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#without mother’s and fathers it will be the end of humanity
themotherofhorses · 2 days
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simon riley x fem!reader
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Imagine holding Simon when he cries. 
Simon Riley is an incredibly strong man, an absolute force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. Since joining the SAS in 2001, he has created a name for himself. A military legend—seemingly more ghost-like than flesh and blood. But that is the farthest from the truth, isn’t it? Cause, at the end of the day, he is still human. You’re his girl, the love of his life. His true love—his only love.
You are a source of comfort he somehow found in this shitty, cold world. The home he never had the privilege of experiencing; your arms have provided him with everything he was denied during boyhood.  
So imagine your Simon arriving home one evening—dead silent—merely shuffling his way to where you’re seated comfortably on the living room couch. His duffle bag drops near his leather recliner before the balaclava is tossed to the side. On his face is a certain heaviness, a sadness twisted in his handsome features; his blue eyes are not as bright as they usually are.
You swallow. Did something happen during the mission? 
“What is wrong, baby?” You coo, stretching your arms out wide to welcome him in. 
Without another thought, Simon tucks himself into your embrace, with his head resting gently on your chest. Against your breast, he can hear your heartbeat thundering away in your chest, moving in a rhythm that matches his. He reckons he is the luckiest bastard in the world, to find a soulmate who compliments him in every aspect of life. 
He lets out a small sigh, squeezing his eyes shut, feeling his throat closing up as tears begin to well up. His bottom lip trembles before he bites down on it. 
“Simon,” you murmur, pressing a gentle kiss on his forehead. “What happened, my love?” 
Another tear, followed by three more. A tiny, shaky exhale. Simon remains utterly still for a moment, not saying anything, until…“It’s my father’s birthday today.” His voice is quiet, breathless, unbelievably thick with sheer sadness. 
Your face falls at that. “Oh, Simon.” A sad smile pulls at your lips while you hug him closer, peppering more kisses up and down his hairline, pausing to brush back soft, blonde strands. You say nothing more as he continues to weep in your arms, entire body racking with choked-up sobs and uneven breathing. 
“I loved him,” Simon rasps out, pulling his face up from your neck. Both his cheeks and nose are a cherry-red, with baby-blue eyes bloodshot and puffy, lined with fresh tears. For a moment, he wasn’t the Simon Riley you fell in love with, but the Simon Riley who was five-years-old—all scrawny, little legged and freshly bruised, hiding behind the bookcase in his parents’ bedroom. 
“Loved him so bloody much.” 
You don’t know what to say. What can you even say? Nothing can heal those wounds, cut so deep in his heart and soul that any slight movement reopens them. “I know you did.” You kiss his nose, minding the mess of tears and snot. 
His fists slowly tighten, knuckles whitening as all the memories of his father begin to flood through him; they all carry an agonizing sensation, the kind that is too fuckin' painful to discuss aloud, yet too damn gut-wrenching to keep bottled up inside.
“Do ya…” he hiccups, clearing his throat. “Do ya think…in another life…?” 
In another life. You think for a moment, carding your fingers softly through his hair. “Maybe, my love…” 
Simon nods. “Maybe,” he croaks out, keeping his arms tight around you. There, on the couch, you continue to hold him, letting his torrent of tears soak your shirt; time and time again, your fingers run through his hair in some silent attempt to ease the little boy wailing inside. 
“It’s okay, baby.”
You kiss his temple.
“You’re alright. Let it out, baby.” 
He’ll be alright tomorrow. You know it. In the morning, he’ll be barefoot and content in the kitchen, baking his mother’s special recipe of blueberry and pineapple pancakes—a cup of milk, one egg, blueberries, pineapple, and, of course, the batter—all while waiting for your arms to circle around his chest. 
But for right now, he is five years old, finally being embraced in arms so warm and loving and protective—so unbelievably perfect. The feeling incites more tears.
"Thank you, baby," he mumbles, gently kissing your collarbone; it's a kiss so rich with love, appreciation, and adoration that it stirs up butterflies in your tummy. "For everything."
For everything. Oh, you silly boy. "Simon." You smile down at him, gently caressing his cheek. "For you, my love? I'd do anything."
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note: a little drabble for my "let simon riley cry 2024" campaign. thanks!
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acourtofthought · 2 days
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Whenever I see an Elriel say: SJM told us the mating bond could be rejected for a reason! Elain is going to reject Lucien to be happy with Azriel!
The only thing I can think is: Yes, she did tell us that, but she also told us the consequences of that, and that's the part Elriels always seem to forget or ignore.
Even if Elain does reject the bond, she will never be able to be fully happy with Azriel because she will always feel the remnants of the bond lingering deep inside her chest. Even if she loves Azriel and wants to give him her heart, mind, body, and soul, a piece of her will always be tied to Lucien. There's no getting away from that. It's a simple fact, and as interesting as a rejected bond could be, it doesn't seem fair or right to have Elain end up with Azriel when they will both be eternally haunted by the shadow of Lucien.
And it doesn't seem fair or right for Lucien to suffer a rejected bond, even if somehow the Vassien shippers are right and he ends up in love with Vassa, he too will forever feel the lingering bond and then what? Vassa is human and will die much sooner than Lucien. So I guess they want him to be "happy" only for a few decades, then just go on living the rest of his life alone, haunted by the loss of Jesminda, Elain, and Vassa.
You're so right! If you ask me for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and I take away the peanut butter and jelly, I'm just feeding you bread. Sarah has given us a ton of information regarding the bond yet E/riels cling to the random snippets of information that suit their narrative while acting like the rest doesn't matter.
"You said your mother and father were wrong for each other." "What if - that is what she needs?" They love that line and it's used exhaustively in arguments. But they don't bother to think on why Rhys's parents were a poor matched. Bonds do not make poor matches. Personalities make poor matches. Rhys's father was vicious and cold, his mother was soft and fiery. We KNOW Lucien is not vicious or cold. Az is the one with a temper, an icy rage, a hatred of many people, a torturer. Rhys's mother managed to have two children with her husband and we're not given hints that she was forced against her will, it says she eventually grew to resent him. Why don't they focus on that part? That their downfall came about from their personalities? And with that awareness, how they can they claim the same won't happen to Elain and Az? She might be fine with him for a bit but what if she eventually grew to resent him too? You don't need a mating bond for that to happen, it happens all the time in the real world without bonds. They focus on how Sarah mentioned she has turned the idea of bonds over in her head, is there choice? Once again, proof for E/riels that Elain's choice has been taken away and she's decide to be with Az instead! But they ignore how she goes on to say "or is it both?". For every character so far, it's been both and she even tells us she's not saying whether she'll explore a rejected bond or not which is not a confirmation that it's what we're going to see for Elain. As always, they ignore how Elain and Lucien will always feel a tug to one another even if they reject the bond. They pretend that one doesn't exist but what that means is that no matter how long Elain and Az are together, no matter how happy they might seem, they are BOTH going to know that Fate chose Lucien for her and she'll have a connection to him that she'll never have with Az. That sounds depressing to me and will prevent many readers from ever feeling confident that it's not going to become an issue for them at some point. It raises too many questions, how often will Az be jealous because of it? How many fights will they have where Elain needs to reassure him that she's not thinking of Lucien? That she didn't sense him through the bond? What will E/riel do if Az comes across his own mate some day?
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annabelle-creart · 2 days
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A lil Blurr redesign for the Life of Rescue Bots Au because I wanted her to look femenine (I know in the show is male but Rescue bots don’t have enough women and I wanted some body angst for the Chase and Blurr plot, and by that I mean father and daughter plot)
I added the lil things that look like antenae cause of Chase’s moving fins of his head sides, that move when he hears something, and also I added an ambulance mode because they really need a real ambulance in the program, they don’t even have one in academy :v
In conclusion: i keep much of the body shape cause of her personal plot but also wanted her head to look femenine, and of course her character as well, added and alt mode ambulance and antennae so she would look physically more to Chase
In this Au she was an ilegal racer back on Velocitron before the war knock at the planet, she was one of the best but always get injured, the debts were higher and with the police getting out of control just as the people, she and Salvage decided to escape together to another planet near, but something went wrong and they both ended up crashing on earth and then into stasis, if they weren’t asleep so much time they would probably had Chase’s age but due to the stasis, they remain as teenagers, the day the sky turn red and green due to the battle between Mandroid and the autobots, the ship they were trapped into send a signal to Griffin Rock, because it was near, so the rescue team went into the rescue and awake them, becoming since then the two new members of the rescue team with Sissi. Even if sometimes acts like a kid she is really passionate and love people but is a little insecure in the moment of recieve and give care, she was orphan just like Salvage, they only learned to trust in each other, even when Blurr treat Salvage like less and lie to him too much times to count it or Salvage says things at her ear to annoying her and keep her away from the rest.
it’s actually something i want to talk about not here but in a comic but if Blurr and Salvage are teenagers who grew up alone and treated like scrap i would not be surprised that they depend too much into each other at the point of a toxic relationship where Blurr treats Salvage like less even if can’t do anything without him and Salvage makes her think no one is enough or secure for her except him, so, yeah, both have problems and need therapy… you know? I’m going to edit Salvage’s psychiatric disorder from ‘none’ to ‘emotional dependent’ I literally just thought in the idea and like, i didn’t even planned that Salvage and Blurr would be such a mother fraggers ajksjaksjs
But don’t think wrong, Blurr and Salvage are not bad, they are just hurted and don’t know how to deal with the situation, Blurr can be a little egotistical for all the years she had been thinking and taking care about herself and Salvage talk to her just like she wants because he knows her well, enough to be like a second conscience, they do what they think necesary to survive because what is now a toxic relationship was Salvage’s superhero who could keep him safe and sound and never allowed a night without energon, and Blurr’s family who cure her wounds and kept her faith in humanity (well, velocitranity?), they just were together too much time and started treating the other with more authority than they actually have.
I think sleep absence is making me do angst, night mfs, I need more sleep than Kade dreaming with gremlins
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awesomecooperlove · 1 month
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PLEASE SIGN AND SHARE IF YOU AGREE 🙏🏻🏆🙏🏻
💫💫💫
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solarmantle · 1 year
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Extremely self indulgent art of my oc being Zoro's mom
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m4niackkyun · 1 year
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Hi. (Announcement in the tags)
#uhmm...i don't know how to explain this...#so my family has been having a lot of trouble lately#mostly our relationship with our step father#there's been ups and downs..well..more on the downer side. the only main reason my mother married him was because of..well..#money..as trash as that sounds. i can't deny the fact that I've been able to continue my studies due to his financial support.#i don't want to justify anything that i've probably done wrong to him but emotionally right now—i'm simply scarred to the point where—#I don't think I could heal without professional help. I've been struggling a lot with it ever since of what he did#i felt disgusted. dirty. I felt lost. I didn't want to forgive him. maybe this is the punishment i have to endure because I didn't have it—#—in me to forgive him. I know the principles of my religion and it is stated that one must always find forgiveness towards others.#no matter how big their mistake is. but you see—I'm not God. I am human. my kindness isn't as grand and as big as Him.#my patience is limited and so is my forgiveness#that applies the same to my mother. my mother is a very patient person when it comes to her husband. but yet again she isn't an angel—#nor is she God. she is also human and has limits to what she could handle and what she could forgive and forget.#they argued tonight. and I don't think it'll slide or end well like the past arguments. and I'm sorry to say but—#I won't be able to be active all that much either.#without him now I'll probably have to look for part time jobs. which is gonna limit how active I will be here and on my main account#I will probably go into an indefinite hiatus for some time#maybe I'll come back...maybe I won't. hopefully I will. just...pray for me that I have it in me to continue doing what I love and—#—sharing these little bits of what I do in my free time with you.#I won't have the time to reply to anything for the time being. college tests are on the way and I have to prepare myself for—#—the better or worse.#if things go downhill and you don't hear from me for a long while. then this will probably be my last post here.#I'll still be able to reply to messages on other platforms#but I just don't have the emotional stability to talk right now. No it's gonna be fine. I have faith in me and God.#I know that He doesn't put His children into burdens that none of them could handle.#and if He thinks I could handle this. then I will. and I can. He is with me and so is all of your faith.#that puts me in a sense of reassurance a little hahah...#yeah.. so...I'll see you then..bye.
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dcxdpdabbles · 3 months
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So I've seen a couple of Demon twin prompts that have Danny and Damien knowing and keeping in touch with each other over the years with the Batfam none the wiser (The funniest being that Damien had Danny go and replace him for a week then the two played it off like it had been happening since Damien was brought to the manor. Another good one had Danny quickly dropping off Ellie with Damien leaving him to introduce Bruce to his granddaughter). How would this play out for you? Would Danny have run with Damien faking killing him, would he have just disappeared from the compound (?) One day?
Their mother had given birth to identical twins. Damien was born three whole minutes before Danny, which shouldn't have mattered much but to the Ra's it meant the world of difference.
Ra's did not want to raise more than one hire. He did not believe in spares or succession struggles. He gave Talia the ultimatum,- pick one twin to raise in their ways and give the other up to a civilian family or lose them both and her status.
Talia will never claim to be an angel. She knew that her heart was cold and wrenched as needed to cleanse the world. She was far too selfish to even consider becoming a civilian away from the league.
It wasn't a bad life, in the end, to become a regular civilian but it was not for her. Ra's had many children who were never deemed worthy of being part of his greater plans. He never mistreated them, but ultimately he ignored them and they grew up not knowing the blood that ran through their veins.
Talia herself knew of six siblings- all different ages and races- that she had seen from a distance. Her father would take her sometimes to see them, to be reminded that unlike them, she was destined for greatness.
They were nicknamed as the Lost by one of Father's past heirs. He had died fifty years before Talia's time but he was known for his surprisingly humorous outlook on life. How Ra could stand it, she will never know.
Sometimes Talia pitted her Lost siblings. They would be outlived by their father- as all of his children thus far have been- but they would never know the waste their lives had become. They would never know the glory of battle, the rush of leading an army, or the satisfaction of successful missions.
They lived in a rose-colored world inside a small fish bowl. Her Lost siblings would never know the vast wonder of the world.
Sometimes Talia envied her Lost siblings. Even though they had no real impact on the world, no real importance, they lived peaceful lives. They grew, made friends, and fell in love without fear of being betrayed. A foolish belief but one that seemed almost blissful.
How light would their shoulders be to not have to carry the weight that Talia has known all her life? Weight to be the best, to be the killer her father required, to allow her son to head to a possible death day after day.
None of them had to worry about their children never returning from a mission like she did. That's why she trained Damian so harshly, why she pushed and pushed until he reached perfection. If she didn't, then Damian would be bested in the field and his death would shatter what little humanity she still held.
She had taken Danny- her sweet youngest boy- to America to entrust him to her Beloved. It was only as she arrived on American soil did she realized that Bruce would not be satisfied with only one twin.
He would do everything in his power to get them both. Despite the years he trained with them, after learning their ways and their mission, Bruce did not approve of the League.
He was powerful enough to succeed in taking Damian as well if she gave him the chance.
Talia chooses to not do so. She instead stopped at the closest city that was miles and miles away from Bruce Wayne. She found Amity Park, a small sleepy town that would never gather much attention let alone Bruce's, and located a couple struggling for a second child.
After her men screened them and after making sure that they were harmless despite their eccentric research into ghosts, she gave the Fentons her Danny in adoption.
When she signed the adoption forms, Danny offically became a Lost sibling. She flew home, and held Damian just a tad bit tighter and longer, allowing only a few tears to fall before shutting away her heart.
She visited him through the years, but never within sight. Danny was unaware of her presence, as he stumbled his way with his life. He was unpopular with his peers, uncoordinated in basically everything, and the idea of him harming anything was laughable.
He had too much of his Father's heart but none of his will.
Talia made the right choose in getting him out. He would not have survived long within her lifestyle.
When her sons turned six, Talia had chosen to take Damian to see his Lost brother. She had two motives for doing so. The first was to show Damian what became of those deemed unworthy. To let him see that he had been given the honor of being the twin to inherit all that the Al Ghuls could offer.
The second was so that Damian could see his brother still lived, even as worthless and meaningless as he did so, he was still alive. He would know nothing of their world but he would still be able to walk through a different one.
She hoped but never voiced that he would find comfort in this and maybe even affection for her foolish Lost brother.
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What she was not aware of, was that Damian Al Ghul was just as selfish as she was. Once he saw what he deemed as his there was little in this world that would stop him from owning it.
He believed he was entitled to having a connection with his blood brother so underneath Talia's and the League of Assassins' noses, Damian did just that. He officially introduced himself to Danny when he was eight and told him the truth about their heritage.
Danny welcomed him with open arms. Despite being polar opposites in personality the identical twins were the best of friends. Damian always looked forward to seeing his brother for a short visit whenever the opportunity arose.
Danny was always pleased to host him for a weekend and the Fentons were more than happy to have him over. They may not have been able to adopt Damian but he was just as much their son as Danny was.
Damian just wishes he could return the gesture but if he ever had the Fentons over at Nanda Parbat they would all be dead within the first thirty minutes.
It was best to go to Danny.
Then Damian went to live with Father. It was a rough adjustment and he is not proud of his less-than-optimal reaction to Father's adoptive siblings seeing as the Fentons had proved blood is not required to love a child. It took months of getting used to living there before he was comfortable enough to go visit Danny again.
They spoke every night on the phone, however, since he no longer had to worry about traitorous warriors reporting his contact with a Lost sibling. He told Danny everything about the Waynes, just as Danny told him everything about being Phantom.
They just forgot to tell any of the Waynes about him.
Damian offered to have him over now that he knew Father would never harm his brother, and that the other Wayne children wouldn't kill him either. Danny, ever the most mischievous of the two, had a better idea.
"We could prank the family instead." Danny chirps floating above his bed, headphones in his ear as tries to play videogames upside down. He grins at the screen where Damian stares back at him.
Facetiming Danny can be a bit difficult when his brother has a hard time sitting still.
Damian wasn't strong enough to say no to him.
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"Master Bruce" Alfred didn't shout exactly but it was a near darn thing that had everyone in the cave tensing up. They all turned to an older man who was nervously gesturing to a screen. "We seem to have a guest"
They gather around the older man, watching as a teenage boy wearing baggy oversized sleepwear rampages through the kitchen in an ill-fated attempt to make...a sandwitch?
"How did he get in?" Bruce demands at once watching the boy pour himself a large cup of milk. His face was turned away so they couldn't see him clearly but-
"What are you all babbling about? That's not a guest." Damian scoffs after pushing his way to the front of the computers. He waves a hand at the stranger and it is conveniently at that exact moment that he turns around gulping down his milk.
It's an exact replica of his youngest. What in the world?
"Demon Brat" Jason starts slowly, hand reaching for his gun. Bruce would be angry by that, except he's not exactly sure that his son is standing with them now "Who is that?
"Obviously it's Daniel."
"Who?" Dick asks
Here Damian actually pauses looking around at everyone in as close to alarm as Bruce has ever seen him. "Daniel. My brother. Do you all not remember him?"
"Master Damian, this is the first time I have heard of your brother," Alfred stressed, the tone just a tad bit off from being upset. Damian's eyes widen behind his mask suddenly looking rather small.
He stares at the butler like he has never seen him properly nodding his head to the Batcomputer. "Check for yourself."
"I'll do it." Tim offers strolling over. With Babs on vacation with her father, he is the best with computers. He will know if something has been altered. A few clicks on the keyboard was the only sound within the cave as everyone stood around in unease.
A quick hiss between his teeth has Tim announcing. "Demon Brat isn't lying."
There on the multiple screens is proof that for the past four years- since Damian came to live with them- there was Danny. The brother with a medical condition that made being a Bat impossible.
Tim even had a personal folder- one he made but couldn't remember making based on his wonderous expression- titled "Angel Brat". Apparently, he and Danny got on like a house on fire. At least according to the files.
"Are you all quite sure you have no recollection of Daniel?" Damian questioned. His stance is protective, tense in a way Bruce has come to know as his son being nervous.
None of this makes sense. The last time Damian was this nervous was the last large Justice Leauge mission when all hands were on deck to fix the timeline-
Oh No.
"Damian, on the last rank 10 mission of the league you were the only one on the Watchtower when Flash shifted us back. Even Alfred was commanding a tank that day." He states waiting until his son nods in agreement. Around him, everyone was equally tense likely realizing the same thing.
"I was not alone Father. Daniel was with me. I couldn't possibly control all those stations alone."
Of course.
"Damian, I'm afraid the last mission erased Daniel from our timeline. I do not remember him."
His son's eyes practically bug out of his head. He swings around in small circles looking towards the rest of the family. His jaw clenched at their blank expressions.
None of them remembered Daniel either.
"We must inform Daniel at once-"
"No!" Dick shouts, cutting him off. There was a slump in his shoulders as he spoke much less sharply now. "If we do that, there is a chance that Time will try to force his existence out. It could.... erase Daniel completely."
"So what? We just pretend to know the kid? Lie to him?" Steph scoffs,
"Yeah as much as it sucks. I've worked with Bart long enough to know that there is a real danger in telling Daniel the truth." Tim sighs running his hands over his face.
"That's fucking great." Jason sneers, kicking a chair. Duke's hands are curled into tight fists, while Cass is looking at Damian with a sad frown.
Damian sneers at them, fleeing into the showers. Cass is one step behind him. Likely for the best, his eldest daughter has always been the best one to confine into. If anyone can get Damian talking about his feelings without being too pushy, it's her.
Alfred remains silent but his posture is stiff and straight. He is equally as displeased as his more explosive children. Not that Bruce couldn't blame him.
His heart has already shattered a dozen times over once Daniel's files have been brought up. He has forgotten his son. Has lost him in a way as close to death.
He flickers through them with the family. Everyone wants to remember as much as possible. There is so much. Daniel has a heart condition that has him attached to a heart pump, his consistently cold and is rarely strong enough to wander too far away from the manor.
In fact, he seems to collapse a lot like his legs just become intangible. Talia isn't aware he is still alive- Damian broke the rules to get him out of the league before his plan execution due to his condition.
Despite all of this, Danny had the biggest heart out of them. He seemed to be the kind of person with an easy smile, and happy pun waiting. He is so gentle that Tim's nickname "Angel Brat" is not just a mirror of Damian's
And Bruce forgot him.
To make matters worse the cave's elevator dings on, and down it comes Daniel himself. He looks exhausted, likely not used to being up so late but he smiles at them all warmly anyway
"Hey guys! Welcome home!" He greets. He rushes forward, hugging everyone with ease that not even Dick has been able to do. His movements are done so naturally that this must be how he greets them every night.
Everyone lets him and he doesn't seem surprised by the fact they return the hugs.
Bruce feels like vomiting as his youngest- Damian is older- smiles up at him. "Welcome home Dad! Love you."
"I..." His words catch in his throat. Daniel tilts his head confused but Bruce pushes through wrapping his arms around him just as tightly. "I love you too son."
"Tell the others you love them too" Daniel whispers in his ear. "Don't forget that they need to be shown through words and gestures too Dad!"
Bruce stiffens, unsure if he should but he doesn't have enough information to deny Daniel anything. If he suspects something is wrong he may zap himself out of existence. He can't let that happen.
He pulls back from Daniel after a moment, and then without giving the others warning, he reaches for the child closest to him. Jason yelps as he is dragged into Bruce's warm embrace. "I love you, Jason."
"Ugh what?" Jason sounds confused from above him- when did his little boy get so tall?- but he wraps his arms around him too, giving the beaming Daniel a quick glance before he mutters. "Love you too old man."
Bruce turns to Dick who is practically bouncing on his heels, arms held out. He steps into them easily, grunting as Dick squeezes him with all his might. "I love you, Dick"
"I love you too!"
Tim is staring with wide longing eyes over Dick's shoulder and Bruce knows he will have to hug him next. Behind him, Daniel has moved to embrace both Jason and Steph, which triggered a group-wide personal hug.
Even Alfred is there affording hugs and I love yous.
It's.....nice.
_____________________________________________________________
None of the Bats are good enough to read the body launage as Cass is. She saw the mischievous glee her new brother was hiding as he went around hugging everyone.
Damian taps her wrist. "Will you keep quiet of Daniel's harmless jest?"
She smiles. "Funny. They think they can't say no to him. "
"Oh, Dad! Now that you're back can I paint your nails?" Daniel asks loudly. "I have the best black nail polish!"
"....I suppose that is fine."
Damian cracks a smile. "My brother is a menace."
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moonit3 · 7 months
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SURVIVORS
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➥ warnings/notices: yandere, nsfw, smut, noncon fingering, implied age gap, death, violence, blood, harassment, apocalypse, reader’s family dies, mentioned pregnancy, reader is scared of many things but has a gun, guns, threats, open ending.
➥ yandere! male apocalypse survivor x f! reader
➥ synopsis: you shouldn’t have let him inside.
➥ a/n: why not writing it? i had a dream like this a few nights ago and thought about it, so i had to write it before I could forget it. not to mention, also opened end guys.
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➥ the events are forever in your mind. the day that change the world when unseen creatures start appearing from nowhere and killing every human they could find, include father and mother, both who died to put you inside the bunker they made in the woods, where the door was hide behind vines and rocks inside a cave. there, you could hear their fainted scream for minutes til the creatures finally finished and leave the area for good.
➥ that bunker quickly become your home as your are too afraid to step outside to witness of what world has become. with numerous supplies stocked, running water and a huge indoor garden to plant vegetables and some chicken running around. so you began living there without worrying about lack of food nor energy as this whole place is move by the river nearby. your parents really thought of everything, didn’t they?
➥ and as expected, a live full of simplistic and cozy start up when you get used to the almost same routine every day. take care of the garden, cook meals, clean the entire place, repare old clothes and your favorite thing, catch a glimpse of the outside world. in the highest part of the bunker, there is a periscope that allow you to see almost two miles around the front of cave.
➥ one day, instead of seeing wild animals and the creatures, you see a man standing in front of the entrance with his clothes full of cuts and blood, looking almost he is ready to pass out at any given second. should you help him? he looks horrible in this state, but the last words of father still ringing in your mind, don’t let anyone enter the bunker other than you! but…he looks so miserable and lost, not to mention the sounds of the creatures around, so you helped him.
➥ ignoring the voices inside your head, you open the door and help the man to enter the bunker. the many cuts on his skin still fresh and the blood running his vests are smelling bad. im going to help you, okay? just stay here. i have a kit-aid that will give you some relief. and with the best effort, you managed to clean most the blood of him and stitch all of his cuts. even daring to wash his hair as you offered him.
➥ after treating him, you could take a better look at the mysterious man that is inside the bathtub. sharp eyes that reminds you of blades, skin full of old scars (from the creatures and other humans), full of muscles and hands way bigger than yours. this man is someone stronger to have survived in the wildness outside for the past years. however the injuries in his body isn’t going to heal anytime soon, so you offered him to stay over for a couple of weeks until he gets fully healed.
➥ a new routine began for the two of you. theo, as he introduced himself, began doing most of the task that involves hard working such as cutting firewood from the garden, fixing furniture that were broken years ago and even taking care of the chickens. in meanwhile, you took care of the cooking, cleaning and sometimes helping theo in his duties as you are afraid that he is pushing himself.
➥ don’t bother me, [name]. despite letting him living with you for the past few days, theo wasn’t got close to you nor let you take care of his wounds, saying that he knows how to handle it. he is a little stubborn, you have to admit, but you can’t let him take of his own wounds, theo barely knows how to stitch his injuries and have zero clues on how to properly use the bandages. with enough lucky and discussion, he lets you take care of him, but only if you don’t use the anesthesia.
➥ a weird request, but you listen to his words and don’t use the anesthesia when cleaning his wounds. you don’t know why he prefers it, but it’s a little comforting to see him smiling when you are changing his bandages and taking care of him. and every time after you finish doing it, he kisses your cheek as a reward. you did a great job, [name]. why he keeps doing it? you don’t know, but with every kiss that theo gives you, it’s always make your heart skip a beat louder and faster.
➥ then after weeks of living together, it was time to theo to leave the bunker when his injuries got better, but you two got so close together in this time that you offered him to stay at the bunker with you and he accepted. it’s a great offer, not gonna to lie. and staying around you is going to be better than going outside, not knowing if im going survive another day. with that, you began officially living along theo inside the bunker.
➥ and living with theo got a little weird, maybe awkward(?) as he become more touchy around you. his large hands on your waist during moments that you thought to be alone or catching him spying when you are bathing, it makes you uncomfortable of course. however, when you think to bring it up to talk about it, theo cut the subject, i think you are overthinking, [name]. you know me, i won’t never do that.
➥ his words don’t affect you and you continue to take notices of his new behavior. it’s getting worse every day goes on, his touches become more intense (always having a hand on your waist or something even lower), he enters the bathtub with you (to save water), but what did you made panic was waking up in the middle of the night with theo sleeping with you. your body laying against his chest and his hand going lower to your private parts.
———
“theo—“ he covers your mouth with the crook of his elbow, not giving you any chance to speak up with his hand going beneath your shorts, already feeling your sensitive part. this can’t be happening, it’s must be a nightmare.
without any warning, he inserted one finger inside you, resulting in your muffled scream being heard by theo only as your body shakes in fear, along with tears began to drop all over the nigh clothes. don’t worry, [name]. “i will be gentle, okay? i want to your first time to be special and unique.” so his single digit start moving inside your warmth walls, feeling how spongy and tight you are becoming due to his touch.
your body shakes when theo adds another finger inside, this is too much! you never expected to be this painful as you heard from friends back at college. your hands goes to his arm, trying to move it away his hand from your intimate parts, but ended receiving a head but from theo.
“don’t you dare! i been waiting for this for too long for you to ruin it!” another finger is put inside you, this time he goes faster and you are close, you can feel it despite not wanting to let him knowing it. “now be a good boy/girl/person and i will show you how to experience the best pleasure ever.”
the fingers began moving faster and faster, making [name]’s muffled moans turned into agonizing yells, trying to find anything to focus instead of the sensation that is inside your body. you attempt to imagine to be anywhere else, but not here, pretend that you are just with your late friends back at the town. pretending you aren’t living through hell.
and for what felt like hell, you finally came due to his fingers. a soft whimpering as you are finally give up of fighting and is already too tired from yelling for mercy, now your thighs and the sheets are dirty by your fluids, ruining the peaceful night that you wished to had, yet at least theo is over, meaning that you can go back to sleep…then you heard his zipper goes off.
“now, it’s my turn, [name].”
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@moonit3 writings
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Text
Thunderous
Pairing: Fem!Reader x Bang Chan
Word Count: 11K
Genre: Werewolf AU! Royalty AU!
Warnings: There are some elements of non-con in this fanfic. Please don’t read if you don’t like those elements. Mentions of knotting and rough sex. There’s also a lot of explicit smut and language throughout.
Summary: The Wolf King’s name seared your heart. You had been chosen as the youngest and most expendable daughter to be his mate. But you were terrified of the legends surrounding his bloody campaigns. How were you going to survive?
Tag List: @armystay89 @captainchrisstan @starseekersworld @melsunshine @kibs-and-bits
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The Wolf King’s name whispered through the trees and hummed between the villages like the ancient stories of the gods.
Some of the villagers claimed that he could transform—bones cracking and teeth elongating until there was no man left. They said his claws could cut through trees and that his howl silenced the instincts of the mountain lions who cowered in their dens. In place of human skin, fur sprouted thick and rough, darkening until it matched the color of the shadows.
The myth and lore had been passed down for years, and you found yourself on the receiving end of all those stories. As the Wolf King’s future mate, you had also become something of an enigma around the kingdom. People looked at you with a glint of respect, bowing their heads and moving out of your way whenever you made your rounds. 
The attention that you hated. Especially when the marriage had been arranged without your willing compliance. Young girl fantasies of handsome princes and distant lands vanquished in an instant. But even if you couldn’t indulge in happiness anymore, there had been a time when you allowed yourself to dream about your wedding. 
Bubbling colors of red and green—like your kingdom’s annual yuletide celebrations—and a long, flowing white gown extending across the floor like an elegant brush of paint. Pure as you had always been. There was beautiful music in your dream, and a gorgeous prince to take you into his arms and glide you across the floor like the clouds moving in the sky.
Fantasies, indeed.
Instead, of merriment and goodwill, you found yourself trembling from head to toe, holding tight to the sleeve of your handmaiden’s gown as she escorted you through the recital hall, down the aisle to where you recognized the Wolf King waiting.
You had only met him twice before. Once, when you had just turned twelve, on the day your families agreed to meet over the prospect of securing peace between your rival kingdoms.
When you were both little children, the Wolf King had no reputation. He was just a boy, and you greeted him with a smile—ignorant of the true purpose of your first meeting. While your parents talked about the future, you showed the Wolf King your favorite flowers, handing him individual stems while your mother bargained your life away:
“A union is our commitment to peace,” your mother had once proclaimed, reaching out to softly pat your curls. “We think they’ll do well together.”
“Yes.” But Chan’s mother didn’t seem convinced. She was an elegant and beautiful woman with long black hair and bright red eyes to match his defining features. “Chan will decide who he wants to marry,” his mother said.
“Y/N will make a good wife when she comes of age,” your mother insisted. “We’ll hire the best teachers to ensure that she is prepared for her duties.”
“That matters little to us,” Chan’s father spoke, and he regarded you like one might grimace at an annoying ant to step on.
You shied away from his intimidating stare, looking instead at Chan as he designed a flower crown for you, placing it on top of your head with a proud smile.
It was the last time he would ever show such kindness.
Over the years proceding your first meeting, Chan became a man, and his reputation for ruthlessness and fury ignited a storm of gossip. 
“The Wolf King stands taller than the gods!”
“The Wolf King slaughtered a village because they refused to bow down to him!”
“He’s a monster! Have mercy on us all!”
You became terrified at any mention of the Wolf King, wondering if your parents were still serious about a union. You found out the hard way when your mother invited the Wolf King and his generals to your kingdom. But you didn’t stick around for very long.
The next time you met, you were sixteen, and you ran away to the gardens in a rare show of rebellion against your parents who had expected you to dress pretty and show off for Chan.
But that wasn’t in your nature, and your instincts screamed at you to avoid the Wolf King. And you thought that you were alone in the forest. Surrounded by the quiet of the thick foliage. But then you heard the bushes move, and you noticed a large black head peering at you with piercing red eyes.
You relaxed when you realized that it was just a common wolf—probably one from the mountain packs, and you weren’t frightened. Animals had always held a special place in your heart, and you approached the wolf with palms upturned to show your peaceful intentions. The wolf never moved, and you stroked your fingers through the coarse fur on his head. 
You returned home that evening thinking your father would scold you for running off like that. But you were instead warmly greeted by your parents who were both ecstatic. “He agreed to marry you, Y/N!” your mother exclaimed. “Isn’t that wonderful?”
It wasn’t.
Not at all.
And you had never experienced real fear in your entire life. But walking down the aisle in the chapel to where the fearless Wolf King waited for you, there was a bone-chilling tremble aching down your spine.
“So beautiful,” you heard faint whispers join together, urging you closer and closer to the Wolf King who gazed at you with the most intense stare you had ever received.
When you were within earshot, the Wolf King snatched your hand from the poor handmaiden who had been helping you walk down the aisle.
The girl quickly jumped to the side, bowing her head as the Wolf King forced you to stand in front of him, reaching down for your other hand. You reluctantly gave it to him, still looking at everything except for the Wolf King’s eyes, even if the little growl he gave showed that he disapproved.
You could hear your mother’s chastising voice in your head, scolding you for not pleasing the King. But you didn’t care anymore. Wasn’t it enough that you were standing there, giving your life away to a monster?
In the distant background, you could hear the priest delivering his lines, and when it was your turn, you gave your vow of allegiance, even if the words fell hot like acid from your unwilling tongue.
Thankfully, the ceremony did not require you to kiss him, dodging his wayward lips when they fell too close to yours. 
There was a rush when the proceedings concluded, the firm ushering of hands leading you out of the chapel. You stumbled in your heels, bringing yourself inadvertently closer to the Wolf King who held tighter to your waist. You did not enjoy the closeness, swallowing down your nerves as you tried not to think about what came next.
The crowd eventually parted, giving you enough space to walk down the steps in the open air, briefly acknowledging the cheering crowd spread through the streets. There was a distinct awe in the noise from the people around you, clambering over one another to get a good like at yourself and the predator who would soon claim you for his own. Wanting to acquaint themselves with your kingdom’s bargaining chip—a small sacrifice to ensure an alliance between your people and the ones who fought under Chan’s domain.
On paper, it seemed like a worthy solution to helping your kingdom protect its borders and fight off invaders. The problem was that you felt the weight of pleasing a man you had no interest in—someone who frightened you to your core. A sick knot tightened in your guts and your stomach clenched tighter as Chan led you to Castle Miroh—the notorious landmark of his territory symbolizing the power of the ruling family.
As the main doors parted, you winced at the sensation of the cold and harsh air inside, and a shiver passed down your spine as you forced yourself to keep up with Chan’s incessant pace, footsteps clacking against marble. It was dark in the corridors, and the only lighting came from the flames ensconced along the walls, casting everything in shadows. Ahead in the distance, you could see the outline of a grand staircase, and your eyes worked tirelessly to mark each step on your darkened path.
It turned out that Chan kept his quarters on the highest floor, latching your fingers together the entire time, even as you forced down the bile permanently hitched at the back of your throat at the thought of all the blood that had stained those hands. 
At the top of the staircase, you were pulled to the left, marching down an impressive corridor with a soft, velvet carpet beneath your soles. Eventually, you found yourself in front of a large, wooden door, and Chan ushered you through the frame, a hand to your lower back as your eyes paused on the King-sized bed waiting beneath an unholy painting of a bloody battle scene.
You will present yourself to the Wolf King, you recalled the words of your tutor. He will expect obedience from his mate.
You blinked away tears, knowing what you were expected to do next, and deciding to push through your nerves before you lost the contents of your stomach on the floor. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to run, but you ignored your instincts, loosening the straps of your dress to allow it to pool into a mess on the floor at your feet, and kicking it aside as you eliminated the remaining distance to the bed. 
You didn’t want to show him that you were weak. That he had any sort of influence that might condemn you a coward. You could not be seen as pathetic in the eyes of a monster, crawling on hands and knees to the center of the bed, head ducked down between your trembling arms and waiting.
Your breath caught when the bed dipped beneath his weight, and you gritted your teeth, feeling his hands take your hips with a powerful grip, nails digging into the soft skin.
The Wolf King will fuck you, your tutor had said, Then he will bite you to complete the mating ritual.
You had seen the Wolf King’s teeth. Sharp like razors and pointed at the ends. You would be a bloody mess at the end of this, but no one could ever accuse you of shirking your responsibilities. You had done everything expected of you, holding on to this thought of solace as you waited for him to take his fill.
“Don’t,” he abruptly whispered, startling you as he laid down on the mattress at your side, closing his eyes and letting out a grumble, completely unbothered with his own nakedness. 
It must’ve happened while you were turned away, but it was still jarring to see so much pale skin on display, marred with jagged scars and scarlet bruises. Eyes trailing over the swell of his chest, over the ridges of his abs, and down to this impressive cock. 
You swallowed hard. “Aren’t you going to fuck me?”
“No,” Chan said, chest deflating. “You do not want that.”
His response surprised you, and you wanted nothing more than to hurriedly tuck the sheet around your body to hide you from him. “I thought you were meant to-”
“We are equals,” Chan interrupted with a much firmer tone. “And you are afraid.”
Equals? The word didn’t seem right coming from him, but you weren’t about to question what was seemingly amounting to an act of mercy. Quick as a flash, you had the sheet bundled against your chest, eyes wide as you looked him over. “The mating-”
“We can do the bite,” Chan continued as if he didn’t care that he wasn’t fulfilling the only purpose you had been given. “But in the morning. The celebrations earlier exhausted me. Such frivolous trivialities.”
“Won’t they notice-”
“Who are they?” Chan barked with a hint of a growl that had you flinching. “There is no one who orders the King around.”
His dark pupils met yours in the dark, searching for something. You swallowed hard, unsure what he was looking for, but focusing on the calming sensation of relief flooding your system at his unexpected mercy. “Thank you.”
He gave a curt nod, dipping his head to the space next to him. “Sleep.”
You obeyed, wondering if you could sleep next to him, even if he had shown you some degree of kindness. It still didn’t erase his bloody reputation, and it worried you to no end that you would be sleeping next to a killer. Born to fight his way to power and rule over his kind. 
You took a deep breath, holding tight to the sheet, and closing your eyes. Perhaps it was the roller coaster of emotions weighing down on you from the day’s events, but you did manage to find sleep, even if it was troubled. Nightmares of wolves following you through the woods, red irises piercing you from the shelter of the trees, and claws slicing through flesh. 
You gasped when your eyes sprung open against an onslaught of bright, morning light, heart palpitating in your chest when you met those same eyes looking down at you from above. Chan was a step ahead of you as if he could predict your movements, grabbing your hands in one of his own to hold them above your head. One of his powerful thighs slung across your lower body, holding you in place with a strength that ignited a fire of burning adrenaline. 
“Hold still,” he said, giving you no other warning before teeth sank into the side of your neck, and your body panicked, fighting against him. Like he might take a chunk out of your neck and leave you on the bed to bleed out. Crimson against the cream-colored sheets. 
Immediately, a pulsating shock erupted from the site of the wound, forcing a scream from between your lips at the overwhelming pain. “I know,” he said, and it was barely discernible over the sounds of your cries, unashamed to lose all inhibitions at the sensation of a pain you had never experienced before.
The Wolf King moved over top of you, and you flinched when you felt his tongue start to lap at the painful bite mark on your shoulder. “The pain will stop soon,” he said. “I’m sorry you have to suffer.”
You held back a whine, digging your nails into the soft flesh of your palms. You supposed he had helped the sting, but it still felt like a piece of glass was being sliced across your skin. Even if the guilt and remorse in his gaze were almost enough to distract you.
“Relax,” he soothed, releasing your hands which instinctively went to wipe at your eyes, drying the salty wetness that had accumulated. 
“I- I can’t...”
“You can because you are mine now,” he declared in a tone that had a different flame sparking in your chest. 
You nodded against the pain, focusing on taking deep breaths, and letting darkness take you under once more.
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When you woke again, the King was ready for you. He explained that you were needed in the Throne Room to meet some important people. It turned out that the King had three brothers. They were all younger than him. Or so you had been told.
Their names were Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin. Feared and revered for their triumphs in battle.
Your Wolf King seemed proud to show them off, standing before you in an organized line: from oldest to youngest.
Felix reminded you of your own cousins, with his lithe figure, so much different from the King’s own bulk, and a head of flaming orange-red hair. 
Next to him, in the middle, stood Seungmin. Dressed in dark clothes that only made his already dark hair even more onyx-black. Bright green eyes appraising you slowly.
Finally, there was Jeongin. The tallest of the three. And sporting the same dark-colored hair as his middle brother. He seemed to be the most innocent, eyes wide with wonder.
“They are here to support you,” Chan went on after introductions had passed. “Call on them if you need any help.”
Unlikely, but you forced a nod nonetheless.
“You are dismissed,” Chan informed them after you gave your acquiescence, and you watched them retreat in the same formation down the hall.
In their stead approached a shorter man, dressed in full battle attire. Well-muscled to stretch the fabric of his shirt and pants, with serious dark eyes. “My King,” the man said, bowing once. “You are needed on the training fields.”
You flinched when the man’s eyes found your neck, likely noting the swollen mess that Chan had left behind. “I’ll be there shortly, Changbin,” Chan said, and he waited until the man was gone before looking at you. “The Castle is yours, my Queen. Feel free to look around and acquaint yourself with your new home.”
“I will,” you whispered, forcing yourself to stay still when he leaned in to press a chaste kiss to your forehead. 
“Tonight, we can eat together,” came his parting words, and you grimaced at the idea of sharing a meal with him. 
But the concept of sharing a meal with him was nowhere near as horrible as the idea that this place could ever be considered your home. What a nasty thought! This place was nothing more than a prison forced upon you because your parents were desperate for Chan’s allegiance.
“Why did he agree?” you huffed to yourself, spinning on your heel to start the trek back to your room—as much as you could remember. “Leaving me here as if I know where anything is!”
For months leading up to your shared nuptials, you had pondered the reason why the powerful Wolf King had even agreed to marry you in the first place. Neither of your meetings had been particularly impactful, and your Kingdom had nothing to benefit his own; in fact, your alliance was more of a detriment to Chan and his people—a burden that he willingly took on.
You turned the corner to the last corridor, grateful that you had managed to retrace your steps, faltering when you noticed something on the floor outside of your door. You kneeled to retrieve it, glancing at the writing and noting with a happy hum that it was addressed from the Northern Highlands!
“Grace!” you exclaimed, clutching the envelope to your chest as you quickly rushed inside your room, glancing back to ensure the door was locked before hopping onto the bed to rip the contents open.
Dear Y/N,
Congratulations on your marriage to Bang Chan - it will be a strong alliance for our parents and their Kingdom. 
I apologize for my absence - Hyunjin was unable to make the accommodations.
As you know, snowfall comes to the Highlands in the upcoming months. It will soon be impossible for me to journey to you, or for you to make the journey here. I’d love to see you and your new husband before it is difficult to do so.
Please write to me when you can to arrange a visit.
Lovingly,
Grace
You read over the letter twice before releasing a deep sigh. Would your Wolf King even indulge in such a trip? Perhaps it wasn’t even necessary for him to go. You could make the trip on your own.
You held fast to that thought, of getting away from your prison even if only for a few days, as you lounged around in your room for the remainder of the day. There was little to entertain yourself with, re-reading Grace’s letter over and over again, and sitting outside on the little veranda attached to your room to watch the clouds moving in the sky.
It would be another mercy to escape Chan’s presence if you were to head North alone, but you were afraid that you were pushing your luck, wincing when you heard the door to your chambers opening again, returning inside from your observation of the grounds to greet Chan as you were expected to do.
“My queen,” he rumbled, reaching out to hold your shoulders between both hands, a grip that was impossible to mistake. “Were you able to see more of the Castle?”
“Yes,” you lied through clenched teeth, only breathing a little easier when he released you, eyes dropping to the letter in your hands.
“What is that?”
“It is from my sister,” you explained. 
“I see.”
“She wasn’t able to attend the wedding,” you went on, saving yourself a bit of time as you scrambled for the best way to drop the news to him. Maybe it would just be best to try a blunt approach, giving him your demands since he insisted on calling you an equal. “I wish to see my sister,” you said, refusing to meet his gaze. “Before it is too dangerous to make the trip to the Northern Highlands.”
Chan grunted at your request, and you weren’t well-versed in his language to know what that meant. “She invited you?”
“I can go alone,” you said. “If it is too much for you.”
“I would love to come with you,” he said, disregarding the determination in your tone. “It will give us more time to spend together on our own.”
“Oh.” Your gaze remained trained on the floor, hopes dashed that you could leave him behind. 
“It will be nice to visit there,” he said. “I will make the arrangements. You may write her back to expect us very soon.”
“As you wish,” you sighed, trying to keep the disappointment from your tone, flinching when he grabbed one of your wrists. He didn’t seem perturbed by your reaction, and you watched as he pulled a delicate piece of jewelry from his pocket.
“Well?” he smiled, something that made you shiver. “What do you think?”
“What is it?” you asked in return, resisting the urge to pull back the wrist clasped between his scarred fingers. Even if you did manage to finally meet his gaze.
“It is a gift for you,” Chan said with a smile you were not expecting—blinding and warm. “I made it myself.”
“You made this?”
“As our traditions dictate,” he agreed, keeping a firm hold on your wrist to clasp the little bracelet around your delicate flesh. “It is meant to show our bond to the world.”
You studied it curiously, noting the simple design and the small wolf-shaped carvings engraved in the metal. It was cold against your skin, even as the heat from his body balanced it out.
“Shall we eat?”
He dropped your wrist, and you were able to gather your bearings. “Of course.” You managed a nod, watching as he opened the door wide, allowing a small servant girl to enter the room.
The girl offered you both a respectful bow before she started to set the table, laying out silverware and fine china plates. Behind her, another girl rolled in a cart, wheels squealing on the floor, with prepared food steaming from beneath metal lids. 
“Here, sit with me,” Chan said, patting the space on the bed next to him. “Until they are ready.”
You obeyed, sitting down next to him. Your gaze remained trained on the servant girls, moving about in a well-rehearsed manner as if they had done this too many times to count. 
He reached for your hand, and you did your best not to flinch. “Look,” he whispered, urging you to follow his gaze. “This line on your hand, do you see the way it moves?”
You shivered as he traced the mark he referred to, following it up and down the length of your palm. “Yes,” you whispered, struck by the unexpected intimacy of the gesture.
Goosebumps followed the trail he left on your wrist, and you held your breath when he brought it to his lips. “The same as mine,” he said, almost reverently. Your eyes widened, breath hitching as he aligned your hands together. “A perfect match.”
You could hardly believe it, eyes searching back and forth, but seeing the same line digging into both of your skin. Like it belonged there. 
“There are reasons for everything,” he said, and you felt a small flicker of shame when you read his knowing gaze as if he could sense those dark thoughts that you sheltered about him—wondering why you out of everyone in the world had been chosen to stand at his side. “I wouldn’t question so much,” he continued. “The things that fall into place so perfectly.”
He offered you a wink, surprisingly playful for a man of his reputation. “Let’s eat.”
You nodded, the most you could, and followed him to the table. He was polite as always, allowing you to pick first, waiting until your first bite before claiming his own. You were content, at that moment, to answer the questions he threw your way, increasingly aware of the way the place he had touched warming and the mark on your neck drummed in a gentle pulse.
The rest of the evening passed uneventfully, and there was less trepidation in your soul when you lay with Chan to sleep. 
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You journeyed to the Highlands the next morning, riding behind Chan on horseback, leaving the Wolves’ imposing Castle behind. There was a lightness about you as distance added more miles to your ride, growing brighter and brighter the further you traveled. Even with light conversation petering between you and Chan, you had never been freer in your entire life, the wind blowing back your hair as you soared across the plains.
Despite his repeated requests for you to take a break, you were determined to make it to your sister’s palace before nightfall. You wanted to see her outside, in the meadows that spread invitingly across the Highlands, and walk together just the two of you as you did as children.
There was excitement spiking hot adrenaline in your veins when the hills opened up in the distance, revealing a gorgeous mountain Castle with imposing towers and the familiar flags of your sister’s powerful family. She belonged to Hyunjin, taking his name and crest, and it made you sad to realize that there was a greater distance between you both. You loosened your grip on Chan’s waist, not realizing your grip on him.
You had grown tired of being around him, constantly blinded by the weight of his shadow. At least out here, with the sun beaming down from above, you could feel great relief from the pressure lightening. Perhaps there should be shame associated with your actions, but as soon as you could identify a familiar shape up ahead, you were already leaping from the horse despite Chan’s protests.
Thankfully, your sister was there to greet you, surrounded by two guards. Immediately, you jumped from your steed, falling into her arms and inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume. “Grace,” you squealed, keeping her held tight to you as if it would be the last time you could ever do so. 
“Y/N,” she sing-songed back, and you smiled at her playful attitude, only growing a little despondent when you detected Chan’s approach from behind.
“Hello,” she greeted Chan with a polite bow. “It is an honor to welcome you to the Northern Highlands.”
“Your palace is beautiful,” Chan complimented, and you shivered when he drew fingers down the length of your spine—a show of affection that you would never get used to experiencing.
“Thank you,” she said, turning around to gaze back at it as if she were seeing it for the first time. “It has centuries of history.”
“I have heard the tales,” Chan remarked. “From when I was a boy.”
You tried not to snort, not wanting to relive any memories of Chan from his boyhood. Grace’s careful eyes, however, seemed to detect something, and she looked at you with a curious gaze. “Well, I can show you to your quarters.”
“No need, I’m sure one of your guards will know the way. I think Y/N has been waiting for some time with you. I’ll leave you both alone,” he said, even without your prompting, and your sister gave you a familiar smile.
“As you wish,” she said with a little curtsy, beckoning a guard forward with stern orders to help the Wolf King settle in while you and Grace took a stroll of the grounds.
You held your breath, not wanting your impatience to show as the arrangements were made. Only once Chan had started in the direction of the Castle, guards following him closely, did you exhale. Reaching for Grace’s hand, and tugging her forward.
“No need to drag me!” Grace chuckled at your actions, and she linked your arms together, steering you toward the familiar meadows.
You both settled into easy conversation as it always seemed to happen, topics flowing from one to another. There was a lot to catch up on, things left unsaid from your sad exchange of letters. Rumors swirling around the highlands, and stories from your own homeland that you consumed greedily, excited for any mention of your little Kingdom.
Even if you didn’t really belong to it anymore.
You wanted to walk forever, to keep going beyond the highlands. Escaping to a distant land with just you and Grace. A place where you could both live in peace and go about your days just chatting and reading together by the fireplace as you did when you were children.
She laughed at your complaints, forcing you to return to the Castle when the sun had started to set. Thankfully, you didn’t go all the way inside just yet, and the two of you sat down at one of the picnic tables in the gardens. As you settled next to Grace, bowing politely to the maids who brought you both a cup of tea, you frowned as you recognized Chan between the hedges, strolling along with Hyunjin, Grace’s King, down the trodden paths between the mazes. 
You did your best to ignore him, focusing instead on the moment you had with your sister. The setting sun was warm as you reclined your head, eyes closed as you accepted the gracious touch—burning just as hot as your sister’s intense stare.
“Do you have something to say?” you huffed. “I can feel you looking at me.”
Her smile was clear in her tone. “You just seem...different.”
“How so?”
“Like you’ve been tamed.”
Your eyes flew open at the comment, glaring at her. “Stuck in an arranged marriage, you mean?”
“Mine was arranged as well, but you can rest assured that I don’t take the same comfort from my particular suitor.”
“I hardly take comfort from the Wolf King,” you argued, but Grace simply shrugged.
“You’ve never seen things as I do.”
“What’s so bad about Hyunjin anyway?” you asked instead, to direct the conversation away from Chan,
Her smile curdled. “He keeps busy with his whores,” she said, shocking you with such an accusation.
“Grace-”
“Don’t.” Your sister sighed. “There’s nothing you can do.”
She attempted to restore her previous smile, looking back over your shoulder with a sigh. “I like your Wolf King,” she eventually said. “He cares about you a lot. I haven’t seen him take his eyes away from you once.”
Grace must be imagining things. “He’s tolerable at best,” you decided, earning yourself a sigh from your sister.
“My how your perspective has changed,” she remarked, finally turning her attention to the lukewarm tea in front of her. “You were kicking and screaming when you first learned of the marriage.”
“It is something that was forced on me!”
“But you’re not the only one, Y/N,” Grace said with a tone filled with sadness.
Suddenly, you felt chastened and guilty for even protesting her. “For us both, it has created nothing but discomfort.”
“I think there is potential in your match,” Grace argued. “You resist because you are stubborn in nature, but I think there could be good things for you if you just tried to make it work. Wouldn’t it be better, sister, to live with him as lovers than as cold strangers?”
“He is too wild for marriage,” you weakly protested. But your argument held no merit, and you hated the logic in her words, turning away to glare into the distance.
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Night passed before your eyes, like the dimmest flicker, and you had never been more unhappy to greet the rising sun. 
It seemed that all good things inevitably came to an end, and you were holding back tears when you parted from Grace the next morning, holding the embrace for far too long. Even as you allowed Chan to help you back onto the horse, positioned directly behind him on the saddle, you kept your gaze trained behind you, watching Grace grow smaller and smaller.
Until she was gone.
Your heart was heavy when you returned to Chan’s castle that same afternoon, but your foul mood didn’t last for long. Distracted as you were, surprised by the bustling activities throughout the grounds, everyone scrambling for something you couldn’t identify. “Our moon festival,” Chan explained. “We will be shifting tonight.”
Oh, right. You had forgotten about that part, too distraught reminiscing on your brief moment of freedom with Grace. “I almost forgot.”
“There will be a feast tonight,” he explained. “We will both join as King and Queen.”
You scowled at the idea. “As you wish.”
Chan frowned at the comment. “You must be tired from the journey,” he continued, choosing not to react to your passive comment. “Feel free to rest in our quarters. I will come get you later.”
You agreed with a half-hearted grunt of acknowledgment. Sleep did sound like a much-needed relief from the exhaustion threatening each unsteady step you took up the stairs. It was what you blamed your disorientation on, barely noticing when Chan leaned in to give you a chaste kiss on your cheek.
That same spot burned under the barely-there attention. But you chose to ignore it, instead focusing on how your feet were throbbing when you landed on top of your bed with a huff, allowing tears to escape as you gave yourself a moment to purge the nasty emotions that had built after leaving the Highlands. Unable to do so as you rode behind Chan.
There were too many different emotions piled on throughout the day, mixing with a heady combination of your exhaustion from traveling. Countless thoughts also swirled through your head, and it was inevitable that you would fall under, losing yourself to the easy promise of sleep. An easier task than grappling with your conflicted feelings. 
Darkness greeted you like an old friend, and your dreams were wild. One moment you were back with Grace, strolling through the meadows. The next, you found yourself in an empty forest, shadows chasing each breath evaporating on cold air, ensnared by a pair of red eyes in the thick foliage.
You stumbled on the undergrowth, falling backward ungracefully. You only had the wherewithal to put a hand over your face, trying to block everything out, as those eyes descended on you. Fear caught in your throat, and it was the lasting image that haunted you as you jerked upright in bed, barely withholding a scream when those same eyes met you in the real world.
“Y/N.”
Chan’s voice was deep, guttural in its intensity, and filled with concern. You flinched when fingers came out to gently remove sweaty bangs from your eyes, heart thunderous inside your chest. His hand paused in its motions, and for a fleeting second, you thought you might drown in his stare.
“Sorry,” you whispered. “Bad dreams.”
“I see.”
There was a question in his tone, but you didn’t know how to provide an answer, choosing instead to gently push his hand away. “It’s nothing to worry about.”
He nodded, lower lip caught between his teeth. “If you’re certain...”
You studied him for a moment, wishing that you could confide in him. But there was still a great distance between you, perhaps put there by your own accord, but heavy in its existence. “I shall get ready.”
Chan allowed you the space, agreeing to meet you in the hallway as you rose to get dressed, finding the dress that had been laid out for you by the maids. You slipped the fabric over your body, shivering as the silkiness slid across your skin like a lover’s caress.
True to his word, Chan was waiting patiently on the other side of the door, and you hesitated before taking the outstretched hand offered to you. Unprepared for when it pulled you in closer, under the scrutiny of his affectionate gaze. “Beautiful,” he declared, nostrils flaring as if taking in the scent of the perfume you sprayed. 
“Thank you,” you offered in return, choosing to keep silent as he led the way, helping you down the stairs in your heels. 
For once, you willingly stayed close to Chan, especially as you approached the Great Hall where the festivities would take place. Chan led you into the dining room, perhaps a bit too hastily, uneasy with the weight of his people’s stares boring down upon your figure. Dressed simply in that white gown—pure, as you had always remained—and looking entirely out of place amongst battle-hardened soldiers. 
You caught Changbin’s stare from across the room as you sat at the head of the table next to the King. There was lust in his gaze. And it deeply unsettled you, to the point that even Chan caught your shiver.
He followed your gaze to Changbin who looked away at once. “Tradition says that the King can share his mate,” Chan whispered. “But I will not share you with him. So he can only look.”
You weren’t sure what to say to that. So you didn’t say anything in return. “I didn’t know.”
There was a brief moment of silence, and then Chan stood, addressing the room. “Let’s feast together, comrades! We run together at the moon’s highest cycle!”
A chorus of cheers and howls greeted his words, and everyone started to fill their plates, easy conversation flowing between the wolves like the smell of the delicious-looking platters laid out before you. Still, your stomach revolted, swimming in circles as you picked at the helping Chan had served you. You wrinkled your nose when his grease-stained fingers brought a piece of chicken to your lips, and you forced yourself to take it from him. 
Chan sighed as you chewed, forcing the morsel down your throat as it stung. “I won’t be with you tonight, of course. We will likely stay out in the moonlight until dawn. But I will return in the morning.”
“Okay.” You shrugged, seemingly indifferent. Some time to yourself seemed nice. And you weren’t keen on being outside when they were no longer human. 
“You don’t have to be miserable here, my Queen,” Chan suddenly said, tone taking on a hardened edge. Perhaps the first time he had ever sounded stern with you. “Wolves mate for life, and they choose their partners seriously”
You contemplated his words, chosen ever so carefully. “I - I will try,” you managed, recalling Grace’s advice from the previous day.
To live as lovers rather than strangers. 
He hummed at your agreement, eyes glued to your form as he appraised you with something akin to curiosity. “Don’t roam so far from the castle tonight. It isn’t dangerous, but it is your first time. Of course, there’s usually nothing to fear in the gardens.”
There was a layered hint in his words, but you chose not to think about it too much, simply nodding your head as you resumed your task of picking at your food. There was nothing wrong with the offering in front of you, but your newfound uneasiness mixed with your emotional charge from earlier—it had not yet completely dispelled itself from your system—left an unpleasant ache in your chest.
As if something was missing…
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Later that night, long after the wolves left the castle, you realized you couldn’t sleep even if you tried, listening to the chorus of howls from outside the castle walls. They rang through the night, loud and clear, and harmonized with one another as if perfectly in sync. Perhaps they were since Chan and his wolves shared a tight bond, and you wondered what it must be like to be so perfectly in tune with one another.
It was these thoughts that plagued you, and even as midnight came and went, you grew more restless. You resolved to walk through the castle, to quell your thoughts and ease your mind. Even as your footsteps echoed through the halls, you found yourself becoming more awake instead of the opposite effect.
Fresh air would be nice, you thought until you remembered the wolves outside. But then again, Chan did promise you that the gardens would be safe. You could trust him, right? Or was that the problem? Your lack of trust in someone meant to be your partner. 
You resolved yourself in that moment to try. And if that meant venturing out into the gardens, then no one could accuse you of being silent and passive. This was your attempt at trying, and if it ended badly, then you would have all the more leverage to ignore him.
However, despite your attempts to steel your resolve, you found your heart beating impossibly fast when you greeted the moonlight outside. Each lungful of air that you forced down your lungs felt like sharp knives attacking your flesh. Gaze swimming in front of you, footsteps unsteady as you entered the hedge maze surrounding the gardens.
You inhaled deeply, trying to find comfort in the familiar smell of the foliage. There was a strange air of peace surrounding you, and that was all the solace you needed to keep going, admiring the way the colors of the blooming flowers bled in a different light. It was easy to grow distracted by the sight, as beautiful as it was, and perhaps you could blame your wandering eye for failing to adequately identify the rustling of something large in the undergrowth of the forest. 
You hummed to yourself, leaning down to run your fingers over the soft petals of a rose. Its usual red was subdued somehow, under the moon’s glow, and you smiled at the effect, completely ignorant of a different red seeping through the hedges near your right.
It wasn’t until a gentle whimper sounded that you jerked to a stop, hand fluttering to cover your chest as you whipped around to locate the source of the sound. And what stood before you, as powerful as the looming mountains above the castle, nearly had you falling to your knees.
Except, you realized upon a second cursory glance, that there was something uncannily familiar about the beast in front of you, and it only took you another moment to make the connection. A gasp fell from your lips when you realized that it was the wolf from your childhood—the one you had found that day Chan visited your home for the second time. The one you played with in the gardens. The one you spent time with just talking and believing it was nothing more than a common wolf.
You stumbled then, recognizing the now familiar crimson eyes looking back at you—the same ones that belonged to your husband. The wolf, your Wolf King, butted his giant head against your outstretched hand, giving an affectionate lick to your fingertips.
“I understand,” you whispered, unable to decipher the emotion in your voice, but one thing that you knew for certain—there was a clear absence of fear. Because you had never feared this wolf, always approaching it with happiness, completely ignorant of its true state. 
The wolf gave you a meaningful look, and you were struck by the humanness of the gesture. Understanding dawned on you—Chan had always known. He had always known it was you—the one his wolf had chosen. The girl who had never shown fear to a beast that others considered a monster. 
You had known Chan for your entire life without even realizing it, and your eyes welled with tears, watching him toss back his head and release a spine-curdling howl. One that was joined by a chorus of beautiful melodic cries, merging and joining together, and reaching down to your very bones.
You dropped to your knees then—a mere speck before the Wolf. You cried without fear, and this time, the tension between you and your King vanished like the stars in the night sky when dawn cracked across the horizon.
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Three Months Later
On most mornings, Chan was gone before you woke up, and that left you with a disconcerting feeling of disappointment. You supposed there was much to do for the King of the Castle, but lately, it made you ache for something you couldn’t quite discern.
For the past several months, you found yourself opening up to the Wolf King in ways you would’ve never imagined. The truth of who he was, the Wolf from your childhood, along with Grace’s well-intentioned advice, had managed to crack through the stoic guard you had raised from the moment you bound yourself to him.
He taught you about the bond—how, even if you weren’t a Wolf and couldn’t experience the same emotions, he could feel each flicker of happiness or stroke of sadness as it moved through you. 
You had not known of this connection before—because of your stubborn nature—and you would always regret resisting it. But things were better, and you could see the beauty in the bond and how truly spectacular it was to feel and understand another person so intimately. It made you wonder—for longer and longer periods of time—just how deep you could make that bond.
Curiosity weighed heavy on you, and your eyes cracked open at a gentle knocking on the door—an opportunity presenting itself when you recognized a familiar servant girl entering your room. “Good morning, Y/N,” she said, and you nodded in return.
At first, you had kept yourself closed off to the other maids, but this one in particular, Ivy, had been insistent. It was hard to deny her, especially when she became your best teacher, indulging you in learning everything related to the wolves and their way of life.
She was also quite willing and open to help you with anything, even if it involved the more intimate parts of your relationship with the Wolf King. You brought it up again that morning, growing more and more confident, especially since Ivy was completely shameless when it came to that sort of thing.
“I thought about your words from the other night,” you opened the conversation, watching as she put your breakfast down onto the table.
“You’ll have to remind me.” There was a teasing note in her tone, and you glowered at the playful look she shot in your direction.
“We spoke about the King,” you said. “You told me things…what I can do to please him.”
“I remember.” She took a step closer, and you were wary of the look in her eyes. “Does he not fuck you well?” Ivy asked, and her tone was absent of the same filter that would stop your tongue.
Still, you were embarrassed, looking down at your feet, wondering how to disguise the truth. “It doesn’t feel good when it seems like he just uses me to get himself off.”
That much was true as you had heard Chan masturbating next to you on countless nights, and your name often fell free from his lips.
“I see.” Ivy nodded. “He doesn’t know better. He was taught that a good alpha fucks his mate and makes sure that she is pregnant for him.”
You winced at her blunt explanation. “Is that all...wolves need?”
“Not necessarily,” Ivy said with a bright smile. “I can teach you...if you want.”
“Teach me?” you asked, gasping when Ivy placed a hand on your chest, forcing you to fall back on the bed.
She was all smiles when she crawled into your lap, grabbing your hands and securing them to her waist. You gasped when she started rocking her hips into your own, feeling the pleasant ache resonate up and down your spine. “The most important lesson of them all,” Ivy said with a twinkle of mischief in her eye. “The art of seduction.”
“I - Ivy...”
“Tell me, Y/N,” Ivy interrupted your ramblings, leaning down so that the tips of your noses brushed together. “Would you like that? Seducing your wolf? Driving him to the point where he can’t resist taking you?”
You moaned around your response. “Yes! Please show me.”
Her hips rocked harder into yours, and you could see white forming at the edges of your vision. “Leave it to me.”
And you did, surrendering to her touches, and the wicked way she showed you all the ways to drive a King mad. 
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The following night, you bravely waited for your Wolf King to return from patrol, wearing nothing but a sheer robe that left little to the imagination. Sitting on the edge of your shared bed, you caught each breath as it rattled between your lungs. Nervousness eating away at your resolve and leaving the poor skin around your cuticles abused by your touch. 
Ivy’s advice rang clear in your mind as if she were there with you, holding your hands between her own as she taught you how to please the King. You blushed at the memory, hands covering the bare skin beneath your robe, caressing the delicate flesh as she had done the night before. Demonstrating to you the best ways to please a man, and to make him beg for you. 
That kind of power held its curious appeal, and you thought about it constantly. Wondering what it would be like to make Chan lose his mind to the sin of your smell and touch. You could hardly wait, bouncing your leg and jostling the flimsy material of your coverings. 
Thankfully, your Wolf King didn’t make you wait for very long, punctual as always in these recent times of peace in joining you during the evenings. The easy smile he always offered you vanished as soon as he closed the door behind him, eyes locked on your figure clad in so very little.
“Be assertive.” You recalled Ivy’s words, and you stood on shaky legs to take a few tentative steps towards him. The implication was not lost in translation. You could barely get out a greeting before Chan was on you in seconds, gently pushing you back against the wall. He pressed his forehead against yours and you closed your eyes. “You look beautiful,” he whispered, initiating the first indulgent kiss that lit a fire that you felt down to the tips of your toes.
“Then have me,” you said against the purse of his mouth, tongue tracing that full bottom lip. His gaze widened perceptibly, holding you at arm's length.
“What do you mean?”
“Take me the way you want,” you replied. “I’m ready. You love me, don’t you?”
The intensity in that gaze you had started to yearn for burned even brighter. “You know that I love you Y/N, and I understand why it would be hard for you to believe. I’m more than willing to take this chance to show you.”
He pulled away despite the tight grip you kept on his powerful bicep. Even so, you kept your eyes open as wide as possible to enjoy the scene playing out in front of you when he kissed you again. You curled your fingers into his thick black hair, remembering Ivy’s advice, and pulled his mouth against yours, crushing your lips to his. Chan’s chest rumbled as he kissed you fiercely in return, grabbing onto your arms as his tongue plundered the hot cavern of your mouth.   
Your lungs screamed in protest, and you pulled away suddenly, shivering at his resounding whimper. You opened your eyes, keeping your hands in his hair to hold it back from his crimson orbs. You found the lust there, making his eyes appear darker.  “It’s so hard for me to do this,” you said softly. “I- I want to please you…”
“You don’t have to do anything,” Chan replied. He pressed his hips into yours and you felt something hard against your stomach. “Y/N,” Chan murmured, leaning into your neck to inhale deeply. “I want you more than anything else.”
You shivered as you felt his other hand come to the sleeve of your gown, slowly sliding it down your shoulder. His fingertips slid across your skin, weakening your resolve. His lips followed his touch, peppering soft kisses along the exposed skin. He tugged on the fabric more and you felt the fabric at your right breast start to fall, slowly exposing the flesh to him. His blazing eyes looked down at what he had uncovered, as his hand moved up to hold your breast in his palm. You moaned when his thumb started to rub against your nipple, growing alarmed at the sudden ache between your legs. Like before, his lips soon replaced his fingers and you cried out when he gently nipped the sensitive skin.  
He suddenly tugged the fabric back up, releasing your wrists so that he could have both hands when he grabbed the sides of your robe and tugged it aside to reveal your bare skin to him. Your hands fell to your sides as your chest heaved up and down to match each of your panting breaths. Clad in the lingerie Ivy had helped you pick out the previous night. 
Chan’s eyes were glued to your bare torso. With a moan of his own, he pressed a soft kiss to your lips before he trailed his mouth down, over the soft skin of your throat, down your chest, and between the valley of your breasts, over your smooth stomach down to the top of your lace panties. Looking up at you with hungry, lust-filled eyes, Chan started to tug the fabric down your legs.
Clenching your fists against the wall, you couldn’t begin to describe what you felt when he pressed a kiss against the front of your panties, holding your thighs in his strong hands. Standing back up to his full height, he pulled his shirt off next, tossing it onto the floor. You breathed out deeply as your eyes greedily took in the sight of his muscled torso. Timidly, you reached out a hand, aware of his eyes watching your movements as you hovered your palm over his firm abdomen. “Touch him with your fingertips,” Ivy’s words whispered against your ear. He groaned, bracing his arms on either side of you, moving his head against the wall next to your ear. You heard Chan’s husky voice whisper: “Baby, please touch me.”
Your eyes fluttered at his request, and you placed both palms on his hard stomach, moving them up and feeling the muscles tense beneath your touch. Your hands danced across his pectorals, rising along with the muscles. You moved your palms over his shoulders and then back down, pausing when you hit the top of his pants. Before you could muster up the courage to move any lower, Chan’s lips were back on yours, kissing you senseless. You wrapped your arms around his neck, working your mouth against his, feeling your lips become swollen from his kisses. As your tongues touched, you felt Chan’s hands return to your thighs, lifting them so that you had no choice but to wrap your legs around his trim waist. Holding you against him, he carried you into over to the bed to deposit you on top. You missed his warmth as soon as he was gone and opened your eyes to meet his black gaze.
This was your chance. You remembered Ivy’s words and scrambled to get in position. Present. The command burned its way through your whole being as if you had no control over it. Instead, you turned on your hands and knees, arching your back and keeping your ass held high in the air.
You had never done this before, and you felt so exposed, but at the same time so good, so right, and you restrained yourself from trying to cover up against the shameless crimson stare watching you.
Suddenly, all went quiet, prompting you to glance over your shoulder. The Wolf King was staring at your ass, his mouth slightly agape. “Good girl,” was all you heard before Chan dove down abruptly to taste your dripping cunt, dragging his tongue all the way up to the source of the wetness leaking from you with a single, hot swipe, before latching on and sucking eagerly at the sensitive skin around your opening. 
You keened at the sensation and shivered at his satisfied grunts and moans as he took his fill of your taste. It made you want to please him. To do whatever it took to make him completely lose his mind.
“Chan!” You moaned out, reaching beneath him to flick at your neglected clit. “More!” 
Your demand did not go unanswered. With a grunt, Chan yanked your ass up higher for a better angle, digging his hands into the plush flesh of your hips. His touch was rough, and strong, undoubtedly leaving marks behind, but you absolutely loved it. And when the wiggling muscle of his tongue finally pushed inside, you cried out in absolute bliss and pleasure. Time itself seemed to slow down as that tongue relentlessly moved inside you, searching for that spot that could make you see stars and, once found, pressing down hard. Again and again, Chan dipped inside with his tongue, and each time you moaned for him. It didn’t take you long until your body tensed and shuddered, squeezing around the intrusion as you rode out your orgasm. 
With a satisfied groan, Chan released your hips, and you collapsed on your stomach, still aching for him.
You attempted to look back at Chan, groaning when you realized he was pushing down his pants and underwear, freeing his stiffening cock before crawling back over you. You were met with a flurry of kisses, on your lips, your cheeks, and your neck, before his tongue trailed lazily over your chest and down to the delicate curls damp from your release. 
You squirmed under him as he held himself up on his arms, dragging his eyes unbearably slow from your face and down to your toes. He moved one finger down over your stomach, and you watched it enter the forest of blonde curls around your center. Panting, and nearing combustion, you found yourself instinctively thrusting your hips up, begging him for more than just touches. Growling, he practically shoved your hips back to the bed, reaching down and jerking his thick cock with rough strokes. He abruptly flipped you over onto your back, craning his neck to look down into your eyes. “Let me make love to you, Y/N.”
His words sent a flurry of heat straight to your core. You had never had sex before, but you wanted it desperately. You told him as much and could see him visibly shaking. “I’ll go slow,” he promised, kissing your lips tenderly, before reaching down to line himself up at your entrance. You closed your eyes and winced as he pushed into you. Pliant and soft from his earlier ministrations, the bulbous head found little resistance as it breached your cunt.
You could feel his face bury itself into your shoulder, his knuckles turning white as they gripped the bedding, as if it was taking everything he had to go this slow. Once he was buried inside of you completely, you groaned, adjusting to the sudden intrusion. You could feel him still above you, and his teeth teased the skin at your shoulder. “Son of a bitch,” he growled. “It’s taking every ounce of control I have not to flip you over and fuck you senseless.”
His words, as crude as they were, only served to heighten your arousal. “Move,” you said, grabbing his black hair and pulling his face to yours. You kissed him quickly. “I’m fine.”
He needed no further encouragement, as he slowly pulled out before pushing back in. You could see the sweat breaking out across his forehead from the exertion, causing strands of his hair to stick to his forehead. His right hand moved behind you to grip the headboard as his hips slowly rocked against your own. As good as it felt, you could see he was about to lose it. “Faster,” you told him, and he complied, speeding up his thrusts and allowing some of the tension to escape his body. It was a little painful, especially when he let out a low growl and really started grinding his hips.
You could feel it building inside, the pleasure of his rough movements far outweighing the discomfort. You let out another moan as he moved in and out, feeling the smooth friction all the way to the tips of your toes. The Wolf King chose this moment to draw his hips back, dragging his length out to the tip, before slamming it back inside with a powerful thrust, rocking your body to the point that you felt your vision turn white for a moment. Without giving you time to recover, Chan repeated the motion over and over again, speeding up and adjusting the angle to relentlessly hit deep inside, hips bumping your clit with every smooth grind.
He grunted from his efforts, one hand on the headboard while the other came to grab your breast, his lips sucking at your neck. For your part, you arched your back against him, allowing your hips to come up a little to meet his movements as he hit even deeper inside of you, just barely kissing your cervix. Your fingernails scraped down the smooth skin of his back at this new angle. He moaned when your nails dug into his flesh, bringing his lips up to yours and you kissed him feverishly, tasting him like your life depended on it. One of your hands curled into his smooth black hair while the other gripped his bicep tightly, sighing happily as you felt the muscles move.  
You wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to not feel overwhelmed by all of the things he was making you feel. Buried deep inside of you, you could feel him hit all the right spots, sending waves of pleasure to your tight center. Meanwhile, his lips were working magic against yours, leaving you breathless.  
You could feel an intimate warmth building inside of you the longer he snapped his hips against yours. Groaning, you let out a cry as you felt something inside of you break open, releasing wave after wave of heat through your core, leaving your body drowning in pleasure.  
There was a haze of lightheadedness clogging your senses, and you almost didn’t even realize the swell pushing against your ass, until it breached your core. “Chan!” you hissed at the combination of pain and overwhelming pressure, retreating and then swelling again as he ground that hot mass against you.
“My knot,” he groaned, and you could feel the heat from his chest against your breasts as he pressed even closer. 
You vaguely recalled Ivy warning you about this, telling you that it would be hard to prepare for the massive instrution. You felt a spike of fear as it stretched you even further, and you worried that your virgin body would suffer. All you could do was grit your teeth and bury your head into the blankets beneath you, feeling the swell of his knot pressed against the cleft of your ass. You fisted the sheets between your hands. He would split you in half, and then you would be nothing.
“Y/N!” he growled, slowing his hips to a timid roll as his knot locked between you both, and your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you felt his release flood your insides, filling you to the point that your lower stomach had started to swell from his cum. 
He groaned as you both came down from your highs, and you gently petted your finger through his unruly curls. He experimentally rolled his hips to test how firmly the knot was locking him inside and it wouldn’t budge. Your cunt squeezed the knot, eliciting another grunt from Chan, another twitch, and another spurt of hot cum inside of you.
The pop didn’t swell until Chan was fully seated, his thick cock barely able to seat itself fully between your pulsating walls. It was a painful stretch, of course, but you were hardly focused on it.
Chan continued to hump against you, long after his release and teetering on the cusp of oversensitivity, but those seductive hips had lost their rhythm. It was only moments later, as Chan pulled away from your lips and buried his face into your chest, that he growled when something warm filled your center. You let your hand wander down his spine, stroking along the individuals knots. You could feel him breathing hard above you, and you tried to soothe him back to normal.
You were locked together for a long time, and you were almost asleep when Chan was finally able to pull out, collapsing onto the mattress next to you, looking up at the ceiling. You watched as his chest rose and fell quickly until you could barely see it move at all, signifying his return from his high. Your own breaths came out much shorter, and you were aware of the sweat that coated your skin. 
You watched as Chan ran his hand through his dark hair, moving it out of his face. Looking over at you, he turned on his side and used one hand to bring you closer to him, wrapping an arm around your waist. You hummed in delight as your chests pressed together, moving in sync with each other. Chan’s eyes scanned over your face as he leaned in and kissed your forehead. “I love you Y/N,” he said. voice rumbling. “I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it to you.”
You were barely coherent, collapsed against the sheets with a line of drool pooling out from your mouth. Closing your eyes, you let your head fall against his chest, savoring his warmth.  “I trust you,” you said softly, and you could feel him sigh in relief. Simply holding you against him, surrounded by his warmth, you suddenly felt very much like you belonged.
“You and I have always been destined,” Chan whispered, and for the first time since you had taken your place as his Wolf Queen, you weren’t afraid.
Instead, you were irrevocably alive.
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homunculus-argument · 1 month
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Once upon a time there was an Entity, that saw humans for the first time and decided to want one of its own. Gathering together tools, fruit trees, running water, songbirds, sunshine and shade, the Entity created a little container that had everything a human could possibly want and need, and then gently picked one up, and placed her in the enclosure.
"There", the Entity said, "you are mine now, and I have put you here where you have everything you want, because I love you so much. Are you happy?"
"No", the human said, "for I miss my mother and father, and I miss my sister and her children, and I cannot be happy without them." The Entity listened and left, heading back to where it took the human in order to find her kin.
"There", the Entity said, "I have brought your family together, so you are no longer apart. Are you happy now?"
"No", the human said, "for my sister's children miss their father, and my sister misses her too, and none of us can be happy if they are unhappy." The Entity listened and left, heading back to where it toook the humans in order to find the one it neglected to take.
"There", the Entity said as it put down the one last missing human, whose children ran to meet him, crying and laughing from relief. The Entity addressed them all. "Now you have all your family. Are you happy now?"
"No", the humans said, "for my mother misses the neighbours she gossips with, my father misses the friends with whom he played cards, the children miss their playmates, and..." This time the Entity did not even listen to the end, but left back to the place where it had found the humans, and gently scooped up every single human in the city, bringing them to their new beautiful little enclosure.
"There", the Entity said, addressing the whole colony it had gathered into this beautiful paradise that it had made especially for them. "I have now brought all of you together, so none of you are apart. Are you happy now?"
"No", the humans said, "for we miss our beautiful homes, we miss our familiar streets. We miss the fountains and statues and the calls of city birds, and we cannot be happy if we can never go back home again."
So the Entity left, went back to the city that was now empty, carefully picked up the whole thing, and moved it to the enclosure, careful to not alter a single detail, and put everything as it should be. "There", it then said to the humans, "now your homes are here, too. Are you happy now?"
"No", the humans said, "for-"
The Entity sighed in frustration, and began unbraiding the weaves of time, undoing the past several days so that none of this had ever happened, as a creature that wants and yearns so much is simply too much trouble to own.
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storiesfromgaza · 6 months
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Do you see this beautiful girl whose face the sun borrows its light from? Her name is Mesk, Mesk Imad Al-Sousi. In Arabic, the name Mesk means Musk, extracted from deer and used as a beautiful fragrance.
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It is said that children laugh about 400 times a day, which is more than necessary to brighten the day of every human on this earth, as we derive our light and joy from them
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On May 18th, 2022, the day of Mesk's birth, her mother posted:
The birthday of Princess Mesk, my daughter, on this day and month, you opened your eyes to life, and I felt a love and tenderness that never ends. My precious daughter, the most precious thing I have in my life, You're the most valuable gift bestowed upon me by the Almighty Allah. Every year, you are the source of light to my heart, the source of joy to my soul. Happy birthday, my dear, may God protect you, and I wish you a long life. May God keep you and bless you every year. I pray to the Almighty, the Most Exalted, to protect you, and I wish for you a long and prosperous life. May Allah protect and watch over you every year, and may you be well and have a happy birthday. Happy birthday to my dear daughter! Today marks the birthday of my beloved heart. Today is the birthday of my beloved! Today is the birthday of my dear daughter, my love. Today marks the birthday of my cherished daughter! Happy new birthday, and every year, may you be blessed and in good health, my most precious. Today is your joyful birthday. Every year, you are the source of light and joy to my soul. My daughter, my princess, my flower Mesk.
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Mesk became a martyr, falling victim to the treacherous bombardment of the occupation just days ago. Her body was recovered, but this time, her light has faded for eternity
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Six days ago, specifically on November 10th, her father, Imad Al-Sousi, last posted, "Oh Allah, my daughter Mesk is in Your hospitality, so grant her the finest hospitality"
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Mesk died without committing any crime in her life, except that she breathed her first breath in Gaza in a dark world filled with monsters and she paid the price by exhaling her last breath in Gaza too. Just as they pulled her alive from her mother's womb on the day of her birth, they pulled her lifeless body from beneath the rubble...
Do not forget Mesk; she is not just a number.
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xmy-love-to-youx · 6 months
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Pregnancy /w Simon 'Ghost' Riley
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When you told your husband that you were expecting a baby, even with his mask on you could see the color drain from his face.
To anyone that knows him, knows that his most of the time silent but this silence between you both was something new. You couldn't tell if he was happy or not.
As time passed by, anxiety and fear gripped your heart and tears threatened to fall from your eyes. Children were a topic you haven't talked about yet, Simon made it clear he doesn't want children but you two never considered pregnancy a possibility even though you are on birth control.
You rushed to the bedroom, leaving Simon alone in the living room. He was silent, his mind was silent. The only sound that was heard was your muffled crying from the bedroom.
It wasn't long until he made his way to you, the sight of you curled up under the blankets, crying, broke his heart in a way he never knew was possible. He layed himself behind you and held you tightly against him.
He didn't know how to comfort you so he stayed silent and just held your petite body against his rough and larger body.
From that moment on, he stuck to your side. Still processing that you are carrying his baby, he would just stare at your belly. His battling internally with himself. One part wants to run away and the other is telling him to stay and fulfill his duties not just as a husband but as a soon to be father too.
With each month that passes by, he watches your belly expand and it's slowly became clear to him that the baby is a symbol of your love. He was first awkward about touching your pregnant belly.
"Can I?" he asks, his hands glued to the side of his body.
"Yes" you responded with your usual bright smile.
He hesitated and his eyes bounced around the room. You reached for his hand and placed his hand on the curve of your belly and just like that, he instantly fell in love.
Now he talks to his unborn child and gently pokes around just to get the baby to move, a chuckle leaves his lips when he sees the baby push against the inside.
"I can't wait to meet you"
"You know you and your mother are the best things that ever happened to me"
"You have a badass mother, you know that?"
"I'm going to protect you"
His the kind of guy who doesn't want to know the gender until the baby is born. He definitely spends every second with you during the pregnancy. Soap will definitely tease him for it but he doesn't care. His in love with his wife and his unborn baby and wants to be there all the time.
He definitely stops you from being on your feet for too long. He'll gently rush you out of the kitchen and into a chair. He will massage your feet and back without question.
Towards the end of the pregnancy, he was in pain, it's not physically pain. He's heart breaks when you are uncomfortable all the time, the back pains and the intense hormones.
When it was time to give birth, he was panicking more than his wife that's about to birth a tiny human. His with you every step of the way until it came time to push out the baby.
He held your hand and whispered words of encouragement to you, he thought he had everything under control until he peeked and saw his baby wiggling thier way out of you. His eyes widened with shock and he looked at you with those eyes. That's when he realized that your in more pain that it seems.
He snapped to reality when he heard his baby cry for the first time. It was like he spaced out as realization kicked in.
His a father.
When he held that tiny human in his arms, the tears just kept pouring from his eyes and he couldn't stop it. When he heard that his has a baby girl, he protectively held her close to him. He watched her sleep on his chest, skin to skin contact was important to him as he spoke gently to her.
"My little princess"
"My sweet little angel"
"Daddy's little girl"
"I'm gonna spoil you, ya? I bet you'd love that"
Since her birth, his been finding excuses to hold her. Throughout his whole life, he was traumatized and hurt, he had to be cold to protect himself but since you and your baby entered his life. He had a reason to fight, he had a reason to live.
Now, he looks at you with so much love in his eyes. You are his girls and he will always love you.
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Please buy me Ko-fi to support me ❤
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candyskiez · 7 months
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so, you've heard shows be recommended because they had gay characters. you don't really know what they're actually about though, and don't know if they'd be something you'd be into and are worried about spoilers. here's spoiler free plot summaries of em!
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The Owl House
The Owl House starts out as a typical teenage girl goes into a fantasy realm story, but with a twist. Actions have consequences. The protagonist is a girl named Luz Noceda, who was being sent to a camp to make her behave normally by her mother after causing too much trouble at school. She ends up finding a place she's always dreamed of: a fantasy world. A world where everyone's so much weirder than she is. And she thinks, maybe if I don't belong out there, maybe people will like me here. Maybe I can be special here.
It's a story about found family, propaganda, erased history, living with disability, religious trauma, and neurodivergence. It's fundamentally a show about people who's brains work differently finding each other and making a family that treats them right. Definitely my favorite of the ones on this list. It's about people who've been oppressed being pissed about it and about finding yourself again after giving up on everyone around you for so long. It's basically a show about being a minority and trying to be understood and to understand yourself in the process. It's about growing up neurodivergent and how isolating it feels and figuring yourself out. It's about repairing broken relationships and parents who fuck up. And it's just. Such a love letter to anyone who was the weird kid in school. It's sad and heartbreaking and also so hopeful, and it's wonderful.
Content warnings: Abuse, Death, Grief, Animal Death, Suicidal thoughts, Vague suicide attempts, Depression, blink and you'll miss it s/h, body horror, religious trauma
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She Ra and the Princesses Of Power
Adora was raised in the Horde since she was a baby, being fed propaganda about how cruel the princesses were. After learning how the horde actually was, though, she defects. But there's one problem. Her best friend, Catra, stays behind. Adora finds a sword that can transform her into She Ra, and might be the key to figuring out who she really is, while Catra takes her place as force captain.
It's a story about abuse, at the end of the day. Adora and Catra were stuck in a golden child and scapegoat dynamic, despite how much they care about each other. This leads to them knowing everything about each other but not understanding it. There's a fundamental disconnect between them, because both of their traumas are completely different. They have complete misconceptions about each other. Even in their initial split, they both have completely different perceptions of what's going on and why the other is upset. It's not a story about magic princesses, it's about the cycle of abuse and what makes it so complicated. Does it have flaws? Yeah. But ultimately I really really enjoy it, and when it does something right it does something RIGHT. Get through season one, it starts kids show-y but it gets very good during later s1.
Content warnings: Abuse (obviously), body horror, gaslighting (and I mean actual gaslighting, not what the Internet thinks gaslighting is), suicide, depression, flashing lights and eyestrain during the finale
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Steven Universe
Steven Universe is a sins of the father story. Steven is the son of the leader of the rebel group The Crystal Gems, who's name was Rose Quartz. He navigates the confusion of being half gem and half human, as well as trying to figure out the mess of the rebellion and what his mother left behind. He's constantly in her shadow, for better or for worse.
It's a story about grief. How it impacts relationships, how it taints history, how it impacts family. It has some definite flaws, but ultimately it's about very flawed people who have lost so many people in their life trying to cope with it. Trying to handle what they lost and trying to adjust to life without them. It's about how expectations fuck a kid up and about agency and just a show about complicated relationships in general, at the end of the day. Also, it has some FANTASTIC music.
Content warnings: Grief, Abuse, body horror, very creepy people I don't know how to tag, heavy allegories for homophobia
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Nimona
Nimona is a story about a guy who gets framed for murder. His name is Ballister Boldheart, a commoner who hoped to become a knight. It seemed everyone was waiting to watch him fail, so it was no surprise when he was the immediate target. Heavily injured and away from the man he loves, he's left alone trying to figure out a way to prove his innocence- until a strange kid comes into his life. This kids name is Nimona, and while he is intent on proving his innocence, she gave up on being anything but a villain a long time ago.
It's about deconstructing the model minority myth, trans rage, propaganda, and with a healthy dose of "FUCK the police".
Content warnings: Heavy injury, on screen suicide attempt, flashing lights
feel free to add more shows! just remember to keep the summaries as spoiler free as you can and add content warnings!
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gremlingottoosilly · 8 days
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okay now i need mafia!könig as a dad and him enjoying his son so much that he fills you up with another😋😋
At least you have nannies and servants to help with his son. Little Paul is a menace even at his young age - and it doesn't help that his father seems to have grown feral as soon as he learned about the pregnancy. It's like a light switch was turned on - it's like everything he wished for, in the form of one small human and his mother. If you think your mafia husband was possessive before, never allowing you to leave his side without a few dozen bodyguards, some more hidden than the others, you knew nothing. It was already three or four months spent without going out for anything - and with servants tending to your son, you've grown bored. Pliant. Paul is breastfed mostly on your whim since you want at least something to do before chirping nannies will go flocking to take him to play. You can't even play with him without a couple of servants trying to get him out of your hands just so you could "rest and prepare yourself for his daddy". You hate having nothing to do - and you hate having Konig fawn over you like your body isn't covered in stretch marks and like remaining pregnancy hormones are not ready to choke him with your bare hands. Konig presses his face against your tummy, now empty - and he whispers how much he'd love to fill it up with his seed again. The doctor advised against having back-to-back pregnancies, judging by how big Paul was and how taxing it was on your body - but Konig just kisses you over and over again. Promises to get you the best medical treatment, whispering how it's fine, he can afford to have multiple children. How much he wants to give your son a baby sister to adore or a baby brother to take care of. You can't force Konig out when he is like this - your baby is in the other room, with his favorite nannies, and your husband is proving that with enough fucking per day, you just wouldn't have time for postpartum depression. Konig can't breed you quite right now, but he does everything in his power to make you remember how nice it was to be filled to the brim, and how much he wants to repeat it. The night always ends with you on your back, begging for his cock - and with him finally fucking you, treating your body like it's made of glass. You never thought that Konig would have such a soft spot for children, but he allows his son to crawl all over him when he gets older, and you have to physically remove baby from his arms or else Konig would just allow him to go to every criminal meeting - and you want to save his innocence for as long as possible. Until, at least, he is old enough to ask why mommy is never allowed outside.
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neteyamsilly · 1 year
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i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 5
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summary ;; What could Jake do? How was he supposed to fight when he had no concrete opponent? PART 4 | PART 6 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; jake is so depressing here. i also took liberty with his character and the reasonings for his decisions in atwow, sorry in case if thats not how you see him LMAO happy reading 💞 please excuse my mistakes if you see any! ‼ I DONT TAKE TAG REQUESTS ANYMORE ‼
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“One chance, Jakesuli. You will only have one chance. Use it well. Our Great Mother favors you, that we know. But this favor hasn’t been granted to you. It has been granted to my granddaughter.”
“I won’t fail.” Not again. 
“What does failing mean, I wonder. Would you fail if you take her soul back from her happiest? Or would you fail if you let her have the peace our Great Mother has laid her into?” 
“I will get my daughter back. This isn’t her time. If Eywa has given me this chance, then she thinks the same as me.”
“You will take that honor from her, then?” Mo’at was being cryptic, but Jake saw through the exterior of the neutral Tsahik into an exhausted, mourning grandmother. “She was the daughter of Toruk Makto, and he was her last shadow.”
It came back to Jake in a gut-churning realization, it was his shadow that had fallen over you from the light of the torches on the walls as you’d given your last breath. It was his shadow. “No,” he refused, adamantly. “She will get to achieve greater honors of her own than that. I won’t be the one defining her ending.” The last bead of your songcord having his name, Toruk Makto’s name, was supremely wrong to him. He would not accept this fate for you. 
“Very well, then.” Secretly, she was pleased with him. With his answer. “Get going. As I said. One chance.”  
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Jake would never be able to get used to the magnificence that was Vitraya Ramunong, or, the Tree of Souls. To him, Pandora itself was a marvel already too good to be true that he’d fallen in love with, and abandoned his own race for, there was no getting used to the beauty for a human like him who’d only found it once in neon lights, ever. He could reach the end of his natural lifespan in this body and still there would be much left to discover. That’s why Jake was more vulnerable to one of the beating hearts of Eywa in the shape of a giant, glowing willow tree. 
No Na’vi was immune to the soul-purifying, all-consuming, yet being-dwarfing peace enveloping one’s very spirit, in a cradling hug as if they were nothing but a newborn in their mother’s arms. In here, only one fact mattered: they were childrens of Eywa, all of them dear, all of them seen, all of them safe and sound, including him, once alien to Eywa the way Earth was related to Pandora. Everything spoke to him here in a language he didn’t understand, but could respond to, again, in a language he didn’t understand, his soul doing the communicating. 
Jake was also a child here, Eywa’s chosen child. 
And he had come to her door for the most difficult request of his life, feeling like he was asking his mother for money right after he had crashed their car, unable to look her in the eye and expecting the biggest of scoldings for his shamelessness. 
This was nothing like asking for her assistance against the sky people, back then, he had agency, power, the clans backing him up, Toruk. If Eywa didn’t hear him, he would fight until the last drop of blood in his body was spent anyway, he was ready.
Now, he had nothing. 
Nothing to offer in return, not one concrete reason as to why he should have his daughter back other than being a desperate father with nowhere to return to other than the mercy of the Great Mother. He just wanted his child. Nothing mattered. 
Not how and why Quaritch had spawned right under his nose with an avatar body, not how they could even slither in without detection, not the threat of what the sky people could bring upon their heads with that — nothing, not now. Nothing mattered until he saw this through. 
Jake had found the will to quite literally tear himself from your side like nail from flesh only when you’d stabilized enough. Stabilized, as in, the faintest rise and fall of your ribcage Neteyam had to stare from where he was sitting like a sentinel for a full minute to spot, a tideless, still ocean only moving with whiffs of wind, his own breathing unnoticeable — to match yours, or to silence the sounds in his own body to hear better, Jake didn’t know. 
No sky person was allowed to take over from Mo’at and Kiri. Norm had told Jake none of this made sense, if the bullet had nicked the bowels enough and the dirt leaked into the bloodstream, the possibility of sepsis was eventual, and if it didn’t, you had bled too much anyway, a blood transfusion was necessary, and the internal organs... — Christ, the amount of bad end scenarios Jake had been subjected to was as if they were telling him to open a grave for you anyway. Tsahik had scoffed into their faces. The way of healing was something none of them would see, she had scoffed. Now ally, or not. You can’t fill a cup that’s already full. Jake was in a hopeless need for water into wine kind of miracle, and honestly, he wasn’t complaining. 
Leaving High Camp behind to set off on a journey calling for only him was one of the hardest things he’d done yet, the silhouette of you lying motionless, his family scattered around the tent, shadowed in their own mourning, folded into themselves was burned into his mind, glimpses of their pain visible from eclipses of light occasionally falling on their faces. A sight he never wanted to see again in his life if he could help it. It was a frosted, iron-thorned hand squishing his heart into ground meat. 
Tuk, ever the stingy monopolizer, had brought her favorite toys to scatter around you because she thought they’d comfort you the way they comforted her, had tried snuggling with your unconscious body and was warned by Kiri only to hold your hand instead. She had taken to playing with your fingers, the depressive gloom of years beyond her age crooked on her. Jake couldn’t stand the sight of the little girl telling you bedtime stories he and Neytiri used to, for a moment only, he could pretend you were just going along with your sister’s whims and smiling with your eyes closed as you listened. 
Kiri, buzzing around to change the bandage-leaves that soaked up some sort of sickly black colored puss every couple hours, had explained to him the salve they used on you was getting the infection and the splinters of the bullet they couldn’t get out of your body, which had turned the color of your blood into that — but the thing was, given the dwelling of the woodsprite in your mouth, they couldn’t feed you the porridge-like mix to speed up the process of blood production in the bone marrow, and she was exerting herself looking for some other way. 
Before he’d left the tent for good, she had handed him the bullet— or, the biggest piece of it they’d taken out of your body, it was a mere pursed and shriveled, tiny metal. The exhausted girl had stammered when explaining that whatever they’d hit you with, had broken into shards inside you upon impact, creating severe lacerations and lethal hemorrhage that they’d worked tirelessly to pick out.
Jake had stared hollowly at it for the longest time. This small thing. It was such a small thing that took you from him. 
The sentence that sent you away was also as small, and damning as this bullet. ‘Go.’   
Kiri had seen it sink in his face, closing her five-fingered hand on his palm, on the bullet. “You should get going, dad,” she’d said. “We’re okay here.”
Jake had taken one last look. At Neytiri wiping your body to clean all the congealed blood. At Tuk holding your hand. At Kiri trying to fill in shoes bigger than her feet. At you lying down with trinkets surrounding you like funeral flowers. And forced his body to keep moving when all he wanted to do was stay. 
He’d then heard Lo’ak complaining to his older brother outside the tent, “How can he be so cold?” The heaviness was getting to the boy, agitated and misapprehending. But he was always this way, if something was out of his control, the inability to act to change it manifested as frustration, blind anger. “Why is he so… unresponsive? Emotionless?”
Jake would have let it slide had it been about something else, but his children running their mouths not knowing he was a hair's breadth away from going clinically insane had gotten to him. He was burning alive. 
“You think I don’t care, boy?” He emerged from the tent like some last boss, initially not caring he’d scared the brothers. “You think I don’t feel at all? My own child dying in the same arms I used to hold her as a baby — you think that doesn’t faze me?”
Neteyam, the mediator, or rather, the blame-taker, ran to his little brother’s rescue, the latter too flabbergasted to form any words yet. “Dad, he doesn’t mean—”
“I know exactly what he means.” When the anger subsided, Jake sighed with the weariness of an ancient man. The flames had died before they could climb, he was too exhausted for it. Honesty and trust, as Neytiri had said. 
Having lost everything, having nothing to lose, and having a lot to lose were somehow simultaneously the same thing to Jake in the predicament he’d found himself in. “I know how you see me. You only know me as the person I want to show you.” 
Lo’ak’s go-to answer was presented to Jake on a silver platter. “Sorry, sir.”
It wasn’t what he wanted to hear at all. Jake wasn’t trying to get Lo’ak to bow his head. “Don’t apologize—” He cut himself short, licking his chapped lips, and after rubbing his face, he’d put his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “Lo’ak. Son. I feel this, alright? Of course I do. I’m your father.” He shook him gently, feeling the words weren’t reaching him, who was just staring at something on the ground off to the side. “There’s no greater pain a parent can go through in life than losing his child. You can’t understand what this means right now—what it’s doing to me. You will only know when you become a father yourself.” He gently tapped Lo’ak on the chin so he would raise his head and look at him in the eye already. And when he did, Jake said what he said slowly, hoarsely. “But know this. Know I will lose myself if I lose you, or any of your siblings.” He turned to Neteyam as well, who was watching in full alert mode. “I’m fighting not to lose my sanity as we speak.”
Lo’ak swallowed, unsure and weirded out to hear something like this for the first time in his life. Jake didn’t blame him. He was never emotionally upfront or honest before, not even used to it, more awkward with it than his boys were. But none of that mattered. Not anymore, after what happened to you because of his shortcomings. “You just look so composed—“
“I have to be.” Jake shook his head, eyelids hanging heavy, his whole head was heavy. “I just can’t crumble under it, do you understand? I have to be strong. I can’t lose myself in it. Your sister needs me. You need me. To be strong.” He took his hands off the boy’s shoulders, putting a palm on his cheek and patting a few, fatherly times before backing off altogether. “Never say that I don’t care. Never. I might not show it—and it’s a father’s duty not to show it, so my family will have a stable anchor. Get what I’m saying?” 
Lo’ak looked reassured, lighter. So that’s what Neytiri had meant. “How… how can I help?”
His youngest son’s inclination to get to the root of the problem and pump out solutions was in consanguineous with his inability to stop and wait, uncomfortable in his skin when he couldn’t do anything to improve the situation and was confronted with the intimacy of having to feel, always wanting to act. Lo’ak was like Jake in that way. Awkward when it came to communication. Dishonest with themselves.  
“Stay here.” Jake said, right from his heart. “Stay safe. I don’t wish for anything else in this world.”
Lo’ak’s eyes softened, and as the father, Jake felt the renewal of the bond between them, saw the understanding in his youngest son, saw something else than the guilt and regret over being caught after mischief, for once. “I’m sorry, dad.”
“Don’t apologize.” He shared a meaningful look with him, trying to convey, again, his apology wasn’t what he wanted. Yet, his sons were defaulted to saying sorry half the time they spoke to him nowadays. Jake was understanding the severity of it, too much too late. Lo’ak nodded, ears tipped down slightly.
Then he turned to the eldest. “Neteyam—”
But he opened his mouth before Jake could say anything else. Ready. Always on his feet. “Yes, I will—”
Jake clicked his tongue. “Rest.”
Neteyam was about to say yes to whatever he was told to do, as always, but stopped right in the middle of it, voice catching in his throat, eyes blinking in confusion. “What?”
“Rest.” 
“But—”
“Rest, Neteyam, I won’t tell you again.”
God knows he needed it. Neteyam looked like he’d been having night terrors for days, accumulated anxiety making him jumpy. “Sorry, sir.”
“Stop—“ Jake caught himself before he could raise his voice. “Why are you apologizing?”
Neteyam didn’t talk for a while. But when he did, he was looking up at him underneath his lashes, unable to keep eye contact for more than two seconds. “It’s my fault.”
“Bro,” Lo’ak said, a pitiful objection.
Jake knew where this was going. “What is?” 
“I should have been there.” He pressed his mouth into a thin line before furrowing his brow, closing his eyes. Jake knew what he was seeing, repeated over and over again in his mind. “I should have known right away when I couldn’t catch up to her. I could have prevented it. It’s my responsibility.” One tear slipped by as he hung his head. “My fault.”
There it is.
Jake had told him before. “You’re the older brother, you gotta act like it.” — even though you and him were more like affable twins than older brother and younger sister that he never had to explicitly be a guardian to you like he was to Lo’ak, he had to be thinking this was his biggest failure. Neteyam was just reflecting what he’d been taught, the standards his father was holding him up to. Of course the boy had been overthinking it to the point where he was the catalyst to the event by not predicting your fakeout. 
“No,” Jake rasped, after a beat. “This is on me first, and the sky people who got to her second. And that’s the end of the story.”
Neteyam, up until this point, had to bear half the blame, if not the rest of it, for the consequences of his siblings’ actions. Upon receiving this kind of answer, he startled with an incredulous gasp and full stare at Jake. “But I—”
“It’s not about you, Neteyam,” Jake explained, although the words were harsh, he had done his best to soften the impact. “I did this. Blame me, okay?”
‘How could I?’ was written in neon letters over the boy’s head even if he didn’t say anything. Too good-natured. He idolized Jake a lot more than the man deserved. “Mother was… she was… She is grieving, she doesn’t mean it.”
“You gotta stop making excuses for people, boy. Especially when they’re in the right.” A smile pulled on his lips, but died as it was born. “I pushed and pushed until we reached the edge, thinking there was never an edge at all. I should have known better. I should have been better. This is between me and your sister, and that’s why it is me who has to go to the Tree of Souls.” 
And he’d left, but not before pulling his boys into his chest, cradling the back of their heads against himself, the smell of home repulsing instead of comforting. Prickles on his skin was the comfort he got from being able to hug his children when you were absent. It didn’t feel right. 
He missed you dearly, an aching, gaping hole in his very being that only grew larger as he saw what you left behind half-completed or messy like you’d stood up and gone off for a minute to come back to it later — 
The unmade pallet from the night of your Iknimaya argument that Jake had shed tears on when he’d seen the state of it, having the signs of someone getting up from it like you would be returning to go back to sleep any second.
The unfinished bark plate you had set aside to eat later and fought Lo’ak not to touch it. a squabble Jake had to break before you started wasting food by throwing it at each other. 
The stack of fruits you’d gathered that you never shared except for Neytiri sometimes. 
The half-carved cup you were working on because the regular cups weren’t big enough for your water needs and you didn’t like to refill it about three times until you were satisfied. 
The incomplete anklet you were making out of rainbow beads for Tuk that was confidential to everyone but Jake, who knew from observing you, of course — you were missing a couple colors that you just couldn’t seem to find, nagging his head off to just let you roam around farther and there was no danger as the sky people couldn’t get in the vortex.  
The little animal doodles you scratched at your side of the tent when you couldn’t sleep at nights, waking Jake up in the process every single time to listen until your breathing evened out as sleep retook you in its arms again, because he was bodily programmed to startle awake at one single rustle in his living quarters from his Marine days and fell into old habits after the return of the sky people, he knew you had developed insomnia from being uncomfortable at High Camp, longing for your hammock cocooned in the safety and comfort of the forest.
And the dumb romance novels you had taken from the humans that you, Kiri and Tuk giggled about at girl’s nights reading out loud, Spider invited as an honorary guest at times, just so you could tease Kiri about him and annoy your brothers that they weren’t allowed in, but the human boy was. 
All of them had no owner now. Neither of your family members could look at them, your ghost would appear in precious memories beside your belongings if they looked too much. He didn't need to concentrate for a phantom of you to appear, you were everywhere he looked, and even now, as the gently pulsating lavender humming, a song from Eywa herself, right underneath the veinlike, labyrinthine roots was the cool summer rain on Jake’s sizzling skin, all he could see was your first communion with Eywa in his arms while Neytiri formed the tsaheylu, the clan spread all around them in celebration. 
“You’ve called, and I’ve answered,” he greeted in positivity. “I think this is the most direct you’ve been with me in a long while.”
He didn’t know if it was Eywa or you he was saying this to. He genuinely didn’t know. 
Kneeling, and putting his arms on the mossy, thick root, he looked up to see the woodsprites swaying and floating in the air. He reached for his braid, letting the squirming nerve-endings coil around the white-cored lavender thread closest to him, taking in the presence of Eywa, all around yet nowhere at all, but listening. No sign of you. Was he supposed to talk like this? Just like this? Was he not allowed to see you? 
Jake had to admit he had been harboring the tiniest expectation of meeting you somehow, or hearing your voice through the connection like he did with a Tree of Voices when Mo’at had cryptically informed him of his chance. But this was it? 
If he failed, this would be it. 
“I guess this isn’t all that different,” he said out loud, instead of thinking inwards where the confusion flew. “It’s been like this for a while now, you and I. You talk, I don’t hear you. I talk, you don’t hear me. We throw the same ball at each other only for it to bounce back. Monologuing to a tree is the same thing, except it doesn’t talk back like you do.” 
He looked up and around, there was nothing else to do. The air was the same as it always was in here. Always accommodating to what each Na’vi found comforting. “The last time I came here like this was to ask for Eywa’s help in the last stand against sky people. I told her I would fight either way, I knew that’s why she’d chosen me. All my life, all I’ve done was fight. Even when I wasn’t able to, I was fighting lesser battles with the excuse of not having anything to fight for. It’s all I’ve known. All I’ve ever done. It’s what I was best at.” His brow twitched, and Jake tried to keep his composure, not because he didn’t want anybody to see, no, it was to keep his shit together so he didn’t fuck this up. He had to be honest. His pride was the last thing he needed in his way at the moment. 
“You were born to a different man. To a changed man. To a father who could let go because he thought his family was safe. You got to meet the man I used to be when my reason for fighting came back from my star. I know you don’t like that person — you can’t — couldn’t get used to him. I know.” 
From the discomfort, his fingers dug into the moss first, and found the bark of the root, his fist curling on it next. “But I had to keep fighting.” He softly brought his fist back on the root. “The strong prey on the weak, that’s just how things are. That’s how I had it on my star. And my kids — you, you are weak, and it’s not an insult — it’s not me criticizing, Jesus, you are just children, and there’s a war on your damn heads. That’s what I mean. That’s what I’ve always meant. It’s natural that you are weak, Eywa was kind enough to let you be soft. Not Earth, though, never Earth.” 
Jake had to clench his teeth and bite the anger into the inside of his mouth to not be boiled alive — not to let it reach to your side. He let out a soundless snarl. “You would never be ready for the cruelty of Earth, I would never wish that upon any of you. But it was brought to you. Right at your doorstep. I couldn’t protect you from it by hugs and kisses. You wouldn’t be safe from a gun extended to you by extending a branch in return. No.” 
He reached and caressed the glowing thread, brows furrowed. “I did what I thought was right to prepare you. Every single one of you. I was making you tough. I had to. To protect you. And of course there would be clashing along the way, it’s what happens between parent and child. We fight. We fight like cats and dogs for dominance. You try me to show strength. I stand my ground to let you know you gotta do better.” 
He had fired those sentences with incoherent speed, and when he got to the end of it, Jake got choked up. Stopped for a moment, took a breath. Blinking several times, his tone became vulnerable, he didn’t have anyone in front of him, but he tore away his gaze anyway. “Somewhere along the way, things just… Without me noticing, everything…” He sighed through his nose, his voice nothing but a whisper. “I fought more battles than I fought for my family. I thought I was doing my job as a father when I didn’t even know shit about being a father.” 
A couple seconds floated by, and his gaze was stolen by a lone woodsprite descending down until it staggered on the fist he had against the root. The shine of it reflected from the mistiness of his eyes. His lower lip slightly trembled at the thought of it being you. This little woodsprite. You? 
“The thing is, I’m lost, sweetheart,” he admitted quietly, small, shaky, not taking his eyes off the woodsprite. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I sit here, I look back, and think why I keep fighting. We could have migrated. Looked for a new Hometree. Another forest. Left the humans alone. Or made peace. A treaty. Something. None of your lives had to be sullied by war. Yet I chose this. I chose to fight, as I ‘ve always done, because now I had something to fight for. And the fighting wasn’t limited to them, I fought Neteyam, I fought Lo’ak, I fought you, my own kids, and I didn’t even know.” 
He reached for it with his other hand, tentatively, scared that it would fly away with the slightest contact. But he was able to touch the top of the woodsprite ever so slightly, the little zap making all the hair on his body stand up. Jake swallowed thickly, his whole head on fire. “I don’t know what to do. I just miss you. I miss you so much, sweet girl. I wish you would scream at me. Say you hate me for all I care. Anything. Hate me until the day you die, but do it with all of your family surrounding you in old age, in peace. I would be content knowing you are under the same sky as me. But I’m forgetting your voice already, and I—” He held back a violent sob, hissed to not let it out, and groaned, getting angry at himself for the emotions. He shut his eyes tightly, willing away the tears. “I wish I could say these to your face. I wish I could see you one last time, smiling at me.”
Having everything to lose. Having lost everything. Having nothing to lose. Three different meanings had coiled around each other like snakes to become one singular outcome in linear relation of cause-and-effect through you. It wasn’t a cycle.
Having something to fight for. Having nothing left to fight for. Having nothing to fight for. You were everything. Everything. What could Jake do? How was he supposed to fight when he had no concrete opponent? 
“I see you.”
The voice — your voice, albeit much, much younger, almost made him jump. When his eyes shot open, Jake was in a different location. He knew this place. The creek away from the village he and his family often frequented. 
The twilight penumbra of the eclipse dimmed the shadows embracing the forest, but the ethereally glowing lights of all colors illuminated and got reflected from the water as if it was a mirror. Above and all around him were lazily dancing fireflies — or, rather, bioluminescent bugs he didn’t know the names of, tiny stars floating in the air like glitter. It was magical.
Jake realized with aching melancholy that this was the first time he’d taken you out on an eclipse to show you the beauty of the forest on a special father-daughter date. The exact memory.  
The breath that left him was shaky as he felt the presence sitting right beside him, in the corner of his vision, he saw the ripples on the shining water made by swinging legs. 
Jake froze for a second. Unmoving. Not looking at all — because if this was a dream, or a hallucination, he wouldn’t be able to bear it. His breathing got louder, more labored, the log underneath his hands was so realistically textured and damp. If he looked. If he looked, you would disappear. That’s how he felt. 
He was supposed to talk. But now, his ribcage was holding the words hostage, burning with the strain of the pile-up. 
“But I’m sad you don’t see me,” you said, and he was shaken by hearing your voice yet again, remembering the moment he found himself here, how he’d heard — ‘I see you’. “You don’t even want to look at me.”
So much hurt and vulnerability in that sentence that it left him breathless. 
It all happened in a matter of seconds. Him launched into his own turmoil racking his brain about how Quaritch was back as an avatar, ignoring to look at you to protect his composure and just trying to think, think — think, of a plan, of a how, of what to do. You calling after him once Neytiri, you and he arrived at High Camp after dodging Quaritch’s men. Him purposefully walking away because he needed to cool off and not to explode on you right there and there.  
That whole time, Jake hadn’t looked at you. If he did, he would have seen you needed help.
He shattered, all of his walls crumbling down, stripped down to bare despair. 
“Oh sweetheart.” Before he knew it, he had wrapped his arms around you in a crushing hug, basically snatching you off from where you were sitting and on his lap, and your warmth, your pulse, your tangible existence wrenched a shiver out of him — and he buried his face to the little crook of your neck, taking your scent in, hiding his trembling face and the quiver of his arms by holding you tight. You were here. As your younger self, no older than eight, but he had you. Not bloody and battered in his arms, but alive, so alive. “Oh sweet girl, my sweet girl… I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He kissed the side of your head, felt the real tickle of your hair against his face, blessed with the soothe of his child’s smell. “I see you. Of course I see you. I’ve always seen you.” 
The snowflake-frail snivel followed by your sobbing sniffle broke his heart into pieces. “You’re a liar.” He shook his head, hugging you tighter. “You’re mean to me. You’re so mean to me.”
“I’m sorry.” That was all he could say. All he could do with his thrashing soul smoldering at the wetness of your tears on his shoulder. “I am mean. I’m sorry… You’re right, I’m sorry.” 
“It hurt so much.” You wailed. “It hurt a lot.” 
Jake began to caress your head with an awkward, clumsy, panicked hand, disturbed as to if you meant the moment of your death — at him pressing on the wound with all he had to stop the bleeding, or he and your strained relationship in general. “I know, sweetheart,” he said anyway, a stone clogging his throat. He didn’t try to explain, or tell you why, didn’t argue that it wasn’t what he meant to do. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He had you in his arms. “I know. I know.” 
You wouldn’t get to be younger than this. And maybe, he would never get to see you be older, either. The thought crumpled his face like some piece of paper. Jake just wanted to hold you. And when you wrapped your little arms around him too, freely crying in his arms, a couple tears escaped his eyes as well, he didn’t know what kind of face he was making, perhaps it was better that you didn’t see him crumble. 
In the middle of it somewhere, he realized that you were younger because it was your inner child that needed this, she was more honest — more open with Jake. It caused him to sway with you back and forth, ribcage hurting with each breath. And you let it all out, clinging to him. 
“I love you, always,” he whispered, watching the bioluminescent bugs, when you were calmer and had fallen silent on his chest, not wanting to let him go and just listening to his heartbeat. “Even if I don’t show it — especially when I don’t show it. You are loved, my sweet girl, more than you know. More than you’ll ever know. More than I can show.” He looked down at the top of your head, agonized. “But I want to try. I want to show you more, moving forward.”
Knowing what he was insinuating, “But it’s nice here,” you said, voice thick and coarse from crying. You still didn’t pull back to look at him. Both of you, from the start of this, never looked at one another. Not once. Embarrassed and shameful to be honest, Jake thought. That pride you two shared. “You’re not mean to me here.”
But he needed to see you. You needed to be seen. So, as gently as he could, he unwrapped your arms around him, and took your baby cheeks in his hands, and looked you in the eyes. Another tear slipped from him. “You been listenin’ to me, right sweetheart? From the start?” You nodded adorably. You wouldn’t have said oel ngati kameie and accepted to let him see you if you hadn’t felt his true intentions and heart through him pouring it all out at the Tree of Souls. “I’m hiding a lot of things. But I want to be open with you. You wanna know the secret why I’m… mean?” You nodded again, more reluctant this time. “It’s because I’m scared.”
You gasped, genuinely lost and shocked, and he tried not to smile at the purity, the innocence. “You? You’re scared?”
“All the damn time,” he whispered, landing a kiss on your temple, his opposite thumb tracing a loving line on your other temple. “Every day. Every night.”
“But you’re Toruk Makto. You’re never scared.”
“I’m also a dad,” he said sorrowfully, as if he was giving out a secret. “And it’s precisely why I’m scared. I’m scared for you. For your siblings. Of losing you. It turns into anger. Anger turns into irreparable damage. Things I can’t take back.”
In the blink of an eye, you were back to your real age. For some reason he couldn’t quite grasp, you had shed the exterior of your childhood. But he didn’t mind, didn’t let you off his lap. 
“Don’t be scared, I’m here,” you said, putting your own small palm on his cheek, upset by the fact that he was feeling like that in the first place rather than whatever explanation he had. Your response was also childish, but he leaned into your touch anyway, comforted regardless, even if you were already gone — for this moment, he could ignore that no, you weren’t here at all. “If you told us, we would have been more careful not to make you sad.” 
Ah, he was being lectured on communication by his kid. It had a certain flavor of humbleness to it. Jake adored it nonetheless. “I know,” he said, “I’m sorry. I won’t be mean anymore.”
“That’s a lie.”
Jake couldn’t stop the laugh, though it was tottering. “Yeah, it is. But I promise you that I’ll never hurt you again.”
“That’s a lie too. Wasn’t it you who said not to make promises you can’t keep?”
“Alright, smartypants, let me rephrase it then,” the little glimpses of your brash self made him happy. “I will never intentionally hurt you, and if I end up doing so, unknowingly, I will always make it up to you. No exceptions.” 
You were acting uninterested, but stole intrigued glances at him. “How are you gonna make it up to me?”
“I’ll let you choose, how does that sound?” Jake tapped your nose. “In return, if I don’t know and haven’t taken the first step, you’ll have to tell me outright what I did.”
You deadpanned. “But I always do.”
“No, you don’t.” He raised one of his eyebrows. “You become passive-aggressive when you’re annoyed and pick fights with me.”
“That’s not—”
“Sweetheart.” 
“Okay, fine.” You huffed. The normalcy had made him forget just what he was doing here. “But you get angry.”
“What I get angry at is—” He cut himself off with a tongue click. “Not important. I do get angry. But at sincere honesty, us just talking it out, I could never get angry at that. Is the difference clear?”
“I think it is.” You were apprehensive about something, your fingers on his neck flexing as if you wanted to pull them back and break the hug. “But you have to promise.”
“I promise.” And then, Jake remembered, a new fire hardening his face, not in anger, but determination. “And speaking of which. I would never. Ever. Not in a million years would get angry or blame you for getting hurt to that degree — for others, humans, avatars, whoever and whatever the hell they are, hurting you, I could never get mad at you for it. Do you understand me? Your safety is the most important to me. I could never hate you for it.” His voice dropped down to a softer, gentler tone just above a whisper. “There is nothing in this world that’ll make me hate you. Nothing. I will love you through the most heinous crimes and in inexcusable deeds, you will find forgiveness in me even if there’s nobody left, that’s a father’s heart. Forever and always, I am with you.” He touched his forehead, and then yours. “I see you.”
You avoided eye contact. 
Ah, yes, the famous emotional awkwardness. He was sort of aware his feelings had reached you, you just didn’t know what to say. Jake hadn’t been like this with you for the longest time. So, he decided to make you more comfortable. “Yes I will get mad at you for breaking curfew, and yes, we might stop talking for a while and beef about the dumbest things if the fight is too intense — but always, always come to me when something is wrong. I will drop everything without hesitation.” He leaned in a bit to catch your wayward stare. “Got it?”
You murmured. “Okay.”
“Are we clear?”
You murmured once more. “Yeah.”
“Repeat it, then.”
There was something between cringing and unwillingness on your face, but at his pointed look, you sighed, giving in. “Always come to you if something’s wrong even if we’re fighting.”
“That’s right,” he affirmed, encouraging to let you know this wasn’t embarrassing. “What else?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Dad will always love you.” He nudged you, noting the flick of your ears in happiness when he’d said it. “Come on, say it.”
You didn’t look at him when you said it, but your voice was light. “Dad will always love me…”
“Dad will never hate you.”
Sheepishness took over, making Jake smile. “Dad will never hate me.”
“And. Come talk to me about it if I’ve ever hurt you without noticing so I can make it up to you.”
“Always go to you if I’m hurt and you’re unaware of it.”
“That’s right,” in this form as well, he gave your temple another kiss, heart soaring at your beautiful smile he had been dying to see. “Good girl.”
“You’re giving me a lot of power.” 
“Nothing my mighty hunter can’t handle.” 
The smile on your face died down. It came to Jake right away what had gone wrong. “Sweetheart—” “I didn’t mean that. You know—” But you didn’t know. Jake had to stop trying to make it easier on himself. “I’m proud of you. I’m so proud of you. About everything. About the ikran, I’m so goddamn proud. I said it, and I can’t take that back, I was angry and I was trying reverse psychology — you know what, it doesn’t matter. But you are my mighty hunter. Will always be.”
You got confident a bit, but were still testing the waters. “Well I proved I am.”
“Yes, you did,” he rejoiced, no rejection or doubt whatsoever. “Message received, Lima Charlie.”
You giggled freely, joyfully at the recognition, and Jake ached again remembering how much he’d missed that carefree, precious thing, he swore pixie dust was in it. You slipped from his lap to sit crossed-legged beside him, and he instantly missed being able to hold you close. “Wish you were there to see me.”
“Me too, sweet girl.” Your Iknimaya was a disaster. A long-passed, sacred tradition broken wasn’t as important to him as it was to Neytiri — but he knew she longed to see you complete it, by your side, as eagerly as he did. And you had been alone in your pride, when he knew from a very young age, you had been the most excited for it. Everything had been ruined and there was nothing he could do to undo it. “Will you tell me about it?”
The phantom of pensiveness on his face hadn’t quite registered with you yet, getting excited to tell him all about it like nothing had happened the moment you knew Jake wanted to know. As if you weren’t dead. As if nothing was wrong. “Well first of all, I broke Neteyam’s record.”
A mournful smile tugged on his lips. “Did you now?”
“Hell yeah!” You started gesturing with your arms. “It took, like, two minutes? One minute? Too easy.”
“You know easy means the ikran didn’t give you much of a fight, right?”
“Or, or.” One finger was raised up at him to raise another option. “I was too skilled.” 
“The ikran might have been meh about you.” Jake teased. “You sure it chose you? Or did you just chase it down and it was stuck with you?”
“That’s so wrong!” He threw his head back to laugh at your outburst. “He was watching me get there the whole time! Like, from the start. His eye was on me, I just know it. You’re just jealous you didn’t get Bob like I got Jack. I was badass.”
That made him pause. “Jack?”
“Yeah, his name’s Jack.”
He couldn’t imagine Neytiri’s reaction to the blandest name imaginable, oh god. “Why?”
“Named him after you.” You tipped your head at him, raising your brows. “It’s healing, you know. He listens to me without questioning. He’s also very sweet. Unlike a certain someone.” 
“Oh you little shit—” 
“I didn’t say anything.” Raising your hands in defense first, you crossed your arms on your chest next. “Certain someone can mean anyone. It can mean Lo’jack—”
“Lo’jack, really? Really?” Jake half-snorted, half-scoffed. “This a new one after Lovak?”
“Jackiri—”
“Jackiri is pretty sweet, c’mon now,” he gave a blank stare. “Hope you’re not gonna say Jackeyam.”
“Jacktirey?” You asked, undecided. “She’s an anklebiter.”
“Oh, for sure.” 
“Could be Jack the Ripper, Bojack Horseman, Jack-in-a-box. Jack-o-lantern.”
“All people, of course.”
“Yeah, all people.” You snapped your fingers in mock-remembrance. “Hit the road Jack.” 
“Oh wow, even him?” Jake lowered his voice, leaning towards you, mocking astonishment. “Legendary figure, that guy.”
“Jack of All Trades.”
“Well, that ikran really seems to be one to me.”
“I know, right?” You stopped, and he saw that thought process, and before he could open his mouth, you blurted it out. “Unlike a certain someone I know.”
“You punk.” Jake pushed you lightly by your shoulder. “You’re pushin’ it.”
You smiled with all your teeth at him, with hands on your calves, leaning down to act cute, and Jake could pretend this was normal. That he’d fixed everything. And all was right in the world now that you were laughing with him — he’d made you smile. . 
But suddenly you looked scared, looking at something over his shoulder, shrunken pupils focusing on him and whatever it was rapidly. It kicked him awake from his delusion. He tensed, tail jumping upwards, straight as a rod. “What is it, sweetheart? What’s wrong?”
Your breath hitched, and the next thing he knew, you had pushed him away, and he was falling towards the water. The last thing he saw was only a blur of you — the bioluminescent bugs became shooting stars with a thread of glow left behind them, the whole world tilted, but he didn’t hit the water, instead, he rolled down the small slope he had to climb to reach the tree. 
Disoriented, he saw the root was almost split in half — bullet marks, a cloud of splinters and debris was flying around where he used to be sitting. 
A lone avatar just ahead. Having made it all the way to the Tree of Souls. He didn’t know where this man had come from. 
Heart picking up and roaring in his ears, all Jake could think about was, One chance. 
He hadn’t even spoken to you properly yet, hadn’t said all the things he wanted to, hadn't even gotten your word, and this man — this son of a bitch — humans had taken you once again. 
Once again. 
You will only have one chance. 
“Lucky asshole,” the man looked at him behind the barrel of the long assault rifle. “Gonna make you pay for what you pulled yesterday.”
Your ethereal smile going up in smokes at the back of his head, Jake saw red.  
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moonlightsolo · 1 year
Text
i see you.
summary: being the product of a secret relationship between a human scientist and a na’vi comes with its perks. one of them being neteyam sully.
pairing: neteyam x fem!na’vi/human reader
warnings: heavvyyyyyyy smooching, angry jake, mention of parent dying/leaving, also things get a lil spicy, one use of y/n.
note: tell a friend to tell a friend she’s baaaaaack !!!!! i haven’t written something in so long so my grammar is kinda shit, so if you see something that doesn’t make sense ignore it! anyway- reader & neteyam are aged up to twenty years old. also reader is 6ft since she’s na’vi/human, but she’s still small compared to him since he’s like 8’2. 
part two | part three | part four | part five
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no one knew how it happened- how you happened. how a human scientist and na’vi mated; it should have been impossible, but somehow they made it possible. 
your mother travelled from earth to pandora to study the native species of the omaticaya clan. during her studies, one particular na’vi caught her eye, and sooner than later they developed a secret relationship and fell deeply in love. 
they were inseparable- he taught her the ways of the forest and showed her how the na’vi live day to day. while your mother brought him along to collect samples of the environment around her, and he kept her safe as they explored.
the battle between the sky people and the na’vi, unfortunately ended with your father dying at the hands of your mothers colleagues. the omaticaya finally won, but when the rest of the human soldiers were sent back to earth, your mother was stuck. 
she was unable to travel in cryosleep while carrying you, so she was forced to stay on pandora and live out the rest of her pregnancy on the foreign planet. 
the only person who knew the identity of your father, was your mother and grace. everyone else assumed some soldier knocked up your mom, but boy, were they wrong. 
when you were born, your eye shape and color of your skin resembled your mothers, but the color of your irises were a deep amber, almost glowing yellow. darkened skin-colored stripes decorate your body head to toe, and white freckles adorn your facial features. 
the secret was out- you’re half na’vi, and half human. 
once the clan found out the scientists child is part na’vi, they took you under their wing to teach you their ways. your mother became extremely jealous, knowing that she could never be accepted by them like you have.
at the mere age of four, your mother left the base to travel back to earth without you. leaving you under the care of norm, max, jake and the rest of the clan.
thankfully being part na’vi and human, you’re able to breathe both types of air. mo’at became your motherly figure once your mom disappeared, quickly helping you adapt to their lifestyle in the forest.
over the years, you started to realize that you were different from the other na’vi children. you’re shorter in height, aren’t as fast, and you didn’t have their azure-colored skin. but somehow, you still felt as if you were a part of them. 
you became close to neytiri and jake’s kids, mostly kiri. you grew up with her and neteyam, but as you blossomed into a woman you wouldn’t dare to look him in the eyes. 
fearing that he’d realize your true feelings for him if he stared into them too long. 
throughout your teen years, you casually dated a few na’vi boys, but none of them were neteyam sully. nobody could compare, you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. 
even now as a young adult, those old feelings can’t be choked down anymore. the same feelings you had about the eldest sully boy when you were younger. 
“stop drooling.” kiri teases you under her breath as her hands work to weave a basket. 
you’re knocked out of your trance, head whipping to face her. “no! i am not drooling.” you scoff and shake your head as you continue tucking leaves into the correct shape. you can feel your cheeks burning hot from her catching you staring at her older brother. 
you glance up from your working hands, admiring how neteyam effortlessly spears a fish in the water that he’s standing ankle-deep in. he lets out a triumphant laugh as lo’ak hollers proudly at him from the grass. 
“yeah, bro! get that fiiiiiish!” the younger boy whoops happily with his hands cupped around his mouth to amplify the sound.
the older brother turns his head to see who else could have noticed the catch, barely making eye contact with you before your eyes drop back down to your hands. 
swiftly, you busy yourself with tucking the leaves into each other. your pointed ears twitch slightly when you notice the sound of rustling water growing closer. 
kiri nudges your arm with her shoulder which confirms your suspicions.
he’s walking up to you. why is he walking up to you? you didn’t say anything to him. you didn’t even get a good look at him. there’s no reason for him to come over here.
from your peripheral vision, you can see his feet stop right in front of you in the glittering water. “hey guys.” he speaks softly, almost out of breath.
“hey, neteyam!” kiri quips at him, eyeing you from the corner of her eye with an evil grin.
the sound of his panting voice makes your heart  skip a beat and your abdomen constrict your breathing. you push the basket away from your nervous hands to rest them on your knees. your eyes carefully drag up the lanky expanse of his body, meeting his eyes with your own.
“oh hey, neteyam. how’s… um- the fishing going?” you hum nervously, chewing on your bottom lip out of a nervous habit. 
you can’t help but notice his hands are resting on his slender hips with his infamous bright smile on his face. 
“it was good. caught a few big ones…” he huffs out another strained breath. the sound makes you want to fall over, “what are you guys doing?” his eyes dart over to the trees for a split second before squatting down in front of you and kiri. 
his big round eyes look over your unfinished baskets, reaching out to touch yours gently. 
“hey! don’t touch. you’ll ruin it.” kiri swats at his grabby hands, making him raise his arms in surrender. “okay, okay!” he laughs. 
the sound of rustling leaves distracts you from the boy in front of you, making you and kiri turn to look behind your backs. before you could even make it halfway, his hands wrap around your wrists to yank you forward. 
“shit!!” you yelp before you face-plant into the chilly water, gurgling under the surface before lifting your head up, taking a sharp breath.
muffled laughter fills your ears as you sit up in the pond, pushing your soaked hair out of your face and off of your ears so you could hear. 
neteyam is sitting in the pond directly in front of you, hand laying across his abdomen as he belly laughs along with lo’ak. 
kiri is already climbing out of the water, grumbling under her breath and wringing out her hair. “screw you guys.” she calls back, flipping her middle finger before disappearing into the thick forest towards home. 
you look back at neteyam and lo’ak who are slightly calming down between their fits of laughter. “you… should… see… your… face… right… now!” neteyam cackles, throwing his head back in the air. 
“best idea, bro.” lo’ak reaches over to high five his brothers shoulder and to use him to pull himself out of the water. he grabs neteyam’s hand to help him up next, both of them still giggling.
“this was your idea?” you stare up at neteyam with squinted eyes and a scowl on your face. 
the boy audibly gulps when he notices your changed demeanor, his hand going to scratch the back of his neck. “uuhh, yeah… maybe?” he clears his throat, darting his eyes away from you. 
for a moment, you keep the angry facade before your arm winds back and you send your hand through the water to splash the older boy. 
“woah!” neteyam blocks the water with one of his hands, a surprised smile instantly forming on his perfect lips.
he swoops down towards the water, sending a wave directly into your face. “hey!” your eyebrows furrow, quickly getting onto your knees to send another burst of water towards him. 
lo’ak watches the scene unfolding in front of him, noticing that the rest of the fish swam away from the commotion. “guess we’re done fishing today.” he sighs in defeat and climbs out of the pond without either of you noticing. he follows kiri’s footsteps into the forest with the basket of fish over his shoulder.
you and neteyam continue battling it out, which ends in both of you completely soaked head to toe. “truce! truce!” you yell out in exasperation, falling back into the water. 
“my stomach hurts from laughing. i can’t anymore.” you continue to giggle as neteyam helps you up from your position in the water. he slowly trails behind you as you trudge back towards land, his tall stature towers over you from behind. he reaches out to grip your hips to lift you onto the plush grass. 
the feeling of his hands resting on your body makes your blood run hot, cheeks flaring with heat. 
“we’re drenched. what are we going to tell everyone?” he breathes out heavily with a soft chuckle. 
“we slipped and fell into the water?” you suggest and look up at him.
“we just happened to both slip and fall into the water together?” his eyebrows raise, and his cheeks puff out air in attempt to not laugh.
unfortunately, neteyam decides to look down at you which makes both of you burst into laughter again, “that idea is so stupid.” he choked out, pressing his fist to his mouth to stifle his little laughs. 
“let’s go back. we can figure it out on the way.” you sputter out, hunching over slightly as you walk forward in attempt to stop your giggles.
“hey, wait!” neteyam’s voice is suddenly serious, and you can’t feel his height looming behind you anymore.
you turn around at the sound of his voice, seeing he’s still in the same spot he was standing in. “i don’t want to go back yet.” he admits, his big round eyes darting down to his feet. 
you can feel your heartbeat grow faster, pattering against your chest like a jackhammer. “why not? you okay?” you take a hesitant step forward to stand underneath him, looking up in attempt to read his facial features.
by now, the sun is starting to set. the foliage around you both is slowly changing over, the white freckles in each others skin sparkling under the moonlight. 
his yellow eyes shyly look into yours, a timid smile twitching up onto the corner of his lips. 
“m’fine, i promise. i just want to stay here for a little longer. i don’t want to go back just yet.” he mumbles softly, a puff of his breath fans over your face from your close proximity. 
you can’t help but feel giddy from his words, unable to stop yourself from reaching your hand out to rest on his waist. your thumb absentmindedly rubs circles against his soft skin, “do you mind if i stay with you?” 
“do i mind?” he scoffs with a roll of his eyes, throwing his head back with an over-exaggerated sigh. 
embarrassment floods your body, making your ears ring from the blood rushing through your head. out of fear he’s angry with you, your hand pulls away from him, “oh i’m sorry. i’ll go then.” you start to turn the opposite way but he grabs your hips to keep you in place. 
“are you serious? you really don’t get it do you?” he almost laughs out of amusement, but you can’t help but feel even more confused. 
“i want you to stay here with me. i want you.” one of his hands come up from his side, bending down slightly to carefully tuck your hair behind one of your ears. 
your face stays emotionless as your eyes dart from his eyes to lips and back. “say something. anything?” he begs and shakes his head at you with an amused smile. 
“‘teyam…” you breathe out, a big smile beaming across your face, hands reaching up to cup his cheeks; something you could’ve only dreamed of doing. “i can’t tell if you’re being serious.” you whisper softly in the small amount of space between your faces.
“i’m gonna kiss you now to show you how serious i am.” he looks directly into your eyes before they flutter shut and he leans forward. 
the feeling of his lips on yours makes your knees go weak. neteyam sully is really kissing you right now. your arms wrap around his waist tightly to hold yourself up, which he quickly notices. 
his large hands drag down your sides and over your butt to grip the back of your thighs to hoist you up to his height. your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, ankles locking against his lower back. 
the new position allows him to deepen the kiss even more by gently wiggling his tongue against yours. he stumbles forward to a nearby tree, pressing your back against the trunk of it. 
it’s not like he’s having trouble carrying you, you’re equivalent to a feather for him. he just wants you closer. 
one of his braids falls in your face, swinging and tapping your cheek whenever your lips would connect.
“your hair…” you giggle against his lips, bringing your hand up to his face to tuck it back behind his ear. 
“sorry, they have a mind of their own, ya know.” his husky voice mumbles deeply into your ear, making goosebumps rise on your skin. 
your eyes flutter open to be met with the glowing forest, neon colors lighting up the vegetation around you both. you’ve been on this planet for twenty years and it still surprises you every day. 
neteyam pulls back to look you in the eyes, letting you admire his face for a moment. his blue skin seems brighter under the bioluminescent foliage. especially with the gleaming freckles that paint his skin. 
“ma neteyam, you’re so pretty.” your hand cups his soft cheek which he nuzzles into your palm almost instantaneously.
“no, you’re the pretty one, my girl.” he leans forward to peck your lips once more. the little nickname makes your stomach do somersaults in your belly. his tail flicks up happily against your ankle, tickling your lower leg.
neteyam takes the time to gently kiss down your neck and over your collarbone, “i want you to be mine.” he almost whimpers. his nose nuzzles against your pulse point as his lips continue litter your neck with kisses. 
“will your parents approve?” your voice slightly quivers, “you’re next in line to become eytukan. i’m not a full-blood. i don’t think-.” your rambling is paused by his lips pressing against the tip of your nose. 
“i don’t care what they think. plus, you know my dad likes you.” he gives you a reassuring smile, bringing one of his hands up to cup your cheek. you can’t help but take note that his palm and fingers cover the entire side of your head. 
“yeah, but your mom…” you trail off, not wanting to seem rude by talking about his mother, but you know that she has a problem with humans. you’ve seen the way she looks at spider. 
“look, i’m half-blood too. i don’t think my mom is going to care, plus you’ve been around our family for years. she likes you, i promise.” 
“i’m not one of you. i’m different, neteyam.” you let out shakily, “i’m small and not as fast, i can’t keep up with you.” your eyes dart to the side as you chew on the skin of your lip. 
“look, i know she can be tough, but i promise you, i don’t care what she thinks. since i was a teenager, i realized that i wanted you. i wasn’t brave enough to tell you that until now, but i don’t give a shit about our differences.” his hand grips your jaw with his hand, turning your face towards him so he can look into your watery eyes. 
“i see you, y/n.” his doe-like eyes flicker over your face, trying to read your expression. his eyes are full of adoration and love for the girl in his arms. 
your breath gets caught in your throat, “and i see you.” both of your hands slide up from his chest to rest on either side of his face, pulling him in for another kiss. 
on the way up, you accidentally brush against the voice comm device on his necklace. not knowing it would activate and relay sound through his father’s, mothers, and lo’ak’s ear piece. 
you both gasp into each others mouth when he ruts his hips against your center, the pressure pins your hips to the tree behind you. 
“what is that sound? who has their comm on?”you hear a low muffled voice coming from somewhere. 
neteyam instantly pulls away from the heated kiss, eyes wide with terror and embarrassment. your lips parting lets off a loud suction noise when he pulls away, now making it obvious what the sounds were coming from.
neteyam holds you up with one arm while he uses the other to click on a button on his necklace to turn it off, “it’s my dad.” 
“it’s just neteyam sucking face.” you hear lo’aks voice come through clearly in his ear piece. 
the boys head falls forward to rest on your chest, letting out the loudest over-exaggerated groan of annoyance. the puff of his hot breath against your damp skin makes a shiver shoot down your spine.
you can’t help but giggle and gently pet the top of his head in attempt to console him, “i’m never going to live this down.” he speaks against your skin, grumbling obscenities under his breath. 
“neteyam! where are you, boy?” jake shouts into his ear. 
he taps your thigh to signal you to release your grip from around his waist. he gently lowers you back down to the ground before answering him, “i’m here, dad. i’m here.” 
you can’t help but lean your head on his elbow since that’s the only place you can reach. you grab one of his hands, bringing it to your face to examine it. 
you thread your fingers through his much larger ones, squeezing his hand with your own. you almost laugh at how his hand engulfs yours. 
“yeah, mmmhmm. yeah, okay. i hear you. lo’ak shut up. i got it. we’ll be there soon.” neteyam responds to whoever is talking in his ear. 
“is everything okay?” you mumble quietly, peering up at him through your eyelashes. 
“they want us to come back, but i think everything is okay.” he smiles down at you, pulling you into his side while still holding your hand. 
neteyam leads you through the thick brush of the forest to his ikran. the banshee chirps at the sight of it’s owner, fluttering it’s wings in excitement. “hey, buddy.” neteyam hums and rubs it’s head. 
he reaches around his back for his braid, bringing it forward to make bond with the animal. neteyam effortlessly mounts onto the bird, reaching a hand out for you to take.
you step forward to slide your hand into his so he could help you on and get situated. “hold on tight.” he peers down at you from behind his shoulder with a smirk before the ikran nosedives off of the tree branch. 
“oooohhhhh my god!” you screech as your arms desperately flail around his waist, holding onto him as tightly as you can. 
he can’t help but laugh at your scream once he levels out, now coasting through the sky through the floating mountains. one of his hands reaches back to grip your thigh to pull you even closer to him. 
you hesitantly open your eyes, looking down into the glowing scenery beneath you. “beautiful, right?” his voice raises over the loud whooshing of the wind. 
“i love it.” you squeeze his torso tight, snuggling your temple into the crook of his back as you coast through the air. 
the ikran dips down slightly, making you gasp and tighten around his body. neteyam chuckles, his hand rests on your leg to slowly rub gentle circles into your skin to calm you. 
“hold on, we’re gonna descend.” he leans forward with the ikran, plunging downwards toward the ground once again. you squeal loudly, wriggling behind him in attempt to get closer to him. 
neteyam chuckles, shaking his head as he weaves and bobs between trees to make it back home. the ikran vertically swoops up into the large crevasse in the cave floor, landing on the rocky floor. 
neteyam hops easily off the ikran, disconnecting tsaheylu before his hands grip your waist to lift your body up to place you on the ground next to him.
“what were you guys thinking staying out past curfew?” jake storms up to you both, obviously angry. 
“i know, but i can handle myself. i know how to fight.” neteyam grumbles back, making jake even angrier with his son. if steam could shoot out of his ears at this moment, it would. 
“i know that you know how to fight, son. but the rda, they could be roaming anywhere. it’s dangerous, especially putting her in that situation.” he looks down at you, then turns his attention back to his son.
before jake could lecture him even more, you decide to intervene, “i’m sorry, sir. it’s all my fault we stayed out. i persuaded him to stay… to uh- fly around,” you glance up at neteyam through the corner of your eye, “i take full responsibility.” you nod at jake, gulping down your nervousness. 
jake sighs as he rubs his temples with one of his hands, “so then what’s the reason why both of you are soaked?” he points out, making you instantly freeze from not knowing what to say. 
neteyam’s hand comes up to rest on your shoulder, “to be honest, we were wrestling in the water.” 
your eyes blow wide from his words, turning to him to stare daggers into the side of his face. 
“wrestling… in the water?” jake almost laughs, “look i didn’t need to know that much. you couldn’t come up with a better excuse than that?” 
“oh shit.” neteyam whispers under his breath, “no, dad, it’s not like that at all. i meant… we were just splashing each other after fishing. it wasn’t anything like that.” 
“look, you two just be safe and keep it on the down-low. and next time, please take off your comm, ‘kay?” jake lowers his voice before shaking his head in disbelief and turning on his heel to head back. 
“so he thinks we had sex then, huh?” you breathe out defeat, looking up at neteyam. the boy lets out a huff of air as he watches his father walk away, “yeah i guess so.” his voice has a slight tinge of humor to it. 
the hand resting on your shoulder pulls you into his side with a little chuckle. he starts walking with you toward the pod where the scientists sleep. 
he follows you up the steps to the door, pausing a few steps down before you could open it. his face now parallel to yours since you’re higher on the stairs. 
you smile down at him, reaching out to gently pinch his chin to pull his face forward. you press your lips against his softly, as if he was a delicate flower petal. “i had fun tonight.” you mumble with a smile against his lips before pulling back. 
neteyam presses forward to chase your lips with his, trying to breathe in as much of you as he could. “don’t wanna let you go yet… wanna kiss you more.” he desperately pulls you forward to kiss you again, sucking in a sharp breath. 
your arms lazily drape over his shoulders to kiss him slowly, and tantalizingly. he sucks your bottom lip between his teeth, gently nibbling the skin before making his way down to nuzzle into the crook of your neck. 
“gotta go to bed before my mother has me by my throat.” his words make you laugh as you twirl one of his braids between your fingers. 
“tomorrow i wanna take you somewhere. will you let me?” he pulls back with a smile, thumb rubbing the skin of your outer thigh. 
“of course, i would love to. but where though?” you question with your fingers still busy messing with his hair. 
“it’s a surprise.” he hums playfully making your eyebrows furrow from curiosity of where it could be. 
“i love surprises.” you grin, leaning forward to peck his lips once more before attempting to completely pull away. neteyam groans from the warmth of your body leaving him, his arms wrap around your legs to keep you in place. 
“don’t leaaaaave.” he whines, resting his chin on your chest to look up at you. 
“i need to shower and clean up before bed. plus your mother is going to have your throat, ya know.” you poke his little pink nose, making his face scrunch up cutely.
“you’re right, you’re right.” he grumbles sadly, patting your outer thigh before he completely pulls back and stands up straight. he leans forward to swiftly peck your lips, “just needed one more, m’sorry. i’ll see you tomorrow.” he turns around to climb down the rest of the steps. 
“goodnight, neteyam!” you shout at him as you unlatch the metal door. 
he turns around at the sound of your voice, “goodnight.” he whisper-yells back at you as he slowly walks backwards to watch you slip inside. 
neteyam’s smile on his face doesn’t falter, not even for one second. the only thing on his mind is you. he never would have imagined that his day would have ended like this. confessing his feelings to you, and kissing you goodnight. it’s almost as if he’s living through a fantasy his younger self dreamed of. 
the excitement of you makes him toss and turn throughout the night; it makes him nervous, knowing that he is already head over heels for you and in too deep- but all he can worry about now, is seeing you tomorrow. 
-
tags: @k----a27s @aspenreadsfanfic @aliseaaah
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