#thank you Eclipse for ending my suffering | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wheneclipsefalls · 1 year

Text

Withered

Beautiful Adult Neteyam photo by the wonderful @cinetrix

Pairing: Alpha Neteyam x Beta Fem Omatikaya Reader

Synopsis: You and Neteyam have opposite lives. He thrives in the daylight of possibilities while you are forced to the shadows. You are sure that the right course of action would be letting the future Olo'eyktan go. Neteyam is less convinced.

Based on a request from my 🥔 anon

Warnings: aged up characters, aged up neteyam, angst, health problems, explicit smut, dirty talk, crying, miscommunication, p in v, virgin reader, first time, omegaverse, alpha/beta relationship dynamic, heat, sickness, 18+ only MDNI

Tanhi: star/little star I Yawne: beloved I Sevin: pretty I Mawey: calm

A/N: I can't tell you all enough how grateful I am for the hype and many comments that have been around this story just from that small sneak peek I posted. This ended up being a lot longer than I ever anticipated but I had a blast writing it. Please let me know what you think. I love hearing from y'all!

For many the sun is a symbol of warmth, peace, and solace. The bright rays enwrap Na’vi of all ages in the glow of Eywa’s love. The rise of morning light represents a new day, another chance for adventure and possibilities. When the illuminating glow of yellow sunshine transforms into streaks of vibrant purples and pinks, it indicates a time for families to come together and tuck in for the night.

However, for you, your day truly begins at the first glow of bioluminescence. Eclipse is your time to explore the world.

You were born with an almost unheard of disease. It only took a few days of your infant body breaking out into abnormal rashes for Tsahik to realize something was wrong. Exposure of more than a few minutes to sunshine causes detrimental effects to your body. For this reason, you are forced to avoid the vibrant glow of the sun.

From that moment on you have lived your life almost nocturnally. On lucky days the clouds protect you from the harmful UV rays. Rain has come to be your favorite weather as it allows you an escape from your hut.

Despite these difficulties you have always strived to remain positive. You thank your parents for their gracious attitudes that inspire you to look for the silver lining in all situations. Sure you can not sunbathe or prowl the forest during sunny days but no one knows the forest at Eclipse as well as you do. Your knowledge has come in handy more than a few times, being asked to guide night hunts with some of the most notorious warriors in the clan.

This is where you met Neteyam.

The firstborn of the infamous Toruk Makto and your future Olo’eyktan, you originally assumed he would have no interest in interacting with you. You knew him from afar, hearing the word spread of his kindness and diligence when it came to helping those around him. His alpha status only served to bring a larger gaggle of girls practically falling at his feet. As a beta and suffering from a rare condition, you naturally took yourself out of the run up. You were confident he would choose some sweet and knowledgeable omega that would be the perfect tsahik.

However, your assumptions quickly crumbled as he progressively paid attention to you more and more throughout these night hunts. Instead of joining the rest of the alpha warriors gathering to share a strong drink after a successful kill, he would opt to check in with you. You were shy at first, unsure of how to act around such an influential member of the clan. However, there was something about those golden orbs and soft smile that quickly set you at ease.

You still remember the first time you had sustained a small injury during these hunts. It was nothing more than a shallow slash to your forearm, but Neteyam had insisted on carefully wrapping it himself. You gushed over him like an idiot, reminding him that it was unnecessary but he showed his stubborn side that day.

At first you thought it was your own overactive imagination noticing the frequency of night hunts he signed up for increase, but eventually it had become every single night. No matter how boned-tired he was from a day of full Olo’eyktan training, he would beam at the sight of your small form. His scent was something that seemed to constantly enrapture your senses. The heavy essence of pine and hormonal swings was so much stronger than yours. It took some getting used to. The first few nights you were bashful to come home and find evidence of your arousal dampening your loincloth.

Still, you told yourself it was just a simple crush that you had to live with. It took weeks for you to even consider the possibility of Neteyam showing interest in you. He had been consistent in bringing you out of your shell, getting you to talk about everything from your family to the fondest hope and dreams in your heart. Oftentimes he would stay back behind after the hunt to help you join him sitting on an overarching thick branch (you were grateful for the darkness of eclipse that hid your blush each time he effortlessly hoisted you up with large hands gently holding your waist) and chat away into the night.

It was only when the gifts began that you gave these interactions a second thought. It had started small with simple flowers and fruits he had encountered throughout the day. However, they slowly became more intricate. The first time he brought you a small woven bracelet of sparkling gems, you had been gobsmacked.

“Like the night sky. The only thing appropriate for my tanhi.” He had said, making you almost choke on your own spit. Tahni- little star: a nickname he had coined for you after the first week. A fitting term for someone that only knew the night sky. Still, it was the first time he had ever called you his. The terminology was not lost on you.

When the sun arose once more and you had retired back to your protected hut, those words had kept you up, your small fingers twiddling with the bracelet.

Taking your acceptance of the small gift, Neteyam had become even more bold with his courting. Before you knew it he was bringing a meal with him for you before every hunt. You had tried to decline the thoughtful gesture but he would not take no for an answer.

“Someone has to make sure you eat, tanhi.”

There was no fighting the alpha on this, so you graciously took the meals each night. He smiled proudly as you moaned in satisfaction of the carefully seasoned meat he had killed and prepared for you. Another testament to the mighty warrior and beneficial mate he is.

You started to think that the eldest Sully was simply a flirt, or perhaps such a kind person that his actions came off as romantic. However, there was one instance that finally tipped you to accepting his affections. It was a particularly successful hunt, dragging home a thanator, when he had slowed down to your pace. Talking about anything and everything under the night sky, your breath was practically stolen from your lungs when he reached out to tuck a strand of your dark hair behind your ear.

However innocent the gesture was, it was the lingering of his hand running down your neck that caused your heart to bash against your rib cage violently. A simple brush that had left his scent to coalesce with yours. An essence that would keep other suitors away. Out of habit, you mentally went to play it off as a simple accident, but the crooked smirk plastered across his face did not allow you. There was a primal satisfaction seated in those golden orbs, one that caused a pool of arousal to gather in your core.

He knew what he had done.

Neteyam was proud of it.

His affection was untethered from that point forward. Accidental brushes of fingers had turned into blatant hand holding. The alpha never missed an opportunity to press a warm hand to the small of your back, guiding you through the terrain, or wrap an arm around your waist in order to steady you when walking over uneven forest floor.

“What kind of alpha would I be if I let you get hurt?”

He had spoken in response to your inquiry, a cheeky grin plastered across his face.

Falling for Neteyam was easy. Too easy. It was keeping yourself back from jumping into his arms or melting into his embraces that was difficult. No matter how strange and suggestive his behavior had been, you didn’t want to get your hopes up. After all, there was no saying what he got up to during the day. For all you knew he could be taking omegas out every day and weaving sweet gifts for them too.

So you had decided to do what was best for everyone and take yourself out of the situation before something embarrassing could happen. You declined the request to accompany the hunting party and instead went to spend some more time with your family. If your parents noticed the difference in your appearance they did not show it. They were always good at giving you space, respecting your independence as an adult (although your mother did go out of her way to place a comforting hand on your shoulder, a silent way to express her understanding and love). Neither of them knew about Neteyam at the time, it was easier that way.

This fact only heightened their surprise when they saw Toruk Makto’s eldest son approaching their small gathering. You can still remember the intent gaze that Neteyam pierced you with. Your heart hammered out of your chest, hands fidgeting with the moss beneath you nervously. Neteyam signaled the traditional greeting to your parents before respectfully asking your father if he could borrow you for a moment.

They were caught off guard, your dad turning back to send you a curious look, but naturally neither wanted to decline the Omatikaya prince.

Once the two of you were finally alone, Neteyam immediately sprang into action. He grabbed your biceps and used that hold to turn you from side to side as he scanned your form. His intense inspection had blood rushing to your cheeks.

“Neteyam, what are you doing? I thou-”

“Where are you injured?” You twitched when he reached a hand out to inspect your flicking tail too. Confusion swarmed within you. You had sputtered and struggled to put together a full sentence.

“It has been three days, Tanhi. I blew one day off as exhaustion or a fluke and the second as pure coincidence but surely only an injury would keep you away from the hunt for three days.” His eyes finally met yours again when there was no wound to be found. His tall frame had towered over yours as he reached out to cup your cheek.

That familiar warmth and adoration you had for him had returned within an instant.

You stepped back, successfully out of his grasp.

“I’m fine.” You replied simply.

His tail swatted in the humid air and those golden orbs had squinted into slits. The focused attention of that look full of suspicion was enough to hold you down to your spot. You swallowed the lump in your throat and as you tried desperately to keep the fidgeting at bay. It was one of the few times you were grateful to be beta because surely an omega would shrivel under the pressure of his looming presence.

“I don’t like when you lie to me, Tahni. Now tell me why I’ve had to go without my little star for three whole days.” Neteyam placed his hands sternly upon his hips, ears twitching forward as if preparing to take in your explanation. An explanation that you felt could not be shared. Doing so was bound to undermine your plans, completely destroying the efforts that had been made.

“The group seems to be more than sufficient without my guidance.” You don’t dare to meet his eyes, your own orbs trained at the ground instead. In a moment’s notice his sculpted body was once again inches away from yours. His warmth came off of him in waves, along with the heady aura of alpha pheromones.

You couldn’t hold back the shiver that ran down your spine when he placed heavy hands on your shoulders and bent over your frame till you could feel his calm breath against your ear. Neteyam’s tail wrapped around your thigh. A part of your brain told you to run, understanding the alluring danger that awaited you, while the other yearned to curl up against his impressive physique.

You couldn’t understand how any omega managed to be around this male without completely dropping to their knees.

Suddenly you had some sympathy for the girls that had always fawned over him.

“Tell me the truth, sevin.” The heated words tickled at your ears and made your heart skip a beat. It was foolish to think that there was any chance of lying to Neteyam, the mighty warrior that walked with the confidence of the supernatural.

So you did.

You had scrambled to messily explain how it would be best if the two of you spent less time together. Unfortunately this unrehearsed synopsis included an approach that painted yourself as the foolish beta with a crush on the Omatikaya prince and therefore unable to handle herself around him. It was not the perspective you had hoped for, but it was the only one that could have been presented in your state of jumbled thought.

Neteyam shook his head, an almost fond smile upon his lips.

“Tanhi, you really do not like to make things easy for me.” A bitter laugh escaped his throat. The sound put you slightly on edge but there was no trace of anger in his expression. Amusement was easily perceivable in the raise of his hairless eyebrows. He had taken your humiliating and pathetic explanation in stride, in fact, he had found humor in it.

“I thought I’ve made myself clear.” You were swooped into the encirclement of his arms in one quick motion. You squeaked and braced yourself against the warm muscles of his abdomen. “You are the mate I seek.”

His words had thrown you into a spiral, your heartstrings plucking into rhythms of heightened emotion. It was almost too much to take in. A part of you still found security in denying these bold claims but there had been too much evidence at that point. Neteyam Sully had in fact been courting you.

His head lowered, nuzzling at your face until you finally looked up at him. Your lips were only a breath apart.

“If you’ll have me.” Neteyam whispered.

There was no fighting the longings of your heart at that rate. That night you had agreed to his courting and within a month the two of you had been madly in love and preparing to officially mate.

The process was faster, seemingly faster than anything else in your life. Night had always slowed you down from progressing in the normal rhythm of Na’vi milestones, but Neteyam had broken that pattern for you.

You can still remember the vivid sensation of his tendrils connecting with your own. Those sparks of electricity that had created a direct line to his innermost feelings and thoughts. There was great solace to be found in the surging feelings of love and adoration he had for you, something you had been able to tap into. Still, nothing could ever compare with the way you felt for Neteyam.

He’s your world. Your light. Your sun.

Being with him feels like finally having a taste of those golden rays. You can see it in his smile. In the shake of his shoulders when his laughter trickles from soft lips. In the unashamed sparkle that overtakes his eyes in a coating whenever they land on you after a long day of training.

Neteyam has become your world in only a matter of a few months. It is hard to imagine how you went so many years without this unbreakable connection between the two of you. Each night you wake up to the warm embrace of your mate who has come home from a long day of training. Soft kisses are placed along your eyelids, cheeks, and nose until your thick lashes flutter and you regain consciousness.

The searing envious looks of other females can be felt at your back when the two of you join the rest of the clan for dinner each night, but it is only white noise in the presence of your handsome mate guiding you with a hand to the small of your back. In fact it becomes less than a passing memory when Neteyam goes on to share the events of the day in great detail, usually pulling out a tucked away gift he has found for you along the trails of his adventures.

There is so much hidden beneath that emanating exterior of perfection that Neteyam upholds. He strips away those layers only for you, usually among the flowering meadow the two of you lay in while stargazing. The stories often end with your mate trailing off into a groggy murmur until the air fills with the sounds of his sleeping breaths. You prefer to stay tucked against him for a while longer, letting the moment last before you must wake him and shoo the mighty warrior back home for some much needed rest.

While he sleeps you venture from the hut to forage and hunt, although Neteyam prefers to accompany you during dangerous hunts. You decide that what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him. He is known to be an overprotective alpha anyway. Once food has been secured and your adventures have come to a close, you slip back into the darkened hut before the first break of dawn. Those specially made thick curtains are the difference between life and death for you.

Although the tent has been sufficient for years, Neteyam continues to add to its layers. He is constantly worrying about the vulnerabilities of the hut, convinced that one slip could bring catastrophic consequences to his mate. So he works with his father to constantly rebuild and strengthen the exterior walls. There are times where you remind him of how unnecessary these actions are but Neteyam is undeterred by these conversations. So you let your mate continue his projects. If it brings him peace of mind to obsess over the structure then it must be doing some good.

Things are great for the first month. Nothing sexual occurs during those first few weeks of being newly mated, out of respect to you. There is no denying that Neteyam has had experience in the ways of pleasuring females but you on the other hand have never been close to intimate with someone else. As a couple you decide to take things slow. However, you can not help but admire the restraint Neteyam shows when you catch the shift of his pheromones into that of lust or see the tightness of his loincloth after a particularly long make out session.

Were it any other alpha you are sure that the time would have come for him to become impatient and work towards persuading you to go further with him. However, Neteyam knows that you are shy and nervous. He puts your needs before his own and constantly assures you that he is happy to wait so long as you feel comfortable when the time is right.

Your apprehension has slowly been melting away. The soft caresses that travel along your form sends a burning thrill that is exotic to you. Moments where you are brave enough to straddle his lap while kissing, the friction of his groin against your core is electric. These new feelings have been quickly festering and building inside of you. The nerves have slowly morphed into alluring curiosity. It has been becoming harder to hold back.

For this reason, you’ve decided to tell Neteyam tonight that you are ready. Finally, the bond created through tsaheylu will be strengthened and confirmed by the intertwining of each other’s bodies.

The last hints of sunshine have disappeared behind the moon. This time you wake before Neteyam has a chance to come wake you up himself. The nerves that bundle into a coil in your stomach have kept you from sleeping in so you decide to seek him out yourself. It shouldn’t be long till he is back from an exhibition with Jake.

The village is lively with reuniting families after a prosperous day of duties. It's a familiar sight that has always brought a warmth to your heart, especially that of small children running to their mothers or fathers with grabby hands. There are times where you imagine sending your own child to wobble excitedly towards Neteyam, spun through the air by the mighty warrior that you are lucky enough to call your mate.

High in the trees, hidden by the walls of a family hut you hear the familiar voice of Lo’ak. A smile tugs at your lips, confident that Neteyam is sure to be with his brother. However, that excitement is dampened slightly when the responding voice is not your mate’s but Unip’s.

“I just don’t know how long he thinks this can go on.” Unip sighs.

“Well you know how Neteyam is. He will find a way to succeed and if not, he will die trying.” Lo’ak snorts, but there is a hint of concern in his nonchalant tone. It’s a timber that makes you halt in your tracks and ears twitch to hear the conversation.

“It’s only going to get worse, you know. Once he is Olo’eyktan, half a night’s rest will not be enough anymore. He already looks half dead.”

There is a silence that follows, only filled by the sound of your own heart thumping.

“You’re never going to convince him otherwise, bro.” Lo’ak responds, amused tone faltering greatly.

Stepping forward, you curve yourself around a thick tree trunk in effort to discreetly get a better look at the pair. Lo’ak’s back is facing towards you but even from this low vantage point, the lines of his tense muscle are easy to spot. Your golden eyes have become specialized for seeing in the dark after all these years, allowing a better image of his form and mannerisms. You are used to reading people’s expressions and body language with only the dim glow of eclipse.

“Stubborn skxawng.” Unip shakes his head before leaning against the sturdy trunk. His scowl is illuminated by the soft red glow of a patch of sprouting flowers. The sight makes your stomach twist.

Have things truly gotten this bad?

“Neteyam won’t leave her. You and I both know that. All that can be done is make peace with it.” Lo’ak shrugs his shoulders.

“And watch him turn into an old man in a few years. Those bags are sure to be bad for his pretty boy appearance.” Unip quips back, causing both the males to break out into laughter.

The tension visibly eases between them but you are not laughing. In fact, you can feel the beginning of those twisting nerves pushing bile up your throat. All joyful anticipation has washed from your features, replaced with dread and horror.

Your feet drum against the forest floor, stuck on autopilot and effectively taking you home. The beginning of streaming tears threaten to drop past your eyes.

It’s true that Neteyam has been tired but it isn’t till now that you reply back your interactions and his recent appearance. Those dark circles aren’t as prevalent in the light of eclipse, perhaps they are more telling in daylight. Neteyam has a way of falling asleep in a matter of seconds once hitting the mat but you have always assumed that to be a part of his nature. Some people are naturally deep sleepers.

However, now, all of these signs appear in a different light for you. Each conversation is played back in your head but of course Neteyam has never let his weaknesses show, especially ones that could be brought on by you. You know this and yet it is only now that you scold yourself for not being more perceptive, for not seeking advice and perspective from those around him.

His family and friends have an advantage that you can not achieve. Surely they would be the first to notice his changes in demeanor and health. They are the ones watching him work, train, and interact more closely with clan members. You have never been more envious of those walking in the sun in your entire life. This condition has always been a hassle for you but now it has turned into true heartache.

This weakness that Eywa has given you is no longer just affecting you but now your perfect mate. This disease has spread to him in a way you scold yourself for not anticipating.

How is he supposed to become Olo’eyktan, protecting and guiding the People all while being tethered to you?

Eywa has destined your life to be forever restricted to the shadows, but that is not Neteyam’s path.

You can spot the familiar dark canvases of your hut in the trees up ahead. No doubt Neteyam has already returned home at this point, if not then he will soon. Less than an hour earlier you were ecstatic to see him but now the thought of seeing those tired eyes makes you want to curl up into a ball.

Needing more time to process, you opt to take a different route, one that leads to a secluded waterfall. Safe in the greenery and now sitting in the shallow area of the glowing water, you take a moment to breathe. Water trickles into a soothing pattern that has been associated with your memories in this found sanctuary.

Truly, none of this should be a surprise. This ailment has been the driving course of your life thus far and you’ve grown used to it, letting go of certain aspects that are not meant for you. Neteyam is just another one of those. He is beyond your reach. Keeping him here would only hurt the clan. They need a leader that can be with them, present both physically and mentally. For the greater good it is time to let him become that Olo’eyktan.

Perhaps you would have accepted this fact and stuck to it earlier on were it not for the great love you hold for him. Neteyam Sully holds your heart and soul effortlessly in his hands. There will never be another that lights up your life the same way he does and truth be told, you don’t want there to be. Forever your first and only love.

Regardless, the time for being selfish is over.

Some Na’vi have the honor of dying a warrior’s death, going down in the name of protecting the People. Others sacrifice their time and energy serving the clan daily in the name of Eywa. You have been kept back from either of these duties so it makes sense that giving up the future Olo’eyktan would be your contribution.

After all, how are you supposed to serve as Tsahik with your limitations?

This makes sense. Your brian tells you this is the logical solution. Life will go on. You will return back to a life that you have come to be content with over the years and Neteyam will find a proper mate that can serve The People by his side.

Still, it is impossible to ignore the cracks that are slowly developing in your heart. It is difficult to imagine a life without your true love. The thought alone has a sob crawling up your throat. This sound however is morphed into a strange shriek when a pair of muscular arms suddenly grasp and pull you back against a hard chest.

The water splashes around the two of you and you can feel the rumble of Neteyam’s laughter as you are awkwardly shifted in his arms.

“Baby girl, you are really off your game today.” He teases fondly before nuzzling his face into the curve of your neck. An efficient shuffle has you more familiarly settled between the corded muscle of his toned thighs. Instinctually you lean back against him.

“What? Nothing to say in your defense?”

“Oh yeah uh just tired.” You lamely respond.

“Silly Tanhi, today has barely begun.”

For you.

The day has barely begun for you and only you. Every other Na’vi enjoy the blissful alignment of the sun and their ‘days’. You are the outlier.

Gathering up your courage you finally lift yourself onto your knees and turn to face him. Neteyam grins, but for once you aren’t focused on the gleams of those pearly teeth. Sure enough there are dark circles in a crescent shape beneath his eyes. You reach out to thumb at those dark contrasts. The alpha blissfully misreads this as cupping his cheek. He leans into the touch and his smile broadens.

“My sweet sevin.” He mumbles. Your stomach tightens back into that knot. Finally, he seems to notice the shift in your demeanor. The smile falters and he places his hand over the one cupping his cheek. The large veined hand completely covers yours.

“What’s wrong?”

It seems an impossible task to go through with what you know must be done. A part of you considers holding off, letting it last a little longer before you lose him forever. However, that would only result in a more sleep deprived Omatikaya Prince and the suffering of future Olo’eyktan.

The longer you take to respond the faster the amusement in those golden orbs declines. He calls your name softly and turns his head to gently peck your palm.

“I just-” You steady yourself. The words feel like acid crawling up your throat and sitting pressed against him only makes it burn more. Cautiously you detach yourself completely and settle down on the colorful rocks lining the shallow river.

Neteyam immediately stiffens. His tail curls up into high alert and his ears twitch back slightly, but still you can see the now fake smile plastered on his face.

“You’re…tired.” It’s a weak start but they are the only words you can force out.

There is a flicker of surprise in his features but it melts away into a mocking eye roll. The corners of his lips are back to being turned up in a more genuine manner.

“Well of course I’m a little tired Tanhi. Every mighty warrior should be if he’s done his job right.” The alpha chuckles and you can almost taste the deviation of his pheromones. He confidently reaches out to take your hand in his. “But never too tired to spend time with my sweet little star.”

The cool rush of water is a dramatic contrast to the warm grasp Neteyam has on your hand. It feels like fire that curls up your veins and pushes tears to the back of your eyes. It’s too painful to be close like this. To see him obliviously flirt and cuddle as if all is well when you know deep down that this will be the last time you feel his touch.

“No, I mean exhausted. Ma Neteyam-” You shut your mouth tight. That phrase was so easily in your arsenal of vocabulary but it’s time to start training yourself to stop using it. You brush the circles under his eyes again. “You haven’t been getting enough sleep.”

Realization seems to dawn for him.

“Oh you mean my eyes. Lo’ak was teasing me earlier about it. Didn’t think it would bother you so much, sevin, but I’m sure my grandmother has some herbs to lighten the color.” He laughs lightly.

“No, Neteyam. This is bad for you. Staying up every night only to push yourself to the limit the next day. Living in that darkened hut. Spending every last fiber of energy you have spending time with me. Taking care of me-”

“That is what mates do, Tanhi. I don’t want it any other way-”

“I am bad for you!”

The words cut through the air and suddenly every remnant of the playful atmosphere has disappeared.

“Don’t say stuff like that, Tanhi.” His voice is firm, stern enough to be considered reprimanding. Neteyam eyes darken onto a duller glow. The musky scent of your mate shifts into that of a stronger presence. It’s moments like that that you remember how distinct his second gender is.

“Neteyam, you know I’m right. This condition is no longer just hurting me but you too. Playing this game of back and forth makes no sense.”

He sits up straight, back stiff as a rod. It takes everything in you to hold that gaze without bursting into tears and backing down. The flicker of his tail has turned into frantic swatting as his lips curl downwards.

“What are you trying to say, love?”

You gulp and prepare yourself to utter words that weigh heavy in your heart.

“We have to end this.”

Silence drags on. The rush of running water and purring wildlife is the only thing that fills the air. Your tail swishes nervously in the water, causing a slight splash. No matter which way you squint or tilt your head, Neteyam’s expression is unreadable. Even your enhanced night vision is not enough to fully understand or anticipate the brewing emotions beneath those golden eyes.

“No.”

Your mind sputters to a halt at the snipped response. He’s giving you nothing to work with.

“Neteya-”

“Where is all of this coming from, yawne?” He reaches forward to cup your cheek but you stand up before he can. This close proximity is becoming too much. Perhaps it’s cowardly, but you need a reprieve from his love-filled gaze and tender touches. Otherwise, there is no way you will be able to do what needs to be done. You wonder if he knows this as you are met with a toned chest at eye level blocking your path.

“Did something happen?”

“No.”

“Then why are you so worried all of a sudden?” He pleads for an answer but you have finally managed to slip past him and wade out of the water. The drum of your feet rings in your ears, taking you to Eywa knows where. Neteyam is hot on your heels.

“It’s not just worry, it’s logic, Neteyam. Can’t you see? You are going to be Olo’eyktan. The People need a leader that won’t be tied to some nocturnal Na’vi that drains the last bit of energy you have left.”

The alpha goes to interject but the words are flying out of your mouth at such a speed at this rate, he has no opportunity.

“They will need a Tsahik that can do more than just work a night shift. Not to mention one that actually understand healing protocal-”

“My grandmother has already offered to teach you.” He counters, stomping feet practically nipping at your heels. It’s not that you mean to walk away from him, but the dam that holds your suffocating emotions at bay is starting to crack and crumble. One look at him could weaken your resolve. This has to be done fast, ripped off like an adhesive bandage.

“You deserve to be with someone that can lead The People with you. A mate that can serve both you and the clan in a way I never can. An omega that is a proper mate.”

A strong hand clamps around your bicep and spins you around. Neteyam glowers down at you with an intensity that is borderline desperate. The tears are starting to leave a glaze over your eyes, even as you avoid his own at any cost.

“You are my mate. You are the woman that I choose to spend the rest of my days with.” He tries to gently tilt your face towards him by grabbing your chin, but you flick it off. “We are mated before Eywa.” The crack in his voice tears at your heart.

“I shouldn’t have let it go on this long, I’m sorry. I foolishly let myself believe that you and I are meant to be but now it is clear that my head was simply in the clouds.” A sob thickens your voice until it is barely tangible. Words are failing you and you idly wonder how many more you will truly be able to manage in this state.

You attempt to flee from his embrace once more, just a moment to escape that heartbreaking stare that follows your every move. Neteyam holds you gently by the biceps but there is enough force there to keep you in place.

“We are, Tahni. All these other obstacles are just that, obstacles. Things we can overcome.” He slumps down, determined to finally have your eyes meet his. The curtain of your flowing hair is a weak shield against these efforts. You can feel the heat of his escalating breath tickle at your cheeks. He swoops in closer slowly, with the caution of closing in on a skittish prey. “It’s just you and me, little star.”

The flat of his nose finally rests against yours, lips only a sudden movement away.

There are promises of familiar comfort and happiness in this intimate position. Your nature keens towards his gentle touch. It prompts you to hide away every other concern, worried that it could break this moment of tranquility.

However, that is exactly what you do.

“You have to break it.”

There is a pause, a moment of shock that you take advantage of. Slipping out his hold, you watch realization slink across his features. It’s blood chilling, the look of horror that is clearly evident upon his handsome face. It’s a rare thing to render Neteyam speechless. He has grown up learning how to lead and command a room with confidence and grace. Seeing him now, mouth agape as his thoughts lag, it’s easier to see that there is simply a normal man behind the mighty warrior.

A male that you have managed to strip away the light in his eyes, all evidence of excitement lost.

It is now that you can truly see the aching restlessness and lost nights of sleep in his demeanor. He wilts before you.

“You don’t mean that.” He insists, voice now hollow of its usual domineering confidence.

“I do.” The timber of your voice shivers and shakes, doing nothing to strengthen your resolve. Still, the lost look that Neteyam sends you absolutely wrenches at your heart. “It’s what’s best for everyone.”

Words that are meant to reassure him at least slightly only make his tail halt movement, obvious that the phrase only digs the dagger deeper into his chest.

“Everyone?” He whispers, hairless eyebrows drawing together. Hesitant steps lead you backwards, eager to begin your journey away from this tornado of darkened emotions. Away from the raincloud you have created between the two of you. “You…this is what you want?”

Want.

That small word is a palpable distinction. To change this argument from what needs to be done to the inner workings of your desires and dreams. To veer it towards the ever flowing river of devotion and love you know will always be in your heart for him. It’s the one move that leaves you completely defenseless.

This is the last thing that you want.

He has to know that. He must know that. And perhaps that is why he faces you with this question head on, forcing you to say the words out loud. It’s a towering wall that you have no hopes of climbing. Lying is not your strong suit. Neteyam knows that.

“Please Neteyam.” You send your final plea before turning on your heel and bolting. Vanishing into the trees before he has a second to form one syllable.

Lying isn’t your strength, but hiding is something you are familiar with.

“She’ll probably cool down.” Lo’ak reassures him, handing a leaf with larvae to Neteyam.

“What did I do wrong?” Neteyam wonders out loud. It’s difficult for Lo’ak to tell whether or not that question is rhetorical. The eldest Sully’s eyes are focused on the horizon, he’s lost. Off somewhere else.

“Nothing, bro! Not everything is that simple.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Neteyam sees the wooden cup of strong drink pushed toward him but he declines. Drinking is the last thing he needs right now, although it is tempting. These past two days have been pure torture and sorrow. Washing every clouding thought away with the swig of fermented fruit would surely keep his mind off of you for a while, but it would never stop the permanent ache in his chest.

Although Neteyam knows he must look awful because even his father encourages him to drink, despite the duties he is set to carry out the next day. Most nights he is advised to keep his wits about him, but Jake has let up since the event.

“There has to be something I could’ve said. Perhaps something I can say now.”

“Bro, you’ve already said more than enough. If your constant notes and begging haven’t got her to let you into the hut, I don’t think words are the problem here.” A grimace is etched into Lo’ak’s features but Neteyam turns away from the sight. He can’t handle the look of pity that his family seems to constantly be shooting him.

He looks miserable. He is miserable. Every Na’vi with eyes can see that much. However, he doesn’t want sympathy. He needs solutions. A plan that will set things right again. Anything to bring his littler start back into his arms.

“Ma Teyam,” Neteyiri gently coos, haunching forward to tuck on the tangled braids behind his ear. “Perhaps it is time to give her some space.”

Usually his mother’s presence has the power to soothe away the worst of his worries, but today all he can do is sigh at her words. Sitting in problems has never been his strong suit. Neteyam is used to problem solving. Coming up with a strategy and executing it until the issue is nothing but a distant memory. He prays to Eywa that this too will become just that. Something that can be laughed at down the road.

However, sitting here now surrounded by people and never feeling more lonely, it’s hard to imagine ever laughing at such a thing.

Neteyam continues to pick at the grass next to the untouched meal. The sun has been down for over an hour now. Dinner is wrapping up and there is still no sight of you…again. Every crunch of a leaf or flitter of voices has him turning to search for your small frame in the darkness. It’s an effort that leaves him empty handed every time but, no matter the frequency of failure he can’t stop himself from whipping his head around anyway.

“You know, there was a time that I was upset with your father. Livid, actually. And yet here we are today.” Neytiri almost purrs, trying to comfort her son.

“Yeah and did he wait around and give you space?” The words come out harsher than intended but Neytiri doesn’t tell him off like usual. Instead her ears pin back and she runs a thumb across his cheek. Jake and Neytiri lock eyes from across the fire, a silent communication that has Jake clearing his throat.

“I’m not sure if I’m the prime example in this scenario, kid.” A deep chuckle accentuates Jake’s words. He goes to close his mouth and leave it at that but his mate sends him one fierce look that lets him know he is far from done comforting their eldest. “I mean uh truth be told, I was an absolute knucklehead before I met your mother.”

“Still are.” She corrects him.

Jake doesn’t try to fight against the claim, but he does nervously clasp the back of his neck, searching for the right words to say.

“Tanhi still hasn’t eaten. Must go.” Neteyam abruptly calls, on his feet within a heartbeat. He gently cradles his untouched meal in the palm of his hand as he navigates his way out of the circle of his family. Neytiri sighs and Jake sends her an apologetic look as they watch their son slither off into the night once again.

Even Tuk sends sad eyes in the direction of her older brother as he walks away.

Upon reaching the dark curtains of your hut, Neteyam is unsure whether or not you still reside inside. There is no sign of light emanating inwards. For a moment he is convinced that you have slipped out during his absence, but then there is a ruffle of covers that his ears manage to pick up. Stalking forward carefully, he leans in to pick up on every sound possible.

Even with his alpha hearing, there is little to no noise coming from the hut. Or at least no sound that is useful to him in any way. He wonders what you are up to within those darkened walls. His hindbrain urges him to go inside and find out for himself, cradle you in his arms till there are promises of never leaving again. However, he knows better than that.

Neteyam waits to be invited in.

“Tanhi?” The sound echoes through the night air, but no response comes. With a sigh he kneels down by the entrance, cautiously pushing the leaf underneath the thick rim of fabric.

“You missed dinner again.” Neteyam knows he shouldn’t expect a response at this point, but his tail still naturally droops to the floor when one doesn’t come. “I brought some for you.”

He waits once more, but silence hangs heavy in the air. Neteyam’s ears twitch to focus in on the minute sounds again. The shallow breathing is confirmation enough of your presence. A part of him almost wishes that he is talking to a blank piece of fabric. If you had left then he could have at least spent that anxious energy scouring the forest for your slim frame. If you had left it would give him hope that you’ve hunted, eaten, gone on a walk. Anything that isn’t sitting in your hut.

“Do me a favor, baby. Please eat something. Maybe you have been when I’m not breathing down your neck,” He gives a humorless laugh. “But…I just want to make sure you’re healthy. I’m starting to get worried.”

When the silence continues he doesn’t leave immediately. The weight of the stress and heartache is tangible. He can feel it in his bones. He can sense it when in the lag of his maneuvers and movements during flight in his training. Truth be told, Neteyam is sure that it’s visible to others, shining through in his trudging walk to and fro.

Sitting here in the grass, the same place he had spent that first night you started icing him out, he can feel the weight of sleep pulling him downwards. The muscles of his body scream in protest at every movement. Physically his body is ready to give way, but his hindbrain weaves together signs of distress all night long.

His instincts yearn to be close to you again, close to his mate who he shares a special connection with that nothing can replace. At times it is painful, that bond between the two of you. Neteyam remembers many days where that connection has been physically fortified by your time together, binding tighter with every brush of his fingers along your skin. However, he did not anticipate the effects of the opposite reaction.

Going to sleep alone and cold, leaves a heavy weight on his chest. At times it feels almost suffocating. Sleeping outside of your hut doesn’t erase these pains, but it does dull them slightly. He wonders if you’ve ever stepped over him during his slumber. Actively trying to or not, his senses remain on high alert throughout the night. He can wake at the drop of a leaf, false hope that it may be your small form finally stepping past those heavy curtains.

“Neteyam.” His head whips around at the voice, but it isn’t your honey timber that flits through his ears. Instead it comes from behind him, where Kiri stands with her hands woven together in front of her.

“What’s wrong?”

Not bothering to answer, she instead motions for him to follow her. He glances back at the entrance of your hut, but one look at Kiri’s down turned lips has him groggily shifting back onto his feet. She doesn’t speak till the two of them are out of ear shot.

“Mom and Dad sent you?” Neteyam guesses, tail already drooping between his legs. It bothers him that his parents are rushing to bandage things up, treating him like a child. Advice is appreciated at the best of times, but this is his life. He is an adult, and has been for years now. The rift that has been fortified between you two is his problem to solve and therefore his choice on how to fix it.

“No, just thought I would save you from making a fool of yourself.” She continues to effortlessly lead him away from the hut.

“I’m just dropping some food off.”

“I know.” There is no hint of mocking or disbelief in her tone. She simply grabs his hand gently and guides him back along the path home. Neteyam braces himself for a spew of advice but it never comes. Kiri to his surprise is silent, no hint of tension lingering between them. Still, he knows what message is being conveyed. No matter how much it hurts, he can’t continue to barricade your front door.

It’s moments like these that Neteyam comes to truly admire how much his younger sister has grown up. She prances through the forest with a humble confidence. Each step taken with the certainty of belonging. Kiri no longer needs others to tell her who she is. Similarly she feels no need to press her opinions on her older brother. She waits patiently. As if she knows that he will come to her when the time is right.

It is a quality he looks upon with great fondness and gratitude.

Life has thrown you more obstacles than you care to count. This condition has been a stumbling block your entire life, but you refuse to let it keep you from the finishing line. You consider yourself a persevering person, one that is not easily taken down. When things get difficult you have always been taught to gather your bearings and get to work. Some sacrifices are painful but meant to be left behind if they are keeping you from fulfilling a happy and purposeful life.

So for the first few days, you try to get back into your normal routine. The first night was spent weaving baskets together through the blurred vision of your tears. The basket came out looking like it had been mauled by a Palulukan. Regardless you continued to attempt getting back into your old routine, however those were usually filled with night hunts, an activity you were terrified of seeing Neteyam at. So you declined.

However, truth be told, it only takes twenty four hours to realize that this heartbreak is intruding upon everything you do. You open your eyes as sunset turns to Eclipse and the first thing that surfaces is the dread at needing to go to communal dinner. So, you push dinner off. Neteyam is persistent in bringing you a plate each night, usually saying a few apologies and begging once again for you to come out.

Your lips are raw and sore from biting into them in order to keep sobs at bay every time he comes to visit. Those first few nights he spent laying outside your hut was an awful mixture of longing and agony. His potent essence was easily carried through the night wind, constantly bringing it to your senses. You had twisted in the thin blankets on your hammock to stop yourself from going out there and cuddling next to him.

On the third night, he doesn’t stay.

You expect to feel relieved when he silently sets the serving of food down and leaves.

And yet, there is a part of you that longs for the draw of his smooth voice, no matter how distraught and rough it has become over the past few days. A part of you seems to also intrinsically sense his presence, even in the midst of slumber. Now that he spends his nights away from your hut, the emotional turmoil has become too much to handle.

Simple tasks pose as daunting accomplishments, ones that already feel like impending defeat. So, you slowly start losing those habits too. Your eyes run out of tears to shed so instead you spend more than a reasonable amount of time pondering on your life. You consider what it is that brought you to these circumstances, questioning whether or not you were the one to blame for this heartbreak. Perhaps, you were the one easily swayed into promises of fairy tales.

Before you know it a whole week has passed and you haven’t stepped foot outside. Recognizing this fact makes you feel pathetic and helpless, something that you don’t take a liking to. So, with red rimmed eyes and a congested nose, you take up a new purpose. Wielding together weapons from the materials in your hut.

Although they’re nothing to gawk at, the finished results are enough to convince yourself that you are contributing to the welfare of the clan. The steps are repetitive and allow your thoughts to wander while doing so. By the second week you have donated a fair amount to the hunting parties without having to leave your home, thanks to the kindness of your mother.

Your parents drop in frequently, but it’s obvious that they too find these visits painful. It’s an emotional ball and chain to see you wither away into something different. Visits that used to be full of vibrant laughter and storytelling now consist mostly of their own updates and pleas for you to come outside. Each time you assure them that you will…soon.

It’s not a lie, at least not to you.

Despite the physical ache of your heart every time you think of Neteyam’s smiling face and the bond that is now nothing but dust between you, there is still hope in your heart. A hope that someday you will recover from these lovesick feelings and finally be able to look upon the Omatikaya prince as any other clan member would. Purpose will return to your everyday tasks and Neteyam will only reside in your mind as Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya.

Still, you would be naive to ignore the weighted awareness of his presence that consumes you every time he comes to drop meals off. You can sense him before his footsteps are even audible. Occasionally, he will say a few encouraging words or promises of solution but some nights he simply places the food there and stares at it sadly before disappearing once more. Both instances strangle your heart in their grasp.

You thought that his scent would lessen once the bond was broken, but you figure it is alpha status to thank for always sending his essence of fresh pine through your hut at each visit. In some ways it feels like the only full breaths you took. The woven walls still allow air in, but only breezes warped with his scent remind you of being outside.

It’s on the two week mark that there is a shift in the miserable routine. No meal is brought to the entryway. Hours go by and Neteyam never comes by. You’ve been living off of those nightly meals and while one meal is not hardly enough to maintain a status of full health, its loss is even worse. At first, it appears that Neteyam has given up. He is tired of chasing after you and rightfully so you suppose. This is meant to be a step in the right direction, but you cry yourself to sleep that night. Apparently, your body had an extra storage of tears after all.

However, when it happens again, your theories start to change. A small slice of fruit is left outside on a leaf by the curtains in place of a meal. It’s delicious with juice squirting along your tongue in a dramatic symphony of taste. It’s the type of experience that leaves one wanting for more. Initially you are disappointed when the small piece is gone, but you remember where this food comes from. It would only take a five minute walk to approach the communal fire and snatch some away for yourself.

Only moments away from dipping outside that entry way for the first time in two weeks, you have another thought.

Neteyam only put one piece.

Would it not have been easier to leave a whole fruit rather than take the time to cut and separate one morsel of it onto a leaf as an offering.

It wasn’t an offering, it was an enticement.

You stay behind, trying to forget the sweet tang of the dessert.

Sure enough the suspicion is correct when the next night one piece of wrapped chocolate is left outside with a note.

Found this during the raid this week. There’s a whole bag left sitting in my hut. Let me know if you want some more.

-Neteyam

The chocolate is a tiny ball wrapped in a red textured material that is unfamiliar to Pandora. Chocolate is something you never knew of before Neteyam. However, now it has become one of your all time favorite delicacies, especially with the rarity of its availability. Neteyam took a great liking to showing you around the outpost and the stocked treasures they were stealing from the old Hell’s Gate post and the new trains they were constantly raiding. He would explain the random customs and stories of Sky People that he hears from his father while carefully unwrapping the delicious pieces for you.

Some days you would even have him read some of the English text, whether from the wrappers or other books that are kept around the outpost for the human scientists to enjoy at their leisure. You never understand a word of what he says, but the sounds are fascinating to hear in Neteyam’s familiar timber. Although the Mother Tongue of the Sky Demons, you’ve always been fascinated by Neteyam’s ability to speak it. Something very distinctly attractive about his extra abilities.

You sigh and thumb at the round ball of chocolate. It melts on your tongue, creating an explosion of sweet smooth sensations. Leave it to Neteyam to try and lure you out through your love of chocolate. That night you flatten out the wrapper, running your thumb over the English text that appears as nothing more than scribbles to you. It serves as a painful reminder of the golden memories the two of you have shared.

It remains clamped in your fist the entire day.

Heavy eyelids blinking open slowly, you can still feel the strange texture of that wrapper between your fingers. Contrary to your lack of activity, your body feels sore. Every muscle seems to be wound the wrong way and the air in your hut feels moist and stuffy. Stretching out, your foot hits the food supplies basket you keep and knocks it over. You stumble to put the object away, or rather you try to before you realize that it’s empty.

The last of your supplies is gone.

Regardless of your feelings and fears, you need to go outside today. It’s time to face the music.

Your toes curl and feet flex before carefully shifting to stand. Pushing aside clusters of baskets and tools you finally breach the front entryway of your hut. Expecting the air to have cooled down by now, your skin prickles strangely at the feeling of heat against your back. You rush to throw off whatever blanket or item of clothing that must have stuck to you but then your eyes are blinded. Sheer light invades your vision, drenching every sight in white.

Stumbling across the forest floor, it truly takes you more than a moment to understand what is happening. The harsh light, the foreign heat. This is sunlight.

A pure beam of sunlight that has not disappeared behind the moon yet.

Your delayed reaction finally allows you to search for the entryway and try to scramble towards safety but it’s impossible to see with the brightness of the world turned up to one hundred. Your eyes can’t manage to stay open for more than a second, each time feeling a burning sensation that is unbearable. Soon, though, it seems to be too late as your limbs grow heavy and your skin heats uncomfortably. Even when that last ray of sunshine disappears, your body continues to torment you with a rising heat.

The sensations become too much. The weight of your own head drags you down. The world spins around you in disorienting directions. Only a glimpse of blue skin is caught before you collapse into someone’s arms and the world turns blissfully black again.

“Move before I kick you out.” Mo’at warns, but her tone holds a morsel of sympathy despite the strict instruction.

You are laid out along the mat of her healer’s tent with half the Sully family gathered around. Neteyam can hardly keep his hands off of you, constantly checking to see if you have cooled down yet. Each time renders him disappointed, ears folding back against his head. Mo’at is quickly losing patience as she is constantly swatting the boy away in order to apply the series of healing balms.

“She’s burning up.” He protests, but finally moves out of her way. His idle hands find a new place along his knees where the blunt nails dig into his skin. Kiri and Tuk surround their brother but are careful to not impede too much on his space. His panicked dread rolls off of him in waves, a palpable tension that can be felt by everyone in the tent.

“How long was she exposed?”

“I don’t know. Can’t be more than a few minutes maybe. She was hardly past the entrance when I found her…I….is she going to be ok?” His voice cracks as tears finally well up over his golden orbs. Tuk places her small hand on his shoulder.

“Only the Great Mother knows that.” She pauses, looking up to see her grandson’s crumbling composure. “She is hot. Her temperature needs to drop significantly.”

The message doesn’t seem to settle on Neteyam. His gaze continues to focus on your unconscious face.

“Neteyam.” His head finally snaps up at his grandmother’s stern voice. “Go fetch me cold water from the river.” A basin is handed to the alpha but she can already tell there is reluctance in his expression.

“Now.” It’s harsher than Mo’at would like to be but she knows that getting the concerned alpha outside of the tent is essential for her to complete the healing rituals. His presence is a distraction that has her own emotions tugging her away from the work at hand.

Neteyam purses his lips and sends one last glance towards you. He cradles your cheek and leans down to softly press a kiss to your forehead, whispering promises to return. Then finally, he rushes out of the tent, driven by the given task.

The hours rush and drag simultaneously for Neteyam. It becomes difficult to believe that it has already been a full twenty four hours and yet every minute that your eyes are not open feels like a year to him. Jake recruits Norm and some of the other scientists to take a look at you in the outpost. Moat is naturally displeased by the change at first but even she can’t deny that the old metal portable is a safer place for you to hide from the sun. Thick blankets and rugs are hung over the windows to keep the rays of sunshine out.

Between the expertise of the scientists with their modern technology and the healing powers of Tsahik, things begin to look grim when there is little to no change in your state. Neteyam becomes increasingly more tense with every passing hour that yields no result. At some point his family stops trying to convince him to take breaks. Tuk takes it upon herself to gather and deliver a good serving from the communal fire for her older brother at every meal.

Kiri is constantly teetering between helping her grandmother wrap cooling salves of thick leaves on your skin and foraging through the forest for different materials that could be used to create various healing ointments.

Lo’ak tries to provide his brother with some pleasant company. If not that, then at least an annoying younger brother that can keep his mind off the matter for a few minutes. He tells jokes and shares random stories, usually featuring young alphas and the things their idiotic pride leads them to do. He has a plethora of these events saved up, having been training the new batch of future warriors almost daily. Those stories shift to other couples’ drama and fights when Neteyam laments over the past few weeks, assuring his brother that rough patches are normal in relationships and that perhaps he is not the worst skxawng to be found in the forest.

Jake and Neytiri watch the scene with sorrowful eyes, discussing in the privacy of their home what needs to be done for their son and you.

At hour thirty six, you begin to squirm. Every muscle seems to creek with each movement, seemingly as rusty and worn as the door to the outpost that takes an extra shove to open. It’s the burning heat that you notice next. It seems to travel along your veins and cover you in a suffocating cloud. It brings on feelings of almost claustrophobic symptoms.

Finally, the flutter of your lashes reveal your golden eyes to the synthetic lighting of the outpost makeshift hospital wing. Only one electric light is turned on down the hallway. The rest of the ambience comes from lit candles scattering the surfaces around you. Their flicker is soft and soothing, but it’s the familiar scent of timber and pine that has your muscles finally relaxing.

The surface beneath your head is cool to the touch, you rub your cheek against it.

“Tanhi.”

That soft makeshift pillow is his thigh. Your already burning cheeks seem to reach new levels of inflamed rose color as you drowsily look up at him.

“You’re awake.” His voice is thick with emotion, almost choking the sounds from his throat. On its own volition your hand shakily reaches up to swipe away the tear traveling down his cheek. His skin is cool to the touch, such a different contrast to the usual warmth that you remember radiating off of him in your nights together. Your thin arm shakes from the strain of holding it upwards, he grabs your wrist gently and reluctantly helps you lower it back to your side.

“Yes.” The sound comes out more hoarse and gravelly than you anticipated. You clear your throat before continuing. “How long have I been out?”

“Over a day.”

A few moments of sunlight and suddenly a day and a half has been taken from you. It’s a lot to process, especially with the hazy pounding assaulting your head with every moment. The usual strength and energy in your body seems to have greatly dissipated, leaving you feeling as nothing but a shell of your normal self. Your attempt at sitting up is not only hindered by the strain of your abs but also cut short by Neteyam’s large hands gently pushing you back down.

“No no Tanhi, just rest. Don’t strain yourself.” It’s too easy to settle your head back onto his welcoming lap. A small voice at the back of your head warns you of reversing all the progress that has been made, but it seems insignificant when Neteyam begins to tenderly brush his fingers through your hair. Nothing can take away the ache of your body and heat of your blood boiling but his touch does finally stir your heartbeat into a steady rhythm. It’s as if a weight is lifted off of you as your senses become filled with his essence. Every point of contact between you is like fire and ice. He is the ice that you welcome greatly, the only thing that seems to relieve the burning along your skin.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, eyes almost closed once more.

“Whatever for, love?”

“I don’t mean to trouble you. I should’ve been more diligent, tracking the sun’s cycle..” Your lungs seize into a painful invisible grip, forcing a coughing fit to begin. Neteyam is quick to shush your sentence away and help you get some cool water down. His large hand rests over the heat of your forehead. The eldest Sully frowns down at you, no doubt still feeling the evidence of your raging fever.

“Hush, Tanhi. There’s no place I would rather be right now.”

You watch the shadows dance across lines of his collarbones and sharp features as he prepares another cool wrap to lay across your forehead. The grip you have on conscious thought is weak, but even at your mental peak you are sure that there is nothing more beautiful than the man above you. His harsh and sharp features that frame those kind and insightful eyes. He has an ethereal beauty that has always captured you.

“You’re going to be ok.” It’s unclear whether or not the sentiment is meant for you or rather himself. His hairless brows pinch into those familiar clenched lines. You recognize them from days he would come home to, the evidence of his still racing thoughts clearly etched into his features.

Through the constant ache of your body and heat that tries to lure you to sleep, it takes you a moment to recognize the pheromones drifting off of him. You’re surprised to find that you can still identify the shift of emotions through his essence. Supposedly your sense of smell is better than you thought for a beta. The curling sadness and anxiety that comes off of him in waves, however, is something you wish could not be so easily detected. It is foreign and strange when mixed with his calming perfume. Neteyam isn’t usually one easily frazzled.

Neteyam settles a clear plastic over your mouth and it takes a moment before you recognize it as the Avatar oxygen masks. The air filtered through it is clearer and more readily accepted by your lungs. After a few breaths you nod at him and he pulls it away again.

Silence ensues. You yearn to break it with some semblance of an apology or explanation, but the words never come. Your body has other ideas as it drifts in and out of consciousness. Several times you wake to see another member of the Sully family perched next to Neteyam. However, the oldest Sully child never leaves. The hold you have on time becomes almost nonexistent as you slip back and forth between reality and fever induced dreams.

Eventually you begin to wake periodically in Neteyam’s arms, head laying on his chest or coddled in his lap. Each time you consider saying something, knowing that he is no longer your mate. You have no claim on him and therefore no right to use him in this way, but his skin is cool and calms the sizzling heat upon your own. The very idea of creating distance between you two causes a spike of anxiety to take hold.

It would be all too easy to blame this on your fever and the aid he provides, even in your state of watered down thought you know the truth. There is a yearning to be close to him again. To feel the gentle caresses that line your lips and cheeks as you sleep. To fall into a fantasy where the two of you never split, convincing yourself that today is simply a small sick day where your mate pampers you. The natural instincts of your beta nature furthermore aches for the calming presence of an alpha. Even the simple actions of his rising and falling chest that contains a steady heartbeat lulles your nature into a submissive calm.

It is such a dramatic contrast to the empty abyss that has replaced your heart over the past few weeks. Falling into Neteyam feels natural, as expected as the waves that crash against the shore. It’s an ironic feeling to have considering the most inconvenient and problematic characteristics of your relationship. He was never meant to be yours.

You chant those words in your head, willing them to echo true.

This time, your eyes flutter lazily open to the feeling of his slim tail wrapping itself around your upper thigh. With creaky drowsiness you look up to find him fast asleep, lips parted softly with shallow breaths escaping soundlessly. Sprawled across him, head on his chest, this position resembles that of your usual sleeping position together. Or at least, what it used to be. Before the first cracks of dawn you would slip back into the tent and gently fall into his dozing embrace. It was not uncommon to find his tail slink around one of your limbs possessively all while never stirring from his unconscious state.

Looking around the dingy outpost, it’s just the two of you. The plastic material of the mask around your neck feels uncomfortable around your heated skin. You find a matching one around Neteyam’s own throat. Although showing no signs of struggling breathing, you gently place it against his lips. When the clear oxygen filtered through his lips, Neteyam stirs.

You contemplate faking sleep when his ears twitch and eyes slowly open, but they immediately land on you.

“Yawne.” Neteyam groans, voice thick with sleep. The deep rumble of his morning voice always makes your stomach do somersaults. “How are you feeling, Tanhi?”

His ears pin back when you veer away from his efforts to cup your cheek.

“A bit better.” Your arms tremble as they push against Neteyam pectorals to try and sit up properly. Despite his gentle protests, you finally manage to remain upright for the first time in days. The room spins around you. It’s only by the grace of Neteyam’s hands supporting your back that you remain sitting. “What time is it?”

It feels like night but then again the heavy blankets over the outpost windows would show no indication of broad daylight if present.

“Middle of the night.”

“Then I should go.” Your feet are barely planted on the ground before Neteyam is pulling you back into his arms.

“You don’t really think I’m going to let you out there in this condition, do you?” His chest rumbles with a stern timber, but his hold is tender and gentle. You are tempted to roll your eyes at the protective behavior, but you’re worried that doing so would put the room back into orbit again.

“You need rest.”

“I can rest at home.”

“Like hell you will.” Neteyam scoffs, using another phrase he so commonly picks up from his father. You can practically feel the protective growl that yearns to climb up his throat, but a sigh comes out in its place. “You’re shaking, Tanhi. Let me take care of you.”

His knuckles graze your cheek delicately, sending a cool shiver along your shoulders.

“I don’t think that is a good idea.”

Neteyam’s hand stills before dropping heavily to his lap. The heated breath coming from his lips tickles at the back of your neck. Were it not for your already trembling form you are sure that his presence alone would erupt goosebumps and shivers along your body. The pressing weight of silence is dizzying, tempting you to lay back down. You can practically hear the cogs in his head turning at a rapid pace.

“Please just hear me out for a moment.”

Turning around to face him takes more effort than you would like to admit. Seeing those sad golden eyes without melting takes even more.

“Five minutes is all I ask.” You hesitate, biting your bottom lip. “And if by the end of it you are sick of hearing from me then I promise I will leave you alone. My grandmother will take over caring for you and I will…respect your wishes.” His words are strangled, that suffocating dread pulling his features into a deep frown.

“Ok.”

The shimmer of hope is barely visible in his shining eyes but it still wrenches your heart.

“My entire life has been about being Olo’eyktan. I’ve watched my father lead the people since I could barely walk and since then I have always known that someday that would be me. I wake up every day and the first thought that comes to mind is what needs to be done in order to become the mighty leader that everyone expects me to be. For a long time I’ve thought that my path was already decided by Eywa. Find an omega suitable of being tsahik, settle down with her, and lead till my son can take over. I was ok with that, I’d accepted my fate.” Neteyam shifts to his knees, fingernails digging slightly into his own thighs. Apprehension spoils his scent, creating a new mixture you are unfamiliar with. It’s then that you realize you’ve never seen Neteyam nervous before.

“Then I met you.”

Your eyes dart to the laminate floor.

“I…I’m usually a lot better with words.” He chuckles nervously while rubbing the back of his neck. “It occurred to me recently that I’ve been negligent in our relationship. I never truly explained why I chose you. Why you are the person I can’t live without. Perhaps if I had we wouldn’t be in this situation now.”

“Neteyam it’s not-”

“Please let me finish, Tanhi.”

You nod softly, careful to not increase the already blooming headache pounding at your skull.

“I’ve never met anyone like you.” A weak snort transforms into a cough raking up your throat. “I don’t mean because of ailment, yawne.” He clarifies and you suddenly feel embarrassed for assuming so quickly. Neteyam pauses his little speech to reach behind and once again carefully bring a cup of water to your parched lips. Gratefully, you let the cool substance slink down your throat to soothe the scratchy ache.

Once he seems to be sure that another fit is not about to come on, Neteyam continues.

“You have this unyielding spirit, determined to forage through any storm. Eywa herself puts you in the shadows and you conquer the terrain. The air around you hums with a quiet confidence that is…” He searches for the right word. “Intoxicating.”

A laugh escapes your lips and yet you feel nothing resembling humor. Your hairless eyebrows scrunch in disbelief. Neteyam shows no acknowledgment of your reaction as he instead puts the mask back against your mouth.

“I’ve been drawn to you since that first night hunt. Surely, that isn’t a secret.” He laughs into his own mask that is raised to his lips. If only he knew how oblivious you were to his intentions those first few weeks. “You’re fiercely determined and independent yet hold a gentle empathy and kindness for those around you that I could only ever hope to imitate. And stubborn too.” Neteyam chuckles with a shake of his head. “Fucking stubborn enough to tell a dumb alpha like me off, consequences be damned.”

Your lungs can only manage a simple huffed laugh, but the corners of your lips are already turning upwards subconsciously.

“When I’m around you,” His eyes pierce through you. “I can finally bear that weighted pressure of expectations on my chest. You make it light.” Neteyam leans forward and tucks a stray strand of hair behind your upturned ear. “My little star.”

Your cheeks are damp and it is only then that you realize tears drops have been escaping your eyes. Neteyam thumbs them away with tender care.

“I’ve grown accustomed to sacrificing whatever it takes to become Olo’eyktan. I’ve written my life off as not my own. I’ve given everything I can and could in order to fulfill this role. You are the only thing that I can not sacrifice. And maybe that is selfish of me, but I also know that without you I’m simply a shell of the man I am with you.”

“I could never be Olo’eyktan without you by my side.”

“But how am I supposed to be beside you when I can’t even step a foot into the sun without falling apart at the seams?”

“You truly think that I haven’t thought about that, yawne?” Neteyam’s lips quirk into an amused smile. “I guess now would be a good time to tell you that Lo’ak and I have been building a black out healers tent.” You gape at him. “I wanted it to be a surprise. I suppose I should’ve known better than to think I could pull one over on you.”

It’s foolish, you tell yourself. Another darkened tent doesn’t solve all of the problems. It doesn’t erase the strain this relationship would have on Neteyam or allow you to operate during the daytime hours, unless you are content to remain in the tent for all of your days. And yet, there is a sliver of hope growing in your bosom.

“Nete, I don’t know what to say.” His braids swing over the intense eyes that focus on your every move. He’s tense, ready to jump in at the notice of resistance. “But, I can’t live my life in a dark tent.”

“Of course not. I’m talking about a compromise. Lo’ak, he takes over in the mornings while you and I start the day in the midafternoons. Tsahik duties in the tent for a few hours and then the rest of the night spent together. Leading together. Hunting together.” The dopey grin that spreads upon his lips is fiercely adamant in capturing your heart once more. It takes everything in you to not reach out and pinch the mighty warrior’s cheek. A notion Neteyam is known to reprimand with a playful glare.

“You make it sound so simple.” It’s too much to meet his gaze. You prefer the view of the worn down tiles as you take another calming breath from the mask. The pace of your heart is evermore increasing and part of you wonders if this conversation has the ability to make you faint.

A hand beneath your chin gently prods you to look back up again. He whispers your name, soft but clear in the quiet outpost.

“We have a choice.”

The words weigh heavy in the air, drawing your ears to perk forward in anticipation.

“I know that may sound like a lie to you. However, if there is anyone that understands their life being determined from birth, it’s you. You and I have been pushed and kept into our respective boxes, taught to dream of only the realistic paths ahead of us.”

You wish to say it’s untrue, but any other reality has been stripped away from you from your first breath and morphed into only that of fairy tales.

“We get to choose whether or not we believe that. I’ve accepted my destiny, Tanhi, but I can not bring myself to see my journey walking besides anyone that’s not you. I’ve already chosen. You are what I will not sacrifice.” Neteyam’s calloused fingers weave into your hair, hands on the sides of your head.

“It’s your turn, Tanhi. What do you choose?”

“Is that your definition of fumbling words?” Your chuckle is choked with tears. Neteyam’s short laughter joins your own, his lips already starting to spread into that smile you adore so much.

The past few weeks have been a constant building of that fortress around your heart. You’ve tried to convince yourself over and over again that the two of you parting ways is for the best. These mantras have ripped your heart out and left you in a state of empty sadness, but they also have created a sturdy wall, one that is hard to crumble. Naturally, it is Neteyam that ever stands a chance at breaking through. Sweet Neteyam that knows you so thoroughly that he doesn’t require brute force to get through, he finds a hold from the inside, reading you like a book until there is nothing left for you to hide.

This experience has been a draining uphill battle, but one that you have embarked on because you’ve been convinced that the right thing to do is often the hard thing. However, now, the story shifts. You are left wondering if perhaps this whole time, running away is not the hard thing at all. It’s staying that proves to be the most difficult battle to fight. It’s staying that requires your heart to be opened and at the mercy of failure and disappointment. Leaving Neteyam isn’t the noble cause you once thought it to be.

It’s hiding.

“You really have some nerve calling me stubborn.” You try to joke, but tears are already cascading down your cheeks at an alarming rate and you can tell Neteyam is seconds away from scooping you back into his lap.

“Well I admit being stubborn has its reward sometimes.” He quirks an eyebrow at you. “Perhaps it’s paid off for me this time?”

“Perhaps.” You smile coyly at him. It takes bracing a stabilizing hand against the floor to stop yourself from falling over when you lean forward but it’s worth the exhilarating feeling of his lips against yours once more.

Neteyam is cautious and gentle, moving his lips softly in sync with yours, but you can feel the restraint it takes for him not to swallow you whole. However, you are still healing so Neteyam treats you the way you expect any alpha to: like a delicate flower. Your own tears wet the canvas of both of your cheeks and it takes a moment to realize that small droplets are falling from Neteyam’s eyes too.

The kiss is warm and tender. Relief washes through your body in a wave that makes you realize how much pain you truly were in. How even the very bones in your body finally lose their ache when Neteyam slips an arm around your back to bring you closer.

You’re forced to break the kiss earlier than desired as Neteyam can feel the way your body lags to get air into its lungs. The soft pants that leave your lips are soon encased by the mask that the alpha slips over your mouth once more. The warmth of his gaze beaming down on you spreads across your chest and lights another fire along your skin.

“Come home, Neteyam.” You whisper softly. His forehead leans against your own, those golden orbs still shimmering with unshed tears.

“Always, Tanhi.”

The hours float by in a happily dazed dream afterwards. Neteyam’s touch starved state comes fully into the light as he is constantly keeping a point of contact between you two. It’s obvious that his alpha hindbrain has gone off the wall after being apart for so long and furthermore trying to care for you without going too far. Now that the green light has been given, Neteyam is constantly wrapping his body around your own smaller form till you are almost completely encapsulated by him.

Truthfully, you have no objections. In fact, even your own instincts push you towards readily accepting and initiating any forms of affectionate touch. It further helps that Neteyam’s skin is cool to the touch in comparison to your own raging feverish skin.

Within half a day your wellbeing has greatly increased after the constant nurturing of your overprotective alpha, who seems to be constantly slipping water, food, medicine, or mask given air past your lips. Mo’at is greatly pleased when your temperature begins to return back to its former state and there is a greater strength present in your body. Still, she instructs you to lay low for another day as a precaution.

Neteyam is more than happy to keep you to himself for another day. Watching you come close to the brink of death has his primal urges dialed to eleven. You have to scold him every now and then when his younger brother comes to visit and Neteyam thanks him with an aggressive hiss and tucking you safely into his arms and away from the ‘threat’.

It’s borderline shocking to see his strong reactions considering the severed bond between the two of you. That is, until you find the truth.

“I admit, it might’ve been selfish Tanhi but I couldn’t bring myself to cut our tie before knowing that I had tried everything possible to get you back.”

He had looked up at you with a guilty composure but after everything the two of you had been through you couldn’t hide your relief and joy in finding out that this bond had still survived the heartache. It also provides a greater explanation to your own body's willingness to melt into him with or without a resolution. Now, though, you are content to let him have his fun babying you for one day more and revill in the renewed connection the two of you share.

This time when you awake in the newly hung hammock inside of the outpost (Neteyam had used every angle possible to convince the human scientists to let him temporarily take up the space) you’re surprised to find your mate’s skin hot against your own. His thumping heartbeat rickets in your eardrums but instead of rocking you to sleep, the sound sends shivers down your spine.

Neteyam is blissfully unaware of your consciousness as your own heart starts to speed up. Shifting your leg, it’s a surprise to feel a sticky texture lining the inside of your loincloth. Blood rushes to your cheeks when you realize the source of this substance. Bashfully you’re relieved to see Neteyam is still asleep, allowing your arousal to remain a private humiliation.

With the cautiousness of a sneaking Palulukan, you attempt rolling off of the hammock and out of his arms to take care of your little problem. It’s only halfway rolling over to your side when the Omatikaya prince shifts and spoons you from behind. All plans are immediately thwarted when his muscular thigh slips between your splayed legs innocently. However, the pressure it incidentally puts against your clit brings forth feelings that are anything but innocent.

A veiny forearm easily clamps around your waist to pull you back against his chest. The act rubs his thighs against your clothed folds so suddenly, that it brings a whimpered moan from your lips. Breath hitched in your throat, you wait to see if Neteyam stirs. He shows no sign of waking so you try to scoot your heated core away from his thigh slyly.

Not only are these efforts unrewarded but also bring a tinge of sadness coursing through you. It’s a strange wave of emotion that follows. Arousal quickly windles into full blown desperation within a few heartbeats. The sensations are overpowering, racing through every surface of your body until all that your mind can focus on is the need to be filled by a mate.

Filled by Neteyam.

“Oh Great Mother.” You curse quietly.

Your first heat.

A momentous milestone that your parents have talked to you in great lengths about yet still brings nothing to light on the reality of the experience. You’ve had smaller mini episodes of heat, normal in the beginning of adulthood for Na’vi betas, but it’s only a laughable comparison to the clawing desire taking over your body currently. As a beta you figured that your own heats would be miniscule compared to the laborious heats that plague omegas earlier in their years.

Involuntarily rocking your clothed core against Neteyam’s thigh you now wonder how these Na’vi have ever survived such a demanding lust and lived to tell the tale. And that is what it feels like. Death if not satisfied. Pain if not satiated.

Embarrassment is thrown out the window in favor of creating a pleasurable friction against your clit. Hardly ever having experienced touching yourself on the rare occasion, you have no idea what to do. The corded muscle of his relaxed thigh feels better than your usual small fingerings drumming against the bundle of nerves, so you continue to rock back in a desperate rhythm.

The hammock starts to sway softly with your jutting hips. Some movements are rewarded with a spark of pleasure, only to then be absent on the next rock of your hips. Frustration is quick to brew as you can’t seem to find the right angle and pressure against your core. Shiny slick drenches through the thin fabric and onto the alpha’s thigh. It acts as a lubricant for your journey across his skin, allowing a faster pace to be adopted.

Your pussy clenches around open air, beckoning for a worthy mate to finally fill and claim you properly. It’s an emptiness that you can only compare to the tingling you have experienced after especially long makeout sessions with Neteyam, but it’s worse. So much worse that it brings tears to your eyes. The only relief is found when a lucky thrust finally has the fabric pushed away from your core and lets your small clit peek out and press against his azure skin.

Now without any barriers, pure ecstasy wracks through your body. It only amplifies when the muscles flex slightly beneath you, giving just the right amount of pressure against your clit. A knot forms and tightens in your stomach, quickly winding until it feels as if it’s about to snap. It feels almost dirty to realize that your slick has now coated the entirety of Neteyam’s thigh all while he is sleeping and yet it lures you further into a state of arousal than you have ever been before.

Your own thighs clench harshly around Neteyam’s to trap it against your core. A release clear on the horizon, every effort is put into maintaining that delicious sensation of your clit being assaulted against the muscle. Legs shaking and small squeaks erupting from your throat you chase that feeling relentlessly.

“Cum, Tanhi.”

Neteyam’s raspy voice pushes you over the edge with a shocked gasp. His rumbling growl of satisfaction seems to pulse through you in sync with the overwhelming sensations of an orgasm.

“Good girl.” He praises as your body trembles in the afterglow of release. Neteyam chuckles when a simple flex of his thighs has a whimper spilling your lips. Swirling patterns are drawn by the alpha’s fingers along your sides and arms.

Mental clarity returns in a flash, allowing the reality of the situation to sink in. You hide your heated face against his arm underneath your head while groaning in humiliation.

“Nete.” You whine.

“Hush, baby girl. It’s alright, no reason to get all shy on me now.” He coos while swiping your hair away from your cheek to finally have an unobscured view of your blushing face. “Especially not when you make such pretty noises.”

The words crumble any wall of resistance against the impending heat. Your body yearns for another release, still screaming at you for not being filled with your alpha’s cock yet. A cock that you can feel hardening beneath Neteyam’s loincloth and poking at your lower back.

“Neteyam, it really hurts.”

“I know, Tahini, I know.” He soothes, softly kissing your temple while brushing the strands of hair away. “My poor little star. A bit stronger than you expected, hm?”

When his thigh finally shifts away from your leaking pussy, despite the strength of your clamped legs, a noise of disappointment escapes you.

“So much worse. Neteyam please!” It’s hard to say what you are begging for specifically, but the alpha is quick to calm your worries with sweet nothings. Your limbs kick out and try to wind around any of his, subconsciously finding ways to trap his body closer to yours.

“If you want help, all you have to do is say, yawne. I know how to take care of my girl.” He turns you by the chin to make direct eye contact with him, a silent second measure to make sure this is truly what you desire. Hesitating is far from your mind as you nod and whine out little pleas.

Satisfied with your consent Neteyam grins and begins to descend down your body. Confusion swirls in your eyes when he situates your legs over his shoulders. The sex talk from your parents may not have been that descriptive but you know enough to realize that his cock is nowhere near your drenched entrance.

“How does that…” You trail off, head tilted to the side.

“Just need to get your ready first, Tanhi. Want my baby girl to feel good.” Pointed teeth poke out beneath his lips in his open mouth grin. The pads of his fingers tenderly brush and tease along your outer thighs, slowly making their way to your inner. Tingles of anticipation and pleasure trickle up your body. It boggles you how such a light tracing heightens your lust to new levels.

“How?”

His face softens and Neteyam coos at you while tucking a strand behind your ear.

“Just trust me, little star. I promise you’ll like it.”

So you do, even when his face lowers to your partly clothed mound. Neteyam’s nose presses against your pussy and he sucks in air like a man on the brink of drowning. Your cheeks set aflame at having his face so close to your special place, something you had never considered before. The rumble of power in his hungry growl, however, washes away any insecurity that would plague your mind.

“Smell so delicious, Tanhi.” He purrs.

Neteyam’s creates a path of wet kisses along your inner thighs. Careful grips on your knees allow him to maneuver your legs into whatever profane position he desires, easy access for his eager tongue and lips. His saliva and your slick become intermixed along the expanse of skin as he takes his time warming you up. Each time his lips come closer to your folds, you whimper needily. Heated lust entraps every thought you have, wondering how long it will be until the two of you finally become one.

The first nips at your left inner thigh causes you to jump. His eyes look back up at you as the pointed tips of those canines teasingly scrape against your soft skin.

“Just a little taste, yawne?” He asks, although the smirk along his lips suggests that it is less of a question and rather a warning.

“A bite? T-there?”

Neteyam chuckles at your clueless behavior. It’s been known among Na’vi to leave obvious hickeys and bites along one’s mate’s skin, but you’ve always assumed that to only be in places more visible and less…private. Your tail swishes anxiously as you think of those marks being so close to your heated entrance.

“Yes, baby girl. A little mark to remember me by, hm?”

A simple nod of your head is all the permission required for Neteyam to continue. He takes one last breath from the hanging mask before picking a spot on your inner thigh where the flesh is supple and tender, licking and kissing and the area in preparation. When his lips close around the plush skin and begin to suck, it sends tendrils of electricity straight to your core. Without even thinking you moan and grab at his hair. You’re stuck between the urge to push his head away and encourage him to suck harder.

Once released, the skin is left with a pronounced purple mark. One lick is deposited on the spot before his teeth nip and tug at the skin. You squeal and arch your back dramatically, Neteyam moans darkly he has let it fall from between his teeth and begin to soothe the skin with kisses and licks. The entire act scratches a part of your brain that is primal, satisfied by the apparent claim he leaves for all to see.

“Much better.” His tone drips with pride. “Thank you, Tanhi.” He kisses your knee in gratitude, as if you have given him some sacred gift, and perhaps for him that is true.

It’s only now that it occurs to you how many times Neteyam has held back from staking his claim on you the way most alphas do. You vaguely remember the indented mark of his own teeth against his bottom lip that would draw blood, especially after you have shared an intimate moment or he saw another male eyeing you for too long. What you had originally shrugged off as a habit now transforms in your mind as an act of self control.

Neteyam is quick but deliberate with his handy work of undoing the ties around your tail and hips. He slides the fabric away from your pelvis with an attitude of reverence. Cool air against your slick folds feels like a tickling touch that has your lust spiking dramatically. Burning eyes on your most sensitive area is like gasoline to the flames.

You attempt to clench your thighs together to protect your dignity, but Neteyam hoists them apart and back on his shoulders sternly.

“None of that, baby girl. Let me see how pretty you are.”

And there’s something in that phrase and his undivided attention that makes your toes curl. It becomes blatantly obvious that if he doesn’t hurry up and get on with sticking his cock inside your pussy, you will fall apart at the seams before there is even a chance.

“Neteyam, I’m ready. Please please I’m so ready.” You ramble, willing your legs apart to prepare easier access. Once he is inside everything will be better, although the thought of your virgin walls stretching around him causes a slight tinge of panic to break loose.

“Mawey, my love. It’s about to get good.”

However, frustration and confusion bubble to the surface again when you see his face lowering back down.

“No no, Nete. Enough kisses.” You whine. “I need you inside.”

His brows push up at that, the corners of his lips perking slightly as if hesitant to fully grin.

“Are you sure, my love? We can still wait if you wa-”

“NO! No more waiting! I’m ready now. I need you right now.”

He calls your name softly, but with a hint of unyielding sternness that lets you know it is important you listen. Even a beta can sense when the time to obey is present.

“You’re heat is a very powerful thing but also fleeting, Tanhi. I don’t want you to make such a big decision purely because of your primal instincts.” It’s a respectful and considerate gesture but your head is shaking before he is even close to finishing. If this man does not take you now, you’re ready to flip him over and sit on his member, inexperience be damned.

“It’s not. I’ve been ready for weeks. W-was just waiting to tell you. Take me now, stick it in now.” The ringing in your ears, you realize is actually the accelerated blood thumping along the eardrums from your racing heart. It feels as if the speed will be enough to burst your ribcage open. “I’m ready.”

Neteyam watches as your eyes clench shut and hands scrape against the woven material of the hammock. You’re braced and ready for the pain that will ensue upon penetration.

“Tahni,” Your eyes slowly peek open to see that the alpha hasn’t moved a muscle. “You love me, don’t you?”

The question throws you off guard, but the answer comes easily.

“Of course.”

“And you know that I love you?”

“Yes Neteyam.” Your hips scoot against the fabric, pussy fluttering as it continues to wait for the incoming sensation.

“And you trust me?”

“Always, Nete.”

The alpha hums happily at your response, muttering out a deep ‘good girl’.

“Then I need you to trust that I know what I’m doing, baby girl. Trust that your alpha will take care of you.” He tenderly brushes his fingers over your soft stomach. “And trust me enough to say if or when something doesn’t feel good.”

You nod hazily, keenly aware of the tickling sensation of his touch along your hips.

“That’s my good girl. Now let me get you ready.”

It’s still confusing when you see his head lower towards your navel once more, but you don’t protest this time. He’s right, you do trust him and he does have far more experience with sex than you by far. Your upturned legs are spread even wider by his broad shoulders as he leans closer and lets the tips of his tongue drag over you from belly button to navel. The saliva line goes down further and further until…oh.

It takes his grip on your hips to keep them pressed against the hammock when his tongue brushes over your clit for the first time. It’s a pleasure that is completely foreign to you. Comparable to the spark of dopamine that comes from your small finger teasing the area and yet completely different in intensity. He draws sensual figure eights along the bundle of nerves several times before swooping down to collect more of your arousal between your folds.

Neteyam is calculated with his exploring, performing in the way of someone who has crafted their art. When his tongue just barely swipes across your entrance your hands fly down to grasp his braids again. This time, however, the only thought on your mind is keeping him down there. His flat nose nudges at your clit with every swipe of his tongue along your pussy.

“Oh my Eywa!” You screech as that knot is quickly being tied again in your stomach.

Neteyam on the other hand becomes focused on another knot, tugging at the twine holding your top in place while still working on your pussy with zealous excitement. With your aid, the dangling top is released and falls to the side. His assault on your pussy pauses for him to trail upwards and lick along your quickly hardening peaks.

“So pretty, Tanhi.” He murmurs against your right nipple before taking it into his mouth and sucking. Meanwhile his fingers have taken the place of his tongue and expertly rub your clit. “My pretty little star.”

Gleeful pride twinkles in his eyes as he looks up at you, a string of saliva connecting his lips to your chest. Your small hands grapple at any part of him you can reach, finding purchase on his flexed bicep that holds himself over you.

The connecting lines of your thoughts are tangled into a ball of messy hunger and desperation. Never in your wildest dreams would you have imagined such strange things to be so exhilarating. A part of you wonders what else was not included in that sex talk.

His head is found back between your legs again once your nipples are red and pointed proudly. Neteyam licks, nips and sucks at your pussy like a starved man. Every moan of pleasure releases vibrations that sky rockets through you. It becomes too much to handle. You’ve never felt more fragile in your entire life than when his eyes connect with yours, one eye winking at you, and you fall apart.

Neteyam’s moan while licking up the white substance pouring from you goes completely unnoticed as the world around you spins and your ears ring. The gravity of this orgasm shakes you to the bones, floodgates of pleasure completely open in your brain.

Although it feels as if Pandora has slipped out from beneath you, the recovery from this release is swift. Your skin prickles with goosebumps and your pussy hungrily clenches around open air once more. It seems that the monster of a heat inside you grows more insatiable with every second. So when Neteyam covers one finger in the remnants of your juices and starts to prod at your entrance, you’re relieved.

“You’re doing so good, baby girl. This may feel strange at first, but let me know if it hurts too much.” It’s hard to focus on anything else besides the shiny slick that still coats his chin as he looks at you, but you manage a nod.

It does feel strange at first, your walls incredibly tight. Getting down to the first knuckle is easy but going towards the second proves to feel a little more strained. Regardless, you are happy to find that getting one finger inside is nothing near as painful as expected. Neteyam wiggles the digit and it makes you twitch. Such a strange sensation to be filled but, the longer he twists and curls his finger, the more you find yourself enjoying it.

“How does that feel, yawne?”

“F-fine…a little strange.”

Neteyam chuckles.

“I know. My girl’s pretty pussy is so tight.” It’s the pride and adoration in his voice that melts you from the inside out. The muscles of your cunt relax against him as he starts to slide another finger in.

This stretch takes a little more time, effort, and praise from your alpha but otherwise it’s smooth sailing. He scissors and stretches your walls with due diligence, even as the dark pupils of his eyes overtake the gold color. By the third finger, you’re clawing at his braced forearm and begging for his cock. Neteyam doesn’t immediately give in, reminding you of the importance of being stretched out for him. Frustrated by his noble intentions, you aren’t beyond playing dirty.

“Alpha please! Need your cock so bad, it hurts. Feel so empty.” The begging turns into sweet tones of whimpers. You can see the shift of his muscles as they tense. His pheromones take on a stronger hue, one that surrounds you like a cloud. Your small hand reaches down for him, fingers grasping in open air. Neteyam is quick to use the hand not half way up your pussy to hold your own, looking up at you. “You said you’d take care of me, alpha.”

Perhaps in a situation not distorted by desperate lust and the sweet scent of your erotic perfume Neteyam would be tempted to put you over his knees for trying to manipulate him, but the clenching of your velvet walls around his fingers is enough to keep him focused on being balls deep inside of you instead. You can see the moment that his resolve crumbles to ashes, it’s accentuated by a deep growl and narrowed eyes.

You watch with hungry eyes as Neteyam hastily claws at the strings of his loincloth. It’s a wonder that it doesn’t rip underneath his harsh fingers but it finally falls away and your pupils dilate at the sight. His length stands heavily against his stomach, curving slightly under its own weight. Saliva gathers in your mouth as you observe the freckled stars that glow under the dim light of the room and scatter over his shaft till reaching the tip. A bead of precum is settled there and for the first time, you understand the desire to put your mouth in such sinful places.

Neteyam preens under your awed attention, his hindbrain purring in delight at seeing his little mate impressed with what he has to offer. His grin widens when he notices your hand hesitantly reaching towards it. You stop, however, before getting to touch.

“It’s ok, Tanhi. You can touch.” The three fingers leave your entrance with a squelching sound. Neteyam confidently keeps eye contact while licking the digits clean with a soft purr, then that large hand is wrapping around your own and leading you towards his twitching member.

Even with Neteyam’s guidance, you’re unable to wrap the entirety of his width in your grip, but he doesn’t appear to be bothered by it. In fact, a devious spark lights in his smile as he watches you struggle to hold it. Although, you will probably never admit it outside of heat, you too enjoy the dramatic size difference between the two of you. On more than one occasion you have let your arousal ruin your loincloth just from having his large body completely wrapped around your own, tucking you away so easily.

A small gasp leaves your throat when his cock twitches in your hand. Neteyam can’t keep his cooing laughter in as he pets affectionately at your hair. He pauses to take a breath from the mask while still smirking.

“You see what you do to me, baby girl?”

The taste of iron erupts in your mouth and it is only then that you realize you’ve been crushing your bottom lips between sharp teeth.

“Is it…uncomfortable?” It feels silly to be so bashful after having his lips along your pussy moments earlier, but you can’t help but keep your voice down to a whisper. You thank the Great Mother for the privacy that the scientists have allowed the two of you over the past few days. There would be no recovery for your dignity if they were to walk in on this scene. Heat or not, being whiny and oblivious is embarrassing.

“Hm, sometimes my love. If relief is not given.” He guides your thumb to run over the head. “Mostly it gets my thoughts traveling to tempting places. Imagining all the different ways I can have you laid out for me.” The weight of your eyelids seem to increase with every word he speaks. His other hand running up and down your inner thigh only adds to the lust filled daze that has captured you.

“Wondering what you would taste like.” Being the cheeky alpha that he is, Neteyam doesn’t let the opportunity pass by without reaching a few digits down to his soaked thigh and swirling the substance between his fingers. He simultaneously continues to help you jerk his thick member slowly while sticking the dripping fingers into his mouth profanely.

“My imagination, however, doesn’t do it justice.” He hums with delight, his pink tongue swiping over his bottom lip to collect any escaping juices. “My thoughts are merely a facade in comparison to the real thing. They can’t do you justice.”

You subconsciously tighten your grip around him at the words, causing a low groan to rumble from his chest. Another trickle of slick coats your entrance. You’re in absolute awe at your body's ability to get close to cumming just from the dark noises and words that spill from your mate’s lips. Not to mention the twitching weight of his cock restrained in your hand.

“Then stop imagining and come here.” You leap forward and capture his lips with your own. Neteyam’s hum of surprise morphs into a viscous growl as your tongues fight for dominance. The little gasps and groans that slip into the kiss as you pump his cock is electrifying. It’s borderline addicting to see that way the mighty Omatikaya Prince bucks his hips for you. A sense of power to know that you can get him melting like this.

Never breaking the kiss, Neteyam shuffles your body forward and the two of you start to guide his cock towards your fluttering pussy. All forms of trepidation are gone. Your body screams from every pore that you can take it. You trust these instincts as the thick head of his member prods at your entrance.

Your lips part against his mouth in a gasp when the head slips past your entrance. Slick walls stretch in ways that you couldn’t have imagined and it feels as if you are about to be split in half. Neteyam continues to kiss and nip at your lips gleefully while carefully continuing to guide himself in inch by inch.

“You’re being such a good girl for me.” He coos as your eyes scrunch shut tightly. It feels as if the length will never stop, as if he is about to reach your chest from the inside, but Neteyam is patient. He takes his sweet time checking up on you with every inch and soaking his tone and words with constant praises. It does this trick, scratching at that primal desire to please your alpha.

When his balls finally meet the curve of your ass, little whimpers rain from you consistently.

“N-nete, so b-big.” You cry, forehead touching his own as you struggle to take in ragged breaths. He forces you to take a breath from the mask hanging from his neck.

“I know, baby. So perfect and tight around me.” His own voice shakes slightly. “God damn!” The english phrase sounds like gibberish to your ears but you understand the sentiment nonetheless.

Settled there to let you adjust, your head lolls to his shoulder. When his cock twitches, you clamp your teeth down on his exposed shoulder to stabilize yourself. Neteyam encourages the oral fixation through hissed words of praise. Tears spill from your eyes but it’s hard to say what the source of your crying is. The stretch is uncomfortable but you can’t deny the certain tinge of pleasure that courses through you when a slight shift reminds you of how full your pussy is. Eventually, your heat takes the edge off, rewarding your ability to secure a mate with a pulsing clit and dripping entrance.

It takes a moment to realize that Neteyam is calling your name, you eventually snap out of it when his lips murmur it straight into your flicking ears.

“Hand me your kuru, baby.” Your hands obey on their own accord. “Want you to understand how good you feel, Tanhi. How happy you make me.”

When those dancing tendrils wrap securely around one another, your eyes go from sleepy slits to dilated pupils of awe. It never becomes old being able to feel Neteyam so closely. To feel his breath and strength. To have his own emotions coalesce with yours. A vulnerable certainty of how he is feeling. In this state, neither of you can hide. There is no deceit. There are no polite formalities. You both have direct access to the other’s soul.

This time, a new current of sensation travels through the bond. It sparks into growing forms of ecstasy that makes you groan. It’s a strange thing to accept, but you can feel your own tights walls secured around him. Hugging him so tightly in the warmth of your cunt, velvety texture caressing him with every shift. Underneath that pleasure also grows an unyielding lust that pricks at his self control with every passing second. His hindbrain is screaming at him to move. To claim. To fill your womb with his seed until it drips out from you.

It’s better than if the words had come from his own lips. It sets you into a feral need to complete these fantasies.

“Can you feel me, baby girl?” His arms are securely wrapped around your middle to keep you tight against him.

“Yes Nete, feel all of you. Need all of you. W-want you to move.” The ability to form coherent sentences starts to slip between your fingers. Neteyam, however, requires no further instruction. Your back hits the hammock once more as his strong grip clasps around the soft flesh of your hips. The mask is settled over your lips by the alpha before he continues.

Slowly, but surely, he draws out with smooth and continuous thrusts. Your cunt clenches around him almost painfully, as if to keep him locked there. Once the tip is just barely past your entrance he starts to slide back in smoothly. The prolonged thrusts eventually angle in a way that hits a bundle of nerves inside you that has never been explored by you before. Neteyam moans in sync with you as he can feel your own pleasure every time the head of his cock rubs at the rosy spot.

It spurs him forward. You don’t have to explicitly tell him to go faster because he can feel it straight through the bond. It allows you to focus the energy you have left on gripping his shoulders for dear life. A brutal rhythm begins to take place, your legs wrapped around his waist.

“Oh Eywa!” You screech. The obscene noises of skin slapping fills the room along with Neteyam’s loosed growls and grunts.

“That’s not my name, Tanhi.” The alpha teases, but you can feel the aching desire he has to hear his own name upon your lips. To have the auditory satisfaction of knowing he is pleasing his little mate.

“N-neteyam oh haa Nete!”

His precision at hitting your g spot increases. Neteyam learns your body with an impressive speed. One hand comes up to palm and tease your breasts in his large hand. His eyes switching back and forth between watching his cock disappear inside of you and marveling at the nipple hardening between his pinched fingers.

Everything starts to become a blur for you. The origins of sounds are unknown. Several times you are surprised to find that the high pitched screams are coming from your own throat. Your body shakes and trembles as if it is about to shatter into a million pieces. And that is what you come to truly believe as it overwhelms your senses. It is so consuming and new that you start to sputter little pleas of mercy to your mate, convinced that you truly will die from this overload of sensations.

“It’s alright, Tanhi. You’re alright. Just let go for me. Let it all go.”

Your hair tangles in the woven material of the hammock as you shake your head. Neteyam thrusts become ragged and less coordinated but he slips a hand down to fondle at your clit. You scream and arch, cumming harder than ever before. Neteyam is less than a second behind you, feeling the effects of your orgasm through the bond. Warm ropes of seeds paint your inner walls.

The first normal sense that comes to you is the feeling of Neteyam’s heavy and warm body collapsed on top of yours. Heated breath tickles at your neck, intermittent with sweet kisses and nonsense murmurs. You let yourself bask in the afterglow. Your body is sore and motionless, but luckily Neteyam takes over. Only a tiny sound comes from you when he slips out.

“Come here, tanhi.” Your boneless body is pulled to lay on top of him. Soothing affection swims across the bond when you nuzzle your face against his chest. The swing of the hammock and rhythm of his heartbeat is quickly luring you to sleep.

Neteyam grabs your hand and kisses it sweetly. You can vaguely make out the sound of his voice, but the words are like garbled noises which never compute in your brain. It’s hard to say whether or not it’s english or if you just can’t understand simple words now in your fucked out state. Still, you like the way it makes his chest rumble.

“Neteyam.” The rumble stops, tail flickering as he waits patiently.

“I see you.” Your words are barely more than a whisper in the stuffy room but they ring true. He gently places the breathing mask over your lips again before your eyes close.

“You’re all I see, little star.”

Taglist @yurmomsawh0r @nilahsstuff @name-saken @luvv4j4ybe11 @stylishtoast @karateperson @henhouse-horrors @easy2004 @whisperingwillow0854 @whenercolorfulrainbowlol @neteyamtesuli

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goodnightmemes · 2 months

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HOUSE OF THE DRAGON SEASON TWO SENTENCE STARTERS

❛ Duty is sacrifice. It eclipses all things, even blood. All men of honor must pay its price.

❛ War is coming, to the whole of the realm.❜

❛ I am indebted to you. ❜

❛ I'm afraid. ❜

❛ We should've just killed her when we had the chance. ❜

❛ When the king speaks, Your Grace, all hear it. ❜

❛ I find myself wondering...do we pursue the same end? ❜

❛ You must accept that the path to victory now is one of violence. ❜

❛ Did you think I would wither in your absence? ❜

❛ You only blame me because your true enemies are out of reach. ❜

❛ She holds love for our enemy. That makes her a fool. ❜

❛ I promise you, you will have all the vengeance that you seek, but you must keep a grip on your impulses. ❜

❛ Do anything but what I ask, and I'll bleed the whole lot of ya. ❜

❛ The gods punish us. They punish me. ❜

❛ This is not the time for blind accusations. We'll know who did this soon enough. ❜

❛ I will not be seen as weak. ❜

❛ Sometimes, we have to pretend. ❜

❛ I cannot trust you. I've never trusted you, wholly, much though I wished to, willed myself to. But now I have seen that your heart belongs only to you. ❜

❛ You think me some kind of monster. ❜

❛ You're pathetic. ❜

❛ We can afford no further mistakes. ❜

❛ You are mad. Mad! You cannot think that I did this! ❜

❛ You would send me to my death. ❜

❛ I would remind you only that when princes lose their temper, it is often others who suffer. ❜

❛ I see all your great adventures have done nothing for your looks. ❜

❛ For too long, I made it my aim to be of consequence. But now, I see that was the wish of a child. ❜

❛ I wish to spill blood, not ink! ❜

❛ Instead of judgment, you display impetuousness, and diminish us in the eyes of our enemy! ❜

❛ Fuck dignity! I want revenge. ❜

❛ They wish now not for the good of the realm, but for the petty satisfaction of vengeance. ❜

❛ Soon they will not even remember what it was that began the war in the first place. ❜

❛ There is no war so hateful to the gods as a war between kin. ❜

❛ I'm as fearsome as any of them. ❜

❛ You showed me grace when you could have withheld it. I'm not often surprised. ❜

❛ I cannot promise to make you happy. But I ask you: make this sacrifice willingly, for all of us. ❜

❛ If you've not yet surmised, you are welcome here. ❜

❛ Sin begets sin begets sin. ❜

❛ If dragons begin fighting dragons, we invite our own destruction. ❜

❛ Do not coddle me. Grant me at least that dignity. ❜

❛ Sadness is a condition of motherhood. ❜

❛ You have as much claim to grief as anyone. ❜

❛ Tales take on a life of their own, like weeds. Unless they are tended. ❜

❛ Always coming and going, aren't you? And I have to clean up afterwards. ❜

❛ You will die in this place. ❜

❛ I have been, at times, unkind, but never untrue. ❜

❛ You must go before you are discovered. ❜

❛ Your mother must've been very beautiful. ❜

❛ You should've burned them when you had the chance. ❜

❛ Is there no honor left in this world? ❜

❛ This is a better death than a traitor deserves. You should thank me for it. ❜

❛ I will not be made to look a fool in front of my allies and enemies. ❜

❛ I believe it is a sin to deny your appetites. They are what make us fully alive as mortal men. ❜

❛ If I may be so bold, you have not seemed yourself of late. ❜

❛ I've barely had the hours to grieve one tragedy before suffering the next. ❜

❛ I've come to know the face of tortured rest well enough. ❜

❛ Do you think simply wearing the crown imbues you with wisdom? ❜

❛ You have no idea the sacrifices that were made to put you on that throne. ❜

❛ What would you have me do? ❜

❛ Do simply what is needed of you: nothing. ❜

❛ Where have you been, these last days? You vanished without so much as a word.❜

❛ There are those who have mistaken my caution for weakness. Let that be their undoing. ❜

❛ If you die, all is lost. ❜

❛ The horrors I have just loosed cannot be for a crown alone. ❜

❛ Do you take issue with me? ❜

❛ I can sit still no longer. I must act. ❜

❛ I did not think they would be so eager to die. ❜

❛ I need them alive. I came here to raise swords, not corpses. ❜

❛ Will you goad me? When your bread and shelter now depend on my pleasure? ❜

❛ I mislike feeling powerless. ❜

❛ I do not know my part. The path I walk has never been trod. ❜

❛ What you cannot do, let others do for you. ❜

❛ There is more than one way to fight a war. ❜

❛ I do not wish to stand alone. ❜

❛ Has your loyalty faded? Or does it flourish only at night and flee the sunrise like a moth? ❜

❛ What we must do now is... terrible. ❜

❛ This is not war. These are crimes against the innocent, that any upright man would repudiate. ❜

❛ And once again, in the name of power, it's the weak and the women who must endure. ❜

❛ Was it worth the price? ❜

❛ I caution you, boldness is one thing, but overconfidence… ❜

❛ You have the impetuousness of youth, and its arrogance, neither of which is to be desired in a king. ❜

❛ Have the indignities of your childhood not yet sufficiently been avenged? ❜

❛ To claim a dragon, you must also be prepared to die. ❜

❛ You can't possibly still be angry about this. ❜

❛ You weren't going to bid me farewell? ❜

❛ It is your way, is it not? When something does not please you, you run. ❜

❛ There are older things in this world than you or I, or living memory. ❜

❛ You are not the player, but a piece on the board. As am I, for that matter. ❜

❛ It is my fault, I think, that you have forgotten to fear me. ❜

❛ It was worth the risk, no matter the outcome. ❜

❛ The enemy without may be fought with swords. The enemy within is more insidious. ❜

❛ Do you take me for a fool? ❜

❛ Oh, you make an art of provoking me. ❜

❛ Stop wasting your life waiting for something that'll never come. ❜

❛ I'm sure you did your best. ❜

❛ They will underestimate you, and this will be your advantage. ❜

❛ If the gods call me to greater things, who am I to refuse them? ❜

❛ Nothing is clean here. ❜

❛ The order of things has changed. Why not embrace it? ❜

❛ It does seem to me that you've made rather a mess here. ❜

❛ I don't need their love. I need their swords. ❜

❛ Mind your tongue. ❜

❛ I mislike all of this. ❜

❛ It seems you need us more than we need you. ❜

❛ So, what was the fucking point in all this then? ❜

❛ It's best to live, I think. However you do it. ❜

❛ You are not alone. ❜

❛ Will you prepare to face such an enemy? Or will you stay here and make yourself easy? ❜

❛ If you hinder our efforts through sloth or unreadiness, I will see you hanged, and your body fed to the dogs in the street. ❜

❛ You've arrived just in time to see my new army. What do you think of it? ❜

❛ This place will have you barking at the moon. ❜

❛ We must all make our sacrifices. ❜

❛ 'Tis no longer our rule that is threatened, our very lives. ❜

❛ Perhaps all men are corrupt and true honor is a mist that melts in the morning. ❜

❛ The dragons dance, and men are like dust under their feet. ❜

❛ We march now toward our annihilation. ❜

❛ There will be time enough to see which one of us is a coward. ❜

❛ There are omens here for those who seek them. ❜

❛ It's all a story and you are but one part in it. You know your part. ❜

❛ I am meant to serve you, and all of these with me, until death or the end of our story. ❜

❛ Be strong. You know you are just. ❜

❛ History will paint you a villain. ❜

❛ I am at last myself, with no ambition greater than to walk where I please and to breathe the open air. To die unremarked and unnoticed and be free. ❜

❛ You speak as if from a distant dream. ❜

❛ Come with me. ❜

❛ My part is here, whether I will or no. It was decided for me long ago. ❜

#rp meme #sentence starters #rp sentence meme #sentence meme #rp prompt #inbox memes #roleplay prompts #roleplay meme #sentence starter meme #rp memes #rp prompts #royalty meme #royalty prompt #period drama meme #*tv #*hotd

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jessamine-rose · 4 months

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⋆˚♱ଘ Annular Eclipse ଓ♱˚⋆

A long time ago, I binge-watched The Ancient Magus’ Bride and that decision came back to haunt me in my Church AU…… *evil laugh*

As always, thank you to @diodellet for beta-reading this piece!! And to my dear mutuals, I hope you all suffer enjoy the sinful story of Cartaphilus! Pierro x Angel! Darling ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭

Tw:: yandere, blood, violence, death, suicidal ideation, religious abuse, MDNI

Note:: fictional depictions of religion

♡ 5.7k words under the cut ♡

♡ Among God’s creations, His favorite is granted a special fate. Though all lives end in death, only humanity is blessed with salvation and afterlife. Those who live righteously may thus ascend to Heaven, whereas sinners are condemned to eternal suffering in Hell. There is, however, one exception—a fragment of humanity whose sins may never be forgiven.

♡ Legends speak of Khaenri’ah, the nation of sinners. Once the pride of humankind, its citizens challenged God through their creations in alchemy and technology—and the entire nation was subsequently destroyed in a sea of flames. In the wake of the Cataclysm, pollen from the Tree of Life rained down upon the survivors, afflicting them with their final punishment, immortality.

♡ Since then, Khaenri’ahns have roamed the mortal plane in a perpetual state of living. Denied a place in Heaven and Hell, they are cursed to live forever no matter what harm befalls their body and psyche. Due to their wicked reputation, they must also live in fear of their once-fellow humans, lest they face persecution. For this reason, eternity differs among Khaenri’ahns, with a unique fate reserved for the one who goes by the name of Pierro.

♡ After the Cataclysm, Pierro led a group of survivors to Snezhnaya where they established a new home. For three centuries, it was a peaceful haven hidden from the divine gaze of God and the Church…until it was exposed by a traitor and destroyed with manmade flames. In the ensuing chaos, Pierro was the sole “survivor” in the sense that he managed to escape. The rest were critically wounded, buried alive, and left to suffer for all eternity.

♡ Having lost his second home, Pierro began a search for other Khaenri’ahns, only to be further disillusioned. Many communities had also fallen to ruin, if not from persecution but by their own madness. Others, blinded by dreams of death, had resorted to violence and witchcraft in their fruitless attempts to break the curse. And several individuals had embarked on quests for the Tree of Life, only to disappear far away from their homeland. In two more centuries, Khaenri’ah was reduced to a forgotten myth, and Pierro had lost all hope for his people.

♡ So when he gets into an accident, he sees no point in saving himself. If he were younger, he’d be horrified at the thought of falling off a cliff. At best, he’d end up with more scars albeit another permanent reminder of his tragic fate. As for the worst-case scenario, he’d become paralyzed, trapped below the cliff, doomed to eternity as a living corpse. But now, hanging off the edge by his fingertips, he considers the possibility that his head takes the brunt of the impact. A coma would be the closest thing to a reprieve from his waking hell.

♡ Just as his grip weakens, a hand reaches out and catches his wrist. The action is so sudden, so forceful, that Pierro has no time to think before he is pulled up and his back hits the grass. Above him, eclipsing his view of the sun, is the face of a stranger. A tearful expression. A kind gaze that seems to pierce through his soul.

“Are you hurt? Why didn’t you call for help?! You poor thing, I’m sorry for only seeing you now.”

“I am…” He averts your gaze and instead focuses on the sky. It is the color of twilight—a harmony of blues, oranges, and reds that pale in comparison to the crimson skies of his nightmares. “...fine. Thank you for your kindness.”

♡ Once the shock wears off, Pierro takes a careful look at his savior. You have the appearance of a typical human, roughly the same age as he was when his body stopped aging. Definitely not a Khaenri’ahn, given your lack of cursed marks and star-shaped pupils. Neither are there any religious symbols on your clothing, which is a relief. As for your tears shed on his behalf…he’ll chalk it up to pity.

♡ At your insistence, you treat him to a meal at the nearest inn. When Pierro introduces himself as an ordinary traveler, you make a similar claim and suggest journeying together. It is a tempting offer—the both of you are alone with no destination in mind, and you seem harmless. So against his better judgment, Pierro accepts your proposal.

♡ Over time, he warms up to his new companion. You are kind, competent, a bright presence in his life. Traveling with you is like seeing the world with new eyes—you lead him to bustling cities, picturesque forests, places teeming with life. The only downside is your visits to the Church for prayers and chats with the local priests, but you at least seem to be an open-minded believer. You always tell Pierro that he doesn’t need to follow along but he does so anyway, if only to evade suspicion and admire the religious art with you.

♡ Other than that, you don’t reveal much about yourself. But you aren’t one to pry into Pierro’s past so he gives you the same courtesy. At times, he finds himself looking at you fondly, feeling a spark of physical attraction, dreaming of a happy future with you. But those delusions are always dashed by the fact of your humanity, so he instead resolves to cherish what little time you have left before death claims your soul.

♡ That was his goal until he begins to notice certain…oddities. It’s common for the two of you to share a tent, a room, sometimes even a bed. Neither of you are fazed by it, especially when Pierro’s main concern is concealing his cursed marks with makeup. But a few months into your travels, he makes a quiet realization: In those nights of shared slumber, not once has he fallen asleep without feeling your gaze on him.

♡ At first, he assumes that you merely sleep later and wake up earlier than him. But every time Pierro wakes up in the middle of the night, you immediately sit up and tend to him, acting as energetic as usual. Neither do you appear lethargic after nights when it is difficult to sleep. So he puts it to the test by regularly chatting with you late into the night; you always follow along, not once sounding tired nor in want of sleep. Once, he talks to you all night long and in the morning, while Pierro is plagued with fatigue, you look perfectly awake. And only when he subtly points it out do you yawn and go back to bed.

♡ Other mysteries follow. There is the time the two of you trekked through a barren wasteland and ran out of food. It took you two days to reach civilization and while Pierro was starving, you never complained about hunger. If anything, you still managed to walk and fight off beasts at your usual energy levels. And on the rare chance that Pierro is injured, you are the one who treats his wounds…and they always heal at an unnaturally fast pace.

♡ A year into your travels, he decides to look for answers. One night, he shares a bed with you and feigns sleep. For the next few hours, he just lies there and takes note of your unnatural way of sleeping—no slowed breaths, no involuntary movements, yet the persistent feeling that he is still being watched. Shortly after midnight, he pulls out a dagger from under his pillow and aims it at you.

♡ It was only a test to see if you’d react quickly and reveal your ruse. Which is exactly what you do, eyes fluttering open and your hand catching the dagger before Pierro can stop short of stabbing your chest. The look on your face is calm, utterly devoid of fear, and you make no move to leave the bed. You just stare at him with the same piercing gaze.

“Good morning,” you tell him. “Are you going to explain the sudden wakeup call? I don’t believe this is rooted in any Khaenri’ahn practices.”

At the mention of his homeland, Pierro’s grip on the dagger tightens. “So it appears that my suspicions were not unfounded. Answer me, are you a spy of the Church?”

Your answer is a benevolent smile. A soft light shines from your body as a halo—silver, pierced with nails—appears behind your head, followed by a wispy veil. Luminous wings emerge from your back, caging Pierro in a feathery embrace.

Your hand, marked with a bloodstained scar, wraps around his wrist.

“I’m your guardian angel,” you whisper.

♡ Technically, your statement is untrue. In a calm voice, you explain that Khaenri’ahns can’t be assigned guardian angels due to their immortality. Moreover, most angels harbor contempt for his kind though you are a rare exception, having taken pity on Pierro and chosen to become his unofficial guardian. The last part triggers an offended response—are you mocking him?

♡ As for your true nature, you’re the leader of the Archangels. As an angel of the Third Sphere, you are one of the closest to humanity, a divine messenger with the additional tasks of providing blessings and guiding humans towards the path of righteousness. Only, you’re currently on a ten-year “break;” it just so happened that you noticed Pierro at the start of your sabbatical.

♡ Once he is confident that you won’t smite him in cold blood, he goes to sleep—it’s been a long night and fatigue will only dull his senses. When he wakes up, he can almost believe that last night’s events were a dream…until you loom over him in your true form, wishing him a good morning. After a long conversation, he decides to continue traveling with you. That way, he can keep a close eye on you and gain some useful knowledge.

♡ Thus resumes your journey. In addition to Pierro’s distrust, there are major changes to your dynamic. You still travel in your human guise but you switch to your true form when it’s just the two of you. Since angels don’t need food or sleep to sustain themselves, you stop eating with him unless you’re in public. At night, only one bed is needed and you simply watch over Pierro, wishing him a peaceful slumber. Your gentle gaze is always the last thing he sees each day, though it takes months before he can fall asleep comfortably.

♡ He also learns about your nightly pastimes. As it turns out, while Pierro is asleep, you like to fly around the city to help lost souls. Just small acts of kindness in your human form…and if needed, divine interventions in the Church. It explains why he often wakes up to news about corrupt priests who experienced “visions of an angel” and publicly confessed their sins.

♡ Along your journey, you also stop by the homes of the humans previously assigned to you. At the beginning of each visit, you go to the cemetery and speak to their grave. Afterwards, you bring Pierro to their favorite places and reminisce about their lives. When he asks why you can’t simply see them in Heaven, you give him a sad smile and explain that the deceased reside in a realm beyond the jurisdiction of angels. In a paradise where every soul is purged of sin, what use is there for an angel’s guidance?

♡ You mourn the lives of angels as well. It comes as a shock to Pierro, the idea that even an angel is susceptible to death. To which you explain that many of your divine siblings were killed by demons. And because afterlife does not exist for spiritual beings, both species simply cease to exist once their lives have ended. As for your former brethren, they cut all ties with you after their descent.

♡ Slowly, Pierro grows to trust you again. It helps that you were able to prove yourself a year later by saving him from your own kind. Granted, he could suspect that it was merely an act but the sight of a Principality cowering before you, their cassock staked to the floor by silver nails, is quite convincing. Not to mention your cold gaze overflowing with wrath.

“So tell me. Why exactly did you attack my dear human?”

The room is silent, save for the younger angel’s whimpers. To think that a few minutes ago, Pierro had been sleeping peacefully. Now he stands beside you, blood trickling from a cut under his scarred eye, still gripping his unused sword.

“I…” Despite being a rank above you, his attacker is clearly terrified. “But ______, that man…he is one of the accursed sinners! He—”

“Now, now.” You kneel to their level but all kindness is lost in your tone. More nails appear out of thin air, all pointing towards the angel’s body. “Look me in the eye when I am talking to you.”

♡ In the end, the angel kneels before Pierro and begs for forgiveness. He accepts their apology, but not without harsh words and a swipe of his sword against their face. After they leave, you worriedly turn to Pierro and heal his injuries. Thanks to your powers, all of his wounds close up without a trace. Still, when you take your hand off his face, what he sees in the mirror is not his healed cheek but the cursed marks exclusive to Khaenri’ahns.

*✧･ﾟ

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

Despite the nature of the attack, you are the one acting emotional. A tear rolls down your cheek as you trace the cursed side of Pierro’s face.

“You need not apologize on behalf of your brethren,” he mutters. He glances at his right arm, sleeve pulled up to reveal a similar pattern of blue veins and black markings. “...or your Heavenly Father. And I believe I’ve told you countless times not to waste your tears on me.”

“Still.” Shaking your head, you look him in the eye. “How can I not cry every time I gaze into your soul? I wish I could save you, put an end to your suffering…but it’s beyond my capability.”

“So why do you still devote yourself to me, ______?”

______. It is the false name you go by in the human realm, spoken by every person who has known you as their guardian angel. As for your true name, it remains a mystery to Pierro.

Still, he’d like to believe that he is the human who knows you best. He knows that you are the First Archangel, one of the oldest beings in existence. He knows that you were opposed to the Cataclysm but powerless in stopping it. He knows that your decade of rest was caused by an accumulation of stress, an endless cycle of giving and saving and sacrificing which will only continue in a few years’ time.

And what then? At the end of your journey, will you still have time for him? Or is he truly cursed to drift aimlessly in eternal solitude?

His half-mask rests on a nearby drawer, a relic from his second home. He picks it up, thumb pressed against a painted gold tear.

“You astound me,” he continues. “You, of all people, know that salvation is forever beyond my grasp. And yet you continue to spare me absolute grace. Anyone else would have deemed me a lost cause.”

“That is because I love you.”

At that, Pierro nearly drops his mask. He turns to you, starry eyes wide with wonder. “Can you kindly repeat that?”

But the moment he sees your face, he realizes his folly.

“I love you,” you tell him, a soft look in your eyes, “as I love all humans.”

Has kindness ever sounded so cruel?

“...I understand.” He puts down his mask, pride shattered. “Such is to be expected from a being for whom the love for humanity is inherent.”

A love which he and his compatriots are no longer beholden to.

“But of course.” At that, your countenance turns reverent. Your wings fold inwards, and you place a bloodstained hand over your chest. “An angel’s purpose is to serve God and to save His creations. Beyond that, there is no other point to our existence.”

Silence. This time, Pierro doesn’t bother to hide his judgment.

“Well, that is our initial reason,” you add, noticing his expression. “After all, what’s not to love when your kind is capable of so many wonderful things? Really, you never fail to surprise us.”

“How so?”

“I’ll confess, many of us angels were once in awe of Khaenri’ah,” you admit. “Think of it: Your people found a way to create life, sorcery, powers that were once exclusive to God. Had I met you during your days as a royal mage, I surely would have been impressed.”

Hard to say. Despite his previous status, Pierro hasn’t practiced Khaenri’ahn sorcery in years. It’s likely that his powers have eroded alongside his spirit.

“Then only a century after the Cataclysm, there was the Angel-Killer who performed miracles using our flesh. As a matter of fact…I made the mistake of assigning his first victim to him.”

Your grief isn’t lost on him. The bed creaks as you take a seat next to Pierro, adjusting the chain of mourning lockets around your waist. It bears mementos of both humans and angels.

“Thirteen angels lost their lives to him, including two of my dearest siblings. Needless to say, we were all relieved when Il Dottore finally died, though I had to be given a century’s worth of rest to recover from grief. Sohreh, Pasithea, Oizys…I still think of them to this day.”

Il Dottore. He is an infamous figure in history, a priest whose sins rivaled those of Khaenri’ah. And yet even he was granted the mercy of death.

“And there are the humans I was blessed to watch over,” you tell him, eyes shining with tears. “I remember all of their names, their smiles, every achievement they made in their short lives. And I’m sure that there will be more in the future.”

That is the final nail in the coffin.

“You are right.” With that, Pierro leaves the bed. “As such, there is no need for you to dwell on how the world is now. I have no doubt that many souls owe their salvation to you, ______, and anyone would be a fool to dismiss your efforts.”

“...Thank you. It means a lot.”

You don’t let him leave, however. A hand around his wrist is all it takes for Pierro to stop, to yield to your embrace. In the dim room, you are the only source of light, an idol of unparalleled benevolence. Divine, beautiful, yet never within his reach.

“Eight more years,” you tell him. In your eyes, his reflection has never looked more hopeful. “That is the amount of time we have left. And until then, I will never leave your side.”

*✧･ﾟ

♡ The next eight years are content. More travels. Deep conversations. Peaceful nights. Another angelic encounter, in which a subordinate merely reported to you and avoided Pierro’s gaze. At one point, you reveal to him that the Tree of Life is no longer in the human realm, eliminating any hope of breaking the curse. His devastation is softened by your comfort, and he can only imagine the reactions of his compatriots if they knew this truth.

♡ Not that he has anyone to share it with. In the Church of Fontaine, Pierro is surprised to recognize the head priest as a Khaenri’ahn. She is only a descendant and thus spared from the curse—a blessing for Arlecchino, a tragedy for her ancestor who likely mourned the generations between them. After their chat, Pierro leaves without divulging her lineage. It’s enough to know that one of his kind is leading a fulfilling life, though he finds it ironic that a Church ended up in a Khaenri’ahn’s hands.

♡ Other than her, there is the familiar face he spotted in Inazuma. Blond hair, blue eyes with star-shaped pupils, a distinctive half-mask…but before Pierro can approach Dainsleif, you grip his wrist and enable him to see the eagle-winged demon clinging to his former comrade. In a fearful whisper, you explain that she is one of Hell’s strongest demons, the slayer of countless angels. And when she turns in your direction, Pierro feels the weight of her crimson-gold glare. In the end, the two of you walk past them, preventing what could have been a bloody reunion.

♡ As your sabbatical reaches its end, Pierro finds himself making the most of your remaining time together. He smiles at you, holds your hand first, asks you more personal questions. Your travels also end in a surprise destination—a forest near Snezhnaya, concealed with divine mist. Leading the way, you explain that it was a meeting place for you and your closest siblings until they all perished, including the Virtue who created it. And when you turn to Pierro, asking if the area suits him…he accepts the gift with full gratitude.

♡ The last year is spent constructing a humble house in the heart of the forest. On the day of your departure, the two of you enjoy a final meal together. It’s bittersweet with recollections of your travels, though the mood dampens when Pierro asks about your angelic duties. With a sad smile, you tell him that you have a lot of work to do. At some point in your journey, you even laid eyes on a young human and applied for a position as their guardian angel.

♡ At midnight, Pierro goes to bed and you wish him good night for the last time. He only closes his eyes when you disappear, when he no longer feels your gaze on him, when the residual warmth of your embrace has been chilled by the night air. When he wakes up in the morning, you are nowhere to be found.

♡ In the following months, Pierro develops a new routine in the forest. Hunting, foraging, visiting the neighboring cities, admiring the aurora-colored sky, even practicing his Khaenri’ahn sorcery. He doesn’t see you again but there are hints of your visits—a luminous white feather, seeds for fauna exclusive to Mondstadt, a wound that healed overnight. Eventually, he gets used to sleeping in solitude again.

♡ One day, he decides to visit his old home. He knows it is futile to seek out his people; after two centuries, their bodies must’ve fully decayed and mixed with the soil. Still, he might as well see what the Church did with the area…and if he can take revenge on the traitor. So he packs his bags, leaves the forest, and travels to the other side of Snezhnaya.

♡ …There’s nothing left. When he reaches his destination, he finds a glorious city built over the mass grave of his people. Only the cold of eternal winter welcomes him back, but the entire city—the devout Snezhnayans, the stories of the city’s origins, the magnificent church in place of his old house—is unfamiliar. Not even the traitor remains. Perhaps they, too, were given a coffin, forever trapped below layers of ice and concrete.

♡ He gets an answer on his way back to the forest. Near the border of Snezhnaya, Pierro is ambushed by a group of heretics…and when he demands an explanation, their leader holds up a preserved eye, the pupil shaped like a four-pointed star. As their fight continues, Pierro deduces their motives—to achieve immortality using the flesh of Khaenri’ahns. It’s pure mockery to hear those fools refer to his curse as a blessing, but his warnings fall on deaf ears as he is outnumbered.

♡ Just as he is about to lose hope, a bright light shines above him. It’s you, in all of your angelic glory, commanding the heretics to let him go. Most of his attackers fall to their knees, in awe of your divine presence, but their leader interprets it as a sign that Pierro is truly the person they’re after. They swing their sword at him…only for their entire group to be impaled by your nails.

♡ It’s a bloody sight. But once your wrath has subsided, you fly down to Pierro and check his condition. You’re incoherent, healing his wounds with trembling hands, apologizing for your late arrival. He assures you that he is fine, only to be interrupted by a sudden ray of light. But this one is blindingly bright, coming from the sky, the same holy light which shone upon Khaenri’ah during the Cataclysm.

♡ It hits him just then: In harming those humans for his sake, you’d violated one of God’s orders. Yet in the midst of His divine wrath, you muster a false smile and tell Pierro to go home. Then you fly up into the sky, disappearing above the clouds along with the holy light. He does as he is told, but not without killing all of the heretics to ensure that they won’t come after him or more Khaenri’ahns. As for the traitor…he doesn’t bother to ask for their location.

♡ The forest is the same when he returns. The next few hours pass by in a blur—unpacking, checking the animal traps, cooking dinner, and so on. The whole time, he can’t stop worrying about you. He doesn’t know if God would listen to his prayers but he tries, anyway; it’s not like he can help you in any other way.

♡ He goes to bed early, only to jolt awake when a flash of light illuminates the bedroom. When he rushes to the window, it’s just in time to see a falling star. It shoots through the sky, outshining the auroras, a beautiful sight if not for the fact that it seems to be drawing closer to him. It disappears from his range of vision, followed by a deafening sound and a severe earthquake. Then the world falls silent, returning to its tranquil state.

♡ After a few minutes, Pierro leaves his house to investigate. Seeing how the meteor bypassed the divine barrier of the forest, he doubts it was a natural phenomenon. You once told him that the Fourth Order of angels, the Dominions, are in charge of the celestial bodies—could they have been ordered to destroy his third home?

♡ Thankfully, the destruction is limited to a crater at the edge of the forest. But instead of a meteor, he finds you curled up in pain. Fragments of your halo pierce your body. Your right wing is gone; all that remains of it are clipped feathers and sawed bone. Most prominent are the curved horns jutting from your head, covered in a mix of blood and torn skin. You became a demon.

♡ Your half-conscious cries prompt him into action. Carefully, Pierro carries you to his house and treats your wounds. When he notices your hand on your stomach, he remembers what you said about demons needing food and sleep to survive. So he heats up some soup and feeds it to you; and once your hunger has subsided, he tucks you in bed. In your delirium, you can only muster a single sentence before falling asleep.

“Pierro? I’m sorry…it’s my fault, not yours.”

“Silence. We may talk tomorrow. But tonight, you must rest.”

♡ That night, you sleep for the first time. Pierro watches you all night, checking your pulse every so often. When you wake up, the sun is high above the sky and Pierro has already cooked lunch. You’re more coherent now, able to feed yourself, though you wince in pain every so often. And when Pierro asks about your descent, your expression darkens.

♡ In a shaky voice, you explain that the heretics’ ambush had been a test from God. It was fated to occur at the same time as an important event in Heaven, the decennial meeting between God and the leaders from all Nine Orders. As soon as Pierro’s name was brought up, you were quick to defend him. And when you were informed of the attack, you stormed out of the meeting to save him, fully aware that it would bring about your downfall.

♡ And despite it all, you’re the one apologizing to him—for your late arrival, for the danger he was put through, for the “burden” of taking care of you. At the last part, Pierro finally finds the words to chastise you, to say that you won’t achieve anything by wasting your tears on Heaven.

“I wish you would not think so lowly of me. After all these years, do you truly believe that I would harbor anything but gratitude towards you?”

♡ That shuts you up. For the next few weeks, you meekly accept Pierro’s care—he cooks for you, dresses your wounds, lets you sleep in his bed. There is only one problem: Your body refuses to heal. Blood continues to seep from your wounds, and you’re in a perpetual state of pain. Still, he faithfully tends to you day and night. It’s the least he can do for you.

♡ One day, he leaves the house to pick fruit and comes back to find a dark silhouette in his bedroom window. He rushes inside, armed with a weapon, to find a demon. Only, they’re kneeling by the bed, holding your hands, shedding tears of joy. That is when he notices the bloodstained scars on their hands, their tattered veil, your kind words for them…they, too, are a fallen Archangel.

♡ All peace, however, is dashed when your former subordinate tells Pierro that they are bringing you “home,” in other words Hell. As for the matter of your health, they claim that while your divine punishment is unheard of, they should be able to find a cure…from Il Dottore of all people. And despite your conflicted expression, it’s clear that you are seriously considering their invitation. Only for Pierro to take that choice away from you.

“And what makes you believe that I would allow ______ to leave our home?”

♡ Prior to you, Pierro never would’ve dared to challenge a spiritual being. But now, after all he’s been through, he takes a step forward and tells the demon to leave. It doesn’t take long for their argument to turn physical. But before the demon can smite him, Pierro defends himself with his Khaenri’ahn sorcery. They’re a formidable opponent, however, and the fight continues until he aims a galaxy-like aura at their heart. Quickly, you protect your former subordinate with a shield of rusty nails, only for the element to refract and hit you instead.

♡ Much to everyone’s relief, however, it has a different effect on you. Your feathers take on a black tint and a deep blue iridescence. The same thing happens to your horns. Most importantly, all of your wounds close up, leaving scars identical to Pierro’s cursed marks. And when he rushes to your side, asking if you are all right, you breathily tell him that you feel so much better.

♡ That is what convinces the demon to leave, but not without promising to return once they’ve informed the Devil. With peace restored in your home, the two of you go downstairs for lunch. You still need Pierro to support you, but it’s the first time you’ve managed to walk in your new form. And your appetite is bigger, healthier compared to your previous portions.

♡ After a few days however, the effect wears off. Your body loses its blue luster, your feathers fade to their original color, your pain returns. Once you’ve fully reverted to your original state, Pierro decides to try out his Khaenri’ahn sorcery again. This time, he holds your wrist and carefully channels his power into you…and it produces the same healing effect.

♡ For the sorcery which doomed his nation to save the life of his beloved…the irony leaves him at a loss of words, on the verge of laughing. But it does explain why you landed in Pierro’s home instead of Hell, and why God allowed the two of you to reunite. The knowledge brings a dark smile to his face. You’re at his mercy now, dependent on him for all eternity.

♡ When he faces you, he can tell that you’ve reached the same conclusion. Still, you entertain the thought of moving to Hell—surely, there must be a way for you to live without forcing Pierro to expend his energy on you. That is when he grips your hands, pulls you towards him, and tells you that you aren’t leaving him. If the two of you are truly fated to suffer, then it is only right that he returns all of the love you have given him.

♡ It’s easy to persuade you. After all you’ve experienced, you’re tired so you just nod and lean into his embrace. And in the following days, you slowly adjust to your new life. You help Pierro around the forest. A new bed is built, to fit two people. At night, the two of you engage in your usual bedtime conversations but you’re the one who falls asleep first.

♡ When your former subordinate returns, Pierro stands his ground. With you asleep, he is able to fight them outside and easily subdue them; he even had the wisdom to enhance his weapons with blood from your used bandages. And with his argument that any attempt on his life is equal to risking yours, they have no choice but to accept your situation.

♡ You’re still asleep when he returns to your shared bedroom. Careful not to wake you, he changes out of his bloody clothes and leaves his sword on the table, next to his old mask. Then he takes off his glove and traces your features with his cursed hand. And when you open your eyes, the look he gives you is one of pure hope.

“Pierro? What time is it?” you mumble.

“Far too early,” he replies. “Go back to sleep. I will join you shortly, ______.”

“...All right.” Yawning, you snuggle into the pillow and close your eyes. “Can you wake me up later? I don’t want to oversleep again.”

He smiles, caressing your cheek. “If you wish.”

It doesn’t take long for you to return to the world of dreams. Your sleeping face is truly a wonder to behold—an expression so tranquil, well-rested, vulnerable to his kiss.

“And when you awake, I want you to tell me your true name.”

♡

More Church AU here!! Dottore ๑ Capitano ๑ Arlecchino ๑ Pantalone

Note:: Please do not send me any Church AU asks/ requests involving characters or dynamics not included in my masterlist.

..…Don’t ask me how Pierro ended up with the highest word count in this AU. All I can say is that it was very cathartic to make him suffer, which is a recurring theme in his fics. If y’all enjoyed his story, do let me know (๑･̑◡･̑๑)

Also, soft launch for the next couple + story!! I’m rlly excited to write for Dainsleif, and just know that he’s in for a lot of surprises <3

Tag a Pierro enjoyer!! @leftdestiny-posts @beloved-blaiddyd @naraven @euniveve @stickyspeckledlight @harmonysanreads @oofasleep @mistymem0ryy @lazyroseart @teabutmakeitazure

#pierro #pierro x reader #yandere pierro x reader #yandere pierro #yandere fatui harbingers #fatui x reader #genshin x reader #tw: yandere #tw: dark #tw: blood #tw: violence #tw: death #tw: sui ideation #mdni #g/n reader #jessamine-writing

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thisgirlnamedblusy · 13 days

Note

heyy, at first I wanted to say I love your works so much! You're so talented with your writing...

Anyway could you write something like G!PDonna x maid reader where y/n was a girl from the village who ran away but got lost and Donna saved her, y/n started working for her for free just to have a place to live and gradually they got closer until Donna realized that she was so in love with her And she starts to be very possessive, but she doesn't show it because they still are not dating and one day Some young vampire comes to visit to pick up something and starts flirting and Donna goes crazy.

They end up in a big fight and Donna ping y/n against a wall and feelings will be revealed....maybe some vanilla smut at the end...

Thanks! And also sorry for my English...i'm still learning<3

Yess!!!! Thank you for you kindness and for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))))))

To be her maid

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, Maid! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, slightly dark themes, possessive Donna

Word count: 8,793

Summary: To leave and die, to stay and love, what a decision...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

Your parents were right: no one could ever leave the village.

Wandering through the forest was always a risk, getting lost in that tangle of trees and snow would be easy even for the bravest of explorers.

But you were not brave, nor an explorer. You were just a villager, an ordinary girl who lost everything, who had no reason to stay in a place like that. Your family was gone, the Black Gods, who Mother Miranda defended, had abandoned you.

With nothing to fight for but your own life, with nothing to thank the Gods for, your only way out was the most risky: escape.

You didn't know what leaving that sinister village could bring you, what a girl like you could do in an unknown world. But, finding out, was much better than waiting for the darkness to consume you.

A small backpack and a desire to escape was your only luggage. Not even your old home had had mercy on you. The outside world offered itself to you as an alternative you couldn’t refuse, or rather, as your only alternative.

A few more hours of walking, and you would be free.

But your illusions outweighed reality, your desire to live outside that darkness eclipsed your situation. You couldn't escape, and deep down, you knew it. Turning around wasn't an option, guiding yourself by the dark lights of the village would only bring you more suffering, you had to continue.

Some growls behind the bushes made you stop and look around. It could be a dog, a forest vermin, something totally harmless. You swallowed as your eyes danced through the forest, looking for a different pattern in the movements of the branches, something that would tell you where those growls were coming from. Everything seemed so calm that it could only be that calm before the storm.

“Calm down, (Y/N), it's just the wind,” you whispered, forcing your legs to walk again. Your reassuring words wouldn’t take long to lose their effect.

One step, two, three... Footsteps in the snow that sounded closer and closer petrified your body again.

“Okay,” you whispered again, taking a map out of your pocket, one that indicated the path to freedom beyond the domain of the dark deities, of Mother Miranda, of the Lords...

The snow made it difficult for you to orient yourself, but your movements resumed automatically, moving away from the noise and deviating from the path. The faster you walked, the faster those footsteps in the snow seemed. Reality was stalking you, although you refused to believe it.

A furious roar diverted your gaze from the bushes. It was not a man, nor a wolf, it was a monster. One of those chosen by Mother Miranda to protect the village, to protect your insignificant lives, stood before you with a bloodthirsty gaze.

Lycan, that was its name, the name the Gods gave to that poor villager whose blind faith drove him to become a beast.

You breathed heavily, but fear made you back away. Those bloody eyes stared at you as the cold steam came out of its jaws. You didn't want to go back, but you had to find an alternative route.

Behind you, more monstrous creatures waited to devour you, to punish you for your audacity. They only growled, watching you, waiting for the best moment to attack you.

Your voice dried up and your body trembled with terror. You had nothing to fight for, but many reasons to live, to not let fear consume you, to flee, to escape, to earn that freedom.

With your eyes you looked for a corner, a gap in the bushes that you approached slowly. The growls of the beasts confirmed their displeasure, and they were the signal you needed to start running.

You fled without a destination, unable to look back.

Your strength weakened after a short time, they didn’t get tired of chasing you. You seemed safe, but you still heard their roars. After taking a breath, you continued running forward, until the path became rocky and then, nonexistent.

Your feet found no ground to support them and your body fell into the void. You rolled down a steep slope, covering your head. No, you couldn't end up like this.

With a thud, you fell to the ground. The creatures roared, but apparently, they couldn't see you.

“Oh...” you lamented, getting up from the penetrating cold of the snow, looking around. “I think I have lost them...” you whispered, scanning the clearing with your gaze. There was only an old tree surrounded by rock walls.

Not managing to recognize the place, you took out the map again, looking for something similar. You didn't find it, you were lost.

“What is this?” you asked, approaching an object hanging from the tree, something that looked like a hanged person. Of course, it wasn't, it was just an old doll. “A doll?”

Before your reasoning could begin to draw conclusions, a cloud of snow came down the wall you fell down. You hadn't lost them. The lycans would never stop until they got their prey.

With no time to react, you ran again, the roars were getting closer. In front of you there was only one way out: an old wooden bridge. You couldn't even stop to take a look at the map, even though you were convinced you had seen that bridge somewhere.

It didn't matter anymore. The wolves were chasing you even through that unstable wood. The other side was anything but a safe place. Not even the heights or the instability seemed to those beasts to want to stop.

Your clumsiness caused you to stumble again, falling to the ground. You felt claws pulling at your leg, the satisfied growls of those beasts dragging you into their jaws. (Y/N) had met her end.

“No!” you screamed desperately, kicking that lycan in a last attempt to save yourself, one that you knew was useless. “No, no, no!”

You could already feel the breath of that monster, that anxious panting to devour your flesh but, suddenly, your leg was released with a gasp of pain.

You opened your eyes to check what had happened. The four creatures that were chasing you had moved away, looking at you with impossible, terrified eyes. Agonizing cries came from their jaws as they slowly retreated across the bridge.

“What…?” you asked in a sigh, crawling backwards through the snow, watching how suddenly the monsters seemed to fear you. Fear a villager? No, it couldn't be possible.

The beasts growled again, retreating faster, more frightened. At your side you saw a black shadow, one that passed by you without paying attention, that stood at the end of the bridge, looking at the lycans.

A black dress, a black veil, a stoic figure standing before you. It took your frightened head a while to understand, but not long enough to not be able to react.

There was only one person, one woman who could fit those characteristics. The lycans were not the most dangerous thing in that place. In front of you, with her back turned, was one of the Lords, the youngest, surely the most feared: the doll maker, Donna Beneviento.

The beasts retreated even further, fleeing in terror from that imposing presence. They feared her, those beasts feared her, and so did you.

Since it seemed that the lady in black had ignored your presence, you decided to take advantage of the opportunity to retrieve your backpack from the snow and back away slowly, without attracting attention.

“That's it, that's it! Get out of there, you rude mutts!” a shrill voice made you shrink in place, but you couldn't stop, you had to get out of there as soon as possible. “And don't come back! Donna, Donna, what are the lycans doing here?”

The lady simply shrugged, emitting what seemed like a sigh. Unintentionally, you had stopped in your attempt to run away and when you realized, it was too late.

“Hey, hey! You!” The lady turned to your position and that sinister puppet pointed at you effusively.

You shook your head, finally reacting, standing up and running away again clumsily.

“Hey! Where do you think you're going, stupid?” the doll shrieked while you looked at it terrified.

Fear made you do something stupid, made you look back, at that woman in black instead of at the path ahead of you. The worst mistake of your life.

Your body collided painfully with a tree, causing you to get seriously dizzy and fall to the ground.

“Ow…” you complained, looking at the cloudy sky, your head throbbing in pain and slow steps in the snow getting closer and closer.

That dark figure came closer, looking at you from above. She didn't say anything, she didn't do anything. She just watched you.

“Hey, stupid! Were you trying to go through the tree with that big head of yours?” the doll said, putting itself in your range of vision, harassing you with that sinister look.

You turned around scared, leaning your back against the tree, running as far away as possible from those two dark figures.

The doll, whose name was Angie, returned to the arms of its owner with a comical movement, looking at her curiously, and then at you, repeating that gesture several times.

“What are you doing in my territory?” the doll spoke again, but with a much deeper, much darker voice.

You were terrified, you couldn't move and the words didn't seem to want to come out of your mouth.

“What are you doing in my territory!?” the puppet shouted again, without losing that different darkness in its voice. It was the lady who spoke, you had no doubt.

“I... I...” you murmured, hurt and scared, raising your knees to your chest, like a protective shield that you knew didn't exist.

“Don't you know what happens to stupid little girls who dare to come here?” Angie said again, with that voice that wasn't Angie's, while the lady bent down to look at you more closely.

“Y-Yes I do, my lady,” you were able to say, looking away from that black veil, from that dark figure, the figure of death itself.

“Oh, so you know…” Angie murmured, as the woman stood up again. “Then you must be stupid.”

You shook your head, closing your eyes, awaiting a fate even worse than death.

“Do you know who I am?” she asked again, in a darker tone. “Answer!”

“Lady Beneviento,” you said in a small voice, lowering your head, burying it between your legs. “Please have mercy on me.”

“What are you doing here? Speak!” she shrieked, enraged by your lack of communication, one that it was due to the fear you felt.

“I didn't want to come here, my lady… I…” you sobbed, joining your hands to beg for forgiveness. “I, I, I was being chased by some lycans and I ran, I fell and… I didn't know I was in your territory, I swear.”

“Did you get lost?” she asked, in a confused tone. “Are you lost?”

“Y-yes…” you sighed. “I fell down a hill and ended up here… I didn't know where I was, I was just, I was just trying to escape and…”

“Why were the lycans chasing you?” she asked in a calmer tone, without letting the doll go from her arms.

“I-I don't know, my lady,” you said uncertainly, knowing that it was not possible to deceive her.

“Perché menti?” a different voice asked, hoarse, a whisper coming from that black veil. You opened your eyes and shook your head again, kneeling on the ground.

“I didn't understand you, my lady, but please. Don’t, don't kill me... Please...” you begged with a sob, clasping your hands tightly together.

“Mm,” the lady murmured, looking curiously at the doll. “What do you think, Angie?”

“That she's stupid!” the doll shrieked, this time, with her real voice. “She's lost because she's a fool.”

“Please...” you sobbed again, trying not to open your eyes.

“Get up,” the doll ordered you, again with that dark voice. “Get up!” she shrieked, when she saw that her words had no effect on you. “You're coming with me.”

Unwillingly, with your whole body shaking, you obeyed.

You followed the lady through the forest until you reached a small clearing, one where you were forced to go up in an elevator, in absolute silence. Once up there, the vision in front of you made you shudder. A beautiful waterfall gently ran down a cliff, guarding an old mansion, one you had seen before, the Beneviento House.

“Come in,” that dangerous woman whispered, not needing her doll to talk to you, pushing you roughly inside that dark house. “Come on, move,” she insisted, seeing how your body seemed to want to stick to the dusty wooden floor.

You were so scared that you didn’t even bother to scan the house with your gaze. You simply sat down on the indicated sofa while the lady did the same, in front of you.

“Now, silly girl, we’re going to have a conversation,” Angie explained, in that shrill tone. “My Donna is going to ask you some questions and you are going to answer them, is that clear?”

You shifted on the sofa, nodding cowardly, trying not to look up.

“And don't try to lie, stupid, stupid... We'll know,” the doll threatened, leaning on a small coffee table and pointing at you in an unpleasant manner.

“What will happen to me if I lie?” you asked nervously, looking for somewhere to hide, somewhere to escape.

Neither the lady nor the doll answered directly, but rather let the silence enhance the tension of that conversation.

“You don't want to know, fool,” Angie sang, getting down from the table when the lady gestured towards her, directing the doll to her lap.

You lowered your gaze again.

“First question: what were you doing in my territory?” the doll asked, with that strange distorted voice again.

You weren't sure whether to look at the doll, or on the contrary, look for the hidden eyes of Lady Beneviento. Either option seemed dangerous.

“I've already told you,” you said, knowing that at least in that, you could be honest. “I was being chased by lycans, I tripped over a cliff and fell.”

“Mm,” the murmur came from the black veil. “Why were the lycans chasing you?” she asked, again, through her doll.

“Because…” you stammered. That was a dangerous question, too dangerous. “Because…”

“Stop stammering and answer me,” the lady growled, in her own voice.

“It's okay,” you finally said. After all, there was nothing that could save you. “I tried to leave the village.”

“Leave the village? Perché?” the woman in black asked, not needing the doll. Maybe she was just as nervous as you, although it seemed unlikely.

“Per, Per…” you repeated confused, scratching the back of your neck. “Sorry?”

“Why, you fool? Oh, Donna, just kill her, she's even dumber than she seems,” the doll protested, moving from her lap and walking towards you.

“Because…” you said, letting your nerves go aside, preventing the lie from showing through your words. No, there was no need to lie anymore. You were in the house of death. “I had nothing left, my lady.”

“Explain yourself,” she murmured, crossing her arms, ignoring the tugs the doll was giving on her black dress.

“My, my parents died three years ago and…” you began to explain, somehow, a little more calmly. If you didn't lie, you would be safe. “They, they were devotees of the Black Gods, but they never listened to their prayers.”

“Continue,” Lady Beneviento insisted, with a clearer, more understandable tone.

“We lost our crops, the animals died of hunger, my mother got sick and... My, my father couldn't bear it,” you explained, feeling a shiver from those bad memories.

“But you're still here,” she corrected, with an impatient, melodic voice, just like those strange words.

You shook your head, sighing, looking at the grey sky through the window.

“A storm destroyed my house a week ago. I no longer have a family, a home, or anything,” you said sighing, remembering out loud your miseries, what led you to risk yourself, and escape.

The lady nodded with disinterest. At the moment, nothing you said seemed like a lie to her.

“Is that all?” she asked, after another tense moment of silence.

“Is that all? I think that's enough reason to want to get out of here,” you answered, annoyed by that insinuation.

“Enough reason to want to die?” she asked again, with a haughty tone, leaning slightly towards you.

“I don't want to die, my lady, I just want to get out of this place,” you said with a softer voice, repressing any impulse to scream, to protest at that apparent incomprehension.

“Let me tell you something, you unfortunate girl...” Beneviento murmured, getting up from the chair with that same dark elegance. “Getting out of here only means dying.”

“What else could I do?” you asked with a frown, with anger beginning to run through your veins.

“I don't know. Maybe instead of complaining, you could have looked for a solution,” the woman in black rebuked you, with that same hoarse, cocky tone, one typical of what she was, a Lord.

“A solution? Excuse me, my lady, but I think you haven’t understood my situation,” you said nervously.

“Mm, a girl like you…” she sighed, getting closer, with a slow step. “Do you know how to clean?”

“Yes,” you answered confused, blinking rapidly.

“Cook?”

“Yes, more or less,” you said with your voice getting weaker and weaker.

“Mm, then… Why don't you look for work instead of throwing yourself to your death? The castle always needs maids,” the lady asked, with a tone that seemed to hide some contempt for your sorrows.

“I don't like the castle, my lady,” you said, lowering your gaze, moving your legs nervously.

No, you didn't want to end up there, you didn't want to end up serving that lady in white, you didn't want your fate to be the same as your friends, some who, once they entered that place, would never return.

A sound like laughter escaped from the lady in black as she shook her head.

“Oh… But the castle sure likes you,” Angie commented, absent until that moment.

“Mm, okay, silly girl…” the woman in black sighed. “I'm tired of hearing you talk…”

“Can I go, my lady?” you asked, standing up hastily, not believing that you could get out of that place alive.

“Yes, go away, but I warn you…” she hissed. “If you try to escape from the village, you will die. So I recommend that you return to your ruined cabin. This time I won’t be there to protect you.”

Those last words entered your mind, unlocking a truth that you were not yet aware of.

You were about to die, those beasts had already caught you. They were ready to devour you. But they didn’t, Donna Beneviento appeared and the monsters fled. You thought she had barely noticed your presence, but you were wrong. Whether you wanted to or not, that woman had saved you from dying in a horrible way, she had saved your life.

“My lady,” you said thoughtfully, already walking towards the door, turning around slowly. “I haven’t thanked you.”

“Mm? Cosa?” she asked, crossing her arms again, moving a leg impatiently.

“Thank you, my lady,” you stammered, relaxing your expression. “You saved my life.”

A mocking laugh came from the doll, who tilted her head to mock you. The lady didn’t move, she simply nodded almost imperceptibly.

“Well, anyone can make a mistake,” she murmured, looking away. You couldn’t help but smile at those words. “Go away, you are disturbing me.”

You nodded, biting your lip and turning around again. The doll maker's words bounced around in your mind.

Yes, she was right, she didn’t have to lie to you, dissuade you from your attempt to escape. She only warned you of the danger you would have by doing so, why would she bother to warn you? What did Lady Beneviento care about the life of a stupid villager like you? Maybe it was not as terrible as everyone said.

Escape and die, stay and live. Two options that traveled dangerously through your mind. Staying could mean death too, dying of cold, of hunger… Escaping was just the prelude to a quick, but more painful death.

The trembling of your body and the inevitable death you would suffer with either of those two options forced your brain to work hard, looking for a third, one you didn’t think about too much.

“My lady,” you said, before crossing the door, with a frown. “I could stay with you.”

“What do you mean, silly?” Angie asked, with an exaggerated gasp of surprise. “Stay here?”

“Yes, I…” you said hastily, leaving your small backpack on the floor. “I could, I could be your maid.”

“Maid? I thought you said you didn't like being a maid,” the lady asked, with a curious tone, not too startled by your proposal. You didn't know if that was a good sign.

“No, I... I said I didn't like the castle,” you corrected with a nervous smile, you didn't know why.

“Do you like this house?” she asked, with a voice that betrayed distrust.

“I don't know, but... I think, I think it would be a better option than dying,” you sighed tiredly, making use of your last resource, your last desperate option. “You don't even have to pay me.”

“Don't you want money?” the lady asked, tilting her head curiously. “What kind of stupid maid are you?”

“I'm not a maid, I'm just a desperate girl who needs a place to live,” you said confidently, sounding as sad as possible, thinking that, if inside that dress there was something resembling a heart, maybe it would soften.

“A desperate girl,” Lady Beneviento repeated, darkening her posture. “Idiota.”

“There's no need to insult, my lady,” you said in a small voice, risking yourself again.

“Do you think your life is a disgrace, stupid?” she asked nervously, approaching you and grabbing the collar of your dress, making you gasp in fear. “Do you think you're the only one who has lost everything?” she rebuked you, with one hand tightly grabbing your clothes and the other traveling to her black veil, pushing it away with a brusque gesture. “Look at me... Look at me!”

“My, my lady,” you complained, finally discovering one of the biggest mysteries of the village, what was behind that black veil.

No matter how many times you looked at it, nowhere on that beautiful face could you see anything resembling a monster. Donna was a beautiful woman, really beautiful. You didn't even know why that was your first impression. You should be scared.

“I lost everything too, my family, my life! Don't think you're special, stupid girl…” the lady growled, letting you go in an unpleasant way. “Now get out of here, you don't want to work for a monster like me.”

“You're not a monster,” you said without thinking, letting your voice speak as it wanted, not how it should. “You, your face is fine, you have a very… beautiful eye…”

“Are you laughing at me?” she asked with a deranged look. You quickly shook your head.

“Um, Donna, Donna…” Angie interrupted, tugging hard at her dress, gesturing for Donna to pick her up from the floor. “Maybe it's not such a bad idea for this fool to work for us… Think about it, it's free…”

“Mm…” she murmured, fighting her own demons, some of which you had already heard about. “Va bene…”

“What?” you asked nervously, putting on your clothes, that were disheveled by her grip.

“What's your name?” she asked, breathing nervously, not bothering to cover her face again. You didn't know if it was because she was going to kill you, or because she liked your reaction. “Your name…” she hissed impatiently.

“(Y/N),” you said in a small voice.

She turned her gaze, nodding nervously, pointing at you with her finger.

“Fine, (Y/N) you will work for me. But don't expect me to thank you, I'm the one doing you a favor and I warn you,” she hissed, darkening that beautiful look. “Try to play me and you'll wish the lycans would devour you.”

You smiled in relief, nodding profusely. At least you wouldn't have to escape anymore. At least your life would start to make a little more sense.

At first it was difficult for you to adapt to this new life. Your dreams of going out into the outside world were still very present in your mind. Little by little, as time went by, they were only faint memories.

Living with Donna Beneviento was complicated, but bearable. You were able to see her delicate mental health, her crises, her anger without reason… Miraculously, you began to stop them and comfort that lady in black even though she didn't ask you to.

You were nothing but a maid, for you there were no more words than a thank you from time to time, or a whisper that you couldn't understand. Little by little, you also began to relax, to get used to that language that you didn't understand, to feel the presence of the lady in black as something comfortable and not threatening.

You would always be grateful to her, even though you were afraid to show it, to tell her. To her you were just a nuisance, but at least a useful one. Fortunately or unfortunately, the Angie doll fulfilled the social needs of a human being, giving you the opportunity to talk to her, even if it was just nonsense, or mockery of you.

Donna's mysterious gaze was always on you, you could feel it when she thought you weren't aware. She was always vigilant, always attentive to your movements. What at first you considered as a slight uncomfortable harassment soon became routine, soon your head turned towards her, outlining an increasingly sincere smile.

A smile that was not difficult for you to emit, the same smile you slept with every night, under the shelter of those rickety walls, under the shelter and protection of a Lord, one increasingly present in your thoughts, in your feelings.

“Excuse me, my lady,” you said entering the workshop with a hurry, carrying a tray with a steaming cup of tea. The lady didn’t turn around, she simply gestured for you to come closer. You weren’t expecting a greeting either… “Your tea.”

“Grazie, (Y/N),” the brunette murmured, seeming to be concentrating on two small garments, surely for one of her hundreds of dolls.

“Is everything okay, my lady?” you asked curiously, looking, as for some time now, for an excuse to stay by her side, even if it was only a few more minutes.

She just nodded, comically scratching her head. She seemed distracted, more thoughtful than usual.

“Go away, you're disturbing me,” she whispered, without looking at your face. You sighed in defeat and obeyed, turning around with a soft bow. “Wait, wait, come here.”

Her voice sounded hurried, nervous, while her hand again indicated you to come closer. You avoided smiling shamelessly, but obeyed elegantly.

“Can I help you with something, my lady?” you asked kindly, with a calm face, hiding the strong beating of my heart.

“Um, sì…” she murmured, getting up from the work table and abruptly grabbing a chair, placing it next to her. “Sit down.”

You nodded and did as she asked, intrigued.

“Tell me, (Y/N), what do you think it is?” she asked with a frown, extending what looked like a porcelain body towards you. You took it nervously, examining it in detail.

“A, a doll, my lady,” you said in a low voice, returning the object to her. She smiled mockingly, shaking her head.

“Una bambola… No, (Y/N),” she said, with a tired sigh, rubbing her eye and leaving that porcelain body standing on the table. “Dolls have clothes. Do you see any clothes?” she asked somewhat nervously, as if she was frustrated in some way.

You shrugged, trying to keep that kind smile.

“I'm sorry, my lady,” you apologized in a low tone. She suddenly looked at you and then looked at that lifeless doll.

“I always try to sew a suitable outfit for each of my little dolls, but with this one… With this one it's more difficult to choose,” she explained with a calm voice, looking at that doll from all possible angles. “I can't decide.”

“What are the options, my lady?” you asked, looking at a pile of fabrics that the lady had on the table.

“What you see,” she commented, crossing her arms. “Tell me what do you think.”

“Mm…” you murmured, taking each of the fabrics, looking at that empty doll to compare it with them. “I think gray would suit it well, my lady.”

“Gray…” she sighed, taking the fabric from your hands and comparing it to the doll's red lips. “Yes, it will do.”

“I hope I've helped you, my lady,” you said in a friendly manner. “Do you need anything else, my lady?”

“I'd like to ask you some personal questions, if you don't mind. I want to get to know you better,” she said, thus revealing the only reason for you to stay there.

You couldn't help but blush and bite your lip nervously as you nodded.

“Of course, my lady.”

“Do you like to read?” Donna asked, placing the fabric in the old sewing machine.

“Yes, my lady, I did,” you said, watching mesmerized as the lady sewed. Your heart was telling you strange things, too strange.

“It's funny, I haven't seen you pick up a single book in all the time you've been here. You can read the books you want, (Y/N),” she said, without taking her gaze off the cloth. “You don't have to ask for permission.”

“Oh, well, thanks, I… I didn't want to do anything without you… Well, nothing that could bother you…” you said nervously, moving your hands erratically.

“I don't mind if you read,” she whispered, barely paying attention to you. “I'd rather you do it than become one of those brainless maids at the castle.”

“Brainless?” you asked curiously, giving the woman in black the objects she pointed at with her gaze, without your presence being bothersome to her, something that made you smile more and more.

“Mm,” Donna nodded, cutting the cloth. “Unlike my sister, I value intelligence over pretty breasts.”

“Oh, um…” you said, laughing nervously. She looked at you with a serious face, as if she was surprised by your shock.

“Did I say something funny?” the lady asked, annoyed by your nervousness.

“Well, yes, my lady,” you said among laughs. She looked at you with her eyebrow raised, shaking her head.

“Although I don't know if you're really that intelligence... You wanted to get out of here...” she murmured cockily, with a haughty smile on her face.

“I had nothing to keep me here for,” you murmured a little more seriously.

She stopped, sighing.

“I feel you,” Donna whispered with a weak, different voice, as if her mood had suddenly changed, something that didn't surprise you. “I was also as stupid as you, you know?”

“My lady?”

“Before Mother Miranda adopted me, I thought the same as you, why stay in this horrible place? I had no family, no friends... I was completely alone,” she explained without you asking for explanations. You listened interested. “But I understood one thing, (Y/N), if you run away from your problems, they will follow you wherever you go.”

“That's very wise, my lady,” you commented, nodding slightly, agreeing with her.

“Donna,” she said in a brusque tone. “I can't stand you calling me that, I have a name, you know?”

“D-Donna, I'm sorry...” you apologized in a low voice, blushing. “I just mean to be polite.”

The lady stopped again in her work, looking at you with a sincere, almost embarrassing smile. That smile would give you a lot of trouble tonight.

“You were right, gray is the right color, (Y/N), maybe I need your good taste more often.”

“Oh, of course my la, Donna, you can count on me,” you said with an elated tone, one that you tried to calm down.

“I have to admit that it was not a bad idea to you to be my maid,” she commented with a lower tone, looking away from you strangely. “I don’t regret it.”

“Thank you,” you sighed, resting your elbow on the table.

“What about you, (Y/N)? Do you regret being with me?” she asked with a different tone, a more somber, looking at you out of the corner of her eye.

“No, of course I don’t, Donna.”

“Mm,” she murmured, sighing and returning to that gray dress that was slowly taking shape. “You can go.”

Before leaving the workshop, you turned your gaze towards the lady in black, who did the same, with a serious expression, looking at you briefly without saying anything before turning her head again.

A strange sigh came from your lips. Your legs trembled as you exited the elevator. You couldn't, you didn't want to feel those things, you wouldn't allow your heart to be wrong for the joy of having a place to live to mixed with those feelings that you shouldn't feel.

“Hey, maid!” Angie shouted, startling you as always, interrupting the rambling of your mind, of your feelings. “Come here!”

“What do you want, Angie?” you asked in a more casual tone, one that you knew the doll tolerated, maybe too much.

“I'm bored,” the puppet complained. “Come, play with me.”

“Play? Angie… It's five in the afternoon, I'd like to rest before making dinner,” you said in a tired tone, but walking inevitably towards the doll.

“Evil, boring maid!” she protested in her shrill voice. At least those shrieks blurred the thoughts about the lady in black.

“Oh… Okay…” you sighed defeated, putting a hand on your forehead. “We'll play, but just for a while, okay?”

A while, how naive.

Time passed while the doll and you played cards. It hurt you to admit it, but spending time with the doll was quite entertaining, even if she always, always cheated.

“21, I won again,” the satisfied doll said, taking all the buttons you used as currency.

“You're so lucky,” you commented amused, shuffling the cards again.

“I'm the luck,” the doll joked. “Hey, you're very funny, maid.”

“Oh, really? Is it funny to see me lose?” you asked ironically, shaking your head.

“Oh, yes, very much so, but… I'm actually serious,” Angie commented, dealing the cards with a comical gesture. You raised your eyebrows with a curious smile. “My Donna and I used to play… But lately she's being a boring fool.”

“Donna has a lot of things to do,” you commented, coming to the brunette's defense.

“Nonsense, she's boring, she never wants to play cards. She's always with those stupid dolls that are much less cool than me,” she said amused.

You couldn't help but laugh at those comments, but your laughter died down as soon as you looked up.

“She’s always: leave me alone, Angie, I don't want to play, Angie, I'm a boring fool who only wants to be with her dolls and…” the doll continued mockingly while you, amused, gestured with your head towards the lady in black, who listened to the doll's complaints in silence.

“Boring, huh?” the lady in black murmured, crossing her arms and causing an amused gesture from the doll.

“Oh, Donna, I hadn't seen you,” the puppet said, fleeing subtly. “I was talking about… Another Donna, an uglier and dumber Donna, not about you…”

“Donna, I…” you said getting up from the floor and shaking off your dress. “I'm sorry, I forgot dinner time and I...”

“No, stay,” she said, stopping you with an arm on your wrist. “I think you should know something,” she commented in an unsettling tone, bending down to the white veil of her doll and taking out a card from it.

“Hey!” Angie protested when her owner revealed her cheat.

“Hey, what a cheater,” you joked, frowning, but not really upset.

“If you're going to cheat, at least try not to do the same thing,” the lady in black commented, sighing and handing you that card. “Besides, who are you calling boring?”

“You, silly Donna,” Angie whispered, in a threatening tone.

The lady laughed unexpectedly, shaking her head and getting down on the floor, gesturing for you to sit next to her.

“Silly? We'll see about that... (Y/N), give me cards too,” she said amused, thus starting a different time, completely different.

“Good, good! Donna plays too!” the doll celebrated.

After that fun afternoon of games, things in the mansion changed completely. They weren't just whispers, just words of gratitude. Questions began to come out of her lips, doubts about your tastes, your concerns. Lady Beneviento had changed, and you didn't know why.

Talking to her was easier for you, just as it was easier for her to talk to you. It was an unexpected connection, two souls that seemed predestined to meet each other. Considering her a friend was too bold, but the feelings in your heart were worse.

It could be her beauty, her voice, her lavender scent, her smile… It could be many things, but what was certain was that you were attracted to her, a lot. At first it just seemed like a silly thing, a feeling of gratitude to the brunette. But, after months, after a long time exchanging smiles, thoughts, interesting conversations, you realized that it wasn't like that.

You were in love with her, hopelessly in love.

You thought about her all the time, even doing the most boring tasks. The smile that formed on your face when you imagined her beauty, her words, accompanied you day after day, even in something as boring as sweeping the old porch.

“Mmmm…” you hummed while you cleaned, with those thoughts always sailing through your head. The impossibility of the reciprocity of her feelings was still far from your mind, too far to start breaking your heart.

“Shhh. The maid's going to hear you…” a voice interrupted your delirium, a voice that seemed to come from the old path to the mansion and that you didn’t recognize.

You frowned to try to discover its origin but, after failing, you continued with your tasks. That place was certainly perfect for you to confuse sounds with sinister voices.

“Hey, you!” Angie's shrill voice interrupted that sinister calm.

The lady in black, covered with her black veil, holding the puppet in her arms, left the house in a hurry, walking away from you, as if she had seen something dangerous.

“Donna?” you asked without being heard, seeing, to your surprise, two boys coming out behind some bushes.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry!” one of them said, backing away as the lady approached.

“We just had to come here due to a stupid bet!” the other said, walking backwards.

“Get out of my property!” Angie shrieked, in that dark voice. “Porca puttana! Get out, get out!”

“Yes, yes we're leaving now,” one of the boys muttered, running towards the elevator, terrified.

“I'm sorry, my lady!” the other yelled, disappearing into the darkness.

You watched in astonishment at that scene, how the lady in black growled furiously, approaching where you were again.

“You, haven't you noticed that they were watching you?” Donna told you, freeing herself from the veil with a furious gasp.

You opened your eyes wide and shook your head, confused.

“Um, no, I... I was just, I was just... Sweeping,” you commented, nervous due to Donna's abrupt attitude, one that had become more frequent for some time now.

“Sweeping…” she muttered mockingly, breathing heavily and looking you up and down, suddenly grabbing your arm. “What is this? What are you wearing?”

“A, a dress…” you said, blinking nervously. “I asked the Duke for it the other day, don't you like it?”

“Mm yes, I like it…” she whispered, nodding, seemingly calmer. “Do you know who likes it too? That pair of vermin who ran away, (Y/N). They couldn't take their eyes off you.”

“Oh, really?” you asked amused, blushing at the idea of looking attractive to another person, something you weren't used to.

“Do you find it amusing?” Donna asked, with a stern tone again. “Cazzo, cover yourself up!”

“Should I cover myself up? I…” you said confused, looking at your cleavage. “Oh, well, it's a bit provocative, isn't it?”

“A bit?” the lady questioned with a frown and a dark look. “I don't tolerate anyone looking at you like that, understand? If you're going outside, cover yourself up.”

“Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know it bothered you,” you apologized, tying a button to be less… Provocative.

“It doesn't bother me as long as I can see you, understand? Only me,” she said nervously, playing with her hands.

“What do you mean?” you asked nervously at those words, ones she seemed to regret immediately.

“Ugh… Don't you have to sweep?”

You nodded with wide eyes.

“Then sweep, (Y/N),” she said, pulling you into the house. “But do it here, do you hear me? Where I can see you and…” she stammered, running away hastily, as if she had gotten into a mess of words. “Cazzo!”

“Well…” you sighed, scratching the back of your neck and looking at Angie. “What's wrong with her?”

“I don't know,” the puppet answered, leaving you with more questions than answers.

That attitude could seem like something isolated, but it wasn't. As time went by, those little meaningless outbursts began to be more frequent. It seemed like something in her head was telling her that she had to protect you, to keep you away from any danger, or at least that's how you saw it.

It seemed like a duality, an internal struggle with herself, a change of sad and dark looks, of smiles and threats that you couldn't understand, at least until that day.

The door rang, interrupting a quiet moment. Donna was reading and you next to her, in silence, exchanging the usual shy glances, ones that were always accompanied by a smile.

“I'm going,” you said, sighing, closing the book and walking towards the entrance. You weren't expecting the Duke, or anyone really, but still, you were the maid, although you seemed less and less like it.

“Hello... What do we have here?” a young woman, covered by a black cloak greeted you with a purr. You knew her, she was one of the three Dimitrescu sisters.

“Hello, Miss...”

“Daniela,” the girl said, interrupting your formal and elegant greeting. “Who are you?”

“Oh, I'm, (Y/N), Lady Beneviento's maid,” you explained with a fake smile.

You knew what they were capable of, but you didn't know she could leave the castle. Well, it was a nice day, the sun was shining, maybe that was why.

“Maid? Aunt Donna has a maid? What a surprise, she hadn't told us anything although... I understand why...” she whispered, looking you up and down uncomfortably, forcing you to step back.

“Well, here I am,” you said, faking another smile, without losing your composure. “Did you want something, Miss?”

“Oh, yes, I came because my mother had to pick something up...” the young vampire commented, entering the house as if it were hers. There, behind you, Donna was waiting for you, covered in her veil and in a nervous pose.

“Aunt Donna!” the girl exclaimed, putting her arm around the brunette, a gesture that Donna, of course, rejected. “Why didn't you tell me you had a maid?”

“It's none of your business, Daniela,” a nervous voice came out of the black veil as she pushed the fly girl away from her.

“Oh, please...” the young Dimitrescu joked.

“What do you want? I'm busy,” the lady in black asked, with an impatient tone. The girl smiled, winking at you.

“Of course you are...” Daniela mocked, circling you like a carrion bird. “I'm sure you're very busy...”

“What do you want?” Donna asked again, with a rougher tone, shaking every time the girl got too close to you.

“I've come for my mother's commission,” the vampire explained. “Although well... Surely if we put a bow on this beauty...”

“Don't touch her,” the lady said, roughly pushing the vampire, who laughed in amusement.

“Well, well... Calm down, Aunt Donna...” Daniela mocked. “Sharing is good manners...”

“Vaffanculo...” the brunette hissed, turning around to search for something in the drawers and hand it to the vampire roughly. “Your blanket, now get out.”

“Oh, why the rush? What's your name, sweetie?” Daniela asked, approaching you and putting her arms around your shoulders in the same way, with a sensual voice that made you shiver.

“(Y/N),” you said with a trembling voice. You could feel Donna's gaze staring into yours, and it wasn't a friendly one.

“(Y/N), how about we go for a walk? It's a beautiful day to enjoy good company...” the young Dimitrescu whispered.

You didn't even have time to answer.

Donna growled furiously, pushing the vampire out of the house.

“Hey, hey! Don't be selfish, Aunt Donna! Hey, at least let my mother…!” the girl protested, silenced by a loud slam of the door.

“Ugh, thanks, Donna, I was getting a bit nervous,” you sighed, with a relieved smile.

The lady in black turned around, furiously pushing the veil away from her face. There was anything but a smile in her face.

“Nervous, you say?” she asked in a dangerous whisper. “I didn't see you nervous.”

“Well, I…” you stammered. “I didn't really know how to act.”

“That's why you let that stupid girl touch you?” she asked, approaching you dangerously. She seemed out of her mind again, acting in a deranged way. “Hey, come here!” she shrieked, grabbing you by your dress when you decided that running away was the best solution to that strange behavior.

You, frightened by that look, tried to struggle with her, but you couldn't do it. With a growl, she pushed you against a wall, preventing you from running away.

“How long are you going to keep laughing at me?!” she asked, hitting the wall with a fist, making you shrink in fear, totally confused and scared.

“Donna… What are you talking about?” you asked with a trembling voice, with your eyes shining with terror.

“Don't play dumb… Cazzo… Are you interested in her?” she asked, pointing to the door. “Are you planning to flirt with all the girls and boys in this fucking village?”

“I don't know what you're talking about! I'm not interested in her, Donna,” you said in your defense, shaking your head. She laughed nervously, making the same gesture. “You're, you're very nervous… Calm down, please…”

“I don't want to!” she squealed, too close to you. “I've tried, I really have, (Y/N), but I can't, I can't stand it…”

“What are you talking about?” you asked in a small voice. “Donna, you're scaring me.”

“You’re scaring me, (Y/N)…” she hissed, with a dark look, putting a hand on your cheek, a shaky and warm hand. “Every night you appear in my dreams, I see you in the dark, in the light, even when you're not here… I see you…”

“Donna,” you sighed, seeing in those words something like a confession, one you didn't think possible.

“You… You're… You're mine… You're my maid… You can't leave me. I can't let anyone take you away from me…” Donna murmured, sobbing too, adding another hand to your face. “Don't you see how much I’m suffering for you?”

“Yours?” you asked confused.

“Yes… Mia!” she screamed furiously again. “No one has the right to touch you, not even look at you! You are mine, and only mine! I, I, I, I, I…”

“Donna…” you murmured again, ignoring the screams, keeping her words.

“I'm… I'm in love with you…” the doll maker finally confessed, making your eyes open in surprise and your words get stuck in your throat. “I don't care that you don't feel the same… You are mine and… No one… No one has the right to…”

Unable to do anything else, your body reacted in a desperate, risky way, bringing you closer to her lips, closing the distance with a messy kiss, one that would silence her complaints, her stupid paranoia.

Yes, you were hers, but for a long time, and you knew it, you wanted it.

“I'm yours…” you whispered on her lips, tasting the salty tear that ran down her cheek. Her breathing was still labored, but her screams stopped. “Donna, I'm in love with you too…”

“What?” she asked surprised, not being able to control the impulse to kiss you again, to pin you against the wall and run her hands through your hair. “But…”

“I don't want anyone else, I'm not interested in anyone else,” you said among increasingly wild kisses. “I love you, I love the wonderful woman who saved my life, your beautiful smile, you, Donna, only you, that wounded heart that reminds me so much of my own…”

“That… That's… Nice,” she said, with a calmer smile, with a subtle blush on her cheeks as she pushed the hair out of your face. “Do you feel that way about me?”

“Yes,” you said nodding, caressing the soft skin of her hands. “You don't have to be like that, darling... No one will take me away from you...”

“I'm like that because I love you, because I don't want to lose you,” Donna whispered, finally explaining that strange behavior, that latent possessiveness that was slowly becoming evident.

“You won't lose me, I promise,” you said lovingly, comforting the lady with your sincere words.

Donna smiled, but it only lasted a moment. Suddenly, her gaze darkened, pushing you back against the wall, filling your mouth with wild, out-of-control kisses. You couldn't do anything else but accept them, enjoy her lips on your skin, on your neck, feel her hot hands moving down your dress.

“It's not enough...” she whispered on your lips, her breathing as agitated as yours, running her nails down your legs, her gaze getting darker and darker, with a spark of lust shining in her eye. “You have to be mine, now…”

“Donna… What…?” you asked, when the onslaught of kisses resumed, when her body stuck to yours irremediably, when her hips began to dance with yours. You couldn’t complain, you didn’t want to.

The gasps came out of your mouth, your hands traveled over the black dress, caressing, scratching everything in your path. You couldn't and didn't want to refuse, not even when her slender fingers pulled at your underwear, when she lifted your leg and her gaze was locked on you again.

“I won't be able to bear you saying no to me, (Y/N),” the lady hissed in your ear, scratching your leg as she played with her dress, releasing her own arousal and rubbing it against your wet entrance, surprising you. “I disgust you…”

“No, no… I love the way you’re, I love your body…” you said immediately, starting to feel how her erection was getting closer to its destination as, in an improvised way, she entered you, stealing your innocence in an unexpected way. “Donna!”

“Taci…” she whispered, moving her hips abruptly, taking you wildly against the wall, without you being able or willing to do anything to stop it.

The pain only lasted an instant, the pleasure came soon after, a pleasure you had never dared to feel, the pleasure of seeing how your wet walls were conquered, how her shaft claimed you anxiously to the sound of hurried moans, just like her movements.

Clumsy kisses replaced the moans, those obscene sounds that echoed in the old hall. You were in paradise, right where you wanted, in her arms, with her inside of you, being part of her body, part of her, not wanting her to leave.

An unknown cramp tensed your body, forced you to scream, to hold on to the lady, to scratch her back, to lose control.

Well, it wasn't what you could define as something romantic but... When with an agonizing cry, her seed ran through your body, flooding it with a pleasurable heat, you didn't care at all.

“Mine… You are mine now…” Donna repeated over and over, pulling you down from the wall and kissing you erratically, pulling at your waist, at your shamefully wet body.

“Donna… I love you… I love you…”

#donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #re8 donna #re8 village #oneshot #requests

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