#staring at him with pain and hate and fear and confusion all over her face

[spidernuggets]

No. 18 "Plea- Please. I can't be hated by you, I just can't" with reader saying this to Jason because he just found out that the Joker is her father

Jason Todd x Reader

"Plea- Please. I can't be hated by you, I just can't."

You tried long and hard to fall out of your father's tight grasp of holding you hostage, telling you many times that you are his flesh and blood. His family. His face and name.

He's repeated that no one in the world will ever love you except him. And even if someone did, if they find out who you're related to, they'd instantly stop loving you. No one in the world is aware of your existence except for him and a few of his goons. Not even Batman knows that the Joker has a kid.

You've watched the Joker torture, maim, kill so many innocent people. You've watched him force other men who can't fend for themselves to work for him.

And for what? Your father does this for a good laugh. Because he's bored. Because he wants to play Tag with Batman.

But with endless lectures and monologues from the Joker, somehow, you remain to stay sane. But every time you tried to escape his hold, he somehow still managed to find you. How does he do it?

You found out from overhearing a discussion to kill Batman that the Joker would use Scarecrow's fear toxin on you to do his bidding, knowing that maltreatment wouldn't get you to do what he wants. And upon this discussion, you hear that you can't escape. That you could never escape from him. He planted a tracking chip, under your tongue.

You instantly ran to what is labelled as your bedroom. But in reality, it's just a small, cramped space with mould growing in all corners, cracks in the walls, and dried blood stains on the floor. But toss an old mattress there, and suddenly it classifies as a bedroom from dear old dad.

There's a shattered mirror hanging on one of the walls. You grab a shard off the floor, staring into the mirror, looking desoerate to take the tracker out. As soon as you lifted your tongue to rip out your tracker, you hear the Joker call for you.

"Ohhh, Y/n, my sweets!" He bellows. You drop the shard, turning to look at your dad with an unamused expression on your face, replying with a harsh 'what'.

"Clear up the attitude, hm? There's someone I'd like you to meet!" He declares, almost in a tune. Your face scrunches in confusion. Joker says no more as he walks away, expecting you to follow, as you do.

You follow him down to the ground floor of the warehouse. And you're shocked to see Robin tied up with barbed wires to a wheelchair. His face is busted, there's dark circles under his eyes, but no one would notice them seeing how bloodied his face was, and his head was hung low.

He looked scared, confused. He looked like he'd given up on trying to escape.

"Meet boy blunder 2.0!" Joker cheered, picking up his crowbar, giving Jason a swing to the leg. Jason grimaces but doesn't scream in pain. He already looks so dead. Joker scoffs in boredom. "Not playing, I see," he mutters. "No matter! I'm quite finished with you anyway. But first!"

The Joker brings out a camera, putting it right in front of Jason. You're confused as to why you were brought down to witness this. You have an understanding that the Joker would kill Robin, but you have no control over what he does. You try to help Robin, and your head would have a bullet in there.

"How long has he been here?" You quietly ask.

"Oh, you know.." The Joker chuckles. "A month... a year? Same difference," he cackles as your eyes widen.

He starts recording, and you don't realise you can be seen in the corner of the background of the footage. The Joker goes on and on with his usual, riddled speeches. Within that, it is revealed to you that this new Robin is identified as Jason Todd, who claims to hate Batman.

"Hey..." The Joker suddenly says to Jason. "I never asked. What's the big secret? Who is the big, bad bat? What's his name? Tell me!" he calmly says.

"Of course, sir. It's-"

No matter how many times you witness your father murder an innocent person, you'd never get used to the sound of his gunshot. Or the sound of his crowbar against bruising flesh. Or his maniacal cackles of dekight when he kills someone. Especially someone who is... was close to Batman.

"Never could stand a tattletale. See, my darling, Y/n?" He says to you. "This is why I work alone. No one to spoil the punchline!" He grands the camera, bringing it to get a closer look at the dead boy in front of you. "You should try it sometime." At this point, you don't know if he's talking to you or the camera. You assume this video footage would be sent to the Bat.

The Joker finishes up the footage, tossing the camera to you as you clumsily catch it. "Export the footage, my sweets. Then, send it to the coordinates that I'll send to you in a bit," he instructs to you.

"Why can't you do it?" You carefully say, trying not to get on his bad side.

"Because..." He hisses, harshly grabbing your face with a firm grip as you winced. "I told you to do it. Now go."

You glare at him, going to go export the footage and send the taoes to the coordinates, in which you assume is where Batman would be currently located.

A month later, everything is quiet. The Joker and most of his goons are out to raid Scarecrow's cookery. You take this opportunity. You head to your room, looking dead in your eyes through the mirror. You slowly open your mouth, sticking your finger in, trying to feel the lumo of where the tracker is situated.

When you find it, you grab a shard, placing it directly over the tracker. You attempted to muffle your whimpers as much as you can to make sure the rest of Joker's goons don't hear you. You were finally able to pop the tracker out, and you hold it up between your eyes, your focus on the blinking light that somehow blinds you. It makes your eyes water, but you drop the tracker to the ground, leaving it there. You're aware that if you step on it, it might send a signal to Joker, indicating that the device he planted in you had been damaged.

So you left it there in your room, you pack whatever shit you can, and you attempt once more to escape that damn warehouse. For the uears you soent in there, you took note of usually unguarded exits and the routines of your dad's goons.

And with that, you successfully stepped foot out of the warehouse. And you took no extra second to bolt away as fast and as far away as you can.

With your bolt for freedom, you go to the closest drug store. Thanks to dear old dad, you managed to steal some essentials. Vitamins, bandages- oh. And some hair dye. You go to whatever public restroom you could find. You got your pocket knife and started to messily cut your hair, along with applying every last drop of that hair dye.

You decided to stay along the outskirts of Gotham. You were never able to get out of the warehouse, so staying in Gotham, a somewhat familiar setting would be safest for you.

And since the outskirts are the poorer sides of town, where the Joker wouldn't be interested in torturing the already tortured, you knew that he wouldn't be a problem for a good while.

So you went around, figuring the in and outs of the outskirts. It's been another few years, and you've forgotten all about the Robin fiasco that occurred in the warehouse. You even forgot that he willingly revealed his identity.

The past few years had been hectic. There was a new Robin roaming around, a new crime lord emerged by the name of Arkham Knight, whose name had died down a bit and is now working alongside Batman... you think?

You were able to get a stable job at Bat Burgers. Luckily, seeing as it's a cheao, greasy fast food place, they didn't need any formal documents. You were able to rent a run-down apartment (which was a huge upgrade to your decomposing room back at the warehouse) and with a little extra cash, you were able to buy snacks for some of the kids along the outskirts.

You were fishing through your bag for your wallet when you bumped into someone, and you hit your face prettg hard against them.

"Ow! Watch it, nitwit!" You snap at them, but they scoff.

"You're the one not watching where you're going," he bites back. And you were about to make a snarky comment, but when you looked up at the stranger, you swear you saw an angel. He was tall... very tall. He also had gorgeous green eyes and a few scars on his face that made him somewhat more attractive.

Your silence indicates to him that you have nothing else to say, and he scoffs once more and leaves. You shake your head away from the thought of how good-looking he was and continued your way towards the grocery store.

You picked up a few meats and vegetables you were going to offer to the soup kitchen down the road, not forgetting to put some candy and snacks in the basket for the kids that would be there.

When you checkout, you headed straight for the soup kitchen, immediately greeting Diane, the owner of the place,with a sweet smile and a wave. You say hi to the other volunteers when you make it to the back of the kitchen, dropping off the plastic bag full of produce, telling the others you won't be long.

When you step out, you're instantly tackled by a bunch of 6 and 7 years olds hugging you tightly, all of them talking at once saying how much they missed you.

"Okay, okay," you laugh with the kids. "Hey, guess what I got," you bend down to their level, lowering your voice, as they all copied you, looking more secretive and quietening. You then whip open your bag, reveal various treats for them as the kids squeal with excitement.

"Alright, alright, one at a time!" You exclaim, happy ti see the kids enjoying their time.

When you wrap things up, you hug the kids once more, saying goodbye and that you'd see them soon. But when you swiftly turn, your face is once more met with a solid surface.

You take a step back, grabbing your nose. "Ow! Shit- again?!" You hiss, your eyes tight shut as your hands apply soothing pressure to your not really broken face.

"You know you shouldn't curse. There's kids around."

You look up, getting a sense of deja vu, seeing the same pair of emerald green eyes looking down at you smugly.

"Ugh.. you," you groaned, secretly glad you got to see him again... just wanting to admire the view, you guess.

"Ugh, me," the handsome stranger mocked with a grin. He stuck his hand out, interested to officially meet the person who continuously walks into his chest. But also, the person who manages to make these kids smile in just a split second.

"Jason."

You raise a brow at his extended arm, shaking it cautiously. "Y/n..." You say, shaking his hand. Didn't he know a Y/n from somewhere?

You notice him wearing an apron. "You volunteer here?" You question as Jason nods his head.

"Whenever I get free time. I only started volunteering recently. Otherwise, I'm just doing whatever. How bout you?"

"Just visits here and there. I don't have time to volunteer fully. Just drop off some food and snacks most of the time, though," you explain, and Jason smiles.

"Well, your time here definitely seems to cheer up those kids. They're always frowning," he says sadly, but you just shrugged.

"It's not much. It's all I can offer. This side of Gotham really isn't Wayne manor," you joke, unaware that you were having a conversation with a son of Bruce Wayne. Well... not until Diane comes up.

"Ah, Y/n! You've met Jason Todd!" She cheers.

Jason Todd. Where have you heard that name before? It's starting to itch the back of your mind.

"Yeah, glad you got another volunteer since you're getting fewer people to help out," you say with a sad smile.

"I know, but it's not every day you get a son of Bruce Wayne to volunteer in a little kitchen," she happily says. One of the workers at the back calls out to Diane for some help. "Well, better get back to work! See you soon, Y/n!" She happily says as she walks off to the back.

Your brows are high, and your eyes are wide as you stare at Jason. "You're... You're a Wayne?!" You say shockingly while looks down at you.

"You didn't know? I'm kind of famous," he starts to say as you look at him cluelessly. "Was announced dead but was actually alove, just gone missing?"

"Nah, doesn't ring a bell."

"Wow, you don't get out much, do you?" He laughs.

"As much as that is an interesting tale to tell, I'm not interested in rich people business," you say as you glance at your watch. "Look, it was nice talking to you. Sorry for walking into you or whatever, but I gotta go. Late for work," you explain as you were about to bolt out the door. But Jason stops you by grabbing your hand.

"Wait! I... I kind of wanted to get to know you more. Can.. I get your number?" He awkwardly asks.

"Oh..." You quietly say. "I... Sorry, I just... Don't have a phone.." You say in embarrassment. But it doesn't seem to bother Jason.

"Oh, well... where do you work? What time would you finish? I can.. uhm. Drop you home if you want?" He offers, and you smile.

"Batburgers. 9pm, " you say as Jason nods and you finally run out the door, sprinting to work.

As promised, Jason comes to visit you half an hour before your shift ends, talking to you about the soup kitchen as you wiped down a table.

When you walk out with him, you notice that he's walking you towards a motorcycle.

"You ride a bike?" You ask.

"Yeah, is that okay?"

"Is it okay?? It's sick!" You exclaim as you hop on behind him once he gets on. Under his helmet, he smiles, thinking how cute your reaction was, as he hands you a spare helmet.

He would be lying if he said his heartbeat sped up when you wrapped your arms around his waist. He just met you. He shouldn't be so nervous around you like this.

"So... would you be free any time this week?" He asks as he walks you up to your apartment complex. You insisted many times you can go on your own, embarrassed for Jason to see where you lived in comparison to Wayne Manor, but Jason assured you that he wouldn't care.

"I have work for the rest of the week," you reply in disappointment. "But... I guess I do finish pretty late each night... wouldn't mind a ride back," you say in hopes that Jason would accept your request of taking both a lift off of him, and his time to talk to him more.

He smiles in response, agreeing to pick you up after work as you gave him your schedule.

Your routine of Jason picking you up during the late nights after work continued. Soon, the two of you went out on actual hangouts through Gotham for a few weeks. Then those weeks turned to months. And soon, Jason frew tired of just being friends with you.

How the hell was he supposed to just be friends with you when his heart raced when you smiled. Or when his cheeks burn when you compliment him. Or when his stomach flutters when you hug him.

How the hell was he supposed to just be friends with you when he's trying so damn hard not to kiss you just because you looked so cute.

Ao he grew himself a pair and asked you out.

Obviously, you said yes.

And another of a couple of dates later, you made it official. Jason was so down bad that he asked you to move into his apartment. You told him so many times you didn't want to intrude his space, but he just called you dumb and ridiculous (which you took great offence to). But eventually, you caved in and agreed.

During this time, you have never felt so loved before. Jason made you forget that the Joker existed. That he was even your father. Jason proved the Joker wrong. There is someone who can truly love you.

But... then your relationship started to get messy. He stopped picking you up from work. He was out late at night, and he wouldn't tell you why. You found him early next morning laying on the couch. He wouldn't even come to bed anymore?

You continuously asked where he's getting these bruises and wounds from. But he wouldn't answer that either. He just told you that it wasn't your business and to leave him alone.

Today, he woke up around noon. He rubbed his eyes and cracked his neck, clearly another uncomfortable sleep.

He was looking around his surroundings when he sees a duffle bag by the door. He then hears from the oppostie side, a door being closed. He turns to see you dressed and with no clear expression on your face.

You've acknowledged that he was awake, but you refuse to make any eye contact with him. You head straight to the door, picking up your duffle bag, fishing through your stuff as you find what you were looking for while Jason remains on the couch confused.

"Where are you going?" He calls out.

"Home." You spit, pulling the spare keys that Jason gave you for his apartment and slammed it on the desk beside the door.

Jason instantly gets up. "W-what? But- But you are home! This is your home! Our home.." he says, panicking.

"Is it? Is our home, Jason?" You yell. "Because you're never here! And when you are here, you're sleeping. Then, you wake up and you go out. And you get hurt. And you're not telling me how or- or why! I don't know if you're cheating or if you're in a fight club, but clearly, you don't want me to know, and clearly, you don't care if I'm worried about you. So, yeah. I'm going home. Oh! And it's over," you hiss, glaring at his, reaching for the door knob.

"Wait- wait! Please. Please, I'll explain," Jason begs, as you turn, a stern look on your face.

Jason sits you down, telling you not to freak out.

Ans you've never hated yourself more than you do now. Jason tells you that he was Arkham Knight, now going by the name Red Hood. And that he used to be the second Robin.

You wanted to scream and cry. That's where you heard the name Jason Todd from. Jason Todd was murdered right in front of your eyes. Jason Todd was tortured by your father. Jason Todd was killed by your father. Jason Todd os dating his murderer's daughter.

You play it off. Saying that it all makes sense. Why he doesn't pick you up anymore. Why he's always out so late. Why he gets so many wounds and bruises.

You'll tell him. You'll tell him who you really are. Soon. It's not fair if he doesn't know. Especially since he's coming clean now.

You'll tell him soon.

You didn't know when soon would be. Every time you think soon is coming, the moment disappears.

Jason's either in too much of a good mood or he's having a breakdown and a nightmare. He has nightmares about the Joker torturing him. And it's you who's there to snap him out of it. It's you who's there to comfort him. You comfort him, telling him that the Joker isn't here. But you are. You tell him that you're there for him.

You feel so guilty. You tell him the Joker isn't out there to get him. But there you are. His own flesh and blood, cradling him, shushing him, whispering sweet nothings to him til he falls asleep once more.

You'll tell him soon.

You grew even more guilty when Jason brings you over to Wayne Manor, and Bruce, Dick and Tim welcome you with open arms. Bruce had this... look in his eyes. But you ignored it nonetheless. Jason gives you a tour of the Manor, even shows you the big cave downstairs, and takes you to his old room. You try to stay optimistic, joking about how he was such a berd, looking at all the classic books laying around. But then you came across an old photo of him. He's younger and in his Robin suit. He looks happy. It was obvious Robin meant so much to him. And your dad took that away from him.

You'll tell him soon.

One day, you went into the cave after receiving a call from Jason.

"Why did you call me here?" You asked.

"Joker's dead." Was all he says. And you froze. You don't know how to feel. Relieved? Does this mean you don't have to tell him who you are?

"I know this is random, but... Superman killed Joker. I don't know if I can finally breathe, but... I don't know. There's a tingle inside of me. Telling me that the Joker is still alive and out to get me."

Shit.

You'll tell him soon. You'll tell him soon, right? Maybe now? Like, the Joker's dead. You've shown nothing but love to Jason. He'd believe you. He'd believe you are not your dad. You'll tell him. Yeah, you'll tell him soon.

Jason sighs and plays the tapes. The tapes that the Joker sent to Batman when he was Robin. And your eyes widen.

"Why the hell are you watching that??" You say in complete fear. The camera that the Joker used was old and glitchy with horrible quality. But as Jason played the tapes, you could still make out that there's a half of a figure, just peeking through the camera in the background behing the tied up, young Jason Todd.

"I don't know... Trying to find a conclusion. If anyone had to kill Joker, it should've been me," Jason says with a low voice.

"Hey... I never asked. What's the big secret? Who is the big, bad bat? What's his name? Tell me!" The tape plays, displaying on the huge screen in front of the two, and you swear you'd throw up any second now.

"Of course, sir. It's-" Before the gun gets shot, Jason sighs, pausing and rewinding.

"I'm sorry. This is all so dark and heavy." Jason grumbles. You don't say anything. You're focused on the small blur in the corner of the footage.

As Jason stares as the paused footage, he mentions, "That doesn't look like one of his henchmen."

Tell him.

"Fuck me, is that another kid?" he mutters angrily to himself, leaning in, taking a closer look at the footage.

Fucking tell him.

Jason takes a breath and presses play, and the video starts with a bang.

Tell him, god dammit.

"Never could stand a tattletale. See, my darling, Y/n?" The Joker says through the video. And time stops. Was the cave always this quiet? The video is still playing. How is it so quiet??

The camera wobbles as the Joker picks it up. He walks closer to Jason's dead body, but for a split second, you're in full, clear view. And Jason pauses the video. You weren't moving. You didn't look scared. You looked fed up.

Jason is silent. That's not you. That can't be you. Jason's head turns from the footage of you to you, currently standing behind him. No, no. That's not you. Your hair colour is different. But your face has the same bone structure.

"Y/n," he calls out. Your name is now so bitter on his tongue. "Tell me that, isn't you. He meant something else, right? 'My darling'? What the fuck does that mean? He was just scaring you, right???" Jason questions, his voice raising each sentence and his bottom lip quivering.

Your eyes are blurry as tears threaten to fall. You walk to Jason, bending down, looking up and you place you hands ever so gently on his knees.

"Jason," your voice cracks. "I wanted to tell you so bad," you whimper.

And Jason lets out a harsh, sarcastic laugh. "Fuck me. Don't fucking tell me you were working with him. You're a real fucking psychopath working with him at what? 13?" He spits, tears cascading down his scarred cheeks.

You shook your head. "Jay," you tried to sweetly call out to him. "I'm his daughter," you pathetically admit.

Jason's eyes widen to the point where it looks like his eyes would detatch from his sockets. He shakes his head slowly. But then, he shakes it faster, harsher.

"That isn't funny, Y/n," he almost chokes saying your name.

"No, it's not funny," you say. "But it's true," you start crying.

Jason pushes you away. You fall back as Jason stands up, towering over you. You've never been so intimidated by him before.

"You're his daughter? The Joker has a daughter?" Jason whispers in disbelief. And you nod in response. "So what the fuck were you doing just standing there? Ha.. What? Did you enjoy watching him put me through hell?"

"Jason- No! I wasn't even there when he-"

"LIAR!" He yells, his voice echoing across the cave. His breathing becomes heavy and uneven.

"Jason, you're going to have a pani-"

"Get out." He says.

"W-what?"

"Get. Out. If I ever see you again, I'll end you. I may not have been able to kill Joker myself, but you? Making me think you loved me? Fuck, is this why you only tell me now? Because daddy's dead? Just get the fuck out and never see me ever again. This is your only chance," he says, looking away from you as you finally start sobbing.

"Jay- Jason. Please," you beg, shifting to your knees, looking up at him. "Plea- Please. I can't be hated by you, I just can't." You pleaded and begged and prayed that Jason would look at you.

But Jason knows that if he looks at your state, then he might forgive you. Might forget the situation. But he can't because your father killed him. And all in his mind is that you used him because you were working with his dad. And that you're only crying because his dad got killed and that you got caught. So, no. He won't look at you, and he won't forgive you.

"Jason, please, you- you're the only person who has ever made me feel loved," you sniffled. "And I- I wanted to help you then. Help you escape. But I couldn't, please! Please believe me, Jason, please," you cried harder.

"You weren't supposed to see that."

You and Jason's heads turn to the voice. Bruce comes out of the elevator to the Batcave, walking closer to the pair.

And all Jason could see is red.

"You knew?" He snarled. And then scoffed. "Well, yeah, of course you knew. You didn't even kill Joker when you found out he murdered me- You didn't even care!" Jason yells. "I don't care that Penguin or- or Riddler are out there. They didn't kill me! They didn't kill thousands- millions! The Joker did! And you kept him alive! Now that he's dead, guess what! His daughter is right here under our noses! And you knew! Do you hate me that much that you let the Joker's daughter into our home?"

"Jason, plea-"

"I TOLD YOU TO GET THE FUCK OUT!" Now that Jasin finally looked at you, all you saw on him face was pure spite and anger. There was no more love for you left in his eyes. Just pure hatred.

And you finally got it. Jason doesn't love you any longer. And your dad was right. Even if someone loves you, when they find out who you're related to, they will instantly stop loving you.

The Joker was right.

So you got up and shamefully left the cave, and once you reached the manor, you can still hear Jason screaming and roaring.

You were numb. You finally got a tatste of what true love felt like, and it slipped through your fingers ever so quickly.

And now the only person you thought ever loved you would kill you if he saw you again.

So you left. You took your stuff from your- Jason's apartment and left Gotham. Now, future generations would probably read about the Joker in their history books. But not on a single page, paragraph or sentence would your name be mentioned. Because only two people in the entire world knew who you were.

One of them was your father's sworn enemies. And the other was your father's victim. One of these people, you hardly knew, but he knew who you were and still trusted you and welcomed you into his home. The other didn't know who you were. And you loved him. And you were positive he loved you too. But once he found out your identity, he loathed you. And he wanted you dead.

god damn that was long

pt 2

#jason todd #jason todd is my life #red hood #titans jason todd #i love jason todd #jason todd titans #jason todd x reader #dc titans #red hood x reader #jason todd headcanon #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd x gender neutral reader #jason todd ff #jason todd fluff #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #jason todd angst #red hood x fem!reader #red hood x gender neutral reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #red hood fluff #red hood fic #red hood fanfiction #red hood angst

[sunsents]

Neteyam - Reacting to your death

Hey y'all, how y'all doing 😟? It's been a year since I published something but I am in my avatar era. I will post an announcement about where I've been, but enjoy(?) this heavy angsty.

Summary —> You're on your last breath, and Neteyam has a hard time accepting it.

Pairing: neteyamsully x !reader (no use of y/n)

Word count: 1024

Warnings: blood/angst/mentions of a g*n/sad neteyam

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

Sharp pain was all you could feel when you jumped down the ship. It was that short moment of pushing Neteyam before you to minimize exposure that the realization hit you; you followed after him without thinking twice about the consequences, yet again.

Your ears rang in the otherwise silent ocean, like the water completely separated itself from the unnatural, unnecessary and foreign violence happening in the surface. A sigh of relief, contentment, serenity, until you're resurfucing again - or rather, struggling to.

"Fuck," you sputter, feeling a strange loss.

Lo'ak shouts after you to hurry up, but you can't, and it frustrates you. You hate falling behind, no matter how dire the injury is. "You sxkawng," gasping and trying to hold onto something, crimson surrounds you. "I'm shot."

Everyone stills.

Neteyam's head whips around with nothing but pure, unadulterated horror. His eyes fall on your pained face, then the bullet wound on your chest. You can see dark shadows casting over his face, the tremor of his hands, the slowing of his breath - all working together to keep his gears turning you assume. He quickly swims forward. "Quick, the Ilu."

You feel yourself being held around your body - suddenly, warmth feels like an unfamiliar concept. When had you become so cold to the outside world? When had you closed yourself off that warmth was foreign?

Though in odd, you fashion, you're not panicking. You're just lying there, gazing at the sky and letting chaos erupt around you. Sounds are muffled, and you don't know what's happening but you can only assume they're taking you to land.

The sky looks uncharacteristically blue - against all odds you've found yourself in. Eywa is in mourning.

Maybe it's because you cannot fathom that you, your own life, cannot end. You feared losing loved ones, but never feared nor thought about dying. It's not like you were immortal of course, one day you were going to leave the physical world and join the all mother amongst your family.

You just didn't think it would happen this soon. And you still think against it - you think against it when Mr Sully lays you down on cold rock, when he turns you over to inspect something, and when he looks at you with a faraway look.

"Dad," Neteyam chokes out.

Everything hurts and you start struggling to breath. Light headed, that's when you stop thinking  all together.

"Am I-" you gasp for air, surprised that you, out of all people, is struggling to speak. You were quite chatty, at least that's what they told you. "Am I, dying?"

"No!" yells Neteyam, he's cupping your head with his palm, not letting your head touch the cold surface. "You're not dying, ____!"

He's sobbing, and you look around the faces of the people you consider loved ones. Lo'ak is wide  eyed, staring at your probably paled face. He looks in utter agony and...confusion? Mr. Sully is crying, this is the first time you have seen him cry - be so vulnerable. He was Toruk Makto, so he'd always dismiss you with a nod, sometimes crack a joke here and there but stay stern all the while. He was clutching your hand, his own shaking. Kiri was just now arriving at the little land formation, and the look of her horror on her face brings tears to your eyes. You were dying - no. You were dead, it was final.

You try to calm your breathing, an obscene contrast to the gushing blood on your chest. You couldn't speak, but you could feel. And you were feeling the love of the people around you - and with the intensity of it, you deemed it a worthy way to go.

Neteyam however, was cluthing on your hand, hard. "You are not leaving me ____....Dad!" he sobs, a wretched sound breaking through his chest as he doubles over your body and shudders. "Do something!"

He's yelling, screeching even. His dad looks in anguish at his son's state, or perhaps because he feels utterly helpless at saving you.

"It's okay, Neteyam." you say softly, in a very wispy voice; "You're going to be okay."

You smile, and he screams, trashing and hugging your body to his chest. You try to push him away, but to no avail. Your limbs have fallen weak, you have already accepted the pain. "No!" he screams again, chest reverbeting against your deflating form.

"No, no, no, no!"

Mr Sully grabs ahold of his son and softly pulls him back, seperating him from you, "Son, please," his voice sounds broken.

Lo'ak is silent beside you, head held down, shuddering. Warm droplets are hitting your arm, and you can only guess it's tears. Kiri is on her knees, begging To Great Mother.

But you know it's final. And you don't feel too sad about it. You'd get to be with your parents, and Eywa, and all that. You'd be happy, you know you would be.

"____! No, I have to tell-" Neteyam gasps, trashing in his fathers hold. "I love you, I see you. Please,"

You're eyes have finally glazed over, you're gone.

You hadn't heard, and that only breaks Neteyam more. He screams in agony, clawing at your body, shaking you so, somehow, miraculously, you would open your eyes, tell him you love him and that you wan't to spend the rest of your life with him.

But there is no, "rest”. This was it for you, this was your life. When you had told him that you wanted to spend your life exploring Pandora, this was the extent. You would never have that, you will never be able to fulfill your dream because this day was the entirety of your future and present.

Neteyam is helpless. He had somehow escaped his fathers hold and was hugging your lifeless body close to his. Shrieks were ripping from his throat, desperately trying to transfer some sort of energy into your limbs. He could feel his mother's warmth surround him, a weak force pulling him back. "Please, don't. Let me hold her."

He sounded so broken, empty, purposeless that his mother and father break down as well.

#neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #avatar twow #avatar #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #neteyam imagine #kiri sully #tuk #loak #loak sully #loak x reader #jake sully #neytiri #neytiri sully #angst #avatar angst

[mae-is-crazy]

Wow. This is it. This is the final installment to (what I wasn’t expecting to be a series) Tiny Hands. Thank you to the original requester (who submitted their request anonymous) for giving me my kickstart on this platform. Thank you to all of the readers for your funny comments that pushed me to continue writing. I cannot wait to show you what else I have in store. So (will a word count well over my expectations) I present to you TINY HANDS PART III

Tiny Hands (Neteyam x Fem! Human Reader) Part III

Synopsis: One life ends. Another begins.

(This story is unedited. Edits will be conducted at a later time).

Neteyam wakes in the middle of the night without Y/N at his side.

The first thing that hit him was confusion. He figured she had just scurried off to check her Avatar body (like it had just woken up and walked away, which of course wasn’t possible). Nothing to worry about. He mentally shrugged to himself, before snuggling deeper into the mattress and closing his eyes.

The next thing was fear. Neteyam’s ears perked up towards the bathroom door when he heard light sniffling on the other side. He sat up, giving himself a second to catch himself before he heard a quiet sob. Without even thinking, the boy leapt from his spot, tossing the blanket too small for his frame aside and almost slamming into the door. It was locked.

“Y/N?” He croaked, hating how weak his voice sounded. He knocked on the door a few times as he rested his head against the door. “Y/N, are you alright?”

The soft crying sounds stopped, but he got no answer. He knocked again. “Y/N?”

“I-I’m okay.”

Relief. He sighed, letting his forehead laze on the door. “Please, let me see you.”

Neteyam listened for the sound of her breathing. It sounded more like hiccups. She didn’t open the door for a few minutes, but when he heard the lock click, Neteyam wasted no time as he slammed the door opened, looking for his Y/N.

What he saw shattered his heart. Y/N was hovering over the sink, her hands covering her trembling lips that threatened to let out more sobs. Her eyebrows danced up and down as they scrunched together, tears staining her already deathly pale skin.

God, she looked terrible.

“Oh Y/N…” Neteyam stepped closer, kneeling down to her level and letting her collapse into him. She wrapped her bony arms around his broad shoulders, resting her head into the crook of his neck as she continued her bout of crying. Neteyam held the girl close, resting his head on top of hers as he sent her soothing shushes and back rubs. He tried to tell her the things she loved to hear- “It’s okay”, “Maway (BE CALM)”, “I’m right here”- the things that settled her down. But the frantic huffing did not stop.

Neteyam forced Y/N to pry her arms from around his neck, He cupped her face in his hands, brushing away the tears from her red cheeks. “Tell me. Tell me what is going on.”

Y/N shook her head, trying to hide her face with her hands, though Neteyam was quick to peel them away, squeezing them around his own. “Nete, I-I-I can’t do it.”

“Do what?”

Y/N waved her arms around her in a flustered frenzy. “This whole thing is just becoming too much. I-I can’t think straight.” She turned towards the mirror, cringing at the red puffy skin circling her glassy eyes. Neteyam stared at her reflection, noticing how even kneeling his forehead reached past the view of the glass. He studied the girl not even half his size here to him, the girl he promised to protect for as long as she had lived.

In this life, or another.

In this body, or another.

It no longer mattered to him.

Neteyam cleared his throat, watching Y/N wipe her nose. All this time, she’d been persistent about seeing this thing through and joining The People as full Na’vi. She never showed any sign of doubt or weakness, even throughout all of the needles and painful reactions to medications Neteyam could never pronounce correctly. But now, finally, after all this time, she allowed herself to share with her lover what he always knew was there.

“I can promise you she’s more scared than she lets on. She needs someone to be there for her.”

Neteyam rested his head on Y/N’s chest, her heartbeat settling, but only slightly. “What worries you? Why now?”

Y/N played with Neteyam’s hands, measuring the length from her wrist to the tip of their middle fingers. Neteyam grinned lightly at her childish toying. “You were right.”

“What do you mean?”

Y/N looked away from her reflection with a scowl. “People haven’t come back in the past. I’m just worried that’ll happen to me too.”

Neteyam sighed heavily through his nose, nodding with understanding. He wondered what his father was thinking his last night as a human. Knowing that everything you knew about yourself and your lifestyle would be forever and irreversibly changed. Knowing that it could kill him. There were no takebacks with this.

“I do not believe Eywa brought us together just to take you away from me,” Neteyam reassured.

Y/N dropped her hands to her side, her crying subsided. She leaned more into Neteyam’s body with a weak yawn, and he took that as his signal to head back to bed.

There was no way for Neteyam to reassure Y/N. There was nothing he could say or do to prove to her that she would be his no matter what happened. At the end of the day, it was them against the world.

When the two settled in bed, Neteyam tucked a loose strand of Y/N’s hair from her face, looking deep into her still somewhat teary eyes. She stared at him with an intensity that had his heart fluttering.

“Try and get some sleep,” he whispered, planting a featherlike kiss on her forehead. She says something that’s muffled by her pillow.

She does sleep that night.

Neteyam doesn’t, waiting for her to wake up crying again with his arms ready to reach out and cradle her.

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

“You’re telling me you’ve never danced before?”

“Of course I have,” Neteyam says, taking a quick huff from his mask before stretching by the window. The day was early, the sun just barely reaching past the mighty trees of Pandora, but high enough to shine through the lab.

Y/N rolled her eyes from her spot on the mattress. “Yeah, but not like that.” She points to the television, where a black and white film was playing. Neither of them was really watching it; the background audio was just an easy way to fix the thick tension and fear in the air. A human man and women stood underneath a lamp post in the pouring rain, hands interlocked and swaying to a light cello melody in the night.

Neteyam scratched the back of his neck, bringing her a small steaming portion of chowder. It was the only food Y/N could keep down lately, much to the girl’s distaste. She stuck her tongue out as he sat next to her, handing her the bowl. He nudged her, encouraging her to take a bite.

“Last time I have to eat this crap,” Y/N huffed, scooping herself a pitiful amount and trying her best not to make a crunchy face at the bland flavors. “No, but seriously. That’s just sad.”

“What? The food or my lack of human dance knowledge?”

“Both.”

Neteyam chuckled, focusing on the two Sky People. The television was fuzzy and jittered every few seconds, but he could made out the particular choreograph, gliding to the side, watching for each other’s shoes. The women’s head rested on her man’s shoulders, letting him hold one of her hands while the other rested on her back.

The Na’vi boy stood up, holding a hand out to Y/N. She sat back, tilting her head as he stepped in front of the screen.

“Dance with me.”

“What?” She giggled with a mouthful of chowder. Nevertheless, she set her bowl aside, taking his hand and standing up. Her legs gave out on her, and with a ‘Whoop!’, she came tumbling down, not before Neteyam studied her, helping her regain her balance. He looked at the T.V. once more, watching the pattern the actor’s set themselves on with their foot placement.

Neteyam lifted the girl off the ground, letting her wrap her arms as tight as she could around his neck as he set his arms across her back. He took slow steps, feeling her feet brush against his knees with each step. Y/N sighed into Neteyam’s body, letting herself go limp in his hold.

God, he would miss this. Holding her close like this, her itty-bitty body against his large frame.

Y/N hummed along to the tune, a tune Neteyam was not yet familiar with. It wasn’t like any of the instruments they had back at home, nor was it as feverish or fast-paced. It made swaying to the song chords feel like floating in water. Effortless and natural. It soothed the young couple’s hearts.

Neteyam and Y/N kept this up even after the movie finished, when the main menu song would loop itself every twenty seconds. Eventually that shut itself off too, leaving the only sounds in the room being Neteyam’s light footsteps and the two’s rhythmed breathing.

Y/N tightened her hold around Neteyam. “You know I love you, right?”

Neteyam’s heart fluttered, and he could hear his tail tap against the mattress at he continued dancing. “Yes.”

“I just wanted to remind you.”

He pulled away from the girl, bending down to her level to cup her face in his hands. She looked unnervingly dull, trying her best to give him a smile but failing miserably.

“You’re going to be okay,” he reassured her (and himself). “I know it.”

All she could do was nod.  

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

The night had come.

Jake walked in front, forming a path for Neteyam as he carried Y/N bridal style close to his chest. She shyly kept her face hidden; her bare body being just barely covered up with vines from the woods. She was quiet the entire trip leaving the lab, through the Omaticaya village, and to the base of the Tree of Souls. Jake approached the roots of the grand tree first, carrying Y/N’s limp Avatar body in his own arms, gently placing the lifeless body on the ground.

He turned to his son with a firm nod, stepping aside as Mo’at came into view, watching Neteyam hesitantly set Y/N down. For a moment, she didn’t release her hold around his neck.

“Woah,” she whispered to herself, looking at the massive crowd behind Neteyam. The entire clan was sit cross crossed on the mossy landscape. Neteyam didn’t bother looking, prying her fingers apart and off of his back. She tried to sit up until Mo’at placed a light hand on her shoulder, a gentle demand to lay down. Neteyam watched fog begin to build up in her mask as she breaths became heavier and erratic.

He pet her hair, leaning close to her ear so that only she could hear him. “I love you so much Y/N. I am so proud of you.”

She chuckled nervously, reaching a trembling hand and grasping ahold oh his. He held her tiny hands in his large ones, holding them tight with a weak smile. He needed to be strong for her.

Strong heart.

No fear.

“You will sleep now,” Mo’at announced, and on cue, Y/N’s eyelids grew heavier. At first, she tried to fight it, but Neteyam cupped a hand to her cheek, still holding one of her hands in his.

“See you in a minute,” he promised.

It looked like Y/N wanted to say something to him, but she never got that chance before letting her eyes shut and her body fall asleep.

Neteyam held his breath now, allowing himself to succumb to the fears that he’d been trying to hide from Y/N for years now.

It was all in Eywa’s hands now.

“Ting mikun ayoheru rutze,” Mo’at began as The People swayed in unison. Everyone rested a hand on each other’s shoulders as the ground began pulsating to a beat, almost like a heartbeat.

“Srung si poeru, Ma Eywa,” the clan spoke together. The bioluminescent ground beneath them rippled to the base of the Spirit Tree. Spider watched from afar, as he was not allowed to partake in the sacred event, keeping to himself as she silently sent prayers for his sister.

Neteyam continued to kneel by her side, mumbling to Eywa as he wished for his lover to come back to him. He watched with teary eyes as both Y/n’s human and Avatar bodies lay unconscious. A lit of undergrowth rose from the ground, connecting to the back of both vessel’s necks.

To most all around him, Neteyam was extremely calm. Though Jake and Neytiri could see the boy’s face, and they too began to fear not only for Y/N but for their son.

They knew that, if he didn’t have Y/N, their son would be gone forever.

What if this was the last time he got to see her beautiful eyes?

What if he could never show her the true wonders of Pandora? Never see their secret world in the floating mountains, to show her how to fly her own Ikran, to never watch her eyes light up as she connected to the Tree of Souls for the first time.

He wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

And Neytiri understood every single thing he was feeling.

“Pori tireati, munge mí ngai” Mo’at continued, waving her hands over Y/N’s human body and dancing them to the Avatar body a few steps to the left.

The clan continued to repeat themselves, much louder this time in hopes their words could be heard by their goddess. “Srung si poeru, Ma Eywa!”

Netyeam could feel himself breaking out in a nervous sweat, tightening his grip on her hand when he felt her fingers twitch ever so slightly.

“Ulte ting ayoer ni’eyng ngeyä ya! Tiviran po ayoekip! NA NA’VIYÄ HAPXI!” Neteyam’s grandmother stood over Y/N’s still Avatar body. Neteyam rested his forehead on the small hand he held, forcing his eyes closed in hopes of calming his pounding heartbeat.

Mo’at’s eyes rolled into the back of her head as she lowered his voice, “Eo Eywa oe’ia. Eo Eywa oe’ia. Eo Eywa oe’ia.”

“Come on Y/N,” he whined gently. “Come back to me.”

He felt her hand go slack under his grip. He straightened his back, snapping his eyes shut. He saw how her chest stilled and the muscles in her body relaxed completely. Under less tense circumstances, he would’ve melted at how peaceful and innocent she looked.

But he wanted nothing more for her to wake up.

He shot a panicked face to Mo’at, who instantly snapped out of her trance, directing her calls of action to the clan before her, “Lu hasey!”

It was done.

All he could do was wait.

Jake was up in an instant, followed quickly by Neytiri, who placed a supportive hand on his shoulder. She felt like this was a sick joke, watching her son in the same stop she was all those years ago when it was her love. Everyone watched as the young to-be Olo’eyktan remove the human girl’s breathing mask, the seal going off with a sharp hiss and placing it aside. He connected his forehead to hers, already feeling how clammy her skin was. He placed his free hand on her face, a hand that was the size of her entire head.

Jake watched his eldest son give one last squeeze to Y/N’s hand before moving to the Avatar body on his left, positioning himself in the same spot next to her, reaching for a much larger, blue hand. It fell limp in his hold.

This was the first time he’d seen her Avatar body so close. His heart settled slightly when he saw the mole that had made if from her human body to her Avatar body. He placed a kiss on one of her cheeks, tilting his head as tears began to build in his eyes again. It blurred his vision, and he didn’t care that his family could now see that.

“Hey,” Neteyam spoke to the girl that couldn’t hear him. “Come back to me, Y/N. Everybody wants to meet you.”

Neytiri smiled at the boy’s words, beginning to hope herself to the new member to the clan to wake up.

Jake knew of the debilitating journey that was passing through the eyes of Eywa, but he would be there to welcome you with open arms, when you were ready.

And, after a few more minutes, it happened.

Neteyam could feel her hand twitch in his.

She let out a light moan as her eyes moved underneath her eyelids.

Then they opened.

It wasn’t the traditional Na’vi yellow or tawny. No, they were hers. He sent a silent thanks to Norm and Max for letting her keep another part of her past body. It was the same sparkling E/C she’d always had, and Neteyam couldn’t hide the light chuckle as he watched her eyes lazily wonder around her surroundings. She wiggled her feet and yawned, looking at her boyfriend.

“I told you everything would be okay,” Neteyam smiled.

Y/N’s eyebrows scrunched together as she slowly moved her head to look around. Neteyam’s heart skipped a beat; had she forgotten where she was? Who she was?

Y/N took a deep breath, but immediately, stopped, her eyes widening in a fierce panic as she slapped her hands to cover her nose and mouth.

Neteyam shook his head, trying ot take her hands away from her face. “Hey her hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. Breath.”

She shook her head, her eyes meeting the blue skin of his hands… or, her hands. She blinked once twice, three times, before pulling her hands away from her mouth. She gasped as she realized the large blue skin was now on her, apart of her, forever and always. Her mouth sat ajar, and Neteyam wasn’t sure what to do.

Jake could sense the nervous energy from his son, so he stepped closer. He crouched down next to his eldest son, giving a reassuring nod.

“How do you feel,” he asked.

Y/N looked into his eyes. They looked soft and inviting, and she looked over at Neytiri, she continued to receive welcoming smiles.

Though rumbly, Y/N gave him a light “I feel weird,”, resulting in a gentle laugh from both Jake and Neytiri.

Neteyam leaned his forehead against hers, each closing their eyes. She could feel his warm breath on her face, letting herself sink into his touch. “I’m so proud of you,” he told her.

That night, the Omaticaya people celebrated. They had a feast, crafting mouthwatering dishes for their blessing from Eywa herself, dancing to traditional songs into the night. Tuk dragged the girl around, showing her off to the tribe and bragging about how she’d braded the new clam mate’s hair shortly after her ceremony (the braids were terribly uneven, so Neytiri had to pull her aside and do them when her daughter wasn’t looking). Kiri and Lo’ak bickered when they tried to find the ‘perfect’ hammock for her to sleep in, but Neteyam silently know that they’d be sharing a space tonight. Spider couldn’t stay long, but he congratulated his older sister on her successful soul transfer.

Towards the end of the celebration, Neteyam and Y/N slipped away from the shriveling crowd.  They raced into the night sky, replaying the same motions that occurred all those years ago.

“God, I’ll never get over this,” Y/N huffed from behind Neteyam, clinging to him with a vice-like grip.

Neteyam shrugged teasingly. “You’re going to have to soon. You will need to get your own Ikran now that you’re Na’vi.”

“Why would I do that when I have you to fly me around?”

He turned to shot a playful grin, but caught himself when he looked into her eyes. Her braids thrashed in the wind as she kept her eyes sealed shut, though creasing her eyebrows at the sudden shift in Neteyam’s posture. He finally got a good look at her freckles, which were lighting up the night. The pattern rested mostly on her forehead, with only a few scattered along the bridge of her nose. There were even less on her cheeks, but her bright eyes made up for that. They were new and different compared to the standard Na’vi, and it made the girl all the more precious to Neteyam.

They landed gently on their secret floating rock, Neteyam hopping off first, reaching out to Y/N, only for her to scoot off the flying creature and stepping onto the ground by herself. She huffed before stretching, letting her bare feet graze the soft landscape. He watched her, only just noticing how he barely had to look down at her. Just this morning he was about at his hip height wise, but now he was maybe half a foot taller.

She met his eyes with a quick smile before taking the lead. “Man, I’ve missed this place.”

Neteyam hummed in agreement. He would never admit it, but he hadn’t returned since she’d gotten sick. It just didn’t sit right with him to savor this wondrous getaway while his other half was withering away, curled in pain in her dark and lonely bedroom.

She ducked over hanging branched, skipping through the feet as the world lit up with each step. She lightly brushed her fingertips against dense foliage, getting used to the way her arms stretched further than she was used to. She looked back at Neteyam with a wide smile, her shiny white fangs revealing themselves.

He quickened his pace, grabbing a hold of her tail and lightly tugging it, causing the girl to stop in her place and instinctively slap he boy on the arm. Neteyam gave a face pouty face, Y/N sticking his tongue out as she dashed into the night. For only being in her new body for a few hours, she was quickly getting the hand of it. Even Jake commented on it earlier, watching Lo’ak and her chase each other through the campgrounds like raging lunatics.

“Jesus, and I thought Lo’ak’s energy was enough,” he joked as he walked to bed with his mate. “That boy’s got his hands full with that one.”

When Y/N’s lungs could no longer keep up, she hunched over a familiar pond, resting her hands on her knees as she took deep breaths. Neteyam, who would run for many more miles, stopped at her side, grinning at the already exhausted girl.

“My feet hurt,” she spoke in between breaths.

“Your body is still like a baby. You need to take it easy.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, straightening herself out. She collected her breathing with a weak chuckle, feeling her heartbeat relax.

But it quickly sped up again. The deep intensity in Neteyam’s narrowed eyes made the air feel thicker. He moved closer, their chests almost brushing against each other as she planted both of his hands on her waist. She reached around him, putting her head on his chest. His heartbeat was going the same speed at hers.

“Y/N,” he whispered her name like it was a secret. Her knees practically went weak from underneath her.

“Neteyam.”

Then… she started swaying?

She moved her head up, forgetting how much taller she was now and almost whacking his chin, His freckles doing a terrible job at hiding the light blush developing up his neck and to his cheeks. Y/N used every fiber in her body to lock her eyes on his mesmerizing eyes and not down at his lips, which were slightly agape.

The two began stepping every few seconds, Y/N still unsure of what was happening.

Neteyam’s chest rumbled against Y/N as he began humming a tune, and then it hit her like a train.

It was the same song from the movie this morning. Of the two people slow dancing into the night, bathed in light as they embraced in one of the most intimate forms of love.

Y/N gave Neteyam a goofy, toothy grin, letting herself pick up on the tune. She accidentally stepped on the taller man’s toes with a quick apology, which he didn’t even adnowledge. He removed one hand from her hip, placing a tender brush of his palm against her cheek. The two stared at each other, a newfound appreciation and respect for one another.

After all they’d been through, they finally made it.

After many nights of tears, pain, uncertainty, the two young Na’vi never crumbled under pressure.

They two could now live comfortably as one, just as Eywa had planned all along.

Neteyam planted a soft kiss on Y/N’s lips. It was delicate, like an insect’s wings, and they sat there just long enough to feel her warm skin against his. Between the two, kissing was their way of showing gratitude, respect, appreciation. From light pecks on the forehead every morning to more intense, intimate touching, the vulnerability the two shared with each other was a sensuous joining of souls, regardless of which body they housed.

Y/N pulled away first, flashing an innocent smile with wide eyes. “Oel ngati kameie, Neteyam.”

He breathed out, resting his forehead against hers as they continued swaying in a sloppy rhythm. The Pandorian wildlife was their personal symphony, playing the two lovebirds a one-of-a-kind tune. He rested his hands behind her back, just under her braided queue.

For the first night in years, Neteyam could finally breathe. Here, in this moment, on this perfect night, he had the most incredible women in his arms. He though about this night for many, many eclipses, wondering if they’d even make it this far. There were too many nights where he couldn’t sleep, only focusing on the frail human girl’s lumber some breathing. For the longest time, she couldn’t even walk out of her room without stopping to breathe, leaning against the doorframe as Neteyam rushed to her side to return her back to bed.

But now, she was here, standing on her own two feet, in this body much stronger than she ever was. She took in the air around her with no effort, no more tears of pain or fear of not waking up to see the next day. She was here, she was beautiful, she was alive. With him.

And he would make sure to keep it that way for as long as they lived.

“Oel ngati kameie, Y/N.”

(Bellow are the individuals that requested to be tagged when this finale released. Thanks guys!!)

@y2kakyo @iloveavatar @fangirl-2610 @nneteyam @perfectprofessorloverapricot @sassy-persona @wren9fvlcver @answer-the-sirens @liltjr @ntyilh @in-luvais @hydriko @doyouevenlovemeworld @irissfoot @forassgard @tsibba01 @anstark @lazyladybug18 @laurens0 @rosie-186 @O-tatiana-0 @kyleimd @keneanna266 @fangirl-2610 @casedoina @wheremygorliesat @mata0-Omata @kaite-tibo @persondoingstuff @yanitazai @erikaar @ethaiper

#avatar #avatar 2 #avatar fandom #avatar fanfiction #avatar movie #avatar the way of water #avatar twow #fanfic #fanfiction #jake sully #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x you #neteyam #neteyam x reader #Mae-is-crazy #tiny hands

[marvelmymarvel]

Revivals and Regrets

Madara Uchiha x Senju!Reader

Synopsis: With all of the Hokage's resurrected to help fight against the evils of Madara and Obito Uchiha, the oldest Senju has a brilliant idea to deal with Madara - and it just so happens to be reviving you... Much to Tobirama's disapproval.

A/n: I have not seen the Fourth Ninja War arc so this is (most likely) NOT accurate. But enjoy it anyway ;)

Naruto Masterlist: Here

Like always, Madara's presence was an issue and Hashirama was beginning to see how screwed they all were if he wasn't taken care of soon. He glanced at Tobirama who snarled down at the way Madara slaughtered the ninjas one by one without breaking a sweat. He hated him so much... And that fact alone made Hashirama fear what he would say once he voiced his crazy idea.

"We should revive Y/n"

Tobirama's head snapped to his older brother. For a split second, his eyes held shock and fear, but it quickly morphed into hatred. It wasn't that he hated you; Hashirama knew that.

It was something much darker than that.

"Are you insane? Why in the world would we resurrect our little sister?!" Tobirama spit out, causing the group around them to stare in confusion at what was happening. The third Hokage, however, knew why the second was so angry. Except, it wasn't anger. Sure it sounded like anger and felt like anger, but it was one thing and one thing alone.

Regret.

Tobirarma deliberately drove Madara out of the village, breaking your poor, innocent heart. He believed you would get over it and find someone else to love, but what he didn't plan for was you running away. Upon hearing that you had left, Tobirarma sent ANBU officers after you. While he was worried they wouldn't find you, the second he laid eyes upon your dead body, he wished they hadn't found you at all.

He didn't sleep for months.

"Tobirama, I know you don't want to face her, but she's our only hope-"

Tobirama scoffed, eyes rolling as he looked back down to the ninja being massacred below. Upon seeing just how few men were left, his gaze softened. Face his worst fear? Or let everyone die? Tobirama's eyes fell to his feet as the tears bubbled along his lashline. "Tobirama"

"Fine. Revive her"

Silence filled the space around him, his chest growing tight as he realized what he had just permitted. He managed to avoid you in the afterlife but he wasn't going to be able to run from you here. He turned back to watch the fighting below, but his eyes slammed shut as Hashirama chanted the jutsu out into the night air. Maybe if he just kept his eyes closed he could ignore you.

That wouldn't work though, he knew that.

A piercing screech sounded out causing his plan of being unavailable emotionally to fly out the window. He chanced a glance behind him, eyes open and wide at what he saw. The shrill cry that snapped him out of it was indeed flying from your lips, and your pained face made him want to die a thousand deaths. When someone is resurrected, they have the same feelings as the moment they died. Meaning that if you died a painful death and were revived, you would immediately feel that pain upon resurrection.

It would go away, once you realized you were no longer in pain, but hearing the sound you would have made in your last moments on earth made Tobirama want to run for the hills.

Hashirama wrapped his arms around you, coos flying from his lips as he tried to ease you into the living world. Tobirama couldn't stop himself, his body turning fully to face you and your confused state. Tears were streaming down your face, hands grasping at your neck as you fought for air. Your killers had slit your throat, making the image before him sicker than it would have been if he was free from that knowledge.

He did this to you.

Tobirama watched cautiously as you slowly began to take in your surroundings and the way Hashirama was holding you - Hashirama was always a better brother to you than he was. Tobirarma didn't have many regrets in his life, but all of them related to you.

~Your POV~

Your eyes wandered, searching for something in the crowd. What was it that you needed? The one thing you thought of before you died... You wouldn't remember until you saw-

Your face visibly softened, eyes widening as you took a shaky step towards him - your white-haired brother that you had been avoiding in the afterlife out of fear that he hated you. "Tobi?" you whispered. You could tell he wasn't expecting this outcome, what with how his eyebrows shot up in shock. You opened your mouth to say something, but the commotion below finally hit your ears and quiet mind, oh... You were revived for a reason.

You took in a sharp inhale of breath eyes widening as you raced towards where Tobirama was standing, but your eyes were no longer on him. If you could have died again from happiness, you would have. "Madara!" you cried out, mouth curving up into a loving smile.

"That's why we revived you, Y/n... We need your help with him"

Your head shot back to Hashirama, who was just as bewildered as Tobirama was - he knew you'd be excited to see Madara again. However, he was still reeling over your reluctance to run to Tobirama. They couldn't deny it, though. If Madara wasn't there, you would have indeed run to your brother. "Y/n," the white-haired man breathed out shakily. Now that you were here before him, the regrets came flooding back in. He should have let you marry the Uchiha, should have let you run away with him. But he was selfish.

He was the cause of your death.

Your mouth slammed shut, a frown replacing your smile as you gazed at the white-haired man behind you. The both of you took a deep breath.

"I'm so sorry"

Both of your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the other's apology. Hashirama's eyes flicked between the two of you before he rolled them. Stepping forward, he placed his hands on both of your shoulders.

"I'll spell this out since we don't have time. Tobirama, Y/n is sorry for running away and disgracing the clan. Y/n, Tobirama is sorry for banishing Madara and being the cause of your death" The eldest hoped that the explanation would do, but it only seemed to have caused more confusion.

Silence filled the air before you both proclaimed: "You aren't a disgrace" and "You weren't the cause of my death" to each other. Hashirama sighed; if the two of you had just worked this out in the afterlife, they wouldn't be in this situation-

"We do not have time for this!!!"

Your eyes traveled to a blonde boy who couldn't have been older than 17. You scoffed playfully before throwing a look at the fourth Hokage, "Your kid, I presume?" He nodded sheepishly before scolding the teen, reminding him about who he was talking to. "He's got that Uzumaki fire... I will say..."

"HEY!"

"Enough." Hashirama hissed out, stopping Naruto's anger in its spot. Hashirama gripped your shoulder harder, "Can you help us stop him? I fear he will only listen to you... After all, all of this is for you."

Your eyebrows furrowed. "For me? I didn't ask for this". The silence that followed made your stomach flip.

"Madara... He was so heartbroken upon hearing of your death that he waged war on the village. He managed to rope Obito Uchiha into this war. Obito similarly lost the love of his life, so it was easy for Madara to manipulate him."

You let out a groan at Hashirama's words. Of course, this was for you. This was Madara, after all. "Did my fan come with me?" your question flew back towards the group near where you were resurrected. There was a commotion as they scrambled to look for it, but a sigh of relief fell from your lips when one yelled that your fan did indeed come with you.

You muttered a 'thanks' as the shinobi handed you the weapon. The same weapon you'd use when sparring with Madara. It was rather funny when you thought of it, your ninjutsu being wind and Madara's being fire. But it worked.

Depending on how you use it, it could extinguish the flames or intensify them. You two were a match made in heaven. A smile once more grazed your lips as you cracked your neck and jumped on the balls of your feet, trying to pump yourself up for what would surely be a heated exchange.

But it wouldn't be of malice. Oh no, this would be of love.

"Oh Gods, how I love him," you breathed out, heart hammering as you felt the love and ecstasy fill every crevice of your body. The shinobis were quiet around you, eyes widening as they took in your growing excitement to be reunited with him. Was this Uchiha such a bad guy? He was destroying the world in your name... He was destroying the world in the name of love. It was then, as they watched your lips part, that he wasn't an evil man.

He was a love-sick one.

"MADARA"

The fighting paused for a second, and your eyes locked with his. Everyone gasped as the air shifted from malevolence to adoration within seconds of the name leaving your lips. Not wanting to waste another moment, you hopped down from the cliff, heart soaring as you counted the seconds until you'd be in his arms again.

Madara raced towards you, no longer killing the shinobi that got in his way. Instead, he pushed them off. His only thought was you. He wanted you, no - NEEDED you.

And he is finally going to have you.

Your landing shook the ground; knees bent as you caught your breath. But you barely had a moment to stand fully as Madara swooped you into his embrace. The shinobi seemed to stop chasing him and stood confused at the soft display in front of them. Was this the same man they were fighting seconds ago? Were you his weak spot??

One shinobi moved, mind set on slaughtering you, but Madara shot a glare his way, daring him to proceed. The fear that coursed through him made him stop, and it finally clicked.

This was all for you.

Your hand forced Madara to look at you again, "No more fighting, I'm here now" Madara nodded at your words. The war now meant nothing to him, not with you being beside him again. "I can't stop Obito..." he whispered in slight shame. He hated disappointing you, and he was afraid that this would cause you to hate him, but the smile rising on your lips told him otherwise.

"They'll handle him... Why don't we go spar? We have a lot to catch up on... My love"

#madara uchiha imagine #madara uchiha imagines #madara uchiha x reader #tobirama senju #hashirama senju #naruto imagine #naruto imagines #naruto

[cod-dump]

Hello, Mike! Sad question incoming!

In the au where Nikolai is Soap’s bio dad, how would he react to his death?

First post mentioning Nik being Soap’s bio dad

———

Regret

———

He didn’t go with them when they went to spread his ashes in Scotland. He gave Price a part of them then took the rest, no one saying a word about him not being there.

Nik took them there, flew them out and told them about Soap’s favorite trail that they would go on when he was a kid. It was sad he couldn’t really name any current, something that would haunt him. Nik would have regret not doing more with his son outside of work. He should’ve been there more, tried to reach out sooner even though he believed his boy wanted nothing to do with him.

He will forever be haunted by that regret, that anger with himself for not doing more. But he couldn’t imagine the pain his mother was dealing with. Nik chose to be the one to tell her, even though it had been years since they last spoken in person. He felt so numb during it all as he went to her house — The house that Soap would grow up in without Nik being a part of it.

He knocked after a deep breath. Nik had to steel himself, ready for the onslaught of emotion that was to come from his ex-wife and the mother of his child. The look on her face when she opened the door and saw him was first shock, then anger, then confusion.

“Nikolai?”

“Linda.”

The crack in his voice made fear take over her features, every muscle visibly tensing as she gripped the door frame.

“What happened?”

Nik’s voice failed him for a moment, knowing what he was about to say will break them both. He hadn’t said it yet, out loud, of what happened to Soap, to their Johnny. He had heard it plenty of times before, almost immediately after it happened. He’s screamed, cried, raged — Every emotion he has felt. And now he’s settled at silent regret, and once he says it out loud, it’ll start all over again.

“Johnny’s dead.”

It came out blunter than what he intended but there is no gentle way to tell a mother her son is dead.

Linda stared at him without a change in her expression for five seconds before she started shaking her head.

“No… No-“

He couldn’t look at her, he felt a crushing weight shake him as he watched Linda’s world come crashing down under it. She clung to the door frame, chanting ‘no’ as tears began to stream down her face.

As expected, she turned to anger.

“You’re lying!”

“Linda-“

“He’s not- Why would you say that?! Do you hate me that much? To cause me that pain?!”

Nik said nothing more, he knew his voice would give out if he tried. He just listened to her yell, deny their son’s death, and cry. It was devastating watching the woman who he once loved, the woman who he had a child with, break. Her rage would melt away to pure devastation, and she would look him in the eyes and scream.

Then the door would slam, and Nik would be standing there alone. He didn’t even make it off the porch, failing onto the steps with a great heaviness before he broke. He didn’t scream like he did the first time, didn’t feel the intense overwhelming feeling of it all. He just cried, feeling like a true failure. A father who failed his child.

A child without parents has a name: Orphan. What is a parent who lost their child called? For Nik, no single word could ever describe what he was feeling, the hole in his heart that will never be fixed. There was no word for that. No word that truly showed that pain, no word that when spoken someone would understand it.

He would sit there, truly broken. And the door would open behind him, and Nik would tense as a hand lightly touches his shoulder. He turned his head to see Linda, drained of life. Her hand remained on his shoulder.

“I… please come inside.”

And he did.

Linda asked about what happened and they cried together. They were the same in that moment, they had both lost something irreplaceable. Johnny was gone and neither would ever be the same. He had expected her to bring up his career, repeat that old argument that he negatively influenced Soap and made him idolize the military and war. But she didn’t. She didn’t need to, Nik had thought it moments after he was sat down and told what happened.

That regret was a complex emotion. He didn’t just regret not being there for his son, he regretted him being the one putting him there. Johnny was so smart, Linda and Nik wanted him to go to college and get an engineering degree. Pursue that persistent fascination of the stars and space he had since he was a toddler. But Johnny didn’t do that, he wanted to be just like his dad.

Nik would forever have that hang over him, and Linda knew that.

Under Linda’s request they cremated him. Nik had made no objections, neither wanted to have a funeral. That is not how they wanted to remember their boy, cold and dead before them. She gave 141 some of his ashes, the rest was for her and Nik.

And as Price, Ghost, and Gaz made their way up that trail to those cliffs, Linda and Nik went elsewhere.

“He loved it here… told me he missed coming here with you.”

The house that Nik had owned when he still had split custody over Johnny was a place he had a hard time being. He never sold it or abandoned it. He maintained it but never lived there. He couldn’t, especially not now. That place was for him and his son. It was not a home without him.

The woods behind the house was Johnny’s playground, Nik would’ve bought him an entire forest to make him happy. But the fifteen acre patch of woodland was just enough for Johnny. The stream behind the house was one of his favorite places to go. He would try to catch fish or any small critter and bring them back to the house. It still flowed gently, even after all these years. The birds sang, the breeze was welcoming. It felt unfitting for the occasion.

“I remember that model boat I got him. Took us a couple weeks to build it and seal it… just so he could watch it flow down the stream.”

Linda sniffled before she reached into her bag and pulled out the small wooden vessel. It was more cardboard than wood, biodegradable. And it held what was left of Johnny.

“I was so mad when he came home for the school year with his new church pants torn…” Linda smiled sadly, looking at the tiny boat.

“I told him to change but he didn’t listen,” Nik spoke, smiling softly at the memory.

“He was a stubborn boy, nothing you could’ve done.”

Nik swallowed hard, looking away from the stream and into the trees.

“Nothing we could’ve done to change his mind,” Linda said softly.

Another breeze would sweep through the trees, birds singing another chorus of their wordless song and the stream would continue to flow and laugh. The world would continue spinning, no matter what.

Linda kneeled by the stream and Nik would follow. She would stare down at the boat before she placed it in the water. And the stream would take it. They watched it go down the stream, and for a moment Nik could see a boy racing alongside it, dirty pants and wild hair.

The stream would take him everywhere, just like the ocean and breeze will. He was always so free. And now he forever will be.

———

Is this canon to this au? Nah but it’s good writing practice. Little projection at the end

MWIII didn’t happen :)

#angst #call of duty #modern warfare #cod mwiii #modern warfare iii #cod nikolai #john soap mactavish #ask #thanks for the ask <3 #drabble #ficlet #nik is soap’s dad

[aphroditelovesu]

I saw that your putting out a choice for us to choose whether reader should be a virgin or not and it got me thinking of how Alexander would he care if reader was not a virgin I think he might be furious but I really don’t know about his personal choice of virgin or not, but if it was about his obsession I do think he would rather want her to be a virgin it to be to be the only one, but I still really don’t know, but in my opinion, he would be angry and pissed off I think. Maybe you could share some insights like a little hint of what his reaction would be

A little insight into how I think he yandere would react if she wasn't a virgin. Ah, this is not official from the fanfic, but just wanted to give you guys a treat and a warning about mild nsfw (not too descriptive):

~ written by: Lady L.

''Alexander kissed (Y/N)'s neck tenderly, enjoying the taste of her skin. He purred and lightly bit the skin, eliciting a sigh from his new wife.

The conqueror's callused hands touched her bare breasts, his fingers pinching the hardened nipples, maybe from the cold or the excitement, it didn't matter. He stopped kissing (Y/N)'s neck and kissed the neck of her breast, while still pinching her nipples lightly, enough to be pleasant and not painful.

''Hm…'' (Y/N) moaned softly, feeling her arousal building and her core throbbing from the lack of touch. It had been so long since she had been touched in such an intimate way. Her hands, free of calluses, stroked her husband's blond hair, urging him to continue to adore her body.

''Someone is in need of her husband, I see.'' He chuckled and stopped pinching her nipples, finally taking her left breast into his mouth. (Y/N) groaned and threw her head back. Alexander suckled her breast like a starving man, taking his time and nibbling lightly on the nipple, earning a grunt from his Queen.

''Fuck…'' (Y/N) cursed and bit her lip, looking at Alexander who was grabbing her breast. She brought her right hand to her neglected, sensitive breast, massaging it the way she liked.

Alexander let go of her breast, all wet with his saliva and licked his lips, frowning at the sight of (Y/N) touching her own breast. He pulled back a little from her warm body and glared at her with a slightly irritated expression.

''What are you doing?''

(Y/N) opened her eyes and blushed to see Alexander staring at her intently, his mismatched eyes filled with doubt. What was happening? She frowned and stopped touching her breast and placed both hands in her lap.

''What do you mean?'' She asked shyly, fearing one more outburst from him. She'd seen enough and she didn't want another one, not now, not in such an intimate moment.

''Why are you touching yourself there?''

(Y/N) was even more confused and blinked a few times to make sure she got it right. ''How so?''

Alexander huffed, getting irritated. ''I asked why you was touching your breast when only I can do it?''

''Oh... Is it because it makes me feel good.''

Alexander felt the colors in his face fade. He closed his eyes and crossed his arms, straightening his posture, imposing himself over her.

''Are you a maiden?''

''What?!'' The voice (Y/N) was loud and disbelieving.

''I'll ask just one more time, are you a maiden? Have you ever had carnal relations with another man?''

Her expression fell, turning pale. He had never asked this before, so why now? She cleared her throat and replied, ''Why are you asking me this now?''

''Because it's important.''

''If this is about me touching my breast-''

He cut her off abruptly, ''It's not. Now answers honestly. And don't lie, you know I hate lies.

(Y/N) frowned and took a deep breath, closing her eyes tightly. ''No. I am not a maiden, as you say.''

Alexander was silent for what seemed like hours. Finally daring to open her eyes, (Y/N) almost jumped when she saw her husband, such a strange word for her, standing in front of her and staring into her face with pure hatred.

The kind of hatred that had only been reserved for enemies.

She stifled a scream when Alexander suddenly climbed onto the bed and pushed her hard in it, getting on top of her. (Y/N) had never felt so much dread, so much fear, in one moment and the fact that she was in a more vulnerable state made her even more cornered.

''Alexander, I-''

She was interrupted once more.

''Who?''

She blinked back the tears of terror and looked away. Alexander grabbed her chin hard, forcing her to look at him.

''WHO?'' His voice was getting louder and louder it hurt her ears. (Y/N) gulped and finally replied,

''That was a long time ago... It doesn't matter.'' She whispered, tears finally falling from her eyes.

There was no way she could answer that question. In fact, it had been a few years ago and she had lost her virginity to her first boyfriend. It didn't matter anymore, it had happened and she didn't regret it, anyway, she was an adult woman and she had had an active sex life, like many of her time, but now, seeing her husband's look full of jealousy, she knew she should regret it.

''I'll ask just one more time, my love.'' He scoffed at the endearing nickname. ''Who was the bastard who deflowered my wife?!''

(Y/N) flinched at the tone and closed her eyes tightly. Seeing this, Alexander tried to calm down a little, but he couldn't. He needed to get out of there, needed to interrupt his wedding night, before he did something to his Queen he would regret.

He could draw screams of pleasure from her later. Now, he needed to calm down.

(Y/N) opened her eyes when Alexander got up and put on a fur coat, she stared at him confused.

Without looking at her, Alexander pulled on his boots and replied in a low, deadly tone, ''I'll cool off. But make no mistake, I'll be back to deal with you.''

(Y/N) huddled in the fur blankets as he walked out of his tent, leaving her alone and scared. She knew what chilling him meant and she felt sorry for the poor soul who was going to be tortured.

That thought made her wrap herself in the blanket as if it were a shield that protected her from everything and everyone. But most importantly, her husband.''

#reaction #yandere reaction #yandere history #yandere alexander the great #yandere alexander the great x reader #the lost queen #ask #alexander the great x reader

[eudaimonia83]

@cursebrkr posted about Elain giving Lucien a Solstice present and I was like, well hell, I’ve got a fic for that 🥰

A tiny but important piece of background: Elain recently read in a reference book about hyraeths, light-butterflies of the Autumn and Summer courts who migrate across the border and are tended by air sprites in their mating groves.

Enjoy! 😁

——————————

Elain blinked, and the last of the darkness slid away. Before her was the erstwhile prince of Autumn, his hair braided and smoothly caught back at the nape of his neck, a bright blue coat with subtle gold threading outlining his broad shoulders. Even dressed relatively modestly, he gleamed, all color and light, all mischief and elegant trickery. So Fae. Even now it sent ripples up her spine, sliding along the knife edge between fear of him and trust in him. His golden eye glinted as he returned Feyre’s smile. “I wouldn’t miss your birthday for all the stars in Velaris,” he said, his voice light and teasing. “Not that even you could give those away.”

“Don’t put it past me,” Feyre winked at him.

Lucien turned to Elain, whose voice was as firmly caught in her throat as a burr stuck in a glove. “Good evening, Lady,” he said, with a slight bow. She swallowed, and nodded.

His good eye narrowed, ever so slightly, taking her in at a quick glance. “Can I get you a drink?” he asked, swinging his eyes back to Feyre, and smiling disarmingly. “The pair of you aren’t doing the party any favors sitting here without partaking.”

Feyre protested, laughing, but Lucien cocked his head and stared at her in mock accusation until she relented with a roll of her eyes. “Very well then. A half glass of the gold wine.”

He moved off toward the bar cart with a smooth stride. Feyre’s gaze shifted to Elain, whose hands were clenched tightly in her lap. What had he seen?

Feyre leaned in and said, her eyes dancing, “That’s a magnificent color on him, don’t you agree?”

Elain blushed from her ears to her chest, hating her sister for being so open, so obvious, so damn gleeful. It was confusing enough to be around him without everyone watching and whispering. She was trying to figure out what to say when he returned, a glass in each hand. He handed the wine cup to Feyre, who thanked him and then slyly slid away; he pushed a highball glass into her hand as they found themselves alone.

“Drink it,” he murmured, almost inaudible over the chatter of the party. “You look like you’re about to faint.”

She clutched the glass hard and stared at him.

“It’s only water,” he said, a trifle defensive. “You should drink it. It’s too warm in here and you’re flushed.” He leaned forward against the chaise, body language utterly relaxed — no one watching from a distance would think he was talking about anything but pleasantries — but a strain in his voice belied all that as he asked, “Did you just have…a vision?”

She put the glass to her lips and drank, the cold of the water a welcome rush on her tongue. The shock of it loosened her voice. She tried to stay as calm as possible, to imitate his nonchalance. “How did you know?”

His smile was tight. Pained. “Even if I hadn’t felt it here…” he touched his chest lightly, over his heart — “your face would’ve given it away.”

“How?”

“You…” He flexed his fingers as if they hurt. “You looked the same as…as back then. When you were first Fae.” He threw a glance at the fireplace with its evergreen bower and gestured at it, maintaining the small talk facade with ease. “Are you well?”

Surprised, she couldn’t help but turn and look him full in the face. “I’m…”

He turned his head, quizzical, as she trailed off. “You’re not well?”

“No, I’m all right,” she said, hurriedly. “But — you don’t want to know what I saw?”

Everyone always pounced when they heard she’d had a vision, starving for details, most of which she could never recall. But his eyebrows twitched together and back apart as he wiped the concern from his face, turning it bland and calm. “Not if you don’t want to tell me.”

Elain drew in a deep breath and let it out in a trembling sigh that turned into a laugh, tremulous and true — and even a little sad, if she was honest. He cast his eyes down and smiled at his hands, folded on the back of the couch. “Don’t laugh at me, Lady.”

“But you’re ridiculous, my lord,” she said, her humor finally cresting over the prickle behind her eyes.

“Eternally,” he agreed.

She was about to give him a pert answer when she noticed Feyre, standing on the other side of the parlor and grinning like the Mad Cat in their childhood storybook. As their eyes locked, Feyre seized Mor’s arm, and the two of them turned away at the same moment, leaning their heads together. Lucien followed her gaze and then looked immediately away, back down at his hands. “Being watched all the time must get tedious,” he said. “No wonder you guard your secrets.”

“I have none of consequence,” she murmured.

“Why, Mother of Mercy. Now you’re even bringing in lies. How enchanting.” His foxlike grin split his face. She couldn’t control the lurch in her chest. “I like you deceitful, Blossom. It’s intriguing.”

“Well, everyone else has their secrets,” she fired at him. “Can’t I have any of my own?”

“Certainly,” he said. He seemed utterly earnest. “I only ask that you promise to share with me the ones you ask me to keep.”

She paled. Was he going to give her away? An outright lie to Cassian and Nesta, a lie of omission to Rhysand and Feyre…they’d have her under the daemati claws in no time…there would be no secrets then, no mind left, they’d have it all and she’d be a shell of herself…

He extended his hand in a calming motion, seeming to sense her unease. “Not just yet,” he murmured. “When you’re ready. Til you instruct it, I’ll keep my silence.”

She couldn’t think of what to say, but he straightened up and nodded as Rhysand approached. She froze, feeling the sly rake of his claws across her thoughts, and focused hard on the half-full drink in her hand.

“Lucien,” Rhys greeted him, smooth and effortless as always. “Thank you for coming.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Lucien replied, and Elain was strongly reminded of the dukes and earls at the dances back in the human lands; that charm, the utter facility of sliding from one interaction to another. “Happiest of birthdays to the High Lady.”

Rhys nodded, immense satisfaction on his face as his violet eyes scanned the merry gathering. Cassian had Nyx on his shoulders; Nesta’s hand rested protectively on Nyx’s leg to keep him from falling backwards. Azriel sat by the window, shadows romping with the fluttering faelights, while Mor and Feyre argued playfully over a chessboard. And Amren stood slightly apart from the rest, her pale eyes surveying keenly. Rhys asked, a trifle absently, “How do the human lands fare?”

Lucien sighed. “The lands are buried under snow, as the seasons dictate. The humans themselves are…suffering.”

Rhys raised his eyebrows. “The fall harvest was sufficient. Once the crops come in in spring…”

“…they will still be suffering,” Lucien interrupted. “They cannot eat their seed crops if they hope to lay in the fields for next season. And yet they cannot starve. Everything there is restless. People who are hungry and sick and neglected will not tolerate it for long.”

Elain’s insides squeezed in shock. No one interrupted the High Lord. Not even Feyre, who always gazed at him with pride. But even more critically, his words burrowed through her surprise: the humans were hungry and sick. That was her village. Her friends. Mayfer, the bustling harbor city where she’d visited to wait for her father’s ships. Her former home.

Lucien continued, “Jurian has purchased extra grain stores from the continent. And Vassa took in several hundred of the country folk who would have starved otherwise, onto Lord Nolan’s estate.”

“Generous of her,” Rhys remarked. He sounded ever so slightly bored, as his eyes followed Feyre’s every move.

“Just keeping body and soul together,” Lucien replied, and his tone dropped. His expression remained mild as Elain glanced between the two males. But without even knowing how she knew it, she thought he is angry, before remembering to keep her thoughts focused on her glass of water. Angry at Rhysand. For what?

It could be any number of things, a small voice inside her head hissed, and she felt a tiny stab of shame, then covered it with thinking of how cold the glass was in her hand, beading with condensation.

“Clearly. Come see me in the morning and give a full report,” Rhys said, calm and unconcerned. But his eyes flashed as they settled briefly upon Elain. “And get Elain another glass of water. She’s parched, aren’t you, little sister?” His smile was thin and cold, and he moved away, sleek as a shadow, to stand behind Feyre, one arm draped lazily over her shoulder, fiddling idly with the knobbly handwoven string that supported the gold medallion around her neck. She reached up to stroke his wrist; the very picture of domesticity. Elain was pleased to discover that she could in fact distract him with obvious surface thoughts, to misdirect from her deeper misgivings — since she had no expertise in mental shields, that could be a useful tactic, even if it was flimsy. But warring with her satisfaction came a deep unease.

“Presents!” Mor called out from close to the fireplace, dragging a sack of brightly wrapped gifts out of a pocket realm, and everyone clustered around the couch for the exchange. Elain knew this would dissolve into spoiling the baby, and she was right; everyone competed for the best present for Nyx, who was getting a bit tired and cranky, and wanted only to play with the bright ribbons on the packages. Everyone had gotten one another gifts, and everyone exclaimed over the silk scarves, the sharp knives, the antique astrolabe that Feyre had sourced from the Day Court for Rhys…but, Elain noticed again and again, no one had gotten any gifts for Lucien.

She stole another glance at Lucien. He seemed unperturbed, smiling at the chaos of wrapping paper and mirth as Cassian opened a leather satchel from Mor with a suggestive shape. He howled with laughter as she winked and told him with supreme innocence that it was for use in the annual snowball fight. Nesta rolled her eyes, and Cassian stuffed the satchel into her hands with a hooded glance. Elain felt curiously voyeuristic, as though she’d witnessed something she wasn’t supposed to see; a tiny window into a private moment between her sister and the powerful male she was mated to. She thought of the little blue box, sitting on the table in the next room, and longed for the right moment to give it to him. But it didn’t seem appropriate, not here; not with everyone watching. She didn’t dare to give everyone else a tiny window into what was — or perhaps wasn’t — between her and Lucien. Not when it would be giggled over and teased and demeaned.

She broke away a few minutes later to gather all her presents together; jasmine soap from Nesta, tulip bulbs from Feyre, a box of expensive spices from Rhys, and found him in the hallway pulling his cloak off the hook.

“You’re leaving?” she blurted out, before she could think of anything better to say.

He turned, masking his surprise with a wry grin. “Overstaying a welcome is poor etiquette, I’ve found.”

“You’re welcome here,” she insisted. Was it her imagination that his eyebrows twitched in denial?

“Thank you,” he said, “but I think this party is for family now. And I’m not that. Whatever else I may be.”

“But…” — was she really going to say it? Her stomach clenched. Brave. Be brave. “But…I haven’t given you your present yet.”

He froze, comically halfway through securing the cloak buttons. “My what?”

“Your — your present,” she stammered. Gods above, untie her tongue from these hopeless knots. “I’m sorry no one else got you anything. But I did.”

As soon as she said it, it sounded false. Petulant. Like she was seeking a compliment.

“What for?” he asked, and he sounded bemused enough that she laughed, short and quiet.

“For Solstice, silly,” she said. She beckoned him into the darkened sitting area, turning on the lamp as she did. He followed, wary, keeping his distance.

She pushed the box at him, unsure of how to proceed, but now committed to seeing it through. He stared at it as though it was a trick, or a bomb that would explode in his face if he touched it.

“But you didn’t need to get me anything,” he said.

“I — I know,” she said, and her courage flagged. The box sank an inch or two from where she’d held it out to him. “But I wanted to. You did save my life, remember, so it’s only fair that I thank you properly.” She squared her shoulders, and in an attempt at being merry, said with a faint smile, “And I have a few Solstices to catch up on with you.”

He still didn’t move.

“Take it.” She moved two steps closer, til the box was within reach of his hand.

And with a brief hesitation, he reached up and took the box from her, pulled the ribbon off it, and opened it.

Elain was consumed with the strangest twirling in her gut, a spiral of anxiety and excitement. Gods. Dear gods. It was stupid. So stupid. Unutterably stupid, in fact. How could she have thought that it would be enough, when she had never accepted his gifts with anything but awkwardness, that this tiny thing would say everything she wanted it to?

Her cheeks flamed. She wondered if this was what it was to slowly choke…to asphyxiate under the weight of her own mistakes.

And still it was quiet. Finally, desperately, she dragged her eyes up from where her fingers twisted with anxiety and —

— and he was looking at her, his face a mix of gratitude and grief. Their eyes locked so tightly she almost heard the click of a key.

“A hyraeth,” he murmured, pulling the little pin from the box. The jeweler had fashioned it from a single piece of bright yellow amber that caught the light like honey, but also gleamed like sunshine on water. Elain had selected it herself. The etchings on the edges were done in black lacquer, faceting the surface of the amber just like the patterns on butterflies’ wings. The jeweler had done a lovely job, but her stomach corkscrewed into her legs nonetheless. Did he not like it?

“Well, not a real one,” she said hurriedly. “Just their likeness in a pin for your hair, or your lapel. But I thought you might like it…they’re from the Autumn Court,” she blurted, realizing she was babbling and cursing herself roundly for it, trying to lower her voice, which - drown her in the damned cauldron - was so much louder than was necessary.

“I know,” he said. “From the Vilderavian Groves, at the borders of Summer.” His voice fractured ever so slightly at the edges.

Her eyes widened. “Have you seen it?”

“Yes,” he replied, and there was a reverence in his voice that rippled through her like wind through grass. “Long ago. Just once. They alight on the great trunks of the hemlock trees in a shimmering mass. An ocean of tiny wings, all amber and gold and black, whispering among the green foliage. It’s a special place; the only evergreen spot in Autumn. And the sight — the whole forest alive with trembling light — is magnificent. There’s nothing like it.”

She nodded. “It made me think…” She spread her hands in defeat. That home is a journey, rather than a place. That it might not obey borders or rules, but seek its own way across barriers. That to find it, to keep it, one can endure unimaginable toil and turmoil. That there is magic in the smallest things. “…that you might someday find a place for your heart to rest. Unfathomable as that may be now.”

She could have sworn there was a gleam in his eyes, just for a moment. He closed his hand over the little pin. “It’s beautiful,” he said, softly. And then, so gently that had she not been straining toward him with every cell of her treacherous body, she would not have heard him: “I think you’ve fathomed me quite well, Blossom. Thank you.”

His eyes slid down to her lips, so close…the moment brief and shimmering, a bubble on the wind…

…and it shattered, burst by the arrival of Nyx, screaming in uninhibited toddler glee as Cassian mock-chased him through the hallway and past the open doors. Lucien started and stepped back. Elain very nearly followed him, so strong was the pull of the bond’s tidal undertow in her ribs, but she knew it was too late. Misery blooming in her heart, she turned to go.

“Happy Solstice, Elain,” he murmured.

She looked back over her shoulder, and saw him standing in the pool of light from the lamp. In that moment, he seemed aglow himself somehow. A living sun.

“Happy Solstice, Lucien,” she replied; and, unbidden, unsought, a smile rose to her lips. He returned it, shyly — and low in her gut, an ember, dormant under the ash of everything that had happened, flickered into a tiny flame.

It was nothing, she told herself sternly as she climbed the stairs to her room. So small. But even a tiny light could bring a traveler safe home.

#acotar #elain archeron #fanfic #lucien vanserra #elucien #prythian #sjm critical #azriel #high lady feyre

[writingsofwesteros]

(p1) May I please ask for an Aemond imagine where yn Tyrell is his bethroed since they were kids(she's the only friend of his sister and that's one of the reasons he loves her) so when news of him losing one eye reach, she storms at the children(even Aegon) and, while the grown ups are afraid that his looks might wave her decision to marry,

AN: Hi, I hope you like it x

A DRAGON’S ROSE

As a small child, you had been fostered to the capital to be a lady in waiting for the royal children. It wasn’t long before a betrothal with the second son of the King was in place; not that you were both old enough to realise what it meant. Not that it mattered; the friendship between the both of you only grew.

Wherever you were; so was Aemond. It was why you had to watch him train just for the young Prince to stay still. Something both his mother and Ser Criston was thankful for. Sadly, you couldn’t be there for everything. It soon became evident as you slept through the moment that would change his life; forever.

“My Lady.” The soft voice of a servant came through the dark room as your eyes fluttered from sleep. A look of confusion came over your face as you moved to stand from the bed. Your pretty, light blue night gown flowing behind you. “What is wrong?” You couldn’t help but ask as you followed. “It’s Aemond.” The Servant only answered and the fear you felt moving through you was like no other. “What happened?” You asked again only to have no answer. “Tell me.” You were nearly begging now. The candles flickered as you rushed past and tried to focus. Your mind was racing with such thoughts.

The shouts of familiar voices only brought you more confusion as you moved into the crowded room. “Aemond.” You whispered out as you walked against the wall as his mother crowded him. He turned to you. Your eyes widened at the sight that stared back at. “Oh…” You nearly whimpered out.

Your eyes began to fill with tears that you fought hard against falling. You slowly stepped closer to him. “What happened?” You whispered and your hand gently moved to his cheek. A soft move that had him instantly leaning in. You moved to sit beside him and Aegon cuddled into your side.

You whispered sweet nothings into his ear as the adults around you both continued to argue. All you could concentrate on was him. You missed the worried look moving over Alicent’s face as she watched you both. “We should get you out of here.” You whispered into his ear and slowly helped him stand.

Aemond only nodded his head as you threw a glare to the children. “Pathetic.” You snarled at them. You continued to coddle Aemond throughout the walk back as you left the idiotic words behind you. The rage you felt had you holding onto the boy tighter as he hid into your neck some more.

“I can’t believe them.” You began to rage mostly to yourself as Aemond just enjoyed your presence. His mind was racing with his own thoughts as you tried to calm yourself. Gods, what if you hated him now? If you were disgusted? “Aemond..” You whispered out. His silence had you fearful.

“Are you in pain?” You nearly whimpered out as your eyes continued to move over him; looking Aemond over. “No..” He gently muttered out before chewing nervously onto his bottom lip. Your hand gently cupped his face. “You won't want me now.” The Prince whispered before moving from your embrace and disappearing down the corridor.

~

You had called after him but you were only left in silence and feeling completely confused. The night didn’t come easy to you either. You twist and turn as the storm rages as if echoing your emotions. The coldness continued to move through your bones even as the sun began to rise over the mountains.

All you wanted was to see him and that was exactly what you did. You were out of the room before the morning maids came in. “My Queen.” You softly whispered when you moved around a corner to see Alicent. Her eyes were watering and a moment of shock came over you. “Is he well?”

“He is beginning to heal.” You happily hummed at that as you played with your fingers once more. “I should go and see him.” You moved to step aside when Alicent gently reached to take your wrist. “Y/N…are you sure you still wish for this betrothal?” The Queen asked as gently as she could.

“I don’t understand…has he said something?” You began to babble now; your heart breaking at the mere thought. You grabbed at your own hands now as you tried to calm yourself. “No, no..of course not.” Alicent tried to comfort you. “He is mained. Forever.” Alicent gently informed you but you didn’t care.

“This does not matter to me. I do not care about his scars. He is handsome as he always has been.” You babbled out. “You can’t stop me from marrying him.” You whispered out; emotions running wild once more. Alicent only watched you go; softly smiling. Her son seemed to have a ferocious protector. Another one, it seemed.

“Aemond.” You called out. Your heart racing as you move through the corridors. The door of his room opened. The maester exited and if you weren’t so keen to see Aemond you would have started to question him. “Aemond.” You repeat yourself and only groans come your way. Your eyes quickly found him.

The sheets covered as he burrowed into the pillows to hide. “It’s just me.” You whispered out; your heart breaking at the sight. “Go away.” Aemond whispered out but you continued to walk closer. “No..” You gently moved to your knees. Your fingers tracing his cheek to brush a lock of his hair away.

He blinked his eye and looked at you. “Shh, it will be good.” You whispered sweet nothings down at him “No, you will leave me.” Aemond finally sobbed out his greatest fear. He clutched at the sheets. “I won’t leave you.” A flash of confusion moved through your face. Why did everyone keep saying that?

“Me and you are forever.” You whispered your promises and moved to embrace him. You burrowed into his neck. He softly whimpered and held you close. Your promises give him more comfort than the Maesters ever could. It was what he kept onto throughout the years as the dance began.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x Y/N #game of thrones imagine #request

[supercriminalbean]

Being forced to watch.

Luke Alvez x GN!Reader x Penelope Garcia

Day 5 alt 2 Being forced to watch. @whumpcember part two.

Warnings: killing, death, kidnapping, blood, knifes.

Summary: What happened when you awake confused and tied up, and you have the fate of two people you care for in your hands.

A/N: I apologise. Also this won't make sense without part two that will be posted tomorrow sorry it's rushed just finished work wrote this in 20 minutes lmao.

You don't know how you got here, strapped to a chair in a brightly lit room. You can hear people move around you but you can barely

see them. Your mind feels out of place, the last thing you rember is having dinner with the team then you were heading back to the car, then everything went dark. 

"We got you know (Y/n)" A dark voice chuckles at you as he walks into the view. You can't make out his face, the lights to bright for your stinging eyes, you blame the drugs they used in you. 

"Fuck you" Spitting directly at him as you pull at the restraints. He laughs at you weak attempts before smirking pulling out his knife. 

"Don't be like that baby, we are just starting to have fun"

"My team will find us" You his at him, watching the knife with fear.

"Oh you mean this team" His smirk grows as another light flashes on and you see behind him is another room, separated by a one way mirror. Your heart drops as you spot Luke tied to a chair, blood dripping down his face as another unsub stands behind him, a knife trailing down his arm. 

"NO, let him go" Snapping at him. No he can't have Luke, anyone but your Luke. 

"Oh I could, but what fun would that be" His chuckles sends shivers down your spine as he brings the knife to your cheek. "Tell me the information, and I'll let him live!" He demands furiously as he slices your cheek slightly. 

"What information?" You take a sharp breath as you watch the other guy slice into Lukes cheek aswell. 

"You know what I want!" He screams at you, fear and anxiety building inside you as you try an figure out who this guy is. 

"I  I I don't" You stumble over yours words as the other unsub shoves the knife into Lukes shoulder causing him to scream in pain. "No no stop it!" You yell at him, your arms shaking as you watch the blood drop down Lukes chest. 

"Tell me, or I'll kill him" He slaps you hard across the face before trailing the knife down your chest. 

"I can't, I don't know" You can't help but sob as he brings the knife up to Lukes neck. "No no no please stop it" Tears spill from your eyes as you watch him slice Luke neck a scream slips from you as the man laughs psychotically at you. 

~~~

The tears won't stop as you stare at his body, your own shaking uncontrollable from watching your boyfriend being murder Infront of you. The unsub grabs your face, gripping it tightly as he demands an answer over and over again. Soon you hear another scream, your eyes shoot to the other side of the room. Where the other unsub is dragging in Penelope, tears sliding down her own face as she looks at you in disgust. 

"You killed Luke, you should of told them" Her screams cut deep into you as you beg your heart to slow down. 

"N no no Pen I didn't..I don't know anything" you beg for her to understand, the room starts to spin. 

"Yes yes you do" Her heart wrenching sobs make your own fresh tears start to roll.

"I don't please... please"

"Liar, it should be you dead not Luke" 

"Now it will br you" The unsub laughs as he holds the gun tightly against Penelope's head. 

"No no no please please don't" Your sobbing uncontrollably again, unable to get any air in. "I don't know, I don't know" 

"I hate you" Penelope cries as she stares at you, her eyes fill of anger and disbelief.

"Liar!" The unsub screams before pulling the trigger an unearthly scream escaping you before it all goes dark.

~~~

Part two.

#criminal minds #Penelope Garcia #luke alvez #Penelope Garcia x reader #penelope garcia x gn!reader #penelope garcia one shot #luke Alvez one shot #luke alvez x reader #luke Alvez x gn!reader #whumpcember #whumpcember day 5 #whumpcember 2023

[niceboyeds]

just hold me (e.m.)

Eddie Munson x reader

summary: Eddie comforts you after your best friend moves out of town *fluffy fluff*

word count: 1.2k

a/n: one of my best friends lives over 4,000 miles away from me and she facetimed me today crying because she misses me. so now i’m sad and i miss her like crazy and i wrote this super fast before bed because i desperately need a hug.

nav

——————

“you’ll call me every week?”

“every Thursday at five o’clock.” your best friend promises, hugging you tightly as both of you try your hardest to push back tears.

“i can’t believe you’re leaving me.” you whisper, pulling away to hold her face in your hands. trying to show her you understand why she’s going. “but i’m so, so proud of you. i know you’re going to do great things.”

both of you collapse into each other’s arms for one final squeeze before she hops into her parent’s station wagon. she rolls down the window, holding out her hand for you to grab and you follow them down the driveway, only letting go when they turn into the road.

you can’t find the motivation to go back inside your house. instead you watch the car get smaller and smaller until you can’t see it anymore. then you’re just staring at nothing.

“come on baby. let’s go inside, yeah?” Eddie’s voice is soft and caring, knowing this is extremely difficult for you.

“okay” is all you can seem to say before trudging up the driveway and into your home. you immediately walk into your bedroom, crawling into your unmade bed and curling into a ball.

“do you need anything?”

“can you just hold me please?”

he does without a second thought. wrapping his arms around you, cradling your head with his hand as you weep into his chest. his other hand rubbing up and down your back gently.

he doesn’t once tell you that you’re being overdramatic. never saying “you’ll see her soon” or “you’ll talk to her next week”. he knows how hard this is for you, because he knows she’s your person.

he didn’t get it at first, confused with thinking he would be your person. but he quickly learned there is no way he could possibly replace her, and he never once took offense to it.

“it sucks, i know.” is all he can think of to say, not fully knowing how to make you happy in this situation.

“it sucks ass.” you sniffle, your breath shaky from crying.

“what can i do to cheer you up? i hate seeing you like this.”

“nothing. i’m just going to wallow in my sadness right here.”

“hm, i guess we can wallow for a bit.” he says, his arms still wrapped around you. “maybe a nap?” you nod as you cozy into him more, if that’s even possible.

the next couple of days are filled with nothing but sadness. no one prepares you for when your childhood best friend moves away from you. you feel like you’re missing a part of yourself, like there’s a hole in your heart.

this is worse than a breakup. a whole new kind of heartbreak. it might seem dramatic, it’s not like she’s dead. but the fear of not knowing when you’ll get to see her again, to hug her again, it’s so painful.

“are you still in the same position i left you in?” Eddie asks, walking through the door of your bedroom.

“maybe.”

“have you eaten?” he’s always so worried about you, making sure you are taking care of yourself. you consider lying, but he would see right through you.

“not since you made me yesterday.”

“okay, c’mon pumpkin.” he grabs your hand and slowly pulls you up, despite your groaning and attempt to hold yourself onto the mattress.

“maybe a shower will help? and a movie night?” he suggests, helping you stand from the bed and you let him win. you don’t have the energy to fight with him on it.

“okay. but if you’re making me get out of bed then i get to pick the movie.”

“naturally.” he kisses your forehead before you walk to the bathroom.

he was right, of course. the shower did help get you out of your funk. feeling clean and scrubbing the dried tears off your face made you feel better.

until you were brushing your hair, thinking about how every time you’d come out of the shower at a sleepover your best friend would always braid your hair. something you had never been able to master. she always did it best.

you walk out of the bathroom in a set of clean pajamas and make your way to Eddie. “aw sweetie, i thought it would help.” he frowns once he sees your tears.

“it did. i just want her to braid my hair.” you whisper, bringing your hands up to wipe your tears.

“i know, i’m so sorry.” he sighs, unsure how to further console you. all you do is curl up on the couch next to him, laying your head on his arm as you sniffle quietly.

“i ordered your favorite pizza…” you look up at him, trying your best to smile. 

“thank you.” he’s trying so hard to make you feel better, to help you. you hate that you’re being like this. “can you just hold me?” 

he moves his body slightly to hold you against him once again, rubbing your arm gently. slowly you start to feel better, thinking that soon enough you'll be back to normal.

Thursday at 4:59pm you wait by the phone, giddy with excitement to hear your best friend’s voice. 5 o’clock sharp you hear the ring and jump to grab it, feeling so relieved it’s her. the two of you have a lot to catch up on.

the conversation flies by, talking about her new job and weird roommate, and suddenly it’s been an hour. you both agree to talk again next week, saying another round of saddened goodbyes before hanging up the phone.

you’re proud of yourself for only crying a little bit, easily wiping away the few tears before your sweet boyfriend walks through the front door.

“hi!” he smiles, kicking off his shoes in the entryway.

“hi baby.” you smile back, trying your hardest not to be upset again.

“i know you probably just got off the phone, and i'm sure it was hard on you… but i have a surprise.”

“thank you, i really appreciate it.” you give him a kiss, truly grateful to have him to lean on. “i’m just gonna shower real quick.”

once again the shower distracts you, feeling refreshed and excited to spend the rest of the evening with your lovely boyfriend.

“okay what’s my surprise?” you tease, walking into the living room with your damp hair where he’s sitting on the couch.

“sit on the ground!” he sits up excitedly, patting the area of the couch between his calves to tell you he wants you to sit in front of him. you sit skeptically, surely he’s up to no good.

or so you thought, before he starts running his fingers through your hair and slicking it back. he starts following a pattern you know like the back of your hand.

he’s braiding your hair.

you let him finish in silence, smiling to yourself as he tightens the hair tie around the ends to keep it together. you immediately turn around to look at him.

“how did you—”

“i asked Max to teach me.”

you melt right there. this man has been nothing but supportive and loving for the past week and a half. doing everything in his power to make you smile.

“i don’t deserve you.” you whisper as you hug him, never wanting to let go. “i love you so much.”

as time goes by you’ve learned to come to terms of not seeing your best friend every day. and even though you still have rough days of missing her here and there, Eddie is right there to hold you and braid your hair.

#eddie x reader #stranger things #stranger things fluff #eddie stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things blurb #eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fics #eddie munson x reader

[riewritten]

hi love ur writing sm

can we get part 2 of erwin x marley reader ?

i got this req more than a month ago, and as much as i hate to admit it, i think this will get more than a part 2. oh my god. oh my GOD. i have nothing but my impulses to blame.

THE WORST KIND OF NOTHING

CHAPTERS: 2/10 (TENTATIVE) | READ CHAPTER 1 HERE

PAIRING: ERWIN SMITH & FEM!READER & ZEKE YEAGER

leaving the pairing ambiguous for now bc i honestly don't know what will happen

WORDS: 1.5k | AO3 | FANFICTION

TAGS: Manga S4 spoilers, Canon AU – The Attack on Liberio Failed, Violence, Psychological Warfare, Manipulation, Character Study, Enemies to ? heh... let us see

It’s as if you are born once again in a pristine body devoid of any memories.

Except that it wasn’t in any way pristine, nor were you a newly-born infant.

You are lying on a ruined land, rough ground forming blisters on your bare back. When you sat up, what daunted was a doomsday: a village piled with carcasses, full of dead bodies. You are the only one alive—no, you are the only one unbruised out of all that had died. You don’t remember anything.

It’s as if you are born once again in a pristine body devoid of any memories.

Except that it wasn’t in any way pristine, nor were you a newly-born infant.

You are nothing. In a vast space with nothing but carcasses, the only thing you have is a body, not even clothes that the corpses wear.

It is until a blonde man with a beard and glasses spoke from behind, “Aren’t you cold?” He knelt and wrapped you up with a thick white cloth. “That’ll do for now, would you mind? I can’t afford my soldiers blushing amidst this tragic scene.” It sounded like a joke — at least you had the baseline comprehension to understand so. “Yelena, it’s all clear!”

“Who are you?”

He put his hand on his chin as if to think about it, so lack of seriousness and urgency as if no one’s dead at all. His face soon changed when he laid his eyes on you again, “Shall we have a deal first?”

“Who are you?”

“Look at your surroundings. Do you have any idea what just happened?”

Roaming your eyes all over, your question really did change. You gulped as fear reckoned inside, “What happened?”

“You killed them. All of them.” And unlike his jokey tone, he scooted his face nearer to whisper with dead eyes, “And I could do the same to you right now with one wrong move.” If his goal was to intimidate, it sure did work; your primal urge to survive kicked in, proving a semblance of humanity in your empty vessel. “I won’t make things complicated. All I want is for you to accept my deal.”

You stared at him, blank and confused, and thus his face turned casual again.

“Don’t get too scared, though! I’ll give you the benefit of a decent life despite all the lives that you took from my men!”

That was the last ping for you to understand the gist of your disposition. He really wasn’t lying because lots of corpses are wearing the same uniform as him. Fear reeked further inside with nothing in mind but the primal desire to survive.

“What’s the deal all about?”

The question was followed by a painful injection shot on your nape. Zeke got a bit surprised but it was followed by a chuckle, “Don’t just strike from behind, Yelena.”

“You can save the talk for later, Zeke. We should neutralize her first. Who knows what she can do?”

You resisted out of impulse, but the said Yelena grabbed your head and shoved it at Zeke’s chest. You can almost feel your neck tear apart with the reeking pang of fluid. You can hear it gushing. You can feel how huge the needle is. You groaned and wiggled away, but Zeke caught you in his arms with soothing hums. It won’t take long, it won’t take long. There, there, young lady. You can do it.

When the fluid emptied, Yelena harshly dropped you and then tied your arms behind your back. The cloth fell off; she heeded it no mind. Zeke let out a light tsk, “Have some pity on her. Can’t you feel how cold the breeze is?” But then he got distracted by the blister on your stomach. “Oh, poor you. We have to treat this later on.”

“Quite unique that your eyes are not lurking around her boobs."

Zeke shook his head in dismay then nonchallantly wrapped you up with the cloth again, “That’s very untimely, Yelena.”

“Continue your talk. We’ll be waiting at the base."

You felt utterly dizzy. Your vision is wobbly and Zeke is multiplying kaleidoscopically. He knew it well hence he held onto your shoulders for support. “So speaking of the deal…”

“Deal…” you blankly muttered with the last bits of consciousness.

“There, there,” Zeke’s palm caught your cheek that was about to fall on the ground. “Be a good soldier by my side and you shall live that undeservingly decent life. That’s a bit generous offer, don’t you think?”

“H-huh…”

“Think about it, I couldn’t be so generous anymore if you were to turn me down. The least that I could do by then is make you choose how you want to die.” He tapped your cheek. “Hear me? Oh, don’t tell me you’re about to faint. You hadn’t even told me your name yet!”

“H…hah…”

When your consciousness fluttered away for good, you felt him catch you. The kaleidoscope roamed all over your vision until it was no more. His soothing voice slowly transitioned into tip taps of the water, and the reeking smell of corpses changed into a rusty chamber. When you opened your eyes again, what daunted is still a blonde, but it’s not Zeke anymore. 

“That’s quite rude, spacing out in the middle of a life-changing contract.” Erwin deadpanned.

“What?” roaming around the surroundings answered the prompt. You’re in a torture chamber and the Commander is forming up a shenanigan. “The deal, yeah, we’re talking about a deal.”

“A loyal wildcard that wouldn’t break for me in exchange for a decent life amidst the crimes you had done with my men — was my offer too much to handle for your consciousness to slip away? I thought it was a generous one.”

Oh, nothing had changed. From the first memory you ever had of this world up to your tied-up figure now, you still have nothing. Nothing but generous offers of blondes who would kill you in a snap for noncompliance. 

“What do you know about me? Let’s start from that before running through the deal.”

“You’re speaking as if I could offer you another choice.”

“I can’t deal with someone who doesn’t know the hell he is trying to pry in.”

The Commander nodded at the given point, impressed. Without further ado, he shoved the medical equipment away and pulled your chair so you’d hear properly the things he was about to say. “The mysterious massacre at the Marleyan port involving soldiers and citizens alike. I heard that caused an impediment with the Anti-Marleyan Volunteers and yet…” he tipped his head to the side, looking a bit too curious about the answer. You’re uncertain if he’s just messing around or he really doesn’t know. “It was reported that the instigator was safe kept by Zeke and masked as a newly recruited underling. Oh, if only there weren’t any witnesses.”

The Commander stood up and walked behind your back and — much to your uncomfortability — glazed his fingers on your nape. He lightly pressed on a spot in the middle; the jitters ran through your nerves, roaring your heartbeat louder. “And as we speak, serum fluid is running through your nerves. How cruel of him to put you on a leash without your consent.”

Your breathing went labored, hands went colder — this man really knows what he’s talking about; he very much knows the hell he is trying to pry in. Maybe—just maybe—he even knows more than you.

His hands slid towards your shoulder next. He leaned his head, mouth nearer to your ear so you’d hear the first package of his deal, “Since it’ll be your first job under my command, I won’t impose much burden on your hands. All you have to do is prove that you really can be an unbreakable weapon for the Scouts.”

Despite the utter feeling of powerlessness, of lack of control, of lack of everything since the day you got “born,” you kept yourself intact. “How would I do that?” The question was muttered with no hint of bother, just as you vehemently attempted so.

“You just have to wait until he screams. If you turned into a titan, then my soldiers would release you of your despair. If not, then you don’t have to prove anything else — our deal officially starts by then.”

You just have to wait until he screams. If you turned into a titan, then my soldiers would release you of your despair.

If you’d be honest, your powerlessness includes ignorance. Not even you know the answer to that question — that’s what tied you to the sweet ruthless Zeke after all. 

However, despite the looming answers, you had quite a twisted wish.

You wish his scream would really turn you into a mindless monster, which Erwin’s crew could dispose of so quickly. The most pleasant deal you’ve gotten so far was his, after all. The pleasant deal of releasing you of your short-lived despair — of the lives you took, of the leash tied at you, of the shackles wrapping your hands behind your back.

The best deal you’ve got was with the Commander of this hell of an island.

With that in mind, you looked him in the eye and nodded, “Not like I have something else to lose.”

The Commander, now satisfied with the ordeal, offered you a cordial smile. “Worry not, I swear to treat you better than they did.”

🏷 @frenchdyer @watyousayin | SUBSCRIBE HERE

prev

WELP… that took quite a dark turn. for context of this AU, i’m exploring a rather dead theory about how ymir just altered the canon timeline so eren would have no choice but to do the rumbling! i don’t believe in that theory myself but for the sake of this fanfic, this will revolve in a setting where:

mikasa ANSWERED eren properly (you're not just a family something something) and so they ran away together. BUT DON'T worry, eren will still run behind the curtains. his characterization just wouldn't sit still, i know) and;

both armin and erwin lived

but why these two variables? why did ymir not alter the timeline in favor of the rumbling? that’s where you enter the picture. good luck!

ALSO, sharing this colossal titan!erwin smith. whew.

#erwin x reader #erwin x y/n #erwin x you #erwin imagines #erwin headcanons #commander erwin #erwin smith imagine #erwin smith x reader #erwin smith x you #erwin smith x y/n #erwin smith #erwin smith fanfiction #erwin smith imagines #erwin smith headcanons #aot erwin #shingeki no kyojin #aot fanfiction #aot x reader #erwin x reader canon au #rie answers

[youredoinghorriblesweetie]

Make Your Heart Beat Stronger - Part 3

Rotxo x Medic in Training!Metkayina!GN!Reader Angst

Description: Tsireya tries to help you make a plan, but the plan gets too real

Timeline: begins where part 2 left off, after explaining the situation to Tsireya

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Warnings: blood, falling asleep underwater, akula attack (basically a shark attack), dragging underwater, blood loss, angst, that’s all I think so lemme know if I missed anything

Word Count: 745

Extra note: your Ilu’s name is Marie, it translates to peaceful in Māori (google translate, please correct me if I’m wrong)

“Oh no, this is bad” Tsireya says with shocked eyes after you finish explaining. “You need to apologize.”

“I’ve been trying, Reya. I just can’t find him alone. He either isn’t around or he’s helping the new kids.” You groan, flopping on the ground. “Do you think he hates me?”

“Don’t say that! Rotxo doesn’t hate anyone, he’s too sweet for that.” She giggles at the last part, making you let out a little chuckle.

“You’re right, but I still need to fix this. Any ideas?” You mumble. Tsireya thinks hard, eyebrows furrowed before she speaks.

“I’ve got it! You said he’s avoiding you, right? So let’s just make it so he can’t leave” she says confidently.

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“An akula.” Tsireya tells you.

“ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?” You yell.

“Okay it sounds bad but-”

“OF COURSE IT SOUNDS BAD, IT IS BAD.” You look at her with wide eyes.

“HEAR ME OUT” she pleads. You huff, looking at her with a pout. “We make it seem like you are in danger, Rotxo would never leave someone in danger. I tell him to come rescue you and once he arrives, you tell him the truth” she whispers, looking around carefully as if Rotxo himself would pop out of hiding.

“Fine, when do we put this plan into action?” You ask, looking at her with a deadpan expression.

“Today. We’ll both swim out of the reef on our Ilu but I’ll rush back with Marie and send Rotxo your way.”

“Fine. Let’s get going” you give in, getting up to walk with her to the shore.

Arriving to the beach, you can’t see Rotxo anywhere.

“He’s helping sharpen the spears right now” Tsireya whispers, understanding your confused expression.

Nodding, you climb aboard your Ilu. Once you and Tsireya connect your queues, you take off. Once you arrive outside of the reef, Tsireya smiles at you as you climb off of Marie’s back.

“Please be gentle with her” you say, always so protective of Marie. She’s a kind beast, and you’ve loved her since you were a child. She would swim to your Marui every night before you went to bed and nuzzle your face, as if she were giving you goodnight kisses. She truly is your closest friend.

“I promise, I’ll make sure nobody touches her” Tsireya assures you. Letting out a shaky breath, you give Marie a quick peck to her forehead and wave goodbye. Watching Tsireya and Marie retreat, all you can do now is wait.

Your heart raced, the anticipation killing you. Your impatience would be the death of you. It’s only been a few minutes since Tsireya climbed on shore, but to you it felt like an eternity. The tension in the air thick from your mind racing, perhaps that’s why you didn’t notice sooner. A large shadow crept behind you in the water, but you had your back turned. You didn’t even notice until you felt it brush your leg.

Freezing in place, you watched as it swam around front of you. Your breath hitched, seeing a shadow over double your size. /Don’t move, don’t move. Maybe it’ll think you’re a rock/ you thought. *it was at this moment, you knew, you fucked up*

Dragging you under the water, your leg began to sear with pain. Blood flowing out surrounding you, you tried to scream. But no matter how hard you tried, nobody would hear you. Staring the creature dead in its eyes, you felt fear overload your body. /I can’t freeze, not now. I need to do something, anything/ you panicked. In a moment, you had your teeth latched onto the beasts head, right above the eye.

It stunned the akula long enough to rip your leg from its grasp, as you swam as fast as you could. But of course it wasn’t fast enough. The akula chased you, its tooth grazing your back and making a large but shallow cut. You couldn’t see anymore. Maybe it was the blood surrounding you in the water, maybe it was the fact that the blood was flowing out of your body, but regardless you couldn’t see anything.

Feeling dizzy, your eyes began to close. /don’t fall asleep you idiot/ you thought, trying to will yourself awake. But your eyes felt so heavy and your body felt weak. You finally felt someone grip your arm, dragging you to the surface. And then it all went dark.

——————————————————

Author’s Note: I am so sorry this part took a while- I genuinely just didn’t feel like writing 💀 but it’s done now!! 🫶 enjoy!! Also if I didn’t tag something then please let me know. Also my dog likes being a dick to me. If he wants to go outside, he’ll walk up in front of you and try to claw your mouth or throat and then pull you towards the door 😭 he’s a jerk, nobody even taught him this he just did it before and it worked

Tag list: @effervescentalessia @edasow @im-in-a-pansexual-panik

#rotxo x reader #rotxo fic #atwow rotxo #avatar rotxo #avatar the way of water #avatar angst #tsireya #avatar tsireya #atwow #atwow tsireya

[local-ragamuffin]

I don't want to be you anymore- a Doctor Who fic

Contains bigeneration, so I've marked this post as spoilers for The Giggle. Otherwise, no reference to the episode is made.

First, there was nothing. Then, suddenly, she felt herself being ripped from that nothing. A tug of the arm became a forceful yank, and suddenly there was color, sound, light, coherence, and

...Oh no. Oh no no no no no why is this happening what is happening no

She stares into the face of who she once was, her brain struggling to form rational thoughts.

Disgust and pain. Fear. Awareness. She struggles to get away from herself- no, from him. She refuses to be that anymore. Memories flood her mind and she hates all of them. They hurt her, mock her, fill her with dread, shame, guilt, make it stop make it stop- oh, fuck, and that damn NOISE, stop it stop it-

She finally breaks away and tumbles onto the ground, scrambling to get away from him. He gazes at her with confusion, shock, curiosity, and recognition. It sickens her. She shakes her head, covers her ears, anything to stop the noise, it's too loud it's too loud SHUT UP SHUT UP

"SHUT UP!! JUST- SHUT UP, GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME! YOU'RE MAKING IT LOUDER!"

But he isn't doing anything. He's just standing there, staring at what he perceives as his new self, or... another him.

The Master has survived his regeneration, but he has also split off into another being. Another him.

Why?

She gets to her feet with some difficulty, her balance shaking as she begins to walk away, then she begins to run, stumbling over her new feet, anything to get away from that- that monster she used to be. She didn't want to be that. She hated it. She hated that she hurt so many people, and never regretted it until now, her moment of creation. Why did she suddenly regret everything? Hate everything about what she was supposed to be?

No matter. She keeps running, running and running and running as fast as she can until she finds an empty room. She slams the door behind her and locks it, giving herself time to process what she is now.

The room is silent. Her head is not. She holds her head in her hands as if to keep it from splitting open. It hurts. The noise, the Drums, they hurt so much, she hates it, she wants it all to just stop and she's only existed for a few moments.

Something feels heavy in her pocket. She only just notices it. She pulls a silvery fob watch out of her- um- the pants she's wearing. She'll fix her appearance later. An idea infects her mind.

A way to escape, to be someone other than the tyrant, the broken mind who can only hurt others. A way to stop being him.

She closes her eyes and opens the watch.

"I don't want to be you anymore, Master. I reject you and your actions."

He's not in the room, he can't hear her, but she says it all the same.

-----------

When she next wakes up, she's in an alleyway with no memory of the Master, of what she rejected, of what she experienced.

She is human. She doesn't remember anything except the headache, the noise.

Probably just another migraine. She gets those all the time.

Now, what was her name, again?

#doctor who #bigeneration #the master #oc #doctor who oc #fanfic #doctor who fanfic #the giggle spoilers

[fanfoolishness]

Guide (Jedi: Survivor)

Cal struggles with painful flashbacks from the last time he rode in an escape pod, and tries to find a way out, back through his memories. Cal x PTSD, Order 66 flashbacks, Jedi: Survivor spoilers, angst, coping. Thank you to @stardustandash for the encouragement! And thanks to this scene for the subtle reminder that Cal's PTSD continues to affect him. ~1100 words.

-

Cal stared at the bay of escape pods, the area still pristine despite the fact the Lucrehulk’s wreck rested in the dankest swamp he’d ever encountered.  Rows of panels in sterile white and gray loomed ahead of him.  He took a deep breath.

Republic or Separatist, there were some ways that all Clone Wars ships looked the same.

“Safest way outta here,” said Bode, flashing a grin.  

Cal looked away.  “You sure about that?” His chest tightened, heart rate climbing steadily.  He tried to ignore the feeling.  You’re fine.  It’s fine.

“No,” Bode shrugged, looking calm and unflappable as ever.  But why shouldn’t he be?  The pods should clear them of the wreckage, get them back to town sooner and safer than trying to get Zee through the swamplands.  It was a good idea.  

So why did Cal feel like he was getting into a coffin?

“Okay then,” Cal said stiffly.  He paced back and forth in front of the pod door. It was a narrow space, but he rounded it three times before the door slid open.

Zee’s head swiveled back and forth between him and Bode.  “You seem nervous,” she said brightly, then turned to Bode. “I’m going with him.”

Damn it, Zee.

“Hop aboard, Zee,” Bode said, ushering her safely into the pod.  He gave Cal a funny look that broke into a smile.  “See you at the outpost.”

Cal nodded, swallowing.  “Yup, I’m coming.”

The open door yawned before him.  He climbed inside, smelling duraplast, transparisteel, stale mechanical air.   For a moment, he thought he caught a whiff of blaster scorch, but the pod was unblemished.  It had clearly never seen battle.  Not like --

He sank down onto the seat, knowing he had only a moment before launch.  BD-1 clambered up to the seat beside him, peering up at him in concern.  Funny.  Bode hadn’t seemed to notice he was off at all, but both the droids knew.  

Not that there was anything to know.  It was just old baggage, wasn’t it?  Nothing to be afraid of, or at least, that was what he kept trying to tell himself.

Cal pulled the restraints over his lap and buckled them, pressing back stiffly against the seat.  “I hate these things,” he admitted to BD.  He waited, tense.

The pod jerked heavily in its launch, and Cal’s fingers gripped the seat, tightening until they shook.  He breathed faster, sharp shallow breaths.  This is different.  This is Koboh.  We’re heading back to the outpost.  Nobody’s after us -- we’re safe -- I’m safe --

But the pod lurched and rumbled.  “I knew it,” he muttered, cold dread seeping into him.  The turbulence hurled him forward.  He was thrown back hard into his seat, slamming against the wall, head cracking against the hard surface.  He flung his arms up over his face to brace himself, screwing his eyes shut -- and he was thirteen again.  

It was too much.  Master Tapal’s powerful lightsaber, too big and heavy for Cal’s small hands.  Cal’s cheek and neck, throbbing from a blaster bolt; his lungs burning for air after the running, after the smoke.  His heart, beating frantic and painful in his chest -- the disbelief, the confusion, the fear --

I’m safe --

Master Tapal’s eyes clouded, forever opened -- his strong, brave, wise face slack in death -- and Cal sobbing like he had never wept before, the cries tearing themselves out of his chest and mouth with a violence that scared him --

I’m -- I’m --

The escape pod jolting and sputtering around them, slamming Cal into his master’s body -- he scrabbled for the Force, tried to hold onto it, to hold onto his master -- but the connection hurt like it never had before, a wound that filled him up, that threatened to tear him apart --

No --

And then, lost in the pain, he could hear her.  Cere’s voice, steady and calm, a different memory opening up and washing out the terror of that last, awful day.  

Cere, sitting on the bunk across from him in the Mantis, her face filled with compassion after waking him from a nightmare --

Cere reaching out, taking his trembling hands in hers, and the Force a shimmering bridge between them --

Cere, patient and gentle -- “Breathe, Cal.  Reach out, and find the Force.  Trust in it to guide you through.”

He breathed.  In, and out.  In.  And out.  Cere’s encouragement echoed in his head.

A memory is only that.  You are stronger than memory, Cal.  Let the Force guide you back to Now.  I know you can do this.

He reached for the Force, desperately and clumsily at first, but then the connection strengthened, smoothed, became as natural as breathing.  It was here, here in this escape pod fired from the Lucrehulk; it surrounded the pod and BD-1, reflected ripples and waves from the viscid bog; he sensed people down below, creatures stirring in the muck, plants clinging to the jutting rock, earthen spires and wafting winds.  It was here, in him, in the blood carried through his veins, nerves innervating muscle and flesh, bones keeping him braced in his seat, heart and mind filled with a fear that was slowly, slowly fading.  

Trust only in the Force.

Cal shakily lowered his arms, still working at keeping his breathing under control.  He looked around, half-dazed.  The pod shuddered to a stop around him, and BD beeped and burbled at him in concern.  

Cal blinked.  I’m here.  I’m safe.

The Force is with me.

He unbuckled his restraints, hands wavering only a little on the buckle.  He got to his feet unsteadily, and BD leaped to his shoulder, settling into his familiar spot.  Cal took a few steps, feeling slightly better with each one.  He slammed the hatch controls and the door opened.  

The familiar sight of the misty bog greeted him, and Cal inhaled, only grimacing slightly at its foul, fetid stench.  Right now, he’d take any smell over the stale air in the pod.

“Remind me to never do that again,” Cal said to BD, taking another deep breath.  

He brushed the hair out of his eyes and fixed his attention on a path out of the muck.  A few leaps here, a grapple there, a brief wade through the bog…  He had this.  At least here he’d have more control of his journey, propelled by the Force and by his own body.  A much better option.

He spared one last glance at the escape pod.  Thanks for getting me out of my head, Cere.  Maybe he’d tell her, next time he saw her on Jedha, how she’d helped him.  How her teachings had always helped him.  The gratitude settled into his chest, a far more welcome feeling than the fear that had crippled him a few moments earlier.

“You ready for a ride, Beedee?  Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Brrroop,” BD trilled, excited.  The little guy did love Cal’s tricks; he wondered if that daredevil nature was something that had always been in his programming, or if it was something BD had picked up from his time with Cal.  Cal smiled a little at the thought.  It was a good one.

Yeah.  He was okay.  

Cal flung himself forward into the air, and the Force was waiting for him.

#cal kestis #cal x ptsd #cere junda #jedi: survivor spoilers #jedi: survivor #jedi survivor spoilers #jedi survivor #my jedi fic #jedi: survivor fanfiction

[hederasgarden]

Your newest Vampire Miles piece is totally giving me Only Lovers Left Alive vibes. I don’t know if you’ve seen the movie, but basically it’s the grumpy sunshine trope for a pair of vampire lovers. The girl is all about embracing life and the guy is depressed with the burden of immortality.

Anyways if Miles turns her, I can totally see them hunting down the bad guys for breakfast, in a romantic way of course. Maybe she lures them into a dark alley and Miles pounces on them?

I have not seen that movie (Tom Hiddleston is not my cup of tea) but I think the reader would likely have some angsty/complicated feelings about her own turning even if she was happy to be with Miles forever.

This ask has given me lots to think about… Below the cut is some musings on how the reader's turning might happen (if it does) and a little drabble.

Pairing: Vampire!Miles Miller x F!Reader Word Count: 500 Rating: Mature, 18+ only. Discussions of blood, death, and supernatural themes. A/N: Here is part 1 and part 2 musings. Thank you @callsign-phoenix for looking this over.

I don't ever see Miles turning her himself. He'd never want to condemn her to live as a vampire and would probably never forgive himself for corrupting her soul. The only way it could happen is if Miles eventually sets her free to live a normal life, but still visits her on occasion. Maybe after a particularly intense night together he feeds her his blood to heal the bite mark/blood he took from her. Then, later on, she is killed in an accident and reborn.

Can you imagine her showing up confused and scared on Miles' doorstep? A little part of him would be so happy to have her forever, but he'd feel so guilty and hate himself for letting this happen. I also feel like he wouldn't want her to hunt but instead would bring blood home for her.

He opens the door and there you are, terrified and shaking. There is no warmth or heartbeat that he can sense but your fear is paramount, cloying, and thick. It wraps around him like a shroud.

"Miles. I'm so scared. What's happening?" You ask, grasping at his forearms. "I'm so hungry. Help me."

Horror, happiness, and guilt slide through him in quick succession as he stares at you. The beautiful dress you wear is streaked with mud and grave dirt. Your feet are bare. Whatever killed you must have happened days ago; you're freshly risen. He remembers the confusion and hunger from his own turning but Father Flynn had been there to guide him. You woke alone.

"It's alright," Miles soothes, pulling you to him.

You sigh and relax into his embrace. You're so cold, trembling all over. He knows the hunger you feel, and how insatiable the newly born are. You'll try to resist, too soft to kill but you won’t have a choice. The venom will turn you inside out until you know nothing but that white-hot desire for warmth and life.

"I'm going to help you," he promises you, pain and guilt lacing up his spine at the naked relief he sees on your face. You trust him because he is your sire, his blood is what turned you. What damned you.

"I'm hungry," you whisper, your beautiful eyes red and dark. "Help me."

“I’m going to help you,” Miles promises.

Your mouth parts, teeth elongating when he cups the back of your neck and guides you to his throat. Even though you have no need for air your chest rises and falls shallowly, a human impulse you haven’t yet shed. You shake your head but Miles knows what you need. It's futile to deny your nature. He forces you closer, holding you against him even as you struggle.

“Drink,” he pleads. He cannot stand to see you in pain when you so clearly are. Especially not when it’s within his power to ease your suffering.

“Miles…” Your voice sounds small and scared. He closes his eyes, hating himself even more for what he’s about to do.

“Drink.” The single word is low and powerful, pulling on the connection between a sire and child.

You cannot deny him and your body relaxes. He groans at the feel of your sharp little teeth in his throat. It feels electric and he tightens his hold on you, desire fanning out through his limbs. You dig your fingers into his shoulder, moaning and sucking greedily. Instinct has taken over. He lets you drink from him until your shaking has subsided and the red recedes from your eyes.

Gently, he wipes his blood from the corner of your mouth and stares at your face.

“It’s going to be okay,” he promises. “I’ll take care of you.”

Taglist:

@Whoredevores @nobody7102 @the-hottest-lieutenants @fantasias-creativebubble @obsessed-with-f1 @mistressslytherin @paintballkid711@marchingicenotes7 @Maxi-milf-dot-com @onebigfangirlworld @Mylittlecornerofshame @melancholyy-hilln@xydamcg @reaperintheroses @juniebugg @tinfoilbeth @ice-mans-world @adorephina @torus-flatass @thelifeofthelifeofme @bucketofapplesauce @fredweasleyscorpsebride @Missperfect222 @zombiedeathsworld @samwisebave @maria-allegra @bandagesandloveletters @milestomaverick @lluckpng @maxi-milf-dot-com @mad-girl-without-a-box @simpforbuckyb @bigassnocash @Jorocksposts @b-bradshaw @comingupwithacoolnameishard @ceilingfann

#vampire miles #miles miller x you #miles miller x reader #miles miller x female reader #miles miller fic #miles miller #bad times at the el royale fic

[neonghostlights]

Don't Fear The Reaper Ending #2

:Summary: Dani Crawford didn’t expect to spend her days wandering around Hawkins, Indiana as a ghost. She also didn’t expect her only chance at peace to come from local metalhead Eddie Munson. When he becomes all she can rely on in hopes of solving the cause of her demise, the lines between life and death become blurred.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x f!oc (OC is given a name but NO physical descriptions are used)

Warnings: Death, blood, Season 4 vol 2 violence, goodbyes, grief, bittersweet ending. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 1k

Series Masterlist

Ending #1 here

Dani sat beside Eddie's head as he laid on the cold, hard ground of the upside down. 

It wasn’t supposed to go this way. There had been a plan. And although the plan itself wasn’t perfect, it was supposed to go a lot better than this. 

He had made it halfway up the rope before Dani saw the determination in his eyes. He had cut it in swipe before she even had the chance to talk him out of it. 

And now she was sitting beside him while he bled out in Dustin's arms. Unable to even reach out and comfort him. 

He gave his goodbyes and words of advice to his friends before his eyes focused on Dani’s devastated face. He gave her a sweet, tearful smile. 

“I love you, Dani. I’m sorry I never said it sooner and I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help you cross over,” he coughed out weakly. 

Dustin stared down at him confused but didn’t interrupt. Noticing how his friend's gaze was trained into the blank space beside them. 

“I love you too, Eddie. You helped me more than you’ll ever know. You’re a hero,” Dani said softly, hand reaching out to rub his cheek but never touching his skin. 

More tears welled his eyes as he smiled widely at this. Despite his current state, he was still able to smile. She would give anything to feel him. How desperately she wanted to reach out and kiss him before he went. 

He opened his mouth to say something else but the words never came out. His breathing stuttered and stopped completely. One second he was there, so full of life and confessing his love, and the next second he was gone completely. Just like a flame snuffed out in the wind. 

Dustin grabbed Eddie's jacket, pulling him in closer as he sobbed into his chest. 

Dani sat and waited. Hoping that she would see him appear in front of her. But, of course, Eddie would have no reason to stick around and haunt the town that hated him. 

She watched the poor boy in front of her. No one that young should have to experience everything he had been through. 

“I’m so sorry, Dustin,” she whispered, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to hear her. 

Dani stayed with Dustin even after he made it out of the upside down. He sat on the mattress in Eddie’s living room with Eddie’s guitar pick necklace clasped tightly in his hand. 

She wanted to offer him comfort, some profound words to make the pain go away. But even if she could be heard she wouldn’t know exactly what she could say to fix this.

Steve, Nancy, and Robin finally made it back to the trailer, and by the looks on their faces it didn’t go well for them either. 

It only took one look at Dustin for Steve to rush to his side to comfort him as Dustin stumbled out what happened to Eddie in between his cries. 

She couldn’t stay in that trailer anymore. There was nothing keeping her there. Eddie was gone, and so was her only tie to this world. The only person she had ever loved, and she didn’t even have enough time. Fate was cruel.

How long would she be stuck in this awful eternity where the only thing she would have were the memories of him? 

She wished they had spent less time trying to help her cross over, and just more time being together. The universe knew what it was doing when she made Eddie Munson the only one that could see her. She would forever be grateful for even the small amount of time she had with him. 

Hopefully Eddie was enjoying his time on the other side. She hoped he missed her wherever he was. 

Steve ushered Dustin and the rest of the group out of the trailer with rushed words on having to check on Max, who seemed to have a close call herself but managed to pull through uninjured. 

Dani took one last glance around the messy trailer that had become her home over the last few weeks before she stepped outside into the night. 

Where would she go now? There was no reason to stay in Hawkins just to watch her dad drink himself to death. 

Dani scrunched her eyes closed, trying to think of where she wanted to go next. Technically, the opportunities were endless. But what would the point be if Eddie wasn’t there beside her, cracking jokes and finding the joy in everything. 

“What’s got you looking so down?”

Dani’s eyes popped open in surprise to find Eddie standing at the bottom of the trailer porch steps. Arms crossed with a grin on his face.

“Eddie?!” she choked out in disbelief. 

The blood she had just seen covering his body and face were gone. His ripped shirt was mended again. He looked just as he did before. 

Dani couldn’t stop herself as she ran down the trailer steps and crashed into his chest. Eddie quickly wrapped his arms around her and held her tight to him. Dani took a inhale, breathing in his scent. 

“I can finally feel you,” he murmured, squeezing her impossibly tighter. 

“I thought you were gone,” Dani sobbed while squishing into his chest. 

“I couldn’t leave without you,” he said while pulling her face up to look at him. He traced the features of her face with his fingers, memorizing how her skin felt. 

His eyes zeroed in on her mouth before he pressed his lips to hers in a deep kiss. Sparks flew underneath Dani’s closed eyelids. This is what she had been missing all of this time. She needed Eddie. 

“I love you,” he whispered as he pulled away and pressed his forehead to hers. 

“I love you too. Who knew death would make you such a romantic,” Dani laughed. 

He playfully shoved her shoulder before stepping back and holding out his hand. 

“Well, my lady, are you ready to go?” he said in a goofy voice. 

“I’ve never been more ready,” she said back, grasping his hand. 

He smiled down at her before giving the back of her hand a quick encouraging kiss.

Hand in hand, Dani and Eddie disappeared into the night.

The End

#eddie munson au #eddie munson x original female character #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson fanfic