#Slumbering Sun The Ever-Living Fire

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

New Video: Slumbering Sun Share Horror Movie-Influenced Visual for "Dream Snake"

New Video: Slumbering Sun Share Horror Movie-Influenced Visual for "Dream Snake" @usthemgroup

Austin-based doom metal outfit Slumbering Sun — Monte Luna’s James Clarke (vocals), Destroyer of Light’s Keegan Kjeldsen (guitar), Temptress‘ Kelsey Wilson (guitar), Monte Luna‘s and Scorpion Child‘s Garth Condit (bass) and Destroyer of Light’s Penny Turner (drums) — is an All-Star band featuring acclaimed members of Texas’ underground metal scene.  After the breakup of their previous band,…

[mossgh0st]

As If It’s Heaven’s Gate (Levi Ackerman x Reader)

Summary | Levi is caught in a dark place following the battle of heaven and earth. Believing he’s undeserving of life’s sweetness, he deprives himself until you show up on his doorstep. Inspired by and based on Too Sweet by Hozier.

Content | Angst, Fluff. Sort of slow burn? No use of y/n. Levi is a grump, reader is shorter than him. Brief mentions of off-screen sex. Italics are song lyrics that each section is inspired by.

Pairings | Levi/Reader. Mentions of Jean/Pieck.

Notes | As soon as I heard Too Sweet, I knew I needed to write about Levi. Header is from ‘kii on Pinterest. Hope you enjoy!

——————————————————————————

It can’t be said I’m an early bird, it’s 10 o’clock before I say a word. Baby, I can never tell, how do you sleep so well?

After the war, Levi becomes a creature of the night. His meticulous bedtime routine and eves of deep, restful slumber have become wrought with nightmares, teeming with the faces of everyone he’s ever loved having succumbed to their bitter ends. He’s forgone the tea, a relic of a previous era; he now prefers an amber liquid that stings on the way down. A balm that numbs, heavy bottomed glass filled only a quarter of the way. When he ventures beyond the confines of his home, he asks for the tippy top of the top shelf - Levi always takes his whiskey neat.

You know you don’t gotta pretend. Baby, now and then, don’t you just wanna wake up, dark as a lake, smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze?

Some days, he’s lucky if he retires before the sunrise peeks over the hills and pulls itself up to the high point of the sky. Letters go unanswered, bookshelves less sparse as he fills the majority of his time with thick, leather-bound tomes. The newspaper has becomes the perfect kindling, headlines boasting peace negotiations melt and turn runny with the heat of the blaze. When Levi wakes each hazy afternoon, it’s with the lingering scent of bonfire strung about the atmosphere. His once grey eyes have turned deep, a color so sharpened it resembles the water on a lake just before the claps of thunder rumble and bring down swells of rain.

But while in this world, I think I’ll take my whiskey neat. My coffee black and my bed at three.

He knows he won’t live forever. He’s not at all interested. At this point, he’s pleading for the same sweet release from the world he afforded Erwin. Levi has spent so much time dwelling in the night, the darkness is threatening to become him. Then, you show up, one damp afternoon. Modest sundress, two small bags, a green ribbon tying back your hair. The glow you emanate is too much for him. He wants to be angry, filled with a rage so intense it convinces you to leave running in the midst of the spring storm, ribbon flying behind you. The pit in his stomach solidifies when he can’t bring himself to be irate, softened by the cold flush of your cheeks and the sheepishness of your smile as you stand, delicate in his doorway.

You’re too sweet for me, you’re too sweet for me.

At first, your presence does nothing to alter his routine. You rise with the sun, the first blinks of morning are spent brewing a sweet coffee in his kitchen, silent save the chattering of the birds. The dregs of his previous evening’s fire catching in the wind and mingling with the scent of bitter coffee grounds. Levi rises long after the sun has hit it’s peak, emerging in loose slacks and a half undone shirt, the sleeves rolled. You cross paths only briefly, while he pours his glass of amber whiskey and you prepare your cup of evening tea. A silent understanding has occurred - you can stay, if you don’t intervene. So you read in the overgrown garden, take your coffee with milk and two sugars, visit the bookstore, the seamstress down the block from the town’s main square, and worry about him only when you are tipping over the ledge into sleep.

But who wants to live forever, babe? You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate.

The first change is subtle: tea leaves are disappearing faster than you’re brewing them; you know he’s dipping into the store after you retire each evening. Then, when the usual night terrors creep up again, plaguing your mind and leaving your lungs in a vice grip, the second change occurs. Levi waking and comforting you after a string of particularly violent dreams, a different sort of understanding passes when he murmurs, “I still see them, too.” You find him in your bed then, most mornings. Your routines still separate, bodies occupying different halves of the day for weeks. Coffee, bookstore, seamstress, reading, garden. It continues on, life in your solitary bubbles, except the brief overlapping in the early morning when your breaths mingle in the same space between your sleeping forms.

I wish that I could go along, babe, don't get me wrong.

The paradigm shifts once more when he begins to rouse the same time as you. A brief wave of shame washes over you as you realize he’s already awake, you cannot observe his closed eyes and smoothed forehead, the lines of his face set in peace, the soft parting of his lips, or the slow rise of his chest beneath the thin blankets. That morning, you show him how to make the coffee, and he grumbles after burning the first pot, squinting in the bright light. He notices you smiling out of the corner of his eye and something rattles around in his chest. You add three sugars to your cup. He accompanies you to both the bookstore and the seamstress, his silent presence a new comfort. Levi wants to ask why you chose him, chose his home, when there are happier and more accommodating friends, current or former members of the 104th. There’s no doubt in his mind that you’d be better off with someone like Mikasa, in her quiet cottage by the sea. Even Jean and Pieck, or hell, Reiner and his family.

You're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain.

Within a few months, Levi’s world has changed. It’s brighter, fuzzy around the edges. There’s a few sundresses in the closet of his room, a growing stack of books on his dresser. A knit shawl is draped over the chair in the living room; and the guest bed hasn’t been used in several weeks. He lets her brew the coffee in the morning, his palate now well suited for the taste, and takes chrysanthemum tea in the evenings. The garden has a bench now, front row to the beds of geranium, lavender, and snapdragon. When you smile at him through the kitchen window, an understanding dawns on him, an awakening blooms inside of him. He’s seen this look before, many times; over a shared water jug during an expedition, sleepy and exhausted over a fire surrounded by their comrades, during meetings with military leadership, after the battle of heaven and earth, and on the day you were assigned to his squad. You would never go to Mikasa’s, or to Jean and Pieck, even Reiner, or anyone else. He would never let you.

Pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape.

The first touch of morning is chill, a breeze dancing its way through the open window, sheet gathered at his waist as Levi rouses from sleep. He hears your hums from the kitchen and swings his feet over the bed. He’s drawn to you like bees are to flowers, cloying aroma and sunlight and all things good. Forgoing the tie of his robe, he begins purposeful strides down the hall. Then, you’re there, back turned and hair down. The hem of your pale nightgown sways as you wait for the pour of coffee, glowing in the sunrise, hands over your upper arms to stave off the late summer air. You’re lost in a daydream. Levi comes to stand behind you, listening to the melody you hum quietly. The deprecating, nagging voice he contends with daily in his mind is quieted - it’s just you now; always you.

If you could sit in a barrel, maybe I’d wait.

It’s quiet when he slides an arm around your waist, body warm and flushed. It’s quiet when you turn in his hold, meeting his grey gaze with lingering surprise and pink cheeks. It’s quiet as he pulls you in closer still, hands coming up to rest on his chest. Quiet, as Levi brushes his forehead against yours, eyes closed, fingers flexing in their hold of you. Completely silent, as he tilts your chin up, up, up, and brushes his lips with yours. The taste of you nothing like he had ever dreamed, and oh, had he dreamed. When you push up onto your toes to deepen the pressure, sigh into his mouth, his black bitter heart nearly bursts through his chest.

Until that day…

And when he takes you shortly after, coffee long forgotten, limbs so tangled it’s near impossible to discern where you end and Levi begins, lips parted and dewy with sweat and each other; he can only think of the sweetness this life has afforded him in you, how the bitterness of his past has made way for this belonging.. well. There’s truly no such thing as too sweet, is there?

[nicoline1998enilocin]

could you possibly write this fluffy prompt: sharing their food with the other with tony stark, please?? maybe it's a secret relationship but the avengers catch them sharing the same food bowl and feeding each other during breakfast in the communal kitchen like it's the most normal thing ever lol

Secrets revealed

PAIRING || Boyfriend!Tony Stark x Girlfriend!Fem!Reader

WORDCOUNT || 1K

SUMMARY || You and Tony usually keep your relationship private, but one day you decide to have breakfast together in the communal kitchen while the rest of the Avengers are on a mission. Unexpectedly, the team returns early and discovers your secret. Surprisingly, they are all happy for both of you.

RATING || Teen (T)

TAGS || Everyone lives AU. Established relationship. Secret relationship. Avenger!Reader.

A/N || This drabble is part of Nicoline's Summer of Drabbles. I want to thank @ccbsrmsf1 for supporting me and helping me throughout the writing process of this drabble, as it would not have been this perfect without it! I love you, bestie! 🤍

Photo: Source || All other graphics are made by @nicoline1998enilocin

Main Masterlist || Tony Stark || Summer of Drabbles

Your morning starts perfectly when you wake up in your boyfriend's penthouse, and the sun's golden rays cast an ethereal glow over his entire body as he snores softly next to you. For a few moments, you drink in his features, how his chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm, and how peaceful he looks when he sleeps. You gently caress his cheek before letting your finger glide through his dark brown locks, which makes him stir a bit as he's being pulled out of his slumber.

"Mornin', Mio Sole," he whispers in his deep, sleep-filled voice as his arms wrap around you to pull you against his chest. His musky scent envelops you as your face nuzzles into his neck, a feeling of contentment spreading through your body as you hook your leg over his, pulling him closer. All the other Avengers are gone for a mission while you and Tony returned from one a few days ago, giving the two of you all the privacy you need to be yourselves for a moment without hiding your relationship.

Tony asked you to be his girlfriend a few months ago, and you two have decided to keep it a secret for the time being as you enjoy living in your little bubble together. During moments like this, when your limbs are intertwined, and you're closer than ever before, you don't have to put on an act of being nothing more than friends. Your love and affection can be shown openly towards one another, and you soak up every second of these moments, as they're rare.

"We should go and get some breakfast, Tony; my belly is rumbling like crazy," you whisper, and as you do, your belly makes a loud, rumbling sound to solidify your words. He chuckles before lifting your face to his and kissing your lips softly, making you melt in his arms as your heart beats faster.

"Sounds like a good plan," he whispers against your lips, giving a few more kisses before finally releasing you from his hold. You grab one of Tony's hoodies and put it on with a pair of fuzzy socks before you walk out the door, following your boyfriend towards the communal kitchen. Once you're there, Tony instructs you to get comfortable at the kitchen island after showering you with even more kisses, and you do exactly that.

Your legs swing back and forth as you observe the ease with which Tony seems to float through the kitchen while whipping up a simple but delicious breakfast: mini chocolate chip pancakes. Every once in a while, he looks back at you and gives a wink, which sets your insides and cheeks on fire in the best way possible. Over the past few months, Tony has shown you what true love looks like, and every day, you're falling deeper in love with him.

In less than twenty minutes, Tony has produced an entire bowl filled with warm mini pancakes, and you're happy to dive in—but only after he grabs a fork and feeds you the first piece. With a smile, you happily accept it, and it melts on your tongue as a soft moan leaves your lips at the taste, making Tony smile widely.

"And? How is it?" he asks, the curiosity visible in his eyes as he looks at you. You hold up your thumb as you chew your bite, and then you grab the fork from his hands, also wanting to give him a bite. Tony looks at you intently as you stab two of the pancakes and bring them to his mouth, allowing you to feed him with a broad smile, his heart fluttering in excitement.

Tony hums softly at the taste, smiling as he nods while maintaining eye contact. After this, you two keep going back and forth between feeding each other, sharing kisses, and having light conversations. Once the pancakes are about halfway gone, Tony steers the conversation in a different direction between bites.

"Have I told you how amazing you are, Mio Sole? I'm so lucky to have fallen in love with someone as sweet, amazing, and brave as you," he tells you, the Italian nickname making you smile so wide that the corners of your mouth start to hurt a little, but you don't mind when he's giving you compliments like this.

"Hmm, maybe once or twice, but I don't mind you repeating it, Amore Mio," you answer, making him smile warmly. He brings one more pancake to your mouth, and you open up dutifully, but instead of feeding you the bite, he captures your lips in a surprise kiss that has you gasping into his mouth, and he knows his mission was successful.

Just as Tony moves to deepen the kiss - his free hand cupping your cheek as he turns his head a little - you both hear a familiar voice entering the kitchen, making both of you pull apart with a shocked expression before looking at the source. Tony's cheeks are dark red as he realizes you two got caught sharing an incredibly intimate moment, but because he's in front of you, you can hide behind his broad back as the embarrassment settles in.

"What- how-" is all Tony can say, trying to piece together why Natasha and the other Avengers are here and not on the mission they were supposed to be on for another few days. After Natasha's short explanation about the mission ending early, you finally dared to emerge from your boyfriend's back.

"Ah, so our suspicions were correct!" Natasha says as she spots you, and now it's your turn to get a flushed look on your cheeks, but you nod nevertheless.

"We're all very happy for you both, Detka. There’s no man I trust more to care for you than Tony - you two are made for one another." Natasha's words keep ringing through your head as Tony turns around before whispering the sweetest confession of love.

"I love you, Mio Sole, with all my heart."

[theblueflower05]

Tizin(Entangled)| Part Three

A/N: Ah, and we’ve made it here! The first two chapters were like the worst kind of edging- I always just wanted them to be in love lol

Word Count: 11k(of almost pure smut. I’m sorry)

Warnings: Cursing. Talks of past trauma. Oral sex(female and male receiving), Penetrative Sex. Loss of virginity. Submissive Male. Femdom. Neteyam’s a munch.

Summary: In which Neteyam goes into heat, and makes it clear that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. Omega Neteyam x Alpha Female Reader

<Part Two(previous)

>Part Four(next)

Series Masterlist

It’s never over,

My kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder.

It’s never over,

All my blood for the sweetness of her laughter

- Lover, You should come over. Jeff Buckley

Last Time:

“Ma Y/N” Neteyam calls to you clear and true. He’s chosen these words carefully, they don’t stick in his throat “I am yours if you’ll still have me”

Only then do you notice that the black Pearl necklace that you had strung together for him hangs around his throat.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

A clear symbol of his acceptance of your courtship.

The crowd, chalked full of all members of the village-gathered close for the Iknimaya ceremony-, had gone still. Or maybe that was just him, his brain working too fast, not able to compute everyones movements as they fought to catch up with him.

Neteyam’s never been that scared before. His heart pounded in his ears like waves battering shore, his stomach queasy- a storm brewing inside of him. Hurricane levels of emotion stirring in his taut belly. He’d faced open battle, sprays of bullets and fire in the skies, with less fear in his chest.

Many things had happened at once.

Ronal’s outraged hiss.

Tonowari’s sway, as though he had taken a physical blow.

Gasp’s. Laughter. Shrill calls of protest. Neteyam can barely hear it over the rushing of his own blood in his ears.

He doesn't look, doesn't pay attention to any reaction but yours. Nothing matters but you, you in the sea of blue.

You're stunned, your pretty face slack with surprise. Ocean eyes wide and plush lips agape. He wishes he had been able to tell you, that night in the forest. That his feelings didnt come as such a surprise.

So Neteyam wait’s with bated breath- his heart in his throat but somehow also in his hands as he offers it to you- the entirety of Awa’atlu as his witness.

You could say no. You could reject him in front of everyone. Make him the village fool who had dared to declare his love for the next Olo’eykte.

The bold outsider.

Silly Omega.

Instead, a smile tugs at your lips and Neteyam lays his bleeding heart at your feet.

When he awakes, its to glittering rays of sunlight streaming through the cracks in the blinds. For a moment, Neteyam feels the disorenation that he’d been accustomed to. The familiar confusion as he drifts back into the world of the living, the dream state left behind.

He still expects to come to in his family's keklu, the one he’d grown up in. The one he’d left behind deep in the Forest with the rest of his childhood.

He wonders if this odd vertigo will ever leave him. If he’ll ever rouse from slumber not missing the earthy smell of moss and leaves and greenery.

The shock of waking, especially for the first couple of months, used to be cruel. It was jarring, the home sickness. All consuming and miserable. He’d hid it well, as he does all things. But he wanted nothing more than to fly home on ikran back as fast as the wind would take him.

He wakes to golden rays of light- in a mauri that’s not his own.

And that familiar pang of homesickness doesn't threaten to choke him.

As he blinks sleep from his amber eyes, he takes in his surroundings. Acquainted to him now. Its decorated finely- clay pots with overflowing herbs. Finely beaded Sun catchers and windchimes that sway in the breeze. A sunken fire pit in the center that crackles. Woven rugs. Hung tapestries. A warm bed mat, piled high with quilts.

Home is a subjective word, Neteyams learned. To most it’s a place, a house. Four walls and a roof. To his father it’s his family; Neteyam himself. His siblings. His mother. To the Metkayina it’s the sea.

Neteyam has found his home-

It’s here. In your Mauri. In your arms.

You’re still peacefully asleep beside him. Your eyelashes kissing your high cheekbones. Your wild mane is everywhere. Spread out on the cushion you lay your head upon. On your face. On his. Strands of it tickle his nose.

You’re beautiful, always. But like this is something else. Soft and sleep warm and so close that he can trace the pattern of your Tahni.

Neteyam thanks the Great Mother for his affinity for early mornings- his internal clock had always been wound tight. An early bird, Jake had deemed him.

You’d sleep until deep in the afternoon if it was allowed.

Most days he’s awake before you, and he loves it. He loves these moments where he gets to watch you. Uninterrupted by responsibility or by your teasing- “What are you looking at me for, huh, Forest Boy?”

As if you don't know. As if he could pull his eyes away.

Greedily he feasts on the sight. You’re tucked in close, on your side, him on his back. Your arms and legs thrown around him, the delicious weight and feel of you pressing down on him. Keeping him cozy far better than any blanket ever could.

He takes his fill of this feeling. Of how content he is with you wrapped around him. Your cheek smushed to his shoulder. Your breath puffing on the side of his jaw.

It’s all so right.

It's bone deep.

He’d realized it the first night he’d spent with you. He belonged here, amongst your things.

Like your eclectic knick knacks and your plants and your well loved soup pot. He was yours. He thinks maybe he has been since the moment he touched down in Awa’atlu. Since the very first time he met your curious gaze. And it used to fucking terrify him. Because all he’s ever wanted was his anonymity and you’d taken all of him without even asking first.

That fear had turned to annoyance- and that annoyance into fondness because you. You are relentless and contagious and Tonowari should’ve known that Neteyam had no chance when the Olo’eyktan had assigned you as Neteyam’s karyu. Fondness had morphed into something else- something that lit his belly on fire and made his blood hot. It was no longer a crush, it was an obsession.

He’s obsessed with you.

He’s drowning in his feelings for you. In his need to be closer to you.

He’d crawl under your skin if he could. He’d crack open his ribs and place you in the center, right next to his heart. It was yours anyway. He’d given it to you. Didnt you want to feel it, bloody and beating in your hands?

No. No, that still wouldn't be close enough.

Neteyam thinks that maybe he’s going crazy.

And you just lay there. In his arms. Resting soundly.

He stews in it, in his head, while the sun climbs higher in the sky. You’ll need to wake soon. Your duties will call you out of bed, steal you from his embrace.

He holds on even tighter at the thought, his nose snuffling into the crown of your head. You smell so good. Bright like fruit and deep like petrichor. Its intoxicating, he breathes it in greedily. Your scent coats his nasal passages, drips in his throat. He can’t help it, he’s nuzzling at you, pawing at you.

In your sleep you turn from him. Desperate to stay in the land of dreams for just that much longer. You go from your side your your back, your legs still somehow tangled with his.

You’re perfectly on display for him now- hair fanning behind you like a halo. Your eyes are still closed and your lips are pursed in the cute way that only happens when you’re sleeping or pouting- he watches your heartbeat in your throat. Your pulse fluttering so near your scent gland. Your delicate clavicle.

You don't sleep with clothes on. There's no reason to, they’ll just tangle in the night. He’d embraced that habit of yours when he spends the night- it’s nice to wake up without his tweng twisted around his legs.

Your body is naked, all of that seemingly endless supple turquoise skin and the swirls of black ink that make up your tribal tattoos.

The only thing marring your bare skin is the courting that he’d made for you. Made of fresh water pearls iridescent shells and stones he’d brought from the forest- you hadn’t taken it off since he’d presented it to you

He can't look away from the curve of your tits and the nipples that top them. Soft from the warmth of your combined body heat. His teeth ache, he wants to chew on them.

Your smooth belly, your wide hips. The mound of your pussy.

Neteyam’s nostrils flare and saliva pools in his mouth.

It’s his greatest fixation, he thinks as he reaches out, his deft fingertips ghosting lightly over your skin. He really has no control over it- no matter how much he tries. Every day in your presence, every night in your bed, it just gets worse.

He grazes the stripes that adorn your arm, the underside of your breast, your naval. He’s memorized your patterns now. He’d know them in a sea of Na’vi. Would be able to point you out without needing to see your face.

Home is this moment, your scent mixing with his own. Your bed has become his nest. The quilts and cushions smell like blossoming romance. The beginning of something long and concrete.

Home is the way you feel under the pads of his fingers. The way you sigh in your sleep- your nose scrunching as you turn your head deeper into your pillow.

Home is between your thighs. Always hot and moist. Ever welcoming to him. An embrace from his dearest friend.

How had he gone all of those years without this?

Neteyam had always been an Omega with a healthy appetite. Even though he’d never acted on it, he’d wanted. Of course he had. He’d gone through his heats crying for a knot, and could be caught on multiple occasions staring at the female Alpha’s of the Omiticaya with longing gazes.

Now that he knows the heat and the comfort of your pussy, he’s sure he couldn't give it up even if he tried. It's silky to the touch, the folds unfurling with his feather light caress.

He wants to taste but knows that his tongue will surely wake you. So instead he just feels, lightly. Watches his own hand play between your thighs. It’s something you’re more than happy to let him do while you’re awake.

You’d be okay with it this way, wouldn't you? If he explored while you're sleeping…he really should've asked but he just can't wait. He’ll apologize later if he needs to.

A vision of you putting him on his knees and demanding he kiss at your feet in apology makes him bite his bottom lip hard to stifle a groan.

You get wet for him so easily and he feels so lucky.

Your pussy slicks up at his touch even in your sleep. It’s heady, it makes his cluttered head feel even heavier. It makes him feel like you’re his.

He doesn't mean to. Really he doesn't.

But his head goes from resting on the cushion next to yours. To resting in your neck, nose against your scent gland. And the moment he's getting your scent potent and right from the source any control he might have had is just gone. He’s under your spell, he’s drunk the potion that is your pheromones.

He’s circling your sticky clit a bit too roughly. His body curled around yours, his hips grinding into your side. His lips moving against your gland.

When you wake its with a breathy moan. Your lashes fluttering and your plush lips parted. Your fingers go tight around his wrist, the one that's between your legs.

“Teyam?” Your voice is groggy and sleep laden around his name. It’s the sexiest thing he’s ever heard.

“Good morning, narlor(beautiful)” your tendency for pet names might be rubbing off on him a little bit. Plus, is it not true? Are you not the most beautiful woman he’s ever met? The title belongs to you.

He kisses on your scent gland. Then behind your ear.

“It is a good morning indeed” you purr, spreading your legs even further, pressing his hand even deeper into your cunt with your grip on his wrist “You’re so bad, Tey”

“Never that” he whispers, his sharp canine catching on your jaw. “Aren't I always good for you? Waking you up in the only way I know how. You’re a real pain in the morning, you know”

You giggle and its so sweet it makes his stomach hurt.

“Ah, so it's my fault that you can't keep your hands to yourself?” you’re very cheeky, even in those first moments awake.

Neteyam pecks the corner of your lips, before breathing his words into your grinning mouth “It’s all your fucking fault”

When he kisses you it's all tongue.

He wants to taste you, he licks into your mouth. Behind your teeth as his fingers plunge deep inside of you. You gasp and suck him inside, your hands coming up to fist his braids as his hips still grind. His dick rubbing against your bare hip, unsheathed- throbbing and wet and hard as stone.

It’s a needy thing. All too quick as he chases both of your releases. You ride his fingers until you’re squealing, never breaking the messy kiss and he comes with a grunt. Shooting off against your skin.

If he rubs the layer of his cum in before he lets you up to ready for the day, that’s his own prerogative. Scent marking has become a thing for him as of late. He doesn't pay it too much mind.

Neteyam just watches you hurry around your mauri.

You get dress, the plum tweng and twinkling shell top look perfect on you. You brush your waist length hair until it falls in uniform waves around your shoulders. It looks like an oil spill, all dark and shiny.

“Watcha staring at, sayrip(handsome)? Haven't you had enough for now?” You tease with a feline smile and knowing eyes as you catch him ogling you. He just rolls his own and gives you a half hearted hiss- before going and busying himself with making breakfast.

It’s domestic. It’s becoming his routine- his new norm.

Ever since that day on the beach where he had announced your relationship and his intentions to everyone, he spends most nights here.

They’ve begun to bleed into one and other. Has it already been over a month, just shy of two? How?

Time passes so fast when he’s with you. He loses track of it as he loses himself to you.

When you’re both dressed for the day, and eating a hot mix of grains and fruit, you reach over to trace along his side.

Neteyam had completed his rite, he was a fledged member of the tribe now. A hunter and known warrior. He’d gotten the markings to prove it. They were painful and slow healing on his tender skin but he’d taken it(with a flurry of curses during the hours of poke and stick)

Now there's sprawling black from his left hip to just under his armpit. A helluva place for his first marking. His father and Tonowari had both winced when he announced his desired placing, pointing at his ribs naively.

It’s all but healed, but still you fret over it. You’ve see infected tattoos before and they are not a pretty sight “I will go to my mother today, and ask her for more salve”

“No” Neteyam shakes his head at once “That’s not necessary, please don't. It feels fine”

Ronal had made her distaste for him known.

She had been the most outraged at his claim on you. Her eldest daughter. The next leader of the Metkayina. When you’d made it clear that you accepted Neteyam, you wanted him and returned his affections it had ended in a screaming match.

Both of you stubborn Alpha’s. Neither of you willing back down.

The pregnant Tsahik honestly scares him a little and he’s trying his best to win her respect, or at the very least, her blessing to be with you.

“You have spent years rejecting any and all suitors we have suggested and yet this boy offers himself to you and you accept? Without a second thought? He hasn't even properly courted you! It’s a disgrace!” Ronal had shouted and Neteyam felt like dirt because she didn't speak lies.

He should've been doing more, earlier. Instead of denying his feelings and bad mouthing you to his family.

He’d stood outside of your family’s large Mauri. Waiting for you. Listening to the conversation within, his tail hanging low between his legs.

“You have never ever suggested anyone that I wanted. Isn't it enough that I care for him and he cares about me in return? He’s the first person who's ever cared about me!” You’d wailed back “You've never given a shit about finding someone who actually cares about me for me and not for my title!”

Tonowari had broken the two of you up soon after that and you’d stormed out of the entrance with angry tears in your eyes.

It’s safe to say that the tension is still there and Neteyam is trying to keep his distance and keep the peace.

“My mother is Tshaik and takes her duty to the people seriously. You are one of the people now. She will heal you whether she wants to or not” You say simply but with finality. A challenge. You have been challenging Ronal ever since that day. Defending your precious relationship with tooth and nail.

He appreciates it- but feels no less guilty.

Neteyam just squeezes your hand, the one inspecting his all but healed tattoo “I will be fine, please. I think right now distance is for the best. I’ve told you I will have my mom or Tsireya look it over if it starts to lean towards infection, I promise”

You argue and he argues right back. In the end, it’s time that makes the decision.

Your father is outside, waiting for you. He greets the two of you with a smile and a nod. It was time to start rounds.

Tonowari is kind to Neteyam. He accepts the union, and has been trying to keep peace between you and Ronal.

You just sigh. Admitting defeat and get up, “Fine. Just don't be stupid and let someone know if it starts to feel hot again”

“I will. I was going to go home soon anyway. I need a change of clothes” It feels odd to call his parents mauri home. Again, he thinks of what that word means.

“You may as well bring your things over, you spend most of your time here anyways” The way you say it is conversational. Off hand. Factual. You’re fastening your shin guards as his brain is misfiring.

“...All of my things?” Neteyam asks, gobsmacked.

“Obviously. Aren't you tired of going back and forth? Seems exhausting to me. If you need help bringing it all- we can do it tonight if you’d like”

And is it that simple? That he suddenly lives with you? Permanently? Because you are acting as though it is.

“Um?-” Neteyam starts all so eloquently, words not coming out but your father is calling for you. You don't have time to decipher him.

“I will see you later, yes?” you reach for him, holding his face in your hands. He’s still reeling but nods all the same.

“Be a good boy today, won't you?”

You kiss him, a wet smack of a thing, before you’re gone.

And he’s sitting there. He’s pretty sure you just asked him to move in with you.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It is.

Simple.

Neteyam doesn't have much; being uprooted from the forest had left him with barebones. When packing to flee, Jake had instructed them to keep it light.

Somehow you make sure that all of his belongings mesh perfectly with yours. His few woven tapestries line the walls of the mauri perfectly. His weapons are now stored with yours. You even set the teapot that he’s so fond of, the one with intricate carvings that his Grandmother had made, on display in the middle of the living area. Every morning you brew him strong beaned pekoe.

You are so good to him, and he isn't even officially yours.

…but he wants to be.

Neteyam thinks of it day in and out, a fuzzy feeling in his stomach.

As he goes through the motions all he can think about is the way that he wants to be yours. Officially. He wants to wear your bite. The thought is dizzying and sizzles under his skin.

He knows that his heat is inching, creeping near. Has a gnawing feeling that it will arrive earlier than usual. He could blame these feelings on his hormones, on his natural cycle-

But in truth. You affect him more than his own body ever had. And considering how intense his season’s had always been, that was saying something.

He’d always been good at shoving this down, this part of himself. The neediness. The call of his inner Omega that screeched at the moons bi-annually. Heats had always been a nasty business for him- days of writhing in pain, desperate for a knot. Back in the forest Mo’at would drug him up. Teas and tinctures and salves, his body covered in herbs in an attempt to quell his raging hormones. His heats are strong, his grandmother had whispered when he was thirteen and lost to his first time. Strong heat, strong heart. Strong leader.

Funny, he felt anything but in those times of mindless need.

He’d try to warn you about them, about how he gets during his season, and you’d just giggled. Stroked his face and told him you couldn't wait. “I do enjoy a good challenge, I’m sure i’ll be able to keep up”

He wonders if you’ll be making jokes when both of you are in the thick of it. And then, he wonders what it will be like to have a partner.

And that thought is maddening.

Too big and obtuse in his brain, he cant think of anything but. Cant focus enough to be useful during his hunt. His bounty for the day is pitiful, nothing but a net of small fish. He’d down right missed a juvenile Naltusa(shark like creature), the aim was off. Lucky beast, He supposes it wasnt its day to return to Eywa.

Neteyam hauls the nets onto the shore with a few of his fellow hunters, a little quicker then normal. Fast hands and bulging biceps. He hopes he doesnt look as eager as he feels, all he wants to do is get back to the village. Back to you.

“Some days are more abundant then others, we can give it another try tomorrow. The tides should be on our side then, they’re very shifty in the warm season” Kenai’s a cheery Beta that Neteyam has come to grow fond of. Him and his mate Akemi are close friends of yours and they’ve taken him under their wing so to speak. He appreciates it.

“Naltusa meat is nasty sort, any way. Too tough- we’d be picking it out of our teeth for weeks.” Akemi adds. He’s a huge bulking mountain of a man and if Neteyam didn't know better he would have thought he was an Alpha. Instead, everything about Akemi is Beta soft, from his words to his pheromones.

“Even mighty warriors miss sometimes” his little brother shoves him with his shoulder good naturedly.

Lo’ak and Roxto surround them as well, neither with the markings of adulthood quite yet- if they wanted to attempt their own Iknimaya in the next cycle they figured it would be the best to ‘hands on train’. It's really an excuse for them to tag along, ride the waves. Catch a glimpse of the pretty girls that sway in the shallows, working on collecting from the crab traps.

Neteyam just grins good naturedly with a shrug “Gotta miss a couple times and give you the chance to catch up, don't I?”

A hunter who doesn't gut his own catch isn't much of a hunter at all, no matter the size of the bounty. Dirty work had never strayed Neteyam. Even though back in the forest the other hunters had jabbed about him being too pretty for it.

He listens to his companions chatter, content. His hands are moving, keeping busy. He doest add much to the conversation and that's okay.

He’d been an easy baby, Neytiri told the stories. Barely a peep, no crying or fussing. A quiet child, eager to escape into the thick trees whenever possible. Most had been impressed with his first kill, the fact that he'd accomplished it at such a young age. They grilled him, excited and envious then laughed at his answer. All he’d done is be silent.

The sun is so bright and strong on the isle’s, reflecting off the sea like a mirror. Even late in the afternoon when they return to the village.

Neteyam’s finally started to adjust to the intense rays but still, he longs for the damp sweet shade that came with the forest and its unbreachable canopy’s.There’s sweat beading from his hairline and down his back. He rubs at it with the back of his hand-

“Are you okay, my friend?” Akemi asks after Neteyam has stopped yet again to catch his breath.

“Fine, just hot”

“Don't worry, the storms in the evening will bring cooler weathers. You’ll have to hold our girl close though, she hates ‘em” Akemi grins as they walk along the spongy netted pathways.

“Why?” Neteyam inquires as they sidestep a group of giggling younglings and the Narisi’io(Nanny) that chases them “Is she scared of them?”

“Oh, she’s terrified” Akemi grins knowingly “She has been since we were little, but don't tell her I told you that. You know how she is, always pretending she has no fears. But a little thunder- Eywa forbid lightning, and she’s all but hiding under her bed mat”

Neteyam knows it's stupid but he’s almost jealous that Akemi knows all of this about you. He only wishes that he could’ve seen you, small and ornery. If he can only get in tales, then he’llgreedily take it “Really? She’s never told me that. Anything else I should know?”

Akemi laughs and leans into Neteyam’s space conspiratorially “I will tell you all you need to know- and most you don't. You’ll have to come by soon, spend the evening with us. My Kenai makes the most delicious shellfish stew, don't you, Tiwayn(love)?”

Kenai just chuckles and blushes as Akemi waxes poetic about the thick roux and mix of spices.

Neteyam smiles at the couple. He thinks he knows what that feels like now. To love someone so much that you want to sing their praises to anyone who will hear.

He spots you in the distance, like some sort of beacon. His eyes can find you in crowds so easily now, it's like his body has been rewired to hone in on yours.

You're just outside the big Mauri and he figures the meetings must be over. You stand in a group of elders and tribe leaders. You're smaller than most, your frame so easy to tower above, and yet you hold your own. Shoulders squared and head high. It makes something in his belly bloom. Pride, he thinks.

Yes, he understands Akemi’s need to tell everyone just how amazing he thinks his mate is.

Neteyam has a stupid smile on his face. He just knows that Lo’ak is two seconds away from making fun of him, as usual, for being undeniably whipped-

And Neteyam cant even deny it.

Sometimes, he doesn't like the way people look at you.

Most look at you with adoration, reverence and warmth. Some with heat and lust that makes his hackles rise. The occasional glance of exasperation because of your bold nature. He knows first hand what it’s like to feel all eyes on you, all the time. Knows that you mostly try to ignore it or are so used to it you no longer feel the stares.

There’s one member of the clan that looks at you in a way that makes Neteyams fingers itch for his tstal(dagger).

Vaeyu is everything Neteyam has come to know about Alpha’s and all that he hates. Tall and big and brooding, he uses his body like a weapon and his sharp words and condescending tone like a threat. And that would be enough for Neteyam to dislike him in general.

But.

Its the way that Vaeyu looks at you that cements Neteyam’s distaste for the Alpha.

All sharp and judgmental, or when Tonowari or anyone of importance is around; sickeningly sweet and perpetually bordering condescending.

Neteyam noticed it, even though he hasn't told anyone. The microaggressions. Vaeyu will take any and all chances to dig at you. They’re small things, conversational. He says it with that even voice- a smile on his face. What truly confuses Neteyam is the way that you react. He expects bloodshed; your sharp fangs and that dagger that you keep on your hip at all times go unused. You just…allow it.

Even now when the Alpha approaches you, you just seem to close up. Your arms folded over your chest and your jaw ticking as you grind your teeth. To anyone else it may seem normal. But he knows you.

“I fucking hate that guy” For a moment Neteyam thinks that he’s spoken his thoughts aloud, but the words had come in Akemi’s deep timbre. “I wish he’d just stay away from her.”

“Me too, he seems like a real dickhead” Lo’ak agrees, remembering when the Alpha had joined in on the teasing with Ao’nung and his lackies. The difference between them and him? Ao’nung was a juvenile who didnt know better. Vaeyu a fully fledged adult with a family. Cruelty and ignorance have different tastes.

Neteyam doesn't need to voice his distaste, it’s written all over his face.

There’s any so much he can take. You look so uncomfortable and that just will not do. His feet are carrying almost without his permission. He needs to protect his Alpha. Needs to make sure that you’re okay. There's really no other thoughts in his head, its like fuel.

“See you later, bro! Told you he’s down bad-“Lo’ak calls from behind him rolling his eyes at Neteyam when he gives the group a halfhearted wave.

Your eyes light up as they connect with his. Your whole body just relaxes, like a flower unfurling in the sunlight. “Neteyam, what’re you doing here, I thought you were hunting”

Neteyam’s arm goes around you and he can sense your slight shock. He isn’t a fan of public displays of affection and even though you insist that it’s okay, he knows you crave it.

As his hands rest on your soft warm skin he doesn't think he’ll ever be letting it go again. Fuck it, he cares not who sees.

Actually in this moment there's one person he actively wants to see.

He leans in to press a kiss to your cheek, but his eyes never leave Vaeyu’s. The Alpha is tall and obnoxiously broad, he likes letting it be known. Funny, the way Neteyam stands just as tall and never has to flaunt his size.

“All done for the day, I thought I’d come find you and see if you are as well. I hoped we could spend the afternoon together” Neteyam tells you and it’s half true.

It's not a hope. You’re done for the day whether you like it or not. “Are we done here?” he presses.

It’s not really you he’s speaking to.

Vaeyu’s eyes dance with fire. Anger at being challenged by an Omega…but something else. You cant into Neteyam’s touch, your arms going around his middle as you reach up to kiss at his jaw-

And, ah. Neteyam is able to identify that other emotion. Jealousy.

“Come, I am quite hungry. Are you going to feed me, Sayrip(handsome)?”

“Of course I am, come. Let's go back to our home” If Neteyam emphasizes the word our, it's because he’s not sure Vaeyu saw him move his things in the other day.

As the two of you walk away, backs turned, Neteyam shoots the Alpha one last look. His golden gaze sharp and cautioning as his long thin tail wraps around your upper thigh.

An obvious claim

Vaeyu looks away and Neteyam roars in victory. Internally, of course.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

He’s thrilled that you let him tug you along, past the Mauri. You dont question it as he leads you down onto the beach, away from the village and into the thick trees. You make him bold in a way that he never had been. You follow him deep into the bush. Trudging along beside him.

When the rocky cliff face come into view you start questioning again “Seriously, where are you taking me, Teyam?”

“I need you to trust me, and listen, very closely” Neteyam instructs, letting go of your hand to step closer to the rocks. He looks up, to the naked eye the wall of rock looks solid, vine covered and towering. “Stay behind me and make no sudden movements”

The chirp that leaves his mouth is sharp and shrill, followed by a chattering squawk. There is only moments between before it is returned.

Hidden atop the cliffs, the Sully family ikrans had made their new roost. The nesting grounds were high up and nearly in accessible- to anyone who couldn't climb that is. Usually he’d be happy to meet his mount well above the ground but he highly doubts you could make it up that high.

The screech that the beast lets out as she glides down, answering Neteyam’s call, is loud and shrill. Landing right in front of him, kicking up the forest sand beneath her great wings that she stretches ominously. Her jaws snap threateningly as she stands on her hind legs.

Neteyam can hear your fearful gasp from behind him.

“Nimwey” He sighs at the entire display and reaches out to push her mouth shut “Must you be such a brat?”

The ikran had always been so dramatic, such a show off. She actually had one of the most docile natures he’d ever seen in her kind. The point is only proven as she shoves her massive head into his chest- nearly knocking him over. His sweet old girl.

There is a disbelieved laugh behind him, certainly a little hysterical

“This is Nimwey, I have flown with her since I was thirteen” Neteyam speaks slowly, turning to you with his arms still full of scaled beast “She is very sweet but please. Approach slowly”

“Sweet? I am not sure of that…” you’re hesitant, feet rooted as you watch the entire scene. What is completely normal to Neteyam is so far beyond foreign to you.

He knows the feeling.

“I have wanted to introduce the two of you, but there has been no time. And she’s been nesting, haven't you momma?” Neteyam speaks to the ikran like one would a child and not a man eating winged predator. He connects his kuru to Atanzaw’s and the bond curls around him like an embrace.

“We share Tsaheylu, she will not hurt you” Neteyam reassures because Nimwey wouldnt. Not when she can feel for herself what he feels for you.

Your steps are slow and calculated as you approach and once your close enough he reaches for you, and with his hand cradling yours, leads you to press your palm against Nimwey’s side, “Feel her strong lungs, and her heartbeat. She is Eywa’s creation as all are, she’s not scary as she seems”

“She’s so beautiful” you whisper as you run your fingers along her scales. Nimwey is stunning, painted in shades of Azure and Emerald with shiny scales and iridescent wings.

“She is. Something the two of you have in common” Neteyam waxes poetic and the side eye that you and Nimwey shoot him is very insulting.

“I remember the day that you rode in on her. I had never seen anything like it- they don’t get this big here. I’d heard legends of ikran riders from far away lands but never thought I would live to see it” your tone is awe laced and it goes right to Neteyams head.

“Would you like to take a ride with me?” Neteyam had brought you here for this reason. He wants to take you, far away. If only for a bit.

“...You are serious?” You look at him, then at the ikran, then back at him.

“Don't you want to be apart of those legends? The great Metkayinan Olo’eykte who rode an ikran?” Neteyam grins as he says it. He knows your adventurous nature, knows that your need to experience and throw yourself head first into life will lead you to agreeing.

“Is it not dangerous?” You don't say no and he knows he’s already won, he squeezes your shoulder, gently disconnects from the bond, and goes to a nearby tree, climbing it quickly.

The Sullys had stashed their riding gear close, so that they could saddle their mounts in a hurry if need be.

“No more dangerous than swimming in the open ocean. At least in the sky there aren't Akula” Neteyam assures, returning with a large saddle and harness.

“In the water you can't fall to your death” You point out in a deadpan, watching him work. He’s quick and efficient as he is in most things as he bounds his ikran in her riding leathers.

“I would never let that happen” Neteyam reassures earnestly, he was one of the youngest riders to date, he feels more in control in the sky then on ground most times “You do not have to, of course. But I want to share this with you”

“Then take me on a ride, Forest boy.”

You look all too adorable as he slide’s Kiri’s riding visor down over your forehead. He wants to smush your face between his hands like you always do to him. He wishes he had his fathers human camera on him.

He mounts Nimwey carefully, can feel her through the bond. She wants to fly, it had been too long since they’d taken to the sky together.

“Come, Y/N” He pulls you up. In front of him, much to your distress. He want to be able to hold onto you, adjusts you on the saddle until you settle, back against his chest- his arms around you as he holds the reins. “Move with me, when I turn lean with it”

“Any other pointers?” you’re shifty and excited and it bleeds into him. Into the bond. Nimwey braces for flight.

“Don't close your eyes” He speaks it into your hair- before yipping out an ikran call, sending Nimwey into action.

Neteyam will never forget his first flight. The way it had felt to soar high above the clouds, the rush that came with the wind whipping through his braids. It is the most exhilarating experience that he can recall having, he had never felt more free.

Watching you getting to experience your own first is something special.

He wants to cement it somewhere deep in his brain, wants to share it with the Spirit Tree so that he can relive it over and over. He never wants to forget the smile on your face or the way your eyes sparkle with childlike wonder. Flying over the ocean is a beautiful experience, watching the water sparkle where the sun touches it is breathtaking- it brings tears to your eyes.

He takes you everywhere- far out, past Three Brothers Rock and up into the frothy misty clouds. The two of you soar around the isles, laughing and pointing out things you see- a flock of brightly colored Fkio. Fast leaping Naltusa that spin as they breach on cresting waves. The living breathing coral pulses just below the surface.

You like it the most when he flies fast, and banks against the wind. Your thrilled laughter and screams chime in his ears, not lost to the whooshing wind. An adrenaline junkie, his father had deemed you. Just like Lo’ak.

He never wants to come down, would be happy to spend the rest of his days in the air with only you and Zuli as his companions, but life has other plans.

The storms have started to roll in, the clouds ugly and bruised with perspiration. It’s only a matter of time before it starts to rain- when he tells you so you tighten in his arms. Going rigid. Fuck.

“We won't be able to make it back to the village in time, and flying in the rain is dangerous” He hollers apologetically- he couldn't have picked a mild sunny day to do this?

“We should seek cover- here. Head for the Cove of the Ancestors- there are many caves that we use for ceremonies, we can wait it out there” You instruct and Neteyam yanks gently on the reigns, leading Zuli to the instructed destination.

The Cove is breathtaking as ever, Neteyam had only just been allowed at the sacred space after he had passed his rights and earned his place as Metkayina. The Spirit Tree glows, bright and purple under the waves that are much gentler here, guarded by the high dome like cliff structures and floating rocks that protect the tree.

You lead him to the mouth of one of many caves, its big enough for Nimwey to fly straight in. It is good timing, the first fat drops of rain have just started to fall from the sky.

The cave is up high enough around that most of the waves can only lap at the entrance; there is a large fire pit in the middle and torches mounted on the walls. You scurry quickly around, eager to get a fire going.

“What is this place used for?” Neteyam wonders as he works on getting the torches lit.

When you speak your back is still turned to him as you spark flame to the big pit in the center “There are many like this littered along these lower cliffs, the people here to be close to Ranteg Utralti(Metkayina Spirit Tree). Mostly for prayer circles, fertility ceremonies, mating”

Neteyam’s lower belly swoops and his cheeks burn. “Ah, that makes sense…”

He goes through the motions that have been so ingrained in him, checks the perimeters and makes sure that all is secure before pressing the com on his neck. It’s staticy, the connection is rough due to the weather.

“Pathfinder to Devil Dog, comming in, over”

“I read you, Pathfinder. Where are you? This storm is wicked”

“I'm in a cave with Y/N, out near the Cove of the Ancestors, we’re safe and dry-We’re gonna wait it out here”

“Are you sure? If you need me to, I will come in for extraction”

“I am sure. We’ll head back as soon as its clear”

“Stay safe. Keep in contact”

“Roger that”

It is nice here, dry and warm from the fires. Lit by the flickering light of the torches and the glow of bioluminescent flora and fauna that grow on the walls. A soft moss that acts like a cushion covers the harsh rock floor.

Nimwey has left- the old girl doesn't care if it's wet. They’re near prime hunting grounds and from experience he knows the ikran does some of her best work in the rain. She’ll come back, with a full belly for her chicks, when he calls.

You’re near the back wall, lounged against a large rock, legs stretched in front of you and crossed over each other. You may look casual, but Neteyam can see the way that you keep anxiously eyeing the rain that falls in heavy sheets outside. He sits a few feet away, giving you distance if you so want it.

How had this gone so sideways? He just wanted some time with you, all to himself. And now here you we’re, stuck far away from home during a storm and it was completely his fault. This is why he’s never been impulsive, he sucks at it. Such an unlucky skxawng

“I am sorry” He whispers with a wince as he focuses on the fire. On the same day he’d learned you’re scared of storms, he’d flown you out into one.

“What for?” You ask, your big eyes turning to him. So confused and soft that it only makes him feel worse.

“I know you don't like storms, and somehow I got us stuck in one” he grumbles, a little embarrassed. He feels like a shit partner. What kind of Omega was he, leading you out into the wilderness with no food, nothing?

You just smile a little and scootch closer to him until you're pressed along the side of his body “You can't control the weather, Yawntu(my love). No need for apologies” you lean your head on his shoulder and he noses at your temple. Your hair is still all mused and messy from the flight “How did you know i'm afraid of storms?”

At that moment the cave lights up as a blinding flash of lightning strikes and splinters across the sky- followed by a ground shaking clap of thunder.

You jump, a gasp caught in your throat and Neteyam pulls into his lap, hugging you tight in his strong arms.

“I don't know, just a hunch” he teases after a moment, breaking up the tense moment. You laugh but it's forced and you’re stiff as a board. “Can I ask why they scare you so much?”

“What’s not to fear? They’re destructive and uncontrollable- we’re usually protected from the big ones, by the reef you know? But sometimes they slip through. Though far between its always flooding and chaos” you explain and huh, he guesses that makes sense.

Back in the forest he loved storms- but he had always endured them from the comfort of his family Keklu high in the trees, safe from floods and damage.

“This one will not last long, the clouds were low” He reassures in a low voice as he strokes the fly away hairs away from your face “It will pass before you know it, Yawntutsyip(little love)”

“I bet I seem pretty pathetic right now, huh? An Alpha who’s afraid of a little rain” You frame it as a joke, but there’s too much self-depreciation laced in.

“Not at all, it is normal to have fears. Tuk’s an Alpha and she’s scared of all kinds of things”

“She’s also seven years old!” You exclaim aghast at his horrible comparison and he sniggers, brushing your thick hair away from your shoulders so that he can press kisses there.

It’s easy to distract you.

The bubble of conversation that the two of you cocoon yourselves in feels safe and hospitable. It’s one of Neteyam’s favorite things; the way that he can just talk to you. About any and everything. He doesn't care what the subject is, he listens raptly to your words and the minutes fly by.

You end up shifting, lying on your sides, facing one another. Your chin is propped in your hand, elbow on the ground.

The council meeting today had been boring, mostly talks of village construction which he finds amusing that you have such a distaste for. When you mention Vaeyu and his desire for an expansion on his Mauri Neteyam scoffs. One of your dainty browbones raises in question.

“I just…do not like him. At all” Neteyam gripes.

“We can agree on that, but he has high rank so I’m forced to keep cordial with him” You sigh with a roll of your eyes “I fucking loathe politicks”

This is the opening that he’s been waiting for and his curiosity about Vaeuy bubbles to the surface “Do you know him well?”

“Well enough, his parents are close with mine”

“I see…” Neteyam drawls, and he should let the subject drop. Really, he knows. ��Is there anything more?”

“Why? Has someone said something to you?” You sit up a bit and yeah. Yeah he knows that there is so much unsaid. “Has he?”

“No, but I have eyes. There’s some sort of history there. He’s extremely disrespectful to you and I’m not sure why- or why it is allowed” Once Neteyam starts it all flows out of him “I keep expecting you to break his jaw and you just allow it. I’m confused, is it just his rank? Because you outrank him in every sense of the word-”

“Neteyam” You sigh, but he keeps going.

“I know that Alpha’s have their own way of handling things that I don't care to understand-

“Neteyam, please”

It’s sharp and cuts his sentence off. He’s ticked off and down right jealous and you look suddenly very upset again.

“I do not ask about your past partners out of respect…and because it really doesn't matter who you were with before you met me” After a moment of tense silence, he chooses his words very carefully “You were with him, right?”

He expects you to get defensive like you have in the past. Maybe sassy. Put him in his place a little bit.

Instead you droop with shame.

“Yes” you admit and he frowns. It’s not that he’s disappointed in your sexual experience, the same as you aren't in his lack there of. But Vaeyu?

“I know what you’re thinking” you roll onto your back, staring at the glowing cave ceiling as you speak “Why that asshole?”

“Well…yeah” Neteyam replies so unsmoothly, he wants to face palm.

“My whole life has been planned out for me and I’ve learned to be okay with that. Really. The only thing I’ve ever wanted for my own is the chance to choose who I give my heart to” Neteyam knows the sentiment and stays quiet, giving you the space to speak.“Vaeyu was always older and his family was close to mine so he didn't treat me as just the chiefs daughter. I thought he might like me…for me”

The tale that you proceed to weave makes him sick to his stomach.

You had been young and naive and preyed upon by someone you trusted. Vaeyu touched you before you long before your Iknimaya and then dropped you when he’d been unable to get you to submit. Neteyam swears to the Great Mother that if he ever gets the chance, he’ll kill that motherfucker.

“I understand him, in a way,” you whisper, still not looking at Neteyam.

You cant see the way his face scrunches all the way up “And what fucking way is that?”

You bite your bottom lip hard and in the dim light, your eyes shine dangerously. “I’m…a lot . I can understand why someone would be hesitant to bond with me. I won't fool myself into thinking that I am everyone's ideal of a mate”

Neteyam’s chest seizes painfully and it feels like a part of him shatters hearing you speak about yourself in such ways. His poor sweetheart. He reaches out- he wants to dig his nails onto you and shake you because how could you think that you are anything less than magnificent?

Instead his fingers gently trace along your arms, before his hand settles on your chest. He presses his palm to the place above your heart.

“Oel ngati kameie” He says the words that his soul had known. Known since that very first one on one training session. He thinks that maybe he'd known before he was born. His past selves must have loved you, too.

You turn to look at him, tears creepingg down your cheeks “You don't have to…”

Neteyam had always thought that he was put on Eywa’eveng to be a good son. Brother. Hunter.

But now suspects that the All Mother may have created him to find you. And love you, wholly. To love every part of you that others had deemed undesirable.

“Oh baby,” He whispers the English endearment,

“Loving you is as easy for me as breathing. It’s not something I have to force myself to do. It is not a hardship. I’m sorry if anyone made you think differently”

His hand goes to your face, still with gentle touches, but you cup it in your own and press down firm, grounding you both. Your eyes are close, as though your bracing against coming impact.

“All I think about is bonding you. I want a life with you, Y/N” That is an understatement. He wants to wake up with you every morning. Wants to hunt with you. Wants to cook every meal. Wants to see you round with his children, wants to fill your shared Mauri to the brim with little ones that have your eyes and your wild streak “Let me show you”

When he lets go of you, it's so that he can reach behind himself and pull his thick shiny braid over his shoulder.

He offers his kuru to you. Because it’s yours already. Has been, just like the rest of him.

Your eyes follow his movements, widening as you realize what his intentions are. Just for a moment, before they go gentle and you reach for your own braid.

The two of you sit up, both propped on your shins. Kuru’s in hand, the lavender tendrils squirm. Reaching blindly in the dark, desperate for connection.

“Are you sure you’re ready,Neteyam, truly?” even then you have to question it and it makes his need to prove his dedication to you that much stronger“I don't want you to regret this”

“I want to be yours” Neteyam states simply because that is his truth. “I don't need a big ceremony, I couldn't care less about things like that, honestly . We’re here, at the Spirit Tree, in front of Eywa. That’s all that matters to me”

The distance between the tendrils is shortened, then closed. They twine together seamlessly, as though they had always meant to.

The bond is sealed and he can’t help but gasp.

He, as most Na'vi, had spent his life thinking about Tsaheylu. What would it be like to share the sacred bond with another? He’d imagined it, daydreamed about it when he got lonely. Listened to stories both scandalous and reverent.

Nothing could prepare him for the reality.

It’s all consuming and overwhelming, euphoria sings through his veins at being connected to you.

You and Neteyam blur.

Two souls into one being. He can feel you inside of him; your strong wild heart beats within his own chest now.

You collapse into each other: Neteyam slumps, leaning into you. Head falling into your bosom, his cheek smushed against your skin. You welcome him, wrap your arms around his neck, cradling him that much closer.

Why had no one told him it felt like this? He should’ve bonded with you the moment he met you. He wants to crawl under your skin and never come out.

“Yours” he slurs, still unable to open his eyes at the onslaught of intense stimulation “I’m finally yours”

Your joy is bright and eclectic, your love all consuming. He can feel the way that you want him. That you yearn for him. To you he is all things; strong and tender. He’s both the inky night with all of its danger and rough uncertainty and the soft gentle rays of first light during sunrise. He is nuanced and dynamic; you do not just see him as an Omgea. You see him as a person; your equal.

“And I am yours” Your voice echos in his head without you having to speak. “All of me, Neteyam. You can have everything”

His fingers trail along your turquoise skin, groping, taking handfuls of you. Your clothing is stripped, slow and revenant. He’s seen you before, gotten to suckle at your breast and taste your sweet cunt, but it feels different now. New. Every inch of bare skin is a revelation to him.

You’re less graceful than him, more hedonistic. It goes straight to his head, is undeniably sexy as you tug at his tweng roughly- yanking it off his body and manhandling him until he lies flat on his back.

“Fuck, Nete” you groan. He knows what he looks like, he can see himself through your eyes. Liked out on the cave floor, his braids sprawled around his head like a halo. His legs are open and his body lax. He’s the perfect picture of submission.

He’d only ever do this for you “You can have everything” he echo’s your words back to you.

Neteyams already rock hard, his cock peeking out from his puffy swollen slit. The sloppy pumps you give him are only precautionary really, making sure that he’s completely unsheathed before you mount him, your thick thighs spread wide, knees caging in his thin waist.

He can feel the warmth that radiates from your center, the apex of your body calling out to him. His hips rise, seeking it out and the tip of his cock spears through your wet pussy lips.

He hisses at the friction and you just smile, grabbing his girth and aiming it right at your pulsating hole “Slow my love, you’re bigger than anything I’ve ever taken”

His cock jumps in your hold and then you’re sinking down on him.

A crack of thunder rattles the cave but Neteyam doesn't hear it, not really. He feels like his head is underwater, his ears filled with fuzz as your body envelopes him. You take him all the way to the hilt, until your pussy kisses his smooth pubic bone.

There is no greater connection a Na’vi can have, he’s closer to you then he had ever been to anyone. Your kuru’s still connected in Tsaheylu- your bodies joined in harmony.

He can't look away from you, his tawny eyes are glued to your pretty face. Your brows are drawn tightly together, your nose scrunching as you pant. When you circle your hips he lets out a whine that's down right pathetic.

It’s like once the both of you get a taste of that friction, all rules are off.

The need for more is maddening, has you both wriggling and clashing. It’s not the sweet loving making that most think comes with the first time. Neteyam loses his virginity in a desperate frenzy.

He may be submissive, comfortable with being that for you now but he will never be passive. He chases not only his pleasure but yours. His hips snap, hard as they can, up and into you. Watching with his mouth hung open as you bounce atop of them in rough little jerks.

“Oh” you can't catch your breath around the trusts that knock the air from your lungs “G-g-great mother!”

He needs more leverage, needs you close. He reaches for the necklace he’d strung for you. So pretty around your throat, swaying in time with your heaving breaths, and tugs you down onto his wide chest, holding you painfully tight there as he continues to pound you from below.

With your face buried in his neck you have access to his sensitive gland, you worry it with your teeth for a moment “Neteyam- please, let me” you speak right into his skin

“Y/N” his voice is desperate and husky in your ear “Do it. Bite me, fucking knot me. Do it” Your fangs sink into his gland as your body locks around him tight and Neteyam goes limp. Literally. His secondary gender takes over completely. He’s been marked and knotted by his Alpha. He doesn't need to move, does not need to think.

He has you for that now. To take care of him.

He comes with a whine shooting off inside of you as you rhythmically pulse around him. He wants it to take- wants his cum to fill up your womb, to have a piece of him living inside you forever.

In the haze he can barely hold his head up, his arms and legs are useless and loose and your a heavy comforting weight above him. He’s too deep in the post-coital bliss to realize that the rain has slowed to a light drizzle or that the fire is close to being out.

You coo at him, rubbing him down with gentle massaging touches “You’re okay, Paskalin(honey). You did so well for me” you nuzzle at the side of his jaw.

Its quiet sept for the crackling of the dying fire and your sweet comforting hums for a while as the two of you lie in a mess of tangled limbs, still just basking in the connection. It takes him a ridiculous amount of time to formulate the thoughts in his head to words,

“Alpha?” he calls for you and you purr at the name.

“I think I’m going into heat”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Neteyam had been correct, of course. He could read the signs of his own body well enough. He’d managed to fly the two of you safely back to the village before he’d lost himself to his primal needs.

That was days ago, how many he doesn't know. All he knows is the eclipses come and go as the two of you barricade yourselves in your home. Your bed mat has been turned into a nest of blankets and quilts and cushions- it smells like your combined pheromones and feels like heaven.

The people celebrate the mating of their future chief joyously. Neteyam had proudly displayed his bloody neck, his long hair pulled back so that all could see the mark your canines had left on him.

The mauri is littered with gifs; baskets of fruit and folded leaf pockets full of sweet steamed meat. Jugs of water and juices and wines. Cakes and sweet rice in clay bowls.Tapestries and woven throws. Necklaces and bracelets.

The clan takes turns coming to the closed mouth of their Mauri and saying their prayers, leaving the gifts behind as an offering. As a token of good fortune.

The celebration drums haven't stopped and play in a constant rhythm that flows in through the windows.

Your families had checked in multiple times, leaving their own gifts. Jake and Neytiri had left a large blanket that they and Neteyam’s siblings had scented. The combined scents of love are palpable. He’d added it to the nest. His mother had helped him unbraid his hair before leaving, freeing his long inkky locks.

Your mother and father; Olo’eyktan and Tshaik had brought salves and tonics, medicines to get you through. Your mother kisses both of your heads as she sings a slow, soulful song. There is nothing to do but accept the mating, it had been performed at the Spirit Tree and bleeded by Eywa. Neteyam had almost cried when she patted his head before leaving. He hadn't realized just how desperately he wanted her approval.

His heats had always been dreaded miserable times. He’d dreadfully count down the days to them and then struggle through with only his hand and the potions his Grandmother brewed.

This one is so different from anything he knew. He spends his days doted upon. You spoil him rotten with hand fed bites of food and endless rounds of knotting. With sponge baths and massages.

If all heats were to be like this, he knows that he’d start to greet them with eagerness instead of dread.

He thought he knew about sex. Had spent months exploring with you in your secret spot in the forest; but holy fuck. He really hadn't known shit.

The two of you take each other in ways that Neteyam had not known existed. Hours of tantric love making that ends in him literally collapsing into slumber. Its rough and hard and slow and passionate and everything in between. He’s orgasmed so much that he’d lost count. He’d forgotten what it was like to wear clothes, to be without your touch.

He knows his heat is sadly weaning to an end. The fire in his blood has begun to cool, satiated by his Alpha.

…He still cant keeps his hands to himself.

Touching turns to kissing and kissing turns to you licking every inch of his sweaty bare body. Neteyam is squirmy and sore but lets you get at what you want, his thighs parting easy and wide so that you can slide between them head first.

Fucking Eywa. How had he lived without your mouth for twenty years of his life?

You’re so good with it; all fast talking and sweet kisses. He loves those plush petal like lips so very much.

Especially when they’re wrapped around his cock. You suckle him where he’s hard so perfectly, rubbing his length all over your face before taking it down your throat. Neteyam knows he wont last long, he never can when you do this…

Especially not when you begin to drift lower, mouthing at his sack, pulling at his ballls with careful little nips. Neteyam knots his long fingers in your long thick hair, his hips raising as you give his furled ass hole a wet open mouthed kiss.

It’s still swollen from your previous assault on it; you’d shoved him full so many times in the last week. He’d ridden your face and your fist and your tongue more times then he could count.

He’d never really played with himself there before you, couldn't get over the burn and awkward angle that came with his own fingers. But All Mother, you’re so good at this.

You suckle on the wrinkled skin, getting it all wet and messy and loose as possible with your tongue before you slide your fingers into his tight body. Neteyam groans and throws his head back so hard his neck hurts.

You’re so familiar with his insides now, its all to easy to find his sweet spot. That bundle of nerves hidden far inside that makes him scream every time you touch it.

“Please” Neteyam blubbers as you prod at him “Be gentle, Ma Muntxa(mate). I'm still so sore inside”

You snort, rolling your eyes meanly “You think I’m not? Should I keep my pussy away from you because you hurt it when you jack hammer into me like a man possessed?”

He just whines and clenches down on your dainty fingers.

“This hole is mine, Neteyam. It’s mine to do with what I please. If I want to lick it, fuck it. Spread it open and watch it flutter for me. I will, and you’ll let me, won't you sweet Omega?” You speak to him in a tone that’s all Alpha and it makes his core shake.

He’d always loathed being called by his designation, but he adores it when you call him your Omega now. He just bites at his lower lip and nods.

You’re finger fucking is slow and hard; a prostate masssage that leaves him shaking and gasping. His chest heaving so hard that his lungs hurt as you work him inside out. Internal orgasms feel different, they’re more intense and yet his body can push out multiple at a time.

You watch him dirty his own pretty striped belly over and over with his own milky cum.

By the time his third orgasm rocks through him his thighs are shaking and muscles are cramping up. He’s running away from your touch, his hips shifting away from the finger fucking at every turn. The oversensitivity has his ears twitching and tails whipping under him. All he can do is hold on for the ride.

“Enough” he begs for mercy, his tone high and whiny and nasally from the overstimulated tears escaping the corners of his eyes and rolling down his temples and into his hairline “I feel like I’m gonna pass out. I cant- I cant”

“Awe but look, baby. You just got fully hard again. You dont want to try to fuck me?” You chide with a tut of your tongue as you pull away from his groin. Wiping your messy mouth on the back of your arm as you pout.

How is he the one that is in heat, and he still can't manage to keep up with you? He gives a hysterical, non believing huff of laughter “I do not think I can. You broke me”

You rub his calf for a moment, getting that contracting knot out before sitting back on your haunches “I dont know, I think you’re underestimating yourself”

Your movements are so fluid, a taunting teasing dance for only his eyes as you arrange your body infront of him in a way that he never in his wildest imagination could’ve imagined.

You face away from him, on your hands and knees and then drop your chest low until the whole top half of your body is pressed against the bedding. Your ass is still high up in the air, jutting out in a clear offering. When your thick tail moves, revealing the plump slick lips of your cunt and the tiny tight ring of your asshole

Neteyam’s eyes almost fall out of his head.

You’re presenting. A move so submissive that most Alphas look down on it. Only Omegas and Betas present. What you’re doing for him is utterly unheard of.

You reach behind yourself, your small hand tugging at the thigh jiggle of your asscheek, spreading even further “It’s all yours, Neteyam. Come take care of me”

He groans, hie eyes rolling as he bites hard at his knuckle “What am I going to do with you, woman?”

But he’s already zeroing in, ready to give you exactly what you please.

“Love me forever” you suggest innocently with a giggle.

“Ay” Neteyam’s chest hurts, so heavy and full, with all of his feelings for you. How is he supposed to keep them contained in his body? He loves you like he’s never loved anything before “I think I’ll do just that”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

This chapter was the most exhausting fucking thing i’ve ever writtem my GOD. Between the smut and all of the emotion? Yeah it almost took me out.

Do we like super long chapters? Or should I separate them into multiple little ones?

I def expressed some real feelings here through Y/N, that feeling of not being enough? Fucking painful and we’ve all been there.

I also hate rain and was the victim of flooding this year so that was a nice release lol.

Vaeyu is a creeper and better sleep with one eye OPEN.

Neteyam and Akemi are such a fun duo and I can't wait to explore them in the future.

PLEASE GIVE ME SOME FEED BACK ON THIS ONE GUYS. It mentally drained me and i need replenishment.

Next time we get to see her rut!

As usual I wanna thank my Omegaverse besties for keeping me sane and inspired! @cinetrix @tiredmamaissy @tru-blubelle @imperihoe @eywascall

[gerec]

fairytale style AU? I'm feeling a bit cheesy

There are a lot of great fairy tale aus in this fandom, Anon; here are a few that I hope you enjoy!

The Changeling Prince by Regann

While seeking help to break a magical curse, a soldier named Erik finds himself trying to solve the mystery of a young prince's illness, a task that leads him deeper into the fickle world of the fae than he ever imagined. (Fairytale AU)

Tale As Old As Time by madneto

Charles is a bibliophile living with his stepbrother in a remote village. Erik is a lonely prince with an affliction he doesn't know how to control. Logan is the greatest hunter in the whole world.

Little Blue Riding Hood by Pangea

An extremely serious retelling of Little Red Riding Hood.

Gain Your Freedom by Synekdokee 

“Why are you so concerned,” the king asked, voice strained. “You are here against your will. You were gifted to me against your consent. When I die, you shall gain your freedom.”

The Most Powerful Thing in the World by velvetcadence

Charles has been cursed with a pig's nose, and only true love can break the spell.

The Little Polar Bear (East of the Sun and West of the Moon) by kageillusionz

In a Modern, Powered AU, Charles Xavier is a struggling post-graduate student who works part time as a waiter for a catering job. His father once owned the prestigious toy company called The Little Polar Bear, that is until he died in a factory fire and his mother remarried to the Markos who run it to the ground.

As fate will have it, Charles is working the night The Little Polar Bear undergoes a merger with Das Spielwarengeschäft mit der Maus, an overseas toy company that is run by the enigmatic Erik Lehnsherr who always keeps part of his face covered.

This is the story of them falling in love and facing a number of trials and tribulations to stay together. Based loosely from the Norwegian fairytale East of the Sun, West of the Moon and written for Round Two of X-Men Big Bang.

The Sleeping Beauty in the Ivory Tower (- or Erik Lehnsherr is a hopeless romantic) by ximeria

There is a tale, out among the stars, of a sleeping beauty in an ivory tower.

Maze by AuraWhiteFox

The last thing Erik expected to deal with was a child kidnapping King from another dimension. But that’s what happening. When one night became too much and Erik wished his children gone the Goblin King accepted his wish and stole them away.

Faced with a future without his children Erik makes a deal with the King, if he can solve the Maze and make it to the Goblin King’s castle in 12 hours he can have his children back.

If he doesn’t…his children will remain in the Goblin’s hands…as too will Erik.

The Sleeping Prince by Gerec 

Erik grew up on tales of the Sleeping Prince, the beautiful boy who slumbers in his castle, waiting for true love's kiss. His stepbrother Sebastian pushes him to go searching for Charles, hoping to wake him and claim a just reward. But when they find the Prince still asleep in his Tower, a simple kiss isn't enough to break the spell...

...so Sebastian suggests they try a little something more.

(A dark, Sleeping Beauty AU).

Erik by jackpack

The Shrek AU nobody asked for. Erik is a mutant living deep in the woods of Genosha, whose land is suddenly invaded by other displaced mutants. Angry, he approaches Lord Stryker, who says that he will only give Erik his land back if he brings him Prince Charles Xavier, the fairest royal in the land and the heir to the Genoshian throne, who has been kept in a tower since his childhood and hidden from the world.

Burn as Blue by ang3lsh1

When the King liberates Prince Erik from the dragon and carries him back to the kingdom, he doesn't realise that Prince Erik feels that he's been kidnapped instead and is determined to make his way back to his dragon.

Love Like Winter by garnettrees (unfinished but amazing and highly recommended!)

"Once, when all the world was green and young, there lived two very different little boys..."

Now these boys have grown, thrust onto a political battlefield filled with long-held grudges and secret motives. Charles has spent the majority of his adult life studying and teaching the finer points of spell casting.

Erik... Erik fights for what is his.

More Than All The World (The Werewolf's Tale) by luninosity

An Erik/Charles story very loosely based on Marie de France’s 12th-century French werewolf tale, in which Erik is the man transformed into a wolf (he’ll get changed back by the end, it’s not that kind of story, though they very definitely do fall in love) and Charles is a king and eventually there’s a happy ending. Also, a villain’s nose gets bitten off.

A Tale of Two Kingdoms by Pangea

The Swan by waitfornight 

In 1939 Erik and his sister Ruth are sent to Devonshire, England, during the Kindertransport refugee program to live with Kurt and Sharon Marko as foster children just before the start of World War II. Angry and wishing he could return home on the night of his seventeenth birthday, Erik meets a boy alone in the forest who is cursed to transform each day into a swan, only taking his true form by night.

Swan Lake AU.

Beyond the Brambles by velvetcadence

Erik won't wake up unless Charles kisses him down there. A Sleeping Beauty AU.

The Sleeping Prince by stickmarionette

The King and Queen both came to a violent end, as so many kings and queens of Genosha had before them. A shame, but all tales of this sort need blood to feed them.

As for the Crown Prince, just fifteen years old and full of promise, he fell into a deep sleep from which no method devised by the best healers in Genosha could wake him.

The tale of Erik Lehnsherr and the Sleeping Prince of Genosha.

Till Human Voices Wake Us And We Drown by SharpestScalpel

Charles is a selkie. Erik finds his pelt.

Snow White & Sky Blue by TurtleTotem

In which Mother MacTaggert raises two mutant infants left to die in the forest, Shaw is an evil dwarf, and Erik is a bear. (An XMFC version of the fairy tale "Snow White and Rose Red".)

As They Kept Falling the Way Leaves Do by cm (mumblemutter) 

Charles saves Erik.

A Wolf Eats the Sun by SharpestScalpel

For a kink meme prompt:

Charles = red riding hood Erik = the hunter Shaw = the wolf

Can be as vanilla or as smexy as you want given how the red hood in the original parable is supposed to represent a girl's virginity lol

Happily Ever After, My Arse! by ximeria

Fairy Land has had a nice, long run of the show Happily Ever After, but with it gearing up to its 13th season, the previous two years' dwindling viewer numbers mean this might be the last one.

The premise has always been a selection of contestants competing for a happily ever after. No one has ever considered adding a clause specifying that villains can't participate. So what happens when the Master of Magnetism decides to join in on the 'fun'?

The show might turn out to be a total disaster — or a total success if the show’s suffering host, Charles Xavier, manages to come to terms with several things, the pressing one among them being his budding attraction to this impossible man. Not that his co-host, Raven, makes it easy for Charles to stay in denial when she’s in charge of dressing up the contestants.

Add in a tablespoon of Shrek, some How to Train your Dragon and a pinch of Monsters' Inc and your Happily Ever After might just not flambè your arse

[twoidiotwriters1]

Chapter 1. Fun Times & Potty Rooms

Summary: Dearest Gentle reader, as another season starts so do the surprises. Masterlist // Next Chapter Words: 1,517 Listen to: What's Up? -by Non 4 Blondes A/N: Don't forget to leave feedback, please! -Danny

Dear Diary,

Mother insists I write even though she knows this isn't what I meant when I said I wanted to write. I'm not a self-referential lady who enjoys talking to herself; in fact, I believe it is quite silly and embarrassing. But alas, I am writing. To myself. 

Why, you ask? Well, for the first time in my five-and-twenty years of living, I'll spend some time away from home. Mother thinks it's time I do so, otherwise I'll be a perfect stranger to other royals and no one will know of me once I become Queen. When I said in jest that it was my intention, Mother didn't laugh. Which hurt plenty, because she usually laughs at the nonsense I spit. Which means she must want me to mingle and socialize. Lord have mercy on all of us.

Mother used to be just like me when she was my age, but she is so regal nowadays that you wouldn't believe she used to trip over armour and set fire to gentlemen's suits. My father fell in love with Mother because she was fire, he often jests.

Are these the things one writes in a diary? I must admit I'm doing this with half a mind since I'm also watching over my twin brothers, Richard and Rowan, and my younger sister Marie, so they do not fall off of the moving carriage. I wish I were more like Marie, graceful and charming, she's all dad. 

I'm boisterous when careless, with my head in the clouds and unable to land swiftly... How is this journey to England going to change that? A bunch of mummies live in that palace. My maid said they are the most rigid crowd I'll ever meet.

The fun awaits.

Benedict rises from his slumber tangled in two different bodies, with the sun streaming down on his face and immediately heightening the dormant headache. When he props himself up, the man on his right rolls over groaning and covering his head with a pillow, then the woman on his left curls away from him, pulling the covers closer to her bare body, baring Benedict and showing the marks all over his body. He used to find satisfaction in them, but lately, the day after his love affairs has been causing him a most unpleasant irk.

Maybe it's time to... settle down?

Benedict shrugs off the thought with a grimace. A boring aristocratic life accompanied by some sensible woman sends him reeling, it's all a bit too serious, and deep within his heart, he's always felt that he could not possibly abandon this type of life. Such a wide variety of companions to love... Why would he quit it?

No fun at all.

You step out of the carriage and your foot slips. Helped by the footman, you give him a soft thank you and offer him a kind smile, but he doesn't look up at you at any moment. You sigh, realizing this trip is bound to be exactly what you imagined.

Your siblings hurry after you and you chastise them. Even though you're around the same age, the twins are just entering their twenties, therefore it's hard to make them understand being loud and bold isn't cute anymore. Your sister holds your arm as she looks up at the castle with curiosity.

"Ample..." Marie says bemusedly.

"All that wasted space," you sigh. "They don't have toilets here, so you'll have to go in your room in a pissy bowl—"

"Y/N," your mother, Queen Amelia, stops beside you giving you a look. "Don't even think about complaining in the Queen's presence... but call it a potty if you are to be funny. Pissy bowl makes you sound five."

You and your sister giggle, which makes your mother send a conspiratory wink your way. A lovely woman. Your father, King Nicholas, comes up the steps and presses his hands to your backs, urging the two of you to enter the castle. 

"In girls, it looks like rain..."

"Are we to spend all of our time indoors, then?" Your sister pouts. 

"That is less than ideal, considering Y/N is here to be outdoors for a change, but I suppose it depends on the weather," your father glares at the sky. "England wishes to give us a proper welcome."

"No, thank you!" Marie picks up her pace.

"I spend time outdoors," you argue under your breath.

The man smiles. "Let me rephrase, then. To meet new people and spend time with them outdoors."

As you enter the wide hall you're welcomed by the Queen of England and her many children. A few are closer to your age, but you do not like the way the male part of the bunch eyes you and your sister. Or the way the Princesses look at your brothers, for that matter.

"Your Majesty, Queen Amelia of Genovia. King Consort, Nicholas Devereaux, and their children— Princess Y/N Devereaux, Princess Marie Devereaux, and the Princes Richard and Rowan Devereaux."

While the girls curtsy and the boys bow, the queens greet each other. Queen Charlotte spares a brief glance toward your father and a little 'hmph' escapes her lips with no further comment. King Nicholas, a man with a sense of humour, glances your way and pretends to loosen his cravat anxiously while gulping, which makes you giggle.

"Ah, Benedict, there you are," Violet surveys her son over the teacup she's holding. "Took you long enough to join us. Where have you been?"

"Morning, Mother, I apologize," he smiles and sits next to Gregory. "I woke up early and walked around Hyde Park hoping for inspiration to strike."

"Seems to me you were the one striking," Colin mutters across the table, eyeing his brother's neck with a grin. Benedict pulls his cravat higher up and glares at his brother to keep quiet.

"Benedict, did you hear the news?" Hyacinth speaks, almost shaking with excitement. "A royal family is attending the first ball of the season!"

"There is always some royal family at balls, isn't it?" He retorts without interest.

"The Queen and King of Genovia are staying in London for the whole season," Anthony says carefully. "Along with their two daughters and sons. I expect you to keep the family name as pristine as ever."

"Is this why you're here and not at home with your wife?" Benedict asks. "You came to scold us ahead in case we were planning to make a fool of ourselves?" Anthony doesn't dignify the question with an answer, he looks at his brother with a steely glare for a few extra seconds before he goes back to his food. Like I care about flimsy princesses, Benedict thinks with disdain.

"Whistledown says this will be the first public appearance of Princess Y/N!" Hyacinth continues, unbothered by her brothers's lack of excitement. "I wish I were old enough to attend the ball..." She turns to Francesca and Eloise. "Will you try to befriend her for me? She must be your age."

Eloise scoffs. "Befriend a princess? If she's anything like ours, she'll be all night fanning herself looking down at every poor mortal that dares walk within her breathing distance."

"They're not quite like us," Colin points out, just as fond of gossip as his sister. "Ever since Queen Amelia ascended to the throne, Genovia has been known for their... er... forward thinking."

Benedict snorts. Whatever royalty considers "forward thinking" is not even halfway there. Eloise, however, leans on the table wanting to hear more of it. "What do you mean, brother?"

"Women are encouraged to get higher education. They participate in sports, hunts, arts— and can wear male's clothing—"

That pulls a gasp from their mother and Eloise, although they're both different sounds in nature. Violet blushes and replies in a shy voice. "Oh, well... if it works for them..."

"They're well on their way to becoming a leading nation," Colin continues excitedly. "Which is why the Queen has invited them. Whistledown made a joke last month... something about England living in the Dark Ages and being the reason why people branch out and leave the country, claimed that Genovia would double in size thanks to us... it was quite merciless."

Anthony shakes his head. "You let women do stuff they're already doing in the privacy of their homes and call it revolutionary. Please."

What would the Queen of Genovia think of people like Benedict? Maybe he should visit the country, perhaps this very season, he would try anything just to escape the usual horde of debutants and dull social events...

"Well, there is a great deal of difference between having to be private and choosing to be," Francesca argues. Benedict smiles at her, a silent compliment he gives every time she outwits Anthony.

"There are other things happening in Genovia, it's not all about women," Colin shrugs it off. "I was just giving an example I knew would interest Eloise the most."

"And which ones were left out of your consideration?" Eloise grins.

"The potty rooms," he states, making Gregory choke on his tea.

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

@babypink224221 @Booknerdlife @djsporks @lght-roastcoffee @marii-ren @mythical-goth @omgsuperstarg @creepytoes88 @sarahskywalker-amidala

[nebulablakemurphy]

Moves & Countermoves (Part 16)

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing.

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

It is cold and dark, woken from a peaceful slumber to run. Everyone around them is yelling, it’s always scary when grown ups yell.

They are scrambling now, tripping over each other in haste, to get to the woods. A place they’ve been forbidden to go.

“Come on, baby. Keep up.” His aunt insists, in a voice that sounds so like his mother’s. His mother.

“What about my mom and dad?” Everest asks.

“We’ll see them soon.” Madge tells him.

The sky opens and rains fire.

“You said we had an hour.” Gale shouts, over the commotion.

“They must’ve launched the fleet out of district eleven.” Everest’s grandfather calls back. “Get to the woods.”

He is a quiet man. Even tempered, he does not yell; yet he is yelling.

“Dad!” Aunt Madge tries to catch him, but her hands are full.

Full of Arista and me.

“Captain goes down with the ship.” He is gone, lost in the smoke, never to return. A debt paid for the lives he saved.

“No!” Everest wants to go back. Run to him, change it, but he can’t. Someone is holding him still, shaking his shoulders.

“Everest.”

His mother. But she isn’t here. She couldn’t be.

“Shh, shh.”

Mom. The boy startles awake, in their new living quarters of district thirteen. Just a dream.

The baby is crying, he must have woken her too.

Still his mother is there, rocking him gently, smoothing down his hair. “I’m here, you’re safe.”

Everest clings to her, watching as she uses a foot to push the bassinet from side to side. Quieting his littlest sister.

Daisy May.

A child wrought into the world through his mother’s blood, sweat and tears. She cries like it pains her to be separated from the woman who’s given her life and he does not blame her.

“Here, you can come lay with me.” Y/N offers, it is hard to be in two places at once.

Everest climbs into her bed, the spot left vacant by his father. The doctors are trying to make him comfortable, while his body adjusts to the lack of alcohol.

To the victors go the spoils.

————————————————————————

Morning comes much too early, signified by the shifting brightness of lights, rather than the sun.

Everest and Arista leave with Madge for school. There aren’t many children here in thirteen, most teachers have been made useful elsewhere.

This is one of the few things she has allowed, over their three weeks underground, hoping it will help the children acclimate.

Y/N sets her daughter down, in the makeshift bassinet, causing the infant to wail in protest.

“Just for a minute, just for a minute.” She’s coos, pulling on her jumpsuit as fast as she can. Even showering has proven difficult without the extra set of hands. Without Haymitch.

“Civilian Abernathy.” One of the guards call from outside the door.

“She’s fine.” Y/N assures him, finishing up the last of her buttons and tossing the baby sling over her head. Reaching down for the infant, she situates her gently. The silence is instant.

“Happy to hear it. Your presence is requested by President Coin.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. If it’s not one president it’s another. She opens the door to find the same man who’s been keeping an eye on her since arrival. “It’s not on my schedule.” She holds out her forearm, showcasing the printed timesheet.

“Your schedule will be revised to compensate the time.”

“Perfect.” Y/N forces a smile. “Any idea what this is about?” She follows him down to the elevator.

“I’m just here to escort you.” He draws the large metal doors closed around them.

“Ever had anybody jump?” They must be thirty stories up.

The soldier shifts. “Are you thinking about it?”

“No,” she shrugs, “just making conversation.”

They reach their destination and the gates plunk open, “charming.”

The rest of their trek is silent. He opens the door and then closes her inside to stand watch. Leaving her to the wolves.

“Y/N, thank you for meeting with me.” Alma Coin says, seated at the long rectangular table. “Please, have a seat.”

“She likes it better when I stand.” Y/N says, patting the child on her chest as she approaches the table.

“Of course.” Coin nods, “you look well.”

“I’m weller than I was when I got here.” Unconscious and hemorrhaging from birth complications.

Plutarch smiles. Hello again.

“I was glad to hear that you’ve received a clear bill of health from our medical team.” Coin runs the tip of her pen over paper as she speaks.

“So the therapist you have me meeting with is just for fun?” Y/N cocks her head to the side.

“For anyone to endure the level of psychological abuse that you have seen and still persevere…you are an inspiration to us all.”

Y/N swallows hard. What do you want?

“Even still, we feel it’s beneficial for you to continue your sessions with Dr. Aurelius.”

“Any word on extracting the victors being held in the Capitol?” Peeta. Johanna. Annie.

“Rest assured, we are working around the clock to find a safe and effective way to liberate the other victors.”

Y/N nods, bouncing lightly from one foot to the other.

“I hear Haymitch is nearing the end of his withdrawal process and will be assimilated into the general population in the next few days.” Coin continues.

Another nod.

“I understand how delicate this subject may be for you, but if you’d like to keep separate quarters-”

“Why would I do that?” Y/N demands.

Plutarch clears his throat. Alma Coin is about to step over the line and finally understand why Snow kept such tight reins on his Capitol darling.

“Given your history.”

“History?”

“This can be a fresh start for the both of you.” Coin replies, softly. “Dissolve the marriage, with custody arrangements for the children.”

“I don’t want to dissolve my marriage.” Maybe there was some version of her that did. A casualty of war, buried long before his babies grew inside her.

“This is all you’ve known since you were nineteen. I can see how the idea of leaving would be intimidating.”

“You don’t know half the hell I’ve been through, or what Haymitch had to do for me to be standing in this room today. If you did, you wouldn’t be insinuate that this ‘arrangement’ is something I want.” Y/N’s chest heaves, anger boiling in her veins.

“Forgive me.” President Coin concedes, “I didn’t mean to offend you, it was only an offer.”

“I appreciate the thought, but it won’t be necessary. If that’s all-”

“There is one more thing,” Alma is not yet finished, “in regards to Katniss.”

Leave her alone. “Katniss needs more time.”

The president steeples her hands. “I wish we had that to offer, unfortunately the revolution has grown stagnant. We need to fuel this fire, otherwise we might be waiting another seventy-five years.”

“What do you want her to do?”

Now Plutarch takes the floor. “We’d like to shoot a series of propaganda, I like to call them propos. Ideally, we would use you and Katniss in tandem. The districts will follow Katniss, but the Capitol will follow you.”

We would use you. “Can I talk to her first?”

“Please do.” This is a clear dismissal.

————————————————————————

“Sorry I’m late.” Y/N is all but panting when she reaches her husband. Past the rooms harboring Cashmere, Finnick, Katniss and the other patients of thirteen.

He stops bouncing the muted green ball off the wall, catching it in hand. There’s not much to do down here, especially in what feels like solitary confinement. The good doctors are all concerned with his fine motor skills. Haymitch simply tells them, ‘they’re fine.’ Somehow they don’t find this funny.

He gives his wife a tired grin. “Word is, you got stuck in a meeting with Coin…anything new on Peeta?”

“No,” Y/N sighs, “she called me in to tell me about her master plan with Plutarch.”

“Ah,” Haymitch chortles, “do tell.”

“They wanna use Katniss to appeal to the districts and use me to rally support in the Capitol.” She plops, unceremoniously, onto his bed, shoes and all. Removing the baby from her carrier when she begins to fuss.

Thirteen’s jumpsuits are nothing to write home about, but easy enough to open and nurse at a moment’s notice.

“I can think of a few reasons as to why it won’t work.” Haymitch sits at the foot of his mattress.

“Lay it on me.”

“First of all, Katniss can’t act. Not to save her life.”

Y/N lifts a shoulder, “maybe she’ll do better with practice.”

“I think it’ll be harder than they’re expecting. Especially now, without-” Peeta.

“Yeah,” Y/N looks away.

“What else is wrong?” He knocks her knee.

“Coin offered to dissolve our marriage.”

Haymitch shifts, “and what did you say?”

“I told her to fuck herself.” Y/N says, with a hand over Daisy’s ear. “Nicely.”

At this he smiles, “good. I’m glad we’re both in agreement.”

Y/N reaches for his hand. “You look really good today, Haymitch.” Healthy. No longer trembling or in pain, from lack of alcohol.

“You too.” This separation thing is brutal. They’ve never been apart like this since before they were married.

Y/N can’t run down, at any hour after a nightmare, to crawl into his bed. Same way she couldn’t sit by his bedside and comfort him, when he needed it most, because their children needed her.

“Don’t do that,” he chides.

“Do what?”

“Don’t cry. Don’t.” He moves in closer, putting an arm around her, with Daisy nursing between them.

“I just miss you.” I wanna be with you.

Haymitch inhales, deeply. “When I get outta here, I’m gonna be so far up your ass-” This earns him a laugh, so he keeps going. “You’re going to be sick of me.” I wanna be with you too.

————————————————————————-

“Katniss.” She is in the same place Y/N left her. Alone in her room, with her mind out to sea.

The girl says nothing, acknowledging Y/N with a glance as she rolls Peeta’s pearl between her fingers.

“I was hoping we could talk.”

Katniss pauses to consider. “I stayed with you.”

“Hmm?”

“I stayed with you and slept in that stupid chair by your bed for three days, before they made me leave.”

“Katniss.”

“They took Haymitch first, when his headaches got too bad. Madge took the baby and it was just us.” Katniss recounts, “I thought you were gonna die.”

Y/N runs a hand over her dark hair, loose from its braid.

“Then you got up and kept on living, like nothing happened. Like Haymitch wasn’t drying out in some facility, like the bombs never went off, like the games never happened and Peeta isn’t gone.” Katniss says, “but I’m not like you, I can’t do that.”

I hope you don’t end up like me, Katniss. “Can I show you something?”

Katniss nods.

“This is a trick somebody taught me a long time ago. I think it might help.” Y/N holds out a hand.

Katniss mirrors her.

“I feel everything right in my chest. All my pain, worry, anger; it always starts right there.” She gently rests her hand over her heart, just above where her child sleeps, content in her sling.

Katniss follows, placing a hand on her own stomach.

“I just hold it there and think.”

“Think about what?”

“What I’m going to do with those feelings. Sometimes all I can do is feel them. Other times I can channel them into something else, something good.”

“Haymitch taught you that, didn’t he?”

‘That’s where it hurts, huh? Right here?’ Haymitch rubs at the ache in her chest.

That was a lifetime ago. “He did.”

Katniss allows her hand to fall away. “I can’t forgive him.” Not yet, maybe not ever.

“I’m not asking you to.”

This stuns Katniss, eyes wide, searching.

“I do want you to remember that he cares about you and he cares about Peeta. Leaving him behind isn’t something he wanted. It was a choice we had to make; the Capitol fleet was within firing distance. We took a hit and we still circled back, but Peeta and Johanna were already gone.”

“I didn’t know.”

“How could you know?” Y/N replies, ruefully. I wasn’t here to tell you.

Katniss blinks at her.

“I had a meeting today, with Plutarch and President Coin.”

“What did they want?”

“They wanna use us, namely you, to fuel the revolution.” Y/N cuts to the chase, “I’m no stranger to being used, but I have found that if you play your cards right, it can be mutually beneficial.”

“Beneficial how?” She wonders.

“Help us get Peeta back and take down Snow.”

————————————————————————

“It’s been a week since our last session. Any changes? Anything specific you’d like to talk about?”

Y/N sinks back into the chair. “My son’s been having nightmares.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Dr. Aurelius jots this down. “About anything in particular?”

“The bombs, district twelve, losing his grandfather.” My dad.

“This was your father, correct.”

“Yes.”

“And what about your husband’s family?”

“They were killed before I met him.”

“Killed?” This is news.

Y/N nods, “Snow had them killed as a punishment for how Haymitch won his games.”

“That must have been hard.”

“That’s not my story to tell.”

“Tell me your story.” The doctor crosses one leg over the other.

“Which one?” Y/N picks at the bed of her thumbnail.

“The real one, if you feel so inclined.”

“I’ve never told anyone.” Not even people I’ve known for years.

“There’s a first time for everything.”

“I don’t even know how to tell it.”

“Try.” He says simply.

“Well, I was born in district twelve, to my mother and father. My dad was the mayor and my mom…” My mom- “they both grew up in town.”

“What does that mean?” There is an implication he doesn’t understand.

“In district twelve,” which doesn’t exist anymore, “only the merchant families live in town.”

“They’re wealthy?” He deduces.

“By comparison.” Nothing like a victor’s salary.

“To what?”

“People from the Seam.” Y/N explains, “where Haymitch grew up.”

“I see.”

“The first few years, I was close with my mom’s sister, her name was Maysilee.”

“Was she lost in the bombing as well?”

“No.”

“How did she pass?”

Don’t you watch the games down here? “In the Quarter Quell, same year Haymitch won.”

“Did he kill her?”

“Come on, doc, the story’s not that twisted.” Y/N shakes her head. “They were allies.”

Part 17

Series Taglist: @praline357 @flowercrowns-goodvibes @justheretoparty420 @avocadotoastwithegg @treehouse-mouse @emo-markie @spilled-mi1k @magical-spit @greaser9902 @jessicamellarky @yourebuckingkiddingme @smuha2004 @sendhelplease @ninimackbrews @wittiestrain184 @r1dd1kulus @erenluvr69 @helpimhyperfixating @jackierose902109 @jellybear455 @dreammgc @dadbodfanatic-x @ftdtcmlovr @inky-sun @ms-brek-ker @undercover55655 @mischiefmanaged21

[natlacentral]

Avatar: The Last Airbender Season 2 Officially Kicks Off Production

The war against the Fire Nation is far from over. Back in March, Netflix announced that Avatar: The Last Airbender has been renewed for Seasons 2 and 3, which will conclude this epic story. Now that process commences: production has begun on Season 2 — and Toph has been cast.

“We’re looking forward to working with all of our actors again and digging into the deeper, more complicated relationships that develop as their journey continues in Season 2,” executive producers Christine Boylan and Jabbar Raisani tell Tudum. “We are going to show the real-world versions of iconic scenes from the original, and explore some of the stories that the animation didn’t. Mainly — we’re looking forward to seeing our gang all together again.”

Keep reading below to find out everything you need to know about the second season of Avatar: The Last Airbender.

What is Avatar: The Last Airbender Season 2 about?

The EPs are keeping details about Season 2 close to the vest, but they did tease that we will see more of the Earth Kingdom. 

“There’s no war in Ba Sing Se,” they explain, referencing a line from the original animated series. “For the Gaang, fans can expect more brilliant plans from Sokka [Ian Ousley], even more masterful bending from Katara [Kiawentiio], Appa and Momo to be as fluffy as ever, and Aang [Gordon Cormier] to learn a new bending form (or two).”

In general, Raisani and Boylan are excited about building on the strong foundation of Season 1. “We’re going to challenge our characters with more complex and nuanced obstacles as they navigate a more tactile world,” they continue. say Boylan and Raisani. “Just as the animated series matured and progressed, the live- action will also take these characters and worlds and grow them.” 

But with a new season comes the opportunity for fresh faces.

What new characters will be introduced in Season 2?

At Netflix’s Geeked Week 2024, it was announced that Miya Cech will join the cast as Toph, a master earthbender.

What happened in Avatar: The Last Airbender Season 1?

A live-action reimagining of the acclaimed Nickelodeon animated series, Avatar: The Last Airbender follows Aang, a young boy who’s the titular Avatar –– which means he’s the only one capable of mastering all four elements (air, water, fire, and earth). In Season 1, Aang wakes up after a 100-year slumber to discover he’s the only surviving Aairbender. The world is being threatened by the imperialistic Fire Nation, which wiped out every other airbender and is working to subjugate the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes. With the help of his newfound friends Katara, a waterbender, and her brother Sokka, Aang sets off on a journey to restore balance to this fractured world. 

Aang and his companions achieve a Pyrrhic victory in the Season 1 finale. Sure, they were able to stop the Fire Nation — led by Prince Zuko (Dallas Liu), his uncle Iroh (Paul Sun-Hyung Lee), and Commander Zhao (Ken Leung) — from destroying the Northern Water Tribe, but it was merely a distraction from the larger war. Miles away, Zuko’s sister, Princess Azula (Elizabeth Yu), conquered Omashu, one of the two Earth Kingdom cities that had managed to stave off the Fire Nation until now, and took King Bumi (Utkarsh Ambudkar) prisoner. As if that wasn’t devastating enough, a mid-credit scene reveals that Sozin’s Comet, a rare cosmic event, is on the horizon, which can’t mean anything good for our heroes.

“I thought it was really clever of the writers to end Season 1 in that way, because you want to get a sense that the universe of the show is expanding with every season,” Daniel Dae Kim, who plays Zuko and Azula’s ruthless father, Fire Lord Ozai, told Tudum in February. “And they really did a good job of that with that cliff-hanger and also created a sense of urgency and time.” 

“Always leave the audience wanting more,” Lee added. “I just had chills seeing Lizzy as Azula. You’ve got King Bumi in shackles, and it’s just like, ‘Oh, there’s so many cliff-hangers.’ I was like, ‘Oh, I want to shoot Season 2, 3 right now.’ ” 

Thankfully, he’s getting his wish. 

Keep checking back here for more information about what’s to come for the Aang gang. In the meantime, you can watch the cast’s adorable audition tapes below. 

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

New Video: Slumbering Sun Shares Trippy 120 Minutes MTV-era VIsual for "Liminal Bridges"

New Video: Slumbering Sun Shares Trippy 120 Minutes MTV-era VIsual for "Liminal Bridges" @usthemgroup

Austin-based doom metal outfit Slumbering Sun — Monte Luna’s James Clarke (vocals), Destroyer of Light’s Keegan Kjeldsen (guitar), Temptress‘ Kelsey Wilson (guitar), Monte Luna‘s and Scorpion Child‘s Garth Condit (bass) and Destroyer of Light’s Penny Turner (drums) — is an All-Star band featuring acclaimed members of Texas’ underground metal scene.  After the breakup of their previous band,…

[shiyorin]

Hello👋 I hope you're doing well) if the requests are still open, can you write something for the Emperor of Mankind? 🤭 A soft Yandere with the reader psyker eternal. He does not like when anyone other than Malcador and the Custodians communicate with her, even the primarchs saw her only fleetingly at celebrations. But the reader is completely satisfied with everything. She can do her favorite things and not worry about anything. Dream🥰

The description of the Emperor here is quite vague because I like the way he is portrayed through others's POV. But here we are.

You gazed into the dying embers of the fire, listening to the familiar sounds of your chamber settling into nightly slumber around you. Another day had drawn to a close within the confines of the Imperial Palace, but not for you.

Not yet.

You rose and drifted to the window, looking out upon the sprawling expanse of the Terra below. Lights in thousands of windows flickered like distant stars, whole hive districts darkened as the citizens within their live. All throughout the realm, lives wound down in preparation for the coming dawn.

All except you, it seemed. Not until he came.

As always, your thoughts turned inevitably to him. The gilded cage he had granted you so long ago, this place that served now as your one and onlyhome, however grand. A sanctuary from the cruel outside world, and yet, a prison nonetheless.

His sanctuary. His prison. His… everything.

Always he came to you here at night's deepest hour, even his Custodes can't come here. When the shadows within shadows held dominion and privacy was assured. That was when he would emerge like a wraith to steal what moments he could find in your company, before withdrawing back into the places from whence he came.

The routine had repeated for centuries unchanging. Long ago you had ceased to question its purpose or meaning. It simply was as immutable. Their tryst formed one more link in the chain binding your existence to his in servitude.

Tomorrow, as always, you would see him withdraw once more into isolation, leaving you to continue existing at the periphery, useful, beloved, and ultimately powerless. Another day would pass, and another, each one leading you gradually further from the life you had known outside these walls. From the dreams, ambitions, and connections of your former self.

Until at last even memory itself began to fade like mist beneath the dawn. Only he remained, constant as the Star to guide you remaining years. Your Emperor. Your Master of Mankind. Your God.

His coming disrupted your musings, as inevitable as the tides. You sensed the stirring in the aether that preceded his physical arrival, the subtle bending of probabilities and skein of fate. A shiver traced its way down your spine in premonition.

Turning, you beheld him emerging from a fold in reality itself. Golden light spilled through the rent as he stepped free, severing the passageway behind with a negligent wave. Clad as ever in gold, eyes gleaming like twin suns beneath his ornate armor, he commanded the room utterly.

A god made from a human. Destined to rule all, whether worshipped or reviled. Yours, eternally.

"My dearest." His voice enfolded you, smooth as fine wine yet bearing weight of aeons. "You await me still."

A statement, not a question. He knew as well as you the path each night would take, the steps they must dance through countless repetitions. And the ritual brought them comfort, as all such familiar routines do in a chaotic universe.

You inclined your head. "Always, my lord."

Crossing to your side, he lifted a hand to cradle your cheek, a lover's caress from one who spurned all other connection or weakness. For him there was only duty. Only for you.

You leaned into his touch with a soft sigh, closing your eyes the better to engrave this fleeting instant of intimacy upon your memories. Savoring each sensation as though it were their last, though repetition had dulled the keen edge of uncertainty long ago.

Your Emperor. Your constant. Your prison. Your everything.

[usagiumiko3]

hey guys🌌💕 i’ve been diving into emily brontë’s "the night is darkening round me" and while reading I made some connections between some poems and the lnds characters. here are some of my picks that I think resonate the best.

☆ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂✦ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

» the prisoner «

in the dungeon-crypts, idly did i stray,

reckless of the lives wasting there away;

'draw the ponderous bars! open, warder stern!'

he dared not say me nay - the hingers harshly turn.

'our guests are darkly lodged,' i whisper'd, gazing through

the vault, whose grated eye showed heaven more grey than blue;

(this was when glad spring laughed in awaking pride;)

'aye, darkly lodged enough!' returned my sullen guide.

then, god forgive my youth; forgive my careless tongue;

i scoffed, as chill chains on the damp flag-stones rung:

'confined in triple walls, art thou so much to fear,

that we must bind thee down and clench thy fetters here?'

the captive raised her face, it was as soft and mild

as sculptured marble saint, or slumbering unwean'd child;

it was so soft and mild, it was so sweet and fair,

pain could not trace a line, nor grief a shadow there!

the captive raised her hand and pressed it to her brow;

'i have been struck,' she said, 'and i am suffering now;

yet these are little worth, your bolts and irons strong,

and, were they forged in steel, they could not hold me long.'

hoarse laughed the jailer grim: 'shall i be won to hear;

dost think, fond, dreaming wretch, that i shall grant thy prayer?

or, better still, wilt melt my master's heart with groans?

ah! sooner might the sun thaw down these granite stones.

'my master's voice is low, his aspect bland and kind,

but hard as hardest flint, the soul that lurks behind;

and i am rough and rude, yet not more rough to see

than is the hidden ghost that has its home in me.'

about her lips there played a smile of almost scorn,

'my friend,' she gently said, 'you have not heard me mourn;

when you my kindred's lives, my lost life, can restore,

then may i weep and sue, - but never, friend, before!

(.....)

'oh, dreadful is the check - intense the agony -

when the ear begins to hear, and the eye begins to see;

when the pulse begins to throb, the brain to think again,

the soul to feel the flesh, and the flesh to feel the chain.

'yet i would lose no sting, would wish no torture less,

the more that anguish racks, the earlier it will bless;

and robed in fires of hell, or bright with heavenly shine,

if it but herald death, the vision is divine!'

she ceased to speak, and we, unanswering, turned to go -

we had no further power to work the captive woe:

her cheek, her gleaming eye, declared that man had given

a sentence, unapproved, and overruled by heaven.

» ‘no coward soul is mine’ «

no coward soul is mine

no trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere

i see heaven's glories shine

and faith shines equal arming me from fear

o god within my breast

almighty ever-present deity

life, that in me hast rest

as i undying life, have power in thee

vain are the thousand creeds

that move men's hearts, unutterably vain,

worthless as withered weeds

or idlest froth amid the boundless main

to waken doubt in one

holding so fast by thy infinity

so surely anchored on

the steadfast rock of immortality

with wide-embracing love

thy spirit animates eternal years

pervades and broods above,

changes, sustains, dissolves, creates and rears

though earth and moon were gone

and suns and universes ceased to be

and thou wert left alone

every existence would exist in thee

there is not room for death

nor atom that his might could render void

since thou art being and breath

and what thou art may never be destroyed

☆ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂✦ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

» remembrance «

cold in the earth - and the deep snow piled above thee,

far, far, removed, cold in the dreary grave!

have i forgot, my only love, to love thee,

severed at last by time's all-severing wave?

now, when alone, do my thoughts no longer hover

over the mountains, on that northern shore,

resting their wings where heath and fern-leaves cover

thy noble heart for ever, ever more?

cold in the earth - and fifteen wild decembers,

from those brown hills, have melted into spring:

faithful, indeed, is the spirit that remembers

after such years of change and suffering!

sweet love of youth, forgive, if i forget thee,

while the world's tide is bearing me along;

other desires and other hopes beset me,

hopes which obscure, but cannot do thee wrong!

no later light has lightened up my heaven,

no second morn has ever shone for me;

all my life's bliss from thy dear life was given,

all my life's bliss is in the grave with thee.

but, when the days of golden dreams had perished,

and even despair was powerless to destroy;

then did i learn how existence could be cherished,

strengthened, and fed without the aid of joy.

then did i check the tears of useless passion -

weaned my young soul from yearning after thine;

sternly denied its burning wish to hasten

down to that tomb already more than mine.

and, even yet, i dare not let it languish,

dare not indulge in memory's rapturous pain;

once drinking deep of that divinest anguish,

how could i seek the empty world again?

☆ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂✦ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

» stars «

ah! why, because the dazzling sun

restored our earth to joy,

have you departed, every one,

and left a desert sky?

all through the night, your glorious eyes

were gazing down in mine,

and with a full heart's thankful sighs,

i blessed that watch divine.

i was at peace, and drank your beams

as they were life to me;

and revelled in my changeful dreams,

like petrel on the sea.

thought followed thought, star followed star,

through boundless regions, on;

while one sweet influence, near and far,

thrilled through, and proved us one!

why did the morning dawn to break

so great, so pure, a spell;

and scorch with fire, the tranquil cheek,

where your cool radiance fell?

blood-red, he rose, and, arrow-straight,

his fierce beams struck my brow;

the soul of nature, sprang, elate,

but mine sank sad and low!

my lids closed down, yet through their veil,

i saw him, blazing, still,

and steep in gold the misty dale,

and flash upon the hill.

i turned me to the pillow, then,

to call back night, and see

your worlds of solemn light, again,

throb with my heart, and me!

it would not do - the pillow glowed,

and glowed both roof and floor;

and birds sang loudly in the wood,

and fresh winds shook the door;

the curtains waved, the wakened flies

were murmuring round my room,

imprisoned there, till i should rise,

and give them leave to roam.

oh, stars, and dreams, and gentle night;

oh, night and stars return!

and hide me from the hostile light,

that does not warm, but burn;

that drains the blood of suffering men;

drinks tears, instead of dew;

let me sleep through his blinding reign,

and only wake with you!

☆ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂✦ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

» anticipation «

how beautiful the earth is still,

to thee - how full of happiness!

how little fraught with real ill,

or unreal phantoms of distress!

how spring can bring thee glory, yet,

and summer win thee to forget

december's sullen time!

why dost thou hold the treasure fast,

of youth's delight, when youth is past,

and thou art near thy prime?

when those who were thy own compeers,

equals in fortune and in years,

have seen their morning melt in tears,

to clouded, smileless day;

blest, had they died untried and young,

before their hearts went wandering wrong,

poor slaves, subdued by passions strong,

a weak and helpless prey!

‘because, i hoped while they enjoyed,

and, by fulfilment, hope destroyed;

as children hope, with trustful breast,

i waited bliss - and cherished rest.

a thoughtful spirit taught me, soon,

that we must long till life be done;

that every phase of earthly joy

must always fade, and always cloy:

‘this i foresaw - and would not chase

the fleeting treacheries;

but, with firm foot and tranquil face,

held backward from that tempting race,

gazed o'er the sands the waves efface,

to the enduring seas -

there cast my anchor of desire

deep in unknown eternity;

nor ever let my spirit tire,

with looking for what is to be!

'it is hope's spell that glorifies,

like youth, to my maturer eyes,

all nature's million mysteries,

the fearful and the fair -

hope soothes me in the griefs i know;

she lulls my pain for others' woe,

and makes me strong to undergo

what i am born to bear.

'glad comforter! will i not brave,

unawed, the darkness of the grave?

nay, smile to hear death's billows rave -

sustained, my guide, by thee?

the more unjust seems present fate,

the more my spirit swells elate,

strong, in thy strength, to anticipate

rewarding destiny!'

» self-interrogation «

(….)

‘time stands before the door of death,

upbraiding bitterly;

and conscience, with exhaustless breath,

pours black reproach on me:

‘and though i've said that conscience lies,

and time should fate condemn;

still, sad repentance clouds my eyes,

and makes me yield to them!'

‘then art thou glad to seek repose?

art glad to leave the sea,

and anchor all thy weary woes

in calm eternity?

'nothing regrets to see thee go -

not one voice sobs "farewell",

and where thy heart has suffered so,

canst thou desire to dwell?'

‘alas! the countless links are strong

that bind us to our clay;

the loving spirit lingers long,

and would not pass away!

☆ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂✦ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

» ‘the night is darkening round me’ «

the night is darkening round me

the wild winds coldly blow

but a tyrant spell has bound me

and i cannot cannot go

the giant trees are bending

their bare boughs weighed with snow and

the storm is fast descending

and yet i cannot go

clouds beyond clouds above me

wastes beyond wastes below

but nothing drear can move me

i will not cannot go

- - -

i'll come when thou art saddest

laid alone in the darkened room

when the mad day's mirth has vanished

and the smile of joy is banished

from evening's chilly gloom

i'll come when the heart's [real feeling

has entire unbiased sway

and my influence o'er thee stealing

grief deepening joy congealing

shall bear thy soul away

listen 'tis just the hour

the awful time for thee

dost thou not feel upon thy soul

a flood of strange sensations roll

forerunners of a sterner power

heralds of me

- - -

i would have touched the heavenly key

that spoke alike of bliss and thee

i would have woke the entrancing song

but its words died upon my tongue

and then i knew that hallowed strain

could never speak of joy again

and then i felt

☆ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂✦ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

» death «

death! that struck when i was most confiding

in my certain faith of joy to be -

strike again, time's withered branch dividing

from the fresh root of eternity!

leaves, upon time's branch, were growing brightly,

full of sap, and full of silver dew;

birds beneath its shelter gathered nightly;

daily round its flowers the wild bees flew.

sorrow passed, and plucked the golden blossom;

guilt stripped off the foliage in its pride;

but, within its parent's kindly bosom,

flowed for ever life's restoring tide.

little mourned i for the parted gladness,

for the vacant nest and silent song -

hope was there, and laughed me out of sadness;

whispering, 'winter will not linger long!'

and, behold! with tenfold increase blessing,

spring adorned the beauty-burdened spray;

wind and rain and fervent heat, caressing,

lavished glory on that second may!

high it rose - no winged grief could sweep it;

sin was scared to distance with its shine;

love, and its own life, had power to keep it

from all wrong - from every blight but thine!

cruel death! the young leaves droop and languish;

evening's gentle air may still restore -

no! the morning sunshine mocks my anguish -

time, for me, must never blossom more!

strike it down, that other boughs may flourish

where that perished sapling used to be;

thus, at least, its mouldering corpse will nourish

that from which it sprung - eternity.

☆ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂✦ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

» faith and despondency «

‘the winter wind is loud and wild,

come close to me, my darling child;

forsake thy books, and mateless play;

and, while the night is gathering grey,

we'll talk its pensive hours away; -

‘iernë, round our sheltered hall

november's gusts unheeded call;

not one faint breath can enter here

enough to wave my daughter's hair,

and i am glad to watch the blaze

glance from her eyes, with mimic rays;

to feel her cheek so softly pressed,

in happy quiet on my breast.

‘but, yet, even this tranquillity

brings bitter, restless thoughts to me;

and, in the red fire's cheerful glow,

i think of deep glens, blocked with snow;

i dream of moor, and misty hill,

where evening closes dark and chill;

for, lone, among the mountains cold,

lie those that i have loved of old.

and my heart aches, in hopeless pain

exhausted with repinings vain,

that i shall greet them ne'er again!'

» honour's martyr «

the moon is full this winter night;

the stars are clear, though few;

and every window glistens bright,

with leaves of frozen dew.

the sweet moon through your lattice gleams

and lights your room like day;

and there you pass, in happy dreams,

the peaceful hours away!

while i, with effort hardly quelling

the anguish in my breast,

wander about the silent dwelling,

and cannot think of rest.

the old clock in the gloomy hall

ticks on, from hour to hour;

and every time its measured call

seems lingering slow and slower:

and oh, how slow that keen-eyed star

has tracked the chilly grey!

what, watching yet! how very far

the morning lies away!

without your chamber door i stand;

love, are you slumbering still?

my cold heart, underneath my hand,

has almost ceased to thrill.

bleak, bleak the east wind sobs and sighs,

and drowns the turret bell,

whose sad note, undistinguished, dies

unheard, like my farewell!

tomorrow, scorn will blight my name,

and hate will trample me,

will load me with a coward's shame -

a traitor's perjury.

☆ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂✦ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

» the old stoic «

riches i hold in light esteem;

and love i laugh to scorn;

and lust of fame was but a dream

that vanished with the morn:

and if i pray, the only prayer

that moves my lips for me

is, 'leave the heart that now i bear,

and give me liberty!'

yes, as my swift days near their goal,

‘tis all that i implore;

in life and death, a chainless soul,

with courage to endure.

» self-interrogation «

(….)

‘and rest is sweet, when laurelled fame

will crown the soldier's crest;

but, a brave heart, with a tarnished name,

would rather fight than rest.'

'well, thou hast fought for many a year,

hast fought thy whole life through,

hast humbled falsehood, trampled fear;

what is there left to do?'

‘tis true, this arm has hotly striven,

has dared what few would dare;

much have i done, and freely given,

but little learnt to bear!’

[madhatterbri]

Parent Trap | Finn Balor Part 2

Summary: How about a part 2 of Gracie telling reader what Demon said about Becky being her real Mom. I need to know what the reader does.

Parent Trap Part 1

Finn Balor Masterlist

Requested by: @terrortwinunicorn

Taglist: @theworldofotps @smallestsnarkestgirl @miss-kuki-nz @new-zealand-chic @magicalbuttertarts

Y/N stormed to the door. She half expected it to be locked. To her surprise, the door opened when she twisted the doorknob. The Demon sat with his arms crossed. His bottom lip pouted. She swore she saw tears in his eyes. All the rage inside of her subsided.

"Are you.... crying?" The concerned woman asked. She didn't even know he could cry. The Demon had been a royal pain in the ass.

"No, I'm not some weak human," he sniffled. The Demon rolled over to his side to face the wall. His body twitched slightly to signal he was still crying. His arms moved to wipe away his tears.

"Why are you crying?"

"I'm not crying. I just have something in my eyes,"

"Demon,"

"She doesn't want to play with me anymore, okay?" The Demon asked. He sat up in his bed and stared at her. More tears fell down his face. The poor thing had never looked so pathetic in her eyes.

Y/N's mouth dropped open in shock. "Demon, she loves you,"

"She is growing up and forgetting about me. Grace used to play with me like that. Now she is always going over to friend's houses or having them here. I.... I miss when it was just her and I," he confessed. His light eyes stared at his hands.

"Demon," Y/N sighed and sat on his bed. He backed away from her. His legs pulled to his chest. Well, at least he still detested her. That would never change. "Why don't the two of you do something fun tonight? We can get your favorites and build a fort in the living room,"

The Demon perked up slightly. "Really?"

"Yes, Finn went to take her out to calm her down after what you did. We can start working on it now," she offered.

The Demon scrunched his face. "I don't need help from a human,"

"Great," she sighed and stood up from the bed. "You know if you are ever sad, you can talk to Finn or I. We can help you,"

"Why would I ever want to ask humans for help?"

Y/N bit back a remark and walked out of the room. She texted Finn about the situation at the house. Her husband decided to buy some treats to help with the slumber party. The Demon was hard at work in the living room. Black blankets in different shapes and sizes filled the room. Different sized pillows were laid out for them to enjoy.

The Demon was finished with his fort in no time. He added all of Grace's favorite things inside. A sign hung up in the entrance read No Humans Grace OK. After he was done with the finishing touches, he supervised Y/N and her cooking.

"She doesn't like the crusts on her peanut butter and jelly," he pointed out.

"Yes, Demon, I know," Y/N spoke.

"And make sure you don't burn the pizza rolls this time. Finn hasn't had time to buy another fire extinguisher," The Demon reminded. Y/N swallowed another insult. He eyed the platter next to him. It had some of their favorites: cheese sticks, pretzels, and ... carrots. His face scrunched at the healthy snack. "Carrots? Who is eating that? It's disgusting,"

"They are there so I can sharpen a side and stab you," she muttered under breath.

The Demon seemingly didn't hear her. "Well, I am going to get ready. Try to not burn the apartment down,"

The Demon left to put on his pajamas. The front door to the apartment opened. Grace came in carrying a box of Capri Sun. Finn carried a couple of bags inside.

"You doing better, sweetheart?" Y/N asked. She noticed some chocolate syrup on the side of her mouth. Finn must have taken her to the ice cream shop after the park.

"What Demon did was mean," she pouted and crossed her arms.

"Yes, Gracie, but he loves you," Y/N reminded. The Demon came out seconds later. "And I think he has something he wants to show you,"

Grace slowly walked towards the Demon. As soon as she saw the fort, her eyes lit up. "Really?"

She ran inside the fort. The doll house was in there along with her tea table set. Grace ran out with a huge smile on her face. She ran and gave him a big hug. "I love it, Demon!"

Y/N swore she saw more tears in his eyes. He blinked them back quickly and cleared his throat. "Go get changed so we can play,"

While Grace was in her room, Finn and Y/N rushed to get everything ready for the slumber party. They placed the food on the tea table for them to snack on. Grace walked out of her room with three of her favorite stuffed animals in tow. She walked inside the entrance to check out more of the inside of the fort.

"Wow, carrots? I love them. Thanks, Mommy!" Grace complimented.

"Yeah, those are my favorite too," the Demon commented.

Finn and Y/N found themselves inside their bedroom. They tried to minimize leaving the room to avoid disturbing the Demon and Grace. At around midnight, the noises in the living room turned to soft snores. Finn and Y/N walked out to investigate.

Inside the fort, Grace was snuggled into the Demon. Her head rested comfortably on his chest. One of the Demon's arms wrapped securely around her body. In the Demon's other hand clutched a picture that Grace drew of them together.

[yohibmbi]

missing spring.⠀

synopsis : ellie’s on a mission & you miss her so very dearly.

tw : toxic ex!abby mention.

Ellie was away. Maria had assigned her on patrol to retrieve supplies from the farthest outpost. Jesse could’ve easily done it but Maris requested Ellie specifically.

The one disadvantage to dating the best of the best in Jackson was everyone’s reliance on her to do the hard work.

Winter's bite greeted the world in the morning. Snow appeared from time to time. Regardless, the sun shone. She was cruel, slinking through the curtains and waking you up at all hours of the night.

You were buried beneath Ellie's blankets. Her bed was always warmer than yours. Most likely because the girl was always with you. She wasn't this time, though. And the cold crept in around the edges, nipping at your fingertips.

Almost e eyes your girlfriend risked her life protecting the community. You never knew what life was like outside the walls, being born and raised in Jackson.

Despite the fact that your parents were well-known patrollers, you never inherited their fighting ability. So it became your responsibility to work with the animals, tending to their every need. And, with spring approaching, there would be newborns for you to care for.

You were so excited.

After the third day, time seemed to slow down, and you grew increasingly irritated with each passing day.

It was stupid that she had to be gone for so long and that it affected you so much.

You cant help it though.

You just wanted your girlfriend.

You were an adult, and not hanging out with people on a daily basis came with the territory. You don't even see your parents as regularly as Ellie.

It’s even gotten so bad that you've only slept at your place twice in the two weeks leading up to your girlfriend's departure, and you've been wearing her clothes since she left.

You missed her terribly.

You hadn't gone more than four days without seeing the brunette since the relationship began.

You couldn't stand it. Not when she smiled so lovingly for you, held you so close, and took such good care of you.

Her love was unlike anything you had ever experienced. It was sincere. Nothing like your ex, who hurled abuse at you whenever you showed any sign of independence in one breath, and then threatened to kill herself if you left her in the next.

Six months later, here you were. Incapable of living without the stubborn girl. How history repeats itself. The sudden reliance terrified you, but the spell had been cast, and you had fallen fast.

To be honest, after the initial fright, you didn't seem to mind. Ellie could be trusted because she was nothing like Abby. She accepted you for who you were and never made you do anything you didn't want to. The relationship was built gradually on your own terms, and for that, you were so grateful.

Her touch carried such passion, that what once was scarred softened. She made you feel as if you were created to be loved.

Loved by her.

You pull the blankets further over your curled body, deciding not to face the world today. They press up against you, and it feels as if Ellie is right next to you.

You sink deeper into the mattress as you sigh into the cool air. Sleep sets in and soon enough you’re out again. Your dreams are filled with memories of your love.

You’re in such a deep sleep, that you don’t notice the door unlocking. Heavy footprints echo through the house, and even a voice calling, doesn’t shake you from your slumber.

Ellie sneaks into her bedroom. The sight of you snuggled in her bed, on her assigned side, instantly warms her frozen body. A fire ignited within her heart. just as it did the first time you told her you loved her.

She notices the cuff of her sweatshirt peeking out from beneath the mountain of blankets as you clutch them tightly. She undresses, tossing her damp clothes absentmindedly before moving on to her winter accessories, needing to feel you close.

The beanie and thick gloves, you made for her, did nothing to keep her warm or prevent her face and hands from turning red.

She swiftly slips into her pyjamas and curls up next to you. She nuzzles her face in your neck and inhales sweetly and her body relaxes into your warmth. Limbs tangle in an awkward embrace, but she doesn’t mind, as sleep creeps behind her eyes.

She’s finally home.

[elliesmainhoe]

Hunted

Abby Anderson X fem!reader

Summary: Although you stopped Abby from killing Joel, Ellie still wants to seek her revenge.

Contents: violence, injuries, scarring, domestic fluff, trauma response, PTSD, guilt, angst, cliffhanger, death mention, death alluded to.

Requested ages ago by my lovely 🍞 anon

You can remember it. The gore, the screaming, the sobbing. An old man- who reminded you of your father laying on the floor as your girlfriend buried a club into his head and his daughter, who reminded you of yourself being pinned down as she watched the life in her father figures eyes begin to drain out.

Abby got two swings in before you finally stopped her. And you regret not stopping her sooner.

Violence wasn't something you were accustomed to. Of course you'd seen it- you grew up in a post-apocalyptic world, with fungal-infected cannibals that was governed by a dictating military.

But to see someone- a human like yourself- be beat to a pulp for protecting his child just felt wrong to you. No matter however many times Abby talked in favour of her father and praised him, you strongly believed that the revenge Abby was seeking would not fill the whole his death left in her heart.

You remember it well, the bloodied man on the floor looking up at you in delirium as you screamed out incoherent words to the blonde that was killing him. Your disruption made everyone stop and look at you, your voice filling throughout the room for two minutes allowing Jesse and Dina to rush into the room and begin shooting.

Guns were fired and people ran, usually Jesse and Dina would have followed after- hunting every last one of them until they were dead, but they were preoccupied on making sure Joel wouldn't bleed out.

You remember that night, you and Abby had broken off from your group and made camp in an abandoned barn for the night. The fire roared, it's flames casting a golden glow onto her fair skin and dirty blonde hair. As Abby cried in your arms, trying desperately to calm down.

"It should- it should feel good" she hiccuped, muttering her voice scratchy "but... I don't... Why don't I feel better?"

You had so much to say. But you just couldn't.

••••••••••••

Joel lived. However, the hits to his head had messed up his mobility, so he was stuck in a wheelchair and had to be pushed around by Ellie and Tommy full time. There was a large scar that split his face in two, one eye was damaged and it's vision was restricted.

And worst of all? He was quiet. So so quiet. He barely ever spoke, he never laughed, he never told Ellie his stupid- stupid dad jokes. Abby may not have physically killed the man, but Joel's spirit was gone.

Ellie hated it, she sat with him daily, helping his trembling hands to shovel spoonfuls of soup into his mouth. She tried desperately, cracking jokes and reminiscing with him and nothing, nothing worked. Joel was gone.

Her dad was gone.

••••••••

Oregon was beautiful, the mountains, the trees, the water. It was perfect for you and Abby to settle down into, and you did. You found a beautiful abandoned cabin hidden thick into the woods, the view was beautiful, the expansive lake and the greenery. Just perfect.

Domesticity was not something you had ever thought about before, but it worked. It worked so so well. Abby enjoyed the physical tasks, her axe chopping skills were rapidly improving, and she loved hunting wild animals. You spent your time taking care of your new addition to the family, a german-shepard you'd named BoBo, among other little chores like cleaning and filtering water by boiling.

It was a beautiful morning, the sun creeped through the closed curtains, waking you and Abby up from your slumber. Her strong arms wrapped around your waist and squeezed your body tightly.

"Good Mornin' love" you whispered into her ear, ignoring the loud snores coming from BoBo who laid sprawled out on the foot of the bed. "Mornin' sugar" Abby groaned nuzzling her face into your neck trying to block out the sun's intrusion.

"we gotta get up baby" you cooed, pulling the stray blonde strands of hair, that had become loose from her braids, behind her ears. "No we don't..." "Yes, yes we do"

You began moving, leaving the warm soft covers behind and making Abby let out another frustrated groan.

The day flew by like any other day usually would, you woke up, went outside and collected fresh eggs your hens had laid, you made two omelettes, and Abby joined next to you filling up two glasses of water and setting the table.

After eating Abby left the cabin, looking at the animal traps she'd laid out the night before, two rabbits and a squirrel 'not bad'.

The sound of sharp barking echoes through the woods- BoBo yapping like mad. Of course Abby had heard the dog bark before- just never ever like this. It was desperate territorial growling and barking.

Something was wrong. Very very wrong.

Abby had never felt her legs move so fast before. Abandoning her catch on the mossy floor of the woods. The wind rushed through her blonde locks as her feet carried her as fast as possible, her breathing heavy but controlled

"Abby" your strained voice whimpered out from behind her as she slowed down, still deep in the woods.

Ellie's left arm was firmly and tightly wrapped around your waist, her other one held a knife to your neck drawing a line of blood as she increased the pressure of the blade against your skin.

"Let her go Ellie-" Abby's voice came out shaky despite all the effort she put into keeping it level. "I don't want to fight you..."

You hiccuped in an attempt to keep your sobs at bay, only causing Ellie to dig the hunting knife into your skin. "You don't have a choice." She grunted, hatred spilling out through the tone of her voice.

"Fine. Just leave her out of this" Abby softened, her shaking hands made a fist to try and cease the shaking and jittering of nervousness or anger? You couldn't tell.

The sudden release of Ellie's tight grip on you caused you to lose your balance. You stumbled before your foot got caught on an overgrown root of a tree making you tumble to the ground with a hiss at the twang of pain from your newly sprained ankle. Great.

Your mind was hazy- you heard the grunts and heavy breathing as the two women fought, but you couldn't bear to watch. Instead you turned your attention to the now whimpering BoBo who settled by your injured ankle, licking it softly in hopes it would ease your pain.

Ellie had ran at Abby, balled fist punching and swinging at the blonde who dodged and avoided her assaults.

"I don't want to hurt you" Abby gritted

"Stop being such a pussy and fucking fight me." Ellie spat, taking out the blade and handling it- begining to try and slash at the muscle of Abby.

Abby's body contorted, moving under Ellie's arm as she tried to swing the knife at her- coming from behind her and shoving her into the bark of one of the oak trees that surrounded the woods clearing.

Her hand manhandled the blade out of Ellie's tattooed hand throwing it on the grassy ground, still damp from the dewy spring morning. "Are we done now?... I'm not going to kill you Ellie."

"Fine. I won't give you a choice." The sound of a click came from behind Ellie's back, her hand pulling out the gun that had been strapped to her holster and pointed towards your sitting frame.

Bang.

---------------

I don't think I like this. But here you go 🍞 nonnie.

Taglist: @aunslie @lonelyfooryouonly @eywaskisses @daryldixonh0e @kittynnie @lovelyyevelyn @randomhoex @moonlightdivine @haerinwho @mufflaa @mial1l @sarahsmileslikesarahd0esntcare @moonlighting87 @escaping-reality8 @magicalfreakcowboylawyer @hejdevkdbdjsd @dergy @half-of-a-gay @ellieismami @cyberlainn @gollumsmygel @sseorii @kyleeservopoulos @taloulalila @ellieluhme @kiiyoooo @delusionalvioleht @joelscharm @hi2647 @gumdropkoo @coffeeandbookskeepmealive @womaniza @namgification @kimiisims-blog @tayyyystan @abigaillovestoread @whoreshores @kylieeluvstlou @knowitsforthebetterr @endureher @erikaar @lanasluverr @sayah13 @ilovebufflesbians @srryhoneyy @222fine444u @jade1212

NOT PROOFREAD

[dedkake]

SGA Fanworks Only Holiday Gift Exchange 2023

A day you won’t forget by scifi_dancer | g, 2.4k, rodney / john

The prompt I used describes it well: "Nothing goes right - until it does."

A Little Christmas Chaos by WonkyElk | t, 3k, rodney / john

The Cheer Committee nodded in solemn and united agreement. In principle, of course, they agreed that ‘absolutely hosed’ was not the ideal state for a large proportion of the expedition to be in, at any one time, Christmas or not; but that didn’t stop them feeling that the punch could do with being just a smidgen merrier. For morale purposes. Which was why each of them, separately, decided to add just the tiniest amount of extra cheer to the punch.

Big enough to miss by Mas_Pebbles_Sharp | t, 3.9k, rodney / john

Missing scenes/coda to The Daedalus Variations: Rodney's injury from alien weapon fire is worse than they at first realised

Elizabeth’s Pet Demon by Tazmy | g, 2.8k, gen

A mini demon ransacks Elizabeth’s quarters. Somehow, it’s cute. It shouldn’t be. It should be wrong, maybe even disturbing.

Finding Limits by halestrom | g, 3.6k, gen

The only thing John could focus on was getting back to Atlantis, getting a team and finding Rodney before Ford's men did anything. Getting back to Atlantis and finding out that Rodney had rescued himself wasn't a surprise, but sitting and watching his still body as Carson tried to figure out what to do was hard. Not just for John, but for all of AR-1.

First Embrace by Cyber_Witch85 | m, 2.8k, carson / evan, rodney / john, evan / john

John Sheppard and Evan Lorne rescue Rodney and Carson from a wraith lair. Carson and Evan explore the beginnings of their relationship as John and Rodney sleep.

Golden Slumbers by cassiope25 | g, 3.8k, rodney / john, team

“You should put more trust in me,” Ronon told her gently. "There's nothing a former runner can't take on.” Ronon is there to care for his team, and they care for him in turn.

Hand in Hand by mific | e, 4.7k, rodney / john

"Yes, yes, we're the talk of the town," Rodney said, eyeing them narrowly. "Run along now and if you're ever on Cambara don't agree to do the damn welcome ritual." "And if you do," Sheppard panted, "don't come last."

His Rodney by Jade | g, 1.5k, gen

It’s not always easy to remember who he is.

I Can Do Anything Better Than You! by Goddess47 | t, 3k, rodney / john

John, the traitor, had lured him to this so-called 'social event' organized by some self-appointed group of Expedition members. There had been a promise of chocolate cake and John had hinted at the possibility of mutual orgasms at the end of the night.

i waited ‘til i saw the sun by LogicGunn | t, 1k, steven / elizabeth

Elizabeth remembers.

I’ll keep you warm by puddlejumperpilot | g, 2k, rodney / john

The sky was darkening and fluffy snowflakes were falling from the sky as Teyla gave her speech, but John was distracted by Rodney shivering violently next to him. John swore under his breath and took off the outer layer of his jacket, wrapping it around Rodney’s shoulders. “You’re from Canada, aren’t you supposed to be immune to the cold?” He hissed under his breath. Rodney shot him a glare. “You know I get cold easily!” He replied in a whisper. “I also know that you do this every year. I’m beginning to think you just like wearing my jacket. You’re lucky I expected this, otherwise I’d just let you freeze!”

Just Peachy by melagan | t, 1.7k, rodney / john

John and Rodney are married and living on Atlantis. They have a rare day off together, but things aren't working out the way Rodney planned.

Lighter Than Air by spurious | g, 2.6k, rodney / john

Visiting a trading partner, the team participate in a winter solstice ritual that's more effective than it might seem.

Like A Shot To The Shoulder (And Other Adventures on MXR-338) by audioletter | g, 2.8k, gen

As far as welcomes go, being shot in the shoulder was not what John considered polite.

Solace by A_Storm_of_Roses | e, 7.2k, teyla / elizabeth

Elizabeth wakes with the hangover of the century and a throbbing elbow. She can’t remember how she got here, or where here even is, though it feels hard and rocky and smells like burning metal. Elizabeth and Teyla take a very long walk, and discover each other.

the snow has drifted high by dedkake | t, 1.7k, rodney / john

Rodney and John watch the New Year's fireworks together, just like they always do.

Wraith Rodney by carsonsweebabyturtles (Erindors) | fanart

This is my Holiday gift for Cassiope25. I kind of gambled at making him a Wraith but I hope you like it anyways 💜

You can’t pin joy like a moth by QueenIshtar | t, 3.7k, john / elizabeth, carson / rodney

Elizabeth knows that you can't pin joy like a moth. It's too fleeting. Joy is the soft fluttering of wings you notice only in the still, silent moments. It's your heartbeat rushing, racing when you laugh; when you feel alive. Joy is not a complete, tangible thing.

[its-vannah]

Midnight Rain | Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader

A/N: Y'all have no idea how happy I am to finally release this chapter. Although this series is a crossover between Jace x Reader one-shots and Midnights, this one adds in a classic fairytale spin, as it's based off of Sleeping Beauty (the Disney version, we don't condone the original). I hope you guys enjoy reading this one as much as I loved writing it.

Warnings: Mentions of death, fighting, violence

Midnights Masterlist

Just what we wanted, just what we wanted

Everything had gone to plan. You were tucked away in one of the far eastern towers in Asterthal, forever at rest while your palace was in shambles.

My town was a wasteland

Homes had been burned, the palace ransacked, bodies were left littering the ground.

Full of cages, full of fences

Sites that had once attracted outsiders were now unrecognizable, reduced to ashes. Those who had survived the attack were kept inside cells beneath the palace, waiting for their executions.

And the life I gave away

If you had been awake to see your people now, you would've been devastated. But after one of your friends, who had been working as a spy for the Queen, slipped you a sleeping concoction, you were unable to escape slumber.

But for some, it was paradise

But the Queen was delighted to hear of your capture. The alliance between the eldest Velaryon-Targaryen son, Jacaerys, and the House of Asterthal's eldest daughter would have been unstoppable.

I wanted that pain

She had ordered your execution, but been advised to put you to rest rather than death. Anything more and she'd be tried for treason against a noble house.

Chasing that fame

So, Queen Allicent sat beside the Iron Throne, a goblet of wine in her hand as she toasted to her recent victory. Long live the Queen.

-------------------------------

When the news reached Jacaerys that the House of Asterthal had been attacked, his heart dropped. He feared that it was too late, that your life had already been taken.

All of me changed

But when it was revealed that you were alive, he immediately sought out his mother, searching every hall to find her.

Once he spotted her in her chambers, he fell to his knees before her.

Rhanerya looked down at her soon, concern in her eyes, "I'm afraid you've heard?"

My boy was a montage

"She's alive," He managed to blurt out, clasping his hands together, "Mother, please, I must find her."

She hesitated, "Jacaerys, it could be far too dangerous for you to go to her aid. We must think this through."

"I love her, mother. I wish to marry her," He said between bated breaths, "She's everything I ever wanted—everything I needed."

Rhaenyra bowed her head, thinking back to when she lost the man she loved, "My son, do you understand the dangers you will face on your journey?"

Jace nodded, "I understand and accept the challenges I will face."

"Then you have my support," She said, pulling him into a hug, pressing a kiss to his temple, "I love you, my son, come back to me."

Picture perfect, shiny family

"I will," He promised, before pulling away, "And I'll return with her."

On the ride to Asterthal, memories plagued Jace's mind of when you had met. At the time, he had no idea that you were the woman he was supposed to wed. You were simply a girl taking a stroll through the forest.

"Are you alone?" Jace had asked, pulling his horse on a lead behind him, "It isn't safe out here."

But you merely smiled, "I've been living here my whole life, I understand the dangers."

"You live in the woods?"

Nodding, you continued walking, "My family lives in a cabin farther up the hill. It isn't too bad, really. Just farther away from the town."

'Cause he was sunshine

"Do you need a ride back? The sun is about to set."

Shaking your head, you turned back to face him. It was only then that your beauty struck him. You were gentle, steady, but he knew that there was a fire that lay inside you.

I broke his heart 'cause he was nice

"I was told to never trust a stranger," You replied, "But I thank you for your kindness."

"Then let us not be strangers," He bowed, "Prince Jacaerys Velaryon."

Shocked, you immediately curtsied, "I'm sorry, my prince. I didn't know—please accept my apologies. I hadn't known you were to be in Asterthal."

"It's to discuss arrangements between me and the princess."

He wanted a bride

You tilted your head, "The princess? Why, she's been locked away for years. Since she was a babe. Only when the time is right will she be able to wed."

He sighed, "I'm hoping the time is now. We need Asterthal's support now more than ever, with everything going on."

"Then, I wish you luck, my prince."

"I'll gladly accept it, if you allow me to escort you home. I don't feel right allowing a lady like yourself to go on alone," He said.

You hesitated, unsure, "I wouldn't want to impose upon you."

"It would be my pleasure," Jace said, a reassuring smile on his face, "The Prince's orders."

All of me changed like midnight

You returned his smile, "Then I'll gladly accept your offer."

"It's Y/N," You breathed, "My name, it's Y/N."

He walked beside you up the hill towards your cabin, leading his horse behind him. The two of you talked about everything: your upbringings, ability to relish in the peace and silence of the woods, and even shared stories of yourselves that no one had seen. It was refreshing. But then you arrived at your cottage, and your shoulders suddenly dropped.

"I suppose this is goodbye, my prince."

All the love we unravel

Jace sighed, bowing his head, "I look forward to meeting you again, Lady Y/N."

He was sunshine, I was midnight rain

Drowning, you shook your head, "I'm not sure that's a good idea, my prince. You're betrothed. It wouldn't be becoming of us to see one another again."

He paused for a moment, "I nearly forgot."

You reached out to grab his hand, giving it a small squeeze, "As did I. But there's a stark difference between the world's we're used to. I'm not sure it would be wise for this to continue. I apologize, my prince."

He wanted it comfortable

"It's I who should be apologizing, my Lady," Jace said, "I've become comforted by your presence in this short period of time. I bid you farewell."

With that, pain heavy in his chest, he pressed a kiss to your hand, walking away with a heavy heart.

"I was comfortable, too," You muttered, leaning against the doorframe.

Now, riding on his dragon to Asterthal, Jace couldn't help but smile. From the moment he met you, he knew you were going to have a big meaning in his life.

A slow-motion, love potion

But until he had spoken with the Lord and Lady of Asterthal, he hadn't known that their daughter, Y/N, had been hidden away in a nearby forest. As soon as he heard your name, his heart swelled. He had known it then, and he knew it now: you were the love of his life.

-------------------------------

Dismounting his dragon, Jacaerys fought his way through the knights guarding the entrance to your chambers, his sword impaling and beheading several men who came his way.

Their swords had been held high, but their skill was no match for the young prince and his dragon.

Finally reaching your chamber, he threw the doors open, panting.

Throwing his sword down beside him, Jace kneeled down beside your bed.

Pressing two fingers to the side of your neck, he felt a steady pulse.

Reaching into his satchel and removing an antidote, he held the vile firmly in his hands as he twisted the cork off.

Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he opened your lips and poured the liquid down your throat.

A deep portal, time travel

Waiting for a sign to show that you were awake, it took a few minutes before you stirred, groaning in your sleep.

Your body had to have been sore from the position you had been in the past few days. So when you opened your eyes, meeting Jace's gaze, it didn't take you long to lurch forward, grabbing his collar and pulling him towards you.

Lips moving against each other, you held him close to you until you were both so out of breath that you couldn't help but pull away.

Except on midnights like this (midnights like this)

Resting against your forehead, Jace smiled, "I knew it was you.