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suuuupernovaaa · 1 year

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muntxa si

MUNTXA SI: (english) to mate with, marry

(Adult) Neteyam vehemently opposes his human mate becoming Na’vi, for fear of losing her.

This story makes many assumptions - just go with them to enjoy the ride.

2,247 words.

The strength with which Neteyam opposed the idea, right from the very start, was a shock to everyone who knew him. When his mother first mentioned it, she saw a familiar fury in his eyes, one she knew she’d worn many times.

His brother nearly lost his head when he brought it up, and his father hadn’t even tried to broach the subject.

What he didn’t know was that they weren’t bringing it up of their own accord, though it was something they’d thought about before. They were bringing it up because I had brought it up to them first.

I was the only one who wasn’t shocked by his reaction. I knew that all Neteyam would see was the danger and risk involved, and there was nothing more detestable to Neteyam than putting me in harm’s way. This was a sometimes annoying but mostly reassuring trait of his, especially given that, as a human living on Pandora, danger was lurking around nearly every corner for me. Ewya had blessed me with a strong and capable - but slightly overbearing - protector.

After weeks of his family telling me it was me who would have to convince him, I finally plucked up the courage.

We sat in our Mauri pod, late at night, and the words spilled out of my mouth before I could fully control them.

“I want to become Na’vi. Norm has an Avatar for me, he’s been hiding it since I was little, and he told me on my 20th birthday. It’s fully mature now.”

Neteyam sat at the edge of our pod, his legs dangling over the edge and into the water, and he spun around so fast that his braids smacked the wall of the Mauri.

His eyes narrowed and he lowered his chin. “No.”

Taking a deep breath beneath my mask, I stood up. “You don’t get to decide for me, Teyam. I have decided, and I know the clan will support me.”

“No!” He was standing too now, towering over me at nearly twice my height, but he could never scare or intimate me, even if he truly tried.

“Listen to me, Neteyam. You are only thinking of the risk involved, and not the reward. I can’t survive here forever, as one of the last humans. What if the air tanks run out? How will we live our lives together, with me in this human body? Have you considered the fact that your lifespan is twice mine? What will you do when I am too old, even, to run and swim? I won’t live like that, Neteyam!”

I felt hot tears in my eyes, and tried to blink them away in frustration. “You can’t force me to live a half-life with you when a full life is within my grasp! I know Ewya will give this to me. She wouldn’t have brought me to you if she didn’t want us to be together.”

Neteyam’s hands rested on my shoulders, enveloping me, stressing to the both of us our impractical size difference.

“Y/N... you don’t know that she will give this to us. She may take you home to her.”

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, trying to ignore the panic I could see in his face.

“I have to do this, Neteyam. We won’t have a future together if I don’t. Norm and the others... they talk about having to leave, without a permanent colony here. Their supplies won’t last forever. They would either take me, or leave me here to die with no oxygen.”

Neteyam pulled me down, so we were sitting face to face, our legs crossed.

“I cannot lose you, Y/N.”

“This is our best chance, Neteyam. Please. Please let me do this.”

As much as I had been pretending it was only my choice, and I didn’t need his permission, I knew I couldn’t do it without his blessing. That just wasn’t something I could do to Ma Teyam.

I watched his chest rise and fall with deep breaths as he contemplated.

“We will do this, Y/N, and if Ewya takes you, I will follow you to her myself and bring you back.”

It took time to plan - time that was exciting for all of us. We decided to fly back to the Tree of Souls to give my human body the best chance, since with the Metkayina, the ceremony would have to take place under water.

The Omatikaya welcomed the Sullys, and one sky person, back with open arms. After all, it wasn’t as if I was a stranger to them - I had many friends to greet, as well.

The ceremony was set for the night after our return. Neteyam was quiet at dinner, and his mother watched him cautiously.

“Son,” she said, handing him a plate, “I see the spirit within Y/N. It reminds me of your father - strong, stubborn, a little frustrating.” She smiled, but Neteyam couldn’t bring himself to follow suit. “She will be okay.”

She gripped her son’s arm and he nodded, but the sinking feeling in his chest was there to stay, until the ceremony was complete.

Neteyam walked with me, hand and hand, through the large crowd there to witness my birth - or my funeral.

I could feel the tension radiating through his body, but no matter what I said, I wasn’t able to ease it for him. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous, myself.

There she lay - me, but not me. Tall, with long, thick black hair and eyes that would surely be a piercing gold when opened. She was beautiful; it was the first I was seeing her.

“Oh, Neteyam...” I said, a lump in my throat, and gripped his arm tightly as we approached the tree.

He placed his hand over mine. “You can still change your mind,” he said, but with a sly smile, the first I’d seen him wear in a while - he knew there was little chance of that.

He lifted me up and placed me next to my new body, where the spiritual leader of the Omatikaya waited, a serene and focused look on her face.

She gestured for me to lay down, and I turned to Neteyam. Maybe it was the proximity to the Tree of Souls, but I felt a calm - and tried to convey it to Neteyam with a smile. His family stood behind him, taking their seats to join the ceremony. Neteyam would stay with me until it was done.

He nodded, and I could practically see his heart beating through his chest as he helped me to lay down, my head inches from my avatar’s.

“You will sleep now. Be calm,” a voice above me said, and I had only time to tell Neteyam I loved him before I sank away.

Watching her eyes close, a panic gripped Neteyam’s heart and he felt as if he could vomit in front of the entire clan.

He turned and sought his mother, and would have been embarrassed to do so in any other situation. She was seated between his brother and father, all holding hands with eyes closed, chanting to Ewya.

He watched as Ewya reached up, covering his mate in feather light touches, and he put his hands on her, praying to Ewya, reminding Ewya how much this human woman meant to him.

Silently, he told Ewya of the first time they’d met, at only six years old, and of their first kiss at 12, how she fought with him through the Great War despite her size, how long it took him to work up the courage to ask her to be his mate, and how they cried together when she said yes.

This woman is my life, Great Mother, he prayed, I ask that you return her to me in either body here, and we will make the most of this life we have together.

Every minute felt like an hour, and then the Tsahik reached over and pulled the mask off of his love’s face.

She was gone, at least from this form.

“She is passing through Ewya now, Neteyam, and you must guide her back,” the Tsahik said.

He leapt carefully over to her avatar body, taking it in for the first time. Those were her lips, the shape of her eyes, the sharp dip between her nose and mouth - all his favorite things about her, right here.

“Yawne,” he said, reaching out to touch her soft face, “can you hear me? Follow my voice. Come back to me so that we may return home together, and live the life you promised me.”

He looked to the Tsahik, who nodded in encouragement and resumed chanting. The cries of the clan rose around him, his father and mother’s the loudest, and he steadied his shaking body with a deep breath.

“Y/N, Yawne, hear my voice and follow it. I will wait for you forever - remember the promise I made. Do not deliver two souls to Ewya this day.”

He nearly shot back when the woman before him took a gasping breath, and amber eyes shot open.

It’s impossible to describe how it happens. It’s not a wordly experience, and there are no words to properly convey it.

Ewya is real, and she gave me a second chance at life.

Neteyam’s face hovered inches above mine as I gasped for air. He slipped his hand around the back of my neck and pulled me up, and even in this new body, in my disoriented state, I was acutely aware that I was naked.

“Yawne,” Neteyam whispered, and I saw the tears spilling from his eyes. He only called me Yawne - beloved - once before, when he asked me to be his mate.

“Tiyawn,” I replied, my voice breathy and almost foreign to my ears. My ears! I reached up, trailing my hand over my thick hair and reaching up to feel the pointy, blue ears atop my head. A giggle escaped before I could stop it.

“Can you stand?” he asked, gripping my arms.

I leaned into him. “I am naked.”

“You are Na’vi now,” he replied with almost a shrug, “but I will carry you if it concerns you.”

“I think you should, my legs feel weak.”

They felt strong. My entire body felt strong, and I couldn’t wait to learn how to use it.

I glanced over my shoulder to see myself. My former self. As Neteyam lifted me into his arms and stood up, I thought I should cry for her... but she didn’t feel like me, not anymore.

The clan cheered and whooped, hollered and threw their arms triumphant in the air, as Neteyam stood with me and let out what sounded like a war cry, shaking me in his arms.

The joy in his face was like nothing I had ever seen before. It was beautiful, especially seen through these new eyes.

He rushed through the crowd, to his Ikran, and mounted in one fell swoop with me in his arms.

The Ikran felt so much smaller than she had when we’d arrived less than an hour ago, but of course, I was the one who had grown over three feet.

He took off, holding the saddle with one arm and me tightly in the other, to a place we could be alone.

Back at our temporary home, I was finally able to take a breath and try my new body out. For my first few steps, I had to hold Neteyam’s hands, until I got the hang of it.

I felt weak, but I knew that would wear off. This body was strong, and I was going to make it even stronger, so I could finally keep up with Neteyam.

The thought made me burst into tears as he searched through his mother’s things for something I could wear.

“What is it, Y/N? Do you hurt?” he asked, rushing to my side with only a necklace in his hands.

Embarrassed, I tried to wave him off, but he was too on edge. “Tell me, Yawne. Tell me what you need.”

I threw my arms around his neck and pulled him tightly to me. My face rested perfectly on his chest, where before, it was just over his waist - making hugging an awkward feat. We fit perfectly together now, and it made me cry even harder.

“I’m just so happy and grateful, Neteyam.” I pulled back, wiping at my tears. “Tell me what you think.”

“What I think?” he asked, turning his head to the side.

“Of... me. Of my body. Do you still, I mean, do you like it?”

His gaze softened and he reached up to cup my cheek. “I have loved you for 15 years, Y/N. I loved you human form. Your small body, your beautiful soft hair, and your light eyes. I loved every moment of our life together.”

The tears threatened to return.

“But this... this is my dream, Y/N. I see it now, what you’ve always seen. You were meant to be one of The People, to be with me, to be the mother of my children and my mate for life.”

A smile spread across my new face so wide, I thought it might crack. “I love you, Neteyam.”

He pulled me into his strong arms, and we took a deep breath together.

“Forever,” he whispered in my ear.

I squeezed him tight. “Forever.”

#avatar #avatar 2 #neteyam #avatar way of the water #neteyam x reader

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ozzgin · 9 months

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I am absolutely in love with mommy prehistoric reader😍🧎‍♀️.

Idk if you like the idea , but imagine someone coming to close to the twins. And mommy reader and pickle are carefully watching what happens. But when the person gets to close reader gives the baby’s to pickle. And then goes after the person who got to close with her babies. And simply beats the living crap out of them.🤭

(Also I am sorry about requesting so much mommy/pregnancy headcannons with a baddie mom)

The general consensus seems to be that prehistoric reader needs a comeback as a protective mother of 2 infants and multiple grown men. Makes a lot of sense and I’m here for it!

Baki Headcanons: Prehistoric Mother! Reader

Featuring Pickle, his challengers, and an aggressively protective ancient reader that has taken everyone under her (buff) wing.

You’ve always approached the men with a certain sense of fragility (to their shame and dismay), as if you needed to be extra careful not to break them. Pickle has fought them and tested their sturdiness himself, so he treats them without gloves like any creature of his status. You’re not as certain, especially now that you’ve become a mother.

It’s not just the hormones being all over the place, though the heightened oxytocin levels have certainly contributed to your peculiar attachment to the modern creatures. Holding the two little beings that have made their way out safe and healthy (despite being frozen for millennia, might I add), a certain kind of newfound protectiveness blooms within you. They will grown and go out into the world and face threats and dangers and you wish to serve as their guardian for as long as possible.

In fact, you’re now more than ever convinced of your purpose. You have no desire to showcase your strength unless with the purpose of assuring the safety of those around you. The power bestowed upon you is not for conquering worlds, but to fortify the walls around them.

So now it’s harder than ever to refuse your random acts of motherly care. Katsumi has fully resigned to his new role as he doesn’t have the heart to push you away. He already has two mothers, one extra won’t make any difference. Besides, if he lets you groom him he can hold and play with the worryingly muscular babies. He finds the twins entertaining and they’re equally amazed by his karate tricks.

Retsu accepts your affections with solemn silence. He doesn’t particularly care for the children, but he’s surprisingly patient with their shenanigans. He’s rather curious to see when their strength will overcome his.

To Pickle’s annoyance, Baki has started calling him ‘dad’ jokingly whenever you groom him or take care of him. You’re very protective of the young boy and despite managing to use simple sentences by now, you prefer to deter Yuujirou away with quick threatening growls.

Jack detests the public displays that you insist on, feeling as if he’s infantilized, though he’s rather hesitant to downright reject your service. Especially since the…incident.

In fact, all of them are tiptoeing around you in hopes that your instincts will cool down over time. They’ve had to witness firsthand what happens when someone disregards your boundaries. The stranger might’ve had good intentions, nonetheless the same in your eyes the moment they got too close to the twins. You didn’t say much, just placed the children in Pickle’s arms and dragged the clueless person to a quiet place nearby. Needles to say you returned alone.

The worst thing about the whole ordeal was your flaccid smile that never left your face. Most humans are so weak they don’t even elicit the slightest frown from you. It hadn’t even registered in your head as a fight. The men gulped in unison and just minded their business for the rest of the day. Being groomed is a small price to pay if it saves them from your anger.

#baki #baki the grappler #baki headcanons #baki x reader #pickle baki #pickle x reader

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throwaway-yandere · 3 months

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Ansy maybe I can send an idea about this. Maybe this yandere is turning into a zombie/monster, Reader sacrifices or willingly let's the yandere eat reader so the yandere wouldn't hurt others. Other idea, Yandere is a monster/cannibal and reader has a flesh that is very addicting to eat so yandere feels guilty for eating their darling but can't as darling tastes so delicious.

A/n: I'm actually currently writing the prompt I got earlier so here's some short ideas. also, what's up with me writing cannibalism fics for two older brothers with blue-white color schemes?? *shrug*. I'll go with the 2nd idea-ish (I'll tweak it again) in this one. First time doing headcanons so... I'll adios lol.

Content Tags: hello its yandere cannibalism lmao + Whodunit spoilers

YANDERE CANNIBAL!SUNDAY who strangely takes too long to respond to his childhood friend's messages. You're starting to get worried that he's spending too much time inside the dreamscape. Although your race greatly differs from his- being an ordinary human resident and all- you heard numerous stories that Halovians tend to carnally seek glamorous feasts after hosting series of events.

YANDERE CANNIBAL!SUNDAY who finally replied to your recent message, telling you "DON'T COME, PLEASE." with bold capital letters. You can only raise an eyebrow, considering you're already on his front door with a fruit basket at hand. In hindsight, perhaps you should've considered giving him a heads-up beforehand instead of rudely announcing your visit. But you are genuinely worried for his overall wellbeing, especially given what happened to his sister.

And perhaps, you were also just looking for someone who could understand your grief as well. He wasn't the only one stripped of their family so suddenly. The thought of your friend starving himself had pushed your own sadness away in favor of sheer platonic worry. That was how strong your bond was.

YANDERE CANNIBAL!SUNDAY who shook, mortified at the knocks on his front door. As much as possible, he can't let you in. The current nightmare he calls "HUNGER" was an unforgiving beast. He leaned against the other side of the closed door, breathing heavily.

"(Y/n), n-now is not the time for a visit! Forgive me for this crudeness, but I shan't open the door at present." You hear him inhale shakily. "To have you see me like this undermines all the work I've put in our... friendship."

You sighed. "Alright, I'm sorry. But... can I please just leave this on your porch?"

"... I will not bar you from doing so..."

"Thank you."

YANDERE CANNIBAL!SUNDAY whose hands refused to stop trembling. You're so close. He can almost taste you behind that door. A chill runs down his spine as he noticed just how much his mouth was watering at the thought of taking a bite.

YANDERE CANNIBAL!SUNDAY who thought himself most detestable for his cravings. The Odes of Harmony preaches honesty among its many virtues, and he would drown himself for omitting the grim truth from you. THEY will not be happy with this relapse of his.

YANDERE CANNIBAL!SUNDAY who bit his thumb, drawing blood. THEY wouldn't endorse this behavior from a representative of the Family.

YANDERE CANNIBAL!SUNDAY who looked at his bleeding finger and laughed sorrowfully at the lingering question on his mind.

Whose blood was it? His... or THEIRS?

Sunday could never be at ease after committing this crime. A Halovian like himself would never allow their vision to be clouded in red, and it appears the devil had saw an opportunity to hurl at two birds with one stone. But that would be an inaccurate way to describe it. His wings had not been clipped; he had brutally torn it away himself.

Penacony's most shrewd man lied to the arrogant fool that evening. There were four murders in that timeframe. One was a stowaway, the other was his precious sister, and the last pair was both your father and mother.

THEIR vision of a happy future for you did not welcome HIM.

All he recalls now was their polite disapproval turned screams when he made an attempt to ask for their blessing. Sunday only realized what he had done the moment he had sunk his teeth down your mother's arm, noticing how your father was already but boney remains of himself.

This Halovian ancestry's secret... it served him no good.

Why was he born into this race and why wasn't he raised just like you?

"Watchmaker... How can I ever forgive myself for this...?"

How can he dare proclaim to mete out justice when he deserves to be served the same sentence? "Sunday" himself is a transgressor, unworthy of yielding Harmony's name.

What heathen he was, to partake in flesh and blood that was not for his stomach simply because they both smelled just like you. What heretic he was, to place anger and hunger above his better judgement.

What karma it was, to find out his sister has been killed in his moments of guilt.

What retribution it was, to face that what he had done to others, will be done unto him.

#ansy-writes #yandere sunday #tw: cannibalism #yandere fic #yandere hsr #yandere sunday x reader #yandere honkai star rail x reader #yandere honkai star rail #yandere honkai #yandere #yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere x you #tw yandere #male yandere #yandere headcanons

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mondaymelon · 1 year

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— 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗿𝘆 𝗲𝘆𝗲𝗱 !? ♥

:feat~ xiao, kazuha, scaramouche x gn!reader:

⤷ fluff. fluff to cure to soul.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open!) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis

Seems like someone is catching feelings... how do they hide them? (...or try to)

XIAO is impossibly perplexed... both at himself, and you.

Because when it comes down to it, he's an immortal and you're merely a human, two contrasting types of beings that should never strive to coexist... alongside one... another...

...Yet, why does he wish for that possibility, with the few remnants of hope that still remain in his soul?

It's something unnatural, these emotions that are welling up in his body, but he can't bring himself to detest it. The feelings that arise when he's with you, the quickened rate of his heartbeat and the strange heat that's risen to his face... while all of it is unnervingly unfamiliar, somehow, it's comforting.

And he can't begin to explain why... but he's felt this warmth in his being before... albeit on a lesser scale. The way his eyes seem to light up, ever so slightly when you appear before him... yes, he's seen this before.

He recognizes it.

And it's what they call 'love.'

He wants to scoff at the very notion of such an outlandish topic. One that he could never even dream of experiencing... until, of course, now.

He's certainly not the most expressive in his emotions, so at first, it's almost like the atmosphere between the two of you hasn't even changed. But soon enough, it's growing more and more clear, from the way his usually unreadable facade has morphed into one of a flustered expression whenever you get too close, how he sometimes flinches when the two of you make contact... and how sometimes, he refuses to meet your eye, staying silent.

Maybe you don't notice it in the beginning, but as time goes on, it'll only become more and more apparent. More and more obvious, until...

"I think I'm in love with you." ♥

KAZUHA has heard tales of such... emotions from the Crux's drunken sailors.

But to say that prepared him for confronting such feelings himself... that was a different topic entirely. The most he'd felt of such 'love' was when his past friend was still alive... but the affection he had experienced then was nothing compared to how passionate his adoration of you was.

Needless to say, he had found himself knee deep in such a predicament. Running through his mind all of those stories the sailors had spun... tales of a beloved...

Kazuha would be jesting if he claimed that he had never imagined himself in such rose-tinted fantasies. And now that he was in one himself, he's already far too entranced to deny it.

Ah... but working up the courage to confess is much too difficult... so for now, the wanderer will tarry with his time, writing poems of professing his adoration and daydreaming about the moment as the Crux's hull is gently lulled by the waves. Perhaps one day he'll sort himself out, perhaps one day he'll find himself speaking those three words that are spoken between lovers.

Kazuha is used to hiding, being a vagrant and a wanted criminal, however, cloaking his affection is another story. The male know's he's being painfully obvious, even when he's trying to act subtle... but he certainly can't help the way his cheeks flush whenever the two of you accidentally brush hands, or the way his mouth can't help but form a serene smile whenever you laugh. And every time those moments reoccur, time and time again, he gains just a slight more incentive.

In the moonlight, his beauty is striking, but all he can think of is you.

"...I have something important to tell you.

I'm in love with you." ♥

SCARAMOUCHE denies it. His feelings for you, and no matter how easily you're able to fluster him.

Why? To be exact, he's not even sure...

Maybe it has to do with the fact that he's closed off his heart to people long before he even met you. He who killed his emotions, so that they wouldn't hinder him. In order for his past torments to end.

"Killed..." Yet somehow, he still... felt something towards you, and unfamiliar emotion that seemed to bubble up from inside him and developed quicker by the day. An affection... obsession towards you that he couldn't stop.

...Would he want to stop it at all?

Needless to say, he's head over heels... but still persists onwards like nothing has transpired within that head of his. Sure, he feels strangely attracted towards you and everything you do, but that doesn't mean anything. Means nothing at all.

Ah, but even someone as powerful as Scaramouche can't keep such pining bottled up for who knows how long... sooner or later, a confession will arrive... and he knows full well of it.

The very thought of it has him disgusted.

Is he even able to feel such an emotion as 'love'? Perhaps he's just imagining it, a delusion forged by his own mind to satiate his sole self... after all, he doesn't even have a heart. He doesn't have anything to prove that he has a single shred of 'humanity.'

Or perhaps, he did 'have' one, and you were the one who stole it.

Haha, if that's the case, perhaps he won't mind. He'll bide his time, clench the fabric over his chest, smiling to himself as he imagines his absent heart beating alongside yours.

And maybe one day, he'll understand what his love towards you means. ♥

(a/n) once again, scaramouche is the only one who doesn't confess to it. (oops)

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bvidzsoo · 7 months

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Hi! First off I just wanna say how much I love your work! You are such a talented writer🤍 okay okay so for the Halloween prompt request, I was thinking maybe Vampire Seonghwa? (He's been plaguing my mind hella hard) with the prompts 3 and 22? I'm excited to see what you come up with!🤍

Thank you so much!🤍

◆Vampire!Seonghwa◆ (pink haired Seonghwa has me in an unhealthy grip and it will end me one day)

↳3. Well, that didn’t hurt nearly as badly as I was expecting it to.

↳22. Do I look tasty?

A/N: Hii! Thank you for your kind words, it makes me happy to know people like my stories as I place a lot of time in them. I shall say that pink haired Seonghwa has me in a GRIP and I'll NEVER escape it, so uhm, I did a little something here, haha. I hope you enjoy this little one and requests are open until the 1st of November for anyone interested! Before you start the short story, I want to say that this was inspired by Vampire Academy written by Richelle Mead, so here's a little explanation for those who haven't read the books:

1. Moroi-are born vampires, imbued with the magic to have power over the elements;

2. Dhampir-are half-human, half-vampires who are born to protect the Moroi. Don't have elemental magic, but have enhanced strength and senses making them the strongest protection against the Strigoi;

3. Strigoi- are the type of vampires that one would expect from an old horror classic

TW: cussing, blood, very slightly suggestive?

◆Halloween Prompts◆

That damned pink hair could be visible from miles away. If his desperate need to be distinguishable by some feature wasn't enough, then his flamboyant persona certainly was. Park Seonghwa was absolutely detestable. It isn’t enough that he comes from one of the royal moroi families, which makes him incredibly famous, he also makes sure to remind everyone of his high status in the order by looking down on you while flaunting his riches, the arrogant smirk never absent from his face. I truly wish one day I'll be able to punch that perfect nose of his, even if dhampirs weren't allowed to hurt morois. I tried to keep the sneer off my face as I glared at the back of his pink head, a disgusting color if anyone asks me, as his loud laughter carried over the crowd. How was it possible that he could be heard over all the chatter in the auditorium? I felt a nudge to my side and my attention was off Seonghwa as I stared at my best friend, whose eyebrows were raised. She already knew I would be in a sour mood when I realized I was forced to breathe the same air as Seonghwa, but today was also the day we'd be paired up for our field trip. The dreaded field trip. Us, dhampirs, would be assigned to a moroi to protect for a week, totally left alone by our teachers and other guardians. Basically, we were forced to fend for ourselves for a week in order to show how capable we were in completing our duties once we graduated. I, on one hand, was ready. I was born ready; I knew I could do this. The only problem was that I didn't know who I'd be assigned to protect and the thought of having to possibly spend a whole ass week with Seonghwa was giving me a freaking headache.

"I think he can feel your glare, Y/N." Kazuha muttered as I turned to look back towards the front, Seonghwa’s annoying hair bugging my eyes again. I just rolled my eyes and ignored my best friend’s comment, thinking to myself, that it was only good if he felt my glare. Everyone knew I didn’t like Seonghwa, why try and hide it? The head teacher walked in holding a big paper scroll in his hands, stopping in the center of the auditorium.

“Quiet down, everyone.” Despite the authority in his voice, Seonghwa proceeded to finish his joke and laugh loudly as everyone else glanced his way, the teacher sighing before continuing, “I’ll read the dhampir names first and then the moroi they’ll have to protect for the following week. Changing your partners isn’t allowed, and if anyone does so in secret, they’ll be expulsed from the Academy, never to graduate. And then you can try and live a miserable life.”

I don’t think I agree with the teacher. Having to live without being surrounded by some annoying spoiled morois sounded like every dhampirs most secret wish. The teacher opened the scroll and started reading the names, most students looking content and even happy with their partners, but there was one problem. Park Seonghwa’s name hasn’t been read yet, and with my luck…my fate in this whole thing was slowly dying out.

“Lee Y/N.” I stood up straighter in my seat, debating whether to say a quick prayer, but the moroi’s name was already called, “Park Seonghwa.”

Fuck. I hissed and allowed my head to fall against the table, creating a loud bang as I groaned lowly. The people sitting around me chuckled, amused by my reaction, and probably thankful they didn’t get paired with Seonghwa. Lucky bastards. I felt eyes on me before I could lift my head and I braced myself for the conceited smirk on his face as I looked up, eyes connecting with his. Seonghwa was smirking, and as if to make things worse, he winked before turning around and ignoring my existence.

I would’ve done anything to avoid this moment. To avoid sitting in a car as Seonghwa was handed the keys to the Academy’s expensive Mercedes, as if he didn’t own at least two muscle cars back at home. God, I wanted to die. He opened the door and sat inside, head turning to look at me. My jaw was clenched as I looked straight ahead, refusing to look at him, able to see from the corner of my eyes the amusement written all over his features. God, if only I was allowed to punch him.

“Since when are morois allowed to drive?” I snapped as he ignited the engine to life, “You know the dhampirs are the ones supposed to drive around and shit.”

“I know,” Seonghwa shrugged nonchalantly as he backed out of the parking lot of the Academy, our head teacher and the dhampir supervisor watching us with hawk like eyes as I mouthed a small ‘please, save me’ to them, a displeased look crossing their features, “But I don’t trust a woman with driving.”

I scoffed annoyed, my tongue pressing against my cheek as I tried to hold myself back, Kazuha’s words ringing loudly in my head. ‘Ignore him, think of anything else and just stay calm. You can do this.’ In fact, no, I was certain I couldn’t do this, and we have barely left the safety of our Academy.

“Do you even know where we’re supposed to go?” I opted to ask instead, glaring at the radio as Seonghwa turned it on, browsing through the channels.

“To my family’s vacation house?” Seonghwa gave me a look which said, ‘are you crazy for even asking that?’.

“If that’s where you’re taking us, just pull over, and I’ll walk back to the Academy myself and sabotage my own future.” I groaned and allowed my head to fall back against the headrest. Seonghwa scoffed and gave me a quick glance as we turned onto the highway.

“You seriously want to live in a shady neighborhood in a dodgy apartment for a week?” He looked at me as if I was crazy and I closed my eyes, pressing the button to roll down the window. I needed some fresh air. Perhaps that would stop me from wanting to crash our car, which I was supposed to be driving. I’ve never driven such a luxury car, Seonghwa robbed me of another once in a lifetime experience…once again.

“Yes, Seonghwa, because this is a test to what our lives will look like very soon, you conceited idiot!” I snapped, finally breaking as I turned to face Seonghwa, “You might have everything handed to you on a silver plate, but I certainly won’t be living in a mansion or my family’s vacation home once I’ve graduated.”

“If you graduate.” God, I really wanted to punch that arrogant smirk off his face. I didn’t have to be top of my class to graduate. I was one of the best dhampirs at our Academy currently and I was needed as female dhampirs were rare. Unlike him, who was raised on a silver plate, he had no significance whatsoever if he was stripped of his title. He wasn’t even a prince, he was around fifth in line to the throne, so he really was unimportant. His skills were mid and unless he continued his family’s business, he was a no one. That brought a content smile on my lips and Seonghwa threw me an annoyed glance, probably able to sense that my thoughts weren’t the nicest. He didn’t say anything else as he focused on the road, turning up the volume of the radio, making me sigh as I relaxed into the car seat and closed my eyes. It’s not that I trusted him, but I had barely gotten any sleep last night as we threw a secret party before our departure. It was wild.

Four days had gone by and things were going surprisingly well. For me, at least. I quickly got familiar with the area and did my patrols regularly, keeping an eye out for any unwanted danger. I even managed to become friends with our upstairs neighbor, who was a nice old lady. I found mundane tasks quite enjoyable as I walked to the market each morning and bought fresh fruits and vegetables to cook later, and of course, since it was Seonghwa’s money, I enjoyed spending it even more. I finally managed to get that long deserved haircut and all in all, this test turned out to be a lot more manageable than I expected it to be. Living with Seonghwa wasn’t too difficult, surprisingly, as he stayed in his room almost all day, listening to loud music and facetiming with his other moroi friends almost every other hour. Hearing his boisterous laughter and awful jokes through the thin walls was rather depressing, but I managed to block his voice out as I turned on the TV in the living room and turned the volume up, hearing Seonghwa scream at me to be quieter, only to get ignored. Of course, things weren’t going constantly smoothly as he always found something to start a petty fight based on, but after realizing that my anger was only bringing him enjoyment, I stopped showing my emotions. That didn’t mean that I didn’t want to bash his head against the wall at times, I was just smarter and started hiding it. However, despite me living my best life for the past four days, Seonghwa seemed to hate it here. He would jump at the slightest sound coming from outside and the curtains would have to be drawn almost all day as his skin was specifically sensitive to sunlight. That was a thing I didn’t believe, but I didn’t want to try my luck and actually set him on fire, that wouldn’t only get me expelled from the Academy, it would earn me the death penalty too. I preferred staying away from that one if possible. It was one of those serene nights, where I almost couldn’t tell if Seonghwa and I were living together, but my heightened senses could pick up on his breathing, a thing which annoyed me, but normally was very good as I could protect the morois in case of danger. Earlier today I bought some red wine and condiments to cook some pasta as I missed the taste of it, the chef’s cooking back at the Academy is rather bland, almost makes you think she’s a moroi. I have prepared everything and threw the ingredients together, letting it boil before pouring the heavy cream over it, letting it simmer for a few more minutes as I stirred it. I was lost in my world, humming a song which Seonghwa had been listening to on repeat, when suddenly I felt warmth behind me and my muscle memory kicked in as I whirled around, grabbing the intruder by the neck and slamming them against the nearest wall. My grip instantly loosened around Seonghwa’s neck when I finally realized it was just him, his normally round eyes wider than I’ve seen them ever before.

“Don’t ever creep up on me again, Seonghwa.” I hissed, eyebrows furrowed, “I could’ve hurt you.”

“Isn’t that what you want?” The stunned look was gone from his face, replaced with an annoying smirk. God, I hated his stupid face.

“Yeah, it is.” I muttered as I released him and went back to stir my sauce before shutting the gas off, taking the pot to the table. Seonghwa followed after me and watched me as I sat at the table, pouring the sauce over my spaghetti. I grabbed my glass of wine and took a sip, humming at the rich taste of it. It was expensive, but then again, Seonghwa was founding me so I only bought the priciest things, hoping to deprive him of all of his money. It was impossible, but it still bought a little satisfaction to my heart.

“You cooked dinner and didn’t even tell me…” Seonghwa trailed off, face falling for a second before it became composed again as he walked to the cupboard, taking out a plate.

“I didn’t know in what mood you were.” It was clear, Seonghwa was struggling without blood. I might’ve hated him, but I knew a moroi, a vampire, couldn’t survive without blood. Yes, they were able to eat normal food, but it could make them sick for days even. Seonghwa hasn’t eaten anything since we left the Academy. Hasn’t fed since we left the Academy. I tried to convince him to come to the hospital with me and I’d take a few blood bags for him, but he refused and said he’d survive without this week. He preferred fresh blood, apparently. And the lack of blood was already showing its first signs, his skin was paler than usual and dark bags were slowly forming underneath his eyes. I noticed his eyes glowing red every now and then, but that wasn’t necessarily a sign of bloodlust.

“I’m starving.” Seonghwa muttered more to himself, forgetting that I could hear him. I paused chewing as he sat down opposite me, surprised that he was willingly sitting at a table with me. He’d never do that at the Academy, but then again, I probably would pour my food all over his head if he did. I pushed the spaghetti and sauce pot towards him as Seonghwa reluctantly leaned forward and inhaled, eyes widening a little.

“Oh, this actually smells really nice.” He muttered absentmindedly and my eyes narrowed as I analyzed him. Was he being sincere? He seemed like he forgot I was even sitting at a table with him.

“I probably won’t be able to eat much, my stomach’s rather weak these days.” He said as he looked up and placed some spaghetti and sauce on his plate. I nodded and continued eating, watching his face for a reaction when he finally took a bite. He chewed slowly on the food and his eyebrows furrowed before he gulped the food down. He just glanced up at me and wordlessly continued to take a few more bites, but stopped at the fifth one. He pushed the plate away and grabbed a stray glass from the table, pouring himself wine.

“That wasn’t nearly as bad as I expected it to be.” I was about to thank him, for the first time in my life, but he had to continue, “I didn’t know dhampirs are now taught how to cook. But then again…you’re a woman, you’re supposed to know how to do that.”

“If you don’t shut up I will push that knife down your heart.” It was an empty threat, but it felt nice saying it as Seonghwa chuckled and took a big gulp of the wine, eyes going to the bottle before settling back on me.

“Are you trying to bereave me of my money, Y/N?” He cocked an eyebrow elegantly and I rolled my eyes, leaning back in my chair as I was finished with dinner too.

“As if you don’t have more than enough already,” I scoffed and took a sip of my wine, “Since I risk my life to protect you, you at least can let me spend as much as I’d like—”

“Yeah, like at the hairdresser.” Seonghwa cut me off with a scoff, eyes narrowing, “Who even charges that much?”

“I might’ve left a bigger tip than necessary.” I replied nonchalantly and hid my smirk behind my glass as I took another sip, Seonghwa scoffing as he drank the contents of his own glass before pouring some more wine for himself.

A few hours later, the lights seemed to dance around me as I sat in the chair, leaned back and one leg brought up on the chair, hair pulled in a low ponytail as I was feeling hot. It was from the wine, I knew that, but I couldn’t help fan myself as Seonghwa placed another card on the table. It was red. I didn’t have any red cards, so I had to pick up one from the deck. If anyone told me four days ago that I would be playing some silly card games with Seonghwa while the both of us were tipsy, I would’ve laughed in their face and asked them to walk to the psychic ward. But it was happening right now and Seonghwa was winning, for the fifth time. I was getting fed up.

“You’re cheating, okay?!” I exclaimed and slammed my cards on the table as Seonghwa placed his last one down, winning again. He just chuckled and took another sip of his wine, cheeks slightly flushed. One would say he looked like a living creature for once. It was late in the night and we were supposed to be sleeping, but I haven’t done my patrolling duty yet and it was cold outside, I really didn’t want to go. Besides, I was tipsy, my reflexes were dull, and if a strigoi were to attack me, I probably wouldn’t get very far, let alone be able protect Seonghwa.

“I’m not cheating,” He scoffed, looking offended, “I’m just really good at this game.”

“Yeah, right,” I scoffed and rolled my eyes, “Like you are at everything else.”

“Of course, I am.” He smirked and flicked a stray pink strand out of his eyes.

“Then why do you refuse to go to the hospital and steal one or two blood bags with me?” I raised my eyebrows challengingly, crossing my arms in front of my chest. Seonghwa stiffened for a second before he leaned forward, placing his interlaced hands on the table and his chin on them.

“Because,” His voice lowered, as if he was scared someone was eavesdropping on us, “I only drink fresh blood.”

I scoffed, of course he did, he had the circumstances to, he was rich, “And why is that? Did mommy and daddy spoil you that much?”

That annoying smirk was back on his lips, “Yes, they did. I can’t stand the stale taste of blood; it makes me throw up. I like drinking it from the source, when it’s still warm and gushing, thick and rich and full of aroma.”

His eyes flashed red again and I watched as he licked his lips, suddenly the bloodlust obvious on his face. Perhaps I shouldn’t have brought up this topic, but I wanted to know the real reason. A vampire who was thirsty shouldn’t be challenged, but I was safe. It was strictly forbidden for morois to drink blood from dhampirs. And it would make me seem like a whore. But the alcohol was hitting hard and I was genuinely curious, never having talked to a moroi about this before, almost wanting to experience the euphoric feeling it’s said a vampire’s bite gives you.

“Do I look tasty?” The words left my lips before I could think much as Seonghwa and I made eye contact. I knew my eyes were glazed over with intoxication from the alcohol, but suddenly Seonghwa’s pupils grew in size as his eyes flashed red and remained like that. The ceiling lamp’s light falling on him made his eyes seem a deep red, swirling around almost in his round eyes.

“You or your blood?” Seonghwa’s voice was low and a strand of pink hair fell into his eyes as he stared me down. Suddenly, I felt glued to my place. He looked like a predator ready to pounce on its pray.

“Both.” I answered breathless, taken aback by Seonghwa’s sudden change of character. He was always so arrogant, so uncaring and so irritating, you’d never think he was capable of looking at you with such danger written all over his face and body. A vein in his neck was visibly pulsing and his hands tightened around each other, knuckles turning white as he inhaled deeply, eyes slightly fluttering closed.

“You smell like flowers, but it’s so—sweet.” His voice was strained as he blinked his eyes open, red glinting back at me as I straightened up in my chair, body suddenly flushing at his words. It was most certainly the alcohol making me feel like this, but I pushed my ponytail behind my shoulders, and I didn’t miss Seonghwa’s eyes focusing on my neck as I cleared my throat.

“Have you tasted sweet blood before?” I whispered, Seonghwa’s jaw clenching and unclenching as if he was fighting back his demons. He said nothing as he shook his head no and I sucked in a deep breath, making eye contact with him, “Would you like to?”

Before I could blink, Seonghwa was up on his feet and next to me, sending his chair to the floor with a loud clank, and I was hauled up by a grip around my bicep. Seonghwa’s long fingers dug into my skin with a bruising force as he sneered down at me, our height difference very obvious. He’s never stood so close to me before.

“You’re playing with fire, Y/N, stop.” He warned, voice deep and eyes flickering from red back to its brown color to red again. I bit my lower lip and stood on my tip toes, lips barely brushing against his earlobe.

“I know you want to bite me, Seonghwa, suck my blood—” What was the reason of my taunting? Probably nothing more than wanting to fuck with him. To finally see him so out of control and desperate, anything like the Seonghwa he always presented himself to be. And it was the alcohol, of course, because I would’ve never asked such thing of him sober. I was ruining my dignity at the moment.

“If anyone finds out…” His voice was horse as he slightly pulled me back, looking down at me, eyes trained on the smooth skin of my neck.

“Nobody will,” I smirked at him, barring my neck more for him as his eyes flicked back to red, “But you have to swear you will keep your mouth shut, Seonghwa.”

“Will you become my supplier, then?” That annoying smirk was back on his lips and I hissed at him, glaring fiercely.

“Don’t overstep your boundaries, asshole.”

“As if you aren’t the one begging me to bite you.”

“As if you aren’t the one desperate to bite me.”

That’s all it took for Seonghwa to finally give in, lips parting and fangs shirking as he opened his mouth more, locking eyes with me. I nodded subtly and my body tensed as Seonghwa slowly leaned down, closer to my neck. My breath caught in my throat as Seonghwa’s plush lips pressed softly against my neck in a small kiss before I felt them retreating and instead two sharp fangs poked against my skin. Before I could have time to rethink my poor choices, the sharp fangs pressed hard into my skin, making me gasp loudly and grasp onto Seonghwa’s shoulders as his teeth tore through my untouched skin, sharp pain erupting in the area as it traveled towards my shoulder and ear. My grip on Seonghwa turned harsh and suddenly I felt him pulling my body flushed against his as he held my nape, sucking on my blood. As soon as the pain came it was gone, the feeling of his fangs foreign as my eyes started becoming blurry, brain fogged up. My lips fell open as my whole body seemed to tingle, from head to toe, and Seonghwa suddenly moaned, lightly pushing me backwards until my hips were pressing against the table. The euphoria was becoming overwhelming as my breathing stuttered and I whined quietly as my head lulled back, knees feeling faint all of a sudden. Seonghwa moaned again, sending vibrations down my neck, my skin covered in goosebumps as I had to grab onto the table with one hand as the other still held onto Seonghwa. Dark spots started covering my vision, but I was unable to speak, unable to let Seonghwa know that he was probably drinking too much. But he must’ve known as suddenly, his cold fangs were gone from my neck, the cool air hitting the marks as Seonghwa’s nose nuzzled against my jaw, breathing hard. I gasped as my knees bucked for a second, Seonghwa’s arms holding me up as my mind slowly started to clear up. The fog was lifting, but just barely, as I squeezed my eyes shut, suddenly the light too much for them. I took deep breaths, the marks pulsed as I was finally able to close my mouth and swallowed, my throat dry all of a sudden. The dark spots were gone, but a slight headache started overtaking the haze, forehead lightly pulsing rhythmically. As I opened my eyes, I was met with Seonghwa staring down at me with lust coating his whole face, his red eyes shinning as he was breathing hard. Apparently I wasn’t the only one affected as my body continued to tingle, a different kind of want overtaking it. Seonghwa’s hand was still gripping my nape and my eyes fell to his plump lips, the inside of the still bloody. Coated with my blood. Something inside of Seonghwa snapped again as he leaned down, crashing his cherry red lips against mine, tasting like iron, nothing like the sweet taste he described. His lips moved against mine hungrily and I kissed him back with just as much fervor, fingers tangling in his pushed back pink hair, yanking on it when he pushed my lips more open with his tongue. His tongue slipped inside my mouth and lapped at my own, sucking on it hard, making me moan involuntarily. Seonghwa’s hands gripped my cheeks hard as my lungs screamed for air, but I was drunk on his warmth and passion, teeth clanking against the other. I bit his lower lip hard, making Seonghwa hiss before I released it, licking the saliva off my lips. Seonghwa went and clipped my lower lip with his suddenly shirked fangs. His breath was fanning my face, quick and hot, and all I could do was look up in his brown eyes and chuckle, pulling my head back slightly to free my lip from his assaults.

“Well, that didn’t hurt nearly as badly as I was expecting it to.” I muttered and Seonghwa smirked, leaning close again that his lips were brushing against mine.

“If you think you’ll ever get away from me after this,” He chuckled and shook his head, “you’re very wrong. Once we have graduated I will request for you to be my guardian.”

“Fuck you.” I snapped, suddenly glaring at him as Seonghwa smirked viciously, “You’ll never have me.”

“Oh, but don’t I already?” He taunted and pressed a soft kiss against my lips mockingly, making me wrestle out of his grip as he just laughed, “I always get what I want.”

“If you tell anyone that I—” Suddenly I felt too sober, suddenly I realized the weight of my actions.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want anyone to know about our dirty little secret, love.” Seonghwa chuckled as I walked away from him, needing to put distance between our bodies, “I hope you do know vampire venom is addictive—”

“Of course, I know!” My voice raised as I whirled around to glare at him, “One bite won’t make me addicted, though.”

“One or two won’t, indeed.” I didn’t like the glint in his eyes nor the promise in his voice. Something told me that this wasn’t the last time he’d come to me to drink my blood. Fuck, I just fucked myself over for a lifetime. Park Seonghwa always gets what he wants, and if he requests for me to be his guardian after graduation, he would get just that. It’s true what they say after all, curiosity killed the cat.

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plooto · 6 months

Text

꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ sayrìp . ft. miles quaritch

. synopsis -> as your eyes trailed upwards, your breath stopped. he was gorgeous..much prettier than any of the na’vi you’ve seen before.

. warnings -> recom!quaritch , mo’at’ite!reader , au where the rda doesn’t care abt jake anymore , rda brought deja blu back for security , forbidden love!au , jake is kinda mean? , reader is not tsakarem nor tsahik .

. words -> 2.4k

. notes -> i really don’t know where i was going with this..

you were precious. being the youngest of mo’at and eytukan, you always wanted to make your parents smile. rather it be helping mother with in the healers tent, or helping father from the ikrans, you were whatever they needed, and the people appreciated the assistance.

when hometree was destroyed and neytiri chose the dreamwalker jakesully, you stood by your mother, continuing to offer her help where she needed.

years later, when the people moved up to high camp with jakesully’s human friends, you were given more free time than you had previously. you opted for flies with your ikran pu’ti whenever you had the chance, not returning until just before eclipse. or you’d take walks, feeling the happiness in the beautiful lush as you felt eywa’s embrace.

you skipped across the thick branches of the trees, reciting your songcord as you went.

snap.

your ears twitched as you quieted, dropping low against the branch as you looked for what made the sound.

it was a na’vi..no.. another dreamwalker. you scowled silently, mumbling a soft ‘vrrtep’ - demon, under your breath. yet, no matter how much you detested the humans, you couldn’t take your eyes away from the false na’vi. the imposter was tall.. wearing strange clothes and one of those things jake calls a gun. as your eyes trailed upwards, your breath stopped. he was gorgeous..much prettier than any of the na’vi you’ve seen before. you tilted your head towards your extended foot, silently questioning how he was so pretty.

the man you dubbed sayrìp - handsome, pressed his large hand to his neck, mumbling the alien language before taking a scan of his surroundings before retreating.

letting out a breath you never knew you were holding, you quietly scampered away.

you didn’t see sayrìp for a while, but you couldn’t get him out of your head. his scent, his face, his voice.. you couldn’t get him to leave your thoughts.

“ there you are, sister.. ” you turned your head, looking at you sister, a gentle smile gracing your face.

“ neytiri, hi! ” you replied, standing to allow your sister to wrap you in a hug,

“ you look troubled..what is it? ” you tilted your head, had you really been moping because you haven’t seen your favorite demon in a week? you shook your head, blaming your mood on not going out to the forest in a while.

“ hm, well, if you are not busy until eclipse, mother has said it is okay for you to go. ” your ears perked up, the muscles above your eyes lifting.

“ really? ” you hugged your sister again, not waiting for confirmation before you called your ikran, running deep into the woods.

there he was, he was different, he felt different.. his pants were shorter, the coverings he wore on his feet were gone and he-

“ i know y’re here. ” your thoughts halted instantly, you looked down at the demon, expression filled with shock and a hint of confusion.

“ why d’nt you c’mon out, hm? ” you glanced around, as if you were searching your brain for the translations to the words he said. eyes narrowed, you made your way down the tree, approaching him from behind with your head low, eyes scanning him. sayrìp turned quickly, you jumped back, unsheathing your blade and holding it defensively.

“ woah-ho easy there cupcake, m’not gonna hurt ya. ” sayrìp held his hands up non-threateningly. you paused, blinking as you translated. you lowered the knife, but you didn’t put it away. you stepped closer to the man, steps slow and careful as you circled him as if you were checking what he was. unbeknownst to him, you were just checking him out from a closer radius.

“ y’like what’cha see? ” maybe he did know. you put your knife away slowly, still eyeing him skeptically.

“ why are you here? ” you hiss, speaking english to sayrìp. the man smirked,

“ why did you not kill me. ” you bit back at him, avoiding answering his question. the man shifted on his heels, his golden eyes taking in your form. it was only then that you realized how fast your heart was beating. the man lifted his arms, you didn’t see what he was doing before you were backing up, drawing your blade again.

“ ‘m just putting this down.. we can talk then. ” you watch him carefully as he strips himself of the weapon, when what he said turned out to be true, you relaxed, your tail no longer swaying cautiously, but rather with curiosity. the man lifts his arms out, displaying he is not a threat. slowly, you stepped towards him, your eyes trailing up his arm to look at the patch of black on his shoulder. you kept looking, trying to tip toe to see over his shoulder. he turned his head to you,

“ y’wanna sit? ” a smirk tugged at the corner of his lip, his fangs showing. you nodded once, translating still as hard with the strange way he speaks. the man sits, criss crossed in front of you, allowing you room to do the same. you settled, but you didn’t sit all the way, kneeling in front of him. heart pounding in your ears, you leaned closer to his face. the pattern of the stripes on his cheek, his tanhí starting to shine, the weird hair on his forehead.. you outstretched your first finger, curling the other two into your palm, poking at it. he shuts an eye,

“ peu- w- what is this. ” you ask him in english. he chuckles, looking at you with a weird look, your forehead creases and you pull away from him slightly.

“ my.. eyebrow..? ” you repeat the word back to him,

“ eye-brow.. what is it for? ” you tilted your head and shifted to across him, you didn’t pay attention to his response when you poked at his ear, eyes widening. you lifted your other hand to hold at one of your ears, double checking to see if your thought was right.

“ what’s y’r name? ”

“ your ears is short. why. ” you didn’t hear his question, your attention still on his ears, he raises his shoulders. you blinked at him, waiting for his response. he shook his head, waving his hand, which you grabbed onto.

“ y’r name, what is it? ” you pulled at his fourth finger,

“ yn. ” you said, accepting that his fourth finger is just like jake’s. you dropped his hand, it landing in his lap with a thud.

“ miles. ” your forehead creased as you took a shot at pronouncing it,

“ m- my-less.. ” he coughed, turning away from you to cover his mouth as he laughed. “ mi-less. ” he cleared. his throat before looking back at you,

“ my ” you lowered your head as you repeated,

“ my ”

“ ulls. ” you turned your head in confusion, but repeated anyways,

“ ulls. ” he lifted his hands and pushed them together.

“ miles. ” you both said in unison.

“ there y’go pumpkin! ” he smiled brightly, hand coming to squeeze your cheeks. your would have matched his if your cheeks weren’t smushed. you didn’t realize how close you were to him until you felt his breath on your nose. it twitched, you looked up at his eyes, they were slightly narrowed, taking in your face. your breathing was slow when it should have been fast, your mind was fuzzy when it should have been clear, you were leaning in when you should have been pulling away.

you trusted him.

you both were dangerously close..breaths tangling a forbidden dance, one that should never be.. so why did it feel so right? his lips were on yours, you kissed him back. a large four fingered hand goes to the back of your head, deepening the kiss and not giving you a moment to thing before his other hand went around your waist.

you pulled way, heat racing and breathing fast. it was nearly eclipse..you didn’t have much time before it was here. you pulled away from him fully, rising to your feet. he stood with you, utterly confused.

“ eclipse.. bye. ” you stepped away and called out to your ikran. turning back to him, you spoke again. “ tomorrow? ” he was still confused, but he agreed. you mounted pu’ti and flew off towards the village.

when you dismounted your ikran, kiri greeted you first with a,

“ mom has been looking for you ” your ears flattened against your head as you realized you weren’t as fast as you thought you were. you gave pu’ti a gentle rub to his snout before following behind kiri.

“ you smell weird. ” your head snapped to your niece, eyes widening. sayrìp..that skxawng. your tail flicked anxiously as you heard neyriti’s voice in conversation with jake. you took a breath before making yourself known,

“ yn! eywa, where have you been?! ” you lower your head and wince, mumbling a soft apology, ears disappearing against your hair. “ and why do you smell.. ” your eyes widened and you sucked in a quick breath, “ weird? ” you slightly relaxed, finally looking up at your sister to make some excuse you found something and was checking it out. it wasn’t a lie, just not the full truth.. if neytiri noticed, she didn’t make it known to you, but jake did. his eyes were narrowed at you, thinking - like he knew exactly what you were doing. you excused yourself and exited their abode, finally being able to breathe.

on your sleeping mat that night, you couldn’t help your mind running right back to miles.. he was so large, so pretty..but he was demon.. your mother, y- your sister would fall over dead before they ever approved such a union.. but why did it feel like you belonged beside him, like eywa herself has pushed you two together.

the day you promised to meet miles at the same spot,you were growing antsy by the end of. your duties, moving much faster than you normally move. you were excited, but for good measure, you groomed the ikrans before taking off on your own.

when you made it to the clearing, you saw him already waiting. when he saw you, he discarded his gun, setting it in the dirt once again. he greeted you, lowering his head and tapping two fingers to his forehead before extending them to you,

“ oel nati kameie, yn ” your eyes widened in surprise, but you repeated the gesture,

“ oel ngaati kameie, miles. ” you giggled, “ you said it wrong. ” his eye-brows pulled together in confusion,

“ ngaati, no nati. ” you said, taking a seat beside him.

it was nice with miles, sure the obvious language barrier was a thing, but you two made due. day after day, you taught miles something and he taught you something. you did your best to keep the budding relationship under wraps until the day you couldn’t - the day you didn’t return home after eclipse, the day that you and miles chose each other.

“ tsaheylu. the bond, it joins creatures and mated pairs. ” you watched as he pulled his kuru - neutral queue, from behind him and held it in front of yours. his eyes looked into yours, waiting for your next move. you looked back, eyes not leaving his as you pressed your tendrils closer, his own pulling yours closer almost impatiently. your eyes. closed as a shiver ran up your spine, knocking your breathing off it’s rhythmic pace. you didn’t leave miles’ arms that night. he was your safe place, your home, your mate.

you were beyond anxious when you returned to the village, you couldn’t face anyone right now, you had to align your thoughts.

“ yn! ” you flinched before turning around to see jake. with your heart pounding in your chest, you greeted the olo’eyktan, but before you could ask him what he wanted, he told you, “ you should have stopped when neytiri asked you why you smelled funny. ” your breathing was shaky as you tried to think of a response, an excuse - anything.

“ he’s an outsider yn! you think i wouldn’t know his scent? ” you stopped trying to reply, hanging your head low. you were the youngest of mo’at and eytukan.. you always did what was best for the people..yet, the one time you try to do what is the best for you, you get in trouble. when you finally pulled yourself out of your head, jake’s four fingered hand was around your bicep, pulling you to the tent he shared with his family.

“ kids, excuse us. ” neteyam and kiri exchanged a look to each other and lo’ak looked at you, raising his eye-brows in confusion. with indistinguishable expressions, they left, leaving. you, jake and neytiri in the tent.

“ ma jake, what is happening? ” you didn’t know when jake released your shoulder, but he was standing near neytiri now.

“ yn here has something to tell us. ” your heart stopped and your blood ran cold. tell my sister? neytiri turned to you, ears perked and her tail low.

“ yn? ” you sucked in a breath, taking a step backwards to be out of her immediate reach.

“ i..i met a man..a demon. ” neytiri hissed at the thought, and you felt the tears already pooling, threatening to make you blind. “ we’re bonded before eywa.. ”

jake wasn’t thinking that. the colonel miles quaritch.

“ quaritch? you’re mated with quaritch? of all the talented warriors in the clan, you choose the asshole who destroyed home tree?! ” jake cursed, neytiri was struggling to control her tongue, her eyes narrowed on your frame. she closed her eyes, letting out a breath - a feeble attempt to calm herself - before speaking,

“ yn- ” you cut her off, immediately defending your mate,

“ he’s not bad! he’s not what you think he is.. he- we- he has never harmed me.. he is different that that man! ” you huff,

“ why do you think so? ” neytiri asked, her ears slowly lowering. she was willing to see it through your eyes.

“ he’s different..he has the human memories, but not the human feelings.. he. does not want to hurt the people.. i saw it all through tsaheylu.. eywa has chosen him for me. ” you paused, looking back at your older siblings. “ please..he is not bad. ” you watched them debate with each other. with a locked jaw and a sigh, jake nodded at neytiri.

“ you must teach him like i did. you must tell mother. you must be careful, yn. ” your shoulders dropped the tension in the room, tears finally spilling over as you threw yourself into your sister’s arms.

“ thank you, tsmuke.. ” sister. you purred.

if you could get your sister’s approval, there was no reason why you couldn’t get your mother’s. you mumbled a thank you to the great mother. for these last few moons will shape the rest of your life to come.

published .

#quaritch x reader #miles quaritch x y/n #recom miles quaritch #na'vi quaritch #miles quaritch x reader #recom quaritch #atwow quaritch #atwow quaritch x reader

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hayateart · 6 months

Text

Moshang Arranged marriage AU but with a twist.

Shang Qinghua is forced to enter arranged marriage with Mobei Jun as a show of goodwill from the human cultivators in face of Luo Binghe raising to power and forcefully uniting the human and demon realms. The catch? Linguang-Jun is the one who ascended to the Northern Kingdom throne and is the current Mobei Jun.

Many years ago, when Qinghua was still an outer disciple, there was another transmigrator, a big fan of the original PIDW. Since there was no Luo Binghe yet, he figured he would take his place and make his name as the greatest human cultivator with hundreds of wives. Airplane noticed too late what was happening and by the time he did, the guy already managed to ruin the plot. Which wouldn't be so bad, Airplane did not much enjoy his fate in the original, but the guy made it so so much worse.

In order to avoid competition, the transmigrator threw Binghe into the Abyss as soon as the little protagonist set foot into the Cang Qiong mountain. Little Binghe managed to escape the Abyss after 10 years and mostly crazed took over the demon realm quickly in order to take revenge on the humans.

In that time, the other transmigrator, using his plot knowledge, rose to power and became the leader of human cultivation world. He knew he fucked up, so he quickly threw Shen Qingqiu to Binghe as the man who wronged him (little Binghe did not remember his offender's face) and basically gave up human realm to serve the new demon emperor and thus uniting the kingoms.

He offered Binghe multiple brides, some his own wives, all in hope of appeasing the crazed protagonist.

Where is Airplane in all that? Well, unlike in the original, Airplane never met his Mobei Jun and as such never became the spy for the demon realm. A change from the plot but he did not complain. At least he would not die after betraying his favourite character, so even if the world is fucked, that's better for him, right?

Well, no. The marriage happens. Shang Qinghua has no choice but to comply, or he will be forced to face the transmigrator and the crazed protagonist's wrath.

The marriage is not happy. On good days Linguang Jun simply ignores his husband. On bad days, he reminds him that he absolutely detests humans and the only reason he agreed to the marriage was Luo Binghe - the Emperor found the situation funny. Also, with one of the Peak Lords in the court, the Demon Emperor had more influence on Cang Qiong Sect.

In the meantime Shang Qinghua tries to find out what happened to the OG Mobei Jun and discovers that Shen Qingqiu who is locked in the Demon Emperor's dungeons, fortunately not turned into a human stick yet, also recently transmigrated.

So what happened to Mobei Jun? Well, the same transmigrator who tried to get rid of Binghe, tried to get rid of Mobei as well. He remembered from the PIDW that Mobei was once held by Huan Hua Palace as prisoner and he tried to kill him then and there. As his last defence, Mobei Jun encased himself in never melting ice tomb and is still in the Water Prison, waiting. He ages and dreams, and, surprise, since all he can do is dream, Meng Mo instead of Binghe latches onto Mobei. From his prison, Mobei Jun become a pretty powerful dream demon himself.

Mobei, in his dreams, wanders to the Northern Kingdom often and finds very unhappy Qinghua by the side of his uncle. Together with Qingqiu, they all plot to overthrow Linguang Jun and get Mobei to his rightful place as well, defeat the other transmigrator and expose him to Binghe, and maybe help Binghe as well since he does not seem happy. Qinghua still considers him his son, and since the story is now real and very much off the rails, he wants his son to have a proper happy ending as well.

#shang qinghua #mobei jun #moshang #luo binghe #shen qingqiu #bingqiu #fanfiction i will never write #svsss #mxtx

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carrotkicks · 6 months

Note

HI!! I’m the original anon that asked abt the bsd fnaf au and!!! Oh my god it’s so interesting!!! I love your choices for the characters… especially Yosano as the puppet and dazai as Michael afton it fits both of their characters so well and just !!!!

YEah so Dazai was definitely the original reason I started thinking about this au. Firstly to give him unnecessary trauma, but also I think Dazai being in a hero/protagonist role is far more interesting than him being the mastermind to the plans. Need more of Dazai getting rough and dirty. Actively grabbing the plot by the reins. I'm tired of how he gets used by asagiri. I NEED HIM TO FAIL.

So firstly, Michael is a really cool character (for such a barely present one) because he's simultaneously a bad guy but also a person trying to do good, and definitely not a hero. It fits well with Dazai's premise. Alternatively I think Michael being a zombie, a ghost possessing his own corpse, would be an interesting concept to apply onto Dazai. Dazai who believe he's No Longer Human, and craves death because he doesn't want to exist, because living is painful. Now in this au Dazai actually died, but he didn't stop existing. He should be dead and gone but he isn't, he survived, but he's still undead and decaying. He is literally no longer human but now he longs to be human. Life was painful but death is Excruciating, and Dazai never liked pain.

I also think the dynamic between Dazai and Q is far more darker twisted than whatever Mike and Crying Child had (considering Q said Dazai was the reason of their suffering, and Daz seems to genuinely detest Q). But if you recontext them into a normal sibling dynamic, it really could end with Dazai accidently killing Q.

Anyways misc things about fnaf!Dazai: I think the timeline would be: 14 during 1983, 16 in 1985, 17 when Elise dies, 18 in 1987 (in order to get an overnight security job), between 18-22 for Sister Location when he dies, and 24 for Fnaf 1 in 1992. All the dead kids have a personal connection to Dazai in a way, which is why he continues on with his mission. Shortly after Elise's death, Dazai learns about Mori's crimes and tries to get Fukuzawa to help him take him down, but Fukuzawa refuses, so for majority of the story, Dazai is on his own, until he finally reconciles with Golden Feddy (aka ghost Q and Aku) and they team up.

here's him. He usually has a security uniform jacket on but I wanted to make it known that he still does the bandages. He wears a wig and illusion disks(lmao. if you know, you know) to look a little more human. And Dazai never wore bandages except for his arms before he died, and he always covered the bandages with his sleeves. After being scooped, Dazai wears bandages more to hold his body together. He has a lot of exposed leftover wires from Ennard and a lot of torn up patches of skin. He also has the hollow possessed eyes like the other ghosts.

Onto Yosano as the Puppet! I don't have as much to say because I thought this was a relatively obvious decision. Mori's first victim. Her healing powers can fit in a way to the Puppets life/possession giving powers. She's Fukuzawa's daughter in this universe. she's 11 when she dies.

Here's her Ghost Form :)

#bsd fnaf au #doodles #ask

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mamayan · 8 months

Note

YAN MY BABYGURL CONGRATA ON YOUR MILESTONE!

I am here to give my try for your Russian Roulette. Can be nsfw or not (your decision and how you feel like 💋)

9, 37, 46, 61 either with Kyojuro or Kokushibo ❤️

BANG! … no bullet was shot—

Kokushibo

“Let me hold you?” || Sleep || Tangled hair || Soulmates

tw: Suggestive • NSFW • Suggestive Angst

wc: 618

“Please…”

He should kill you.

“Let me hold you?”

If he allows this to continue any longer, you’ll surely infect his mind further. You, an enchantment no doubt, have haunted him for months with that sweet scent and earnest gaze. A weak creature not meant for the night like he, yet you so kindly embrace him despite his monstrous appearance and wicked deeds. His desire for strength and achievement shudders beneath your fingers.

He should kill you.

You who sleepily wraps your arms around his neck as he lowers himself over you, brushing his lips against your own while you invite him into your bed again. You should know better, he has warned you many times in the past. You aren’t very obedient, but he hardly cares when you part your lips for him to taste you. His kiss is sensual, slower and gentler than usual. He’s savoring you, the feeling of you close to him while his blackened soul writhes against the clean half you possess. Your soft figure beneath him is the most right he’s ever felt in over four hundred years and he knows you are his own personal punishment for his sins against humanity. You don’t listen when he tells you to run, but you open up so willingly when he slots himself between your thighs. His hands greedily tracing your figure, squeezing you almost painfully as he assures himself once more you are real and not a figment of his lonely mind.

He should kill you.

Except his mind goes blank as he sheathes himself inside you, your body warm and welcoming for him as you mewl in pleasure. Your tight entrance is wet enough he hardly needs any force to sink to your deepest parts. He loses the fight immediately, succumbing to your eyes devoid of anything but complete adoration and acceptance. He loses the battle when you moan his name and beg for more, “Michikatsu, harder please—.” A great warrior crumbling before a mere human, seduced and destroyed.

His hand wraps around your delicate throat, other arm braced to lean himself over you so he can watch. All six eyes he detests normally but feels grateful for now trained on you, watching every little reaction as he softly holds you down while his hips work to throw you into ecstasy. The way your eyes water but never leave his face, lips parted and gasping for breath his cock keeps stealing from you, he watches in fascination and anxiety.

He could kill you.

You wouldn’t even resent him. So much unfathomable understanding in your eyes, it’s a wonder you still hold the compassion that you do. The trust you place in him, a demon no one could love, yet you do the unthinkable effortlessly.

“Michikatsu, I’m—,” he can feel your body tightening, trembling below.

��I know.” He loses himself again, in your pleasure and softness, in your arms which hold him gently. His hair spills, tickling your neck as he lets his canines lightly graze over the sensitive skin where your pulse races. “Go ahead, break for me.” His guttural tone is all you need to fall apart, clinging to him tightly as he finds release inside of you too. Your name on his lips as he loses again.

He should kill you...

Your hands tangle in his hair, sweaty skin making you glow in the low candle light. “I love you,” it’s nearly inaudible but he hears it. Your smile is more radiant than the sun he can not bask in.

He should kill you… before you make him forsake his own immortality to die with you.

You’re asleep before he whispers the words aloud.

“I love you too…”

post dividers/@cafekitsune

#500 Event #kokushibo #kny kokushibo #Kokushibo smut #demon slayer #kny smut #kimetsu no yaiba #kny michikatsu #kokushibo x reader #short drabble

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myslvtwritings · 9 months

Note

Hii! Can you please do Muzan, Kokushibo, and Akaza with a super clingy s/o who always wants to be near them and hold/be held by them?

Yup!! definitely.

➤ Muzan, Kokushibo and Akaza with a clingy!S/O

➤ SFW headcanons

•

(not proof read)

Muzan

Muzan never has experienced a single ounce of affection in his life.

So when you enter the picture and you’re all over him, all up in his personal space, basically attached to his hip, Muzan detests it.

He despises it in the beginning, wanting nothing to do with you. Views clingy people as pathetic and sees affection has a weakness.

It destroys his ego whenever you make him go all soft for you so for that he avoids you.

But if you’re close enough with him he’ll allow it.

If he allows it that just means he likes it.

Especially loves it when you comfort him after he’s had a bad day. (Which is like everyday because he cannot seek out that damn blue spider lily)

Complains about it as you play with his hair or hood him in your arms.

You’re always the one initiating cuddle sessions.

But on the days you’re not in a good mood, Muzan will surprisingly hold you without you having to ask.

Isn’t opposed to holding you whatsoever.

He knows you’re super clingy but make sure you steer away from him when he’s in a bad mood.

If you continuously cling to him whenever he’s pissed off this man will not tolerate it.

Might break your hand if you try to touch him and will not feel bad until later when he’s calmed down.

On any other day, he couldn’t care less if you cling to him.

Will bring you to uppermoon meetings because he hates leaving you alone in the house anyway.

You accompany him to the meetings while he chastises his upper-ranked demons.

You’re either on his lap during these meetings or standing right next to him.

The other demons are just flabbergasted on how you’re that close to him.

Kokushibo doesn’t care that much, Douma just think it’s amusing, Akaza is beyond confused, Hantengu is scared, Gyokko prolly says something about it and in return gets decapitated for speaking lowly of you and Daki and Gyutaro envy you. Especially Daki. 💀💀

Kokushibo

Alright, Koku here doesn’t exactly hate it and he isn’t even against it, he just isn’t all that used to it!

So when you approach him and you’re all over him, kissing him, playing with his hair and just never leaving him he is taken aback.

Is also semi-surprised that you aren’t scared of him since he’s the most powerful upper-ranked.

Like, are you not petrified, hello??

Koku also gets a tiny bit flustered as first with how physically affectionate you are all the time.

Then again he isn’t used to it so he blushes and feels his body warm up by your charming presence.

However, in due time his flustered personality vanishes and he opens up more to you.

I feel like he has some trust issues so he’s hesitant when trusting you until he realizes how amazing you are.

He doesn’t really express his emotions but deep down he’s always shocked how a sweet, innocent creature like you isn’t scared of him considering your bitter sweet personality.

Lowkey loves it when you baby him.

Kokushibo adores being with you but i’m afraid you cannot tag along with him when he has to intend the meetings.

You’ll get killed in spot, even if he’s against it.

If you were a demon, it would be different.

Kokushibo desires to be with you forever, wants you to be by his side for all eternity and offers to turn you into a demon.

All though, he’s lowkey paranoid that if you become a demon you’ll adorable clingy personality will disappear.

Why must life be so hard?

Akaza

Like Kokushibo, he isn’t used to it but does warm up to your behavior rather quickly and learns to adapt to it.

Ends up loving it, obviously. Out of all the uppermoon demons he probably the most human-like. Your clingy personality feels oddly nostalgic to him.. (ifykyk)

Akaza finds you very strange sometimes but that’s only because he’s never met a human like you before! Like how are you so touchy and clingy? He’s killed hundreds of people yet you stare at him with so much love glistening in your gaze.

It confuses him but whatever.

Akaza isn’t as clingy as you are but as y’all’s lovely relationship progresses he finds himself wanting to be with you all the time.

Akaza always has his hands all over you, the same way you do to him!

Usually he’s in a very bad mood when Muzan treats him like shit or when Douma teases him.

Immediately comes home to you, seeking your comfort and warm touch.

Of course you reciprocate and smother him in kisses or hugs.

I like to think Akaza gets REALLY flustered if you pepper his face in kisses. Like it makes his face flush immediately and he giggles.

You think it’s fucking adorable so you keep in mind to do that on the days he’s upset.

You hold Akaza in your arms as he vents to you about whatever made him mad.

Akaza wishes more than anything he could bring you along to the uppermoon meetings but knows the consequences so unfortunately you can’t attend them with him:(

The very moment he returns from them you’re all up in his business.

You legitimately just pounce into his arms as soon as the door opens, scaring him in the process.

Akaza makes sure to satisfy your clingy self to make up for him being gone for so long. He makes sure to spend all his time with you for the rest of the night.

Sorry this disappearing again my lovely readers🙏 but i’m back for now to write y’all’s requests:)

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zozo-01 · 22 days

Text

"maybe god does love you enough to save you. maybe they were god all along."

This fic is part of the 'Hot Boi Summer Springback' Event ran by the Skyside Discord and organized by the lovely @angelicaether!! Thank you Aether and everyone else for participating in the event and you can read all of their fics on this master list here!!

For this I heard one line from Sam about how he wanted Darlin' ever since he's met them, and of course I had to fucking run with it!! Mix in a little religious trauma and boom!! Fic has been made. :) Thank you to @lovelylonerliterature for being my beta reader and @autisticempathydaemon, @cashandprizes and @horrorscoupes for being my IRL Sam Collinses, hehehe. (Also Lo, the other religious trauma fic is coming. >:3)

CW: Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Religious Guilt, sam was raised southern baptist and it shows, darlin isn't catholic but they were also raised religiously, Self-Hatred, sam hates himself for being a vampire , Mentioned Alexis (Redacted ASMR), Mentioned Quinn (Redacted ASMR), only by names and action, Blood Mention, Blood Drinking, Disordered Eating, he is a vampire after all and he hates it, Mentioned Character Death, Referenced Character Death, Mentions of Minor Injuries, darlin is involved so of course there are injuries, sam is going through an existential crisis while darlin is just there teehee

click here for the ao3 link!!!

There were two types of blood to Samuel Collins. The ones he could barely tolerate and the ones he downright detested. It took a while for some of the former to graduate into the latter, but he doubted that he would ever be the kind of vampire that would savour the taste of blood. It was fuel, barely even food to him.

He chugged another blood bag, following it with a sip of his bourbon. The alcohol burned down the tangy aftertaste, making it slightly easier to digest it. For the first time in a decade, he found himself in an intense hunger, almost as bad as his bloodlust. He couldn't figure out what it was. He didn't feel extra stress, nor was he exerting his magic all that much. Whatever the case was, the result was him downing more blood than he did during his newborn years.

He sighed, staring at the empty bag and cup in his hands. He would wonder what he did to deserve all of this, but he's known the answer since he was younger and brighter. Throwing the bag into the trash, he poured himself a full glass of his bourbon and flopped onto his couch. Sam took a swing, hoping to get rid of the residual blood clinging to his throat.

He hated himself for the fact that he needed blood to survive, he was a healer for God's sake. Yet he hated himself for hating himself in the first place, stuck in a vicious cycle that would never end. There was nothing wrong with drinking blood, it's the same principle of humans eating meat. Sometimes, the lion has to eat the gazelle in order to survive. The circle of life. But Sam couldn't help but feel disgusted, filth finding its way from heart and tainting his body.

Guilt ate him alive, his old prejudices coming back to haunt him. He's met wonderful vampires, both before and after his turning. And he would never think of Vincent as a monster. But he couldn't help the little thoughts in his head that the fact that he was a vampire was wrong. He was just a monster, a feeder and a leech. (It's funny how his father's voice haunted him to this day.)

Sam never understood the difference between drinking the supposed blood of Christ and this, one was deemed holy and the other made him a heathen. If he drank blood from a holy source, then would his sins be washed away? Was there a chance that if he swallowed his pride and walked to the altar with a chalice in hand, would God, the Forgiving, forgive him?

The vampire forsaken God long after he was forsaken. It didn't stop Sam from making small prayers when times got rough, despite the fact that He wouldn't hear him. Some habits die hard, he knows that all too well.

He wondered how long it would take for him to make peace with his new lease on life. There was no chance of trying to go vegan, he'd exhausted every avenue of research in that direction. Meaning this was it. There was nothing more he could do to save his damned soul. He loathes Alexis a little more each day he goes without the sun kissing his skin like it used to.

Daddy always said that he was a dirty sinner at heart, his soul was stained from birth. It made sense that his physical body would match his sinning core. Alexis was just God's punishment for the monster that he was. Maybe if he spent more time on his hands and knees, he would have escaped his fate.

(That didn't explain them though. There was no way that He would send them his way. If Alexis was his punishment, then they were his salvation. Yet the only reason he could conceive as to why they came into his life was to punish him harder, teach him a lesson he's spent his life internalizing. He'd only pray that they won't get caught up in his hellish flames.)

It took two cups of bourbon and a whole lot of water for Sam to finally stop gagging at the blood. Funny how when he was younger, he would lick his bloody lips as a showing of strength and pride. He felt powerful when he consumed his blood. Now look at him, disdain was all that was left of the broken man sitting on the couch.

Time travel was the only answer to his problem, going back to the past to tell his younger self that Alexis wasn't worth it. The fun and wild thrill she gave wasn't worth the utter agony that would come his way. At the very least, he would tell himself to make it clearer to her that he didn't feel the same. But he didn't, and he got exactly what he deserved.

There's no use living in the past, he told himself out loud. What's done is done and all he could do was make do with the hand life has dealt him. Staring out the window, the millions of stars stared back at him with judgment. Fuck them, who gave them the right to cast their holy gaze to him. Not when they stood high up on their throne in heaven. They had no idea how hard it was to stay pure down on Earth. Lucky bastards must be thrilled to watch him suffer for their entertainment.

(Doesn't that sound familiar? I'm talking about you.)

His residual anger was enough to burn the forest surrounding his forced home, but he had to get it under control. There was time to rage and lament to the world, but tonight wasn't it, not when they would be coming by shortly.

The partnership he had with Darlin' was tentative, despite him already saving their sorry ass. Both of them were still trying to feel the other out, ready to pounce if the other showed signs of traitorous actions. Beyond that, he could tell that Darlin' was a good person with their heart in the right place. A bit of a bleeding heart, something he didn't expect at all, but it was a welcome surprise. If they met in different circumstances, then things may have been different.

If they had been born earlier, or him later, then they may have caught each other on the D.A.M.N. Campus. He'd stare at them, hopelessly enamoured with the shifter that stood maybe a few feet away. How could he not, they were absolutely beautiful. Prettier than the songbirds that would fly by or the sun's light that formed a halo on their head. His buddies would laugh at him, dying that the Samuel Collins, fuckboy extraordinaire, fell in love. But hell must have frozen over, for he was a fool just for them.

He would saunter towards them, his flirty tone immediately dismantled by their smile. Yet his awkwardness would endear them for some reason and they would let him court them, something no one thought he was capable of.

He would lead them back to his house, laying them on his bed and showing them how much he loved them-

Sam's mouth dried up and his fangs started to ache at the thought of their body under him. Goddamn it, he needed another damn blood bag. Trudging back to the kitchen, he drained another bag, not bothering with a cup as he drank straight from the bourbon bottle to wash down the taste.

This was getting ridiculous. Absolutely, fucking stupid. He couldn't turn into a fucking newborn every time he thought about them. He shouldn't even be thinking about them like that. It was wrong, and indecent, and robbed them of autonomy. He felt like an abomination for even daring to fantasize about them. He was nothing but a sinner and he couldn't taint their light.

That didn't stop his fangs from elongating at the thought of their blood anyway. He couldn't help it. They were just so damn bright and wonderful, he had no choice but to forget his own immoral heart. When bathing in the rays around Darlin', there was nothing to focus on but them. Their enchanting laugh and crude jokes burrowed their way deep into Sam's heart, and they wouldn't be leaving any time soon.

And their blood, don't even get him started. Unfortunately for his lust and hunger (he doesn't want to call it love right now), he's had the chance to smell their blood quite often. From large gaping wounds that he would heal to that stupid blood-soaked jacket that Darlin' refused to let go, he's sure he knows their scent as well as the priest knows his congregation. Something about how shifters have more magic in their blood compared to other empowered people, but he knew that wasn't the reason.

It was just because it was Darlin' and that they were incredible and wonderful. It was no secret that they were a vampire magnet, catching all of their attention whenever the two went out. His own blood would curl and rage would flow through his veins, jealousy taking reign of his wicked heart. But he couldn't blame any of them. Most vampires look for salvation in the people they bite, hoping the magic in their blood will be enough to save them.

But they had more potent blood, even more than the average shifter. It had to have been a blessing for them, their magic so powerful and their blood being a reflection of that. He could tell from the moment they bled all over their couch, and it made every vampire obsessed with having the taste of their blood. Their blood smelled like the blizzards they faced and he wondered if it tasted as cold as they smelled. Or maybe their blood was as warm as their sunshine self.

Clearly, he wasn't any better than the vampires who'd grab them and bare their fangs to force their blood into their mouths. He was utterly disgusting.

Sam watched the clock on top of the fireplace. (He stared at the judging eyes looking back at him.) They should be here sometime soon, knowing they'd arrive five minutes early because they're just so damn respectful of his time. It would be easier to hate, or at the very least control his fondness for them if they were a little terrible. They were an asshole and a little shit, but awful? Never in a million years.

He had to find a way to curb his craving for them, out of respect for them and to remind himself that he didn't deserve good things. How he got addicted to a drug before he took it was beyond him. But they were absolutely magical so he wouldn't put it past the realm of possibility.

Exactly when he expected, he heard their motorcycle park itself in front of the porch. The roaring engine woke the butterflies in his stomach, having to stop himself from zipping around the house in excitement.

A few relaxing breaths later, Sam deemed himself ready to face Darlin'. His bloodlust was in control and his heart calmed down from the earthquake it was. He stood in front of the door, waiting for Darlin' to finally knock on the door and bless him with their parents.

An eternity later, soft knocks filled the air and his cheeks started to hurt with a smile. Of course, he gave a couple of seconds before he opened the door, not wanting to look desperate for opening the door immediately.

Eyes meeting theirs, Sam lost his breath for a few minutes. The stars he cursed earlier shone brightly in their eyes, galaxies swirling into a beautiful kaleidoscope of divine essences. His heart picked up again, giving up on controlling it and instead hoping that Darlin' can't hear the pounding in his chest.

(Momentary silence filled his brain when tranced by their gaze. He doesn't know how the fuck they did it. The voices that filled his head, of the father he abandoned and the women who condemned him, all went quiet with their smile. Only their sweet voice and unintentional sweeter words remained in his brain. Rosaries were nothing but decorative garbage to him, but they were able to silence the demons in his head. Who needs a cross when their protection was all a man needs?)

A hand waving in front of his face tore him from his thoughts. "Hello? Earth to the Cowboy? Anyone home?" they joked with him, but there was that twinge of concern in their voice. Too caring for his wicked heart.

"Yeah, everythin's good here, darlin'," he reassured, nodding while moving to the side to let the wolf in. He had to hold his breath when they walked by him, their sweet scent entering his nose and driving himself. Had he been a weaker man, he would have pinned them right where they stood, but he'd had enough experience beating himself for his desires.

Sam went into the kitchen to get some water for them, knowing that it's probably been a while since they drank a cup of water. The way they chugged down the water was all the indication he needed.

With water in their body, Darlin' got to the root of why they were there. Quinn had been sending some of his lackeys after them, to stalk and intimidate them to go back to him. So far, their efforts hadn't amounted to anything, just some poor bastards who were promised a bump in pay if they were able to bring them to him. But recently, Quinn had been sending stronger mercenaries their way. Nothing they couldn't handle, but the escalation was definitely concerning, for who knew what his next steps would be.

If his mother was here, she would have told Sam to send Darlin' off with a rosary and prayer. That would be enough to keep evil spirits away, himself included. Unfortunately for him, they would balk at the idea of having something to protect them, which was the only thing that was stopping him from becoming their bodyguard.

He had more selfish intentions though, the rotten thing he was. If he spends more time with Darlin', then he can silence the voices permanently. Their heavenly light could cast out the darkness entrenched in his heart.

Once they were finished venting about this recent development, they slumped in their seat, exhausted from their constant vigilance. Truly, they didn't deserve any hardships in life. They were too good to deserve anything like this. Blessed with a kind heart and strong resolve, why would it dare be wasted on a desolate place such as this?

God loves you, but not enough to save you.

"I didn't know you were religious," their questioning tone brought him out of his thoughts. He found it silly that they would ask a question like that until he saw what they were looking at.

It was an old crucifix on top of his fireplace, golden in colour and with various coloured gems. On it were the eyes that have been judging him since he left Mont Blanc. It had been a gift from his mother before he ran away, her way of blessing him on his journey. But it served more as a reminder of how far he's fallen from the golden boy he was all those years back.

The eyes of Jesus bore into his soul, asking him what was the point of him dying for his sins if he still turned out to be a heathen.

Hand waving in front of his face, he remembered that Darlin' was in the room with him. The heat from the crucifix's eyes died down, maybe wondering if they would deal their final blow to him.

"Yeah- um, my momma gave it to me 'fore I left home," he started to explain, finding any way to skirt this conversation and meaningfully answer their question. "She was a Southern Baptist at heart, thought a cross could save a life." He smirked at that sentiment, clearly it didn't do anything to save him. He didn't give himself any chances.

Their gaze was transfixed on the crucifix to the point where they didn't even look back to face him. Maybe it was a similar likeness that was calling out to each other? Who could know with that one.

"It's beautiful," their hazed voice filled the room. He looked back at the crucifix, not finding anything notable about it. It was just a wooden thing with a dead man on it. Nothing holy to worship, just a sign of empty promises made toward forgiveness.

If anything, the wolf in front of them was more worthy of worship and prayer, because he knew that any pact made with them would be worth it. Why pray to the dead when the living is so much better?

A genuine curiosity about their interest made him ask the question, "you religious growin' up too?" They never gave off the vibe of being God-fearing, but some people hide it better than others. Or learn how to not shove it down peoples' throats.

"I was, not Catholic though," they answered while finally turning back to face him. "Wasn't Southern Baptist either," they added with a chuckle. His wolf was filled with interesting little factoids. He couldn't imagine his Darlin' on their knees praying, but they always had a hopeful outlook that it was hard not to think they didn't believe in the divine. He hummed in acknowledgement, going back and sitting silently next to them.

"If you don't mind me asking…" their voice trailed in hesitation, a tell-tale sign that they were looking for permission to continue speaking. He nodded, giving them the OK to finish their question. Their eyes went back to the crucifix with a questioning look in their eye. "Why keep it around if you're not super religious?"

Sam understood it was a valid question to ask, even if he had a complicated answer to it. Was he supposed to tell Darlin' that he kept the cross around as his failure? That if he shut up and lived the life of pain that his parents laid out for him, then he wouldn't have ended up as the monster he was now. He hated himself and there was no one better than God to keep judging him.

"Well…" he stalled, trying to find a suitable answer. "I keep it as a reminder of where I came from," he started, only to scoff. "And where I don't want to go back to." He'd rather go through his accident again than go back to that hellscape. "'Sides, it's nothin' but a piece of wood. Ain't nothin' magical to it."

There was a contemplative look on their face, finding a way to choose their next words without touching on any sensitive subjects. Their narrowed eyes could burn a hole in the floor they were staring at and he could only wonder about the thoughts firing off in their head. (Really, he wondered if they ever thought of him with this level of intensity.)

"Do you believe in God?" they asked with a quiet tone. Now that was a question that he didn't expect from them.

"I just told ya I was raised religious," he snarked, "I don't know what you're tryin' to say."

They rolled their eyes, flicking his arm in protest of the teasing. "You're such an asshole, leech," they laughed it off and Sam was sure that was the sound of the seven trumpets. What a beautiful way to die.

They went quiet again, their eyebrows furrowed in curiosity. "You don't have to be religious to believe in God, ya know."

"Oh yeah? What 'bout you Darlin'? Do you believe in God?" he asked in retaliation, interested in what their answer would be. Part of him hoped that they didn't, that he was right in putting his faith in what he could see.

"I do," they said bluntly. It wasn't the answer he was hoping for, but he kept quiet to let them keep talking. "I was raised with the whole 'what's written with you is meant for you'. Basically, what God wants to happen will happen." They rest their head on Sam's shoulder and his arm instinctively wrapped around them. "I know most people don't like that idea, 'cuz it robs them of autonomy. But I don't know, I've always found it comforting. No matter how much bad shit happens to me, it won't be more than I can bear."

"And if it is too much for you to handle?" he questioned gently.

"Then God would write some comfort for me," they giggled. "I know it's stupid, but it's the little things that get me through the day." They yawned and made themselves comfortable on his shoulder. Sam could feel his heart pounding. "You still haven't answered my question."

He took one last look at Darlin', with their pretty face trying to fight off the exhaustion that caught up to them. He couldn't stop staring at their eyes. Sweet and forgiving, they were the eyes he wished would look at them whenever he went to church. They were what God's gaze was supposed to be, free from the hate and judgement he suffered from the congregation. Maybe if they were guiding him from the start, then none of this would have happened. They wouldn't allow any bad things to happen to him.

(Then again, if he was never turned then he wouldn't have met Darlin'. Or at least they would meet in a drastically different context. He wouldn't have the chance to fall in love with them. So maybe Darlin' was right that there was a light at the end of the tunnel for everyone. He just can't believe that he deserved that respite.)

Contemplation be damned, there was no point in thinking about the question when he already knew the answer. "Yeah, suppose I still believe in God, just found it on my own terms." They didn't need to know that they were the only God that he believed in. His mind already started building the shrines in their honour, wondering if they would ever be enough to share his love for them.

It was much easier than saying the words 'I love you'. He may never have the courage (or the right) to say those words.

"I'm glad… that you could tell me…" their voice teemed with yawns and sleep. He chuckled, of course Darlin' would push back on precious sleep in order to listen to his response. That simple action did more for him than any divine being he was forced to worship.

Gently as he could, knowing that Darlin' was a light sleeper, he picked them up and brought them to his spare bedroom. As much as he so wanted to bring them to his bed, that was a big step that neither of them were ready for. Hell, they haven't even hinted that it was something they would be interested in, and his heart wouldn't survive precious Darlin' sleeping in his bed. But it was ok, he would wait an eternity to be with them.

Sam watched them as they slept, eyeing the little details that they hid in their waking moments. Like how their eyebrows were so expressive, or the way their lip scar would stretch with their smile.

This was so very wrong. Watching them sleep, observing them so carefully, he was being a fucking creep for this. But he couldn't help but not look away. Darlin' was so reserved in their waking moments, and he wanted to see them at their most vulnerable. Even if he was tainting them with his corruption, leave him be! He deserves to be a remorseless, selfish thing once in a while. They were so endearing in their sleeping state, and he promised to always protect them in all of their glory. From their sweet eyes and beautiful body and split lip-

There was blood dripping from their face.

His mouth watered before the intoxicating scent hit his nose. Sam froze where he stood, torn between the want to lick the blood of his face and the need to leave. His heart versus his conscience. He had fed only an hour ago and of course, their blood was enough to make him starve again. His shaky hands wiped the blood from their face and then quickly cleaned it off with a napkin in his pocket, not even giving himself the chance to taste it.

He ran out of the room, locking the door behind him to keep them safe from him. His chest heaved with panic, heart racing a marathon. It wasn't fair that Darlin's blood had this much of an effect on them, but it wasn't their fault either. This was Sam's problem to deal with, and he'd be damned if he made his Darlin' feel guilty over something they had no control over.

Calming himself to a reasonable point, he made his way back to the kitchen. Sam opened up the damn fridge to grab another damn blood bag and a bottle of bourbon, sliding onto the floor and chugging it all over again. If only he was normal, then he would just slip into bed and cuddle his wolf, and not run out at the sight of something as simple as blood.

At this point, he's sure that Darlin' would never want him. They've told him little bits and pieces about their relationship with Quinn, and how absolutely vile he was to them. From biting them without their consent to pressuring them into taking care of him, it's no wonder that they would be a little hesitant to jump into another relationship with a vampire. He had his own gripes with Alexis. But Sam was coming to the awful realisation that he was more like Quinn than he thought.

Shame and disgust filled his throat once again. It wasn't fair that Darlin' was stuck with monster after monster, they deserved so much better than him. Yet he couldn't help the jealous bile that filled his mouth at the thought of Darlin' with another person. What an awful predicament.

He gazed back at the crucifix with judging eyes. Only they weren't as harsh this time. Still judging as ever, but this time there was a hint of… was it encouragement? That wasn't the right term, but it was as if they were nudging him on a certain path. If he was truly willing to repent and walk the path of salvation, then somehow Darlin' would be a part of that journey.

He let out a wistful laugh, finding it impossible that Darlin' would ever want to waste their time 'fixing' him. But there was a corner of his heart, one where a sliver of light made its presence known.

Maybe God does love you enough to save you. Maybe they were God all along.

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted fanfic #redacted sam #redacted darlin #IM GOING BACK TO MY ROOTS #TO MY FAVE COUPLE!!!!#hot boi summer springback #zo writes tingz #this is zo speaking

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bluetrapeze · 10 months

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Perfectly Flawed, Richard John Grayson

Thinking about Dick Grayson's relationship with being, in his own eyes, perfect.

He grew up with parents who were trapeze artists, one's who didn't use a safety net. They couldn't make a mistake, it was never an option.

He matured with Bruce Wayne, who's physically and mentally in peak human condition. He was the boy wonder, who saved countless lives. A mistake wouldn't just affect him, he shouldered the burden of responsibility for other lives.

He led the Teen Titans. He led other heroes, heroes who had superpowers, who were essentially demi-gods. Dick had to be perfect to keep up, and even that wasn't really enough. He was never the heavy hitter, he's normally the most fragile and the team member who's to deal the least damage.

But Dick's brilliant. He's a gifted leader, meaning he's a vital part of any team, even without the powers his fellow heroes possess. Dick Grayson knew from a young age that he would never match the physical might of many of those he fought, so he out-thought them. Brains over brawn, that's why Dick Grayson is so inspiring.

It's also probably why I detest Fandom Himbo Nightwing so much. Himbo Nightwing doesn't make sense, Dick Grayson isn't remotely himbo-like in canon. Portraying Dick as a guy who doesn't plan or isn't methodical just doesn't make sense and actually goes against his portrayal in the past.

I hope we never see the ridiculous fandom characterisation flatten and undermine Dick's character. He's driven by a need to be perfect, without that drive he's more Ric than Dick. (Bad analogy but you get my point)