#Likely something from Flora high

[sysig]

Just Desserts continental northern map made using this method! :D (Patreon)

[blood-smiles]

𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇, 𝐈’𝐌 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐖˚ ༘ 🌱⋆｡˚

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐂𝐎𝐖/𝐁𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐎𝐘 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 . MDNI . TW// Naked man . Yandere . Suggestive? . Darling is breastfed by yandere. Male lactation . Forced affection

𝐒weat dribbled down your forehead, your scratchy sleeve running across your skin hastily before any sweat got into your eyes.

The hay bale in your arms irritated your forearms but you pushed through, throwing it inside the loft of your classic red barn.

The horses neighed, a little greeting for you, making little circles in their stalls as if brimming with energy.

You mustered a smile, trying to ignore the aching pain at your temples. Your head felt like a watermelon wrapped in rubber bands, about to explode at any moment.

You turned, exiting out the other end of your barn, picking up a tin bucket and kneeling in front of your large collection of flora.

You grumbled as you picked fat caterpillars off your Bougainvillea and unceremoniously tossed into a bin.

A deep frown marred your face as you looked at the various bite shaped holes in the leaves of your pretty flowers.

You sent a scorching glare to the bucket full of caterpillars.

 “You handful of bastards better be grateful I’m not feeding you to the barn cat..” you hissed, voice filled with genuine resentment.

The loud thunk of a truck made you jump out of your shoes, accidentally dropping the bucket, the caterpillars flying into the luscious green grass.

You bit back a groan, knowing you would have to pick out the little creatures by hand later.

You lifted your head, peeking at the men in white lab coats, who were throwing something extremely large into a pile of dirt near your house.

Now what the hell? They have no right to be dumping their shit in your backyard! Not after you had busted your lower back to keep it clean!

You were about to stomp over and throw some hands, however the men got into their high tech van and disappeared in a cloud of black smoke.

You coughed as you approached the garbage site, seeing if there was anything to loot off of.

It looked like there was something massive swaddled tightly in styrofoam wrap. 

You prodded the cocoon with the tip of your timber, you let out a small scream as it pulsated under your foot.

You jumped back in fright as the thing inside started moving even more, all out of the sudden, a muffled voice yelled.

You raised your brows, a person? Was a person wrapped in that? You could just stand by and act as if nothing happened but.. cleaning the mess up would be annoying.

You scrambled to dig your nails inside the wrapping and pulled as hard as you could, ripping the tough material to shreds.

You fell back to the ground, a large, naked man emerging from the dirt, styrofoam doing a horrible job of covering up his.. bits.

You kept your eyes up.. sorta, his well endowed chest was the first thing that popped out to you. Quite literally, it had its own shadow and everything, they were definitely bigger than yours. 

He was tall, taller than any creature or human you had ever seen in your life.

You painstakingly tore your eyes away from his chest, mourning the loss of titties.

You scanned his head, his hair was light blonde with brunette highlights, curling towards his face at the slightly curly tips, a curl of hair covering his left eye.

His skin was tan with patches of lighter skin, resembling the spots of a cow.

A golden nose ring gleamed under the sunlight, you just barely noticed the stubs of horns on his head, along side the blonde cow ears.

..Wait hold on a minute, ears and horns? What in the nudist cosplay is this?

The man tilted his head, his ears flicking as he followed you movements, like a baby bird mimicking its mother’s actions.

You didn’t stick around a moment more as you watched the strange male’s strangely beautiful face light up with wonder.

“Master!” He lunged. Missing you only by a hair, you swore you felt his thick fingers tickling your back.

“Stop following me! I am not your master!!” You hollered, speeding up your pace as you tried to jump over the fence of your barn.

“Wrong!” He giggled, strong arms stretching out to grab you, making sure to take victory this time.

“(Y/N)!~” he called out sweetly, opening and closing his hands, resembling of a toddler demanding uppies.

“HOW THE HELL DO YOU KNOW MY NAME?!?!” You never got an answer, simply a jolly laugh.

You ran around for 40 minutes.

And the strange bull cow hybrid didn’t stop, he wasn’t even breaking a sweat, it wasn’t very long until you dropped on the ground.

The man plopped down behind you, grabbing you by your armpits like he would hold a cat. Only to begin having a cuddling session, he didn’t let you go.

You begged him to let you breathe, but he had gotten too attached to let you go, at one point you had decided to take the drastic measure to bite his arm,

Which was a failure.

Because he let out the most pornographic moan you had ever heard.

You slowly retracted your teeth from his arm, deciding to never do that again.

“Well.. Can you at least tell me who you are? Why you are here? Why me?” You bombarded him with question, he hummed, his tail wagging on grass while rocking you side to side like a baby.

“Mm~.. m’ name’s Briar.. I’m a gift for you! And.. Because I saw you first!” He finished with a wide smile, his simplistic answers not actually giving away anything.

He rubbed his cheek against the side of your head, your back cushioned by two very prominent pillows.

You glared at him, wriggling out of his beefy arms and rolling onto the grass.

“Let me stay with you!” He chirped, getting up to follow close behind you.

“No.” You didn’t budge, looking down to dust your jeans off, but when you looked up Briar was giving you the most sopping wet pathetic puppy eyes you had ever seen.

Your harsh glare softened for a moment, no! No! No! You weren’t going to get emotionally manipulated by a fucking cow.

He dropped to his knees, getting on all fours and dirtying his knees with soil. His hands wrapped around your calves as if they were the size of water bottles.

“Please…”

That disturbed you more than you would think, this thing dwarfed every aspect of yours, only reminding you of how quick and effortlessly he could rip an arm of yours off.

“..No!” You grumbled more defiantly, closing your eyes for a second as you looked away.

you curiously cracked an eye open and saw how large drops of tears welled in his eyes, his bottom lip trembled, threatening that he would cry if he needed to.

A strong gust of wind blew in your direction, to your dismay, sending the last piece of wrapping around Briar’s hips off into the breeze.

You almost screamed in terror at the sheer size of that thing, because there was no humane possible way you could call it a penis.

That thing was the fuckin’ size of your arm.

“Okay. Fine. Come inside.” You grabbed his arm roughly, dragging him into your cottage in a panic.

He cheered as he allowed you to throw him inside your room, you skimmed your closet for something—God dammit! Anything to cover his big ass up!

You shakily exhaled as you found the baggiest jeans you owned, your hands gripping the widest flannel you had.

You screwed your eyes shut. Not wanting to see more than you already had.

“Thank..you!” He beamed, you could already imagine the sparkles around him.

You picked up the rustling of clothes, opening your eyes to see how your clothes fitted him.

You didn’t have underwear for him for now, so you had to compromise with just hoping that your jeans would be enough to cover his shame just a little bi…

Nevermind, you could still see the outline of it.

The supposed ‘baggy’ blue jeans hugged his thighs sinfully. This is a stranger, you tried to reprimand yourself, a complete stranger that you should not be ogling at but.. holy cow.

That shit was juicy. The pervert inside you was foaming at the mouth, trying not to pounce and bite the flesh off his legs and ass.

The flannel was hanging onto a single button, the fabric stretched over his chest so disgustingly tightly.

You had to unbutton the very first few buttons to let him breathe properly, it was killing you slowly. The need to bury your head between those glorious, magnificent tits.

You covered your face with your sun hat in shame, wishing to slam your head against the walls.

“Just..Just go.” You fumbled with your words, flush climbing the back of your neck all the way up to your ears.

Briar held his arms pinned to his sides, fingers flexing as he stared at you in awe. How he just wanted to aggressively cuddle you, he wanted to squeeze you so bad.

He thought humans were weird and mean.. But when looking at you he just wanted to bite you, not to harm you per say, just to somehow cope with the warm feeling in his chest.

“Okay!” He skipped out the front door, leaving you in ruins as he waltzed into the barn where the cattle resided.

You watched him interact and play with the cows for hours upon hours, at one point stealing a bell and wearing it around his neck.

“I’m your belle now!” He said, brimming with excitement. He had now taken the title of being your.. helper from now onwards.

You really did try to get rid of him, you tried selling him, abandoning him— Hell, even tying him up.

But annoyingly enough, he always returned, it didn’t matter what method you used, he somehow evaded it.

So you just decided to keep him around under a condition, that he helps out around the place.

He mowed the lawn.. He milked the cows.. He did some weird type of trick on the plants so the caterpillars wouldn’t eat them.. He was magic.

You made the mistake of introducing him to a friend, thinking that since he was so docile towards you, he would be the same way with others.

Could you be any more stupid?

Sometimes your neighbors would show up to chat and exchange goods or take horse back rides around the lands, Briar didn’t like it.

He was possessive and hostile, you had to stop him from trampling your friend to ground meat, you had almost pissed your pants in fear, never had you ever seen Briar with such a hateful look in his eyes.

Luckily, it seemed like he learned his lesson after you gave him silent treatment for two hours. He was in tears, sobbing that he would never upset you again, clinging onto your feet while nudging your stomach with his horns.

He had went as far as tagging his own ear after he got envious of a calf, he saw you clipping the babies ear and immediately begun to pester you to do the same thing to him.

You tried to make him understand that it was solely for identification, that he was already pretty identifiable, but he kept insisting.

You caved in, letting him plop down in your very much weaker and skinnier thigh. You tried to warn him that it would hurt, but he shook his head, affirming that he would take it like a good boy.

You sighed, monotonously counting down from three, before snapping clips closed.

He didn’t even make a face, you told him it was done and handed him a mirror to look at his brand new piercing.

It was a yellow, blank tag. You didn’t bother giving him a number, he wasn’t a legit cow to be kept in the barns so it wasn’t necessary.

You watched with curiosity as he grabbed a alcohol pen from your nightstand and slowly wrote your name on his tag.

“Baby!” He clapped his hands, ears slightly raising to reflect his mood, his tail wagged like a dog’s as he let out a little moo.

“You’re heavy. Get off.” You pushed him off, hoping that this was the end of his strange behaviors and urges.

He whined and pouted but you eventually peeled him off of you, the warmth and squish of his chest against your face leaving and letting you breathe properly.

Well, you thought that was the end of it.

You didn’t ask any questions about his origins or what he was, because in your book ignorance is bliss.

That was until you couldn’t ignore that your pillows and clothes were beginning to go missing, appearing as if by accident in the barn loft.

Briar was beginning to disappear more often, appearing after a few hours and dropping unconscious on your bed.

You noticed that the flannels he usually wore began to look tighter around his chest, more of the buttons on his shirt beginning to suddenly fly off like bullets, narrowly hitting you in the head.

You whistled a little tune, small pebbles crunching under your boots as you walked into the cattle house.

You swung a tin bucket in your hand, turning to your fluffy little cows to milk them of their milk. You spoke in a high pitched voice to them, reaching out and kissing their furry foreheads.

“MnHgh!” A familiar voice suppressed his aroused sounds with their hand, hoping he had fooled you and had slapped a hand over his mouth quick enough.

You stopped petting your cows, walking towards a closed closet door behind you. Your hand wrapped around the doorknob, the metal being slightly warm, someone with overwhelming body warmth had just touched this.

You groaned, Briar. What the hell was he doing now?

You swung the door open, your figure casting a shadow over Briar’s crumpled body on the floor. Another sweet whimper escaped him accidentally, he tried to cover his chest with his arms, as if shielding a secret.

His tan patchwork skin gleamed with sweat under the dim lighting, his eyes were irritated and glassy, like he had been crying for hours before you got there.

“Briar.” You sternly called his name, causing him to look into your eyes, his ears drooped in embarrassment, attentively listening to what you were going to say next. 

“Show me your chest.” Your voice ordered, putting the tin bucket down by your feet. You watched as Briar slowly did as you said, looking away in shame as he revealed himself.

Your eyes widened as you glanced down at his swollen pectorals, his nipples cherry red and tender. His chest was significantly heavier than usual, and even that was saying a lot when it’s common knowledge that he is very much above average.

“What..What happened?” Your eyes darted to his face, worry slowly seeping into your expression.

His obscenely large hand grasped your own, putting it gently on his chest.

You looked down, trying to decipher what his intentions were.. That was until you felt something warm trickling down your hand.

Something white and watery, slowly dribbling down your hand at a steady pace. It was shameful, down right perverted— But you brought your hand to your mouth, licking the substance.

It hit you like a tractor, it was silky—Sweet, better than any liquid you had ever tasted, it’s taste was one too similar to.. Milk?

“Y..Y-You can do that?” You blurted without thinking, pulling the tin bucket under his chest to catch the liquid.

The slightest shy nod of his head, the most bashful smile you had ever seen of him confirmed all your suspicions.

..You actually had to milk him. 

Your face turned warm as your hands reached out to him, wrapping around his soft boobs, softly but methodically squeezing the milk out of him.

They produced milk steadily, squirting into the bucket, the sound of milk splattering against the tin making your gaze hazy.

You knew it was game over when the bucket was full, his chest didn’t seem that decreased in size by much.

You got off your knees to get a new bucket, only for Briar to cling on to you, making you fall between his legs and into his chest.

He didn’t wait, his nipple gently introducing itself into your warm little mouth, milk spilling onto your tongue in a moments notice.

You let out a strangled yell, trying to unlatch but Briar’s hand stopped you, pushing your head closer to his chest, forcing you to swallow the soft liquid.

“Hush, let mommy feed you..” he cooed, hearts forming in his eyes as he forced you to digest his milk.

“HMMPH.” You tried to protest, but didn’t make a move to stop Briar, he just shushed you, acting as if your protests were just a hissy fit.

He overpowered you, that sensitive shy act he put on before, being years light behind him. 

You closed your eyes, knowing there was no escape from bosom jail. Your throat was dry from dehydration and the warm milk being force fed down wasn’t the most unpleasant thing you had experienced.

He cupped the back of your head, a million dollar smile on his plump lips, you were embarrassed.

You pressed your nose close into the soft muscle of his chest, just letting yourself be smothered by warmth, milk dribbling from the corners of your mouth.

You could barely hear the overgrown cow’s deep voice over the sound of your heartbeat.

“What a sweetheart you are..” ♥

[beloveds-embrace]

(A bit more of fae 141 x human reader) part one || masterlist

The court watched you now, far more than before.

The shift had been slow, creeping like ivy through the cracks of an ancient ruin. Where once they had turned away, now their gazes fully lingered. Where once your presence had been an insult, now it was a curiosity, a subject of whispered speculation.

Yet the air remained thick with a quiet, simmering hostility- resentment wrapped in the guise of courtly smiles, contempt veiled behind compliments laced with poisoned edges- even if you were now adorned in their jewelery and etiquettes rather than what you’d always known and been familiar with.

You had expected as much.

The fae were ancient things, creatures of unfathomable beauty and cruelty, and they did not yield to weakness. To humans. So by the Queen Mother’s decree, you had made yourself into something unyielding, something sharp, something that could not be ignored.

Your gowns no longer draped like soft things meant for a mortal princess, but clung like shadows, corseted into something sculpted, something worthy of standing beside a fae king- the newspapers declared. The fabrics whispered as you moved, stitched with thread that shimmered like moonlight on deep water, woven with fae flora that pulsed faintly, petals shifting as though alive- whispered the noble women between themselves.

Your jewelry was no longer mere ornamentation- it was a message. Rings curled into the shape of talons, necklaces draped like spun starlight, earrings tapering into elegant points to mimic the elongated ears of the fae. A tiara rested against your brow, dark metal curling like the antlers of the fae lords, a crown that was neither delicate nor kind nor soft.

And still, the loneliness gnawed at you; because it was not you they saw, not truly. Ans they didn’t care enough to see.

It was a version of you- a creature carved from necessity, shaped by the will of a Queen Mother who would jot accept failure and of a court that would sooner see you broken than accepted

Tonight, the throne room was a cathedral of darkness and gold, high-arched ceilings threaded with veins of living crystal that pulsed like the veins of a slumbering god.

Tonight, they tested you. Again and again- hungry wolves searching for one singular crack to latch their jawn onto.

The wine was rich, dark as garnets, pooling in the bottom of your goblet as you traced the rim with one idle finger. Nobles gathered in clusters, glittering figures in their twilight silks, voices weaving like threads in a tapestry of laughter, whispers, and secrets.

It had taken time, but you had learned how to listen.

A high lord- one whose name you barely bothered to remember- smiled as he spoke, voice laced with condescension.

"You carry yourself well, my queen," he mused, swirling the deep-red wine in his goblet. "Almost as if you were one of us.”

A deliberate insult. A reminder that no matter how you dressed, no matter how you moved, you would never truly be fae. Him, silently declaring his lack of support for you.

You smiled.

A slow, deliberate thing, lips painted the color of crushed berries, dark as winter fruit.

“Then I suppose I have much to thank you for,” you murmured, tilting your head. As you did so, the golden blossoms woven through your “horns” gleamed sharply. “After all, it is your court that has taught me the importance of adaptation.”

The noble’s eyes flickered, and beside you, Kyle let out a quiet hum of amusement.

Across the room, the Queen Mother watched with narrowed eyes. She did not like you, and you doubted she ever would, but she disliked incompetence even more- and in this moment, you were proving yourself competent. Useful.

You had learned well.

But at what cost?

The night did not end there, of course. For every several fae that despised your existence, there’d be at least one another who wanted to pluck each petal of your potential.

The noblewoman who joined your side a while later leaned in, her voice lowered in a conspiratorial murmur, fan flicked out so the movements of her lips and fangs were just for you. "You must tell me, my queen- who do you favor for the next trade council seat?"

Ah. There it was.

You had not been given power (though the Queen Mother had extended a twig of it towards you); you had taken it, grasping it with fingers that had once been ink-stained and weary, now adorned with clawed rings that gleamed under the torchlight. And some had let you. No- more than that. They sought you now, their careful disdain curling into something closer to reverence.

Soon, it will be more than just a few of them. But for now…

You turned to the noblewoman with a small smile, tilting your goblet just so, watching the wine catch the flickering light.

"I have always believed in those who prove themselves," you murmured, just quiet enough to make her lean in, hungry for more. "The court rewards those who are clever and patient. Not those who… speak a little too much."

Your eyes cut across to the nobleman from earlier, his back turned to you.

Her lips curled into a sharp smile. She would think on those words, twist them in her mind until she convinced herself of their meaning. And when the time came, she would vote exactly as you intended- believing all the while it had been her own decision.

A presence loomed behind you before you heard the footsteps. A flicker in the torchlight, the faint shift of the air.

"You’ve been busy, wife.” Kyle’s voice murmured.

You did not turn immediately. Instead, you let the moment stretch, savoring the weight of his gaze as it traced over the elegant curve of your gown, the delicate glint of the fae-wrought silver in your hair. When you finally glanced over your shoulder, your smile was soft and knowing.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

His brow furrowed slightly, and gods- there was something deeply satisfying about seeing that expression on his face, knowing that you had unsettled him. Satisfying, yet lonesome; must you have this distance even from your own husbands?

"You’re weaving yourself into this court," he said, stepping closer, the low rumble of his voice curling against your skin. Dark eyes peered down at you. "Into us."

The balcony railing was cool beneath your fingers as you turned to face him fully. You let the silk of your gown shift, pooling like liquid shadow at your feet.

“I am your wife,” you reminded him, tilting your head. “Shouldn’t I belong here?”

His jaw clenched. You could feel the weight of his gaze, heavy with something unreadable. But he was not the only one watching.

From the flickering glow of the hall beyond, you caught the subtle shift of movement- Johnny’s quicksilver glance, the way his fingers curled against the stem of his goblet. John, seated at the banquet table, expression sharp and attentive. And Simon was a shadow at the edges, silent, still, his head tilted ever so slightly as if studying the edges of a puzzle he had not yet solved.

If only they would simply speak to me…

Kyle, of course, was not the only one with such thoughts, because Johnny had begun to linger.

His presence had always been bright, a thing of warmth despite the razor-sharp edges that all fae possessed. But now, there was something different in the way he watched you.

It started with small things- the way he leaned in when you spoke, like he was trying to catch something unspoken in your words.

One night, when you retired early from yet another endless evening of courtly games and far too much paperwork, he found you in the moonlit gardens, where fae flora coiled and their petals trembled at your touch.

“You’ve changed even more than I expected, lass,” he said, voice quiet. Not accusing. Just… observing.

You did not look at him. “I had no choice.”

A pause. Then, softer:

“Didn’t you?”

You turned then, meeting his gaze, searching for the mockery, the dismissal. But there was none. Only something unreadable, something deep.

And it was that, more than anything, that sent you retreating back into the palace and ignoring the gazes boring into you.

Because if you allowed yourself to believe- to hope- that they saw you- soft, still human despite everything you’ve done to adapt to them- and not just the queen you had become…

You weren’t sure you would survive the disappointment.

(They hadn’t cared before… why now? Should they not be happy you had become like this, hiding your humanity more and more with each day? Shouldn’t they be?)

[mahalachives]

Part 1: The Meet Cute

Azriel x f!reader

Genre: fated mates, rom-com, crack humor, eventual angst, eventual smut

Summary: Azriel never expected to finally meet his mate and to be… this.

A walking disaster with a talent for tripping over air, an uncanny ability to charm even the grumpiest Illyrian, and a knack for throwing herself headfirst into situations that require his immediate intervention.

She is warmth where he is shadow, laughter where he is silence. And worst of all? She makes him smile without trying.

Azriel, Are you Okay? - Masterlist

There were worse ways to die, you supposed.

You could've been mauled by a rabid Suriel.

Or trampled by a particularly aggressive herd of Illyrians during training.

But no. Your fate was to perish from sheer mortification, sprawled across the chest of the most feared male in Velaris.

And, in all likelihood, take him down with you.

Twelve Hours Earlier...

Life in Velaris was, for the most part, peaceful. You loved it here: the bustling markets, the shimmering Sidra, the endless opportunities to get lost in one of the city's many bookstores or cafés.

You had grown up in the Night Court, an ordinary High Fae with no claim to power, no noble name. No extraordinary skill besides the ability to make friends with everyone. (And, perhaps, your uncanny ability to trip over nothing.)

That was why you worked where you did. The Velaris Botanical Archives was the perfect job. Curating and cataloging the history of rare flora, researching the best ways to preserve the Night Court's unique plant life.

You adored every part of it.

Except for the fact that the bookshelves were designed for Illyrians.

Which was how you ended up in this situation.

All you'd wanted was a book on Moonbloom flowers. A single book. But when you asked the head librarian for assistance, she'd waved you off, muttering something about "independent young fae" before disappearing.

So. That left you and your greatest foe.

A ridiculously tall bookshelf.

The logical solution? Climb.

Was it your smartest idea? No. But it wasn't the first time you'd scaled one of these shelves, and it likely wouldn't be the last.

You had nearly reached the book when...crack.

The shelf trembled beneath you.

Your stomach plunged.

"Oh, no," you breathed, right before the entire world tilted.

And then you were falling.

Present Moment.

The only upside to your current predicament was that you hadn't been crushed beneath an avalanche of books.

The downside?

You were currently draped over Azriel.

The Azriel.

The Shadowsinger. The Night Court's lethal spymaster. A legend whispered about in the darkest corners of Prythian.

And you had just fallen on top of him.

The world had gone deathly silent.

You didn't dare breathe.

Slowly, painstakingly slowly, you lifted your head.

And...oh. Mother above.

Azriel lay beneath you, sprawled against the floor like he'd been tackled from the heavens. His wings flared slightly behind him, dark as the night sky, his hands firm on your waist where he had somehow instinctively caught you.

His hazel eyes, rich and unreadable, blinked up at you in pure disbelief.

You, meanwhile, were a very mortified starfish.

"I am so sorry," you gasped, scrambling to move. In your rush to not be straddling the Night Court's most terrifying male, you made a fatal mistake.

Your foot slipped on a fallen book.

And like a damn fool, you face-planted right back onto his chest.

Azriel let out a very slow, very deep breath.

You felt the rumble of it beneath you, his self-restraint practically vibrating through his muscles.

His voice, when it finally came, was dangerously calm.

"Are you trying to kill me?"

You squeaked, immediately trying to push yourself up again, but your elbow landed on his stomach.

Azriel made a very small, very controlled noise. A sound that might have been a grunt.

"No. I mean, yes. I mean, wait, no! I just..." You sucked in a breath. "This isn't what it looks like."

Azriel arched a slow, painfully unimpressed brow. His gaze flickered to your current position: fully draped over him like an overeager blanket.

"Really?" he drawled.

You swallowed. "Okay," you admitted, "this is exactly what it looks like."

A choking noise came from somewhere nearby.

And that was when you realized you had an audience.

At the entrance of the library, standing in a semi-circle of unholy amusement, were Rhysand, Cassian, Mor, and Amren.

Cassian's entire face was rapidly turning purple as he tried and failed to hold in his laughter.

Mor gasped before cackling so hard she stumbled against Rhys.

Rhysand's lips twitched, but his violet eyes gleamed with utter delight.

And Amren? Stoic, ancient Amren?

She merely crossed her arms and muttered, "Well. This is interesting."

You wanted to die. Right there. On the spot. Just spontaneously combust into fae dust.

Azriel, to his credit, was silent. Completely unreadable. But the way his wings twitched, the way his hands were still on your waist...

You felt it then.

A shift.

A sensation that curled into your ribs, warm and terrifying.

Your eyes met his again.

And there, in the depths of those night-kissed irises...

Recognition.

The world tilted.

Your breath caught.

"Oh no," you whispered.

Azriel blinked, his expression sharpening, like something had just slotted into place. Like he felt it, too.

A single second stretched into eternity.

Then, finally, finally, Azriel exhaled.

"Oh no."

And that was the exact moment Cassian completely lost his mind.

The roar of his laughter shattered the silence. His wings flared as he doubled over, hands on his knees, absolutely howling.

Mor collapsed against Rhys, wheezing.

Rhysand sighed through his smirk, shaking his head. "Well, I suppose congratulations are in order."

Azriel was still beneath you.

Still touching you.

Still looking at you like you'd just flipped his entire existence upside down.

And you?

You did the only thing your panicked, humiliated, fate-cursed mind could think to do.

You covered your face with your hands and wailed,

"WHY IS IT ALWAYS ME?"

Note: Wrote this during an eight-hour layover. Gotta love airport inspiration! Let me know in the comments if you’d like to be tagged for future chapters! ☺️

[slylittleprincess]

I want you to try something for me.

Try looking up for a moment in whatever room or space you’re in right now and just imagine what a creature double your size would actually be like. Perhaps they would have to hunch over just to fit. They certainly wouldn’t get through the door without significant compression.

Imagine what a creature double your width would be like. A creature that size would carry themselves with a sense of scale, a sense of magnitude that would be humbling to observe. It would feel powerful, dangerous perhaps.

Imagine that creature was made entirely of flora, lush waxy leaves and flowers. A face constructed of a wooden mask that would almost be the size of your chest. It would look down on you, it would be impossible not to. Your eye-line would reach their waist, and with your arms outstretched you would maybe reach their petal constructed pectorals.

A creature like that would bring with it a smell. Anyone who has been in a greenhouse knows that a volume of plant matter that dense generates a rich perfume of life itself. Sweet and grassy and floral.

A creature like that would flutter and tremble with every movement, ripples from the sheer weight of it running down with every fabricated breath and subtle adjustment. Imagine each shifting change, how noticeable it would be. How much of your animal brain would be dedicated to those observations, making sure that you were not in danger.

Envision how piercing its gaze would be, focused and attentive on you from those massive eyes so high above you. How it would make your heart race if that huge wooden mask clicked and clattered as it adjusted into a thorny smile.

Consider how it would actually feel to be lifted off the ground by this figure. You wouldn’t become weightless under them. You would be just as strong as you currently are, just as beholden to your own centre of gravity, simply supported by their tremendous arms and careful vines. The strength necessary to make such a manoeuvre effortless would be immensely tangible. Fear inducing perhaps. Or maybe it would be like a profound surrender, to be so easily carried in a way you haven’t felt since you were a child.

Consider all of this. And look back up. Really try to place this creature in your room.

Now imagine that it loves you.

That is what biorhythms are.

That, is what an Affini is.

[inkytoru]

FORCED CHEMISTRY ── .✦ ꒰ gojo s. ꒱

SYNOPSIS: You're exploring a foreign planet with the galaxy's-most-renowned scientist Gojo Satoru as his assistant. Or rather, was, until you were both knocked unconscious.

PAIRING: gojo satoru x f!reader WORD COUNT: 3.6k ⚠︎ CONTENT WARNINGS: a/b/o dynamics, omegaverse, dubcon, yandere!gojo, mating bites, breeding, knotting, sex pollen, injections

A/N: minors dni. veeery old repost of one of my more popular fics from 2021 (also crossposted to ao3 so don't be alarmed if you see it under a different alias)! we're so back

Heavy are your footfalls that meet the unyielding terrain of the mysterious planet that’s been on you and your fellow scientists’ radars for quite some time now. You exasperatedly thumb through what’s left of your notes while your lanky boss stretches a foot or so ahead of you, long arms inviting the sky into them. He throws his head back over his shoulder to flash an award-winning smile at you. It drops and forms into a pout when you don’t even dignify him with a look.

“Still mad at me?” he asks.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Yes,” you hiss through your teeth, “Gojo you ruined a significant portion of my field notes with your reckless, thoughtless piloting. Again.”

Gojo’s suddenly in front of you, face leaning into yours. You jump, taken aback at the close proximity in which you can smell the aroma of coffee off of him from the stack of unsalvageable notes you had thrown at his face.

“Y/N.”

“Yes, Gojo?”

“You shouldn’t frown so much. Y’know, they say it takes twenty-six more muscles to frown than it does to smile.” he cheerily singsongs as he pulls at the corners of your lips into a mock smile. You swat his hand away, irritation etched deeply between your brows. “You’re insufferable.”

“You’re gonna get wrinkles the more you keep contorting that pretty face of yours. C’mon, follow my example!” Gojo says as he beams down at you. You continue staring at him with such blatant unamusement that he practically deflates and kicks a rock away dejectedly. He mumbles under his breath, causing you to quirk an eyebrow.

“Have something you want to say?” you inquire before he mumbles again, this time facing away from you. 

Whining, he turns to fix puppy-dog eyes on you. “I already said I was sorry…”

You suck in a harsh breath, the irritation rolling off of you in waves. “‘Sorry’ doesn’t cut it you absolute idiot! You knew how important those notes were. I needed those to work off of for Yaga’s report and you just—!”

“What if I told you I already submitted a report for you using the notes you like to just leave around where any old idiot like me can pick them up?” Gojo grins seeing you sigh and rake a hand through your hair.

Before any words could leave your mouth, a bellowing boom shakes the ground somewhere in the distance, acid green liquid spewing high into the air. You both share a glance.

“Adventure awaits, dearest Y/N!” your moron of a boss exclaims before marching onwards towards the source of the booming noise. You follow in his footsteps, trying in vain to match his strides. Why’d the damned bastard have to be so tall?

As you two cautiously approach the area of concern, Gojo quickly throws a set of technologically-advanced headphones at you which you catch effortlessly and immediately wear. Beyond the planet’s flora and fauna that spreads into the horizon, a geyser comes into your line of sight. Another rumble reverberates through the ground as that same liquid from earlier shoots out of the hole. Stabilizing your feet, you continue on alongside your partner.

“Hand me a reinforced test tube,” Gojo tells you in a businesslike manner. “We need a sample of that to bring back to HQ. Stay here.”

You nod solemnly as you place the tube in the waiting palm of his hand, expecting your boss to come bounding back to you excited at the prospect of new material to research.

What you didn’t expect when you went to search for him, was the blow to the back of your head, effectively shutting the lights of your world off, submerging you into total-encompassing darkness.

Your head felt leaden as you tried to raise it with much effort; the rest of your body felt strung out much alike to that of a harp’s strings. It soon clicked that that was due to the spread eagle position you were in, suspended in mid-air, naked, wrists and ankles encircled with sturdy shackles that upon closer inspection (and by that, you mean squinting) seemed to be of extraterrestrial origin. Your senses were overwhelmed with the blinding fluorescent lights that swathed the room you were in, which appeared to be an observational room of sorts if the one-way window is anything to go by. A groan comes from your left, indicating that you were not alone.

You turn to see your superior in a similar predicament as you, his signature high-tech shades nowhere to be seen thus allowing his crystalline blue hues to be bare for all to see. He’s blearily blinking, and just as naked as you are. You couldn’t help the blush that dusts the apples of your cheeks when your eyes trail down his lean body of their own accord.

“So you two are finally awake.”

Your gaze darts around in order to locate the source of the voice until Gojo’s own voice reaches your ears. “Don’t bother. It’s communicating with us via telepathy.”

Bewilderment and puzzlement is soon replaced by anger, and you pull at your shackles fruitlessly. “Who are you and who gave you permission to probe around in my head?” you shout at the glass a few feet away from you.

“Relax, descendant of Gaia. We cannot root around your heads as much as we’d like, however we can translate our thoughts in our own mother tongue into yours within your thick-headed craniums for the convenience of all parties.” The disembodied voice responds, skipping a beat as if to allow that information to be absorbed properly. Your eye twitches at the insult. “We’ll cut to the chase. We have been watching and waiting for you foolish Gaialings to step foot onto our planet and your audacity will not go unpunished. You see, we give you puny humans a new purpose and life here.” Wait— so you and Gojo weren’t the only humans to have attempted to explore this luminous body? Your mind reels with a plethora of questions that get interrupted by mechanical whirrings grating in your ears the louder and closer it comes. You gasp when you see the clawed ends of a robotic contraption clutching two separate syringes of some sort of questionable, red, viscous serum. Gojo remains silent beside you.

“What the hell is this?” you cautiously ask, eyeing the syringe wearily.

“Well, we’re glad you asked,” the mystifying voice coolly states. “That serum will gift you a certain set of new qualities that determine which… class you fall under. You have your alphas— those with either a newfound or amplified domineering disposition and changes to their genitals which may result in a knot at the base, or a knot at the base of a penis that will grow from the vulva when the subject presents. Next are the omegas— the ones who perpetuate the growth of our dearest slaves. They have a tendency to be rare, thus being prized amongst the human population here. Heat cycles affect them greatly, and will accordingly need to be placated by an alpha whose job will be to breed and thus impregnate the omega. The knotting process will ensure a healthy litter of pups to come the next month or so.” 

Gojo pipes up. “Do you know how we would present ahead of time?”

“We do not have a surefire way yet to predetermine what category you will fall under, so this will be as exciting a reveal as it will be for you to us. However, we’ve come to find that most females fall under the omega class while the alphas are typically the males; of course this is not true for every case but it is likely that that will be how each of you present.”

“And could you be so kind as to elaborate on the nature of this society you have cultivated for those of our kind?”

There’s a reverberating chuckle before the response that makes your stomach drops comes. “It’s quite the dog-eat-dog world, we’re afraid to say. Alphas fight to the death over the ownership of omegas, omegas try to find ways to off themselves, so on and so forth. Now enough of the chitchat. Let the procedure begin.”

“Wait—!” you start, only for the next words to die within your throat as the sharp tip of the syringe punctures your thigh. You can hear Gojo audibly grit his teeth, and you bite your tongue to curb the scream that threatened to burst forth from your mouth. The pain was immeasurable, white-hot heat that shot all throughout your body ruthlessly.

Suddenly your restraints release you unceremoniously to the floor, Gojo following as his detached as well. Upon contact with the floor, you both begin to convulse, screams of agony and strained noises escaping from two pairs of lips. You could’ve sworn you could feel your DNA rearranging itself to leave room for the serum’s properties to make themselves at home.

The torment the serum put your body under was much too excruciating; excruciating enough for your consciousness to slip away once more and for blackness to fill your vision.

Red. That was all you could see when your eyes groggily opened, and you ponder if you had made it to hell before it registers in your brain that the red was simply the paint that enveloped the ceiling of the new room you were in. You muster the energy to sit up, bouncing slightly atop of what seems to be plush bedding with a plethora of pillows brimming with down.

To your side, a familiar presence can be felt, especially when the owner of said presence shifts around into a sitting position next to you.

You open your mouth to say something as you turn your head only to be met with more nude Gojo.

“Like what you see?” he cheekily asks while wiggling his brows. Before you can answer with a retort he goes on with flapping his lips again. “Actually wait no— don’t answer that. The answer itself is already written all over that cute little face of yours.”

Your eye twitches but the heat rising to the apples of your cheeks betray any and all notion of annoyance your eye twitch showed and you huff as you look away when your bastardly boss winks at you flirtatiously.

Crossing your arms together to hide your breasts along with pulling your knees up to your chest, you speak after a beat or two of silence, suddenly nervous at the potential of the silence stretching on for far too long between you two. “Don’t suppose you have a plan to get out of here, huh?”

“Babycakes, I literally just regained consciousness.” He looks down at himself. “And so did Gojo Jr. it seems.”

You scrunch your face up, shielding your face with your hands. “Eugh, some things are better left unknown Gojo.”

“Aw, don’t be like that. Care to help out your lonely boss a lit— Mmf!” The heart-shaped throw pillow you hurtle at his face comically knocks him back.

You didn’t want to announce it as proudly as Gojo did (due to his admittedly impressive length), but you felt yourself getting wet. The reality of your predicament hadn’t fully dawned on you yet until you replay what the alien explained to you both in your head. Knotting? Breeding…?

The blush returns to your face with twice the ferocity it did before. Did that mean…?

“It’s exactly what you think.” Gojo comments as if he was reading your mind. “Don’t look at me like that— the dawning realization on your face speaks volumes.” he goes on to say, yawning with his long limbs outstretched.

Unfortunately, you weren’t allowed much time to let the prospect of what was to happen sink in in its entirety as some sort of gaseous substance begins to meld with the air of the room. You frown.

“What’s all this?”

Gojo studies the gas with keen eyes for a moment, and says the words you half-expected and were half-afraid to hear. “It’s some sort of sex pollen and also a way to speed up the process of our presentation, I believe.”

“Shit, Gojo what do we do?” you ask in a rising panic.

“I think—” starts Gojo, who gets interrupted by the gas seeping deeply into his lungs, resulting in a coughing fit that wracked his whole body.

You begin having a coughing fit of your own as the gas infiltrates your hyperventilating mouth and nostrils. Your mind was overcome with a haziness that soon developed into one of a burning desire to be claimed and bred, rationale taking a backseat to libido. With a whine, you can feel slick beginning to trickle out of your opening, slowly increasing in volume; your body temperature significantly rising.

So caught up in the heat overtaking your senses and body you were, that you failed to notice the growing feral presence in the room with you until your half-lidded eyes locked with ones with pupils blown so wide that only a ring of darkened blue was left. 

Panting even more, a louder attention-seeking whine escapes your lips, your lust-addled omega brain becoming more and more desperate for the touch and mark of an alpha. “Pl-Please Gojo… Make it stop…” you plead while you shakily snake a hand to your sex in a futile attempt to relieve yourself. His nostrils flare before he has you pinned against the sheets, one large hand smacking your own away from your core.

A low rumble from within his chest that sounds like a possessive growl has you bucking your hips up to meet his angry, leaky cockhead.

“I know baby, you want your cute little cunt stuffed and overflowing with my seed, don’t you?” Gojo coos as he folds your body into a mating press which effectively puts your glistening pussy on display for his hungry eyes to take in in all its beautiful entirety.

You feverishly nod. “Just— Just give it to me already! This is unbearable!”

“I’ll make it all better,” he promises before lining himself up with your desperately clenching entrance; in one swift motion, the tip of his engorged cock meets your cervix, having you howl as you tighten up instinctively.

Gojo’s mouth hangs open and you swipe a slick-coated finger against his bottom lip, to which he graciously licks clean. He moans appreciatively at your taste. “Mmm, fuck— I’m going to cum if you don’t loosen up a little—”

“Isn’t that the whole point of this?” you pant out, the first tendrils of annoyance slithering into you. “Move already.”

“So bossy,” he chuckles. “Your wish is my command.”

He doesn’t waste any time in finding a barbarous rhythm with his thrusts, effectively rendering you unable to do anything but cry out his name and scratch your nails down his toned back, enough so that they left red lines in their wake. Gojo didn’t seem to mind; in fact, it seemed to spur him on even more.

Sweat slid down the vast expanses of both your bodies as praise tumbled out of your alpha’s lips.

“Your scent and taste is so intoxicating—like fresh flowers and vanilla extract—I think I can get drunk off of it alone,” Gojo sighs, cherry red tongue laving up the side of your neck.

You take note of his scent as well, deeming it somewhere between sandalwood and pine. It was heady and stupefying; the type of scent you were sure that would have any omega fall to their knees before him.

He then noses at the junction between your neck and shoulder, and next you’re keening at the scrape of his canines against your flushed flesh. ‘Claim me! Claim me! Claim me!’ screams your mind. You must have said something out loud because Gojo finally stops toying with you and seeks out the perfect spot for a mating bite, teeth piercing and unrelenting even as you whimper over the pain.

Not long after, that pain tangos with the pleasure his cock brings by filling you up again and again. It was a combination of deliciously contrasting sensations that had you seeing pure white— it had your eyes rolling back and your pink tongue lolling out of your mouth.

“God, I never knew you were capable of such a sexy facial expression,” the alpha above you comments in awe as he takes a mental snapshot of the face you were making.

You don’t give a coherent response but Gojo didn’t seem to care. Filth continues spewing from his mouth and you had half a mind to process it all.

“C’mon, I know I haven’t completely fucked you stupid yet. Tell me how much you love this alpha cock.”

“I love, love, love it! Please don’t stop! Gimme more! I want your children!” you babble, incapable of focusing on anything else other than the way your new alpha was breeding you. Your moans only serve to amplify his need to ensure you’d bear his litter the next coming month.

“And who owns this pretty omega pussy?”

“I— Mmmh…”

A slap against your cheek echoes around the four walls you were both imprisoned in, and it clears the fog in your brain just enough for you to answer him back properly when he repeats himself, this time with more of an intense edge.

“You do! You do, Gojo! I need your knot!”

His chest heaves with a growl. “Can’t wait for those teats to fill with milk and that belly of yours to be round and fat with mini-Gojos. You’re going to be such a good mama.”

The alpha before you takes a nipple into his mouth to suck on harshly as a pale hand rises up to give attention and knead at your other breast. “Those little munchkins better share mama’s milk cause daddy has an appetite too,” he makes known after he stops playing with your sensitive bud in his mouth with a ‘pop!’

He then licks his way from your breast, to his mating mark, then to your lips; your mouth was already open so the rutting alpha took the opportunity to shove his tongue into it. His lips merge with yours in a searingly passionate kiss that further stimulates the tightening sensation that rested low in your stomach and was on the verge of coming undone any second now.

And then it happens.

Slim hips stutter in their pursuit to attain their high, their owner quickly pushing the fuller part of the base of his cock into you. It was a mildly burning but not unwelcome stretch that made you definitively lose it.

Your body seizes up as immense pleasure overrides any thought you have made prior to its arrival, and your toes start to curl while your wet walls lock down on the cock that doesn’t cease in penetrating you over and over, coaxing the rest of your orgasm out of you. Stars dance across your vision, your breasts rise and fall with a regularity, and you still find it in you to emit a cry when the bulbous knot inside of you increases in its breadth.

Gojo leans down to rest his forehead against yours, sweat mingling with yours and rosy pink lips agape as he shares breaths with you.

“How do you feel?” comes his concerned voice.

Your eyes flicker down to where your bodies meet, before connecting with his gaze again.

“Satisfied. And full.” comes your answer.

He smiles and gives you a fleeting kiss with adoration for you—his new lifelong partner—shining through his eyes.

You were elated at your union with the alpha being successful, and you mewl at how copious amounts of cum are driven into your womb, making Gojo smile wider as he rocks into you back and forth slowly, making sure his seed takes.

The mating process had taken a toll on your now exhausted body and soon, your eyelids flutter closed. Scenes of domesticity in your near future begin playing in your mind as you think one last thought before a deep slumber engulfs you: ‘Maybe life as an omega here wouldn’t be so bad, as long as I have the universe’s greatest scientist turned alpha—my alpha—alongside me.’

“What’s the meaning of this? We had a deal you conniving Gaialing!”

“Your first mistake was thinking you could negotiate fairly with Gojo Satoru.” states one of the special grade soldiers currently holding the lead extraterrestrial at gunpoint.

“And your second,” another chimes in, “was finalizing a deal with Gojo Satoru.” She grinds the sole of her combat boot into one of the lifeless alien’s faces that lay in front of her.

“Right Gojo?” one more speaks with a shit-eating grin.

The man in question mirrors his grin as he stands with his hands in his lab coat pockets behind the soldiers, pleased that everything went according to plan and that his trusted team of mercenaries triumphed over the natives of the planet that underestimated humans.

He thinks about how you, his now precious omega sleeping soundly in his arms bridal-style, was his first rejection. How you refused his confession, preferring to keep the relationship between you two plainly professional. But he knew. He knew you had feelings for him, and he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

Catching wind of what the aliens on this planet were up to had to have been the best intel he’d ever received, and he’d have to thank Mei Mei for that.

“Give us your word, sir.”

Gojo starts to walk towards the spaceship waiting outside for him and his team, speaking in a commanding tone as he does so.

“Leave no alien behind and meet me outside in five.”

He looks down at you with nothing but love. You looked so serene, and you were at the very least subconscious of your alpha’s presence because you snuggle in closer into the comfort of Gojo’s chest.

Finally, he had you where he wanted you, and the wicked smirk on his face was evidence of that.

[casuallyanidiot]

Yantober Day 1

Love at First Sight [Yandere Forest God x Gn.Reader]

Using @ozzgin's Yantober prompt list!

Tipjar :)

Tw! Dead dove do not Eat! MDNI, NSFW Noncon, oral sex (recieving), Yandere, Implied kidnapping

You go into a newly acquired piece of land to survey it for your job when things start to become strange...

1.7k words

There was something wrong with these woods.

You were used to seeing some kind of anomaly in your field studies. Maybe the deer or rabbit population was too high, or you would find that an invasive species was beating out a more native one. It was never crazy though outside of the normal, exhausting sludge that was conservationist work. You were sent out by the local government to different wildlife reserves, or areas that were undeveloped to do some basic surveying and then come back and give them updates.

This forest wasn’t any different, initially. It was a newer addition to your city’s ownership, sold to them by a smaller, dying rural town. There were talks of what to do with the land, but first you had to be sent down to make sure they wouldn’t violate any regulations or kill off an endangered species. Not that they really cared. After all, your job was to get professionally ignored.

So you went in, camping gear and your truck in tow, and you began to explore.

Again, it was normal at first.

It was an average area. Normal flora and fauna. In fact, it was kinda impressive how well the area seemed to be doing. There was hardly any trash, no signs of destruction, no weird occurrences. It made you feel kinda happy. You went about your days just noting stuff down, humming happily all the while.

It was fine until the staring started. It began with a squirrel or two. They would just sit there, unmoving, unblinking, always just in the corner of your vision. Odd, sure, but maybe they were trying to see if they could get some of your food you always carried with you? Days passed and it escalated to a couple of birds added in, perched on branches and hidden by thick leaves. Then some bunnies, not even eating or twitching their little noses.

You thought you were going crazy, but nothing could prepare you for when the bigger animals started doing the same damn thing. The deer were one thing, already unsettling and strange, but having a bear watch you, still as a stagnate pond, was terrifying. You weren’t sure what to make of it. The only time the oddly behaving creatures would move were when either you’d get too close (in which they’d back off) or when you explored the forest (in which they’d follow after you in some sort of procession). 

You noted it all down of course. You assumed that it might be an illness, or perhaps they were used to humans? But they didn’t look unwell, and from what you understood, this place was rather isolated, so there was no reason for them to approach you this often. You felt a sense of growing unease with each passing day, with each filled page in your field journal. This was getting too weird. The thing of note was obviously the staring, but you figured that it was definitely not in your area of expertise.

That’s why, after weeks of camping and surveying the woods, you decided to get the fuck out of there. 

You packed up your campsite with little fanfare, hundreds of tiny gazes trained on your back. You glanced around as you loaded up a final few things into your truck, and you had only just realized then how many of them there were. The fauna crowded around the clearing you had settled in like a bated audience, and you shuddered. If you weren’t getting paid so much to stake it out here, then you probably would’ve hightailed it much faster.

“Okay… got my keys…” You mumbled and shuffled through your pockets quickly to make sure you weren’t leaving anything behind. “Should be good to go now.”

“Go where?”

You spun around, nearly jumping out of your skin in shock. Behind you stood a man, imposingly tall with a stony expression and dark skin. You pressed your hand to your now rapidly beating chest as he towered over you with a tilted head.

“Where are you going?” He repeated, and he prompted out a hand that was seemingly carved out of a deep bark to beckon your words out. You were shocked. His hair was seemingly made of vines connecting him to the earthen ground and shifting in unnatural ways.

“Uhhhh, back home?” Was all you could say in a slightly unsure voice. Seriously, you were at a loss for words. You had never seen such a person, and through your stuttering mind, you were able to guess that whatever was wrong with this place was probably his doing.

The man’s eyebrows (which looked as if they had been carved into his face) furrowed slightly. He placed a hand on his chin in contemplation, his dark hollow eyes and pure emerald pupils narrowing slightly.

“But,” he started, and it felt like his words rung over a hundred times in your head, shaking and lumbering through every node of your soft brain tissue. “But I thought you had come to live here,” He mumbled and reached forward to touch your arm. You flinched back on instinct, and his lips pressed into a thin line.

“Flower…” The man chided softly. His seeking fingers were more insistent this time, and you could not move back quickly enough before he was snatching you up and drawing you close. You cried out softly as you fell against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and sighed, shivering in contentment. You cringed at the feeling of shifting, wriggling grass and vines.

“Flower, surely you must know that you cannot go,” He sighed while he ran his hands over your scalp. You blinked. Flower… why was he calling you this? You pushed him back slightly, just to look him in the face.

“I’m sorry but, who are you?” You asked. It wasn’t just a name thing, but rather to say ‘who do you think you are?’. He hummed in response, and you can see him taking in every little thing about you. Suddenly, he laughed.

“Don’t you think it’s cruel, my flower? You ask my name but I know naught of yours,” He said with affection blooming between every roll of his tongue. Your vision spun, and suddenly your back was pressed against soft earth and damp grass. You gasped and cried out. Before you could even protest, your shirt was ripped open and your pants were pulled down.

“What silly things you wear,” He chuckled and placed kisses along your neck. The feeling was strange, slightly rigid. “Is this what mortals wear nowadays? So revealing,” He murmured and toyed with the shredded fabric. Your eyes were wide, and you tried to wriggle out from under him. He merely grabbed you by the hips and pulled you back, the vines from his hair enveloping you and wrapping around your limbs. You squeaked as your thighs were pulled apart by the coiling greenery, digging into the softer flesh. 

“I must admit,” the man moved back, letting his breath ghost over your parted legs and crotch. “I was rather taken with you from the moment you arrived.” 

The strange man held you down as he buried his rugged face and strangely glowing tongue in your entrance while stroking your privates with grooved, deft fingers. Your back arched, and you desperately tried to break free. Your frantic pleas for release were soon broken by the sounds of your breathy moans, and your voice rang like a bell in the clearing. Each lap of his rugged tongue sent shivers down your spine and had your toes curling. 

“W-what? Stop that! Let me go!”

Your keys were discarded in the grass, and those fucking animals just kept staring. You could see your writhing, pinned form in the reflection of hundreds of deep, black unblinking pools. You felt sick to your stomach, and no amount of fluttering arousal could disguise that.

“It’s been so long since I’ve had company, and you come here looking like that. No, you’re going nowhere, flower.”

It felt like years were passing as he kissed, licked and held your hips in place with a tender firmness that would have you blushing if he was your lover. Or at least a lover you chose. Your begging was drowned out by your own frantic heartbeat and the humiliating squelch of your own pleasure. Never had you faced such cruel adoration, such gentle violence. Any place that had previously shown off exposed skin was kissed in a brief moment of reprieve from the onslaught. Your arms, your calves, your collar bones which had only just peaked out from under the neckline of your shirt.

Your truck, covered in mud, but still rather nice nonetheless, slowly began to be pulled into the ground by the flowers and flora rapidly growing on the vehicle. Your things! You tried to reach for them, but a hand of his reached up and entwined his fingers with yours.

Your screams of both pleasure and fear were carried by the wind, weaving through trees and filling the forest as naturally as the rustle of leaves. He continued to eat you out, and it was like you could feel his words in your head simply from the graze of his palm. It was overwhelming, and with each wave of heat, each tremble of your body, you sank further and further into his hold.

“Oh, look at you, my flower,” He pressed reverent kisses to your naval. “How you shall bloom in my care.”

More pressure, more bitter white flashes dancing across your vision as you keened and cried. Branches rustled around your face, and you wondered when they had even gotten there in the first place. They sprouted from his back and shielded you from the sun and sky. 

“-made for me-”

“-love…”

“Flower…my flower…”

You caught bits and pieces of his voice, nestled in your ears like sticky pollen. It was too much, and all at once you had come undone, spilling over his face with an anguished, strangled noise.

It was hard to think after that. All you could feel, all you could know was that you were being dragged back into those deep, dark, very wrong woods with a loving smile slotted against your lips and flowers in your hair.

[theeartuaist]

The App

It started with the app.

You never downloaded it. You never saw it download. It just appeared on your phone one grey Tuesday afternoon nestled between your weather app and your calendar like it had always belonged there. It wasn't sleek or modern but oddly anachronistic, with an interface that reminded you of Windows 95 and an icon that seemed to shift slightly when you weren't looking directly at it.

"TrueMate" it was called, in soft pink font, glowing gently, innocuous. You told yourself it must’ve come from an ad you accidentally clicked. Maybe during that 3 a.m. scroll through horror subreddits or that article on cursed love letters.

You should have deleted it immediately. Instead, you shrugged. Curiosity is always the first thread pulled. You opened it. You swiped once and that was all it took.

"Match found," the screen declared without requiring a profile, photo, or even your name.

Just one match: Raye.

Just Raye, no last name, new to the area. Picture: pale skin, high cheekbones, lips too red, eyes too dark. His profile picture had an uncanny quality to it, as if several photographs had been mercilessly stitched together by an algorithm with unusual ideas about human faces.

Then, a message pinged from Raye:

Hello. I would like to meet you.

Yoy should have closed the app. Instead, you found yourself typing back:

That's a bit forward. You don't even know me.

I know you are the one I want to meet. Tomorrow? Coffee? I have researched the proper courtship ritual. I will arrive with flowers. You will be impressed.

The oddness of his phrasing made you smile. A foreigner, perhaps, or someone on the spectrum with an endearing directness?

He picked the café. It was one of those cosy tucked-away places with mismatched mugs and a chalkboard menu filled with ironic puns.

Raye greeted you the next day. You weren’t catfished at least - he was tall and almost aggressively ordinary, with a face you'd forget while still looking at it. His suit was impeccable but somehow wrong—like it had been chosen by carefully studying magazine ads without understanding context. He clutched a bouquet of flowers that still had the price tag attached.

"These are for you," he announced at a volume slightly too loud for the quiet café. "I have purchased the traditional courtship flora."

You accepted them with murmured thanks, noticing how his fingers seemed to bend at odd angles when he released the stems.

"I have secured beverages and circular sweet bread items. Please sit so we may progress to the next stage," he said, watching you with unblinking eyes.

You chatted. It was normal. Almost. Raye had opinions about everything that seemed quoted directly from somewhere else—movie reviews, political commentaries, song lyrics—all delivered with the same intense sincerity. He laughed exactly three seconds after you made jokes, his head tilting at precisely the same angle each time. When he reached for his coffee, his movements were fluid but somehow rehearsed, as if he'd practised in front of a mirror.

"Your species fascinates me," he said after you mentioned your job.

"My species of [your job]?" You replied with a laugh.

"Yes. That." He leaned forward suddenly. "I have observed that after the initial meeting comes the small talk, then the revealing of childhood traumas, then the physical connection. We have completed two stages. Tell me about your childhood disappointments."

Something in his expression made you change the subject to movies instead. His knowledge was encyclopedic yet strangely hollow, as if he'd memorized IMDB entries without watching the films.

"You enjoy stories where humans overcome obstacles and form mating bonds," he observed.

"That's one way to describe romantic comedies, I suppose."

His eyes seemed to recalculate something. "Yes. Human romantic comedies. I enjoy them as well, as a human."

The conversation continued like that for an hour—moments of almost-normality interrupted by statements just odd enough to make you wonder if you was being pranked. But there was something compelling about Raye's attention, the way he absorbed your words as if they were precious.

You were halfway through your drink when, with the abruptness of someone following a script to the letter, he placed his hand on yours and said:

"Let's get married."

You choked. Tea went up your nose. “Sorry, what!?” you said, coughing and wiping your mouth.

Confusion flickered across his face, and his eyes had gone completely flat. "What do you mean? I'm not a stranger anymore," he said, his voice modulating into something softer. "I'm your fiancé. I just proposed."

The café seemed to grow quieter, the background noise fading. You pulse quickened as you pulled your hand away.

"There must be some misunderstanding - that's not how anything works - this is our first date. We literally met like an hour ago. People date for months, years even, before getting engaged."

"Incorrect," Raye replied, producing a small notebook from his pocket. He flipped through pages filled with what looked like screenshots. "In 'The Proposal,' Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds become engaged after knowing each other for 3 years, 2 months as work colleagues. But in 'Leap Year,' Amy Adams decides to propose after 4 years of dating. In 'Sweet Home Alabama,' they were married in childhood. And in 'The Bachelor,' multiple women compete for one marriage proposal in a matter of weeks." He looked up triumphantly. "The data is inconsistent. I have chosen the most efficient option."

Something cold slithered down your spine. "Are you... quoting movies to me?"

"I have conducted extensive research on human mating rituals," he said, tilting his head at that familiar angle. "I have watched 247 romantic comedies, 183 dramas involving romance, and 62 reality television shows about finding mates. I have identified the pattern. First meeting, then coffee, then proposal. We are proceeding correctly."

"That's not real life. Those are stories, fantasies."

His expression shifted again, this time to something you couldn't quite place—disappointment mixed with the concentration of someone recalibrating complex calculations.

"I see. I have misunderstood." He blinked rapidly. "Then we must proceed to the next step where one of us runs through an airport to prevent the other from leaving, or perhaps stands outside with a music-playing device held overhead, or perhaps, we should wait for it to rain and exchange a kiss-”

That's when you noticed his reflection in the window behind him—or rather, the place where his reflection should have been. Instead, there was a shimmer in the air, vaguely human-shaped but rippling like heat waves off summer asphalt.

"What are you?" You whispered.

"I am Raye," he said with a smile that showed too many teeth. "I selected this name because it contains 50% of the same letters as 'mate.' I have been studying humans for what you would measure as 3.2 Earth years. You are the first specimen I have selected for my personal research."

He reached across the table again, his fingers elongating slightly as they approached yours. "The app was merely a formality. I have been observing you for 76 days. You are perfectly ordinary, which makes you extraordinarily perfect."

You stood up so quickly your chair clattered to the floor. "I need to go."

"Are you…rejecting me?” He tilted his head, frowning. "I have proposed marriage. You are supposed to say yes after initial reluctance. That is how the story proceeds."

"This isn't a movie, Raye."

"No," he agreed, "Movies end. What I propose is much more permanent."

As you backed away, heading for the door, Raye remained seated, watching you with those unblinking eyes. Just before you reached the exit, your phone chimed with a notification.

A new message in the app that shouldn't exist: The courtship ritual is not complete. We will try again with the correct sequence. I have much to learn, and you are the perfect teacher.

You deleted the app the moment you got home. It reappeared the next morning—nestled between weather and calendar, as if it had always belonged there. Because of course it did!

(Because for some beings, a story doesn't end until they understand the proper way to tell it. And Raye seemed determined to get this story right. However, many revisions it might take.)

next chapter

[thewritingfairy]

↪ 04. Distraction is the best medication inspired by acid-ixx, rizzanon and nikovraskol

PREV PART trigger warnings: medical + emotional/physical neglect, high pain, flashbacks, enabling, shouting main m.list series m.list

 

Your baking had been a success, your cake for mama Angelica was perfect. The decoration (courtesy of your friend Flora) looked gorgeous, your cookies were smelling amazing, and the cake you made from left over batter looked delicious. You just couldn’t wait to try them, but right now the kitchen must be cleaned. You just need a minute to catch your breath, so you sit down on the kitchen stool but something feels off. You feel dizzy, more so then usual. “I need to stay seated for a while,” you blurt out, causing your friends to stop chatting. Your eyes unfocused, your hands shaking just ever so light. But most importantly, you looked like you were about to drop death. “I’ll help with the clean up-”

“How long has it been since you’ve eaten?” Maria interrupts you, grabbing a glass out of the cupboard as your youngest friend, Willow, grabs a cookie and hands it you. “you look like you haven’t eaten all day.”

You hum nervously; “Well, I might have only eaten an apple before I left the house….”

“...You better be joking,” Maria hisses as she gives you a glass of water. “you are eating that cookie, rest while we clean this up and then I am going to make you a meal.” You giggle nervously, however Maria isn’t playing around. Neither are the rest of your friends. “Doesn’t that butler, mr. Pennyworth, always make sure you eat before you leave?”

You throw your head back as you sigh; “Jason and Richard are at the manor.”

Your friends blink and turn to look at each other. “That Jason?” Francis, Willow’s older brother and one of your closest friends, asks. “The Jason that should be in jail?”

“You mean the Jason that faked his death?!” Willow shouts before you could respond. “The bitch ass that got Mr Wayne to disregard you even more, the bitch ass that destroyed your mother’s heirlooms?!”

Maria whistles anxiously, signalling to your other friends that it’s time to clean up. Francis and Willow are a duo that you do not want to cross when they are pissed off. You wince and rub your arm gently. You’re too exhausted and too pain ridden to talk about this right now. “Guys, I don’t really want to talk about this in my current state,” when those words left your mouth Francis and Willow’s expression soften, they don’t want to cause you stress. But their anger at Jason coming over to the manor was something you could understand. It’s anger you feel as well. It’s anger that has consumed you since the day Jason got that terrifying crazed look in his eyes and destroyed the last view things you had of your mother. But that anger meant Jason had a hold over you, that he had power of you, and now you’ve let go of that anger. Jason doesn’t deserve anything when it comes to you.

He doesn’t deserve your anger, he doesn’t deserve your tears, your mother does and ancestors do. You tried to fix the heirlooms and most you were able to save, but you still had a box full of shards and remains of heirlooms that were even older than the whole Wayne family combined. You still hold the grief of never learning about your mother’s family, you still hold grief over the things you never learned.“He no longer has any power over me,” you whisper, your voice breaking as tears threaten to fall down your face. “I just don’t want to see him.”

“And that’s alright,” Francis whispers, sitting in front of you on his knees as he takes your hand. “as Maxwell always says, chose your own peace. Not what makes them more comfortable.”

“However,” Willow interjects. “Do eat, your body needs nutrition. Especially with what it goes through every day.”

“….I know, I just wasn’t hungry,” you say as you felt the need to justify your actions. “I was nervous for that job interview, wow.”

“Yeah who knew Penguin would be such a good employer,” Maria comments as she takes out a pan from the pantry. “Why don’t you guys go sit in the living room, my parents and sister aren’t coming home until like 8 pm so we can just watch whatever on the TV.”

Flora gasps dramatically. “We are re-watching Winx the rainbow seasons!”

“Fine by me,” you say with a shrug. “can someone help me get over to the couch though? I still feel a bit light-headed and I do not trust my legs right now.”

“Understandable,” Willow hums as she helps you up and intertwines your arms. “especially with how clumsy you can be. Like who thought of that combination?”

“The universe.” Francis deadpans.

“Bitch.” Willow curses as she sticks her tongue out.

You’re glad, distraction is the best medicine against high pain (and quite frankly the Rainbow version of the early Winx seasons are amazing and filled with nostalgia). Your brain was no longer focused on the extremes of what could have happened if life went differently. Sure, your pain’s still prevalent and your eyes are heavy with exhaustion. But you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

“Alright who wants a plate besides (Name)?”

this chapter will have a side story diving deeper into what Jason did (you won't need to read this for future chapters but it will give more context), thank you for reading<3 NEXT PART

Taglist: @prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue, @shadowytravelerlover, @1abi, @leeiasure, @frank-vanderboom, @stove-top96, @amber-content, @lithiumval, @bunniotomia, @chericia, @marsmabe, @cssammyyarts, @lingxio, @foolishseven, @kore-of-the-underworld, @bunbunboysworld, @homeless-clown, @alwaysholymilkshake, @miashico, @kittzu

[styllwaters]

If you’re taking requests I’d enjoy seeing some wildlife from the Arrows’ home planet.

An arrow ask is like treasure to me so I held off answering for months because I wanted to draw something special baha sorry anon. Same goes for every other ask but rest assured I will get to them Here's a menagerie of balloon animals who share Hanidias with the arrows. All have evolved in accordance with the planet's low gravity conditions.

More info and facts below the cut :]

BELLS A common sight on nearly every continent of Hanidias. Bells resemble jellyfish and crinoids in appearance and have a limited range of movement, only able to control their altitude by inflating and deflating their gas bladder. They are subject to wind currents and they will often be blown in to urban areas in large swathes. When aeroplankton is in abundance, 'blooms' of Bells can appear, which can consist of up to 50,000 individuals or more. These can blot out the sun and cause major blockages on skypaths. When this happens specialised teams of arrows are called in to 'vacuum' up the mass. Bells are frequently involved in collisions with vehicles travelling at high speeds.

BLANKETS

Blankets are widely considered a staple food across the globe. I've mentioned them before in this post. I know you asked for wildlife and these guys are domesticated but they're an iconic part of the landscape so I figured they deserved a spot. The largest blanket farms can be viewed from space and cover millions of hectares. In the wild, individual plankton produce an adhesive substance and cling together in thin white sheets which drift freely in the wind. The feeding tendrils of arrows and kites are specially adapted to break apart these structures for consumption.

HARPOONS

Swift and efficient hunters, harpoons are one of the most commonly feared animals among arrows. They're frequently portrayed as villainous characters in folklore and media. Harpoon populations have faced decline in the past due to poaching (their spears are highly sought after) but conservation efforts have proved successful. Males are distinguished by the extra point underneath their spears. NOMADS Desert-roaming solitary animals, nomads are a rare sight. As their name suggests, they travel for miles in search of food and water. They 'walk' by propelling themselves along the ground with their tentacles and are supported by their enlarged gas bladder. They are capable of gliding short distances.

KITES

Arrows share approximately 95% of their DNA with kites, who are considerably larger. They are characterised by their small bell-to-body ratio and relatively low contrast in pigmentation. Modern arrows appear to exhibit neotenous features with lankier proportions than their ancestors. Kites have less maneuverability to escape predators such as harpoons, instead opting for camouflage with dark colouration to blend in with the landscape below. For context most flora on Hanidias is primarily black and grey.

Kites are often seen sporting tassels on their membranes, sessile filter-feeding parasites which hitch rides on large animals. In large numbers they can weigh down the kite and cause skin irritation.

[illumivier]

breathe | rafayel

trying to get away from the fast paced city life, you stumble across a charming merman during a trip back to your hometown.

content: merman!rafayel, rafayel x reader, small town au, fluff, humour, raf is naked for five seconds

word count: 4.2k

note: this is just a product of raf’s new myth (still not over it) and me watching aquamarine one too many times in my life 😭 enjoy!

Mermaid sightings were a common occurrence in the quaint little beach town where you grew up. Be it scary stories to keep the kids away from the high tides or the various conspiracy theories spread around the schools and workplaces — as a child with no stable internet access and only one yearly trip to the city for Christmas, you believed it all. Perhaps it was because nobody around you ever questioned the existence of them. The charming town was rich in culture and history where both young and old enjoyed passing around folktales about the civilisation under the sea.

There was also the fact that you swore on your own life that you saw a mermaid for yourself. At the tender age of ten, you were ankle deep in the beach sand and staring much too closely at the horizon when you saw it in the distance. An iridescent tail and long tresses of dark hair flailing in the sky before disappearing back into the water. You had scurried to the boardwalk and shared your sighting to anyone who would listen.

But then you got older. You left for the big city and your childhood mermaid tails became nothing but a lighthearted conversation starter. People would laugh, they’d call your childlike wonder cute before moving on to something else. Eventually you started to wonder if you were just naive having grown up so isolated from the fast paced reality of those your age. It was probably time to grow up and leave those silly fantasies behind just like how you’d packed up your suitcases five years ago.

But how could anyone just ignore something that they’d seen so clearly as a child? How could you stuff that memory into the back of your mind, never to be mentioned again? Maybe the years away from your little hometown had given you these sensationalised thoughts and memories that probably weren’t true at all.

So after being away from it all, you decided to pay a visit to your old backwards beach town.

You stood at the shoreline, your feet dipping into the wet sand as you waited for the gentle wave to hit you. There was something so comforting about it, the repetitive motion of being splashed then gradually being pulled deeper and deeper into the water until the lifeguard yelled at you for not staying in the demarcated lines. The way each wave was bigger or smaller than the last, the distant laughter of the children playing in the sand and the warmth of the sun on your skin, it was a sharp contrast from the fast paced, bustling city.

The peace was momentarily disrupted by a beach ball smacking your backside and you flinched, turning around to see a group of primary school kids sheepishly waving at you to throw the ball back. You lazily stumbled out of the water to return the ball to them, giving them a small smile as they thanked you politely before grabbing your towel and strolling down the length of the beach. Your sandals weren’t offering much support but you enjoyed the feeling of the coarse sand against your feet. Nothing would feel more like home than this.

You knew if you walked further enough you’d end up at a secluded rock pool, shaded enough to shield you from the blistering sunshine and quiet enough to dissociate yourself from your endless thoughts. As soon as you arrived, you threw your towel off and sat down at the edge, dipping your bare feet into the icy water. A tall rock wall separated you from the rest of the beach, covered in overgrown flora. The gentle slosh of the water grounded you and made you appreciate your decision to take some time off. The town was just as beautiful as you remembered, albeit the mermaid stories had toned down. It was probably just different experiencing everything as an adult now and not a simple minded kid.

The atmosphere was so serene that you unconsciously closed your eyes, leaning back on your elbows and inhaling the distinct smell of saltwater and moss.

And then you felt a tug on your ankle which jolted you right out of your short lived daze. You frantically sat upright, your eyes darting around the pool but finding nothing. You looked down at your feet still submerged in the water and there was nothing hooked onto you, no bugs, no leaves, no litter. Absolutely nothing.

The pool remained eerily still as you tried to convince yourself that it was most likely just a ripple in the water that had given you a shock. And you would’ve happily believed that explanation had it not been for the man that just popped his head up from under the water a small distance away, even though everything had been clear just a moment ago.

Out of pure shock, you screamed before clamping your hand over your mouth and pulling your legs out of the water.

“What the hell dude?” You asked in exasperation once you’d calmed down from the initial surprise.

“I thought you were sleeping.” The man said calmly, his long purple hair resting in the water like a cloak around his bare shoulders. His matching eyes shone almost unnaturally.

“So you decide to just grab my leg?” You frowned at him in annoyance, trying to ignore the unsettling feeling you got when he looked right at you, “you can go to jail for that.”

“I can?” He titled his head to the side cluelessly, “you humans are always so harsh.”

“You hum- why did you say tha-“

The answer to your question came out before you could even finish asking it. The man paddled closer and behind him was a large, shimmering fish tail splashing against the water. He swam to the edge of the rock pool where you were seated and rested his head on his arms, smiling up at you in amusement.

“I thought you believed in merpeople?” He asked cheekily as if he were enjoying how flustered you were becoming, “didn’t the founder of your town fall in love with one of us?”

That was true. It was an old tale told to kids before they could even talk yet. You hadn’t believed it more than you did right then and there, staring at this man with his majestic tail lazily swinging back and forth above the water’s surface. You were rooted to your spot, staring at the creature in disbelief with your knees pressed against your chest and your mouth slightly ajar.

“Well?” He cocked his head to the side, letting little trickles of water roll down his porcelain face.

“I- uh I-“ You stammered, unable to even process your thoughts, better yet formulate a coherent sentence.

“Oh cutie I’ve got no time for this, I’m in danger.” The merman let out a deep breath dramatically.

“Danger? What do yo-“

“It’s fishing season you see,” he explained theatrically, a certain flair to his voice and mannerisms that were both amusing and captivating, “all the sharks are getting closer to the surface and, let’s face it, who wouldn’t want a bite of me?”

“Uh I mean-“

“So naturally I swam for my life and I was oh so fortunate to come across a kind human like yourself,” he interrupted you again, “now won’t you be a doll and help me?”

“Help you? Um uh… I’m not exactly experienced in fighting sharks.” You responded awkwardly.

“Cutie, I’m not asking you to fight a shark,” he giggled, the sound echoing against the rocks, “just hide me for a bit yeah? When the sun goes down it’ll be safer for me to swim along home.”

“Where um… where would I hide you?” You scratched the back of your neck, peering down at him still relaxing in the water — not at all like someone being chased down by a shark.

“You’ve got a house?” He asked.

“Yeah but-“

“That’ll do!” He grinned and before you knew it, he was hauling himself out of the water.

Your eyes widened as his tail disappeared behind a whirlwind of droplets only to be replaced by a pair of tanned slender legs. His skin was damn and flawless, his delicate hair reaching the backs of his knees. He stood there proudly, hands on his hips and wearing absolutely… nothing.

You shrieked, immediately closing your eyes and turning your back to him. “You’re naked!”

“Very minuscule things seem to bother you, cutie.” He said in a thoughtful tone, as if you were the peculiar creature that required further observation.

“Well, if we have to make it up to my house you can’t be walking around naked.” You insisted, your eyes still closed as you fished for your beach towel.

“Very well, I’m willing to stoop down to these excessive human customs,” he grumbled, spreading his arms out as you quickly wrapped the towel around his waist and secured it tightly, “where can I find a getup like yours, dear?”

“Uh we can probably stop by the boardwalk and get you a bathing suit.” You stood back as your eyes opened and you finally took him in in all his glory. He stood a few spaces taller than you with a sharp, dainty nose, bright, inquisitive eyes and soft, pink lips, making him prettier than any man you’d met before.

He snickered when he caught you staring up at him in awe. He reached out to playfully poke your nose to get your attention back to the conversation at hand. His bony finger was cold and a bit sticky.

“It's impolite to stare,” he teased, “perhaps… you have a question for me? Or maybe several?”

“What’s your name?” You asked softly when you finally found your voice again.

“Rafayel,” he answered smugly, like even knowing his name was a privilege, “and what’s yours?”

“______.” You replied, creeping away from the rock pool as you scoped out the area for anyone passing by.

“And are you a peasant or noble or something in between?” Rafayel asked nonchalantly, hovering behind you until you could literally feel his breath on the back of your neck. How was he walking and breathing right now? Why did he just blindly trust you when any regular person would run at the opportunity to shove him in a science lab? Was he just naive? The questions in your mind seemed endless.

“In our world we don’t have things like that.” You explained, trying to remain calm as you walked out onto the beach. Time had seemed to stop at the rock pool, but back on the beach things were just as you left them. People were still diving in the gentle waves, playing volleyball or enjoying ice cream sundaes on the pier.

“You seem like something in between,” he rambled on, falling into step next to you, “your choice of clothing is very… modest, but with your kindness I think you’d make a nice servant back at my palace.”

Your gaze unconsciously fell down to your attire, a simple bathing suit that you’d owned for years and a pair of flats. Your face grew warm at his blunt comment but you brushed it off. Clearly merpeople, or at least the ones like him, preferred to be straight forward.

“Your palace? So you’re a noble?” You asked despite your eyes not meeting his. Instead your attention was everywhere else, taking in the obvious stares and murmurs from the people you passed by. It wasn’t everyday you’d see a six foot tall man with long, flowy purple hair and confidence that would leave anyone speechless.

“Cutie, I'm the prince of Lumeria,” he announced with that flamboyant drawl that you were quickly becoming accustomed to, “this part of the ocean is practically all mine.”

“You should do something about the sharks then.” You pointed out rather cheekily, a small smile coming onto his face as he scoffed.

“Those heinous creatures cannot be controlled, even by the prince himself,” Rafayel rolled his eyes before stopping dead in his tracks, “hmm what’s that?”

You followed his gaze to the local ice cream parlour, a tiny haven offering ice pops and ice cream cones to beat the sweltering heat.

“Uh ice cream? It’s a dessert,” You explained, watching as he stared intently at a couple sharing a soda float, “why don’t we get ice cream after we find you some clothes?”

“Oh that would be splendid.” A grin formed onto Rafayel’s face, making him almost appear… endearing.

You led him away to the nearest swimwear boutique, greeting the familiar owner briefly before shoving Rafayel into the men’s section. The poised prince strolled through the racks of swimming trunks and rash guards before his eyes lit up and he pulled out the loudest pair of swim shorts you’d seen in your entire life. Bright blue with red and yellow surfboards patterned all over, he seemed so proud of his choice and you didn’t have the heart to tell him you thought they looked hideous. So with that, Rafayel ducked into the change room to slip on his trunks while you paid the cashier.

“It’s much hotter up here than I expected.” Rafayel fanned himself as you both walked back to the ice cream shop.

“Why don’t you tie your hair up?” You instinctively tugged the hairband off your wrist and held it up to him.

“You have the honour.” He hummed before turning his back to you.

You blinked twice, frozen for a moment before you realised that he was waiting for you to tie his hair back. Your hands gingerly raised up to the nape of his neck, slowly gathering up his copious amount of hair between your fingers. The amethyst strands were wiry but soft, heavy as you secured them back with the hairband. Once he had a decent ponytail, you took a step back to admire your work.

“That feels much better cutie, thanks.” Rafayel whipped around quick enough to catch your shy smile and give you a sly one of his own.

“Why do you keep calling me cutie?” You pondered, heading into the parlour with him.

“Because you’re a cutie,” he shrugged like it was the most obvious answer before immediately getting distracted by the various desserts and ice cream flavours on display, “what’s the best one to try?”

“Probably the pistachio sir.” The shop attendant suggested politely, amused by Rafayel’s childlike wonder as he pressed his hands and face against the glass display.

“I’ll most definitely be having that.” He said firmly.

“It’s a bit of an acquired taste, Rafayel, you might not-“

“Don’t worry cutie, if it’s a customer favourite, I will most probably enjoy it.”

You sighed softly at his insistence and ordered two ice cream cones, one caramel and one pistachio. You both exited the shop and settled down on a nearby bench to finish your cones. Rafayel took an adventurous lick of his ice cream and he most definitely did not enjoy it, judging by the way his face scrunched up in disgust.

“Here, I’ll have yours.” He held his cone in front of your face and already swooped in to grab yours.

“Wait what? You already licked it.” You complained, holding your own cone out of his reach.

“Oh come on, I’m the cleanest fish in the sea.” He pouted adorably and it would’ve taken a great amount of willpower to deny him — willpower that you obviously did not have as you reluctantly swapped cones with him.

“Ah much better.” He smiled contentedly, humming in delight at the caramel taste.

“You’re lucky I do enjoy pistachio.” You mumbled.

“I’ve been having quite the lucky day it seems,” he laughed under his breath, “and it all started by stumbling across you.”

“You should thank the shark.” You replied dryly, but it earned a hearty laugh out of him.

“Speaking of which,” he popped the last bit of his cone into his mouth before turning to face you — it was an adorable quirk you’d noticed how all his attention had to be on you when addressing you, “are we going to your house now?”

“My…? Oh yes, right this way.” You got up from your seat, dusting the crumbs off your shorts.

“Hold on, cutie.” Rafayel stood up as well before abruptly reaching out to touch your face, to which you instinctively jumped back.

“What are you doing?” Your eyes blew wide before relaxing when you saw the confused look on his face.

“You have some ice cream on your lips, I wanted to wipe it away.” He frowned sassily, his hands finding refuge on his hips instead.

“I see… sorry I was just startled.” You shook your head, gesturing for him to start following you.

“I was just trying to copy that fella over there,” he explained, a pep in his step as he walked next to you, “it was so cute the way he cleaned the young lady’s face, do humans do that often?”

You both strolled away from the boardwalk and navigated through the old wooden shops and apartment buildings, taking it slow on the uphill stoned pathways. The warm breeze rustled against your skin and golden hue was beginning to engulf the town, signalling that the sun would be setting any time now and this crazy experience would be over soon. You felt as though you were lucid dreaming, ready to wake up in a cold sweat and realise all of this — the handsome merman entrusting you with his life — would be gone in the morning.

“Only when they’re in an intimate relationship,” you explained, your eyes straight ahead as your small family home came into view, “friends don’t usually do things like that.”

“Oh splendid, are we considered friends?” He asked in delight.

“I guess so?” You turned your head to catch the satisfied grin on his lips and the way the afternoon sun was bouncing off his skin.

“Is this your home?” He snapped you out of your daze as he calmly walked to your front door and began jostling the handle.

“Yes, sorry it’s locked.” You laughed, rushing to his side and using your key to open the sticky wooden door.

The house was small, a standard size for your humble neighbourhood. With well loved pieces of mismatched furniture, shelves packed with generations of family memorabilia and wooden walls and floorboards that had corroded over years and years of being near the ocean — it was home and it gave you an immense amount of comfort that made this impromptu trip all worth it.

Rafayel looked so out of place, his undeniable aura seeming so huge in this cozy, simple place. But he didn’t seem to mind at all. If anything he seemed so fascinated by everything.

“Do you stay here alone?” He asked as he inspected every corner, haphazardly lifting up different picture frames and trinkets that caught his attention.

“Um yes but just for this vacation,” you hovered behind him, making sure he didn’t break anything, “it’s my childhood home.”

“Then that cutie must be you.” He grinned, pointing towards a rather embarrassing photo of you plopped down in the backyard as a chubby, snotty little kid.

“Yeah that’s me.” You sighed softly.

“So you’re here for a vacation? A holiday?” He asked curiously before he flung the back double doors wide open and sauntered onto the porch that overlooked the entire town.

“Yes I um… I hadn’t been back to my hometown for a bit so I wanted to come and visit,” you said as you stood next to him, your eyes fixed on him while he stared out at the view in front of him, “it gets a bit stuffy and overwhelming in the city sometimes so… it’s nice to just take things slow.”

You didn’t know why you added that last part. He didn’t ask for further explanation and yet you found the words just fell off your lips so easily. You couldn’t explain why; maybe it was his naivety or his curiosity or the fact that this either wasn’t real or it’d be over soon enough, the strangely charming merman made you want to open up. It was like seeing this mystical being healed that little kid in you that believed in him all this time.

“Slow is good,” he let out a small huff of laughter, his hands perched on his hips as he turned to look at you, “like today, we didn’t do much but I really enjoyed myself.”

“Anyways… the sun is gonna set soon, I’m sure that shark has stopped looking for you.” You stated in amusement.

“Ah…” Rafayel smiled sheepishly, a flush of heat rising to his face as he averted his gaze again, “about that…”

“Rafayel…” You frowned, folding your arms and squaring up to him.

“There… may… not have been a shark to begin with,” he said through awkward, breathless chuckles, “who’s to say?”

“I should’ve guessed,” you groaned, closing and opening your eyes briefly, “from the get go you didn’t exactly look like someone hiding for your life.”

“I just… I’ve never been to the surface before and when I stumbled across a human that wasn’t coming at me with a spear and a fishing net,” Rafayel sighed dramatically, “I saw the opportunity and took it… I’m… sorry…”

You stifled a slight laugh as he forced out the apology. Clearly a prince of his calibre was used to charming his way into everything he wanted, he had no need to be apologising for anything.

“You didn’t have to lie though,” you shrugged, all your suspicions dissipating, “if you wanted a tour guide, I would’ve happily done it anyways.”

“Oh cutie, you’re just beautiful inside and out!” He gushed and suddenly scooped you up into a tight embrace, “trust the heavens for allowing me to meet the most amazing human!”

You found yourself laughing at his theatrics, unconsciously wrapping your arms around his shoulders and dissolving into his hug. He was so warm from a day spent in the sun and his long ponytail fell over his shoulder, ticking your skin here and there like delicate butterfly kisses. You gently pulled away, your hands secured on his bare shoulders as you looked up into his shining eyes. The sun was slowly setting behind him and it felt as if you were in a daze, time standing still.

“Thank you… for today.” Rafayel said in an uncharacteristically soft tone but with that airy charm still present.

And then he leaned down, nuzzling his nose against yours playfully. You couldn’t hold back that soft smile that graced your lips, quietly tugging away from him and clearing your throat.

“We don’t want the kingdom thinking their prince got captured,” you joked lightly, “should we head back?”

“Oh but their prince did have his heart captured rather,” he gracefully intertwined his fingers with yours, “but yes, do be a dear and guide me back to that rock pool.”

You walked hand in hand down the quiet pathways back to the boardwalk. The locals were packing up their shops and stalls, beach goers were washing up their sandy clothes and kids were running around, playing in the streets. The both of you bypassed all of it, too engrossed with each other as you finally arrived at the rock pool. Rafayel gently let go of your hand before climbing back into the water, submerging himself right underneath.

You crouched down near the edge of the pool, peering inside and straining your eyes under the dim lighting to see his pair of legs transform back into his large, magnificent tail. He elegantly emerged back to the surface of the water, pulling his hair out of the loose ponytail and handing the hair tie back to you.

“Keep it.” You waved him off.

“It’s a bit difficult to tie my hair like you did under water, darling.” He tilted his head to the side, resting his chin on his forearms.

“Well, just consider it a keepsake.” You smiled shyly.

“I can’t deny it’ll be nice to have something to remind me that this day was real.” Rafayel nestled closer, your faces just inches apart.

“And what keepsake do I get?” Because oh boy did you need something to acknowledge this crazy day actually happened.

“Well I guess you do deserve some compensation for being an excellent tour guide,” he hums softly, as though he were thinking about it deeply, “close your eyes cutie.”

You obliged without question, your eyes fluttering closed in anticipation. The air was still for a millisecond before you felt his breath ghosting over your face followed by a small, cold sphere being pressed against your lips. Your eyes still closed, his wet hand came up to cup your chin and coaxed your mouth open. The sphere delicately fell onto your tongue, but you couldn’t process anything fast enough before his lips were on yours in a kiss that spoke volumes. His movements were slow and calculated, careful enough not to jostle the pearl in your mouth but passionate enough that your breath was caught in your throat.

Eventually he pulled away, a playful smirk on his mouth as he watched you open your eyes in disbelief.

“Keep that pearl safe, cutie,” he slowly backed away in the water, “and who knows? Maybe I’ll visit you again soon.”

[jsooly]

death in the family (3) / sully family x human!daughter/sister!reader

synopsis, your family leaves to seek uturu with the ocean clans.

(1) / . . . / (6*) / (7) / (8* - ur here! ☆)

+ chapters with an * beside it means that it’s following atwow plot line as opposed to disconnected scenarios

norm found you passed out at your usual spot by grace's old computer, with the site 26 log archives pulled up.

jake informed him of his plan. norm was never much of a leader when it came to war, but he knew how to manage people. taking over grace's position as research head and avatar leader required a large amount of intuition. having to know what was going on in a person's head was important in this period of turmoil.

it didn't take much to read you. your eyes were puffy, cheeks streaked with tears, and the frown on your face was undeniable, even as you slept.

norm watched you grow up—watched you attach yourself to jake, as he watched the marine attach himself to you. this decision was equivalent to separating something inextricable. like attempting to pull the moon away from the tide—the water will always stretch towards it.

norm gently shook you awake.

"hey." he whispered. "don't wanna be late for dinner."

you groaned at the thought, your eyebrows downturned with just the thought of what awaited you back home. your heart squeezed thinking of your sisters and brothers waiting expectantly for your return even though your mind replayed jake's words over and over and over again.

you got up, stretching. "thanks." you mumbled as you headed out.

"wait! y/n, it's pretty dark out." he gently warned you, though you weren't in the mood to be reminded of all of pandora's dangers. "do you want to call someone to help you back?"

you shook your head. "i'll be fine. see you in the morning."

"hey." norm caught up to you, putting his hand on your shoulder. "we'll get through this, okay? like old times."

you paused, your eyes fixed on the ground. every comfort offered to you irritated you beyond belief. you found yourself grappling with a compulsive anger. you wanted to scream, what about this is 'like old times?'

you settled for a nod. because the sanest part of you counseled your temper with the fact that norm was just trying to help.

he pat you in farewell, walking you to the door. you accepted a cloak from him, as it was wet and chilly tonight. you tugged the hood over your head as you vanished into the darkness.

as you made your way through the flora, your stomach grew heavy with unease the closer you got to home. it certainly didn't help when you had to scale the gargantuan vines to high camp.

your feet touched down on the omaticaya base, and you have never been happier to feel the cold hard rocks under your feet. you decided to never climb those vines late at night ever again.

"y/n!" lo'ak appeared in front of you, his bioluminescent spots framing his feline eyes in the darkness.

you jumped, your fist flying out instinctively.

lo'ak groaned, clutching his arm in pain. "what the hell?"

"lo'ak!" you gasped, before smacking him again, hard, in annoyance. "don't scare me like that!"

"ow, why again?!" lo'ak grunted, stepping back from you with a pout. "where have you been?"

"i fell asleep at norm's." you explained, briefly glancing over his arm for any real damage. when you found none, you walked past him.

he followed you like a puppy, his eyes darting to your face every now and then to assess your mood.

"uh... mom made teylu for dinner." lo'ak perked up, hoping the familiar dish would earn some excitement from you.

"that's nice." you say plainly, too much on your mind to match his energy.

he sighed, agitated, pulling you to a stop. "i'm sorry if—" his frown deepened, his eyes avoiding yours.

your gaze focused on him, a note of concern swirling in your eyes.

"i'm sorry i didn't listen to you. i didn't mean to make things worse." he admitted. "you know, back at the shack..."

you blinked in realization, smiling to ease his apprehension. "was it a stupid decision? kinda. but you did what you felt was right. you’re good at looking out for me, but i’m even better at looking out for you. i’ve been doing it for fifteen years, you know. you need to trust me more.”

“you’re just so…” fragile. human. “small.”

“that was the one you decided on?” you smiled genuinely, your face muscles aching from ugly crying a few hours prior.

you knew what he was getting at when he trailed off. he had self-appointed himself as your bodyguard for as long as you remember, even though he was the one in need of rescuing most times.

lo’ak’s smile was sheepish. “that was the first time i saw you fight. like, really fight. scary. why doesn’t dad let you in the militia, again?”

“take a wild guess.” you prompt him as you both resume your slow pace back to the marui.

“but you could fly a scorpion!” lo’ak protested. you didn’t have an ikran. being on the ground during the raids on the RDA would be more trouble than help.

“those helicopters are for research purposes so there’s no guns on them or anything.”

before lo’ak could speak up again, tuk came racing up to you. she grabbed your hand, pulling.

“you’re back!” she exclaimed. you smiled and rubbed her head. footsteps padded closer to reveal neteyam and kiri, frowns set on their faces.

the five of you remained in a circle for a length of time, the truth hanging in the back of your heads: not for long.

the beads of the marui knocked together as neytiri emerged. “come.” she ordered. “eat.”

—

dinner was unnaturally quiet. as if everyone was afraid to chew.

you barely met jake’s eyes as he sat across from you and he barely met yours.

after a while of awkward silence, neytiri frustratedly nudged her husband. “say something.” she hissed in a whisper.

her stern expression never wavered, not even with jake’s pleading look. he sighed, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. he needed to address this with care and caution if he didn’t want it to get worse.

“baby,” he started, setting down his teylu. “i want you to know that i was upset, so i didn’t come off the way i wanted to.”

you stared him dead in the eyes, reluctantly hearing him out. you had nowhere to run.

the kids’ eyes nervously darted back and forth between their father and oldest sister, anticipating another explosive argument.

“it wasn’t easy raising you here, but i don’t regret a second of it. i’d do it the exact same way again and again. what i want to avoid is animosity towards you.” he circled the table, sitting next to you. not too close, but not far away either. “you bear so much on your shoulders, and you’ve come so far with the clan. i don’t want to see you start over with a people who are even more hostile.”

you remained silent, unable to sneak a glance at jake’s face. you feared the need to be comforted by him would be too great to stand your ground.

“i am always gonna come back for you.” he scooted closer still, desperate to catch your eyes. he couldn’t bear you being mad at him, not for one second. the way you refused to look at him wounded him greatly. “when we establish ourselves.”

the worst part about it all was you understood. you weren’t blind to reality—it would be harder to connect with other clans with a sky person in tow. the omaticaya were harsh, and you practically grew up with them. it wasn't hard to extrapolate the response from a foreign clan.

you just hoped being a family meant they’d take you with them regardless. that it wouldn’t have mattered that other peoples would reject them because that would be better than rejecting you. what was the acceptance of a clan compared to you? what happened to sullys stick together?

“y/n?” jake called softly, gentle as if not to spark your anger.

sometimes he felt he was going crazy when he recognized glimpses of neytiri in your face. nothing linked you two biologically, yet the same pensive intensity was written across your features. an unforgiving presence that’s ready to tell him off at any given moment.

it's part of the reason he chose lightning bug as your call sign. you could take and take and take all the garbage people dumped on you, but one drop too far and you lashed out. swift and precise, like lightning.

it was rare to see it once you finally learned to spare yourself the headache and handle all the backhanded comments, the outrage at your mere presence, the alienation… the more as you matured, the more garbage you were able to carry.

jake was afraid he would be the one drop to set it all up in flames. yet he almost hoped you would—he knew he deserved it.

“y/n?” he asked, even softer.

“i heard you.” was all you said, grabbing some more food.

neytiri frowned, her eyes darting to jake helplessly. jake’s shoulders slumped but he accepted that was all he was going to get.

the dinner continued relatively peacefully. jake didn’t return to his original spot, getting as close to you as you’d allow him.

—

somehow, tuk wormed her way into your sleeping pod. and then kiri moved hers closer, then lo’ak, and finally neteyam. all the kids piled onto one side, making the marui seem empty.

jake stood over his five kids, hands on his hips as he observed them fondly. neytiri came up behind him, running her hand down his back.

“there is not much you can do now. what’s done is done.”

“i don’t want her to be mad at me.” jake whispered. “i don’t want to leave like this.”

neytiri softened, resting her head against his shoulder. “her anger will leave. her hurt will remain. and it will stay this way until we come back for her.”

jake sighed, running his hand over his face roughly. “i just—i don’t know what to do. i don’t want to be in a situation out there where i have to choose them over her or her over them.”

what do you think you’re doing now? a voice in his head nagged.

his heart sunk further. he was scared, scared of what that madman would do to his family. scared that he wouldn't be around to protect you all when you needed him the most. he hoped that by moving away, quaritch would stay on his tail and lose interest in you.

neytiri raised her eyebrow, giving her husband an empathetic look. “i trust you with many things, jake. if you think it’s best to leave, i will follow. the kids will… come to understand.”

“do you think…” jake trailed off. “do you think we’ll ever be the same?”

neytiri didn’t respond. the answer was clear.

jake inhaled deeply. it was too late to turn back now.

—

toruk makto will disappear. that was jake’s promise.

tarsem was jake’s choice for olo’eyktan. unable to go through with the traditional ritual of killing the previous clan leader, he sliced jake’s chest with a heavy heart.

the leader must die. so the leader can be born.

you weren’t present at the ceremony, instead watching from afar. you watched the farewell with a growing bitterness, but you knew the biggest underlying feeling was the hurt. you didn’t want to see them go.

the clan shared your sentiment. wailing and cries filled the air.

mo’at wove mourning garments for herself and you. the two of you weren’t particularly close but you were respectful of each other’s role in the family. you often hung around her tsahik marui where soldiers come for healing.

she appreciated your extensive knowledge on the flora and fauna of pandora, often quizzing you on what she was using in her salves and ointments.

you waited with her for the sullys, tending to the ikran.

you smoothed your hand down the crest of jake’s ikran, bob. he chirred happily, flexing his wings slightly.

behind him, a woodsprite wafted along the breeze. you frowned in confusion. eywa’s seeds, all the way up here?

you watched it closely while it moved through the space as it pleased. it hovered around you, landing on your shoulder. you stood completely still, it’s delicate tendrils brushing your skin. it ballooned when it took flight once again, gaining height and finding respite atop your head.

mo’at’s sideways glance pulled you out of your wonder.

“probably got lost.” you chucked nervously, feeing scrutinized under mo’at’s steady stare. you knew where neytiri’s fiery eyes came from.

“eywa does not make mistakes, child.” she said slowly, expertly concealing her curiosity.

the sullys approached their ikran, ready to go. the woodsprite fluttered away from you.

tuk whined as she rushed up, clinging to mo’at. the grandmother soothed her.

lo’ak frowned as he approached you, unable to hide the emotion on his face. you opened your arms and he ran into them, hugging your tightly.

“come with us,” he whispered. “i’ll hide you on my ikran.”

you laughed. “we caused enough trouble this week.”

he clutched you tighter. “shut up. i’m being serious.”

“me too.” you mumbled, rubbing his back in comfort.

he pulled back, helplessness weighing down his youthful features. you offered him a sad smile before he stormed off to his ikran, wiping his face roughly.

kiri fell into your arms next. “who will help me handle with those two skxawngs?”

you snickered. “i think you’re an expert now. it’s time you take on your own apprentice.” you winked, nodding to tuk.

kiri rolled her eyes. “tuk will tell on all of us. don’t think that’s much of an alliance.” she laughed softly before her aura grew depressive.

you cocked your head. “what’s wrong?”

“it’s just—“ she sighed. “i’m worried about spider.”

spider. taken by the RDA. your jaw set with determination. you squeezed her hands. “i’ll look out for him, okay?”

her posture raised as a grateful smile replaced her frown, and she squeezed your hand in farewell. tuk jumped on you, refusing to let you go until neytiri pried her off.

"y/n," neytiri hummed, her voice soft and smooth like nectar. her head fell to her shoulder as she blinked back tears, grabbing your shoulders and pulling you into her side. she held you tightly, afraid to let go. "i will not say goodbye, because i promise you this is not the end."

"i know," you fought the ball of emotion in your chest, trying your best to remain strong for their sakes. but as soon as neytiri reluctantly released you, her hand cupping your face gently before mounting her ikran, you felt the gaping absence in your soul.

your eyes scanned the area, missing one very important person. you passed all the others preparing their ikran, rounding neteyam's steed and finding him quietly adjusting the saddle.

you crossed your arms as he ignored you. "no goodbye?"

he didn't spare you a glance, his eyebrows knitting as the frown in his face deepened.

"seriously?" you walked up closer to him, a mix of confusion and offense in your tone.

he glimpsed at you and you immediately understood. in most things, neteyam was the big one. the big guy on the field, on lookout, cleaning up after lo'ak. at home was the only place he didn't have to shoulder it all.

he had to say goodbye to his big sister, his first best friend and protector. how would he bear the weight of being jake sully's first son without jake sully's first daughter? the kids would look to him now. he would have to be the mediator, give the advice, fight the fights. neteyam was able to be brave out there because he knew you were standing behind him.

you gave him a dispirited smile as you opened your arms in invitation. once you made the gesture, he wasted no time embracing you. no words were exchanged, but the two of you shared an understanding.

"saddle up!" jake called to the family.

neteyam smiled at you, his eyes clouded. he ruffled your head before jumping on his banshee.

you stepped away from them, watching as their ikrans chirped lively. jake approached you.

"i meant what i said." jake grasped your shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly.

you were not soothed by his gesture at all. you merely nodded out of respect.

"hey," he caught your gaze, his face open and vulnerable.

you watched as neytiri led the children out. their banshees were hesitant to leave the cliff, picking up their own unwillingness to take flight in the forest for the last time.

jake held you tightly, as if letting go would make the distance between you real. he never thought he’d be apart from you—much less that it would be by his own doing.

“i'm your father, y/n. no matter what. that must mean something.” he whispered.

you begged yourself not to give in to your impulse. but regret wasn’t a enough to satiate your anger.

“my father is dead.” you bit out.

jake paused.

swift and precise, like lightning.

he exhaled softly, shakily. his face barely shifted, but something in his eyes flickered—pain, maybe understanding. he swallowed, then simply squeezed you tighter, kissing your forehead.

—

the leader must die, so the new leader can be born.

jake left tarsem in charge of the omaticaya. he was unaware he was set the stage for a different kind of leader to emerge. eywa already began to show her hand this day—you just had to realize it.

. . .

thanks for reading! <3

taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @dae-dreamer @delirious-dolce @strawbaerriesvt @avatar-lover @ryiana @lxon-kxnnedy @zukki33 @chalahyung01 @ssc7514 @shmaptainbonky

© jsooly ‘25

[prettylilyanime]

Blooming Hearts ♡ Chapter 05

˚✿˖ Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x fem reader

˚✿˖ Synopsis: All your life, you’ve had it all—wealth, beauty, and a quirk good enough to secure your spot at UA. But after three years, you still feel more like an outsider than a future hero. Social life? Barely existent. Friends? Who needs them? You’re ready to coast through your final year solo… until fate lands you squarely in the lap of a certain hot-headed blonde—literally.

˚✿˖ tags/warnings: 18+, smut in the later chapters, reader is spoiled, shy reader, they're all third years at UA, Fluff, strangers? to lovers trope, not really strangers, miscommunication, drama, y/n just wants to make friends, reader is canonically pretty, reader is a hero in training, whipped bakugou, she falls first but he falls harder

˚✿˖ Authors note: subtle yn lore gets dropped here…

˚✿˖ Masterlist ♡ Previous ♡ Next

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After Bakugou had been generous enough to help haul in your endless pile of boxes—a consequence of your admittedly irresponsible spending—it seemed he decided to spare you further torment by announcing his departure.

Something about heading to the training arena to "get some real work done."

Not that his presence was bad.

No, it was torturous in the best way possible!

The I-want-him-to-stay-in-my-room-forever-and-keep-calling-me-princess kind of way.

Did that sound crazy?

Even with your ever-growing crush on the blonde, you couldn’t deny the wave of relief that washed over you at his exit.

He’d seen you like this—flustered, fumbling, barely holding yourself together—had even insisted you put on those stupid glasses, and yet…

Somehow, it wasn’t as horrible as you expected.

A warm flutter settled in your chest at the realization. He hadn’t cared about your appearance, hadn’t picked you apart like so many others had. It was a refreshing change from the judgment you’d grown used to.

You never quite understood why people felt so comfortable talking about your looks.

You barely felt comfortable talking to people, period.

And yet, strangers—people who didn’t know a thing about you—felt entitled to comment.

Your figure was amazing. Your hair looked great. What diets had you gone on?

God…

Bakugou didn’t seem to care about any of that.

His focus had been on your vision—or lack thereof. A stupid little thing, but the fact that he didn't seem to care about your looks made your stomach twist in a way you weren’t ready to unpack.

Now, left alone in the quiet of your room, you sat cross-legged on your bed, manicured fingers scrolling through your phone.

Your official account, @OfficiallyFlora, gleamed on the screen. The blue checkmark beside your username felt more like a weight than an accomplishment.

Your profile picture, an overly polished shot of you in your glittering hero costume—stared back at you. The flawless image, taken against a pristine white backdrop, was the product of your mother’s money and marketing efforts.

It was perfect. Too perfect.

Too pretty. Too refined. Too far from the girl sitting here now, sock clad in her bedroom, still reeling from the lingering scent of caramel and smoke that Bakugou had left behind.

Are your teeth really even that white in person?

You don’t know…

Your bio reads: Official Page of Pro-Hero Prospect Flora, making your hearts bloom with every step towards justice!

You sighed, rolling your eyes hard enough to strain something. The bio had been written by your mother’s PR team, dripping with saccharine energy that made you cringe every time you read it.

The rest of your feed wasn’t much better: high-definition shots of battles, cherry blossom-themed merch promotions, and glamorous magazine features.

It was a glossy, manufactured version of you that bore little resemblance to the person staring at the screen, glasses perpetually sliding down her nose.

Growing bored of the staged content, you switched to your private account.

Your followers on this one are, well. Your classmates, surprisingly enough, and one of your mother's pool boys who had asked for your Instagram years ago before you ever even had an official page in hopes of getting to talk to you more?!

You can't help but quirk a brow, you should really get him off your page...

Here, the photos were more personal: snapshots of your travels, close-ups of meals you’d enjoyed, and a random assortment of things that caught your eye.

The likes rarely climb beyond single digits, but it was real and a better representation of yourself than the other page.

A pang of curiosity struck as your fingers moved on autopilot, typing in Bakugou’s name.

His official account, curated by Best Jeanist’s team, popped up first. His posts were as structured as yours—action shots, hero promotions, and carefully orchestrated PR moves.

But unlike how you felt about your feed, his action shots were breathtaking.

One image, in particular, caught your attention: Bakugou holding a tiny kitten that had been stuck in a tree. His sharp features softened as he cradled the fluffy creature, his biceps bulging against his hero suit.

You snorted, amused by the juxtaposition. No matter how intimidating he looked, the sight of him with a kitten was almost too much.

Shaking your head, you scrolled through some of your classmates’ accounts. Their updates showed them at the beach, enjoying pizza nights, and huddled around a glowing campfire.

Seems like without Bakugou around to act as head chef, they had to order takeout instead.

You frowned, an unshakable pit forming in your stomach.

You drop your phone onto the bed and stare up at the ceiling, a quiet sigh escaping your lips. Maybe what you needed was a nice meal—something indulgent to shake off the restless energy.

The thought of heading to the nearest convenience store for another pint of ice cream crosses your mind, the idea warm and tempting. But no.

Not this time.

Instead, maybe you could make an effort. Doll yourself up a bit, put on some makeup, and head out into town. Who needs a big group when you’ve got yourself?

Determined to follow through, you sit up and scan the endless boxes of your new purchases. Finally, you land on a little buttercup-yellow tweed Chanel set, complete with a mini skirt and cropped blazer.

You slip it on, the fabric hugging your figure perfectly and highlighting your silhouette in all the right places.

Hell, for this price point, it better do all of the above!

You turn to your vanity, reaching for your makeup bag. You opt for a soft, casual look—subtle yet radiant, with just enough shimmer to catch the light. Twinkly in all the right places.

To complete the look, you sling a new ivory-colored purse over your shoulder. A cute yellow dandelion charm clipped to the side adds just the right touch of cuteness.

Standing in front of the mirror, you take a moment to admire your reflection. You look polished, confident, like someone ready to take on the evening—even if it’s a solo adventure.

Maybe you’d check out that new sushi spot closer to home!

Yeah, it’s fine that your classmates wouldn’t join you! They'd probably just make you more anxious anyways.

But as you’re heading downstairs and toward the door, you suddenly freeze. A realization dawns on you.

Hajime has the weekend off.

You groan out loud. How are you going to get there? You can’t drive!

Frustration bubbles up, and you slap your forehead. Were you really this helpless? The thought makes you wince, embarrassment creeping in at the edges of your thoughts.

"If I speak, you gonna jump and scream again?" A voice, an irritatingly familiar voice announces his presence.

The familiar gruff voice startles you, and admittedly, you do almost scream. Holding it back though, you whirl around to see Bakugou having just walked out of the elevator behind you.

He seems freshly showered, with his hair still a bit damp, out and pushed back from his handsome face. You could smell him from where you're standing.

Ugh, delicious as usual.

“You did kind of surprise me,” you admit, voice sheepish as your eyes dart away from him.

His eyes roam over your figure quickly, though you don't notice the action over your own mourning of the evening.

“You’re going out?”

The question leaves his mouth before he can stop it, and if he could, he’d smack himself upside the head. Why the hell did he even ask? It’s obvious you are. And more importantly—why is he even starting a conversation in the first place?

Up until literally yesterday, you were just another classmate. Background noise. But these back-to-back interactions are becoming unavoidable, and unfortunately, you’re slipping out of the backdrop and into his world.

You shake your head, lips pulling into a soft, resigned smile. “Well, I was going to, but… I just realized I don’t have any way of getting there.”

“Hah? Can’t take the train?”

Heat blooms across your face, creeping down your neck. “Oh, well… I’ve never taken public transportation.”

There’s a beat of silence—just long enough for you to see the exact moment Bakugou short-circuits.

“Is that some shitty joke?”

You thought your cheeks couldn’t possibly burn hotter, but—oh, look at that! They can!

“I- um, well, no. It’s not.” You swallow, fiddling with the strap of your ivory purse. “Hajime’s driven me everywhere since I was little.”

He blinks, slowly. More in disbelief than anything.

“Hajime?”

You nod. “Yeah, um… my personal driver.”

For a second, you think he might actually roll his eyes. On anyone else, the whole spoiled rich kid routine would piss him off. But with you, it’s different.

Maybe it’s the way you look so flustered, like you’re embarrassed to admit it. Or maybe it’s the way your voice dips, like you’re apologizing for just existing.

Either way, it leaves him feeling something weird—something dangerously close to wanting to help. Again.

Twice in one day. A world record, if he says so himself.

He exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his damp hair. “That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard.”

You wince, shoulders curling inward. “I know! It’s bad, okay? But it’s just how I was raised…”

How you were raised?

Bakugou’s brow lifts slightly. So what, you were raised to be a stay-at-home daughter? Spend money like it’s a full-time job?

He knows about your family. Everyone does.

A mother who inherited an entire hero firm from your grandparents—a dynasty so powerful its stocks and investments practically fuel Japan’s economy. And a father who died in the field before you were even born—a rising star in the hero world, gone far too soon.

Your mother, a young heiress to millions. Your father, a pro hero at the height of his career. Expecting their first child. A baby girl—you.

And then, just like that, it all came crashing down.

A mission gone wrong.

A hero lost.

Your father’s death sent shockwaves through the country, leaving Japan in mourning—not just for the man he was, but for the legend he never got the chance to become.

He doesn’t say anything right away—just stares at you with an unreadable expression that makes your stomach churn.

Then, without warning, he mutters, “Get your stuff. We’re going.”

Your head snaps up. “Wait, what?”

“You heard me.” He’s already pulling on his sneakers, his movements brisk and determined. “No way in hell am I letting you graduate from U.A. without knowing how to take a damn train. That’s pathetic.”

“Bakugou, you really don’t have to—”

“Second time today.” He cuts you off with a sharp look over his shoulder. “It’s already happening. Move it, princess.”

Your mouth opens, ready to argue—but the words die in your throat when you see the set of his jaw, the fire in his gaze. He’s not going to back down.

You’re not sure what’s more overwhelming—the idea of taking your first train ride…

Or the fact that Bakugou Katsuki is the one dragging you along for the ride.

You gulp, hurrying after him as he strides out of the dormitory, his natural pace effortlessly long and brisk. You almost trip trying to keep up, the heels of your boots clicking against the pavement.

God, why does he walk so fast?

“We’ve got a station down the block from the UA gates,” he says, barely glancing at you. “We’ll go to that one.”

You nod, stiff as a board. “Gotcha. So, um… where did you want to go?”

His blonde brow arches, the side of his lip curling like you just said something unbelievably stupid. “What? This isn’t about me. This is about teaching you how to get on a damn train.”

You wince, embarrassed. “Right. That makes sense.”

The two of you walk in relative silence, the crisp evening air settling over you like a thin veil.

The streets leading to the station aren’t crowded, but there are enough people out that you can feel the occasional passing glance—whether they recognize you as a hero-in-training or simply because you look like you don’t belong in a place as mundane as a train station, you’re not sure.

Your perfectly tailored blazer, Italian leather purse, and neatly manicured nails feel almost too polished for the scuffed pavement beneath your feet.

Bakugou, on the other hand, fits in seamlessly.

His hands are shoved in the pockets of his hoodie, his comfy sweatpants loose around his legs and tight at his waist.

He looks completely at ease, like this is just another part of his day—meanwhile, your heartbeat is rattling in your ears at the thought of navigating a train station for the first time.

After a few minutes, you reach the station entrance, the underground stairway yawning open before you. A few commuters shuffle past, swiping their cards at the turnstiles, moving like they’ve done this a million times.

You, however, stay frozen at the top of the stairs.

Bakugou doesn’t notice at first, too busy pulling out his own train pass. But when he looks up and sees you still standing there, brows drawn tight with hesitation, he sighs.

“Seriously?” He tilts his head, exasperation flickering in his red eyes. “It’s just a staircase, princess.”

“I know it’s just a staircase,” you huff, crossing your arms. “I just—” You hesitate, glancing down at the tiled steps leading into the station.

You’ve never been in one of these before, never had to navigate the organized chaos of public transport, never had to think about swiping a train card or picking a route.

A ridiculous thought hits you—you’re not sure what’s more embarrassing: the fact that you don’t know how to take a train… or the fact that Bakugou Katsuki is the one who has to teach you.

You bite your lip, it's silly and you know it. “What if I mess up?”

Bakugou stares at you for a beat, his expression unreadable. Then, without warning, he snorts.

“With that attitude, you’re definitely gonna mess up. Sour face you got going on”

Your jaw drops. “Excuse me?”

His smirk is almost smug. “But that’s the whole damn point. You mess up, you figure it out, and then you won’t be a clueless dumbass next time.”

You scowl. “Your motivational speeches suck.”

Bakugou rolls his eyes before nudging your shoulder—just a small push, barely enough to make you step forward, but it’s enough to shake you out of your own head.

“Come on,” he mutters, starting down the stairs. “I’ll show you how it’s done.”

You inhale sharply and, with no other choice, follow him down.

The air shifts as you descend—cooler, tinged with the metallic scent of rails and the distant hum of an approaching train. Your grip tightens around the strap of your purse, nerves bubbling in your chest.

Why is everything so loud down here?!

Bakugou moves ahead, seamlessly navigating through the turnstiles. He scans his card with an effortless flick of his wrist, stepping through without hesitation.

You, on the other hand, stop in front of the machine, frowning at it like it’s a puzzle you weren’t given the pieces to.

Bakugou turns, watching you expectantly.

“Well?” he drawls.

You glance at the screen, then back at your card. “Do I just… tap it?”

“No, you rub it on the damn thing and hope it opens.”

Your glare is sharp, but you say nothing, instead hesitantly pressing the card against the sensor. The gate beeps, unlocking with a mechanical click.

You blink. That’s it?

“Wow, you did it.” Bakugou’s tone is mockingly slow, like he’s congratulating a toddler for taking their first steps.

You don’t know how, when, or what possesses you with a sudden surge of confidence, but before you can stop yourself, your hand reaches out, shoving his shoulder.

His muscled frame barely budges under your touch, solid beneath the fabric of his hoodie.

“Shut up,” you mutter.

He snorts, a short chuckle slipping out as he steps toward the platform, the train’s arrival chime ringing through the station.

Then, as you approach the edge of the platform, a realization slams into you like a ton of bricks.

“…Wait.” You stop in your tracks, eyes widening. “How do I know which train to take?”

Bakugou exhales so deeply it sounds like his soul is actively trying to escape his body.

“God help me.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, his jaw tightening as if he’s physically restraining himself from saying something he’ll regret.

For the first time today, you swear he actually looks pained.

Oh lord. Oh good grief. If you were just about anybody else right now, Bakugou wouldn’t just be snapping—he’d be out of here so fast, you’d be left choking on smoke.

The fact that a pro-hero-in-training, someone who’s supposed to be saving lives, has never taken a damn train is the kind of thing that should be illegal.

So why is he still here?

Why hasn’t he turned on his heel, thrown up his hands, and left you to fend for yourself like any rational, self-respecting person would?

He blinks, his gaze lingering on your face, and for a brief moment—so fast you almost miss it—you swear there’s something unreadable flickering behind those sharp red eyes.

Maybe it’s the way your lashes frame your doe-like eyes, dark and long, casting delicate shadows across your cheeks. Curse you and your stupid, stupid eyes. Is this some kind of second quirk? A hypnosis ability?

Or maybe—just maybe—it’s the way you fidget without realizing it.

Your hands twist together, fingers tangling like they’re trying to hold onto something steady.

Absentmindedly, you twirl the diamond-encrusted eternity band on your index finger, turning it over and over in a nervous rhythm. It catches the dim station light, flashing every time you spin it.

Bakugou’s gaze follows the movement, and something about the unconscious gesture makes his scowl deepen.

“…Tch.” He clicks his tongue, shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket. “You really are helpless, huh?”

The words are gruff, edged with frustration, but he still doesn’t walk away.

Instead, he takes a step toward you, nodding toward the digital display overhead. The glowing letters flicker slightly, listing station names, times, and train lines in a way that makes your head spin.

“C’mon, dumbass. I’ll show you how to read the damn schedule before you get yourself lost in the middle of the city.”

Relief washes over you as you quickly follow his lead. “Ah, thank you!”

“Don’t thank me… just pay attention.”

And you do. You pay such good attention that by the time you finally grasp how the whole system works, you’re practically bouncing on your heels in excitement, a bright grin stretching across your face.

You stand on the platform, buzzing with a newfound confidence, while Bakugou—looking as perpetually unimpressed as ever—waits beside you with his hands stuffed into his hoodie pockets.

Then, the distant hum of the train grows louder, and soon enough, the sleek cars pull into the station with a sharp metallic whir.

The doors slide open, and you eagerly step forward, your heeled boots clicking against the platform as you move inside. Bakugou follows closely behind, scanning the interior in one quick glance.

The train is relatively full—enough that only one open seat remains near the doors. Without hesitation, Bakugou nudges you toward it.

“Sit,” he says gruffly, grabbing onto the nearest safety pole as the doors begin to close.

You shake your head, brushing him off. “I’m okay.���

He scoffs, tilting his chin toward your feet. “The train moves fast and isn’t super smooth. I’m sure you don’t wanna go through all that with those on.”

You glance down at your shoes—sleek, heeled boots, stylish but sturdy. Your lips curve into a small smile.

“I’ll have you know my hero costume boots are even higher than these.”

His brow arches slightly, the hint of sarcasm sparking in his eyes. “Yeah? I’m impressed, considering how fast you ran away from me on day one.”

Oh, hell.

Heat creeps up your neck at the reminder, your confidence faltering for a split second. But you recover quickly, squaring your shoulders with a dramatic huff.

“Wow, Bakugou Katsuki, impressed? By little ol’ me?” You place a hand over your heart, feigning exaggerated awe. “It’s an honor.”

He snorts, shaking his head, but there’s something unreadable in the way his gaze lingers on you for just a moment longer.

Then, the train lurches forward.

Despite all your earlier bravado, you do wobble slightly—just enough for Bakugou’s smirk to return in full force.

“…Told you to sit, dumbass.”

But you can’t.

Not because you’re too stubborn. Not because you’re still trying to prove a point.

But because—oh.

A singular, large hand is suddenly tight on your waist, steadying you with an effortless grip.

Oh my.

Who needs a safety rail when Pro Hero Dynamight is holding you like this?!

You internally scream, the realization hitting you all at once. The touch itself isn’t anything crazy—it’s barely even a thing, just a reflex, something automatic, instinctual. Nothing compared to the absolute torture of this morning’s, uh, straddling situation.

And yet, this feels just as bad—if not worse.

Why? Because Bakugou, in all his brash, loud, obnoxious glory, doesn’t even seem to realize he’s still holding onto you.

His grip is firm, warm even through the thick expensive fabric of your clothes, and worst of all? It lingers.

Still there.

Still present.

Still burning through your skin like a brand.

Oh, hell.

⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖

[mintmatcha]

In the future when they meet again, does sero ever find a way to make amends? Does he explain what he was going through?

He enters the room with your name on his lips.

You still push up your glasses the same way you always did - your palms on the bottom of the frames- and Sero kicks himself for not seeing it earlier. You've changed, of course. Ten years have passed, but your eyes are the same. The downward curve of your lips and the round of your nose: it's all unmistakably you. When you push away from your desk, it's with a confidence you never had back then, and it almost makes him smile.

"Who told you it was me?" you ask. "Eijiro?"

"No," he says. "I remembered all on my own."

It's only a half lie. Bakugo had called you Cram School and the memories had flooded back. The late night anime sessions, the whispered confessions-

The way he ghosted out of your life without warning.

"What do you want, Sero?" you sigh. "How did you even find me?"

Sero had called for a couple favors to track you down. Luckily, you worked with Uraraka's organization now, as a therapist. All those nights at cram school really did work out; you're a doctor, apparently.

"I just-" He breathes in to center himself, hands jammed in his pockets. "I wanted to say I'm sorry. For just--"

"Leaving me?"

"Yeah." The takes that blow in stride, despite the sting. "For disappearing on you."

"Okay." You lean back in your chair, legs crossed. "I don't forgive you."

"Good. Right. Yeah." That hurts worse. "You shouldn't."

You sit there, hands folded, in silence, watching from over your glasses in silence. He wonders when you got so serious, how you lost that sparkle in your eye. Then, he wonders if he even has the right to know.

"I was a fucked up kid, I was going through a lot." Sero steps forward. "My dad was really -"

You interject. "Sorry, I don't offer therapy for anyone over the age of eighteen. Try Dr. Yun down the hall."

Fuck. God, you're witty. You always manage to steal the wind from his sails with a single cut.

"I'm not trying to-" He huffs, trying to remember to advice his actual therapist gave him. "I just want things to be right between us."

"To make yourself feel better?"

"No, because it's the right thing to do when you hurt someone."

This time, you're the one left silent. Your expression goes softer, wider, like you're genuinely surprised.

"I don't need you to forgive me. I don't think you should forgive me," Sero says. "I just want you to be okay."

He takes a half step in, then a full. Then you don't kick him out, he goes directly to your desk.

"Here. I got this for you. Back in high school." He places a little box in front of you, its label faded and partially ripped from time. "I messed up before I had the chance to give it to you."

It takes you a moment to process what's in front of you. It's a little pink figure, maybe a little less than pristine, but still standing there, arms splayed. The sure look on your face starts to drift, falling down, down-

"She's your favorite, right?" Sero urges.

Your expression doesn't get better. No, you look seasick, your legs suddenly untucked and your arms gripping your stomach.

"She's-" he falters. "You like Flora, I thought, was I-?"

"Get out of my office." Your voice is softer now too, closer to what he remembers.

"I thought you'd like it."

"Get out."

He backs up a step, hoping you'll change your mind. When you don't, he retreats down the hall, unsure of whether he did something right or not.

[bouquetface]

PAC: Karmic + Destined Relationship

Not everyone will resonate - possibly only 1 person actually relates. Take this as entertainment!

For some, this “destined connection” has already occurred and for others this is a preview.

One.

In this connection, you will be in a stable and mature place. You will possess emotional intelligence. You attempt to understand all perspectives. You listen and try to navigate the struggles of the other person. You have a lot of compassion for them.

For some, this could be a lonely person you invite into your friend group. For others, this is a lover you initially feel is misunderstood. It may be a family relationship for some readers too.

Despite what you do for this person, you will be forced into the villain role in their story. You will be used as the scapegoat - you were everything wrong in their life. They will omit your kindness when re-telling the story of your relationship.

For some, this is specifically someone who will become (or has become) an ex-friend. They will move onto tell people about how you “bullied” them.

For others, this is a lover who will turn into an ex (or already is one). They will move onto tell the story about how you were a “mess”. They’ll reverse the roles - you drained them emotionally, they tried to help you but you kept bringing them down.

In each story, the person will believe their own bullshit and they’ll successfully convince the other people in their life.

This is the type of person if you give them a compliment out of pity, they eat it up and begin to think they’re better than you.

Nothing you do will be truly appreciated. They feel entitled to your kindness. Give this person a ride and they’ll feel you “owed” it to them.

And the second you get something in return even simple as them getting you a coffee, you’re the worst. You’re “using” them. They forget all the favours & kindness they’ve gotten from you and think something alone the lines of: “I do everything for everyone, no one appreciates me.”

THE OUTCOME for PILE ONE

This connection simply isn’t meant to last. Most likely you go no-contact. But before this happens, you may be brought down to their level. The bullshit will make you furious, you’ll act of our character - you may say or do something shitty in retaliation. You might flip someone off, tell them to fuck off, call ‘em a bitch. It’s not right but you’re human, everyone gets fed up, everyone has a breaking point.

Initially, they’ll be very angry with you. They’ll act impulsively - running to tell/text anyone who will listen about how shitty of a human you are.

Much later, this person will miss you. They will have a moment of clarity where they recognize their wrongdoings to get you to that point. They might have torn you down behind your back, might’ve nitpicked at you every chance they got, made you feel guilty for their actions.

Yet, to be able to live with themselves, those moments of clarity will be fleeting. They’re too fixated on having this victim narrative.

I was going to end the reading here but I do feel the need to share that this person will continue to be enabled after your connection. Other people will listen to them and confirm you’re so “toxic”. They may be told they need to stay away from you. “It’s not worth it.”People will say all sorts of bullshit to comfort this person.

I feel like this reading is meant to find the right people as a message from the universe. You likely won’t hear this from anyone else when all this does down. But remember: “You aren’t crazy, you aren’t a shitty person. I’m sorry no one had your back.”

Two.

My initial reaction to these cards is it’s so beautiful and positive, no way this is realistic 🤣 But I’m continuing anyways …

When this connection occurs, you’ll only be accepting genuine people. You won’t be accepting any form of toxicity.

People may secretly think your standards are too high. People may feel you’re closed off.

Some around you may have the attitude of “men are dogs” or “boys will be boys” and you just have to deal with it. But, you will not deal with it.

And you’ll have grown tired of how people excuse toxic behaviours in relationships as being passionate. It’ll all bore you. You’d rather focus on yourself.

The same goes for friendships with men or women. People who are inconsiderate and treat you like a second tier friend or an “option” will have you walking away.

You’ll be kinda strict about it. No second chances. No sticking by shitty people thinking it makes you loyal.

You may have Libra, Capricorn and/or Leo placements. You’ll be stepping into the matured traits of these signs. Independent, confident and loving/romantic.

For some this is destined connection is a friendship and for others this is a lover. I’ve broken it down into 2 sections.

Friend: It’ll be a woman. She’ll be like a “mom friend” to you. Her maturity may be a result of her being older. She is deeply supportive. She is a calming presence - teacher, librarian vibez.

This connection is destined because you will both be able to give one another the space and support needed to go through life’s obstacles. You may be getting ready for a new phase of life, it’s going to be tough. But the universe is bringing you and this friend together to be able to help one another. Some of you may already know this person. You’ll be getting closer in the coming years.

If you believe in past lives, she may be like a parent or sibling from a past life.

Lover: Someone who shows love through action and support. No mood swings or stupid mind games. Direct, stable and lots of love to offer. This person is in it for the long-run.

They are independent. They have the basics of adult life down - they may already live on their own. They aren’t looking for a “mom” in their partner. They simply want an equally loving and intelligent partner.

This person is slow-moving though. For some, this might be a long-term relationship that remains in the dating stage for years. You will support one another through big life changes and phases - as this is likely apart of your soul purpose to one another. But much later, it could later begin to feel like a dead-end. Reminds me of Austin Butler & Vanessa Hudgens in a way.

However, for some readers this could literally be your spouse. You may be destined for a genuinely loving, healthy and lasting marriage.

Three

You’ll be hopeful entering this connection. For some readers, this will be a long distance relationship. There’s a feeling of anticipation, “holding on” for hopes of a bright future.

At this point, there may se some desperation too. You may in a place where you’d ignore red flags because you just really want someone.

For this pile, this seems to clearly be about a romantic connection - not platonic and definitely not family or business.

This other person is definitely masculine in energy. He’s charismatic and driven. He may have some status - might be attractive, might have a good career, might have expensive things like his style/clothing or a vehicle. Basically, he has something that makes him feel like he’s “that guy”. This relationship will seem like it can offer you status in some way. Yet, this isn’t why you will desire the connection.

You’ll feel special having his attention. He may have a way with his words. Definitely a charismatic guy. He can be sentimental and sweet. He may shower you with small gifts and/or compliments.

Yet, there are many red flags. He is somewhat emotionally unavailable. He can be hot and cold. His confidence can steer toward arrogance.

You may have sidereal placements in Cancer - especially DK, Mars, Venus or 7th house ruler. This person may have Aquarius and/or Cancer placements too.

THE OUTCOME for PILE 3:

It’s going to be an intense and heartbreaking end. And truthfully, it’ll definitely end.

This is someone who won’t make it possible for you two to end on good terms. Despite all the passion, love and future-planning that is likely to occur, you’ll be left feeling emotionally hurt.

For some this is after a long relationship. For others this is a talking stage that will really get your hopes up.

[foreingersgod]

You (on my arm) . CH

pairing: caroline harvey x reader

synopsis: cute moments with kk throughout your relationship!

A/N: this came out kinda shitty, but i promise i’ll have better kk content coming haha

I wanna sit around and watch you do your hair

“you’re so pretty,” caroline sounded from the doorway of the bathroom “d’you know that?”

it was nearing 6:30 am on a friday morning. you hated getting up early with every fiber of your being, wanting to stay wrapped in caroline’s arms for as long as you could. but today, she had an away game, causing the both of you to pack an overnight bag and make an excruciatingly long drive.

you quite honestly looked a mess, dressed in your comfy clothes and your face decorated with the smallest amount of makeup. your hair was a disaster as you brushed it out, trying to style it in a somewhat presentable manner.

“shut up,” you laughed, looking at her through the mirror. she looked so good, also in her lazy day clothes as she leaned against the frame of the entry way, arms folded across her chest. she looked you up and down, smiling adoringly “i look like a disaster”

“not to me,” she came up behind you, moving stray hairs away from you neck so she could rest her chin on your shoulder. her hands planted themselves on your waist “you look gorgeous no matter what”

you turned your head, planting a kiss to her temple, humming against her skin. she sighed as she gave a gentle rub to your hip.

“love you” she mumbled, voice muffled by your sweatshirt.

“love you more” you confessed to her like you had a thousand times before. she was your person, your everything.

Talk it all into the ground

Have a ceremony there for something, don't know what it'd be

you were sprawled across the grassy meadow, long green blades standing tall, surrounding your body. your sundress rode up your thighs a bit, sneakers kicked off somewhere next to you. your arm was outstretched to your left as your hand fit snuggly into caroline’s. she laid next to you in the grass, smiling at you past the scattered flora. you looked radiant like this: skin glowing and sunkist, hair descending down your shoulders and onto the dampened earth beneath you, teeth sparkling as you let out the most infectious laugh.

she sat up, rolling onto her side and propping her head up on her hand as she stared down at you. her free hand maneuvered over to toy with the hem of your dress, fingers gliding across the soft material.

“i’m gonna marry you one day, i swear”

your cheeks burned from the sun, growing even hotter as she said that. there weren’t enough words to describe how caroline made you feel, so appreciated and wanted and loved. you had every intention of marrying her. although for now it would have to wait, you hated the idea of planning things and balancing school and a job and a full on wedding at the same time. but you both knew, without having to say it, that it didn’t matter if you married or not. the love was there all the same.

“one day,” you mirrored her movements, also rolling to your side “and i can’t wait for that day”

But it'd become nothing, it's nothing

And you'd smile at me

you had done it. through all the last minute study sessions, stressful midterms, and the nights spent crying at the kitchen counter as caroline rubbed your back sympathetically. you had finally graduated college. it was a beyond thrilling moment to slip on your gown and bobby pin the unflattering cap to the top of your head. just thinking of walking away with your degree made your stomach ache with excitement.

your high heel clad foot bounced against the floor as you stood in the long line. the room felt hot and crowded while you waited to make your way across that stage and get your degree. in the distance, the boom of the microphone could be heard echoing through the stadium as the names of the graduates were announced. with each passing moment, you were getting closer and closer to your turn. the hundreds of faces sat in the stadium made its way into the view as the line slowly inched forward. you strained your neck looking around the different sections, trying to find caroline’s familiar face.

unfortunately, your parents and the rest of your family couldn’t make it to this huge milestone in your life. you had gone no contact with the majority of them a while back once they ‘disowned’ you. when they found out you were dating caroline, a girl, they were furious and couldn’t stand having a daughter that followed such a lifestyle. your sister was the only one you stayed in contact with, but she was studying abroad and couldn’t make it back to the states in time to see you graduate. you were absolutely gutted about the whole situation.

but caroline was there for you through it all. sat with you while you sobbed the day before graduation because it was all settling in. she assured you that, even though it wasn’t the same as having your parents and sister there, she was going to be there front and center to watch you succeed. caroline was by far your biggest supporter, your rock through everything. you couldn’t believe you had gotten so lucky with someone so attentive and prideful towards you.

so as you finally reached the front, body shaking with excitement, your eyes bounced around all of the smiling faces. it was only when you handed the announcer your name card, taking your first steps onto the stage, you saw her. she was beaming ear to ear as she locked eyes with you. she had her phone out, ready to record her gorgeous girl accepting her degree. caroline had dressed up just for you, sporting a navy blue dress shirt and slacks to match the colors of your university. she watched as you accepted all the hand shakes, posing for pictures with the dean, and evidently walking off that stage with that cherished piece of paper.

you walked off the stage and started to make your way back to your seat to finish out the rest of the grad ceremony. you looked over to her, finally able to get a clear look at her face. you gave her an excited wave, showing off your degree to her. she clapped for you and blew you a kiss, still smiling as brightly as before.

‘i love you’ she mouthed ‘i’m so proud’

and you smiled, mouthing back to her with tears in your eyes ‘thank you’

I wanna be, I wanna buy you pretty little things

And never ever lie to you

“what’s all this?” you asked, stepping through the door into your shared apartment with caroline.

you had gotten off of work quite upset, driving home with irritation coursing through your veins. you got called in for a so called ‘emergency’ even though you had requested the day off for yours and caroline’s anniversary. in reality, it wasn’t an emergency, rather your boss just needed someone to run errands for him. your girlfriend was so sweet and had planned out the entire day to celebrate, you were in a bad mood the whole day wishing you could just got back home.

but when you walked through that door at around 7pm, the scent of pine wafting around the kitchen, your heart melted. a bouquet of your favorite flowers sat upon the marble countertop, a neatly sealed letter leaned against the vase. there was a small box that also sat next to it with a baby pink ribbon tied around it. caroline stood from where she was previously sitting on the kitchen stool, coming over to greet you.

“just wanted to do something since you had to work today, s’all” she shrugged, pulling you into her by your waist as you set your stuff down on table “happy anniversary, baby”

you felt like you could cry, tears welling up at your lash line. you had felt horrible for spoiling the day by going into work, but caroline was so sweet and understanding and always made sure you felt seen.

“caroline, you didn’t have to do this!” you gestured to the flowers and box, leaning in to smell the flowers “i spoiled our anniversary, i don’t deserve this”

“don’t be ridiculous, you didn’t spoil anything” she kissed your cheek, you could feel her lips curl against your skin “and of course you deserve it, you deserve the world. now open your gift!”

the small ribbon glimmered underneath your dim kitchen lights as you ran your fingers over it. you looked at her with a skeptical face, smirking slightly when she laughed at your expressed. she urged you on, promising that you would like the small little present. you untied the ribbon excitedly and lifted the lid carefully.

sat on a small bed of tissue paper, was the most beautiful charm bracelet you had ever seen. you instantly pulled it out, putting it up to your face to see it closer. it was only when you had gotten a closer look that you had realized what it was.

when you met caroline, you noticed she had always worn a small little bracelet on her left wrist. she told you about a month into your relationship that it was something she’s had since she was a kid, a way to keep important memories close to her. you adored the thing, always asking about the charms that she added and what her favorite ones were.

the bracelet she had gotten you was a near exact replica of hers. it shared a few of the charms that hers held, ones that you said were your favorite. but it also had several new ones. many came from the vacations you and caroline took together, others she bought because they reminded her of you, and one that had both of your initials in a heart. it was by far the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever gotten for you.

“caroline,” you exhaled, completely blown away “baby…i don’t know what to say”

she laughed, taking the bracelet from you and grabbing your hand. she delicately wrapped it around your wrist and secured the clasp. she pulled you in for a passionate kiss, wiping away the tears you seemingly couldn’t stop shedding.

“i hope you like it,” she said “i just know how much you like looking at mine and so i thought-i don’t know maybe it’s silly, but i thought you might like one of your own so we can match”

“of course i like it” you shook your head, looking back at your wrist to admire the charms “this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me…thank you so much, babe”

you spent the rest of that night on the couch, curled up into her side with a glass of wine as caroline explained each and every detail of the charms she picked out. she watched as you giggled at every fond memory she took inspiration from, noticing how you ran your fingers across the intricate designs of the little pieces, thinking about how much she loved you.

Watch you get dressed

And compliment your taste

she laid on your side of the bed, extended horizontally so that her stomach stretched along the width of the bed. her elbows were propped up to support her head as she watched your gorgeous figure from across the room. at first she was scrolling mindlessly on her phone to pass the time until you were ready to leave for your guys’ date, but now she was beyond distracted.

you emerged from the bathroom, hair done up and makeup dewy, walking over to your walk-in closet. you wore nothing except your nude bra and underwear, rushing around frantically trying to pick out an outfit. caroline was practically ogling at you, drooling at the sight.

“is this cute?” she had snapped from her trance when you came out, holding up a yellow dress to your body “i don’t know i can’t decide”

her eyes flickered back forth between your stressed expression and the frilly, lacey dress that had previously been tucked in some corner of the closet. she had seen you wear it a few times, remembering how much she loved the neckline and the way it flowed gracefully down your thighs. in truth, she loved everything you owned no matter what it was. she thought you looked good in everything.

she grinned at you, wanting to scream from how beautiful you looked “yea honey, that looks perfect”

“are you sure?” you asked again. she knew you liked things to be perfect, wanting to look your best for outings and such. but caroline always thought you looked your best no matter what “is it too fancy or anything? i don’t want to look like an overdressed loser or something-”

“hey,” she interrupted, making you quiet down and take a deep breath “you’re gonna look amazing, ok? you could be wearing a paper bag over your head and you’d still turn heads”

“you’re too sweet to me” you said rushing over to press a small kiss to her forehead before scurrying back into the closet to change. caroline observed you through the small crack you left in the closet door. not in a lurking way, she just wanted to appreciate her girl.

she bit her lip as she watched how you shimmied the dress over your hips, how you stuck your tongue out as you tried to zip up the back, and how you ruffled up your hair in the mirror probably a dozen times before deciding you were ready. then you waltzed out, just as beautiful as you were before, grabbing your bag and ushering her off the bed. you kissed the back of her hand as you interlocked fingers, making your way out the door.

man, she had really hit the jackpot with you.

…I'd be better armed

If you agreed to take it <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.