#I will never not hold this with me every time I think of my grandmothers passing

[crowrelli]

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[deathsmallcaps]

Ok when I reblogged this last night, I picked 3rd because that’s what I’ve heard, but I also said maybe a little bit #4? Because at the time I thought ‘well something not really mattering to you = a sort of rejection” so I was a little confused as to how they were separate options?

And then when I woke up and I saw this I remembered that the ‘rejection’ idea was an antisemitic talking point. As in supposedly you saw the undeniable truth of Jesus and were like nah.

So I’m not sure how else it could’ve been worded - it was quickly visible to me after a good night’s sleep - but I wonder how many other people were thinking similarly to me when they picked #4, and how many are genuinely antisemitic. But I hope there’s just a lot of confused people.

[the-dendrophile-bookdragon]

Perfect Size

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: reader is described as short, name-calling, swearing, Daemon being a horny menace, soft!dom! Daemon, talk of impregnation, talk of pregnancy, pregnancy, smut

Summary: It was Daemon’s life mission to remind you of your size difference, in every aspect of your shared lives.

A/N: This is part of the wonderful @targaryen-dynasty 3K celebration, congrats by the way!!!! I had so much fun with this prompt. Enjoy everyone and enjoy the other wonderful and talented writers' fics. 3K Celebration Masterlist

My masterlist

The gods make humans in their image. They make them grow until they see them as perfect. Or so your Septa used to say whenever you were frustrated about your small stature. And it was no help that the greatest rake of the realm, Lord Flea Bottom, the Rouge Prince himself, made it his life’s mission to remind you of how small you were.

As children, you had been a bit taller than him. He had a problem with it. The need to be bigger than a stupid girl was great. His growth spurt came and he nearly towered over you, looking down at you with a smirk on his lips. “How is the weather down there?” He would often tease. “Just fine.” You would retort back. “I hope your small brain will get enough air up there. A shame if you lost more of it.” Was your sarcastic comeback.

The older the two of you got, the taller he would get and you would only grow a few inches if you even grew at all. First, he was slightly lanky. His muscles had yet to grow. He would remind you of a newborn horse whenever he would stumble over his two long feet as he trained with his sword. Often giggling to his dismay.

“I will cut your head off, and then you will be smaller!” He would shout in anger when he saw you snickering. Daemon’s temper seemed to grow with every inch he gained. You enjoyed it immensely when it would rise because of you.

As young adults, it was fairly certain that you would grow no more. If you stood behind one of the large dinner chairs you could easily hide behind them. Everything seemed to dwarf you.

Daemon prided himself in the knowledge that he was taller than you. Towering over you like the Hightower in Oldtown. And he never passed down the opportunity to remind you. “Shouldn’t you be with your nurse, little one? I think you got the wrong room. The nursery is that way.” Or other things.

You would glare at him. Often kicked his shin when no one was watching. He would yowl in pain. Jump around and hold his leg. “You little pest.” “Maybe you should get your head out of the clouds.” You teased back.

But there were the times he would call you more affectionate words associated with your small stature.

“Why the sour face, my little love?” He mumbled into your ear as he stepped out of the shadows. He had been hiding from his grandmother and her attempts to put boring and plain noblewoman under his nose.

A huff of annoyance escaped your throat. “Mother forced me to wear this ridiculous gown.” You seethed. Your teeth bared like a wolf snarling.

Daemon found your discomfort rather amusing. You looked like a pretty doll all dressed up. Your hair braided into the style of the land you came from. The gown so unmistakably the colours of your house, shining in the light of the candles.

"Oh, no - you're a lady and you have to wear pretty dresses and jewels and oh no, how horrible!" He teased you lightly. He leaned his head on top of yours. A habit he adopted quite recently. Loving the way you fit under him.

You snorted, very un-ladylike. But he was used to your characteristics. You were not one of those up-tied, boring wenches who tried to turn his head. He would rather gauge his eyes out before he gave them a second of his attention.

His attention was only worthy of one woman. And she was right literally under his nose.

He leaned down, just next to your ear. His hot breath fanned over the sensitive shell. “Do you think it would fit?” You could feel the smirk in his voice. You turned to him with a confused look on your pretty face.  It stayed that way until you felt something. You felt it, him. Hard as a rock, pocking you through the fabric of your wedding gown.

Your face grew hotter than the flames of Caraxes. Your body stiffened as you felt him softly rub against your buttocks. He only laughed lowly. His chest vibrates, sending chills up and down your spine. “You scoundrel!” You lowly scoffed. Your heart beating faster.

Not from his antics. Oh no, you were used to them by now. About the whole banquet finding out about Daemon’s little innuendo. “Oh, little love. I am your scoundrel now. It was ordered by the Queen herself.” He chuckled darkly.

She hit his shoulder lightly. “Stop it!” You tried to reprimand him. But your words fell on deaf ears. “Oh, my little love. How funny you will look with my seed growing inside you.” He began to whisper his lewd words. “You probably won’t be able to walk, so large your belly will grow.”

Your body grew hotter and hotter. It didn’t help that he had you pressed to his chest. His erection pressed against the cheeks of your perfect ass. His hands wander lazily over the front of your dress. Stopping over your belly before wandering further down.

“Oh my little love, will it even fit in your little tight hole? Or will I have to mould your little cunny so only my cock can fit inside?” Your breathing hitched at his dark, lustful words. Daemon’s predatory smile grew at your body's reaction to his scandalous words whispered so softly into your ear.

He often wondered if he was unfair to his wife. She was small, her body had nearly strained from the weight of the beautiful two children she had already given him.

He was right at their wedding feast. Her swollen stomach looked too large for her body. It hadn’t been long before the first signs of pregnancy made themselves known.

From the small bump only three moons after they conceived. He still can remember how his hands could cover it until she was seven moons pregnant. She had been ordered to rest. To not exhaust herself too much.

Daemon, looking at the image of her laying in their bed, their little one nestled in her belly. The sight did things to him. Things where his darkest desires seemed light in comparison. Oh, how he had spent his days behind her, driving himself into her tight cunt instead of sitting in a boring small council meeting. His wife and unborn child needed him, and he needed them.

“Another one?” You looked at him from where you stood. Children’s toys in your arms as you helped your daughters clean the room for the day.

Daemon just shrugged. “Why not? Add another one to our hoard. What about you girls? Do you want another sibling?” He crouched down so he was level with Alyssa and Visenya. Both girls looked away from their task to clean up the solar, screeching with joy as their father spoke to them.

“They are tots, Daemon.” You protested. Picking up more of the girls’ toys. “They will agree to anything if you say it with enough enthusiasm.” Daemon chuckled. “Oh, I think they know what I am saying, elillus (honey).” He smirks softly. His eyes roamed her body without shame.

“It has been so long.” “It has only been a few hours. You had me in the morrow.” You snapped back. Cleaning your daughters’ toys from the floor. Putting it into the chest designated for their toys. “I did not mean our coupling, prūmȳs ñuhus (my heart). I meant another child. The girls are six and four.” He mumbled gently.

She looked up at him sitting in the armchair at the edge of the carpet where the girls were playing moments ago. His violet eyes were dark as he watched her like the hunter his prey. “I don’t know, valzȳrys (husband). You heard the maester's words after Visenya’s birth.”

Daemon saw the change in demeanour. He nearly had you, only a small push. “It is your choice, ābrāzȳrys (wife). I do not want to force you.” He stood up, kissing your forehead before helping you with cleaning the toys up.

You were tossing and turning in bed. Nothing seemed right. Thoughts swirled through your head. So many voices at once.

You wanted to scream. But you would only wake up your family.

“Tell me what is keeping you from sleep, ābrāzȳrys (wife)” Daemon's gravel voice rang through the room. He sounded tired. His back turned to you.

“It’s nothing.” You whispered. “Bullshit!” Daemon groaned. Turning to face you. “It feels like I am sleeping next to a bloody sack of kittens. What is it.” He tiredly glared at her. Knowing full well what was going on.

“You’ve gotten into my head, you menace!” You growled out. Pouting at him. His usual smirk grew on his lips, a soft chuckle escaping. “Apologies for that, ābrāzȳrys (wife).“ „You are not sorry, Daemon.” His grin widened more. “You know me so well.”

A huff escaped your lips. “Why must you torment me so?” Daemon sat up on his forearm, looking down at you. Your hair was splayed out in a messy halo. A bright smile adorned his face as he saw the light, tired glare and the pout on your lips.

“Oh, little love, I vowed to be the bane of your existence since we played with the small dragon figurines our daughters’ play with now. And ever since it was announced you would be my dear lady wife I swore to torture you even more.” He softly nipped at your collarbone, his large hands coming to rest on your rips, just under your breasts.

“Let me help you with your decision-making. Let me enter your little cunny and stay there when I cum. Let my seed fill your womb once more.” His imposing frame loomed over you. Covering you like a blanket.

“What if the maester is right?” “The maesters are cunts who want to see me unhappy and you in doubt. They told you after Alyssa you could not carry another child. Two years later they said the same after Visenya.” He kissed your shoulder gently before his expressive violet eyes stared at you. “What is your body telling you?”

You bit your lip gently, A small rumble going through Daemon’s chest at your gesture. But he restrained himself. “I want another one.” You whispered gently.

A smile broke greater than before out on his lips, his dimples showing. “I will not let anything happen to you. The moment your body is resisting, I will get you moon tea or whatever is necessary.” You nodded gently.

His eyes darkened with lust. “Now before we can even discuss the pregnancy, we must make it happen.”

He lifted himself so his arms were on either side of your head. “Oh my sweet, I longed to fill up your little cunny. Seeing it overflow with my seed. Stuffing it back in.” He laughed gently as you shuddered.

With haste born of his pent-up desire, he ripped all of your clothes off your and his body. You gasped softly, scolding him for literally ripping your nightgown. “I never liked it anyway.” He mumbled against the skin between your breasts. Slowly moving down to your stomach.

He worshipped your body, caressing your thighs and hips. Squeezing the flesh around them, even gently nibbling on it.

He kissed each and every lightning-bold-like scar. Mumbling with every kiss a small thanks. These were the marks of his children. Evidence of your brave sacrifice.

He went further down. His lips ghosted over the soft locks, his eyes watching you heave out breaths of anticipation.

A loud scream ripped from your throat when you felt his tongue plunge deeply into your wet core. The eagerness of his lapping overwhelmed your senses. His nose ever so lightly brushed against your pearl. Teasing it to shoot lightning throughout your body.

You came undone. His tongue, nose and two of his digits working in tandem to torture you. And it worked. Your back arched off the bed. Loud cries of his name and pleas for him to stop accompanied your downward spiral into the abyss of your pleasure.

He stared down at you hungrily. His vibrant eyes were dark with lust. He looked every bit the dragon he ought to be. “Little rabbit.” He growled out. “Sweet, little rabbit. Trapped beneath the large dragon.”

He leaned down again. Like Caraxes would decent upon his pray, Daemon came down upon you. Devouring you once more.

He held your thighs wide open as he ploughed into you. The wet sound of skin slapping against skin rang through the room. His large hand wrapped around your delicate neck, softly pressing against it. Your breathing coming out in small pants.

“You should see yourself, little darling. My large hand is like a necklace on your throat. I can nearly wrap it around.” He chuckled darkly.

His words elicited shivers to run up and down your spine. This action causes your body to tense slightly. Daemon roared as he felt you squeeze his cock. “Seven fucking hells, woman! Do you want to kill me?!” He panted out. Driving his cock deeper inside you. The stretch is a familiar pain. But not too unpleasant. He had prepared you for him. And he would hate for you not to enjoy your coupling.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a soft, sensual kiss. It was so different from the way his hips moved. So slow and loving. “I am not hurting you, am I, my little darling?” He whispered. You shook your head. “Nothing I am not used to from you.” He grinned, nipping at your lower lip, “That’s my good girl.” He whispered.

He picked up his pace. His hands on your thighs clawing into your skin. His knuckles are white. He groaned and grunted, looking down at you with an intense stare. Your own moans and cries mingle with his. Creating a symphony of pleasure.

He came with a roar of your name, his face buried into your neck. Panting heavily next to your ear. Your own climax is triggered by the feeling of being filled with his potent seed. Both your eyes closed in bliss.

He stayed inside you even as his member softened inside you. The grip on your thigh remains tight. Like he needed to be grounded by you.

Your arms wrapped tighter around his neck, softly caressing his head. He hummed gently, letting you know he loved what you were doing. “Do not dare to stop.” He mumbled gently into your neck. You continued with your caress. Softly petting him like he was a dog.

He fell asleep like this. His spent cock inside you, keeping his precious seed inside you. His body acted like a blanket. Your hand in his hair.

[jenchan-writingmultis]

Sylus SFW/NSFW Headcanon/s

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

A/n: I genuinely couldn’t resist. I’m sorry.  This is also my first time writing headcanons that are NSFW! I hope you like it! And I based Sylus on that anonymous man that Rafayel was talking to, while it’s definitely inaccurate, I didn’t know where to base him from aside from the leaked trailer, I hope you like this one!

Masterlist

Pairing: Sylus x AFAB Reader

Warning: NSFW Up ahead! This is for 18+ readers. Stockholm Syndrome, TOXIC! Obsessive love, unhealthy relationship. Degradation

Tell me if I left a warning out, I’ll update this immediately.

Credits: The line dividers are from Kaomoji; the art is from Love and Deepspace ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

SFW: ✧ He’s the kind of person who won't hold back. After you were handed to him like a free meal, he decided that whatever you discussed with Xavier and Rafayel would fail, and he’d ensure it. Even if the plan was to infiltrate Onychinus, he would absolutely make sure it failed.

✧ When Rafayel handed you over to him, he was so elated that he ordered his men to take you to his home as soon as you were drugged, where you’ll be kept trapped. Unlike the other male leads, he isn't upfront but rather lurks in the shadows, stalking your every move.

✧ Even though he acknowledges your capability and doesn’t see you as a weakling, he will ensure you remain completely obedient to him. If you try to escape, he will isolate you further, providing only food and water to keep you alive. In his view, isolation is the most effective method of punishment, especially if it means breaking your spirit to force your obedience.

✧ He despises you. He hates how you make him feel like he's dependent on your presence, while you, on the other hand, don’t even know him, to himself, you were his whole world. Sylus won’t tell you how easy it is for you to have him under your thumb.

✧ You may hate him for your own reasons, and he can see it in your eyes. Yes, he might have been responsible for the explosion that took your childhood friend and grandmother, but it wasn’t entirely intentional. He didn’t expect you to come home so early that day; it was a miscalculation on his part.  He won’t tell you that though, he likes seeing you so focused on him with an emotion you would never feel for the other men in your life. The hatred fuels him.

✧ Now while he’s lenient with you growling and squirming like a mutt, if you try to bite and hurt him back, he’s going to make sure to put a collar around your neck, you’re being a bad pet. He’ll make sure that you drop that disobedience before he’s forced to make it leak out of you instead.

✧ If you start to relax, or simply get tired of trying to escape, he will reward you by letting you go out with him. However, if you try to speak or ask for help, the collar around your neck will inject you with drugs that will turn your brain to mush, ensuring you won’t betray him in public. Not that anyone would dare to save you; he’s confident a few people recognize him.

✧ Oh, don’t take him as someone reckless though, he takes extra measures to prevent you from acting out. Once he implements those safety measures, he’ll be happy to buy you outfits that fit his aesthetic, or anything you’d like really. Sometimes he’ll be nice to you, only sometimes.

✧ I think it’s obvious how he shows his hatred and love for you in these headcanons, he’s going to make sure to tear down that confidence you have, he’ll break you. One of his methods would be to have you be eaten by guilt till you start blaming yourself instead of him. He’s good with his words, he wouldn’t be gaining such loyal followers without it. ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

NSFW:

✧ BRAT TAMER TO THE FULLEST, he wouldn’t let you act out at all, if you tried, he’s gonna have you bent over the wall while he smacks your ass, making sure his handprint stays marked there. Till you can’t sit down comfortably, actually he won’t even let you test if you can sit down properly,  cause he’ll have you sitting on his lap, it can be during a meeting with his trusted companions, imagine a console table with almost 10 people along with him in front, while people are discussing their plans, you can’t even hear it properly cause of how deep his fingers are pumping in and out, his thumb pressing on your clit. If you let out a yelp he'd chuckle before nipping on your ear.

“Quiet, you’re distracting them” he’d murmur while squeezing your waist as a warning.

✧ While he gives off a vibe of being a dominant top if you want to ride him, he’ll let you, however with the condition that you make him cum before you do, which fails! Cause he has a pretty good endurance, you poor girl. Once he wins, he’ll flip you down, pinning your arms up while spreading your legs further, hand pressing on your soft tummy.

“Can’t even ride properly huh? You want me to do all the work pretty girl?"

✧ HATE SEX is one of his favorites, once you get the privilege to go out, if he ever sees you try to speak to another man aside from the bodyguards, he sent to watch over you while he’s busy, he’s going to use that as a reason to leave multiple marks on your body, specifically your neck. You can’t even hide it, along with the bite marks on your thighs. Oh right, not like anyone can see it, you’re forbidden from going out till he milks you of every orgasm he can pull out of you for the next few days.

✧ The type to finger you while you’re in public, if you’re wearing something short, like a skirt, he’ll lift it up, sliding his hand underneath your panty before fingering you. Make sure you don't make too much noise now, or people will notice, slut.

✧ He’s messy, the type to eat you out like a man starved, watch him suck on your clit while he pushes his fingers on your sweet spot, he had his arms wrapped around your thighs just so you don’t try to run away from his skillful tongue, the type of man to make you squirt and once he does he gets drunks over your taste, pulling away a bit just to look at you,

“One more, I know you can take it” he’d say before giving your puffy clit a kiss."

[beensbaee]

𝒏𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒚𝒂𝒎 𝒔𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆 ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

summary; neteyam helps his favorite girl out after she gets sick.

word count! 2.4k

SICKENINGLY SWEET.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

You never missed breakfast.

It was your favorite meal of the day - the time where you and Neteyam would finally see each other after the night had kept you apart from your yawne. Beloved.

During breakfasts, he’d pick the freshest fruits from his bowl and place them into yours - piling and piling the delicious treats on your plate and insisting you deserved to eat only the best. Of course you would share with him - the two of you feeding each other while Lo’ak would gag dramatically at the romantic gesture.

Neteyam had been waiting patiently for you, sitting with his empty bowl in front of him and an already assembled plate - which was overflowing with delicious fruits - placed next to him and meant for you.

The first few minutes of your initial absence were nothing concerning - you were usually always a little late. Your tardiness always gave him a laugh. He’d watch you stumble in between na’vi’s who were already seated - flustered and apologizing every time for passing through with an embarrassed smile on your face as you made your way to him.

When the clan began eating, he told himself you were just running a little more late than usual. Neytiri nudged him, asking him why he was not eating. He only smiled, fingers running over the bracelet on his wrist which you’d gifted him as he explained he wouldn’t eat until you arrived.

Jake gave his eldest son a toothy grin at his words - while Lo’ak groaned

“Seriously? You refuse to eat? She’s not gonna die if you take a bite, you know.” Lo’ak insisted, inspecting the tower of food on your plate with clear jealousy as Neteyam carefully moved it away from his brother - already anticipating Lo’ak wouldn’t even hesitate to snatch a fruit from your plate.

“Yes, I know. But I’ll eat when she comes. Jealous she has more food than you, baby bro?” Neteyam teased as Lo’ak rolled his eyes

“You know she’d share them all with me if I just asked her.” Lo’ak threw back as Neteyam grinned

“Yes. I know that.” He said, a smile on his face as Lo’ak resumed his meal, ranting on about how he’d never hold off his meal for anyone.

But Neteyam’s worriedness only grew as he didn’t hear the usual ruckus of your late arrival - his eyes searched the rows of peacefully eating na’vi and he didn’t see you at all. He also quickly realized your mother had also not come.

“Mother, I am going to check on Y/n. She and her mother are not here - may I eat with her, wherever she may be?” Neteyam quickly asked as Neytiri nodded her head with a frown

“I hope she is all right - make sure you take enough food for all of you to eat!” Neytiri called out after Neteyam as he quickly picked up your plate - bidding his family goodbye as his feet found the familiar path towards your home.

His brows were furrowed as he stood outside your sleeping area, seeing your mother and his Grandmother talking quietly

“Poor girl.” He heard your mother whisper as he slowly approached the pair with furrowed brows

“Auntie - Grandmother, Oel ngati kameie.” He spoke, his eyes worried as your mother sent the boy a sad smile

“Oel ngati kameie Neteyam. She is sick, my boy.” Your mother whispered, her quiet voice clearly indicating you were resting inside as Neteyam’s ears fell

“Sick? Y/n is sick?” He quickly asked as his Grandmother hushed him, handing Neteyam a small bottle as she turned to him with a strict gaze

“She won’t take the medicine - I have no idea why. That girl is stubborn, one of her only flaws. Do you think you can make her take it?” His Grandmother asked with urgency present in her voice as your mother gently took your fruit plate from Neteyam, giving his cheek a quick kiss before taking it inside. He smiled at her before turning back to his Grandmother with a nod

“Yes of course. She will take it.” He answered dutifully, knowing just how stubborn you could be at times. He loved everything about you - to him, you had no flaws. He did not see it as stubbornness, but determination.

“Good. Make sure she drinks the entire thing, every drop. It is necessary for her recovery. You care about her, right?” His grandmother asked as Neteyam immediately nodded his head

“Good. Now, go on.” She said, opening the flap and letting Neteyam go inside while she left, no doubt following your mother wherever she went.

You laid in your hammock, tracing the designs on the fabric mindlessly with your back towards him. He approached you slowly, his gentle hands moving forward to rest on your back

You turned at the touch of his hands - eyes confused and sleepy until you recognized the familiar boy - your yawne.

“Oh Neteyam! I missed you dearly.” You breathed out, your voice hoarse as Neteyam reached to cradle your face in his hands. He saw how tired you were and frowned

“My sweet girl, how did you get so sick? Y/n, you were fine last night.” Neteyam insisted, his voice concerned as he helped you sit up after seeing you try and fail with how tired you were.

“I am fine - just a little tired. And my throat.” You groaned, laying back down almost immediately after he helped you sit up with your arms outstretched above your head. Neteyam moved forward to feel your forehead before he let out a long sigh

“Your forehead is burning, tiyawn. Did you sleep well last night?” He questioned with a soft voice as he knelt beside your hammock, your medicine placed on the ground and out of your view as you let out a huff of breath.

“Yes! I was perfectly fine until this morning! I woke up with my head hurting and my feet aching.” You cried out as he pressed a soft kiss on your forehead, hands immediately moving to massage your feet after the words left your mouth

“My poor girl.” He said, his tone was teasing - you could easily hear the playful undertone. But you still curled towards him, relaxing as his hands released the pent up tension in your feet.

“Mmm. You know you’re the best, right?” You said as you closed your eyes. You felt his hands falter at your statement, and you peeked an eye open to look at him. He continued massaging, but he was frowning now.

“You won’t like me much in a little bit.” He said with a weak chuckle as you tilted your head in confusion

“Y/n, I know you won’t take the medicine. My Grandmother asked me to -”

“No!”

Your voice was hoarse as you yelled out, and Neteyam quickly put his hands up in surrender  

“Easy, easy yawne. Lay back down.” He said gently as you crossed your arms over your chest firmly

“Neteyam, please. I do not want to take it.” You murmured as you rubbed your eyes. He clicked his tongue - showing his disappointment in your words as you turned to him with a knowing look. 

“You wanna tell me why you’re so set on never taking this?” He questioned with a raised brow while holding the small bottle in the air, swishing it around as the green liquid moved inside

“I…I can’t tell you.” You stated, your voice quiet now as Neteyam clasped your hand comfortingly

“You know you can tell me anything, Y/n.” He spoke. His tone so calm after your outburst - so sincere that you felt yourself caving in from his sweet tactics

“Ok, ok. I am…afraid?” You said hesitantly, your words sounding more like a question than the intended statement as Neteyam’s eyes quickly widened

“No no, I know that look! You want to laugh!” You accused, pointing at him as he shook his head with a smile 

“Why would I laugh at such a genuine fear?” He said whilst laughing. You felt your cheeks heat up as you huffed, crossing your arms and slumping in your hammock

“I’m sorry, so sorry alright? Now, tell me why you’re afraid.” He apologized, moving closer to you as his laughter subsided

After rolling your eyes, you decided there’s no need to hide why at all

“It smells funky.” You confess as his smile only widened

“Funky?”

“Yes. Disturbingly.” 

The way you said it was so serious - like the medicine should genuinely be investigated, and it had him laughing all over again

“Oh I am so glad my sickness is so funny to you Neteyam!” You exclaimed as he quickly shook his head, struggling to wipe the smile off his face

“Y/n, listen. My Grandmother adores you, you think she didn’t pick the strongest and most effective cure for your sickness?” He asked as he searched your eyes, seeing your once positive demeanor fall as you realized the Tsahìk would never give you a bad medicine.

Your initial thoughts was that it had rotted when you’d first smelt the absolutely horrible thing, but you realized how silly that even sounded. The Tsahìk probably made it fresh just for you. 

You thought for a bit, sitting in silence before you let out a sigh that had Neteyam’s ears perking up.

“Fine, I will drink it.” You said, looking at the medicine with hesitation as Neteyam placed a kiss on your cheek

“There’s my girl. Open up.” He said while you carefully opened your mouth for him. He untwisted the cap on the bottle, carefully tipping it into your mouth as you swallowed the distasteful thing with a strangled gasp

After drinking the entire thing - every drop - he gave you the leaf holding water beside your hammock to wash down the after taste

You were still coughing, and he gently patted your back to help you - his encouraging words never stopping as he told you how good you were

“So brave, that medicine had me shaking too, you know?” He said laughing as you joined in with him, unable to hold in your giggles as his tail swayed at the sound

“Now, push over.” He said with a playful gleam in his eyes

After talking for what seemed hours and the two of you eating all the fruits he’d brought - sleep eventually took over.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

You’d slept the whole day - and when you awoke, eclipse was nearing.

Your eyes widened as you realized the entire day had gone by while you were resting, and a sigh of disappointment left your lips as you realized you’d be unable to spend the rest of your day with Neteyam - as the two of you only separated at night to go to your respective sleeping quarters with your own families. 

He must have left after you fell asleep to give you any more space you might’ve needed - and as much as you loved his generous heart, you wished he’d been selfish and stayed. 

The medicine must have made you so tired, because it was only minutes later before you were asleep again.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

He awoke with his head burning and feet aching.

He groaned as he sat up, the light outside indicating it was midday by now.

He felt a soft hand on his chest lightly push him to lay back down, and he felt his heart leap at the sight of you

“Y/n?” He breathed out as you smiled sadly

“I got you sick - if you hate me, I can leave.” You whispered, and he sighed with pure relief as he realized you were better - your once tired eyes had regained their lively shine and the fact made him relax. He’d gone to sleep the night before tossing and turning - not knowing if your condition was better or if it had worsened - only contributing more to his lack of sleep and worsening his sickness

“Hate you? Never.” He said weakly with a breathless laugh that had you rolling your eyes and your arms reaching out to envelop him in a hug

“I am so sorry, Neteyam. It is my fault entirely. But I know just how to make you feel better!” You exclaimed, quickling looking into the pouch that Mo’at had given you as a pleased gasp left your lips

“Ta-da!” You singsonged as you held up the oh too familiar bottle

He let out a groan at the sight that had you laughing

“Can’t believe I’m the one taking it now.” He grumbled. Though his voice was entirely grumpy, there was a smile on his face as you opened the bottle

“There’s my boy. Open up.” You teased, throwing his words back to him as his lips parted in an instant for you.

You tipped the medicine into his mouth as he drank it all, a dribble of it trickling it down his chin as you wiped it away with a laugh

He was coughing moments later from the after taste - and like a good partner, you had water prepared and ready for him - and he drank it gratefully

Neytiri approached Neteyam’s hammock with the intention of simply checking in on him - but her steps slowed once she saw you kneeling beside him as the two of you spoke quietly

She watched with a secretive smile - the way you cradled Neteyam’s face as you peppered kisses all over him was simply adorable. She knew you’d have a heart attack if you knew she saw you kissing her son - so she began to leave, a smile on her face as she left the two of you alone.

After a lot of convincing, Neteyam let you lay with him in his hammock. You’d told him how the medicine the Tsahìk had given you would make sure you didn’t get sick again for the next few weeks - and he hesitantly placed his arms around you with a sigh - worried he’d get you sick.

“You’re so warm.” You mumbled against his skin as he merely chuckled, nuzzling his face into your scalp as he sighed

“Pretty sure that is because I’m sick.” He replied and you pretended to be grossed out

“Yuck!” You said laughing as you placed a kiss on his nose - one that had him blushing and hiding his face in the crook of your neck

It didn’t take even an hour more until the two of you were snoring away - your arms wrapped around each other as you slept safe and sound in one anothers embrace.

[unhingedzaryah]

uhhh…is love and deepspace bringing me out of my inactive era / writers block?? This is probably ooc since I just started playing the game and I haven’t written anything in a while soooo…yeah. Just bare with me :)

boyfriend!sylus x blk fem!reader

minors, ageless, haters/harassers dni!!

boyfriend!sylus who absolutely loves every hairstyle you wear but he makes it very clear that he loves your natural hair the most. he loves the entire process of helping you with your hair, from taking it down, to detangling washing and blowdrying. He’ll just sit next to you to hand you whatever you need. Ponytail holders, pins, gel, brushes etc. When you’re finished styling it, he always has a small grin on his face. He pulls you to his chest, biting softly at your cheek and mumbling a low “beautiful” in your ear.

boyfriend!sylus who currently has you bouncing on his thick cock right after you just got a silk press! the car windows are foggy and you’re already sweating. “sy - sylus, i just got my fucking hair done!” you whine, partly because you really wanted your hair pressed for the weekend activities you had planned and partly because your deranged boyfriend is drilling inside your pussy like there’s no tomorrow. he grabs your chin and mutters a “sorry, kitten. It couldn’t be helped.” before slipping his tongue inside your mouth, effectively making you forget how pissed off you are.

boyfriend!sylus who starts making his chefs incorporate some of your favorite meals into their meals. he notices how there’s certain things you don’t particularly like and remembers you babbling about some of the meals your grandmother used to make you before her unfortunate passing.

boyfriend!sylus who sees you wearing a bonnet for the first time since you’ve started dating. he tilts his head in confusion and you can’t help but think he looks like a really cute puppy. you explain what it is and why you wear it, when you’re done he just nods his head and places a kiss on your forehead. the following weekend, there’s a box delivered with bonnets of all sizes and colors.

boyfriend!sylus who sees you taking pictures during golden hour and he just lays on the bed admiring how good you look.

boyfriend!sylus who wastes no time in beating the shit out of a man who made a very disgusting and cruel comment about you and ‘your kind’. Sometimes his violent behavior startles you and other times it makes you want to ride him from dusk to dawn.

boyfriend!sylus who’s helping you pick out a dress to wear for your dinner date. “which one? black or burgundy?” you hold up both dresses so he can take a closer look, after a few moments of silence he hums. ruby eyes flick over to the bed to look at all other dresses you pulled out, he clicks his tongue “what about the gold one?”

you scrunch your nose. “but your tie?” he huffs. “don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll change it.” he’s already reaching to towards his neck when you speak again. “you sure?” he takes a step closer and leans down so you’re eye to eye. “yes, love. I love this color on you, wear this one.” He picks up the dress and hands it to you, gently pushing you towards the bathroom.

boyfriend!sylus who will never admit it out loud but he hates being away from you too long. he needs you around him and in his space at all times or he starts getting grumpier than usual. whenever he’s stressed or pissed off, he seeks you out and plops you in his lap so he can kiss you and play with your hair. He might even use your boobs at stress balls but you tease him about it sometimes but he just huffs and ignores you.

boyfriend!sylus who has your legs thrown over his shoulders while he takes his time teasing you with his hot velvety tongue and long, thick fingers. he’s had you wound up so long that you can’t even remember how much time has passed. “sy…please. I need it.” a low hum comes from his chest, it vibrates through your whole body. his eyes flutter open and lock onto yours immediately. “do you honestly think you deserve it? after being a brat the whole day?”

when you don’t respond, three thick fingers sink back into your cunt, making your body arch. “answer me, kitten.” except you can’t answer him and he knows you can’t because he’s curling his fingers inside you, pressing against that spot and god you’re so close. So fucking close! Just a few more thrusts and — “no!” your voice comes out weak and betrayed, you can feel the tears start to well. His fingers slow then come to a complete stop.

a soft kiss is placed on your thigh, followed by a sharp bite. “you know I don’t reward bad behavior, be a good girl and I’ll give you want you really want.”

— All rights reserved. Please do not copy, steal or translate any of my works!!. 2 dividers from @cafekitsune

[hanafubukki]

“Papa will you come back tomorrow?”

The innocently spoken words felt as if a thousand thorns struck Lilia.

Malleus climbed onto his bed; unaware of the turmoil his words had brought forth.

Papa.

Lilia took a shuddering breath in.

Papa.

Lilia clenched his fists.

Malleus couldn’t call him by such a title.

It wouldn’t be allowed.

“Malleus,” Lilia kneels in front of the little prince, “You can’t call me that.”

Malleus’ lips trembled, brows furrowed, “Why not? Papas are ones who takes care of and raises children.”

Lilia closed his eyes, he had to control his emotions; before holding the tiny hands clenching his clothes.

When had these hands grown? So small were they when he first hatched.

“My Prince, I am not your father.”

Meleanor and Levan, surely, they would laugh at his predicament.

But the Senate-

If the Senate found out, he would be barred from seeing Malleus.

He would never be able to see him again.

“But pa-”

“No.”

Lilia forced his voice to steady through the bitter gravel and yearning in his throat.

Every teardrop causing a fissure in his heart.

“I am just Lilia to you. I’ll only ever be your caretaker.”

Lilia straightens up, trying to ignore the shaking form of his princeling. Resisting taking him into his arms and soothing him as he had done many times before.

“Have a good sleep, My Prince.”

Lilia tries to ignore the sobs from behind.

“Papa come back!” Malleus wailed.

Lilia closed the door behind him.

Breaths coming out shallow, body heavy with grief.

Tears gather while teeth grit.

I’m sorry, my s—Malleus.

Lilia walks down the dark hallways, trudging forth.

Fragments of his heart left behind with each step he takes in tandem with the echoing sobs heightened by stone walls.

“Papa! Please! Don’t leave me!”

…yeah, I teared up a bit while writing this 😭💔 at least I didn’t kill off malleus this time…I’m sorry.

Do you ever think about how Malleus might have called Lilia “papa” or any other fatherly term when he was young as all children do? To the parents they love?

(Under the cut because I have a lot of thoughts and feels)

Do you ever think about how Lilia would have been so happy to have been called that by him? But he couldn’t? Not only because of the memories of Meleanor and Levan (in fact, I think they would laugh at the situation and tell Malleus to do it more if they were alive just for Lilia’s reactions lol), but because of the Senate?

Because the Senate would never approve. And if Malleus called him such a loving term, they would ban Lilia from visiting even the few times he could or snuck into the castle for Malleus.

Even if you take into consideration of Lilia hiding the circumstance of Malleus’ birth so he doesn’t feel guilty, do you ever wonder why? Or what led to it? The senate already tampered with history and how Malleus was born and they tried to control Malleus even now (they didn’t like him coming to NRC, all the guards he had, Malleus having to sneak away, etc)

I can see them isolating Malleus from Lilia if he ever uttered such a term in front of them. Then, Malleus would have no one left but his grandmother who he rarely sees as is.

Do you ever think about how Malleus tried to call Lilia a fatherly term but he couldn’t. Whether because Lilia said it, someone else did, or he stopped himself?

And how that yearning affected them both? Hurt them? In this case, how if Lilia stopped him, Malleus never tries again?

Not only because of the rejection, but because he doesn’t want to lose Lilia? He doesn’t want to be alone again? How Malleus is more polite and subdued the next time Lilia comes?

And Lilia knows? But this is how it has to be? Despite his bleeding heart? And the pain he caused them both? Because at least this way, he can still visit? Do you ever wonder if this is why Lilia tried even harder for the treaty? For Malleus to have freedom?

And…do you ever wonder Malleus’ reaction to Silver calling Lilia “toto” and then later “father”? Ever wonder, if this is the reason why “Malleus was jealous of an acorn bracelet”? Because Malleus couldn’t do, give, or say to Lilia what he always wanted?

Ever think about how this could be why he refers to Silver as “Lilia’s son” or Silver being a child but never himself? How he buries his feelings even now hearing “caretaker” versus “father”? Because of such situations in the past or what led to it?

Because I do, and damnit, I’m crying thinking about it. 😭😔

Also little storytelling bits I like to add as an emphasis:

“Malleus -> My Prince”

To add that little bit of extra angst, that bit of boundary placed and rejection. 😔😭 OTL

How even speaking the words “my son” mentally might cause him to slip, and yet, he still calls him Malleus and not My Prince.

[traveler-at-heart]

Doctor's In - Holiday Special

Summary: You get ready for your first Christmas with the Maximoffs.

Wanda Maximoff x F!R

A/N: So we'll have a mini special consisting of three small chapters for the holidays. This is mainly because the tone for each one will be kind of different and I didn't know how to put it all in one long chapter. If I'm on schedule, part 2 will be posted next week and part 3 the week of Christmas.

Enjoy!

--

It looks like a group of Santa’s helpers vandalized the place.

You return from Thanksgiving break to find that the hospital halls are adorned with candy canes, wreaths and other typical Christmas ornaments.

“Good morning” you greet Darcy and Kamala as you join them in the break room.

“What’s good about swimming in Santa’s vomit?” Darcy mutters.

“For an elf, you’re very grumpy about this time of year”

“I’m not an elf!”

“That’s exactly what an elf that works for Santa would say” you tsk, showing her the cookies Wanda sent her. “She said you had to share with me”

You sit in silence, eating and looking at your phone until she speaks again.

“I have to go back home for the holidays, they think this year Nana will kick the bucket for real”

“RIP Nana” you whistle, knowing Darcy isn’t particularly fond of her conservative, holier than thou grandmother.

“Remember when she called you a demonic lesbian?”

“You know what? Not my worst Christmas”

Kamala, who up until this point was sitting in silence, chokes on her drink, looking horrified.

“What’s up with her?” Darcy asks.

“Kamala has a very nice, loving family” you say with a grave voice, as if it was a dark secret.

Darcy and you get paged at the same time, continuing the conversation down the hall.

“Though I’m not happy about going back home, I’m glad you have an actual place to spend the holidays this year” your friend says, and you smile.

From previous years, you remembered Wanda’s house going all out with Christmas decorations. She’d also knock on your door to leave an apple pie and wish you happy holidays.

“Yeah, I think the Maximoffs have a ton of traditions I need to catch up with”

“Does she know?” Darcy says, and you shake your head no.

“You know it’s the same for me. I don’t think it’s important at all” you shrug your shoulders.

“I think Wanda would like to know. Make it extra special for you” Darcy says and you know she’s right.

“I’ll think about it”

—

Turns out, Wanda was ready to decorate everything, but decided to wait until the weekend so you could help her and the kids.

And by help her, she meant have you carry the heaviest boxes.

“Is that all of it?” you say, going down the stairs with a box with lights.

“Yes, I think so” Wanda goes over everything you have unpacked already. Decorations for the porch, wreath, lights, the Santa Claus that goes in the chimney and the reindeer for the front lawn.

“I never realised how much stuff you put up each year” you comment, scratching the back of your neck. It’s a little overwhelming.

“Sweetheart, I used to do it by myself every year, I promise with your help it will be twice as fast”

“And can I get a reward for helping?” you say, pulling her against you. She smiles, holding on to your forearms as you kiss her cheek and down her neck.

“We have our letters ready!” the kids say, going down the steps.

“Well, let’s set up the tree so Santa has a place to put all your presents then” Wanda says.

There’s the usual Christmas music, and you hum along to all of the songs that you know by heart.

“Someone’s finally getting into the holiday spirit” Wanda comments with a smile.

“The music is catchy, that’s all”

But still, you enjoy decorating the tree, noticing how Wanda quietly goes over the section that Billy and Tommy are doing, fixing everything so it looks better.

“I say we did a good job” Wanda approves when it’s all done, hands on her hips. “We’re only missing the star”

“Y/N can do it this year!” Billy says and you grimace.

“Oh, it’s fine, I’m sure I’ll mess it up”

“I’ll help you” Tommy insists, and Wanda nudges you. Well, you can’t say no to that.

With a sigh, you step forward, letting Tommy guide you.

“Does that look ok?” you say, not knowing if that is how it’s supposed to look.

“Perfect” Wanda assures you, her hand on your back as you climb down the small ladder.

“Can we have hot cocoa now?”

“Yes, and then we’ll decorate the porch”

The kids talk excitedly over each other, discussing the gifts they asked Santa. You follow the conversation, knowing there’s a huge pile of presents hidden inside your closet as you started shopping for the twins a few weeks ago.

“What’s on your list, Y/N?”

“Oh, nothing really. I have everything I need” you smile at Tommy, and it’s true.

“But we need to get you a present! There’s gotta be something you want”

“I’ll think about it, I promise. Should I address my request to you or Mr. Claus?”

“Aren’t you too old to ask Santa for stuff?” Billy intervenes, making Wanda laugh.

“You know what, I kinda am” you say, smiling.

The conversation keeps going for a bit, until Wanda decides it’s time to get back to work.

This time, it’s you who climbs up and places all the lights and ornaments she wants. You’re going back and forth, Wanda constantly asking you to go “a little bit to the right… no, to the left. You know what, it was better the other way” until you’re covered in sweat, muscles aching from all the effort.

Still, once you’re done with everything it looks pretty damn impressive.

“So what movie are we watching tonight?”

“Let’s take a look at the list” Wanda says, hoping you actually wrote down some suggestions. “Nightmare before Christmas is not a holiday movie” she challenges you as soon as she reads it.

“It has Christmas in the title”

“And the word nightmare!”

“What’s it about?” Billy says and you gasp.

“You’ve never seen it?”

“No! Mama! We wanna watch it!” Tommy insists.

“Boys, I think it’s a bit scary… why don’t we watch… Ghostbusters?”

Wanda slaps your arm.

“What?”

“You are not taking Christmas movie night seriously!”

“I watch it every year, I swear!” you say, smiling when she rolls her eyes.

“We’re watching Nightmare before Christmas, but if the kids get scared, you are sleeping in their bedroom floor to keep the monsters away”

“Fine”

You take it as a small win when the boys actually enjoy the movie, and as they get ready for bed, they keep signing “this is halloween” over and over again.

“See? If it was a Christmas movie they would not be singing that” Wanda glares and you have to hold back a laugh.

“I’m sorry, I promise I won’t suggest any more movies for the next month” you kiss her temple, and she relaxes against you.

After taking a shower, you ease into bed and feel Wanda’s breathing even out, exhausted by the day you both had.

Still, you can’t fall asleep.

This has always been a complicated time of year for you. When you were a kid, it was your favorite holiday, mainly because your dad made sure it was extra special. And then he passed away and it just became another event in life that lost its magic. Your mother never really made an effort, at least with you.

It was only until you moved out that you found solace in the small things that reminded you of your dad. The lights, the snowy nights, the shorter days. It was all soft and gentle and it made you feel special again. The quiet life you found for yourself was all you needed to remember the better times.

Unable to sleep, you sneak out of bed and go down the stairs, turning on the tv and watching Ghostbusters, like you used to do with your father.

It’s halfway through the film that Wanda notices you’re gone, and she joins you, placing her head on your lap.

“What do you like to do for the holidays?” she asks, only realising now that she had been making you follow her family traditions.

“Watch Ghostbusters and eat junk food from a vending machine” you say, laughing when Wanda frowns.

“Why?”

“Because that’s what my parents did when I was born” you admit reluctantly.

“Your birthday is on Christmas Eve?”

“Yeap” you say with a smile.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Wanda sits up, hugging her knees.

“It’s no big deal”

“It is to me” she says, taking your hand, her thumb rubbing circles on your skin. “So, what did you do to celebrate before?”

“Same as Thanksgiving, really. Stayed at the hospital, though it is a bit more quiet than other holidays. Darcy would be there some years as well, and we’d just watch the movie and get any junk food we could find”

“And before that?”

“Well, my dad used to take me to pick out a tree and then we’d decorate it together. We’d also go sledding, drink hot cocoa… he told me he was going to teach me how to ice skate, but we never got around to do it”

“Was your mom not a part of it or…?”

Oh, your mother. You had almost forgotten about her and that ominous call. This is as good a time as any to share with Wanda more details about your life.

“So, when I spoke about them before I left out some stuff. My parents didn’t actually live together. My dad raised me on his own until he died and then I had to live with my mother… she was already married and pregnant with my half sister when I moved there”

“I see” Wanda nods, knowing it’s too hard to talk about all of it, even if you put up a brave face. “We’ll do anything you want. And you get to pick dinner and have two presents” she promises with a gentle voice, climbing into your lap.

“That’s not necessary” you laugh, hugging her tight. “You’re all I need, really. Plus, that apple pie you gave me each year was better than any birthday cake. You’ve been making my day special since we’ve known each other, Wanda”

“Still, I want you to have a perfect Christmas and birthday” she says with a determined look, and you know nothing will change her mind.

“Ok, my love”

— 

Second part of the Christmas plan was to get everything on the twins’ Christmas list.

“It’s three weeks for Christmas, aren’t we getting ahead of ourselves?”

“When it comes to twins, the sooner you do the shopping the better. Learned that the hard way when they had to share a Buzz Lightyear”

“I’m just saying, what if they change their minds about something on the list?”

“Excuse me, don’t you have a closet full of presents already?” Wanda mocks and you straighten up.

“How do you know that?”

“My house is right in front of yours, do you think I don’t see the delivery guy leaving stuff on your front door?”

“It’s not like I can sign up for them at the hospital. Plus, those are extra things, not from their list” you defend yourself, looking at the shelves full of toys.

“You are spoiling them”

“Wait until you see your present” you turn to wink at her.

“Is it in one of those boxes?”

“Oh, hell no. It’s more valuable than that” you say, examining the Nerf gun in front of you. “This was on the list, right?”

“Yes, two of everything, remember” Wanda says, looking for the Funko Pops they wanted. You add lightsabers, some remote control cars, and Pokemon figures.

Apparently, Pietro was taking care of the bikes and had promised to teach the kids how to ride during the winter break.

Once it was all settled, you struggled to pay before Wanda could reach for her purse.

“It’s not fair” she protests when you leave the store, taking your hand. “And you still won’t tell me what you want for Christmas and your birthday!”

“How about you, wearing nothing except for a little bow that I get to untie with my teeth?” you pull her against you, kissing the spot behind her ear. “Because that’s all I really want”

“I’d still like a list of other stuff” Wanda says, blushing at the image you just painted.

“Just bake an apple pie that I don’t have to share with anyone” you joke, putting away the bags in the trunk of Wanda’s car. “We should store these in my place, yes? Reduces the risk of the kids finding them”

“Sounds good. We have an hour or so before we have to pick up the kids. Want some hot cocoa?”

“Sure, lead the way” you agree, knowing one of her favorite cafeterias is close by. As you walk across the street, you find an ice rink in the middle of the square that is right in front of City Hall.

“You know… we could try” Wanda says as you walk past it, and you frown.

“Skating? Pass, babe”

“Why? It’s gonna be so much fun”

“I can’t even begin to tell you the amount of freak accidents that happen when you’re wearing a pair of blades in an icy surface”

“Ok, but can we focus on the fun for a second? I’ll be there with you, I’m great. You can hold my hand” she nudges your side, kissing your cheek softly. “Please, my love”

Wanda pouts and you have to roll your eyes. She always wins.

“Fine”

“Yay!”

You mumble incoherently the entire time you put on the skates, sighing when Wanda kneels and ties them up properly.

“What about protective gear?” you say, the girl in charge and Wanda sharing glances.

“What about it?” Wanda asks, trying to hold back a smile.

“What? No helmet? Knee caps? This is a safety hazard!”

“I can give you my elf hat” the girl says, not knowing how to proceed with a hysterical adult that refuses to go inside the rink.

“She’ll be fine” Wanda reaches for your hand. “Come on, sweetheart”

It feels like you’re learning how to walk, balancing on the skates and hoping you won’t fall on your ass.

“Relax” Wanda stands in front of you, smiling. You sigh, clearly unable to do that as people around you glide effortlessly. “Stand straight, knees slightly bent. Ok, feet in a V position, toes out and heels in” she nods, examining your stance. You feel like an idiot. “Ok, now just push to glide, alternating your feet”

“How do I decide which foot to move first?”

“What do you mean?”

“Left or right?”

“Whichever”

“That doesn’t make any sense” you insist, almost losing your balance. Wanda frowns, walking away from you and showing you how to do it. “Well, you make it look easy”

“Hold my hand” she says, skating backwards to pull you forward.

“Oh, God, I should have never agreed to do this” you complain, feeling stupid.

“Baby, relax. Close your eyes. Please” Wanda insists when you huff. With an eye roll, you relent, feeling her hands in yours. “Don’t think, just feel”

Wanda squeezes your hands, pulling you lightly and you take a tentative step forward. It’s not so bad, but you keep your eyes closed, brow furrowed as you focus on keeping your balance.

“I’m here” she reassures you, leaning forward and kissing you. It’s sweet, but definitely not so innocent as she opens her mouth and runs her tongue across your bottom lip. Without noticing, Wanda is dragging you along the ice rink, and you’re so focused on chasing after her lips that you fail to notice you’re finally skating.

“There we go” Wanda says, pulling away and skating backwards. The minute you stop feeling her hands in yours you open your eyes, terrified.

“Why did you let me go?” you shriek, stumbling around.

“You’re doing great”

Truthfully, you are not. Yes, you’re finally gliding along the surface, but your movements are uncoordinated and at one point, you push yourself too hard, going faster.

“How do you stop?” you say, crashing against Wanda. The speed takes her by surprise, and you’re on your way to hitting the edge of the rink. You turn her around in your arms so your back collides against the railing, the blow leaving you out of breath for a moment.

“You ok?” Wanda asks, arms around your waist.

“Fine” in spite of yourself, you laugh.

“Wanna try again?” Wanda says, her hands going up to your cheeks. You kiss her palm, nodding.

“Just don’t let go of me, please?”

“Never” she promises, pulling you back to the rink.

—

The kids are restless as you drive back home, almost as if they can tell you’ve been out shopping for gifts.

“Alright, settle down, you two” Wanda asks as soon as you walk inside.

“I’m walking Sparky now, just in case there’s an actual storm later today” you say, doubting the forecast can be accurate. It’s way too soon for snow.

Still, you put on a jacket and make sure Sparky is wearing the Christmas sweater Wanda got him this morning. For someone who didn’t want a dog, she sure as hell spoils him.

When you’re a few blocks away from home, you look back and dial a number.

“Hello?”

“Jenny. Hi. It’s Y/N”

There’s an awkward pause, and you’re not even sure if your half sister remembers you at all. Last time you saw her she was eight or nine.

“Yeah, hey. How are you? Give me just a second…” you hear a door closing, the outside noise muffled. “What’s up? Are you coming over for the holidays?”

You’re surprised to hear excitement in her voice. No one really cared if you did before.

“Uh, no. I got work” you lie. “I was actually calling you because your mom left me a voicemail the other day. Said you’re considering going to college close to where I live. So, just wanted to check if you know when you’ll be visiting”

It was the only way you could think of to get more information without having to call your mother.

“Gosh, I’m so sorry she bothered you with this”

“It’s no bother” you lie again. Half lie. If it was only Jenny coming you could handle it. The issue was always your mother.

“I think it’s gonna be after New Years but before school starts. Definitely not before Christmas” she says and you sigh with relief. You can at least enjoy the holidays without having to look over your shoulder. “I’ll text you when I know more. I-If it’s not too much trouble, I know you’re super busy”

“Yeah, no, that’s fine. Text me if you need anything. Take care and happy holidays, kid”

You hang up, feeling strange. It’s a relief, to know you didn’t have to worry about this in the immediate future.

But you also think about your siblings. About the family you could have had if things were different. What would have been like if you had pushed against your mother’s bitterness? Been yourself and an older sister for them instead of hiding and leaving as soon as you could.

Was she a better mother to them than she was to you? Or did they have their share of issues with her?

You come back home, deep in thought so you miss the kids and Wanda hanging stockings in the stairs.

“You’re just in time, come over” your girlfriend says, surprising you with one that has your name.

“This is for me?” you say with a smile, amazed. You hadn’t had one since your last Christmas with your father.

“Well, of course” Wanda says, pointing at the spot next to hers. “Put it there”

Before you do as she says, you pick her up and kiss her.

“I love you” you say, trying really hard not to cry.

“I love you too”

“Can we watch a movie now or are you two gonna take forever?” Tommy says, making you both gasp.

“Where is all this sass coming from?” you say.

“We want popcorn!” Billy asks and you roll your eyes.

“Fine. I’ll get the popcorn, you get the movie” you put Wanda down, kissing her cheek.

As it turns out, the film for today is a personal attack on you.

“You frown like the Grinch!” Tommy says, laughing.

“And look, Sparky is sitting next to you, just like Max”

At Billy’s words, Sparky and you turn to look at each other, the dog looking embarrassed at the comparison.

“You know what, little brats? I’m hiding all your presents” you say with a Grinch voice, chasing after the kids as they shout, the movie forgotten.

“Run, boys!” Wanda says, pretending to be scared. You turn to look at her, a smirk on your face.

“Or better yet, I’m taking your mom and keeping her to myself!” you go back, carrying her over your shoulder and going upstairs while Wanda laughs.

—

Turns out a storm did hit during the night. You wake up before anyone else, amazed at the thick snow that is covering the street. You catch sight of Mrs. Davis trying to clean her driveway and you sigh, changing clothes to go out and help her.

“You’re such a dear” the woman says from her doorway as you shovel the snow out of the way.

“It’s not a problem, really” you reassure her. Once you’re done you take the cup of coffee she offers, making small talk until her phone rings.

You walk back to your place, feeling your face numb from the cold air. Even if you don’t have to work today, you clear the snow and the car, knowing it would be a pain to do it later.

Wanda’s driveway is next and by the time you’re done, you can’t feel your fingers or face.

“Sweetheart, why are you up so early?” Wanda says as soon as you step foot inside,  taking off your shoes and coat to keep the rest of the house clean.

“Mrs. Davis needed help” you explain, your nose a little runny from the cold.

“Come here” Wanda almost flinches as she feels your low temperature, but her hands find their way to your face, and then through your hair, getting rid of the snowflakes that landed there. “You’re freezing”

“Warm me up, then” you say, smiling as she kisses you, her lips warm and inviting. Wanda gasps when your cold hands travel south, sinking in her curves. “So hot”

“Snowball fight!” you hear the kids upstairs, who finally woke up and looked out the window.

You smile, greeting them as they walk downstairs to get breakfast. Wanda makes pancakes and you stand next to her, appreciating the warmth of the stove as she finishes cooking.

“Can we build a snowman?” Tommy says, eager to go outside and play.

“Sure. We’ll go after breakfast, ok?” Wanda promises, sitting next to you. There’s a comfortable silence, the boys gulfing down their food and looking at both of you, eagerly.

Though you were looking forward to a slow morning, it’s clear that’s not gonna happen so you wash the dishes while the Maximoffs get their coats and gloves.

Sparky is the first one to run down the stairs, and you’re shocked to find him wearing his own winter jacket and boots.

“I’m feeling a little jealous of all the love he gets” you tease Wanda as you open the door.

The sky is clear now, and the sunlight reflects softly in the white surface. Wanda and the kids use the snow you plowed to build the first part of the snowman, talking while they work. You would be more than happy to help, but you’re too busy admiring the way Wanda’s profile is illuminated, an ethereal glow around her as she laughs with Billy and Tommy.

Once the first part is done, you help them with the middle and the head, making sure the sizes are proportional. Sparky keeps jumping around, the snow covering most of his small body.

“Carrot” Wanda requests, acting as a surgeon requesting a scalpel. She makes sure the eyes and smile are straight, while you pick rocks that will work as buttons.

“Are these ok?” Tommy shows her mom two branches for the arms.

“Perfect. Nice job” she says, nodding approvingly. “And now, the scarf”

She pulls out a red scarf, wrapping it around the snowman. It looks pretty darn cute to be honest.

“What are we naming him?”

“Y/N should name him this year!” Tommy says and you tap your forehead, considering your options.

“I propose… Slushy”

“Nice” Wanda nods, and you’re about to show your agreement when a snowball hits your back.

“Who did this?” you say, crouching like the Grinch again. Tommy and Billy giggle, both pointing at each other. “The Maximoffs have declared war!”

Chaos unleashes after that statement, everyone making snowballs and throwing them at each other while Sparky barks and runs around. Wanda finds cover behind her car, and you lift your fist in the air.

“Truce! We have a runaway! Go get her, boys!”

“No, boys! I’m your mothe-“ she never gets to finish that statement, as a snowball hits her square in the face. She spits out snow, looking shocked. You can’t hold your laughter, especially when she tilts her head and goes after the twins. “You are gonna be grounded until you turn eighteen! Come here, little brats!”

The Maximoffs engage in a battle for a few minutes while you record them, amused. It isn’t until Wanda beckons them to join her that you realise they are now planning an attack on you.

“Wait!” you plead, but you’re too slow, and by the time you run, they are already throwing snowball after snowball at you. You end up falling face first in a small snowbank, and they begin to use their hands to shovel more snow until you’re completely covered.

“Maximoffs win” Wanda says, while Billy and Tommy cheer. “Now go back inside, before you get sick”

You stay on the ground, too tired to move.

“Everything ok?” Wanda says, laughing. You manage to lift your hand and do a thumbs up.

“Spectacular”

—

The rest of the day is thankfully slower. The kids insist on going back out to walk around in the snow, because they think it’s funny how Sparky gets so excited, jumping right into it even if it goes all the way to his ears.

After dinner, everyone is too tired to watch a movie, so Tommy and Billy go up to their room, and fall asleep before Wanda can even close the door to their bedroom.

“I’m so happy we could all be home today” she says, smiling. You nod, closing the door and biting your lip, eager for some alone time with your girlfriend.

As she changes into her pajamas, you step closer, helping her out of her clothes.

“You know, I wanted to talk to you about something… uh…” she stutters when your lips leave a trail of kisses down her neck. “It’s i-important”

“Ok. I’m listening” you nod, pushing her against the bed.

“I can’t focus when you do that”

“Do what?” you feign innocence, settling between her legs, hands going up and down her thighs. “I can multitask, baby. Just tell me what’s on your mind”

Wanda tries really hard to remember what she had to say, but then you’re lifting her legs over your shoulders, pulling her shorts down and biting gently on the flesh of her inner thighs.

You lean forward, about to swipe your tongue across her slit, but stop, looking up at her.

“I’m listening, Wanda”

“Huh? No, please, just…”

“Just what?”

“Just fuck me” she whines, digging her nails in your scalp. You tsk, laughing as her back arches off the bed.

“You forgot what you were gonna say? My baby just likes to be a pillow princess that much, huh?” you taunt, not waiting for a reply. Your tongue finally dips into her pussy, Wanda’s reply to your mockery forgotten as she whines and moans, eager to feel more of your mouth on her cunt.

Finally, you have mercy, and let your tongue circle her clit.

“Fuck” Wanda moans, trying to keep quiet. That upsets you, so you nuzzle your nose against her clit, dipping your tongue deeper to fuck her. Now she can’t keep quiet and you want to smirk, pleased with the way she’s canting her hips up to meet your movements.

“If you don’t stop I’m going to…”

She doesn’t get to finish her sentence, as you increase the speed of your movements, not stopping even when she comes, and tries to move away from you.

You only stop when her legs give out, and you climb up, kissing her stomach, breasts, neck and cheek.

“You were saying?” Wanda tastes herself on your lips, sighing against your mouth.

“I think you fucked it out of me” she mewls against your neck and you smile.

“Let’s see if it comes back after I fuck you again”

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort

AN: As a heads up, I do not have anything scheduled for the rest of the week. I could post but I'll give a notice :) otherwise, we will return Monday 8-14 (if you know me, I probably won't even wait that long lolol)

Transcript under the cut

Nancy Narrates: [I never felt more terrified in my entire life. I could hardly look at him at first. I almost couldn’t bare to hold him, I thought I would break him]

Geoffrey: He’s beautiful. I can’t believe we made something so perfect.

Nancy: [voice wobbles] He’s so tiny... innocent. I don’t want to ruin him.

Geoffrey: You won’t. You’ll be an amazing mother.

Nancy: It’s not like I grew up with the best example of one. What if he hates me?

Geoffrey: Look at how he’s already looking at you. He’s 3 hours old and he’s looking at you like you’re the love of his life. You’ll be great, Nance. We’re going to love him together, our Zachary.

Nancy: I was thinking. I’d like to name him after my brother.

Geoffrey: Oh yeah? Nathan?

Nancy: [hums] Jonathan.

Geoffrey: [smiles] Jonathan Landgraab. I love it.

-

Geoffrey: Hello Mrs. Landgraab. Thank you for coming.

Queenie: I wouldn’t miss the birth of my first grandson. Chester, however, sends his regards; he had a last minute meeting with a client.

Queenie: My, he is stunning. He looks just like my Nathan.

Geoffrey: We’ve named him after him. His name is Jonathan.

Queenie: [softly] I see.

Queenie: [to herself] I’ll do right by you, Jonathan.

-

Nancy Narrates: [When I did look at him, I couldn’t stop. He was beautiful. I counted nearly every eyelash. I kissed every single little toe on each foot. I was mesmerized]

Nancy Narrates: [How did I create something so utterly perfect]

Nancy: [whispers] I don’t know what I’m doing, Jonathan but I’ll figure it out. Bare with me.

-

Nancy Narrates: [ Turns out, I had alot to learn. Motherhood did not come to me as easily as fatherhood did to Geoffrey]

Nancy Narrates: [Jonathan was always regarding me so curiously, and I him. I’ve never interacted with children until I had one of my own. I hardly knew how to talk to them]

Nancy: Oh. Hello. So, what would you add to this lobby to make it look less sterile?

Jonathan: [coos]

Nancy: Natural materials? What are we thinking, wood or stone?

Jonathan: [gurgles]

Nancy: Can I tell you a secret? Your grandmother drives me crazy. Can you believe she mocked my blueprints in front of the entire department? What would she know anyway, she went to school for journalism for fuc- for flip sake.

Jonathan: [babbles wildly]

Nancy: [scoffs] Exactly!

Nancy: Goodness, you’re greedy. You’re like your father. You’re actually a lot like him. You’re sweet; you’re silly. You’re nothing like me, are you? That’s a good thing. I want you to be more like Geoffrey. That’s your father’s name, by the way. I don’t know if you knew that.

Nancy Narrates: [When it came to fatherhood, Geoffrey was a natural]

-

Nancy Narrates: [They were made for each other]

Nancy Narrates: [And began to feel softer every time I looked at them]

Nancy: What did I say about dressing him?

Geoffrey: Heh. Don’t. Don’t dress him.

Nancy: Exactly. He can’t go with my mother dressed like this. I’ll never hear the end of it.

Geoffrey: But he looks so cute.

Nancy: He does but that’s besides that point.

Nancy Narrates: [I was smitten. Everything felt perfect just the way it was. This was certainly the life I signed up for-]

Nancy: [retching, coughing]

Jonathan: Mommy?

Geoffrey: Yeah bud, sounds like Mommy’s not feeling too good. Hey, Nancy? Are you ok in there?

Jonathan: Mommy kay?

Nancy: Oh, for the love for fucking-

Nancy: GOD!!

Nancy: RAAHH! If you get me pregnant again I will kill you, Geoffrey! I swear to god I’ll kill you!

Geoffrey: [nervous chuckles] No Nancy Jr. then, huh?

Nancy: Shut up, shut up, shut up!!

Nancy Narrates: [And before I knew it, we were a family of 4]

Malcolm: [wails]

Nancy: What’s wrong? Why is he still crying?

Queenie: Well, he’s certainly your son, Nancy. You drove your father and I mad with your colicky cries.

Nancy: I did this to him?

Geoffrey: [softly] No, someone’s just having a rough time adjusting to the outside world, that’s all. Hey, Malcolm! It’s mommy and daddy! Your big brother is here! You two are going to be the best of pals, I just know it.

Nancy: Look, Jonathan. This is your brother, Malcolm.

Jonathan: Ew!

Geoffrey: [chuckles] He’s not ew, son. He’s a baby. He’s just a little fussy right now.

Nancy: Do you really think we can handle two children under 2 years old?

Geoffrey: Hey, if there’s anyone who can do it, it’s us. It’s me and you.

Nancy: [sighs] Ok. Me and you.

Jonathan: [screeching] EW!

Malcolm: [screams]

Nancy: Geoffrey do something!!

Geoffrey: Oh! Oh, damn it- Hey! That’s enough!

[beckyninja]

Trust

Pairing: Roboute Guilliman x FemReader

Warnings: some suggestive content; implied torture

Description: This is a direct sequel to At First Sight. Guilliman and his intended break the news to their entourages and face the first test of their relationship.

His calloused hands move over your body, mapping each curve and divot. You feel the heat of them, the strength of them. They could hurt you, you know. They could tear you apart with so little effort. But they won’t. You know they won’t.

He whispers your name. You’ve never heard it spoken that way before. Like he’s drinking in each syllable and is awed by the taste. You whisper his in return.

“Roboute…”

He takes your mouth again and you melt further into his arms. He encompasses you. Overwhelms you. Drowns you in his presence. 

By the Light and the Void, you sink willingly.

But then he pulls back. 

You feel his massive chest heaving against you, hear his breath coming in great gasps. When he speaks, it sounds as if he is trying to hold back an avalanche with will alone.

“I… I must stop.” 

***

“My Lady?”

The voice ripped you from your reverie. You jerked upright, blinking. Before you, the great view port stretched to the ceiling, what was usually a view of endless starfield now taken up by the bulk of The Macragge’s Honor. The Ultramarine flagship, at least the size of your homeworld’s capital city, flew alongside and dwarfed your own ship.

It should have been an intimidating sight. Instead, you found the brutal and beautiful lines of the behemoth comforting. Your betrothed was there. 

Betrothed.

You bit your lip and tried to hold back a delighted laugh. 

Are you thinking of me right now, Roboute? 

An impatient sigh reminded you of your company. You composed your face into a pleasant mask and turned to face the frowning attendant. She bobbed a half-hearted curtsy.

“Captain Takahashi, her officers, and Her Grace’s diplomats are assembled, my Lady. As you requested.”

You took a deep breath and rose from the cushioned window seat. “Thank you, Nita. I will be along shortly.”

The woman barely tried to hide her scoff, bobbed another perfunctory curtsy, and scurried off without waiting to be dismissed. You sighed. You’d done all you could to endear yourself to the attendants Grandmother provided. And still they treated you like some provincial hick fresh from the high country.

Which I suppose I was not too long ago. 

Oh well. You’d grown used to their slights. They didn’t sting as much as they used to.

Holding your head high, you left the Observation Deck and headed toward the Bridge. Time to deliver the news.

Void only knows how it will be received.

***

“I… I must stop.”

He forces the words through gritted teeth. Every primal instinct he thought himself above roars in protest. They rage against his better judgment, urging him to dominate, to ravish. You’re warm and willing. Your very scent cries out to him. You want this as much as he does.

When he pulls away and you whine in confused protest, his will nearly crumbles. 

“Oh My Hearts,” he groans, “do not tempt me.”

“Roboute?” Your soft hand slides along his jaw. “Why…?”

He closes his eyes and fights to master these foreign desires. “I will not dishonor you like this. You deserve better.” When he finally feels he has mastery again, he looks at you. “You will be Lady of Ultramar, my wife. I will not treat you like a mere mistress.” 

You are silent for a moment, then, “I understand.”

Taking your hand in his, he presses another kiss to your palm. “Forgive me my rashness.”

“There is nothing to forgive, Roboute.” Your smile lights the dim room. “You’re a good man.”

If you had reached into his chest and plucked out both his hearts, Guilliman assumes he would feel much the same as he does now. Throne! His adoration is painful in its intensity.

“Sleep well, my Love. Fear nothing, and know that I am near.”

***

Roboute Guilliman was never more grateful for his skill at multitasking. His stylus flew over the parchments and data-slates before him with unerring focus, part of his mind steadily solving the unending problems of Imperial government one by one. As usual. 

He trusted his face remained set in its usual mask. No one near could possibly guess at the turmoil beneath.

You. You. Youyouyouyou….

Your scent. The floral, herbal fragrance you favored, mixed with something he could only describe as fresh. Like the mountain air of Macragge. 

Your touch. Cool in comparison to his and impossibly soft. 

Your taste… the sounds you made….

Throne damn it all!

The stylus in his hand snapped in two. He growled and leaned back in his chair, dragging a hand across his face. For the thousandth time that day, his eyes went to the view port, and the sleek ship that floated beyond. 

He understood your need to address your crew and fellow diplomats. His rational mind did, anyway. Every other part of him chafed at the thought that you were no longer in reach. You were so fragile, and this universe so capricious.

Whatever chance granted him this bit of solace could snatch it away just as easily. His chest constricted at the thought. He needed you close. On his ship. In his arms. In his bed.

No, damn it! 

There were rules, in both your culture and his. Rules that needed to be followed. He would not permit you to begin your life at his side under a cloud of scandal. Throne knew acclimating would be hard enough without that. Besides, he wanted to court you, like the lady you were.

His impromptu proposal would already raise eyebrows. He frowned. You needed a proper ring. He’d have to see to that-

“My Lord.”

Sicarius marched into his office, sabatons striking the floor with slightly more force than usual. Guilliman could read the displeasure on the Commander’s face as he stiffly saluted.

“Are they all assembled?”

“Yes, my Lord. The Victrix Guard, the Ultramarine Captains in attendance, all the most senior baseline officers and officials, and the Mechanicus ArchMagi. As you ordered.”

“The Astropaths are prepared to transmit?”

“They are, my Lord.” Sicarius hesitated a moment. “Forgive me, Lord Guilliman, but, may I speak freely?”

Here it comes. Guilliman sighed.

“Speak.”

“I do not understand your reasoning behind this decision, my Lord.”

Not for the first time, Guilliman regretted the Commander’s presence that fateful night. Hiding anything from Astartes’ ears was nigh impossible, and he remembered well the look of utter horror on the Commander’s face when he’d exited your quarters.

Guilliman stood and made his way toward the door. “I shall make my reasoning clear during the official announcement, Sicarius.”

I doubt you would understand even if I explained it to you. I doubt any of your brothers will either.

Somehow, that saddened him.

***

“In conclusion, Lord Guilliman has made me an offer of marriage, and I have accepted.”

As you expected, your announcement is met by stunned silence, followed by a flurry of hysteria from the other diplomats.

“What?!”

“This is not what was planned!”

“What would Her Grace, your grandmother, say?”

“Have you lost what little mind you ever possessed?!”

You winced at the last outburst, coming from Lord O’Rourke. The stout career politician was the senior diplomat in this delegation, though your superior rank placed you in the position of Ambassador. 

A fact he’d never forgiven you for.

You watched his face turn from its usual red to a truly alarming shade of purple. He lurched toward you and you had to fight the urge to shy away.

He can’t hurt me here. Not in front of everyone.

O’Rourke halted just a few feet in front of you. You could see, and smell, the sweat dripping from his face. He jabbed a finger at you.

“Foolish, brainless, naive little girl!” Spittle flew from his lips. “Get back over there and tell that barbarian warlord you’ve come to your senses and refuse his disgusting impertinence!”

Your eyes narrowed at the insult. He’d been singing a different tune when he’d actually met the Primarch, cringing and quivering on his knees.

“I’m afraid it’s far too late for that, O’Rourke. As we speak, Lord Guilliman is delivering the message to his staff, and then on to the wider Imperium. What’s done is done.” Indignation emboldened you. “And I, for one, am glad of it.”

The stinging slap caught you by surprise. A few of those present gasped, more smirked, as you stumbled back.

“Selfish bastard bitch!” O’Rourke snarled. “Have you any idea what you’ve done? You’ve sold your people into slavery because you couldn’t keep your legs close-”

“That will be quite enough, my Lord.” Captain Takahashi’s quiet command cut through the politician’s rant.

He whirled on her. “This is my delegation! You cannot tell me-”

“This is the Lady Heir’s delegation.” The Captain approached from her position by the helm.  “But you stand on the Bridge of my ship.” She stood a good two feet shorter than the politician, but commanded far greater respect. “And I will not tolerate such undisciplined behavior. Will you, my Lady?”

The Captain sent you a meaningful glance. You swallowed tears of pain and shame.

“I-I will not. L-Lord O’Rourke, please remove yourself from my presence until you have r-regained your composure.” 

Void! Why can’t I stop my voice from shaking?

O’Rourke looked as if he was about to argue, when a motion from the Captain brought two men-at-arms to your side, hands on their weapons. The politician seethed and stormed off the bridge, followed by the rest of the diplomats. They did not bother waiting for your dismissal.

You let loose a long, unsteady breath. “Thank you, Captain.”

She nodded. “I know my duty, Lady Heir. Even if some have forgotten theirs.” A brief pause. “Would you do me the honor of joining me in my stateroom?”

You managed a smile and followed her off the bridge. Once inside the rather spartan stateroom, the Captain pulled a chair and motioned for you to sit. She then called a steward, who vanished into a sideroom before re-emerging with an ice pack and a flask.

“For your face.” The Captain handed you the icepack. “And for your spirit.” She handed you the flask.

“Thank you.”

You pressed the pack to your aching cheek, but did not drink from the flask.

“You’ve always been kind to me, Captain.” The stoic woman bowed her head in acknowledgement. “I would know your thoughts on this matter, if I may.”

A long silence. The Captain seemed to stare off into the distance before speaking.

“In my time in your presence, I have come to know you as a conscientious young woman. You care for our people, and would never take a course of action that would harm them.”

You warmed under the rare praise.

“In fact, I believe you would sacrifice both your dignity and your honor if you believed it necessary. You have been taught to do so.”

Your eyes widened. “This isn’t like that, Captain!”

“Is it not?”

You set the ice pack on the table. Your mind spun with a thousand different arguments and rationalizations. Finally, you settled on the simplest.

“I love him.”

Her expression didn’t change. “But do you trust him, Lady Heir?”

A bucket of ice water dashed over your head would have felt much the same. “I….”

By the Light and the Void, do I? Or am I being played for a fool yet again?

You finally chose to take a swig from the silver flask. The liquor burned its way down your throat, but failed to supply the courage you sought.

“Captain, I…I don’t-”

“Captain!”

A naval officer burst into the stateroom, eyes wild. “Someone has armed the nuclear arsenal!”

Captain Takahashi was on her feet in the blink of an eye. “Shut down the firing systems, immediately!”

“We’ve tried, Ma’am. We’ve been locked out of the computer!” He swallowed. “They’re aiming at the Imperial flagship.”

Roboute. 

You felt your heart still. “Light help us.”

***

Guilliman stood in his massive audience chamber. The vaulted ceilings, great pillars, and vast murals of Ultramarine triumphs never failed to awaken mixed feelings of pride and melancholy in him. But today, today he allowed himself to feel just a sliver of joy as well.

He knew few enough in the multitude shared the sentiment.

Shock seemed to be the prevailing emotion, followed closely by confusion, especially among his sons. At least they didn’t all express the same blatant disdain as Sicarius. He hoped some of them would eventually come to appreciate your presence. Part of him wished Calgar were aboard, just to see his reaction.

The baseline officials traded glances and whispers amongst themselves. They all knew of your existence, of course. But relatively few had ever come into contact with you. This news must seem to come out of nowhere to them.

Only the Mechanicum Magi had no response at all. Guilliman could imagine them wondering why he’d interrupted their work for such a trivial announcement.

He found himself oddly disappointed.

Then he noticed the serfs.

They moved among and on the edges of the crowd, unnoticed by nearly all. But his Primarch’s eyes caught the smiles beneath their hooded robes.

It seems some did share his joy after all. The thought lifted his hearts.

He turned to Sicarius. “See that the Astropaths transmit this message not only to Holy Terra, but to the Captains of the Companies as well.”

Sicarius nodded, but did not leave immediately. “My Lord, what if this is all some sort of trap?”

A few eyes glanced their way and Guilliman growled. “Lower your voice, Commander.”

He did, but did not stop speaking. “I do not know how this… female has ensnared you, my Lord. But have you considered that she could be some sort of psyker? How do we even know her people possess any useful technology? Perhaps this is all an elaborate ploy to get you to lower your-”

“Enough!” Guilliman winced as his retort echoed throughout the chamber.

He retreated to his office. Sicarius followed, silent but obviously displeased. Once inside, Guilliman whirled on him.

“Commander, I understand your concerns, but if you ever, ever question my judgment in front of such a multitude again, I will see you demoted and dishonored. Do you understand?” 

Sicarius went rigid. “Yes, my Lord.”

Guilliman closed his eyes and breathed deeply. “Do you think I have not considered each and every one of the things you named? I have. And I have discarded them all.”

The Commander’s facial muscles twitched in such a way that Guilliman knew he was struggling to remain silent.

Guilliman turned away.

How can I explain this in a way you could understand, Cato? How can I say that I truly do not care if her world is of value to the Imperium or not? As long as I have her.

He remembered the look in your eyes when you accepted his proposal. The love he saw there. He knew what betrayal looked like. Few knew it better. 

You would never do that to me.

Alarms blared. A mechanical voice screeched through both his and Sicarius’s personal vox-casters: “FOREIGN WEAPONS SYSTEMS’ ACTIVATION DETECTED. ALL HANDS TO STARBOARD BATTLE STATIONS.”

Sicarius leapt into action. “My Lord! We must get you to the armoring room!”

But Guilliman broke away and strode to his view port. Your ship slid into view, small and silvery and somehow more aggressive than it had been just hours before. He saw portals, like mocking mouths, opening  all along the side facing The Macragge’s Honor. Missile ports.

“My Lord!” Sicarius bellowed.

The mechanical voice screeched again. “COUNTERMEASURES READY. AWAITING ORDER TO FIRE.”

Behind him, he heard Sicarius activate his vox. “This is Cato Sicarius, Commander of the Victrix Guard, I hereby give the order to-”

“Wait.”

Sicarius’s voice rose into octaves not usually attained by an Astartes. “My Lord?!”

Guilliman ignored him, eyes fixed on your ship. In a mere millisecond to the average human, his mind raced through every possible option. His flagship could atomize your’s without even putting a dent in its munitions stock. Your crew knew they had no chance. That left malfunction as a possibility.

Or suicide. Your ship had been allowed closer to The Macragge’s Honor than any non-Imperial ship in millenia. This could be some desperate, sacrificial attempt at assassination. Sicarius’ words, dismissed moments before, now gnawed at him.

Had that been your plan all along?

“Lord Guilliman!” Sicarius all but screamed.

He did not speak, eyes still fixed on the open missile ports. He should give the order. But something… something held him back. 

“INCOMING MESSAGE FROM FOREIGN VESSEL.”

He let out the breath he’d been holding. “Patch it through to my personal vox.”

Behind him, he sensed Sicarius was nearing an apoplectic fit.

“Roboute?”

Your voice, thin and staticky from a barely compatible communications system. But still your voice.

He activated his vox and spoke your name.

***

You gasped in relief at the sound of your name over the transmitter. “Roboute! Don’t fire. There was a mutiny among several of my delegation. They hijacked one of the firing systems.” You knew you were babbling, but couldn’t stop yourself. “We managed to stop them just in time and things are back under control. Don’t fire!”

Tears filled your eyes. You couldn’t decide if they came from the stress of the last few minutes, or the idea that your love might think you’d betrayed him.

“Please don’t fire. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I-I would never….” Your throat nearly closed. 

Beside you, one of the naval officers reported. “Their weapons’ systems are still active, Captain.”

Captain Takahashi’s face, blackened from weapons’ fire, was grim. She motioned to another officer.

“How quickly can we cloak?”

The officer just shook his head.

You swallowed. It was all up to you.

Do I trust him? Does he trust me?

“Roboute, please.”

You felt a strange sense of calm as the realization you’d done all you could came over you. Now it was up to him.

The officer next to you suddenly laughed. “They’re powering down!”

The transmitter cracked to life. “Are you well?”

Tears fell. You replayed the last few minutes over in your mind. Chasing after the Captain and her men-at-arms as they rushed to the Fire Control Center. You hadn’t known what else to do, and waiting seemed unbearable. 

There you’d found the door held by Lord O’Rourke’s personal guard. Shouts. Screams. Smoke in the air. Someone had shoved you to the floor. You remember wishing you had a rifle.

In seconds that seemed like hours, your group had forced their way past the door, and found O’Rourke poised to fire the missiles.

He’d looked so proud. “I do this for our people, and by the command of the rightful heir-”

 Light and Void, had you really thrown yourself at him? At that moment, you hadn’t thought of the alliance, shattered before it had a chance to begin. You hadn’t thought of the hundreds of innocents who would die. You hadn’t even thought of your own life.

You’d thought of impossibly blue eyes, looking at you like no one had ever looked at you before.

When you awoke moments later, ribs aching from where you’d been thrown against the computer bank, all you could think about was getting to the nearest transmitter.

“Yes, Roboute, I am well.”

The next hours passed in a blur. Roboute insisted you return to his flagship, and Captain Takahashi had agreed. She couldn’t know who else among her crew might be plotting mutiny. But she did have one thing to say when she met the Primarch in the docking bay.

“Nothing will stop me from launching every bit of ordinance I have at your ship, if the Lady Heir comes to harm under your care.”

The Ultramarines had stiffened, but Roboute only nodded. “If I allow harm to befall her, I will lower our shields myself.”

Then he’d swept you into his arms. You snuggled against him as he carried you through the halls of his ship, ignoring the glances from those you passed. 

“Where are you taking me?

“I have had new quarters prepared for you, adjacent to my own.” He smiled wryly down at you. “I am not letting you out of my sight again. Not, at least, until we reach your homeworld.”

You stiffened. “You’re taking me home?”

“Of course. How else will I officially ask for your hand?”

You pressed your face into his chest, not wanting him to see the dismay that flitted across it. Home held fewer happy memories than he thought. Still….

You trusted Roboute Guilliman to keep you safe.

***

Guilliman made sure you were tucked safely in bed, a medica on hand and one of his Victrix Guard stationed by the door, before he made his way back to the docking bay. Commander Sicarius and a rather plain-looking baseline man fell into step behind him. 

The warmth and comfort of your presence faded with each thunderous step, changing into cold rage.

A tiny woman met him outside of a shuttle similar to the one in which you’d first arrived. He nodded to her.

“Captain Takahashi.”

He saw her shiver slightly at the expression on his face, though she quickly regained her composure. “Lord Guilliman.”

He glanced toward the shuttle. “My thanks for bringing me what I asked for. I sincerely hope you will not be reprimanded by your superiors.”

“I would endure any level of reprimand necessary for this. Besides,” her dark eyes glittered coldly, “prisoners are often ‘shot while trying to escape’.”

She snapped an order into her comm-link and the ramp of the shuttle opened. There was a muffled shriek as a bound and gagged figure tumbled down and into the docking bay. He’d been stripped to his underclothes, and his skin already bore numerous mottled bruises.

The Captain eyed him. “The Lady Heir managed to land a few good hits before he threw her off.”

Guilliman felt a surge of pride. “She is stronger than she looks.”

“In more ways than one.” The Captain saluted. “My Lord, I leave you with your baggage. I trust you’ll share whatever information he divulges. I am most interested in whoever gave him his orders.”

“As am I.”

The Captain strode up the ramp without a second glance at the bound man, even when he whimpered something that sounded like her name. A second later the ramp closed, and the shuttle departed.

Guilliman walked slowly toward the man, stretching to his full, armored height and never breaking eye contact. The pathetic figure immediately soiled himself. 

“Interrogator,” Guilliman motioned to the unassuming baseline, “how long before you extract every secret this insect has to give?”

The man cocked his head, the implants where his eyes used to be whirring, “Oh, an hour at most, my Lord. Faster, if you don’t mind more… extensive damage.”

“Proceed.”

“And when I am finished, my Lord? What shall I do with what remains?”

Guilliman stared down, unblinking, at the screaming form of Lord O’Rourke, the man who’d come so close to extinguishing one of the only lights in his life.

“The lower decks are always in need of more servitors.”

@remembrancer-of-heresy @solspina @sleepyfan-blog @moodymisty @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@bispecsual @kit-williams @cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond @adhd-fandom-hyperfocus @lemon-russ

@justeverythingnothingelse @scriberye @bleedingichorhearts @c-u-c-koo-4-40k @mooniequeen

@passionofthesith @noncon-photobomb @sinistermojo @b-rabbitboss

[lostintransist]

More on you hating getting frustrated with the guys when they care for you. Apologies for any spelling errors I'm on mobile and fighting a migraine.

Gender neutral reader.

Find Simon and John here.

Nikto: Every piece of him had tuned into caring for you. If you could catch him doing it you would ask him to stop. Okay maybe not stop but slow down. Nikto learned early into sharing space with you that you could wield a wooden spoon as well as any grandmother and weren't cowed by any of his hard stares.

The first time he tried to coax you from the kitchen so he could finish cooking for you hadn't gone well.

"Andre if you touch me one more time with the intention of moving me from my task I might stab you." You hadn't even turned from the counter where you chopped carrots.

He glared at you, arguing with the parts of him he didn't dare name. He worried that by naming them they would stay.

Toss her into bed and tie her there the snarling voice rippled across the internal atmosphere.

Nikto would never tie you down, he doubted he could when with consent. The remembrance of restraints brought gooseflesh to any of his body not cemented with scar tissue.

"Glaring at me won't change the fact I'm going to continue to care for myself and you."

How the hell did you always know?

Turning your head and seeing him you turn fully and lightly place your hands on his hips, one place he has agreed you can touch without permission. Your voice holds the lilt of a laugh that soothes him when you speak again.

"Your stares hold weight my love." Lifting one hand you hover over his cheek until he nods. Holding him as if he is a precious treasure you continue. "If I let you care for me like this how long until paranoid Nikto doesn't let me out the front door?"

Nikto opened his mouth to argue the point but the single lift of your brow stops him. You did have a point.

"Go back to making my life easier in ways that make me question what changed love and leave me to my cooking."

Nikto acquiesced to your ask, slightly annoyed that he had been found out. He dropped a kiss to your waiting lips before slipping from the kitchen.

Kyle: The drive home from the hardware store has a decidedly different feel than the drive there.

"What's on your mind Kyle?" You question as you crane your neck to ensure you were safe to pull out of the parking lot.

"I'm upset with you."

Always pragmatic your lover is. Your face screws up as you think over the past few days of his leave. No fights, good intimate times, and a general lull into happiness give you no clues as to why he is angry now.

"Care to share with the class?" You glance at him as you drive catching nothing more than his broody nose scrunch.

"Why did you let the employee help you but not me?"

That would never have crossed your mind as to a reason to be upset.

"Why did I let the person being paid to haul heavy things move the stones for me instead of my boyfriend who can't hurt himself while on leave?"

"Dammit that is not what I am saying and you know it," Kyle snaps at you.

Focused on driving as you are the only response you can give is the tightneing of your fingers on the steering wheel.

"Kyle I am going to ask you to stop yelling at me. I don't understand why you are upset and I don't like the volume you are choosing. We can discuss this or you can let it go." The calm tone you chose carries an undercurrent of your stress.

He takes three deep breaths as you merge onto the freeway. You wouldn't have a chance to look at him now. Good. Maybe this dicussion could end before you got home and everything would settle back into the normal joy of having him home.

"You fight me on who gets to pay for dinner," he lifts a finger in your peripherals.

Cutting in before he can continue you defend yourself, "I work hard and like splitting the bill or taking turns."

The flat stare of his eyes has you curling your shoulder into your neck to hide from his gaze.

"You don't like gifts except on your birthday and Christmas," he rushes ahead before you can interject again. "You never let me help around the house when I am home. Yes, except for the garbage because you hate the garbage. If I were to pay for a spa day for you I bet I would get yelled at for wasting my money."

"I wouldn't yell at you until after..." you mutter to yourself.

"The point is that you refuse to let me be apart of this relationship and I'm hurt by it. Why won't you let me love you? It makes me think you don't want me."

That statement shook you. It rattled out a deep thought from your brain, one that you and your therapist had been digging to find.

Tears sprang to your eyes as the realization rocked through you. If you let him in you worried that Kyle would leave. If you let him start to take care of you he would abandon you like everyone did. The instant you learned to lean he would disappear as if he had never been.

Blinking to stay focused on the road you took the next closest exit.

"I'm having a revelation, I can talk about this once I can pull over."

Kyle slides a hand onto your thigh, squeezing lightly as you tense your muscles under his touch. The first parking lot you found is where you parked and the sobbing overtook you. It took a long time for you to breathe past the tumult of emotions you had uncovered. He holds you as well as the car allows until you can sit up, back muscles pulling sharply. Damn getting old was hard on a body.

"I...uh...I realized my brain says I can't lean on you, or let you do anything for me because if you do then you will disappear like everyone else has on me."

Kyle looks shattered.

"Baby..."

You rush to reassure him.

"It's not you, and I know," you point to your forehead, "You wouldn't... that if you didn't come home it has nothing to do with me. But me, little me," you point to the lowest point on the back of your head "they don't know that yet. I will email my therapist when I get home and we will start working on it."

Gripping his hand in one of yours you pepper it with kisses.

"I'm so sorry I made you feel so bad. I want you. I want you so badly it aches to breathe sometimes. I need a bit of time to work on this, can you do me a favor?"

Kyle looks at you, tears rimming his eyes.

"Anything."

"Can you tell me when letting you do something for me would help you feel loved?" The sentence sounded weird but you needed to know he would tell you when you were getting to far into your own head about things.

Kissing the tip of your nose Kyle rested his forehead against yours.

"I would do everything for you if you would let me. But can we start here? Will you let me drive us home?" He whispers the words to you.

Your mind violently rejects the idea, some deep piece of you rebelling at the thought.

"Yeah. I think that can be a place we start."

A/N: Oooh I liked these ones! LMK if you would like to see any more of these.

HC Masterlist | Masterlist

[neteyamsilly]

i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 5

summary ;; What could Jake do? How was he supposed to fight when he had no concrete opponent? PART 4 | PART 6 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; jake is so depressing here. i also took liberty with his character and the reasonings for his decisions in atwow, sorry in case if thats not how you see him LMAO happy reading 💞 please excuse my mistakes if you see any! ‼ I DONT TAKE TAG REQUESTS ANYMORE ‼

“One chance, Jakesuli. You will only have one chance. Use it well. Our Great Mother favors you, that we know. But this favor hasn’t been granted to you. It has been granted to my granddaughter.”

“I won’t fail.” Not again. 

“What does failing mean, I wonder. Would you fail if you take her soul back from her happiest? Or would you fail if you let her have the peace our Great Mother has laid her into?” 

“I will get my daughter back. This isn’t her time. If Eywa has given me this chance, then she thinks the same as me.”

“You will take that honor from her, then?” Mo’at was being cryptic, but Jake saw through the exterior of the neutral Tsahik into an exhausted, mourning grandmother. “She was the daughter of Toruk Makto, and he was her last shadow.”

It came back to Jake in a gut-churning realization, it was his shadow that had fallen over you from the light of the torches on the walls as you’d given your last breath. It was his shadow. “No,” he refused, adamantly. “She will get to achieve greater honors of her own than that. I won’t be the one defining her ending.” The last bead of your songcord having his name, Toruk Makto’s name, was supremely wrong to him. He would not accept this fate for you. 

“Very well, then.” Secretly, she was pleased with him. With his answer. “Get going. As I said. One chance.”  

Jake would never be able to get used to the magnificence that was Vitraya Ramunong, or, the Tree of Souls. To him, Pandora itself was a marvel already too good to be true that he’d fallen in love with, and abandoned his own race for, there was no getting used to the beauty for a human like him who’d only found it once in neon lights, ever. He could reach the end of his natural lifespan in this body and still there would be much left to discover. That’s why Jake was more vulnerable to one of the beating hearts of Eywa in the shape of a giant, glowing willow tree. 

No Na’vi was immune to the soul-purifying, all-consuming, yet being-dwarfing peace enveloping one’s very spirit, in a cradling hug as if they were nothing but a newborn in their mother’s arms. In here, only one fact mattered: they were childrens of Eywa, all of them dear, all of them seen, all of them safe and sound, including him, once alien to Eywa the way Earth was related to Pandora. Everything spoke to him here in a language he didn’t understand, but could respond to, again, in a language he didn’t understand, his soul doing the communicating. 

Jake was also a child here, Eywa’s chosen child. 

And he had come to her door for the most difficult request of his life, feeling like he was asking his mother for money right after he had crashed their car, unable to look her in the eye and expecting the biggest of scoldings for his shamelessness. 

This was nothing like asking for her assistance against the sky people, back then, he had agency, power, the clans backing him up, Toruk. If Eywa didn’t hear him, he would fight until the last drop of blood in his body was spent anyway, he was ready.

Now, he had nothing. 

Nothing to offer in return, not one concrete reason as to why he should have his daughter back other than being a desperate father with nowhere to return to other than the mercy of the Great Mother. He just wanted his child. Nothing mattered. 

Not how and why Quaritch had spawned right under his nose with an avatar body, not how they could even slither in without detection, not the threat of what the sky people could bring upon their heads with that — nothing, not now. Nothing mattered until he saw this through. 

Jake had found the will to quite literally tear himself from your side like nail from flesh only when you’d stabilized enough. Stabilized, as in, the faintest rise and fall of your ribcage Neteyam had to stare from where he was sitting like a sentinel for a full minute to spot, a tideless, still ocean only moving with whiffs of wind, his own breathing unnoticeable — to match yours, or to silence the sounds in his own body to hear better, Jake didn’t know. 

No sky person was allowed to take over from Mo’at and Kiri. Norm had told Jake none of this made sense, if the bullet had nicked the bowels enough and the dirt leaked into the bloodstream, the possibility of sepsis was eventual, and if it didn’t, you had bled too much anyway, a blood transfusion was necessary, and the internal organs... — Christ, the amount of bad end scenarios Jake had been subjected to was as if they were telling him to open a grave for you anyway. Tsahik had scoffed into their faces. The way of healing was something none of them would see, she had scoffed. Now ally, or not. You can’t fill a cup that’s already full. Jake was in a hopeless need for water into wine kind of miracle, and honestly, he wasn’t complaining. 

Leaving High Camp behind to set off on a journey calling for only him was one of the hardest things he’d done yet, the silhouette of you lying motionless, his family scattered around the tent, shadowed in their own mourning, folded into themselves was burned into his mind, glimpses of their pain visible from eclipses of light occasionally falling on their faces. A sight he never wanted to see again in his life if he could help it. It was a frosted, iron-thorned hand squishing his heart into ground meat. 

Tuk, ever the stingy monopolizer, had brought her favorite toys to scatter around you because she thought they’d comfort you the way they comforted her, had tried snuggling with your unconscious body and was warned by Kiri only to hold your hand instead. She had taken to playing with your fingers, the depressive gloom of years beyond her age crooked on her. Jake couldn’t stand the sight of the little girl telling you bedtime stories he and Neytiri used to, for a moment only, he could pretend you were just going along with your sister’s whims and smiling with your eyes closed as you listened. 

Kiri, buzzing around to change the bandage-leaves that soaked up some sort of sickly black colored puss every couple hours, had explained to him the salve they used on you was getting the infection and the splinters of the bullet they couldn’t get out of your body, which had turned the color of your blood into that — but the thing was, given the dwelling of the woodsprite in your mouth, they couldn’t feed you the porridge-like mix to speed up the process of blood production in the bone marrow, and she was exerting herself looking for some other way. 

Before he’d left the tent for good, she had handed him the bullet— or, the biggest piece of it they’d taken out of your body, it was a mere pursed and shriveled, tiny metal. The exhausted girl had stammered when explaining that whatever they’d hit you with, had broken into shards inside you upon impact, creating severe lacerations and lethal hemorrhage that they’d worked tirelessly to pick out.

Jake had stared hollowly at it for the longest time. This small thing. It was such a small thing that took you from him. 

The sentence that sent you away was also as small, and damning as this bullet. ‘Go.’   

Kiri had seen it sink in his face, closing her five-fingered hand on his palm, on the bullet. “You should get going, dad,” she’d said. “We’re okay here.”

Jake had taken one last look. At Neytiri wiping your body to clean all the congealed blood. At Tuk holding your hand. At Kiri trying to fill in shoes bigger than her feet. At you lying down with trinkets surrounding you like funeral flowers. And forced his body to keep moving when all he wanted to do was stay. 

He’d then heard Lo’ak complaining to his older brother outside the tent, “How can he be so cold?” The heaviness was getting to the boy, agitated and misapprehending. But he was always this way, if something was out of his control, the inability to act to change it manifested as frustration, blind anger. “Why is he so… unresponsive? Emotionless?”

Jake would have let it slide had it been about something else, but his children running their mouths not knowing he was a hair's breadth away from going clinically insane had gotten to him. He was burning alive. 

“You think I don’t care, boy?” He emerged from the tent like some last boss, initially not caring he’d scared the brothers. “You think I don’t feel at all? My own child dying in the same arms I used to hold her as a baby — you think that doesn’t faze me?”

Neteyam, the mediator, or rather, the blame-taker, ran to his little brother’s rescue, the latter too flabbergasted to form any words yet. “Dad, he doesn’t mean—”

“I know exactly what he means.” When the anger subsided, Jake sighed with the weariness of an ancient man. The flames had died before they could climb, he was too exhausted for it. Honesty and trust, as Neytiri had said. 

Having lost everything, having nothing to lose, and having a lot to lose were somehow simultaneously the same thing to Jake in the predicament he’d found himself in. “I know how you see me. You only know me as the person I want to show you.” 

Lo’ak’s go-to answer was presented to Jake on a silver platter. “Sorry, sir.”

It wasn’t what he wanted to hear at all. Jake wasn’t trying to get Lo’ak to bow his head. “Don’t apologize—” He cut himself short, licking his chapped lips, and after rubbing his face, he’d put his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “Lo’ak. Son. I feel this, alright? Of course I do. I’m your father.” He shook him gently, feeling the words weren’t reaching him, who was just staring at something on the ground off to the side. “There’s no greater pain a parent can go through in life than losing his child. You can’t understand what this means right now—what it’s doing to me. You will only know when you become a father yourself.” He gently tapped Lo’ak on the chin so he would raise his head and look at him in the eye already. And when he did, Jake said what he said slowly, hoarsely. “But know this. Know I will lose myself if I lose you, or any of your siblings.” He turned to Neteyam as well, who was watching in full alert mode. “I’m fighting not to lose my sanity as we speak.”

Lo’ak swallowed, unsure and weirded out to hear something like this for the first time in his life. Jake didn’t blame him. He was never emotionally upfront or honest before, not even used to it, more awkward with it than his boys were. But none of that mattered. Not anymore, after what happened to you because of his shortcomings. “You just look so composed—“

“I have to be.” Jake shook his head, eyelids hanging heavy, his whole head was heavy. “I just can’t crumble under it, do you understand? I have to be strong. I can’t lose myself in it. Your sister needs me. You need me. To be strong.” He took his hands off the boy’s shoulders, putting a palm on his cheek and patting a few, fatherly times before backing off altogether. “Never say that I don’t care. Never. I might not show it—and it’s a father’s duty not to show it, so my family will have a stable anchor. Get what I’m saying?” 

Lo’ak looked reassured, lighter. So that’s what Neytiri had meant. “How… how can I help?”

His youngest son’s inclination to get to the root of the problem and pump out solutions was in consanguineous with his inability to stop and wait, uncomfortable in his skin when he couldn’t do anything to improve the situation and was confronted with the intimacy of having to feel, always wanting to act. Lo’ak was like Jake in that way. Awkward when it came to communication. Dishonest with themselves.  

“Stay here.” Jake said, right from his heart. “Stay safe. I don’t wish for anything else in this world.”

Lo’ak’s eyes softened, and as the father, Jake felt the renewal of the bond between them, saw the understanding in his youngest son, saw something else than the guilt and regret over being caught after mischief, for once. “I’m sorry, dad.”

“Don’t apologize.” He shared a meaningful look with him, trying to convey, again, his apology wasn’t what he wanted. Yet, his sons were defaulted to saying sorry half the time they spoke to him nowadays. Jake was understanding the severity of it, too much too late. Lo’ak nodded, ears tipped down slightly.

Then he turned to the eldest. “Neteyam—”

But he opened his mouth before Jake could say anything else. Ready. Always on his feet. “Yes, I will—”

Jake clicked his tongue. “Rest.”

Neteyam was about to say yes to whatever he was told to do, as always, but stopped right in the middle of it, voice catching in his throat, eyes blinking in confusion. “What?”

“Rest.” 

“But—”

“Rest, Neteyam, I won’t tell you again.”

God knows he needed it. Neteyam looked like he’d been having night terrors for days, accumulated anxiety making him jumpy. “Sorry, sir.”

“Stop—“ Jake caught himself before he could raise his voice. “Why are you apologizing?”

Neteyam didn’t talk for a while. But when he did, he was looking up at him underneath his lashes, unable to keep eye contact for more than two seconds. “It’s my fault.”

“Bro,” Lo’ak said, a pitiful objection.

Jake knew where this was going. “What is?” 

“I should have been there.” He pressed his mouth into a thin line before furrowing his brow, closing his eyes. Jake knew what he was seeing, repeated over and over again in his mind. “I should have known right away when I couldn’t catch up to her. I could have prevented it. It’s my responsibility.” One tear slipped by as he hung his head. “My fault.”

There it is.

Jake had told him before. “You’re the older brother, you gotta act like it.” — even though you and him were more like affable twins than older brother and younger sister that he never had to explicitly be a guardian to you like he was to Lo’ak, he had to be thinking this was his biggest failure. Neteyam was just reflecting what he’d been taught, the standards his father was holding him up to. Of course the boy had been overthinking it to the point where he was the catalyst to the event by not predicting your fakeout. 

“No,” Jake rasped, after a beat. “This is on me first, and the sky people who got to her second. And that’s the end of the story.”

Neteyam, up until this point, had to bear half the blame, if not the rest of it, for the consequences of his siblings’ actions. Upon receiving this kind of answer, he startled with an incredulous gasp and full stare at Jake. “But I—”

“It’s not about you, Neteyam,” Jake explained, although the words were harsh, he had done his best to soften the impact. “I did this. Blame me, okay?”

‘How could I?’ was written in neon letters over the boy’s head even if he didn’t say anything. Too good-natured. He idolized Jake a lot more than the man deserved. “Mother was… she was… She is grieving, she doesn’t mean it.”

“You gotta stop making excuses for people, boy. Especially when they’re in the right.” A smile pulled on his lips, but died as it was born. “I pushed and pushed until we reached the edge, thinking there was never an edge at all. I should have known better. I should have been better. This is between me and your sister, and that’s why it is me who has to go to the Tree of Souls.” 

And he’d left, but not before pulling his boys into his chest, cradling the back of their heads against himself, the smell of home repulsing instead of comforting. Prickles on his skin was the comfort he got from being able to hug his children when you were absent. It didn’t feel right. 

He missed you dearly, an aching, gaping hole in his very being that only grew larger as he saw what you left behind half-completed or messy like you’d stood up and gone off for a minute to come back to it later — 

The unmade pallet from the night of your Iknimaya argument that Jake had shed tears on when he’d seen the state of it, having the signs of someone getting up from it like you would be returning to go back to sleep any second.

The unfinished bark plate you had set aside to eat later and fought Lo’ak not to touch it. a squabble Jake had to break before you started wasting food by throwing it at each other. 

The stack of fruits you’d gathered that you never shared except for Neytiri sometimes. 

The half-carved cup you were working on because the regular cups weren’t big enough for your water needs and you didn’t like to refill it about three times until you were satisfied. 

The incomplete anklet you were making out of rainbow beads for Tuk that was confidential to everyone but Jake, who knew from observing you, of course — you were missing a couple colors that you just couldn’t seem to find, nagging his head off to just let you roam around farther and there was no danger as the sky people couldn’t get in the vortex.  

The little animal doodles you scratched at your side of the tent when you couldn’t sleep at nights, waking Jake up in the process every single time to listen until your breathing evened out as sleep retook you in its arms again, because he was bodily programmed to startle awake at one single rustle in his living quarters from his Marine days and fell into old habits after the return of the sky people, he knew you had developed insomnia from being uncomfortable at High Camp, longing for your hammock cocooned in the safety and comfort of the forest.

And the dumb romance novels you had taken from the humans that you, Kiri and Tuk giggled about at girl’s nights reading out loud, Spider invited as an honorary guest at times, just so you could tease Kiri about him and annoy your brothers that they weren’t allowed in, but the human boy was. 

All of them had no owner now. Neither of your family members could look at them, your ghost would appear in precious memories beside your belongings if they looked too much. He didn't need to concentrate for a phantom of you to appear, you were everywhere he looked, and even now, as the gently pulsating lavender humming, a song from Eywa herself, right underneath the veinlike, labyrinthine roots was the cool summer rain on Jake’s sizzling skin, all he could see was your first communion with Eywa in his arms while Neytiri formed the tsaheylu, the clan spread all around them in celebration. 

“You’ve called, and I’ve answered,” he greeted in positivity. “I think this is the most direct you’ve been with me in a long while.”

He didn’t know if it was Eywa or you he was saying this to. He genuinely didn’t know. 

Kneeling, and putting his arms on the mossy, thick root, he looked up to see the woodsprites swaying and floating in the air. He reached for his braid, letting the squirming nerve-endings coil around the white-cored lavender thread closest to him, taking in the presence of Eywa, all around yet nowhere at all, but listening. No sign of you. Was he supposed to talk like this? Just like this? Was he not allowed to see you? 

Jake had to admit he had been harboring the tiniest expectation of meeting you somehow, or hearing your voice through the connection like he did with a Tree of Voices when Mo’at had cryptically informed him of his chance. But this was it? 

If he failed, this would be it. 

“I guess this isn’t all that different,” he said out loud, instead of thinking inwards where the confusion flew. “It’s been like this for a while now, you and I. You talk, I don’t hear you. I talk, you don’t hear me. We throw the same ball at each other only for it to bounce back. Monologuing to a tree is the same thing, except it doesn’t talk back like you do.” 

He looked up and around, there was nothing else to do. The air was the same as it always was in here. Always accommodating to what each Na’vi found comforting. “The last time I came here like this was to ask for Eywa’s help in the last stand against sky people. I told her I would fight either way, I knew that’s why she’d chosen me. All my life, all I’ve done was fight. Even when I wasn’t able to, I was fighting lesser battles with the excuse of not having anything to fight for. It’s all I’ve known. All I’ve ever done. It’s what I was best at.” His brow twitched, and Jake tried to keep his composure, not because he didn’t want anybody to see, no, it was to keep his shit together so he didn’t fuck this up. He had to be honest. His pride was the last thing he needed in his way at the moment. 

“You were born to a different man. To a changed man. To a father who could let go because he thought his family was safe. You got to meet the man I used to be when my reason for fighting came back from my star. I know you don’t like that person — you can’t — couldn’t get used to him. I know.” 

From the discomfort, his fingers dug into the moss first, and found the bark of the root, his fist curling on it next. “But I had to keep fighting.” He softly brought his fist back on the root. “The strong prey on the weak, that’s just how things are. That’s how I had it on my star. And my kids — you, you are weak, and it’s not an insult — it’s not me criticizing, Jesus, you are just children, and there’s a war on your damn heads. That’s what I mean. That’s what I’ve always meant. It’s natural that you are weak, Eywa was kind enough to let you be soft. Not Earth, though, never Earth.” 

Jake had to clench his teeth and bite the anger into the inside of his mouth to not be boiled alive — not to let it reach to your side. He let out a soundless snarl. “You would never be ready for the cruelty of Earth, I would never wish that upon any of you. But it was brought to you. Right at your doorstep. I couldn’t protect you from it by hugs and kisses. You wouldn’t be safe from a gun extended to you by extending a branch in return. No.” 

He reached and caressed the glowing thread, brows furrowed. “I did what I thought was right to prepare you. Every single one of you. I was making you tough. I had to. To protect you. And of course there would be clashing along the way, it’s what happens between parent and child. We fight. We fight like cats and dogs for dominance. You try me to show strength. I stand my ground to let you know you gotta do better.” 

He had fired those sentences with incoherent speed, and when he got to the end of it, Jake got choked up. Stopped for a moment, took a breath. Blinking several times, his tone became vulnerable, he didn’t have anyone in front of him, but he tore away his gaze anyway. “Somewhere along the way, things just… Without me noticing, everything…” He sighed through his nose, his voice nothing but a whisper. “I fought more battles than I fought for my family. I thought I was doing my job as a father when I didn’t even know shit about being a father.” 

A couple seconds floated by, and his gaze was stolen by a lone woodsprite descending down until it staggered on the fist he had against the root. The shine of it reflected from the mistiness of his eyes. His lower lip slightly trembled at the thought of it being you. This little woodsprite. You? 

“The thing is, I’m lost, sweetheart,” he admitted quietly, small, shaky, not taking his eyes off the woodsprite. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I sit here, I look back, and think why I keep fighting. We could have migrated. Looked for a new Hometree. Another forest. Left the humans alone. Or made peace. A treaty. Something. None of your lives had to be sullied by war. Yet I chose this. I chose to fight, as I ‘ve always done, because now I had something to fight for. And the fighting wasn’t limited to them, I fought Neteyam, I fought Lo’ak, I fought you, my own kids, and I didn’t even know.” 

He reached for it with his other hand, tentatively, scared that it would fly away with the slightest contact. But he was able to touch the top of the woodsprite ever so slightly, the little zap making all the hair on his body stand up. Jake swallowed thickly, his whole head on fire. “I don’t know what to do. I just miss you. I miss you so much, sweet girl. I wish you would scream at me. Say you hate me for all I care. Anything. Hate me until the day you die, but do it with all of your family surrounding you in old age, in peace. I would be content knowing you are under the same sky as me. But I’m forgetting your voice already, and I—” He held back a violent sob, hissed to not let it out, and groaned, getting angry at himself for the emotions. He shut his eyes tightly, willing away the tears. “I wish I could say these to your face. I wish I could see you one last time, smiling at me.”

Having everything to lose. Having lost everything. Having nothing to lose. Three different meanings had coiled around each other like snakes to become one singular outcome in linear relation of cause-and-effect through you. It wasn’t a cycle.

Having something to fight for. Having nothing left to fight for. Having nothing to fight for. You were everything. Everything. What could Jake do? How was he supposed to fight when he had no concrete opponent? 

“I see you.”

The voice — your voice, albeit much, much younger, almost made him jump. When his eyes shot open, Jake was in a different location. He knew this place. The creek away from the village he and his family often frequented. 

The twilight penumbra of the eclipse dimmed the shadows embracing the forest, but the ethereally glowing lights of all colors illuminated and got reflected from the water as if it was a mirror. Above and all around him were lazily dancing fireflies — or, rather, bioluminescent bugs he didn’t know the names of, tiny stars floating in the air like glitter. It was magical.

Jake realized with aching melancholy that this was the first time he’d taken you out on an eclipse to show you the beauty of the forest on a special father-daughter date. The exact memory.  

The breath that left him was shaky as he felt the presence sitting right beside him, in the corner of his vision, he saw the ripples on the shining water made by swinging legs. 

Jake froze for a second. Unmoving. Not looking at all — because if this was a dream, or a hallucination, he wouldn’t be able to bear it. His breathing got louder, more labored, the log underneath his hands was so realistically textured and damp. If he looked. If he looked, you would disappear. That’s how he felt. 

He was supposed to talk. But now, his ribcage was holding the words hostage, burning with the strain of the pile-up. 

“But I’m sad you don’t see me,” you said, and he was shaken by hearing your voice yet again, remembering the moment he found himself here, how he’d heard — ‘I see you’. “You don’t even want to look at me.”

So much hurt and vulnerability in that sentence that it left him breathless. 

It all happened in a matter of seconds. Him launched into his own turmoil racking his brain about how Quaritch was back as an avatar, ignoring to look at you to protect his composure and just trying to think, think — think, of a plan, of a how, of what to do. You calling after him once Neytiri, you and he arrived at High Camp after dodging Quaritch’s men. Him purposefully walking away because he needed to cool off and not to explode on you right there and there.  

That whole time, Jake hadn’t looked at you. If he did, he would have seen you needed help.

He shattered, all of his walls crumbling down, stripped down to bare despair. 

“Oh sweetheart.” Before he knew it, he had wrapped his arms around you in a crushing hug, basically snatching you off from where you were sitting and on his lap, and your warmth, your pulse, your tangible existence wrenched a shiver out of him — and he buried his face to the little crook of your neck, taking your scent in, hiding his trembling face and the quiver of his arms by holding you tight. You were here. As your younger self, no older than eight, but he had you. Not bloody and battered in his arms, but alive, so alive. “Oh sweet girl, my sweet girl… I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He kissed the side of your head, felt the real tickle of your hair against his face, blessed with the soothe of his child’s smell. “I see you. Of course I see you. I’ve always seen you.” 

The snowflake-frail snivel followed by your sobbing sniffle broke his heart into pieces. “You’re a liar.” He shook his head, hugging you tighter. “You’re mean to me. You’re so mean to me.”

“I’m sorry.” That was all he could say. All he could do with his thrashing soul smoldering at the wetness of your tears on his shoulder. “I am mean. I’m sorry… You’re right, I’m sorry.” 

“It hurt so much.” You wailed. “It hurt a lot.” 

Jake began to caress your head with an awkward, clumsy, panicked hand, disturbed as to if you meant the moment of your death — at him pressing on the wound with all he had to stop the bleeding, or he and your strained relationship in general. “I know, sweetheart,” he said anyway, a stone clogging his throat. He didn’t try to explain, or tell you why, didn’t argue that it wasn’t what he meant to do. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He had you in his arms. “I know. I know.” 

You wouldn’t get to be younger than this. And maybe, he would never get to see you be older, either. The thought crumpled his face like some piece of paper. Jake just wanted to hold you. And when you wrapped your little arms around him too, freely crying in his arms, a couple tears escaped his eyes as well, he didn’t know what kind of face he was making, perhaps it was better that you didn’t see him crumble. 

In the middle of it somewhere, he realized that you were younger because it was your inner child that needed this, she was more honest — more open with Jake. It caused him to sway with you back and forth, ribcage hurting with each breath. And you let it all out, clinging to him. 

“I love you, always,” he whispered, watching the bioluminescent bugs, when you were calmer and had fallen silent on his chest, not wanting to let him go and just listening to his heartbeat. “Even if I don’t show it — especially when I don’t show it. You are loved, my sweet girl, more than you know. More than you’ll ever know. More than I can show.” He looked down at the top of your head, agonized. “But I want to try. I want to show you more, moving forward.”

Knowing what he was insinuating, “But it’s nice here,” you said, voice thick and coarse from crying. You still didn’t pull back to look at him. Both of you, from the start of this, never looked at one another. Not once. Embarrassed and shameful to be honest, Jake thought. That pride you two shared. “You’re not mean to me here.”

But he needed to see you. You needed to be seen. So, as gently as he could, he unwrapped your arms around him, and took your baby cheeks in his hands, and looked you in the eyes. Another tear slipped from him. “You been listenin’ to me, right sweetheart? From the start?” You nodded adorably. You wouldn’t have said oel ngati kameie and accepted to let him see you if you hadn’t felt his true intentions and heart through him pouring it all out at the Tree of Souls. “I’m hiding a lot of things. But I want to be open with you. You wanna know the secret why I’m… mean?” You nodded again, more reluctant this time. “It’s because I’m scared.”

You gasped, genuinely lost and shocked, and he tried not to smile at the purity, the innocence. “You? You’re scared?”

“All the damn time,” he whispered, landing a kiss on your temple, his opposite thumb tracing a loving line on your other temple. “Every day. Every night.”

“But you’re Toruk Makto. You’re never scared.”

“I’m also a dad,” he said sorrowfully, as if he was giving out a secret. “And it’s precisely why I’m scared. I’m scared for you. For your siblings. Of losing you. It turns into anger. Anger turns into irreparable damage. Things I can’t take back.”

In the blink of an eye, you were back to your real age. For some reason he couldn’t quite grasp, you had shed the exterior of your childhood. But he didn’t mind, didn’t let you off his lap. 

“Don’t be scared, I’m here,” you said, putting your own small palm on his cheek, upset by the fact that he was feeling like that in the first place rather than whatever explanation he had. Your response was also childish, but he leaned into your touch anyway, comforted regardless, even if you were already gone — for this moment, he could ignore that no, you weren’t here at all. “If you told us, we would have been more careful not to make you sad.” 

Ah, he was being lectured on communication by his kid. It had a certain flavor of humbleness to it. Jake adored it nonetheless. “I know,” he said, “I’m sorry. I won’t be mean anymore.”

“That’s a lie.”

Jake couldn’t stop the laugh, though it was tottering. “Yeah, it is. But I promise you that I’ll never hurt you again.”

“That’s a lie too. Wasn’t it you who said not to make promises you can’t keep?”

“Alright, smartypants, let me rephrase it then,” the little glimpses of your brash self made him happy. “I will never intentionally hurt you, and if I end up doing so, unknowingly, I will always make it up to you. No exceptions.” 

You were acting uninterested, but stole intrigued glances at him. “How are you gonna make it up to me?”

“I’ll let you choose, how does that sound?” Jake tapped your nose. “In return, if I don’t know and haven’t taken the first step, you’ll have to tell me outright what I did.”

You deadpanned. “But I always do.”

“No, you don’t.” He raised one of his eyebrows. “You become passive-aggressive when you’re annoyed and pick fights with me.”

“That’s not—”

“Sweetheart.” 

“Okay, fine.” You huffed. The normalcy had made him forget just what he was doing here. “But you get angry.”

“What I get angry at is—” He cut himself off with a tongue click. “Not important. I do get angry. But at sincere honesty, us just talking it out, I could never get angry at that. Is the difference clear?”

“I think it is.” You were apprehensive about something, your fingers on his neck flexing as if you wanted to pull them back and break the hug. “But you have to promise.”

“I promise.” And then, Jake remembered, a new fire hardening his face, not in anger, but determination. “And speaking of which. I would never. Ever. Not in a million years would get angry or blame you for getting hurt to that degree — for others, humans, avatars, whoever and whatever the hell they are, hurting you, I could never get mad at you for it. Do you understand me? Your safety is the most important to me. I could never hate you for it.” His voice dropped down to a softer, gentler tone just above a whisper. “There is nothing in this world that’ll make me hate you. Nothing. I will love you through the most heinous crimes and in inexcusable deeds, you will find forgiveness in me even if there’s nobody left, that’s a father’s heart. Forever and always, I am with you.” He touched his forehead, and then yours. “I see you.”

You avoided eye contact. 

Ah, yes, the famous emotional awkwardness. He was sort of aware his feelings had reached you, you just didn’t know what to say. Jake hadn’t been like this with you for the longest time. So, he decided to make you more comfortable. “Yes I will get mad at you for breaking curfew, and yes, we might stop talking for a while and beef about the dumbest things if the fight is too intense — but always, always come to me when something is wrong. I will drop everything without hesitation.” He leaned in a bit to catch your wayward stare. “Got it?”

You murmured. “Okay.”

“Are we clear?”

You murmured once more. “Yeah.”

“Repeat it, then.”

There was something between cringing and unwillingness on your face, but at his pointed look, you sighed, giving in. “Always come to you if something’s wrong even if we’re fighting.”

“That’s right,” he affirmed, encouraging to let you know this wasn’t embarrassing. “What else?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Dad will always love you.” He nudged you, noting the flick of your ears in happiness when he’d said it. “Come on, say it.”

You didn’t look at him when you said it, but your voice was light. “Dad will always love me…”

“Dad will never hate you.”

Sheepishness took over, making Jake smile. “Dad will never hate me.”

“And. Come talk to me about it if I’ve ever hurt you without noticing so I can make it up to you.”

“Always go to you if I’m hurt and you’re unaware of it.”

“That’s right,” in this form as well, he gave your temple another kiss, heart soaring at your beautiful smile he had been dying to see. “Good girl.”

“You’re giving me a lot of power.” 

“Nothing my mighty hunter can’t handle.” 

The smile on your face died down. It came to Jake right away what had gone wrong. “Sweetheart—” “I didn’t mean that. You know—” But you didn’t know. Jake had to stop trying to make it easier on himself. “I’m proud of you. I’m so proud of you. About everything. About the ikran, I’m so goddamn proud. I said it, and I can’t take that back, I was angry and I was trying reverse psychology — you know what, it doesn’t matter. But you are my mighty hunter. Will always be.”

You got confident a bit, but were still testing the waters. “Well I proved I am.”

“Yes, you did,” he rejoiced, no rejection or doubt whatsoever. “Message received, Lima Charlie.”

You giggled freely, joyfully at the recognition, and Jake ached again remembering how much he’d missed that carefree, precious thing, he swore pixie dust was in it. You slipped from his lap to sit crossed-legged beside him, and he instantly missed being able to hold you close. “Wish you were there to see me.”

“Me too, sweet girl.” Your Iknimaya was a disaster. A long-passed, sacred tradition broken wasn’t as important to him as it was to Neytiri — but he knew she longed to see you complete it, by your side, as eagerly as he did. And you had been alone in your pride, when he knew from a very young age, you had been the most excited for it. Everything had been ruined and there was nothing he could do to undo it. “Will you tell me about it?”

The phantom of pensiveness on his face hadn’t quite registered with you yet, getting excited to tell him all about it like nothing had happened the moment you knew Jake wanted to know. As if you weren’t dead. As if nothing was wrong. “Well first of all, I broke Neteyam’s record.”

A mournful smile tugged on his lips. “Did you now?”

“Hell yeah!” You started gesturing with your arms. “It took, like, two minutes? One minute? Too easy.”

“You know easy means the ikran didn’t give you much of a fight, right?”

“Or, or.” One finger was raised up at him to raise another option. “I was too skilled.” 

“The ikran might have been meh about you.” Jake teased. “You sure it chose you? Or did you just chase it down and it was stuck with you?”

“That’s so wrong!” He threw his head back to laugh at your outburst. “He was watching me get there the whole time! Like, from the start. His eye was on me, I just know it. You’re just jealous you didn’t get Bob like I got Jack. I was badass.”

That made him pause. “Jack?”

“Yeah, his name’s Jack.”

He couldn’t imagine Neytiri’s reaction to the blandest name imaginable, oh god. “Why?”

“Named him after you.” You tipped your head at him, raising your brows. “It’s healing, you know. He listens to me without questioning. He’s also very sweet. Unlike a certain someone.” 

“Oh you little shit—” 

“I didn’t say anything.” Raising your hands in defense first, you crossed your arms on your chest next. “Certain someone can mean anyone. It can mean Lo’jack—”

“Lo’jack, really? Really?” Jake half-snorted, half-scoffed. “This a new one after Lovak?”

“Jackiri—”

“Jackiri is pretty sweet, c’mon now,” he gave a blank stare. “Hope you’re not gonna say Jackeyam.”

“Jacktirey?” You asked, undecided. “She’s an anklebiter.”

“Oh, for sure.” 

“Could be Jack the Ripper, Bojack Horseman, Jack-in-a-box. Jack-o-lantern.”

“All people, of course.”

“Yeah, all people.” You snapped your fingers in mock-remembrance. “Hit the road Jack.” 

“Oh wow, even him?” Jake lowered his voice, leaning towards you, mocking astonishment. “Legendary figure, that guy.”

“Jack of All Trades.”

“Well, that ikran really seems to be one to me.”

“I know, right?” You stopped, and he saw that thought process, and before he could open his mouth, you blurted it out. “Unlike a certain someone I know.”

“You punk.” Jake pushed you lightly by your shoulder. “You’re pushin’ it.”

You smiled with all your teeth at him, with hands on your calves, leaning down to act cute, and Jake could pretend this was normal. That he’d fixed everything. And all was right in the world now that you were laughing with him — he’d made you smile. . 

But suddenly you looked scared, looking at something over his shoulder, shrunken pupils focusing on him and whatever it was rapidly. It kicked him awake from his delusion. He tensed, tail jumping upwards, straight as a rod. “What is it, sweetheart? What’s wrong?”

Your breath hitched, and the next thing he knew, you had pushed him away, and he was falling towards the water. The last thing he saw was only a blur of you — the bioluminescent bugs became shooting stars with a thread of glow left behind them, the whole world tilted, but he didn’t hit the water, instead, he rolled down the small slope he had to climb to reach the tree. 

Disoriented, he saw the root was almost split in half — bullet marks, a cloud of splinters and debris was flying around where he used to be sitting. 

A lone avatar just ahead. Having made it all the way to the Tree of Souls. He didn’t know where this man had come from. 

Heart picking up and roaring in his ears, all Jake could think about was, One chance. 

He hadn’t even spoken to you properly yet, hadn’t said all the things he wanted to, hadn't even gotten your word, and this man — this son of a bitch — humans had taken you once again. 

Once again. 

You will only have one chance. 

“Lucky asshole,” the man looked at him behind the barrel of the long assault rifle. “Gonna make you pay for what you pulled yesterday.”

Your ethereal smile going up in smokes at the back of his head, Jake saw red.  

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[seungfl0wer]

*𝑩𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝑻𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈*

Pairing: Jisung x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Merman!Jisung, Human!Reader, Egg Laying?, Oral (F), Multiple Orgasms, NonHuman!Dicks(2), Lots of Yapping, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Sex In Water, Claws, Sorry for any mistakes or missing tags

Find The Halloween Master List Here

-🎃

You walked your way up and down the sandy area. Collecting samples and picking up any trash you had come by. As you looked out into the vast waters taking a deep breath you smile. “This never gets old” you said contently. The beautiful sunrise across the dancing waters. You sat your bag down crouching down at the water. You took a few more samples before dipping your toes in. You shivered from the water being cool compared to the hot sand and rocks.

You sighed one more time before getting up. You loved being by the water, it was always so calming to you that’s why you became a marine biologist. Even the creepiest of things in the water just fascinated you. You took the few samples heading back to your house just a few minutes away. You could see the waters from your house and oh how you wanted to be closer. You brewed your cup of tea sitting at your desk looking over the samples. This is how must of your days went. Doing scans of the area, getting samples, and going into work.

A reason you were getting samples from your own waters was simple well.. a little myth. See your grandmother told you stories how these waters held much different creatures. How this was a safe haven for them and how it was one of the biggest spawning points for a lot of them. She showed you pictures of bigger turtles laying their eggs there because no predators would attack them here. In almost every photo though there were always a few people swimming in the waters. When you asked her she would just chuckle telling you how “they’re there to, for spawn. For mating season.” Which you always just chocked up to her being old and making bad jokes. Although she would always add to it as you both sat looking out into the water “I think your soulmates out there.” It always made you laugh “You saying my future loves gonna be a fish?”

Today started the first day of mating season, you saw as a few turtles made their climb to the shore. You snapped a few pictures as you watched with a smile. That smile almost dropped surprised to see someone swimming. “Hey! Be careful out there! The current can be bad!” You yelled out. He didn’t pay no mind diving into the water as he swam towards you. ‘How’s he holding his breath that long?’ You asked yourself ‘must be a diver’ you rationalized it.

“Hey there pretty lady.” He said with a little smile pushing his wet hair back.

You blushed at his compliment looking over him. He was super handsome, toned upper body, pretty brown eyes that just seemed to sparkle as they looked at you. He smiled at you and you felt like you could melt.

“Hello, earth to y/n” he said splashing a bit of water at you.

You shook your head a bit meeting his eyes with that cute smile of his “how’d you know my name?” You ask confused.

“I knew your Gran, she used to talk about you a lot.” He said smile growing wider.

“Really?” You said with a bit of a smile. You missed your Gran and knowing someone else kept her company it made you smile.

“She ever mention me?” He asked cocking his head to the side.

“I don’t think so I think I’d remember” you chuckled. “Whatcha doing in the water?” You asked.

“Just waiting for you.” He said with a small smile.

“Waiting for me? Why though?” You said even more confused now.

“Because you’re my soulmate silly” he said with a giggle. He swam closer to you reaching out for your hand. “Why don’t you come in?” He asked taking your hand in his.

Your mind flickered like a light going on and off. Eyes blinking as you tried to think back to what Gran had always told you. “Your soulmates out there.”

“It’s dangerous to swim out there, especially.. especially right now with it being spawn season.” You said a bit nervously.

He shook his head “it can be but you got me” he said that smile plastered across his face.

Oh how your heart just dripped into a puddle. “I- I don’t know” you said softly.

“Trust me. I’ll keep you safe.” He said pulling you a bit to the water.

Your mind was still blinking at his words from earlier you never noticed how his hand was a bit scaly. How it had small webbing between his fingers or the sharp nails he had.

“Come on beautiful, you study these waters everyday but never go in them. Trust me ok?” He said eyes smiling at you.

“Ok, ok. You’re right. I just- circumstances are a bit weird” you said blinking.

“I guess so huh? Well think of this as our first date” he said before pulling you into the water with him.

He instantly wrapped your legs around him before slinking his arms around you. You shivered at the cold water making you cling to him even more. “I got you” he coo’d softly before swimming backwards with you. You hadn’t noticed how far away you already from shore “I’m Jisung by the way” he said trying to keep your attention on him.

“How are you such a good swimmer?” You asked. “Are you like a professional diver?”

Your words made him chuckle “could say that, you mean to tell me Gran never told you anything about these waters?”

You shook your head “I mean she’d tell me stories about there being creatures or something in them” you said with a shrug.

“She’s right you know.” He said looking over your face.

“Yeah, and big foot is real too” you said with a chuckle.

He shook his head he couldn’t believe you didn’t believe. I mean you were literally in his arms how could you not notice? “Y/n if you don’t believe me then just look down.” He said with a grin.

“For wh-“ you started to say as you looked down seeing his pretty blue green tail moving. Your eyes went wide letting go of him quickly. Almost panicky.

“Hey hey, stop you’re alright.” Jisung tried calming you not wanting you to slip away in such deep waters. “I promise I’m not gonna hurt you” he said that same sweet grin coming back making you ease a little.

“There yeah go” he said with a chuckle.

“You’re a mermaid?” You asked feeling stupid for asking.

“No. I’m a merman. Gosh” he said rolling his eyes playfully.

“This can’t be real” you said softly.

“Oh it’s very real. We keep these waters safe and clean for the other animals. My mom actually.. uhm well had me here” he said with a chuckle.

Then you remembered those pictures with people in the background “Gran really wasn’t lying?” You said in almost a whisper.

“Nope” he said.

“So she wasn’t lying when she said ‘I had a soulmate out here?’ I really thought she was just making fun of me, saying I’m gonna be with a fish.” You rambled.

“I mean she wasn’t lying. You are my soulmate. And I am technically a fish” he said with another chuckle.

A few moments went by with only the sound of water filling the emptiness in. He lifted your head to look at him “I’m lucky to have someone like you. So caring of our water. So.. beautiful” he said softly lips barely grazing yours. “Y/n..” he said barely audible before leaning in finally meeting your lips. He kissed you lovingly but you could feel the need in his touch. “Y/n. I.. I need you.” He said softly against your lips as his hands started to roam your body.

His tongue darted into your mouth his saliva tasted sweet. You moaned into the kiss a warm feeling coming over you as you he depending the kiss. You felt your body heating up, your core felt hot, every touch becoming more intense. Jisung pulled away his before attaching to your neck nipping at it as he pulled your pants and panties off. “Trust me?” He asked. The only thing you could do is nod. Your mind was gone, only thing floating through it was need. Need for him. He pulled you close before pulling you under the water, before you could panic he kissed you once again. The sweetness even more intense.

You moved your body trying to pull yourself to the surface. He shook his head “breath” he said rubbing your back softly. You shook your head before gasping out for air. To your surprise you could breathe the confused expression on your face made him chuckle a bit. “When I kissed you, my salvia helps makes it so you can breath. It also is an Aphrodisiac.” He said with a smirk.

“Jisung” you said in almost a groan.

“Don’t worry by beautiful I’m gonna take perfect care of you.” He said kissing you again. “Let yourself go, let me make you feel so good” he said before moving down your body.

His tongue flicked at your clit making your body arch into his touch. His tongue wasn’t like humans it was long, almost pointy at the end. You wondered what his cock would look like if it was just as different. He used his fingers pulling your folds apart as he pushed his tongue deep into your cunt. He wiggled it inside you his nose brushing against your clit. The feeling would have probably been weird if you weren’t so horny. You moaned out gripping onto his hair, your hips bucking into him. He moaned at the feeling of your legs coming around his head pushing him deeper into you. His salvia must be working at your cunt because you felt the most horny you’ve ever felt.

Your body was shaking, the feeling of your release quickly coming over you. Your eyes scrunched shut as you felt his fingers come up to toy with your clit more. Your body arched, moaning loudly, his tongue hitting your g-spot now. “Jisung! I’m gonna cum!” You almost screamed out body shaking as you came harder than you ever had. He moaned lapping up all your juices before coming up to kiss you. His kiss was hungry, his fingers grazed against your folds pushing them into you. “Fuck- y/n can you feel it?” He said against your lips.

“You’re my soulmate, we’re made for each other” he said fingered curling into you as he worked your core. “You’re all mine yeah?” He said eyes locking with yours. You nod eyes flickering as his fingers are pounding their way at you. “Say it- please I wa- need you to say it please” you begged.

“I’m your jisung- all yours. Soulmates” you cried out feeling yourself close to another orgasm.

“Gonna cum for me again hmm?” He said leaning his head into your neck. “Cum for me beautiful, cum on my fingers then you can cum on my cock.” He said against your ear.

“Fuck!” You moaned out. You felt him shift a bit digging his teeth into your neck softly. Your orgasm crashing over you.

He kissed you his eyes half as he pulled away “it’s gonna feel a little different than a human but, so much better” he said his tip touching at your entrance.

You looked down eyes going wide “you have 2?!” You say loudly making him chuckle a bit.

“Oh yeah, one’s kinda more like your clit more sensitive. The other is for breeding and the main one. Does that make sense?” He asked looking up at you.

His rambling was really cute “y-yeah, are you gonna?”

“Use both of them? I normally don’t but if you want them both” he said softly.

“No no- do- do whatever you normally do.” You said looking over his face.

He nodded with that he pushed himself into you. You both let out whimpers and moans at the feeling his head hitting so far inside you. His cock was like his tongue almost long with a skinny pointy like head. Almost like a tentacle. He wrapped his arms around you as he moved fast in and out of you. His sharp nails digging into your hips as he pounds into you. Your head falling back legs wrapping tightly around him. “Y-you’re so fucking deep” you moaned out.

He nodded, face looked so dazed. “Shit- I’m really not gonna last long. Your body is so warm. And you’re squeezing me so fucking much-“ he moaned out. He leaned in kissing you once more “y/n I feel like I’m addicted to you- everything about you I just crave. Fuck- your lips are so fucking warm and soft. Just like your body. I love you my soulmate- fuck I love you!” He rambled.

“I love- I love you to jisung!” You cried out feeling your orgasm about to flood over you. Your hand moved on its own wrapping around the smaller sensitive cock. His hips stuttered as you did “fuck!” He whimpered out. His movement became sloppy before the smaller cock came making his body almost stop. His hands gripped harder at your sides moaning loudly against you.

“Y/n- fuck- I can’t believe you-“ he whimpered. “I’m gonna fucking breed you my little mate. Gonna make you feel as good as you make me feel yeah? Fuck- y/n” he moaned his cock pushing deep inside you. Pushing past your cervix directly into your womb before you felt a small lump feeling pushing through you. The feeling making your body quiver cumming around him.

“What’s” you stutter out at the feeling.

“I’m- fuck- feeling you full of our eggs. You’re gonna be such a pretty momma” he said.

“Eggs??” You say looking at him with wide eyes.

“Yeah. This is our first mating so there’s not gonna be a lot till your body can get use to it. But you’ll carry my eggs till they can swim from you” he explained as you felt another few push into you.

He groaned as the last one pushed past, finally cumming hard inside of you. Fertilizer the eggs and filling you full of him. Your tummy becoming a little bigger at the feeling as the cum spilled out your belly size went down a bit.

“Jisung” you said softly.

“Don’t worry my love. Everything is how it should be” he said kissing you lovingly.

“You can still live on land and go about your day. But you can also join me here and join me back in my home. If you want you can always just live freely with me.” He said with a smile. “You don’t have to decide anything right now though. I’m just so happy I finally have you.” He said his eyes full of hearts.

“Sorry I talk so much” he said with a chuckle. “I’ve just wanted to talk to you for so long.” He continued making you laugh.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s cute when you talk.” You kissed him softly. “I feel like I’ve known you forever.” You said.

He smiled wide “because we’re soulmates silly. Like I said we were made for each other”

You kissed him again “the world really made my soulmate a fish huh?” You chuckled making him laugh with you.

“Yeah, but isn’t it just perfect?” He said in a teasing tone.

“Yeah. Perfect” you said with a smile

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Halloween Taglist: @ldysmfrst @kissesmellow21 @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan

[cellophanejpeg]

smoking hot | s. hanta

s: You find out pro hero Cellophane is a hypocrite. w: smoking, suggestive themes, hints at depression n: "smoking is unattractive" well, maybe for YOU, but that panel of sero smoking sent me on a spiral alright

dividers by @/saradika-graphics | beta read by jemifiss | read on ao3

The music is still loud from outside the club and you slightly nod your head to it, the last bit of drunkenness trying to hold tight onto you. To be honest, you don’t even know why you came. You’re not exactly 21 anymore, so drinking is no longer an option – not if you want to wake up feeling like dying the next day. A drink or two is enough for the night.

However, the comfort of a cigarette is very welcome.

The breeze of a summer night is also very welcome as you step outside, already lighting the tobacco stick between your lips.

The moment your eyes find him, your stomach does that thing where it thinks you’re riding a rollercoaster. It flips and sinks to your knees, and your heart follows the dance by either beating too hard, or skipping a beat. He’s outside the restaurant that’s just beside the club, with some people you don’t recognize. He’s dressed down, stripped of his hero suit, the first time you see him in civilian clothes you think. But that’s not what catches your eyes.

Between Sero’s index and middle finger, there’s a cigarette that he brings to his lips once in a while. Before you can think, your legs are bringing you to him.

You still remember the first time he just showed up at the roof of your apartment building. 

The weather was still pleasant  every time you went up there to take a smoke – your roommate hated when you smoked in the apartment, so the rooftop was your go-to –, and not the heat that makes you sweat even if you aren't moving. Sero landed on the concrete floor with a thud and, at first, it startled you, but when you recognized the uniform, you realized it was a pro hero.

The pro hero that you'd just seen on the TV last night.

He didn't notice you at first. So you just watched as he removed his helmet with a sigh and tried to fix his hair, the muscles on his back very visible under the tight fabric of the black-yellow-white suit. You watched as he sat down on the edge of the roof, legs dangling from it. Much like you were sitting. When he finally noticed he shared a space with you, he widened his eyes and cleared his throat.

“Sorry, Miss,” he said, standing up from his spot, “didn’t know I wasn’t alone.”

You laughed softly, “Please don’t call me that.”

Then, you offered a cigarette from your pack, which led to a scolding from a man who seemed to have just given a course about smoking and drinking to a bunch of high schoolers.

“You know those things are bad for your health, right?”

“Mhm.” You made a show of taking a long drag and inhaling the smoke, “My grandmother died from lung cancer. She used to smoke since she was seventeen.”

Sero widened his eyes, but you just looked up at him with hooded eyes and an amused smile on your lips.

“Then, why…?” He didn't really need to finish his question for you to shrug and answer,

“Life.” You look away, feeling the wind blow on your face.

“You could–”

“Die?” You interrupt him, smiling. “I could fall off this edge and die tonight.”

“Please don't,” he says, sitting down again, this time a little bit closer to you, “my shift just ended.”

You snort, earning a little laugh from him.

The next night, he showed up on the roof again. He probably thought you wouldn’t be there, but his eyes looked for you before he took his helmet off. You watched as he nodded and sat down on the edge of the roof, still not as close to you as you secretly wanted.

“You never told me your name,” he said, nonchalantly, as if he's commenting about the weather.

“You never asked.” You shrugged, offering your pack of cigarettes again, as if he hadn’t gone through that whole lecture the night before. He looks at it, then looks back at you, shaking his head.

The routine went on for about two months: you two would hang out on the rooftop of your apartment building, usually at night, and make small talk. You’d never admit it, but you googled him one night, before he arrived, and noticed his personal instagram was private. Only the professional account was public, and the pictures were either from charity events, or promotional merchandise pictures. 

He seemed like a textbook, perfect hero.

Until you saw him smoking.

“Prohero Cellophane spotted being a hypocrite,” you say when you approach, crossing your arms and tilting your head to the side. And then you mirror his own words, with an impression of his voice, “You know those things are bad for your health, right?”

Sero turns around and pauses for a second when he realizes it’s you. A slick smile curves his lips and his eyes are hooded as they run through your body. You chose a tighter dress than you’re used to wearing, and his eyes stop at your cleavage for so long that you’re almost self conscious about it. But then, he speaks and you just know he’s not sober.

“What are you, a stalker?” His voice is much deeper than it usually is and it makes you tingle.

“I could ask you the same.” You blow the smoke from your lips, “I was sad, so my friend brought me to the club to cheer me up.”

“What were you sad for?” Sero is now fully facing you, a hand inside his pocket, the other bringing the cigarette to lips again.

You shrug, “Life.”

He takes his time, sucking the smoke of the cigarette, eyes still on you, and you can’t help but think he looks so sexy right now. You don’t know if it’s the cigarette, or the clothes, or the fact he’s undressing you with his eyes, but he looks so fucking hot. And, not for the first time, you think about kissing him, about touching him, about running your hands on his chest, his abdomen until–

“Dude, are you introducing us, or…?” The blonde man that’s with him interrupts your thoughts. Sero clears his throat and swallows, seeming to also come back to real life.

“These are Kaminari, Sato and Jirou,” he says, stepping to the side so his friends are visible to you.

You say your name, waving awkwardly.

“You know, I am kinda hurt you’ve never accepted my Malboros. Here I was, thinking you were actually thinking about my health.”

Sero laughs, “That watermelon shit isn’t for me.”

You pause, feigning offense.

“Well.” You sniff, jokingly, “I’ll have you know I’ve moved to mint. Is that okay with you?”

The smile that graces his features is so infuriatingly hot.

“Yeah. That’s better.”

The sexual tension is so palpable and the moment of silence between you two is so loud, you can feel it in your heartbeat. It seems to last forever and just a few seconds at the same time, and all you want to do is spend time with this guy. You don’t want to go back to your friend, you really don’t want to break eye contact, but you still say,

“I should probably go back. My friend might be looking for me.”

“Right,” Sero clears his throat, “be careful on your way back.”

You smile at him, “Be careful when you land on my roof later. Or you can use the door, like a normal person. Apartment 7B.”

Your heart races as you turn around to walk back to the club. You can’t believe you invited him over like that. Well, it’s an open invitation, but still.

“Dude,” Kaminari says, watching you walk away.

“Shut up.” Sero sighs, closing his eyes and cringing.

“She was flirting with you,” Jirou laughs, “You know that, right?”

“Fuck.”

“That was a very straightforward invitation,” Sato laughs.

Sero groans, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Fuck.”

…

Sero's hand shakes as he raises it to knock on your apartment door. He doesn't know how long he stood there, on the rooftop, trying to hype himself, trying to sober up enough so he can see you.

He never thought this would happen. He's been wanting to make a move on you for weeks, but you've only seen him when he's on hero duty. He didn't want you to think prohero Cellophane was a creep.

Somehow, you catching him smoking isn't much better.

He knocked three times, after releasing a breath. Apartment 7B, you said. It wasn't hard for him to find it, given he took a shortcut coming from the roof. The longer you took to open the door, the more his confidence faded. What if you changed your mind? What if you're looking at him through the peephole, watching as he fusses over his hair and thinking he looks ridiculous? What if–

The door opens, interrupting his inner questions, and you show up with the sleepiest face on Earth. Your hair is messy and you're wearing what seems are pajama pants and an extra large Gorillaz T-shirt.

“You took so long, I'm not even horny anymore,” you say, rubbing your eye to chase the sleep away.

His heart sinks, “Sorry. I can come back some other–”

“No.” You grab his hand and pull him inside your apartment, closing the door behind you. Sero doesn't even have time to look around his apartment before you're pulling him towards your bedroom. You walk to a nearby laundry basket and toss him a pair of sweatpants and get on the bed, sighing.

“It's a man's sweats,” you say when you notice his hesitation, “hurry up, the bed's getting cold.”

Confusion must be clear on his face, because you laugh and lean on your elbow, smiling at him.

“Having second thoughts?” you joke, but when he doesn't laugh, you sit up on the bed, “We can have sex in the morning, if you want. I'm sorry I'm not–”

“No, it's just–” Sero has the urge to laugh at the situation. He's known you for like three months, but he feels like it's been ages. He’s strangely comfortable around you. And it makes him want to know you more. “Your roommate is a guy?”

You laugh, lying back down on the mattress, watching as he starts to undress. An act so intimate, but you don't feel the need to look away.

“Why, you jealous?”

A pang of guilt stabs him in the heart. Is he jealous?

“God, you're hot.” You mumble as he takes his shirt off and tosses it on your desk. That makes him smile.

Sero accepts your invitation to lie down as you lift the blankets in the bed. He gets on it, the fabric of the sheets stained with your warmth and smell. His head hits the pillow and, only now, he realizes how tired he is. Your warm hands snake through his torso, running your palms on his chest and abdomen, before wrapping around his waist and pulling him closer, your body flush with his.

“They're my brother's.” Your quiet voice interrupts the moment.

“What?”

“The sweatpants. They're my brother's.”

He laughs softly and wraps his arm around you, pulling you even closer. Your head tucks under his chin and you inhale his scent: alcohol, cigarettes, and a faint hint of cologne. It takes you only a few seconds before you're asleep again.

Sero's eyes are heavy as well, but he tries to fight sleep, wanting to spend as much time with you. You're so magnetic, he can't help it but to stay with you for as long as he can.

But sleep comes to him as quickly as it comes to you and he can't wait to wake up tomorrow.

me at smoker sero:

[ghouldump]

Girlll did you delete your last fic? Whyyyy I was about to read it😭😭

Your Best Nightmare | Lestat de Lioncourt x Reader

ෆ being away from your companion, as both of you take on stardom, can be frustrating, but it is very rewarding to see your maker for the first time in months.

(anon asked for bi!reader w/ crossdressing lestat and if possible some nsfw content)

girl, somebody messaged me and said it was weird and i was confused like you watched a show with vampires killing people like bffr, but ig i’ll repost bc somebody else asked too 😂

The crowd seemed more lively than ever, screaming the frightening lyrics, but paid them no mind. Humans, despite having dominion over nearly every species, were quite stupid. They all had things they liked, they idolized, and in many of their eyes, it didn't take much to seem trustworthy to them. A quick photo of you holding the cheek of a beautiful mortal, and overnight, you were a national treasure — proof that vampires were not a danger.

Vampires, although people of the night, were only bound by their circumstances, and if there were others, they deserved the privilege to reveal themselves. It was cute, really, the same songs that were once deemed monstrous, alarming, and cultish, were now innovative, you were now an icon, like your lover, the vampire Lestat, you were simply adding your contribution to rock culture. However, they didn't even realize, all of them were wrong. They couldn't be more wrong about everything.

I'm your best nightmare,” you sang, as the audience joined you.

And then it happened, you were in my arms

Your lips on my throat- your hands on my, on my...

Two bodies together, the intimate sin

The pain and the pleasure, could do mortals in

How could you know, what I'm thinking of

To me lust can be, as beautiful as love

Here tonight, your pure heart and soul

Untainted passion should have no control

She asked me if I...

I told her the truth

I said "I'm sorry, it takes me, longer than you"

She smiled and blushed, and continued to grind

And promised to make me, go out of my mind

Returning her promise, she, came to a halt

Licking my lips, I, tasted her salt

Then she sat up and gasped and clutched at her breast

I thought she was coming- I'd never have guessed that

As she grew pale, as white as a flower

She collapsed to the floor and was dead in an hour

Hearing the humans singing along to the deranged song, you nearly laughed. Too foolish to grasp the very lyrics, escaping their mouths. A song about your very first hunt, alone. Delilah, the name itself brought a nostalgic tingle to your tongue.

You remember the night utterly, from the time you stumbled out of your coffin, to you crawling back in. You sat alone at the bar, The Dungeon, a frequent spot for tourists when she caught your eye. Dancing against her friend, they both laughed loudly, singing along to the music. Her skin was flawless, her makeup dark, with an incredibly flattering dress, hugging her curves beautifuly.

Just from staring alone, you almost held your throat from how thirsty you were. Standing up, you approached her, her friend nudging her, their eyes shifting to you.

"Hey," she smiled, briefly biting her lip.

"Hey," you repeated, peering into her thoughts, not a single piece was left unattainable from your view.

"Are you here alone?" she asked you, her friend whispering that she was going back to their group of friends, to give her privacy.

"I'm afraid I am," you smiled, as she moved closer, tilting her head.

"Then I'll have to keep you company"

"I'm very difficult to entertain"

"That's because you haven't met me," she giggled.

"Ah, I see, and what is the name of the woman I've waited for?" you asked her.

"Delilah"

"Very beautiful-

"Please, I was named after my grandmother," she said, smiling as you chuckled.

"I'm Y/n," you said, holding out your hand, shaking hers.

"Would you like to get out of here? Maybe have some fun at my place?" you asked, leaning closer, to glamour her.

"Yes, I'd love to," she smiled.

"Good girl, why don't you tell your friends that you're headed back to your hotel for tonight, because you're tired, and I'll meet you outside," you winked, watching as she went to the group of friends.

It wasn't much longer before you were both nude, her moans only continued to arouse your longing appetite. Her gentle kisses, and promises to rock your world, as her orgasm drew near — it only made you want to rip her to pieces more. Holding her soft hips, you felt your fangs emerging before you began to suck from her breast. She panicked for only a moment, choosing to follow along with your erotic behavior.

"I'm coming," she cried, grinding against your thigh. Her breathing hitched, feeling your cool fingers near her glistening pearl.

"You taste just as good as you look," you whispered, staring down, as you hovered over her.

"Your turn," she giggled, her eyes still shut. If only she had opened her lovely raven eyes, to see the monster in front of her. Blood dripping from your mouth, as you stared at her, seeing her for nothing more than she could ever be to you, food.

"Unfortunately, you won't get the honor, tonight, as your life is coming to an end," you said, and just as she was able to open her eyes, you lunged forward.

Draining her, you could sense her heartbeat, hear her thoughts, and feel the sensation of her nails clawing into your back. It was all euphoric, you were a monster, you could admit, and you loved every bit of the thrill, of experiencing such an occasion, with stunning humans.

As the final song came to an end, you waved, bowing at the arena of people, the music fading, as the stage lowered, giving the illusion that you were disappearing. Going backstage, you thanked your team for working so hard for the tour, before you changed clothing — and headed to your hotel. You intended to catch your flight tonight, but with the concert ending so late, you couldn't take the risk, as the sun was bound to rise in the next hour or two.

Although you felt impatient, you would have to wait another night, before you could catch the private jet to New Orleans, to him. Lestat de Lioncourt, your muse, maker, lover, and companion. He turned you nearly 40 years ago and you have been inseparable ever since.

With the both of you busy with your careers, the two of you promised that it would be fine to have flings on the side, as long as there were no feelings attached — not that you would be able to feel anything for another anyway. You had yet to meet another as passionate, as he.

As the driver stopped the car, you quickly made your way into the building, as the sunrise began to peak from behind the buildings.

"Good morning, miss Y/n," the receptionist smiled, batting her eyelashes as you looked her way.

"Morning," you winked, before entering the elevator.

Going to your floor, you stopped for a moment, seeing Amanda, your assistant, standing at the door, it only meant one thing, groupies. Your team sometimes selected women and men, bringing them to your room. Your publicists emphasized how important it was for you to not be seen hunting, and you were simply playing your role.

"Thank you, Amanda, why don't you go get some rest?" you spoke, grinning as she jumped, glancing over at you.

"Yes, of course, sleep well," she nodded, practically running to the elevator.

Opening the door, you squinted, trying to allow your eyes to adjust to the dim room. The blackout curtains blocking any potential sunshine. Hearing the sound of the faucet running in the bathroom, you entered and shut the door. Taking note that you couldn't hear any thoughts, you looked around for a handbag or wallet, to identify the person, just as the bathroom door opened.

Gasping, you couldn't contain the large smile, as Lestat exited the bathroom, he wore a black bralette, cheeky knickers, and a silk robe on top. His blond waves looked even more luscious than usual, with a light pink gloss on his lips and blush.

"You came to California, to see me," you said, trying to swallow the emotions bubbling inside. You felt so elated, seeing him for the first time in months.

"I couldn't go another day away from you, chéri," he confessed, as you moved closer, embracing him. Mumbling a low, "baby", while he held you near, placing a kiss on your lips.

"You look so pretty," you giggled, as he pecked your lips again.

"I had to look my best to get your attention, I've seen the woman that come to your shows," he smirked.

"They don't stand a chance, next to you," you said, as he stared longingly into your eyes.

"I missed you," he finally said.

"I missed you too," you said, as those words were all he needed to hear before his lips were connected to yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth.

Biting down on your lip, he groaned, lifting you in the air, walking over to the bed, before breaking the kiss — as you peeled each article of clothing away, your eyes set on his piercing blue ones.

"This is so cute," your eyes twinkle, as he removed the robe, the obvious bulge in his panties catching your attention. Sitting on the bed, in front of him, he went to his knees. Kissing your lips, he moved down your neck, holding your waist, as you arched your back. "Love," you moaned, feeling his breath against your skin, causing goosebumps.

Laying back, you bit your lip, as his mouth traveled south. Kissing your glistening pearl, before hungrily consuming her. Your fingers found their way to his blonde tresses. Your eyes could hardly stay open, as his tongue repeatedly lapped over your cunt.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you moaned loudly, "I'm so close," you said, the orgasm escaping, as his long fingers moved up to your breast - caressing them.

"I wasn't sure how much longer I could take, being away from you," he spoke, as you agreed, pulling him close to kiss his lips, smearing the lip gloss on his pale skin.

"Take this off, please," You tugged on the bralette, you needed every part of him, bare.

As he stood, you grinned, exploring his toned body. He kept his usual sultry eye contact, as he slowly removed the lingerie, purposely teasing you.

"Lestat," you whined, giggling.

"Patience is a virtue, ma chéri," he smirked, as he approached you, bound to another night of sharing his endless love with you.

"Fuck Patience, I need you now," you groaned, making him laugh.

"Anything for you"

in the original post, i explained that all of the upcoming posts won't be released in a particular order, since i’m working on everything in my drafts.

[dropsnectar]

Pollen and Potions: Bee-men x Afab!reader

PART FOUR

So I know I said this part would have smut but it would just mess with the pacing, so the whole next section is where you will find your spice. This part is a little shorter for that reason. Anyway, I hope you like!

When you woke up, you felt incredibly warm. Your legs were tangled up with… someone elses? You would say it was someone else but human skin didn’t feel like this. It was firm and a bit fuzzy, but not like hair.  Your nose was being tickled by… fur? Whatever it was smelled amazing. 

You recognized this scent. You opened your eyes to Lyith’s round, sleeping face. His impossibly big eyes were closed, revealing his long blonde lashes. His expression was serene, and a bit of drool had escaped his half open mouth. Your sleep-addled brain vibrated with excitement. He was so cute you could just kiss him… 

Nope! Awake brain was working now, bringing some clarity to your head. Lyith and Rena had made a habit of covering your face in kisses but it had all been platonic. Excessive affection was a Bee-men trait. Probably? You thought back to yesterday, when he had kissed you and you had kissed him… was that truly platonic? 

There was a heat in your stomach, butterflies whenever he would hang off of you or tease… A part of you wanted to face these feelings but you weren’t ready yet. After all, how could a bee-men be with a human? You had heard of monster-human relations being something that could happen, but was their species even compatible with you? Was there a future there?

“You're thinking awfully hard for 8 in the morning.” Lyith breathed next to you. 

 Your awareness returned to you, and you were very cognizant of the fact that he had been holding you in his sleep. You pulled yourself back a bit so you couldn’t feel his breath on your face. He narrowed his eyes and his lip jutted out. A childish but cute pattern of his.

“W-What are you doing in my house?”

His mouth twitched. “You are a sick person. You should have someone to look after you. I’m  glad though, you only slept for a day this time.”

You looked at him, eyes squinting, “Are you okay though? Don’t you need to be at the hive for your… bee duties?”

Lyith sputtered at you, his body rocking with laughter. “And tell me, what are “bee duties”, Little witch?”

Your cheeks heated and you sat up, crossing arms over your chest.

“I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be in trouble, is all. What exactly is your duty in the hive anyway?”

Lyith stared up at you under his long lashes. “I am a forager. A scholar. An ambassador who goes to human town to get our supplies. Actually..”

He brought himself up and stretched out his wings. They seemed sturdy enough not to get too bothered by him laying on them all night.

“.. I used to know your grandmother. She used to let me forager her garden. Of course, she was a lot more sparing with her magic, so it was nothing like what you do.” He gave you a pointed look, “But she taught me how to speak human. An interesting person, your grandmother. We used to buy seeds for flower monsters off her. She must have had quite a life.”

You stared at him in surprise. Your grandmother had always been somewhat of a stereotypical grandmother. She’d spoil you and laugh at your jokes, leave little candies in your pocket when you weren’t looking. You had never imagined her to be the type of person to deal with Flower Monsters of all things. It also explained why Lyith seemed so trusting of you, off the bat.

“Hey Lyith?” You breathed out, trying not to think about how your legs were still touching.

“Yes?”

“Do you want some breakfast?”

***

After that, you saw Lyith almost everyday. He made a point of stopping to talk to you every time he visited your garden. Once a week he would take you to see Rena and you would work more magic over the plants. As the spring progressed into summer, the flowers changed. You learned that your magic, while creating magical nectar, only stayed within the plant and not the soil. You were right in your worry that a different approach was needed.

You met a lot more of the hive, as on their days off, some Bee-men would come and watch you work on the flowers. Not all of them were able to speak human, but they communicated their gratitude through sharing their emotions. As you experienced this more and more, you started to pick up on what could even be counted as them asking you questions. You’d try to answer in kind, putting a hand on their arm or shoulder and trying to push images or feelings at them. This worked only half the time, but when it did, the Be-men would look so pleased they would dance. 

Rena, had always seemed a bit jealous by this.

“Why don’t you speak to us like that? We speak human for your convenience you know. Aren’t I closer to you then some random creature?”

“Don’t call your hive mates ' creature’, that's rude.”

Rena would get up in your face, throwing her arms around your shoulders and touch her nose to yours. In your mind you would feel her jealousy. A possessiveness that you couldn’t help but feel a little giddy about. You tried to straighten out your feelings, giving her a kiss on the cheek. Then, you’d try to project some calm, warm energy at her. She just looked at you, sighing.

“You humans are a lot more dense than I thought.”

 Then she’d buzz off to deliver her nectar to the hive, leaving you behind in the company of her Hive mates. Lyith and Rena had been giving you more space lately when it came to your magic. You’d take more breaks, and often were given time to socialize. The Bee-mens youngest hive mate, Haven had grown especially fond of your company recently. He was your friend in gossip. 

Rena and Lyith had a habit of glossing over the issues of the hive, but Haven was very different. He would answer any question you could think of. You had learned that Rena and Lyith were actually pretty high up there in the social hierarchy, as they were both scholars who taught the rest of the hive in their free time. 

He was also very honest about the struggles of the hive.

“It's been about two decades since the last Queen died. We were having some issues with ambassadors from hives from the northern hive when a squirmish broke out. A lot of Bee-men died that day. Several of the Queen's favorite drones passed on and upon hearing the news her heart gave out.”

“Immediately? She wasn’t sick?”

“Do humans get sick before they die of heartbreak? For us it is impossible. Our bonds are our happiness. Without each other, our home isn’t a home, but an empty structure…” Haven trailed off, his expression wistful.

“But what was the squirmish about? I thought Bee-men were a friendly species.”

“You see, the two Queens had been sisters. The Northern Queen never liked our late matriarch and had been up to some mischief. She had convinced the Bunny Hybrids and the werewolves to move out of our territory. Eventually, the flower monsters left as well, and all the magic in the area just… disappeared. And Queens usually travel and make their own hives, or pick up abandoned ones. We’ve been waiting for so long!”

“Thats got to be hard. I mean, your guyses population can’t grow right?”

Haven looked at you weird.

“It’s more than that! Our Queens Pheromones give our magic structure! Without a Queen our magic grows weak and it's harder to communicate! Even making our honey properly becomes difficult because our grasp of our magic slips. We are so lucky we found you, little witch! Your magic is so easy to convert. I told you, you are a blessing!”

“But if you guys haven't been able to make honey properly for a while, how have you survived?”

“We haven’t. It's like your mana sickness. Sometimes our magic just eats us up.” You stared at Haven, your stomach turning. Haven looked at you sadly. “You should know this. Your Lyith and Rena have been sheltering you way too much. You're basically part of the hive at this point.”

You reached forward and hugged Haven. He trilled happily. 

“Honestly it could be so much worse!”

You spent the rest of the day in silence. You had known they were starving, but you hadn’t realized how badly. Something else didn’t sit right with you either. The fact that the monster races had left their territory had been something that had been bothering you. That had to be the reason why the soil wasn’t absorbing magic, right? That was the only thing that had changed?

Then it hit you. What was soil? It was broken down waste. No Monsters. No decay. No shit. And how did the Bee-men manage their own waste anyway? Could you do something with this? Could it really be that simple? 

You got so excited to tell Rena about it that it surprised you when you saw her at your door. Rena never made the trek to your house, saying that human civilization had a terrible smell to it. When you saw her face, she was crying.

“You have to come with me. Now.”

“Rena whats wrong, are you--”

“It's Lyith.”

All you could hear for a moment was the large thudding of your heart. Without another word you jumped into Rena’s arms and she held you, giving you a huge squeeze before buzzing off into the forest.

Part Five (Beware NSFW)