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sapphire-writes · 7 months

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Chapter 1: Welcome Home

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summary ~ Hired by the elusive Aemond Targaryen, you arrive at Harrenhal House to care for his niece and nephew. Things go bump in the night.

warnings below the cut for your convenience

warnings ~ spooky ghostly stuff, angst, mentions of death, loss of a child, blood, wound care

note: and so begins our spooky adventure! I hope you enjoy it!

banner made by the ever lovely @ewanmitchellcrumbs, ilysm ange!

Harrenhal stands on the edge of our world atop lush, green hills. The God’s Eye Lake is the biggest in the country, more like the sea than any landbound body of water you’d ever seen before.

As the Uber driver creeps along the bend of the God’s Eye, the old manor begins to come into view. A thick layer of fog seems to cling to the bricks; gray tendrils creeping onto the driveway and spilling onto the lawn.

“Are you a long way from home?” your driver asks, meeting your eyes in the rearview as he attempts to strike up polite conversation. You assume it’s because of the rather rough start you got off with him.

“Harrenhal House?” he had asked, face red, eyes wide, “That place is cursed.”

Not exactly the warm welcome you had wished for when you arrived in the Riverlands. Not exactly the impression Aemond Targaryen had given in his email when he offered you the job. The interview had been completed over the phone. His voice was cold, words clipped as though he wanted to find someone qualified and quickly to care for his niece and nephew.

The car pulls up to Harrenhal, tires crunching against the gravel of the driveway. The iron gates were open as you’d driven up, expecting your arrival. Hedges and statues covered with moss decorate the path toward the main house. The car slowly creeps closer. Your driver clutches the wheel as though the house means to swallow him whole.

Harrenahal stands out like a stain against the clear blue sky. It is an enormous manor, with shutters, and brick the color of pitch. The terrifying eyesore of the Riverlands. Crows have made their nests in several of the gables, their beady black eyes watching intently as the car comes to a halt.

A murder.

Of course, you’d done your research before accepting the position. Both on the home and on your host.

Harrenhal had a grizzly history. Your driver wasn’t wrong when he called it a cursed place. But the dead didn’t scare you. You had ghosts of your own.

Aemond Targaryen was a different story. Second son of Viserys Targaryen, whose recent passing was still hot news in the corporate world. Not that you paid close attention, but you’d heard there still had been no decision on the naming of the new CEO of Fire & Blood Co.

The death of the patriarch seemed to trigger a chain reaction of devastating events. If Harrenhal was cursed, so was the Targaryen family tree. Wherever the silver-haired blue bloods go, tragedy seems to follow.

The death of little Jaehaerys is the most tragic of all.

You’d yet to see a child-sized coffin and desperately hoped you never would.

They’d whisked Helaena Targaryen away from the boisterous streets of King’s Landing rather quickly after the funeral of her first son. After her accident.

You didn’t know what had happened, it was omitted from the press. Even the tabloids had only guesses. You doubt there are many limitations to actions caused by a mother’s grief.

Jaehaerys left two siblings behind; a twin sister and an infant brother still too young to toddle. Aemond Targaryen was hardly ready to be a father. You’d researched him as well and read about his ascent up the corporate ladder.

The boost of nepotism couldn’t have hurt, but from what you could tell, as you hunched over your laptop in the darkness of your hotel room, Aemond Targaryen had worked hard for his success. A tragic accident when he was a child left him blind in his left eye, leaving it cloudy and sightless, though nothing more was disclosed online about the incident.

There were other Targaryen siblings; an elder sister from a first marriage, a party boy, and another brother backpacking through the eastern continent. You flipped through countless articles and stalked the Instagram pages of the elusive family.

However, Aemond Targaryen did not have social media.

What he did have, was a marriage announcement, followed soon after by an obituary.

A handsome young widower. Not even thirty.

The deceased wife was much older. You’d browsed through Google images while slurping cold pad Thai, though there were hardly any pictures of them as a couple. Aemond seemed to avoid the press at every chance.

There weren’t many photos of him; just candid shots here and there—a dark suit, a flash of silver hair. You had shut your laptop after that, feeling suddenly self-conscious, as though Aemond would know you’d read about him the first time he laid eyes on you.

Your Uber driver helps deposit your bags onto the gravel, shutting the trunk with a grunt. He turns to you, eying the manor nervously, as though it's a living thing waiting to open its jaws and devour you.

“You be careful, love,” he tells you, nodding towards the house.

“I’m tougher than I look,” you assure, awarding him a wry smile.

The smile he offers in return is more of a grimace, and he is quick to return to the safety of his vehicle. You grab your carry-on and the handle of your suitcase, gazing up at the manor. A crow caws, alerting the others to your arrival.

A group of crows is called a murder.

You walk up to the doors, knocking once, twice. There is no answer. Turning the handle, you stepped into the grand foyer. A large staircase is the first thing you see, though you’re distracted by the man walking down the steps at a leisurely pace.

Aemond Targaryen is more intimidating than the candid photos you’d hungrily browsed. He’s tall, with broad shoulders and a slender waist. His long, silver hair is braided into a bun resting at the nape of his neck, a few tendrils ghosting around his face. Pouty lips, sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and a beautiful straight, pointed nose.

You’d always had a thing for noses.

Seven hells. Stop that. This guy is your boss, your employer.

His eyes. One blue, the other milky and lifeless. The gash of a faded scar running up the side of his face only served to make me more handsome.

He greets you with the title of Miss, the gentle timbre of his voice floating down to you. It’s so formal, as though you’ve walked through a portal into a Jane Austin novel. He doesn’t smile, just watches you, sizing you up.

Fucking hell, he’s even more handsome in person.

The man could be a model if business doesn’t work out for him.

You swallow the lump in your throat as you watch him descend the steps. With his hands in his pockets, and white button-down sleeves rolled to his elbows, he oozes an air of cold confidence as his eyes trace over you. He doesn’t offer a hand to shake, despite his formality. Even when he removes his hands from his pockets, letting one drag slowly down the railing.

“You didn’t arrive with any other baggage?” Aemond quips, the fingers of his left hand uncurling from a clenched fist.

You blink, before glancing at your suitcase, at the carry-on bag beside it, “No…?”

Aemond hums to himself, lips pressed firmly together. His face gives nothing away, an emotionless mask of disinterest.

“No estranged boyfriend who’ll be coming looking for you?” he asks pointedly.

Your cheeks warm at his statement. You should have guessed he’d be direct. He didn’t ask you in the interview about a partner; just made sure you were able to commit to the position for at least six months.

“No,” you tell him, “No boyfriend.”

His eyes, both the blue and the milky sightless, hold your gaze intently before he nods.

“Follow me then.”

Aemond gives you a tour of the house, showing you all the rooms you’ll have access to. Mysteries are hidden behind closed doors that Aemond doesn’t acknowledge, including a closed door decorated with paintings of vines and flowers. He omits the majority of the west wing of the house which includes the location of his study.

A man has his secrets, you suppose.

What he does show you is the kitchen, along with the nursery and the library. Despite the age of the house, the kitchen is large and modern, with cabinets painted a deep forest green beside stainless steel appliances. A gas stove houses a tea kettle, ready and waiting.

He shows you to your room last; on the eastern side of the house close to the nursery. You follow him down the hallway, the sound of your footsteps echoing in the silence. Aemond has not attempted small talk throughout the tour of the house.

Aemond has stayed silent unless he is informing where he is taking you next, his hands clasped behind his back. It almost looks uncomfortable, the way he holds himself upright, his spine straight as an arrow.

“Your sister lives here as well, right?” you ask absentmindedly looking at the tapestries that decorate the hall.

Aemond stops in front of a door, turning back to you. Those cold eyes stoke a fire within you, setting you ablaze with each glance. He is silent for a moment before he opens the door.

“This is your room,” he continues, ignoring your question, “There are extra sheets in the lower drawers, and on Sundays, the housekeeper comes to strip the beds and tend to the rest of the house.”

He opens the bottom drawers of the large oak dresser. A large mirror rests on top of it accompanied by a dark jewelry box. The dresser matches the rest of the furniture in the room; all dark stained wood as though each piece was dunked in ink. A large four-poster bed sits in the middle of the room, the green comforter is warm and inviting. You can see God’s Eye from the large arched window; the water sparkles with the afternoon light cascading across the surface like diamonds.

“I hope you’ll find it satisfactory,” Aemond says.

You turn to face him, standing in front of the window letting the warmth of the sun on your face.

“It’s more than satisfactory,” you tell him, “Straight out of a Shirley Jackson novel.”

Aemond shifts awkwardly from one foot to the other, seemingly perturbed by your praise. He purses his lips, glancing at the carpeted floor. You swear he’s smirking slightly.

“A backhanded compliment.”

“It’s not meant to be,” you assure him, your face warming with embarrassment.

“Yes well,” he says, clearing his throat, “Let's hope that’s how the buyers feel as well.”

“I didn’t realize you meant to sell,” you tell him.

“It’s ours for now, but I mean to relocate to Summerhal,” he comments, “This house isn’t held long.”

That’s all he says on the matter. You don’t ask him to elaborate. You doubt he would anyway, he seems keen to ignore your curiosity. Aemond leads you down the stairs once more and out through the kitchen onto a stone patio. The view of God’s Eye is spectacular, it’s close enough to stand at the edge if only you run down the hill.

A garden disrupts the spacious greenery and you walk beside Aemond, struggling to keep up with his long strides.

“She’s here, she’s here!” a small voice calls, followed by a young girl bursting through the doors and out onto the patio.

“Jaehaera!” a woman calls, chasing after the young girl.

She races down the steps to where you stand with Aemond in the gardens. Cheeks rosy, smiling brightly, Jaehaera Targareyn boldly walks up in front of you. Her blue eyes are wide and she holds out a fist full of daisies.

“I’ve picked these for you,” she declares and you kneel to meet her height, “Talya said I needed to wait.”

You take the flowers from her, pressing them against your nose and inhaling their sweet scent. You’ve always loved daisies.

“Which you did not,” Tayla says, catching her breath as she arrives, “I’m sorry sir she didn’t-”

“It’s fine,” Aemond quips, arms tucked behind his back, “They needed to meet anyway.”

“It’s nice to meet you Jaehaera. I love your dress,” you tell her, and she twirls letting her baby-blue skirt billow around her.

“You’re much prettier than Kepus told me,” Jaehaera says, eyes drinking in every inch of your face.

“I told you I hadn’t any idea what she looked like,” Aemond gently corrects.

You smile, chest feeling warm at her kindness. You tell her your name and her nose crinkles.

“I’m going to call you Miss Gevie,” Jaehaera declares softly, “Because of how perfectly lovely you are.”

“Someone’s been practicing their High Valyrian,” Aemond remarks, “Have you had your lessons today?”

Jaehaera sighs, a very small sound, “Kessa kepus.”

“Syz riña,” Aemond says, a small smile appearing on his face before glancing at you, “You’ll have to meet Maelor as well.”

“Though he’s rather boring,” Jaehaera interrupts, “He only sleeps. I told muña I wanted a sister. I already have a brother.”

Your stomach flips at her words and you glance at Aemond. His expression is stoic, though Talya pales beside him. She steps forward, kneeling next to Jaehaera, who is busy counting the petals of the daisies you now hold.

“Jaehaera,” she says, forcing a small smile.

“What?”

Tayla grimaces, placing a hand on her shoulder, “We’ve talked about-”

“I want to see muña,” Jaehaera interrupts, shaking off Talya’s comforting hand. She glances at Aemond for help, though he offers none.

“She’s resting now….”

“I want to see her!” Jaehaera insists, louder this time lower lip wobbling.

“Why don’t you say goodbye to Talya first,” Aemond says, “She’s been very kind accompanying you here.”

“You’re leaving?” you ask the woman.

“I’m needed elsewhere, this was a very temporary arrangement,” she tells you.

“She works for my mother,” Aemond clarifies, nostrils flaring slightly, “She was unable to make the journey here.”

You remember reading about Alicent Hightower. You don’t see any of his mother in Aemond’s features. Where Alicent is soft, Aemond is sharp; nose straight and long, chin prominent. The word lethal comes to mind.

Aemond has looks to kill.

You shake your head trying to clear your thoughts.

“Can I show you my room?” Jaehaera asks, smiling once more.

“I’d love that,” you tell her, letting her place her small hand in yours and lead you back towards the house.

You glance behind you, watching as Aemond and Talya converse before Harrenhal swallows you once more.

“Miss Gevie,” Jaehaera asks, tugging her comforter up to her chin, “Are you going to stay with us for a long time?”

You stop picking up some of her toys from the floor. You’d been playing with dolls since after dinner and had just settled down to read a story before bed. You smile, sitting on the edge of her bed.

“I am,” you tell her, “Your uncle is working very hard and needs a little extra help.”

Jaehaera nods, taking in the words you speak. Her blue eyes watch you carefully, seeming wiser than her years.

“I like you,” she says softly, “Kepus likes you too. I can tell. He just doesn’t say so.”

You smile at her. Aemond was clearly softer in the presence of Jaehaera. He’d been more pleasant at dinner than when you’d first arrived. Helaena was absent from supper.

“You’re not going to leave? No matter what?”

You stroke some hair from her face, “I am not going anywhere, any time soon.”

Jaehaera scoots down, laying back against her pillow. You stand, pulling the covers up when something catches your eye. You reach under her pillow, removing a doll that was hidden there.

“Who’s this?” you ask, staring at the doll.

It’s barely a doll, more a stick of melted charred plastic, warped from the heat. You can see remnants of legs and arms, the path a flame must have licked up through the plastic; the hair burnt to the scalp. The face is unrecognizable.

Jaehaera reaches up, closing her small fingers around it.

“He stays here,” she tells you, “He likes to stay inside his castle.”

Geez. Creepy or what? You force a smile, letting her take the weird Barbie.

“Okay,” you tell her, “Goodnight Jaehaera.”

“Goodnight Miss Gevie,” she sing-songs.

“You know, you can just call me by my name,” you remind her.

“I like Miss Gevie better, it suits you,” she insists, yawning.

You find yourself yawning as well, and head to bed. The manor is quiet as you make your way to your room, tucking in for the night.

Sleeping in a new place can cause strange dreams.

A bloodcurdling scream tears through the halls of the sleepy manor, its icy tendrils ripping you from your dreams and back into your bed. You awake with a gasp, sucking in air as though you’d been held underwater, just breaking through the surface. Hand clutching your throat you sit up, hair sticking to the back of your neck from the layer of sweat that covers your body.

The house is quiet once more.

Breathing heavily you sit up in bed for a moment, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart. You rise on shaky legs moving towards the door, and the ancient doorknob groans in protest as you turn it.

The hallway is dark, moonlight shining through the window at the end painting the floor with streaks of silver.

Maybe you were still dreaming.

But then, a low groan begins, the guttural sounds of a mourning mother’s wail. It washes over you like ice water and your stomach turns as the scream reaches its highest peak. Despite the alarm in your mind telling you to turn back into your room and hide under the covers, you race down the hallway towards the sound.

With each and every step toward the western wing, the screaming gets louder, broken up with deep sobs. You quicken your pace, bare feet padding against the carpet as you reach the source. The door you’d passed earlier, painted with flowers and twisting vines is open now, yellow light pouring into the hall from the lamp.

Aemond holds a girl in his arms--not a girl but a small woman; she’s frail, elbows poking against flesh like a starved baby bird, tears streaming down her ashy cheeks. Her silver hair is damp with perspiration, clinging to her face and neck as she clutches Aemond’s forearm. They’re in a heap together on the floor, Aemond’s arms tensed around her as he gently shushes her.

“Helaena…it's alright, it was just a dream,” he assures her, his voice softer and warmer than you’ve heard since meeting him.

He glances up at you, acknowledging your presence but saying nothing; his entire attention is on his sister.

“It’s never just a dream,” Helaena wails, nails digging into Aemond’s forearm, “Or maybe it is, maybe I’m asleep even now.”

A chill runs down your spine at Helaena’s words.

“Maybe I’ve been sleeping all along,” she continues, eyes glassy and her voice hoarse, “I could feel him, Aemond, it was so real.”

“I know,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss into her hair.

“I could feel him…in my arms….against my breast like when he was a baby…feeding, it was so real,” she says, her voice dropping into a whisper.

Helaena’s lips trembled, parted in a silent sob. The hand that does not anchor her to Aemond rests atop her breast, as though she can feel Jaehaerys against her chest even now.

“It’s alright dōna mandia,” Aemond murmurs, still stroking her hair. He rocks back and forth, starting a gentle pace to soothe her, “Go to the kitchen.” His voice is directed at you this time, your eyes meeting his. The tone he uses is still soft, and when you don’t move, he gestures toward the hall with a nod of his head.

“Do you hear him?” Helaena continues, “Running down the hall? Jaehaerys! Māzigon kesīr dōna valonqar!” (Come here, sweet boy).

“There’s no one there, Helaena,” Aemond soothes.

“I hear him,” she sobs, turning her face into Aemond’s chest, “Why can’t you hear him?”

Helaena’s sobs and questions are still ringing through your head as you leave the room, heading downstairs.

You make your way to the kitchen, standing in the dark, shocked for a moment before turning on the light. Helaena’s cries and pleas still echo in your mind as you fill the kettle left on the stove and turn on the gas burner. Searching through cabinets you find an array of handmade mugs, choosing a purple one with a twisted handle.

You rummage through some more drawers until you find some herbal tea, setting it beside the stove as you wait for the water to boil. You tap your fingers against the counter, a nervousness curling in your belly as you gaze out the window that leads to the backyard. You had known Helaena wasn’t well, but you didn’t realize just how serious it was.

You inhale a deep breath trying to steady yourself. It’s shaken you up quite a bit, hearing her agonized screams. Your hands tremble and you press your palms flat against the counter. A door slams from somewhere upstairs and you glance at the ceiling.

You look out the window once more, peering into the darkness. The God's Eye is just a still pool reflecting the light of the moon. A shadow moves behind you, reflecting in the glass and you gasp turning around.

“Seven hells!” you curse as Aemond walks into the kitchen, “You scared me.”

He doesn’t say anything, he just watches you for a moment, chest rising and falling with his breath. He must have also been asleep when Helaena’s terrors began as he’s clad in a black t-shirt and gray sweatpants, silver hair loosely braided down his back.

Ruby-red beads of blood blossom from the crescent-shaped marks on Aemond’s left forearm. You watch them swell into ruby marbles against his porcelain flesh before he grabs a rag on the counter, covering them.

“Are you alright?” you ask, as Aemond sits in a chair.

It’s almost like he doesn’t realize you’re talking to him; he takes a moment to process before he nods. You watch him as he stares at the table, tension rolling off his shoulders. The kettle begins to whistle and you quickly remove it from the stovetop, turning off the flames.

You pour your own mug before moving to the cabinet where you’d found it, retrieving a second. This one is green with gray streaks. Another handmade treasure, you’re sure.

You make Aemond a cup of tea, placing it in front of him before taking the seat next to him. His eye flickers toward the steaming cup. Though he hesitates for a moment, he wraps his long fingers against it, pulling it closer.

“It’s hot,” you tell him, as he lifts it to his lips.

“I don’t mind,” he murmurs. You’d likely burn your lip if you didn’t wait a few minutes. Aemond sighs contentedly, violet eye meeting yours.

“Thank you,” he says softly, “I should have told you…”

“It’s alright,” you assure him, “I figured she was grieving. You’d mentioned she’d been unwell.”

“The doctors say it's night terrors,” Aemond comments, taking another sip, “Due to the trauma she’s experienced.”

“That makes sense.”

“I’m meant to speak with her psychiatrist later this week,” he says, “She’s begun a new medication to help her sleep. I don’t think it’s been doing her any good.”

“Sometimes those things take time,” you tell him, trying to ease some of his distress. He merely hums in response, as though he’s heard it all before. You glance at the rag on his forearm, biting on your lower lip before deciding to speak again. “Do you have a first aid kit?”

Aemond nods, bringing a hand to his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose, and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Above the fridge,” he murmurs, not looking up.

Rising from your seat, you retrieve the small kit, and place it on the table in front of you. You reach out toward him, tentatively moving the rag from his forearm, revealing the crescent-shaped marks. They’ve begun to clot, and you fold the rag into a small square, placing it on the table beside you. You dig for a few bandaids settling for the smallest ones.

“She had nowhere else to go,” Aemond says, more to himself than to you as you place the bandages on his arm, “Jaerhara, and Maelor they need to be with family. There’s no one else. Nowhere else.”

“They’re lucky to have you,” you tell him, pulling your hands away. You reach for your mug, placing your hands around it and letting the warmth seep into you.

Aemond hums, not answering, though he seems unconvinced by your statement.

“I mean it,” you tell him, “I can see how much you care about them. And your sister.”

Aemond meets your eye once more, his gaze softening.

“She is the best person,” he tells you, his voice even and calm, “The best mother….the best sister.”

There’s pain hidden behind the words that he speaks; you can hear it coating his voice.

“She’s just in one of her hard times,” he assures you, “She goes through phases. Not..not wanting to see Maelor…it comes and goes.”

You reach for his hand. In the heat of the moment, you’re not sure what else to do. There are no more words of comfort to offer him. Your hand fits in his perfectly, resting on top of the table. His palm is warm, the skin surprisingly calloused. Your lips part, a soft gasp slipping free at the feeling of his hand in yours.

Eyes wide, you smile softly at him before squeezing comfort into his hand. Aemond doesn’t squeeze back, but he doesn’t pull his hand away either. You sit like that for several minutes, neither of you moving.

“Your tea will get cold,” Aemond eventually murmurs, breaking the silence.

Your hand slips out of his grasp, the sudden emptiness making you shiver. Clutching the mug, you bring it to your lips, sipping carefully.

It’s already cold.

How long have you been sitting here?

Aemond is watching you still, as you lower the mug. He stands then, taking both mugs to the sink.

“It’s late,” he comments, “We should get some sleep.”

You nod, standing. Aemond pushes into your chair, walking beside you back upstairs. He turns toward the western wing.

“You’re not going to sleep?” you ask, unable to help yourself.

“I am,” Aemond says, turning slightly, “I prefer to stay in my study.”

“Oh,” you comment, “Well ... .goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he says before disappearing down the hallway.

You return to your room, lying underneath the covers trying to get warm when you come to a realization.

That was the first time Aemond had called you by your name.

note: let me know what you think! as always, comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated but never expected (though you will receive a forehead kiss from me if you do any of them)

if you would like to be tagged in this series, please let me know!

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#aemond x reader #modern!aemond #modern!aemond x reader #aemond targaryen fic #halloween fic #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #modern au #halloween au

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boozenboze · 1 year

Note

Hello! I'm unsure if requests are open, if not please do forgive me! I've never done this before- Do reject this if you desire! >.< I wanted to know if you can possibly do- Task 141 x Male! Ghostface Reader, where he's almost identical to the original GF but with a twist, very snarky with his funny remarks despite seemingly being cruel and cold. He's an actual sweetheart when he's comfy around them? Mysterious as they have never seen a photo or proper description of him, as it's either n/a or classified- You can base him off the Danny Johnson Ghostface

An idea for this could be that he's a target from Laswell after various high-status politics suddenly disappear and she orders them to detain him and perhaps even acquire him as a potential ally only for the boys to get to the location and see him absolutely wreaking havoc, almost like a saw movie with how gorey and aggressive he can be? Then he just turns around and just makes a nonchalant comment on how cute they are for being so late? He's partially playful and monotonous with his raspy voice which turns out not to be a device but his actual one- Doing small pranks on the boys as they chase him around the establishment, clearly having the time of his life? Then when they manage to corner him, he's just passive- and he somehow manages to slip away with the promise of 'playing' with them again.

Hyped up on Spooky boys and I love your writing style!!! This has also inspired me to make a Ghostface COD Oc- LEMME STOP LOL -GhostyFaceAnon 👻

Whats Your FavoriteScary Movie~?

Tf!141 x Ghostface!Male reader

Females, She/Her and She/They DNI

A good horror story is made from true events.Luckily thats how M/n’s stories went and thats what made them terrifying.All of his stories would make others uncomfortable,unsettled and to top it off it would captivate the eyes of others.Though there was one part of the story M/n enjoyed the most

The climax

“So your telling me that these politics just disappeared with no trace?”Price asked Laswell,peering over her shoulder.

“Yeah, theres only a little footage of each disappearance. I was editing it and I was able to catch something.”Laswell said as she slowed the video down and pausing it when the figure in black showed up.They were now able to see the Ghostface mask the person wore.

“What the hell?”Soap muttered out, trying to comprehend what he was looking at.The male was sneaking up on one of the many politics that had gone missing before striking a pole across the mans neck.The man fell too the ground and that was the last thing they saw before the footage cut out.

“Do you know who could be doing this.”Gaz asked as he eyed the file that Laswell had been holding.

“I’ve tried but.”Laswell placed the file on the table before opening it.“everything on his file is either scratched out or theres just nothing there.”Laswell said as Priced pulled the file towards him.The only information that was given was the mans code name.Ironically it was S.C.R.E.A.M in all caps.

“This guy is the new Ghostface now or what?”Ghost asked as Soap chuckled.

“Well looks like you two are made for one another, both of ya are Ghosts.”Soap joked as Ghost glared at him in response.Gaz looked at Laswell for a moment before speaking up.

“Where are they hiding these people exactly?”Gaz asked as Laswell showed them a picture of a building.It looked old but it was oddly clean despite the moss that was forming on the front of it.

“I had someone get this for me since all the disappearances happened around this area.Its a crowded area but it has a high rate for people going missing.”Laswell said as Price hummed in response.

The building had moss all over it, and the screams of people could be heard from inside.One had passed out from shock and the others were whimpering or trying to get out of the chair that they were tied to.The room was covered in blood, there were weapons all over the walls, it was just a mess.

“Y-you know we can get pass all of this-w-we won’t tell a soul if you let us go!”One of them yelled out, only to be met with cold metal hitting their throat.

“What makes you think I’d believe you?”A disorientated voice spoke out while running a knife across his neck.The man was shaking now as he felt the tip of the knife be pulled away by the perpetrator.The man in the mask sighed while stomping his feet on the ground like a toddler.

“I’m so bored~!Oh!I have an idea lets play a trivia game!”The male said in excitement as some began whimpering in their chairs, shaking uncontrollably.The masked man made his way to the wall and scanned all of the weapons then smiled once his mic came into view.

“I have a question, whats your favorite scary movie?”SCREAM asked as he put the mic in one of their faces.

“T-the Babadook.”The woman muttered as the male who questioned her grunted in disapproval.

“The Babadook, seriously?Honestly what are peoples taste in horror nowadays”SCREAM said as he moved on to another.

“What about you, whats your favorite scary movie?”The question moved to the man tied next to the woman.

“Holloween you bastard.”The man spat out but was met with a whack to the head.

“No profanity jackass, what about you good sir.Whats your favorite scary movie?”He asked once more with a monotone voice, now eying the man who was still passed out.

“Friday the 13.”He kept his answer short, afraid of what would happen if he said more.The male began to chuckle under his mask as he approached the male who was passed out, still tied to his chair.He lifted the man up and dragrd his chair beneath a dim light that was hanging from the ceiling.

“Time for a trivia~!Answer 3 questions, answer one wrong your little friend dies.”SCREAM said threatening the others with enthusiasm.The man was about to explain the rules until the passed out man woke up and began screaming.The e/c eyes behind the mask looked unamused at the mans cries.

“Please don’t do th-.”The woman was cut off.

“Catagorey:Holloween, who was the killer in the Holloween movie.Come on now one of you have to answer!”SCREAM taunted as the other man blurted out.

“Micheal Myers!It was Micheal you sick fucker!”The man yelled as SCREAM gave him a round of applause.

“Good job....question 2 different Category: Friday the 13th.Who was the original killer of Friday the 13th.”

“Jason Voorhees!”The woman cried out as SCREAM sighed in disappointment.

“Darn, I’m afraid your incorrect.”SCREAM said in faux remorse.The womans eyes widened.

“N-no that is correct I’ve watched that movie to many times to know-“

“If you did watch it as much as you claim you’d know that the original killer is Mrs.Voorhees.”He explained.“Jason didn’t arrive until the sequel.”He continued as the woman shook her head in disbelief.

“Ah...I’m sorry but, seems like your buddy has to go!”SCREAM turned off the light that was hanging over the politician, and the sound of something ripping open could be heard as well as well as a scream.The light was turned back on and Scream was no where to be seen, although the only thing there was the politician, stomach ripped open eith his intestines spilling over his lap.SCREAM moved the males chair away from the light before grabbing the woman who was tied up.She began screaming at him, telling him that “he didn’t have to do this”, he didn’t care it was his job anyway.

“Come on now, the games have to continue!”The disorientated voice said as a smile crept upon his features.

The taskforce made it to the building, weapons loaded and all.The fact that this was just one guy they were dealing with, and they needed all of them together to detain him.

“Just how dangerous is this guy?”Gaz asked himself aloud as Ghost glanced at him.He himself was wondering what they were dealing with.This man kidnapped 4 politicians on his own without being caught, and weeks after their disappearances they’ve just now have gotten a lead on where they were.They began to walk inside but were immediately stopped by the piercing screams that echoed throughout the building.

“Ah shit, I think we may be to late.”Soap said as they approached the room that the scream came from.Price eyed them all as they all nodded in approval, ready to see what was going on behind the door.Price kicked the door down and held his gun up, but almost dropped it once he saw the gorey situation.The others came into the room and Gaz had to cover his noise, the metallic scent of blood and chemicals was prominent and would’ve given anyone a headache.All of the politics were dead, well, besides two.

SCREAM was sawing off the politicans legs off as the other one screamed at him through a gag.He was choking on his own blood due to being stabbed in the stomach multiple times, and was suffocating behind the gag.

SCREAM whipped his head around due too the click of a gun.

“Oh well you all came late how cute~.SCREAM said teasingly as he swiftly pulled out a gun and shot the man whose leg was being chopped off in the head. “Welp gotta go handsomes~!”He continued as he made his way past them all.

The politicians body slumped, already alerting them that he was dead.The team was stunned so the s/c skinned male made a run for it, and Ghost was the first one to snap out of the state of shock.

“He’s running down stairs!”Ghost yelled out as he ran after him.The male being chased slipped while running down the stairs and groaned when he hit the floor.

“Agh-Fucking SHIT!”The male yelled in pain as his ankle throbbed.He suspected he may have twisted his ankle but got up when the other male wearing a Ghost mask footsteps got louder.He stood up and limped away but his adrenaline was high so he started to run again but was immediately stopped by Price who turned the corner.Knowing that he couldn’t turn around he threw one of his knives at Price who dodges it, but it gave him a chance to run pass him,in which he did.He kept running but what do you know, Soap tackled him and they rolled across the concrete floor.M/n got up just as quick as Soap did.The Scot pointed a gun at the mask wearing male who crossed his arms.The others showed up shortly after finding their teammate.

“Hehe...hello?”The man said awkwardly as he backed away from the men who now had him cornered.His eyes scanned the area for an escape which none was there, besides the oh so conveniently placed window that had been opened for some odd reason.Ghost eyed the man up and down, taking note of the dark wear the male was wearing.His outfit had a lot of chains, some of them in which he tied the politicians with.

“Drop your weapons and come with us, don’t make things harder than what it is.”Price said calmly as SCREAM shifted in place.He had been inching closer the the open window and was stopped by Gaz who had noticed the males advances.

“Where are you trying to go hm?”The brown skinned male asked as SCREAM eyed him through his mask.Now that Gaz was upclose, he could see the soft e/c eyes that hidden behind the mask.His heart would’ve melted if he hadn’t known this was the guy that killed those politics.Important politics at that.

“Well I will go where I want if you’d get your pretty ass out my face.”SCREAM said jokingly as Gaz glared at him, blush beginning yo cover his cheeks at the word ‘pretty’.

“How about y’all let me go, and we go our separate ways eh?I mean we don’t want anyone getting hurt do we?”SCREAM asked threateningly as Ghost grunted.

“Can’t we just take him already.”Ghost asked gruffly as Soap looked up at him.

“If he co-operates this could be over with.”Soap said while looking back at the man in black.SCREAM eyed Gaz for a moment before pulling the males hat down to where he couldn’t see.

He then ran towards Price who was ready to pin him down but was startled when the male rolled between his separted legs and grabbing his hat.Once the hat was in his grasp he wrapped it around the man neck before running off.Soap and Ghost started running after him once more and SCREAM made the dumb decision to throw a bar of soap at Soap.The male groaned at the sudden pain on his forehead and stopped to rub his forehead that was now beginning to bruise.

Ghost was hot on SCREAMS tail as they were almost at the exit of the building.Ghost reached out to grab the males mask but stopped in his tracks when the male pulled a bookshelf down, blocking his way.

“Hey!”A monotone voice called out to the lieutenant who glared at him through his mask.He began to step over the bookshelf until the voice was heard again.

“Your shoes untied.”SCREAM said and Ghost looked down to see that his shoe was untied,but was quickly met with a kick to the balls.Out of pure reaction he retracted his movements to bend down and almost curl up.

“Sorry buddy.....I HOPE TO PLAY WITH YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS AGAIN SOON!”SCREAM yelled out as he left the building where the team was now left in bewilderment.The guy that had tortured and killed those politics thought this whole thing was some sort of game.Well luckily for him

THEY WERE GOING TO BE PLAYING ANOTHER TYPE OF GAME NEXT TIME😏

Pt.2

#male reader #cod x male reader #male y/n #mw2 x male reader #ghost x male reader #gaz x male reader #lgbtq #gay #captain price x male reader #soap x male reader

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bonefall · 3 months

Note

Could the cats make little toys? Like making plushies out of plants or figurines out of rocks and sap or something?

70% of the toys they make are weaved or whittled. I actually made a small scene in the outline (which HOPEFULLY, i keep saying this, should be out Soon TM) of Darkstar's Commandment where she creates a wicker ball as a gift for Reedshine

^^^ These are willow balls! If you have access to willow trees, you can make these really easily. For Clan cats, it's a sign that you're a really good weaver, and making these is a big favor because they're naturally quite brittle.

These are the basis of the famous "mossball." Pure moss doesn't keep its shape if you kick it around; a wicker skeleton is stuffed and covered with moss so it doesn't hurt if it bonks you in the face. Usually, these are just kept in a pile somewhere any anyone can go grab and use one for games.

You can customize a ball for a specific person by sourcing some leather or linen, and then sewing it around the skeleton. WindClan has the market cornered on this sort of thing because of how many rabbits they hunt, but for RiverClan, SkyClan, and ShadowClan, pelts and flax are pretty valuable and not typically wasted on crafting good mossballs.

(SkyClan in particular is more likely to just trade kittypets for their excess toys.)

Even the best Clan cat artisans only whittle the sorts of figurines we might associate with small children. They're sharp-edged, simple, and look a lot like these;

They don't have "polish" figured out yet, so nothing they make looks "smooth." Some cat's going to figure out that they can rub the edges against the nearby exposed sandstone, but I'd leave that for a bit of a "genius" like Dustpelt or his mentor One-Eye to figure out.

They can also be made out of clay, but that's more common in RiverClan and WindClan where wood is scarce.

Figurines are often directly commissioned by deputies and senior warriors for use in strategizing, ESPECIALLY in WindClan where they have a history of needing to "visualize" the various parts of their open moor in battle plans. They can be simple toys, but these can get pretty elaborate as it's seen as a bit of a status symbol if the deputy's "pawn" of you is fancy.

Basically, it means you're important enough to be frequently included in battle plans, so much that YOUR pawn is customized. These will often be buried with the warrior, or passed down to their living descendants.

Figurines show up a lot in "channeling." The illegal, direct method of summoning the dead by bypassing StarClan. They aren't "consumed" by the ritual like more organic tokens, so someone who does a ton of channeling of a specific spirit will often end up crafting one of these.

There's various other toys too, but they're generally not soft or stuffed. Clan cats don't have "plushies," since they require a LOT of textiles and sewing which they can't experiment freely with.

And to close out;

Glue is made from animal hide, and is another one of those "high-quality" materials mostly used by artisans and patrol heads.

Making pitch from pine is dangerous; go here for a tutorial on that

Sap's not a great adhesive, but works fine for kittens just having fun.

Whittling, weaving, and molding are the skills usually used to make toys.

Yes, they make toys, and they love to play with them.

Most "crafts" Clan cats make are communally owned, personal belongings are usually very special.

#Did you know I have 1700 asks #I'm trying to answer some old ones :SPARKLE:#clan culture #Better bones au #Toys #Clan Crafts

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curiousquirks · 5 months

Text

Day 9 | Endeavor x F!Reader (18+)

Mirrors | Prostitution

Content Warnings: Prostitution, Love Hotels, AFAB Reader, Female Dialogue Used, Oral (Male Receiving), Hand Jobs, Dom!Reader, Submissive Enji, Dirty Talk, Degradation

Word Count: 2,175

Summary:

Something about you, specifically, made things much easier for him. You listened well, you behaved well, and he knew you took him well. You couldn’t complain either, especially with how much Mr. Number 1 was paying you. The longer it went on, the more interesting it had gotten. He started giving you gifts, pieces he wanted you to wear and put on before he showed up. Then he started asking for photos of you wearing it when you two weren’t meeting up. You’d take mirror selfies for him, sending them away with erotic promises. You quickly became his favorite.

Love hotels weren’t exactly Enji’s favorite, they just made it easier. It was more practical. Plus Pro-Heroes and celebrities knew all the more exclusive ones that hide the patrons identity thoroughly. He had enough heat and pressure on him as it was, this didn’t need to add to the list. Scheduling sex was a different level of humiliation but he had found rhythm in it. Having clear specifications that the women were to follow made it easy. He didn’t have the time to waste.

You were wearing one now, a little detail he had wanted prior to your meeting today. It was a forest green velvet slip dress, lovingly requested to be worn with nothing beneath it. You checked yourself in the mirror in the bathroom when you heard the door to the room open. You quickly made your way out the bathroom, swallowing a laugh as you looked at the confused look on his face. He closed the door behind him as he glanced around the room taking in the confusing decor.

“The more toned down rooms were already booked. Probably some event or meeting nearby for you guys.” You said, gesturing towards him to signal that you meant Pro-Heroes.

He just looked annoyed now, his eyes lingering on the statue of a unicorn in the corner of the room. The room was decorated to look like a moonlight grove, complete with overgrown grass and fake tree decals on the wall. The only thing that didn’t fit in the room’s decor, except the vines draped over it, was a large mirror propped up facing the bed. Bed was subjective, it was an elevated cushion covered in fake moss.

“I’m going to start booking a normal place if this keeps up.” He complained, starting to remove his shirt.

“I think it’s cute,” You said, twirling around the room before plopping yourself down the bed. “Besides, I match the colors. I think you’re just trying to cover up that you actually picked this room because you’re embarrassed.”

He grunted in response, tossing his shirt to the side. Any complaints he was going to voice were left unsaid as his eyes raked over your body. The twinkling fairy lights give your body a beautiful glow as the dress clung to you in all the right ways. You let your hand drop lower and trace along your skin as you slowly moved your leg to the side, nearly exposing yourself to him. You let your hand trace up your body until it reaches the strap to your dress.

Enji puts a hand up momentarily causing you to pause in your movement. “Don’t remove it, I want you to wear it.” He instructed, as he moved down to unbuckle his belt. His cock was already hard and painfully constricted.

You bit your lip as you leaned back on your hands, watching him intently as he removed the rest of his clothing. There was nothing small about him and it had you soaked just thinking about getting to ride him. You wiggled in place, the uncomfortable wetness threatening to start dripping from your folds onto the bed beneath you. He wasted no time as he made his way towards the bed but you held your hand up.

“Ah, ah, ah, hang on a second.” You interrupted, causing him to stop in his tracks. “Don’t rush into anything before we settle the payment.”

“I already sent it before I came into the room.” He informed you, as he continued moving towards you.

He bent down, hovering above you. Just as he was about to put his arm on the bed next to you and lay you down, you slipped out from underneath his arm as you quickly moved yourself onto the other side of the room. You grabbed your phone, swiping a few times as you scanned through and checked to test the integrity of his words. He sighed and sat himself on the bed, glancing over and noticing the mirror positioned near him.

Your eyes widened when you saw that he gave you significantly more than you two talked about. You stared at your phone for a moment, blinking in surprise. You slowly put your phone down and turned on your heels. The surprise quickly wiped from your expression so he couldn’t see it. You sauntered your way over to him, placing both of your hands on his legs as you crouched right in front of him. You looked up at him, his irritation and annoyance plain on his face.

“I had to make sure, this is a business exchange after all.” You teased, leaning forward to place a kiss onto the tip of his throbbing cock. “I see you gave me some extra.”

“I pay based on quality.” He replied simply.

He gave a groan as your lips wrapped around him, taking in as much of him as you could. You gagged slightly just from the sheer mass of his cock, giving a moan as you heard him whisper praise above you. Your hand wrapped around the bottom of his cock to stroke as you bobbed your head.

“Fuck…” He groaned, letting his eyes fall close as he drank in the pleasure.

You pulled off of him with an audible pop, swiping your tongue over his tip. You grinned as you felt him twitch, still giving him a steady rhythm with your hand stroking his cock. You looked up at him, noting his eyes being closed.

“Since you were so generous with your payment,” You began as you let him go before you stood up, moving yourself to straddle his lap. “Why don’t we use this mirror? I moved it towards the bed.” You explained, turning your head to gesture towards it. His hands immediately found your hips, his cock pressing into your stomach as you leaned forward. Your breasts pressed into his chest, his hands sliding down to grab onto your ass. “I think it’ll be fun.”

“How so?” He asked, his skin felt incredibly warm even through the thin fabric of your dress.

“I’ll show you but you have to let me go first.” You joked, turning your head back towards him. You placed your hands onto his shoulders as you let your lips linger inches from his.

His eyes fell to your lips, staring for too long. You felt his cock twitch against you again before his hands let go of you finally. You brought your hands up to cup his face as you pressed a quick chaste kiss to his lips. “Good boy.” You praised as you got off of his lap in one swift motion.

He swallowed hard at the comment but before he got too lost in his own head you had tapped your foot against his leg to signal him to scoot over. He was now perfectly positioned in front of the mirror. You moved yourself to hover over his lap backwards, facing the mirror against the wall in front of you. You locked eyes with him in the mirror as you brought two of your fingers to your mouth. You sucked on them, coating them in your saliva before bringing them down to rub against your folds.

You moaned and used your other hand to hike up the fabric up of your dress. You could feel his impatience. Moving your foot to rest onto his leg, allowing you to spread your legs wide, allowing your aching pussy to be on display for him. His eyes left yours as you watched his hands reach up and rest on your waist, keeping you steady. You bit your bottom lip, watching as his eyes intently watched your fingers swirl around your clit.

“Like what you see, big guy?” You teased, which caused his eyes to peel away from between your legs to meet your gaze again. “Don’t tell me you’ve gone quiet now.”

“You’re killing me,” He said, after a long pause. “Every time you force me to wait instead of doing what I actually want to do.”

“That’s what you pay me for though isn’t it?” You reminded him. You let your leg drop off of his, his hands falling from your waist as you stood straight. “You want a woman in control of you. To tease you and set the pace of things.”

He let his head hang low, dropping his eyes to the ground. You moved yourself swiftly onto the bed behind him, pressing yourself against his back. You rested your chin onto his shoulder, looking at him in the mirror. His cock stood proud, pre-cum glistening at the tip, with balls that looked ready to burst. You almost pitied him. You clicked your tongue and moved your mouth next to his ear, your hot breath causing a shiver to run down his spine.

“Look up.” You commanded, and he did. His eyes met yours, wanting desire written plainly across his face. “Do you want to come?”

Your question caused his cock to twitch, he didn’t know how much longer he could take. He didn’t answer, just nodded his head. You lifted the hand you have been using to please yourself earlier and spat some saliva onto it. You reached around and wrapped that same hand around his cock, a shuttered gasp releasing from his lips. You began stroking his cock, in all the ways you’ve learned that caused him to lose himself. You grinned at him, your devilish mischief and skilled hand ripping a groan from deep within him.

His eyes nearly drifted closed when your voice caused them to pop back open. “Eyes on what I’m doing.” You commanded, the pressure you were focusing on his tip was causing his head to spin. He struggled to keep his eyes on your hand, focusing on the rhythmic stroking motion. His body heat was rising, causing a layer of sweat to form on your body. “Are you close? Do you want to come? I want to hear you ask me. Beg for release, beg for me to drain your cock. Letting your cum drip all over the floor instead of inside of my pussy.”

You heard him let out a muffled whimper as his hands gripped into the fabric beneath him, nearly burning through it. He grunted as you quickened your pace as his hips started thrusting up into your hand. “I bet you wish you could pump it deep instead of me. Slamming your hips against mine, your large frame dominating over me.” You practically moaned your words, watching his flushed face struggle to stay alert. “But it isn’t though is it? Your just sitting here fucking my hand because I’m in control. I tell you when to come, that’s why you haven’t. You’re struggling to hold on, aren’t you?”

“P-Please…” He whispered, panting as his muscles tensed up. Desperately holding onto any shred of his sanity.

“What was that, Enji?” You teased, malicious enjoyment lacing every syllable.

“Let me come.” He forced out in between grunts. “Fuck, please…I need it, I need it.”

You waited another few agonizing seconds before you finally whispered. “Then come.”

With the permission he needed, he thrusted up roughly as his orgasm released. His hot cum shot out, spurts after spurts coating the floor and your hand. You continued stroking him, milking his cock for all its worth as his hips finally stopped with a shuttered. He panted, heat waves coming off of his body as sweat collected across his skin. You backed away from him, giving some room so you could cool off. You laid yourself against the head of the bed, reaching your hand up towards your face.

He turned towards you in time to see your tongue dart out to lick the cum off of your hand. His eyes never left your mouth as you thoroughly cleaned every drop off of your skin. You made a show of sucking on your fingers too, watching as his cock started standing at attention quickly again.

“I love how quickly you spring back,” You said, spreading your legs. You moved the dress up, exposing your pussy to him again. Your hand dropped to run through your folds. “We’ve still got plenty of time left and don’t worry, I plan on letting that huge cock of yours completely destroy me. I need some more prep though, so come here and let me fuck your hand this time.” And without another word he came crawling towards you.

#endeavor x reader #enji todoroki x reader #bnha smut #kinktober 2023 #curiouskinks 2023 #bnha fanfiction #endeavor #enji todoroki

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vinnieswife · 11 months

Text

Forbidden love

Sukuna Ryomen x reader

words: 961

warnings: main characters death.

In the depths of a lush and enchanting forest, bathed in dappled sunlight, two figures moved silently among the ancient trees. You, a noble woman with flowing hair, and Sukuna, a rugged and mysterious criminal with a hidden gold heart, found solace in the solitude of the forest.

Your love, forbidden by the laws of class, had led you to this hidden refuge where you could exchange affection away from prying eyes. Hand in hand, you ventured deeper into the forest, your hearts filled with a mixture of fear and longing.

The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming wildflowers, and the melody of bird songs followed your every step. Beams of sunlight illuminated the path ahead, creating a whimsical atmosphere. As you walked, your whispered conversations floated softly on the breeze. "come on just say please and i'll give it to you" you said running with his necklace, he easily caught you "you know i never beg love", you laughed at his response giving the necklace back.

"Y/n, my love," Sukuna whispered, his voice filled with tender longing. "Though our love may be forbidden, my heart beats only for you. Every moment we spend together is worth the risk."

Your eyes shimmered with unshed tears as you tightly squeezed Sukuna's hand. "I too would defy the world for the sake of our love," you confessed. "But the consequences could be terrible, Sukuna. We must be cautious."

You reached a clearing where a small brook trickled through moss-covered stones. The sound of running water provided a soothing backdrop for your stolen moments. Sukuna released your hand and stepped closer, his gaze filled with an intensity that stirred his soul.

"My dear," he whispered, his voice husky with desire. "Let us forget the restrictions of the world, if only for a moment. Allow me to hold you and let us share a stolen kiss."

Your heart raced with anticipation and the allure of forbidden love. Sukuna closed the distance between you, your breath mingling as your lips finally met in a passionate embrace. Time stood still as your bodies intertwined, and the world faded away, leaving only the love that bound you together.

You pulled apart, your foreheads resting gently against each other's. Your eyes brimmed with tears, a mixture of joy and sadness. "This... feels like a dream," you confessed, your voice trembling.

Sukuna held you tightly in his arms, providing a sense of security amidst the uncertainty. "Even if it is just a dream, it is our dream," he whispered.

The air is charged with anticipation as the rustling of leaves and the song of birds become the backdrop of an unlikely encounter. Your hands are intertwined, souls entangled in a love that society deems unacceptable.

Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps grows louder, accompanied by the clinking of armor. Your eyes widen in fear as you watch the city guards approach, led by your stern and inflexible father. Panic tinges Sukuna's eyes, but they remain steadfast, refusing to let their love extinguish.

"Y/n! What does this mean? How can you be involved with this bastard?" your father says venomously.

You tremble, tears filling your eyes, as Sukuna takes a step forward, their voice firm but laden with regret.

"Sir, I know my past is stained, but I love your daughter with every fiber of my being. I have changed. Please." You can't believe what you're hearing. "Please," you've never heard that word come out of their mouth before.

Your father continues his speech. "A criminal? Do you think you can corrupt our daughter? Our family deserves better. You are betrothed to the prince."

The guards, fueled by your parents' anger, approach, surrounding you both with unwavering authority. Your heart beats forcefully in your chest. "I can't choose who I love. Marrying the prince will be torture. He is arrogant and narcissistic. Our social status may improve, but I will have a life of misery. I'd rather have a mediocre life with the one I love than live in a palace gilded with gold with someone I don't want."

Your father turns a deaf ear to your plea. "Seize him! He will pay for his crimes, and my daughter will learn her place."

As the guards advance to arrest Sukuna, you cling to him. Your hand finds his, and just a look is enough to know his next move. You both quickly start running, as fast as your legs allow, the guards closing in on you, with no escape.

Soldiers' shouts echo in the background, increasing your nervousness. Sukuna gently but firmly holds your face. "Listen to me. I don't care what may happen after this. I want you to know that I love you more than anything and anyone. I promise I will search for you in a thousand and one lives." Tears fall from your eyes, knowing that your love is coming to an end. The guards are behind you, all armed with bows and spears, as one of them draws the bowstring, aiming with ruthless intent. The arrow's hiss cuts through the air, and time seems to slow down as it hurtles towards its target.

Seeing the arrow being released, Sukuna turns his body completely in an attempt to protect you, but sadly, he couldn't. Looking down, you see the arrow piercing through Sukuna's chest and yours. Your gazes connect, knowing that this is the end. Time seems to freeze as your lips meet in a final kiss.

The ancient forest bears witness to your tragic fate, its towering trees mourning the loss of a love deemed forbidden. Your spirits will always be entwined, finding solace in the knowledge that your love, though extinguished in this world, will live on for eternity.

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kokusfluffyhair · 3 months

Text

I Will Never Let You Go

Shishio Tsukasa x gn!Reader | SFW

You were the first person Tsukasa chose to revive once he got access to the cave of nitric acid. He could remember clearly where you should have been when the green light coated the earth. You were supposed to meet him at a cafe down the street from the gym he used to train at. Somehow, like an invisible string was guiding him through the map of the overgrown forest, he found himself to you.

Not being aware yet of the fact that using the nitric acid on petrified people had a healing effect, Tsukasa, having already pulverised multiple statues that weren't to his liking, nearly broke into tears seeing that you were all in one piece. The worst that had happened was that your lower body was submerged in the ground and that you were covered with moss.

Tsukasa carefully dug you up, taking the most precise attention to make sure he didn't accidentally damage you, and then cleaned you up before pouring some of the nitric acid over you. When the stone burying your body cracked and tumbled apart from your bare skin, the first thing you saw was Tsukasa kneeling in front of you. You were not even able to speak his name before you were taken into his arms and embraced as tightly as he could without choking you, wrapping you in his cloak against his bare chest.

"Are you well?" he asked you.

"Yes." You didn't hesitate to lean forward and press your lips to his.

Tsukasa almost gasped as you kissed him, but he quickly fell comfortable and returned the gesture to you. He was an awkward kisser, inexperienced but passionate, and his plush lips held a tender softness you couldn't imagine receiving from anyone else.

He gave you his cloak until he could find more suitable clothing for you, protectively folding and tying it around your naked body as if to shield it from the eyes of any others. The two of your were completely alone. No one else was in sight, however for Tsukasa even the eyes of a stray monkey hanging from a tree was one pair too many to gaze upon what was his.

When Tsukasa brought you to the shelter he had stole from Senku, he explained the situation to you and told you about his plans. As all who were revived from the petrification, you were shocked to hear that you were over three thousand years in the future, living in this primitive, uninhabited (so you thought) world. To Tsukasa's relief, you agreed with his dreams. Having come from a poor family where it was difficult to make ends meet to pay rent and buy food, the thought of a world free from that was like a godsend.

And you knew, no matter what the state of the world, that Tsukasa would protect you. He gave you his word long before the green light froze you in place on your way to the cafe, and his promise still stood valid thousands of year later. He was your best friend and your dearest love, even though Tsukasa's shyness left the two of you not yet having become more intimate than hugs and the occasional kiss. But you felt that it was only a matter of time before your relationship would become even closer than it was before.

"Y/n," Tsukasa said that evening as you were watching the sunset together from a high cliff. "When I build my empire, you and I will rule together to bring mankind to a purer civilisation." Although his face remained stoic, there was a slight upwards twist at the corners of his mouth. "Everything we make together from now on will be a paradise world just for us." His eyes glistened softly with pride. "Will you embark on this journey with me?"

"Of course." The answer was simple and not a single fibre in your body questioned your decision.

Tsukasa seemed to know what your response would be, but he needed to hear it with his own ears. He turned to face you, took your hand into both of his, and gently raised it to his lips. Closing his eyes, he kissed the back of your hand and lowered his forehead to the same place he had touched with his lips.

"No matter what, it will always be you and me together," he said and rose his forehead. His long, thick eyelashes separated from each other as he calmly opened his eyes to look at you. "Even if we somehow live another thousand years, I will never have anyone but you stand by my side."

#dr stone #tsukasa #tsukasa shishio #tsukasa shishio x y/n #tsukasa shishio x you #tsukasa shishio x reader #dr stone x reader #dr stone x you #dr stone x y/n

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jurassic-park-inthe-world · 1 year

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Protect Me? (Zach Mitchell)

Summary: Zach Mitchell and the reader, Y/N, have been best friends since childhood. When Zach takes her to Jurassic World, it's a game of survival.

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The day he met her, he fell in love. That's how Zach says he and Y/N met, but when Y/N herself is around, he says they met in the seventh grade, when she moved to Michigan from Alaska. She was used to the cold, it didn't bother her, and neither did the kids whispering how weird she was for still being obsessed with dinosaurs. She got along great with Gray, because they both knew things about Sauropods and long-necks and T-Rexes and Triceratops and this and that kind of dinosaur.

Over time, Zach started falling for her. At the time, he was still with Ashley, his now-ex, and he hated thinking that he was leading her on, even though he thought--no, knew--that he had no chance with Y/N. So, as friends, he invited her along to Jurassic World, their aunt's dinosaur theme park.

Time Skip

Zach, Gray, and Y/N got off of the boat docked at Isla Nublar. The hills and mountains spread around them like a green maze, and the wooden dock was warm from the sun. Y/N grinned, taking it in. She loved nature, it was her happy place. She liked to often sit near rivers or streams and draw them in motion, or listen to the rain and sleep, even if she got cold and a little wet. "It's so pretty here," She said, and Zach grinned, shaking his head. "You and nature, I swear." She giggled, and Zach blushed.

"Who's that?" Gray asked, pointing at a woman with black hair and dark shades covering her eyes. She was dressed in a power suit, a pale gray color that covered a white shirt. She had pale gold shoes on. In her slim hands, she held a sign: ZACH AND GRAY MITCHELL, Y/N L/N. "Let's find out," Y/N said softly.

Time Skip

"What the hell just happened?" Y/N choked on water as she swam to shore. Zach and her pulled Gray onto the mud, and Zach said, "We were almost eaten." He blew water from his nose in a short huff, and Gray said, "That's why Aunt Claire wanted us to come back. We should've gone back." He whimpered, and Y/N gently helped him up, shaking water from her hair. "Well, let's just get back to the park, okay?"

They wandered around for a long time and found a set of doors covered in vines and moss. "The old park!" Y/N cried happily, running up the steps slick with moss. "Careful, careful." Zach scolded as she ran inside. It was a disaster, but it was beautiful, like an old castle left in ruins. She could see the beauty where everything must've been. "They built over it," Gray frowned, touching a wall with painted Velociraptors on it. "Makes sense, they didn't exactly tell anyone this happened." Zach muttered, picking up a banner. He turned to Gray. "Still got those matches?" Gray opened his "dork pouch" and took them out, handing them to Zach, who lit the banner like a torch. "Come on." He said, and they followed.

They had just entered the old Visitor's Center when a large, scaly foot slammed down and crushed a leaf-covered statue. "Run!" Zach yelled, and they bolted. Y/N tried keeping up but didn't see a large vine and root entangled together on the floor and tripped, flying forwards. "Ow!" She yelped, and the dinosaur, the one that tried to eat them on the waterfall, snarled and started leaning down. She froze, but knew that this thing didn't see like the T-Rex; it went off thermal radiation, not sight. Suddenly, the thing howled, and she saw Gray jamming a huge stick in the dinosaur's leg, making it scream and roar in pain. "Come on!" Zach was yanking her to her feet, and as they passed, they grabbed Gray. Making it into a garage, they saw a gasoline Jeep. Pausing, they waited to hear the dinosaur's loud steps. After a moment, they heard them, stomping away. "He's leaving," Gray whispered. Zach adn Y/N weren't listening. He was holding her close, breathing deeply to calm himself. "Are you okay?" He asked, face inches from hers. She nodded, breathless. "Yes." For a moment, they stared at each other. "Jesus, just kiss her." Gray snapped, moving to the Jeep.

Zach grinned, kissing Y/N, and she kissed back, feeling safe. "I...I love you," She whispered, and he blushed, a small smile on his face. "I love you more."

#jurassic world #jurassic park #zach mitchell #zach mitchell imagine #zach mitchell x reader #gray mitchell #dinosaurs #prehistoric #tyranosaurusrex #indominus rex #velociraptor #love #romance #fiction #fanfic

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bookworm551 · 1 year

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The Great War | Part 4 | Neteyam x Omatikaya!reader

Summary: You and Neteyam were childhood friends, always looking out for each other, but when the Sky People returned, neither of you could have anticipated the way it would affect your relationship with one another.

A/N: Sorry this took so long! I started a new job this week and didn’t have a lot of time to work on it. I have dragged you through three very long chapters of angst, so now you will be rewarded. I also drew a lot of reference from a deleted scene of the first movie for the trial, which is available on Youtube. Also, regarding a part 5, the people have spoken, and I have heard ;)

7.7k words

Warnings: mentions of death, some spiciness but nothing explicit

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

Under Mo'at's healing tutelage, Neteyam made a quick recovery. His stab had been straight and clean, allowing it to mostly heal within the next week. During the first couple of days of his recovery, you spent much of your time with him in the healing tent. Your relationship had undergone a lot of strain lately, and you were doing your best to help that heal as well.

Mo'at was not blind. She could see the care you had for her grandson as well as the dedication he had to you. Even though she never commented on it or asked questions, she was firmly convinced that there was only one reason why you two had not already become a mated pair.

"We must set a new date for your Uniltaron," she told you a few days after Neteyam's injury. You had been helping her change the bandage across his chest, and her words made your hands pause their work. "Really?" You asked hopefully. She grunted an affirmative. "You have healed well," she said flatly. "You are ready."

You were elated. You looked down at Neteyam's proud, smiling face. "You are ready," he repeated his grandmother's words confidently. You did your best to keep your cool in front of the Tsahik, but she could see the joy on your face as you continued to help her.

It had been nearly four weeks since your injury. You had been set to complete your trial just a few days after the attack on the base, but with your recovery, you weren't permitted to complete it. Physically, you had come of age, but you would never be viewed as an adult until you had completed the Dream Quest. Now, you would be able to achieve the status of a fully-fledged member of the Omatikaya.

Preparations were made for you three days later. The morning of your trial, you spent several hours meditating alone to clear your mind. The trial took place at high noon. You sat quietly with your father as he traced the white ceremonial body paint over you, singing your song cord over and over. Even though he had become more withdrawn since your mother's death, you knew how much he loved you and how proud he was of you.

When high noon approached, you were escorted to the sacred chamber of the Tsahik. It was a small, private room covered in bioluminescent lichen and moss. The sound of steady drumming echoed throughout the chamber from one of the elders present. Already inside were Jake and Mo'at. Along with a few elders, you also saw Neytiri next to Jake as well as your father's brother. They all sat gathered solemnly as you entered behind your father.

He turned and brought his head down to rest against your forehead affectionately before moving to sit next to his brother. The drumming continued steadily as you knelt in front of the small gathering of people. You maintained a calm composure, but secretly, your heart was beating quickly in anxiety.

Mo'at stood with a burning leaf in front of your face and blew the smoke right to you. You inhaled deeply, the sickly sweet smell making your eyes heavy. She came forward with a worm from the sacred tree and proclaimed loudly, "O wise worm, who eats the Sacred Tree, grant this worthy warrior true vision."

Swallowing the worm was an uncomfortable feeling, but you kept your face neutral as you felt it travel down your throat. "Grant true vision," she continued. "Grant true vision. In the plants, grant true vision to her." Jake stood with something crawling in his hand and walked behind you. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes in anticipation.

A stabbing sensation pierced through your back as the small creature stung you on your shoulder blade. You cried out in pain. The sting hurt worse than you could have anticipated, and your body curled into itself as the pain spread like a fire across your back. Your breathing became ragged as the burning wrapped around your chest.

All around you, the world became hazy. You looked up at the figures sitting around you, but you couldn't make out their features anymore. They started swaying back and forth, and you couldn't tell if they were moving or if your vision was distorting. The drumming sounds became deeper in your head and started to feel more like a heartbeat than an instrument. The luminescent plants around you started to glow brighter with more vivid colors than you had ever seen. The figures kept moving back and forth until they stopped looking like people and more like leaves on a swaying branch.

You blinked hard to try and clear your vision. The world in front of you seemed to morph before your very eyes, and the sacred chamber was replaced by the scene of the forest.

You were no longer kneeling on the ground, but standing on a wide tree branch. It was dark like night, and in front of you was the trunk of the tree rising into the canopy with two thick branches emerging from either side of it above you.

From the far ends of both branches, two figures walked out towards the trunk, one from the left and the other from the right. They were both hazy but appeared to be Na'vi. The person on the left called out your name in a familiar voice. You stepped closer in hesitation, trying to focus on their face and see who it was.

"My child," the voice beckoned, "come to me." Your heart seized when you recognized your mother's voice from the figure. "Mother?" You whispered in awe. Her face came in and out of focus, but you knew it was her. Head spinning, you reach out a hand to her.

Before she could respond, you heard shouting further down the left branch she was standing on followed by gunfire. Though you couldn't see anything, you knew in your heart that there were Sky People at the end of the branch. Your mother turned away and ran towards the sounds of battle.

You cried out to her as she disappeared from view, the grief of losing her washing over you anew. You were about to jump up onto the left branch to follow her, but the figure standing on the right branch called out your name, causing you to falter.

This voice was also familiar to you, though, like how it had been with your mother, you couldn't make out who was speaking. You tried looking closely at the figure on the right, but it was like your eyes were refusing to focus. The figure knelt down on their branch and extended a hand.

"Come to me," they said in a low voice. You looked up at the figure, then looked back over to where your mother disappeared. You could still hear the gunshots and screaming from the end of the left branch.

"My mother is that way," you told the crouching silhouette and pointed to your left. "I must help her." The figure said nothing, nor did they move. Your heart (or was it the drums?) beat loudly in your chest. "I must fight!" You told them desperately. Without moving, the figure simply repeated, "Come to me."

Something about this person made you hesitate. Sometimes, when you dreamed in the past, several situations and scenarios occurred in your sleep that appeared to make no sense at all, but in the moment, your subconscious understood the context of the bizarre dreams. It was a sense of understanding that allowed you to carry on in strange circumstances even when they didn't make any rational sense.

It was like that now. Under any other circumstances, you would have never hesitated to go left and follow your mother. Even as you stood on the tree branch, you wondered at yourself and your hesitation. It was true that you wanted to follow her. You wanted to go down the left branch and wipe out as many Sky People as you could, but the hand reaching for you from the branch on the right made you stop.

Looking further down the branch on the right, you couldn't see anything but the dense forest, but when you focused, you could hear faint laughter. It sounded like there was a Na'vi encampment nearby further down the right branch.

In your heart, you understood the choice that lay before you. If you followed the left branch, you could go and be the great warrior you had wanted to be since the war started. You had the chance to avenge your mother and bring honor to your family, even if it meant being killed in action.

If, on the other hand, you went down the branch on the right, you would be leaving the violence behind you and choosing peace. The sounds of the people on the right reminded you that warrior was not a true Na'vi calling. All warriors were merely hunters who had been prompted by war to defend their home. You had spent so much of your life at war that you had forgotten that the true way of the Na'vi is peace.

You looked back at the branch on the left again. By turning your back on the violence, you would also be surrendering the hurt you felt at your mother's death and the vengeance that had been driving you to fight every day since. It had been embedded into your heart, and removing it would be painful, but you finally realized that letting it remain there was poisoning yourself.

In your hazy state of mind, you hadn't even realized you were crying until you tried to speak again. You wiped your face quickly and cleared your throat. Looking left, you whispered to where your mother disappeared, "I'm sorry." Then, you turned to the still-kneeling figure on the right and took their hand.

With a strong grasp, they pulled you onto the branch. Your face was so close to theirs, but in the dark and haze, you still couldn't make out who it was. Holding your hand, they turned and pulled you towards the sounds of the voices at the end. As you got closer, the world became darker until you couldn't see anything anymore. Trusting the hand of the mystery person, you continued walking until faint blue, green, and purple lights appeared in the distance.

You felt the hand let go of yours, and you tried to call out in alarm, but your throat felt stuck. "Come to me," you heard them whisper one last time. Even though you felt afraid, you continued walking as the lights came closer and grew brighter.

You gasped for air as you awoke from your trance. The colors in your dream were spread around you in the form of the luminescent plants of the sacred chamber. It had only felt like a few minutes for you, but in reality, you had been comatose for nearly an hour. Dizzy, you sat up and blinked, trying to focus on something. Mo'at sat before you. She held your face before hers as you continued gasping for air. "It is finished," she said solemnly.

Still in a daze, you felt your father pull you into a tight embrace. "You have brought honor to our family," he whispered. "I am very proud of you." Jake came forward and rested his hands on your shoulders. "You are true Omatikaya now," he declared. You gazed up at him and smiled. "Thank you," you said breathlessly.

Outside, the rest of the Sully family were waiting for you to return. Kiri was the first to pull you into an embrace, quickly followed by Tuk's hug. Lo'ak gave you a friendly punch to the arm. Finally, Neteyam wrapped his arms around you as tightly as his still-recovering body would allow, and you cherished the feeling of his warmth against your figure. "I am very proud of you," he whispered before letting you go. You smiled up at him, feeling like you were glowing.

The rest of the day was a blur. Jake announced your status as a fully-fledged member of the People in front of the whole clan. You were bombarded with praise the whole day, and in the evening, you prepared for the celebration of your Second Birth by washing away the Uniltaron markings off of your body and undoing several of your braids except for the ones carrying beads from your mother and grandmother.

You felt overwhelmed by the congratulations you received from the clan. You felt truly honored at the words they said to you, and you understood that the clan was the object of peace that the right branch in your vision had symbolized.

As the night grew late, families started to withdraw to their living quarters. You were getting tired yourself, and so you excused yourself and bid everyone a good night. As you reached the edge of the gathering, you felt a hand gently grab your elbow. You turned to see Neteyam's face smiling down at you. "I want to show you something before you go," he whispered somewhat mischievously.

"What is it?" you asked curiously. He smirked. "You will know when we get there," he replied and tugged at your arm to follow him. You couldn't help but smile and follow after him as he sprinted away from the gathering and the rest of the village and into the trees.

Leaping from branch to branch, you were the most carefree you'd been since you began fighting in the war. All of your worries, bitterness, and anger seemed to have vanished for the time being. Now, you just felt happiness as you ran through the trees trying to keep up with Neteyam. Occasionally, he would look back at you with a smile and call out, "Keep up!" It made you laugh. After a while, he started climbing upwards, and you finally recognized the area he was leading you to.

Long ago, the two of you had discovered what you suspected may have once been the nest of a stray ikran. It was large and open at the top of the canopy, but it had been grown over with shrubs and moss for quite some time. It was perfect for star-gazing or hiding from your families, but you were both so young when you had discovered it that you weren't allowed to stay out past eclipse, and Neteyam so rarely went out without at least one sibling in tow that you had only gone out there a handful of times.

When the Sky People returned and you two began fighting, the time and opportunity to go out and see the strange fixture diminished, and eventually, you had forgotten all about it. Evidently, Neteyam still remembered.

You could see the outline of it through the remaining branches. Neteyam pulled himself up to the edge of the nest and turned around to look down on you. You followed up after him as quickly as you could. He knelt down from his branch and offered his hand out to you.

Looking up at him, your breath was knocked out of your chest. Everything about him was identical to the figure from your vision. His posture, his extended hand was exactly what you had seen earlier that day. The realization struck you hard; not only had you chosen the People, but you had also chosen him.

You stood gazing at him in a silent stupor. He noticed your hesitation, and his smile faltered somewhat. "Is everything alright?" He asked in concern. Still staring up at him, your smile returned. "Yes," you managed to say finally, "everything is alright."

You took his hand, and he pulled you up beside him effortlessly. The two of you stood closely face to face as you had done in your vision, only this time, every detail of his handsome face was perfectly clear for you to see. You could feel your heart pounding from your recent revelation as well as your proximity to each other.

Neteyam hopped over into the nest. The floor of it was still covered in moss, but the shrubbery and vines around the edges had been cleared away. Following in behind him, you noticed a few cushions lying on the ground next to a basket with a large banana fruit inside, a rare treat among the Na'vi.

Taking in the scene, you started laughing. It had been so long since you'd felt happiness like this, you couldn't help but laugh. Neteyam laughed too. "Do you like it?" He asked eagerly. You stared at him incredulously. "Like it?" You repeated. "This is perfect." He smiled widely at your praise.

Taking your hand, he led you over to the cushions for you to sit on. He grabbed the banana fruit from the basket and gave it a quick toss in the air before handing it to you. "This is for you," he said, looking very pleased with himself. "For the mighty huntress and warrior of the Omatikaya."

You laughed at him again. "How did you find this?" You ask him in amazement. It was very difficult to find canopy fruit untouched by other creatures, but this one seemed completely unblemished. Neteyam shrugged casually. "Eywa wanted me to find it," he responded. You shook your head at him with a wide smile. "Then I think Eywa would want you to have it," you told him, handing it back to him. It was good manners in Na'vi culture to turn down the offering of banana fruit from its finder.

"Oh, don't do that with me," he said. "It is for you. I don't want it." You knew that wasn't true because there was not a single person you knew who didn't want banana fruit. He laughed at the disbelieving look you gave him. "I am being serious, I saved this for you for your Second Birth," he insisted.

You weren't budging. Finally, with a roll of his eyes, he suggested, "We can share it, but you have the first bite." You smiled, satisfied at his proposition. Raising the fruit to your mouth, you bit into it and were overcome by the sweetness of it. You savored its taste with your eyes closed. It was hard to remember the last time you had tasted a banana fruit.

Handing it over to Neteyam, you watched as he took a bite from it as well, smiling at its rich flavor. As you both chewed in silence, you looked up at the night sky. Countless stars were littered overhead, shining so brightly that you felt that if all the natural light from the forest went out, you would still be able to see everything from where you sat.

"I had completely forgotten about this place," you sighed, breaking the silence. Neteyam nodded. "Me too," he admitted. "I only remembered when Tuk told me that she once had a dream about being carried away by a toruk back to its nest, and it reminded me of here." You laughed at his story. "Poor Tuk," you said, taking another bite from the banana fruit. He waved a hand dismissively. "She's fine," he told you with a grin. "And it gave me the idea of bringing you back here once you completed Uniltaron."

You heaved a big sigh. "It is still strange to think about," you confessed. "I feel...different." He studied your face. "It was hard?" He asked though it felt less like a question and more like a statement. You nodded, remembering the image of your mother standing before you. "Yes," you murmured, "but not in the way I was expecting."

Traditionally, it is not permitted for Na'vi to speak about their Dream Quest. Still, you felt the need to express what it had taught you.

"I have spent several years fighting against the Sky People," you started slowly. "I have faced so much loss and pain in the war, but I fought for our people, our home, our way of life." Neteyam watched you intently, listening closely to what you were saying.

"When they took away my mother-" you paused to take a shaky breath. "When they took her, I was overcome with vengeance and bitterness. After that, I wanted to fight more than ever so I could destroy the Sky People. It consumed me." Your throat tightened. Taking another breath, you continued.

"I could not see that my own bitterness was affecting the ones around me, the people I hold closest to my heart." You looked up at Neteyam remorsefully and took his hand in yours. "I am sorry for the way I have treated you," you told him earnestly. "I took out so much of my anger and pain on you when you did nothing to deserve it."

He squeezed your hand softly and shook his head. "No," he disagreed. "I did deserve it. I never should have tried to control you the way I did." You sighed as you remembered the angry argument you'd had with each other after you were grounded from missions. "I couldn't see how the war affected me outside of battle," you explained. "It has stained my spirit." You tapped on your chest for emphasis.

"Today, I was given a choice," you told him. "I could continue to fight to avenge my mother and all the other Na'vi killed by the Sky People." You paused, remembering how your mother turned and ran towards the violence. "Or, I could turn my back on my vengeance and focus on the ones still here with me." You looked up at the night sky as you thought about your vision. You could feel Neteyam's gaze boring into you. You could also feel his thumb rubbing softly across the top of your hand.

"Which did you choose?" He asked finally. You waited a while before answering his question. You thought about his extended hand both in your vision and just now. You heard his beckoning call in your memory: Come to me. After a moment, you answered, "I chose peace."

You looked away from the sky to his face. He was staring at you with an intense gaze that made your heart beat faster. He said nothing, he just studied your face like he was trying to memorize every detail. In your chest, you felt a longing you had been trying to suppress for years. You had felt it when you were younger as he told you the stories of his father's home world. You had felt it when he patched you up after your first close call in battle. You had felt it after your argument on the night of your accident. You had felt it when he confessed that you were his weakness. And now, you felt it stronger than ever.

You turned your body to face him better. "I chose peace," you repeated, heart still beating quickly in your chest. "And I chose you."

Your words hung in the air, and for a moment, everything was still as you looked into his amber eyes. Then, faster than you could process, Neteyam grabbed you by the back of your head and pulled you into a deep kiss.

Startled at first, you quickly melted into the kiss, pressing forward to lean against his strong body. You pulled apart for a breath but immediately returned for more. The hand that wasn't holding your head slid across your waist to your back as he pulled you closer to his body. He broke from the kiss with a heavy breath and moved his lips down from yours to kiss your jaw.

"I chose you, too," he whispered against your skin. "Long ago." He leaned back a little bit to admire your face, and you felt his thumb caress your neck, sending chills down your back. "Be mine," he said quietly, but with purpose. You felt breathless at his kiss and his words, but you smiled softly and nodded. "I have always been yours," you managed to whisper.

At that, he brought you back to his face and kissed you passionately. Your arms slid around his shoulders, and you could feel the muscles of his chest press against you. You felt his tongue teasing the edges of your lips, causing a small moan to escape you. Neteyam smiled against your mouth at your reaction and moved down from your mouth to your jaw again and further down to your neck.

After a few soft kisses to your neck, he paused. You could feel his warm breath against your sensitive skin. He let out a humming sigh, the same one he made whenever he didn't want to wake up from his sleep. Your eyes fluttered open, and you looked at him, his face right up to yours.

"What?" You whispered to him. He smiled softly, his eyes still closed for a moment before looking up at you tenderly. "Tomorrow, we can go to my father and grandmother to receive the blessing of Olo'eyktan and Tsahik," he said. "And then we may go to the Tree of Voices to be bonded before Eywa." Then, with a pointed smile, he repeated, "Tomorrow."

You smiled sheepishly as you understood what he was implying. Ever the rule follower, Neteyam was not about to break the social conventions of Na'vi culture. It was his indirect way of telling you that this was as far as you were going tonight. You couldn't deny the twinge of disappointment you felt, but you could appreciate his desire to follow tradition.

"Tomorrow," you repeated back with a nod. He smiled at you adoringly and pulled you in for a less passionate but still tender kiss. Pulling away, you smiled as a thought occurred to you. "Poor Ritirey," you said to him. "She is going to be so disappointed." Neteyam laughed at your statement. Everyone was painfully aware of the young girl's moon-eyed gaze whenever Neteyam was around. She fawned over him constantly to the point where he was slightly embarrassed to be around her.

"She'll be fine eventually," he assured you, leaning back against the cushions. You adjusted your position so that you could lay alongside him at the edge of the nest. "I am concerned for Hartuk," he added. You look up at him in surprise. "Hartuk?" You repeated in confusion.

Neteyam chuckled at your reaction. "You haven't noticed how he's always right at your elbow whenever we are in war meetings?" He asked. You thought about it, and you could see the other warrior in your memories of meetings and preparations before taking off for a mission. "I suppose, but he is so quiet, I never really noticed. Besides, it's probably nothing."

Neteyam shook his head with a smile. "He was with me and some other men from the war party a few weeks ago," he explained, looking up at the stars as he spoke, "and the topic turned to choosing a mate. Mekar asked him if he had his eye on somebody, and he said yes, but that she had not yet completed Uniltaron. We all started guessing who it was, and someone finally guessed you, and he went quiet again."

You could see his jaw twitch in something like jealousy, and it made you exhale a little chuckle. Noticing your reaction, he glanced down at you with a sly grin that made you blush slightly. "I realized I was going to have to move quickly if I were to have you as my mate," he continued.

You hummed in understanding before saying, "I would have turned him down even if you were slower." He chuckled at you. "I would hope so," he said, "but I was not going to take that chance." You laughed, turning your body to press flush against his and resting your head against his chest. His arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you to him tightly as his fingers brushed over your arm gently.

You lay together like that for hours, just talking and holding each other close. You traced the stars glowing on his chest as he ran his fingers through your loose hair. Neither of you even realized you were falling asleep until you woke up to the sun poking out from behind the large planet in the sky.

You tried stretching as the light hit your eyes, but your legs were tangled with his, and you realized you were still pressed against Neteyam. Remembering everything that happened the previous day, you smiled softly. Wrapping an arm around his torso, you pulled yourself closer to him and savored the warmth of his body against your own.

You heard a chuckle rumble in his chest. He had woken up before you and was currently playing absently with a piece of your hair. It was so peaceful, you could've stayed lying there in his embrace for the rest of your life. "People are going to wonder where we are," you whispered finally. He hummed lazily. "Let them," he murmured, his voice low and gravely from sleep.

You smiled. Usually, he would be the one to worry about maintaining appearances before the rest of the clan, but being in the fresh morning air with you curled into his side made it all seem unimportant. You both lay there in a comfortable silence for a long while before Neteyam sighed contentedly.

"Hmm?" Your eyes had been closed, but now you looked up at him sleepily. He turned his head to kiss your forehead before muttering, "I like waking up next to you." You grinned sheepishly, feeling your cheeks grow warm. "Well," you said coyly as you turned your body to face him better, "maybe you can do it again tomorrow." He huffed an amused breath against your skin.

"And the day after," he added, pressing a kiss to your temple. "And the day after." He moved his lips down to your cheek slowly and kissed you there softly. "And the day after." He pressed his lips to the corner of your mouth, and whispered quietly one more time, "And the day after," before kissing you tenderly on the lips.

You couldn't get over how it felt kissing him. It was so novel, yet you had known him for so long, loved him for so long that it felt natural. It felt right. He broke the kiss gently, still resting his forehead against yours. "And the day after," he continued, making you laugh. He smiled against your cheek. "And every day for the rest of my life," he finished.

You gazed at him adoringly. After everything you went through—the pain, the loss, the fights, the anger—it had seemed like happiness was something you had once dreamt up long ago. But now, you had it right there in front of you, holding you close and kissing you gently in the fresh morning air. It seemed impossible.

Neteyam interrupted your musings with a heavy sigh. "We're going to need to get up sometime if we want my father's blessing," he said. Every couple in Na'vi culture must receive the blessing of the Olo'eyktan and the Tsahik before they are allowed to consummate their relationship. It was more of a formality than anything, but tradition is important. Customs must be upheld, especially by the son of Olo'eyktan.

You sighed at the thought of having to leave such a comfortable situation, but knowing that he was just as eager as you were to officialize your relationship warmed your chest. You held him tightly for one more second and gave him another chaste kiss before rolling away from him and stretching.

Taking the cushions you had been resting on, the two of you made off into the forest back towards the clan. The nature around you had never seemed so beautiful. You seemed to notice the vibrant colors around you for the first time. The chattering of creatures in the trees sounded like music to you. Paths you'd taken countless times before gave you a new sense of wonder. The world felt alive and new because, for the first time in a long time, you had hope.

You and Neteyam walked in companionable silence, occasionally bringing up casual points of conversation. You were walking so closely that your arms brushed against each other. By the time you arrived back at the clan, most everybody was awake and readying themselves for the day.

Side-by-side, you walked into the cavernous village. You both headed straight for his family's tent, but only Kiri and Tuk were inside. Kiri was braiding her sister's hair when she noticed the two of you entering the tent.

With a chastising look, she asked Neteyam, "Where were you last night?" Her eyes darted from his face, down to the cushions he was holding, then up to your face. A look of revelation made her eyes widen at you both. "Oh my god," she uttered in English, sounding horrified. "Did you guys—?"

"Kiri," Neteyam cut her off shortly before she could accuse you of anything, especially something you wouldn't want to mention in front of Tuk. "No," he answered her unfinished question. "We did nothing." You felt yourself blushing at her insinuation, but you also couldn't help but smile at Neteyam's embarrassment.

Tuk could always tell when she was missing a piece of context in a conversation, and this was no different. "What did he do?" She demanded to know. Neteyam shot Kiri an irritated look before answering his other sister with an emphatic, "Nothing." Both sisters seemed unconvinced but didn't push it any further.

"Where is Dad?" Neteyam asked after recovering from his embarrassment. Without looking up from her braiding fingers, Kiri responded suspiciously, "Why?" Neteyam huffed an exasperated breath. You decided to step into the conversation. "We would like to speak with him," you told her. "Do you know where he is?"

Kiri's fingers stopped braiding. Her eyes snapped up at you both with a second look of realization on her face, this one with much less horror. "Wait," she whispered. "Are you two going—" Tuk gasped loudly, cutting her sister off mid-sentence. It seemed she understood the context this time and realized what you were asking shortly after Kiri did.

"Are you going to ask Dad for his blessing?!" She asked eagerly, her young face lit up with exuberance. You couldn't help but grin at the youngest Sully's excitement. It was heartwarming. Looking at Neteyam, you could see a small smile tugging at his lips too.

"Do you know where he is?" He repeated your question. Tuk squealed in delight, and Kiri's astonished look melted into a happy smile. "He is with Grandmother in her tent," she answered finally. That's convenient, you thought. You turned to face Neteyam, and you could see that he had the same thought. "Thanks," you told her, and you both walked out of the tent, his sisters whispering loudly behind you.

Mo'at's tent was not far. As you approached, Neteyam took your hand in his and whispered, "Ready?" You looked up at him with a smile. "Very," you replied, and with that, you both pushed your way into the tent together.

Inside, you saw Jake, Neytiri, and Mo'at sitting together on the floor eating. Their conversation halted when you both walked in, and the three of them stared up at you questioningly. You and Neteyam both respectfully acknowledged the three of them with "I see you." You suddenly felt very nervous standing in front of the three most influential members of the clan.

"What is it, Neteyam?" Neytiri asked, surprised to see the two of you there. He took a breath before replying confidently, "We have come to ask the blessing of Olo'eyktan and Tsahik." The tent was filled with a surprised silence. Your heart was pounding as you waited for a response, the only comfort was Neteyam's hand firmly holding yours.

You were relieved when you noticed a soft small on Neytiri's face. She looked over at Jake and the two of them shared a knowing look. It wasn't until much later that you learned that she had placed a wager against her mate on how soon you two would ask for their blessing after you came of age.

Jake stood up before you, placing one of his hands on your shoulder and the other on Neteyam's. "You wish to have this woman as your mate?" He asked his son. Neteyam gave a solemn nod. "Yes," he said clearly. Looking at you, Jake then asked, "You wish to have this man as your mate?" You couldn't suppress the smile on your face as you replied, "Yes."

You felt Neteyam's eyes on your face. You turned and looked up at him. He looked as happy as you felt, and though he was trying to maintain a formal attitude, the way he looked at you made your chest tighten in adoration. You could feel his thumb stroking the back of yours comfortingly, and you squeezed his hand gently.

"Then you have my blessing as Olo'eyktan," Jake told you. "You may be One in the eyes of the People." Excitement filled your chest at his words, and you could feel your heart beating quickly. Behind Jake, Mo'at had stood and was waiting to offer her blessing. You looked at her expectantly, but she didn't say anything for a while, she just looked back and forth between you and Neteyam.

Eventually, she lifted her hands to your chests, placing a palm over your heart and the other over his. You waited for a response, but you scarcely dared to breathe lest you make a noise and break her focused silence. Finally, she declared, "Two strong hearts...beating as One." She gave the two of you a rare, gentle smile. "Eywa has protected you both from great harm. Now, you may go and be One before Her."

Your throat became thick with emotions at her words and her smile. She was right, you had both been through so much together. Thrown into a war you never wanted, you had learned violence at a young age. You had seen death and destruction at a rate that most Na'vi had never seen from the time of the First Songs. Clan members, friends, family, all lost to the senseless violence of the Sky People. It had wedged itself between the two of you for a time, but now, you refused to be separated by it anymore.

Neteyam bowed his head graciously at Mo'at, and you followed suit. "Thank you," you both said earnestly. The Tsahik lifted her hand to touch her grandson's cheek affectionately. "Wait here a moment," she told him. She crossed over to a pile of jars and started mixing something. While she was working, Neytiri stood up and hugged her eldest. "I am very happy for you both," she said as she pulled away and placed a hand on your shoulder. Her eyes were shining with proud tears as she smile at the two of you.

Mo'at returned to where you were standing, a small bowl of what looked like light yellow clay in her hands. She dipped her thumb in the mixture and marked Neteyam's forehead with an oblong circle with a small dot in it, the Eye of Eywa. She turned and painted your forehead with the same mark.

Looking at Neteyam wearing the Eye of Eywa made it all feel real. The mark was symbolic that a couple had been blessed by Eywa to join together as a pair, and it displayed that status to the rest of the clan. Now, you both bore the mark of commitment. You could see that Neteyam was having the same thoughts as you, the reality of it all settling in over him as he smiled down at you lovingly.

"You may go with our blessing," Mo'at said finally. You both nodded and thanked them again. You walked out hand-in-hand, giddy beyond belief. Right outside, Kiri and Tuk were waiting expectantly. Seeing the marks on your foreheads, they both gasped in excitement. “I knew it! I knew it!” Tuk exclaimed as she gave Neteyam a big hug. Kiri pulled you into a warm embrace as well and said, “I am very happy for you both.”

It didn’t take long for the news to spread throughout the clan. To the disappointment of many of the women, the son of Olo’eyktan has chosen his mate, and to the disappointment of many of the men, he had chosen you. Still, you both received many congratulations from the People. You understood that by being with Neteyam, you also bore some of his burden of being an example to them, but you were more than willing to shoulder that responsibility.

In the afternoon, you dedicated time alone to braid beads and other such tokens into each other’s hair. He went first since most of your hair was already loose from the previous day. He showed you the colorful beads and stones he had either made or previously owned. One that stood out to you was a large, red bead with beautiful striations that resembled a flower.

Braiding was an intimate process. Neither of you had ever worked with anyone else’s hair outside of your immediate families. You were practically in his lap as he worked carefully with the front pieces of your hair, sitting silently and enjoying the pleasure of this private moment. You didn’t watch him directly as he worked, but rather, you traced your fingers along the striped patterns on his legs.

He would occasionally ask if you were comfortable or if he was hurting you, but every time he asked, you just smiled and told him you were fine. He only braided a few strands of your hair by your face, but he took his time and made sure each looked perfect before finishing and placing a kiss on your shoulder.

It was now your turn to braid your beads among his own. Since Neteyam was taller than you, you had to prop yourself up on your knees in order to hold your hands at a comfortable level to undo some of his braids. He noticed the awkwardness of your adjustment. “Do you need something to sit on?” He asked. Taking one of his braids in hand, you shook your head and replied, “I’ll be fine like this.”

After a brief pause, you noticed a smirk growing on his face. He wrapped one hand around the back of your thigh and the other across your lower back, and in one swift movement, he hoisted you onto his lap so that you were straddling him. “Better?” He asked smugly. Your face grew hot, and you were too flustered to respond immediately. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing the effect he had over you, so you tried your best to suppress the bashful smile pulling at your lips and responded evenly, “This will work.”

You worked quietly to undo his braids, your heart beating quickly at his proximity. Unlike how you had been when he worked at your hair, Neteyam didn’t look away; on the contrary, he stared up at your face the whole time. You stayed intently focused on your fingers, but you were acutely aware of his staring. You couldn’t help but smile and ask, “What is it?”

“Nothing,” he responded simply. “Just admiring.” You scoffed playfully at his words. You didn’t quite know how to respond to him, so you muttered under your breath, “Skxawng.” He hummed in amusement. He still had his hand wrapped around your thigh, and you could feel his fingers brushing back and forth against your skin. It was very distracting.

It didn’t take long for you to finish the three braids you had made sporting the beads you had brought. You hadn’t looked away from your work the whole time, but when you finished the last braid, you dropped your hands to rest on his shoulders and finally turned your eyes to look into his.

Neither of you said anything. You didn’t need to say anything. You had both spent so much of your lives together, both longing for this moment but never saying or acting on it. You didn’t need to say anything because nothing either of you could say could convey the depths of your feelings or level of devotion for each other. So, you sat in silence, your hands on his shoulders, his fingers brushing your thigh.

Eventually, you leaned forward and your lips met his gently. Neteyam wrapped his arms around you, pulling you as close to his body as he could. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you drew flush against him. His hands journeyed up your back, trying to explore as much as possible. His touch was intoxicating, and it made you want more. Deepening the kiss, you shifted against him slightly. He groaned quietly against your mouth, breaking away from your lips.

“Behave,” he whispered breathlessly in a way that made you very much not want to behave. You smirked and looked at him. “You’re such a tease,” you joked, earning a huff of amusement from Neteyam. “You’ll see,” he replied in a low voice. His promise left you speechless and blushing.

He raised a hand to brush your new braids out of your face. “They look good on you,” he said, referring to the beads hanging from them. Recovering from your flustered silence, you responded, “They are very beautiful.” He smiled softly before pulling you into a hug. You stayed wrapped in his strong embrace for a long time, his lips resting against your neck but not quite kissing it. He just held you, and you held him.

Never before had you ever felt so happy. It had taken so long for you to find it. So much pain and anger had taken over that you had forgotten what it felt like. You knew that this euphoric adoration you were both experiencing would pass, but the strength of your embrace and love for each other would never waver.

“I see you,” he whispered against your skin. You lifted your head to look at him before whispering back, “I see you.”

Part 5

#avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar fanfiction #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam fic #neteyam fluff #loak sully #kiri sully #slow burn #friends to lovers

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californiaboytoybilly · 2 months

Text

VILLAINOUS VALENTINES || BILLY HARGROVE X STEVE HARRINGTON || ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3 || NSFW 2.2k

cw: stalking, voyeurism/exhibitionism, mutual masturbation, sex toys, dominant bottom billy, mildly dubious consent, pervert steve harrington, cocky billy hargrove, model billy hargrove

beta read by: @bottombillyapologist (tysm 🖤)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

o:|| ~ IT’S A GIVE AND TAKE KIND OF LOVE WE MAKE ~ ||:o

He was watching.

Billy knew he was watching. He was as predictable as the soft creak of the weathered floorboard that accompanied his first step across the threshold of his bedroom, somewhere beyond the soft fluttering of his sheer curtains.

Casting his eyes to the side as he walked towards his bed, Billy tried not to smile as he caught a glimpse of him, half hidden behind the stone statue in the garden. Steve- because it wasn’t hard to find out really anybody’s name or place of work when you had a wallet full of cash- had become something of a toy to him.

Steve didn’t know that Billy knew he was there, of course. No, no. That had been the best part for the blonde.

He imagined a breathless gasp echoing in his garden as he dropped the towel tied loosely around his waist, shower damp skin prickling as it was bared to the air. Steve would be drinking in the sight of him, lip clasped between his teeth all guiltily the way he did when Billy started coincidentally passing by the ice cream stand he worked at in the mall when he went to visit his favorite photographer.

Not many professional photographers would let you drag them into their supply closet for a quick fuck after a session, and Billy had been in a five year dry spell when it came to anything more than casual.

Maybe it was a little fucked up that he knew someone was stalking him and enjoyed it, but Billy wasn’t trying to pretend to be normal. It could’ve been his vanity, his ego, some need to be seen by someone— but he didn’t care why.

Putting on these Friday night shows was the only time he even bothered to touch himself anymore. It just wasn’t the same without his little audience member.

Billy sighed as he sat down on the edge of the bed, reaching for the rich tub of lotion he kept nearby. He wondered if the anticipation was simmering in Steve’s stomach in the same way it was for him as he scooped up the cream on his fingertips, thick and sweetly scented like white tea and raspberries.

As his fingers swirled the cream over his toned chest, massaging and pressing, leaving tingling little trails in their wake, his body began to wake up in other ways. Billy’s head tipped back, a private smile just for himself spreading across his lips as he let his legs fall open.

The teasing was the best part, but he found himself incredibly impatient for the main course. It had been a long week and he’d been eager for this.

Letting his back hit the wall, Billy slowly trailed his massaging fingers lower as he worked his skin cream in, breath catching in his throat when his fingertips brushed the very top of the thatch of hair between his hips. So close.

Finally, he couldn’t bear it anymore. He needed to get off like it was as important as the oxygen he breathed.

Wiping off his fingers carelessly on the sheets, Billy let his eyes open just enough to peer subtly towards the window once more. There he was, even less hidden than before as his distraction clearly won out over his need to be hidden. That was how Billy had first learned of him after all.

As soon as all of the calendar model’s perfect golden skin was on display, Steve’s blood rushed south and Billy got to see a little more of his admirer as he slipped up.

Though the details were a little fuzzy from here, Billy could see his hand slowly rubbing over the denim of his jeans, pretty jaw dropped just a little as he braced himself against moss covered stone. Fizzling pleasure like fireworks flooded Billy’s body at the confirmation he was enjoying what he saw.

Like he always did.

Maybe one day he’d invite him in. Sit him down in the leather chair in the corner and make him beg to touch the object of his obsession, while Billy took himself apart painfully slow in front of his eyes. Maybe he’d even let him lick his spent dick clean after, just a fleeting taste to drive him wild.

Billy throbbed between his legs at the thought. Fuck, that was enticing. He always felt so boneless and lazy after a good orgasm, cleaning up was a hassle he didn’t always want to bother with. He knew Steve would do such a good job, clever pink tongue catching every single pearly drop like it was a priceless wine he could never afford.

With that image burned into his mind, Billy let his eyes slip shut as his hand wrapped around the base of his cock, flushed and weeping where it had risen to kiss the soft skin of his abdomen. If he gasped a little louder than was strictly necessary to ensure the sound would carry through the crack of his open window, that was his own business.

Need scratched up the inside of Billy’s body with fire-tipped claws, a beast yearning to be set free. Tonight wouldn’t be a slow, leisurely show. He needed it too much for that.

A whine escaped him as he rubbed his thumb over the swollen head, ass lifting an inch off the bed as he just barely stopped himself from thrusting into his hand. Fuck. His free hand blindly traveled over the bed until it slipped under his pillow to the place where he’d hidden what he needed for this.

Cool, pink glass brushed his fingers and he smiled as he removed it from its hiding place. Heather had been horrified at the very thought of a glass toy, cringing so hard in the shop despite the salespersons assurance it was solid and completely safe that she’d almost escaped her own skin.

Billy loved it. The temperature, the unyielding nature of it, the heart shaped bumps and ridges that made his toes curl. He lifted the toy to his mouth, opening his eyes just a little as he spit on the flared head of the toy.

He tried his best not to look right at Steve as he lowered the toy, letting it skim over his waiting hole as he spread his legs a little further, chin falling to rest on his chest with a pant as he pushed it inside of himself. A shudder rolled up his spine, tongue damn near falling out of his mouth as it lolled.

The spit wasn’t enough to make it an easy slide, but the friction only made his cock jump in his hold again. He liked it to burn a little so he could feel it later.

Idly, he wondered what Steve was packing. Would he stretch him open like the toy? Make it burn? Or was his proclivity to watch because he was on the smaller side? Did it make him feel inadequate, did he watch because he didn’t believe he could please Billy?

He was sure he could find a way. Size wasn’t everything.

Maybe if his cock was too small to ride, Billy would tie him to the bed. His ankles and wrists bound, laying there helpless and desperate as Billy straddled his face and rode his tongue until his blood turned to lava in his veins and he lost the ability to speak.

It only felt fair. Payment in pleasure for all that Billy had given him over the last six months.

He worked the toy faster as his desperation built, thigh muscles bunching up tight. Another lazy glance under his lashes showed him that Steve’s hand had disappeared into his pants, head pressed against the statue and shoulder rapidly rising and falling.

You wish you were inside of me instead? Billy wondered, before the toy brushed against a spot that had him damn near choking on the moan that ripped free.

Steve’s head dropped the second the sound reached his ears, only for a moment, mouth moving around a word Billy couldn’t make out and hand never so much as pausing its rapid motion. Just the sight of him had Billy going faster, rocking himself down to meet each thrust of the toy to get it deeper but—

Billy whined, annoyed. He was so fucking close but it wasn’t enough. He needed more.

It almost pained him to let the toy slip out of him, cock weeping and angry at the sudden neglect as he used his hands to get to his knees. He was loath to sacrifice his little glimpses of his favorite freak, but… maybe it wouldn’t hurt to give Steve something special tonight.

It was Valentine’s Day, and he felt like being nice.

And, he really needed to fucking cum before he exploded.

Billy turned his back to the window, kneeling on the soft mattress holding his weight, and bent over to reach into his nightstand. He might have shaken his ass, just a little. As a treat.

It didn’t take long to see what he was looking for. Bright red silicone and big enough to make his mouth water. He snatched it as well as the tube beside it, impatiently slicking it up just a moment later.

Finally, he thought as he slid down onto the toy, which was tightly held in place by his feet. It left his hands free to brace him against the wall, back muscles tightening under his skin as he began to fuck himself down onto the toy. It was bigger than the other one, enough to almost hurt, but he relished in it.

Once he was sure he wasn’t going to topple over, he removed one of his hands from the wall and dropped it to pinch at his nipple, head falling loosely back on his shoulders as he let out a litany of curses.

Had Steve fully come out of hiding now that he thought Billy would be oblivious? Or was he still being careful? Maybe he was even taking pictures…

That thought shouldn’t have been appealing at all and yet it had him rocketing towards the edge, probably forming a puddle on the sheets where his bobbing cock drooled endlessly. Quiet enough to not be heard from outside, Billy tried letting Steve’s name mingle upon his pitchy moans and heavy breathing. He liked the way it dripped from his tongue.

In fact, he liked it so much that he made an incredibly risky decision. One that had the chance of scaring off his skittish little bunny for good.

But his orgasm was creeping up on him, he felt drunk on the endorphin rush, and he wanted more next time. He wanted to be touched. Wanted Steve to get on his knees and beg for the privilege to do so. Even the thought was…

His body trembled, hand shooting down to stroke himself one, twice—

It crashed into him like an ocean wave, Billy’s hips dropping down as far as he could take the toy as he clenched tight and let out a near wail of Steve’s name. It trailed off into a sob of a moan, back bending and body shuddering violently as he painted the wall with his release.

Did he imagine the startled sound behind him? His brain was swimming as he struggled to catch his breath, barely able to muster the energy to lift himself off of the toy and let it fall to the bed. He angled his body as he flopped sideways, landing on his back with his legs splayed, one dangling off the bed.

He wanted to look, see if he’d scared him off. But he felt like his muscles had been reduced to pudding and he really needed a minute to reattach himself to reality.

A minute felt like a week before he could drag himself into a sitting position, wincing at the stab of soreness that would haunt him deliciously tomorrow. He pulled himself to wobbly feet, stretching out his body as he stumbled his way towards his window.

Steve stood wide eyed in the same place Billy had last seen him, lips parted and face bright red as Billy hit a button to flick on his pool lights and effectively illuminate him. He had a dark patch on the front of his pants, which made Billy lick his lips as he fought back a smirk.

He was looking at Billy both like he was the most alluring and most terrifying creature he’d ever seen. It absolutely didn’t make the blonde preen.

His bunny shuffled in place, looking like it was taking every ounce of strength he had not to run. Billy lifted his fingers to his mouth, kissed them and then winked as he pressed them against the window.

Steve jolted, lip sucked into his mouth and looking for all the world like he forgot how to blink.

Billy took a step back, reaching out to either side of the window to grab onto the edges of the curtains as a broad smile broke out onto his face. “Happy Valentine's Day, sailor boy.” He called out, watching only long enough to see Steve’s face slacken and go impossibly more red before pulling the curtains shut with a flourish.

Perhaps he’d indulge in a little bit of ice cream tomorrow.

He’d certainly worked up an appetite.

#billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #billy x steve #stalker steve harrington #model billy hargrove #harringrove smut #stvillainousvalentines #billy antis dni #don’t like #don’t read #cw stalking #Spotify

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howdothoughtscollide · 8 months

Text

The Start Of An Unusual Friendship

Fyodor Dostoevsky x gn!reader (Platonic)

WARNING: mentions of child labor, reader is illiterate, mentions of slapping and family abandonment, my goofy side took over.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Part one of the Childhood friend au, I guess?

Diaphanous and aureate stripes of sunlight refracts through the green foliage, dappling the thick mattress of moss and grasses, dancing along with the vermillion and mauve hues of delicate flower petals. Serene wind, which carries along the effervescent chirping of birds, harmonizes with mellow humming of a lullaby mothers sing to their child, as it embrace you in the soothing warmth of summer.

As your feet set their steps on the soft and muddy path of the forest, your mind can not help but wander to a rumor concerning a boy in your village.

The village, where you were born, is a poor one. Adults who are unable to find a job and try to drink their sorrow away, children who have to do labor from a young age to provide for their family. But there is one house which seems to be well-off, since the husband works in the city.

The son of that family, who is weak since birth, instead of being thrown into the orphanage, or being dumped in the forest like other frail infants, is still loved by his parents and was taught how to read and write.

”That couple is so stupid. What’s the point in raising such a feeble child?” Your neighbor scrunched her face, clearly expressing her disdain. “All that money is better spent on themselves, or just making another kid who can bring food to the table.”

That’s adults’ remarks about him, a dissipation of money and time.

“You mustn’t ever come near or even play with that kid. It’ll spoil you, all you need is to think about what to eat tomorrow, not looking at useless paper and sitting around all day.”

That’s what your mother told you, a bad influence.

“He is super, super weird. Did you see him? He never moved at all, he looked like a dead person. People say if you see him moving, you need to run or he’ll turn you into a statue like him!!!”

That’s what your friends whisper to each other, a monster.

All of those warnings couldn’t stop you, not when your curiosity is piqued. Even if you’re turned into stone or something, it’ll certainly be worthwhile. And besides, someone who understands books must be very cool, because you’ve never really comprehended that jumbling mess.

Where was his hideout again?. You try to recall your friends’ vague description, hands pushing away the green that is covering your vision.

Is it here?. You peek through the tall bushes, eyes scanning the area.

Through the small gap between the leaves, your eyes went round, standing still as if you were actually petrified.

There he sits, ethereal and mesmerizing, mirroring that of an angel you once saw in an abandoned church, now a hangout place for kids in your village. Honeyed liquid sunlight dips his features in an almost apprational glow, a huge contrast to the stream of pure black pouring down around it. His slender fingers, which are brushing over the pages, despite having uneven nails, are clean and smooth, undoubtedly different from your dirty and calloused hands, a sign of manual labor for a long time. His long and delicate eyelashes cast shadow over the sea of hyacinth, which appears to be peering straight into your soul.

Wait a minute? Your little admiring session is suddenly halted. Is he … looking at me?!?!

The realization whacks you out of your stalled state, losing control of balance. Your hand attempts to grab a branch for stability, which is to no avail, as gravity sends you to a kiss with the ground.

You hiss from the previous intimate moment with mother earth, as you notice the soft pedicel clasped between your fingers.

A carnation??? Confusion is written all over your face. So this is the reason why the branch felt like it came off on a whim. No wonder you fell. Who thought it would be a good idea to pluck a flower and put it on a tree branch??? I swear if I found that person I-

Ah, sh*t. Your eyes met those violet ones again, and immediately your anger shrunk. Putting that idiot who decided a carnation would add on to the bland tree aside, you have a bigger problem.

You didn’t get turned into stone, but how you should even react when you’re caught staring at someone, nobody told you he’d be this beautiful, not at all.

“H-Hi.” You shoot him an awkward smile, the corner of your mouth twitching.

No answers were heard from him, and those eyes are burning holes in your face.

He must think I’m a weird and creepy kid who likes stalking people and watching them from a dark corner!!! You cry and scream internally, but you still try to save the last piece of dignity you have left in front of him.

“Uh…”. Slowly getting up, you’re about to utter the most sincere, heartfelt apology in your life.

“A beautiful flower for a beautiful lady.” You hold the carnation in his direction, eyes closing shut from the embarrassment.

THAT was not an apology.

Why did you say that, you dummy? You even used “lady”??? You slap your internal self.

It’s not my fault, that’s what I heard a guy apologized to his girlfriend the other day! They cried, justifying your actions.

Your eyebrows quirked in disbelief at you and your internal self’s stupidity, as you sign in defeat.

You open your eyes, ready to accept your fate of being called an abnormal kid. To your surprise, he appears to be unfazed, putting his attention on the book again.

Oh. You blinked. Is he nonchalant about everything? You threw away the humiliation you felt just seconds ago, replaced with curiosity. Now, you wonder if there is any way to break his composure, and how will you know if you don’t test it out?

My name is Fyodor Dostoevsky, and I love reading in the woods since it gives me just the right amount of tranquility.

Today, I was keeping with my usual routine when I sensed a pair of watching eyes behind the bushes. I stare back at them, but they seem to be so deep in thought they did not notice it.

Ah, they took note of my gaze.

Are they falling? Disheveled hair, dirty face, but no hints of injury so they must be fine. Are they seizing a flower in their hand? Anyways, I hope they’re spooked by my appearance and run away like other children. Then, I may continue reading, it’s getting to the climax of the story after all.

Why are they still here? They were stunned and baffled moments ago, now what are they doing??? Making weird faces, peeking at my book, tugging my hair, poking my face???Are they searching for a means to annoy me? What is the purpose of pursuing such reactions?

Well, I need some silence to read right now. If I keep up my cold and indifferent demeanor, they’ll eventually get bored and leave righ-

“BOO!”

The popped up voice in his head intruded the train of thoughts, making Fyodor jump from the log he was sitting on, and almost dropped his book. Fyodor turned his head to you, face mimicking that one of a startled stray cat in your village when you sneaked up behind to hug it.

Haha, did I go too far? You contemplate, since he is kinda similar to that cat now, on full alert and on the verge of scratching your face out with its claws as soon as you move by an inch.

Retreating the hand that was on his back, you curl it into a fist and cough into it to gain his attention.

“Ahem!So…”

So what? What exactly were you planning to say? I wanted to take a look at the supposed “demon”??? He’ll definitely tear my facial skin off if I told him that. Your pupils dilate, thoughts rushing over your head, attempting to come up with a way to break this unnerving silence.

Your body acted on instinct, and before you could have given any second thoughts, tucked the carnation behind his ear. “You look even more gorgeous with this crimson flower.”

Fyodor’s eyes got even wider, and you know you’ve been done for.

Just why didn’t you toss the flower away and still have it all this time??? He can understand why I did that, right?

Judging by his expressions, probably no.

I regret all my life decisions that led me to this, I wish I’d disappear right no-

“How did you do that?” The question dragged your mind, which had been considering extirpating yourself, back to your body.

“Do what?” Your eyes narrowed at him.

“You know, the… “boo” thing.” Fyodor collected himself, closing the book after placing the marker ribbon.

“Oh, that.” You’re sweating a bucket now.

You were too fixated on provoking him, that you had forgotten to hide your secret, one you promised your mom you’d bring it to the grave.

“Mom!!! Look at me, I can perform magic tricks!” You joyfully sprinted to your mom, enthusiastic to enlighten her with your new discovery.

“Dear, please go out and play with your friends elsewhere, I don’t have time for this.” Your mother clutched the bridge of her nose, clearly exhausted from the loading work at the railway.

“Please~, mother.” Your eyes twinkled. “I finished all the housework early, so can you? Just this timeeee~” Now you’re making the puppy dog eyes that she can’t resist.

A deep sigh escaped your mother, an indication of her giving in to your plea. “Fine, but make it quick.”

“You’re the best, mom!!!” You cheered at her, before carefully grabbing your mother’s hard hands between yours. “Now please pay attention.”

“Surprise!!”

Your mom was gradually drifting into sleep, but the unexpected voice in her head absolutely wiped out her drowsiness. She lowered herself, grabbing your shoulder firmly. “What did you do? Can you do it again?”

You were taken aback by your mother’s abrupt movements, but you still complied with her request.

“Are you okay,mom?”

She heard it, your voice, bright and clear, in her head. This is it, my worst nightmare, one that I dreamt of each night. Why? Why did God have to be so cruel to me? Your mother bit her lips.

Dumb-founded at your mother’s distress, you’re confused why she wasn’t happy as you were about this quirk of yours.

“Mother?”

“You haven’t told anyone about this, have you?” She snapped her head at you, her grip so tight that you started to feel a little pain.

“No… You’re the first one.” You tried to escape from her grasp, but your little struggle is no match for her grasp, failing repeatedly.

“Good, good…” Incoherent phrases flowing out of her mouth, leaving you more puzzled.

Ah, what am I thinking, they’re my child. Of course, they’re raised by me, they’re different from that bastard-

“Mom? You’re making me hurt.” Your face winced, finding the pain uncomfortable.

“Oh my, sorry, dear. Just promise me you won’t let anybody know about this, okay?” She quickly let go, a hand cupping your cheek.

“But why, mom? This may help us make mone-“

Smack

The heavy sound reverberates against the thin wall of the cold bedroom, with the moonlight outside being the only source of light and the witness of the whole ordeal. Then, bit by bit, it is switched by small whimpers and weakened sobs departing from your lips, tears rolling on your cheek, as if they are dazzling gems assembled from sorrow and agony, displayed under the watchful gaze of the moon.

Your mother frantically wiped glistening tears that threatened to damp the wooden floor. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.” Her voice was shaky, as she brought you into a hug, hands lightly patting your back to calm you down. “It’s just-, because this is a curse, dear. People who are unique like you, once revealed their abilities to others, are considered and reported as monsters. Then, they’re taken to a place, far, far away from here, and they’ll never return. No matter how long you wait for them, they’ll never come back. So, be a good child, and promise me? For your mommy?.”

You nuzzled into her neck, suspending your cry, soaking the patched and washed out fabric.

“Yes, mom.”

Taking notice of your hesitation and uneasiness, Fyodor shifts to the side, patting the area beside him, signaling for you to sit down.

“It’s fine, you don’t need to tell me if you want to. But why are you here?” You seem to be relieved by his words, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“I heard you can read!” You beamed at him.

As you drown Fyodor with bazillion questions, eyes sparkling with curiosity, he figured another presence wouldn’t be so bad afterall.

And that is the start of your unusual friendship.

A/N: This is Fyodor when he discovered there's a voice in his head:

#bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor x reader #fyodor x y/n #thoughts on sleepless nights #childhood friend au🍉

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stardew-otter · 2 years

Text

Stardew Valley Incorrect Quotes: Part 1

•─────✧─────•

Sebastian: Would you guys still love me if I were a frog?

Abigail: What kind of question is tha-

Sam: Yes. No hesitation, Yes. I'd build you a little terrarium to keep you in, and Abigail will get you food

Abigail: I never said-

Sam: You'll get him food and pretty moss

Sebastian: ° - °

─────────────────────

Harvey: Have you been drinking enough water?

Elliott: Yes, I drink several glasses of sea water every day! I've heard it help with clearing up skin

Harvey, panicked and in shock: S- Sea water-

─────────────────────

Marnie: Shane, why does Matilda have a bedazzled beer cans covering her horns?

Shane looking down as Jas: Why does Matilda have bedazzled beer cans on her horns?

Jas: She wants to be pretty!

Shane: Because she wants to be pretty.

─────────────────────

Alex: Bro! Go long!

Vincent: Wait wha- *gets a football to the face*

─────────────────────

Evelyn: Mayor Lewis, I made a few too many cookies in last night batch so I brought you a container. I hope you enjoy them :)

Mayor Lewis already taking a cookie: Why thank you Evelyn! I bet these taste-

Mayor Lewis, struggling to not spit: Um, these taste... different... from usual... did you try a new recipe?

Evelyn: Why yes! I used salt instead of sugar.

Farmer, who told Evelyn about the gold statue and is watching from afar: >:)

─────────────────────

Leah: Hey, what are you reading?

Emily: This is my magical book, where any ink spilled shows a passage of the future. However it bears a curse making it broken, and in order to make any passageway appears I have to do it myself.

Leah: Impressive! Where did you get it?

Haley: It's just a notebook

Emily: Yeah it's just a notebook ^^;

Leah: Oh-

─────────────────────

Harvey: So, explain why you're here?

Farmer, who is bleeding out and on the verge of death: Flying lizards. ANGRY flying lizards.

─────────────────────

Clint, holding a picture of Emily: She will be mine

Clint: *licks the photo and slaps it on his face*

Farmer, who just wanted to process some geodes: D:,'

─────────────────────

Elliott: *stands in the middle of the sea wearing all of his clothing like a mad man*

•─────✧─────•

Uh, request if you want to see more Incorrect quotes of scenario \_[° - °]_/

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salamandergoo · 24 days

Text

Flames & Asphodel & Elysium & Love

Written for the @strangerthingswritersguild April Fools Day exchange! This was written for @blaqcats-fics using the prompt “Hades/Persephone Retelling with Hades!Eddie and Persephone!Steve, but has like badass bringer of death vibes for Steve.” I hope I brought the badass vibes for Steve lol

Link to ao3

Steve reached out a hand towards a rotting tree and brushed his fingers over the mushrooms growing out of the decaying bark. The tree was long dead, it was a home for insects and fungus. But he knew it had been a home for far longer, the remnants of a birds’ nest in the branches above his head, a hollow containing left behind acorns in the trunk. Even from a sapling it had provided leaves for other creatures. There was a certain nobility to the cycle of life and death. The tree would fall soon, it would decay into the earth and provide nutrients to the plants that would grow from the soil under his feet. It was… “beautiful,” he whispered.

“A dying tree?”

Steve jumped, turning to face the voice. There was a crack in the ground and a figure sitting on the edge of it, watching with intense eyes. “It’s not dying. It’s already dead.”

“…right. I hardly think it’s the most beautiful thing in this clearing.” He smirked and…

Oh, he was flirting. And oh, Steve kind of liked it. “Look closer.” He held out a hand to the stranger and lifted him to stand. “Look at the moss. The mushrooms. The grubs and beetles. When this falls, it will protect salamanders and snakes. It died, yes, but it has yet to fulfill the entirety of its purpose. What could be more beautiful than that?”

The stranger started a moment longer before his expression turned to a wide grin. “You are Persephone. Quite passionate about death, I see.”

Steve’s nose scrunched. “Yes, but please. Call me Steve.” He sighed and looked back at the mossy patch right at eye level for a moment. “Of course I am passionate about death. Life relies on it. It’s everything.” He turned away fully and sighed. “You are…?”

“Hades. But I have a feeling we’ll get a little more cozy, so you can call me Eddie instead.” He rose to his feet and his curls settled on his shoulders after he shook them out. Steve wanted to reach out and touch, arrange his hair artfully to frame his face. He wondered if it was softer than it looked or if it was rigid and unkempt.

“Oh, you assume we’ll see more of each other?”

“A god can only hope.” Eddie gave a sweeping bow and reached out to take Steve’s hand. He looked up through his eyelashes and brushed his lips to Steve’s knuckles. Steve’s heart jumped like he’d been struck by one of Zeus’ lightning bolts.

“I see.” He didn’t want to seem too charmed, not yet. “I think you only like me for my fascination with decay,” he teased. “I am hardly interesting beyond that, especially to a god of such status.”

“And what is it that makes you think I could possibly be uninterested in a beauty like yourself?”

“You are the ruler of the Underworld, an entire realm. Compared to that, am I not… inconsequential?”

“Far from inconsequential my darling,” he purred. “Without death, my realm is inconsequential. Without spring, the fields would not be sown. You are far too important to mortals to even consider yourself inconsequential. You might be everything.”

“Everything?” Steve laughed and covered his mouth to attempt to hide his blush. “You are too much. Too kind, I would think.”

“Too kind? Too kind, he says.” Eddie chuckled, low and warm and it made Steve’s belly feel like a torch in a temple. “I have never been accused of being too kind, neither by mortal or god. I should think you are the kind one.” He looked around the small clearing, grimacing at the dead deer laying just beyond the tree line. “Is there beauty in that too?”

“Of course. Life is cyclical. While the deer’s life is over, it will feed creatures of the woods and sky. It is a home for flies and a feast for vultures. And they too, will meet their end eventually. But we get to observe life over and over again.” Steve’s eyes sparkled as he gazed at the deer and then up at the tree again. “Life is a beautiful thing.”

“I suppose it is.” Eddie was looking right at Steve. “Say, have you ever been to the Underworld? I think I would like to show you what comes after for the mortals.”

“You think?” Steve held out his hand for Eddie to take. “I suppose a look wouldn’t hurt.” He wasn’t smiling. At least, he was trying not to smile. He allowed Eddie to lead him towards the large break in the earth and peered down warily. He couldn’t see much, just the distant flickering of flame. “Are you sure this is safe?”

“Trust me, gorgeous.” Eddie took Steve’s other hand, back to the break. “Just look in my eyes and you’ll be okay.” He took a breath and then yanked Steve forward, pressing their bodies together. Steve stared into his eyes and could hear the way the earth sealed itself above them, could feel hot air rising up as they fell, faster and faster until they stopped.

His feet touched rocky ground and he could hear something panting behind him. Something wet touched the back of his neck and he yelped as he let go of Eddie’s hands and turned around. A great beast stood before him, three pairs of eyes staring and three noses sniffing the air. “Hello there.” He held out a hand and touched the wet nose of the middle head. It sniffed more intensely for a moment before bowing submissively. “Oh, hello.” Steve couldn’t hold back his giggle as he pet soft our, scratching up towards the large pointed ears. “Beautiful…”

“That’s Ozzy.” Eddie grinned and scratched one of the ears. “And these are Judas,” he pointed to the head on the left. “And Maiden.”

“Maiden?”

“Yup.” Eddie opened his arms and grinned as Maiden leaned in and sniffed him. The heads were each as large as Eddie’s torso, but the beast was gentle with him, even with three mouths of sharp teeth and razor-like claws.

“Ozzy,” Steve murmured, grinning when the wet nose pressed against his cheek. “And what does this baby… these babies do?”

“Cerberus is a guardian. Souls try to escape and wannabe heroes try to come and ‘rescue’ them. Cerberus helps keep order. Three heads are better than one, isn’t that right baby?” he cooed to the dog. His massive tail wagged, thudding against the stony ground.

“This is the great Cerberus? I thought he would be… scarier.”

“To mortals, he is terrifying. But he is a sweet boy at his core. He just has to do his job.” Eddie stepped back and wiped drool off his robes. “There is still much to see.”

“I hope everything else is half as exciting as Cerberus.” Steve waved to the beast with a soft laugh. “He is very sweet.”

“The sweetest.” Eddie took Steve’s hand again to lead the way. He was sure footed and almost seemed to glide through his realm, it was like it existed just for him.

Steve supposed it sort of did. Zeus had control of the skies and Poseidon ruled the seas. And Eddie had the Underworld with its rocky ceiling seeming as far away as the sky felt from earth. He’d expected Hellfire and dank air and the screams of the damned, but it was sort of like a well lit cave.

Until they came to a river of fire. “Huh.” He crouched down and reached out to touch the flames. Were he mortal, he’d be burned to the bone in hardly a second, but it was just a tickle to his godly skin. “Wow… nothing lives in there?”

“It leads the way to the deepest pits of the Underworld. For the worst of the mortals, they must traverse through the Phlegethon to reach their eternal punishment. Of course, I don’t dole out the punishments, I simply oversee the order of things.”

“No,” Steve agreed. “You are no master of death.” He rose to his feet and considered Eddie a moment. “Death is not your domain.” He grinned. “It is mine.”

“Harmony.” Eddie offered his hand again and Steve, again, accepted. He liked holding Eddie’s hand. Liked being guided like this. “Without you, my domain does not exist, without my domain, there is no place for souls to continue to. We balance each other, Stevie.”

“I suppose we do.” He walked along the edge of the river, the heat of the flames dying down as they continued further away. Clear water ran near his feet as they entered beautiful fields, full of grass and flowers. Souls milled about, but Steve was more interested in the flowers. “Asphodel?”

“Yeah. This is where most souls come. Those who were not cruel but not exceedingly exceptional. There is peace here.” He began to gather stalks of the flowers and weave them with deft fingers as Steve watched. “The mortals will lay these at the resting place of their loved ones on earth. I think there’s a beauty in it, don’t you?” His tongue poked out as he tied the flowers into a sort of crown.

Steve smiled and reached out, cupping his hands against the flowers. They grew brighter at his touch, bloomed fully and seemed to stand out among the other white flowers. “Yeah. There truly is.”

Eddie reached out to gently lay the crown on Steve’s head. “Come, I’ll show you where the exceptional go. The ones who did the most for the gods and their fellow man. Heroes of legend and the chosen of the mortals.”

Steve’s face felt warm as a late spring’s day as he followed Eddie. He liked the Asphodel crown more than anything he’d ever worn, he thought. It had been crafted by Eddie’s hands, made of something from his realm. He found himself appreciating the realm a little more with each step that he took. He knew death. He knew it well, like a friend. But he’d never seen what came next, had only heard stories.

And he could see the seed of truth in many of those stories, but they failed to mention the good. The way Eddie’s smile lit up his eyes, the way he showed so much care for all that he was surrounded by. Steve even felt cared for by the lilt in his voice, the way his eyes crinkled when he grinned, the curve of his lips when he smiled. He seemed so genuine.

“Are you lonely?” The question slipped out before Steve could think about asking.

“Lonely? Nah.” Eddie looked over his shoulder. “I’m not alone down here. You haven’t even met the furies yet. Red is a real spitfire, I think you’ll like her. And one of Iris’ children is totally infatuated by her, he brings messages all the time, it’s-“

“You are not alone, I see that.” Steve reached out this time and took Eddie’s hand. “But that does not mean you aren’t lonely. I never see you on Olympus. I rarely hear of gods traversing down here.”

Eddie went quiet as they stepped into a golden field filled with a rainbow of flowers. Steve still preferred the asphodel. “I… have never been asked that.”

“No?”

“No. I guess… I’ve never considered it.”

The air was warm like they were under the sun, but Steve could tell the difference. A mortal likely wouldn’t, but he knew the way the sun felt on his skin. Eddie seemed deep in thought and Steve politely looked away, watched as the souls of mortals and living demigods ran through the fields, all seeming so happy. It was beautiful, but he’d rather follow Eddie than stay there.

“I think I might be,” Eddie confessed, voice almost too quiet to hear. “I rule the Underworld, but have few equals here. Few who would choose to be here.”

“And if… I would choose to be here?” Steve stepped closer until he was face to face with Eddie, almost close enough to feel his breath.

“Why would you?”

“It’s beautiful here. I’ve never seen anything like it, I want to see more, to experience more. Tell me, Eddie, where is your home here?”

Eddie’s pale skin looked warm as he looked away, even with the golden light shining down, the blush was clear to Steve. He liked the way it looked on Eddie, the way he tugged at his hair to try and hide it. “I suppose I should show you.”

He turned away from the fields and Steve took his hand as they walked side by side. The palace was in what Steve assumed was the center of everything. It wasn’t lifeless and empty, it was warm and cluttered and so… beautiful. It felt like Eddie.

“I like it.” He looked around with a smile. It felt like home in some way deep inside of him. In a way his mother’s home in Olympus had never felt.

“You- you do? I mean. You do. Of course you do.” He grinned. “Stevie, listen-“

A knock at the door took their attention. It swung open to reveal Lucas, son of Iris and messenger of the gods. “Oh. Hey, that was… easier than I thought.” He gave an awkward wave.

“Max isn’t here, dude. She’s busy.”

“I’m not here for Max. I have been sent by Zeus.”

“Zeus? The fuck does he want?” Eddie’s face scrunched up. Steve wanted to bite him.

“Steve is being summoned. His mother is looking for him. It’s been a whole thing, we should get going. Steve?”

Steve hesitated, looking at Eddie. “If mother is summoning me, I can’t… I have to go.”

“Will you come back?” Eddie’s voice was soft.

“I want to. I do, I want to stay here with you, but I can’t ignore a summons. I don’t know what mother would do, what Zeus would do. I can’t do that to Lucas, he’s-“

“A good kid, I know.” Eddie sighed. “Just wait here. I’ll be right back.” He turned and hurried deeper into the palace.

“…so, Max?”

Lucas looked away, tugging at his robes. “I’ve only met her a few times. In passing. I’m not- it’s not a thing.” He cleared his throat. “…Eddie?”

“Might be a thing. Not sure yet.”

“Huh. That’s cool, man.” He nodded. Another few moments passed in awkward silence. “Is he coming back…? Should we… leave?”

“No, no, he said he’d be back.”

“Cool. Cool.” He rocked on his feet.

Steve breathed a sigh of relief when Eddie came hurrying back. “Sorry, sorry, couldn’t find this, had to look.” He held up a pomegranate, sliced in half.

“Oh.” Steve’s eyes went wide. He knew that eating food in the Underworld bound you there. Everyone knew that, mortals and gods alike.

“You don’t have to, but… this would make certain that you would return to me.”

Steve held out his hands and accepted the pomegranate, digging his fingers into the fruit to remove several seeds. “I will return to you.” He leaned in and pressed a delicate kiss to Eddie’s lips and shoved the pomegranate back into his hands. “I will come back.”

He lifted his hand to his mouth and bit down on several seeds, fingertips sticky with red juice. He could feel them in his gut upon swallowing. “I will see you soon,” Eddie murmured as Steve walked away with Lucas.

On the way back to the peak of Olympus, Steve could taste Eddie and pomegranate on his tongue.

#stranger things #steddie #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #Persephone and Hades

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asa-writes · 1 year

Text

Asa’s Masterlist

Because my Fics and Oneshots got buried in my main account (@asa-do-your-thing) I have started this account for easier access.

My requests are open for fics atm.

Please check this post for who I write for, my rules and further info :)

House of the Dragon

The Shadows of The Lost Court - Dark!Aemond x F!OC

He was closing in on her. The staircase seemed to be miles away, yet still, she pushed herself away from the moss-covered stones and cautiously started walking. Elisabeth grunted, her legs burning. It was as if she was walking against a current of water, one that swept her slowly closer to him. She stepped over a rotting tapestry and tightly clung onto the handrail of the staircase.

Why would The Stranger think of me like that? Is it time for me to… die?

Created for @hotd-bigbang and artwork made by @nyctophilic0vitnir

Princess of Sorrows - Aemond Targaryen x F!OC

Aemond falls in love with a ghost. Requested by @hieronymph

My Marble Statue - Otto Hightower x F!Reader

Otto with a corruption kink... gets, well, fucked. Requested by Anon.

Rest Your Love on Me - Alicent Hightower x F!Reader

Alicent rediscovers her lust for women when Helaena gets a new lady-in-waiting. Requested by Anon.

Faileas - Cregan Stark x F!Reader

You went into the forest to pray against a marriage and it did not quite go to plan.

thinking about sucking dick and cock at the birthday dinner - Aegon / Aemond / Jace

Asa’s Shufle x HOTD Part 1

Asa’s Shuffle x HOTD Part 2 NSFW edition

Asa’s Shuffle x HOTD Part 3 Summer Edition

Headaches - Aegon x F!Reader

You are called in to help the Prince with his headache.

Fresh Face at Court - Aemond x F!Reader

Prince Aemond catches you reading sordid literature.

Aemond x F!Reader at the ice cream parlour drabble

The Last Kingdom

An Eye for an Eye - Osferth x F!OC

Part 1 ¦ Part 2 ¦ Part 3 ¦ Part 4 ¦

On Ao3

Osferth's life changes when he meets Aemma, the alehouse owner's daughter. Their encounter sparks an unexpected love that binds them together in a shared destiny. Amidst a Dane invasion threatening Wessex and Mercia, they join Uhtred and friends, embarking on a perilous journey. Their love becomes their strength amidst chaos, but as they face danger and hardships, they question if their devotion can withstand the challenges ahead.

Game of Thrones / ASOIAF

Dreams - Jon x F!OC / Robb x F!OC

Masterlist

On Ao3

“My Sweet” - Robb x Lucie Templeton

They all need each other, though each in their own seperate way. Growing up and loving in times of war isn't easy at all. Especially when you have to fight for the lives of the people you thought you loved - when you have to abandon everything for the greater good, when you have to choose between sexual, familiar and romantic love.

The rainbow trout - Robb Stark x Frey Reader

The Maiden’s Voyage

Chapter 1: Yara Greyjoy x F!OC

Vikings

The Whisper in the Fog

Part 1 ¦ Part 2

Being a normal girl on her normal farmstead, living a normal, quiet life was all that Asa had wanted. What could happen? Well, Hvitserk and his ever-so jealous brother Ivar might just almost divide Kattegat and murder some people to get her to marry her. But then again, wasn't that normal?

The Hunt - Sigurd x F!Reader

Bridgerton

Aphrodite of Old Hall - Anthony x F!OC / Benedict x F!OC

Wattpad Story

Part 1 ¦ Part 2 ¦ Part 3 ¦ Part 4 ¦ Part 5 ¦ Part 6 ¦ Part 7 ¦ Part 8 ¦ Part 9 ¦ Part 10 ¦ Part 11 ¦ Part 12 ¦ Part 13 ¦ Part 14

1814 - Lady Elisabeth de Gressy arrives in London shortly before the social season starts, sponsored by her older Brother, the Earl of Brenton. Her talents, maturity and her language skills set her up to be the season's incomparable... and, if she's lucky, to become a Bridgerton.

Love, Betrayal, Lust and Betrothal... May god have mercy on the Ton; this one is as salacious as it gets. => FINISHED!

Baldur’s Gate 3

Among the ferns - Halsin x F!Reader

Halsin is shocked when he finds out that Tav has never had sex before.

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nilsavatar · 8 months

Text

PHOENIX | 3. UNIL

Unil: ['u.nil] dream All credits for adult Neteyam go to @cinetrix

Status: CHAPTER 3 (3/?)

Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 4

Parings: Neteyam x Fem!UnknownOriginsNa’vi!Reader

Genre/Warnings: ANGST, sorrow, mentions of nearly death, romance, adventure, soulmate love, destined lovers, possible suggestive content NSFW/MDNI later on, no use of Y/N, clans never seen in films yet. All characters are AGED-UP.

Summary: During the battle with the SeaDragon, gunfire struck Neteyam’s heart. A mortal wound that heals itself under the astonished eyes of his brother, as if the Great Mother still did not want him with her. She has other plans for Toruk Makto's eldest son. Nevertheless, his body is weak, and he falls into a slumber from which he can no longer wake up. His vital signs are stable, yet Neteyam is slowly slipping away. He is waiting. Waiting for the girl who has been appearing in his dreams since he went into a coma.

Chapter Summary: The Festival of Lights was approaching. It was a time of gladness for the Tawkami, the most anticipated celebration of the year. As the panopyras reached their peak and spores invaded the forest, love bloomed in the air. The perfect opportunity to confess one's feelings. At such an idyllic moment, the incipit of an upheaval began to make its way into Mi'niri's heart. Starting with her dreams.

Little note: OMG! This was the most nerve-wracking chapter I have ever done. A nightmare from start to finish, it never seemed to reach the light at the end of the tunnel. I rewrote it so many times, yet it never seemed good enough, and the editing was exhausting. I would add pieces, then take them out, then add them back in. As time passed, the frustration increased, and I knew there were people who were waiting for the update but whom I didn't want to disappoint. So I hope with all my heart that this endless wait was worth it. Thank you so so much🥰

If you want to be tagged in the next chapters, please just write it in the comments. I’ll gladly add y'all💕

Word Count: 9.5k

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3. UNIL

“Look at her and her odd mount. They're not like us.” “She’s been rejected by her own parents, as it has been from the forest.”

The day it all began, the sky was a brilliant blue, with a few wispy clouds threatening to mar the otherwise perfect morning. Alpha Centauri’s gentleness cast a beautiful interplay of light and shadow on the jungle floor, adding an ethereal quality to the forest. Its timid warmth teased her skin as she sprinted to escape the vile draught that swept over her as soon as she had given the viperwolf cubs one last pat.

“Oe zene hivum. Hayalovay, nantangtsyìp. Makto zong.” (I must go. Until next time, puppies. Take care.)

The forest was a riot of colors: in shades of green, yellow, and brown. The clearing was rife with the scent of fallen leaves, which had littered the ground until forming small clusters around the mammoth trunk barks covered with mosses, lichens, and meandering creepers. She heard their crunch beneath her feet as she rushed through the damp soil.

The chill of the previous night’s downpour seemed to cling to her skin, every movement sending shivers down her spine. And the tension in her tired muscles mingled with the blood pounding in her ears. She adjusted her bow and increased her pace, peering at the blanket of grey-white clouds blocking the shy dawn’s pinkish glow. A few of its rays challenged the dome-shaped cumulus, rapidly growing to form a compact body, presaging dismal, harsh weather.

Get a move on, she admonished herself to run faster. Time was running out. She was almost at her destination and adamant not to get caught in the rain so close to her goal, no matter what. It lay just beyond the bend. A little rain wouldn’t deter her. Her pulse raced in time with the frenetic pace of her strides, occasionally stumbling under the bow’s weight that did not stay in rhythm.

A few lone drops plummeted innocently, in the distance already reverberated the faint echoes of the impending storm. Loud enough to overpower the agitated voices and scurrying of the prolemuris rushing for cover.

The monsoon season had begun. Who knows whether the viperwolf pack had found refuge? Were the puppies safe and sound in the warmth?

Freeing her shoulders from the bow’s string that crossed her chest, she smoothed the fringes of woven fabric that veiled her breasts and anchored to her biceps. Her ample neckline, adorned with minuscule bronze beads, flaunted a prominent teal stone that hung beautifully from her slender neck. Tiny fragments bedecked the middle of her top, resting gingerly on the sternum. A delicate repetition of the masterpiece.

With a snort, she lit a small fire and cleaned herself up at the underground spring at the back of the cavern. She revived her auburn hair and inspected herself from head to toe in the mirror of water, still not entirely used to those new accessories. They suited her, she had to admit. Gave her a much more mature, more adult air. Gifts from Kiokä to congratulate on completing the rituals.

Maybe I shouldn’t have accepted them, she told herself, fearing it might give the wrong ideas.

“Without the chief’s son tag, I’d be a jeweler. I'm always on the lookout for the weirdest materials to create something new. When I see objects others might think are just a leaf or rock, my mind starts drawing.” He scratched his throat. “You pop up in my mind in those situations. I picture you wearing the final product every single time. You are my muse.”

She definitely shouldn’t have accepted them... As she enjoyed the tickle of the water, she heard footsteps approaching. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a figure darting through the shadows, a large dagger in one hand and a strange contraption in the other. “Why's it not working?” he muttered. Without a second thought, Mi’niri ducked to the ground, yanking the weapon she wore at her loincloth, ready to defend herself. The boy dropped the knife and raised both arms above his head. “Mawey, mawey. Didn't mean to scare you,” he said, all worked up. “I got caught in the storm.” Now that she looked better, she could see his shins covered with dirt and small leaves, feet blackened by mud. “My bad didn’t know this place was already taken.”

Her pearly inquiring eyes darted over him, scanning every detail of his singular appearance. On the beaded choker that covered a solid portion of his neck, the midsection of which caught up towards his chest, then on the cuff that encircled his deltoid. Both objects were crafted using a technique she had never seen before, leaving her in awe. “You’re Omatikaya,” she stoned, giving him one last look before putting the knife back. The cummerbund he wore was an intricate weave of colors that could only belong to the Blue Flute, symbolizing his unwavering loyalty. The cornerstone of the clan's beliefs and practices. A gift to warriors who passed the Uniltaron (Dream Hunt). “You’re quite far from home.” ”Frankly, I have no clue how I ended up here. I was flying my ikran, but I must have fallen off. Even if I have no idea how. Never happened to me," he said and left it at that before asking: “And you?” “Me?” She arched an eyebrow. “What’s your clan? I’ve never seen Na’vi like you.” Embarrassment washed over her, and she couldn't help but blush as she looked down. There really was no end to it all. “Tawkami”. Her voice faded, and he found it difficult to comprehend her hushed words, now barely above a whisper. Despite cursing himself for making things awkward, he couldn't help but admire her beauty as she blushed. Eywa's handiwork.

What are you doing here in the woods, by yourself?” he questioned as he sat down. She wasn't sure what sort of answer he expected, or why she felt compelled to be friendly with him, to be fair. He was a complete stranger. “My usual - exploring, playing with animals.” “Playing with animals? Do you do it on the regular?” "Whenever I can. I enjoy being in their company.” Intrigued by her response, he hummed a tune under his breath. To him, the forest was a stunning ecosystem best experienced from a distance. Beyond one's line of vision, dangers lurked in every direction. Being part of this triumphant circle meant it had a hand in the clan's survival, providing them with shelter and sustenance. However, he much preferred to appreciate its true scale and magnificence from atop his ikran. To soar above the treetops with a bird’s-eye view of the dark, luxuriant foliage below, stretching out before him, revealing its secrets. Viewing it from the ground just wasn’t the same - it did not give the same feeling of freedom and relief as the sky. A safer, clearer place compared to the damp and musty forest floor, with its uneven terrain and hidden traps. Mi’niri resisted the urge to ask him what his indistinct hum meant. Silence descended on the pair, and she savored the placid expression on the young man’s face. He made eye contact with her, but it was brief as she immediately averted her eyes. They chattered about anything and everything until a distant murmur rang through the cave's mouth and silenced them, rising in sound. “They’re calling for you”. Strangely, he didn’t want her to walk off, but he knew he couldn't prevent it. She had to wake up, eventually. “Take care,” he said, with a pit in his stomach. She beamed at him, “You too”. When she smiled, he saw a glimpse of her true personality shine through. Her smile was warm and inviting. He found himself looking forward to seeing it again, as he decided he liked her smiling face.

She drowsily opened her eyes, taking a moment to register her surroundings before realizing a blurry figure was shaking her. “Niri. Niri, wake up,” was her father’s voice, “Selyao’s out here.” “What?” she asked groggily. Sílron’zem sneered, “You forgot about the Festival of Lights already? You’re supposed to help her.”

Shit.

As they walked among the groups of clan mates, her attention was split between her friend and their chores. They chatted and laughed together, enjoying that festive and cheerful moment - an occasion dear to the Tawkami.

The Festival of Lights was held once a year, when the panopyra stem's tips lit up, creating a hypnotizing bloom that lured in the spores of its fellows. An auspicious time when young Na’vi seeking a mate wore such tips as an attractant and aphrodisiac. A demonstration of one’s intentions. Couples exchanged garlands to express their love as a symbol of unity before the People. Traditionally, wedding ceremonies take place during this season.

Selyao's eyes roamed over, searching for a cozy spot to settle down. Meanwhile, she babbled animatedly about how her parents insisted she finds a mate now that her age allowed so she could fulfill her role within the clan. “Do they even realize I’m just in my early twenties?” she lamented. “They’re like, ‘If you don’t find one on your own, we’ll set one up for you’. Can’t believe how outdated they are!” A mumbling escaped Mi’niri’s lips just to feign involvement in the conversation. She assumed she was doing a decent job, thanks to nods of the head interspersed with a few monosyllables when required. When a break in her soliloquy called for them.

“Don’t get me wrong, I'm single and ready to mingle. I wanna fall head over heels. I'm just not ready to be tied down. Not gonna close any doors just yet. I mean, what if I screw up and pick the wrong one? What if we don't click? I gotta be absolutely positive before making the biggest decision in my life.” “Same here.” “I need to find someone for the Festival, anyway. Just to get them off my back for a bit,” she grunted in frustration.

As much as she sympathized with her, that situation was utterly unfamiliar to Mi’niri. Their parents couldn’t have been more at odds. The firsts were traditionalists, strict, unaware of their daughter's rebellious spirit. She regularly indulged in clandestine liaisons that often overlooked chastity. The others, instead, adopted a warm and modern approach, built on communication and trust with their daughter. And above all, on a total acceptance of the nature that characterized each family member. They would never have imposed a man on Mi’niri against her will, nor would they have pushed her to embark on a path she hadn't chosen for herself.

Normally, she would have been more active in the discussion, striving to be a good friend and give her the support she needed. But that afternoon, she was elsewhere. Scattered among the little fragments of the dream whenever she allowed her mind to wander. So crystal clear and palpable she couldn’t shake the feeling even after waking up. Lucid. Almost as if it could be mistaken for a memory that she could reach out and touch. She still seemed to smell the musky aroma of his skin, perfumed by the damp veil of rain. Strong, earthy notes spiced the air creating a pleasant fragrance all around. If she had squinted her eyelids and inhaled hard, she would have been able to visualize his slender, tall figure. It almost felt like she was living it all over again. The sinews tugged on his trained muscles. The glint of bewilderment in his beautiful golden eyes. The tepid breath blown against her neck when he'd sat at her side.

That was just the beginning of a succession of dreams she met him in. No matter how much the scenarios changed, he remained a constant. So much so that by now, when she went to bed, she expected to find him. Nonetheless, it was the first one that stuck in her mind. Like when Dewram came into her life, the same destabilizing feeling resurfaced. Nagging and impossible to shake off. Like a stubborn dark cloud that refused to move, her worries congested her thoughts.

“Mawey.”

A chill ran down her spine as she craned her neck towards the dense wall of trees and listened for any sounds. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, her heart racing. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching her. Searching for any sign of movement, she scanned the vegetation in a frenzy, and the other girl could sense her tension mounting. ” Why so serious?” With a playful smile, Selyao leaned forward and waved a dancing attire, enjoying the jingle of the hems. Her sly grin only intensified as she met Mi’niri’s glare, and she tilted her head; eyes sparkling mischievously. It was roughly contagious, and she had to bite her lip to keep from smiling. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she mumbled, reluctantly grabbing the fabric. “Do we really have to do this?” Selyao gave her an eloquent look. “We gotta make use of all this beauty, don’t we?” Her razor-sharp sarcasm was often ambiguous. Determining the subtle boundary between simple lightheartedness and cloaked earnestness was no mean feat. Especially in recent times, it has been veering towards the latter. The barbs had been getting more and more stinging and poisoned ever since a certain Na’vi had taken to circling Mi’niri like a bee around a flower. “Eywa blessed us with this too. Taking part in the honorary dances is a way to show gratitude.”

Mi’niri batted her lashes. The way her eyes crinkled at the corners said everything she needed to know. “What didn't you like about my speech? Honoring Nawna Sa’nok or just acknowledging you’re a stunner?” She was actually having fun pretending to be understanding. “We're friends. Your job is to boost my self-esteem.” “You're only friend,” she corrected her. “And no. My job is to tell you like it is. Flattering you be that of your muntxa (mate).” Talk about a deadly stare... “Well? Nobody wants to be alone forever.” “Sel, I don’t —. ” “I don’t get that kind of attention,” she aped her voice. “You don’t, huh? If you weren’t so elusive, you’d realize otherwise. Raso, ‘Ipäe, Eyrep - she listed - ... Kiokä.” Mi’niri’s lips twisted in disdain at the mention. “I don't get what the issue is. He’s the dream guy - good-looking, kind, and respectful, pampers you with gifts fit for royalty.”

If only she had the slightest idea about the boy in her dreams.

“And, oh yeah, he’s the Olo’eyktan’s son. I mean, he's the perfect fit. Actually, he’s more than perfect. He’s amazing.” “You hit the nail on the head! He's the Olo’eyktan’s son. He wants to be sure he's next in line.”

The people chattering was so loud she could barely hear herself think. Whispers that her ears screened out. People had mixed reactions to her parents. Some felt sorry for them, while others admired their resilience. Yet, all universally agreed the Olo'eyktan would make her his heir instead of his own son and betroth them at the Annual Festival of Lights. “Look at her and her odd mount. They’re not like us.” “She’s been rejected by her own parents, as it has been from the forest.”

Faced with the possibility of losing his birthright, Kiokä surprised many by remaining calm and composed. But just as Mi’niri did not possess the skills to follow in her parents’ footsteps, Kiokä couldn’t lead the people. He didn’t have the fundamental charisma of a leader, nor did he summon the innate respect the girl exuded at the mere sway of her hips as she walked. She had a confident posture, back straight and head high, as she strolled among the people. The same proud look of the slinth that accompanied her like a shadow.

Oh, how Kiokä adored seeing her gait, especially when in front of him. It enchanted him how the flowers she wore seemed to be a part of her, with their stems intertwining all over her body. They twisted and turned around her narrow waist, down her legs and arms. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as if entranced. Dewram’s striking colors accentuated the achromasia of her complexion. That very light grey that so lovingly clashed amidst the mass of blue bodies. But what indeed made her distinctive was the cascading, wavy copper-red hair that tumbled down her back. The ends about caressing the base of her slender tail. Not to mention those large opalescent eyes with a few hints of pale magenta around the pupil. Often her expression was stony. The slight disproportion of her bud lips gave her a pouty look that suited her damn well, though never as much as her occasional smile. Usually sketchy, but enough to grant her face a fresh gleam.

How he wanted to make her laugh. Watch her mouth open in the widest of smiles. Wait for that hint of light to explode into her eyes. See the mask of the unreachable Olo’eykte yield and tell himself that he caused it.

Yes, he wouldn’t have minded at all finding out that the rumors were true, because he was already hopelessly infatuated with her. How could he not be? Mi’niri was everything an ordinary Tawkami girl wasn’t. One of a kind. Perfect in her diversity. And if they weren’t, he would make them come true. He would reveal his intentions at the Festival of Lights, officially court her, and lead the clan to success together. Peace and prosperity as foretold. He could already picture her dressed in the most glittering ceremonial accouterments, standing under the purple glow of the village giant tawtsngal, as she recited her promises in a newfound shyness. He would love and cherish her, care for her forever.

What he could not foresee, however, was that Nawna Sa’nok’s plans differed from his own.

“Niri... Don’t listen to those stupid rumors. Sure, no one deserves the title more than you. You are Txumre’ Makto! But you passed Iknimaya long ago. If that was their plan, they would have told you. Besides, Kiokä loves you. He's been hanging onto your every word since we were kids.” “Whatever.” “Well, well, well, look who's coming this way,” she said under her breath. A subtle smile surfaced on her plump lips.

Mi’niri turned. A calm expression masked the inner storm within her, only to see Kiokä stomping resolutely down the path leading to the clearing. As their eyes locked, she could sense jitters that took her aback; it was strange to see him so... nervous? Yet he stood tall in front of them. Even though he looked intimidated, his towering presence made him stand out, thanks to his unwavering determination. The unrelenting sun beamed straight into his face, showing off his impatience with an unmistakable smirk he couldn’t hide. Ironic, given his usual composure.

“Morning, girls. Sel,” he addressed her with a little nod, and then his gaze settled on Mi’niri’s features. The sickly sweet way he pronounced her name was almost enough to make her lose her lunch, but she maintained an indifferent demeanor. “Mind a quick talk?” He extended his hand, but the sly wink that followed made her hesitant to take it. Just like when he offered her the necklace, she felt a sense of discomfort crept up again. What is he up to? She overlooked the prickly sensation on her skin and accepted his hand, letting him guide her through the overgrown thicket. He headed towards the tranquil stream as if he was eager to escape the commotion of the boisterous laughter and prying eyes, the sound of rushing water drowning out the noise of the party preparations. The music was so loud that it made the earth shake beneath her, but eventually, it became nothing more than a faint buzz.

Carefully, he cleared the path of thorns and twigs, ensuring she wouldn't get scratched as if she was made of glass. Kiokä was like that: gentle and well-mannered. However, his mild smile disguised something else that he rarely showed to anyone but her. Something that gave her butterflies in her stomach, but not in a good way. She didn’t strive to be with him at all, but here we were with a hint of nausea gripping the pit of her abdomen.

“Shall we sit?” he smiled lazily, escorting her to a group of rocks outlining the shore. He trailed his hand up her arm, feeling the smoothness of her skin before reaching her shoulder, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Mi'niri gave him a quizzical expression, wondering about the meaning of the gesture, which seemed out of place. The gesture itself didn't bother her much. She wasn’t the kind of person who eschewed physical contact as long as it remained respectful and friendly. Still, the way he had grabbed her, with that firm but caressing and, at times, impudent touch, as if he was trying to communicate something else through his actions, made her terribly aware of their excessive proximity. Something was off in that hesitation to break away, and she could sense his awe. It left her feeling both bewildered and curious.

She couldn’t help but dwell on his effigy. Kiokä was definitely taller than her, with broad shoulders, a solid build, and a sharp facial structure. Although he was an affable and helpful guy, his protruding, gaunt cheekbones, serious expression, and assertive personality gave him an intimidating appearance.

Finally, the boy left her, distancing himself just enough to allow her to breathe normally again.

They exchanged a few curt words before bringing up the real reason he wanted to talk to her.

"I don't even know where to start," he chuckled. His chin resting on the back of his closed-fisted fingers, his head tilted, not missing her single movement. He watched as she hooked one leg over the other and circled her knee with crossed fingers - an obvious position of closure - long locks fell across her chest, reaching her thigh. That uncomfortable feeling of narrowness returned, and, out of nowhere, she felt how much the other’s presence oppressed her. His ego filling all the space in an asphyxiating way.

Mi’niri nervously moistened her suddenly dry lips, wondering if being close to Kiokä had always troubled her this much. Something changed since those uncomfortable rumors had started to circulate. Peeking out, she saw how the boy was staring at her mouth, her throat rising and falling as she swallowed.

“You look superb in this necklace. I knew the stone was meant for you the moment I saw it.” A polite smile soon faded away, when his index finger brushed against the embroidery on her jewelry. Dangerously close to her collarbone skin. She moved away, turning to stare at him. Eyes as sharp as knives flashed in those of the boy, who seemed to read in them all the unease she was feeling. His back straightened, and his honeyed eyes pointed ahead toward the river. He clutched the bag hanging from his tewng guiltily. “Sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable.”

A heavy burden fell on her chest, and her breathing slowed almost to a halt, following the mournful movement with which Kiokä’s gaze fell on his own hands. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought of binding herself inextricably to him. A shiver of horror. She often wondered if the sentiment he repeatedly boasted was authentic or only a mutual sense of obligation that bound them together. An accommodation dictated by loyalty and habit, as well as by a dose of physical attraction that he had never hidden.

His fingers sank into his pouch as he fumbled with something inside. A slight tinkle vibrated in the air with each indolent swing of the ikran claw that served as a pendant, tied to the handle with a sort of plastic-looking cord. His midnight dreadlocks, left loose, framed the increasingly masculine and father-like facial features. By now, very little of Tsahìk could be glimpsed.

The time for confrontation had come, and Mi’niri wasn’t ready at all.

“I reckon something is missing.” “Meaning?” He handed her a bracelet made of the same irregular, polished stones she wore around her neck. And, adding nothing else, fastened it to her wrist, which overlapped with the one she was already wearing. As if to erase the memory of her unknown mother and the dark past that haunted her. "Perfect now," he said, in a depth she didn't expect. His gaze softened with a faint, closed-mouthed smile as he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb, examining how his creation stressed her complexion.

Too bad that adjective didn’t match her personality at all. “What did I do to earn it this time around?” ” Why do I need a reason to give you a gift?” ” That's just how it's been ‘til now - she knew him far too well to be charmed - I'm not buying that your gesture is meaningless.” Nobody does anything for nothing, regardless of the genuineness behind it. Kiokä was no exception. “You just can’t make it easy for me,” he chortled. “I might sound stupid, but you probably know where this is going. Though you want to hear me say it.” Mi’niri stared at him, tired of the back-and-forth. It was time to set the record straight, despite the knowledge that everything would change. That she would lose him. Her defender, her only supporter outside her family. "It's a woo present," he confessed. “Not that the others weren’t, but I let my indecisiveness make you assume they were something else. I can’t keep my feelings for you quiet anymore.” He stared at her for a long minute, taking both her hands in his.

“Oel ngati kameie.”

She shook her head doggedly, reassuring herself that it must have been a terrible misunderstanding, a sick prank. “Believe me, Niri. I see you. I know you don't think highly of yourself. But, Eywa, you know I have done nothing else since we were kids and you were hiding behind your dad's legs,” he said, making her look away. “You got someone to go to the Festival of Lights with?” “You should already know the answer.” He sketched a conciliatory smile, but one that still leaked an aura of triumph, “Come with me” "That's probably not a good idea, Kio," she shrugged and said. She could tell he didn’t agree with her by the deep furrow of his brow. I don't see why it's a big deal to show us together. I don’t expect us to unite by the end of the season. However, I think it’s appropriate to deepen our relationship now that we are grown-ups. Let's take our sweet time to get to know each other better. I'll wait until you're ready to be my Olo’eykte, no matter how long it takes.” “What did you say?” she asked in a whiff. A hiss so close to the threatening sounds Dewram made when someone from outside the Yawäa family approached him; whether it was an elder unaware of his presence or an overly curious child. Always alert. Guardedness and wariness were traits shared by both knight and mount. “That I will wait.” “After that.” “That I wish you to be my Olo’eykte.” His words were meant to be romantic, but to the girl, they confirmed her suspicions. “I don’t think you’re aiming to be Tsahìk any more than I’m aiming to be Olo’eyktan,” he chuckled at his own joke. After all, their clan wasn't so restrictive about the distribution of roles. It had already happened that Olo’eyktan and Tsahìk weren't a mated pair. Here, the only novelty would be a female clan leader. Although it had already occurred in other populations such as among the Ikran People of the Eastern Sea.

“Ah, that's why,” she figured. “You want me to be your mate to escape the burden of being the clan leader but still keep your status? Isn't that what everyone's expecting, anyway? ‘Cause you are the clan prince, and I’m Txumre’ Makto. Nothing out of the ordinary. It’s just how things go.” Massaging her forehead, she turned away from him, signaling the end of the conversation on her part. It took Kiokä a few seconds to register the accusation. His thin amber eyes took on the same coldness as resin when it solidifies; encapsulating a poor insect, now mute and still as gems. His eyelids tightened a little, enough to instill some consternation. “What do you mean by that?” The tone was caustic and detached. “That you don’t really want me. You’re doing this for the clan,” she reiterated, unwilling to let herself be frightened and give him up. If he wanted her as a companion, he'd to prove he could stand up to her.

Not that it would have changed anything. She did not reciprocate.

As she considered their friendship over the years, she was transported back to the carefree days of childhood. Whenever she thought of Kiokä, she felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. He’d given her the confidence to face any challenge that came her way. Countless hours had been spent in each other's company, sharing their wildest dreams and ideas about the future. With him, she felt a sense of belonging that she had only ever felt with Selyao. There had been a time when she had tried to convince herself she could grow to love him at one point. She had gazed at him expectantly, hoping to feel a spark that would confirm he was the one, a sign that would confirm he was the missing piece she had been searching for. She had been eagerly anticipating that feeling to develop, so when she noticed a change in how the boy interacted with her, she felt like she was on cloud nine.

Happiness faded away quickly, like a shooting star. It didn't take long for her to understand that the feeling of agitation she experienced in his presence was more unpleasant than she first believed. But Mi’niri silenced the growing annoyance that gradually invaded her. She believed love was a journey, not a destination, something that could be cultivated with time and effort. By focusing on what made her feel good, she could learn to cherish even the most difficult aspects of a relationship. A skill that could be honed like any other.

Alas, it wasn’t so. Nothing about Kiokä could shake her. Not in that way. She cared for him. Admired him. Yet that childlike affection between the two adolescents remained as such: a childhood memory.

“No! My love for you is true, Niri. I’m crazy about you. I never had eyes but for you. Look,” he exposed the songcord hanging from the waistband of his loincloth to the sunlight, taking between his strong fingers a particular bean. She recognized it right away. “It is a fragment of your pendant. When I found it, your face peeped out like a thunderbolt. I added it to my songcord that day, so I’d always remember the moment I met my better half.” “You’re wrong. You only found an illusion.” “Explain yourself,” he demanded. “No use in explaining to ears that won't listen.”

As she crossed the clearing, heavy footsteps heeled her out. She barely had time to register what was happening before she was seized by the wrist, spun around, and slammed into the rough surface of a log. Her head swam with a slight dizziness. “Hey, don’t just walk away. I deserve to know.” His voice leaked a dull pain that made her jerk abruptly, meeting his friend's now furious irises. A distraught gleam flashed in them, in a mix of sadness and anger. The inflection in his voice whipped her like an anvil. And there, trapped between the tree and the man’s chest, Mi’niri could feel his mournful gaze weighing heavily on her. So small and helpless. So guilty. Mi’niri closed her eyes and focused solely on the surrounding sounds, filtering out all the other senses. An unexplained sense of tranquility spread throughout her entire body soon after. She felt it relax along with her lungs, inhaling and exhaling regularly once more. The beating of her heart slowed down into long pulsations, punctuating the flow of her blood through her arteries like a metronome. And the erubescence that had crept up her cheeks subsided, revealing the unflappable nature of her being. The rustling of leaves and chirping of birds. The sound of the nearby stream.

The nearby stream. Kyokä.

As much as she wished the conversation wasn’t happening, the feeling of his hand holding hers kept her present in the moment. Oddly, his touch was somehow reassuring. It gave her the strength to face the situation. She looked at him. The sight of the sun filtering through the trees stressed the start of anxiety making its way across that no longer inscrutable face. Finally, the grip on her wrist loosen as she read the sorrow in his eyes, building like a wave about to engulf them, a looming tsunami.

“Please, Niri!” Hearing his lips murmur that nickname so sadly brought down all her defenses. Vulnerability was the one thing Mi’niri loathed displaying. She bottled up her moods, pushed them back into the furthest corner of her being, where they bubbled and swelled until erupting in a column of gas. Like accumulated hydrogen in a magma chamber. Ash and lapilli, flowing down the destroyed flanks of the caldera, overwhelmed everything that crossed their path, leaving nothing but fertile ground for the new generation of vegetation. An ecosystem that would be wiped out at the next burst.

While she looked past the boy’s shoulder, she struggled to resist the urge to spit out the truth. Don’t answer, she commanded herself, but her tongue was already disobeying. No, I’ll speak my mind once and for all. Even though she didn’t want things to escalate, she had to be honest. She tentatively returned to look at him. His eyes as shiny as gems and as dark as the cloudy sky of the dream where she had met the mysterious Omatikaya. “I don’t feel the same.”

Kiokä was forlorn and unable to find the words to respond, which gave Mi’niri an opening to carry on with her speech. She just had to turn a blind eye to the suffering etched on his face. And what better push than focusing on the clan’s venomous gossip? Their heated voices echoed inside her, reminding her why she was supposed to leave him sitting on the rock alone. Her blood boiled with anger. Her voice was becoming apathetic and detached as she hurled all the pent-up resentment at him.

He did not understand her. He did not see her.

Having a place in the community was something he took for granted. Never knowing what it was like to feel excluded, never experiencing what it meant to not belong. Oblivious to the feeling that comes with putting in effort, only to be seen as an unwelcome outsider. An outcast, a freak with no actual family, no connections to anyone - unquestionably not to the Tawkami clan. Her grey skin a constant reminder that she had to work twice as hard as others just to earn a fraction of what they did. No matter if they respect her and considered her at the extremes of a chosen one, she always sensed a certain detachment behind their friendly smiles. Like an inconvenient relative, an unwanted visitor who refused to leave. The only thing that gave her value in the eyes of the people was Dewram, which was all she really had.

Kiokä couldn’t comprehend the meaning of having nothing to cling onto as an identifier, except one singular thing. The feeling of being lost. The longing for that one thing that would give you a sense of purpose every morning. That one thing that made life worth living. Frustration hit her like a ton of bricks as she realize it wasn’t a new sensation. She couldn’t help but wonder if it had always been there, lurking beneath the surface of their relationship, eating away at their bond. She refused to believe it, but deep down, she knew it had been there all along, slowly tearing them apart. Wished that clinging to what was harmonious in their friendship was enough.

Very little, she should admit.

“And you don’t feel anything either.”

He stood frozen, his arms limp at his sides, powerless against the biting cold of her eyes. Mi’niri seized the opportunity presented by his hesitation to slip out of that position and run away. The vegetation swallowed her up, and she was left alone with the weight of Kiokä's gaze. Heavy and unrelenting. It bore down on her, even as she disappeared into the foliage, piercing her head, but she didn’t give up, zooming even faster toward home. She had to shed those garments that appeared to scorch her, that adornment that appeared to strangle her.

Something slipped along her wrist in her haste. The light thud of the fall muffled by the cushiony grass.

Mi’niri took refuge in the most isolated spot in the clearing, hidden from unwelcome glances. She was sitting on a large root, in the shade of the broad, iridescent eyaye leaves. Shimmering drops of nectar released an enveloping fragrance that invaded the space, spreading in graceful invisible waves with each flick of the foraging birds’ wings. Convinced that she was finally alone, she let out a silent, liberating cry; frustration and suffering now mastered that normally unflappable candied face.

“You look tired.” Someone sat by her side, running his warm palm between her shoulder blades, down her back, and then up the back of her neck, massaging her gently. Strangely, she did not flinch, as if expecting that attention. As if she knew she would find him there. The stranger didn’t speak, said nothing so as not to upset her further, and let her vent. With her, words were often superfluous, creating distance, forcing her to give meaning to an inner flow that she preferred to keep her own; she wasn’t temperamentally inclined to sharing, preferring to handle the emotions she felt in her own way, in the intimacy of herself. Although it was, in most cases, deleterious and exhausting; gripped by regrets, unexpressed desires, and, on this specific occasion, even some remorse.

A feather hovered in the air, gliding lightly in the open palm of the boy. He then turned it over in his fingers, studying its cyan-greenish veins that divided it into tiny sections. A few brown flecks mottled it at the edges, although the fuchsia of the tip was predominant and in sharp contrast to the white of the base. He arranged the stem behind Mi’niri’s ear along with a strand of her hair, exposing the delicate profile of her face, the pale right cheek, and the high cheekbone, accentuating the elongated slit of her eyes. He contemplated how much the feather colors complimented her face.

She was ashamed of her appearance, the mark of an outcast life, but to the boy, it was beautiful. It made her one of a kind. Her complexion could have been even in the humans’ range; in his eyes, Mi’niri would have been the most beautiful girl in Eywa’eveng anyway.

“Eventually, you’ll have to talk about it.”

She looked up at him, her bulbs swollen, flushed, and glowing. A rosy tinge of shame crossed her cheeks and nose, and the young man wondered what the source of that sad expression was. The villainy with which she had pressed Kiokä by venting her dissatisfactions on him? The exposure of his secret love? His gesture?

He smiled at the idea, but it was but a lukewarm smile, a mockery, all too aware that nothing he said or did would have any effect. Kiokä probably could have disappeared, and she would not have noticed.

“I was cruel before,” was the first thing she said since they had reached there, at the foot of that majestic tree, her voice croaking from crying. He could do nothing but sigh, the facts commenting on themselves. “What’s wrong with me?” “Nothing is wrong with you.” “Then why am I like this?”

He hesitated for a moment before answering. But by now, dabbing the wound had become useless. Sometimes you need to leave it open and exposed to the sun for it to heal from the infection. “Because you can’t resign yourself,” he sentenced laconically, “I understand, you know? I’m in the same situation as you,” he sketched a wry grin, “I’ve always let others define me, choose for me. To tell me how I should have been, what I should have done.”

The wrinkled look he gave her was so sad and dark, she felt as if she had looked out into two gloomy mirrored wells that opened a pathway to the depths of the underworld. There was nothing left of his bravado and amusing conceit, not even an iota. They were totally absent in that amber eye. And on that suddenly apathetic face, even the shadow of his usual cheeky, crafty smirk had disappeared. “I had to be shot for them to realize how hard they had been on me.”

Mi’niri winced in pain at that confession and looked away, suddenly exposed, naked. “Did you ever think of telling them?” He chuckled, widening his legs out on the bed of leaves and stretching his body backward to fill himself with the golden warmth of the foliage above their heads. “At least a million times,” he admitted, “Once I even had the urge to rant, amidst everyone, so exhausted was I of shouldering responsibilities that weren't mine. But it probably wouldn’t have changed anything.” The boy blew out a quick sigh as he continued, “I even tried to undertake trainings so heavy that they didn’t give me the material time to look after my brothers. At least I would have the excuse. But my thoughts always came back to them, together with an excruciating guilt. I’m the eldest, it’s my job to stand in for our parents.” “That’s not true. It’s not your place to educate them.”

It wasn’t part of her personality to dispense advice, still, she felt the burden of having to do so; to at least try to console him as he had done with her countless times, including this one. It was funny to talk to each other like that with a stranger whom moreover she met only in her dreams and whose name she did not even know. Confronting each other about the injustices that had plagued them from an early age, as if they had shared them as if they had always been there to back each other up.

“When are you going to tell me who you are?”

He turned again to look at her, the eyes that were staring at her at that moment, and that the faint sunlight filtering through the foliage dotted with golden straws, differed from they had been a moment ago: tremendously confident and determined, the same ones she used to meet. The girl clutched her shoulders, prey to an unmotivated anxiety that sprang directly from her gut, from her core. As if the young man who sat beside her had unexpectedly changed before her without her being able to do anything to prevent it. He looked so different, so adult and distant, yet so close, and for a second he seemed unrecognizable to her. He took her hand and brought it to his chest. When her petite palm collided with his pectoral, she could feel beneath the scar of the gunshot, beneath the warmth of his skin, the accelerated, almost frightened beat of the heart muscle.

“I’m already doing it.”

At those words, Mi’niri clenched her fingers tighter, so tightly that her nails rubbed the outline of the healed wound. And, for an instant, it felt as if she had squeezed his heart for real.

Evening had long since settled over the landscape and it was dark outside. The cooler air of mid-season was surrendering to the more sultry temperatures of early summer. So too was the cyclical pattern of constellations giving way to a less star-laden but brighter sky, thanks to the lengthening days. The celestial vault would have been marvelous had it not been veiled by the shimmering evanescence of the moons; three shining, perfect orbs that flooded the space below with an impalpable, milky glow. A light breeze rustled through the tents, its murmurs humming on the thick rocky walls of the gorge where the village resided. Channeling into the thick valley, it carried in dense sweet whiffs the scent of the panopyras - now in full bloom. In the distance, the muted crackling of tree branches brushing against each other and the faint swaying of lianas could be heard. Sounds that mingled with the rustling of the lanterns that decorated the winding lanes - already installed for the festival that was to be held soon, and which this year would have an even more bitter taste for Mi’niri.

Ideal weather for a night hike, she thought, hugging herself in her shawl as she crossed the silent, sleepy path. There was only a candle to light it; the flame flickered with each step of the girl, illuminating her diaphanous face with a faint, warm light and casting eerie shadows on the ground. Mi’niri barely glanced at them, a shiver slipping down her spine as darkness threatened to engulf everything. She had a very bad feeling.

She looked around one last time, on the alert, before peeling back the drape that served as a door, as if something was watching her intently. A nocturnal predator ready to ambush her. But even after entering the tent and closing the drape behind her, she couldn’t allow herself to feel relieved.

It was never a good sign to be summoned by the Olo’eyktan. Especially at that hour. Whatever he wanted to tell her, whatever he wanted to order her to do, was not to be overheard by prying ears.

“I've been watching her for three years,” she heard the clan leader’s unmistakable voice mutter, “She, and that beast of hers that always accompanies her.”

Dewran, she corrected him, refusing to speak, to disrespect the man who so often sinned the same error against her brother in spirit. She saw it in the way she watched him walk by her side when they passed. The same eyes the people reserved for her, burning into her like slow-flowing lava on the slopes of a volcano. The strange orphan of mysterious origins.

The first Txumre’ Makto in history. Someone fearsome, whose opinion could change the fate of many. ‘For it was Eywa’s will’, Tsahìk declared that fateful day.

“Something extraordinary awaits her. Something that will deliver immense torment, just as annihilating as the venom of her spirit brother, but that will culminate in profound shift and perpetual unity.”

“That gaze, that resoluteness in the eyes, is essential for a leader. What I seek in my successor. And Kiokä...” The silence that followed was more powerful than any words could ever be, and Mi'niri was left feeling a lump form in her throat. Hearing the way his name was spoken was like a poison-tipped arrow, piercing her heart with painful accuracy. It had been a full two weeks since she last talked to him. More or less since his confession. Now things were pretty awkward and tense between the two. Truth be told, she was keeping her distance. Avoiding him like the plague - like she was the plague. Mi’niri couldn’t risk running into each other, knowing he wasn’t willing to forgive and forget. They wouldn’t return to normal this time. His shifty eyes never failed to betray him whenever they sat at opposite ends of the hearth during communal meals. When he walked past her, she couldn't help but notice how he held himself with an air of superiority, refusing to acknowledge her presence. Mi’niri was well aware she could expect nothing more from him. She'd hurt him, broken his heart, wounded his pride. Kiokä needed time to heal. They both needed it. Most of all, they needed to ask themselves what they both wanted and sought for themselves. Besides, even if Kiokä had intended to move on from yet another wronging, meeting by chance was unlikely because of their restrictive commitments. Thank goodness. It incensed her to realize how tangled her existence had become in a mere afternoon.

“You're a smart, diligent lad, a real go-getter. But although you were raised to inherit my title, you don’t have the spirit to lead the people. Perhaps in peacetime that may have sufficed, but not with the resurgence of the ketuwong (aliens).”

Fully understanding where he was going with this, a grimace eluded her. I don’t have that spirit either, she wanted to shout, already feeling the responsibility that came with the title weighing down on her. I got nothing you're looking for.

“Shadow is about to fall upon us. We need a powerful leader capable of making arduous decisions.” “Ma muntxatan (husband), our son is still young. He still has time to prove himself to the people.” From behind a partition peeped Tsahìk, a reproachful look towards her spouse. “That is not the Great Mother's will. We have already broached the subject. Kiokä is a troubled, disoriented boy who shoulders the duty of his lost brother.” There’s a mournful note in the woman’s voice at the mention of her first son. The thanator attack that had claimed the life of their loved one many years ago was still fresh in their minds, a deep scar on the hearts of the clan. “He has no desire to be Olo’eyktan, rather, his true calling is in art. His love for it surpasses any ambition. Nevertheless, he picked this girl as his chosen mate,” he pointed at her, “And Eywa also favored her. That must carry some implication.” “Assuredly, my dear, but her responses are not here to be sought. She is on the cusp of something remarkable.”

What was that sentence trying to say? What am I searching for?

The man let out a distressed chuckle, sensing the same veto in his wife's eyes that he had seen in his son's as he grew up. A son who renounced to pursue his own future out of fear. Who dreaded the thought of letting down his people, of never measuring up to the clan’s expectations. Failure was a constant worry, always present in his thoughts. He lacked the confidence to see the greatness that lay dormant within him. A merit that was so impressive, it could only be outshone by a second, even more dazzling one.

“Mi’niri is averse to being appointed as Olo’eykte or Tsahìk.” Not for the Tawkami, at least. Tsahìk knew from the very start that the girl’s path wouldn’t be the same as her son’s, leading her down a separate road. A unique journey to undertake. With too many questions as her guides, she will leave behind the clan that never felt like home.

About what was in store for the girl, the goddess had been silent. Yet, the woman was sure she’d find her place in the world thanks to the deity's serene giggle whenever questioned. Mi'niri would find joy, harmony, and meaning, even in the face of darkness and pain. She would find love.

It was unreasonable to demand a girl with a tendency towards solitude to assume the reins of the masses. Just as it was ignominious to disregard the signs of Nawna Sa’nok. “Soon Kiokä will find her Tsahìk.” The man sighed, “I am getting old, ‘evan (boy [colloquial]). The Tawkami must be in the right hands, and it's up to me to ensure it happens. Embrace your destiny, it's time to fulfill it.” “How do you know this is my destiny?” A flick of a cough interrupted the conversation.

“Have a sit.” The rider's mask obscured the man's expression, but she could tell he was studying her carefully. With his gnarled hands entwined at his chin, he tapped his index finger against his thin upper lip in contemplation. His sunken eyes were devoid of any emotion, and his calm, calculating tone conveyed only a thinly veiled sense of distrust. His algidness did not surprise her. Kindness was not one of his hallmarks. Although he’d never harmed a hair on her head and, indeed, seemed to carry her on his palm, she had never felt completely at ease in his presence. He used to look at her as if he constantly kept her under scrutiny, dissecting every little detail of her being. As if he was waiting for her to mess up. Yet the girl had shown no compunction in the face of his severity and had never stopped seeking his approval by devoting herself to the clan’s well-being. She wanted to make him proud, almost as if he were a close relative, a mentor. So, as she had always done, she obeyed the man and took a seat at the other end of the massive wooden table, on which a topographical map was resting. The man stared at it for a long time before straightening his torso and exhaling heavily.

“You must be wondering why I wanted you here,” he finally spoke. His deep voice reverberated in her rib cage, causing her to flinch. Her imperceptible nod was enough for him to continue, “Sky People.”

For the past three years, new stars had appeared in the sky, closer and brighter than the others had ever been. They disappeared and reappeared in the blackness of the cosmos like lighthouses in the night. A flickering artificial light that each time it went out brought devastation to new corners of the wondrous satellite on which they lived. The forests crackled and hissed as the smell of smoke filled the air and tongues of fire licked at everything in sight. Animals’ desperate cries filled the air as they tried to escape the flames, but many were not fast enough. The streams shriveled up and disappeared, leaving behind a barren, lifeless landscape. The once vibrant scenery now reduced to a charred wasteland. Clans had to migrate. Seeking refuge, they abandoned the homelands of their forefathers and ventured into the depths of uncharted wilderness, where even the Na’vi had not yet tread.

The Tawkami's valley was a natural fortress, surrounded by high mountains and dense vegetation that stretched for miles. The rock's jagged edges were a testament to the force of the ancient glacier that carved it. Finding them was a hard task for outsiders. Complice the immune response in the Hallelujah Mountains, which, however, was triggered with increasing frequency - directly proportional to the incessant human incursions.

That apparent serenity, that somehow permanent peace, would not last much longer. The Earthlings became bolder with each passing day. The heinousness they were guilty of preceded them. Only death and destruction followed their passage. From coastal settlements to the southeasternmost archipelagos, villages were being razed to the ground. As the platoons advanced into the rainforest to protect Bridgehead supply lines found Omatikaya warriors as the sole active resistance, the RDA unleashed its new abomination.

The recombined soldiers.

Their target was one. Jake Sully.

The conflict was inching closer, and they knew it was only a matter of time before it would have a global impact. Plundering and raiding were no longer enough for the Terrestrials. What they wanted was to conquer, usurp the Na’vi of their birthright, steal their lands, and make them their new planet. Colonise and enslave in exchange for the salvation of a species that should have perished, but persisted, like weeds that never die out.

“What is it, Father?” Kiokä’s voice had a tinge of bitterness in it as he spoke, his eyes staring fixedly at the man, never settling on her. Lopsided once. Mi’niri remained composed, refusing to be disturbed by the hint of indifference with which he had expressed himself. Bordering on annoyance.

“Ikran in the colors of the Metkayina.”

Reef populations flying? Since when? What were they up to in the woods? What were they after?

His son’s nostrils flared as surprise mixed with indignation. At that precise moment, he couldn’t have been further from his well-known composure as he approached her, finally meeting her gaze. “Why’d she come here?” The girl held her ground and stared back at him. She pushed him away, the sound of his pleading voice still ringing in her ears. Niri realized he was hurt, but it didn’t excuse how unfairly he was treating her. ”We’ll come up with a strategy.” ”That's not what I asked,” he objected. The father narrowed his eyes. “To be Txumre’ Makto does?” Kiokä’s anger wavered, replaced by a flicker of uncertainty. His brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of the situation. “Have they violated our borders?” “Not yet,” he warned. Her voice emitted a deep, growling tone from the back of his throat. The Olo’eyktan anger softened, replaced by concern, though skepticism still lingered in his voice. “But why? What’s the reason for them invading our airspace?” “That is what we must find out before they reach Greenhome. Gather the best warriors and interrogate them. Make them talk.”

Notes: All the info about the clans I mention and the characters' names of said clans are from games side stories and other official sources. Since they haven't appeared in the movies yet, I take them as canon until James Cameron will state otherwise.

Blue Flute: another name for Omatikaya.

Panopyra: nicknamed the love flower by Terran scientists, is an unusual life-form that has characteristics reminiscent of a jellyfish. It doesn’t resemble any taxonomic plant group found on Earth and appears to represent a new evolution line toward a primitive nervous system. Sensory tissue and a saprophytic lifestyle, where nutrition is obtained from decayed organic matter and dead organisms, place this species somewhere between plants, animals, and fungi so it can be categorized as zooplantae. It is an epiphyte and typically grows attached to other plants, sometimes high in the canopy. Normal plant gravitropic responses are missing in the panopyra. Instead of growing toward or against gravity, the vinelike stems sense and grow toward prey, which in turn are attracted by slight electric signals emanating from the plant's stems. Once an animal approaches the panopyra it is further lured by the nutrient-rich water trapped in the cuplike plant body. This double attractant system results in abundant food for the panopyra, which has no need to make its own food through photosynthesis. The water is collected from dew and fog, which condenses and runs down into the cup-shaped body. The Na'vi collect the liquid that catches in the body and use it for a nutritious and healing drink. The flexible stems are used for making nets, traps, and other woven items. The growing tips of the stems with their sensory cells are said to be an attractant and aphrodisiac and often worn by young Na'vi who are looking for a mate.

Tawtsngal: Na’vi name of panopyra.

Ikran People of the Eastern Sea: Tayrangi Clan.

Yawäa family: Mi'niri's family

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