#I had some really restless nights in this forest
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tiredmamaissy · 1 year ago
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Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Special Episode II 
Concurrent Tides
An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff
Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info
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🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞
Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's creator @zestys-stuff. Most illustrations are now on her patreon.
Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19) Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, profanity, age gap, aggressive rut cycle, heat cycle, dom/sub dynamics, jealousy/posessiveness, knotting, marking, scenting, praise kink, breeding kink, size difference, p in v, mating/bonding, multiple climaxes, creampie, ralak is a bit of a meanie in this, let me know if I forgot anything? Word Count: 10k Requested: Yes || No Author’s Note: the second special episode is finally here. sorry it took forever to get it out, but better late than never :') i hope you guys enjoy <3 theres another part to come after this one! 🤍 Synopsis: what happens if you and your new mates cycles sync? 
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——
“Only I knot you.”
That was the first time you’d ever seen Ralaks eyes shift in colour. That same night right after he pulled you out of his memory of his first rut. A beautiful, deep blue, glistening before your honey glazed orbs. It’s barely been a week since that night, yet it replays over and over. Day and night. How he looked at you with nothing but unadulterated greed, hardly catching his breath as he tried to steady his galloping heart. It was something deep-rooted and primal. 
Something animalistic. 
Since, you’ve longed to see him fully immersed in such a state. A state where self control and sexual desire no longer coexist. He’s always too concerned with you and what he thinks you can and cannot manage that he never allows himself to do what he truly wants. The level of restraint you feel through the bond is indescribable. A level you nor any other na’vi could conceivably attain. Regardless, most nights you find yourself fantasizing about this ‘lack of control’ right before bed. 
Nights like tonight. 
Where the stars shimmer so brightly that you need to draw the curtains, and the air is exceptionally cold and crisp that you need to huddle closely together for warmth. When your nose is buried so deep into his chest that there's no other choice for his scent to fill your lungs. And tonight he smells extraordinarily good. The salt of the sea mixed with leather hide. And oddly enough, he smells like… home. The forest and its greenery. It’s quite ironic but perhaps it’s Eywa’s way of saying that this man is truly yours. It's so comforting and right. Like a cup of hot tea on a stormy night, never failing to put you to sleep. A remedy that works in seconds — but not tonight. 
Tonight you’re restless and he can sense it. 
“What is it?” Ralak husks, shifting his position to hold you a little closer. “Cold?” 
Truthfully, you’ve been feeling a little off. Your body has been restless and haunted. As if it could sense some sort of change of shift in the atmosphere. Or perhaps it was between the two of you. “No.” You mumble, lifting your head to look up at him. “Just can’t sleep.”
Ralaks ears twitch, a little surprised his typical soothing techniques aren’t working. He sits up quite quickly, bringing you up with him as he scoots back into frame of his bed. His brows lower when he ponders about what could be keeping you so on edge. He takes note of your flushed appearance and the minute changes in your eyes, they’re glowing a little brighter recently. 
His brows jump when the realisation dawns on him. 
Could it be? He knows it’s close but is it really already affecting you? How is that possible? And does that mean it will be even more severe this time around? 
He had every intention to stay but perhaps it’ll be more difficult than he expected. He should really tell you, but he knows exactly how that would play out. You would get your way as per usual, it was hard for him to deny you of anything you wanted. A quick swish of your tail and it was yours. Ralak took pride in caring and providing for you. But not for this. This was just plain dangerous. And therefore he couldn’t allow you to figure it out. It’s ultimately safer that he keeps it to himself, at least until you’ve adjusted to him a little more. Your intimate moments together are very few in number after all. 
“Why is that, tanhì?” He asks in a low, steady tone, fixing his mask of indifference tightly to his face. 
You may be a slow learner, but you weren’t slow. You could sense that he wasn’t being all that transparent with you. 
“I don’t know. Something feels off about you.” You say in an almost accusatory tone, finally sitting up to look him in the eye. He’s pale in the face and his breath becomes raggedy. “Tell me, Ralak.” 
You watch as his pupils constrict, leaving nothing but a black dot in an open sea of blue. Within a matter of seconds, they deepen in colour and his eyelids flutter shut. He clears his throat, and waits a few seconds to open his eyes. They’re back to normal but you could’ve sworn they looked different. Just like they did a few nights ago. 
“What just happened to your—” Your heart begins to race as you utter the words, only to be cut off by Ralaks hasty voice. 
“Inland. Tomorrow morning. Overnight hunting trip.” He grinds them out as if it physically hurts to say the words. Anything to keep you from figuring it out. 
What? Is he — lying to you? 
This isn’t like him. He avoided trips inland at all costs. Anything to stay with his tanhí. He’d even go as far as faking an illness, despite rarely getting ill, to get out of accompanying Tonowari. Especially for overnight trips. 
“And why did you not tell me earlier?” You manage to squeak out a closing throat, backing away to create a little distance.
He shakes his head as he blinks rapidly, staying put to allow as much space as you need. “I was hoping I did not need to go.” He utters, dropping his head to lock his gaze on your twiddling thumbs. His eyes trail up your dark blue frame, taking note of how your body is already almost trembling —already responding to him— all out of your control. He bows his head, hiding his face. “But it seems that I cannot get out of this one. I am sorry, my paysyul.” 
For a fleeting moment, you really thought this was the beginning of something bad. Something deceitful. But, his words instantly bring you comfort, slowing your leaping heart and putting your mind at ease. 
But the funny thing is that there was no lie. 
There was really an overnight trip inland with Tonowari. One that Ralak arranged himself. Tonowari was especially taken aback by Ralaks suggestion of a hunting trip and immediately queried if he was alright, putting a firm hand on his forehead to determine if he had some sort of fever. But once Ralak explained himself, Tonowari was smiling and laughing, smacking a few blows on his back as a form of approval, teasing him yet again about ‘the love story between an Akula and an ilu’. 
Your sigh brings Ralak out of his deep thought, chin leaving his chest to witness you sliding back into bed, turning on your side and backing up onto him. A smirk pulls at the his lips as he joins you, enveloping you in his warmth once more. A wave of relief washes over him as he rests his chin on the crown of your head. He’s thankful that you didn’t press any further. Otherwise, he would’ve had to reveal his best kept secret. 
His upcoming rut. 
—— 
The harsh thump of Ralaks heart rouses him to the sight of his mate clung to his chest. He admires your beauty, allowing his eyes to fall on your chest, watching closely as you breathe slowly. He gently pulls back the thin sheeting covering your body, exposing your puffy nipples to the cool morning air. When they stiffen into peaks, saliva pools in his mouth. At this point he would have looked away because of basic na’vi decency, but this morning is different. 
He allows himself to stare. To take in every detail on your chest. To sear it into his memory so he can visualise you just like this as he relieves himself. Exposed before his eyes, supple skin glistening as the rays of sunlight reflect against your freckles, exposed, stiffened nipples, that act as the perfect bait to lure in a hungry predator. 
Predator.
That’s what he’ll be in a matter of minutes. Nothing but a slave to his own urges and instincts. Ravenous. Insatiable. Voracious. With not even a sliver of self composure left to hold onto an ounce of rationality. He can already feel it creeping up on him, the hunger deep in his core turning him into the beast that he appears to be on the outside. It’s always been like this. A little too much. Too overwhelming. 
Too aggressive. 
And as the years passed it only worsened. Six unmated years. With no one but himself to make it through the tortuous few days. He just knows that he would be too rough with you. It’s his biggest fear, after all. To have no self control. To hurt the one thing he loves more than Eywa’s gift of life itself. He would sacrifice his own (life) if it meant to save yours.
He was hoping to endure it. Bite his tongue through it and be by your side. Perhaps take a long bath in the lake and crawl into bed after you’ve gone to sleep and relieve himself as quietly as he can. But now that it’s here in full bloom, he’s already having a hard time containing his urge to spread your legs and use you as his own personal fucktoy. 
But you’re more than that to him. 
And this is why he’s choosing to leave before you wake. Before he can no longer contain himself to just staring at your bare chest. Before he pulls the sheet down even further and parts your legs—already trembling from his leaking pheromones—and has a taste of his sweet, sweet tanhí. Rather, he uses his last shred of self composure to plant a firm kiss on your forehead before quickly gathering his gear and heading out the door. 
Unbeknownst to him, you were awake the entire time. 
You could feel his eyes bore into your tiny frame as the crisp morning air grazed past your nipples, just like you could feel the roughness of his kiss right above your brow. You wanted to open your eyes but the way his pheromones waft up your nose had you in a foggy trance. Your eyes burned under your eyelids and your body felt so heavy and hot. 
You couldn’t help but think, is this his rut?
To be influenced by his cycle? You had felt it before. His first rut in the flashback, but it was nothing like this. Sure, it had you shivering and a little on edge but this was to another level. You could barely open your eyes, much less get out of bed. This entire time your body has been sending warning signals that its mate was peaking in his cycle — restlessness, clinginess, the nesting. You had unknowingly gathered enough fruits and grains to last you a few days. Even in this murky state of mind you finally manage to link the pieces of the puzzle together. 
Listening to his footsteps as he walks out the marui, you muster up as much strength as you can to open your eyes. It’s blurry and honestly all just one blob. You could only make out a few colours trailing behind this gentle giant—green, blue and orange. All of which mix together and move like the aurora in the night sky. If one could see what a pheromone looks like, this would be it. When you finally get enough strength to part your chapped lips to mutter his name, the colours disappear as the marui flap closes behind him. 
You really thought that once he left and the room aired out, that the influence of his pheromones on your body would lift as well. But you were wrong. Instead, the heaviness of your body grew tenfold, making it hard to breathe. It’s as if your lungs were filled to the brim with cold water, yet they burned as you squirmed around to fill them with air. The fire in your lungs quickly spread to your extremities, leaving your entire being in a sweltering inferno. 
This feeling is familiar, yet foreign all at once. A desire so extreme it burns from within. The desire to be connected with your mate on all levels known to the na’vi. To satiate the itch of your empty, fertile womb by filling it with his seed. 
Why did you have to get your heat now?
You call for Ralak a few times in your dazed state, only for you to be reminded by nothing but the crash of the waves that he’s gone. Soon the heavy rumble of the waves is drowned out by your whimpers and whines as you call for your mate to no avail. All you can manage to do in your feverish haze is kick off whatever cloth is stuck to your body, curl into a ball and rock to ease the unbearable sensation between your legs.
All until you hear a familiar, husky voice. 
“I was doing some sessions with Ronal and—”
“R-Ralak?” You call out in relief, hoping your prayers have finally been answered. You roll onto your side and squint at the figure in the door frame. 
“Uh. Not quite.” He quickly mutters under his breath, moving his forearm to shield his nose from your strong pheromones wafting his way. “Eywa—” He mumbles the great mothers name like a curse as he looks around the marui for your mate. “Where is Tak?” 
Tak?
The more you squint your eyes, the more you’re able to make out who this figure standing in your doorway is. Your blurred vision clears just enough to reveal the unforgettable, brawny features of no other than Ka’ani. 
“Ka’ani?” You say the name slowly, unsure if you should believe your eyes. 
“Hah. What do you know…” Ka’ani scoffs, moving his arm from his face to lean in to get a better look at your condition. You’re panting yet shivering, glazed in your own sweat and slick. He smirks a little as he pulls back, spitting out the words, “…bitch in heat.” 
“What are you... d-doing here? You should leave!” You try to shout, although it comes out more as a hoarse cry. 
“Why should I? It looks like you need a hand.” Ka’ani jesters, physically extending his hand towards you as he wiggles his thickset fingers. 
“Haa. I really don’t.” You pant, hugging your knees to your chest even tighter.
“You’re sitting in a puddle of your own sweat.” Ka’ani’s voice is harsh, yet laced with concern. “And whatever else is coming out of you.” His jaw clenches and unclenches as he looks away from you, seemingly out of — respect? He catches sight of the full bucket of fresh water at your bedside, along with empty drinking bowls.
Has she not been tended to all day? Not a sip to drink? Ka’ani thinks to himself, concerned as to why Tak’s mate would be alone, uncared for and in heat of all things. 
You finally muster up the energy to tug the sodden sheet over your naked body and scoot back further to the frame of the bed. “Ralak said he will be back soon. You should leave if y-you want to live.” You lie, feeling a little threatened that a male na’vi has barged into your marui while you’re in heat. 
“Yeah, I don’t believe that for a second, y/n. None of this makes sense.” Ka’ani speaks, taking a few steps towards you. 
You shuffle even further back only for your back to make contact with the bed frame. A rush of fear surges through you. The type of fear that has your heart twisting behind your ribs. You cross your legs over one another, bunching up the sheet between them and beg with trembling lungs, “P-Please, Ka’ani. Don’t.” 
Ka’ani stops dead in his tracks, seemingly offended by your assumption that he’d be approaching you to do something that the great mother herself would look down upon. Sure, he tracked your scent last time, but he was here atone exactly for that. 
“Syor [relax]. I would never do such a thing.” He says through gritted teeth, storming towards the bedside and quickly pouring you a drink. “No matter how strong your scent is. Although, you don’t smell all that great now that you’re mated.” He chuckles lightly as he hands you the drink. Your eyes jump between him and the cup in his hand before you struggle to sit up. His hand instinctively reaches out to assist you, but you bat it away and continue to pull yourself up. 
“Just — let me help you.” He snaps, supporting your back when you finally give in. “Drink.” He commands, plunking the cup in your hand, taking a step back and crossing his arms.  
You gulp down the water greedily, finally quenching your thirst and hoping it will provide some level of relief to your febrile condition. You hum to yourself as the water makes its way down your throat, but groan when you feel no better. Meanwhile, Ka’ani takes in your state, feeling a twinge in his heart for you when he sees how you’ve been suffering. You look more than uncomfortable. You look like you’re in pain.
“You’ll be alright, y/n. Just tell me where he went and I’ll go fetch him.” He speaks in a more gentle tone, taking the empty cup from your hand.
“I-I don’t — haah. He said he went… He went inland to hunt.” You blubber out, feeling your body heat to a dangerous degree. It has you shaking as you ease yourself back into a more comfortable position. 
Ka’ani shakes his head a bit, “Inland to hunt? Really? When his mate is in heat? Tak would never. The only time he’d ever do that is if he is also… in rut.” Ka’ani stalls on the last few words that slip off his tongue, tasting them in his mouth as the realization sets in. Ka’ani quickly fills the cup, sets it next to you and bolts to the door. Before he ducks under the flap of your Marui, he looks over his shoulder and reassures you.
“Sit tight, forest girl. I know exactly where he is.”
— —
It’s been a few hours since coming to his usual spot — the waterfall with the coldest water known to the reef people. It is Ralaks most private and intimate place aside from his humble abode. A place where only a select few people know about. He’s most drawn to the low temperature of the water, making it a perfect environment to endure the heat of his rut in. 
Despite doing this for the past few years, each cycle gets a little more intense. And this one is certainly no exception. 
Ralak sits underneath the overhang, right in the dip of the plunge pool, and allows the water to beat on his back. He’s maintained this position for the past few hours, only releasing himself when the pressure in his core grows too much. A pressure so immense it would have his body acting on its own accord — a wandering hand finding its way to his swollen cock. 
Truth be told, he hated the feeling. 
He hated feeling so out of control. To be nothing but a slave to his own primal impulses. He’d fight it as much as he could, just like he is now, until the sensation is just too intense to ignore. Until he’s grunting and squirming with a body so heated it has him grinding his teeth. 
He quickly stands up, tilting his head back and covering his face from the stream of the water with his hands. At this point his cock is so swollen that it’s outright painful, throbbing and pulsing from the lack of attention. He thinks of you — your thin tail and tiny stature. The way you lay in bed this morning before he left. Naked and exposed before his eyes. Eywa, how he wishes you were here. How he could finally spend his rut with his mate, but he just knows it would be too much for you to handle. 
The thoughts of you make this no easier, sending his hips thrusting into the air — the running water stimulating his thudding cockhead. He groans from the immense pleasure a little water brings him. He’s neglected himself so badly to the point that he feels like this could really make him cum. But how many times has he cum by now? 
Once? Twice? Thrice? 
He lost count after the fifth time, not that he was keeping track anyways. If anything he was downright denying himself the pleasure, and convincing himself that he remained in control. But fuck, the image of your delicate body —the possibility that he could break you if he weren’t careful— pushes him over the edge. Before he can stop himself, his hot cum is spilling from his slit all over the length of his cock and he’s unable to keep his noises at a minimum. 
“Mmmph.” His deep growl rumbles, a hand grabbing a firm hold of his jumping cock. 
He squeezes what’s left out of his slit, finally looking down to see the state of himself. It’s red and raw — spikes fully erect and balls drawn so close to his body they’re practically hiding behind his thick knot. He lets out a loud sigh. 
Relief. 
Finally, he leans back against the rocky wall and slides down into the plunge pool, immersing himself chest deep into the water. He lightly treads back to the bank and makes himself comfortable — allowing his head to rest and body to relax. He takes a few deep breaths and tunes into the burble of the waterfall. 
All until he hears the click of a — 
Ka’ani?
“Tik-Tak.” Ka’ani clicks melodically, cautiously approaching the giant submerged in the waterfall. Ralak doesn’t budge. He remains fixed in position, eyes shut, head and elbows resting on the edge of the river. His chest heaves harshly as he attempts to remain in this less than tranquil state. “Never thought I’d see the day Ralak leaves his mate in heat. To be soaking in a waterfall of all things.” 
Perhaps Ralak heard wrong. Leaving his mate in heat? Ralak would know if his mate were in heat. He would sense it. Whatever rubbish he’s spewing out, Ralak doesn’t have the time, nor patience, for it. 
“Skxawng, what are you on about? Leave me be.” Ralak huffs, wiping the sweat from his face with a quick hand movement.
“Just as I thought. You’re all hot and bothered too, aren’t you?” Ka’ani chuckles. 
“Leave.” Ralak says angrily, his purplish-blue eyes finally snapping up to meet Ka’ani’s. “I have just calmed.”
Ka’ani’s brows knit together, offended and a little confused with himself for being upset from the way Ralak is shooing him away. 
“Oh c’mon brother. All I’ve been told today is to leave!” Ka’ani’s hands fly up as he takes a step forward. “First your mate, and now you. Am I really that unwanted?”
Now he’s got Ralaks attention. 
Ralak gets a whiff of your sweet, sweet pheromones on him. As if he’s been around his tanhì. Scenting his tanhì. Touching his tanhì. His primal urges devour him once more, eating away at him until nothing but a possessive beast remains. One of pure territorial instinct. 
“What did you do?” Ralak growls through a clenched jaw as he jumps out the water and approaches Ka’ani. “Scenting my mate again?” His voice booms as it increases in volume, yet lowers in depth. “Answer me. Did you touch her?!” 
“No!” Ka’ani blurts out, now taking a few steps back with his hands splayed out in front of him. “Is that what you both really think of me? This is the last I ever do some—”
Ralak remains silent, taking quick, calculated strides directly towards Ka’ani, who is now backing up into a tree. Once his back hits the scaly bark, Ralaks' balled fist slams into the trunk, barely an inch away from Ka’ani’s skull. 
“Alright! Alright. I know what I did before. I-I’m sorry. I came looking for you to apologise for that but I found her in heat. Okay? I came here as soon as I realized.” 
Unsure of whether or not to believe a word coming from this skxawng’s mouth, Ralak steps away from his prey, bloody knuckled and full of uncertainty. But the one thing he is certain about is the fact that he wants no other na’vi to find you if you really are in heat. With a huff of defeat, he pushes past Ka’ani and bolts for the shore. 
——
The trek back to the marui is twice as quick. Your pheromones are thick and potent, affecting him even a few feet away from the marui door. And when he steps through the marui door, he’s completely inundated with the thick fog of your pheromones. He feels lost in himself, struggling not to succumb to his instincts. Struggling to regain control.
“Ma’ L-Lak?” You mewl shakily.
You can smell him, just like he can smell you. It only drives you further into your heat, your trembling body now shaking a little more. Sensing that your mate is in close proximity, your scent glands release more of your aphrodisiac to lure him in. In turn, this has its effects on your body — sending you into a submissive state where you feel too heavy to even lift a finger. You lay there, legs splayed out and glossy fingered. 
You watch through blurred vision as the tall and thick silhouette quickly makes its way towards you. Ralak grabs and firmly holds your legs back as he leans in close, making the confirmation that his mate is indeed in heat. He lingers a little longer than he can control, taking everything in him to pull away and calm down — panting and out of breath. 
“It is true.” He huffs, towering over your tiny, shivering frame. “In heat.” The two words drip off his tongue, much like the thick nectar dripping from your slit.
“Lak. Oh — lak. ’ts you.” You cry out in relief, clawing at his thigh to bring him back to you, “‘m so happy it’s you ‘nd not someone else.” His teeth grit as your hand grazes his thigh, but he remains fixed in place, unsure of his ability to keep his composure if he allows himself to give in to your touches. 
What is he supposed to do now? 
He didn’t think this far into his plan… for once in his life. Typically he’s quite calculated and certain of his next move but now — now he’s not sure how he’s going to deal with this. He just knew that he couldn’t leave you alone. Not for another man to find and claim you in the way that only he should. But he has to remain himself. For you. He swallows down his uncertainty before speaking. 
“I should have stayed.” He looks down at the flushed, puffy flesh between your legs with a rapacious glint in his eye. “I am sorry.” 
“Don’t be. Just p-please. It’s to-o much. T-Too hot. It aches, karyu.” Ralak winces when you groan the last few words, it’s almost painful to resist you at this point. You go to claw at this thigh once more, only for him to shift away. “No, don’t do that. Not right now. N-Need you so ba—”
“My rut came. This morning.” He’s quick to cut you off with a strained, yet monotonous voice, unable to peel his eyes away from your swollen cunt. 
“I-I know.” You pant, earning a twitch of Ralaks brows. “‘nd t-that’s good. Ngh—that’s really good,  I-I can help you too.” You mumble, sticking your hand between your legs to fondle with yourself. With the way he grimaces one side of his face, it seems as if he wants to look away, but can’t. 
“No, tanhì. We spoke of this.” His accent is thick as he struggles to string the words together, “No control. Trying hard…” he inhales quickly, eyes plastered to the sight in front of him, “…not to lose it.”
At this point the haze of your heat has you lethargically shaking your head from side to side, mumbling whatever frustrated-fueled words that first come to you “…haven’t cum yet…”, you squirm around to find a position that allows your wandering fingers better access to your hole, “…need to cum.” You slur the words as you barely slip two fingers inside you and you quietly sob when they provide very little release. 
“Ralak!” You cry loudly enough to at last lure his gaze up to yours, the night sea finally meeting the roaring flame. Your voice quiets down into a soft whimper, “Please. Just t-try. Please.” 
A moment of silence passes where you and Ralak stare at one another, hearts pounding and chests heaving, understanding exactly how the other feels. The burning desire to come together. The resistance, yet the lack of control. The eternal flame within. The heat. 
Ralak breaks eye contact to glance at your slender fingers working as hard as they can. He breathes a heavy sigh, feeling a pang of guilt for leaving you when he sees just how raw you are from being in heat all alone. He’s responsible for you even being in this bad of a state, isn’t he? Leaving you before sunrise with nothing but a kiss on the head. If anything that only made it more intense for you. He wants to — no, needs to care for you. It’s what every part of himself is urging him to do. 
“The thought of another finding you… like this.” Ralak rasps as he closes in on you, “so vulnerable… it makes me — haah.” He cuts himself off with a shaky sigh and a clench to his jaw. Beads of sweat ball on his temples, slowly rolling down his angular jaw to eventually meet and drip from his chin onto your stomach. He looms over you, his hair flowing forward when he suddenly grabs and tugs at your wrist in one swift move, yanking your fingers out of you. 
“Ss-ah!” You hiss with a wince, heart skipping a beat when you realise that he’s barely there anymore. “I-It makes you, what?” You ask quietly — nervously, even. 
A bestial growl begins to rumble in his chest, causing a shiver to ripple through you—hardening your nipples into peaks within seconds. Jawbone fluttering from his reluctance to answer, he harshly cups your pussy with his hand, causing you to gasp. His sharp, intimidating stare locks with yours, brows tensing as he allows two, thickset fingers to slip down to your slickened opening. His growl fades into a single, drawn out word. 
“Nìfmokx. [jealous]” 
His admission slips past his lips just as his fingers sink into your aching core, leaving your mouth agape and hot tears spilling over your cheeks. Jealousy isn’t an emotion Ralak is used to feeling. Much less something he would subject you to experience with him. But you could see the raw emotion in his eyes, as they flicker from a dark blue to something even deeper. It’s the way his stare bores into your innermost being as he fills you up with his digits alone, telling you that you were his, and his only. 
He hooks his fingers right into your gummy walls, holding his position as he moves his hand in an up and down motion at full tilt. The tips of his fingers repeatedly slam into your swelling sweet spot, coaxing out broken, filthy noises from your throat. He hums with pride, yet his face remains stone cold, minus the occasional twitch of his jawbone. He’s trying so hard to keep at a steady pace, and not to be too rough with your fragility. 
“Oh f-fuck.” You curse under your breath, both hands grabbing a firm hold of his forearm. You’ve been unintentionally edging yourself all day that you’re already almost there. And no matter how hard you squeeze and claw at his now-veiny arm, he remains unmoving. 
“Go on, then.” He huffs impatiently as he looks down at you, feeling your walls clamp down on his fingers. Your heels sink into the bed when you push your hips into the air, fingernails digging into his skin as you near your first release. You begin to whimper, bucking your hips to chase the feeling of relief. It’s right there. It’s so close; and you just need to allow it to wash through you. You tense up so badly your whole body shakes, sending your teeth chattering and your bottom lip quivering. You swear you can see the stars from the night sky litter your vision and feel your heavy lids flutter shut.
“Look at me.” Ralak demands in a sharp, gruff tone. Your glossy eyes shoot back up to his, and you start to sputter out whatever gibberish comes from your mouth — a few curses mixed with his name and your fathers’ mother-tongue. He continues to glare down at you with a rigid face, tensing his jaw as he wills himself to be gentle and patient with you. “Good. Now cum, little one.” 
Your pathetic noises suddenly fade into a sweet, little cry. A cry of relief when your frustration washes away as you finally come undone on his fingers. The alleviation is so intense that it’s almost consuming; “T-Thank—” you collapse back down onto the bed, “—you. Thank you—haah, thank you karyu.” You pant repeatedly, his forearm ripping from your grip when he unexpectedly wrenches his fingers out of you. You squirm from the sudden emptiness, “Wait—” 
“Do not thank.” He spits the accented words as he stumbles back to create some distance between the two of you. He pants as he attempts to recollect himself, his face of stone finally screwing into something of a grimace. “So…if another na’vi found you, would you thank him too? Hm?”
“Lak. I… N-No.” You stutter, unsure of what to even say. 
“You are mine. My mate…” he growls through thinned lips, “My duty. Understand?” 
“Yes.” You nod quickly, feeling your cheeks heat up. It arouses you to see him so jealous. So possessive. So assertive. 
Ralak slams his eyes shut and gulps so hard it’s audible —visible even. You could see the bump in the column of his throat quickly undulate, his chest heaving harshly and his shoulders dramatically rising and falling with each breath he struggles to take. And for a while, there’s nothing but silence and his heavy breathing that you feel the overwhelming need to break it. 
“Ralak.” 
Your trembling, tiny voice snapping his head back up to you, once tightly closed eyes now flying open to reveal the most beautiful shade of mauve. They pierce into you like a spear through an unsuspecting prey, full of nothing but pure, unadulterated greed. 
You never thought you’d see them again except in that vision. You get lost in them for a little, studying how the gold ring around his blown pupils still remains even in a sea of indigo. 
You sense that he’s in the thick of his rut now and you need to relieve him soon, like he did for you. Or only Eywa knows what will happen. You allow yourself to finally take in the man before you in full, eyes trailing down his sweaty, muscular physique — perfectly carved v-lines and six fingered tattoo — until they land on his aching cock. 
Oh, fuck. Is he bigger? You think, admiring his mushroomy head and erect spikes. It’s oozing and dripping, unable to keep still from how hard it’s pulsing. It’s at least an inch bigger than usual. 
You look away to study his facial expression and by the way he’s looking at you, you can tell he’s waiting for your command, trying his hardest to prevent himself from pouncing on you and fucking you senseless right here and now. You’ve never seen him this way before. Straining so hard to keep himself in one position and struggling to keep his hands to himself. 
“Ralak… More.” You spread your legs as wide as they can go, holding them apart by the bend of your knees, exposing yourself completely. His heavy lidded eyes widen almost as much as your legs, pointed ears flicking upwards in excitement when he sees you assume such a vulnerable and submissive position. 
“Y/n.” He groans, voice thick with arousal and want and maybe a little desperation as he takes in the sweet sight of your still-pulsing and swollen clit poking out between your folds. “I am… losing control.”
Hearing your name fall from his lips in this way — this tone, instantaneously reignites the flame in your core. In seconds your slit is practically dripping, forming a pool of your slick underneath you. “Good.” You pant as you stare up into his slit-like pupils. You swallow quickly before mustering up the courage to invite the beast in. “Now…remind me who I belong to.”
How could he resist now? 
With the way you’re talking and your pheromones so pungent that they fill his lungs to the brim with no space for any other option but to fall into the thick of his rut. Before you can formulate another thought in your foggy state, Ralak has your legs pinned back and is diving nose first into your cunt. 
He wastes no time to have his fill of you, lapping up your juices so desperately your body moves from the force of his licks. He has been wanting to taste you ever since you made a mess on his fingers, fuck — ever since he got a whiff of your scent from outside his marui door, but denied himself the pleasure in the case he couldn’t stop himself from going any further. But now, all restraint and denial is now left out at that very door. 
The flat of his tongue trails up your inner thigh and then back to your folds, tasting a mixture of the sweetness of your slick and the saltiness of your sweat. He groans when his tongue finally grazes past your clit, feeling it throb against his taste buds. He lingers there for a while, swirling and sucking on you until he unlatches to come up for a quick breath of air. 
“Fucking ftxìlor [delicious].” He gasps out a curse, shoving your legs even further back to have seconds of his meal. 
It becomes evident that he’s doing this for himself. Because if he were doing this solely for you, he would have made you cum by now. He’s eating you out as if he’s been starved for weeks, sucking and popping off your clit just to lap up the sweet, sticky nectar seeping from your hole just to coat his tongue. 
He’s nowhere near as quiet as he usually is, grunting and groaning as he swallows your juices. His fingernails dig into your thighs as he tries to keep himself from being too rough with your tiny, dainty body. But, his attempts prove to be futile once you feel your hips lift off the ground from his grip tightening around your thighs. You stare at the sight of your mate between your legs, crinkling his forehead and squeezing his eyes shut as he can’t stop himself from indulging in his urges. 
“Fuck me!” You let out a frustrated moan, your heat having you so on edge you need to cum again. 
His eyes fly open, and within moments he’s tucked under your hips, pelvises flush together as he rests his throbbing, neglected cock between your folds. His tip touches your belly button with ease, beads of precum oozing out of his slit one after the next. 
“This is what you want, yes?” He bucks his hips into you, the tip of his cock smearing his slick all over your deep blue skin. 
“Fuck, yes.” You whisper shakily, chin meeting your chest to look at the masterpiece he’s painting on you. “I want my mates cock.”
He only responds with a rough growl, flipping you over and pushing you onto your stomach.
“Oh shit.” You mutter under your breath, a little afraid of what you’ve gotten yourself into. But you trust Ralak. 
You know that even in rut he would never hurt you. Not intentionally, at least. Of course this is not to say that he would be gentle —you expect that anything but.
With a firm hand to your upper back, his body is pressed against yours and his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck. He breathes in deeply through his nose, holding it in his lungs, and then letting out a hot, shaky breath against your skin, finally allowing himself to really take in your scent. 
He almost becomes drunk off it— at least it feels that way for him. Your scent has him feeling like he’s downed two full bottles of fermented fruit with no chasers in between and he simply can’t get enough of it. 
Hand moving swiftly from your back to your head, he pins your face to the bed as he trails his tongue along your jawbone to the nape of your neck. He lingers a little longer than he can help, suckling on and grazing his pointed canines against the skin. It sends shivers down your spine until your tail curls into the air and back arches in complete submission. You push back into him, feeling his hardened length pressed between the swell of your ass and base of your tail. 
Fuck, you just want it inside you already. 
“Lifting your tail for me, hm?” He huffs, puckering his lips against your skin and suckling tenderly. You can feel the emptiness creep back in, and that maddening itch deep in your womb. You moan softly, like a low hum under your breath, which only riles him up more. He feels like he wants to make you his all over again.
To mate with you. 
To mark you as his in every way so that no other man would even dare look your way. Without warning, Ralak pushes up off you, his sinewy arms caging you in with one hand binding your wrists and the other keeping your head pinned to the bed. His legs hold yours down, his knees locking your ankles in place. 
“You belong to me.” He growls next to your ear, his hand abruptly leaving your head to reach for the base of his skull for his kuru. With a quick tug, he brings it over his shoulder and pops it into his mouth to hold with his teeth. He reaches for your kuru that lies innocently in the dip of your back, and brings it towards his mouth.  
A wave of anxiety washes over you when the image of Ka’ani finding you earlier in your own mess flashes before you. You can’t help but wonder if he would see that if he made tsaheylu right now. Imagine how he’d react when he realizes Ka’ani saw you naked and covered in slick? Your body squirmed at the mere thought, only making Ralak tighten his grip on you. 
“Wait!” Is all you could blubber out before you feel the connection —the bond. Your eyes bulge when you feel him surge through you, two minds becoming one. It takes you by surprise, he’s never one to hastily or unexpectedly make tsaheylu with you. But tonight he makes the bond as if you were a tsurak to be tamed. 
What he sees next drives him further into his territorial urges — your interaction with Ka’ani. The way Ka’ani barged into his home. How he saw your naked, vulnerable body. The fear that you felt when another man invaded your space. When he helped you. Innocently touched you. 
“He touched you.” He says between pants, a mixture of emotions washing over him all at once. But the sharp pang of your heat transferring through tsaheylu has him entirely succumbing to his own urges and carnal instincts. 
He’s simply not there. 
His hips start bucking uncontrollably and his cock is poking and prodding at your puffy folds. The crown of his cock jabs at your clit a few times before finally parting your folds and with a quick snap of his hips he’s probing your entrance. 
It stings when his swollen cockhead breaks past the resistance of your tightness, and he can’t help but lay hold of your hip and hiss from how tiny you feel. This is the first he’s ever had his cock stuffed inside a pussy during his rut. The feeling is all-consuming and he unapologetically yearns for more.  
Hips snapping back, he pops his cockhead out of you only to shove it back in again. And again. And again until he’s repeatedly using your tight, little hole as nothing more than a fucktoy for his own self pleasure. 
He leans back to take in the hazy sight, admiring the way your hole stretches perfectly to accommodate the sheer thickness of his cock. And when he sees the mushroomy part of his head slowly emerge he can’t help the way his hips stutter just to sink it back inside you. 
It’s torturous, not having all of him inside you when that’s what your body is pining for most. He’s so much bigger than normal and you know that this is an itch that only he can scratch. “God—” You whine the foreign word, “—just fuck me already!” 
“Agh. Quiet.” He lets out an irritated grunt, both hands flying to your hips to shove you down onto his cock — a loud, audible smack permeating the air when your sticky pelvises collide. 
It almost overpowers the hoarse yet piercing cry that escapes your quivering lips. You’re so tender that the sudden stretch is too intense and with no time to adjust to his size you find yourself shuddering like you did after he took your innocence —your virginity. 
His head dips back in ecstasy just when his tip kisses your cervix, his eyes screwed shut as he tries not to spray his seed inside your womb right now. His fingers sink into your skin, surely leaving bruises behind that will last for weeks. 
“Hngh — woman.” He groans longingly, dropping his head forward and opening his ineberated eyes to witness how your cunt is sucking in every single inch of his cock with glee. 
He grinds himself inside you, tugging at your hips and pushing against the resistance as if he were trying to stuff more of his cock inside you. Your high-pitched shrill fades out into a pathetic little whimper, your wobbly elbows and knees struggling to keep you up.
It’s all too much and your fucked out mind goes blank. You can’t even process how your body is submitting to its owner and his rough touches, opening itself up to be bred already. You sense what’s coming next. Your back bows, elbows and knees burying into the softness of the bed as you try to ground yourself for Ralak to use you for his own relief. 
He does exactly that— hunching over you and shuffling his knees closer so he can gain more leverage to fuck into your slippery cunt. He puts all his weight on you, his fingernails almost piercing your skin when he begins rutting into you like his life depends on it. 
He sets a merciless pace right off the bat, pounding into you as if he were angry with you. He huffs and puffs from trying to catch his breath but fails because he can’t stop himself from humping at you. His body won’t let him, not until he’s ensured you're full with his seed and will bear his child. 
Hands quickly leaving your hips, he grabs your wrists, binding them together once more and the other grips your kuru and yanks it back. Your neck is exposed and your mouth hangs agape as you’re given no other choice but to take the jackhammering of your life. He’s never fucked you so hard or fast and perhaps it’s the haze of your heat but you just want more of him. 
“F-Fuck. FuckFuckFuckmeFuckme— yes!” You beg deliriously, pushing yourself back onto him. You can feel the way his cock is bulging from your lower stomach, but you couldn’t care less because you just want it even deeper inside you. Fuck, it hurts even but it feels so good that you can’t stop begging for more. “Deeper — oh, yesyesyes!” 
Ralaks groans become drawn out and he’s burying his hot face into the crook of your neck as his pulsing tip bullies its way past your cervix. It’s like white hot pleasure surging through your entire being and it has you so lightheaded you may actually pass out before he’s finished with you. 
His cock heats up inside your cunt, becoming so veiny you could practically feel each vein press against your gummy, slimy walls. He’s now panting open mouthed against your throat, his tongue darting out to lick your skin. He shoves your head down so he can access the back of your neck—a hot spot for your pheromones— and grazes his canines against you. Every fiber of his being is urging him to sink them into your skin and see if you taste as good as you smell. His fangs throb in his mouth at the mere thought, his hot saliva dripping off their length and down your neck. 
You’re so overwhelmed and overstimulated that you can’t form a coherent thought much less process the fact that you’re quickly nearing your climax. It’s as if you’ve surrendered all control over your body to him and he’s dictating what happens next. Your pussy walls tighten around him so much it aches and he outright whimpers. 
“Sst-ah.” He pulls away from your neck and slams his eyes shut, grimacing from the way your cunt is gripping his cock. At this point you’re so on edge that you’re just pinching him, locking him inside you and almost cutting off his blood supply. It’s more than painful for him, and he becomes peeved that you won’t ease up. 
Irritated, he aggressively slams himself into you so that you stop with your pathetic little pinching, but all that does is tip you over the edge. Next thing you know your cunt is helplessly fluttering around his cock and your pussy juices are trickling down your thighs.
“Mmm-fuck I’m cumming!” You moan the words so quickly they jumble together, “Cu-cumming! Cumming!”  
You throbbing around him has his eyes rolling into the back of his head but the more your body convulses underneath him the more he grows frustrated with you. How could such a little thing put on such a big performance? Why won’t you just stay still?
So he thrusts. And thrusts. And thrusts. 
Taming you in the only way his body knows how. Fucking into you without mercy or sympathy. He lets out a hiss, the first he’s ever directed your way, and tightens his grip. “Keep…” He pulls out of you until only the tip is left inside, “...still.” Ralak’s deep voice rumbles next to your ear as he slams every inch cock into your cunt, the mere force of his thrust almost knocking you onto your stomach. You let out a broken whimper, coming down from your high and already feeling the coil in your stomach wind and heat up again. 
“Haa—‘nna…make you swell.” He groans the fragmented sentence like a dying man, grinding so deeply inside you that his swollen balls rub against your puffed up clit. Your bruised cervix feels so good against his cock as he uses it to massage the most sensitive part of his tip. 
Experiencing nothing but absolute rapture, Ralaks head slumps into the crook of your neck, where he’s flooded by your scent. He only grinds harder. And harder, until he’s panting like a viperwolf against your skin.
“Fuck — please…” You beg through a shaky whisper, trying to free your hands from his undying grip, “I j-ust c-came.” 
He’s just so fucking big and deep that he’s touching parts of you that have never touched before, and he’s only getting more aggressive the more you push away his advances. Right now, you’re just a squirming, noisy bitch in heat that needs to be put in her place. To surrender and submit. And the pheromones wafting up his nostrils only drive him further into his bestial urges to claim you as his.
His teeth and gums throb in his mouth once more when the urge to mark you as his becomes indubitable. Much like the urge to keep you still enough to make you into a vessel for his seed. He indulges himself, yanking your head back to expose the bend of your shoulder. He hovers open mouthed over your flawless skin and gives you a kitten lick before ruthlessly marking you. 
Your eyes bulge and pupils constrict into nothing but dots when you feel his lengthy fangs plunge into your flesh. The wail evading your throat is deafening and only gets higher when you feel your shoulder set ablaze. His jaw locks into place and he holds you still as he incessantly claims you as his in more ways than just marking. Your eyes start to water and your body stiffens when you feel it. 
He’s bulging inside you. 
Stretching you out until your shoulder isn’t the only part of you on fire. You lash around, clawing at whatever’s in your way until your nails are dull but the more you move the more it burns. “Y-You’re getting bigger inside me!” You release a high pitched squeal, your elbows and knees finally collapsing under you. Now all his weight is on top of you, pinning you flat to the bed with nowhere for you to go. He begins groaning low and deep, drawing it out until it turns into a depraved growl. It feels as if he’s swelling inside you, as if he were doubling in size. As if he were — oh fuck. 
“You’re — you’re knotting me, lak!” You yell when you come to the realisation. It feels like there’s two of him inside you, stretching you to unfathomable lengths. Despite your continuous attempts to get him to let up, he continues to bulge inside you. “You’re knotting me.” You repeat the words in a weakened, croaky voice of defeat, finally giving in and accepting your fate. 
Riding out his high, his hips stutter out of his control — a familiar sensation now flooding your core. A rush of warmth inside you. It’s his hot seed pumping inside you, his cock thumping with each spurt. He groans and moans until you’re so overloaded with his cum it begins to drip down your thighs and mix with yours. 
He unlatches from your shoulder, lapping at the wound to prevent it from bleeding too badly. He plants a few rough kisses on the double crescent shaped mark and works them up to the lobe of your ear. He’s panting and sweating and he can feel the fog lifting now that he’s had his release. “‘m sorry.” He mumbles between wet kisses, now trailing them back down to the fresh wound to lap at it some more. “‘m sorry.”
“Ralak, I-I” You stutter, overloaded with all these new sensations. It’s burning worse than a hellfire wasp sting but at the same time it’s everything your body hungers for. “Haah.. it-it hurts” You whimper quietly, looking behind you to see the most inebriated eyes you’ve ever seen on this man’s face stare back at you. He releases his pheromones to help your body calm down and feel less pain, ultimately scenting you all together.  
“Mawey.” Ralak huffs, trying his hardest to stay still now that he’s quickly coming to the realisation that he’s knotted and marked you in one go. “Doing… so well, tahnì.” He tries to praise you but truthfully he’s still in and out of it, dazing off when he feels the occasional throb of your walls. 
“Am I? Am I helping you too, lak?” You ask in a surprisingly optimistic tone, proud that you were able to do what you were told was unmanageable. He musters out a nod, grunting as he finishes emptying himself in your womb. 
Feeling some level of sense and rationality, you ask him a question that’s been on your mind. “I’m going to get pregnant, aren’t I?”
“Mm.” He hums, nodding his head as he nuzzles himself into the dip of your shoulder, inhaling your seeping scent. 
“Is that what you w-want?” Your breath hitches as you flinch from his cheek resting on your shoulder.
“Mm.” Another grunt, followed by an unexpected, fervid thrust — his body answering your question on his behalf by ensuring every last drop of his essence is inside your fertile womb. 
You focus on steadying your breathing now that you’ve gotten your answer. 
“Irayo, muntxate [thank you, wife].” He says weakly, finally rolling you both onto your sides for some much needed rest. You chuckle. A weak one, but a chuckle nonetheless, and repeat his own words back to him.
“Do not thank.” You say with a smile, getting yourself as comfortable as you can for the long night ahead. 
—— 
2K notes · View notes
thyras · 1 month ago
Note
I saw that you were accepting requests and I couldn't miss this opportunity. I follow your account and I really like your writing! I thought of something like Sauron and the reader have been together since Morgoth, but with Sauron's return and his contact with Galadriel, the reader begins to be uncertain about his feelings. So when she leaves Eregion late at night, Adar finds her and takes her to his camp days before Halbrand arrives. Adar could suspect that Sauron is Halbrand and tries to use his wife as bait. But you can obviously write however you like. English is not my language, so I apologize for any mistakes! :)
It is perfectly okay!
I had a hard time thinking where I wanted to go with this, but it came to me in a dream (hehe, divine intervention), and I really went from there, honestly. I took some parts of your request and kind of morphed them a little. I hope that is okay, but the bones are still there. So sorry this took so long, though. final exams and papers are in full swing and it's taking everything out of me.
→ luminary
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PAIRING → sauron | mairon | halbrand x f!Maia!reader
WORD COUNT → 4.9k words
WARNINGS → soft!sauron, lies, obsessions, manipulation, etc.
SUMMARY → you have been with sauron since he was a servant of aulë, though now centuries later you have doubts. but with doubts come dangers not even a maia can be saved from.
AUTHORS NOTE → i tried a different style of writing this as I usually write in past tense so it's probably utter garbage and does not flow properly but hey i tried. reader does have a name that yavanna gave her when she was in her service, and is referred to a few times. but I do not reference anything that would take away from the reader's perspective.
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In the days before the shadow fell over the world, before the Valar waged their war on the darkness and the light of the Two Trees was lost, you walked among the Maiar as one of Yavanna's most cherished. She called you Nelyanna, for your voice carried the essence of the Music of the Ainur, coaxing flowers from the earth and bidding forests to rise in splendor. Your song was the song of growing things, of roots and leaves that drank deeply of the light, and your heart burned fiercely for the beauty of Arda.
As a servant of Yavanna, you often found yourself in the halls of Aulë, her husband. Among the clamor of hammers and the blaze of forges, you first saw him: Mairon, golden and shining, whose mastery of craft and subtlety of thought stood unmatched. He was unlike any you had ever known. Where others toiled contentedly, he sought perfection, driven by a restless ambition that burned brighter than the forge-fire.
At first, you admired him from a distance, enchanted by the elegance of his work, the way his hands shaped metal into wonders. His voice, when he spoke, was a low and captivating murmur, like a storm on the horizon. But his mind held you, sharp and vivid, full of visions that reached far beyond the present. He spoke of perfecting the world's flaws, of reshaping Arda into something eternal.
You did not see the danger in his words nor the shadow that began to coil around him. How could you? Your heart was so full of faith in the light of creation that you believed in the goodness of all things. Slowly, you came to know him, and your presence seemed to soothe the storm within him. Together, you spoke of creation, life's wild and untamed beauty, and how it might be ordered into something more significant.
What began as fascination became something deeper. You felt it in every note of your song, a pull stronger than you could name. When he spoke, his gaze pierced through you like sunlight breaking through a forest canopy, warm and unwavering. In him, you saw not only his brilliance but a yearning that mirrored your own: a longing to create, understand, and belong.
But whispers of discontent began to ripple through the halls of the Valar. You noticed the change in him, how his light grew darker, his ambition sharper. He spoke of Morgoth, the fallen Vala who sought dominion over Arda, and his words carried a dangerous allure. Mairon did not see Morgoth as a tyrant but as a visionary, someone bold enough to challenge the flaws of Eru's design.
Others turned from him, their hearts heavy with fear and mistrust. Yet you could not. You had seen the light in him, the brilliance beneath the shadow, and you clung to the hope that it might prevail. He was your sun, and you, a flower bending toward his radiance.
When he made his choice—when Mairon turned to Morgoth and the dark halls of Angband—he came to you. His voice was soft, his words entreating, as he spoke of a new order, a world remade.
A power over the flesh.
He asked you to choose: to remain untouched and safe among the green fields of Yavanna or to follow him into the unknown.
Your heart wavered. Could you leave the forests, the meadows, the songs of life you had nurtured? But then you looked at him, at the fire in his eyes, and you could not turn away. You told yourself you might save him, that your light might temper his growing darkness.
And so you left. You turned from the green fields and walked into the shadow, following him. The air grew colder with every step, and the light dimmer. Yet you hoped, still you sang, and you believed, even as the weight of the dark pressed on your spirit.
In time, the world would remember Mairon by a name spoken in fear and hatred, but your story would fade like a forgotten note, lost to history. Still, somewhere deep inside you, even as the dark wrapped tighter around you, you would remember the sun and the green fields of your beginnings.
And you would wonder if the flower you had once been might ever bloom again.
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The golden afternoon light bathed Eregion in a warm glow, and its white towers rose proudly against the mountains. The city thrummed with life, its forges alive with the fires of creation and the voices of Elves. You lingered at the city's edge, your gaze drifting to the distant horizon, where the mountains seemed to touch the sky. There, your thoughts often wandered, searching for answers to a question you dared not voice aloud.
You felt an unease deep within you, a faint pull like a thread tugging at your spirit. For weeks, you had sensed something shifting, something drawing nearer. It was not fear but anticipation, a quiet certainty that he was coming. You could not say how you knew, only that you did. Mairon. Sauron. Whatever guise he had taken, the thread that connected you had begun to hum once more.
The sound of horns at the gates startled you from your thoughts. You turned toward the commotion, your heart quickening. A flurry of hooves approached the gatehouse, the figures indistinct against the shimmering heat of the sun. As they approached, you saw an Elf clad in battle-worn armor leading the way, her golden hair catching the sunlight. She supported a figure as she helped them off the horse, his weight leaning heavily against her before guards moved to assist her. You felt the air shift even at a distance, and your breath caught.
It was him.
Your feet moved before your mind could catch up, carrying you toward the gates. Elves gathered, curious but cautious, as the group passed through the threshold. Galadriel—the Lady of Light herself, though you had never seen her before—moved to speak with Lord Celebrimbor and Elrond, though you could not hear what the three were saying. The coppery-haired man stumbled, barely able to stand, his tunic torn and stained with blood. You hesitated in the shadow of the crowd, your heart pounding.
Celebrimbor said something to the guards that was inaudible to you, but the guards moved to follow his orders, though you remained frozen. His face was obscured, turned away from you as they carried him into the forge, but you knew. You would always know. The air around him was heavy, resonating with the faintest trace of power—perhaps diminished but unmistakable. You stepped forward, your hands trembling as they disappeared behind the doors.
Galadriel turned her gaze to you briefly, her eyes sharp but puzzled. "Do you know him?" she asked, her voice curious but wary as you walked over to the group.
You hesitated, the words caught in your throat. Finally, you shook your head. "No," you lied softly. "But I… I can help. If you'll allow it."
She studied you for a moment longer, then nodded. "Come, then."
You followed them into the chamber, your thoughts spinning. The room was quiet, the golden light of a single lantern casting long shadows on the walls. They laid him on a low bed, his breathing shallow but steady. Galadriel spoke briefly with the healers, her voice low and firm, before she turned back to you.
"Stay with him," she said, her tone gentler now. "He may wake disoriented. It is better if there is someone here."
You nodded, unable to meet her eyes. She lingered a moment longer, then left, her presence fading like a beam of light withdrawing from the room as she spoke with Elrond quietly outside the door's threshold. When they finally departed, you exhaled, the tension in your chest easing slightly.
You moved to his side, kneeling by the bed. His face was pale beneath the grime and blood, his features softer than you remembered. His manly face almost resembled the one you had met him with. Though with this face, stubble traveled across his chin and cheeks, and he held less of that glow he had. But it was still there, deep inside, and only for you to see.
The years—or perhaps the ages—had worn on him, stripping away the veneer of power he had once carried so effortlessly. And yet, even now, he was unmistakable. Your fingers hovered above his face, trembling as you brushed the damp coppery strand from his brow.
"You found your way back," you whispered, barely audible. "I always knew you would."
He stirred faintly, his head turning slightly toward you. His eyelids fluttered but did not open, his breathing hitching before settling again. You stayed where you were, your heart aching with the weight of centuries. The bond between you hummed faintly, a reminder of what had been, of the light you had seen in him even when all others saw only shadow.
The door creaked open behind you, and you turned to see one of the healers entering with fresh linens and salves. She looked at you briefly but said nothing, her gaze curious but kind. You rose and stepped back, allowing her to tend to him, though your eyes never left his face.
"Will he recover?" you asked quietly.
The healer nodded. "His injuries are severe, but he is strong. He will heal with time."
You nodded, relief and trepidation warring within you. As the healer worked, you moved to the corner of the room, where you could watch without drawing attention. When she left, promising to return later, you stepped forward again, your hand brushing against his. His skin was warm, his pulse steady beneath your fingertips.
For hours, you stayed by his side, unwilling to leave. The city beyond carried on as it always did, but for you, the world had narrowed to this room, to the fragile rise and fall of his chest. You did not know what he would say when he woke or if he would even remember you. But you had waited for this moment for centuries and would not falter now.
When his eyes finally opened, softly green like the pastures you used to tend in Aman and piercing even in their weakness, you felt your breath catch. His gaze found yours, and for a fleeting moment, recognition flickered there; even in the deepest of guises, he could tell it was you: his heart, his light in the darkness.
"Nelyanna," he rasped, his voice rough but unmistakable.
You smiled faintly, your hand tightening around his. "Yes," you said softly. "Nelyanna."
And though the shadow of his past loomed over you both, the thread that bound you felt whole again for the first time in ages.
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The days after his arrival were a haze of whispered tension and unanswered questions. Mairon—no, Halbrand, as he called himself now—recovered swiftly under the care of the Elves, his wounds healing faster than they had any right to. He was different now, quieter, his once-burning ambition masked behind a veneer of humility. But you saw the familiar glint in his eyes when he spoke to Celebrimbor, the calculated precision in his words. He was a master of deception, as he had always been.
What unnerved you most, however, was the way his gaze lingered on Galadriel in those days that followed.
You told yourself it was nothing. After all, she had brought him to Eregion. It was only natural that he would be drawn to her—a powerful Elf whose light radiated an intensity few could match. But you knew him too well to ignore the subtle signs: the way his eyes followed her in the forge or courtyard and how his tone shifted when he spoke of her, tinged with something you could not name.
At first, you tried to dismiss your fears. You reminded yourself of the bond between you, the centuries you had waited for, the sacrifices you had made to follow him into shadow. But as the days passed, the unease in your heart grew. You began to see the pattern: how he subtly positioned himself to be near her and encouraged her trust. His words were carefully chosen, always flattering but never overt, weaving himself into her thoughts like a strand of her light.
One evening, as the city settled into twilight, you found him alone in the courtyard underneath one of the lone trees in the city. He was seated on a low stone bench, his face tilted toward the sky as though lost in thought. The sight of him, so seemingly serene, only deepened your resolve.
"You’re spending a great deal of time with her," you said, your voice soft but firm.
He turned at the sound of your voice, his expression unreadable. For a moment, he said nothing, then gestured for you to sit beside him. You hesitated before complying, the tension between you as palpable as the golden light fading from the horizon.
"She interests me," he said finally, his tone even. "Her strength, clarity—It is rare to see such light untainted."
Your chest tightened. "And what do you intend to do with it?" you asked, trying to keep the tremor from your voice. "You and I both know you do not fixate on things without a reason."
He studied you, his green eyes sharp and piercing. "You think I have ill intent," he said, almost accusing.
"I think you have a purpose," you replied. "You always do."
He smiled faintly, a flicker of the charm that had once captivated you. "Perhaps I do," he admitted. "Galadriel’s light is—unique. It is a beacon, a force capable of uniting even the most divided hearts. It is a light this world sorely needs."
"And you think to wield it," you said, your voice laced with disbelief. "You would use her for our plans."
"I would heal Middle-earth," he said, his voice low but fervent. "Look around you, Nelyanna. This world is broken and fractured by conflict and mistrust. Galadriel has the power to inspire and lead. With her, we could bring order to the chaos."
His conviction sent a shiver down your spine. "She’s not a tool, Mairon," you said, using his true name deliberately and sharply. "She is not something for you to mold into our vision."
He flinched at the name but recovered quickly, his expression hardening. "And what would you have me do?" he asked, his tone bitter. "Stand idle while this world crumbles? I see a chance to make things right, to shape Arda into what it was always meant to be. Would you deny me that?"
"That’s not what this is about," you said, your voice rising. "This is about you. You can tell yourself it’s for Middle-earth, but I know you. This is your ambition, your obsession. And now you’ve turned it on her, seeking power when you already have such power by your side."
For a moment, heavy and unyielding silence hung between you. He looked at you, his eyes filled with anger and something deeper—raw, almost pleading.
"You think I don’t care for you," he said quietly. "That you’ve waited all this time for nothing."
Your throat tightened. "What I think is that you’ve forgotten what truly matters," you said. "You are so consumed by your need to control and shape that you cannot see the cost." Tears threatened to fall now. "My love, Mairon, it is the cost."
He reached for your hand, his grip firm but not unkind. "You matter to me," he said, his voice softer now. "You always have. But this—this is something greater. Something I cannot ignore."
You pulled your hand away, the distance between you feeling like an unbridgeable chasm. "If you go down this path, there may be no coming back," you said, your voice trembling. "You think you can use Galadriel’s light without corrupting it, but you’ve forgotten the shadow you carry. It will twist everything it touches, including her." You pause. “Look what it did to me.”
His expression darkened, and for a moment, you saw the flicker of the Sauron you had once known, the master of ambition and cunning. "You underestimate me," he said, his tone cold. "And her."
You rose to your feet, your heart heavy. "Perhaps I do," you said. "But I will not stand by and watch you lose yourself again. Not this time."
As you turned to leave, his voice stopped you. "You won’t leave me," he said, a note of desperation beneath his words. "You never have."
You paused your back to him, tears threatening to spill again. "Perhaps I should have," you whispered before walking into the growing shadows.
Behind you, the garden fell silent except for the faint rustle of leaves in the evening breeze. And as you left him there, you wondered if, this time, the thread that bound you might finally snap.
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Eregion was quieter now, but it felt like a shadow had passed over the city, dimming its light. You walked through the streets, the familiar paths that had once comforted you, now stirring only heartache. His presence lingered here, like the echo of a melody you couldn’t forget, no matter how desperately you wanted to.
He had left. After revealing himself to Galadriel, after his ambitions had been laid bare, he had vanished as suddenly as he had come. His departure had been like a blade to your heart, not because you hadn’t expected it, but because it solidified what you had long feared: Mairon, the husband you had loved, was gone, replaced by Sauron’s consuming obsession with power and control.
You had stayed for a time, hoping he might return and seek you out, not as Sauron but as the man you once knew. But he hadn’t. And now you could no longer bear to remain. His shadow hung too heavy here, his presence a ghost you could not escape.
It was time to leave.
You stood on the outskirts of the city, where the wildflowers grew untamed. The soft hum of your song rose on the breeze, a farewell melody. You had sung this tune countless times over the ages, but now it carried a new weight, a finality you had never felt before. You knelt among the flowers, your fingers brushing their delicate petals as if saying goodbye to the life you had built here.
"I thought you might come to your senses," you whispered into the stillness, your voice breaking. "I thought you might remember who you were. Who we once were."
The breeze carried no reply, only the faint rustle of leaves. You closed your eyes, swallowing the lump in your throat. He wouldn’t come. He had made his choice, and you had made yours.
As the sun descended below the horizon, you rose to your feet and turned toward the road away from Eregion. You didn't have a clear destination in mind, only the need to leave. You couldn’t follow him anymore—not down his chosen path. His quest to dominate, to twist Middle-earth to his will, was one you could no longer justify, no matter how deeply you had once believed in that path.
But leaving wasn’t easy. Eregion had been a sanctuary where you had tried to find solace and clung to the last threads of hope for your husband’s redemption. Walking away felt like tearing a piece of your dark soul from your body, but you knew it was the only way forward. If you stayed, his shadow would consume you as it had consumed him, and you would fall into the same madness.
As you began to walk, the soft crunch of your footsteps on the dirt road filled the silence. Each step felt heavier than the last, but you pressed on. The road stretched before you, winding into the distance, and you didn’t look back.
You had just passed the last of Eregion’s outlying homes when a voice stopped you. It was warm and even. There was no hint of malicious intent, only the warmth you craved from him.
"You’re leaving."
You froze, your breath catching. Slowly, you turned, and there he was. He stood a short distance away, his shadowy figure watching you, the evening light casting his face in sharp relief. His eyes burned with the same fire you had always known, but now there was something else there—something raw, almost desperate.
"I am," you said, your voice steady despite the storm raging in your chest. "There’s nothing left for me here."
He took a step closer, his movements slow, measured. "You can’t mean that," he said, his tone quiet but firm. "We’ve been through too much—"
"You left," you interrupted, your voice rising. "You left, Mairon. You revealed yourself to Galadriel, exposed your plans, and vanished without a word. What did you expect me to do? Stay here, waiting for you to return so you can pull me into whatever scheme you’ve concocted next?"
He flinched at the sharpness of your words, but he didn’t look away. "You don’t understand," he said, his voice softening. "Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve worked for—it’s for us. For our redemption. I need power to achieve it. Galadriel—her light—she could have been—"
"Don’t," you said, cutting him off. "Don’t try to justify it to me. Not anymore."
You stepped closer to him, your hands trembling at your sides. "I loved you, Mairon," you said, your voice breaking. "I loved you so much that I followed you into shadow, believing in your vision, believing in you. But I can’t do it anymore. Not when your vision means a web of schemes that involve taking something you already have by your side. I was your light for ages, Mairon, but I guess your darkness dimmed me out too much."
His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might argue, might try to pull you back into his web of ambition. But then his shoulders sagged, and the fire in his eyes dimmed. "I never wanted to lose you," he said quietly.
"Then you shouldn’t have lost our vision," you replied, the words heavy with sorrow.
For a long moment, the two of you stood in silence, the space between you filled with all the things left unsaid. Finally, you turned away, the ache in your chest nearly unbearable.
"Goodbye, Mairon," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I hope one day you find what you’re looking for."
You didn’t wait for a response. You walked away, your steps resolute, even as tears blurred your vision. The road ahead was uncertain, but it was yours, unshadowed by his ambitions.
And though your heart ached with every step, you knew you had made the right choice. No matter how deeply intertwined, some paths were never meant to be walked together.
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The woods outside Eregion were dense and quiet; the only sounds were the rustle of leaves in the evening breeze and the crunch of your boots on the dirt path. The road was lonely, stretching far into the wilderness, but the solitude was a balm to your frayed spirit. Every step away from Eregion, away from him, felt like tearing yourself apart, but it was a pain you had chosen. It was better this way.
Or so you told yourself.
The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the forest floor, when the attack came. It was silent at first—too silent. The birds stopped singing, the wind stilled, and an oppressive weight settled in the air. Your instincts screamed, and you reached for the dagger at your belt, but it was too late. The first blow came from behind, knocking you to the ground. Hands grabbed at you, rough and clawed, dragging you to your knees.
Orcs. At least a dozen of them, their blackened armor blending with the shadows of the trees. Their eyes glinted with cruel delight as they bound your hands and stripped you of your weapon. You struggled, but their strength was overwhelming, their snarling laughter mocking your defiance.
"Leave me," you hissed, your voice sharp despite the fear rising in your chest. "You’ve got no quarrel with me."
One of the orcs leaned close, its breath hot and foul. "It's not us you should be worried about," it sneered. "He’s waiting for you."
Before you could ask who, a burlap sack was pulled over your head, plunging you into darkness.
When the sack was removed, you found yourself in a clearing lit by the orange glow of a fire. Orcs milled about, their guttural voices and harsh laughter filling the air. The largest of them loomed nearby, sharpening crude blades, while others eyed you with suspicion or amusement. But it was the figure seated by the fire that drew your attention.
Adar.
He sat calmly, his face illuminated by the flickering flames. His features were sharp, almost elven, but twisted with a darkness that seemed to radiate from him. His eyes, cold and calculating, locked onto yours as the orcs shoved you forward, forcing you to kneel before him.
"So," he said, his voice smooth and low, "I see our paths have crossed again, my lady."
You glared at him, refusing to show fear. "If you mean to kill me, get on with it," you said, your voice steady despite the rapid beat of your heart.
Adar chuckled, a sound devoid of warmth. "Kill you? No. You are far more valuable alive."
He leaned forward, studying you as though you were a puzzle to be solved. "You carry the stench of him," he said, his lip curling. "Sauron. Mairon. Halbrand. Whatever name he uses now. You’ve been bound to him longer than I imagine, Nelyanna,”
You stiffened at his words, your fists clenching against the bindings. Adar smiles weakly at you as he knows he has broken your facade by calling you by who he knew you as. The fallen goddess, forever bound to her shadow. You had been there when he struck that blow; you had watched as he murdered the being you loved. Stood idly by as your beloved husband choked on his ambitions and his black blood.
Finally, you regained your voice and gazed into your captor's eyes. "I have nothing to do with him anymore," you said. “I left him. I want no part of his plans."
Adar’s expression darkened, his eyes narrowing. "You may think you’ve left him, but you don’t understand what you are to him, do you?" He rose to his feet, his presence commanding as he paced around you. "You are a thread in his tapestry, a piece of his grand design. Even now, I can feel his faint pull through you."
His words sent a chill down your spine, but you refused to let him see your fear, for Maiar were never supposed to fear anything less than them. "If you think you can use me to reach him, you’ll be disappointed," you said, your voice firm. "He doesn’t care about me anymore."
Adar stopped, his gaze piercing. "Oh, he cares," he said. "You are his weakness, his flaw. For all his cunning, for all his power, he cannot sever his connection to you. And that is why you are so important."
He crouched before you, his face inches from yours. "I will use you, yes," he said, his voice soft but deadly. "Not as a tool for his schemes, but as bait. He will come for you. He cannot resist. And when he does…" His eyes gleamed with malice. "I will end him. For good."
Your heart raced, your mind spinning with the implications of his words. Adar was no mere villain; he was driven by hatred, by a desire to see Sauron’s end at any cost. And now, you were caught in the middle of his web.
"You’re wrong," you said, though your voice wavered.
Adar’s smile was cold. "We shall see," he said. He rose, gesturing to the orcs. "Cage her. Ensure she is watched at all times. For she is just as deceitful as he is."
They grabbed you roughly, dragging you toward a crude iron cage at the edge of the camp. As the door slammed shut behind you, you sank to the ground, your thoughts racing. You had left Eregion to escape him, to free yourself from the shadow of his ambitions. And yet, here you were, once again, a pawn in the game that Sauron’s existence seemed to cast upon the world.
You stared out of the bars of your cage, the orcs sharpening their weapons and preparing for the battle that would ensue. And in the quiet of the night, you whispered a plea, not to the Valar nor the stars, but to the man you had once loved.
"Don’t come for me," you murmured, tears slipping down your cheeks. "Please, don’t."
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fairylightsinthemist · 5 months ago
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Sleeping with the ‘96 crew in the wilderness preferences
YJ Girls x Fem! Reader
JACKIE TAYLOR
- This girl had you locked down to sleep next to her even on that first night on the forest floor
- She claimed that you were the best to sleep with because you didn’t snore (that bad :p)
- Once the cabin was found and everyone settled, you thought she’d ditch you for Shauna
- But nope, that first night you both were nose to nose beside each other, talking about anything to distract you from the reality of the situation
- Jackie is a restless sleeper, so you often wake up to bruises on your legs. That girls got a mean kick!
- More often than not, you two will stay really close for warmth (or at least that’s what Jackie says ;) )
SHAUNA SHIPMAN
- It wasn’t really on purpose, but you and Shauna just kinda ended up by each other in the cabin on that first night there
- You two weren’t super close before, so you were shocked when in the dead of night you heard a faint whisper .. “Pssst, Y/N.. you up?” And a tapping on your shoulder.
- Eyes shooting open, you slowly turned over and looked at her. “Can we share your blanket please?” Shauna asked.
-Eyebrows furrowed, you sleepily gave her some of your cover. Patting your shoulder awkwardly, Shauna muttered a thank you.
- Now it was an unsaid real that you shared your blanket every night, and it brought you and Shauna closer. :)
TAISSA TURNER
- You didn’t want Taissa sleeping up in the attic alone, call it empathy or whatever, but you just couldn’t let that happen.
- So, there you two were, talking and cutting up half out of fun and half to distract you both from the fact that it was creepy as hell up there.
- At some point you both fell asleep, so when you woke up to find only you there, your heart skipped a beat.
- After scanning the main room for her, you just bit the bullet and went outside with a dim lantern.
- You found her standing there in a daze, and that became the story of how you learned she sleep walks.
- So, soon it became you and her tied together, quite literally, and if it was to make Taissa safer, you didn’t care how many red marks you got. You wanted your friend to be safe.
NATALIE SCATORRCIO
- Natalie was kind of a lone wolf when it came to community or family due to her past, so you often found her up in the middle of the night.
- You had a hard time sleeping, but made it less known to the girls. So when you get up in the middle of the night to stretch your legs, finding Natalie’s eyes looking at you made you jump and quietly yelp.
- She quietly laughed. “Sorry, Y/N. I’m just shocked to see you up, is all.” She quietly whispered. She ushered you over.
-To your surprise, she was calling you over to talk and just hang out. You hadn’t really talked to her much at school, so this was a change of pace for sure.
- Usually on nights, you ended up talking, playing cards in the dark, or just sitting in comfortable uncomfortable silence.
MISTY QUIGLEY
- Everyone thought Misty shouldn’t have even come, and you can’t say that you didn’t think that sometimes, too.
- You were nice to Misty, though, and she took to you because of that.
- On that first night in the cabin, there she was, standing in front of you with blanket and pillow in hand
- You sort of looked annoyed but feigned pleasant surprise and offered the spot beside you to Misty.
- She giddily accepted and made her pallet beside you, getting everything just right.
- She spent basically thirty minutes just talking, but you can’t say that you weren’t completely annoyed. You listened to her, because it seems like no one else did, the way she was talking.
- “Thank you for actually letting me talk, Y/N. I hope I can sleep here every night.” Misty whispered, smiling sweetly in the dark. How could you say no to that face??
- You nodded and turned over, knowing that you weren’t gonna let her sleep anywhere else now. She was your burden to bear. But, you and her would become closer. No worries :D
VAN PALMER
- Van and you were already tight knit on account of you both constantly shooting the shit and cutting up at games and school.
- So, when it came down to sleeping buddies, she claimed you as hers.
- The girls groaned, knowing that you two would be the source of all the giggling all night.
- Van was quiet though, and so were you, but that didn’t mean you were silent all night. Of course you guys talked.
- You would always ask Van to tell you stories before you went to sleep, because she was so good at it. She would often ask you to tell her about your life or favorite things, just to hear you talk.
- She was a sound sleeper, and you appreciated it. The nights felt better with her by your side.
LOTTIE MATTHEWS
- Ohhhh get ready for an off putting night whenever you’re sleeping next to her.
- Lottie hated the cabin, and it made her act strange.
- To try and ease her restlessness, you would often talk. There were times when you were scared of annoying her, but she would always tell you to keep talking. So you did.
- She was a great listener, and you always tried to get to know her better on these talks, but she didn’t really dive into her life.
- Usually the talks lulled her to sleep, and you were happy about that.
- - -
I’m so down to do more characters, but I just did the main ones for now. I hope you all enjoyed!!!!
- A 🩵
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bomber-grl · 7 months ago
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If you're still doing the event, could you possibly write Prompt 4 for Dipper Pines?
Prompt #4: kiss to the side of the head
“WOAH, watch out!” Dipper helped hoist you up.
Despite Mabel being a bit of a snitch and admittedly nosey at times, you and Dipper luckily managed to have her promise not to rat the both of you out.
It was late, like one in the morning type of late and with Dipper being restless and wanting to see you, you headed over.
It was difficult having to be quiet in the middle of the night, especially with someone like grunkle stan.
Not to mention the danger, now where were we? Right you almost slipped and fell off the roof.
Luckily Dipper caught you in time and you both sat down next to one another under the night sky.
“Hey can you pass that over?” Dipper signaled to the bag of snacks you bought before heading over and you took a few snacks and passed them.
He wasn’t doing much of anything, neither were you. You guys were just a pair of friends hanging out.
Well, more like lovers, you’d recently got together but it was still awkward. Maybe you were getting up and over your head but you really wanted to do something…
With Dipper distracted with the book he had gotten to explain things to you and slowly began inching closer and closer to his head.
Suddenly his head snapped up “what are you doing? Need a better view?” Guess your plans failed for now…
-
“You sure they’re by here?” You asked while trying to keep up with Dipper.
“I’m sure of it, the mushrooms should be around here somewhere…” and off he went. He suddenly wanted to explore this weird mushroom thing that he deemed harmless and so here you were in the forest.
You suddenly made it into a small clearing where the light was seeping through the cracks of the trees, all this walking got you tired so you sat down on a log.
“We should be careful” a voice spoke up suddenly from behind you, then Dipper made himself visible “the gnomes aren’t exactly happy with me.” He said obviously referring to the Mabel incident and some other unfortunate run ins.
“Yup, keep an eye out for the gnomes, got it.” You sighed.
Dipper sat down beside you on the log. “Am I boring you?” His eyebrow quirked up. Despite the assumption a normal person would make, he obviously was amused rather than upset.
“Nope, just here” you motioned to your surroundings “- I guess” and shrugged. Dippers eyes crinkled and he turned away while letting out a laugh.
Maybe it was time? I mean if you didn’t Dipper definitely would never make the first move. You loved him but he’s no Romeo.
Slowly but surely wasn’t gonna cut it this time so you abruptly placed your hands on Dippers head and kissed him there.
After you stopped you just stared at him, and he did the same. Except for the fact that while you were flustered, he was that and bewildered.
What’s more? He let out a shout that was too loud for comfort. You got up from the log and went running.
The silence and prolonged eye contact was too much and so you ran for a bit and hid behind a tree.
Which didn’t seem like the best move since you soon heard what you could assume were the Gnomes Dipper mentioned and some bickering between Dipper and their leader before sounds of fighting became apparent .
You gripped a nearby broken off branch, so that when you’re done hyperventilating you’ll go help Dipper out.
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liveontelevision · 8 months ago
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MY FAVE POOKIE.... BY ANY CHANCE CAN.. CAN YOU WRITE FOR A VAMPIRE LUCI?? <3 I FEEL LIKE YOU'D CAPTURE HIM PERFECTLY
YOU'RE ONTO SOMETHING HERE BBG
(You're drawing of vamp Luci is literal eye candy and I'M IN A SUGAR COMAAA) I got way into the lore here I literally did nothing but write and edit this today - THAT BEING SAID this may need a 2nd part but lmk what y'all think
CW: He's a vamp, so.. blood in suggestive situations obvi
♡♡♡
Bite Me | Vamp Lucifer x Reader
"Isn't it just amazing?" You hold a book, opened to a certain illustration, far too close to your friend's eyes. They push the book back a bit just to get a peak, considering their nose was essentially in the pages. The paper reeked of dust and mildew. They subsided a sound of disgust to inspect the illustration you were so eager to show off.
"Oh! This is that weird mansion on the other side of town, but.. it looks..." 
"Stunning? This was what it looked like when it was first built and look-" You excitedly point out a certain tower, it was so thin and far back, that not even the pencil of the original artist could capture its true detail.
"Wait,  that's not there anymore, is it? Weird." Your friend shrugged it off, clearly not as invested as you. You scoff, pulling the book to your chest.
"Well.. not in the daytime, at least." You muttered. This was your hometown's rumor that's been spread for centuries. On the highest hill, past the overcrowded forest, sits the darkest and most foreboding manor anyone has seen. Even the oldest living relatives of those who have seen it, never recall what it looked like in its glory days. No one's quite sure when it was first built. It's as if it had always been there.
No one would really talk, only the seniors and the more.. eccentric.. People would even mention it. A tower that exceeded the height of the full moon, which was the only time it was visible to the naked eye. You've seen it yourself. But you were too inspired, too invested, to be satisfied with a little rumor and a single sighting.
You did your research. You scowered the forest, only to get lost for hours. You managed to find the manor, but in its close proximity, there was no sign of that tower. You found a book, shoved away under some shelf in your public library, depicting poorly written journal entries and illustrations. From what you could decipher, it was older than the town.. it must belong to its original tenants.
The handwriting was almost entirely illegible, which was disappointing, but the pictures inside.. they were crafted beautifully. Scenic drawings of the forest, animals, and a few of a stunning woman were scattered throughout. Every historian you tried to contact left your messages unopened. Any townspeople you'd show the pictures to, to see if they’d recognize the woman at least, looked at you like you were crazy.
Well.. crazy or not, there's only one real way to settle this.
You mark your calendar, circling every full moon for the rest of the year. And it nearly took that long to finally spot the tower, again. After all this time, restless nights where you'd fall asleep with the book in hand, strained sessions of trying to decipher the wording, yet it all got you nowhere. You'd lost friends because of this. You've skipped dates. All because of this damned tower. 
But finally, here it is! Ready to throw yourself from your bedroom window, you take the bag that had been packed for months in case of this very instant, but decide it best to leave through the front door.
You had memorized the path to the manor at this point. What could possibly be drawing you in so deeply? What history could this place possibly hold? Who was the woman drawn in this book.. and who was the artist? You stood in awe, finally seeing the tower up close. The manor itself seemed to be made of an entirely different stone. You jot down your notes and the differences you're seeing in a small book.
You nearly squeal at the sound of the creaking double doors, as you step inside. It wasn't your first time here, you reach into your bag to obtain the little map you had drawn out a few weeks back. Were you going insane? Who's to say? You traced your finger across a path you had drawn, then with determination, went towards the corridor that should lead you to whatever you were looking for.
You stopped and took pictures on occasion, observing things you have seen countless times over the past few months. It still managed to take your breath away. You turned around, stepping backward, to observe the intricate detailing of the high ceilings, letting out little ooh's and aah's you'd assume no one would hear. But you couldn't be sure.
You nearly stumble, turning to face the corridor head-on. A crumbling noise had sent a shock of fear and curiosity into your heart. Was this place ready to cave in? Did something else cause the destruction?
As you continue on, you decide it best to place headphones over your ears. With one ear still slightly free, you do your best to distract your fears and keep exploring. As you hum along, occasionally breaking out into song, your eyes are drawn to a small doorway that definitely was not there during your previous visits. It's made of a different wood than the other doors. It looks.. newer. The handle seems used as If the oils of a hand had worn down its clean coating. This has to be it. Your hand is shaking as you reach for the door, and your heart drops for a moment. It’s warm underneath your touch. With a final breath, you open the door.
It’s.. not exactly what you were expecting. The door led to an impossibly long spiral staircase, you weren't sure if you could make it to the top before daylight. It's too late to go back now, though. You dredge on. As you start your climb, the music from your headset turns to static. And what you expected to be a mile-long staircase ended in mere seconds. Confused by the distortion of the building, you pull out your little journal to document your new discovery as you continue on. 
The steps lead into the tower, you were sure of it. The bricks of the walls and the wood of the doors, it was all different than the manor below. It opened into a short hallway, with a few doors on either side. Opposite to you was a window. It wasn’t shattered or cracked, or even dusty. You press your hands against it and lean forward to see the view of your town. In a stereotypical, I can see my house from here! moment, you pull out your phone to take yet another picture, but.. it's dead. After being fully charged before your arrival. Of course. It's a magical tower that only appears on a full moon and has disappearing staircases, you weren't too shocked by sorcery after what you've exposed yourself to.
As you take in the terrifying height of the structure from the window, something happens that officially startles you for the first time tonight. You hear a gruesome cackling from behind a nearby doorway.
You quickly find its source, pressing your ear to the wooden door. You couldn't make out any specific words, but there was a voice. It was a man's voice. He seemed to laughing, then groaning and complaining about something, then talking some more.. quite a blabbermouth for someone who seems to be alone, you don't hear any other voices.
You have a weapon in your bag. It's nothing fancy, just a little switchblade, but you assumed it'd be enough to ward off at least a single person. Just in case. You decide to go in.
"Oh, who am I kidding, this sucks!" An exacerbated groan, and the sound of something crashing, can be heard as you crack the door open a bit. You peek inside.
A pacing man is surrounded by trinkets, books and tools in some kind of workshop. He looks human.. almost. You notice his skin is nearly paper white. It has a beautiful glow to it, that contrasts against his mostly black wardrobe. You clock his clothes as almost Victorian, a puffed blouse that cinches in at his waist with the assistance of a red-laced vest. His heels seem a bit tall for the time period, but even then, he's actually rather.. short. Despite that, his hair was slicked back but seemed to be coming undone. You watch him pace around for a while longer, finally capturing his arms running through his hair. They're tapered black, as if his hands were dipped in soot. How odd. You want a picture. You want to talk to him, to ask him questions.
You're too engrossed in the view you were spying on to notice he had stopped his jabbering and was now frozen in place at the sight of you. An awkward amount of time passes before either of you make a decision on what to do next.
You decide it best to just forget about this random encounter. This was obviously just another dream. It wasn't, but this wouldn't even be the strangest one you've had. You finally break eye contact, pulling the door shut behind you.
You lean your entire body against it, desperate to keep him contained until you can get your thoughts straightened out. Maybe he's nice! Maybe he's not an insane, inhuman, tinkerer who talks to himself. Before you can think a moment longer, the door opens and thoroughly knocks you to the floor. You scuff your knees and palms against the stone floor, hissing at the wounds before turning on your back to face your attacker.
Okay, it wasn't an attack, exactly. He just opened the door you were standing in front of. You were a little shocked, considering you were putting your full weight on it and he swung it open like nothing was there at all.
your widened eyes were met with his yet again. They seemed different than before. His irises were suddenly glowing a crimson red, staring down at you with a look of disgust. Your heart rate quickens as you finally catch more of his features. The glow of his eyes and the moonlight from the window show off a set of demonic horns, twisting and turning from his temples, and pointed ears. Then finally, you spot his frown- then his fangs.
You slowly crawl backward, making as much distance as you can before your back hits the cold stone of the wall. Your breathing rapidly as he kneels down, continuing to observe your tense body language from such a close distance.
"What is this- how did you get in? I made a whole fancy labyrinth for you little humans and you still manage to pester me." He seems curious now, still annoyed by the interruption, but curious. He catches the sight of your blade, taking it from underneath your hand.
"And you thought this could kill me?" He scoffs, tossing it to the side. "I thought the ones smart enough to get in would put more effort into their weapon of choice." He finally stands, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down at you. His piercing red irises had you staring for an inappropriately long time. He looks around, then behind him, in disbelief that you'd be this lost in his eyes. He clears his throat to get your attention.
"N-no! I don't want to kill you, I swear! I just.. I wanted to..." Why were you here again? To find what's inside the haunted tower? To explore a rumor and find the truth? You'd hate to consider it.. but could you have been wasting all this time after finally being faced with the anticlimactic answer? Your silence doesn't seem to amuse the stranger.
"What, you just stumbled upon my hidden tower? That doesn't sound right. Well, I'll tell you now, I'm not some genie or wizard- I won't grant you wishes or anything stupid like that." He starts to head back to his office. "I have nothing to offer you, so just pretend this is a nightmare or something and go home." You see a little flame puff from his lips as he speaks, clearly irritated by your presence. 
"Wait- wait! I forgot!" You stumble to your feet, wincing at the pain in your scraped knees, but still going on to fumble through your bag. You find your tattered book. The relic that started this all.
"Is this yours?" He takes the book from your hand, skimming through the pages then glaring back up to meet your eyes. 
"Did you steal this?" You shake your head with haste, watching him continue to examine the book. "Then.. yes. This is mine. I'm surprised it's still in one piece." He stops at one of the drawings of the woman. He brushes his hand across the illustration with a dreamy sigh.
"She's beautiful." Your voice breaks his concentration and you see his pale skin turn ever so slightly pink. 
"She is, isn't she?" With a warm smile, you almost forget his threatening nature.
"Who was she?" He looks away from you, letting the book shut.
"It's not important. You need to leave." He leads you to the door. You try to keep up with his strides, only to fumble, your knees weak and bruised from the previous fall. He spots the bleeding scuffs and groans.
"Good lord, you humans are so fragile." You hear him grumble before he's turned on his heels and is dragging you back towards that workshop you intruded on. He grabs you by your arms and guides you to sit down at a little table he had set up. You examined the room after he had walked away. You saw his workbench. It held numerous little springs and gears, paints, and brushes. Looking to the side, you see a shattered figurine, probably what he had thrown during his little tantrum you spied on.
Seeing him standing above you stops your wandering eyes. He kneels down, already wrapping your wounded knees in gauze. You watched him silently. You were surprised at how comfortable the space seemed, considering a man with a demonic presence was currently tending to you like a nurse.
"So.. what are you exactly?" You finally blurted out. You had so many questions, but this was a good place to start.
"Oh. Um.. I think I hear humans referring to me as a vampire." Your blood runs cold and you squeeze the edge of your seat on either side. You feel his hand tremor for a moment, letting his eyes linger on your legs before finishing up one knee with a neat tie. He moves on to the next.
"So you're immortal and drink blood and all that?" He scoffs at your questioning shaking his head. You sound like a curious child.
"That’s.. Mostly correct. Actually, your human literature seemed to accurately portray a lot of my abilities. I'm almost impressed."
"Should I be scared?" You ask with an almost teasing tone, as if that weren't possible.
"Why? Do you think I'm scary?" He looks up for a moment, meeting your eyes. Its subtle, but you see them glowing just slightly. And it almost makes you nervous. Enraptured in an emotion you have to assume is fear, you watch his hands trail around and calf to bring your leg a bit closer. He sticks out his tongue. It's similar to a serpents’. Your eyes follow his tongue to your knee, where he licks the entirety of the wound.
In a state of shock, all you do is tense in your seat, wincing from his action. His tongue reels back, stained with the blood from your own wound. He lets out a breathy hum, before realizing his place.
"E-excuse me, I uh.. have healing properties..?" You cock your head to the side, the confusion in your mind quickly replaced with curiosity.
"Woah, really?" He finishes off your other knee.
".. No. Okay, all patched up. You have to leave." He said hurriedly before the realization could set in. He was embarrassed by his actions sure, but the sunrise softly lighting the room seemed to make him anxious.
"Wait- no! I have so many questions! Why do I have to go? How does this place just vanish in the daytime? Why are you here all alone?" You start to ramble as he manages to move you with ease. "A-at least tell me your name!" You say quickly, breaking from his grasp just before he can shove you out the door. He stops and lets out a sigh.
"Fine. Here." He reaches into his shirt and pulls out a small golden crystal attached to a necklace. Forcing your eyes down to his dipped neckline made you a bit red in the cheeks. With a quick motion, he swings it over your neck.
"This is an Asmodean crystal. You'll be able to see and enter my tower on any night now. You.. you're welcome to return when you see fit." You stare at the small gem in amazement.
"And.. you're just trusting me with this?"
He shrugs, smiling at you for the first time tonight. "You haven't given me a reason not to. You're definitely not a threat." You hum in response, despite his obvious condescending nature. giving the gem one last examination, you tuck it away into your own shirt.
".. And it's Lucifer."
You can't help but grin. “Okay! Time to go! The sun’s almost up!” He rushes you.
"Hm! I'll be back, then, I promise! I'll see you, Lucifer!" You excitedly wave and head back down the stairs. Lucifer.. Your mind was running with possibilities as you left. You turned to the door before leaving, but by the time you looked back, it was simply.. bricked over. You felt almost disappointed. But feeling for the necklace and twirling it between your fingers reminds you that this was all real. He's real.
Lucifer said you could visit. And so you did. While you passed out almost immediately once you returned home, you waited eagerly for the sun to set the next night. You check your window, again. With the crystal squeezed tightly in your fist, you see the familiar tower yet again, despite the full moon being nowhere in sight.
Unfortunately, you are human. You do have a life to live. It took you a few days before you could visit, again, but eventually you did. And it was perfect. Looking down upon in your hometown, it was refreshing to have a new friend. You told him about your own life, giving him some brief history lessons on things he might not know, and bringing him the stereotypical vampire merchandise from current media. He deemed it offensive.
You got him to talk about his past after some pushing. He was one of many brothers, all of them were bloodsuckers of their own accord.
"Wow.. so you came from a whole family of vampires? I mean.. if you don't mind me asking, why aren't you there? What brings you to my glamorous little town?" You say your last question with an eye roll. You were seated at a little bench, a comfortable nook that was set at the window in his workshop, as you watched him working on some sort of mechanical toy. You notice a slight frown tugging at his lips in response to your question.
"Hm. My brothers aren't exactly a fan of me. And you speak sarcastically, but it is actually quite nice here. The air is clearer, and there's much less fire." You look out the window as he's talking.
"Wait.. less fire than where?" He slipped up. You've noticed over these past few visits that he's not too keen on disclosing certain parts of his past. You see him stop what he's doing and curse under his breath.
"I.. I'm from a different realm, of sorts. It's dingy and dark and everyone there cares for nothing but bloodlust." He explains carefully.
"Damn, that sounds like Hell." You pull your knees to your chest, just attempting to sympathize with him by your words.
"You have no idea." He chuckles in response, seeming disarmed enough to continue his tinkering.
"Do you ever go back there? You have to see your family sometimes, right?" He's groaning quietly at your questions.
"Well, yes and no. I'm always here in my tower. And I put a lot of work into making it my own. I'd keep it here forever if I could, but it takes quite a bit of energy from me to keep it in good shape in this realm, so when the sun is out-"
"You return to your own realm! Wow.." you wished you had your book on you to write all this down. But it seemed unnecessary to bring a survival kit here. You felt so safe. 
"How about that lady? In your book? Is she someone from that realm? A family member, maybe?" You bombard him with questions yet again. You do that a lot. He looked over at you with an unenthused glare. You laugh nervously and wave your hands. "N-Nevermind, sorry."
He's made it clear that he doesn't appreciate all these questions. But when he does open up, you can't help but appreciate his fantastical stories.
Looking for a change in topic, you approach his bench, looking over whatever he was working on. With one final screw being turned in, he looks up to you and shows you the small trinket silently. You take it, a bit nervous of its delicacy, and examine it.
"It's fine, it won't break." He rolls his eyes at your nerves. "Like this." He places a hand below yours to steady your grasp and lifts the top of the little round structure to reveal a little sculpted scene. It’s of a pond, with some fish and ducks visible on the pond. It looked so real, despite its size. He smirks at your enthralled expression, reaching for a small key on the back and turning it. It releases a gentle tune, the ducks suddenly spinning and dancing across the pond.
"A music box..?" You question. You look towards him and notice his reaction. He looks almost nervous like he was expecting some harsh critique.
"It's beautiful, Lucifer! Did you use magic or something? This is so cool!" Your outburst leaves him slightly surprised, and just a bit blushed.
"Y-Yes, it is pretty, isn't it?" He says softly, looking away with a smile. By the time he's looking back to you, still enjoying the little trinket, the sun is just peaking from the hills. He should rush to get you out of there. Humans don't belong in his realm, definitely not this one.. but he doesn't want this to end. He wants to show you more, while he listens to you rant about something useless. He shakes his head to reality. He can't have these feelings. Not again.
"It's morning. I'm afraid you have to go, dear." You look just as disappointed as he does, but follow him to the exit either way.
"Wait, here-" You hold the intricate music box back out to him, but he closes his hands around yours, encasing it in your grasp.
"Keep it." His hands are cold. You notice that his skin is always cold, no matter the weather. You wonder if he thinks about the warmth of your hands just as much. Your hands are held together for a bit too long, but the sight of your face in the golden light of the sunrise has him frozen in place.
"What happens if I stay?" Your hasty question snaps him away, quickly tucking his hands behind his back.
"Absolutely not." He says sternly, reaching around and opening his door. "Sorry.. I just.. It’s not safe. You’ll be back though, right?." He smiles, and it always disarms you. Briefly disappointed, you nod and give him a quick wave. You head back to your regular vampire-free life for the time being.
You find yourself back in his workshop, a few months later. The visits were becoming more frequent and neither of you seemed to complain about it.
Since then, the room has been decorated with pillows or blankets you've brought. On occasion, you'd go to see him just to sleep uncomfortably on the small cushioned nook near the window. He never seemed to mind. He'd wake you up carefully before the sun rose.
Other times, you'd bring him tools or gifts from your hometown that he might like, and occasionally you'd get him to eat actual food.
One night you set out one of your blankets on the ground and forced him to sit with you, after seeing him get flustered with whatever he was working on.
"Can you actually eat? Does it do anything for you?" He shrugs in response to your question, popping a little chocolate confection into his mouth.
"Not really. It's more for enjoyment than anything. And these are definitely enjoyable." As he hums at the sweets, he moves to lie down across the blanket, resting his head in your lap. "Where are they from?"
You look down at the little heart-shaped box you've both been taking the treats from and cringe.
"A.. uh.. person. It was a gift. Someone tried to take me out for Valentine's Day, but I wasn't interested." You say quietly.
"Right.. it’s Valentine’s Day… Well, what was wrong with them? Were they rude to you? Ugly?" He asks between bites. You laugh and take a chocolate for yourself.
"No, nothing like that.. they just..." They weren't you. "N-not my type is all." You stammer, quickly shoving the chocolate into your mouth. What are you thinking? He's laughing at you now.
"So you'd rather spend your Valentine's Day with an old crone?" He was joking, but he was right.
"Yeah.. I think I would, actually. I love visiting you." You said calmly, trying your best to keep the compliments.. platonic. Peeking down at him for a second, you notice his tense posture and pink cheeks.
"I-I just- it's not that big a deal, I mean, I've never really celebrated Valentine's Day anyway, so.." You start to fidget with your crystal necklace, picking at the thread and running your thumb along its smooth surface.
"Well..! Then... I'm glad you're enjoying my company, I suppose." He tries to de-escalate the brief tension. You change the subject matter.
"Well, if we're getting on my social life, then I have a question." You finally say. He seems nervous for a moment but is playing it cool to the best of his ability.
"Shoot."
"So, you stay in your tower all day, don't see your family, I don't even hear you talk about that woman from your drawings.. Have you just been alone this whole time?"
He freezes for a moment, before putting a chocolate back into the box and clearing his throat.
"No.. not the whole time." He sighs, standing and going to fetch something. He returns to sit across from you and you’re a little disappointed he didn’t return his head to rest in your lap. It was a journal, it had a similar binding to the one you had found over a year ago.
"Her name is Lillith." He starts, flipping the pages and stopping at one of her drawings. "She's from my realm, and.. we fell in love." For some reason, your heart ached at his words. "I decided to show her this place many years ago, and she wanted to see a nearby village, so.. we went down there together. It was disgusting. People were treating each other so foul, it was loud and dirty, and there was no sign of intelligence." His voice goes dark for a moment, allowing you to flip through the book. "But Lillith loved them. She saw their potential and.. wanted to stay with them. So we made a deal. She'd explore the village when the full moon was out and then return to me the rest of the time."
You look up from the book, seeing that her drawings had stopped about halfway through. The rest of the book was empty.
"So is she.." you mutter, letting the book drop to see his pained expression.
"I haven't seen her in years. Might be decades at this point, but.. it's hard to keep track. I have no idea where she could be, but if she ever returns then-"
"You're waiting for her?" You interrupt, your voice has a hint of irritation to it.
"Hm. I guess I am. I've given up trying to find her, but I still keep this place standing. Just in case." His face reads dejected as he speaks.
"Do you still love her?" You ask. Of course, he does. He's a romantic, waiting for his long-lost love to return. But he looks at you, with a worried expression. Like he wanted to reassure you that wasn't the case.
"I..I do." He says softly. You feel your chest aching still, and you clench the blanket in your fists on either side of you. "I think so? I-I'm not sure." He groans, running his hands through his hair. "Is that terrible of me?" 
You think for a moment. You have to tread lightly. If he truly loves her, it might be best for you to keep your distance to avoid any.. confusion. You let out a defeated sigh, placing your hand on his shoulder to bring his panicked attention back to you.
"Not at all. It's.. nice. That you can love someone that much, especially after all this time." He smiles in return, placing a hand over top of yours.
"How long has it been, do you think?"
"Hmm.. From what I remember.. when were hot air balloons invented?" He genuinely questioned.
"Good lord."
(The answer is over 300 years ago)
You stopped visiting him for a while. After that night, you needed to step away and consider what you were really doing. He's not just an immortal vampire, he's an immortal vampire still holding out hope for a woman he hasn't seen in centuries. And you're just a human. That kind of relationship only works in movies. The sleep schedule you've created has nearly destroyed your social life and you barely have energy in the daytime anymore. Maybe it was for the best to keep your distance. But you have to tell him that. You can't just disappear, he doesn't deserve to feel that pain, again.
You enter his tower as usual, bringing an empty bag to escort some of your belongings back home. To your apartment, your awful tiny apartment. You avoid comparing it to the elegant manor, it's only making you want to back out. You go through the hall, swinging his workshop door open.
"Luciferrr! Sorry to be away for so long, but I think we should talk." You look around to realize you are speaking to an empty room. You look back to the hall. You've never been through any of the other rooms, but he had to be somewhere. And he wasn't responding to your calls.
You open each door carefully, seeing mostly empty storage and cobwebs. One of the rooms was filled to the brim with clothing from all decades. You make a mental note to tease him for playing dress up, later.
You knock at each door, finally opening one that greets you with the warmth of a bedroom. And by warmth, you mean it. You take any coat you were wearing off, finally spotting Lucifer lying in the elegant bed in the center of the room.
"Huh.. I thought you said vampires don't need sleep." You call out, letting your eyes scan the room as you approach the bedside. He's curled up and unresponsive. His sudden panting briefly eased your nerves, at least he’s breathing.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to just barge in, but.. Lucifer? Are you okay?" You reach out and place your hand to his shoulder. He's hot to the touch. You move his body so that he's lying on his back, and he seems even more distressed.
"L-Lucifer..? Lucifer!" You try to speak quietly, but his actions are making you nervous. He finally shoots upward, gripping his bare chest in an attempt to calm his rapid breathing. He does a double take, not believing that you were at his side. Not to mention your scared expression, which is only causing him more concern.
"I-I'm alright! I'm okay.." He lets out a sigh, brushing his hair back. He scans the room, peering out the window. "Ah, nighttime already? I'm sorry, darling, I didn't mean to worry you." He turns back to you, seeing your still-shaken expression. "I slept in! It's okay!" He reassures, patting the side of his bed. You hesitate, but sit down either way.
"I thought.. You didn’t need sleep." You say softly, looking to calm yourself.
"I don't, but it is relaxing sometimes."
"That didn't look relaxing at all."
"Well.. I did say only sometimes." You let out a quiet chuckle and it brings a smile to his face.
"I rest when I'm feeling a bit weak, usually a quick nap helps. But.. sometimes I get nightmares and they're-" You interrupt him.
"Weak? Why are you feeling weak? Did something happen?" You lean in, still feeling uneasy.
"... Just a bit. Don't get me wrong, I am quite powerful-” He loves to gloat about his abilities, your usual reactions of amazement never got old. “-but.. this tower takes its toll on me sometimes. It takes a lot of energy to set up illusions and tricks to keep humans out. I just needed a quick pick me up, that's all." That seemed to calm you a bit, but it did bring up another concern.
"Lucifer.. why do you keep coming back here? Is it worth the trouble? Is.. she worth the trouble?" You ask timidly. His eyes are soft, looking in your direction. It turns you a bit red, you hope you can blame it on the heat of the room if he asks.
"I don’t know.. I’ve been thinking. I-If Lillith has any plans on returning, I'd think she would've done so by now." You feel hopeful, but you attempt to not let it show. "But, I've been here for centuries and I've grown rather fond of... the atmosphere." He tries to reason. He pulls your chin forward, greeting you with a sweet smile. "I'm alright, I promise."
You can't help but return the smile, but you miss his touch once he pulls away. At this point, you're finally taking in his appearance. He's covered in sweat, the bags under his eyes are tremendous and his lips are trembling a bit to keep up a smile.
"Are you sure? You still seem.." You reach your hand out, as if you were about to touch his face, but you see him reel back.
"Clearly, I didn't get a good night's rest.. maybe you should head home, dear, I'm not much fun to be around when I'm like this.." He sulks, making it a point to avoid looking at you. With just the sight of you, he might as you to stay.
"No!" His wide-eyed expression shows that you've clearly just embarrassed yourself. "No, I mean- I don't want to leave. Can I help? Can you.. drink my blood or something? Would that do anything?" He's immediately blushing at your suggestion, right to the tips of his ears. He quickly declines.
"No. Nonono.. That is not happening." He crosses his arms over his still bare chest, which neither of you has mentioned yet. That’s not to say you haven't been staring.
"Would it help?" You ask. He sighs and nods. "Would it kill me?" He shakes his head. "Not if I'm careful.."
"Will it turn me into a vampire or something?" He shakes his head, again.
"Then do it. I want to help you! It's the least I can do since you’ve been so sweet to me." You say sternly, beginning to move the strap of your shirt, revealing a bare shoulder.
"Woah woah, okay. Fine.. I’ll just take a little. Since you're so insistent." He moves your strap back up your shoulder carefully. "And there's no need for that, dear, don't get too excited." He teases. He looks like he’s on the brink of death, yet he still manages to make fun of you.
"I-I'm not excited! Shut up.." you stammer, as you feel him pull your hand towards him, keeping a grip just below your wrist.
"Whatever you say." His smirk has you blushing, again." you ready?" You nod your head, attempting to keep a straight face despite the reality of the situation.
He leans forward to face you, and you move closer to be more comfortable. With his clawed hands still holding your arm delicately, he brings your palm to his lips. You feel his hot breath against your skin and instinctively flex your hand. He stops abruptly and looks at you.
"I-I'm fine, just do it already!" He rolls his eyes and positions his fangs right at the pulse point on your wrist. With a deep breath from both of you, he sinks his teeth into your flesh. The skin is thin there, so it wasn't as painful as you thought it would be.
It's awkward for a moment, you don't feel any different at first. But looking towards Lucifer, you see his eyes turning that glowing crimson red that had startled you when you first met. Sure, it still startled you now, but it was Lucifer. He's not as scary as he looks, you tell yourself. You feel a breath of hot air from his nostrils, realizing he had been holding his breath this whole time. His eyes fluttered shut, and that's when you felt it.
It felt like getting your blood drawn, but his fangs were less painful than the needles somehow. You'd only notice your hand start to fall asleep after a while. But his expression stopped you from saying anything. His heavy breaths against your skin, as he occasionally pulled away to lick the wound clean, only to sink his teeth back in the same spot. You placed your free hand over your mouth to prevent any noises from escaping your lips. He pulled off for a moment, then sunk his teeth in another spot, feverishly placing multiple bite marks across the entirety of your wrist. You attempt to speak up through your hand.
"L-Lucifer.. I-I'm..!" He stops almost immediately, sitting up straight and blinking his eyes back to their usual hue. He looks down to your wrist, a mess of bite marks, all still leaking your crimson blood. Your hand had fallen slack.
"Sorry! Sorry-" He runs his tongue across the wounds, it seemed to stop the blood for now. "How do you feel?" Your eyes are dazed a bit, and when you go to prop yourself up on your previously ravished wrist you fall forward. He catches you by your arms, before you can fall away from the bed. You shake your head, finally looking at him through half-lidded eyes.
"I'm okay.." you say weakly. He's nervously trying to keep your head up, and brushing hair away from your face. He moves to the other side of the bed, and brings you along to lie down beside him. He sits on his knees to examine you, keeping a hand cupping your cheek. It's cool to the touch again, a relief for you. You shakily place your hand on top of his, then look towards him. "You look amazing, Lucifer~" You say with a dizzy smile. Despite the wording, you were right. His skin had brightened up, and he instantly lost the bags from his eyes.
"I might've done too much.." He mumbled, tracing his free hand across your wrist. "You're starting to sound crazy."
"No..! I mean it, you're just.. beautiful.. quite a sight." You're delirious. He starts to worry, suppressing his excitement for the oncoming compliments. He'll have to let you rest, no matter how disappointed that made him. He'd missed your company these past few days.
"Whatever you say, darling. Go ahead and rest, I'll get you some water." And he does just that.
You had left some water bottles and snacks here a few months ago, so he hastily took those and brought them back to you. He set everything on the nightstand and went over to open the glass doors to the balcony of his room, bringing in a fresh night breeze. He put an actual shirt on, finally, on the way to look over you from the side of the bed. 
You were just sitting up, leaning against the headboard as you took a very needed gulp of water.
"So? How did I taste?" You tease, stretching your hand now that you’re regaining feeling.
"Delicious." He sounds flirtatious but almost serious. It has you blushing.
Lucifer had gone off to work on something after you insisted you'd be fine and just needed a few more minutes of rest. That didn't go how you expected. You came here to set some boundaries and here you are in his bed, covered in bite marks. The implications alone made you groan from embarrassment.  And slightly in disbelief. You huff and attempt to stand, it’s not too bad, then move to the balcony and lean against the railing. The breeze ran through your hair and across your heated face, you let out a sigh of relief.
"Feeling better, dear?" His voice has you turning your head a bit, and you greet him with a smile. You nod your head before returning your eyes to the town below.
“I’m glad. Thank you, for.. Letting me do that.” He says, sounding a bit shy. He joins you, leaning against the railing by your side. You both stand in silence for a moment.
"I think I'm in love with you, Lucifer." Maybe it was the blood loss or the sheer exhaustion, but something just forced those words from you. You keep your eyes away from him. If this could be the last time you see him, bringing this dream to an end, then you might as well let it out.
"O-Oh..! Hm! Well, that's uh.." He hoots, and you see his hands flexing against the railing. He can't even form a real response.
"It's stupid, I know. I'm a human, and you're this crazy immortal being. Plus, you just drank my blood. Maybe I'm still delirious.." You continue to toy with your gifted necklace, still keeping your eyes low. You don't know how you would react if you could see his expression right now.
"So.. you would... you want to be with me?" That's what he asks? That's his response?
"I-I mean.. yeah. You're my best friend, you're handsome and smart, and you're inventive and... I just love being around you. I want to.. I want to make you happy, but I just don't know if that's something I can do." Your gaze is finally brought to his when his claws gently guide your chin towards him. His expression is that of pure infatuation. You'd never expect to see him look like this, not when looking at you.
"You make me plenty happy, darling." Your eyes go wide.
"You're bright and fun, and you're adorably curious- I just worry as well. I'll outlive you. I've been locked up here for so long, I don't know how much I can offer you.. but it's definitely less than you deserve." His words send a pain to your chest. You both know, based on fact alone, it just wouldn't work.
"I only want you to be happy as well, love." His words force a nervous sigh from you. This seems like a night for bold decisions, so you decide to make another. You turn to face him, bring him in by his collar, and press your lips against his in one fell swoop. Giving him no time to comprehend the situation, he lets out a muffled exclamation into your lips. It felt like hours before you feel his hands on your waist, and his lips desperately ravishing yours. He pulls you closer to him, his hands now reaching your hips and gripping you tighter. You pull his lower lip down with your thumb, keeping a hand on his jaw as you do so, and begin to explore his mouth with your tongue feverishly. A small yelp at the boldness comes from Lucifer before his forked tongue is dancing with yours. You can still taste your own blood on his lips.
He turns the both of you, having your back pressed against the railing of the balcony, giving him the chance to corner you into being as close as possible. He leans his chest into yours, moving in even more. You're leaning over the railing just slightly, but one of his hands is firmly planted against your back, giving you a sense of security. The other is still gripping at your hips, occasionally slipping upwards to brush the bare skin beneath your top, his cool touch acting as a reminder that this is really happening. He props his knee between your legs, having to force them apart gently to do so.
You pull away with a deep exhale after realizing you've been anxiously holding your breath this whole time. Even leaning away from him, your mind was running rapidly with thoughts of his body. You trace your thumb over his lips, parting them just slightly to examine his fangs. He's turning red with the close inspection.
"W-What are you doing..?" You understand what he's trying to say, but his words are still muffled by your hold on him. He sees your eyes ponder for a moment before you look back to him.
"Bite me." You say sternly. Your hand slips away from his mouth and you start speckling small kisses across his forehead and cheeks, lifting his head slightly with a kiss to his jaw.
"Excuse me?? You want-" You hush his stammering by pulling back, to look into his eyes one more time.
"I want you to bite me.. my neck, I mean." You clearly weren't budging. He still seems hesitant but proceeds to move any hair away from your shoulder
"What, does someone enjoy being bitten?” He asks in a teasing tone, looking at you with a smirk. With a deadpan expression, your eyes brimming with lust, you take a hold of his collar again and pull him into a messy kiss. When you pull back, you see a dazed Lucifer, struggling to keep eye contact.
“Yes.”
He huffs, completely enthralled in your enthusiasm, but still seeming nervous. He pulls the strap to your shirt to the side, examining your collarbone and neck. You hear him gulp, as he runs his hand upward until it’s cradling the back of your head.
“I tend to lose myself a little. You saw what happened before, are you sure-"
"I'm sure. I'll tell you if you have to stop." Still very adamant about it, Lucifer pulls your head to one side as you keep your grip on his shirt, balling the fabric in your fists with anticipation.
He places a small kiss first, the action causing you to flinch slightly. You feel him smile on your neck, clearly enjoying your reaction. He kisses every inch of you, each one becoming sloppier than the last.
After thoroughly leaving you in a dazed state of affection, he traces his face to the softest part of your neck, just above your collarbone, and quickly snaps through the skin. With a startled yelp, you glide your hand upward until you've taken a tight grip onto his hair. You barely have time to appreciate how soft it is before you feel the sensation of his fangs piercing a different spot of flesh.
He doesn't seem to be taking much blood.. Definitely not as much as before and not as quickly. It's leaving your head slightly fuzzy, making any sensations, any marks he's leaving on your body, blur into an overall bliss. You're thoughtlessly letting out little moans and gasps at each bite, only encouraging him to keep it up. You feel the vibrations of his groaning against your skin as he moves to hold you tightly around your waist. After a few moments, you start to feel a bit woozy, your body completely melting into his touch. You tap his shoulder quickly,
"Ah.. Lucifer-" Just as before, he made sure to clean any wounds that were still dripping with blood, but he went on to embellish each one with a kiss before pulling away. He looks at you with concern, cupping your cheek and bracing the weight of your lulling head. You smile and hum into his palm.
"How are you doing, darling?" He actively inspects your entirety before meeting your eyes again.
"Lovely~" You say with a drunken chuckle. He pulls you in for another kiss, before easily scooping you up.
"Alright, then.. let's get you to bed, you little perv.” You hit his chest to the best of your ability in your weakened state. His laughter is music to your ears. You’re too tired to worry about how this will affect your relationship. Or your physical health for that matter. But for now, nothing has felt more comforting than his arms wrapped around your body, the cold soothing the heated moment, and your dizzy mind.
♡♡♡
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!Taglist!
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fatuismooches · 8 months ago
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Sobbing rn I just got hit with the cutest hurt/comfort idea for fragile!reader and Dottore
(The hurt in this instance is just fragile!reader's self deprecating inner monologue 😭)
What if reader was the sort who fussed over their appearance a lot? In the Akademiya they wouldn't be caught dead with dark circles under their eyes or having their hair messy.
Even if they did pull all nighters for a project, they always found time to put just a little bit of make-up on to lighten up their eyebags, and always had a simple yet neat hairstyle in mind in times they're in a rush.
They might be perishing from all the studies and assignments but they're going to look good doing it!
This made Reader and Zandik an even odder pair in the Akademiya. Reader who is always neat and in style, versus Zandik who just spent the whole night taking apart a ruin guard somewhere in Avidya Forest until the sun rose and he showed up as is.
That was one of the features Zandik found 'annoying' about Reader before they got together. Like - ugh they're so bubbly and energetic! They're running around everywhere and they're so chatty! Them with their— nice hair! And— pretty eyes, and those robes that actually fit them as if they were tailored! How pretentious of them— (he was down bad. Bro was coping with anger to bat away the feels)
But of course, that was all in the past. In the present, Reader can't take care of their appearance anymore. They couldn't even pick up a hairbrush, their joints ached horribly, they don't have the strength to hold something so light, they don't have the energy to do the basic care of untangling the strands of hair either.
They can't stand looking at their own reflection. That sense of 'wrongness' they couldn't fix, what they couldn't hide. How desperately they wanted to put just a little bit of blush at least, to give their skin some life with how sickeningly pale it was, no longer warm and saturated as it used to be.
They can't look at their eyes either. The greying, sagging bags beneath their lids was a taunt. No amount of sleep would get rid of them.
They can't wear outfits that were too elaborate. Their temperature fluctuated too much, a deathly cold beneath their skin, then a sudden spike in heat as if they were being scorched by the desert sun. They have to wear basic garments, comfortable without hindering layers to slow down their daily check-ups.
Reader is thankful for the segments caring for them, they really are. A segment brushing their hair while talking to them is a highlight of their day.
But... it wasn't the same.
Of course it wouldn't be, the segments were carers, nor stylists.
Still, the fact that they had no control over their appearance and presentation had their mental state withering.
Dottore noticed this. How withdrawn his dear had become. They had their days of silence, yes... but this was more sombre than usual.
He concludes that their illness was flaring up again, and that they were masking their pain instead of consulting with him. He comes to their room of course, his current duties be damned (not that he could've been productive even if he had wanted to, the Segments were restless and shrinking away from their tasks, their darling's current disposition bothered them.)
Opening the door slightly to enter, he sees them blankly staring at their reflection, prodding a finger on their prominent eyebags, rubbing their cheek to see if it would redden.
Ah... how could he had forgotten that. They were once very particular of how they looked. He should have known this possibility, witnessing their own sickly reflection would be distressing...
[The Crow visits a certain Dove. Despite how stiff and vague the Doctor had been with his words, the Damsalette only tittered in understanding, and imparted the knowledge he was seeking.]
The next day, Reader is sat on their vanity, waiting for a Segment to tend to them (always with a little bit of struggle to walk in the morning, but it's the least they could do to be less of an inconvenience already.)
The minutes tick by... he's late. Did something happen?
More time goes by, and they become more worried. They were about to get up and search before the door creaks open.
Zandik...? And he's carrying a... why does he have a bag?
They have plenty of questions. Why the late arrival? What was in the bag? Why was Zandik himself here?
Before they could ask all of this, however, he sets the small bag down on the vanity. He riffles through it... are those make-up brushes?
Wait, make-up?
The next half-hour was spent in stunned silence for Reader's part, Zandik was silent as well out of careful concentration. Gently applying everything, his touch on the brush strokes and blending soft... applying gloss on their lips.
Once Zandik moves on to their hair, they finally catch a glimpse of their reflection. Their cheeks were rosey, the dark circles under their eyes concealed, their lips no longer appearing dry, and instead plump and shimmering.
Oh.
... they almost looked like the way they were before their illness.
Almost.
But it was enough.
(Reader tries so hard not to cry. Fighting back tears, not wanting to ruin the make-up Zandik so diligently applied. Once Zandik was finished with their hair... they may have hiccuped a little bit.)
They may no longer have that upbeat energy they once boasted... but it was comforting to see their old reflection once again. It had been far too long.
You know, I really love this ask because my whole life I've pretty much never used make-up even though I want to so having Dottie do it for me heals me a bit. Also, I'm not very knowledgeable on it so apologies if anything is wrong. Okay, I'm done. 🤏
In all honesty, Dottore was never one to care much for outward looks but he has to admit that you still always manage to look good despite all of the work from school plus all of the work you help with for his experiments, plus... literally everything life throws at you. Yet you still bounce back like it was nothing. The scholar still had not discovered your secret to this yet despite observing you for so long, which furthered his interest in you even though he didn't admit it.
Zandik did maintain his appearance, to an extent of course as he didn't go out of his way to look great, but nothing compared to the effort you put in. So while he did look presentable most of the time, there have been quite a few times you made him late to class because there was no way you were going to let him out looking like that. You don't regret it, even when you get weird looks from the other students. Being 'odd' with your equally as odd lover was nothing to worry about, in your humble opinion.
Although Zandik couldn't hope to understand your strange nature, always mumbling under his breath about you while you laughed at his comments, he also couldn't help but enjoy being around you. You kept him on his toes (your words, not his.)
Unfortunately, this nature and style of yours gradually dissipated into nothing when your illness struck. At first, you refused to accept it, pushing yourself to do what you usually did but soon enough you realized that it simply wasn't going to work out. You had all these tools and resources and options in front of you but you couldn't use them anymore. The self-consciousness only grew more and more each day as you struggled to see yourself as beautiful - struggled to see yourself as a person Dottore would find beautiful.
Of course, your gratitude to the segments couldn't be properly expressed or put into words. You quite literally wouldn't be here without them. However, it is still incredibly demoralizing to be unable to do what you once loved. You really did love them, but... it wasn't enough.
Dottore, despite spending much time in his lab or elsewhere, still kept tabs on you of course. Not just as your doctor, but as your lover, it was important. He had seen you at your lowest numerous times before, comforting you through the worst moments, and he was angered - not at you of course, but rather at himself for being unable to do anything that would be enough for you. Yet he continued, even when you hid yourself from him.
This time, however, maybe the scientist could do a bit more. He doesn't particularly... approve of the Third, or your "friend", but she's far more knowledgeable in this area than he'll ever be. Thankfully, she didn't tease him too much, knowing of your current state.
Dottore had never been one to take much interest in your make-up or style, preferring to simply watch as you worked your magic. So seeing him walk in with make-up makes you think you're still dreaming. (You remember laughing at his segment's various fashion tastes when you woke up though.)
The questions die on your lips the moment he lays everything out and the soft brush tickles your face, not to mention how he's obviously inexperienced yet he's still doing a good job. A part of you aren't surprised because of course he'd be skilled at most things, but still, you thought Celestia would sooner fall on Teyvat than Dottore do your make-up for you. Slowly, you watch as he transforms your face into something that was once dearly familiar.
It's not the same. It may never be. But it's more than enough for you, to revisit the old days that you loved so much. You fear you may cry full-on if you speak, so a simple kiss on your husband's face will have to do.
But regardless of what you look like, no matter how much your body and looks will change, Zandik will always view you as the most beautiful creation on this planet.
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writingrock · 4 months ago
Text
the tale of two lovers [4]
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pairing: barbarian! katsuki bakugou x reader (female) summary: a bard approaches a lone barbarian in search for a story to tell. Who could have known that the barbarian end up being such a romantic tale.
notes: fantasy au, fluff, strangers to lovers, slow burn, bakusquad, barbarian bakugou, violence, mentions of spiritual creatures, mentions of discrimination
word count: 8.3k
part list
part one: chapter list
a/n: we're finally in the damn woods. this part took way longer than needed.
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Despite your frequent clashes with Bakugou, the bond within the group had deepened over time. Each of you had gradually adapted to the others' habits and idiosyncrasies. The journey started off rocky with Bakugou and you locking horns. But this leg of the journey had been surprisingly pleasant, filled with laughter and shared stories that knitted the group closer together. Sure, you and Bakugou bickered now and then, but it never escalated to anything more than heated words— at least, not yet. 
Now, as the group finally reached the last stretch before Niniel’s Veil, a sense of quiet anticipation settled over the camp. Tomorrow, you all would descend into the maddening forest. A place none of you could fully predict or prepare for. All of you are sitting by the campfire, the warmth of the flames cast flickering shadows on your faces. The night was calm, but you could feel the unmistakable worry around the group. Wrapping around each of you like the darkening forest surrounding the camp.
The group huddled close. Low chatter drifted through the night air, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter or a solemn comment about the day ahead. The conversation circled around the forest that awaited them— the cursed thicket known as Niniel’s Veil.
Denki, absently poking at the fire with a stick, broke the silence. “So, anyone else feeling a bit uneasy about tomorrow?” His golden brown eyes focused on the fire, carrying an edge of nervousness.
“Tomorrow’s the big day,” Kirishima replied, his fingers fumbling with the fabric of his tunic. The idle movement showed a small part of his restlessness. He grabbed a stick and poked at the fire alongside Denki, sending a few sparks crackling into the night air. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t. But we’ve faced worse, right? We just need to stick together.” There was a mix of excitement and apprehension in his voice. 
Mina was sitting cross-legged next to you with a thoughtful expression. There’s a pause before she nodded in agreement. “They say the forest shifts and changes its paths. You can go in with a map and still get hopelessly lost. We’ll need to stay sharp.” She shuddered, remembering the tales she’s heard about the Veil.
Denki leaned back against a tree, casually tossing the stick he’d been using to stir the fire aside, letting it roll to a stop near the flames. He let out a heavy sigh as he verbally recounted the horror stories told about the thicket. “And the creatures that live there—supposedly, some of them are more dangerous than anything we’ve faced before.”
Sero grinned and added, “Well, if nothing else, it’ll be one hell of a story to tell. Assuming we make it out of there.” A part of you wondered how Sero could always be so pragmatic. He seemed to be the most relaxed in the group. Or was he simply hiding behind a calm exterior? You couldn’t really tell. 
You looked down at the flickering flames, their light reflecting in your eyes. “It’s not just about surviving,” you said, your tone more serious. “It’s about navigating a place that seems determined to trap us there. We need to be prepared for anything.”
Mina glanced over at you, curiosity sparking in her eyes. “You’ve been through Niniel’s Veil before. Got any advice for us?”
Advice? That wasn’t something you could offer lightly. You hesitated, the weight of your previous journey through the Veil lingering in your mind. After a moment, you spoke slowly, choosing your words carefully.
“Advice isn’t easy to give for a place like that,” you began, eyes flicking to the evening sky as if it might help you find the right way to explain. Squinting at the night sky, focusing on the stars for guidance. “But… Do you guys actually know the story behind Niniel’s Veil?” Slowly, you lowered your head and looked at the group, studying their expressions. 
They exchanged glances, a collective shrug rippling through the group. Denki leaned forward slightly, intrigued, while Kirishima scratched his head. Bakugou, arms crossed, raised an eyebrow. It seemed that the history of the Veil piqued his interest. Though, it wasn’t just him. One by one, they all shook their heads. You could tell everyone was at least slightly interested. 
“Nope,” Denki said, letting out a resigned sigh. “Can’t say I do.”
Kirishima chuckled nervously. “I’ve heard the horror stories, but not much else.”
Bakugou’s eyes looked at you. “I’m guessing it’s more than just some foggy forest, then.”
Mina leaned forward, clearly eager to hear more. “Alright, mapmaker. Lay it on us.”
You leaned forward slightly, the firelight casting shadows across your face as you began to explain. “Niniel’s Veil wasn’t always this mysterious, cursed place. A long time ago, it was home to a powerful elven kingdom. Hidden away deep in these enchanted woods, the elves used their magic to shield themselves from the outside world. But they were… Well, they were elves.” There was a trace of disdain in your voice as you delivered that last part, the words carrying more weight than intended.
The group’s attention was locked on you now, each of them watching as you continued.
“The elves of Niniel didn’t stay within their kingdom. They pillaged and colonised other lands, stealing relics and treasures from the places they conquered. They weren’t satisfied with just wealth— they wanted power. And the more they took, the more they craved. But they were greedy, and greed doesn’t go unchecked forever.”
You paused, glancing around the fire, letting the weight of the story sink in before continuing. “Eventually, their power was usurped. The lands they’d pillaged banded together, turning on the elves. Niniel’s kingdom crumbled. But the elves… they didn’t go quietly. In their final moments, they cursed the very forest they once called home. As revenge, they scattered the stolen relics throughout the woods, using powerful magic to ensure they would never be found or returned to their rightful places.”
Mina’s eyes widened as you spoke, while Denki shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the dark woods surrounding your camp. Even Sero straightened up, leaning in closer to listen to your tale.
“And the forest itself,” you said, your voice lowering slightly, “became part of that curse. The elves wove their magic into the land, warping it. Niniel’s Veil is designed to trap people— to lure them in, twist their sense of direction, and keep them lost. The trees shift, paths disappear, and you see things that aren’t real. It’s a labyrinth, alive with ancient magic, and it wants to keep anyone who dares to enter.”
The fire crackled softly, filling the brief silence that followed. 
“So, let me guess,” Kirishima spoke in a hushed tone. “Those relics are still out there?”
You nodded. “Yep. Hidden throughout the Veil. Some say finding them all could break the curse, but no one’s been able to gather them all. At least, no one who’s made it out.”
Kirishima let out a low whistle, leaning back as the weight of your words sank in. “So, we’re walking into a cursed maze with no guarantee of getting out, huh?”
“You’ve got me, that’s plenty of guarantee,” you said, your voice brimming with confidence as you glanced around the group. A small, reassuring smirk graces your lips. But deep down, you knew the danger that lay ahead.
Denki chuckled nervously, though the unease in his voice was hard to miss. “Yeah, I’m just going to cling to that optimism, because the alternative sounds pretty terrifying.”
Bakugou, who had been quiet up until now, crossed his arms and let out a questioning scoff. His brow raised at your confidence. “Talk’s cheap. You sure you’re up for this?”
You met his stare without hesitation, your voice steady. “I’ve made it through it and mapped that forest. Trust me, I’m ready. The real question is— are you?”
His eyes peered down at you. Why do you keep challenging him? He wants to be mad but he’s amused. By now, he’s gotten used to you provoking him. There’s a faint smirk that threatens to surface, but he very quickly concealed it. “I’m always ready. Don’t slow me down.”
You chuckled, shaking your head. “Slowing you down? You’re more likely to charge ahead and get yourself lost.”
Kirishima laughed from his spot by the fire. “Yeah, maybe stick close this time. We can’t have you lost.”
Bakugou shot him a sharp look, snapping at his friend. “I’ll do what I need to. The Veil won’t stop me.” Kirishima chuckled at his words for he could see there’s no real anger behind that cutting gaze.
“You might want to rethink that,” you said, your tone turning serious. “Niniel’s Veil isn’t exactly forgiving. It’s not just about getting lost; the forest has a way of messing with your mind. It twists paths and shadows, plays tricks on you.”
Bakugou snorted as he leaned back against the rock. “Tch. I’ve faced worse.”
Sero raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Like what?”
“Like dealing with you guys,” Bakugou muttered, finally releasing the smirk he had been holding back.
You caught the exchange with a half-smile, the tension of the upcoming challenge momentarily eased by the banter. Despite the seriousness of the situation, there was a growing sense of unity within the group. Each member brought their own strengths and quirks to the table, and as you prepared for the forest that lay ahead, it was clear that this shared journey had already forged a deeper bond among you.
As the night deepened and the conversation drifted to lighter topics, you couldn’t shake the feeling of anticipation. Tomorrow, the real adventure would begin. Despite the danger that awaited, there was a sense of resolve and readiness in the air.
You watched the fire crackle, the warmth against the chill of the evening offering a small comfort. “We’ll make it through,” you said, trying to inject a bit of confidence into your voice for the group. In truth, you knew how dangerous those woods were. It was hard to say for certain if it would be smooth sailing all the time.
Bakugou huffed, a rare, soft chuckle leaving his lips. “I hope you’re right. I don’t plan on letting a bunch of trees outsmart us.”
As the night wore on, you could feel the suspense building for the journey ahead. The campfire’s warmth was a fleeting solace before the uncertainty of tomorrow. For now though, it was enough to keep the chill of apprehension at bay. Eventually, the conversation dwindled as exhaustion seeped into the group. One by one, your companions bid each other goodnight, surrendering to sleep.
But sleep had evaded you. You lay awake in the darkness, the stillness of the night amplifying the restless thoughts swirling in your mind. Insomnia wasn’t something you usually struggled with— at least, not recently. But tonight, it tightened its grip on you. It was suffocating. You tried to push those thoughts away, but it was easier said than done. With each toss in your bedroll, those plaguing thoughts only grew more persistent.
Out of all nights, it had to be tonight. But it made sense that you couldn’t sleep the night before entering Niniel’s Veil. You knew exactly what that forest meant for you. With a quiet sigh, you slipped out of your sleeping bag. Deciding that perhaps a walk might help. From your experience, a walk did usually help make you sleepier. 
Carefully, you slid your feet into your boots, moving with deliberate quiet. Reaching into your bag, you retrieved three items: a book, one of your quills, and a dagger. Whenever you found yourself unable to sleep, working on some lazy sketches of the scenery helped you unwind and gave you something to focus on. So for you, a book paired with a quill became a staple for your late night walks.
The dagger spoke for itself. You never knew what could jump out in the night. As you prepared for your walk, you took great care to keep your movements as silent as possible, tiptoeing past your sleeping companions. A few of them stirred slightly, but you held your breath, not wanting to disturb their rest. Once you were far enough from camp, you exhaled softly, feeling the tension ease.
Being a cartographer, you knew most areas well. After all, drawing out those maps tended to etch locations into your memory. Especially if you particularly liked the place. As you walked through the forest, you recalled a nearby spot that had always brought you peace. Confident in your sense of direction, you walked through the darkness. Your sight at night being no issue.
The nocturnal world around you stirred as you stepped through the quiet woods, the sounds of night creatures blending with the soft rustle of leaves underfoot. There was a calmness here, a solitude you had always found comforting. As much as you had grown to appreciate the company of your party, you couldn’t deny the pull of the silence.
Perhaps it wasn’t that you preferred being alone, but that you had simply grown accustomed to it. Cartography was a solitary profession, one that few could endure for long. But for you? This is the path chosen for you from the moment you were born. 
Your only true companion on these journeys had been Kyrah, your golden eagle familiar, whose presence had been invaluable in your work— a reliable partner who needed no more than a summons, carrying no extra weight. Kyrah is a familiar you manifested with the help of your father. She aids you in your mapping endeavours. You can seamlessly merge with Kyrah’s vision, often shifting your perspective to hers as she soars above, giving you a bird’s-eye view of the terrain below. Besides that, she’s a silent companion that helps quell the lonely journeys you go on. 
The sound of flowing water reached your ears, and you quickened your pace, heading toward the source. Soon, the sight of a waterfall came into view, illuminated by the soft light of the moon. It wasn’t a grand waterfall, but there was a serene beauty to it, a simplicity that had always drawn you in. You settled down by a rock, the moonlight washing over you as you gazed at the waterfall, its steady flow soothing your restless mind.
The frogs croaked softly in the background as you prepared you to sketch. When you couldn’t sleep, you’d draw. Sometimes, the act of sketching was enough to lull you to sleep— the rhythmic scratch of the quill against paper, the quiet ambiance around you. You opened your book and began to draw, letting the scene before you pull you into its tranquillity.
A sudden snap broke the stillness. Your heart jumped, and you could feel a large presence behind you. What the hell was that? Sure, things might go bump in the night, especially in the forest. But this was different—a heavy snap, the kind of sound only a beast could make. You weren’t about to wait for the beast to strike first. Instinct kicked in as you twisted your upper body. Ready to make the first move, fully expecting to face the threat head on.
You could have sworn you had grabbed your dagger, but instead, you found yourself holding your quill.
And it’s pressing into a rather familiar throat.
Bakugou had leaned in close, his breath warm against your skin, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked down at you. His eyes glinted with amusement, the sharpness in them betraying how much he was enjoying the situation. The distance between you was almost nonexistent, the tension palpable. His Adam's apple bobbed slightly under the quill’s pressure, a subtle reminder of how precarious the moment was. Yet he seemed unfazed, confident even, as if daring you to make the next move.
Bakugou raised an eyebrow at your choice of weapon. A shit-eating smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. You wanted so badly to rub that smirk off. “A quill? Really?” There was a mocking edge to his tone. “You can try, but it won’t do much.”
You narrowed your eyes, clearly unamused by this situation. “Could’ve sworn I had a dagger.”
He responded by waving the dagger in front of your face, the blade catching the light before he dropped it carelessly to the ground. “You mean this one?” his voice dripping with condescension. “You ought to be more aware.” 
You scoffed, pressing the quill harder against his throat, the tip leaving a faint mark of ink on his skin. “What are you doing here?” Your voice was steady, but the rush of adrenaline still coursed through you. As the question left your lips, you retracted the quill and leaned back against the rock, letting your body relax. The immediate sense of danger faded, but the tension between you and Bakugou lingered. 
He didn’t move, his gaze locked on you as he slowly lowered himself onto a nearby rock, keeping a deliberate distance. “I could ask you the same,” he replied, his tone more measured now. “You woke me up. Care to be less noisy?”
He was a light sleeper—not a surprise there. You’ve learnt that during the time you’ve spent with this group. “Could’ve gone back to sleep,” you retorted, your tone dismissive. “What’s your deal?”
Bakugou glared at you, his expression hardening. “My deal? You’re the one sneaking around in the middle of the night, waving a quill like it’s some kind of weapon.”
You let out a short, dry laugh. “You stole my dagger, you imbecile.”
He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “Whatever. So what? You couldn’t sleep, so you decided to wander around and wake everyone up?”
You shrugged, avoiding his eyes as you looked out into the forest. “Just needed to clear my head. Walking helps sometimes.”
“Hmph.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Not the best idea out here, alone.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” you muttered, half to yourself.
There’s a silence falling between you, but it wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. The tension from your earlier confrontation lingered, though it had softened, replaced by something almost... tolerable. It was strange— how the two of you, so different in temperament and approach, could share a moment like this. You never would have expected to be sitting here with him, of all people, in the middle of the night. You studied his profile, the sharp angles of his face softened by the dim light.
Bakugou finally broke the silence, his voice quieter, less abrasive. "You worried about tomorrow?"
You’re caught off guard by the unexpected question. Was he worried too? "A bit. Niniel’s Veil isn’t exactly a stroll in the woods. But you’re all a strong bunch, so... we’ll manage."
He grunted in agreement, his gaze fixed on the darkened trees. "We’d better. There’s no room for mistakes."
You nodded, the weight of his words settling in. There was no room for error in a place like Niniel’s Veil. A pause followed, a moment of silence where neither of you said anything. Perhaps it wasn’t so bad that he was here. You needed to talk to him about the artefact he was searching for. You never did get the specifics. Taking a short breath, you looked at the barbarian.
“This artefact you’re looking for… do you know where it is within the Veil?” you asked, the weight of the question hanging in the air. As their guide, it was crucial you had this information, and you were kicking yourself for not asking sooner. But the right moment had never seemed to come until now. In all fairness, you could blame it on Bakugou. From the beginning, holding a decent conversation with him was nearly impossible— constant arguing, back and forth. Now at least, you’ve both learned to deal with each other.
Bakugou’s eyes flickered to yours, wearing a mask of gruff determination. “I’ve got a lead,” he said, his voice rough but edged with a hint of irritation. “A place deep within the Veil, near the heart of it. But don’t get your hopes up too high. I heard the Veil shifts around like it’s got a personal vendetta against anyone trying to navigate it.” He’s not wrong about the Veil. 
With a deep breath, Bakugou recited the riddle. His tone as if he were delivering bad news:
“In the forest’s heart where shadows loom,
Find the place where night flowers bloom.
Beneath the boughs where moonlight glows,
The artefact rests where the dark wind blows.”
You raised an eyebrow, struggling to stifle a laugh. “Seriously? That’s the hint? Sounds like a poetic way to say ‘good luck.’”
With a frustrated sigh, he squeezed his eyes shut. His hand ran through his hair as he recited the riddle internally. Bakugou didn’t have any other hints besides this riddle. “Better than wandering around aimlessly, right? Just don’t get lost yourself.”
You nodded, understanding the gravity of his words. “We’ll have to be careful then,” you said, your tone matching the seriousness of the situation. “No reckless moves.” You most certainly weren’t referring to a certain blond hothead. 
Bakugou’s eyes snapped back to you, looking rather annoyed. Seems like he’s caught on that you were referring to him. “Tch, don’t tell me what to do,” he barked, his voice edged with irritation. “I don’t need you hovering over me.”
He crossed his arms, clearly not thrilled by your little jab. “You focus on keeping yourself out of trouble. I don’t make reckless moves— I make results.”
Was he offended? You smirked, holding back a laugh. “I’ll be the one pulling your ass out of there when things go south.”
Bakugou’s eyes narrowed, but there was an underlying smirk under that scowl. “Tch. We’ll see about that.”
The exchange lingered in the air, a mix of challenge and mutual respect. Whatever lay ahead in the Veil, you both understood the risks— and neither of you was backing down. Silence settled over the two of you, a comfortable quiet that neither felt the need to disrupt. You returned to your sketch, the soft scratch of your quill against the parchment a calming rhythm. Bakugou, seated beside you, methodically sharpened his scimitar. The metallic scrape of the blade meeting the stone punctuated the night air, creating a soothing harmony with your drawing.
“You don’t like elves,” Bakugou observed, his tone curious but cautious.  His words cut through the quiet, catching your attention. You slowly turn to look at him. He noticed your tone when you were reciting the tale of Niniel’s Veil. He was trying to piece something together. He was curious as to why your tone held such detest for elves. A species that you’re related to by blood. 
“My perspective on elves are complicated,” you replied, your voice steady but held a lining of spite within. “Besides, most of the continent don’t really like elves.”
“Right, but you’re a half-elf,” he pressed, trying to make sense of it. He hadn’t dealt with many elves before, only knowing them by their reputation— proud, conceited, and, in his limited experience, annoyingly uptight. A prudish bunch, as he calls it. But you’re a half-elf, an extension of their kind, so why do you hate them?
You let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. “Most elves hate half-elves, you know,” you said, the weight of the truth heavy in your words. “They call us Biir and N' Tel' Quess.”
The Elvish language slipped smoothly off your tongue, the sharpness of the words hanging in the air between you. The fluency of those words caught Bakugou off guard. He wasn’t used to hearing you speak the language, and even though he didn’t understand the words, he could hear the bitterness beneath them.
Bakugou raised an eyebrow, waiting for the translation.
“Garbage,” you said plainly, meeting his gaze. “And Not-People, that’s how they view us.”
For a moment, there was silence. Bakugou’s expression didn’t soften, but you could see a shift in his eyes. A flicker of understanding, maybe even anger at the idea. Bakugou couldn’t stand hearing that. Most would assume dragonborns were fearsome and overbearing, but in reality, they were often tolerant of all races. Extending their courtesy for even the most despised. For him, this was unacceptable. Sure, Bakugou berated most people who crossed his path, but it was more out of indifference rather than malice. He simply couldn’t be bothered with them. To hate due to blood was foreign to him.
It didn’t make sense to him— judging someone for something they had no control over felt pointless, even absurd. In his eyes, strength, character, and actions were what truly mattered, not the circumstances of one’s birth.
It reminded him of the situation with Mina. Being a tiefling in this world wasn’t easy. The hatred toward her kind stemmed from their demonic ancestry, creating a deep-rooted wave of mistrust and fear. Tieflings were often judged before they even spoke, their horns and eyes marking them as something to be wary of, something dangerous. To be one of the most hated races was a heavy burden, and Mina carried it with a grace that most wouldn’t expect.
“Those stuck-up bastards,” he muttered, his hands tightening into fists. “Calling their own that? Figures.” 
You shrugged, the casualness of your attitude not quite matching the weight of the conversation. “It’s nothing new. That’s just how most of them are. Especially if they've not travelled outside of elven lands.”
Bakugou's eyes darkened, his jaw tightening. “So they just… call you that like it’s nothing?” 
You nodded, a trace of bitterness creeping into your voice. “To them, it’s not a big deal. Half-elves are reminders of what they consider impurity and grief. That our blood is tainted. We don’t fit neatly into their perfect little world.”
The dislike for half-elves is often a complicated mix of prejudice and resentment. You could dive into the history, recite what your father told you growing up, but that would keep you here all night. Half-elves symbolise something uncomfortable: the idea that elves and humans can cohabitate and create something together. To many elves, it’s a bitter reminder that their kind— whom they see as superior— could stoop so low as to bed a human, a race they often view as fleeting and inferior.
But the resentment runs deeper than just arrogance. Elves live for centuries, and their ability to reproduce is rare and sacred. Their culture involves tight-knit communities and communal child-rearing, with children being raised by the collective village or family over generations. Half-elves, however, live only slightly longer than humans, which more often than not, means the elven parent suffers.
The elven parent must watch their human spouse and child age and die before they've even reached the prime of their own life, by elven standards. For every half-elf born, there’s an elven parent who will grieve long after their family has turned to dust. To them, half-elf serves as living proof that bonding with other races, no matter how deep the connection, is temporary— and that loss comes far too soon.
So while some elves can look past it, seeing half-elves as a bridge between worlds rather than crude blood. Others see the inevitable grief, the reminder that friendship— and love— across races comes at a cost that some are not willing to pay.
Bakugou grumbles under his breath, the disdain clear in his tone now. “What a bunch of self-righteous assholes. Fucking hell.”
You couldn't help but chuckle softly at his bluntness. “Yeah, well, most of them are. It’s a complicated issue but it doesn’t excuse their treatment towards us. ” You take a deep breath from this conversation, continuing quietly. “But I don’t let it bother me. There are still a good bunch of elves that don’t have that terrible view.”
Bakugou grunted, crossing his arms. “Tch. Still doesn’t sit right with me. Doesn’t matter if it’s a few or most— people who think they’re better than everyone else just because of blood? Sounds like a load of crap.”
“Agreed,” you nodded, a hint of a smile tugging at your lips. “But it’s not that simple. Some of those elves are deeply entrenched in their ways, raised to believe they’re the highest form of existence. They don’t even see it as arrogance— they see it as fact.”
Bakugou's expression hardened, a flicker of anger flashing in his eyes. “Fact or not, I think they deserve a reality check just for using those words.” 
You gave him a small, appreciative smile. “Trust me, I’ve handed out a few of those in my time.”
Bakugou smirked at that, the familiar edge of his cockiness creeping back. “Good. ‘Cause if they try pulling that shit while I’m around, they’ll get their ass handed to them.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “I can imagine. But you’d be surprised— some of the elves that look down on half-elves would probably never confront you openly. It’s all under-the-surface jabs, subtle insults. They’re too proud to start a fight.”
Bakugou’s smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with challenge. “I’m good at starting fights when it’s needed. And ending them.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” you said with a grin. If there’s one thing Bakugou can do, it’s fight. “But like I said, not all of them are bad. Some have moved past those old prejudices. It’s just… a slow change. Too slow, honestly.”
He glanced at you, his expression softening slightly, though his usual fire was still there. “Well, whatever they think, they’re wrong. You’re better than all of ‘em.”
You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. For a moment, the weight of his words hung between you, and it felt more real than anything you had expected from Bakugou. You smiled softly, your tone quiet but genuine. “Thanks..”
Bakugou shifted awkwardly, clearly not used to moments like this. He grunted, scratching the back of his neck as if trying to brush off the vulnerability that had slipped through. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”
You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “Right. Wouldn’t want to ruin your tough guy act.”
After a few moments, Bakugou shifted in his seat, the sound of his movements breaking the silence. He stood up, brushing off his pants with an unceremonious gesture. “Get some sleep,” he grumbled, his tone carrying a rare hint of concern. “We’ll need everyone sharp tomorrow.”
You nodded, pushing your sketchbook aside. “Fair point.” You began packing away your sketching supplies. “I’ll hit the hay. Just try not to snore too loudly. Some of us actually need our rest.”
Bakugou’s eyes narrowed playfully. “As if you’re one to talk. I’ve heard the way you mumble in your sleep.”
With that, the two of you headed back toward the camp. The mood was lighter, though it was more than just a shared understanding of the challenge ahead. Your relationship with Bakugou was more akin to a "strained alliance," an uneasy truce bound by necessity rather than genuine rapport.
But you can’t lie, you’re almost starting not to mind him as much. Bakugou’s not that bad. Especially after you opened up about your experience with elves. It was rather warming to see him care. As you both settled back into your respective spots, the night took on a lighter tone, if only slightly. 
The tavern was a far cry from the stillness of that night, but the firelight flickering against the walls reminded Bakugou of the campfires they had shared deep in the forest. He leans back in his chair, his scowl softening as the bard, a curious sort with an annoying penchant for digging into people’s thoughts, strummed a gentle tune on his lute. The tavern was buzzing with quiet conversation, but the bard’s attention was squarely on Bakugou, eyes gleaming with interest.
“It sounds like you and your companion have had quite the journey.”  the bard said, his fingers deftly dancing across the strings. 
Bakugou leaned back, crossing his arms, a hint of annoyance flashing in his eyes as he regarded the bard. “Yeah, well, it was a rough ride, but we’ve managed. Gotten used to each other’s ways, I guess.”
The bard’s eyes shined with mischief. “Oh? From what I hearing, it sounded like you two have grown quite close. Almost like... friends, dare I say?”
Bakugou’s scowl deepened, though a hint of a smirk almost could be seen. The bard wasn’t exactly wrong but he wasn’t going to admit that. “Don’t get any funny ideas. We’ve had our share of disagreements. It’s more like we’ve learned to tolerate each other at that point.”
The bard chuckled, clearly enjoying Bakugou’s discomfort. “Tolerate, you say? Sounds like there’s more to it than meets the eye.”
Bakugou’s gaze drifted to the fire, his thoughts returning to the journey. The memory of the initial tension with you was still fresh in his mind. It’s a shocking contrast to the relationship you both now had developed. He remembered the bickering and stubborn clashes, the way you both were constantly at each other's necks. But the forced cooperation in the face of danger and necessity, had brought the two of you closer. Close enough to know there was more beneath the surface than either let on. And close enough to know that both of you were skilled in your own ways.
“She’s smart, I’ll give her that,” Bakugou continues, his gaze shifting to the other end of the tavern. As if he could still see her sitting across from him, sketching with that damn quill of hers. “Knows her stuff. More than I expected, to be honest. Thought she’d be dead weight, but… she pulled her own.”
The bard’s fingers pause on the strings, catching the slight shift in Bakugou’s tone. “Sounds like she earned your respect.”
Bakugou huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. Recalling how he felt about you back then, the urge to strangle you was definitely still present but was subdued with some sort of acknowledgement that you weren't useless. “Respect’s a strong word. She’s competent, that’s all. Doesn’t take shit from anyone, and I could respect that much. But she was also a pain in the ass. Always has to have the last word, always poking where she shouldn’t.”
“She was not what I expected. That’s all. She’s got guts. But the Veil—” He trails off, his thoughts drifting to the dense, dangerous forest. “The Veil isn’t a place for anyone who isn’t serious. She’s not just a mapmaker. She’s… stubborn. Determined. Like she had something to prove.”
“Well then,” the bard asks, his voice softer now. “Did she prove it?”
Did you prove yourself? Bakugou leans back in his chair, his mind drifting to the treacherous journey through Niniel’s Veil. The tales weren’t just stories; they were warnings wrapped in the guise of myths. The forest was alive in its own eerie way, shifting and twisting the paths like a serpent coiling around its prey. One moment, a well-trodden trail would be beneath their feet, and the next, it would vanish, swallowed by the creeping undergrowth, leaving only an expanse of unfamiliar trees.
The canopy overhead was dense, allowing slivers of light to filter through, but it was never enough to guide the way. The forest itself seemed to breathe, each exhale rearranging the landscape, turning known routes into mazes. More than once, they found themselves doubling back, only to be confronted by a landscape that had entirely changed. It was a place designed to ensnare even the most experienced adventurers, to make them doubt their every step.
But you— well, you were the wild card. The mapmaker who had spent years navigating the labyrinthine trails of Niniel’s Veil, sketching its hidden secrets and charting its treacherous paths. 
The moment the group stepped into the forest, it was as if the air itself shifted. The dense canopy overhead seemed to close in, casting an ethereal glow that made the forest feel alive, almost sentient. The ancient trees whispered secrets with every rustle of their leaves. The ground beneath was a patchwork of shadow and light, where every step seemed to echo with a haunting resonance. The forest was beautiful in a way that was both mesmerising and unnerving. Its beauty tainted by an ever-present sense of foreboding.
Bakugou had learned the hard way that these woods weren’t just any ordinary enchanted forest. They were alive. The moment the group entered the Veil, you took the lead cautiously, moving slower than usual. You would stop now and then, listening carefully, scanning the trees for any signs of change. But Bakugou didn't get it. He was growing irritated, impatience festering with each step. To him, it felt like you were wasting time.
“You’re taking too long,” he muttered, frustration clear in his voice as you paused once again to survey the surroundings. This felt like a familiar conversation. 
You shot him a look over your shoulder, keeping your voice low. “There’s a reason we’re moving carefully. This forest isn’t what it seems. Don’t rush ahead.”
Bakugou’s scowl deepened. “You’re being too slow. We’ll never get anywhere at this pace.” It’s almost as if he’s said these words before.
 
You sighed, feeling his impatience radiating off him in waves. “This isn’t about speed. If you push too far ahead, you’ll—”
“Whatever,” Bakugou cut you off, stepping forward, brushing past you. “We don’t have time for this.” He marched ahead, determined to lead, his movements quick and brash.
You watched him go, letting out a frustrated breath but deciding not to stop him. Fine, you thought. If he wanted to lead, let him. He’d figure it out soon enough. 
The group followed Bakugou as he charged forward, the dense trees swallowing them up in winding paths that twisted and turned unexpectedly. The deeper you went, the more the forest seemed to close in, the air growing thicker, the sounds of birds and insects fading into an eerie quiet. 
Bakugou’s frustration only grew as the terrain became more difficult to navigate. What had seemed like a straightforward path quickly revealed itself to be a maze of dense underbrush and looping trails. He stopped abruptly, looking around as if trying to piece together where he had gone wrong, his jaw clenched tight.
 
“Tch,” he growled, his hands tightening into fists. What the hell is this? His head swung around at the environment, scanning the area. “This doesn’t make sense.”
You hung back, casually following along with no rush. Your expression calm despite the increasingly tense atmosphere. You had known this would happen. The forest was designed to confuse those who didn’t understand its nature, and Bakugou, with all his confidence, was falling right into its trap. 
“Having fun up there?” you called out, unable to resist a smirk as Bakugou’s head whipped around to glare at you. 
“Shut up,” he snapped. “This damn forest keeps twisting around.”
“Imagine that,” you said dryly, still not speeding up. “It’s almost like there was a reason I told you to slow down.”
Bakugou huffed, visibly irritated but too stubborn to admit he was lost. His eyes darted around the trees, looking for anything familiar, but the forest had swallowed up any trace of the path you had entered on. His frustration grew with every step.
“Keep going,” you said casually, still following at a distance. “I’m sure we’re almost there.” 
Bakugou shot you a withering glare, knowing full well that you were letting him stew in his own mess. “Don’t think this is funny.”
“I don’t,” you said, trying to hide the amusement in your tone. “But maybe next time, you’ll think twice before charging ahead.”
Bakugou was visibly agitated now, his annoyance clear in every sharp movement and muttered curse under his breath. The deeper he ventured, the more disorienting the forest became. The trees seemed to close in tighter, their branches tangling above like a web that blocked out the sun. The path— if you could even call it that— had long disappeared into the twisting undergrowth. Every direction looked the same, and Bakugou could swear that no matter which way he turned, they weren’t making any progress. It was as if the forest itself was looping endlessly.
His frustration mounted as he realised he couldn’t find anything that might resemble an exit. But the only thing that greeted him was the endless stretch of green. He stopped abruptly, trying to figure out where he had gone wrong.
“This is ridiculous,” he muttered, kicking at a nearby rock before turning back toward you. You were still a few paces behind, walking leisurely as if the forest’s tricks didn’t bother you in the slightest. It grated on his nerves even more.
He finally snapped. “Alright, fine. Take over.” His tone could barely contain his frustration. “You’re the one who thinks you know this place.”
You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms casually. “Only if you admit you were wrong.”
That ticked him off immediately. Bakugou’s eyes narrowed, the refusal already forming on his lips. “What?”
“Simple,” you said, a small smirk playing on your face. “Admit you messed up, and apologise for not listening. Then, I’ll get us out of here.”
Bakugou’s jaw tightened, his pride practically oozing out of him as he struggled to keep his temper in check. “Like hell I’m apologising,” he growled. “We’re in this mess because we’re moving too damn slow, not because of me.”
You shrugged, unbothered by his anger. “Alright, then keep going. I’m sure we’ll find a way out… eventually.” You glanced around the dense forest with a mocking innocence, as if the overgrown labyrinth wasn’t a problem at all. “Or not.”
Bakugou’s knuckles grew white, his frustration reaching its peak. He turned away, muttering curses under his breath, refusing to give in. But with each step, the forest only seemed to become more twisted, the trees looming larger, the path disappearing further into the shadows.
After a few more agonising minutes, he stopped again, exasperation etched across his face. He glanced over his shoulder at you, the words sticking in his throat.
You raised an eyebrow, waiting.
Bakugou gritted his teeth, his voice a low growl. “Fine. I was wrong.”
You tilted your head, pretending not to hear. “Sorry, what was that?”
He shot you a glare so sharp it could’ve cut through the trees. “I said I was wrong. Now, will you stop screwing around and get us out of here?”
You smiled, finally stepping forward to take the lead. “Was that so hard?” you teased, earning another growl from Bakugou. But this time, he stayed silent, begrudgingly following as you began to lead them out of the forest’s confusing maze.
“Don’t worry,” you added over your shoulder, still wearing that smug grin. If you weren’t the guide, he might have wiped that grin off with a punch. “Next time, you can leave the leading to me.”
Your last words grinded his gears. Bakugou clenched his jaw tight as if physically restraining himself from barking back. He could’ve sworn he was going to snap you in half right then and there, but he held back. As infuriating as you were, a nagging realisation settled in his mind: they were lucky you had tagged along. Begrudgingly lucky, but lucky all the same.
You paused for a moment, surveying the dense woods with a practised eye, before you began guiding the group through with an effortless ease that made Bakugou’s earlier confidence seem laughable. 
Somehow— and Bakugou still couldn’t wrap his head around it— you led the group to a completely different section of the forest. It wasn’t long before the forest’s suffocating maze seemed to lift, and the trees thinned. Bakugou watched as the scenery changed in disbelief. Unable to figure out how you’d managed to navigate a forest that had him twisted in circles. You just had to be a smart ass didn’t you? 
The air felt lighter here, the trees taller and less oppressive. The sunlight trickled through the branches in a way that felt oddly peaceful. It was as if you had simply known the right path all along, and Bakugou couldn’t deny that it both impressed and annoyed him.
“You got the forest in your head or something?” he grumbled as they walked, trying to mask his grudging respect with irritation. “Or just dumb luck?”
You shot him a sidelong glance, an amused smirk plastered on your mouth. “Nah. Some of us just pay attention.”
“Tch,” Bakugou scoffed, folding his arms. “Like I don’t pay attention.”
“Not to the right things, apparently,” you teased, your voice light with sarcasm. “But hey, can’t blame you for getting lost. It happens when you’re too busy charging ahead.”
Bakugou’s eye twitched, his pride bruised, but he refused to let you have the last word. “Yeah, well, next time, don’t take so damn long, and maybe I won’t have to charge ahead.”
You chuckled, enjoying the banter far more than you should. “Or maybe next time, you can just trust me from the start and save yourself the headache.”
Bakugou shot you a glare, the fire still in his eyes, but there was no real heat behind it. “Trust? You?” He huffed, shaking his head. “You wish.”
“Come on, you know I’m right,” you said, grinning. “If I didn’t bail you out, you’d probably still be wandering around in circles.”
Bakugou’s jaw tightened again. He wasn’t going to admit to that. “I’ll get it next time,” he growled, his voice low. “Give me a day and I’ll figure it out.”
“Right,” you replied with a chuckle. “Like how you ‘figured out’ the forest back there?”
He was tempted to send a fireball flying your way. “Shut up.” But deep down, he couldn’t deny the truth of your words. You had saved them time, even if it bruised his ego to admit it. Bakugou might not like relying on anyone, but he knew now that you weren’t just dead weight on this journey. Even if he didn’t say it out loud.
“Well,” you said after a moment, glancing at him with a smirk. “Apology accepted.”
Bakugou glared at you, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You’re pushing it.”
You laughed again, and for a brief second, even Bakugou couldn’t help the slight curve of a smile that tugged at his lips, though it was gone as quickly as it came. Despite his frustration, Bakugou couldn’t deny that you had proven yourself. Maybe, just maybe, there was something to be said for listening to you every once in a while. Only maybe. 
You weren’t the only one who had to prove themselves on this journey. Bakugou, despite his rough exterior and temper, had shown you that he was far more than some brash barbarian. When it mattered, he actually listened to you. You remembered how shocked you were when he considered your advice for the first time. That alone was impressive, though not entirely surprising. You have always known that he had a sharp mind behind those fiery eyes. He was someone who knew when to comply for the sake of the mission. But what did catch you off guard was how unexpectedly soft he could be.
Bakugou was guarded, always projecting an imposing figure, a man who never let his guard down. But you noticed the small moments when that armour cracked. In the way he bantered with his friends, how his laughter turned genuine when he was with them. He wasn’t just their leader; he was their friend. No matter how many times he’s complained about needing to take care of such a hopeless bunch. He truly cared.
You saw it when Sero got scratched by a dryad— Bakugou had lunged in without a second thought, his only concern being his friend’s safety. Afterwards, he chewed Sero out for being careless. And when Kirishima had tripped and hit the ground hard, Bakugou was the first to reach him, his hand outstretched, his voice stiffened with concern. Admittedly, he also made fun of his dragonborn companion for tripping but there was warmth in it. His care always came with a bite. 
There was a softness to him, a deep-seated loyalty and care for his companions that he kept hidden beneath layers of bravado and aggression. It’s as if his tough facade sometimes melts away in their presence, revealing a side of him that’s rarely seen. It was something you hadn’t expected from him, and it left you wondering just how much more there was to Katsuki Bakugou than what he let on. 
This softer side of Bakugou was revealed in the midst of battle. As you fought off a group of thorn wolves, you found yourself preoccupied with one particularly vicious beast. Your focus was on fending off the thorn wolves in front of you, but a sudden growl from behind warned you of a new threat. 
Before you could react, Bakugou’s figure appeared, crashing into the fray. His greatsword swung at the thorn wolf. Sending the wolf sprawling before he then turned to face you. 
“Watch your back!” he snapped, his tone was clearly irritated with you. But there was something softer underneath. 
You glared at him. Fine, he saved the skin of your back right there but you rather not be indebted to him. You probably could have handled it. “I had it under control.”
Bakugou huffed, eyes flashing with annoyance. “What did you say about us being in over our heads in this again?” 
You raised an eyebrow, dodging another swipe from a thorn wolf. Did he really remember your words from the first meeting? “Didn’t realise you were so invested in proving me wrong.”
He let out a grunt. His expression remained focused on the fight, but there was a glint of something like amusement— or was it satisfaction?— in his eyes. “Just trying to keep you from getting yourself killed. We need you to get us out of this mess.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound mingling with the chaos of the battle. “Good to know you care.”
Bakugou snorted, shoving another wolf away. “I don’t care about you.”
You nodded, falling back into the rhythm of the fight, Bakugou's presence a reassuringly fierce force at your side. Even amidst the danger, his unexpected softness was a reminder that there was more to him than met the eye. While you’d always been confident in your own abilities, it was oddly reassuring to know that he’d be there, watching your six, just as you’d be watching his.
After the fight, the group busied themselves with tending to the light scratches and wounds they’d sustained. The injuries were minor, nothing that wouldn’t heal in a few days. Especially with your healing hands. You leaned against a tree, studying the compass in your hands, trying to keep your focus off the persistent, prickly sensation of being watched.
When you finally looked up, you found Bakugou’s gaze locked on you. It wasn’t the kind of stare that made you uncomfortable— he wasn’t leering. Instead, his eyes were sharp and focused, scanning your body with a meticulous intensity. It was clear he was checking you for any signs of injury, a gesture that was surprisingly thoughtful coming from him.
“Worried?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. 
Bakugou’s face flushed slightly, his irritation evident as he snapped his attention away from you and back to the rest of the group. “As if.” he huffed, his tone gruff but carrying a hint of something softer underneath. 
You watched him retreat into his usual brusque demeanour, a faint smile tugging at your lips. It seemed like he had his own way of showing concern, and as much as he tried to hide it. The journey was far from over, and the Veil still held its secrets. But in that moment, you understood him a little better. Whatever lay ahead, you’d face it together, even if you had to drag Bakugou kicking and screaming the whole way.
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a/n: personally, i loved the lil midnight chat with bakugou wbu? @chocogoldie @l0kisbitch @devils-adversary @miikii0 @onlyisaa @sleepisfortheweakpooh
border credits: @/enchanthings & @/adornedwithlight
© writingrock 2024 do not copy, translate or repost.
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nieshiren · 2 years ago
Text
Eywa has decided
Recom Quaritch x Na’vi fem reader
Synopsis: After Quaritch and his team were sent on their first mission, they haven’t found anything. Besides Quaritch’s remains, he and his blue team decided to spend the night in the forest. While his team is asleep Quaritch wanders deeper into the forest, where he finds Y/N in heat
Warnings: Strong language, mature themes, smut, oral, loss of virginity, pet names, kind of ABO?
Words: 3962
Part 2
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‘Alright guys, lets camp out here for tonight.’ Said Quaritch.
After being send on their first mission and not finding anything. Besides Quaritch’s remains, he and his blue team decided to spend the night in the forest. Quaritch felt like shit, he wasn’t the man whose skull he had crushed. He had his memories yes, but he was not him. He felt so different, it was like the forest was calling to him. And this mission? It didn’t sit right with him, the more he thought about it the more he understood Sully and his decision to fight for pandora. After setting his foot in the forest in his new avatar body something felt different. He felt at home, he never really felt like that before. At least that is what he remembered form old Quaritch, that man was bitter, nothing but hate fuelled his body.
‘I will take the first watch.’ He said, as the rest got ready to sleep. He walked around, the ground lighting up underneath his bear feet. Wearing hit combat boots felt unnatural to him, he wanted to feel the forest floor on his bare feet. To his team, he told some stupid story of how they must become like na’vi in order to succeed on this mission and they believed him. And even if they didn’t, he was their colonel, so they didn’t dare to say anything.
Something filled his nose. The smell, it made hie ears twitch and his tail to swish around. He has been smelling it the whole time since they got the forest. But it was getting stronger by the minute, making his body itch. He wanted to go look for the source. But he had to wait until his blue team was asleep.  
‘Y/N, catch!’ Spider shouted, she turned to him just in time to catch the fish he threw her way.
‘Look at you go! just like a proper Na’vi!’ she smiled at him. She has taken a few children into the forest, to pick some fruits and catch fish, while their parents were out on a mission with Olo'eyktan. Y/N wasn’t a warrior like Neytiri, sure she could hunt, all na’vi knew how to hunt, but fighting battles against sky people just wasn’t for her. Eywa had other plans for her, she was plumper then some other Na’vi women, she was a teacher and a second mother to many na’vi children. She adored children; however, she didn’t have any of her own yet because she wasn’t mated. Most of her time was spend teaching children how to fish, when to pick certain fruit, which animals were friendly, all the basics they needed to survive on pandora.
There was one child in particular she loved very much. Spider. The monkey boy, that had no parents, left behind on Pandora, always running after Sully’s kids. Spider loved her as well, he genuinely saw her as a mother figure. She took him in when he was 8, the scientists couldn’t keep up with him, he always ran away, and they had important jobs to do. Not just run around the forest looking for a child. He would always find a way to escape the lab, and so she decided to be his caretaker.  
‘Tinut, not the green ones, those are not ripe yet.’ Y/N said as she walked past Ninat’s child. Tinut smiled at her and reached for a purple one instead. ‘Yes, that’s better.’ Y/N smiled. She was feeling restless today. Waking up early, before everyone else. He skin felt too tight for an own body.
‘Y/N, why don’t you have a mate?’ Asked Tuk. Tuk loved asking question and Y/N loved answering them. Tuk was just as curious as her dad.
‘I haven’t found one yet my dear.’ She said, petting her head. Most Na’vi Y/N’s age were already mated, starting families and living happy lives. Y/N was a little unlucky, but she never doubted Eywa and her plans for her. She knew that somewhere there was a prefect mate waiting just for her, and she would know when she smelled them.  
‘Maybe your nose is broken.’ Chuckled Tuk. ‘Maybe.’ Nodded Y/N.`
‘Spider, baby, go to bed.’ Y/N said, stroking his head. He looked up at her and smiled, eyes full of love.
‘Can you tell me another story, mama?’ she smiled, he only called her that when they were alone, not wanting other Na’vi to hear.
‘Not tonight darling. I’m going out to fly with Ra’i.’ She spoke.
‘But Jake said we are not supposed to leave after the eclipse, especially not alone.’ He said, worry in his eyes.
‘I know darling, but Eywa is calling me, I can feel it. I need to fly. You know I know the forest like the back of my hand.’ She said, convincing him.
‘Alright, be careful.’
‘I will. Just don’t tell anyone okay?’ he nodded, while she got up.
‘Good night baby.’ Se hugged him and left their tent. Quickly getting to her Ikran and leaving their hideout in the hallelujah mountains.
As she flew through the sky her nose was filled with a delicious scent. It felt so familiar, if felt like home. And yet it was a very exiting smell, making shivers run down her spine, her ears twitching. Her heart was beating fast as she flew on Ra’i’s back. She followed her nose down to the frost, the scent was getting stronger and stronger. Soon she got of Ra’i, leaving her sitting on a thick branch in a tree. She slowly jumped down, landing on the soft forest floor. Everything she touched lit up, she smiled, her tail swishing behind her. She was absolutely in love with the forest.
While she walked deeper into the forest, her face was getting hot. She stopped, confused, touching her forehead. Feeling how hot she was getting. Her skin was covered is sweat, hands shaking, the scent filler her nose once more, she could almost taste is. It was sweet but spicy, prickling on her tongue. Her whole body shook, he eyes widening.
‘Mate!’ she gasped. Could it really be? Was she really smelling her mate? Did Eywa finally find her the right one? Her breath quickened even more; the sound of her heart filled her ears. She couldn’t keep walking. Was she in heat already? Just by smelling her mate. She wasn’t entirely sure, as she warped her tail around her own thigh. She felt the slick that started dripping from her core. Whimpering, she sat down by a tree. Pressing her back against the cool bark.
‘Mate...’ she called softly. Hoping he would find her as her state was getting worse. She felt like her whole body was on fire, limbs shaking uncontrollably.
As Quaritch walked deeper and deeper into the frost, his body was getting hotter. Soon he got rid of his vest with all his grudges and his gun. Not even for a second did he think he would need them. He continued walking, breathing hard, he discarded of his tank top as well. He felt like his skin was on fire, even when the temperature dropped during the evening. Suddenly he heard a whimper, his ears twitched as he jumped over a branch, walking faster.
‘who’s there?’ he called out in English. Franticly looking around, trying the find the source of distress.
‘Mate!’ he heard a female voice cry in Na’vi. He had no clue what she said, but hearing her cries made him worry. His natural instinct to protect took over his body. And that’s when he spotted her. She was leaning against a tree, head back, panting.
His ears fell back, he felt an electric wave ripple through his body. She looked ethereal to him, like a goddess, waiting to devourer his soul. Her chest was rising rapidly, only a few neckless covered her round breasts. He slowed down, not wanting to scare her. Even though his body was screaming at him, to move, to get to her, to make her his, to protect her. He bit his lower lip to silence the deep breaths he was taking.
‘Are you okay? Princess?’ he spoke, just 3 meters away from her. Quickly her head whipped towards him, her yellow gaze piercing through him. For a second, she was surprised he didn’t speak Na’vi. He slowly took a step closer. She didn’t flinch, she wasn’t trying to get away from him. Her eyes didn’t leave his for a second, it was as if she was trying to read his mind, learn who he was just through his eyes. The air around them was intoxicating, Quaritch couldn’t stay away from her, it seemed like her body was calling him. So, he took one more step, getting on his knees in front of her.
‘Mate.’ She repeated in English now. She knew how to speak English, Grace thought her well. Quaritch felt his heart in his throat upon hearing her calling him mate. He wasn’t sure what it meant yet, but he definitely wanted to find out.  She stared at him, noticing his clipped ears, she frowned. Who would do that to him? She didn’t dwell on in for too long since her heat has clouded her mind. She knew he was an avatar, his shoulders wider then any na’vi men. Her eyes followed the curve of his arms, his giant biceps, down to his hands. Five fingers. She bit her lip. She didn’t care that he wasn’t Na’vi, he was her mate. He was the one Eywa chose, and she will love him with every bit of her being no matter what. And so will he even if he had no idea yet.
‘I won’t hurt you.’ he said softly, lifting his hands into the air to show he was not holding a weapon. He wasn’t sure what took over him, all his training was forgotten. All he wanted was to get as close to her as she would let him. Nothing else matter to him. She smiled, she new he wouldn’t hurt her. Eywa decided their fait and brought them together. She trusted her wholeheartedly.
‘I know.’ She said voice shaky, she lifted her back, inching closer to him. Her heat was raging through her body, she wanted him desperately. But she knew she couldn’t rush their first meeting. There will be enough time to mate. He cocked his head, confused his ears stood up.
‘How do you know?’ He asked, frozen in place. The fire in his chest was growing by the minute. He never felt like this before, it was as If his own skin was too tight for his body. And only she could somehow safe him. She was so close to him; he couldn’t practically taste her. Her scent was floral and crisp, clinging to his body.  
‘Because you are my mate.’ She explained, taking his hand and placing it on her heart. He could feel how fast it was beating, her skin was hot. He wanted to feel every inch of her body underneath his fingers.
‘I felt it here, that you were close. I could smell you.’ she said, he nodded. He as well has been following his nose, and this weird pull in his chest that led him to her. She smiled brightly at the fact that he felt the same. She put her own hand on his heart. Four fingers touching his shiny skin. His chest swelled with pride; this was his mate? This beautiful goddess, with wavy black hair that fell on her shoulders. Big bright eyes, and the most beautiful smile he has ever seen? It brought him extreme joy. He longed for her, he wanted to explore every little dot on her body, every freckle, every stripe of dark blue.
‘I’m Y/N L/N.’ she spoke, her hand still on his chest, feeling his hard muscles. She felt his heartbeat pick up even more. Y/N that name will be forever engraved into his soul.
‘I’m…’ he looked away, as if he was scared to tell her. She frowned, putting her other hand on his chin, lifting his gaze back up to her.
‘Miles…. Miles Quaritch.’ He breath heavily. His eyes filled with fear, pain and regret. She was shocked, but seeing all those emotions behind his eyes, she knew there was much more to his story then just the bad things she has heard. She knew that once they form a Tsaheylu she will understand everything.
‘Don’t worry.’ She smiled, ‘Eywa has decided.’ Her hands slid around his neck, and she pulled him into a kiss. He wasn’t strong enough to resist her. He felt every bit of his doubt leave his body, at least for now.
His body pressed against hers, as he pushed her against the tree. He deepened the kiss, parting his lips and slowly pushing his tongue in. She was moaning already, desperate for more. She waited so long for the prefect mate, and now that he was here, she couldn’t hold back.
‘Queue, give me…’ she said between kisses. He held her face in his hands, packing her lips lightly. He couldn’t believe what he has found deep in the forest. His whole body was filled with love, and hope and everything good. Not a drop of worry was left in him, he knew that with her by his side he could be finally happy.
‘Your braid.’ She repeated. He reached back a gave it to her. At the same time, she reached for hers.
‘Now we will from a bond, Tsaheylu.’ She explained, he just nodded. Waiting for what was to come. He knew na’vi used their braids for bonding with animals, but her wasn’t sure what would happened once they bond together.
‘We will be mated for life.’ She looked into his eyes, searching for hesitation of uncertainty. There was non, he was ready to give up everything for her, and so she held the ends of their Queues together. Slowly they tangled together, and both were hit with an electric shock. They hugged tightly, feeling every emotion, every memory that has ever passed through their bodies. They were one, Y/N felt everything Quaritch was experienced, she understood how he came back. She learned everything about him in just a matter of seconds. And so did he about her, he saw all the love she had, for him, for the kids of her tribe. All the longing and loneliness she felt all those years waiting for her mate.
‘I love you.’ he said, pulling her into another heated kiss. He was extremely overwhelmed, all he needed was her. Her heat and the bond were making his lose his mind.
‘Oel ngati kameie.’ She spoke. Quaritch kissed her neck, where her scent was the strongest. He licked and nipped at his skin. Pressing his face into it, he repeated ‘Oel ngati kameie.’ She smiled, tears filling her eyes. She wished for this moment to last forever.
‘Take me.’ she whimpered as he whipped away her happy tears. His hands slid down to her hips, he pulled her down. Lowering her into the soft grass slowly. Soon he was pushing her necklaces up, he uncovered her beautiful breasts. He just looked at them for a second, they were round, the nipples were slightly darker blue. He couldn’t help but touch them, swiping his thumbs over them both. Y/N whimpered, trembling.
‘Miles...’ She bit her lip, showing her cute fangs. His mouth was watering at the sight of her, almost naked, moaning his name. He took one nipple into his mouth, rolling his tongue over it. Y/N gripped his shoulders.
‘Fuck baby girl. You are so gorgeous.’ He whispered, licking over a nipple once more, before moving to the other one. He was kneeling between her legs; her hips were moving looking for friction while he sucked on her breasts.
‘I need you...’ she cried; head tipped back. He pressed his knee against her core. She gasped, digging her nails into her shoulders. He loved it, every little reaction she was giving him. She was falling apart in his hands, and she couldn’t be happier. He could feel how aroused she was, the bond revealed all her secrets to him.
‘Such a needy girl.’ He almost purred, pushing his thigh against her core. She was so wet, soaking through her loincloth and his cargo pants.
‘Please.’ She whimpered once more, grinding her hips faster. It felt like torture, she needed him to fill her up. To end the ache, she was feeling in her belly. To fill the void, she felt since she was old enough to mate. Oh, but how he loved seeing her fall apart underneath him.
Quickly he took off her loincloth. Revelling her wet pussy, it was blue like the rest of her skin. Slowly his fingers slid over her lips, pushing them open. Her core was more purple them blue, dripping wet waiting just for him. Her legs were shaking with anticipation, she looked down at him.
With eyes full of lust, he asked, ‘all this just for me?’ she nodded, her cheeks getting even hotter. If that was even possible at this point. He couldn’t wait any longer.
First, he kissed her soft belly, she held her breath. Gripping her thighs with both of his large hands, he pushed them apart even more. Slowly kissing lower and lower. Finally giving her clit a soft kiss. Y/N gasped; words stuck in her throat. She wanted to tell him how much she needed him, how much she ached for him. But she also wanted to saviour every second spent with him. He dipped his tongue between her folds, teasing her sweet nectar. His pupils widened, never in his life has he tasted something this good.
‘Miles.’ She cried, gripping his hair. He pushed her leg over his shoulder, allowing him more excess into her throbbing opening. It was leaking so much slick, her heat made her so ready for him. He clouding stop lapping up all her juices. All she could do was moan and take it.
‘Mine…’ he growled; this animalistic urge was taking over his body. He pushed his tongued deep inside of her, swirling is around.  Then he went back up to her clit, swirling his tongue around it first. Then sucking on it lightly. His long fingers found her opening, slowly he pushed two of his fingers inside. He felt her walls tightening around him, he knew she was close. He started moving his fingers, curling them up. his tongue never leaving her clit, he licked it steadily. Just like that first of many orgasms rippled through her body, making her scream.
‘Ahhh…yesss….’ She closed her legs around his head, trembling. He kept licking long, slow stripes over her throbbing pussy. He could stay between her legs for hours, making her scream his name over and over again. But right now, his pants were extremely tight.
‘I need you, my mate.’ Said Y/N after coming back to her senses.
‘We must seal the bond!’ she breath hard, pulling him up to yet another passionate kiss. And who was he to not grant her, her wish? She kissed him hungerly, tasting her nectar on his tongue. She pushed his pants down while he kept sucking on her bottom lip. His fangs lightly pinching her skin, making her sign into the kiss. As his cock sprang free, he pulled away. He discarded of his cargo pants entirely, now kneeling completely naked in front of her. Her eyes twinkled as she looked at him, taking in all the hard muscled of his body. Her eyes ended on his leaking cock. She bit her lip, trying not to smile. He was extremely attractive; all hard muscle and he was hers only hers.
‘Like what you see, princess?’ He asked, smug at how longingly she stared at him. ‘Yes.’ She said, suddenly feeling adventures.
‘Come here baby.’ He said, and she did, on all fours she crawled to him until his cock was right in front of her face. She licked her lips as her eyes followed the tick blue vain.
‘Fuck baby the way you look at me.’ he gripped her hair pulling her face even closed, her breath fanning over his cock. She stuck out her tongue, licking the precum off his cock. He hummed, looking at her the whole time. She looked up at him, taking his tip into her mouth, sucking lightly.
‘Who is my dirty girl.’ He moaned, as she swirled her tongue around. She gripped the base of his thick cock, pumping is slowly.
‘I am.’ She smiled, licking a long strip from the base to the top. That’s when he lost all control. He pulled away, pushing her down again. She laid back as he towered over her. He pushed her legs open, inching closer. He rubbed his cock around her drenched pussy.
‘Fuck baby, can I?’ he asked, searching for her eyes, she smiled at him. Surprised that even after they connected their Queues, he asked her for permission. He knew she wanted him, but he had to hear it. To know for sure that someone really wanted him.
‘Yes! Make me yours, Miles.’ She said, placing her hands around his neck. He kissed her again, slowly pushing his cock into her. He was going so slow, too slow for her liking, but he didn’t want to hurt her. And since she was unmated, he assumed this was her first time. He could never hurt her. Y/N was in ecstasy, whimpering, as Miles pushed his cock deeper and deeper. Filling her up just how she needed. Her body screamed for him, for more.
‘More.’ She moaned, quickly getting used to his girth, thanks to all the slick provided by her heat. Miles started moving slowly, holding Y/N’s hips tight. While his old human self has slept with quit a few women, nothing compared to what he was feeling right now, with his mate. Burrow deep inside her, wet, hot, throbbing core. The bond between them grew stronger and Miles picked up his speed.
‘Feel so good! My mate! My Miles! Feel so full!’ Y/N was a babbling mess, completely lost in the pleasure and all the emotions she felt through the bond. He ran his hands over her whole body, hips snapping faster and faster. He wanted to engrave this moment into his mind. The way her back arched, how she closed her eyes, overwhelmed by the pleasure.
‘Cum for me princess, cum on my cock.’ He groaned as he felt her pussy tighten around him. And she did, his words brought her over the edge. Her pussy leaking around his cock, he picked her legs up. Changing the angle, so he could fuck deeper into her. Just like that his cock hit the right spot, making her cry out louder. They couldn’t care if they woke the whole forest, this was about them. He kept hitting her sweet spot, he legs shook uncontrollably. She was going to cum soon again and this time, he wouldn’t hold back.
‘Fell me up!’ she sobbed, feeling yet another orgasm rip thought her body. That was all it took for him. He tipped over the edge, emptying his load deep inside of her. For a split second he thought of her with a round belly, full with his baby. He smiled, kissing her glistening face. Slowly he scooted her up, his cock still deep inside of her. He laid down, holding her close to his chest.
‘I see you. Y/N.’ he breathed, running his hand through her damp hair.
‘I see you, Miles Quaritch.’ She said, smiling, her life was finally complete.
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thisgirlnamedblusy · 5 months ago
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Maybeeee it's the beginning of summer, Donna and reader are sitting on the porch. Reader asks Donna about her nationality, Donna says how much she would like to go to Italy, but she is grounded in this place. A few days later, reader announced that she had bought a few Italian movies and vinyl records from duke. One day, the reader finds Donna crying while listening to her favorite Italian song…
Please give Donna some comfort!!!
Yess!!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :)))
Take me home
Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader
Warnings: Angst, fluff, hurt & comfort, Donna being Donna
Word count: 6,209
Summary: You want her to feel happy, to remember her childhood. Maybe it's not such a good idea...
N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!!
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With a sigh, you plopped down on one of the chairs on the porch. The weather had improved considerably, since that kind of illusion known as summer would soon begin. Yes, it could only be a couple of days in which the cold of Romania was not so terrible and the sun gave a bit of its heat to melt the white landscape, but for you, it was the best time of the year.
The village was gloomy, sinister, like a constant reminder that all the people who lived there were prisoners of the same darkness. Like an undiscovered island or a lost place in a remote jungle, your existence was nothing but a myth, a legend to anyone not born there.
The darkness, Mother Miranda, the Lords... Everything around you formed the false sense of protection that kept its inhabitants oblivious to the outside world.
You might not have settled for that kind of life, you were always a little more restless than the rest of the people your age. But that restlessness, those whishes to improve your life, even if they were just fantasies, ended the day your tasks as a farmer took you beyond the forest, to discover one of the villagers' common fears.
Donna Beneviento, disturbed, lonely, dark woman... She seemed to be a living legend, something that you couldn't be sure existed despite seeing her every time Mother Miranda told you how good and faithful you were.
A Lord who would probably despise any kind of human approach, or so you thought.
Emboldened by your lack of resources, you decided to cross the threshold of security and tranquility, and offer the fruit of your labor to the lady in black. You were able to return, you were able to return home, and return again and again to the mansion.
What could have caught her attention about you? You didn't know, and soon you started thinking about it at night. The nights, those thinking routines became almost necessary as time went on.
After several months of Donna being your main focus every day, you were finally able to recognize that those thoughts and deliberations were a simple reminder. You really had feelings for her.
Fortunately, the feeling became mutual and, after discovering the beauty the black veil hid, that day, the day of your first kiss, you didn’t return home, you never would.
Sitting on the porch of the old estate, you dedicated your thoughts to thinking about the multiple coincidences that led you to the point where you were, where you wanted to be.
The door opened slowly, and out came the object of your thoughts, the doll maker, carrying a tray with two glasses filled with a thick red liquid.
“Oh, Donna,” you said, waking up from your usual daydream of memories, smiling at the lady so she could do the same, so she could gladden your heart with that beautiful smile, the most beautiful in the world.
“Here tesoro, today is a hot day,” she said, with a soft, hoarse, rarely used voice, one that reached your ears like a soft melody, like a hypnotic song that made you close your eyes and simply let yourself go.
“Thank you,” you said happily, taking one of the glasses and indicating the brunette to sit next to you. Curious, you looked at the contents and moved it with a raised eyebrow. “What is this?”
“Gazpacho,” Donna responded, just after stealing a kiss from your lips, one of those improvised kisses that made you daydream. “It's like tomato juice, but a bit thicker. It is very good to fight the heat.”
You nodded and shrugged, taking a small sip and nodding pleased, with a smile.
“Delicious...” you murmured amused, sighing to relax, now next to her. “Someday you have to teach me how to make all these Italian recipes,” you whispered with a knowing voice.
Donna laughed and shook her head, drinking from her own glass.
“I'll teach you whenever you want, (Y/N), but gazpacho is not Italian,” the lady in black explained. You blinked confused. “It is a Spanish recipe.”
“Oh, Spain... The country of the sun,” you murmured curiously. The lady nodded with a smile, looking into the distance, just like you. “Well, I haven't been that wrong either, they are close.”
Donna laughed again, shaking her head, enjoying your innocent conversations, conversations that you wondered about how long they were absent in her life, how many decades Donna was only sharing her life with the sinister Angie doll.
“Yes, more or less,” she whispered, raising her eyebrows, moving her hand on the table until it reached yours.
Looking at the bright landscape around you, letting yourself be calmed by the sound of the waterfall, you closed your eyes, imagining what it would be like to be able to have that feeling for longer, to be able to enjoy a real summer, without cold, without darkness. You always dreamed of those places that seemed to have the favor of the sun, those places where happiness and light were part of the daily routine.
“It must be amazing,” you commented, letting the air that came out of your lungs betray a melancholic sigh. Donna looked at you, breaking out of her own thoughts.
“Mm?” she asked, now looking at you, continuing to caress your hand with the softness and delicacy of her fingers.
“I mean… Italy… Well, you know...” you said, finishing your glass and getting lost in the landscape again.
“It is,” she said, with a slightly more serious voice, looking away from you. You leaned forward, curiosity beginning to plague your thoughts.
“Have you ever been there? I mean, you're Italian, right?” you asked, with a higher tone, with the tone you used to let your girlfriend know you wanted to have a conversation.
Donna sighed and made a strange face, nodding slowly. A fake smile crossed her face shortly after that.
“Well, my family is Italian, I was born here,” she explained with a calm voice, with a shadow in her eye that you should have seen. “But I guess you could say so.”
You nodded, listening with curiosity to the lady's words, which were beginning to break. You were never too careful with what you said, you never stopped to think about how sensitive poor Donna was, how hurt her mind was.
“So have you ever been...?” you said amused, with a smile that you hoped would be a relaxing one. She nodded slowly, squeezing your hand tighter, leaning back in the chair.
“Yes,” she answered dryly, looking to your intertwined fingers. “My grandmother had a house in Tuscany. We used to go there in summer.”
“In summer... Well, it doesn't surprise me,” you said amused, nodding to agree with her. “Who would want to stay here in summer?”
“I guess we were lucky to be able to go out...” she murmured, with a softer voice, lower, that betrayed sadness.
“What do you mean?” you asked, shifting in your chair to hear her better. Donna sighed and shook her head, biting her lip.
“Don't you think it's strange that my family could leave this place?” she asked, looking at you out of the corner of her eye, as if she were stating an undeniable truth that you couldn't see.
“Well, now that you mention it...” you murmured, scratching the back of your neck.
It was true. No one had ever left the village. The conversation seemed to be getting interesting.
“The Beneviento family, my family, descended directly from one of the founders of the village. Years ago, Miranda's laws were not so strict, and anyone who had enough lei to pay for her approval could leave this place, with the promise of returning, of course.”
“Oh, I didn't know,” you said, blinking in confusion.
“That was many years ago...” she sighed, looking at the bottom of her empty glass, looking for something to distract herself with. “Before… Things were not so…”
“Difficult,” you finished the sentence for her, nodding at the same time, perfectly understanding the reason for her sudden sadness.
Yes, you remembered the adults talking about other times when the darkness of the village was gray and not completely black. Only the undisputed leader of the place, the Almighty Mother Miranda, knew what her reasons were for keeping you all locked up like laboratory rats.
“Well so... What was that like? Was it as idyllic as the books say?” you asked with a different tone, more informal and fun, managing to get a sincere smile from the brunette, who looked at you tenderly.
“I guess that's quite subjective,” she commented amused, with her gaze lost again, playing erratically with your hand, probably without realizing it. “For me it was… Paradise.”
“Uh-huh,” you nodded interested in knowing a little more about the lady in black, a little more about the woman you wanted to spend your entire life with, about the only light that illuminated your darkness.
“Those fields, that light that entered the room in the morning... I wouldn't know how to explain it correctly, (Y/N),” she murmured, focused on her thoughts.
You sighed, disappointed at not being able to satisfy your curiosity towards the outside world. Donna cleared her throat and gripped your hand tighter, changing that veiled sadness into a wide smile and a confident look.
“Maybe I can show you,” she whispered, moving her chair closer to yours. You looked at her suspiciously but with a mischievous smile. “Close your eyes, tesoro.”
After a few seconds of small defiance, you obeyed, feeling how your other hand was also grabbed by hers, how her caresses began to cause strange sensations in your body.
The refreshing humidity of the waterfall disappeared in a few seconds, replacing the smell of the water with that of fresh grass, by the pure smell of the countryside. A beautiful landscape began to form in your mind, full of shapes, colors, and rays of sun forming golden reflections in an old house.
“Nonna, nonna!”
A little girl ran into the arms of an older woman, who picked her up with laughter and loving kisses.
“Donna, mia piccola ragazza...” the old woman sighed, turning the girl around in her arms.
“Look, nonna, this is Angie, she is my new friend,” the little girl said.
That black hair, that much more subtle scar, that look, Donna.
“Oh, ciao, Angie,” the woman said, shaking the wooden hand that Donna offered her.
“Dad made her for me,” the little girl explained, earning another shower of kisses from her grandmother.
The conversation faded and gave way to more images, more memories that entered your mind. Granddaughter and grandmother were cooking in a funny way, with almost inaudible music in the background.
“It's too high, nonna,” the girl said, jumping comically, trying to reach a cupboard in that old kitchen.
“Va bene, Donna,” answered the old woman, extending her arms to take her. “But you already know what you have to do, right?”
The girl nodded with an innocent smile.
“Sei pronto?” asked the old woman. Young Donna nodded. “Sing with me, tesoro.”
“Volare... Oh...Cantare...” they both sang while the girl rose into the air thanks to her grandmother.
Images, brief flashes of laughter, memories, running through the countryside, playing with Angie... All those memories that didn't belong to you flooded your mind, forcing you to smile at that tenderness, that innocence of poor Donna, one that you knew would end.
“What did you said?” the old woman asked, during another of those memories, one heavier, more distressing, the memory of a quiet summer dinner. “I don't think you're being serious.”
“I'm sorry, mother, but...”
“Luca, you unfortunate stronzo...” the woman protested, banging the table hard, which disturbed the rest of little Donna, who was sleeping next to Angie in a corner of that garden, tenderly covered by a blanket. “Haven't you thought about your daughter?”
“Donna is fine in the village,” the adult man responded, with a dangerous look, a look that was too familiar. “It's where she has to be.”
“You know that's not true,” the woman hissed.
“Donna is sick, mother. She doesn't interact with children her age,” the younger woman explained, with a sad look at the girl.
“Mm, maybe she is sick for living in a place like that, Bernadette,” the old woman said, stabbing her fork into the table.
“I'm not going to argue, Giovanna. Mother Miranda watches over us and protects us,” the man said, joining his hands to show respect to the Black Gods.
“Is this how you plan to take care of your daughter? Putting her in the hands of a strega?” Donna’s grandmother protested, getting up from her chair. “Donna has to be here, she is happy here.”
“Mother...” the adult woman sighed, scared by her mother's reaction.
“Do you want to keep our daughter? Good luck,” the man said, with a gruff tone, also standing up. “Come on, Bernadette, take the girl and say goodbye, we will never return to where we’re not respected…”
Like a spasm, all those shared sensations disappeared and you opened your eyes, breathing heavily. Donna was next to you, breathing the same way. After sighing, she looked down, wiping away a tear that slid down her cheek.
“Donna,” you sighed, feeling sorry for that jumble of emotions that she shared with you, a trip to her deepest memories.
“That was the last time I left the village,” she commented, looking away from you again.
“I understand,” you said, with a softer tone.
“It’s so unfair!” the lady shouted, hitting the small table with her fist, making the glasses shake dangerously, threatening to fall if you hadn't picked them up.
“Hey, hey, honey, come on, relax,” you said, holding her wrists so they wouldn't hit the table, thus preventing her from hurting herself again.
“I, I was happy there, I...” she murmured, her gaze lost again, unhinged, protesting against your grip. “I want, I want to go back but, but I can't…”
You, not knowing what to say, sighed, biting your lip, regretful for bringing to light another of her traumas.
“Please, Donna, don’t, don't cry,” you stammered.
“I’m, I’m trapped here forever and... I will never, never be able to return to what I truly considered my home... Miranda adopted me and... Without, without knowing it, I condemned myself and...”
“Shhh, come on, come on, everything is fine. You're here with me, Donna, I'm here with you. This is our home, the place where you and I are,” you said with a soft voice.
She closed her eye and breathed deeply, calming her dementia, even if it was just for a moment.
“I'm, I'm sorry, (Y/N),” she whispered, turning away from your comfort and standing up from the chair. “I'm going, I'm going to pick this up.”
“Wait, wait, Donna, please,” you said in a low voice, unable to prevent the lady from disappearing from the place. Frustrated, you huffed, crossing your arms. “Donna…”
“Hey! You!” A shrill voice interrupted that tense moment. If nothing else was missing to make you nervous...
Angie, the sinister doll, now alive, was comically walking towards you, climbing up the chair.
“My Donna doesn't want to talk to me, you made her cry again!” she rebuked you, placing her wooden hand on your face, a hand you abruptly moved away, with an annoyed growl.
“It wasn't on purpose,” you protested, trying to ignore the doll's accusations.
“It's never on purpose, stupid, stupid,” Angie said, with a mocking tone. “But my Donna always ends up crying and what a coincidence, you are always around.”
You squeezed your eyes with your fingers and shook your head, looking again at the landscape in front of you, now devoid of the sun's rays. As if the weather itself were related to Donna's feelings, a few fine drops of rain spoiled that pleasant summer afternoon.
“Great,” you lamented, burying your hands in your face, hands that were separated by Angie's, still ready to scold you for something you hadn't done.
“Mean, (Y/N), you are mean!” the doll shouted.
“Hey, I was just… Talking,” you defended yourself awkwardly, looking at the rain in frustration. “I always end up screwing up things.”
“Yes, yes, it's your favorite sport,” the doll said, sitting next to you.
“Eh, what nonsense is that about not being able to leave the village? Donna isn't just any villager,” you asked, hoping the puppet knew something else about it. Donna Beneviento was a Lord, after all.
The doll shrugged.
“Miranda's laws,” she explained briefly, taking her sinister gaze away from you. “No one can leave, no matter who you are.”
“Yeah, of course, I should have imagined it...” you sighed, with a grimace of disgust. “I would like to be able to take her to Italy.”
“Italy? Impossible, impossible,” the doll said, with a screeching voice that destroyed your ears. You rolled your eyes and bit back an insult.
“I know it's impossible, damn it,” you said with a gruff voice, clenching your fists. “That's why I said, I would like to do it.”
“Silly, stupid,” Angie insulted you with a sinister laugh.
“Oh, that I want to make your Donna happy does seem silly to you?” you said, with an ironic, mocking tone.
“Make her happy? You have a curious way to do it. As far as I know, happy people don't cry,” Angie mocked, making you stand up from the chair with an angry growl.
“Do you want to shut up? Stop torturing me and…” you hissed, remaining speechless when a crazy idea crossed your mind. You spent a few seconds thinking if it was really a good idea, and you came to the conclusion that it was.
“A lycan got your tongue, stupid?” Angie asked, leaning over you unpleasantly.
“Hey, I'm thinking...” you whispered, not paying attention to the doll's unpleasant comments. “Maybe, maybe I can't take her to Italy but... What if Italy comes to her?”
“You're dumber than I thought,” the doll said, amused, shaking that sinister porcelain head.
“Whatever, I'm going to call the Duke,” you whispered, passively pushing the puppet away and entering the house again.
It might seem like Angie was right, and it was stupid, but deep in your heart it seemed like the right thing to do.
Donna will never return to that place where everything was happiness, she could never do it, and neither can you. The contradictory feeling of worshiping a megalomaniacal priestess and at the same time feeling tied to that place for all eternity was something Donna couldn't bear, something her fragile mind couldn't understand.
Unfortunately, maybe you were the one to blame for her realizing it and because of that, you wanted to redeem yourself for your unconscious actions.
The days passed calmly. Donna seemed to have forgotten that conversation, her smile had returned to her face, but not completely, there was still a hint of nostalgia and helplessness in her eye, something that you believed you were capable of making her forget.
“Have you got everything?” you asked days later, when the Duke appeared at the door of the estate with an inquisitive look, well, like he always has.
“Everything, Miss (Y/N)” the merchant said, bringing a large bag full of items to you with an agonized sigh.
You, suspicious, took a look.
“Okay...” you murmured, taking the vinyl records, the old movies that you had ordered. “I guess now comes a round of questions.”
“Yes, well,” the Duke laughed. “You don't have to answer them but…”
“But...” you repeated, crossing your arms.
“If you do it, perhaps my generous soul will be kind enough to give you a discount. What you asked me for is not easy to find, you know...” he said with an evil tone, with the tone of the unfeeling merchant that he really was.
“20%,” you said, frowning, used to negotiating with that extravagant man.
“Oh, please, I'm not charity,” he protested, rejecting your offer in a funny way. “5%”
“15% and you can ask two questions to me,” you counterattacked, making the man sigh contentedly.
“Well, why do you want this stuff?” the Duke asked, without waiting even half a second. You knew that information was his favorite money.
“I want to surprise Donna,” you answered, looking at the covers of those old vinyl records. “You know, I want to make her feel like she’s in Italy, at least for a while.”
“Oh, interesting...” the man murmured, looking for something in his carriage. “Then this will come in very handy,” he whispered, bringing you what looked like a book of Italian recipes. “There is nothing better to feel at home than a plate of warm food, don't you think?”
“Yes, of course, good idea,” you said with a smile.
“But…”
“But…” you growled, narrowing your eyes.
“I'm afraid that the discount would no longer be available and...” the Duke said, feigning disinterest.
You snorted, gritting your teeth, and tossed a bag of coins into the carriage.
“Here, you greedy fat idiot,” you said in a dark tone, but with a knowing smile on your face. The truth is you liked that man quite a bit.
“It was a pleasure to do business with you...” the merchant murmured, moving his carriage.
“Hey, wait a minute,” you said, leafing through that shiny book. “It’s written in Italian! Hey! Damn…”
Shaking your head, you walked back into the old house.
Carefully, you hid your new acquisitions, ready to go down to the kitchen and prepare dinner, something you hadn't really thought about before. But you still needed help.
“Donna and (Y/N) kiss under a tree...” Angie sang, walking through the hallways. You ran towards her, stopping the doll in her tracks.
“Hey! Angie!” you called, eliciting an annoyed growl from the doll. “I need your help.”
Luckily, the doll agreed.
“Three, no, four tablespoons of flour...” the doll read while you struggled with the package, huffing at the doll's incorrigible attitude.
“Three or four?” you asked, crossing your arms, with the heat of the kitchen preventing you from thinking clearly.
“Eight,” the doll said, amused.
“Angie…”
“Okay, okay... Two,” the puppet finally said, turning the page of that book.
You clenched the spoon in your fist and obeyed, glancing at the oven from time to time.
“What else?” you asked, adjusting the temperature.
“A bit of yeast, sugar, and two gallons of stupid (Y/N)’s juice,” Angie joked, making you wish it was the doll that was in the oven, and not that lasagna.
“How funny,” you said, shaking your head. “Do you want to do help me?”
“I'm helping you,” the doll protested.
“I'll ask it another way... Do you want your Donna to be happy with the surprise or do you want it to be a failure because of you?”
“Happy, happy,” Angie repeated effusively, jumping on the counter.
“Then shut up and keep translating,” you growled, continuing with the dough.
“Tesoro?” Donna asked, peeking through the door.
You jumped, running quickly to get her away from there.
“Hey, hey, hey, no, no, no, you can't come in,” you said amused, pushing her by her shoulders.
“Why? What are you doing?” she asked with a smile, trying to look over your shoulder.
“Cooking,” you said satisfied. Donna, as it could not be otherwise, frowned.
“You?” she asked suspiciously, with a mocking smile. You nodded triumphantly.
“Yes, me,” you said, pointing at yourself with the rolling pin. “So if you don't mind, let me work in peace.”
“But, but (Y/N)...,” Donna protested, as you pushed her down the hallway toward the doll workshop.
“Shh, silence, dolcezza just... dedicate yourself to your dolls, okay? I'll let you know when everything is ready,” you said, pushing her into the old workshop, leaving her completely confused.
“What are you up to?” she asked amused.
“Nothing...” you lied, looking up to show your lie. “Come on, come on, those dolls can’t be made themselves,” you said, kissing her quickly and forcefully sitting her on the work table, running away from the place.
Well, you weren't good with surprises, but Donna wasn't a fool.
“Higher, Angie” you ordered the doll, while you hung a flag on the wall.
“I can't get any higher, stupid,” the doll protested, jumping on a small ladder. “You are an idiot.”
“Yes, yes…” you sighed, tying that flag to a hole in the wall and climbing up to the other side. “Fine,” you said, clapping your hands, looking at how that green, white, and red flag adorned the room. “What do you think?”
“You're stupid,” Angie said, looking at the flag next to you, crossing her arms, comically imitating your posture.
“Shut up and light the candles, I'm going to get Donna,” you said, pointing to the table, which was set in a special, romantic way, with dinner steaming on it.
Before going down the elevator, you stopped for a moment, playing one of the Italian music vinyls you bought from the Duke and checking that the atmosphere was perfect.
“I can’t see anything, tesoro,” the lady protested, being guided by you, with her eye covered by your mischievous hands.
“Okay, we’re almost there,” you hummed, leaving the elevator and walking slowly next to her, with a nervous, expectant smile.
Doing a quick check that everything was perfect, you took a deep breath, releasing the brunette from your grip.
“Sorpresa,” you said with a soft voice.
Donna stood speechless, observing each and every one of the details that now adorned the living room, looking at the vinyl that was spinning tirelessly on the player, at the Italian flag you hung on the wall.
“(Y/N)... What?” she said with a broken voice, with a smile that told you had had the best idea in the world.
“I know that being in this village forever is... Well, it's horrible for you,” you explained, grabbing her waist, kissing her shoulder from behind. “But I suppose that, with a bit of imagination, we can bring the light of Italy to this place, don't you think?”
“It's... It's a wonderful gift, (Y/N),” Donna murmured, turning to kiss you quickly, gratefully, with a twinkle in her eye that you hadn't seen in a while. “Have you done this for me?”
“No, I was just bored,” you said ironically, causing a soft laugh to leave her lips. “Of course I have, Donna. Come, dinner is getting cold.”
A romantic silence invaded the old room. The sweet melody that played in the background only emphasized the happiness you could see on her face, the tender look that conquered you from the first day.
“Everything is delicious, (Y/N),” Donna commented, with that soft voice, as if she didn't want to interrupt that romantic silence with her voice. You blushed, sipping some wine.
“Don't tell Angie, but she has helped me a lot,” you whispered with amusement, giving your ears another of those tender, intoxicating laughs.
“You're such a sweetheart,” the lady whispered, holding your hand under the candle, looking at you with the love she felt, an unconditional love for the luckiest person in the entire world, for you.
“I'm just trying to make amends for my mistakes,” you commented, leaving the glass in its place and noticing the music had stopped playing. “Oh, but wait, this has only just begun…”
After that romantic dinner, the next part of your plan was carried out in the same way, in silence, a pleasant one.
You had asked the Duke for a few old movies, Italian movies to watch with Donna. As expected, emotion and tears of tenderness soon appeared on her pale face.
It was a perfect, unforgettable night.
“It was wonderful, tesoro,” she said, sobbing after entering the bedroom. “I don't know how to thank you.”
You made a dismissive gesture with your hand and smiled, hanging onto her neck.
“You can only do one thing... Make me enjoy your smile,” you whispered romantically, before capturing her lips on yours in a slow, tender kiss like no other.
“Only my smile?” the lady purred, slowly shifting towards the bed. You returned that mischievous smile, turning off the light. “Let's make this night perfect, (Y/N)”
“I agree…”
The next day, just as you had planned, everything returned to normal. The night had been the best of your life. Everything had turned out just as you had thought.
Your mind and your conscience were finally calm.
The smile returned to the lady in black, the kisses returned to your routine. It seemed like you had managed to calm that feeling, that darkness which Donna was struggling to combat with. Deep down you felt proud of being capable of such a feat, but you didn’t forget the regret in her heart was hopeless.
That same afternoon, you were reading quietly on a couch. With Donna working on her dolls and Angie having no intention of annoying you, you could finally breathe easy, congratulating yourself on your achievements with the brunette, letting love course through your body as you sighed, thinking about the night before, about everything.
Calmly, and with a smile, you hummed one of the songs that played during dinner, turning the pages of a book that only you thought you were reading.
The booming sound of the hall clock snapped you out of the bliss of your self-congratulations, forcing you to put a hand on your chest.
“Damn thing, what a scare,” you said with a smile, looking both ways to check that Angie wasn't laughing at your scary way of being, again.
But something caught your attention on the old clock hands, a slightly unusual time.
You quickly checked your wristwatch and frowned. Six o'clock in the afternoon.
Normally Donna would have been reading with you for a long time. She always dedicated a huge amount of hours to her work, but not so many anymore, not since she met you.
Strange and worried, you put the book aside and adjusted your dress, walking towards the elevator. You had a bad feeling.
As you walked through the hallways, a melody reached your ears. Music.
Ma tutti I sogni nell'alba svaniscon perché
Quando tramonta la luna li porta con sé…
“Donna?” you asked, peeking out of the doors of the workshop. There seemed to be no sign of the woman in black, at least not until you noticed a corner, where the woman was sitting with her knees on her chest, crying inconsolably. “Donna!”
You ran towards her, crouching on the floor, preventing her hands from pulling her hair while that song played impassively.
“Hey, hey, stop, don’t... Don't hurt yourself, my love,” you said, struggling with the lady, who was sobbing while she shook her head. Another crisis, one terrible crisis.
“(Y/N)...” she said with a completely broken voice, unable to stop crying.
“Yes, yes, I'm here, my beautiful Donna, come on, stop... Moving,” you said, managing to immobilize her for a moment, kneeling on the floor as well. “Hey, hey, please... Calm down...”
“Mi manca l' Italia,” the lady sighed, without stopping crying, without stopping destroying your spirit with her tears. “(Y/N)...”
A stab pierced your heart. Yes, you had made her spend a wonderful night, made her remember the origins of her family, made her feel for a moment she was not in that disgusting village.
Everything seemed perfect, it seemed that her smile had returned to her, but that was just a mirage. You had failed. you had made her remember those happy times even more, made her realize that they would never return. That song, her favorite song playing over and over again was just a reminder that you had made a big mistake.
“I... Shit,” you whispered, sitting next to her without letting her wrists go, which she moved suddenly, hitting the stone floor hard.
“Why?! Why does life have to be so cruel to me?!” she screamed uncontrollably, forcing you to use more strength, checking her hands in case she had managed to hurt herself.
“Hey, hey, come on... Please, honey, relax...” you sighed, confused and nervous because you didn't know how to act. How were you going to solve something that you had caused?
“Is this what awaits me for eternity?! To live locked in this horrible house for the rest of my life!? If, if that's the case, I... I don't want to continue...”
“No!” you screeched before she finished that sentence, before you could hear that horrible wish. “Enough, Donna! Stop saying that.”
She growled, looking away as you loosened your grip on her wrists.
“Fuck... it's, it's all my fault,” you lamented, letting tears come out of your eyes, sitting next to her and also burying your head between your legs. “I'm sorry, Donna.”
“No, I was the one who... The one who let Miranda take everything from me,” she murmured, blinking erratically, seemingly calmer.
“I've made it worse,” you sighed, leaning your head against the wall.
Donna looked at you slowly, approaching you, asking with her eye for one of your hugs.
You huffed, hugging the brunette with all your might, letting her tears soak your dress as your caresses ran through her hair, over her soft skin.
“You are the only thing that allows me to continue living,” she murmured among sobs, hanging on to your clothes, letting your caresses calm her demons.
“Don’t, don't say that... You are strong, Donna, I know you are. I, I can't make you happy, I can't make you come home... I wish I could, but I can't,” you whispered, calming your broken voice. You needed all your strength to deal with that kind of situation.
The music stopped playing, drawing your attention.
“I just wanted to... Make you feel better and... I'm a disaster, Angie's right,” you sighed, trying unsuccessfully to calm the brunette's crying.
“Don’t, don't leave,” Donna murmured, looking at you terrified. You widened your eyes at that strange request.
“What? I'm not going to leave,” you said, frowning, running a hand over her wet cheek.
“You are my home,” the lady whispered, settling into your embrace, relaxing her breathing little by little. “If you leave me, I…”
You interrupted those words with a salty kiss on her lips, with a sad smile, with a look that begged for forgiveness.
“I'm not going to blame you for missing something that made you happy,” you said softly, gaining some of your lost composure. “I guess we all feel that way at some point.”
“What do you miss?” she asked with an intense look.
“Well, many things... I miss my parents, I miss when I was just a little girl and only had to worry about playing...” you explained, hugging her tighter, intensifying the caresses in her soft, black hair.
Donna nodded, closing her eye with a sob. Calm, luckily, returned to your heart.
“You know what? I also get angry because I know that things will never come back,” you whispered with a tender, calm voice, sounding to the rhythm of your caresses.
“How…? How can you overcome it?” she asked, breathing hard again, sighing in a heartbreaking way.
“Trying not to forget my past, complementing it with my present, creating many more unforgettable moments,” you said, looking at the ceiling, also suffering the scourge of nostalgia.
“Unforgettable moments?” Donna asked, moving away a little, curious. “What do you mean?”
“Well...” you murmured thoughtfully, directing your gaze to the old record player and slowly getting up, pulling the brunette's hand so she could do the same. “Come, Donna.”
She nodded confused, wiping away her tears and following you with her gaze.
You sighed, placing the old record player needle into the beginning of the vinyl, spinning it again.
Penso che un sogno così non ritorni mai più
Mi dipingevo le mani e la faccia di blu…
The music filled the workshop and you, insecure but confident, pulled the hands of the brunette, who was looking at you confused.
“Mi concede questo ballo?” you asked with a whisper, bringing her body a little closer to yours, putting your hand on her shoulder, letting hers go down to your waist.
A sad smile appeared on her face, positioning herself as you wanted, starting to move slowly.
“Of course,” she sighed, closing her eye, letting herself be carried away by your clumsy movements, dancing slowly to the rhythm of the music.
Volare, oh, oh…
“Cantare...” you whispered in unison, letting the steps become more and more coordinated, letting the slowness of the music and that improvised dance be the only thing you could think about.
The dresses moved slowly with the turns, with the hugs, with the kisses stolen from that improvised dance session, a slow dance, one that seemed to ease the pains in Donna's heart, one that made her understand what it meant for you to mix the past with the present to overcome everything you couldn't take back.
“I love you, (Y/N),” the lady whispered, giving you a gentle spin, getting closer to your ear as you let yourself go, smiling tenderly.
“I love you, Donna,” you responded, with the same softness, melting into a kiss coordinated with the music.
“You are the memory I never want to lose...”
61 notes · View notes
heartfullofleeches · 2 years ago
Note
Camp counselor darling and slasher yan? 👀
Fire crackles in the pale moonlight. Figures cower behind a tree stump as a shadow rises from its amber flames, beckoning the braver of the group to draw closer as its voice drops to a grumble.
"It's said that in this exact forest - right where you're all sitting, is where those hikers met their end. On what had been a quiet, peaceful hike until then, the group suddenly began to hear whistling from the trees. A bird's call some would claim, but none of them could argue the strangeness of it all. The sound was a constant as they moved on, switching directions and even allegedly playing right in the leader's ear. A chilling drone that drew further when brought into question- like whatever was watching them was enjoying their increasing fears. They say if you listen closely - you can still hear it-"
The shadows purses its lips in a would be bone rattling hum save for the giggle they're unable to keep in. Still - the call works in favor of their narrative; teeth chattering from more than just the cold.
"The group collectively ruled to write it off as the sounds of the forest, but the deeper they traveled, the louder it grew... and louder... and louder.... until...it fell from the trees."
A hand slips discreetly into its pocket and over the flames - the fires quickly consume the salts and burst in a fiery, devilish red.
"The severed head of one of their members... missing their tongue!"
The screams of the campers reach all the way back to the main hall as you laugh maniacally- drinking the sweet cries of your victims for as long as they'd play along. With a playful shove from behind, the tarp dropped over your shoulders fall into the arms of your fellow teammate as they shake their head with a chuckle.
"Quit telling ghost stories before lights out. We want them to actually sleep when we get them indoors."
"Aww, come on - they earned it. Clean up their mess on time and majority of what you see here won the tug of war game earlier. That counts for something - right?"
You glance back at your audience who all agree on the notion. It was nice to have some people on your side. Really, you couldn't imagine a better way to spend your summer. Your fellow council was a blast, and groups like those seated around you loved the stories and games you came up with. There honestly weren't any issues at the camp - until your last story about man eating spiders left a camper with a fuzzy blanket restless.
Your teammate stifles their grin and tucks the tarp under their arm, clasping their hands over their mouth as the address the campers. "Alright, lights out in ten. Make sure you have all your belongings or we will take them for ourselves. Stick to the buddy system and get back to your cabins.... that means you too, Y/n."
You wave them off, crossing your legs over one another as you sit in the dirt. "Yeah, I know. I'll head it once the fire dies."
The campers gather their things and wave their goodbyes.
"Bye, Y/n."
"See you in the morning, Y/n."
"Can't wait to see what you got next!"
"See you!" You wave everyone off, warming your hands at the fire as everyone leaves. Eyeing the supplies someone had forgotten, you search around for a stick and roast the remaining marshmallows over the embers as the passing breeze snuffs the roaring sparks. You zip up your jacket as it bites - leaning back to watch the moon as it ducks behind the hanging trees. One by one, lights around the camp go out - a soft hum enduring as the whir of electrics drains out. A branch snaps behind you.
"Dawn? You back already?"
Silence...but still, faintly- breathing. You laugh, sandwiching the marshmallow between two crackers. "I know you're here. I can hear you."
Weight shifts behind you. You look back to see, but the branches and haze of night obscure your sight of the silhouette in the trees. ".....I like your stories...."
"Thanks.... but you're not Dawn.... Lewis, that you? I told you I'm not interested, but you're still welcome to sit by the fire."
" 'fraid not.... I'm not from your part of the woods. Is this.. Lewis giving you problems, Dear?"
"Nah, just a flirt... Who are you then."
Silence - followed by the dying pops of the fire. "Just passing by. Live up the creek a few miles down and fancy a stroll now and then. Didn't know the camp wad reopening so soon and overheard one of your stories a couple nights back. You're a whole lot nicer than the group they brought in last year.... cuter too."
"You sure you're not Lewis?... You're welcome to come back and listen another time if you like - if you're just passing by again."
The smile in their voice is indisputable. "I'm sure we'll be seeing alot of each other, Y/n... I can almost guarantee it."
"Right, hey - it's getting kinda late so I have to go. There's still some marshmallows in the bag you can have if you want." No response. You take it as a yes anyway and leave the bag out for them as you throw what remained of your smore into the pit. You stand up, leaving to grab something to put out the fire and the charred remains of your dessert. A figure steps from the shadow and completes the first task for you - picking up your half eaten smore and dusting off the ash as they lowered their mask. A hum at the sweetness of the treat pitches into a soft whistle as the figure disburses back into the trees.
You exit the main hall, water bottle in hand and head back to the pit site - stopped by none other than your teammate from before.
"Hey, Y/n- you seen Lewis anywhere? He said he was going to check out some noise he heard and hasn't come back yet."
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flusteredfools · 4 days ago
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(Summer Daze again- sorry!!!) Was there ever a moment where Sun or Moon genuinely hurt Reader's feelings, or upset them that caused them to back off or avoid the boys for a while? How did Sun and / or Moon react?
First, please don’t be sorry!! I love answering asks and ones for my Fics/Au’s are especially delightful as well as help me flesh more of them out if it’s not something I’ve already focused/touched on so it’s really really nice and helpful!! I’m not sure how close I am to starting the main fic so I’m not too worried about spoiling things that will be in it; though for those who do mind, you might not want to read this if you have good memory and will most likely remember it later in a few months or so XD
(included some rough doodles before I start the next batch of ych prizes XD)
Moon, not so much, but only because conversations were already so few and short between him and the reader; his silence slowly lost its edge as Reader accepted he just is soft spoken and short with his words. So even if/when Moon wanted his silence to bother them, it never hurt too much after the first few times. 
Sun, though, made it crystal clear that he didn’t like Reader from the start, and while not quite bullying (as he would NEVER let that happen to anyone under his watch) he certainly tried his very best to make things as difficult for them as possible. And while it did make them feel sad (after all it's not fun to have your new coworkers not like you) they accepted there had to be a reason for his actions and tried to work through it while hoping the two would eventually come around and the three would be friends one day.
That friendship became a bit of a double edge sword though, as once they started to get closer, Sun had started to lash back out and at that point, Reader couldn’t help but take it personally; friends one day but not the next makes for a confusing struggle. 
The final wound that broke their hope was an overheard argument Sun was having with Buck (The human counselor from Team Fauna), where Sun (who still couldn’t be honest with himself) shared what he claimed were his true feelings before Moon could stop him as Reader turned the corner to where they were standing. 
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The immediate hurt that washed over their expression as their eyes filled and overflowed with tears had both bots’ processes stuttering in panic as Reader turned to run away, choosing to hide in the woods to cry their heart out alone. Moon shouted after them but couldn’t get himself to move out of his frozen shock, and Sun was still just as equally frozen; he’s said plenty of borderline mean things but he’s never made you cry before, it was the first time in his whole existence he truly felt such a deep regret over his actions.
Once they manage to get themselves moving, the two try searching for the Reader and despite knowing the trails and forest well enough to map every path without looking, fail to find them. Eventually Reader leaves the woods and quietly stumbles back to the shared cabin at night; only entering once they believed the two bots were charging in their sleep mode to hide under their blankets for some restless sleep. 
The next day both celestials were greeted with short and forced pleasantries and awkward smiles that they knew held no real joy. Moon had attempted to smooth things over, to at least help rebuild the foundation of the shared relationship; but it seemed you had resolved yourself into believing none of it. Even though the ‘truth’ shared was only by Sun; Moon wasn’t spared from the cold distance, excuses Reader would make to stay away and keep themselves busy with tasks that didn’t require either co-counselor. 
Neither liked it, not after knowing how sweet all the shared moments could be. The hurt Moon had felt only worsened and festered, turning into small fights with Sun over the loss of a wonderful friendship, let alone the loss of a budding love neither would now get to experience. It only took one moment to break everything, and now the two will spend every moment trying to fix it. 
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nebbyy · 9 months ago
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Luke Castellan x Child of Apollo!reader - Last date
A/N: guys I’ve still got a few pics that are coming out in this weekend, after those are out I’ll probably create a first masterlist!! Also, there are two series that are going to start in the near future, one for king Baldwin and another one for Countess Nadia so if you’re interested stay tuned!
P.S.: this time I don't know where the paining is from, so if you know whose artist is this from please tell me, I'd really appreciate the help☺️
Warning: angst, mentions of betrayal, SPOILERS for the PJO story (whether it’s books, series or movies). Oh and reader is described as female
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I think Luke would’ve been restless for weeks trying to figure out what to say to you when the time would’ve come for him to reveal his secret alliance with Kronos, what words would be best fit to make the idea sound more appealing, to increase the chances of you joining him against the Olympians
But as much as he pondered his words, as much as he tried to convince himself that in the end you’d choose him, there was this feeling he had that you wouldn’t follow him this time. And that made him spiral even further, made him try to push down the dooming feeling and focus instead on how to sound even more convincing, how to just get him to listen to him… or more precisely, listen to Kronos
But deep down, he knew that his choices were gonna make him lose you
Although at some point Luke finally seemed to realize that he got so lost in his own thoughts that he started neglecting you. Well, he didn’t really realize it on his own, it was Connor who made him snap back to reality with his dumb jokes
“Hey Luke you keep ignoring your girl and I’m just gonna steal her away. Bet you wouldn’t even notice huh.” Yeah he got a few slaps on the back of his neck for that
But Connor’s harmless words were not so wrong. He didn’t even realize how long it’s been since he even talked to you properly other than kissing you good morning and goodnight
He didn’t even realize how close the end of summer was getting, which, if he didn’t succeed, might’ve been the last months the two of you would spend together
After a little pause to just panic and frantically walk around the Hermes’ cabin trying to make out what to do, he got an idea
You’ve always love theaters, not only to watch the plays, but also to bask in the atmosphere of it all
And he remembered that when he stumbled upon an abandoned theater in a town not too far from Camp
He knew right then and there that he was gonna take you there that night, so that you could forgive him for his absence and he could forget about the rest on the world and focus on you. Nothing else but you
It didn’t take long for him to steal find a necklace that he knew you would’ve loved to wear, a little trinket that would make him be always near to your heart, even when he wouldn’t have been by your side anymore
He left it in a nice little box on your pillow, along with a little note…
I’m sorry I disappeared, I’ll make it up to you I swear. Meet me at the forest tonight I’m taking you to a place
Your mild disappointment in Luke’s absence quickly morphed into curiosity as you held the note in you hand, holding the necklace close to your heart as you tried to fight back the smile at the thought of his mysterious surprise 
Once you reached your rendezvous, he was already there, impatiently waiting for you, holding his hand out to you with an apologetic smile
The walk to the theater, which you still didn’t know was your last stop, was about two hours long, and you mostly spend that time walking silently hand in hand, exchanging very few words
Silence wasn’t anything new between you two, it was actually quite common for you to spend some silent, quality time in each other’s company, with no sound but the world around you
But this time felt different, you could feel that his silence had ulterior motives other than the comfort of quietness
You asked him about it, and he brushed it off saying that his counselor duties have worn him out lately. It was the biggest lie he could’ve told you, but you didn’t question the truth of his words
Because you’d trusted him completely since day one
It broke his heart even further to see how blindly you believed his excuses, so oblivious of the true reason behind his weird behavior. It made him wonder, how broken will you be when you’ll find out the truth
For a moment though, even if brief, all his sorrows disappeared when you finally reached the grandiose abandoned theater, whose splendor still made it stand out despite years of neglect, and your eyes lit up like two new stars to be added to the night sky
You basically rushed him in at that point, earning a laugh from him as he followed you inside
Once you were right before the stage, he swiftly got on top of it before turning around and charmingly offering you his hand to help you up as well
He looked at you for a second, almost entering in a trance as he got lost in the sight of you. But once you called him out, he sheepishly laughed before moving to grab his phone in his pocket, putting some music on before placing it on the ground and turning once again towards you
He knelt before you dramatically, speaking with a mockingly resounding tone, "My lady, would you do me the immense honor of granting me this dance?" You just laughed and nodded
You both danced together, slowly swaying around the stage while holding each other close
You noticed that, as he smiled fondly at you, his smile didn’t really reach his eyes
You wanted to believe what he’d told you, you really did. But there was this gut feeling in you that told you that there was something else going on
“You sure everything’s fine? You don’t look like you’re just tired babe..”, “No no I’m fine, I swear it! I just… I need to be with only you right now.”
You spent so much time there together, that in the end it would’ve been too tiring to go back to Camp straight away, so you opted to spend the rest of the night there
Well, more than opting to it was Luke who begged you to spend the night there with him, forget the rest, you’re both old enough to not have to respond to any of your godly parents
Thinking back to that day, you wonder if you should’ve gotten worried at his bitter words against the gods, instead of simply taking it as his natural aversion to the Olympians
You fell asleep first, lying on the dusty, hard pavement, while Luke stroked your cheek lovingly, staring at your body with a look that he’d spared you the sight of
His heart was about to shatter into a million pieces, all because he knew that this might’ve been his last time spending the night with you, being this close to you
In less than a week, Percy and Annabeth were coming back to Camp, and if they’d succeeded than it wouldn’t take much for them to find out the truth about the theft of Zeus’ lighting 
And as much as he wanted to believe his own delusions that you were going to stay by his side through the whole things, he knew that would never be
And he tried, he really tried so hard to keep in his true emotions for the whole evening, but he couldn’t take him anymore when he saw the necklace he’d gifted you just hours before around your neck
And the promise ring he’d given you on your first anniversary
And the little heart he drew on your arm the day before to annoy you
All little things that brought back the memories of almost four years he’d been with you. All memories of something that will soon end
It makes him wonder if you’ll keep all his little gifts, or if you’ll burn and rip and break everything that reminded you of him
He barely registered the tears that fell from his eyes as he held on to you for dear life as if you’d disappear if he didn’t hold you firmly enough
His cries became more intense as time passed, but he remained careful not to be loud enough to wake you up from your slumber. It was a mixture of unintelligible declarations of love and apologies, that he repeated like a prayer
Because in the end, he was indeed praying
Praying for you to see the reasoning behind his actions, for you to realize that he was in the right and that you had to follow him in this revolution 
And if you wouldn’t grant him this wish, then at least he prayed you’d still harbor the same love that you felt for him for all these years, that you will someday be able to forgive him, leave a place for him into your heart
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thelonelyshore-if · 5 months ago
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Have you done the NSFW alphabet thingy for Beck? If not... would you? 🥺
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Beck's alphabet below the cut <3
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Beck is always wired afterwards. Like, you'd think they'd be worn out, but it energizes them. They'll typically be pretty chatty and restless. 
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
He isn't shy and is in fact rather vain lmao he thinks he's sexy as hell. If he had to pick, he likes his legs. And on a partner…he likes the stomach. Good for kissing. 
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
She really enjoys watching her partner swallow. Or covering their face. 
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Beck has absolutely had sex and/or made out with someone all over town lmao she's an exhibitionist. The risk gives her a rush. 
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Decently experienced! They've had a few casual partners and one night stands; they know what they're doing. 
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Mmmmm I don't think they actually have a favorite tbh? They're very flexible, sex is sex. 
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Oh you know he's lighthearted af in bed. Sometimes he can be serious, especially if it's a bit more of an intense encounter, but he's big on keeping it fun. 
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
They've tried going completely bare once or twice but the upkeep bores them. Probably keeps things decently natural. They have a happy trail.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
The romantic aspect is the part Beck struggles the most with. He's not always the gentlest and romantic intimacy makes him skittish. Will try to distract a partner rather than focus on Feelings.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Beck would love to touch themself while their partner watches. They love putting on a show.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
As mentioned, exhibitionism. She's also really into biting and marking, play fighting, and spanking. 
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Anywhere at all–bonus points if there's some kind of risk involved. Partial to the Literal Forest, and also on/against their motorcycle.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Danger and risk turn them on. After a near-death experience there's nothing they'd want more than to have sex. It's a rush. They also just really enjoy fucking their partner whenever possible.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Hmm…they wouldn't like being tied up. Being restrained would Not Be Great for them. 
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
He really loves receiving. Watching his partner get on their knees for him…it drives him wild. He doesn't like giving as much, but he can get really into it to pleasure his partner. 
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Beck hasn't ever done anything slow in her entire life. 
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
You know they love a quickie. They can be convinced to have a little quickie pretty much whenever. 
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Beck will try pretty much anything. They enjoy experimenting, it's exciting to try new things. 
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
She can go for a while, but after she's come it takes her a minute to regain her breath. After a bit of time though she'll be ready to go again as many times as you want c:
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
I think he doesn't have a lot by way of toys…but he definitely has like. A single pair of handcuffs lol
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
In theory teasing is great, but they simply do not have the patience.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Beck is not a subtle person. They are noisy–they verbally tease, they have a lot to say, they enjoy making their pleasure known lol. 
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
They enjoy fighting for dominance–making out and play fighting until they've pinned their partner (or been pinned, themself)
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) 
Beck is eager to show off. They're surprisingly muscular for their relatively slim frame–they're lithe. They have a few scars from various accidents and injuries, and they'll tell you the story of each and every one. 
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Very c:
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He doesn't really sleep after sex. In part it's because he doesn't often do it right before bed; the other part of it is that he always ends up Wired after.
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fallingdownhell · 2 years ago
Note
Doctors make the worst patients; or you take care of a sick Tighnari.
Doctors make the worst patients... that really is true, I can tell you that. I may not be a doctor, but I'm working as a nurse and I've had many doctors under my care. Let's just say, it wasn't always pleasant...
But yeah, let's get to happier stuff, because Tighnari makes me happy <3
Content: gender neutral reader; comfort; sickfic; Tighnari is sick and you take care of him; fluff
Word count: 620 words
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Tighnari would be a whiny little bitch when he's sick
and I mean that in the most loving way that I can say that
he would not stay in bed, even if it's clear to you and anyone else around that he needs to stay in
he insists that he's fine and that he can keep working, while his ears hang low, just like his tail. His eyes also lack the usual concentrated look
He is stubborn like no one else. Convincing him to take care of himself is nigh impossible
For Tighnari himself to say that he's sick and is better of staying in bed, he would have to be on the brink of death. Not literally, but he would have to feel like literal shit, otherwise he would still force himself to get up and take care of his duties
Even though you tell him that the other forest watchers will survive a few days without him, he doesn't listen
You try every trick in the book to get him to lay down: bribe him with his favourite food, offer him cuddles, but nothing seems to work. Only when you would beg him would he finally realize what he is doing and start to listen to you
He crawls into bed with a defeated look under your watchful eyes and only when his head hit the pillows does he realize how tired he actually is
He falls asleep almost instantly, but he doesn't really get any rest from it. It's a restless and dreamless sleep
when he wakes up again, he feels like shit. His hair is sticking to his forehead from how much he's sweating, but there is also a cool, wet washcloth placed on top of it to cool him down
He sees a glass of water on the table next to him and he immediately chucks it down, his poor throat feeling as dry as the desert itself
Next thing he knows, he hears footsteps approaching and within seconds, you're by his side, kneeling on the floor next to him
You ask him how he feels but one look at him is enough to tell you everything you need to know
Grabbing the now empty glass, you return to the kitchen to fill it up again, but that is not the only thing you grabbed while in there
When you emerge again, you're holding a tray with a full glass, a plate of soup and some medicine for him
Tighnari thanks you as he chucks down the medicine with the entire glass again, before he eats a few spoons of the soup. But a few is as much as his stomach can handle apparently and he has to stop fairly soon or he would risk throwing up
You seem to understand without him even having to tell you and you grab the stuff to bring it back to the kitchen
Once back, you replace the washcloth on his head one more time
As you are about to leave for the night, Tighnari suddenly holds you by the wrist, not wanting you to leave
"Stay?", he asks with a weak voice. You want to refuse, but the way he's looking at you with such big eyes makes it impossible for you to deny him
So, with a sigh, you climb under the covers with him and he instantly snuggles into you more, yearning for you to be even closer to him
he drifts off to sleep soon after that, feeling the warmth of your embrace even in his sleep and he thinks to himself, that maybe being sick wasn't so bad after all if you were here to take care of him..
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nunununuy · 3 months ago
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Part 3
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Part 2
Main Character Prince x NPC Fem Reader
Tittle: "Awakening in a World of Survival: The Prince's Fate"
Several days passed with Leonhard's new routine: visiting (name) in the forest every morning. They spent time together doing various things (name) usually did, like gathering herbs, vegetables, or mushrooms. Sometimes they searched for wild fruits and flowers, or even caught small animals with Leonhard’s skills; he was also quite adept at fishing in the pond. At times, they simply sat by the small lake, enjoying a simple picnic while chatting about trivial things. For Leonhard, the time spent with (name) felt peaceful and enjoyable. There was something sincere and warm in their togetherness, something he had never felt before.
Although it seemed like they were just playing and relaxing, Leonhard actually had another purpose behind his activities in the forest. He remembered that there was an important artifact around (name) village, an artifact that would be very useful for his future adventures. However, despite spending several days exploring the forest, Leonhard had not yet found any signs of the cave where the artifact was supposed to be. The fruitless search began to confuse and frustrate him.
One afternoon, while they were gathering wildflowers, (name) noticed the look of confusion on Leonhard's face. She gently asked, “What’s wrong, Leon? You seem restless today.”
Leonhard was taken aback for a moment but then decided to be honest. He explained, “I’m looking for something. It’s a bit strange, but have you ever heard of or seen a cave with blue flowers that only bloom at night? It should be somewhere around this forest.”
Leonhard didn’t have high hopes that (name) would know. After all, the cave he was looking for was a hidden place, and even in the game, it could only be found through very specific clues. However, to Leonhard’s surprise, (name) seemed to ponder for a moment before responding.
“Oh, I know that place,” (name) replied calmly, as if it were nothing extraordinary. “The cave you’re talking about is in the southern part of the forest. I stumbled upon it by accident some time ago.”
Leonhard paused, astonished by (name) answer. “You know where it is?” he asked in disbelief.
(name) nodded. “Yes, I found it when I fell from a small hill. I rolled down until I got near the cave. But I never went inside. It looked quite dangerous—the ground was slippery and steep. I was afraid that if I entered, I wouldn’t be able to get out again.”
Hearing that explanation, Leonhard felt like the pieces of a puzzle were finally coming together. No wonder he hadn’t been able to find the cave—it was hidden, covered by trees, and positioned slightly lower than the surrounding ground. If one didn’t pay close attention, anyone would easily overlook it. Leonhard grew more impressed with (name), who had inadvertently discovered this place.
“Show me the way,” Leonhard said, unable to hide his curiosity.
(name) nodded and led the way. They walked through the dense forest, moving farther away from the places they usually visited. After a while, they arrived at a somewhat secluded and difficult-to-reach area. Indeed, the cave Leonhard sought was there, hidden behind sprawling tree roots, and its entrance was in a barely noticeable hollow in the ground.
Leonhard stood before the cave, awestruck. He couldn’t believe how hidden this place was. “No wonder I couldn’t find it,” he murmured. “These trees really conceal its presence.”
(name) gazed at the cave with a hint of apprehension. “Are you sure you want to go in, Leon? It looks dangerous.”
Leonhard smiled, trying to reassure (name). “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I know what’s inside.”
After making sure everything was safe, Leonhard slowly entered the cave. The ground inside was indeed slippery and steep, as (name) had said, but he was careful enough not to slip. Inside, the cave felt silent, only illuminated by the dim light entering from the cave entrance. However, deep inside, Leonhard could see the blue flowers starting to bloom, just as he remembered from the game.
“This is it,” Leonhard whispered to himself. The blue flowers signified that the artifact he was looking for was nearby. His adventure had just begun, and he knew this was a crucial step to protect (name) and change the future he already knew.
***
(name) stood outside the cave, staring at the entrance that grew darker as night approached. Worry began to creep into her heart. It had been a while since Leonhard had gone in, and he hadn’t returned. The soft sound of the wind only added to the eerie atmosphere. (name) bit her lip, trying to calm herself, but every passing second without news from Leonhard only heightened her anxiety.
“(name), wait here,” Leonhard had said before entering. That was the last instruction she had received, but now her decision to wait made her feel uncertain. “What if something happens? What if he gets hurt in there?” (name) thought, her mind becoming more chaotic.
(name) stepped forward, approaching the cave entrance. “Leon…” she called softly, fearful of interrupting but also hoping for a response. Silence. She called again, this time louder, “Leonhard!”
Still, there was no reply. (name) heart raced faster. She felt torn—on one hand, Leonhard had asked her to wait outside, but on the other, she couldn’t just leave her new friend in danger. Finally, her worry overcame her hesitation.
Quickly, (name) grabbed the creeping plants that grew wild around the cave. She skillfully began to prepare a rope from the plants, something she had learned while wandering in the forest. Her fingers moved nimbly, tying knot after knot securely, then anchoring one end of the rope to a thick tree trunk growing near the cave entrance.
“I need to be ready to get out,” she murmured to herself, ensuring her rope was secure. After being confident that the knots were strong and wouldn’t easily come undone, (name) took a deep breath. “I have to go in. I can’t leave Leon behind.”
Carefully, (name) entered the cave, gripping the rope tightly to help her step over the slippery, descending ground. The darkness grew denser inside, but she kept moving forward, relying on a sudden surge of bravery. Each step felt heavy, but (name) knew she couldn’t stop now. In her mind, there was only one goal: to find Leonhard and make sure he was okay.
As (name) ventured deeper, she felt the temperature in the cave drop. But the most frightening thing was the silence enveloping the place—only the sound of her own breathing and the soft rustling of the rope she clutched.
***
After Leonhard ventured deeper into the cave to search for the artifact, (name) waited outside with a growing sense of anxiety. Even though Leonhard had reassured her to stay put, (name) worries intensified as time passed. The sun began to set, and the dimming light of the cave added to (name) fears. She tried calling out for Leonhard, but there was no response. With her heart filled with concern, (name) realized she couldn’t leave Leonhard in danger alone.
With strong determination, (name) decided to enter the cave despite her fears. She prepared a rope made of vine and tied it to a tree near the cave's entrance, hoping it would help her return safely. Carefully, she stepped forward, trying to hold on to the rope.
However, after taking a few steps, her foot accidentally slipped on the slick ground. (name) struggled to maintain her grip on the rope, but it slipped from her hands, and she fell quickly, sliding down into the cave. In a panic, (name) screamed as she lost control, her body tumbling down the steep cave floor.
Her scream echoed loudly, causing Leonhard, who was deeper inside the cave, to immediately stop in his tracks. Holding a glowing stone, he turned and started running toward the source of the sound, his heart racing with concern. However, before he could reach the spot, (name) was already sliding down toward him.
In an instant, (name) collided with Leonhard, sending both of them tumbling to the ground. Leonhard fell onto the slick floor, unintentionally landing on top of (name), who had fallen first.
They lay still for a moment, the pain from the impact making it difficult to move. Feeling dizzy, Leonhard slowly lifted his head. At first, he didn't realize he was leaning against something soft and warm, but when he held the glowing stone up to his face, he was startled to find (name) face right beneath him.
With a face flushed with embarrassment, Leonhard quickly tried to get up, but the slippery ground made him lose his balance again, this time falling even closer to (name).
(name), still in shock from the fall, now felt Leonhard's body pressing down on her once more. She could feel the warmth of his body and the rapid beating of his heart, making her nervous as well. "Leonhard? Are you okay?" she asked softly, her hand gently cupping Leonhard's face to ensure he wasn't hurt.
Still in (name) embrace, Leonhard felt his cheeks growing warmer. But he knew he had to calm (name), who looked worried. "I... I'm fine," he replied softly, finally regaining his composure. After confirming they weren't seriously injured, they both attempted to rise again—this time more carefully.
Though they managed to stand, an awkward tension lingered between them. Yet behind that embarrassment, a warmth grew in their hearts.
***
Leonhard still held (name) hand tightly, speaking first, "Let’s go deeper inside." Although the atmosphere still felt awkward after the incident, (name) nodded and prepared to move. However, before she could fully step forward, her foot nearly slipped again. Leonhard, quick to react, immediately caught her, helping (name) regain her balance.
"Are you okay?" Leonhard asked, concern evident in his eyes as he assessed every detail of (name) expression.
(name) gave a faint smile, trying to reassure Leonhard even though her heart raced. "It seems like I twisted my ankle a bit, but I can still walk," she replied softly. Although (name) insisted she was fine, Leonhard decided to keep holding her hand firmly, ensuring she could lean on him for support.
A warm feeling spread in (name) heart at Leonhard's caring nature. Despite feeling awkward about the intimacy, she also felt protected. They continued walking in silence, yet that silence felt peaceful and comforting. Leonhard led the way, holding the glowing stone in his right hand, while his left hand gently clasped (name). Occasionally, he glanced at (name) to check if she was okay.
Time passed, and the cave grew darker, making the light from the Blue Moon stone shine even brighter. With its glow, they explored the damp, rocky crevices of the cave. After walking for a while, they finally reached a wall at the end of the passage. The wall was covered in vines adorned with blue flowers that resembled the ones outside the cave. As Leonhard approached the flowers with the glowing stone in hand, a miracle occurred—the flowers began to bloom, emanating a mesmerizing blue light.
The blue light filled the cave, creating a magical scene. (name) was captivated by the sight, her eyes sparkling with awe. "It's so beautiful..." she whispered softly, almost inaudibly.
Leonhard smiled, watching (name) reaction. He knew that this beauty wasn't just a coincidence. The glowing stone he held, known as the Blue Moon, was the key to activating the hidden artifact. The stone was a rare heirloom from the Valerian royal family, known only to direct descendants. While most in the kingdom considered it merely a decorative item, Leonhard, as a player aware of the game’s secrets, understood that the stone held more power than just a light source. It was the key to finding the legendary artifact passed down from the ancestors of the Valerian family.
As the light from the Blue Moon stone intensified, the vines covering the wall began to move of their own accord, slowly retreating and revealing a gap in the center. Behind that gap was a small room that had previously been sealed off. Inside the room, a large chest was illuminated by moonlight filtering through a small opening above the cave. The moonlight seemed to spotlight the chest, creating a sacred and mysterious atmosphere.
Leonhard and (name) exchanged glances, both realizing they had found something extraordinary. "We need to open that chest," Leonhard said, his voice trembling with anticipation and tension. (name) nodded in agreement, though she felt an uncertainty lingering in her mind. They stepped forward, approaching the chest.
Carefully, Leonhard set the Blue Moon stone down on the ground, making sure its light continued to illuminate the chest. (name) hands trembled as she looked at the carvings on the surface of the chest. Each detail seemed full of meaning, as if telling a long-forgotten history.
"Leonhard, look at this!" (name) pointed at a symbol on the chest resembling the Valerian family crest. "This must belong to your family!"
Leonhard nodded, feeling the weight of the heritage before him. With a sense of tension, he began to lift the chest's lid. The wood creaked as it opened, and the moonlight pouring into the chest created an indescribable magical atmosphere.
Inside was an artifact in the shape of a crown, made of a shining silver metal, adorned with sparkling stones that reflected the light. Each stone appeared to have its own unique color and beauty, as if each held a story and power of its own.
Leonhard and (name) were mesmerized, feeling a strong allure from the artifact. "What are we going to do with this?" (name) asked, her voice breathless with wonder.
Leonhard examined the artifact closely, his awareness of the responsibility and history involved beginning to sink in. "We must protect it. It could be the key to saving the kingdom," he replied, resolutely.
As they gazed at the magnificent artifact, the silence around them deepened, as if the outside world was also waiting for the answer to their adventure. Both realized that their journey had only just begun, and their destinies were now intricately woven with the history and mysteries yet to be unveiled ahead of them.
--- 
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thedeviltohisangel · 10 months ago
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not sure if you’re still looking for blurb requests but what about bucky talking in his sleep about cass and the boys giving him so much shit for it? love your writing btw
All The Things I Did (Interlude): Four Times They Speak About Each Other And One Time They Spoke To Each Other
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a/n: ok i for some reason really put cass through it in this. i guess it was her turn. BUT one of these is an episode 9 breadcrumb and one of these is a post-war baby breadcrumb. happy to discuss any of these in greater details//answer any q's about these little snippets. loving our little sleepovers so those will be continuing and interlude requests always open. see you all in my inbox!
tw: miscarriage
One: Whatever Our Souls Are Made Of, His And Mine Are The Same
Cass was restless on the forest floor. Her sleeping bag wasn’t keeping her warm in the cold German night, the fire merely embers and her heart unsettled.
“John. I’m sorry.” They hadn’t separated in England on the best of terms. She hadn’t meant anything she had said to him. Hadn’t really taken this mission to Berlin just so he could see what it felt like to worry about someone. Had tried to apologize before  she left but hadn’t been able to find the words. “Don’t leave me. Please.”
Her nightmares were plagued with images of planes falling from the sky and parachutes drifting over enemy lands. “No, John, wait!” She couldn’t let him get on that plane. Couldn’t let him get on without knowing she wanted all the things he wanted. A future and a forever. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. I’m sorry. I promise.” Cass couldn’t make the nightmares stop. It was the emotions of this assignment and the emotions of learning that she was in love with John Egan. The emotions of realizing one wrong move and he could be gone from her life forever. One wrong move and she could be the one that never made it home to him. “I love you, John. Please. I love you.”
“Almost woke you up last night. You sounded like you were in pain.” They were staking out a compound on the outskirts of Berlin, Cass peering at it through binoculars. “Have something to do with that pilot who looked liked he wanted to kill me for sharing a drink with you?” 
“I’m good, Will. But thanks. Sorry for keeping you up.” The last thing she wanted was to discuss John with him. Yes, John had wanted to kill him. But not just because of the drink they were sharing. 
“For what it’s worth, you’re here because you’re the best. You’ll get home to him.” That was, if she hadn’t burnt it all down.
Two: To Live For The Hope Of It All
It was just the two of them. It was a sunny day and he had taken her to the wildflower field. He was laughing and smiling and she was glowing and blushing. 
“You’re dangerous. Making it so I could get used to this. Want to get used to this,” John whispered as she leaned forward to tuck a flower behind his ear. “How do I look?”
“Like a prince,” she teased. “Very handsome, Major.” He leaned forward and captured her lips with his own. 
“I love you, Cass.” She beamed.
“I love you, too, John.”
It was the laughter of Gale Cleven that had Bucky’s eyes fluttering open. Cass was nowhere to be found. He could hear rain pattering outside. There was nothing warm and loving about the rows of beds that held less and less men every day.
“What’s so funny?” he groaned as he turned towards his friend. 
“I love you, Cass. I love you, I love you, I love you.” John’s cheeks flushed fire engine red and he thought about suffocating himself with the bedsheet. That might be easier. “You actually say it or you still just dreaming about it?”
“Maybe.”
“She say it back?” Gale asked with a quirked eyebrow.
“Maybe not.” His friend chuckled. “I’m not rushing her. She shows me how she feels. I don’t need her to say it.” 
“Bucky, if you look at Spook like a lovesick puppy one more time-”
“Thanks, DeMarco, you can go back to sleep now.” A smattering of chuckles echoed. 
“We don’t mind listening to you practice saying ‘I love you,’ Bucky, but if you start practicing loving her there might be some issues,” yelled Curt from the other end. 
“Anyone who knows Bucky knows he needs no practice.” 
“No one makes that fucking joke in front of her, understood?” The last thing John needed was Cass hearing he had slept with the entire nation of Greenland or whatever version of events the men were concocting in their head.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, just be sure to invite us to the wedding.” 
“Major has it all planned out in his dream world, boys. Don’t you worry,” Buck joked. Unlike the others, he had truly gotten a sense of the two of them. He had a pretty good idea where it was going. 
“Hell of a woman, Bucky. We are happy for you. All ribbing aside.” Of course Crosby was the one to get sentimental on him. 
“Tell her we say hello at your flower drop in the morning!” A few others chimed in and asked to be included.
“Good night, boys. I love you.” John figured it was better to take the piss than to fight it.
“Name your child after me!”
Three: If There’s One Thing I Am Sure Of, I Am Sure That You Have Always Belonged With Me
In her dreams, everything is as it should be. John is flying but always comes home to her. She travels to the furthest corners of the world and talks to the most intriguing people but she always comes home to him. A home that they have built together and plan to fill with laughter and love. She had cried herself to sleep with tears of frustration too many times to keep track of, the reminder that she had failed echoing constantly. 
“John! John!” She heard her own screams and her chest ached at how they must have sounded to John. At her last glimpse of him trying to reach her. Crawling towards her with his last vestiges of consciousness. It would haunt her the rest of her life. 
“Captain Egan?” She jolted awake and looked around. She didn’t recognize the stark white walls and the rows of empty beds. “We heard you screaming, ma’am. Is everything alright?” Ah, yes. Hospital.
“When can I leave? I’m feeling much better.” 
“You had a miscarriage, Captain. You need to rest a little while longer.” There was that word again. It was all anyone had been whispering about when she woke up hours ago to blood between her legs. 
“I didn’t even know I was pregnant! What I need is to be discharged so I can go back to work.” Cass wanted to point out that without John around, without her husband around, it wasn’t worth being upset about. What she needed was to get him out so they could do it all properly. Do it together.
“It was most likely that very attitude that led to this outcome, Captain.” That was a sentiment she could not bear. That her unwavering dedication to bringing John home might have cost them this. Their most sacred wish. 
“Please don’t say that, Doc.” Cass was held together by sheer determination. The belief that she could figure it all out on her own. That nothing was impossible because she had her head on her shoulders and her wits about her. “I have a plane waiting for me in the next few hours. The most precious thing in the entire world to me waiting on the other end. I need to go.” Just the other day she had been in Wisconsin. Looking at baby photos of John and asking for his mother’s cake recipe and promising his sisters he really was a chivalrous gentleman. She needed the time between now and her arrival in Germany to pretend nothing had happened. Push this entire thing into a box. John could never know.
Four: The World Was Black And White
She watched the men warm their hands by the fire without blinking. There were only a few scattered around the abandoned brick factory and she had found a spot to sit close enough that she still caught waves of heat. Really, she was more focused on the man whose head was in her lap. 
John was sound asleep, her hand smoothing over his hair hypnotically as he breathing evened out and he even cracked out a snore. Cass wasn’t sure when the last time he had slept was. They hadn’t been able to for the past day and a half. Imagined he hadn’t really since he arrived at the camp all those months ago. She was happy to stand guard.
“Cass…Cass, don’t.” She glanced down. His eyes were still closed but the peace was gone from his features. “You can’t be here.” 
“John? John, baby, you’re okay. You’re okay, I’m here.” 
“Not real. Not real.” Cass bit her lip as her eyes began to water ever so slightly. 
“You know, he asked for you in his sleep almost every night.” Gale was watching them. She thinks he looked a little sad. “He spent all day angry and defiant then at night, he just wanted you.” 
“Gale-”
“As soon as you get a chance, you take his hand and you run.” Gale had watched John deteriorate before his eyes. Had watched life breathe back into him when he got a letter from her or on the rare occasion she was able to meet him along the fenceline. Those normally held him over just long enough until the Germans did something to piss him off. 
“Not without you.” Cass wasn’t going to budge on it. There was no chance John would leave Gale behind. No chance she would either. He was family. “You have a wedding to attend.” He smiled.
“Bucky says you two are greedy. Might have a second one.” She smiled the way she always did when someone brought up her future with John. Made her want to wake him up just to kiss him. 
“The first one was perfect. We just want to be able to take our time. Share the moment with the people we love.” Time. The thing they had been chasing this entire war. Cass felt it slipping from her grasp with every step through the German winter. At least, if it all ended, she was with John again.
Five: You Are My Favorite Thought
John was a light sleeper these days. His desire to protect the woman he was wrapped around and the small bump that his palm was placed over leaving him attuned to every creak and groan. 
He had been downstairs making some breakfast when he had heard her scream upstairs. John had scaled the staircase in two strides and skidded to a stop in front of their bedroom to find her pensively looking in the mirror. 
“Spook, everything good?”
“Better than good. I popped!” His brow furrowed as he padded over to her gently. “Look.” She turned to the side and the sight spread a warmth through his chest. There was most certainly a bump. Yesterday, it hadn’t been there but today it was. A baby. 
“Looks like we’re having a baby.” He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around so his hand rested on top of her’s over the bump. He dropped a kiss onto the top of her head. “You happy?” Her initial reaction had been one of excitement but now, watching her in the mirror, her eyes were drifting to a far away place.
“Of course. It’s what we’ve always wanted. What kept me going when…” Sometimes, she still had trouble talking about Europe and all the things they had gone through. “It’s just a little overwhelming.” He twisted his fingers between hers and squeezed gently. 
“That’s why you got me. Tell me how much you love my broad shoulders all the time. They can handle whatever you need them to.” But Cass wasn’t sure if they could handle her betrayal.
His gut was telling him something was wrong as she moved in her sleep to rest her head on his chest. That something inside of her was eating her up. That he wanted to fix it but he couldn’t until she told him what it was.
“John?” She was awake, her eyes filled with emotion as she looked up at him. In her heart, she felt like he knew. Like she shouldn’t have to tell him, he should be able to understand without words. But it wasn’t far to him or to their child. The one they had lost or the one they were preparing for. 
“You can tell me anything, Cass.” No matter what it was, they would work through. They had seen each other at their lowest and knew who each other was at their core. Nothing could ever change the love he had for her. The love he had for the life they had created. 
“I’ve been keeping something from you. Something awful.”
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