#not even letting her say goodbye to the man who protected her and bonded with her for the past YEAR?

[rosasappho]

above all, i really do like abby i feel bad for her but i DO hate her dad<3

[joanquill]

Sherlock with Moriarty's Younger Sister II

What it's like being the younger sister of the Moriartys and meeting Sherlock Holmes. Continuation of "Sherlock with Moriarty's Younger Sister".

A/N: Sorry this took so long :') Tag/s: Fem!Reader, Familial Relationship, and maybe romance? maybe

During your afternoon stroll with Moneypenny, Sherlock was quick to catch you with Watson by his side.

Moneypenny, however, was quick to shut the whole operation, excusing you both by saying you are needed back home.

Sherlock attempted to walk you home, but Watson quickly pulled him back, apologizing for Sherlock's assertive behavior and bid you goodbye.

While walking back home, you couldn't help but laugh while Moneypenny was sighing, advising you not to meet with the great detective so often.

Being alone with a man was dangerous enough, especially with your position as a noblewoman with high society's eyes on you.

You reassured her, saying it will not hinder William's plans and you can take care of yourself and your image.

Unfortunately, it seems this reached the ears of your brothers before you even stepped inside the manor.

You sighed as you braced yourself for your brothers' lectures.

Even police interrogations don't feel as heavy or last as long as this.

Once you confirmed that Sherlock talked to you, Louis made you bathe, saying it was to decontaminate you.

If air fresheners were invented, Louis definitely sprayed your whole body with it, removing every trace of Sherlock on you.

They made sure that you didn't have any cuts or injuries, even though you were just taking a walk with Moneypenny.

You just said he tried talking to you since you were a Moriarty but assured them that you didn't do or say anything suspicious.

Luckily, Moneypenny helped you and took your side.

After that, your brothers let it go but still told you to avoid the man.

Unfortunately, your brothers took it upon themselves to be your bodyguard.

Whether you're walking in the gardens, reading in the library, or even just drinking tea in your room, at least one of your brothers is by your side.

Even the letters or gifts you receive get checked by them, mostly by Louis.

Marriage proposals get burned, shredded, ripped, or straight to the trash. Most of them never even got into your hands, let alone to your knowledge.

Whenever you make a public appearance, Albert is always there and dances with you, leaving no room for other men to ask you to the dance floor.

Some of the noble ladies even coo at how protective Albert was of you, saying how sweet of an older brother he was.

You can only give them an empty smile and stop your tongue from lashing out.

You even tried to deliver lunch to William to get on his good side and hopefully light up the security around you, but it just got the opposite effect.

Now, even his students send you letters and flowers in the mail.

You can only apologize in your head as you watch William prepare their examinations with dark fire surrounding him.

Louis is the one who stays by your side the most, assigning you to the same chores he has.

Whenever he needs to buy something from the market, either Sebastian or Fred goes with you two.

Whenever you feel it's too much, you usually spend time with Fred in the gardens, go for a drink with Sebastian, or have tea with Bonde, Moneypenny, and Master Jack.

They have tried to help you, defending your case, but your brothers are relentless.

Seeing as there is little to no hope of changing their minds, you put on your disguise and decide to run away.

You DID leave a note, though.

But you can only smile when you see Sherlock's shocked expression when you end up on the doorstep of 221B Baker Street.

As much as you hate people using power and money for selfish gains, you can only do so much with your brothers watching your every movement.

You paid Miss Hudson in full for renting a room for three days, which she happily accepted and welcomed you with open arms.

When you got inside, you didn't expect to be staying in the room right next to Sherlock and Dr. Watson's, but it's better than staying in the manor for now.

You jumped onto the bed and sighed, physically and emotionally tired from the day.

Before you could even unpack, you heard someone knocking on the window.

There, you saw a frantic Fred outside, trying to get your attention.

You opened the window and listened to him, but you were determined to stay there until your brothers let you have your freedom--despite how childish it is to run away at your age.

Seeing you were resolved to stay, Fred left to let your brothers know you were safe.

Seeing as you were their new neighbor, Dr. Watson tried to greet you as politely as possible while Sherlock glared at you from behind, earning a smack on the head from Miss Hudson.

You greeted them back with a courteous smile, reassuring them that you would only be staying for a short time.

You did your best not to bump into the two men, keeping to yourself in your room and only leaving to cook, eat, and go to the market.

Sherlock has tried to visit and talk to you, seeing as this is a rare chance to meet the elusive sister of the Moriartys.

But Miss Hudson made sure no one would bother her new tenant while Dr. Watson made sure his book's titular character would not cause a scandal.

Seeing as how your presence was causing trouble (because of Sherlock), you decided to invite them for tea.

As usual, you kept your answers short and precise, not giving Sherlock the answers he wanted while also asking questions yourself.

"For a noble lady, you sure have little to no suitors, huh?"

"Why? Would you like to be one?"

"I have no interest in women,"

"I believe Miss Irene Adler stayed at your place?"

"...And where did you hear that?"

"Gossip seems to travel faster than papers,"

Before you could finish your cup, Miss Hudon walked inside with Paterson behind her.

Your brothers apparently filed a missing person report.

Dr. Watson swore he saw the air around you grow heavy and dark for a split second.

Seeing as they have now gotten the police involved, you said your farewells and went home with Paterson.

Knowing your brothers, they would have sent the MI6 next...

[buckysunshine]

lost in the fire – house of the dragon

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader, Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (tho no threesome)

Warnings: Smut (18+) ! A/B/O dynamics (just the heat aspect there’s no official alphas or omegas), Unprotected sex, Bareback riding, Public Sex, A little dub-con (the heat making her decisions for her), Incest (Uncle and niece, Step-dad and step-daughter). You have been warned!

Even though this is pure smut I can’t help myself and wrote in romance. AKA I’m a sucker for intimacy and pining. 

Synopsis: The Targaryens is a special kind of house. The reason for their advancement stems from a family secret. Unfortunately for you, the mystery comes to light in the most wretched circumstance – while in captivity. 

(Basically reader goes into heat while in imprisonment by the Greens. Reader is a Strong bastard, but won the genetic lottery of inheriting silver hair. Daemon is not the reader’s biological dad! But Aemond is her uncle.)

Word Count: 4.4K

masterlist

Your visits to King's Landing were rare. The few times you went, you were always accompanied by your brothers or Daemon. As the only daughter, your mother, Rhaenyra, is awfully protective of you. Though, you understand your mother's protectiveness. The Greens weren't exactly kind to your family the time you lived there, especially now that you're just unofficial visitors to the palace the moment your house left for Dragonstone.

But this time, you went alone, and the one time you did by the Gods would have it – you were captured and taken as prisoner. 

It was your fault, really. It has been a while since you've met with your grandsire. You shared a special bond with the man. To everyone else, he was king, but to you, he was just your old man who enjoyed telling his stories for hours at a time. Until he got too weak to speak. The last time you saw him, he wasn't well, and it broke your heart to leave so soon. You wished to say your goodbyes before it was too late.

So you left on dragonback unescorted, only intending for a short visit. You had an inclination it was soon, but not this soon.

Now you're trapped and alone in King's Landing. A tool for the Hightowers to bargain with your mother. The only thing keeping you sane is the secret trips Daemon managed to sneak in every fortnight. 

"Princess."

Daemon ascends in his black cloak. He sheds it to greet you with a soft smile as always, and as always, you embrace him. You savored his presence. He had to travel in secret, leaving Caraxes behind, making the travel time painstakingly longer. Your rendezvous with him are the only time you experience affection in isolation. Something you regret taking advantage of. 

Daemon knew the secret passages hidden in the Red Keep, and the only place he could safely meet with you was a hidden chamber deep within the kingdom's walls at night. 

"Please tell me you're here to take me away now."

He pulls back from your embrace to cup your face in his hands. You frown at the familiar apologetic look he gives you.

"I'm sorry, princess. As per your mother's orders, it is not yet time."

Dismay spikes in your chest at the thought of being trapped here for other days at a time. Rhaenyra has kept you here for her plan to take back the throne. You know it hurt your mother more to leave you here, but with the persuasion from her council, her plans now involve you and your stay in King's Landing. They somehow turned your imprisonment into an unexpected advantage.

When news broke of your capture, war nearly broke out. It took great effort from the council, your brothers, and even Queen Alicent ensuring your safety to hold your mother and Daemon back from burning King's Landing to the ground. You trust your mother; deep down, you know she would never let harm come to you. And as her kin, you would do anything to support your mother's claim to the Iron Throne, even if it meant playing the role of the lonely prisoner.

"I've brought letters from your brothers." Daemon fished them from his satchel, offering them to you as a small comfort.

You fight back tears as you read the letters. Not a day passed when you didn't miss your brothers. Worry crept into your heart about their safety, especially now with the brink of war. You cherish every written word, for they always end up burned and destroyed to eliminate any trace of evidence. 

You flip through the papers until you reach a picture.

Daemon peers over your shoulder, chuckling at the appearance of the illustration. "Little Joffrey wanted to send you something as well. His writing still needs improvement, but he did his best with a handmade portrait just for his sister."

You clutch Joffrey's portrait of Tessaryon, your dragon. Ever since you've been captured, they have kept Tessaryon chained in the Dragon Pit, never to be seen again. 

The hole in your chest grows deeper each day, and it finally rips through you in salty tears.

Daemon comforts you, rubbing circles on your back. "Shh... I know, princess. If it were up to me, you would be long gone here and back home already. Even burn this place while I'm at it."

Amid your tears, you laugh at his constrained threat, and the sincerity gives you comfort. Daemon holds you a little while longer. Despite your want to stay like this until his leave, the need to speak about the growing concern that's been troubling your mind breaks your resolve.

Speaking of, you peel yourself away from your step-father, gathering the courage to speak on it.

Immediately, he senses your apprehension. "What is it?"

You clench and unclench your fists before finally muttering, "There's something wrong with me. Something's not right."

Daemon advances toward you, and instinctively you take a step back. His face dims at your retrieve. "Are you hurt? Do you need the maesters?"

"No, no." You shake your head, wincing at the thought. "All I need is my mother. I need to go back." 

Daemon sighs, uncertainty dreading down on him. "I can't help you if I don't know the problem, princess."

Chewing on your lip, you contemplate the best way to say it without painting yourself in the worst picture possible.

"Something is burning inside me." You begin to speak despite your voice coming out shaky. You rest your palm on your stomach to steady yourself. "Mother told me about it. If the fire inside me grows brighter than I could take, then I am to run to her. It's happening, Daemon. I feel it inside me, and I don't know how long I could hide it."

Your voice breaks at the last sentence. Head hung low, you dare peek at your step-father's expression. You fear it would hold fear, disgust, or even pity, but it only kept concentration and calm. If it was a mask, you could not tell.

He was quiet for a while, fingers toying with Dark Sister. Finally, he breaks his silence with a question. "What do you feel?"

"Hot." was your immediate response. Even now, you feel your temperature burning.

"And what more?" He adjusts his weight, hips shifting. 

Now you're the one who doesn't speak. If Daemon knew the extent of your symptoms, he would surely leave immediately.

"Tell me."

His tone was urgent but careful. The look he fixes on you is something you don't recognize anymore.

You swallow down your fear. "I feel hungry… for something I do not know."

"This hunger, show me where you feel it."

Unsure of what exactly he meant, you touch your heart. "Here." Then came next was your neck, "sometimes I feel it here," and lastly, your touch travels south to your core, "but I feel it most here."

Your hand only hovers over your clothed core, but even that is enough to produce slick. The thing you've been trying so hard to avoid for days now. 

"You're in heat." 

Daemon speaks decisively, taking slow, cautious steps toward you. "Chosen women in our family have them. It's nothing to be afraid of. Those who experience them birth the best of us. From them came our family's greatest kings, the most fearsome warriors. Your heat is a blessing."

With every word he speaks, your mind spins with the revelation.

He settles right in front of you, a distance smaller than usual. He reaches for your hand, pressing a kiss on your knuckles. "It's been decades since the last one. We thought they died out, yet here you are."

Confused about your purpose, you ask, "Then what do I do?"

"Do whatever you want." He drops your hand. "Whatever you think would help."

Daemon assumed you would use your fingers to alleviate the burning in your core. He'd watch and make sure you were doing it right. 

But what he did not anticipate is you taking his face in your hands.

Heeding his advice, you did the one thing you'd been craving for weeks. You touch his face. The feel of Daemon's skin gave you a sense of relief. The fire burning inside made you hungry for touch, and the skinship immediately made you feel better. 

Your eyes flutter close at the contact, ease setting in your bones at the feel of him.

Daemon's breath hitched at his throat, but he did not pull away. "That helps?"

You faintly nod. The relief was nice, but it didn't last long, and soon you were craving something more. 

Taking notice, he presses his temple against yours. A loving gesture he thought to be innocent. It was his little way of showing his affection.

You open your eyes and come face to face with Daemon's, and you’re overcome by the itch to touch more. Delicately, your thumb strokes his cheek, tracing his eyelid, which closes at your touch, the slope of his nose, and his bottom lip; you find yourself lingering at his lips.

"Princess…"

"Do whatever you want. Whatever you think would help."

And you did, so you leaned in to kiss him. Stunned, he tugs away, but you wrap your arms around his neck, blocking his escape. You slip your tongue inside, yearning to taste him, to feel him.

Daemon presses back until your back hits a wall, but you cling to him, kiss unbreaking and never heaving. His arm slams leaning on the wall, and the other finds its way to your waist. Any fight he had before dissolves at your determination, your heat affecting him as well. 

He bites your lip, from tasting your mouth to your neck. He licks a stripe underneath the slope of your ear. "Feel it here too?"

You nod feverish, back arching to give him more access. Impatiently, you grip Daemon's hair, take his hand, and lead it where you need it most.

Taking the hint, he ruffles your dress up, and soon his fingers slip inside your undergarments. You're a mewling mess now, moans escaping your lips willfully. He circles your soaked bud considerately, causing another strip of slick to wet your thighs before finally sinking inside you.

You hold on to his shoulders, legs shaky. He plunges his fingers in and out your cunt, and embarrassing sounds of wet flesh fill the empty chamber. You moan with every prod. 

With your release nearing close, you decided to reach for the stars – and you grope his cock. 

A decision that proved to be a mistake. 

With your touch, Daemon withdraws his fingers inside you and pulls away.

You cry out at the ruined climax. You were so close, and now you're back to zero.

Both breathing heavily, Daemon's actions still. His hands remain frozen. Confused, you lean in to kiss him again, but he only pulls away. You don't understand. He remains hard and, until now, willing to bed you, but now he can't even look at you.

Instead, he grabs your wrist, and you wince at the tight grip. He puts them at your eye level. "Use your fingers to help you with your heat. Like what I did."

He led them to your mound, urging you to try yourself. Hesitantly, you touch yourself, trying your best to mimic how he did it. It helped, but it was nothing to how Daemon's fingers worked for you. 

Frustrated, you whine, pulling out. "It's not enough. I need you, Daemon."

You reach to touch him again, but he backs away, putting distance between you. Your heart breaks at the space. Did you do something wrong? He turns his back on you in an attempt to collect himself.

"Daemon?" you called out, concerned.

He let out a mountain of curses in high valyrian before facing you again. He flips his black cloak back on his head. 

"Come." He holds his hand out, and you take it immediately. He starts walking, and shortly, he's picking up the pace, and you try your best to keep up.

"Where are we going?"

He doesn't answer. Soon you're somewhere away, but it wasn't somewhere new. Dread filled you at the sight of the familiar door.

"No. I'm not going back, not right now." You stop in your tracks, refusing to enter the room once more.

"You were gone too long. It's time to head back." 

Daemon opens the secret passage to your chambers – your prison. You resist, but he tugs you along anyway. 

He settles you on your bed. "I will return soon. For now, use your fingers to get through your heat. Do not leave your room. Do you understand me?"

He spoke with such force you felt fear of being left alone again. You frown, not responding and not looking at him, either. 

You know you don't have the luxury of time. Daemon's treading a fine line; you could be caught any moment now. 

In distress, he grabs your neck. "Do you understand me, princess?"

Shocked, you nod, tears swelling up again. Daemon's resolve softens at the sight, guilt weighing his heart down. He’s a fucked up mess now.

He removes his hands from you and gently wipes the fallen tears away. "The next time I return, I'm taking you with me." 

He sealed his promise with a kiss on your temple, and just like a flicker, he was gone. Disappeared within the walls of the castle.

You lie there dumbfounded, abandoned in the dark. The throbbing between your legs grew more prominent with the unfinished business. 

He really left you.

The disbelief turned into frustration and shame and soon festered into anger. You knew your fingers wouldn't be enough this time, and you'll be damned if you let Daemon tease you for nothing.

Despite his warnings, you leave the bed and wander the halls looking for the man. At this point, Daemon would be by Blackwater Bay about to board his boat, and getting through the hidden passages would only get you lost, so you settle on getting there through the main route. 

The darkness of the night cloaked your disheveled state, and your bare feet masked the sounds of your hurried steps. 

Frantic and mind clouded by lust, you find yourself in the godswood occupied by a lurking patron. You hardly noticed the figure hiding in the shadows until you collided with its solid chest.

You wince at the impact, holding out your hands to steady yourself. 

"Y/n."

The familiar deep voice reels you back into the present. Aemond stands tall with his hands clamped against his back, as usual, face annoyingly stoic. His intimidating stance makes you feel small in the dark.

"Uncle." You manage to greet back, caught off guard by his presence.

You should have known better. In addition to the dozen guards watching your every move, Aemond took it upon himself to personally keep you in your place. Always looking, constantly checking.

Despite his constant presence, you find it hard to look your uncle's face in the eye. The one eye is usually filled with contempt, but at this moment, it searches your face with intrigue and skepticism until it strays down to your bosom.

"Pray tell where are you off to at this late hour? And in such a rush, you forget your indecency." He tsked mockingly. 

Your face turns warm, and you quickly cover up your exposed flesh with silver hair. In your haste, you carelessly left your quarters with only your night shift, the thin fabric barely covering your figure.

"I… could not find sleep. I fancied a walk. That is all."  

You don't look at him as you say it. If you did, he'd see right through you. Instead, you stare off in the distance with your arms crossed, a piss attempt to somehow protect yourself.

He hums at your answer before stepping forward, invading your space. 

"You're lying." 

Without warning, he raises one hand behind his back and grabs your jaw, forcing you to look at him. You gasp at the sudden contact.

He leans in, sneering. "If you're going to lie, at least have the decency to say it to my face, or don't say shit at all."

You grasp his arm, clawing to get away from him. "Release me." You grit out.

"I'll ask you again. What are you doing?" His grip on you only tightens. It irritates you greatly that he can keep you captive with just one arm. "What is it that you're planning? Is your traitor mother here to get you? Planning to take the crown, hm?" 

You continue to struggle against him, concern increasing at the realization that the wetness between your legs is growing from the harsh touch of Aemond's skin.

Thinking fast, you recall Jacaery's training. You flip Aemond's elbow and quickly follow it up with a shove. And just because you're rarely presented with such an opportunity, you also hit his nose with your head. Hard. 

He stumbles, startled at the ambush. Still, a hint of a smirk plays at his lips.

You manage to get away, glaring at the imposing man. "Trust me, the crown is furthest from my mind right now." 

Before your mind is wholly overturned by your heat, you turn to flee, but with swift feet, Aemond seizes you. 

"You're not leaving."

He pins you against the large tree in the middle of the garden, wrapping his hand around your neck to keep you in place.

And with that, you all but lost control.

A moan escapes your lips. The pressure of his palm on your neck, coupled with his body weight leaning against yours, is enough to give your touch-starved body pleasure.

Aemond freezes at the sound, the noise echoing in the quiet garden. Bewildered, he pulls back to study your face. At this point, your eyes are fully dilated, breath coming uneasy and legs clamped tighter than a mangled knot. 

He presses on your neck once more, and unwillingly you let out another needy moan. 

"You're in heat." He realizes, disbelief painted on his features.

"Yes." You hissed out. "So either you do something about it or let me go find someone else who will."

For a moment, his perfectly practiced mask falls, and his grip on you loosens. Just when you thought you'd be free, he slots his thigh between your legs, pinning your bottom against him.

"Aemond." You gasp at the sudden pressure. You grip his thigh, unsure if you want to pull it away or ride it.

He leans down to take in your scent. "I thought they were only legends. A child’s tale. I read about them, the things the heat does to the woman and the greatness that comes after.” He presses down more, and you almost buckle to your knees. "You're never going to find someone who can properly take care of this, sweet niece."

Daemon. The thought grows more distant the more Aemond floods your senses.

With both hands, he lifts your face towards him. 

"Allow me the honor." He whispers, breath fanning your face. 

The pressure was too much to bear, and you couldn't take it anymore. You make a move and lean in to take his mouth into yours. He receives you immediately, tongue already slipping inside to greet yours.

Like him, his kiss is unrelenting.

Panting, you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders to pull him closer. His mouth traveled down to kiss your jaw, settling on tasting and nipping at the skin of your neck. Your back arch at the sensation.

You pull away just enough to mumble in a daze, "take me to bed, Aemond."

He lifts your legs to wrap around his hips, and you revel at the feel of his cock straining hard against his breeches. You nearly humped him right there and then.

You expect him to carry you into his chambers, but he turns the other way and settles you down to the ground underneath the shadow of the evergreen. He discards his coat and lays it beneath your back, protecting you from the sharp prickle of the grass.

He leans back to take you in. 

You lay there sprawled open to him. Only illuminated by the moonlight, you look ethereal. Your silver hair shines despite being scattered on the earth, and your skin glows with fever and anticipation. You look unworldly. Inhuman. Like an unclaimed dragon. 

Aemond had never seen something so captivating.

"What are you…." You reach up to feel him again, desperate for his touch.

His hands caress your legs, lifting your night shift further until your bottoms are exposed to him. He grips your inner thigh, blood pumping with excitement.

"No time. You need release now."

His slender fingers find you, and he plays with the wetness he finds there. Aemond's manhood nearly bursts at the feel of your supple skin. He wastes no time exploring your heat. You whimper at the intrusion, grateful for the sensation but yearning for more, for something bigger. 

He leans down to kiss you once more. "Patience, dōna mirre."

Before you know it, he dips down, head in between your legs and mouth on you. You stifle a scream that would surely wake the entirety of King’s Landing. Aemond groans against your cunt, mouth lapping at the continuous flow of sweet nectar. A taste no man could resist, driving anyone to addiction. It did not take long for you to reach your first release of the night. 

Aemond only ascends when you push his head away, skin still sensitive from fighting his incessant tasting.

He makes quick work of his trousers, taking his cock out. He strokes it as he watches you come down from your high. Slender arms cover your face, chest heaving at the impact of your release. 

Gently, he brushes a nipple, and instantly, it hardens.

"Gods."

With a tug, he reveals your breasts, ripping away at any fabric that dares cover you from him. You yelp at the quick removal, skin shivering at the cold air. While he's distracted by your naked body, you take the opportunity to take hold of the flesh poking your thighs.

He groans at your touch, hips thrusting for more. 

"So needy."

You bite your lip, wanting more. "Please, uncle."

He leans back, gaze fixed down to where his cock slides between your folds, slick coating every inch of him. "Is this what you want, sweet girl?"

"Yes, yes." You preen desperately. 

He remains sliding his cock on your glistening pussy, bud nearly aching at the little friction. He could do it. Slide right inside you so easily. With your wetness he wouldn’t have to fight any resistance. Just tight slick heat waiting to swallow him. 

But even with the sheer desire radiating off him, you sense a hint of hesitation holding him back.

"Aemond?" You call out to him, concerned.

His gaze snaps back to yours, face suddenly serious. "Once I break your virtue, no husband will take you. No husband means no allies. No allies mean no crown. Is that what you want?"

He speaks sense, and you should likely listen for your own good. But you find it hard to comprehend the future ahead of you. It might be your heat making you delirious, but all you want is now, and all you want is Aemond.

You take hold of his hand, placing a tender kiss on his palm. "Then wed me. Make me your wife," 

Aemond's heart sputters at the proposition. Everything his family has been building for would come crumbling down if he said yes; the war he's been fighting for would be for nothing, but all that didn't make the offer any less appealing.

You sense the pause your words had on him, so you continue speaking. "or just fuck me and forget me. Aōha iderennon, issa prince. "

With a curse, he makes his choice. He presses at your entrance, plunging deeper until he's satiated inside you. "Fuck." 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as satisfaction finally seeps into your bones. Aemond's thrusts start slow and careful but soon gain momentum, until he's relentlessly pumping into you.

Aemond lifts your leg to hook to his hips, pulling you closer. Holding each other, your hands never leave his skin. His back, his behind, his hair. You were always touching him one way or another. He rests his weight by his arms, face buried in your neck. 

"Aemond.." you moan his name, wanting to see him, you lift his face from your nape.

For the first time, you faced him, and his eye held no contempt. Your breath is taken away at the sight. The once harsh lines of his face turned into something delicate, and the fixed frown he wore every day no longer tainted his handsome features. At this moment, he is beautiful.

You trace the prominent scar, mindful of his trauma. You remember the night it happened so vividly, and never would have thought it all would lead to this.

He flinches at your touch, head rearing back. He was still within reach, so you coax him back by stroking his jaw instead, coupling it with a flush of your hips and light kisses. He relaxes, and this time you reach for his eyepatch. You lock gazes with him, silently asking for permission. You wanted to see him in all his vulnerability. 

He only closes his eye, face stilling to let you remove the leather. And with a flick of your wrist, the veil falls to the ground.

In all his glory, you see Aemond Targaryen for who he is. 

The wounded eye was stripped of any skin on his left eyelid, leaving a bright shining sapphire eye in its place. You heard rumors of the one-eye second son and his sapphire eye. Only a few saw it; the majority that didn't deny its existence, but the ones that did spoke of its haunting beauty. 

But you did not see it for long. With only just a few seconds, Aemond hides his face back into your neck. 

Flashes of insecurity pierce Aemond's heart. He's never been this intimate with anyone, and he certainly did not foresee it to be with the sister of the man that maimed him. He's starting to fear he'll find himself far in the deep end, unsuspecting of the waters he plunged into. He plans to make you cum quickly, determined to distract you from his shame.

But you don't allow it. With a shift of your weight, you roll over, pinning him against the tree's bark. Now you're the one on top, and you hold his shoulders down, making him look up to you. Aemond's throat dries at the sight of you mounted on top of him.

“Y/n-”

"Look at me."

The power in your voice makes him obey. Once your eyes lock, you search for a hint of trust, and once you're sure he's not to pull away again, you start riding him. You roll your hips, moving to hit the spot inside you. He supports you with gentle touches on your back and tweaks to your nipples.

Aemond watches in awe, letting you chase your climax. In your state, he is clearly reminded that like him, you're a dragon rider. A rightful Targaryen. You move like you ride a dragon — confident, strong, and in control. 

It makes his cock hard.

Your movements grow frantic, the familiar high nearing close. Aemond starts meeting your thrusts, cock plunging deeper at the new position. You feel your cunt produce one last slick of wetness before constricting around him, body spasming with pleasure. Aemond quickly followed, capturing your mouth in one last kiss before finishing inside you. 

Satisfied, the fire inside you subdues, and you feel your body grow light, at ease. Exhausted, you fall into slumber. 

Not Aemond. 

He lays there with you in his arms wide awake. He clutches you in an embrace, shielding you from the nearing sunrise. If he could stay there buried inside you for the rest of his days, away from the war, all the scheming – he would. But reality is creeping up on him, and he's reminded of his choice.  

"Make me your wife, or just fuck me and forget me. Aōha iderennon, issa prince.”

Aemond has yet to grow old and wise, but even then he knew one thing – even if he tried, he could never forget you. He could conquer the earth and back, claim the mightiest dragon on land, and win the greatest of wars. In the end, he knows you'll still plague his mind, body, and soul. 

So he made a choice, and this time, he let the Gods decide his fate. 

-

dōna mirre - sweet thing

Aōha iderennon, issa prince - your choice, my prince

Fun fact! Tessaryon is inspired by Tessarion, the goddess of music, arts, knowledge, healing, plague, prophecy, poetry, beauty, archery, and booty — A god of old valyria.

[stitchzin]

Sasuke The Demisexual King

I was a bit apprehensive about making this post because English is not my native language. So, apologies in advance. But thank you @kirinlady for the comment.

First of all, being demisexual has nothing to do with being gay or straight; you can be either. Another point is that you can have your headcanon; you are free to do so. But I am focusing on the canon line Kishimoto intended, which was SasuSaku from the start, according to the databooks and the novels.

There is A LOT OF CONTEXT SO GET READY.

Let's start!

In the first part of the Naruto series, Sasuke is very touch-deprived, traumatized by his family's murder by his brother, living in the house where they were killed, and self-isolating. A more correct way to describe it is to say he is touch-starved. Lack of physical touch can lead to feelings of emptiness and loneliness.

Sasuke had been without care for so long that being touched in a non-aggressive way might have given him sensory overload.

It's important to discuss these points when it comes to Sasuke's story. Naruto was also touch-deprived, but he externalized it, while Sasuke internalized it. This context aside:

A good part of the reason why people think Sasuke is gay is because he repels the touch of women and rejects flirtations from many girls. Sasuke doesn't need to feel anything towards these people, no matter their intentions. A man rejecting a girl does not make him gay, just as a girl rejecting a guy does not make her a lesbian. People have the right to their own bodies. It doesn't matter if you or many people would act differently; Sasuke is not that guy.

As I said, you can have your headcanon, but even fictional characters are people. Doubting someone's sexuality just because they don't follow a pattern says more about people in real life than about the character.

A good example is Gaara, who is clearly asexual with clear romantic feelings towards Naruto. I can see that in him more than in Sasuke. But this is my headcanon. I said Asexual no Aromantic.

Back in the series, Sasuke eventually gets more comfortable with Team 7. Kakashi respects his boundaries, Naruto is not the hugging type with him, but Sakura is another story. He can not avoid her like all the girls.

But this time is different. He sees her maturing, becoming a friend to him, and like a sister to Naruto. And this is the part where Sasuke starts to change. Seeing Sakura and Naruto's interactions makes him angry, maybe jealous. Sakura's attention was entirely his, but now it isn't, though a lot of it still is for him.

And this healthy distance makes him realize he misses her, maybe even wants her close. This brings us to the second part of being touch-deprived: What do you do when someone touches you? Mostly, he stands there or keeps his arms still. But he is not annoyed or pushing her away. He could, but he just doesn't want to.

She has such power over him that she can stop him even while he is controlled by Orochimaru's seal. He reaches for her while in pain, he gets mad when she is hurt. We all love the phase "who did this to you". He remembers her hug when he is losing control. She is that light.

They are kids at this point, but I really think he had feelings already. He wanted to protect her as a friend, and as something he did not understand. Lets not mention the blant Jealousy at adate ( =I think that's his name", and feeling powerless when Naruto saves her instead of him. But he had no time to figure out his feelings before being manipulated by Orochimaru's machinations to leave.

Even when he left, Sasuke accepted her feelings but chose to go anyway. But accepting her feelings, doesn't mean he is ready or is the time to act on them.

I have a post on their goodbye.

Now to the point of the post: Is Sasuke demisexual?

Demisexuality means being sexually attracted to someone only when you have an emotional bond with them.

The first part of the post was about 12-year-olds. This part is about 15/16-year-olds. Sasuke could have had any girl, and this is the age where most people's hormones are crazy. But he does not feel that need.

When facing Sakura for the first time, he recognizes her immediately. Sure, her hair is the same, but it has been three years. He is not attacking; he is just looking at her. It could be coldness, or it could be a boy who does not know what to do. I can't know what would have happened if they were alone. Sasuke shifts after Naruto gets there. His voice tone is different; he is not as pleased to see Naruto as he is to see her.

(there are great fics on this cenario, I would love some links because it was the SasuSaku fanfiction golden age)

This part is a more general view, but MOST demisexuals don't flirt like most people. Since it is deeply connected to emotions, there are a lot of acts of service, a lot of stares, and small touches. Much of what Sasuke shows towards Sakura and only Sakura.

And there is Karin. I dont have her, I like her. She is a great charact with great backstory if you don't agree fight me.

But Karin is very disrespectuful at the begning. Maybe that is why there was so much hate.

Sasuke pushes Karin away in a more respectful way than she behaves with him. He is not interested in that. Karin is pretty; anyone would want to be with her, but Sasuke did not because does not have feelings for her, plus she did not respect him. Even traveling with him for some time, she still did not respect his boundaries. Maybe that is why he has no warm feelings towards her. Feelings that would keep him from doing that infamous Danzo scene.

Karin did nothing to harm Sasuke, yet he harmed her because she wasn't important to him. So there were no feelings to hold him back, even a little. The once-manipulated Sasuke, this time by Obito, had no problem getting rid of her.

Yes, he was wrong. Terribly wrong, because she had helped him so many times. But the reason was that she wanted him carnally. And this does not flowrish in Sasuke.

Sakura and Sasuke are on a whole other level. Sasuke was fed up with Naruto and Kakashi because, even though Sakura also wanted him in the village, her methods to pursue him were different on his eyes. Sakura had hugged him, Sakura had begged him to stay. He had a completely different vision of her.

He attacked Naruto first.

But Sakura attacked him first, so he reacted.

I really think "losing Sakura" made him even madder. He dived even deeper into his sadness. She was that one thing he was sure about. Honestly, I think his offer was to push her away because hurting her would hurt him.

Sasuke put those feelings inside once more. But seeing her again at the war, he answers only to her. The more he tries to push her away, the stronger those feelings come. And he is always watching her. He smiles when she destroys the ground, she shakes when she calls him.

And he claims, "I have no reason to be loved by her or to love her," even if that was not what Kakashi said or asked. He said Sakura wanted to help him. Honestly, he brought up the romance card. The moments their eyes clicked, when he came to save her and succeeded, the way he once felt powerless to do as a child. So he puts her to sleep because her words would stop him.

Maybe he could take Naruto in a fight, but he could not handle Sakura's cry one more time.

Because he thinks he does not deserve her. He leaves and travels. Again, he could have had anyone at this time once more. Now a man with crimes pardoned, a respected man. Only when he was complete did he come back.

People talk about Sakura's constant "afterglow" when Sasuke is in the village. They comment that they have pillow talks, the intimacy he craves, and a person to go and call home.

Sasuke never loved another because he had already accepted Sakura's feelings at age 12. Sasuke never wanted another physically because he had wished for only one person. His desires are connected to his emotions.

Sasuke says that no matter how far they are, or how long they haven't seen each other, his feelings for Sakura will never change.

And neither have hers.

Ending with this frame because it shows what I think is the start of his feelings. Look at how beautiful she is; this is Sasuke's vision. I think Sakura is very pretty. But here, she is much prettier than normal.

He sees her as more beautiful than we do.

[zepskies]

Never Say Goodbye - Part 9

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader 

Summary: The first time you and Dean sensed each other’s thoughts and feelings, you were just kids. It would take years to realize that you both were bonded for life, and even longer to finally meet. [Soulmate AU] (Rated M for eventual scenes – 18+)

Word Count: 5,000 Warnings: Angst, canonical character death, hurt/comfort and many, many feels.

Part 9: Intensive Care

You only felt a little ridiculous repeating yourself for the hospital receptionist.

“Dean McGillicuddy,” you said. Your nails tapped impatiently on the counter. Meanwhile, the woman behind the desk seemed to take her sweet time sorting through the computer records.

“He’s in Intensive Care,” she informed you. “Just so you know, only family members are allowed to visit at this time. What’s your relation to the patient?”

You made the decision to lie before you even really thought about it—with an age-old tactic since the movie While You Were Sleeping, circa 1995. 

“I’m his fiancé,” you said. “What’s the room number?” 

Once she gave you the room, you booked it down the hall and up the stairs three floors (the elevator was taking too long). You were breathing heavier by the time you swept into the room, but then your lungs constricted. 

A gasp got stuck in your throat when you saw Dean. He laid intubated in the hospital bed, with several wires crisscrossed along the floor, two monitors steadily beeping, various bruises and lacerations spread across his face and arms, and a nasty cut stitched down his forehead. 

“Dean…” Tears welled up in your eyes.

Standing beyond his bed was an older man you hadn’t seen before. He had dark hair, a salt-and-pepper beard, handsome features. He also looked banged up with his arm in a sling (presumably from the accident), and in his blood-stained undershirt, wrinkled buttoned-down, and jeans. He looked up at you, confused and suspicious.

“Who are you?” he asked. There was edge in his deep voice, and his posture straightened. Defensive. Protective.

Another small gasp fell from your lips. Your gaze lifted from Dean to the man’s face and you instinctively told him your name.

He seemed to recognize it in an instant. His eyes widened as he realized who you were, then they softened. His shoulders loosened.

So you approached Dean’s bed and raised a shaking hand to the crown of his head. Very gently, you brushed back his hair, traced the outline of his stitches down his forehead. You sought the warm thread of your soul bond, but you couldn’t feel him at all. The connection was solid, but silent. 

The man on Dean’s other side shifted on his feet, bracing one hand on the bed frame. You then realized this must be John Winchester, Dean’s father, who you’d never met before. And he was watching you with some measure of curiosity. 

With a hot blush, you remembered your manners and stuck out your hand across the bed.  

“I’m glad to finally meet you, Mr. Winchester…sir.”

After a beat, his shoulders relaxed. His lips pulled into a smile and he took your hand.

“Just John is fine,” he said. “...Dean’ll be happy you’re here.”

You gave a weak smile. John was slow to lower back into his seat at Dean’s right, while you stood at Dean’s left. Before you could find something else to say, Sam walked in with a duffel bag and hell on his heels. He spared you a smile and a hug when he noticed you.  

“Good to see you,” he said, with a gentle pat of your back. You let out a halting breath.

“You too,” you replied. Despite the circumstances.

But when Sam released you and looked at his father, his face fell into a tight frown.

“Something wrong?” John asked.

Sam’s lips pursed. He dumped the duffel bag at his father’s feet. “You think I wouldn’t find out?” 

John’s brows furrowed. “What’re you talking about?”

“That stuff from Bobby. You don’t use it to ward off a demon, you use it to summon one,” Sam said. “You’re planning on bringing the demon here and having some stupid macho showdown!”

This conversation was lost on you, but you weren’t about to interrupt. You sat down on the edge of the bed, took Dean’s hand, and watched Sam in worry. John, however, looked calm.

“I have a plan, Sam,” he said.

“That’s exactly my point!” Sam shouted. “Dean is dying, and you have a plan. You know, you care more about killing this demon than you do about your own son!”

You’d never seen him so angry before. It was starting to scare you, especially when he emphasized that Dean was dying. 

Fresh tears burned in your eyes and your lower lip wobbled as you looked down at Dean. You didn’t notice that John glanced at you before answering his son.

“Do not tell me how I feel,” John argued back. “I am doing this for Dean.”

Sam glared incredulously. “How? How is revenge going to help him? You’re not thinking of anybody but yourself! It’s the same selfish obsession!”   

“You know what, I thought this was your obsession too,” John shot back. “This demon killed your mother, killed your girlfriend. You begged me to be a part of this hunt! Now, if you killed that damn thing when you had the chance, none of this would’ve happened!”

“It was possessing you, Dad!” Sam ground out. “I would have killed you too.”

You perked up at that, mostly confused. You’d pieced together that the demon had somehow caused their car crash, but it had possessed John too?

“Yeah, and your brother would be awake right now,” John said. 

“Go to hell,” Sam spat. 

It probably wasn’t your place to interrupt, but part of you wanted to speak up and stop this. You started to feel a growing sense of anxiety and frustration, even anger at these two men. You had the sudden urge to tell both of them to shut the hell up. 

Then a quiet gasp fell from between your lips as you realized something. You were anxious, yes, and scared. But angry? 

Had that thought really been yours?

It felt a bit like that first time, long ago. When you were a child standing in a cold cemetery on the worst day of your life, but you started to sense thoughts and feelings that weren’t your own…

“I should’ve never have taken you along in the first place,” John said. “I knew it was a mistake!”

Sam opened his mouth to spew back a hot retort, until a glass of water on the rolling tray between them fell and shattered on the tile ground.

I said shut up!

This time when you gasped, both John and Sam noticed you. Both quieted with apologetic looks. 

And one of Dean’s monitors started to beep more rapidly. All three of you stared at it for a moment in shock—and then it flatlined. 

Sam rushed out of the room and called for help while you pressed the emergency button multiple times. John called his eldest son’s name, and was still trying to reach him when the nurses rushed in. Two of the nurses guided you out of the way. You didn’t want to leave his side, but in shock and desperation you looked back at Sam. He gently took you by the shoulders over by the door. 

John also leaned against the wall while the medical staff tried more than once to resuscitate Dean with the defibrillator. Each shock arched his chest, but didn’t stabilize his heart. 

“No,” Sam said, shaking his head. Tears poured down your face as you hiccupped a sob.   

“Still no pulse,” the nurse said. The doctor nodded.

“Okay, let’s go again,” he said. “360.”

“Charging.”

“Clear.”

“All clear.”

By the third round, you were all but leaning against Sam with your face buried in his side. His supportive arm wrapped around your shoulder. He had the door jam in a death grip with his other hand.

I said get back!

The thought rang out clear as a bell in your mind. This time you could even hear Dean’s voice. 

And his heartbeat finally stabilized into a steady rhythm. You let out a shaking sob in relief. Sam’s hand tightened on your shoulder and he led you to a nearby chair. You looked up at him, not knowing what you wanted to say or what to think. Sam had similar relieved tears in his eyes. He nodded and let out a sigh before he turned back to his father, who looked three shades paler. 

“Want to get back to your room?” Sam said. After a moment, John seemed to snap out of it and actually see his younger son. He nodded, though his gaze was focused on Dean. Sam’s lips pressed, but he went over and helped make sure his dad made it back to his hospital room.

“I’m sorry about that. All that arguing,” Sam said. He returned to you in Dean’s room with a cup of coffee for you. “Me and my dad…we don’t always see eye-to-eye.”

That was a bit more than a petty argument, but okay, you thought. 

“I can relate,” you said. “But Sam, what happened? What caused the crash?”

Sam hesitated, but he proceeded to tell you more about the Yellow Eyed demon, as well as the events that started from Sam and Dean finding their father, and the demon, and ending with being hit full-force by a mack truck. 

It was a lot to process with one watery cup of coffee, but you managed with a slight tremor in your hands. 

Sam assessed you.

“Did you drive here without stopping?” he asked.

You looked down at yourself and realized you were still wearing your blouse, skirt, and heels for work. You had stopped at your house briefly to grab a few things, but you still hadn’t changed or eaten since you left the museum.

“More or less,” you said.

“Maybe you should—”

“Sam,” you interrupted, “I…I heard something. Felt something. I think…I think it was Dean.”

Sam straightened in his seat across from you. “You did?”

“Through the…our connection,” you said. “When the glass shattered, and again when he…before they brought him back.”

Sam brought his folded hands to his lips as he thought. A determined look then flashed across his face. “I’ll be back.”

“Where are you going?” you asked. 

“I can…well, it’s a long story. But basically, I felt him too. I’m going to see if we can do something with that,” Sam admitted. You didn’t know what he meant, but you weren’t about to stop him. He left you alone with your coffee and your thoughts. 

You got up from your chair and made your way to Dean’s bedside. You touched his hand, his long fingers and scraped knuckles. You sought out the warm current of energy inside your mind, and you tugged on the soul bond.

Dean? 

You waited, but there was no response. 

Dean, can you hear me? you tried again. 

Nothing. Your shoulders fell as you deflated. The damage to his brain was enough to be unpredictable, but still, the doctor had very little hope that Dean would wake up.

You bit your lower lip to stop it from trembling. Tears still worked their way down your face. You covered it with your hands, as if you could block out the world and stop it from moving forward.

You just didn’t know that Dean’s ghost-like spirit was standing right next to you. He’d tried to call out to you, to Sam, to John several times, but none of you could hear him. Now, his heart was tearing at the sight of you. 

Unlike in phone calls and emails and texts you two had shared over the past year, he couldn’t just tell you it was going to be all right anymore. 

Because this time, he had no idea what he was going to do.

Sam brought in a Ouija board to try and communicate with the spirit that was most likely Dean. You were skeptical, and even wary of that hoodoo crap, but Sam asked you to trust him.

Eventually, Sam was successful in contacting Dean. He was able to tell you and Sam that an actual reaper was after him.

“What’s a reaper? As in black hood and scythe—Grim Reaper?” you asked Sam. 

“Pretty much,” he said. “They help schlep souls to the afterlife. But if one’s here naturally for Dean…damn it.”

“What?” you asked in worry. 

“He’s…he’s screwed,” Sam said. “There’s no way to stop it.”

That gripped you icily, but the thread of energy inside you pulsed in your chest. You raised a hand to your heart.

Our souls are like molecules, you remembered Dean telling you once. Just trying to connect.

“No,” you replied. “I can still feel him, which means he isn’t gone. Isn’t there anything we can do?”

“I’m going to find out,” Sam said. He’d renewed his determination with a stealed look. “There’s gotta be a way. Dad will know what to do.”

Sam got up and once again left you alone in the room, packing up the board as he went. 

You let out a shaky sigh. He was likely off to do his own research…but so could you!

You went down to your car and grabbed your laptop (plus a sandwich from the food court). From there you returned to Dean’s bedside, tore into a tuna melt, and started looking up everything you could find on reapers.

It had been a long drive from South Dakota, and the most trying hours of your life, but you focused on the screen in front of you. 

A few hours later, you struggled to keep your bleary eyes open and had to jolt yourself awake. You hadn’t found anything that could help Dean so far.

With a sigh, you set your laptop in the second, now empty chair. 

Dean? you tried again, but you could no longer feel his spirit like you had before. The bond was there, but it wasn’t thrumming strong. It was just…steady. 

For now, a traitorous thought whispered. You shook your head and got up from the chair, stretching your cracking back as you went. You’d kicked off your heels a while ago, so you padded barefoot to Dean’s bedside and sat down. You took comfort in watching his chest rise and fall in easy sleep. Or at least, you could pretend he was just sleeping.

Okay, channeling Sandra Bullock, you thought with a slight smile. You brushed your fingers through his short sandy hair, which was shades lighter than Sam’s and his father’s. Maybe Dean took after his mother. 

“I’m grateful, you know,” you said. Maybe it was silly to talk to him out loud, but getting the words out made you feel like he could actually hear you this time.

“Bobby, my dad, your dad. None of them got the time they thought they were going to have with their person. So…so however long we get, I’ll try to be all right with that,” you said, even though your voice started to break. 

“I just want you know, before anything else happens…that I love you,” you confessed. “I love you. The only regret I have is that I didn’t make you take me with you when you left. Because if I’m honest, I hate that you keep leaving me behind.”

You covered your face at the tears sliding down, trying and failing to blot them out. That’s when Sam returned. He was apologetic when he noticed the state you were in, but you waved him in anyway. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen you cry today.

“Have you found anything?” you asked, sniffling.

“I’ve looked, but there’s nothing that can repel or kill a reaper. I can’t find my dad either,” he said. 

That fell between you with a heavy thud. You didn’t want to acknowledge his words, so you distracted yourself. You noticed the dark circles beneath his eyes.  

“Do you need a coffee? You look like you do. I’ll get you one,” you said. You wiped your face and got up to do just that, slipping your heels back on. Sam smiled.

“When you do that, it kind of reminds me of Dean,” he said. 

Your head tilted curiously. “What?”

“He may not look it, but he’s been looking after me…pretty much my whole life,” Sam admitted.  

You smiled. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me at all.”

When you left, Sam’s smile dropped. He approached his brother’s bedside.

“I don’t know how to help you,” he said. “But I’ll keep trying, all right? For her sake, for everyone…as long as you keep fighting.”

He smiled and laughed a little. “I mean, you can’t leave me alone here with dad. We’ll kill each other, you know that. Dean…you gotta hold on. You can’t go, man. Not now. We were just starting to be brothers again.”

Sam let out a shuddering sigh. He stood in silence there for a few minutes, just wracking his brain. What can I do? What the fuck do I do? 

When you returned, Sam was still standing in the same spot. He almost didn’t hear you when you offered him his cup of coffee. 

“Sam,” you started, but that was when both of you heard a hacking cough.

A gasp fell from your lips.

Dean was choking on his breathing tube because he was awake. Sam went to press the call button while you called for a nurse. Soon enough the room was crowded again with medical personnel. But this time, your tears were born of relief.

“Do you want some more water? Or are you hungry?” you asked. “I think I can snag you a sandwich from downstairs instead of the potato surprise they got cooked up for your neighbors.”

Dean stopped you from fluffing his pillow again. Sam sat at his right, not bothering to cover up his smile. 

“Hey, just stop, okay. Relax,” Dean said. He reached for your busy hands and un-busied them. He brought you down to sit on the edge of his bed. He liked the look of you in your pretty white blouse, black skirt, and heels. But he didn’t like how exhausted you and Sam looked. 

Dean stroked the back of your hand and glanced at Sam.

“You said a reaper was after me?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah.”  

“How’d I ditch it?” Dean asked.

“You got me,” Sam replied. “Dean, you really don’t remember anything?”

Dean rubbed his stomach with his free hand. “No, except for this pit in my stomach. Sam, something’s wrong.”

“What do you mean?” you asked in concern. Dean almost kicked himself. He didn’t want to worry you—

“I’d rather you tell me the truth than hide it from me,” you told him, more sternly. You’d picked up on the trail of his thoughts through the bond, which was once again flaring with life.

His lips quirked. “Damn. Forgot we’re basically human lie detectors again.”

“Yeah.” Your lips quirked into a smile. “So don’t bother trying, tough guy.” 

There was a knock on the door, making all three of you turn to see John Winchester. He stood in the doorway to Dean’s hospital room with his arm in a sling. 

“How you feelin’, dude?” John asked with a smile.

“Fine, I guess,” Dean replied. “I’m alive.”

You squeezed his hand at that, and he gave you a small smile. 

“That’s what matters,” John agreed.

“Where were you last night?” Sam asked. He stood from his seat, crossing his arms at his father. 

“I had some things to take care of,” John replied.

“Well, that’s specific.”

“Come on, Sam,” Dean interjected. You felt his annoyance and sensed this was an ongoing battle between the three men. That Dean had often been the one trying to play peacemaker here. The argument you witnessed between John and Sam made a lot more sense to you now. 

“Did you go after the demon?” Sam pressed.

John shook his head. “No.”

“You know, why don’t I believe you right now?” Sam snapped. 

Dean held in a sigh, lowering his head. He was too tired to do this balancing act between his father and brother. 

You rubbed his arm, though you looked between Sam and John uncertainly. You weren’t sure what to do either…

But John stepped into the room and kept his tone civil, even gentle. 

“Can we not fight?” he asked. “You know, half the time we’re fightin’, I don’t know what we’re fightin’ about. We’re just buttin’ heads.” 

Sam quieted then. He looked like he hadn’t been expecting that.

“Look, Sammy, I…I’ve made some mistakes. But I’ve always done the best I could,” John said. “I just don’t wanna fight anymore, okay?”

John looked damn near close to tears. According to Dean, this was a former Marine made of leather and grit and not much softness in between. You watched John in concern.

“Dad, are you okay?” Sam asked. He was picking up on the same thing—that something was off here.

But John only smiled. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m just a little tired,” he said. “Hey, son, would you mind getting me a cup of caffeine?”

Sam agreed, though he still looked uncertain. John watched him leave, then his gaze turned to his eldest. You picked up on the subtle distraction for Sam, that maybe John wanted to talk with Dean in private. So you squeezed Dean’s hand and grabbed his water cup as you stood.

“I’m gonna refill this for you. I’ll be back,” you said. 

“Thanks, baby,” Dean said, though he reluctantly let you go. 

You weren’t proud of this, but when you left the room, you also left the door open a crack and stood near it with your back against the wall. You were too curious about John Winchester. While you’d gotten the gist of his relationship with Sam, you had only a small idea of what his relationship with Dean was like.

Meanwhile, inside the room, John stood by his son’s bedside. 

“You lucked out with that girl,” John said with a smile. Dean’s was softer, and you felt the warmth of it in your chest. 

“She’s…hell, I don't know why she puts up with me.” 

You were careful to keep your thoughts and emotions from Dean, but you couldn’t help melting at that. It made you feel a bit guilty for that part of you that resented him leaving you. His reasons were important, and as much as you hated the fact that hunting had landed him in the hospital, damn near dead…you understood his family’s fight.

But you were soon shaken from your thoughts as John said something unexpected.

“I’m sorry I told you not to go after her a few years ago,” he said. “Another one of those mistakes…they seem to keep pilin’ up.”

Dean looked at his father a bit harder. There was something wrong. “What’s going on, Dad?”

You listened as John apologized to Dean. He’d put too much on a child’s shoulders. He should’ve protected his son, both of his sons, better. He shouldn’t have made Dean grow up so fast. 

“I just want you to know that I am so proud of you,” John added. 

You sensed Dean’s discomfort, even as your heart broke for him. 

“This really you talking?” Dean asked. John laughed a bit. 

“Yeah, it’s really me.” 

“Why’re you saying this stuff?”

You couldn’t hear what John said next, but you felt Dean’s reaction. Shock, disbelief, confusion—it was a confusing mix to try and sort through. And it only piqued your curiosity further. Before you could figure it out though, the hospital room door opened.

You scrambled to make it look like you had just gotten back, but John graciously smiled and didn’t comment on your obvious eavesdropping.

“Do me favor, sweetheart,” he said. 

“Uh, sure, what do you need?” you asked. 

“Dean can be a bit like me. Stubborn,” he said. “Just…look after him for me, okay?” 

You looked up at him in slight confusion. “Of course.”

Though you nodded, you were also concerned. Was he planning to make a run for it without his sons again? Was he going to go after Yellow Eyes himself? 

John rested a gentle hand on your shoulder as he passed by you down the hall. You watched him go, but Sam returned with his dad’s requested coffee in hand. 

“I think he went back to his room,” you told him. “Though you might want to check in on your dad. Something seems a bit off with him.”

Sam frowned. He also touched your shoulder as he passed by, and it made you smile. Maybe it’s a Winchester thing.

You took a breath and refilled Dean’s water like you promised you would. When you got back to his room, his greeting smile was weaker than usual. You wanted to ask him about what his dad had meant by years ago, but…you didn’t think this was the time. Dean needed rest.

You set the cup of water on the rolling tray and once again sat down on the edge of his bed.

“Are you hungry? I’ll get you that sandwich, unless you want something else,” you offered. 

“I want you to stop running around,” Dean said. He sighed and rested a hand on your thigh. “I’m sorry about all this.”

You gave him an incredulous look. “You were hurt, Dean. You don’t need to be sorry.” 

“Yeah, I do,” he said. His eyes were serious, boring into yours. You bit your lip in concern.

“But, there is something I want,” he said, a note of teasing in his voice. He tugged on your hand, playfully pulling you toward him. You inched a bit closer. 

“Come on, all the way,” he beckoned with a hand. You couldn’t help but smile and let him pull you into his arms, and then in for a soft kiss. It didn’t take long for him to deepen it, his warm hand spanning the small of your back. 

He’d been cleared by the doctor, but you were still careful with him when you touched the side of his face. It was rough with days of stubble. And he would be lucky if he didn’t have a scar left from the cut down his forehead. 

The past year alone had changed him, but you were so grateful he was alive.

Stroking his cheek, you pulled away so you could see his face. You wanted to tell him you loved him while he was awake. So you did.

“I love you, you know that?” you said. “Whether it was God, or the universe, or sheer luck of the draw, I’m glad you’re the one I got saddled with. You’re the one my soul chose.”

You both saw and felt Dean’s soft shock. Your words touched him in a way that maybe even he didn’t fully understand. 

His mouth fell open to respond, but before he could, both of you noticed a team of nurses and assistants rushing down the hallway. 

“What the hell’s going on?” Dean wondered. 

“Stay here. I’ll go check,” you said. You didn’t want him getting out of bed just yet, even if he was mysteriously healed. 

You hurried into the hall and followed the rush, only to find Sam.

He was holding John’s body on the ground, shouting, crying, and trying to shake his father awake. 

Dean’s body healed, but his heart was not so easily persuaded.

The three of you returned to South Dakota and performed a small, quiet funeral for John Winchester. Bobby explained that burning his body was insurance—so his spirit wouldn’t linger like your mom’s had. 

It made sense, but it still felt wrong to you to burn their father out in the open woods like this. It felt like it wasn’t enough. And though Dean tried to hide it from the bond, you knew he was breaking inside, just like Sam was. 

In the days afterwards, Sam and Dean stayed with Bobby while the latter worked on restoring the Impala, which had basically been crunched like a pretzel in the crash. It was beyond totaled, but if you had learned one thing about Dean, it was that this car was sacred. Even if there was one working part, it was worth taking it apart and putting it back together again.

So you watched him work in the salvage yard from inside the kitchen, where you and Bobby talked over a glass of iced tea. Slowly but surely, you were trying to get the man to cut back on the liquor.

“Something wasn’t right about it, Bobby,” you said. “When I talked to him, John was fine. He asked me to look after Dean, like he was about to take off by himself again. Like he knew he was going to leave, or…”

Like he knew he was going to die, your mind finished what you couldn’t say.

Bobby hefted a long sigh. He looked out the kitchen window at Dean for a moment. 

“Bobby?” you prodded.

“The Colt is missing,” he said. 

You nodded. The Colt was a gun, made by a known gun maker and hunter, Samuel Colt, in 1835. Sam and Dean had told you that this gun was made with special bullets. It was the only weapon on earth that could possibly kill any supernatural creature, including the Yellow Eyed demon. 

“The demon took it, didn’t he?” you said. 

“I think John gave it to him,” Bobby said. Your eyes widened.

“What do you mean?”

“I think it was a trade,” he replied. “Dean’s life for John’s, and the gun that could kill him.”

And by him, you assumed he meant Yellow Eyes. Which meant that John hadn’t been after the demon, like Sam had assumed. John had struck a deal instead. 

A few days later, Sam convinced Dean to come with him to investigate an old voicemail on one of John’s phones—from a woman named Ellen. Dean was more inclined to keep working on his car, but he reluctantly agreed to find this woman at a bar in Nebraska, called Harvelle’s Roadhouse.  

You came by Bobby’s house after work to catch them before they left. You watched Dean pack his bag in swift moves. His face was relaxed, but he was careful to keep his thoughts and emotions to himself, away from the bond. You handed him a shirt of his that you had been borrowing, and he took it with a brief “thanks.” He hadn’t truly looked at you in days.

“Dean.” You halted him with a gentle hand on his arm. It got him to look at you, at least. 

“If you need anything, even if it’s just to talk, just call me,” you said. He gave you a smile that barely reached his eyes. 

“I’m fine, really,” he said. “But thanks. I’ll let you know when we’re on the way back. Guarantee, this isn’t gonna take long.”

That wasn’t what Sam said, but Dean just kissed you on the cheek and made his way downstairs to meet his brother.   

That was Monday. It was a Saturday by the time they got back, so you were able to come by your uncle’s house and catch the brothers talking outside. You started to head toward them, but you sensed Dean’s unease through the bond. So you hung back behind a large van that at the very least, needed a new bumper.

“About me and Dad,” you heard Sam say. “I’m sorry the last time I was with him, I tried to pick a fight. I’m sorry that I spent most of my life angry at him. I mean, for all I know, he died thinking that I hate him. So, you’re right. What I’m doing right now is too little. It’s too late.”

You heard emotion start to make Sam’s voice tremble, and your heart broke for him too.

“I miss him, man,” he said. “And I feel guilty as hell. And I’m not all right, not at all…but neither are you. That much I know.”

A tendril of Dean’s irritation made it through your bond. But it was laced with deeper emotions than you’d ever felt from him—self-loathing and disgust with himself being the least of them. You covered your mouth with a shaky hand.

“I’ll let you get back to work,” Sam said. You heard his boots crunch toward you, but you couldn’t make yourself move. 

When Sam eventually found you, he looked surprised to see you, but then he softened and laid a hand on your shoulder. 

What should I do? you wanted to ask him. You didn’t know what Dean needed right now. Did he need space? Should you try to talk to him, comfort him? And if you did, what the hell should you say? 

Dean had seemed to know exactly how to comfort you after you burned your mother’s ring, laying her to rest. Before that, he’d gotten you to open up about Danny Schmitt and how that experience had rattled you. But now, you couldn’t do the same for Dean, your boyfriend. Your soulmate. 

Sam didn’t have words for you either though. He just continued inside the house, leaving you standing at a crossroads of decision. 

Right now, you felt like a failure. Your mom had always known what to say to your dad. Their connection had seemed…well, seamless. 

But you were startled out of your thoughts when you heard a crash of metal on metal. You rushed out to the clearing where Dean had already spent two weeks working on the Impala. Now he was wrecking the hood and body all over again with a large crowbar. 

You remained at a distance for a minute, not sure how to get closer but too worried to leave him be. 

Dean? you reached out tentatively with your mind.

His hands tightened on the crowbar as he struck the dented hood of the car again. Then he beat through the windows with a spectacular shatter of glass.

You flinched with a small gasp. But that sound was enough to cut through it all, at least for Dean. He stopped short, though he was heaving for breath. He looked back at you over his shoulder, his eyes widening. 

He lowered his arms and was purposefully slow when he tossed the crowbar back onto the car’s hood, letting it go. He didn’t want to face you again. You knew because you felt his shame come through the connection.

You were hesitant at first, but you deemed it safe enough to approach him. His gaze stayed on the ground, even when you touched his back. His shirt was dusty and drenched with sweat. 

Sorry, he imparted to you. 

You shook your head and slipped your hand into his. He squeezed your hand, and that gave you the courage to wrap your free hand around his arm and press yourself against his tall, strong frame from behind. But he didn’t always have to be strong.

I love you, you reminded him. Your dad loved you too. 

You let out a shaky breath. 

The last thing he said to me was a request, you said, and with a slight smile, He said you could be a lot like him sometimes, a bit too stubborn. He asked me to take care of you…and I promised that I would.

Dean breathed heavily through his nose. You knew he was fighting it, but you rubbed his arm and stayed there until the dam in both of your minds finally broke.

He released everything he was hiding from you. All his shame, the depths of his distress and grief. It all but shredded your heart. 

Tears burned in your eyes and fell, but you didn’t let that stop you from slipping around him and taking his face in your hands. When he looked down at you, his eyes were shining and red.

His mouth trembled, but neither of you spoke. You just leaned up and wrapped your arms around his neck and shoulders, bringing him to you as tight and warm as you could. 

His arms likewise slipped around your frame. At first it was just instinctive, holding you back. But as you continued to rub his back and soothe your fingers through his hair, his tight shoulders loosened.

Dean clung to you then, burying his face into your hair, your neck, pressing his lips into your skin. 

And he let go. 

AN: Whew, lots of drama and feels there. Every time I watch 2.01 I wanna give both brothers a ginormous hug. Especially Dean, poor guy.

But the reader finally met John (however brief that was). And she finally let Dean know exactly how she feels. The question is: when will Dean?

So let me know what you thought of this chapter!

The next one will be a bit lighter: the reader and Dean go on their first real date!

To keep reading: PART 10

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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[elations-vessels]

:my clematis:

”Though we met so young, in the innocence of youth, and I let you burry yourself into my heart…. I’m no good for you.”

“With you I felt unconditionally loved again.”

Remember… Remember…the day we met?

How could he forget?

Sampo sits atop the Belebog hotel, the tall roofs hiding his figure from sight. A small smile on his lips as he watches the captain of the Silvermane guard patrolling in civies. Ever so diligent, and a workaholic to the core. Didn’t that man ever take a break? He pulled out one of his daggers, twirling it in his hand. “No, I suppose you don’t…. Your father wouldn’t have approved of you ‘resting’, on your heaven forbid, day off.”

Course, Sampo already knew that he was the problem… most likely. This being the only way Gepard would even look for him… Though, him forgetting me was the point wasn’t it…? Sampo had seen old man Landau’s reaction to finding out his son had been speaking to an underworld child (himself). Saw the fear while peaking through the manor’s windows, and how Serval, ever the protective big sister put herself between Gerard and the angry lion. The bastard had thrown a literal vase near Gepard, and Sampo had wanted nothing more then to burst in and… and….Well he’d been angry… especially after what that ‘lions’ guards had done to his friends…

Bodies littered the ground, his friends that helped him try to get things to help the Underworld people… to help themselves… fear in their eyes, except for her… who’s last act in death was to laugh at the whole thing. Don’t cry…laugh!!

He’d laughed alright… but lost a lot of himself.

Well… it was that day, as he gazed at the mess and destruction he caused, Sampo knew that for how awful the Elder Landau was… The man was right about Sampo. No good, what could he possibly share, or give of value to someone so bright as the little Landau Prince. Sampo knew he’d had to make Gepard forget him. Forget the bond they’d formed, and honestly it was for the better… at least that’s what he told himself. So, saying his goodbyes to the happy… and bright boy, Sampo used the trick Aha had taught him.

While he’d dreamed…. Sampo went in and just, pulled the images of himself from the boys mind. Perhaps he’d remember ‘talking’ to an underworld child… but the face and name was gone. With a sad heart, Sampo had to say goodbye to the one who’d brought a warmth in his chest. The one who’d made him feel an elated emotion, and the one who looked at him with a smile that brought about stupid butterflies.

“But… alas, my dear…favorite…audience of one. I’m not any good for you…”

But because he was stupid, even into his adult years and he has gathered his resources… gained connections and aliases galore. Sampo ever yearned to be just that underworld child, who connected with an overworld child… and then that affection deepened over the years, because he just could not leave him… of course it was with different faces, names, voices that Sampo began to know Gepard. Then as Sampo, he’d give chase and enjoyed the attention he’d get from the blonde captain.

Could he ever reach out as himself though?

the sound of bells, and light laughter tickled his ear and he sighs. Chuckling to himself, “Of course not… I’m just a background character. Just doing things from the sidelines… isn’t that right, Miss Sparkle?”

a swish of perfume, and a giggle manifested behind him. The feeling of slender arms wrapping around his shoulders, a chin resting on his head. “Silly Sampo, why are you doing your stupid pining on roofs again?”

“Hey now, who says I’m pining?” He smirks, flicking his wrist. The dagger disappears. “I’m just observing more routs, and my territory for the day…gotta make sure things don’t go to shit while I’m gone~”

Sparkle huffs, poking his cheek. “Your lies don’t fool me, dear, I can feel your pulse. Now, why don’t we leave for the day? I got my big show in Penecony after all~ I want to do a duet before the big boom~”

He grabbed her wrist, thumb on the pulse, a light kiss. “You’re not planning on any deaths are you? I don’t do macabre duets.”

“Of course not~ I just have an idea for a… thrilling romantic moment for a certain mech and raccoon~”

He raised a brow, huh that was new. What did the laughter have in mind for the Trailblazer? He took one last look at the blonde captain, pushing down that yearning feeling.

Well… time to be a fool.

[devieuls]

The way of love pt.X

Neteyam Sully x Tayrangi Fem Reader (Na'vi)

Warning of the Serie: MDNI. Dom Neteyam x Fem Reader; SMUT; ANGST; FLUFF; Dirty Talk; Fangs; Bites; Blood; Spit; Power Play; Jealousy and Possessiveness; Foreplay; violence; Swearing; Teasing; Unprotected Sex; Enemies (because of you, Neteyam treats you well). Aged characters: Neteyam 19 y.o / You 18 y.o. SERIE

Synopsis: After a great loss happened in your family, you are forced to take a role that before did not belong to you, following a path that you will feel like your only in time. Just when you thought you were finally overcoming the loss, your clan shows up with those you blame for the great offense received. You are the daughter of the first Olo'eykte of all clans and are about to take your mother’s place to lead the Tayrangi clan, but first you must follow Neteyam (the eldest son of the man you detest with all your heart) To train him, despite your contempt for the Sullys and everything about them, you inevitably bond with the boy, unknowingly falling in love with him.

CHAPTER WARNING: ///////

Lenght : 6k

Notes: This chapter is perhaps one of my favorites, after this, will miss only the last chapter (chapter 11) and then the series will be finished. Enjoy the plot twist and leave a comment to let me understand what the chapter was like

NA'VI WORDS: 'ITE: Daughter; SA'NU: Mother; YAWNETU: Darling; NGATSYIP: Little you; PARULSYIP: Children; TANHI: Star/Bioluminescent freckles; YAWNTUTSYìP: Darling

Character Cast: NEY'NARI: Your dead sister; IKEYNI: Your Mother; TSENTEY: Your Father; YÌMKXA: Your Ikran; ULEYTE: Your bestie; TUL'PEY: Your future Mate; REYIN'AL: Neteyam's future mate and daughter of Ninat

CLOTHES AND APPEARANCE: You ; Neteyam; Reyin'al

PART: 1 ; 2 ; 3 ; 4 ; 5 ; 6 ; 7 ; 8 ; 9 ; 10 ; 11 the end

· · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · ·

Then why did your heart beat so fast at the thought of his eyes in love and enchanted as he looked at yours?

The morning came too early for your taste, the sea breeze and the sun’s rays forced you to wake up in a bad mood. A long sigh came out of your mouth when you remembered that today you were going to go to the Omatikaya clan, already feeling the pains in your stomach that made you regret even waking up.

You got up off the carpet, hearing your mother’s voice calling you already impatiently, almost certainly as she loaded her personal belongings on her Ikran, yelling at your father to do the same. You took advantage of the fact that Ikeyni seemed focused on yelling at your father to take a few minutes to eat some fruit and sneak out, to go say goodbye to Uleyte.

"Where do you think you’re going? Come back here and start loading your ikran." Your mother’s voice prevented you from implementing your escape plan, you sighed heavily before nodding and doing as she had asked.

For the next twenty minutes you loaded your items on your Ikran, doing everything slowly and unwillingly, hoping your mother would change her mind and tell you to stay home, but she didn’t. She turned her back on you by continuing to do what she was doing, not wanting to know of any protest or request to stay. Once the Ikran were ready, Uleyte had come to greet you and wish you a safe journey, much like the whole village.

Your friend took you aside before you left, taking you away from where the elders and clan were wishing a safe journey under Eywa’s protection.

"Are you all right? Are you ready?" she asked, caressing your face with kindness, noticing your little hidden expression of sadness.

"No and no, I don’t want to see him but I can’t avoid him either. I have a plan, I’m going to be the mature person who doesn’t suffer for him anymore." Your voice was pretty convincing, even though your heart knew perfectly well that it would screw up all your plans.

"Are you sure? I already have some things packed, I’m ready to get on Yìmkxa and follow you. You still have time to ask me" The girl’s words made you laugh and hugged her.

"Don’t worry, I’ll be fine." You answered and then you saw Uleyte take your face and put her forehead on yours. " Really, I’ll be fine," you whispered and smiled.

"May Eywa protect you, I will pray for you. If that Sully makes you suffer, I swear to you, I’ll learn to ride an Ikran and I’ll smack his ass." she said dramatically, only to smile and look you in the eye, leaving on your hand a band woven with the colors of the clan and small green leaves.

"Thank you…" you said with a thread of voice, then hugged her again, holding her with affection and holding the jewel. Feeling a gust of wind wrapped around your back, smiling gently, thinking that that was Ney'nari joining the embrace, just like when you were younger.

You broke away from the hug, when your mother called you from her Ikran, making you sigh before saying goodbye to your friend and return to your ikran. You put on the sash before you climbed on Yìmkxa and followed your parents in flight, noticing at the end Tul'pey watching you from afar, then turning around and going. Yet another sigh came out of your mouth as you walked with your family to the clan that had now become your worst nightmare, even though you would have liked to see Tuk, Kiri and even Lo'ak again, even though he looked like a total idiot.

The hours in flight passed faster than you thought and you watched your clan get further and further away, welcoming the land of the Omatikaya with wonder, noticing how the forest was enchanting, totally different from how you could admire it from the coastal area. Your family landed on the Omatikaya ground when the eclipse was already disappearing into the sky leaving room for the night, immediately noticing how the main village was welcoming you with much warmth.

You felt uncomfortable to see all those Na'vi who greeted you holding their hands to their foreheads and then pointing at you, returning the gesture immediately after your parents, looking at the people in front of you who opened the way for you to pass. You noticed how your mother’s pace accelerated when she saw Neytiri coming at her, hugging her with affection, while Jake formally greeted your family. Next to them you saw Kiri, Lo'ak and Tuk, but not Neteyam, you didn’t know whether to be happy or not, but a small gap in your heart made itself felt.

Tuktirey was the first to greet you, hugging you affectionately, emulating your mothers, this made you smile as you returned the little girl’s embrace.

"Have you grown taller these past few months? Soon you will reach me" you said playfully, making her laugh as you ruffled the pigtails in her head, while Kiri simply greeted you formally as Lo'ak. In the glances of the two older brothers you could notice some note of displeasure, making you realize that they probably both knew how you were emotionally.

"And you’ve become even more beautiful! Even your clothes are so beautiful!" Tuk’s voice made you smile again, she was really a sweet and kind girl, who did not miss the opportunity to give voice to her innocent and sincere thoughts.

The three young Sullys helped your family settle in one of the empty tree houses, very different from your clan’s wooden huts. You thanked the three brothers and for a few hours you spoke, while they took you out of the house to be eaten throughout the clan as was tradition. You would lie in saying that you had not sought Neteyam’s eyes among people or his perfume, but in this case you did not find them, his person around you seemed so absent.

"He can’t get out of the hut, it’s a tradition that the future Olo'eyktan stays alone in the Tsahik's hut" Lo'ak whispered to you, noticing that you were looking for something with your eyes. You were already fighting back. "I know you were looking for him, don’t pretend" he continued, making you sigh heavily before eating a steamed teylu.

"I didn’t ask" you snorted while you were eating.

"But you were looking for an answer, I just gave it to you." You turned to him, like you wanted to ask for something else, but you shut up before talking, knowing there was no point in raising your hopes.

"Thank you, but I didn’t need it." You whispered and then noticed the look of understanding that Lo'ak turned to you.

Lo'ak and Kiri could see from your eyes the same feeling of despondency that Neteyam had in these months without you. They knew that you both wanted each other and also understood your duties as future leaders of your respective clans, what they did not understand was why your parents did not come against you or why they seemed so blind to your unhappiness. When Jake announced the impending mating between Neteyam and Reyin'al, the Sullys' older brother had been desperate to have more time, he wanted to keep his promise to you, returning to you after some time, apologizing. The only one to understand it immediately was Neytiri who tried to convince her husband to give him more time. Neteyam had spent the days before her forced mating praying and meditating, looking for Eywa to beg her to take you back to him, if only to make you feel his apology.

After a few minutes of talking to Kiri and Lo'ak, an elderly Na'vi approached you, making herself known as "grandmother" thanks to Tuk who had greeted her. She asked you to follow her and you nodded, moving from the ground to follow her to an open house, where on the ground there was a young Na'vi that you recognized for the smell.

You rolled your eyes and noticed that Na'vi was Reyin'al. The old woman sat you next to her and looked at you. "Y/n te Skxumew Ikeyni'ite, as the last earthly guide of the future Olo'eyktan you are called to speak with the Tsakarem Reyin'al te Sxeke Ninat'ite, to guide her spiritually and mentally towards the great rite"The old Tsahìk, Mo'at, dismissed without too much ceremony, closing the curtain behind her. Your heart stopped beating as your lungs threatened to let you choke.

"There is nothing I can say about Neteyam more than one of his brothers can." You said after collecting as much air and security to look strong.

"You’ve been with my mate for over a month, you can tell me something more about him." Her sour voice made you doubt that she was the daughter of the singer of the Omatikaya clan.

"Is an exceptional Na'vi. He excels at everything he does, but I think you know that better than I do, because you grew up with him" Your tone became just as acidic, while a sharp tension was created in the air. She looked at you thinning her eyes, just like Pandora’s predators did before attacking their prey.

"These are things I already know, my mate is great at everything. He also told me about his lessons… with you." Reyin'al spit out the last part with poison, as if the thought of Neteyam with you burned in her mouth.

She had noticed how Neteyam spoke of you, describing you as exceptional, an excellent guide, a kind friend and admirable Leader, she had never heard him say a bad word about you. She smelled the situation, but she knew that Na'vi men were having fun with many women before mating through Tsaheylu with one woman.

He still remembered that 'Ma Tanhì' said when you asked Neteyam who she was, the way Neteyam seemed to fall apart after seeing you leave, and then run after you despite her trying to hold him back. She hated the moment they left and he wouldn’t stop looking back, or how he had waited for you to return to his hut until the last. She knew that you were something more than a teacher to him, but she could not afford to raise charges against the future Olo'eykte of a clan as powerful as the Tayrangi, best known for their skills in riding the Banshees and hunting.

"Like I said, he’s a Na'vi who excels at everything he does. He was a very good student." Your voice was cold, while you supported his predatory gaze with your indifferent, you did not intimidate Reyin'al in the slightest and she noticed.

"Then it is a good thing that he chose wisely to anticipate the rite of Tsaheylu with me. It was months away, but after he came home two months ago, he decided to cut it short. I guess I should thank you." Her words stabbed you in the chest without even expecting it. It was difficult for you to keep your face as indifferent as possible, because inside you a new piece of your soul was torn.

"There’s nothing to thank. I didn’t do anything." Reyin'al smiled at you with disdain before answering you.

"But you have done a lot. Don’t think I don’t know." At these words you looked at her, feeling the bitterness in your throat, as if it were poison.

"What would you know?" You asked, as your eyes tapered like hers, the only difference being that your eyes were more endearing, and she reassembled.

"That surely in your clan he will have fun with some woman, it is normal for Omatikaya men to have moments of leisure away from home." Her tone was mean, just like her eyes. "Of course I gave him permission for all this, you know how the guys are, but then he came back to me. He was so happy to come home, come back in my arms. He could no longer stay away from me" you looked at her with indifference, as you derealized what she was saying. "After all, I am his mate, I’ll be the one to bind myself to him and his soul tomorrow. For this, I thank you. You guided my soulmate wisely."

You took a deep breath before nodding, accepting her thanks, knowing there was something unsaid. "I only did my duty." You hissed

"You are too modest. You guided my soulmate on the right path, he returned home healthy and stronger. It’s no small feat, though I’m sure he’s had his affairs with some skank. You know, Neteyam had always been in love with me and he suffered so much from my lack that the first day when he came home we…you know. He was so passionate and engaging" his tone getting increasingly mean to you, you knew she was doing it on purpose. But the thought of Neteyam doing the same thing to you hurt so much. " He also started calling me 'Tanhi', He says I shine like a star, that’s why he calls me so. It’s something he said when we were kids, I’m so glad he remembered."

The heart fell into your stomach, being dissolved in the acids that were contained in that place. Neteyam called that woman what he called you, it hurt you, your bleeding wounds now seemed to result in hemorrhage. "I’m glad." you hissed before you got up from the tappet to get away from her.

"Don’t you wish me a safe path with my soulmate Neteyam? it is tradition." She smiled mean while watching you get up from the ground. Reyin'al waited for the blessing, noticing how your eyes revealed a veil of pain you were trying to hide. "May Eywa protect your path." You said clenched teeth, noticed her proud smile and winning posture before heading out of the hut.

You took a long, deep breath to hold back what looked like tears of pain, starting to walk to the opposite point from which you had arrived. You hated how you were feeling, you knew that maybe it was a lie, but there was that worm in your head that told you it wasn’t a lie. Why did she have to lie? Surely Neteyam did not tell her that they had had intimate moments, so why not believe her? But at the same time your heart screamed that you had to believe in him

Your heart hurt again, as if small needles were slowly puncturing it, causing you to feel pain, but you could not scream from the pain due to large throat knots. Unknowingly you found yourself in front of a closed hut but that had an unquestionable perfume, he was there.

You would have liked to see him, but at the same time you preferred not to. After two months you felt so close to him and the only thing you could do was lay your hand on the tent for a few seconds, along with your forehead, poisoning yourself with his sweet scent that was better than you remembered. You would have wanted to come in and look at his eyes as you convinced yourself that he was nobody, but your heart was beating so hard feeling his heart close again. You sighed once again before turning around and leaving, not knowing that Neteyam had felt youe presence too, but when he got up to open the tent it was too late to see you, so he thought it was just another joke of his mind.

It hurt, everything in you hurt, but in those few seconds that his perfume collided against your nose, it made you feel at home and calm. You were wondering if he really lied to you, all those promises, kisses, intimate moments, was it really all just fun?

You tried to buy yourself back, you couldn’t afford to collapse again, not in a place where everyone knew you like the next Tayrangi Olo'eykte, you would have been weak. And that’s how you swallowed your feelings, pulling the moments with Neteyam out of your mind and torturing yourself with Reyin'al’s words, it was good to know now, it would have been enough to convince you of the woman’s words and your heart would not have made a beat thinking of that boy who was not yours.

It took you some time before you found the right road to the house where you were staying with your parents, and when you found it you rushed in with the intention of going to sleep. Your mother told you a few things, but you ignored her words to keep your mind empty, nodding as if you were consenting to everything she said, then taking your things and going to sleep in those strange capsules that were the clan’s bed.

You prayed to Eywa to take away the pain, to strengthen you for the next day, and to protect your heart if you saw Neteyam, so as not to fall for him again. You closed your eyes, unknowingly seeking comfort in the necklace around your neck, forgetting that some threads are twisted belonged to Neteyam, feeling strangely better before falling asleep.

The day greeted you in a way too tortuous for you, the air was so intrinsic of happiness around you, hearing some Na'vi preparing the village for the big event. You could understand their joy, after all the eldest son of Olo'eyktan was going to take his place, and lead the clan in a new era of prosperity and peace under the gentle hand of the Great Mother.

You opened your eyes, cursing yourself for waking up one more time, hoping that for some strange reason the capsule would fall, but unfortunately for you it wasn’t.

You climbed to the platform where there were already many Na'vi coming and going with some decorative objects or delicacies for the banquet that would take place immediately after the main event. Formal and ceremonial clothes adorned the slender bodies of the tribe, and guests from other clans, reminding you that you too should have prepared to honor the new couple who would be your clan’s ally, but there was no joy in your heart, only bitterness and sadness. These feelings increased when you noticed Reyin'al coming out of Ninat’s tent, dressed in a charming manner that almost looked like Eywa's daughter. The long black braids were adorned with jewels typical of the Omatikaya, with some feathers that you recognized as those of Neteyam and his family, her face was radiant and bold as she walked through the village to return to her tent, drawing everyone’s attention and eyes on her. You envied her then.

Lucky for you your mother Ikeyni found you with a speed and ease that reminded you why she was recognized as a great hunter and observer, she took you from her arm and then dragged you to the house where you were staying, to get ready. She wasted no time and arranged your braids, picking them up slightly and putting some items representing the Tayrangi clan before sending you to change with your dissent.

"Mother, the ceremony will begin later. Don’t rush me, nobody’s waiting for me" You snorted while wearing ceremonial clothes that strangely were so complicated and full of draperies. They remembered the nets your clan used to fish, while the loincloth cloth was draped in such a way as to simulate the waves, but thanks to the light breeze it seemed to emulate something vaguely like the wind.

"Ma 'ite, of course they are waiting for you. I told you about it yesterday, Mo'at asked that the teacher of Neteyam prepare him with tribal painting as a last step lesson, from student to Olo'eyktan. You said 'yes', so they are waiting for you now" Hearing your mother’s words you opened your eyes wide and walked out of the corner where you were changing.

"Me what? No. Why me? II have not accepted anything. And then, even dad taught and trained Neteyam, why does he not do it?" Your voice revealed a slight panic and exasperation. You couldn’t believe the one time you didn’t listen to your mother, she asked you to do this. It felt like Eywa was starting to play with you again, or your sister was trying to help you again, and at that moment you remembered the speech he gave to her two months earlier.

"Because I asked you, if you had told me 'no', I would have asked Tsentey. But you said yes, and I told Mo'at and the Sully family" She said, and then she smiled at you in those clothes. "You already look like the Olo'eykte Tayrangi. Today will be your time to be the face of the clan" Her sweet voice made you breathe heavily.

You didn’t feel like making a fuss and going against your own word, if you had retreated back, your word would never have been taken seriously by anyone. You looked at your mother’s eyes, full of pride as she saw you wearing those clothes that fully represented your clan and your status.

"Your sister sewed this dress a long time ago, she said she would give it to you on the day of your social debut as the future Tsahik, as she said that you would be the spiritual voice of the clan…now you wear it to represent the Tayrangi as the future Olo'eykte and Tsakarem" as if the memory of Ney'nari were hurting her, in fact she never spoke of her.

"Me? Tsahik? I was so rebellious and unmanageable, how could she think I would be a good spiritual guide?" You said laughing bitterly at the memory. Ironic how even your clothes reminded you of your sister, it seemed like she was doing everything to remind you of that Tsaheylu argument.

"You were, but she said that your soul was deeply connected to Eywa, even if you didn’t participate in the rites, you ran into the forest or the sea and connected to the native animals. She convinced me that you would become a great Tsahik, but look at you here… My little girl will be Olo'eykte" She caressed your face gently, and glimpsed in your eyes a bit of the spiritual essence of Ney'nari, making her smile. "Now go, you’re already late and I still have to get ready." she said before she left you. You knew she was about to cry over Ney'nari’s memories and you left her alone, knowing she didn’t like to be seen in moments of fragility like that.

The dress felt like it was giving you warmth and strength, so you thought your request last night had been answered this way, 'a protection for the heart if I had seen Neteyam'. Now you were going to see it and you were squeezing into those fabrics that let you wear your sister’s warm embrace.

When you arrived at the Sullys' house, Neytiri greeted you with a kind hug, and then formally greeted you. She was charming, her clothes worthy of a Tsakarem, colorful and refined, while her body presented some paint marks that recalled the colors of the Omatikaya clan.

"Ma yawntutsyìp, you are wonderful. It seems that you have already taken your mother’s place" Neytiri’s gentle hands caressed your face, touch and sweet and warm.

"You are wonderful too, ma Tsakarem," you laughed slightly, noticing how her gaze fell on yours, reminding you that she wanted to be called by her name. "Ma Neytiri" this time she smiled, then called Tuktirey.

The little girl showed up with a deep bowl that contained white paint, mother and daughter accompanied you to Neteyam who was a bundle of nerves inside his tent. He stood with his back as his hands leaned on what appeared to be a table or shelf with some clothes on it that he should wear. Your hands trembled, just to see him from behind was taking your breath away

"Ma'itan, it’s time to get ready…" Neytiri politely said, as she had Tuk put the bowl on one of the furniture that were there, and then sent her to Jake to get ready. Neteyam turned around, ready to respond negatively to his mother, but remained silent when he saw you, enchanted.

Time seemed to slow, and your looks met, remaining enchanted by each other, it seemed like a lifetime ago since you saw those eyes for the last time. His eyes held a veil of sadness but there was something that made you realize that he was happy to see you but also sorry for something. Neytiri smiled as you reacted in that way, then quietly disappeared, leaving you two alone.

A thrill of excitement passed through your body. Your heart was beating faster and faster, as the butterflies in your stomach took flight creating a strange dance. You had the feeling that everything around you was fading, focusing only on him. As if the rest of Pandora is dissolving, leaving you two alone in an aura of magic and old promises.

The words got lost in your throat as you tried to breathe, to remember how to move and walk. Your senses are sharp, every detail of his face, his way of looking at you and moving seemed to have been eternally etched in your memory. His presence resonates within you, a sweet melody that makes every fiber of your being vibrate.

Your legs trembled as you approached him slowly, then carried a hand on your forehead and pointed out to greet him formally; the words intertwined in your mind as you tried to follow the plan you had studied so as not to fall back into his sweet trap.

"Sit down…" you whispered as you took the bowl that Tuk had left. Neteyam sat down and looked at you with so much adoration and nostalgia that for a second you almost thought that everything was back to the way it was. You felt a sense of déjà-vu as you sat in front of him, reminding you of the first time they had forced you to draw on his body for that distant holiday.

"You’re gorgeous…" Neteyam whispered in love, voicing his thoughts, watching you shuffle the paint inside the bowl with your fingers. At that moment all your defenses were dissolved, leaving room for a sense of vulnerability that overwhelmed you brutally. You felt like he opened a door in your heart, allowing all emotions to flow without restriction.

"Your partner is gorgeous." Your tone was slightly sad as you took the paint to begin the tribal blessing designs. The chemistry between you was palpable, and the mere encounter of looks seems to encompass a universe of meanings, which led you to look away from his cursed eyes.

"It doesn’t matter… It’s not her I’m looking at" he said without looking away from your face, while you drew the first line on his chest, feeling your fingers burning on him. At his words, you raised your eyes to meet his, for a moment you thought that nothing had changed and that you were still the same people who until a few months ago were kissing secretly in a shed, exchanging promises and talking about the future.

"You’ll see her soon, she’s very beautiful today, I saw her…" Your voice was nostalgic, you missed him so much. But talking about her was like eating a great dish, knowing it’d been poisoned.

"How are you?" he asked gently, changing the subject. His tone of voice was also evident in his nostalgia. He thought he was dreaming and that this was just a beautiful dream, shuddering at every touch accompanied by paint.

"Well, I'm fine… I’m preparing to become Olo'eykte and Tsahik… I’ll mate with Tul pey in four moons…" Your fingers did not stop working lines on his chest and shoulders, noticing with the corner of your eye his sad expression.

"Four moons…" he whispered, with disbelief and sadness "I-I’m glad you’re fine, ma Tanhi," you raised your face to hear that nickname you missed so much. Your eyes moved from his lips to his eyes, feeling that urge to kiss him and feel him again as yours.

"what about you? How are you?" Your voice was dying in your throat, you were kind of hoping he was sick today, just because he was gonna mate with Reyin'al.

"Nervous, I never thought I’d be here, on a day like this, to mate a woman I don’t feel like my own" he laughed nervously. "…It’s just… weird, that’s all."

You smiled softly at him, albeit with a slight tone of sadness, understanding where he was going. Your eyes passed through his entire body, following your fingers that traced lines and points on his torso and neck.

"Everything will be all right, the Great Mother looks up at you and protects you, ma 'Teyam" his face came up to yours and you felt his heart pounding wildly. Neteyam’s heart was beating faster and faster, He missed you so much, and he missed hearing you call him that.

"I would like the Great Mother to watch over me to follow this path with another woman." He sighed as his eyes pointed to your lips, "You… you don’t know how much I wanted to tell you before… That I’m sorry, for everything, Ma Tanhi. I-I swear. I should have told you about her, I was an skxawng"

A wave of heat enveloped you at those words, as your stomach filled with frantic butterflies dancing in a disorganized manner. Every breath became deeper and more difficult, as if just looking at him left you breathless. Your cheeks faded with a slight blush, while your thoughts falter between enthusiasm and uncertainty. A sweet and sudden feeling of lightness pervaded you, as if the chains of worry were melting.

The look you exchanged was full of contrasting emotions: passion and desire are intertwined with nostalgia and sadness of lost time. The air charged with an electrical voltage, a palpable energy that enveloped both of us after all that time. You could feel the presence of each other, the heat emanating from your bodies, as if there was an irresistible call that united you two. Your eyes attract like magnets, you peer each other, looking for clues and signs that confirm that everything you have shared in the past can still exist.

Each line of your faces bears the marks of the experiences you had experienced, but the sparks in your eyes reveal that the feelings you felt were still alive and present. The romantic tension and the weight of time spent were felt. Doubts and fears crept into your heart, like a cold wind caressing the flames. Old pains and past disappointments are scars that cannot be ignored. And so, in the midst of this dance of desire, you stood there, staring at his lips intensely, breathing suspended, while he did the same.

"I have to finish…" You said to then lay clean fingers on his chest, making him sit normally, while you continued to create drawings.

He looked at you enchanted, hoping that you understood how much he still craved you, not only carnally, he wanted all of you.

Your fingers began to draw lines and curves on his face, trying to resist the temptation to still taste his lips, and it was difficult because of his strong and sweet scent, but also because of the way his eyes burned with love on you.

The fear of suffering again, of putting at risk what was rebuilt after the separation, holds back your deepest instincts, you couldn’t give in right now.

"I missed you, ma Tanhi. Every night, every day, I missed you so much." He whispered, noticing the little distance between you, the tension became heavier and harder for both of you.

"Neteyam… you are going to make Tsaheylu with Reyin'al…" your fingers passed over his lips, making the last lines of the tribal blessing design.

"I don’t want Reyin'al" he said, brushing your fingers with his hand, smearing himself with paint while he couldn’t look away from you.

Before you could answer, Mo'at entered the room, and you instinctively walked away not to raise any suspicions.

"ma parultysip, are you finished?" asked old Tsakik, looking at you, and then smiling when you nodded.

"Yes, ma Tsahik." You stood up from the ground without looking at Neteyam, as you approached Tsahik to greet her formally. The woman puts a hand on your shoulder and dismisses you. For a second, before you left, you turned and your eyes met those of Neteyam who did not miss a single movement of yours.

A whirlwind of emotions erupted within you as memories of past love re-emerge in your mind. A mixture of happiness, excitement, and fear spreads through your body, making it difficult to control the visceral reactions that overwhelmed you. You sighed thinking how stupid you were, it was so clear you wanted him and you didn’t know if Neteyam really wanted you or was just playing.

Acquitted in your thoughts you clashed with Kiri, who held you from your arms to keep you from falling. "Hey. Y/n, but where’s your mind?" she asked, looking at you, checking if you were okay.

"Oh, I’m sorry, I’m just distracted." You said you’d pull yourself together and look at the girls in front of you.

"The ceremony starts soon, I know you don’t want to… but we have to go, it’s the other way. Follow me" Kiri took your hand and led you to the opposite side of the village, meeting again Neteyam who was to go with Mo'at from the opposite side to yours, he was dressed in traditional clothes that the Olo'eyktan wore before being recognized as such. You passed by, but your hands searched silently, stretching some fingers, as if they were attracted by a magnetic force, barely touched each other. You two felt the contact, light but full of meaning, that triggers electric shocks along the skin. It is as if an inner fire is burning within you, fueled by the memories of the past and the awareness that this moment could be the beginning of something new. And then let you go, you drag by Kiri and him to his grandmother.

When you arrived at the sacred place where all the clan and guests had already gathered, you sat in the second row, along with Kiri and Lo'ak, already seeing Reyin'al standing in front of the Tree of Souls. She looked at you defiantly, with the same eyes of those who were winning both the war and the battle, seeing you so close to the tree made her happy, because you would see that Neteyam had chosen her.

When Neteyam reached her you felt a squeeze in your heart and Lo'ak offered you his hand to shake if you needed it, remaining silent and respecting your pain. Every word of the Tsaheylu rite stabbed you in the heart, and with it you shook Lo'ak’s hand ever stronger.

"Oel ngati kameye, ma Neteyam," Reyin'al said as she took her braid very theatrically, glancing at you to make sure you saw it.

Neteyam remained silent for a few seconds, feeling the pressure on him and the look of Jake burning on his skin, hoping that he would do nothing foolish, while Neytiri hoped that her baby would become a man and follow his heart.

Neytiri understood that you and Neteyam had something similar to what she and Jake had had, she understood that since she first saw you together. In fact, she sent Lo'ak instead of Tsutey to check where you and Neteyam ended up that night in the shed.

A mother feels and understands her children even before they understand each other, so in the months when he had returned home, she did everything to help him and encourage him to follow his heart. After all, she was the one who raised her kids by telling them about her love story with Jake Sully.

Neytiri was shaking Jake’s hand while mentally encouraging his first son to make the right choice, and was slightly disappointed when she saw Neteyam take his braid. She was waiting for him to put it back, and then she saw you on the other side. You shook Lo'ak’s hand, grieving, while Kiri gently scratched your back.

Seen from the outside, no one would ever suspect that you were suffering, after all you were rigid and composed, but those little details didn’t escape her.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Notes II:

This is officially the penultimate chapter, it tears my heart. Anyway, I’m trying not to hate Reyin'al, but I can’t </3

-Mel

(I’m in love with this picture, okay? Okay.)

[jellyleggz]

"best friend" | kim seungmin

genre: arranged marriage au, angst + a dash of fluff, hurt/comfort

warning(s): mention of death, grief

word count: 698

...

Something about the downpour further deepens the grief you’ve been holding in your heart. After your nana passed away, the grief kept on growing and growing like a vicious avalanche with each passing day.The casket had been lowered and it was your turn to drop a white rose on it. It was her favorite. You remember all those times she would trim away the thorns and pluck out the pointy leaves just so she can tuck it in behind your ear. Oh how cruel it is how beautiful times disappear. 

Your legs felt heavy, almost as if they were hesitating for you to say a one last goodbye to your grandmother. But you had to stay strong. You have to do it for nana to honor her.

It was brief yet such a small moment seemed so long. Your white rose drops on top of the other white roses. As you were observing it, it seemed like it was falling in slow motion. Others went back to the crowd but you were stunned at your place. You can’t help but start crying in the rain. Tears were commingling along with rain droplets on your face. Your black dress was starting to soak. The wail you let out was just heartbreaking. Everyone knew how you were very close to your grandmother.

The rain somehow stopped pouring on you. A familiar presence next to you holds an umbrella, protecting both of you from the downpour. You looked to see who it was and it was your husband.

Seungmin’s heart broke, seeing how devastated you looked. He took out a handkerchief in his pocket and he gently wiped away your tears and the rain off your face. He takes your hand, and guides you away from the people.

He lets you wail. He lets you cry on his shoulders. He lets you let out the pain and heartache you’ve been feeling. Being your husband and close confidant, he never judges you for whatever it is that you feel. That’s something you were always grateful for from him.

Seungmin lets you take your time. You both left early and now you have reached your home.

“I think you should take a sh—”

And suddenly, you gave him the biggest hug yet. “Thank you Min. I really can’t thank you enough for today.”

He chuckles a little. “Don’t worry about it. We’re a team, remember?”

You nod, feeling warm inside. Not just because of your hidden feelings for him but just how much he cares for you. You couldn’t imagine being married to anyone else despite his heart belonging to someone else. 

“You know what, instead of a shower, I’m just gonna prepare you a hot bath instead. Would that be alright?”

“Yes of course. Thank you best friend.”

“Best friend? That’s new. I sure hope Hyunjin is not gonna kill me when he finds out you have a new best friend,” he jokes.

Seungmin noticed you haven’t had a good laugh for a while until this moment. Your tummy was aching and you were letting out tears of joy rather than tears of grief. He always finds a way to cheer you up in the simplest things. “There’s nothing wrong with having two best friends, Minnie.”

He laughs along, holding your hands to warm them up. “Okay okay. Now let me get your bath ready. I’ll be back in a bit. Alright?”

“Alright.”

“And Y/N.”

“Hmm?”

“I’m here for you okay. You’re not alone.”

Seungmin then heads upstairs to the master bathroom. You’re thankful to have such a caring husband even if he wasn’t in love with you. Even if he was already happy and in love with someone else. It’s alright.

No matter how much you push away your feelings for him, you can’t help but admit that you are deeply smitten by him. Not wanting to jeopardize your arrangement, you’d rather swallow your pride and feelings deep inside the thoughts that Seungmin won’t be able to find and explore.

It’s alright. It’s okay. What matters to you is keeping your bond with him for as long as you can. Even if it may be selfish on your part.

...

A/N: Hello! Man I wasn't able to get some stuff out over break and now it's back to school. Hopefully can still post some stories despite my busy schedule. There is a high likeliness that this drabble will be turned into a full fic :D

[depressedbagpipe]

about liam payne

let me preface this by saying i never thought i’d be writing a “statement” at the ripe age of 23. as a disclaimer, i do not condone his abusive actions and find them incredibly disgusting and immoral, but i’d also be lying if i said i don’t have conflicting emotions right now. this is me trying to explore them. 

i don’t think i’ve ever stated this before, but one direction made me the person i am today. those five lads were one of my main pillars during my adolescent life. they became my main motivation to pay attention during my english classes at school, and thanks to that i’m now building my career out of my second language. i got into fanfiction, discovering a safe space for me to destress and interact with other fans –not knowing i’d be 21 one day and writing crappy ben barnes stories that people would seemingly love, yet again motivating me to make my life-long dream of becoming an author another reality–. i logged into twitter for the first time and essentially made it my whole personality, finding a whole new world of entertainment where i could bond with anybody around the globe. but, most importantly, i met my former best friend, whom i have had the most amazing adventures with as we both grew up with the boys. 

one direction was my haven i came back to every day. i had to endure all types of comments from society, calling me crazy, obsessed, and childish. everybody made fun of directioners for being fangirls, and made fun of the guys too, as if they weren’t real musicians. i had to hide my directioner badge more than once because i knew i wouldn’t be taken seriously if i showed my true colors. experiencing those levels of misogyny at such young age would’ve been devastating had i not had them singing about how much they loved us. sure, the relationship was entirely parasocial and borderline problematic at times (remember that time some girls hacked the airport security just to see the guys through their screens?), yet, for a twelve-year-old who had no power in her own life, that was the safest net she could’ve gotten. 

their hiatus hit hard, because we weren’t ready to say goodbye yet. how do you move on from a band that has become one of your safety pins, that held you when nobody else did? deep down, i hoped they’d come back. we never got any closure, after all. one direction first cracked the day zayn left, but now, it has shattered completely. 

learning about liam’s past was tough. how could someone you admired for so long do such terrible things? i wanted to find solace in the fact that he was no longer the person he shared the stage with harry, louis, niall and zayn. i really wanted to separate the art from the artist, but i couldn’t. i even resented being a fan and supporting such a person in the past, but now, he’s officially gone. his victims won’t get any closure, and the culprits of leading such a young person towards his own hell won’t get justice either. it just isn’t fair.

grief is a funny thing, though. we’re all mourning someone he wasn’t for almost a decade. we’re grieving our childhoods and adolescence. we weep, because what once was, won’t be anymore. we lament the man he became, and all the pain he caused. yet all i can think about now is that 11-year-old who listened to ‘what makes you beautiful’ for the first time. that little girl who fought in the trenches to be heard and respected, and was instead ridiculed and shamed. she’s the one grieving. and i don’t know what to do anymore to protect her, and i wish i could.

[neteyamsilly]

STOP BC THIS PART HAD ME BAWLING MY EYES OUT ((btw i am the anon who did this ask:

https://at.tumblr.com/neteyamsilly/tbh-i-read-pt-3-and-just-started-crying-like-holy/vbqp1w0sq1md

and if you are wondering if i am going to be doing more analysis why yes, yes i am 🫠))

FIRST OF ALL,, how dare you?? how dare you put this happy childhood scene in the very beginning and show how reader is basically his favourite and he loves her and then immediately go to the angst of her actually bleeding out DYING? that actually hurt my feelings even more?? why would you lull me into a false sense of security like that???

ALSO, I love how you had neteyam being the first to jump in and help, as well as wanting to stay by the tent to wait to hear the news about her. Like, yes she is his younger sister but he is her only older brother. As a fellow second born child this bond is just *chefs kiss* bc while the two of them take care of the others, NETEYAM is the only one of her siblings that SHE specifically turns to for comfort and help, and him in turn since they understand each other as the eldest two.

I also somehow cried even harder at the mention of Stxel’eveng bc?? Neytiri she loves her daughter and would do anything for her, but even mentioning Stxel’eveng shows how -- to protect her daughter and make sure she is happy moving forward -- neytiri is willing to let her child go. and when she says she cannot bear the shame i really thought it was just about the gifting, but i think moreso it is Jake's actions towards their children driving this decision, which leads to the horrifying thought of "if tsahik doesn't think us worthy of this child, what about our others"

AND I SAW THAT YOU ADDED TORUK'S COLORS TO HER IKRAN AND YOUR POST ABOUT IT AND I RAISE YOU THIS: While yes she was trying to emulate her father and be anything close to his greatness to get him to See her, he was also the last thing she heard, while she tried to search out the one accomplishment she wanted him to be proud of :D

Also the fact that you are having Jake be the one to try and convince her to come back? This part isn't an analysis but I imagine Neytiri as her face crumples, then her ears fall back against her head and she is so sad and sounds so broken when she goes "she will not want to"

and when Jake does finally manage to go see her at the tree of souls, she is at the stream where their family spent so many days -- and she is a child again, so small as she plays on the banks of the water. He crouches next to her and she looks up to him and smiles, but when he asks her to come home her smile drops. In the blink of an eye she is back to her true age. She is standing now, facing him off, hands clenched at her sides and chin jutted out in defiance. She is trying to look big but she is still a child, not as young but still so small and barely taller than him in this position as he tries to reach for her. But she backs away from him, stepping into the water and continuing until she is smack dab in the middle of the stream. and she asks him, her face stony but her voice trembling, "Why?"

anywho that's all i have to say about the new chapter!! Amazing amazing work as always babes 🫶🏻

WELCOME BACK WITH EVEN MORE HURT HHHHHHHHH anon what do i call you 😭😭😭😭

how dare i: ITS WHAT I DOOOOOOOOOO otherwise why would you be reading, right??? BHSDBSHDSB

Also like. that part about neteyam being her ONLY big brother. that kind of hurted because???? and it's so sad because she acts like a big sister to him, spoiling him and everything its HSDSHSBSHDS GOODBYE why did i hurt this boy EVEN MORE in a fic.

also like NEYTIRI'S MOTHERHOOD MAN thank you for saying that AHHHHH she's just. honor is involved in this and her pride has been broken too, she doesn't just put it all on jake. like imagine making your wounded child walk for half an hour. ur side by side. and she's bleeding out right under your nose and nobody notices. that shit would be TRAUMATIZING. She blames herself so much too:(

ALSO I WANT TO TELL YOU YOU PREDICTED THE CHILD-NORMAL SWITCH SBDHSBDH It's not as tense and angry, but it's there!

THANK YOU FOR THIS LOVELY ASK AHHHHH

[sapphiredhearts-a]

wanted plots by muse pt 2 . if you would like to explore a plot mentioned here please like this post and let me know which plot you would like to explore by the muse it is with . these are first come , first serve as I don't want to do the same plot multiple ways for now . please also stick to one different plot per muse of yours . this may change later but I want to give everyone I write with a fair chance for different stuff !

loosely based on the notebook . noah calhoun is a simple country boy . a good man with a big heart but without much else to his name . he is fine with his status in life and if all he can ever do is buy a house for his father to live in with him then he is fine . until he meets a girl one summer . she is visiting town with her family from new york - her very wealthy family who very obviously does not approve of a man like him . still , the two fall deep into love and spend the entire summer together . until one day he wakes up and goes to her house to find the place empty . someone in town says they simply left and if she didn't say goodbye she probably didn't care about him . as a hopeless romantic , noah writes letters - every day for a year - but nothing ever comes of it . instead , he moves on with his life going into the army and building the house he always wanted . he never marries but he's content enough - until he sees her again at his father's funeral .

jake jagielski has been a single father since his high school girlfriend got pregnant and abandoned him and his daughter , jenny . he has made ends meet pretty well and has just moved to a new town where he can attend college courses while working as a waiter . while there he meets a girl who he quickly becomes friends with . she is a natural with jenny and often babysits for him . slowly the two become closer than ever - but he still has scars from his past and isn't sure what exactly he wants - especially with nikki in and out of his life so often .

loosely based on the host - if you aren't familiar with the book we will need to discuss major plot points of the universe . jared howe has been on the run since the aliens came and took over human bodies . he is terrified of losing his mind and spirit and flits from town to town without ever really settling down . that is until he stumbles upon jed's caves - an underground settlement with more humans than jared knew still existed . he falls easily into his role there and works hard - even going on raids for supplies . but he is still very guarded and rough , not making friends . that is until he meets your muse .

loosely based on the host - if you aren't familiar with the book we will need to discuss major plot points of the universe . sunny has been living in jed's caves since she was brought here by the first soul ( alien ) to ever make it in a human settlement . her body's ex - fiancée had brought her here in hopes to remove her from the body and send her off into the universe while he got his love back . she was afraid at the time but willing to help - until they found out that the old mind would not come back with her gone . as unfortunate as it was the humans still accepted her for the most part and she spends her days quietly trying to earn her keep . until a new human joins the fold . they are rough and traumatized from things nobody knows about and weirdly - they seem to take to sunny , seeming to want to protect her . happy to have a new friend she begins to bond with them - but can the past horrors they have faced at the hands of the souls be erased ?

loosely based on the hunger games universe - but au . peeta mellark has lost everything . his sanity and the girl he did it all for . katniss everdeen was executed in front of everyone of panem on a live broadcast after district 13 was infiltrated and taken down before the revolution could begin . peeta had been tortured and brainwashed but without being needed any longer he was sent back to district twelve to await the next hunger games - sure to be a doozy . does he meet your muse as a fellow mentor ( he is the last one left in twelve - haymitch having died in the battle that followed as did a lot of the other victors who made it out and supported 13 ) ? or do they meet when your muse is a tribute ? we can expand on this as we go .

loosely based on the hunger games universe - but au . finnick odair is the capitol's golden boy . having won the games young he has enjoyed everything the capitol has to offer since . but nobody knows how much he truly suffers . I just want to write finnick - so perhaps he meets your muse in district four and we do an annie type thing ? or maybe your muse lives in district four and has never been in the games ? maybe they get reaped ? maybe they're old friends ? maybe they're from the capitol and meet there ? so many options . I'm down to explore this plot with more than one blog since there are so many different avenues .

[bloodxhound]

REYNOLDS.

While seemingly a coincidence at the surface, in hindsight, it makes sense- Detective Barlowe and Mana being…friends of sorts. They even have similar demeanors- sharp claws to protect themselves. Even if she did soften over the years, letting her edges get a little rounder, she never let her guard down completely. And Calum wouldn’t have wanted her to- there’s a difference between trimming a claw and declawing all together. Detective Barlowe is just the same. Rough edges around a softer inside. 

But is that why Detective Barlowe went through the extra hassle during that case? How long did he know? And if for a while, then why didn’t Calum see him at her funeral- he cringes, eyes averting to her gravestone. This is not the place to be thinking of such questions, even if timing never seems to be his specialty. It feels wrong, somehow too, asking when she’s right there. “…If she were watching, she’d be scolding us, right now. It would…probably be something like ‘what are you doing here, don’t you have anything better to do with your time?’” He chuckles, albeit mirthlessly. Is that the version of his wife, Detective Barlowe knows? It feels wrong to ask, even if Detective Barlowe seems to be someone who, well, knew her.

( Oh yes, she’s had other friends, but it’s the first time he’s met someone from her social circle exclusively. And she was never one to merely tolerate another person’s company for sake of social conventions. )

Calum nods, still staring at the tombstone. There are a lot of things Calum hopes for her in the afterlife- like if she’ll finally be able to eat everything she’s ever wanted like Detective Barlowe hopes or if she’ll finally be able to read all the books to her heart’s content from now on. “She’ll still be eating jello even if there were other options.” And then there are more selfish things he’ll never say he hopes for her- like how he hopes she’ll finally be able to set the ghosts of her past to rest now. Or how he hopes her death was a quick and painless one. “I’m her husband.” He retorts, albeit half-heartedly. “She has to say something about me.” And then he sighs. “She didn’t say anything about you, but…if you’re visiting then I’ll…I’ll believe that you two were good friends.”

“…If you’re worried about me crying, I’m not going to.” He promised himself he wouldn’t for her, not anymore.

       A corner of his lips lifts with a touch of humor, of relief, even in a desolate place like this. He can so very clearly see Mana in Reynolds’ imitation. She comes to life for a moment, speaking through his mouth as if her ghost had possessed him. Ray’s eyes soften with a fondness that isn’t intended for the other man, but not kept a secret from him either. What he wouldn’t give for one last word with her, a proper goodbye. Death is such a miserable affair. Although he knows one who deals with its trappings on the daily has no business lamenting. Mana would agree, he thinks.   “Yes, that’s her, alright,”   comes his response.   “Some things can’t be helped though. We need to deal with our loss in our own ways.”   As for him, he’s still reeling.

          The sun stands at its zenith, flooding the graveyard with light, with warmth. All is quiet when Ray nods in affirmation. Theirs was a special bond. Other people may never understand the nature of their friendship. They may even deny their claim to it. But despite the distance, despite the little time they had been granted, something invaluable had blossomed between them. Something that was born from an alikeness, a strange sort of kinship. Silence strangles him. Words seem impossible, superfluous. Anything he could say in reply would be too much, too little. His chest is thrumming with pent up feelings, but he isn’t willing to part with them. Instead of sentiment, he indulges the other with an explanation. Something needs to fill the silence, her absence.   “We met at the library, seven years ago. Used t’do my studyin’ there, back when I was goin’ through Police Academy.”   His gaze lowers to the flower bouquet on the ground.   “She was pretty, but always so serious. First time we talked was when she gave me an earful ‘bout how I mistreated my books. Not the library ones, my own. Didn’t like all the dogears.”

          Somberly, he regards the other man.   “It’s a graveyard. Wouldn’t fault you if you did.”   He stuffs his hands inside the pockets of his jacket.   “’Sides, I always got a pack of tissues on me anyway,”   he reassures regardless. It bridges gaps when kind, comforting words fail him. Just as it did during Reynolds’ interrogation.   “Can I, uh... Can I ask how she died?”

[sillyrabbit81]

The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood - Part 2

Series Summary: Lori "Babycakes" Tate swore she would never date a biker but when her life is in danger, she is put under the protection of a small club known as The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood. She suddenly finds herself attracted to not one, but five bikers.

A reverse harem, biker AU.

Part Two Summary: Syverson helps Lori pack for her trip and he struggles keeping his attraction in check. Sy (POV)

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC, Walter Marshall x OFC, Mike x OFC, Geralt x OFC, August Walker x OFC

Word Count: Approx. 3.5k

Series Warnings: Reverse harem, age gap (OFC 23, ages range from 23 to mid 40s), oral sex (male and female receiving), unprotected p in v sex, anal sex, group sex, masturbation, praise kink, mentions of body fluids, drug use, recreational drinking, sex work, criminal activities, mention of death, violence, use of weapons, mentions of war, mentions of abuse, angst, fluff, probably a lot more that I will add as they come up.

Part Two Warnings: Syverson thirsting hard over Lori, implied smut and smutty thoughts, age gap, cigarette smoking, brief mention of death, angst, and sass.

Authors Note: Thanks to everyone who read, commented or reblogged Part One. It was really lovely to read such lovely things! I really hope you continue to enjoy the story.

My aim is to post a new part every Wednesday evening (my time). Thats the plan anyway!

Thanks heaps to @nashibirne for her quick beta read. You're the sweetest Possum ever.

Divider made by me. Edited by me, there will be errors.

Masterlist

Parts Masterlist

Part One Part Three

Syverson

“Take care of yourself, Babycakes.” 

The old biker was wrapping his arms around Lori. She held him tight and her reply was muffled, but I saw him chuckle as he kissed her cheek in a manner that made me think of a father saying goodbye to his daughter. The contrasting ways that she farewelled her brother and Hustle was stark. 

The short dossier that Walker had written up for the girl obviously mentioned her close ties to the club; her father being the founding president and her brother taking over. However, it was surprising that her bonds were so strong considering she had barely had contact with them since she went to college. Although she returned to her hometown, she had appeared to have kept her distance from the brief that had been prepared.

She was obviously not as close to her brother as she was to Hustle. Although I shouldn’t, I wondered why. It shouldn’t matter to me; her familial relationships had no bearing on my mission set, but I found myself wanting to ask her.

I found myself wanting to know a lot about her. Too much. And I wasn’t the only one. 

After she waved goodbye to her ride, she turned to me with folded arms and an appraising look. Her eyes ran over me from head to toe, quickly like she had in her brother's office, but still intently.

I bit my tongue. Man, did I want to say something, make a quick jab or flirtatious remark, but I had to at least appear professional. So, I stood there with my arms folded across my chest in a mirror of her stance and let her look at me until she nodded.

“Do I have your approval?” I asked. Shit. I can’t keep my damn mouth shut.

The corner of her mouth twitched before she shrugged and I followed her with a smirk as she made her way through her apartment building's door and into the elevator.

She didn’t look directly at me again, but I felt her eyes on me as we rode the elevator to her floor. It was the first time I had seen her up close and she was even prettier than I thought. Her clear fair skin, her strong, rosey cheeks and the smattering of light freckles on her soft dainty nose, made her youth much more obvious too. 

She wasn’t completely innocent or naive despite her 23 years; that much was plain by the way she acted and spoke to her brother and Hustle. She had seemed reserved at the funeral, crying softly as her brother laid a seemingly hesitant arm around her. But in Hooks’s office, she showed smarts and backbone, standing up for herself without throwing a tantrum when she realised the seriousness of the situation regardless of her obvious feelings about being sent away. 

The air in the cab was full of her perfume, sweet like fresh citrus or something, and it was making my fucking mouth water. She only lived on the second floor, but it felt like forever as I got lost in watching her tongue dart out and wet her plump lips.

She moved slightly and I made good use of my peripheral vision to see her slide a stockinged foot out of her black heels and use it to rub the back of her calf. Holy shit. It had to be one of the single most erotic fucking things I had seen in my life.

“Your leg sore?” I asked in a voice so husky I almost didn’t recognise it as my own.

Lori looked at me confused as if she didn’t know what I was talking about. Maybe she didn’t, which made the moment feel even more salacious, as if I had just witnessed an intimate moment I wasn’t supposed to see.

I had to get out of this fucking elevator before I said something highly unprofessional.

“You were rubbin’ your leg.” Feigning disinterest, I waved a hand towards her feet that were now back in her shoes.

Her face smoothed out. “I don’t wear heels often.” 

The elevator dinged and I held my arm out, gesturing for her to go first. She put her head down and walked along the hall, stopping at the second door.

“You should,” I said, leaning my shoulder against the wall while she got her key out, “They look good on you.”

Yep. Real professional.

She paused and turned eyes on me that were so light blue they almost looked grey. She seemed unsure how to take what I’d said so I gave her a small smile. She stared back at me, holding my gaze for a few beats before she arched an eyebrow and opened the door to her apartment. 

“I’ll be sure to pack some then,” she said, only a little sarcastically.

I chuckled as I followed her through the apartment and into her bedroom. It was small but neat and bright. She had nice furniture, a lot of little kitschy shit on her shelves and books on her nightstand. 

I held out a small bag that would fit in my aftermarket saddlebags. “Only pack what ya need for three days, that’s it. If ya need more stuff when we get to the Clubhouse, you can buy it in town.”

“I’m not made of money, Syverson,” Lori said, crossing her arms and leaning on one leg. “I can’t afford to just buy new things whenever I feel like it.”

I had to hold back a grin; it was rare when a woman wasn’t scared of me these days and I’ve got to admit, I enjoyed her attitude and the way her cute face looked when she got sassy.

Be professional.

“Your brother can. He’s agreed to pay for everythin’.” 

“Part of the contract?”

“Yes. He pays all your expenses.”

“I can’t believe he did all this without telling me.” She threw her arms up in the air. A little dramatic, but still adorable. 

“He’s just lookin’ out for ya, sugar,” I told her, “Like a big brother should.”

“He’s overreacting.” She snatched the pack out of my hand and went to a drawer, stuffing what looked like panties in the bag.

“He ain’t,” I told her solemnly.

Lori’s head whipped around fast, and she looked at me a little wild-eyed. I didn’t want to scare her, but I had to reinforce the seriousness of her situation.

“We do an assessment before we take on a case. There’s a definite threat. If there weren’t, we wouldn’t relocate you.”

“Is Nate going to be ok?” Her voice was small and she stared into the bag. 

Her question wasn’t expected. Most girls would ask about themselves, check their own safety, but she was more worried about her brother.

“He’ll have a better chance if he ain’t gotta worry ‘bout you,” I said bluntly. 

She wasn’t the first woman the Brothers had to protect, though she sure was the prettiest, and I found when it comes to women, there was no point in trying to sugar-coat the situation. They’re more likely to be pliable if they think that there is a real threat. In Lori’s case, I told her the truth because if she thinks staying away will help, then she’ll cooperate. At least that's what I hoped. I didn’t want her to try and do a runner on me. 

“Do you know who killed them?”

I almost asked her who they were. Fuck. Not only was I being unprofessional, I was also being an asshole. No wonder she’s so worried about her brother, she buried both her parents today. 

I ain’t cut out for this. 

When we drew straws to see who would be the one to pick her up, I thought I could do this, but it should have been Marshall, he’s used to dealing with victims, crying women. Hell, even Geralt would have been a better option than me. The only one of us who would have been a worse choice was Mike, but Walker had already vetoed him as an option.

“That’s not part of what I do.” Only years of being an Officer in my former life kept my voice from being too empathetic.

She nodded and went to her closet, bringing out a couple of pairs of Kevlar jeans, t-shirts, a motorcycle jacket, helmet and gloves. It was good that she’d ridden before, I won’t have to worry about her fucking up my balance and shit. 

Not that she could really, she had to weigh half what I did. She wasn’t a petite girl, a little on the tall side, though I still towered over her. She had nice curves, a soft and nicely rounded ass, cute little titties too, nice and high on her chest. Watching her for the past week had given me a lot of opportunities to admire her feminine form so I knew what to expect but God damn, being so close to her was distracting. 

Fuck. She was looking at me. There was no way she couldn’t have seen me checking her out. Ah fuck it, I grinned at her; no point hiding it now.

“I’m going to get changed now,” Lori said with a blank face.

I could feel blood draining from my head and rushing south at the thought of her getting naked. I nodded and turned around, forcing myself to keep my eyes shut so I wouldn’t be tempted to peek.

Fuck professionalism; at this point I was struggling to be a God damn gentleman.

“I’d prefer if you left the room,” she said with a frustrated sigh.

I should leave. I could leave. It’s not like she was in danger here; I could stand outside the door and she’d be fine. 

“Sure,” I said. I glanced over my shoulder at her as I left her bedroom. “You’ve got five minutes.”

Lori rolled her eyes at me and I chuckled softly. I really fucking liked this girl. The Brothers were going to kill me.

I checked my phone while I waited and replied to a message from Walker, giving him our ETA. He immediately responded that he was already waiting about 5 klicks away at our planned rendezvous point.

After my blood had begun to circulate through my brain again, I figured maybe five minutes wasn't enough time for her to get changed and ready to leave. I watched the clock on my phone, letting nearly ten agonisingly slow minutes go by before I rapped on the door.

“You done in there?”

Lori opened the door. She was dressed with her jacket on and the pack slung over her shoulder like she was ready to leave.

I took it off her shoulder and going back into her room, laid it on the bed and started going through it.

“Checking for contraband? What are you? A cop?”

“No phones or electronics, Babycakes,” I said, smothering my laugh. I’d have to tell Marshall about that snarky comment, he’d get a kick out of it. 

“What?”

“They’re traceable,” I explained, pulling her phone out of her bag, turning it off and putting it on her nightstand.

“Fuck. Well, how do I speak to my friends?”

“You don't,” I said, flatly. “Sorry sugar, it's how we operate.”

“But I have a…” she paused and bit her lip, running her teeth over her lip a couple of times. “I have plans and I have to call my work. I can’t just not show up, that will cause problems.”

“Your brother will take care of contacting your work,” I told her. It was something he had already done, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. She was mad enough at him as it is.

Her brows furrowed, she opened her mouth to say something then slammed it shut.

“Okay,” she said a little sullenly. 

Her bottom lip went back between her teeth. She was thinking on something, but time pressed as we were, now was not the time to find out what it was. I filed it away as something to discover later.

I went back into her bag, checking she had packed for the weather. It got cold at night and we’d be riding for a long while so she would need some warmer clothes. I was glad I checked; she must be more rattled than she let on because she forgot half her shit. It wouldn’t be the first time I had to pack for a client, so I went to her closet and pulled out one of her thickest sweaters. 

“Will this fit under your leathers?” She nodded and I threw it to her. “Good. Put it on.” 

She grumbled a little under her breath, but shockingly she shucked off her jacket and put it on.

“Bras?” I asked, pointing to the draws she got her panties out of.

“What?”

“You didn’t pack bras,” I said, opening her drawer. I caught a glimpse of some pretty racy panties before she slammed it shut, nearly catching my fingers and using her hip to try to push me out of the way.

“I can do it,” she growled.

I grinned, held my arms up in surrender and backed away. Lori was not intimidated by me, but she was not completely unaffected. Her cheeks coloured a pretty pink hue as she selected a few simple bras and stuffed them into the bag. After seeing the panties she packed versus what she left behind, I was a little disappointed.

She went back to her draws and got out a set of light pyjamas, thin little cotton shorts and a tank top. I chuckled, she may as well sleep nude, they weren’t going to hide shit.

I checked that she had a toothbrush and other such items then zipped up the pack and slung it over my shoulder.

“We good to go?” I asked her.

She shrugged, “I guess.”

I smiled and put my arm out, “After you.”

I watched her leave a second. Her ass looked good in those black Kevlar jeans. Her thighs did too; shapely and thick, just the way I liked them. The way we all liked them, evidently.

After another agonising elevator ride, we got to my bike and she started to put her helmet on, but I stopped her.

“I wanna smoke first. Want one?” I asked. I reached into my jacket, pulled out a pack and slipped one between my teeth before offering her the packet. 

We’d only seen her smoke a couple of cigarettes while we had been tailing her, mostly late in the evening and while hiding from her brother. She hesitated only a moment before pulling one out. I flicked my Zippo open and lit her cigarette, watching a little too intently at the way her lips wrapped around it. 

“Thanks,” she mumbled.

I smiled at her before I lit my smoke. I started my Softail to let it warm up a bit and to give myself time to cool down before we got on the bike. The corners of my mouth kept threatening to break out in a grin at the thought of her arms wrapped around me and her body pressed against mine while we rode. I had to get that shit under control before we met with the Brothers.

I waited until she had finished smoking and took her butt and mine to the trash. When I turned back to her, she was pulling her smooth mahogany hair back into a low ponytail and the sweater she was wearing pulled tight across her chest. Her tits weren’t quite as small as I’d thought and when she put her jacket on, she had trouble zipping it up with the thick sweater underneath.

“Here, let me.”

I grabbed the hem of her sweater and tugged it down so it wasn’t wrinkled then brought the edges of her jacket close and joined the zipper tags. I caught a whiff of her perfume again and breathed in deeply, letting her fragrance permeate low into my lungs. I thought it was kiwi fruit or lime or something and it was driving me fucking crazy. 

Forcing myself to concentrate, I zipped her up. The jacket sat a little tight at her chest and I had to grab the edges and jerk them closer over her tits. She’s gonna think I’m a fucking creep. She ain’t wrong, it wasn’t like I wasn’t enjoying this but I still tried not to touch her more than necessary.

“Thanks, Syverson,” she said so softly I barely heard her over the bike. 

My eyes met hers and for a moment the world stopped. 

Fuck she was gorgeous with her big, clear greyish-blue eyes, pouty bee-stung lips, and right now her cheeks were adorably blushing. After watching her for a week and thinking about her all the time, it was almost unreal to have her so close. The way she was looking at me now was straight out of my fantasies and it took everything I had not to lift her mouth to mine and suck on that pretty bottom lip of hers.

“Call me Sy will ya, sugar?”

“Ok, um, Sy,” she said, a little shyly. She blushed harder, the reddening of her cheeks deepened and she sunk her teeth into that fucking plump lip. 

The smile I tried to hold back before broke through and I was done. Fuck my brothers are gonna beat my ass, but I was smitten. Walker will have his say too, but I’d bet him dollars to doughnuts, he’s gonna take one look at her and want her as bad as I fucking do. Hell, the rest of us are already half in love with her, he’s the only one who hasn’t seen her yet.

“My brothers will be meeting us a few klicks outside of town. They’ll be wearin’ their patches, so don’t be alarmed, alright?”

“How many?”

“Four more.”

“That’s your whole club? Why are you so small?”

“We’re very selective,” I said, simply. 

Lori nodded, accepting my half response. She knew an evasive answer when she heard one. It was nice talking to a girl who understood that there were some things you just didn’t talk about with civilians. 

“We’ll be goin’ all the way to Flagstaff tonight. It’ll take about four hours and we ain’t plannin’ on stoppin’. Think ya can make it?”

She nodded but looked a bit doubtful.

“Good girl,” I said and watched her bite her lip again. 

Fuck me. 

My hand moved to cup her jaw on its own, I couldn’t stop it. My thumb ran over her rounded lip until she let it slip from between her teeth. God damn, it felt so fucking soft and smooth, like a rose petal. I kept rubbing her reddened flesh then dragged my thumb down a little until her lip fell back into place, and I continued my path down her chin. I felt her warm, heavy breath on my hand, she was breathing as hard as I was.

Drawing on every bit of self-control I let her go. It wasn’t easy, and I clenched my fists, knowing I couldn’t delay leaving much longer. Not only because my brothers were waiting, but if we didn’t leave soon, we wouldn’t be able to blend in with the other clubs.

I grabbed her helmet. She put her arm out for it, but I took the gloves out from inside, tucked them under my arm and shook my head.

“Let me,” I said roughly, maybe a little too harshly, but I was on a knife’s edge. I pushed back any stray hairs off her forehead, taking my time, letting the backs of my fingers ghost over the soft skin of her cheeks.

“I know how to put a helmet on, Sy.”

There she goes saying my name again. The speed at which my cock was chubbing up was almost embarrassing.

“Humour me, Baby.” 

She nodded, slowly, her tongue darted out to wet her lips. I took another deep breath and slid the helmet over her head. I lifted her chin and slid the strap through the d-rings, watching her eyes trying to avoid mine. I chuffed, passing her gloves, and put my jacket on.

“Sidle up close to me. I run a little hot, might help keep ya warm, sugar.” 

I winked at her, knowing how stupid I looked when I did, and she laughed like I hoped she would. The sound went right through me, higher than her natural speaking tone, but somehow earthy and natural. It was infectious and sexy as fuck.

I got on the bike and gave it a few good revs. Jerking my head, I gestured that she should get on and she put her hands on my shoulders for support before stepping onto the footpeg and lifting her leg over the seat. I barely felt the suspension move as she sat, but you bet I felt her thighs pressing against mine and her hands timidly resting on my waist. That wouldn’t do, I grabbed her hands in mine, wrapping them around me and I felt her shimmy closer until her body was flush with mine. 

I hummed, that was more like it. 

For four more hours she was mine, then… well who knows. That would be up to her, but I damn well was going to do everything I could to keep her mine.

[a-tale-of-legends]

Okay one thing I wanted to touch upon yesterday was how I'm noticing that a lot of pokemon villains do what they do out of love. And when I say love I mean love towards something. I dunno if that explains it well but here me out:

Volo is the most recent case, he loves Hisui and wants to end it's suffering, leading him to do what he did.

Rose loves Galar ( also it's clear that Oleana loves Rose. Romantically? Platonically? Who cares, she loves him)

Lusamine, at least in usum, cared for Alola to try and protect it

Guzma freaking loves his crew and will protect them.

Lysandre loved Kalos and the world and thus was disgusted when it became "filthy"

Maxie and Archie, despite their differences, loved Hoenn and wanted to see it grow into what they thought was fit ( Archie wanted pokemon of the sea to have a better place to live, and vice versa with Maxie and humans)

N clearly loves pokemon and everything he has done was for them.

Hell, the team rocket executives in hgss/gsc loved their boss so much to try and get him back.

The only villains that don't really share this love are Ghetsis , Giovanni and Colress imo. Okay. Well. I think Giovanni does care for his grunts, but it's not what's motivating him, I mean.

Edit: So I've been given some points about Colress and Giovanni! Colress loves his science, which drives him to do a lot of questionable things. The reason why I didn't include him at first was because unlike the others science is....science. I really don't know how to explain it, but the love I had in mind was more... personal? Emotional? Though, again, when you really think about it, science is what drives Colress, so I guess I'll give it to him here.

I will fully admit that I don't see Giovanni's love for anything that influences what he does, with the exception of money and power. That being said, Giovanni in the games has shown to care for Silver in his goodbye, promising to come back when he can revive the team rocket. That ...never happened, but the thought at the moment was clear. Again, I really don't think Giovanni's love for his son was what caused him to build a team rocket. He wants to show his son the fruits from his endeavors, sure, but Silver being the motivation seems far fetched in my opinion ( also this is referring to Giovanni). This applies to Mewtwo ( I've always seen the two having more of a mutual agreement than a powerful friendship, though a bond is a bond). What motivates Giovanni that isn't money or power? It's not Silver ( I think) , so is it his team? Maybe! I don't know much about Giovanni, so please know all of this is pretty biased.

Edit #2: IMPORTANT I FORGOT CYRUS. Cyrus is very complicated. Cause compared to Volo, who effectively tried to do the same thing, Cyrus seems more inherently selfish with a destain for humanity, while Volo's seems more just and out of love. In a very very simplified way of saying it, Cyrus is a man who wants to be alone. Him wanting to erase the world of emotion is very much for himself and no one else. However, there's that conversation in Platinum that begins to put a crack in this. Cynthia rightfully says that Cyrus could just fuck off to who knows where and be alone. Cyrus refutes this, saying he can't leave the world in such a state with spirit and emotion. Let's be real here. Cyrus could have very well just isolated himself. But he didn't! Why? Because of humanity. I think this is him showing that he cares, even if it's very twisted and comes from a place of supposed hatred( or Cyrus would just say he feels nothing. Boy, if you really felt nothing, why are you doing this? Dork)

I also didn't mention SM Lusamine! Mainly because I don't have the game anymore ( I lost my cartridge:( ), so I was only going off the memory of her just. Being an asshole to her kids and being obsessed with the UB. Which is still present in USUM, but I didn't consider why she was obsessed with the UB. Mohn. Lusamine loves Mohn so much that it drives her insane. She latched onto the Ultra Beasts, the thing that was last is connected to her husband. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but this goal of finding her husband eventually got lost as she became more and more obsessed with the ultra beast. I could be wrong on that, but that's how I remember it. But I still think it counts because Lusamine's whole thing is "love" so to speak. A mother's love, love for your family, finding people that will "love" you, etc.

The only person who doesn't have any type of love is Ghetsis. He only cares about himself really, but that's not the theme I was going for here so. Yeah.

[hellogoodbye14]

(kjkjkkk I just saw a headcanon where Nyx is super protective of his parents, and then because Rhys is very attractive smp has gnt flirting with him and Nyx comes and says "hi >dad<, I just talked to my >mom <, she said she loves you" and then Rhys is ????? how cute)

I believe this is becoming a Nyx stan account based on my asks 😂

Here ya go lovely

Cassian couldn’t help but snicker at the disgruntled look on little Nyx’s face.

Rhys was at the bar of the restaurant settling the bill for the night. One of the Night Court residents had walked up to him and started chatting with him.

Nesta groaned at the sight.

“Ugh, not another one. What is with these folks gravitating and sighing at his very presence all the time.”

Cassian chuckled, Rhys was Rhys and he was often approached even when some people knew he was happily mated. What most people didn’t know is that Rhys was very uncomfortable about it but always shut it down politely. Little Nyx, who was super protective of his mother and fathers bond obviously did not know this.

As soon as the blonde haired fae landed a hand on Rhys’s arm, Nyx went running, well more like stumbling towards his father.

“Da! Da!”

Rhys turned around smiling. He leaned down laughing and caught a barreling Nyx in time.

“Ah, my favourite man!”

“He’s adorable, Hi!”, said the blonde offering her hand.

Nyx who was usually a very social and friendly child frowned at her and then ignored her. Nesta snickered besides him. The blonde’s smile dimmed but she remained close to Rhys.

Nyx looked up at Rhys and loudly proclaimed, “Da! Mommy says she… she lovesh you very very much.”

Rhys smiled, confusion lighting his eyes.

“I’m glad for that buddy because I surely love her a lot too.”

Nyx them offered a smug smile to the blonde woman as if to say, “ha! See.”

Understanding dawned on Rhys’s face and he lightly snickered at his son’s antics.

“Let’s go see mommy.”

Rhys kissed his cheek, “Lets”, he turned towards the blonde, “it was nice meeting you, enjoy the rest of your evening.”

This time Nyx waved her goodbye in sheer happiness as his father carried him towards the family table. Towards his mom.

[lonely-lost-soul]

1,000 Follower Special

Members of the DreamSMP simping for you:

Dream, GeorgeNotFound, Sapnap, Technoblade, Phil, Wilbur, and Fundy

~No minor members obviously~

Dream: 

When the both of you started dating he knew he couldn’t let anyone know about you.

The only two people who he trusted to know about you were George and Sapnap, solely because they knew who you were before the both of you dated.

Dream met you during Wilbur’s revolt against the SMP, you were a member of one of the villages he frequented.

Dream would constantly trade with your grandparents for ender pearls. They happened to sell the cheapest ones.

One day instead of them you were standing in their place.

The both of you clicked instantly, you laughed at his jokes, and were filled with a certain spark and fire, that had him hooked.

It was safe to say he was addicted.

He adored you, when the time came for him to cut off all the things he loved he couldn’t leave you behind.

Therefore you were the only person he’d allowed himself to have when he had to get rid of all personal attachments. 

To him you were a goddess who could do no wrong, he’d kill for you.

If anyone hurt you all their lives would be gone in an instant. 

He still remembered the first kiss the both of you shared, he had just gotten back from a rough battle. 

Dream was practically bleeding out on your floor, you were screaming at him calling him an idiot. 

You were fretting over him like a mother hen, he just felt so warm and cared for, he took off his mask to give you a crooked smile before falling into your arms. 

He couldn’t help but think you looked gorgeous in your grey sweatpants, hair all messy, eyes glassy from sleep.

Another string of curses fell from your mouth as he leaned forward and captured his lips with yours. 

He felt fireworks pop against his lips and you for sure tasted the blood staining in his teeth. 

He then promptly passed out in your arms.

Dream woke up wrapped in your arms and on a cushy bed. 

He knew you tended to his injuries he also knew when you woke up you’d beat his ass.

At the moment, he felt nurtured and tended to, Dream buried his face in your chest and smiled to himself. 

You were his good girl.

GeorgeNotFound:

Waking up in the woods to a girl standing over him was certainly not how he envisioned the next stage of his life going. 

She glared down at him and he hesitantly adjusted the glasses on his face, he greeted her meekly and she huffed. 

She introduced herself to him and called him a pretty boy in such a condescending manner that it made his stomach wrap up in knots. 

Oh no she was mean and hot. 

You apparently lived very far from the SMP and had no idea how he got to where he was, maybe he slept walk or something. 

You knelt beside him and grabbed his cheeks between your fingers eyeing him like you were trying to see into his soul.

He passed whatever test you had because you helped him to his feet and offered up your home to him. 

Having no other options he agreed to go with you.

As months went by he realized you weren’t all that bad. You could cook, and let him sleep all he wanted. 

(Mostly to try and get his energy back, but still)

He learned you knew a lot about nature and loved animals probably more than anyone else he knew. 

You really were soft under that tough exterior and George loved that it was him who could make you like that.

As much as he enjoyed himself he couldn’t help but miss Sapnap and Dream.

Were they even looking for him? Dream had to care at least...right?

He felt guilty for being happy here, for being happy with you.

It took another month for George to recognize his feelings for you and as soon as he did Sapnap and Dream found him. 

They both seemed to like you after he clarified that, no you didn’t kidnap him. You were a kind soul who opened your home up to him.

Dream and Sapnap looked at one other with a smirk and George’s face turned red. 

The two of them left the house to let the both of you say goodbye to one another. 

George wrapped you in a hug and pressed a soft kiss against your lips, much to his surprise you kissed him back. 

It was hesitant and he could feel the nerves radiating off you. 

He pulled away and rested his head on your forehead, he loved the flush on your face. 

“Don’t be a stranger, pretty boy.”

“I won’t my savior.” 

Sapnap:

At first, his flirting was just good fun, after all, he flirted with everyone. 

What he wasn’t expecting was for you to flirt back just as hard and confident as he did.

It was Karl who pointed out that he’d get a faraway look in his eyes whenever he talked about you. 

Sapnap didn’t get his point and Karl glared at his denseness. 

“You like her Sappy Nappy.”

“What no I- Oh shit.” 

That’s how Sapnap knew he was fucked, cause now all he could ever do was think about his crush on you. 

Sapnap at first tried to avoid you and Karl had to knock some sense into him, saying that, that was not the way he would win you over. 

Ironically, you pinned him to a tree and confronted the fire demon about his behavior.

Out of pure panic, he pressed his lips to yours, when you kissed back he was so flustered his hair caught on fire. 

You had to help him put it out with water because he couldn’t calm down enough to stop the flames from shooting out of his head. 

He was so flustered when you said you’d never let him live this down, but got over it the moment he felt your lips on his cheek (His hair almost went up in flames again).

From that moment on the both of you started dating.

You never minded his constant flirting with other people, he was glad too that was like some weird form of a love language to him. 

When Dream betrayed George and him you were there to comfort him. 

You assured him that you’d never leave his side no matter what happened. 

You would kiss him all over his face and whisper sweet nothings to him whenever he looked too lost in thought. 

He loved it. He loved being spoiled rotten.

When Karl and he moved to the Konoko Kingdom you were right by his side, you helped build your shared home from the ground up. 

You were his little Firecracker. 

Technoblade:

You were Phil’s little helper.

For as long as Technoblade knew his old friend you were by his side, you were quiet and tended mostly to the angel’s flock of crows. 

At first, The Blade thought nothing of you just the girl who always followed Phil around. 

Until he saw you stab through the chest of one of the Butcher’s army soldiers like they were butter. 

The blood that splattered your face and the unbothered look shook him to his very core. 

Oh no, you were hot. 

Technoblade was shaken out of his stupor by you handing him one of the weapons he had lost in the fight. 

You softly asked if he was alright to which he responded with a soft nod, his face was red and you raised an eyebrow.

He noticed a cut across your shoulder blade and reached out to touch the wound. 

You flinched at the touch and cradled the wounded shoulder with your hand, with a soft grumble he offered to patch up your shoulder. 

In the bathroom of his house he stitched up your shoulder, you let out of whines of pain.

The voices liked that way more than they should’ve and it made his face turn beat red. 

You looked up with him through your long lashes and he melted, the voices assuring him that he was ‘down bad.’

Phil came home and caught the both of you staring into one another’s eyes and he gave Technoblade a knowing smirk.

 The glare he sent his old friend was piercing. 

As days rolled into months his feelings for you never faded, especially since the both of you had grown closer. 

Eventually, Phil had forced Technoblade to at least ask you on a date, you dropped the birdseed at your feet and flushed up to the tips of your ears. 

You agreed eagerly and Technoblade was relieved. 

He had kissed you that night under the stars, it was a spur of the moment thing, the moonlight illuminated your best features. 

The voices couldn’t help themselves and he just listened impulsively 

Technoblade was relieved when you kissed him back, he’d protect you from all the horrors of government. 

You were his Princess. 

Philza: 

He’s lived for decades, seen those he loved grow old and pass away. 

That’s why he liked Technoblade, he lived as long as he had, had the same experiences as the angel of death. 

Phil swore he’d never love again, then he met you.

You lived next to him when he was living in New L’manburg and thought you were very pretty as well as very friendly. 

He didn’t know much about you only that:

You were fond of Ghostbur and he seemed to be fond of you.

It made Phil happy that someone else was looking after his dead son when he couldn’t.

Ghostbur had officially introduced the two of you a few weeks before Technoblade’s execution. 

After that moment, you both were practically inseparable.

You bonded over your love for building and all things shiny, he broke his own rule. 

He fell in love with you. 

When he caught wind of what the butcher army was planning on doing to Technoblade he frantically sent a crow to his companion. 

He was promptly placed under house arrest. 

You snuck in through his window once everyone departed for Technoblade’s retirement home and helped Phil disable his ankle bracelet. 

Phil pleaded for you to join him when he went to check up on Technoblade and you agreed wholeheartedly. 

The both of you flew towards Techno’s but it was already too late, they had him. 

You and Phil didn’t intervene. 

After the execution, he introduced you to Technoblade and he seemed satisfied with you sticking around.

Anyone who helped Phil out was a friend of his

You both acted like an old married couple.

Technoblade was dumbstruck to find out the both of you hadn’t had a first kiss yet let alone started dating. 

Phil hit him upside the head for that comment but it urged the old man forward to make his move on you. 

He set up a lovely dinner date, a homecooked meal by the fire was just what the both of you needed. 

You kissed him at the end of the night. 

It was soft and sweet just like you were, his hands tangled in your hair as he pressed close to you. 

You were his angel

Wilbur:

After Sally, he was sure he’d never love again.

That mantra lasted years, but after he won freedom for L’manburg, he had met you. 

You were a crew member of Captain Puffy’s ship and he always did love watching the boats come and go from the ocean. 

You had arrived in L’manburg alongside Puffy and he fell for you hard and fast.

He was a blushing, stuttering mess as you smirked over at him. 

You were strong and tough and he wanted nothing more than for you to pin him against a wall. 

After talking with Puffy you decided to stay in L’manburg and get a feel for the country, Wilbur was ecstatic. 

He showed you around all proud of what he created, you interlocked your hands with his and he felt faint. 

The two of you were an item not soon after.

Fundy approved, happy his father was finally moving on plus he loved your take no shit attitude. 

They both loved when you sang the best. 

You always had a wide assortment of sea shanties to share, and a plethora of stories to tell. 

You had taught a few of them to Wilbur so he could play them on his guitar, another great bonding moment he remembered fondly. 

When you sang it was the only time he ever considered you soft. 

Before Wilbur announced the results of the election you had done the very thing he hoped you would do when he first met you.

Grab him by the hair, pin him against a wall and give him a heated kiss that made his knees weak.

“Go get them, Wilby.” 

“Yes ma’am.”

Losing was not something either of you foresaw. You ran away with him and Tommy to join Pogtopia. 

You were by his side in his slow descent into his eventual madness and stayed by his side up until his inevitable death. 

As he slowly died in you and Phil’s arms you sung to him one final time.

He told you he loved you on his last breath.

You were his muse.

Fundy:

Being left at the altar was one of the most horrifying experiences Fundy had ever had the displeasure of going through.

You’d been there when Dream left with George, you had threatened to stab out the man’s eyes. 

You stayed beside him the entire night, you refused to take no for an answer. 

Fundy had never been more vulnerable than he was with you that night.

He was embarrassed at first but you shushed him and assured him it was alright.

Fundy flushed and felt guilty for doing so, he shouldn’t feel that way around you. 

Your hand reached up to pet his ears and he began to purr loudly in your arms. 

Eventually, Fundy realized he had feelings for you.

Much like Sapnap, he went to immediate Panic Mode.

He didn’t want for this to end up like Dream again, not that you were anything like him, but at the same time, he didn’t want to ruin your friendship. 

However, much to his surprise it was you who confessed to him. 

Fundy said he felt the same before you even finished your confession. 

His tail was wagging rapidly and he had to physically hold it down to stop it from wagging 

Which was something you laughed at but he felt embarrassed about, you had to assure him that you thought it was the cutest thing in the entire world.

He whined at that but you kissed all over his cheeks so he had to immediately forgive you. 

Fundy introduced you to Wilbur who grilled you about your love for Fundy, he wanted to kill his dad. 

You assured him that you loved Fundy, and would never want to hurt him. 

Wilbur seemed satisfied with your response and wished both of you well. 

After Wilbur left, Fundy kissed your lips softly, his tail once again wagging rapidly.

As he pulled away you leaned back in and kissed him back, your hand gently stroked his ears and he purred again. 

He knew for sure he was going to marry you, and it wouldn’t end up like Dream and his wedding.

However, that was still a long way away.

For now, he just had to settle for you being his dream girl.

~~~

Hey guys! Thank you so much for 1,000 followers??? I am honored and shocked thank you all so much! Thank you to everyone who send me supportive messages and my amazing anon’s who member fail to cheer me up. Many more stories and projects are in the works but I wanted to do something special and different for the big 1,000. Thanks again and I hope you enjoy 😊