t understand,” Jason shakes his head, rubbing his face. “I wouldn’t know what to do without him— I can’t live without him, Dicky. I can’t.” His voice broke as he trembled, silence filling the air with everyone frowning in sadness and worry.

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be

Jason felt his heart thumping loudly against his chest when he saw you fighting enemies with only sustaining little injuries, relief flooding throughout his body. It’s like the world brightened up again, ironically.

You made eye contact in the middle of the fight, smirking at him. “Can’t get rid of me easily, love.”

A light-hearted chuckle erupts from Jason as he joins you along with the Batfam in fighting the League of Assassins, you and Jason moving in sync as if dancing through the violence. Both of you moved swiftly together, fitting each other perfectly like the pieces of a puzzle, using each other occassionally as a leverage against them.

“This is like dancing in our graveyard,” Jason grinned under his Red Hood helmet, adrenaline rushing in his veins.

“Indeed, it does feel like it.” You responded with subtle enthusiasm, only noticeable by your lover. He laughs at your answer, enjoying the moment even when it was violent.

Take my hand

Take my whole life too

He doesn’t know why he got distracted. He doesn’t know why he didn’t pay attention more to his surroundings. But before Jason knew it, Raj’s Al Ghul’s sword was nearly piercing into him.

Until your firm and cold hand pushed him away, everything feeling like a slow motion in Jason’s eyes as the sword pierced into your chest and through your back, directly striking the heart. Jason’s eyes widened, anguished call of your name slipping from his lips. Blood dripping from your mouth, you tightly held onto the sword before driving one of your sais on Raj’s Al Ghul’s throat, where a vital point is.

The League of Assassins member fell on the ground first, clutching his throat and choking on his own blood.

Amusement flickers in your eyes, even at the graveness of the situation. You looked back at Jason and smiled, grabbing the sword’s handle and pulling it off your chest despite Batman’s loud protests. Loud metallic clank echoes within the warehouse as you dropped the sword on the concrete, stepping forward once towards your lover, but your legs giving away made you almost tumble down.

Jason immediately catches you in his arms and lays you on his lap, tears stinging his eyes as his breath quickens, removing his helmet to throw it beside him. Heartbeat rapid and restless, heart dropped to his stomach, nausea forming in the pit due to the sight of blood flowing outwards to your vigilante suit from the hole on your chest. He could feel a panic attack nearing, but couldn’t be bothered to care when the blood kept pouring out even when he applied pressure.

“No— no, no, no, no.” He chokes up, swallowing the lump that formed in his throat, trembling hands continuously putting pressure on your chest. “Stay with me, please. Stay with me. I can’t—” He sobbed. “I can’t lose you.”

Your breathing was shallow yet no fear plastered your face. There’s your usual calmness, the nonchalance that Bruce used to be so unsettled when he first met you, your almost dead eyes still sparkling in love and adoration for Jason. You don’t seem to care about your injury nor the outstretched arms of the Grim Reaper.

Your bloodied lips stretches to form a weak smile, captivated by Jason’s beauty under the moonlight. “You’re still magnificent, cherí… A sight to behold… under the moonlight…”

“Baby, now’s not the time.” Jason whined pathetically, tears flowing endlessly from his eyes. Dread, fear, devastation settling in his chest. “Please, baby. Please. I don’t know- fuck, I can’t live without you.” He cried, uncaring that you two were surrounded by his family. “I don’t… I can’t, baby. I— I can’t lose you, please.”

Adrenaline rushing through your veins and motivated by your sheer love for him, you reached up to wipe his tears and grab his other hand to intertwine it with yours. Jason’s heart drops further down the abyss when you then used it to pull out his dagger — the one you gifted him — out of his holster. “You would not lose me, by other’s hands, my sweetheart… I made an oath, to only offer you my life and soul, with no one else to have the privilege of ending me.”

“No— please, baby, no…” Jason weakly shakes his head, sobbing.

You gripped his hand that held the dagger. “You ought to, cherí… It is an honour for me to die by your hands. Please, allow me… to love you, one last time.”

Jason whimpered your name, crying heavily as he leans down to rest his head on yours. You were so cruel, wanting to die by his hands, wanting him to live forever with his hands stained in your blood— but Jason knew that’s how extent your love was for him. He could never deny you, not when it was your greatest wish.

Croaks and sobs escaping him, Jason finally drives the dagger through your chest, right where the sword pierced you. It is only then you slumped against him, hands slowly dropping to your sides with mouth slightly turned up in a smile of peace and satisfaction.

The greatest proof that you love him. Carving yourself deep into his heart, so he could never be alone even when you’re physically gone.

Jason wailed in anguish and sorrow, hugging your now lifeless body close as he brokenly recites the speech you gave him in the graveyard.

You hurt him badly, loved him too cruelly, but it was still better than losing you forever. He would’ve driven the dagger into his own beating heart if only you allowed him.

For I can’t help falling in love with you

Jason lost the brightness he had in him. Emerald eyes lifeless that seemed as if you took his soul with you, still functioning yet lacking in human emotions as if he was a robotic being.

Sometimes, he breaks so suddenly. Utters your name like a curse, sobbing and weeping in his room, scar so deep in his heart he scratches at his chest in attempt to get it out to stop the ache. His emotions were too unstable that left him unqualified to continue the vigilantism, which he agreed emotionlessly when pointed out by Bruce.

Sometimes, he’s shattered too much and far too gone in grief that he sleeps on your grave. Covers himself in blanket and nuzzles on your headstone, as if it would give him the warmth you always radiated despite being as cold as death. He could only sleep that way; the sleeping pills don’t help, but being close to your body does.

He holds his dagger close to him all the time. Stained in your dried blood that he never got the nerve to wash off, afraid that his mind would someday choose to forget your existence to block out the trauma.

He wears everything you used to wear. Uses your weapons, things, accessories. His favourite is your sunglasses. Having your possessions close always made him feel like you were embracing him.

No one ever attempted to get them away from him in fear of shattering his soul furthermore. His entire being seemingly dependent on everything that reminded of you, they didn’t want to trigger something inside of him any more than the scar in his heart did.

“Love truly is the greatest twisted curse in the world, Mr. Wayne.” Morticia mutters in sorrow as she looks out the window of the Addams’ manor, watching Jason curl up against your headstone with tears silently streaming down his face.

Bruce looks down in dejection, nodding his head.

His boy was beyond repair, and no one could do anything about it because you were gone.

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Jason’s eyes were wide in shock and horror. Emotions swirled within his chest; anger, disgust, sadness, grief, disbelief, and joy battling one another that overwhelmed him all at once. His family stood with him in front of the monitor, their expressions just as horrified as him, the familiar situation causing dread to settle in the pit of Bruce’s stomach.

The monitor showed you, alive and well with the exception of your eyes seemingly more dead and lifeless than before. Everything was the same from your emotionless face to your vigilante suit that you died in, but Jason could see right through you. This wasn’t you. This you wasn’t his.

Not when you were standing in the same room as the Joker who you’d immediately kill if you were put together.

Jason was even more certain you weren’t his when he sees you up close, your personality different from that sophisticated, nonchalant yet wonderful one you had before. You’re just… blank. A dead person living without humanity and following orders. You don’t follow orders, you hated being controlled.

The familiarity makes his chest clench and hurt. He’s been through this exact thing, he never thought you would experience it too.

“I don’t want to fight you, baby.” Jason whispered, voice cracking. His helmet hiding the heartbroken look on his face that you were standing in front of him with your sais pointed dangerously in his direction.

You scowled. He’s somehow familiar, your chest erupting in unknown emotions that Talia never taught you about. The urge to hold him close was tugging at the strings of your heart, but you stay glued to your spot. “I do not know you, fool.” You emotionlessly remark.

Hurt flashed across his face. There’s nothing he wanted more than to be held by you and hold you close, but how could he when you don’t recognise him? Did they brainwash you? Your memories lack, but they could come back, right?

“Red Hood,” Batman warningly calls his name when you lowered your stance.

Jason still didn’t pull out his guns.

“Baby, it’s me.” He whispered weakly. “Please, you said you’ll hold me again. You’ll crawl out of dirt to hold me or pull me under with you, remember?” Jason tried again, tears shimmering his eyes. His throat burned.

Your eyes narrowed, brows furrowing. You feel like you’ve told him that, but couldn’t remember. Something was banging on your head from the depths of your mind that made it throb. Gripping your sais, you desperately ignored the pain to focus on your task.

“Ignore it,” Talia’s voice entered your ears. “Kill him.”

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be

“Fuck!” Jason yelps when you managed to slash him on his leg, dodging your next attack quickly. “Wait— please, listen to me!”

“Red Hood, watch out!” Red Robin shouts just as Jason narrowly avoids your sai flying towards his head.

He couldn’t find any other way to get you to listen. The way you attempted to tune him out makes him believe you were feeling something, but there’s nothing he could do when you keep coming at his throat. Desperation runs through his veins, heart still bleeding out for you even as you try to kill him. The coldness in your eyes was foreign that carved another scar in his heart, but he can’t hate you no matter what.

Jason’s heart jackhammered against his ribcage when you finally caught him by the throat and slammed him harshly on the floor, your murderous look that he always loved plastered over your face. He stops struggling after realising he could never hurt you again, and slowly hovers his hand over your wrist. Your grip on his throat was tight, but Jason couldn’t be bothered to panic.

He finally had you again at last. Why should he panic when the source of his life was so near to him?

“Have you gotten exhausted of fighting back?” You calmly tilted your head, curiosity in your eyes. Jason doesn’t miss the split seconds of conflicted look.

“I can’t,” He replies quietly. “I love you, baby. Never stopped.” His other hand raised to remove his helmet, ignoring Bruce’s protest, and your grip on his throat faltered as soon as you make eye contact with the emerald eyes that you adore too much.

“I don’t want to fight you. So kill me,” Jason mumbled with a soft voice. “Allow me to love you one last time and stab my heart with your sai. For a life without you is a life full of unquenchable thirst and eternal hunger unworthy of surviving.” He recited your own quote back to you with a tearful smile.

Closing his eyes, peace overtakes Jason for the first time in a long while since losing you as he waits for the abrupt pain of being pierced through the heart. However, all that came was softness attaching itself to his lips.

Take my hand

Take my whole life, too

Jason snaps his eyes wide open in shock at your lips pressing against his, the death grip on his throat loosening just to hover affectionately over it. His body naturally reacts, moving on its own to reciprocate your kiss and relish in it, arms flying up to wrap around your neck.

You pulled away when he yearns for oxygen, a sob nearly escaping him again when he sees the love and warmth in your eyes. You smile gently at him, brightness returning to your previously dead eyes. “I’m deeply sorry, my love. I’m back.”

Jason tearfully chuckled and crushed you in a hug, heart rapidly beating against his chest. Relief wasn’t enough of a word to describe the happiness he felt. The feeling of being embraced tightly by you causing tears to stream down his face for the nth time, his longing and yearning finally being fulfilled. He missed this, he missed you, he missed his only home.

For I can’t help falling in love with you

Neither you nor Jason had left the bedroom since returning, having locked yourselves up in his room that you shared to obtain privacy for yourselves. None of the Waynes were bothered too much as they understood how much Jason yearned for your presence, the only comfort he’s ever had in his life.

Jason’s been holding onto you for dear life with the fear of you vanishing out of nowhere, his face buried on the crook of your neck and hand resting on your chest directly above your heart to feel it beating through his palm. Your arms securely wrapped around him in reassurance makes him feel more safe and at peace than he ever did. He pulls away slightly to look up, seeing you already staring at him with fondness and comfort.

“Don’t leave me again, please.” He croaks like a lost child, voice cracking.

You kissed his forehead. “I’d return to you in a heartbeat, my Jason.”

Jason stares into your gentle eyes, snuggling closer to you and intwining his legs with yours to feel every part of you. “Can’t live without you, baby.” He whispered.

You smiled. Perhaps, it was time to tell him.

Even death can’t severe the emotional bond and love you have for each other, which leaves one option; together. Falling out of love was never in either of your vocabulary, anyway.

For I can’t help falling in love with you

© all rights reserved to hadesrise ──── stealing, plagiarising, or using my works for monetary gain is strictly prohibited. ask permission before reposting or translating.

[erodasfishtacos]

steer clear - roommates!abo pt 2

summary: and they were roommates… word count: 6k an: more parts up on my patreon and they are next to be updated.

you can subscribe for $3USD here and get access to 300+ exclusive writings & I update every one to three days !

this is a follow up to this +++ YN will fully blame her pre-heat, looking back at the events of the morning.

She cannot believe that she walked around an angry alpha barely dressed, taunted him, and casually bared her neck.

It was starting to worry her that she didn’t put enough consideration into the idea of how her alpha roommate would affect her heat disorder.

YN was only a week and a half into her month of preheat but she feels like the symptoms were stronger now that his rich, deep scent lingered on every inch of the apartment.

She truly despised this knothead, know it all alpha.

YN also desperately wants to be held tightly in his arms.

She needed a nap.

++

YN decides that she needs a night out with Niall.

She breaks her own cardinal rule of not drinking during preheat because of the way she acts.

YN’s become aggressive in the past, not necessarily physically but just like how she gets during heat, she almost becomes a feral, wild creature like their ancestors instead of the normal, calm, sweet girl she was.

Niall wouldn’t have agreed to go out with her or at least offered her shots if he knew that she was in pre-heat so she purposefully failed to mention that was one of the reasons she had been so stressed out recently.

The bar is fine, it’s not crowded because it’s a work night.

Niall didn’t care if he had work the next morning, he was always down for a good time and swore that he’s not once experienced a hangover.

By the time that Niall has walked YN to the hallway of her apartment, he watches from near the elevator to make sure that she unlocks the door and gets inside safely before he turns to get back in the lift to go home.

YN wasn’t as drunk as she was at the bar but she would still deem that she was over the line of being buzzed as she shut the door a bit too harshly before fumbling to lock it with a bit of a struggle.

It takes her a moment, as she rests her hand up against the wall to unstrap her heels to realize that there are new scents in their apartment.

Not only that but a distinct semi-sweet scent of an omega, who YN doesn’t recognize by scent nor wants it her home, let alone the other betas.

The film of fury starts to develop over her vision, only exaggerated by the tequila still pumping through her veins and altering her state of mind, on top of the hormonal changes as her body shifts to go through her cycle.

When she steps further into the apartment, YN spots a small group of people in the living room with drinks, snacks, and everything swiped from her coffee table.

It was nicely stacked and set aside near the television but all YN could see was that her safe space had been fucked with.

She couldn’t even smell Harry that well with everybody in the mix and that triggered her even more into a sense of insecurity.

Though logically YN wouldn’t call Harry her alpha, her omega has already identified him as hers or at least a potential alpha for her for heat, and the fact that his scent was not currently oozing through every inch of their living space was alarming.

They were playing a somewhat complex looking board game that YN had never seen before, all laughing and joking easily, having a good time.

YN focuses on the omega instantly.

She’s has thick-framed glasses that took up most of her face, tangled curls thrown into a messy bun, and tattoos that covered nearly every inch of visible skin.

Her scent was mediocre at best, at least to YN’s nose, and though this girl had never done anything to her - YN already felt a strong sense of anger and jealously that she even had the audacity to step into her apartment, her safety from the world.

The omega wasn’t even sitting near Harry.

Harry had two betas on either side of him, their shoulders bumping casually from trying to squeeze in around their coffee table but any physical contact with her alpha- with Harry was just completely unacceptable right now

Everyone’s eyes dart up to YN, most of them have friendly smiles on their faces.

YN realizes that Harry had been smiling and it had really been the first time she had seen that from him, he surprisingly enough had dimples.

However, when he looks up from his stack of cards, the smile fades into something stormier, something she was much more used to seeing.

YN vision feels blurry for a moment, blinking harshly, and desperately trying to simmer the rage that was starting to boil over.

When the omega slips her glasses up into her hair, she leans over to hand Harry a card from her deck, and she whispers something low enough YN can’t hear.

If she was in her right mind, she would realize that it had something to do with the game that they were playing but it felt like a threat.

YN’s voice is tight, shaking because she wants to get physical but knows she can’t, knows it’s not right but she’s never gotten this hostile before.

“Get out of my house,” YN hisses and even though it’s directly at everyone, her eyes are glued onto the omega who rightfully looks startled.

Harry stands up, chest puffed and shoulders as broad as possible, and looking a hundred thousand percent like the alpha of her dreams.

“YN,” His voice is firm, not quite at an alpha timbre but not too far off, he sensed the true threat, and realized this could go very bad.

“Get the fuck out of my house!” YN screeched louder, her chest was heaving and she knew her eyes were wide and erratic as they darted around to keep an eye on every person in her house.

“Hey,” Harry’s voice warns, stepping out of the group and closer to her, “I will have everyone leave but you’re not going to be aggressive like this. They’re not doing anything to endanger you.”

YN bares her teeth at him, upset that he’s not protecting her safe space for her.

How could he not see that they’re ruining everything?

“Get them out!” YN waves her hand toward the door sharply, kicking a pair of shoes in their vicinity for good measure.

“Settle down now,” Harry booms louder, finally in his alpha tone, and it’s something that quite literally flips a switch in her mind to obey.

YN blinks at him, suddenly feeling heavy like there were weights in her limbs as she stills snarls but doesn’t emit any noises further towards the guests.

The anger dissipates and is fully replaced with despair.

It’s not something that has ever happened before but then again, this was the first time that she had ever had an alpha in her life.

YN doesn’t melt though, not when Harry wraps his fingers securely around her wrist, and tells his friends, “I’m going to take her back to her bedroom. See yourselves out. I’ll contact you all in the morning to reschedule.”

YN doesn’t want to go to her room until they’re fully out of her house but when she hesitates in the entryway, Harry tugs at her, still gruff and alpha when he snaps, “Let’s go, now.”

She follows, albeit unwillingly and still fucking too buzzed to fully process anything that was going on in these last minutes.

Harry opens her bedroom door, nostrils flaring whether it’s from his disdain for her scent or just agitation - most likely a mixture of most

“Stay here until I say so,” Harry demands, in his typical bossy alpha way as he nudges her into her now open bedroom door.

“It’s my apartment,” YN nearly growled at him, eyes narrowed.

“It is also my apartment as well,” Harry points out, calm and emotionless as ever, “And you acting like a feral, unregulated little pup isn’t going to fly with me.”

YN feels like it’s an insult to her value as an omega.

It makes her want to shrink and become unreasonably small.

She already felt that way compared to him.

When Harry moves to shut her door as he leaves, she can’t help but bite out, “Knothead.”

Harry shakes his head in annoyance but only reminds her once more, “Stay here.”

YN ignores him, after he shuts the door, YN decides it’s time to change out of her form-fitting outfit and into something much more comfortable.

All she can think about though is that the feeling that her apartment, her safe space for her head, has been disturbed, and she’s going to have to fix it or she won’t be able to sleep.

She didn’t get a good enough look to know what’s out of place or not but she can guess things were moved around and touched.

YN changes into a soft pajama shorts and a cropped tee, nearly bouncing on her feet for the confirmation that all of the intruders have left her house.

If she wasn’t buzzed and in pre-heat in the presence of the first alpha she’d ever really known, she would have probably joined in the game or conversation.

All bets were off during the lead up to her cycle.

Once the door cracks open, Harry doesn’t peek his head in or anything but simply rumbles, “Everyone is gone.”

He doesn’t say anything else before she can hear him walking the few steps to his bedroom and shutting the door harshly.

YN feels like a live wire is in her veins as she exits her bedroom, eyes trying to go everywhere at once but instantly focus in on the game that’s still laid out on the coffee table.

She doesn’t care in that moment that she might be messing things up as she starts to shuffle all the pieces back into the box with a bit of unnecessary urgency.

But before she even gets half-way done with that, she realizes that someone has moved Beatrice’s box of toys to the wrong corner of the room.

Her little metallic crinkle balls, her fish on a string, all of them were splayed out over the floor, and not nicely tucked away as YN had left them.

Then she realizes that the visitors had been using her throw blankets which means they automatically had to get rewashed first thing tomorrow.

YN threw the three blankets in a pile near the entryway, she didn’t even realize that there were tears streaming down her cheeks instantly.

Harry pads back down the hallway as she is re-entering the living room, that same annoying scowl on his face, and tense body language.

“You don’t have to prove this point to me. I would have cleaned all these things up once you went to sleep,” Harry huffs out as YN moves a chair back to its original place at her dining room table.

YN isn’t proving a point though

She’s trying to fix her safe space that he had so carelessly destroyed.

Harry moves towards the coffee table to clean up the rest of the board game but YN snaps at him first.

“You already disrupted enough! Let me clean this up! Don’t touch anything else!” YN is half yelling, half begging at this point.

“Why are you being so fuckin’ difficult with me? Ever since you walked in the front door,” Harry throws his arms up, “Is it because I had people over without asking? I didn’t know I needed your permission.”

His tone is triggering, his stance, his scent.

YN was starting to think that there has been great reasons now to steer clear of stupid fucking alphas. YN bristles at him because there’s something about the way he’s acting that makes her skin itchy.

He was the alpha, she was the omega.

They’ve established that and he should know that this isn’t normal for any omega without some type of disorder.

YN wonders if Harry has any mate-like instincts or if he truly is unbothered by the way she acts because he doesn’t give an ounce of care about her.

She decides the best thing she can do right now is ignore him completely as she continues to tuck the decorative pillows back in their spots.

Harry is waiting for a response but realizes after a moment of heavy silence that he wasn’t going to be receiving one from her.

“If it was an issue, I am not a fuckin’ mind reader,” Harry continues on, volume loud enough that it pricks at her ears sharply, “If there was a problem with it, you need to be an adult and communicate.”

YN drops the pillow she was just about to place, eyes burning near fire as she snarls at him, loudly and frustrated now.

“I did tell you!” YN raises her voice, vocal cords straining because yelling for her was a rare occurrence that almost never happened, “You should have have some fucking alpha instincts or is there just too much testosterone in you to have common sense?”

Harry growls louder than before, at the insult of his secondary gender, no alpha wanted to be questioned on their abilities.

YN keeps on before he can respond, “I have been in pre-heat for the last week and a half. You knew that! You knew that I was struggling to sleep, feeling restless, and upset. Did you not?”

Harry’s jaw twitches, his throat bobbing as he swallows, his eyes darting guilty to the side for a moment before focusing back on her, “I did.”

“You knew I’m struggling through my pre-heat and you brought a group of people here? Unfamiliar people? An omega in my home?” YN breaks down, the rage leaving her body and tears flooding in instead.

The tension in Harry’s body starts to fade as he realizes what he’s done and he has the decency to look properly remorseful as she cries.

“My safe space doesn’t feel safe anymore,” YN sniffles as she pulls the collar of her shirt to cover her face, her vulnerability as she sobs, “You took away my safe space then yelled at me for being upset about it.”

“YN, I -“ Harry begins, his tone had softened ten-fold and his shoulders were relaxed, chest not as puffed up and intimidating.

YN shakes her head, wiping her eyes with the fabric before letting it drop again, “I need to go to my room. I need to be in my nest unless you’ve invited them to lay in there too?”

It was rhetorical and she didn’t give him a chance to reply either way as she storms passed him, avoiding his shoulder just barely to get to her room.

YN shuts her bedroom door, making sure that he can hear the lock distinctly as a warning, and relieve floods through her when she looks at her bed.

Her nest is perfectly as she left it if Beatrice was curled up to the left corner, and probably had been the whole time the group of people were here.

She had already been in her room when Harry marched her in here but she had been so frazzled that she could only think about getting out there to clean, not a thought to her nest.

Beatrice was the friendliest cat once she warmed up but until then she was anxious and tended to tuck herself somewhere away from noise.

YN’s already dressed for bed and readily crawls into her nest to bunker down under the layers of soft blankets and comfy sweaters.

She hates that it reaches underneath her pillow for Harry’s shirt that still had a decent amount of his rich scent on it to make her feel warm and fuzzy in a different way.

YN’s mind starts to wander, when he brought her back here, did he look at her nest?

Alphas should know that it is highly disrespectful and inappropriate to view an omega’s nest without their expressed consent and permission.

However, Harry was the rudest, most off-putting alpha that has ever walked the face of the earth which leaves her anxious that he did look.

If YN would have known that Harry would see it, she would have spent hours building a much prettier one, more constructed, bigger.

Her pre-heat and heat nests however were more about comfort than ability and appearance.

They were sloppy, hastily put together, and usually a wreck from how much YN tossed and turned in her sleep during these times.

YN surprisingly sleeps well once again because of her nose being tucked into a fabric carrying the most delicious scent she had ever smelled.

But she wakes up earlier than usual, especially because she was off work for the rest of the week because of the issues at their office and it was Tuesday.

She should be sleeping in.

YN doesn’t forget that Harry gets up earlier than her by a long shot and is out the door by the time her alarm goes off but she checks her clock.

She staggers to her door, moving to unlock the knob but when she glances down she notices her door is already unlocked.

YN doesn’t remember getting up at any point but with how much alcohol she had consumed the night before, she wouldn’t be surprised if she had gotten up to pee.

YN is dreading walking into the hallway to be met with the disappointing smell of all the random betas that had been over here.

Worst of all, the omega who’s scent would likely linger, and be more sensitive to her nose because of the insinuated threat of competition.

However, when she steps out, most of the lights are still off and it’s still completely dark outside which makes the dim lamp in the living room give some illumination.

YN doesn’t smell anything but Harry.

Like insanely, all encompassing Harry.

It was the best thing she’s ever woken up to.

When she pads into the main area, she notices that the apartment is a hundred percent back to normal, everything rearranged perfectly.

Not only that but it was even more spotless than before.

Most importantly, Harry must have rescented the whole apartment and marked it as his territory which maybe should make YN mad but it just brings her back to the feelings of being safe.

YN is blinking rapidly, eyes watering from relief as she runs her hand across a neatly folded throw blanket on the back of her couch.

It takes her a minute to realize it hasn’t just been scented but washed completely along with the other blankets that were tucked neatly into their basket by the couch.

“I should have asked before I marked the entire apartment. My…alpha went into a bit of overdrive after our conversation last night,” Harry’s voice interrupts the silence from the kitchen, it was low enough that it didn’t make her jump.

YN turns her head to look at him, he’s dressed in gym gear with a loose fitting black tee that doesn’t do justice to his defined body shape, mid thigh black running shorts, and black tennis shoes with crew socks.

He looked big, intimidating, and every bit of the angry alpha that he has shown in the past to her but he wasn’t posturing, he was leaning against the counter and sipping a protein shake from his shaker bottle.

“I…” YN shakes her head as she looks around, in awe that the alpha actually listened and did something kind for her that maybe he wasn’t the complete knothead she thought he was, “It’s okay. It feels safe again.”

“Even with my scent?” Harry clarifies, wariness in his expression as he watches her, eyes always focused and clear from under his dark lashes.

“I've never had an alpha in my proximity. It makes me feel safer and I like your scent. It really upset me when I could barely smell you when I got home last night,” YN doesn’t know where this honesty is coming from and isn’t sure whether she should regret it or not.

Harry has the same flash of guilt cross his face and that’s when YN realizes just how exhausted he appears with puffiness under his eyes, darker than usual coloring.

“It must have taken you a long time to do all this. You even did laundry and I know it takes ages for those dryers to actually dry anything heavier than a sock,” YN murmurs as she gives another glance around.

Harry rubs the back of his neck with his free hand, his hair was in a high bun, and his jawline was like something of a sculpture.

YN was still struggling to come to terms with the idea that this alpha was her flat mate, Niall never mentioned how impossibly handsome he is or devastatingly all dominant, primal alpha.

Maybe as a beta he truly didn’t notice.

Niall could be quite oblivious.

“I let my emotions get the best of me sometimes. I wasn’t thinking about how new scents in the house would affect your pre-heat,” Harry admits, his voice is still somewhat flat but it seemed genuine enough, “I am a good alpha.”

YN is a bit taken aback by his words.

It was the cadence of the way he spoke them.

Like he was trying to prove it to her.

“You should get some sleep before work,” YN defers the topic and from the twitch of Harry’s jaw - his annoyance too because he wanted validation.

He was being a good alpha but it was a little too late in this scenario.

“I have to get to the gym to train,” Harry shakes his head, swigging down the last of what was in his bottle before moving to wash it out.

“You can’t take a day off?”

“No,” Harry replies, simple and firm, “You should be the one getting back to sleep. You don’t have work today. You should rest, your body has been incredibly stressed out.”

“I’ll probably sleep the whole day now,” YN laughs but it’s the truth, she almost wants to move to the couch after he leaves to be more more enmeshed in his scent.

“The striped knit blanket in the basket, you might want to not use that one,” Harry tells her before he directly focuses on scrubbing his plastic cup.

“Did you not wash it?” Maybe it still smells like omega or beta.

“I did,” Harry blinks at her, frowning like he doesn’t want to answer but is being forced, “I just…it’s drenched in my scent. My alpha was unsettled so probably want to let it air out and lose the scent a bit first.”

“Okay,” YN replies easily because that means that after he leaves it will be the first one that she’s going to wrap herself into like a burrrito.

“Okay?” Harry repeats back, skeptical and sharp, “I don’t understand how all these betas and one omega triggers you so incredibly much while I can just stink up and claim this whole apartment with no issue.”

YN almost physically sees Harry start to put his guard up, hackles up and brows knitting downward to cause the wrinkle above his nose.

“It makes me feel safe, you…um, make me feel that way too,” YN admits, all to honest again, and she wonders why she is opening up to a brick wall.

Harry’s jaw twitches, eyes unreadable as he nods, “Okay.”

YN wants to laugh at his robotic, stiff response to such a major compliment.

She may be taunting a bull but she has to try.

Harry had just hung the dish towel back on the oven handle when YN walks into the kitchen and straight at him, not giving him a chance to move before she’s wrapping her arms around his middle and hugging him.

A major part of her expects him to push her off, scoff at her, or to even just stiffen up to the point that it would feel like hugging a scarecrow.

But Harry, she was learning was absolutely full of surprises and he doesn’t do any of those things.

He doesn’t exactly soften but he does something that nearly stops her heart, he puts his hand on the nape of her neck which is a very intimate thing.

“You’re fine. You need to figure out how to control your disorder, it must be miserable living like that twice a year. Go get some sleep now,” Harry rumbles as he administers the lightest squeeze to that spot his hand was on.

YN purrs.

Her eyes widen and she flinched.

“Did you just-?” Harry begins to ask, voice getting rougher.

“Have a good day at the gym and work!” YN squirms out of his hold and hightails it to the bedroom, shutting the door quickly.

On her retreat, she swears that she hears Harry huffs out in a mixture of annoyance and humor, “Silly pup.” ++++++++_

[shirefantasies]

How Thorin’s Company Acts Around Their Crush

Hope all who celebrate had a wonderful Christmas! Since I’ve gotten some requests for The Hobbit characters as well I thought I would start with my usual beginning! Yes I’m repping ALL of them 😤😂 you can imagine the older members’ as taking place when they were younger or not…depends how you like it 🤷🏻‍♀️😂

Balin

✧ As his feelings for you grow, so too does his care for you. As if by magic he always seems to know where you are and what you need. Being more subtle and witty with his feelings, Balin is not the easiest to decipher in terms of intention but you can be damn sure you know he cares.

✧ Shares stories with you, tales of his ancestors or days as a young dwarf roaming the mountain halls, chuckling warmly at your reactions.

✧ There to catch you whenever you fall, hands gently gripping your waist as he asks if you’re all right.

✧ Tells you how much the others like you, especially if those around you are a bit tough about it. Balin hears and sees a lot more in his position so he is quick to reassure you.

✧ “Let me get one last look at you before I go- that’s all the energy I need.”

✧ Balin loves to hear your voice, so his guilty pleasure is asking you to read to him whenever you get a moment’s peace- please indulge him, he’ll be so relaxed and content!

Dwalin

✧ Acts like he's just going along with your ideas or whims, but in reality you're wrapped around his finger and he'll do anything for you, not to mention go anywhere so he can ensure you're protected. The way he always makes jokes for you and shows off in your presence may make it easier to tell how he feels!

✧ Offers you a drink at any opportunity, bringing you a mug or glass of whatever you prefer most, even if it’s just water.

✧ Playfully spars with you if you’re game, complimenting your form and encouraging you to try more daring moves.

✧ Does anything in his power to make you comfortable and stand up for you. The log you’re sitting on is uncomfortable? He stands right up then and there to carve it down. If he sees an orc get a strike in on you you’ll know who’d getting beheaded next.

✧ Laughs at jokes he wouldn’t normally, like if the others tease him Dwalin will probably smack them or snark back, but if you say it he’ll just laugh and roll his eyes, maybe lightly elbow you.

✧ I’m pretty sure it’s both book and movie canon that this man dwarf plays the violin??? So you know he is going to whip it out to impress you! And maybe it’ll make for an excuse to dance and sing together too!

Thorin

✧ Thorin is the sort to orchestrate his entire romance to a T, so you will not be able to decipher his intentions until the exact moment he plans to tell you, and that will take some time getting to know and trust you.

✧ Always moves you behind him when danger strikes, readying himself in a moment to stand in and defend you. If you've been separated, you're the first person he seeks to check on.

✧ “Give me your hand.” Anytime the terrain is rough or you could fall, Thorin takes your hand in his to gently but firmly guide you over/across it.

✧ It’s hard sometimes to defer to others especially with all the pressure of being king, but Thorin is intentionally very considerate with you, asking for your input and following your counsel.

✧ Drapes his coat over your shoulders if he sees you looking cold, his hands lingering a bit longer than necessary…

✧ Rather than tell his story, Thorin prefers to ask yours- he wants to know where you came from and why you care about the things you do. If nothing else he craves a feeling of understanding passing between you two, a deeper relation and connection. He’s not afraid to ask deep questions like if what legacy would you most like to leave behind or the most important character trait in your eyes because his partner needs to share his values and be comfortable with deep discussions.

Oin

✧ His biggest tell is the way he dials up the gentleman act for you and only you, behaving so much more politely and attentively.

✧ Sometimes people don’t take the time to have conversations with him due to his hearing difficulties, so he makes sure to be extremely attentive and show his appreciation whenever you talk to him. Expressive listening and reactions are his specialty!

✧ Having skills as a healer, Oin does anything in his area of expertise to ease your travels, whether it’s pain relief, soothing oils for your muscles, steam treatments for your breathing, etc.

✧ He knows a lot of games, too, so if you’d like Oin would love to sit down and teach you some. If you ever look bored or down he will approach you with cards or dice in hand asking if you’d like to while away some time or thoughts.

✧ In turn, any hobby you have is something he’d be eager to learn about. You like to see? Show him how! You paint? Well, what do you make your paints out of? He wants to find a way to support your joys.

✧ Does silly things behind the others’ backs when only you can see, making fun of them or just shaking his head no if they give bad advice. Acts completely innocent even if they catch you laughing.

Gloin

✧ The ability to speak one's intent and feelings clearly, perhaps even with a bit of poetry, definitely runs in his family 😌 He will pay you the best compliments you've ever heard, leaving you to wonder what wheels are turning in his mind as he speaks them.

✧ Unafraid of telling you how nice your outfit looks on you whether it’s the color or the fit or, as is most likely, both! Tells you, in fact, that you’re more beautiful than any gem he’s ever seen.

✧ Teaches you how to play all his favorite tavern games! Subsequently always asks for you to be his partner at them.

✧ “Oh, you’ve got a little…” Extending a hand, he gently removes a small leaf from your hair, gently brushing it back into place.

✧ Won’t give the others the time of day if you’re talking to him. “Can’t you see I’m talking to them and not you?”

✧ Becomes your designated lifter of heavy objects and opener of difficult things, flexing as he tells you that pretty much everyone comes to him for it (even if it isn’t true) 😌

Bifur

✧ Absolutely becomes a showoff whenever he sees you, especially when he's sparring. You're like an energy of your own, bringing him new vigor and passion to overtake his enemy before he flashes you a smile. It's fairly obvious what he's doing, but you can't deny its effectiveness.

✧ Gets you familiar with his signs so he can spill the tea about the others when they aren’t looking 👀

✧ Elbows you lightly to get your attention, then waves at you or wiggles his eyebrows teasingly when you peer at him.

✧ Strings together some beads he has on hand along with some pretty rocks that he found to make you a little necklace or bracelet! Looks so proud as he holds it up for you too 🥺

✧ Gives it his all in every fight where you’re in harm’s way too because it’s not just about him making it out anymore.

✧ Sharpens your weapons for you without you even having to ask 😌

Bofur

✧ Bofur is incredibly sweet around the one who draws his attention, always smiling when you look his way and address him and always laughing at your jokes. His actions could be seen as just friendly but he's incredibly generous and giving around you which is a bit of a tell.

✧ Starts breaking touch barriers! Just with little things like resting a hand on your shoulder as he teases you or expresses sympathy, offering a helping hand to stand back up, or taking your hand or wrist to look at your jewelry.

✧ Yours is the first hand he reaches for when Bofur starts up a song and dance. He holds you so gently but twirls you so eagerly, a smile on his face for you the whole time!

✧ Hype man. Believes in you like it’s a given- of course you look amazing, go on, you can do it, don’t be scared, they’ll love it. In his words, “Don’t dull that great shine you’ve got.”

✧ Sharing little running jokes is his favorite. Whether you two were the only ones to catch another company member say something ridiculous or Bofur was the one you shared a certain story or fact with, he loves those little points of connection and will never let them die.

✧ Loves to take care of you, so when you’re seated together at meals he’ll load your plate and pour your drink for you- you won’t have to do a single thing but enjoy your time!

Bombur

✧ Such a quiet sweetheart! You may not be able to tell he likes you because he's so subtle with his little gifts and waves sent your way, but he's always asking about you and trying to show he cares.

✧ Lets you sneak tastes of whatever he’s making even though he’d usually smack their hand away 🥰 Also he always serves you first at the end of the day and gives you the best bit of whatever he's made! And if you're a lady, he always says “ladies first” with the sweetest smile ☺️

✧ The absolute best if you get anxiety, like he will learn exactly what is best to do for you whether it’s breathing, words, serving as a living weighted blanket for you, a phrase or sensory experience, you name it! He just wants to see you smile again 🥺

✧ Quietly leaves you flowers by your bedroll when you aren’t around, just little surprises to bring a smile to your face at day’s end.

✧ Bombur has the most hilarious theories about how he thinks he can predict the weather, so rather than have you ask Gandalf he’ll explain them all in depth until you’ve got stitches in your sides from laughing.

✧ If you break touch barriers, expect the most shocked, happy :o face from him followed by a smile that slowly grows more and more lovestruck.

Dori

✧ Another case of 'could be interpreted as friendly', Dori practically fawns over you to make sure you're comfortable and have everything you need, but because he's a big brother it can come across like his natural sibling instinct.

✧ Anyone who bothers you gets the biggest scolding of their life- watch out!

✧ Making tea is his love/connection language. He'll offer to make you a cuppa if you're cold, stressed, need some energy, you name it and he'll do it for you!

✧ Practically shushes everyone to get your opinion when a ruckus emerges over some company decision or another, making some creative excuse why you have sway over it.

✧ Dori is definitely the sort to always check in and make sure you ate and got a drink too, always getting certain you’re keeping up your strength and care for yourself.

✧ Invites you to take walks with him when he wants fresh air and time away from his brothers, just the two of you enjoying nature and some one-on-one chatting and laughter.

Nori

✧ Shameless flirt! You'll know by the way his eyes travel up and down, by the way he smiles and approaches you, by his complete and utter lack of fear in complimenting and teasing you.

✧ Probably hits you with a pickup line as one of your first interactions, seeing you and immediately stepping in with the 'what's someone like you doing in a place like this'.

✧ Naturally he always volunteers to pair up with you on watches or lookout duty…just to make sure you’re safe, you know!

✧ Tells maybe, just possibly, exaggerated stories of his feats of heroism…or just gambling, whichever.

✧ One hundred percent the one who tries the old ‘yawn and put your arm around them’ trick one night by the fire or on watch.

✧ If his exploration leads him somewhere interesting you’re the first one he’ll be pulling over to check it out with him, pride written all over his face at your amazed reaction!

Ori

✧ He's so shy and polite around you that you can't help but wonder if his flustered state and smiles are connected to you. He also gets clumsier, suddenly walking into things and dropping them. What can be said, you just have an effect on him 😉

✧ Always points out animals he sees on your travels because he knows you like looking at them. Will sketch you pictures of your favorites so you can carry them with you!

✧ “Ooh, ooh! Sit with me!” *proceeds to not know what to say or do with himself once you get there*

✧ Knits for you, whether you request a scarf or gloves or a hat Ori will make it for you. “Here. This’ll keep you nice and warm,” he tells you as he passes it over, smiling sweetly as your hands brush.

✧ Tries to replicate anyone else’s feats. Fili threw a knife and hit a bullseye? Well watch this. Bifur balanced three bowls on his head? Care to see Ori do four? And if he doesn’t, please don’t laugh too much!

✧ Asks your favorite everything, like what flower you like the best, what meal you enjoy most, what’s your favorite color. Your favorite flower will forever make Ori think of you, and in fact it becomes his muse. He dedicated two whole pages to pressing and sketching them, one for him to keep and one for you!

Fili

✧ Epitome of 'if he teases you, he likes you'. Always shooting you jokes and smoothly grabbing your attention to show you things. Fili just gets a twinkle in his eye around you and his behavior clues you in.

✧ Teaches you the best way to throw knives, standing behind you to help you get the best angle 😏 asks if you’d like to give a name to the one you do the best with!

✧ Such a great listener. Goes full-on chin in hand just watching your animation intently, nodding and smiling as you speak.

✧ Struggle with something in Fili’s sight and you’ll never lift a finger at it again. He swoops right in to help you, always reassuring you it’s no big deal at all.

✧ Opens his arms immediately if you’re stressed or grieving, offering a warm, comforting embrace. He gives amazing hugs, too, a hand sliding soothingly up and down your back as he pulls you in.

✧ Trips and falls in front of you, but saves it by saying he lost his footing because you were so stunning 💁🏻‍♀️

Kili

✧ If he teases you he likes you part two. He also shamelessly flirts by winking at you and doing anything in his power to hear you laugh, so you'll be able to see what's up pretty quickly.

✧ He has a habit of taking things to see if you notice, just small things like if you leave your comb sitting out or lay down your weapon to go talk to someone, he'll snatch it up and hold onto it to see how long it takes! "Just keeping it warm for you ;)"

✧ Takes it upon himself to teach you archery or help you practice, making lots of corrections to your stance, especially with guiding hands on your hips 👀

✧ One night Kili has a coin perched on his hand. “Heads or tails?” You call your guess, and as luck you call it correctly. “Well, that means you get to sit with me tonight,” Kili replies with a wink.

✧ If you don’t mind it, he’ll probably end up giving you some sort of nickname, whether it’s based on some sort of inside joke or just something you like or remind him of.

✧ Conversations he’s involved in quickly involve you, too, as Kili can find a reason to think of you amidst even the most mundane topics.

Bilbo

✧ He isn't flustered around you, but he behaves with a certain awkward consternation that you wonder at. If you have a tougher time reading others like me, you might think he's just plain studying you, confused even, but in truth he is hyperfocusing on every little part of your interactions!

✧ The type to always stick by you, making sure he's the one seated next to you at mealtimes and placed next to you at the campfire.

✧ “Perhaps we ought to hold hands? Just to keep together. After all, it’s quite crowded out here.”

✧ Being introverted as he is, a big sign of Bilbo’s care for you is the way he approaches your time together- even at the end of the day he will still come to you, making it clear time together with you recharges. It equates to ‘me time’, which is big for him.

✧ Asks a lot of questions about your home, the cultures you come from and languages you speak. Bookish as he is, Bilbo will undertake learning your other language(s) and trying to bring pieces of your home right to you!

✧ “So, have you ever… you know, thought about settling down someday? After all this is over.”

[ponderingmoonlight]

Quiet mornings with Shigure Sohma

Pairing: Shigure x reader

Word Count: 1,4k

Synopsis: While you're surrounded by mess and trouble all day, you can't help but enjoy those mornings with none other than Shigure.

Warnings: the fic no one asked for, I fell for fruits basket so hard that you guys are forced to read my trash now hehe, fluff over fluff

The weather outside is soft today. Not warm, not cold, just enough of something in-between to make the morning feel cozy. You’re sitting cross-legged on the floor like you always do, sunlight pooling across your lap, your hands holding a ceramic mug of tea. The house feels quiet with all the kids gone, without Tohru’s soft voice and the boys fighting over nonsense. But that peace, you know, is an illusion. Or, at the very least, a temporary state.

Because Shigure Soma is never quiet for long.

Right on cue, there’s a shuffle of feet against the floorboards, and then his voice - a melodious hum that could belong to someone much less chaotic.

“My darling,” he calls, the sing-song lilt of his tone already filled with teasing.

“How rude of you to start your morning without me. My feelings are positively shattered!”

You tilt your head just enough to see him standing in the doorway, one hand pressed theatrically to his chest as though wounded. His yukata is draped carelessly over his shoulders, the belt knotted loosely at his waist. His hair is a little messy, and he hasn’t yet shaved the faint stubble on his jaw. But the sight of him - rumpled, relaxed, utterly himself -makes warmth bloom in your chest anyway.

“Shigure,” you say with an exasperated smile, “it’s past ten. I’m not going to wait forever for you to wake up.”

He gasps as though you’ve just insulted his ancestors.

“Ah, how cold-hearted my sweet muse is! If you loved me, surely you’d have brought me breakfast in bed-”

“I made tea,” you interrupt, raising your mug pointedly.

“And there’s toast in the kitchen. If you want anything else, you’re on your own.”

He pouts, but there’s a glint in his eyes that tells you he’s not offended in the slightest. He never is, really. Shigure’s ego might be gigantic, but it’s not fragile. If anything, he seems to flourish on your chit-chat, your little refusals lightening up his mood even more. It’s a dance the two of you have perfected, a rhythm of soft blows and exaggerated reactions that always ends in laughter.

Shigure pads across the room and lowers himself to sit beside you, far closer than necessary. You feel the brush of his knee against yours, the gentle press of his arm as he leans in, peering at your face with open curiosity.

“And what, pray tell, are you thinking about so deeply, hmm? You’ve got that faraway look again.”

His voice is quieter now, softer. You don’t miss the way his eyes linger on you, their usual playfulness tempered by something more genuine.

You hesitate, caught off-guard.

“I’m not… really thinking about anything,” you reply, though it’s not entirely true.

There’s always something brewing in your mind: a stray memory, a half-formed plan, the ever-present hum of life’s what-ifs. How are you supposed to enjoy the present with the past and future weighing down on you this heavily? But explaining those things feels impossible, so you simply shrug.

“Just enjoying the quiet, I guess.”

Shigure hums thoughtfully, tilting his head as if to examine you from a different angle. His dark eyes are warm, patient, even as his lips twitch with the beginnings of another grin.

“Ah, yes. You’ve been enchanted by my humble house. It’s no wonder you’ve fallen for me so completely.”

You roll your eyes while taking a brief look at the destroyed shoji, don’t bother moving away when he rests his head against your shoulder. His hair tickles your cheek, and you can smell the faint trace of his shampoo. Definitely something light and floral. Did he use yours again?

“You’re insufferable,” you murmur, but there’s no real bite in your words.

Your free hand comes up almost instinctively to comb through his hair, smoothing out some of the more unruly strands. He hums again, this time in obvious ease.

“You’re so good to me. “Really, I don’t deserve such a kind, gentle soul.”

You snort, flicking his ear lightly.

“That’s the first truthful thing you’ve said all morning.”

Shigure doesn’t respond right away, but you feel him shift, his weight settling more fully against your side. It’s a little unbalanced, but you don’t mind. His presence is warm, comforting against the sometimes harsh reality. And though he’s quiet now, you can sense the wheels turning in his head, the way his mind is always spinning with something - mischief, poetry, or the occasional genuine thought he’ll tuck away for safekeeping.

It’s in moments like this that you’re reminded of the duality of Shigure Sohma. He’s a mystery wrapped in jokes and half-truths, a man who wears his whimsy like armor but lets it slip when he’s close enough to trust. And though he can be infuriating, there’s a softness to him as well, a tenderness that he rarely shows but always carries.

“I like this,” he comments suddenly, his voice low enough that you almost miss it.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t look at you, but you can feel the weight of his words settle in the space between you.

“Like what?” you ask quietly.

“This.”

He gestures vaguely, his hand brushing yours where it rests on the floor.

“The mornings with you. The quiet. The way you let me bother you without pushing me away.”

There’s a smile in his tone while his breath caresses your skin gently, but it’s faint, almost self-conscious.

You blink, taken aback. Shigure is rarely so direct, so open. When was the last time he talked this seriously with you, let alone with his voice this muted? You don’t quite know what to say, but you feel something shift in your chest, a fluttering warmth, soft and fragile.

“I like it too,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Even when you’re being a nuisance.”

That earns you a chuckle, low and rich. Shigure lifts his head to look at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that makes him look far younger, far happier. He doesn’t say anything, but his gaze lingers, warm and steady, as though committing you to memory.

For a moment, the two of you simply sit there, the world fading into the background. The sunlight shifts, casting patterns across the floorboards, and the faint scent of tea and spring air fills the room. It’s the kind of moment that feels fragile, like it could shatter if you so much as breathe too loudly. You can’t help but allow your eyes to rest for a moment, to take in the calmness of the moment.

But then Shigure sighs dramatically, breaking the spell.

“Ah, I suppose I’ll have to go hunt for food if I want to survive this cruel, neglectful treatment.”

You laugh, the sound light and unrestrained.

“There’s toast in the kitchen. You’re so dramatic”, you remind him again, shaking your head.

“And yet you adore me,” he remarks, pushing himself to his feet with exaggerated effort.

He stretches, his yukata slipping slightly from one shoulder, and you catch the briefest glimpse of his collarbone before he adjusts it. A man looking this good with that cheeky mouth…How is your stay here supposed to end in a good way?

“Maybe I do,” you reply without thinking.

The words slip out way too easily, carried by the warmth in your chest and the sight in front of you.

Shigure freezes, his hand halfway to his hair. For a moment, you think you’ve gone too far, that you’ve somehow crossed an invisible line. Does he feel uncomfortable, insulted even? But then he turns, his expression unreadable, and you feel your breath catch.

“Careful, my dear,” he murmurs, his voice low and almost teasing.

There’s a flicker of something else in his eyes. something softer, more vulnerable. Something you’ve never caught before in his gaze. For a moment, time seems to stand still, your breath gets stuck in your throat.

“I might just take you seriously.”

You hold his gaze, the words lingering in the air between you. And though your heart is racing, you manage a small, steady smile.

“Maybe you should.”

[bamsywrites]

And Comes Dawn part vi

Ships: sauron/halbrand x reader, Galadriel x Halbrand, galadriel and reader DO NOT LIKE EACH OTHER AT ALL (yet), reader x ?????

Summary: some unwanted feelings bubble to the surface.

Tags: angst ish, reader gets mad, insecurities, the love triangles are officially starting, saurons pov next part is gonna be intense after some of this stuff.

Notes: this one might be meh, I wasn't able to edit much and my mind is kinda mush. The secret third ship is revealed. I'm also adding too, extending, and overall changing some of the numenor stuff. Again it's my fanfiction, I can do what I want

It wasn't long before bright light filled the room, you and your companions heading to the deck of the ship. You squinted as your eyes adjusted to the bright light of the sun and the blue of the sky. You saw the ship captain and spoke before anyone else, “Thank you, sir.

He nodded simply in a silent acceptance of your words, his attention turning to Galadriel. The two exchanged words, and you were resisting the urge to roll your eyes. You didn't like the elf. She seemed to think herself better and more worthy of sorrow. You could tell she looked down on you, fueling anger inside your stomach. Anger and annoyance were both feelings that you avoided at all costs. Your father's anger had been great and tragic. You didn't want to tempt the fates by letting your own go unchecked. This elf made it hard to feel anything but those feelings.

“Nearly where?” Halbrand asked, his voice was what brought you from your thoughts, he was trying to get an answer as to where they were going.

“Home,” the ship captain answered.

“Well that tells me fuck all,” he said softly so only your ears could hear.

“Halbrand.” You gave him a look.

“Sweet one,” he teased, returning the look.

Before you could reply, the words dried on your lips as you saw great stone faces carved into rock in stunning detail. You moved closer to the edge to get a better look. The hard work and detail on the face of the mountain was incredible. You were even more stunned by the giant carving above the city, almost as though it was watching over and protecting the city beneath.

“I've never seen anything like this,” you whispered softly.

“What is this place?” Halbrand asked Galadriel.

“There's only one place it could be, the island kingdom of Númenor.”

-

You looked at the buildings, the architecture, the people. It was all fascinating, as if there was no poverty or hunger. The buildings were gorgeous, breathtaking in the ways they were built, and you'd never imagined anything like this in your wildest dreams. A small part of you began to hope that you could stay here and not return home.

“I never imagined a man like me could build a kingdom like this.”

“Because these aren't men like you, your ancestors sided with Morgoth. Theirs sided with the elves, and the Valar blessed them for it. Though elves have not been welcomed on these shores for many years.”

“I wonder why someone would choose to deny you entry into their city,” the words dripped with sarcasm as they slipped past your lips before you could stop them.

A bark-like laugh filled the air before Halbrand stopped himself, clearing his throat and wiping at his mouth to hide his smile.

“Perhaps you wonder, but I know why you'd be denied entry,” Galadriel had stopped to look at you, as if daring you to say something more.

“My reasons are but one, and it is for someone else's sins. Yours would be for being an arrogant, insufferable..-”

“Let's keep going, shall we,” Halbrand placed a hand on your shoulder, and Galadriel opened her mouth to say more when the ship captain hurried them along.

When she was a few steps ahead of you. Halbrand started laughing again, softer this time. “Perhaps, sweet one doesn't suit you well after all.”

You huffed a sigh, “I should not have said that, I know.”

“I will forever sit and ponder how you were going to end that sentence,” he teased with a twinkle to his eye.

Butterflies stirred in your stomach as you looked back up into his eyes, a hint of a smile pulling at your lips.

“You must promise me, sweet one, not to provoke the angry elf. Can you do that?”

You nodded, but he cocked an eyebrow. “Use your words,” his voice was soft and a little husky as if he might have been enjoying this exchange more than he let on, “I want to hear you say it.”

“Halbrand, I promise not to provoke the angry elf,” you said in all but a whisper.

“Good girl,” he pressed a kiss to the top of your head before continuing the journey.

~

“If blood is the price to pay to leave this place, I will pay it.”

You noticed the guards moving closer, your eyes darting to the queen for her response to this threat. Galadriel was going to get you killed at this rate. Without thinking, your hand found Halbrands, lacing your fingers with his, and he squeezed your hand as if to reassure you before he spoke.

He was very well spoken, very convincing. He could command the attention of all in the room with his words. It was impressive, and in the end, they granted you 3 weeks. You hated the sense of satisfaction you had felt when they mocked Galadriel. You were sure there was a reason she was the way she was, but thinking she's better than the mortal races or more entitled to grief would never cease to fill you with anger.

“You were rather good at that,” you turned to Halbrand with a relieved smile on your face.

“Just be glad I'm not your enemy,” he responded with a wink, squeezing your hand that was still tangled with his before he followed the elf.

You found the ship captain once more, “I would like to offer my most sincere thanks. I will forever be in your debt.”

He smiled softly at you, looking at you as only a father could. “I did what was right. I am glad you will find some respite in our great city. If you are to need anything, I have a daughter about your age and I'm sure she has dress and other niceties to spare. Take these, though,” he placed some coins in your hands, “to aid you in whatever ways you may need.”

“I appreciate that very much.” He was a good man, you could tell it. Of good heart and strong character. He had dismissed himself politely, and you looked for your companions.

Your eyes landed on them atop the stairs. You didn't know what they were talking about but they were close. He seemed to be earnestly defending something, you knew not what, and she seemed to be arguing against it. Just as the conversation seemed to be closing, you saw as he pulled her closer to him with that smirk and sparkle in his eyes and suddenly it all came crashing down on you.

What if you weren't special? What if you read too much into it? What if he was like this with everyone?

Or perhaps you were special, but she was just more than anything you could be. She was a beautiful elf, a commander of armies, and what were you?

The daughter of a disgraced mass murder who had yet to do anything of significance.

Your lip started trembling. Perhaps you were too sensitive, but it felt as if your heart was breaking. Did you really have such strong feelings after a week? Perhaps you had been more interested in him. Perhaps you'd allowed your feelings to become too intense when his had not. And perhaps you only thought he'd been looking that way at you.

You found your feet carrying you outside of the palace. You weren't the one that was confined to the grounds, and there was no reason for you to stay. You thought you heard a voice calling after you, but you did not care. You wanted away and to be on your own to think. To figure out what you want for the future. To figure out your feelings to figure out your plans for the next 3 weeks.

~

You sat on a bench in some courtyard, eyes watching as the sun dipped below the waves. It was nice to watch, a beautiful sight, especially now that night didn't bring worries of being cold or being attacked. For the first time in what seemed forever, you would have a place to sleep that wasn't rocking back and forth. Your stomach was growling. It was starting to gnaw at your stomach, but you didn't want to get the stares from the locals. You knew you weren't entirely welcome. So, instead, you sat and watched the sunset until it made its way beneath the waves, and the only light was that of the fires and torches. Your eyes wondered, examining the amazing architecture. It's what you had been doing all day as a way to avoid the insecurities in your head and heart.

A group of boys about your age had drawn your attention,their laughter was boisterous and almost contagious. You were reminded of what little pleasures you'd lost due to the orc attacks; laughing with friends was one of them. You were grateful to see it amongst others and know that it still exists. You must have caught one of their attention somehow because he excused himself, telling his friends to go on without him before coming to sit with you.

“I…sorry I didn't mean to pull you away from your group. I'm just…”

“You're one of the newcomers. One of 3 that arrived today, yes?” He asked curiously, and you nodded.

“You match the description that was given. You seem a little lost," He smiled warmly at you. It was genuine, you could tell. He wanted to help you if you were to need it.

“I am, I admit, but I've enjoyed getting lost here. Your home is gorgeous. We don't have architecture anywhere near this in my homeland, the Southlands. It's remarkable.”

He chuckled softly, looking around him, “This isn't even the best the city has to offer.”

“That is impossible.”

He laughed again, shaking his head. “It is entirely possible, I assure you.”

You couldn't help but smile. He was full of energy, but at the same time, it was calming. It was easy to talk to him because he felt relaxed and relatable.

“There must be art and architecture where you're from. There has to be.”

You shook your head, “not like it is here. It would be like comparing a master swordsman to children whacking each other with sticks. We have wood carvings and some words engraved in stone but nothing like a whole, giant person carved in stone. Our cities are just wood or brick. It's not carved out like this. This is all incredible.”

“There has to be beauty, though,” he pressed his tongue into his cheek as if he wanted to say something else. “I have a lot of questions about your home. I've never left this island."

“There is beauty, yes. In the trees, in the green of the grass. In autumn, the trees turn red and orange, and they look beautiful at dusk.”

“So, there's beauty in the trees, in the leaves, in the women…” he watched you for a moment. You couldn't help but giggle at the comment.

“That was horrible, wasn't it?” He asked, looking down at his hands but laughing softly as he did.

“A little bit, but the compliment is very appreciated,” You stopped giggling and placed a hand on his knee.

“It sounded so much more clever in my head,” he chuckled with a shake of his head.

“My name’s Isildur. My father was the ship captain who saved you. I would like to buy you dinner as a way to say sorry for that horrendous comment I just made. "

You gave him your name with a large grin that made your cheeks hurt, “And I would love that, as long as you promise to tell me more about your kingdom.”

“It's a deal.”

[ghouldump]

Hiii i love your writing 🫶🏼🫶🏼

If youre open for requests i was wondering if you could maybe write a lestat x siren or mermaid reader?

I hope you have a lovely day, please exuse my bad english

Fallen | Lestat De Lioncourt x Mermaid!Reader

ෆ princess of demacia, a marine kingdom is temporarily banished. she refuses to conform to the standard, being a heartless killer. wandering the water, she finds herself in new orleans, where she meets a vampire.

your english is awesome! i liked this idea and i hope you enjoy what i came up with, it’s giving little mermaid x twilight crossover 😭

"I don't understand," you said, swimming behind your father.

"Y/n, mermaids do not intermingle with humans," King Zale, your father, found you talking to your pet fish. He at first, only intended to simply scold you because you were supposed to be training, until he heard your conversation. You explained how you didn't want to mate with any of the mermen and how you'd been to the surface, studying human men.

"Why not?" you questioned.

"Because that's the way things are, you do not need to be with people, who have for over a millennial, hunted and killed our ancestors, and do not speak of these feelings to anyone. Do you understand?”

"Yes Father," you agreed, following him, as he brought you to the surface.

"Watch your sister,” he pointed, observing your older sister, Nerissa. She peeked from out of the water, in front of the human man, who was fishing on the small boat.

Immediately, she sang to him, as he stared, mesmerized. Leaning over the boat, she kept singing come closer, until he fell out of the boat. Then, before he could blink, she began to drown him. He flailed around, but she only dragged him deeper.

Feeling a knot in your stomach, you watched as she tortured the man, before her other half, Luca, joined her, and together, they ripped at his flesh.

Merfolk could eat humans, but you preferred your sea vegetation.

"Soon, you will have your turn," your father said, placing his hand on your shoulder.

Your first kill was between the ages 16-19 depending on how ready the elders thought you were. You were already 15, and you knew now, that you did not want to have to kill anyone, let alone enjoy watching the others commit the act.

As the man eventually went limp, they let his body sink. The other sea creatures, that were willing, wrestled for the flesh.

"Come now," he said, swimming away, as the two began to perform the partnership ritual.

The humans called their other half spouses, and their rituals, sex. The ceremonial ritual was when, your partner, who was chosen by the elders, and you would mate, becoming one, with each other and the water.

You overheard your brother, Arista, say these things, being one of the only merfolk granted permission, to go to the land. It was a painful process, the breaking of your bones, separating your fins until you looked completely human. He described it as the most unbearable thing ever felt.

Your future other half was Rory, although, you couldn't stand the sight of him. He was 16, and already had his first kill, making many of the older merfolk hold him in high regard. He loved the thrill of the humans thrashing under his tight hold, constantly bragging every time he was around you. You were due to mate at 18, and he reminded you of what was to come every time he was around.

"I am serious Y/n, I don't want to ever hear you speak such vile things ever again," he tells you, before swimming to the palace.

"Yes father" you mumbled.

"Princess Y/n, I've been looking for you all morning," your teacher, Bardo, stressed. He was only twenty-three, slim, his curls flowing freely past his shoulders.

You sighed, allowing him to drag you back off to the reef. Your only training was to become a murderer. Your father was four hundred years old, and once he passed, the throne would be given to your eldest brother, Ari, who was already one hundred and fifteen. Together, you had thirteen siblings, and you were the youngest.

"Now, princess, let me hear your song," he tells you.

"Actually, I was hoping we could talk about Kaia," you said, watching as his fins began to flicker nervously.

"Fine, but then we'll practice your song," he says, as he begins telling you all about his meeting with Kaia, his chosen other half. They liked each other already, and it was only their third time meeting. You didn't care too much, but it was an easy way of getting out of training.

"Oh, I've let the time pass us by," Bardo said, finally stopping his rambling, realizing you hadn't trained at all today.

"It is fine, you seem to like Kaia, I hope it all goes well," you said quickly swimming away.

"Thank you, princess," he called out to you. Smiling gleefully, you sped up, happy to be free from the pressures of killing some innocent person. Closing your eyes briefly, you slam into a body.

"Sor-sorry big brother," you said, looking down, as Ari frowned at you.

“I heard you missed most of your teachings"

"It wasn't on purpose brother," you pouted.

"It doesn't matter-

"Mother said dinner is ready" Wade, your other brother said, swimming past the two of you.

"Stay on top of your training, because you wouldn't want to disappoint your family, would you?" he asked, his voice filled with authority.

"No, big brother" you whimpered.

"Good"

"You have no choice but to be ready," your father says, pulling you into a hug.

You were now 19, and the elders had held off on forcing you to have your first kill, but you were getting much older.

"Is she ready?" Rory asked on the other side of the door.

Opening the door, he backed away, his eyes fixated on you. The elders were making him come with you, not only to make sure you completed your test, but after you would have to mate with him, whether you wanted to or not.

"Beautiful," he says proudly.

"Thank you," you mumbled, seeing Ari glare at you. Telling everyone you'd see them later, you swim off with Rory. Treading behind him, you stayed close, as he made turns, slithering through the caves. Until you both got close to where the humans swam. Daylight radiating into the ocean, and you could feel the sound waves, of their music.

"I will be over there," he tells you, as he swims into the seaweed.

Rising to the surface, you peek, seeking your victim. If you could at least get past your first kill, everyone would stop being so stern around you. Immediately, you notice him. It was a boy, who looked around your age. He sat on the edge of a wooden pavement, with his legs crossed, reading. Going back under, you swim, until you're close to him.

Only raising your head above the water, you begin singing to the boy, before he could scream or scurry away. Extending your hand, you allow him to grab hold, as he jumps into the water with you, still hypnotized.

Swimming backward, you slowly moved underwater. Still singing, the both of you maintain eye contact, until you heard it. You could hear his heartbeat, it became slower, showing he was running out of breath. Stopping your song, he snaps out of it.

Realizing what was in front of him, he began to panic, moving around trying to get to the surface. Taking note of the expression of fear he held, as well as what radiated from his body, you couldn't continue. Grabbing his arm, you swam to the surface, as he gasped for air.

As he caught his breath, he swam backward, away from you, terrified of the sight in front of him. Your dark hair, grayish blue skin, pale eyes, razor-sharp teeth, and nails. Moving away, he bumped into Rory, who looked at the boy as if he were one of the bottom feeders of the water.

The mermen didn't have a song to sing but were much more aggressive and stronger than the mermaids. Grabbing the boy, he dragged him deep into the water. You tried swimming behind, but Rory was much faster than you, one of the fastest. It was pointless screaming out to the boy, humans didn't understand the merfolk languages.

By the time you made it to them, Rory had already ripped out the young boy's heart, and now let his body sink into the dark trenches.

"What were you doing," Rory asked you darkly.

"I couldn't do it," you confessed, as you both moved away, seeing the sharks drawing near to the smell of the blood.

"The elders won't be too pleased to know you failed unless I keep your little secret," he says, swimming circles around you.

"You would do that Rory?" you asked, hopeful.

"Of course, as your other half, but only if you hold up your end," he says, trailing his hand down your fin on your back. Sharply turning, you held in your glare.

"I'm not ready Rory," you tell him, and the grin that once played on his face dropped.

"When will you be ready? I already waited a year longer than I had to"

"I don't know, I can't do this," you said.

"Fine, have it your way," he said, grabbing your hair, and holding tight to you, as he swam back to the palace, rushing the throne room door open.

"How was the..test?"

"How was the...test" your brother, Arista, asked awkwardly.

Slinging you to the floor, Rory panted, looking down at you in pure anger and hatred.

"I want a new mate," he announces to the elders.

"What happened?" your father, King Zale, asked.

"This pathetic excuse-

"Watch your tone," your second eldest brother, Mari spoke, staring darkly at the merman.

"She failed...she didn't kill the human, she almost helped him escape the water. Then, she refuses to mate" Rory explained.

Deep in thought, your father, and the elders exchanged looks before turning to you.

"Is this all true Y/n?" your mother, Serena, asked. dropping your head, you nodded, causing her to gasp at you. Meeting their eyes, all of them looked at you with either disappointment or sadness, except Mari. He never looked down on you for your beliefs, he just saw you as his little sister.

"Speak," Ari said.

"Yes, I failed. Seeing his face as his life drained from him, I felt like a monster" you confessed, crying in your hands.

"Go to your room, and do not come out unless you are called," your father said, as you swam away.

Leaving to go the the left side of the palace, where your room resided - you noticed the whispers, and snickers from the other merfolk, as they watched you. They probably all heard what happened.

As you got into your room, you sat at your counter, depressingly organizing your shells. You leisurely reorganized your entire room, until darkness fell upon the ocean. When there was a knock on your door, Ari opened the door.

"Come with me," is all he said.

Choosing to not say anything, you quietly follow behind your brother, as he brings you to the outskirts of Demacia. There stood all thirteen of your siblings, your parents, and the elders.

"Y/n, you are getting one last chance at your first kill, if you do not succeed, then you will face judgment," your father said.

Swimming to the surface, Nerissa volunteers to help you, to make things much easier. She finds the kill, luring him into the water, and just as he begins to thrash, everyone intensely watches you. You saw the pain on his face, shame, and pain clouded your mind.

"I…I can't," you cried.

Sighing, Nerissa snaps his neck, letting him sink. Watching in horror, as his eyes stayed open, hollow of life.

"Since you couldn't perform this simple task, I grant you judgment...you are to be banished from Demacia. perhaps a few years alone will give you the realization that is needed. You are to leave, immediately," your father says angrily, swimming away, Ari and the elders following behind.

As your mother and siblings, stayed behind, about to say goodbye, your father stopped, turning around.

"Everyone back to the palace, now. She doesn't deserve a proper goodbye," he continued, rushing away. Looking back at you, grimacing, Mari spoke.

"Goodbye, little sister"

Alone, grieving, sorrowful - all words that describe you. You aimlessly wandered the ocean for the next five months. Hiding from creatures that could potentially kill you, or collecting trinkets you found along the way. Sadly, you couldn't keep up with consistently finding vegetation, so you turned to eating fish as well.

Your appearance changed drastically, your once slender figure, was now curvier, and more meaty. Your full hair grew to your waistline, and your breasts, although hardly visible were bigger than before.

After traveling for months, you were certain you were far from home. The water, which was cold, or usually lukewarm, in your home, was now inconsistent, hot on some days, cool on others.

As you swam forward, you noticed a wooded pole along the water, letting you know, that humans lived nearby.

Swim forward in the water. Even underwater, you could hear that humans were close. The sound waves of them, playing music, laughing, moving their bodies, you could hear it all. Going further down, you stayed there until it grew quiet. There had been plenty of fish and vegetation, it was perfect, wherever you were.

Rising to the surface, no one could be seen, making you sigh in relief, coming up more. You could see a civilization not far off, around you, was strangely snapped wood, you remembered they were called boats. Then you got an idea, you could try to go on land.

Jumping from the water, you made a noise, falling into the boat. Taking your hands, your grip the foreign material underneath yourself. Suddenly, your throat felt like it was tightening like it was being crushed. Gasping, trying to breathe, you turned to reach for the water, but it seemed to be too far.

Next, you felt a burning pain rushing through your body, as if it was breaking. You found yourself uncontrollably squirming, as you heard the sound of your own bones cracking. Your tail, felt as if it was being ripped apart. Which it was, to a certain extent, creating your own pair of human legs. Screaming in agony, you clawed the sides of the boat.

After it was over, you panted, able to breathe, but only taking short breaths, to save oxygen. Pushing yourself up, you stood, stepping onto the dock. Wobbling at first, you tried to find balance, before bending your knees, then standing up straight.

Smiling gleefully, you walked around in circles, your walk was funny compared to how humans walked, but you would eventually get the hang of it. Walking towards the civilization, you stopped, The scent hit your nose, making you look up. Letting your feet move, following the scent, you eventually found the source. Flesh, you were smelling burning flesh, inside some dark machinery.

The sun radiating on you, you reach to cover your face, but never moved. It felt nice against your skin, much different than the warmth it brought in water. Looking down, you felt dizzy, before blacking out.

As soon as the moon graced the night sky, Lestat woke up, full of energy. Quickly, he left, meeting with his close friend, Louis. He had recently become his maker but they soon realized they were better off as friends. Continuing their usual hunting, and conversations, platonically.

Finding and draining the indigent men, they carried the bodies to the incinerator. Entering the backyard, they shared a look, seeing the nude woman sleeping in the grass.

Sensing the presence of something unknown, you opened your eyes and were on your feet in an instant, you went to run, but the man appeared in front of you.

“Not so fast,” he smirked, walking towards you.

Hissing at him, he lunged forward, biting into your neck, but quickly moved away, spitting.

“What?” Louis asked, confused.

“Her blood, she isn't human, it tastes like fish,” he gagged, dramatically.

Holding your neck, you backed away from the two, breaking off into a sprint, running to the docks, and jumping into the water, your body twitching rapidly. Your fins ripping through your skin, tail reconnecting. Hoping they were gone, barely peeking out, they looked down at you.

“Hey, come on out, my friend didn't mean no harm, biting you,” the other man spoke, while the culprit simply stared at you, with his arms crossed. Louis, extended his hand, wanting to help you out of the water, but you simply went back under.

“Whatever she is, we should leave her,�� Lestat shrugged.

“No, look,” he pointed, both of them rushing to the dock.

You lifted yourself onto the wood, going through the painful process, again, the two men watching, completely astonished. Shakily, you stood up, in front of them.

"Wow," the nice one said, while the other man looked away.

"I think she's a mermaid, those exist too?" he exclaimed again, examining your fin, that broke off.

"I guess, I wouldn't have known," Lestat mumbled.

"You're not even looking, " Louis told him, as Lestat took off his coat.

"She was just a giant fish and now she is naked, it's hard to ignore that," Lestat says, approaching you.

"Put this on," he told you, handing you the coat.

Staring at the jacket, you wrapped the sleeves around your waist, as if it was an apron. Groaning, Lestat takes back the coat, placing it on you, looking at the ground, to avoid looking at your perky breast.

"Are there others like you?" he asked you, finally looking into your eyes, but you only stared at him.

"Maybe she doesn't speak english," Lous said, walking closer as well.

"Parlez-vous français ?" Lestat asked, making you tilt your head in confusion at him.

"I don't think she understands that either”

“I'm Lestat, this is Louis," he tells you slowly, as you look at both men.

“Would you like to come with us?” Louis asked, holding out his hand, smiling as you hesitantly accepted it.

"Sit,” Lestat said, but you remained awkwardly standing.

Lightly pulling your arm, Louis led you to the loveseat to sit.

"What is your name?" Lestat asked, walking in front of you. Staring at you, he reached to touch where he bit you. However, out of fear you jumped back, hissing at him, now on guard.

"My apologies, I assumed you were human," he told you, putting his hands up.

Backing away, he leaned on the table, crossing his arms, staring at you.

"Do you understand us?" Louis asked, as you nodded.

"Okay, you understand, can you speak english?" he spoke again, but you only tilted your head.

"Lou-is…Lest…at," you managed to get out, in broken english.

"Yes, that's our names," Louis cheered you on, as you now held a small smile.

"E..eng..lish n...not..mine," you explained.

"You don't speak english?" Louis helped interpret your speech. While Lestat stood, observing you.

"What do you speak?" Lestat asked, looking up at you.

"Water," you spoke clearly, moving your hand in the motion of waves.

"I’m going to find her something to wear," Louis said, jogging upstairs, one of the many blouses and slacks Lestat insisted on keeping from his women victims.

Speeding down the stairs, he was back in front of you in an instant, sitting the pile in front of you.

"You can put these on, just go to the bathroom," Before he could finish, you had already slipped out of the coat, struggling to put the clothes on.

"You can help with that," Louis said, walking away, as Lestat stood looking the other way.

"Here," he tells you, removing the shirt.

"Put your arms through the smaller holes, now you close the buttons," he said, as you buttoned the shirt. Looking at him, you both maintain eye contact, before he looks down, pulling the hem of your shirt down, along with helping with the pants.

"N..nice..h..human?" you asked him, watching carefully.

“Ma chérie, I am no human,” he told you.

“Nice human,” you ignored him, placing your hand on his heart.

Merfolk could easily read body language, and you had him read like a book. He was a caring person, but due to loneliness and circumstances, he oftentimes came off as cruel.

"I'm a nice person?" he asked sarcastically.

"You are," Louis called out, walking back to you both.

For a moment, Lestat and Louis began talking amongst each other, about you. They couldn't renounce their interest in understanding you, and what you were.

Walking away from them, you stood in the mirror, touching it, as you stared at yourself. biting down on your teeth, you stare at them. Moving your mouth, you mumbled things you've heard the two men say, to get familiar with the language. You quickly understood, being that mermaids were slightly more intelligent than humans, in certain areas.

"My name, Y/n," you said randomly, making them both stop talking and look at you.

"Your name is Y/n? You aren't from around here are you?" Lestat asked, and you shook your head.

"I am princess of Demacia," you said, walking back to the pair, sitting on the sofa.

"Demacia? Have you heard of this place before?" Louis asked Lestat.

"Where is Demacia?"

"Water, far away," you told them.

"I need to leave, the sun is coming out soon, let her stay here," Louis told Lestat.

"I am leaving, I will see you soon enough, take care," he tells you, as you nod at him, watching as he left.

“I go to water,” you stood.

“Nonsense, we wouldn't want to hear from Louis, you can use the bathtub, it doesn't get any use,” he told you, walking away. Stopping, he turned to you, and realization washed over that he wanted you to follow him.

The bathroom was large and unused, with a glossy bathtub against the wall. You watched as Lestat ran the water, his hand under the faucet to check the temperature. Turning the water off, he faced you.

"If you're a princess, why did you come here?"

"I was banished, I couldn't perform my first kill"

"First-kill?”

"Mermaids use our song, to kill a human, to show we are strong"

"And you couldn't go through with it. Can I hear this song?"

"No,” you shook your head.

"Those who hear the siren calling and live will be trapped with a life of hallucination if they don't drown themselves"

"Do you miss your family?"

"Just my brother, Mari, everyone else not really, thankfully I am not connected to my other half," you said.

“After you,” he motioned.

Trying to take the shirt off, you felt stuck, tugging at the shirt. Lestat groaned, unbuttoning the shirt, and helped remove the clothing, before helping you to the water. Your body began jerking, making him back away as the water splashed.

Instantly, you wiggled, and flailed. Lestat almost wanted to intervene, noticing how painful it looked, having your back fins ripped through your skin.

After the process, you sunk deeper under the water your large tail hanging from the tub.

"Amazing," he mumbled, leaning against the wall, as he observed you.

"Is the process painful?" he asked, and you only nodded. His eyes lingered on you before pushing himself off of the wall.

“Tomorrow we will find something suitable for your diet, try to get some rest,” he said, leaving the bathroom.

Waking up in the middle of the night, after sleeping for hours, you began to climb out of the bathtub, flopping onto the tile floor. Covering your mouth, to endure the pain, it hurt more than usual. As you muffled your groans of agony, you thought back to Arista's words. One, it wasn't good to shift too frequently, or too close together in time, you'd break down your body. Two, the longer you go without shifting, the less mermaid you become.

Remembering Lestat’s instructions, you put the clothes back on, with only a little struggle this time. Sighing, out of exhaustion, you lay on the floor.

“I see that you are awake, come, Louis stopped by, with a few things for you,” he held out his hand, helping you stand, leading you to the large dining table.

Sitting down, your eyes were set on the brown bags on the table. Placing a plate down, your mouth watered at the aroma of fish, along with a portion of Jumbalaya. Lestat questioned where Louis got the food, but he shrugged him off. Seating the food in front of you, you stared cautiously, enjoying the smell, but unsure of the taste.

"Do you not like fried fish? Louis insisted it was a favorite of the locals," Lestat asked, grumbling in aggravation.

"I’ve never had it, you?" you asked, touching the food with your hands.

“This food is for you alone,” he tried to explain simply.

"Try using your utensils," he continued, cutting and scooping the food, bringing it to your mouth, while you ate.

Handing you the spoon, you tried. It was easier if you only took small pieces. Lestat tapped his fingers on the table, as he examined you.

"While you eat, there are a few things I'd like to discuss with you," he said, as you nodded, your mouth full.

"Is there a reason I can't sense your...reproductive system?" he says, looking at you, but you sit the utensil down, looking confused.

"I don't sense your…womanhood" he corrects himself, as you nod in understanding.

"Merfolk are born as male, the elders choose who will be female, then by 5, those who were chosen, become female," you explain.

"How?"

"You phase, but phasing won't be noticed until your years of growth when things grow," you said, looking at your breast.

"Why is it this way?"

“To assign other half"s, our ancestors were able to choose freely, and so there were many who were male and male, and female and female, mating. As they died off. The elders said only certain people would be allowed to change, and everyone's other half had to be the opposite"

"Same-sex mating? so a male mermaid could get another pregnant, is what you're saying”

"It's a merman, but yes, if he was his other half," you said, finishing your food.

"What is an other half?"

"It is your partner, the person you are bonded to for eternity"

“Your companion,” he said lowly.

“Yes,” you nodded.

"What happened to you have yours...before you were banished?”

"I was assigned an other half, Rory. I had no love for him, so we never became whole," you admit, losing your appetite, pushing the plate away.

"My apologies, I am sorry to be intrusive, I can't hear your thoughts," he apologized.

"It is fine, but I'd like to know about you, what are you, obviously not human anymore, tell me, if you don't mind," you told him, leaning forward, a smirk forming on his face.

Looking into your eyes, he explained to you everything. Even he was surprised by the words that came from his mouth. He talked about his previous life, his maker, Louis, his trauma, and his loneliness. His failed relationship took a toll on him, but he couldn't let Louis leave his life completely afraid of being alone all over again.

"Your life has been full of misfortune, but it has made you strong, and your heart, it beats hard, that's good," you told him, placing your hand on his heart, hearing and feeling the blood rush through it.

Realizing what you were doing, you quickly removed your hand. Looking down, Lestat stared at you.

"My apologies," you whispered, standing up. Not seeing the small smile that played on his face.

"I didn't mind, is your hearing intensified?" he asked you, as you turned away.

"I can hear and feel all of your flowing blood," you said, as he stood, moving your hand back.

Suddenly a memory came to mind, one that you sheltered years ago.

“Y/n, mermaids do not intermingle with humans”

Your father's words, repeatedly in your mind, making your face burn in shame. Lestat was beginning to make you feel things, you had to keep away. You didn't want him to become angry with you like your fath-

"I see you liked the food," Louis called out, making you turn, removing your hand.

"Come, you clearly aren't going home anytime soon, we’ll have to find you a few things to wear," Lestat tells you, grabbing your hand.

"Watch your step,” Lesta said.

Holding onto his arm, as he led you to the backyard, removing the blindfold. Gasping, you looked at him, shaking your head, you couldn't believe your eyes.

“This is too much”

“Nonsense,” Lestat said.

It had been another five months since you made it to New Orleans, and ten away from your family. No one other than Lestat and Louis knew about you being a mermaid. After that night with Lestat, talking and eating the fish, he insisted that you stayed a while longer since you had no place to be anyway, but you weren't a fool. It was obvious to you, that he wanted to keep you around, he was becoming attached. The feelings were mutual, but guilt plagued your mind constantly, what would your father say about this? were human, or vampire rules the same as merfolk? You wouldn't know because you didn't leave the palace grounds often.

Every time you found yourself getting too close to him, you'd make up an excuse to put distance between you, such as now. The last few weeks, Lestat wouldn't allow you into the backyard. Your breathing was beginning to become shallow, meaning you needed to get back to water. You had told Lestat about your plans to spend a few days in the water, near the dock. However, he was coming up with possible solutions so that you wouldn't have to be in the water when he surprised you with a saltwater pool.

"I just, I don't think it is safe for you to be alone out there," Lestat said, moving close to you.

"New Orleans seems safe to me"

"it is, but I can't guarantee the water"

"I am grateful, but I can protect myself," you laugh, finding his concentrated expression adorable.

"Of course, but who will protect you, when you are shifting, you could be hurt," he said.

“If you wanted me to stay, you just had to say it,” you smiled, unbuttoning the dress, and keeping eye contact with him.

Jumping into the water, you quickly transformed before coming up. Lestat had taken his shoes off, soaking his legs in the water as he watched you. At first, he couldn't understand why he wasn't able to read your thoughts, but it was later understood that it was because you weren't human - meaning you had to intentionally give him access to your mind.

"You should show your teeth more, you look so cute," he said making a biting noise, sitting near you, while you lay floating on your back.

"I look like a monster," you thought.

"The is no appearance for a monster, you are a work of art, the gray skin and pale eyes, you could stop anyone in their tracks," he spoke out loud.

"Out of fear"

"No," he disagreed, chuckling.

"You say those things to make me feel better"

“I have no reason to lie to you"

"Do you ever miss your life before vampirism?" you changed the subject.

"No, are you missing your family?"

"Occasionally, once you receive your other half, in my kingdom, you no longer care too much about your immediate family, but with no half, I'm left partially...empty" Groaning, you submerged under the water.

"Not having your other half affects you that much?"

"Rory will be given a new half, while I, will die alone," you told him, he was stunned, raising his eyebrow at your choice of words.

"Do not speak that way, you have no idea what the future holds," he told you, angrily.

“I’m sorry"

You weren't, and it was true. Every mermaid/man who never mated or was exiled before mating, suffered the same fate, dying alone in a peculiar manner. Perhaps that was your unclear destiny, but you were accepting of it if it meant no innocent humans had to die by your hands.

"You better be, you couldn't be alone, ever, now that you have moi," he tells you, climbing into the water with you.

"Stop there"

Swimming backward from him, you hadn't been this close to a human in your form, in a significant body wate, since the young boy who was killed.

"This condition, your countenance doesn't make you a monster, it means nothing to me, it's all external," he said coming closer to you, moving your hair, before touching your hand, laying his against it.

"What are you doing to me?”

"I should be asking you that," he said, as you laid your hand on his heart.

"Two half's come together-

"and become one," Lestat finished your statement, pulling you close, as he kissed your lips, making you shut your eyes.

As he backed away, you opened your eyes, dazed, seeing his grin. Instantly, you noticed the cut on his lip, your teeth had cut him. Ashamed, you turned away.

"What is- oh it's only a small scratch, it is nothing but blood," he says, licking his lip, as you turn back him, allowing him to pull you into a hug.

Maybe what you're father didn't know, wouldn't kill him… right?

“Mr. de Lioncourt,” the young man called out, approaching with the sack filled with fish.

You submerged under the water, before blowing water bubbles and splashing at him. His eyes softened, looking at you before his face straightened as he stared at the man.

"I brought the fish," he announced, holding up the bag.

"My god," he mumbled, seeing you swim across the pool floor.

"Surely, this is an abomination," he whispered, making Lestat snap his head the man’s way.

"What is this monster?" he questioned to himself.

"You don't know how to do a job without being in someone's business"

"Would you like to repeat what you were saying instead of muttering it to yourself?" Lestat said, biting back his anger.

"I was only curious, my apologies"

"Don't worry about things you don't understand"

"Alright, no need to get hostile, I have the fish here, and I’ll take my leave," he said, backing away noticing that you had stopped swimming, and now peeked in the pool, staring at him, unblinking.

“Actually, I have other plans for you,” Lestat said, appearing behind the man, and covering his mouth before he drained him. You turned your back away from the sight, preferring to not see such things.

Hearing the sound of the incinerator, turning around, you watched as Lesat approached, tearing the sack apart, and dropping in the fish for you. Briefly, you stared into each other’s eyes, before you turned your back. Were you abominable? possibly. You were falling in love with a vampire, who offered to become your other half.

The two of you had gotten much closer, since the eventful night in the pool. Lestat oftentimes found himself, caressing your scaled skin, desiring to be more intimate, but you made it clear, that he was trying to cross a line you felt he wouldn't be able to handle.

"Y/n" he called out to you. Refusing to turn, he came around to you.

"Why did I have to be a monster"

"You know that is not true," he told you.

"I want to get out"

Climbing out of the pool, and flopping around, your body began to transform. Crouched down panting, Lestat approached, wrapping a towel around your body.

"Come on, ma chérie," he said, scooping you up. Silently, you laid your head against him, your face void of any expression. Sitting you on the bed, in the guest bedroom, that had become yours, he stood in front of you.

"I have a gift," he said, making you look over at him. Grabbing the small box, he sat it in your lap, allowing you to open it, revealing the pearls.

“I figured you could wear it when we go see the play,” he said, hopeful that you liked it.

"Thank you, I love it," you mumbled, brushing your fingers over the pearls.

"I don't like this, you ignoring me because of some pathetic human," he said, sitting next to you.

"Sorry"

"Don't apologize, confide in me," he said, leaning closer, but you turned your head.

"We shouldn't”

"I know you feel how my heart beats for you," Lestat says, placing your hand on his chest.

"Other half's, it's more than blood or sex"

"I don't need that from you, I just want to make you whole," he said, his voice softening.

"You're saying that now"

"I love you, Y/n"

"I don't want to hurt you"

"The night we first met, you felt my heart and said I was strong. Trust that I am strong enough to love you properly. Two half's-

"Become one," you said, slowly opening the towel, as Lestat crawled towards you.

“You will not like my blood”

“Your blood is perfect”

•••

meanwhile...

"Any traces?"

"None, at least not anywhere within 1000 kilometers"

"Go farther, find her"

"I don't know, I think she needs a doctor," Louis said, as Lestat examined your face.

"Is this normal...after the rituals?" he continued, looking at the dark circles that formed around your eyes.

"No," you said weakly.

Within the last three weeks, your health declined tremendously. You didn't even have the strength to get into the water or eat.

"Maybe she just needs to be in the water for a while" he suggested, as they stood, watching you.

Nodding, Lestat grabbed a hold of you, before carrying you to the pool, allowing you to sink into the cool water. They took note that you had yet to transform, when suddenly, your body violently shook, nothing else happening. Panicking, Lestat had you out of the water within a blink of an eye.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, as you struggled to breathe, holding his hand, to let him know you were okay.

"What the hell, why didn't she transform?” Louis asked.

"I don't know," Lestat stressed, helping you sit down, and kissing your forehead.

"Find a doctor and bring him to us,” Lestat told Louis, watching as he nodded, leaving.

"I'm sorry," he said again, hugging you close.

"I am fine," you said, leaning against him, and closing your eyes.

Since completing the ritual, you could feel everything Lestat felt, at an incredibly high level. He, of course, being a different species only felt a small part of what you experienced, and he usually only understood it through feelings in his stomach. Good feelings were described as butterflies, while the negative, aches.

"Calm down," you tell him, placing your hand on his chest, your eyes still shut.

"Louis needs to hurry," he said, ignoring you.

"I'm back, I found a doctor,” he said, the man, who had been glamoured followed behind.

"Help her," Lestat instructed.

Sitting his bag down, he reached to touch you, occasionally reaching into his bag for medical tools.

“What is wrong with her?”

"I can get a sample of blood, could be pregnancy, a virus, or a cold," he said, as he searched his bag for the needed equipment.

“Get him out of here,” Lestat told his fledgling, Louis instantly was directing the man to leave.

“Y/n, I need to drink of you,” he said, reaching for your wrist, with your blood in his veins, it was the only time he felt most connected with you.

Nodding, you groaned at the feeling of his vangs sinking into your skin. He drank for a while, your blood dripping down his chin, when he heard it. Faint, so low he could easily miss it.

“How is this possible?” Lestat choked, hardly able to speak, hesitantly moving his hands to your stomach.

“What is it?” Louis asked, coming back.

“She is…pregnant”

“How is that possible, you're dead,” Louis asked, confused.

"It was the ritual, the water has accepted our companionship, and bestowed this upon us"

A while after physically mating, along with giving and drinking blood with Lestat, in your human form - you did it in your mermaid form. It isn't similar in the slightest, more so, letting the water bond you to each other, emotionally, leaving an orgasmic feeling. Deciding if you are worthy of being gifted a child.

“So you're a father now, congratulations,“ Louis pat his back.

"This still doesn't explain her behavior, I've never seen this before in pregnant women"

"What pregnant women have you been around?" Louis asked sarcastically, and you opened your eyes, waiting, with your eyebrow raised.

“I mean, typically symptoms"

"Vampire, the child is possibly a half-vampire, and they are feeding on me for nutrients,” you said, staring at your stomach.

“Has the been heard of before?”

“Not with vampires, just humans, it has only been heard of once in my lifetime, a distant relative from years ago”

"Do you know how her pregnancy went?"

"They say it was shorter than usual"

"The elders-she..." you stopped, your hand going to your chest.

Why didn't you think of your cousin, Sherah? She was seen to have much potential, until she fell in she with a human man. She left home without anyone knowing, to be with him. Having a son with him, she eventually was found. Immediately, they killed her, leading of pod to surround her. They baby, they took, and kept him, but treated him like an outcast, until he was killed by a shark, at only ten. All of this, and yet here you were making the same mistake.

"Your cousin...she isn't alive, is she?" Louis asked, making you shake your had

"No harm will come to either of you, okay?"

"Okay," you nodded, as he pulled you into a firm hug.

Closing your eyes, you prayed the water would make a way for you and your child because you had never in history heard of a child born of a vampire and siren.

"We've found her, she has been traced, all the way in the Gulf”

"I want you to move in-

"There is more, my king"

"What?"

"The others think she may be on land"

•••

"My goodness,” you groaned, your hand going to your stomach.

"What's wrong, is it the baby?" Lestat seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"I feel strange”

"Do you have to urine? It seems you need to go all the time,” he asked.

"Probably, help me up, please," you said. Instead, he picked you up and was in the bathroom within a flash

You were six months now, your womb swollen as if you were further along. You had been unable to transform, the entire time. Forced to drink human mixed with Lestat’s blood to remain healthy. While there were days you felt worse than others, seeing Lestat so happy was like your medicine. He never in his lifetime imagined something like this happening, and with it unfolding, he was more than grateful.

"I need to get to the water," you told him, he had your dress up, halfway, looking at you, unsure.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"I've got this weird feeling, the water is calling for me," you said, holding onto him, as he picked you up.

Standing at the edge of the pool, he hesitantly dropping you into the water. Crouching, he watched as you stripped from your clothes, when it happened. You were transforming, Lestat released a breath of relief, furrowing his eyebrows at your large belly, seeing the concerning sharp kicks.

“The baby is coming”

Hearing the words, Lestat was glad to already dead, because he would have died from anxiety and excitement. 

“Louis, it is happening,” he managed to get out, calling to his fledgling, watching in astonishment as you pushed out the child, like a dolphin.

You slowly swam around, until the child smoothly came out, with the placenta and blood. The water turned light red, but you were still visible, circling the small child, that had a small tail, with a head full of hair.

"A girl," you told him, as the child, swam close to you, snuggling against you.

"What happened?" Louis asked, rushing over.

"She has given birth, it is a girl," Lestat said, as you stared lovingly at the child, who now lay comfortably in your arms.

"Will she be able to transform?” Louis asked, relieved when you nodded.

“I will find something for her to wear,” Louis rushed into the house, excited to see the baby in its human form.

Lifting from the pool, laying in the grass, you shifted back. Lestat watched with tears in his eyes, as the baby changed, the tail turning into the most precious legs and toes. 

Picking up the child, he held her close, amazed at the creation the two of you made. 

“Here,” Louis said, handing you a gown, and Lestat a tiny blanket for the baby.

"Mermaids don't cry much as babies," you told him, sensing his worry.

“Will she age?”

“She seems to be more mermaid than vampire,” you told him, reassuringly.

"She is beautiful,” he cried.

"And ours," you said happily.

"What will you name her?" Louis asked.

"Amara, it means, everlasting," you said, as he carefully placed her into your arms. The moment couldn't get any more perfect, you sat feeding your daughter, before giving her back to Lestat to hold. Watching the sight in front of you, you smiled softly. Until you heard something, making your blood run cold. It was a siren song, far from New Orleans, but getting close. Standing, you worriedly approached Lestat.

"Give her to Louis and let him take her home," you said.

"What? Why?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Please, listen to me, quickly," you said, running inside, grabbing another blanket to wrap around her, and grabbing your pearl necklace to slip inside.

"Please, get her away from here, I will explain everything later," you continued, handing him the child, and ushering him away.

"What is going on?" Lestat asked you.

"Stay here, wait for me to return," you said, making him give you a look, but you ignored it, pecking his lips, before taking off.

Slowly, you walked to the dock, where your new life began. Approaching the water, you could see someone standing there, their scent familiar.

"My sister," the voice said, snapping your head to the left, there stood Mari, in his human form, a cloth around his waist, taller and more muscular than the last time you saw him.

"Mari," you said, shocked to see him.

"Won't you hug your brother?" he asked, in the same emotionless voice.

Running, you jump into his arms, as he hugged you tightly. As your feet touch the ground, he kisses your forehead, hugging you again.

"You've grown," he says.

"What are you doing here Mari?"

"The others are coming, they are ready for you to come home, to force you to have your first kill, if you haven't already, I wanted to be the one to tell you," he said.

"I can't leave Mari," you whispered to him. 

"Is there something st-" Looking up, you see he had stopped talking, staring ahead, on high alert.

"You couldn't have possibly thought I would let you run off, in a panic, and not be concerned," Lestat said, standing behind you, never removing his eyes from your brother.

"This is Mari," you tell him.

"Mari, this is Lestat, he is special to me, and he is not human," you tell him in your native tongue.

His eyes shift back to him, as he gives a small bow out of respect. They could be heard, the water didn't make any movement, but you could hear the fastness, of them swimming closer.

"Lestat, you need to go home"

“Home is with you, ma chérie”

Rising above the surface, King Zale and Ari, were in front of the group of other mermen, and your siblings.

"Y/n, my daughter, have you learned your lesson, ready to come home?" your father said.

"What are they saying?” Lestat questioned before you gave him access to your thoughts where the language translated.

"I will not come back Father, I am sorry, this is my home now," you tell them.

"This is not your home, you are no human," he tells you.

"I can't leave," you say sadly, causing your sister to gasp.

"Father, can you not see it?" Nerissa asked, making all of the merfolk look around confused.

"What is it?"

"She has mated with that human man," she said through gritted teeth. Snapping his eyes onto Lestat, he looks back your way.

"Y/n, who is this man?"

"This is Lestat, he has become my close friend and...my other half"

“Y/n, tell me this isn't true,” your mother cried.

"then I would be lying," you tell her.

"Where is the baby then?" Nerissa said.

"We haven't conceived yet, we were hoping the water would bless us" you lied.

"What she has done is an abomination upon us all, she is vile," Ari says angrily.

“He is not human, can you not smell it?” you argued. Everyone inquired amongst themselves in agreement that the man didn't smell human.

“That doesn't matter, he isn't one of us, she has broken our ancient laws,” Ari countered.

"What shall we do, my king?" one of the elders asks.

"Are you confessing to your detestable actions?" King Zale asked.

"Yes father," you said.

"Then it is final, you will face judgment and I am no longer your father"

"Father, that is-

"Stay out of it Mari, always taking up for her, but look what she has been doing, we ought to kill all of these worthless humans" Ari spit out.

"No, I face judgment with no resistance, and you leave these people alone" you glared.

"You are no one to bark orders," he said darkly, moving forward.

"Enough, we will be back shortly to deliver your retribution," your father said before they all lowered into the water.

"I will try to talk to them," Mari tells you, grabbing a hold of your hands.

"You don't have to risk your place for me," you tell him.

"It is the least I could try to do for you," he says, hugging you, before diving back into the water.

Looking at Lestat, you cried, laying your head on his chest. 

“Will you take care of her?”

“You don't really think I am allowing this to continue? You have lived on land, their threats are nothing to me”

“Lestat-

“No, I will not allow them to take you away from me, from us, I will spare your brother, but the rest will know my wrath, trust me,” he told you, kissing your lips.

•••

“There has to be another way, she is still young, and she has much to learn-

“Silence Mari, it is I, who will become king, not you, you will shut your mouth, or you will die with her”

•••

“Saying your final goodbyes?” Ari asked a devilish grin in place.

“Y/n, we have come up with a final decision,” your father said.

“There is a problem with your judgment, it holds no value when Y/n is mine, and I won't give her over so easily,” Lestat spoke, angering many of the merfolk with his boldness.

“Does he not realize his stupidity will kill everyone?” Nerissa asked, as a reminder.

“Do it, I am no human,” he shrugged.

“Your insolent mate will respect the statutes, I am King-

Before anyone could move, Lestat had lunged forward, ripping your father’s head off, his spine still connected.

“Long live the king,” he smirked, as the others gasped.

“Not so fast, or you will all suffer the same fate,” he told them, as they were about to attack.

“I reject my bloodline of Demacia and denounce all rules and statutes, I accept an eternity of banishment,” you spoke, making Ari scoff.

“If you are ever seen anywhere near us, you are dead,” he said, taking your father’s remains as they swam away.

“Thank you,” you slung your arms around Lestat.

“Anything for you”

Turning to leave, you stopped, seeing Mari climb from the water, transforming, before standing tall.

“I just want a word with you before I leave,” he said, seeing Lestat glare at him.

“Your child- I could smell them on you, almost immediately, like Sherah’s son,” he started.

“We were given a girl,” you told him, seeing him smile slightly.

“The water knows best”

“I'm worried about her aging, Lestat hasn't aged since he was turned, and he lives off of human blood,” you explained.

“She will be fine, raise her as both, the water will sustain her and eventually his gift will take over, take care, Ari calls for me,” he said, turning.

“Mari, stay here, you’ll like it-

“I can not abandon my duties, love you, my little guppy”

7 years later…

"I'm finished, Can I please go play?" the seven-year-old asked her daddy.

"It's getting late, Amara,” you told her, but she only pouted, climbing on her father.

"Daddy, can I go play, please?"

“I thought you wanted to swim tonight?” you asked her.

"I do, I won't be long, tell her daddy, tell her how fast I run,” she said, making him chuckle.

"Let’s just give her a few minutes,” he said, using the handkerchief to wipe the blood from her lips. Clapping in excitement, she was out of the house immediately.

"She can't always have her way," you told Lestat, who continued playing the music on his piano.

"You have your way all the time, ma chérie, who do you think she gets it from?” he asked, smirking, as you leaned down, kissing his lips.

“She is getting better at hunting every day, it’s a reward for her and a break for us,” he said, standing up, and picking you up.

•••

"Hey, I'm back" Amara whispered, as she approached the dock.

"Did you eat well?" the merman asked, rising above the water.

"How can I understand you?"

"Because you're special," he tells her.

“I'm a mermaid, like you, but only half,” she told him.

“Yes”

"What's your name again, sir?"

"Mari, but don't tell anyone, our secret"

"Okay, can I hear the story now? I ate all of my food and asked my mommy and daddy to come play”

"Of course, little one, it is about a lonely mermaid princess, who was banished from her home, this is a true story"

"A mermaid princess? I bet she was pretty, what was her name?"

"She was one of the most beautiful, let's call her angel?"

"Angel? Why that?"

"She was the only one to have the heart of an angel, out of all of her brothers and sisters, but Amara, we must continue"

"Sorry, go on," she giggled, listening to him tell the story.

•••

"Amara," you called for her worriedly, running around the port. You knew she wouldn't be right back, but after over an hour passed, you became worried.

"She's right here," Lestat appeared on the dock, picking her up.

"You said you wouldn't be long, young lady," you said, as the child pouted, she looked so much like Lestat with his pale eyes and sharp features.

"Sorry mama, look at what I got though," she said, showing the pretty shell.

“It is very pretty,” you told her.

"Come on, ma chére, you need a bath," Lestat said walking back home.

You didn't follow, staying still a little longer, staring at the water, unable to identify where the familiar scent was.

"Mari?" you whispered.

"Ma chérie, Amara wants to apologize with kisses,” Lestat reappeared, making you laugh.

"I’m willing to hear her out, but only because she's so cute," you said, joining the two. 

Watching from the water, Mari was happy for you, you were finally with people who accepted you completely.

"Thank you," you mumbled. Your heart warmed at the thought of Mari being involved in Amara’s life - that she would know another mermaid outside of herself and you.

"Hm?” Lestat asked.

"I hope you know you have to finish what you started, later tonight," you said lowly, grinning.

“I intend to”

"Two hearts became one, and the fallen princess had risen to outshine her dark nation," Mari thought.

"Goodbye, big brother"

"Goodbye, little sister"

Looking back for the last time, the merman dived into the water, swimming back to his underwater kingdom.

the end 😅

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 36

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, NSFW, MDNI, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings/labels: fluff, family dynamics stuff, lots of Damian, hints of DamiJon

wc: 1.6k

Chapter Selection

January hit me like a ton of bricks. The spring semester at GU was fast approaching, and after taking the whole of December off from work I was a bit anxious. Bruce had gone to a lot of trouble to get me set up at university. Alfred had spent hours getting me up to speed, answering any questions I had so I would be ready for the class work. Babs had programmed an entire app for me. And most importantly, Jason was depending on me. I couldn't let any of them down.

In the last week before the semester started, Jay took me and Damian to see a little house in his territory. A squat little thing with an overgrown front yard and a closed in porch; Jason immediately assured me he'd fix the lock for it before we moved in. It had two bedrooms, two bathrooms, and an unfinished basement I could use for the clinic. The attached garage had a door to the basement, and the kitchen was open to the living room with a little island in between. It was old and worn down, but the bones were strong. With a little care and time, it could be a home. Damian examined one of the bedrooms, a critical little frown on his face.

“What do you think, kiddo?” I smiled softly, watching him walk the length of the room.

The realtor shifted uncomfortably as he briefly leveled his gaze on her before turning to look at me instead; “... I am sure you will bring out its best potential.”

I smiled softly, looking around. “I think we will too. You like the room?”

He nodded. “It will do.”

I turned to Jason, grinning, and he nodded to the realtor. “Sounds like we'll take it.”

The realtor nodded, sighing in relief, and led Jason to the kitchen to go over our next steps. Damian looked out the window at the backyard, a curious expression on his face.

“What’re you thinking about, baby?” 

“... We will need to replace the locks on these windows.”

I nodded, gently stroking his back; “don't you worry about that stuff. Jay will make sure it's all perfectly safe before we move in. Let us deal with the boring adult stuff, you just think about what you want for your room.”

“... Like what?”

“Anything. We can paint the walls, put up shelving, anything you want!”

He looked around, considering. “... Can I paint the walls?”

“Sure you can! It's your room, sweetheart. You can do whatever you like with it. And if you decide you don't like how it turns out we can take it all out so you can do it again. And again, and again!”

He smiled a little, nodding slowly. “... I have my own room at the manor, of course, but … this feels different. … I didn't choose the furniture there, it was already set up for guests when I moved in. … The wallpaper has probably been up since before I was born, it's practically antique. … My belongings are there, but still the room doesn't exactly feel like … Mine. …”

He leaned against my side and I wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Well, this room is all yours. You get to pick the furniture, the layout, the colors, everything. You don't have to keep anything you don't like, and you can change it as often as you wish. There's no pressure to keep it perfect, no generations of ancestors watching from on high and clucking disapprovingly if you change something. It's yours.”

He took one last look around, really taking everything in before we left the room, rejoining Jason and the realtor in the kitchen. An affectionate smile slipped across Jason's face; “making big plans, demon brat?”

Damian smirked; “I will need lots of paint. When will you have the building secured?”

“Two weeks. And we'll have to hire some contractors for a few things. Probably move in some time next month, and the basement will be ready by next year.”

“Ah, Mr. Todd, sorry - one last signature.” The realtor pointed to a line on the paperwork.

Jason signed, and the realtor smiled to Damian; “so, young man, what color are you thinking for your room?”

“... As black as my soul.” He stared at her, entirely expressionless.

The realtor blinked a few times, unsure if he was joking. “... Heh. … Your son is adorable…”

Damian's eyes shifted between emotions so fast I couldn't recognize them before he had a neutral mask on. Jason snorted, and I spoke up; “brother, actually.”

“O- oh! … Sorry …”

Jason passed the paperwork back, along with a check. The realtor did her best to mask her surprise; she was clearly not used to clients not needing to go through the bank. Damian slipped his hand into mine, stepping closer.

Damian and Jon were sitting in front of the tv playing games. Jason was reading a book on the couch, and I was sitting with his head in my lap, playing with his hair. He looked up at me, smiling softly, and cupped my cheek, pulling me down into a soft kiss.

Jon groaned at something happening on the screen, and Damian cheered; “that is why I'm the leader!”

Jon laughed affectionately; “no, you're the leader because you're the smartest person I know. This, on the other hand, was pure luck.”

Damian flushed a bit, scoffing; “tt. Luck had nothing to do with it! I am just a more skilled player than you, Jon.”

“Prove it!” Jon smirked and they started another round.

I chuckled softly, watching them for a while. “Alright, boys, finish that round, and then we can go.”

Jason sat up, stretching a bit. “Can't believe you convinced me to take them to the zoo…”

“Bruce got us the year passes, we should use them!” I grinned; “besides, look how excited they are.”

The boys were hurriedly getting everything turned off and put away. Jason chuckled, getting his boots. “The things I do for you…”

I giggled, kissing his cheek. “Let's all say ‘thank you, Jason'~”

Jon grinned; “thanks Jay!”

Damian nodded; “thank you, Todd.”

Jay chuckled, leading us down to the car. “Alright, alright. You're welcome, kids.”

We piled in and headed to the Gotham Zoo. I watched the scenery shift around us; slowly more and more greenery took over, and the buildings got shorter. Jason turned the radio on, and I found myself thinking about the direction my life had taken. The person I was a year ago would never have believed how full my life was now…

As we pulled in to the parking lot, I was startled out of my thoughts by Jon sputtering; “with who??”

“A girl at school. She's in my art class.” Damian replied evenly.

“I … you … who's this girl? You've never mentioned a girl before!”

“What happened?” I murmured to Jason as he parked.

“Apparently the demon spawn has a date next week.” Jason smirked.

We climbed out of the car, Jon still flabbergastedly rambling; “well who is she?”

“Her name is Emma. We're going to get boba after school.” Damian shrugged.

We made our way to the counter to buy Jon's ticket and go in, the boy continuing to interrogate Damian about his date the whole way there.

“... What is the big deal, Jon? You're acting as if I don't have other friends.”

“No! That's not what I … I just … a date?”

“... You don't think it's possible for someone to want to date me?”

“That's not what I said, Dami! You're great, it's just … surprising … you've never mentioned her before.” Jon flushed, looking away awkwardly.

“I am mentioning her now.”

“... Evidently.” Jon huffed softly.

“... I'm not marrying her, Kent. It's just boba. I didn't think I needed to get your permission to invite a girl out.”

Jon bristled at the use of his last name. “... I didn't say you had to...”

I offered the boys a map, smiling gently. “Come on boys, where should we start?”

Damian sighed softly and took the map, looking over it. “... Reptile house?”

He looked over at Jon, who nodded, slowly offering Damian his hand. The boy considered him for a second before giving his own, eliciting an infectious grin from his friend. They ran off toward the reptile house, with me and Jason following them.

“... How long have they been like that?”

Jason tilted his head toward me; “like what?”

“Dancing around each other.”

“... You think …?” Jason looked between me and the boys up ahead.

“Pretty sure.”

“... Oh no … I don't think Damian even knows yet.” He laughed softly.

“Me either. He plays mind games at times, but not the ‘set up a fake date to make your crush jealous' type.”

The boys paused at the door of the reptile house, waiting for us. Damian stood with his back against the wall, watching the crowd around them, while Jon leaned in close to hear him talk.

“... I'm gonna tell him when we get home.” Jay smirked.

“No, you’re not! Jace, don't you dare ruin this for him! Let him figure it out on his own.”

“Ugh, why? That'll take forever.”

“If you tell him now do you think he's gonna believe you, or do you think he's going to retreat from his friendship with Jon and get really moody about it?”

Jason sighed. “... Ok, yeah … bet you anything Jon's gonna come out first.”

“... Loser plans a date tailored to the other's interests?”

“Done.” He smirked, shaking my hand.

“No interference.” I looked up at him sternly.

He nodded, chuckling; “no interference. From either of us.”

“Scout's honor.”

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika-graphics Fanart in the header by: @crowkip

Taglist (open):

@jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a @frosty--giants @arisa191 @prized-jules @phoenix666stuff @dinonuggysandhuggus @anuttellaa @whore-of-many-hot-men @cottage-worm @v1ckycheesue @roastyyytoastyyy @sarakmec @thestarcatcher7297 @stupidlyunhinged @mishkapi @mermaidgirl-11 @bunniboo0015 @bibibusinessman @iimichie

[unicyclehippo]

ok so i submitted a story for a competition & didn't get far but i was pretty happy with it so imma post it here for y'all. pls enjoy!

YEAR OF THE WOLF

Blood and shampoo wash pink down the shower drain. My body aches, back hot with pain. I gotta stretch more, I think, before remembering what time of month it is.

I’m not stupid, I want that to be known up top.

Tired? Yes. A bit forgetful now and then? Certainly. Overly reliant on blind optimism? Of course. Who can afford for things to go wrong these days? But stupid? No. Not about this, anyway. I’ve known for almost a decade that I’m a werewolf. I just thought if I ignored it long enough it would stop, or at least stay low on the list of important things I had to deal with—somewhere between turning thirty and the world burning down around our ears.

Still, it manages to take me by surprise each month. I see the blood, feel the shift-pull-crack of bones and vitals, the wet throb of viscera and organs, as my body reshapes itself. The wolf and I share a space not big enough for two; something must give way.

I lose time daydreaming about it. Transforming. My only plan for the day is work, maybe video games later, cooking dinner. I could call in sick. I could clear away the bathmat and towels and fall to my hands and knees and change into something bloody and terrible and wonderful, I could lay myself down on the soft carpet in the sunrays, decadent, I could leap from my balcony, powerful, and lope away into the bush off the track to explore the silver-blue of the leaves and the cathedral termite mounds, I could—

The shower pipes groan, rattle, and spit freezing water down onto me.

I don’t transform.

I towel off. The mirror shows me a human with the same soft features as ever. Shampoo suds clinging to my shoulders. Hair cut short and plastered down on chalk-white skin paler than usual. The doctor warned me low iron was a side-effect of transformation but I look myself over for another cause. Lift my arms, twist to check my back. There’s a pimple or two where my binder digs in but no injuries. I promise the doctor in my head I’ll bring it up at our next appointment.

My doctor is a careful woman, dedicated and precise. She sits primly and dresses well—her blouse is fashionable, flowery, her trousers professional and practical. She keeps notes in a leatherbound book and her thoughts securely behind her eyes. She asked me to keep track of any changes Inoticed. I pull out a crumpled receipt where I’d scrawled some notes.

tired

hungry

headaches

more dreams than usual

tired—oh I already wrote that down. still true

irritated way more by stuff?

jaw hurts?

‘Alright,’ she says, writing it down on her page about me.

I sit hunched opposite her, then fix my posture, then let my shoulders droop again, conscious of being too broad, too big. In the time it takes for her to commit a few brief notes to paper, I’m struggling not to get distracted by the lights and their electric buzz—the popping stop and start as the filaments crackle in the bulbs. My eyes wander over neat stacks of paperwork, a penholder with all the pens pointed in the same direction.

‘We’re going to order a blood test. You’re right, the fatigue and headaches could be an indicator of iron deficiency.’

‘Okay.’

‘Do you know if there’s a history?’

‘Of…iron deficiency?’

She smiles. ‘Of lycanthropy.’

The question makes my head spin. There’s been some excitement about there being some genetic predisposition to lycanthropy (unconfirmed), which half my friends were leery of, seeing the research as another way for hunters to exterminate us, and half took to romantic spirals, daydreaming about their ancestors being just like them. But the doc is asking about, like, my parents and grandparents, and it makes me laugh.

‘No. No way.’ I think harder. Is it possible? My maternal grandparents, definitely not. But my dad’s parents…I don’t know that well. ‘I could ask, maybe.’

After the three haphazard sessions we’ve had stretching across eleven months, which chiefly feature my repeated and sustained reluctance to talk, she indicates her doubt with a quiet raised brow.

It’s fair. I don’t tend to do things I don’t want to do, even if they’re important. Sometimes, especially if they’re important.

At the end of our fifteen-minute session, she walks me to the door and beneath the stench of eucalyptus-scented cleaner that makes my nose itch and head ache, I catch a whiff of her cologne. Wood pine and wild.

I think about it all day.

Has she helped me because she’s like me? The thought races ahead of me, tempting; I sprint after it. I wonder what she wears at home. Does she google boxers for bed because they seem so comfortable? Does she veer at the last moment to Boyfriend shorts! Now in satin – for HER! Or does she kick the world off at the front door next to her shoes and just…exist. Is she like me? Just a person who does things? Or is she a woman who does things? Or a person who does woman things or a woman who does womanly things or a woman who does things knowing they’re not womanly and caring or not caring? Does she splinter the cage that would contain her and let the hungry animal of her body carry her to meat and sleep and hunting and to the warmth of her partner at rest?

Is she like me?

As a kid, I wanted to take karate. My brother wanted to sing. Somehow, I ended up in the music class. It was in a demountable that creaked, off-key, with every step and stunk of the creek next door. The singing teacher had a red round face and told me not to sing too loud—I was practicing to be part of the choir, I should be part of the group. That group was made up entirely of nervous and near-silent girls who shivered with the desire above all else not to stand out. (I learned that part well.)

On the other side of school, my brother stood in karate class with a teacher who ignored him and older boys who picked on him—he was short back then, with baby fat still on his cheeks, and had a close relationship with boredom and distraction that came from being smarter than most.

Once we figured out the joke being played on us, our places switched, we made a pact to teach each other what we learned. It didn’t last. Within three lessons, I spent more time on the walk to the classroom than in class; I dawdled in the fields and by the creek, tracking beetles and digging for dinosaur bones in the mud. When I did arrive, it was twenty-five minutes late with dirt under my nails and finally the teacher told me not to show up. My brother took a faster approach and called the teacher a moron. Mum had to pick him up early from class and neither of us learned very much.

My gran lives hours away and I never got the impression she liked me much. I think about sitting in her drawing room, the sticky-sugar smell from bottles of fancy port on the shelf, and her sitting opposite, eyes hawklike, mouth pursed and tongue sharp. I don’t visit her. I think about asking my dad instead and, while he does like me, he doesn’t like werewolves and I’m not ready to risk exile.

I get my blood drawn. The doctor prescribes iron pills and congratulates me on my teeth coming in.

My mother doesn’t like my sharp teeth or short hair or the way I sit. I want to tell her I didn’t do anything to my teeth; that if anyone is to blame for the handsome jut of my canines, the neat, careful way they can tear flesh from bone, it’s her. She made me. But saying stuff like that only opens up the room for more questions.

‘Do you like it? Looking like that?’

It will hurt her if I say yes. When you are a daughter, wanting to change means you don’t want to become your mother, which means you don’t love her.

I can’t say no.

The wolf stirs. It wants me to say yes. It loves fiercely and loves me most of all. But it isn’t the one who has to live here—work, be a daughter, a sister. It won’t be the one who has to listen to my mother tell me to be sure before I tell anyone else because there’s no going back and people will hate me for it, just for being, and that she can’t support me doing that to myself, that it’s against the god she’s never thought twice about, and has someone talked me into it?

I’m not ready for that.

‘It’s just teeth,’ I say.

She shakes her head but doesn’t ask any more questions. I think she’s scared I’ll tell her the truth.

am i a coward?

My friend Luna takes a long while to answer.

While I wait, I wash the dishes I’ve been “soaking” for three days; the kitchen smells of dish soap when I’m done and the world is a little cleaner. Outside, my balcony is drenched in sunlight. I make my coffee and sit out there, turning my nose to the wind. Somewhere close by, someone is cooking chicken loaded up with paprika. It’s more accurate to say they’re burning chicken. Next door, my neighbour digs through the rich dirt of their garden and plants rosemary and lavender.

My phone lights up.

No, she says. Then, Why do you ask?

the whole werewolf thing. i won’t transform, wont tell my family.

This reply is much faster. Definitely not.

i feel like one

First of all, you transform when it’s right & as much or little as you want & that changes from person to person. Second, being safe is not cowardly.

yeah

Do you want to tell them?

The coffee is gorgeously strong. After a few gulps, I feel like someone has brushed the cobwebs out of my head.

it’s like. there’s this version of me in their heads that isn’t real yknow. like im not a person im a cloud in person shape & sometimes they get a glimpse of my hand or whatever. & its safe inside the cloud its harder to hit me but . they cant see me

Mm

sorry i know this is teenager shit

In the distance, a fire alarm starts to blare.

No it’s good. I get it, obviously. And you know my parents were awful when I told them but we go running every month now. The question isn’t “am I a coward”. The question is, are you prepared to confront that version of yourself in their heads? Are you ready for it to change?

i wish i knew. how it would change i mean. bc i feel like if i knew for Sure that they would take it badly then that’s one thing & i could deal w that. & if i knew theyd be fine w it i could deal with That but. i don’t know. & its freaking me out. but it’s also like…ok i don’t live w them, i’ve got a job, idont rely on them for anything. what real bad consequences could there be?

Dots pop up at the bottom of the screen. They disappear after a minute, then reappear, as Luna takes her time to answer. Finally, she says,

By announcing the real version of yourself, you open yourself up to vulnerability. Things that didn’t bother you before will feel uncomfortable or hurt because it touches you. And when you change the way that you exist in the eyes of people who are supposed to love you unconditionally, you invite the possibility that they will reveal the love was in fact conditional & not for you, that you somehow failed to live up to the person they imagined you to be

mate i’m already scraping the bottom lol

You’re wonderful, Luna says, because she can tell when a joke isn’t really a joke. Her worst trait. If they can’t see that, it doesn’t mean it’s not true.

yeah

You don’t have to tell everyone. You could pick whoever would take it best & get someone on your side. When I take too long to answer, Luna sends a string of photos—her dogs, her family in matching hiking shirts, the view of the nearly full moonon her side of the world. I’m on your side, she says. Always. Let me know how it goes.

The full moon burns, beckons. We are both gloriously awake this time. I have never been more awake. The sky is a black lake and when it rains we taste space and stars and smog. The stairs are slick with the rain. On all fours we are sure, quick, eager! The grass is waiting for us! Splendid! Everything is incandescent in silver, including me. The grass—dew-wet, green scent full in our nose—invites us to roll in it, sticks its seedlings to our fur, tagalongs on our adventure. We run! Smell everything! ticklegrass wetmoss possum pee BUG rough brick mud SPIKY plant big tree lavender dog smell road gutter old leaves bird feathers vinegar shARP on my tongue bag crinkles between our teeth

The days’ heat still smoulders on the surface of the road. We are standing in the centre of it, massive, when a car crests the hill. It stops, engine rumbling and blue-glare lights illuminating us. It waits for us to cross the road before driving on. The driver stares from their seat. In one easy jump, we clear the fence and disappear.

Three more streets and the road ends. The world is huge, bigger than I could have imagined. There’s dirt here! dirt mud rocks beetles scuffling under the leaves koala musk leads to claw marks at the base of trees.

The wolf likes it when I’m awake. It wants to show me the world. Look, its questing nose says, look what you miss out on when you sleep.

It takes us to a termite mound and we listen to them sing.

We stay out all night, trekking through the pocket of national park. I am the biggest thing in the forest. Nothing frightens me. We find a creek filled with every fascination the world has to offer. Ten thousand wet stones, bottle caps, an ill-tempered fish.

When the sun rises, I am sore and covered in blood. I call my brother to pick me up. I stand by the edge of the park to wait for him; at the bottom of the hill, the highway stretches out like a grey branch, cars buzzing along it like bugs. A firefly splits off from it, flying towards me.

The yellow of the headlights cuts through the trees. Inside the car, my brother jumps when he sees me and the light reflecting off my eyes. The wolf is still awake and we move fast and strong to the passenger side door.

He knows.

I can tell. Smell it on him, see it in his uneasy posture. He knows and still I can’t say it. It feels like I’ve swallowed a bird whole, alive. It trembles, stuck in my throat. When I think about talking it pecks at my tongue and if I open my mouth, if I try to explain, he will see my bloody tongue and the bird and he’ll see me all wrong, all the ugly brutish parts of me I’d like to keep hidden, if I can.

The wolf is still awake. It isn’t scared; it is massive and powerful, it can bite through anything, it can run forever without getting tired. We can. And if there is ever a time to talk to my brother, to let him know who I am, it is now.

I do not want him to think I am a bloody-mouthed girl.

I want him to know I am not a coward. I am myself, a werewolf, alive and finally happy for it.

The wolf yawns. I catch a glimpse of my teeth in the mirror, sharp.

‘Hey.’ Of all the ways to break a very tense silence, it’s not the worst. ‘Thank you. For picking me up.’

He risks a look at me, away from the road. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yeah.’

A muscle tics in his cheek as he chews on silence. He’s upset that I won’t say more. So am I. I want to. The bird is in the way. I have always had to trick myself into talking; it is never easy, not in doctor’s office, not in my parents’ home, not in the forest, or my brother’s car.

We slow. Ahead, the traffic lights paint the dashboard red. The car shivers around us, idling. I can feel it shake through my bare feet, dirty and scratched up from the rocks, pressed to the rubber floor mats.

The first word comes out like a pulled tooth.

‘I—need to say.’ He glances my way. I think, briefly, about jumping out the window but the light turns green so I can’t. I have to talk instead. ‘I’m a werewolf.’

He drives. I realise he must have been waiting to talk, really talk, because this is the first time I’ve been in his car without music playing.

‘I think the proper term is lycanthrope,’ he says, finally.

‘Dude.’

‘Sorry. Just, medically speaking...’ He shakes his head. Drums his fingers against the wheel. ‘How long?’

‘I dunno.’ I do. A decade of knowing and doing nothing about it. Almost a year of thinking very hard about it and doing slightly more.

He knows me better than my doctor; both his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, entirely unconvinced.

‘I’m still me,’ I tell him, because that’s what everyone says in books and movies. I guess it’s what you’re supposed to say. What I want to say is that I’m more me than ever. What I want him to say is thank you, and I’m his favourite person, and that he understands how hard it was for me to share but he’s proud of me. But I would have to ask for that and the bird in my throat won’t budge.

‘Okay. Wow. So… Are you going to move? Change your name? Are you going to get claws? A tail?’

‘Okay, never ask me that again.’ He laughs. ‘And no. I don’t think so. I kind of like that it’s not super obvious. It’s no-ones business but mine.’

‘And mine now.’ I think he’s smiling, a little. ‘Why did you tell me? If you don’t want anyone to know?’

I wish I was still a wolf. If I were a wolf, I would howl and people would understand. The tenor, the tremble, the shivering cadence. There would be no need for picking the right words, no eye contact, no consequences for an ill-timed joke, no shame for feeling everything so big and weird, like there’s a forest in my chest and a songbird choir blocking up my throat. My hands itch as the claws retract under my skin and I fight to keep from scratching, fidgeting. I turn to stare out the window.

To his reflection in the glass, I say, ‘I want you to like me.’

‘Of course I like you—’

‘I’m louder like this,’ I whisper. He looks unconvinced, which is fair. I’m still hiding. ‘Messy. Bigger and stubborn and hairier and angrier. It’s not the wolf. I’m like that too. I wanna be like that. Real. I’m so—I’m so tired. All the time. I don’t want to pretend anymore. I want to be me and I want you to like me as me.’

My back aches as everything in me crunches back into place. The wolf is asleep and it has left me alone with my words and my brother.

‘I really love you,’ he tells me as he pulls up outside my house. He puts his hand warm on mine. He doesn’t flinch at the blood. He hugs me close. Plucks a leaf from my hair.

My brother offers to come with me to tell our parents. It probably would have been smart but I’m still wary. If it goes bad…I don’t want him to see that.

‘How did it happen?’ my mother asks when I’m done, like it’s something you can catch.

For a moment, I entertain the thought of lying.

Do you remember my uni friend? Verne? Well he’s part of a pack and if he brings in three new werewolves over three months, and they each bring in three new werewolves, he gets a bonus. Why? Are you interested in this exciting new life opportunity?

I can’t joke about it yet. Worst outcome, she thinks I’m serious about it being a some kind of cult. Less worse but still bad outcome, she thinks I’m being unserious about the whole thing. Nevermind that I have thought about it every day for ten years, this inevitable confrontation, this moment where I have to explain myself, defend my existence, back up my claims with proof and research like it’s my thesis. I tell her,

‘It just made sense.’

She likes that less than she would have if I’d joked about it, gets all stiff and pinched.

‘It doesn’t make sense to me. I don’t understand where this is coming from—you’re human. You’re not –‘ She shakes her head. ‘Maybe if you left the house more often. These things you’re imagining about yourself, if you were around more people…you’re not like that. You’re lovely,’ she insists. ‘You’re not that.’

It should hurt to hear. It probably does, in a way I’ll feel five years down the line, and I’ll wish that I had bit back, told her that just because she thinks there’s something wrong with me doesn’t make it true.

My dad hasn’t said anything.

When I look at him, he’s staring down at his plate. He eats everything on it, even the tomatoes he usually tries to hide under the broccoli stems. Then he stands, puts it in the dishwasher, and walks away.

‘It’ll pass,’ my mother tells me. ‘You’ll come to your senses. This won’t last—don’t do anything permanent. Don’t do anything you’ll regret.’

Don’t give in.

Don’t transform.

Don’t smile wide enough to show your teeth.

Don’t tell anyone else.

I realise I’ve been trying my hardest not to do anything, like being nothing would be preferable to being me. When did I get the idea that to starve would be better than anyone seeing me hungry?

‘I don’t want to hide anymore.’

‘But it’s no-one’s business,’ she insists. ‘I don’t understand why anyone needs to know, I mean, I don’t go around telling people I’m human.’

The words sound different coming from her mouth but they’re the same.

It’s no-ones business but mine. That’s what I told my brother and I thought I meant it but now I think I was still scared. Biting off bits of myself before anyone pulled out the silverware and cut it from me.

There’s a bird in my throat and the little bastard is choking me. It’s not fair. I don’t want to die without saying what I mean for once.

I bite down on it, blood between my teeth.

‘It’s not the same thing,’ I snap. There’s a gorgeous growl to my words I’ve never heard before. No one told me that would happen. I love it. I love the sound of my voice. ‘No one tries to kill you because you’re human.’

‘Exactly!’

When I stand up fast, chair scraping against the floor, she freezes. Caught between telling me to pick up the chair first and not knowing how to talk to a monster in her daughter’s skin.

It hadn’t occurred to me that telling the truth wouldn’t change just me.

Staring back at my mother, I find I don’t much like the woman I see. If that’s what awaited me, I’m glad to have changed. The world is huge and beautiful and painful and I am kinder, stronger, hardier for it.

I pick up my bag from the floor.

‘I’m the same person, it’s just now you know I’m a werewolf. When we went out for lunch last week? Werewolf. When I got you groceries when you were sick? Werewolf. Every birthday, holiday, every vacation we’ve had since I was nineteen? Werewolf.’

She looks sick. Puts a hand on the counter to steady herself.

When I get home, I’m going to curl up in my closet for a week. The bird is going to come back any second now with backup. Eagles, this time. ‘I’ve had a really long time to think about this and you haven’t so I’m - I’ll give you time. But you should know that I’m happy and healthy and safe. All the things you said you wanted for me.’

As I leave her house, maybe for the last time, I hope she’ll call. I don’t know if she will.

I have been sleeping better and dreaming more. In my dreams, I am always the same. I have a wolf head, with sharp teeth and keen eyes. I sing with a powerful voice that has unsettled for centuries. I cannot see my pack but I can hear them out there, howling. My body is the same; the only difference are the claw marks across my flat chest, red and raw and careful. I am not dead, only transformed.

[nimbusclan]

Moon 4

[Previous] [Start] [Next]

Happy New Year!

///

“We would've had our warrior ceremony by now.”

Fogpaw groans at his sister, pushing past her as they climb higher up the mountain, paws farther from their territory than they've ever been. The terrain and the scents are unfamiliar and the rock is hot under their paws, baking in the greenleaf sun. They can’t go back, so they press on. “Don't start with that. I'm not in the mood for reminiscing right now.”

“No, no, listen to me.” Moonpaw bounds ahead of her brother, cutting him off and leaping atop a large rock. She puffs her chest out, head held high. “It's been twelve moons since our kitting, right? That means we should have our warrior ceremonies.”

Fogpaw eyes her dubiously, but Moonpaw spies the small smile that creeps across his muzzle. She grins, feeling flush with victory.

“What do you think Pitchstar would’ve chosen for our warrior names?”

“Why don't we pick them ourselves?” Moonpaw’s tail wags playfully. Fun and ceremony like this feels sorely needed after their long, lonesome travel. It's been four moons since their camp caved in and the two of them were forced to head out on their own. It's about time they have some fun. “I'll pick a name and you can name me,” Moonpaw says, patting the rock she stands atop with a paw, “and then we swap – I'll give you the name you pick.”

“Okay,” Fogpaw laughs. “I want to do yours first. What's your warrior name going to be?”

“Moonpool.”

“You didn't even have to think about it?”

“I’ve been thinking about it,” Moonpaw says, and it’s true, she has. She’s had a long, boring few moons to mull it over in her mind. “Okay, swap with me, give me my name!”

Laughing, the apprentices trade places, Moonpaw hopping down from the rock so Fogpaw can scramble atop it and look down at his sister.

“I, Fogpaw of NimbusClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down upon– what're the words?”

Moonpaw rolls her eyes. He should have let her go first. “Look down on this apprentice,” Moonpaw recites easily. She's been looking forward to this since her nursery days. It’s not anything like how she dreamed it would be, but having Fogpaw smiling down at her makes the unorthodox celebration worth it. “They have trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend them to you as a warrior in their turn.”

“Wow, you seriously have that memorized?”

Moonpaw carries on, ignoring him. “Do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?”

“Well, do you?” Fogpaw leans down on the rock, gesturing to Moonpaw.

Emotion swells in Moonpaw’s chest. “I do.”

Fogpaw smiles warmly at her and sits upright. “Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Moonpaw, from this moment on, you will be known as Moonpool.” Fogpaw cocks his head at her, a considering expression on his face. “StarClan honors you for your judgment. We welcome you as a full warrior of NimbusClan.”

Fogpaw leaps down from the rock to rest his muzzle atop Moonpool's head and she licks his shoulder in turn, eyes misty with emotion.

“Thank you,” She whispers when he pulls back.

He grins at her. “Don't get sappy just yet, you have to do mine now!”

“Right, right, okay.” Moonpool hops up onto the rock, the greenleaf sun warming her shoulder blades. “Did you think of a name?”

Fogpaw's eyebrows draw down in thought. “Hmm…”

“How about Fogfreckle?” Moonpool suggests, pointing at him with her tail. “On account of your markings?”

He looks over his shoulder at his dappled pelt. “Okay. Yeah, I like it.” He turns back to smile up at her. “Fogfreckle it is.”

Moonpool grins, then draws in a deep breath and recites the ceremonial words once more.

“By the powers of StarClan, I grant you your warrior name. Fogpaw, from this moment on, you will be known as Fogfreckle.” She watches as Fogfreckle swells with determination. Her eyes shine, and she continues without hesitation. “StarClan honors your courage. We welcome you as a full warrior of NimbusClan.”

She hops down to rest her muzzle atop Fogfreckle's head, and then both cats tip their heads back and bellow across the mountain.

“Moonpool! Fogfreckle! Moonpool! Fogfreckle!”

Filled to the brim with excitement and ceremony, the pair of them chase each other around the mountain, laughing and leaping at each other and wrestling across the warm ground.

“So, are we going to stand vigil?” Fogfreckle asks, panting with exertion from their play fight.

“Stand vigil where? We don't have a camp to guard.”

“Wherever we find to sleep tonight,” Fogfreckle shrugs, a smooth roll of his shoulders under sun-warmed fur. “We can take turns, like with the names. I'll guard you first, and then you can guard me. We're warriors of NimbusClan, and we protect each other.”

Moonpool smiles at him, having to fight back the beginning prickle of emotion behind her eyes. “Pitchstar would be proud of you, you know. Not only as your mentor, but as leader.”

Fogfreckle grins at her. “You basically mentored me the rest of the way.”

“Me?” Moonpool is surprised, her eyes widening. “Hardly! You didn't need any of my help,” she laughs.

“I learned a lot from you. I'm still the better hunter,” he adds without an ounce of modesty, and Moonpool laughs and throws her shoulder against his, “but I don't think I could've done this without you by my side. You’re… I really look to you for guidance. I probably would've been killed by those cats if you hadn't come to rescue me on the border that day. You're more… you think first, which I’ll admit I don’t always do. You'd make a good leader, I think.”

Moonpool is shocked, embarrassed, but nonetheless pleased. “Come on. I got scared by a mouse earlier. That's hardly leadership material.”

Fogfreckle shrugs, but he's smiling. “Leaders can always use a bit of humility. Either way, you'll make a great warrior, Moonpool.” His smile turns teasing. “Especially with me by your side.”

She knocks her head against his affectionately and then races up the mountain, calling after him to chase her.

[Previous] [Start] [Next]

[whinysoobin]

Too thick... c.yj

Choi Yeonjun x fem reader

Genre: smut (MDNI- minors do not interact )

Warnings: overstimulation (f! Receiving), gagging, cum swallowing (pls no). Nothing else ig..

Being fucked by your cousin during the visit to your ancestral house in bussan, isnt the greatest thing you did.... Sure the ghosts of your ancestors which roam around would be disgusted but more over yall were fucking in the room which belonged to your great great great great.... (Etc. Etc.) Grandmother. Or some grandmother of your mother's side.

But you didnt have time to think of all that.. The last thing you wanted to worry about is which ancestor's room this was while being fucked dumb on yeonjun's cock. Splitting you open as he thrusts in deeper and faster. Your hands claw his back and he lets out a deep moan.

Due to in the intense pace of yeonjun, you already found your self in your 3rd orgasm, and him not even done with his first release. Are men supposed to have this much stamina? Yeonjun takes your leg up to his shoulders to get you deeper.

"T-to mu-much! To-too much!" You whine overstimulated as fuck as you release your 3rd orgasm. Yeonjun lets out a frustrated moan. Something was wrong. So you decided to ask him.

"I-is something wrong j-jun? Im sor-"

"No, no, its just.... I cant feel you at all.." Yeonjun pulls out of you. He lays next to you,his cock still rock hard and throbbing as he takes off the condom. Then you realise it, making you slightly giggle. Yeonjun shoots you a confused look hearing you giggle.

"I think those condoms are extra thick. You should have read the label before buying it" yeonjun lets out a groan as he realises. But as he got up your hands find his wrists. You looks at you and tilts his head.

"You are still hard" you point out.

"I know, but its oka-"

"Are you serious iam not just gonna let you go when you fucked me soo good whereas you didnt even get to release once? You need to feel good too!" You get up and your knees hit the floor as yeonjun stares at you in slight shock. But smirks slightly when you wrap your hands around his big leaky cock.

"You dont have to if you dont like"

You didnt respond, instead you wrapped your lips around it, swirling your tongue making sure to lick up all the precum you could.

"F-fuck y/n"

Yeonjun hands find their way towards your hair as he slightly tugs them. As you suck his tip he let's out a loud moan. He sounded absolutely beautiful. Hearing loud pornstar moans slip out of the mouth and knowing that you made him do it, gave you little more confidence knowing he enjoyed it.

He pushed you down even further. the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat as you gagged on the rest of it.

"god…you're s-so perfect like this"

His praises were enough for you to push through, you moved your head back up and then immediately back down to take him in fully again. You could tell he was about to finish because his hips bucked into your mouth. And you repeat your motions pulling each and every sound out of him.

it wasn't much longer before you felt his hot cum inside of your mouth, leaking down your chin as you pulled him out. You wiped you face with the back of your hand as yeonjun collapses onto the bed. You chuckle as you lay next to him.

"fuck, i never knew you were this good..." Yeonjun says as his hands wrap around your body as he cuddles you in. You squish you face into his chest as he chuckles.

"I never knew i was this good. But now that i heard the sounds you make... I kinda feel like an expert even tho this like my second time giving someone a head"

"Who was first?"

"Why would you ask?" You raise your eyebrows at his direct question.

"Just asking" yeonjun shrugs.

Just minutes later you both hear the bell ring. That's when it snapped you both that your parents would have came back from the store. You and yeonjun immediately jump out of bed to get your cloths on.

....

"Where were you both?" Your mother asks and soon she spot you both coming out of the room.

"Just playing games aunty" yeonjun responds quickly with a fake smile on his face like he wasnt lying straight to her face.

"Dinner will be ready in a hour i think... I hope you both aren't hungry" yeonjun's mom says.

"And pack your things we will be leaving after lunch. I think we have cleaned up this place well enough." You mother says as she looks around.

....

"Dont worry. We will see each other again" yeonjun whispers to you as both your mothers say bye to each other. You weren't sure if it would happen any soon because the last time had seen him was when he was 14 and you were 12 and now you were 18.

"Yeonjun say bye to y/n" his mother says as she gets in the car.

Yeonjun hugs you as he whispers "i love you, take care"

.... Years later-

"Hey y/n!! I found this really cool group which makes amazing music! U should listen! And look at this guy! He is one of the group member " you didnt even advert your gaze from your book as your friend goes on and on about her kpop.

"Hey just look at how handsome he is!" Your friend slaps your shoulders to look at her phone. You frown a little as you finally look at the picture not recognising it at first but..

"Yeah yeah he look sooo good- wait.. Whats his name again?" You face suddenly changes as you take in the picture clearly.

"I know right! I knew u would have a crush on him the moment you look at this! His name is yeonjun-" so you were right this was him. "You should stan txt girl! I have been telling you to stan kpop but all you do is keep your nose stuffed inside that book" her words make you finally place a bookmark and close your book. As you kept it on the table your friend fake gasps teasing as you see a big grin spread across her face.

"You know what? Tell me more about this group.."

—★—

Note: this was actually supposed to be small smut(drabble? I forgot what it is called.) Much shorter than this. Only the first part planned in my head. But the more i write, more ideas i get. So idk if i should turn this into a fic.

(Should i? ) (Asking for your ideas and opinions)

The title is a bit weird yk.... I meant the condom not umm.. Maybe him too >_<!

Let me know if you enjoyed this. Feedbacks really appreciated.!! :D

If you have any requests or ideas. My Ask page and inbox is open!

[k-evans-reads]

The Spare

We do NOT give permission for our works to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. Our work is our own.

Summary: When Princess Rosie unexpectedly is thrust into a political tour of the country, a working-class Air Force Captain is assigned to be her pilot. Although the princess is unhappy about the decision, she realizes she’s stepping into unknown territory when the unexpected happens

Intro l Main Masterlist | The Spare Masterlist

By @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour

Word Count: 5,672

The door shut firmly behind the Princess’ Private Secretary, leaving the four highest-ranking members of the Royal Family in the oversized room alone. An uneasy silence lingered past the echo’s reverberation, only adding to Rosalie’s anxiety. She shifted on the plush cushion, running her hand along and smoothing her skirt as she cleared her throat and looked towards her father, asking, “What did you hear from the doctor? Do they know for sure what’s going on?”

The prim-and-proper King was unusually disheveled, wearing a wrinkled dress shirt, bare feet, and unstyled hair. It was always ingrained in the Royal Family from a young age that they were to uphold the image, the one of privilege, beauty, and elegance. She could still remember from a young age the uncomfortable hours on end she’d stand straight at parades, waving and smiling at each cheering member of the public as her feet ached and cried for relief. But as the years went on, the more strict the rules would become. Seeing the vast juxtaposition of the way her father looked now only reminded her how serious this was.

Her brow arched as she took her father’s appearance in more - the heaviness in his expression, the rigidity of his frown, the hunch of his shoulders. “They’re still looking into things further but what they know for sure is that it was a heart attack,” King Joseph began, pausing as his eyes danced over the portraits of their ancestors hanging from the walls around them. Then, Rosie felt a pang of sympathy as the familiar mask slipped over Joseph, as if an outsider or staffer walked into the room - the way the tension and strain left his body in a microsecond as he sat up straight, his frown leaving his face. “They think I’ll be fine but I probably do need some time to recover.”

A soft tut echoed from her mother’s lips - one that barely toed the line of daring to challenge him - before Genevieve gently corrected his words to their children, “No, they told him he had to have time to recover.”

Rosie’s head turned to look at James as he opened his mouth, but then took a beat then let out a breath as he delicately asked, “So what does that look like?”

The tension returned to Joseph’s body and in Rosalie’s stomach as reality set in for everyone. Everyone knew that this was a lot more than just a family worried about their father’s health, it meant so much for them and the country and she couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach as he answered, “Probably a month off completely.” The King admitted unhappily to the Prince and Princess. Subconsciously, her posture straightened as his eyes landed on her, and she avoided the desire to avert her eyes under his occasionally-scrutinizing gaze. “Which would mean that I do need you to take over my duties during that time, and Rosalie, I will need you to officially take James’ spot on the tour. I know you were hoping that you wouldn’t have to fill in but I am going to need you.”

“It’s fine, we want to do what we can to help you recover,” she began, pausing as she struggled with how to word her concerns. Navigating a relationship with her father had always been a little bit difficult when they had moments that were more normal and familial and others that were all business. Royal life may have been hailed as glamorous and exciting, but Rosie knew how complicated and burdensome it could be. At times they felt like a real family, loving and caring for one another and having honest conversations but other times, they had to stay restrained, knowing that no matter what, the crown always came first. The truth of the matter was that - at times - her father’s role and actions intimidated her. Rarely did she have the loving paternal figure at her side as a child, more often under the care of the Palace nannies while her parents fulfilled their roles. Her thumbs itched to fiddle nervously but she restrained herself, instead finally asking, “What are we going to do about touring the coast with all the protests going on? Are we cutting that out?”

The King nodded, his lips pursed as he sprung into what was likely an already prepared response, “Well I think-”

But Genevieve rested her hand on the King’s arm, causing him to cut off as she reminded him, “No, you need to let James decide. He’s the one who’s taking on your duties, remember?”

A huff of air left his lips as he nodded shortly. “You’re right,” he conceded. “James, what do you want to do?”

The eldest was quiet for a long beat, his fingers tapping lightly on the plush arm of the couch. He stared straight ahead as he thought, his eyes landing on one of the portraits as well until his gaze turned to her, asking, “Rosie, do you have thoughts?”

A smirk appeared on her lips as she looked at James, catching the amusement in his eyes at the action. “Cancel the tour and don’t make me go,” she muttered playfully, ignoring the frustrated sigh from both of her parents.

“Very funny,” James chided, lightly elbowing Rosie in the hip as her father stared at her plainly.

But Rosie shook her head, her eyes staring at James. “You know I’m not kidding,” she reminded him. She shrugged her shoulders, her eyes quickly moving over her father before she looked at James again, remembering her earlier conversations with him about their younger sister. “I do terrible on these things anyway, I think Annie should go instead.”

Quickly, the King interrupted the siblings, declaring, “That’s not happening, Anneliese is too young and inexperienced.”

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Rosie thought back to how different things had been for Annie as compared to herself and James’ childhoods. While Rosie and James spent much of their adolescence bouncing in and out of boarding schools, then stepping into international tours accompanied by the King and Queen, Annie had it different. She often was left behind at home, seen as “too young” while her siblings juggled their prestigious and elite schooling with the duties of active royals, despite their adolescence. There’d always been this double standard, and while she would do anything to keep Annie as far from the machine of Royal life, she wished she had the same choice for herself.

James simply arched an eyebrow, looking at the King and reminding him, “Aren’t I making the decisions here?”

But Joseph scowled, pointing out, “Well I haven’t heard you make one yet.”

Several beats of silence passed, the tension rising between James, Rosie, and Joseph. Finally, James huffed out a breath, running his hand over his shirt. “….Rosie you have to go,” he murmured, avoiding her eyes.

There was silence for a moment and Rosie could see how pleased James’ decision made their father. But despite that, she could see the struggle in James’ face as he contended with putting his sister or her duty first. “If we cut out the coastline visits though, then it would only be a month,” she began quietly, watching James carefully. “We would avoid the protests, and then I’d be back and dad can do the rest once he’s better. This seems like a great solution.”

Both father and son rolled their eyes at Rosie’s insistence in getting her way. She was steadfast in the fact that for four years now, she’d done more than her fair share of public service - spending more time on airplanes, trains, ships, and in cars than in her own bed. She’d missed so much, she missed her friends, getting to focus her efforts on her charity outreaches, and getting to see Annie grow into the young woman she was now. But despite that, it seemed no one else realized the toll covering for James and Joseph had taken on her.

“More like a great way of you getting out of this,” James retorted, his voice barely louder than the crackle of the fire next to them and the echo of footsteps passing by outside the closed door.

But Rosie’s brows furrowed at James’ words, frustration rising as her opinion continued to be ignored. “When James got back I was supposed to finally get a break,” she reminded them, her voice quiet but firm. And that had been the deal - she had graduated from university, then was thrown into four years of public duty with no downtime to breathe, all so James could serve in the Air Force. Any time she brought up needing a few days to herself, it had always been “Once James is home, you can… you’ll have all the time you need.” It seemed as though that promise was not only empty, but had been forgotten.

But the look in her father’s eyes showed Rosie that he remembered that promise - and yet he was continuing to break his word. “I’m sorry Rosalie,” he began, pausing delicately before adding, “But the positive of me being less visible while I recover is that it gives you the chance to be more involved.”

A scoff escaped Rosie’s lips and she didn’t care to stop it, letting her anger rise a bit. “What have I been doing the last four years, then?” She asked incredulously.

“You’ve been standing in James’ place and in his shadow but this is your chance to be Princess Rosalie, all on her own and be who you are, not fulfilling James’ role,” Joseph tried to reason with her, and she arched a single brow at him. Standing on her own, outside of James’ shadow?! As much as they all liked to pretend it wasn’t the case, she’d always been and always would be in his shadow. The first-born, golden child of Ellington. She’d never hold it against him, but she didn’t think there was a single conversation she’d ever had with anyone, whether other dignitaries, tutors, or acquaintances, where James wasn’t brought up despite his absence. When you’re constantly reminded of being the second-best, the spare, and the insurance when compared to the eldest, who had their own miserable circumstances as well. It was all impossible, and it seemed Rosie stepped on the Palace’s lines much more than anyone had in the past.

Heavy was the head that wore the crown, but the pressure forced upon Rosie seemed to rival it, even on the best days.

“I think we all know I can’t be who I am,” she started, her voice quivering in her rising frustration. She ran a hand along her skirt, fingers coming to rest on an errant strand of fabric that her seamstress evidently missed. “Look, I’m not trying to be difficult, we just all know that none of this is me. I was happy to stand in for James while he did what he wanted being in the Air Force but I thought that it was finally my chance to have some space.”

James’ eyes showed the weight on him, the internal struggle between duty and family. He cleared his throat quietly before whispering, “It’s only two more months, Rosie.”

“It just seems like there’s always something else. You think it’ll be the end and then the rug gets pulled out from under you,” Rosie muttered, her fingers lightly twisting the fabric, careful to not pull it from the skirt.

Joseph’s expression seemed heavy, his eyes pointed towards the ground as a hand covered part of his face, deep in thought. “I know it’s not ideal, but we need you to do this,” he decided, eyes coming to meet Rosie’s before he gestured to James. “James is the ultimate authority on it though.”

The Prince nodded, his shoulders squaring resolutely. “We don’t have a choice. Rosie, it has to be you,” he agreed, his voice strained despite his confident demeanor.

Rosie shot a look at the silent Queen, her eyes watching the conversation between her husband and eldest children intently. As she met Rosie’s eyes, the young woman shot her a pleading look, all but begging her to speak up.

Their mother hummed, giving Rosie a tight-lipped smile. “I think there is a security risk though,” she conceded sweetly, and Rosie’s shoulders slouched as she let out a small gasp of relief as her mother - the normally silent, meek woman - spoke up on her behalf.

But James ignored the magnitude of the situation, simply stating, “Then we’ll get more guards and protection.”

Rosie didn’t suppress the eye roll this time, huffing as she did so. She knew she shouldn’t be surprised. It had always been the King and Prince show - it always would be, that was simply the nature of their life. The heirs mattered above all else, and their opinions shaped the lives of every person in the family. But she had continually struggled with the idea of letting it dictate her life, she wanted nothing more than to have some semblance of autonomy, despite knowing it was never in the cards, at least not now.

But it didn’t mean James’ insistence didn’t hurt. She felt he always understood where she was coming from, always looked out for her and Annie. But now, she was really seeing James step into the leadership position for the first time.

“Or I just don’t go, just reminding you all that it’s an option,” she muttered, waving a hand. Her frustration was cresting as the two men ignored not only Rosie’s, but her mother’s points as well - points that in all honesty scared Rosie.

The situation outside of the capital of Ellington was tenuous at best. Tensions had been rising for months now, and while King Joseph’s decision to keep silent may have been smart at first, it had done nothing to turn the tide since. And now to be sent into the lion’s den in all honesty scared Rosie. She was no stranger to security protocols, risks, and threats, but this had much eclipsed any past risks Rosie knew of. Each member of the Royal Family was under a microscope, never deviating from an internal schedule, always accompanied by several security members. And that was just what Rosie knew - she was sure there was more she was not privy to that James and her father were aware of.

A sudden loud crackle of the fire brought her out of her thoughts to find James rising, moving to pour himself a drink from the carafe on the long table nearby. She watched the sharpness of his shoulders, the unfamiliar stressful strain as he moved, causing Rosie to arch a brow at the sight. “I have to be here to step up in dad’s place. Rosie, you’re going to have to get used to this more.” James spoke dismissively.

She couldn’t help but look at James, her brows raising as fast as her anger - reaching levels she never knew James could elicit. “I’m the one who’s been doing this the past four years, remember?” Rosie asked sarcastically, her voice anything but amused.

He avoided her eyes, a hand reaching to run down his face as he attempted a placating, “It’s only two more months…”

She pushed out a breath, ready to respond when a sharp knock sounded at the door. All eyes landed on the oversized double wooden doors as the King’s Secretary waited for any protest before the doors pushed open.

The sudden intrusion didn’t seem to take anyone by surprise, but Rosie’s brows quickly furrowed as the aide stepped aside to reveal Edward Henry - the Communications Secretary for the Royal Family - and quite honestly Rosie’s least favorite person, who was carrying a large stack of papers.

She’d long struggled with the ‘duty’ aspect of her birthright position, the responsibility forced on her by an institution when all she wanted was normalcy. But between a lack of a proper childhood, wanting a normal university experience, being outspoken by nature, and maybe having a few brushes with untrustworthy so-called ‘friends’, she’d landed herself on Edward Henry’s bad side… quite literally for life.

At her father’s warm greeting to Edward after his obligatory bows to each member of the family, Rosie’s frustration grew. She knew she shouldn’t have come - she’d had a bad feeling about this meeting ever since receiving word of it at breakfast. Her suspicions grew when she realized Annie was omitted from the group, removing what would’ve been Rosie’s only true ally from the room and all conversations. But now, to see that the intention was never to plan a tour or shift schedules around to accommodate the King’s sudden change in health…. It was to focus on her.

The Palace and Royal Family both had struggled at times with her, Rosie could admit that herself. She felt as though she could never do things right, never be the person they tried to mold her to be. She was rigid in ways the Institution needed her to be pliable, soft in the ways they needed her to be tough, and sour when they needed her to be sweet.

“You’re joking me right?” Rosie finally spoke, arching her brow at her father as he warmly shook Edward’s hand, seeing the label ‘ITINERARY’ scribbled across the files he began handing to her father.

The King’s face hardened instantly. “Rosalie, don’t even start,” he warned, holding out his hand for Queen Genevieve to greet Edward.

But Edward was unphased, used to her often brash ways. “Princess, we have your itinerary to go over and I’d like to discuss some different things we’d like you to incorporate in your speeches at each one. Also we have picked out which charities you’ll be endorsing along the tour,” he informed her, handing copies of the folders to her mother and brother before sitting in the empty armchair between the two occupied sofas. His hand moved to hand her a copy, but ceased when the furious expression on her face was noticed.

A bitter chuckle escaped her. “So none of this mattered,” she mused, frowning as she looked at her father pointedly. “No matter what I said or felt or even what James decided didn’t matter because everything was already decided on,”

But the man simply shrugged as he paged through the plans, brows furrowed while he sat down on the sofa again. “We had to make a plan,” he informed her, as if it was that simple.

With a roll of her eyes, Rosie pushed herself off the couch. “Fine, then make your plan. It’s obvious you don’t need me here for any of it,” she informed them, dropping her eyes as she moved towards the shut doors. She could hear the sharp breath her mother took at her outright rudeness towards not only Edward, but James and her father. A scowl crossed Rosie’s lips as her eyes prickled with tears and she focused on the sound of her heels as she raced to the door.

If anyone attempted to say anything or chastise her, she didn’t hear - nor did she care - as the door practically slammed behind her. The guards standing outside the door pointedly avoided her eyes, telling Rosie everything she needed to know about what they heard. She had already turned to leave the wing when that thought made her stop. Her lip was quivering as she met the older guard’s eyes - Albert, she reminded herself, he’d accompanied her to riding lessons as a young girl - and she was surprised when he silently led the other guard to stand across the hall instead without a word, giving her the encouragement she needed.

She stood just beyond the door, giving herself enough space to make an escape if needed, but close enough to be able to hear the conversation inside.

Despite her mother’s objection, they’d clearly moved on from her outburst as she heard her father speaking, his voice carrying easily. “James, there’s a lot riding on that tour. I don’t have to tell you with all the political tension going on and protests, everyone is going to be looking at this tour and how it goes.”

“What your dad is saying is you’re going to need to keep an eye on Rosalie,” her mother said, and Rosie’s brow furrowed. She’d been doing just fine the last few years - handling double duty without anyone batting an eye. Why is she all of the sudden not good enough? But she caught herself as she thought - remembering that the golden boy had been occupied with serving Ellington in the Air Force. They must’ve had to make due with “second-best”, and Rosie’s best was no longer good enough.

But she was surprised when James was the one to speak, defending her and saying, “She’s been in my place the last couple years though and she’s done fine.”

A bitter chuckle escaped Edward and Rosie wanted nothing more than to disappear at that second, admittedly it was all she’d ever wanted. “It depends on the way you look at it,” Edward pointed out.

But James wasn’t going down without a fight, pointing out, “Well the press love her. I mean, there isn’t hardly a week that went by that the people’s princess wasn’t splashed on some headline.”

The scowl returned and the tears threatened to leak from her eyes as Edward finally contributed, his voice like nails on a chalkboard to her as he said, “And that’s the problem. You may love Rosalie’s personality but currently she’s in line to the throne after you and represents the royal family. If she were the youngest it would be different but she has to start taking this seriously and be more neutral.”

She tapped her fingers against her side nervously. Rosie had always known that this was the opinion of her amongst those on the outside of the family, who worked to polish and prime them. They’d attempted to do so to her for years, but they’d always gotten along like oil and water. But to be confronted with this and to overhear this, to know her own parents felt this way, hurt.

However, a small flutter of hope settled in her as James again attempted to defend her, his voice unwavering as he said, “She’s right, she has stepped into my role the past couple years and done well.”

“We just don’t think she fully sees the weight of this because you’re the one who’s next in line to the throne,” Joseph admitted, and Rosie had to do everything she could to keep herself quiet.

Yes, James’ role was unique and seemed miserable in itself. He had no choice in his life, in his future, in anything - even more than Rosie. But to live this life solely being second-place, second-loved, second-everything to someone was a different kind of miserable. You couldn’t compare the two, but neither were ideal, and for anyone to try to frame it that way completely ignored everything both she and Annie had gone through.

The grating returned to Rosie as Edward - the absolute bane of her fucking existence - unnecesarily added, “Ellington has only ever had two Queens both of them knew how to fall in line. Nobody knows what to do with Rosalie and it’s not a great look for the palace.”

“People relate to her though!” James insisted, his voice rising.

“Royals aren’t supposed to be relatable, if they are, what’s the point of having them?” Edward challenged.

There was a long silence and Rosie found herself stuck between wanting nothing more to leave and forget this all ever happened, just like she had so many times before in her life, and wanting to creep closer as the fear of missing something grew as the silence continued. Her mind was still racing, fighting against itself as she stood frozen with nearly trembling ankles when she heard James’ voice. It was soft, as if the fight had left him as he helplessly asked, “…So what do you suggest I do?”

“Just do what you can to help this tour go well. A lot hinges on this and her,” Joseph encouraged, his voice suddenly softer as well. A slight scowl graced Rosie’s lips at that realization, knowing that James often got a side of their parents that neither she nor Annie ever got. He’d gotten the most time with them - whether because of duty or love, it almost didn’t matter. She saw how much Annie yearned to have the relationship James had with them, and she found herself wishing for it at times too.

Her ear pressed closer to the overly-ornate wooden doors, yearning to hear more, but she wished she hadn’t as Edward explained, “What the Prince said isn’t wrong. The public is for the Princess, but in this tumultuous time, we need her to present more stability. People need to be comforted knowing that the royal family is stable and has the country’s best interest at heart.”

She stared at the floor, brows furrowing and confusion flooding her at those words. Unstable? Her? Sometimes she felt like the only sane person in this equation.

Her confusion was shared as James - his voice strong and firm - pointed out, “I don’t think Rosie can really be categorized as unstable.”

But Edward simply chuckled again, explaining, “Saying things off script in speeches or breaking social norms for royalty is viewed as unstable.”

“We just need her to be a constant unwavering person that people can look up to, especially when it got leaked about my health.” Her father spoke strongly. Rosie felt a pang of sympathy - if this heart attack had never happened, then maybe this wouldn’t be happening. But it all seemed too convenient, the empty promises of privacy and autonomy, the sudden return of James. “We need steadiness. This tour is what can bring it and allow everyone to see Rosie as the one to help bring it.”

“I know she can do it, I just wish she didn’t have to,” James admitted, and Rosie sighed at those simple words, knowing just how much honesty was behind them.

She wasn’t surprised when her father spoke again, his words reeking of lessons a life in the public eye and service had given him. “Our life is a heavy burden at times, but whether good or bad, the crown has fallen on us. That includes Rosalie and we have to make sure we steward it well, and that matters more than any of our personal feelings.”

Tears burned at Rosie’s eyes as the weight of what they were saying sunk in. She wasn’t stupid, she was painfully aware of her image and what people thought of her. Her entire life was dictated by it and what was or wasn’t on the front page of a newspaper. The past four years she had done everything in her power to push down who the real Rosie was, trying to step into James’ shoes to allow him to have the bit of fleeting normalcy they all craved but always seemed to elude them. It had nearly killed her to shove so much of herself down, but she had done it for her duty, her country, and - most of all - for her brother. But now to hear that it wasn’t good enough? It felt like rubbing salt in the open wound on her heart.

She had absolutely no idea what else they could possibly want from her short of ripping away every single part of her personality. And the worst part? It seemed fruitless. No matter what she did, it just always fell short. Her only saving grace that kept some hope alive inside of her was that James was back. He was her only shot at being able to get some of herself back that had been buried little by little.

Once Rosie heard the group stand and pleasantries being exchanged among her parents and Edward, she raced away from the door and down the hall, not wanting to be seen. She wiped furiously at her eyes as she grappled with the onslaught of information, but quickly had to push it from her mind as her assistant called out to her, plastering a smile on her face as Claire began to explain what they needed to do to prepare for the gala honoring the military that evening.

___________________________________________________

Rosie had kept the smile glued to her face all evening, determined to be on her best behavior. While she may have chosen the other option in the past - the “fine, I’ll be what you think of me” option - today, she couldn’t. If she did, she knew what was at risk, what was on the line, and she just couldn’t stomach willingly doing it tonight.

She’d made her rounds, thanked as many service members she could find, listened to as many stories as she could stomach, laughed as many times as she could without a hint of humor actually being behind it, and had finally escaped to the side room with Claire to fix the strap of her heels when James slipped into the otherwise-empty room.

She avoided his eyes with everything in her, instead taking a long sip of her champagne to quell her nerves when James came to stand next to her, his voice low despite Claire’s proximity.

“Rosie c’mon, I know you don’t want to do this. I get it. I wish I could give you a break but I don’t have a choice,” he pleaded.

Her shoulders hunched, knowing he was truly stuck. He had to live up to what their father expected - what everyone expected - but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to go against her big brother. “I know you don’t, and I don’t mean to make it harder on you. I just suck at all of this, James.” she explained.

“No you don’t. The press is for you, everyone loves you,” he reminded her, his voice soft and sweet. She appreciated the sentiment - but it felt empty to her after what she had overheard merely hours earlier.

“I just was hoping I’d finally have a break,” she admitted with a whisper, not knowing how to put it more simply than that.

James sighed, his frustration at the impossible situation evident. “I’m sorry, Rosie,” he murmured, and there was no doubt in Rosie’s mind that he was honest. “I love you and you know I’m going to do what I can to make it easier.”

“I love you too and I don’t want to be difficult, I really don’t,” she explained, turning as Clarie finished and scampered back into the party, leaving the siblings alone with the guards standing by the doors. “I’m just… disappointed I guess and I feel bad because I don’t want to make this worse on dad or you. I just hate doing these tours.”

“I had an idea though,” James began, pausing as Rosie arched a brow at him. He took a deep breath, evidently steeling himself.“What if I asked my friend to be your pilot for the tour? You remember Chris, right? My best friend from the Air Force? He’s standing out there right next to the bar.” He asked, pointing through the glass doorway to Chris.

Rosie sighed, not feeling like any of this was a good idea - especially from James - after this afternoon. There was just too much going on, Rosie feeling like so much had been shaken today. “Can’t Martin do it?” She asked, her voice meek. She knew if she had to go on this tour, if she had to deal with the risks and the tensions associated with it, that comfort would do her good. And Martin - the longtime Palace Security Head, who all but attended all of her birthday parties growing up and was truly like a father to her, would fit the bill.

“I need to pick someone who can also be with you to certain events to be your security and we both know Martin is getting too old for that,” James explained, nudging her with his elbow. “C’mon, would I stick you with someone shitty? Chris is the only person who treated me like a normal guy. You’d get along with him great and I can trust him.”

“I just…” Rosie’s voice started to trail as the feelings inside her were unable to come out of her mouth.

James’ eyebrows arched as he reached out a hand to rest on her arm, softly prodding, “What?”

There was so much Rosie wanted to say, but she knew at this point it didn’t matter. Everything had been decided for her as it had been for so long and she just quietly admitted, “I just wish I didn’t have to do this.”

Although James moved to wrap his arms around her, pulling her into a gentle hug, Rosie felt anything but comforted. For years she had looked forward to James returning from the Air Force, especially with his voluntary choice to stay in the service for two years longer than was customary for royals. She remembered that call, James explaining that being in the Air Force was the first time he had felt normal, been treated normal, and felt like he had a bigger purpose and that he wanted to stay longer. Rosie knew it meant she had to step up to stay in his shoes longer than anticipated but she was willing to do it for him.

But it was finally going to be her turn. She was going to be able to pull back from the spotlight, disappear the way she had wanted to for so long and try to have some semblance of a normal life. All of that had been ripped away from her in what felt like an instant, prolonging and making her presence on the country even bigger which was the absolute opposite of what she wanted, but Rosie knew she didn’t have a choice.

Two months. She could do anything for two months. And then she’d be free.

[runawaymaven]

guilty as sin ? Paul x reader part 2

Part 1

A/N: I'm taking requests for twilight! mainly the wolf pack!

You blinked, feeling a strange energy pass between you and Paul, a sensation you had never felt before. The way he was looking at you made your heart race, and his stare was so intense that you couldn’t tear your eyes away. Embry’s words echoed in your mind: "Imprinted." What did that even mean?

"Imprinted?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, looking around at the group as their laughter died down. "What does that mean?"

The room fell silent, and Sam’s expression turned serious. He cleared his throat, stepping forward and placing a hand on your shoulder. "Y/N, why don’t we sit down for a minute? I think it’s time I explain some things about... our heritage."

You glanced at Paul, whose eyes hadn't left you since he entered the room. His expression was unreadable, and it only added to the confusion bubbling inside you. Reluctantly, you nodded and followed Sam as he led you to the living room, the others staying behind in the kitchen.

Once seated on the worn-out couch, Sam leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He looked at you with a mix of concern and something else—something that made your stomach twist.

"Okay, this might sound unbelievable at first," Sam started, his voice calm but firm. "But everything I'm about to tell you is real. Our tribe, the Quileutes, have ancient legends that have been passed down for generations. Stories about our ancestors being able to transform into wolves."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Wolves? Like... werewolves?"

Sam nodded. "Exactly. We have the ability to phase into wolves to protect our people from a very specific kind of enemy—vampires. It's part of who we are, part of our duty."

For a moment, you were silent, trying to process what Sam had just told you. It sounded absurd, like something out of a movie, but the way he spoke—the seriousness in his voice—made you reconsider. There was something about Sam that was different, something about all of them.

"So... you and the others are... werewolves?" you asked slowly.

"Yes," Sam confirmed. "We all are, including Paul."

Your mind was spinning. "Okay, but what does that have to do with 'imprinting'? Embry said Paul imprinted on me, and I still don’t know what that means."

Sam exhaled deeply, exchanging a glance with Emily, who had entered the room and stood by the doorway, offering a supportive smile. "Imprinting is... well, it’s like finding your soulmate. For a wolf, when we imprint, it means we’ve found the person we’re meant to be with. There’s no choice in it—it’s an unbreakable bond. It's not something that happens with everyone, but when it does, it’s instant and powerful."

Your heart thudded in your chest as you processed his words. You turned to look at Paul, who was leaning against the doorway, still watching you closely. The intensity of his gaze made your breath catch.

"So... Paul imprinted on me," you repeated, your voice barely audible.

Sam nodded. "Yes, and I know it's a lot to take in. But Paul can explain more. I think it’d be best if you two talked."

Before you could respond, Paul pushed himself off the doorway and walked over to you, holding out his hand. Hesitantly, you took it, allowing him to lead you outside onto the porch. The cool air hit your skin as you stepped out, but all you could focus on was Paul—this boy, no, this werewolf—who had just imprinted on you.

Once outside, Paul let go of your hand, turning to face you. His expression softened, and he took a deep breath. "I know this is a lot, Y/N. And I can’t imagine how overwhelming it must be. But I want to explain what this means—what imprinting means for me, and for you."

You swallowed hard, nodding slightly. "Go on."

"When I first saw you," Paul began, his voice low and sincere, "everything shifted. It’s like... everything else faded away, and you became the most important person in my life. Imprinting means I’ll always be there for you, no matter what. It’s not just about romantic love—it’s about being whatever you need me to be. Your protector, your friend... whatever you need."

His words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. The weight of it all was so heavy, and yet, something about Paul’s presence felt... comforting.

"So, you're saying... we’re bonded now? Like, forever?" you asked softly.

Paul nodded. "Yeah. But I want you to know, I’m not here to pressure you into anything. Imprinting isn’t about forcing a relationship. It’s about being there for you, in whatever way you want. I’ll wait for you, no matter how long it takes."

Your heart fluttered at his words, but your mind was still racing. This was all too much, too fast. But at the same time, something about Paul’s presence felt undeniably right, like the pull you felt earlier wasn’t just a fluke.

"I... I don’t know how to feel about this," you admitted, looking away for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts.

Paul stepped closer, his voice gentle. "I get it. Take your time, Y/N. I’m not going anywhere."

You looked up at him, meeting his gaze, and for the first time for a while, you felt a small sense of comfort.

"Okay... I think I need time to think about this. Process it"

[avidhorrormoviefan]

Neteyam x Na’vi!Fem!Reader

an: i wrote this so long ago i forgot about it but here you go

there might be some grammar errors here and there but i’ll go back and fix it when i feel like it lmao

i loved writing this omg

warnings: fingering, slight hair pulling, p in v, cumming inside, in a forest smh

everyone in this is 18+!!

smut under cut

Flying through the air on your ikran in the dead of night, Neteyam and you moving fast. Both of your hair whipping in front of your faces. Swooping down and knocking into each other, playfully (he started it). You’re following him, not knowing where he's going. You’ve never been to this part of the forest before. Going deeper and deeper into the woods, Neteyam looks back at you and signals you to follow him down into a clearing from the tall, thick trees. It’s so beautiful, the bioluminescence lighting up the forest.

You land on the damp grass and dismount, unbinding and calming the ikrans. You take off your riders mask and put them in a pocket on the saddle.

"Neteyam, where are we?" You ask, walking over to him as he does the same, laughing a bit.

"A spot I found a while ago," he stops a few feet in front of you, "it’s an escape from my responsibilities." He fixes his hair, moving it away from his face.

"It's nice out here. How did you find this place?" You move a step closer to him.

"One night I just flew around and I found it," he laughs, looking at you, "I've been coming out here for a couple years now when everyone's asleep. It's nice and quiet, nobody comes out here."

"Really?" you ask. He smiles and nods as a response, "Have you ever taken anyone out here before?"

He looks down, almost embarrassed. Slightly laughing he says, "No, I haven't actually. You're the only other person that knows about this place. Well maybe our ancestors," he jokes, looking at you again.

You pity laugh. "It really is nice, why haven't you ever shown anyone this place before?" you question him again. You worry if you’re bothering him with these questions for a second, but he doesn't seem to mind when he answers you again.

"I don't know, it's just nice to be alone sometimes... or with someone you really care about."

He looks deep into your eyes; they have a certain look in them, something you think you’ve only ever seen when Jake looks at Neytiri.

He takes a step towards you, starting to feel a bit nervous. The way he looks at you makes your stomach turn. You feel like he really knows you, like he knows what you’re feeling. Like you have your own bond.

"Really?" you say, voice coming out higher than anticipated.

"Yeah..." he steps another foot once more, your bodies just inches apart. He takes your left hand in his right and holds it. You look down, his eyes making you feel something you don't think you’ve ever felt from another person before.

He moves his left hand up to your chin and picks it up, your eyes meeting again.

"I see you," he says, his kind eyes widening in anticipation. Your lips part slightly at the unexpected words

"I see you, too,” you smile at him, studying his facial expressions. His big, yellow eyes twinkling in the moonlight, switching from your eyes to lips. His white glowing freckles looking more prominent than ever. His eyebrows, lips, cheeks, jawline, everything; he looks perfect. He smiles, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Neteyam moves his hand on your face up to cup your cheek. Leaning into his touch, he squeezes your hand in his. He ducks his head down a little and you share a breath. He hovers for a second, hesitant. You push your head forward and close the gap between your lips. He quickly deepens the kiss, as he shoves his head forward a bit, pushing his lips further into yours. His hand lets go of yours and puts it around your hip and starts pushing you back. Your hands on his shoulders, instinctively, and follow his lead on everything.

He slightly bites your bottom lip, asking for an entrance. Opening your mouth as a response, he moves his tongue into your mouth, slowly but surely. Your tongues dance around each other, their own act. You end up with your back to a tree, not noticing you were moving backwards, the sudden bark on your back making a gasp erupt from your throat. You’re both running out of air, but neither of you care.

He moves his hand from your cheek down to your throat, fingers pressing into the sides and the back of your neck, making your mouth open and whine quietly. He breaks the kiss, taking his head back as you look at him, his lips wet and a bit puffy, yours the same. Both, panting and out of breath, you take your hands off of his shoulders and slide them down to his chest. Him, digging his fingers farther into your skin. Your hip and neck starting to hurt, but it's good. It feels like you’re not in control, it’s nice. He puts his thigh between your legs and inches up. You let out a high pitched gasp, getting some friction. You respond by putting your knee against him, feeling his erection through the thin piece of fabric under his Loincloth.

He whines your name, ducking his head down, slowly and softly pressing his lips against your jawline, slightly moving his hand out of the way. Opening your mouth again to let out a whine, he starts kissing more roughly and biting your neck. As he does, you push your knee harder against him and he whines too, stopping his movements on your neck. He takes his hand that's on your neck and puts it on the tree behind you for stability. He moves his knee, left to right.

"Neteyam," he looks up. You take your hand off of his chest and search for your Queue. Once you find it, you look down at the end. He looks at it and straightens his back. Neteyam gets his, and you both look at each others.


"You ready?" He asks, voice low.

"Yeah," you’ve never had Tsaheylu with another Na'vi before, you don't think he has either.

The exposed nerves move to tangle with eachother so perfectly. You both whine and gasp simultaneously. You feel him. His heartbeat, his breathing, passion, love...

You look at each other, just feeling.

You move your head towards him and kiss him harshly, he returns with the same energy.

Needy, and wanting more, you push him back, as you walking him a few steps backwards, away from the tree. He pulls away, parting from the kiss. You look at each other, once more. Feeling. Knowing. Seeing.

Neteyam starts to sit down, slightly pulling you down with him. He sits down with his legs out as you kneel in front of him.

"Cm’ere," he demands, patting his lap a bit.

You agree and scoot towards him, straddling just below his lap. He looks up and down your body and smiles, his eyes twinkling in the dim moonlight.

"Ewya.. you're beautiful,” his accent coming out.

You giggle at him as he puts his hands on your waist and you move your forearms around his neck.

"Thank you," you smile.

"Can... may I.…" he laughs nervously.

"Yes," you say, smiling, looking at his face, studying him a bit more.

He sighs in relief, looking down at his lap, as you follow his gaze. He moves the thin piece of fabric covering his erection. You exhale fast as your mouth falls agape as you see finally see his length.

Neteyam watches your hand as you move the fabric around your core, putting his hand on your thigh.

"Nete..." you say as he looks up at you, "please..."

He moves his hand farther up your thigh, getting closer and closer to your cunt, not breaking eye contact.

Moving his hand slowly, he makes his way down. He runs his two first fingers down your slit to collect your wetness. You gasp sharply as he shoves one of his long fingers inside you. You slump your head into the crook of his neck, laying your forehead on his shoulder, watching his finger disappear inside you.

"Oh, fuck…” he says, feeling your warm walls flutter around his finger.

You can’t help but moan out as he starts to retract and push his finger in and out of you.

You breathe out high pitched sounds as you push your hips down into his hand.

"Mhm,” he groans out and teases another finger. This doesn’t last for long as he pushes a second finger into you, a bit of pain coming from the stretch, making you close your eyes.

“S’good…” you moan and bring one of your hands to his other and pit his fingers on your clit, showing him how to move them in the perfect motion, adding another layer of ecstasy.

He closes his eyes, feeling your body as your tail comes around from behind you and wraps around his torso and his does the same.


He breathes your name once again as his dick becomes painfully hard.

You open your eyes and look down, his erection twitches when he moves his hand again. You pick your head up and look at him, staring at his fingers inside you.

"Can I?" He looks up at you with nothing but lust in his eyes.

"Ye-yeah,” you nod and he takes his fingers out and makes quick work with your loincloths, discarding them to the side then puts his hand on the base of his dick.

You duck your head down and catch his lips in a kiss. He depends it by sticking his tongue in your mouth. He puts a hand on your hip and brings to hover above him and lines himself up with your entrance. Then he pushes inside and pulls you down onto him. You whine, Neteyam moans out.

"Fuck,” he says your name with desire dripping from every letter.

He spins you around so your back is on the ground and he is on top of you. Your wrap your legs around his waist in this new position. He pants at the new feeling of him inside you. He pulls out so just his tip is inside and looks at you, your eyes meeting for a second before he pushes back into you.

You moan out, and he does it again, your slick making it easy to move in and out.

"Fuck! Neteyam-" you cry out, your back arching, pushing your hips up into him, matching his pace.

He goes faster at the mention of his name.

Neteyam groans out, patheticly. The only sounds are panting and your skin slamming together. You put your hands on his back and dig your nails into his skin as he hits the perfect, spongy spot, deep inside you. He whines at the feeling. His arms by the side of your head buckle, landing on his forearms, as he’s lost in the feeling of your tight walls clenching around him. His right hand goes to tightly hold onto your waist, wanting to feel you fucking him back. You pick up one of your hands off his back and up into his hair, slightly pulling on the pretty braids.

His dick hitting impossibly far up into your pussy, toying on your impending orgasm. His hips starting to falter more and more every other thrust.

"Ewya... I'm..." he sighs again, unable to get full, proper words out. "I-I'm.. auhh..”


"..Don't stop, don’t sto- please.. " The pleasure growing mighty in your stomach. He goes faster and you both squeeze your eyes, tight. He keeps going, determined on making you cum, and he does as he brings his hand to your clit, playing with it just like you showed him. You cum all over him, adding to the white, sticky ring on the base of his dick. He twitches inside you as he cums, the warm liquid filling you to the brim as his arms and back flex under your touch, moaning into your ear.

"Fuck...” your name falls from his lips as he pulls out, his cum draining out of you. He can’t help but watch as it slips down your whole pussy, pooling on the ground below you.

Your queues still connected as he lays down next to you, both out of breath, as your lungs fight for air. You lay there for a minute, trying to breathe steadily, in comfortable silence.

He ponders on his words for a second before blurting out-

“I love you.”

You turn your head over to his direction, his eyes trained on the sky above him.

You prop yourself up on your elbow before sitting up fully. Your hand moves subconsciously to his. The feeling of your skin on his makes chills shoot down his spine as he looks over at you. You pick up his hand and inspect the four fingers before interlacing them in your own. He sits up and matches your position, now facing eachother.

“I love you too, Neteyam.”

He kisses you softly, hand moving to your cheek. You kiss back before he pulls away, resting his forehead on yours.

“We have to get back before my father notices we’re gone,” he says quietly.

You sigh at his words, sad that this moment has to end, but you know he’s right. “Yeah, good idea.”

[moonchildxoxx]

A Warriors beating heart

A/N: hey guys here's a little something nor is def one of my favorites and i think there not enough fics of him so hope you enjoy. pairing: Nor x fem!Sarentu reader

The warrior had disappeared from resistance , confused by anger working with the same kind  that once massacred their clan.  “What must our ancestors think of us? Do you think they pity us?….. sad to see what we’ve become.” He spoke facing out to the landscape, sharpening his spear as he sat surrounded by the bio luminescent forest. “ We are still Sarentu “ (Y/N) answered  crouching next to him, squeezing his shoulder. "Teylan barely speaks our tongue, …. but then he always preferred human words.” Nor looked up, with a deep sadness in his eyes. It became clear that Sarentu was struggling to come to terms with the fact that his life was still so reliant on humans.

 “Alma says we all need time to adjust.” She countered,  "Alma is not Na’vi. " The warrior snapped back angrily.  She sighed softly, “ Why did the RDA come back?”  Nor paused his sharpening efforts, he could have sworn there was a hint of a defeat  in her  eyes. "They wanted more of Pandora.. They always do." he said softly.  “Then we'll need to fight.” A small smile formed on his face. He tossed his knife up and down.* "Fight we will, Ahari would have wanted us to fight."  “We’ll make sure the vrrtep don’t return again “

Nor was clearly comforted by this, with a new light sparking in his eyes as he nodded.

She gently grabbed his hand brushing her fingers across his knuckles . Nor was taken aback, but the expression on his face softened as his hand twined inside hers. She stayed silent simply caressing his knuckles There was a long moment of silence, before finally the Sarentu warrior wrapped her in his arms in a tight embrace.

She nuzzled into him tucking her head underneath his chin

Nor held her tightly, resting his chin on the top of her head. His grip was tight, however his hold on her was not harsh but soft. The warrior squeezed his eyes closed, not wanting to let go.

Now that they were free he could move on with his promise they could finally bond and become mates. Nor breathed in deeply, feeling every inch of her body pressed against his. He had been waiting a long time for this moment. The long hours of hiding, surviving and suffering were all worth it if only he had her by his side. He wrapped his arms even tighter around her.

He didn't want to let go,  He looked down at her and smiled, he finally felt like he had a purpose. His voice was quiet as he brushed his lips against her forehead "(Y/N)..."

She looked up at him

His expression was filled with love, as he brought his hands up to her face, lightly caressing her cheeks with his fingers.

"Ma yawntu"

Nor chuckled . He leaned in and pressed his forehead against hers. There was a long pause before the Sarentu finally asked the all important question he had been waiting for the right moment to ask. "Will you be my mate...?"

~ Weeks later ~

Over the weeks the Sarentu had been working with the resistance and Na’vi clans to fight back the RDA Nor had been training with So’lek and she had been learning from the Aranahe healers at the moment it was one of a calm day both of them had no training or missions.

A warm summer rain pounded against the small hut Nor built for them not far from the resistance base camp . He had his back turned to the door, working on sharpening a new spear.

The smell of cooked meat was in the air, and he took a deep breath, savoring the aromas. She was cooking a recent kill he had made. A warm hand pressed against his back and Nor looked up, a smile stretching across his lips when he saw a (Y/N)  leaning in the doorway. "Come Take a break  and eat " she reminded

He quickly put the spear down and stepped over, wrapping her in his arms and carefully caressed her sides.  "I cannot believe this is real." He gently placed his hand  on her hip.

She sighed softly kissing his cheek " it is real my tiyanw" His other hand rose and he gently brushed aside her hair. She nuzzled him Nor leaned over and pressed his lips to hers for a fleeting moment, a smile on his face as he lifted her up in his arms. "My woman is all I need in this world." 

“You are sweet but don't think you're distracting me, I'm serious, take a break and come eat Nor” she scolded  "All right, all right." He chuckled softly before stepping over and sitting down next to their meal, grabbing a piece of meat and a large spoonful of vegetables, taking a bite. She sat happily next to him eating her own meal As they ate in silence a loud clap of thunder jolted the hut, making the table rattle. Within seconds, the rains were pouring down. It was as if the sky were unleashing its pent-up fury now that the warm season was finally here. Nor sat upright with his ears perked, taking in the sound of the heavy rain. (Y/N)  ears were folded back

He quickly reached over and placed a protective arm around his mate as she sat cowering. "Shh, shh, my love. There is nothing to fear. It is just a little rain." "Sorry..." she whispered out "It is okay, you have nothing to be afraid of anymore." He held her close, letting her wrap her arms around his neck.

"I am here, and I will always protect you." He said softly as he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"It sounds like gunshots" she whispered out

"What did you say?" He asked in a confused voice as he sat up, holding her close and wrapping his arms around her."The thunder is sounds like gunshots " she repeated

The warrior froze once he realized what she meant. The sound of thunder had no doubt brought back vivid memories of the massacre all those years ago. "Ssh," he whispered.

"It is just a storm."

Nor felt her heart beat rapidly against his chest as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Just close your eyes and listen to the rain , let that be your only worry right now."

"I-k-know. I know." Her breathing was fast and shallow as she struggled to keep from trembling.

The warrior's strong arm held her close, holding her tight. He brought her body even closer as he stroked her hair and placed his palm firmly on the top of the slight swell of her stomach. "Ssh, all will be alright, my love."