#shelter me with your wings | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

inkedinshadows · 6 months ago

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Nights and Days

Pairing: Azriel × reader

Summary: Azriel and Y/N are on a mission in Illyria, but as they move from one camp to another, they’re caught in a blizzard and are forced to find shelter in the nearest inn. Thanks to the shadowsinger, there's only one bed.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, just a sprinkle of shadow play, language, lots of witty banter

Word count: 6.3k

A/N: this is my first time writing smut, so I'd really appreciate it if you let me know what you think 🥺

Groups of rebels had begun to appear all over Illyria, claiming that Rhys was not a good High Lord, that a low-born bastard was not suited to be their general, and that training their women was nothing more than a waste of time.

After two weeks of diplomacy that led to absolutely nothing, Rhys had dispatched the Inner Circle to deal with the rebels. Mor and Amren had stayed in Velaris to make sure nothing happened, but the others had been sent out to Illyria. And Y/N had been paired up with Azriel.

They were flying from one war camp to the next—Y/N trying to focus on anything other than Azriel holding her close as he flew—when it started to snow.

“Is it safe to keep going?” she asked him, glancing at his beautiful wings flapping behind him.

“Would you rather I land now? In the middle of nowhere?” Azriel looked down at her with a little smirk on his face. “Give me some credit, Y/N. I can handle a little snow.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot you’re a big, tough Illyrian warrior. My bad.”

He didn't answer, but she didn't need to look at him to know he was still smirking. That annoyingly attractive smirk always made her want to kiss him. She focused on the forest below, on anything other than his lips and how close they’d be if she would just turn her head his way.

They flew in silence for just a few more minutes before the snow began to fall more heavily. Y/N simply looked at Azriel with a raised eyebrow, not bothering to use words.

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” he said when he noticed her expression, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “Camp is not that far. We can still make it.”

“Azriel, did you wake up this morning and just decided to be stupid?” She pointed at the grey sky above them, where more clouds were gathering with the promise of more snow to come. “You see that, right? It’s already late and we both know it’ll only get worse. We won’t reach the next camp before it turns into a blizzard. Besides, I’m freezing my ass off out here.”

His only answer was a low chuckle. “Oh, yeah? The poor princess is freezing her little ass off?”

She smacked him on the shoulder. “My ass is anything but little, shadowsinger. Shouldn’t you find us a shelter or something, instead of making fun of me?”

“Said the one who just called me stupid,” he pointed out. He lifted a brow, flashing her another one of those smirks. “Maybe you should apologize for that, and I might think about landing somewhere.”

She cocked her head, unsure if he was messing around or not. “I refuse to apologize for telling the truth. And you’d better land soon, or I’ll kick your ass when you do.”

Azriel’s laugh echoed in her ears, and it took all her focus not to smile just at that sound she so rarely got to hear. “As if you could actually kick my ass.”

If her arms hadn’t been wrapped around his neck, she would have crossed them over her chest. Or maybe she would have used them to strangle him, if only it wouldn't mean they'd fall out of the sky. Eventually, she settled to roll her eyes again. “Azriel, I’m being serious.”

Though she enjoyed their usual banter and she knew as well as everyone that she could never kick his ass, she hadn’t lied. Even with her Illyrian leathers, she was starting to freeze out there in the snow, and there was no way they would reach their destination without being caught in a full-blown blizzard.

“Relax. Despite what you think, Y/N, I’m not stupid.” He gestured to something below them just as she opened her mouth to protest. “It’s an inn. You would have noticed it already, if only you hadn’t been so busy complaining.”

“Shut up,” she grumbled, squinting to see through the trees and the snow. But as Azriel glided down, she finally saw it. It was a rather large building for an inn in the middle of the woods—many Illyrians probably passed through it—so there was a high chance of finding a couple of rooms to spend the night in.

Azriel landed and gently set her on the ground. Together, they headed for the door and were welcomed inside by the warmth of a fire in the corner of the room. She shook the snow off her hair as she took in their surroundings—a few tables full of Illyrian warriors, most of them drinking and laughing quite loudly.

“We ran out of double rooms.” The innkeeper looked at them as they approached, apparently too bored to even bother with greetings. “But we’ve still got a few single ones.”

Before she could tell him that two rooms were perfect, Azriel was already answering. “We need only one, actually.”

Next thing she knew, he had grabbed her hand and was leading her up the stairs, a key now clutched in his fingers. She waited for the door to close behind them before she turned to him with a frown. “What the hell was that? Why only one room?”

Azriel tossed his pack on the floor and replied as if the answer was obvious. “The hall was packed with drunk Illyrians.”

“So?”

He looked at her then, and she couldn’t quite understand what she saw in his eyes. Was it concern? Or frustration because she still didn’t realize something he thought was so simple?

“I’m not letting you sleep in another room alone, when a bunch of drunk Illyrians have just seen you, probably the only female here, walk in.”

Well, that was not what she expected. But as she thought it over, she couldn’t deny he had a point. She was able to hold her own in a fight, just not against fully trained warriors, and she didn't want to take any risk, especially when it was just one night.

Not knowing what to answer, she looked around the room, which consisted of only one bed and a small dresser—lame and boring, but it would do. Except for the one single bed.

She watched as Azriel sat on an old rug, the only decoration there was. “And what are you doing now, exactly?”

He shrugged, with that same expression that seemed to tell her the answer was obvious. “I'll take the floor, you take the bed.”

She almost laughed at that. “You can't sleep on the floor, not with your wings. I'll do it.”

“I'll be fine,” he replied, and extended his wings behind him as if to prove it. “Why would you want to sleep on the floor anyway?”

“Because I don't want you to do it,” she answered matter-of-factly. “Now get your ass off that floor, shadowsinger.”

Azriel did no such thing and instead leaned back against the wall and extended his legs in front of him. Her gaze dropped to his thighs, the muscles shifting with the movement.

“Why would I do that? It's comfortable here.”

She looked up again, her arms crossed over her chest. “It's not and you know it.”

Both of them too stubborn to give in, they glared at each other. She made no move to sit on the bed, and he made no move to get up. They probably could have spent hours like this, but she couldn't stand the idea of Azriel sleeping on a half-consumed rug, even if it meant she'd do it.

“You wouldn't want to face the rebels with a sore body tomorrow, would you?” she tried, hoping it'd make him think straight.

“I've slept on the ground before, I'll be fine. Big, tough Illyrian warrior, remember?” His lips twitched up, and amusement glinted in his hazel eyes. “Just take the bed, Y/N. We have a long day ahead of us.”

“Which is exactly why you should sleep on the bed, Az,” she snapped before taking a deep breath and speaking more calmly. “I'm just the backup. It doesn't matter if I'm sore.”

“It matters to me.”

His words hung heavily in the air, and she swallowed, not sure how to react to them or to the fervor in his voice. There was an intensity in his eyes that she’d never seen before and, unable to his gaze any longer, she blinked.

“You’re not going to budge, are you?” she asked with a sigh, her arms falling back to her sides.

“No.” And there it was again, that teasing grin she usually wanted to kiss. Right now, though, she felt more like punching him for his stubbornness. It outmatched even her own. “So I suggest you listen and take the bed. You need some rest.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, and you don't?”

This time, it was his turn to sigh and roll his eyes at her. “Y/N, I’ll be fine. I’ve slept in worse conditions, and it’s only just one night anyway.”

And yet, the thought of him sleeping on that rug while she was all comfortable on the bed didn’t sit right with her. Just like her well-being mattered to him, his mattered to her. Maybe it was because he’d admitted it, or because he’d rather sleep on the floor than let her stay in another room when the place was full of Illyrians. Or maybe she was just trying to find some kind of excuse, but the words were out before she could think better of them.

“Sleep on the bed. With me.”

Azriel’s eyes widened, and she immediately regretted even thinking about it. “I beg your pardon?”

“I mean… it’s just…” she stuttered, her cheeks heating up as she looked away. What a huge mistake she’d just made. Just because he cared about her didn’t mean he’d want to share a bed with her. What was she even thinking? “I know it’s small and there’s not much space, but I just… I thought it’d still be more comfortable than the floor… you know?” Her voice trailed off, and she stared down at her feet.

Deafening silence filled the room, and then Azriel finally spoke, his tone cautious. “And that’s all you were asking?”

She frowned, not sure what else she might have been asking. But she quickly realized what words she had used and how that could potentially sound like something more than an offer to share the bed. Sleep on the bed. With me. Cauldron, she was so stupid. Her face turned an even deeper shade of red. When was the last time she had blushed?

“No, I wasn’t— that’s not what I—” She couldn’t get the words out, and it didn’t help that her mind was now wandering toward certain scenarios that involved the two of them, a bed, and very little clothing. She turned away from him and mumbled, “Whatever.”

“I think this is the first time I've ever seen you speechless.” There was amusement in his voice, and she knew the asshole was smirking once more. “You should watch your word choice if that’s not what you intended to ask.”

“Yeah, I know. Sorry,” she murmured as she reached for her pack, but when she took her nightgown out, she realized there was no place to go to get changed. How was she supposed to change in front of him after such an embarrassing mistake? So instead, she delayed the moment she’d have to do it by trying to explain again. “It wasn’t my intention to imply anything. It came out wrong.”

She could feel his eyes on her as he answered. “I noticed. What was your intention, then?”

The look she gave him was one of annoyance. He knew exactly what her intention was, and he just liked to mess with her. She glared at him for a moment before she replied, “I meant what I said. I don’t want you to sleep on that rug, and you don’t want me to do it either. So, the only other option is that we share the bed.”

“Mh, I see.” His lips tugged up in a self-satisfied grin that just made her want to hit him to see it disappear. Not that she could hit him even if she really wanted to. Azriel would block her blow with little effort. But how could she have ever wanted to kiss him?

“So sleeping next to me is the only option?” he added.

“You know what?” she snapped, gesturing to the rug where he was still sitting like it was the most comfortable place he’d ever been. “I changed my mind. Sleep on the floor. I don’t care.”

He chuckled. Chuckled. Cauldron boil her.

She turned her back on him and, without giving it any second thought, she began undressing. She hadn’t realized how warm the Illyrian leathers were until she shivered as soon as she took them off.

“It seems like you’re cold,” Azriel drawled from behind her.

“I’m not,” she replied. She put on her nightgown and sought refuge under the covers. “Not for long, anyway.”

How was Azriel going to spend the night on a rug, without a blanket? When he didn’t answer, she considered maybe asking him one last time to share the bed. Out of the goodness of her heart, she supposed.

But then Azriel spoke again, amusement clear in his voice. And the goodness of her heart be damned.

“You're cold, aren't you?”

She sighed, wrapping the blanket tighter around her body. “No.”

“Liar.”

“Prick.”

“I'm the prick? You're the one who suggested we should share the bed.”

Y/N resisted the urge to turn on her side and face him. Maybe it was stupid and childish of her, but she kept lying with her back to him. “I don't see how that makes me a prick, Az. Besides, you're the one who made fun of me because of it, which means you're the prick here.”

His voice still carried a sense of playfulness as he answered. “I made fun of you because you stumbled over your words like a fool. It was quite amusing, to be honest.”

Instead of replying, she slid a hand out from under the blanket and flipped him off over her shoulder. As she hid it again and curled up in the bedsheets, Azriel’s soft laugh made her smile despite herself.

She heard some noise and, assuming he was getting changed and ready for the night, she closed her eyes. But her mind was running wild.

Images of his hands on her. Of her hands on him. Their lips touching, first tenderly, then passionately. Their bodies pressed together as pleasure overcame them. All scenarios she had never let herself fully consider before, now evoked by Azriel's misunderstanding of her words. Scenarios she now knew for sure would never happen if the way he'd teased her for even suggesting sharing the bed was any indication.

“Make room for me?”

His voice was so close to her that she started, her head snapping around to find him standing next to the bed. He had taken off his leathers and was now wearing loose pants and a shirt. His wings were tucked in tight behind him—those beautiful wings that she knew were bigger than Cassian's and Rhysand's. She still wasn't sure she should believe Mor about the correlation between an Illyrian's wingspan and other body parts.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you,” he added with a small smile.

“You and your absurdly silent steps,” she grumbled, but she was already moving to the other side of the bed.

Only that there wasn’t exactly an ‘other side’, not when the bed was barely big enough for both of them. As Azriel slipped under the sheets, she found herself with her back pressed against his chest. His familiar scent of night-chilled mist and cedar filled her senses, and his warmth seeped through her, chasing away the remnants of the cold that even the blanket hadn’t yet managed to rid her of.

“Tell me you don’t move a lot when you sleep,” she said as he settled behind her. “Because if you push me off, I’ll make you regret not staying on that rug.”

His laugh skittered down her back. “You always have something to say, don't you?”

“I promise you, the moment there will be nothing to say, I will shut up,” she replied with a chuckle.

Silence fell and Y/N nestled more against his side. She just couldn't help it. Feeling him so close, their bodies pressing together... it was intoxicating, and she wanted to stay like that forever. She hesitated a moment, and then she decided that she might as well do it: grabbing his arm, she wrapped it around her waist and laced their fingers together, their intertwined hands resting against her stomach. Azriel tensed behind her, and she thought he might pull away, but he didn’t. Instead, he released a deep breath that tickled the back of her neck.

“I would never let you fall off the bed,” he murmured. His voice was so close to her ear that it almost made her shiver. And as if to show he really meant what he said, Azriel draped his wings around her.

Y/N suddenly had a lump in her throat. Being enveloped in his wings was somehow more intimate than lying so close to each other. “Glad to hear it,” was all she could think about. After a second, she added in a whisper, “And thank you for not letting me sleep alone.”

Azriel’s arm tightened around her waist, his breath warm against her neck. When he spoke, she could tell by his tone alone that he wanted to say more than just, “You're welcome.” She didn't push him though. He'd tell her when and if he decided to.

She closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep, letting the sound of the blizzard outside lull her, but with Azriel holding her it was nearly impossible. Wrapped in his arms and wings, she felt safe and protected. Everything else seemed to disappear until it was just the two of them in their small cocoon.

“Can you turn over?”

Her eyes opened at his question, but she didn't move. To face him would mean being only inches away from him. She didn't trust herself to be that close to him. To his lips.

“Why?”

“Just turn over, Y/N,” he whispered. “Please.”

It was the vulnerability in his voice—the barely audible ‘please’—that had her giving in. She had never heard him say it before, not like that.

But as she complied, her face was even closer to his than she'd anticipated. Their noses were almost touching, and she made a point not to let her gaze drop to his lips.

Azriel didn't say anything. They stared into each other's eyes for a few moments or maybe an hour—Y/N didn't know. The one thing she knew was that her heart was beating faster in her chest, and it only got worse when he brushed her cheek, his touch gentle and soft. She smiled, and the movement caused his gaze to dip to her mouth. She waited for him to look up again, but he didn't.

Her smile turned into a little smirk. “Are you just going to stare at my lips all night, or do you plan to actually do something about it?”

Azriel looked at her again, and though he tried to look annoyed, she could see a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Why do you always have to make such quick-witted comments?”

“Shut up and kiss me,” she replied before she even knew what she was saying. She didn't regret it though, because he did it.

And the world shrank till there was just Azriel.

His lips were soft against hers, warm and inviting. His hand moved from her cheek to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer. She melted against him, opening up for his tongue to slip inside, tasting her slowly, almost reverently. Her heart was beating so fast it might have jumped out of her chest.

She'd wanted this to happen for the longest time, and now that it was real, the leash she'd kept on herself vanished. Every feeling, every emotion she'd stifled for so long, now rushed to the surface like a tidal wave.

What had started as a tender kiss soon turned into something passionate and greedy. She whimpered softly against his lips, and her hands began to make their way down to the hem of his shirt.

“Y/N.” Azriel's whisper stopped her as she looked into his eyes. She could see her own need reflected there. “Are you sure about this?”

“I don't look sure enough to you?” She raised an eyebrow. “Maybe next time I should just send you a note and—”

Azriel silenced her with another kiss. “You and your sarcastic answers,” he murmured with a smile.

Y/N giggled and cupped his cheek, brushing her thumb against his lips. “I mean it, Az,” she said, her tone softer now. “I'm sure about it.”

“Good.” He pulled her flush against him as his hands roamed down her back. “Because if I start, I don't think I could stop.”

“Good,” she repeated before she kissed him again.

Y/N tugged on his shirt, and they parted long enough for her to take it off, though it took a bit of struggle to undo the clasps on his back and free his wings. She'd seen him shirtless before, mostly when he was training—he was a real feast for the eye—but now she got to touch him, to run her hands across his torso and feel him shudder. His mouth descended on her neck in response, leaving a trail of wet kisses while his hands gripped her backside.

“You were right, princess,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. “Your ass is definitely not little.”

She chuckled as he kneaded it. “Told you.”

Azriel hummed, planting one last kiss on her neck before he shifted position and Y/N found herself pressed down on the mattress, the shadowsinger now on top of her. As she pulled him closer for their lips to meet yet again, his hands caressed her legs, trailing up her thighs and slipping under her nightgown.

She held her breath as he brushed past her panties, lingering just long enough to make her shiver. He then moved up her body, causing the fabric to rise and reveal her soft flesh.

Y/N broke the kiss, a small sigh leaving her lips when Azriel’s hands reached her breasts. He smiled at the sound, and as their eyes met, his gaze was so full of desire that her core clenched.

She wanted him. She needed him.

Before she could reach between them to push down his pants, Azriel gently stopped her by grabbing her wrists, sensing what her intention was. “Not yet,” he murmured.

She frowned. A slight tug was all it took for him to release her hands, though she didn't try to undress him again. “Why not?”

And there it was again, that smirk. But now, with him on top of her, both of them half naked, she didn't simply want to kiss it. No, she wanted do all the things she'd never let herself consider.

“Because I want to see you first, princess.”

Azriel was already pushing her nightgown up, but as usual, she couldn't keep her mouth shut. “So it's official? You're calling me princess now? You've never done that before.”

He looked down at her with so much desire that it seemed to set her body on fire. “I've never been about to fuck you before,” he answered, his voice low and sultry.

Her thighs clenched together, but before she could come up with a response, Azriel removed her nightgown. Her skin was already so heated she barely felt the bite of the cool air, and it was completely forgotten when he ran his hands all over her body, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“You're so beautiful,” he whispered as he leaned down to take one of her nipples in his warm mouth, a soft moan escaping her as she shivered.

Her fingers tangled in his hair to keep him close, and she arched against him when his tongue flicked out to tease her.

“And you're so responsive,” he murmured. Hooking a scarred finger into the waistband of her panties, he pulled them down her legs. The scent of her arousal wafted through the room as Azriel nudged her legs open and settled in between them.

Y/N was about to tell him to hurry, her need to feel him against and inside her now almost overwhelming. But she couldn’t form the words, not as Azriel pushed his hips against hers and she felt the evidence of his own arousal pressing hard against her wet core.

His hands caressed her sides, her ass, her thighs, and yet he never touched her where she needed it most.

“Azriel…” she complained, eyes locked on him. She moved her hips to grind against his erection, seeking some sort of friction, and she was rewarded by his sharp inhale. But it still wasn't enough.

“Be patient, Y/N.” His mouth descended on her neck again, biting the soft spot where it met her shoulder. “I want to taste you first. I want to worship every inch of you.”

Even though she closed her eyes at his little nips, she shook her head. “Azriel, I appreciate it. I really do. But you have no idea how long I've waited for this.” Her breath hitched when his tongue swirled around her nipple again. “We can leave the worshipping for later. I need you now.”

“You need me, uh?” He kissed her other breast, and she bucked her hips against him once more. “And you've waited a long time for this?”

Y/N looked at him again, her fingers still clutching his hair. She nodded and realized her mistake too late—a new mischievous gleam entered Azriel's hazel eyes.

His lips trailed down her stomach and toward her belly button. Each kiss sent a shiver right to her core. “Then you can wait a little longer.”

She groaned, her patience now at its limit. “Azriel, you—”

A gasp cut her off as he licked a stripe up her dripping folds. She couldn't tell who moaned first when Azriel tasted her once more, his tongue flicking over her clit.

Her fingers tightened in his black curls and her head fell back on the pillow. Azriel's lips closed around her clit and she clamped a hand on her mouth to keep quiet as he gently sucked on it.

His shadows began to slither up her body, their touch cool against her heated skin. Her breathing quickened and she had to hold back a moan when his tongue was replaced by a finger slowly sliding inside her folds.

But it didn't move. Azriel looked up at her and she wished she could somehow capture the picture: his head between her legs, those beautiful hazel eyes focused on her with an almost predatory intent.

“Don't go all quiet on me now, princess,” he murmured against her skin. “I want to hear all your pretty noises.”

A tendril of shadow brushed against her hand, and she removed it from her mouth. “Az, the other rooms—”

He curled his finger to hit that soft, spongy spot inside her that had her see stars, and she couldn't stop the moan that left her lips.

“I don't care if someone hears you.” His voice was a low, almost commanding growl. “Let them hear you. Let them know you're with me.”

She was about to answer, to tell him she wasn't sure she should, but Azriel added a second finger, and she lost all control, another small cry of pleasure slipping out.

Azriel seemed satisfied because his smirk reappeared. “If I had known this is all it took to put a stop on the witty comments, I would have done it a long time ago.”

Y/N wanted to make one of those very witty comments to prove him wrong, to show him she hadn't become helpless just because of how good he made her feel, but his tongue circled her clit again and Mother above, she was helpless.

“Do you want to come, princess?”

Unable to form even a coherent thought, all she could do was nod, her body on the brink of release as his fingers curled once more, drawing a moan from deep in her throat.

“Use your words, Y/N.”

“Yes… yes, please,” she panted.

But instead of keeping going, of driving her over that sweet, craved edge, Azriel placed a kiss to her inner thigh and slowly removed his fingers from her folds. He even moved away from her, standing up at the foot of the bed.

She groaned, pushing herself up on her elbows to glower at him. “Azriel, you get back here right now.”

He only grinned. “Ah, there she is.”

“If you're doing this just because you missed my comments, you should know that I—”

The words died on her tongue as soon as his hands swiftly undid the buttons of his pants. Her eyes followed his every movement as he pushed them down his legs, watching his muscles shift and his wings unfold ever so slightly to keep him balanced.

He wasn't wearing any underwear.

The realization caused her brain to stop working, and the sight of his naked body took her breath away. Maybe the rumors about Illyrian wingspans were true after all.

Her mouth dry, she swallowed before finally speaking again. “Azriel,” she repeated, her voice quivering with barely restrained desire. “Get back here right now.”

For once, he obliged without questioning, his grin wide.

Climbing onto the bed, he crawled up her body until his cock pressed against her entrance, her need for him now through the roof.

Their eyes met, and slowly—too slowly—Azriel pushed in, stretching her inch by delicious inch, both of them releasing a moan when he bottomed out, his hips flush against her.

“Fuck,” he groaned, the sound shooting straight down to her core. “Fuck, Y/N... you feel incredible.”

She had no words to describe how he felt inside her. ‘Incredible’ was an understatement, but her mind was too foggy to think of something else. The only thing she was sure of was that she needed him to move.

“Azriel,” she breathed as she wrapped her legs around him. He shuddered when she accidentally brushed his wings with her toes. “Please, move. Now.”

With his elbows on either side of her head, he leaned down to kiss her, pulling out almost all the way. “I love hearing you beg for it,” he whispered against her lips, and rocked back into her with a quick roll of his hips before she could even think of a response.

He didn’t even try to go slow, instead immediately setting a relentless pace that left her panting, but she didn’t mind. Every choked sound and breathless moan were swallowed by his kiss, their tongues swirling together. Her hands found their way into his hair, around his neck, down his back, and her nails scraped along his warm and slightly sweaty skin while he thrust into her, her hips rising to meet his.

Azriel’s own groans and whimpers were music to the ears, each of them bringing her closer to release. As if he knew her body well enough already, he seemed to sense it too, because his lips left hers to trail down her neck.

“That’s it, princess,” he praised. His clipped voice let her know he was probably trying to hold back his own impending orgasm. “Come for me.”

His shadows flew in the little space between their bodies to tease her clit, drawing a guttural groan from her. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before—cool against her hot skin, a barely-there touch that yet was enough to make her shudder and whine. But it was the uniqueness of it all that sent her toppling over the edge.

A loud cry broke from her as her vision blurred and her body tensed, her nails slightly digging into Azriel’s back while he slowed his thrusts to draw out her pleasure. But he soon resumed his punishing pace, his hips slamming into hers almost frantically, the sound of skin on skin filling the small room as he chased his own release.

She choked out his name right as he stilled, hot spurts of cum filling her, his last few moans muffled when she pulled him in for another desperate kiss.

They were both panting by the time they broke apart, but neither of them tried to move. Azriel still lay buried deep inside her, and simply rested his forehead against hers, a smile on his lips that mirrored her own.

Despite his heavy breaths, his brows raised as he asked playfully, “So was the wait worth it?”

“It was,” she answered with a chuckle. Her hands came up to cup his face, her thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “You certainly know what you’re doing, shadowsinger.”

Wrong words.

“Is that so?” His grin only widened, and he gave another roll of his hips that dragged a groan from the back of her throat.

She slapped him on the shoulder, but her smile matched his. “Smug ass.”

Azriel's soft laugh tickled her cheek as he kissed it. Slowly, he pulled out of her, leaving her with a feeling of emptiness.

Not ready to let him go just yet, she curled up in his arms as soon as he lay down next to her. Azriel immediately embraced her, holding her close to his chest, their legs tangled.

A comfortable silence settled over them as they bathed in the afterglow of sex, interrupted only by their soft breathing and the blizzard still raging outside.

As the minutes passed, Y/N struggled to keep her eyes open, but she had always wanted to trace the swirling lines of Azriel's tattoos, and now she had her chance. Her fingers danced along the Illyrian design, following the pattern from his neck to his arm, then lingering a bit longer on his sculpted pecs and feeling the muscle beneath her fingertips. His heart was beating fast, pounding in his chest.

“Can you promise me something?”

She glanced up at him, his eyes already fixed on her. The corner of her lips twitched upwards. “Depends on what it is.”

Azriel was silent for a long moment before he spoke again with a new seriousness in his tone. “Promise me that we’ll give this a chance. That we’ll give… us a chance.”

Her fingers halted their roaming, her heart skipped a bit, and a part of her whispered that she had heard that wrong, that she had misunderstood. No way he was actually asking her what she thought he was asking her, despite just having had sex.

She had to swallow the lump in her throat to be able to murmur, “Do you mean that?”

Azriel's eyes softened, like he knew she was even more vulnerable now than while they were fucking, and that whether her heart broke or not depended entirely on his answer.

“I’ve waited for this for a long time too, Y/N,” he said gently, cupping her cheeks to look right into her eyes. “I don’t want just this one night with you. I want all the nights you’ll give me.”

Y/N smiled then, so bright it could have lit up the whole room. She wanted to kiss him senseless, to hold him tight and never let go. And nothing was stopping her anymore, she realized, so she did just that.

She showered his face with tiny kisses. Every beautiful inch, from his nose to his jawline, from his eyebrow to his chin. Azriel's arms wrapped around her middle to pull her closer, and she relented her assault only when he chuckled.

Their eyes met again, and she knew there was no turning back now. But she would never turn back now.

“I’ll give you all the nights in the world, Az,” she finally said once the burst of joy subsided. “And the days, too. I'll give you anything you want.”

His smile was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. It was wider than ever before and the urge to touch his small dimples rushed through her—dimples she'd never known he had, but that she'd do anything to see again.

When he kissed her, it was slow yet passionate, gentle yet desperate, their breaths mingling, their hands caressing cheeks and running through hair.

“You're the only thing I want,” Azriel murmured once their lips parted. “Every night and every day. I want only you.”

Those were probably the most beautiful words she'd ever heard. Not even in her dreams did she imagine he would say them. Dwelling on what it would be like to share moments of passion was one thing, but this…

She moved to straddle him, mindful of his wings splayed out beneath him. She wanted to run her fingers down their length, and hopefully, sooner rather than later, she might get to do just that.

“Then I hope you're not too tired, shadowsinger.” She leaned down to trail kisses along his tattoo, but her eyes never left his. “Because you can't say something like that without expecting me to fuck you again.”

His hands tightened their grip on her thighs, her words enough to ignite the fire in him once more. “I'm yours, princess. We have all night.”

“All the nights,” she corrected him with a grin, already grinding on him. “And all the days.”

Maybe they would be facing the rebels with sore bodies, after all.

Tags: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover

(If I accidentally added someone who wanted to be tagged only in part 3 of A Helping Hand and not the general tag list, please let me know and I'll fix it)

#acotar #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #sjm #azriel × reader #fanfic #azriel x y/n #azriel spymaster #azriel smut #azriel fluff #one bed trope #shadowsinger

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clairifys · 7 months ago

Text

You are mine, and I am yours.

Benjicot Blackwood x Fem!Targ!Reader

w.c: 3.0k

18+ minors dni!!

c.w: violence, blood, death, 18+ content, nsfw, tent sex, fingering, making out, kissing, p in v, descriptive words, not-canon (sorry!)

ok guys i finally finished.. lmk if y’all like it!

There had been whispers from the Riverlands. You sat in on your mother’s council as you listened to the lords brabble around you. It wasn’t until Maester Gerardys spoke up that everyone went silent.

“Your Grace, a raven from Raventree came in, unfortunate news.” He spoke slowly, “Samwell Blackwood, Lord of House Blackwood was slain. His heir, Benjicot Blackwood now sits where he once sat.” Maester Gerardys concluded.

“Unfortunate news indeed..” Your mother, Queen Rhaenyra spoke saddened by the fatality.

“..Along with that news, the Riverland houses have expressed concern.” Maester Gerardys added.

“And what concern is that?” Your mother spoke cautiously.

“News that Aemond Targaryen’s dragon, Vhagar has been flying above them on multiple accounts.” He concurred, upon hearing this, you speak up.

“Mother..” You began, “Allow me to go out on Vermithor and keep our troops protected from the sky.” You suggested slowly, your mother looking at you with uncertainty and love in her eyes.

“My daughter, my only daughter,” your mother began before being cut off by Princess Rhaenys.

“Rhaenyra. We are at war, only few of us have dragons and Vermithor would be the best chance against Vhagar.” She affirmed strongly, “Vermithor has been with (Y/n) since she was a babe. She’s been riding much longer than Aemond.” Rhaenys left no room for objection and your mother looked at you with determination and melancholy.

“Alright.” She spoke firmly. “You will go on Vermithor before break of day.” Rhaenyra stood up and softly grabbed your arm to lead you with her to her room.

“My love, be careful and stay concealed until you reach the Riverlands.” She spoke lovingly as she took off the necklace your father, Daemon, gave her when she was a teenager. She fastens it around your neck before speaking, “Take this with you, to remember and to hold when you feel lonely.” She finished as a tear rolled down her cheek. She gives you a kiss on the forehead and holds you in her arms.

Benjicot had received no letter of affirmation from Queen Rhaenyra and only hoped she’d seen it and considered sending a dragon. The Northerners had arrived the previous day with Cregan Stark, the Lord of Winterfell.

“Oye, Benji get your arse back in and train with me.” Kemit Tully taunted with a smile. He had been training with two of the boys he grew up with, Kermit and Oscar Tully.

“Yeah, yeah keep up with your taunting when I have my dagger at your throat and my foot on your chest.” Benjicot spoke up, a glint of madness in his eyes, the same as when he was on the field.

Benjicot Blackwood was a strange man. Soft and sensitive in any other occasion, even crying after his first battle once he saw all the casualties, but there was a reason he was named ‘Bloody Ben’ when he began his fights.

Kermit and Benjicot were about to start sparring when they noticed Oscar was silent, looking up in fear.

“Oscar..?” Benjicot spoke softly, unsure.

“Dragon.” He mumbled before shouting, “Dragon!”

As the men around them turned to look up, ready to be set aflame by Vhagar, they noticed the bronze color and tan wings. Still weary, the men around them took shelter under the trees as Benjicot, Oscar and Kermit stood planted in their spot, marveling at the sight of the beautiful beast.

You commanded Vermithor to land when you had seen the men cower under the blanket of trees. Flying downwards, your pearly ivory hair whipping behind you as it stayed in the same braided style, lest you need to engage in combat. Guiding your dragon to landing, you slowly climb down off of him as you pull your riding gloves off with your teeth. Your black and red dress blowing behind you as the men who ran to the trees slowly come out. Before you can speak, a man of considerable size, donned in Northern armor approaches and bows before kissing your hand. Cregan Stark you come to realize as he begins to speak.

“Princess (Y/n). It is good to finally meet. I met with your brother, Jacaerys a moon ago. I thank you for coming.” He finishes politely. You feel your face flush at the open show of adoration, it’s never not embarrassing for you, but you give him a soft smile, albeit awkwardly before he leads you to the tent where all the lords were meeting.

Benjicot had already made his way to the tent when Lord Stark greeted you, he was too nervous to go up to you, due to your lineage and beauty. When you made your way in the tent and situated yourself, you spoke confidently.

“I have been sent by Her Grace to ensure the safety of our men who have selflessly put their lives on the line for my mother’s cause. Whilst I am here, I assure you, if Vhagar is to begin attacking, there will be a dragon in the sky for you, to protect you.” You stated confidently, hoping none of the men could notice your nerves. You hadn’t ever been the highest of royalty as your mother was always there. Now though, you needed to keep your promise to your mother to ensure her birthright, even if it caused you to perish to achieve it.

“So..” Oscar started as he and Kermit looked at Benjicot when he met up with them after the short-lived meeting.

“What?” He asked softly.

“What was she like? It’s not everyday a Princess as beautiful as her flies down from the sky to protect an army.” Oscar pleaded for information.

“Gods, she’s..” Benjicot trailed off as he looked at you from the training ground to see you lovingly caress and speak to your dragon in a language he didn’t understand.

“..we should be glad they sent someone as fierce as they did, she promised that if Vhagar were to return attacking, she’d meet him in the sky.” He finished softly, still watching you.

“Alright you two, let’s stop talking about her before she has her dragon eat us and start training.” Kermit insisted, secretly in awe.

Benjicot and Kermit were up first, not being able to begin their fight due to the Princess’s arrival. The only sound around them was the clashing of steel and the thumping of their hearts, which in turn, distracted the Princess from what she had been doing prior.

You walk over to where you see two men fighting, you notice them as Lord Benjicot Blackwood and Lord Kermit Tully battling it out. Benjicot gains the upper hand eventually as you watch in a trance of the crazed man’s ability and soon, Lord Tully is on the ground with a dagger to his throat. Ser Oscar Tully, you come to believe, begins cheering as Benjicot puts his hand out to the Tully on the ground. His back to you, you begin a gentle clap which sends all three men’s spine straight up. They all turn to you as you focus your gaze on Lord Blackwood while he maintains eye contact before nervously fiddling with his fingers and averting his gaze.

“Princess,” Lord Blackwood speaks up, meeting your eyes again with a slight flush on his face. You wonder if it’s because of the sparring, or maybe because of you. Normally you’d get weirded out when men expressed any sort of adoration towards you, but this time it was different.

“I can see where the name ‘Bloody Ben’ comes from, Lord Blackwood.” You state gracefully. You notice the two Tully’s giving him a look and smirking. His face flushes red as he responds,

“Thank you, Princess, but please call me Benji.. or Ben.. or whatever you wish.” He stumbles on his words and you find it endearing, you hear his friends laugh and you chuckle softly.

“Alright, Benji.” You speak as his face flushes an impossible red, “I’m glad to have you on our side, your swordsmanship is unlike any I’ve seen.” You state clearly before taking your leave to your tent.

“‘Please call me Benji, or Ben, or whatever you want, My Princess, please take advantage of me!’” Kermit taunts him as Benjicot swings around and begins to wrestle with the Tully boy.

You hadn’t lied when you told Benjicot that you’d never seen skills such as his. It was true, you think as you lie awake in your tent. You feel your face heat up as you think about the timid, yet brutal man. He fought without grace, he fought like a real warrior. None of that pansy dancing you’d seen around you growing up in King’s Landing.

You awake in the midst of the night to the sound of your dragon's calls. Something was wrong. Vermithor only ever made noises such as that when there was a threat evident. You rush outside, regretting not getting a cloak as it’s freezing in the dead of night wearing only a nightgown. You notice some of the men stepping out of their tents, sleep ridden eyes soon turning to determined anxiety. Benjicot steps out of his tent and you rush past him, almost knocking into him.

“Princess?” He questions before hearing the roar of a dragon overhead. Vhagar. You rush past him, grasping his arm gently and run up to Vermithor, who is undoubtedly concerned, climbing up him quickly, you command him to fly.

Before you can situate yourself, you hear Aemond.

“Dracarys”

Suddenly, the trees are ablaze and men on the ground begin to shoot arrows at Vhagar in hopes to weaken him. Commanding Vermithor forward behind Vhagar, you ready yourself.

“Dracarys!” You scream as Vermithor lets out a wall of fire onto Vhagar, Aemond, noticing, turns Vhagar around to attack. You quickly fly up in hopes of Aemond following, you turn your head to see him behind you, gaining on you.

As a last resort you make a hard right and when Vermithor flies close enough past him, you jump.

Landing on Vhagar’s tail, you begin to try and climb when Vhagar whips his tail around to shake you off. Your dragon, Vermithor, begins to shriek in despair that his rider had ‘fallen’ off. Vermithor, being a war dragon, circles behind Vhagar, before coming to the front of him and sinks his teeth into Vhagars neck. In the midst of this, you had climbed up his tail and when your dragon attacked, so did you.

Vhagar descends down, thick, gallons of fiery blood spewing from his neck as you and Aemond clamber about, trying to plunge your daggers into each other. Noting that Vhagar was descending into The Fork, you grasp onto Aemond and jump. You hear your dragon scream and screech in agony of losing his rider.

In your struggle as you and Aemond begin to fall to your descent, you plunge your dagger into his one good eye, and you let go of him.

You knew dying was a common occurrence, and you had been ready to die for your mother’s cause, but you hadn’t known it’d be so soon. You prepare yourself for the plunge into the deep, cold water of The Fork, and you hope your mother is proud of you for going down with a fight as you close your eyes.

You feel yourself fall as you try to slow your breathing, but before you can feel the hard slap of the cool water, you feel the hard slap of your stomach hitting a dragon saddle. Wrenching your eyes open, your head whips around as you grab onto scales to prevent yourself from falling. Vermithor. He had seen you falling. He came and he saved you from the terrible fate you were about to be bestowed upon. Vermithor flies up and begins to spit fire, unable to hide his joy at saving his rider as your eyes well up with tears that threaten to spill. After calming him down, you fly over where Vhagar and Aemond met their demise. You see Vhagar’s huge body float slowly over the river, but Aemond begins to sink down.

When you land back on the ground, cheering erupts from all around you. Everyone comes up to you and gives you their appreciation, some of the older Lords even ask for a betrothal between you and their sons from your stunt. Once the crowd dies down, and eventually disperses, you fail to see the one person who hadn’t come up to you yet. Benji. You walk around for a little in hopes to see him, but eventually you retire to your secluded tent farther from the rest of the men as they begin drinking at a fire.

Hoping to see him in the morrow, you enter your tent smoothing down your disgruntled nightgown before looking up. Your big, purple eyes meet his stormy brown ones and you make a noise of surprise. The two of you stare at each other, taking each other in for the first time. You notice his eyes hold that crazed look, but something else glosses over them. Love? Lust? You couldn’t tell. Your eyes meet with his before he quickly looks down at your lips. He takes a step forward and you meet him in the middle.

The kiss was sweet, a gentle, sensitive thing. Your hands tangle in his hair as one of his hands cradles your neck, the other coming down to squeeze your waist. You gasp in surprise and when he hears it, he smiles against your lips before gently meeting your tongue with his. Your thoughts are clouded with the thought of him, so much so, you completely forget your near death experience. Breaking apart for air, he leans his forehead against yours and whispers, “You’re mine, and I am yours.”

He leads you down to your futon in the tent and lays you down gently before pressing a loving kiss on your lips. Your mind is dazed with desire as your body begins to react to the growing bulge in his trousers. You rut up into him, not in control of your body, blinded by the feeling of his body being so close to yours. He laughs softly before asking, “Are you sure? If you want me to stop, just tell me.” Beginning to get irritated at the lack of attention to your body, you grab him by his hair and your lips meet in a searing kiss. He pulls your nightgown down your body with a featherlight touch, leaving you in only your shift. The cool air makes you shiver as you grab his tunic and shove it off of him. Your lips meet again, your mind going dumb. He pulls his trousers off, leaving him in only his breeches before taking your shift off in one motion. Laying bare in front of him, he feels his breeches tighten as he takes you in.

You begin to feel nervous as his full attention is on only you, and you’ve never laid with someone before.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He groans out, looking at you as if you’ve hung every star in the sky. You feel yourself grow impossibly wetter before he pulls his breeches down and leans down on his forearms on top of you. Your lips meet again for the umpteenth time and he begins to slowly rub his fingers through your slit, catching your slick. You moan out in pleasure, bucking your hips up when he pushes two of his fingers inside and groans. He pumps them in and out of you before adding a third finger, and you begin to feel a pressure building in your abdomen. You moan out in desperation when you feel his fingers leave you and you crack open your eyes that had been sealed shut.

“Well, aren’t you needy?” He purrs before taking his slick covered fingers and shoving them in his mouth. You moan at the sight and let your head fall against your pillow. Suddenly, you feel him hovering over you and something prodding at your entrance. Slowly guiding it in, you both moan out in ecstasy. The stretch is insane, if you hadn’t been so aroused, you’d say it hurt. Once it’s fully sheathed in, you wriggle around, drunk off the pleasure of it all. Benji lets you adjust to his size before slowly rocking into you.

“Benji.. Please” You moan out in pleasure. His eyes darken, as if he had just won a battle and he begins to slam into you. You mewl out sounds as he grunts and groans. Your abdomen begins to tighten and your legs begin to uncontrollably shake. His thrusts get messier, before the white, hot pleasure rips through you. You hear Benji groan on top of you before his thrusts get deeper and faster, overstimulating you. He grabs onto one of your breasts, softly massaging it while his lips connect with your other peak. Your womb is suddenly coated, and you feel the beautiful feeling of being stuffed full.

Benji collapses on top of you, his head on your bare chest as you pull the blanket up over you two. You run a hand through his sweaty hair and he looks up at you with love in his eyes.

“Please, please, come home with me when this war is over. Let me love you for the rest of our days.” He practically begs and you make no objection. Kissing him softly as one of your hands holds his head and the other rests on the necklace your mother gave you.

hope you guys liked it!!

#hotd x reader #hotd #house of the dragon #benjicot blackwood x reader #benjicot blackwood #davos blackwood #house targaryen #team black

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lxkeee · 1 year ago

Text

MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE

pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x angel! fem! reader

fandom: Hazbin Hotel

genre: semi-angst

notes: will probably make more parts to this if anyone wants me to

PART TWO | PART THREE

Lucifer paced back and forth in his chambers, avoiding the piles of rubber ducks as he anxiously bit his nails. He had just opened the portal for his daughter to enter heaven for a meeting. He never felt this much fear in his whole life, he's worried for her daughter—he fears the higher beings would crush her the same way they had crushed him.

“I am sure she'll be fine...” he mutters, his eyes landing on the picture frame of him and charlie that's on his table—beside his newly created fire breathing rubber duck. It's not fine, Charlie is his pride and joy. He wants to preserve her smile and shelter her but she's a grown woman now and he regrets missing out on her life as he was busy wallowing in self pity.

Lucifer's shoulders hung low as he let out a long and tired sigh, his legs brought him to the balcony of his chambers, grabbing his newly made fire breathing rubber duck in the process, pushing the doors open and leaning against the railings, placing the duck on the railings. “Now that I've thought about it, I made so many regrets in life.” he mutters sadly, his eyes gazing at the smoke filled skies of hell. He couldn't see any stars or moon. He remembers when he was still up there, always gazing up in the sky with, “[y/n]....” says sadly. She was the only angel who believed in him, who agrees with him. They were best friends, he used to fly around the skies with her. She was one of the first few angels God created, he is one of those angels of course. His the one that got away.

“....and with that, I think humans should have free will, they shouldn't be stuck following so many rules.” Lucifer mutters, avoiding the gaze of his best friend, “I know, you probably think it's idiotic to think like tha—” his voice was cut off as the girl beside him placed a shushing finger over his lips. His wings fluttered from the contact of her skin against his lips, cheeks heating up slightly. “Don't think like that, your dreams for mankind are amazing and I agree, too many rules aren't fun.” [y/n] giggles softly as she removes her finger away from his lips.

At that moment, Lucifer was able to gaze at her smiling face. Her three pairs of wings flutter behind her—so warm whenever she hugs him, her hair perfectly framing her face—so soft to touch, the golden halo on top of her head—like a crown, her beautiful smiling face—especially her lips, he wonders what it feels like against his own. Oh god, he's falling for her isn't he?

Lucifer shakes his head, he shouldn't be thinking inappropriate thoughts about her. He just composed himself and pretended his golden heart isn't pounding so hard against his ribcage.

Lucifer laughs softly, gazing at the city of hell. “I wonder what would've happened if I didn't back out of my confession that day, she looked excited too..” he wonders.

“[y/n], can I please talk to you... Alone.” Lucifer nervously says as he looked at the female angel before him, he had to take a deep breath in hopes of his beating heart to calm down for a second or else he'll end up with a heart attack. “Oh? You needed me for something?” she asked him gently with a smile, he would've responded “I needed you in my life” if he had the confidence, “I just needed to talk to you, that's all.” He answered meekly and [y/n] was worried because he seemed nervous, she nodded and followed him to an area where there were no other angels.

“Is there something wrong?” [y/n] asked him softly, holding his hands. Her hands were soft against his own. He avoided her gaze and he could hear his heart thumping loudly in his chest. This is it. “I just wanted to tell you that...” he pauses, voice shaking. [Y/n] looked at him expectantly, “that I like you...” he continued and her eyes widened, her cheeks heating up slightly, her heart beating loudly too unknowingly to Lucifer but the poor man misunderstood her reaction and quickly panicked, “to be safe out there when you do your roundly checks on the Garden of eden.” he finishes quickly and nervously.

“I couldn't forget her reaction, she looked so disappointed.” Lucifer mutters with a sad chuckle as he remembers how her face fell in slight disappointment. He didn't know why back then and it took him years to realize that she wanted him to confess. “I am such an idiot, right?” he says and looks at the rubber duck beside him. No response.

Even though he regrets not confessing as he planned that day, even though a part of him wished the outcome was different. He would've been happy with [y/n] but part of him is thankful he didn't, because if he did, Charlotte wouldn't be here.

Speaking of Charlotte, he is now back to worrying for her. “I spent my time thinking about my past love when my daughter is up there talking to them!” he exclaimed, running his fingers through his blond hair. He hopes someone is kind enough to help his daughter up there.

Unknown to him, a certain angel he was just recalling is currently talking to his daughter up in the skies and showing her around.

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer magne #lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #hazbin hotel lucifer

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readychilledwine · 1 month ago

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can we have rhysand with an emotional reader again? maybe meetings made her feel unsupported

A Heavy Burden

Summary - After a long day of tense negotiations, Rhysand finds his wife wondering if this all was worth it.

Warnings - mental health, implied misunderstanding and communication, implied Azriel was illiterate fan theory, slight misogynistic thing when you consider the places reader was dealing with

A/n - Slowly but surely, you all are about to see the mass amount of things I have queued from old and new requests. All almost 48 and counting of them 🫠 2025 goals include getting better at getting to what is sent to me faster, along with finding a better system for requests so I'm maybe only working with 5 at a time instead of pressuring myself to put out requests instantly.

✨️Rhysand Masterlist✨️Master Masterlist✨️

The clanging of your crown in the marbled floor was the first thing that caught Rhysand's attention. The second was you sitting on the balcony in your dress, in the middle of a cold night, just being still. Today had been, for a lack of better terms, a nightmare.

Your proposal for remodeling the Illyrian camps had been met with conflict and comments regarding if you truly had power.

Your proposal for creating a shelter system for females and children in Hewn City was met with questions of your status and abilities.

Your family dinner at home hadn't even been safe from remarks from the Inner Circle that he knew had you questioning how they saw you.

He shouldn't have been surprised by you doing this by tossing the symbol of your power aside like it was nothing. Your ideas were frequently met with debate, tension, and sometimes, his advisors screaming like children at each other. As a test, you once had him present the idea you had for it. It had been met with excitment until the passing of the paprrs was signed and stamped by you.

You had a habit of smiling in the face of adversity. Taking a gentle approach instead of using the authority he had given you. You had become the kindness to his image of cruelty. A match many felt was odd but truly made by the Cauldron for balance. You shouldered it all well, but even you, his strong wife, had a breaking point.

Rhys moved with near silence to you, lowering himself behind you and knowing it was serious this time when you didn't make a joke over his knees popping. “Talk to me,” he murmured as he pulled you to him, wings appearing to wrap around you as if they were a shield.

You only sighed, chin resting on your knees, “I feel insufficient. I feel like no one believes in me. I feel like I'm just here as a glorified placeholder.”

Rhysand hummed, kissing the skin of your bare shoulder, “What about today do you feel made you feel that way?”

“How everything I purposed for the two areas begging the most for change was met. Illyria acknowledges that the camps are rundown. I purpose a cycle of upgrades, funded by us, by the way, that would allow the camps to be safer, warmer, and have more resources. I am told I don't understand Illyrians and what the camps need despite my plans being based on the needs given to Cassian and I.”

You took a breath, eyes shutting to relax and fight tears before continuing. “When we then spend the second portion of our day in Hewn City. I am addressing the so-called concern for female and children resources. It is meant with your uncle screaming at a more forward moving male that I'm powerless. I have no clue what females need, which is odd since I am one. Then, lastly, my proposals do not matter.”

Rhys nodded, nose buried in your hair to calm himself at the memory of everything, “Then we come home and instead of being met with support-”

“Our family tells me I need to take my heart out of things and start acting like a ruthless High Lord and stop offering mercy. That that is the only way fae will ever actually respect me."

“Thus attacking your character when you were already in a fragile state and needing support instead of, well, we will call it constructive criticism, though, I know it did not feel that way.” His voice was soft in your ear, offering that comfort you had been seeking. “And, y/n, your heart does not need to be taken out of the conversation. Your heart is why I pursued you. It's why we are married. Why I didn't care a mating bond had landed into place yet. Your heart chose me. It is precious to me. It belongs in the decisions we, as High Lord and Lady, make.”

Another soft kiss was placed on your shoulder. Then the nape of your neck, pressing in as if he could make every nerve in your body calm down with just the strength of his love. “I will handle Azriel and Amren,” he assured you. “Though, I do suspect Azriel realized his comment came across much harsher than intended.”

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, “He's 538 years old. He's been with you all and consistently speaking and socializing for over 525 years. He shouldn't continue to be coddled for his childhood illiteracy and lack of social understanding, especially when we hold a barely 21 year old Feyre to higher standards.”

You felt his shift, the deep sigh as his forehead touched the back of your neck, “He doesn't mean to be harsh with you. Please consider what he does for a living, who he is normally dealing with.”

You nodded, “But he also needs to consider time and place then.”

“He knows, trust me.” You did chuckle at that, knowing your husband was more than likely being yelled at for access to you. His calloused hand moved into the dip of your dress, stopping once it rested over your heartbeat. “This is the most beautiful thing in my world. The most important thing.” He subconsciously synced his breathing to yours, only content once the two of you were in harmony. “I know a heart can be a heavy burden, darling. I know it seems easier to shut it out right now. I know it feels like you should become more cold. I know you're hurting.”

The tears began then. Your thumb moving to wipe them away, “I just feel wearing my heart on my sleeve is counterproductive to what the Court needs-”

“The court needs more of it, actually,” he immediately stopped you, knowing where this was going. “The court as a whole needs more care and heart, Y/n. Change begins when one person cares enough to push for it, and even the smallest stone will make ripples. You have inspired me to take better control of Illyria and Hewn City. You have inspired countless in Velaris to work to help the Court's lower income families. You have inspired my heart, my darling.”

He pulled you impossibly closer, “Be glad of your big heart, y/n. Pity those who don't feel anything at all." One last soft kiss touched the back of your neck. “Come bathe with me. Let's wash today away.”

The idea had your body already relaxing as he stood, knees popping again. “Old ass male.” And there it was. A sign of you. A sign you would be okay. A sign you would fight.

“Cruel little thing,” he purred back. “Mocking my war injuries.” He pulled you up before a tendril of darkness and starlight handed him your crown. “Put this back on. You dropped it.”

#elizabeths.updates #send asks #send anons #acotar #acotar x reader #rhys acotar #rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #rhys x you #rhysand x you #rhysand x y/n #rhys x y/n #acotar x you #rhysand fanfiction

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inkskinned · 1 year ago

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crying because i call myself my dog's mom but i'm probably more like a sister to him and the way i love people is always spilling out over my hands in milk so yes i got told a lot you try too hard as a kid and i didn't know what that meant i just try to shove everything i care about under my wing and hold it there so every feather acts as an umbrella and if you're normal that's okay they'll say you're kind but if you're not normal it is a problem and someone who says they're an empath watched me fall down on the train and refused to give me the hand up

and yeah maybe i'm kind of bitter because every time i try to open up i only get to the bones of the thing before someone else takes up the whole room with meat and gristle and sparknotes of their own life painted in a pelt across my palms and just as i'm tryna clean up one mess another seems to pop up and it's really difficult to explain to your therapist that the problem is that you are too aware of the problem and that you keep fucking up and it's really difficult to explain to your partner i have no faith in the concept of love and life is a lot of sliding down these days, turn my body ice and moth, and that's okay! i am broken upside down like an egg and i am going to love you like an explosion and a star and a fucking galaxy! i'm gonna be too much

because god forbid you feel like me! god forbid you know what it's like! holy shit, god forbid. i'm gonna love you because i didn't get love. i'm gonna love you because otherwise the world is too cruel. i only live in the dark. maybe i'm a martyr. i think it's more like - i need to be right about this, about hope and trying and community. i'm going to be right about this, even if i need to set myself on fire to procure the warmth. come take it then, come latch on. i need you to be okay so someone is okay. so there's a reason i was born. i need it to work. i need to be shelter. a lighthouse. endlessly giving more.

i need to be. holy shit, god forbid. i can't live in a world that's only storm.

#this doesn't make any sense <3

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yanderecrazysie · 2 months ago

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A Dragon's Hoard Part 1 (Yandere! Malleus)

Title: A Dragon’s Hoard (Part 1)

Pairings: Yandere! Malleus Draconia x Reader

AU: My Fantasy AU

WARNINGS: yandere themes

Notes: Malleus's story was voted for first! (BY A LOT) So here you go!

Part 2: here

Mt. Diasomnia’s peak pierced the night sky, cutting the full moon in half. As intimidating as the impossibly tall mountain was, it symbolized hope for you. There were plenty of caves to hide in and a surrounding forest for hunting.

If any place would hide you from King Riddle’s court, it would be this mountain. After all the rules you had broken, the king of the fae would surely clip your wings permanently if you were found. You were a hunted woman so the sooner you disappeared the better.

You spread your transparent wings and took flight. The wind was strong tonight, lifting you higher and higher. The freedom of flying was intoxicating and, for a moment, you allowed yourself to forget the weight of your circumstances.

But then the memory of King Riddle’s cold stare cut through your mind, as sharp as a blade. “Rulebreaker”, he had called you in such a cold voice. You might as well be a traitor to your kind.

The mountain loomed over you as you scanned it for any sign of shelter. A sudden gust of wind caught you and threw you off course for a moment. You gasped as you realized it wasn’t the elevation making the air unpredictable, but magic.

Your wings faltered- you knew this feeling. This was ancient magic, the same used in the time of The Great Ones. Something powerful was stirring inside this mountain. Still, there was no turning back. This was your only hope.

You spotted a wide, dark mouth of a cave yawning above a set of cliffs. You folded your wings and descended towards it. As soon as you set foot inside, a series of chills ran down your spine. It was cold and the air was strangely still. You could hear the sound of dripping water and took that as a good sign.

A faint green glow, barely visible at first, pulsed from the darkness deep within the cave. Something’s here… But anything was better than the fae court finding you, so you pressed on despite the fear rising slowly within you.

You stopped walking suddenly, your heart stopping altogether. A tall figure emerged from the shadows, two glowing, emerald eyes locked on you, piercing through the darkness and causing an otherworldly glow.

“You trespass upon my mountain,” the figure’s deep voice rumbled like thunder.

He stepped into full view and you gasped. He was much taller than you, draped in dark robes, with black horns that rose from his head like a crown.

A dragon in humanoid form!

You couldn’t move, couldn’t say anything, couldn’t breathe.

A knowing smile curled on his lips, “What have we here? A little fae, wandering into my domain?”

You opened your mouth to speak- to apologize maybe- but no words came out. He began to close the distance between you.

“Tell me,” he said as he drew close, “What brings a rulebreaker to my mountain?”

You flinched like you’d been slapped, “How did you-”

“I know many things,” he hummed.

You stumbled backwards, trying to get away from his approaching form, your wings twitching as if you were about to take flight. But for some reason, you couldn’t move.

He raised a hand and a ribbon of green magic slithered towards you, curling around your wrist like a snake. “You don’t need to be afraid. I will not harm you. On the contrary…” his voice was like silk, “I offer you my protection.”

“Protection?” Stunned, you stopped trying to back away.

“Yes,” he stepped closer until you were forced to look up, “In exchange for something small.”

“What is it?” you asked, voice trembling.

“Companionship.”

You tilted your head in confusion, staring at the mysterious man. Companionship? Is he serious?

“You are hunted, are you not?” he asked, “King Riddle’s court will find you eventually. Unless, of course, you accept my offer.”

You hesitated, looking down at your hand, which was encircled with green magic, “What is this for, then?”

“Proof of our agreement,” he replied, “If you agree, I will mark your wrist with the symbol of a promise.”

“I…” This mysterious stranger had ancient magic, perhaps the only thing that would keep you from being taken in to King Riddle and losing your wings. If companionship was all you had to offer… “I agree.”

There was a sudden pain on the back of your hand and you cried out in pain. The green magic tendril retracted and a strange green symbol was left glowing faintly on the back of your hand. It reminded you faintly of a dragon.

“It is done,” he said simply, “You are now under my protection. None shall harm you.”

“And what does this companionship… entail?” you asked.

A faint smile tugged on his lips, “It is simple- you stay with me, here on Mt. Diasomnia. You speak with me on a daily basis and you do not leave without my consent.”

Your wings fluttered instinctively at the last part, but you nodded. It was a fair trade- if anything, you were getting the better end of the deal.

“You may call me Malleus,” he said, inclining his head, “I am the Dragon Prince.”

“I’m…” Giving your name to someone with such powerful magic was dangerous, but you couldn’t hide it forever, “(Y/n).”

“A fine name,” Malleus said. He gestured deeper in the cave, “Come. I will show you to your quarters. You must be tired from your flight.”

You hesitated, glancing back toward the cave’s entrance. It was almost as dark as the inside of the cave. What was waiting for you, if you were to change your mind? Endless rules? The promise of clipped wings?

With a deep breath, you turned away and followed Malleus deeper into the cave. Somehow, the cave grew warmer the deeper you went. Green crystals jutted out of the walls, casting magical light over the two of you and vibrating your wings with energy.

“This is my sanctuary,” Malleus told you, “Few have set foot here. Consider it an honor.”

The cave opened into a massive chamber with stone walls lined with shelves. Ancient artifacts gleamed under the green light, most of which you’d never seen before. But what was truly amazing was the hoard. Piles of golden coins and gemstones reached towards the ceiling. Silver cups and golden crowns and all sorts of treasure littered the area around a huge, golden throne.

A smaller alcove off to the side held a simple white bed. “That will be your space,” Malleus said, “You will find it comfortable.”

“Thanks…” you said softly. You looked back at the gold towers and watched them shimmer in the green light.

“All dragons have a hoard, little one,” Malleus said. Something about the way he said it made you shiver. His tone softened as he continued, “Sleep now, I won’t keep you from your rest. We will speak more in the morning.”

You hesitated for a long moment, watching him return to his throne, before finally retreating to the alcove. The bed was indeed comfy and, overwhelmed by the day’s events, you fell asleep quickly.

Even with the pain on the back of your hand.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere one shot #one shot #twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere malleus #malleus draconia

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thoughts-of-bear · 11 months ago

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The birthday gift

A Halsin x reader fanfiction | Explicit, 18+ | 7k words A/N: Okay since the Halsin brainrot has had its hold on me for ages, I started this fic on my birthday in december, not expecting to ever finish it because I have literally never finished anything I've started writing before- until now. I got inspired to write this by this post (for the birthday part, the smut part is my own horny imagination) and well, this is the final product. Since it's my first time publishing any of my writing and writing smut at all, please be kind with me XD Summary: Your companions prepare a surprise birthday party for you, Halsin sees you in your new dress, you two dancing leads to him confessing his feelings for you and a very happy ending... CW: halsin x f!reader, virgin reader, halsin eating pussy, fingering, p in v sex, breeding, rough sex i guess, halsin being the man he is, all that stuff idk what to write here really

I hope you enjoy it, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3

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You and your companions had finally reached Baldur’s Gate. It’s still morning when you enter Rivington that day and the streets are busy with all kinds of people, many seemingly refugees from Elturel and farther away, here to find shelter in the city. As you continue down the road to the village in front of the city gates, you are stopped by a little red-headed girl.

“Erm. ‘Scuse me, I can’t find my mum.” She looks worn out and as if she has recently been crying.

“Where did you last see her?” you ask as you bend down to her, smiling to show you want to help.

“She went to go get some herbs - for her spots” she gestures towards her face. “She was sick. And she was supposed to come back the same day.” She pauses before adding, “That was last tenday though.”

“Let’s go find a guard. They’ll be able to help you”, you propose.

The girl shakes her head. “Guards blow like petards. They don’t help us.”

Your heart sinks at these words. It seems all these people were here because the city wouldn’t take them in. And the guards are no help either, apparently. You wonder what happened to your city, where once everyone was welcome.

Halsin sighs and shakes his head in disapproval. “This city is a poor place to be in need of help. Even the guards can’t be trusted to protect the most vulnerable.”

You silently agree and think of how you could help that girl. You decide to spare a few coins, so she can buy herself some food.

“I don’t know where your mum is, but here - take a few coins”, you offer her, not able to tell her that her mother is most likely dead. Halsin smiles at you warmly as you shoot him a quick glance, the sight making your heart skip a beat.

“Oh - erm. Thank you so much! I don’t have anything and you can’t do anything without any coin”, the little girl exclaims, bobbing on her toes and suddenly looking a little less tired. “I’ll pay you back. When I find my mum.” She turns around and bolts. “No need, it’s a gift!” you call after her but she has already vanished in the crowd.

You finally arrive at Wyrm’s Rock Crossing in the evening, after you had snuck past one of the new city guards - the so-called Steel Watch - and promised to investigate the murder of the local Ilmater priest. Another incident that seems to fuel the hate towards the refugees.

And that isn’t even all. The city is closed, even for you as a Baldurian, and to get in you’d need an Admission Pass - or wings. You sigh. You just want to get into the city, rent a room in the Elfsong and think about what to do next, now that the Absolute’s army must soon be upon the city.

It’s all too much and too little time. And you can’t just turn away from the people you met in Rivington either, they need help just as much as you need to find out how to beat the Absolute’s Chosen and get rid of the tadpoles.

When you make your way around camp that evening, checking up on your companions, Halsin notices your exhaustion, the way you slump your shoulders and how your usually impeccable stance falters. He wants to relieve you of at least a bit of the tension, so when you walk over to him, he offers you a massage. The things he wants to say to you can wait until tomorrow.

“Thank you, Halsin”, you accept, his hands turning you around and gently pushing you down to sit on your knees before him. You sigh as his broad hands knead the tension from your back and by the time he is finished, you feel like a sleepy, boneless lump of flesh, muscles completely relaxed. You thank Halsin again before you retire to your bedroll, the hopeful thought that the offer might’ve been more than Halsin’s usual kindness crossing your mind before you drift off to sleep.

The next evening, you were finally inside the city walls. You consider the new information of the day. How you got your hands on an invitation to the celebration at Wyrm’s rock fortress, your disbelief to see that it was Lord Gortash’s coronation as Arch Duke, how he made the tadpoled Duke Ravengard give up his power and how Bane’s Chosen then proposed an alliance against Orin, the shapeshifter that had already approached you in Rivington. You had agreed to kill her, but you definitely wouldn’t leave Gortash his Netherstone. But that is a problem for another day. You had managed to get a room in the Elfsong Tavern and as usual you make your way through it to hear what your companions think of all that had happened today. Most approve of your decision. Halsin is the last person you speak to and as always, he has just the right words to ease your worries. For now, at least.

“Wait-”, he grabs your arm before you can leave. “I didn’t thank you yet.” His large hand is warm and makes your skin tingle where it touches you.

“Thank me? For what?” He chuckles at your puzzled look. “For all that you did in Rivington yesterday. You have so many worries and yet you still go out of your way to help those in need. The way you made that little girl smile, or how you didn’t hesitate to investigate what happened to that Ilmater priest.” A blush creeps up your cheeks as he continues. “I’m afraid Nature’s balance can never be restored in a city like this, but seeing what you do every day without expecting anything in return gives me hope. And for that I thank you.” You smile up at him, lost for words with your heart beating fast.

“I appreciate you saying this. I wish I could to more, to help everyone, but if I can at least do a little good, it’s worth the exhaustion at the end of the day”, you eventually admit with a smile. Halsin grins. “You’re too modest. I wager you don’t even know how extraordinary you truly are.” Your cheeks blush an even deeper red at those words and only when you retire to bed for the evening does your heart resume its normal pace again. But the warm feeling Halsin’s presence gave you remained for the night.

After you had the first proper breakfast since your crash with the Nautiloid, you feel ready to explore the city and find out how to best deal with all your problems. You hadn’t particularly missed the bustle and noise of your old home, but you can’t help feeling safer now that you were in familiar surroundings again.

Gale proposed to go to Sorcerous Sundries, both to find out more about the Elderbrain’s crown and to see what the wizard there wants with your companion Nightsong. Since you don’t have an idea where to find Orin yet, you figure that this is as good as any other thing you could be doing.

The way from Elfsong to the magic shop isn’t far and you still have some time before it opens, so you decide to stop by the Baldur’s Mouth Gazette to update yourself on any news you had missed in your absence and struggle with the Absolute.

Scanning the title page, you notice the date in the corner and your brows shoot up in surprise. Noticing this, Gale asks if you found anything important in the newspaper.

“No, it’s just that I realised today is my birthday and I've completely forgotten about it. That means we have been on the road for more than two months already”, you wonder aloud before you add, “It doesn’t feel that long.”

“Well, then we have to celebrate of course!” Gale exclaims happily. You smile at his enthusiasm but shake your head. “We have bigger problems for now. Let’s see what this Lorroakan wants with Dame Aylin and then get on with our business. Besides,” you shrug, “we didn’t celebrate birthdays in my monastery anyways so I won’t miss anything.”

“If you say so,” Gale replies and you turn your attention back towards the page you were studying before.

You had already forgotten about the conversation as you come into your chamber in the Elfsong, grateful for the few minutes alone during the bath you had taken and the respite for your tired body.

But the moment you enter the room, Karlach and Shadowheart drag you to a set dinner table, laden with the most delicious food you could imagine. There aren’t your ordinary fish heads and the mouldy bread you usually have to call supper, instead delicious smelling pork roasts, pies, glazed carrots and potatoes, deep red apples and more pile atop the table, all lovingly placed around a huge flower bouquet in the middle of it.

You are so overwhelmed by the amount of work your friends must’ve put into this, that you can only stutter a ‘thank you’ before Karlach announces, “Happy birthday soldier! Halsin, Gale and Shadowheart here told us that today is your birthday and you never had a proper party before, so we decided to prepare you a little something!” With a grin she gestures from the table to one of the unoccupied beds, where a few packages are placed.

“You brought me presents too? You really didn’t have to!” you exclaim in surprise. You are so touched that your friends -among all the trouble- still found time to prepare the presents and this party for you that you feel tears well up in your eyes.

“Darling, no need to cry,” Astarion laughs as he pushes you onto your designated chair. “This is a party and not a funeral! Go ahead and enjoy yourself, it’s your special day after all!”

With a sniff and a small chuckle at Astarion’s words you sit down properly. He is right, of course, and you all clearly enjoy having a small break from the worries you faced at the moment.

Smiling hesitantly, you grab some meat and vegetables and start to eat - it really is delicious. You revel in the laughter and conversations with your friends, your weariness from todays fight forgotten for the moment.

When all of you can’t possibly eat any more, Karlach drags you over to the bed with the presents. You can tell she is excited to see if you like the few things your companions managed to get you in the time they had for preparing, so you start unpacking.

The first present contains a book on the monastery you were raised in, with a handwritten note from Gale:

“I’m sure you already know most information this book has to offer, but I thought it might still bring you comfort and remind you of home.” You thank him with a tight hug and carefully place the book into your bag.

The next package is a bottle of the finest liquor of the Elfsong Tavern, plus a sparkler for every one of your companions which Karlach sets of immediately.

Laughing at her shenanigans, you reach for the last and biggest present. It is wrapped in red paper and decorated with a little white bow. You wonder where your companions had managed to find all those things while you carefully pull the paper open. Soon a dress falls out of the packaging and you gaze at it in awe. Your fingers trace the deep forest green fabric, intricate silver and gold patterns weaved into it.

“This is beautiful, thank you, truly!” you say earnestly. You still can’t quite believe that all this should be for you. “I thought you would like it”, smiles Shadowheart. “And I’m certain it will suit you beautifully. Go now - try it on!” she urges you.

You walk to the bathroom which still smells of the quince-scented soap you had used for your bath a few hours before. While changing, you bask in that warm feeling in your chest these moments among your friends always grant you. Whatever problems you had encountered, in your opinion they have all been worth it just for the people you found and let into your heart along the way. As cheesy as that sounds.

You regard yourself in the mirror. The dress is cut low and close-fitting, capturing your cleavage in a very flattering way. Maybe too flattering, if you think about it too much. This isn’t something you’d usually wear, but you have to admit that you like the way the dress looks on you. A bit insecure you go back into your room, where you are greeted with approving cheers and whistles from your friends.

“You look absolutely stunning”, Shadowheart admires. “I knew it would look good on you! Turn around please”, she commands. You do what you are told, with red cheeks at the compliment.

When you face Shadowheart again, you notice Halsin gazing at you with pure admiration - and something else you can’t quite place. You think you notice a golden shimmer in his eyes, but that could be a trick of the light considering all the candles in the room.

“I must admit, your neck looks very tempting in that dress but I know someone who is a lot hungrier for you than me right now”, Astarion remarks with a wicked grin and a sideward glance. You frown at him, though you can’t help your heart skipping a beat at these words. Could he possibly mean Halsin?

“Now, what would a party be without some music and dance?” Wyll interrupts your thoughts and as if these words have summoned her, the bard the party had met in the druid grove appears in the doorway.

“Alfira!” you exclaim happily and immediately rush over to hug her. “I’m so glad you got to Baldur’s Gate alright!”

Alfira grins at you. “Yes, thanks to you and your friends here. When they reached out to me today and told me it was your birthday, I just had to come! Wyll organised everything.” You nod to him in thanks. “Now, I don’t have anything to give you but just tell me what you want to hear and I will play it for you!”

“Thanks, Alfira, that’s more than enough for me”, you beam and lead her into the room towards your group. “Wyll, now is your chance to show me your dancing!” You say as you take his hand and pull him into the middle of the room, then you grab Karlach and Gale and start to move to the tune Alfira started to play. Karlach swirls you around and Wyll shows you the dance moves from court, which -to be honest- remind you a bit of the mating dances you had seen with a few bird species.

Out of breath from all the dancing and laughing, you request a slower tune from the tiefling bard. You manage to persuade Shadowheart to put away her wine for a moment and start to waltz around the room with her. She is quite the good dancer and you wonder where she had learned it, with her being raised in a Sharran temple and everything.

At the next tune, you approach Halsin. With your head light from the wine, you have finally gathered the courage to ask him for what you have secretly thought about the whole time.

Still, you can feel your heart beating in your throat. “Erm…Halsin, w-would you honour me with a dance?” you eventually manage to mumble out shyly.

“Of course, little flower. Whatever your heart desires.” That particular heart skips a beat at his intimate tone. “Although you might wish you hadn’t asked me that once you’ve seen my dancing”, he adds with a chuckle as he takes your hand.

He leads you into the room and starts to swirl you around to the melody of Alfira’s lute. He definitely isn’t as graceful as Shadowheart but certainly not as bad as he has made it sound. But even if he’d had the dancing skills of a bugbear, you wouldn’t have noticed. His large and warm hand around your waist and the smile with which he regards you sends your pulse through the ceiling. His smell of pine and honey and fresh air intoxicates you and it is hard to keep your feet from getting tangled in your dress.

When he leans down to you, you have to remind yourself to keep breathing. “Before you go and mingle again, I still have a present for you. I wasn’t sure if you would even like it”, he admits, “but I have decided to give it to you anyways.” When the tune ends, he leads you to the space in your room where his bed stands and bends down to search his pack.

You think about how long it took you to realise how attracted you are to the druid as you admire his strong back before you. Of course, you have noticed his kindness and compassion and you have always marvelled at the way he drew strength from nature. But only since you had some kind of break these last days have you begun to understand the depth of your affection for the man before you. It runs deeper than mere friendship and the echo of his hands on your back have awoken a hunger inside you that only grows stronger the more you look at Halsin. How desperately you hope that he feels the same way about you…

When he stands up to turn around, you quickly brush away the thought that has sent the heat into your cheeks again.

“You’re the only one who knows of my secret passion”, he begins jokingly, “so I thought you might accept this as my present for your special day.” He hands you a small whittled duck he has apparently made in the hours you were away from camp. You can’t help but tear up at the thought of how much effort he has put into all the details he has carved. There are even small webbed feet on the underside of the little duck.

“Thank you Halsin, this is an amazing gift!” You smile down at the little duck. “You are amazing”, you add quietly.

“With all that you have done for me, I should be the one thanking you night and day.” As you look into his eyes again you see that his gaze is now very solemn. “There was another reason for wanting to speak to you privately. I have lived a very long time. I have taken many lovers. My heart does not stir lightly. But it does now.” Your heart flutters in recognition of his words, the confession sending sparks across your skin.

“I want more than to fight at your side, or to sit around the campfire with you. I want to lay with you under the stars and feel your skin against mine.” Halsin’s gaze on you is intense, filling your chest with a burning heat that slowly spreads lower into your belly, as if the wine you have been drinking suddenly caught on fire inside of you.

Halsin continues, “I think you feel the same way - but tell me I’m wrong and the matter can rest. I do not wish to sour our friendship, but I have to know if it can be something more.”

You stare at him for a moment before you realise that he waits for your answer.

“Y-you’re not wrong, far from it”, you whisper. “I would like that very much.” You smile up at him and he takes your hand in his.

“May I kiss you?” he breathes out, relieved. You nod and he bends down to gently press his lips on yours.

His hand slides up your arm and to your back while he places his other behind your head, gently pulling you closer and deepening the kiss.

You feel his tongue prodding at your lips, demanding entrance and you happily oblige. The feeling of his soft lips on yours sends you spiralling and you can’t stifle the small moan that escapes you. Halsin sends out a silent prayer to Silvanus - if that is all it takes to make you moan, what sounds do you make when he finally gets to taste you? Groaning, his hand on your back slowly wanders lower, a silent question of permission in his eyes. You press your body against his as an answer, feeling the heat radiating off his chest … and lower.

Halsins hand grips your ass firmly, making you gasp, the other joining in and hoisting you up on his hips, turning you both around and pressing your back to the wall. You cannot stop the surprised squeak that escapes your lips at the sudden movement and Halsin presses his mouth on yours to stifle it.

The feeling of the growing bulge in his pants between your legs and the low moan Halsin utters before kissing you even more vigorously sends a shiver down your spine, pressure starting to build between your thighs.

In a desperate attempt to pull him closer, your hands grip Halsin’s hair, arms, everything you can reach. But before you can lose yourself in him, Halsin releases your lips, panting, and rests his forehead against yours.

“I would very much like to continue”, he whispers, his breathing ragged and voice hoarse with desire, “but the others will expect us back and I think you would probably like a bit more privacy.” He sighs and softly kisses your hair. “I will come to your bed when the party has ended, little flower. But don’t expect much sleep”, he adds with a wicked grin. You can only nod as he gently props you back on your feet.

With your head spinning, you get back to the others, averting your eyes from the knowing smirks of Astarion and Shadowheart noticing your ruffled hair and flushed cheeks. You ignore them, trying to engage in some more conversation and one or two dances while the thought of what awaits you won’t leave your head.

When the last of the party finally bids you goodnight, you hurry to bed, awaiting Halsin. You can’t get away from the echoes of his hands on your body, heart already racing again and warmth blooming in your belly. Even if he hadn’t promised you he’d come tonight, you would’ve been unable to sleep.

A soft rustle next to your ear startles you from your thoughts and as you turn your head, you could make out Halsin’s large figure in the dark, crouching beside your bed.

He cuts you off from what you wanted to say by placing a finger on your mouth, his other hand sliding under your back and pulling you into an upright position. With your heart beating into your throat, you take the hand Halsin offers as he gently beckons you to follow him into the corridor outside of the room the party shares, then further into a small but cosy bedroom on the next floor.

The door closes with a click and before you can say anything, Halsin sweeps you up into his arms, pressing you flat against the door and capturing your lips in a kiss that feels like it burns you from the inside.

Halsin’s fresh, earthy scent floods your senses as your tongues intertwine and your hands find their way into his hair, tugging at his braids. You whine when Halsin lets go of your lips, only to gasp as he starts nibbling and placing searing kisses on your jaw while his hands squeeze your ass firmly, bringing your bodies as close together as possible.

You moan at the growing ache between your thighs but plant your small fists against his shoulders anyway, gently pushing him away a bit. Halsin’s eyes, pupils wide and dark with desire, find yours.

“What is it my heart?” he asks, voice hoarse. “Do you want me to stop?” You see no disappointment in his gaze, only worry and your heart swells at how selfless your lover is. You avert your eyes, suddenly embarrassed to tell what troubles you.

“I- I j-just wanted t-to say that … um … well, I- I have never been with someone before”, you mumble eventually, averting your gaze as you blush furiously.

“Silvanus, preserve me”, Halsin groans out before almost dropping you and stumbling backwards, trying to steady himself on the small desk opposite the bed. With wide eyes you regard what is happening before you. Halsin drops to his knees, a deep animalistic growl coming from his lips as his eyes fill with golden light and he transforms into his huge bear form.

You gasp and nearly trip over your feet in an attempt to make room for the bear before you, but the animal fills almost the entire chamber. After finally regaining his composure, Halsin manages to change back into his elf form, with a snarl and a ragged breath coming from his lips.

“Forgive me. I- lost the run of myself.” He shakes his head in disgust at his outbreak, terrified that he has ruined this precious moment with you before it could properly begin, and slowly gets back to his feet. “Sometimes, when blood runs hot enough, it’s difficult to tame the beast. And the thought of you trusting me enough to share your first time with me … well, you saw what happened”, he smiles tentatively, slowly approaching you again with hesitation in his eyes.

“Don’t apologise”, you assure him with a shy smile. “I like it.” If possible, you blush even harder now. “Maybe for another time…?” you add, fidgeting nervously with the front of your dress.

A relieved grin spreads over Halsin’s face. “You like it..?”, he chuckles. “You are full of surprises, little flower.” As he steps forward, he bends down to gently plant a kiss on your cheek, only to proceed to bite at your earlobe which elicits a delicious moan from you.

“I’m glad you think so, but now you’ve made it even harder for me not to outright devour you”, his low voice whispers in your ear. “Nevertheless, I will be gentle. Or at least I’ll try to be.” You swallow hard, arousal sending shivers down your spine.

Halsin’s arms wrap around your waist again as he kisses your jaw, your forehead and nose, until eventually his lips find yours again, his tongue ravaging you like a man starving. His hands, this time directly shoving under your dress, firmly grip your thighs. He ruts against you, growling, his now rock-hard cock pressing against the confinements of his clothing.

His fingers trail higher up, kneading your ass, then stroking the soft skin of your back before slowly wandering even higher. His touch sends jolts through your body and you can feel the heat between your legs, already nearly too much to bear.

His eyes hold an unspoken question and when you nod, Halsin lifts your dress off and brings his mouth down on one of your breasts, the hand that’s not on your back now gently kneading the other, massaging the hardened nipple between his fingers. You mewl at the sensation, impossibly more pressure building between your thighs. Halsin gently bites down at your breast, only to run his tongue over it afterwards to soothe the mark he made. You moan and arch your back, desperately trying to press closer against Halsin’s still overly clothed erection, wanting to feel everything of him.

He growls and his mouth begins to place kisses down your front, between your breasts, on the soft flesh of your belly until he is on his knees before you, his warm breath fanning over you and flooding you with heat.

“More?” he asks, his pupils blown wide with lust, as his thumbs brush the soft skin between your legs. “Please”, you whine, knees almost too weak to stand and your underwear already embarrassingly soaked.

Halsin wastes no time, pressing kisses on the insides of your thighs, his one hand holding you in place and his other slowly -too slowly- sliding your panties down your legs. The sight of you bare and dripping with need before him almost makes him lose control again, makes him want to take you, devour you, fuck you, mark you and then fill you to the brim with his cum but with a groan he wills himself to calm down and be gentle with you. He won’t hurt you. He won’t.

He exhales deeply, lifting one of your legs up and slowly swiping his tongue through your wet folds, which earns him a choked gasp. His nose nudges your clit as his tongue starts stroking, slowly at first, then faster and with more pressure. You can’t help the way each expert swipe of his tongue makes your hips buck into his mouth as countless moans and sighs fall out of your mouth. Halsin growls in response, the vibrations around your sensitive bud making your legs shake. You can barely keep up and the coil in your belly is tightening ever faster with Halsin’s mouth sucking your clit and his tongue inside you.

“You are sweeter than honey, my heart”, he groans as his tongue presses flat against you. “Let me taste you as you come undone on my tongue.” With your mind clouded with lust, all you can do is moan out Halsin’s name and press yourself further against your lover’s mouth.

He understands anyway, now slowly dragging a thick finger through your dripping folds until he stops, teasingly pressing against your entrance. You whine, begging him to fill you, to do anything to release the overwhelming pressure between your thighs. When he finally thrusts into you, you can’t stifle the cry of pleasure that escapes your mouth. With Halsin’s finger now working your cunt open, his mouth continues its ministrations, licking and sucking your clit, soaking your legs with your slick.

With a wicked grin, Halsin inserts a second finger into your quivering hole, pushing inside over and over again, holding you firmly in place as you try to writhe away from the intense pleasure. His fingers coil upwards in response, hitting a spot inside you that makes you see stars.

“Please Halsin…”, you beg, toes curling and legs shaking, “I’m close- I- Oh!“

Moaning into your cunt, Halsin picks up his pace, his fingers pumping in and out of you as his tongue swipes over your clit again and again, bringing you closer to your end.

One more thrust with his fingers and a soft nip of his teeth against the sensitive bud between your legs is all it needs to send you spiralling over the edge. “Ha- Halsin!” you cry out, hips jerking violently and fingers digging into his shoulders as your orgasm hits you with the force of a lightning bolt. He moans at the sensations of your walls contracting around his fingers, the urge to take you and feel you squeeze his cock with your needy cunt almost overwhelming him.

You whine when he pulls his fingers out and stands up, bringing you in for a passionate kiss as you still struggle to regain your breath. Tasting yourself on Halsin’s tongue pulls a small moan from you and an embarrassed heat creeps up your back at the thought of how aroused you already are again.

With a smile, Halsin pulls away. “You are amazing, little flower”, he whispers breathlessly as he picks you up and gently places you on the bed, admiring your flushed body.

If Halsin’s tongue hadn’t just turned your mind to goo, you might have been able to return that compliment, but alas-

“May I go further?” Halsin asks and when you nod he swiftly discards of his clothes, you licking your lips at the sight of the elf naked before you. Your eyes take in his form, from his muscled arms down to the soft curve of his belly and- oh gods. Your eyes widen. You didn’t think he would be that big and the thought of him filling you makes you gulp down a mixture of fear and arousal.

Attentive as always, Halsin notices your insecurity and bends down to press gentle kisses against your ear. “We don’t have to do this, my heart…”, he whispers while he rubs soothing circles into your hips. He looks at you, his expression earnest. You bite your lip, thinking for a moment before answering. “N-no, I want this”, you assure him, your voice still weak but pleading now. The way you look so sweet with your little fangs on your lips makes Halsin feral and he kisses you again, desperate and more passionate this time. He groans into the kiss as he gently spreads your legs for him, lining up his tip with your dripping slit and sliding through your soft folds before stopping just at your entrance. The sensation of his hard length so close to entering you is enough to make your head fall back, eyes squeezed shut. “If it’s getting too much, tell me and I will stop immediately”, he whispers soothingly. “Now relax for me, little flower.”

All thoughts leave your head as Halsin slides in, agonizingly slow. The stretch would be painful if your lover hadn’t prepared you so thoroughly beforehand, but now you only feel pure bliss. Raising your head, you can see that he isn’t even halfway in but gods, you feel so full already that you can’t stifle the choked gasp that escapes your throat.

“You’re doing so well, my heart. Just a little bit more- mngh-!“ Halsin’s growl sends jolts through your spine as he finally bottoms out. You can see just how much effort it takes him to hold back by the way his jaw tenses and his chest is heaving.

“By Silvanus, you’re so tight-!“ A shiver crawls down his back, carrying a wave of soft golden light with it, as Halsin’s eyes light up with his magic for a moment. The thought of how you are able to bring your lover to the precipice of losing control is extremely flattering and you feel yourself clenching around Halsin’s cock, making him grunt in response. Finally somewhat accustoming to his size, you arch your back into the mattress below you. The new angle makes you moan in pleasure as you grip the sheets for support.

“Are you still feeling good, little flower?”, Halsin asks as he slides a hand from your hip under your back to support you. You can only form one thought. “More- please Halsin!” you whine desperately. You don’t have to ask twice, with a low growl he slides out - just to knock the breath out of you with his first, hard thrust. He sets a steady pace, one that leaves you moaning and gasping out his name. Halsin takes your small hands into his, pressing them into the bed beside you to pin you down, pushing into you deep and slow while he places bites and kisses on your throat and chest that will surely leave marks come morning.

Gods, Halsin thought. The sight of your small body sprawled beneath him, split apart by his thick cock while he fucks into you relentlessly is driving him insane. He is growling with every thrust now and each one of them makes you cry out in pleasure. It doesn’t take long until he has you on the precipice of release again, your cunt fluttering around Halsin’s length.

“H- halsin- please! I’m so close!” you can only beg, not sure if you can take much more, your body feeling like it might explode. “Come for me, my heart”, Halsin demands in a gravelly voice before pressing a thumb to your clit, rubbing and massaging until his name leaves your lips in a hoarse cry as your orgasm hits you with full force. Your hips jerk upwards, walls clenching around Halsin as you notice the tears from the overwhelming pleasure streaming down your face. He continues to pound into you, prolonging your release and muttering praises for you under his breath.

Through the fog in your mind you wonder how Halsin still has the energy to keep going, his pace unwavering while you are completely spent, gladly accepting whatever your lover has to give you as long as you’re not required to move.

So, you do not see it coming when Halsin suddenly pulls out of you, the unexpected emptiness making you whine in displeasure, only for him to flip you over and press your chest into the soft bedding while he gently raises your hips.

“I know it’s a lot right now but I need you to cum for me one more time, my heart”, Halsin huffs with a strained voice, pushing inside you once more and grabbing a fistful of your hair to keep you in place. The new position lets him slide even deeper than before and you can’t help the strangled cry that leaves you when Halsin starts pounding into you again, hitting a spot that makes your eyes roll back with blinding pleasure.

“’s too much- please-!” you sob, your poor overstimulated clit still trying to recover from the last orgasm. But Halsin doesn’t relent and you can feel sharp pricks on your hips where his hand grips you, fingers partially wild-shaped into claws and his head thrown back in ecstasy. Seeing just how feral you drive him makes your hole clench around his shaft, the squeeze causing his hips to stutter as a grunt leaves his lips. “Silvanus preserve me”, Halsin pants as he fucks into you even faster, “if you keep squeezing me like that I will not be able to stop myself from claiming you completely, from making you mine and filling you up with my seed.”

You whimper at the image of Halsin pumping his cum into you, fucking it deep into your womb until he is sure that it has taken hold. You cannot pretend you haven’t thought about it before, the idea usually sending an embarrassed heat into your cheeks, but now - gods, now you needed it.

Completely breathless you moan, “Halsin I- ah-! please-! Fill me with your cubs!” These words were the last needed for Halsin to lose himself completely in you, driving himself into you with punishing strokes that cause you to arch yourself into him while moans and whispered curses fall from both your lips. The coil in your stomach is so tight again and when Halsin takes the hand from your hip to softly press on your lower belly you see stars. Your walls clench around Halsin’s cock and you feel him twitch inside you, a sign that he too is close to release. All it takes to send you over the edge is his finger pressed against your clit, your body shaking violently beneath him, toes curling, while waves of ecstasy course through you and you cry out his name.

With a last snap of his hips and a low moan, Halsin comes as well, twitching cock releasing hot spurts of cum inside your still fluttering walls. He continues to pump into you until the aftershocks of your shared orgasm have subsided, before he slowly pulls out. You collapse onto the mattress, exhaustion settling over your overstimulated body.

Halsin gets onto the bed with you, gently gathering you up in his arms and placing your head against his broad chest. “You’ve done so well for me, little flower”, he whispers into your ear, placing soft kisses on your face before he looks your body up and down. One of his hands comes up to stroke a strand of hair away from your damp forehead and to gently lift your chin in order to look you in the eyes. You note worry in his gaze, his brows furrowed in remorse when he plants a feather light kiss on your lips.

“I’ve hurt you”, he states. “I’m so sorry, my heart. I shouldn’t have lost control like that.”

You smile up at him and cuddle deeper into his arms before you shake your head. “Don’t apologise. I loved every second of it. There is no birthday present in this world that can ever match this”, you confess with a shy grin. “Although I have to admit I’m a little sore. You sure did your best to make sure I’m unable to walk tomorrow.”

Halsin chuckles. “I can help with that”, he answers with a sly smile, his free hand sliding down your body to stroke through your soft folds, muttering an incantation under his breath. As the familiar glow of the healing spell engulfs his fingers, you feel a rush of warmth where he touches you. A moan escapes your lips before you could stop it, eliciting a mischievous smirk from your lover as you hide your face against his chest in embarrassment.

“I’d be happy to go again, my love, but I think you need some rest first. Besides, we still have an Elderbrain to kill, so we’ll need our strength tomorrow.” You nod at that, the tiredness in your bones leaving you unable to object, even if you had wanted to. But you know he is right, so when Halsin wraps a blanket around you to carry you to the bathroom, you just relax into his chest, the sound of his steady breathing soothing you.

When the bathtub is filled with warm water, you are already half asleep, barely registering that Halsin is gently cleaning you up, rinsing the sweat from your hair and body and rubbing salve over the bite marks and the bruises on your hips once you are dry again.

You can hear the soft snores and deep breathing from your companions when Halsin brings you back into the room you share, all of them already fast asleep. Absentmindedly you wonder how long you and Halsin have been away, but the thought is gone as soon as Halsin places you on your bed.

“Goodnight, my little flower. Sleep well.” He gives you a kiss and turns to leave. You manage to grab his hand before he does, stopping him in his tracks.

“Stay with me tonight?” you mumble sleepily. Halsin smiles, warmth and adoration filling his chest as he carefully climbs next to you, the bedframe creaking slightly with his additional weight, and wraps his arms around your smaller figure. The thought of how your companions might react in the morning seeing you two in one bed briefly crosses your mind, but Halsin’s steady breathing and the soft pulse of his heart against your back soon drown out anything else as you drift to sleep in his warm embrace.

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

Part 2 is here now!

#bg3 #halsin #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 halsin #baldurs gate 3 #halsin silverbough #halsin bg3 #halsin x reader #halsin x tav #halsin smut #halsin fluff #bg3 smut #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfic

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yandere-daydreams · 1 year ago

Note

If you DO go into moth hybrid stuff, a fun fact: domesticated silkmoths are unable to fly because they've been specifically bred to be easy to contain and care for to collect the silk they produce

Oh noooOoooo mr Moth/Butterfly Gojo/Geto, don't be mean and make fun of me and my stupid fat moth BBL and my teeny tiny wings that don't let me fly like both of you.... why do you keep making comments about how i can't run away, you're so mean :'(

Or if you're into little pathetic men and feel like dabbling with lil short creeps, female moths are usually larger than males. Some gross mf coming up to you, "oh wow you're so big and strong for a lady 🥺❤️ what are you gonna do to me tee hee" like nothing fool leave me alone

tw - non/con, manipulation, degradation, egg mention.

i will touch on the sexual dimorphism later maybe (trans moth!geto?), but right now my brain is just,,, butterfly!gojo and moth!geto stumbling onto a helpless silkmoth hybrid who's accidentally wandered away from their lepidopterarium and is out in the wild alone for the first time, unable to fly and already on the verge of tears. you're too naive and too sheltered to know how dangerous the world really is, but don't worry - they'll take you back to their shared den, give you plenty of nectar to drink, and if they're feeling nice, only bully you a little before taking turns pumping eggs into their cute new mate. gojo's as mean as he is pretty, making fun of your useless, stubby wings and empty head as he forces his stupidly big cock into you, while geto (as a fellow moth) is a touch nicer, letting you cling to his fur as he fucks you twice as roughly as gojo did. if you still have the energy to ask when you'll be able to go back to the terrarium when they're done, maybe they'll even be polite enough not laugh as they tell you that you won't be leaving them anytime soon <3

#hybrid au #yandere #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere gojo #yandere geto

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selineram3421 · 1 year ago

Text

*stares at phone after watching all of Hazbin Hotel* I gotta try something.

Accidentally In Love

Prologue

Alastor X Exorcist Reader

Warning ⚠

⚠ Fem Reader, mention of cutting wings, mention of abuse, Angel being Angel. ⚠

You had missed your sister Vaggie.

Being the closest to her out of all of your sisters, of course you would be a target.

Adam had used you as a punching bag whenever he could, just to feel better about her betrayal.

Two years went by, you had dealt with all the abuse you could before leaving down to Hell yourself. Feeling broken, you cut off your own wings, tossing them away into a random dumpster.

It was extermination day and you saw all of the chaos you and your sisters had caused. Now you can see why she left.

"Heaven is overrated.", you laughed, wiping away your tears.

"Now that's how you wear a smile!"

Gasping, you went on the defensive, eyes darting everywhere until you spotted a demon in red.

"None of that dear, I am not here to fight."

The demon remained in the shadows but you could see his smile. His eyes glowing red radio dials.

"I'd like to offer shelter and protection."

"What do you want.", you tightened your hold on your spear.

Yes you were in Hell, but even in Heaven there were those who had other intentions behind a smile.

"Nothing too serious.", the demon said. "Just to have you by my side until I say the word for you to leave."

"All the details.", you demanded and pointed your weapon at them. "I'm not stupid."

"And yet here you are standing in Hell."

"By choice!", you scowled.

"Oh? How interesting."

You let out a yelp when something dragged you into the shadows towards the demon. Using your angelic weapon, you stabbed at it and it released you, but it was too late.

You were already in the darkness with them.

"Apologies but I'd like to talk about this elsewhere.", the demon held out their hand to you. "Come and we'll discuss the details."

Looking up at the demon, you saw that he had a strained smile.

"I think you need me more than you let on.", you said but placed your hand on his. "I think I deserve to get more with what you're asking of me."

From then on you stayed with the Radio Demon, Alastor.

Currently he was off on business but when spotting you he had to get closer to the edge. You being someone who might be of use to him in his current predicament.

You pointed out that you didn't need to be around him all the time and put down that you would travel around Hell to find someone.

"And this someone is?"

"None of your business. Your deal is with me."

After a year of searching you found her.

She was with the Princess of Hell and was ok, she even grew her hair out.

You went with the deer demon to the hotel and stayed silent for the most part. Not used to being around so many living demons unless it was to get rid of them.

Alastor had put on a show of being all powerful while you just waited to talk to your sister. After all of the deer's shenanigans, you finally got the time to walk up to her.

"Vaggie?", you spoke up.

She looked surprised and then she frowned.

"What are you doing here!?", she whispered and dragged you away from the others.

After making sure no one else was around, she sighed and looked back to you.

"Explain. NOW."

"I left Heaven.", you stated.

"Well no shit. You're here.", she placed her hands on her hips. "I'm asking why. What happened? Why are you here? With the Radio Demon of all sinners. I'm not going back."

"I'm not here to take you back.", you quickly put a stop to her concerns. "I'm here to stay with you. I-. Heaven..", you looked away and hugged yourself. "You know I was the quiet one.."

Vaggie looked at you worried and placed a hand on your shoulder.

"What did they do to you?", she asked in a hushed tone.

"Adam..our sisters.", you couldn't look her in the eye and stared down at your feet. "Look. I cut my wings to stay here and find you. It wasn't right what they did and I'm not going back to that place.", you said firmly. "It wasn't worth you."

Your sister sighed and pulled you into a hug.

"Let's catch up later.", she said and held your hand, taking you back towards the others. "I want to introduce you to someone special."

"Is it the Princess? I already met her when coming in.", you said.

"I want to introduce you as my family and well..", she stopped just before going into the lobby, looking out and staring at the blonde. "I haven't told her..who-what I am. Please don't mention anything until I have the courage to tell her."

"Vaggie..", you squeezed her hand. "If you really want a good relationship with her then tell her. Sooner than later."

"I know.", she sighed. "I just need a little more time."

You backed more into the shadows after spotting Alastor looking around the room.

"Vaggie. I have to tell you something.", you said and got your sibling's attention. "I made a deal with Alastor, and before you yell. No. Not for my soul.", you said quickly. "I'm just acting like a bodyguard for a bit but he knows what I am."

"What!", she whisper shouted.

You patted her shoulders to calm her down. "I'll make sure he doesn't say a thing."

She looked over to the red dressed demon with a glare before accepting. "Fine. But you better be careful, I don't trust anyone other than Charlie."

"I will.", you smiled. "Now, officially introduce me to the Princess!"

With a roll of her eyes, she smiled back and dragged you over to the heir of Hell.

"Charlie! I have someone you need to meet."

The Princess turned and spotted you both.

"Oh, hello again.", she waved. "I've already met them Vaggie, what do you mean?", she asked.

"Not entirely.", she stood in the middle and let go of your hand. "Charlie, this is my sister.", she gestured to you.

Charlie gasped and held her face in surprise, eyes sparkling wide.

Vaggie said your name and then held the Princess close. "This is my girlfriend."

It was your turn to gasp in surprise.

"You hooked up with the Princess!?", you covered your mouth after noticing how loud you said that. "Sorry, I didn't mean that in a bad way. I mean that in total excitement. I'm happy for you and glad that you're happy."

The spider demon, that was named Angel Dust, got closer to look you up and down.

"Is there something wrong?", you questioned.

"You've got bigger boobs."

You blushed and hid your chest.

"Angel!", your sister whacked the spider.

"Ow! What!? Its true!"

Alastor walked over and also hit the spider. "You don't make such comments on a lady's body."

"I'm just saying they've got a nice rack, they got the betta genes!", the spider said before getting another hit from both of them again. "Ow!"

"Ignore him.", your sister turned you away and guided you towards the stairs. "Let's go find you a room."

You were happy to have found your sister.

Of course Alastor still needed to be kept quiet and you'd have to make sure to go over your deal with him.

Maybe you could persuade him somehow.

This went off the rails a bit but yeah.

~Seline, the person.

Part 1

Taglist@

@ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @lbcreations-blog @pooplyface1423 @line-viper @+?

ML for Alastor🎙

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megalony · 4 months ago

Text

I'll Take Care Of Her

This is a new Doctor! Eddie Diaz imagine based on a lovely request, I'm sorry it took me so long to write this for you. I hope you will all like it.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: Both Eddie and (Y/n) work in the hospital, but while Eddie is in surgery, a patient down in the ER attacks (Y/n). And the staff have to go and find her husband quick.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A rush of adrenaline sparked through (Y/n)'s stomach when a pair of arms deadlocked around her waist. Shivers coursed up and down her spine at the feeling of a chin pressing down on her shoulder and a familiar chest gluing against her back.

Her head twisted to the left and she pressed a quick kiss to her husband's temple, reaching her hands down to squeeze his wrists.

She loved the way he grinned and meshed his lips into the side of her neck, softly kissing her skin even though they were in the middle of the cafe. The feeling of Eddie's fingers squeezing her hips made her want to melt into a puddle. And she loved the body heat radiating off of him making her feel warm and fuzzy.

"Want a coffee?" She nudged her lips against his temple and began walking closer to the till, feeling him murmur 'please' into her neck.

Eddie kept his chest pressed up into her back and unhooked one hand from (Y/n)'s hip to grab one of the sandwiches from the fridge beside them.

He wasn't sure how long this break was going to last before he was summoned back into work, and Eddie didn't want to go back without eating something first. And he had a funny feeling that his wife hadn't eaten anything yet either so he knew sharing some food would be the best idea for them both.

When (Y/n) grabbed the two coffees the cashier held out, Eddie swiped his card from his pocket and paid before he finally unlatched from (Y/n). He wove his right arm around her waist and tugged her into his side with his lips attached to the back of her head and the sandwich in his left hand.

He followed (Y/n) towards a free table near the window and once she sat down, he wedged into the booth alongside her.

Once they were both sat down, (Y/n) leaned her head on Eddie's shoulder and tucked herself under his arm like he was a bird and she was taking shelter beneath his wing. She felt his hand gliding up and down her arm and the touch made her smile and she inched closer until one more inch would mean she was sitting on his lap.

"How's your morning going?" Eddie whispered against her hair and took a look around the practically empty dining area.

He hadn't seen (Y/n) since they both arrived at work this morning and parted ways for their respective positions. Eddie had gone upstairs to do routine appointments in the hospital, whereas (Y/n) had been put on the rota for the emergency room for the day. It was always both rewarding and challenging to work the ER.

Eventually he turned his head and took a bite of the sandwich. Lunch breaks weren't very long when they both worked in a hospital and if he didn't eat now, he dreaded to think when he would eventually get to eat.

"You wouldn't believe the kind of people who turned up so far. Oh, and dad brought a patient in too, the guy had a tape worm almost my height."

"Glad I'm not down there with you then."

Eddie would much rather be up with routine patients than dealing with emergencies. Half the people who walked into the emergency room didn't need urgent help and the other half had such strange issues that it scared Eddie to let them leave and fear what they would get up to when they went back home.

And Eddie knew his father-in-law was always one to deal with 'special cases' as they came to call them.

Bobby worked for the fire department and as such, he was always bringing people down to the emergency room. Which meant that (Y/n) often got to see her dad if she was working down there and she knew he always had fun cases to bring in and dealt with lots of strange things on his shift.

And it was usually (Y/n) who dealt with the cases her dad brought in. His team's motto and rules were that once they brought someone down to the hospital, they left them at the doors. No check-ins, no follow ups to see how they were doing, just leave them to the doctors. They got handed over to (Y/n) and Eddie.

Eddie leaned back in his seat and when he looked down at (Y/n), he nudged the other half of the sandwich over to her.

"Eat something now while you have the chance."

The look in his eyes made (Y/n) relent and take the sandwich, a grateful smile on her lips as she mixed some sugar into her coffee. Their respective jobs at the hospital were far from easy and when they were busy, it was hard to take a lunch break or a ten minute breather to go and get a drink. But while they were here together, Eddie would prefer if (Y/n) ate something, then at least he would know she would be alright if she got busy down in the ER. He didn't want her wearing herself thin.

"Do you think if I hid out here, anyone would notice?" She was only joking and they both knew it, but it was such a tempting thought.

To just sit here in the cafe and hide out for a while, take a proper break that they both deserved rathe than a few minutes to choke down a boiling hot drink and eat half a sandwich.

"Afraid so, baby. Don't worry, if I need a nurse for a consult I'll page you."

"Thank you,"

Eddie had paged for (Y/n) quite a few times when he had to have a nurse present in a consult to check a patient. It stole her away for a little while and got her out of the emergency room and all the hustle and bustle.

Closing her eyes, (Y/n) leaned further into Eddie's side and looped her arm around his middle. She would prolongue lunch as much as she could and scrape together as much time with her husband as possible before she had to go back to the team.

But it was comforting to think that if the emergency room got too much, she could head up to Eddie's office for a while.

Sitting down made (Y/n) feel tired enough that if she closed her eyes, she feared she would fall asleep. She was fine until she stopped moving and actually sat down, that was when the lack of energy hit her like a truck and knocked her back. And right now she felt like they were at home, curled up on the sofa together.

It was nice to feel Eddie's hand gliding up and down her arm while they both sipped their coffees.

Eddie closed his eyes for a few moments, but he groaned when he felt his pager vibrating and beeping on his belt. He knew it was too good to be true. Five minutes with his wife was all he was going to get. He was supposed to have a good twenty minutes for his lunch break, but clearly that wasn't going to happen today.

He leaned into (Y/n) and set his cup down so he could grab his pager and see what he was being called for. He was supposed to be on consultations today, but Eddie was always on standby. If there was an emergency, he would hand his cases down to a GP and head off wherever he was needed.

*Emergency appendectomy OR 6.

"Great. I'm gonna be in surgery for the next few hours." He twisted the pager in (Y/n)'s direction before he slotted it back on his belt. "If I don't catch you before we finish, just wait in my office for me."

They usually finished at the same time when their shifts lined up and Eddie would drive them both home. If he didn't see (Y/n) beforehand, he would see her when she came by his office when they both finished.

Their shifts didn't finish late tonight so Buck was getting Chris from school for them and he would drop him off after tea. They knew all of Bobby's team and they were all close, but Buck had become a very close friend to the couple.

"Have fun." (Y/n) sat up straight so she wasn't leaning on Eddie any more and she smiled when his hand cupped her chin and tilted her head back.

She could taste the sugar on his lips from his coffee and his thumb traced her jaw while he leaned into her.

"See you later baby, be careful."

Eddie's words spun round (Y/n)'s head that felt like it was full of air when he finally parted from her lips after stealing all the air from her lungs. His touch lingered on her skin as she watched him down the last of his coffee and weave between the tables.

His white coat flowing in the breeze at his quick descent and (Y/n) knew in half an hour that coat would be traded for a mint green set of scrubs.

With a sigh, (Y/n) downed her own drink, grimacing as it burned the back of her throat and settled heavy in her stomach. She felt a shiver coursing down her spine when she got up and slowly trudged out the cafe. She would head back to the emergency room, but she wasn't in any hurry.

There didn't seem much point in (Y/n) sitting here by herself any longer. She had gotten a small break and she got to spend a tiny portion of her day with her husband. She may as well get back to work now; the quicker she got back, the sooner her shift would finish.

She hoped.

***

(Y/n) ran her fingers through her hair while she finished writing up her notes, leaning against the nurse's station.

She could feel a headache rolling in and she just wanted to lay down and go to sleep. But there was still a few more hours left of her shift until she could go and find Eddie and head home. (Y/n) couldn't wait for next week. She and Eddie had booked the week off and that meant no one could ring either of them and ask for them to cover shifts or be on call.

They would get to be together for the week, the wouldn't have to be up early or home late or knackered from long twelve hour shifts. And they would get to be home with Chris. No swapping shifts and finding people to help watch him until they finished work. They could spend the whole week with him, and they had plans for the seaside and the amusement park.

She could barely contain her relief and excitement at the thought of leaving and heading home with Eddie this afternoon.

With her lower back arched out, (Y/n) leaned her head on her forearm as she finished up writing her notes and slotted the paperwork in the discharge file. It was easier when they got to see and discharge people on the same day rather than send them all over the hospital. Files got easily missed and the computer system didn't always update quick enough.

"(Y/n), did you discharge that last patient?"

Her head snapped to the left and she looked over at the Doctor Ardas. He was in charge of the ER today, and (Y/n) wasn't his biggest fan. He was all for pushing people past their breaking points. He didn't like people taking breaks or taking too long and to say he liked effeciency was an understatement.

"Yeah, she's been sent home."

"Good. Cubicle three needs assessing and bloods, the full works. Go." The way he pointed and wagged his hand in the right direction made (Y/n)'s jaw lock as she scowled.

What did he think she was, a trained puppet?

She didn't have chance to tell him not to be so crude and have some manners before he turned and walked away.

Great.

She thought about turning and skulking off somewhere, Eddie's office was only up on the second floor. She could make a break for it and hide away in there so she didn't have to deal with anymore patients.

(Y/n) had already taken blood samples, sone scratch tests, checked eyesights and set up patients on drips of antibiotics and saline. She had seen three different patients and discharged two of them after her short lunch break and she had barely discharged the last patient. She could use five minutes to just breathe and sit for a moment before she was run ragged again. But this was the job, and she couldn't exactly say no.

Pushing off the desk, (Y/n) clicked her spine into place and walked away from the nurses station to head down the short hall towards the emergency cubicles. Each one was a large room with glass doors and walls, all kept private with blinds and curtains.

When she reached the third cubicle, she grabbed the chart sheet from outside the room before she walked in and shut the door behind her.

Her eyes cast across the chart sheet but she could feel her blood draining down to her toes when she read it over.

(Y/n) wasn't prejudiced or discriminating in any way, she couldn't be in her line of work. But if there was one set of patients she didn't particularly like caring for, it was the ones on drugs. The ones who would become frantic and paranoid and could get vevry crude and snappy.

Sometimes with patients on drugs they were frightened, and (Y/n) could deal with them easier than the ones who got verbally aggressive and lashed out. Especially when they didn't want help, yet came to a hospital.

The chart said this patient had been brought in after a collision on the motorway and they suspected he was on drugs. (Y/n) was going to have to take bloods to confirm as well as check him for injuries and get him onto a ward, if necessary.

"Hi Joe, I'm nurse Diaz." She set the chart down and moved over to stand beside the bed.

The man was sat up on the bed, one hand cradling his temple and the other holding the rail like he feared he might fall off the bed.

"Can I take a look at you?"

When he didn't respond, (Y/n) leaned over and tried to move her hands towards his face so she could get him to look at her. He had a large gash on the side of his temple that needed attending to.

He didn't seem bothered when, after putting on gloves and getting some cotton swabs, (Y/n) started to clean the wound on his temple. His eyes constantly darted from his lap up to look at (Y/n) and then went back down to his hands that were now fiddling on his lap. He was shaking his hands and curling his fingers like he was losing sensation in his hands, but (Y/n) guessed it was because he was high and packed with adrenaline.

It didn't take long to clean his temple and (Y/n) determined he didn't need any stitches or glue, it would heal up just fine on its own.

But the way he looked up at her and suddenly had a smirk playing on his lips made (Y/n) wonder if he hadn't exactly noticed or looked at her earlier. He was staring at her now like he had only just took a proper look at her and seen the kind smile on her features.

"You're pretty." His voice was almost as sleezy as the smile on his face and he reached out to try and either touch her cheek or cup her face, (Y/n) couldn't be sure. But either way, she leaned just out of his reach.

"Thank you. Can I set you up on the monitor?" She pointed to the ECG machine in the corner and grabbed the clips that would need to be attached to his chest, but he didn't reply.

This time, when (Y/n) leaned over him and tried to motion to his chest, he seemed to come to life. His arm flung out and whacked her wrist, sending her arm jolting down to the side and causing a dull sensation to sting towards her elbow.

So he didn't want the monitors on.

(Y/n) took a deep breath and put them down. He wasn't about to go into cardiac arrest and he had refused, she couldn't force him to wear the monitors.

"Head up for me please." She swiped the flashlight from her top pocket and leaned in front of him so she could check his eyes.

He grunted and pulled back when (Y/n) lifted his eyelid and shone the light over his pupils. They were blown wide and not reacting as good to light changes. His nose scrunched and he huffed when (Y/n) grabbed a stethoscope and listened to his breathing and his heart, but he didn't hit her away this time.

"Have you taken anything today? Medication, narcotics, any drinking?" She jotted a few notes down on his chart but she was dismayed to see him snarling at her like she had insulted him.

"Nar-whats?"

"Non-prescription drugs, Joe." Using his name might make him calm down and feel listened to; at least that was the hope. It might also make him feel like (Y/n) was treating him as a person and not just as a patient, another casualty being brought through.

"If I s-say yes, will you arrest me?" He had a teasing manner to his voice and leaned forward towards her.

"I'm a nurse, not a police officer. I just want to help, if you tell me what you took I can make sure you don't have any adverse reactions and that you haven't overdosed."

He muttered "Nothing." beneath his breath, but (Y/n) wasn't sure if he was simply disagreeing with her or telling her he hadn't taken anything like that today. Not that she was inclined to believe him anyway.

(Y/n) may not be a police officer, but her step-mum was. She wouldn't arrest Joe, she would only treat him. Once he was on a ward and sorted out, then (Y/n) would inform her step-mum who would probably be the one to come down here and arrest him. But Joe didn't need to know that yet.

"I need to take a blood sample now, it might be uncomfortable but it won't take long."

(Y/n) moved over to the small unit in the corner of the room and got what she needed to take some bloods. That would tell them what Joe had been taking today to bring him here and if he was on drugs, it would be used against him for driving under the influence.

She pulled the small stool over towards the bed and sat down, laying the items down in a dish on the side table.

His left arm was closest to her and (Y/n) tried to be tender and careful when she pulled the plastic strap around his bicep to cut off his circulation. The action made him grunt again and he looked down at her with a raised brow and confusion plastered on his face.

"What're you doing?"

"I need to take some bloods." She got the needle ready and poised at the crease of Joe's elbow, but the moment she tried to slide it into his vein, he came alive.

His hand slapped into her shoulder and his other hand reached around to try and grab her. His fingers narrowly missed her head, clawing at a few strands of hair as (Y/n) scuffled back on the stool to be out of reach.

"You're not injecting me with anything." The gritty tone to his tempered voice made (Y/n) wince and she tried to hold up the needle with the empty vile attached. There was nothing to inject, she was retrieving a sample not giving one.

"I'm not-"

"Listen, just sign the forms so I can be discharged." He stumbled up onto unsteady feet and advanced over to (Y/n) who hurriedly hopped off the stool.

She had to take his bloods, it was far easier than taking a hair sample to test for drugs in his system and bloods also helped them rule out any infections and check on organ function. He was here to be checked over, he had to let (Y/n) help him.

"Joe, I'm only trying to help. Please sit down and as soon as I'm done, we can get you on an IV. You might have a concussion." He might indeed be concussed, but (Y/n) couldn't discharge him in this state, especially when she didn't know what he had taken and in what quantity.

"I don't wanna be prodded and poked. Sign the damn forms, you can even stay in here with me if that's what you're worried about."

"I'm flattered, but you need your bloods done so we can check you're okay. Let's get them done now, hm?" (Y/n) motioned to the tray and picked up the needle again while she motioned for him to sit down, but he didn't seem to be listening.

Once his eyes locked on the needle in her hand, his lips curled into a snarl and as quick as anything, he grabbed her wrist and bent her hand to the side. The motion was swift and violent enough to make (Y/n)'s hand tremble and she dropped the needle with a cry.

Her free hand grabbed his wrist and she pushed her effort into her arm to try and make him relent. Any second now she was expecting to hear her wrist snap from the brute force he was using.

"Let go." Her hand was trembling when Joe finally relented and released her wrist that was pulsing from lack of blood to her fingers.

She coiled both arms to her chest and looked around the room. If he wasn't going to cooperate then she would have to call for assistance, maybe even security. (Y/n) had had her fair share of tough patients, but the most she dealt with was verbal aggression or the odd shove when she had a panicked patient. This was different; Joe was different.

"You're a tough one." His words made her tremble and she sidestepped towards the end of the bed where the buttons and controls were. She needed to press the call button for help.

A gasp tumbled past her lips and (Y/n) flung her arms out in front of her when Joe suddenly grabbed her hips. His fingers pinched into her skin and he yanked her so forcefully that her feet bent awkwardly beneath her and she stumbled forward into him.

Her whole body went rigid when he tried to kiss her. She agreed with the officer's statement that he was most likely on drugs, but (Y/n) could taste alcohol on his breath too.

As soon as his lips touched hers, her trembling hands shoved at his chest and she writhed from left to right until he let her go and she could stumble back.

It didn't matter if someone was attacking (Y/n), if they hit her, put her in a headlock or tried to kiss her, she couldn't physically attack them back. (Y/n) couldn't kick, punch, hit or grab at a patient. She had been to the training, she vaguely remembered all the techniques to 'calmly and kindly' get out of a bad situation without harming the other person.

It didn't mean that it was easy when she just wanted to slap him and use force to get him away from her. But not at the risk of her job.

"That's- sit down. You can't do that." Her voice was croaky and her chest heaved as she sidestepped to the left towards the door. She didn't want to be in the room with him anymore and (Y/n) didn't need to be. He had tried to assault her, that gave her grounds to leave and she couldn't be forced to care for him any longer.

A high-pitch 'no' tumbled past her lips when a hand was suddenly latched into her hair and her body was propelled backwards. No one had ever grabbed (Y/n) or done anything like this to her before. She had never been in this situation and she didn't imagine she ever would be, either.

Most of the people down in the ER were seeking help, they didn't want to lash out or cause inappropriate situations. They needed help and most of the people (Y/n) treated weren't in any fit state to try anything like this.

"Where'd you think you're going?"

He seemed to try and twist (Y/n) around to face him, but she fought against him, turning her body in the direction of the door, desperate for an escape. And her head stayed twisted away from him as not to give him any satisfaction and show she wasn't agreeing to this situation.

Both (Y/n)'s arms coiled up in front of her but it did no use. She predicted Joe would swoop down and try to kiss her again. She didn't expect him to thrust her to the side and crash her into the bedframe. The beds in the emergency room all had plastic frames with rails around the sides and at the bottom to keep patients stable and secure.

That plastic frame felt like metal when (Y/n)'s forehead collided with it and when Joe slammed into her, the left side of her chest cracked against the bed frame. It knocked all the air from her lungs in the form of a scream and her eyes snapped closed as she felt her body tingling and turning numb.

She crashed to the floor, gasping and trembling through coughs and when her body seemed to come back under her control, (Y/n) could feel a horrible ache pounding in her chest.

Had she broken her ribs? She'd never broken anything other than her fingers before. She didn't know what it was supposed to feel like, but this horrible impaling feeling was close enough.

Her arms were trembling too much and her hands were too numb to try and find the pager on her waist. And she knew she wouldn't have the capability to try and send a message to anyone, not right now. and now she was on the floor, she was out of reach of the emergency buttons at the head of the bed.

Something croaky like a broken whine parted her lips when she felt Joe try to grab her legs. And she realised with utter dismay that he was kneeling over her waist with her thighs trapped between his knees. Pinning her down.

"You're my nurse, aren't you?"

His voice was horrible and gritty and sounded like poison in (Y/n)'s ears and again, she tried to raise her arms above her for protection.

She screamed as loudly as she could, ending in a cough while her legs writhed beneath him, heels scraping against the floor and her hands batted out in front of her when Joe tried to lean down.

He had something in his hand.

(Y/n) screamed again, repeating 'no' and 'help' because she couldn't see what he had grabbed. If it was a needle, she couldn't let him stab her with it. If she got an air bubble in her bloodstream it could kill her, air in the blood caused heart attacks and embolisms. (Y/n) couldn't have him causing that; she could die.

Tears streamed down her face that twisted to the right and she screamed when a sharp burning sensation scraped along the left side of her neck. Quick thorough; it couldn't be a needle he had hurt her with, that would have gone into her skin not sliced against her.

A scalpel. He'd found one on the medical trolley in the corner, that was the only thing sharp in here that he could weaponise.

"Help!"

(Y/n) scraped her heels against the floor, trying in vain to press her feet down and bend her knees to try and give herself some momentum. It didn't work. She couldn't sit up, and she couldn't move Joe off her either. And when the scalpel came within her blurring sight, she tried to reach out for his wrist to keep him at bay.

His hand curled around her already tense, bruised wrist and fought to pin her hand to the floor, earning another scream from (Y/n)'s lips.

Someone had to hear her. Someone had to come to her aid and get this idiot off of her. They had to stop him before he did some real damage or did something unforgiveable because (Y/n) couldn't fend him off on her own.

A sob got stuck in the back of her throat and her vision blurred with more tears as she screamed loud enough to make Joe wince above her and pause, if only for a few seconds.

Would Eddie still be in surgery? Would someone be able to go and get him once someone finally came to (Y/n)'s aid?

She wanted Eddie. She wanted her husband.

For a moment when his hand let go of her bruised wrist, (Y/n) thought maybe he was letting her go. She thought he might be having second thoughts or realising what he was doing in a drug-fuelled rage. But when she saw his hands roaming away from her face and she couldn't see the scalpel anymore, she started to shout.

It took a lot of effort to lift her head from the floor, trying to get her blurring eyes to focus and see what he was doing. She didn't want another injury.

The door flung open and bodies bustled in just as (Y/n) let out a horrific scream when the scalpel imbedded in her waist. The small blade wasn't long enough to imbed into her skin and hit an organ or reach the bone. It would barely cut to the muscle, it was made for skin and light layers of tissue and the blade was as thin as card.

But with enough effort, it plunged at least half an inch deep into (Y/n)'s waist, just above her hip bone.

Something akin to "Fucking nurse!" Blundered past Joe's lips when hands were grappling with his shoulders and at least two doctors and one security man grabbed him.

They dragged him back while a nurse hurried to crouch down beside (Y/n) who all but blacked out when Joe was dragged off of her.

Both her shaking hands moved to plaster against her waist and she coiled her knees up to her abdomen, twisting onto her side. The scalpal was still in Joe's hand. He had yanked it out when the doctors pulled him off her. Thank God it hadn't been a knife and hadn't inflicted a deep wound or (Y/n) would of bled out.

She tried to open her eyes but she could barely see a thing for the spots covering her vision. But she could hear Joe screaming and the thrashing about implied they were trying to pin him to the floor. They would sedate him. (Y/n) knew the drill, she knew a psychotic outburst like this meant they would sedate him and strap his wrists to the bedframe so he couldn't hurt anyone else when he came round.

"(Y/n)? It's okay, let's sit you up so I can take a look at you. Come on."

She recognised that voice, it was Amanda, a fellow nurse. Her hands were warm and cautious when she held onto (Y/n)'s upper arms and tried to get her to sit up. They couldn't help her if she curled up into a ball like this.

(Y/n) trembled back and forth like a leaf when Amanda eased her so she was sitting up, but that was as much help as (Y/n) wanted. She shuffled across the floor until she was cowering against the bedframe, clutching the plastic frame like it was her lifeline. And when Amanda tried to reach out for her again, (Y/n) sobbed and shook her head.

"E-Eddie." She didn't want anyone else's help. She wouldn't let any of them touch her and if they tried she was going to scream.

Amanda sank back on her heels, but she was already nodding and looking across at one of the doctors now that Joe was sedated on the floor. "We need Doctor Diaz down here."

***

"Diaz!"

Eddie couldn't help the sigh that tumbled past his lips and he hung his head down for a moment to try and collect himself.

His hands twitched at his sides, covered in a light layer of powder from the latex gloves he had been wearing for over three hours. He could feel the sheen of sweat trickling down the back of his neck and the way his hair crimped and flopped about his temple, probably flattened like a pancake by now.

With as much of a smile as he could muster, Eddie turned on his heels to see who was calling out to him. He moved his hands to his hips, clutching at the mint green scrubs that felt a little too baggy for him right now. At least he had gotten the scrubs off his shoes, he hated walking in those.

"Hey Jones, you okay?" His smile stayed strong even though his shoulders sagged and he waited to be asked something, it was inevitable. He had only just come out of surgery and already someone had gotten to him before he had the chance to change back into his work clothes.

"I- we have a situation down in the ER-"

"Jones, I'm not being funny but I've been in the OR for what, nearly four hours and I've not even got changed yet. Can't someone else deal with this?"

Was that so much to ask? Was Eddie being too demanding by wanting to have a few minutes to himself before he was dragged from one situation right into another? Why had they collared him? Was it because he had been the closest colleague Jones could find, or had someone sent for him specifically?

"It's your wife," A flash of panic crossed Eddie's face and his hands dropped from his hips while his back straightened out. Now Jones had his full attention. "She had a patient on drugs, he went bezerk and attacked her… he had a scalpel."

"Is she still in the ER?!" Eddie was already sprinting down the hall before Jones could reply.

He heard a faint 'cubicle three' shouted behind him and he waved his hand to signal that he heard the instructions. He slammed his hand against the lift button, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for the lift, but it was on the fourth floor and it was taking a long time to get down two levels.

With a grunt, he twisted to the right and aimed for the stairs instead. He had no idea how long ago this incident had happened. (Y/n) could have been hurt up to three hours ago while he had been in surgery. Eddie knew no one would come and get him during surgery unless it was a life or death situation. They would have waited until now to tell him and that meant (Y/n) could have been seen by a colleague or she could have been waiting all this time for Eddie.

He didn't like the thought of either of those options.

He almost skidded twice as he twisted round the corners and bolted down to the ground floor. Panting and breaking out in a cold flush by the time he swiped his badge to enter the ER through the doctor's administration area.

It didn't take long to hurry down the hall, weaving between the cubicles until he found the third one. He knew he must of looked a bit of a sight when he barely knocked on the door before blundering into the room.

He prayed (Y/n) was still in here and he didn't have to go scouting round the hospital to find her.

She was here. Eddie's sights set on her immediately. Surprise washed over his face when he looked around the room which looked twice its usual sight now that there was no bed in the middle of the room. The beds in entire hospital were all moveable so people could be transported quickly and easily. Clearly whoever (Y/n) had been treating in here had been transported out and no one had brought the bed back in yet.

Something snapped inside of Eddie when his eyes locked on his wife. Why had they not moved her out of here? Why was she sat on the floor, curled up like she was a child trying to make herself disappear?

There was (Y/n) in the right corner of the room, pressing herself up against the wall while she stayed as curled up as a little kitten. Eddie recognised the nurse knelt down beside her to be (Y/n)'s friend Amanda. And when he looked to the left, he was a little more than shocked to see one of the security team stood behind the door on the other side of the room to (Y/n).

"Eddie," The relief in Amanda's voice caught Eddie off guard and he headed over to them while Amanda pushed up onto her feet. "She won't let me help."

"I'll take care of her. Both of you, out please." Eddie waved his hand towards the door, trying his best to be polite. He knew his wife. He knew (Y/n) hadn't let Amanda help because she wouldn't want anyone trying to patch her up. And he knew she certainly wouldn't want them standing and observing while Eddie tried to help her either.

Amanda seemed to understand because she didn't look at all put-out or upset. She nodded and led the way out, followed closely by the member of security who nodded in Eddie's direction before leaving, closing the door firmly shut behind him.

His heart broke to see (Y/n) crying like this. He crouched down in front of her, unsure whether or not to reach out for her in case she shrugged off his touch too. But when he rested his cautious hands on her arms, he was relieved to have (Y/n) push herself into his embrace.

Her face burrowed into his chest and she wedged herself into his arms, shivering until Eddie tilted his head down and kissed the back of her head.

"Oh, baby. What happened, Jones said a patient tried to hurt you." Eddie had never worried about (Y/n) getting hurt at work.

Sure, when they had contagious outbreaks and people coming into the ER with unknown illnesses, he worried. He didn't want (Y/n) being susceptible to those illnesses and needing to be treated herself, and neither of them wanted to take anything like that home where Chris could catch it too.

But no one had ever tried to attack (Y/n) before, the thought had never crossed Eddie's mind because it wasn't something that happened often here and (Y/n) was never involved.

His fingers tangled in her hair and for a few seconds, Eddie breathed in her scent and focused on the way her shallow breaths mingled into the thin scrubs he was wearing. But then he moved his hand to cup the side of her face and carefully tilted her head back. She had to talk to him. He had to assess her and find out what was wrong so he could help.

(Y/n)'s hand trembled as she cupped Eddie's wrist and leaned into his touch, trying to look up at him through blurring eyes.

"He was- he was okay, until I t-tried to do bloods. He wouldn't let go, he threw me into the bed…" Her eyes glanced down and she leaned more into his hand until he was practically holding her head up for her, waiting patiently for her to carry on. "He pinned me down, Jameston had to- to get him off me."

It hadn't been (Y/n)'s best hour to have her colleagues have to rush to her aid and physically drag a patient off of her like that. But she didn't have a choice. (Y/n) did everything she could to get out of that situation, but without being allowed to use force and with no one else there was backup, (Y/n) had been defenceless.

Eddie could feel resentment growing inside of him and he hoped he didn't have to see the patient who had done this because he wouldn't be able to hold back.

He went to reply, but his brows furrowed and his heart battered against his ribs when he looked down at his hand which was cradling her face.

He wrenched his hand away from her face and unravelled his other arm from her waist so he could grab her wrist. He pulled her hand close for inspection, taking (Y/n) by surprise, before he held her chin and tilted her head back.

"Where's the blood coming from?!" The urgency in Eddie's voice made (Y/n)'s stomach jump.

Her palm was coated in blood and so was Eddie's wrist from where she had grabbed him. Why was she bleeding? Where had she been hurt to start bleeding? What had that psychotic patient done to make her bleed?

(Y/n) stayed quiet as Eddie tilted her head to the side so he could inspect the slash mark down the side of her neck. It wasn't deep and it had already stopped bleeding, but seeing her with any blood from any altercation like this made Eddie want to scream.

"What'd he do?"

Eddie let go of (Y/n)'s chin and trailed his fingertips down her arms, scanning his eyes up and down her frame while he got a lack of response. But his frown deepened when he realised (Y/n) was slightly creased over and she had her right hand pressing down on the right side of her waist. Something he hadn't noticed earlier.

He held her hand and pulled it away, nostrils flaring as he sucked in the deepest breath (Y/n) had ever seen to the point his chest looked like it was going to explode.

Blood was soaked into her shirt and coated her hand like she was trying to do finger painting.

She tilted her head back and closed her eyes tight when Eddie scrunched up her shirt to see the wound. It was small and clearly not deep enough to hit muscle or bone, but it was enough to cause a lot of bleeding like this and the way (Y/n) kept creasing forward with every breath told Eddie it hurt more than she was trying to let on.

"Baby, what did he do?" The guttural tone to Eddie's voice made (Y/n) whimper and she went back to clutching his wrist while he tried to inspect the cut.

"Found a scalpel… Eddie I- I think he broke my ribs, when I hit the bed."

The way Eddie dropped his head down and pinched the bridge of his nose made (Y/n) cry harder. She felt like she had done something wrong. She was a nurse. She was supposed to care for patients and stop situations from getting out of hand like this, but she didn't manage it today.

But when Eddie looked back at her, she was surprised when he pecked her lips and moved his hands to her elbows.

"I'll patch you up, get you an X-ray, then I'm taking you home." He could see his words took her by surprise and he hated how (Y/n) trembled when she gripped his arms, letting him take her weight as he got her up to her feet. He guided her trembling frame across to the chair in the corner and eased her down before he grabbed the stool and wheeled it across so he could sit in front of her.

(Y/n) stayed still and quiet, trying to stifle a whimper when Eddie lifted her arms and took off her shirt, leaving her in her bra and trousers.

Her eyes followed him as he scrubbed the blood from his hands and snapped on a fresh pair of gloves. Expertly finding the cotton swabs and anticeptic before he wheeled closer until their knees were touching and he was hunched over her lap to reach the wound.

Her stomach sucked in and she flinched away from his touch when he started to clean the wound. And he murmured a soft "Sorry baby," every time she flinched.

"Dios, he got you deep for such a small wound." It angered Eddie until he felt like a volcano on the brink of errupting. There had to of been a lot of force to cut (Y/n) this deep with such a small blade and cause this much bleeding.

Eddie threw the cotton swabs in the bin, grimacing at how many bloodied swabs he was using to clean her wound and the surrounding skin. But he had to make sure it was clean and that the bleeding was slowing down. At least it was small enough not to need stitches or gluing back together. Once the bleeding slowed down, Eddie applied some cream and looked for some suture strips.

He needed to keep the wound closed so it wouldn't bleed out. The strips were great for small cuts, but he winced each time he applied one of the thin rectangular strips. Three of them kept the wound tightly closed, and then with a patch of gauze over the top, (Y/n) was patched up.

"Can I check your ribs?"

(Y/n) wordlessly nodded and tried to sit up straighter, holding her left arm out at her side so Eddie could check them.

She felt like closing her eyes, but focused her vision on Eddie's face instead. Their eyes locked for a few moments while his index and middle finger tenderly prodded at her chest, checking each rib down the left side.

"I count two, you'll need a scan because I don't know if they're fractured or clean breaks."

Fractures were worse, they weren't complete splits in the bone and they could heal wrong. And Eddie needed to make sure if they were broken that they weren't at risk of puncturing a lung.

"No other injuries I need to know about, right?" He dreaded to ask in case (Y/n) had any other breaks or sprains or bruises he had to check over. She shouldn't be injured at all. She should be tending to patients and calming them down instead of sitting here, beaten up, needing Eddie to tend to her wounds. This wasn't right, it wasn't fair.

(Y/n) shook her head and sniffed, trying in vain to stop herself from crying but she couldn't seem to help it.

"I- I'm sorry, I should of-"

"Hey." A gasp elicited from her lips when Eddie's hand gripped her chin and their eyes locked. "I don't wanna hear any of that, mi amor. He hurt you, he had no right to do that and you have nothing to be sorry about. Understand?"

When she nodded, Eddie brushed his thumb across her chin, murmuring a soft "Good," against her lips that he stole a tender kiss from. He could feel salt tears trickling across her lips and each shallow breath she let out, but after another deep kiss, her breaths deepened and began to even out.

He wouldn't have (Y/n) apologise or feel bad for anything. She hadn't done anything wrong, she was the one who had been hurt.

Eddie slid his hands down to (Y/n)'s waist, carefully helping her up from the chair and he managed a smile when she tucked her face into his chest and looped her arms around his neck. He cupped the back of her neck and wound his other arm around her waist, pressing his palm into her lower back where his fingers tapped and messed with the band of her trousers.

"You're okay. I've got you, amor." He pressed his lips longingly and lovingly against the side of her head, breathing in her scent as he began to sway them from side to side.

They didn't need to go for an X-ray right away, they finally had a few moments to spare for Eddie to comfort her and hold her in his arms like this. And he knew in a little while he was going to have to call his father in law and pray that he got through. He didn't want to leave a message for Bobby to say (Y/n) had been attacked at work, it was a conversation that had to happen in person.

But right now, Eddie had to look after her.

#imagine #911 imagine #eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz imagine #eddie x reader #eddie diaz #bobby nash #doctor! eddie diaz

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lanasblood · 2 years ago

Text

JUST NETEYAM | neteyam x reader

pairing: olo'eyktan!neteyam x f!reader

summary: despite being from a different clan and expected to marry the leader of the omatikaya without knowing him, you agree to it for the sake of your family, but doubts start haunting you the moment you set foot in the clan, causing you to plan your escape on the day of your mating ceremony.

word count: 8k

warnings: arranged marriage trope, fluffffff, love-at-first-sight kinda thing, a bit of angst in the beginning, traditions, non-sexual nudity, prejudiced reader, royal neteyam, he is just such a prince it's unreal!!

note: all characters are aged up by five years. the title eyktan/eykte (leader) being unofficially reserved for the olo'eyktan (clan leader)'s mate made sense to me since both are supposed to rule together. please correct me if i’m wrong. see end notes for more.

* gif‘s not mine.

You will learn to love her. He remembered his mother's voice, and he recalled the vast expanse of the sky, where billowing clouds danced gracefully and the wind embraced him with gentle caresses. The sky, like an endless canvas, painted in hues of blue, purple, and gold, held a beauty that stirred his soul.

Instead of roaring waves crashing against the cliffs, he witnessed the majestic flight of ikrans, soaring high above the jagged peaks. Their wings, strong and mighty, carried him through the heavens, as if he were a part of their elegant dance. Gone were the humpbacked sea surfaces, replaced by the boundless freedom of the open sky. The white foam, once adorning the ocean's crown, now transformed into fluffy clouds, resembling intricately woven blankets. It was as if the heavens themselves provided a soft embrace, offering comfort and warmth.

They were little things, nothing really worth mentioning, such as the sun rays tickling his soft skin, or the laughter of his siblings echoing in his memories, not as they played with ilus in the water, but now as they soared alongside him, sharing the pure joy of flight. Even the taste of sea salt, carried on the wind, found a place in this ethereal domain. With closed eyes, he could almost feel a delicate touch of salt upon his lips, a reminder of the distant ocean and the memories it held. He missed those times. Not because he preferred swimming over climbing, or blue over green, that was completely not the case, but because he missed his youth, even from a time when his family sought shelter. He missed being careless, learning new things, having fun, and he would've laughed at his younger self who, even though rarely, complained about the number of duties and responsibilities he had on his shoulders — because nothing could compare to the duties and responsibilities he faced now as Olo'eyktan.

So for once, he liked to lose himself in memories of the sea before he pictured himself back in the sky, on the back of his ikran, where he found a world of wonder, where every little detail became a cherished treasure. The sky had become his limitless playground, an infinite expanse that awakened his spirit and filled his heart with boundless freedom.

He had been incredibly nostalgic ever since his parents had announced the arrangement for him; how overjoyed they had told him that they had found a mate for him, and he guessed it was self-explanatory why a part of him wanted to hold on to his past; not ready to take that further step.

Standing there and observing the preparations and exquisite decorations his people had arranged, he realized that the efforts he had endured for this ceremony were not in vain. The Omatikaya had gone to great lengths to create a magnificent celebration, honoring the union of a new pair; the one of their clan leader. Intricate craftsmanship was displayed in the decorations made from natural materials, the delicate floral arrangements that adorned the surroundings, and the gentle flicker of candles all held meaningful details. However, despite the beauty surrounding him, he couldn't help but yearn for the moment when it would all finally be over.

Five moons ago, he had thought not much of it, he had been convinced he'd find a way out of it, and here he was. Trapped in memories, in the infinity of the skies and seas, here, time stood still, so that eternity could begin, and right here he felt well, he felt safe.

"Bro!" A hand clawed onto his upper arm, abruptly pulling him out of his thoughts, as a breathless Lo'ak stood before him — or rather, hunched over, supporting himself with his other hand on his knees, and breathing deeply, inhaling and exhaling heavily.

"Mawey, brother." Neteyam carefully placed his hand on his brother's head and sought his face, trying to understand the situation. Lo'ak just shook his head hastily, trying to control his breathing.

"Are you okay?" Lo'ak was clearly not okay, yet Neteyam tried to maintain his composure as unpleasant images infiltrated his thoughts, his mind going through any possible worst case scenario. He hoped that nothing had happened to his family, and involuntarily, he felt annoyed that he hadn't seen Tuk and Kiri for a while, worrying about them.

"I got it, I got it." Lo'ak shook his hand off, breathing normally again. "It's.." He took a deep breath before saying it all at once, "It's your mate-to-be."

Neteyam's ears perked up in alarm. Lo'ak, having somewhat calmed his breathing, cringed, now struggling with his words instead. Perhaps he shouldn't have announced this so dramatically in front of his older brother, because he now feared that one problem would become two.

"Yes?" Neteyam patiently but firmly encouraged him to continue. He was suddenly caught in a conflict within himself, wrestling to keep his expression neutral, knowing that it would raise unease among curious ears and attentive watchers.

Apprehensive of his brother's reaction, Lo'ak didn't know how to say it, "Uh, I kinda… please don't be mad at me."

"Spill it, Lo'ak," Neteyam hissed through gritted teeth, now impatient and slightly on edge due to his younger brother's panicking behavior.

He feared the worst now but he didn't want to jump to premature conclusions. Still, something clearly must've happened and he inwardly hoped for her to be alright and safe. Yes, she was a stranger to him whom he had never seen once, but she was soon to become the closest and most important person in his life after all.

Lo'ak's gaze was filled with guilt, when he unsurely admitted, "I, uh… lost… her…?"

And that was it. All the facial features of the otherwise composed clan leader contorted as he looked at his brother in disbelief. Lost her? How do you lose a grown person?

The inner leader within him knew that he immediately had to gather as much information as possible about this situation. Finding her before the ceremony was crucial, and he should coordinate efforts with their best trackers and devise a strategic plan to cover all possible areas she might have gone.

His false, rationalized side tried to reassure him, suggesting that nothing had happened. Perhaps Lo'ak hadn't seen her in the tent, or she had been engrossed in a conversation. Maybe she simply got caught up in preparations and lost track of time. It's not uncommon for delays to happen before important ceremonies.

His emotionally calibrated side couldn't help but worry about her well-being, as well as the well-being of others. What if she had sustained an injury? What if she required assistance? And with a touch of paranoia, he feared something much worse, considering sabotage and abduction.

His reflected psychological side, however, completely dismissed these possibilities, because most likely, his family had intimidated her, and she had gotten cold feet. And if she truly matched him as well as his parents had described, then he could assess her emotional state and he had a feeling where she would be right now.

Ultimately, his strategically valuable side gained the upper hand and decided to embark on the search immediately, knowing exactly where to start.

"What did you tell her?"

Lo'ak looked at him completely lost, "Nothing, really, just that you're Olo'eyktan," he shrugged, "It's not like she didn't know that already."

And once again, he remembered his elders' words, and for the first time, a subtle sense of doubt began to creep into his mind, when he recalled what they had said:

You will learn to love her.

TWO HOURS AGO.

"I must inspect her body." You had expected many things, but not this. You had already come to terms with the idea of never being able to make your own choices again after everything you had experienced in the past couple of hours. And yet, you found yourself taken aback by this one simple sentence.

Five moons ago, you had been sitting in your family's tent in front of your parents when your mother had dropped the announcement that had changed everything. That day, you had been feeling uneasy from the moment you had gotten up, unable to quite place why. But when your mother had revealed the news, it had all become clear, changing everything.

"My daughter, you have been chosen by the Omatikaya to become their Olo'eyktan's mate," your mother had said, beaming with pride.

Immediately, your heart had sunk. While you had heard of the clan, you had remained a foreigner to their lands, unfamiliar with their Olo'eyktan, a man you had never encountered. It had become painfully clear to you that you were not ready to unite in a mating ceremony with a complete stranger, devoid of both familiarity and love.

"Do I have to, mother?" you had asked, your voice shaking with emotion.

"But yes, this is a great honor for our family. You were chosen, out of all the clans, out of all the girls in our clan, to marry Toruk Makto's eldest son," your mother had said, trying to convince you, "It's a sign of respect and trust."

"But what if I don't love him? What if we're not compatible?"

"My daughter," your mother's voice had carried firmness, "you are being unreasonable. This is not about love. It is about the well-being of our clan and the future of our people. Arrangements are part of our traditions for generations, and they have served us well. Your father and I, too, entered into an arranged union, and we have found happiness together."

She had continued, her tone resolute, "He is a commendable man. We have known of him and his achievements since he was but a child. As the successor to his father, he carries the legacy of our shared battles against our enemies." You had remembered all of the stories and tales, about a time before your time, about your father and mother fighting against the skypeople at the side of Toruk Makto. "For he led the clans to victory and if his son has inherited even a fraction of his character, you could not ask for a more suitable companion. He is talented, responsible, a formidable warrior, and an exceptional leader."

Your father had spoken up for the first time. "Your mother is right. The Omatikaya are good people, and their Olo'eyktan is a good man. He will take care of you and you will be happy together."

You had felt like you were suffocating at the realization that your own family had been willing to force you into a loveless marriage just for the sake of tradition, honor, and alliances.

"But what about my own happiness?" your voice had been barely above a whisper.

"Your happiness is important, my daughter," your mother had spoken, "But this is not just about you, you have a duty for our clan. You will become Eykte, and eventually Tsahìk, too, you will grant our clan safety and protection for generations to come."

You had known you weren't going to win this argument, feeling trapped, and so, so helpless. Looking down at your hands, you had been feeling tears welling up in your eyes. You couldn't imagine a life with someone you didn't love.

Your mother had put a hand on your shoulder. "It is okay, you will understand one day. We are doing what is best for you and our clan. Trust us."

But you couldn't have brought yourself to trust them, not after such a betrayal. You had known you had to find a way out of this marriage, but you just hadn't known how. You had looked up at your mother and nodded, pretending to accept your fate. While you had been internally determined to find a way to escape somehow, your mother had smiled at you proudly, and you would probably never forget her following words.

"You will learn to love him."

And now you stood here, in front of the Tsahìk of the Omatikaya — who was so different from the one in your clan — and were forced to undress and be inspected by her; for what purpose, you were not told, but you assumed that the degree of your flawlessness had to be determined and confirmed before you would be presented to the oh-so-great Olo'eyktan. The thought alone made your stomach churn.

"Grandmother, she clearly feels uncomfortable."

"Kiri, you know that it is not me who dictates the rules, for they are woven into the fabric of our existence itself," although her words were thoughtful and calm, her facial expression was anything but. Her gaze bore a sternness that bordered on intimidation, contradicting the tranquility of her voice. "Before the sacred union, both woman and man must embark upon this profound step."

"I don't want to," you said with a determined voice, "No one in our clan does that."

"Well, daughter of a great warrior, you are not in your clan anymore. Starting from today, you are Omatikaya, and you will learn to accept our ways if you want to or not."

A soft cough broke the silence outside the tent, followed by a deep voice asking, "May I enter?"

"Ah, I am too old and weak for such childish affairs," The elderly lady complained before muttering a prayer to herself, clearly at the end of her nerves, and it was more than evident that she was complaining about you and not the man who asked to enter the tent.

"Sure, you can come in," responded the girl standing by your side, who had been your companion throughout the day. Her name was Kiri, and amidst the chaos of the day, she appeared to be the most grounded and relatable person you had encountered; she was clearly the most normal person in this whole clan, that was for sure.

The Tsahìk waved her arms dramatically in the air before clutching her head, expressing dismay, "My days are numbered, and my strength is waning. I cannot keep up with this behavior."

A gruff laughter filled the air as the man stepped into the tent, placing the stack of white fabric on the table before he gently rested a reassuring hand on the elderly lady's shoulder. "Ma dear Tsahìk, you're lookin' healthy and mighty strong, and we're gonna keep you here with us for many cycles to come. No need to worry 'bout a thing, trust me."

"Be careful, jakesully, you begin talking like skypeople again," the woman said bitterly before her stern gaze fixated on you again, "Just where did you find this stubborn girl?"

Both the man and the elderly lady turned their attention towards you. The older woman's expression held a tinge of disgust, while the man offered an apologetic smile, as if trying to reassure you. Silence hung in the air, and without thinking, the words spilled from your lips, words that had plagued your thoughts since stepping foot on this new land that morning.

"Will I be introduced to the Olo'eyktan soon or…?"

The elder dismissed your question with a scoff, shooting a meaningful glance at the tall man beside her as if to say, Do you see what I mean? Instead of providing an answer, she posed a statement, her tone laced with accusation. "She reminds me of you. Is that why you chose her?"

The man shifted his gaze to you, offering an awkward smile before turning back to the Tsahìk. With confidence that appeared to stem from his own conviction, he declared, "She will learn our ways."

You will learn their way.

You will learn to adapt.

You will learn to love him.

The only thing you would eventually learn was to obey.

"Well, she has to learn a lot. That poor soul lacks understanding and respect for our ways and traditions. So far, I'm not convinced she's the right person to lead alongside the Olo'eyktan," the elder remarked, her words heavy with skepticism.

"Ma Jake? Are you here?" Before anyone could respond, a stunning woman entered the tent with grace and elegance, capturing the attention of all present.

"There is so much more to do, and so little time left," the Tsahìk remarked, brushing off the interruption.

The woman gently placed a hand on the elder's shoulder, mirroring the gesture of support shown by the man named jakesully earlier. Her presence exuded confidence and a calming aura, diffusing some of the tension in the room.

"Mother," she spoke in a soothing tone, her voice carrying a hint of authority. "Why are you stressing yourself out? It is a big day for your grandson, and you should take it easy."

Grandson. Your eyes widened almost imperceptibly. The family dynamics suddenly fell into place. It all made sense. You found yourself in a room surrounded by the closest members of your betrothed's family, yet there was no sign of him. His grandmother, his father, his mother, his sister were all present right in front of you.

The Tsahìk sighed and looked up at her daughter, concern etched on her face. "I know, Neytiri. But there is so much at stake, so much to be done," she replied, her voice laden with a sense of responsibility. "As the wisdom of time falls upon me and by the guide of Eywa, it is my duty to examine her physical form before the mating ceremony, and all she does is protest and complain."

Jakesully cleared his voice, "I mean, we cannot force her. If she doesn't—"

"She has to, ma Jake," Neytiri, the graceful woman who had entered, interrupted him with a serious gaze, "And she will." Then she shifted her gaze towards you, her eyes filled with compassion.

Leaning closer to her mother, she said, "You have guided our people for generations, mother. Today, let us handle the preparations while you focus on preserving your strength."

The Tsahìk seemed hesitant to relinquish control, but after a moment of contemplation, she nodded in agreement. "Very well, my daughter. I entrust this responsibility to you and Jakesully. May Eywa guide your actions."

Neytiri smiled warmly, her eyes flickering with gratitude. "Thank you, mother. We will do our best to honor our traditions."

With a sense of relief, the Tsahìk rose from her seat, her weariness momentarily lifted. She turned to you, her stern expression softening ever so slightly. "As for you, young one, understand that our customs are not merely rituals, but a connection to our ancestors and the land that sustains us. Embrace our ways, and you will find your place within our clan."

You met her gaze, a glimmer of kindness in hers as you didn't falter your firm expression whereupon your understanding of tradition began to shift, morphing into a newfound curiosity.

Jakesully stepped forward, his voice resonating with encouragement. "It may seem overwhelming at first, but with time, you will come to understand, trust me."

Neytiri joined his side, her presence radiating strength, "Neither you nor Neteyam are alone in this journey. We will walk beside you, supporting and guiding you every step of the way."

Neteyam. So that was his name. Exactly in that moment, it dawned on you that you had never bothered to ask about his name but so did no one bother to tell you before, as if it was something you should've already known.

"Where is he right now?" you just asked. If the topic of Neteyam had already been mentioned, you didn't want to waste the opportunity. The couple in front of you — his parents — exchanged a brief glance, before you got an answer.

"He is busy with the preparations, but we'll see after him now," Neytiri expressed with a gentle tone and smiled at you. "Kiri will stay here to assist you."

Once again, your question was avoided, and it was becoming increasingly strange. You chose to ignore how one by one, your future family left the tent, leaving you all alone. Kiri had assured you that she would hurry back as she needed to gather some materials. As far as you were concerned, she could take all the time in the world, as it wouldn't change anything about your situation anyway.

"Neteyam." You let the name roll off your tongue, practiced the pronunciation, and let your ears become accustomed to the sound of it. Neteyam. You chuckled to yourself, even though you refused to admit it openly, it was a remarkably beautiful name. At least you had to give him that, you would have a mate with a pretty name. And you could add that to the list of things you knew about him: His name was Neteyam and he was the Olo'eyktan.

You sighed, recalling the conversation with the young man from earlier today. Once you and your brother who took the role as your guardian for today had arrived, this guy had accompanied you through the village, like a personal assistant assigned to you. It seemed as if his main task had been to keep you away from the other villagers, as if you were a disease or plague. Something had seemed off. He hadn't answered many questions, deflecting them instead. And eventually, when the questions became too much for him, he had left you in the caring hands of Kiri and disappeared elsewhere. It had been an interesting encounter with him, for just like Kiri, he possessed an extra finger and hair that gracefully cascaded over his eyes. In retrospect, it dawned upon you that he must surely be a part of the family, and you assumed that Neteyam would likely bear a similar resemblance. Such differences held little concern for you, as they were merely superficial nuances. Before your departure, your friends from your clan had instilled fear within you, weaving tales of demon blood and disfigurement. Yet, you chose to disregard their words, wanting to see for yourself.

Still, the fact that you had not laid eyes upon him and the pervasive silence surrounding his name within the village stirred a faint sense of unease within your core. Could he truly be an outwardly fearsome beast, compelling others to shun him from their thoughts? Or perhaps, he was a cruel leader, commanding such reverence that people dared not utter his name. A sigh escaped your lips, knowing that this enigmatic figure would soon become your better half, your partner in life's journey, and he would be the one to father your offspring. The question lingered, like a whisper in the wind: Could cruelty be inherited, passed down through bloodlines?

At least now you knew your future mate's name.

"…te Suli Neteyam'itan."

"Or y/n'ite," you flinched involuntarily as you heard Kiri's voice when she reentered the tent, and instantly a slight blush crept onto your cheeks, "You know what, kind of eww because he's my brother but it's good that you already think about your children's names," Kiri said smiling smugly.

"I was not—"

"No, I mean it, repeat that in front of my grandmother and she will be head over heels for you." You highly doubted that.

You spent the next hour doing what Kiri instructed, and it wasn't nearly as daunting as you had imagined. The physical examination wasn't a thorough scrutiny of your body. Instead, you were coated in a gentle, liquid healing clay, and it wasn't uncomfortable to have a stranger touch you. Kiri was remarkably professional, but she asked you not to pose distracting questions while she worked. Later, the clay was washed away with water infused with blessings and flower petals, which filled the air with a delightful scent. Once everything was finished, you felt refreshed and rejuvenated, as if reborn. Only then did other people approach you to dress you in exquisite fabrics, feathers, and precious jewelry, and gemstones. The women all appeared kind, but none of them seemed eager to engage in conversation with you. You sat quietly on the mat, your legs folded underneath you, gazing at the wall ahead, as multiple hands adorned you.

As the preparations came to an end, you had still an abundance of questions left, a multitude of them swirling in your mind, and you voiced each and every one of them, undeterred by the avoidance of an answer.

Is he handsome?

Is he kind?

Is he warm?

Cultured?

Artistic?

Athletic?

Strategic?

You persisted in asking, refusing to give up, until you received a satisfactory answer.

"Is he dull? Not very smart? Mentally slow? I can work on those."

However, every response you received was completely off-topic, such as "We can discuss the order of the mating ceremony" or "Our Tsahìk sent over blessings for you to recite during the ceremony..." It was beyond frustrating.

"Is he, like, ugly or something? Maybe he has some kind of physical deformity, but you know, true beauty comes from within anyway and such. Well, not literally from within, but I believe in being a good person and I could deal with it."

At this point, it felt like you were having a one-sided conversation, with question after question piling up like a mountain, and not a single one of them was ever answered sensibly. Instead, you were met with empty platitudes intended to appease you, but it was all in vain: You are going to be an amazing mate, an amazing mother, and an amazing eykte.

Just as you were about to give up, you turned to the young girl who helped you put on some golden beads on your hair, the one that Kiri had referred to as her sister. The youngest Sully child had also joined your company at some point, a truly adorable and vibrant teenage girl whom you had quickly grown fond of. "Can I ask you about your brother?" you feared that the topic was about to be avoided again.

But contrary to your expectation, the younger girl beamed a smile at you and nodded her head in agreement, "Sure, ask away, what do you want to know?"

"What is he like?" You asked your voice filled with curiosity, anticipating her answer and paying attention to her body language.

"I mostly like him, more than Lo'ak at least," the younger girl began venting in a nonchalant tone, "but today I'm so angry at him, he really—"

"Tuktirey!" The stern voice of her mother, Neytiri, suddenly interrupted, causing the girl to look up instantly. The girl fell silent, her eyes wide with attention. "Come help me, please," Neytiri said with a nod towards the forest, before she swiftly exited.

Turning her gaze back to you, a sweet smile still graced her lips. "Don't worry, he's actually the very best," she whispered.

"Tuk!" Neytiri called again, prompting Tuk to rise from her spot.

"I'm sorry, I can't say anything," she hurriedly apologized before rushing towards the tent's exit.

"Tuk, please," you said, reaching out to hold her hand, trying to prevent her from leaving. "Tell me... is he cruel? Is he dumb? I can work with dumb, you know, I just need to know."

Tuk was about to respond when her eyes suddenly widened imperceptibly. You followed her gaze over your shoulder and saw the young man from earlier standing there.

Tuk smiled at you and said, "Did anyone ever tell you how pretty you are? You're going to have wonderful children, I know it." And just like that, she left. Whatever she was about to say, first her mother and now this man had stopped her.

"What is your problem?" you asked, irritation seeping into your voice as you stood up from your place. "We were having a conversation, why did you stop her from talking?"

"I would never do that to my own sister," he replied seriously.

So Kiri, Tuk, and this guy, probably Lo'ak, were all Neteyam's siblings.

"Why are you here?" you inquired, your bad mood getting the better of you.

"I'm here to assist," he answered nonchalantly.

"Okay, then you tell me," you demanded, your voice filled with anticipation. "Tell me about the Olo'eyktan."

A thoughtful pause lingered in the air before the guy responded, his gaze holding a promise of an imminent encounter. "You will meet him soon," he assured you, sensing your yearning for immediate understanding.

"I want to know now," you pressed, a hint of urgency coloring your words.

He let out a weary sigh, acknowledging your eagerness. "He is our clan leader — the clan of the blue flute," he began.

"Yes," you affirmed the initial fragments of knowledge that you already knew.

"He has held the esteemed position of the successor of the former Olo'eyktan since his childhood, as he is the firstborn child," he continued, acting as if it were the most revealing information.

"Yes," you echoed, impatience in your voice.

"And for two cycles of harvest time, he has guided us Omatikaya as our chief," he concluded, underscoring the same repeated information, now for the third time.

"Yes," you mused, the repetition of information giving rise to a discerning observation, one that definitely confirmed your gut feeling. "Okay, so you've told me he is the clan leader, he is Olo'eyktan, the chief of the Omatikaya, the firstborn, and the successor since birth... these are all the same things."

"Yes," he acknowledged, his face looking serious and his voice carrying a hint of nervousness, "but they are all facts."

You stifled an annoyed sigh as everything felt so strange here from the moment you arrived until now. It was baffling that nobody, and absolutely nobody at all, was talking about him. It almost seemed like a conspiracy, leaving you perplexed.

You realized your parents were wrong from the very beginning, and that's when you decided to put an end to it. You refused to stay any longer in this clan, let alone mate with him.

"Excuse me for a moment," You muttered as you tried to pass by Lo'ak, but he positioned himself at the exit in a way that blocked any way out.

"I'm really sorry, but you'll have to stay here until the ceremony," he explained, wearing an awkward smile on his face.

"Sure, but I really need a moment of privacy."

"Yeah, of course, I won't bother you in the tent."

"No, you don't understand," you made one final attempt, but no matter how obvious it seemed, Lo'ak couldn't grasp the situation. He stared at you with a perplexed look as you let out a sigh and concluded your statement, "Nature is calling."

"Oh," his eyes grew wide within a second, "Oh, uh," he stammered, "Yes, um, sure, you can– you can just go over, uh, there," he cleared his throat several times and pointed in two different directions with his hands, a light blush visible on his cheeks, "D-do you know the way? You do, don't you? Should I…?"

"I'll manage, thanks," you gave him a fake smile as you walked past him and headed straight into the forest. Once you were certain that no one was following you, you began to run. Every second counted now, and you had already devised an escape plan. You didn't care about your family or your clan, or the shame it would bring upon them for they had abandoned you anyway. Without a second thought, they had turned their backs on you and your future, so you were ready to do the same. You would rather be alone for the rest of your life than mate with that demon no one dared to talk about.

The soft melody of baby ikrans chirping above you, their cheerful tunes harmonizing with the gentle breeze that rustled the leaves of nearby trees, calmed your nerves a bit. Amidst the serene ambiance, you had fought your way from the woods after running quite a distance from the village, now standing in front of high rocks, your expression reflecting a sense of bewilderment and uncertainty, you looked for a way to climb them up.

Lost in your thoughts, and trying different ways, you remained oblivious to the presence behind you, until a man cleared his throat and approached you.

"Um, are you in need of assistance of some kind?" he asked, his voice gentle and filled with genuine concern.

You startled, letting go of the vines on the rocks for a moment and a flicker of suspicion crossed your eyes as you turned to the person. "Uh, I am quite fine, thank you," you responded annoyedly, your thoughts silently questioning the identity of this stranger. Where did he even come from and why did he bother you? He probably knew who you were given your extravagant looks, but who was he? "You can go back and wait with all the other gawkers for the ceremony."

The man's lips curved into a soft smile when he took a step closer to you, his hands resting calmly behind his back. "I...will. But first, I'm curious, what are you doing?" he inquired, his tone curious and laced with intrigue.

A hint of defiance lingered in your voice as you replied, "Nothing." You struggled to maintain your composure, your words betraying your actions.

"You're doing something," he persisted.

Frustrated, you sighed, "I am not."

With the sound of ikrans shouting above you, a moment of pause settled between you. In that fleeting silence, you decided to reveal your purpose, hoping he'd then mind his business and go away. "If you must know, I'm trying to find out the best way to climb over these rocks."

"Climb... whatever for?" he questioned, genuinely intrigued by your confession.

"Because I think he may be a beast. Or a demon," you revealed muttering to yourself, sarcasm in your voice but also hinting at a hidden fear.

Perplexed, the man who had definitely heard you inquired further, "Who are we talking about?"

"Oh, well, that was actually mean of me," you mumbled to yourself, reminding yourself that the man in front of you was probably loyal to his Olo'eyktan and wouldn't like you talking bad about him. That thought made you find some amusement in your own thoughts before speaking louder, "None of your business."

He gazed at you expectantly, awaiting an honest answer. The stranger didn't seem like someone who would immediately betray your secret — later perhaps — but he could be of use to you right now, maybe he could even confirm or refute your theory.

"The Olo'eyktan," you finally added, your voice softer, "No one will speak of him. No one. He is clearly a beast or a demon."

Realization dawned upon him as he nodded, absorbing your words. "Understood."

You turned your back to him, focusing on the rocks again, and suddenly you had a plan, "You know, if I grab there... yes!" you looked back to him over your shoulder, "You could assist me by lifting me up."

Confusion crept into his expression as he hesitated, contemplating your request. "Uh, one question. You do not like beasts or demons? What he looks like matters?"

You rolled your eyes, "I don't care what he looks like. What I don't like is not knowing. Now, here. Just take a hold here," you instructed, pointing to your waist. "With a lift, I... I believe I can make it over the rocks and to my ikran."

He considered your words, pondering the consequences. "People will notice you are missing, will they not?" he queried, concerned for the potential repercussions.

"I will worry about that later. Now, if you please..." you turned your back to him, still determined to proceed. "I just need a little help. Come. Hurry up."

The man licked his lips, caught in his own contemplation, before taking two slow steps forward. "I have absolutely no intention of helping you," he declared, surprising you with his refusal.

You stopped in your tracks, slowly turning to face him as if you had misheard, giving him the time to correct himself. Your eyes widened in surprise and a bit of anger, too. With sure steps, you approached him, closing the distance between you.

"I'm a woman in need of help. And you refuse?" you confronted him, your voice tinged with disbelief.

The man tilted his head to the side, his expression contemplative. After a moment of thoughtful silence, he responded, his voice carrying a touch of playfulness.

"I refuse when that woman in need of help is trying to go over the rocks so that she does not have to be my mate," he stated, his words hanging in the air, revealing a truth that caught you off guard.

Shock rippled through you, and you gasped softly, feeling as though the air had been caught in your throat. Your eyes locked onto his golden gaze, desperately hoping that you had misinterpreted what he said. But deep down, you knew the truth had found its way to you, settling heavily in your core. It couldn't be... you had seen his siblings, and they didn't possess the distinctive features of the clan. Yet, here he stood, a true Na'vi through and through, without any doubts. He was remarkably handsome, almost too handsome. Yes, you had noticed his striking appearance the moment you laid eyes on him, but then it didn't matter much since he was just a random person, but now, with this revelation, they held significant weight in your thoughts.

He wore a smirk on his lips, a glimmer of mischief dancing in his gaze. He knew.

"Hello, y/n," he approached you, his smile radiant and unmarred by the revelation. As he stopped directly in front of you, he lifted his hand to his forehead, greeting you with a formal gesture. "I'm Neteyam."

The realization dawned on you, and suddenly, the words you had wanted to speak failed to find their way out. Your tongue forgot its purpose as you just stood there, caught between astonishment and uncertainty.

An apology, you thought, your mind searching for the right words to offer at least that.

"I am deeply s..." —orry. Your voice faltered, carried away by the cool wind that brushed past you. The weight of the truth settled upon you, realizing that he was the successor of the former Olo'eyktan, the firstborn of Toruk Makto, your mate-to-be.

"Ma Olo'eyktan," you stammered, attempting to bow in respect, but he intercepted your gesture. His hands gently caught yours, intertwining your fingers in the process, and he lowered your hand in a graceful motion, bringing your hands together. His hand on yours became the focal point of your gaze, while you could hear your heart pounding in your ears.

"Not your Olo'eyktan," he corrected you in a soft-spoken manner, withdrawing his hand. "Neteyam."

You tried to read his face, searching for answers in the depths of his eyes.

"I mean, yes, your Olo'eyktan, but to you, just Neteyam," he clarified jokingly, the sound of his beautiful laugh after made you speechless.

"I am…" you began, but the sentence remained unfinished, your shame preventing you from pronouncing the word 'sorry'. "Please accept my apology. If I had known that you were you—"

He interrupted you, his gaze unwavering. "You would have what? Not told me that you were trying to escape?"

"Well, yes. I mean…" Your words stumbled over each other, attempting to form a coherent defense.

He chuckled, a sound that filled the air around you with warmth.

"I do apologize, ma Olo'eyktan," you said lowering your gaze, your voice a soft admittance.

"Neteyam," he corrected you once again, a gentle reminder. "Just Neteyam."

You nodded, your eyes looking up and meeting his again, the weight of the moment hanging between you. And then, he leaned closer, too close for your liking, and you held your breath when he whispered into your ear.

"The title situation. It towers over us. An accident of birth on my part," a shiver ran down your spine as his warm breath met your skin, "But I thought, maybe, perhaps as my mate, you could ignore it, and I could be just Neteyam to you."

You gazed at him, your heart fluttering with newfound affection. The weight of his words sank in, and you found yourself captivated by the vulnerability he revealed.

"That was, of course, before I found out that you don't want to be my mate," he confessed as he straightened up, and you couldn't ignore the hint of disappointment in his deep voice.

"I didn't say that," you quickly defended yourself, your voice laced with sincerity.

"Oh, you did," he emphasized, now a playful glimmer in his eyes.

"I did not," you insisted, your tone slightly nervous.

"You did," he persisted, his smile widening.

"It is not... mhm. I don't know you," you admitted, your voice growing softer as you laid bare your doubts and reservations.

He stretched his arms out in a dramatic gesture. "I don't know you either," he admitted, his smile ever so wide, "Except that you are terrible at climbing."

You became defensive, a playful spark igniting within you. "You try climbing a wall in all of these," you retorted, gesturing towards your elaborate clothing and jewelry. As you looked up to meet his gaze once more, you found him already watching you, a broad smile adorning his face and a dreamy glint in his eyes. It was a contagious expression that tugged at your lips, and you couldn't help but smile in response.

"What?" you asked softly, your curiosity piqued.

He opened his mouth, then closed it again, contemplating his words. Finally, he spoke, his voice filled with a sincere and gentle admiration. "You are incomparable."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, a blush rising to your cheeks. You remained silent, allowing the warmth of his compliment to wash over you.

He continued, his gaze shifting to the left as he spoke, his words a tender confession. "No one told me you'd be this beautiful. You may be too beautiful to be my mate. People will talk... given I'm a demon."

"Ma Olo'eyktan—" you started, wanting to apologize again, your voice trailing off as he corrected you once more with a playful glint in his eyes.

"Neteyam."

You chuckled softly, your heart opening up to the gentle familiarity of his name, "Neteyam," you said softly, giving in to the connection forming between you. The sound of his name on your tongue felt even more different now that he was standing in front of you, almost comforting in its own way.

The sun began to set behind him, casting a warm glow over the lush landscape of Pandora, and a golden hue around both of your bodies. The air was filled with anticipation, and you could feel the weight of the moment.

"What do you want to know?" he asked all of a sudden.

"What?" you snapped out of your thoughts, momentarily caught off guard.

"You don't know me. What do you want to know about me?" he repeated, his gaze fixed on you.

You didn't expect this question at all. "That is quite, uh…"

"Mm-hmm," he playfully encouraged you to continue, his head tilted to the side.

"Uh…"

He gave you his full attention making you nervous, a smile playing on his lips, his canines peeking out with a small smirk.

You realized that he seemed to enjoy the situation you were in. Gathering your thoughts, you mustered the courage to speak.

"I suppose... everything," you said, your voice gaining confidence. "I want to know everything about you."

He was briefly surprised, the smile disappearing for a second. "All right," he said, clicking his tongue.

"Uh, everything?" he asked to confirm, and you nodded confidently. "I was born prematurely, and everyone thought I was going to die, but I did not. I am a fair shooter, and an even better archer. My favorite food is srakat vey. I will not eat fungus soup, it is horrible. I like flying and hunting and good conversation. Most of all, I like science."

"Science?" you asked, genuine curiosity in your voice.

"Yes, the study of the physical world, especially astronomy. The stars in the heavens," he explained, a spark of enthusiasm igniting within him as he continued. "I'm quite the artisan. Probably would be an artisan if I were not already occupied."

Pointing to his scar above his chest, he added, "I have a scar here from falling off my ikran."

"Really?" you asked, surprised at the revelation. He didn't seem to be the type to have experienced such a simple accident.

"Either that or skypeople were the cause, it's long ago," he replied hinting at the mystery, and by the way he said that you were sure that skypeople were the cause of his scar, and he knew that you came to the conclusion as well, almost wanting you to see through him.

He then pointed at his hand. "A scar here from just being incredibly clumsy with a hunting knife as we were kids." As your eyes focused on his perfect hands, he met your gaze again, and the silent connection deepened.

"And I'm very nervous," he chuckled, "about mating with a girl I'm only just meeting minutes before our ceremony."

You were left speechless, absorbing the honesty and vulnerability he shared. Nodding understandingly, you appreciated his nobility. "But I cannot show it and climb over rocks and fly away with my ikran because I am Olo'eyktan of the Omatikaya, and that would cause a scandal. But I promise you, I am neither a demon nor a beast," he reassured, his eyes ever so dreamily locked with yours. "Just Neteyam."

Long, intense eye contact held between you, the unspoken emotions weaving a tapestry of unexplored possibilities. Before you could process the moment, your brother appeared out of nowhere, breaking the trance,

"Sister, we have been looking everywhere for you. What are you—" he stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening in awe as he recognized Neteyam. "Ma... ma Olo'eyktan," he greeted respectfully, bowing even.

Neteyam approached your brother and greeted him back. "You must be the man responsible for my possible future happiness."

"Sure. Um, my apologies. Yes. No—" your brother stumbled, caught off guard by the unexpected encounter.

"Well, you have arrived at the most opportune moment. She was just deciding..." his words trailed off as his eyes met yours, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips, "whether or not she wanted to be my mate."

A rush of heat flushed your cheeks, feeling exposed and vulnerable under the scrutiny of both Neteyam and your brother. You watched as the realization sank in, causing your brother's expression to shift from surprise to concern.

"Oh, she is overjoyed to become—" your brother tried to speak, but Neteyam interjected, his voice calm and measured.

"No, she's still deciding. She might go over the rocks instead. Either way, the choice is entirely up to her." The corners of Neteyam's lips curled into a gentle smile, his words reassuring and respectful.

Your heart swelled with awe. The weight of the decision had suddenly become lighter, knowing that Neteyam understood the importance of autonomy, and that he was willing to accept any outcome as long as you were the one making that decision on your own.

Your brother forced a smile, his eyes reflecting a complex blend of emotions. Perhaps he recognized the sincerity in Neteyam's words, or maybe he understood the significance of your journey toward happiness, whatever it was, he kept quiet.

Neteyam broke the silence, his voice filled with a determination worthy of a leader, and a pinch of amusement, "Now, I should get back because I suspect that by now there are some very anxious warriors who think I am kidnapped."

He stepped closer, taking your hand in his, his delicate touch sending a jolt of electricity through your body. Excitement emanated from him as he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your hand.

He said your name with so much passion, you were almost hypnotized by him, his breath warm against your skin. "I hope I see you there." He lingered for a moment, his eyes locked with yours, a silent promise of a future yet to unfold.

With a nod and a soft smile, he released your hand and turned to leave, but then he paused and turned back, "And if so, I am the one standing between Tsahìk and Toruk Makto."

You smiled. He smiled.

His eyes met yours for the last time, and in that gaze, you found a reflection of your own desires and hopes. And then he started fading into the distance. The weight of his departure settled upon you, you were left standing there, your hand still tingling from the touch of his lips. The intensity of his presence lingered in the air, and you found yourself lost in a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts.

Your brother rushed to your side, concern etched on his face. "Don't tell me you are still hesitating," he said, his voice filled with worry and impatience.

With the setting sun as a witness, you just looked at him, a newfound sense of clarity shining in your eyes.

Well, maybe this wasn't that bad after all.

note: yes, this was inspired by that scene from "queen charlotte", and if you can't get enough of neteyam and enjoy the arranged marriage trope, I highly recommend checking out the chosen by eywa series by @randxmthxughts and the monster in me series by @andraga12, their writing is exceptional, and the way they craft beautiful narratives from chapter to chapter is truly magical, definitely don’t miss out on them!! <33

and as always let me know if you like my own attempt at this trope by liking, reblogging and/or commenting 💕

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dduane · 2 months ago

Text

Invictus

In the dimness he woke and knew it was too late. Morning never came so late unless the world was ending.

Fortunately, he knew what to do about that.

He blinked and ruffled his feathers, looking around. This was his place. Surrounding a patch of grass were two holly trees, a pine, a cypress whose branches all went the wrong way, and much shrubbery, mostly beech and thorn. The shelter was good here, even on nights like last night. And in the holly, food appeared hung up: good food that tasted of fat and meat. It was all his. Later, when it was time for sex, there would be someone else who’d get some of it. But right now, he owned it.

This cold white stuff on the ground did complicate matters. It came and went without warning, and here it was again. Now, others who might have spent the morning scratching around the ground instead of stuffing themselves full up here would be turning up in his territory, eating his food. His feathers ruffled up again, this time with rage at the thought. Bastards. Bastards. Kill them all.

He hopped up onto the branch that had the best view across the patch of grass and into the bushes, and sang. Bastards! Who wants a piece of me? Come and get it! Because this was when it had to be said, no matter how much you might have preferred to sit quiet with your feathers fluffed up, conserving your heat. The dim sky was already paling toward that too-cold blue. It would be a bad day, cold, everybody and his family would turn up here trying to get at the tree food, which was what you needed this time of year if you meant to stay alive until dusk –

And suddenly he heard the harsh dark cawing coming from across the hardened path, across the wall, in the wood full of tall starved pines. He shivered. Not so early, he thought, what are you doing up at this hour? But he knew. That one wanted the tree-food too. It had come for it before. Now, in the silence before the morning wind, he heard the flapping of the wings.

Hastily he turned to the food cage, ate a few mouthfuls, felt the fat melt down his throat like blood, like life. Almost before he finished, the darkness had landed with a noisy thrash of leaves and branches up in the holly. A huge expressionless black eye gazed down at him.

He sang. It was almost all he could do. It’s mine! Stay away, or I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you! But the outcome was hardly so simple. The black-headed, white-backed shape with the axe-like beak bounced down another branch, and another, its eye on that tree food, that meat. It liked meat too. He’d once seen it zoom down onto the pond and simply pick up a baby duck and fly off with it. I’ll kill you if you get any closer! Don’t push me! I will!

It came closer. It was winter, it was death, the shape now only one branch of holly away. He sang as if life depended on it: because it did. If he had enough to eat, the sun came up. If the sun came up, the world was safe. It was as simple as that. Go away! I have to eat the food or the world will end! I’ll kill you to keep that from happening! Monster, go away, don’t make me rip you up — ! He fluttered at the monstrous gaping head, enraged, desperate.

A clacketing, rattling noise from behind. The black eye went wide, the death-pale bulk roused its wings and flapped clumsily out of the holly tree. Desperate with relief, he flung himself at the food-cage again, and ate with frantic speed as the sky paled brighter, toward day-blue: and between mouthfuls, he sang at the top of his lungs, shuddering with relief and triumph. Bastard! I warned you not to mess with me! Victory! Victory!

The sun peered up over the far hill. The shadows fled. He gorged himself as the black bird flew off, and stopped, and shouted again, Victory!

…She stood there with her mug in one hand, looking out across the back yard snow at the dot of red breast deep in among the holly branches, pecking furiously at the suet in its little cage. “Boy,” she said to the husband, back in the kitchen, “listen to that guy. You’d think he’d just won World War Three.”

“Yeah. Where’s the milk?”

The door closed. On the snow, the sun of the shortest day shone.

Victory!

#solstice #winter solstice #fiction #murder birb

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thethingswedotomorrow · 1 year ago

Text

Crowley has been with humanity since the beginning. The original serpent of eden, he is the first "monster" in humanity's bedtime stories. He is the figurative and literal demon on human's shoulders, always there to guide them one way or another. He's weaved through history itself, and prides himself on an impeccable track record of demonic activity throughout the last 6000 years.

But, naturally, after 6000 years, Crowley finds that he's spent more time pining after a certain Angel than doing any sort of work. Like, an extreme amount of pining.

And it isn't until after the notpocalypse that Crowley realizes that, entirely accidentally and very embarrassingly, he may have accidentally made his pining very, very public.

One of Crowley's favorite ways to waste a day is to take Aziraphale to different museums around the world and watch as the angel wanders around and points out all of the inaccuracies

"Good Lord Crowley, have you seen this painting? Portraying you as a dragon is a tad dramatic, I think. All we were doing were having a picnic. And I have never had my hair looking like that, thank you."

"I don't know Angel, they've got your wings spot on. Wa-Hang on, have they added horns to my head?"

"Oh, I see, suddenly it's only inaccurate when they've got you wrong."

The museums always seem to be miraculously empty, and whenever Crowley mentions this, Aziraphale suddenly finds a new, very interesting piece of art to admire

Crowley admires the lengths Aziraphale goes to to hide the small miracles he's done for Crowley's sake

As if Crowley wouldn't move literal mountains for the angel

*He did, actually, do that once.

In the 12th century, they were having a lovely evening together with multiple caskets of wine, up until Aziraphale complained about the amount of light in his eyes

"Honestly Crowley, all this sun and no shade, it must truly be awful for the humans around here with no shelter. It's a tad much, even for me."

Crowley, even then, immediately recognized this off-hand comment as an underhanded complaint, and knew that would not stand

When the small earthquake passed, Crowley claimed that the nearby church was on a fault line and he was simply doing his demonic duty by damaging holy goods in the area

If Aziraphale realized that the mountain range in the distance suddenly provided much more sun coverage, he never mentioned it.

Currently, however, Crowley follows Aziraphale around, wandering behind him and never truly looking at the things in the museum

In every single place they've ever gone together, there was only ever one thing that deserved Crowley's attention

And it certainly was not an inaccurate model of a 18th century tea set

But when Aziraphale wanders into a hall titled 'Love of the Past', he starts to panic. Just a very tiny amount, basically none at all. A small enough amount of panic that he could deny it, even to himself.

He thinks about the past, towards the beginning, back when Humanity was still getting it's footing and figuring out how to have governments and societies and (the most important part) figuring out the whole alcohol situation

Throughout the years, especially towards the beginning, Crowley began to resent any time not spent with Aziraphale

Everything seemed small and dull when compared to the way the Angel smiled when he saw new type of human dessert, or the way he laughed when Crowley managed to work out a clever comment

And once Crowley experienced those things, he never wanted anything else

He had seen the poetry the humans had written, how much emotion they could pour into a simple piece of parchment or a clay tablet

He never cared for written word, but he was shocked at just how much feeling the humans could manage to pour into words

So after Aziraphale left Rome (after the oysters and the wine and the smiles, for somebody's sake the smiles), he went due east for a new miracle on another continent

Crowley stayed and got well and truly drunk. As he did best.

He had spent a few weeks around the other drunks around the area, most poverty stricken and saddened with some sort of grief of one type or another

It wasn't until a group of poets wandered into his dark corner of the pub that he started to considered writing

Obviously nothing anyone would ever read, he'd ensure that. Every scroll or parchment that he'd touch with a quill would be burnt with hellfire before it left his sight

But, as many of his worst ideas started, he had nothing better to do and too much time to think

So he wrote. He wrote letters, first addressed to nobody, about random thoughts that would pop into his very intoxicated brain. Whether humans would ever find traces of the unicorns they lost on the ark, whether he would ever find a way to count just how many scales he had, whether he would ever reach a point where he didn't have to cover his eyes every day

Slowly, the letters started becoming addressed to 'A'. Whether he was conscious of this or not, he'd never admit.

But he wrote. He wrote to A about Hell, the jobs they required of him, the things they'd have him do. He wrote of the way humans had beaten him to the punch 90% of the time. How they would do things worse than Satan himself could imagine, and they'd never blink an eye while doing it.

He wrote of the way the sun darkened each day that passed without his Angel, the way his wine never seemed to have enough flavor when he was alone.

He wrote of the ways he imagined he could orchestrate an elaborate reunion, a convoluted mess of too much demonic activity in a small area that just happened to have a wonderful new tea, or so he's heard, and wouldn't it be a shame to leave the town without tempting the angel to try it?

He wrote to A about how he was sure he had no heart, no emotions. He was a Demon, for somebody's sake, he certainly had no need for stupid things like that, and so the ache in his corporation's chest when he sees the Angel had to be some sort of malfunction.

Anatural function, surely, that could be fixed with the right amount of aloofness and strong liquor

He wrote of the way the sun always seemed to hit the Angel's hair just right, and Crowley had no faith, he had no God.

But in those moments, with a halo around the angel and that smile aimed towards him, he might consider praying now to a different source altogether, a closer source. One full of life and light and actual proper goodness, not that fake advertised bullshit they plaster on church walls in pretty paintings and sad songs

Crowley wrote for a long while, and found that the writing helped the pain.

Even if only because it brought on memories of Aziraphale, and that was enough to hold him until they met again. It had to be, he had no choice in the matter.

And he wrote so often throughout the ages, and often while he was drunk. And he was so sure, so positive that he had burned every trace of his heart and emotion out of existence.

He had to be. The danger those words could put Aziraphale in was far too great. He couldn't be bothered to care of the danger to himself, but the fact that the very hint of any emotion could come close to hurting his Angel was enough to ensure that they would never come across another being's eyes.

He destroyed every letter and word that described his desire, his pain, his greed. He ripped the words he created out of reality as easily as he had written them. Every time, he burnt the parchment, and every time, it burnt a part of him with it.

And then the Apocalypse had happened. Or, well, didn't happen, he supposed. Really, he wasn't entirely sure if there was a difference.

Because everything had changed, even if the rest of the world hadn't noticed. And he was suddenly allowed to see Aziraphale with no excuse, no half-hearted reasoning behind it. He was allowed to want, and to crave, and he relished it.

And he was allowed to take the angel to museums to watch him fuss over small mistakes humanity had collected throughout the ages

Until he realized that they had, in fact, also collected HIS mistakes.

In a hall. A whole bloody hall. A hall, dedicated to and full of stupid parchment and sappy letters and wine stains over words written so long ago

And honestly who gave them the right? Leave it to the humans to collect other people's belongings and put it on display as their own

And he knew, from the moment Aziraphale read the first page on display, he just knew. This was it. All of it was ruined.

All because Crowley had gotten so drunk and passed out in his room above the pub, and when they'd thrown him out in a drunken stupor, they'd collected his belongings to sell afterwards. And he'd never even realized, so concerned about the next meeting, the arrangement, concerned about anything and everything except the one thing he forgot about and could end them both.

Any moment now, Aziraphale would look up at him, with disgust and confusion and all those emotions that he'd really rather not see on his face, preferably ever, but especially not towards him.

But Aziraphale never looks up. He reads the first page 5, 6, 7 times, being sure to capture every single word. Every wrinkle in the paper, every crease.

Then he moves to the next, and then the next. He repeats this process. Every page, he scours each and every page. Searching and scanning, analyzing every word.

Crowley is frozen at the entrance of the hall, too terrifed to say a word, but too hopeful to leave. He stands there, suddenly feeling the same feeling in his chest that he felt so many years ago, in the corner of the pub, sitting in the dark, wishing for the light that he knew would never come.

He's so panicked, that he doesn't notice Aziraphale finishing the last page, and wiping the tears from his eyes. He startles when he accidentally meets his eyes, and prepares a number of excuses and deflections, all to preserve this shred of peace and safety they had carved out for themselves.

"Angel, I- you really- ngk- humans are so rid- are you hungry? I could eat, I've heard they've got a killer bar around here, and we cou-I can get us there in 10 minutes, ngk actu- scratch that, we could be there in 5, I bet. Museums aren-angel?"

Crowley finds himself stopping the random stream of words coming out of his mouth, when he notices tears in Aziraphale's eyes

"Angel, I-"

That's all Crowley can get out before Aziraphale is walking towards him with a purpose

And suddenly Aziraphale is very close to him

Very very close

And suddenly Aziraphale's lips are on his, and Aziraphale is holding onto Crowley's jacket, and Crowley's hands are just waving in the air back and forth while he processes the last .5 seconds.

By the time he realizes what is actually happening, Aziraphale pulls away just enough to rest his forehead against Crowley's, and laughs.

He laughs. Laughs. Aziraphale is laughing and it's a wonderful, beautiful noise and Crowley doesn't quite understand why, but then he's laughing too and then they are both standing there, arms around each other, laughing and Crowley realizes now that all the words he's written, all the praises he sang of his Aziraphale, the way he wished and prayed for his heart and laugh and love

Not one bit of it is at all comparable to the real thing.

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