#hate having to decide between hearing the words and understanding the story

[mayaree-darling]

who's to say what's real or fake// Genshin SAGAU

from aree: impostor au but you actually are the impostor? but ofcourse theres a twist. I think i'll call this FakeGrace!Reader. This was just going to be a headcannon post but ended up a whole fic plot

warnings: themes that all come with the sagau tag (yandere, lots of religious talk, cult, etc.)

word count: 2k~

You end up on Teyvat and immediately the characters recognize you as their Creator; of course you're their Creator - you have the same face, name, and voice. You go through the ordeal of getting to know all the characters all over again and they in turn love you as the god they’ve been waiting for all this time.

You decide that well, this is the world and characters I spent blood, sweat, and tears building (even if it was behind a screen) so might as well help out and do what needs to be done. The people come to you for their problems and you find that they're not as difficult as when you were simply a player. Maybe a minor dispute here and there between the NPCs, but now the vision holders and the Archons ask for your thoughts on how to go about political matters concerning their nations. Even Snezhnaya has signed a peace treaty with the other nations as a show of good faith to the Creator (even if you know for a fact its a temporary one).

All has never been better.

Until another Creator appears in Teyvat, and this one bleeds gold the way their stories foretold. In a way you do not.

The vision holders are torn. Yes, you are an impostor, and they want to hate you for tricking them, but at the same time haven’t you only shown them love? Haven’t you been patient with them and understanding despite being thrown into a world you’re unfamiliar with?

But with careful coercion from the other god, they have to choose to follow their true Creator. You decide to take pity on them and step down from your position yourself, choosing to live with the Aranara who have gladly taken you under their wing (fake god you may be, you are still a friend of the forest, and the forest always remembers its friends).

The Archons tell their new Creator that you are no more. They pretend to not hear when the Creator says they should have brought your head with them, maybe just a bitter reaction for finding out that they have been serving an impostor all this time (the Archons are lying when they say they do not feel sickened at the idea of hurting you, and disgusted at this new God's words)

It soon becomes clear to the people of Teyvat that this new Creator is not you - none of the patience or kindness you had showed them. This new one thinks helping their people is below them, even laughs at some of their problems. They chuck their duties as a god to the vision holders and spend their days leisurely, wining and dining on the best food, expecting to be waited on hand and foot. And at first it was fine, the characters understood. Maybe their Creator was just enjoying the fruits of their labor for once (although in the back of their mind, they can't help but compare you - you who worked tirelessly to attend to everyone even when they’d almost beg you to take a break). The characters tell themselves that they just need to get used to this new god, their true Creator. It will all right itself in time. Even as the Creator acted more like a child by the day, calling for the punishment of characters for the simplest of things. It’s fine. It’s fine.

It didn't take long for their will to break.

The God of Wisdom is called as such for a reason. Nahida may be younger compared to the rest, but she is braver than most. She simply tried to impart a fraction of her wisdom, softly suggesting to the Creator to show mercy for their people who were gravely punished for things they did not do.

This Creator was not you. They did not have a drop of patience that you had, nor any love for their creations. Their god saw this as nothing but an act of treason. How dare a mere Archon tell them what to do? She dares to question who the Creator can and cannot punish?

The silence is deafening in the throne room as the Creator calls for the death of Lesser Lord Kusanali and the destruction of Sumeru. If it is mercy she asks for then it is the last thing she and her people will receive. The other Archons agree past gritted teeth, the sin of Khaenri’ah weighing heavy over their shoulders still.

Nahida had been banished to Sumeru before the order was given, so the Archons make their way to the Nation of Wisdom to tell her of her sentencing, hoping to beg her to ask the Creator for their forgiveness.

This can't be how it ends. Are they to spend their lives in fear of the god they so revered?

They enter a forest emitting divine energy in search of their friend, hearts heavy, but they found something else.

They found you. They found the Creator they loved once upon a time.

They seemed to have caught you mid-conversation with Nahida, and to their surprise (and resentment) the Tsaritsa; they can only assume that the god of Snezhnaya has informed you first of Nahida's fate. The Wanderer catches sight of them and stands in front of you in protection. You don't even bat an eye. You swallow hard and stand, Nahida's hand enveloped in yours, and the other gods would be lying if they say they did not feel jealousy strangling their lungs.

With a steady voice, you tell them that should they take one step against Nahida, you will meet them halfway. If they decide to send Sumeru to hell, they will have to go through you first. You will do everything you can to stop them, and if Sumeru falls then you fall with them.

They don't have to look at the others to make up their mind. There's a beat of silence but first it's Morax, and Beelzebul and Barbatos and then Focalor, and they are on their knees, heads bowed low.

It is only right to show respect to their god, after all. How could they be so blind?

Validation of their actions comes soon after as you let go of Nahida's hand and tell the Wanderer to stand aside. You do something that tyrant of a Creator that sits on a glass throne would never - you kneel before them and hold out your hand.

"Why are you all kneeling? Stand up. I am no longer your god. But I hope you will have me as a friend. Will that be alright?"

There are tears in their eyes as they let out stuttering laughter. Yes, this is their god. Their god with so much love and compassion and a heart that does nothing but bleed for them. A heart that does not ask for them to bleed.

You are their god. You are their true Creator. Golden blood be damned. All that gold has done nothing but blind them.

Eventually, you all end up on the forest floor. You accept the role of a friend as promised, and catch up with them. The Archons are almost in tears as you listen to their stories earnestly, squeezing their hands in sympathy as you listen to the pain they've been through under the rule of their so called Creator (they really should find a new title for you, the god that sits on your throne has sullied your rightful name). At one point they stop telling you stories of their mistreatment, unable to see your face be any sadder than it already was. They take to retelling your stories together, reminiscing better days - because is that not what they have done all this time? Think about the lovely you for every wrongdoing the other god had done in your name?

As you laugh and smile with them and their stories and their company, the idea burrows through their mind without your knowledge, taking root, and they refuse to let it go. Wouldn't it be so much better if it was always like this? Seeing your smiling face with them, a person that deserves to be called a god even more so than all of them combined. Knowing you were safe from harm, not having to defend yourself, especially from them under orders from a tyrant. Knowing you loved them the way they loved you.

It was all better with you.

When you weren't looking, the Archons gave each other knowing looks and curt nods in understanding.

You are their beloved Creator.

As a peaceful silence falls over you, they watch as you smile sadly, their hearts breaking to see such an expression on your face. In a soft voice, you apologize for not being able to do much to help them. When you lift your head, golden resolute eyes meet yours.

"You’ve done enough, Your Grace. Let us handle the rest."

You may have laughed at the old title, but the Archons are hell bent in returning it to you. Although it hurts them to say goodbye, they know it’s only for the moment. Soon, you will be with them. Back in your rightful throne, as you have always deserved.

Nahida is the youngest, and so they decide to spare her the carnage. The rest know she is no fool, they don't need to tell her what they had planned for her to know what happens next. She does not fully agree in the others' decision, yet she stays in Sumeru, promising to make sure you do not find out. Word travels fast to the other vision holders in the form of a breeze from Barbatos. Barely anyone had disagreed with the notion of removing the rejected god from the throne, and those who were hesitant at first changed their mind after hearing how you were ready to go down with Sumeru. Morax and the Tsaritsa lead the rebellion.

A god is only as powerful as the people who worship them. By the time the Archons arrived in the throne room, the Creator had no one to hide behind.

They made it a spectacle. They spin a tale for the people that the god they so worshiped was an impostor who had switched bodies with their rightful god, which explains the gold blood that should be yours. They say you were patiently waiting for them all to come back to you, to remove this impostor from your throne. You were ready to accept them all, they just needed to get rid of this filth that dared destroy your name. The Creator - no, the Impostor - is horrified when the people accept this story so easily, but they only have themselves to blame. Who cares what they have to say to defend themselves, although it’s not like they can anyway - how can they when their tongue was cut off?

Teyvat was silent as gold painted the streets of Liyue Harbor. Teyvat no longer cares for golden blood, not after all the blood and tears it had taken from its people. After all, a golden soul stands ready to take back their rightful place.

Your followers thought it had all been worth it - the pain, the hardships, the blood - to see you smile the first time you set foot outside Sumeru after what felt like years to them. And yet, despite the joyous occasion, you hesitantly turn to them and ask a question not even Irminsul would answer you.

"What happened to the Creator?"

You would be lying if you said the soft smiles each of them gave did not unnerve you as they all said the same thing, like a joke everyone knew all except you.

"We simply removed the Impostor from Your Grace's presence."

They are thankful that you are blinded by your love for them to see the gold shine on their hands. You do not ask about the shimmering streets either. Liyue was the city of gold after all, was it not?

For now, their biggest concern is your acceptance that they are your equal, but that can easily be fixed. You are their friend now, but someday you’ll be their god again. Slowly but surely. They will sit you back in your throne. They will kneel before you again. They will give you the reverence you so deserved.

It will all be yours.

You're their wonderful Creator, after all. Maybe not to you right now. But you always have been for them.

They’ll start from calling you Your Grace. You’d be too kind to tell them off over and over.

You always had been good at adapting.

You had gotten used to it then, you’ll get used to it again.

✨ Masterlist ✨ 

Taglist: 💛@anime-allover  💛@faeriessky  💛 @prksolon 💛 @dai-tsukki-desu

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.

[ghouljams]

same hozier anon from earlier!

i was rereading your viking au and couldn't stop thinking about soap and butchered tongue!? specifically:

so far from home have a stranger call you "darling" and have your guarded heart be lifted like a child up by the hand

of course, hozier is specifically discussing the treatment of indigenous peoples and the wexford rebellion of 1978. but it got me thinking, what was soap's transition into viking life like? what is it like to speak a different language with reader when it's something shared just between them? the first time reader calls soap a term of endearment in his own mother tongue?

imo, andrew made unreal unearth with the intent of forcing us through every circle of hell and then just keeping through it all on a loop. and i thank him for it (what does that say about me).

Viking!Soap and Butchered Tongue is such a winning combination. I absolutely adore that song, it makes me tear up each time I listen to it. We'll get to Soap's backstory, his trauma, in the official story line, but for now yeah I can talk about his transition to viking life.

Strange men speaking in strange tongues, their clothing so different from his own, but their rough hands are the same, the sadness in their eyes is the same. It's human, it's familiar in a way that stings more than the cuts along Soap's face. They don't understand him when he speaks, looking between themselves, talking in quiet tones. The language they speak is rough, like hearing his own sounds jumbled back to him, but Soap's always been quick. Certain words repeat themselves, certain sounds repeated between men questioningly. He can make assumptions.

He tugs the cloak one of them men gave him tighter around his shoulders. He doesn't want to seem weak in front of them, not when they're so clearly attempting to decide what to do with him. A different man pushes the conversation apart with his mere presence, leveling Soap with an icy stare. When he opens his mouth the words that come out are rough and mispronounced, but familiar.

"You want work?"

Soap nods quickly. Work, sure. He's strong, he's smart, he'd do anything to get away from the smell of death that carried him here, he can work. Even if it's hard, even if he hates it, he can work. Anything to get off this godforsaken rock.

What he thought would take months takes mere weeks. Weeks of living with the men that call themselves vikings to pick up enough of their language to converse. "Soap" they call him.

"Because ya needed a bath," Ghost grumbles over dinner one night. Soap laughs, not because it's particularly funny, but because he understands him. It's rueful, almost despairing. He understands him. No one will ever hear the words of the Mactavishes again.

Working helps him adjust. There are things to do to keep his mind off of everything, he learns the words for ship parts before he learns colors. He knows how to count money before he learns how to introduce himself. He knows Price before he learns the word for Captain, learns not to apologize for that. He watches the sun fall, watches it rise again. He teaches Gaz a few words, stops when it makes the ache in his chest grow too big and unavoidable. They get back to his new home and he's given a share of the profits, more money than he's seen in his life. He's given a bed in the long house, warm food, new clothes, he's given a sturdy iron band to wear around his arm, if he wants.

He learns the language, the culture. He adjusts. He translates the next time they're across the sea, trading with people he no longer feels familiar to. A viking wearing his tartan over his shoulders, speaking a familiar tongue, he feels like a stranger in his homeland. He leans against Ghost by the fire, toys with the iron band around his wrist. Strangers to every land but the one that took them in.

He misses his ma.

He doesn't mention it.

He meets you like a ghost of his past. He watches your village burn and sees his own in the smoke. He hauls you off kicking and screaming, in a familiar, painful, tongue. You sound like his memories of home. You sound like the place he's never been able to forget. You mean everything to him, and you hate him.

You won't speak to him, not the way he wants you to, and it's like losing his home all over again.

[petalsnow]

divine & mine (18+)

hyunjin x afab!reader x felix

word count: 3.7k

genre: smut, fluff - 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!

18+ content and smut warnings below the cut.

warnings: non-idol au, marriage au, intended lower-case usage, poly!relationship between reader, hyunjin, & felix, threesome, swearing, alcohol consumption, oral sex (reader & felix receiving), unprotected sex (don't do this), cumming inside (don't do this), impreg kink, praise kink, small mommy kink, dom/sub dynamics, confessions of love.. i think that covers everything, let me know if i missed something!

summary: you decide to celebrate your third wedding anniversary by having a romantic picnic with lots of wine and two horny husbands.

this is a fictional story. nothing in this fan-fiction represents hyunjin, felix, or stray kids as a whole. NOR does it represent their relationships with each other.

read at your own risk.

____

three years have passed since your wedding day. over one thousand days of being cared for and adored by both of your partners.

you had met hyunjin first, he was a regular at the same library you attended every monday, wednesday, and friday. he was a stranger, but he made sure that didn’t last. as each day passed, his stolen glances grew more frequent and his proximity grew closer and closer until you both could be spotted at the same table, quietly bickering over the novel you were both reading.

it wasn’t long after that hyunjin mustered up the courage to ask you out. the library was rigidly silent before hyunjin came out with it, “would you like to come over for dinner tonight? i’ve been dying to try this pasta recipe but it feeds two and i hate leftovers.” his face turning a pale shade of red before everting his gaze from yours.

naturally, you accepted and the rest was history. you two were shamelessly in love ever since.

you two had been together for a year before you met felix for the first time.

you and hyunjin met felix during a night out at a local bar. it was karaoke night and you had enough liquid courage to storm the main stage and sing your heart out to the lyrics of “My Heart Will Go On” by celine dion. Hyunjin admired you from the table you were both sitting at beforehand, sipping on an espresso martini. to his left, stood a blonde-headed boy who was smaller than him, sipping on a beer with his group of friends. The boy was thoroughly entertained by your performance, his laugh like silk as you made a fool out of yourself.

“she’s amazing” he said to his friend, but loud enough for hyunjin to hear, which made him shift his focus from you to the younger boy.

when hyunjin laid his eyes on felix for the first time, his first thought was how beautiful he was. He quickly took note of the freckles that dusted his cheeks, and his light brown eyes.

“after she comes down, you should totally ask her out” felix’s friend suggests with a smirk and a playful shove. felix couldn’t help but giggle and nod.

“she’s mine.” hyunjin spoke up, setting his cocktail down on the table. felix snapped his head in the direction of his voice, his face full of fear.

“oh, mate, i had no idea.. i wouldn’t have said anything if i had known.” he shook his head and pled his case.

“relax, there’s no way you could’ve known.” hyunjin broke his hard facade with a polite half smile. “come sit.” he gestured to the empty chair across from him.

felix visibly gulped and slid into the chair.

“what’s your name?” hyunjin asked, leaning forward to hear over the music.

“felix.. lee felix” the blonde replied quickly.

“hyunjin,” he said, holding his hand out for a truce.

felix met his hand and shook gently with an awkward nod.

“i like you.” hyunjin admitted

felix had a look of confusion painted across his face.

“i think you’re cute.”

“.. but didn’t you just say..”

“we’re open.”

felix still didn’t understand.

“we have an open relationship, and i think you’re cute” hyunjin clarified.

felix choked on his beer.

“oh, um..” he wasn’t sure how to respond.

before hyunjin could continue, you were stumbling back over to the table.

“hey baby!!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms around hyunjin’s neck. “i missed you” you giggled drunkenly.

hyunjin couldn’t help but laugh as he placed an arm around your waist.

“this is felix, we just made friends.” hyunjin said, turning you slightly to face the timid boy.

“hi” felix almost whimpered, offering a small wave.

“y/n, nice to meet you phoenix” you replied with a toothy smile.

“oh, that’s not-“ felix started before hyunjin interrupted him

“i was just asking if felix wanted to come home with us tonight, what do you think angel?” he asked, tucking a small piece of hair behind your ear.

immediately, you knew where this was headed and the realization was mildly sobering.

you looked back over at felix, taking him in completely this time, before looking back at your boyfriend.

“that sounds lovely.” you answered sweetly. “what do you think, freckles?” you cocked your head at felix.

felix looked absolutely mortified, like a deer in headlights. Nevertheless, he slid out of his chair and looked between both of you

“let’s get out of here.”

That was over three years ago, and today you are all celebrating your third wedding anniversary.

The whole thing was hyunjin and felix’s idea, they were truly the most lovesick pair you had ever seen. they were almost frantic in your kitchen, shoving expensive wine into the picnic basket and perfecting the charcuterie board for your date.

you had just finished getting ready, a flowy, snug fit sundress and a head full of loose curls. little did you know you were walking into a disaster of a kitchen.

“guys what the fuck happened in here? it looks like a tornado flew around the kitchen.” you gasped, looking at the mess they had made in preparation for your celebration.

felix was boxing up the last few finger foods before waltzing over to you to place a kiss on your temple.

“don’t worry about any of this, me and hyune will clean it up whenever we get back, mkay?” he reassured you, filling his arms with food and drinks to bring to the car.

you grinned and shook your head before reaching out to grab some of the load, but hyunjin yanked it from your grasp.

“what do you think you’re doing? what kind of husband makes his wife carry her own anniversary gift?” he looked viscerally offended. “go wait in the car my love” he cracked, shooting you a dashing smile and a wink.

you playfully pinched his hip as he brushed past you before heading to the car like you were instructed. felix was waiting outside of the car with the door ajar, waiting to help you inside with an out stretched hand.

“wow, so formal today.” you smirked, taking his hand and climbing into the car.

“always the best for our princess.” he smiled, waiting for you to get comfortable, before gently closing the door.

____

the ride was long, but only because your date was a picnic in a secluded field of flowers.

whenever you arrived, hyunjin and felix worked quickly to lay a large quilted blanket down and set up your lunch.

you thanked them for everything before sitting down between them.

you ate together and emptied wine glass after wine glass. you talked of the past and of the future, and of how much you adored one another.

“i bet if we had kids they’d look exactly like me and have y/nnie’s attitude.” hyunjin teased, propping himself up on his side while plucking grapes off their vine. He delicately placed one in each of your mouths.

“hey, what is that supposed to mean?” you gasped with your mouth full of grapes and slapped his arm playfully.

“it just means they’d be so kind and so sweet and so perfect and not sarcastic, short-tempered, or sassy at all!!” felix mocked as you landed another playful slap, now into his arm.

“you’re one to talk” you rolled your eyes as the laughter died down slowly

“in my defense, i only have an attitude around you guys if i’m trying to have it fucked out of me.” felix shrugged nonchalantly, causing both you and hyunjin to grow wide-eyed and cough at his suddenly bold statement.

“jesus, lix” hyunjin placed a hand over his mouth, trying his best to finish his last bite of food

“at least he’s honest” you added, resting back on your palms

felix blushed smugly at your reactions before picking the original conversation back up

“i would love to have children one day..” he added with shyness laced in his voice

you and hyunjin’s attention shifted to him at the sudden seriousness

“you would?” you asked sweetly

felix nodded, toying with a blade of grass near his hand

you looked over at your other husband, who then looked back at you. you weren’t sure why, but these kinds of conversations always made it difficult for you to navigate. Although you all loved one another equally, whenever it came to the discussion of starting a family, the reality of things had to be faced. Hyunjin, knowing how you are, spoke up first.

“let’s have a baby then,” he said before taking another sip of wine.

this made your heart race as you looked between both of them.

“but-“ you began and felix cut you off this time.

“i don’t care who the father is. The way i see it, we’re all three connected and we would all love the baby the same regardless.” felix offered, trying to soothe your anxious state.

you took a deep breath as the tension built upon itself.

“i’m sorry, i just wasn’t really expected to talk about this today. I apologize for my hesitation. Of course, I would love to have children with you, but only if we’re all sure.”

hyunjin and felix chuckled, sitting up.

“i don’t think we’re ever been more sure of anything in our lives, angel” hyunjin smiled before placing a tender kiss to your lips and running his hand up your thigh.

felix wasn’t far behind him, moving your hair to place an open-mouth kiss to the side of your neck as you sat in between the two men.

you closed your eyes in pleasure, melting into their touches. as hyunjin left your lips you spoke up

“what, are you guys going to knock me up in this field?” you laughed sarcastically, waiting for them to catch on. Instead, the two boys turned their attention to each other with twin calculating looks in their eyes and then back over to you.

“yes,” they said in unison, hyunjin returning to your lips and felix back to your neck.

you moaned into hyunjin’s mouth at the realization and instinctively parted your legs ever so slightly.

even though the movement was quaint, felix took note and moved his hand up your inner thigh gently as he kissed down your collarbone.

“may i?” felix broke the silence, fingers dancing dangerously close to your panties.

hyunjin broke the heated kiss at his question.

“what do you say, pretty girl?” he glanced at felix, and back into your pleading eyes.

“please,” you whined, opening your legs more for felix to fit in between and get to work.

felix hummed and tugged your lace panties down your legs, discarding them nearby. Bring his mouth to your heat, kissing your clit softly to let you know he was starting.

your breath hitched in your throat as hyunjin moved to support you from behind, your back resting against his chest as you got comfortable.

“that’s it, baby, relax” hyunjin cooed in your ear, running his hand up your side.

felix wasted no time licking away at your cunt. his arms were wrapped around your thighs, his thumb rubbing at your clit.

eating you out had to be felix’s favorite thing to do. he could spend all day pleasing you, hearing you cry out for him.

your wetness was dripping down his chin and he loved how filthy it made him feel.

“you taste so sweet” he groaned, entranced by you and the way you responded to him. he moved one hand from your thigh and brought two fingers up your heat, running them down to collect some lubrication.

“look at that, you’re in for a treat darling.” hyunjin half-whispered into your ear, brushing the straps of your dress off your shoulders to allow him access to your breasts.

felix blushed at his husband’s comment before dipping the first finger into your pussy.

felix slowly pumped his finger in and out of you while hyunjin pushed your dress down to reveal your chest. he hummed at his success and began toying with your nipple between his slender fingers.

your back arched at the new sensation and it caused you to clench around felix’s fingers.

“feel good?” hyunjin questioned, pinching your nipple gently.

“fuck, yes. you both feel so amazing.” you whimpered out, clinging to the picnic blanket that laid underneath all of you.

felix had resumed eating you out, adding another finger to fuck into you, growing more eager by the second.

hyunjin brought one of his hands up to his mouth to spit into his palm before bringing it back down over your nipple, swirling the saliva over the sensitive bud.

“hyunjin…” you sighed blissfully, arching your back into his touch.

felix had completely zeroed in on your cunt, fucking his fingers into you at a steady pace while lapping at your clit

“i need you to cum on my face” felix whined desperately, only detaching himself long enough to utter the one sentence.

you groaned at his words and hyunjin’s massage

“i’m close” you mewled, knuckles growing white from your tightening grip

“let go for us, be a good girl.” hyunjin cooed, never ceasing his movements.

that’s all it took for you to twitch and release all over felix’s fingers and his face. He wasted no time licking up anything that missed him and left a trail of kisses across your lower half.

“fuck, that was so hot” felix growled, sitting up between your legs.

“let me taste her.” hyunjin ordered, gripping the young boy by the back of his head and crashing their lips together.

You watched as your husbands made out just above your head, the remnants of your release dripping down from their lips and onto your bare chest.

you always had a lingering sense of guilt, for no reason that you could pinpoint. Both of them catered to you more than they catered to each other, and that always made you feel a little strange. you always hoped they weren’t sacrificing anything to be in this kind of relationship. But it was times like these, watching them melt into each other's touch, that you felt your heart swell, and you could relax, knowing they loved each other, too.

the kiss ended and hyunjin moved out from behind you to face you now.

“you ready for us, doll?” hyunjin asked softly, rubbing your cheek with his thumb.

you nodded as felix removed his shirt and began undoing his pants to slip them off.

“words, y/n” hyunjin reminded you, waiting patiently for your approval to remove his clothes

“always ready for you.” you smiled, tugging on the hem of hyunjin’s shirt and he wasted no time removing it over his head and then discarding his pants as well.

felix helped you lie down on your back while hyunjin positioned himself between your legs and felix positioned himself behind your head.

“you okay if i use your mouth while hyunjin fucks you?” felix asked softly, stroking his hard cock.

“of course, lixie wanna taste you.” you nod and lean your head back to make it easier on him.

he blushed at the nickname and looked at hyunjin.

“you can start, wanna make sure she’s okay before I stuff her mouth full.” felix chuckled and you rolled your eyes playfully.

hyunjin said nothing, too focused on the way you looked beneath him. he slid the head of his cock up and down your slit experimentally, gathering your wetness before pushing into you slowly.

you whined at the stretch and felix ran his fingers over your cheek, consoling you.

“you doing okay sweet girl?” hyunjin asked, halting his movements.

“yes, yes i’m perfect baby.” you nodded frantically “please give me more,” you begged

hyunjin moaned as he pushed deeper into you, moving your legs to wrap around his hips.

felix took that as his signal to push his cock into your mouth, his eyes rolling back at the warmth, slowly fucking his cock into you.

“fuck baby, how are you still so tight?” hyunjin mewled, throwing his head back, licking his lips

you moaned around felix’s cock as hyunjin’s hips sped up, your body felt like it was floating from the overstimulation.

hyunjin and felix both reached for your tits, hands brushing over each other before they both claimed one, teasing you once again.

“fuck, hyune, i don’t think i’m gonna last.” felix whimpered out to the other boy.

hyunjin was still trying to compose himself, biting his lip between moans

“you don’t have to hold on lixie, we have all day.” hyunjin squeezed the other boy’s pinkie, reassuring him.

felix whimpered, his hips speeding up, repeatedly hitting the back of your throat.

“baby i’m gonna cum, can i come in your mouth? please please, can i?” he stuttered

you moaned out in approval, back arching off the ground.

felix’s hip shuddered, his warm milky release filling your mouth, you swallowing it up without hesitation.

hyunjin’s pace quickened, fucking into you deeper and harder.

your eyes were brewing tears, gasping for air.

“y/n, i’m gonna cum. i’m gonna cum inside of you, are you ready for me?” hyunjin growled, placing his hands on your hips to stabilize himself.

“please, need you to fill me up. please hyune.” you mewled, finding felix’s hand and holding onto it tightly.

“fuck- i’m cumming.” hyunjin confirmed, landing sharp thrusts into your cunt, filling you to the brim.

felix wiped the tears off your cheeks and caressed your cheeks as you came down.

“you’re such a good girl, y/n. our perfect girl.” felix praised sweetly.

hyunjin leaned down and kissed your lips sweetly, leaving a few stray kisses on your neck after.

“did so good. you’re so good for us.” hyunjin breathed out, slowly pulling out of you.

you smiled beneath them and leaned into felix’s hand.

“can i feel you too lixie?” you looked up innocently at the freckled boy.

he looked surprised, “are you sure baby? that was a lot just now.”

you nodded, sure of yourself. “want you too.”

hyunjin chuckled at your cute exchange.

“felix, switch places with y/n,” he instructed, moving back so you two had room to do so.

felix obeyed and laid down on his back, his cock soft due to his release.

you sat next to felix, waiting for hyunjin’s instruction.

hyunjin moved in between the younger boy's legs, leaning down to kiss him.

felix whimpered into hyunjin’s lips, both their cocks growing hard once again at the contact. felix’s hands found purchase in hyunjin’s hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss.

you watched in awe, running your soft hands up the side of felix’s leg.

hyunjin let him go, smirking.

“my turn.” you smiled, leaning down to capture felix’s lips this time.

felix smiled into your kiss, his lips tasted like hyunjin and wine.

hyunjin took advantage of the distraction and spit into his palm, rubbing the lubrication over his head and felix’s opening.

hyunjin lined his cock up with felix’s hole and slowly pushed forward.

felix squealed into your mouth at the unexpected intrusion. it startled you so you looked toward hyunjin and quickly picked up on what was happening.

“hyunjin! it was my turn!” you complained, looking at him in belief.

felix became a moaning mess as hyunjin began fucking into him.

“fuck, hyung, you’re so big.” he all but screamed out.

“baby, it’s still your turn.” hyunjin chuckled “come on, climb in front of me.” he pulled you onto felix.

“oh fuck-“ felix realized what was going to happen “i, oh-fuck, i can't handle-“ he couldn’t finish his sentence.

you followed hyunjin’s guidance and lowered yourself onto felix’s length, earning a loud cry from the pitiful boy below you.

hyunjin held onto you while he fucked deeper into felix, and set the pace for you to ride your shared partner.

you toyed with felix’s nipples as hyunjin held onto you as if he owned you, biting into your neck and shoulders and your hips moved up and down.

felix was seeing stars, his eyes were rolled back into his skull and his breathing was staggered, completely encapsulated by you and hyunjin’s movements.

“lix- you’re - fuck - you’re so perfect.” you praised him, resting your palms on his chest now

“feels perfect too” hyunjin chimed in.

all felix could do was groan out, still not being able to focus on anything.

“are you gonna cum for us baby boy?” you whined, staring at his fucked out expression

he nodded quickly

“gonna make our girl a mommy?” hyunjin added.

felix squealed out and thrusted his hips upwards as he came in you without warning.

you moaned out and hyunjin did the same, finishing inside the smaller boy.

everyone was catching their breath at the same time, you picked yourself off of felix and fell onto the blanket next to him, chests heaving.

hyunjin pulled out of felix slowly and gently, making sure not to hurt him.

after a minute or so of regaining composure, the silence was broken.

“happy anniversary, my pillow princesses.” hyunjin giggled with his bunny smile, leaning over the two of you to place playful kisses on both of your flushed faces.

you and felix both blushed and wiped your faces after his wet kisses.

“happy anniversary.” you smiled at them both, pulling hyunjin down so you could lay in between them.

“i’m so glad you were horrendous at karaoke.” felix challenged and quickly hid his face, awaiting your retaliation, which immediately came after.

“felix! that’s so mean! oh my gosh!” it was hyunjin’s turn to chime in, giggling sweetly.

you laughed as the boys began to playfully fight over you. you looked over at your left hand, where a small golden band hugged your finger.

you sighed happily as their bickering continued,

you were in love.

the end.

[sunofpandora]

Virago: Chapter 3

Neteyam x fem na’vi!omaticaya!reader

Characters:

Ka’lik- (like you would pronounce “Malik”) Y/n’s father, deceased, a warrior and hunter of the 

omaticaya clan. A teacher to young warriors undergoing iknimaya.

Zensira-deceased, Y/n’s mother, spider's adoptive mother, a strong hunter and the best singer in the omaticaya clan, and a teacher to young hunters.

Kailo-(Y/n’s ikran. Your ikran is a male)

Popiti-(tuk’s best friend according to the visual dictionary)

(Also idk how many of you know this but Jake’s ikran’s name is canonically ‘Bob’.)

(WARNINGS!

Sharing a sleeping hammock with the opposite gender (non-romantically)-

Neytiri hating on spider/ mentions of insecurities, heartbreak, war,/ fluff/ angst/ mentions of hunting, killing animals, mentions of therapy, military, ptsd, romance, pining, use of military terms/codewords/  fluff ending!

Let me know if I missed anything.

Chapter desc:

Kiri convinced y/n to unload some of her lingering feelings for Neteyam. Y/n reveals that the incident all those years ago that took her parents scarred her deeper than she could have ever anticipated. Is this a battle the mighty archer can’t win? Neteyam has a confrontation with a pathetically simpering Kyuna. 

Authors note:

Here we go! Chapter 3!! It feels insane to be posting the actual third  chapter of this. But holy moly, building up romance is much harder than I thought. This chapter is a long one so grab your favorite snack, find a comfy spot and buckle up. 

I have a small request for my lovely virago readers, please comment on your favorite line, moment, quote, or dynamic from this chapter. This is so I can know what kind of stuff you guys incline towards so I can throw more of it in as the story continues.

IMPORTANT:

hi guys. So I’ve decided to change spiders age from 20 to 19 for plot purposes. Jake and Neytiri are the same age. Tuk is still 7. Kiri is 19, neteyam is 19, Lo’ak and Y/n are 18.

This chapter is split into 3 parts due to tumblers dumbass word limit. This is part 1.

                                                                   V I R A G O         

Chapter 3;

Cupid Wears A Blindfold.

Y/n’s pov-

Word count: 28k (split)

Lo’ak snores. He snores a lot.

This was no epiphany to you, of course. Lo’ak had always been a snorer, much like Jake.

Ever since the sully’s welcomed you into their home when moving to high camp, sleeping arrangements were always abit of a puzzle.

Tuk often slept in all sorts of weird positions. Often rustling and twitching in her sleep. Some nights she nestles her way in between Jake and Neytiri, the poor couple waking up to an elbow jabbing into their skin.

Kiri was your second best option. She didn’t toss or turn, she didn’t kick or jab or roll. Your only deterrent? Kiri mumbled. Oftentimes talking in her sleep to some soft sung spirit she felt within her own solace, her own safety, her own world.

This never found itself to be a disturbance for you. You didn’t mind the mumbling. Kiri however, claimed ‘she loved you too much to keep you up at night’, and wouldn’t hear a word of it when you tried to convince her that it didn’t bother you.

But it wasn't completely in favor of your sleep schedule. Kiri liked her privacy. And you knew that. Better than most, actually. But that’s what was special about your bond with Kiri. You didn’t need words to understand her. And she loved you for it.

I don’t think I need to explain why sharing a hammock with Jake and Neytiri seemed out of the question.

And though most nights it seemed tempting, sleeping with Neteyam was a no-go.

And here you laid. Staring at the ceiling of the Sully family’s tented Marui home, while everyone slept, you damned yourself restless. 

Lo’ak kept snoring in your ear, his breath hitting your neck.

His arm lazily thrown above both your heads, his leg sprawled across your shins. You huffed, attempting to turn the opposite way. The uneven weight caused the tent to dip unanticipatedly, causing you to gasp. Your hand reaches towards the wall to steady the motion, and to prevent you and lo’ak from falling.

You squeezed your eyes shut, taking a breath before shifting yourself evenly again, and Lo’ak continued to snore, his tail now poking your hip. 

Your ears perked up at the sound of a soft rustling, and a gentle yawn.

“Y/n?”

You turn your head, seeing a sleepy Kiri blink at you slowly, her bright golden eyes adjusting to the light.

“What’re you doing up?”

She rested on her elbows, elevating herself a bit to see you more clearly.

You sighed, glancing back at Lo’ak.

“Oh. You know. Just doing a little late night praying. Praying that eywa will take me before his snoring does.”

Your blank tone made Kiri giggle, stifling her laughs with her palm.

“Oh trust me. I've shared a tent with him longer than you have.”

Silence draws between you both as your quiet chuckles slowly start to simmer away under the dark tent top.

Kiri sits up slightly, gesturing with one hand for you to come closer.

You shake your head, hesitantly treading her offer. You knew how kiri liked her distance.

“I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You? A bother? Y/n, you’re probably the person in this entire tent that bothers me the least.”

You crack a smile, huffing out a small sigh of defeat.

You slip out of your hammock, slithering your way over small objects that became obstacles on the floor with stealthy yet lethargic motions. of the family’s home before successfully snuggling under the blanket of kiri’s larger hammock. Now comfortable without the cramped positioning.

She chuckled, rubbing your back. 

“Comfy?”

You nod, smiling at her.

“You're a lifesaver, Kiri. My hero.”

She ruffles your braids, winking.

“Nah. If anything, you are my hero.”

Kiri and you have always been close, ever since you were children. Your mother and Neytiri were practically attached at the hip, and since you, spider, and lo’ak were always a package deal, you and kiri had grown up playing together.

Kiri was softer spoken as a child, and you were loud and energetic. Your mother always said you were an ocean, and kiri was a lake. You, a soul syncing with the vigorous symphonies of azur-string reprised tidelines and honey-hidden siren songs. The ocean forgives, but it never forgets. Its strength is unmeasured. It waits for nothing.

Kiri was a lake. Lush green ripened grass sits along yellowed-tinted sun hazed stems of oddly-shaped wildflowers and imperfect patterns imprinted on petals. She was calm in the still moving water. You were the strength of the sea. 

You always felt protective over Kiri. 

A part of you couldn't help it. The day you and Kiri grew closer was the same day Jake had to meet with the Olo’eyktan of the Tawkami clan. The day the Chief’s children were teasing Kiri about her fingers. You and Kiri were about 8 at the time, and she really only saw you play around the village or carrying spider on your back as you trailed behind your mother and her daily chores. Or when your mom walked Lo’ak back to his family’s hut the morning after a sleepover with you and spider.

The day the Tawkami Chief’s children that accompanied him were picking and poking at Kiri’s fingers.

And where were you? Right there beside her. Threatening to feed the children to your mother’s ikran and telling them that your human brother would come and give them his demon blood “diseases” if they didn’t leave her alone.

They stopped picking on her, and she stuck by you from then on. Cause no one knew how to better handle bitchy 9 year olds than you did.

Kiri yawns, gently rolling on her side.

“Get some sleep, Y/n.”

You mumbled an ‘mhm’ before letting your eyes drift shut.

Its been about 15 minutes and sleep still evades you. The comforting vibrations of kiri’s warmth doesn’t seem to lull you like you assumed it would.

“Are you awake?”

Kiri whispered, and it startled you a bit. You assumed she was asleep.

You turned to face her and nodded. Her yellow eyes glowing evergreen tints in the darkness.

“Yes. But don’t let me keep you from sleeping, Kiri.”

She shrugs.

“I can’t sleep either.”

You both stay quiet for a moment, letting the silence settle.

 “So, Makeyo spoke with you today?”

The same uneasy feeling returns once again, you blink at Kiri.

You shook your head, your voice quiet as if not to disturb the air around you two.

“We were just talking.”

“About?”

Her whisper courses against the flicker of change in the wind.

You stay quiet once again. Not because its awkward, or uncomfortable.

Sometimes, you felt like there was a shackle chained to your wrist.

The memory of your parents still haunts you.

It shaded you in its prison of night, torturing you to watch the sunlight, but never touch it.

You didn’t love anyone.

And yet, whenever someone offered you their hand, it felt like a trap.

A mockery of betrayal climbs your conscience. It's a hue of warm yellow, drenched in crimson and an agonizing black.

Jake told you that back on earth, he fought with other humans in a war that seemed like it would never end.

Sometimes people come out of bloody experiences constantly trying to wash their body because the smell of blood never leaves their nose.

Jake said it haunts you. Like a ghost. Some of the men he met would wake up screaming in the middle of the night. They wouldn’t laugh as much. Smile as much. What once was a comfort was now a cold, daunting piece of lost memories.

It's everywhere. And it hurts. What hurts most is that you  can't protect yourself from it. Your arrows cannot pierce it. your hands cannot fight it away. 

It’s real in some uncanny sense of a nauseating nostalgia. The type of memory that makes you thin your eyes because it's too bright.

An invisible devotion, it holds you above its disposal.

It keeps you away from falling in love. From holding someone's hand. From laughing at another’s jokes. 

Sometimes you hate what you are. What  you’re made out of. Because your soul constantly fights to build yourself out of ripped pieces of the past.

Because all you ever hear is whispers about where that happy little girl went. The girl who chased sun-dripped river banks with the symphony of children’s laughter.

This pain follows you. 

When you wake from your nightmare’s it’ll sit in the corner. Watching you.

When someone flirts with you, touches your shoulder, brushes a strand of hair out of your face, it’ll be there.

What was the use of falling in love? As a child, you fantasized about having a love like your parents. So pure, so deep, so unexplainably perfect.

Only for them to die because of something you couldn't protect them from.

It’s not that you feared death. You feared the instantaneousness of it.

The unforeseen figment of a shape only for it to reveal itself to be a scythe.

They didn’t know it would happen, and neither did you.

And you weren’t fucking there. And now they are gone.

Never getting to watch you or spider grow to be full adults.  

Leaving their children without so much as a goodbye.

Your only true goal was to die honorably on the battlefield. If you couldn’t find peace, maybe your ghost could.

Love was a weakness.

And when you fall in love, the shell of that pain will disguise itself under their soul.

You  shrugged, your eyes averting away from Kiri. There's disconnected fatigue in your tone.

“He was nice.”

“Just nice?”

Kiri raises her eyebrow, scooting a bit closer to you.

You  sighed, unsure of how to carry on this conversation. So you’re grateful when she does it for you.

“He’s a good guy. I've seen him help you teach the younger kids. They love him, always trying to climb on his back and asking him to carry them around.”

You nod.

“He’s a good teacher..”

you trail off, fidgeting with one of 

Your  bracelets. The one tuk made you, the one with mismatched bead sizes and colors. Juvenile plotted patterns in the small vibrant hues.

Kiri snickers.

“He might have to get in line with all your other eager suitors.”

you roll your eyes, poking her with your tail.

It wasn't unusual that Kiri teased you about getting attention. 

Lo’ak’s friends sometimes whisper, quietly laughing and shoving each other as you walk by. It becomes hard not to notice as it becomes a frequent pattern.

Sometimes the guys in the hunting party Neteyam was often in, gently tapped each other on the shoulder, more subtly gesturing as you walked around camp or left for a ride, or even just helped with daily chores.

Their attempts usually deem themself futureless when Spider and Lo’ak glare at them, shoo them away the same way you would a pestering flock of birds.

Its a normality. Though spider was only a year older than you, he policed your love life just the same as any older sibling would. He didn't care that you were taller, stronger, bigger than him.

You scoffed.

“They’ll have to get through dumb and dumber first.”

Kiri huffed, annoyed with the two idiots in question.

“Don’t trust their judgment. They share one singular brain cell and it malfunctions half the time.” 

The both of you laugh, trying to keep quiet. You bury your face in Kiris shoulder as the hammock shakes with your giggles.

You both sigh after a moment, still smiling.

“I can’t blame them.  You’re perfect.”

She whispered.

There's a withering sense of somber behind her voice. It lacked bitterness, but it simmered on a ember, an ephemeral flicker of blue. The sounds of sloshed ash-blue sunsets and burnt-orange auras.

“I am not.”

You mumbled.

Kiri looked up at the top of the tented-hut. The small sparks of comforting vibrations from your bodies nuzzled under the woven blanket that allows only the softest of shivers to seize past the fabric.

“You remind me of my mother. The stories of her in her youth. The perfect woman. Strong, admired, sought out by many, envied by most..”

She trailed off.

If only kiri knew you didn’t feel like that at all.

“You’re my idea of perfection, Kiri.”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes.

Kiri was pretty. You had to remind her of that sometimes. The way her golden eyes shined under a sheet of jaded-glowing evergreen, that of a hued green in a canvassed jungle canopy. Her uneven, choppy, imperfectly, perfectly shaped bangs that fell over her forehead, gentle wisps of dark feathered thick strands.

Kiri’s hair was slightly lighter than most na’vi women. You loved that about her, the almost dark auburn shades of brown that hollowed in chalked streaks of a honeyed glow, proving herself her biological mother’s daughter.

But the one thing you adored most about Kiri?

Her love for Eywa.

You could only envy it.

After the death of your mother, your once undying devotion for the great mother started to rot. You felt like she had failed you. Taken away the most precious piece of your soul and damned her name for tearing you apart and leaving you to pick up the pieces. 

You were angry those first few months, and you think differently now. But your breath still shallows at the thought.

Your smiles fade, and the air around you feels hollow for a moment.

“I wish i could see through your eyes, kiri.”

Kiri squeezed your hand, gently holding it to her chest.

“I know you’ve been hurt, Y/n. I know this pain is great..But the great mother has a plan for you. I believe it above all else.You are strong. Stronger than any spirit she has seen…You bring the wailing ash and fire of the demon ships to pity with just your arrowhead. We will heal together, y/n. I will teach you to find your faith again.”

You let your eyes flutter closed.

Your beautiful, sweet Kiri. This wasn’t romance. This was sisterly love in its purest form.

“..Do you ever think about him?”

The question stills you, you looked up at her and blink.

“Who?”

“My brother.”

The comforting warmth suddenly becomes a sweltering heave of heat. You swallow thickly, looking down.

“No.”

Kiri shakes her head.

“Please. Don’t lie to me, Y/n.”

There it is again, the hole in your heart.

“Yes. I think of him sometimes.”

Silence settles again.

“Is it wrong?”

You whisper.

Kiri shakes her head.

“No. its just that he doesn't deserve to live in your mind.”

Kiri loves her older brother. She truly does. But she was right beside you when he drifted away. Even ignoring him because she was angry with how he had treated you.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, cupping her hand in yours.

“I hate it.”

“Hate what?”

“How i feel like a piece of me is missing.”

Kiri’s eyes soften.

“Oh y/n…”

“No.”

Your voice breaks only slightly.

“No. because im better now.

I hated him. I hated his hands. I hated his voice. I hated his back. I hated his arms. I hated his neck. I hated his nose. I hated his ears. I hated when he promised to protect me, I hated when he left me crying in the rain. I hated that I waited for him. I hated that he promised all the stars in the sky were mine. I hated him.

I don’t hate him anymore. I hate the delusions of himself he put inside my head.

I hate how he weakened me.”

Kiri gently brushed some of your braids behind your shoulder

“Heartbreak doesn’t make you weak. If anything, it shows we had something inside of us so beautiful and rare it was worth mourning.”

You blinked back the fresh sting in your eyes. Taking a shaky breath.

“Oh my dear.”

Kiri whispered, hugging you close.

“Get some rest. You don’t need to think about anything right now, I promise.”

You nodded.

“Yeah. yeah okay.”

“You know what? In the morning let’s go bother norm for a bit. Would that make you feel better?”

You chuckled, hugging her back before you both settled in respective places in her hammock.

“It always does,”

Sleep soon found you, taking you in its arms and soothing the sweet darkness.

Across the tent, Neteyam laid awake, his hands clutching a blanket of his own, his body still tensed after what he had just heard.

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ 

The next day.

You liked hunting with Jake.

It was high on your list of some of the chores you enjoyed contributing with your new found life in high camp living with the sullies.

Spending time with jake was a bonus. Jake and your family went way back. Your mother was one of the only navi that welcomed him upon his unexpected arrival. She was the one who lended him an older loincloth for him to wear that first night he was captured and the omaticaya took away his RDA uniform, and while he had his first ever meal with the clan at high camp. 

Your mother also played a huge role in his journey to become a man of the omaticaya people.

Teaching him things like weaving, beading, and some of the language along with Neytiri.

Your mother was the one who constantly pestered neytiri about her growing feelings for the dreamwalker, helping her unbraid her hair for the nights he spent with jake, letting her cry, laugh, scream, like any good sister would.

Your mother and Neytiri mourned sylwanin together. And your mother grew closer with Mo’at and eytukan as mentors as well, despite neytiri and your mother not being sisters by blood, they loved each other just the same.

Jake and you had a good relationship. Jake often helped train the younger warriors, neteyam, you and lo’ak included.

You were always the fastest, the strongest out of the group, since you were 15.

Jake remembers when you were small. Carrying spider around and chasing lo’ak, bringing gifts to baby tuk, playing in the flower patches with neteyam and making him wear the bracelets and crowns you would braid out the stemmed petals.

Jake was there with you when your parents died, and he ws there when you moved into highcamp with the sully family.

He was there when you had nightmares and woke up in the middle of the night screaming,

You remember those nights, when the images of your mothers body would rip you from your sleep and you’d almost shake poor lo’ak out of the shared hammock with your sobbing and pleading.

You remember jake rushing to you, gently holding you by your shoulders, gently utting your head to his chest.

‘Sweetheart hey- hey i’m here. Mawey, Mawey..easy- easy…there we go. Deep breaths..’

The hoarse tiredness in his voice as oddly comforting.

You remember shaking your head, settling yur breathing as the tears began to flow.

“I-i’m sorry..it was just another bad dream.”

“Hey. never apologize for having a nightmare. You’re okay. You’re safe here. Okay? C’mon. Let's take a walk-that’ll calm you down.”

You trusted jake. You always have. Even today, in the present. So of course you liked hunting with him.

But most of all? You loved flying.

Your ikran was your spirit brother, sometimes even following your commands without tsaheylu. 

The bond you had was strong, stronger than most ikran’s are capable of.

And the best part? He had a temper just like you did. The first time you almost met death was your iknimiya. 

Your ikran threw you off the cliff, and then flew down to attack you further.

Jake and Neytiri had to hold Neteyam back from swooping into save you.

But you did it. You completed your rite and claimed Kailo as your own.

And you soared with him now, above the clouds, barely containing the smile etched on your face as the wind whips through your braids.

You loved heights. You loved how infinitely endless the sky seemed, burning with blasts of azure or an early morning blaze of fire-hued sunrises, or the cold warmth of the rain that refused to fall within the stars.

Revered by the scattered songs of synodic vespers and requiems of rainstorms. The sky cannot be caged. It cannot be concealed or hidden, it is your sanctuary, enraptured by effortless divinity and strength.

Your ikran let out a shrill and you pet its neck.

“Easy, Kailo..”

You hummed, looking over to jake, who sat atop his own companion, Bob. His dreads caught in the wind behind him as he waved for your attention.

“y/n!”

The wind carried his volume.

“I think we should take a break. In an hour or two the yerik herds will come to the river bank. Let’s law low in the woods.”

“Yes sir.”

You gently kicked Kailos' side, tilting the reins to descend after Jake into the forest, weaving around trees and foliage.

You laugh as a gust of wind trails you and Kailo, almost throwing Jake off his line of flight. Kailo was one of the fastest ikran your clan had ever seen. At least, that’s what the elders of the clan had told you.

Lo’ak was often jealous of spider because spider always got free rides on Kailo. You land before Jake, hopping off Kailo’s back and petting his neck.

“Mawey, tsmukan”

(calm, brother.)

Jake landed after you, the sound of ikran wings announcing his arrival. He climbed down right after you, patting the neck of his own Ikran, bob.

Jake spotted some Yovo fruit trees up ahead, cutting you both down a few as you both sat down on some rocks for  snack break.

Jake leaned back, handing you a half of his own fruit as you muttered a small thank you.

His eyes wandered, as he glanced up at the trees, as if his gaze had become conscious of every shape and sound that surrounded him.

“I remember this place.”

Jake uttered in a soft hum in the air, his line of sight tracing around the figment of  nostalgic fixation in the air.

You raised an eyebrow, munching on your fruit.

“Here? At this spot?”

Jake nods, nudging your shoulder with his knuckles. Pointing to the source of the sound of trickling water.

“The pond. Back when I was training for iknimaya. Way before your time.”

He smirked, as if it was something to brag about.

You rolled your eyes,

“Oh goody. Another one of grandpa's war stories.” 

Jake chucked a Yovo fruit at your head but you caught it effortlessly, not even glancing.

“I’m not that old.” he huffs, clearly impressed at your  heightened reflexes.

You chuckled, flipping your knife in your hand to withdraw it from its place in the sheath on your hip to cut open the fruit.

“Can’t move it like you used to, huh pops?”

“You know, I could have you banished.”

“Than who would save Lo’ak next time he wants to play tag with a thanator?”

Jake ruffled your braids in response to your surmise, clearly holding back a smile.

“Where would I be without ya, kid?”

You shrugged, handing him another half of the freshly cut fruit.

“Probably in one of those healing homes back on earth.”

“You mean nursing homes.”

“Same thing.”

Jake shook his head, letting out a sigh, knowing it was probably spider who taught you such a term.

He glanced around again, brushing in the scenery.

A silence commences between you both, the soft shrills and distant flap of wings within the deep jungle is the only sound that demands attention.

Jake speaks softly, breaking the silence with fragile, yet scrambled steps.

“She never fails to take my breath away.”

You look up at him, watching as he leaned back against the tree, letting his eyes flutter closed.

“Who?” you whisper.

“Pandora.”

He hums in response.

you often forgot Jake wasn’t from this planet. That his true home could only be seen as the sirius among scattered stars. What was it like? Seeing your home from below? The only thing worth touching is the implacable incarnation of your memories.

To hide what was left of yourself, a mere ghost that lingered in the wrinkled corners of your mind.

“What was it like..your home?”

You whispered.

Jake’s ears perk up, his eyes landing on you as he sat up slightly.

He stayed quiet for a moment. Staring up at the sky, his finger gently tracing one of the stripes on his leg as his gaze remained absent.

“It’s like living on a skeleton.”

When he finally speaks, it's quite literally the last thing you would have guessed he would say.

You raised your eyebrow.

“A skeleton..?”

He nodded.

“Earth is just a shell. Like the carcass of an animal. A corpse, almost.”

“I don’t understand.”

He nodded, scooting a bit closer to you, starting to speak again.

“Earth used to be beautiful. So many colors you couldn’t count them all.” 

You nodded, trying to imagine the formless figment of a world in which you’ve never seen.

He closed his eyes, as if trying to remember.

“There was light, lots of it. The air, the sun, the stars…”

You blinked at him.

“What happened to it?”

Jake paused, something creeping behind the orbs of his irises. It's a sickening dark shade of a color he can’t remember, but its bitter aching bones are enough to weaken the courage of a once strong rhythmic heartbeat.

It’s a shadow of an echo. Gutted inside something hollow and carved out of shivering pulses running to a soured stillness.

“Humans will take until nothing is left. They will gawk at the lights of a stupid billboard instead of noticing the dying grass under their feet.”

What's a billboard? 

You thought, but decided not to ask.

You stayed quiet, staring at the ground.

“That’s why they want this planet. Because they killed their old one.”

Jake nods, sighing almost regretfully.

“They think the na’vi is their greatest enemy, when really, the ones who have killed the most humans are…well, more humans.”

You can’t imagine it. Taking a life without regarding the soul you have soiled. Does the red on their hands not sting their eyes?

And that's when you realized it.

Death hummed shallowly in its own pulsating methods. But even the devil has an advocate.

You killed. You have killed many. And it doesn’t seem to register until that very moment. You never thought to count the number of raids you had accompanied your clan on, Jake appointed you as his main archer when you were only 15.

When rage and grief overshadowed the shallowness of sunlight all you wanted to do was avenge.

An untamed anger was born in you when your parents died. And you swore every arrow you ever shot was in their names.

Zensira.

Kai’lik.

Zensira.

Kai’lik.

How would they look at you now? 

Their little girl. The little girl they loved. Their beautiful, beautiful precious girl who loved to hear her mother sing. Their little girl who loved to carry your big brother spider around, (because your big brother wasn’t so big compared to you.)

Who loved to visit the pond and play with lo’ak. Who liked to make bracelets with kiri and get thrown into the lake by your dad, tossing around your small body when you were 7 as you squealed through the freshwater air.

A killer.

“Y/n? Y/n. Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

Jake placed a hand on your shoulder, but his touch felt cold.

Jake’s voice sounded like your head was under water. Blurred, distant sounds.

Your breath becomes shallow, but you weren’t hyperventilating. You were just…still.

What if you had failed them? What if they were watching you right now?

Knowing you had killed. Not hunted.

Hunting was for survival. To feed your family, your friends, your clan.

This was killing. This wasn’t a need. It was a want. A want for vengeance.

Were you even a na’vi at all? Killing without respect for life even if they were a human.

Your mother forgave. Your father forgot.

And what were you? A disgrace of everything they stood for.

Your voice came out like a whisper. Every thought and feeling swirling around in your head. Despite your silent panic, the air felt eerily calm, and almost mocking ambience.

“Did I disappoint them?”

Jake stilled for a moment, rubbing your back.

“Who?”

“All of them.”

“All of them?”

You swallowed thickly.

“Y/n..you know you can talk to me, right?”

You nodded, staying quiet for a moment as you stared down at your shaking hands.

“Am I a bad person?”

Jake’s eyes widen a bit for a moment, his hand slowly withdrawals from its place on your shoulder.

“Why would you think that?”

“Because sometimes I like the way pain feels.”

Something clicked for Jake at that moment. 

Where you saw your hand bloodied by a manic anger and bones with regretful splintered scars, Jake saw a shadow. A shadow of a distressed consciousness that he once acquainted himself with.

Jake was no stranger to products of war. Even when those products were souls losing their vibrancy. The colors fading into hardened flesh.

Jake had seen war turn people into hollow shells. Unheard prayer scattered and dissipated under a blood-stained sky.

Jake finally spoke, but his words, slow and somber, treaded a steeper meaning.

“You aren’t a bad person, Y/n. You’ve been hurt. Hurt by people even eywa cannot forgive.”

You shook your head, the threat canvassed along perpetual doubts.

“I don’t know why I’m like this.”

You admitted.

Jake places his hand back on your shoulder again.

“Sometimes people like us, soldiers, we start to like the pain because we think it’s the only thing we'll ever deserve. But we don’t like it at all. Not really.”

You can almost see it. The stars are falling again. The tapestry thread being pulled mercilessly. The colors are falling. The sun is turning cold. 

You had to catch them. You had to chase the colors or else they would abandon you again.

Your reflection seems distorted. Liquid glass in the taunting shape of a little girl.

A little girl who knew no bloodshed. No war. No pain. No anger.

You would never be that little girl again. And its all your fault. You wanted to kill someone after your parents died. You wanted to kill every single human that worked for the RDA or even set foot on their base.

It’s sick.

It’s wrong.

It’s vile.

But its you. This wreckage of scars and bruises, tattered tapestries and broken bird songs, its all you.

That all too familiar sting hit the back of your throat, you could feel your gaze numbing.

“I’m beyond fixing.”

You whispered.

“No one is beyond fixing.”

He promised.

“Can you take some deep breaths with me? Just a few, Y/n.”

You followed his instructions, and the red started to simmer away. The air felt forgiving once again, and your throat started to feel normal once again.

You spoke again finally, after a few moments of silence.

“Maybe I should have my na’vi card revoked.”

You chuckled dryly.

Jake patted your back. “You and me both, kiddo.”

“What you feel is normal.”

He added.

“That anger. That vengeance.”

You glanced up at him. “Na’vi are supposed to solve conflict peacefully first. War is just a last resort.”

Jake scoffed.

“I think we’ve reached the last resort awhile ago, Sweetheart.”

You went to speak, but were quickly cut off.

“y/n you are not some kind of psychopath. You don’t kill for no reason. You kill to protect. You fight because something dear to you is threatened, that's what makes a warrior true to their heart, their clan.”

His words eased your anxiety a bit. But the shadow behind the sun still creeped disguised under the warmth of forgiveness.

“I’m not a bad person. I don’t know why I want them to feel pain.”

You whispered.

Sometimes you wondered if pretending to be made out of stone means you’d still break like glass.

War was the type of calm that tranquilized. Drugged you into delusions of comfort.

Somewhere inside you was that little girl. She hates you. She hates you with all her heart.

Somewhere inside you is that 15 year old that’s waiting for neteyam in the rain you swear is just falling stars. She hates you. She hates you with all  her heart.

Somewhere inside you is your mothers daughter. Wondering who did this to you.

You didn’t like violence But you were prone to it. 

You didn’t like war. But you're afraid of the day it no longer has a use for you.

War ruined you. Because war made you angry. And anger tortured you.

You weren’t deserving of sunlight, maybe that's why you familiarize yourself with the bleakness of dusk.

Maybe that’s why you loved Neteyam.

Maybe that’s why you hated yourself.

Maybe that’s why you’ve trained yourself with blood stains and tear tracks.

Your mother was forgiving. She adopted a human child after watching her family die, and hometree fall.

She devoted herself to eywa, a woman true to the kindness of her heart and the flame of forgiveness.

She had seen fire and escaped it.

You had seen fire and burned with it.

The shackles on your wrist. The burning in your throat.

You were a child forced into a warrior.

And maybe it was time to heal, but why didn’t it allow you?

This shadow oppressed you. And maybe this prolonged insanity was a good sanctuary to be understood, not severed. Your bones were made of seared iron, the fissure of a once porcelain excellence.

War had ruined you. And ruined things didn’t deserve to be loved.

Jake pulled you close to him, wrapping an arm around you, you leaned your head on his shoulder.

“You’re one of the fucking strongest people i know. You know that?”

He whispered, and the simplicity of his touch settled an almost agonizing comfort.

“Can you fix me?”

You whisper.

Jake shook his head.

“Y/n.  You are not something to be fixed. You need to be healed. And I know you can do it. And we’ll be right beside you the whole damn time.”

You let yourself close your eyes.

“You're a soldier, kid. Just like me. A fighter.  It’s all we think we know, all we think we’ll ever deserve. We swear to live and die on that battlefield.”

You nod.

“Sometimes it feels like the battlefield is the closest to home.”

Jake speaks once more,

“Until you find someone who feels a little closer.”

By the way he smiled softly, you knew he was talking about Neytiri.

You leaned further into his shoulder, and he patted your back.

“You know, back on earth, we have a special way of dealing with cases like these. Soidlers who need trauma relief.”

You blinked at him, immediately intrigued.

“You do? How?”

“Therapy.”

You tried the strange human word out on your tongue.

“Ther…ah…pey-

There-a-pay-”

“Therapy.”

Jake corrected gently.

“What’s that?” You asked, as Jake stood up, putting his knife back in his sheath.

“Its where you go to someone who can help you talk things out. Iv’e seen a few back in my days. Military psychologists are what we call em’.”

You raised your eyebrow.

From spending time with max, norm, and spider, you knew that humans had a different way of dealing with their feelings than na’vi did. But this new information peaked your interest.

“How can i find one?”

Jake paused.

That’s a damn good question.

He thought to himself.

He hummed for a moment, petting bobs neck and you put your bow back in its place on your saddle.

“How about this, every few days, you and I can meet.”

Jake proposed.

You raised your eyebrows.

“Where?”

He shrugged. “Anywhere you want. We can go to one of the mountains, or the stream, or the caves, whatever. It can be private. And we can talk like you would to a therapist.”

You considered it for a moment, but after all, maybe this would fix you.

You shook on it and agreed.

“Deal.”

Jake ruffled your braids and smiled.

“Attagirl. Lets get moving. Those yerik are probably at the lake by now. I’ll race you.”

You mounted Kailo, rolling your eyes.

“I don’t abuse the elderly.”

“Oh fuck off i’m not that old.”

You faked a wince as jake mounted Bob.

“Oo, careful grandpa. You shouldn't be moving too much like that.”

Jake flipped you off.

“Kiss the darkest side of my blue as-”

Before he could finish, You and Kailo took to the skies. 

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ 

Back at high camp..

Neteyam’s pov:

Lo’ak groaned as he laid in his hammock.

Today felt like small pieces had been torn out of it. The absence of my father, my mother, Kiri and Y/n all contributed to this unease.

It fascinating how easily little pieces of things leave something so unstructured when certain routines in your life undergoes a sudden cessation. Only fragments of familiarity keep me company today.

Oh, yeah. That and Lo’ak’s bitching.

I’m never one to complain. Not really. But Lo’ak…He was my personal acception.

I’ve been stuck with him since this morning. My father took Y/n out to hunt early before I awoke, and my mother and Kiri have gone to assist my grandmother in the Tsahik tent. Lo’ak lost his flight privileges after that little stunt he pulled during the raid, and I don’t feel like going anywhere alone. I offered to join my father last night on his hunt this morning, but my father insisted he and Y/n go hunting alone.

I offered to help my grandmother, but Kiri beat me to it. My mother asked me to stay home and start preparing for tonights meal. So here i was hunched over chopping up root vegetables while I was stuck in this void we called home. I felt detached today. Like the world just floated around me while I remained rooted like a weathering tree.

My accidental overhearing over my sister and Y/n talking last night is still fresh on my mind.

“Dude..I think you’re done with that one.”

Lo’ak’s voice finally reaches my ears.

I lift my head, and he points down to where i had clearly been so distracted, i had diced the poor vegetable into tiny pieces, too small to be cooked over a fire. They would shrivel away in the smoke.

I threw them to the side, trying to refocus.

“What is up with you today?” Lo’ak interrogates instead of asking. I keep my eyes down, shrugging.

“Nothing. Why?”

He shrugs, mocking my movements, leaning back in his hammock, leaving his leg to dangle, his toes brushing the ground.

“Dunno. You just seem kinda…off?”

I sigh, scraping the new batch of chopped vegetables off the carved board i was cutting them on and into the wooden bowl with my knife.

“Just a bit tired. I didn’t get much sleep last night”

Technically, that wasn’t a lie. Which seems in my favor, if you remember from earlier, I’m a shit liar. 

Memory was a funny thing. It claws at your mind until you grant it consciousness, and then it romances itself with such scandalous notions. Unforgiving us for ever dreaming of forgetting.

It wants to awake something in us that we can only pray stays dead.

I knew I shouldn't have been listening to Y/n’s words. I knew I should have been asleep.

But know that it’s found me, it captures me.

I want to exist in her mind not only as a figment, because there’s one particular part that is beating the shit out of me.

‘I don’t hate him anymore. I hate the delusions of himself he put inside my head.’

I used to think she only hated me. Hated me for my ignorance, my hesitance, my fear.

I hated it too.

But no. She hated me because she thought i lied to her, gave her something so precious, so inexplicably binding only to shatter it infront of her eyes.

My love for her was never a lie. It was never a joke, or a ruse, or a figment in this phantom of longing that looms over me. 

I couldn’t allow this to go on any longer. That I knew for sure.

Unfortunately, getting to Y/n was a wall i couldn’t seem to climb.

When she wasn’t out hunting or strategizing air strikes with my father, she was with spider, and Spider didn’t let me go within 5 feet of Y/n.

I had to admire him for it, despite him becoming a vicissitude in the middle of my current mission, I had to give him some slack as a fellow oldest sibling.

If anyone had hurt kiri, or tuk (when she came of age to engage in such ‘romantic affairs’) ,  if anyone hurt them the way I hurt y/n, I’d probably have to put my mother’s years of archery lessons to use. Granted, My father would probably skin the poor bastard and wear him as a coat before I even got a chance.

I can’t blame him for protecting Y/n. 

I try to think further as i continue chopping, my tail flicking behind me.

I decide Kiri is my best option. I’ll find her when she returns from Tsahik’s tent. Eywa please, just give me one chance. I swear i’ll-

“Where’s Tuk?”

Lo’ak suddenly pipes up, he probably got bored with his own laziness.

I glance up at him as i scarped off my knife.

“Kyuna picked her up this morning to take her to play with popiti for the day.”

Lo’ak raised an eyebrow.

“Kyuna?”

I nodded, not looking up.

“Your new mate?”

I don’t like the way he said ‘new mate’. As if i had one in the first place.

I shake my head, slightly annoyed.

“She’s not my mate. I’m not interested in kyuna.”

“Tuk said-”

“Tuk doesnt know what shes talking about.”

Lo’ak shrugs, leaning back to sit up a bit, looking at me with skeptical eyes.

“What’s really going on with you?”

“I don’t know what you speak of.”

He scoffs. “I’m not stupid, Neteyam. You’re acting off. You have all morning, all day, and even now. Whats the deal?”

I place my knife down, glaring at my brother.

“I don’t owe you an explanation. Okay?”

The tent falls silent, and I continue on with my chores, I hear Lo’ak mutter a small apology under his breath. I cave.

“No, I’m just tired..I shouldn’t have snapped like that.”

Lo’ak nods, fidgeting with his songchord.

“If you don’t want kyuna…You aren’t thinking about Y/n. right?”

Lo’ak was more than displeased when I started courting y/n. And he didn’t try to hide it either.

Lo’ak loves y/n. Not romantically. But he loves her. 

It’s the kind of closeness that isn’t sex or intimately deep.

Lo’ak always felt like the distant star in our family. The one who strays from the perfect rotation of each patterned path.

His hands were stained with hunger. Imperfect painted sun blood stained skies.

Lo’ak’s trust in us was ghostly and transluscent. He didn’t always feel like he fit the shape carved for him.

Lo’ak’s imperfect edges, sharpened and rough, scarred and edged to a point.

He found his place between Spider and Y/n. His bestest friends. Two people he would die for.

Found his own sky.

Dark blue and purple hues and the warmth of pale moonlight, he found his place.

When Lo’ak found something that accepted him, he protected it with his life.

And I can’t blame him. Being in love your brother's best friend is awkward. 

Lo’ak was afraid of me stealing that away from him.

Of me invading his circle.

The reality of a sacrifice is an odd, unevenly constructed abstraction.

People don’t think I was born from my mother, rather I was carved from stone and polished to a pristine hue of gold.

My parents expected me to build myself wings and fly further than anyone had ever tried.

When the line wasn’t perfectly straight, it was erased and made a new slate. Blank. Perfect. Spotless.

And sometimes, I’m not neteyam to my parents.

I’m my mother, just a younger version.

I am my father, worn thin from a war and plagued by my past promises.

I’m just a shell of something that was no more. Something to refill with their own pieces of the past.

My skin and soul is only stitched out of parts of them. But only the unscathed parts.

Anything that dared to be less than that was indescent. Unworthy of the light.

My mother’s anger, my fathers guilt, was a far too discolored shade to be seen in the sky.

My existence was like a kaleidoscope of muted colors. A prism turned prison.

I think I’ve forgotten how to slouch. How to sit with an unwelcome posture. How to fidget and how to fantasize.

My entire life is full of sacrifices.

Sacrificing y/n for my future.

Sacrificing my brothers best friend. My future mate.

But I’ll be damned if I loose her again.

So, I lie for the second time.

“No. I wasn’t thinking about y/n, idiot.”

Lo’ak nods,

Leaning back, closing his eyes. I mentally high five eywa because he doesn’t interrogate me further.

“You know, instead of taking a nap, you could be helping me.”

I huff, and fight the urge to roll my eyes, and he sighs dramatically.

“Neteyam, I’m too pretty for slave labor.”

I throw a vegetable at his head and he hisses in pain.

“Fuck you. That’s sibling abuse.”

He whines.

“I’m about to abuse my responsibilities with this knife if you don’t get up off your lazy ass and do something useful with your existence.”

I point my knife at him and he groans, standing up and leaving the hammock.

“Easy there, big bro. Spider will be here soon.”

I raise my brow, an uneasy feeling settling in my chest.

“Spider? Here?”

He nods.

“Yeah. We have chores to do too, ya know.”

I shake my head, slicing the new vegetable horizontally, watching the colored juices trickle down the roots and stain the cutting board.

“No. Not here. You know how mother feels about spider.”

Spider was my mother’s foil. An old term our father taught us.

My mother owed Zensira her life. And she swore to her a long time ago, that if anything happened to her or ka’lik, she would step up to be a mother to y/n, the same went for my father.

But Zensira didn’t have one child. She had two. Spider was not biologically her child, but he was treated like her son all the same. Living in Y/n’s family’s tent, being cared for, the same way any mother would nurture a child.

My mother made promises for y/n. But she never made any for spider.

I don’t think she ever will.

To her, she was a demon. And alien. The type of animal with no hope of survival, but refuses to die. Remains unyielding even under the unwelcoming atmosphere of pandora.

He was an actor. A pathetic excuse of a performance.  A pale child painted blue.

My mother loves y/n the same way she loves tuk and Kiri. Would go the same lengths for her as she would for any of her children, and the same thing applies to my father.

Spider was allowed everywhere in high camp except our family’s hut.

My grandmothers hut was an exception, because it was a communal place in our clan. 

But my mother refused to have any sky demon’s presence scathe the memories of her home. Her only safe place. Where she raised her children and started her new life.

That’s probably why Lo’ak spent so much time at Y/n’s hut when he was little. It was one of the only places he could be comfortably with both Y/n and Spider at the same time.

“You know how mom feels about spider in the hut.”

Lo’ak’s expression is blanked with disinhibited concern and a genuine lack of guilt.

“Mom isn’t here. She’ll be gone all day. Plus, we’re making y/n some new arrows. She’s on that group hunt tonight.”

I crossed my arms.

“And who allowed you to mess with her supplies?”

Lo’ak scoffed. Placing his hands on his hips with a cocky grin.

“The mighty archer herself. I’ve been appointed by Y/n and tasked with a very important job. Who am I to decline her?”

“Just make sure he isn’t here for long. She can smell him if he’s been in here. You know mom’s senses.”

Lo’ak waves me off, standing to his feet, grabbing the small baskets of purple and red feathers y/n used for the fletching of her arrows, and starts to tie them to the shaft of the arrow.

Spider joined him not long after, the two if them sat in the middle of the tent, crafting arrows and talking.

Spider glanced at me after finishing another arrow.

“So where is everyone today?”

“Father took Y/n hunting. My mother and Kiri are assisting grandmother- and Tuk is with popiti.”

Spider raised an eyebrow at me, his mask fogging up momentarily with each breath.

“Who? Popiti?”

Lo’ak rolled his eyes.

“Kyuna’s little sister.”

Spider nodded in realization, then his expression soured.

Lo’ak snorted. “Neteyam’s new mate.”

“For the 5th time, she’s not my mate.”

Spider chuckles along with him and I swear i’m losing neurons from just breathing the same air as Lo’ak and Spider.

Or really, just Lo’ak.

I stood to my feet as i heard footsteps outside. Tuk must’ve  finished up her activities with Popiti for the day.

Usually, It was An’kora. Popiti’s mother, who walked Tuk home in the afternoons.

But when I opened the flap. I’m faced with a face that isn’t my little sister, her braids slightly disheveled from a day of wild fantasies and games of tag. 

A na’vi girl, with mid length braids and a beaded top smiles at me so sweetly it’s sickening. 

You know those kinds of people that you've known since your childhood, and you always knew in one way or another, they would grow up to be assholes?

Yeah. That's Kyuna.

Kyuna was the girl that never let Spider or Kiri, Or Lo’ak play any of her games because of their ‘sky people germs'. 

Kyuna was the girl that told everyone not to sit next to Y/n in the communal lessons we attend as children, telling everyone that she lived with a human boy who gave her diseases.

She does this thing where she laughs into her hand, and leans on the person closest to her, expecting them to allow her access nto their personal space as if the world had her name written on it.

She bows slightly, her movements unnecessarily exaggerated as she raises her two fingers to her forehead and dips them down.

“Oel ngati kameie, Neteyam.”

I return the gesture, nodding at her.

“Kyuna. It’s good to see you.”

No it’s not.

She bats her eyes at me, and my annoyance only simmers away when a familiar smaller na’vi body slams herself into my leg, pressing her head into my hip.

I chuckle softly, ruffling Tuk’s braids.

“Hey Tuk-Tuk. Did you have a fun time?”

I pat her shoulder as she opens her mouth to speak, her big eyes sparkling before she’s cut off by a shriek-like voice.

“Oh she had tons of fun! Her and Popiti just ran around for hours playing their silly little games.”

When you're an older sibling, you start to catch onto things. You start to memorize your younger siblings' habits, mannerisms, movements, even the slightest twitch of their tail. 

Tuk was a creature of habit. And I could tell by the way she gently tugged on my loincloth, and the way she tucked herself behind my arm, she was uncomfortable.

I reach my hand out, and she takes it within a split second, gently borrowing herself in the space behind me.

I lean down a bit, keeping my hand in it’s place on her shoulder.

“Are you hungry? Why don’t you go on inside, yes? Spider and Lo’ak are already sitting. I’m sure Lo’ak would love to make you some seed-leaf wraps.”

Her tail flicks at the mention of her favorite snack, and she finally cracks a smile, before jogging inside.

“She’s adorable. Isn’t she??”

Kyuna sighs in an almost dreamily manner, I stand up straight again to face her.

“My mother was informed An’kora was taking Tuk home today. Did something come up?”

She waves me off, ridding my concern from the air.

“Mother got tied up on foraging duty. I figured I'd watch the girls and walk Tuk home.”

I nod, slowly. “Ah. Well, thank you for taking her home.”

She smiles, tilting her head like a viperwolf begging for scraps.

“Oh. No need to thank me. She’s precious, that little Tuktirey.”

I never liked the way she talked about my sister. Her tone was almost mocking, as if she was describing a doll or some kind of inanimate object. 

“Well. I should get going. I don’t trust lo’ak alone with the firepit and Tuk is probably hungry-”

“My father wanted me to invite you on his next hunt. Are you free midday tomorrow?”

I wasn’t surprised when she offered. It’s all she talked about the last 4 times I had saw her.

The one time I did agree, all the man would talk about was what kinds of flowers Kyuna liked, and how no one had courted her yet.

My eywa, I wonder why.

There’s an unsteady rhythm that inhabits itself in my chest. The kind that sets off warning signals in your brain.

I scratch the back of my head awkwardly, my knuckle brushing my tswin.

“It’s a kind offer, really. But I’m already expected to join the night hunt tonight. The one led by y/n and my father.”

She stared at me with some notion of unrequited enamour, and I almost feel bad for her.

“I’m sorry. Maybe another time?”

She nods, her tail swishing behind her.”

“Of course. I’d expect nothing less from the future olo’eyktan of our clan.”

The emphasis on my title seems almost slurred, and my body instinctively takes a step back the moment she takes a step forward.

“Yes, well, my training has only been increasing.”

“Such a strong warrior. A man of the people. I’m surprised you don’t have the women of our clan falling at your feet. Oh, wait You do!”

Why was she yelling? I’m literally two feet in front of her.

I shifted uncomfortably on my feet.

“I should get back inside, kyuna.”

“One more thing, Neteyam?”

I don’t turn my body fully towards her, but my eyes focus on her figure nonetheless.

“There’s been rumors.”

Something twists in my stomach the moment she says that. Like a static running blank. Or soundwaves straightening into lines.

“What?”

“People talk. And there’s been word that the future olo’eyktan of our people will never find his tsahik.”

I groan, dragging my palm down my face.

“Don’t bother me with such matters, Kyuna. All this talk of the future that is too far away to be treading towards. My father is too stubborn to give up his place that fast. He will remain olo’eyktan for a long time before I take his place.”

She shrugs, crossing her arms.

“All i’m saying is..”

She takes another step, her chest nearly touching mine.

“You are wanted for more than you think. The women of this clan practically swoon over the thought of being by your side, and you haven’t even blinked at them.”

I click my tongue, averting my eyes.

“My future mate is none of your business. Nor is it the clans. Not now, at least.”

She goes to speak; but before she can utter her next words, Lo’ak came stumbling out of the tent with a less than pleased expression on his face.

“Bro.”

He tugs on my arm, gagging exaggeratingly.

“Tuk threw up- it’s a mess in there. Whatever Kyuna fed her is NOT sitting well.”

I blink at my brother, but it quickly registers that something wasn’t right.

“Are you sure? She seemed fine when she came home-“

“Dude. I know barf when I see it.

She must have ate something bad at Popiti’s.”

Kyuna was stunned, crossing her arms in an offended manner.

“I beg your pardon? Tuk didn’t eat anything at my place today.”

Lo’ak scoffed.

“Uh huh. Sure. You’re probably just trying to poison my sister. Aren’t you? Our father will be hearing about this!”

My main concern at the moment is Tuk.

“Excuse me-“

I muttered to Kyuna as an excuse for a goodbye, shoving past Lo’ak to my family’s tent, expecting to see a poor Tuktirey doubled over, regurgitating what was either late breakfast or early lunch, when instead all that comes into view is Tuk sitting cross-legged next to spider, as he starts methodically picking out some of the different seeds from the assorted bowls we used to prepare our meals. As he sat making leaf wraps for a suspiciously fine looking Tuk.

I crouched down next to her, feeling her forehead and keeping a hand gently on her back.

“Are you okay, Tuk?”

She nodded, blinking up at me.

My eyes flicker up when Lo’ak enters the tent, whistling as if nothing just happened.

“Lo’ak, Tuk seems fine..”

I trail off.

He winks at me.

“Your welcome. Kyuna left us in peace.”

Pain in the ass or not, I have to admit, Lo’ak was smarter than we give him credit for.

when I finally finished peeling the vegetables, I left them in their basket and enjoyed a break with Tuk, Lo’ak, and Spider.

We all sat eating Spider’s very poor excuse of a seed-leaf wrap. But they worked, for some odd reason no one could place.

Spider didn’t eat, because of his mask, so i guess he settled for conversation.

“So, Tuk. How was your playdate?”

Tuk nods eagerly, talking through a mouth full of seed-wrap.

I reach for the extra cloth in my loincloth pocket, letting her wipe her mouth before speaking normally again.

“It was fun. But I don't think I like Kyuna anymore.”

Lo’ak scoffed, high fiving tuk.

 “Put er’ there sis. Neither do I. She’s a bitch.”

“Lo’ak. Language.” I scold, smacking his head lightly.

He rolls his eyes.

“Fine. Shes a B-I-T-C-H. Better?” Spider laughs. Leaning back.

Lo’ak shoves him.

“Oh and what’s so funny? Mr, ‘i’m afraid of women’?”

Spider shakes his head, raising his pointer finger to poke lo’aks chest.

“Correction. I’m afraid of your mother and Y/n.”

“Everyones afraid of Y/n.”

I ignore Lo’ak and Spider’s bickering, turning my attention to Tuk.

“Was Kyuna bothering you?”

She shook her head, taking another bite. Speaking through a mouth full of food

“Nuh-uh. But she kept asking me if you were home, and if you had received any courting gifts yet, or if you wanted to go hunting with her.”

I bit my tongue, smoothing down some of tuk’s stray braids.

“How about this, Next time, I’ll walk you home from Popiti’s.”

She nodded and took another bite of her food.

“I don’t think she should be your mate anymore”

Tuk shakes her head disapprovingly, crossing her arms over her chest.

Spider raises an eyebrow.

“Kyuna and you are a mated pair? Since when?”

Lo’ak snickers and I groan.

“For the last time, she is not my mate.”

Tuk blinks at me before speaking again.

“Can you mate with y/n instead? She’s nicer.”

I shove another leaf wrap into her hands.

“How about we play the quiet game for a bit?”

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆

Hello my lovely virago readers! So because tumblr didn’t like my original 28k words version of this chapter, iv’e split this into 3 parts. This is part 1 of chapter 3. Part 2 and 3 will be posted straight after. 

Thank you for your patience!

Please don’t forget to comment your favorite quote, dynamic, or moment!

Taglist

@mntx666

@isnt-itstrange

@thebestrouge

@bay7let

@fairuzwhat

@jackiehollanderr

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@satesatesate2009

@0stargirl0

@heavenlysstuff

@dayyzlol

@iheartamajiki

[flowerandblood]

Green Snake, Red Lion (9)

[Slytherin • Aemond x Gryffindor • female]

[warnings: sex content, smut, fluff]

[description: Aemond is a Chaser and captain of the Slytherin team. His biggest rival on the pitch from the Gryffindor team, turned to be his biggest fan, and he hates her with all of his heart. His hatred towards her slowly turns into something else, when she one day stands up for his sister, Helaena. This is slow burn love story.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

As promised, Aemond took Solren for a walk. They headed towards the lake, where they knew that they could have some privacy. By the time they reached the shore and sat down on the grass under one of the trees, the sun was setting.

Solren wanted to sit next to him, but he pulled her hand so that she landed between his knees. He pulled her against him, her back pressed against his chest, his hands wrapping around her waist. He pressed his forehead against her temple, making himself comfortable with her, closing his eye.

"Tell me everything." He whispered softly. "Tell me everything from the beginning."

Solren pursed her lips and was silent for a moment. She stroked his hand which lay loosely on her belly. They played with each other's fingers, and Aemond thought that there was something tender and sweet about those innocent gestures of affection. He heard the Gryffindor clear her throat softly, as if she had finally put her thoughts together.

“I… at first I wanted you to appreciate me as a Quidditch player. I couldn't take my eyes off you when I saw you in the air. I saw that you train and run more than others, that you try harder than others. You were an inspiration to me. You still are." She said softly, glancing at him. He stared at her intently, trying to remain impassive, and swallowed hard, feeling his heart clench painfully.

“Sometimes, I heard you tell your friends about the books you read. I saw you study, that you are always prepared. I thought that I'd like to have such a great friend." She said softly, glancing at their intertwined hands. Aemond wondered if she could feel his heart pounding hard.

“I've also seen you disappear sometimes with… your female friends. I didn't want you to think that I wanted the same. I mean…I, of course, wanted it too, but…but not like this.” She said, her voice quavering at the last sentence.

Aemond squeezed his eye shut, feeling that if he said one word he would cry. He pulled her closer to him, burying his face in her soft neck, enjoying her wonderful scent. He felt her face turn, her nose in his hair, her hands on his. He could feel them both holding back tears.

“…that's why, now….sometimes I think about it, do…do you miss it. Don't you feel that I'm limiting you and if… don't you want to do it again. You know… to be attached to only one girl. I will understand if you don't want it, really. I can just be your friend if you want." She said in a trembling voice, he could feel her body shivering slightly from the stress and overwhelm of what was happening inside her.

He thought desperately that he hadn't noticed at all that anything was happening to her. That it hadn't even crossed his mind that she might be analyzing it all this way, having so much insecurities and doubts, that she thought that he didn't want to hear. He swallowed hard, his throat dry, his stomach tight.

"I want only you." He whispered, his voice trembling slightly.

"Forgive me." He said, tightening his fingers on her robes. He felt her move suddenly, surprised by the change in his voice. "Forgive me for everything that I've done to you."

She turned to him suddenly, hugging his neck, and they both burst into silent sobs. He hasn't cried since childhood. He cried night after night after losing his eye, but decided that he would never shed another tear, because it didn't change anything.

But now, crying with her, he felt relieved. He thought that if she had been with him, then, after that terrible accident, he would have handled it all better. Maybe then he would be a completely different person.

However, he noticed that since he was with her, he was less aggressive towards other people. He thought he just calmed down. Trivial things didn't frustrate him, nor did he lose his patience so easily. He didn't know where the change came from, but he noticed that Solren often said that one shouldn't waste one's energy, getting annoyed over small things.

Whenever he was angry, she calmed him down by stroking his hair or simply hugging him, and his anger slowly dissipated. She was able to bring him relief in an effortless way and made him stop worrying about everything.

Now, hugging her to him, he also felt relieved and at peace. He cleared his throat softly, wiping his cheek, pulling himself together, tilting his head back.

“Cregan Stark gets on my nerves. He likes you, and I think that he's crossing some physical boundaries." He finally said, pressing his lips together, embarrassed by his words and his jealousy. He thought that since she had told him everything, he shouldn't have kept anything from her either.

"In addition, with your warm approach, you will never say no to him, even when he does something that is inappropriate." He said with slight resentment. She pulled away from him and looked at him, completely surprised by his words. She swallowed hard, looking down at her hands.

“I… after what you told me last time, I talked to him. I told him he had to stop. He says that he treats me like his little sister." She whispered, looking pleadingly at him. Aemond snorted.

"I don't believe him." He hissed, looking to the side, annoyed. "And even if, still…" He started but didn't finish, pressing his lips together. Solren sighed heavily, stroking his shoulder reassuringly.

"I know. He's stopped doing things like that. He keeps his hands to himself, I swear. But I really like him. We've been friends for years. I never felt for him what I felt for you." She said quietly, ashamed. Aemond glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

"For him you wouldn't make a banner with his name on it?" He asked, and she giggled happily, covering her mouth with her hand.

"I'm so terribly sorry. You must have been so ashamed of me then." She said, amused and distraught at the memory. Aemond shook his head.

"I should be ashamed of how I treated you."

They talked for some more time in a slightly better mood until the sun went completely down. Neither of them wanted to part ways and go back, but it was starting to get chilly and they both had homework to do.

As they entered the school grounds, they kissed again, tenderly and reassuringly. Aemond felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from his heart.

Aemond, after returning to the common room, dragged his Slytherin friend to a secluded spot and said that he would kill her with his own hands. The girl began to cry, saying that she had been in love with him for a long time and thought that he and Solren did not fit together.

That she thought that this potion would make them tell each other everything they had to say about each other and make them break up. Aemond stared at her, feigning indifference, boiling inside.

"You will go to my girlfriend after breakfast tomorrow, apologize to her in front of everyone, and admit publicly what you did." He said coldly.

As she began to cry and writhe, he clamped his hand around her neck and told her not to test his patience. The next day, to his satisfaction, pale and red with tears, the girl did as she was told.

He and Solren spent the next few weeks preparing for their end-of-year exams. They noticed that more and more people around them were starting to talk excitedly about the beginning of next year. Rumor has it, that the famous Harry Potter will be coming to Hogwarts at that time.

Many people wondered if this child had really survived. No one had seen him since that fateful night when Lord Voldemort disappeared. Others, however, added that he would turn 11 next year, which meant that he should be a freshman. There was a lot of excitement in the school about this idea and there was no one who didn't talk about it.

"Do you think he'll come here?" Solren asked, leafing through her Potions textbook again. Ever since Snape saw her all crying, she couldn't look at him in shame. Luckily for her, he didn't bring it up again, pretending nothing had happened. Aemond looked at her in surprise.

"Who?" He asked, as if he didn't quite understand what she meant. Solren turned excitedly in her seat.

"Harry Potter." She spoke in a whisper, as if she was afraid that someone would overhear their conversation. Aemond sighed.

“Even so, what of it? He will be an ordinary child who will be instantly made a hero. Frankly, an unenviable fate. Everyone knows his name even before he came here." He said, going through his old essays, scribbling some notes on the side in his notebook.

Solren sighed softly and nodded her head at his words. Aemond looked at her out of the corner of his eye and sighed. He tapped his fingers on the table for a moment, as if deep in thought.

"Are you sure that you don't want to come with me to the Quidditch World Cup?" He asked quietly, pressing his lips together. The championship was held once every four years, and he felt that if he wanted to see this great spectacle with anyone, it would be her. Solren looked at him uncertainly and sighed softly.

“Tickets are very expensive, I don't want to burden my parents like that. Even if I work all summer at my dad's bookstore, I won't be able to afford them." She said, going back to reading, smiling softly under her breath. "Don't worry, you'll tell me everything."

Aemond pursed his lips at her words, tense. He was afraid of how she would react to his words.

“I bought tickets for both of us. Just don't get angry." He said, as he saw her startled, horrified gaze and her mouth opening to speak.

"I just can't imagine not having you there. Your birthday is in August, right? You told me about it recently. I thought it would be an excellent gift. Come with me. With me and my family." He said calmly, placing his hand on hers, stroking it reassuringly. Solren pursed her lips and looked down as if she was about to cry.

"Thank you." She said softly.

Seeing her state, he pulled her to him, ignoring the people who were sitting at the tables next to them, and kissed her hungrily. He felt a surge of desire at the thought of this happening.

That he would see the matches of his beloved team with the person that he loved so much and who shared his passion. That they would be able to watch amazing duels in the great arena all day, buy souvenirs, talk only about Quidditch. That they will sleep in one tent.

That he would be able to fuck her there every night.

Involuntarily, he placed his hand under the table on her knee, slipping it up her skirt, sliding it to the bare skin of his thigh. He felt her whole body tremble as his fingers traced to the fabric of his panties.

He pushed it away with his thumb and ran over her entrance, sighing softly into her mouth, feeling, how wet she was. She pulled away from him, her hand tightening uncertainly on his forearm.

“− stop − please −” She whispered pleadingly, feeling him lose control as he began to massage her with a soft, wet click of her juices, teasing her clit. "− please −"

He pursed his lips and removed his hand, which was all sticky with her moisture. He looked at her as he licked his fingers in front of her eyes and she looked down, all red, bent over her textbook again.

Exams were an ordeal for them. Although both of them were very well prepared, they wanted the highest possible results. They knew that OWLs were coming next year and they wanted to be as prepared as possible for them.

The test and the questions that Snape gave them were very difficult and Solren was one of the last to leave the room. She wished her professor a happy holiday, and he just muttered under his breath.

When the exams were over and they could only wait for the results, they breathed a sigh of relief, happily planning their trip to the World Championships. Aegon and Helaena were equally excited about their escapade with their parents.

Their father, as an important official of the Department of Improper Use of Magic, was invited to a finals match every four years, but he bought tickets to all matches for his sons anyway, knowing that they liked to play quidditch themselves. He considered it their hobby and childish fantasy, but he decided that since he spent so little time with them, he could make them happy that way.

“Father always gets us a huge tent close to the stadium. We will also have very good seats, so enjoy your ride with us.” Aegon murmured as the four of them stood once, talking. Solren giggled at his words.

“Of course, I'm happy. It was my dream to go there!” She said happily, Helaena clapped her hands at her words.

On the journey back to London from Hogwarts, Aemond and Solren occupied one compartment, drawing a curtain over the windows. Aemond used the spell, so that no one could open the door. He didn't want anyone to disturb them.

The thought of not seeing her for three weeks drove him insane.

Neither of them had to say anything. They clung to each other, moaning into each other's mouths, their sticky, fleshy lips pressing against each other in a frantic, loud dance.

Aemond sat her on his lap, unbuttoning his pants quickly, unable to wait any longer. Solren stared at him with her mouth slightly parted, breathing loudly with him, sliding her panties off her hips, embarrassed.

"Come here." He whispered, grabbing her waist, lifting her slightly, guiding her to the tip of his impatient cock, throbbing with desire.

She moaned sweetly at the feeling, placing her hands on his shoulders for balance, looking at him with tenderness and a feeling that made him hot.

He threaded his hand through her hair and tilted his head back, resting it against the backrest and sighed heavily as he felt her slowly lowering herself onto him, her cock stretching her tight, hot, wet walls to the limit.

"− yes, little one − God, I need this so fucking much − yes, ride my cock, just like that −" He gasped in delight, feeling her involuntarily start to fall and rise on his member, her whole body trembling at the feeling of him deep inside her again.

He thought delightedly that she wanted this as much as he did, that she wanted him and desired him with all her being. His cock throbbed hard inside her at the thought, a soft moan escaped her lips as she felt it.

"− Aemond − I − I need you − don't leave me −" She whispered pleadingly, and he moaned low, throaty, staring at her in pain, his hands tightening on her hips, speeding up the pace, their bodies hitting each other with a sticky, perverted slap, his cock throbbing greedily inside her, close to being fulfilled because of how long he hadn't touched her.

"− my sweet girl − think of me every day, okay? − touch yourself thinking only of me − I − fuck! −” He cursed, furious with himself, unable to stop himself, cuming hard inside her, panting.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, looking at her helplessly, devastated by their separation as much as she was.

His hand slid down to her clit, teasing her with gentle, circular motions. He watched as she continued to ride him, the remnants of his semen still gushing inside her. He felt his heart pounding as he watched her lips part sweetly, her walls begin to tighten around him, close to consummation.

"− p-please, don't stop − touch me like that − oh, Aemond, I − ah!" She sobbed, throwing her head back, gasping for air as if she were drowning, rising and falling against him, her whole body trembling with sudden, overwhelming pleasure.

He stared at her face, filled with relief from such an intense orgasm, and then he pulled her to him, cradling her against his chest, still deep inside her. They both panted, huddled together, listening to the sound of the moving train. Aemond wished that London was a few hours away, so he could spend a little more time with her.

"I love you." She whispered softly, her cheek against his shoulder, facing the window. He grunted contentedly at her words, running his hand through her hair, his eye closed, his body focused only on her closeness, on her hot, wet inside.

"I love you too, little lioness."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @diosademuerte @rwdkarla @echos-muses @ipostwhtifeel @letmeloveyouuuu @yentroucnagol @valeskafics

Others: @fangirlninja67 @helaenaluvr @queenofshinigamis @scmdsblog @talesofoldandnew @godrakin @nina2697 @saminalloxo

[im-just-a-mississippi-girl]

Painted Him Perfect

Pairing: Austin Gunn x ex-wife!reader

Category: Angst

Word count: 824

Summary: You finally decide it’s time to be honest about your marriage with Austin Gunn. About how you painted him perfect.

Warnings: None

A/N: I know it’s been 63936383629 years since I last posted a fic 🤣 but here I am! Based off Painted Him Perfect by Alexandra Kay

Masterlist

Taglist

Moodboard is not mine. Credit goes to @katries 😘

There he was, your ex-husband, laughing with his friends like everything was perfect. Perfect. If only they knew just how perfect their buddy Austin Gunn truly was.

You knew after these past several months it was time to be honest. It was time to be honest with your friends, with your family.

The honest truth is that no matter how many times you sang his praises, drove or flew hours and hours to see him, he would mention over and over how he hated the attention. You didn’t understand because you thought that was what he wanted.

Arguments were more common between you two than they should have been. Couples therapy didn’t do any good no matter how hard you tried, tears in your eyes and streaming down your cheeks. Austin never really tried to make it work, never told his truth in therapy. That was rock bottom for you, for your marriage. His true colors and true character shone bright in that therapist’s office. That’s when you knew it was over, when you knew you couldn’t keep painting him perfect, when he couldn’t even attempt to make an effort to work on the relationship. A relationship that you thought was true love but it was all just a slap in the face.

Kris Statlander and Willow Nightingale were two of your closest friends. You met them through Austin so maybe you have one good thing to come out quite possibly the worst relationship you’ve ever been in.

“Hey!” You heard Willow’s upbeat voice coming from your left.

“Hey.” You sighed. Now is the time to tell them. They’re your best friends, plus you have nothing to hide. You fought tooth and nail for your marriage to get better, to please Austin in order to keep the storm clouds away.

“I know that voice. What’s wrong?” Kris was never one to beat around the bush. She noticed you haven’t made any effort to look their way. Her eyes followed yours and she knew immediately who you were looking at. Austin Gunn and the rest of Bullet Club Gold. “You two have an argument?” Kris turned back to you, her head tilted as she studied your face.

Understatement of the century.

Willow shook her head. “I don’t think that’s it. I think maybe—”

“I need to be honest here girls.” You finally looked at your friends and you saw you had their undivided attention, so you let the floodgates fall. Maybe you should have went somewhere more private than roughly 8 feet away from the Bang Bang Gang but part of you wanted passersby to hear, his friends to hear. You just knew that if you didn’t speak your truth then another woman would fall victim to his charm and nice guy act only to be in for heartbreak and misery.

By the time you were finished, Kris’s and Willow’s jaws were on the floor. You didn’t leave anything out. You told the story of how the seemingly ‘perfect’ marriage was all because you made it out to be that way. You told them how you always excused things away as ‘that’s what love is’, but now you knew better. You recalled the big scene Austin caused on vacation at the beach in Atlantic City back in August. August 14th to be exact. Unfortunately, you’ll never forget that date because you’ve never been more embarrassed and ashamed. You even admitted to ignoring the red flags, the red flags you always said you would never let slide. Retelling these stories made you realize that you were yellow and he was green, blue was always going to be the color of your relationship.

During your storytelling, some tears must have fell because felt Willow squeeze your hand, in an effort to comfort. Kris on the other hand was connecting the dots before you’d finish a story.

“That’s what really happened to us. No amount of couples therapy could save us because he didn’t want to save us. Not even when I begged for him to, cried for him to. So the best thing I could do was to paint him perfect so no one knew a thing about just how miserable and embarrassing our relationship truly was.”

“He didn’t deserve for you to paint him perfect.” Kris was fuming. You knew if you gave her the green light she would make that boy’s life pure hell. It was tempting but you wanted something else for him instead.

All you could do was agree. “You’re right I shouldn’t have and it’s a good thing I’m not doing it anymore.”

You didn’t hate Austin Gunn, you didn’t like him, and you sure as hell didn’t love him — at least not anymore. Although, you did want him to feel the pain you felt, you wanted him to be heartbroken. Okay, so maybe you did hate him a little bit, but could anyone really blame you after you told the truth?

General Taglist: @legit9thlunaticwarrior @plentyoffandoms @1dluver13xx @sunshinevirus @wwenhlimagines @crowleysqueenofhell @jackson-nickthedate @omg-im-such-a-masochist @kmc1989

[1-800fandomqueen]

And I Will Live Forever

Vladislaus Dragulia x fem!reader

Part One

WC : 16.2K

SW : No usage of "Y/N," physical appearance and details are left completely ambiguous and are up to interpretation. Mentions of violence, canon-typical, this fic follows the chronological events of Van Helsing (2004). Everybody lives AU! because I am first and foremost fruity, and want to slum it with Dracula and his wives.

If there are any more warnings to be added let me know!

Story Notes :

For reader's bride dress, I imagine the "Melora White Maxi Dress And Collar" but with a very light blue gradient.

All sentences in this formatting are flashbacks from part one.

This is a re-post, all of my old accounts were deleted.

‘He was truly my dearest friend, albeit a little strange, I owed everything to him.’

You wait on the steps of the Monastery, seeing the horse approach from across the courtyard, your dearest friend, Gabriel - The Great Van Helsing - was returning from France today. He had been sent on a mission to capture and bring back Dr. Jekyll, alive. But word sent the day before his return showed that he would be returning empty handed. You walk down the stairs to greet him as he slows the horse and dismounts, “Gabriel!” arms tossed around his stiff body squeezing until he moves to return the sentiment. After you deem the hug long enough you let go, quirking an eyebrow at him, a slight frown overtakes your features, “You know how much trouble you’re in right?” You’re immediately met with a sigh and an eyeroll, Gabriel beginning to walk away.

“I don’t understand how you managed to mess this up, the Cardinal is extremely angry.” furiously pacing yourself to keep up with his long strides, the brim of his hat pulled low to hide any sort of expression upon his face. “Van Helsing are you even listening to me? The Cardinal is going to throw a-”

''I don’t give a damn what Jinette thinks, I got the job done didn’t I?” his tone unwavering and final, holding the door to the monastery open for you, following after. You decide not to answer as you walk through the glittering hall, making your way down to the confessional, standing in front of it as he enters. 

You waited outside the door, the conversation between Gabriel and Cardinal Jinette fading in and out with the fluctuation of their volume, the Cardinal remaining the loudest. You hated the way that Jinette spoke to him sometimes, Gabriel never failed to provide results, and had done everything in his power to fulfil every deed given to him by the church.  He was good at what he did, that was undeniable, but he was truly a good man at heart. 

He was the only reason you were allowed to stay within Vatican City, having shown up on the Ministry doorsteps only a few years after he did, you however were significantly younger when you did arrive. You’d been abandoned, living in the streets, when a rowdy group of men chased you all the way to the doors of the church. He had immediately come to your aid and ever since then he had somewhat taken on the role of the older sibling you never had, convincing his superiors to allow you to stay within the ancient building. He always had this air of guilt surrounding him whenever interacting with you, claiming that you reminded him of someone he once knew, but never explaining further than that. 

He taught you how to fight, how to defend yourself if the situation ever arose, he made you carry a small vial of holy water and a collapsible stake on your person at all times, telling you that you never know when you may need it. He was your only companion besides a friar named Carl, who was somewhat closer to your age, a madman when it came to inventing. 

Hearing the scrape of the sconce as the Cardinal opens the secret door, you slide into the booth next to Gabriel right before the metal gate slams into place, quietly taking your spot behind your friend as you begin the descent down into the order. You listen as the Cardinal gives the same spiel about being the last defence against evil, zoning out as you watch the monks move about the place. You snap back into focus at the sound of the projector whirring alive, Jinette giving Gabriel his newest assignment. “We need you to go to the east, to the far side of Romania. An accursed land, terrorised by all sorts of nightmarish creatures.” You watch Van Helsing's face go slightly pale as the image changes, an even more grim look taking over the one that usually resides upon his features, “Lorded over by a certain Count Dracula.” 

You slightly zone out once more as you study the painting, you can hear Gabriel speaking but are unaware of what it is he’s saying. You can’t help but feel a strange mixture of happiness and sadness take over your body as you look upon the man - The Count - in the image, you could swear to all that was holy that he looked familiar. Like you’d met him before. 

You’ve decided by what little of him you could see, that he was still undoubtedly handsome. Slightly taller than you, possibly 6-foot, dark hair, and shockingly blue eyes. 

You don’t notice the looks Gabriel throws your way, the realisation hitting him that you're lost at the sight of the photo. 

When the Cardinal changes the image projected, you rejoin the conversation, looking up to lock eyes with your friend, giving him a wary smile as you fight off the sudden emotional pit forming in your stomach. Listening as Jinette lists off members of this royal family, watching as Gabriel becomes starstruck at the sight of Princess Anna, giving him a smirk and a hard elbow to the ribs, him responding with a slight stomp onto your foot. 

You stop listening again when the insignia of his ring is mentioned, the pit returning to your stomach as you walk away to find Carl. You find the aforementioned man yelling at someone in a pedalling machine, gasping slightly as the person on said machine is electrocuted. “Carl what are you doing?” you’re met with a few mumbles of “Almost had it,” and “Maybe next time,” as Carl shuffles towards you, giving you a small pat on the arm and a crooked smile. He turns his attention to Gabriel as he approaches, automatically beginning his line of chastising and questioning. You follow as Carl begins putting things into a bag for him, Garlic, Holy Water, amongst some weapons. After he causes a viscous fluid to erupt into sparks upon the ground, you giggle as he turns with his inventors' goggles down, magnifying his eyes to a ridiculous level. He gives you a sour look, “the air is thick with envy” he says, rolling his eyes and walking away as you continue to giggle. 

He shuffles around to grab more weapons, going on about some substances that can emit light equivalent to the sun, telling Gabriel to use his imagination with it. “No Carl, I’m gonna use yours that’s why you’re coming with me.” “Oh hell be damned I am!” letting out a dramatic gasp as you clutch your chest, “Carl! You Cursed! Monks aren’t supposed to curse.” You watch as a smug grin takes over his face, leaning in close to you as if to tell a secret, “Well actually I’m still a friar, I can curse all I want. Damn it!” giving you a wink as he shuffles back to his original spot. 

“The Cardinal has ordered you to keep me alive as long as possible.” he continues, about to walk away before you grab his sleeve, “Wait, what about me? I want to come along as well.” You’re met with a stern look, the both of you completely ignoring Carl's mumbles about not being a field man as you follow Gabriel out of the Laboratory, “No, that’s entirely out of the question.” “Why not? I want to come to Transylvania, I’m always left behind when you go on missions. You know I get bored easily!” “You’re always left behind because you don’t have the training to go on missions, it’s highly dangerous-” You stop him once more, “You trained me Gabriel, remember?” cutting him off as he goes to respond, “You’d rather let a friar, who has no fighting experience what-so-ever join you versus someone who can actually hold their own?” Giving him the best pout you can, “Please Van Helsing, let me come with you.” applying a slight shake to the arm still in your grip. 

He doesn’t know what comes over him, whether it be the determined look in your eye or the idea that maybe he could use you as help if all went south, but with a strong reluctance coating his words, he agrees to let you come along. 

‘It was the longest trip of my life, a battle through storms and cold only to be put right in the face of death.’ 

You were tired, aching, surrounded by an angry mob when the first one swooped in from the sky. 

The woman, Princess Anna, yelled for everyone to run inside, to find shelter, as Van Helsing shot at the circling Vampires, while Carl was leaning against the wells’ edge, whimpering. You follow the woman as she takes off running - right after landing rather promiscuously on top of Gabriel - eventually shoving her down a cart as two out of the three vampires reach for you. 

You pant for breath as the sun comes out, everyone in the town coming out with it. You walk towards your friends, reaching for the stake sheathed at your side as a noise emits from the well. You scream as the sun goes back behind the clouds and the orange haired vampire bursts up, grabbing Anna by the shoulders. The black haired one not far behind her, not even looking at you as she grabs you and tosses you through the roof of one of the houses. 

You lay there for a moment, paralysed with pain and fear that overtakes your whole body. You snap to attention as the door in front of you bolts shut, muscle memory leads your hand down to your stake sheath, only to find your weapon missing, cursing as you realise you must have dropped it somewhere along being thrown into a building. You let out a sigh of relief when you see Anna, the woman dropping to your side to check on you. You’re about to let her know you’re okay when all of a sudden the orange-haired vampire lowers herself from the rafters of the house. 

You point up weakly, eyes going wide and letting out a yelp as Anna immediately stands and turns to come face to face with her. “Hello Anna” she hisses out, completely dropping and transforming into her regular facade. You do have to admit, she is rather pretty. “Nice to see you too Aleera,” words doused with Venom. You make a move to help her, but when a sharp pain shoots throughout your whole body as you lean forward, you have no choice but to flop back down to the ground. “Did I do something to you in a past life?” Anna backs up slowly, the Vampire, Aleera, following her every move. “Don’t play coy with me, princess,” somehow teleporting to be in front of Anna, “I know what lurks in your lusting heart.” “I hope you have a heart Aleera, because someday I’m going to drive a stake through it.” You watch with bated breath as Aleera literally smacks Anna out of the window, then turns to gaze down upon you. 

She tilts her head at you, studying for a moment. A look that almost resembles recognition passes her features before she dives out the window after Anna. “Fuck.” you murmur, beginning to wiggle your limbs as you try to fight off the searing pain travelling through your body. When you’re able to move once more, you make your way out of the house, down the stairs and through the door, like a perfectly sane person, grabbing a large shard of glass from outside, watching as Anna bursts into another home. 

You weakly run, limping every step, attempting to follow her in case she needed what little assistance you could provide in your current state. Bursting into the house to see the two Vampires over her, mouths gaping open, fangs sharp and extended, their faces taking on slightly demonic forms. You watch as they suddenly scream, twisting and writhing as they turn back into their winged counterparts, flying out of the house.

You offer her a hand, no words passed between the two of you, only pained smiles and grateful expressions, lifting her up as the adrenaline leaves your body, limping out into the street with her. Walking towards the church where your friends sit on its steps, you pass by Gabriels’ hat, turning and grabbing it for him, gently brushing some of the dirt and snow off of it. Bringing it to him and sitting down, you’re met with concerning remarks from both him and Carl, hell, you’d be concerned too if you also saw your friend be thrown into a roof from 40 feet in the air, but you were just too tired to form any words. Letting your head thump back against one of the top steps as an angry crowd of Translyvanians forms around you. 

You’re thankful when Anna jumps to your defence, the revealing of Van Helsings’ identity forces the crowd to back off. You raise your head at the mention of a drink and somewhere to stay, muttering a ‘yes please’ before you slump back against the stairs. Feeling arms come around both your sides, both Carl and Gabriel help hoist you up, supporting your weight as you begin your trek to where Anna was staying, at the old Governors’ house. 

You can’t help the strange sense that washes over you at the sight of the building. 

“But soon, the final battle will begin, I must go and find out who our new visitor is.”

‘It was a restless night, full of aches. Visions of you and a man dancing through your head, along with visions of great pain and sorrow.’

‘Don’t do this Gabriel… Please let go of my wife.’

You could hear screaming, a woman falling through a window. Great agonising pain filling your senses ; grief, sadness, anger, all equally coursing through your veins. 

‘I’m sorry… But you broke the oath.’

Flashes of a happy couple pass through your mind, ending as you turn to be stabbed through the heart by Gabriel-

Shooting up with a gasp, feeling every bone in your body protest at such movement. You take heaving, gulping breaths, the fear seizing your muscles making it hard to intake oxygen. You can feel sweat running off you in rivulets as you try to equal out your heartbeat. What did you just see? This hadn’t been the first dream you’d had of this scenario, with Gabriel killing you, you’d had a dream eerily similar to this one when you first met him all those years ago, except in that one you were the woman falling through the window. 

Bringing up a hand to wipe absentmindedly at your forehead, trying to cease what you assume is a river of sweat. It’s only when your hand comes back covered in a fluid that’s smelling and stringing to your skin, it’s within that moment when you’re able to register the low growling do you look up, and come eye to eye with a werewolf. 

It pounces the second you look at it, giving you only a moment to roll out of the bed and scream as loud as you can. Dodging as best you can as the creature lays havoc to the room you’re in, ducking for cover as leaps for you, watching it crash through the window. You turn as your room door is opened, Gabriel looking in with features clouded by fear. He calls your name, coming around to rest his hands upon your shoulders, “What happened?” “Werewolf,” a shaky hand coming to point towards the shattered window, “Went that way.” Grabbing you by the shoulders he directs you to a ripped up armchair sitting in the corner of the room, sitting you down and handing you your stake, huh, where did he find that? “Stay here, I’ll be back soon.” 

You don’t stay, waiting a few moments after he’s left to get up. It’s only when yelling and crashing resonates from downstairs do you hurry your pace. You arrive at the sight of Gabriel running out of the estate and Anna standing in a catatonic state, staring off in his direction. Disregarding the broken window, you already have a feeling of what broke it to begin with, you turn to Anna, gently grasping her elbows and directing her attention to you. 

“Anna? What happened?” lifting one hand up to her neck, gently tilting her head from side to side, looking for any signs of pain or damage. “Are you alright? Did it hurt you?” That seems to do the trick as her glossy eyes fill with more tears, finally spilling over as she looks at you, “My brother. It’s my brother.” You say nothing, cooing slightly as her tears fall faster, pulling her into a hug. “He’s going to kill him.” Words murmured into your shoulder. “Who’s going to kill who, Anna?” “Van Helsings’ going to try and kill my brother.'' And with those words she takes off out the door. 

You grab a pile of fabric off the back of a nearby chair, knowing that the cold would be too severe for what Anna, and yourself, were currently wearing. You saddle up the horse you came into town on, going off in the direction of several sets of footprints. When you approach where Anna and Van Helsing stand in the graveyard you catch the remnants of what was undoubtedly a heated conversation. “He has taken everything from me. Leaving me alone in this world.”  You quietly dismount, grabbing the blanket you brought and throwing part of it over Annas’ shoulders, slightly startling her with your sudden presence. You say nothing as you resume your previous embrace with her, watching as Anna all but crumbles into the affection. 

“To have the memories of those you have loved and lost is perhaps harder than to have no memories at all.” his words spoken with a guilty glance towards you, an unexplainable rage filling you at the idea of whatever he could possibly be implying. “Alright, we’ll look for your brother.”

“It was obvious that Van Helsing was wary of this man, but when he turned to me I felt no fear. He looked at me in what could only be sheer reverence, and I felt my mind settle.’

The Castle was looming, with electricity zapping to and fro from the top tower. Hanging behind as to give Anna and Gabriel some time to talk. If the fate of Anna's family wasn’t at stake you would take the time to poke at his lovesick behaviour, but until everything was over you held your remarks at bay. 

Entering the dusty manor, pushing cobwebs out of your way, the three of you make your way into a room filled to the brim with sacks hanging from the ceiling, reminding you of very slimy chrysalides. “Have you ever seen these things before?” you aim your question towards either of your company. “No. What do you think they are?” Both of you turn to Gabriel, “Offspring.” “What?” spoken at the same time. “A man with three gorgeous women for 400 years-” “Yes, vampires are the walking dead, it only makes sense their children are born dead.”

Pushing your way through to reveal a grand hall filled with even more of the pods, electricity crackling down the hall and into the room you are in. Watching as the pods begin to pulse and wiggle. “Van Helsing don’t-” exclaiming in exaggerated disgust as he sticks his hand into the sack, throwing the slime substance out of his way. 

“So this is what you get when Vampires mate-” not given the time to finish his sentence as it comes to life, both you and Anna screaming out in disgust. Another blast of electricity barrels through the room, bringing with it a shiver up your spin and the jolt of a static shock. The three of you run as they begin to drop from the ceiling, faintly aware of voices coming from somewhere above you.

Despite Annas’ pleas, you watch as Gabriel exits out of your covered spot, entering the desolate hall once again to begin shooting at the vampiric offspring still flying around the room. He looks up somewhere in the room, a slightly smug look upon his face, “Now that I have your attention.” A giant winged creature falls from the sky and begins to pursue your friend. The gust of air it brings knocks over decorations, items falling all around you. You don’t even register Anna rushing up the stairs behind you, nor the beam and chandelier falling after her, blocking anyone from following. You do, however, register the doors at the end of the hall slamming closed, locking you in here with Van Helsing and the creature. 

Crouching down next to some crates, watching as the creature swoops down, turning into a man. Turning into the Count from the Cardinals’ slideshow. “I can tell the character of a man by the sound of his heartbeat.” A deep accented voice lilting, “Usually when I approach,” clapping his hands together in a slightly off-rhythm staccato, “I can almost dance to the beat. Strange that yours is so steady.”  Hands ending their sporadic clap as he continues to walk forward, all noise ceasing except for crackling of electricity.

When Gabriel drops down and stabs the man you can’t help the sadness that fills you. A strange sense taking over you, making you want to walk over and kill your best friend where he stands. “Requistat in pace” words uttered with an arrogance. You stand up, beginning to make your way towards them, “Hello Gabriel,” freezing in your steps. Did he know this man?

“Is this your silver stake?” pulling it out of his chest and tossing it over his shoulder. “How long has it been, 3- 400 years? You don’t remember, do you?” “What exactly is it I should be remembering?” The two of them begin to slowly circle around one another, “You are the Great Van Helsing! Trained by monks and mullahs from Tibet to Istanbul, protected by Rome herself! But like me, hunted by all others.” 

“The Knights of the Holy Order know all about you, It’s no surprise you would know about me.” “Yes but it’s much more than this” the man laughs as he takes a step towards Van Helsing, the two coming full circle. “We have such history, You and I, Gabriel. Have you ever wondered why you have such horrible nightmares, horrific scenes of ancient battles past. Horrific scenes of betrayal? Would you like for me to refresh your memory a little, a few details from your sordid past?” You shuffle slightly, the heel of your boot scraping across a loose tile in the floor, drawing the attention of both Gabriel and the Count. 

He gazes in disbelief. Freezing for a few moments before taking delicate, hesitant, steps towards you. You knew that you should probably flee, run for cover or to your friend, but instead you stayed put, Standing your ground as he approached you. He walks until the two of you almost stand toe-to-toe. An ungloved hand reaches out towards you and you can’t help the flinch that runs through your body, heart rate picking up in fear. He looks pained at your cower, hand still moving to brush lightly against your jaw, freezing cold fingers solidify his true nature to you.

 “Do not fear me.” 

‘I hope you’ve learned by now that I mean you no harm.’

Words spoken in such a hushed whisper that only you could hear with your proximity. And for some strange reason, you find yourself calming at his words, the fear leaving your still shellshocked system, heart rate slowing. You pay no attention to your friend who’s currently sneaking up behind the man, completely enraptured by the Count. 

He mutters something that you can't quite catch, his hand beginning to drift down your neck, brushing against the necklace round your neck. He picks up the chain and lets it run through his fingers, getting steadily closer to the ring that resides on the end of it. A small silver wedding band that never seemed to tarnish rested along the chain, you had no idea where you had gotten it, it had been in your possession for what seemed forever. It was obviously valuable and you could never seem to part with it, in fear of it one day sliding off your finger during your work you ran it onto a bare chain, deciding to wear it as a necklace. 

Before he can reach the ring at the end of the chain the sound of something clicking into place takes the attention of both of you, him whipping around to grab the silver crucifix Gabriel thrusts into his face, screaming in pain as he makes contact with the holy item. Jumping away as the crucifix bursts into flames within his hand, beginning to melt. He tosses the remains of it away, regaining his composure at a lightning rate. 

“Perhaps that is a conversation for another time.” He takes a few steps back, walking a few feet past you. “Allow me to reintroduce myself, I am Count Vladislaus Dragulia. Born 1422, Murdered 1462.” 

‘Vlad’ rings through your head, the memory of glass shattering and screaming echoing through your mind. You don’t realise that the screaming has become real, Van Helsing grabs your hand and pulls you away with him, still in a dissociative state you don’t realise what’s happened until you both make your escape through a dumbwaiter. 

The two of you make your way to the roof, running into a frantic Anna. “I think we’ve overstayed our welcome.” Words rushed to you and her, Gabriel grabbing one arm each and launching off a line, extending all the way over the rushing river below, to the nearby mountain. The three of you speed off, almost making it halfway across before the line suddenly shakes. The werewolf from the house, Anna’s brother, suddenly hitches a ride on the back, sliding a bit before one of its claws slices the line in half, taking you and the half closest to the Castle, down.

You can’t help the deja vu that washes over you as you fall, the freezing cold river below you. The sound of Van Helsing and Anna screaming for you is drowned out by your own. 

You can faintly see the outline of someone looking over the edge of the castle railing, a yell of ‘no’ reaching your ears. The person disappears from the edge, only for a winged beast to take their place and jump from the roof. ‘It’s the Count’ you realise somewhere in your mind, closing your eyes in what could only be described as… relief? Even though your heart was beating out of your chest, deep down you knew you’d be alright. The wind is bitterly cold, nipping at your back, whistling in your ears. 

Until suddenly it’s not. 

Your body smacks into the water, cold overtaking all your senses as your body freezes. You can faintly feel yourself moving, arms weakly flailing to break the surface of the water to no avail. The current of the roaring river continuously pulls you under, giving you no chance to save yourself.

Right before you pass out from either shock or adrenaline you’re faintly aware of being pulled from the water and into the air. You’re held against something much larger than you are. One minute you’re plummeting, falling down and then sinking to your untimely demise and then the next you’re going up, soaring through the air. 

And with that, you pass out. 

~~~

You drift in and out of consciousness. You can remember being placed in front of a hearth, someone’s lap laid under your head, rough fingers running through your hair. Then three sets of hands and whispering voices, belonging to whom you believe were women, placing and pulling different layers of clothes upon you. You heard conversations about a creature and tracking it down, followed by being picked up by something much larger than you, a hood being pulled over your head, and the flap of great wings. 

When you fully wake, it’s to the feeling of flying. Slowly blinking your eyes you try to adjust to the darkness. You realise you’re being carried by a large creature. Pointed ears, flat-bridged nose, and a maw that contained razor sharp teeth. Its wingspan had to spread to at least 15 feet or greater, and had to be at least 12 feet tall. And you realise that it oddly resembles a bat. 

You hadn’t realised it was looking at you. Too busy in your observative reverie to notice the slitted dark grey eyes that had snapped your way. The large bat lets out a strange rumble when you make eye contact with it, beginning its descent. You’re laid down on what you assume is grass, watching as the creature soars back into the sky, transforming midair. That’s when you remember the last few hours of your life; officially meeting The Count, and all the strange emotions that came with the introduction, all of the rage, anguish, and nostalgia. And the fact that he had saved you, throwing himself off the top of the castle to rescue you from the river. 

He drops back down to the ground with a certain grace and elegance to his actions, slightly bowing with a hand outstretched for theatrics. If you didn’t know any better you’d say he was doing it to lighten the air, immediately throwing you a smile and small chuckle as he does it. You can’t help the smile that overtakes your face as well, accepting the hand he offers you, pulling you off the ground. Finally taking in your surroundings, you realise you’re standing in front of a semi-dilapidated building. It looks to be a small fortress of sorts, surrounded by mountains on either side, along with the faint sound of a rushing river a great distance below you. 

“Where are we?” words muttered, turning to gaze at him. 

“Poenari.” 

‘He can lie and claim to be a hollow man all he wants. But when I finally realised who he was and what he meant to me, I could see the pure emotion overtake his face, and for once I swore I could hear a heartbeat that wasn’t my own.’

The two of you walked silently through the building. 

The dank remnants of the castle smelled foul; stagnant. The place reeked of death and sorrow, everything was covered in thick layers of dust. The Count walked quietly behind you, offering no explanation as to why you were here. Walking aimlessly through the corridors, footsteps echoing all around as you turn a corner, a loud gasp ripping its way out of the back of your throat. 

The hallway leading to a set of winding stairs was the embodiment of death. Dried blood and half decomposed skeletons line the path,  the stale smell of decomposition lingering in the air. You hadn’t realised you’d stopped until a hand placed itself upon the small of your back, gently pushing you forward. You observe the destruction around you, noticing baskets of mouldy, moth-eaten linens, and cleaning supplies next to some of the skeletons. “Servants.” rings out Dracula’s voice behind you, his hand still upon your back. Coming towards the end of the hall, right before the stairwell, you notice a bare spot. There was dried blood in an outline that shows it obviously pooled from someone’s body, but there was a lack of a skeleton, or any sign that one had been there, at least. “What happened to that one?” pointing down at the spot on the floor. “Agnes was buried.” is all he offers. 

You kept Agnes with you, after all she’d been one of your closest confidants since your mother had died.

He nudges you up the stairs, guiding you through the dark. At the very top of the stairs was a thick wooden door in the middle of a small hallway. At the end of a hallway was a painting. Unlike everything else in this place the painting was spotless. It looked brand new, not a speck of dust on it, like it had been visited often. 

That’s not what captured your attention though. What captured it was that the painting was a portrait of a man and woman. Happy, smiling, loving,

And they looked just like the two of you. 

You step forward, shoes lining up in the dust-free imprint of feet much larger than yours; a well-worn spot. Reaching a hand out, fingers gliding across the woman in the painting, your other hand coming up to brush against your own features. Same hair colour, texture, same eyes, same birthmarks and scars. Her hands crossed gently across her lap, upon her ring finger lay the ring you wear around your neck. 

Gasping, taking a stumbling step back, you whip around to face him. You can feel your heartbeat pick up, confusion and fear starting to take over. “Why-” breath uneven, “Why did you bring me here? What is this place?”

He brings a hand up to the door, pushing it open and stepping back, a slight sweeping gesture to show you go in first. 

“Our home.”

Entering the room, you’re met with what you assume was once a very luxurious room. A dilapidated four-poster bed sits in the middle of the wall that the door is on. The room is stagnant like the rest of the place, but like the painting, free of dust. There’s a dresser, a writing desk, and a gap, from floor to ceiling, jagged shards of glass still remaining around the frame of what was once a window. Torn, mouldy, moth-ridden curtains billow in the light breeze, the stone floor is covered in moss and mould, years of rain pouring in through the opening had made it so. 

In the middle of the room is a dark stain on the floor, a trail trickling from the window to it. You don’t want to believe it’s blood, the colour of it is black, too dark to resemble that which was under the skeletons in the hall, but you know. You know that it’s blood and whatever left the puddle wasn’t human. At the thought you cast a glance over your shoulder to the man who brought you here to begin with, he stands in the doorway, and goes no further than that. You take a step towards the gaping hole in the wall, mindful of any shards of glass on the floor.

You can hear the churning of fast moving water, you can hear the wind whipping in the wind, and as you bend slightly to look out, you can hear screaming. 

“Who are you?” 

“Who I am is of no importance at the moment,” 

“Well everything was lined up perfectly, but now, the Voivode has added a new term to the treaty. Your hand in marriage.” 

“I hope you’ve learned by now that I mean you no harm.” 

‘He always treated you with a gentle hand, was never harsh, never cruel, and he never-ever raised his voice. You were his wife, and you should never need to fear him’

You failed to notice the dark figure in the corner of your room.

 “Don’t do this Gabriel,” “Please let go of my wife.” 

And with that, he pushes you out the window.  

And then everything went dark. 

You stumble violently away from the window, knees collapsing under your own weight. A firm presence makes itself known behind you, an arm wrapping around your waist, holding you up. Your vision is spotty, head pounding with this newfound knowledge of a past life and your eyes well with tears. You tilt your head up, making immediate eye contact with the man holding you. Your voice comes out scratchy and choked, “Vlad?” as the tears begin to spill out of your eyes. Vlad gives a pained smile as he turns you around and pulls your body towards his. 

The embrace is emotional as you reduce down to nothing but shaky limbs and heart-wrenching sobs. He holds you strongly, there’s not an inch of his body that doesn’t touch yours, and you could swear that in that moment, you could feel another heartbeat alongside yours. 

The sound of sizzling breaks you away from the hug, looking up in time to see a singular tear make its trek down his cheek, burning the skin it slides down. You quickly bring up your hand, sleeve pulled around your fist to dry it before it causes anymore damage. As you make a move to bring your hand back down he moves quick as lightning to hold it to his face, head tilting to place a delicate kiss upon the skin of your palm. “I missed you,” the words are soft, your throat still scratchy. “Not as much as I missed you, my darling” and with that, he kisses you. 

The kiss is soft, yet powerful. With the force of almost 200 years worth of lost time fueling it. Vlad pulls you even closer, if it were possible. You can still hear the light sizzling where tears are undoubtedly still falling from his eyes. His lips are as soft as you remember, his movements still the same as well. The only difference was his temperature, a constant reminder that you were no longer the same. 

A reminder of the reason you were in Transylvania to begin with. 

Before you can say anything, Vlad pulls away from you. His left hand continues to hold you firm at the waist while his right moves from your cheek to smooth over the top of your hair, coming to a stop at the nape of your neck, cradling your head. There’s a furrow in his brows as his eyes flit across your face, “What is wrong my darling? Why does your heart panic so?” you close your eyes and gently shake your head.

“What about Gabriel, Vlad?” 

“What about him?”

“The only reason we’ve come to Transylvania is so he can kill you, Vlad. He’s vindictive and will not stop until he sees you turn to ash before his feet. Oh this is all my fault,-” 

“Do not say these things.” His right hand tilting your head to look at him, “How is any of it your fault, my darling? Fate is not your fault. You were meant to come back to me one day, and now you have.” A delicate kiss placed upon your forehead, “And as for Gabriel. I will handle him myself. Now come, we have somewhere to be.” Taking your hand and gently pulling you back the way you came. 

When you make it outside, there's three women dressed in lavish silks, gossamer, and fine jewellery. You find yourself subconsciously clutching his hand harder when the three women outstretch their arms and move towards you. There’s almost an ethereal echoing coming from somewhere as the women surround you, cooing their praises. Delicate hands with thin, claw-like fingers move across you. One hand pats your hair, another down your arm, with a ghosting touch on your back. The women skit around, their movements are graceful, like a dance of sorts, and you find yourself in a trance like state. 

“Oh Master,” says the red-headed one, who you recognize as the one Anna called Aleera, “She’s just as perfect as you said.” You find yourself blushing at the statement and the attention that’s being showered upon you. Two cold hands scoop up your face to bring you directly in front of the long black haired one, “You are absolutely stunning, my dear.” “Thank you” whispered quietly, your face practically engulfed in flames. 

Casting a glance towards Vlad only to find he’s already looking at you, a gentle smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. The women stop their parade of affection with a singular lift of Vlad’s hand. “Have you taken care of what you needed to?” His voice echoing out with a seriousness to it as he reaches his hand out towards you. “They tricked us with the carriages, master, and escaped with the monster.” You can see the second that the anger forms in his eyes so you pull yourself away from the women to walk towards him, taking his hand and rubbing your thumb upon the back of his knuckles in hopes to sooth him. Your efforts work as he tilts to look down at you, a soft smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. 

“No matter. Van Helsing is heading straight for Budapest anyways. Aleera I want you to go and follow them, Verona you go with her.” and with a gesture of his hand the two turn into their other forms and fly off into the night, leaving just Vlad, yourself, and the black-haired woman. “Marishka, take my darling and get her ready for tomorrow evening.” You hear a quiet ‘yes master’ as Vlad places a small kiss in the middle of your forehead, before releasing you to a now winged Marishka. “Don’t worry my darling, Marishka is a gentle flyer.” And with that you’re lifted into the air. 

~~~

You’re at a glorious castle in Budapest, a summer home, you remember Verona briefly telling you when her and Aleera finally catch back up. She works quietly and carefully to do your hair while you sit in front of the vanity, slightly nerved by the fact that you wouldn’t even be able to tell she was there if it wasn’t for her brushing and pinning your hair, the lack of a reflection startling. She makes small and polite conversation with you, including an apology for throwing you earlier in the town, as she admitted to not looking to see whom she had grabbed before she picked you up. 

“We are truly very excited to have you within our presence, for many years we have all heard stories of you, the heartbreak Dracula felt at the loss of you and your child never truly went away, no matter how we tried to quell it.” Her accented voice lulls quietly through the dim candle-lit room, and you're briefly hit with a burst of guilt and sadness at the idea of them trying to do everything they could to make Vlad feel better, only for him to rebuff their attempts. You can’t help but offer her an apology.

 “What for, my dear? You are here now and that’s all that matters, everything is as it should be.” and with that she finishes your hair, which has been gently pinned to your head, curls looking defined. Before you could say anything else she walks away as the two other brides enter the room. Aleera is the first to reach you, lithe fingers gliding down both sides of your neck as her cold hands come to lay delicately upon your shoulders. “You look magnificent,” words cooed to you, “truly stunning.” Finishes off Marishka, taking a seat next to you on the bench as she leans forward to reach for the jewellery. 

You hear the shuffling of feet, what you assume to be Verona returning from wherever she had gone. When Marishka is finished clipping in earrings for you, you turn your head to find Verona holding a light blue dress in a style much like that of her and the others dresses. It’s complete with gossamer sleeving that opens up around your wrist and trails all the way down to the floor, a form-fitting partially transparent torso and a loose skirt made of a layered sheer chiffon material. “And now for the final touch.”

~~~

You look and feel like a true goddess as the girls lead you down a hall, you’re conscientiously aware of the ethereal echoing that has returned as they giggle while taking you down to the ballroom. The music grows louder and louder as you approach a large set of double doors, half of a masquerade mask is quickly slipped onto your face as the doors are open and you’re thrust into the room. 

There’s hundreds of people in the room, ranging of all ages as you spot children up in the rafters. There’s people dancing, people performing on silks and with fire, and so many other things that it makes it hard to take in the grandeur of the room all at once. You’re aware of how you must look to all the others, jaw dropped and head constantly turning to take in your surroundings. When you turn your head to look back in front of you, you’re met with the sight of Vlad. He’s in his usual clothing, just with a gold cloak tied around his neck, a mask the same chromatic colour to match, with his hand outstretched towards you. 

You wordlessly take his hand and allow him to pull you closer, his hands gently begin roaming, one hand quickly lifting the mask to take in your features before dropping it back down to rest on your face. “You look absolutely stunning, my darling.” A cold kiss pressed upon your lips, “May I have the privilege of dancing with you?” Eyes boring into your own, he quirks up the corner of his lips into an ever arrogant smirk. “Why yes you may.” Words whispered towards him quietly, acutely aware of all the eyes that are upon the two of you. 

Vlad takes your hand and leads you to the spot directly in front of the platform in which a veiled woman stands upon. The rest of the guests clap as whatever piece of music is being played comes to an end, partners taking their places on the dancefloor. You quickly grab Vlad’s arm as a sudden realisation hits you, “Wait, Vlad, I can’t dance.” eyes wide with fear at the notion of making yourself look like a fool in front of all these refined people. He turns to you with a somewhat reassuring smile on his face, “Don’t worry my darling, you’ve danced this dance many times before. You know what to do.” A look of sheer disbelief covers your features, you open your mouth to throw a sly retort back to him but are promptly cut off as the woman on the stage begins a beautiful aria. He lifts your hand up delicately before softly spinning you outwards. All of a sudden you throw your arm out in a slow and graceful manner, the steps of the dance flooding back into your mind. When you spin back towards him there’s a certain look of, I told you so, overtaking his face, as he grabs your waist and pulls you towards him firmly.

He takes off his mask, then your own, before placing a kiss upon your lips. “I told you that you knew it.” as you both fall back into step with the others, “Of course,” smiling at him softly, “How could I ever forget the steps to the music of our first dance as husband and wife?” A puzzled look quickly takes place upon your face, “Is that the same singer?” question asked as you look back and forth between the veiled woman and Vlad. “You’ll find that many of the faces in this room, once unmasked, will appear very familiar to you.” He spins you until your back is to his front, subconsciously tilting your head to the side, exposing your neck for Vlad to place a cold kiss directly over your pulse point. 

The tempo of the music picks up and you, on instinct, fall into a faster spin with Vlad. He dips you in front of a mirror, eyes snapping over to look at your reflection, the way it appears that you’re floating, Vlad nowhere to be found, none of the other guests can be seen either. You come to the sudden realisation that you’re a mere mortal in a room with hundreds of vampires, your mind begins slipping, remembering the fact that you’ve been choosing to ignore to instead relish in your past; Vlad is dead.

An undead creature who never grows old, who feeds on other humans, you realise how temporary your situation with him is in comparison to the rest of his life. This one minute moment in a sea of others that are sure to come, and all of a sudden, your life pales in comparison. You can feel your stomach turning with the sudden acknowledgement, a wave of nausea hitting you. As if he can sense where your thoughts are going he quickly scoops you back up, continuing the dance. “It’s alright my darling,” the hand upon your back quickly sweeping up and down in a soothing gesture. “There’s no need to fear, nothing is going to happen to you, everything is going to be alright.” He stares into your eyes, his own translating the sincerity of his words. 

You feel yourself relax with the reassurance, head coming to rest just under his own, your eyes closing as you gently press your face into his chest. “What’s going to happen to me?” you don’t feel the need to elaborate, as you’re sure Vlad already knows what you’re asking. “Nothing that you don’t want. If you choose, it will be one brief moment of pain, and we can be together forever.” You pull your head away from him, your eyes still closed as he dips you once more, his hand skating up the front of your dress to rest upon your neck. “What if I choose yes?” “Then it would be my honour, my love.” A deep breath taken in, then he screams, dropping you in a blaze of fire as the cape he’s wearing begins to burn. 

You stand up quickly, worriedly making your way towards him before you’re swept off the ground. All the air is knocked out of your lungs as you tumble onto a balcony, slamming straight into a door. Disoriented, you can make out someone saying your name and shaking your shoulders. “Wake up!” You gaze confused into the eyes of Gabriel, as you hear a voice from down below. 

“Gabriel…” his voice is even, words spoken slowly. “Oh Gabriel…” you stagger towards the bannister in time to see Vlad step into the middle of the room, the cloak that he was previously wearing off to the side in a smouldering pile. All the guests have cleared a wide berth for Vlad as he stops and gazes upwards, a certain fear emanating from them. “Oh Gabriel, welcome to my summer palace.” A smirk thrown up towards him before he turns his eyes towards you, giving you a subtle nod as Igor bursts into the room with the Frankenstein monster in tow, screaming his revenge. 

“Now that everything… is as it should be… Ladies and Gentlemen, I give to you; Van Helsing!” The hundreds of vampires in the room unmask themselves, faces morphing into their sinister counterparts. The sound of screaming and screeching fills the room as you cover your ears, eyes cinching shut. Gabriel takes this as his moment to wrap an arm around you, pulling you away. You protest, squirming in an attempt to get out of his grip, which only causes him to hold you tighter and lift you off your feet. 

He burst through the door that you ran into, where you’re met with Anna right next to the door and Carl at the end of the hall next to a stained glass window. Passing Anna she grabs your arm, beginning to pick up speed with Van Helsing, causing you to squirm more, “Gabriel put me down!” But the protests fall on deaf ears. He strides with purpose towards Carl, a walk turning into a run. “O-Oh where are we going?” Carl stutters, dropping a device onto the floor, “Out the window!” and before either you nor Carl can protest, you shatter the probably thousand year old stained glass as you jump through. 

As you drop towards yet another river, a light equivalent to the sun fills up the entire palace, shattering all the other windows. The only thing you can think to do as you hurl through the air is to scream for Vlad, worried that he was caught in the blast of light, and then you once more drop into water. 

As you resurface you can hear the echoing of screams in the aether, your head continuously goes up and down as you struggle to get your bearings and to reorient yourself. Once you come up for good you take gasping breaths. Gabriel floats next to you, panting for breath with a certain ecstatic look upon his face, “Carl, you're a genius!” “Yes, a genius with access to unstable chemicals.” 

You watch as a boat with Igor, the Frankenstein Monster, and a few other strange looking creatures depart from the port, Van Helsing furiously swimming towards him, Carl and Anna following after. But you remain still. You can’t help but allow yourself to be consumed by the water for a moment, dropping back beneath the rippling current. The water is cold, all consuming, sending a shiver down your spine. You open your eyes, gazing up to see the moonlight cutting through the water and shining down to where you float. You watch the bones and remains of the vampires sink down to the bottom of the moat, the realisation that Vlad or any of the brides could be amongst them fill you with such an overpowering sense of loss. You clench your eyes shut and with the last little bits of breath in your lungs you scream. The air bubbles out of your mouth, floating upwards, you follow them, still screaming when you break the surface. 

The scream gains the attention of Gabriel, Anna, and Carl, who now hold onto a portcullis that had come down from the castle. Your voice gives out, eyes going blurry with tears, choked sobs making their way past your lips. You hear Anna call your name in a worried tone, beginning to make her way over to you. “Stay away,” voice so quiet that no one should have heard it, but Gabriel gives a sharp “Why?” You lift your head up to look at him, trying to blink the rain and tears out of your eyes. You’re about to say something but you see the half-circular red mark that had welted and scabbed over peeking out of his partially unbuttoned shirt. You’d recognize that mark anywhere. Years of pouring over all the books on the supernatural that you could find in the Abbey, hearing stories from Carl about the creation of monsters. 

Van Helsing had been bitten by a werewolf. 

Sensing your gaze upon the mark he places his hand over it. You continue to stare at him, not saying a word as Anna reaches you to place a comforting hand upon your shoulder. You hear her quietly ask what's wrong, turning to look at her, you see an abundance of understanding and hesitancy in her eyes. Could she know? Know that you felt your allegiances slipping to the other side? It was certain that Van Helsing knew, given by the anger in his eyes. 

You open your mouth to say something when the echoing sound of laughter comes through the air. You’d recognize that laugh anywhere. Three light shadows move through the sky, followed by one large dark shadow. You gasp as all 4 come swooping down towards the water, edges of wings slicing across the surface sending sprays arcing into the air. You watch as Carl and Van Helsing duck, Anna following their actions as well, her hand that was still on your arm tries to pull you down with her but before she can Vlad follows behind his brides, swooping down towards the water and plucking you from the surface. 

He makes a sharp turn upwards almost grazing the portcullis before flying higher and higher into the sky. He then straightens back out as you hang below him, Vlad holding onto you under your armpits as Aleera slows down to allow him to pass her before she places herself directly in front of you. You turn your head to look at her, noticing the ball of dark fabric within her arms. Watching as she unfurls it to reveal a cloak, placing the hood on top of your head before fastening it in place just below your collarbones. When it’s on you she gives a sharp grin before letting out another laugh and speeding up to resume her spot with Verona and Marishka. The wind whips at your back, causing the cloak to wrap around your front, you feel yourself being pulled up and jostled around until you’re almost in a position that resembles a bridal carry. Vlad uses one hand to pull the cloak all the way around your body, nestling you against him. You pull the hood further over your head before wrapping your arms into the cloak, balling it into your fists to hold onto the fabric, you turn your head until the wind is at the back of it, and at no risk of blowing the hood off. 

You shiver from the cold of your wet clothes, from the cold of the rain that is still falling, and from the wind that gets stronger from how fast you’re going through the air, the shivering leads to you being pulled impossibly closer to the creature that carries you, looking up to find sharp eyes already upon you, bat ears swivelling back and forth, listening for any signs of danger or discomfort. You can’t really read his expression, not in this form anyways. 

“How is it that I always end up falling from dangerous heights into water?” giving a half-hearted smile to convey that you’re telling a joke, and that you’ll be okay. You’re not given a verbal response, just a deep chuckle and the slight digging of sharp claws into your back, almost like his little way of jokingly warning you to ‘knock it off’. You let out a small giggle, laying your head against him once more, before closing your eyes and drifting off to sleep. 

~~~

‘The peace that I felt, the sense of homeliness within the presence of Vlad and his Brides. The comfort of having these people who loved and cared for one another begin to love and care for me was something that I cannot describe in its entirety to you.’ 

There was no telling how long you were into the flight or where exactly you were going when you woke up. Your clothes were dry and the rain had stopped, although the clouds wherever you were out hovered ominously in the air with the promise of more. You let out a yawn, trying your best to stretch out your limbs while not trying to move so much that you felt like you’d fall. You feel a large hand about three times the size of your own smooth itself over the top of your hooded head before a deep rumbling voice lets out a curt remark of “Almost there.” 

It’s then that you see a large castle, much bigger than Castle Frankenstein or the one in Budapest. It has a bridge that leads nowhere, broken off not even one-fourth of the way across, surrounded by a deep abysmal ravine and peaks of snowy mountains for as far as the eyes can see, offering no way in, and no way out. 

Unless you had wings of course. 

The wives drop down around the halfway mark of the crumbled bridge and Vlad follows suit, dropping down effortlessly, transforming mid-descent, all with you still in his arms. He sets you on your feet slowly as the other three come towards you, their steps almost floating, the ethereal echoing filling the air around you once more. Hands come out to pat your hair and your clothes, various questions being thrown about; Are you alright? Are you cold? Do you need anything? You can’t help but fluster under all the attention, feeling your face grow warm. You go to answer their question before you’re caught off guard by a sneeze, which makes you shiver and bundle back into the cloak. They’re immediately sent into a panicked frenzy, going on about you falling ill from all the rain and cold, mumbles about a warm bath are the last thing you hear as they all disappear towards the castle doors, leaving you and Vlad standing there by yourselves. 

You turn to look at him, only to find him already staring at you, not that you’re surprised. He has this soft look in his eyes, one that you saw many times throughout your marriage in your previous life, there’s a smile on his face and you could swear that there was colour in his cheeks. 

You gaze around at your surroundings and are met with the sight of skeletons impaled on posts lining the bridge, giving Vlad an incredulous look you’re met with a look of sheer innocence. “Well I’ve seen this decor before.” laughing as you speak, “I have no clue what you’re talking about.” Vlad instantly responds without pause, wrapping his right arm around your shoulders, walking you towards the castle doors. “Oh really? So you’d have me believe that this is the doing of your brides?” feigning ignorance as you gently hit your forehead, “Oh silly me I had almost forgotten that you were married to Verona the Impaler.” sarcasm drips from your every word as he turns his head to look at you from under his brow. 

The walk remains silent for the next few minutes as you make your way inside the castle and begin traversing up the stairs. “Vlad,” met with a small hum, “How did you find this place?” You’re met with silence, watching as various emotions subtly twinge his features. “I didn’t find this place. I was banished here.” He doesn’t elaborate as you come to a set of doors, arm leaving your shoulders to hold it open for you. It opens to an expansive room, with another door in the room that is currently open with gentle wafts of steam billowing out of it. You’re met with the brides, who are finishing up drawing you a bath. You thank them repeatedly, stating that they didn’t need to do that for you, but are quickly silenced as they leave the room, except for Verona. 

“I’ll take your dress for you so it may be cleaned. The water has muddied it.” Giving a nod, you take off the cloak and move to drop it next to you before a hand swoops out and grabs it, throwing it over his forearm. Vlad then moves behind you to untie the laces of your dress, loosening it enough for you to drop it down your shoulders, where it is then promptly taken by Verona who leaves the room soon after. 

You make your way to the tub, trying to throw a leg over the edge in a very ungraceful manner before a hand is quickly placed on the small of your back, stabilising you as you lower yourself into the water that was at a perfect temperature. You move to take off all your jewellery, realising that you’re still wearing your wedding ring on a chain. Taking off the chain you remove the ring, acutely aware of Vlad’s eyes on you, sliding it onto your finger where it rightly belongs. 

“Are we still technically married?” question thrown thoughtlessly, “If I… you know, died.” growing quiet at the acknowledgement of your death, looking down and frowning to yourself. “Oh of course we are, my darling.” A cool hand tilting your chin back up to deliver you a kiss before pulling your head back some more to wet your hair. “Do not think otherwise.” 

You sit in a calm silence as he gently washes your hair before you decide to address what was really bothering you. “So, you were banished? By who?” He’s quiet for a few moments, the only sound in the room being the gently scraping of his claws as he swirls your hair around. “My father.” he says, voice nothing but a whisper, “after you and I died, I had a vision. The Devil had come to visit me to offer me eternal life, on the one condition that I would have to feast upon the living. I didn’t want it at first, I knew you were already gone, and the thought of living eternally without you was too much to bear, but the Devil told me that I’d be able to get you back if I agreed, so without thinking I made a pact with him.” 

Listening quietly as he rinses your hair and moves onto your body.

“When I awoke, I was in our home, in a pool of my own dried up blood. I saw the wreckage of the room and the rest of the estate and had no other option but to travel back to town. I walked on foot until I reached the Village where I was then met with the frightened looks of all the townspeople. When I arrived at the home of my father he was so disgusted by me and the demon that I had become that he had his men clap me in irons and walk me to a door of which there was no return, banishing me to this castle. I laid weak at the very edge of that bridge for many weeks, hoping that someone would come to let me back through, but when it was obvious that no one was coming, and that I was growing hungrier and weaker, I called upon the Devil once more, and he gave me wings.” 

You turn to look at him when the sound of light sizzling reaches your ears. “Oh, Vlad.” Reaching forward, the water of the tub gently sloshing with your movements, you place your hands on both sides of his face, fingers swiping carefully under his eyes to stop the tears before they can cause anymore damage. You pull his face towards you, placing your forehead against his own, closing your eyes and basking in the comfort of his presence. “I’m so sorry.” “You have nothing to be sorry for, my darling.” Leaning forward to kiss him, you move one hand upwards to push the wayward strand of hair out of his face. His own hands come up to cradle your head, smoothing down over the back of your neck. “You would not imagine how torturous of an existence it was without you.” Voice hoarse and deep, his eyes darting back and forth across your face. “I think I could.” Leaning back up to kiss him once more, this one lasting longer than the previous one. You press your lips impossibly closer against his own, letting a soft noise of content escape your throat, that draws a hum from Vlad in return.

“You don’t have to talk about it anymore if you don’t want to.” Pulling away and giving him the most sincere look you possibly could. The droplets of water on your back had dried and left you chilled, quickly dunking your body back underneath the surface of the warm water while Vlad reached for a very soft linen, gathering up all your hair and gently patting it dry. “No, no, it’s alright, my darling. After the Devil gave me wings I travelled to feast and rebuild my strength, then I went looking for you. Your body had washed up on a bit of shore quite far down the river, the shore was connected to a small alcove of trees and flowers. I buried you there, along with Agnes, where no one would ever be able to bother you.” He finishes with your hair, moving to grab another linen which he holds out across both arms. You take the initiative and lift yourself up and out of the tub, grabbing onto his shoulder for support as he wraps the soft and plush fabric around you, before helping you out. 

When you reenter the grand bedroom you find that a fire has been lit in the fireplace across from the bed, the flames roaring and flickering, filling the space with a comfortable warmth. You also find, to your shock, that your dress is sitting dry on the edge of the bed, cleaned and looking brand new. “Help me with it?” gesturing your hand to the dress, moving towards it as Vlad does the same, continuing with his story as he laces it up for you. 

“My existence trudged by slowly and painfully for many years after that. Even though I no longer feel emotion the way I once did, I can still feel hints of it, little tuggings of yearning or sorrow. I needed something to fill the loss, and that’s when I found Verona. She was a princess, if you couldn’t tell, she had regality and poise and she was stubborn in a way that reminded me of you. Then Marishka, who was a dancer in a travelling show, and then Aleera, who lived in the Village with Anna.” You raise your eyebrows, even though he can’t see it. “I didn’t realise that Aleera was that young.” a taunting lilt in your voice, remembering that you were only twenty years old when Vlad married you in 1460.

He pulls a little tighter on the strings, causing you to gasp and whip your head around to give him a look that simply says ‘Seriously?’  You open your mouth to say something when your stomach lets out a sound that rivals that of the fire blazing in the room, a heat filling your face as you slightly pucker your lips out of embarrassment. He laughs at this, tying off your dress. “Come, let’s get you something to eat.”

~~~

You spend the next two days relaxing in the company of the Brides, the more time you spend with them the more you come to love them. Marishka is witty, Aleera is a gossip, and Verona is a scholar, and their varying personalities make for a refreshing change throughout the day. You had, however, indulged all the girls in stories of what Vlad was like when he was still alive, the wistful look in all their eyes making it hard to deny them anything. You didn’t leave out a single detail, telling stories that made the girls cry, giggle, and blush, saying things that Vlad would surely deny if he was ever asked about them. 

Vlad had disappeared, to where exactly in the castle, you weren’t sure, but you were fairly certain it had something to do with the Frankenstein Monster and reviving the undead children. Even though the girls could keep you distracted you couldn’t help but have that nagging fear at the back of your mind; Van Helsing was still out there, and he wouldn’t stop until Vlad and the Brides were dead. Gabriel is vindictive and persistent, and you’ve seen what happens to those who test him. You’d expressed these feelings to the Brides, who had immediately began comforting you, the ethereal echoing and cooing bouncing off the stone walls as you were hugged and held while you spilled your every thought to them.

When you’d told them that Gabriel had been bitten by a werewolf, they all grew deadly quiet. The cooing had quickly turned into scared whispers that sent a chill down your spine before Verona quickly jumped up, changed, then flew off, presumably to pass this new information along to Vlad. 

“Vlad can control the wolves though, right?” A look passes between Marishka and Aleera, before the latter turns to you, “Only after their first full moon, before that they pose so much trouble.” “We can be killed by stakes, holy water, and other things, but Vlad is the first of us, our master, and he cannot be killed so easily.” chimes in Marishka before also leaving, quickly following after Verona. “There is only one thing in this world that can kill Dracula.” words spoken softly, timidly, Aleera sliding a hand down your arm before she moves to leave. “Can you guess what it is?”

Yes, you could guess. A werewolf. 

~~~

‘The final battle was beginning. I could feel myself being split in two, the half that was loyal to Anna, Carl, Van Helsing and the Vatican was fighting the half that was loyal to my husband, Verona, Marishka, and Aleera.

You had spent the rest of the night alone, sleep not finding you as you retired back to the bedroom, only to pace back and forth, nerves and nausea tearing at your stomach. It was later on during the witching hour when the door quietly opened, a dark figure making its way inside. “Vlad!” Crying out his name breathlessly, rushing to him to throw your head into his chest and your arms around his waist. His arms immediately find their way around you, pulling you so tight against him that there is no way to move, a gentle kiss pressed against the top of your head. 

He bends his knees, one arm lowering to rest right beneath your butt, hoisting you up effortlessly into his arms before walking over to the bed and laying down with you atop him. Your head lays on his chest, yet the room is absolutely silent. There is no noise beneath your ear, no gentle pulsing of a heartbeat, just hollow silence. The two of you say no words, and truth be told you don’t really think any need be spoken. You both understand what is to come, the battle that is no doubt making its way towards you. Vlad just holds you, a hand atop your head, lithe fingers running through your hair in a soothing manner. You feel yourself drifting to sleep, eyes growing heavy. You can hear him mummering to you in a language long forgotten in your dreary haze, making out a few words here and there. 

Another kiss is placed gently upon your forehead as the heavy covers of the bed are pulled up and over you, protecting you from the bitter cold of the castle. And with that, you sleep.

~~~

When you awake it is to the sound of thunder, and the view of lightning and pouring rain. There’s just the tiniest hint of light filtering through the rain, but the ever-prevalent darkness tells you that it’s almost nighttime, meaning that you’ve woken up just before everyone else. You step out of bed, stretching, before making your way over to the door. As you step out you’re met with the sight of the Dwergi roaming through the halls carrying various tools and papers. They don’t speak to you, they don’t even look at you, they just continue bustling down the hall as if you weren’t even there. You go the opposite direction of the Dwergi and make your way down the flight of stairs that leads to the connecting hall of the castle that will lead you to the wing where Vlad and the girls sleep. 

It’s then that you can hear the frantic blubbering of Igor from the main entrance. “How did you- how did you find… it’s impossible!” Quickly peeking out from around the corner of the door, you’re met with the sight of Igor hanging from the wall, blubbering some more as the person in front of him throws a hand around his neck. 

Van Helsing was here. 

You quickly try to think of a way to get around them so you can warn Vlad that they’re here when a loud shriek fills the entire castle, reverberating off the walls so loudly that you have to cover your ears for a split moment. You can faintly hear Igor, “my master has awakened,” and you take that as your moment to quickly sprint across the hall when the attention of everyone is taken by the Frankenstein Monster. 

You run up the stairs, following your instinct of where Vlad would be. You know that usually when he awakes he goes to the overseeing of the Dwergi working on bringing the children back to life, so you run as fast as you can to the Laboratory. Making your way up the spiral staircase that leads to the top of the tower you’re hit with the strangest sense of Deja Vu, ignoring the pit in your stomach that tells you the last time you went up a staircase like this you died. 

The doors open as you approach them, the Dwergi ever diligent in their appeasement of the masters of this home. You quickly stride across the room, dodging sparks and Dwergi before making your way to Vlad in the middle of the room. “Vlad! Vlad he’s here, Van Helsing is here.” words spoken in a panic, eyes wide open as you gasp for breath. You’re sure he can feel your fear, your heartbeat pounding wildly out of control, the whooshing of blood in your ears making it hard to hear anything else. 

His eyebrows furrow before his facial features morph into one of sheer rage, face partially transforming as he lets out an inhuman screech. Not even a split second later, Verona, Marishka, and Aleera appear before you, awaiting word from Vlad. “If Van Helsing has truly been bitten, they will go for the cure, I want you to go and stop them. Stop them and bring the cure to me.” They disappear as fast as they arrive, flying off in a mixture of shrieks and laughs. 

“And as for you, my darling.” Turning to look at you before you promptly cut him off. “No, I’m staying right here.” He protests, but you shut those down as well. “No, Vlad. You remember what happened the last time Van Helsing broke into our home and we were both apart from one another.” The question was rhetorical, and it seemed to garner the reaction that you wanted, Vlad seeming to be in deep thought. He slowly nods his head, but points back over to the door. “Fine, but you stay over there. Out of the way, you forget that you are still human, my darling.”

You wait anxiously by the door like Vlad told you, watching as lightning strikes and fills the room with an eerie green glow. Throwing your arms over your head for some form of protection as you hear a shout of “Give me life!” echo through the room. “One more bolt and my young will live!” You watch as Vlad suddenly becomes enraged, flying through one of the glass windows of the room. 

Moments later Van Helsing drops through the open tower that leads into the middle of the room, setting a few Dwergi on fire as he bursts through machinery. He stumbles as he stands back up, face twisted in confusion and pain, looking around the room. He spots you by the door, in your dress, covered in jewels with your hair done, looking every bit the part of one of Vlad’s brides. He looks betrayed, and for a moment you feel a sharp pain in your chest, wishing that you could say something to him, but before you could even think of what to say, Vlad drops back down, quietly behind Gabriel, sneaking up on him. 

“You are too late, my friend! My children live!” Vlad exclaims, stalking towards Gabriel, “Then the only way to kill them, is to kill you.” Nodding his head with a loose hand gesture, “Correct.” This causes Gabriel to laugh as he moves in front of the window, “Then so be it!” dropping his coat off as the clock strikes midnight. He transforms into a wolf with each toll of the clock as Vlad gives you a quick look before feigning surprise, maniacally laughing. 

“We are both part of the same great game, Gabriel! But we need not find ourselves on opposite sides of the board!” Quickly changing himself as he and Gabriel begin fighting one another. You duck down quickly next to a barrel as they traverse the whole room, explosions following their movements. 

You watch as Vlad throws a board off of himself, walking towards the middle of the room. “You are being used, Gabriel, as was I, but I escaped, so can you!” Before quickly flying off as Van Helsing jumps for him. You gasp as Vlad is thrown to the ground in a sound of extreme pain, revealing a broken wing. Watching as he jumps up to a platform, before falling, rolling over to his side to reveal that he is covered in blood and scratches. Van Helsing extends his claws before dragging them down a pillar in a threatening manner, jumping up to Vlad.

“Don’t you understand?” Backing away from Van Helsing, there’s a very obvious limp in his gait, causing you to step out from your spot, moving closer to where the two are. “We could be… We could be friends! Partners! Brothers in arms!” trying in vain to get away as Van Helsing catches him by the neck. You scream out his name, moving towards him before an arm is quickly gestured in your way, a sign for you to stay away. 

“Did I mention that it was you who murdered me? It must be such a burden, such a curse, to be the left hand of God.” Quickly appearing behind Van Helsing, “All I want is life, Gabriel. The continuation of my kind.” He throws a look towards you before holding up his hand, ring finger suddenly missing, “And perhaps the return of my ring! Don’t be afraid Gabriel, don’t be afraid. I shall give you back your life, your memory.” 

You miss the rest of what happens as a vial is placed in your hand. Snapping your head around your met with Verona, her vampiric face covered in scratches and bloody marks. “Give it to him, we must finish holding off the monster and the girl.” Flying back off to wherever she came from, you turn around right as Van Helsing jumps across the room, pinning Vlad to a piece of machinery, catching him off guard. 

He struggles to fight him off, Van Helsing's mouth getting closer and closer to Vlads neck. Vlad is using both hands to try and keep the werewolf as far away from him as possible, so giving him the cure is out of the option. 

There’s only one thing that you can do. 

Running across the room you’re able to make it to the pair right as Vlad’s arms give out from the effort of keeping Van Helsing away. He goes in for the finishing move but before he can your shoe scuffs against the floor, gaining his attention. He turns around, growling, pouncing on you without even a second look. You gasp as you’re hit, vaguely registering Vlad scream as you fly through the air with the wolf, quickly sticking the syringe into his side as you hit against a pillar, landing limply on the ground. 

Eyes wide open, but not seeing, slowly clouding over as you breathe your last breath, leaving nothing but a corpse on the floor. 

~~~

“No! What have you done!” words screamed throughout the room, Dracula making an ear-piercing shriek as he made his way across to you, pulling you into his arms, gently cradling your head. Cries of pain and shock are heard throughout the room as Gabriel turns back into himself, dropping to his knees before the dead body of his friend. 

Dracula is muttering words to you that Gabriel can’t understand as the three brides come bursting in through a window, one of them grabbing him by his shoulders and throwing him out the window onto the bridge that connects to the mirror they came through. On the bridge he is met with the sight of Anna, Carl, and the Frankenstein Monster slumped against the reflective surface. He approaches, shaking the shoulders of Anna and Carl to wake them up. Anna awakens first, groggily, “What is it? What happened?” placing her hand atop of Gabriels, the fog of her mind clearing away as she realises that Gabriel is crying. “What is it, Van Helsing, what has happened? Is Dracula dead?” He shakes his head, mummering your name quietly. “What about her? Is she alright?” He makes eye contact with Carl who is now also awake, watching as the realisation hits Carl, lip quivering “She’s dead.” Carl says with a finality, hanging his head and also crying. 

Van Helsing places his hand and quietly murmurs the word that will get the door to open before standing up and limping his way through. 

Damn the Vatican, as far as they’ll know, Dracula was defeated.

~~~

“No! What have you done!” words choked out through his injured throat. He lets out a shriek that will summon his Brides to him, running towards you before swooping to his knees, grabbing you, watching as your limbs remain limp, head flopping on a broken neck. He can feel the tears come, feel them burning tracks through his skin but he can’t find it in himself to care. He’s vaguely aware of Verona riding the room of Van Helsing, before all three of his brides drop sadly next to him, all of them holding onto you. Cries echo throughout the room, his pain is their pain, but their pain is also their own, given all the bonding they had done with you over the past few days. 

He places one hand upon your chest, right over your heart, and that’s when he feels one faint, barely-there swoosh of blood travelling through the organ. 

It’s not too late.

Ducking his head down immediately to latch his teeth onto your neck, draining you of your blood. He holds his arm out, feeling a nail slice down his wrist, not sure who’s but it really doesn’t matter. He holds his hand to your face as he continues to drink your blood, watching his own trickle into your mouth. He pulls away from you, leaning his head towards his shoulder to wipe his mouth off, waiting for the cut on his wrist to heal itself, deeming that enough of his blood had been shared. 

You remain eerily still. Not a twitch of the muscles, a blink of the eye, nothing. “Normally there would be a reaction by now.” words murmured to himself, but are met by the supportive whispers and touches of his Brides. “Oh, my Lord.” Verona speaks, running a gentle hand across his face, “It takes some time, you remember how long it was until it took with Marishka. We waited almost all night.” Marishka murmurs her agreement, remembering the words spoken to her when she had awoken to her new life, ‘We thought you weren’t going to make it.’ But she had made it, and surely you would too. 

“Let's move her to her room, master.” Aleera standing up and moving towards the door, “She will be more comfortable there.” Vlad can’t help but agree, moving his arm that wasn’t cradling your head under your knees and scooping you up, making his way towards the door. He walks quietly through the halls, dropping you gently on the bed before making his way to the bathroom to retrieve a damp linen to wipe the blood off with. When he arrives back in the main suite he notices that his Brides have already removed all your jewels and undressed you, finding a soft shirt that Vlad briefly recognizes as one of his own to take the place of the dress you were wearing. 

He quietly wipes down your shoulder where he bit you, small flakes of dry and crusted blood coming off with ease. He then tosses the linen off to the side and takes a gentle seat next to you on the bed so as to not jostle you around. 

Vlad is a patient man, and vows to sit and wait for as long as you may need. 

~~~

You wake up in the room that belongs to you and Vlad. Sunlight shining in through the large windows, filling the room with tiny fragments of rainbows. You turn your head to the side and gaze upon your husband sleeping peacefully beside you, not being able to help the soft smile that overtakes your face. Leaning back down to place a flurry of kisses along the warm skin of his face, giggling quietly to yourself. 

The quiet romanian muttering as he stretches all his limbs at once alert you to the fact that you have succeeded in waking him up, watching as he cracks one eye open for only a split second before it closes again. “It is far too early, my darling.” His arm comes to pull you back down towards the plush surface of the bed, wrapping you up snug against himself. “Too early? Vlad, it's daytime.” “Still far too early for my taste, and besides, you should be getting all the rest you can.” A finger poking gently at your stomach. “It will be good for you both.” 

You don’t argue, cuddling up to him and placing your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. 

Wait, Vlad doesn’t have a heartbeat. 

You snap open your eyes, the room is no longer sunny, it’s stormy and reeks of death. You’re covered head to toe in blood and Vlad’s dead body is laying in the centre of the room, hand clutching his chest, a pool of blood surrounding him. 

You spin around, breathing, panicking, turning towards the doorway when a hand of claws snatches you up by the neck; Gabriel. He walks you to the window before throwing you out, you fall, plummeting towards your doom, when all of a sudden you stop.

You stop mid-air, something catching you. Turning your gaze upwards assuming you’d find something holding yourself, something that was preventing you from falling, only to find nothing but clear sky. You hear the gentle whooshing of wings, grey clipping through your line of sight out of your peripheral vision. Frantically looking around, slightly panicked you realise that the wings are yours. Looking down at the rest of you only to be faced with the sight of ashy grey skin, hands lifting up revealing lithe fingers with monstrous claws. 

You don’t panic, no, instead you revel in it. Smiling to yourself as you launch yourself into the sky, wings working furiously to move you higher and higher, and you bask in the feeling of freedom that it brings you. You move up towards the clouds, white filling your vision. 

And then you wake up. 

~~~

You open your eyes, overwhelmed by everything you see. 

It’s as if the whole world has changed, everything is so much more clear than it used to be. You can see everything; the intercrossing of the fabric of the sheets that lay overtop of you, the various colours of the flickering flames in the fireplace across the room, the detail of each individual snowflake that falls in front of the window. Turning your vision to the left, finding Vlad sitting on the edge of the bed facing the wall. 

Moving a hand from where it lays across your chest to place it gently on his arm. He jumps in surprise as you snap him out of whatever melancholic reverie that he was in, head snapping around to gaze at you in pure disbelief and relief. He scoops you up into a sitting position as he pulls your torso against his own in what should have been, quite literally, a bone crushing hug. “I thought it hadn’t worked.” words muffled from where his head lays pressed against the crook of your neck. “You were so still for so long, I… Never, never leave me again, I couldn’t bear it.” 

Pulling your head back slightly, Vlad doing the same, the two of you hold eye contact for a moment, opening your mouth to say something you instantly grimace, closing it back and reaching a hand up to grasp your throat, a searing pain now making itself known, a pain that you recognize as thirst. “Are you hungry?” Nodding your head to him at the same time the door to the room bursts open, Verona, Marishka, and Aleera pouring into the room in a symphony of ethereal echoings and giggles. Aleera is carrying a cup of a viscous red fluid which she then hands over to you. “Perfectly aged, to tide you over until we can get to the village.” 

Taking the contents of the cup with greedy gulps, you find that it doesn’t taste as metallic as you would’ve thought, in fact it’s not metallic at all, it’s actually rather sweet. It helps the pain in your throat enough that you can pretend it’s not there, at least until you get some more. The other four people in the room watching your reaction, and as you tilt the cup all the way to the ceiling to try and get the last dregs from it there’s a deep chuckle from Vlad. 

“Don’t worry, my darling, we’ll leave for the village and then you may sate your thirst.” 

The girls grab you, pulling you up from the bed, once the sheet drops you realise that you’re back in your dress, fully looking the part of your new life. There’s giggling and excitement filling the air, and you can help but practically vibrate in place from the joy that’s coursing through your veins. Once you’re up you all prance out the door and into the hallway. 

Vlad watches on in contentment at the billowing of green, yellow, pink, and blue fabrics through the hallway, the four of you radiating sheer joy and happiness. 

You’re not exactly sure where you’re going, but you follow the girls willingly. They lead you to a large room with dramatic arches on the ceiling, and large, sheer drapes hanging down from various spots. There’s a thick stone coffin with no top lying in the dead centre of the room surrounded by tall candelabras and you assume that it’s Vlad’s, which leads you to wonder where the girls sleep. Across the room there’s a carved out arch that leads to nothing but a solid wall, and you wonder what it’s even there for. When Vlad finally does catch up to you he throws his arms out wide, welcoming all four of you to him. When you’re all together you begin to slide across the floor towards the wall, the second you come into contact with it, you seem to almost melt through it, coming out the other side to a room that you remember being in Castle Frankenstein. 

It’s a portal. 

There’s an open skylight in the room that it leads out into, and when the girls begin to transform you know that’s your exit to the village. They fly up, leaving you and Vlad alone in the room, but hovering over the Castle, flying around in circles until you’re ready to join them. 

You stand awkwardly for a moment, turning to look at Vlad. “Um, how do I, you know,” arm coming up to gesture loosely towards the sky. “There’s really no way to explain it, you don’t think, my darling, you just do it.” Transforming himself, lapels melding into wings before he too, takes flight. 

“Oh yes because that advice is so helpful.” mumbling under your breath even though you know that he can hear you still, nevertheless you try to take his advice, willing yourself to fly, closing your eyes tight and balling up your fists to focus. When you hear cackles of laughter close by you open your eyes back up, realising that you’ve lifted through the skylight and are in-fact flying. Your skin grey to match the wives, equipped with claws and teeth of your own. 

You fly in a few test circles before giving a reassuring nod to them all. Then, you all take off towards the village. As you fly, you notice three horses racing through the mountains out of the corner of your eye, your newfound heightened senses allowing you to see miles ahead of where you used to be able to before. 

Upon one of the horses, is someone in a shaggy brown cloak; Carl. On the second, someone with a head full of curls, bouncing behind them with the movement of the horse; Anna. And on the last, someone who wears a leather coat and a hat, someone who with all his training surely recognises the feeling of the eyes that lay upon him as his head turns to look back, someone who notices that there is one more bat in the air than there used to be, someone who ignores this fact as he turns back around and continues on his way.

And so do you. 

~

Originally posted April 14th, 2023.

[gothy-froggy]

Won’t you Join me?

Tarhos Kovács x noble!Fem!reader

I see there is yet another drought for Tarhos. Fear not my beloveds! I am here to save you for the time being.

Warnings: fluff, reader is a sweetheart, Tarhos being confused and awkward, historically inaccurate for the sake of a cute fic, not proofread, short one shot

Summary: There is a small ball once again and Tarhos witnesses another. Bored and irritated by most noble snobs, he stands outside. A noblewoman talks to him to his surprise. Is this maybe a possible future blooming between the two?

——————————-

“Toscano! I am pleased to see that you could come.” The older woman greeted Vittorio as he and personal knight walked inside. It was always the same. Many men and woman in fancy big outfits. Most likely costing a fortune for each clothing piece.

“And you have brought..a friend.” The older noblewoman said, her judgmental tone seeping through her words. Toscano introduced Tarhos for him.

“Welcome, Sir knight.” A younger noblewoman greeted him with a small curtsy. Tarhos stared at her with no reply. How odd. She actually decided to notice him? The older woman gave the noblewoman a disappointing look before guiding Vittorio around for a tour.

Tarhos knew it was his time to leave and stand outside. Or at least under his rules. Too many people stare and raise a hand to another’s ear to gossip and judge. He walked out, standing outside. He hated how privileged these people were. He stared at the view in front of him. He wondered what the piece of freedom that nobles had really feels like. He desired it. No, he deserves it, not these foolish, ungrateful, slimy-

“Are you all right?”

Tarhos’ internal ramble came to an end. He sharply turned to see the same noblewoman who greeted him. He just stared intensely at her through his helmet. Her hand slipped away from the building to the side of her formal dress as she walked up to him.

“You shouldn’t wait out here.” Her voice was in a softer than how it was inside. More quieter, fitting for a conversation between two people. She lightly tilted her head with a small smile on her face.

“Do you often wait outside for him?”

“I prefer it.” He grumbled out loud enough for her to hear.

“Why?” She questioned the armored man, inching closer. Tarhos kept his gaze ahead.

“They judge with the privilege they possess.” He hesitated to answer. She was a noble herself. She lightly sighed through her nose.

“I never understood that. I apologize, on behalf of them-”

“Don’t.”

Tarhos cut her off. He looked down at her, his hair slightly spilling out.

“You aren’t like the others.”

A smile crept onto her face as she glanced down, a small portion of shyness kicking in from his words.

“Tarhos, was it? How did you manage to work under Toscano?” She stood next to him and raised her hand. Tarhos quickly caught on, holding his arm out and letting her hands rest on his forearm. They began walking around the building, following the torches.

—————————-

She lightly laughed, telling her own stories to Tarhos. Tarhos smiled ever so lightly under his helmet. His head tilted to the side to show that he’s listening to her stories and words.

“I have to say, I have been enjoying your presence, Kovács.” She lightly giggled after her words. Her silly story still having an affect on her. Tarhos eventually gave his full attention to her as she slowed down from walking. She stared up at him.

“May I be selfish and ask to see your face?” She whispered. Tarhos couldn’t understand why, but she had allured him. Possible bewitched him. Tarhos slowly took his helmet off, keeping it under his arm. She raised her hands up as Tarhos bent down more towards her level. Her hands brushing over his jawline, sending a shiver down Tarhos’ spine. Her finger tracing over his scars.

“I think…” She started, pausing while observing all the facial features again.

“You’re beautiful.” She finished her abandoned sentence. Tarhos let out a shaky breath as he closed his eyes. A warm woman’s touch could weaken anyone. Apparently even Tarhos. She kept her hands on both sides of his face, her thumbs lightly running across his skin. She a bright smile.

“Won’t you join me?”

Tarhos opened his eyes and stared into hers. He didn’t answer her. She stepped a bit closer.

“Come, let’s have a dance.” She tried to convince the knight. He glanced back at the building, hearing the faint music.

“It is best that I do not.” He declined.

“Please?” She begged. Tarhos looked at her for a few seconds. He took a step back, placing his helmet back on. His heart ached seeing the joy leave her expression.

“Another time, my lady.” He rejected, his tone softening letting her down this time.

“If you change your mind, I will be inside, Kovács.” She lightly lifted her dress as she began walking back.

“Tarhos.” 

She stopped, turning back around to look at him.

“Goodnight, Tarhos.” She gave him another small curtsy before heading back inside.

Tarhos watched her leave. He was conflicted. Originally, he thought that all nobles were maggots, but she has proved him wrong. She made him feel something different. Something he had never felt before.

Time flew by as he was in his thoughts.

“Tarhos.” A familiar voice called out. Vittorio stood a few feet away from him with the stern face he always carried. His cool tone making it.

“We’re leaving.” Tarhos walked over to Vittorio, heading back into the carriage. The ride back home, Tarhos was lost in his own little world. Once he has his money and he buys his three friends’ freedom, he is coming back to that noblewoman.

She was so different. She treated him like he was someone. He enjoyed it. He enjoyed her company, just her alone. And he wanted more. He now swore to come back and marry the kind woman. As she is too soft to be alone in this cruel world. She was going to be his, as his heart is already hers.

—————————-

*bonus*

The screams from others run around to desperately escape filled the air between the walls. The noblewoman was dragged away by a maiden.

“This way my lady!” She whispered yelled, pulling her by the hand while sneaking down the steps. The maid screamed, getting pulled away by a man with a red scarf.

“Let me go!” The noblewoman screeched as a manic laugh met her ears.

“We can’t do that now, can we? Sir wants you, my lady.” The man cackled, saying his words in a mocking tone. The man carried the woman outside, pushing her against something hard. It was like armor. She looked up, seeing a familiar armored man with hair spilling out the helmet.

“…Tarhos?”

[vanishingcherry]

Hi!🪄

Can you do a story where the readers is a chubby girl and Harry's siblings and between her and Fred there is something going on (only Fred confessed his feelings).

The reader doesn't believe that Fred feelings are real because he used to make fun of her with George.

Harry and Hermione (as reader best friend) decide to help Fred to make you understand that his feelings are true ( Harry give him some advise on how have your attention: your favorite book, favorite flower, what you like to do on the weekend etc.). Hope you kinda understand what I meant- also, an happy ending?

The rest is up to you, thanks if you'll do it

i mean it

words: 1.4k

a/n: i have no experience and hence wasn’t sure how to write a chubby girl, i tried my best. please do tell me if i’ve written something wrong so that i can change it. 

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

Finding out that you, just like your brother, were also magical, was one of the best moments of your life. The one year in which Harry was at Hogwarts and you were at home was torture, the Dursleys giving you extra chores, forcing you to do everything around the house in an attempt to get you energetic. 

“You’re always so lazy. Get up and do something on your own for once, would you?”, your aunt berated one day when you sat down for a minute after trimming the bushes outside. 

However, the next summer when you got your letter, they calmed down, knowing that they couldn't stop you from going. You got sorted into Gryffindor and immediately did your best to become friends with everyone. However, to your dismay, a lot of people didn’t really want to become friends with you. 

Sometimes, you would hear them talking while you took a shower.

“She’s so fat, it looks weird she would be much prettier if she exercised a bit.”

“Yeah, or maybe if she went on a diet. My cousin went on one and...”

Most of the time, you tried to block it out, trying to stay optimistic. You figured that it would jut take some time, but you would fit in, sooner or later. 

Meanwhile, you became best friends with Hermione Granger, who Harry introduced you to. She was great, always helping you with schoolwork and the two of you loved spending time with each other. You mainly hung out with Harry’s friends, who didn’t mind having you around and definitely didn’t tease you, so having another girl in a group was life saving.

Ron, however, wasn’t exactly your favourite. Not because he was bad or anything, but because of his brothers. Fred and George, the troublesome twins that just never seemed to leave you alone. They made all the teasing worse, spreading rumours about how you tried losing weight but couldn’t, or how You-Know-Who cursed you as well, so you would be chubby forever.

You absolutely despised the two of them, hating how everyone laughed at your face when you saw them whispering to each other in the common room. You would find yourself crying in your dorm after lights out, hating the way they and everyone else made you feel. Soon enough, you did start dieting, or tried to at least. 

You would skip one meal a day, instead taking a walk outside. Hermione and Harry realised almost immediately, and started escorting you to meals, making sure one of them was always next to you, making sure you ate enough. You appreciated the effort, of course, but sometimes you wished they hadn’t realised. 

A couple days later, you accidentally walk up the boys dorm while reading a book and hear some shouting. Looking up, you see the door open. Ron and Harry are shouting at Fred and George, who look solemn.

“Are you bloody mad? She already feels like shit, you don’t need to add to it.” You hear Ron’s voice yelling at the top of his lungs. “Mum raised us better than this.”

Harry was stood to the side, adding points in between, slightly conflicted as the Weasleys had been nothing but nice to him. “Look guys, I and Y/N would appreciate it if you just stopped. It’s hurting her and me.”

Fred looked to the side and saw you. Making eye contact, you leave, running to your dorm, avoiding all four of the boys for the next few days. 

Eventually, they apologize and you accept it.

---

For the next few years, you kept distance from them, and they from you. Occasionally you would run into each other when you stayed over at the Burrow, but other than that, they stopped troubling you and you didn’t say much to them.

One night when you were back at Hogwarts, you were coming back from a late night study session in the library when Fred took ahold of your arm. 

“Hey, uh, can I talk to you?” His voice was unsure, nervous. 

Frowning, you replied. “Yeah, is something wrong?”

“No uh, look I- I wasn’t sure how to do this so um- I like you.”

Taken aback, you double check to make sure your ears weren’t deceiving you. When he repeats what he said, you can’t help but start laughing. 

“You’re not being serious. Look, if this is some sort of elaborate joke, it’s not working Fred.” You head back to your dorms, leaving Fred standing there in the middle of the hallway, a shocked look on his face. 

He realises that you didn’t trust him anymore, not after the way he treated you. Honestly, he didn’t blame you. He was downright stupid for treating you like that, and he really did regret it. At that moment, he decided that he would do everything he could to make you like him.

Over the next few weeks, unbeknownst to you, he was constantly cornering Harry and Hermione, asking them what all you liked in order to gain your attention. At first the both of them were confused, wary at his sudden interest in you. But, after he confessed to them the reason behind his endeavours, they were more than happy to help. 

Harry would tell him funny stories from your childhood, while Hermione would share with him your favourite books and things you did over the weekend.

Following that, you would often enter the common room to find Fred on one of the couches, lounging as he read some of the books you liked. It was a surprise every week as he picked up a new one. One day, you decided to go over to him.

“Nice book?”, you asked. 

“Yup! This bit’s actually really interesting.” Fred tilts the book towards you, so that you can read what chapter he’s on.

“Hmm.”

He scoots over and pats the space next to him, inviting you to read with him. Taking a quick glance at the clock, you figured you could take a break for a while before going back to studying, and sat down next to Fred. It became a habit, every day the two of you would read a chapter together before you went your separate ways. It soon became his and your favourite part of the day. 

“Do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?”, Fred asked one night. “We can go to Honeydukes, i’ve been wanting some Peppermint Toads.” He had remembered a conversation with Hermione in which she revealed to him your favourite candy. 

“You like Peppermint Toads? Huh. I always put you up as a Fizzing Whizzbees type of guy.”

Fred scratched behind his neck as he awkwardly chuckled. “No, I like Peppermint Toads quite a bit. Come with me, won’t you? I’ll pay.”

Giving a small smile, you accept. 

---

You and Fred got extremely close over the next few months, and you found yourself developing a small crush on him. However, you were still hesitant, remembering the way he treated you when you were younger. 

A few days later it was Valentine’s Day, and Fred figured it was the perfect day to try again.

He walked up to you with a bouquet of your favourite flowers and handed them to you with a shy smile, cheeks and ears bright red. 

“Thank you? Happy Valentine’s to you too Fred.”

“I like you. I meant what I said last term. I really did mean it, I swear.”

You sigh, not sure how to reply. “Fred, look, I like you too, I do. But I just-”

“You don’t trust me.”

“No, it’s not that I don’t trust you, I-”

“I know what I did Y/N, and I am so, so, so sorry. I was stupid and young and I meant it when I apologized. Look, I get that you might not want to go into this, but I just need one chance. I promise I’ve changed.”

You stay silent for a second, thinking of whether or not you should give him the chance. He really did seem to have changed, and he had been really nice to you. Plus, the part of you that crushed on him was going crazy right now. 

“Okay, yeah!”

“Really?”

“Yeah, c’mon.” You look your arm through his, the other still holding the flowers, as you head to great hall. 

“Wait uh, how did you know that this was my favourite flower? And come to think of it, you’ve been really interested in my favourite things recently.”

“Oh, um, Harry and Hermione sorta helped, y’know like told me what all you liked.”

“They did huh?”

---

a/n: i wasn’t sure how to end it, so sorry about that.

[kitthepurplepotato]

Chapter 2 - It’s not a date! … or is it?!

Summary: Aizawa-sensei makes it really hard to not think about this outing as a date; he looks gorgeous, the conversation flows so easily and you both spill all your secrets to each other like it’s the most normal thing between two almost-strangers. You really start to wonder if this is all just you being way too invested in this fake date or there is really something in the air.

Warnings: Swear words, mentions of Eri’s past, mentions of child-neglect. 16+

First chapter Master List

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“What am I supposed to wear?!” You yell into your phone.

It’s 8AM. You are meeting up with your niece’s teacher in two hours and all you’ve managed to do since you wake up was to put on a bra, an underwear and freak the shit out in the middle of doing so, ending up sprinting between your dresser and your full body mirror, almost naked.

You are a fucking adult who’s about to turn 30. By the way. An adult who has a child to take care of… you can only hope no one hears your inner thoughts and calls child protection on you, thinking you are incapable of raising a teenager. Honestly, you have no idea how you had made it to this point in your life. You are a fucking mess.

“You called me in the middle of my class stating ‘it’s an emergency… for this?!” Megumi laughs, clearly not believing your shenanigans.

“Shut up brat, this is all your fault! You forced me to do this so suffer with me!”

“He likes the color black. I hope that helps.” She murmurs, happily.

“You want me to meet your teacher while looking like I’m about to go to someone’s funeral?!”

“Have you seen the guy you are about to meet?” Megumi retorts and fuck, she is right.

“Funeral wear it is, then.” You can hear Megumi’s distant giggle as you end the phone call and decide to wear the black dress Megumi bought for you; it suits her more than it suits you but to be absolutely honest you’ve always been envious of your niece’s badass style because you’ve just never had the balls to leave your house in a rebellious attire. Well, ladies and gents and everyone in between, today is the day when you wear the Dr. Martens boots you’ve never used and make an absolute fool of yourself in front of your child’s teacher. Honestly, why not. It isn’t an actual date anyway, if it all goes wrong at least you have a great story to tell.

You take a quick selfie and send it to Megumi who sends you a bunch of emojis you can’t understand, but overall, it looks like an approval so you finish the set with a bit of eyeliner and mascara, just as heavy as your attire.

You really hope Aizawa sensei wants to have his coffee at My Chemical Romance concert, otherwise this will be really awkward.

Oh well, you are out of time to change your mind about your attire now.

You take a deep breath as you head towards UA, hoping that 3 tough plasters and a special sock will be enough to keep your feet safe from the evil boots on your feet.

~•🩶•~

You’re 15 minutes early. The area around UA is silent; it’s too early for the media presence and the students are all in class together with their teachers. You are just about to sit down on a nearby bench and make yourself comfortable for the next fifteen minutes when someone clears his throat behind you; Aizawa-sensei looks at you questioningly, with a hint of a smile quirking up his lips.

“Did Megumi-Chan force you to wear this today?” He asks, amused.

He looks absolutely stunning; his usually unruly hair is pulled into a pony tail, his bangs loose at the front which makes him look so much softer; he wears black jeans with a plain black shirt and a trench coat, his signature scarf and his usual eyepatch.

“Half Megumi and half midlife crisis.” You deadpan, already hating all your life decisions. And also, this joke. It really wasn’t that funny.

Apparently, Aizawa sensei has a fucked up sense of humor because he snorts and makes his way towards the other side of road.

“Let’s talk about your midlife crisis over a cup of coffee. I hope you don’t mind if I give you a ride.” He tries his best to smile but it looks so forced you can’t help but laugh. “What?”

“You really need to love your class to do this for a student. I’m glad my girl has such a great homeroom teacher.” You smile fondly at the grumpy man.

“I’m just doing my job.” He mumbles with a straight face and opens the door for you; he tries to fake nonchalance but you can’t miss the hint of dusty pink appearing on his cheeks. This man loves a good praise. Good to know.

The car ride is awkward and silent, none of you really know what to say. If this would be an actual date you would probably start freaking out but you know he’s only doing this for the sake of your niece, so you decide to leave it as it is. He stops at a medium sized coffee place; their logo is really cute, it’s full of tiny drawings of kittens, tiny paws splattered all over the background and the inside looks warm and cosy, cats wondering between the legs of the customers, begging for food.

Wait.

Cats?!

“Aizawa-sensei… is this a fucking cat coffee?!” You laugh out loud before entering place.

“Language.” He sighs. “It was my son’s idea. I have no idea how to do this dating thing.”

You are not sure which part do you wanna question first; the one about his son or the fact that he called this an actual date. You decide to start with the former.

“You have a son?!”

“… Let’s sit down first. I should have asked if you are allergic to cats shouldn’t I?” The man radiates an anxious energy which surprises you; if this is just a fake date why is he so worried?

“I love cats.” You smile as you sit down on the corner sofa; thankfully, the place is almost empty so you will be able to have a personal conversation without being disturbed or have the need to yell over a group of random people. Date or not, you do want to know more about Megumi’s teacher and you genuinely like him, so no one can judge you for trying, right?

The two of you sit down next to each other and order right away; Aizawa-sensei gets a cold brew without any milk or sugar while you order their signature coffee latte which apparently comes with a handmade latte art. Aizawa must have a second secret quirk as all the cats gang up on him right away; there are two fluffy Maine coons staring at him from the floor, waiting to be pet. Aizawa wears a tiny smile as he takes one of them in his hands and puts the ball of fur down on his lap to slowly stroke their fur to calm himself. The cat looks really happy in his new place, purring contently with every caress.

“So you have a son.” You go back to your last topic without hesitation.

“You are just as nosy as your niece.” He sighs again. “I have a son and a daughter. Their name is Hitoshi and Eri. They aren’t mine biologically, I adopted them two years ago. Hitoshi was a student of mine who’s been neglected by his parents and ended up in an orphanage. Eri… Eri went through hell. My students found her during a mission. She’s only eight.” There is so much pain on his face you physically need to grab your own hand to stop yourself from reaching out.

“She’s so young…”

“That little girl went through things no one ever should. But she’s safe now. She’s struggling with a lot of trauma, but Hitoshi and I do our best to put her at ease.”

“You are amazing, you know that, right?” You smile sadly, your eyes shining with unshed tears. “You really are a hero. Taking two kids in as a single parent just to grant them the happiness they couldn’t ever have…”

“So are you.” Aizawa jumps in. “You’ve done the same for Megumi haven’t you?” He smiles; it’s barely there but it makes your heart rate quicken; he might be a broken man but there is just something about him; you thought it’s his mysteriousness that makes you so invested in him but looking at him right now after hearing his story makes you wonder if this is what people call “fate”; your heart makes another somersault at the thought. This isn’t a date - you remind yourself. “Want to tell me about it, Y/N?”

You end up telling him everything; from your shitty childhood to how you ended up taking care of Megumi and he thanks you by telling you his own story; you laugh, you cry and the conversation just flows naturally; the coffee gets cold by the time you manage to even realize it’s been delivered but you both drink it anyway and order a new one to prolong the date as much as possible. You really don’t want today to end.

Aizawa somehow manages to lure all the cats to his side of the sofa, all waiting patiently for their turn to be petted. You look at the hero with a fake pout, trying to look offended but probably failing miserably because you can’t hide the tiny smile as you look at Aizawa’s face; he looks proud and happy to be surrounded by all these fluffy animals, his face is so smooth and content you can only wonder if there was ever a person who could manage to soften him the same way these fluffy cats do; the answer is probably no. You really want to change that. Fuck’s sake you are way too invested in this date.

“I can’t believe you hog all the cats for yourself by the way, I’m offended.” You giggle while you look at the purring cats with pure jealousy; you try your best win them over by making sounds and letting them smell your hand in an offer of friendship but they don’t even bother to look your way.

“I don’t mind sharing.” Aizawa murmurs, scooting closer to the corner of the sofa while urging you to do the same; you meet in the middle, your knee touching his as he moves one of his fluffy companions to your lap but you can barely concentrate on the warm little body when you realize how cold and rigid Aizawa’s leg feels like around his shin ; that’s when you realize you are touching a piece of metal instead of a human leg. You try your best not to think about too much but it makes you remember the way he lost it; the story was all over the news and you remember crying, surrounded by other civilians within the safety of four massive walls and an unbreakable defense system, while this teacher crippled himself to save his student’s life. You shake your head once and start stroking the purring little creature who’s splayed over both of your legs now. There is a fluttering feeling in your heart but you are not sure if it’s thanks to the cute cat or the beautiful, highly respected man next to you. Probably both.

“Do you not have any questions about my prosthetic? It’s usually the first thing people ask about.” He mumbles while munching on a cat shaped pastry.

“You chopped your own fucking shin off to save the country.” You deadpan. “It’s common knowledge. And you are clearly more than capable to live without it, so I really don’t care about that and no one should. Are you self-conscious about it?”

“I only chopped the half of it off, don’t exaggerate.” Aizawa ‘jokes’. “I wouldn’t really say I am… but it did cross my mind today.” Aizawa admits. “My friend Hizashi was really excited about me leaving the school grounds and gave me all kind of silly tips and tricks to look nicer and I realized there’s no point in my case; I can’t hide my missing eye and I can only hide my prosthetic legs until things get serious. I’ve never really cared about my looks, but… it really bothered me today. For some reason.”

You can’t believe this man.

“I will say something really inappropriate right now, but I’m doing it for your own good.” You mumble with a red face. “I… kinda find your disheveled, battle-scarred look… attractive. And I also respect the shit out of you for what you’ve done for our country and for the kids… so if you wouldn’t be my kid’s teacher…” You are incapable of making an eye contact right now so you just stare at the 5 cats roaming around Aizawa.

“Please, do not finish that sentence.” Aizawa hides his face in embarrassment. You can’t help but laugh at that.

“Aizawa-sensei, you are really handsome. And kind. And really attractive. Deal with it.”

“Such a smooth talker you are.” He grumbles under his nose. “My name is Shouta by the way.”

The time freezes as he says his name; being on a first name basis is a really meaningful thing in Japan and it’s definitely not something you let others do after one not-a-date.

“Shouta.” You look up at the hero, your cheeks dusted with pinks and reds. He looks confused and surprised, like the words are just coming out of his mouth without his knowledge and he can’t make it stop.

The moment gets ruined when Shouta’s phone starts to ring; he looks at the evil machine with a frown.

“Well, somehow we ended up talking until the afternoon and I need to get Eri from school now.” He sighs. You don’t want this to end. Fuck, you know you are getting way to invested in this and you know he’s not feeling the same about you, but… “Do you want to meet her?” … or he is. Oh god, your heart can barely keep up with the mess of emotions inside you. “I can make us proper lunch after. I’m quite sure Megumi-chan won’t mind you staying out late for one day.” Aizawa doesn’t look into your eyes and it’s so endearing; he makes it sound like it’s not a big deal but you’ve been talking each other’s ears off for hours now yet he doesn’t want you to leave. Your heart stutters and the butterflies are having a blast in your stomach as you shyly nod while biting your lips to ground yourself.

“I would love to.”

… Next Chapter!

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Potato ramble:

- So. People with prosthetic legs can drive a car but people advice them to get an automatic one for obvious reasons. They can also continue driving with one eye if they have a good enough vision in the other eye to meet the legal standards and are adapted to their new condition. Thank you for listening to all this random information you’ll hopefully never need in your life. 😂

- People can’t pick up cats in cat cafe’s though, so please don’t do that. 🐈

- I really need to stop overthinking this fanfiction.

Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! 🩶🐈

Taglist: (just send a comment if you would like to be added!) @cheesenmax

[homelanderbutbig]

You Trust Me, I Trust You Too (G/T Homelander x Reader)

2292 words. Hurt/comfort and some fluff. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Beginnings of a relationship.

The first time you got Homelander to trust you.

Homelander never calls anyone for a meeting in his penthouse, and it's pretty well known amongst the staff that anyone invited up there is generally never seen again. For that reason, you are unsure of how to react when you are told he has requested your attendance alone in the penthouse.

You just started your job at Vought a few weeks ago. To you, it is simply another desk job with a far better paycheck than what you've ever had before. Despite your best efforts to be friendly, none of your co-workers appear to be particularly interested in becoming acquainted with you. Everyone at Vought seems to value their work above your attempts to make small talk.

All you really know about 'The Seven' is pretty basic, mainly just their names and faces. You've probably passed them by on the street in their secret identities and you didn't even recognize them. Homelander is another story. As the leader of 'The Seven', he is a commanding presence that is as charismatic as he is incredibly tall. Besides his height, you also can't help but notice how just his mere existence changes the atmosphere of any room he enters at Vought. Everyone becomes so tense around him, like they are terrified of what he will do. This is something you never understood. To you, he is just a really tall guy. He doesn't seem that frightening.

You've happened to be in the same room as Homelander at the Tower a few times, and the first time you saw him in person was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Being in the vicinity of someone so large that you only reach their abs is something you never expected to do in a million years. You swear you've seen him staring at you a few times, but you're pretty sure he must have been looking at someone else near you. Why would he even know who you are? Sure, you've said hello to him passing by in the halls, purely just to be polite, but he's never said anything back to you. You're so low down the Vought hierarchy that you may as well not even exist in his world.

Making your way up to the top floor, you step off the elevator and enter Homelander's penthouse. You can't help but gasp at the 'Alice in Wonderland' feeling you get upon walking inside. Everything is so enormous compared to you, like you are in another world completely. After a quick glance around, you spot Homelander staring out the window in his living room. He has not acknowledged you, but you're pretty sure he heard you come in, so you decide to make the first move.

"Hello sir," you say, keeping a respectable distance and trying to be as formal as possible. "You requested I come up here to speak with you, what did-"

"Who do you think you are?" Homelander interrupts bluntly, despite him not turning to face you yet. You can hear the contempt dripping from his voice, though you're not sure why.

"I'm sorry, sir?" you ask, now more confused than ever. You aren't nervous, but at the same time you aren't exactly sure where this conversation is going.

"Who. Do. You. Think. You. Are?" he repeats, making distinct breaking points in between his words, laced with a hatred you still do not understand. Finally, he slowly turns to face you, and you see the way he has been scowling at your words. He starts advancing towards you, hands behind his back, until he is close enough that you are forced to crane your head straight up to even see his face.

"You think you can just waltz into Vought and grab my attention like that?" Homelander huffs, furrowing his brow. "Like you are so fucking important?" Seeing his face twitch slightly, you start to comprehend you must have done something to upset him. However, for the life of you, you still can't figure it out. When you don't answer him fast enough for his liking, he exhales in frustration. He hates having to explain himself to the stupid mudpeople.

"I hear your heartbeat," Homelander clarifies, rolling his eyes. "Everyone here knows their place. They know they are all ants to me. They know to be afraid of me," he illustrates further, locking his eyes onto you like they will burn a hole through you any second. "What makes you think you are you so fucking special?" he snarls, bending down at the waist to loom his massive frame over you, letting his face hover directly above yours.

You become a bit unnerved at Homelander's display of bravado, but his remarks lead you to believe there is something deeper going on. If this bothered him so much, why would he want to meet you in private about this? Why wouldn't he have just thrown you off the Tower if he couldn't stand one person out of the hundreds that work here not being intimidated by him? This is a delicate subject matter to try and dissect, especially with the world's most powerful supe, so you try and tread carefully.

"I don't think I'm special," you reassure him, doing your best to maintain your composure as you keep your eyes on him. "I just treat everyone the way I want to be treated. I don't want anybody to be afraid of me, do you want me to be scared of you?"

You can see Homelander's angry expression weaken at those words, his face twitching like he is unable to process what he's just heard. Not only is your heartbeat remaining steady, you reveal your genuine feelings so matter-of factly. You talk to him like he's heard you do with your other worthless co-workers, like you just want to make him comfortable with you. It feels like you nonchalently put a crack in his armour, and now he has to recalculate how to get himself out of any further vulnerability.

"Why… why should I believe you?" he questions. You observe how despite his best efforts to appear tough, his voice falters slightly. He doesn't sound as sure of himself like when this conversation started. Something about his reaction leads you to believe maybe he's a lot more like you than he leads on, maybe he's just looking for a friend too.

"I don't have any reason to lie to you," you console him calmly, giving a timid smile. "I know how it feels to get lied to by people you think you can confide in. It hurts, and I don't want to do that to you."

Your innocent eyes, so full of care and understanding, become too much for Homelander to handle. He stands back up to his full height, averting his eyes from your gaze. This was not what he wanted. He was hoping to just chew you out and make you panic, so you'd fall in line with everyone else at Vought. Instead, you pour your heart out to him, like he is your friend… like he can trust you.

When he begins to feel tears forming in his eyes, he quickly turns away from you. The lonely child inside him has peaked through his cracked armour, and has seen your kindness. You aren't like the others Homelander has relied on before; you don't know him, and you aren't out to manipulate him. The only motivation you have is to understand him.

"Are you okay?" Homelander hears a sympathetic voice ask from behind… your voice. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."

Sorry… you said you are sorry. He's heard that word so many times, but it only comes from people being horrified that they angered him. Just to save their own lives from his raging temper. But this… you said you are sorry, because you are worried about his well-being. Whether or not you realize it, you just exposed his vulnerability. The part of himself he keeps hidden from the outside world, his humanity.

Homelander swallows, his jaw clenched tight, as he turns back to you. As if you really care about him, you show compassion when you see him blinking back tears. He feels his whole body tense as you slowly walk up to him, still with that concern on your face. Concern, and a consistently steady heartbeat. One that he can't help but focus on, one that makes him feel so small… one that isn't afraid of him.

"Could you…" you begin, hesitating. You want to try and help him feel better, but you are skeptical of how to ask him. When you see him completely fixate on what you are about to say, you decide to bite the bullet and go for it. "Could you… sit down for me?"

Enamoured by your request, Homelander sits down on the floor, with his knees bent up. You move yourself in between his legs to get closer to his face, noting how his hands are down by his sides, apprehensively clenched into fists. He is a bundle of nerves right now, but he can't stop himself from obeying you. He wants this, he wants someone to care for him.

As you calmly reach one hand out to Homelander's cheek, you can see the wide-eyed hesitation painted across his face. What you are doing is clearly uncharted waters for him. Sure, he's had his share of relationships in the past, but he's never felt this anxiety about them before. It's as if for once in his life the weight of the world is not on his shoulders. It's all on you.

When you make contact with his cheek, you slowly start stroking it delicately with the palm of your hand. Homelander is immediately absorbed by your touch, letting out a heavy sigh as he closes his eyes. He seems to forget his own strength as he leans into your chest, far too forcefully for you to keep your balance. Like a strong push, you are knocked back onto the ground from Homelander's sizable head. You are a bit surprised, your heartrate elevating slightly from the sudden fall, but you aren't hurt.

However, Homelander doesn't view it that way. He sees you on the ground, your shocked expression, your fast heartbeat... he's harmed you. Right when he starts to be vulnerable with someone, he's not only hurt them but he's scared them. Tears streaming down his face, he is unable to stop the torrent of thoughts spinning around his brain. Ever since he was a child, he's heard time and time again how he is a monster, an uncontrollable beast that can only destroy. As much as he's longed to break free from those labels, he knows he's wounded you and now you see him as a monster too.

Getting back up on your feet, you start to see him cry harder as he hyperventilates. Whatever boldness he was displaying on your arrival is completely gone. All you see now is a petrified little boy, in a body of a giant superhuman titan.

"Hey, hey…" you say softly, taking a few steps forward. "I'm okay, you didn't hurt me". He seems to steady slightly from hearing that, but he is still crying.

"Maybe… maybe you could hold me up with your hands?" you suggest, although you can see how uncertain Homelander is at this idea. "You don't have to grip me tight, just… keep me up. You trust me, right?". He nods silently, engrossed by you as you again come closer to his face. "Well… I trust you too."

You bring both of your hands back to his cheeks, caressing him gently. As if on command Homelander closes his teary eyes, though his breathing is still stuttered. You can feel his massive hands very hesitantly placed against your back as he leans cautiously into your touch. Even though this is nowhere near his first time handling a human, he is so afraid of injuring you again. He wants to do this right, he wants to be good for you.

"Shhh, shhh.." you soothe him. "Focus on my breathing. Follow along with me. Nice and slow, okay?". Homelander listens to everything you ask of him, matching his choppy breaths to your own peaceful ones. Slowly but surely, you feel the tension drain from his body as he relaxes into your fingers, nuzzling more and more into your tiny stature. Even though you are so petite compared to him, he feels like right now you are his entire world. A strange feeling he has never been permitted to experience, being able to put such a high level of faith in someone. Allowing a mere human to comfort the isolated child he's ignored for so many years, to give him affection.

Suddenly, you feel Homelander's hands envelop your body as he pulls you up to his chest. At first you don't understand what's happening, but then you realize… he's hugging you. You can't help but smile at this behemoth of a man being so gentle with you, and you wrap your arms around his neck to return the embrace.

"Th-thank… thank you," he mumbles ever so quietly, a far cry from the loud, booming voice you’ve generally heard him use. Regardless, you still feel the weight of his words and how much he truly means them.

"It's okay, Homelander," you reassure him, resting your head in the nape of his neck. "I'm just happy to be here for you."

You aren't sure how long you two ended up staying like this, but you don't mind. In the few weeks you've worked at Vought you hadn't made any friends yet, but know deep down this tender moment with Homelander is something so special you aren't going to forget it very easily.

[sentientgolfball]

A little gift for @copiasjuicebox :3 I hope you like it, I thought about it all day

Pairing: Copia/Reader (gn)

Word Count: 1211

Summary: Reader is anxious that they might be getting sick. Copia offers his best comfort.

It had been one hell of a week for you. The Ministry recently came into possession of some ancient texts that supposedly talked of ghoul mythology. You and a team of archivists were given the task of translating and rewriting the stories. There weren’t many, just three calfskin books. The problem lied in their condition. The papyrus was worn and the pigment used for the text was faded. Some pages were unlegible, marked in your notes to return to it later. You were only halfway through the first book by the end of the week and you couldn’t have been more grateful for a break. 

When the excitement of a new find finally worn off, you were only left with stress. You were worried about preservation, about getting a complete translation, about the possibility of the Clergy getting impatient and demanding a deadline. You worked yourself into the darkest hours of the night, determined to do as much as you could as fast as you could. You were beginning to regret this. 

It started as a simple headache, pressure building right between your eyes and spreading up. You ignored it. Then came the fatigue and you brushed it off as a symptom of your disrupted sleep schedule. When you woke up with a sore throat the panic finally set in. You couldn’t be sick. You have no time to be sick. Your mind couldn’t help but wander to the worst possible scenarios as you trudge back to your room from the archives. What if this thing knocked you out for days? A week? What if it was something worse than simple allergies from being a cramped, dusty room all day? What if you had to spend a night in the infirmary, oh you hated going to the infirmary. 

You were so lost in your thoughts you didn’t notice the sound of footsteps from around the corner. You try to make your usual turn, body on autopilot, but instead you crash into something solid. The figure lets out an ‘oof’ before apology after apology follows. You blink a few times, shake your head, and finally take a look at who you bumped into only tp be greeted by none other than Copia. 

“Please forgive me my head is ehh not here at the moment.”

“No Cardinal it’s my fault I should’ve been paying attention.”

“Copia.”

“Huh?”

“Please call me Copia. I am only Cardinal when the sun is out.”

You smile, “Then I’m sorry for running into you Copia.”

There’s a brief pause while you two just stare at each other. Copia fiddles with his hands, the sides of his mouth quirking up a few times. You can tell he has something on his mind and you decide to ignore the heavy feeling in your body to see if he’ll say it. 

“Apologies if I am ehh stepping out of a line here, but you do not look so well. You do not sound great either.” 

“Is it that obvious?” 

Even you can hear the scratch to your voice when you ask the question. You cringe at the feeling of dryness in the back of your throat. 

“I am afraid so” Copia nods, “you should go see Omega he can work wonders when you’re feeling ehh a little under the weather.” 

You feel a wave of cold creep through your body “I uh I’d rather not have to do that.” 

“Que? Well that is understandable he can be a bit intimidating at first. I am sure Aether wouldn’t mind a visitor.” 

“No it’s not the ghoul that’s the problem.” 

Copia raises an eyebrow and tilts his head. 

“I hate going to the infirmary. It’s like actually admitting I’m sick. I always feel worse leaving than I did before I showed up” you explain. 

There’s another long, awkward pause where Copia stares at you, tapping his chin in thought. His eyes widen and he snaps his fingers. 

“Follow me!”

He turns and starts walking down the corridor without looking to see if you’re following. 

“No infirmaries I promise just ehh trust me” he calls over his shoulder. 

You consider him for a moment before smiling and shrugging and moving to catch up with him. You end up following him all the way back to what you can only assume is his room. You hesitate when he opens the door for you, but when he looks at you with a lopsided, nervous grin you relent. It’s a little messy, trinkets and books and photos strewn about but it makes you feel at ease. It’s almost comforting seeing how well lived in the space is. You take a deep breath and though your nose is a little stuffy you can still pick up the hints of vanilla and lavender incense. 

“It is not much but I make do” he smiles at you. 

“I think it’s lovely.” 

He blushes a bit at the compliment before walking over to his desk. He pulls out a small box, muttering to himself while he sifts through the contents. You watch him as he works, setting out cups, filling a container of water. 

“It is a special blend of tea from Mountain. It is ehh meant to soothe sore throats and to help you sleep.” 

“Please do not be a stranger, make yourself at home” he works on preparing the tea. 

You happily take a seat on the small couch in the corner of his room. Your body aches and it feels like heaven to finally get off your feet. You sigh heavily and sink back into the softness of the cushions. When the tea is finished Copia sits down next to you. He takes a sip and curses when it burns his tongue. You steadily sip yours after letting it cool down a little. 

The lowlight of Copia’s room combined with the warmth of the tea has your eyes drooping faster than you can process it. You’re tired and your head feels heavy on your shoulders. You feel like you could sleep for days. You don’t even notice how close Copia has gotten while he filled the silence with whatever thoughts came to mind. He pauses in some rant about some new statue the Ministry is supposed to be receiving when he feels your head slump against his shoulder. He’s tense for a moment before setting his and your cups down. You suddenly remember where you’re at and jump up, quick to apologize.

“Please” he laughs “it is alright. If it will make you feel better I am ehh happy to oblige.” 

The rational side of your brain said it was an intrusion, but you were too tired and too anxious about the possibility of being sick to care. You settle back on the couch and, leaning against him, deciding the comfort of another was more important than any possible embarrassment. He pulls a blanket from the back of the couch to wrap around you two. You close your eyes, not willing to fight off sleep any longer. The warmth of his body, the sound of his heart, and the vibrations of some tune he’s humming are the perfect combination to finally put you at ease. You fall asleep with his arms wrapped around you. 

“Goodnight caro, sleep well.”

[sawyerslvt]

Johnny or Leland? | Episode 4

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This is a choose your own ending story. I have also included links to porn in this series, for better visualization ;) I haven't been feeling in a very 'writing mood' so please excuse the lack of episodes + this short one. I'm working on the endings but I can't get myself to love what I'm writing at the moment. I don't want to release stuff I'm not proud of. Hope you understand <33

Word Count: 1,346 Warnings: MDNI, abuse

It’s difficult to keep track of time when you have no clue what time of day it is. You feel like it's been days, maybe weeks? Johnny brings food and takes care of you like he said he would. You fail to see what the end goal is. Is he gonna kill you? Is he planning on releasing you or… is this it? Being held captive in his basement, keeping you alive but you don't get to live life. You’ve grown really fond of him, he’s the highlight of your day whenever he walks through that door. Sure, he’s the only human interaction you get, but it wasn't bad human interaction, certainly doesn’t feel like a hostage situation.  He’s kind and gentle. He sits down and eats with you, youre talking and laughing. If the circumstances were different, you would be head over heels in love with the man. And of course, he fucks you real good. Sometimes he’s rough and other times he’s slow, passionate and loving, making you wonder if he’s as fond of you as you are of him. 

Johnny can't stay with you all the time and he leaves you in the cold and dusty room alone. He brought you a blanket and pillows to keep you company and warm when he’s away. But other than that it was painfully quiet. Sometimes you swear that you hear Leland calling for you. It echoes in your head but when you call for him, you don't get a reply. You know it's your mind playing tricks on you, hallucinating, but you miss Leland. You’re scared of what might've happened to him. With your time alone, you find yourself thinking about him a lot. His playfulness, laugh and charm was burned into your mind, stinging more and more. It's not rare for you to cry as you imagine him holding you. You remember his desperate screams as you were pulled away by Johnny. You hate how complicated everything is. You hate that you can't decide between the two men when the answer should be so simple. 

Your thoughts get interrupted when you hear the familiar door open again. It's Johnny and he’s holding your breakfast… or lunch… or dinner, you're not really sure which meal it is. It feels like your mind goes blank whenever you see him, you shoot him a warm smile and get up to greet him. You walk over and balance on your toes to give him a kiss on the cheek, he has to lean forward a little to have you reach him. “How did my woman sleep?”. Based on his question, you assume maybe this could be breakfast then. “She was lonely without her man to keep her company”, you make a pouty face and cross your arms. You were playful in your tone but you were serious. It was always so miserable and scary sleeping alone. He has slept with you a couple times but recently says he’s too busy to spend all that time with you. You hold some resentment, but you’re happy he’s back. 

He puts your plate on the ground by the mattress and comes back to give you a big hug. He holds you in his arms for a while without saying anything. Your head is pressed against his hard chest and you hear his heartbeat. “I missed you so much today, I couldn't even do my work proper… You were on my mind too much” his voice is low, like he hates admitting it to himself. You smile and look up at him, giving him a quick peck. He turns the quick kiss into a long and passionate one. He’s cupping your face with both hands and making out with you like he hadn't seen you in years. You welcomed his kiss, you had missed him too. His touch was enough to make you feel like you're floating. But you keep getting flashes of Leland. He’s haunting you. The more you enjoyed Johnny's presence, the more of Leland you saw and you think a big reason is because you think Johnny is the cause for something bad having happened to him. 

At the very least… you have to know. You have to find out what Johnny did to him. Is he still in that room waiting for you to come back? Does he think youre dead or did his mouth dig his own grave? Making Johnny kill him? You had so many questions and all of them could be answered by the man kissing you. You break away from the kiss and look down. “What’s wrong, doll?”. His voice is concerned and his brows are furrowed as he tries lifting your chin to make him face you. You reject his touch and continue looking down, you know he’s getting more and more worried. “...w-what did you do to him?” Your voice is soft and quiet. Johnny is so good to you, so kind but you're scared the mention of his name will make him snap. He sighs. “what i did to who?...”. He’s not asking cause he doesn't know, he's asking cause he’s testing you. You don't care if he snaps, you have to know. “...W-what did you do to Leland?”. His name was like a trigger and he grabs your face, harder than he’s ever done before. “Don't you ever utter his name. Besides, why do you care? You have me. Am I not enough?”. He squeezes harder with that last question, he’s hurt that you would bring him up. “you… y-you’re hurting me Johnny”, your voice is soft and careful. “Answer my question”. His voice is weak, he’s hurting and demanding for you to validate the feelings he already has for you, thinking you felt the same way towards him. “you’re more than enough”. Tears are streaming down your face at this point. It was true though, he was enough but that didn't erase the feelings you had for Leland. 

His grip loosens and he steps away from you, putting his hands behind his head, then on his hips. He’s pacing back and forth not knowing what to say or do. “Why do you fucking care about him anyways? You met him the same damn night you met me. You've spent more time with me than you did with him”. You don't know what to say, you don't even know what he wants you to say. It's a question designed to trap you no matter the answer. “I don't care about him… i- i just don’t…” he interrupts you. “Well obviously you do care, otherwise you wouldn't bring it up, would you?”. His voice is angrier than it's ever been and for the first time, you're scared for your life in his presence. “I’m sorry… it won't happen again” Your voice is weak and you try hugging yourself to calm yourself down, a form of self soothing. “Damn right it won’t happen again… I mean FUCK” He kicks your food that was laid on the ground. The food goes flying and the plate nearly hits you but you manage to dodge just in time. You hug yourself harder, trying to shrink yourself. Maybe if you stayed still enough, he wouldn't see you. He walks over to you and the sight of him angrily approaching, makes you backup a little. He grabs you by your hair and gets close to your face. His grip is hard and he’s hurting you again. “You’ve lost food privileges, I'll be back in a week”. He lets go of your hair and almost throws you away like he was disgusted seeing your face. He starts walking out of the door and you run after him crying, grabbing his forearm trying to pull him back. You don't care even if he slaps you, you didn't want him to leave you, especially for a week. You don’t care about the food, you want him. “Let go” he says simply and pulls himself from your grip and locks the door behind himself. You fall to the ground crying hysterically.

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credit for dividers: @kyunlouy

[mieohmy]

sticky situations | mark lee

PAIRING: spiderman! mark lee x sidekick! afab reader

GENRE: superhero! au, f2ls, romance, action, SLOW BURN, angst, fluff, humor

WORD COUNT: 9.2k

NOTES: profanity, depictions of violence, bombings, weapons, blood/injuries, obliviousness, kissing, some sexual references and uh sexual tension but fr none of that

SUMMARY: you never thought you’d be partners in crime with the red and blue spandex wearing hero who is not only your friend mark, but also the guy you secretly have a crush on. 

author’s note: here it is!!! this main story takes place between 1-2 years after the prologue. i felt like the whole story was too long to combine into one + the time skip was kinda abrupt so i decided to split it in terms of plot/action :)) even tho the prologue is almost as long as the main story skndskjd. also! you don’t have to read the prologue to understand but imo it would help the story make more sense? anyways, thank you for reading

“thanks for letting me borrow it,” you remark simply, throwing the oversized hoodie at mark’s face. 

he manages to catch it cleanly without a second thought, eyes still focused on the screen in front of him alongside chenle, who pauses at the interaction. still playing the game, he shoots you two a weird look. “so now you guys share clothes?” 

you stick your tongue out teasingly at him. “and? i would steal yours too if you let me but when have you ever offered?” chenle lets out a grunt- whether it was in response to you or because he messed up in the game, you’re not sure.

you didn’t think that finding out mark lee was spiderman two years ago would lead you to spend majority (you actually calculated and it came out to be around 67%) of your time with just him, but you weren’t complaining. nor did you think you would grow this close, especially with your... complicated feelings, but never once did you regret it. 

it meaning confronting mark and somehow becoming his trusty sidekick that tried to make sure he didn’t die (note: tried, like really fucking hard to where you think you have 10 times more wrinkles from stress). 

you move to place the bag of food on mark’s kitchen counter before looking around. “where’s everyone else?” 

“hyuck hasn’t shown up yet, and jisung went out to get drinks,” mark answered dutifully, laying back onto the couch with his hands behind his head in satisfaction as his shirt rises slightly, showing an inch or two of his bare stomach. 

as you make your way to sit next to him, you eyes fall on the slight slip of skin. without thinking much about it, you tug his shirt down like a protective mother before landing on the couch next to him with a small oof! 

again, chenle mumbles something under his breath at your action before shaking his head. if donghyuck was here, he thinks, you two would never hear the end of it. then again, when did you? 

you observe the two play for some time, listening to their frustrated cries and groans. 

eventually, jisung shows up with a heavy grocery bag, donghyuck in tow. 

“what took you guys so long?” chenle complains, throwing the game controller on the table. you help jisung with the bulging bag as hyuck takes off his shoes. “sorry, i think there was some sort of shootout a couple of blocks away. the police weren’t showing up- god i hate the nypd sometimes.” 

immediately, you freeze and jisung yelps as a couple of drinks slip from your grasp onto the floor. you don’t even spare a glance at mark, looking up donghyuck instead while swallowing. 

“and did they show up?” 

he shrugs harmlessly. “dunno. seemed like they were taking their sweet time though,” and you squeeze your eyes shut in frustration. peeking at mark, you notice the visible furrow of his eyebrows. he catches your eyes on him and initiates a silent conversation between you two. 

his eyes flash at you and you sigh in defeat. “sorry guys, but me and mark have an accident. i think i left something important for our assignment back at the labs.” 

the boys look at you with wide eyes- well, except for mark who only gives them sheepish looks. well damn, how good did he get at lying? you once thought he wasn’t a good actor but here he was proving you wrong. you couldn’t say anything anymore as you were in on it too now. 

jisung speaks up first, “is it so important that you can’t wait until tomorrow to get it?” 

you look at mark and he shakes his head firmly. “our whole experiment will get messed up. sorry y/n, it’s really my bad,” he stares at you with a (fake?) apologetic look and you have to hold back a scoff. 

“i need to get something from my room before we go,” he gives you a signal and you nod, only hoping he can find a good way to hide his entire suit in front of the others. 

turns out, he can. he was spiderman, after all. mark grabs a whole overcoat, saying some random comment about how cold it was getting outside, and you practically dash out of his apartment. “sorry guys, don’t wait on us,” you call out before shutting the door. 

you both dash down the stairs, mark obviously faster than you, and you reach the bottom huffing and puffing. he finds an obscure place under the staircase to change. you were so used to it at this point that you found no reason to look away. he had his underwear on at least, mark was way too modest to go commando. 

“wait a second,” you stare at him in desperation. “how the hell am i going to get to your room?” 

he freezes. “fuck.” this was the worst time ever to have a hangout at mark’s apartment. now you understood why he never offered his place back then. 

your entire setup was crafted in his room, so you would normally stay there until mark returned from his adventures safely. but this time it was different, you couldn’t sneak in with your friends there who literally just witnessed you walk out. 

and plus, mark’s room was locked (for obvious reasons). 

“j-just go through my window, it’s unlocked.” 

you eyes bulge. “your room window?” your neck cranes as you take a glance at the dark window, a grand total of five floors up. you can hear the desperation in his voice as you sigh. 

“im sorry y/n, i didn’t think this through.” obviously, neither did you. “but we really need to hurry, at least i do. i can work without you, you know. solo was how i worked for an entire year.” 

you shake your head firmly. “i know that you’re capable enough, but you never know what can happen. the police might not show up like the countless times in the past where they didn’t.”

he’s about to protest but you push him forward into the light. “go, and i’ll find a way. i trust you and you trust me.”

he takes a step back reluctantly and you mouth a be careful before turning to face the obstacle ahead of you. now what? 

you grunt, climbing the rickety fireplace escape, cursing silently when you almost slip. this was way too old to be on par with current safety guidelines. but adrenaline courses through your veins (probably from fear of falling to your death) and you somehow make it up to the fifth floor without much ruckus. 

as carefully and quietly as possible to avoid arousing suspicion from the boys literally feet away from you in mark’s apartment, you unlatch his bedroom window. 

you weren’t the most graceful, but you manage to sneak in with a few soft grunts. your body was not made for this. 

his room is dark, but you realize you cannot turn on the lights or else face death if the boys were to notice. letting out a long breath in relief of finally making it and not dying, you take out your phone flashlight and get set up. 

you can hear the rambunctious laughs and chatter from outside. for the first time ever, you thank them for their noise. 

in mere seconds you’re up and connected, seeing mark’s point of view and whispering a can you hear me?

it doesn’t take you long to recognize where he is, as it was just a few streets down from where you currently were. 

“yeah,” he says confidently. “so you made it alright?” you roll your eyes before muttering a, “yes. barely.” 

but he doesn’t seem to catch the last bit. 

“did you figure out the situation?” you study the surrounding area. he nods although you can’t see it. “don’t worry, i got it all figured out.” 

you sit back, occasionally clicking a few buttons and whispering to mark. a few groans of pain and 10 minutes later, the situation is cleared up- no police in sight. 

“clean,” you comment. you can hear him chuckle and you smile. “now hurry up and come back before anyone gets suspicious.”

“you too,” he reminds and this time you actually curse out loud. taking off the earpiece and peeking out the window, down the unsteady fire escape to the hard concrete ground, you rub at your temples. 

you forget who really got you into this mess- 

yourself. 

· • —– ٠ ⧗ ٠ —– • ·

sometimes, you didn’t realize how much of your time was spent on mark. you and mark even had your own table at mick’s where late at night you would go to talk “spider strategy” as you coined it. 

you started going to feast with him occasionally, at first you used the excuse to just get to know mark better while helping others out, but soon you gave up and just wanted to spend more time with him selfishly. his aunt may that worked there greeted you comfortably, as well as the homeless people that were starting to remember your name the more and more you went. as well as the fact that they always mistook you two as a couple, no matter how many times you denied it. even miss may tried several times to get you to call her aunt as well, but you couldn’t. 

at work, it was the same. from the day you started acting as his “person behind the screen,” normally you and mark would partner up for projects. the guys gave you shit for it but you always denied anything between you and mark. mostly because you always kept that secret conversation between mark and donghyuck in your heart- a wall to shield you from any kind of pain that would come from wanting something more from mark, your friend that you had feelings for since a long time ago. 

so yes, it was fear that kept you from confessing. even if that conversation was from so long ago, you enjoyed your friendship with him now. it wasn’t like you guys were besties- that title was for donghyuck and donghyuck only, but it was special. it was different since you were the only one that knew his secret. never would you want to ruin your friendship and partnership with him, if you went for that further step. that fear made you bury your feelings deep within, for as long as you could possibly still stand. you were the same coward as you were when you first started liking him. 

but those same feelings make you realize how whipped you are for him. your coffee intake rose to at least three cups a day, to which the boys protested but man did you stay up countless days worrying for and with mark. to the point where you have to create crazy excuses to make a sprint for his place and get behind the screen or to help inconspicuously when his zipper gets stuck on his suit at work (and constantly deny the fact that you two weren’t fucking in the resources closet when you got caught.)

or the moments where mark stops by your desk to talk, sometimes not about spiderman stuff and you smile happily. everyone knows it, regardless of you trying to pretend that it’s nothing and wondering if mark was doing the same or if he was truly that oblivious. 

how when renjun from another department came to ask you for a pencil and mark suddenly appeared out of nowhere. 

you place a hand on your racing heart. “what the hell are you doing here and how the hell did you get here so fast?“ stupid question, but instead of replying as he normally does, mark narrows his eyes at renjun. 

“why are you asking y/n for a pencil?” your mouth opens to speak but you forget how good his hearing is. it really isn’t fair. perhaps you should get bit by a spider too. 

renjun eyes him suspiciously. “they were the first available person i saw?” you join in by shooting him a confused look too. what was he doing? 

it wasn’t the first time, either. strange enough, mark was always there anytime it was any boy that wasn’t chenle, hyuck, or jisung. 

and from an outsiders perspective, the same could’ve been said for you. whenever any girl asked mark for help or got too close physically, the unconscious deathly glares you gave in comparison to your normally meek and chill behavior was shocking to say the least.

either way, you were content with how life was now. through all the blood, sweat, and secret tears, you liked how it was right now. and you wouldn’t want anything to change. 

· • —– ٠ ⧗ ٠ —– • ·

you take your claimed seat at mick’s as mark easily slides into the chair across from you. he asked and you agreed to meet up after work today, no questions asked.

the owner is used to you two, sending you free food occasionally since you’ve become regulars there. the old man, mr. lee, always looks at the two of you with a fond smile, remarking about how he used to act like that with his wife. when you questioned him about his wife, a faraway look grew in his eyes. 

“she passed away, five years ago.” your mouth opened as you started to apologize. he laughed, watching you with a twinkle in his eyes. 

“don’t worry about it. just enjoy your time with him,” he gestured to mark sitting at your table innocently waiting for you. “don’t take it for granted.” 

you blushed but didn’t say anything, just nodding and thanking him. 

today you figured mark wanted to meet up and talk about the app you were working on, one to interact with civilians that had issues and needed spiderman’s help, but it seems as that wasn’t his intention as he sips on his water while glancing up at you with doe eyes. 

you stifle a laugh at his expression, a fond look on your face. 

“aunt may wants to know how you’re doing.” 

you raise an eyebrow. “this is why we came to micks? to talk about that?” 

he gives you a playful scowl. “or maybe i just wanted to hang out with you. now answer the question.”

you clear your throat. “okay, okay. i’m good. i don’t know why you have to ask me when you already know, but-“

he shakes his head in amusement. “she likes you too much. sometimes i think even more than me.” 

you laugh, and he laughs at your laugh. “of course.” you pause to yawn and he stops laughing. 

“how much sleep are you getting?” you hate the amount of concern in his voice. 

you shrug, “i didn’t drink coffee today. after you kept lecturing me about how bad it was for me to drink so much, i started cutting down. but i suppose im still getting more sleep than you.” 

he clicks his tongue in disappointment. “because it is bad for you! and for the record, i got 5 hours of sleep yesterday.” 

you clap over-enthusiastically and he giggles. “im so proud of you mark lee,” you state half-sarcastically. you freeze when he reaches over and tussles your hair softly as if you were a dog. 

“i’m proud of you too.” 

“for what?” 

he shrugs, smiling softly. “i dunno. but i am.” your eyes crinkle as you glance at him and mark finds himself stuck on the sight. “okay, weirdo.” 

the conversation continues on like that, and you almost lose track of the time. when you see the numbers 12 on your phone, you grimace. “i need to get going. i completely forget about the time.”

he actually pouts. mark lee, spiderman, whatever, pouts like a five year old.

“what? i mean, i did too but you want to leave me that early?”

you can tell he’s joking because he’s comfortable with you, but you still sigh. 

“maybe im trying to be a decent human today and get home early to sleep.” 

“okay, we can go,” mark listens without another word, getting up to clean your table. he was always thoughtful and attentive. 

when you both finish, saying goodbye to the poor worker left at their shift, you start on your way back home. when you feel his presence behind you, you stop and turn. 

“why are you following me?”

mark’s eyes are wide as he looks at you, just like a child. “to make sure you’re safe.” 

you cross your arms, also like a child although internally you warm up at his heartfelt gesture. “i can take care of myself, you know.” he pretends to think with an unsure look and you smack him playfully. 

“alright, alright, i know you can. but i’m still walking with you. it makes me feel better knowing you’re safe. and that’s with me.” 

you grumble some incoherent response. 

when you reach your apartment, you urge mark to leave.

“you want me to go that badly?”

“yeah,” you deadpan and mark fakes a sad look. you wave him off and he winks before coolly saluting goodbye. 

once he gets out of your sight, closing the door behind you with a soft click, you exhale, tiredly placing your head on the door with a thump. 

your hand comes over your chest, placed over your pumping heart, urging it to calm down. 

· • —– ٠ ⧗ ٠ —– • ·

mark isn’t used to villains. he’s dealt with a couple, some with you and some without you. they weren’t common and weren’t the usual trivial crimes that he was used to, the ones that occurred on the daily basis in new york. 

most of them didn’t last long, the longest was the rhino, and it was about a week or two before mark was able to get him locked up. 

he didn’t even know what constituted as a villain. he figured the ones that the media talked about for more than two days and the police couldn’t capture were villains. so when mark watches the news late at night as he usually did, keeping out for any crime he had to fight, he’s surprised to find a fresh criminal that new york city has discovered. 

it piques his interest- a hacker that went by a number, of all things. 

the number twenty four. 

some strange hacker revealing secret information about small companies, essentially trashing their reputation and putting them out of business. it hadn’t grown too serious yet, but the question remained. how did they get this information? and what were they going to do with it?

he wonders why, but the crimes committed by this strange #24 that the new reporter lists wasn’t enough to make mark have a second thought. 

yet. 

but the number keeps appearing up in the news, and you start to get increasingly worried. when you tell mark, his reaction is a little too nonchalant for you. 

“didn’t you hear? they just took down another company. that’s the fifth one.” 

mark nods, “yeah but we all know those five were pretty corrupted. maybe they’re doing a good thing, you know? i don’t want to jump into something that might be good for new york.”

you tilt your head at his words. sometimes mark was a little too positive, a little naive to always see the good in situations. “sure those businesses were corrupt, but the way this guy is just exposing all their crimes is like a crime itself, mark. we need to watch out. if they have all this information, who knows what else they’re able to do.”

he finally looks you in the eye. “don’t worry, y/n. i promise to intervene if things get worse, but i really think we should wait and see what happens. ” 

you trust mark, you understand where he’s coming from. after all his years of experience, you don’t question him. his promise gives you some relief, but you still have a gut feeling. 

and it wasn’t a good one. 

so it turns out you were right, once again. you’re at the labs when you hear the repetitive sounds of the police and ambulance. not again. 

you take a glance around you. there are people staring outside, whispering nervously. a bombing at a nearby small company. 

and for some reason, you think you know who did it.

when mark gets the chance to escape, he makes a run for it. he’s gotten good at slipping on the suit faster, and finding a better hiding spot so no one walks in on him like you did. he leaps off the building rooftop with ease, as he’s done countless times.

he knows he’s late, but he was so distracted with work he didn’t get the chance to check the news. you weren’t even there with him because you got caught up at work, but you told him to be careful before he left. perhaps there’s something he can still do. something for those innocent lives in that company building (if it was still there). 

when he reaches the building, his heart sinks. a solid portion was scorched, burned and black. the police there yell at him to get away but he ignores them. “are there any people left in there?” mark asks.

the officer glares at him before answering. “not that we know of. no deaths, just some injured but they’re already on their way to the hospital. we’ve got this under control, spiderman. you can leave.” 

he squints. “so you’re not sure?” 

the officer is obviously annoyed, but still answers. “the damage is too big to assess right now. we’re still searching.” 

bullshit, mark knows. so instead of listening to the police, he shoots a web to swing into the damaged part of the building. make moves swiftly, swinging when he has to and running when the ground is clear enough for him to cover all possible space. 

it doesn’t seem as if there’s anyone one as he double checks the place. who could have done this? 

mark’s about to leave, sure that no one has remained, but he freezes when he catches a glimpse of a faint light at the end of one of the rooms. cautiously, he makes his way over. and it’s just as he feared, or maybe even worse. 

one of the undamaged company computer screens, shining brightly with only the large white numbers, 

#24. 

· • —– ٠ ⧗ ٠ —– • ·

it continues like that for a week. attacks on corrupt companies and buildings. some innocent lives harmed and some not so innocent. and everytime, mark is too late. the two numbers always mocking him whenever he arrives.  

the #24 constantly shows up on the news and mark is sick of it. he doesn’t know what to do. it’s the first time there’s no physical person, no identity or anything. just some random hacker with his own tricks as they hide behind a screen. 

it’s even worse with the city in unrest. the police are obviously no help, and spiderman’s supporters are counting on him. but how can he do anything when he has nothing? 

a video is released after another week of failed attempts. a muffled, distorted voice taunting spiderman to come get him. that is, if he even could. 

you’re not much better. you try your best to get as much information to help mark, but you’re at a dead end. and the longer this goes on and the longer mark can’t do anything, you can feel the tension building from within. 

with darker eye bags each and everyday, mark becomes more quiet. you can tell his mind is constantly distracted, drifting away as he replays every failure the last few weeks. you’re trying to help him, truly. 

so what can you do when he snaps at you- telling you to stay out of it because you could be targeted next. 

“our whole building could be next, y/n. i really don’t want to see my friends get blown up.” you frown. mark is never like this.

“mark,” you call out, “this isn’t you. i understand, you really want to get this guy, but you can’t act like this.” he falters. 

“you can’t keep pushing me away,” you press, “we’re in this together- we’ve been in this together and i won’t let this dumb guy get in the way.” 

“only cause you practically forced me to let you help,” he quips quietly and you scoff. “yeah and you think it’s helpful, or else you would’ve gotten rid of me a long time ago.” 

well, he can’t fight with that.

“come on,” you take his hand in your warm ones, and he looks up at you. your forehead creases in concern at the sight of him. it’s like all the life has left him. 

“don’t worry. we’ll work together to get this guy. he won’t get octavius because we won’t let him. i know you won’t let him.” you stare into his dark orbs, hoping he sees your genuineness and assurance. your breath hitches when he suddenly hugs you. for some reason, you treasure this hug, inhaling his scent and familiarity. 

“thank you, y/n.” 

· • —– ٠ ⧗ ٠ —– • ·

somehow, in the dawn of the morning, you get some information.

it was a long time coming, since you started your research on this strange #24 the moment they popped up in the news. but you finally got something. 

after reviewing the footage from mark and taking all the data from the companies attacked, locations, and most importantly, the video released to mock spiderman, you get the model of the technology they use. 

and it’s not cheap or common. there’s no way they could’ve gotten to where they were with a mere dell computer. no, their device came from a specific seller with a specific location in new york. 

excited at finally finding something, you drag mark to the location where #24 bought his tech. and end up with a dead end. 

customer confidentiality. 

“-is fucking stupid,” you sigh. you apologize to mark but he shakes it off. “at least you found something. ha, it’s funny how you use your computer skills to find out about this guy when they’ve been doing the same this entire time.” 

you purse your lips. “we’re getting there, mark. i can feel it, we can get through to this fucker.” 

“yeah, but it’s not like i can get to them physically, you know? we have no clue who this guy really is since he hides behind that screen of his. in fact,” 

mark frowns before a realization hits him. he looks at you with an expression you can’t read, making you feel unsure. 

“he’s kinda like you.” 

· • —– ٠ ⧗ ٠ —– • ·

as much as you reassure mark, you can tell he’s still beating himself up harshly for everything. he’s on a constant rollercoaster, sometimes in good spirits and confident that he can catch the guy, and other days down and negative. 

you would’ve been the same in his position. always used to helping others, being the reliable superhero that many looked up to. and then suddenly, sometimes comes and that preconception is shattered. people are hurt, people are scared, and you think it’s all your fault. 

you’re usually the one at mark’s place, not the other way around. and you’re mostly by his side when he goes out to fight crime, at the same desk watching over him. so what do you do when mark shows up at your place, as spiderman, obviously out on his rendezvous without letting you know? 

right as you open the door and see his expression, you know it isn’t good. 

he stalks in, tense and rigid without a single word. “mark!” you watch him, surprised. “what’s going on?”

he shakes his head, breathing heavily. “i can’t get this guy. no matter what, i don’t know what to do. everything we’ve tried, he’s just going to take it all to ruin.“

you place an hand on his shoulder, prompting him to look at you. you shiver at his bloodshot eyes through the mask, utterly soulless. 

“trust me, we will. this guy can’t go on forever, you know. you can’t give up, you’re spiderman-“

“and yet im still here, struggling,” he cuts you off with ferocity that you’ve never seen. taken aback, you place two hands on his masked face. suddenly, the atmosphere feels different, a little more tension. 

“don’t you trust me?” you ask. he nods, not moving to remove your hands off his cheeks and almost leaning into your touch. 

an uncontrollable force acts over you, and you slowly peel off his mask, revealing his intense dark orbs that seem so vulnerable in front of you. you’re the only one who gets to see him like this. spiderman as a normal human being. as mark lee. you’ve always been the only one. 

slowly, he leans in and your breath hitches. you feel his warm breath hit your face, counting the seconds as you feel him get closer. contrary to your expectations, his lips don’t meet yours softly. instead, as your eyes close instinctively, his mouth eagerly meets yours. somehow, your hands find their way into his hair and his around your waist. it lasts too short- no, too long. you feel selfish, even when he was the one who initiated the kiss. 

you break it, catching your breath as mark watches you intently. it takes you a second to catch your bearings as your fingertips raise to your lips, touching the soft flesh delicately. “we-we shouldn’t have done that,” you whisper hoarsely. 

hurt flashes across his face. what? 

he gets interrupted by the sound of police sirens. you look away, ”please... go.”

you’re not sure if you’re happy or disappointed that he listens to you. 

· • —– ٠ ⧗ ٠ —– • ·

you can’t fall asleep. the kiss from a few hours ago replays in your head constantly. what were you thinking? and more importantly, what was he thinking? 

to take your mind off him, you decide to focus on more important matters, like finding #24 and stopping them. somehow, running on two hours of sleep the day before, you’re able to hack into the shop’s buyers list. 

it takes the overheating of your computer and two cups of coffee, but you finally trace the credit card that the purchase was tracked to. from then on, it was easy to find the location and name. 

but not wanting to act too hastily, you continue your dig deeper. it’s a little too easy to find #24’s place of residence. 

your first instinct is to call mark, but obviously that plan is now to shreds. you hesitate before hitting his contact, finding your newly discovered information to be too precious to wait. 

you have another gut feeling that #24 is going to strike soon. after more than four days of radio silence from the hacker, you have a feeling they’re planning something big- and it isn’t going to be good. studying their past actions, they keep targeting bigger and bigger corporations now that traction has been gained. and you’re scared to where #24 going to choose next. 

mark’s phone is off, or he blocked you- which you kinda (read: definitely) understand after you simply told him to leave after he kissed you. 

you reflect on him from your interactions the past few days- the dullness in his eyes. even the boys commented on his attitude change, which he credited to overworking. just like you, you bitterly chuckle. 

maybe… you glance down at the address. if he was busy (or ignoring you), you could go by yourself. just check it out, harmlessly, right? 

just in case, you bring pepper spray with you. you weren’t sure what was going to be happen, so at least be somewhat safe than sorry. you’re sure you’re being an idiot right now, and you should find mark, but something tells you that you need to hurry and if that meant to go alone, you would. 

it’s a little too easy for you to bust open the apartment door of #24’s supposed place of living, or you’re getting good at the superhero stuff, which you doubt is the case. 

it’s empty, at least in terms of people. the place is dusty and dirty, not much to your surprise. you do your best not to leave any tracks behind, but as you continue through the place, the more awestruck you are. 

countless papers and research are littered all over the place, like a detective in a movie. binders and books of data and information are scattered across the place. you assume it’s all the information on those corrupt businesses that #24 gathered with their crazy genius hacking skills. 

you want to be quick, so you take a billion pictures before leaving, heart racing and hands clammy. 

when you get to the safety of your place, you finally relax and allow yourself to study the photos. the first thing was a map, countless red circles over locations caught your eye. 

as you examine it, you notice the specific locations that care circled. it’s all the places where #24 attacked. all the companies that were terrorized, destroyed without a second thought. 

you always wondered what was his motive. and as you look through the pictures you took- you realize this person has a seriously messed up conception of justice in the world. 

how does attacking innocent people and destroying years of work make up for the heinous secret crimes of those companies? 

but you frown, zooming in on the map again. you looked and there was another big circle with a date, today at 7am. you check the time, currently 4am. it was the 24th circle, you counted. 

and it was circled around the octavius building. 

· • —– ٠ ⧗ ٠ —– • ·

you spam call mark, but he doesn’t pick up. you send voicemails in hopes that he’ll desperately pick up. as you keep looking through the photos, more and more horror fills you. all of #24’s plans, you attempt to tell him. but you don’t let him know the things beginning to formulate in your brain. 

#24’s previous and current plans all perfectly laid out. you honestly hate the fact that you were able to hack into his stuff, and how no one else has yet. 

you know everything- all the pieces fit together. his plan? bomb octavius industries, as if the giant red circle around the building wasn’t blatant enough. 

but not just that. 

feast too. #24 wants to threaten bombing the homeless shelter filled with unsuspecting people in order to make spiderman reveal his identity. quite literally killing two birds with one stone. 

and if this plan goes through, everything will come crashing down.

you looked everywhere, but you can’t find mark. the one time you need him, you fucked up and have no idea where he went. 

you give up on him. but not yourself. 

you won’t let feast and innocent people die, nor make mark choose between himself and the city, because you know what he would do, the selfless motherfucker. 

· • —– ٠ ⧗ ٠ —– • ·

it’s strange seeing the place you’ve worked at for years empty, as you’ve never had a reason to come so early in the morning. your hands shake when you scan your keycard to enter the building. 

if everything goes according to your plan, no one will get hurt and no one will have to know anything. are you stupid for doing this alone? yes. are you stupid for wanting to be selfless when you know it’s full on selfish? yes. 

are you stupid? yes. 

and yet, you keep going on. 

you know mark would never let you go, but you’re the only one who knows is to stop this. all the knowledge you’ve gained over the years, choosing to become mark’s sidekick and help him behind the computers, you choose to believe it’s led you to this moment. 

you check the time and curse. almost 6am already, you need to hurry. all your time figuring how to work this solution out took longer than you expected. 

you don’t know how, but you make it. you press the highest floor button on the elevator and wait to get to where #24 plans to broadcast it all. all in order to see spiderman’s demise. 

and you won’t let it happen. 

if mark was here- no, you shut the thought down. no thinking about mark. just get in and out, before #24 shows up. 

you race down the hallway, knowing exactly which computer and room. easy, you’ll take down the broadcast and hack the bomb software so it malfunctions. you just have to be fast, before #24 gets here. you swiftly open the door- 

only for fear to strike through you. 

he said 7- so why is he here now-?!

the masked figure seems surprised at your presence. you stand there, unmoving as you take in the situation. 

“well, this is a surprise.”

the unfamiliar voice makes shivers go down your spine. “how did you find out my plans?”

you don’t respond, hands squeezing into fists. as #24 -you assume- gets up, you back away. but he’s faster and you cry out. 

“don’t worry,” his tone is too calm for your liking. you can feel your body shaking in his grasp, “i won’t hurt you. for now.” 

you find yourself tied up to a chair and curse the world for being so stupid. the figure tilts their head, studying you. “i’m impressed that you got this far. how exactly did you do it?”

it was easier than expected, you think but refuse to answer, to do anything. you need to make up another plan. he knows interrogating you won’t work, so he starts talking about spiderman. you tense. 

“it’s surprising how a random civilian like you got here, but spiderman himself couldn’t. why do you think that is?” 

you avoid eye contact, trying to keep your emotions in check. you know all the pain mark has been through because of this person, all the pain many people have gone through. 

“don’t tell me you were trying to stop my plans to be a hero like him. i always wondered what was so charming about spiderman,” you hate the venomous tone in his voice when he says it. “how the city people fall for an idiot like hi-“

“he’s not an idiot,” you cut him off, tone deadly. but you see the sudden change in his posture, and you know you fucked up. 

“oh, so you know him?”

“w-who doesn’t?” you shift uncomfortably, but it’s too late. he can see through it. 

you curse internally as he unsheathes a clean, sharp knife. 

· • —– ٠ ⧗ ٠ —– • ·

mark stays up after leaving your place and dealing with the minor crime with the police that so rudely interrupted you two. he goes to his secret rooftop, some abandoned one he never told anyone about, even you. 

it’s just a place for him to be alone with his thoughts, and honestly he stopped going as much when you became his sidekick because he didn’t need a place of refuge when you were his place of refuge. 

but not today. 

he punches the poor punching bag, and it looks like it’s about to break from all of mark’s frustration and confusion. he doesn’t notice the sun rising or the 13 missed calls from his phone. he’s too lost in his thoughts to realize. 

it’s not until he hears the sound of kids clamoring on their way to school when he finally snaps out of it. he checks the time, damn. 7am was too early- he completely forgot the pain of waking up early and going to school at the crack of dawn. it fucking sucked, but he supposes it was so much better to be an innocent kid that focused dutifully on their lives instead of being a working adult that had everything and anything to worry about. especially one that was a superhero who had no time to think about himself in order to save the city. 

the exhaustion hits him as he feels the sweat slide down his face. grimacing, mark checks his phone. when he sees the missed calls from you, he almost throws his phone out and into the city. but seeing the amount of times you called, an uneasy feeling sinks into his bones. he plays your latest voicemail. the more he listens, the colder his blood runs.

but he’s too late. and by the time he gets there, the broadcast has officially started. 

but unlike your voicemails, what he sees on screen is not #24, but instead a person tied up and blindfolded in a dark space, which he supposes is at the octavius building. and the timer- for the bombs. 

but the silhouette looks a little too familiar, like-

you. it has to be you. who else knew about the plans except for the person that told mark? 

mark swears he sees red. 

he can’t think clearly, not when he has no idea how you got there without him, without letting him know anything-

fuck, mark curses. the video plays all over the city, and he knows the police are working hard but it’s not enough. 

marks throws on his suit and basically flies over to the building. he doesn’t care about being sneaky like he usually was- he simply alerts the police to evacuate feast to safety as he takes care of octavius industries. he has to when you’re there and there’s bombs involved. 

he has no idea where exactly you are, so he swings through each and every floor until he reaches the 10th. when mark scans the floor, and one of the room doors is closed, his senses tingle. 

it has to be. 

perhaps he was acting a little too hastily for his own good, busting down the door as he hears the timer echo in his head. less than 10 minutes until 7 am. he rushes in, but stops at the sight of you.

mouth gagged, you let out a tiny, helpless sound when you see spiderman, and #24 only laughs at the sight of the hero. 

“you finally joined the party.” 

mark assesses the situation. you tied up. #24 with a knife. the computer where it all stems from. 

“if you do anything,” #24 warns as he moves closer to you and you grunt, “they get it.” 

easy. mark grabs the knife with his web, slinging it out of the window with a loud crash in order to ensure that it’s effective out of reach. he can worry about the damage repairs later. 

but distracted while making sure the weapon was gone, #24 hastily grabs a monitor and slings it at mark. you let out a strangled sound and mark is ably to dodge it. so that’s how you wanna play, he huffs. 

he knows he can kick #24’s ass, but he doesn’t want to be too hasty when you’re there. damn it y/n, you should’ve stayed home. 

his eyes flick between the computer that’s still counting down and you staring bullets into #24. even mark still has the time to shiver at your deadly glare. 

but when he hears the familiar click of a gun, he freezes. #24 stands there, shaking as he holds it to your head. “if you come any closer, i’ll do it.” 

mark tries to keep cool. he holds his hands out but he’s essentially unable to move. 

you look into mark’s eyes, a little too calm for your own good. you can’t speak telepathically, but your eyes explain for you. 

“why are you doing this?” spiderman asks calmly, waiting. 

#24 chuckles. “so now you want my backstory, huh?“ he presses the gun closer to your head and you flinch this time. 

“well since we’ve got time,” he looks at the bright red numbers counting down to 0, “i suppose i can let you know. my father worked for one of these… wretched companies. one that didn’t care about the workers and were greedy for money. they ruined his life, my life. my family went bankrupt and my father died trying to repair it all as my mother left us. so i vowed to get revenge, and it wasn’t hard. just a couple of clicks to get in and now i have all their information. all the illegal stuff to ruin each and every one of those businesses. i would be the one to stop it all, to destroy the endless cycle of suffering and pain.” 

and then he looks mark straight in the eye, “i just didn’t expect a certain bug to get in the way.” 

right then and there, as #24 is distracted talking, you, who had been moving slightly underneath #24, give the slightest of nods to mark, who watches you with confusion. 

in that split second, you burst through the ropes that tied you back, and kick the guy in the balls. quite hard. 

while tied up for some time waiting for mark, there were a couple of options your brain sorted through. you at first wanted to use the pepper spray that you forgot about in your pocket but saw the mask #24 had on. plan failed. 

then you set to undoing the ropes that #24 had spontaneously found in the building, not knowing anyone was going to show up and try to foil his plans. the knot was extremely tight but you had time while waiting for mark, so you set to working on it inconspicuously to not alert the guy. 

all it took was distraction by mark to finally get out of it and hit #24 where it hurt the most. literally. 

as the guy crumples to the ground in pain (you’re sure of it), mark takes the opportunity to web him up against the while. double just to make sure. and with an extra punch to the face for all the past few weeks, mark couldn’t help it. 

you rush to the computer, hands shaking as you try to hack the stupid thing. mark runs to your side as he checks the timer-

 0:59. 

“come on y/n, i know you can do it.”

you shake your head, typing so fast as tears brim your eyes. it’s not the most difficult thing you’ve ever done, but it’s unfamiliar territory, #24’s own software. 

your fingers fly across the keyboard, furious typing sounds fill the building. your body is shaking, adrenaline filling you as you try countless things to get into the database. mark can do nothing except watch you work, completely foreign to the world of hacking, to what you do. 

 “i-i don’t think i can get it in time, mark. the-the building, it’s going to explode.” 

you keep pressing the enter button in desperation, but it doesn’t work. you cry out as your head whips to catch the time. 0:06.

growling in frustration, mark looks around the room. almost about to fly out to attempt to get the bombs himself, he looks at the timer that flashes with 3 seconds left, and mark instead decides otherwise.  

“brace yourself,” he shouts as you look up at him with wide eyes. he webshoots you to him, moving as far away as he can and shielding you from the impact as he squeezes his eyes shut.

you also close your eyes, trying your best to focus on the warmth of mark’s embrace around you as the timer goes out. 

contrary to your expectations, all you hear is a pop! and your eyes slowly open. getting out of mark’s embrace, you look at the sight in front of you. only the computer is blown up- a decoy. 

mark stands rigid next to you and you look at him, bewildered. “did he…”

“fake it?” mark finishes, glancing at you with a grim expression. he nods briefly. “it must’ve been a decoy, judging how we didn’t hear anything else.” 

that’s when he can hear the sounds of people oncoming, and he assumes it’s the police. 

you let out a sigh, feeling woozy from what just took place. mark immediately brings you to him, keeping you safe in his arms. and you’re constantly trembling in his arms as he continues to whisper, “you’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay now…” over and over. 

mark hugs you and you squeeze so tight as if you were never going to let go. 

eventually mark lets go to scold you. even without seeing his face fully behind the mask, you know how upset he is. 

“how could you have gone without letting me now? how could you have been so reckless? what would have happened if i didn’t make it in time?” you shrink further into yourself the more and more angry he gets. 

“i could have lost you, y/n! you mean too much to me, what would i have done if you died?” 

you avoid eye contact as you ask softly, “but how much?”

he stops. “what?”  

you finally look at mark with a strange intensity in your eyes. “so what?” you say and it catches him off guard. 

“w-what do you mean?” 

you shudder. “i have feelings for you, mark. are you that dense or just plain stupid? i don’t know how long i can go on with this- where you take and give but never tell me the truth.” 

he stares at you, dumbfounded. 

that’s when the police burst in. they interrupt the rest of your conversation,  taking you away for examining and questioning. you give him a defeated glance before turning away.  

mark can only watch you stalk off with the police and his gloved hands clench into fists. 

the rest of the commotion fades away. he’s occupied by thoughts of you, and he stares at the floor. 

“i’ve loved you since the first day we met,” he murmurs aloud to no one in particular. 

· • —– ٠ ⧗ ٠ —– • ·

one month later…

mark’s back in action, joking around with thugs before kicking their asses. he’s feeling a lot better after #24 was arrested and sent to jail, but he still feels empty. empty because after every fight, he returns home alone. and lonely. he no longer has his partner-in-crime. no more of your pleasant voice that would return his jokes as he quite literally punched a guy in the face or welcome him back after a long day of fighting crime.

it was for the better, he decided quickly on. after the latest stunt, your safety was more important than helping his superhero antics. and if that meant deciding to cut off all contact with you, so be it. (even if he was disappointed by the lack of effort you put up against it, not even a single call or motion of protest on your side..)

everyone at work notices it. the fact that you avoid him and the fact that mark is not the same bubbly guy he used to be when he was around you. the boys decide not to ask when they realize it’s a touchy subject and you gratefully hang out with them more to distract yourself with all the sudden free time you obtained, excluding mark. 

no more late night visits to mick’s, and the owner fears the worst has happened to you two when mark shows up occasionally, alone and miserable looking. even at feast (still perfectly intact and thriving), some of the guys have commented on his unnatural behavior. 

“hey, lee.” mr. stan calls out, inviting him over to his makeshift bed. mark trudges over, sitting down. he attempts to shoot him a grin, but it comes out half-heartedly. “what’s up?”

“you okay? you haven’t seemed like yourself lately. aunt may is worried, you know.”

mark looks down at his hands. “nah, it’s nothing…” mr. stan pats him on the back. 

“chin up, maybe you should talk to that girlfriend of yours. she’s too good for this world. man, last week when she came and threw a surprise party for gloria’s 70th party-“

mark’s head shoots up. “what? y/n came to feast?” mr. stan frowns. “you don’t even know? your girlfriend comes every thursday. that’s even more than you now, mark.” 

he says with a teasing lilt. his expression softens. 

“she cares so much for you, i think you should talk to her about it if it’s been bothering you that much.”

the action of his mouth automatically forming the words, she’s not my girlfriend… abruptly stops. 

mark shows up at your door that night with your favorite succulents because he remembers all the times you complained about flowers dying too soon. you open the door with messy hair and dark eye bags- your trademark- but he thinks you look so beautiful. 

your eyes widen. “mark?”

mark stands there, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. you notice what’s in his hands, and your expression hardens. “if you’re here to apologize, now’s not a good time.” you move to shut the door, but mark easily stops you.

“please let me in.” his pleading eyes make you relent, but not without a frustrated huff. he didn’t realize how much he missed seeing your place, your things, the smell of you. the existence of you. 

“what do you want?” you demand, and mark blanks. he didn’t really think this through, only knowing that he had to see you and see you now. 

“i….” he starts, biting his lip, and you raise an eyebrow. 

“i had no clue you felt that way about me,” he finally gets out. “and i assure you i wouldn’t have acted the way i did if i knew. y-you didn’t deserve that, and i’m so sorry.”

you grit your teeth. all your pent up feelings that you worked so hard to keep away escape. 

“i have liked you for two years. i’ve been by your side this whole time, and not once have i ever gotten the notion that you returned any feelings. to me, there wasn’t anything at all on your side so i kept it to myself. i was fine with that. but when you say that i mean so much to you and-” you gesture to the plant in his hands, “do things like that, it’s so, so hard to pretend there’s nothing-“ your voice breaks and you rub your temple in frustration. 

mark calls out your name.

your head starts to pound, mustering up the energy to fight with mark, freaking mark lee of all people was so much more draining than you thought. you hate the silence. you hate how this is what has become of you two.

“i- i was scared. i was scared to put you in danger and i was scared of losing you, until i almost did. but, i do know that i’ve loved you for two years. and i… i still do. ever since i took on spiderman, my whole life has changed, my whole world. maybe back then i didn’t want any more with you but that doesn’t mean my feelings have changed.” he says softly.  

your head snaps up, looking at him with raised eyebrows. “mark?”

“i love you.” that tender gaze never failed to make your heart skip. he takes a hesitant step, and then another until he’s so close you can hear and feel his breath. 

your body malfunctions- your eyes start to flutter shut as his face grows closer to yours, his familiar warmth encasing you. as your lips part and your breaths mix, you can feel the faintest graze of his nose bridge against your cheek. 

mark whispers, “look at me.”

you obey his command, slowly peeking your eyes open. you can’t seem to focus on his eyes, not even attempting to hide your gaze trailing down to his lips. you bet- no, know he’s doing the same. and when his arms encircle your waist, and your hands move with ease to wrap around his neck, it feels too good, too natural to be true.

you know can’t let this go. and mark knows for sure now, neither can he. 

happy fourth of july to anyone who celebrates it and if not then i still hope you have a great day :) 

[worra-arts]

OKAY, hear me out before reading the text below: this blog of mine is just a place, where I can see my progress in many of things, and writing in english is one of them. the deal is - english is not my native language, and my way of writing can look very bad.

if you decide to read my little sketch, firstly - good luck; and secondly, if when you see some dumb mistakes - feel free to comment because learning stuff is fun!

(also I'm like probably need to do a disclaimer or something like this, but I don't know how :D)

well, it's just fluff (?), without any triggers and just something that was in my head for a while. also I'm using the real names on the dream team in this text. actually, all my thoughts slowly became a whole au (this is the right word for it, right?), so if I will be really confident, maybe I write something else....

UGH this is again a super long text, I'M SORRY.

imagine that you've been friends with «dream team» for an almost a three years.

originally you were an employee on a mr. beast team, something that others would call an errand boy (well, errand girl in your case). but despite your small position in a whole team, everyone was simply in love with you. you just were a little shining star, that everybody adored. and beside that, you knew how to do your job. and by one of these hard-working days, you've meet sapnap.

there were a small pause between shooting for a new challenge video, where nick was one of the judges, and it happend that you both had a chance to chat for a little bit. you two find in each other someone nice, almost like a soulmate. when you too start to speak about different topics, including hobbies and favorite things, something just clicked. after a shooting, y'all just spontaneously decided to go for a walk. you both just can't stop talking, and after a hour or so, you find yourself on a basketball court. the day slowly becoming an evening, there only a few people around, and you two with beer cans just lazily playing basketball.

and after that day your life just start change entirely.

after sapnap you've met sunshine with name karl, and then dream, george, even quackity. the boys was also amazed with your warm personality and you all pretty fast become great buddies. you start to show in theirs instagram photos, twitter posts, stories. you've slowly become an important member of their group. staying for a movie night, cook for them, give a ride on your car, making birthday presents, spending time in video games, and eventually joining the streams.

to be honest, chat was kinda aggressive by the first time and full of comments like "omg why are they even let this girl to join, she's just ruining all the fun" and bunch of other not-so-nice words. guys were super sorry that you have to deal with all this hate, but you honestly won't making a big deal out of that. you just continue to show up from time to time, and slowly but surely people realize that your "boring" side was actually a "super caring" side.

and only after this realization everybody understand how cool actually your character resonates with sometimes childish characters of the rest of the group. the memes start to full the internet, boys start jokingly addresses to you like "sweet mother of ours", and you were very audible and visible cringing at the name, but they're just unstoppable.

and after a two and a half years of your friendship, after george finally gets a visa and clay does a face reveal, four of you guys finally moved together.

and that simply become a golden era of your friendship.

you spend mornings with george, when you get ready for work and this man with no sleep schedule gives you company. at the moment that you start making a breakfast, this man just magically appears with his cute puppy eyes, and after the few times when your plate was getting empty for about a fifteen seconds, you just start to cook for you two. imagine: dark room with only one working lamp, you both eating some puffy pancakes, drinking something warm, chatting and silently giggling. it's a little foggy outside, and almost absolute silence. sounds really comforting, does it not? after you finished eating, you give george a small kiss on his head, maybe mess up with his hair and beg him to get some rest.

the days fly by really fast, when you making stuff with dream. join the stream for a moment? sure. what about the new idea for the video/song? tell me everything. maybe you want to go to the shopping together? get in my car, clay. you freely can go to his room when silence in your head gets too loud. often you just knock on his room door shyly, and ask if you can sit on the bed while dealing with work. and he never refuse. also you absolutely love to draw him in the moments when he really focused on something, maybe make him a few more knitted hats or something cute, but stupid. and he absolutely melts at every single touch. you just need to tell him that everything is okay, and he always can find a support in his friends. and he's so thankful for this.

and finally, you want the evenings to never end because you spend them with sapnap. he don't want to show it, but you just see it anyways - he cares about you. of course, that doesn't mean that other guys don't care, but sapnap do it in his own way and you really appreciate it. almost every evening he casually walks into your room, and if he sees how tired you look because of the work, all his appearance softens immediately. with his silent, raspy voice he asks how do you feel. and if your answer not satisfying enough, nick just casually says that he's going to wait you in the car. and that means - this evening going to be awesome. you both have no clue what are you going to do tonight, but that's just more fun, right? basketball court, just like in the old times? eating junk food in the car, while chatting and shouting the songs? skateboarding park, when nick trying to impress you, but just stupidly falls and now you need to bandage all his wounds, while you just can't stop from laughing? (he's trying to act offended, but inside he's all fluff, believe me).

but sometimes you decide to hang out in the house. sapnap picks up some random film, brings more pillows and blankets, you cook (or order) snaks, and you both just simply chilling together after a long day. and I don't need to tell that almost every time the rest of the group decide to join. maybe it's even spontaneously become a movie night? who knows. you can't even blink, and it's 3am already, the third movie silently playing on the back, all the boys sleeping and barely audibly snore. and only you stubbornly want to wait until the credits. and the movie finally ends, you trying to clean up a little, while you judge the main character in your mind. when you come back to the sleeping kingdom, you can't help but smile at the view of three big men just calmly sleeping, and unconsciously trying to hug something. you definitely take a few photos, and when you want to go to your room, suddenly dream wakes up and mid-sleep reach up to you, whispering that he want to cuddle. your heart was not ready for this, and you just can't say "no" to him.

and when you slowly falling into sleep, while warm big hands carefully hugs you, you just think to yourself - oh, how extremely lucky you are.

well, maybe you can skip the next day at work.

...you can't miss how nick and george all morning going to scream that they're absolutely-for a hundred percent-for sure-definitely didn't hug each other all night.

[ikaishere]

If you're doing prompts at the moment, may I request some Warriors and Wind fluff? Maybe Warriors comforting Wind after a nightmare?

I'm obsessed with their brotherly dynamic and honestly love them so much.

anon you made me so obsessed with it you are not only getting art, but a short drabble to go with it too!! i want to very dearly thank @arecaceae175 once again for proofreading it for me, giving me feedback, and helping with some language difficulties!! ****

*** The last thing Wind remembered was falling asleep on the grass, the air annoyingly humid, in a way that makes your skin feel uncomfortable and causes your hair to tangle. He laid down in between Sky and Time, with the eldest on his right, and the Skyloftian on his left. Surprisingly nothing interrupted him while giving in to his tiredness and allowing rest - not the chirping of birds, not the unusually hot temperature at such late hours, not the sound of Warriors cracking his knuckles as he sat on watch. He liked those nights. Despite the conditions not being perfect, he could fall asleep, safe and sound, surrounded by people he could, and would, trust with his life. The next thing Wind noticed, was his trembling body, and the lack of air in his lungs. It felt too heavy to breathe it in, and he found himself gasping for it. His hands were shaking, and his chest felt tight. He hated those nights, he decided now. He would much rather feel the unease since the beginning, not let himself fall for the false sense of security, of maybe having finally run away from the nightmares hunting him each night. Those nights made him feel weaker than ever. They made him want to scream at the top of his lungs, run until his legs couldn’t go longer anymore. Made him want to fall asleep and wake up as if nothing ever happened, spending his day trying to get rid of the fear and anxiety, keeping up his best act. They made him want to hide just how vulnerable he could be at times, because they all already saw him as such. Someone young, inexperienced, incapable. “Sailor.” A soft voice broke him out of his thoughts, and his head whipped to the side. He felt a hand rubbing his back, and he tensed up at the sensation. “Bad dream, huh?” Wind only nodded, turning his face away once again. Tears were running down his face, unnoticed, probably ever since he woke up. He woke up, with their Captain on the night watch, in tears and shambles. What a truly, perfect, night. “Want to talk about it?” Warriors still tried, but he got a quick response - frantic shaking of Wind’s head as if the vision of having to talk about something he did not even remember scared him more than Ganon himself. “Alright. It’s… It’s alright.” he whispered, trying to do the best job he could at comforting. The silence was only ever interrupted by Wind’s sobbing or Warriors’ silent hummus. In their slow and quiet moment, they managed to shift their position - the sailor sitting in their Captain's lap, being firmly held by him. “Let it out, Wind. Go on, kid, you’re brave. You are with us, safe here. Always. Promise.” they continued. “I love you, sailor” he mumbled finally, voice only barely audible. Such important, fragile words. Wind heard them from his sister a lot, even from Tetra once! He heard it from his grandma, he heard Time and Malon share those three words. He heard Sky talk about his love for Sun, and Ravio talk about his love for Legend (silent, through the doors of his, or well, their, bedroom. Wind eavesdropped that once on accident. but that was a story for another day.). Yet he never expected to hear it from Warriors. It felt warm, it felt like home. It felt as if Captain’s hands around his body were rays of the sun itself hugging it, welcoming him in its arms. It felt like early mornings and birds’ songs. Like the light of the stars on a night sky and like a lullaby you heard as a child. It felt familiar, yet so strange. Felt like family in a way that was hard to understand. “I love you too.” And most importantly, it felt like belonging.