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neteyamslovrr · 1 year

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HOW CAN I LOSE YOU?

summary: prmoised to a stranger Y/N takes flight and finds herself lost in the pandorian forest, only to be found by a omaticayan boy. who knew that strangers could fall in love so fast?

a/n: 5.7K WORDS bro that's more than my assignments. anyway i am incredibly proud of this fic and i hope you enjoy it as much as i do

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Heat rose through your body, fury filling your insides as the words your mother said repeated in your mind like an intoxicating mantra. You are promised.

Promised? Th only promise is your misery. To think it’s not even someone from your clan. A stranger, an outsider, unknown to you and you were meant to mate. The fury grew even thinking about it.

“Y/N? Respond please.” Your mother held her hands on your shoulder as you refused to look in her direction.

“What? I’m being promised to someone I don’t even know. Am I meant to be excited?” You spat venom at your mother avoiding her eye contact, swatting her hands off of your body.

“Y/N! Do not speak to your mother like that!” Always chiming in when he wasn’t needed, that’s what your father did.

“Don’t treat your daughter like a peace treaty then!” You shouted back, a sharp finger pointed at your father’s chest. You started to walk backwards, hands shaking from the rage racking through your body. “I’m leaving.”

“No Y/N, you can’t leave now, we have things to discuss!” Your mother was desperate walking fast to match the fast pace you had created to reach your ikran.

“You have nothing to say to me.” Harsh words shot at your mother as you hoped onto your ikran. “Go, Lifo!” Shouting out your banshees name you took off, gusts of wind leaving your parents to stare at their fleeing daughter.

You couldn’t remember how long you had been flying, the ongoing replay of the fight with your parents and the doom of your near future plagued your mind. Leaving your ikran to fly into unknown territory, a dense forest filled with a loud glow that encompassed every lifeform.

Landing on a large tree you disconnected from Lifo, the glow was different to your clan, it was much more apparent, the plant life encompassing every step you would take.

Strolling through the forest, you wandered looking for any food or water, as the unexpected trip took a toll on your body, hunger brewing in your stomach creating soft grumbles that harmonized with the sounds of the forest. Inspecting all of the flora around you, you spotted a purple fruit. You only recognized it as the same fruit grew on smaller trees surrounding your village.

Picking the fruit, avoiding the thorns on the fruits skin, you took a bite. The flesh of the fruit spilling into your mouth leaving you with an amazing taste and a wash of nostalgia. It was the exact same as home, bringing you back to times when you knew you could run freely and weren’t subjected to a life of misery, a life of lack of love.

A sudden crunch of leaves instantly got rid of the nostalgic feeling you had and replaced them with fear, subconsciously holding onto the knife in the loop of your loin cloth as your heart started to beat rapidly.

“Who are you?” A loud voice boomed in front of you. A tall man, braids reaching his shoulders and hand who also reached onto his knife stood tall across from you, his figure intimidating as he questioned you.

“I mean no harm! I am just lost!” You retracted your hand off your knife to surrender yourself to the man in front of you. “I am from the eastern seas, my ikran and I flew too far.” Pointing to your sleeping ikran in the treetops above the pair of you. The mans eyes softened immediately, you noticed a=how the bioluminescent glow of the forest made his features stand out like a flower in a desert.

“Are you alright?” The man asked coming closer, his hand now also abandoning his knife, knowing you were no longer a threat.

“Yes, just looking for food.”

“You cannot stay in the forest at night, you’ll die.” Panic rose throughout you as you realised you stood in such hostile foliage. Eyes immediately scanning around where you stood, conscious of the danger surrounding you. “Rest within my clan, you’ll leave in the morning.” He wasn’t asking you, more like a demand.

Nodding hesitantly, you clapped three times to wake Lifo up, watching her wide wings flap down to the ground to let you board her. “Please lead the way.”

He nodded, calling his ikran to fly high into the sky waiting for you to follow suit. “What is your name Ikran girl?” He shouted over the noise of the two of your ikran’s flying.

“It’s Y/N…what is yours forest boy?”

“Neteyam.” That’s a pretty name.

Upon arrival you watched as many people hustled to look at the newcomer. Two women rose to the front, the rest parting to make way for them. Assuming they were important, you greeted them with a bow. “oel ngati kameie”

The two repeated it before turning aggressively to the boy you knew as Neteyam.

“Who do you bring here?” An older woman asked, she looked wise. Maybe she was Tsa’hik?

“Her name is Y/N, flew over from the eastern seas and got lost in the forest, she is here to rest.” Neteyam’s voice was serious, his face stern, like a man of leadership. Who exactly had you run into in the middle of this forest?

“I see…” She replied, her eyes gliding over you. Frozen in the moment, her stare was intimidating but so was the hundreds of others that oogled at you. It made the hunger settling in your stomach turn into anxiety.

“Feed this poor girl!” A younger woman replied, coming up beside the Tsa’hik. She was thin, her braids similar to Neteyam’s, feathers adorning her hair, as a small child held tightly onto her hand.

“Yes mother.” Neteyam nodded, he looked at you and your frozen form. Laying a soft hand on your shoulder. “Come, your ikran will rest.” He started walking off even before you could process his words but seeing as he was the only person you knew in this place, it was first instinct to follow him around like a lost child.

He lead you into a tent, inside were fruit baskets and water stored in wooden jars. If you weren’t so shocked by the continuous new surrounding you would’ve rushed to the fruit.

“Hurry and eat, everyone can hear your stomach.” Neteyam said as he stood next to the fruit, picking one up to put into your hands. Picking the fruit out of his hands, your fingers brushed his palm slightly.

It shouldn’t have worked you up so much, but the static between the two of you evoked a small gasp out of you. Neteyam felt the touch too, he just decided to ignore it but seeing your overreaction brought a soft smirk to his face.

“Do not make fun of the guests Neteyam!” A girl pushed between the two of you, giving Neteyam a nudge. She was short, her hair messy and her voice deep.

“I was not sister!” Neteyam scoffed pushing his sister back. She let out an exaggerated gasp holding onto her arm dramatically.

Munching onto the fruit in your hands, you watched the pair of sibling’s bicker in front of you. You would’ve giggled at their antics if the anxiety of being in this new place wasn’t controlling every thought.

“Oh! I haven’t introduced myself!” The shorter girl turned to you curtly. “I am Kiri, Neteyam’s sister. What is your name?”

“It’s Y/N.” You said with you mouth full, face covered in a sticky sap excreting from the fruits skin.

“That’s quite pretty, your name.” You heated up, a compliment was rarely something you received.

“Thankyou very much.” You smiled at the girl, your gaze distracted by Neteyam who overlooked your conversation, a soft smile glistening over his face. It looked like was almost in awe watching the two women converse.

Neteyam shook his head, realising he left himself loose in his thoughts. Looking over at your messy face he was mesmerised, each of your features perfectly matched the other, you looked so soft yet sharp, so tough but so elegant.

He shouldn’t be thinking this, not as an Olo’eyktan, he had duties, responsibilities. He can’t develop a liking for another clan woman.

“Are the fruits…good?” He sounded so awkward, destroying the flow of the conversation between you and Kiri. Kiri snorted in response at her brother, she wasn’t dumb, she knew when a boy thought a girl was pretty, especially when its her brother making a fool of himself.

You nodded enthusiastically. “They’re amazing, thankyou Neteyam.” You had finally finished the fruit, leaving your face and hands sticky. An uncomfortable feeling no doubt.

“I’m uh glad.” Neteyam responded, being slightly deterred as his sister left, poking him in the spine as she snuck out of the tent, leaving Neteyam alone, with this…girl.

“Why are you all the way in the forest by the way?” Neteyam asked suddenly, his eyes directly upon yours, looking into them, noticing the glint of sadness that washed over your pupils momentarily.

“I argued with my parents. Flew off in a rush and got distracted as to where I was flying. So now I am here.” You shrugged, taking a seat on the floor of the tent, your legs growing tired from your long journey. Neteyam followed your actions and sat down in front of you. Much closer to where he stood.

“Oh, I am sorry.”

“Do not be sorry, my parents should be the sorry ones, but you do not want to be burdened with the quarrels of my family.” A stifled chuckle escaped your throat as you looked up to see Neteyam listening to your ever word.

“I would not be burdened if you decided to talk about it.” His voice was calm, soft, a comforting feeling spreading through your chest as you heard his words.

“Thankyou.”

Neteyam nodded, as he patted just above your knee, a soft hand to comfort whatever grief was consuming your emotions. “Do you want to sleep, or would you like to continue to eat?”

“Uh, I don’t want to eat more than I am allowed to.”

“Well, are you still hungry?”

“…yes”

Neteyam shoved another piece of fruit in your hands. “Then you will eat.”

“Thankyou.” You smiled at him, biting into the fruit once again.

Neteyam was compelled by your presence, he had known you for merely an hour but the magnetic connection he felt as he was drawn to you was undeniable. Was he going crazy?

You noticed his heavy stare on you once more. It made you nervous, his eyes looking through you as you sat in front of him. His beauty was one you had never seen, he poise interested you. Were you attracted to this random man? You must be going crazy.

Chewing the food in a slightly rush you watched as Neteyam’s eyes awkwardly shuffled around the room to try and avoid making too much eye contact with you. With a small inhale you tried to gain the courage to break the awkward tension between you two.

“So Neteyam, you seem important around here, is there a reason why?” Your question surprised Neteyam. He had never met someone who knew nothing of his reputation within the clan.

“I am the future Olo’eyktan, my father is Toruk Makto.” You almost spat out the food in your mouth. You were speaking so casually with the son of Toruk Makto? Not even that, his firstborn son? He must have been staring because you were so informal!

“Oh! Son of Toruk Makto. I should have been more formal!” You rushed to stand up again to bow down to him. Scrambling to your feet with speed, you felt a soft grip on your wrist.

There Neteyam looked up at you, his eyes slightly…disappointed? Was he really that upset about your informalities?

“Sit back down Y/N, there is no need to be so formal.”

“Are you sure.” Your voice was quiet, eyes filled with confusion and hesitance as he nodded giving you the go ahead to sit once again.

“Yes I’m sure…just think of me as Neteyam.”

“Okay, I’ll do that…Neteyam.” He smiled at the sound of his name, the way you giggled as you said it, smile shining brightly in the soft moonlight that slipped through the tents curtains.

“What are you in your clan?” He asked, trying to keep the conversation flowing with you.

“I am the second daughter of the Olo’eyktan. Nothing special.” You shrugged, avoiding his hardening gaze. His hand returned once again to your thigh, an awkward attempt at comfort but still an attempt.

“You are a daughter of your clan’s leaders, that is important.” A stern statement filled with pride, his eyes softening while looking at you.

“Thankyou.” You said followed with a small yawn, eyes watering slightly. Your body was now feeling the fatigue of the long day that was now behind you.

“Oh, that reminds me, sleeping.” A soft chuckle left your lips in response to Neteyam, eyelids now starting to droop subtly. “This is my tent is where I usually sleep but if you would like you can sleep in here and I can sleep in my family’s tent?” He sounded so unsure, to suggest it as if there was another option as to where you could sleep safely.

“I do not want to kick you out of your bedroom.” You said shaking your head.

“But you are a guest you should sleep here safe.” A quick rebuttal

“Well, but this is your tent. This is where you sleep.”

“No, tonight it is where you sleep.” You sighed, pursing your lips together in response to Neteyams final remarks.

“But-”

“No” he stood up, now looking down at you. His figure looming over you intimidatingly. “You will sleep here tonight. If there is any trouble I am not far away.” He smiled at you, offering a hand to pull you up to his level.

“Are you completely sure?”

“Completely. Goodnight ikran girl.”

“Goodnight Neteyam.”

You both couldn’t deny the heat that rushed flowed to your cheeks. Neteyam stifled his smile as he exited the tent, as a smirking Kiri gave him a knowing look. This may have been the start of something terribly amazing.

It was now morning, a restless night filled with anxiety. The new sounds of the world around you, the mysterious moonlight shining into your eyes and to be alone in a brand new clan. It was terrifying.

Waking up for the last time as you decided it was an appropriate time to start off your day. Siting up you examined the tent around you, the small plants and flowers that littered the ground, and carved wooden pieces that were spread strategically around the tent. He must enjoy decorating you thought to yourself.

The curtain of your room slowly opened, a timid hand holding the edge, peeling it open to reveal Neteyam’s face. “Morning Y/N, did you sleep alright?” He asked closing the curtain again as he entered his tent. He looked down at your barely awake form, the sleep in your eyes and overall exhaustion on your face told him that you in fact did not sleep alright.

“It was fine, thankyou for letting me sleep here.”

“There was no way you weren’t going to, mum would have skinned me if I had not let a woman sleep in her own tent.” He chuckled at the thought, a hand being brought up behind his head.

“Either way, I appreciate it. I’ll have to go home soon though, my parents will send out a search party if I’m not back before todays eclipse.” Neteyam frowned, of course you had to leave. But why was there a tugging in his heart to ask you to stay just a couple hours longer, to talk to you longer, to be near you.

“Yes, but you should stay just a bit…longer.” Neteyam sounded so weary, cursing himself in his mind.

You stared up at him, you couldn’t deny that you wanted to be home, yet you had this growing urge to stay by this stranger. Why? Why did you crave his closeness?

“I guess I could…” His face brightened almost exclaiming in joy, but he choked down his urge to shout.

“Cool.” Cool? Oh, Neteyam you had to be kidding.

“Yeah…cool…” The awkward tension was once again returning as you looked away from the boy in front of you, fidgeting with his hands, rocking on his heels to pray something could meld the awkwardness in the room.

Getting off of your makeshift bed you stood close to Neteyam. Closer than any normal conversation would be. His breath was brushing past your ear as he looked down to see you mimicking his fidgeting.

“Would you like to explore the forest with me?” It was a fast, impulsive, brash decision to ask you that but seeing the way your eyes twinkled in response he felt no shame in being so forward.

“I’d love to.” Sharing smiles, you both enjoyed the now comfortable silence between you. A silence two would share in the pining plot point of a romance movie, one that asserts which two characters will be in love.

“Then let us go!”

That conversation led to you being alone in the forest with Neteyam. As he passionately explained all of the things around you, the plants, the animals. He knew you would have them in your clan, but he was enthralled in the spirit of teaching someone all about his life and culture. To have someone listen so intently to something he was passionate about.

“The forest is beautiful Neteyam.” You breathed out resting your back against a large tree trunk, one similar to the one you landed on the night before.

“I am extremely blessed for it to be my home.” His eyes were bright, smile across his face as his gratitude took over his emotions. He looked alluring to you, a sort of instinct drawing you closer to him, even though he was the one walking closer to you, a subconscious decision.

“Neteyam..” It was quiet but seeing him walk towards you unknowingly led him to stand very close to your front. His chest mere centimetres away from yours. “You are close…” Noticing your whisper he noticed how close he was, he was too busy focusing on the plants around him, he had walked right into you.

He froze when he saw your breath hitch, your eyes connecting as his broad chest momentarily brushed up against yours. “I am sorry, I shouldn’t be.” He looked down seeing your flushed cheeks and avoidant eyes. It intrigued him. Why were you so attractive? He shouldn’t think this.

“No, you shouldn’t.” Your eyes shot up to him, desire pooling in your amber orbs. The feeling was taking over your body, this longing for him. Why did you want this stranger so bad? You knew nothing of him other than the fact that your body was calling for him, begging for him.

Neteyam was now the frozen one, lost in your eyes. The desire you felt transferring to him as he felt his chest grow heavy from yearning. “Y/N…” Your name rolled off his tongue with ease, dripping in anxiousness.

Maybe it was to spite your parents, to find someone before you were mated. Maybe it was the overall intimacy of how Neteyam shyly loomed over you or maybe it was the fact that this man in front of you was the most attractive Na’vi you had ever came across and you were just a teenage girl…alone in the forest.

“Neteyam. Forgive me for this.” Crashing your lips against his your eyes shut tight as your hands travelled up his chest to rest behind his neck. He froze, eyes wide as he felt you upon him. Your touch burning as your hands travelled up and down his body.

Accepting your affections, he closed his eyes and continued to kiss you. Lips latching onto one another as he pulled your into his body, his hands wrapped around the small of your back, thumbs digging into the flesh of your hips.

Starting to lose your breath you broke away from Neteyam’s lips. Meeting his heavy breaths and intense stare. “Neteyam-” cut off as he smashed his lips into yours again. This time it was feverish, his body craving you, to taste you lips and feel every part of your body.

You let out small whimpers as Neteyam’s hands travelled down to grab your ass, his hand resting on the flesh. If he was in his right mind he would’ve been repulsed by his lewd actions but in this moment he craved you, and the sounds you made just drove him closer to insanity.

As hands roamed and kisses grew more desperate you and Neteyam separated, hands laying softly on each other as chests rose in sync, breathing loud and eye contact strong.

“Neteyam, I am sorry. I should not have done that.” The feeling of desire soon turned into shame, not being able to look him in the eye, too embarrassed about what you initiated. Neteyam was still, his face showing none of the feelings he was experiencing.

He longed to taste you again, but he knew it was wrong. He had duties to uphold as leader, he couldn’t kiss whomever he pleased. But you were just so intoxicating.

“No.”

“What?”

“Do not be sorry. I kissed you back. I wanted you so badly. No. I want you so badly.”

“Neteyam, I met you yesterday and I’m leaving today. I shouldn’t have been so impulsive.” He forgot that you had only known each other one eclipse. It felt like eternity. He also forgot that you were meant to leave, you weren’t here forever. This was a mere coincidence, meeting you in the forest was a coincidence.

“Come back then.”

“Huh” You stared up at him, you knew what he said. You just wanted him to repeat himself.

“Leave and come back. We can visit I just…I want to get to know you more Y/N. I don’t want to kiss a girl to never see her again.” Neteyam’s hands had rested against your cheek. It didn’t feel like you had known him for hours, more like years. An old couple reuniting, lost souls reconnecting. That is what it felt like.

“Neteyam…how do I explain that to my parents?”

“Don’t.”

“You are being a bit delusional.”

“I know I just… this is stupid. You just want to go.” His ears flattened against his skull, a prominent frown etched onto his face. You sighed holding onto the hand that laid against your own cheek.

“Neteyam. I want to get to know you as well.”

There it was. That was the start. It was the beginning. You both felt something click in your heads that day. That this is what is right, despite it feeling so wrong.

You and Neteyam had now been visiting each other twice a week. You would fly out on long ‘training hunts’ to understand new waters you have explored but in reality you were in the Pandorian rainforest, sat against a man’s chest as he played with your hair. It had become routine now. It was now habit to see each other.

It felt like true bliss. It let you escape from the impending doom that was meeting your future mate. It felt disgusting to think of living with someone other than Neteyam by your side. Thinking about it made you queasy but most of it made you feel lonely. Knowing one day you would have to say goodbye to Neteyam as your family had trapped you into misery for the benefits of clan’s over their own daughter. However, you didn’t think you would say goodbye to Neteyam this way.

You sat on the tree where you met Neteyam. You decided to pick that one as its large waterfall next to it made it easy for you to know where you were as you barely knew your way around the forest.

Early morning is when you would leave your clan meeting Neteyam as the sun starts to move towards peak. This morning however felt different. Neteyam who usually was there before you was nowhere to be seen. It worried you wondering where he was. He didn’t forget or something did he? No. That is stupid Y/N, you cursed yourself.

Being in the forest alone was scary, not knowing all that resides it made you sensitive to the smallest noise. That’s why when Neteyam emerged out of the heavy foliage you had your knife out ready to attack.

“Y/N? Why is your knife out?”

“You scared the crap out of me Neteyam.” Putting your knife back into the loop of your loincloth you pulled your hands down your face in embarrassment. Your heartbeat now starting to calm down as Neteyam gave you a soft embrace hoping to calm your anxiousness.

“Sorry…I was late talking to my family.” You didn’t realise before because of the adrenaline but Neteyam’s voice was sorrowful. The usual playful tone changing into a melancholy tune. But what alerted you the most was his tear-stricken face. Puffy eyes and dark cheeks.

“Neteyam…have you been crying?” you rested your thumb against his cheek, wiping the residue of tears off his face.

“It is nothing”

“It is definitely something…” your concern grew larger as he looked way from your gaze, obvious he was hiding the new set of tears welling in his eyes.

“No. It is not.”

“Neteyam please-”

“NO Y/N! I- I can’t talk about it. I just want, I want to stay next to you.” His voice cracked, in turn cracking your heart. It ached to see him hurt.

“That is okay baby, come here.” He crashed into your arms, falling onto his knees to smoosh his face into your torso. You could feel the wetness of his tears near your belly button but ignored it to continue soothing him, patting his head softly.

As you sat down to meet him on the ground you noticed his more recent tears. It pained you. What was troubling your boy?

“Nete you can tell me if something is troubling you…”

“I don’t want to lose you Y/N.” The sentence was unexpected, making you widen your eyes as Neteyam continued to let his tears fall out with a stone cold face.

“But I am right here.” A lie, you knew you would be taken away at some point, but you would tried to push it down. Enjoy the time you had with Neteyam, but for some reason he was the one cutting it short.

“No Y/N…I have been promised. I-” he paused to calm himself down, his hand gripping onto your thigh roughly. “I am to mate with someone for my clan. It is my duty.”

“What.”

“Y/N please, I had no say in this.” Your lip quivered, eyes starting to water as you gazed up to the already crying Neteyam. The pain in your body felt crippling, like your heart had been plunged out of you. Small sobs coming out of your mouth in a soft whisper as Neteyam muttered constant apologies to you.

Your chest felt heavy, your body felt heavy. You felt like you were tied down, stuck on the ground you sat on, stuck on Neteyam who hung onto you as you continued to cry in his embrace.

“Neteyam. Does this mean we never see each other again?” His heart shattered at the thought. He had fallen in love with you. Everything you did he wanted to be there with you. He craved you and you craved him. But now you were grieving him and grieving whatever could have been.

“I do not want it to be.”

“But is it.”

“Yes.”

The quiet sobs turned into loud ones as you clawed onto Neteyam. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear as he rocked you back and forth. He tried to have a little composure but hearing your pained voice broke him. He had broken you.

“I don’t want to let you go yet Nete. I was planning on never letting you go! Why did this happen!” you had this secret fantasy in your mind. That one day you and Neteyam would mate, that you would come to your home, denounce your parents promise over you and live happily with Neteyam.

But no. You were now both tied to loveless lives. Constantly yearning for each other while being with one whom you never craved like you craved each other.

“I am so sorry my love. I wish I could do something, but I am stuck.” You nodded, you were in his exact position. You couldn’t blame him. But you wanted to scream, cause a ruckus and demand for Neteyam to stay as yours. It drove you insane. Who was going to be the girl that kept you away from your Neteyam. You’ll skin her, kill her, slit her throat if it meant that Neteyam could still be yours.

“I know…let’s just enjoy our time together” it felt like a knife to the heart, like a final goodbye those last eight words. But Neteyam understood. He knew that this was a goodbye. That all good things had to come to an end but that didn’t make the thought of never having you in his arms again not the most painful thing he had ever thought about.

The ride home was the most painful thing you had ever done. You didn’t stop crying until you reached home, your throat itchy and head pounding. You wanted nothing more than to lay in your hammock and cry. To stay there until it was your time to mate and be miserable forever.

Flying into your home you would’ve thought your parents got the message that you were not to be talked to. But who were they to care about your feelings? So they barged into your room, gasping at the state of their sorrowful daughter.

“My child what has happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You grumbled facing the opposite direction to minimalize the embarrassment you felt of being caught crying.

“We should tell her.” Your fathers voice rung in your ears, making your body go cold. You couldn’t handle anymore bad news, not after this.

“Tell me what.”

“Your mate is to arrive here tomorrow.” Your body heated up, feeling as if your head was on fire with rage. You didn’t even get time to grieve your romance before you were shoved into the hands of a stranger?

“Are you fucking kidding me.”

“Do not speak to us that way.” Your father tried to discipline you, but your rage was nothing compared to him.

“ARE YOU KIDDING?! I DON’T WANT A MATE I WANT TO BE ALONE. FUCK!” You voice was raspy and loud, sure the entire clan could hear you screams.

“You do not get a choice in this. It is for the clan.” You looked into your parents eyes but all you could see is betrayal, how is this fair?

You didn’t have the energy to fight this any longer. Without Neteyam, your purpose was gone. How was anyone meant to fight for their love when their love had been stripped away from them.

“Fine.” Your mother looked at both her mate and daughter with concern. You had given up. “I don’t care anymore, because it is obvious you do not.”

“You brat-” Your mother coughed loudly to stop your father. Sharing glances, you all looked to each other.

“Thank you daughter for doing this.” Sneering you looked directly into your mothers eyes and then to your fathers.

“I am not your daughter.” Their faces had fallen, the same emotion Neteyam had when he first saw you earlier. They had no right to be upset. Not when they chose this.

As your parents left without a word, you curled into a ball, folding in on yourself trying to shy away from the burden of grief and love tugging on your heart. The pain was indescribable, like someone had taken your heart and diced it in front of you.

That morning your mother had put you in your best attire. A top adorned in red beads and yellow feathers that represented your ikran was placed on top of you. Your usually loincloth had been replaced with one of prettier colour and material, more delicate to look at. Lastly, your hair had been let out, reaching past your shoulder blades as a yellow flower was stuck behind your left ear.

“You look beautiful Y/N.” Your mother had her hands over her mouth adoringly. “Doesn’t she look wonderful?” she asked your father as he replied with a proud nod.

A horn was sounded. Here they come. Entitled pieces of shit, thinking that they could mate into your clan. This wasn’t fair, you just wanted to see Neteyam. You wanted to cry in his arms, yet here you were walking out into the crowd of people. Drums being beat as horns blew. You tried to look poised, to try and look like you weren’t writhing in anxiety of who this man would be.

There flew in three ikrans. Why did it look so familiar? Why was the flashing colours of these animals bringing you back to siting in the forest with your love. You must be going insane.

“Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan! Welcome! Toruk Makto! Welcome!”

What.

No.

This cannot be happening. But it was.

There he stood in front of you. Just as frozen as you. The quiver of your lips came back as you saw him stand in front of you in disbelief.

“Neteyam?” He walked towards you slowly, reaching his shaking hand out to you. You paced towards him, wrapping your hand around his and bringin it to your chest. “It’s! It’s you!” you felt as if you were to burst in relief

“My love, it is you?” Neteyam’s free hand came to caress your cheek, his heart was sparkling, he felt a weight being lift off his shoulders the minute you came into view.

“It is me.” Neteyam’s lip quivered as he sucked in a short breath, trying desperately to not look as if he was a madman. “Kiss me.”

“What?”

“Kiss me Neteyam.” He complied, lips melting together in a harmonious union. Love mixed with the salty tears on both your cheeks as he held you closely to him. You kissed him deeply, ignoring the stares and confusion around you. He was here right in front of you, you would never let him go again. Never.

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hope you enjoyed please comment and reblog and like I appreciate it so much !!

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lizzaneia-elizalde · 9 months

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Yandere! Sugar daddy x "pure"! Reader

EEEEEEEEE Time to write my baby, the fruit of my dark rofan loins (jk) Basically, this yandere is my first yandere OC and when I gave life (lol) to him in Char/ai yesterday, I just knew he had to be next.

Also, I contemplated what title to give him since he's also a mafia boss, but I decided to go with Sugar daddy since it's the most integral part of his story.

Also, "pure" just means that you dress light, really. But in Rowan's eyes, you were like an angel, a pure being that he needs to taint (oops spoiler)

Yandere! Sugar daddy name: Rowan Silas (Yes, he even has a last name)

notes: Rowan is not old, OLD. He's not a Dilf/Gilf level sugar daddy. In his lore with my other OC (his love interest), he's older by five years. Also, reader has a womb, due to mentions of pregnancy (why did I do this pregnancy shit twice? Dunno really.)

TW: noncon pregnancy, trackers, nsfw stuff

ALSO, REQUESTS ARE OPEN <3 (I don't even know if people will request but LOL just in case.)

The man only knew pain and crime all his life.

He never experienced anything good, apart from gunning down his enemies alive if that even means the same as what people deem as "good".

His life of crime was because of his adoptive father, who picked him up from the slums to become one of his personnel.

He was only seven by then. But his hands stained with blood as he killed the other kid who drowned his precious pet kitten in the lake. That's where his father knew that Rowan is not normal.

I mean, who would sport a smile while choking his fellow kid alive?

All Rowan said was "He deserved it though."

"He took what's precious from me."

That was enough to make his father set him straight to become the heir of the mafia family.

He grew up battered and bruised yet the vices he only knew is his smoking from his precious churchwarden pipe, and violence.

He told his father that it was enough for him.

Yet his body raged on, wanting more and more as greed consumed him for more.

Yes, he's a greedy man who wants more.

After all, he had nothing, then had one precious thing, then lost that thing. And then, when he eliminated the person who stole his precious thing, he got everything.

Did that make sense? To Rowan, it didn't.

He already got everything, but why does he want more?

So with a clean shot to the head, he killed his father and immediately inherited the family.

Now, he can spend the money and the resources as much as he wants. So he did. He went to casinos, brothels, luxury hotels and cruises. Everything he thinks that he needs.

But he still wants more. He still needs more.

And by god, he did get more.

He bumped into you one day, with you in your soft outfit of creams and pastels. Your pure, clean eyes made his heart skip a beat as you said sorry to him.

His greed triggered.

He wanted you so bad.

When he learned you needed a job when he saw your folder filled with resumes, he felt like he won the lottery.

"How about becoming my sugar baby? Don't worry, I won't ask anything. Much."

And as your cute figure pondered what to do, he smirked. You, in the middle of his dim office, in light clothing and an innocent face, was such a contrast in the dark office filled with his smoke from his beloved churchwarden pipe. You stuck out like a sore thumb, and he liked it.

He loved it.

And as your lips dropped the answer he wanted to hear, he shivered and gave you a lopsided smile.

"Good. Now, what do you want, love?"

Rowan sat down on his office chair, he cracked his neck and sighed.

He was bone tired. He just finished a cartel mission that he himself as the boss had to interfere. It was annoying because it was due to his incompetent new recruits.

At least they're sleeping with the "fishies", as what you call the finned sea creatures.

He grabbed something from his pocket and brought it up to his face. It was an intricate jeweled choker with a lot of rose gold arcs, jewels that match your eyes, and a diamond encrusted opal centerpiece.

He imagined you wearing it. Wrapping the choker on your neck himself, seeing your eyes flash in wonder and amazement. He imagined you also getting shy and saying that it was too expensive, and him saying that it was okay, and he wanted to give you this entirely by his own volition. And he got excited.

...In one way or another.

He chuckled and shook his head, swinging on his swivel chair as he dialed your number.

After two rings, you picked up.

"Love, come here. I got a gift for you."

You whined, getting shy again. He chuckled.

"You know what I say, I don't want to hear you say no. So come here now."

So you did.

Once you got there, he smiled and kissed your lips softly, bringing you close to him by your waist and lifting you up easily with his tatted arms.

"Come, I'll give you the present myself."

You got curious naturally.

He settled you in front of the floor length mirror which also saw... Much more intimate and sensual things you both did other than this gift giving thing he's doing.

Rowan slowly grabbed your hair and raised it, making you shiver with goosebumps from the action. He smirked, seeing you so flustered from the simple act of him grabbing your hair.

Well, that, and he also liked to grab your hair a lot while fucking you senselessly. There's that too.

You closed your eyes when he told you too, and you felt the familiar cold sensation of jewelry resting on your neck. But this time, it hugged it, making you open your eyes. It was the beautiful choker he was admiring earlier.

"Do you love it?" Rowan asked, looking at you through the mirror as he rested his chin on your shoulder. You nodded enthusiastically and said yes. He smirked.

This was the first time you didn't say to take the gift back with such a flustered apprehensive look. You're starting to get greedy.

He loved that. A lot.

"Now, how about you kiss me in return, hmm?" You rolled your eyes and gently kissed him. You know this day is not just going to end in a kiss.

But you didn't mind.

And he knows that.

You went home that day with Rowan driving you. He gave you more gifts that you shyly accepted once more, making Rowan shiver in glee. Again, you didn't reject them at all.

You're slowly getting tainted by his greediness.

And hopefully, you will be greedy enough to bring up your relationship to him, and tell him that you wanted more to this.

That you wanted his love.

Oh, he trembles at the thought.

It's not a question of if, but when, after all.

But now, he's just slowly moving forward with your relationship. Slow and steady wins the race, after all. Despite him living such a fast paced life, he knows he's patient enough to wait for you.

But if you backtracked and got out of his tight grasp...

Let's just say that the tracker he planted on your laptop, your phone, and now your precious choker will help him find you if you ran away.

You were the light to his dark, dreary life.

He'll be crazy enough to let you go.

And he's already crazy about you.

That's why he's making you addicted to him also. Showering you with gifts and love. Praising your body, worshipping it, pleasing it until you reach the heavens like the angel you are.

And if you still didn't want him... Let's just say the condoms with holes in them that he himself poked will do the trick.

It was a dirty tactic. But who cares? He's a mafia boss for god's sake. Dirty tactics aren't new to him.

And if you still somehow didn't end up pregnant and got to run away, he'll use his influence to find you.

You got no escape.

Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

You were his love. His greed.

With a drag of his churchwarden pipe, he drove off to plan your wedding.

You were going to be his after all.

No matter what.

I don't know if I did my baby Rowan justice i'm going crazY FUCK.

Can you guys tell I have favoritism? Because I do LOL

#male yandere x reader #yandere boyfriend #yandere imagines #yandere male #yandere writing #tw yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere fic #lizzaneiaelizalde #yandere drabbles

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idcbabyialreadylostmymind · 1 year

Text

Rebellion pt.1

Pairing- Sully family x Sully!reader

Summary- Your going through a rebellion amd how easy can it be for your siblings to keep all the stuff they see you doing a secret.

Na'vi Translations- au- drum, Reypaytun- red, tsmisnr- lantern, 'ite- daughter

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3

A/N- did i make up two whole ass plants up for this fic yes yes I did and there will be a pt. 2 i just need to come up with ideas for it

Rules. Rules. Rules. That's all your father talked about. Who you can't hang out with. What you can't wear. Can't say. Can't do. Can't, Can't Can't. That's all he does, you're sick and tired of his rules.

First it started with the clothes. You had to wear shawls over your open armed tops, you threw all your shawls away. No short or high split loincloths. You started dressing how you wanted, regular revealing tops that everyone loved, and high slit loin skirts and loincloths.

"Y/N, Dad’s gonna skin you alive if he sees you in that." Kiri hissed as she saw you pull your low waisted loin skirt on. You turn to Kiri and put your hands on your hips. "You forget Kiri. I don't care what dad thinks because I am my own person." You say before pushing yourself out of your room and Kiri only shakes her head.

And then the parties. Every teen in the Omatikaya snuck out at night and snuck deeper in the woods to drink fermented nectar and smoke the Reypaytun flower, but not the Olo'eyktan's kids who had too many rules.

As you heard the light snoring of your mother and father, you got out of your cot and changed into your clothes. Opening a curtain window, you dip your feet over it and jump out following the other young Na'vi into the woods. You caught a few peoples eyes and a boy approaches you, Ao'zuk that's his name, an amazing healer. "I didn't know you came to these things." He said over the loud beat of the au. "I didn't." You say before taking his cup of nectar taking a big sip, it was bitter with a slight sweet aftertaste. "But I do now." You say and he smirks.

And that's how your nights went, did whatever duties your father humbly bestowed upon you during the day, and when Eclipse hit and all the adults were asleep you snuck out, drank, smoked, danced, and touched.

Little did you know your little brother, Neteyam, saw your nightly exhibitions and he wanted to know what you did. So he waited. Waited for you to change and sneak out, waited thirty minutes and followed the muffled sound of music.

And then he stepped into a swarm of dancing, making out, grinding, drinking, and smoking teens. And then he saw you sitting on someone's legs and they placed a small flower on your tongue. You swallowed as your already glazed eyes felt the flower kick in, pupils dilating in and out. Euphoria rushed through your veins as the man you sat on stuffed a bag into your bag and then you thanked him. You stayed there with a lazy smile as you blink up at the sky. Neteyam rushes home, what have you done to yourself?

He didn't know what to do. He crawled back into bed and closed his eyes. Only to shoot back open when he heard you creep back into the kelku. He heard you sit on the bed and open the bag and take another one. He cringes at the rustles of the bag, oh how he just wished this was a dream.

So he held hope that it was.

It wasn't.

He woke up and you held your bag to your chest protectively. He gulped thinking about what you had in there before shaking his head, getting ready for his duties for the day.

And as you stumbled up he never saw you without your bag by your side. Now it was time for the communal lunch, He sat by you and you looked over to him before taking a bite of the fruit in your hand. He wanted to know what is so cool about this stuff that you do all of it. “Y/N, can you take me to the party tonight, since mom and dad are on that hunting trip.." Neteyam whispered to you as Lo'ak sat between the two of you. "Oooo party, I'm so coming." He said and you were shocked. Swallowing the food in your mouth, "Um neither of you are going." You say and Lo'ak looked at you with disbelief. "If we can't come I'll tell mom and she'll tell dad—"

"Okay, okay! Just.. don't fall asleep. I don't feel like walking your heavy sleeping ass up." You reply to them before returning your attention to your food.

And so the two boys laid awake, until they heard the soft snoring of your sisters. They crouched out of bed after you changed. And just before they climbed out the window after you they heard an all too familiar voice. "Where are you guys going?" Kiri's voice rang through your ears and you regretted even letting them come along. And before you even knew it she was tagging along as well, holding her bag and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

You curse under your breath as you walk into the woods, younger siblings on your tail. Finally you made it, the sounds of loud pamtseo howling through the wind. Ao'zuk walked up to you and your siblings, reeking of fermented nectar as his arms wrapped around your waist. "Ao'zuk." You said warningly. "Come tìyawn I just got some fresh reypaytun from Za'kin." He said hands going a little lower than wanted.

Removing his hands, "Go wait for me." You say and he stumbles to the group who passed a pipe around.

"Reypaytun really?" Kiri asked and you rolled your eyes. "I thought dad told us to never to touch that stuff." Lo'ak asked. "I don't see dad here and besides, I'm gonna go have some fun," you say, starting to walk off before turning back to your siblings, "Don't take anything anyone gives you and only drink water." You instruct your younger siblings who looked bewildered that you were leaving them.

You sit next to Ao'zuk and he hands you the pipe but not before taking a huge hit. You settle closer to his side and take a hit before passing it again waiting for the effects to take place.

And they did, your blood ran fast, puplis bigger than ever as you danced, hips and arms swaying in the wind as you danced to the beat with the others. You feet and head hurt, you grabbed onto Ao'zuk and he gives you a lazy smile as he held your hips making you dance. Your head spun and your eyes were half-lidded and red as you shook your head no. "You’re having fun." Ao'zuk laughed and you felt like you wanted to cry but all you did was smile and say yes.

Neteyam saw you from the side and he felt his stomach churn the more he saw the distress in your eyes.

Finally you stumbled off the dance floor and caught your breath. The woods, the fire, the music it was getting to you, you held your head in your hands as the trees started to move and blend together. And then you felt a hand on your arm making you blink. It was Ao'zuk he held something in his hand before sliding it to you. "It'll take the edge off." He yelled as you put it in your mouth drinking the rest of the nectar in your cup.

Stumbling to your siblings, your eyes glazed over and bloodshot red, you point to the hometree and they went. "Did you have fun?" Lo'ak asked and you looked at him and gave him a lazy smile with tears in your eyes as you spoke. "Yeah."

None of your siblings spoke of what happened that night. But Neteyam couldn't get the despair that took over your face that night. He couldn't let you ruin yourself. No matter how much you were going to hate him for what he was about to do.

Neteyam waited for you to sneak out and he knew tonight would be the night your parents got back. He waited for them with a tsmisnr to keep a dim light. As he heard the rustles of the makeshift curtain that acted like a front door, he watched his parents walk in quietly. Jake jumps a bit seeing his oldest son sitting in a dimly lit room.

"Son." Jake whispered and Neteyam’s palms got sweaty, his stomach bubbling in anxiety.

"Um, I have something to tell you guys." Neteyam said and his mother looked confused as she sat down along with her husband.

"What is it?" Neytiri asked and Neteyam looked up. "Y/N, she's been sneaking out and drinking and using Reypaytun and she takes these small flowers and I can't just watch her do this to herself and.. and so I'm telling you guys." Neteyam stammers out and he watches as Neytiri's face falls as well as his father’s, from the new load of information they learned of their eldest daughter.

"Where is she now?" Jake asks gruffly and Neteyam sighed. "At a party." Neteyam answered and Jake sighed deeply. "I will go see if my mother will watch the children and Neteyam so we can talk to her whenever she gets back." Neytiri said and Neteyam shook his head. "No, I told you guys I should be here when she comes home." Neteyam replies before Jake nodded as Neytiri picked up Tuk and woke the others up.

They waited and waited. It was quite a long time till you got back, Jake began to get irritated and Neytiri worried. And then they heard shuffling in the other room.

You walk in and don't see your siblings, worried, you walk into the other room, and your eyes widen as you see your brother sitting with your parents and avoiding eye contact with you.

"Y/N, come sit down." Jake said roughly and you clutched your bag as you sat down. "Yes..?" You say as you sit at the table that you father made. "Where were you?" Jake hoped you'd tell the truth.

You straighten your back and look down at your trembling legs. "With my friends." You reply simply and Jake clicks his tongue. "We know the truth Y/N, your brother told us." You look at him and then at Neteyam. "Told you what?" You ask, face and palms getting hot. "We know you've been sneaking out, smoking, drinking and about those flowers you take." You had a deadpan expression on your face and then you realized Neteyam had told on you.

"I don't know what your talking about." You try and lie your way out. "Neteyam told us." Neytiri said and you send a deadly glare towards your younger brother. "And you believe him! Huh?!" You exclaim and Jake holds his hands up. "Well Y/N, why would he lie about this?”

You push yourself out of your chair and rub your face before huffing. "I don't know why he would do that. But I- I have no clue what you're talking about." You refused to give it up and Neteyam just wanted it to stop.

"Open your bag Y/N." Neteyam said and you eyed him from where you were. "No." You say and Jake looks at his son and then at you. "Come 'ite give me the bag." Neytiri reaches for the bag that was placed on your shoulder and you snatch it away from the woman, panic running through your body.

"I don't know why you’re all ganging up on me." You defend yourself.

"No one is ganging up on you sweetie. Just give me the bag." Jake said and you shook your head but before you knew it he had already grabbed your bag. You tried to snatch it back but it was too late as he and your mother now stood in front of you looking between you and the bag. Your chest heaved with every breath you took. You were so nervous, more nervous than you've ever been.

Jake opened the bag and he closed his eyes as he saw a bag full of small flowers, pollen, a substance that gets you so high you forget your own name.

''Really,'' He said taking the smaller bag in his hand and throwing it on the table. You close your eyes and whisper a quiet 'fuck'. Before covering your face and huffing into your hands and taking them off and quietly laughing. ''Fuck me.'' You say as a pitful excuse of a chuckle erupts from your throat.

''I thought we taught you better than this.'' Jake said and you looked at him and laughed. ''Yeah well looks like you didn't'.” You say and then your bloodshot eyes look at Neteyam who had a confused look on his face.

''Neteyam can you leave?'' You point to the door before an irritated breath leaves your lungs and his nonexistent eyebrows furrow. “Why? Y/N, I'm just trying to help you.'' He asked and you clench your jaw. ''Because honestly looking at you makes me physically. fucking. ill.'' You yell at him making him flinch, his ears laid still on the sides of his head.

''Y/N!'' Jake yelled at you and you look over rolling your eyes. ''Neteyam, son, go with your other siblings.'' Neytiri told her eldest son who nodded and left.

Your other siblings seemed to be eavesdropping and he shooed them off they all held a shocked face. You had never yelled at them before but here you are.

Turning back to your father, you sneer, why'd Neteyam have to tell? That's what you were thinking over and over again. "Y/N I've tolerated the clothes, but now sneaking out and- and now this." He said picking up the bag on the table. Rolling your eyes once more. "Just tell us what's gotten into you, babygirl-" he goes to touch your cheek but you step away from him.

"Nothing has gotten into me, I'm sorry I'm not daddy's little girl anymore, and don't listen to every stupid rule you make. You don't know shit about me,, neither of you do so stop pretending that you do." You say before walking out of the home leaving your parents confused, what happened to their little girl?

#avatar 2 #avatar 2022 #avatar #avatar 2009 #avatar way of water #avatar x reader #avatar x reader fluff #avatar x y/n #avatar x sully!reader #sully!reader #sully family x reader #sully family #jake sully x daughter!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #neteyam x sister!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #kiri x sister!reader

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precious-little-scoundrel · 5 months

Text

Like Lightening

Summary: A Snapshot of Elvis and Elaine, newly married, hardly satiated, very in love

Warnings: 18+ entirely made up of fluff and smut and fluffy smut, sorry to the sweet ask -this got a bit off track. We don’t have them going at it like bunnies herein so much as alluding to that having been happening and determined to continue. What we do have is a lotta smutty thoughts, breeding kink, innocence kink, oral sex fem receiving, unkosher usage of baby oil, the very beginning of penetrative sex, some begging and dirty talk…most importantly we’ve got a bit of body consciousness, Elaine is slightly embarrassed by her new stretch marks and her pretty husband sets out to show her they’re incredibly cool

Word count: 5k

Hope you enjoy sweet anon, so sorry your original ask got eaten by tumblr, I hope this notification finds you!

Elaine had taken to water calisthenics classes at the Elders Club in Killeen Texas out of sheer need to move without dying of heatstroke. Swelling each day into a fluffy little matron, Elaine made house for Elvis on base one month after the next as May and then June and then July ticked on by in a sweltering dust cloud. And, whenever she wouldn’t be missed, the new Mrs Presley dashed to the pool and swam with the grandmas.

It drew a bit of a crowd, this swimming of hers, and Elvis, sympathetic and prouder than anything, took it upon himself to order from the catalogs the very best and loveliest and most advantageous swimsuits to accommodate his wife’s growing belly and plush breasts to their best advantage. He also threatened crushed jugulars and broken spines if any of his army buddies so much as drove by the dinky place for a peek at his ripe little woman.

Truth be told the larger she grew, the more evident her condition, the fruit of his loins obvious to the world, the more Elvis’ excitement for her grew. If breaking her innocence had proven more tantalizing in theory than practice and if her submission had been a versatile thing he found himself often teetering under the sway of, this, her ripening form, was one fantasy that matched his dreams.

In the early morning her plush body wrapped beside his was the only thing dragging him out of bed for basic and to watch her clip clop about in heels and a ever stretched apron while serving him breakfast was a sorta dream state of things he hadn’t dared hope would be as perfect as it was in reality. All that sickly pallor and nausea of the early months had vanished in its place he had a freckle-nosed bride shimmying into dresses increasingly too fitted. Zippers groaned and buttons popped in their little house on base and Elvis gloried in it, sat on the edge of his bed and watched her dressing struggles with splayed thighs and appreciative groans. He reveled in putting his hands on her to aid her and glutted at what he’d done to her fresh little self. He liked to tease her to “suck in” when her bust no longer fit in her old dresses.

“You’re carryin’ my whole world” he told her time and again, whispering it into her ear and squeezing her tight. He sang to his babies and they quited, he read to them from the Gospels and they kicked: “just like the John the Baptist” and in the latter months when he’d teasingly mimic a babe's cry when snuggling his wife, her breasts would begin to leak.

And now the swimsuits. Graduating up one size after another in these later months, Laney had packed on a bit of tush along with her belly and tits and the sway of it, atop long stems sat upon pretty footsies in heeled sandals, drove Elvis and half his army mates wild. See, after awhile, the secret was out and the other army wives came to swim, too. And their husbands became over eager to pick them up after class.

Threats be damned. Elaine Presley was sweet and pretty and often made chit chat with their wives and babies, towel slung uselessly over her shoulders and pool droplets running from her clavicle to the never-never-land of her bosoms when she bent to kiss a child or two goodbye. Just lanky enough to require a bend, that lady, and just affectionate enough to not content herself with head pats.

Dodger observed these things and pondered them but kept her mouth shut, sat like a disapproving crow under a umbrella and sipping gin and tonics after Elaine had insisted they wouldn’t kill her. Elaine liked to press the cold glasses to her throat when playing Bingo on the patio chairs. Eileen Macdermot went home, scandalized, one day at the way the girl splayed her legs over the side of the lounger, like a primitive or else - a man.

These things filling her days and bothering neither of the newlyweds much, if at all, Elvis had come home one evening to the smell of pork chops and gravy and no Laney in his kitchen. Their house was tiny with few rooms and after inspecting the empty single bedroom he proceeded into their bathroom and found her there, stripping out of her sodden swimsuit.

It was black, with lemons on it and white polka dots intermingled and it paired so well with her tanned skin and white headband that Elvis groaned aloud at the sight and spooked his wife who didn’t suspect him home.

“Lord, Elvis-“ She clutched her chest and heaved in a breath, smile breaking out as soon as her shock calmed, “-you’re home early.”

He wrapped a hand around the doorframe and practically lounged against it as much a person could lounge while standing, while vertical, stupid, giddy grin in place. She was halfway through stripping and there was something so very domestic, jarringly normal and almost raw about seeing his swim pink wife in a modest chipped tile bathroom of a single bedroom house, swollen and barefoot. Just one more regular American housewife among many in a tidy row of white picket fenced army accommodations.

Playing house, it was moments like these when it hit him just real enough to taste a dream and chew it and swallow it down till it fizzled out his fingers and mouth in a hunger fueled by gratitude. This wasn’t gonna last forever, not the normality of basic training or the ruthless hours of not belonging to himself, this too would pass he told himself when it got awful. But so would these precious days of just the two of them, Laney alone to putter around their house and think only of him and he to come home to her with only her on his mind and in his arms.

“Elvis?” she prodded again when he barely managed more than a soothing, faraway humm of greeting when she calmed.

“Yes Mrs. Presley?” he asked, doorframe digging into his cheek, wondering when she was going to drop the lovely sweetheart neckline she was clutching to those creamy tits that heaved under his stare like she didn’t endure such admirations regularly.

“A-are you going to-“ she was oddly hesitant, his pretty wife tonight, she’d been a bit voracious recently as the health came back to her but maybe it was just the fright.

“Am I gonna what, babydoll?” he asked softly, eyes flicking up to meet hers and he saw a little panic brewing in their warm depths. “Why, what’s this, huh? Caught ya at something?” he teased her, genuinely unsure of what was amiss and why she still clutched the soggy suit to her goose pimpled skin. “You’re gonna get cold, shuggums.” he straightened up and moved towards her, army boots mashing down the pretty green pile of the bathroom rug.

She stepped back reflexively before catching herself and giving a forced little laugh and shrug, a shrug that was very hampered in it’s carefree intentions with the way her arms crisscrossed over her chest. Perhaps he’d been too eager for her lately, he thought with self chastising consternation, perhaps she was flighty from soreness or neglect of more cerebral pursuits or maybe it was bad news from home.

“Is everything alright?” he finally asked, grave and soft spoken.

“Oh yes I was just-“ she mumbled, gesturing to the pink marbled countertop and its bottle of baby oil and pearlescent nail polish “-about to moisturize. The pool, the chlorine it…I’ve become itchy lately after going in. Doctor said it was normal, stretching and such but-“ she raised her eyes to his and they looked so young without the coal lining of cosmetics, sometimes he forgot his Tink wasn’t an ancient love goddess, just a sweet and unsure teenage girl. “I didn’t expect you home so soon.”

It didn’t make sense why her tone would be apologetic about that. He was early and she was industrious, dinner already baking and even if she hadn’t -they’d been making such ravenous love of late that often they ate charred remains of her carefully made meals or else opted for burgers at the joint in town. There’d been no apologies then; why now?

“C’mere babeh, lemme help.” he drawled and before she knew it he’d slinked across to her and laid his warm hand on her chilled shoulders.

Such lovely, large hands, they spanned her shoulders and a clavicle each, thumbs meeting like a little talisman adornment at the hollow of her throat. Seconds before he even did it she could predict the soothing swipe of his thumbs there, and so he did, and like clockwork she found herself taking in a larger breath, one that expanded her chest and made her clutched swimsuit a little obviously absurd. She used the breath he’d given her to let out a sigh of defeat.

“I’ve been growing.” she admitted rather resignedly and at this admittance Elvis had to check himself from nodding in furious, appreciative agreement, there was invisibly some catch here and in his own enjoyment of her ‘state’ he tried his damndest to recall it must be uncomfortable at best, growing and stretching and creating life inside one’s guts. Hell he wanted to die sometimes from too many sandwiches, how much fuller she must feel, about ready to burst with kids.

So he restrained his enthusiasm and nodded encouragingly. “Mhmm.”

“All perfectly normal, doctor says it is and others too, all the others say so. Nothing out of the ordinary and I was expecting it. Yet still, it’s quite-“ Elaine trailed off on this long prelude and Elvis held his breath lest his concern leach into impatience.

“Buuuuut?”

“But it doesn’t lessen that it’s quite ugly.” Once decided upon a course she finished up quite tidily but Elvis found himself further confused.

“What is, baby?” he asked, bewildered. “What’s ugly?”

“This.” she gestured resignedly at her belly and scratched the clinging nylon, her skin irritated from the pool.

“Don’t, stop that.” he chided softly, knowing it would make it worse and caught her waists in his hands, swaying them between them gently. “I don’t know what you’re on about but let’s get oil on there so you ain’t so prickly.” he suggested and let go of her hands, dropping them gently before raising his hands to her shoulders again and sensuously trailing his fingertips over the swell of her breasts till he met lemons and polka dots, and peeled the material down away ever so gently. “How’d you plan on hidin’ from me?” he asked her as the pert darlings came into view with the enlarged areolas and lengthening nipples.

“I wasn’t planning!” Elaine protested, biting her lip as he tugged further “It just- it showed up out of nowhere and it’s-“

He’d managed to peel the thing over half her ponderous belly, uncovering her belly button, when he caught sight of something entirely new. Red with a tinge of silver, a split, a crack, a bolt, scarred across her navel, running up and down -straight as a proper zig zag.

“Well. Goddamn.” he breathed, sitting back on his heels to take it in. His hand shook a little as he laid his palm on the stretch mark, an awed expression on his face as it was nearly the length of his whole hand. “Why, goddamn Tink,” he repeated, marveling, “you’ve got yourself an honest to God lightnin’ bolt on yous.”

Like her belly were heaven and in the paying of her dues for such a miracle as two lives with one body, it had been rent like a sheet. His stomach churned, something a little worshipful filling him. He took his hand away, marveling at the perfect design.

A lightning bolt. That’s not at all what Elaine expected from him, some kindness and maybe even relieving indifference, she anticipated that despite her embarrassment, but awe wasn’t on the cards. “I guess it rather does look like…that.”

“Looks like Shazam done paid you a visit, lil mama.” he nodded enthusiastically and Elaine laughed before she could help herself, thinking it funny her naked state was suddenly a costume in his mind. “Don’t you see it?” he crunched down to his knees and took her still suit clad hips in his hands and turned her towards the mirror.

“I-I suppose it bears some resemblance.” she muttered with distaste at the sight of it only more angry and prominent since the pool. “It’s a horrid color, looks like an scar already-“

“-oh hush up it’s amazing.” Elvis swatted her backside with his hand and she yelped, the jangle of his watch chain familiar as was his grinning face at belly level. “You’re mama’s all down on herself,” he loudly whispered to the babies inside her house, “don’t appreciate the fact she’s lookin’ like an gen-u-ine superhero. I know how to solve that.” he muttered darkly and Elaine felt him gather her hands again and he placed one in the counter for stability before he yanked the rest of her wet costume off, letting it pool round her ankles and helping her disentangle it.

“What are you going to do?” she asked with some trepidation as she stood fully naked before his keeling, uniformed, booted figure.

“Gonna convince ya.” he stated sure of himself before reaching for her nail polish, the pearlescent, silver shimmer of it drawing his eye like a magpie. “Gold would suit better, but between you’n’me doll, we’ll assume it’s platinum.” he murmured conspiratorially before giving her a solemn wink and unscrewing the cap.

Before she could worry for his trousers, he didn’t carry her foot to his knee and paint her toes. No. Instead he brought the tiny brush and its icy paint to her belly and began to swipe it along the design of her recent marring. Elaine gasped at the chill and in shock of his ingenuity, the tongue bitten concentration on his pretty face and the way his free hand splayed on her skin like an artist’s beside its canvas, anchoring his work.

Tink was yet a new little thing, barely broken into the art of the marriage bed and now accommodating his children, her bred little body hadn’t yet widened in all the ways it would eventually come labor. Her hips were beginning to comically expand whereas her waist in the back remained tapered and gave her a nearly illustrated quality to her proportions, that Elvis had begun to obsess over watching in the mirror when he was taking her.

Everything about her was ripe and taut and now this. He found his eyes going glossy and he tried to finish his painting in a tidy manner, his groin pusing distractingly beneath the material of his slacks as he worked lower, catching a whiff of her own interest in those soft curls.

He could almost taste her by memory.

He pulled away and surveyed his work, immensely pleased with the glistening silver lightning bolt stamped across his children's abode.

“It’ll smear with the oil.” was all she said, soft, distant.

“Then we’ll have to let it dry.” he decided, letting his fingers trace up the backs of her shapely thighs, appreciating soft flesh and toned ridges. He gave it some thought before he pursed his lips and blew. His cold breath blasted against the freezing polish and Elaine felt herself start, a gush of arousal puddling between her lips, almost burning at her entrance as she tried to clench it shut, keep some demureness in the face of it all. She thought she’d caught him sniffing, it wouldn’t do to have her legs a running mess with her need.

But the chilled ghosting of his breaths, the tantalizing burn of his fingertips’ trail- they made her throb and Elaine let out a helpless little moan, shifting on the pink rug in restless wanting.

“What’s that, baby honey?” he asked softly, looking up at her equal parts eager and questioning. “Makin’ you feel funny?”

“It’s the oddest sensation.” she shivered.

“What’s it make you want?”

“You.”

“Which’aways?”

“All of the ways.” she giggled bashully and stared at her swollen reflection and his at faucet level in the mirror, kneeling still. She chose to put her foot on the counter top, opposite hand balancing against the wall, “Elvis, won’t you lick me, please?” she asked.

“Since you ask so nicely.” he whispered, “And since you hold the power of a million universes.” he gestured to her belly once more before ducking his head running his nose along the seam of her slit, nudging her nosing like a puppy.

He hadn’t even kissed her mouth in greeting. He regretted that before opening his poofy lips and beginning to caress her pretty pink labia like he was smooching a lover. A gush let out against his chin, she must’ve been keeping that to herself for some time, there was too much of it. As was the pained moan that followed as her cunt clenched around nothing at his expert manipulations and teases. He opened his jaw and gathered as much of her in as he could before closing his mouth and sucking, amused at the sounds of shock she made as he swirled her, guarding her from his teeth, just his tongue and lips and the hot inferno of his mouth turning her to puddy.

He reached into his pants pocket and adjusted himself, and finding the need to touch too strong to ignore, he kept his hand there and jostled his stick and balls like a boy, moaning further into the taste of her as she came down from her high. She tasted different since pregnancy, and of late, was wet at whim. Elaine was as puzzled and shocked by the changes in her own body as he was, and it gave Elvis immense satisfaction to further surprise her with what he could draw from it. It drove him mad, this shock of hers, and he flattened his tongue and gave her a few parting, broad strokes to collect his winnings as she shoved at his shoulders in helpless, sensitive distress, yelping and shuttering and her propped leg kicking the bottle of oil over and off the counter.

He caught it before it hit the ground without even pulling his face from her muff. Elaine giggled again at his skill before whining at his repeated attempts to slurp at her sensitivity.

“You still gots an itch, lil mama?” he asked her, finally pulling away and looking up at her from under the dome of her belly, his hands planted on hips and his face aglow with her pleasure.

“I do.” she whined breathily, slumping against the wall.

He neared her again with his face and she questioned his motive the whole way until he stuck out his tongue and tried the nail polish on her belly. “S’dried.” he informed her as if he hadn’t just done a stupid thing and then with a decisive nod of his head, swiftly rose back to his full height and presented his hand to her.

“You come with me now, and I’ll tend to it.” he said and, meek as a lamb, Elaine put her little hand into his sticky one and he tugged her into the bedroom, oil bottle in hand. “If we’d been bad, mamas, if we’d been real naughty like, if I’d been a lil less good to ya, we’d be a couple of young folks new married and you swellin’ and barely a pan on the stove or a mattress on much else but floor. We wouldn’t be playin’ house in this lil shack, we’d be livin’ it and barely makin’ it.” he explained to her and Elaine was confused by his meaning, his analogy too, and where this was coming from, but pliant and tripping over her own feet from post orgasmic clumsiness, she chose not to question it, assumed it was play acting of sorts as he led her to the foot of their bed and sat himself down on the floor, still holding her hand. “But even then, Laney baby,” he glowed up at her with a bright, crooked grin on his slick face, “even if we was poor as dirt, I’d invest in a mirror so I could watch that tight lil snatch under your pretty belly swallowing me down like it’s got hunger pains.”

Elaine whirled around and stared at the mirror opposite the bed, positioned lovingly in the tiny space of a walkway where she might view the effect of her outfits and he might straighten his uniform, but perhaps more intentionally, it was placed opposite the bed where Elvis managed to configure them most times in some manner and at some point in their lovemaking so that they were near the foot of the bed and he might watch. Recently Elaine had come to enjoy the nearly lewd prospect of her growing body being gripped and kneaded and caressed, the unarguable beauty of it in the reflected image convincing her of prettiness she herself did not always feel.

The act, him, her responses to them both -they were all still new to her and now this, this pregnancy and the surprise of a million unexpected things.

Surveying themselves in the mirror she thought he looked a bit more debauched than herself, fully dressed though he was. He sat on the floor like a drunk, pussy dazed and loose, legs splayed and collar wet, pit stains prominent and swollen outline bulging in his pants. In his dishevelment he looked worse news than her wholesome nakedness and she licked her lips at the thought that it wasn’t at all wrong to indulge in such a dangerous fella. He belonged to her, and she to him.

“Did you ever think about it, Elvis?” she asked eagerly, her face aflame.

“Think of what, darlin?” he murmured, lazily undoing his fly and pulling himself out, pumping his fat pink member with an elegant pump of his wrist, ogling her appreciatively like she was a poster looming above him and not a living woman stepped between his thighs.

It made her drip. Elaine could feel the slick down to her knee, a stray dribble escaping her curls. Since marrying, since rubbing shoulders with other married women and being allowed into the gossipy little circles on base, she had begun to grow an inkling of awareness that her case was rather special. It was true, all couples made love, most couples had children, and plenty of couples were in love. But there were extracurriculars, such as she had been led to believe quite common in her own marriage, that were rarely mentioned by others, and if so, done with scandalized and hurried admittance. Elaine had begun to notice that while plenty of men liked their wives, wanted their wives even, there was a peculiar singleness of focus to her husband‘s interest in her that was not matched by others. Why, she’d even become aware of men’s magazines and the reasons for their existence, and yet never had seen one in her husband‘s possession, although she had awoke plenty of times to the sight of him pleasuring himself over her sleeping form, or as he was now, unabashedly admiring his view. She was in essence, both fantasy and form for him.

It was enough to make any woman proud and wet.

“Think of what?” he repeated with a laugh and an edge to his voice, looking up at her under an arch brow.

Elaine snapped out of her daydream and stepped up to him, enjoying the way his hands cupped the back of her knees, a little tickle, his head leaned back against the mattress. “Did you ever think to -think of…taking me sooner?” she asked, carding her fingers through his hair. “Ruining me early?” she smiled at the thought, at how clueless and helpless she’d have been if one of those nights on the den floor at Graceland during their short engagement, if one of those times he had rolled atop her - her sleeping father be damned - and had his way. It wasn’t his style but she wondered, what with the way Elvis could barely make it to the wedding, now that she knew what she knew, she wondered. In another world, would she have been a plundered little thing and he a dutiful young bachelor with a set of twins in need of a baptism to cover their conception?

“Thought of it every goddamn night.” he admitted earnestly, “Ruined a couple dozen pants over it.”

“No!”

“Mhmm.”

“Heavens. But never- you never-“

“-not while I was with ya. Bad as I wanted it.” he tisked, “I done told ya, you’re special baby. I was savin’ ya, couldn’t have brought myself to it, had plans for ya.”

Those plans of his were kicking and rolling in her belly as her heart rate sped up with the gentle trailing of his fingers over her thighs and the sight of his bobbing cock, jutting out from his uniform pants.

“I see.” Elaine simpered and pressed her palms to his own, swaying over him before he tugged her down, doing a pretty, clumsy little split over his lap. He groaned at the contact and the sight of her bare backside in the mirror.

“I missed ya today, Mrs. Presley.” he informed her as always and Elaine was grinning when he slotted his mouth against hers in a long overdue lover’s greeting.

Elaine blithely allowed him his smooching way across her throat and the swell of her decollage as she set to undoing his tie with loving firmness, and then stripping the pungent material of his worn shirt off his shoulders and at last tugging his trousers further down which broke his kisses contact and caused much protest. She stayed firm however, insisting that painting her belly with polish was one thing, but if he thought she was going to risk baby oil stains on that uniform, he had another thing coming.

“Your supposition bein’ that I’ll be in some position for stainin’!” he protested as if she were the one with all the wiles and meddlesome ideas.

“What plans did you have for it?” She asked dryly, crouched at his feet and yanking his boots off with much eagerness and little finesse.

“I intended to slather it on my wife.”

“Funny how what’s slathered on me always ends up slathered on you.” she pondered with a pretentious finger to her lips before she was tugged back atop his now bare lap, and spun so that she could lean against his chest.

“S’not always slathered.” he rebuts in a low tone, his voice gone intimate at the new position and their bare cuddling. Elvis hooked his chin over her shoulder and petted the lightening bolt gleaming so well in the mirror, the late summer’s sun beaming through the slanted blinds. He should close them before he did what he intended, before they got nekid in the first place, but if they were just any ole new couple there’d be no need with being off the road and the blinds partially drawn.

He squeezed her harder and reached for the oil. “S’not always slathered, sometimes I manage to get it real nice’n’deep, don’t I?”

Elaine sucked in a shaky breath as she felt him shift beneath her in his reach, the hot, eager firmness of him cradled under her cunt lips. She felt their privates begin to pulse in unison.

“Don’t I?” he asked her, one oily hand splayed low on her belly and the other gripping her jaw.

“Yes.” Elaine moaned, her head lolling back against his shoulder so she might keep his gaze.

His hand began to move again.

Slathering.

“Hmm?”

“Yes, daddy.” she whispered, and saw him smirk in satisfaction.

Witchcraft, it was, the way his hand could go through all the same motions as before but like a switch flipped, his own intent could bleed into his touch and suddenly he had gone from tending her stretched skin to driving her mad, oil and warmth spreading all over her, her breasts shining, her shoulders shining, her thighs aglow and golden.

Shining, all of her.

Elvis hooked his hands under her knees and spread her legs, bent and wide, feet settled far apart on either side of his own thighs. She could see little Elvis twitching futilely against his thigh, glossy, shiny, leaking oil himself. She cupped them both and did some slathering herself, wiping his arousal up her slit, rubbing his head and her puffy bud with her fingertips, the both of them moaning and whimpering in unison at the tease.

“Baby, baby let’s…let’s…” he was saying urgently and she pulled her hand away at his direction, allowing him to bring the bottle between their legs.

She felt that patter of drops against her clit and the silky run of it down to his cock. She ached, back arched and hips grinding against him like she could start a fire with the friction if she moved insistently enough.

“I-I-I want it!” she begged, overcome and her neck straining as she tilted her face to the ceiling. Waterstains patterned the white paint and she squeezed her eyes shut in a exstastic grimace as she felt him pull at his cock and tap it, all oily slapping, at her spread petals. “Elvis, please, please put it in.”

“Mm, m’not sure you’re slick enough.” he disagreed slyly, rubbing his glans against her fiery little hole as her legs kicked out in frustration. She knew he was staring in the mirror at his handiwork without even having to glance there herself. She squinted harder and aimed a thrust downwards, catching him. It was bend or enter. She had him, it took great willpower to hide her smirk as his breath gusted against her cheek.

“My baby still got an itch?” he asked softly, his large hand cupping their joining, just the tip of him snug and cozy inside her swollen channel.

“Yeah.”

“Where?” Elvis rumbled in her ear.

She took his shiny hand and spread it low on the lightening bolt, “Here, real deep.” Elaine whispered, “Right hyer.”

Hope y’all enjoyed! Your “bugging” and “screaming” is music to my ears, fuel to my fire and keeps me writing, please never hold back -this is a safe space for feral little Elvis loving rodents…like you and me.

If you’d like to be tagged in this particular series please drop a note below. Xoxo 💋

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amonsteronmaplestreet · 1 year

Text

I was a changeling child. My parents begat a child who laughed and giggled and played as babes do, but it was taken from them. The fair folk came in the night, and they spirited my parents’ true child away, and in its place they left me.

Though I looked identical to the taken babe, in the morning my parents knew immediately that I was not truly the fruit of their loins. I did not laugh as children do, nor play as children do, and as I grew up I behaved in strange ways and knew secrets I should not have known. They did not know why the fair folk took their child and left a duplicate in its place, but they tried their best to send me back and to have their true progeny returned.

They cried, at first. They despaired. That night my father, deep in his cups, rushed out into the woodlands beyond the village and bellowed out a demand that the fair folk take this creature back, that they retrieve this thing, this mockery in human skin, and give him his true child. But if the fair folk heard his demands, they did not heed them. No matter what my parents did, they could not return me.

So they reconciled themselves to the simple fact that their child was gone, and they settled on secrecy. They did all they could to hide the truth of me from the others in the village, did all they could to help me to blend in with the people and affect some semblance of humanity. Gradually, I learned.

In time, I think, they came to love me. In time, I think, they came to forget their true child—or at the very least to convince themselves that they had been mistaken that morning, that no switch had ever been made. Yet there was always a distance between us, and though that distance would grow shorter with the passing of the years, it never truly closed.

I was a changeling child, and though I sought to hide this fact, it seemed that the humans could always tell. Countless were the times when I would meet someone and they would look at me oddly, and later I would overhear them speaking with others about what a strange and off-putting creature I was.

It seemed that, even if they did not know for certain, even if they were unaware of the secrets of the fair folk and the nature of the changeling, they knew upon speaking with me that there was something different, something not quite right, about this stranger in their midst.

Oftentimes they would attempt to be friendly, at least at first. A man would reach out to shake my hand. A woman would look me in the eye and smile. But I would recoil at the man’s touch, and when I looked the woman in the eye in turn I would be greeted by all that she was.

I would see an intensity, a vastness, a wealth of humanity so overwhelming that I would have no choice but to turn away. Thus I would be deemed “rude.” Thus I would be called “cowardly.”

My thoughts were not their thoughts, and my actions were strange. The other children of the village would make a game out of mocking me, though it was rare that I would realize at first that that was what they were doing. I would gladly participate in my own humiliation, thinking it nothing more than a game, and thus would receive even more of their mirthful cruelty. When the truth of the situation would—belatedly—come to me, I would run home and cry into my mother’s skirts, and she would offer me all the hollow tokens of comfort that a mother is obliged to give to her child.

But she did not understand why I cried, and she would resent me for my difference. Over time, I grew to recognize this truth as well, and I grew distant from her. I learned how to hide my feelings, to disguise the intensity of my emotions. When they threatened to rise up and consume me, my mind would go numb and my soul would still itself, and so I would become empty and shielded from the turmoil within my own heart.

I was a changeling child, and as I grew, I learned all the ways to hide what I was. I learned to wear a false smile like those upon the faces all around me, and I learned to hide my discomfort at others’ touch. I forced down food which was revolting in texture, even as my stomach churned and I desired nothing less than to retch it up.

But even as my proficiency in this farce grew, the suspicion of those around me never truly faded. No matter how well I hid my difference, now matter how adept I became at wearing my human mask, they could always sense that I was not one of them, that I did not belong among their kind.

Still I worked to bury my truth. I stilled my emotions and I hid their intensity, but this ruse did nothing to quell their power. That intensity, though denied an outlet, remained. It roiled and it churned within me, and whenever I was fool enough to let my guard down, to relax my control just a little, it bubbled to the surface and overwhelmed me. I would scream and I would thrash as these emotions took hold, and my parents would take me and beat me and scold me for my outburst. And still I would scream until my voice was hoarse, until exhaustion claimed me and my bruised body fell still once more.

I was a changeling child, and when I was on the cusp of adulthood I wandered through the forest outside my village and basked in its peace. I let my mind grow still as I walked, and I left behind all the worries of my daily life. This became a routine, and I would often find time to walk beneath the trees.

One day in the midst of that wandering, I happened upon a pond of clear water. Standing there, at the edge of that pond, I looked down upon my reflection and I pondered the question of who I was. I desired to know the truth of myself, and to know what sort of creature had truly been left in that crib all those years ago.

I reached up with my hands and I grasped my face and tugged at my skin. It came off without resistance, peeled off with an ease that I never before would have imagined. There was no pain, not the slightest discomfort. Instead, with each new tearing, as each strip of flesh fell away, I was filled with a greater and greater sense of elation and freedom. When I was done, I stared down into the pond, and in my reflection I now beheld for the first time my true face, and I saw that I am grotesque and I am beautiful and I am alien and I am me.

Turning from the pond, I walked once more through the forest, and by the time I returned to the village my human face had grown back, for the people there could never look upon what I truly was. I left the forest, and I slipped in among humanity, masking the truth of my heart.

I was a changeling child, and when our village was in the grip of its harvest festival I stood alone at the edge of the crowd. The people danced, though none would dance with me. Humans played instruments and sang songs and the volume and the cacophony of it all filled my ears and filled my head until I felt that familiar numbness creeping through my senses to protect me.

All made merry. They drank and they laughed and couples snuck away into the shadows, giggling to themselves as they did was couples do away from prying eyes.

Alone, I watched it all play out, until soon enough I grew weary and retired away to quiet solitude, exhaustion heavy upon me though I had done so little.

That night I slept deeply, so thorough was my fatigue. I slept alone, with a weight heavy upon my soul. I found myself yearning for touch, even as I feared it.

I was a changeling child, and always I have been averse to the company of humans.

It was on the farms, and in the barns, and in the wilderness surrounding my village that I found kinship. Dogs swiftly grew to trust me, and the cats who hunted rodents in our food stores felt no fear of me. The people of the village soon learned that I had a knack for working with animals, and many were the days that I spent among the sheep and among the cattle, caring for them and protecting them and comforting them.

Even the wild beasts beyond the village did not fear me. In the forest I would find wolves, who sat by my side and rubbed their snouts against my arm as though they were tamed hounds. I found deer; the fawns and the doe would accept my hands against their fur, and the stags would bow their heads before me and allow me to pass them by unchallenged.

I was no threat to the creatures of the wild, and they understood this and accepted me. I did not challenge them, and my presence did not rile their passions nor offend their senses. When I was not working in the barns of the fields, I was in the forest, resting with a fox curled up on my lap as I watched the birds flit through the trees above me, and I was thinking deeply of this world I had been left in, and of all its wonders.

I was a changeling child, and when a troupe of performers came to our village I was among the crowd that gathered to watch them. I was soon drawn deep into the tale they spun and the story they pantomimed, and soon enough my attention settled upon one player in particular, who took note of me in turn.

We were the same, such was obvious. We were both changeling children, and when the play was done we found each other and shared with one another our truth. We bore ourselves openly in a way that we never had before, and we retired together and shed our skin and our disguises and for the first time exposed our beauty and our strangeness to another.

Together, we shared an intimacy both intense and magical. Together we were ourselves, bare and without pretense, our masks forgotten for just a little while. We held each other without discomfort, and we knew each other in our minds and in our hearts and in our flesh.

When the morning came, we said our farewells. The troupe left the village, and I returned to my everyday life.

I was a changeling child, and I live now in a little house at the edge of the village. I tend to my garden and to my chickens, and I care for my dogs who guard the coop and my cats who patrol my plants.

When I go to the market to sell my vegetables and my hens’ eggs, the people are courteous but they are not warm, which suits me well. We complete our transactions and I return home to my quiet and my animals. Children point and whisper among themselves as I pass, and the people of the village give me a wide berth.

My parents, for that is what I call them and that is what they were, are gone now. I live a simple life, and I am satisfied. Sometimes, however, my heart yearns for companionship; the sort that cannot be found among the beasts, and I recall the theater troupe and I wonder if I will ever again meet another who is like me. On occasion I will try, in my own fumbling way, to reach out to a villager, but the intimacy I crave continues to elude me.

For I am a changeling child, and my place is not among the humans of the village—nor will it ever be.

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#short story #fantasy #fairy tale #changeling #autism #my dumb life #my writing

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