#I was so suspicious of the Summer Court | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

acotarxreader · 4 months

Text

Other Worlds

Azriel x reader

Synopsis: Nesta accidentally pulls you from our realm into theirs and a certain Spymaster can't help but be enamoured.

Original Request: "So I was wondering if you could do like Reader is from the modern world but ends up in the ACOTAR world, and ends up like falling in love with one of batboys."

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of cuts from a fall, my silly wordplay

A/N: I loved writing this, it really had me in my silly sense of humor (at one point Azriel is jealous because he thinks Xanax is a person) and just like also so happy to have written my first request! I hope you like it Anon and tolerate my silliness.

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

“Do you think she’s dead?”

“Hard to say, you fall that height and would expect it” Nesta gently rocked the body back and forth with the sole of her shoe and you groaned.

“This is exactly why you shouldn’t practice without Amren Nesta” Feyre bit out.

“And how was I supposed to know that a human would fall out of the sky? And besides, I did catch her before she hit the ground” Feyre gave a huff to her sister’s bored tone.

“But not before all the trees Nesta”

“Details, details”

“Rhys is gonna kill you, we have to move her before he finds out” Feyre got level with your marbling body, sticks and leaves sticking out of your hair from your fall through the canopy above. Nesta folded her arms across her chest in protest as Feyre rolled you onto your back, a deep whimper escaping your throat.

“Well she’s not dead”

“For now” Nesta raised an amused eyebrow before rolling her eyes and squatting to lift your feet as Feyre caught your shoulders with her own disapproving look.

“Her clothes are so odd, is it continent fashion?”

“Hard to say, the material on her legs is so…dense?” Nesta replied, a thumb rolling over the cuff of your jeans, your Doc Marten burying into her sternum.

The two sisters carried your weak body through the hillside towards the cabin they had retreated to for a break from the Illyrians. They reached the humble home after a small uphill climb in the Winter air and gently placed you down on the couch again. The two stood then at the foot of the couch, unsure of what to do next with their new house guest, a thud from outside followed by a swear interrupting their thoughts.

“Shit it's Azriel with the food supplies you forgot”

“You forgot” Feyre returned

“Whatever, here help me cover her” The two sisters sheathed you in a thick woollen blanket as Azriel pushed through the door causing the females to shoot straight up, standing shoulder to shoulder to try to hide you behind them.

“Hey, I dropped a bottle of liquor on the path sor- what are you two doing?” he looked suspiciously at the two, plopping the crate of food down by the mouth of the door.

“Nothing!” their heads snapped to one another at the same time, cursing their simultaneous reply.

“You two have the same look on your face that Cassian had when he was trying to hide the blood ruby he got from Summer Court after his experiment with arson” he gave a laugh that turned nervous when the females didn’t do the same, another almost panicked glance shared between them.

“Well if that’s all Az, thanks for coming” Feyre made a quick movement to Azriel, catching his shoulders and turning him back towards the door, Nesta taking a wide stance to try to obscure more of you.

“Fucking hell” your voice rattled out in pain as you pushed to sit up, the wool sinking down to your lap as your heavy hand found your bleeding head. Azriel’s eyes grew to nearly the width of his skull as he looked frantically between Nesta and Feyre.

“She did it!” they said in unison again, pointing to one another.

“Oh Rhys is going to kill you” he whispered angrily, moving to the couch as Nesta sidestepped, throwing an anxious look at Feyre.

“Whe-re the fuck a-m I? What happ-ened?” your hand traced through your thick hair, branches catching in the locks. You squeezed your eyes together tightly, trying to bring the cozy cabin into focus before swinging your legs to the ground and supporting your weight with one arm. Your movement went entirely still as you looked up to find the three members of the Night Court staring at you with matching bewilderment.

“Am-am I dead?” Your stare landed on Azriel’s wings, conclusions forming quickly.

“No unfortunately not” Feyre elbowed Nesta into the ribs as Azriel analysed your whole figure with his hazel eyes, his shadows swirled around his feet until they wrapped around yours. Your shriek of pure terror caused them to dash back to their master.

“You're okay!” Azriel tried but it was too late, you were in full panic mode, your system shutting down in utter distress until you felt your blood pressure hit the soles of your feet after hitting the ceiling, sending you into a loss of consciousness.

“Nice going you big bat, you killed her” Azriel gave a dirty look towards Nesta, her eyes rolling for the thousandth time that day.

“Send for Madja-”

“-Rhys will kill Nesta for this”

“Well I think her little magic trick will die without her” Feyre folded her arms into her chest, weighing up the options.

“We could give her the tonic that's here, let her heal without everyone gawking at her at home. I’ll go back with Nesta and explain, by the time we’re here again perhaps she’ll be healed and Amren will be home from her travels and can send her back”

“And am I supposed to play healer Feyre?”

“Well you have more experience with healing because of the battlefield than us and besides, Nesta isn’t known for her bedside manner” Azriel sighed before rubbing a hand across his face at Feyre’s logic, she showed him how you got here in his head to help her point.

“Okay fine, go but if she dies, I’m not to blame” They nodded in agreement, taking another look at your floppy body before heading for the door with their things, kicking the box of supplies out of the way.

Azriel lifted your legs slowly back onto the couch before fetching a dish full of mountain water and healing tonic. He hovered the cloth over one of your large gashes that had cut straight through your straight-leg jeans. He looked over your body, unable to hide his curiosity towards the university logo decorating your sweatshirt, the deep purple colouring at the very ends of your hair as well as the multiple pieces of metal piercing through your ear's cartilage. Despite the series of cuts and bruises generously coating you, Azriel believed you might be the most beautiful creature he had ever seen and you were entirely out for the count.

He sighed, dropping the cloth back into the dish and going to make tea with another healing concoction. He rolled his shoulders back and tucked his wings in as tight as possible to minimise their appearance before gently tapping your shoulder to bring you around. When that didn’t work, he fetched one of Cassian’s training boots and ran it beneath your nose, you stirred immediately. You went to shoot up in shock, his strong steady hand, gently pressing you back down.

“You’re okay, you…you just fell but you’re okay.” he said as softly as possible, the ease of his voice unable to settle the rising worry across your face.

“I-I fell?” he gave you a small nod, not entirely a lie he thought to himself.

“Fucking hell my head-” you once again ran your hands down your face, the dry blood slightly flaking in the movement “-do you have any paracetamol or something?”

“Para-what-almol?” Azriel’s eyebrow raised in question before he reached for the tea he made for you from the small table behind him. You removed your hands from your face and looked towards the squatting Illyrian, taking in the beautiful male in front of you, pain being replaced by embarrassment. You pushed up despite his disapproval look, returning to the same position you were in before you fainted.

“Sorry, I should-I should go? Emm…where are we?”

“This is Velaris”

“Velentia?! How did I get here?!” You shot to your feet in surprise, the blood rushing and sending you shakenly back to the soft fabric almost as quickly.

“No, I’m not sure where that is but you’re not there, here take this” he passed the cup with a half laugh and you looked down unconvinced.

“No thanks man, not here to be poisoned” Azriel scoffed in slight offense as he watched you wince to put it back on the small table. You look down at your freshly ripped jeans, your fingers tracing the fresh wounds.

“I’m Azriel” His voice brought your eyes back to him as he passed you the soaked cloth, allowing you to run it over the gashes.

“YN” You gave a small smile back, fighting the singe of the elixir.

“YN? That’s an odd name”

“You say that as if there’s an Azriel at every petrol station in town” You half laugh, more questions entering Azriel’s head than answers. Azriel rose to his feet and headed into the kitchen with the abandoned groceries as you finished with your leg, starting on your forehead.

“No paper here or something?” Azriel looked towards you as you took the cabin in in all its glory, Feyre’s artwork the object of your marvelling.

“They’re Feyre’s, she was here earlier. She went a bit mad up here when she found out Rhysand was her mate”

“Mate? Oh she’s like Australian?”

“What? You speak in riddles” he laughed, joining your side on the couch with his own cup of tea. You looked at it with an air of hunger, not unnoticed by the Spymaster, he looked from the cup to your face.

“You can drink it YN, it’s not poisoned, here look I’ll take a sip” You watched him take a taste before offering it back to you where you took it from him, its fresh floral taste having an almost reviving effect, you drank it almost one gulp.

“Now, I’m afraid you can’t go home just y-”

“Fuck I knew it! What’s in this tea?! I’m being kidnapped!” You shot towards the door, almost knocking the dish of water all over the floor, sending Azriel swearing. You reached your exit and with a wave of his hand, Azriel locked it from the inside.

“YN, no one is going to hurt you, you just, this is going to be hard to explain, one of my…friends brought you here by accident” You still tried to pull on the knob of the door, glancing from it to Azriel as he stood to close the distance.

“Stay back! I know self-defence!” Azriel couldn’t hold his laugh at the small human girl before him threateningly looking at him. He went to catch your arm softly, only for you to send your heavy-booted Doc straight into his instep, followed by the base of your palm up and into his nose, the shock of your sudden movement catching him off guard. He groaned slightly reaching for his nose as it bled, missing your hand reaching for the keys in your pocket and the mace on the keychain. Azriel roared at the feeling of the spray of chemicals burning into his eyes, sending him onto the floor writhing in pain.

“Fuck! Fine! Die in the snow!” He shouted out, waving his hand and releasing the door. You hardly heard him, whipping the door back as the now night air lashed in near-freezing gails of icy snow. You fought the tornado of air as you put the oak door between you and it, sliding down the wood to the ground, your body screaming in pain still from the fall. Azriel sat up, still blinking hard to clear the burning liquid.

“And you thought I’d be the one to use poison” A breathy laugh left him as his red eyes watered and you found yourself matching his smile.

“I promise I won’t kill you, if you don’t kill me” he gave you a genuine look and for some reason you felt such a wave of trust hit you. You agreed, too tired to run from him or face the snow and you rolled your head along the door before looking back at the Illyrian, tracing your eyes along his linen shirt and leather pants

“Are you in a motorbike gang or something?”

“Gods I hope you start making sense soon” he pushed up from the ground, doing his best to not untuck his wings for balance. You looked up at him and reluctantly took the hand he offered, noting the deep scaring covering them like burls on a tree. He followed your eyes to his hands before he gingerly took them back to replace them across his still-stinging eyes. Azriel threw himself back down on the couch and you followed suit.

“I’m sorry about the-” you gestured to your own eyes and he gave a small laugh.

“It’s okay, I’m impressed a human would have such speed, to be honest”

“Human? And what are you a fish?”

“No” he didn’t return your laughing tone, only reaching for your disregarded cloth and placing it over his eyes. Your hand ran down the side of your jeans until you retrieved your phone, the screen fully destroyed from your dance with the trees.

“Great” you sighed, throwing it down on the table, Azriel watching the action.

“Nesta couldn’t save your mirror from the fall?”

“Nesta? Rhysand? Azriel? No one called like Dave around here?”

“Not really the fashion in Prythian” he smiled.

“Prythian? Like from the children's stories?” you chuckled at him.

“No, Prythian like the realm” he tossed the cloth back into the dish, the red in his eyes subsiding.

“My mom used to tell me stories about Prythian and these like great bat boy warriors with these really big-big-win…” you trailed off as you looked to see the shape of Azriel’s wings over his shoulder.

“Really big? Well, thanks for the flattery” He laughed aloud as your face greyed.

“Fuck, it’s happened, studying for my physics final has finally driven me insane, this is all in my head, a stress-induced dream” Azriel reached to your thigh and gave you a gentle pinch following your matter-of-fact speech, causing you to flinch a little.

“Okay so not a dream…”

“Not a dream, my brother’s lovely ma-wife’s sister, pulled you through a sort of rip in the realm and landed you here…not very carefully might I add” He said softly so as to not have you black out again, you nodded very very slowly to his words. You faced away from him, fixing your stare on the smashed phone, you thought of your physics lectures. The theories of tears in the fabric of time being possible, the possibility of alternative realities, the possibility of unexplored realms before settling finally that this wasn’t a possibility, this was a reality.

“So, okay, right-” you bit your lip, working through the thought, Azriel trying to push the shiver down his spine away at that action “-okay cool, right, so I’m gonna need like an excuse note or something for the exam and then, right, cool, Xanax maybe”

“Is Xanax a friend of yours who can help?” Your head shot towards Azriel at his genuine question and you let a roar of laughter leave you.

“Definitely although I don’t think they’re here somehow” you offered with a smirk, Azriel feeling a weird sense of jealousy at not being the object of this smile.

“Well, we’ll make do and try to get you home” You nodded sheepishly to him.

“Do you not want to go home YN? You seemed pretty eager when you tried to break my nose earlier” he smiled and you gently knocked into his shoulder playfully.

“I mean…I’m not in a rush to get back to the test”

“Okay well, it will be a day or two before my friends are back and Rhys has calmed down over Nesta bringing you to greet us so you’ll have time. As for now, care to have something to eat? You can help me make it so we both know neither is trying to poison the other” he gave a light laugh while standing again, and you followed him along to the kitchen.

For the rest of the night, the both of you spent your time cooking, laughing and teaching one another about your worlds. Azriel explained the Courts, his role and his family’s as well as giving a shortened version of their relationships with one another. In return, you told him about your studies, what Instagram was and how democracy works. Azriel wasn’t sure he’d ever felt such strong feelings towards someone he’d just met before and it confused him almost as much as what microwaves were.

“Here you go, a glass of our best liquor, you deserve it” Azriel passed you the tumbler as you sat cross-legged on the couch beneath the woollen blanket you were previously hidden under.

“Oh slay”

“No, I didn’t kill anything to get this for you” You almost choked on the drink with the laugh that left you at his confused words.

“No Azriel it’s like-actually maybe I’ll explain drag culture to you another day” He nodded eagerly at the prospect of learning more, sinking into the couch alongside you with his own drink.

“So have you girlf-mate type person like Feyre and Rhys?”

“No, no girlf-mate type person-” he teased back and you sighed, clipping him with the pillow from under your elbow “-do you?”

“Nope, to be honest, I don’t think I’ll be missed from home, I lost my parents young and never really found my flock at college either” you shrugged.

“How could anyone not miss you YN?”

“You have to say that, you’re my captor”

“Actually Nesta captured you, I’m just minding you-” You returned his smirk “-speaking of which, time for sleep, tomorrow they should be back to figuring getting you home for your exam” you whined like a misbehaving child but you’d been fighting off sleep since dinner so agreed with him.

He lead you to his room in the cabin before offering you one of his clean linen shirts and leaving you to sleep. You practically swam in the fabric, with no wings or Illyrian muscles to fill it out, feeling the same way about the colossal bed that you slipped into. You looked up at the ceiling where Feyre had painted delicate little consolations, the day washing over you, had all your prayers finally been answered? You smiled as you gave into the sleep that hunted you all day.

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

“We are sending her back!”

“Amren can’t guarantee she’ll end up in her realm, she’s not going anywhere!” You wiped the sleep from your eyes, Azriel's blunt tone waking you from the best sleep of your life.

“She can’t stay here Az!”

“And what if she ends up somewhere a lot worse, she coul-oh YN you’re awake” You looked from the doorway between the two gorgeous Illyrians.

“This is Rhysand”

“Oh, your majesty I suppose” you did a half bow after stepping closer to the males, a small laugh leaving Rhysand at the action.

“Don’t flatter him YN”

“YN, flatter me if that would make you happy” he grinned, Azriel rolling his eyes.

“You’re exactly as described” You shrugged at him, settling down on the couch between where the lllyrians stood

“I would like to apologies for Nesta’s…interuption to your day to day life and more so for…probably being all Nesta when you woke up” Rhysand offered, Azriel folding his arms tightly across his chest as he inspected you closely, you in his shirt may now be his favourite sight. Rhysand watched the slight change in his brothers demanour at your presence, this increasing his worry.

“Now YN, it’s time we get you back to-”

“-I heard you guys say you can’t say for certain I’ll get home” you cut across Rhysand, his eyes darting back to you, Azriel trying to bury his smirk.

“I’m confident we know how to get you there”

“Okay cool, so Feyre will accompany me”

“What?” Rhysand bit out.

“Well its just if you’re so sure you’ll get me in the right spot, surely you’ll have no issue allowing Feyre to accompany me yanno, since you’re confident” Azriel lost his battle in holding in his smirk.

“She’s got you there Rhys, if one of us wouldn’t do it, why should she?”

“Because she doesn’t belong here” Rhysand chewed out, locking eyes with his brother.

“She is sitting right here and she isn’t going near any wormhole or whatever if you’re not sure I’d get there safe” You forced his attention back to your with your sharp words.

“Who said anything about worms?”

“YN has a habit of speaking in riddles” Azriel sat alongside you, giving you a somewhat proud smile, his arm instinctively resting on the back of the couch behind you.

“YN, I’m sure you’re great but I can almost guarantee that our world is vastly different to yours, it’s a lot to take on for your mortal mind, perhaps we could arrange a home for you in the mortal realm?” you tilted your head side to side weighing up his offer before Azriel replied for you.

“I can teach her our ways, I can school her like you did Feyre” Rhysand sighed out but couldn’t deny the way Azriel looked at you and you at him was deeply familiar to him.

“Fine, a week, you may stay a week and if it doesn’t work out then the mortal realm it is, we’ll set you up with a nice manor and you’ll live very comfortably”

“Like Downton Abbey?” you teased despite your audience.

“I’m not familiar with that region”

“Is that where the drag culture is?”

“Of sorts” you laughed at Azriel and his quizzical words, his hazel eyes so enamoured by the sight, further cementing Rhysand’s suspicions. Rhysand sighed deeply ensuring you agreed to the terms and to be taught by Azriel before he left to continue to reprimand Nesta.

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

Over the next week it became abundantly clear that despite being from two different realms, you and Azriel were made for one another. You both had the same humor and intelligence as well as thirst for knowledge. You continued to teach him about your home and he taught you about the new world around you and the more you learned the less you wanted to leave. On your first day in Velaris, you thought your heart may burst with the growing love for the place and even more so for your guide.

“And then Cass completely blew the building up, I thought the vein was going to burst in Rhysand’s head” Azriel tilted his head back and laughed loudly while you both crossed the bridge of the Sidra, your last official day in the Night Court before you had to decide. Somewhere along the way, Azriel and your hands became interlocked and forgot to separate.

“You live such insane lives here”

“And you could too” he stopped you in your tracks, his eyes warming over your body as he looked down on you, the sinking sun reflecting off of the snow.

“Maybe with less arson though” he added with a grin you loved so much.

“Az, I’d love to stay but-”

“-No, just say ‘Az I’d love to stay’ and leave it there” he fought his faltering smile as you looked down at his shoes, both hands held in his now.

“But Az-” you couldn’t find the end of the sentence, the words lost on Azriel’s lips as they met yours with such searing passion. His mouth slotted over yours with such a perfect fit it was like they were always meant to be there. You stood further on your toes to deepen the kiss as his hands traced around the nape of your neck and yours landed around his torse. You separated when the need for air almost matched the need to never let go.

“I-I can’t remember the end of my last thought” you laughed lightly and he grinned. “So you’ll stay?”

“I don’t think I was ever going to be able to walk away from you…well not without mace anyways” you smiled back into another kiss, the second of many many more.

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

Let Me Know What You Think Friend!?

Part Two

2K notes · View notes

nickel156 · 3 months

Text

Rhysand being evil is way more interesting than justifying his shitty decisions.

So here's my list of things Rhysand has done that I think make him evil.

1. His SA of Feyre UTM. Him drugging her and making her dance for him until she pukes

2. Illusory truth effect

3. Manipulates Feyre to glorify himself and make Tamlin look worse. Like he taxes his people but condemns the Tithe.. which is just a form of taxes.

4. Steals the book from Summer

5. Having Feyre be his pet in HC to get the Orb, but then didn't need her to put the Orb back.

6. Helps Cassian kill an entire town of Illyrians.

7. Doesn't stop the mistreatment of Females in the CoN.

8. Doesn't stop the mistreatment of Illyrian females or stop the wing clipping.

8. Tortures the fae of HC.

10. Didn't tell Feyre about the baby wings.

11. Locks Nesta up like a prisoner as a means to control her.

12. Kills 24 Winter Court children.

13. Suicide baiting Tamlin after he saved his life.

14. Threatening to kill Nesta after she told Feyre she was going to die

15. Twisting Feyre’s injured and infected arm and making her scream

16. Making Feyre hunt the ring from the freaking weaver as if testing her

17. Forcing Feyre into a bargain to punish Tamlin and control her.

I'm sure I'm missing some!

So please feel free to add to the list!

Also Amren was locked in that prison, possibly the reason she gave was a lie.

Mor is suspicious af.

Cassian is cruel and you can't convince me otherwise.

Azriel's job is literally torturing people..

#anti rhysand #anti feysand #anti nessian #anti inner circle #anti amren #anti cassian

222 notes · View notes

torukmaktoskxawng · 4 months

Text

tsamsiyu ta'em - calm before the storm

Masterlist - part seventeen

Summary: Just as the chapter's title suggests. It was the calm before the storm…

Pairing: Ronal/Tonowari/Original Female Character

Tag: #tsamsiyu ta'em fic

posted on ao3

Word Count: 11k+

Warnings: Fluff! Some awkwardness that happens after one makes a confession lol. Trauma regarding torture, loss of a child, body dysmorphia, etc. There's a plot twist at the end of this chapter ;)

Taglist (bold indicates "could not tag"): @motheroffae @undeniableadrenaline @mooniequeen @shit-i-say-shit-i-think @heart-an0n @amiets2 @slutforsmut4ever @yeosxxx @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @sucker4angstt @inolaphoenix @ilovechickenwings @tojisleftarm @andyfromku @ivysully @lightandshadow31 @jamie-poopoo @brittney69 @avatar-lover @ikeyniofthetayrangi @cardi-bre91

A/n: Hiii 🥰 I'm very sorry for the hiatus that I originally promised wasn't going to be a hiatus. To escape life, I dove into other fixations such as Destiny 2, the Fallout show, Dune Part 2, and Bridgerton... yeah, I did some bouncing. So far, my summer has been fantastic! Anyway, here's another chapter before I inevitably disappear again 😂

Enjoy!

If there was anything Kayla was extremely grateful for, it was that Spider didn't have a heightened sense of smell as the Na'vi did.

She could smell both Ronal and Tonowari on her skin, and while it internally delighted her, she felt her skin prickle at the thought of Spider of all people being traumatized and learning about her very recent courting by smell alone as they share close quarters with one another. The thought mortified her more than anything, more than the idea of eventually having to tell Jake.

Thankfully, Spider returned home that day none the wiser, Ronal and Tonowari already long gone even with their scents still lingering in Kayla's nose. She felt like a teenager again, embarrassed and trying to hide it from her parents. However, she quickly stomped down that thought at the harsh reminder that she's a grown-ass woman and Spider wasn't a very judgemental kid. He was also someone who had caught onto Ronal and Tonowari's interest in Kayla early on and wouldn't be surprised if he learned the truth.

With that in mind, Kayla emerged from her kelku the next morning wearing the new top the Metkayina clan leaders had gifted her. For a very brief moment, she felt exposed and uncomfortable, the woven beads cool against her skin, but then, she looked down at herself and felt her body relax to see that the top covered just about as much as her threadbare red shirt did. It wasn't even close to revealing as some of the tops Kayla had seen Na'vi women wear, even with the low cut. A small part in the back of Kayla's head felt delighted to realize that this top was definitely made for her.

She still wore her shorts, but the small change in attire was still noticeable as she quickly learned. Na'vi eyes silently observed her as she walked through the village, and even though she heard the Metkayina whisper as she passed them, they weren't hateful or disgusted, but more in awe. Her skin crawled because she didn't know if she preferred it or would much rather have them feel indifferent to her again.

While their eyes all noticed her top, Kayla almost felt the need to throw her shirt back over herself at the thought that the Metkayina might also smell her new scent as well. It would explain the way their noses would twitch and their ears all perk up and turn in her direction when they haven't even noticed her presence yet.

If Spider noticed any of it, he didn't say a word, instead, he informed Kayla that he would be deep-diving with the other reef boys that afternoon. Something crawled in her stomach at the reminder of Ao'nung and other reef boys leaving Lo'ak alone outside the reef before she sternly told Spider to make sure either Lo'ak or Tsireya was with them. Apart from the small, suspicious stare, Spider didn't question her, taking his new bow in hand and heading out to meet his friends, waving back to Kayla as he went and promising to be back before supper.

Walking along the beach, Kayla recognized the tsahik from a mile away, fingers entangled in a worn fishing net. As Kayla walked over to the other woman, she watched the way Ronal's ears lifted and moved in her direction. Ronal looked up from her work and recognized Kayla from a distance, and by the time the dreamwalker approached her, it wasn't hard to deduce how pleased she looked, eyes dancing approvingly over the avatar woman's figure, reaching a hand out to lightly adjust the top on Kayla before nodding once with confidence,

"It suits you perfectly. I was afraid it would not be able to hold up against your beauty."

Despite having a young Na'vi body, Kayla felt as though her heart was ready to give out, her feet barely catching when she initially stumbled in reaction to Ronal's compliment. Kayla's eyes quickly averted, the tip of her ears feeling warm as she quietly thanked the tsahik and changed the subject, making plans to see both her and Tonowari later. After making a brief conversation as to what each other's plans were for the day, Kayla had turned to leave but nearly jolted out of her skin when she felt a gentle tug on her tail. She couldn't help the feigned glare she threw back at Ronal, internally delighted by the rare mischief she saw in the Metkayina woman's eyes, but trying not to show it. Kayla's fake irritation only appeared to amuse Ronal forward, the tsahik tilting her head at the avatar while appreciatively staring her up and down once more, forcing the heat from Kayla's ears to travel down her neck.

The avatar cleared her throat and then finally departed, hiding her own smile as she thought back to Ronal's well-hidden playful behavior. It was nothing like the woman who sharply tugged Kayla's tail the day they first met, further showing just how much things have changed around here.

Summoning an ilu, Kayla makes her way through the reef, reaching the atoll wall where all the various pools travel up one side like stairs, catching various sealife whenever the tide rises up and down. Dozens of Metkayina are fishing and gathering in these pools, with nets, and baskets at their feet. Kayla zeros in on one particular Na'vi and swims over after letting her ilu take off, climbing up onto the slippery wall to make her way over to her friend.

Rutxa looks up and appears smug at the sight of Kayla, blue eyes pointedly narrowed on the avatar's new top while dramatically sniffing the air, "You look... enamored. Had a good evening?"

Kayla's eyes narrow, "Don't play dumb. I bet you're just dying to weave a story about it."

Their grin remained playful, humming dramatically as if deep in thought, "Perhaps if you tell me all about it, I won't have to... fabricate any details."

Kayla lets out a humorous scoff, shaking her head, "You're horrible."

"Yes, that was what my mother called me. Don't abuse it."

The laugh that bubbles out of Kayla coincides with the screech of an approaching ikran. The sound makes Kayla pause and look up to the sky in order to discover which ikran. She only had to briefly catch the color to know the banshee was Neytiri's bonded, and a small wedge of dread made its home in Kayla's chest.

Neytiri lands her ikran gracefully, several yards away from any Metkayina as they go about the pools of the atoll wall. The Na'vi woman looks around before her eyes land on her intended target. Kayla half expected her sister-in-law to bristle at the sight of her, but she felt a small bit of genuine confusion when all she saw was a woman who was trying to appear small and guarded. If Kayla wanted to verbally taunt, she would've pointed out to Neytiri that she almost looked guilty. The two women stare at each other for some time before Neytiri takes a deep breath and starts slowly walking forward, her face pinched with dread at the idea of the long-awaited conversation she was no doubt forcing herself to partake in.

Kayla takes her own deep breath and then motions Rutxa to wait here before drifting over to meet Neytiri halfway. While it felt as though they walked forever to reach each other, both women found themselves standing right in front of one another only seconds later, neither saying a word while their eyes never fully meeting, both hesitant to say anything at first due to their ongoing impasse.

Neytiri looks Kayla up and down before she swallows her pride, both visibly and internally as she opens her mouth, "Your clothes. They are lovely."

The Sully sister's eyes dart off to the side, her words are stiff but courteous, "Thank you."

"Did the tsahik make it?"

The mention of Ronal made Kayla's ears twitch, "What gave it away?"

"It would explain why she asked me about making a bow for Spider. And--" she takes a small whiff of the air around her mate's sister, "You smell like her. Tonowari, too."

"... I see. Don't tell Jake."

She raised a hairless brow at the other woman, "I will not need to. He will smell it."

Kayla pointedly doesn't blink, finally staring directly into Neytiri's eyes with a stern expression, "Which is why I am avoiding him at the moment."

Neytiri quietly observes Kayla, yellow eyes piercing into one another's gaze, trying to sniff out each other's thoughts. The Omatikaya woman is wracked with bafflement. It is a beautiful thing for one to finally find their mate, or, in this case, mates. It should never be something to be ashamed of, as newly mated pairs often run to their families to excitedly share the news. The fact that Kayla would rather hide and avoid Jake baffles Neytiri. She wanted to hiss and scold both of the former sawtute for what was clearly a spat between siblings, along with a dash of pride, but at this time and place, she knew Kayla wouldn't accept nor appreciate her scolding.

Still, it bothered the Na'vi woman. Neytiri knew the two siblings had a lot of conflict between them, but to go as far as to not share such wonderful news with each other? Neytiri would give anything to be in Kayla's position. She would've given anything to be able to excitedly share life updates with her own sister once more. Sylwanin used to love hearing how Neytiri's day went before bed, even though Neytiri wasn't in turn thrilled to hear about what her sister and Tsu'tey would get up to in the woods. Then again, Neytiri was the only person her sister trusted with that information, and it shattered Neytiri's heart to think how she had taken that for granted. She will never make that same mistake again, and any secrets Sylwanin entrusted to her will die with Neytiri.

Hence why she couldn't bring herself to deny Kayla when the other woman was clearly trying to tell her not to share her secrets with Jake. Neytiri exhaled through her nose and nodded in defeat, "I will not breathe a word."

Kayla stiffly nodded and briefly looked away, peering over her shoulder to see if Rutxa was still waiting for her. Neytiri's conflict was easily undetected, watching Kayla when the avatar wasn't looking with a pained expression in her eyes. Everything that had come between the two women lately was pounding against Neytiri's skull, begging her to say something, to make things right, to finally confess her sins out loud. It has been plaguing her ever since the boy-- ever since Spider confronted her about her distaste and mistreatment toward him. Ever since he made her stand in the eyes of her inner demons, her hidden thoughts no longer feel as hidden as they used to be and she's been struggling to accept everything he said was true.

'Denial is a river in Egypt.' It's a phrase she's not familiar with, but it's something she remembered Grace used to say when Neytiri was a child. When the scientist explained what it meant, somehow it threaded its way into Neytiri's head, and she had yet to forget about it. No one could deny Neytiri's grief after everything she's been through, but neither could anyone deny how unfair she had been to Spider his whole life. Despite knowing how innocent he was, Neytiri refused to See him. Despite eventually accepting Jake and loving him for who he is, she couldn't do the same for Spider, and despite knowing how that hurt the child, she didn't care. Or at least-- not at the time. The fact that she didn't care for a child and his feelings was something she came to terms with long ago, but staring Kayla in the face and simply stating she wasn't Spider's mother haunted Neytiri in her sleep.

The expression Kayla gave terrified Neytiri, guilt riddled her mind and heart. She didn't originally care how her words might hurt Spider, but the guilt she felt when her words affected Kayla felt like she took an arrow through the stomach. It only got worse when Neytiri took the time to look around and see everyone else's reactions. Those who mattered most to her, her husband and her children, all had looked at her as though they didn't recognize her. They looked at her as if she was some sort of monster. After spending time to herself, replaying her words to Spider and everyone's faces, Neytiri finally admitted to herself that they were right. She was a monster. She might not be like Quaritch, but she shouldn't go around and pretend she was better than him, especially after they both held a child at knifepoint for the sake of another.

Neytiri had looked down at her reflection in the water that same day -the day Spider called her out- and suddenly realized she no longer recognized herself. Even though there were things no one could blame her for, there were still moments in her life where Neytiri knew she could've done better. Yes, she let her children play with Spider, but she never once acknowledged him. She didn't have to claim him as hers, but she could've at least made the boy feel welcome. She could've invited him to a family dinner at least once, or given a comment or two on how to properly hold a bow when she caught him trying to teach himself.

So many instances flash over Neytiri's eyes, instances where she could have shown kindness or care to a little orphaned boy who had done nothing but admire her family and love her children with every fiber of his little being. But she didn't. And when she thought back to the young woman she used to be... before Hometree and before her father... before Tsu'tey and Sylwanin... that young woman would have shown such kindness to Spider. By Eywa, that young woman might have even grown to love him as she had grown to love Jake.

Regret will forever be her friend as Neytiri finally comes to accept that she was wrong. Feeling a little more courageous with Kayla's eyes no longer on her, Neytiri spoke up once more, albeit a little more softly, and with the most sincere regret, "I am sorry."

Unaware of Neytiri's internal conflict, Kayla's eyes return to hers, squinting with disapproval, "It's not me you should be apologizing to."

Neytiri pressed her eyes shut for a moment, the guilt bleeding into her expression as her ears pinned back against her skull, "I am sorry to you as well. I had threatened your son. I almost killed him in front of you."

"He's n--" Kayla's words caught in her throat, then she swallowed them down and looked away again, trying to hide the small pain in her voice, "Thank you."

Neytiri nods, voice a little more sure, "I would not be any better than the monster who took my son away from me if I took yours."

Kayla wanted to be firm and agree, but her tongue swelled in her mouth, with something itching at the back of her mind that told her not to sound petty and vindictive. A question kept nagging at her, the same question Kiri once asked her. What would she have done if she was in Neytiri's place that night? It was a scenario she couldn't imagine in her head, even if she could imagine a lot.

She hesitates, her posture relaxing and less guarded as she softly asks, "Can... can you explain it to me? So that I can try to understand?"

A visible wince flashed over Neytiri's expression, her eyes wide with distress in response to Kayla's question. Neytiri wasn't sure she could describe what she felt... not without breaking down, that is. Then again, it had been the first time anyone had asked her how she felt instead of just assuming and giving her time to herself. She didn't want that anymore. She's had plenty of time to herself, and a part of her was angry at everyone who continued to give her a wide berth. Solitude was something she no longer needed, and she wanted everyone to stop treating her like she was going to break.

Perhaps talking about it was something Neytiri needed just as much as Kayla in order to feel some sort of comfort. The idea makes her take a deep breath and slowly answer, "It is not the same as losing a parent, in my eyes. I lost my father, and even though I miss him every day, we are told that our parents will join Eywa before us and that they will be waiting for us there when we eventually do the same. For a child... it's different. A parent should always go before their child. That should always be the way of things... and that was stolen from me. You might not know this, but you should be prepared for when Ronal has her child. When we are born, the first tsaheylu is with our mother. To form that strong and emotional bond. To lose the first child I ever bonded with--"

Kayla's tail and ears lower, blinking rapidly to contain hidden pain, her imagination running wild with everything Neytiri had described. It helped that Neytiri was trying to explain it... but Kayla couldn't imagine how it must feel for a grieving mother to say all of this out loud.

Neytiri sucks in a sharp, wheezing breath, but it wavers and her lips begin to quiver. Her eyes grow wet with tears as her hand reaches up to try and gently claw at her chest, visibly and verbally shaking, "The pain for my father and even my sister do not compare... I feel as though I have a gaping wound in my chest that will not stop bleeding. It's always there, ever flowing, and I cannot take a breath without remembering it. My baby who I had kept safe inside me for so long... suddenly ripped from my arms before he could find love... or have a family... or be the olo'eyktan he was always meant to be... I had always wanted to see him as a father, and now I will never have that."

Saying it out loud felt as though she was living Neteyam's death all over again. Fresh tears spilled down Neytiri's beautiful face, carving a familiar path down her cheeks as a sob interrupted her explanation. Her chest squeezed painfully, and her sobs only got worse as Kayla suddenly reached out and pulled her into a tight embrace, purposely hiding Neytiri's face as the grieving mother continued to cry her heart out, wishing she could just be numb. Neytiri didn't miss the way Kayla buried her own wet face to hide from the world, nuzzled into Neytiri's shoulder. The female Na'vi continued to sob, and even though the grief was still too fresh, it helped to have finally put it all into words. It helped to know that someone was trying to understand her when she felt as though everyone else could only pity her.

"I'm sorry..." Kayla whispered as Neytiri's cries began to subside, "I could never imagine what that feels like."

Neytiri didn't miss how her shoulder felt wet where Kayla's face lay, and something inside the Na'vi woman snapped into place. She didn't want Kayla to imagine. She didn't even want Kayla to understand because that would mean having her sister-in-law go through the same agony she went through. Neytiri didn't want anyone to go through the loss of a child, let alone her husband's dear sister. The thought of having Kayla go through pain similar to hers nearly brought Neytiri to anger. Determined and dry of her tears, Neytiri pulled away, lifting her hands to rest gently on Kayla's shoulders, fixing her with a sharp eye.

"I do not want you to ever experience this pain. I do not want you to end up like me, ma tsmuke."

Kayla shook her head, "There's nothing that says it's wrong to end up like you. You're a good woman and a good mother. You're fiercely protective of your children. Any mother would thrive if they were even remotely like you," watching doubt and pain creep back up Neytiri's face drives Kayla to quickly add, "And I was wrong if I ever suggested otherwise. I never blamed you for protecting your children, Neytiri."

"I know," the Na'vi woman whispers, eyes briefly lowering to the ground in shame, "But I should have never belittled you for protecting yours."

The two women stand in silence once more, now filled with understanding as two mothers protecting their young. With her newfound determination, Neytiri raises her head high, straightens her posture, and stiffly nods, "If you'll allow me, I will go apologize to the boy."

Kayla is silent for the moment, carefully watching Neytiri before slowly replying, "... I better not hear that you hurt him again."

"You won't."

And with that, both women nod and part ways. Neytiri moves back in the direction of her ikran while Kayla stands still and watches her leave. Wiping the remaining tear tracks on her face as she walked, a thought crossed Neytiri's mind, making her pause in her tracks. A brief memory of Sylwanin flashes through her mind, happy and glowing as she tells Neytiri that Tsu'tey had begun courting her. It was a small pain in her heart at the memory, a small pinprick of a needle, faint but still causing her heart to bleed at the thought of her sister. Swiftly turning back around, Neytiri briefly sees Sylwanin in the flesh, standing there with a beaming smile before the facade fades, and reverts back to Makayla, whose head was tilted while quizzically watching Neytiri.

Neytiri's breath stuttered for a moment before the words began to tumble from her mouth, "For what it is worth, ma tsmuke, I am happy for you. If Ronal or Tonowari or either of them hurt you, I will kill them for you."

The words briefly stun Kayla, eyes wide and jaw open with shock, before the spell breaks and she finds herself laughing. The needle in Neytiri's heart fades, along with the pain of her sister's memory. Neytiri found herself smiling as well, proud that she pulled such a reaction from her new sister.

~~~~~~~~~

As promised, Spider came home before dinner, and Kayla looked up from cleaning her AR with a smile, "Hey, kiddo."

"Do you have to do that a lot?" Spider tilts his head down at the weapon with curiosity, then briefly looks back at his charge, "Will it not work otherwise?"

Kayla rolls her lips, unsure of how to explain to a child who prefers the life of a Na'vi compared to humans. She shakes her head, "It could jam, for one. I have to clean it for the same reason you have to eat. It needs to function."

Spider nods and says nothing else, which sounds off a dozen other bells in Kayla's head, quick to understand that his questions and attempt at small talk usually meant something else was going on and he was deflecting. She knows that behavior all too well. She sets the weapon aside and gives all her attention to the teen, knowingly smirking at him, "What's up?"

His eyes immediately dart away, arms folding in around him as if to protect what little there was left to hide. He looked embarrassed, ashamed he had been caught as he mumbled under his breath, "Neytiri apologized."

Her expression melts into something solemn and sincere, nodding once, "I know."

"Did you make her?" He asked with suspicion in his gaze.

"No, but she asked me if she could."

"How come?"

Kayla shrugged, feigning innocence as she tried to play nonchalantly, "I'm guessing she was under the impression I didn't want her anywhere near you."

He stared at her for a while, unconvinced, "Right."

Then he moved on to the next topic, "'You gonna break your link tonight?"

Kayla groaned quietly, playfully rolling her eyes up at the ceiling of the marui, "Yeah. Norm radioed earlier to pester me, and I figured I'd see how everyone was doing. 'You need me to tell him anything?"

"My spares' got plenty of battery. I'll be good for a while. Tell everyone I said hi."

"You got it."

~~~~~~~~~

She wakes in the link bay with a queasy stomach and a splitting headache.

It wasn't nearly as bad as the last time she broke her link, but the moment the blinding lights of the biolab flashed in Kayla's face as the lid of the gurney was lifted, she felt her stomach turn and she had to bite the inside of her cheek.

Sitting up with a stifled groan, Kayla holds her head in her hand, trying to stop the bright room from spinning. Norm, dutifully standing beside her with his arms crossed, decided not to beat around the bush, even in her weakened state,

"You can't keep doing this, ya know. Staying back there for long periods of time is going to kill your body here, one day at a time. It's safe to say you've reached the limit of human-avatar links."

"Maybe that's a good thing, Norm," Kayla muttered, able to roll her shoulders back and sit up straight without feeling dizzy, "With data like that, the RDA won't be able to get the go-ahead with building avatars for civilians. This can keep them at bay for a while."

"But it's not a good thing for you, Kayla."

"I know. I just..." she tried waving it off, avoiding Norm's narrowed gaze like a child being scolded, "I just need a little more time."

Norm scoffed, unimpressed, "You're stubborn. Just like your brother."

When that doesn't pull a reaction out of her, Spellman decides to break more bad news, "There's more. Scouts have reported seeing a rogue ikran dressed in military gear flying through the mountains, and it's pretty close to our base. They've confirmed the rider to be Colonel Miles Quaritch."

Clouded eyes flick briefly to Norm, widened with shock before Kayla looks away again, exhaling her opinion, "Fuck."

"I thought maybe you could tell Jake for me when you get back."

Kayla is silent for a few moments before she replies, "No. No, let's not tell him."

"What?" Norm rustled.

"If we tell Jake, he'll just wanna come back and track Quaritch down. Maybe that's what Quaritch wants. Right now, Jake needs to be with his family instead of looking for revenge."

Kayla's eyes return to her friend's, wide and pleading, "Please, Norm. Please don't tell him."

They have a silent stand-off, the occasional sound of machinery breaking said silence. Eventually, Norm's posture sinks in defeat, making him look smaller and older than he actually is, "... Fine."

"Swear it."

"I swear it... unless he asks me."

Kayla scoffed, rolling her eyes, "Fine."

"... When you say you need more time, I meant when I said you're just like your brother."

She silently watched him with confusion but didn't verbally ask what he meant, waiting for him to elaborate. Norm looks off to a far wall, recounting very distant memories he hadn't thought of in years, "He was also running out of time, and he was getting desperate. He said he needed more time; time to see Neytiri again."

When Norm looked back at Kayla, he noticed she was purposely keeping her own gaze glued to the floor, her long matted hair covering most of her face, mumbling to a point where he struggled to hear her, "It's not like that this time."

"You're lying." Norm immediately retorts, taking a gamble on his theory when Kayla doesn't immediately try to defend herself. They both knew she was lying only to herself, and Norm didn't hesitate to point it out, "Something's changed."

Seeing no point in lying or keeping it secret, Kayla sighs, "Tonowari and Ronal have officially asked to court me."

Norm's eyes widen, "And...?"

"I agreed but asked to wait on the rest of it until I'm officially one of the People."

"Smart..." He couldn't help it. He needed to lighten the mood and feel a little smug. Norm deserved that much as a boastful smile spread across his face, "Also 'I told you so.'"

Kayla scowls, her eyes finally looking up at him to express how stolid she felt, "Dick."

He snorts, unaffected, finally moving to sit down next to her on the gurney, "So... do they know about... you know... the fact you can't have kids?"

Her posture visibly stiffened, "It didn't come up, no."

"That's probably something you need to discuss with them, Kayla, and soon."

"I know."

His hand reaches out to lightly tap her knee, "I am not saying that it'll be a deal-breaker for them. I don't think they'll care, to be honest. But you don't keep secrets from the people you love."

"Hey," she nudged him back, trying to force a teasing smile on her face, "Why do you think I'm telling you all this?"

"How sweet," Norm scoffs goodnaturedly, "But that's just you trying to deflect."

~~~~~~~~~

It was strange being able to sleep in the shack again, and even more strange to be the only occupant. Kayla looked around the tiny man-made space, eyes flicking to her bunk, the desk, the small kitchenette, and then the vacant wheelchair she never had the heart to throw out when she first arrived at High Camp. It now lay folded up and leaning against the corner wall, former white letters that spelled 'Sully' now unrecognizable. A fond smile graced her lips when she thought back to the three weeks she and Spider stayed here and the teenager struggled to figure out how to balance on the accessible chair as it rocked on its back wheels. The attempt ended with him falling and rolling backward and leaving Kayla in a fit of uncontrollable laughter that he eventually joined.

The thought of her boy made her chest squeeze uncomfortably for a moment, the feeling of loneliness suddenly very apparent in this small shack. How strange that she was sitting in a place she had once tried to call home, but now she felt homesick for an island that was oceans away, or in her case, one neural link away. Realistically, she could go lay down in a link bay and wake up in her marui, awaken to Spider's nivi swinging slowly just off to the side of hers as he sleeps. Kayla shook her head and smiled to herself, amused at the idea of walking to the link bay only to be intercepted by either Norm or Max, both men who had adamantly told her not to link back until it was early morning in Awa'atlu so both her human and avatar form could receive separate reprieve.

As much as she would like to entertain the idea of rest, the lingering silence in her shack made it feel as though the walls were closing in around her. Kayla knew she wouldn't be able to sleep if she were alone, so she kept herself busy instead, starting with her overgrown hair.

Looking into the mirror that night, a small sense of normalcy returned when she had managed to cut her hair to the same short length she had when she first arrived on Pandora. While her reflection didn't initially scare her anymore without any matted long hair or sunken eyes, Kayla still had a hard time recognizing the woman in the mirror without blue skin or a piercing yellow gaze. It felt wrong and her skin prickled and itched with this revelation. A twisted part inside of her wanted to try and scratch her face off until she recognized it, but she refrained from doing so, knowing how delusional it sounded. It felt as though she was living in someone else's body and she needed to return to hers despite the logical voice in her head reminding her that she was born in this body, as a human, not a Na'vi, and she was foolish to believe otherwise.

The unrealistic voice in her head argued that there was nothing wrong with being a little foolish.

~~~~~~~~~

Waking in her avatar gave Kayla a wave of relief, sitting up in her hammock and stretching as if she had never left. The worries of the night before are immediately forgotten as she and Spider venture out of the home to search for friends and family.

The three reef children Spider has been associating himself with were the first of the day to greet them, and it was clear that the silent news of the Metkayina's clan leaders' courtship was not lost to their children. Kayla was surprised when Tsireya ran up and hugged the older woman's waist, the girl giddy and unable to contain her bright smile. Spider tilts his head curiously at the interaction but otherwise says nothing.

Kayla took a peek at the girl's brother and saw a slightly different story. Ao'nung was glaring, but not at Kayla or Spider. Ao'nung was scowling at Rotxo, the latter of whom looked gobsmacked while staring up at Kayla, unable to hide his shock even as he turned to his best friend to see his reaction. Ao'nung only scoffed and shoved Rotxo's surprised face away with one hand, mumbling to Spider that they should get a move on.

"Where are we going?" Spider asked curiously.

"Father wanted to show you how to weave our fishing baskets."

His play on words wasn't lost to the group, certainly not to Kayla and Spider. The adult avatar managed to hold back the wince at the thought of Spider silently noting how Ao'nung didn't say 'my father', but did her best to pretend she didn't even notice. Instead, Kayla decided to follow Ao'nung and Spider to the chieftain's marui, while Tsireya and Rotxo had split up to do some chores, promising to catch up with the other reef and Sully kids later.

Tonowari greeted them as they entered, both he and Kayla sharing a secret smile as she crouched down beside him. Having many obligations around the village yesterday, the olo'eyktan had only been able to see Kayla from a distance and had yet to get a better look at how she appeared in her new top apart from what Ronal had described to him. Kayla could tell how much he enjoyed seeing her wearing his courting gift by the way his large hand grazed over her skin, encompassing her back whenever both Ao'nung and Spider were occupied with the task he had given them.

The two teenagers were busy weaving large pieces of what would eventually become a fishing basket between them, taking up a lot of floor space with the amount of dry grass, seaweed, and pliant wood being used to fashion and form such a large item. Tonowari was mostly instructing Spider on how to do it since Ao'nung was already skilled in basket weaving, but the chief's son was also impatient and this served as a way to tame such impulse. The olo'eyktan works effortlessly alongside them, his words gentle yet stern,

"Work together, like brothers. You are building a house. You're building your village. You're building a family."

Kayla restrains her smile, despite how warm her chest felt while watching the three of them work together in weaving. She allowed herself to play at the idea of this image being hers one day without trying to get her hopes up. As she watches Tonowari instruct Ao'nung and Spider to take turns weaving their basket pieces together, she gives into the desire to call them 'my boys'... but only in her head.

~~~~~~~~~

Flashing lights, spinning faster and faster while his eyes are forced wide open to watch, feeling as though something sharp was penetrating his skull, embedding itself into his memories...

His screams go unheard this time, and no one comes to stop the machine, not even Quaritch, as the blood drips from his nose, bare skin cold against metal. Spider feels as though his head is going to explode--

Sitting up in his nivi, Spider finds himself gasping for air while his eyes try to get accustomed to darkness... no flashing lights in sight. His hammock gently swings with him as he moves, his mind taking an embarrassingly long time to remember where he was. Spider takes a bunch of large, greedy gulps of air, his breathing mask hissing in tandem, while he looks around the marui to remember he isn't alone.

Kayla was sitting up in her hammock and carefully watching him. Spider's mind briefly felt shame for being responsible for waking her, but he was too busy breathing to form an apology. It's not like she would accept it anyway. The two of them have already spent countless nights waking up due to Spider's nightmares, and Kayla has been adamant in assuring him that he wasn't at fault for any of it. Once she knows Spider is aware of her presence, Kayla silently stands up and moves over to the kid, standing over his nivi as he's sitting up, starting to relax.

When trying to talk, his throat felt raw and his voice only added to it, "... Hey."

"Hey," Kayla bravely reaches out to cup the back of his head, her hand a gentle, warm weight that feels a lot better than a cold, metal slab, "Was it the scanner again?"

He nods, but the moment Kayla goes to step away, something inside him panics. It felt stupid and childish, but Spider couldn't stop the impulse that made his arms move around Kayla's torso and pull her into a tight hug, pressing his mask up against her ribs as his body started to uncontrollably shake.

Kayla froze, arms raised in the air with hesitancy, blinking multiple times to ensure she was still wide awake and not just imagining this. The teenager only burrows further into her as if she had just found him lost in a shopping mall. For several seconds, she didn't even dare to breathe so as not to spook him before she eventually began to relax and gently settle her large arms around his shoulders, her voice softer than before,

"Alright... it's alright, Spider. You're safe now. What do you need?"

"Just," Spider huffed, feeling incredibly stupid yet distressed at the same time. He knows he shouldn't be acting so small and meek, but the idea of going back to sleep terrified him, "Talk. About anything."

The marui is filled with silence as Kayla wracks her brain to come up with things to say, and then decides that now might as well be as good of a time as any, especially if it meant helping distract Spider from his nightmares, "... Ronal and Tonowari have asked me to be their mate."

Initially, he's quiet while digesting the news, but he's honestly not surprised. He thinks back to the way both clan leaders and even their children had been treating him differently today and the day before. It explains the certain looks Spider has seen other Metkayina give Kayla and her new attire... and it would possibly explain Neytiri's sudden apology to him.

Instead of pointing all of these signs out to his guardian, Spider just snorts in his mask and keeps his arms around her waist, "I told you so."

"Shut up," Kayla huffed under her breath, but even he could tell there was no heat behind it, especially since her arms only tightened around him, "I'm not taking an 'I told you so' remark from a sixteen-year-old, especially since I already got that from Norm. I'm dense, okay?"

Spider laughed and let the silence linger for a minute before reopening his mouth, "... So? Did you accept?"

"Not entirely. I told them I wanted to wait until after my Iknimaya is complete."

"Makes sense. That's usually the way it goes. Courting sometimes lasts years for the Na'vi, so it's not entirely something they wouldn't be used to. You did the right thing."

Kayla's tail leisurely sways behind her, the tone in her voice sounding hopeful, "You think so?"

He closes his eyes for a moment, allowing himself to feel like a child for once, to be held and comforted before he answers quietly, "Yeah. I do."

~~~~~~~~~

While it was an honest answer, there were slightly different intentions behind it. Spider was impressed by the way Kayla handled her courtship, and any respectable Na'vi would approve of her mature decision to wait. However, Spider now felt as though he was racing against the clock, and at least this way, he still had some time to prove himself useful.

Now that he was proven right that Ronal and Tonowari did, in fact, wish to mate with Kayla, Spider felt the need to work harder and become a more willing and helpful individual. He did what he could without the ability to connect with a tswin and tried to always give a helping hand whenever and wherever. Offering help wasn't hard, especially if he offered it to Tsireya since she always had something for him to do, but some Na'vi still have a hard time accepting Spider's help for... obvious reasons.

But even if the Metkayina didn't want his help, the human teen wasn't just going to lie down in defeat. He found many ways of helping around the village, either by his friends' side or himself, now that everyone wasn't as worried about leaving him alone. Other than to help with chores, Spider barely spent time with his friends outside of work, too busy trying to keep himself relevant. He wanted-- no, needed to pull his weight, too ashamed of the idea of being useless to the point he would get left behind again. As silly as he felt for still having such fears... it was still warranted. He wanted to give the Metkayina a chance to trust him and consider him a viable part of this village so they wouldn't make him leave. As much as he missed the Forest, he couldn't bear the thought of going back alone. So if his friends and his... guardian were staying here, then so was he, and he was determined to prove that he deserved to stay here.

These thoughts plagued him almost every waking moment and thus distracted him from the world around him. While Spider was busy gutting and cleaning some fish Lo'ak had caught, he was approached by the very clan leaders he sought to impress, but hadn't noticed their presence until they spoke,

"Hello, Spider."

Spider's posture straightens instinctively in response to Tonowari's strong voice. Looking to his right, the teenager glanced up and met eyes with the olo'eyktan, standing tall beside his mate and greeting the boy with a pleasant smile. Spider stood up and appropriately greeted the clan leaders with a gesture of his hand and a small, almost sheepish smile, "Hello."

"Is your bow of any use?"

It was difficult to see behind the mask, but Tonowari could've sworn Spider's eyes brightened at the mention of his bow, "It's solid and nicely made. Thanks again."

"Of course."

Spider briefly glanced at the silent Ronal, and he felt as though he imagined the smile on the tsahik's face and quickly looked away to pretend he didn't see it, "Uh... is there anything I can do for you two?"

While Ronal may or may not have been smiling, Spider dared to describe Ronal's tone as sounding almost light when she spoke, "There might be."

Tonowari chuckled at her being vague and decided to specify for the boy who looked between the two of them with such confusion, "We came to ask for your blessing."

The boy tilts his head, "My... blessing?"

"To court your guardian, Makayla te Suli."

Spider appeared uneasy by their motive, crossing his arms over his chest while the confusion was still evident, "Why are you asking me? Shouldn't you be asking Jake?"

Ronal snorts lightheartedly, "Makayla has been vocal about who we should and shouldn't be asking for permission. It's not her brother's approval she wants, it's yours."

He stood there, motionless, trying to figure out the ever-growing puzzle in his head that was made in Kayla's image. He didn't know why she would tell both of her future mates to seek him out over Jake, someone who was related to her by blood, despite their differences. While Spider understood that Makayla felt responsible for him, that didn't mean he was suddenly entitled to any life-changing decisions she had to make. It's not like her decision to join Ronal and Tonowari's family would affect Spider... much.

The idea of being left in an empty marui came to mind, but he quickly stomped the image down, glancing off toward the ocean as he finally gave the two clan leaders his answer, "Then... yeah, I guess it's fine."

~~~~~~~~~

They must have told Kayla his answer, because once she returned home, Spider was met with a cautious look in her eyes,

"And you're really okay with this?" She asked without even greeting him.

Knowing what she was talking about without even asking, Spider only looked at her with the same confusion he had given Ronal and Tonowari, "Yeah?"

"Kid, I'm not doing anything that's going to make you uncomfortable."

Guilt ate away at his stomach, his sole purpose of trying to remain useful to the Metkayina still at the forefront of his mind. He didn't want Kayla to hold herself back for the sake of his comfort. That would only make him a burden and that was the last thing he wanted. He needed to prove that he didn't need her should the day come when she moved into the chieftain's marui and he was left behind.

Trying to keep his expression neutral, Spider tried to explain this to her without having to go into detail about his insecurities, "They're going to be your family someday, not mine."

Realization dawns on Kayla as her eyes widen, "Is that what you want?" When he doesn't answer, keeping his head lowered, Kayla tries a different approach when she feels as though she was onto something, "'Cause personally, I'd rather have you with me on this. I go where you go, kiddo and anyone who gets with me will have to deal with that."

Stunned, he looked up at her with disbelief, unable to help how accusatory his voice sounded, "Why? Why do you care so much?"

There it is. A question that should've been asked a long time ago, but Spider had always been afraid to ask, so confident that he wouldn't like the answer. As for Kayla, she had always been afraid of the day he'd finally ask her because she wasn't sure if she would be able to say the right thing or even give an honest answer. Half the time, she knew she was winging it when it came to taking care of Spider, but... isn't that what most people have been telling her parenting is all about? As much as she wished to continue being stubborn about it or outright refuse it, Kayla had to admit to herself that even if she would never be Spider's mother, she was the closest thing he had to a parental figure. And... she knew, deep down, that's what she wanted but she had been putting her own wants aside if it meant that's not what Spider wanted.

But clearly, he wanted to make sense as to why she wanted him to be comfortable with their new clan leaders, along with everything that came with them, so finally, Kayla took a deep breath and put it all out on the table, "Because you're a kid, Spider, and you deserve a family. I'm asking you if I can officially be your family. And who knows, maybe one day Ronal, Tonowari, and their kids could be your family."

Spider sucked in a sharp breath of air without realizing it, the soft hiss of his mask filling the marui. His nerves made him want to instinctually laugh it off like she was joking, but he didn't picture Kayla to be the kind of person who joked about such things, especially when he was involved. Replaying her words in his head, he almost believed he imagined it; like it was muffled in the back of his mind because that's what he wanted to hear her say... and yet the words had matched up with her mouth as she spoke... had he imagined it?

There was a small, nasty voice in the back of his head telling him that of course, he imagined it because why in her right mind would Kayla want to be his family? He's nothing but trouble and Kayla was being courted by the leaders of the Metkayina, two respected individuals whose image would surely be ruined by Spider's very presence.

Another small, more kind voice in his head told Spider that Kayla was right and that he deserved to have a family. Sure, it might not be the family he was born into or the family he had wanted practically his whole life, but it could be his, the family he actually needed. He thought of Ao'nung and Tsireya, two Na'vi who had become such unlikely friends... and yet they could be more? Ronal and Tonowari, who have been decent to him, could potentially be more?

Of course, there's also Kayla, the female avatar who looked unsure as she stood before Spider, staring down at him with fear as if she had said the wrong thing. He couldn't possibly hope that this was her intention, and so he swallowed the dryness in his throat before hesitantly replying,

"So... you're not asking if I'm comfortable about this for... other reasons?"

She frowned, "What other reasons?"

"I don't know..." he shrugged and found himself looking away, sheepish to admit it, "I thought you were asking me all this to make sure I would be okay with getting left alone again when you inevitably go to be with them."

He didn't see the way Kayla's eyes briefly widen in horror before she cursed under her breath, crouching down beside him while bravely placing a hand on his shoulder to gain his attention, "Shit, Spider-- I'm sorry. I can see why that looked bad. No, I'm not leaving you alone just because I intend on seeing someone. I take my responsibilities very seriously, thank you very much."

Ah, yes. Responsibilty. That's who he was to Kayla. It was a good reminder for Spider not to get his hopes up, a reminder that Kayla was a parental figure, but she could never be more than that. He didn't dare glance over at the bookshelf where his mother's picture was displayed, not wanting Kayla to misinterpret anything.

"... Okay."

Kayla's eyebrows furrow, trying not to appear hopeful, "Okay?"

He nods, "Okay."

Kayla smiled then, more confidently and unaware of Spider's hidden thoughts, but he smiled back, regardless. She squeezed his shoulder once more before pulling away, humming with a small, playful tone in her voice as she mentioned, "You know, eventually we'll have to move in with them, right? Are you comfortable with that? You know that families usually pile together at night."

Spider's face slowly begins to contort with uncertainty, "... You and I aren't used to that."

"Nope. We're not."

Nervously, he smiles, "Shit. Is that a dealbreaker?"

The laughter Kayla let out was cheerful and full of life. It was also contagious as Spider found himself laughing as well, and despite his doubt, there was a small bit of weight that had to been lifted from his shoulders. Despite being unsure of what the future holds for him... at the very least, there was going to be someone to keep him safe. Whether or not Kayla could be his family she mentioned, there was also the uncertainty of whether or not the clan leaders and their children would think the same. Either way, his acceptance clearly made Kayla happy, and he didn't want to ruin that with his insecurities.

~~~~~~~~~

If there's one thing Jake can confidently say about his sister, it's that if she wants him to know something, she'll tell him.

It was obvious to everyone that Kayla was not afraid to tell Jake whatever she was thinking. She's not afraid to speak her mind to him, no matter how brutal, and while there are times that Jake secretly appreciates it, lately it's been disheartening due to recent... obvious incidents.

So, when Kayla avoided him for two days, Toruk Makto enjoyed the peace and quiet, but Neytiri gave him a knowing expression that told him he wasn't being very true to himself in those moments. He eventually had to admit to himself that the silence was getting to him and he would've preferred his little sister yelling at him than straight up avoiding his presence. He eventually gave in and sought her out on the third day.

He finds his sister in her marui with Spider that morning, rolling up their separate nivi and getting prepared for the day ahead. Jake watches them for a moment, still unsure of how to address them if neither was going to admit they were mother and son, before announcing his presence. Kayla, once laid back and content, ready to face the day, now looked tense and wary at the sound of her brother's voice. Jake tried not to let it bother him, keeping his expression neutral as he offered to assist Kayla with any chores she had.

She agreed, with reluctance, and moved to meet him in the doorway. Jake did his best to keep his face impassive, but he struggled when Kayla walked close enough to the point he could catch a whiff of her scent. It was by no means her own, or the one Jake had affiliated as his sister whenever she was near. It smelled familiar, but it wasn't Kayla's and while it was faint, it was definitely new. It bothered him for a moment as both he and Kayla walked out of the marui together,his brain trying to conjure where he had smelled that particular scent before. While Jake wanted to mention it, he wisely doesn't say a word for many reasons. The whole scent debacle was a Na'vi thing and he could understand if Kayla wasn't entirely comfortable about the concept, and she may not understand it fully herself.

And like before, he knows that if there's something Kayla wants him to know, she'll tell him.

Kayla had asked Jake to help her with a canoe she's been wanting to make for a while now, and so together they conjured up the necessary supplies and started hauling it all back to her pod. She trailed behind Jake, silent for the most part, and the tension in the air was palpable, almost worse than the silent treatment she had been giving her brother for a few days. Jake knew something was right on the tip of her tongue, practically hearing the gears in her head without even needing to see her face as he walked in front of her. It was the same, intense silence he remembered experiencing when she was younger, right before she came out to her brothers. Tommy, ever the nurturing sibling, was worried for Kayla and had gently told her that if there was something she'd like to get off her chest, he and Jake would always hear her out, and no matter what, they would always be there for her.

Jake felt his chest squeeze painfully at the memory, so he was glad to distract himself from it when Kayla's voice suddenly spoke up from behind him,

"Jake."

He continued to walk towards her home as it drew near, ear tilted back in her direction, over his shoulder, "Hm?"

"There's something I got to tell you--"

She paused, and before Jake could ask her to elaborate, a soft thud from behind him gently rattled the woven pathway beneath his feet, followed by the sound of a large splash. Jake frowned and turned back around, only for his sister to no longer be standing there. In her place, was the basket of supplies she had been carrying, the contents spilled across the walkway and even rolling into the water below, the soft plopping sound of small items crashing into the water filling the air while Kayla was nowhere to be seen.

Something heavy falls in Jake's gut, as his ears point up and dance around in alertness. He reacts fast by quickly setting down his items and sprinting to the edge of the path, looking down into the water.

"Kayla!"

He sees a small shadow, quickly growing smaller as it sinks further into the water. It was the only thing that crossed his mind before diving into the sea.

The loud splash followed by Jake's distressed voice calling out to Makayla grabbed Spider's attention and steps out of the kelku, just in time to see the revered Toruk Makto diving straight into the water, abandoning baskets full of spilled supplies all along the pathway in his panicked rush. Spider's heart plummets in the five seconds Jake was underwater, and when the older man had yet to break the surface, Spider found himself running down the woven path toward the spot Jake had jumped from, even if he didn't believe he could be much help to a large, full-sized Na'vi, fearing the worst.

By the time Spider reached the deserted supplies scattered across the walkway, Jake had finally resurfaced, gasping for air while water spilled into his eyes and ears. The former marine struggled to paddle with just one arm back toward the path walk while trying to keep a fully grown female avatar afloat, her closed eyes doing nothing to help the panic begin to eat away at her brother's chest.

Despite being small, Spider scrambled to help Jake lift Kayla's body out of the water, hooking his arms underneath hers and lifting with all his might with a soft grunt. Jake helped by lifting Kayla's legs out of the water, and once she was lying across the pathway on her back, Jake lifted himself out of the water before frantically crawling over to her, gently shoving Spider out of Kayla's space so he could inspect her for injuries.

Nothing visible appeared to be wrong with her, but Kayla's eyes remained closed and when Jake initially dragged her out of the water, he couldn't help but notice how lifeless her body moved. Or, in a sense, didn't move.

"Hey!" Jake practically yelled in her face, his hand beginning to gently pat her cheek, only for the motion to grow into harsher slaps the longer she refused to open her eyes.

The panic that was beginning to rise up to Jake's throat only added to the stern, angry tone in his voice as he yelled at his sister's face, "Heyheyhey, wake up. Kayla!"

"Kayla?" Spider's voice called out, less afraid of sounding panicked while fear was evident behind his mask when directing his attention to Jake, "What's wrong with her?"

"I don't know..." Jake initially replied before pausing his train of thought, a sinking feeling of familiarity washing over him when he started to analyze Kayla's symptoms and recognize the signs. It had been over a decade... but he'd seen this happen before, and the thought scared him.

"Spider, do you have your flashlight?"

Without asking for an explanation, Spider hands him the flashlight he kept in a small pouch of necessities he had tied around his loincloth.

"There we go..." Jake mutters under his breath almost as if trying to soothe and reassure himself, turning on the flashlight before leaning over Kayla's face. He takes his free hand and forces one of her eyelids to peel back, shining the bright light directly into her eye before moving on to the other one.

Her pupils don't move or even dilate, confirming Jake's growing fear, "Shit. She's not in there."

"What?" Spider croaked, suddenly hating the way his eyes felt warm.

"She's not in there," Jake automatically explained, "Something or someone interrupted her link."

Jake tries catching his breath, willing himself to regain a bit of self-control. He didn't want to assume the worst, but at the very least, Kayla wasn't dead, and her avatar didn't appear to be injured. For all he knew, Kayla had simply woken up hundreds of miles away, among their human allies and the Omatikaya. He'll just have to make a call back to High Camp and they can sort out this small situation. Nothing major...

He kept telling himself that as he bent down and lifted Kayla up into his arms, supporting her back and the crook of her legs while trying to maneuver around Spider, "Hang on-- watch out. Let's get her back to my place."

Spider dutifully follows, bounding down the woven path just to be able to catch up to Jake's long strides, the boy's eyes never leaving Kayla's avatar, "What do we do?"

"Let me try and contact Norm."

The walk back to the Sully marui felt like forever, with Jake trying to stamp down his growing anxiety the longer it took to get back. When they finally arrived, Jake and Spider brought Kayla inside only to find themselves alone, with no one else home. Jake gently lays Kayla down and immediately beelines for his long-range radio, gripping the device harshly as he speaks into it,

"Dirty Falcon, Dirty Falcon, do you read me? This is Devil Dog, over."

Jake releases the button and waits, the pod filled with static and silence. Spider kneels down beside Kayla's head, staring at Jake's radio with a rising, fluttering feeling in his chest that makes chills rise across his skin. As he and Jake continued to sit in silence, the lack of response on Norm's end was palpable.

Jake could hear his own heart racing in his ears as he brought the radio to his mouth once more, "Norm, it's Jake. Are you there? Norm?"

Silence.

"Norm? Norm?"

~~~~~~~~~

He wasn't sure how many times he had tried calling High Camp as minutes turned into hours. Whether it was six or seven attempts, Toruk Makto had begun to inspect the radio to ensure it was even working, not wanting to entertain the thought that something might be wrong on the other end of the communication. Each time he spoke into the radio and then stopped to wait for a response, he couldn't help the glances he'd send over to Spider. Each time, as the silence lingered between each call, the teenager's face only fell further and it made Jake's chest feel like lead. By the time the suns were at the highest peak in the sky, the village stirred with whispers about Makayla te Suli's collapse. As people gradually learned what had happened, Jake found his home being bombarded with not only his wife and children as they raced back to the pod but other Na'vi as well, much to his surprise.

Some of his children's friends were also present. Ao'nung and Tsireya were with Lo'ak when they heard about what happened to Kayla and immediately came running back to the marui with him, concern etched on their young faces. Jake watched with confusion as the reef siblings moved like a well-oiled machine. Ao'nung, as if on instinct, knelt down beside Spider, inspecting Kayla's avatar while Tsireya sternly let Lo'ak know that she was going to fetch her parents.

Jake heard this but didn't register the words until the young girl was already heading out the door, and by then it was already too late to stop her. Lo'ak quickly distracted his father from his racing thoughts when he asked what had happened to his aunt. By the time Jake recounted the events, the rest of the Sullys were speeding into the marui and Tsireya had returned with the clan leaders.

Ronal was like a tidal wave as she bounded into the Sullys' home, a fearsome expression in her eyes that would immediately make any normal man flinch had Jake not been exposed to Grace Augustine's own ferocity,

"And why have you brought her back here instead of to me?"

"Because she's not injured and this has nothing to do with spirituality," Jake found himself saying robotically, instinctively falling into the role of Toruk Makto to help him not acknowledge the hidden anxiety deep in his gut, "Makayla's human form must have woken up and that's why she collapsed here. She's... she's no longer possessing this body."

Tonowari hovers over his mate like a protective shadow as she bends down over Kayla's avatar, the olo'eyktan's eyes hardened with determination to find a solution as he addresses Jake, "Is that normal?"

Jake's ears pin back, eyes unfocused for a moment, "No, it's not. This only happens if someone is forced out of their Na'vi body. I've seen it before."

Ronal grabs Kayla's chin to tilt the avatar's head to look up at her, "Makayla? Makayla, can you hear me?"

The formality had puzzled Jake for a moment, staring oddly at the tsahik as she continued to carefully inspect his sister's avatar. Peering over at his wife, he noticed Neytiri looking back at him, waiting patiently with her tail gently swaying behind her, the way she normally looked when she expected him to figure something out. Whatever it was, it would have to wait as Jake shook his head and turned back toward the radio, making contact his first priority.

"Dirty Falcon, Dirty Falcon, do you read me? This is Devil Dog, over." Jake pressed into the radio before letting go of the button, not as enthusiastic for a reply.

"What is happening?" Tonowari questioned.

"I've been trying to reach our human allies with the Omatikaya all afternoon, but so far no one's responding."

"And I take it that is not normal either?"

A shadow falls over Jake's eyes as he glares into the piece of technology in front of him, "No."

"J-- Jake! We have a situation."

A familiar voice suddenly buzzes through the device before being abruptly cut off. The whole room stills as if time had stopped. Jake hadn't noticed he was holding his breath as he stared down at the radio until his lungs burned and his heart squeezed painfully in his chest. With a start, Jake greedily sucks in air as he quickly moves to grab the radio,

"Norm, what's going on?" He harshly demands, "What happened?"

"Lab compromised-- can't--"

The connection cuts off again but Jake doesn't give up, desperate for an answer, "Norm! Come on... Norm, do you copy? Where's Kayla?"

"She... She's gone!"

The air completely sucks out of his lungs, his brain scrambling for a reasonable explanation. He didn't have to look around to know that everyone else would be panicked and concerned as well. Ronal had stood up straight once more, standing near Kayla's feet as her expression reared back with affliction, her eyes darting to Tonowari as they both shared a look of genuine fright. Spider noticed their exchange out of the corner of his eye before looking back down at the body in front of him, his chest feeling tight as the news sunk in, his small hand leaning near Kayla's as if afraid that touching her hand would somehow evaporate her avatar's form. The lightest brush of skin against his elbow let him know that Ao'nung was still right beside him.

Jake could feel the rushing of his heartbeat pulsing loudly in his ears as he absorbed the information. All other rational thoughts jump out the window as he suddenly snaps and growled into the communication device, "What do you mean 'gone?' Norm, what the fuck happened?"

Neytiri didn't even have the heart to chastise her husband for such language in front of the children, her own mind spiraling at all of the possibilities that might have befallen her people, let alone Kayla. Tuk's hand instinctively reaches up to grab her mother's when she feels the older woman's distress, the air stale with tension as all eyes are fixed on the radio.

"I had to force an emergency shutdown on Kayla's link in progress," Norm finally manages to explain without the connection cutting him off, "High Camp had to evacuate because we thought our location might've been compromised. We all scattered and ran to hide and avoid capture, but when we made it to the rendevous she didn't show up-- And... she's not here, Jake. We went back to camp when the coast was clear and Kayla is the only one not accounted for."

That could mean anything, but Jake wasn't ready to make any conclusions until he got the full story, "Who compromised High Camp?"

"Quaritch."

The room felt silent once more, dread swimming in Jake's gut as he closed his eyes and heaved a large, exhausted sigh. One of his ears flicked in the direction he knew Kiri was kneeling down to wrap her arms protectively around Spider without even having to look.

"He had been sighted scouting the Hallelujah Mountains for days prior to this. We thought he might've finally found us so we dispersed."

Jake's head spun with emotions, trying not to let anger get the better of him as he clutched the radio, "Why didn't you call in these sightings to me? I would've come back."

"Because we thought he was after YOU, Jake. If you had come running back, he would've been there, waiting for you."

He took a deep breath, "Do we know for sure Quaritch has Kayla?"

"We're still looking, but... look-- Kayla grabbed a radio before we split up and scattered. There was a tracker, and when we got back, Max tried to access it, but the signal was lost nearly halfway to our rendevous point. If Quaritch snatched her, he could be anywhere by now."

"... So why Kayla? Did he take her to get to me?"

"That's what I thought originally. But Jake-- we don't think he's reporting back to Ardmore anymore."

Norm's words clearly surprise Jake, eyes briefly widening before they return to their normal shape. Unaware of Jake's reaction, Norm's voice continues to come in through the radio, "We've been monitoring RDA radio chatter and there were never any indicators that he never called in a strike against the camp. Ardmore didn't send an army, it was just him. I think he acted alone on this, against Ardmore's orders. Or maybe she doesn't know about it. All I know is he's after something or someone, whether it's you or something else, he knows that Kayla has what he wants."

Jake feels a weight of revelation sink in his stomach, slowly peering over his shoulder, only to find that Spider was already looking back at him. As expected, Kiri was kneeling behind her best friend and her long blue arms encompassed the human teen's shoulders, tightening further when her father's gaze landed on them. Spider doesn't move or even breathe for that matter, the kid's eyes wide with what could only be described as fear.

"I think I know what he's after," Jake muttered back into the radio, his eyes never leaving Spider's, "Let me get back to you with a plan, Norm."

He cuts contact on the radio and rushes to stand up. Kiri, assuming the worst after seeing the look in his eye when he gazed at Spider, speaks up before her father can even say a word, "Dad, you can't leave her! Not like when you left Spider!"

Jake winced, an apologetic expression directed at the boy in question before he straightened his posture, looking around at the room of Na'vi all staring at him expectedly. The weight of Toruk Makto was heavy on his shoulders once more... only this time it felt worse. The fear of failure was worse.

Quaritch likely has Kayla, and the very thought of the Recom holding his sister hostage brought that same, deep-rooted fear he had festered when Quaritch had taken his daughters. The haunted image of Quaritch's knife against Kayla's throat when they were fighting on the ship didn't help that fear. Looking over and meeting Neytiri's eyes, Jake saw that same haunted expression on her face, the look of someone who had lost so many of her loved ones to the colonel. Quaritch was responsible for her father's death, and the lives that were lost when Hometree fell. Quaritch was responsible for Tsu'tey, for Grace, for Trudy... Neteyam... Hell, he might have been the one held responsible for the death of Neytiri's sister, Sylwanin.

Turning back and taking one look at Spider's pleading eyes, Jake was desperate to ensure that Kayla wouldn't be added to Quaritch's growing list.

Jake's expression hardened, hiding away his thoughts while addressing Kiri, "I won't, baby girl. Not this time."

~~~~~~~~~

A/n: In between chapters, I asked for a couple of commissions from the following:

I'd like to thank @sullyfortress for this beautiful masterpiece of Kayla!

And @rocklobster0 for making this cute chibi art of Kayla/Tonowari/Ronal! You guys are amazing individuals and are so gifted😍Thank you so much!

#tsamsiyu ta'em fic #ronal x tonowari x oc #ronal x oc x tonowari #ronal x oc #tonowari x oc x ronal #tonowari x ronal x oc #tonowari x oc #tonowari x ronal #ronal x tonowari #atwow fic #atwow fics #atwow fanfic #atwow fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #atwow #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #james cameron avatar

160 notes · View notes

lizzaneia-elizalde · 6 months

Note

listening to 'jealous girl' then i realized, another damon req maybe where darlings the one who gets jealous⁉️⁉️

So darling continued their reward system, improving his grades and *also* deepening their situationship relationship they had. Suddenly Damon often texted darling that he wouldn't make it to their study sessions because of training/practice for sm major sports event. Darling was all g w it for a few weeks, taking a break but somehow feeling like smth is missing ykykykykykykyk

so when darling was walking around campus, they saw Damon w a cheerleader whose feelings for Damon were clear¹⁰ and where cheerlesder absolutely despised darling since most students thought darling and damon were a thing due to what happened when it was darlings science quiz bee thing

Everyone knew abt cheerleaders adamant feelings for damon. Cheerleaders clearly getting very buddy buddy with Damon

Sooo darling had their heart ache a bit </3

Yandere! Jock x Honor student! fem! reader Part 2

OOOH will you look at that! Part two of the fic! Decided to make this the part two of Damon's story since the premise is the perfect set up.

TW: bullying

You were quite furious.

Damon has missed another one of your study sessions.

Sure, he's improving (due to the reward system, no less), but he still can't confidently say he already got it down to a pat.

You walked through the busy college campus, saying hi to your new found friends and bowing to professors.

Maybe he's not the only one who got influenced by the other.

You told yourself to calm down. But seriously, the exams are coming up and this is an important one for Damon since it can indicate his stay at his main sports team.

You swore to yourself that you'll help him since your Dean finally gave you an incentive, which is a summer job in a reading camp. That will be placed in your portfolio, and list of credits when graduation rolls over.

Definitely not from the intrinsic want to actually help Damon, definitely not.

Okay, maybe you actually wanted to help Damon.

He's been really sweet, despite the initial dumbness rattling your brain.

Ever since the reward system, he's been improving rapidly in an almost terrifying degree. It's suspicious, but you brushed it off. Especially since this guy is actually quite the genius if he uses his common sense.

That, and those days with him, studying with hushed whispers, salacious touches, and flirty gazes before the inevitable lust filled rewards were satisfying you to the bone.

It's lonely without him and his boisterous personality.

Especially he's been there with you ever since one of your closest friends, Jupiter, died months prior, not knowing Damon was the one who ended him.

In reality, Damon was taking advantage of your grieving state from your friend, consoling you and cheering you up, while feeding your brain of his facade of being this dumb yet adorkable guy. And it worked.

Here you are, walking towards the outside basketball court to sit down on their bleachers, lunch in hand.

You placed down a handkerchief on one of the bleachers and sat down. With your simple sandwich in your palm, you took a bite and gazed towards the rugby field which is on the other side of the road.

Your eyes lightened when you saw Damon, running through the field as the quarterback with the rugby ball in his hand.

You gently chewed on your food, gaze softening as he hoot and hollered with his teammates, looking so happy as he's in his element in the field. With his beloved sports, and his beloved teammates.

It was quite amazing how different he looks from studying with a focused frown on his face, to this annoying smirk he has as he scores touchdown after touchdown.

You decided to step down the bleachers and approach the bench. His rugby teammates recognized you and waved with a grin, inviting you to sit down. Normally, you would shyly decline, but this time you said thank you graciously and sat down beside them. Cheering along.

Your anger with him faded slowly, and was about to approach him to ask about the next study session when a woman bumped you away.

This woman, in her cheering uniform, scoffed when she finally caught a glimpse of you.

"Skank, out of the way." She insulted, which made you gasp. Skank? What?

It made you freeze, and you only got to watch her as she sticked to Damon, wiping his sweat and hugging his arm. It made your skin crawl, a pit on your stomach.

"Sorry, y/n." One of the benched members said, eyeing the girl warily. "She likes Damon, a lot. And is actually quite hostile about you."

"Hostile about me?" You asked, bewildered. "But why? I didn't do anything."

"You say, but everyone knows you and Damon are a thing." He whispered. "Don't worry, she's not gonna be that annoying. Everyone knows Damon is heads over heels on you."

"Oh..." You flushed red before your eyes gazed to Damon once more, who is chuckling as the girl cooed and pouted.

'You say that, but he hasn't seen me at all...' You thought, eyes watering before bowing and going away, defeated.

Ever since then, you stopped pestering him about the study sessions.

You only sent him PDFs about new topics, but that's it. No more.

You also ignored most of his texts, yet there was only seldom of them too.

You can feel the gap between you widen, and widen... And widen.

The cheerleader continued to rub it in your face too, everywhere Damon went, she went. Feeding him, like the slimy, little, two-faced, bitchy, mistress she is--!

You calmed down suddenly, shame creeping your neck from thinking those things.

"Calm down, this isn't you." You told yourself, gripping your pen tightly. You looked down at your phone and sighed. With Damon gone, you realized that sure, you had friends, but you don't really have a best friend after Jupiter died. And now, looking at Jupiter's photo as his 7th monthsary death is coming, you felt lonelier than ever.

It was almost childish how Venus, the cheerleader, kept bad mouthing you. Saying that YOU were the one who got between them, YOU were the one who went away, YOU were the one who was finding another guy.

Painting you to be the bad person.

Sure, not a lot of people believed her, but those who do are very vocal about it. Claiming that you were a whore who was spreading your legs despite being a nerd.

This is one of the rare times when you wish the ground swallowed you whole. You were already in college for gods' sake! And they were talking and bullying like this is some highschool drama. It's so shameful!

And you found yourself seeking Damon, who's in the heart of the problem. But he's not saying anything about it. Only focusing on his sports. You heard he's on his way to be a guaranteed part of the national team, so he's really busy.

You asked his teammates too if he's aware of the rumors, he shakes his head apparently, before asking if it's important. Sure, they only asked if he knew about this rumor about you, but other than that, they didn't elaborate on it in respect to you.

You were honestly about to snap from how Venus is being too mean to you. She can have him! Just leave you alone.

But noooo she wants to make your life a living hell like the bitch she is.

With no other choice, you sent a long text to Damon.

Anger fueled, but you know this is the only way he'll wake up from being too oblivious and slap him from reality.

Your hands shook as you raked your fingers through your hair, before hitting the block button finally on him. You're moving on from this guy. You don't give a shit anymore.

But, you only heard by next day that Venus...

"Venus transferred schools? What happened? Oh my god..."

You felt wonder. But you cannot deny that a teenie, weenie sick sense of satisfaction settled inside of you like a guilty sinner.

The day Damon received the text.

Damon was about to keel over.

He wants to see you so bad. Hug you, kiss you, touch you, fuck you...

He's so deprived of your presence that even glimpses of your hair was enough to set him off.

But he stopped himself. After the coach threatened him to scrape him off from the national team recommendation.

Sure, his grades are improving, but he's been neglecting his sports. With a triple "s".

He wants to choke his past self from taking up so many sports teams. Now he can't even see you until the recommendation tournament.

You've stopped pestering him, and he bit his lip. You never even went to find him. What's worse, is that he can't find you or else the coach will chew him out. Even the Dean was in on it too like she wasn't the one who recommended you to him.

He swore to himself that once the tournament is of, he'll crawl back in your arms and spoil you greatly. He can't have anyone getting too close to you after Jupiter. And from his informants, you've only been by yourself other than your friends. This satisfied him greatly too.

But now, it's been weeks since then, and he just wants to lash out on everyone and kidnap you to satisfy his needs, wants, and love.

Then, that unique message ping came. One that he knew that it was from you. So he opened his phone with a grin, but faltered when he saw the content.

Hey, Damon. It's been a while.

I know you don't care about me anymore, and that's fine. We were only like... A situation. Friends, if we're even friends, with benefits. I tutored you, and you taught me other stuff or whatever. Now, we drifted off, and it's fair that you won't care about me anymore. But please! REEL IN YOUR GIRLFRIEND! We've never met for months already and she's still fucking harassing the shit out of me! We're already done, what can she not understand about that?!

Anyways, please. Tell her to fuck off or this will reach her Dean's ears.

Girlfriend? He doesn't have a girlfriend. You were his partner, right? He thought you knew that. But girlfriend? Who?

He looked up dread feeling him as that pit settled his stomach. No. No way.

His eyes found Venus, who's running towards him with a smile again. One that he wants to wipe that goddamn mug off of the face of the earth.

Did this bitch do something to you?

He's been so out of touch lately due to training and training and training. And this clingy woman was someone he wanted to get rid off.

What you didn't see is his forced smiles, the simple shrug offs, the polite No's... But this Venus girl can't take no for an answer until he just accepts it with chills crawling on his back.

He can't exactly be rude and say what he's actually feeling after all. He's supposed to be this dumb fucking himbo who don't know social cues at all.

Oh, but he knows. He knows that this woman wants to be with him. To be his girlfriend, to make him hers. But good grief Damon wants to barf from being touched by her. It felt so wrong being touched by someone who's not you.

"Hey guys." Damon jogged towards his teammates who flinched and looked away. "... What's with you know... y/n?"

They all avoided his gaze before one finally spoke up.

"Finally giving her attention? Bastard?"

Damon was bewildered. Bastard? What?

"Did you know that your childish girlfriend over there has been harassing y/n for weeks?" He growled out, annoyed. "Oh of course you don't know. You always don't know. You're too clueless of everything!"

That was his persona! But this time he's actually clueless.

"Can you just tell me, please. What did Venus do?" Damon desperately said, his heartbeat going haywire.

"Bullying, spreading misinformation, pushing hate on her. The drill. I don't want to say this in respect for y/n, but you are the center of the problem and must know about it. We're hitting showers. See ya." He, muttered, before rolling his eyes and walking away with the other teammates.

Damon went cold once more and ran around the campus and the whole University, asking what's happening and how far this harassment went.

Everyone was surprised by his reactions. They thought he didn't care. But now he's here running rampant in such desperation. So they told him what happened.

Rumor, after rumor, bullying after bullying... It all stacked on Damon's mind that he almost gasped from the weight of it all. It didn't even stay in their college only, but it spread the whole Uni.

"Oh god..." Damon whispered, a pit on his stomach now ablazed with anger, fury, and wrath.

It was so late. He was so late. But he'd rather die than to leave this to fate.

So he found himself, hauling Venus' asleep body up to an upright board in his basement. After inviting Venus to a drink, she foolishly thought they'll spend the night together tangled in bed, but now, he's waiting for her to wake up as he sharpened his tools. His heart bled for you, and now Venus will pay the prize.

No, he will not kill her. That's too merciful.

He'll make her suffer as much as possible.

"Holy shit... Y/n! Look!"

"What? I'm busy studying here."

"No I swear, you want to see this!"

You sighed and went to the window. Surprised to see that a lot of students are by the window looking down. So you went there and gasped in bewilderment.

"Y/N! PLEASE!"

Damon was there, holding a microphone and looking to your dorm room. He has bags upon bags of gifts by his feet and his teammates spelling out "i'm sorry" with placards.

"I AM SO SORRY! VENUS MEANT NOTHING TO ME! SHE WAS ONLY LIKE THIS CLINGY LEECH THAT I CANNOT SHAKE OFF!"

Damon was so desperate, his hands shaking as he tried to fight off tears from his eyes.

"YOU CAN DO WHATEVER YOU WANT WITH ME! SLAP ME, PUNCH ME! I CAN TAKE IT JUST PLEASE TAKE ME BACK!"

He heaved a sob tears spilling. He doesn't give a fuck about the nationals anymore.

"I WILL COURT YOU EVERYDAY UNTIL WE GOT BACK TOGETHER!" He promised, his voice suddenly turning almost childish as he hiccuped while talking because of how hard he's crying right now. "And-and I'll apologize... *hic* everyday... *hic* and i'll kneel and serve you... *hic*..."

Everyone was cooing, feeling pity for him. But knew it's up to you to forgive him since it's not their place to do so.

You sighed and got down to his side, looking at his face before standing and giving a peck on his cheek.

"Now stop crying, you're embarasing me." You whispered. "Maybe not now that I can forgive you, but i'll let you court me."

He stopped, eyes widening before finally letting the dam flow and crying loudly like a little kid.

"DARLING!" He wailed, hugging you tight. "I AM SO SORRYYYYYY!"

You gave a small smile, not minding the slightly ironic smell from him as he clutched you close to his body.

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

109 notes · View notes

lady-of-tearshed · 6 months

Text

Yours

Summary: Lucien is taking you on a surprise picnic date to ask you the biggest question of your life...

Word count: I don't know. 😅

Warnings: Mention of sexual arousal.

Inspired by this song: I'm Yours, by Jason Mraz

You had been there for hours, Morrigan insisting on the fact your nails were in cruciate need for a manicure. She wasn’t wrong. It had indeed been years since you last had your nails done. You had kept them short since the day you and Lucien had started to build your home, settling in the Autumn Court since Eris' coronation. Your brother-in-law had given you and Lucien this beautiful part of his lands as a mating gift a few years ago. But now that the house had been officially finished a few months ago, Morrigan took responsibility for the health and beauty of your nails. She had been filing and shaping your nails extensions for almost an hour now. You didn’t recall that this part of a manicure took so long to do. You sigh and look at the clock, Morrigan looking up at the clock too. You raise your brow at the blondie, which she only answers with a shake of her head and a wry smile, going back to doing your nails. It almost looked as if she was trying to win time. Your best friend was acting quite suspicious today… In fact, everyone looked suspicious today and acted weird around you.

You silently tried to figure out what could be the reason for everyone's sudden nervousness and excitement towards you today. It wasn’t your birthday… nor you and Lucien’s mating bond anniversary… Your bleeding wasn’t coming up soon… No. Nothing you thought of made sense about their sudden change in attitude. Morrigan, having nothing left to file anymore, risked starting to coat your nails, giving you various nail polish options, making sure to make you take your time picking up the one you wanted.

—----

“V, I swear I hid it in this cupboard.” Lucien hissed as he rummaged into his friends cupboard, Vassa looking frantically too, nervousness radiating from the two redheads as Jurian was just snickering like a coward on the pink couch. He leaned into the couch and lifted his feet to rest on the coffee table, halting at the Mortal Queen’s warning growl. He raised his hands, trying to look innocent, and pulled his feet off the table. “Y'know Lu, we did lots of things against that exact cupboard…” Vassa lifted a finger at his mate, keeping from the urge to jump at his throat and strangle him, and kept looking everywhere around the kitchen. Lucien was too nervous to process any stupidity his friend was blabbing. This couldn’t be happening… He couldn’t have possibly lost the fucking ring...

Lucien had bought this ring months ago on one of his trips to visit his father in Summer Court. He had met and talked with a jeweler there, an old, respectable man. The man had retired from his job a few years ago, but when he heard the new Heir of Summer talking about his love towards his mate, and how he was looking for the most perfect ring to ask for her hand… The man had agreed to make him something, he had asked Lucien to draw what he wanted, and take the dimensions for the ring. The results had left Lucien in utter daze, and he had paid the man triple the rings’ worth. He would’ve paid him even more if it hadn’t been for the man stopping him, insisting it was already more than enough for him.

And now he fucking regretted hiding the ring in his friends mansion, which had once been house, actually. He had made the decision to hide the ring here because he knew how curious his little flame was. His precious mate would’ve probably found the velvet bow if he had hid it in their house, and her curiosity would’ve made the rest to ruin the surprise, as usual. Jurian squirmed and tossed on the couch. It felt as if the couch had been filled in with needles. He scratched his bottom as Lucien and Vassa were still turning the kitchen upside down in search of the box containing the matching rings. Jurian sighed and lifted from the couch, scratching his bottom to rub away the pain on his buttcheek… oh. He patted the bulge on his back pocket and pulled out the velvet box… The two redheads' eyes were now staring at Jurian, Lucien's chin falling to the ground, and Vassa’s face going as red as her hair. Sweat was running down her forehead, Lucien taking the ring box out of Jurian’s hands, knowing Vassa was near ready to attack her mate.

Jurian stuttered, backing up as Vassa walked slowly, a predator tracking its prey. Jurian fell back down onto the couch, lifting his hands up, his eyes wide in fear as he tried desperately to explain. Lucien and Vassa had been searching everywhere and panicking while he was laying on that stupid couch, the rings tucked in his fucking pocket. “I-I forgot I had put it here okay?! I had wanted to walk to his house to give him today so he could have more time to prepare! I didn’t think! I forgot- VASSA!! MY LOVE!!” Jurian screamed as Vassa jumped at his throat, shaking the poor man’s shoulder, her teeth snapping at him, missing him by not much a few times. “DO NOT MARRY YOUR WOMAN LU!! THEY TURN CRAZY!” Jurian screamed from the pink couch, holding out his hand to him as if he could do anything to stop the Mortal Queen’s rage. “YOU’RE THE ONE MAKING EVERYONE GO NUTS!!” Vassa countered, her voice echoing through the halls as Lucien quickly made his way out, smirking. He would make sure to thank his friends about safely hiding the rings, later though. For now, his only plan consisted on exiting their mansion quickly before Vassa’s rage towards Jurian turned to lust, and she starts fucking her annoying mate right on that couch.

—--

Tug, tug.

You had been trying to pull onto the bond for the past hour now, as Morrigan kept adding up some details on your nails, to make sure they were perfect, she said. You were starting to get quite suspicious, your friend was clearly trying to buy sometime to cover someone… Lucien, you guessed, since your mate had tightly shut his side of the bond since he dropped you off at the River House. You looked over your best friend, grinning. She caught your glimpse and chuckled nervously, her cheeks slightly turning pink as she kept glancing towards the clock. “What?” “Do not ‘what?’ me, Morrigan. You and I both know you are hiding something from me… You know something I don’t, so does everyone else in this house. Does it have something to do with Lu-”

“Long day, huh?” You said as you crossed your arms on your chest, trying to look pissed that your mate had shut down his side of the bond all morning. He walked casually towards you, his steps slow, making your heart flutter at the sight of his rolled up sleeves, hands tucked in his trouser pockets. He grinned, huffing a silent chuckle, his eyes sparkling with mischief, stopping toe-to-toe from you. You lift your chin, crossing your arms tighter around your chest, and his eyes lowered to them, as that annoyed gesture of yours only served to lift the ladies up and tease his arousal. “I missed you too, my flame.” He purred, his lips slowly lowering to your raised jaw, brushing a soft kiss alongst it. He pulled his head back slowly, tracing your chin with his fingers, his eyes boring into yours. “I’m sorry for shutting you up this morning, I wanted to surprise you with something.”

The living room door creaked as Lucien peered inside, a charming smile on his lips. Morrigan quickly stands up and pat my hands. “Done! They’re perfect. I have somewhere to go with Az now." Morrigan quickly dismisses herself, walking towards the Shadow Singer. Your head spin towards the armchair in the far right corner of the room, surprised to notice the winged male presence. Had he been there the whole time? Who knows... Azriel was always unnoticed. “Yeah.” He quietly answers before offering his arm to Mor, as she trotted beside him towards the exit, clinging to his arm. She blew you a kiss and winked at Lucien before exiting the living room, leaving you and your mate alone.

Your mood immediately switched to a cheerful one at the word ‘surprise’. Your eyes lit up and you kissed his lips, your arms wrapping around his neck as he picked you up bridal style. “What kind of surprise?” You beamed, your nose nuzzling into his neck as he walked you out of the River House before settling the both of you up on his bay mare. “A picnic. It’s been a while, eh?” He snickered, making sure you were comfortably settled. He ties his long hair in a bun, so the wind doesn't shove them in front of his eyes, and places a hand on your hip, clicking his tongue at the mare to make her trot.

You walk through the trees, the weather getting comfortably cooler as you pass the Autumn Court frontiers, the decor changing into the most stunning shades of red, yellow, brown, and orange. You snuggle closer to your mate’s chest, and he pulls a soft gray flannel sheet out of his saddle bag, wrapping it around the two of you. The sound of a river echoes as you keep walking through the trees. When you finally reach the river band, his hips shift as he voices a command to make the horse halt. He gets down first, then picks you up into his arms, carefully placing you down on your feet. He kisses your cheek, then unpack his mare from the bags he packed for your picnic, made her drink from the river, then tied her up to the nearest tree, leaving the rope loose enough for her to eat the grass on the ground. He respectfully pats his equine friend, then walks up to you, helping you settle everything he packed for the picnic.

—

You sigh, placing a manicure hand on your full stomach, and lay your head against your mate's shoulder. He opens a jar of blueberry jam, which you hadn't noticed until now, and spreads it onto a home-baked bread. He takes a bite, then moves the slice in front of your lips, a silent offer. You chuckle, greedily taking a bite of the sweet treat, and hum in delight. “Who made it? The jam.” You ask, impressed by the delightful flavor and texture of the jam. You had never tasted something so delicious before. “Mum made it.” Lucien answers, still munching his bite of bread. He swipes his thumb on the corner of your lips, wiping away some jam. You catch his wrist, bringing his thumb back up to your mouth before he wipes it on the picnic sheet and lick it clean, no spot of jam left. Lucien blushes madly, thinking about all of the other places this tongue of yours had licked clean… “It would've been a shame to waste any of it now, wouldn't it?” You tease him, earning a grunt of annoyance vibrating from his throat.

—

The afternoon goes by quickly, Lucien had brought canvas and some brushes and paints for the two of you to create. The rule, as always, was to paint something, without the other seeing, then making the other one guess what you painted with the help of clues before the painting is revealed. Lucien had finished his a while ago, bugging you with kisses all over your left hand, arm, and shoulder, making you all flustered and annoyed, always accusing him of trying to peek at your ‘masterpiece’.

“Done!” You finally chirp through the burble of the river. You shove his face away playfully, then stand up, clearing your throat dramatically. He crosses his legs, staring up at you, then speaks up. “Alright… Did you paint… an animal?” Lucien asks, already knowing the answer. You always drew the same thing, Cameron, his loyal bay mare. Y/N bites her lip, hiding her grin, then nods. “Alright…” He sighs, rolling his eyes playfully, looking towards the mare, still munching on the grass beside the tree. “Did you paint… Cameron?” Y/N pouts, then plops back down beside his mate. She leans her head on his thick thighs, twirling a strand of her hair between her fingers before complaining. “It’s not fair, you always guess.” Lucien leans down, kissing her lips gently, slowly, not wanting to argue back that it was because she always painted the same damn thing. Every. Single. Time.

When she breaks the kiss, she gently pat Lucien’s chest. “Alright now, my turn to guess, you painted me.” Lucien laughs, his head thrown back, earning a giggle from Y/N’s too. He picks up his canva, staring at it, then tilts his head to the side. “Yeah… kind of.” “Kind of?” She raises a brow, reaching her hand to the canva, trying to look at it. Lucien raises it up, out of her reach, tutting at her. She groaned and plopped her head back onto his lap, rolling her eyes. Lucien could almost hear her thinking about what he could've painted. Her cheeks turned red. “You didn’t paint me naked, did you?” Lucien’s laughter roared again, Y/N’s head bouncing slightly on his lap as his body shook from his laugh. He shook his head in denial, then spoke up once his laughter calmed down. “No… But I’m keeping this idea in mind for our next picnic date…” He winked, then smiled as she got back to her guessing. “Do you throw in the towel?”

Y/N nods, yawning and stretching up her arms, sitting up. “Yeah…” She mumbles, Lucien handing her his canva. His heart was thumping inside of his chest right now, as he slowly pulled the velvet box out of his pocket. “I painted your hands…” Lucien said slowly, discreetly getting on one knee as your back was facing him. You stared at the canva, noticing that a ring was beautifully settled onto your left ring finger. You spun around, your brows furrowed in confusion, you were about to ask about it but the sight of Lucien kneeling right in front of you, a pair of golden, stunning rings shining in a burgundy velvet box caught you off guard. You open your mouth to speak, tears of joy streaming down your cheeks already, but he puts a finger on your lips. “Wait. I… I still want to make my little speech first…” He chuckles nervously, and you nod, desperately trying to wipe the tears out of your eyes, giggling through sobs.

“Now… Miss Y/N L/N…” “Miss Vanserra.” You cut him off, making him giggle. “I didn’t even…” “I accept, I want you, all of you, Lucien Vanserra. I want the rest of my life with you, and my answer is yes, I’ll marry you!” You jump into his arms, kissing him passionately, your tongues caressing each other. His hand slowly brushes against your cheek, his eyes meeting yours as your lips part. “I was supposed to make this speech…” He teases, sitting up the both of you and bringing your hand to his soft lips, kissing it gently. “I know, I found it in your nightstand while cleaning last week…” You chuckle awkwardly, making him blush, He mentally hated himself for it… he thought about hiding the rings, but not his fucking speech… Idiot male he was… He shakes his hand but chuckles nonetheless, impressed at how sneaky his future wife was… He slid the ring onto her finger, her doing the same with the matching band he had bought. “Sneaky little flame… I love you, Y/N Vanserra, even though you always figure out my surprises.” She giggles, kissing his lips again. Oh little did he know now he was bound to never be able to make surprises again… Unless he greatly improves his skill at making surprises.

#Spotify #acotar #fiction #acosaf #fluff #x reader #lucien x y/n #lucien vanserra #lucien x reader #lucien x you #lucien acotar #lucien vandaddy

102 notes · View notes

arthropodrespecter · 7 months

Text

2013 vs 2024

tbh, this is incredibly difficult for me. as a trans woman, there are certain expectations for posts like these. some gruff but sad looking man who was transformed into a happy beautiful girl via hormones. so you might think that nothing has changed. or perhaps i have gone backwards, gotten hairier, bigger, becoming even more of a man than i started off as.

this might be hard to read, so i'll put the rest under a read more. CW for homelessness, starvation, transmisogyny, and probably a few things i'm missing.

my transition has been messy. in some ways, you might say that i spent the first 25 years of my life transitioning. as a child i was efemminate, loved to play dress up and dolls, but my father was so against this that he filed a lawsuit against my mother, getting a court order forbidding her from "forcing me to crossdress." this set the tone for the rest of my childhood, which is a story i will not get into here because it is much worse than the story i'm trying to tell.

growing up in a christian fundamentalist home meant that it wasn't until much later, after my mother gained custody and i had gone on to experience even further ruination of my life, that i even learned that trans people exist. that this was a thing you could do, could be. a brief flash, something hiding behind my eyes, and i had locked it away. of course i wasn't trans. i was an athlete, a martial artist, a musician, why would i need to think about gender?

when i was 16, i joined tumblr. i saw a blooming transgender community, got to see the inner thoughts and conversations that trans people were having, couldn't avoid certain things any longer. i started to identify as nonbinary, eventually even coming out to my mother, who certainly TRIED to be supportive. it was exciting, made my heart race a little, made me scared. i had no idea what i was doing, or how my world was about to turn upside down and inside out.

the summer i turned 18, i was severely injured in a martial arts tournament. my right knee had caved in, the bone at the site of the joint crushed by a man i had thought was my friend. i didn't realize what had happened, and so didn't go to a doctor until two weeks later, at which point the damage was considered irreversible. everything i was disappeared. i lost all will to live. i stopped drawing, stopped playing music. i started drinking heavily. my family knew i was struggling but any efforts to fix the situation just made it worse. my mother and older brother had been putting more and more pressure on me to get a job and get out of the house, even though i could barely walk. my older brother told me that my mother was going to kick me out if i couldn't start contibuting. i still couldn't. i became homeless for the first time at the age of 19.

when you're homeless, it's like every single day is drawn out into countless hours, and you either have nothing to do, or far too much to do, and nothing in between. i had an online partner at the time, someone who turned out to be a chaser targeting suspiciously egg shaped men and nonbinary people, who spent the entire time getting more and more frustrated that i didn't have the time to be a fucktoy. i ended up insitutionalized for a month, after which i was kicked to the curb and left with nothing but a backpack and the clothes on my back. any journey of self discovery i may have been having was on hold until i wasn't fighting for survival.

my rescue came from a nonbinary lesbian who reached out to me. i was offered a room, a place to stay for no cost. they helped me break up with my partner. i found myself in a new sort of situationship, but at a confusing cost. why was this lesbian interested in me? was that even okay? eventually we had a conversation. they revealed to me that they had thought i was a trans woman. the fact that i had been seen as a woman hit me like a truck in a blindzone i didn't know i had.

after a difficult few days of arguing with myself, i couldn't hide from it. i was a woman. maybe i had always been a woman. a thought more terrifying than it had any right to be.

i grew my hair out. i started shaving. after a few months, i was even able to book my first HRT appointment (thank you state of washington trans healthcare laws). i came out to my mother a second time, and her reaction was much different this time. maybe due to the distance that had grown between us, the past hostility that left scars still bleeding, but i suspect it was because telling her that her firstborn son was actually a woman was much scarier to her than telling her that i didn't really care about gender.

this photo is from the day that i had my first HRT appointment. my soft chin, once a weakness, could be bared proudly, the ambiguity in my face becoming something that i cherished.

a year later, i had the longest hair of my life. if i shaved and wore makeup, and dressed right, i could get gendered correctly so long as i didn't speak. in that regard, i was truly getting the full experience of womanhood. my relationship with my partner was going strong. i thought that i had found my forever.

things got messy. you will probably hear me say this again. you won't find many better ways to describe my life, other than messy. my partner had always been polyamorous, but i was not, and had not ever pretended that this was not the case. so when one of my partners friends confessed her love to them, they went into panic mode. suddenly they were pushing everyone away, reverting to old bad habits and anxieties, and our relationship began to fall apart.

the friend, we'll call her A, pretended to move on, started dating someone else. my own friendship with A was strained by the situation, and her new partner, a butch lesbian named rowan, seemed to be suffering for it. i realized that the only way our relationships could survive was if we tried to work out an agreement to polyamory. in the end that wasn't enough, but i was desperate. i was starting to see the cracks, realizing that if this fell apart, i would be homeless again. my leg injury had already been so badly worsened from my first experience with homelessness, i knew that going through it again would be the end of me.

since my partner and A were now seeing each other, i began to get ignored. the only time either of them spent talking to me was talking about each other, either joyous or trying to fix some new problem. at this point, i started getting to know rowan. we had a lot in common, i had never talked to a butch before, let alone known one, and seeing the way that they navigated gender made me jealous. i didn't know why.

more and more, rowan and i were separated from the broader relationship, and as we talked more, something developed. i had already felt it the first time we spoke, on some level, but it had grown and grown, from respect, to admiration, to desire and love. we were in a polyamorous relationship after all, so it made sense to me. but shortly after, when i told my partner what i was feeling, they freaked out. this wasn't the agreement, they had only agreed to them being able to date other people, didn't think that it would need to be specified because i wasn't polyamorous.

the entire relationship falls apart and we go back to being two separate couples, and the end of that came swiftly after. they cheated on me with A, and when i found out, that was it. my now ex partner told me that i could stay at the apartment until the lease ran out, and they would move back in with their parents. they took all the furniture, i was left with an ancient computer, a blanket, some clothes, and two pillows. my depression came back with a vengeance, and i stopped eating. by the time the lease ran out, i had lost a dangerous amount of weight. i became homeless for the second time at age 22.

this time, after only six months, i found a thin sliver of hope. i was given a place to stay. a single-wide trailer that i would share with three other trans women and a hairy nonbinary lesbian. you've probably heard the stories of similar situations. it's impossible to have healthy boundaries in a space the size of a can of sardines. or healthy anything really. i got involved in an incredibly toxic relationship with one of the other trans women, who i found out was dating nearly a dozen other people.

the only thing i could do was try to feel wanted. desired. i began experimenting with my image.

i re-established contact with rowan, but there was so much there that i couldn't bring myself to face yet. as i began to experiment with more masculine presentation, those around me took a greater interest in me. i was an object of desire. it was the most worth i had felt i ever had.

i wasn't eating again. so my weight kept dropping. in the three-odd years since my first encounter with homelessness, i had lost 30% of my entire bodyweight. this only made my physical issues get worse and worse.

i wasn't done with experimentation though. what could i do with this newfound territory?

the time came. i couldn't stay anymore. the relationship had fallen apart, and my connection to the household had been sent away in exile. the irony of this is not lost on me. i was lucky enough to be able to couch surf for a few months this time.

i lost weight again.

and again.

my knee got worse and worse. my iliotibial band tore. my birthday came and went, nobody celebrated except for rowan, now my only friend.

a week after my birthday, a lesbian couple contacted me. told me that they had a spare bedroom, and that if i could cover the costs of my own food, could stay for as long as i liked.

i started HRT again. rowan and i had managed to work through all the shit and scum of our past and started a relationship anew. it felt like this could be real.

i started to look a lot like my mom. kind of uncomfortably like my mom. rowan was butch, so i had thought i should be a femme. i didn't understand what that meant, but whatever it was i attempted, it wavered dramatically.

i began to switch, every month or so, between masculine and feminine presentation. my chest had grown enough that it was visible now, and i experienced an equal amount of joy and fear when i was gendered correctly in public, having learned to fear people finding out that i was a trans woman.

the weight didn't come back. it was like my body had burned itself so far down that it could not regrow. i had no energy, and my physical condition continued to deteriorate. but i was allowed to be myself. and i was in love with a butch. maybe that would be enough.

i began to develop a fashion sense of my own. the butch label was starting to appeal to me. and my roommates seemed to agree, since they both shifted towards butchness and masculinity alongside me. but it wasn't to last. one of my roommates, a TME lesbian i'm gonna call M, suddenly went off on a transmisogynistic rant to me. M's partner was a trans woman, and hearing this caused me to suddenly re-evaluate everything. did this happen because M viewed me as more masculine now, a more acceptable target? would this happen to G, M's partner?

i hardcore shifted gears back to feminine presentation. it felt safer. i stopped eating again. things weren't okay, but they were bearable this way. but then, one day, we got locked out of our apartment. a stupid, played out thing that happens to everyone at least once. while my roommate G went to see if the apartment manager was in with a spare key, i attempted to climb our balcony and get in through the unlocked back door. when i was up on the railing of our balcony, it gave way, and i fell to the asphalt below, breaking my back. following a trend that i set half a decade ago, i didn't realize it had happened. my back hurt, but i thought it would go away. it did, replaced by a vast numbness through the middle of my back. i began to collapse any time i tried to exhert myself physically at all. i would only find out why years later. the fact that i couldn't contribute to chores anymore, and nobody knew why, made the situation with M deteriorate much faster.

at my lowest point in years. my relationship with rowan was the only thing that kept me from giving up, but after the third time M decided to spew vileness at me i just spent months locked away in my room, terrified that any time i saw M was going to be another lecture about how i was disrespectful, loud, obtrusive, intimidating, too quiet, too lazy, whatever incoherent train of thought i would have to face next.

it was too much to handle in combination with the events of 2020, the lockdowns, the illness, the forest fires, things ended up coming to a head. at age 25, i became homeless for the third time, during the pandemic and a wildfire that filled the air with plastic fumes so thick you couldn't see ten feet in front of you.

i got in contact with my mother and had her take my cat, because i knew i couldn't take care of her like this. that was the last time i saw my cat in person before she died. rowan was frantically trying anything and everything possible to help me. i thought that this might be the end.

three and a half years ago today i got the best news of my life. there was a way out. it would be a long and tricky road, involving moving my whole life to a new country. but we could do it. not only could we do it, but we actually did it. in a months time, i was in rowan's arms. for the first time in our years of knowing each other, there was nothing keeping us apart any longer.

i was finally able to rest. able to eat. i started to regain weight for the first time in nearly a decade. i felt my energy come back, slowly at first, and then more and more until i was capable of functioning, even if at a low level. it's around then that i find out the truth of what happened to my back. it still hasn't properly healed.

in my gratefullness for life and love, i briefly forgot my identity crisis. i was happy to just exist without fear and pain. it wasn't until about a year ago, when a miracle occurred, that this changed.

i woke up one morning, feeling more energetic than usual. i think to myself, maybe i can do some light exercise, for old times sake.

my knee doesn't hurt.

MY KNEE DOESN'T HURT.

a wound that i thought would dictate my life forever, given actual time to rest and food to fuel the process, had healed. everything that i had ever given up on came rushing back into my head, ideas about who i could be, what i could become, what other injuries i might be able to recover from if i treat them right and rebuild myself. ten months ago i began to work out consistently. my back is slowly healing. i am stronger than i ever was before.

i have had to rebuild myself so many times. did i ever discover the secret of butchness in the process? no, that's something that i think will take the rest of my life. for now, my butchness is an enduring pillar, the only part of myself that never fully burnt away. standing up for myself, being my own person, loving another butch, refusing to lose the kindness i so desperately clung to my whole life, refusing to limit myself and my dreams, this is who i am. i am friends with other butches. i am not alone anymore. for now, this is butch. this is me.

#transgender #transition timeline #trans woman #butch

83 notes · View notes

superprincesspea · 7 months

Text

Courted by the Dragon

Chapter 10 - Gallantry and Bravery

Aemond Targaryen is both the cause and witness to the greatest humiliation of your life. You would rather die than see him again. Yet summer at court and the precipice of civil war have other ideas.

Masterlist

~~~

The tourney had claimed most of the afternoon, but there were still plenty of hours left before the feast, and you wanted to spend them alone, lying on your bed and staring up at the canopy.

You just couldn’t stop thinking about the way Lord Glover had died, his body hitting the dirt, and the smile which had filled Aemond’s face. So pleased, no remorse.

He'd never looked more like a dragon than he did in that moment, and you’d never despised him more either.

Yet the tourney had been a success, the crowds had cheered so vibrantly, the entire royal box filled with celebration.

It seemed only you who was disturbed by Glover’s death, and you supposed death at a tourney was commonplace. There had been three others, but they were strangers killed by strangers and Glover’s death felt personal.

Not just because you’d given him your favour, but because of Aemond. Maybe it was unfair to hold him to a higher standard, but he was no stranger, and you didn’t like to think of him as the kind of man who could kill so easily. So senselessly.

More than anything, you couldn’t stop wondering if he had killed Glover for you .

Perhaps that seemed vain, but you could not be blind to Aemond's misplaced affection a moment longer, even if you had no intention of ever returning it.

Rolling onto your side, you stare out the window and Maris burst through the door with a letter in hand.

“Helaena has invited us for tea,” she says excitedly, plopping herself on the bed so all you can see is her bright smile.

You groan, staring back up at the canopy, “can you not go with Cassandra?”

“She’s had too much sun and needs to rest before the party,” her voice lowers with a small but wicked laugh, “her nose has turned quite red.”

“You’re cruel,” you say, pushing her shoulder and she laughs again before clinging to your sleeve, her grip tight and desperate.

“I must find out why Prince Aemond asked for my favour,” she says and, though you’d been wondering the same thing, you can think of nothing you’d like to do less.

“Why can’t you just go alone?” you say, and she rolls her eyes, still clinging onto your sleeve.

“You know I cannot be the one to ask Helaena of Aemond’s intentions, it would be far too forward. But if you ask...”

You groan dismissively as she stands, trying to pull you up.

“Oh please, please, please,” she begs, “you know I would do the same for you in an instant.”

Of course she would, there was no end to her scheming especially when it concerned matters of the heart.

"Please sister,” she begs again, and you know her well enough to realise she will not stop until you give her what she wants.

So you sigh, and roll from the bed, before striding towards the door and yanking it open.

“Well , are we going or not?” you say unhappily, and Maris’ smile is so triumphant as she hooks her arm in yours as though she thinks you might change your mind and abandon her at any moment.

When the guards open the doors to Princess Helaena’s quarters, the first thing you notice is two blond haired toddlers who are playing on a plush rug with their nursemaid. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera.

You’d never seen them before and wave your fingers, hoping for a dimpled smile. But they only stare, suspicious of strangers, their lips in soft baby pouts.

The second thing you notice is Aemond and your heart just about leaps into your throat at the unexpected sight of him.

He’s lying on the chaise; his torso completely bare except for the bandage wrapped tightly around his bruised ribs.

You know you shouldn’t be looking, but you can’t seem to claw your eyes away as they sink to his stomach, where the tight definition of his abdomen dips below the lose strings on his breeches.

He normally wears leather, but these are soft, black cotton and his feet are bare, relaxed .

You’ve been staring long enough for your cheeks to turn pink before you try to retreat back through the door.

“Perhaps we should return another time,” you suggest, crashing into Maris, who not only blocks your escape but pushes you deeper into the room.

“You will have to excuse my brother,” Helaena announces, waving her hand to beckon you both out onto the balcony, but Maris makes no attempt at excusing Aemond’s presence.

She rushes to kneel at his side, her smile more triumphant than when you’d agreed to come here.

“You fought so gallantly today, my prince,” she gushes, her eyes like two saucers which are ready to plate him up.

Aemond groans as though her kind words are an insult, before his attention returns to you.

“Have you come to scold me, Lady Baratheon?” he says.

Maris laughs nervously, “ why would she do that?”

“Because your little sister seems to disapprove of everything I do.”

He presses his hand to his bandage and forces himself from the chaise with a pained grunt.

“I did not realise his grace held any esteem in my opinion,” you reply, but you know it isn’t true and Aemond laughs softly.

“Yet you like to give it anyway, don’t you Lady Baratheon?”

“My preference for the extent of our communication has not changed since the first instance. In that I should prefer to avoid it at all costs.”

“Yet you are here ,” his voice is louder now, “when there are a thousand other places in the Red Keep, or shall I vacate the entire castle for your solitude?”

“I would not expect his grace to vacate anything for my benefit. So I will leave, if it suits the princess,” you say, glancing to Helaena and hoping she will intervene in some way because, despite what you’ve just said, you cannot seem to get your feet to move as Aemond stalks closer.

“I would rather you told me what you thought of the tourney,” he demands.

You say nothing. Waiting until he’s crossed the room, and you can see every shade of purple which blossoms in the bruise beneath his good eye, as much as you can feel the heat radiating from his bare skin.

He killed a man ; you remind yourself as your eyes scrape across his swollen lip to where the cut has crusted over.

“I do not think his grace would enjoy my answer.”

“Try me.”

You glance at Maris who’s giving you a pleading look, but if Prince Aemond wants the truth, you won’t sugar coat it for him. In fact, you’ll give it so harshly that he’ll stop looking at you the way he’s looking at you in this very moment.

His soft pensive expression, almost forcing you to forget how much you’d despised his actions less than 3 hours ago.

You wind your shoulders back as though you’re a knight preparing to strike a blow. “I found the whole thing to be a spectacle of senseless violence with no use but to pet your own sense of grandeur. Ser Glover was the better fighter and-

“Sister!” Maris interjects, the word shrill and horrified.

“No, do go on, Lady Baratheon,” Aemond encourages, his eye levelling with yours, his fingers splaying wider across his ribs.

“You killed him in cold blood like a petulant child who cannot stand to lose a game.”

Silence commands the room, and then laughter. Aemond’s laughter, stifled by the pain in his ribs but still there and not at all disturbed by your stark analysis as he returns to the chaise.

Maris stands, the expression in her eye beyond angry, yet her lips are sealed in a tight line which could never be broken in front of the prince.

“Come ,” Helaena says, offering her hand for Maris while giving you a harrowing look, “let my brother stew in his self-pity.”

When they disappear onto the balcony, you know they probably don’t want your company, but you feel as though you cannot leave either.

So, you resign to follow, but stop short when Aemond reaches out to catch your wrist, the rough touch of his fingers searing across your skin without a glove to mask it.

You look at his face, then to the place where he’s gripping you so tightly, and it's the same place Lord Glover had touched when he’d kissed your hand, yet the feel is entirely different.

Glover was trying to seduce you with gentleness, but Aemond’s touch isn’t gentle, its certain , and your heart isn’t just fluttering, its beating so hard you feel it might burst into flames.

“Your grace?” you whisper, hardly daring to meet his eye.

“You’re right. Lord Glover was the only man who dared to face me, and he did better me. So I killed him to ensure there was no man in all of Westeros who could ever stand against me.”

You look at him now, your voice tight, “then you’re a coward.”

If your words wound him, he covers it well, tugging your arm so you’re forced closer, crouching to stop yourself from falling ontop of him.

“If only you held yourself to your own lofty standards of bravery, then perhaps you would not spend your time at court skulking in the shadows and pretending you don’t enjoy every second you spend in my company.”

“I am not brave and never claimed to be and... I don’t need to pretend.”

"Neither do I, and I don’t give a shit about tourneys or gallantry. I’m no white knight hero from a song and I would kill every man in Westeros if they stood in my way.”

“If you care so little about tourneys, then why bother competing?”

A smile flicks across his lips and you regret your question as his hand sinks between the cushions on the chaise to retrieve a handkerchief.

“I must admit, you have no talent for needlework,” he teases, and your eyes grow wide as you notice the wonky cornflower which is now caked in dust and grime.

You hadn’t seen him collect it from the end of Glover’s lance, and never imagined he would either.

When you reach to snatch it from his hand, he shoves it back below the pillow with a taunting laugh, “you’ll have to try better than that.”

You don’t take the bait. You’re not about to scramble around on top of him for the sake of a handkerchief.

He can have it, it’s just a piece of cloth so it doesn't mean anything . Yet it also means everything , and you know how much it would upset Maris if she knew it was your favour he kept by his side instead of hers.

You wrench your wrist back, wanting to at least take your arm from his grasp but Aemond doesn’t give that up either.

He holds you firm, neither of you saying a word before he chooses to relinquish your arm. Because he decides, not you .

Hastening to your feet, you grip your skin where his touch had been.

“If you think I could ever enjoy your company, then you must be completely deranged," you say before hurrying out onto the balcony which now seems like a refuge, except, when you sit at the table, you feel like the arrival of a dark cloud on a pleasant afternoon.

Maris and Helaena both stop what they’re doing to stare, but they don’t ask you to leave, and you thank the gods for propriety as you drink your tea and pick at your cake as though there’s nothing amiss.

Still, Maris has not forgotten about your little outburst. So when Helaena excuses herself from the table, she pinches your arm with all her might.

“Ow ,” you whisper harshly, trying your best not to squeal.

“You are the worst sister in the entire world!” she hisses, her voice shaky and filled with emotion. “You are ruining my chances with Aemond, is that what you want? For me to be miserable?”

Rubbing your arm, you can’t meet her eye as you say, “that’s not what I want.”

"Then can you at least try to be nicer to him?”

You wanted to scream or shake her, “believe me, if I were nicer to the prince, it would not increase your chances.”

Her eyes flare brightly, her cheeks hot, “and what is that supposed to mean?”

You sigh, your words carefully chosen, you’re not trying to hurt Maris. “I mean you are lovely enough for any man to want regardless of their feelings for me.”

"Well, if you care about me at all, you will apologise to him, or I will never talk to you again.”

You want to tell her ‘no’, but Helaena returns and Maris’ mind is already made up on the matter.

So, when it is time to leave, and Prince Aemond is still lounging on the chaise, she jabs you in the ribs with a pointed look before announcing, “my sister has something she wishes to say...”

You clench your nails into the palms of your hands, and try not to roll your eyes, as everyone in the room focuses their attention on you.

“Please... accept my apologies for the way I spoke before. I am unused to such… gallantry and bravery .”

It seemed your traitorous tongue could not be stopped, but Maris was satisfied with your apology, even if Aemond looked as though he could see into the very inner workings of your mind.

“Such heartfelt words, Lady Baratheon,” he began, “but I cannot accept an apology of which I have no need. If my lady thinks I am behaving like a... ‘ petulant child’ then she must be certain to tell me at her earliest convenience.”

“Well ...” Maris frowns, forcing a laugh, and looking as though she is completely unable to decipher whether the apology had worked in her favour or against.

“My sister also had the most wonderful idea of making you a remedy,” she added, kneeling by the prince's side once again.

“It's an old family recipe for swollen…” she tilts her head, glancing down his body, “muscles and um…” she meets his eye, “ lips.”

You could die of embarrassment for her, but you’re soon distracted by the amused way Aemond turns to look at you, “a remedy? How thoughtful of my lady.”

You shift from one foot to other, meeting Maris’ stern expression and feeling as though you might strangle her for concocting such a ridiculous scheme.

“She will bring it to you before the feast, my prince,” she added as if the mere suggestion wasn’t bad enough.

“Then I will look forward to it,” he replies, giving her, for once, the pleasure of a genuine smile.

When you’re walking away from the room and out of sight of the guards, it's your turn to pinch her arm and she does squeal.

“What remedy?” you demand.

Maris shrugs, “you said you would try to be nicer to him and I thought it would be a good gesture.”

You heave a very heavy sigh, “if it is you who wants the prince… don’t you think it should be you who brings him the remedy for his…” you mock her voice in a high falsetto, “swollen muscles and lips.”

She folds her face into her hands, completely dismayed, “oh no! Why did I say that?”

“Why, indeed?” you ask, annoyed beyond measure.

~~~

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed it! As Lady Baratheon, what would you put into Aemond's remedy? Are you softening to him or do you like to see him suffer?

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #ewan mitchell #romance #female reader #enemies to lovers #aemond targaryen x oc #prince aemond #slow burn

133 notes · View notes

takaraphoenix · 1 month

Text

How Chris and Peter Got a Kitten

Tags: m/m/m, polyamory, Pack Mom Stiles, True Mates, Spark Stiles, magic, curses, Kitten Stiles, fluff, hurt/comfort, Erica Lives, Boyd Lives, Jackson Doesn't Leave, m/f

Main Pairing: Chris/Peter/Stiles

Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Peter Hale, Chris Argent, Derek Hale, Jackson Whittemore, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd III, Isaac Lahey, Cora Hale, Allison Argent

@writersmonth Prompts: chess + park

Summary: Chris and Peter are on their anniversary retreat and the pack is not supposed to bother them. However, the pack faces a witch while they are gone and somehow, Stiles gets cursed into a fluffy kitten that won't let anyone but the Alpha pair touch him. So the couple gets to kitten sit while the rest of the pack figures out how to turn Stiles back human.

This Fic on FFNet | This Fic on AO3

How Chris and Peter Got a Kitten

Stiles Summer Stories 2024

Peter was shirtless, straddling his mate's thick, comfortable thighs. He was dragging his lips along the span of that tempting neck, kissing, scratching his teeth over it. The man beneath him was grunting pleased, bucking up into him. The moment was perfect, until his buzzing phone interrupted them. Groaning annoyed, Peter sat up so he could look at his phone. It was just Isaac though, not Stiles, which meant it was not important, certainly not important enough for Peter to take his hands off of Chris when the man looked as delectable as he did right now.

Chris and Peter were on a romantic week long retreat at a charming little mountain cabin and the damn pack knew not to bother the Alpha pair. Stiles was in charge, the pack knew that. Emissary of the pack, the most clever member of Peter's pack. Stiles was in charge, which meant Stiles was the only one allowed to bother Peter during this week. And, admittedly, perhaps he also put Stiles in charge to have an excuse for not ignoring Stiles' calls, because Peter could never ignore his little Spark. And the last thing Peter needed was for the rest of the pack to grow suspicious of the special privileges Stiles had with the Alpha. Nobody needed to know that Stiles was his mate, was his and Chris' third, not until the two were ready to court the young Spark. Which, due to Chris being incredibly boring and upstanding and all that moral nonsense won't be until Stiles turned eighteen.

His phone buzzed again and he took a deep breath, tearing his lips away from Chris' jawline again to glare at his phone again. Boyd this time. Mh. Less likely to call for no reason, but still not Stiles. Turning his attention back to Chris, he stole a slow, deep kiss.

A different phone buzzed and Chris pushed him off his chest with a heavy sigh. They both saw Allison's name and smiling face light up at them and Peter knew he'd lost this battle. The only way to go around the explicit no bothering order was for Allison to call her dad, because under no circumstances was Chris ever going to ignore his daughter.

"Hello, princess," Chris smiled amused at his exasperated mate. "I really hope that this is important and not just a call to check in, because Peter is already glaring at me."

"You need to come home, you both need to come home right now."

The smile faded from Chris' lips, his eyebrows drawing together. "Allison, calm down. What's going on? What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

Peter sat up straighter and more serious too. She sounded panicked and it took a lot to make the trained huntress panic. Still, why would she call them. His fingers twisted into the blanket.

"No, no, I'm fine," Allison took a deep breath. "But it's Stiles."

And there it was. The thing Peter had feared. He sucked in a breath, eyes flashing.

"What's wrong with him?" Chris was already getting out of the bed.

"He… He…" Allison took yet another breath to calm herself. "There was a witch and we had a plan, a good plan, but when she realized he's a Spark, she got really vicious and she cursed him."

"Okay," Chris was putting on his shirt, the phone between his ear and shoulder. "What do you know about the curse? Is that why he's not calling us himself? Because he can't speak?"

"I… yeah," Allison swallowed. "He, uhm… He's kind of… a cat now…"

Chris stumbled a little and Peter paused. "What."

"She turned him into a cat. Full cat. Fur and triangular ears and all. He's kind of cute, honestly," Allison sounded a little more calm now. "But… he… he won't let any of us touch him, he climbed up a tree and every time one of us tries to get him down, he hisses at us and swats at us. He scratched Erica, Isaac and even Scott up badly. So he… he's not just physically a cat, he doesn't seem to recognize any of us and it's… it's scaring us."

Okay. Peter ground his teeth together and took a deep breath. He knew his eyes were blazing red, but someone had dared curse one of his mates. And while Peter hadn't even been there to protect their little Spark. Chris reached out to take his hand, giving it a gentle, calming squeeze.

"We're on our way back, sweetie," Chris spoke softly. "Three hours. Two if we break every speeding law in the county and I feel like the sheriff may let us off the hook for this one."

Peter grabbed the phone from Chris. "Until we're back, Derek is in charge. I want you all to stay away from the witch, do not let any of the betas run after her in retaliation. If her magic affects Stiles, then it will be even more potent on you. I need you all to stay with Stiles, watch him. If he reacts volatile to you right now, then don't get closer. Don't spook him, but… keep an eye on him. Where are Scott and your pack, Allison?"

"The others left," Allison sighed. "Since he was reacting so strongly even to his own pack, Scott told our betas to leave too. I think they went to make a plan on how to track the witches, but… what you said makes sense, I'll tell them to wait with any action. Scott left to talk to Deaton."

"Good," Peter nodded pleased. "Atta, girl. Tell your mate to call us, immediately, if he finds anything useful out from his Emissary."

"I love you, Allison. We're on our way," Chris called out before they hung up.

As soon as the call disconnected did Peter growl, dark and filled with the need for revenge. His claws were out and he was eager to sink them into a witch. Chris heaved a sigh, approaching him.

"I need you to calm down, Peter," Chris whispered gently. "I need you to focus so we can get back to Beacon Hills and help our boy out. Can't do that if you lose it."

Taking a slow, deep breath, Peter nodded. "Right. You're right, Christopher. I'm sorry."

"No," Chris shook his head and nuzzled Peter's neck in a soothing manner. "Your mate's in danger and you aren't there. You already lost so much, love."

"We both did," Peter argued, rubbing his nose along Chris' neck.

And that was true. The two of them, they'd lost nearly their entire family and they had to rebuild everything from the ground. Peter had known Chris was his mate when they were young, fooling around, but Gerard hadn't allowed it so Chris had gotten married to a respectable huntress. Only when the both of them had lost near everything, did they finally find together. And rebuilt together.

After Derek had given up the Alpha Spark, after Scott became a True Alpha and started building his own pack from the ground, Peter and Chris drifted together. And then Peter went and killed the annoying Alpha bitch who had attempted to make Derek kill Boyd, which gave Peter the Alpha Spark back. At first, Peter had been worried that Derek wouldn't take it well, but Derek had never wanted to be an Alpha to begin with and they both knew he wouldn't have a Hale Pack left if not for Stiles – Stiles, who'd so naturally taken over the role of Pack Mom as soon as him and Scott had joined the pack, protecting the betas at the rave and after, discovering his magic for the sake of protecting the pack, telling Derek and Peter where to find Erica and Boyd after Gerard had taken and tortured them all, having tried to protect the betas in that basement too.

A Pack Mom. When Peter had first learned that, he'd been thrilled. Not every pack was lucky enough to have someone capable of filling this role. The heart and soul of a pack, the glue to keep it together. And that was exactly what Stiles had done, by bringing Erica and Boyd back to them, making them stay in Beacon Hills, by bringing Jackson into the pack and making sure Derek and Peter would teach him control and include him.

By the time Scott became a True Alpha, Stiles' bonds with the Hale Pack were too deep to sever. Not without serious pain for Stiles. And Scott, to his credit, loved Stiles fiercely and would never want to cause him pain, even if he wanted Stiles in his own pack. Scott built his own pack, with Allison, Lydia, the reformed Alpha twins, Malia and Kira, and the newbies. After Peter's daughter and her mate, Peter kind of checked out on what was going on with the McCall Pack. Scott was taking in essentially every stray he could find, and good for him.

Though Peter knew that if Stiles wasn't part of the Hale Pack, there would be tension between the two packs. Scott and him had too much history, and yes Peter was aware that was on him, for them to co-exist as Alphas in the same town. The preserve was Hale territory, and Scott respected that, stayed out of it if possibly entirely. Otherwise, the two packs actually helped each other if there was a common threat they faced. They had all worked together to save Stiles from the Nogitsune.

"This is going to be such a big set-back," Peter whispered worried.

Chris sat behind the wheel, driving them illegally fast back to Beacon Hills. He grunted his agreement and reached a hand out for Peter's, linking their fingers. Not just to comfort Peter, also to seek comfort himself. The Nogitsune had messed Stiles up badly, he still had regular nightmares that left him screaming loudly. Whenever something unpredictable happened, he would press his thumbs rhythmically against the pads of his other fingers, counting. They'd all worked so hard on helping him, but this? Losing himself again? That just screamed trigger.

"We'll get our boy back. And we'll help him get himself back, again."

Peter hummed softly, hoping that Chris was right. It was a little funny to him, how fiercely protective Chris had grown of Stiles too. When Peter had first confessed to Chris that they had a third, that there was another matebond they shared, Chris had been mortified to hear it was the sixteen year old loudmouth friend of Allison's. But once Chris accepted the matebond he had with Peter, accepted his role as Alpha Mate, and thus got more involved in the Hale Pack, he gradually grew attached to Stiles. Pack Mom and Emissary, because how could Peter possibly pass up something as delectable as his mate being a Spark? Especially since the former Emissary of the former Hale Pack had very clearly aligned with Scott even before Scott became a True Alpha.

/break\

Chris grunted at the impact of his daughter, Allison practically throwing herself at him as soon as him and Peter exited their car. She may be the Alpha Mate of the McCall Pack, but she was part of why their packs had such a strong alliance. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"Hey, kiddo," Chris murmured. "We're here now. Show us, where's Stiles."

Allison heaved a sigh and led the way into the park. The Hale Pack was sitting in practically a circle around a tree, Derek with his arms crossed, glaring up at the tree, Erica laying sprawled out with her head in Boyd's lap and her feet in Isaac's lap, Jackson arguing with Cora. None of them were injured and none of them looked overly worried, which eased some of Chris' tension.

"Where is my Emissary?" Peter asked, voice a growl.

All the betas pointed at the tree. Both Chris and Peter approached the tree slowly, looking through the branches until they spotted movement. When Peter tried to approach, Boyd caught his wrist.

"I wouldn't," Boyd pointed over at Erica and Isaac. "Their scratches aren't healing."

That did give Peter and Chris pause. The two exchanged a concerned look, before crouching down next to their beta. Erica didn't seem in pain, she mostly was pouting as she showed off her scratched-up arms. Isaac did the same, though he looked absolutely miserable.

"Stiles is gonna be so upset about hurting us," Isaac sighed.

Oh. Chris' face twisted and so did his stomach. Peter was right, this was going to be a huge set-back for their boy. He was still haunted by nearly killing Allison, hadn't been able to look at her for months. Even if just some scratches, he had once again hurt someone he loved without wanting to, without control over his body. Chris grabbed Peter's hand tightly.

"Dad?" Allison called out. "You got things covered here? I'll head back to my pack. I promise, I'll call you as soon as we find out anything useful. You do the same, okay?"

Chris gave her a sharp nod and then watched her jog out of the park. Taking a deep breath, he returned his attention to the tree and the rustling leafs. He took Peter's hand and the couple stepped closer to the tree. Slowly. The rustling moved, like the creature in the tree was making their way toward the tree's trunk. Was that a good sign or a bad sign?

"Stiles," Peter called up gently. "Please come down from the tree."

Growling. Peter and Chris exchanged a concerned look. With a sigh did Peter let go of Chris' hand and flexed his claws, before digging them into the tree trunk to climb up onto the tree. The image of Peter, climbing a tree, would have made him laugh so hard if it wasn't such a serious situation.

"You lot, get more alert. We can't let him run off," Chris warned.

The betas all stood and listened closely, ready to grab Stiles if he tried to run past them. Peter reached the branches and disappeared in the green. Something bolted out of the tree and landed on the ground. A cat, a bit larger than a normal house-cat, or at least larger than the house-cats Chris was familiar with. Long, dark-brown fur and the same honey-whiskey eyes that Chris could drown himself in. The cat looked tense, hissing at Cora when she made a move toward him. Chris motioned for her to step back again and she obeyed. Slowly, Chris crouched down on the ground, to not look as intimidating for the scared cat.

"Stiles," Chris spoke as softly as he could. "We're your pack. We won't hurt you."

"We would never hurt you, sweetheart, if you were human, you would know that."

Peter sounded actually pained as he jumped down the tree. Of course he was. His mate was cursed and frightened and they didn't know how to help him. Stiles seemed to tense, head turning wildly, looking for an escape but the betas were slowly inching closer to close rank. Make sure the kitten couldn't escape. The last they needed was for them to have to hunt down Stiles. After a moment of consideration, the cat dashed straight at Chris and jumped onto him. Not braced for the impact, Chris fell backward. The pack panicked, thinking Stiles was attacking him, but the cat simply burrowed into Chris' jacket and curled together on his chest.

"Hey there," Chris chuckled, pushing his jacket enough aside to look at him. "You good?"

Stiles looked up at him with those eyes and meowed before burrowing himself even deeper in the jacket. The betas stared at them in surprise. Peter furrowed his brows, carefully approaching.

"Is he unharmed?" Peter asked concerned.

Carefully, Chris grabbed the cat and pulled him out of his jacket, under loud protests. He put Stiles down in his lap and patted him down, to feel for any bleeding or broken bones or a pained reaction from the cat. Stiles simply grumbled and let it happen. The grumpy face looked cute on him.

"Not hurt, far as I can tell," Chris stated. "Good kitten."

He patted Stiles' head in praise for his good behavior. It was meant half teasing, as a joke. But the cat started purring loudly and pushed up into his hand, immediately rolling onto his side. His front paws folded against his chest and his very fluffy looking belly was up.

"That's so unfair," Erica groaned. "He looks so soft, I want to pet him, why did you scratch me but not Chris, huh, Batman? I thought I was your best not-Scott-friend!"

"Hey," Jackson glared at her. "I'm his best not-Scott-friend."

Closing his eyes, Chris shook his head and, after an insistent meowing, dropped his hand onto Stiles' belly to pet the incredibly soft fur. Stiles' purring increased and he started pawing the air. Oh damn, their little Spark was adorable as a kitten.

"Peter is never letting you live this down, Stiles," Chris informed the cat.

"Not just Peter," Cora offered, taking her phone and taking pictures. "Smile, Chris. I'm sending this one to Scott and Allison to let them know that he's fine."

Rolling his eyes, Chris looked up with a small smile when she took another picture. Peter was sitting down next to Chris, watching Stiles carefully, his fingers flexing. He wanted to try and pet their kitten too. Chris couldn't keep the smirk from his face.

"Go on, give it a try," Chris challenged.

Peter narrowed his eyes at his mate and reached out for Stiles, fully bracing himself to be scratched up the way the other wolves had been. Paws wrapped around his wrist, causing Peter to freeze. The betas were also holding their breath, waiting for Stiles' reaction. Stiles leaned up to sniff his hand, brushing his cheek against Peter's knuckles – scent-marking Peter – before licking his fingers.

"I'm going to guess that, even though he forgot that he's human, he still instinctively knows you're our Alphas," Derek supplied after a moment. "We scare him, because we're big, strong, predators. But your authority, maybe it still comes through."

Chris hummed and nodded. That made as much sense as anything. Carefully, he lifted Stiles up and held him against his chest so he could get up. As docile as Stiles was right now, Chris would prefer to get out of the park and somewhere where they could close doors and windows and make sure their Emissary couldn't run away and get lost somewhere.

"How did you not last twenty-four hours of us being gone," Peter heaved a sigh. "We will take Stiles to Deaton, to have him checked and see if the druid has any ideas what to do. You lot, call Lydia. Research who this witch is and what she wanted."

"Her and Stiles had already done a lot of the research when we confronted the witch," Jackson offered. "I'll call her to bring everything over. Do you want us to meet with her pack?"

"Scott is going to be pacing until this is solved anyway, Stiles is his best friend," Chris looked at the kitten. "Pool resources. Meet with them, work together. We'll give Derek a call after the visit."

Derek nodded sharply and the betas headed to the parking lot. Peter reached a hand out to scratch Stiles behind one triangular ear, increasing that already very loud purring. Stiles bumped his head against Peter's hand and the Alpha looked so happy that Stiles took to him too.

"This is… a disaster," Chris grunted, adjusting the kitten in his arm.

/break\

Stiles was heartbreakingly adorable. Peter was laying on the ground, cuddling the very demanding kitten. Whenever Peter and Chris were busy with something else – mostly, trying to figure out how to turn him back human – the kitten would meow and whine loudly and push himself into the line of sight of at least one of them, or climbing into their laps.

"If this wasn't a curse and if I wasn't worried about his mental state and mind, I would be enjoying this affectionate kitten so much more," Peter sighed.

They'd gone to Deaton, gotten a cat carrier for Stiles and the diagnosis that he was cursed. Great work. Though at least the druid could say that the wounds inflicted by Stiles didn't heal due to his magic, it was a natural defense that must have kicked in with the new, more vulnerable state he found himself in. The scratches were most likely going to heal normal once Stiles was back to human. Scott and Derek had already worked on a plan for a grit-search (with the sheriff's help, who had more expertise on search missions and who was out of his mind with worry for his son). Both packs teamed up and split into smaller groups to search for the witch.

Before being turned into a cat, Stiles had worked on protection potions. He'd just been hit by the witch before they were finished because they'd needed three more hours of brewing. So now, everyone was properly protected as they went to search for the witch.

"He's very cute," Chris agreed with a small smile, scratching Stiles' chin. "Now put him in the cat-carrier so we can head out and help search for the witch."

"I don't like putting him in the box," Peter whined, glaring at his lover. "We shouldn't lock our mate up. That goes against my instincts, Chris."

"Yes, but you know how much he freaked out with the betas present. Chances of him running off are too high, I don't want to have to hunt him down," Chris sighed. "Right, kitten?"

/break\

Peter gained a new level of respect for Scott, he'd never seen the other Alpha this angry before. An attack on Stiles, he took personal. It made Peter feel a little relieved, because part of him had never stopped feeling guilty for Stiles joining the Hale Pack over the McCall Pack, knowing of the deep bond the two boys shared and thinking the other Alpha may hold resentments about it. But being in different packs couldn't weaken their friendship either.

The packs captured the witch, enabling her magic and imprisoning her until she finally gave them what they needed to break the curse. Sadly, it wasn't a quick and easy solution. They needed to gather ingredients, some incredibly rare. Peter had to reach out to old contacts, to have them delivered as fast as possible and even that would take about a week. And then they'd still need to brew the potion to break the curse, which would be a two days long process too.

"We are absolutely redoing this anniversary get-away," Peter announced frustrated.

He was laying on the couch, Stiles spread over his chest and enjoying a belly-rub. Stiles really loved those the most. Allison laughed softly where she was sitting with her dad, playing chess. It was funny, Stiles was the one who had taught her to play that game, Stiles was also Chris' usual chess-partner, he'd be over at Chris and Peter's once a week just to play chess with Chris. Now that he was a cute little kitten, Allison had decided to fill in for him.

"You don't look like you're having a bad time," she pointed out teasingly.

He glared at his practically step-daughter. "Don't get me wrong, the kitten's very soft and cuddly, but there were… other… things I wanted to do with your father."

Allison's laughter died and she made a face. "Gross."

Chris heaved a sigh and shook his head. "I promise, we're going to redo the trip, as soon as Stiles is human again and we know that he will be fine, babe."

The hum from Peter was not just acknowledgment, it was also frustration. The longer this went on, the more worried he got about Stiles' mental state once they'd get him back. He pulled the kitten closer to his face, burying his nose in the soft fur.

/break\

Chris kept watching Stiles warily. They'd broken the curse, after ten days, they got Stiles back, and Stiles was behaving… too normal. He kept smiling and laughing and accepting all of the hugs, scent-marking and cuddling that both packs demanded, as reassurance that he was really back.

Derek and Isaac had gone upstairs to their respective bedrooms, the rest of the two packs had all left, Scott had agreed to drop Allison off at the Argents' apartment (that Chris mostly still kept because it was making pack alliances stranger if Allison were to live in the Hale House, but the kids were all less than a year from graduation and once she'd move out, he would sell the place to permanently move into the Hale House, with his pack).

"Ready to tell us how you really feel, doll?" Chris asked, voice rough.

Stiles was the only one who'd lingered behind, everyone else had left. Peter was leaning against the armchair Chris was sitting on, his arms crossed as he also tensely watched their mate. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. Stiles never liked to broadcast his trauma and pain, he swallowed it to instead be there for others. Neither Chris nor Peter wanted to let that happen ever again.

"I'm feeling fine," Stiles tilted his head, blinking at them.

"Stiles," Peter growled a little. "Don't make me say it."

"Listen, guys," Stiles shrugged. "If you want something, you will have to say it, because I genuinely have no clue what you want from me here. I stuck around because I could feel your eyes boring holes in me the entire evening so I figured you wanted to talk alone."

"Someone took your mind, you lost control of your body, you lost time," Peter pointed out.

Stiles froze at that, staring at him in surprise. That was it. He was going to admit how he really felt now, Chris could see him crack and braced himself to comfort their boy. And then Stiles smiled.

"You… You thought this thing would trigger me, because of the Nogitsune," Stiles whispered, still smiling warmly. "That's… considerate of you. But this, whatever it was, was different."

Peter shook his head. "I'll need more from you."

The smile died down and Stiles' face closed off more. "The Nogitsune was a foreign presence in my mind and it taunted me about what it did with my body, it made me watch how it… how it nearly killed Allison. It spoke to me and mocked me about the control it had."

It was rare to get him talking about the Nogitsune, mostly he would just force a smile, shrug and claim that he was fine. Chris held his breath as he listened closely. He could feel Peter's hand on his shoulder, knowing the wolf was grounding himself with Chris to keep from going over there and scooping Stiles up into his arms to never let him go again.

"This wasn't… like that," Stiles frowned at them, like he was struggling to articulate it. "Think of it more as being stuck in your wolf-form, Peter. Sure, I'm not a shifter by nature, but the curse was meant for a shifter, so when it hit me instead, it… it connected me with an animal-representation, basically with what I would be if I did accept the bite. It was me, but the change was disorienting and I kind of… tapped out of my humanity, for the most part."

"Of course the mischievous, fierce little Spark would be a volatile cat," Peter huffed. "But that still sounds just as triggering to me, Stiles."

"It wasn't," Stiles sighed and shrugged. "It was… warm. Relaxing. Liberating. It didn't feel like I was forced out of control, it felt more like… taking a vacation from being in control? I don't know how else to explain it, Peter, I need you to just believe me that I'm fine."

He made eye-contact with the Alpha, silently pleading with him to believe. Peter sighed and visibly relaxed, apparently pleased with that answer. He approached Stiles, brushing a hand over Stiles' cheek and down his neck, scent-marking their Emissary. Stiles closed his eyes and leaned into the touch and, much to their surprise, started purring.

"What the fuck," Stiles blinked startled, backing off. "Did I just-"

"Purr like a kitten?" Peter offered a bemused smirk. "You did."

"Okay," Stiles rubbed his hands over his face. "Guess I'm going back to Deaton's. Tomorrow."

"Text us what he says," Chris requested, frowning concerned. "And, Stiles? It's good that you're feeling good about it right now, but if that changes, call us."

Stiles looked up at him and nodded slowly. "Yeah. Sure. Anyway, I should get going. Night."

/break\

"You have a kitten sleeping on your chest, darling."

Chris grunted at just how sweet and delighted Peter sounded. So the weight on his chest was not Peter having decided to sprawl out over him, then. Cracking an eye open, Chris found Stiles curled together on his chest, purring softly. Mh. Blinking, Chris turned toward Peter.

"Broke into our bedroom at about three last night, through the window, which I will tease him about considering how much he complains about us wolves doing that," Peter smirked.

"He… broke into our bedroom… and just… went to sleep?"

"Yeah," Peter chuckled fondly. "He went straight for our bed, crawled under the blanket and was out like a candle in moments, I didn't even have the chance to ask him what he wanted."

"Shut u—up," Stiles groaned, wrapping his arms around his head. "Too early too loud."

"Sweetheart, you are cranky without a morning coffee."

Chris grunted his agreement. He tentatively laid one arm around Stiles' waist, reaching the fingers of his other hand out to card through Stiles' hair. He was rewarded by a loud, pleased purr.

"Wanna tell us why you're in our bed, doll?" Chris asked softly.

The teen in his arms froze at that, breath hitching. His eyes were wide when he actually bolted out of the bed. He looked mortified and surprised. Both Chris and Peter sat up slowly.

"Stiles?" Peter asked, voice careful. "It's okay. You were purring yesterday evening already. I'm assuming you have some… cat-instincts left over from the curse."

"Yeah, how does that explain waking up in your bed?"

"That's… where you've been sleeping for the past ten days," Chris offered. "Most of the time, curled together on my chest. You seemed to really enjoy listening to my heart-beat."

Stiles stared at them, confused and stunned. "Okay so you said I stayed at your place, but you forgot to mention that I slept in your bed, what the fuck, guys."

"You were a cute lil kitten," Peter shrugged. "You also curled together on Chris' lap during movie nights and sat on my lap during dinner, trying to steal my meat and fish."

A hiss came from Stiles, followed by an embarrassed squeak. "No. Nope. I can. Absolutely. Not deal with any of this. I'm just going to—How did I get here?"

"I think by foot," Peter suggested, pointing at Stiles' mud-covered shoes by the window. "How about you go and take a calming shower for now, then we eat breakfast and then I'll drive you to Deaton's myself, sweetheart? But we are not letting you leave like that."

The look in Stiles' eyes was wild and his breathing was picking up. Getting up, Chris walked over to Stiles, slow and careful so not to startled him. He noticed the way Stiles was counting his fingers.

"It's alright, doll," Chris spoke in a gentle voice. "This is real, you're awake, you're safe."

"Y… Yeah," Stiles nodded sharply, but he looked completely haunted when he looked at Chris. "This? This does scare me. I can't lose time again. I'm human, I should be in control. I can't-"

"We'll figure it out, Stiles," Chris' voice got firmer. "We'll figure it out together, okay."

He opened his arms in invitation, leaving it up to Stiles whether or not he wanted a hug. The boy threw himself at Chris and buried his face in the man's chest, gasping for breath. Peter approached them from the other side, carefully laying his arms around Stiles too.

"It's going to be okay, Stiles," Peter promised.

/break\

"So, this will actually help?" Erica asked with a frown.

Stiles shook the vile in his hand before downing it. "Should get rid of any curse-residue."

"But why did you break into the house?" Isaac wanted to know. "I mean, you could not get away from us fast enough, as a cat. You were scratching us up when we tried to get close."

"Yeah, it's still weird that you let Peter and Chris close at all," Jackson agreed.

"Like Derek said," Peter interrupted with a frown. "It's most likely due to him recognizing us as his Alphas, even in his altered state. And that's also why he came to us. He's been staying with us this entire time as a cat, if he still had the instincts… he followed them."

Peter was wrapped up with the betas, but Chris noticed the way Stiles scoffed at Peter's words. What a strange reaction. He narrowed his eyes, making a note to confront their boy. Later. They planned on driving him back home after the pack meeting anyway.

"It's getting late, kids," Chris announced once the conversation lulled a little. "Everyone, get back home. Stiles, we're driving you home. Peter's staying at my place tonight."

Chris and Peter altered every night where they slept, between the Hale House and the Argents' place, because he didn't want to leave Allison alone but Peter didn't want to leave his betas alone either. Under mild protests did the betas leave and pile into their respective cars. Chris got behind the wheel of his SUV, watching Peter and Stiles get in the back.

"Why did you scoff?" Chris asked with sharp eyes. "When Peter said to the betas that you reacted to us because we're your Alphas. We are your Alphas, Stiles."

Peter tilted his head curiously, not having caught that. Stiles snorted and crossed his arms.

"Sure you are, but you really think the bond to the pack Alphas would be strong enough for this? I'm Pack Mom and I didn't recognize my own pups," Stiles' eyes were sharp and angry (and Chris could see the thrill on Peter's face, as always when Stiles recognized his role in the pack). "These bonds? These instincts? They're designed by nature to be even stronger than a pack-bond to the Alpha. That's not why I recognized you and it's honestly such a weak lie. You could have at least come up with something a little better, if you don't want the pups to know."

"...Don't want the pups to know what, Stiles?" Peter looked genuinely confused. "Do you know why you recognized us but not the rest of the pack?"

Stiles threw a peculiar look at them – somewhere between baffled and hurt. "Are you serious right now? You really… You're really going to make me say it? Our mate-bonds are what kept me anchored to my humanity, quite literally since they are my anchors."

Both Peter and Chris froze, staring at Stiles in shocked silence. He knew? They'd meant to tell him when he turned eighteen, to then properly court him. How did he know? How long had he known? Stiles just sat there, glaring, his arms crossed over his midsection in a self-protecting manner. Protecting himself from them, Chris realized with a mortified start.

"You can just let me out here, I'll walk the rest of the way home," Stiles muttered.

"No," Chris grunted, glaring at the wheel. "We're going to talk about this."

"Fuck you," Stiles huffed out a laugh. "Nah. I'm not doing this. I'm perfectly fine with this thing we have going on where we just don't talk about the mate-bonds, because you two don't want me. I absolutely do not need to hear you now 'let me down gently' or whatever. I'd rather jump out of the still driving car and take my chance on that, Christopher."

"Don't want you," Peter echoed baffled. "That's not-"

Stiles growled at him, low and in warning. And the bizarre nature of a non-wolf growling at a wolf in warning would have been funny under different circumstances. Stiles looked like a cornered animal right now and it didn't sit right with Chris that they were the cause of that.

"Peter," Stiles forced the name out. "I mean it, I don't need or want that spiel. We've known each other for nearly two years now. You've known we're mates for nearly two years now. And I came to terms with the fact that you don't want me a year ago. When you two got together. Because clearly you had no problem telling Chris that he is your mate. So, I'm fine."

Only that he didn't look fine. He looked hurt and bitter and angry. Chris would park the car so he could properly look at Stiles to talk to him but he feared that Stiles would just run off then.

"H… How long have you known?" Peter asked, voice soft and afraid. "And how?"

"I'm magic, Peter," Stiles heaved a tired sigh and closed his eyes. "I'm not human. I can feel the mate-bonds, just like you can. Well, at least ever since my Spark first ignited. So. I've been able to feel it since you came back to life. And at first, I got it. I mean, I… killed you. And it was kind of awkward, for a while. But then you let me stay in the pack, even after you became Alpha again. And you chose me to be your Emissary. And I don't..."

"It's my fault he hasn't told you," Chris spoke up, interrupting Stiles. "When Peter and I… worked our shit out, he told me, that we had a third, and that it's you. And I told him that we could absolutely not put that kind of pressure or expectation on you, because you were just a kid. You are seventeen, Stiles. You are twenty five years younger than me. And your father is the sheriff."

Stiles paused, warily, cracking one eye open to stare at Chris through the rear-view mirror. "So it's the age-gap that bothers you, then? Because I've really been rotating what about me-"

"No," Chris growled, shaking his head. "Not bother – well, I'm not thrilled about the fact that you're the same age as both our daughters – but it's not… It's not about bothering us, it's about you, Stiles. You're young, you had… choices. You deserved a normal high school romance. You didn't deserve the burden of being tied to two very messed up middle-aged men."

"I didn't tell you before because… quite frankly, I didn't know how," Peter added on with a heavy sigh. "You did help kill me, which… made me think you weren't too fond of me. And I was… still working through a lot of… things, after my resurrection. I needed to focus on me. But when I told Christopher, I did have every intention of telling you too. And I don't mean to place blame on Christopher here, I did agree when he said to wait. I… thought he was right. You deserved what little normalcy you could have, for as long as you could. Telling you when you turned eighteen, when you graduate high school, to let you make your own decision…"

"Are… you serious?" Stiles was staring from one of them to the other, baffled. "You thought… Are you… stupid? I was the boy who ran with wolves even before I learned I had magic! My life hasn't known any normalcy since I walked into the woods to go looking for a dead body – and, quite frankly, the fact that that's what Scotty and I thought was a good time on a Friday night should clue you in on the fact that there hadn't been too much normal even before the bite. And have you ever known me to do something I didn't want to? Knowing you're my mates wouldn't have made me feel compelled to do anything I didn't want to, Christ."

Stiles rubbed his face in agitation. "And my dad. My dad is seven years older than my mom. She was seventeen when they first met. He's gonna glare at you, a lot, but that's all he would do, because he knows it'd be a hypocrite thing to do. Fuck you."

"What… can we do to fix this, Stiles?" Peter asked desperately.

"Why do you want to…" Stiles sighed, so tired. "I'm fine with how things are."

"But we aren't," Chris' voice was firm. "You age was – is – the only reason we didn't tell you. And nothing will happen until you are eighteen. But how things are isn't how we want them to stay. The plan was to tell you when you turn eighteen, and then to court you, properly, until graduation. So you could decide, once you graduate, whether you want to seal the bond or not."

"So you are idiots, mh," Stiles frowned at them and shook his head. "I'm so tired. Okay. Fine whatever. I have a hard time believing that, but if you want to 'fix' this, or show me that you actually mean it, then… Start courting me! I'm turning eighteen in three months. Start courting me now. Show me that you actually want me and aren't just saying shit now out of pity."

He spat the words, looking angry. Vulnerable. He was afraid to get hurt.

"We will, sweetheart," Peter spoke with conviction and determination.

/break\

So Chris and Peter didn't not want him, as he had assumed for the past year. They were just considerate idiots, who thought Stiles would be 'better off' not knowing. Get some high school romance, not get weird looks for having middle aged men court him. Absolute idiots.

But at least they were aware of how much their idiocy had hurt him, because damn did they put effort into courting him. From fancy dinners to expensive presents, clothes, getting his Jeep fixed – and fully fixed, every single problem Roscoe had, which in total cost more than a new car would have. A lot of the gifts were magical ingredients or objects that Stiles had wanted but couldn't afford and knew were only of personal interest so he never put them on his 'Emissary shopping list' (a thing that actually existed and that he regularly handed to Peter to get whatever he needed).

Stiles hummed curiously as he walked through the hall toward the living room. He could hear Peter in the kitchen, preparing lunch for them. Chris was in the living room though, a book in his lap as he was reading. There was a large window front with a brilliant view over the forest, all the way down to Silver Lake. Once in the living room, Stiles walked over to Chris and nudged the man's arm until he moved the book out of the way. Pleased, Stiles climbed into his lap.

"Hello, kitten," Chris chuckled, resting his head on Stiles' head. "Done exploring?"

The stupid nickname had stuck, even after the cat-behavior mostly stopped. Mostly, on account of him being much more tactile ever since. He'd always enjoyed physical touch, but he wasn't good at asking for it. Now though, he just climbed into people's laps if he felt like it, or sprawled out on them. The pack absolutely loved it, since wolves were tactile by nature.

"The cabin's nice," Stiles replied after a moment.

The cabin where Chris and Peter had meant to celebrate their one year anniversary five months ago. Now, the three of them had rented it to celebrate Stiles' graduation together. And, after five months of them being really very sorry and very considerate, Stiles felt reassured in his place with them. He really did believe that their words all these months ago hadn't been pity.

"Lunch is ready, would you go and get our kitten, Christopher?" Peter called out.

"I already got our kitten," Chris replied smugly.

Peter walked into the living room, carrying three plates of very delicious smelling pasta. His eyes flashed red when he found his mates curled together like that on the couch. Stiles tilted his head, reaching out for the Alpha, and the food. Each of them was handed a plate and Peter sat down next to Chris. The hunter nudged Stiles gently, but the Spark opted to ignore him.

"Doll, I can't really eat when you're in my lap," Chris frowned.

"Peter, he doesn't want me in his lap," Stiles turned big eyes on Peter. "Did you hear that."

Peter huffed and put his own plate aside. He reached over to grab Stiles by the waist to hoist him up and over into his own lap, happily nuzzling Stiles' neck and glaring at Chris.

"Your priorities are horrible, Christopher," Peter chided.

"Yes," Stiles offered a smug grin and leaned back against Peter. "Horrible, Christopher."

Chris heaved a sigh and picked up his plate. "Sure, but if I had ignored Peter's cooking, then I would have gotten the exact same spiel, wouldn't I. I can only lose with you two brats."

Even without looking at Peter's face, Stiles knew his wolf's smile matched Stiles'. He started eating, humming contently at the taste. Peter really was a great cook. After two forks, he lifted one up to Peter, not wanting the wolf to go without lunch, after all.

"Hah," Peter smirked victoriously. "See, I get the pretty kitty on my lap and I get hand-fed."

His arms wrapped around Stiles' waist as though he wanted to make sure that Chris couldn't steal Stiles back. A soft snort and shake of his head was all he got from Stiles for it. Possessive wolf.

"Don't spoil him too much," Chris warned. "You know he gets unbearable if he's spoiled."

"How dare you," Peter glared. "Our kitten deserves-"

"Peter, he's talking about you," Stiles chuckled, kissing Peter's jawline. " But we love you anyway."

~*~ The End ~*~

#Stetopher #Peter Hale #Stiles Stilinski #Chris Argent #Pack Mom Stiles #Pack Alpha Peter Hale #Teen Wolf #Fanfiction #Phoe's Fics #Stiles Summer Stories 2024

28 notes · View notes

fandomfluffandfuck · 3 months

Note

congrats on finishing finals! i’ve just finished so finally enjoying my free time before i start my summer job. I’ve got a request (if you’re willing) of probably my favourite scenario for stucky.

Basically it centres around the eagerness of whoever tops (preferably steve) and probably edging towards them being the sub with how much they want the other person. The whole scenario is just begging and whining when it finally happens. Also if it happens somewhere spontaneous like a kitchen counter that’s just a cherry on top. Sprinkle in a bit of praise kink and my life is yours.

Thank you!! Congrats on getting through your finals, too. And this took me a while to get to, so I hope that your free time before your summer job was nice and relaxing 😘

I'm so down for this prompt! Here you go:

Steve doesn't sleep in.

Steve doesn't sleep in and on a related note Bucky could be convinced that it's because the real underlying purpose of the seurm was to make fucking sure that Steve would become an even bigger pain in Bucky's ass that he could be before when he was a 5'4" asthmatic-ass punk. The serum makes sure that Steve can run faster head first into danger, putting Bucky's heart attack on speed dial, the serum makes sure that he can take bigger bullies and come out with bruises and a broken, bloody nose that heals faster, meaning Bucky has to get angrier at the people who take advantage of his speedy healing, the serum makes sure sure he has enough energy to bounce up and down on the balls of his feet all day every day and still wake up at the ass crack of dawn to roll out of bed, jostling Bucky awake as he leaves for his run, murmuring something Bucky can't process in his ear and leaving a sloppy, morning-breath kiss on his cheek. So. Steve doesn't sleep in. Almost ever. Thank you, super soldier serum.

That being said, it's a fucking miracle that Bucky woke up this morning by himself, no too-early interruption of Steve leaving to run or coming home from his marathon-length sprint to make noise like a bull in a chinanshop as he gets ready for his day. Showering. Getting dressing. Rustling around in the nightstand and the closet and--

Thank you, most recent top-secret mission, for exhausting my stupid boyfriend enough that he crashed for over 10 hours without leaving him seriously injured, just sleep deprived, Bucky muses to himself. He's in such a pleasant mood surprisingly early that's he's humming to himself as he makes eggs over the stove top, still in his loose gym shorts and stretched-out, comfy t-shirt. With two super soldiers sharing a single bed, it's too hot to sleep in clothes, but Bucky does have standards. He has unfashionable lounge wear. Of course. He's human.

Bucky smiles at his ridiculous amount of eggs--nearly a whole carton and a half dumped and scrambled just to keep his metabolism (and Steve's by extension) happy. He's not a morning person. He never has been. Normally, he's grumpy right about now. But, today is a good day, Steve is catching zzzs, safe and sound at home, and Bucky woke up on his own volition, and he gets to surprise his boyfriend with cheesy, spicy eggs. It's disgustingly domestic for two aged soldiers who have been war-torn and tortured. Or, it would be domestic if--

"Heyy," Steve's sleep rough voice is suspiciously deep and slow, announcing his sudden presence over Bucky's shoulder before the sound of his feet on the hardwood.

--Steve would let him actually have a moment of innocent peace.

Bucky will protect his peace, though--just like he does when Steve is stomping his feet in their bedroom, early morning, post-run, throwing a pillow at his sweaty boyfriend. Self-defense. Anyone in court would side with him, he's sure.

"I know what tone, Mister," Bucky tells Steve, not bothering to turn around just yet. He has priorities. Food. "Don't even think about it, I'm making your breakfast too, you know."

"I haven't done anything! I barely said anything!" Steve wheedles in response, padding farther into the kitchen and slouching against him heavily. He radiates heat like a furnace through Bucky's thin clothes. Steve, however, is still fully nude.

"Not yet," Bucky points out. Literally. Turning around to point his egg-y fork at his stupid, big, bare chest. Steve is, just, acres of pale skin and faint freckles smooth over shapely muscles, and... Bucky can't quite blame the way his mouth waters on his empty stomach.

One of Steve's stacked pecs twitches at the end of his fork, pointed at and ostensibly offended. Simiarly, Steve's hands come up as do one of his eyebrows, impressively defensive for a guilty man, "tough guy this morning, huh?"

"Tough?" Bucky challenges, poking the fork into his right pec. To be fair, they're the only ones eating these eggs, so it's not unsanitary, and Steve looks ripe. Juicy, even. He could be eaten, though Bucky would prefer to eat him without cutlery; he wants to tear into him with his teeth. "'S that what you call it, making sure we don't starve to death?"

Steve cocks his head to the side, barely hiding the blantant need in his wide eyes with a sparkling smirk.

Matching his silence, his game, Bucky dares to turn back around, thinking he's dismissed the tank of muscle and nuclear-level sex drive that is Steve, but he pays for his mistake when Steve plasters himself to his back. Again. Harder this time. Tighter to him with the heat of his big chest all-ecompassing, the flat plains of defined, solid abs making Bucky want bad things, and the impressive, insistent pressure of his uncovered erection achingly noticable.

Pushing the words out of his mouth, sharper than he feels, Bucky teases, "I can't believe you're not dizzy with that thing in your pants taking up so much of your blood."

Steve tries to snort, but he doesn't exactly make it. The sound lands somewhere closer to an exhaled, wanting pant of air more than anything else.

"What pants?" Steve jokes, then, "you wanna check to make sure I'm not dizzy, 'cause... I'm not so sure, Buck," Steve hooks his chin around Bucky's shoulder, letting his knees weaken. If he looks, Bucky knows he'd be pouting, pretending to be faint. Big idiot.

"Mmm, I'm more willing to check to make sure it's not a gun."

Steve makes another noise that's supposed to illustrate his amusement. He misses the mark by a mile, though. Especially as his hands--baseball mitts, really--start wandering, and this hungry little groan bubbles up from his chest. He's groping him. There's no other way to say it. Groping. Big and heavy palms with strong, thick fingers, squeezing handfuls of his chest and then scratching his blunt nails down his abs, slipping up under his shirt to pet the silky trail of hair that leads down to his waistband with a breathless moan.

Bucky is making eggs with a sleep-puffy face and rumbled bed hair, and Steve is reacting as if he's a stripper working the pole, showering him with ones, getting inappropriately grabby. Life is a trip. Steve is stupid. What a huge dummy. There's something wrong with him, Bucky swears it.

"Having fun?" Bucky asks, intentionally letting his voice drag, sounding bored.

Steve doesn't pay him any mind. He just whines softly against his shoulder, using his whole face to nuzzle against his thin shirt. And Steve's insistent hands roam down, down, down, over his crotch to his thighs, squeezing hard at his thick quad muscles through his loose gym shorts.

"You're making me feel like a stress ball, Steven." He deadpans. He's still half asleep, but his body is coming more and more online by the minute or more accurately, more online by the fondle. His boyfriend really is just... grabbing him. Squeezing him. Hands digging in, nails biting, leaving fingerprint bruises in his wake.

"Am I?" Steve says, voice even lower, if possible. He doesn't give a shit about what Bucky's saying at the moment. It's undoubtedly going in one ear and out the other since he's started rutting against him. Grinding filthily, not even all that stealthy. He's completely shameless this morning. And his hips are against flush to Bucky's ass making his dick push between Bucky's cheeks, and, oh, making his underwear and shorts ride up, pressing against his hole and rubbing.

Bucky can close his eyes and imagine in perfect detail how it would feel for Steve to tear down his clothes and slide right in, splitting him open, filling him up until he chokes on it. Unable to do nothing but moan Steve's name. He's so close, positioned just right. He's, he could--

Ngh.

Bucky shakes himself, settling his resolve by taking a minimally shaky breath, trying to cool off.

Keep it cool, Barnes.

"Mmm-hmm," what the hell was he talking about? Oh, right, "I do." Bucky murmurs, voice even, "'cause, in case you forgot, I'm trying to keep you fed so you don't waste away on me, but you're crawling all over me like I'm a jungle gym. Imagine how that feels for me, hon."

"Jus'," Steve's breathing is getting faster and faster, his hips are moving faster and faster, too, sloppier, "w-wanna feel you."

"Yeah?" Bucky stirs his eggs, he already covertly turned them down, drawing this out. He doesn't want to be distracted and burn them, but he also isn't willing to let them finish just yet, nor is he willing to turn them off and leave them half cooked and ruined. Yeah, he's a tease, so what? "Can't you wait five minutes, shovel down some protein, and then feel me up like I'm some plaything?"

"No." Steve says petulantly, digging his hands into him as if that's convincing enough evidence.

"'Course not," Bucky sighs.

"Haven't seen you in five days, Buck!" Steve whines. Whines. Some big, manly soldier. Ha. If only the public knew the Steve Rogers under the proverbial mask. "I can't take it!"

Bucky tries to and does successfully snort. Take that, Steve. "Such a hardship, Rogers. The real tragedy in our lives, hm? You not getting your dick wet once during the whole work week?"

"Mmm," Steve replies, his filthy mitts all over his ass now, spreading him open to better fit his dick between his cheeks, pushing himself in closer and then going back to doing his thing. Rutting. "mmm-hmm, it is, Buck. It is. You got no idea what it's like!"

"Pfft, I'm retired, dumbass, not dead," Bucky snips back. "I do plenty of my own missing."

"Poor you," Bucky teases, trying to think about anything but the fuck-me whine that's in Steve's voice, as effective as a dog whistle at making his body obey. He's trained to his dick. God. What a time to be alive.

"Yeahh, but... ugh," any of the rest of his complaints briefly turn into a whimper. He recovers shortly to further agrue his point, typical, "at least you get alone time when I'm gone. I'm gone, and I can't get away to get off."

"It's terrible!" Steve rambles on, more complaining than anything else, "'cause when I'm here, I'm in you all the time, soaking in you, swear to fuck," Bucky can play cool all he wants on the outside, but he can't deny the arousal getting tighter and tighter deep in his gut, "and you're always so tight around my dick, squirming and moaning, and then I gotta leave and you--" Steve breaks off into a shaky moan as his grinding becomes rougher, less about the rythm and more about the desperation, "you got no idea what it's like, Buck! I have dreams about it."

It.

Dreams about it.

Bucky should be scandalized to be objectified and referred to that way, as a thing, but he isn't. This is Steve. He wants every dirty, filthy part of Steve. And Steve dreams about his hole. That arousal deep inside him? Yeah, it's not buried deeply anymore. It has him in a chokehold, forcing him to gasp for air or suffocate under the weight.

"I wake up on mission fucking my bed--" Bucky's thinking about it, oh, yeah, he is, he's thinking about the sculpted roundess of his ass and the way the muscles in his back and legs move, how he'd look from the top down, so desperate to stick his dick somewhere wet and hot and tight that his body will work with anything, even a mattress "--wanting you so bad. I stake out and get so bored, and I can't think about anything else than jerking off, wishing my hand was your ass. I can't help iiit!" He's so fucking whiny and, unfortunately, it really works for Bucky. "Everything, anything, sets me off. Just wanna get in you so bad. I miss it so much. You're so hot inside. It's, it's, God, it's like heaven, I swear."

Bucky can't even put words together for a moment. 'Cause apparently more sleep does Steve a whole fucking world of good, unlocking his mouth and letting it run. That, or, Bucky will have to re-check with Sam and make sure Steve didn't get hit in the head on mission.

"Please, Buck, please," he begs, faster, jerkier, no rhythm at all to his hips which is, admittedly, stupidly, really fucking working for Bucky. "Please," he murmurs, "turn off the stove, Buck, I need it. Need you!"

Bucky laughs despite his brain melting.

Steve takes offense, hugging Bucky tighter back against him, grinding harder as if he can somehow rip through the layers of Bucky's shorts and underwear with just his dick--if anyone could, it would be Steve.

"C'mooon, I'll be quick! I don't..." he cuts himself off seemingly without realizing, taking the time to suck a sloppy kiss into the exposed skin between Bucky's shoulder and neck where his worn sleep shirt collar is stretched beyond repair, marking him up, using his teeth, getting needy, messy, just how Bucky likes him. "I don't even gotta put the whole thing in, just the tip, I'll, I'll be good! Anything you want, I just wanna fuck you."

God.

His begging.

Lord in Heaven above, if Steve could fucking hear himself. If only that worlds-greatest-tactical mind was in the room with them right now. Christ. If Hell exists, he'll risk it for this. Damn, Bucky wants this fucking moment on vinyl so he can play it again and again and again until it wears so it skips and cracks through the speakers. He's so sweet when he wants to get his dick wet. It's like it's all he can think about and there's nothing else.

Bucky grumbles for show, but his hands are shaking as he snaps the oven knobs to point at 'off,' and his dick is laughably hard, pawed at too eagerly, clumsily by Steve's big, stupid hand. Bucky takes the opportunity to rut against Steve's warm, all-ecompassing hand once, twice, three times, before--

He struggles in his octopus grip until Steve realizes he wants to turn around, not squirm away. Once his slow-on-the-uptake boyfriend is on board, then Bucky does turn, and suddenly, chest-to-chest, he grabs Steve's unfairly square jaw. What else is he supposed to do? He pulls him into a bruising, vicious kiss. Slotting together how they always do, passionate yet well-practiced.

They kiss and kiss, until with their lips still together, mouths sliding salaciously against each other, Bucky threatens, "if you don't put the whole fucking thing in me right goddamn now, I'm gonna take my shower and stuff myself silly with a dildo instead of you. And you can listen while you make your own breakfast."

Steve's eyes are blown, so dark as he makes an aching, soft whimper that is decidedly satisfying and arousing, but not what Bucky's looking for--

"Got it, Rogers?" He rattles him, digging his fingers into his jaw and shaking him around a little. Just for fun.

"Sir, yes, sir." Steve rasps, out of breath despite the fact that they're not kissing like they're about to die anymore.

"Great," Bucky smirks, lifting one leg smoothly to wrap around his waist, then following it with the other, easy as a practiced dancer. Steve's heavy hands land on his ass immediately. "Counter," Bucky orders, adding, "hop to it, soldier," when Steve just stares for a moment. Staring at nothing, his eyes are hazy, and his mind is gone. He's severely caught up in the heat and friction of their erections finally fucking being pressed together but... Steve's a good boy, so he follows, breathing heavy like he's already inside him and battling against the velvet-soft tight heat of his body.

Cute.

Bucky is gonna have fun this morning. He's gonna dig his nails into Steve and make him fuck him through orgasms--not his own, but Steve's stupid big, sensitive, full-body Steve-gasms--until he's nothing but a shivering, electric lump of putty on top of him, barely thrusting into him, barely making sense as he begs to be done. Hypersensitivite. Feverish. Wet. Bucky will hold him to wanting to soak in him all day when he's gone, and Bucky will be soaking. Steve-gasms don't come without a fuck-load of cum and Bucky is prepared to be more filled than he's ever been in his life.

I intended to add more praise, but then I got carried away with the endearing Steve "himbo when horny" Rogers mentality. I hope that was still worth the wait 😘

#asks #fandomfluffandfuck #steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #big sub steve #top steve #dom bucky #bottom bucky #talking shit and getting off? yes please

28 notes · View notes

i-am-vita · 3 months

Text

Modern AU Headcanons

Mihawk x Oc Ghost Rose x Bogard

👉 My Masterlist

Based on my first OPLA Hot Older Guys Headcanons that inspired all my Oc Ghost Rose fics. My mind works in mysterious ways and now I have a full cozy mystery plot for the Mihawk x Ghost Rose x Bogard Modern AU. I have no idea if I will ever write this monstruosity, but at least it'll remain here for posterity.

Ghost Rose is an artist who returns to her hometown to take care of her niece after her family dies in an accident. There, she reunites with two men she was once in love with.

Bogard was her teenage sweetheart, whom she ended things with because he was willing to give up an excellent opportunity in the Marine to stay with her. Meanwhile, she had the chance to study at an Arts University. She didn't want to give up her dream or have him give up his for her, no matter how much she loved him. She wanted both of them to have a better future.

Mihawk she met just a few months before at an art exhibition in the city. He was captivated by one of her paintings and by her. They had a short, but intense romance. She was happy with her life in the city, though she was already considering returning to her hometown with her family. He had recently acquired some vineyards and would be moving soon. They knew each other too little for him to ask her to leave everything and go with him. So, they said goodbye, believing they wouldn't see each other again.

Upon arriving in town, Ghost Rose discovers Bogard is an Instructor at the local Marine Academy, and Mihawk is the new owner of the vineyards on the outskirts of town. Both are still in love with her and are determined to win her over.

Meanwhile, a few weeks before she arrived, the body of one of the vineyard employees was found with obvious signs of strangulation. Now, a cleaning employee at the Academy also turns up dead under unclear circumstances.

Niece decides to investigate the cases on her own while making friends in the town who also help her with her investigation, including Helmeppo, Bogard’s student, and Zoro, Mihawk's adopted son. They were the ones who found the second body while doing community service for getting into a fight in a bar.

Also, there was a mysterious businessman from the neighboring city interested in acquiring the vineyard lands to build a luxury spa, but Mihawk beat him to it and wants to preserve the land instead of destroying it.

Meanwhile, the Butler of her niece's best friend, Kaya, is viewed suspiciously by Ghost Rose. She met him briefly years ago; he tried to court her, but she found out he was a violent man and rejected him. Now she's wary of him, but has no evidence against him. In reality, deep down, he's a reformed man who is happy with his current job and life.

Ghost Rose's best friend, Shanks, owns a bar, and although they had a brief affair during some summers when she visited her hometown, they are now just good friends. He likes both men who are in love with her, and enjoys teasing them by calling her by affectionate names. He also likes to orchestrate events where Bogard and Mihawk coincide in their attempts to woo her.

A circus is visiting the town (Cirque du Soleil style) during the time the murders began. Ghost Rose knows them from a time they had a show at the city she used to live. She's friends with one of the circus's stars and the circus owner, Buggy (it-was-just-one-time!!!).

At first, the circus is viewed suspiciously by the authorities because of the coincidence of being there when the murders started, but then one of the acrobats is found dead. Although it is later discovered that it's unrelated to the other murders, but rather an internal drama. Two workers were in love with the main star, and one killed the other out of jealousy.

Still, Ghost Rose notices Buggy is still scared of something. Her friend at the circus confides to her that, to up his circus act, Buggy borrowed money from some business man from the city and it's been paying him back. He was scared that the death of one of his employees was a threat.

Days later, Mr. Merry is found dead in an alley near Kaya's house. The butler, Klahadore, is a suspect because they were seen arguing and is taken into custody to be interrogated.

Kaya stays the next few days at Ghost Rose and Niece home. Kaya doesn't want to believe Klahadore did it, so the girls bring the boys to help with their investigation and if it could be related to the other suspicious deaths.

Later, it's revealed that the death of the Academy janitor was an accident.

The kids find through some secret security cameras from Kaya's house that Klahadore was indeed at home all night, he fell asleep in the kitchen, and couldn't have been the killer. Later, the police find through some street cameras a mysterious burly man running to a car parked in an adjacent street from Kaya’s house that drove away out of town, but there is no clear description of what he looks like.

The investigation of the vineyard employee's death remains open, but Mihawk suspects it was a threat from that businessman from the city, and he worries it could endanger his beloved and Bogard who, despite their rivalry for Ghost Rose's love, has also become a friend. Especially after receiving a package of photos of the three of them, together and separately, walking around the town. Inside, a little key chain with a fluffy pink feather.

Inside his top, Buggy shivers while passing photos of his staff walking various cities they have been to, but most choking, of himself going to the city to pay his debts. After the last one, there’s some odd paper glasses, the likes for watching 3D movies at the cinema, pink in color and with a curious sharp shape.

At the city, the owner of the most exclusive casino contemplates a threatening package filled with photos of himself from years ago, when he was dedicated to more dubious business, his wife and kids, and oddly from that business rival that beat him to buy those vineyards and the clown who owes him money. All wrapped in an obnoxious pink paper adorned with flamingos.

#one piece live action #dracule mihawk #bogard #bogard one piece #x reader #mihawk x reader #bogard x reader #opla mihawk #opla bogard #one piece oc #one piece x reader #one piece au

20 notes · View notes

lexluvswriting · 5 months

Text

ꔫ L'autunno.

☆ Ch: 3 [last page] [next page]

-> Pairing: Eris x ballet dancer!fem!reader.

-> (CW): x fem!reader (she/her), slow-burn, rivals to lovers, tinkle of angst on occasion, fluff, non-specified identity Summer Court!reader, regarding canon ACOTAR time: after defeat of Hybern.

-> (TW): uhm, some slight simmering sexual tension, ig? your first fight w daddy (jk. ur just a bit of a meanie in this chapter i'm afraid), Eris Vanserra is a mumma's boy bc i said so, thank u & good night.

W/C: 3.6 k

╰┈➤ Lex's note: I am SO SO SORRY THAT THIS IS SO LATE EVERYONE!! i've had assignment after assignment after assignment for the last 4 weeks on each friday [which is when i usually write 😵‍💫] I'm posting ch 3 tonight, but i'll have ch 4 and maybe 5 ready tomorrow!!

It had now been three days since receiving the news that you’d be performing for the Vanserra family personally. In that time, you had also discovered a few prominent things to note: the potential financial ruin that would befall the old dance studio if its debts weren’t repaid in time; that Eris Vanserra was a snide, egocentric prick who seemed to like watching you dance an awful amount, and that Eris Vanserra’s personal scent was of smoky woodfire, with a subtle hint of maple- a combination that made your stomach lurch. That last bit was information you were sure you could live without, but from when you two had ‘spoken’ in the hallway of the studio after the raspberry coulis debacle, it lingered in your nose and messed with your head.

It was the fourth day of practice- three days ‘till the Autumn Equinox- so as any normal girl did, you were trying to find reasons not to attend the Equinox, and not to attend the ball afterwards on Eris’ arm. Today to your dismay, he had requested time with you personally, and you were highly suspicious. However, your motherly confidants weren’t hearing a word of it.

“Think of the opportunities, petal! You will have a chance to wear some of the most beautiful dresses in all of the Autumn Court- perhaps all of Prythian! Everyone will be having their sights set on the Equinox in place of Calanmai, so you will be a star!” Primrose gushed, clapping her hands and pressing them together as she swooned- the pot plants to her left accelerating in growth, their blossoms procuring the most vibrant coloured flowers, feeding on her magic as the Spring Court native expressed her excitement.

“If [Y/N] wanted to be a star, she’d go to the Night Court and rendezvous with the lordling there. But she’s not.” Ordelia interjected her wife’s exclamations with a slight frown, taking a brush to your locks as you sat on the floor in front of the fae female. “You cannot possibly try to avoid it now- this would be a wonderful time to show Eris that you are skilled with your body and your mind. Indulge the boy in his dances, let him crow about his achievements, then confront him on what they are doing in the harvest quarter. The cul-de-sacs and the complexes are being raided almost weekly.” She encouraged firmly, wanting you to push forward with bringing up the topic of concern to the lordling. You winced slightly as she raked the brush through your hair as she spoke, yet you let her style your hair neatly.

“This is a chance for you two to discuss important topics, [Y/N]. Ignore the tabloids, and the gossips. You will be with the heir to the Autumn Court- the opportunity to hold his family accountable is staring you blank in the face!”

You sighed, fiddling with some loose fabric on the long, loose sleeve of your blouse. “Even if I were to talk to him, I highly doubt he has the capacity to process what I want to discuss. Besides, this feels stupid- why does he need to spend a whole day with me anyway?”

“Well it would make sense! You’ll be on his arm the night of the actual Equinox- he ought to make sure he knows who he’s dealing with.” Primrose advised helpfully, Ordelia nodding contemplatively behind you, “He might be wanting to look out for your best interests and warn you in advance about Beron.”

Ah, yeah. That tyrant. The arsehole who wrongfully increased the land taxes despite the land being on its last limb during Amarantha’s ‘blight’, merely to make his people work harder with no time for mourning or celebrating. The bastard who is not-so-sneakily declaring an exodus on non-Autumn fae, making every step you took a more calculated one when you’d walk to and from the studio.

After the protests in the streets recently, Primrose stopped sitting on her balcony to watch the sunset, and now Ordelia mostly runs the errands. You’ve been staying over at theirs a lot more too- not feeling comfortable in your own apartment, staring at the certificates recognising your creative and academic ability, thus granting you these pleasures. Not with the small Summer Court trinkets on your shelves despite living in the Autumn Court apartment. You didn’t even feel like a true fae. You felt foreign- like that human girl who was living in the Spring Court all that time. A small part of you wondered if she’d understand these troubles in the human lands too.

You had zoned out, and they both seemed to catch on to the way you went deathly still. Primrose warmed your hands with hers as she pulled you to stand, embracing you. “It will be alright, my petal. Don’t you worry your pretty little head. Just enjoy yourself today, yes? You’re going to be with the lord’s son. Perhaps he’s more than the papers make him to be.”

“He’s a male.” You huffed softly, yet her embrace gave you a small flicker of confidence.

Maybe it would be alright after all.

--- ⋆⁺₊✧˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆ ---

“Are you going to be scowling this much at the Equinox ball?”

“Depends. Will you irritate me this much then?” Whatever Primrose and Ordelia advised for you flew completely out the window as soon as you entered the carriage that waited outside your complex. You had glanced around nervously before climbing in as soon as the door opened, his smug voice welcoming you.

“What are you afraid of? I won’t bite- not unless you’d like me to.”

Your nose wrinkled at his tacky response, but it was truly his foxish grin that unsettled you. In fact, everything about him unsettled you. You truly despised how handsome he was- especially when he was quiet, when he didn’t annoy you. It gave you time to observe him as he looked out the window of the moving carriage. His eyes glimmered in the light of the sun, as if his irises couldn’t decide what colour they wanted to be. His hair reminded you of the brightest, orange leaf you could find. He certainly seemed to emanate the idea of ‘Autumn’- as if he was the physical manifestation. Your stomach lurched as you sobered up to the ‘goo-goo’ eyes you gave him, your lip curling as you huffed at Eris and looked away, causing him to chuckle.

“I didn’t even say anything that time.”

You didn’t deign to respond, sending him a judgemental side glare, as if he wasn’t the noble who was taking you out for the day.

“You ought to be nice to me, lest you incur the wrath of my father. Or myself, for that matter.” His canines flashed as he smiled at you, his body language conveying a silent warning. You snorted softly at the mention of his father, unable to bite your tongue as you crossed your arms,

“And what will he do? Kick me out of his court? Wouldn’t be the first, would I?”

Eris’ face fell, and all sense of mirth- no matter how smug- left his face. He regarded you with a slow, calculating look- his eyes raking over you- before he rolled them, a more snarky, arrogant smirk curling on his lips as he regarded you again, clicking his tongue.

“My, my, what a tongue. Don’t tell me you’re subjecting me to ‘politics’ now. Aren’t you supposed to look pretty and dance?”

“Why am I here?” It wasn’t a question, and you wouldn’t apologise for it as you snapped at him, narrowing your eyes as you sat up straight- as if to strike like a cobra.

“Don’t you listen, darling? I’m taking you out for the day- to get acquainted and what-not. You ought to learn about my family before you insult them as horribly as you insult me- and we’ve only been friends for a day.”

You barked a laugh, almost recoiling in disgust. Friends? I’d rather drink dirty lake water.

“You are also going to be responsible for assisting in a make-shift Calanmai, shall we say.”

Your ears twitched, and you almost lunged for him. “If you’re implying that we are to share a bed, I’d prefer you to kill me right now.”

This time, he rolled his eyes, shaking his head as if you were the idiot in the carriage. “No, darling. Why don’t you listen to me first, before you go off rattling your poor little brain. The Spring Court cannot… ‘deliver’ on Calanmai this year, so the Autumn Court has decided to take up the honour. The Equinox is the night where the magic in our land concentrates the most- so you will be dancing to appeal to the Mother, and invoke a surge of power. Then, we will have a ball, where you get to look pretty on my arm and do some dances for me, in true ballerina fashion.”

“Prick.”

“That naughty tongue of yours- I must say, darling, you won’t last a minute with my father if you keep that up-”

“I could care less for your father.” You cut in, glaring at him with all the contempt you could muster.

“I could care less for him, and you, and your spoilt, sheltered family. You’re all tyrants.” The leash you kept your temper on, which wasn’t doing much before, was on its final thread now. But when Eris watched you in his usual smug amusement, snickering softly as if your disdain for him was comical, it made you lose it.

“See? You laugh because you know it’s true. You’re a spoilt, womanising bastard of a ‘lord’, and I dread the poor girl who has to sire your children. You- like your father, have no respect for your citizens- the natives, and those who came here seeking asylum.”

He inspected his nails boredly while you ranted, nodding along dryly, “Oh, I know. Doesn’t it just eat you up inside?”

“It does, actually. You and your father make no sense. He’s actively driving your people to ruin- upping their land tax when he knows damn well how Amarantha’s blight affected the court’s harvest and vegetation. Your soldiers are pulling families out of their homes in the dead of night, in the middle of the day, kicking them out with nothing but the clothes on their back and for what? Because your father was in the mood for some ‘nationalism’? Mothers, pleading for shelter, their children cold and crying while you all sit back and do nothing- provide no resolutions, no assistance. I don’t even want to imagine how weak and pathetic your mother must be-”

“Hold your fucking tongue.”

A sharp snarl tore through your rant, and in a blink, he had you pinned against the back of the carriage seat. Eris’ breath warmed your face, his canines sharp and pearly enough that you saw your warped reflection in them. His eyes were certainly bright now- as if he had captured the Vanserra fire in his irises, and for a moment you were completely distracted by his pretty eyes before you felt how tightly he gripped your upper arms, the feeling of his fingers digging into your biceps uncomfortably making you snarl as you pushed against him, trying to kick him off. Your body seemed to wake up as his skin made contact with yours; blood rushing in your veins; heart racing- the beats pounding in your ear as your stomach fluttered? Churned? You weren't sure what it was, but you didn’t like the foreign feeling.

“Let me go-”

Unwavering, he kept you in his grasp, his breathing almost uneven, some loose strands of auburn hair curling as they hung in front of his eyes. Everything felt far too amplified as he forced eye contact from you, and you wanted to get away from whatever this was.

“Speak about the Lady of the Autumn Court like that again, and I’ll rip out your fucking tongue.”

You had never been up and close with the Autumn heir- never knew what he looked like when he was angry- never experienced his aggression. But the flutter, the flicker of something that roiled in your lower stomach made you swallow dryly, your eyes locked on his as you silently nodded, your voice soft,

“Fine.”

Your eyes had widened at this point, and to a stranger, it would look like you were a frail deer cornered by a fox. Eris took slow, deliberate breaths to calm himself, his glare deadly as it bore into you in a way that was uncomfortably intimate. You watched his eyes visibly flicker from your own to your lips for a considerable moment, before he pulled away, releasing your arms from his grip as he sat back in his seat, looking out the window- jaw clenched. You both stayed silent for the rest of the carriage ride, yet your eyes never strayed from his jaw for that moment; your stomach fluttered every time he clenched it.

Well, this was certainly a start.

--- ⋆⁺₊✧˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆ ---

You felt the carriage stop, and your head slowly turned back in his direction. At some point, you had turned away, looking out the window as you hugged yourself- your hands resting on your arms, where his hands had wrapped around them. You couldn’t get the feeling of them off you, the area of skin that he touched was still warm even after he had let go ages before. Your mind had raced in that long moment of silence- he certainly took the reputation of his mother seriously. What possibly could have caused that reaction? You had tried to remember what you could about the Lady of Autumn; not that there was much to go off. She barely had a moment in the spotlight, thanks to Beron. You didn’t even know her name- but did anyone? Everything you could remember about her was… muted. As if she wasn’t really there.You thought of the noble female fae again, and remorse trickled in, making you almost flinch at the way it tasted in your mouth. You pictured a lonely woman, married off to a man that made it his mission to evidently mistreat her, and it made something die within you.

“I’m sorry.”

It was quiet, and he didn’t spare you a glance as he opened the door, disappearing out of the carriage before a hand stuck back in, waiting for yours to help you out of the carriage. You hesitated- would it burn? Would it warm your body the way it did when he grabbed you before? You barely had a chance to consider it before he pulled you out as if you weighed nothing more than a feather, his other hand instinctively catching your waist to steady you as your feet touched the ground. Before you could even look up at him, he let go, looking away with indifference that made a small part of you roll your eyes.

“I’m sorry. For insulting you and your family.”

You tried again, toeing at a small pebble on the ground. This was stupid. You felt like a child. And what right did he have to get all upset when it was true what you had said-

“I couldn’t care less what you think of me, nor my father. But you do not speak of my mother that way. Ever.” The seriousness in his tone when he regarded you finally made you stand straighter. There he was. That was Eris Vanserra, heir to the Autumn Court and future Lord, the oldest Vanserra son. This time, there was no arrogance from him when he spoke- nor any barbed retorts from you. You looked at him, squinting as the rays of the sun slightly marred your vision before you shielded your eyes with a hand.

“Where are we?”

“The amphitheatre that will be used for the Equinox. Thought you’d want to see where you’d be performing, lest you accuse me of ‘blind-siding’ you.” He seemed to have resorted back to his snide, playful manner quick enough- yet you were still cautious- still curious.

“I’m not from the Autumn Court.” You blurted out- not in the most cohesive way, of course- shifting your weight from leg to leg as you stayed put as he walked ahead. He sensed that you hadn’t followed and sighed, glancing back at you with a raised eyebrow.

“But you live in the Autumn Court, darling. Forgotten already?”

“No. That’s not what I meant.” You almost felt like a child with the way you responded, and he seemed to pick up on that as he snickered.

“I’m not from the Autumn Court.” You tried again, narrowing your eyes as you watched him roll his ith a dramatic sigh.

“Would you like a medal?”

You ignored him and stepped forward, looking out at the autumn scenery, shivering slightly despite being dressed in warm layers. “Why was I chosen to do this? Wouldn’t it make more sense to have someone of Autumn Court origin?”

“Are you really this ungrateful for such a prestigious opportunity?” The smile in his voice was evident as he goaded you, and you sighed, making your irritation known. He chuckled, clicking his tongue and shaking his head as he grabbed your arm to walk with you, only to sigh happily as you hissed and smacked his hand away,

“Alright, alright- I confess, I picked you personally.”

Well you knew that already.

“Obviously. Why?” You glanced at him as you both walked towards the large stone infrastructure, and he shrugged, the smile on his face evident that he wasn’t going to tell you- or at least, tell the truth.

“You’re pretty. Available. Apparently you’re the best in the Autumn Court. Why wouldn’t I?” He asked sweetly, his saccharine grin making you glare at him before looking forward. His words made your ears redden, yet you tried to ignore his wily charms as you followed.

--- ⋆⁺₊✧˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆ ---

Leaves crunched underfoot as you neared the large amphitheatre where you’d be performing, your eyes widening as you took in the horizon that came into view. The amphitheatre was situated on a tall hill that seemed to overlook all of the Autumn court territory, and even you couldn’t resist the varying hues of red through brown that appeared in the trees, in the reflections of the large lake at the foot of the hill you stood on. As you turned your head, looking back toward the structure, there was a tall, grey marbled statue of a feminine figure with a hood over her head, obscuring her face. In her hands, there was the image of fire, with a stony cauldron at her feet, and at the bottom of the statue was an inscription in a language you didn’t recognise- though you recognised the statuette immediately.

“The Mother.”

“And the Cauldron,” Eris nodded, eyeing the statue with a face you couldn’t read, before he nodded at you.

“You’ll be dancing in front of her, and my family, and probably most- if not all of the Autumn Court, to invoke the magic of the Court and make sure it thrives- isn’t that exciting?” Eris crooned patronisingly, not even giving you time to respond as he walked towards the large stone slab that posed as the main stage.

“And then, you and I will dance, commemorating me, commemorating my family- the one you seem to despise so eagerly- and commemorating the magic that flows through our land. How wonderful.” He sighed, as if swooning over a romantic gesture, and you couldn’t make your irritation more evident.

“Lighten up, won’t you darling?” When his taunt went unanswered, that cunning, manipulative smile curled on his lips again as he walked over to where you were overlooking the Autumn Court.

“I mean it, you know. You ought to be kind to me. I hold the future of your beloved, ratty, worn-down studio in my treasury.” At the threat in his tone, you tensed, scoffing spitefully as you crossed your arms to hide from the chill.

“Threatening me now? Really?”

He shrugged, standing next to you with his hands behind his back as he looked out at the landscape, “Not a threat to you, darling. But to the old studio that seems to be in the way of some projects my father wants to take action on. It would be quite easy to knock down- I even heard a rumour that its owner is behind on payments! Imagine my surprise when your pathetic little instructor grovelled at my feet, begging for a solution.” He shrugged, completely indifferent to the callousness of his character. You, on the other hand, seethed with rage as hot as the sun. It bubbled and simmered, and you pondered how quickly you’d be able to run if you kicked him down the mountain. But instead, you bit your tongue- you two had already gone at each other’s throats today, and it wasn’t even lunch time. Eris took your silence as space to continue, and he chuckled unapologetically as he shrugged,

“Besides, I told your weaselly little ‘mentor’ that if you did not perform to my standards, did not act to my standards, he wouldn’t see the money that was to be rewarded for your service. Although… no money means no payment on the property, which means- Oh! No more dance classes for little [Y/N] [L/N], the prima of her time.” He shook his head, his voice sounding almost sympathetic, though your eyes caught his fiendish grin in your peripheral.

“You really like to hear yourself talk, don’t you?”

“It’s me, darling. Of course.”

“Prick.”

“Don’t push it, darling.”

╰┈➤ Lex's note 2: Ngl guys? this chapter is somewhat of a filler to bridge us to the next bits. I've had lots of writer's block but I persevered for you guys!! it's 1:20 a.m. for me rn and i have classes tomorrow so imma sleep- but pls give this some love, and (NICE) criticism bc i am a sensitive soul <3

#lexluvswriting: l'autunno #lexluvswriting ✏️#eris vanserra x reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #eris acotar #eris fic #eris x reader #eris vanserra #eris vandaddy #lady of autumn #beron vanserra #x female reader #x fem!reader #x female y/n

22 notes · View notes