#The Wild Series: Lies In The Dark | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wholoveseggs · 6 days ago

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Dark Star {Part One}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part One

{Elijah Mikaelson x f!Reader} Bound by love that defies centuries, Elijah Mikaelson will do whatever it takes to resurrect his lost wife. Even if it means forsaking everything he believes in. Once the north star guiding his family, his shattered heart now leads him down a darker path, transforming him into a version beyond redemption. A damned soul, drawing his family into an abyss they may never escape.

♡♡ Hello my lovely followers! This will be a six part series inspired by @njeancastro316 post about red door Elijah (Girl, I've been writing this non-stop since you tagged me! thank you for the inspo). I really put my whole heart into this one, {I even made a playlist to capture the vibes} exploring the depths of Elijah's character and his struggle between love and darkness. Enjoy! && expect pain... ♡♡

6.8k words - Warnings: angst, angst and more angst, grief, heartbreak, intense violence, red door Elijah, emotional turmoil, so much Mikaelson family drama {the whole gang is here && some faves from Mystic Falls will show up later}, No smut in this part, but prepare for plenty of darkness... oh! && croissants...

{Part Two}{Part Three}{Part Four}{Part Five}{Part Six}

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@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming

@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse

@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2

@itsjulzandmydiamonds @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury

@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28

@sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @sekaishell @b1tchy

@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson

@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer @nina6708 @evasmlp

@madeinmyownmind-blog @lovelyy-moonlight @blacknightrises @poppet05 @sweetieseven

@xoxo-shy @nova-j @decaffeinatedparadisepost @fandom-princess-forevermore

Prologue ~ Europe 13th Century

"This way!" A boy laughed as he darted beneath a low-hanging branch. Behind him, a small girl hurried along, lifting her skirt to keep up, her breath catching in short gasps.

"Slow down! Wait for me!" she called, tripping over roots and brambles in her haste. "I can't run as fast as you!"

The boy glanced back, grinning. "Then hurry, will you."

"We ought to be home by now." She replied, frowning.

"We are almost there," he replied, leaping over a fallen branch before turning to face her, eyes gleaming. "We can get home quicker through the woods."

"I don’t like it," she murmured, clutching her skirt tighter. Shadows crept over the path as the sun sank lower, casting an orange glow through the dense branches. "The hour grows late."

The boy shook his head, catching her hand with a reassuring squeeze. "We’ll be fine. It’s only a short way."

Reluctantly, she nodded, holding onto him. "If anything ill should happen, I’ll tell Mother."

He only laughed, tugging her down the narrow path. "If something ill happens, you may not get the chance!"

Their laughter echoed in the stillness as they raced ahead. The trees grew taller, their branches clawing toward the darkening sky, while thick underbrush crowded the trail, rustling with each step. Yet the children, lost in their game, scarcely noticed, laughing and squealing as they chased one another.

Then, a sound, a subtle, almost a whisper, seeped through the quiet. The girl stopped, clutching the boy’s arm. “Did you hear that?”

“What is it?”

“Shh,” she hissed, pulling him closer, her wide eyes searching the shadows. "Listen."

They stood in silence, the air heavy and still, broken only by their own quickening breaths.

“It’s nothing. Perhaps a deer-”

“No, it’s more than that,” she whispered. Somewhere ahead, faint and distant, came the flicker of firelight. And with it, laughter. Wild and strange.

“What is that?” the boy asked, his voice barely a breath.

“Quiet,” she said, creeping forward, pulling him toward the light.

They peered out from behind a tree, breath catching at the sight before them. A great fire blazed, roaring into the sky as shadows twisted around it. Two figures danced wildly around the flames, naked, their skin smeared with red and ash. Their laughter, sharp and otherworldly, pierced the night air.

The girl’s scream barely escaped her lips before the boy’s hand clamped over her mouth, pulling her back. They stumbled, clutching one another, then turned and fled, racing down the trail as fast as their little legs would carry them, branches clawing at their clothes.

By the time they burst into the village, their faces were pale, their breaths ragged. Villagers gathered around as the children stumbled forward, pointing frantically toward the woods.

“Demons!” the girl gasped, clutching at the skirts of the nearest woman. “They’re out there! In the forest!”

There was a hushed sadness over the compound. The lights seemed to have dimmed, and the atmosphere hung heavy, cold and suffocating. It had been that way since the night Elijah found your lifeless body on the cold pavement. The night that changed everything.

Rebekah didn’t like it here anymore. Her home felt more like a tomb than a residence. It was too quiet, too full of memories and emotions too painful to confront. Her big brother was suffering, and there was nothing she could do to help him.

She found Klaus sitting in the courtyard, staring blankly at a chessboard. The pieces were scattered, mid-game, but his focus seemed to drift in and out. Normally, this contemplative silence from him made her nervous, but today she couldn’t muster the energy to care. The weight of everything was too much.

“Any news?” Rebekah asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Klaus didn’t move, didn’t speak at first. He shifted a chess piece absentmindedly and shrugged.

The sound of Marcel’s footsteps echoed through the stillness of the courtyard. She felt one of his warm hands rest gently on the small of her back, and she leaned into him, drawing comfort from his presence.

“I’ve been asking around. Only lead I have is that he’s somewhere in Europe,” Marcel said, his voice sounding hollow.

“Well, where in Europe?” Klaus finally spoke, his gaze never leaving the board.

“Don’t know. Haven’t pinpointed his exact location yet,” Marcel sighed. “But he’s been killing low-level Strix members, leaving bodies in his wake.”

Klaus scoffed softly, moving another piece on the board. “Keep looking,”

“You almost sound like you care,” Rebekah hissed, glaring at him.

“Don’t start with me, little sister,” Klaus warned, his voice low and sharp.

“Elijah has always been there for us,” she snapped, “And when he needs our help, where are you? Sitting here, playing chess with yourself.”

Klaus’s fist slammed down on the chessboard, sending the pieces flying across the table. He stood abruptly, stalking toward her, his eyes blazing. But Rebekah didn’t flinch, didn’t step back. She held his glare with her own, unrelenting.

“What do you want me to do?” Klaus roared, his voice cracking as his anger gave way to the grief simmering beneath. “Tell me, Rebekah. How do I fix this?”

“I want you to find him!” she screamed, tears stinging her eyes. “He’s our brother, Nik!”

Klaus’s shoulders slumped. His rage deflated, leaving him hollow. “I don’t know how to fix this, little sister,” he admitted quietly.

Marcel cleared his throat, stepping forward. “Maybe we should give him some time. Let him mourn her.”

“He’s not mourning, Marcel,” Klaus growled, clenching his jaw. “He’s murdering. He hasn’t even accepted that she’s dead.”

Rebekah and Marcel exchanged worried glances.

“We can’t just let him destroy himself,” Rebekah argued, her voice breaking. “Wherever he is, whoever crosses his path... they’re doomed. He’s out of control.”

“He’s changed,” Marcel muttered, rubbing his temple. “I’ve never seen him like this. So violent, so volatile.”

“That’s why I’m worried, Nik,” Rebekah said, her tone deadly serious. “If he’s not stopped, the Elijah we know will be gone. He will become a monster.”

Klaus looked down at the shattered chess pieces scattered across the table. “We are monsters, Rebekah,” he whispered, his voice raw.

“No, Nik,” she said, her voice trembling. “Not like this.”

Klaus remained silent for a moment, then lifted his gaze to meet hers. “Suppose someone took Marcellus from you. What would you do?”

“I would raze this earth and dance on the ashes,” she answered without hesitation, the fire of her love and loyalty burning bright in her eyes.

“That’s what he’s doing,” Klaus said darkly.

“Yes,” Rebekah agreed, “but Elijah would come for me. He would find me, and help me, keep me from losing myself. Now he’s the one who needs help.”

“How do we stop him?” Marcel asked, though his voice was laden with doubt.

Klaus shook his head slowly. “We don’t.”

“Nik…” Rebekah started, her voice pleading.

“We contain the damage,” Klaus cut her off, the steely resolve returning to his voice. “I’ll go to Europe. I’ll bring him back.”

Rebekah exhaled, relief flooding through her, and she pulled Klaus into a tight hug. She didn’t say anything, just held him as though her arms alone could keep the family from falling apart. He hugged her back, and for a moment, the cracks in their family seemed to close.

Marcel stood behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder and squeezing gently.

When she finally pulled away, Rebekah gave her brother a sad smile. “Be careful.”

Klaus nodded. “I will.”

His eyes flicked to Marcel, and the two men exchanged a knowing look. They both understood how dangerous this was. That if Elijah couldn’t be saved, they might lose him forever.

Or worse... they might have to put him down.

Two members of the Strix walked side by side, their steps echoing off the marble floors. One glanced around nervously, eyeing the high-tech security measures surrounding them, cameras in every corner, reinforced steel doors, layers of magical barriers.

"Is this really necessary? I can't stand being cooped up here. What's the point?" the taller vampire complained, his voice echoing through the empty corridor.

"Protocol," the other replied, his tone bored. "You know how paranoid Tristan can be. But I’m telling you, no one's getting in here. Not even him."

"I don’t get it. We had nothing to do with her death. Why are we hiding?"

"He doesn’t know that." The second vampire shook his head, his eyes flicking toward a monitor displaying multiple feeds from around the compound. “And he doesn’t seem to care about guilt or innocence anymore.”

They stopped at a reinforced door, pressing their palms to the scanners. As the heavy doors slid open, the two shared a final glance, the reality sinking in that even their supposed impenetrable defenses might not be enough.

They stepped into the dim room, illuminated only by the flickering light of the chandelier hanging above a long oak table. Strix members filled the chairs, their faces tense and uneasy. They had gathered in secret, far from prying eyes. Whispers of fear and uncertainty drifted across the room, but no one dared to speak above a murmur. The air was heavy with dread, and no one felt safe.

At the head of the table, Aya stood, her sharp gaze cutting through the room like a blade. She had always been the picture of composure, a pillar of strength, but now, her patience was thinning, her power waning, cracks in her armor where fear leaked through. Beside her, Tristan de Martel leaned casually in his chair, an amused smile playing on his lips, as if this was all a game to him. His eyes scanned the room, taking in the faces of his fellow Strix members, reveling in their discomfort.

“We all know why we’re here,” Aya began, her voice cold and steady, but there was an underlying tension to it, like a string about to snap. “Our ranks are thinning, and the reason is no secret.”

A murmur rippled through the room. Heads turned, glances were exchanged. They knew. Everyone knew.

“Elijah Mikaelson,” Tristan added, his voice smooth and casual, as if he were discussing the weather. His eyes gleamed with a cruel delight. “The noble brother has gone rogue. It seems the death of his beloved has… unraveled him.”

"That's an interesting way of putting it," one Strix member commented, his voice dripping with disdain. "He ripped apart fifty of my men, left a trail of bodies and witnesses, it took me days to cover it all up,"

"And how many vampires has he killed since then? Hundreds? Thousands?" another voice chimed in, sounding bitter.

"You're just scared," another vampire challenged, his tone mocking.

"Of course, we're scared. Do you know what he's capable of?" the first vampire hissed, baring his teeth.

"Silence," Aya ordered, her tone icy. The room fell quiet, the air crackling with tension. "We cannot defeat him, nor can we sit by and wait for him to tear us apart. He has lost his humanity, and it's clear that we must take action."

"We have already taken action and all it does is piss him off," the Strix member grumbled, "I have no interest in fighting a losing battle."

"You're a coward," Aya snarled, her eyes flashing with anger.

"What would you have us do?" another vampire spoke up, their voice strained, "We're no match for him."

"Perhaps we should consider a bargain," Tristan suggested, a sly smirk creeping across his lips. "Find the killer, deliver them to him, and save ourselves the trouble of being murdered."

The members murmured amongst themselves, some seeming open to the idea, while others still appeared wary.

"I cannot fathom why someone would be so foolish. Surely the person who did this knows the repercussions," a member said, a hint of fear in their voice.

Tristan's smile widened. "They were foolish indeed, and now they are the most hunted man, or woman, in the world,"

Aya's face was impassive, her mind racing. She had no doubt that Elijah would tear down the world to find his killer, and if the Strix didn't deliver them, he would do the same to their ranks. Tristan's indifference infuriated her. While he sat there with a smile, the Strix were suffering the consequences of his poor leadership.

A soft little cough pulled her from her thoughts, and she looked up to see a small girl standing at the other end of the table. She looked no older than twelve, with delicate features and wide, doe-like eyes. She looked lost, and this wasn't a place you could just wander into.

Other members noticed her presence and got to their feet, the scraping of chairs echoing off the walls. Aya narrowed her eyes, taking in the girl's appearance.

"Who are you?" Aya asked, her voice sharp.

The girl was clearly terrified, her hands shaking, and she looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Aya found it strange. She didn't sense the power of a witch coming off her, she was just a girl, and a very young one at that.

"I-I'm sorry," the girl stammered, her voice barely a whisper, "I don't know why I'm here. I just woke up here and now, I-I'm scared,"

"How did you get in here?" Aya questioned, her voice low and menacing.

"A nice man told me to come here," the girl mumbled, her eyes darting around the room, taking in the tense, hostile atmosphere. "He wanted me to talk to you."

Aya raised an eyebrow. "And why would he want that?"

The girl shrugged, her eyes brimming with tears. "I don't know, please, I just want to go home,"

"What did he look like?" Aya pressed, her voice growing louder.

"He had dark hair, and brown eyes," the girl sniffled, trying to hold back her sobs.

Tristan's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing dangerously. The room was suddenly silent, the tension now unbearable. Aya stared at the girl, her face an unreadable mask, but inside, her mind was racing.

"What did he want you to say?" Aya asked, her voice quiet, dangerous.

The girl’s breath hitched, her words barely audible. "That... he will give all of you a slow death."

The temperature in the room plummeted, and a cold shiver ran down Aya’s spine. She struggled to hide her unease, but the implication was clear: Elijah had infiltrated their sanctuary.

"A-and that... if I can get in..." The girl gulped, her small voice quaking, "He can too."

The room fell into a suffocating silence as the weight of her words settled on the group. Tristan shot up from his chair, his face dark with fury.

“Lockdown procedures. Now.” Tristan barked, his voice commanding and harsh.

"What about the girl?" Aya asked, her eyes narrowing as she looked at the trembling child. Her instincts told her something wasn’t right.

"Kill her," Tristan spat, his voice cold and merciless. "She’s served her purpose."

The room erupted into chaos. Sirens blared as the compound went into immediate lockdown. The lights flickered, dimming to an eerie glow. The Strix moved quickly, vanishing into the shadows, their bodies blurring as they scattered, heading for safe rooms or exit points.

Aya hesitated for a moment, her gaze still fixed on the girl. She started toward her, but a voice in her head warned her against it. With one last glance, she turned and hurried toward the safe room.

The little girl stood trembling in the darkness, tears streaming down her face. The once-imposing vampires had fled, leaving her all alone in the icy silence.

"It's okay, sweetheart," a voice purred from the shadows, smooth and calming. The girl gasped, her heart racing as she felt a hand on her shoulder, firm yet oddly comforting.

She turned to see a tall man standing behind her, his dark hair framing his sharp features, his kind eyes watching her closely. "Run along now," he said softly, giving her a gentle push toward the door.

The girl nodded quickly, wiping her tears before scampering away, the door sliding shut behind her with a soft hiss.

Elijah watched her go, his kind smile fading as the room returned to darkness. His eyes glinted coldly, the warmth in them vanishing like smoke. Slowly, the veins beneath his eyes darkened, spreading like cracks in the surface of his calm exterior.

He was already inside.

As the sirens echoed, he vanished into the shadows once more, his presence like a gathering storm. And what followed this storm, was pure, unrelenting destruction.

The soft drone of a news broadcast drifted through an abandoned loft, dust floating through the air. The heavy velvet curtains were drawn, the room dark and shadowy, save for the light of a flickering TV. The anchor woman's face was somber, her voice solemn.

“Une tragédie a frappé Paris la nuit dernière... un incendie dévastateur a détruit un immeuble historique, laissant peu de traces de ce qui s’y trouvait. Les autorités locales confirment que l’origine du feu demeure inconnue, mais la rapidité à laquelle il s’est propagé soulève des questions.”

Subtitles scrolled across the bottom of the screen in English: "A tragic accident struck Paris last night... a devastating fire destroyed a historic building, leaving few traces of what was inside. Local authorities confirm that the cause of the fire is unknown, but the speed at which it spread raises questions."

The camera cut to images of the smoldering wreckage. Blackened stone, twisted metal, and fire trucks still spraying water over what little remained.

Elijah wasn't paying attention to the TV anymore; he had his head in his hands, hunched over in a chair, his body wracked with sobs. Bodies were strewn about the room, blood spattered on the walls and floors. A macabre painting of violence and rage. The sight of the lifeless forms weighed heavily on him, a chilling reminder of his own actions.

He didn't know how long he had been there, but it felt like an eternity. Each day blended into the next, the hours stretching into a meaningless void. Days would go by where he felt utterly detached, lost in a sea of grief and loss, and then the anger would return, awakening him to a new trail of bodies. There were so many, too many, and yet it wasn't enough.

“Les témoins affirment avoir vu des ombres avant que l’incendie n’éclate, mais aucune preuve tangible n’a été trouvée. Des sources proches de l’enquête évoquent une possible attaque ciblée, bien que les détails restent flous.”

"Witnesses reported seeing shadows before the fire broke out, but no physical evidence has been found. Sources close to the investigation say there may have been a targeted attack, though details remain unclear."

"You used a child? My love, what has become of you?"

Elijah didn't flinch, didn't react as he felt your arms wrap around his shoulders, your lips pressing a gentle kiss on his cheek. Your voice was soft, tinged with sadness and disappointment. He hated himself for it.

"She's fine," Elijah said, his voice strained, barely able to meet your gaze.

"You don't know that," you sighed, your hands moving to his chest, trying to soothe him. "And you know this isn't the way,"

"There is no other way," he replied, his voice cracking, desperation lacing his words.

"You used an innocent child, one not much older than Hope," you said, a hint of anger breaking through your sadness.

Elijah stiffened. He knew you were right. It didn't make what he did any better, and he felt his self-loathing increase tenfold.

"They killed you; I did what I had to," Elijah defended, but the words felt hollow, a pitiful excuse.

"This isn't the way," you repeated, your voice pleading, "and you don't know who did it, or why. This is all just a guess, a hunch."

He let out another quiet sob, then grabbed his glass of blood and threw it against the wall, the shards falling like crimson rain. He stared at the stain on the wall, watching the liquid trickle down, and he couldn't help but feel a sick sense of satisfaction.

"You have to stop," you whispered, appearing in front of him, your hand cupping his cheek, trying to pull him away from the dark, destructive spiral he was on.

"I can't," he said, his voice breaking, unable to look at you, this ghost haunting him.

"Please," you begged, your hand moving to his neck, gently stroking his skin, trying to comfort him. "I know this pain. It's agony, it's consuming, but I promise you, it will fade."

He pulled you onto his lap, his arms wrapping around you, holding you close, trying to breathe in your scent, to feel your warmth. But he couldn't. You were an echo, a phantom he couldn't grasp.

"You can't bring me back. You know that," you whispered, your voice barely audible, a soft, sad reminder.

He didn't respond, just held you, his fingers digging into your skin, his eyes closed tightly, fighting back tears. He had spent so many nights like this, crying himself to sleep, waking up to nothing, just an empty bed, a cold room, and a hollow, broken heart.

He opened his eyes and let out a gasp as he realized he was clinging to one of the dead bodies on the floor, the vampire's skin gray and decaying, the body long since gone cold.

Elijah released the body and staggered to his feet, his head swimming with despair and self-loathing. His pain and sorrow gave way to anger and frustration, fueling the urge to hurt, to destroy anything and anyone.

"Par ailleurs, une jeune fille a disparu après ne pas être rentrée chez elle. La jeune fille, qui aurait douze ans, a été vue pour la dernière fois dans la zone de l'incendie,"

"In other news, a young girl has gone missing after failing to return home. The girl, who is reported to be twelve years old, was last seen in the area of the fire..."

Elijah snapped, grabbing the TV and throwing it against the wall, the sound of shattering glass echoing through the room. His rage burned bright, a hot, white flame. His heart raced, his breathing ragged, his body shaking with fury.

He wanted to scream, he wanted to kill, but more than anything, he wanted you. He wanted to hold you, to feel your warmth, to hear your voice. He couldn't take it anymore; he was falling apart.

Klaus was never a big croissant fan; he preferred something heartier for breakfast. But here, in France, the flaky pastry seemed to taste infinitely better. Maybe it was the morning sunlight filtering through the café windows or the distant sounds of bustling streets.

He took a sip of his espresso, his eyes scanning the crowded café, absorbing the lively atmosphere. Freya sat across from him, her brow furrowed as she read a spell book, her expression thoughtful.

"Anything in there about wrangling wayward siblings?" Klaus teased, a wry grin playing on his lips.

Freya glanced up, a slight frown creasing her forehead. "That's more your area of expertise."

Klaus let out a huff of laughter. "Fair enough."

Freya’s expression softened, a small smile breaking through. "It will be okay. We'll find him."

Klaus nodded, biting into his croissant, the flakes melting in his mouth. The clatter of dishes and murmurs of conversation surrounded them, along with the distant strains of a busker playing a violin.

"Then what? I’ve never known what to say to him," Klaus said, a hint of sadness in his voice. "He’s always the one with the wise words, not me."

"Honesty is all we have," Freya replied, her tone gentle. "We tell him we miss him, that he’s our brother, and we want him home."

"And that we need to have a funeral, or at least a memorial. Hope is very confused about what happened to her aunt," Klaus added, his gaze drifting to the people walking by the window.

"We'll do it together, as a family," Freya reassured, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. Her touch was gentle, a lifeline in the turmoil. "He needs to know we’re here for him."

"And if he doesn’t want to come back? What then?" Klaus asked, his voice heavy with concern.

"We will cross that bridge when we get to it." Freya pointed at the spell book, her expression brightening. "I’m looking into ways to calm his mind. Perhaps if he can control his rage, he can start to heal."

"I don’t wish to subdue him," Klaus said, frowning. "He deserves the right to his pain, to grieve in his own way."

Freya’s eyes widened, surprised by his response. It wouldn’t be the first time Klaus had tried to force Elijah or the rest of their family into doing things his way. Yet, despite his brashness, she knew Klaus was a man of deep, powerful emotions, capable of empathy.

"What?" Klaus asked, quirking an eyebrow at her.

"You’ve grown," Freya smiled. "It’s good to see."

"Don’t get used to it," Klaus quipped, taking another bite of his croissant and washing it down with a sip of his espresso. "I wish for us to go back to normal, where I’m the problem."

"You’ll never not be a problem, Nik," Freya grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Rude," he scowled.

"But true," she sighed, returning to her book with a smile.

Klaus took another sip of his espresso, his gaze drifting to the TV hanging in the corner. A news broadcast caught his attention, the images of a fire flickering on the screen. He leaned forward, his expression sharpening as he listened intently.

"De nouvelles informations proviennent de l'enquête sur l'incendie du centre-ville de Paris. La police a désormais identifié plus de deux cents corps retrouvés sur les lieux, sans aucune indication pour l'instant du nombre de personnes portées disparues. Il semblerait que les victimes étaient toutes membres de une société privée de conservation d'œuvres d'art, possédant des participations dans plusieurs pays. Alors que les autorités enquêtent toujours sur la cause de l'incendie, il a été suggéré que l'incendie avait été allumé délibérément.”

"There is new information coming in from the investigation into the fire in downtown Paris. Police have now identified more than two hundred bodies recovered from the scene, with no indication yet of how many are still missing. It's believed the victims were all members of a private art curation company, with holdings in several countries. While authorities are still investigating the cause of the blaze, it's being suggested the fire was set deliberately."

Klaus’s stomach dropped, a familiar dread creeping in. The timing was too convenient, and this 'art curation company' sounded like a cover for a secret society. He gestured to the screen, espresso still in hand, splashing a few drops onto the table. "Looks like a place for us to visit, wouldn’t you say?"

Freya looked up, her brow furrowing. "Do you think Elijah has anything to do with it?"

"If this organization is the Strix -sorry, was the Strix- then absolutely," Klaus replied, a grim smile forming on his lips. "Perhaps they gave him the answers he was looking for. Answers we weren’t able to find."

"I can’t imagine it would have been a pleasant reunion," Freya sighed, shaking her head. "I can’t say I blame him."

Klaus’s smile faded. He had tried his best, searching for months through the ashes of Elijah’s rage. He had gone from city to city, country to country, even continent to continent. And now, as he stood on the brink of discovery, he couldn’t help but wonder what condition Elijah would be in when they finally found him.

"Well then, no point in wasting any more time," Klaus said, taking a final sip of his espresso.

Freya nodded, closing her book, quickly downing her coffee before stealing the last bite of Klaus’s croissant, earning a playful glare.

"Oi!" he growled, "I was going to eat that."

"Too slow, brother," she smirked.

Klaus rolled his eyes and stood, tossing a wad of cash on the table without bothering to count. The two of them hurried out, the waiter shaking his head as he picked up the money and Klaus's empty plate.

"Americans," he muttered under his breath.

The site of the fire was a blackened husk, the acrid smell of smoke still heavy in the air. Klaus and Freya walked along the sidewalk, watching the firefighters douse the smoldering remains with water. Distant sirens echoed, a haunting reminder of the chaos that had unfolded.

"Can't believe it's still burning," Klaus mused, a slight frown on his face.

"Must have been quite the inferno," Freya remarked, her expression thoughtful.

"Magic?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, I don't sense any," Freya said, shaking her head. "Whoever started it didn't use magic."

Klaus glanced at her, a smirk on his lips. "I thought you didn't think Elijah had anything to do with it?"

Freya shrugged. "Maybe he did, maybe he didn't."

Klaus wrinkled his nose, his keen sense of smell picking up the lingering scent of blood beneath all the ash and smoke. Human, vampire, a mix of the two. The fire had raged through the night, burning hot and fast, devouring everything in its path.

"I do sense death, though," Freya murmured, her brow furrowing, her expression darkening. "Lots of it."

"Well, I can't imagine there'll be much left for us to find, considering how thorough my brother is," Klaus muttered, his gaze roving over the ruined buildings, his stomach sinking.

"Why are you so sure it was him?" Freya asked, her eyes narrowing.

"Because I can smell his cologne, no1 passant guardant," Klaus replied, wrinkling his nose.

"Kinda weird that you can smell that, Nik," Freya smirked, giving him a sideways glance.

"I'm a hybrid, love; it's one of my many gifts," Klaus replied, his tone matter-of-fact.

Freya shook her head, a wry grin on her lips, suppressing a giggle as she watched her brother sniff the air, his eyes closed, his expression one of intense concentration.

"Could be someone else with the same taste in cologne; you never know," she teased, nudging him with her elbow.

"It’s very difficult to come by; only a handful of stores carry it," Klaus muttered, ignoring her teasing. "And... she bought it for him just before... you know."

"Ah," Freya's expression softened, her amusement replaced by a mix of sadness and understanding.

Klaus opened his eyes, his gaze sweeping over the destruction once more, the weight of grief settling on his shoulders. He missed you. Your laughter, your wit, the way you could put him in his place. He admired your loyalty, your strength, and how much you loved his brother.

"What are you thinking about?" Freya asked, her voice quiet and cautious.

"Our departed sister-in-law... the cause of all of this," Klaus said, a sad smile on his lips.

"You can't blame her, you know," Freya murmured, her eyes filled with understanding and sympathy. "I miss her too."

"It's hard to be reminded, is all," Klaus replied, a hint of pain in his voice.

Freya gave him a soft, sympathetic smile, her hand gently squeezing his shoulder. "You know... I never learned how they met," she said, trying to steer the conversation toward something less melancholy.

Klaus laughed, shaking his head. "Oh, it's quite a tale, and some parts I'm not privy to. But I can tell you that she was a novice in a convent," he began, a sparkle in his eye.

"A nun?!" Freya exclaimed, her eyebrows shooting up.

"Indeed, although she hadn't taken her vows," Klaus chuckled, amused by the surprised look on her face.

"So, what happened? How did they end up together?" Freya asked, intrigued.

"For all parties involved, it was quite a dramatic affair," Klaus continued, a wistful smile forming on his lips. "But we have more important things to focus on, don't you think?"

Freya sighed, rolling her eyes. "You're no fun."

Klaus let out a huff of laughter and returned to focusing on the scents around him, trying to find a trail, something that might lead him to his brother. He caught the faintest whiff of blood, the scent leading away from the fire, and deeper into the city.

"This way," he said, striding confidently down a street, away from the site of the fire.

Freya hurried to catch up, her long legs making short work of the distance, her boots clattering on the cobblestone streets.

"How can you be so sure?" Freya asked, falling in step beside him, her voice low and cautious.

"I just am," Klaus said, his tone brooking no argument. "That bloody cologne of his is everywhere. No one else has such atrocious taste in fragrances."

"Nik..." Freya cautioned, her tone warning, her gaze flickering to the passersby, making sure no one was eavesdropping. "We don't know what's waiting for us. We can't just charge in."

"I know; that's why you are going in first, my dear sister," Klaus smirked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Nik," Freya protested, her expression indignant.

"Don't worry, I'll be right behind you," Klaus grinned, giving her a playful nudge as they rounded a corner.

The two of them came to a stop outside an old building, its stone façade crumbling, the windows boarded up. Klaus gestured for Freya to go in, and with a roll of her eyes, she did.

"This place is creepy," she muttered, her boots echoing on the cracked tile floor.

"There's blood, a lot of it," Klaus said, sniffing the air, his eyes closed, his body tensed. "Upstairs."

They made their way up an old spiral staircase, the steps creaking under their feet. They reached a landing; the hallway was dark and narrow.

"Down there," Klaus said, pointing at a closed door at the end of the hall.

Freya nodded and slowly approached the door, her senses alert, her magic tingling under her skin. It was eerily quiet; the silence weighed heavy in the air, pressing down on her.

She stopped at the door, her hand hovering over the handle. She looked back at Klaus, his expression calm and composed, but she could sense his nervousness, his apprehension.

"Ready?" she whispered.

Klaus gave her a curt nod. Freya took a deep breath and turned the handle, the door opening with a creak.

"Elijah?"

The two of them were met with the sight of a massacre: body parts strewn across the room, blood splattered on the walls.

Freya gasped and took a step back, Klaus's hand gripping her shoulder. His eyes roved over the carnage, landing on a lone figure in the middle of the room, standing motionless.

"Elijah," Klaus breathed.

His brother was wearing an old T-shirt and jeans, tattered and bloodstained, covered in dirt. His hair was matted and wild, his eyes haunted, the light dimmed within them.

Klaus and Freya stepped inside, careful not to slip on the blood, the floor sticky and wet. They approached Elijah slowly, his gaze fixed on the severed arm in his hand, his eyes dull and lifeless.

"Brother?" Klaus said, his voice barely above a whisper, his hand reaching out.

"You are not real," Elijah murmured, not taking his eyes off the limb, his expression vacant and distant.

"Elijah, we're here," Freya said gently. "It's time to come home."

"I won't be fooled again," Elijah hissed, his grip tightening on the severed arm.

Klaus took a tentative step forward, one arm stretched behind him to protect Freya, the other held out, placating and non-threatening. "We're not illusions, brother," he said softly, reassuringly.

"Freya," Elijah breathed, his head snapping up, his gaze finding hers.

"Yes, Elijah, it's me," she replied, giving him a gentle smile.

He blinked, his eyes flicking from her face to Klaus's, his brow furrowing. "Have you found a way to bring her back?"

Klaus and Freya exchanged glances, their expressions sad and resigned. It wasn't something Freya wanted to do... to tap into such dark magic. She had been searching for you on the other side but found no trace. She believed you had found peace, and to tear you away from that would be a cursed, evil thing, an affront to the balance between life and death.

"Elijah, there's no way, not without consequence," Klaus said, his tone firm, his eyes filled with regret. "We discussed this."

Elijah dropped the severed arm, his hands clenching into fists. "You're wrong. There is a way."

"Elijah," Freya began, but he cut her off.

"Bring her back," he demanded, his eyes burning with intensity.

"I can't," Freya said, her voice quiet and regretful. "I'm sorry, Elijah. She's gone; she's at rest."

"No, no, no," Elijah growled, his hands coming up to grip his hair, tugging at the roots, his chest heaving, eyes wild.

"Brother, she's in a better place," Klaus tried, his tone firm and reassuring. "I think it's time you come home... You need to let her go."

Elijah shook his head, his breathing ragged, his whole body trembling. "No, no, no," he chanted, his eyes darting around the room, looking for something.

"Elijah," Freya murmured, her brow furrowed, her expression concerned. "Please, come with us. She wouldn't want this for you."

"No, no, no!" he growled, his voice echoing off the blood-spattered walls, his face contorted in a mask of rage.

He grabbed a nearby table and threw it against the wall, the sound of splintering wood reverberating through the air.

"Bloody hell," Klaus growled, grabbing Freya and yanking her backward, shielding her with his body.

Elijah lunged at them, his fangs bared, a murderous look in his eyes. He tackled Klaus, sending them both crashing into the wall, the plaster cracking under the impact.

"Nik!" Freya exclaimed, her magic sparking at her fingertips.

"Elijah, you've gone mad," Klaus grunted, shoving him away, sending him careening across the room. "She's dead."

"Niklaus," Elijah growled, his body vibrating with anger, the haunted, hollow look in his eyes replaced by raw, unhinged rage. "Bring. Her. Back."

"We can't, and you know it," Klaus spat, his eyes flashing yellow, his face shifting into the hybrid’s feral features. "She's at peace, Elijah. We need to let her go."

"I won't, I can't," Elijah raged, his body trembling, his eyes filling with unshed tears that threatened to spill over. His voice broke. "How can you ask me to do that?"

Freya’s heart clenched at the sight of her brother unraveling, his usual restraint shattered. "Come home, please," Freya pleaded, her eyes welling with tears, her voice thick with desperation. "We can help you."

Elijah's chest heaved, his wild eyes shifting from Klaus to Freya, barely recognizing them. "Get out," he growled, the words vibrating through the bloodstained room. His gaze locked on Klaus, his voice turning into a vicious snarl. "GET OUT!"

Klaus stared at him for a moment, his expression conflicted. Freya watched him pull a silver dagger out of his pocket, the familiar glint of the cursed weapon that had subjugated their family time and time again. She hadn't even known he had brought one with him, and her heart clenched at the sight. She didn’t want this for either of them. But given Elijah's state, she knew it was necessary.

"I'm sorry, Elijah," Klaus said, his voice solemn. He rushed forward, his movements a blur, and before Elijah could react, he buried the blade in his brother’s chest. The gasp Elijah let out echoed in the empty, ravaged room. The look on his face was heartbreaking, a mixture of shock and pain. Klaus had to steel himself against the emotion threatening to overtake him, reminding himself it was for the best, for all of them.

"Rest now, brother," Klaus murmured, pulling him into a tight embrace, cradling his body as Elijah slumped, his strength leaving him. His big brother, the north star of the family, now lost to grief.

"I thought you didn't want to subdue him," Freya whispered, her voice shaky, her eyes wide with shock as she pressed a trembling hand against her mouth.

"It was a last resort," Klaus said, his voice thick with emotion, trying and failing to hide the crack in his composure. "I couldn't bear seeing him like this any longer. I didn't think... he would be so... unhinged."

"He's grieving," Freya said softly, her eyes filled with sympathy as she knelt beside them, brushing a hand through Elijah’s matted hair. "He loves her, Nik. Losing her... it's broken him."

"I know," Klaus muttered, his arms tightening around Elijah, holding him close as if he could protect him from the demons he was fighting inside. His voice cracked, and before he could stop it, a tear slipped down his cheek. Quickly, he wiped it away, trying to maintain his strength.

"Time to go home," Klaus said, his voice barely above a whisper, thick with sorrow. "For all of us."

Freya reached out, gently taking Elijah's limp hand in hers, squeezing it tight as they prepared to leave the nightmare behind. She hoped and prayed that Elijah could feel her love through the numbness, that somewhere, deep within the wreckage of his mind, he knew they would never give up on him.

That the battle to bring you back hadn’t been in vain. It had only just begun.

{Part Two}{Part Three}{Part Four}{Part Five}{Part Six}

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darlingofvalyria · 1 year ago

Text

❝Will you forsake me, my love? And the babe I carry?❞

[ You had made a mistake. A slip up. You had overlooked the extent of Otto Hightower and his greed. Now you must make it right... or pay in fire and blood. ]

[ +18 MDNI ] [ 5,504 ] [ series masterlist ] | jacaerys velaryon x targaryen aunt-wife!reader (aegon's twin sister),

contains— canon divergence - manipulative reader— gets darkish but not yet dd:dne - targcest, angsty as fuck, pregnancy - nsfw: p & v sex, oral (male receiving) - no kings, no martyrs, no betas.

a/n— i... actually dunno how i got here tbh. thankfully, this isn't dead dove quite yet, but you, yes you, as jace's manipulative targ wife, almost did, girl, jfc. ahahaha! comments, reblogs & like at will, mwa! 💝 + now that there is a second part, and a third part i'm plotting (uh huh), this is officially a series!! its v loosey goosey, but it'll have a masterlist so... it means it has a taglist! message me to be tagged 💝 & if there are any drabbles/blurbs you wanna see!! message me lmk!! i have so many thoughts about jacey & manipulative reader hehe + dividers by @danowh0re

The only warning you receive is the missive hastily made by your twin.

In his panic, Aegon's scrawl had been barely legible, but the cold sweat that shot through your spine at making sense of the text had you keening over; fingers over your mouth, a dangerous gurgle in your stomach.

The world tilts, the air sucks inward.

Fear... Cold, weightless fear, settles in your heart.

"Princess!" Your maid, Dyana, shrieks, hands grasping your elbows to prevent you from falling. She turns to the door. "Call the maestre back! Now!"

You shake your head rapidly. "No, no. No Ser Addam. I am alright."

"But princess—"

"No, Dyana, I am alright." But you are pale, and a thrum shakes through fingers, rattling your ribcage and trying to yank your heart out of your throat. You have to find your footing or all will be lost. You grab Dyanna's arms and she winces. "Tell me- the prince - where is he?"

"I'm not sure, princess, I can—"

"Quickly! We shan't lose precious more time."

You turn to Meera. You had invested in her from the early age you had taken her in from the orphanage. Loyalty, in its absolution, must be rewarded.

And ease for your own plans can be disguised as a reward.

She steps forward obediently, hands clasped behind her back like a soldier awaiting orders. She is nondescript with plain features, easily able to hide between other common folk; and no one, truly, looks at a maid.

"Go to the Sea Dragon Tower, wait on the Rookery for Johan. Only Johan, do you understand me? Keep the missive that I will dictate to you close to his heart, hidden, and he must depart immediately. Throw extra gold at the captain, I do not care. Meera, no other eyes must touch the paper I will send, tell him of the utter import such a thing. No other than another Spider. We cannot unravel further than this or we will start burning."

Meera's gaze darkens, her posture straightening. "Yes, your grace."

You grasp her hands, your mind whirring— so many plots, so many lies, in between them, he flashes in your mind; the dark hair, the warmth of his hand, the sweet, simpered smile and the flicker of rage that dances like a flame. In and out and calmed and wild.

Dutiful. A Perfect Son. A Beloved Prince. Your Lord Husband.

He flashes in between plans and unraveled lies. Along it, Aegon's missive, quickly written, panic seeping in every vowel.

Grandsire had gotten to Aemond's head. Went to Storm's End. Met Lucerys. They are calling him Kinslayer.

Your head is pounding. Kinslayer, Kinslayer, Kinslayer. It churns your stomach, dries your throat. Lucerys dead. Aemond beheaded. Jacaerys' rage. Rhaenyra's. Dark Sister in the Rogue Prince's hand. All your clever threads, your webs and tales, everything you have sacrificed to get here— they are unraveling, the lives you care about, your fondness and love — the fear has moulded and churned; the Stranger now haunting the skies, searching for names, trying to grasp for your neck.

Aemond, You, Aegon, Helaena, Alicent, Jaeheara, Jaehearys, Maelor—

Aemond, Aemond, Aemond.

Your baby brother. Marred and disfigured, dutiful and dedicated. Sarcastic and princely; dancing with you if you ask. Reading with him in the library. A flickering hearth, a kind eye, a protective arm.

Your baby brother, beheaded, gaping mouth and bloodred eye.

Justice spun and spun, but oh so corrupted when they had taken his eye and no name step forth to claim.

Disfigured, marred, and dead.

Focus, you think, your mouth moving, words spilling, plans stretching. Focus.

Otto Hightower must die. It is a pressing thought, digging into the centrefold of your mushy, wet brain. Pressing and pressing like a fever as words of instructions, orders, must be sent along one spider to another.

Your hand drifts to your stomach as Meera leaves, in her head the words that must reach King's Landing. That must pass only the cleverest of hands. Your hand curls, your fist tightens enough that blood clots and beads through crescent rings. Clever girl. Clever spider. You have to believe in Meera and the people under your hushed employ.

You have no choice. You have built your webs, you must trust your spiders.

Not when you can't even trust your own fucking blood.

It took a while to get your network going in Dragonstone. As soon as the smell of brimstone and dragon broached your nostrils, the plans for moving what you had started in Kings Landing became the forefront plan. There is only so much movement you can make in a board full of enemies; and with so many more things to do, you cannot be restrained.

People with stakes, with ambitions and wants of their own— be that money, a good future, a house with warmth and love — if you can provide it enough, dash it in enough kindness and care, people, like ants, could move mountains for you.

It took most of hyour life to have what you established in Kings Landing. Most of your free time— feiging afternoon teas, walks along the garden; young lady things that will not arouse suspicion, fit for a pious, devoted daughter of Alicent Hightower — was spent building and building webs.

Thankfully, as a Princess of the Realm— and as the future Heir's wife, the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms (the title tingles and throbs, comes alive in gasps and winning hands) — you can have your pick of maids and lady in waitings here too. Connections are important, and Jacaerys did not bereaved you of choice.

In fact, he so encouraged you to make changes to Dragonstone as you so chose fit.

"You are my wife," he sighed, pressing kiss after kiss to the side of your head. When he was wrapped around you like this— arms around your torso, a finger, almost absentmindedly, rubbing just the underside of your breast, and the smell of him, boyish but smoky, like a fireplace and first kiss, swaying you to a rhythm he is fond of, absentminded almost — it reminded you of how Vermax oft like to wrap around small hills and large rocks. A dragon mimicking another dragon; a twin soul so connected.

He sighed again as you run your own fingers against the back of his palm, against the side of his head behind you. "You may do so as you wish," he finished, nuzzling further into you as if he wants no more than to become one with you, flesh and blood. An engorged monster of sorts.

"Just your wife?" you teased. The wedding had only been a few moons ago. The missive had been immediately sent to Kings Landing (under your orders, of course, your new husband none the wiser as he had preferred a few more days of just you), and before lunch, your hand on Jace's thigh, his eyes more than hungrily looking at your lips— Caraxes screech alongside Syrax' wing pattern shook the walls, demanding answers.

Jace had looked nervous for a second, not at all prepared to be facing his mother so soon, his Queen, and his stepfather... whose own daughter he was supposed to marry. Better prepared to face all of them in Kings Landing was his plan.

But you had grasped his hands, had mounted girlish excitement shining in your eyes (an expression so familiar to you to adopt that it so perfectly hides the sharp edges of your excitement; your smugness. It oft reminds you of Aemond)— and Jacaerys had melted.

"My Queen," he reimbursed. You turned as his hands cupped your face. Gentle, possessive in its own way. You sighed, eyes fluttering close with a small, satisfied smile on your lips. "My beautiful queen."

A Maiden in love is not a hard thing to emulate. And he does not make it hard to be.

On some days, you even think it will be easy to actually fall in love with him. You already do so feel his warmth for you permeate your own being. His attention is addicting for one; it is whole and preserving. He makes it known when he is looking at his lady mother, at Baela, his former betrothed (who had given you a meaningful eye when Rhaenyra and Daemon escorted you back to Kings Landing to face the rest of your consequences), and other ladies of the court versus when he is looking at you.

He does not hide his adoration. His so obvious desire.

When you reward him for his loyalty, for private little ticked boxes you keep for him— siding with you in arguments, defending you upon ugly whispers in the Keep, requesting from his mother, a more permanent residence of your own in Dragonstone, in the guise of newly wedded bliss to hide growing your connections far and wide (once Rhaenyra takes the throne, Jacaerys will be named Heir and Prince of Dragonstone; your spiders and people must reach each end of Westeros, and Dragonstone is the perfect central chatter) — you mount him and bask at the lust contorting his features, at his hands gripping your waist in a staccato rhythm of feeling and gasp, each harsh bounce of your hips sending you both to bliss. You feel him inside you so deeply, enjoy his eyes rolling back and exposing his neck for you to sink bruises on.

Most oft, he enjoys mounting you. And you like the alternative of his choice to be buried so deep you feel him in your throat; to hold you down and hold you close, telling you to keep your eyes open for him as you come undone again and again— time and practice can manage his newness to the act. His enthusiasm, both for the act and for you, definitely helps his case, and he is so fond of finding your pleasure, of leading you to the precipe, so addicted to your sounds and writhes.

"There? Is that it, little dragon?" he huffs against your mouth, so attentive as he held your wrist and watch as you gasp, your face twisting as he hits that point inside of you, that sweet, sweet spot of undeniable pleasure buried so deep within— that he laughs. Not meanly, but of pride as he pulls back and hits it again. More insistent. You mewl and scratch his back, your toes curling as you seek the pleasure he so enjoys insisting you into.

"I've found it again, didn't I?" Another snap of his hips, another cry of your lips. "I will fuck your sweetest spot until you- are- crying- my name in that sweet, sweet whine of yours, shall I?"

But it's not really a question privy to an answer, surely not by your own mouth but by your body, as he manhandles you easily and does not stop until you are a quivering, overstimulated mess against wet sheets.

Sometimes, when you can't help but reward him as soon as possible— so excited from his gallant display; the perfect King bowing to his wife — you drag him to shadowy corners and solemnly drop yourself on your knees, unlacing his breeches with deft precision. You place your hot mouth against his manhood, your eyes fluttering delicately, making him reach completion enough times that he is left with a dopey, simpleton of a smile afterward, a soft, chaste kiss against your your head, your nose, your lips. So tender to how he was fucking your mouth not but seconds ago.

"I love you," he whispers against hot skin and cool, salty air.

And it eases, every time he looks at you like that, holds like you that. His love is patient, sweet, kind, and devouring. It overflows and seeps into you that when you whisper back, just as soft, just as troublingly honest, "Avy jorrāelan, ñuha zaldrīzes, I love you, my dragon," the truth of them bleeds further and further into your heart.

Jacaerys.

A warm grief swells within you. Your hands twitch, flattening your grief beneath your chest, deep in your gut. Deep below. You fought hard to be here. You cannot lose him now.

Otto Hightower must die.

A cruel thought, a natural order. With your marriage to Jacaerys meant a relative peace, a truce. Moving to Dragonstone many moons was more than just to establish your position, your future. It was also for your darling sister to take better control of her position back in the centre of power, alongside her husband.

Aged well with a stronger alley who most would not dare defy— a vainglorious guard dog, really, one who isn't afraid to sic people with a mere nod from his master — more than evens out the playing field.

The Queen To Be is prospering. And in her prosper, meant your husband's position more than fulfilled. He was to be King, and with you as his Queen, his reign will want for not.

You should have known it would put Otto on defense, would panic and use your siblings and your poor, nervy mother, to move in unfeasible decisions.

Aegon had taken to calling him grandsire again. Aemond... Your spiders had told you that Lucerys was sent to Storm's End as no more than a casual reminder of Lord Borros' oath. Viserys was in no doubt in worse conditions than he had been the last time you or your husband had visited him. Rhaenyra was settling on her position, reminding the Great Houses which heir was meant to rise soon, so close to the changing of the guard.

And your little brother no doubt was moved in panic.

This was a slip up on your part. Once the King was dead, Otto Hightower would hold no cards; Rhaenyra would never take him as Lord Hand, and his daughter would no longer be a foreground of power. Rhaenyra has her heir. The winning hand is more than ensured on her part.

His only move would be an usurpation, and would ruin your chance at being Queen... it was a good move. Your twin was not made for duty whilst you craved it. He knows you better than you know yourself; you will not be played in his palm. You would be useless to him.

"I should have killed him," you murmur to yourself.

Yna, the last maid in your arsenal, steps forward. She is the youngest of your main three wards, and the newest. She is still learning her letters, but she is young and always eager to serve.

"My lady?"

"I am going to find the prince. Whatever happens, tell them Vermax must not leave with his rider. Make up any excuse you must. My husband must stay in Dragonstone until I say otherwise." You raise your chin, tone icy. "Anyone who dares to defy my orders will be beheaded."

"At once, princess."

Your steps are measured, your breath held between lie and tongue. So many pretty rings on your fingers, twisting and twisting at the idea of the confrontation plagues you.

But you raise your chin. You will not be defeated. All is not lost.

Dyanna had caught you at Aegon's Garden, windblow hair and wide, fearful eyes.

You had braced yourself. "The Prince?"

"The Stone Drum, my princess, he is..."

"Angry," you supplied. She nodded jerkily. "Tell me everything."

"The Prince was talking with Ser Robert, was about the missive sent from Kings Landing says Kevan, not soon after your own." Another spider, one that follows most of your husband's movements. Unassuming and quick on his feet. A good soldier. "Prince Lucerys is alive but badly maimed." The breath you had withheld between grit and fright unrolled, the world slamming back into the ground in a giant's fitful wake. "He still hasn't woken up, says Arrax took most of the damage— one wing torn but is awake. Dunno about recovery for dragons, 'specially against Vhagar. Mournin' the prince, Kevan says. Makin' loud, sad dragon noises."

"But he is alive?" you pressed. Aemond's life hung in its balance. Your sweet, vengeful baby brother who bore his tragedies between muted teeth and rage.

"Yes."

"And Aemond?"

"No word in the missive or between them." It made your throat tight, the convulsion restraining your neck once more.

"It's fine. As long as there no mention of his death. Then that's all I need."

"My lady, there's more. There might be a reason we haven't been getting much word from King's Landing. Or Oldtown. It seems to connect is all."

Your pulse jumped. "Tell me later. I have to see to the prince. No one is allowed in Stone Drum for the time being. Not unless absolutely necessary." You think and you think hard. "Ready to call in a maestre."

Dyanna had looked alarmed when you left her, but you only gave a pensive smile. A soldier's nod.

He is bent over the Painted Table, shoulders so hunched, reminding you of monsters and tall tales. A dragon, really. He may not have Velaryon blood, your husband, but you— nor others — could deny the thrum of fire in his blood. Roiling and boiling, so engulf in his rage, his voice is quiet at the approach of your footsteps.

"You have bound me to Dragonstone," he says calmly with all the quiet rage you can hear in your very soul. It makes you shiver, but you stand resolute.

He is still turned away, away from you, palms flat on the surface. The iron brazier is lit up, and so is the Painted Table itself.

"Can you honestly tell me you won't try and kill my brother if I let you, ñuha valzȳrys my husband?" you say softly. You plead. His refusal to turn to you spikes your madness in corners. The night reaches and you finger your rings as you try not to spill all over the floor; your own madness, your own fears, your quiet, quiet webs. "Aren't you at least satisfied at the thought of your stepfather excelling at planting Dark Sister to his neck? At least cheery at the idea of him suffering inside those dungeons?"

He spins then, rage—white hot and spilling — breathes as he bellows, "He has harmed my brother!"

You calmly met his gaze. "You do not know that for sure."

He laughs without mirth, arms wide and daring. Crazed anger outlandish and wild, while in response you tighten and become small.

But you do not cower. No truth cowers. And you are a princess. A dragon the same as he.

Lest all, he is a mere husband.

"What else could it be? Your brother has called us bastards our entire lives," he spits. "Neither of us are blind to his dark looks. Despite your family's attempted plots, his rage beholds him. His grudge is stronger. He attacked Lucerys, on fucking dragonback— Arrax, a dragon Luke has barely flown against your brother's war dragon — and that makes him a kinslayer."

Your blood leaps, and you cannot control your own fear, your own anger. "Do not throw that word around so carelessly, Jacaerys! My brother has killed no kin!"

"He has tried, " he hisses and it makes your eyes burn because he has never looked at you so before. At his thunderous footsteps to reach you, to aggravate you, you fight the urge to flinch. His anger spills and spoils you. You try not to curdle. You keep yourself braced. Kinslayer is so ugly said aloud. "That is enough of a brand to call him kinslayer."

Your jaw tightens, tears unleashed from your eyes and there's a glimmer there— a spark, of your Jace. Your husband. It is small and short, a comet so faint it is almost nothing, but it is there.

He does not like to see you cry, your Jace. Not if it isn't from pleasure.

You raise your chin. "My brother is no kinslayer. Lucerys is alive. Do not make Aemond what he is not."

He laughs humourlessly against your face, his hand reaching for your jaw, thumb over your chin, but the mock gentleness wounds you worse. "And who has alerted you of the news? Your twin usurper?"

"W-what?" Blood rushes to your head. Something is missing. He knows. He knows about grandsire's plans. Dyanna would have said. Dyanna didn't know. "Aegon is not an usurper," you whisper, faint but firm.

His thumb rubs against your bottom lip, his eyes tracing your face. "Is this the plan all along, then?" he says softly. "While your brother and grandsire plot to usurp the throne from my mother, and your younger brothers raise bannermen from Oldtown to Storm's End, and try to kill my own when they get the chance, I suppose your job is to warm my bed and to ensure I'm out of the fray before you kill me in my—"

His words stutter for you have slapped him. It is not the hardest move on your part, and he stops not from pain but from shock. Tears freely flow down your face now as you push him off you.

"I know nothing of these plots you speak of." That in much is true. These plots are half-assed. Made in panic and fear, and it makes you curse Otto Hightower to the depths of further Hell. "And you may bully me as you wish, husband, but I will not take it as if it does not hurt me. As if- as if I would take pleasure from your death."

He raises his chin, so defiant in his own anger that he clenches his jaw. "Are you telling me you took no part in your grandsire's plans?"

"We have been married for many moons now. I think, out of anyone on this island, amongst our family even, you would know me best. I have only ever truly bloomed in your presence," you say softly. Lies and truths are balanced so precariously; they spin and spin in a tantalising grip that even you don't know where fabrication meets honesty.

If your own lies befuddle you, why not your truths to him?

"If you are doubting me, then you are doubting our marriage, is it not?" You give a mirthless laugh of your own, chin wobbling as you brush your tears away. His eyes track your movements and his brows are furrowed. "Is it ease, that has turned you so from me? Has your doubt been seeded long before you took us to Dragonstone? To affirm your mother that you have wedded me? Yes, Aegon sent me a missive a mere hour ago. He says Aemond had been urged by our grandsire, no doubt played with as he had done so to our mother, as he tries with Aegon. With me."

Jacaerys' eyes darken. Bottomless pits of dark, dark eyes. You've grown to love them you realised.

"I will give you all the violet-eyed heirs you desire," you had purred once in your new marriage bed, having just christened (one to a few times) your new marital chambers in Dragonstone. "But I do so wish I get a babe with your eyes."

"They are hardly exemplary," Jace had said, snorting. His hand rested on your back while you rest on top of him. The air is acrid in sweat and sex, but neither of you mind. "They are not a show of Valyrian blood."

"Who cares?" You reached to dance your finger against his lashes. "A daughter with your eyes... I fear, I would spoil her rotten. She would be an absolute beauty."

"Are you calling me a beauty?" he teased, trying to hide his rosy cheeks.

"Your eyes, yes," you teased back.

"If I was such a pawn to him," you say now. "If I was using you as you so callously accused me of, why would I bother with a marriage with you? You are right, they have accused you of not being a trueborn Velaryon—" He flinches. "—So why would Otto decide marrying you was a good idea at all? Any babes I carry would be questioned, and it would serve no benefit at all if the main plot was Aegon usurping the throne. To keep you entertained? Hardly. It would serve him better, as was his earlier plan, if I had married Aegon myself."

He loses his stance, a grit in his teeth gives you way to a slow curl of possession. A renewed sense of anger. His fists clenched at his sides.

You found a thread. You don't just unspool, you decide, you will yank, and you will yank hard.

"Aegon is a firstborn male heir, even as twins. It made sense to anyone who understood Targaryen customs that marrying us would be the natural order. It did not matter any past transgressions he may have had, I keep him better. I am his tether to this world. It was obvious to anybody with eyes that if we were to marry, we would breed good Valyrian stock, our children—"

But he has lurched forward, grasping your face, seething, angry at an idea, at a diverted road.

"He wanted us to marry," you continue, a snake's hiss that it is. "But your mother sent a missive asking for Helaena's hand, and I had already told her I wanted someone else. I wanted you." You grasp his leather, pulling him to you in equal ferocity. Madness meeting a mirror. "From the very start, grandsire could not control me for my blood sung for you. I had done my very best to free my siblings from him, resigned myself to be their forever protector inside that Keep with no real power of my own, but when the Gods gave me the chance to have you, I had been selfish. I abandoned them for you. Because I wanted to be yours for a night, I was willing to have that, if it is the only moment you will grant me."

You are crying again, and lies are spinning with their truths, golden and bloodstained, but you are cracking him.

"But it was you, Jacaerys Velaryon, who had asked for my hand. You wanted to marry, whisk us away to Dragonstone, and I love you too much to blind myself to the idea of becoming your wife would not be a totally selfish act, for what act of ours would be considered selfish if it was borne out of love?" you sob hard, grasping and reaching against him, trying to shake and ruin him. "I thought you loved me, and yet here you are, accusing me of plotting? What? Usurping your mother? Killing you in your godsdamned sleep?"

"Wife, I—"

"No. I am sorry for what happened to Lucerys. But if it is vengeance that is truly what you seek, and in the morrow my brother," my choke out. "My brother would be announced d-dead, I would rather you kill me now for it seems I have not only failed them from my grandsire's clutches, I have also failed at being your wife."

Your hands reach in and pull his dagger out, and he is instinctive, a true swordsman, holding onto the dagger before your own. But you do not give up. You yank him forward so suddenly, the dagger now positioned over your heart.

You keep him there, defiant as you are. As no true dragon is afraid of metal. Metal melt in the face of dragonfire.

The tip of his dagger deepens against your skin as war rages in his own mind. Truths and lies spinning and spinning in his head, but your thread— your thread is Hightower green clung in blood and gold — and it's the brightest, twisting beneath his lids and rage. Rage and grief, the tethering madness is spilling, trying to break into the dragon's clutches—

But your Jace is strong. He holds it at bay with a fury.

It is love, it is love, it is love.

But you are not sure. And you have to be.

You have been betrayed already, your Jace cannot betray you. If you are to have a future with him as King, there must be no doubts.

You step forward, letting the blade sink against your skin. It draws blood. A few beads bloom and slide. Thick red in a string or two. It makes his jaw tighten, and you feel, almost impercibly, the strain in his hand give.

That flash of panic, panic bathed in love, in adoration, is all you need.

You grasp his hands in yours, blade nestled between two grips now, and he gasps, thinking you were going to push him away finally, but no. You hold on tight to his hands, nails digging into his skin, keeping the blade where it is before you push forward once more. The tip sinks into your flesh, blood gushes as pain explodes.

"What are you doing!? Let go!" he roars, but you stare at his eyes, brown, so pretty, framed in featherlight lashes, did he even know there are violet flecks in his eyes?

You will not harm me, you think. You realise. For you have given yourself to me body and soul. Even the Gods know.

"Will you forsake me, husband?" your voice is no higher than a whisper, than a wind's hum. It is hollow and cracking. A siren song. In the silence, it is a whip cracking against petty flesh. Against a beating heart thrumming for you. "And the babe I carry?"

Before the words register in his brain, you yank his hands again with every strength you can muster, the dagger, to hover over your stomach. Your Jace roars, pulling with his entire strength as complete fear in floods his beautiful, brown eyes. The strength propels your force of gravity, and you fall with a hard thud. The dagger is flung in the second as he reaches for you, cold-curdled terror ruining his face as he tries to make sense of where to touch you.

The fall is hard enough that you wince. And your instincts, new as it is, is to curl your hands protectively over your stomach.

"M-my heart? Does it hurt? I-I am so sorry, I-A MAESTRE, CALL A MAESTRE FOR THE PRINCESS NOW!"

Your child is strong, you have always known that in your heart.

The second you held suspicion, pressing against the tender flesh of your breast to the nausea that kicked in out of nowhere, before Maestre Gerardys had confirmed: you are with child. Your firstborn. The heir of heirs. You could not wait to meet him.

"I hope it is a boy," you murmur weakly into the darkened space of your chambers. You don't turn as Jacaerys' head snaps, his hands over your own, sat on a chair by your bedside. Relief, guilt, fear breaks and crashes in waves against him, trying to nudge you, but you don't look. You stare from your position on the bed; forward and into nothingness.

"My love," he breathes, hands against your own warm and tight. "I am so, so sorry. I shall call for a maestre—"

"No need." Your other hand moves to your stomach. An emotion glimmers in his gaze at the movement. "My babe is strong. Blood of the dragon that he is. I know him already in my blood. Call for my maid instead. Any of them. Tell them to move my things to a different room, perhaps the one above Aegon's Garden. By morn, I will fly to Kings Landing to be with my family."

Panic fills and breaks. His hold tightens. "I-If that is what you wish, we can go as soon as Maestre Gerardys says it is alright for you and the—"

You turn to him, finally, your eyes dead of emotion. "I will go for I do not think you would like your would-be murderer to sleep beside you, haunting you with a dagger. This way, I can take advice from my mother about births and the like, and you can sleep comfortably. Do not worry, I will not poison you to your child's mind. You may visit him as you would like. You might even take comfort in knowing your mother would look for him as if he were hers. She is so very motherly, I'm sure she would enjoy a grand..."

Your words drift off as he had fallen to his knees, tears soaking your hand as he presses it to his face. You feel like the Mother, looking down on a penitent. Or the Father. Or the Stranger. You feel complete, as his apologies fall in graceless, shaky exhales and sobs. The axe is in your hand. His neck is exposed.

"—I will do anything, a-anything for your f-forgiveness. Y-You can move rooms if it comforts you, I will not s-shadow your doorway, but please. Please. Do not leave me. Anything. I will do anything."

You, and you alone, is the owner of his absolution.

You smile, despite yourself.

Maybe you should reward your grandsire after all.

TAGGED (bold means I couldn't tag you: @inkareds @marihoneywk @caterina-caterina @ahristata

#jacaerys velaryon fanfiction #jacaerys angst #hotd angst #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jace velaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon angst #jacaerys smut #hotd smut #manipulative reader #elle writes !! ꒱ ↷˗ˏˋ🍒#₊˚ପ⊹ hightower green 🕷

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venussaidso · 16 days ago

Text

𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐇𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞: 𝙆𝙚𝙩𝙪-𝙍𝙖𝙝𝙪

The absorptive, fiery nature of Ketu natives creates a heavy magnetic field around them that can attract individuals who carry a darkness within them which I will be exploring through a number of film/TV characters in this short observation.

This heightened sensitivity to unseen realms makes these natives more likely to attract intense or obsessive individuals, which interestingly, happens to be other Ketu natives or even Rahuvians. These dark, twisted creatures seem to have this natural attraction or fascination to the Ketuvian, as if they were drawn to their void. Though Claire Nakti explored this theme already in her Mula series, the astrological influence of the Big Bad Wolf in Magha's arc in Red Riding Hood piqued my interest. It came as no surprise to me that both Ketu and Rahu are tied to the twisted, evil monster or human obsessed with the Magha or Mula native.

warnings: spoilers!, mentions of abuse, murder and domestic violence.

For example, in Shadow & Bone, a Magha Sun woman shares an intense, hypnotic connection with a Ketuvian man, the Darkling, who disguises his dark true intentions, preying on her deep need for belonging (as he recognizes that need within himself too). His dangerous obsession with her, along with his dark ambitions and twisted mind, reveal him to be the "big bad wolf" in her story.

The same thing happens in Penny Dreadful (right), in which a Magha ASC woman falls for a Ketu-ruled doctor who has an affection for animals, providing her care and understanding to her wild nature, only to be revealed to be the vampire, Dracula. The Magha native sees his storage room filled with hung dead bodies, a chilling symbol of his horrifying nature. He becomes increasingly obsessed with her, his predatory instincts getting into conflict with his feelings with her.

Also, the Darkling would have made a fine addition to my thread of the power-hungry, commanding Ketu archetype, seeing as he is characterized by his ruthless ambition and desire for power, seeking to dominate the world and willing to manipulate others in order to achieve his goals.

Anyways, back to the topic.

Much like in Penny Dreadful, in Marvel's Jessica Jones, the Magha Moon woman was initially drawn to the alluring facade of a Ketu man who used his powers of persuasion to captivate her. At first, she enjoys the thrill, but then she becomes consumed by his darkness. He turns out to be a monster. And even after escaping him, his obsession and infatuation with her increases, endangering those around her.

In Crimson Peak, Thomas Sharpe is played by a Ketuvian, epitomizing the archetype of a wolf in disguise through his charming demeanor and hidden malevolence. Captivated by a Magha Moon woman, he is a sweet and kind gentleman, though beneath this façade lies a manipulative and dangerous character. He attempts to isolate her, slowly revealing himself to be the predator.

This reminded me of the film Rebecca, where a Ketu man portrays himself as this charismatic and caring gentleman much like Thomas Sharpe. His nature reveals itself to be controlling and extremely manipulative.

Another Ketu-ruled character functions exactly the same in the series Big Little Lies, portrayed by the Magha stellium native Alexander Skarsg��rd, who is a charming yet abusive husband presenting a facade of the perfect family man.

While, of course, there are positive depictions of nodal pairings in fiction, the Ketu people are just generally prone to these obsessive, dangerous energies whether the evil force is Ketu as well or not. Much like Magha Moon Julia Roberts in the film Sleeping with the Enemy, who is trapped in an abusive relationship with every aspect of her life being controlled by her husband. She plans an escape, which calls to a theme of Ketu women running away from men especially; as her character has a lot in common with Jessica Jones, Vanessa Ives (Penny Dreadful), and even Edith Cushing (Crimson Peak). All Magha natives.

Another example I wanted to add is the movie Invisible Man, directed by Mula Moon Leigh Whannell, a film about a woman who escapes from her abusive relationship with a wealthy scientist, who happens to be played by Ardra Moon Oliver Jackson-Cohen.

As you've seen and will see in this thread of examples, these Ketu characters tend to be in intense relationships with other Ketu people, and also Rahuvians, being the center of their fixation or destructive obsession. In Phantom Thread, two Ketuvians are captivated with each other and fall into a twisted relationship, the Ketu man exhibiting obsessive tendencies as he becomes increasingly controlling and possessive over the Magha Moon woman.

Circling back to Red Riding Hood, the 2011 film, starring Magha Moon Amanda Seyfried, her father is played by a Ketu native. At first, he is shown to be the loving protective figure in her life, guiding her decisions and teaching her to be cautious of the world and its evils. But then, it is revealed that he was the werewolf all along who terrorized and killed the villagers.

In Scream, the Ketu woman is instead a Mula Moon native this time. She was dating the goofy and charismatic Ketuvian boy who turned out to be one of the killers and he ultimately planned her death.

And now, this time, we have a Rahuvian who played the wolf. He, just like his Ketuvian accomplice, is portrayed as initially harmless. He comes across as caring, trustworthy and reliable, especially to the other Mula Moon native who he was dating.

In the end, both the Ketu & Rahu killers unmask themselves as the "big bad wolves".

Mula Moon Reese Witherspoon was interestingly casted in three Ketu-coded films. Freeway, inspired by the Red Riding Hood tale, depicts a friendly stranger who's portrayed by a Ketu man, offering to help her when her car breaks down on her way to her grandma's, just as the wolf tries to deceive Red in the tale. Beneath his charming facade lies a predatory and dangerous nature, as he is revealed to be a serial killer.

It is also interesting that in the film, American Psycho, she plays a character who is unknowingly dating a serial killer, played by a Ketuvian man. The movie Beast stars a Mula Sun woman who also unknowingly dates a nodal-ruled serial killer.

Then in the film Fear, this time the illusory man is a Rahuvian. He is drawn to Mula native Reese Witherspoon's character, and his true dangerous, predatory nature starts to reveal itself. His infatuation with her turns into a sick obsession, leading to a sequence of violent events.

In Split, though the wolf isn't necessarily in disguise to predate, it is interesting that Ketuvians tend to play predator-&-prey to each other.

Like in The House That Jack Built, a Magha ASC woman exemplifies the theme of the wolf in sheep's clothing in the opening scene of the movie through the character named Jack. Jack is obviously played by a Ketuvian man.

When he picks her up as a hitchhiker, he presents himself as a charming and cultured individual, engaging in a seemingly normal conversation with her while masking his true violent nature. She triggers this hideous nature within him, and she acts a catalyst to his series of murders as she's his first victim.

It is important to remember that Ketu is still a shadow planet, both Ketu and Rahu highlighting the shadowy, illusory aspects of the wolf in sheep's clothing trickery.

In the film Creep 2, there's a nod to this Red Riding Hood-&-the Wolf dynamic as the Rahuvian serial killer is known for wearing a terrifying wolf mask. As expected, much like in Freeway, the nodal killer is fascinated with the Mula native who destroys him in the end.

And in the film Beast, a Rahuvian serial killer is attracted to the Mula native, and as they date each other, she finds out his true nature. She's able to debilitate him just so that she can end his life.

Ardra serial killer in Creep 2.

Similar to the Mula serial killer in Freeway, a Mula Moon serial killer, in Netflix's new film Don't Move, comes off as an extremely friendly, kind and helpful stranger who creates a safe space just to trap his victim. Another wolf in disguise played by a nodal man.

In the series You, a Mula Moon woman becomes an object of obsession for a Rahuvian man. She dates him not knowing of his truly sick, possessive nature until he destroys her.

It is interesting that another Mula Moon woman in the series is the one to go head-to-head with the nodal killer, deceiving him as she's the one to portray herself as the wolf in disguise just as he did too.

This is shown again in Once Upon a Time, in which Red Riding Hood, played by a Magha Sun woman, turns out to be the wolf after all. All this time, she's been unknowingly turning into a werewolf on a full moon, killing villagers in her wolf form.

In the series The Acolyte, Magha Sun Manny Jacinto plays Qimir who portrays himself as an unassuming, harmless smuggler and trader who appears to hold no grand ambitions. He uses a calm, almost alluring personality to create a sense of reliability, only to be revealed as the antagonist of the story in a murder spree scene as the Sith Lord.

Ardra Sun, Ardra Moon Wagner Moura voices the Big Bad Wolf (DEATH) in Puss in Boots: The Last Wish.

Usually playing charming, sometimes sympathetic, evil or morally grey characters, nodal natives seem to fit into this archetype the best; as the shadow planets Rahu and Ketu come off as extremely magnetizing and illusory more than any other planetary type. This consuming quality they have makes them convincing to others with their lies and illusions, just as they are convincing as the scary monsters or captivating antiheros.

The character Kai Parker is played by an Ashwini Sun native in The Vampire Diaries. He feigns remorse and uses charm to hide his predatory intentions. His duplicity is shown when he pretends to bond with Bonnie, when they were trapped together in the 1994 prison world. He creates a false sense of safety around him only to then later reveal his true schemes. He does this a couple of times, evoking sympathy for a hidden agenda.

The character Loki could be fitting under this wolf in disguise archetype. In Thor (2011), he portrays himself as the underestimated younger brother, while quietly harbouring resentment for his brother and hiding his thirst for power. In the film, he not only backstabs Thor, but he ultimately leads Laufey to his death after striking an alliance with him (turned out to be one of his tricks).

This reminded me of Dr. Facilier, voiced by an Ashwini Moon native, who tricks and deceives Prince Naveen, seeking to gain power and control. He initially portrayed himself as a helpful ally, only to become another deceptive wolf in disguise.

And the character Ursula was played by a Magha Sun, Ardra Moon native in the Little Mermaid remake; she quite literally does the same as Dr Facilier to the naive Ariel who is portrayed by Mula Moon Halle Bailey. The cartoon version of Ursula is voiced by Ardra Moon Pat Carroll.

In Last Night in Soho, a Rahuvian man is portrayed to be suave and charismatic, luring an Ashwini native into his dangerous world which leads to her tragic victimization when his predatory manipulative nature is revealed.

In the 1991 film Deceived, a Mula ASC woman discovers that all this time she has been married to a literal wolf. It is revealed, after his death, that her husband killed a man whose name he took. Another twist is revealed that he faked his own death, and he comes after her. Her husband is Ketuvian himself, of course.

Another similar film, called Double Jeopardy, in which an Ashwini Sun woman discovers that her Rahuvian husband faked his own death just to frame her.

In the series Wilderness (2023), Ashwini Sun Jenna Coleman portrays a woman who's married to a deceitful Rahu man who turns out to be the opposite person of who she thought she fell in love with.

It is interesting, and ironic, as the one who is truly victimized by all of this is the Mula Sun woman that her husband was having an affair with. The Ashwini native becomes the wolf in disguise here when she deceives her husband back, and when she stalks and approaches the Mula woman, ultimately being the one behind her death.

Going back to the Ketuvian being obsessed with the Magha native, in this example, it is a Mula Moon, Ashwini Sun native being the object of obsession. In the Beauty & the Beast live-action, Gaston portrays himself as the quintessential hero, and it is his obsession with Belle that reveals his darkness.

His aggression and his resort to intimidation and manipulation to win her over highlights his cruelty and entitlement.

I may continue this with another nakshatra lord influence, as it seems that Moon nakshatra natives experience the same themes. As they already fill in the final girl archetype too, after Ketu nakshatras, it doesn't come as a surprise at all since all three planetary influences (Moon-Rahu-Ketu) made it into my vampirism post. It makes sense that these planetary types are linked to vampires, as vampires are illusory creatures who are known to mask their true predatory nature; fitting all too well in the wolf in disguise trope, as they are predators who appear human and can very well blend in normal society.

The song Haunted was sang by Amy Lee from Evanescence. She has Ketu in the 1H. She mentioned that the song was partly inspired by the concept of feeling watched or followed, which connects with her fascination for eerie themes and darker emotions. I find it fitting under my post as these Ketu-ruled natives attract stalkers, killers, and frightening creatures in their dangerously magnetic field.

More examples of this Ketu archetype, as I seem to have reached the picture limit.

And also. Found this Ketuvian analogy. So I'm right.

#vedic astrology #astrology #sidereal astrology #astro observations #vedic observations #ardra #ashwini #swati #magha #shatabhisha #mula #aries #gemini #leo #libra #aquarius #sagitarrius #Spotify

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irondad-creator-awards · 3 months ago

Text

And The Finalists Are... Part 2

The 2024 Story Finalists Are Now All Bookmarked And Added To The Collection - Or Permission Requested

Best Identity Reveal

All I've Waited For (Where You Belonged) By Jaworley

Coffee, Interns, And Other Mysteries By Sabertoothhousecat

Coincidentally— By Bergen

Dark Matter By Mysterycyclone

Let Us Handle Them Carefully By Sara (Ctrsara)

Best Kidnapping

Below The Surface By Olliecollie

How To Catch A Spider-Man Sara (Ctrsara)

I Know My Name (It's All I Know For Sure) By Jaworley

The Hoax By Happyaspie

When The Days Blur By Inkinmyheartandonthepage

Best Bonus Bond

Dark Matter By Mysterycyclone

Hierarchy Of Needs By Bergen

Take Me By The Hand (I Miss You) By Jaworley

Unexpected Uncle By Shootothrill

Unofficial Si Lemonade Business By Happyaspie

Best Humor

Coffee, Interns, And Other Mysteries By Sabertoothhousecat

Hierarchy Of Needs) By Bergen

Ned Leeds' Beginner's Guide To Faking Sick By Happyaspie

Sorta Kinda Kidnapped By Happyaspie

The Spider And The Frog By Olliecollie

Best Wild Card Story

An Unexpected Reunion By Sara (Ctrsara)

Dark Matter By Mysterycyclone

Lies Of Omission By Bergen

The Hoax By Happyaspie

Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spider By Bergen

Best AU

A Sky Full Of Stars By Olliecollie

Dark Matter By Mysterycyclone

Leap Of Faith (Catch Me, If You Can) By Alighterwood & Erinwantstowrite

Lies Of Omission By Bergen

The Spiderman And The Frog By Bergen

Best Series

Autistic Peter Parker By Marvellousbutterfly

Finding The Way Home By Peacockgirl

Identity Saga By Kitcat992

More Than An Intern By Jaworley

S.I. Security Team By Blasphemmky

Strands In The Rope By Sara (Ctrsara)

The Meaning Of Inevitable By Mendeia

All Time Favorite Award

Copycat By Olliecollie

Identity Saga By Kitcat992

Leap Of Faith (Catch Me, If You Can) By Erinwantstowrite & Alighterwood

Survivor's Guide To The Galaxyf] By Fanfic1892

The Teenage Vigilante's Guide To Saving New York (And Making Friends Along The Way) By Candlesneedflame

The 2023/2024 Favorite

A Sky Full Of Stars By Olliecollie

Broken Mirrors And Fragile Things By Evienyx

Deadpool's Guide To Accidental Kidnapping By Inkinmyheartandonthepage

The One Where Tony Gets A Father's Day Card From Peter By Thatonefinnishfangirl

Until You Set Your Old Heart Free By Bluesweatshirt

NOTE: Sorry for the split posts. Tumblr wouldn't let us post as one.

#Irondad Creator Awards 2024 #iron man #irondad and spiderson #spider-man #spider son #irondad creator awards #art #fandom awards #fanfic #irondad #spider man

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authorhjk1 · 3 months ago

Note

Hi writer-nim, I'm no detective, but since checking out and enjoying your colour series I'll take a wild guess though I may be wrong lol but the one with the * has to somewhat be RV related since the first two stories about it are connected but the secret lies in the characters mentioned during the first one with Irene and since Seulgi showed up in the second one I guess the remaining members would show up then (I hope) but since Yeri was already written in black I hope you could make another one of her in this? She looked amazing here I guess this counts as purple even though she has a white dress inside lol but the outfit sure is tempting since it looks so easy to rip off everything from her, I mean who doesn't want to see maknae tiddies being cared for while bouncing up and down all over your face. But its ok if you can't make one more of her, however you can make this for a future piece if you feel like it. Have a nice day.

https://kpopping.com/documents/c9/4/1200/240405-Red-Velvet-Yeri-Coach-Pop-Up-Opening-Event-documents-4.jpeg?v=c62fd

https://kpopping.com/documents/36/1/1200/240405-Red-Velvet-Yeri-Coach-Pop-Up-Opening-Event-documents-2.jpeg?v=3cf88

Purple

(Kim Yeri X Male Reader)

You take your tie out of Yeri's hand. The bottom part is already soaked. Looking down on her, you see her phone in the other hand. A picture of you is on the screen.

"Are you going to punish me?"

Yeri's mischievous grin awakens something dark within you. Punishing her is something you've always wanted to do. To wipe that satisfied smile off her face, by totally ruining her body.

"Or are you gonna rat me out to Irene unnie?"

But then again, that's exactly what Yeri wants. And you don't want to give in so easily. Her cheeks are still showing a hint of red, after you've just caught her in the act. Of course you knew what was going on inside her room, when you saw her thong dangle on her doorknob.

"Do you think Irene would like it, if I told her you touch yourself to a picture of me?"

You hold up your tie.

"And use this as well?"

"You don't have any proof."

Her victorious, teasing smile makes a fire burn inside of you. She manages to piss you off and turn you on at the same time. After Seulgi, Joy and Wendy all slept with you, you expected Yeri to eventually follow in their footsteps. You just didn't expect she would actually touch herself, thinking about you. It turns you on more, thinking about how often she could've already done this.

"So what? You want to pretend to be a bad girl?"

Yeri stands up, the top of her head barely reaching your chin.

"I am a bad girl. And what do bad girls like I get.... daddy?"

She whispered that last word. And she watches you with amusement in her eyes as she waits for a reaction.

Just like the other three, Yeri doesn't know that Irene is allowing you to sleep with them. She really wants to be a bad girl. To seduce someone else's boyfriend. Even if it's Irene. The thrill of finally getting what she wants rushes through her veins.

"No."

Yeri's face falls, when she hears your rejection. She expected you to kiss her, or to grab her by her throat and and tell her how bad she really is, or run to Irene and tell her about this. She didn't expect a cold rejection.

"But-"

Before she can finish her complaint, you grab her shoulders and turn her around. You push her onto the bed and Yeri hits the mattress she was sitting on just now. With her face buried in her sheets, you straddle her legs and place your hands on her ass.

"You're not a bad girl, Yeri."

Using your tie, you first put both her hands on her back, before tying her wrists together.

"You're just a pathetic brat."

You hear a muffled moan at your words. Seems like you hit a nerve.

"I will punish you. And then, I'm gonna make sure you won't act up again. Understood?"

Yeri slightly lifts her head to give you a nod. When you reach for the purple fabric, you lick your lips. Time to claim the last Red Velvet member. You can't believe you're actually getting to fuck all of them. With new found strength, you rip Yeri's dress off her body. Another moan into the sheets follows a surprised gasp.

You expose her ass by tearing the purple dress open further and bunching up the white one around her waist. Her white cheeks instinctively make you deliver a hard slap. You don't even take your time to properly admire her body.

Moan after moan leaves Yeri's mouth as you strike her again and again. Within a matter of minutes both her cheeks show a fiery red. Her moans start to turn into sobs.

"Do you want me to keep punishing you?"

You slowly place a hand on her right cheek, which makes her flinch, before you slowly let it travel inside the gap between her thighs.

"Or do you want me to use you?"

You don't give her another option. Yeri's doesn't deserve just sex. The way she acts makes it clear that the only way she is useful is by being used.

"D-Daddy,"

Her voice is still shaking a little. Especially when you let your fingertips graze her wet labia. Her breath hitches.

"P-Please use me. I promise I'll be a good toy."

You squint your eyes in suspicion. It seems like you managed to turn her around faster than you expected. Or she is just putting up an act.

"Turn around, little brat."

Your mocking tone makes Yeri listen and she quickly does what you tell her. She is now lying on her back and you can see her face now. A mixture of satisfaction and anticipation. As if this is what she expected, but she didn't think you would go this far? You don't really care at this point. You only care about that cute pussy underneath her purple dress. Since it's almost completely see through, you can already see it. And because you ripped open her dress earlier, you can now just push the useless fabric to the side, revealing her pink lips.

Usually, you would've leaned down and started to eat her out. And she does look delicious, no doubt about it. But you want to make a point. That you are the one who controls her and not the other way around.

You gather some of your saliva in your mouth, before you spit onto her pussy. Yeri gasps at your lewd, almost rude, actions and you push yourself inside of her.

Soon, she is a mewling mess. Her loud cries echo through the dorm, which Irene is probably able to hear. By now, you've basically folded her in half, her ankles to her ears and your face close to hers as you drive yourself into her depths again and again.

"D-Daddy! I-I-I'm-"

Your powerful thrusts and her incoming orgasm makes her tongue and mouth useless. Her brain can't comprehend what's going for a second, before the climax rushes through her. Her body shakes underneath you, eyes rolling to the back of her head.

You grab a fistful of her hair, once she is finished. You manage to stay inside of her as you lie down on the bed yourself and make Yeri straddle you.

"Alright, little brat. Ride me and make me cum. Or I will only punish you from now on. Without the sex."

Yeri's eyes grow wide with fear and a moment later, she starts bouncing on your cock. Her hands hold onto your chest, her eyes are closed as she takes as much of you as she can. She still feels to well dressed for your taste. You reach upwards and grab the purple fabric once more. Yeri watches with big eyes as you tear her dress open again, right above her chest. You only need to pull at the white one a little bit and suddenly, Yeri's tits bounce freely to the rhythm of her riding. You use both hands to play with her soft flesh, enjoying her slick pussy around your cock and her mounds in your hands. When you start to play with her nipples a little more, Yeri throws her head back in pleasure, letting out louder moans.

"You have some nice tits, little brat."

Girls like Yeri always pretend to be bad girls, but they usually love to get praised. You feel it working when Yeri picks up the pace. Pulling her upper body a little more towards you, you capture on of her nipples with your mouth. You greedily suck on both of them individually, switching at random intervals.

Yeri is a moaning mess on top of you. Her hands, which are still tied together, are pressing onto your chest for support as she loses herself in the world of pleasure. Just like you. Your hands have travelled from her tits to her sore ass cheeks. Your mouth still licking and biting her soft skin. You start to pull her onto your cock with more force.

"Fuck, you really are a bad girl."

You say between licks as you feel her pussy squeezing and massaging your cock.

Yeri moans louder and you give her a couple of more spanks, which make her shake.

But you stop after a couple, because your own orgasm overwhelms you. You hold her in place as you thrust upwards, cuming deep inside her cunt. Yeri moans and whines, feeling your cum fill her insides.

#ask #anon #kpop #kpop smut #kpop girls #kpop gg #male reader #red velvet #red velvet yeri #red velvet smut #kim yerim #yeri smut #yeri

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tin-wufborf · 5 months ago

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Tin's Favorite Sterek Fics (Part 1)

Okay, so listen. A few months back, I mentioned the possibility of me doing a rec list of all the Sterek fics I like to re-read (basically my comfort library), right? Well, it turns out that what I thought was going to be a list of, like, 50 fics max is now, far, far, far, FAR longer than that to the point that I don't actually even have a number to provide due to the fact that I still finding more and more to add to the list. I really hate the idea putting them all in a single post--as someone who primarily engages with this site via it's mobile app, I personally find super long lists harder to navigate, especially when you lose your place and have to start from the top--soooo, I have decided to instead release my recommendations in a series of posts containing 15-20 fics/series each instead of dumping the whole library on you at once. This post marks the first of (almost certainly) many, so I hope you all enjoy!

List and links to next parts below the cut.

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DISCLAIMER: This is me warning you all that some of the fics I've included in this list may cover explicit, dark, and/or "taboo" subject matters. I cannot express enough how little I care what anyone thinks about any of that; all I want is for you to use caution when reading anything I've listed here and to please review and heed whatever tags the authors have provided in order to keep yourselves safe. Your experience from this point on is your own responsibility, not mine and not the authors'.

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The Boy Who Loved Wolves by orphan_account (NR | 1/1 | 1,522)

Stiles always loved the tamed wolves his tribe used for hunting. When he finds himself face-to-face with an actual wolf, an alpha no less, how will it change him? And how will his tribe react to his change? Based on Paul Goble's The Girl Who Loved Wild Horses.

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Will of the Weakness by Cheshyr (G | 1/1 | 2,248)

Whenever Derek threw Stiles into walls, he always assumed that the teenager didn't fight because he couldn't. Not once did he consider the possibility that Stiles was holding back.

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Making a Memory by beenwandering (M | 1/1 | 2,702)

Stiles was prepared for what would come after the bite. He knew what to expect and, despite his worries, he was ready for his new life. Apparently very ready. Or, “that one where Stiles can’t be anything other than Stiles, even when he’s a wolf."

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A Cottage in the Woods by FaeryQueen07 (G | 1/1 | 2,960)

“There’s a cottage,” Stiles’ mother says, and then she presses a kiss to his forehead before turning off the light.

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Tell Me, Are My Words Worth Less? by Cheshyr (G | 1/1 | 3,830)

Stiles is proud of his words. He loves to talk and tell and share and speak. And he absolutely, deep in his soul, hates his stutter.

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Little Lion Man by lyllytas (T | 1/1 | 5,029)

Sheriff Stilinski has just been fired from his job and is at a loss for his son's recent behavior. All he wants is the truth, so when Stiles comes to him with another crazy story, he's had enough of the jokes and lies. Unfortunately for him, this time Stiles was telling the truth. And Derek Hale is very protective of his pack.

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Love in the Groves series by Sheepnamedpig (3 works | T-E | 5,706)

1. The Oak Tree (E | 1/1 | 1,533) A forest spirit decides to take up residence in Derek's forest. 2. The Cherry Tree (E | 1/4 | 2,170) Derek and Stiles get married. And then they get married again. 3. The Ash Grove (T | 1/1 | 2,003) Stiles gets sick. Derek watches him carve the infection out.

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Knotting Expectations by chase_acow (E | 1/1 | 5,722)

Stiles gets an eyeful and suddenly getting up close and personal to a werewolf is all he can think about.

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go home, or make a home by lady_ragnell (T | 1/1 | 7,437)

In a world where Derek lets Scott kill the Alpha and get the cure, he has to figure out how to rebuild his life, with help from Stiles.

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Communication (And the Lack Thereof) by ProofOfConcept, wilddragonflying (M | 1/1 | 7,687)

Sheriff Stilinski has been waiting for this day for a long time. As he watches his visitor walking up the path, he thinks about everything that's happened in the past year and his fingers twitch for his gun. But he can't do that; he can't shoot this man, as much as he might like to sometimes. Maybe he can go one worse, though.

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Integral to Survival by placeholdr (M | 1/1 | 8,529)

Derek is in the cell for about ten minutes before the lone door opens and a new body is tossed in. The person hits the floor with a grunt, rolls, and stands as the door is clanging shut.

“That’s really not the way to treat a guest!”

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Ten Weeks by scarletsptember (T | 1/1 | 10,024)

They say no news is good news at a doctor's office. The news Stiles gets changes everything.

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adore to see your eyes fly by 1001cranes (E | 1/1 | 11,309)

stiles is a pyromanic, derek is a sociopath. a match made in some kind of heaven. teen wolf kink meme fill.

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Blood and Bonds by ProofOfConcept, wilddragonflying (NR | 1/1 | 20,595)

Stiles wants to lose his virginity, so Derek sets him up with a nice female werewolf at a pack mixer. Nine months later, the pack gets a rather stark reminder, and with it comes realizations, feeeeelings, and danger.

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Heat of the Moment by ProofOfConcept, wilddragonflying (T | 1/1 | 21,320)

I'm the alpha now.

Derek never wanted the alpha power. But now he could feel the alpha power thrumming through his veins, calling to him and the those it considered pack.

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The Wolfvengers (Are Not A '90s Boyband) series by someonelsesheart (2 works | T | 23,152)

1. Angry Birds Is Not Meant To Be Taken Literally (T | 3/3 | 12,917) Derek gets that he and Stiles are kind of on a Need To Know basis, he really does, he just thinks that Stiles' godfather being in the freaking Avengers counts as pretty Need To Know. 2. The Captain America Law (T | 3/3 | 10,235) For the record, Derek is not very fond of talking about feelings, up to and including discussing his personal life, anything that has to do with Stiles, That Time With The High Heels, and games that include having to convey feelings. On a completely unrelated note, who knew that Tony Stark owned a sexy nurse's costume?

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An Exercise in Trust by ProofOfConcept, wilddragonflying (M | 1/1 | 25,529)

Derek Hale hasn't been able to hold a steady job for quite some time, thanks to his past. When an ad is posted for a babysitting job, Derek(thanks to his experience with his large extended family) jumps at the chance to maybe start rebuilding his life.

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hyper heart alone by hito (E | 1/1 | 34,570)

When Stiles returns home to help his father recover from an injury, he discovers that things have changed somewhat in his absence: Derek is working closely with Stiles' father, around the house and underfoot, generally annoying and disconcerting Stiles with his presence.

Well, Stiles isn't sure you could call all the sex they end up having annoying, but he isn't really willing to call it anything else, either.

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By and By series by 1001cranes (3 works | T-E | 35,611)

1. hear his alibis (T | 1/1 | 6,628) creepy never looked so cute - or, how Sheriff Stiles accidentally adopted a juvenile offender. (another) pyromaniac au. 2. multiplied by seven (E | 9/9 | 26,340) Derek isn't exactly like other people. Stiles doesn't say that because he's in love with him, or whatever. He's not like Scott, who thinks Allison hung the freaking moon, or was the first girl to ever let a guy under her bra. Derek isn't like other people. Sometimes he's not exactly sane. psychopaths in love - the story from Derek & Stiles's side. companion fic to 'hear his alibis' 3. up to the highest high (E | 1/1 | 2,643) Kate takes a day to think it over, to plan her attack. She's good on her feet, but a little preplanning never hurt anyone. And if she's going to make Derek bleed, well - she needs just the right weapon. The right words. A thousand little pinpricks and cuts, because Derek isn't the type you can cut off at the knees so easily. You have to look for that dark, hidden place to plant a seed of doubt, and Kate? Kate's good at that. "He wants to be with a girl," she says. Like poisoned honey. "Or he doesn't not want it, am I right?" You think that curiosity won't get the better of him one day?" She's got her hands on him when she says it. She feels the beating of his heart, the firmness of his pectoral muscles, because, hey, this is precisely the way she swings. And Derek might keep it pretty well tucked up under his cap, but he doesn't exactly hate the female persuasion himself. Or at least he's attracted to them. Same difference in the end. "Better the devil you know," she says, and from the way Derek's gaze narrows she's got a feeling she's won.

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Blood in the Water, Fire in the Sky: A Love Story series by ahab2692 (7 works | E | 69,750)

1. God, How Things Change (E | 1/1 | 9,056) After killing Peter Hale, Derek and Stiles have to deal with the aftermath: Scott doesn't want to forgive Derek for taking away his chance for the cure, Jackson struggles with adjusting to his newfound powers, and Lydia remains in a coma. Derek has his own demons to wrestle, and the more time he spends with Stiles, the less sure he is that he'll be able to control himself.

2. The World Spins, Regardless (E | 1/1 | 11,006) Stiles helps Derek expand his pack, and the two of them take steps forward in their newfound relationship. Meanwhile, new enemies arrive in the form of a dangerous pack of werewolves from a nearby town, as well as a pair of mysterious hunters with an unknown agenda. (Sequel to "God, How Things Change.") 3. Cracks in the Foundations (E | 1/1 | 10,107) Preparing for the oncoming war with an aggressive werewolf clan, Derek and Stiles make efforts to secure their friends' safety. Derek put the pack through a rigorous training regimen, and Stiles convinces him to form a temporary alliance with the Argents. However, no one is able to foresee a shocking loss that has a devastating effect on the pack's stability. (Sequel to "The World Spins, Regardless.") 4. The Wicker Throne and the Werewolf King (E | 1/1 | 11,241) Stiles and Lydia travel to a distant mining outpost in the woods to try and kill the Alpha of the rival pack. Meanwhile, Derek and Chris Argent struggle to ensure the safety of the pack in the aftermath of Stiles' recent loss. (Sequel to "Cracks in the Foundations.") 5. Conversation (and Carnage) (E | 1/1 | 9,096) Stiles attempts to negotiate with the Alpha. Derek attempts to negotiate with Meredith Wakefield. Hidden agendas lie beneath the surface. Everything is not as it seems. (Sequel to "The Wicker Throne and the Werewolf King.") 6. ...And Hell Followed With Him (E | 1/1 | 10,080) Stiles emerges victorious as the new Alpha. Derek and Chris Argent launch their attack on Meredith Wakefield. Stiles and Lydia return home. (Sequel to "Conversation (and Carnage).") 7. God, How Things Change (Redux) (E | 1/1 | 9,164) Stiles and Derek pay a visit to their last remaining enemy. The pack recovers in the aftermath. Everything ends. Everything begins. (Sequel to "...And Hell Followed With Him".)

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#teen wolf #sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #sterek fic rec list #sterek fic rec #fic rec list #rec list #fic rec #tin's rec lists

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sorreltail · 13 days ago

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here’s my timeline, spanning from the autumn of 1997 when bluestar was born to the summer of 2004 when fire and ice ends. I love being autistic. It’s not complete.

it is mostly focusing on spottedleaf and mousefur’s lives and trying to figure out their timelines, because the “bluestar leadership pre-ITW” 2 year period is like a dumping ground of vague darkness where every single thunderclan historical event gets sent to die. sometime during that is when a bunch of warriors get disabled, renamed and sent to the elders den. that’s also when thistleclaw dies. I do not respect novella canon btw. those things r full of lies

one thing the timeline has revealed to me that i am very fond of is redtail and bluestar. he became a warrior at the same time as she became deputy, after a very short apprenticeship. he’s given mousefur as an apprentice almost instantly after becoming a warrior. he’s only like 6 months older than her and he’s only had 6 months of apprentice training and no warrior experience! but he does a good job. and clearly bluefur sees something in him. within the year she’s leader with him as her deputy. her right hand man :)

literally a month or two before rusty shows up is a massive plague that kills 7 cats total, including featherwhisker, so spottedleaf only becomes the sole medicine cat at this point. she receives what’s probably her first prophecy (fire alone) and then her brother gets murdered to death and she is dead too within six months. a short and crazy career for her and honestly no wonder she became obsessed with being like a spirit mentor to fireheart. can u imagine if u got the prophecy for the chosen one and then ur like oh boy i JUST got promoted to being the leader of the church around here and it’s my job to guide the chosen one? and then u get murdered. And ur like. Was that really my life’s work. it can’t be over. That was too important. anyway

my main 2 resources for this are the timeline on the warriors wiki, which has its own firestar-as-jesus style of dating … YBF=years before firestar . I love it. Then there’s kate carys timeline which sets Into The Wild into 2003, the year it was published. I love that too. It feels right. I merged those, so if you’re on the warriors wiki, 1YBF is 2002, 2YBF is 2001, etc . 1997 is 6YBF. 2004 is year 2. i supplemented the available info from the blog and wiki with my own research in the books. I favoured earlier and main series canon over later and novella canon, though super editions like bluestar’s prophecy and crookedstar’s promise took precedence over TPB where I felt the info made more sense. there are almost certainly fuckups. Some stuff I couldn’t find any canon mention of so I just put it where it logically would’ve had to go.

yeahhh so that’s basically that. it’s something ive got as a supplemental thing for my spottedmouse writing and drawing. Always working on it.

#warrior cats #my art #timeline

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thefallennightmare · 4 months ago

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The Coyotes Cry-Two

*gif made by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: MafiaBoss!TattooArtist! Noah Sebastian x OFC.

Warnings/Tropes: reverse harem/why chose in most parts of this story, violence, death, swearing, angst, fluff, forced proximity, forbidden love, dark romance, mafia themes, arranged marriage, tattoo artist, smut(very mature: P in V unprotected, masturbation, oral with male and female receiving, dry humping, knife play, blood play, period sex, Dom! Noah, mask play, choking, degradation, fingering, hand jobs, voyeurism, public sex, reverse harem which means one woman with multiple partners, sometimes together.)

Summary: Saoirse "Scar" McManus's life is turned upside down when her father and uncle marry her off to Noah Sebastian, the Ruler of The Concrete Jungle and Leader of OMNS, her old high school crush. A marriage based on secrets and lies comes back to destroy OMNS and The Concrete Jungle from within. When Scar has no choice but to step foot into the The Grey looking for help, she realizes the price of love comes in a nest full of darkness.

Authors Note: Well after four months, we FINALLY have an update! It is a very long one so buckle up. This series will have mature themes throughout as a warning! This one probably wont be updated nearly as quick as JP will be. Maybe once JP is finished, I'll have more time to update this one!

*I do not own the rights/names of Connor and Murphy McManus. Or anyone mentioned to the Boondock Saints.

Tags[CLOSED]: @sammyjoeee @happi-goth @lma1986 @iknownothingpeople @vinyardmauro @malice-ov-mercy @wheezybrenda @thisbicc @malerieee @mrs-zimmerman @srorgana1 @miserylovescompany1195-blog @embracethereaper42 @lizzieseveride @eclipseeetop @sundamariis @calleyx13 @krisslee18 @princessgh0st @aprosiacperson @xxrainstorm @ourdiabolikal-rapture @iamamatus @klutzy-kay24 @bngurngheart @idwt-money @rain-down-on-me @themodern-daywednesday @oxythoughtin7715 @cncohshit @bleachampion @xserenax-13 @collidewiththesavannah @karenfranco @amelia-acero @tashka @themortaljessica @shayzillaaaa @badomensls @princesspeach-00 @blueskylinesx @shadowseve @sorrowsofsilence @shilohrosechicken @flowery-mess @itsafullmoon @toospooktocute @respectfulrebel @pathion @supersquirrel1996 @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelosmal @lma1986 @dsireland86 @wild-child-7747 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @thatchickwiththecamera @whenthesummerdies @madomens

SCAR

Everything was so fucked.

How was my life bartered for a way of peace without my consent?

I understand it was something I had to do, for the family. But surely there had to be another way, right?

Wrong, if there was you wouldn’t be standing next to Noah Sebastian in an elevator as he was about to show you your new home. Not to mention, sharing a bed with him.

I nearly fell onto my ass when he told me that there was only one bedroom in his penthouse and we would be sharing a bed. I grumbled at my thoughts, crossing my arms over my chest; something Noah picked up on with a raised brow.

“Everything alright?”

“No,” I scoffed while facing him in the small elevator. “Everything is not alright. I have to get married to you without a choice, I have to share a bed with you, and not to mention, you just told me I have to work in your tattoo shop. In a matter of minutes, my entire life changed!”

My screechy voice echoed in the small confines of the elevator and Noah leaned against the back wall with a smirk on his face.

“You think this is funny?” I scoffed while crossing my arms over my chest. “My free will is gone and you’re laughing.”

Suddenly, his face sobered as he stood tall, with dark eyes staring down at me through even darker tendrils of hair.

“Let me make one thing clear, Scar. You have free will. You can come and go as you please but need to return. Just because we’re going to be married that doesn't mean you’re signing your life away.”

I blinked, mouth agape. “Scar?”

“I like it,” Noah shrugged as if he really didn’t see the problem with shortening my name.

“And if I don’t like it?” I still had my arms crossed but now I had my left hip popped out, showcasing the attitude I’ve had since birth.

Something flashed in his eyes just as the elevator doors behind me opened.

“Too bad, it stays,” he muttered before grabbing my bags and walking past me.

Turning slowly on my heels, I noticed that the elevator opened to a vast darkness, Noah’s footsteps echoing. I didn’t move, not even when he turned on the bright lights showcasing his large penthouse.

Our large penthouse, I corrected myself.

Slowly stepping off the elevator, I peered around my new surroundings. Currently, I was standing in the foyer, and to my left was a long hallway that I assumed led to the bedrooms. To my right was a wall that had two large bookcases built into it. I quickly made a mental note to browse Noah’s large collection and then took a few tentative steps into the open space before me.

It was an open concept of a kitchen and living room combo. To the left was the kitchen and I sucked in a breath at the gorgeous design. Black cabinets with gold fixtures. A kitchen island in the middle big enough to fit two Thanksgiving dinner spreads. I noticed that he didn’t have a dining room table, only eight stools that lined the kitchen island.

The living room was simple with a large forest green sectional couch, a fireplace, and a large television above it. Although it was still nicely decorated with fine things, there was still an empty feeling that crept over my bones.

“I find it hard to believe that this huge place only has one bedroom,” I said with my hands on my hips.

Noah, who was leaning his lower half onto the back of the couch with his arms over his chest, gave me a sly smirk.

“I never said there was only one bedroom.”

I stared at him with wide eyes. “So then why do I have to share a bed with you?”

He pushed himself up so he could look down at me. “There are three rooms. Besides our bedroom, one is my office, and the other is locked up. No one goes in there.”

“Are you hiding dead bodies in there?” I teased with a raised brow.

“No, that's what the room underneath the shop is for,” Noah deadpanned.

My lips parted, mimicking a fish, as the words died on my tongue. I knew given his line of work that Noah undoubtedly killed people. The rumors around town told me. I did my best to not be involved in my father's and uncle's nefarious dealings, but every so often my uncle would bring me in during one of their meetings, much to my father's dismay. My uncle thought I needed to know the inner workings of the Irish mob since I would take over one day. While my father didn’t want that for me. He wanted me to stay in the family home and continue to turn a blind eye to everything.

In the meetings I was brought in on, many of the men who worked under the McManus twins would tell them everything they knew about OMNS; which wasn’t a lot. Noah had done a fantastic job of keeping his dealings quiet, that was until recently when his friend Vincent showed up on his doorstep dead. After that, Noah made it his mission to find out who killed him by kidnapping my family's level drug dealers for information. None gave anything up until recently when Barry somehow managed to get OMNS a meeting with my family. If it wasn’t for that kid, maybe I wouldn’t be in this situation right now.

I never fucking liked that kid.

Every time Noah’s name was brought up in those meetings, my stomach would flutter and my heart would hammer hard in my chest; exactly like in high school. From the moment my eyes landed on him freshman year, I knew that would sink his teeth in. We never ran in the same circles but when they did cross, I was rudely reminded by my mother of the reason why during graduation when she caught me staring at Noah from across the gym.

“Saorsie, stop ogling that boy. The Sebastian men are only trouble, he will hurt you the first chance he gets.”

I rolled my eyes. “I wasn’t ogling him, mom.”

She grasped my chin, forcing me to look at her. “I’m serious, stay away from Noah Sebastian. You’re too good for him, he would only lower your stature.”

I took those words my mom said to heart because I knew Noah didn’t feel the same. The only time he ever looked at me was with distaste because of our family's long-standing history. The McManus and Sebastian rivalry would be told in the history books one day but now it seemed as if the rivalry had ended with or upcoming unions.

To keep the peace.

“So the wedding.”

My eyes snapped up from admiring Noah’s long legs. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I figured you’d want to plan it since you didn’t get a say in the groom,” he jeered while stuffing his hands deep into his pockets.

“Honestly, I’d be fine going to the courthouse and signing the needed paperwork. Get this over with,” I admitted.

This made Noah’s usual stone face falter, his eyes softening. “If that’s what you want, Scar. I’ll make an appointment first thing tomorrow.”

Clearing my throat, I stood up straighter after grabbing my bags. “Can you show me to our room? I’d like to unpack and go to sleep. It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah-,” Noah’s words were cut off by his phone ringing which he pulled out of his pants pocket.

His brows furrowed at the caller's I.D and when I peaked down at it, my heart dropped into my stomach.

“Who’s Lana?” I asked, my voice thick with jealousy.

His eyes flicked up from underneath his long lashes, a foxy smile playing on his lips.

Those lips that I’d been craving to taste ever since freshman year.

“She’s my assistant,” Noah informed.

“Does your assistant always text you this late?”

He brushed a loose strand of my fiery red hair behind my ear and chuckled. “Nothing is going on between Lana and I. She’s dating one of the artists in my shop. She was letting me know that my morning meeting was canceled.”

My mouth formed an ‘O’ shape and I suddenly threw a thumb over my shoulder. “I think I’m going to get my stuff unpacked and head to bed.”

“Come on, I’ll show you-.”

Suddenly the elevator to his penthouse made a loud ding before the doors opened, revealing a man I didn’t recognize.

Noah, who was still towering over me, snapped his head up and his shoulders fell.

“Jesse? What’s going on?”

The man, Jesse, brushed back the curls from his face and sighed. “We need you at Limits. There’s a problem.”

My eyes bounced between the two men. “Limits?”

Noah ran a hand over the few hairs that peppered his jawline. “My nightclub.”

“I didn’t know you owned a nightclub,” I said.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Scar,” he shrugged with an indifferent look in his eyes before glancing back to Jesse. “Can you handle it? It’s why I made you the manager so you can deal with these kinds of things when I’m not there.”

Jesse hesitated for a long beat, his gaze flicking to me before settling on Noah. “You know I usually do, Noah. But there’s someone that is refusing to leave unless they talk to you.”

“Have Ash force them out,” Noah sighed while pinching his eyes shut.

“It’s Vincent’s sister. She wants an update.”

His body went rigid, hands dropping to his sides, and I felt my heart drop slightly at that name.

Vincent.

Noah’s friend who was murdered.

“You should go,” I spoke softly after a few long moments of silence.

Eventually, Noah nodded and he caught the jacket Jesse threw him mid-air, slipping it over his thick shoulders.

“I won’t be long, I promise,” he assured me.

Suddenly, all of the anger I felt about my situation faded, knowing that there was someone somewhere else dealing with something worse; a murdered brother with no answers.

“I’ll be fine,” I gave him a small nod.

“Bedroom is the last door on the left. Make yourself at home.”

Noah and Jesse were gone in a flash, leaving me alone in the quiet penthouse. It was an eerie silence, the one that made your ears ring, and I let out a long steady breath. Even though this was my home now, it didn’t feel like it. Everything here felt like Noah, which wasn’t a bad thing. His scent lingered in the air and it brought a faint smile on my lips.

Snap out of it, Scarlett! Noah doesn't think of you that way.

My brain practically screamed at me and with a shake of my head, I gathered up my bags to find the last door on the left. My eyes darted into the open door of Noah’s office and briefly could see a large black desk, a computer set up that seemed to fit a gamer, and red neon lights.

I came to a halt in front of the closed door and curiosity peaked in my mind so I tried the door knob.

Locked.

“What the hell are you hiding, Noah,” I muttered to myself before finally reaching the last door on the left.

Now there was resistance filling my veins, making me unable to cross the threshold into the bedroom. While I was interested in seeing how Noah had decorated the bedroom, I was nervous because it would mean that everything was about to become real.

The second I stepped into that room and unpacked my things, this marriage was going to happen.

Before I could make my final decision on whether to run or stay, my phone buzzed with an incoming message.

Noah Sebastian: Hi, it’s Noah. I wanted to let you know that I cleared out some space in the closet and the bathroom for your things. I mean it when I said make yourself at home, Scar. What’s mine is yours.

I couldn’t stop the smile that pulled at my lips while I replied.

Me: I know it’s you, Noah. I’ve had your number saved since high school.

Before I could pocket my phone, a new text came through.

Noah Sebastian: You had it saved? I thought for sure my number would have been blocked.

Me: Tell me what’s in the locked room and I won’t consider blocking your number.

Noah Sebastian: Not a chance, Scar.

Rolling my eyes, I pocketed my phone and gathered up all my courage with a deep breath before walking into the large bedroom.

“Holy shit,” I breathed. “Who needs this much space for one person?”

The king size bed was directly in the middle of the room, up against a wall painted black. On either side of the bed were end tables, each with their own lamp. There were floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the Concrete Jungle and now, with the late evening, it casted the room in a glow of moonlight.

There was a fireplace and what I thought was a picture above turned out to be one of those televisions that you were able to use like a picture frame. It was of some abstract colors, nothing that seemed to make sense to the human eye.

The hardwood floors creaked as I walked farther into the bedroom, noticing that there were clear walls where the fireplace was, showing the bathroom on the other side. I could see straight into the shower and bathtub from my spot in the bedroom.

On the other end of the room was a little sitting corner, made up of a long leather couch and two chairs.

The walk in closet was behind the couch and when I stepped inside, I let out a choked gasp.

“This closet is bigger than my bedroom at home,” I shook my head in disbelief.

Noah was true to his word.

There was more than half of the closet space empty, his clothes and shoes only taking up a small section of the closet.

With a sigh, I went about unpacking all of my things, spending a few hours arranging my clothes by types of shirts and pants. Shoes by heels or flats. Jewelry by necklaces, bracelets, and rings.

Rings.

Glancing down at my bare left hand, I tried to envision how it would look with a wedding ring and I couldn’t help but shudder. Everything was happening so fast and I didn’t even get the chance to let the news settle in yet that this whole arrangement was made without my consent.

Carrying my bag full of toiletries over to the even larger bathroom, I made a mental note to take a very long soak in the deep jacuzzi bathtub as I went about putting everything in its place. There were two sinks and with Noah already taking over the one on the left, I chose the one on the right.

As I was about to leave the bathroom, I caught sight of Noah’s cologne and pursed my lips.

Sauvage by Dior.

After spraying a quick spritz on my sweater, I went back into the closet to put away my suitcases. There was a small area in the far back that took a few finessing to make them fit but it caused something to fall off of a shelf next to me.

Miracle High School. 2013-2014.

It was Noah’s highschool yearbook.

“I haven’t seen one of these in so long,” I said while kneeling on the floor of the closet, opening the book in my lap.

Familiar faces stared back at me as I slowly flipped through it but came to a stop at one picture.

Me.

I was with my old group of friends, most of whom I didn’t talk to anymore, and the smile on my face was so fake. I thought I was happy back then, the facade I put on tricked even me. But after I graduated, I realized how much of a liar I had been. I had to put on this show of the privileged rich girl to appease my mother when in fact, I hated who I was. I despised being in the popular group and desperately wanted to hang out with the artsy kids because that's where I felt my heart deserved to be.

Just as I was about to flip the page, something else caught my eye; a written note next to my picture.

One look at your eyes and I cave in. One taste of the life now I crave it. So give me something beautiful. So give me something else. I need another miracle. I really need some help, I need a miracle.

I frowned, feeling my heart sink to the depths of my stomach, and looked for the picture on the next page.

Noah Sebastian.

Back in highschool, his hair was longer, down to the middle of his back. He did have tattoos, not as many as he did now, but the snake and apple tattoo on his neck poked out from the collar of his shirt. It was customary that all seniors took professional pictures for their yearbook photos but that wasn’t who Noah was.

His senior picture was one of him sitting in a computer chair with a gaming headset on and those adorable gold round glasses while throwing up the peace sign; showcasing those hand tattoos I spent countless hours staring at during our history class together.

Slowly closing the book, I set it back in its place on the highest self before leaving the closet. With a quick glance at my phone, I noticed it was nearing nine in the evening and even though I was exhausted, my stomach growling reminded me that I skipped dinner earlier.

Once back in the large kitchen, I found the remote for the television and turned it on. I had to flip through the channels until finally landing on The Crow and then went about searching the cabinets and fridge for food.

“Does this man not eat?” I groaned when I saw how bare everything was.

Me: You have nothing to eat in this big ass penthouse.

I expected Noah not to text back right away, figuring he was busy dealing with what was happening over at Limits, so when my phone buzzed a few seconds after I sent the message, my heart fluttered.

Noah Sebastian: What are you in the mood for? Indian? Italian? Greek?

You.

Shaking the thought from my head, I typed out my reply.

Me: I’ll just run out and pick something up.

Before I could even lock my phone, Noah’s response appeared on screen.

Noah Sebastian: The Concrete Jungle is not safe at night. Please stay inside. I’ll order whatever you want. My treat.

Pursing my lips, I glanced up to the window, seeing the tall buildings outside, and thought about it for a moment. The Concrete Jungle was Noah’s domain, he created it. But if he said it was dangerous in the dark, I had to believe him.

Me: Greek. One gyro. Hold the veggies. Extra feta cheese and tzatziki sauce.

Me: Large fries and a Dr. Pepper.

Me: We also can’t live off of fast food every day. How can I cook something with one cracked egg, baking soda, and stale ass bread?

While I waited for his reply, I decided to snoop around the penthouse. Off of the kitchen was his laundry room and for a moment, I thought about switching his loads but decided that I should leave it. A guy like him had someone come clean and do his laundry. Just as I was about to take a shower, my phone went off from its spot on the bathroom counter.

Noah Sebastian: I’ve made more with less. But we can go shopping tomorrow, you can get whatever you like.

I thought about replying with a witty remark but knowing that he was probably dealing with something deep at Limits, I decided against it.

Me: You’re going to regret saying that.

Noah Sebastian: So far, when it comes to you I haven’t regretted anything.

My heart jumped in my throat as I read those words a few times over and with a sigh, I locked my phone. I didn’t bother asking him when he would get back because I had a feeling whatever was happening, it wasn’t something that was considered a quick chat.

By the time I was dressed in my pajamas, there was a loud buzzing coming from the elevator of the penthouse. For some reason, there was a fear that filled me from being here alone and not knowing who was slowly rising up the elevator.

Me: Were you expecting company? I think someone rang the buzzer for the elevator.

My bare feet padded down the long hallway and once I stood in front of the elevator, my heart began to beat wildly. I wasn’t exactly dressed for company, wearing a pair of white cotton shorts and a loose tank top.

Noah Sebastian: It’s your food, Scar.

Oh.

Me: Oh, right.

I wasn’t sure why I was so on edge about the possibility of someone coming into Noah’s penthouse without me knowing. Maybe it was because no one knew about our arrangement so it could have been a late night fuck buddy? Maybe it was because Noah was one of the most feared mafia bosses and ruled the Concrete Jungle so someone was coming to get their revenge.

Noah Sebastian: No one can come upstairs without the code. The delivery driver left your food with Gary, the doorman. He’s been working at OMNS Legacy Villas for years and he’s the only one with the code. You can trust him.

I snorted at that word; trust. There were only two people in my life I could trust and they sold me off for a peace treaty.

Me: Trust isn’t a word that’s in my vocabulary.

The elevator doors dinged open, revealing a paper bag in the middle of it. With a quick swipe, the scent of Greek food tickled my nostrils and my stomach grumbled to life. I spread everything out on the large kitchen island and went about eating in silence while watching the movie. It wasn’t until I noticed the time on the large clock on the far end of the wall that it was almost eleven in the evening and without a new text from Noah, I thought about texting him but figured I’d be bothering him.

Once I cleaned up my mess from dinner, I stood in front of the large windows that overlooked the Concrete Jungle. Bright lights bathed over the dirty streets, littered with not only trash but crime as well. On the far end of the corner, I watched as a drug deal went down followed by an attempt at a carjacking. With the angle of how high up the penthouse was, I could see down to Under The Right Lights Tattoo; closed up for the night.

“How did I go from studying animal biology to working in a tattoo shop?” I grumbled to myself while pushing off of the windows.

“Talking to yourself?”

Whirling around, I saw Noah standing in the middle of the living room with his hair a disheveled mess and blood splatter over his shirt. I blinked rapidly, trying to assess the situation in front of me.

“I-,” I pointed to the elevator. “I didn't hear you come up.”

Noah had his hands hiding in the pockets of his black dress slacks and I couldn’t help but picture how they were covered in blood.

“I took the back staircase,” he shrugged before gliding over to the kitchen and popping a few of my leftover fries in his mouth.

I shifted on my feet, watching how unbothered he was.

“You have a back staircase?”

Noah’s eyes flashed to me. “We have a back staircase for times like this. I can’t exactly walk through the lobby looking like this.”

“Right,” I pursed my lips while nodding.

A weird silence fell between us, I was unsure what to do or say, so instead I continued to stand there watching him as he watched me with his nostrils flaring.

“Why do I smell my cologne?”

With a red hue covering my pale skin tone, I cleared my throat. “How did it go at Limits? Get everything sorted out?”

Something flashed in the darkness of his eyes as they flicked over my body. “Are you unpacked?”

“No, we’re not doing that,” I said while stepping closer to the kitchen island so I could stand across from him.

It created a barrier between us.

“Do what?” Noah asked while leaning his long arms over the edge of it.

I did my best not to gawk at his muscles as they rippled and the way the tattoos just seemed to fit him.

“If we’re going to be married, you’re not going to hide anything from me. I grew up in this life, Noah. You don’t need to keep me away from it.”

A sly smile spread to his lips. “We are getting married, Scar. There’s no if.”

I rolled my eyes. “You know what I mean. I’m not asking to be a leader next to you but all I want is honesty.”

Those almond eyes watched me for another long beat before he gave a curt nod.

“Tonight went south; fast.”

I pulled out a stool to take a seat, resting my elbows on the counter. “Were you able to give Vincent’s sister any answers?”

“No,” Noah pinched his eyes shut with a sigh. “When I told her the only information I have is that someone in the Irish mafia killed him, she wouldn’t listen. She’s insistent that it’s the Italians.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

I leaned back into my seat and crossed my arms over my chest which made my breasts perk up over the top of my shirt; something Noah tracked intently with his eyes.

“The Italians haven't stepped foot in your or my territory in almost a decade. They know it would start a war,” I explained.

“You seem to know a lot,” he raised a brow, still standing across from me.

“While my father did his best to keep me out of it, my uncle constantly brought me into meetings. He wanted me to take over when they’re gone,” I said.

“Well, Vincent’s sister surprised all of us when she told us she had some Italian tied up in her trunk,” Noah grabbed water from the fridge, popping it open with an attractive ease.

My eyes doubled. “How did she manage that?”

“No fucking idea. This guy had no ties to the mob, nothing. So I had to pay him a lot of money to keep quiet,” Noah said with a grimace on his face.

“Where did the blood come from?” I pointed to his shirt.

That earned a slight chuckle from him. “Fucker had a nose bleed when I tried to scare him off. All over my good shirt.”

Noah’s words prompted him to slip into the laundry room off the kitchen and return with a basket full of his clothes. As he spread them out on the large counter, I watched in surprise when he began folding them.

“Is it the housekeepers' day off tomorrow?” I joked.

“No housekeeper. I do all the cleaning and cooking,” he informed me.

Well don’t I feel like a judgemental asshole.

Drumming my fingers along the marble, I motioned to the bedroom. “I’m going to head to bed, since we’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”

Noah paused the folding so he could gaze up at me through his long lashes.

“Noon at the courthouse. Are you fine with going out to Limits for a small celebration? The guys were adamant on it.”

I shrugged while hopping off the stool. “That’s fine, I guess. Gives me a reason to get all dolled up.

“I’m going to finish up the laundry then go into the shower. I promise I’ll be quiet,” Noah smiled.

My heart fluttered in my chest at the sight of it so all I did was nod before retreating down the long hallway towards the bedroom.

Even though it was a comfortable bed, I found it hard to sink into the black sheets because of the new place. Any time I slept away from home, it was a restless night. My brain couldn’t calm down and tell myself that I was safe. So I lay there with the forest green blanket pulled to my chin and eyes screwed shut hoping it would help the sleep take me.

Noah’s quiet footsteps echoed on the hardwood as he stalked inside of the bedroom. I watched as he disappeared into the closet and reemerged with a pair of pajama pants. The confidence that radiated off of him as he stepped inside the bathroom was one that made anyone envious. Due to the window that peered into the bathroom, I could see Noah beginning to strip out of his clothes, oh so slowly as if he knew I was watching him. He didn’t bother to turn on the bathroom light, the moonlight breaking through the windows casting him in an aura made for the Gods.

I sucked in a breath when he stepped into the large shower, his large back and perk ass on display for my eyes to drink in. The large Jesus portrait tattoo that lined the entirety of his back glistened as the water droplets fell down to the swell of his ass.

“A Thiarna cuidigh liom,” I groaned while dragging a hand down my face.

I was supposed to be upset with this arrangement and I probably would have been if my future groom wasn’t built the way Noah Sebastian was.

Maybe it’s the fact that you’ve had a huge crush on him since freshman year.

Grumbling at the voice in my head, I forced myself to face the other way in bed in an attempt to get some sleep. While floating in and out of consciousness, I swore I heard the softest melody emanating from the walls of the bedroom. It wrapped around me like a blanket, cradling me with endless comfort, and I felt every worry slip through my fingertips. The weight shifted slightly to pull me in closer but did nothing to disturb the comfort.

NOAH

My knee bounced with so much agitation, I feared it shook the entire penthouse. I sat in my computer chair with my fingers steepeled underneath my chin, memories of earlier replaying in my mind on a constant fucking loop.

The slight hesitation in the ballpoint of the pen before she signed her name on the marriage certificate.

I knew Scarlett wasn’t too fond of this arrangement but there was a part of me that wasn’t expecting the hesitation, especially after last night.

“Scar?” I asked, just above a whisper.

Her sleeping form held the pillow close to her chest but I frowned, not getting into bed yet. She was asleep in my spot. I chewed on my bottom lip, debating whether or not to wake her because I slept in that spot every single night for the last eight years of living in this penthouse.

But standing there at the end of my bed, watching the way her chest rose and fell with each deep breath and the soft snores emanating from her plump lips made everything I’d formally known change.

I slipped into bed behind her with every intention of lying opposite of her but almost immediately, her hand found my bicep in a soft embrace and I vowed not to move at all that night. It was a simple touch but enough to make my heart race.

It was foolish to think that it meant something. Scarlett didn’t feel the same, she’d made it clear that she was here against her will. The first chance she had, she would take it to run off with someone more qualified for her love. It didn’t matter for me to try because I’d never been worthy of Saiorse Scarlett McManus.

Saiorse Scarlett McManus-Sebastian.

I glanced down to my left hand, the black band a sight I was still getting used to. I wore rings all the time, just never on that finger. While she had been getting ready for tonight, I had Matt run to the best jewelry store in the Concrete Jungle to pick up the sets of rings I had put a rush order on. My ring wasn’t anything special, and to be honest neither was Scar’s. Due to the short time frame, I had to make due with what I could. A simple gold band with a small marquise diamond. I knew it wasn’t her style but for now, until I could get her something better later on, this would be fine.

The small velvet box weighed heavy in the pocket of my pants and I knew if I didn’t give it to her soon, it would burn a hole.

A soft knock at my office door pulled me from my thoughts and when I peered over the computer at who stood in the doorway, my heart felt heavy in my chest. Scar stood there with her hands behind her back, almost shy as I drank in her appearance.

Her red hair was pulled back into a tight bun, showcasing the sharpness of her cheekbones.

Her make up was minimal but dark enough to make her green iris shine bright.

The dress she wore managed to hug her figure perfectly. It was a deep olive color that stood out against the paleness of her freckles skin and cut low enough at her breasts that it didn’t leave too much to the imagination but somehow covered her modestly. My gaze traveled up the slit on the dress where her toned legs poked through.

“Noah?”

I snapped my eyes up to her face, a low hum rumbling in my chest. “Yea?”

“Is this alright?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” I frowned.

Scar shrugged and in that moment, I could tell by the pain she held behind her smile that she was struggling with something internally.

“It’s stupid,” she sighed, ready to leave the room until I grabbed her hand.

“Hey,” my voice was soft. “Nothing you say is stupid, alright?”

Those emerald eyes bounced between mine. “With Cory, he didn’t like me wearing things like this.”

The ex.

“You can wear whatever you’re comfortable with,” I gave her hand a gentle squeeze, electricity shooting through my system before reluctantly dropping it.

Scar cleared her throat before rubbing her palms on the side of her silk dress and motioning to me. “Ready to go?”

I peered down to my black pants and plain black shirt, suddenly self conscious I wasn’t dressed up enough for her.

“I can change if it’s not-.”

“No!” She said quickly before catching herself. “You look good.”

A sly smirk came to my lips and with this sudden surge of confidence I pulled out the velvet box from my pocket and heard Scar suck in a breath. The prior nerves were back and I couldn’t stop the way my hands shook as I opened it.

“It’s not much,” I sighed. “Given I had less than twenty four hours to get you a ring, this was the best I could do.”

Scar didn’t say anything as her bright eyes watched me slip the ring on her left hand.

It may have been small but it fit her like a glove.

“It’s fine, Noah,” she reassured me with a quick smile. “I’m not into gaudy and unnecessarily huge rings.”

We stood there in the ever growing silence of my office, the roaring flames from the fireplace the only thing that eased my worries. The orange hues of the fire casted Scar in a golden halo, the sight of the angel in front of me enough to still my heart.

Angel.

“An-.”

“Noah!”

Both mine and Scar’s head snapped over to the hallway right outside the door to my office, seeing Matt standing there.

“Everything alright?” I asked, knowing the panicked look in his eyes.

They shifted to Scar’s where they lingered for a moment too long.

“Matt,” I called his name softly but with enough force; a warning.

“Sorry,” he shifted on his feet. “There’s an issue downstairs in the shop. A client that won’t leave.”

My shoulders fell with an exaggerated groan. “Can’t you handle it?

He rolled his eyes, almost insulted that I doubted his ability. “You know I have no problem with that but they’re not here for us.”

My brow peaked. “Then who are they here for?”

Matt’s eyes darted to Scar who pointed at herself, dumbfounded. “Me?”

“It’s your dad and Uncle. They’re here with some asshat named Cory, who is the one refusing to leave.”

The all too familiar feeling of anger and jealousy festered low in my gut at hearing not only where her father and uncle downstairs in my shop, but so was the asshole ex.

“What are they doing here?” I asked her, trying hard to keep my voice calm.

She shrugged. “I have no idea! I talked to my dad earlier and told him that the papers were signed. He said congratulations and he’ll send a gift at some point.”

Rubbing a hand on my jaw, I gave a curt nod urging Matt to lead the way. The heels of Sacr’s heels clicked against the marble floor as she followed behind me. The ride down the elevator was quiet, filled with my deep and even breathing. Through the corner of my eye, I noticed a few things.

Matt’s eyes darted over to Scar, lingering on the side of her face.

Scar played with the new ring on her finger while she muttered something to herself. Something plagued her mind, it was clear in the way her shoulders were slumped and something continued to twitch in her cheek.

“Did you want me to handle him?” I asked once the elevator stopped at my shop.

Her head tilted up to me, my question lingering in her mind. I found myself getting lost in the greens of her eyes, swimming in the pool of the gold specks in them.

“No. It’s probably better I do,” she sighed.

When the elevator doors opened revealing the closed tattoo shop, I extended an arm to let her walk ahead. We walked down the back hallway, passing my office, the gym, and bathrooms before the sight of all of the closed down booths appeared. On the other side of the front counter stood the McManus brothers and Cory, who was red in the face due to screaming about something.

“She was mine!”

“Calm down, son,” Conner McManus lit a cigarette, puffing out the smoke.

“You can’t smoke in here,” I said with a stern tone.

His dark eyes snapped over to me before tossing down the cigarette, crushing it beneath his boot.

“Cory, what are you doing here?” Scar asked after her father left a soft kiss to the side of her head in greeting.

“Your dad told me you’re married?”

I took a deep breath, trying to let Scar handle this on her own, but both Matt and I flanked behind her; just in case.

The McManus brothers shared a look before Conner threw a thumb over his shoulder. “He showed up at our place drunk rambling about wanting to see Saorise so we brought him here. He’s your problem now.”

“Congratulations on your nuptials. Let’s hope for a time of peace,” Murphy reminded, giving a small smile to his daughter.

With a nod, I dismissed them from my shop and soon it was Cory alone with the three of us.

“I told you I was to be married off,” Scar’s brows furrowed. “I called you earlier this week to tell you and your exact words were,"What do you want me to do about it?””

Cory chuckled darkly. “I thought you were fucking with me to get back at me for Tory.”

She flinched. “Tory? What does Tory have to do with anything?”

Cory held a bottle of vodka loosely between his fingers before bringing it to his lips, downing the rest of it in one go.

“Because I fucked her,” he replied while wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

I took a large step towards him, not being able to hold back my anger any longer, but Scar’s soft gasp halted me.

“Yo-You what?”

Cory snorted when he took in the look of hurt on her face. “I mean, it wasn’t anything serious. Just a good fuck, something to pass the time while you were in school.”

My hands shook at my sides, something Matt noticed because he rested a hand on my shoulder.

“She wants to handle it,” he uttered in my ear, reminding me.

I snapped my eyes over to him but it did nothing to deter the hand on my shoulder. The gun in the holster of my pants began to get heavy. I kept a hard gaze over Scar’s head, directly at Cory, who seemed unphased by the scene he was beginning to create.

“You fucked Tory?”

Scar’s voice and face were unreadable which caused me great panic. I wasn’t sure how she would react or if this news even bothered her. I knew they didn’t date long and according to my intel it didn’t seem to mean much. But even so, finding out you’ve been cheated on during your relationship hurts.

Cory snickered at the distressed look on Scar’s face. “You have no right to act like this, Saorise. You married another man.”

Her eyes flicked over to me but mine never left his face, watching him through the thin slits.

“I didn’t have a choice! My father and Uncle made me. If I did have a choice, I would have moved far away from here years ago,” she sneered.

My heart sank low and my shoulders fell slightly when I gazed down at her. Deep down, I knew she still wasn’t happy about our situation but to hear her continue repeating it cut deep. It was like I was in highschool all over again, fawning over the popular girl who didn’t bat an eye.

“I was going to marry you, Saorise. I had a ring picked out,” the bottle slipped from Cory’s fingers and clattered to the ground at our feet; the leftover alcohol splashing on my shoes.

I grumbled in displeasure.

“Was that before or after you fucked Tory?” Scar took a step towards him.

“Scar,” I warned.

“Scar? What the fuck kind of name is that? Her name is Saoirse,” Cory laid a hand on my shoulder, trying to push me.

Ultimately failing as I barely moved. My veins were filled with hurt from her constant reminders that she didn’t want to be married to me but now, I was filled with sheer anger.

“We call her Scar,” I informed him through gritted teeth.

Cory rolled his eyes. “You guys are all fucked up. I’ve heard the rumors about OMNS. You think you can keep Saoirse safe from that?”

Matt took a large step toward him but was halted with my hand to his chest, both of us sharing a look; one that we’ve shared many times before.

“Take Scar upstairs,” my voice was low and even.

Some would say it even scared them.

Matt gave a curt nod and gently grabbed her elbow but she ripped it from his grasp, those green eyes shooting daggers into me.

“Excuse me? What happened to me handling it?”

I ignored her, letting my stubborn side win, and motioned towards Cory all while keeping my hands in my pockets. “You can leave through the same door you stepped through.”

“Fuck you!” He spat, now pushing me in my chest with both hands, causing me to stumble slightly. “Saoirse is mine! You can’t just fucking take her because you signed some bullshit paper agreement with her father.”

My left brow raised. “Last time I checked, a marriage certificate isn’t a bull shit paper agreement.”

“Noah!” Scar stepped in front of me, blocking my path to Cory. “I told you I can handle this myself.”

“Then why is he still here? Did you invite him?” I asked, eyes flicking down to her and doing my best to keep my composure.

“Fuck off!” She stomped her foot, showing how angry she was getting.

I had to admit, it was kind of cute seeing her bratty side come out.

“You said it yourself you won’t dictate what I do in this marriage. I am my own person.”

The way she said marriage caused something to stir low in my gut and I knew it wasn’t anything good. That all too familiar feeling of my hands shaking in my pockets and my heart beat wildly in my chest usually ended in one way.

Death.

Matt knew this. He’d been by my side since the early days and he’d seen first hand what happened to the people that were on the receiving end of it.

“Alright, time to go,” Matt said before picking up Scar, tossing her over his shoulder.

“You mother fucker! Put me down!” She thrashed in his arm, her no match for his strength.

As her screams faded down the hall towards the elevator, I looked over my shoulder to call back to them.

“Keep it up, Scar. Matt has permission to smack that pretty little ass.”

They stood in the middle of the elevator, her still thrashing about on his shoulder, so Matt gave a wicked smirk with a wink just before the doors shut.

“It’s not even worth it, man. Her holes aren’t even that fuckable.”

My eye snapped back to Cory, who was slightly swaying on his feet, and now one hand rested behind my back to graze over the handle of my gun. My voice wavered only slightly, going undetected by the drunk man in front of me.

“What did you just say?”

He hiccuped, the vodka now settling in his bloodstream. “Her cunt isn’t that great. She just lies there like a board. You’re better off fucking a pillow.”

I swallowed thickly with a finger now on the trigger. All I could see was red.

Blood.

His blood staining the floor of the underground and hearing his pleas of sorrow as I dragged the knife across the flabby flesh of his throat.

“You should have come to me to talk about marrying her!” He poked a weak finger to my chest. “She’s mine.”

I blinked for a long moment, letting out an even longer deep breath in the exact exercises my therapist taught me. I couldn’t do anything up here due to the cameras I had littered throughout so instead, I cleared my throat while extending a hand behind me.

“We’ll, why don’t we step into my office to work out a deal,” I suggested with a playful smirk.

Cory smiled with triumph and straightened out his polo. “The only hole I want is her mouth. It’s all she’s good for.”

The knife hidden in my sock itched with the need to slice flesh.

SCAR

“You mother fucker!” I pounded on Matt’s broad back as we rode the elevator back up to the penthouse.

“Try all you want, Saoirse. But did you forget Noah’s warning?” He teased me.

My face was directly in sight with his round ass and with a playful smirk, I pinched it, causing him to yelp out and dropping me to my feet.

“Did you just pinch my ass?” He asked dumbfounded while rubbing the spot I pinched.

I shrugged. “It was right in front of my face. I can't help it if you've got a nice ass.”

His face flinched, not expecting my boldness. “Noah definitely has his hands full with you.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I gave him my back to finish the ride up in silence. I could feel him behind me, eyes burning over my entire body, and my tough resolve began to slowly slip away. The day had gone straight to hell the second I woke up and found myself wrapped in Noah’s warm embrace. I spent an excruciating long moment tracing over the tattoos on his chest with my eyes, burning them into memory.

Ever since I watched him in the shower last night, I felt this undeniable burn between my legs that needed to be touched, licked, bite, and fucked. Not even the moment in the shower this afternoon while Noah was running a few errands before our courthouse appointment extinguished this burn.

When I cried out his name as my orgasm engulfed me, it made the flames burn higher.

“You seem on edge,” Matt’s deep voice pulled me from thoughts of Noah naked.

“I wonder why,” I grumbled under my breath.

He chuckled, the sound bringing an ease to the tension around us.

“Noah will be fine,” he assured me.

“He’s not the one I’m worried about,” I admitted while stepping off the elevator when it opened to the penthouse.

Turning on my heels, I noticed Matt still standing in the elevator, unmoving.

“Are you not going to come inside and watch me?” I teased.

His eyes raked over me from underneath his hat, a sly smirk playing on his lips.

“Tempting. But I’ve got other things to do.”

I didn’t have time to think of what that other thing was before the doors shut, leaving me alone in the large penthouse. I continued to grumble obscenities under my breath as I stalked towards the bedroom, ready to change into a pair of sweats and spending the rest of this awful day on the couch reading a book.

And not think of your husband’s ass in the shower.

Groaning at the little voice in my head, I threw on a pair of sweats, not bothering to take my makeup off, and dragged my feet down the long hallway again to the large bookshelves that were right next to the elevator. Noah had a large collection, might as well help myself to one or two.

Black fingernails skimmed over the spines of the large collection, humming a soft tune to myself, until one caught my eye.

A New World.

When I went to pull it out, excited to read my favorite book, it wouldn’t budge. Instead, the bookshelf began to creak and groan before slowly opening into the wall.

“No fucking way,” I scoffed. “He would have a secret door that leads to a dark staircase.”

I thought about it for a moment; go down the stairs to see where it led or play dumb to the fact that I ever saw it. But suddenly, something from yesterday popped in my brain.

“I took the back staircase.”

Noah made it a point to say that he takes this staircase when he’s unable to walk through the lobby of the penthouse. Meaning wherever his staircase led, it was meant to be hidden.

“Fuck it,” I muttered with a shrug before taking the stairs, one step at a time.

It was lit with a muted yellow glow so I had a hand on the wall to guide me in case I were to tumble down. With each tentative step, voices grew closer and closer until I heard what sounded like flesh on flesh and then pained cries.

When my footsteps halted at the bottom of the staircase, I felt my heart jump into my throat and stomach fall out of my ass with the sight in front of me.

“What the fuck!”

NOAH

“Wait please!”

Ignoring the pathetic cries falling from Cory’s mouth, I sunk the knife deeper into the already gaping wound in his thigh, twisting and turning it in all different directions. The sound of blood squelching brought a sinister smile to my face as I watched the sheer pain on his face. Tendrils of my dark hair fell into my eyes but I didn’t dare brush them away.

“You have a lot of nerve coming into my shop and talking about my wife that way,” I said.

Cory did his best to thrash in the chair he was tied up in but ultimately failed. “Fuck you!”

I cocked my head to the side, still having a tight grip on the knife in his thigh. I felt a presence behind me as I was crouched at the knees, knowing Matt was also watching with his own sinister smirk. I’d done a number on Cory already, his face barely recognizable from the blood that covered it and not only did he have a wound in his thigh, his arms and chest were littered with small yet painful slices from my blade.

“I’m done with him,” I said while slowly rising to full height, aged knees popping in and out of place.

Matt handed me a small handgun from one of my large collections and when I cocked it, Cory’s eyes went white as a ghost.

“Wait!” He choked on his own blood. “I have information!”

The grip on my gun never faltered but I did raise a brow at him. “What could you possibly know that would interest me?”

Deep, uneven breaths fell from Cory’s lips and I knew that I only had a short window with him before he succumbed to the wounds; more importantly, the one on his side. Matt made a comment of how deep I went with the knife but all I saw was red, Cory’s comments from earlier urging the knife deeper.

“The only hole I want is her mouth. It’s all she’s good for.”

“Its-,” he coughed up blood, spewing it all over himself and at the ground near my shoes. “About Saoirse’s mom. Her death.”

That made my gun falter a bit but I kept my tough resolve apparent. “Her mom died years ago. Why do you think I would spare your life when it was already a solved case?”

Underneath the blood that pooled from Corey’s mouth was a sinister smirk as he leaned his head back.

“That’s what they want you to think.”

Matt, who had slowly slipped behind Cory, and I shared a look before he asked the next question.

“Who’s they?” Matt wondered.

Cory did his best to shrug due to being tied up. “The ones who did it.”

I let out an agitated groan before dropping the gun onto the metal table next to me, the noise caused Cory to jump. It had been an extremely long day and the last thing I wanted to do was stand here while he ran us in circles with this so-called information. There were many things I would much rather be doing.

My wife.

Shaking the thought from my head, I stalked over towards the far end of the underground to where I held all of my variety of tools; immediately reaching for the pair of rusty pliers.

Twirling the tool in my hands, I noticed a look of fear flash in Cory’s eyes just before I flicked my own towards Matt, giving him a silent order. He wrenched Cory’s head back by the roots of his hair, keeping him in place, gloved fingers smearing his own blood all throughout.

It took me a lot longer than I’d like to admit to start wearing gloves during these kinds of meetings. Not only for the fear of leaving fingerprints behind but because blood was a bitch to wash off.

“Cory,” I clicked my tongue against my teeth. “I’m getting really fucking tired of your voice.”

He blinked, trying to fight against Matt’s grip on him. “Wh-what are you going to do?”

I sinisterly looked at the old pliers in my hand and shivered with delight. “I’m going to rip out your tongue.”

Screams of pain echoed loudly in the underground, but never making past the concrete walls, as I yanked his tongue out of his mouth. Cory writhed in the chair as his words were muffled as I nearly clipped the pliers with his tongue.

“One last question,” I said without an ounce of waver in my voice. “Does Vincent’s death have anything to do with Mrs. McManus’ death?”

The pupils of Cory’s eyes bled black and even with both mine and Matt’s grip on him, I felt the softest of nods. Something inside of me burned low with the revelation that my best friend was possibly killed by the same person that killed Scar’s mom.

“This is for everything you said about my wife.”

With the pliers clamped around Cory’s tongue, I ripped it with such force, blood spattered across my shirt, down to my shoes. His cries sounded like pure bliss to my ears as I let the limp muscle and pliers clatter to the dirty ground at my feet.

Matt pushed himself away from Cory, wiping his hands on the back of his sweats, before tossing me a rag.

“You got some blood on your face,” he pointed to his cheek.

With a disgusted groan, I wiped the blood away and ripped away the destroyed shirt now. It would have to join the burn pile. As I discarded my gloves into the same pile, I continued to ignore the mess of a man in front of me. Blood pooled down Cory’s chin and over his bare chest. But the satisfaction I thought I would feel after causing him this much pain was non-existent. I wanted him to suffer for everything he said about Scar but mostly the fact he had the nerve to cheat on her.

Matt immediately noticed the look in my eyes, having seen it one too many times before.

“Noah, let’s end this. It’s not like he’s physically able to tell us anything else,” he suggested.

I scratched at the tattoos on my chest absentmindedly, doing my best to calm the beast inside of me. I was alway calm with dealings like this, the more level headed one of our group. But Cory’s words about my wife continued to tease me and I couldn’t contain myself any longer. Rage consumed me as I laid fist after fist into Cory’s flesh; anywhere I could.

His stomach.

His chest.

His face, over and over again.

It was as if the rage had blinded my vision, making the only thing I could see was pure darkness. His muffled groans and the sound of flesh on flesh was muted by the pounding of my heart in my ears.

“What the fuck!”

Chest heaving, I whirled around on my heels to see Scar standing on the far end of the room where the hidden staircase led. The soft features of her face were contorted with agony as she took in the sight in front of her.

Cory’s near lifeless body at my feet, still tied to the chair.

Matt sat on the metal table, dangling his legs in the air, as he browsed something on his phone.

And me, standing above the mess I created with blood on my hands; literally. Scar’s lips were parted, the softest off breaths falling from them, and her pupils were dilated with sheer fear.

No.

Not fear.

Arousal.

“Cory!” Scar bellowed before taking a step towards him, causing me to block her path.

“Now you care for him?” I sneered, wiping his blood over my chest.

“N-no,” she stammered while shifting on her feet. “I just-. I didn’t expect to see this when I came down here!”

Matt snorted from his spot on the table. “What did you expect to see, Scar? Us having a picnic?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Fuck off, Matthew.”

“It’s Matt,” I corrected. “You need to go back upstairs.”

Now her fury was directed towards me and she poked a nail into my bare chest, doing her best not to gawk at the tattoos and blood.

Ultimately failing.

“You don’t tell me what to do, Noah!” She poked me again. “You brought me into this fucked up world, the least you can do is let me see it!”

I cocked my head to the side, slowly licking my lips, and took a tentative step towards her. The chill of the underground brought goosebumps to my skin but the reminder of how her finger felt poking my skin bathed me in warmth.

“Does this turn you on, Scar?” I teased with a low voice.

There was a slight hesitation before she scoffed, locking her hands on her hips. “No!”

Her voice was high pitched, almost scratchy, and it was something I remembered from highschool she would do this exact thing when she was lying. I raised a finger to her, twirling a piece of auburn hair around it.

“Admit it, Scar. Even you’ve thought about it. Dragging your knife across someone’s flesh. Their screams of despair and pain bring a sense of comfort, maybe even arousal,” I breathed into the crook of her neck.

She swallowed thickly and I tracked the way her bottom lip caught between her teeth, desperately wanting to know how they tasted.

“You’re sick!” her eyes snapped up towards mine.

I grinned, dark tendrils of hair falling into my even darker eyes. “If I’m so sick, then how come your hand is reaching for my belt?”

Scar cursed when she realized her fingers were brushing against the buckle of my belt and hurriedly jumped away from me. Her eyes darted back to the scene behind me, lingering on the slowly dying body at my feet.

“Did you rip out his tongue?!” She gasped, covering her mouth.

I kicked the limp muscle on the other side of the room carelessly. “Bastard kept talking about you. I needed to teach him a lesson.”

Matt slipped off of the table and reached for one of the smaller pocket knives we had hanging on the wall behind him. Twirling it between his fingers, he nodded towards Scar.

“Do you want to finish him off? A little payback for him cheating on you?”

For the briefest of moments, she thought about it with the way her gaze lingered on the sharp blade before falling down to Cory, who had passed out from the pain. Scar was facing an internal battle inside of her between what was right and wrong. Well, what she thought was wrong. Nothing I did in the undergrounds of the Concrete Jungle was wrong. I did it to protect what I’ve created here and to protect the ones I love.

“What do you say? Or are you too much of a pussy to get the job done?” I taunted, hands buried deep into the pockets of my dress slacks.

Scar’s lips recoiled as she violently shook her head. “If I would have known you were like this, I wouldn’t have agreed to this marriage!”

My heart sank to the depths of my stomach but I continued to hold my demeanor, not allowing her to know how her words continued to affect me.

“Fine,” I shrugged with a sigh. “You have two choices. Stay here and watch or go upstairs and wait for me.”

“Wait for you? For what?” She blinked.

Not uttering a word, I turned on my heels back towards Cory and kicked his abdomen, waking him from his slumber. Words were muffled as he tried to fight against the binds, weakly due to the blood loss, so Matt bent at the knees next to him.

“We’ll make it quick,” he shook the knife in front of Cory’s face, whose eyes flared with fear.

I didn’t have to see if Scar went upstairs, I could feel her presence behind me as she stalked closer. The ghost brush of a hand on my lower back made my spine stiffen and when I glanced over my shoulder, I raised a brow at her.

“Curious cat, eh?”

“Fuck off, Sebastain!” She pushed away from me and I could hear her footsteps amcking against the concrete as she ran up the hidden staircase.

“Did you want the honors, boss?” Matt’s voice caused me to turn my head back towards him.

“He’s all yours,” I said, the urge to hurt him not present. “Have Ash help you clean up. But once you’re finished, do me a favor and look into what he was rambling on about earlier.”

Matt gave a quick two finger salute. My heart was no longer in this game of torture and mutalation. It was vying for the woman upstairs and wanting to make things right with her. The usual sick thrill I got from watching a kill meant nothing as I followed Scar’s footsteps.

SCAR

I lay in bed with my back turned towards the door, trying my darndest to erase the image of Cory on the flood from my brain. While I never loved him, it still struck something inside of me to see him so broken on death's door. Yet, the way Noah looked towered over him, shirtless and the blue lights of the underground emanating him in neon glows now made something burn inside. My pussy ached as I remembered how the blood looked smeared across Noah’s tattooed chest and for the quickest of moments, I wanted to lick it off of him.

“You’re so fucked up!” I groaned while pressing my palms into my eyes, hoping to rub away the vision from my mind.

“Talking to yourself?”

Snapping my eyes open, I saw Noah leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom, thick arms crossed over his chest. He looked like a dream with the setting sun's rays blasting through the large windows and casting him in a peachy glow. His belt and button were undone, showcasing the hard V line of his hips as his pants hung low, and I found myself staring at the few dark hairs that peaked out from the waistband of his briefs.

“If you want it, Scar. All you need to do is ask,” Noah teased while pushing himself off the door frame and stalked into the bedroom.

Rolling my eyes, I sat up in bed and pulled my knees to my chest as I watched him walk towards the bathroom.

“Did you kill him?”

My words made Noah pause, the muscles in his back flexing, but he didn’t look towards me. “Will you cry if I tell you the truth?”

“I don’t love him. Never had. But that doesn't mean he deserved to die, Noah!”

Now he whirled around on his feet, dark eyes staring daggers into me.

“He cheated on you, Scar! Bragged about how the only good hole you had was your mouth. Claimed you would lie there stiff as a board,” Noah ran a hand through his hair.

I pulled my lips in a tight light after I was about to say something but when he took a large step towards me, I realized he wasn't done yet.

“Did you really think I would let him get away with talking about you like that? My wife. In my shop?!”

His eyes were wild as he loomed over me in the bed and my stomach flipped at his words.

My wife.

“I-,” my voice faltered, unsure what to say.

Noah’s nostrils flared, his anger radiating off of him in droves, and he leaned farther over me causing my body to fall to the bed. Tattooed arms locked me in on both sides of my head and I felt his scorching breath fanning over my lips. We were so close that if I titled my head up just a tad, I would finally be able to figure out what he tasted like; a thought that had been plaguing my mind since highschool.

“Let’s make one thing clear here. You’re mine, angel. Anyone who disrespects you will pay a price, regardless of who they are,” Noah pressed his hips against mine.

I sucked in a breath when his cock brushed along my pussy, over the silk fabric of my pajama shorts. I’d change once I came back upstairs, ready for the day to be over, not caring it was just before six in the evening. My hands shook at my sides, unsure what to do with them, so Noah grabbed them and pinned both of them above my head; both wrists fitting in one of his hands.

“Wh-what did you call me?” I choked out, suddenly realizing what he said.

His nose brushed along my jawline, breathing me in.

“Angel,” Noah almost purred.

I swallowed thickly, doing my best to keep my strong hold against him even though it was faltering with every brush of his cock against me. He was slowly dry humping me and I was giving back to him with even strokes. There was still dried blood across the tattoos on his chest, painting them in crimson, and I could still smell the lingering copper scent.

“What if I don’t like it?” I panted, nearly gone in bliss.

He groaned while grazing his teeth along my jugular. “Too bad because it stays. Angel.”

With one of his hands still keeping mine locked about my head, his other slipped underneath my nightshirt to graze over my blazed skin. We were like a couple of horny teenagers that found their first moment alone with each other with how frenzied our movements were against each other. My orgasm was building slowly, the familiar tingling sensation in the base of my spine. It was so close, I could taste it on the tip of my tongue and I wanted nothing more than to scream out his name as I came undone underneath hNoah.

“How wet are you, angel?” He flicked his tongue against my earlobe. “I bet you're soaked just from this.”

I nodded, too far gone now to try and fight against him. I needed this release more than oxygen and it was almost as if Noah understood because his hand slipped between us to tease my folds over my shorts.

“I fucking knew it,” he chuckled darkly. “How bad do you want my cock, Scar?”

I bit the inside of my cheek, not wanting to give away how bad I actually wanted or how I’ve wanted it since freshman year. Instead I raised my hips up towards his hands, a silent beg falling from my lips.

“Use your words,” Noah demanded before smacking my pussy.

“Shit!” I cried out. “Fuck you.”

He wrapped one of my legs around his back so he could press his clothed cock over my core at a different angle and it was everything I needed for the coil to snap.

“Oh god,” my body convulsed underneath Noah as I let my orgasm overcome all of my senses.

White hazy stars danced at the edges of my vision.

I could taste the blood from Noah’s chest as I lapped at it, unknowingly.

All the noises around me seemed to fade away. The only thing I could hear was Noah’s grunts as he continued to dry fuck me.

At some point he let go of my hands and my nails scratched at the large Jesus portrait against Noah’s back, working myself through the aftershocks.

The scent of his cologne hung along the edge of my nose as I breathed him in.

“That’s such a good girl, Scar. You sound so pretty when you cum,” Noah praised while dragging his teeth along the side of my neck.

My jaw fell slack when I finally came down from my high and Noah began rising the hem of my shirt up over my stomach.

“You can lie all you want, Scar. But what you saw downstairs turned you on,” he flicked his eyes up at me from his new position over my belly.

“You’re crazy,” I breathed, letting my eyes flutter shut.

“For you-.”

“Am I interrupting something?”

My head snapped over towards the doorway where I saw one of his men leaning against the same spot Noah had been minutes prior. I vaguely recognized him as one of the members of OMNS; his long hair down past his shoulders and the cross earring hanging from his ear. The accent immediately told me who it was. I tried to scurry away from Noah, only for him to hold onto my hips with a vice grip, him sitting up against the back of his calves.

“Need something Joakim?” Noah made no effort to fix his pants or briefs as they were askew. I didn’t miss the agitation in his voice.

Joakim's eyes lingered at us for a moment before he motioned towards me. “Her fathers estate has been calling the lobby of the apartments. Apparently, her uncle wants to have her over for dinner tonight to celebrate the nuptials.”

Both Noah and I shared a look, knowing that it couldn’t be true because we saw my dad and uncle a few hours ago and neither of them made it known they wanted dinner tonight. Plus, if they did, they would call my cell phone, not the lobby.

Smacking his leg, Noah reluctantly rolled off of me allowing me to sit up and fix my hair and hopefully cool down my heated cheeks. I wasn’t sure how long Joakim had been watching us but from the sly smirk on his lips, I had a feeling it was before my orgasm.

“I don’t have a good feeling about this, Scar,” Noah sat on the edge of the bed, hair a disheveled mess and pants still unbuttoned.

While I expected to see his cock thick and hard, it nearly shocked me to see a faint wet spot staining the gray briefs; not from my arousal.

“I’ll be fine. Maybe it was a last minute dinner he wanted to set up. I’m sure he’s curious about the Cory situation,” I said.

Noah’s brows peaked. “What are you going to tell him?”

I shrugged. “It was handled. They don’t need to know the details.”

“Let me come with you. Since it is a dinner to celebrate us,” he spoke while rising from the bed, however Joakim shook his head.

“You’re needed at the M.I.N.D Clinic. Something happened with one of our extended guests.”

Noah sighed with even more agitation than before and pinched his eyes shut. “Fine. Let me clean up and I’ll meet you in the living room in ten minutes.”

“Wiat!” I grabbed his arm before he could retreat into the bathroom. “The M.I.N.D Clinic is real?”

“Yes,” his lips pulled down at my surprise. “It’s been a running establishment for the last three years. How have you not known about it?”

I shrugged. “There were rumors in my neighborhood about what you do in the Concrete Jungle but none of us knew for sure. The M.I.N.D Clinic allows you to go through your memories, right? Relieve them?”

Noah nodded but then his eyes widened when he realized what I was getting at and firmly shook his head. “Absolutely not, Scar. It can be a dangerous place there. We’ve had a resident with us for the last 118 days because he’s trying to remember his wife who is currently on her deathbed. The M.I.N.D program, while it is one I’ve programmed myself, still has its flaws. If you find yourself too deep, you won’t be able to pull yourself out.”

“But-!”

“No, Saoirse. Do not ask again,” Noah snapped, using my first name to let me know he meant what he said.

Holding up my hands, I nodded. “Fine. I’m going to change and head to my dad’s. I’ll be back later.”

“Take Joakim with you,” Noah said as I walked away from him. “I’ll bring Nicholas with me.”

Joakim nodded towards him but gave me a playful wink as I walked past him towards the walk in closet. “No offense, Joakim. But I can take care of myself. It’s just a dinner, no need for protection.”

Waving off Noah’s protests, I closed myself inside of the closet to get ready.

Thirty minutes later, I was dressed in a pair of jeans and a hoodie, not bothering to get dressed up for this last minute dinner, and drove down the familiar but darkened roads back to my fathers estate. I tried calling him once I got in the car to confirm but got his voicemail after three rings. Even though I knew it was nothing, I couldn’t ignore the way my heart beat increased the closer I got, something not sitting well with me. I couldn’t even enjoy the earlier thought of me coming apart for Noah without the fear of what I was about to walk into looming.

How could I allow myself to let Noah take that part of me? I had told myself over and over again before moving in that I would not fold that fast for him, yet there I was begging for his cock like a horny teeneager.

I mean, you were horny. You did love what you saw in the underground.

Grumbling at my thoughts, I took the familiar turn around the bend, my old neighborhood less than a mile away. Yet I was blinded when a pair of bright headlights came barreling towards me.

“Shit!” I cursed before wrenching the steering wheel to the side, causing my car to skid close to the edge.

Right in perfect sight of the car that t boned into me. All I could remember was the sound of metal on metal and glass breaking before being plunged into darkness.

JOAKIM

“Did she make it?” I asked Noah who had stepped inside of his office at the M.I.N.D Clinic.

While he was busy tending to the resident and his wife, I’d been sitting at his desk, looking over the numbers in the books. We had made a decent increase in revenue the last six months, along with a lot of our other businesses. We no longer had to worry about where money was coming from to cover the expenses of the underground, yet it was still nice to be aware of where the money was going.

Noah shook his head and stuffed his hands deep into the pockets of his black jacket. His black turtle neck had been pulled up high, covering the snake tattoo on his neck.

“She didn’t make it. He claims he kept having visions of her dying over and over again while he was under,” Noah fell into the chair across from the desk with a deep sigh.

“What happens now?” I wondered while leaning farther back into my own chair.

“He paid out for 150 days, he’s going to honor the rest of his contract. To be honest, I don’t think we’d be able to make him leave,” he ran a hand through his locks, brushing them away from his face.

We sat in silence for a moment until his deep voice reverberated in the air.

“How much of that did you see? Back at the penthouse?”

I gazed away from the computer screen to see a faint redness creeping along Noah’s defined cheekbones and snickered.

“Enough to know why Scar has been on your mind since highschool,” I clicked off the program before shutting down the computer.

Noah ran a hand over his face. “I didn’t expect to fall into her so quickly, Jolly. She has this way of pulling me in and I’m so afraid that I’ll fall even harder than the last time when she realizes I’m not what she wants.”

I kicked my feet up on the desk, ignoring the way Noah glared at the action.

“She doesn't have a choice, Noah. As long as both sides want to keep the peace and stop a war from breaking out, she has to remain married to you.”

I could tell my words did nothing to ease the anxiety in his mind so I continued. “Plus from what I saw and heard, she’s into you more than you think.”

Noah’s lips parted to speak but was interrupted by the constant shrill of his phone ringing and he dug it out of his pants pocket.

“It’s Scar,” he muttered before answering. “Hey, did you make it-.”

It was silent for an eerily amount of time and with the way his face changed from neutral to fear to pure anger made me sit straight up in the chair now.

“Where are you?” Noah made a simple motion with his hand, one I understood, and quickly I made my way over to the other end of the office, yanking one of the books off of the book shelf.

The shelf next to me creaked open from the middle, showcasing a large array of different kinds of weapons. After I grabbed one of the handguns, making sure it was loaded, I grabbed one of Noah’s favorites and tossed it to him. He caught it without even looking, still on the phone with Scar.

“It’s alright, angel. Joakim and I can be there in ten minutes. Have you called the cops?”

Angel?

Cops?

What the fuck was going on?

“Don’t. I’ll call the guys to meet you there. Folio can get there in five with his bike. Just stay out of sight, alright?” Noah said while grabbing another gun, giving me a sideways glance.

You can never be too safe.

Once he hung up, he worked out a text message, no doubt to our group chat, and then slipped on his leather gloves.

“Is she alright?” I asked as we made our way through the hidden door of the office that led to the back alley.

“I don’t know,” he spat out through gritted teeth.

Neither of us said a word as we slipped inside of the sleek black car, Noah speeding off before I even buckled my seat belt.

SCAR

The sound of metal scraping along the concrete was loud in my ears as I stood frozen, gazing at the sight in front of me. In an instant, everything changed and I couldn't stop wondering what would have happened if I didn't make it out.

If I was at the bottom of the ocean with what was left of the crumpled piece of metal. The face behind the mask was the last thing I saw before swerving my car out of the way and tumbling over the edge.

I let out a choked sob as the tears finally fell from my eyes and I didn't bother to wipe them away. Fear etched its way deep into my bones and my body shook uncontrollably. Until a faint shadow in the darkness appeared through the fog and the fear stilled, only for a moment.

"I-I-I'm sorry," I sobbed, cradling my arms to my chest, hoping to hide the injuries from him. "I didn't know who else to call."

Noah stepped out of the thick fog and immediately cradled my face, eyes scanning for every visible injury he could see.

“Are you alright, angel?”

The tenderness in his voice did nothing to ease away the pain weighing my body down. I shook my head, tears still falling.

“I should have called someone else. I know you’re busy and you wanted me to be with a guard but I didn’t want to be a bother,” I rambled on.

Noah’s thumb grazed over a deep wound on my cheek, gathering up the blood. “You always call me, Scar. Always.”

I blinked through the tears but eventually nodded.

“The car came out of nowhere! The only thing I could see was a masked person driving before it crashed into me,” I sobbed but then pointed a shaking finger towards the cliff edge twenty feet from us. “My car hung on the ledge for a few minutes and I climbed my way out, barely making it out before it fell into the water.”

Noah’s grip on my face tightened before he pulled me into his chest, large hands leaving soothing circles against my back as I cried.

“It’s alright, angel. I’ve got you. You’re alright,” he cooed.

“Everything hurts. I think my arm is broken,” I continued to sob. “I should go to a hospital.”

“No,” he pulled away from me slightly so he could glance down at me through the darkness, only illuminated by the lights from his car. “Hospitals will ask questions. I’ve got a doctor on call that will meet us back at the penthouse to look at that arm and stitch up your wounds.”

Suddenly exhausted from the aftermath of the crash, I numbly nodded before collapsing into his arms. Noah cursed before picking me up bridal style to carry me over to Nicholas’ SUV. He arrived seconds after Noah did.

“How is she?” Nicholas wondered while Noah laid me down in the back seat.

“We need to get her back to the penthouse, now. Have the doctor meet you guys there. I’m going to see what I can find,” Noah ordered.

I reached for his hand, keeping him from leaving. He stood in the open doorway of the car and peered down at me with concern in his almond eyes.

“Please don’t leave,” my voice shook.

While I did grow up in the mob life, I never was exposed to it in this kind of magnitude. There wasn’t a doubt in any of our minds that this whole night had been a hit on me or Noah. But we weren't sure who had set it up.

His clenched jaw eased before letting out a tender breath. “I need to figure out what happened. I won’t be long.”

“Folio is already looking,” I explained while slowly sitting up, grimacing at the pain that shot through me.

Just then, Folio popped up behind Noah, a cigar hanging loosely from his lips.

“What did you find out?” He whirled around, fanning out the smoke.

“The driver,” Folio adjusted his leather cut off. “Put up a nasty fight at first, damn near scratched my eyes out.”

At the mention of the scuffle, I did notice three red marks down the side of his face and over the Jesus tattoo on the side of his neck.

“So is he dead or alive?” Noah asked, aggravated.

I could tell in the way his shoulders tensed underneath his jacket that he was ready to take care of this by himself.

Folio smirked before pulling the cigar from his mouth. “She is alive. Got her in the trunk of your car.”

Very quickly, Noah barked out orders to all of his men before they all piled into their respective cars. He motioned for me to lay down again, resting my head in his lap as Nicholas drove us away from the scene. I could hear the rumble of Folio’s bike next to us while Joakim and Matt rode in Noah’s car that had the culprit tied up in the trunk. I knew that there were other cars behind us but I couldn’t care at that moment because Noah’s fingers worked through the blood matted knots of my hair.

“We’ll get you cleaned up and looked at. I’m going to have a conversation with this driver,” he muttered, keeping his eyes locked on the car in front of him.

“I want to be the one to do it.”

Noah’s eyes fell down to mine, heavy with exhaustion, but I forced them open.

“Are you sure?” He asked.

It nearly took me off guard that he didn’t argue with me but I recovered quickly.

“She nearly killed me, Noah,” I squeezed his knee, adjusting myself so I could take a small nap. “I’m going to find out why.”

SCAR

I stood in front of the woman who lay slumped in front of me, her words replaying in my mind over and over again. None of it could be true. There was no way; not possible.

We all arrived to the penthouse about an hour ago and while Noah brought me upstairs to get checked out and cleaned up, the rest of OMNS were busy dealing with her. I had a broken arm that was currently being held up by a sling and a wound on my forehead that needed to be stitched up, covered with a bandage. Besides those and a few bumps and bruises, I would live; much to the dismay of the woman at my feet.

It wasn't easy for me to shower by myself but I made due, not wanting Noah’s help. Even with our moment earlier this evening in bed, I wasn’t ready for him to see me naked yet.

The doctor prescribed me some meds for the pain but I declined, never liking the idea of pain meds after seeing my friends in high school abuse their parents. I’d gladly suffer for a few weeks rather than get addicted. As soon as I was dressed in a pair of leggings and a tank top, I had Noah help me back into the sling before both of us took the hidden staircase down to the underground where my prey sat waiting for me.

Nicholas and Folio had already roughed her up a bit for me and I couldn’t ignore the way it brought a giddy smile to my face seeing the woman a bloody mess. When she saw both Noah and I descended the stairs, pure ice cold fear filled her pupils and began rambling off nonsense.

Nonsense about my mother.

Once we arrived, Noah dismissed Nicholas and Folio, leaving just us three alone.

"Pl-please," she blabbered while spitting out blood. "You have to believe me! I saw it!"

“That’s not possible. She’s been dead for years. You saw her doppelganger or some shit,” I sneered while kicking her in her face, watching her rear back against the chilled concrete floor.

Thankfully I remembered to slip on my black boots before coming down here.

“I know what I saw! She was seen with Vincent!” The woman continued to spew bullshit.

According to Nicholas, he found out some details about this woman. She worked for the Italians and was set out to veer my car off of the road because they were upset that the deal for my hand in marriage was made with Noah and not one of their prospective sons.

As if I would ever get in bed with the Italians.

“You’re saying whatever you can think of to prolong you walking out of here alive,” I rolled my eyes before reaching for the knife that Noah had laid out prior to us coming down here.

I told him that I wanted to be the one to integrate her, he could hang back and watch in case things got out of hand. But before we came down here, he showed me how to properly use a knife.

“Keep a light grip on the handle but firm with the blade against their skin,” he breathed against the back of my neck as he stood behind me in our bedroom.

He held the blade against the sensitive skin of my neck and I held my breath, not due to fear but arousal. The scene also had an effect on him because I could feel Noah’s cock against the swell of my ass.

“It’s all true! Two weeks before Vincent showed up on OMNS doorstep, I saw him with your mother! At some sleazy German bar, they wanted to meet on neutral ground to discuss something.”

I paused twirling the knife in my hand and watched as the woman rose to her knees, holding out her hands.

“Discuss what?” I questioned, absitmindly playing with my wedding ring.

I couldn’t believe that it was still the same day that Noah and I signed the marriage certificate. It felt like days ago.

The woman hesitated before wiping the blood away from her broken nose with the back of her hand. “I don’t exactly know.”

Sighing, I yanked her head back by her hair, exposing her neck to the neon lights adorning the ceiling. I had no plans on killing her, that wasn’t me. Yet again, this whole torturing of a victim wasn’t me either, but given the circumstances I allowed myself this.

But realizing I could only hold her head back with my good arm, unable to hold the knife against her throat, I groaned before pushing her down the ground again.

My eyes snapped over to Noah leaning against the concrete wall, the bottom half of his face covered in the black mask. Dark tendrils of hair fell into his face but his hands were covered in blood so he refused to push them away.

“I’m suddenly bored. There’s no need to question you any longer. Have fun with her, Noah. I’m going to bed,” I grumbled, slamming the knife on the table as I walked past him, who still hadn’t uttered a word or moved a muscle.

“Noah looked into your mothers death! He sent Matt to find out more information,” the woman called after me, halting my footsteps. “It’s all over the Concrete Jungle that your mother was seen with Vincent. In more ways than one, if you catch my drift.

My head snapped over to Noah, ignoring the suddenly sinister laugh falling from the woman's mouth.

"Is it true?" I asked him, venom in my voice.

All he did was blink once but that was answer enough.

Yes.

I scoffed. “Were you planning on telling me?”

One blink.

Yes.

I pointed to the woman. “Does she have anything to do with my mother?”

This time, Noah didn’t blink which again told me his answer.

He didn’t know.

The woman watched the interaction between Noah and I, shaking her head wildly. "You can't believe him! He's lying!"

I cocked my head at her with narrowed eyes. There was a large and warm presence behind me. When I glanced over my shoulder, Noah was now standing behind me; physically and metaphorically.

"Noah's my husband. He has no reason to,” I said.

The woman's face was covered in blood, her right eye swollen shut but I wasn’t sure if it was from our beatings or from the car accident she caused. But I could see the briefest hint of fear in them when my fingers grazed over the handle of the gun Noah extended towards me.

"No, you're not like him. Please!” She begged while wrapping her arms around my hips, holding onto me.

The part of me that didn’t like the dark side of the mob life called to me, overpowering the thrill of seeing her weep at my feet and gently, I removed her grasp around me.

“I’m done,” I spoke flatly, pushing her away from me.

Mentally, I was exhausted from the everlasting day and was ready to call it a night when dark laughter pulled me back to the pathetic excuse of a woman.

“Your mother was right. You never could hack it in this business. I’m shocked your father signed you over to Noah Sebastian. He needs someone that can get their hands dirty. Maybe he’d be better off with me-.”

It all happened so quickly, barely having time to actually register what happened until it was too late. Me scurrying back over towards Noah, who still held the gun outstretched and my finger on the trigger, firing off two rounds directly into the woman's skull; right between the eyes.

The ringing in my ear due to the gunshot was deafening as I stood there motionless, unable to process any coherent thought or word. It wasn’t until I felt callused fingers around my wrist, pulling my attention away from the dead body at my feet and to the dark eyes of Matt, filled with concern.

“Let’s get you upstairs, Scar,” he gingerly led me back towards the hidden staircase, too far gone in a state of shock to realize Noah had begun cleaning up my mess.

NOAH

“Scar?” I called out into the dark penthouse.

After I finished cleaning up the mess in the underground thanks to help from Ash and Bryan, I made my way upstairs to check on Scar. Matt had taken her upstairs over an hour ago but I hadn’t heard how she was doing. It’s never easy, your first kill, so I knew the feeling of disgust and dread she had to have been feeling.

As I walked down the long hallway towards our bedroom, ignoring the one room that always remained locked, I paused momentarily just past the doorway of the bedroom when I heard soft cries echoing from the shower.

“Scar?” I called out again, this time with more fever as I ran into the bathroom, the sight stalling my heart.

She was curled up in a ball, still in her clothes and sling, soaked to the bone as she cried out. There was a frigid chill in the air, indicating she’d run through all of the hot water, but that didn’t stop me from kicking off my boots and stepping into the shower with her; clothes and all.

“Noah!” She cried, immediately pulling me into her, burying her face in my soaked black shirt.

“Shh,” I brushed my lips across her forehead, the bandage covering her stitches barely hanging on. “I’ve got you.”

“Am I?” Scar choked out, fisting at the fabric. “Am I a monster now?”

My heart shattered, pieces falling into the depths of my abdomen but I shook my head. Cupping her cheek, I forced her to look up at me, water droplets hanging onto her long lashes.

“No, angel. You’re a fighter. You did what needed to be done,” I held her closer to me, allowing her to cry out the guilt and anguish she felt.

She might have felt like a monster right now but I knew that she would evolve into something greater, far exceeding the expectations her family set against her. They were right when they thought she couldn’t run the McManus empire. Because she was made to run OMNS with me by her side.

First things first, however, we needed to have a talk with Matt and figure out what he found out about her mother's death.

#noah sebastian #bad omens #noah sebastian x ofc #mafiaboss!noah sebastian #tattooartist!noah sebastian #the coyotes cry noah sebastian #noah sebastian fan fictions

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death---dealer · 4 months ago

Text

Cross Contaminate. ( Noa x Human!Reader. ) Part Sixteen.

okay i lied so we got this chapter and then one more after.

Title: Cross Contaminate. Fandom: ( Kingdom of the ) Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Mentions of Ape Mating, Human sex. The next chapter is where this is gonna go absolutely ballistic lmao.. ) Words: 9.2K+ Pairing: Noa x Human!Reader. Summary: The last bit of remaining doubt is brought to light before you commence into the Mating Ceremony to be bonded to Noa. Nerves are fresh. READ THE SERIES HERE.

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It was remarkably fluid, your eyes staring holes of envy straight into two sets of hands, twenty fingers, that were communicating without many words, only a few grunts distributed when the infliction of the sign language wasn’t enough to convey proper and adequate feelings. Your fingers on the other hand… Glancing down at your scarring calves, you drifted the very tips of your finger pads against the pink nature of the healing skin and drew a deep breath in. Not as sharp as it was three months ago when it felt like literal knives of hot branded iron where being cased against your ribcage.

But, in the position you were in; feet splayed out in front of you on the grassy nature of the meadow now often used to play Monkey ball during the warming afternoons of the Spring Time when there was time to play outside of the erection of the new Village. Your upper body crouching in to get a better look at your own reminder of the hands of Death, breathing was difficult as you were squeezing your ribs against each other.

It felt good at times like this, in some sickeningly twisted manner. It reminded you that… Despite the care and affection you held towards the Eagle Clan, the culture and customs that were slowly becoming your own without remorse and with the utmost kindness… Noa’s features came into view as your perception of jealousy hazed into admiration for the stance of which he held himself. Confident… Radiant, almost in the way that the sun danced against his fur coat.

Honey-ladened around the very edges and a dark rich brown near the skin, he looked like he was ablaze to your vision and you wanted to touch him. Wanted to caress Noa to see if his fur had soaked up the warmth of the sun and if he’d be willing to share that with you as a lick of anticipation based shivers wracked down your spine. He must have known you were looking at him; the hackles against his shoulders rose ever so slightly at your gawk, lips parting when you were able to make contact with the gold-green eyes that had become a constant thought late at night.

His shoulder, your gaze swept it as Noa admired your expression. Content, the Ape thought to himself, more so now that you were allowed to move on your own two legs and often accompanied him outside of the healing hut you were in before.

Happy… since the moment that you held onto Noa’s forearms so desperately when you were first beckoned to stand, the Master of the Birds now still able to feel your fingers against the grain of his hide there as you were so afraid to fall as Soona chattered to him about the Eagle Enclosure. Noa knew he should listen; it was important but the fantasy ran wild and his thoughts were unable to tangle themselves away from you.

The wrapping of his long arm against your hips, the bone so soft to him as the Ape was recalled to hyperactive reminiscence. Tugging you against Noa’s broad chest, how you gasped for him as your feet staggered under your weight and how Noa felt the tips of his rounded ears prickle with an aggressive desire to hear more.

Another moment of secrecy that you wanted to hold onto and never let go as thoughts of the unknown made themselves ardently present as if they were not known in the words you and Noa had spoken before, in the actions of the past. Noa would… hold you again like this someday in a different… Context. He’d hold you, Soona’s words next to him becoming nothing more than a fevered motion, Noa would… always… Hold you…

Golden flecked and predominantly foliage eyes narrowed on you in a way that could only be described as acute possession. The way your hand pressed against your calves, the way you were looking at his own body in mirrored empathy. Both healed almost fully. It was hard at the distance you were enjoying the weather to actually see the indentation against his right shoulder cap, to see the missing splotch of fur from the wound that had taken its course against Noa’s tendons there, but you knew…

Your fingers flicked against the scar on your left calf. You knew it was there, you had kissed it with your eyes, your lips crying themselves into a pursed smile at the thought that someday you’d be able to lay your saliva against it and whisper how truly grateful you were that he incurred such a injury because of you. No… You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly running dry with agitated worry. Noa did it for you, not because of you.

An Echo and an Ape, heatedly marked in some ritual that you were forever going to share the bond of what caused the damage. A bond of more; your heart raced at that thought, the prospect that eradicated all your other senses that you were to be a Mated Pair and the imagination that ran wild with conversations of the past were all validated in a moment of confession.

The Chimp who always garnered your attention. Their leader in particular held the most affection and the last three moon cycles have felt like a dream from the moment that Noa touched you so passionately. Rising your left hand upwards, you placed it against your thigh.

The skin no longer yearned for just your touch, it felt rejected as you moved to swirl a figure eight against it. It begged and sang for Noa to bring his wrath down once more to the point of antagonistic desire of wanting him to catapult the deepest and darkest of bruises against the delicate flesh. But, for every vision of happiness you had, self-deprecation had to play his nasty hand right back at it to keep even you… The Human of choice that the Ape wanted more than anything, humbled and foregrounded. There was always the nagging sensation that you were just…

An Echo.

The reverberation of a word casted along the long narrow ways of the Ruins that were a melancholic call back of your own Humanity. How you hated it at times, letting the inhale you had taken in a minute ago release with a fiery exhale, the heated air feeling good against the brisk breeze that had decided to fall against the Village.

The way that the Male and Female Ape moved together, non-logistic as it felt at times when his hands were too close to yours, so natural as you watched her push onto his broad shoulder to get his attention as Noa had been staring at you in the open, the one that had healed remarkably quickly with a loud guff of approval over his intentions for the the next phase of the Eagle Enclosure.

Noa deserved better, your mind quipped at itself. He would always… Deserve better. Soona could give him what you lacked, what you were always going to lack and the idea was persistent in your mind as Noa began the courtship to garner your hand into something more. How quickly you were to accept it, how fast you wanted him to take you… Noa would always cause you to swallow and lap up whatever you could, just looking at his broad shoulders all the way down to the tapering of his thin waist… Everything was so inviting.

Canines bared themselves as he laughed at something that Soona said, the reflection of the sun so great against the sharpness that you wanted to reach out and touch them. Because they were yours to touch, right? Yours to… touch… Noa’s to dig into your body whenever he wants. The huffing of his chest drawing your attention. You wanted him to react to you that way. Carnal and primal intent, nothing more. Your jaw locked in on itself as you peered at Soona; a mixture of rageful jealousy cupped with self-hating ideas were falling quicker than your mind was able to rebut against. She’d be… better for him. A friend from the time they were born. Within a Sunset, they always told you with a smile. Anaya was there too; all three of them… Such good friends.

And their little Echo who was going to be the downfall of the great culture and customs that they had all grown with, all known and all encompassing.

A little Echo who was afraid of their own shadow at times and clasped too tightly to an Ape who was able to give them… Everything.

A twinge of saltiness hit the back of your irises as your eyelids fell shut. What… would Noa do if… You were unable to give him what he sought? Never explicitly stated, but it was implied with the urge to mate with you. The more animalistic tear that you both ignored at times when you discussed how soon you wanted to mate together, how soon was too soon? The Apes had a way of doing things, similar to Humans the first time that it was talked about in detail. Dating for you, courting for them.

Things were done a certain way to show interest though the interest was always there from the beginning. It made Noa feel comfortable, you realized. It opened him up to you in ways that were… New. Enlightening… The Eagle Clan master was sure of his choice, it was clear in the way he spoke to you, spoke to his fellow Apes… Parting your lips again, you wetted them before smearing your mouth together in deep thought and affirmation. He loved… you. You knew that. You loved him, and Noa knew that…

Two more months was the agreed timetable but what if in the next two months, Noa realized… To whatever is above, you cursed silently in your head as the tears of agitated anxiety hit more coarsely against the back of your eyes, now threatening to be released to tredge down your cheek. What if… Noa came to light that you were just… A Human?

Sure, you tilted your head and looked down at your feet, wiggling your toes in acute disgust at the fact that they seemed so weak compared to Soona’s who stood so grounded and hard against the Earth, her feet just as dexterous as her hands, sure you had heard stories from passing groups of Humans during your upbringing but they were used to fuel nightmares. Hybrids. Ape and Human hybrids. All terrible, all inflicted with irrational growth and permanent damage to their tiny bodies that they often didn't make it past the newborn stage, let alone to full term to actually sustain giving birth.

Giving… Birth… Was another aspect that would leave the Mother inebriated, tethering on Death itself again but that wasn’t the worry anymore. You’d die for Noa, you felt it was in the cards that you brought to the table and it was just a matter of time when it would happen. If you could give him what he wanted, then it would all be worthwhile.

A child. Not some sick science experiment that Humans had to just see what could possibly happen with a hybrid, but a baby… Made from love and adoration that was a rampant part of the relationship. Hard to see now, you were mean to yourself as you looked at Soona once more. You were weak. Would you even be able to carry a child for Noa when Soona herself was able to carry half her body weight with ease? You could barely pick up a thatch of wooden bricks that were used for the fireplace without straining yourself. She’d be better for Noa, you thought affectionately towards the Female Ape. She’d always… Be better…

‘Almost done.’

Startled, you were torn out of your decrypting nightmare and felt your shoulders jolt, the tiny hairs prickling against your body as Noa came to hunch beside you, his hands laying flat on their knuckles between the muscular thighs you wished your caress with both your own touch and your full body.

Noa… Could feel the shake in your heartbeat from the flatness of his feet against the ground, his gaze scrutinizing against the minute details of your expression. Glossingly, your eyes looked to the side as you drew a taut breath in, the way that your chest rose gave no satisfaction to the Ape as your breasts were not ample to move. You wished he spoke instead of using a sign, your gaze glancing back over at him as you caught the tail end of his stocky fingers moving.

“Are you---” That didn't sound like your voice and you hated it. How desperate it sounded, just two words drawing themselves into a whine of sorts as you stared widely into Noa’s eyes, his body rocking towards yours out of instinct once you locked pupils. “Sure that you don’t want to talk more with Soona? I-I can always go back to my hut for the night if you wanted to wor… work more with her.”

“Would rather spend my time with… My Echo.” A hand was touching your left calf and it took not one moment of reflex for you to raise it in a desperate plea for Noa to touch it more adoringly. Me, you shut your eyes and felt the fuzz of his fur dragging itself against your already sweat-prone skin, touch me…

The nickname you garnered from Noa was endearing, you loved to hear it at all times. But now, it felt almost like another knife was stinging into your gut and causing your organs to fall in on themselves as your brain was quick to rationalize it to just… Echo… Just… Human… You’d been through this time and time again with yourself. The want between you two.

The gravity that pulled your forms together, even more so as Noa brought himself into a seated position, the Earth whispering against his fur and coating it with blades of grass that were now just turning a lush green that reminded you of his gaze. You looked at him, mouth contorting into a frown of sorts that was trying to display itself as a smile. Noa looked at it with a squinted stare before drawing his attention back towards your eyes.

“I don’t understand why.” You admitted shamefully, not feeling the vibe of pessimism that was rising in your shoulders and against the base of your neck like a fiery undertaking had exploded from your stomach. “Soona and Anaya need you just as much as I do---” Noa sighed. You could hear it against your ears like a drum pounding but there was no doubt that it was merely blood rushing in as you suddenly felt a wash of anxious contempt. It was as if to say in a quiet and forlorn way that Noa was aware that this conversation would happen, the doubt would ultimately outride the pleasure. In his time of knowing you, there had never been seeped worry on your part. You always displayed the perfect confidence that he would mimic.

What… Was Noa meant to do now that it was shattering? That you were drawing away from him again? Something. Anything… He looked down at your half cusped calf and tightened his grip on it with affliction of tenderness. Affirmation, Noa hoped and brought his mouth together as his nostrils flared with contemplation. “Do not understand… Where is this coming from? Thought you were… Happy here.” You grunted softly in your chest which caught in your throat, coming out sounding more like a disgruntled whimper. “You know I’m h-happy here but…” You looked over his shoulder at Soona as she began chattering with Anaya about something. Most other situations, you’d have laughed at the interaction. How easy they were to communicate with one another, the mild annoyance that Anaya caused that Soona would just burden with a laugh. She enjoyed it just as much as he did, you knew as you looked at Noa’s shoulder. “I… Worry… A lot…” “Told you many times… Not t---” “Soona would be better for you.” “Do not want---” “I’m just a Human, Noa. What are we doing---” “We do not need to go through this!” Noa snapped at you, canines flashing for only a split second as his temper flared. Not often, but it did scratch at the innate part of your mind that the Ape was a force to be reckoned with at times and Noa was ardently protective of the things he held most dear. And now, your mouth falling shut slowly as to shut yourself up from digging into a hole you were unable to get out of, you stared at him and swallowed hard.

“We do not…” Hand leaving your calf, it rested lightly back onto the ground as Noa chose to stare at it instead. The pinkish nature was unnatural against your skin tone and it tugged at the part of his mind that begged into the submission of guilt. Always… guilt for causing you so great and extensive tears into the skin he loved but was never willing to admit it until recently.

“Why… is it so hard… To understand…” Noa raised his hand once more and you were accepting of any of the touches he was going to bestow onto you. Briskly, his knuckles touched at your calf and drew themselves upwards and tapered off right above your kneecap. “You were… my choice…? Do not want… Soona. Or any other Female. I have… Chosen only you.”

“A stupid Human---” Self-loathing did not suit you, you realized and felt a few tears prickle down your cheeks which you were quick to reach up and brush away, but Noa in his reflexes were quicker as he tugged his right hand against the upper part of your cheekbone and wiped them off as they came down.

“A… Smart… Beautiful…” Noa tilted his head in to captivate you into a forehead kiss but you were not feeling up to receiving such affection and turned your head to the side as you sniffled softly. Expanding his hand from your swiped away tears, Noa’s palm and fingers fell in line with your jawline and urged you back to look at him. Stay with me, he wanted to whisper but the words escaped him. You had to know that even after all of this time, words did not come easy to him and he needed time to process them in order for the meaning to truly come across. Stay with me, his green irises flooded into your own. “Mate…”

“I can’t give you what you want!”

You blurted out without reserve, not wanting to hold your tongue as you were aware of a group of Chimps rounding the meadow you were sitting in having just returned from a fishing expedition and carrying the evening meal against their back. Noa glanced at them as they witnessed what could only be described as an Echo emotional outburst and his stance told them to keep walking and to ignore what they were seeing. Skuttingly, they were out of the picture and Noa felt the fur on his shoulders fall back down as he no longer needed to be defensive of the situation you were drifting in. He’d protect you, you knew that. Always…

“Want nothing more… than you…”

“W-What about the Clan’s future? I-I can’t…” Whimpering softly, you finally broke down and brought your forehead crunching down onto his. Noa was brisk to sustain his weight and the sudden influx of yours that was brought along with it. “Soo--- Soona…--- Can give you what I can’t, Noa.”

Noa tilted his head into the affection that you were giving him and let his gaze fall shut for just a moment as he caressed the side of your face. Fingertips urged you into him even more, your hot breath eradicating against Noa’s mouth as he muttered, “What… do you think it is… I want it so badly?”

“A mate who can---” Your voice cracked and it wavered to the point where you couldn’t finish the allotted statement. “Wh… Who--- can… Child…”

Words were failing, you were reduced to a fumbling mess of barely comprehensible English as Noa scooted his feet the few inches so his toes were now pressing against your hip and you were able to nearly flush your entire face against his if that’s what you so chose to do.

So… The Ape sighed once again, captivating you to pay close attention to his Noa’s chest rose and fell slowly, beckoning you to a state of calm if you were able to follow his breathing. That’s what this was all about. The one… Unspoken undisclosed relation of the entire scope of things. A child. A baby. Your own. His own.

Stories were told, Noa had Dar tell him about them after they were first mentioned three months ago. Stories of Ape cruelties towards Echo and impregnating them unsuspectingly to play a game that would have never been dealt with in that manner. Gruesome they were, Dar’s words were a testament to the savage nature that Apes would tear themselves into given the chance.

Apes beyond the Valley. Apes from other lands who wanted to cure their own morbidity. The results were born tangled in on themselves. Aspects of the face are more Echo than Ape, their limbs more Ape than Echo. Their body coated with fur that was thinned, more like the hair that protected your scalp from the sun, not thickly placed as Noa’s.

They’d never cry, Dar told Noa. They never lived beyond the womb. That was the reality of the stories that she had heard. That was a reality that Noa wanted to keep from you, never knowing that Humans… Echo had the same stories where it was they themselves who inflicted the aspect of cruelty that spurred such agony in the unborn. Juxtaposed in everything, even Birth.

Noa felt that at times as he grasped the back of your head slowly, feeling the drench of your hair falling between his thick fingers. Morbid curiosity but not in that way that he wanted to destroy you to seek what you thought he needed. He just wanted you… All of you. Fruit or not, it never mattered. If fruit, then he would do his best to protect you during. There were too many variables at play that were to drag both of you down into a pit of worry that you’d never escape from. No fruit, then that was the way of the Eagles. That was what was meant to happen and you’d acquire an heir from a more unconventional aspect.

“That does not matter.” “The Eagle Clan---” Noa felt a state of pride that you cared so deeply about them. About their security in the future and it just further encapsulated as a rightful Mate for their leader. Sure, Soona from a logistical standpoint made sense. Sure, Noa knew he could trust her and would be able to lead and have assurance. But, she was not who he wanted to wean the rest of his life with and it tore Noa to shreds, much like his shoulder had been that night you came to defend what was his, what was yours…

It dug its claws into him like a ravenous Eagle that you were unable and unwavering to see that you were a choice that he made not out of necessity, but out of… Noa swallowed hard and nuzzled his forehead aggressively against your own, the sound echoing against you as he tightened his hold onto the back of your skull. Romantic love. The type you had described to him. The type that you gave him.

“You… are a part of Eagle Clan,” Noa was assured in that as you sniffled once more, the friction between your eyebrows and his browline brought you back to a more grounded state against the World. “You… Give everything I need just by… accepting… me…”

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All your possessions, what little you had gathered during your time alone, during your time without Noa and the Eagle Clan, all capsules of memories from your past, had been packed and taken away according to the nest you were to share with the Master of the Birds and soon to be christened with a Bond that the Clan had never experienced before.

Where you were going to be spending the night in, laying yourself in the full spectrum of his study. Drawing your shoulders in, you felt the push of your breasts against the ripstop fabric of your shirt and the dappling of your heart quickened. It was only a moment’s glance at the room, your eyes flickering against your shadow on the wall. The fire… How you felt kin to it. The dying embers glowing against your face and kissing a sweetened goodbye to your skin.

The jagged nature of the feathers that danced with the festering light against the wood panels of the wall as your casted shadow moved alongside you, the jutting protrusion of them against the headpiece that was fitted perfectly, tangling into a few braids that Soona was sure were easy to dismantle for Noa as was their custom.

Their… Custom… Swallowing hard at your projected reflection without a face, you nodded minutely at them as if to give them the approval that you needed from another Human. Noa was going to be taking all of these things off of your body, as per Soona and Dar’s instructions when you asked about it before they left. There was a shared look between them as they recognized that you… Had no idea what you were going into, empathy ran itself in circles.

“First, the headpiece.” Soona explained in a soft voice. “Noa… knows… Head first…” your mouth twitched at the words she was using, “Then the cloak… Different for this… For… Echo. Clothing comes after that, Noa might---” Laughing slightly, she huffed, “Get confused… Might need to help him.”

“What after that?”

Voice barely a touch above a whisper, Soona looked at Dar at the intimate aspect of your question. It was not in your Echo nature known to either of them for you to ask such private inquiries but it was eating you alive, it seemed as if your stare was desperate for confirmation as if you did not already imagine what was to come. Dar looked at you with a small nod that you acknowledged as being the answer to your speculation.

You were to do the same for Noa. Headpiece first… Then the cloak. And as if you had never seen him… Felt him, your hand squeezed in on itself, as if you’d never feasted your eyes on him, you’d see Noa bare in front of you. It would all be new; it would all be yours to explore for as long as you wanted.

As was the way of the Eagle Clan. Like armor from a battle, piece by piece would come off along with your clothing. The headpiece that wrapped around the crown of your skull and catapulted two feathers into the sky, the cloak against your shoulders suddenly felt heady with worry that you were going to fumble helping Noa take his off when the time came and them the flimsy nature of your own Humanness that carved into your skin like a suffocating second skin.

Clothing. Fabric. You were going to slate yourself trying to get the button of your pants undone, you were going to be innately sweaty for the Ape when he went to draw them down your smoother legs. You hoped Noa understood that; sweat being indicative of nerves that rattled from the knowledge that he was going to see you in a way that no other had ever seen.

The bicep band. You were unable to see in the darkened vision of your body against the wall and with gentle caressing fingertips, you swiped it. That would remain. The only piece of garment to see and to hear what Noa would do to you. To be involved in… Your attraction to Noa was always going to be justified.

Your fingers swished against the leathered nature of your banded upper arm, you just wished… That someone you knew was there to hold your hand; Soona and Anaya both having departed and awaited your arrival with the rest of the Apes, Dar was conducting the ritual and needed to leave and prepare herself.

They could not help you, Noa… Would only be there for you when you finally mustered the courage to leave the hut. He would be there for you, your mind pestering like a broken Eagle song. This was… not a joke. You were not going to leave and have to face the laughs of a hundred Apes at the audacity you had to think that you were special enough to be cared for by their Leader. This was… Happening.

There was only a second's worth of admiration for the space where the Chimp admitted his truest intentions to you but it felt like it was drawing into the Universe like an hourglass that only moved one speckle of sand at a time. Your customs were to become theirs, and their own were to become yours. The cloak adorning your shoulders, not as heavy as it appeared when Dar so carefully placed it, trying it in the front by your scalloped collar bone indentation where the bones fused to meet, became drastic with weight.

Words… As if they were needed at a time like this, a sacred ceremony of the Apes that you had no idea what to expect as Soona had placed the headdress on you accordingly only minutes ago before letting you linger alone in solemn silence for a few seconds before you were urged by Elder Luna to depart. Words did not exist here for you.

The shift in your stomach from apprehension to crude worried excitement was cardinal and made you nearly topple over from a sense of heaved unbalance. It was time. The entryway seemed so small, your vision blurred and you felt like heaving your body over to get sick. Anxiousness was present and she was not going to let you go.

There was only Noa.

There was only Noa. Your eyes squeezed shut as you drew a stifled breath that was tugging around the edges with a self-deprecating laugh as your body worked of its own volition and carried your twiggy legs out of the hut and into the exposed air for all the Clan to see you in their familiar garments that held the years of customs you were to make your own with consummation.

There was only Noa. Every step that you were taking towards the communal bonfire that now served as a flame of the departure of yourself to become one with another, toes were tickling the Earth and servicing dirt that had rid itself of the soot of destruction from flames.

There was only Noa. The way that he looked standing next to Dar, eyelids fluttering open to acknowledge the Elder who had come to beckon your presence for the rest of the Clan to admire, your peer ample with wonderment at the split second you caught hold of him and how left you shell-shocked and full of nothing but stammerance that was unable to come to the surface as throaty words.

How Noa… looked like you, your heart pressed itself to the very back of your esophagus, suffocating in the best of ways as the Eagle Clan’s leader looked you over with matched expressions. You were his, from the cloak that moved with your gait, to the way that your feet kissed the ground, bare and strong. Noa looked like you, you could not get that out of your mind, you bottom lip quivering as you exhaled slowly to bend your anxiety to your will. Like you were staring at a reflection of your own self in a mirror that had been shattered into tiny fragments and then scolded back together.

Noa reached his hand out for you, the action telling you in bated silence to come take your rightful place by his side. You looked like Noa… Parallel as your own arm peeked out from behind the cloak and the shudder of the breeze captivated against your thinned camisole. It threw you off, the chill in the air and in instant relief as his larger palm cusped your softened skin, hot and enamored, directing you to the spot that had been so vacant in front of him.

You stared at his face, sorry for taking so long to muster up the courage to meet him while telling your body to resist the temptation to just fall into Noa’s long arms. You peered into equally jeweled irises that played perfectly against the colors of his headpiece, against the hues of the beads that were entwined so deeply in them. Blues, grays and whites.

Green, you were going to wrap yourself up into the very leaves that danced beyond the Village’s edge in the night time as Noa released your hand much to your ardent disappointment. Feeling your fingers chase after him, you smacked at the hand mentally. All had its time and place. To smear the ceremony with Echo habits would not be kindly looked upon as you gazed out into the crowd of faces you were unable to properly see detailing from due to the flames proximity. That… did not mean they were unable to see you.

The Apes of the Clan, all bi-pedal to gawk and their stubby legs rose to grind the muscles of the calves in order to stagger over one another to get a better view of their Leader and as much as you hated to admit to any garnered attention… They were all needing to see your presence in full, in the coverings that held such a sincerity of affection and memories cased within each thicket of twine and each feather that resided.

All eager and desperate now to see what would come of this union as Dar clasped the back of Noa's hand against her loving palm and yours in the other. in adjacent positions. What would happen? You wanted to know and felt a rocketed shock lick up and down your spine. The future was unknown but that made it only more exhilarating and terrifying as Noa caught your eyes.

Frantic green flickers between your pupils were placed and shackles of hard breathing through Noa’s nostrils were noticed as your lips parted as if you wanted to whisper to him that it was all going to be alright.... Between your fingers rested azure feathers. Both Ape and Echo’s were from Eagle Sun’s undercarriage. Noa was a bit longer and thinned; yours stubby and smoothed around the otherwise cutting edges that reminded you of the flickering of a waterfall in the distance, catching the suns rays just right and momentarily leaving you both blinded with the happenstance of what was to come in mere minutes when the ceremony tied itself into an end and you were announced together.

The Master of the Birds and the new Mother of the Clan.

To take the position from Dar was bittersweet but she was assuring in how she held the back of your hand and admired the tender profile features of your face. She would be there for you, your eyes drifting to hers as you felt a tear roll down your cheek. Noa would be there for you, you longed to have him closer as you were toe-to-toe now. Inside of me, your body yelled at itself from inside the cage that you were able to let the Chimp into. Inside all of me.

Anaya and Soona, looking at Noa with such awe as if they had never seen this ceremony and did not know the intricacies before glancing towards you as you released a rather shaky breath that Noa used to keep himself from flying off the edge. The entire Clan who scrutinized your every move searched to latch onto something that might be considered dis-respectful but for Noa… You were steadfast, your toes sinking into the Earth as if you were an Ape this entire time and your arm wavering from a shake to a solid iron as Dar squeezed your knuckles in her encompassing grasp.

There was no way to look at anyone else, your eyes were acutely focused on Noa… The attention that was sought towards the way that his broad collar bones were holding the cloak of his Father and his lineage, soon to be yours, you felt a flare against your diaphragm at the exciting fear that laid against his body, soon to be replaced with your own heat and heady desires as if they were at the forefront of your mind from the second that Noa decided to save you.

Faithful and reassured, the Male Ape looked at you and drew a deep breath in that you were quick to follow suit in sharing exhalations with. The first of many, you thought with a brisked smile that Noa returned. His scent was clear to you and how it made you want to sink into every crevice that Noa had to offer. The pine of the bristing trees nearby as they had survived the devastation that traveled through the Clan months ago, the water of which became the symbol of your relationship, from the crushing torrents of the oceans itself to the softened breezes of a stream against a sediment torn waterbank and the grassy embark of the nest that was newly appointed to the two of you.

Everything backdropped and began fading away. This little while in the grand scape of things, like so many other pairs before you, was witnessed as a spectacle, one that was in the throes of celebration considering Noa’s status to begin with and there were now ways for you to now ignore the every present notion that some of the other Apes did not see the union as a blessing of future knowledge and advancement, but as a precursor.

They did not matter anymore, your heart quickened to a pace that did not feel humanly possible. Just look at Noa, your mind told itself over and over again. Just… Know… He chose this; Echo as a Mate. Human… To love and adore. You wanted nothing more than for him to crack your skull open here and to dig his way into your thought stream so Noa was innately aware that you felt the same. He was not an Ape. He was not an animal… He was yours. Mate. Lover. To cherish and hold.

Every line of feathers that were placed by a generation that had gone through similar bonding, rituals laid against your body and followed suit to Noa’s, but none of them were the same as this lingerance in time that you two were living through. History, you hated to say it as it sounded so mundane and normal…

Noa was the first to move upon command of Dar, his actions surprisingly collected and it dawned in your mind that he was working his way to keep you calm as Noa was able to sense the terse nature of anxiousness that you had carried alongside your body to the altar. “Place the feather upon the headdress of the Elders present and the Elders passed.”

A simple statement, but Noa felt the fur against his entire body light up as if it were apart of the bonfire that swept the Clan into an ambient night of flushed oranges and yellows, some even darkening to red against the more gray and black feathers that catapulted against your camisole laden chest and mimicked a dance that Noa was already ingrained in. Slowly and surely… The blue feather that Noa had held onto for the last five months was drawing itself to your headdress of twine, leather and beaded ornate.

You did not need to dip your head but found yourself doing just that to help ease the Ape into the first moment of intimate breakage of a virginal process. The shaft of the feather, thinned and small compared to the rest, slotted itself between the already existing gray feathers that were reaching into the Heavens itself. You could feel the shuffle of the action as Noa moved inwards. Your breath hit his chest, the movement of the feathers with your exaltation just the first of many you hoped for the rest of your life, only the remaining would be drawn against his bare fur.

No barriers needed any longer, Noa released the feather gently and brought his hand down to tuck a piece of your hair that was rampant from the pressing of the headdress itself behind your ear, cupping around the body part and down your chin to bring your eyes upwards to his own with a ghosting touch. Melting was not an option, you knew that. Falling over was not needed, but you felt it as you drew your shoulders back upwards, rustling the feathers alongside with your more confident stance.

Your hooded gaze refused to leave his own as you gasped lightly at the way that the Chimpanzee brought his hand down against your jugular. Breaking and shattering for both of you, your knees were brought together as he felt your pulsating heart. Part of the ceremony? You were unsure… Hazed, surely… Noa was the third feather just placed in the headpiece, blue and trusting; the one to take you into his arms and to grow with you and with this came the departure of your past life and discrepancies. For all of the Apes to see here, Noa had taken you in front of them all.

‘I will catch you.’

He signed with his free hand, carefully and disguised between your two bodies were were only centimeters apart from completely collapsing against each other like they were yearning to do for months. He must have sensed your sudden fear of unbalance, a small smile lifting onto your cheeks that Noa had seen the shuffle of your stance catering towards falling over. So Echo it was, you knew that but Noa never seemed to mind and fell right into it with you as a guilty pleasure that cured him of all notions that Echo were as bad as he had been told his entire upbringing.

“Very good, my Son.” Dar’s voice brought back the moment that you and Noa were suddenly thrusted into. The desperate need to be alone to see what was going to come of this as if it were not going to be anything beyond satisfaction. You needed it… Reaching your free hand up that was not gently holding onto the feather, you were fast to snap it back to your side as the rampant idea of grasping his hips was brought closer and closer as Noa looked at Dar with a nod of acknowledgement for her praise. How you needed him… How you were always… going to need him. It was just a matter of minutes.

“(Name).” Your name did… not sound like what you had been called your entire life. It sounded foreign and so far away as you Noa admired the way that the flames played against your face, the shadows casting themselves against your expression. From the tightened pose between your eyebrows from a wash of worry of doing something incorrectly, to the pursed smile you gave him that was seeking assurance from him… Noa loved it all. Flashing in his mind was the knowledge that in a few short minutes, he’d be alone with you. Not for the first time at all, but for the first time as a Mated pair.

Shy and reserved, ready to tear into each other but afraid of how to do so… Noa stepped a bit closer and you could feel his strong toes placing themselves on top of yours which caused you to softly giggle, giving the Ape a good view of your blunted teeth that he yearned to touch with his fingertip. How much duller than an Apes? How much smoother? He needed to know it all, everything about you…

“Place the feathers… of the Elder’s present…” There was a spotted glance towards those very Elders whose scrutiny you had to overcome still but there was headway in that as Noa was adamant of their approval despite the apprehension brought from your species. He did not care, he was willing to risk it all just to have the chance to hold you against his shaking body, clasping to a release that you were only allowed to give him. “The Elder's past…”

There was a shuffle from everyone that was caught in your peripheral. Upwards… Towards the sky itself that happily played a full moon along with the speckling of the stars. Those passed… Koro and many, many before him… You hoped he would be proud of his Son. You… Knew he’d be proud of his Son.

“Placing… The feather onto Noa… With that… Will come your duty to… Eagle Clan. To… Learn our ways. To become the Mother of our future.”

There was a speculative hushed whisper at that, completely justified but no longer a threat to your held position against Noa. The implications of Dar’s words were enough for the Apes to understand and think. Mother of their future, what good was that going to be when you were unable to provide even that? Noa was fixated on the way that your jaw locked, the muscles flashing in the light of the blaze to your left. Still a worry to you, he was unable to break that way of thinking when it was admittedly very ingrained in their culture, their way of life…

Carefully, Noa looked at Dar for a permission that was granted and then back towards you and grasped your free hand into his own. Commandeering… Reassuring… Things would turn out the way that they were meant to… It was clear from the moment that Noa, Anaya and Soona first found you. Your calves flared at the memory. It was clear from the first moment that Noa and you, like pieces in a game, fell into each other and refused admittance or to submit to each other as they both claimed to be the stronger player. It was… There, ever persistent as you were willing to risk yourself for Noa’s life. For the Clan itself. Everything was gravitas and pulled you in as you nodded finitely to Dar’s words. Apes clattered at that, you could hear Anaya and Soona hoot in adamant joy of your acceptance of what was to come for their Clan.

It was Noa’s turn to dip his shoulders, this movement being far more drastic than your own as he was taller than you.

You looked down and allotted into amusement at how his shortened legs fell inwards, his knees clutching at his weight as he positioned his large body perfectly for you to slide your chosen blue feather in. The muscles of Noa’s thighs were on display for you to perfectly see as your eyes danced their way back up his body.

From the thin waist you were going to sit on in what your Human brain conceptualized as pleasure, to the flaring of his chest, so drastic in size to his pelvis and it held such great power as it was adorned finely with the feathers. Shoulder to shoulder, you hungrily admired what was to be yours. The base of his thick and muscular neck, the shape of his nose, one nostril slightly smaller than the other but Noa’s facial harmony sang to you and made your blood feel heated.

Stepping forward, Noa’s line of vision was flushed with your feather adorned chest and the waft of your scent drove him to the very brink of what felt like teetering insanity like he was standing on a cliffside, ready to take a dive in knowing that he was unable to keep his body afloat and swim to shore. You were only wearing the shirt on top, Noa was able to see the crested nature of your sternum flat against the fabric as you raised your hands up and shifted the cloak tastefully.

Bare… It would only take a few actions until your skin was exposed for him to admire. It was hard to look up at you properly from the ridge of his browline so Noa found his gaze falling shut as you shuffled inwards with exposed feet against the dirt to slip the feather in accordingly. There was admiring satisfaction with a small gasp from your lips at how it fit perfectly, much to your delectations as you swept it into him, taking what was rightfully yours with one quick movement and Noa was fast to stand in front of you.

The darker speckles of the Chimps expression drew you in, always. The way his muzzle protruded and fell into a laxed ajar position which was framed by grayish-white speckled fur that playfully kissed around his mouth and chin followed by the heaved breathing he was casing against your face from pure driven excitement. You were soon going to swallow whatever hoots, hollers and huffs Noa had to offer and you were going to eat into them with a savage hunger no Ape had ever seen before.

Animalistically, you wanted Noa to bite you and scream into your veins in a way that a mere human had never experienced. Primally, you want to see how Noa’s body fit between your legs as he took you for the first time, undomesticated and untamed.

Needingly, you… Wanted to see your face in his.

Noa’s arm was around you without a split second. Hard, the staggering muscles ripped into your flesh despite the friction it caught from you being clothed in a ritual garment and a shirt. It was over, Noa knew. Noa had seen this before with another Apes of the Clan. He had to wonder if his parents themselves felt this pull to each other after their ceremony, but how could they when they were flushed with the known?

He had been a spectator at one of the ceremonies before and now all that rested for you was the unknown. You were given no time at all before you were crushing against Noa, your chest bouncing against the dense pectorals he had tickling along feathers and happily, the garments kissed and fluffed at their reunion as you were grateful to accept the Ape’s affection.

So ardent and full of himself, rightfully so as Noa tugged his forehead against yours. No longer chaste, it lingered longingly, intentions now blown out to everyone who was there to bare witness of this monumental moment. Noa… Was yours. The nearly two year culmination that began in nothing but fear of Death ending in a laugh of love as you bursted out into tears, your bottom lip trembling softly at how it felt to have him against you in front of the entire Clan.

How strange it must have looked to them all to see the confusing nature of an Echo crying at such an occasion but that did not seem to take away from their calls of jubilee. The shouts that were given from Dar next to you as she was soon to be joined in by Soona and Anaya, traveling like a soundwave across all of the others, some of which were even perched high above sitting on the winding elevation towards the family nests and the Eagle Enclosure as to see what they had only heard about in stories.

They were loud and boisterous in your ears like a wave against the cliffside that Noa had been staring down, beckoning to him with a song of temptation that turned into rampant affection as you grasped around the Chimps neck to keep yourself from toppling right over.

Flattening your face against Noa’s, you captivated him in what you needed to close the ceremony. From the flashing of your tongue against his sharpened canines, the embrace… Echo… Noa’s eyes fluttered shut from the pull your mouth gave him as you blessed him with a kiss. His hard breathing was against the downward slope of your face as you smooshed into him hard, nose bending into his flatter bridge.

Harder than you had intended, your entire weight was falling against his as you were afraid to pull away from the lip lock that Noa accepted as being one of those Echo things, and it was greeted by his arms stiffening at first before tugging you even harder against him.

Noa… Growled into your mouth, tongue sliding itself to barely touch against your own as the intentions of goodwill were running away from him. If he did not get you away now, there’d be agony to pay for everyone else having to witness Noa mounting you. Noa… swallowed into the kiss, taking your saliva down his throat. It was good… Sweet and carnal to mix with his own fluid. So unfamiliar as you panted upon disconnect, your forehead hard against his in hopes that Noa accepted what you had just given him.

It began here. The bringing together entanglement of Echo and Ape as he experimentally dragged his mouth against yours once more, your eyes shut as you felt Noa reaching a hand upwards to caress the back of your head and eclipsed green and darkened eyes flickered between yours in a silent inquiry.

“Th-that’s called a kiss.” You laughed at him, right against his teeth that you peppered another loving embrace onto with your mouth, tears streaming down your cheeks that he was fast to wipe away with one hand as the other kept you close. His taste lingered on your tongue as you dove in and placed a more gentle peck to Noa’s curled up lips once his slightly ajar mouth pressed together in a desperate bid to get his breathing under control.

“Echo thing.” He muttered, resting your feet back down onto the ground. “Will you… show me more…?” His words were not lost in the commotion as the actual celebration began that you two were going to ignore in favor of leaving. They could celebrate themselves… Noa… only wanted to celebrate now with you. Even after all this time, the agreement stood. Only now… You were allowed to demonstrate as if you had any clue what you were going to show Noa.

There was only one thing left, you said in silence as you carded your hands through his neck, Noa’s fingers reaching up and cupping at the sides of your face to hold you near to him, his pelvic bone, so different than two days ago, drifting and sliding itself against your navel as confirmation that he shared the sentiment. Raka was right. The ways of Caesar… Were right as Noa felt his heart pounding at his ribcage.

As if those things mattered in the moment but it truly did give peace of mind to know that Raka did not perish in vain. That Noa subsided to his words and drove himself into obsession just to have you hold onto his hand the entire time, whether you knew that or not. Echo and Ape were able to live side by side, even if it were just one pair. Even if it were just you and he; Noa did not want it any other way. And as you moved inwards once again,, Noa stiffened and brought his other hand upwards to hold onto your shoulder blade as you felt him shift his hip bones into your own, there truly was only one thing left…

“Would you… Like to go....” Breathing rapidly, you peered up at Noa and drifted your touch under the cloak that cased around his shoulders so you could touch his upper arm in reassurance as you were both flooded with adjoining nerves. “Nest…?” “Will you… take me?” There… You wanted to finish but your words caught themselves in the back of your throat like a terribly placed cough.

Noa nodded in silence, feeling the resistance of his body against yours as he pulled back, only enough to grab hold of your docile hand which your Mate was sure to lead in the right direction.. “You are… mine to take.”

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TAGLIST:

@ohwaitimthewriter @hera-annwn @saturnnie-03 @filliandkili @hadesbabygurl @supergoat12 @moonchild1433

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#noa #noa x reader #pota #planet of the apes #kotpota #kingdom of the planet of the apes #mae #planet of the apes x reader #owen teague #owen teague x reader

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zepskies · 4 days ago

Text

The Honorable Choice - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC

Summary: June 1872. Captain Dean Winchester of the U.S. Cavalry is tasked with one job: break a wild mustang. He just didn’t expect the woman who infiltrates his camp, intent on freeing her tribe’s horse.

AN: “Getting to know you, getting to know all about you…” ⬅️ If you’ve seen The King & I, then you’ll probably be singing that line in your head like I do.

Disclaimer: I’ve done extensive research for this one, both on the American Indian Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s (AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars and the Sioux Wars). Of course, one of my main goals is to avoid inaccuracies, both historical and cultural.

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: @jacklesversebingo Western AU

Song Inspo: The Spirit Soundtrack

Word Count: 3.1K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, protective Dean, historical tidbits, fluff

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🎙️ Listen to the podfic version here!

Part 2: Death & Sacrifice

Dean falls out of his saddle with a yell, landing hard in the grass. The impact knocks the air out of his chest and the hat off his head, not to mention the pain that rattles down his back.

“Son of a bitch,” he wheezes, while trying to get back up.

The woman jumps down from the mustang’s back and all but leaps on Dean. Straddling his waist and grabbing a fistful of his collar, she lets out a battle cry and raises a small knife at him. It’s probably no more than two inches long.

Dean may be on the ground with a smarting forehead, but he’s still got the upper hand. He grabs her knife-wielding arm and whips out his pistol from his belt. Her eyes widen, and she stills above him. The gun lies between them, aimed for her chest. They’re both breathing hard.

Dean has a problem.

Looking into her eyes, soulful and brown, the slope of her nose and her full lips, parted with shock…

He just can’t do it.

His finger eases off the trigger of his gun, and he lowers it to the ground beside him.

“I told you,” he says. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Her head tilts as she stares at his gun, then at him. She relaxes somewhat, and she backs off of him, sliding from his lap down to the grass beside him. Her closed fist with the knife comes to rest at her side. She gives him a look of wary bewilderment.

“You are a strange man,” she says.

Dean has to laugh a little, smiling at her afterward.

“I guess so,” he replies.

Her brows furrow. “You killed one of your own…for me?”

He nods, and his smile falls with a weary sigh. The hard part about that is he doesn’t feel much guilt about what he’s done. At the same time, he does, and the conflict churns in his stomach. He knew what kind of man Roman was. He was the kind of soldier that could’ve filled Colonel Sanderson’s shoes one day. A fellow soldier under Dean’s command...

And a sack of shit in human clothes.

Dean leans back on his hands in the grass and slides his legs out long. His stare falls to the earth between his boots. The ground is soft underneath him. Maybe it rained this morning.

“Yeah, that’s gonna make it tough when I go back,” he says. “At best, that’s a court martial. At worst…”

The Lakota woman frowns, her dark brows nearly meeting in the middle as she considers him. He wonders what she sees when she looks at him.

“Tell you what,” Dean said. “Give yourself and your horse a rest tonight. I’ll go back and tell them I lost you in the canyon.”

Her eyes widen further in surprise. He can’t blame her for it. He’s surprising himself every time he opens his mouth.

“Will they kill you?” she asks.

Dean shrugs. “Nah, I’ll be fine.”

She levels him with a firmer look, one that demands the truth.

His nonchalance wanes, and he sighs.

“They might,” he says.

She shakes her head. She seems to deliberate over something, but eventually she comes to a decision. Just when she opens her mouth to speak, a gunshot rings out and hits the ground not far from their feet. A warning.

The sound of hooves thundering on the earth reach them before they look up. Two horses gallop towards them in the distance, their riders wearing blue uniforms.

They both tense up, but Dean is the first one to move. He grabs her arm and helps her stand along with him. They scramble back and lead the horses by their reins further into the trees. They find a denser patch and a raised hill to crouch down and hide behind.

The mustang is too tired to go very far, but Baby is already making anxious sounds, protective of her rider.

“Shhh,” Dean whispers, and runs a soothing hand over her side. He leads her to lay down with her legs tucked underneath her.

The Lakota manages to do the same with the mustang after whispering to him softly in her language. There’s a trust between them, Dean realizes. They have a connection that seems to mirror his own with his horse. He doesn’t know how he didn’t see it before.

“Captain!” Benny calls out.

Dean grimaces, but he stays quiet. He turns to the woman and holds a finger over his lips. She stares back at him in apprehension. He begins to creep slowly around the hill, but she grabs onto his wrist. For a second, she looks just as surprised as him by the reflexive action. Then, she shakes her head at him.

Don’t go out there, her eyes say.

Dean smiles, and he gives her a reassuring wink. He gently removes her hand and gestures at her to stay where she is. He army crawls up the side of the hill. It gives him a vantage point to watch his men, who approach just a few feet down below.

“Captain Winchester!” Cas calls next.

“We don’t want to have to come and get you, Dean. Come on,” Benny says. He does sound reluctant, for his part. His voice grows more somber when he says, “Colonel’s given us orders to bring you and the girl back…dead or alive.”

Dean knows the position he’s put his own men in. He doesn’t blame them for following the Colonel’s orders. He just hopes they can forgive him for what he’s about to do.

He leaps off the edge of the hill with a yell and brings Benny with him to the ground. He sweeps Cas’s legs out from underneath him, then tosses a punch that lands on the corner of Benny’s chin. He kicks Benny’s gun away, and wrestles Cas until his pistol falls from his hand. The three men scrap and trade blows, until Dean is the only one left standing. His men are groaning on the dusty ground, slowly picking themselves up.

Dean’s heaving for breath as well as he leans back against the side of the hill. Despite that momentary victory, he knows what they all know: that this fight isn’t going to end until either they’re dead, or he’s dead.

“Where’s the girl, Dean?” Benny says. He implores him to see sense. “We take her back with us, we can smooth all this over with the Colonel. All of it, even Roman.”

Dean lets out a deep breath, but he shakes his head.

“Can’t do that, Benny,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

There’s a question circling in his friend’s eyes, but after a beat, Benny seems to know the answer to it. He picks up his gun from the ground. Just like Dean once did, the Lieutenant now has a choice to make.

He shares a heavy look with Cas. The two of them nod, before they focus back on Dean.

Benny’s hand falls, and he stows his gun.

“You died today,” Benny says. “We found your body somewhere in the canyon. Your horse too.”

Dean nods, with something of a smile. He supposes faking his death is the only option now. He rips the badge off his uniform jacket and tosses it to Benny.

“There’s your proof,” he says.

Dean shares a grim nod of respect with Cas while Benny examines the torn patch denoting a captain’s rank.

“Take care of each other,” Dean says.

Benny’s head raises, and he meets Dean with a somber gaze.

“Goodbye, brother.”

Dean doesn’t return to her until the men are out of sight through the trees. She’s still hiding along with the resting horses, waiting for him. That alone surprises him. It would bring a small smile to his face, if the weight of that goodbye didn’t feel so heavy on his shoulders.

He reaches out a hand for her. It takes her a moment to consider it, but she accepts his offer.

He helps her to her feet, after which, she quickly pulls her hand back. She’s wary of his touch, her face guarded when she looks up at him. Dean supposes he can’t blame her, even if it does strike a nerve. After what he just did for her…

His face becomes stoic, and he turns away to grab his hat from the dusty ground. “We should probably head out.”

She nods and calls to her horse to encourage him to his feet. Despite himself, Dean can't help but be curious. How did this girl manage to tame that wild beast?

“Does he have a name?” he asks.

“Mato,” she replies.

“Mato,” Dean echoes. “Does that mean something? You know, in your language.”

She eyes him wryly, brushing her hand over Mato’s hide.

“It means angry, like a bear,” she says.

Dean snorts. “Yeah, good name.”

He remembers his bruised side (and ego) from when the mustang threw him off his back.

Dean watches her with another realization as she gracefully mounts the horse. Baby has gotten up to her feet as well, already nudging the back of his arm with her snout. He rubs her nose in affection.

Then he turns to climb up onto her back, settling his feet into the stirrups and loosely grabbing the reins. He follows his companion’s lead farther into the forest, but he guides his horse to fall into step beside hers.

“Will you tell me your name now?” he asks. “Think we’ve been through enough together at this point, don’t you think?”

She considers it with a tilt of her head. She looks over at him with a small smile.

“Kimmímila,” she says. The syllables roll off her tongue effortlessly.

Dean raises his brows. “Kim…Kimmeela.”

She shakes her head at him, her lips pursing.

“Kimmímila.”

Lord help him, but he tries his best. His brows furrow.

“Kim…mila,” he attempts. She guides Mato closer and grabs Dean by his cheeks with one hand.

“Kimmí.”

“Kimmí,” he repeats with his cheeks squished. His face is starting to warm up, and not altogether in embarrassment.

“Mila,” she says with a nod.

“Mila,” Dean says. “Kimmímila.”

He’s treated to her smile, warm and true. She releases him, her gaze flitting over his face. Then she keeps riding. Dean grins to himself.

“Think I’m gonna call you Mila,” he says. Make it easier on myself.

She even laughs, a honeyed sound. “Yes, my father does too.”

“What does it mean? Your name.”

“In your language?” she says, in a tone that teases him back. She becomes thoughtful as she searches for the word. “It means…butterfly.”

“Really?” Dean remarks. She doesn’t strike him as a butterfly.

More like a lioness, he thinks, only somewhat holding back his grin.

She gives him some side-eye, despite her amusement.

“You think it does not suit me,” she observes.

“Well, I didn't say that—”

“I don’t think so either,” she admits. “There are many things that don’t suit me.”

Dean chuckles. He can imagine that.

“But my mother had a dream before I was born,” Mila says. “She saw beautiful wings, and said I would have a free mind. When I grew, and wanted to spend my days with horses more than cooking and sewing things, she didn’t call me free. She called me stubborn.” Her face begins to fall. “Maybe too stubborn.”

Dean offers her a rueful, sympathetic look. “Yeah, I get it. My brother always said I was damn hardheaded,” he says. “…Maybe we’ve got more in common than we thought, huh?”

Mila’s smile returns, however slightly.

“You have a brother?” she asks.

“Oh, yeah. He’s a lawyer, so he’s more needed back home,” Dean replies.

Damn. He really does miss his bookish little brother.

He explains to her about his family, his brother and mother who still live in Lawrence, and how he joined the army, in part to honor his father.

“What happened to him?” she asks.

“He died…in some cornfield near Sharpsburg, Maryland, fighting the Confederacy,” he replies, heaving a breath.

"Con...federacy?" she questions.

"The South," Dean explains. "See, most of our southern states thought they should be their own country, letting slaves plow their fields and mind their kids. I may have lived on a farm, but my father always paid his workers. He fought for the Union."

"So you fought among yourselves, over land that did not belong to you," Mila points out.

Dean falls silent. After a little while, he concedes her point with an incline of his head.

"Fair enough," he says, glancing over at her. “I think my dad thought the fighting would end with the war, but, uh...it never really ends, does it?”

Her expression of curiosity fades, turning more solemn.

“No,” she agrees. “…I am sorry for your father.”

Dean's a little surprised to hear that from her, but he nods his thanks. They continue to talk as the sun begins to set in the west. When it dips behind the canyon, they stop to make camp for the night, and he helps her catch a rabbit to roast on the fire they build together.

That night over the meal, she slowly opens up to him. He learns that she’s an only child, though she has a sibling-like bond with her older cousin, Šóta. She spends most of her days planting or harvesting their crops, depending on the season, as well as sewing, painting, helping the elders of her tribe with tasks, and helping her mother and aunt cook.

When the rabbit is gone, she unbinds her long, thick hair and untangles it while she speaks. She explains that the Lakota are just one of many tribes. There are six other bands of Sioux who live in this region. Along with the Dakota and the Nakota, they are the “Seven Council Fires” who have made the Great Plains their home for generations.

She tells him about the way her tribe lives, caring for one another, giving the land back as much as they take, and letting it rest. The men hunt and protect the village from the outside, but the women protect the inside, their way of life.

Most of all, Mila tells him, she loves caring for the horses. She goes out and rides whenever she can duck out of her mother’s watchful eye.

Dean enjoys listening to her stories. He likes what he learns about her, but also, he just likes the sound of her voice, smooth and steady, almost calming. He thinks she might like the sound of his too, the way she’s smiled at him, laughed with him, glanced at him when she thinks he’s not looking.

She still picks a spot as far away from him as she can to sleep though. She keeps the fire pit in between them. He even catches sight of her knife, hidden in the hand she tucks underneath her cheek. Evidently, she doesn’t fully trust him just yet.

It annoys him at first, considering how many times he’s saved her already. How much he’s sacrificed just to get them this far…

Until he remembers how they met. He remembers the disdain and anger in her brown eyes, then the mistrust, and the fear hidden underneath. He thinks of every experience she’s likely had so far with the U.S. Military, and anyone else who looks like him.

Dean settles down on the ground and stares up at the innumerable stars in a raven sky. He’s exhausted, but his thoughts don’t let him rest for a while.

At the very least, the way she looks at him now is softer than that first day.

In the morning, Mila watches the strange man wake.

He blinks and rubs his bleary eyes, yawning, groaning at the sun’s brightness like a child. She hides her smile by bowing her head over the apple she’s cutting with her knife. The orchards span wide across the forest, and soon he’ll find two yellow-red apples beside his head.

His brows raise at them, then he looks up at Mila sitting with her legs crossed behind the small fire pit. The wood there is just ash and blackened remains now, but it still carries the smell of burning.

“Morning,” he greets.

She nods back at him and pretends not to watch when he sits up with a groan, stretching and bending his arms high behind his head. He removed his uniform jacket to sleep. It allows her to see every dip of male muscle that his plain white shirt clings to, even in the long sleeves.

Her gaze furtively runs over the broad shoulders, the tapered waist, then back up to his half-bearded face, defined by a strong jaw and dark brows. The sun catches on his brown hair and teases the ends of it golden.

She would never admit it, but he’s not unpleasant to look at.

Last night, she declined his offer to travel with her until she reaches her tribe safely, but he was insistent. Again, strange.

So here she is, with him. Here they are.

Dean turns to see the horses grazing nearby. Mato no longer has the saddle and bridle his men put on him. He looks rested and at ease. He even whinnies at Baby, tossing his head a little. She answers him and flicks her tail. They continue eating together.

Dean smiles, then grabs an apple. He raises it to her in thanks before he takes a large bite. Its juices run down the corner of his mouth, and he wipes at it with the back of his hand. Mila can’t help but be drawn to the sight.

She tears her eyes away when he looks over at her.

“We have a long way to go. Three days, if the weather is good,” she says, continuing to carve pieces of her apple to eat. “We will know we are close when we reach the river.”

Dean nods in understanding. With a grunt, he gets to his feet and takes another bite out of his breakfast. She doesn’t expect the way he approaches her with a hand outstretched. She looks up at it, then at his expectant face.

“Come on. Let’s hit the road then,” he says.

Mila considers his offer for another moment. He seems to be making this a habit. Amused, she wonders if this is just kindness, or if the women of his people aren’t allowed to stand without a man’s help.

She pockets her knife, swipes her braided hair over her shoulder, and slips her hand into his, allowing him to help her to her feet. When she gets there, he’s closer than he should be.

A breath gets trapped in her throat as she once again looks between his warm hand closed over her smaller one, and his face. In the small space between them, there is a different kind of tension than before. Mila can’t tell what the man is thinking when he looks at her like that, but she doesn’t like it.

And at the same time, she does.

She takes back her hand, and she goes to the horses. She firmly ignores how her heart gallops, even as she rubs at her chest like it’s an ache that can be soothed.

She doesn’t hear Dean’s unsteady breath, nor does she see the way his green eyes follow her.

AN: *rubs hands together* Well, here they are! It's all starting to come together. What did you think of Dean's decision?

Coming up next, we have the final part: some action, some fluff, and some potentially perilous situations for Mila and Dean...

Next Time:

“Yeah, about that…I’m thinking your tribe doesn’t take very well to outsiders,” he says. “White men in particular.”

Mila presses her lips together. He can tell she’s been thinking the same thing, but she turns to him with a determined set to her features.

“I will protect you,” she says.

Dean frowns. He doesn’t like the sound of that. On one hand, it warms him that she seems to really mean it. On the other hand, he doesn’t want to know what it’ll take for her to protect him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.

She turns her face away and doesn’t seem to want to answer at first.

“Mila…”

“The Chief is my uncle,” she says at last. “He will listen to me.”

Dean blinks. Well, that changes things…maybe.

COMING 11/17!

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misty-slays-blog · 1 month ago

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So as promised, here's the translation of the interview Morfydd did with Knack in August. I am by no means a translator but I did my best. It's not too long. Some rather interesting bits about how she views Galadriel (also the author of the interview gets Haladriel lol). If you want to read the entire interview in Dutch, it's here (I archived it since you need an account to read it on the Knack site, this way you can read it in its entirety): https://archive.ph/HekvQ

Morfydd Clark keeps getting calls for freaky roles (like for a Galadriel who flirts with Sauron)

During the second season of Rings of Power, the young elf Galadriel will be haunted by the ghosts of her past. Much to the delight of Morfydd Clark, who previously made name for herself as a possessed nurse in Saint Maud. “I love looking for those extreme roles.”

“I would have to board a plane to go home and I can't do that, I thought.”

When Morfydd Clark arrived in New-Zealand five years ago, she had no idea what awaited her. The production for The Rings of Power was notoriously secretive. She knew she'd auditioned for a prequel to The Lord of the Rings. But that she would be playing Galadriel, was new information. Clark had been introduced to the franchise as a child, during a family outing to The Hobbit: A Musical in London. Throughout the following years, she collected illustration books about The Shire and the Peter Jackson movies in her bedroom in Wales. “Unknowingly, I've been preparing for a role in the Lord of the Rings universe for fifteen years”, she tells us through Zoom.

But no book could have prepared Clark for the massive scale on which The Rings of Power operates. It isn't the kind of production with casual fans who are willing to swallow everything. And on top of that: the production value was through the roof. Costing a total of 465 million dollars, the series is the most expensive one ever made. One didn't have to look hard to see where this impressive budget went. From the underground dwarven kingdom Khazad-dûm to the eye-catching splendor of Númenor: even those finding the prequel rather lacking – the series has some flaws – has to admit that the cinematography is breathtakingly spectacular, paling other fantasy franchises in the process.

On top of that, there was the fact that Cate Blanchett's adaptation of Galadriel in the original trilogy has turned into movie heritage. “It helped that I play Galadriel during an entirely different moment of her life, long before she became the Lady of Lothlórien. I delved into the history of the elves, who were pretty wild actually. Did you know that they used to throw each other off of buildings all the time? I wanted my version of Galadriel to be strikingly different from the Galadriel she would eventually become.”

Clark's version of Galadriel is a young, brave warrior who indeed barely resembles Blanchett's ethereal elf. The consequences of a rather unfortunate romantic experience might change that (spoiler: the hunk Galadriel flirted with the entire first season? He happened to be Sauron. Even elves can miss red flags). “She realizes now that she, too, might have darkness within her. Her sense of self is in shambles. We all experience this feeling sometimes, but not everyone revives the evilest being in all of Middle-Earth in the process.” The second season is all about the consequences of this error of judgment. “Sauron haunts her the entire time. She finds herself stuck in her own horror movie.”

Clark describes this new and spooky chapter of her life as 'coming home.' Before her career took her to Middle-Earth, she was well on her way to becoming a Welsh Mia Goth. She played in BBC adaptations of Dracula and His Dark Materials, and in 2019 she was promoted to indie darling thanks to Saint Maud, a psychological horror movie made by Rose Glass (who continued her streak with Love Lies Bleeding) in which she played the titular character. “My parents keep asking me why I am always cast in those terrifying roles. But I think it's wonderful. I love looking for those extreme roles. Although, it is kind of strange to always receive calls for freaky parts. Is that the kind of vibes I have?”

Her freaky vibes are definitely lucrative. Among future roles are a Hamlet adaptation and a slasher, earlier this year she acted alongside Matt Smith in Starve Acre, a British indie horror movie. “That was a lucky coincidence. Matt Smith just finished his takes for House of the Dragon, he has given me so much good advice”, Clark says. It was the first time being back to a small set “where the entire crew fits into one room.” “I don't think the sets for Rings of Power will ever feel like the norm.” Because while every series goes for as much CGI as possible these days, with Rings of Power, the crew aims to build as many of the sets as possible. “Wandering around in such a magical world still feels like winning the lottery each day.”

Despite her success, Clark's acting career started quite accidental. When she was diagnosed with ADHD at the age of seven, a directionless school career followed. She quit when she was sixteen. According to British GQ, her teachers called her 'hollol di gwilydd', meaning 'completely shameless'. It wasn't until she began acting, that she found some sense of peace. And when playing in paranormal and magical fiction, she discovered a world in which she can be herself. “Fantasy like Lord of the Rings reverses the status quo of how we think the world should be. I wanted Galadriel to be free of the things that were imposed on me when I was younger. She isn't apologetic. She never doubts whether or not she said the right thing. And that might be the best part about playing her: Galadriel is shameless.”

#morfydd clark #rings of power #rop #trop #trop season 2 #haladriel #saurondriel #galadriel

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ctrlhope · 9 months ago

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📂 CTRLHOPE : Welcome to the Masterlist! May all of you dreams be found within its pages ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

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Warm (m) » 3.6k

✰ the second yoongi steps into your apartment, any idea of a quiet night in instantly vanishes from his mind. a/b/o au

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The Pitfalls of Silk (m) » 20.0k

✰ synopsis: The winter gods are out to get you. That could be the only possible explanation for the series of bad luck tumbling before you— tropical vacation cancelled, snow locking you inside. Hell, even your shovel broken in half has got to be the gods playing some sort of trick on you. Pulling you along, making decisions for you as they guide you along the red string of fate. Guide you towards the very spider that found his way into your basement. Allowing him to fall into your heart all the same. hybrid au, soft yandere/dark, soulmate au

-> part of the rest relax reserve series

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Love Thy Neighbour (m) » 4.5k

✰ synopsis: Jimin is a patient man, at least, he thinks he is. But you test him so much. Can’t you just be good? Be so pretty for him? He knows you want to be. Knows you can be so perfect, just for him. dark content, yandere / dark au, non-human jimin

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Bound By Blood (m) » 16.0k

✰ synopsis: A servant to the state since birth, forced to work for the royal family until you die. These are the conditions that have granted you life, yet are they are the same ones that can take everything away. He can take everything away. But he would never, for you are his future, his eternity. royal au, soft yandere/dark, romance

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Butterfly (m) » 3.6k

✰ he’s been watching you. waiting, stalking his prey. waiting for you to tangle your pretty little wings into his web. chasing you. hunting you. making you play his games until you realise the truth that lies behind your eyes. dark content, serial killer au, yandere au

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Rest, Relax, Reserve » one-shot series m.list

✰ status: ongoing (1/7 complete)

✰ genre: hybrid au, yandere au, read individual chapter cws

✰ synopsis: Welcome in! Here at the Humbolt Insect Hybrid Conservation Park, we implore all of our guests to experience the wonderful world of hybrids living in their natural habitats! Feel free to interact with any hybrids that may approach you— however, please keep in mind that this is a no-touch park, these are wild animals after all. Please stay safe, stick to the trails, and enjoy your stay!

✰ disclaimer: all members of bts are face and name claims for all works on this blog. the pieces on this blog are entirely fictional and are in no way meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. any representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

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theblueflower05 · 1 year ago

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Yawnyewla(Broken Heartedness) | Part Two

A/N: It has been a crazy month or so, real life has brutalized me. Sorry you guys are getting this chapter later than planned Avatar + the Omegaverse has been my comfort lately. @cinetrix you have been especially supportive and I lova ya bby. Thank you for making me some Mega Neteyam to keep my writing brain on! The art below is made by her and omg right?

Word Count: 10k+

Warnings: Alien sex. Alien Genitalia. Oral sex(female and male receiving), Fingering(female and male receiving) Cursing. Angst(it’s me, duh) and mild talks about past grooming. Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics.

Summary: You’re the Metkayinan Olo’eykete in training, but sometimes even you buckle under the crippling pressure. Will Neteyam be there to comfort you?

Omega Neteyam x Female Alpha Reader

Series Masterlist

<Part One

Part Three>

You only ever touch me in the dark,

Only when we’re drinking can you see my spark.

And only in the evening would you give yourself to me,

Cause the night is your woman and she’ll set you free

-Lies, Marina and the Diamonds

Your life had always been ruled by carefully crafted routine. Early mornings as the sun rose on the glittering sea, and late nights after most were tucked away.

Being the eldest daughter in any family came with its own list of responsibilities. But for you, the eldest of the reigning Olo’eyktan and Tsahik who also happened to be an Alpha, it seemed like you had been born with duty running through your bloodstream. Burdened with glorious purpose.

It had been clear from an early age just what was expected of you. A life, lived for your people, was your destiny.

And at most times that was okay.

You were happy to serve, it was in your nature to care for others. Good Alpha’s, your mother had taught you, are not ruled by ego. Or violence. Strength comes from within, is a honed skill like fishing or net weaving. Strength is taking care of your family. Helping the elderly and the young. Making sure everyone has a full belly before they lie their head down for bed.

You we're a good Alpha, or at least you tried to be. You knew you could be if you tried. If you could just be calm for long enough to focus.

Ronal liked to say that you were more like the ocean than anyone she had ever met. She had birthed the sea incarnate- with its strong crashing, never faulting, waves. It’s vastness. It’s life-giving vitality.

And its wild nature.

There was something unsettled about you. Deep down, you would never be still. There was a need to learn. Explore. To fight and scream and run. An untamed side of you that Ronal and Tonowari had watched with equal parts amusement and hesitancy during your childhood.

From a young age you’d jumped from the highest cliffs. Sailed out past the reef. Engaged in fights with warriors twice your size, Limping away from tussles with a crimson tinged grin and your big blue eyes sparkling.

The older you get, the more you try to temper it. You desperately attempt to shove it somewhere hidden and out of sight. You can't be what anyone wants you to be with all of this restlessness inside of you. You can't support your father's throne or keep your people healthy-

There’s no room for it. For you, at your core. In your soul.

No one wants a wild woman.

You’d heard it before, it had left a bitter taste in your mouth and a stain on your heart.

In your younger years you were a bit of a trouble maker, but you’d like to think you'd reformed. If only a little bit. It’s not like you truly had the time to get into messes anyway.

Especially not at this time of year.

Though it’s sacred, a time for joy and festivity, it’s exhausting. To say the least. With the Iknimaya ceremony and The Return of the Tulkun looming in the very near future, the village of Awa’atlu was a buzz.

There’s preparations to be made. And endless list of duties to fulfill-

And yet, this migration cycle, you lag.

Usually, you run around like an austrapede(chichen like creature) with its head cut off. Heading to your parents every word. Not getting a moment to truly breathe, your sole focus on making sure that the ceremonies went smoothly-

Something else entirely has your attention. A certain golden eyed man that had bewitched you completely.

You thought you had known infatuation before Neteyeam.

You've certainly had crushes before.

There had been others who caught your eye, definitely.

But this? You’d never felt anything close to this. You think about him when you awake in the morning and before you fall asleep. When you’re not with him, you're aching for the moment that you can find time to slip away and get your hands back on his hard, muscle corded body. Your mind constantly assaults you with images of him. His broad shoulders and long braids. His mouth, swollen and puffy. His deep moans as you bring him over the edge-

“Look at you” Your good friend, Akime, grunts through a laugh. Breaking you from your reverie.

You’d been sat with a group, working on repairing weapons for the Great Hunt that would ensue after the Iknimaya trials.

But Neteyam had walked by with his father.

Doing something mundane, toting heavy woven baskets to the big main Mauri for dinner. His arm muscles bulging in a way that had you greedily tracing his form. He’d only given you a small nod in acknowledgement as he passed. An even smaller smile.

“Shut your mouth-and focus on your whittling. I pity the poor soul who ends up with that lopsided spear” you retort with a roll of your eyes.

You're not embarrassed about being caught ogling. You knew you weren't the only one. The Omiticayan transplant was one of the most gorgeous Omega’s that had ever stepped foot on the islands. Everyone was a bit dazed.

“He’s very pretty, I'll give you that. But he’s so stand offish- I could never see you with a mate like that, yawne(beloved)” Akemi was your closest confidant outside of your family.

A Beta who stood much taller than you and had the brawn of two men but was the kindest Na’vi you’d ever met. A gentle giant so to speak. He wore his dark hair pulled into a loose bun at the nape of his neck most days and black ink tattoo’s swirled around most of his body. A decorated warrior and hunter with the tattoos to prove it.

Everyone had assumed the two of you would mate, until he met his husband. Another Beta Male from one of the smaller islands. The two had all but raised Akemi’s cousin, Roxto, after the abrupt and tragic passing of the younger boy's parents.

“He’s really not,” you sigh, shaking your head as you sharpen the blades.

“Oh? I don't think I've ever heard him speak more than a few words at a time. And he always has that look on his face- like he swallowed a Wonwon fruit(lemon like fruit)”

Neteyam has many skills, you’d learned as you’d spent endless hours training him. Being a social butterfly is surely not one of them. He clams up around big groups, gets nervous and awkward. You find it endearing, even though you know the Omega is really hard on himself for it. He’s actually really funny and easy to talk to when you get to know him.

“He’s shy, be nice” you chide your friend easily. “There is nothing wrong with him not wanting to gab all day with any and everyone”

“Hah! I guess your loud skxawng ass can talk for the both of you. You never shut up” Akemi dodges the small shell you throw at him “But really, he’s so different then what you usually go for-” Akemi goes on and if it was anyone else you’d shove them off. Tell them to mind their own business.

Neteyam had made it clear that he wanted to keep what the two of you had under wraps, at least for now. And even though that wasn't what you particularly wanted, you respected his wishes.

“And what is it I usually go for, pray tell?” your brow bone rises, confrontational and curious.

“People just as annoying as you” Akemi dead pans and you can’t help but snort “You like Na’vi who challenge you. Who are just as bold and loud and daring. Is he not too…soft for you, my friend?”

In the past you had been attracted to men and women who matched the spark in you. And it had always ended in misery. In yelling and fighting and you questioning if you're meant to be alone because in partnerships you seem to always chase away the other.

But with Neteyam it’s different. He isn't a challenge, he doesn't want to knock you down a peg or make you change…he only wants to be your equal.

“Just because he’s quiet doesn't mean he’s soft” you defend the Omega like he’s your own, because that’s all you want. You want to wear his bite “He’s actually the fiercest warrior I’ve ever trained. His skillset is unmatched. I mean, I can keep up with him. But just barely”

Akemi chews this over. Continuing to carve at the spear in his hands “It sounds like he’s impressed you” and that's not an easy feat. You both know. “I'm excited to see his performance for the Iknimaya”

You are too. You can't wait to watch Neteyam shine.

The ocean had not been his chosen terrain, but oh. How beautiful it had been to watch him master it. He rode Tsurak like he had been doing so for years. Uses the crossbow like it had been made just for him.

You liked your partner's competent, and Neteyam checked every. Single. Box.

“If he has you caught in his net, why don't you announce your courtship?” Akemi questions because he knows he can. That he’s your best friend and that you and those walls and that strong strong heart can be open with him.

You hesitate. Chew on your lip for a moment.

“He’s not ready for anyone to know yet” the words are hard. You get it. Neteyam’s not a fledged “adult” member of the Metkayina yet. But many court before their rites, before mating.

“Y/N…”Akemi sighs and it makes your hackles rise.

“It’s fine. It makes sense. He’ll come around after his Iknimaya- that’s the only reason why” you insist to your friend. To yourself.

Akemi purses his lips before he speaks. Choosing his words wisely “I hope that is the case, I truly do. But…you’re my closest friend. I only want your happiness, and investing your feelings into someone who doesn't reciprocate isn't the smartest move, yawne. I just don't want to see you fall into any old patterns”

He doesn't want to watch you pledge your love to another man who's going to stomp all over your feelings. It’d been devastating to bare witness to last time.

You don't like to speak of it. Try not to even think of it. But it doesn’t take from the fact that it had happened.

“I will be fine” You insist, a smile plastered on your face, fake as can be “I’d like to think i’m not that stupid anymore”

Akemi’s nostrils flare “You we’re never stupid, you were young. And vulnerable. You know that right-”

“Please” you interrupt him, head shaking firmly “I don't want to get into this now” or ever.

Most people know not to push you.

That you’d fight back tooth and nail when you feel threatened- but much like your family. Akemi isn't scared of your claws and slick mouth. He’s very much going to push the issue- but is interrupted before he can.

It’s Ao’nung and Roxto, coming down the beach.

Rough housing, tails bumping each other. Even if he hadn't been Akemi’s kin, Roxto would be your favorite of your little brothers friends. He kept Ao’nung in check.

“Y/N!” your brother calls as he approaches- “Sempul wanted you. Says he needs you to help with the Mauri renovations or something.”

He plops down beside you, all the way in your personal space, and you give him a look. Overgrown man-child. Whatever was he going to do when mother had the new baby and he wasn't the youngest anymore?

Roxto stays standing, greeting you politely like the good boy he was. Akemi had done wonders raising him. He turns to his cousin and speaks about plans for dinner for their grandmother.

“When?” you question. You really had hoped you’d be left out of that project, you weren't much of an architect and painting and plastering all day was b o r i n g beyond compare.

“This afternoon” Ao’nung continues.

“But I’m training Neteyam later” you push, your stomach dropping at the thought of not getting to spend your usual time with the Omega. It seems like these days the trainings were few and far between- and after his Iknimaya, he wouldn't need them at all.

“Not today. Tsireya’s gonna have all of ‘em, free diving practice I think” Ao’nung continues, as he reaches for your canteen. Taking big sloppy drink.

“But-”

“Fathers orders, not mine” Ao’ shrugs and you know that he’d had no part in the decision making. Was only an unfortunate messenger.

Still. You snatch your leather canteen with a hiss, standing up. “That's mine, you little freeloader. I hope you’re going to be helping Tsireya with her lessons, your still on thin ice from the Lo’ak incident”

“I am going to help!”

“Good, you better be nice to them” you warn as you gather your belongings and prepare for an afternoon of helping out with Mauris instead of with your sweet Neteyam. Your mood soured greatly.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve been nice lately, have I not? Roxto, haven't I been nice?” Aonung turns to his friend who does nod.

“As nice as Aonung can be, yeah” Roxto agrees and Neteyam punches his shoulder playfully, insisting that he had been a damn saint.

“Uhuh. Keep it up. Tsireya will tell me if you so much as whisper one sideways remark. You boys have a good rest of your afternoon” You give Ao’nung a pointed stare, ruffle Roxto’s hair, and pat at Akemi’s shoulder as you depart.

“We’ll continue our conversation later, Y/N!” Akemi warns, your back already turned.

You just wave at him without turning back- happy to have escaped the trauma laden conversation.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You end up crawling into your bed that night, dead tired. You don't even burrow under your bed mat- instead you lie atop the covers. You have splinters under your nails from the hay like palm that was used to construct the pods. The afternoon had been long and boring, just as you’d known it would be.

But the worst part is that you hadn't gotten the chance to see Neteyam. To taste his saccharine kisses. As you stare at your beamed ceiling you think of only him.

When you fall asleep his face is behind your eyelids.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

After days and days of activity that had seemed to keep the two of you apart, you’re ready to snap. Antsy and eager and needy for just a moment of Neteyam’s time.

The Omega doesn’t seek you out- he just gives you those tiny little smiles and private glances across the fires during communal dinner. It drives you mad, your fingers itch to run through his hair. Your lips want to rerun that familiar path down his chest-

You know he has to miss you as much as you miss him…right?

You don't allow those seeds of doubt to plant. Instead, your brain, desperate for the chemical rush that came with being around Neteyam, begins to plot on how you’d get to see him next.

As you go through the motions of your day, there’s only one thing on your mind and that is the fact that you need to see the Omega.

You have to ask around to figure out where the eldest Sully sibling is- he’s helping out in the orchards. His expertise tree climbing skills of great use.

Hidden in the shadows of the tropical trees, you wait. Lurking like a predator. You feel like a puluakan stalking her prey as you watch Neteyam from a far. He’s helpful and polite, his usual quiet self as he works with the other Metkayina to harvest the ripe fruits and vegetables.

While everyone else starts to head back- he stays. Neteyam insists that can get the ones from the tallest trees on his own. He’s happy to be useful.

Perfect.

You’re a hunter, tried and true. The only place in life where you could hone in on your thin patience, be quiet. Take your time. You move quick and silent, closer to your target. Your heart flutters fast, visibly beating in your throat and your kuru tingling with excitement.

When he’s nearly within arm's reach, right there, you’re prepared to pounce-

-Of course, he pounces first.

A brutal flash of clashing blue as the two of you collide.

It takes all of your strength, years of training, but somehow it ends up with him pinned to the thick base of the Yovo tree. Panting and staring down at you with wide tawny eyes. The corner of his mouth pulled up into a smirk.

“Hi” Though you’re a little breathless from the scuffle, you grin.

One of your hands on his shoulder, fingers digging into the hard muscle there. The other pressed against his waist. So close to him that you can feel his body heat.

“Hi” he’s so beautiful it hurts to look at him for too long. Of course, what most don't know about Neteyam- is that he’s a smart ass “You suck at stalking. I could hear you coming the moment you stepped out of the bush”

“No I don't” You cajole, a bubble of laughter building in your fast expanding chest “We’ve barely spoken in a week, and the first thing you do is be mean to me? It’s almost as if you didn't miss me at all”

“How are you gonna know to correct your form if I don't tell you?” He jests, struggling a little in your grip for good measure.

You give him a warning hiss.

This little game the two of you liked to play was usually fun, the push and pull of it all. A teasing filled hunter and prey routine that more often than not ended with Neteyam spreading his thighs as he finally let you have him.

You hadn't kissed your boy in days. You didn't have it in you to wait.

“I was hoping you’d want to tell me something other than how shit you think I am at hunting” you sigh, deep, for dramatic effect.

“What kind of other things?” Neteyam’s eyes keep flickering from your own, down to your mouth. His pink tongue peeks out, runs across the plush of his bottom lip and your knees feel a little weak.

“Things like you’ve missed me” you disclose, because you just can't help it. “Cause I’ve missed you”

You can feel him loosen under your hands, the fight draining. His ears twitch, lowering a bit, and his gaze goes unbearably tender.

“I’ve missed you” he confirms after a moment and it's all you need to hear.

You lunge, groaning the moment you're able to feel his kiss. It’s warm and wet. Full of little nips licks that drive you wild because they feel way too good. An all consuming kind of good- you feel him in your bones. When you release him, your grip on his shoulder falters, his arms wrap around you strong and tight.

You pull away, lips tingling and shiny “How much did you miss me?”

He groans and presses his lips back to yours, annoyed as you keep the kiss shallow. Pecks and light presses while he tries to force his tongue into your mouth. You herd even closer, caging him against the bark. His snuffles, cool air through his snout in annoyance “Y/N, come on”

Instead of responding, your hands begin to drift, fingers dragging across his indigo skin as they take their feel. Oh, this body. How you adored it. His strong shoulders and broad torso, all of that rippling muscle so sensitive and clenching under your touch. Your lips leave his, kissing sloppily across his cheek and down the hinge of his jaw. Stopping only when you can press your face into the place on his neck, right behind his ear, where his scent gland was pumping out that hypnotic musk.

Neteyam’s pheromones are like nothing you’ve ever encountered. They’re knock you on your ass strong, for one. You’d been able to smell him from across the beach the first time you’d met him-back when the Sully’s had descended from the sky. For two they’re foreign and unlike anything you’d previously encountered.

He smells of pine, herby and sharp. Of honeyed tree sap. Of fruit you’ve never learned the name of and the dew that stuck to the foliage in the mornings. It tingles in your nose as you inhale deeply, getting greedy lungfuls of his essence. Very much the scent of a virile young Omega in his prime.

Neteyam gets all shivery when you scent him like this. His head lulls to the side as he presents his entire smooth neck to you like a fucking prize.

It’s heady, the way he gives himself to you. How are you not supposed to be in love with him?

“Missed you so much” he whimpers as you lap at the gland “You’ve been so busy. I- ah, oh-” his speech is broken up. Overwhelmed by your mouth assaulting him and your dainty hand attempting to slip under his tweng “I didn't want to bother you”

You don't pull away when you speak, can't manage to tear your mouth from its ministrations. Instead, your words vibrate right into his skin “Please bother me, paskalin(sweet berry). Bother me all the time”

His laughter is as sweet as his scent, and you want to bathe in it.

Neteyam is an indulgence and you're gluttonous for him.

Screw your duties, whatever was waiting for you back at the village could do just that. Wait. It’s a bit scary how quickly you’re willing to put everything on the back burner if it meant you could spend just one sun drenched afternoon with him.

He looks good, in the shade of the palms. His eyes closed and cheeks flushed as the two of you ravage each other. Your hips knocking into one and other as you desperately rub against him through the layers of your clothing.

You’re completely wrapped up in him. You don't realize how much time you’ve spent just kissing him. You know that you’re needed for just about a billion different things but as you taste his spit you can't remember to care.

When you begin tugging at the cords of his tweng he sobers a bit, squirming. “What if someone sees, the gathering group might return”

“Fuck them” you mindlessly mutter, working at the blasted knots. You want his cock. You need to taste him on your tongue.

Neteyam huffs in amusement, reaching down to undo them for you. He always makes it look so easy with those long nimble fingers.

When he’s freed from his confines, your quick hands are all over him. Pawing at his bare inner thighs, groaning when your fingertips run along his dripping slit. You can already feel his manhood, rock hard, and poking out from the protective sheath of his body.

Neteyam is gorgeous and so, so sensitive. He’s throwing his head back, braids grinding against the bark as you play with him. Getting him all wet and messy between his strong thighs.

“Oh shit- shit, Y/N” he wheezes as you grasp his member in your hand, stroking him until he’s standing proud and fully erect.

Neteyam’s very much well endowed. He’s got girth yes, but Eywa he’s long. You wonder what it would be like to take him inside of you. You’re so sure that he would hit places that no other had before. You clench around nothing, can feel your knot internally swell, just dying to contract around him and milk him dry.

You can't, sadly. Not yet. Or you’d lay him down and sit right on his cock this very moment.

Instead you give him everything else. He’s moaning low in his throat as he squirms, and his hands disappear in your hair. Your eyes fight the urge to roll when his fingernails skritch at your scalp just right.

You're sinking then, down onto your knees. You want to taste him and your eager mouth envelopes his mushroom cock head at once. His earthy sweet taste explodes across your tastebuds and you don't know who moans louder, you or Neteyam.

You enjoy giving oral pleasure, you always had. It makes you feel powerful. You control Neteyam as you suckle on his manhood. When your hands come to play, inching down towards his hole he grunts and bucks hard. Your throat constricts around him with a gag.

Its so sexy. The way he chases his release makes you burn.

His virgin hole is tight, the muscles tense as you circle it with your fingers. The sounds Neteyam gurgles above you make it clear that he doesn't want you to stop. It’s a beyond snug fit as you push a single digit in.

The darker man practically sings. His abdominals clench and you’re pretty sure he’s about to blow-

When suddenly his hands fisting your locks go from holding you close, to pushing you away. You’re only haughtily confused for a moment.

The two of you freeze.

Sensitive ears twitching as the sound of crunching footsteps in the distance.

The orchard is large and full of fruit trees and bushes, making an escape without getting caught is easy enough. You slip behind an enormous berry bush, hidden easily by the thorned shrubbery. You’re vibrating with the thrill though, as you and Neteyam avoid being spotted. Just barely.

You don't think you would have minded if anyone would have caught you on your knees pleasuring your beautiful Omega.

Neteyam on the other hand doesn't look as happy as you. He actually seems kind of spooked. Crouching low and alert as the voices hum in the distance he re-ties his tweng with shaky hands. He doesn't relax until they pass and even then his shoulders stay tense.

“It’s okay, I never get caught, don't worry” You press a comforting hand to his side, and he sighs. Leaning into your touch despite himself.

You can tell the moment of passion is over and you hate it, although it probably is for the best.

“I have to go” you’re mournful of the fact” I’m sure they’re looking for me, back at the village”

His face falls, a little frown that’s cuter than it should be marring his features “Okay…”

You cup his cheek on your palm, making him look at you “We’ll get to be together soon, yes? I’m going out of my mind, I need make you come again”

Neteyam bites the inside of his lip hard “Soon” he agrees.

It takes everything for you to leave him in the orchard and not drag him straight to your bed.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

There are more moments like these as the weeks go on.

Stolen flashes of intimacy.

The two of you sneaking in kisses and groping touches wherever you can. It's always white hot, and over way too soon and somehow you feel even more desperate and strung out after them. Like you’re only getting a taste of what you so desperately want to savor.

You think you’re handling it pretty well. Hiding your split attention-

It all comes to a head at dinner.

The Inknimaya celebrations are only days away and the largest Mauri, the communal one right in the center of the village is packed to the brim with buzzing Na’vi.

You’re sat with your family and a group of high standing village leaders at the head of the meal. Tsireya on one side of you and your very pregnant mother on the other. Your Father sits, right in the middle, and Ao’nung to his side.

There is discussion of the rites and who will be present to officiate them and witness them.

You’re barely listening, so exhausted it’s hard to keep your eyes open. You could blame it on your busy day but really, it's because you and Neteyam had spent last night tangled in each other until the early hours of the morning eclipse.

You meet his gaze from across the crowded room.

Neteyam looks as tired as you feel. And still, he grins. A barely there thing just for you. When his hands move it’s subtle movements while no ones paying attention.

He signs, just the way you’d taught him. Only one word.

Tonight.

“Y/N- are you listening?” It’s your mothers voice, firm and cutting and breaking you from your own head.

“Of course” its an automatic lie as you pick at a piece of fish from your plate. You hadnt heard a thing she’d said.

She gives you THE look. A severe one that could make children cry. Good thing you aren't a child anymore.

You try not to feel too embarrassed by her obvious chiding as you rejoin the conversation.

“We were speaking about the First Hunt- there’s been many Nomura(giant man o war style jellyfish) just beyond the reef. Y/N, what is your stance on this matter?” An elder says, voice weary and weathered.

“This is not out of the norm for this time of year. All will be fine, we can set up a perimeter around the young hunters performing their rites” you nod, affirming him while not feeding into the hysteria. Elder Makiao was an anxious man after all.

“Are we sure that’s smart?” The cutting comment is made by the person you like the least.

Vaeyu is an Alpha and vetted warrior from a good family. He has high standing in the clan, and sits on your fathers council. Tall and broad, with dark ink splashed across his angular face and his meaty right arm almost blacked out with intricate tiny tribal markings.

He’s always got something to say and you sincerely wish that you could tell him to shut the fuck up.

Politics don't work that way, unfortunately. “Why would it not be smart? It is tradition, we will perform the rites as we always have, will we not?”

He nods, mulling it over, his lips pursed “Of course I would like to see them performed as they should be but we have…different members attempting this cycle. I would hate for any of our new Omiticayan friends to be put at even more of a disadvantage then they already are”

A surge of protective anger rages through you- years ago you might have lunged at him. But you’ve learned better, about controlling your own feelings. And about dealing with scum like Vaeyu.

You try to keep the appearance that you’re unaffected, for you know it will only fuel him if he can tell that he’s bothering you “I’m assuming you’re talking about Neteyam?” and you want to kill him for doing so.

“The eldest of the Forest children, yes” He goes on and really. The disrespect is dripping from his tone like venom. The fact that he hadn't even had the decency to refer to Neteyam by his name makes

“Neteyam is not a child” you speak slowly and control your tone. Not allowing your pheromones to spike with your annoyance “He’d already passed his rites back home, and is only repeating the process here out of respect”

Your father, ever observant, can see right through your attempt on staying civil and cuts through the tension with his deep timbre “She is right, he has shown nothing but competence since arriving. And from what I have seen, has excelled in training. I trust my daughter's abilities as a karyu. The boy will be given his chance as all others are”

Tonowari is cheif; he’d always given his people the freedom to question him. The openness to have meaningful conversation.

But everyone knew that directly challenging him is off limits.

“Ah. I see” Vaeyu deducts, using his sharp bladed knife to peel the skin of a fruit “Of course, Olo’eyktan. I trust your judgment. We will just have to hope he can keep up; you know the smell of blood draws those nasty creatures in”

The talks stray onto different topics and you try to get over the bitter taste left in your mouth.

You never want Vaeyu to speak of Neteyam again. If it was up to you the older warrior wouldn't even be able to look in his direction. Neteyam was too good for the likes of him.x

You’re more than happy when the man gets up and makes his leave, retreating for the night with his pregnant mate. Once upon a time the sight of his hand on her lower back and her cradling her stomach would hurt you. Now you’re just relieved as you watch them leave.

Your sister gives you a sympathetic pat on the hand.

The dinner on your plate is picked at, you can barely eat with the excitement of seeing Neteyam again bubbling. Tonight is going to be special. You’re going to give him the necklace you’ve been working on. He liked to act bashful, but you knew he loved your gifts and this one was the most important yet.

You offer Ao’nung the rest of your food, not wanting to waste, and try to make your exit.

“You have been very far away as of late”

Of course it can never be that easy.

Your mother is Tsahik for a reason. She is all knowing, with her keen eye and sharp senses, the tribe likes to say she has special Eywa given powers and you believe it. You just absolutely hate when she uses them on you.

Of course she’d notice you being off, even when you we’re trying so hard to keep it hidden.

“I am not sure I know what you mean” you feign innocence “I have been tired, and very busy, yes”

“No” she continues in that tone of hers. Her eyes that are more green than blue boring into you “That is not it. You have been distracted, and if you do not wish to tell me I will not pry, but I need you to recenter”

“Sanok-” you start with a grumble.

“During the festivities, there will be Metkayina from neighboring islands coming in. I want you to think about what we’ve spoken of, about you finding a mate this cycle”

Your ears pin to your head and you can feel your face get hot. No, she’d spoken and when you’d try to insist that you are not going to go through with an arranged marriage she’d dismissed you.

“I am not interested-”

“In performing your duty? You will be Olo’eykte, you will pass the title down to your children. You need heirs, Y/N. By the time I was your age I was already pregnant with Tsireya” Ronal softens, she can tell how uncomfortable you are but this conversation is vital “I want to give you the space to choose. There will be many eligible Na’vi, all looking to court”

You’re tense all over. By the ways she’s speaking you’d think you were an old woman and not one who had just celebrated her twenty first name day.

“Tell me that you’ll at least think about it- Tonowari, please. Help me here. This is important is it not” Your mother plays dirty and calls your father in for backup.

There is not much on Eywa’Eveng that you could deny your father. You are dedicated to him. Closer to him than anyone else.

When he speaks its gentle and encouraging “We just want you to be happy. You are at the age where you should be starting your own family, I want to meet my grandchildren”

You feel trapped, impossibly so.

Mating had been the one thing that you’d refused to surrender to your chosen destiny. Being the next Olo’ekyte could have everything else but you so deeply wanted to find someone who loved you.

You want to tell them that you think you’ve already found a mate. You’re sure your mom wouldn't like it, wouldn't think Neteyam is suitable but your father would support you. You just know it.

It’s not the time.

Instead you just not tersly “I will consider it. Am I free to go?”

“My daughter…” Tonowari frowns, wanting to reach, but keeping his hands at his side anyway.

“Please. I am tired”

Your father just nods. You dont stay around to hear the worried words your family shares.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The moons are high in the dark, star speckled night sky as you lounge in soft grass. You’d never spent much time here, in the little island forest, before Neteyam and yet now it’s become your oasis.

The hidden spot where you could come and release everything. Your fear and doubts are harbored by the trees. They’re good secret keepers.

“You’re distracted tonight” Neteyam remarks as he meets you in the meadow. It always takes him a little longer to get there, he has to wait for his family to fall asleep before he takes his leave.

“Sorry”

You try to put on a brave face, but when he lies down next to you, both of you on your sides facing on another, and places a large, callused hand on your hip you melt.

He doesn't have to say much to make you soft for him, he’s spent months tenderizing your heart.

“Talk to me” Neteyam urges softly as his thumbs rub patterns into your hip bone. “What happened?”

You close your eyes for a moment, overwhelmed by the comfort. “I’m just tired, Tey. I feel like- I can never really satisfy anyone, you know? And I try really hard to.”

He hums in understanding “I do know what that is like. Is this about your parents?”

Your silence is the only answer he needs. You, after all, are rarely ever silent.

“Back home I was going to be Olo’eyktan and while I accepted it, I was always kind of dreading it. Counting down the days until any semblance of my life being my own was over” you don't know it, but he’d never told anyone this. You listen raptly “The responsibility of making sure everyones taken care of, its alot”

You smile, because yeah. Alot is an understatement.

“I’m just letting you know that I know how it feels. Truly. And whenever you need to; we can talk about it, one eldest sibling to another” Neteyam’s kind words go straight to your head. They make you feel dizzy, so cared for and adored.

He’s what you’ve always wanted. All of your fantasies and desires rolled into one. You’re convinced that Eywa had brought him to you. Carried him to you by ikran back on the strong east wind.

You want to mate with him. More than anything, you want to bond him. Would it scare him off if you told him so? You don't want to lose what hasn't even had it’s chance to fully develop.

“I made you something” Your words seem to shock him, if only for a minute, and he groans and rolls his eyes.

“Another gift? Really, Y/N?”

“Don't pretend you don't love them” you tease as you reach for the small satchel you’d brought with you. You grab at its contents and hold it tight in your hand. You’re nervous, terribly so, as you present the jewelry to Neteyam.

This isn't like the spear, or the blanket or the fruit. For Metkayina, this is serious business.

“Oh” he says as you hand over the necklace that you’d spend countless hours working on. “It’s is gorgeous, wow”

He takes it from you and marvles at the care you’d put into it. The necklace is made of leather, and adorned with pieces of carefully polished dark blue seashells. In the center dangles a single pearl, black as night and rare. You’d shucked an endless amount of clams to find one that felt right.

“Do you accept it?” you question as his eyes trace the piece of jewelry.

“Well, I have not rejected any of your gifts yet” Neteyam jokes dryly “I’m not about to start now.”

He doesn't know then. That if he accepts it then he will be accepting your hand. That he will be agreeing to be your mate. In Metkayina tradition, he’d give you a necklace back, one that would sit right where his bite would on your delicate neck.

He requests that you help him put it on but you decline.

This isn't something to adorn tonight, if he still wanted to wear it in the cold light of day you’d be happy to help him fasten it. Once he puts it on, he can never take it off. You’re sure he isn't aware of the fact and you wont trick him- but also don't have the energy to tell him in that very moment.

“Well I can't wear it because your being weird” Neteyam starts, brows knitted “But I still wanna thank you for it”

“Thank me, huh?” you smile as you reach to pet at his braids. Sweet, sweet man.

“Mhmm” Is all Neteyam says as his hand travels from its place on your hip, down, To play with the hem of your pink skirt. It's very clear what he wants, so you roll over onto your back and spread your legs, making it easier for him to get it.

He works you out of your coverings with ease.

Your needy pussy is sticky- strings of wetness stretch between it and your tweng as Neteyam peels it off. He groans at the heady sight. His nostrils flare and his mouth waters.

“You talk so much about how good I taste” Neteyam grumbles into your skin as he presses deep kisses into the skin of your belly, sinking ever lower. Over your naval. He traces the pretty swirling ink of your tattoos, the ones that cradle your hips and lead him right where he wants most.

He mouths at that tender crease between thigh and labia “But your cunt is Eywa sent, I swear. So sweet”

You're panting, chest concaving intensely as his face disappears between your thick thighs. You feel no shame at him staring at where you’re drenched and throbbing for him. If anything you spread wider, showing him the pretty blushing insides of your light blue gash.

Neteyam dives in, nose first. His snout rubbing at your lips, inhaling your essence eagerly. You can't help but smile, happy that he loves the way you smell. That it’s reciprocated. Two of you so compatible.

When his wide tongue laps over your puffy slit, catching on your swollen nub you cry out. Your hands fly to the back of Neteyam’s head, holding onto the braids for support. Tugging ever so slightly, just on the right side of painful. You hump at his face, shoving him closer.

Neteyam’s a messy pussy eater, he dedicates his whole being to getting you off. He uses his entire face; his mouth but also his nose and his chin and cheeks. Soon enough hes completely messy, covered in your slick as he sloppily feasts on you.

“Oh, Great Mother!” you wail when he sits up a bit, hooking your thighs over his broad shoulders, before digging back in. He’s everywhere, there's not one part of your sensitive core that he’s not licked against. “Neteyam!”

When you come for the first time, it's with a violent arch of your back and a squeal. The pleasure makes you seize and shake as it washes over you in a tidal wave. Neteyam rides it out, his mouth following your arching pussy- drawing your orgasm out beautifully.

As you start to come back down, his chin is pillowed on your inner thigh and he's looking up at you with pleased amber eyes. So shy and proud of himself for being able to get you off. His face is sticky and gleaming with your cum. You never want to forget this image of him, you want to engrave this memory somewhere deep and timeless. You think that you will need to visit the Spirit Tree soon.

“Felt good?” he verifies and you grin, nodding, still coming down.

“So good, I love it when you tongue fuck me” you sigh, still spread out for him. Your pussy aches- from over sensitivity. From the need to be touched again.

Neteyam just blushes a little at your vulgar words, sometimes you forget that he’s still very new to all of this. Each time you guys are intimate, he explores a bit more of his sexuality.

He holds your gaze as his fingers begin to toy with your folds. There’s something so erotic about it all, the way that the two of you never break eye contact. Communicating silently as Neteyam rubs at your hard clit. Sharp jolts of pleasure make your hips twitch. But still, you try to be still. Encouraging his tentative touches. When his digit swirls around your hole for a moment before sinking deep your eyes roll until they close and your head presses back into the ground.

You’re meant to be filled, your body designed to squeeze around whatever enters it and not let go. It doesnt care if its a cock or fingers or tongue, your pussy is greedy.

Neteyam bites his bottom lip bloody as he watches your core hungrily eat his fingers. First one, and then two, and then before long he's pumping all there in and out of your wet snatch. A part of him wants to tuck his thumb against his palm and shove his entire fist inside-

He’s rock hard in his tweng, undulating against the ground as he watches your hips chase his hand.

“Knot my fingers” he begs over your pathetic sobs “Please, I wanna feel it.”

It’s too much.

His eager words paired with the constant perfect rhythm in which he’s pumping his digits in and out of you. It’s not hard to grant his request. You cry out as you come, again. This time, you don't stop your body from doing what it instinctually needs to. You reach down between your legs to grab his wrist, firmly pressing his hand to your pulsating pussy. If he wants to feel, you’ll let him. Your knot swells inside of you, impossibly tight, as it locks around Neteyams long fingers.

His wide eyes stare up at you in unfiltered awe as he feels you from the inside. It’s wondrous, like nothing he’s ever experienced. He feels very special in that moment, that he gets to share this with you. Very special and very fucking horny.

“Holy shit” is his clumsy, blunt response to it all. You giggle fondly and shake your head.

“Do you like it?” You inquire as you rhythmically pulse.

He groans and presses his head, his entire face into the safe plush flesh of your thigh “I do” he admits “I want to feel it around my dick so bad”

That starts a whole new round of neediness and the two of you go at it like animals under the bright moonlight, surrounded by fluorescent flora and fauna.

You’d sworn that you’d be smarter- wouldn't stay out as late so that you could go through the upcoming day a little less exhausted but by the time the two of you are done, the sky is painted pinks and purples and the morning eclipse is dawning.

You’re lying with your head pressed to his chest and your leg thrown across his both of his. You know you should get up but you don't want to make the long trek back to the village. You whine about the decided meeting spot as the two of you sit up, knowing that you need to get ready to return.

“Why do we have to go sneaking around in the bush? I do have my own Mauri, you know” you’d sassed him, as you look for your top in the grass.

“And what if someone catches me coming in and out of your place? Yeah, no. I don’t think that is a good idea”Neteyam had protested, flustered at even the thoughts . It would be so obvious.

A frown tugs at your lips at his words. “Would that be so bad?”

There's a pregnant pause before he speaks again “I mean…I thought we had agreed to keep this private. If people start seeing me sneaking in and out of your home at all odd hours it’s not going to be hard for them to put together what’s going on”

Your heart drops a bit at that, and you feel more naked than you had moments before. “What are you…ashamed of what we’re doing?”

“I’m not ashamed…I just don't want that label, Y/N” Neteyam sighs like you’re being unreasonable and it’s like ice water in your veins. “I don't want people to look at me differently because of this”

It's hard to speak around the lump in your throat “Because of what? Me courting you? Why would that cause anyone to feel differently about you?”

“It's just, it’s different for you. There are different expectations in place. You’ve done this before.-”

“As you love to remind me” the laugh that escapes you is humorless as you locate your top and slip it back on. You already feel vulnerable, there's no need to psychically be so too. “ I’ve never once held it against you or made you feel bad about being a virgin, but you constantly throw the fact that I've been with other people in my face.”

“That’s not it-” Neteyam insists as you stand, he tries to reach for you but you side step in and grab your tweng instead. He looks so lost, like he’s trying to untie the knots in his head. You know that Neteyam has a hard time transmuting his thoughts into words and usually you’re patient with him but right now? Right now you’re too hurt to wait for him to find the words to insult you with. “I dont- I dont care if you’ve been with a ton of other people, It doesn't matter to me. That’s not why I feel uncomfortable with the village knowing”

“The mere fact that you’re so eager to call it a ton tells me that it does” you're wrapping the ties of your covering around your tail and ignoring your shaking hands as emotion bubbles up violently “I’ve only ever been intimate with three people, including yourself. Did you know that, Neteyam? I’m not the huge whore that you think me to be”

Neteyam looks down at the ground shamefully. He hasn't even reached for his own tweng yet. It’s like he’s stuck, his head going a mile a minute. Too fast for his body to catch up with.

“When I told you I wanted to court you I wasn't lying. I’m not sure what that means to you, or the people back in the forest, but here it means that I see you as a potential mate. I didn't realize that you’re too embarrassed of me to see me as the same” you’re going to start crying, you can feel it.

This moment had already happened to you, years before. You’d already been rejected by someone you thought wanted you- you never thought you’d allow yourself to happen again.

Eywa, how fucking stupid can you be?

The familiar feeling is devastating. You feel soiled and used.

“If you can just be reasonable- If we can-can talk. I don't know how to make you understand that this isn't all about you” Neteyam is stuttering, finally reaching for his own tweng but you’re checked out.

How does one be reasonable when their heart is breaking?

“It’s fine. There’s nothing to talk about. I’m sorry that I misread this whole thing. My mistake.”

You’re off before he can get another word in, storming through the foliage as fast as your feet can take you. The tears that had been building only fall once you’re out of eye sight.

You can hear him calling for you, pleading for you to come back.

You leave him there, half naked in the woods.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The Iknimaya ceremony comes all too fast.

The days since you and Neteyam’s fight in the forest had all been a blur. You were too busy to focus on your fractured feelings. No one had even truly known about the two of you, so it’s as if life moves on as though it had never even happened.

That might be what’s most painful about it all.

You have duties to fulfill, and you’d like to pretend like they keep you from focusing in on that pain. You help where you’re needed- and even where you’re not. It’s left you drained and bone tired, but distracted enough to maintain.

As you and your sister get ready for the long day, she notices how sluggish you are. Dragging yourself through the motions.

“When was the last time you slept?” Tsireya asks as she watches you dress.

“I’ve been busy as of late, Reya” You take care as you ready yourself. Donning traditional Metkayinan ceremonial drab- your blood-orange tweng is intricate and the shell headpiece you wear connects with your barely there top. You brush your long midnight hair until it’s glossy and bouncing, the ends of it reaching the base of your tail as it falls down your back in waves.

You’d always had a healthy dose of vanity.

You know that you are attractive, pretty. Shockingly so, as you’d been told. Blessed with thick eyelashes and feminine features. Your whole life,many have spoken about how favored an Omega, to which you’d never taken offense. You’d inherited your mothers looks, as had Tsireya. Small. Compact. Unexpectedly vicious.

You use your looks as a weapon, just as everything else, your little sister is well aware of the fact. She knows that you’re overcompensating with appearing attractive for the fact that something has happened.

“I’m worried about you. You can try to fool everyone else, but you’re not fooling me, sister. I know that somethings wrong” Tsireya is sweet, but firm. She’d always had that air around her.

Caring yet severe. She was all Alpha no matter what people might think about her docile temperament.

“It’s not like speaking about it would change anything” you mutter, if anything, it would bring the pain front and center.

“Don’t be a coward, Ma Y/N. You know better than anyone that the only way over something is through it” Tsireya’s blunt, but without an ounce of malice.

She knows how to handle you and knows that tough love is oftentimes better than coddling like comfort when it comes to you.

It works.

“Neteyam rejected my courtship”

“You lie” she accuses in a gasp, and you just glare at her. “But- he’s so interested in you”

“Obviously not” it’s flippant. You don’t even want to meet her eyes. You’d been under that impression too.

“Something is being lost in translation here, sister. Neteyam likes you. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. I can feel it everytime the two of you are around each other” your sister insists and it’s like salt in the wound.

“Sometimes things aren’t what they seem. It’s not as though this is the first time I’ve been wrong about someone’s intentions for me” the words are hard to admit and taste like acid in your mouth.

“Neteyam couldn’t be any more different than Vaeyu. The two might as well be night and day- this situation can’t be the same” Tsireya insists and you bite your tongue.

“No they’re not the same. But their feelings, or lack there of, are”

Vaeyu had never been particularly kind to you but there had been a time when you naively believed that he truly cared about you.

Before your Iknimaya, which should’ve been the first warning sign, the older warrior had courted you.

He, like Neteyam, had wanted to keep it a secret.

Vaeyu took your virginity before telling you that as an Alpha himself, he would never mate with another Alpha.

You were too much for him. Not at all a suitable mate. He’d be embarrassed to be with you…

The scene that had played itself out just nights before in the forest with Neteyam had been all too familiar.

“Just once” you start, voice shaky as you focus on holding back all the hurt you've felt “I’d like to be wanted back. Truly. By someone who sees me as I see them”

“Oh, Y/N” Tsireya breathes as she grabs your hands and holds them tightly.

You don’t have the time to weep, but it feels nice, standing in your Mauri with your sister for that fleeting moment.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The Metkayinan Iknimaya is a difficult and dangerous task to achieve.

The Akula hunt is fierce. An entire team of warriors working to bring down the wild beast. Many had died in their efforts. The massive sharks are armored with very few weak spots. They’re extremely difficult to kill.

Today would be no different. There would assuredly be some injuries- you give a brief prayer to the great mother for no casualties.

The to-be warriors line up on the shore and your mother, Tsahik Ronal, passes each. Chanting over them, and drawing a line across their face- from temple, over the bridge of their noses- to other temple, with white paint.

May the Great Mother take you into her arms. The Sea is your home before your birth, and if you should die, you will return to it in the afterlife.

You try to keep from staring at Neteyam, who’s tall and fierce and armed with the spear you’d given him.

The two of you only meet eyes briefly as he mounts his Tsurak. Right before he sets out. There’s so much unsaid and there’s no time to say it.

Instead you give him a firm nod.

You’d trained him. Had seen him in action. He could do this. You have full faith in him.

He only nods back.

The hunt makes you jittery, lights your blood on fire. You love this. Watching hunters draw first blood and make a clean kill. A primal part of you is dying to get in there. To join the fight.

It all happens in a rush- one minute the warriors are out on Tsurak back, headed for the deep. It’s harder to see where what’s going on as you stand with the crowd on the beach but you know from experience the energy filled pursuit that is going on right under the surface.

This year- it’s quick.

So much quicker than the years prior.

The crowd murmurs, almost confused, as the hunters return to the beach in record time.

They are no longer children.

Behind them, they haul the large carcass of a fully grown male Akula. Ropes secured around the body, netting and the waves helping transport with the sheer bulk of the creature. Sticking out of his left eye, perfectly launched, is the spear that you had crafted for Neteyam.

“Our hunters have returned, as fully blooded men and women of the Metkayina!”

Your father booms in pride, his warm cries whooping along the people as they join in. They’d made it back, all of them, with minimal damage. In record time. With one of the biggest catches you’d ever seen.

There’s hugs and tears. Everyone seems to be embracing one another. The pride is felt village wide and it’s a communal high.

“We will feast tonight!”Varyu cheers, and hoots follow “Tell me, who made the fatal blow? It is as clean a kill as I’ve ever seen”

You already know. You’d known since you’d seen the carvings on the wood- but the newly fledged Hunters push Neteyam forward and confirm it.

Vaeyu’s eyes almost pop out of their sockets. It’s comical to say the least.

Neteyam is humble, as he always is. It was a team effort, he claims.

His family beams at him. Jake whooping and Neytiri’s misty eyed. Lo’ak is grinning from ear to ear and Kiri and Tuk clap and cheer for their brother.You remember Lo’ak telling you about how his older brother had been the youngest in their village to ever make a clean kill. You’d been impressed then.

Right now? Right now you are stunned. So proud that you can barely speak. All of those training sessions where Neteyam had doubted his ability to adapt had paid off.

He’s a warrior, as he’s meant to be. Neteyam has reclaimed his place in the world.

Your father goes to Neteyam and places his hands on his shoulders. Beaming. “You have done well and proved yourself amongst are people. I am proud to call you Metkayina”

You want to cry. You’ve never felt such emotion. You know how much this means to Neteyam and all you want to do is go over to him and embrace him.

“As the hunter who solidified the kill, you have first choice during Fertility Season. Tell me, son. Is there anyone who you want to lay claim to?” Your father speaks of the tradition. If the kill can be traced back to a single warrior- they earn the honor of having their pick of mates.

It’s ancient, dated, and most decline. You’re expecting Neteyam to do the same.

Instead, he focuses on you.

It doesn’t feel real. This must be a dream. The docile introverted Omega you’d gotten to know would never lay a claim on you, so boldly. In public. To your father much less.

And yet, he does.

“Ma Y/N” Neteyam calls to you clear and true. He’s chosen these words carefully; they don’t stick to the roof of his mouth “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.

A clear symbol of his acceptance of your courtship.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

I’m so sorry to end it there on that cliffhanger but guyssssss. We all know she says yes. She’s down so bad for him lmfao

To my omegaverse besties @tru-blubelle @imperihoe @tiredmamaissy and Cinetrix thanks for all of the inspiration and support!

Omega Neteyam is my fucking religion now. I swear. I’m never getting over how perfect he is. Ughhhh. Sweetest bby boi who deserves the actual world. I love writing the juxtaposition of someone who is so incredibly physically attractive- and yet so socially awkward. He really doesn’t know how gorgeous he is. People expect him to be more suave because of his chiseled features and he’s really just an introverted guy who hates being the center of attention.

Okay so lots to talk about here! I introduced some OC’s! I feel like whenever I get to read about a Na’vi OC I’m like instantly in deep because it’s such an interesting culture and they’re such an interesting people!

I adore Akemi. He’s just an all around good guy who stepped up to the plate and took Roxto in when he had no one. Akemi’s husband is also a fun colorful character and I can’t wait to introduce him to you guys in the next chapter!

Vaeyu fucking sucks lmfao I wanted to write a smarmy Na’vi for the realism of it all. He’s everything bad about Alphas. He totally groomed the reader, if that wasn’t clear enough in the story. Tonowari would have him banished if he knew about it because he’s a protective dad and also a good man who hates creeps.

If you need a visual guide to how I picture Na’vi Male Omega’s genitalia you can find that here!

And if you have any questions about my A/B/O Head Cannons or the way that I’m structuring secondary gender in this story, please don’t hesitate to ask.

Neteyam goes into heat next chapter(I had to split this one into two because it was at 18K words long) so get ready for some wild ass smut😂

Please remember that interaction is key when it comes to fanfiction! I'd love to talk to you guys! Let’s escape to Pandora together!

My Taglist for this story is currently OPEN, but full disclosure that if I take the time to give you a tag, I am going to be expecting some sort of feedback.

@thehoneymushroomhealer @persy-the-nugget @tallulah477 @sakurayuki8655-blog @cumikering @adaiasafira @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @akkibear @a-blog-name-2023 @weasleytwinwheezes @siimiasoi @blueslxt-primary @haji-me-mashite @mightyneteyam @kiri-tuk

#neteyam smut #aged up neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam x reader smut #omega neteyam #omega neteyam x female alpha reader #minors do not interact

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