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thebestofoneshots · 2 months

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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

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Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 10.7 K Warnings: None Prompt: Some of Peter's ideas have very convenient fundamentals... This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 33: More Than a Feeling

November 30th, 1976

You knocked on the door before you entered the class. Seraphina was standing beside her desk and nodded to let you in. You smiled and went straight to sit next to Remus. He had carried your bag and placed it on the seat next to his, to save a space for you. You smiled when you saw him and thanked him silently as Seraphina continued to talk.

She was going on about dark magic and how bIood is often involved in rituals of its kind “As you know, every living being has magic cursing through their system. But it’s not quite that it emanates from them but rather that you have the capacity to store it. Muggles don't have such an ability, which is why they cannot wield magic like we do. Some people can use this magic more than others, and some can learn to improve their capacity to store and to use the magic around them for spells.”

“Is this a first-year class?” A Hufflepuff girl scoffed behind you.

“And while this seems like basic knowledge, it goes a lot deeper than that, Miss Anderson. Those who wield magic for many years, start developing changes in their system. From simple things like being able to do wandless magic by developing their skill to use their body and hands to cast spells, to more elaborate ones, where you alter your bIood, or even your very soul, for example.”

There were whispers in the background after she said those words. Students knew how dangerous dark magic could be. They knew it could taint a soul and corrupt the finest of wizards. But most of them also knew that sometimes there was no other choice than to use them in self-defence. Especially with the whispers of the war, it was not unheard of that some wizards had used the unforgivables against deatheaters.

“In this class, we have seen hexes and curses that could protect you, we’ve talked about courses and magical contracts. Binding bonds and spells, etc. We’ve faced against some dangerous creatures and defeated them. We’ve duelled each other,” she threw you a look “and had some unfortunate accidents, but those are to be expected.”

She sighed, “Today we’ll be talking about an interesting but dangerous thing. BIood rituals. Anyone have any idea what I might be referring to?”

Lily raised her hand, “BIood rituals are the use of spells that require bIood, either a bIood sacrifice or just a few drops of someone’s bIood. They can be very dangerous and powerful, and if used to harm, they can even bind the person whose bIood has been used in the spell. They aren’t all dark magic, but they can be extremely dangerous.”

“Excellent, Miss Evans. 10 points for Gryffindor,” Seraphina said while Lily beamed. “Indeed, they can be extremely dangerous. But it isn’t dangerous all the time. In fact, some bIood magic is used in the simplest of things. For example on magical contracts.”

“Like the ones used in the past in the Triwizard Tournament,” Imogen said out loud.

“Indeed Miss Potts,” Seraphina said. “Your great-great-grandma was a participant, correct?”

“She won,” Imogen said proudly.

“That’s right, I apologise for my ignorance on the matter. But it is correct, to put their names in The Goblet of Fire the students had to give a drop of their bIood too, as a way to bind them, since once they were chosen there was no way out of the tournament.”

“An awful event if you ask me,” Lily whispered to Marlene, they were sitting right in front of you and Remus.

“I don’t know,” you said. “I think it was rather interesting, testing your magical skills against real but controlled threats, seems pretty cool to me.”

“Of course, you would say that,” Lily said as she shook her head.

“What? Why?” you asked with a small frown “I genuinely think that–”

“Because you tend to like dangerous things sweetheart,” Remus said as he gave you a look.

“Well that’s–”

“You play quidditch,” Marlene intervened, “And you are in the duelling club. You like danger, the adrenaline rush and all that.”

“You would love to be in the Triwizard tournament, wouldn’t you?” Lily added.

“Well I never said that but… I suppose I would try signing up for it.”

“There you go,” Lily said as she turned back around “It’s the kind of thing that would suck you in like nifflers drawn to shiny things.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t gotten in much more trouble so far,” Marlene added as she too turned around.

Remus chuckled and you threw him a look. “Or… she’s just really good at not getting caught.”

You scoffed, diverted at that and shoved him lightly. He just gave you a teasing smile in response. You’d realised Remus had gotten the habit of teasing you a lot more often the past few days. At least as much as you used to tease him.

After that, you turned back to look at Seraphina, who kept talking about contracts by bIood, secret keepers, the Fidelius Charm and other kinds of magical bonds. Remus on the other hand, hadn’t quite gone back to the class. His mind had gone off, thinking about Lily’s words, what they implied and what he eventually said: Because you tend to like dangerous things, sweetheart.

Is it possible that that is why she…

“…do you agree Mr. Lupin?” Seraphina asked startling Remus out of his thoughts.

He looked at her wide-eyed and turned his gaze to you, throwing you a pleading look. You bit your lip and grabbed your quill, scribbling something on your parchment as quickly as you could and moving it towards him as casually as possible.

Remus scanned over your paper, but you hadn’t exactly been very specific with it either. It only said “BIood Bonds Bad?”

Remus swallowed and turned back to Seraphina “Well, I think it’s not possible to have a certain yes or no opinion on the matter, it’s a matter of how you use them and for what. For example, if you’re using a bond to bind someone to you against their will, to make an imperious stronger or to curse their bIoodline then we can all agree they’re terrible. Dark wizard stuff even. But if you use bIood for a magical contract to make sure both parts will fulfil it, or to deepen your connection with someone or even to protect someone by sacrificing yourself, then the line becomes a lot more blurry.”

Seraphina seemed pleased by his answer and nodded “Brilliantly said, Mr. Lupin. That is indeed why we are taking this class, and why I consider it so important. I want you to pick a position, either for or against, and then you’re going to work in teams to form a debate in which you’ll go over the good and bad of using bIood magic.”

People started to split the classroom when Remus turned to you “Thanks,” he muttered.

You smiled and turned to him. “What’s got that pretty head of yours in the clouds, hm?” you asked. Not even realising you had casually called him pretty, perhaps the veritaserum wasn’t completely out of your system yet, prompting you to say a lot more than usual.

“I was thinking of someone.”

“Someone… And may I know who that was?”

“No.”

You pouted, “But I helped you.”

“Are you gonna charge in the favour?”

“No, but telling me would be the polite thing to do,” you said with a shrug.

He pulled his head to the side as he sucked in some air with a bit of a shrug. “You’re outta luck. I’m not feeling very polite today.”

You bit your lip at that, thinking of a clever retort when you felt two arms wrap around your waist from behind and pull you to the owner’s chest. You knew it was Sirius the moment you felt his hands on you, not because you were an expert on his hands, but because you could smell his cologne –or perhaps it was his shampoo or just him– the moment he stepped on your personal bubble.

He then dug his face into your neck, you saw Remus advert his gaze, and you could have considered it politeness but, there was something else, you frowned looking at Remus as your eyes narrowed, and then Sirius pressed his lips to your neck, on the exact same spot he had sucked a hickey the past week and the scarlet flags lurking on the sides of your mind were washed away in an instant. After all, you were probably just imagining things, right?

“Sirius, what are you…?” You asked and he pulled his head away from your neck and pecked your cheek, his movement had been so sudden that you were startled into silence.

“You looked so pretty from afar,” he admitted “don’t know why Moony insisted on sitting so far from me and James.”

“You were being loud, you would’ve brought us in and we would have lost more house points,” Remus responded simply. Of course, that wasn’t the reason. He was feeling a little more jealous than normal that day. Probably because you had gone and kissed Sirius on what he considered his time. On potions, you were his partner, not Sirius’.

Sirius pouted, his chin now resting on your shoulder as he looked at Moony. “So what are we, for or against?” he asked.

“Hm? We’re all gonna be on the same team?” you asked.

“Well duh, why do you think we’re here,” he said as he pointed at James and Peter.

“Well... I think against is too easy,” you said.

“What’s wrong with easy?” Peter asked.

“It’s boring,” Remus and you replied almost at the same time.

“Nerds,” Sirius said, chin still resting, you pushed your shoulder blades back to nudge him and he just smiled, “but the best nerds,” he added then.

You rolled your eyes. “So we’ll be for?” Lily asked, “I think it’s a great choice.”

“I agree,” James said a little too fast. Lily threw him a look and he just shrugged and gave her a wink.

“Well then for it is,” Marlene said. “This is our side of the classroom anyway, isn’t it?”

Lily nodded, and you all started to dig through your books to try and find arguments that would back you up on the debate. Learning a couple of interesting things about bIood magic with the books that Seraphina had borrowed, some of them from the restricted section. And while most things in those books were warnings about the ill use of this kind of magic, it did point out some of the uses they had for good.

The debate had gone quite fast. And while the other team had great points in their favour, in the end, all of you put up a great front against them. You thought it had been really fun, and Mary mentioned it was a very muggle way of teaching, and that she remembered having gone through a similar exercise at her elementary school before Hogwarts. Which had been rather interesting since according to your knowledge, Seraphina was a pureblood.

Saturday, December 4th, 1976

It had been a grueling day. Apparition had finally started to involve the physical act of apparating and it was exhausting. Professor Dumbledore had taken each student one by one on an apparition so that they got the feeling of it. Some of the students that had never done it before ended up puking all over the grass. Mary had excused herself to go to the infirmary to get headache pills. Lily had thrown herself into the grass and stared at the sky for several minutes while taking deep breaths.

Peter had to swallow his own puke, and this wasn’t the first time he’d ever apparated in his life. Remus had done quite well. He had appeared on the other side of the grass with a straight face and had walked over to you calmly.

“It wasn’t that bad,” he said as he approached you “I thought it’d be worse.”

You frowned at that, you didn’t remember your first time apparating, since it had been when you were a baby, but your mom would always tell the story that you cried and cried for hours after it. And then it took a small dose of calming draught to get you to sleep that night. The next time they did it, the result had been similar. Eventually, you got used to it. But by the reactions of the students that had never done it, you figured there was no possible way that it “wasn’t that bad” which is why there was only one answer to Remus’ reaction. He was used to a lot worse.

You almost wanted to hug him after it, but you knew he’d think it weird, and if he knew it was because you felt bad about his situation, he’d think you were pitying him. And Remus Lupin hated to be pitied. Even if it wasn’t pity what you felt, you just thought your friend was so brave, and he had gone through so much already. It's silly, you thought, but you still wanted to hug him.

Thankfully you were quickly distracted by Sirius who went next, coming back to you from the other side completely unaffected by it, exactly like James had. The latter boasting a little about how good he was, saying it had to do with how much quidditch he practised when, in reality, had a lot more to do with how many times Effy and Fleamont had apparated him.

When it was your turn you approached Professor Dumbledore calmly. He called you by your last name and extended his arm for you to hook yours onto. “I understand you have apparated before, have you not?” He asked calmly.

You nodded “Yes sir, my parents have been apparating me since I was very small.”

“Correct. Have you ever tried to do it on your own?”

You shook your head in response, and then frowned… “Well… there was one time in my previous school in which I attempted to do it with a friend. I was young and… well we splinched badly. She had the worst of it. I had to stay at the infirmary for almost 3 whole days. She stayed for the entire week. We got detention for it.”

Dumbledor raised an eyebrow at that, “And you haven’t tried again since?”

You shook your head. “We promised we would enrol in the class together, and then I moved… so suppose there wasn’t really a reason not to try again anymore but… I’ve been rather busy since I got here.”

“So I’ve heard,” he said with a nod, an almost imperceptible smile on his lips.

You gave him an awkward smile in return and he tilted his head as if asking if you were ready, to which you nodded. In no less than a second, he was apparating the two of you to the other side of the field.

Your stomach turned upside down when you were on the other side, not because of the apparition, but because of the memories brought along with it. One second you were in class, with your arm locked on Professor Dumbledore, the next you were in the forest, launched across Barty’s shoulder against your will.

The memories flooded your head without you having a say on it and the moment you landed on the other side you were tense, seething with anger, panic and helplessness. You blinked and tried to steady your breath, your eyes seeking something to anchor to, and you spotted Sirius, who was talking to James with a huge smile on his face.

Two people noticed your restlessness. First, it was Dumbledore, who had seen the scenes of the memory you had accidentally projected into his mind as he apparated the two of you. You had been studying occlumency the last few days and you had unwittingly transmitted all of it straight into him. He turned to you, noticing how much less relaxed your grip on his arm felt.

“Are you all right?” He asked calmly. You somehow managed to nod, your eyes still trying to focus on Sirius’ laugh instead of the memories that plagued your mind. But Dumbledore didn’t let go of you yet. “I would suggest you take the rest of the day off.”

“What?” You asked, focusing your eyes on the old teacher “I’m fine I–”

“You seem to have a lot on your mind…” He added with a courteous nod. You looked at him with eyes opened wide, breath hitching at your throat when you realised what you had done. “And you’ve also had a rough couple of days.”

You looked at him, a serious look on your face, as you focused on your thoughts, trying to conceal what had happened the rest of that night, and attempting to leave out details like the phase of the moon and when you saw Remus. It didn’t feel like Dumbledore was trying to pry further, but you still had to try.

“I’ll send a note to Silvanus excusing you from his class. You’ve been doing quite well on it regardless.”

“You don’t… Will you not ask what happened?” you asked as you turned to him, “Sir,” you added as an afterthought, trying to maintain your politeness.

Dumbledore cocked his head to the side, “If you wanted me to know, you would have come to me the day it happened and you wouldn’t be trying to conceal it. I trust in your judgement Miss (Y/LN). I’ve heard good things about you from more than one teacher.”

You swallowed. “Thank you,” you added with a courteous nod.

“Regardless, I do feel the need to tell you that if it ever happens again you shall come straight to me or to any other teacher to report it.”

“Of course, sir.” Frankly, you weren’t sure if you really meant that, but you said it regardless. He nodded one last time and allowed you to go.

The other person that noticed was way further from the two of you, he had also been talking to James when a familiar smell hit him. It was exactly the same way you smelled when you arrived at his door, barging it open with an iron poker in your hand. It was the smell of panic.

Remus turned to you in an instant, looking at the way you were desperately looking around the field until you focused on Sirius. He frowned, and then saw your entire interaction with Dumbledore, paying close attention and using his heightened senses to listen in to your conversation with the professor.

When you eventually walked back to your friends, you moved to stand in between him and Sirius. Neither James nor the other boy seemed to notice your discomfort, in fact, Remus wasn’t sure he would be able to acknowledge it if he hadn’t recognized the smell from that night. You had a cocky smile on your face and you were pretending to be as unaffected as Sirius and James had been. To anyone, you would look like you were perfectly fine, except for the haunting look in your eyes, perhaps. Remus wondered, if Sirius looked close enough, would he be able to notice too? As he stared at you laughing at some silly joke James had made about the weather, he started feeling the urge to hug you. Of course, he wouldn’t do it, he had no excuse, and you were dating Sirius, not that it was that hard to forget, you were almost always all over each other.

But he also knew that if he hugged you, you would know he noticed, and then you would think he was pitting you, and you hated to be pitied. But Remus did not pity you, no, he was absolutely stunned by how well you had played your feelings off, hiding them under your skin so skillfully that the only reason he noticed had been because he could still smell them.

Regardless, Remus Lupin didn’t hug you. He resisted the urge to place his hands around your face like he had done on the shack, or to bring you close to his chest like he had when he cuddled Vixen. He resisted because he knew you weren’t his to hug, but that didn’t stop him from inching closer to you. To stand so close it was almost ridiculous the way your shoulders would rub against his as you laughed, or pretended to laugh, or attempted to do it by drowning the memories with the sound of the other boys’ laughs. He wasn’t sure which of the three it was.

When the class was over, you told the boys you’d go make sure Lily and Mary were alright, that you would check on Mary at the infirmary with Mars after taking Lily to the room. James tried to offer himself for the job but Remus stopped him. He knew you were looking for a way out and into the comfortable silence of probably the common room or the library or somewhere.

Even if you were a lot more relaxed now, the smell lingered just a bit, like your emotions were threatening to get out. Remus wanted to go with you, to be there for you like you had been after all the moons since you met him. But he also understood the need for time alone and time to think, and there was something in your eyes that told him that that was exactly what you needed.

You waved the boys goodbye and walked alongside Marlene and Lily to the room. You both were holding the red-head, arms linked to each other as a way to help her keep balance.

“It feels like I’ve been on a boat for hours,” Lily complained.

You gave her a sympathetic look “I think I’ve got something for nausea on my cupboard,” you mentioned “Mom sent it over when she heard I fell off my broom.”

“But that… you didn’t fall because of nausea,” Marlene said with a frown.

“Yeah… I didn’t want to tell her I jumped off of it, to get the snitch,” you said with a grimace. Lily was looking between the two of you, trying to focus on the conversation as much as possible. But she was still dizzy.

Eventually, the three of you made it to the room, both you and Marlene helped Lily to the bed, and then shut the curtains to make her feel more comfortable. You were rummaging through your trunk, trying to find the potion when Marlene said she’d go check on Mary. In the end, you decided to split, Marlene would check on Mary while you stayed with Lily.

“You’re going to miss class,” Lily complained as you walked towards her with the potion finally in your hands. You gave her a look; as if she hadn’t missed a bunch of classes for you in the past week. She pouted in response “But who’s gonna give me their notes?”

You smiled as you sat on the bed and placed your hand on the back of her head and gently brought it forwards to make it easier for her to take the potion. “Remus will be in that class, we can get his notes.”

“With his handwriting?” Lily asked when she finished the potion.

You gave her a look “It’s not that bad!”

“When he charms it.”

“You’re exaggerating,” you told her as you passed a small candy to her, the nausea potion had always been a bit bitter.

She opened her mouth instead of taking it in her hands and you just placed it on the spot. “Is apparating always going to be this bad?” she asked you as she savoured the candy.

You shook your head “It gets better,” you promised “I’m sure you’ll be top of the class in no time.”

She almost snorted at that. “What are you planning to do?”

You shrugged in response, “Maybe I’ll read ahead,” you said, “or just some fiction.”

“I miss the telly,” she said with a pout. You smiled at that, while you did not have a television at home, you had encountered one on your walks through Muggle London and had been absolutely fascinated by it, the little screens showing moving pictures just like magical portraits but instead of having a defined person –or people– they had all sorts of stories on them. Including some of the movies you had seen in the cinema before.

“Want me to read you something?”

She gave you a look, and then extended her hand and passed a book over to you– a copy of “The Lord of the Rings”.

“Oh, I love these books!” You said with a smile.

“It’s my third time reading them actually,” she said “I read them before I came to Hogwarts and I always felt somehow connected to them,” She told you before she yawned. You smiled, realising the potion was already working its magic.

You flipped through the pages until you found her bookmarker. It was a small blue wildflower, already dry, you took it in your hands and eyed it carefully, Lily looked up at it sadly, “Sev gave it to me a while ago,” she said casually “I can’t bring myself to throw it away.”

You gave her a look and placed it back on the book, you didn’t exactly like Snape, and you knew why she was sad about it, but you also understood how hard it must have been for her, that her best friend changed so much that he turned against her. He had even called her a slur, a ridiculous word the pureblood assholes had invented, to say when they needed to feel superior.

Lily saw the way you carefully placed the flower near the back of the book and nodded as you started narrating from where she had left off. Frodo and Sam had just met Legolas when you heard some light snoring from the girl. You smiled and closed the book, taking a bookmarker of your own instead of using the flower again, that way when Lily opened the book, she wouldn’t have to think of Severus, even if the blue flower was still safely tucked in the back.

You gave the girl one last look, tucking in her bed sheets with a swish of your wand before walking back towards your own bed. You stayed there for a few minutes, taking your charms book and skimming through it before setting it on the side and taking an occlumency one instead. Nightshade had given it to you after you asked, and after the ridiculous way in which you had projected all your memories to Professor Dumbledore, you knew you had to continue studying it.

You looked at Lily one last time and decided a change of setting would be the best, especially since the low-lit space you had created for her comfort wasn’t helping the headache threatening to form as you continued attempting to read the book through squinted eyes. Besides, holding your wand up with Lumos had gotten annoying.

Exiting the room a few minutes later, you walked straight to the common room and plopped down on the sofa, your head towards the fire so you could properly read the pages. You had been so engrossed in the book, you didn’t hear the portrait open, and you certainly didn’t notice Sirius walking all the way towards you.

He looked at you as you read the book, moving his hands in the air to try and get your attention a couple of times, but when it proved to be useless, he decided to get your attention in a different way. He leaned closer to you and climbed on top of you, letting his head fall on your stomach as the rest of his body settled over yours. You moved the book to the side and gave him an incredulous look as he snuggled up against you.

“You’re heavy,” you said as you playfully attempted to push him off.

“Oh, so you only realise I’m here to try and kick me off?” he teased, looking up at you. “No hey Puppy how was class? Why do you look so tired? No, just ‘You’re heavy.’”

You giggled at his words, “How was class, Puppy?”

He hummed unsatisfied in response, easily hearing the sarcasm laced in your words “Awful. Kettleburn had us clean the pens of the Nifflers. They’re adorable until you have to clean things up and smell their stool.”

“And you’ve come to lay on top of me after that?” You asked as you tried to push him off again, but he just wrapped his arms around your torso tighter.

“Yes, because you smell nice,” he mumbled as he dug his head on the sweater you were wearing -Remus’ sweater-, “and James used a cleaning spell on me so don’t try to push me off again.”

“But you’re heavy,” you said with a small pout.

“Not true, you love it,” he said simply, refusing to move. You rolled your eyes but allowed him to stay. Even if Sirius was actually just slightly heavy, there was a part of you that enjoyed being cuddled by him like this a little too much. And whatever spell James had used was perfect, Sirius smelled like nothing but himself. A smell you already found intoxicating in and of itself. You sighed and took the book again. “Wait, really?”

“What?” You asked as you moved the book to the side to look at his face.

“Your gorgeous boyfriend is right on top of you, pretty much begging for a cuddle and you prefer reading… What is that?” he asked as he pulled the book from your hands to read the title “Occlumency?! Really? Is occlumency more interesting than me?” He added as he threw the book back, instead of falling straight on the floor, which you would have definitely reprimanded him for doing, it floated down towards one of the side tables in a gentle motion.

You stared at the book a little impressed, especially when you turned back to Sirius and realised his wand was tucked in the pocket of his pants. He was surprisingly good at wandless magic, that you knew, but it never failed to impress.

You turned to him with a small smirk as you leaned your hand towards his head “Sirius if you want my attention you just have to ask for it,” you said as you dug your hand into his hair.

He hummed again, closing his eyes peacefully as he felt your fingers run over his scalp, an action that reminded you a lot of how Padfoot –back when you thought he was Fang- had reacted to you petting him. You wondered if it was a dog thing or a Sirius thing. You saw him take a deep breath as he buried his head deeper into your stomach.

“I’ll pretend that isn’t weird,” you teased with a smile.

He turned to you with a reproachful gaze. “It helps the stool smell go away,” he said with a frown.

You just laughed, also being a canine made you understand the appeal of smells, especially his smell, but you were never as obvious about it, besides, there was nothing as fun as teasing Sirius… Which reminded you of that talk you’d had with Peter after the quidditch game. You reached for the nape of his neck and gently turned his head to look at you, you saw the way his nose brushed on your stomach and how the tip bent just a little as he turned your eyes to yours, “You know… the other day I was talking to Peter–”

Sirius winced “Don’t tell me it’s about one of his ridiculous ideas because–”

“Hey listen!” you told him as you smacked him lightly, “Peter is smart too.” Sirius only raised his eyebrows “Sometimes,” you added. “He’s good at Herbology and Care for Magical Creatures.”

“And your point?”

You rolled your eyes. “He said something and… I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” you had stopped scratching his scalp for a second and he nudged your hand by moving his head for you to get back to it, much like a dog would. You held back a laugh and continued, “he said that when their parents got him a kitten, they had to rub the kitten onto the cat to make him accept him.”

Sirius frowned, completely lost in the point you were trying to make. “Is this your way of trying to convince me to get a kitten? Because I don’t like them.”

You laughed. “No, I have enough pets with you lot being my friends.” He looked offended and leaned his head to give a soft, playful bite to your arm. You just smiled, biting your own lip. “Point proven.”

He scoffed and placed his head on top of the arm he had bitten as he looked at you straight in the eyes, you almost lost your train of thought as you stared at him, always fascinated by the fact that someone so beautiful would be looking at you, with such a gaze.

“So what’s with the cats then?” He asked, he was looking at you in a way that made your knees weak, and you were happy you were lying on a sofa rather than standing.

“Well, it’s a smell thing,” you said as you broke eye contact, focusing on your hands on his hair to try and speak properly. “Peter said it’s something about getting the kitten to have the smell of the pack so the larger cat wouldn’t attack him.” Sirius nodded. “He then mentioned that… Moony had honed in my smell. That even on the first moon of the year he had been restless, and had been really hard to deal with.”

“Yeah, he was a bitch,” Sirius said as he nodded “Kept wanting to go in the castle.”

“Mhm,” you agreed. “So Peter suggested that we do the same.”

Sirius arched his eyebrows at you as he passed his tongue over his lips, clearly amused at your suggestion. “Sweetheart, if what you wanted was to rub against me, you could have just said that,” he said with a small smirk and a suggestive look.

You scoffed and swatted him on the head, “Sirius focus! He said I could rub onto you or James.”

“No!” he said all too fast, a flash of jealousy in his eyes.

You giggled, “Well… technically he said Padfoot and Prongs. He offered himself too but said he was too small.”

“Ugh…Don’t put that image in my head!” He said with a frown. And then turned to you again “What about Remus? Wouldn’t it make more sense for you to rub on him?”

You nodded, “Yeah, but it doesn’t seem very clever to go rub onto Moony when he could just reach down and close his jaws around me, does it?”

Sirius frowned, “Not Moony, Remus.”

“You think that would work? You don’t smell the same as Pads.”

“Why, been smelling me much?” he teased.

You rolled your eyes, “Padfoot smells a lot more like a dog.”

“Are you suggesting I stink?”

“Your words, not mine.” He pinched your side with his hand and you laughed. Of course, you didn’t think he smelled bad, in fact, Vixen seemed to be just as drawn to that smell as you were by Sirius’.

“Anyway, Remus smells like Moony.”

“Been smelling him much?” you teased now.

He gave you a look, “I live with him you moron.” He omitted the fact that yes, he had, and that Remus had been clouding his thoughts for a while now.

You sighed, “Well, I suppose we could turn into Vixen and Pads and cuddle him then. You think he’d be up for it?”

He looked to the side as if thinking about it, “Well… If anyone can convince him, it’s us.”

You nodded in agreement. And then you remembered, “Talking about Remus…”

“Mhm?”

You sighed, “I’ve been invited to Slughorn’s Christmas Party.”

“Congratulations?” he said a little confused, “What’s that got to do with Moons?”

“He’s never been invited.” He hummed in response as if to get you to elaborate, you continued to brush your nails on his scalp, he could feel your nervousness in the way the patterns you made had gone a little faster. “I want him to go. He… seemed a little harsh when I suggested that he must have been invited many times because of how clever he is.”

“He won’t like it, he’ll think it’s pity.”

“No, but… I think he deserves it! More than me even!”

Sirius shook his head “It’s not just about cleverness, I was invited in my first year, all of my cousins had been members of the Slug Club. Of course, I didn’t go.”

You sighed, “Yeah, maybe my father being who he is has a lot more to do with my invitation than anything.”

“That’s not… it’s not what I was trying to say…”

You sighed again. “I know, Puppy.” You then turned to him, “Would you mind if I invited him?”

“Instead of me?” He teased.

“Of course if you don’t want to I would never, I just–”

Sirius laughed, “I couldn’t care less about the Slug Club, in fact, Walburga might be pleased if I were to go, so I think it’s great if you take Remus instead.” He really tried not to think of how good the two of you would look all dolled up for the party together.

“You think they know about us?” You asked with a frown.

“I’d be surprised if they didn’t,” Sirius said and then shrugged, “If anything I bet they’re pissed you’re dating me and not Regulus.”

You laughed at that, and then remembered the way Walburga had stared at you when she introduced their children, “Imagine if they knew I’m part-fairy.”

“You what?” Sirius asked, pushing himself from you to look straight at your face.

“You… I didn’t tell you?”

“No!”

“I thought I had,” you said with a guilty-looking smile “It’s from my mum’s side, my great grandma was a fairy, but they decided to keep it secret.”

“That must be why you’re so pretty,” He said as he leaned back against you “And so good at flying, it’s kind of an unfair advantage when you think about it.”

You smiled, you knew Sirius wouldn’t judge you for being part fairy, but there was something about the way in which he took it, like it was the most normal thing in the world –rather similar to the way Remus had– that made you want to plant a kiss on those pretty pinky lips of his.

“How do we convince Remus of the cuddling?” You asked then, your mind going back to the other boy.

Sirius smirked, “We don’t convince him. We surprise him,” he said as he stood up and extended his hand for you to take, a mischievous look on his face that made him look like the most alluring thing you had ever seen in your life. You almost gaped at him as you grabbed his hand and he pulled you off the bed and dragged you to the stairs of the boys’ dormitories.

Remus Lupin hadn’t had the best of days. He had attempted to help the boys clean the pens but the animals kept drifting apart from him and trying to escape their little space because of his presence. Eventually, Professor Kettleburn had asked him to step out of them and help him sort out some of the food, dividing it into smaller bags for the younger students to be able to feed them later on.

Remus was already used to not being able to be close to some creatures, they didn’t exactly like him much, probably because they could smell the wolf in him. Of course, it wasn’t like that all the time, in fact, the fireworms he was still co-parenting with you seemed to have gotten a liking to him, although he wasn’t sure if it was because they couldn’t quite think properly or if the real reason was because a fireworm could be easily as destructive as he was.

Either way, Remus hated sorting the food, it was a boring, tedious task that he felt brought no new knowledge to him, but that wasn’t even the worst part. No, the worst part was that, because it was such a simple and mundane task it offered no mental challenge, which meant his brain was idle. And of course, since his brain was idle, he couldn’t stop thinking about things he’d rather not think about at all. Let alone in depth.

It had all started as he was serving the second bag, his brain had gone back to the previous class, he’d seen how worried you were. While you hadn’t told Remus and the boys, or anyone the exact details of what had happened that night, you had mentioned Barty apparating in front of the Shack. Remus knew the boy was talented, but he didn’t know that he was that talented. He had no idea how to apparate yet, although after doing it with Dumbledore he thought he could learn how to do it easily enough.

He had also linked the smell from that night exactly to the way you smelled that day. He’d noticed he’d become a lot better at isolating your smell from the rest of people after the incident. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the lingering smell of bIood that always seemed to be carried alongside you after you had been wounded; because he had been so close to your animagus in the infirmary or because his obsession had just gotten that bad, but it was happening. Quite similar to the way he could easily isolate Sirius’ smell. But smell sometimes changed a little, he remembered easily being able to know when Sirius had snogged someone by the sheer smell he exuded afterwards, it always pissed him off and he had to play it out, especially after he realised it was because he too wanted to snog him. He could also tell when the rest of the boys had done similar things, but that had never bothered him.

But the fact that Remus had been able to identify the exact smell from that night, meant you were probably reliving what had happened, which had, in turn, put him just as on edge as he had been then. The same worry filled his insides, the same need to protect. It had taken a monumental struggle not to instantly sprint your way when the smell first hit him, and it had been even harder to hold back from hugging you when he could see damn well you could use one. And Sirius was too busy boasting with James to notice, not that you weren’t a brilliant actress, heck you hid it almost as well as he hid his aches and pains after a moon. But there had been few people he couldn’t quite hide it from. Turns out there were also people you couldn’t hide it from: that being Remus.

Remus attempted to focus on something else, and he looked up to try and find some kind of interesting animal, student drama or something, but instead, what he found was Sirius’ intense gaze. His eyes, which looked more blue than grey that day because of the sun that shone so brightly over them as they cleaned, were focused on Remus. Remus almost scowled, thinking Sirius was looking at him out of pity, but then he noticed that Sirius hadn’t quite realised Remus was looking at him yet. When they locked eyes, Sirius continued to shamelessly stare at Remus, looking to be rather deep in thought as he stared at his friend, as if he were trying to solve a riddle.

While Sirius didn’t look particularly angry as he stared, Remus was slightly intimidated by him, was there any chance he had noticed the way he had been looking at you? The way he kept staring at him when he wasn’t looking? Sirius wasn’t particularly oblivious to the way people looked at him, to the way girls looked at him. Was it possible that he was able to link those gazes to the ones Remus often threw his way?

Regardless of how intimidating “the Black” stare could be, Remus held his stance, staring at Sirius with as much curiosity and moxy as he could muster. Sirius seemed amused by that, biting his lip in the most lascivious manner Remus had ever seen in his life and then sending a wink in Remus’ direction before focusing on cleaning again.

Remus was glaring at Sirius’ back as the boy turned his head, how dare he wink at me like that? he thought as he mentally scoffed. Needless to say, Remus wasn’t able to get Sirius off his head after that, especially Sirius’ soft-looking lips. Fucking Sirius Black and his fucking pretty lips. He’s an arse who knows how pretty he is and uses it to his advantage. What a prat! Why must he be so fucking pretty?!?

By the end of the class, Remus’ head was in pain from how many thoughts were going ‘round inside of it, he might as well be a merry-go-round with how much it was swiveling. He had a headache, he was full of dirt and animal food and he was still pissed at Sirius who had looked at him the way he did.

James had gone chasing behind Lily with the excuse that he had to go check on her and Sirius had approached Remus right after. Peter was lost somewhere, but Remus couldn’t care less at that point. He was still pissed at Sirius, for absolutely no reason at all.

“You alright?” Sirius asked with a frown, and fuck did he look adorable.

“I’ve got a bit of a headache,” Remus said sharply, “I think I’ll go to the library.”

“You have a headache and will go to the library?” Sirius asked puzzled, “Doesn’t seem very clever, why don’t you come with? I’m going to try and find Kit, I’m surprised she didn’t come back to class after taking Lily to the dormitories.”

Remus scoffed, and coughed a bit to cover it up when he realised you wouldn’t want Sirius to know you had been affected because of that night, “Wouldn’t want to third wheel on quality time with your girlfriend.”

Sirius threw him a wary glance as if he had noticed something was wrong with his friend, “You’re never a third wheel Remus, we love having you around.”

Remus bit the side of his cheek to hold himself from snapping at Sirius, he had no logical reason to do it, any normal person would be more than happy to spend time with his best friends all together, but Moony was a jealous beast and sometimes it sipped all the way into Remus, “I have to prepare my potions essay.”

There was no potions essay, he had finished it a few nights ago when you had polyjuiced yourself into James to take his punishment for him, not that Sirius knew.

“And you should cuddle her more,” Remus said almost bitterly. When Sirius gave him a quizzical look he tried to calm his nerves again. “I think It still hurts,” he said “I saw her clutching her arm earlier.”

Sirius nodded and Remus stared at him as they parted ways, grumbling something about Sirius being unbelievable as he walked to the library. There he tried to find a quiet spot, but after finding none, because all students seemed to be more focused on gossip than on books, he decided to retire to the Prefects’ Bathroom, to try and relax. Unfortunately, when he went he walked in on none other than Alice Becket making out with a Ravenclaw boy from 7th. She seemed surprised when she saw Remus but he just shut the door.

Remus didn’t care much about Alice snogging other boys, he had used her as much as she was using him, and he knew they weren’t exactly exclusive, but he had already been pretty riled up at the moment, and that was like the last nail in the coffin. Thankfully Alice didn’t follow behind him as he stormed through the hall towards his Common Room. He hoped to the heavens that he wouldn’t find you and Sirius snogging on the couch because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to maintain his sanity if he did.

Thankfully, as he walked in, he realised it was mostly empty. There were a few first and second-year kids talking, and reading, while most of the older kids had probably gone to the Hogsmeade outing after class. He walked up to his room and opened the door warily as he looked around. He frowned as he took in the smell of the room. It looked empty, but there was a lingering scent of you and Sirius all over the place. The thought that you had both shagged there earlier made him even more uncomfortable as he let himself fall head first on the bed and groaned into his pillow.

For some fucking reason that also had the smell of you and Sirius. Which, while initially pissed him off, the more he let the smell penetrate him, the more relaxed he started to feel. He was about to let his mind roam with thoughts that he normally didn’t allow himself to have, with all the stress of the day he figured he deserved a break. He took a deep breath and remembered how you and Sirius had sounded back when you were kissing the day you made the potions for the prank. Remus was just starting to get in the mood when he felt his bed dip on the side. He turned around horrified, just to find Padfoot jumping like a happy puppy.

“What in the bIoody–” He started and then felt the bed dip on the other side. A small red fox had also jumped into his bed. She was wagging her tail as excitedly and happily as Padfoot “Vixen?” he asked, confused. He could have sworn he saw the fox smile.

The fox and the dog threw a look at each other before the fox climbed on top of Remus’ chest. The dog leaned in closer and rested his head on the fox’s back. Remus looked horrified at the two of them, horrified because he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt more comfortable –perhaps when he was reading and you were all mushed together on his bed– and horrified because he had no idea what the hell the two of you were planning.

He wasn’t even sure what to say, or if he should say anything, but it pissed him off not knowing what the hell the two of you were up to so he put on the angriest face he could muster “If you two pair of twats don’t get off me in the next five seconds, I will hex you!”

Padfoot stared at him and leaned his head on your back again, only tilting it to the side when Remus started to count down. Sirius had been stared at with that angry, threatening face hundreds of times throughout his life. He’d do something silly near the moon, and Remus would put on that same face and scowl at him, he’d get caught after a prank and Remus would give him the scowl, he’d snog a random girl and leave her and Remus would also get pissed, at this point, Sirius was almost immune to it. You, on the other hand, had only seen Remus angry at the Shack, and while it wasn’t exactly the same face he was making, it did make you recoil, even if it was just a little.

“Three… Two…” he kept counting, Remus was staring directly at you, and you wriggled out of the sandwich Remus and Padfoot had you on until you fell on the bed. You rolled over your back until you were staring at Remus, weight on your front paws as if you were ready to jump and attack, but there was something playful about it, as if you were challenging Remus. Padfoot on the other hand had just laid his head on Remus’ chest again, looking as unbothered with Remus as Sirius often was.

Remus attempted to push him off of him but Padfoot didn’t budge. Of course, Remus wasn’t using his full strength and Sirius knew that too, which gave him more confidence to stay right where he was. Besides, Remus was warm and comfortable and he smelled awfully nice that day.

“Sirius, get off! BIoody hell why are you both attacking me like this?!?” Padfoot barked softly and you leaned closer again, but Remus gave you a warning glance “Either one of you explains to me what the fuck is going on or–” Padfoot leaned forward and licked Remus’ cheek, an action awfully reminiscent of the Halloween party. Remus pushed him off his face “That’s fucking gross!”

Regardless, the dog didn’t seem to care and licked Remus’ hands as he attempted to push him off. You watched the entire scene diverted when the werewolf turned to you, a pleading look on his face. “Little Witch, please tell me what the fuck is going on.”

You felt genuinely tempted to ignore him and just lick his face like Sirius had done, but there was something about Remus’ pleading expression that made you want to do whatever he wanted. You turned back into yourself, not quite measuring your stance and ended up laying beside Remus, almost like that time you were reading “The Godfather” except this time around your head was leaning on his arm. But rather than stepping away, like Remus expected you to do, you just got yourself comfortable, which was a very Sirius thing to do. Padfoot had laid his paws on Remus’ torso and licked your face once too, which had you laughing merrily as you lay in Remus’ arms.

Remus was rather tense, feeling like he might be third-wheeling but also awfully welcomed in between the two of you. “Little witch?” he asked again, an edge of panic in his voice as Padfoot continued trying to lick his face and yours.

“Peter told us we had to cuddle you.”

“What?!” Remus asked as he frowned, now more confused than he’d been before.

Sirius transformed back into himself, he was sitting on the bed, leaning slightly onto Remus as his hands were pressed on the other boy’s abdomen like they had done when they were paws. “Well technically, he said Vixen had to cuddle Padfoot and Prongs.”

“You’re not making anything clear,” Remus said as he motioned to stand but both you and Sirius held him down. You by placing your hands on his arm and Sirius by leaning onto him just a little more.

“It’s because of the smell,” you explained. “He said Moony had honed on my smell and that he kept chasing after me since the first moon.”

Yeah, Moony isn’t the only one who honed onto your smell, Remus thought.

“And he said if we rub our smell on her and she smells like the pack then Moony wouldn’t chase her anymore.”

Remus looked at you horrified, “You wouldn’t be thinking of setting a foot out on the next full moon, would you?”

“Well of course I will,” you said simply. “We can’t have Moony continue being all reckless chasing after me or whatever, he’s hurting himself, and you in the process.”

“We can’t have him hurt you either,” Remus said sharply.

“And that, my dear friend, is why we are going to cuddle you,” Sirius said with an air of finality.

“I… I don’t know about–”

“We have to try, Rem!” You said lifting yourself and turning to him, a little more serious now. You sighed. “I don’t want you to keep hurting yourself because of me. And if what I need to do to fix it is cuddle the shit out of you and Padfoot then, I’ll take one for the team.”

Sirius barked a laugh after that and shoved you lightly on the side “Oh shut up, Vixen loves cuddles!”

“Not from dirty smelly dogs,” you teased.

Sirius straight up gasped at that, looking rather amused. “Oh, you little minx!” He said as he turned into Padfoot again and jumped over you, licking your face mercilessly. He kept barking in between licks. And both you and Remus knew exactly what he was saying even if neither of you spoke dog.

“Take that back, Take that back!” Padfoot said with each bark.

After laughing so much your stomach started to hurt, you complied. “All right, alright! You’re not a dirty smelly dog, Pads!”

The dog barked satisfied, cooing his head in a smug manner that would have allowed anybody to figure out that he was Sirius and not a normal dog. You had reached up and started rubbing the back of his ears, gently scratching. Remus, without thinking much about it, joined you, your fingers brushing against each other as you both petted Padfoot.

“That’s right, he’s a good boy, isn’t he?” Remus teased. Sirius was about to protest, but the boy scratched the dog in a way he knew would shut him up; and rather than complain, he started wagging his tail behind him as he leaned onto Remus’ touch.

“By Merlin! You have to teach me that!” You said with a surprised expression as you watched the way Padfoot leaned onto Remus, who had somewhat of a smug smile on his face. “You think it would shut Sirius up too?” The dog barked your way and was about to jump over you again when Remus scratched the same way again and he instantly melted back onto the other boy. You giggled at that. “You’re brilliant, Rem!”

Remus almost beamed at that, while the stress of the day wasn’t getting relieved the salacious way he thought it would, cuddling his two crushes, even if they would be in their animal form, might as well be a lot better. As long as he didn’t think much of it. Besides it had been your idea –technically Peter’s– which meant you actually wanted to cuddle him.

And while earlier, at least at the Halloween Party he had shone away from your touch, after he felt the way Sirius’ hands and yours brushed over his body, it felt a lot less intimate to cuddle Padfoot and Vixen, even if it was just as nice, and even if you still hadn’t turned to Vixen. You were too entertained petting Padfoot and the dog seemed rather content, even as his girlfriend was cosied up against his best friend. Head on his shoulder and shoulder –the not wounded one– against his torso.

He knew Sirius to be jealous, he had been jealous of Tom several times, but he seemed to be feeling nothing of the sorts as you cuddled up against Rem. And boy were you a lot closer to him than you’d ever been to Tom, which he was really trying not to think much about.

Remus stared at the both of you, the dog and the girl, all comfortable, and all over him as he wondered if Sirius just didn’t consider him a rival at all. He had never seemed jealous of how close you and he were. How many projects and classes you had together, how much time you spent with each other. Remus, like he often did, started to overthink it. Was he that bad-looking that Sirius wouldn’t even consider the possibility of him stealing his girl? Was it that impossible to believe you could like him back?

No, you had called him pretty several times, you had mentioned he was hot too, Sirius had mentioned the same thing. If he didn’t know any better he’d think it had been flirting. But neither of you would flirt, you were too bIoody in love with each other to ever even consider another person. But Sirius was definitely a jealous man. Jealous except when… it comes to me.

You looked up at Rem when you realised he had stopped petting Pads, you only noticed because the dog kept bumping his head on the way to his hand as if asking to continue what he’d been doing, when you saw the frown on his pretty face, his brows knitting together as he was in deep thought, you spoke “What’s got your knickers in a twist? Is cuddling us that uncomfortable?”

“What?!” Remus asked as you brought him back, trying not to look at your lips as you laid so close to him, “No, no! I was thinking of– hold up! Aren’t I supposed to be cuddling Padfoot and Vixen?”

“You are,” you said with a shrug.

“I’m cuddling Padfoot and my little witch,” he said amused.

Not one person in the room questioned the way Remus had said “my” prior to Little Witch. In fact, not the dog, not the girl, not even the small portrait in the back –that was known to be rather outspoken– even questioned the wording of the sentence, as if you all knew, on a subconscious level, that it was true.

You gasped, not realising you had completely forgotten to turn back, too entertained on petting the dog to think about it “You’re bIoody right!” you said as you leaned forwards brusquely, Remus really tried not to feel bad about the cold breeze that instantly hit him after your bodies separated from each other. “Must have been really tired, I was about to fall asleep.”

And you really had been, not that you knew why you were so sleepy. It seemed the cosiness both boys brought over soothed you to sleep.

Padfoot barked your way, you didn’t have to be a dog expert to know he was making fun of you. He poked his head on Remus’ hand again, as if to prompt him to continue his ministrations, and you looked at him, a spark of jealousy lighting inside you, not because you didn’t like Remus petting your boyfriend, but because you wanted in on the petting too. In an instant, you turned to Vixen, shrinking to the middle of the bed and walking your way toward Remus’ chest, and pushing Padfoot’s head just slightly to the side, as if you owned the place.

The dog nibbled your ear in protest but ended up letting you do whatever the hell you wanted, placing his head on top of your back once you looked like you had gotten yourself comfortable. He made sure to brush his snout all over your smaller body. Partly because he wanted to make sure he was rubbing you with the scent of the pack, but mostly because he wanted to see if he’d get a reaction out of you. You only leaned closer to Remus, closing your eyes as you got yourself even more comfortable. The boy, the only human left in the room, smiled and placed a hand over your small head.

Padfoot looked like he was about to protest over the loss of contact, Remus without even opening his eyes mumbled “It’s Vixen the one that needs the smell of the pack, not you Pads.”

The dog huffed in response, he too wanted to be pet by Remus, but he also knew Remus was right, so he just nuzzled his head closer to Vixen’s body as you nuzzled your own against Remus’ hand. Remus was enjoying the way the two of you warmed him more than almost anything he’d ever enjoyed in his life. Perhaps only rivalled with that one kiss he had given you and the one he had shared with Sirius years past.

And while the nagging little voice in his head screamed at him to run, to leave before he knew what heartbreak really was after being able to be so close and yet not being able to have either of you, he decided to ignore it.

Remus would wallow in the feeling of the two of you nuzzling against him, even if it was just this once.

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suuuupernovaaa · 1 year

Text

muntxa si

MUNTXA SI: (english) to mate with, marry

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

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

2,247 words.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I cannot lose you, Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She was gone, at least from this form.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I leaned into him. “I am naked.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The tears threatened to return.

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

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

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

“Forever,” he whispered in my ear.

I squeezed him tight. “Forever.”

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

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beiasluv · 1 year

Text

okay, funny idea but…

sully boys in the undergarments section w/ u

masterlist

enjoyy🤍

jake (2009)

kinda used to this, but actually not

would eye out the bras and underwear shockingly on the outside but inside he’s down bad like DOWN BAD

would follow you like a lost puppy but when he see something that catches his eyes, he’s gone.

“ooo, what’s this,” and then proceeded to walk away like AWAY.

probably have go on the announcement “jake sully, jake sully, please go to the information, thank you.”

he loves teasing you with those ‘extreme’ undergarments.

probably show you a red, laced, see-through bra and be like, “i think it’ll look good on you.”

sNATCHING that out of his hand IMMEDIATELY

if you tell me this man does not squish the bras, you are LY-ING

he loves squishing them and earning a weird look from an old lady (bless her soul 😭)

loves touching the mannequins’ butts and boobs. LIKE PLEASE- NO

cheeky asf but you love him. he will grin while looking over to you and mouthing, ‘you’re next.’

def give comments on each piece like “ooo, it’s giving disco, but you know i like them laces.” “don’t pick these, it scratches my skin, don’ like it.”

he be into them granny panties 😳 like the laces and stuff definitely turned him on- SIR- JAIL

erm…will borrow your bag to cover his boner😭💀

getting really comfortable, like TOO comfortable, and asking the employee for recommendations. feeling the textures and everything

BEGGING AND THROWING himself on the floor if he finds something super hot for you to try it. making faces like ‘WE NEED THIS’

if you come out of the fitting room, wearing the ones he picked for you, he will be like: “I’M COMING IN. I’M COMING IN!”

would compliment you as you try each outfit for him.

WILL SPOIL YOU AND PAY FOR EVERYTHING

“okay, honey, if you pick this piece, i’ll buy everything for you, JUST that this piece have to come home with us,” 😏

jake loves going to shopping underwear for life

in conclusion, jake spoil you, bbg

neteyam

awkward but teasing boiii

he’s very confident EVERYwhere else (in the bedroom 🤭) but as soon as he step in an undergarment shop, he’s flustered ASF

CAN NOT stop looking at them bras and underwear.

drooling over them, my ass

hold your hand and walking behind you are a must.

can not move his body like he usually can, would just stop functioning 💀 *neteyam.exe has stopped responding*

would whisper seductive and teasing comments to you. “these will look hot on you, but it’s better if they are on the ground.” PLEASE- SIR-

if you wanna go try them on, he’ll cry, for the love of his life, he CANNOT stay alone in the shop. “pleaseee, gorgeous, i wanna come too.”

WILL and definitely secretly look through the shelves for a piece for you 🥺

he knows that you can be sometimes picky with the designs and color, but he love you for that. it doesn’t bother him that you wanted to feel comfortable in something so uncomfortable for SUCH a long time.

imagine coming out of the fitting room like neteyam just standing there like: “i think you’ll like these”

AAAAA, sir, please, let me order one of you

AND LET ME TELL YOU they will fit perfectly and FEELS great (he really knows his job, guys- wait- how did he know your size- 😳)

anyways, will look after your things while you are changing

you are lying if you say he doesn’t try some bras on just to be funny for you. gurl, snatch them OFF cuz he’s getting a little too comfortable in them.

will 100% secretly squish bras. if you catch him doing that, he’ll just say like “it’s for testing how soft they are for you.”

maybe, don’t tell anyone this, but he loves to see the hooks of each bra. definitely doing something appropriate here, neteyam.

overall just love being there to support you and tease you, hehe

lo’ak

before the day you decided to go undergarments shopping, he had to prepare himself 😭

lo’ak will get so nervous about it and asking you do’s and don’t’s. like, sir, PLEASE CALM DOWM

walking in the store would count as his top 10 scariest moments in his life 💀

he’ll clutch on to your arm as if he will die, pressing his body against you and everything

will be so uncomfortable walking around the store 😭 hands clammed up together in front and everything. slow pacing around the store like a grandpa.

WILL not touch everything and only pointing at the ones he thinks will look super HAWT on you

once he calmed down, put your seatbelts on, the show’s about to begin.

WILL 100% get excited by different stuffs. touching everything like

“wtf, these are soft asf!” “ooo, these are scratchy” “they are sparkly!” (yes, but, sir, the sparkles in your eyes are falling out)

getting comfortable, going on an adventure mode, and opening drawers to be surprised by super seggsys stuffs

being a supportive boyfriend and picking things for you

“white or black?”

“white, white all the way.”

“but they are see through”

“exactly.”

would ask question about EVERYTHING and his face will turn red 😭 once he realized how extreme some bras could get, he is red like a tomatooo

WILL ask you to try on some HAWT stuff for him, but will cry if you leave him alone outside

def picking cute sets for you and waiting outside the fitting room, holding your stuffs

if you come out to show in your outfit, his jaw is DROPPED, SMASHED, AND CRUMBLED ON THE GROUND.

“darlinggg, you- I am lost for words- I’M COMING IN.”

in conclusion, a boy holding on to his dear life and fighting demons in the undergarment store.

today’s a great day to eat and take a break! 🤍 take care

@rosaryos / @bumblinbumblvee / @nyotamalfoy / @fangirl-2610 / @astablacksword / @lokisblueskin

#fanfiction #avatar imagine #avatar the way of water #avatar x reader #imagines #neteyam imagine #neteyam x reader #jake sully imagine #jake sully x reader #lo’ak imagine #lo’ak x reader

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day-drawn-blog · 6 months

Text

Part III: I meant to say, that I love you, or maybe, fear like a flame, what's happening to me.

- The Power.

Part III : Just tonight, maybe I'll rest in peace

Tags: angst, fluff, sadness, angst, fluff, then maybe eventually smut because I do love that

Part I. Crowned light moon of mine - I found you too soon

Part II : Lace your heart with mine Let your sleeping soul take flight

Part IV : There is much to do and I still want to live

Part V: our futures bound, our bodies known

Part VI : these ain't my sins, I broke my chains

Part VII: You are not mine and am I truly yours

Part VIII: your blood like wine, invites me in

Part IX: I'll welcome my sentence and give you my penance

Part X : I can't go yet...don't let me die

------------

Another day, another battle. You shut out Shadowheart's physical closeness and familiarity with Astarion out of your peripheral vision. Because you like her. And this wasn't her fault. You don't want to hate her. But something strange would happen every now and again. Walking along with everyone, during the day, you trying to keep your distance from the two, trailing behind a bit... Astarion would turn back and look at you a few times. Catching you off guard. He would smile if he caught you looking at him sometimes.

What is he playing at.

It's not like we are friends. Not like that....I help him... And we fight together. And then you almost slipped on a cliff trying to go down a cragged rock, he stayed behind a bit, and held his hand out for you. You had to hold it or you would have fallen on your face. Embarrassing. And awkward.

He was happy. Smiling.

Dealing a lot of damage. Energized. His happiness energized you too. You were glad. If being his friend meant such warmth, you would take it. Remember what you want to be. You want to serve and protect. Even those that are too proud to ask for it. Or too lost to hope.

That night at camp was a celebration. You cannot remember why. But a bard was singing. Everyone sat around the fire. Laughing, singing. Drinking. Halsin was throwing someone in the air. Laezel was lecturing Gale on the merits of working out your body as much as the mind.

Once again you were lonely in a crowd.

It's not that you were'nt surrounded by people you loved who loved you back. But, that you sat opposite him. Across the fire. Him next to shadowheart. You between wyll and karlach. Shadowheart was telling him something pouring wine for him. He was laughing at what she said, happy. What a smile. He should smile more. Though he might accidentally show his fangs. You didn't realize you were inadvertently staring at his face. He locked eyes with you. You jolted and looked away.

Dammit.

It's embarrassing as it is, you keep his secret and let him drink you. This ...this is crossing the line even for you. While you looked away from him, your face solemn, between two happy people, Astarion couldn't help but notice. He felt sad. For you. You had helped him so much. Yet you were so sad yourself. He felt powerless. He resolved to come talk to you when he could tear himself away.

You didn't want to linger.

You got up. Took your sword. A bottle. And sulked into the darkness. Away from the merriment. Guilty of leaving those having fun. But you needed to channel your energy. You swing your weapon at a tree a few times, then practiced some moves by yourself. The noise fades away. Your mind quietened. You stopped to catch your breath. To take in the view.

It was breathtaking.

As you were lost taking in the river gleaning in the moonlight in the valley down the cliff, you heard someone approach.

"I saw you leave. I got you some wine". Astarion's smiling face appeared from the shadows. He handed you the bottle. You gratefully accepted. "it's beautiful out here".

Yes it was.

"shall we? :) Everyone is happy back at camp. Come join them" he beckoned. As if he had sought you out just to escort you back. You obliged. Walking back, he expressed his gratitude, and asked if he could come visit you again. That familiar feeling of being used...

But you couldn't say no.

After the merriment of the night, you went back to your tent. Dreading the encounter. Your heart was beating so fast in anticipation of this secret rendezvous. Why did it feel so wrong, yet so exciting. Images of his eyes, his face close to you, bent on your hand, flashed across. The alcohol must be getting to you. You paced around the tent. Shortly after, you heard him approach.

Your heart almost stopped.

He stumbled in. Had he been drinking so much? Shadowheart did make him drink a lot, but still. He ran his fingers through his hair. Smiled his charming smile and came inside. "Are you ready, darling? I can't wait, I'm positively famished" he said reeking of alcohol.

Ugh. Whatever. He is not even in his senses.

What was I expecting. You went to him, half expecting having to support him, but he just plopped down on your pillows. On his back. He beckoned you to come near him. Clearly lacking any energy to sit up. So you sat next to him. Extending your left arm to him. He held it, then smelled your arm. Taking you in.

Weird. You thought.

He then playfully licked your hand, while looking at you. Entwined his fingers with yours, and kissed them again. You could sense your heat rising in you. Your heart pounding, feeling warm down there. What a tease. Just get on with it and be done.

He did something very unusual.

He continued to kiss the back of your hand, trailing up ever so slightly, then licked your hands up and then slowly down a bit back to your fingertips. He then turned your hand over and kissed your palm. He was on his back the whole time.

Does he think you are her?

What is he doing? You were getting flustered, humiliated...but you didn't want him to stop. You were greedy. Just when you were about to ask him, he bit you. The sharp pang was surprising this time. He wasn't being gentle, you let out a little moan, looking away, then dropping down next to him. You felt drained. The feelings were too much to handle.

Principles be damned.

You want to savor the moment. The man you yearn for, right next to you. Your shoulders touching. Lying on your back, next to each other, hearing each other's breath. His face so close to you, with your hand on his lips. His thighs next to yours. You want to touch him...

But can you?

You shouldn't. Must not. Maintain your dignity. You urged yourself. Please. You don't want to stoop so low. He let go... With another kiss on your hand, he licked the droplets, then turned to look at you. You could smell the alcohol again. His eyes were happy, he was smiling. He looked nothing like the deceptive manipulative rogue you think he is, at that time. Just someone, very happy, very safe, very content.

Isn't shadowheart waiting?

You wanted to ask. But it wasn't your place. So you let him be. He held your hand in his. Entwined your fingers. And he showed no signs of getting up. Much to your panic. Is he going to be here all night? He can't be planning to? You propped yourself up on your elbows. To get a look at his face. But he was already asleep!

This....son of a gun!! He was passed right out.

Part IV : There is much to do and I still want to live

#astarion x tav #astarion romance #astarion bg3 #astarion x reader #astarion fluff #vampire

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fieldofdaisiies · 1 year

Text

Azriel x Reader | Scared to Be Lonely

type: angst (fluffy towards the end) warning(s): childhood abuse, trauma, nightmares word count: 2k words request: Hello! Can you please write something where Az has a nightmare about what his half brothers did to him and the reader, who is his mate, comforts him?

"Let's see how good the little bastard's healing powers are, shall we?" Gorzan sneers, Scorf holding his shoulders tightly, pressing his back against his chest. Azriel’s wings are squeezed between both their bodies and he winced loudly, hastily looking between his two step-brothers.

“Let me go!” young Azriel babbles and tries to wiggle out of his brother’s hold.

"Shut up, bastard!" Scorf snarls, twisting Azriel’s arm and pressing harder against his wing which makes Azriel cry out loudly, a few tears rolling down his eyes.

He watches Gorzan unscrew a bottle of oil, wiggling his brows when he nears the young boy and pours the thick liquid over his hands – the last time Azriel has them seen without the scars.

Everything after that becomes a blur – there are flames, fire and pain. So much pain. So much unbearable unimaginable pain. The skin feels hot, then cold, then both things at the same time. The skin ripped open, the fire crawling inside his skin, his body, his veins.

"Please, don't...please, father I beg you-" A harsh slap lands on young Azriel's face, icy-heat breaking out on his skin. A sob dies down in Azriel’s throat, his vision blurry with tears. He can here faint laughter of his step-mother, the cackling of Scorf, the sneering of Gorzan.

Darkness settles over Azriel when he is once again locked into the cell in the cellar - the dungeon.

Azriel’s whole body shudders when she jolts up in bed, sitting up straight and clutching the damp sheets to his chest. His skin feels clammy with his sweat, his heart racing in his chest when Azriel shakes. Air wheezes in and out of his lungs, hands trembling, and so does his lower lip. His throat burns with a scream, feels dry and like sandpaper when swallowing. The shadowsinger does not know if he has screamed in his sleep, only that his chest aches, so does his soul and his heart.

Azriel knows he has to calm down. He does not want to wake you. Does not want you to have to deal with this again.

He tries to focus on anything, the pile of clothes on his desk, the moonlight reflecting of the opposite wall, the edge of the bed, the—

Warm hands cradle the shadowsinger’s face, turning his head so he looks at you. Your expression is shocked, sad, panicked, although you try so very heard to look calm. You don’t want him too see how much it hurts you when he hurts, but your expression gives you away. Your thumbs brush over his damp cheeks when you pull him closer to you.

“Azriel, it was just a nightmare. Please, calm down. It was a nightmare. It is not real. Not anymore. It lays in the past.” It is always the same dream. Has always been. When you started dating, even before the bond had clicked, Azriel has had these nightmares. They got less over the time of your relationship, but that does not mean they no longer happen at all.

There are still nights where he is haunted by them, where all the memories flood his mind, where every small wound is ripped open again. Where the pain is just as strong as in those moments. Sometimes even stronger, because it is the mental pain that hurts much more than the physical one.

“It is alright. They are not here. They cannot hurt you anymore. You are safe, Azriel. You are safe with me.”

The blood rushes Azriel’s ears, his knees feel shaky, feet numb, heels pressing into the mattress. Azriel's heart has fallen into his gut, fire blazing through his veins. Just like fire all those years ago. Azriel’s head jerks slightly at the memory and he huffs, clenching his jaw and squeezing his eyes shut. His heart hammers against his rib cage, in his throat, and he tries so very hard to focus on everything else but the nightmare, the memories. He tries to focus on you, on you only, sitting in front of him, in your nightgown, so beautiful.

You pull Azriel closer so his forehead is touching yours. You draw in a deep breath, urging him to do the same. He has to calm, and he has to steady his heartbeat and his breathing. Azriel shudders against you when he brings his hands up, lowers them again and places them on your bare thighs, his finger tips slipping underneath your short nightgown. He curls his fingers around your thighs, holding on tightly, steadying himself. He needs to tell himself that you are here, he is safe with you, you are protecting him.

“Sorry,” the spymaster shudders but only squeeze him.

“Azriel,” you whisper and bump his nose with yours. “It was a nightmare. Don not apologise.”

He knows that. Of course he does, but whenever the pictures flash in front of his vision, in his mind, Azriel finds himself as a young boy again. Helpless, worthless, scared, hurt. He feels so little again, so weak, so hopeless. Because back then there was no hope. There was nothing to hope for in those nights spent in the cold, moldy dungeon where his only friends where the shadows – his protectors, his saviours, his family. “I know.” The shadowsinger exhales a shuddering breath, his shadows crawling over his shoulders, soothingly brushing over his damp skin. For such a long time it has always only been them who brought him peace and comfort. But since he has has you, there is something much stronger in his life that brings him comfort and peace in the darkest times.

“Thank you,” Azriel breaths and tips his head back a little. He kisses the corner of your mouth before pressing his skin against yours. “It is so good to have you.” His breath his warm on your skin. You move one hand into his hair, softly scratching his scalp. “Want to lie down on me?”

You feel him smile —a tiny, weak smile— against your face before he dips his chin, the stubble on his jaw brushing slightly rough on your cheek. Shifting on the bed, you lift the sheets from your body, making space for the shadowsinger. “Come here.” Azriel also shifts on the bed, but before he crawls over to you he gives his head a little shake. “I will go bathe first, I am quite sweaty and I don’t—“ “Care at all. Come here, my love.” Now the smile on his face is more convincing, a little wider and warmer. Azriel does as told, he moves over on the bed, dragging his wings after him when caging you underneath his tall figure. The shadowsinger wraps his arms around your torso, one leg nudged between your thighs, his face in the crook of your neck.

He releases a relieved sigh when he draws in your scent, peace and security reaching him through the bond.

“Wouldn’t be the first time that your are sweaty on top of me, huh?” you chuckle lightly and wipe your hand over your mate’s face. Azriel kisses your shoulder and also releases a tiny chuckle.

“Other times the situation is different.” “But the sweat is the same. And I really don’t care.” Lifting you head a little, you lean forward and kiss your mate’s forehead. Your lips brush his when a warm, and something like summer breeze, feeling reaches your through the bond. You know he has calmed a little by now, his chest no longer hammering so frantically against his ribcage. He is still not fully at ease, it always takes a while, but he is a one good way. Also the shadows around his body seem calmer, now stroking over his skin in big, idle circles. Your brush on hand, that you have freed, over the shadowsinger’s back, nails scratching slightly as he loves this. You also brush over the places where the wings are attached to Azriel’s back, also a little further up over the leathery membrane, but never touching the sensitive parts. This would be wholly out of place right now and you don’t at all deem it appropriate, so soothing scratches it is.

“We can talk about it, you know,” you whisper after a long moment of peaceful silence. Azriel shifts slightly, uncurling one hand from around you. He brushes it up your torso and slides it into your nightgown, cupping your left breast in his large hand. “Need to feel your heartbeat, yes?” You giggle slightly, and dip your chin when Azriel visibly relaxes more, his figure no longer so stiff and rigid.

It is something Azriel has done from every early on, somehow syncing his heart with yours. And it helps. It helps him so much.

“We have talked about it so many times, I don’t want to—“

“And I have told you so many times that you don’t bother me with it. You want to talk about it, we talk about it. You don’t want to, we don’t.”

Azriel releases air through his nose and kisses your shoulder again, squeezing you to him, his hand still under your gown. “I think I don’t want to talk about it. It was just the same dream again, my brothers and then the…dungeon. Nothing new. I just want to lay here, alright?” “That is fine,” you say again his head and his kiss hair, your hand brushing from your back up to his neck, to his hair. Your uncurl some strands, tugging lightly on them and twirling them around your fingers. “Should we cut them again soon? Or are you trying to go for a Cassian-like hair style?” you mumbled and finally Azriel laughs — warm and convincing.

“Can’t do that to Cass, we both know I would look so much better.” You have to laugh, too, tugging a little harder on one strand. “We better not let Cassian know that, but you are right. I mean, I don’t think it is possible you get even more beautiful, but it might be the case. And I really don’t want to have to fight off more drooling females.”

Azriel huffs loudly and has to chuckle. “My territorial mate, huh?”

You manage to shrug one shoulder and Azriel says, “But you know that you are included in the drooling females?” “I don't drool!” you protest, actually knowing that drooling is totally what you do.

“I’ll remind you of that the next time I stand naked in front of you.” This slight cockiness that returns to him now…gods you love it. And it is so good that he is becoming more himself now again, no longer wrapped in the thoughts of his pasts, haunted by the memories.

“As if you don’t drool when your see my boobies,” you giggled and brush your chin against him. Azriel lifts his head slightly, turns and looks up at your. He smiles, warm and bright and meets your gaze. “I totally drool when I see you naked, every time actually, but I also did never deny that.” With that being clarified, Azriel kisses your cleavage, then pampers it in tiny pecks and lies back down.

“Thank you for being there for me,” Azriel says after a moment of silence. You blink your eyes open, sleep has started to overcome you. A yawn parts your lips and you mumble, “Nothing to thank me fore. I am always here for you, no matter what. Not because I am your mate, but because I love you. More than anything else in this world.”

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

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @cityofidek @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22 @valeriedarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123

#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar x reader #acotar #acosf

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nevertheless-moving · 2 months

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gnashing my teeth over vetinari and vimes in this au because you know what happens when you take 'not close but the closest another human can come to understanding me' and then give a thirty year headstart to the slower guy?

Harold, its just actually understanding . It's just understanding and being understood by another human, if only for brief, precious moments.

Sure vetinari understands vimes, that's not exceptional. (Except it is, it is, already so few knew him anymore, and now in the past again, having lost everything, everything - but this fresh faced dictator to be. This man who looks into people's souls and then gives vimes a double look).

But who really gets vetinari? Who else looks at children playing with garbage and sees the arteries of a world that could, must be? Who looks at pisstained ruins and sees the schools that will be built overlayed with every grueling step it will take to get there? Who's only weapon and only constraint is his own flesh and time, too much time, never enough time? Who has a Duty to The city beyond religious, ordained by the creator of their universe, something above gods and yet far, far beneath them.

Vimes doesnt need someone to direct his life. He's never needed that. Except holy shit he does, he definitely does, he needs a whole fucking support team but hes making less than minimum wage now. Give him something, anything to believe in.

Vetinari doesn't need to be believed in . He's never needed that. But he is still a man, and whoooo booooooy it is a heady thing to be trusted so recklessly, especially by someone like him, who mistrusts everything.

take that late canon Synergy, break it apart and then put it back together with a little bit more breathing room, a wee less intense power dynamics...!

Anyway they're friends. Best friends. By default possibly, since they don't have any other ones, but still. Two friends with souls too weathered for the lives their bodies have lived, bodies which are, at least at one point, and I'm not joking, teenage guys.

...

I just think they're neat.

...

Is it homerotic? Well first we have to remember that Samuel Vimes is doing Bad. We remember that? Ok. Now, let me ask you - is vimes the type of depressed that masturbates to feel something, or the type of depressed that cannot fathom human contact without pain. Exactly. It's like the cat that's both in the box and not or whatever. Sometimes one of them will be laying on the ground staring at the sky through the ceiling and the other will come and lay down next to him and their fingers will lightly brush against eachother and it will be the singular most intimate moment of not just their lives but also the life of the assassin that was watching in confusion from the window.

#Nightwatch au #discworld au #My au #discworld #Sam vimes #Honestly you could call this au 'everyone has a slightly better time than canon except for one cop specifically'#I CAN NOT EMPHASIZE THIS ENOUGH - THEY GO ON VETINARIS CANONICAL RICHBOY DISCWORLD EASTERN EUROPEAN BACKPACKING TRIP TOGETHER #The au could probably stand firm on that fact alone ngl

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after-witch · 6 months

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Horrorfest: Twist of Fate [Yandere Shigaraki x Reader]

Title: Twist of Fate [Yandere Shigaraki x Reader]

Synopsis: Were you always going to end up here, running, with death at your heels?

For Horrorfest request:

Happy Halloween! Could we see perhaps something like Shigaraki as Death? Some unstoppable force, bringing decay and destruction, while his love tries to run. But she cannot outrun death...

Word count: 450

notes: yandere, descriptions of death

How do you determine what events in your life were inevitable and which could be avoided?

For instance, the pavement you just tripped on--was it predetermined that you would take this specific path at this specific time, that your shoes would catch on the crack in the sidewalk, that you would stumble? Not enough to fall down, but just enough to slow your flight, to give him a few seconds to get closer to you?

Or could you have avoided this if you’d made a different decision? If you took a different path, if you saw the crack and jumped over it, if you were running 2 inches to the right and missed it entirely?

Maybe you could have avoided tripping altogether if you weren’t running for your life.

Ah, but then: wasn’t it inevitable that you would be running for your life, thus negating any choices within this inevitable experience?

Because there was no other outcome for you than to run for your life, quite literally.

Shigaraki Tomura was death himself, and death came for everyone.

Even you.

“You’re being stupid. Just give up, sweetheart.”

You hear his words spat from somewhere behind you--how far away is he?--but don’t turn or stop or think too hard about them. That’s what he wants. He wants you to waste your breath with arguments, even though you desperately need all of it to keep your body moving. To keep your blood and arms and legs pumping.

To keep running.

Not everyone was able to run. And it was your fault, wasn’t it, that he was tearing through the city; that he was reaching out and crumbling the lives of anyone who got in his way, knowingly or not? Because you refused him. Because you told him he was a sick fuck and you would never, ever love him. Because you ran from him

You can taste the dust of other people’s corpses in your mouth, blown by the wind. Sometimes when you round a corner you’re faced with evidence of his presence--piles of dust, dust, dust, where a person used to be.

Eventually, you hit a wall.

A literal one.

You’ve run out of places to run. You’ve run out of places to hide.

You hear his footsteps, his own labored breathing, making its way down the alley with deliberate slowness. You can smell his death and decay, like stains on his fingertips that won’t go away. A rot that has no doubt seeped into his bones, his soul.

Still, he goes slow. He doesn’t charge. He doesn’t taunt, though you’re sure it must be tempting.

Because he, too, knows that this was inevitable. You’ve just been delaying it… and for what, really, nothing at all.

All that’s left now is to decide: do you keep staring at the wall, or turn around and face him?

#yandere shigaraki #yandere tomura shigaraki #yandere bnha #yandere #afterwitch writes #aw horrorfest

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therabbitthatpostthings · 3 months

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I hope you all know I cannot for the life of me write fight scenes! OMG this took so long. Anyway....this is continuation of my Giyuu Secret Family AU story (I guess). She/Her Pronouns.

It had been another month since the last encounter with Giyuu’s “no-longer-a-secret” secret family. A bit of normalcy, or what the Hashira consider normal, set back in. That would be if Shinobu and Mitsuri had not just found Tomioka (Y/N) passed out down the road from Butterfly Mansion! They both rushed to her battered and bruised body. Shinobu could feel a full pulse on her neck. (Y/N) was alive, thankfully.

“We should send for Tomioka,” Mitsuri urged, hoisting (Y/N)’s limp body into her arms.

“No…”

“Lady Tomioka, please don’t strain yourself,” Shinobu advised. She ushered the two inside quickly. (Y/N)’s muttering was soon forgotten as the Butterfly Girls were quick to take her off Mitsuri’s hands. Mitsuri stood by, worried, as they started to bandage (Y/N).

Time seemed to move slower as they waited for her to wake up. They were both relieved to see (Y/N) sitting up and eating upon coming back to the room.

“Lady Tomioka! I’m glad you’re okay!” Mitsuri cheered.

“I’m the one that’s grateful you two found me.” She smiled. She gazed down at her bandaged arms. “For a demon so weak it’s blood demon art was no joke.”

“Both your arms have burns on them.” Shinobu said.

“Yeah, all the poison burned off in the sunrise.” She sighed.

“You defeated it this morning?” Shinobu asked.

(Y/N) smiled sheepishly, “It’s no big deal! I promise! My master says I get a little too carried away sometimes.”

It was an awkward position to be in now that’s the big secret is out. (Y/N) felt she should be more casual but how can one be casual with two Hashira in the room? Especially after they found you passed out. “Thank you, again…”

“It’s nothing Lady Tomioka-“

“(Y/N). It’s fine if you call me (Y/N).”

Shinobu smiled, “It’s nothing (Y/N), you’re very strong. I’ll send for Tomioka-”

“No!” (Y/N) yelled to the shock of both women. “Giyuu will worry himself sick if he sees me like this.”

Shinobu gave a sort of skeptical look, “I know he seems cold and hard to understand but Giyuu is the kindest soul I’ve ever met.”

Neither woman could deny her that. After all, he showed mercy to Kamado and his sister. A kindness they could never.

“You sound so in love,” Mitsuri smiled. “What drew you to Tomioka?”

A deep blush crept across (Y/N)’s face as she remembered their younger years, “Nothing at first, he was always kind to me but I started to notice… he was just like me.”

(Y/N) had been found wandering the forest alone and barefoot as a child. She didn’t remember her village or even her family name. She had a thousand yard stare, an emotional and unsettling demeanor for a child so young. It was clear to the swordsman who had found her that this child was the sole survivor of a demon attack and she would never be the same again.

“Our sword masters were both retired Hashira, we had never met though. He bought me dinner after my first big mission.”

—

(Y/N) thought that becoming a demon slayer would make life easier. As in being able to fight back but, you can’t fight against the motherly love of your Master’s wife. Even after giving some food to fellow slayers the bag at her side still did a number on her feet and shoulder. The dull ache did take away from the general anxiety that had plagued her since last night. Your crow, Chiyoko, delivered the news that you would be heading to a village down south to aid in their demon crisis. There was no mention of other slayers accompanying you. You were doing this alone.

It’s a daunting task and a heavy burden but, you were a demon slayer nonetheless. A friend of yours offered to come by once they wrapped up their mission in the next village east to yours. Still, that pit of anxiety wouldn’t leave. At least the heavy shifting of the bag from one shoulder to another gave you momentary relief as you came to a fork in the road.

“Good luck.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin! You quickly swung your sword in front of you ready to face the thing before but, you only saw a man. He looked your age, long dark hair tied back, deep blue eyes and a checkered haori. Something your master mentioned crossed your mind.

“Be on the lookout for Urokodaki’s student. He’s a Hashira…”

“Tomioka…Giyuu?” You say hesitantly, lowering your sword.

“Yes?”

Your face flushed a bright red. You were quick to sheath your sword and apologize to him. “I didn’t notice you this whole time! I’m so sorry!”

“No need.” He replied plainly, turning down the path opposite of yours.

“Um- Good luck!” You called back. He didn’t respond or turn around. That was probably for the best. You had embarrassed yourself enough. Chiyoko swooped back down and landed on your shoulder. “Did you hear any of that girl?”

“You’ll be at the village before nightfall!” She chirped.

“Ah, so it was that bad.”

—

The village was tucked away in the valley and surrounded by a cool mist.The trees swayed almost unnaturally like creeping hands trying to grab you. There had been no birds for a mile now. The forest fell quiet. All life had just stopped, not disappeared, just stopped. Something was there, you could feel it. Entering the village, it was smaller than you thought it would be. There were many people walking around, surely more than a few buildings could hold. The villagers went about their day completely unbothered by your presence. It was often you wouldn’t get recognized or acknowledged but the people here were treating you like you were invisible. Even when they bumped into you, they kept their heads down. The shoddily built houses loomed over you, held together with wooden beams and prayers. Not even the shops had signs hanging above them. You wandered aimlessly around the village or what seemed to remain of it. Just past the main commerce area was the renents of a house. The dirt seemed to be swirled in the giant crater. More were haphazardly littered across down the road towards the forest. You finally found what you thought would be an inn and was met by a young girl with braided pigtails.

“Hello? Do you have a room for the night?” You asked.

She stared at you blankly, examining you. Wordlessly she walked from behind the desk and beckoned you to follow her. The halls were quiet but you felt the peering eyes from behind the closed doors. “It sure is misty outside, is it always like that?”

She stayed silent.

“A-Are your parents not home? Do you run this whole place by yourself?”

“You ask too many questions.” she said plainly. She pulled the door open and ushered you to go inside. “You should leave tomorrow.”

“Why’s that?” you asked.

She sighs with a slight twitch of the eyebrow. She goes to turn back into the hall and you grab onto her arm, “Is there somewhere here you’re afraid of? Someone that can hear you if you say too much?”

She snatched her arm back and hurried back down the hall. You quietly closed the door back and listened for any noise. The inn settled and all was quiet again.

Is it in the Inn? No, there are people here, they are still alive. Is this its resting place during the day? It’s near the destroyed houses…

“Here you go Chiyoko,” you handed her a small note. “Maybe the next village will have something for you to eat. Be back soon.” Watching Chiyoko fly off into the sunset, you resigned yourself to a very eventful night.

Investigating proved to be hellish. No one wanted to talk, not even the children. It was like everyone was trained to be quiet?! Just how strong was this demon? You couldn’t even buy something from the shop without ominous stares and the clerk, all too happy to usher you out. Upon exploring the surrounding forest, the road from the village led deeper out and only welcomed more crater and debris. By the looks of it all, the demon was luring people deeper into the town. At this rate everyone was as good as dead. The forest proved to be just as creepy. The trees stretched abnormally high in the sky, if they had any leaves they would have blocked out the setting sun. The surrounding area lacked any life or color, like after a fire.

Before you could react a jagged tree branch shot out and grabbed your leg. It swung you around violently as she tried to swing your sword at the branch. You were able to slice it and the tree let out a loud hiss and shriveled into a pile of ash. “Show yourself!”

You heard a giggle circle around you. The vine tightened as a figure appeared from the shadows. It had a dark body that stretched as tall as the trees it hid behind. It’s long, spindly arm came out to hold your face, “What a pretty one you are.”

You yanked your head away from its grasp, “I might just let you live if you leave this village now!”

“You little swordsmen don’t scare me.” They laughed. You felt a tug. The ground opened up and the vines started to pull you down into the earth. You thrashed wildly against the vines as they pulled your body underground. The light faded and all you felt was the cold dirt. You could feel the vines pulling you down. You struggled to hold your breath and your sword as the vines began to speed up. You finally caught your breath as you were dropped into an underground cave. You cursed as you coughed up the dirt.

“Another one..” someone whispered. There was a small group of people, dirty and their clothes ripped. They huddled on the other side of the cave. Behind you were decomposing bodies wrapped in vines, their only remains were the black demon slayer uniforms they wore. You stifle a scream and back onto your feet. The people jolted back as you did. The cave wasn’t too big. You were completely surrounded on all sides. The roof was interconnected with vines all converging to the one large hole that the vines came from.

“How long have you all been down here?” You asked.

“A week, at least I think so.” The older man spoke up. “However, that thing has been hunting us for months. It started out slow with someone going missing but then it got stronger.”

“The monster destroyed our homes and took us in our sleep.” A woman said.

So that’s it… You asked, “How often does that hole open up?”

“Every night.” she replied “He brings back whatever he didn’t eat here.”

You drew your sword back, “I don’t have that kind of time.”

You started to hack away at the vines around the body. If he won’t come down here, you will fo to him! You were able to cut one loose and it made the same hissing noise. The vine around the body started to rot and turn to black ash. All that remained were broken bones. The vines still descending from the earth started to retract. You grabbed onto it and wrapped it around your wrist pulling it further and further down. “Come on you coward!”

“Miss please!” a young boy called out. “He’ll eat you!”

“If I don't! He’ll eat all of you!” The vine started to tighten around your wrist but you still kept pulling back. “I will not let this demon terrorize anyone anymore!”

The hole opened up wide and pulled you up through the dirt. Your body was slammed onto the surface. “I hate slayers like yourself, you never know when to lie over and die!”

You got to your feet and took off running towards him, swinging at his arms. The demon’s vines sliced through the air. Trees cracked under the weight of both of your attacks. The tree twisted and bent as it lunged at it and struck the ground. The ground shook and shot up from under you. The trees spiraled around you, crunching at the earth where you stood. You jumped from one to the other and slid down the vines. You could see the demon at the bottom, still attached to the roots. You drew your sword back and swung it towards its head!

The demon let out a wicked cackle as you saw its body reattach itself. “You cannot kill me as easily.”

“I-I…I missed.”

The demon broke out into a fit of laughter, almost doubling over, “You should have stayed down there to die!”

More trees shot into the air and you were quick to slice them all, with a loud hiss. The ash clouded the air and hung heavy in your chest as you landed. The demon stood before you, its feet and arms spread into tree trunks that buried itself into the ground. You coughed, “Spores- really?”

“What will you do, little slayer? I won’t be moved.” he sneered.

Just what the hell does it take to kill this thing! How do you kill a tree!?

The demon swung its arm towards you and knocked you back into another tree. This started to coil around your leg but you quickly cut it off and watched it hiss. The realization set in. The demon had hunched forward with its arms and legs retracting into the ground. Around its body are two lanky trees that twisted and coiled into the air like tentacles. You steadied yourself on the ground in preparation. No matter what happened you knew you couldn’t last until morning, especially since most of these trees seemed to be part of its control and they held up just fine in the sunlight. You couldn’t wait for your friend in the next town over either. These people solely depended on you. You took a deep breath to steady yourself.

“Giving up demon slayer?” he sneered.

I can do this… I can do this!

You pushed yourself off your back foot and took a running start towards the closet decrepit tree and sliced it. Then to another. Another, and another. The demon’s branches swung towards you and coiled around yourself and trees still standing. You raised it towards its body to slice on the lanky tree branches. The other was able to grab you by your leg and while it dragged you towards it you plunged the sword into it. The demon finally let out a loud screech as it turned to reach for you. The incoming vines sliced in two across your blade as you gained distance on the demon still planted firmly in the ground. The demon started to get frantic, sending more vines out to try and slow you down but to no avail. He lost sight of you amongst the tangle of vines. A sharp pain jolted in his lower half as one of his roots was severed from the earth. One after another he tried desperately to call what trees he still controlled to his aid. The one remaining tree was able to coil around your legs and sling you into the air. Before the demon could try to reattach his root your blad came down across its neck. The head rolled a ways away and disappeared into dust, as did the one tree remaining and the roots.

You breathed heavily as adrenaline was still rushing towards you. Your head was ringing, you almost didn’t process the voice calling to you. “(Y/N)! (Y/N) are you okay?!”

Your friend caught you as you almost fell over. “Masato..?”

“Oh (Y/N), I was so worried about you!” She hugged you tightly. “The demon, is it gone?!”

“It is…” You breathed out. “Go alert the villagers please, we need to dig the survivors out.”

“Okay! Please rest!” she said and turned to other slayers you didn’t notice were there either. Out from the sky came a familiar fluttering. Chiyoko nuzzled up against your cheek with worried chirps.

“Did I worry you Chiyoko, I’m sorry. Thank you for coming back for me.”

—

The village erupted in laughter and cries. So many worried families reunited with each other. The villagers couldn’t thank you enough. They showered you with treats and prayers and gratitude. The little inn girl even thanked you for returning her family. It would all be greater if you were so exhausted. Your feet ached on the path back home. You couldn’t wait to be bandaged up and sleep. Masato and the other slayers said their goodbyes as you came upon the split in the road. She smiled, “Get back home safely.”

“I will.” you sighed “Are you sure you don’t need me to tag along?”

“Nah, we’re meeting up with some others later on. You get home and sleep (Y/N).” Masato stated before going off down the road. You kinda just stood there for a moment, taking everything in. Though your shoulders still felt heavy with tiredness You felt lighter somehow. You had a jumping feeling in the pit of your stomach even though you couldn’t bring your feet to move. You saved those people. They looked so happy because you saved them. It felt nice but heavy. That was the best way to explain it, a heavy feeling you knew was good because it helped others but only you got to shoulder it. It will pass. You would fight another demon. It would come back and then pass again. And maybe, hopefully, the good feeling would last a little more.

Your thoughts left you as you heard someone walk towards you. To your shock it was Tomioka! You looked slightly surprised to see you, or at least a little bit interested. Hard to tell with him. “Are you done with your mission?” he asked.

“Y-Yeah, I am.” You started to walk forward with him. “How was your mission?”

“Fine,” he replied blankly, “Yours?”

“It was rough but I pulled through.” You were very unsure how long you should speak. Tomioka didn’t seem like the type to meander on. It was very awkward.

“You’re fast then.”

—

“And that was the extent of our conversation all the way back.” (Y/N) smiled.

“That sounds…so…like him,” Shinobu gave a half playful, half pitiful laugh. Even she had some hope that his spouse had a much more romantic meeting with him. It made way too much sense for him to be that awkward.

(Y/N) giggled, “Well I was only a Kanoe at the time, so I guess finishing at the speed of a Hashira was impressive. By the time we made it back I was starving and I came straight here.”

(Y/N) recounted seeing Giyuu talk outside the Butterfly Mansion with Rengoku. As the Flame Hashira walked away Giyuu bluntly asked if she was hungry. He admitted that Urokodaki has told him to look out for her but he had forgotten for two months and felt bad once he finally saw her. She was in such a bad shape that getting a hot meal from Giyuu calmed her nerves. He told her, “Come to me if you have a problem or want to eat again.”

“We became great friends from that point.”

Mitsuri felt her cheeks burn up as she watched (Y/N) smile. “Aw! You two are just too cute!”

#giyuu tomioka x reader #giyuu x reader #giyuu tomioka #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #tomioka giyu x reader #tomioka giyuu #writing fanfics at 3 am #cringe-#no beta we die like men #Giyuu Secret Family AU #demon slayer oc #kny oc #I suffered for this btw #it isn't even 3am #it's 5AM #shinobu kocho #mitsuri kanroji

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avocado-writing · 7 months

Note

Hiii <3 I'm the anon that tumblr ate out- I mean I'm the anon that got their request eaten by tumblr. I'm going to send it again but please don't feel like you have to write it at all!

Basically it was just:

Crowley x wife!reader where human reader nearly dies during the London Blitz so Crowley miracles her into living forever as a type of vampire (he's a demon idk). So now Aziraphale, Reader, and Crowley are friends (possibly more by the time we get to the bookshop)

notes: HEY I AM SO SORRY I MADE THIS SO FUCKING ANGSTY. please forgive me. it just felt like the perfect setup for a bite of sadness.

pairing: crowley x f!reader

rating: T

notes: mentions of death

“You shouldn’t do this.”

Crowley knows. He knows that Aziraphale is not wrong for a number of reasons: his head office will notice, it’s against the rules, he’ll get in dreadful dreadful trouble. Demons aren’t meant to meddle in the mortality of humans. But then again demons aren’t meant to marry humans either, and he did that anyway too.

It’s your tenth anniversary today. He can picture the wedding like a photograph in his memory: your white dress, your red lips, the huge smile you wore all day like it was stuck to your face. Impossible for you to get rid of.

He braved the pain of a church to marry you in it, then swept you off to bed to take his mind off his burning feet.

Ten years. Ten happy years. Ten years of your gorgeous, gorgeous smile. He knew it wouldn’t be forever, but he thought that he’d at least have longer to work out what he was going to do when the time came. But there was no way you could have predicted where the bomb would land, the explosion it would cause, the shrapnel that would end up shredding your stomach.

He told you to leave London and you refused to. You refused to leave him.

Now blood soaks through your clothes onto his. You’re lifeless in his arms. Covered in brickdust and mortar. Smile gone.

In that moment he realises that he can’t continue existing without it.

“Crowley…”

“Shut it,” he snaps, far more fiercely than he should, and he’ll apologise to Aziraphale for it later… but for now, he does something very reckless indeed.

He summons the miracle from hell. It’s a big one, to snatch a soul out of the aether as it tries to slip away, but he’s a very powerful demon. He grabs the hazy edges of your spirit with his hand and slams it back into your body. There’s a surge of energy as the two parts of you reconnect, and in a shaky spasm you twitch horribly back to life.

“There she is. There’s my girl,” he whispers, cupping your face. As you work out how to breathe again Aziraphale watches in silence. There is nothing for him to say.

He manages to get away with it. Hell isn’t known for its incredible paper trail after all, and it’s pretty easy for him to mislay the documents that prove he ever did such a huge miracle at all. You’re alive again and there are no repercussions.

From head office, anyway.

Aziraphale eventually comes to accept the decision, and the two of you actually end up quite good friends. In fact Crowley feels quite ganged up on sometimes. You’re constantly at the bookshop helping shoo away customers and hunting down good deals for old tomes on ebay. You’ve learned to grow with the times.

But still.

There are times where you seem… distant. He’ll catch you staring out a window, seemingly a million miles away from your body. You don’t blink as much as you should since he brought you back. You don’t breathe as hard either, your chest only raising and falling about once a minute. There’s something not the same.

He cannot bring himself to admit that you came back wrong.

Every time Crowley will come over and give you a gentle kiss, bringing you out of your stupor. You’ll shake your head and return to the moment.

“You alright, sweetheart?” he’ll ask.

“Oh, yes. Of course I am,” you’ll reply, and you’ll smile.

But your smile is never quite right.

taglist: @angiestopit@dazed-soul@foolishprincipalitee@smile-eywa@staygoldsquatchling02@underratedboogeyman@specter-soltare@cool-ontherun-world@emilynissangtr@willbedecided@cool-iguana@this--is--music @ilyatan @lxsm2@clarina04@wtfhasmy-lifecometo@mrgatotortuga@wereallbrokenangels @night-affiliate @kimqueenofhell@chewbrry @bajablast23 @h3k3t@am-i-obsessed---maybe

#request #crowley x reader #david tennant x reader

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vasito-de-leche · 4 months

Note

okay I read your analysis on Forget Me Not and I'm in tears now thank you. (No but really thank you, it's such a touching piece.) Can you PLEASE for salvation of our fans souls write anything to like,,, give him hope? Forget Me Not x reader but it doesn't have to be actually all-out with hugs and kisses. We may,,,,,,,, just show him a new hobby? Any hobby of your choosing or idk play an instrument together. Just to give him something else to focus on, to channel at least part of his energy from self-destructive activities to something less hurtful. I'd personally like to bandage his (not actually wounded but still) hands as if they were bleeding. Something of the kind. Sorry for mistakes writing is incredibly inconvenient cuz tears aaa.

;R1999 FORGET ME NOT - "hands, fingers, scales"

Forget Me Not x Reader. 2.3k words. self-harm implied You've befriended Forget Me Not the same one befriends a rabid, beaten, old dog. And while he's much too busy fighting his inner demons, you're more worried about stopping these "pernicious habits" of his. A casual afternoon trying to make sure he's taking care of himself turns into something deeper.

thank you so much for the ask, nonnie!!

I got a little carried away with this request because thinking about how fucking insufferable and confusing FMN has to be just to indulge in HAND HOLDING and GETTING A FUCKING HOBBY made me so deranged and feral as if hes not fucking TOUCHSTARVED lmfao. this guy's love language is straight up worshipping, mf is not subtle about it

either way, hope you like it! here's the lil preview!

Sometimes, Forget Me Not understands the reason men and women kneel at the pew to worship and pray.

Devotion is something arcanists and humans share, whether honest or not. He's witnessed the rich and the poor, the pure and the depraved, and every binary that rules this world - all of them begging, pleading and praying at the end of their lives, casting away the pride they've held on for so long for the chance of salvation. Once stripped down to their core, there is nothing to do but hope God has enough love in His heart to look their way.

And sometimes, Forget Me Not prays that you’ll find someone else - anyone but him - to fill the role of devotee.

The gentleness in your eyes whenever you look at him is enough to bring him to his knees, and Forget Me Not doesn't know what to do with himself but to worship and pray. Praying that you'll continue to look at him for a little longer, silently begging for your attention until you finally tire of him. Do you think yourself holy enough to replace the vitriol in his veins?

He does.

On good days, he even hopes that you can save him.

You never asked him to become your one and only believer, of course. You're not even aware of the space you take in his mind, nor the conflicting images he keeps conjuring of you at night, he's certain of this. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here, holding his hands and inspecting them for any injuries. This role is one of the many self-imposed tragedies in his life.

Your thumbs knead and massage his palm, as if you could soothe the pain away, and yet you refrain from pressing down hard. He's at your mercy, why hesitate? What do you see that he cannot?

Something is bothering you. It's obvious in the way you touch him, like you're afraid of hurting him, as if you were the one with a body count between the two. Every so often, your movements come to a halt and you both sit in silence, until you return to your ministrations, filling the nothingness with your sighing and humming.

All he needs is to look up, right at your face, to know everything he wants to know - but he's too much of a coward for that. Instead, light grey eyes follow your index finger as it slides under the cuffs of his shirt. You trace over the bone of his wrist and continue upwards.

He can't tear his eyes away.

Normally, Forget Me Not wouldn't mind. There is an addictive thrill to witnessing the shock of anyone who dares get so close and personal, but he feels himself shrink when you brush against his scales and recoil away on instinct. That's when he raises his head and finds your eyes in the dimly lit staff room.

That expression on your face - surely, you were regretting every choice that led you to him. By now, you might've surely realized that there is nothing for you to salvage in this shipwreck he calls a life. All attempts to check on him were surely a façade for whatever ulterior motives you continued to withhold from him. He's stubborn, believing that he can read you like an open book, but now he's just as lost as you are. When he opens his mouth to speak, you beat him to it and he grows a little restless at your words.

"Sorry, sorry! Did I, uh, hurt you? Dumb question, you would've definitely told me if that were the case. Anyway, it looks like you're okay! I don't know why I was so worried, actually."

His silence prompts you to continue, and all Forget Me Not can focus on is the absence of your warmth.

You raise a hand to gesture dismissively at your behaviour, brush it off to ease your embarrassment, that much he understands - though it's painful to watch you fumble like that, to deny what he hides under his clothes. Forget Me Not thinks of filling the space between your fingers with his own, just to drag you back to that quiet, albeit suffocating, moment of peace. Instead of doing that, he retreats and places both hands neatly on his lap.

"Thanks for indulging me and, yeah uh, again - sorry about that? It just caught me off guard. I should've been more careful."

But you were never careful with his space or his rules, plunging in and out of his life and leaving him to figure out where he stood in his game of push and pull. Why were you being careful now?

"It's nothing, I understand," he lies. Everything you do means the world to him and he doesn't even understand why. "It cannot hurt to know what sort of things the person pouring your drinks might be hiding under their sleeves."

The word "hypocrite" lingers at the tip of his tongue, threatening to spill out with as much venom as he can muster, but it stays lodged behind his teeth because he knows he's even worse: Forget Me Not prays that you'll stay with him, while also opening the door right out his life for you. As much as he wants to, he has no right of calling you out.

He's not used to receiving apologies and so he chooses not to think too hard on yours - though he's dreamed countless of times for the perfect situation in which he finally rips out one apology after another from the throats of those who wronged him, this one feels different. Undeserved, even.

His heart, that wretched lump in his chest, finally settles down and he prepares to end this interaction to save you the awkwardness of addressing his "deformities". But then you go and surprise him once more.

"Come on, I already told you..." You sigh and he inhales in tandem, but you're much too busy rolling your eyes to notice. "That whole thing you do, when you start scratching or, like, picking at your hand? You've been doing it more lately. It had me worried you might've been doing, I don't know - something."

Forget Me Not's eyes widen in surprise. The audacity to notice such things about him? And to put them on display without a warning? What else did you find out?

Part of him wants him to embrace his nature and scare you away, but that's the side of him that's been slowly losing this battle of attrition in his heart - you're a bad influence for him, after all. The other part... Well, it's still trying to sort itself out.

He settles for slowly undoing the buttons on his sleeve. It only takes a moment to roll up the fine fabric to his elbow, knowing you're staring right at him, through him maybe. The expression on his face is one of indifference, one he fights to maintain - this is the most vulnerable he's felt in decades.

That unsightly pattern begins exactly where his sleeves usually end, coiling around his forearm not unlike a snake and traveling upwards. The scales are dark, an iridescent black that reminds him of an oil spill in the middle of the ocean, and the ones at the edges fade away into lighter hues until they mix with the pale, sickly tone of his skin. He knows the sort of beauty he holds, one that can only be admired at a distance, turning into a grotesque imitation of a man when up close.

Forget Me Not presents himself to you and, with his free hand, gets ready to pluck one of the scales off.

"Wait, don't do that-!"

Seizing his arm and holding it close to your chest, you deprive him of the catharsis that comes with this level of self-mutilation. He knows you're connecting the dots, feeling the scattered, empty spaces from all the times you saw him pick himself apart and more. Your fingers brush against his bare skin looking for said spaces, counting them in your head, mourning their loss.

Some scales are in the process of regrowing like unwanted parasites, and he wishes he could feel anything at all just to be closer to you.

"God, what is wrong with you?! What was the point of that?"

Something compels him to laugh (perhaps it's your heartbeat reaching out to him loud and clear through your clothes, he feels it faintly) it comes across as sinister and condescending, the only way he knows how to express joy. Like he's making fun of your concern.

"Apologies," Forget Me Not begins to say, readjusting his glasses. The way you try to keep his own arm out of his reach doesn't go unnoticed. It's such a petty, childish gesture that makes his grin widen and your frown deepen. "I was under the impression you found this little oddity distasteful. There's no need to worry - they will return in a few days, they always do."

"Still, don't do that. It's not funny. It must...hurt a lot."

"Ah, but it doesn't. If else, I'd compare it to being pricked by a very small needle."

"You're just going to find something to nitpick and contradict everything I say, aren't you?" It's the least he can do to repay all the headaches you've given him, and for forgiving his transgressions too easily.

An intrusive thought makes itself known from the depths of his mind - would you forgive him just as readily if he were to kill someone in front of you? If he showed you just how destructive his arcane skills could be when given free reign? Where would you draw the line? And how much could he continue to push his luck before he lost you?

Before Forget Me Not realizes it, you've loosened your grip on his arm and returned to that previous moment of suffocating peace - the only difference is that you've gone from being deep in thought to troubled and miserable, one hair away from darting out the room and refusing to speak to him. At this, his pinky finger wraps around yours and neither of you mention it.

"Can't you... I don't know, do something else?"

"I could be doing my job, but alas, you're keeping me prisoner here." He says, like he's not delighted to be given your undivided attention. There are no complaints when you step on his foot with a huff, he deserved that one.

"I'm talking about the scales thing! You could wear gloves. If it happens when you get distracted then, I could hang around to make sure you stop in time." A pause, and then the sound of your voice becomes unsure and so very small. "Maybe if we covered them with bandages...? But that could be annoying. Band aids? No, no - too unprofessional. It would ruin the whole aesthetic you're going for."

You continue to trail off, coming up with many different ideas and solutions to a problem he caused. He doesn't understand why you'd even bother in the first place. For you to reciprocate the attention he gives you, to care about him? That's the hardest pill Forget Me Not has ever swallowed - it's something he twirls around with his tongue, as if deciding whether to poison himself with bliss or spit it out and continue latching on to his doubts and insecurities.

Outside, in front of everyone at The Walden, he's the one leading the crowd and talking for hours on end, commanding their attention and manipulating the flow of every conversation.

Behind closed doors, all he does is listen to every nonsensical thought, unnecessary opinion and strange anecdote you throw at him.

"...No, that won't work either." Absentmindedly, you fix and button his sleeve back into place.

You've grown used to his silence the same way you've adapted and grown used to his flaws.

"I mean, it worked on me - getting a little slap on the wrist whenever I started biting my nails, but..." Without even thinking, you rub circles with your thumb across his knuckles.

You might as well be the stupidest angel in heaven.

"Why don't you just get a hobby? That's good enough, right? It's been so long since I've heard you play piano, the one by the stage." And just like that, you're on your feet attempting to drag him outside for a demonstration. "You could teach me! That way, we get to do something fun and I get to keep an eye on you."

Forget Me Not knows he has nothing to offer to this world, but when his saint looks at him with such hope, he cannot refuse. The path to recovery seems almost doable when you bump your shoulder into his, challenging him to play the hardest song he knows.

The stars in your eyes whenever you recognize all the songs he plays becomes intoxicating, more so than the sweet, sweet revenge he's yearned for since he spiraled into decadence.

Some days, his patrons join with their own singing or humming, and he forgets that he hates each and every one of them for as long as his fingers dance across the keys - a momentary reprieve from the constant stream of negativity. It doesn't take long for his body to remember his training and soon, he's improvising.

A melody for gloomy, rainy days. A whimsical tune here and there for celebrations.

A song for you and himself - the first one he teaches you and the only one he plays in private, when he's all alone with nothing but his thoughts. Solitude has gone from a noose wrapped around his neck to the perfect time to compose and hone this long forgotten passion. For the first time in forever, he doesn't dread the silence of an empty room, the endless wait between his shifts at The Walden - not when he can simply fill them with more and more music.

And so, Forget Me Not plays, hoping that you'll continue to cheer him on. Hoping that this tiny spark you've ignited in him can truly become his salvation.

#reverse 1999 #reverse: 1999 #r1999 #reverse 1999 x reader #reverse 1999 fanfic #reverse 1999 forget me not #forget me not #outing myself as a huge fuckin religion/devotion as a metaphor for relationships freak #and as a hand freak as well. love it when the smallest acts of intimacy are the BIGGEST FUCKING DEALS for characters who are touchstarved #i love writing reader inserts from the pov of the character instead of the reader like #what goes in their head and shit??? THE INNER MONOLOGUES AND DRAMA ?????#FORGET ME NOT'S WHOLE ACT IS A COVER FOR THE FUCKING MESS HE IS WHEN YOU LOOK AT HIMMMMM!!!!!!!#soggiest wettest most pathetic man at manus vindictae #i hope i got his whole fuckin two faced and contradicting mentality across. mf is not having a good time healing but my GOD hes. trying #he hates you but he loves you but god he hates you so much but yeah he'll still worship the ground you walk on #the title is a pun btw. scales. musical scales. his snake scales #IM VERY SMART

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gretavanfleetposts · 4 months

Text

Fire in the Water: Chapter Ten - Part Two

Author's Note: I cannot believe the end is already here. The end of this chapter is very inspired by the song Better by SYML so give that a listen if you want to dive further into my brain. And thank you, thank you all for coming along on the journey with me. It has meant everything to me! And as always, thank you to @gretasmokerising and @earthlysorrows for everything Content Warnings: swearing, talk of the afterlife, death, talk of dead souls, killing (someone straight up turns to dust), penetrative sex (18+ minors do not interact) Word Count: 9.5k

It wasn't easy. You spent days sitting almost completely still in Jake's bed trying to decipher who in the room around you was there in physical form and who was a dead spirit walking. You spent your days tired as your physical form wasn't used to being, well, alive. You weren't meant for the world you were now in and it took its toll.

But even more difficult was the anger growing in your body like wildfire that would catch the moment you bound to Jake and your gifts returned. It was the reason you hadn't yet done it. You knew however much you struggled now, it would be nothing compared to that. And it scared you.

Jake was by your side every instant but without his own gifts, he was punished to sit at your side helplessly, watching the torment flare in your eyes and only ever being able to tell you who was in the corner, if anyone was there at all. It pained him being unable to put you out of your misery and you could guess that it pained him to be unable to put himself out of his misery too.

It was days that you spent wandering around his house silently, trying to remember who you had been, trying to decipher the things around you and the things inside of you. Days you spent trying to piece together memories with Jake’s help, though he couldn’t fill very many gaps for you given the stubbornness you’d lived with the first time you’d been alive. And the longer the days went on, the clearer it became to both of you, although it went unsaid: Sam was the one better suited to help you navigate the situation you now found yourself in. Sam could have given you more answers and more details of your life. Sam could have shut the voices up and cleared the room of all intruders.

The others kept their distance all the while, other than Josh. He was more than happy to recant your relationship and the months you had spent together before your meeting any of the others. His presence alone had warmed you, too, but when he left, the angry voices returned with a vengeance. You were forever connected to a world that you now didn't reside in, stuck in a world that you didn't belong to, and a bridge between the two for all things, evil and vile and sometimes, when you were lucky, benevolent, to pass through.

Endless. It was endless.

Until you overheard the twins speaking in low voices from just beyond Jake's French doors after a particularly bad day that you had spent sleeping through most of, intermittently waking with a scream as a breath that was cold and dead fanned over your face.

Endless.

“I called Sam,” you heard Josh say softly to his brother.

“What the fuck, Josh?”

Jake seemed to forget he was supposed to be quiet and his brother shushed him before explaining himself.

“He has a right to know. She has a right to see him. He was the last person she was with, Jake.”

“She isn't ready.”

“She needs him right now,” Josh answered, hushed but urgent. “We both know it. He was the one who taught her how to be a vampire. He's the one she needs now.”

“Don't you fucking say that. Please don't fucking-don't say that.”

Jake's voice cracked and you could hear the instant sigh it pulled from his twin, just as harrowed as Jake was when he let his brother see it.

“Jake, you're never going to lose me, no matter what. And no matter what happens, I will help you get through it. But you can't put this off. She is hurting and I can’t watch it go on much longer.”

“I can't do it.”

Those words chiseled away at you as did the voice that had squeaked out and said them.

“You promised me you would give her the choice. Rebecca is itching to leave. We need to do this now.”

“Josh, I-”

“I won't let you fall apart. But you have to trust me.”

You waited for one of them to speak again but a silence fell between them both for what felt like a long moment. It carried over to you as you contemplated your own feelings. You were angry with Jake over what he had done. It was undeniable and it was growing fierce inside you. But had the roles been reversed, you would have done the same thing.

Finally you watched the doors open and shut behind them both as each twin made their way over to where you sat in Jake's bed. But Jake seemed to distance himself in a way that Josh didn’t. Josh met you where you sat, standing at the end of the bed with a singular hand coming to grab the top of your foot where it rested beneath the covers. He’d formed a habit of giving you a physical cue that he was there in the flesh over the past few days you’d spent reaching for things that weren’t actually there.

Jake, on the other hand, propped himself up against the wall opposite his bed like he was afraid to get any closer. He seemed to be preparing himself for the hurt he must have suspected he would find in the conversation. And you understood that physical distance. It was an emotional wall he was already building.

But even so, Jake was the one to speak first despite the fact that his feet planted him farther away than Josh's did.

“We…we need to talk,” he began slowly.

He struggled to even say it. He struggled to even meet your eyes. And when he did speak, you could tell he was reluctant.

"Rebecca can break the tie," he whispered.

Maybe he hoped you wouldn't hear it.

You sat still for a moment before adjusting yourself and pulling your body into a more upright position, your eyes studying Jake's face all the while.

"What would happen to you?" you asked.

"It would be as if I'd never formed it. For the both of us. And our gifts would be restored."

Your eyes flickered over to Josh quickly before falling to your lap.

To break your tie. It would at least put Jake out of his misery, although you could see the damage it would do before you'd even done it. It practically sat in the room with you, like heavy, judgmental eyes casting shadows over everything.

"You would choose this?" you pressed, and Jake immediately shook his head.

"No. But it's not my choice to make; it's yours.”

His eyes sent a scalding glare toward the back of Josh's head who came to sit on the edge of the bed next to you, his hand now lying flat over yours.

"It isn't either of us that you would pick,” he said softly. “I think we all see that now.”

God, you had ached for Sam. You had tried not to dwell on it but it had become so obvious that even Jake felt it as you sat silently day after day. You burned for him. You needed him. And you were angry with yourself for all of it because the pain that wrote itself onto Jake’s features as his brother said it felt worse than the nightmare you now lived.

“How is she able to do it?”

“You died tied but unbound,” Jake answered, still not meeting your eyes. “Rebecca wasn't even sure we'd still be tied when you returned but seeing as I still don't have my gifts…”

“The tie is weaker now,” Josh continued where his brother left off. “It's vampire magic, apparently. And you're not entirely vampire anymore, are you?”

You weren't. You were even more of an abomination now and your fingers twitched with anger when you let your mind linger on it for too long.

“You keep resurrecting something that's supposed to be dead,” you whispered, keeping your eyes to your lap.

Although you hardly needed to have been staring at Jake to feel the weight of your words and what they did to him. Even Josh seemed to feel it given the way he glanced backward sympathetically at his brother before moving his eyes back to you.

He dipped his face down to try and catch your eyes. “If you bind with Jake, you'll live a happy life. Break it, and you can have whatever it is you want.” And then he sighed and pursed his lips. “We were wrong for trying to put you in a box before. No one is trying to do that now. The decision is yours and yours alone.”

He made it seem so easy when he said it that way, like it was a simple decision and all you had to do was reach out and pick a hand. The reality would be much more complicated, however, because by choosing one, you would give up the other. And if you were destined to walk the earth again, subjected to all that that now encompassed, the question was: who could you no longer live without?

"Can I speak with Jake alone please?” you asked Josh quietly.

He nodded quickly. “Yeah, absolutely. If you need me just…come find me. I'll be close.”

With a single squeeze to your hand, he left silently, pulling the doors shut with only a glance toward his brother before he was out of sight. And in his absence, you pulled yourself from Jake's bed, feet wobbling a little as you gained your balance.

Jake met your eyes silently, watching you stand and pull together what little strength you had left. And he looked just as beaten down as you felt.

“He tried to take himself after. Sam did. When you were…gone, he turned it in on himself but Cassius stopped him. I didn't understand why but maybe I do now. Cassius doesn't play short games.”

The replaying of the memory you didn't want burned into your mind ignited an anger within you, the likes of which you hadn't felt before. It came on suddenly but burned hot in your palms and in your ears.

“Why couldn't you just let me die a natural death? Why couldn't you just let me stay dead?” Your voice was quiet and calm but your fists clenched hard to reel yourself in before you unraveled.

Jake shook his head hard and swallowed, like he was mad at himself or maybe remembering someone else who had accused him of such atrocities.

“I'm selfish,” he whispered so lightly, even with your super hearing you barely hear it.

You were silent but it wasn’t your silence that put Jake on edge. It was your stillness. Your calm. It was somehow scarier to him than your anger. Much more resigned. It was like you had already chosen what it was you wanted.

“Tell me what you're feeling,” he pleaded quietly.

“I don't know,” you answered flatly.

“Don't hide from me-”

“I said I don't know!” you suddenly boomed. And when you glowered at him, he saw a darkness there that he had never seen before, a remnant of something he could never even understand.

“I feel different! I feel things for you that I don't trust! I feel like an abomination! Like-like a rag doll being jerked around by the will of others! I feel empty and I feel a hole in the middle of my chest knowing that Sam is gone and I feel so ashamed to stand here and tell you that he is the only one who makes me feel like I'm not just some grotesque product of your inability to let me go. He's the only one who makes me feel like I am something other than the consequences of your grief.”

His face sank and you could tell you had hurt him in a way that he had never really experienced before. If he'd had his gifts, he might have shielded himself from it. But this way, he had no choice but to feel it. He had no choice but to bleed out in front of you. And it gnawed at you to know that you were the cause, truthful as you had been.

“Then you should be with him. You should,” he said finally, clearing his throat to hide the way his voice threatened to break. “Because I will never be able to let you die. I will never be able to let you go willingly. Never.”

“No, you won't,” you answered meanly. “You couldn't even do it when we weren't tied.”

He shook his head, practically scoffing in frustration and incredulity.

“How could you have asked that of me?”

“It was peaceful, Jake!” you screamed back, your own voice hoarse and losing its tenacity. “I was at peace! He gave me that! And you ripped it from me so violently so that you didn't have to feel it! You feel everything and you face nothing!”

His face seemed to harden instantly.

“You're right,” he agreed, “Sam did something I never would have been able to do, not really. Not if I could have felt it.”

You said nothing but you felt the sigh as your lungs pulled it up and out of your body. It was an endless fight. He would never understand what he had done. He would never understand the things that had drawn you to Sam as you had gotten to know him. Jake had always been right out in front of you but Sam? Sam had always been at your back, practically holding you up as you went about life and navigated things that scared you, even when the thing that scared you was yourself.

“You know, I've held you dead in my arms twice now. I didn't think anything could ever hurt me like that again. But this? This somehow feels even worse.”

“That's not fair,” you whispered through clenched teeth. “I did that for you. I died for you. And I would do it a million times over if I had to.”

His eyes fell shut and he breathed deeply before opening them again to face you and the mess he had helped create.

“But you still wouldn't choose me,” was all he said.

You felt your anger turn to guilt so quickly it could have given you whiplash. And it rendered you speechless under his eyes.

“Josh was right. I have no business keeping you here, not like this. You're not mine to have,” he whispered.

You resisted the urge to turn away from him and cry. Actually, you resisted the urge to cry altogether. There was nothing to cry over. There was no reason the two of you had to torment one another any longer.

“You'll let me go?” you asked quietly, the calm returning to your voice even as your shoulders and body wanted to shake from the sudden cold you felt.

“Yes,” he answered just as calmly. “I won't condemn you to a life you don't want any more than I already have.”

It practically broke you in two and yet still, you fought the sobs that begged to wrack at your body.

The truth was, you did still love Jake. That was the trouble of it all.

He took a step forward finally, meeting you finally, and let his hands raise to grasp at your biceps.

“But I want you to know that even when it's over and the tie is broken, I'll still feel it. My body will remember it. And if you ever want to feel it again,” he sighed as you choked on a sob between his hands, “you need only ask.”

You felt the dam break as you pulled each other into a tight hug, one that didn't hide the anger you felt toward one another but one that made you realize the anger paled in comparison to the love that existed between you, despite the irreparable damage that had been done.

And there, in his hands, you fell apart just a little.

—

When you left Jake to his thoughts in the guesthouse, you found Josh outside at the treeline, staring out into the cold dark space between trees that had been growing tall for decades.

“There's someone in the greenhouse for you,” he said as you met him silently at his side.

You glanced back at the glass structure, the place you'd been carefully avoiding while fighting your own demons right under Jake's nose.

“One more loose end to tie up,” he added as he smiled softly over at you.

You didn’t need to ask. You knew who was waiting for you. And you knew you had Josh to thank for making that happen. Josh was the one who had done everything simply for you in the end. You saw that much better now. He loved you in a way you couldn’t quite comprehend and maybe never would. But what you did know was that you loved him back.

“Thank you,” you breathed out into the silence of the night air, earning a surprised look from the twin you had originally set out to start your life with before things had taken the turn that they had.

“For what?” he asked gently.

“For being you.”

He chuckled softly to himself but there was hardly any humor in it.

“I hope you don't regret letting me into your life. Genuinely.”

“Oh Josh,” you sighed with a simple shake of your head, “I could never regret loving you.”

He turned to pull you into an embrace, one you would remember for the rest of eternity, hopefully even after. At least the safety of his arms never changed. Josh was the most steadfast thing you knew. And despite everything that had happened in the time you'd known him, you knew you would do it all over again just to be with him one more time.

When you pulled away to avoid whatever breakdown would have come rather easily in his arms, he gave you that toothy grin that always soothed you.

“I'll take care of him,” he said unprompted. “I'm his twin, I've always carried a piece of his soul with me. We stitch each other back together. That's what we do.”

You gave him a gentle nod before you turned toward the greenhouse.

Jake was better off in his hands than yours anyway.

The lights in the greenhouse twinkled their usual star-like light, having been restrung so delicately around plants that had been repotted and glass that had been cleaned. It was a much more gentle reminder of how long you'd been gone.

And despite the things you had remembered him doing in the previous days, the whispers in your ears seemed to fade away when you saw him step out of the darkness and into those twinkling lights casting a golden glow on his high cheekbones and droopy brown eyes.

"Josh told me you were alive but I needed to see it for myself."

God, you had even missed his voice.

"Where have you been?" you asked him, resisting the immediate urge to run and jump into his arms.

"Traveling," was all he said.

"Traveling,” you scoffed. “I need a real answer.”

“I knew Jake was hunting down Rebecca. I was planning on ending things but Josh convinced me to wait. He had hope. I decided it was better that I kept my distance in the meantime.”

He took a step closer and you could see he looked just as desolate as the twins did. Just as tired as Jake did. Maybe moreso.

“I can hear what he's done to you,” he whispered. “I can hear the things that haunt you. Even if you don’t want me around anymore, I can help you. Only if you want.”

Fuck, he made it so hard. You deserved your answers, of course. You deserved to know why he had done what he had. But goddamnit, you wanted to beg him to touch you, to reach into your mind and hold things together the way you never seemed to be able to.

But instead of letting yourself long for him too desperately, you took your moment to question him instead, while you had him there. And you tried to remember your anger.

“You sold out your own brother. How could you have done that?"

"I had made a deal with Cassius. I was so careful. I was listening to him every step of the way. Every thought until just before you…”

You only stared at him as he trailed off into silence, studying you. It was the first time he'd seen you alive in longer than Jake had and it felt so unfair that they had kept him from you even for that long. You were both thinking it. You didn’t have to be a mind reader to see that.

“I never even heard it,” he started again when he finally snapped out of the trance your eyes had put him in. “I was so certain of it. Over and over, he just kept thinking it. He would see it through to the end. I thought that meant he would…” He shook his head as he recalled it. “I thought it meant he would keep our deal. I thought I-”

“What deal did you make?” you interrupted him.

“I'm the threat. I'm the one he fears the most. Or at least I was. I told him he could kill me once and for all if he let you live. I told him I'd go without a fight if he let Jake's poor judgment slide just one more time.”

“But you went there to betray him."

He shook his head like you didn’t see what was written so plainly in front of you as he took a single step forward.

"That day in the greenhouse when you said Josh would never deserve a monster like you? I realized it was his fault. He did that to you. He was the one who crashed the car, he was the one that turned you, he was the one that stole you from Josh and now he's the one that's turned you into this.”

You felt a sting pierce your heart as he gestured to you, the abomination that you now were that, truthfully, you didn’t want him to see.

“You were always proud of what I was,” you whispered, avoiding the sudden urge to cover yourself with your arms and hide from him.

“But you weren’t,” he argued back as he took another step. “I spent so long trying to convince you that there was nothing wrong with you but you never really believed it. It never did any good that I thought you were perfect because you never saw it yourself.”

He took yet another step toward you until he was only a foot away from you, and the proximity grew hard to ignore. Your bodies had practically become like magnets and the time you’d spent apart only served to strengthen those magnets.

“I have let myself become miserable because of the choices other people made,” he said with a pointed look that was as deadly serious as it was genuine. “Seeing you hate yourself? Hearing the way you’ve hated yourself? I was angry. So much self-torture on my part, so much wallowing in my own misery, but that day in the greenhouse, I stopped feeling so selfish for once. That day I stopped bleeding for myself and I bled for you."

This time you didn't make any attempt to hide your emotions as they wrote themselves plainly across your face in the form of tears, monstrous and ocean-like as they rolled down your cheeks and set a quiver in your chin.

"You always deserved a choice. You deserved to choose the type of person you wanted to be and you deserved to choose who to spend your life with. That is why I turned him in. He stole your decisions from you like it was nothing. I told Cassius he could have me in exchange for you. I told him I would get Jake to agree to stay on the council for a century. He agreed. I thought…I thought he agreed. He said he would see it to the end, our deal-”

“That's not what he meant,” you interjected. It had finally clicked for you. Cassius didn't play short games. And one day you’d probably learn what it was exactly he would want in return but you could hardly find any urge to care inside of you now. “It's the one I now have in my pocket that sees your soul as it truly is. That's what he said to me.”

You watched confusion flash across his face and it was your turn to shake your head furiously at the things he didn’t see that were laid so plainly before him.

“You think I would have just let you die for me?” you implored.

“You never even would have noticed. Your life with Jake would have continued after he did his time-”

“I don't have a life without you, Sam!” you bellowed finally, arms thrown out to your sides in exasperation that he still couldn't see it: that you had chosen him. “Why do you think Cassius wouldn't let you kill yourself too? If he saw this happening, Sam, why do you think he didn't want me to return to find you already dead?”

When you were met with only silence, you let out a frustrated sound.

“I mean, for fuck’s sake, why do you think I haven’t bound myself to Jake yet?”

“You haven't bound to him yet?” Sam asked, his voice suddenly low and urgent as he reached out and let his fingers graze ever so slightly against your forearm.

“No, I haven't!” you yelled out. “I can’t bring myself to do it!”

He looked stunned as he stood there, suddenly searching for air where he previously didn't need it.

“And now that I'm…this,” you gestured to yourself meanly as hot tears bubbled stronger, “the tie is weak. Rebecca can break it.”

“Why would you let her do that?” Sam questioned, his eyes unwavering on you so as not to miss anything you might do.

It almost made you laugh.

“I would do it for you!” you practically screamed at the glassy eyed boy standing in front of you that softened your tone and your emotions almost instantly. “You said you thought we should choose who we take with us to the end. You said that.” And then you stepped closer to him, practically choking on your tears as you struggled to get the stupid words out. “I would break it for you, Sam. I would break it to take you with me. To the end.”

His eyes were watery when he nodded, as if the only thing holding him back was hearing you say it at long last.

“To the end,” he agreed.

His lips were on yours not a second later, commanding your mouth against his and devouring you the way he had wanted to for so long, the way you had wanted him to for so long. And with his hands on your body pulling you into him with abandon, his mind intertwining with yours to shut out the voices that had haunted you every waking second, you found your peace once more.

He alone was where you belonged.

You melded into him that way, amongst the glass and the plants and the twinkling lights. You even felt, with his lips warming yours and his tongue sliding into your mouth to taste you and memorize you this way, that the two of you together transcended time and space together. And in many ways, you did.

You were desperate to have him right then and there. Frantic, even. Who cared who saw? Who cared who heard? You certainly didn't when you had gone so long without him. But the moment he understood what your hands meant to do, he took them both in one grip of his own and pried his mouth away.

“No, not like this. Not while you're still tied.”

You straightened almost instantly. He was right. That wasn't how you wanted him. You wanted to be focused on him when the time finally came. No one but him.

You had waited this long. Surely you could wait a little longer.

“Then let's fix that.”

—

Rebecca stood between you and Jake with some potion-looking liquid she had mixed up in a bowl and boiled over a fire in the backyard. It seemed rather primitive and it made you wonder how exactly she had brought you back but if you had to guess by the way your surroundings and your parents had melted right in front of your eyes, it had been fire that had brought you back so violently. And if you were honest with yourself, you didn’t want the details.

The others sat around quietly, waiting and watching while you kept your eyes squarely on Rebecca. You needed her for this but it did nothing to quell the loathing you felt for her having done what she had. Sam had had to free your mind in order for this magic to work and so it had left you out in the open once more, able to see her handiwork more easily.

“It should be easy. I've already spoken the incantation over it. You both need only drink it and your tie will be severed,” Rebecca explained.

You'd been avoiding Jake's eyes but when you met them now as he was being passed a tiny glass of dark liquid, you hoped he did see the sorrow in yours that things had come to this.

You wouldn't spend your life angry with him. You didn't want to. This was the only way to ensure it. And maybe you owed each other more words. Maybe you even owed each other a kiss or a hug or just some touch to remind one another that things wouldn't always feel this bad between you. But for once, he didn't seek you and you didn't seek him. There seemed to be a silent understanding between you that there was no amount of physical reassurance and no amount of words spoken that could undo what had been done. It would only be time that could remedy the mess you two had made of one another. At least that you had plenty of.

Rebecca handed you a tiny glass of your own and you took it between your fingers, staring down at the elixir that would change the path you were on so dramatically that it didn't even feel real.

You glanced over at Sam who wore an almost expressionless look on his face until he caught sight of your eyes. He gave you the smallest of smiles, one that he contained for his brother's sake, but it was enough to urge you to turn back to Jake and put glass to lips.

You each swallowed it down in one gulp with your eyes unwavering on one another. And as the liquid slid down your throat, its effects were practically instant.

All at once, you felt something within you sever, and suddenly the guilt you had felt for leaving Jake and the pull that tugged at you, digging its heels in and begging you to go to him, it was all gone, dwindling down into nothing more than a mere spark. And left in its wake was an anger that went unmatched.

You could feel your gifts returning to you, sweeping up through your toes and electrifying you on the journey toward your fingers and finally your head. You could tell Jake was experiencing the same thing, his head thrown back as he breathed deeply and tried to adjust to an assault of noise he had gone without and perhaps forgotten how to wrangle.

You, on the other hand, relished in it. For far too long you had felt weak. For far too long you had felt out of control, jostled around at the whims of others. In fact, you were here now because of choices that had been made that were out of your hands. It angered you beyond recognition. How dare he subject you to such a life of torment? How dare he bring you back to face it all like it was nothing?

The wind rustled the trees around you, conjuring up images of the days you had spent with Sam in the forest: the times you had killed and enjoyed it, the times you had hurt him and regretted it, the times you had been blinded by a rage you could neither control nor understand. But you didn’t fear yourself now. You didn’t fear the power that now flowed once more through your veins, made all the more strong thanks to your journey through death.

With your gifts finally intact, your mind no longer clouded by Jake to the extent that it had been, and your rage finally returned to your body, you reached out to take Rebecca's hand. You could feel all of the beings she had tormented before you. You could see them all as they clung angrily to her. And you were now one of them, thanks to Jake.

But in a way, so was he. Maybe he had even been the first.

She never even felt it. But Jake did. You made sure of that. Like both a punishment and a gift, he felt the instantaneous explosion of pain you sent through her that evaporated her where she stood without even an ounce of exertion from your body.

He doubled over in the same instant, gasping out in pain as he desperately gripped onto Josh's pant leg. Danny and Adele looked on in horror as nothing but remnants of Rebecca in the form of dust now floated in their vision.

Josh had crouched low instantly to ensure his twin was alright, his face out of your life of sight, but Jake? Jake had his eyes on you. He wore a similar expression of horror at what you had done, even as he gasped through the pain he had felt from her and fought to control it. But his eyes never faltered on yours.

And as he wilted there in front of you, the image of you in his vision suddenly morphing into someone he hardly even recognized, your eyes never shied from his either. You had nothing left to hide from him.

“An irresponsible use of power,” was all you said before you turned to leave them all where they stood, stunned and silent, like they had never even known you. And the truth was, they hadn’t. Not the you that you now were.

You weren’t even certain Sam would follow. You weren't certain you deserved him after it all. Actually, you felt quite certain that you didn't.

But he never even hesitated.

—

You didn’t know it as Sam drove you away from the house that you wouldn’t see them all again for several decades. Sam would make the trip a few times over the years without you until things eventually smoothed over, but for now, you left them behind willingly in favor of a house standing tall on a cliffside overlooking the ocean.

The constant swell of seawater beating against rocky cliff below you created a peaceful backdrop for you and Sam to begin your new lives together. And there overlooking the angry ocean, hardly a soul existed to torment you, not that Sam couldn’t handle it.

“I bought half the beach so we wouldn't have to worry about people,” you heard him say from behind you as you looked out the wide pane of glass in your fishbowl porch that painted a view so breathtaking before you.

But you turned on your heels to take in the even more breathtaking view that stood behind you.

“And the ocean here is always terrifying. Should drown those voices out, when they come.”

“There are hardly any here,” you said quietly.

It was funny; now that the two of you found yourselves truly alone for the first time, Sam looked incredibly nervous and you felt as such.

The two of you weren't used to such quiet.

It would be an adjustment, quelling the remnants of your anger alongside the confusion your body still felt at being alive. It would take some getting used to, having now returned to a being that needed sleep to get through the day. You were still changing in ways you didn’t understand, too. And it didn’t help that you no longer knew what exactly you were or what exactly it was that your body needed, that it hungered for. You still found yourself stumbling with fatigue every now and then despite your gifts having returned to you. You even found yourself fighting fits of visions, none from this world but from a world beyond, that always seemed to have you doubling over and screaming out for Sam. But each time you stumbled, he caught you. Each time you called out his name, he found you. And each time you hungered, he was there to satiate you.

You hadn’t lived in the house together for long before a particularly hard day found you. You’d slept late while the sun shined high in the sky warding off a storm brewing several miles away. You'd been kept awake the night before by a barrage of terrors that Sam had begged you to let him quiet. And you finally had let him after several hours. He’d lulled you into a peaceful sleep and ensured you would remain that way until you were more rested. And when you woke, you woke to a house with every curtain drawn tightly shut so as not to wake you. But Sam was no longer beside you.

You padded quietly through the house to find him standing in the large fishbowl porch just off the front of the home, drinking some thick, red blood from a purple mug he must have gotten when he’d decided to attend university some several decades earlier. And his eyes scanned the horizon where the storm drew closer.

Sam had been opting for blood bags from a local hospital since the move. You felt bad knowing how much he loved the fresh stuff but he had insisted upon a quicker method of dining. He hated leaving you even for the hour it took to acquire the stuff. When you had a better handle on things, you'd encourage him to feed the way you knew he needed to. But for you, blood no longer seemed necessary. It seemed that now what your body wanted more than anything was sleep. You were constantly running on empty.

Only once had you felt energized, on a night that Sam had had to shut out the world around you as you sat huddled in bed, shaking in fear at the thing staring at you from the corner of the room. He'd taken your face in his hands and made it all disappear. And then for good measure, he'd given you a memory to hold onto, one of his older ones from back when he was human with Danny. A happy one before their lives had changed. And it had seemed to wake you, like a jolt of caffeine injected directly into your veins. Sam had done some research in the days that had followed and came to the conclusion that you fed off the very same thing as the souls around you did: the living. The two of you just hadn't yet figured out exactly how to harness it.

“I'm sorry, I hope you didn't feel like you had to be quiet for my sake,” you said softly as you crept up behind him with the lavender-colored linen duvet from your bed draped over your shoulders.

That was the other thing you couldn't get used to: the cold. You were still cold to the touch but now it ran deeper, like it permeated your bones. Sam hated it. He hated feeling like he was only chilling you further every time he touched you. But you didn't mind it. It just seemed like a good excuse to rarely leave his bed or to stay bundled up in his sweaters.

“No, no, it’s okay. It kills me to watch you struggle but I know you want to learn to manage these things on your own,” he said just as quietly as he brushed your hair over your shoulder and smiled warmly down at you. “Are we still alone?” he asked.

It had become his new “stay with me”, a quick and easy question he could ask to judge where your mind was at without overstepping your own determination. Heaven forbid something happen to him and you couldn't even get through the first night alone, not that you would even want to.

“Yes, we’re still alone,” you answered before you inhaled a deep breath and tucked yourself under his arm to take in the view of the dark storm rolling across a marvelous expanse of sky. “It’s just going to take me some time to get the hang of things. Feel more normal again.”

He turned his body to face yours, setting his mug down on a wicker table so his hands were free to take either side of your face between them gently. Your eyes fell shut at the feeling, a feeling that was indescribable now that your heart wasn’t caught between him and someone else.

“Take all the time you need,” he whispered softly. “We have plenty of it.”

You let the weight of your head rest completely in his hands, lolling it to one side as you felt his face draw nearer to yours at the behest of your fingers working to find friction in his shirt.

“Actually, I don't think I need time,” you corrected yourself in a light murmur, your eyes still rocked closed.

“No?” he questioned.

You shook your head gently and opened your eyes, though they found themselves instantly fixed to his lips and far too intrigued to move.

“No. Your hands make me feel more normal than anything else.”

Your mouth willed him forward, lips parted and face angled up toward his, waiting, ever so patiently.

It felt like an eternity before his lips finally brushed against yours, just barely meeting yours where they yearned for him so desperately. But when you felt him there, grazing gently along your skin in an almost timid manner, as though he were testing the waters, you closed what little distance there still was keeping you apart, connecting your mouths more fully in a delicate kiss.

It was different having his mouth pressed to yours now, different than anything you had felt in the past. Your soul was no longer being pulled in two different directions, fighting to just feel him. Now, it was only him there with you, no fight needed. It was clarity in a world that seemed to lack that very thing.

When your lips parted briefly, his eyes met yours, staring down at you warmly while his thumbs memorized the skin pulled across your cheeks.

“I wish my hands could forget the last thing they did to you.” He spoke quietly but you could see very plainly the hurt in his eyes as he relived the very thing his brother had run from.

You took his hands in yours, pressing them between your palms and squeezing them tightly.

“The last thing they did was make me feel more alive than I have ever felt,” you assured him.

When his lips met yours again, they were no longer timid. They moved against yours fervently, like they had something they wanted to show you. And they did.

You and Sam hadn't done much in the way of physicality since you'd left for the cliffside. He had insisted it could wait until you had a better handle on things. But as the weeks passed, your need for him had only grown to immeasurable heights and now, you no longer cared if you were mentally unstable or not. You'd find yourself in an even more dire situation if you didn’t have him. And soon.

Sam smiled against your lips as he read your mind. “You already have me; didn’t you know that?”

You smiled back as his hands grew needy against your body, feeling the skin and the lines and the curves he was convinced he'd never get enough of. Thank God you had an eternity to spend together. No limit of time would ever be enough to truly get your fill of him.

It felt like your bodies found one another in slow motion, amongst an almost silent backdrop that only held in the air the sound of waves far beneath you and the trickle of rain that had started from above you, neither of which could touch you in the safety of your home and the safety of his arms.

Your body sought his in any way it could while he walked you through the house, each room quieter and more still than the last, until you blindly reached bed. And you didn't mind the cold as you went. In fact, your hands searched for it, fervently, that smooth, cold skin that they'd barely even been allowed to touch save for a much more shameful moment against a tree in a forest and covered in blood. It wasn't like that now, though. There was no shame to be found as you stripped him of his clothes so quickly, you knew he'd find tears in the fabric when this was long over.

Sam's hands acted with that same sense of urgency and desperation, a cartographer eager to map the planes of your body and how they belonged to him. How they existed for him. His movements to undress you were like silent little promises, each and every one, whispers of the way he felt for you, demonstrations of the way he'd care for you.

You could have remained that way forever and never felt anything but happiness, with Sam in front of you, bared to you and you to him, and your body pressed into his until every crack was sealed and no inch of space went untouched by him.

His hands rested flat against your back, drawing down along your shoulder blades until they reached the dimples at your lower back and the swell of your ass. And then he dipped them even lower to grab at your thighs and part them for him, lifting you high up around his waist to fit snugly between your legs. Even with your eyes closed and your mouth still claiming his, you memorized his body against yours. It would be your new calming memory, your new sense of peace, the thing you used to ground yourself when the nights got difficult.

You barely even registered the sea of plush that hit your back as he used the mattress stopping you to bring his body even closer to yours, pressing into you hard and hungry all while he devoured you.

You begged him with your body and your mind alike to let you feel him inside of you, the last form of connection you'd ever need. But as his mind searched yours, wading through the messy waters there to listen the way he usually did, he pulled his lips away finally, along with his body, until he only stood between your legs, gazing down at you lying ready for him on the bed.

“Are we still alone?” he asked, reaching down to trace lines along your thigh where he could still reach.

You didn't even need to check the way you sometimes did, when you'd fearfully set your eyes to turn about the room, looking for shadows, listening for voices. You could tell just by the silence that engulfed you that he was the only one there with you.

You lifted yourself up onto your elbows and then onto your palms until your torso raised parallel to his where he stood just beside the bed. And you brought your lips to his skin, the expanse around his navel first to let your tongue taste the saltiness there. You heard him let out a gasp above you as your cold fingers found him next, wrapping around his length as your mouth traveled up and down and along his torso that seemed to heave beneath your touch.

Those droopy, doughy eyes watched you carefully as you savored him. You felt indescribably lucky to be touching him this way. Even just to have him this way.

“There's no one here but you and me,” you whispered against his skin.

The way it was meant to be.

He worked a hand into your hair to pull your face away, enough to angle your head back to gaze up at him. And with your mouth vacant once more, he leaned down to connect your lips again, this time taking himself in his hand and angling his hips just right so that he could slide easily between your legs and thrust himself inside of you.

You gasped against his mouth as he stilled himself there, giving you both a moment to truly feel one another as you became one in an instant.

His eyes fell shut the way yours did and your lips hovered close to one another's, both parted and breathing deeply to steady the sudden desperate ache that grabbed at you, begging you to move at light speed to continue what you'd started.

“I don't know how I got this lucky,” he shook his head almost in disbelief just before he worked both of his hands up into your hair to steady himself against you once more, enough to draw his hips back slowly and thrust them forward again, sinking himself deeper into you. You both moaned at the feeling, the sounds mingling together and dancing in the air until it was impossible to tell where one noise ended and the other began.

You could hear nothing but the waves and the rain and the sounds he made as he lifted you just off the bed to position himself better, coming down to hover over you as his hips couldn't help but work themselves up into a rhythm.

God, you needed him. You needed this every waking second for the rest of eternity. It was the way his hands gripped your skin to pull you closer, the way his moans started deep in his chest and muffled themselves against your mouth, the way he felt filling you up and nudging the deepest parts of you, all of him really that conjured up happy tears in your eyes and the vacancy in your lungs.

His hand moved to your chest, slender fingers splaying out flat against your body to push you backward against the mattress again, giving himself a better view as he sent another sharp thrust through his hips, driving himself deeper inside of you until you could practically feel him in your stomach. And he moved slowly to savor his every movement but his pelvis drove into you hard, each thrust sending you scooting halfway up the bed as decency fell away and only an urgent hunger for one another remained.

His name, it was the only thing you knew as your back arched off the bed and your fingers reached out to grab at his chest or his arms or his hair, whatever they could find to grip and keep you tethered to him.

“I love you, Sam. Fuck, I love you. I love you,” you gasped from underneath him as the feelings overflowed in your chest, culminating in a prayer to him.

Sam dipped his head back down with a gentle curse and brought his lips to the skin just below your breasts. And you waited to feel fangs sink into your skin there. You waited for that piercing pleasure to send hot, sharp pain through your body. But it never came. Only his lips and tongue graced you, peppering you with lazy, sloppy kisses while his hips never even faltered.

“I have loved you for so long,” he answered between kisses and drags of his tongue against your icy skin. “And I'll love you to the end.”

You took his position as an opportunity to weave your hands into his long hair, letting them tangle themselves and pull as they pleased as your body sought his up and off the bed.

“And after or I'll haunt you, Samuel. Wherever you are in the afterlife, I'll find you-oh fuck!” A sharp gasp cut through your words as he nudged that beautiful spot inside of you.

He brought his face level with yours, showing off the smile that had spread on his lips.

“And after,” he promised with a nod, just before his brows furrowed and his mouth dropped open at the feeling of you squeezing tighter around him.

It was like its own little source of pleasure, knowing you could cause a reaction like that in him. It sparked something a bit more animalistic inside of you, prompting you to pull him down roughly and roll him over onto his back so you could begin to ride him at a much faster pace. But he quickly lifted his body up to meet yours, wrapping a strong arm around the small of your back to help guide your rhythm.

“Fuck,” he grunted, his face taking on a determined look as his hands worked with your hips to spur your movements on. Just a little harder, just a little faster.

You moaned out a loud sound as you wrapped your arm around his shoulders and dropped your forehead down onto him. Each raise and lowering of your hips brought him closer, brought you closer.

His hands worked hard to spread across every inch of your skin as your hips rolled against him, taking him as deeply as you could.

“I-I swear you saved me,” he stuttered out against the feeling, against your skin. “When we met, I was giving up.”

You squeezed your eyes shut at his words, moving faster and truthfully, feeling nothing but him and the blinding bliss his body created.

“Shit-” His words threatened to fail him as expletives began to drip from your own mouth like a chant now. But he seemed so determined to make you understand just exactly how he felt, as if you couldn’t feel it in the way his body clung to yours or in the way his eyes drooped just a little more with the heavy weight of his love for you.

“Everything inside of me burns with desire for you,” he grunted as he gripped your waist tighter and bounced you harder on his length.

“Oh fuck, Sam-” you choked out.

“I swear,” he breathed out, enraptured in your bliss almost more than his own, “you’ve made me better.”

It was his words that did it in the end, sending you crashing over the edge with his name burned into your throat as your walls clenched hard around him. And he followed not long after, spilling deep inside of you and clutching your body as close to his as he could manage.

The aftermath you had left took the shape of bed linens strewn across the floor along with clothing that may or may not have been wearable again in its current state. And in bed, your bodies entangled that same way, haphazard and draped wherever they had left off with one another. But even so, his lips strolled along your skin lazily, whatever he could reach as you fell back onto the mattress like he was reluctant to let the moment end.

You knew what he was doing. He was committing this very moment to memory, trying not to lose even a single detail.

“A new favorite.” It wasn’t so much a question but he nodded in confirmation.

“A new favorite.”

You couldn't help the smile that spread across your lips.

He seemed to be settling into the bed, likely to help you sleep, but you hardly felt tired. Actually, you'd never felt more alive than you did in that moment. So wearing only a mischievous smirk, you slipped off the mattress as he eyed you and your form carefully.

You waltzed across the room to his side of the bed as the confusion grew on his face. And when you stood next to him and took his hand gently in yours, you gave him a grin.

“I'll race you,” you teased just before you flew out the door behind you.

You could hear him yelling from behind you as you went.

“Where are you going? You're indecent!”

“Come find me beneath the water!” you yelled back, pushing through every door in your way until your feet had found solid ground.

Then you flung your body over the cliff's edge.

And when your body hit the water and began to sink into it like a rock, welcoming the vast darkness that existed below the bellowing surface, you again found yourself unable to contain the smile that formed at your lips when you felt the splash of him meeting you there.

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