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cdragons · 5 months

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Warmth & Stories - Aemond Targaryen x Wildling!Reader

Next Part

Summary: Love can bloom in the most unusual ways. The love between a stoic prince from the South and a wildling storyteller will be written in history as one of the strangest but truest of loves.

Author's Notes: To my very lovely and wonderful friend and beta reader Bel, aka @valeskafics, I hope you had a wonderful Christmas and New Year's! This is the first part of this fic gift I wanted to give you, and I promise the next part will have smut! I hope you like this fic and can feel my love and appreciation for you. Bel, you are one of my favorite writers of all time and a huge reason I began posting fanfics and writing in the first place. I am so grateful that you opened a whole new world for me, and I hope this year gives you lots of happiness.

Warning(s): Slight cursing, Reader's parents were killed, Daemon's an ass, Viserys is a negligent father, Westeros is Westeros, dysfunctional family shenanigans

Prince Aemond Targaryen was known to be many things. Proud. Serious. Studious. All things one should be proud of in a young man’s position. Every single one of his teachers and wet nurses sung praises of the young prince since he began to toddle. And although it might seem cruel to admit it, the second prince was the apple of the Queen’s eye and the clear favorite of her four children.

Her sweet Aemond was a mild, studious young boy who practiced his faith in the Seven despite his blood lineage belonging to the Old Gods of Valryia. Besides Aegon, he had always been respectful to his siblings–especially to his elder sister, Helaena. Aemond would often humor his sister’s strange ramblings and gift her with little creatures he found as he wandered the ancient walls of the Red Keep. Helanea, despite all her reclusiveness, only seemed comfortable enough to be touched with her younger brother and often offered comfort whenever he complained about how unfair it was that he still had no dragon. His sister was as fond of her younger brother as he was of her and would usually humor his requests.

Except now.

“Please?” Aemond had been pleading for over an hour, reaching a point where most would pity him.

“No,” replied his sister sternly, “I’ve already told you my answer won’t change.”

“But why?” he pathetically asked as his voice cracked. It was good that Aegon was still in his room, too drunk to start the day. Aemond would never have lived it down without allowing his brother to see him like this. “I won’t ask for anything else from you, I swear it.”

“No, absolutely not.”

“But why?” demanded Aemond. “I would never harm (Y/N). Name one person in the Seven Kingdoms who would treat her better than I?”

Too upset by his sister’s refusal, the prince stormed out of the room in a near-blind rage.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N) was no noblewoman or someone with any particularly wealthy connections or background. You weren’t even someone born within the Walls in the North.

No, you were from a tribe of wildings that hailed outside the Wall and were brought within the borders after your parents were caught stealing. The Starks decided to spare when they realized their daughter was just a tiny child with an incredible talent for storytelling. Within a year, the tales that Y/N wove with her tongue had reached the ears of Aemond’s father, King Viserys of House Targaryen. The King was fascinated by the young girl beyond the Wall, who spun tales of giants and spirits from the Land of Always Winter. He spared no expense in bringing you to King’s Landing.

Aemond could remember the day so clearly, as you arrived very shortly after his bastard nephew took his eye in Driftmark, and his father did nothing but protect his whore of a half-sister. When brought into the keep, you could hardly present yourself to a room full of nobles, let alone the King. You stood before his father and family barefoot and filthy. Your clothes looked closer to rags and torn cloth, and your (h/c) mane was wild with a few braids and feathers. But that hardly mattered. As soon as you opened your mouth, it was as if everyone in the Great Hall had been transported to another world.

The story you told started with a young princess given a toy soldier named the “Nussknacker.” The young princess loved her little toy soldier so much that her sweet Nussknacker came to life one night. He told the princess a prince to a winter wonderland full of fairies, sugar plums, and magic. His home had been overtaken by a maniacal Rattenkönig, and he turned the prince into his current form. The soldier and princess had to face many trials, but they were successful in defeating the evil Rattenkönig and saving the prince’s kingdom. The Nussknacker turned back into the handsome prince he had always been, and he and the princess married to lead his kingdom into prosperity.

By the time you finished telling your story, the Royal court went ablaze with applause. Your pretty words and skillful tongue enraptured every noble. They longed to hear more of your stories and were starved for entertainment. His father was in an especially jolly mood after hearing your tale. He immediately appointed you as the troubadour of the Royal Court held in protection under the Royal Targaryen House. A proclamation that horrified both the king’s Hand and the Queen, to say the least. It was no secret that Aemond’s mother and grandfather did not look favorably on you. More than once, he heard his mother seethe in anger at the attention her husband gave to you as you sat beside him during his father’s pain flares. In her eyes, you were a savage hellion who likely spread her legs up from the Wall in the North to the Great Hall of the Red Keep in the South.

But in Aemond’s eyes, you were an angel. It was not only his father’s pain you soothed with your stories, but also his own. He tried his best to keep his distance from you, but it wasn’t long until you gained his sister’s favor. From then on, whenever he spotted Helaena, you were by her side. The tall and icy walls he tried to maintain around you came crashing down before he knew it. His mother so loved him because he always did as she instructed, including to remain far away from the new child from beyond the North.

But one night, the scar on his eye had been so painful that he gained a fever that lasted for nearly a week. The maesters weren’t sure if he would survive the sickness, as it was a result of his lost eye being inflamed. His mother had resigned herself to crying by his bedside while his sister would sit with him and talk about her day. But one night, when he was delirious with pain, you somehow managed to sneak in from one of the secret tunnels within the keep’s walls. He couldn’t see you, but he recognized your voice. He wanted to scream for you to leave his room, threatening that he would call over the guards standing outside. But then you spoke, and it seemed as if his world of pain had just washed away. You spoke to him about the history of Old Valyria and the beautiful tales of dragons and knights that were lost in time. This continued on every night during his ailment.

“Do you miss your parents?” Aemond asked you one night. But he immediately regretted his question when he saw how your shoulders tensed.

“Sometimes,” you replied after a few moments of silence, “I understand that they are in a better place, wherever they are. But sometimes I wish they were here so I wouldn’t be alone.”

“But you have Helaena to be with you. Even my father adores your company.”

You only scoffed in response.

“Helaena is wonderful,” you bitterly continued, “I am glad to have a friend as sweet and kind as her in this poisonous hellhole you call home. But your father-” you paused a moment to lick your lips to figure out how to phrase your thoughts – “all he sees me as is a toy. A commodity. A funny little object that he bought to entertain him. He never mistreated me but does not respect me as a person, let alone as a subject.”

The tears in your eyes welled to the point where they almost spilled, and you immediately stopped talking to prevent further incriminating yourself.

“You have no idea what it’s like-” you let out a bitter laugh before continuing to cry – “to have your family taken away from you. To watch your parents be executed before your eyes when you were only a small child. And for what? Stealing a loaf of stale bread? What should that matter to the Starks? They have their pretty castle with warm fires and fur blankets. My mother and father worked for everything they had in order to care for me. Now here I am, away from the silver winter I called home and stuck in the shit-odor that covers precious South.”

“However much you hate your family, at least you still have them. I have no one. No one to share my culture and past with, no one to understand your customs and way of life. Call my parents whatever you want. Savages. Thieves. Scum. But they loved me. However little it was, they taught me to be proud of myself. They were my whole life, and now they’re gone.”

You ran out of his chambers and back into the wall. Aemond didn’t see you for several days, even after his fever broke and the maesters told his mother he would live. Two weeks passed, and Aemond felt as if he were going mad. When he finally spotted you in one of the more secluded areas of the library, he grabbed your arm before you could scurry off.

“Tell me,” he told you. “Tell me everything about your parents, your home. Tell me about how the air was clean and clear. Tell me about how everywhere you looked, you saw white snow and clear ice. Tell me how much you loved your family, pets, friends – if you had any. I don’t care what it is. Tell me everything.”

At first, you only stared. He couldn’t tell if you were furious or in shock. But soon, your eyes lit up as if you had been given five hundred gold dragons.

“Where do you want me to start?” you asked him, eyes wide with joy and a heart finally learning to trust.

Lo and behold, he found his heart beginning to feel the same.

“Wherever you want.”

The smile you gave him was worth more than all the money locked within the Royal Treasury.

So many nights since that day, you would sit by his bedside, speaking so prettily that even the most brutal of their acts and customs fascinated Aemond. You would burn the midnight oil, telling him about the adventures and raids of the Free People beyond the Wall. That’s how you referred to yourself as a “free woman.” While you despised the title “savage,” you did not mind being labeled as “wilding.” You claimed that since you were born outside the Wall, the laws of Westeros did not apply to you. You have been seen as wild, but you knew in your heart that you were born free. And what was more impressive to Aemond was how you honestly and sincerely believed that you were born as a free woman.

He saw it in the way you would make little shadow puppets shows to bring a smile from Daeron after it was announced that he would leave for Oldtown.

He heard it in how you got the cooks to spit on your name after stealing bread from kitchens and then giving it to the small folk children living in impoverished areas of Flea Bottom.

He smelt it in how your hair would always smell like the wind in the Godswood to ride his horse when you were supposed to be learning your letters with the Head Septa.

He tasted it when you let him take a sip of that rotten ale you made in secret when you went through one of your horrible bouts of homesickness.

He felt it in how you raced to his chambers to hug him after he woke up from another nightmare of the memory of that night when he lost his right eye.

You were the strangest mystery Aemond had ever and will ever know. No matter how long he spent searching for answers in his favorite corner of the library, Aemond could never understand how someone with a heart as warm as (Y/N) could come from the frozen wasteland she loved to call home.

With a single but powerful stroke of his blade, Lord Vaemond Velaryon’s upper jaw fell as the rest of his body dropped to the floor. Visenya’s Dark Sister had once more bathed in its victim’s blood. Gasps and shrieks filled the Great Hall at the sight of dark blood oozing from his corpse. The members of the Royal members all had varying reactions. From his mother’s side, Helaena immediately covered her eyes and turned away – utterly horrified by the swift mutilation. Aegon grimaced but was otherwise unaffected. Not surprising. He’d seen similar carnage from the illegal fight rings run in Flea Bottom. Aemond took a slight step back in shock as he gaped at the now-deceased lord in mild admiration.

He had no idea tongues were so long.

Prince Daemon Targaryen stood before his ailing brother, tall and proud. There was not a twinge of remorse or regret on his youthful visage as he towered over the spilled blood soaking his boots. Undoubtedly, this man carried the blood and fire of the proud dragons that graced their house.

“He can keep his tongue.”

Brutish as Daemon was known to be, Aemond respected his uncle’s instinct to remove objects that voiced slander against his wife. However much of a whore his half-sister may be, she was still of royal blood and their father’s firstborn.

However, he wasn’t sure how much that last fact mattered, considering how she spread her legs to swill only to produce bastards as her heirs.

His grandfather ordered the Kingsguards to disarm his uncle, but Daemon only scoffed as he wiped the blood off his ancient blade with an old rag. Moments later, Aemond’s decaying father collapsed on the Iron Throne in exhaustion after over-exerting himself. His mother immediately rushed over to aid him when she heard his pained groans.

“Call the Maesters!” she shouted before reaching him. And when his father fell into her arms, that was the first time Aemond saw you throughout this entire proceeding.

You stood close to the walls, remaining present but unseen. It was not until his father called for you by his side that he removed you from your hiding place. You and an apprentice Maester took Viserys to his chambers, leaving behind his wife, children, grandchildren, and every member of the Royal Court. As Aemond watched you carry his hobbling sire to his chambers – likely to recite to him a passage of the History of Old Valyria or one of the many tales surrounding Queen Visenya’s practice of the dark arts – his blood froze as he noticed Daemon’s gaze was focused not on his brother, but on you.

An hour had passed since Lord Vaemond Velaryon’s unfortunate passing, and Aemond was still no closer to finding you. He felt as if he was going mad in desperation. He checked everywhere. The kitchens, catching you sneak bites of freshly baked honey cakes. The stables, to find you feeding the mares and stallions carrots and apples. Your chambers, spying through the keyhole as you sat at your desk writing new stories. He even went so far as to ride to the dragonpit, hoping that you were reading to Vhagar again. He was close to announcing an order to search for you to the closest Kingsguard when he spotted you standing underneath the Heartstree. When another figure approached you, the one-eyed prince was about to call out your name.

Daemon. And judging by the way his violet eyes leered at your womanly form, it was clear to Aemond that this meeting was no coincidence. Aemond stepped out of view and pressed himself close to the garden’s entrance. The silver-tressed prince cursed himself for not publicly claiming you so everyone knew you were his and his alone. Differences in stations mattered little when you grew up so beautifully.

A fact he was sure that did not go unnoticed by his uncle despite meeting you for the first time.

Not for the first time did Aemond find himself cursing the gods for creating perfection in a single woman. Time had been unkind to many but seemed to spare you of any misfortune. While you were far from the polished and perfect image of a proper lady, you slowly but surely assimilated yourself to life in the South of the Wall. You traded your hides and furs for dresses and trousers. Your wild (h/c) mane became untangled by his sister’s ladies-in-waiting frequent brushings. Regular meals and proper care took a starving child with sharp, bony jabs to a woman with soft, feminine curves and beauty rivaling the Maiden herself.

“How have you found your time so far from the wall, little wilding?”

“I spent every waking second soaked and flushed from sweat and heat. To make it worse, I can’t escape the shit and piss that stains and bathes your pretty keep. Tell me, does that answer your question, my prince?”

Daemon barked a short laugh, amused that his brother took in someone so clearly different from the court’s usual vultures.

“When I heard my brother had taken in a little girl from outside the wall as his little entertainer, I was expecting a hobbled cripple caked in dirt with no sign of grooming. But here you stand, appearing more like a proper lady than a savage wildling.”

“You can take the girl from the North, but you can never take the North from the girl.”

No truer words had ever been spoken.

Aemond smiled at your quick wit and tongue. You were still every bit of the girl dragged before his father when he was only ten name-days old, even if you changed a little bit.

You still styled your hair with the little braids commonly worn in the North, but sometimes, he would catch Helaena tucking feathers in your locks.

You still carried your father’s old hunting knife on your person, but you also kept the Valyrian steel dagger Aemond gave you on Yuletide Eve from three years past.

You still made frequent trips to pass the bread to the small folk in Flea Bottom; you always made sure to help lead Aegon back to his bed after he drank himself stupidly.

It was a challenge, but you’ve adapted and made a life here with the Royal Family, whether you liked it or not.

“Do you ever plan on coming out from behind the wall, my prince? Or do you plan on renouncing your title and becoming Master of Whispers on your father’s small council?”

Realizing that his cover has been blown, Aemond brought himself in view to face the wildling girl who had stolen his heart almost eight years ago. He was relieved that his uncle had left the gardens, probably to inseminate his half-sister once more. It was as if she needed more children to convince all of King’s Landing that her claim on his brother’s throne was legitimate and valid. It did not matter that the evidence of her whorish nature was growing before their eyes.

“Careful, my lady,” replied Aemond, “one might think your words as treason towards the prince.”

“Please,” you scoffed, “the only people who continue to insist on taming my tongue are your mother and grandfather. And we both know my opinions of both parties.” Your cheeks began to flush, and your demeanor grew shy as you whispered your following words. “Besides, why would I need to be afraid of anything when I have you?”

Oh, how his cold, bitter heart grew ten times warmer with your sweet words. He removed his black riding gloves, reached for your hands, and was taken aback by how cold your skin felt against his own.

As if afraid of his voice, he cradled your hands softly as if he were the hunter and you were a little snow rabbit on the edge of running away. Your unblinking observation persisted as you silently watched your silver-haired prince raised both of your hands to his pink lips. He took in a deep breath before exhaling out. The heat of his breath against your fingers sent chills down your back. His mouth was opened just enough for you to see his tongue, bringing a deep sense of shame to wash over you as you dreamed of how good it would feel to have his tongue feast on your cunt.

“What possessed you to come outside without a cloak?” The low timbres of his voice broke you from your lust as you just now realized that you brought yourself into his trap. “It is already winter (Y/n). You could grow sick if you are not careful.”

“You forget yourself, Aemond,” you replied, tearing your hands from his grip. You almost wept at how profoundly you felt the loss of his warmth. When did his hands become so rough and big? “I have the true North in my veins. Such meek and pitiful clouds and winds could never get me ill.”

“Why were you outside at all?” Aemond had hoped to find you in one of the rooms with a fire roaring inside. Even if you were not alone, you would have been warm.

“Thinking about home, I suppose. I was tiny, but I would help gather whatever wood was available and put it in a big pile. We would put on our ceremonial furs and robes, along with masks we painted from the skulls of our kills. After that, the adults would drink themselves stupid on ale and heated yak’s milk as they and the children would gather around the wood pile and then burn it. I remember dancing with my parents around the fire as we sang praises for the old gods and yelled out prayers for the sun. A few boys would probably try to sneak some kisses from the girls with mistletoe.”

The silence that followed only added to the tension.

“I think I would have been stolen by now.”

“Stolen?”

“Your Southerners version of ‘marriage,’ I suppose,” you stated as you lightly shrugged, “at my age, if you weren’t stolen, it meant that something was wrong with you. If I remained with my tribe, some man would have stolen me by now and pumped me full of his babies.”

Aemond saw red. He clenched his fists so hard that his knuckles further paled to an almost translucent view of his veins as he imagined some savage, wildling man forcing himself on you. He wanted to ride Vhaghar beyond the North, if only reaching beyond the Wall and burning it all to the ground. No man other than him was allowed to touch you. He had only touched your hand and already decided that the rest of you belonged to him and him alone.

Taking a few steps closer to you, he removed his leather patch and lifted your chin between his fingers to force your focus on him. His ears caught a slight intake of breath when you saw his sapphire eye as he was so close that he could practically feel your heart racing in anticipation. He preened in satisfaction when he caught your perfect (e/c) irises dart down to his lips before resting his face again. Aemond didn’t need to look down to know that you were clenching your thighs in an attempt to stop your arousal from leaking.

His sister’s approval be damned.

If your traditions dictated that you must be ‘stolen’ to be a wife, then he would be the one to steal you.

“Sweet (Y/n), you’ve grown so cold.”

Do you wish to go back?

His face was so close to yours that you could feel breaths mix with your own. You could smell the fine leather of his tunic, and the fragrance of spices from his silvery locks wrapped you in a blanket of comfort. His violet eye’s gaze showed a vulnerability lost since that night in Driftmark. The night when he gained a dragon at the cost of becoming a cripple. If Aemond was to risk everything he’s worked for, he had to know.

Would you, a Free Woman, let yourself be called as his?

“No, my Aemond” - you took his hands in yours to tenderly kiss his knuckles- “not anymore.”

I am right where I belong.

And he believed you.

Tagging: @valeskafics, @dreaming-for-an-escape, @arcielee, @asa-do-your-thing, @lady-ashfade , @faesspace, @its-actually-minicika, @aphroditesmoon, @bellamys-girl1, @immyowndefender, @xxlovingfandomsxx, @elinedjarin, @meg-egg-blog, @marvelescape, @mandiiblanche, @lokiofasgard12, @boxedpandas, @anewpersonthatexists, @toodlesxcuddles, @leavemeoutofitlay

#aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen #hotd x reader #got x reader #ewan mitchell #ewan nation #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fluff #hotd fanfic #hotd fandom

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goldensunset · 1 month

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share ur theories abt khml pleaseeeee im dying over here

ok ok i’m thinking. i’m thinking ummmm

so as pointed out in this post it’s odd that master’s defender is on freya’s weird conspiracy board/wall. seems like she’s gathering and analyzing important things to try to figure something out, right? so what’s particularly and immediately relevant about the founder’s keyblade?

i’m feeling like master’s defender is either 1. missing (even stolen), like that post was talking about or 2. they know exactly where it is but there’s something weird going on with it lately. like is it really just a regular keyblade? surely not

basically i can easily see this item as being central to whatever the conflict of this game is about. it is The Missing Link™️. like it’s clearly culturally very important to the people of scala bc their founder wielded it and he’s been immortalized in a statue holding it, and we know its history (having come from brain, who got it from ava, who may or may not have gotten it from MoM bc of the insignia) is a plenty interesting one. so there’s a lot they can do with it here

we also know its future is clearly an interesting and relevant one because eraqus inherits it. we can be absolutely certain without a doubt it was a nepotism thing as opposed to merit bc it’s been pointed out that he’s a blueblood and also there’s no way that doofus earned it by his own right or whatever lol. so like… khml is surely gonna feature the themes of bloodlines and inheritance, right?

but it’s super interesting bc (presumably) eraqus’s ancestor is brain, right? i mean he could possibly have dual lineage and also be related to ephemer at this point but like i feel like what they’ve been going for all along is that it’s brain. but then you consider how if master’s defender is associated with ephemer then surely his (main) bloodline would be the ones inheriting this keyblade right? assuming they don’t like have it in a museum being treated like a relic or whatever. (also assuming the one ephemer’s statue is holding isn’t literally the keyblade itself baked in there but that’s a thought tangent for another time)

my point being. it seems odd that eraqus would end up with it. that his ancestors would have it. and therefore i’m thinking possibly part of the plot of the game is that brain takes it for himself or something. i mean like it was his first and ephemer himself was like ‘ok i’ll take it but in my mind it still belongs to you’. would it really be in character for brain to steal like that? dunno. but there are a multitude of ways it might go down

like maybe it’s a national treasure-esque situation where he steals it to prevent someone else from stealing it. like he’s just holding onto it for safekeeping and ends up keeping it. alternatively he takes it bc there’s something weird happening with it and he wants to solve the mystery. basically this is how ‘brain gets arrested’ becomes real

much to think about

#you say ‘share your theories’ and i’m thinking ‘i don’t have any theories but i might as well just start typing and see where it goes’#and then. i end up having a theory #it’s magic how that happens. i figure out my thesis halfway through my essay #kingdom hearts #khml #khux #kingdom hearts missing link #asks #thanks anon #mine: kh #khml spoilers #ALMOST FORGOT THAT TAG. oops

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dcbbw · 6 months

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Commoner, Part 2--Secret

Part 2 of Commoner! Part 1 can be found here. We’re picking up where we left off (Leo left, Sav is pregnant, and no one knows)

This story was born of a long-standing head canon (Sav would crush on the older brother, not her brother’s best friend), and the song inspiration (original version, but used the sad and acoustic version for this fic); lyrics are also taken from the song inspo.

IF you read this, THANK YOU! Your likes, comments, and/or reblogs are appreciated more than you realize. Please excuse any and all typos, missing/extraneous words, and/or grammatical errors. MS Editor rates this story as 99% error-free.

To all those who read over this story in its various variations and renditions, THANK YOU! Your feedback, ideas, and encouragement was invaluable (as always).

Thanks to @choicesflashfics for their Week 62 prompt #2, which will appear in bold.

Song Inspo: Strangers (sad and acoustic version), Kenya Grace

Pairing(s): Savannah Walker x Leo Rys; Savannah Walker x Bertrand Beaumont

Word Count: 2,201

Rating: M for Mature themes

I sit in the back of the sleek, black Mercedes that is Duchy Ramsford’s official vehicle with the Brothers Beaumont, en route to the Palace. King Constantine has requested a meeting of the Great Houses.

And me.

I vacillate between relief that he will put those awful rumors to rest, and fear that Leo will be there with that woman.

“You appear to be deep in thought,” Bertrand observes. “Are you feeling well?”

I plaster a quick smile onto my lips. “Merely curious why the King would want me to be present at this meeting.”

The Duke gives me a solicitous nod, and I again wonder why he’s been so nice to me since our breakfast encounter. It’s not that Bertrand is a bad guy; he has taught me a lot during my month at House Beaumont. I know more than I ever wanted to about utensils, glassware, table etiquette, and bloodlines and lineage. I now know that the reason I don’t have the title of Lady, the most ubiquitous yet ambiguous title a woman can hold, is because I don’t belong to a House.

I’m commoner.

But he isn’t a nice guy either, so the attention is a bit … odd.

“I wonder if it has anything to do with Leo, and all the news stories?” Max pipes up. “Although I suppose if Bastien is at the Palace and Leo isn’t, that may be all the confirmation we need.”

Bertrand looks out the window. “We’re here,” he announces.

I swear I feel my baby flip inside my stomach, which is stupid. I’m only eight weeks along.

As we walk up the front staircase, I don’t feel a sense of homecoming. I only feel dread. My throat closes when Bastien opens the door and leads us to the formal living room where the other guests are gathered. Groups are huddled close together; there are murmurs of conversations I cannot hear. I hug my brother and struggle through a curtsy meant to encompass the entire room. No one acknowledges me other than Kiara, who gives me a huge grin and enthusiastic hug.

And I wonder why I feel the need to be a part of this world, to be accepted by the very people who never will.

That it'll never change And it will just stay like this

I catch a glimpse of Madeleine, who is stone-faced; only the paleness of her skin and the clenching of her jaw signals anger, embarrassment, and hurt. I look down at her hands; her fingers are bare of jewelry.

Leo has left both of us.

The King clears his throat, and we all turn towards the front of the room. He is flanked by Queen Regina and Liam; all of them are wearing stoic expressions and I know … in my brain, my heart, my very soul … Leo has run off and fulfilled promises he could never make to me to another woman. I’m a single, teenaged mother with absolutely nothing to my name; I can’t even leverage the child growing inside of me.

There is a buzzing in my ears that drowns out the words my monarch is uttering until he states that Liam will ascend to the throne. There is to be a social season, and I will be the House Beaumont sponsee. The Crown will fund my sponsorship as I was still their ward and had no properties of my own. Drake’s face darkens, Bertrand beams proudly, and Max jumps up and down in excitement.

There’s something about Bertrand’s smile … he isn’t surprised to hear this news. Did he already know what to expect? Was Leo the phone call that morning?

I throw up on the priceless carpet and my hand-me-down shoes.

Three weeks pass, weeks where I scour newspapers, magazines, and the internet for news of my baby’s father. There is a plethora of media, mostly photos of him in motocross tournaments: smiling happily in the Mojave Desert, frowning in concentration as he inspects his vehicle in UAE, sunning on a beach in Greece. The woman is not in the pictures, and rarely mentioned in the articles.

Now she can be his dirty little secret.

And when we spoke for months Well, did you ever mean it? How can we say that this is love When it goes like this?

Meanwhile, in Cordonia, my hips are spreading; my breasts are getting fuller, and my belly is only slightly rounded. Bertrand has ramped up my training but takes care to give me breaks throughout the day and we are now spending our meals together without Maxwell. He shares stories of his education, his time as a fashion designer, and memories of his childhood.

He walks me to my room every evening; occasionally he holds my hand.

I am not in love with Bertrand, but I find myself enjoying his company more and more.

But every time I meet somebody new It's like déjà vu I swear they sound the same It's like they know my skin

We’re sitting in Bertrand’s study one night; he is poring over documents related to Liam’s cabinet. Bertrand and Rashad Domvallier are to be financial and legal advisors to the new future King. I watch him nervously. I’ve decided that tonight is the time to tell him I cannot be the House’s sponsee. It isn’t fair to not tell him; he’ll need time to find someone new and school them in the ways of nobility.

My fingernails pluck nervously at my robe. I could very well be homeless in the next 15 minutes. Bertrand takes his duties as Duke seriously and is extremely rigid when it came to appearances and reputation; an unwed, pregnant commoner could not reside under the roof of House Beaumont. However, returning to the Palace would be a disaster between King Constantine and Big Brother Drake.

But it has to be done. This baby is going to make itself known sooner than later.

He drains his third glass of cognac before sighing heavily and pushing himself away from his desk. With an unsteady gait, he crosses the room to join me on the sofa. He looks almost regal in his gold silk robe with black piping, and black pajama bottoms. He sits so closely, I smell his cologne; it’s Hermès.

Leo always wore Armani.

“Savannah, I’d like to have a … conversation of a different sort with you.” His breath smells of liquor and his words are slightly slurred.

“Isn’t that funny?” I reply in a squeaky voice. “I wanted to have one with you also.”

He pulls one of my hands into his as he begins to speak. “You need to know that while you may be participating in the social season, you won’t win the hand of the Crown Prince. The position requires someone of lineage, with a knowledge of world politics and has a pulse on the fluctuating nature of both Court and Crown. However, the Engagement Tour should afford you an opportunity to marry into a minor house.”

I stare at him dumbfounded. Drunk Bertrand pisses me off.

“However, I do find myself being very attracted to you. I propose an offer that should be beneficial to both of us. I’d like you to be my mistress until we both find persons worthy of our status and station. You would become an honorary member of House Beaumont to assure you have a title, and I can be a very generous lover in more ways than one.”

He drops my hand and rises from the couch on his second attempt. He goes to a coat closet, opens the door, and retrieves a package. The box is emblazoned with Hermès’ name and logo. He brings it back to me, carefully placing it in my lap.

“Open it,” he urges.

I do so to find a limited-edition white matte satchel, made of leather and silk. The tag is still attached: $200,000 USD. I look up at him, knowing that he wants me to know how much it costs.

“Your … mistress?” I ask as my body feels as if it’s going numb.

And it will just stay like this Never really dating, breaking up

“This world is cruel. I’m just playing by its rules. It would behoove you to do so as well. You can’t be anything else to me or anyone of stature. You’re a commoner with the most basic of public education. You are ignorant in the ways of Court, the circles you would need to travel in. I am happy to give you the benefit of my knowledge, but at the end of the day, I am a Duke. Dukes don’t marry commoners.”

He says it all as if he is telling me the sun will rise in the east. Bertrand means no harm; nobles never do. Or so they claim.

Every word they say sounds just like him

My eyes fall back to the price tag, realizing I have my way out. I can keep my secret, and everyone’s precious reputation is intact.

“It’s late, Your Grace and you have given me a lot to process. I’ll have an answer for you in due time.”

He gives me a small smile. “May I … may I kiss you?”

A small shake of my head. “No,” I reply in an almost-rueful tone.

I know my place.

His smile falters, and he nods slowly. “My apologies. That was presumptuous of me.”

I mentally shake my head. THAT is what he considered to be the most horrible thing about his proposition? I box the purse again, and stand.

“I’ll see you at breakfast.”

Three months later, I am standing on the balcony of my small pied-a-terre located in a quaint, quiet Parisian neighborhood, watching the day come to an end. The sun is still bright in the sky, but evening is fast approaching. My fingers comb through my dark, thick tresses before pulling a toffee-colored cardigan tighter across my expanding body.

It’s springtime and I think again how leaving Cordonia to settle here was the best move. Paris had always been my dream destination: red lipsticks, rich wines, decadent perfumes, trendy runway fashions.

The baby and I have even learned to enjoy the food.

My eyes take in the Palais Garnier, also known as the Paris Opera House, not that far in the distance before falling to the cobblestoned streets below: restaurant and café doors open, unleashing aromas of grilled meat and sauteed onions as bakeries pull window shades down. Women with chic hats and impossibly high heels exit dress stores, shopping bags bunched in fisted hands. Street vendors begin putting away their wares.

My stomach rumbles, and I head inside. There had been a late breakfast/early lunch a few hours ago, but the fruit, yogurt, and cheese and spinach omelet have all but disappeared now. My child has a healthy appetite. I walk around a black wrought iron table with matching chairs, pausing to fluff oversized chair cushions decorated with huge sunflowers.

I push the terrace door shut behind me before going into the kitchen. I had taken a chicken out earlier, but I no longer have an appetite for it. Instead, I want pistou pasta with grilled duck and extra mushrooms from my favorite bistro.

But money is tight. Despite having a job and being frugal with the savings leftover from the sale of the purse Bertrand gifted me, I need to be mindful of rent, food, doctor’s appointments once the child gets here and I will be on unpaid leave.

I’m having a boy that I will name Barthelemy, Bartie for short. It’s my way of paying homage to Maxwell for being such an incredible and caring friend during all of this. He doesn’t know who the father is and has never pressured me to tell him. He sends money and has offered to make an honest woman of me.

All of this even though I left House Beaumont without a sponsee, and they now either have to find one that they will have to fully sponsor or withdraw.

A knock at the door captures my attention; I stare at it with a frown. I don’t have many friends in Paris; Maxwell is due for his monthly visit next week. He’s bringing Drake and Kiara with him. They were the only two I instructed Maxwell to tell of my whereabouts. Drake and I aren’t close, but we are all we have left as far as family. He deserved to know. Kiara’s my best girlfriend, and she speaks French. Win-win.

I would like to see Liam, but he has much to learn and do before the social season begins in less than 12 weeks.

I slowly and laboriously cross the small distance between the kitchen and the front door; my eye widens as I peer through the peephole.

Leo.

He looks even more handsome if that’s possible. He carries a bouquet of flowers in one hand as he looks around the hallway. I quietly and cautiously back away from the door as tears prick the corners of my eyes.

And then one random night When everything changes You won't reply And we'll go back to strangers

Tagging: @jared2612 @ao719 @marietrinmimi @indiacater @kingliam2019 @bebepac @liamxs-world @mom2000aggie @liamrhysstalker2020 @twinkleallnight @umccall71 @superharriet@busywoman @gabesmommie1130 @tessa-liam @beezm @gardeningourmet @lovingchoices14 @mainstreetreader @angelasscribbles @lady-calypso @emkay512 @princessleac1 @charlotteg234 @alj4890 @motorcitymademadame @queenmiarys @choicesficwriterscreations

#dcbbw writes #part 2/2 #savannah walker #bertrand beaumont #leo rys #writer on tumblr

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statementlou · 1 year

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I was just wondering, about Harry's "people like me" line, I know the whole message is about being queer and etc. but the thing that confuses me is that some people is pushing that he was once in the "working class" but isn't H quite "posh" before One-D? Right? I actually don't get the narratives people are pushing tbh, what can you say about it (genuinely asking)

Well in fact I don't think he does mean queer by that, and I don't think it would make any sense if he did, if he was saying queers never get to be famous pop stars! I think that would be extremely wrong if anyone said it, but the idea of Harry saying it is especially ludicrous given his interest in and knowledge of the incredible lineage of queer musicians he is a part of, such as the 70s rockers he takes so much of his aesthetic from like David Bowie, Elton John, Mick Jagger, Freddie Mercury, and all the other artists he pays tribute to in various ways through his outfits and show playlists and so on.

I do believe he means because he's just a regular working class guy from a small town in England who got lucky on a television show. And no, he wasn't posh before TXF. I feel like that's a narrative that comes partially from images pushed by the early 1D machinery and partially from some aspects of the way his accent sounds to non British people, but while his family was not in poverty or hungry, he absolutely did not belong to a class of people who could reasonably expect to have opportunities to find themselves on the grammys stage in California without a one in ten million arrangement of lucky chances. As someone who knows him and has seen him talk many times, it was heartwrenchingly apparent how overwhelmed he was in that moment, he was shaky and had no idea what to say or if he could manage to get it out before he started crying and so he reached for a familiar thing he says every night on stage, choked it out and got off the mic. But the people watching in this case weren't his adoring concert crowd and didn't know and love him or care about that and weren't thinking about him being from a boyband or a reality show and how much people might look down on him in the industry for that, and without context (and in the context of Beyonce being denied yet another AOTY award) it wasn't the best thing he could have said. I'm glad for him that he's free of the 1D managers trying to shut him up from behind every camera, but possibly he could benefit from consulting with experts a little bit here and there. In specific, given that his analysis around his privilege as a white person is, well, not very advanced, if he wants to avoid situations where he pisses people off just like this he should hire a person of color to consult him on such things, which is in fact a thing that some white people in positions where they say things publicly do to avoid saying things that come off very badly/ are offensive on account of just being a bit oblivious.

#he means he's not a nepo baby!#and its a real point #look at who his friends are in the industry like kaia gerber or whoever #he looks at that and at himself and is like #wow #what are the chances of me being here #and he's right #plus the way people look down on him still #did anyone read that article of who grammy voters voted for with the guy who was like I didn't even listen to HsH #he was in a boyband and I do hold that against him #otoh at least people are discoursing about him winning big rather thanabou t his performance #which is very very good and I'm sure he GREATLY prefers #hopefully this discourse will distract everyone from that #poor nervous babe #blah blah blah

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whetstonefires · 1 year

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What is your Hogwarts house?

I don't think that's considered a question in good taste anymore lmao.

And, actually, I never liked it much even as a kid, because sorting discourse did not adhere to the framework shown in the text. It consistently drifted to rigorous application of the ruleset laid out by the hat in its little song, which was blatantly called out as a convenient simplification about one page after the formula was originally presented.

Like. The fact that each cohort is broken down into four roughly equal pods and lineage is clearly a major determining factor, as is personal preference, is made clear very early. This is a cultural institution, that shapes the characters who grow within it quite as much as it's assigned based on their innate traits, and within the framework of which people actively look for identity elements to define themselves by.

People in my high school would be sorting adult fictional characters and doing elaborate balancing of their True Natures as revealed by their various plot events and defining life choices and patterns of behavior in their own generally dramatic canons and I'd be like. Okay, what do you think they were like when they were eleven though.

What were their values at eleven? What parts of their potential to be Like That were developed enough to show up on a psychic scan by a sapient hat, at eleven? What backstories are we assuming they're coming into this from; this man is a duke from fantasy medieval europe are we going to analogize him to a posh normie family, or the magic snobs, or are we dimensional-teleporting his baby self into wizard school?

Look, assigning Hogwarts houses to grown-ass adults on the basis of their adult developed identities doesn't make sense, that is very clearly not how anything works, this is a child-sorting algorithm. You have to apply it to children or it's invalid.

...also I was a Ravenclaw. I knew this. Everyone who had ever met me knew this. Any and every online quiz I was convinced to take knew this. I was so boring. I could not even make a serious case for my being one of the people who'd argue my way into another category I was minorly qualified for, or get there on family values or something, because I didn't want to not be a dumb nerd and my family is also dumb nerds. I was such an easy sort it was no fun at all, I was a walking stereotype.

It was embarrassing, is what it was. I was a flat character with no depth, rip child me. It was like if you could fail astrology by adhering precisely to your horoscope.

(My younger sisters wanted to be Gryffindor but consistently tested Hufflepuff and vice versa respectively, and I do not at this time remember which was which. The tests that gave you percentile rankings did give them minors in the ones they wanted tho.)

Anyway looking back on this in reaction to your ask, I find myself reflecting that House affiliation actually worked very much like gender, in that the way it was assigned was treated in-story as being based on absolute inherent qualities that defined a whole person, but quite clearly per the text actually worked by finding a schema you had an acceptable percent overlap with at a young age, and then setting you up to be perceived and instructed through that filter for the rest of your life.

The affiliation had meaning! But it was mostly meaning derived from the affiliation, and its social weight.

The ability of characters to find the sometimes deeply hidden Potential to live up to the person they aspired to be, thereby retroactively justifying the Sorting they had cajoled their way into, is like a major story element, you know?

I feel like this is yet another one of those places where rowling is a fairly gifted drawer of engaging caricatures; where when she was drawing on her actual lived experience (as opposed to hearsay and stereotype) to create something imitating that thing (in this case Belonging To Category) by intuition, the result would have nicely proportioned parts and some solid symbolic details, and work on an internal level more-or-less consistently, if not necessarily according to any strict logic.

Rather than being realistic it had a feeling of reality, which is in itself a perfectly reasonable way to approach light fiction. I often find myself wishing I could work in this more gestural manner sometimes, instead of drilling relentlessly down to detail.

The trouble is that things like those verisimilitudinous gaps between what people do and how they interpret their own doing, which lend the setting a great deal of dynamism, are only sometimes intentional, and the longer she extends any one bit and the more seriously she attempts to take it, the more likely she is to fall into the gaps and loudly deny that she has done any such thing, while digging herself into a pit of stupid.

#ask #hoc est meum #Anonymous #harry potter shit #i forgot the word horoscope for fully seven seconds there #i think trans sister wanted to be a hufflepuff #painfully cis ravenclaw is a funny concept tho #note that the funny language used here was not something i was capable of at 14

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auxiliarydetective · 2 months

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Evie's One Piece OC Compendium

SO @eustasskidsfattits asked me to make a post about my One Piece OCs, so here it is! I wanted to make this way sooner, but then stuff happened and then I got to show one of my friends OPLA and 8 OCs turned to 9 (oopsies...). Also, the perfectionist in me would not shut up. Yes, this is technically the intro for the three newest ones, so buckle up!

I'm gonna list them in the order that I created them, simply because listing them in the order of their appearance in the story would be fairly impossible with how OPLA likes to introduce characters earlier on lol - These OCs also all exist in their own separate universes, by the way...

So yeah, long post incoming and, for any OPLA-onlies reading this post: Spoiler warning!!!

Not proofread because I just wanna finally get this post out and I am lacking energy

The Guardian: Aether S. Luna

The original One Piece OC and also the one who has gone through the most changes. I revamped her only recently!

Luna is convinced that she's the daughter of the moon goddess aka of Mother Moon herself, and there are some very odd things about her that make that very plausible. She looks like how you would imagine the daughter of the moon to look like, with very pale skin and very light blonde hair, she has magical powers that are charged by basking in the moonlight, she needs very little sleep as long as the moon is out, her strength is based on the moon cycle... Oh, also: Wings. Large, white wings, that don't fit in with any other humanoid creature in the world. So, nobody really has any solid evidence against it either. Well... Nobody who hasn't been to Egghead Island.

She's introduced into the story at Long Ring Long Land (I actually have two fics for that) as a part of Foxy's crew because he won her in a Davy Back Fight. Before that, she was sort of aimlessly travelling the seas with various crews, just trying to find a place to belong. Throughout the Davy Back Fight, Luna ends up befriending the Straw Hats and Luffy, being Luffy, of course won't pass up the opportunity to have someone as weird as her on their crew, so she joins!

Sanji is, of course, very enamoured with this literal goddess. Even more so than usual. Luckily for him, his charm seems to be working on Luna too. She essentially goes from "Oh, you're adorable. You're funny." to "Oh. Oh no. That's the love of my life, isn't it?", at the very latest when she sees Sanji after he absolutely decimates the people on the Sea Train.

I can't really talk too much about her because a lot of my ideas for her are very visual, but I guess I could give some more little facts? First of all, Luna is 18 and her blood group is S. You can take a look at my animanga character sketches for her here and here if you want! Her wings haven't grown to their full size yet pre-timeskip, and she molts like a bird as she grows, so whenever that happens, she's essentially grounded and chronically exhausted. And that happens around the time of Sabaody. Perfect timing, right? Also, she has to preen her wings, especially after battles, and her crewmates keep around her feathers either for practical or sentimental reasons. And in case you were wondering, of course she heads to Whole Cake Island to go after her boyfriend. Big Mom takes an interest in her, Judge wants to steal her lineage factor, it's a very fun time for everyone involved.

The Sweet Tooth: Charlotte Inari

Ah yes, sweet little Inari. Inari is Pudding's twin sister, she's also a member of the Three-Eyed Tribe and she's named after inari-zushi (if you were wondering how she fits into the Charlotte Family naming scheme). She ate the Kami Kami no Mi, Model: Shikigami, which has a very complicated way to how it works, but, essentially, it binds her to a master whose orders she has to follow and, in turn, gets special abilities from based on her master's. That master is the person who last saved her life. The problem with that situation is that she got the devil fruit when she was still very young and travelling at sea with one of her siblings, and a sea battle ensued where chaos happened and she got herself kidnapped. So, she ends up being passed around from master to master for years until finally ending up with Enel. That is, until Luffy defeats him, and she joins the Straw Hats.

Inari, being that she spent her early formative years on Totto Land, has some very interesting ideas of what's considered normal for animals, plant life, people... for everything, really. She fights with two war fans (as well as her devil fruit, of course) and knows how to play the shamisen, both of which she picked up while travelling with a crew of Wano ancestry for a while. Also, she naturally has a huge sweet tooth and loves to make sweets too. It runs in her genes.

Inari's goal while travelling with the Straw Hats at first is to get back home. She's just a kid, she wants to go home, at least to let her family know that she's okay. And her family and her friends will totally get along, right??? That's also why she doesn't fully consider herself part of the Straw Hats for the longest time. She's a member of the Big Mom Pirates, simply by birth right. However, this all gets a bit thrown on its head with the Timeskip and everything after that. Because, during the timeskip, Kuma sends her to Totto Land, and she officially joins the Big Mom Pirates. So, she has everything she has ever wanted, right? Well... She still ends up coming back. She loves her friends too much not to go back to them. And then Luffy ends up starting a war with Big Mom, which is... not ideal? Whole Cake Island is especially fun. And Wano? Oh boy!

Also... remember the special ability of the Three-Eyed Tribe? Yeah. Inari awakens her third eye when she hears the Drums of Liberation, but nobody notices and she doesn't tell anybody until the battle is long over, and even then she only tells Sanji and Robin.

The Tailor: Akaito Coraline

My dear, sweet Cora... We're entering the live action era now! Aka when everything started to escalate and I started drowning in OCs. I freaking love the live action, man... Maybe a little too much.

Anyways, Cora! Cora is the last living member of the Akaito Clan, a tailoring family from the North Blue of world-class fame who was eradicated by Germa 66 when they didn't want to work for their evil plans. Their main identifier is a sewing needle pierced through the left ear, and they can tell a person's measurements just by looking at them. Of course, there are many imposters around because Akaito-made clothes sell for a fortune, but they usually fail at these criteria. Cora was only a baby when the attack from Germa happened, so she doesn't remember anything from that day or about her family, except for her mother, who was selected as the sole adult survivor of the massacre, because she had Cora, and Judge had plans for Cora. Little did Judge know that her mother also had plans for Cora, and that she had given the baby the Akaito Clan's most prized possession: The Sew Sew Fruit (Chiku Chiku no Mi), which gives its user mastery over the entire clothesmaking process and its tools and materials.

I don't want to get too much into Cora's backstory here, but she befriended Sanji and thought that he had died, and then her mother died, she helped create and designed the Raid Suits and then she ran away with the help of Reiju at 16 years old. Afterwards, she rose to considerable fame as a tailor in the East Blue, until finally stumbling across Sanji at Baratie, the same day that the Straw Hats also show up there. Shenanigans ensue.

I think, if I were going to describe Cora's personality in only three aspects, it's trauma, kindness, and a huge double crush that she doesn't like to admit. Because not only is she wholly unprepared for Sanji being not only alive but also a pretty and charming young man, there's also a swordsman who she has to stitch back together after a big fight and who she ends up falling head over heels for. The two boys constantly bickering doesn't help much either, and they also bicker over her, constantly trying to out-boyfriend each other. In case you were wondering whose side Cora usually takes in these fights, the answer is: She joins in on the side of entertainment. Whichever side would yield the funnier result. She just thinks their fights are way too funny and stupid. Also, she's constantly touch-starved and also scared of touch. And sleep-deprived. She gets better in the "scared of touch" category over the course of her journey with the Straw Hats, so... Sleepy cuddles. So many sleepy cuddles. If Zoro's taking a nap, she's taking a nap too, no buts. And Sanji eventually ends up with his arm around her waist 90% of the time. His personal space is also her personal space.

So, uh, fighting style! She uses a rapier and keeps explaining to people that, no, she's not a swordsman, she's a fencer. There's a difference. Also, she uses strings a lot, and plagiarizes Doffy's travelling method after Dressrosa. The thing with strings and dyes and whatnot is a whole new can of worms that I won't get into right now but it's super cool.

One more fun fact: Cora is short. She's tiny. And she wears heels to compensate, which Zoro hates because they're not practical at all. Her entire fashion sense gives him minor aggressions, partially because a lot of her clothes are a lot more fashion than function, partially because she looks too damn gorgeous in them and he's constantly reminded of his embarrassing crush and has gotten so distracted by her that he has walked into tables and doorframes multiple times. Sanji, on the other hand, fully supports her fashion choices. Maybe show a little more skin next time..? Pretty please? I have concept art for her and one of the more distracting outfits :)

The Scout: "Desert Fox" Felicity

The baby of the crew. Yeah, she's younger than Chopper. Inari is already young, being 14, but Lily? Lily is twelve. Absolute baby. How did she end up with the Straw Hats? Blame it on Buggy kidnapping her and then kidnapping the Straw Hats on top, letting them bust her out with them. Nami and Zoro pretty much become her caretakers on the spot, Nami consciously and Zoro... well... Turns out he has a bit of a soft spot for little scared kids with fox ears. They bring her back home to her "sister" Kaya at Syrup Village, but then she almost gets murdered by a killer butler, and Kaya asks them to take Lily with them, so... Well, she's with them now! Only about a few days later though, one of her caretakers gets himself almost killed and the other decides to abandon the crew. Good thing that Sanji has pretty much decided to adopt her, because otherwise she'd be crying her eyes out.

Lily is actually half mink! That's where she got her fennec fox features and some of her behavioural patterns (i.e. cuddliness, switching between napping and getting the zoomies...) from. But her behaviour could just as well be caused by her devil fruit, because she ate the Jōi Jōi no Mi, which gives her emotions magical properties. Which ones? No one knows! You'll find out when it happens. Pretty much the only really predictable effect back when Lily joins the crew is that she turns back into a nonverbal five-year-old when she gets too scared. She also has a pretty good success rate of turning into a more anthropomorphic fox creature when getting into the spirit for a battle. She's a mink after all, and minks are born fighters! And in case you're wondering: Yes, she does have electro! And sharp teeth. You do not want to make her upset. Best case scenario is that she bites you, worst case is either some magical shenanigans or she starts crying and her crewmates come to kick your ass.

I haven't developed her too much beyond the first season of OPLA, but I just know that she has to go absolutely feral at Alabasta, because that's a fennec fox's natural habitat and her epithet is "Desert Fox", so it only makes sense for her to get it at Alabasta. Also, it would be peak funny for Crocodile to complain to the Marines about a literal child messing up his plans, and peak funny is also peak One Piece, so you best believe I'll do it. Also, her being this young means I get to watch her grow up over the timeskip. I imagine she maybe gets sent to Zou and starts to really master her electro and devil fruit attacks? Something along the lines of "I'm all grown up now! I have my powers under control!" and then immediately turning back into a kindergartener in the face of danger would probably be her running gag post-TS. Also, I'm so soft for her relationship with Sanji. I could go on for ages about Whole Cake Island, but I'll leave it at that for now. This post is already getting long enough...

The Matron: Dracule Aurelia

Oh boy, you're not ready for her. She's the daughter of Rayleigh and Shakky. Trans queen (thanks, Iva). Raised as a Kuja, got love sickness just like her mother and fell for a red-headed idiot first, then for a certain swordsman. Ended up marrying the swordsman in the most dramatic way possible. Also maybe the second most beautiful woman in the world, after Boa Hancock of course.

Aurelia is essentially the fusion of a mafia boss, a mob wife, and an Ancient Roman patron. She has unbelievable amounts of money and an invisible net of connections that makes her almost untouchable. She's allied with Emperors, Warlords, kings and queens... Her main deal is providing smaller, more inexperienced pirate crews with her protection and support and getting their services in return, for example as soliders, for transportation... Whatever she needs at that moment. She can be as kind as she can be cruel, and people are generally both in awe and scared of her. Her epithet is "Black Widow" both because of her spider net of connections and because all of her lovers keep mysteriously dying as if through some sort of curse. Mihawk is the only one who has been able to resist that curse. Shanks doesn't count because Aurelia claims she never truly loved him.

One of the places under her protection is Baratie, and so she gets caught up in the Straw Hats' shenanigans. First, Nami asks her for help, then she returns to Arlong ransacking the place and essentially kidnapping Nami, then she finds out that Zoro was almost killed by her husband... Also, Sanji is the closest thing to a son that she has, so Sanji joining the Straw Hats is pretty much the final nail in the coffin to her deciding on her own terms that she's going to protect those kids to the best of her ability. You can kind of imagine her as the rich aunt, but a lot more deadly. Generally, she spends a majority in the story picking up her den den mushi and going "Luffy, what did you do this time?" The boy pretty much becomes her most effective portégé when it comes to expanding her territory, because he keeps punching tyrants and asking her to put the newly freed kingdoms under her protection. She also kicks ass at Marineford, of course, helps protect the Sunny during the timeskip, and becomes decorously unhinged when Whole Cake Island comes around because of her own personal history with Big Mom and "That's my son!" and "Luffy, you are not going to kill an Emperor." - so yeah, she pretty much has to follow the Straw Hats to Wano too, lest they get themselves kicked. She's both the queen of the literal universe and the exhausted mother of a crew of literal toddlers. Or. Well. Children and one supercharged toddler who will not stop causing chaos.

Her entire backstory is so freaking great. Growing up as a Kuja, running away from home because she's mad at her mother for leaving the Kuja tribe, her very first murder of a lover who also happened to be a nobleman, her bond with Iva and speedy hormone therapy, whatever the hell was going on between her and Shanks, her relationship with Mihawk, the whole situation with Big Mom and her rules for alliances, Mihawk literally fighting for her hand in marriage, her meeting Sanji and essentially adopting him... There's a lot going on. Wish I could write it one day.

The Mechanic: Lux Jirou

Lynx boi! Kuro tricked him into thinking he had Amber Lead Snydrome but it's actually just vitiligo. Used to be a member of the Black Cat Pirates (posing as the mansion's security guard) but liked Kaya a little too much and figured out Kuro was lying, so he teamed up with the Straw Hats to take him down. Also has the worst crush on Zoro and Zoro has the worst crushback, but they're both too stupid to figure it out. He goes by Jirou while with the Black Cat Pirates but starts going only by his last name Lux once he starts rebelling. Ends up joining the Heart Pirates and working as a mechanic on the Polar Tang.

Once again, so many of my ideas for him are more visual because... big kitty! Huge freaking paws! Cuddly cat naps! Involuntary purring because he has a crush and he's a cat and... Yeah. Also, he's absolutely thriving at Punk Hazard. Lots of snow? No problem! Lynx have built-in snow shoes. Also, his devil fruit (Neko Neko no Mi, Model: Lynx), much like the dinosaur SMILEs of the Beasts Pirates, works with Zoan logic. "Lynxes can walk on snow, so they can also walk on water, right? Since water is just frozen snow. And then maybe they can walk on air too if they train hard enough? Because of the humidity?"

The Siren: Kanyalani

Also known as Kan-chan, because Luffy is not pronouncing her full name. She's a betta fish mermaid and former slave and joined the Sun Pirates after being liberated. She has a romance with Jinbe which eventually turns into a polycule with the addition of Robin and Franky when they both join the Straw Hats. Kan-chan fights with chakrams and uses Merman Combat as well as some Fishman Karate.

Now for some mermaid characteristics: Since she's a betta fish mermaid, she shares betta fish characteristics. This means that she loves her color when she's unhappy and becomes more vibrant when she is happy. She also has a unique ability. Whereas all mermaids have beautiful voices, Kan-chan's singing can lull anyone to sleep, even in the midst of battle. Also, she's over thirty, so her tail is split, but she has trouble walking, so she practically never does it. She prefers using Bubbly Corals to navigate and claims that her very frilly fin makes for bad legs anyways.

The Archer: Shimotsuki Kaede

A Kuina look alike from Ebisu Town who nearly gives Zoro a heart attack when he sees her with her mask off for the first time. The concept for this OC basically came to me in the concept of many What Ifs. What if Kuina was still alive? What if Kuina was even more gender? What if there was a flying squirrel? What if someone pulled a Robin Hood on Orochi?

So, here's Kaede. Regular Ebisu Town citizen by day, dying and mending kimonos, stealing food and shooting arrows at people by night. As Ebisu Town gets the leftovers from the Flower Capital, this also includes the half-eaten SMILEs, and Kaede had the one-in-a-million luck of one of the SMILEs, finicky things that they are, still having traces of the power it once gave. And so, she got the power of the flying squirrel SMILE, making her the "devil fruit twin" of Bao Huang. She practices kyūdō in secret and almost runs an arrow through Orochi's head after Yasuie's execution. She would've hit the bastard too if someone hadn't hit her bow and made her miss.

The Soldier: Roronoa Sonoko

Ah yes, the reason why this post took me so long... She just appeared the moment I saw the scene in OPLA where Morgan tries to get Zoro to join the Marines. Because my brain went: Y'know, what if he actually had? So, I bring to you: Zoro's sister. No, not biological sister. They're siblings the way the ASL brothers are siblings. By exchanging sake cups. They got in trouble for stealing the sake and the cups but it was all worth it. What makes the situation even funnier is that Sonoko keeps on telling people that they're not biological siblings but nobody believes her because she's pretty much Zoro's spitting image. And it's her fault, too! Because she chooses to wear those earrings (more or less, but that's a bit of a longer story) and she chooses to dye her hair green! Yes, among the thousands of people with naturally funky hair colors, Kaede is pretty much the only one who actually dyes her hair.

So yeah, she's a Marine! Freshly promoted to Ensign when Koby and Helmeppo join and Garp's protégé. Her sword training comes from Bogard but she uses Two-Sword Style, so it's more her figuring out techniques and Bogard putting up with them. That is until Garp calls on Mihawk to go catch Luffy. Hawk Eyes comes to the ship to say that he decided not to do just that and Garp, as a payment for not reporting this to the World Government, asks Mihawk to take Sonoko on as a student. Mihawk, being Mihawk, is about to remind Garp that he does whatever he wants and doesn't need a deal like that. But then he sees the spitting image of Zoro in front of him and hears the same last name - and he changes his mind. Maybe it's worth a shot?

Following that, I don't have that many ideas except that Sonoko gets a bunch of promotions, only to go AWOL to warn Mihawk of the dismantling of the Warlords system during the Reverie because, at this point, she's far more loyal to him than to the Government or the Marines. She then completely deserts and dashes to Wano to help her brother and his crew defeat Kaido. In the process of the Raid on Onigashima (possibly while protecting either Hiyori or Zoro), she loses an arm and one of her swords and is just... overcome with guilt and shame. So much so that she can't bring herself to return to Mihawk after this incredible failure. Franky does replace her arm with a robotic one and everyone is super nice and supportive to her, the samurai step in and try to reason with her, but she's completely blinded by shame and anxiety. She keeps training, of course, she keepy going, but she just doesn't see herself as worthy anymore of being the student of the World's Greatest Swordsman. But then Mihawk himself shows up at Wano, looking specifically for her and tells her that she isn't a failure, that he's proud of her for her sacrifice for her cause and, most importantly of all, because she kept going. So, all is well and she joins the Cross Guild. Maybe befriends Cabaji, I dunno.

Taglist: @starcrossedjedis @oneirataxia-girl @daughter-of-melpomene @bravelittleflower @box-of-bats @supermarine-silvally - let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

#one piece oc #opla oc #oc: aether s luna #oc: charlotte inari #oc: akaito coraline #oc: felicity #oc: dracule aurelia #oc: lux jirou #oc: kanyalani #oc: shimotsuki kaede #oc: roronoa sonoko

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bitchapalooza · 4 months

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OKAY SO I OFFICIALLY FINISHED CH SEASON 3

Spoilers obviously

Okay good, Marry WAS written to be the way I thought she was(kinda but I was right).

I’m sad that Cloney Island was only one episode. Would’ve been nice to have a 2 part season finale, especially with the abrupt way Cleo and Frida were pushed back together— realistic for teenagers, especially a dramatized version of teenagers, but still would’ve been nice to see them fight a bit more, give sad longing glances over their shoulders after turning away, and then build that up to the climax of the episode where they make up in true sappy teen drama fashion that would be very in character for them both in the first place.

Aaaaaaaand Abe and Joan triangle once again but this time with Confucius! Wow! I am still not rooting for JoanAbe lmao, I think Joan and Confucius have way more chemistry than even Joanfk did. They seemed to have a lot of fun together.

Harriet and JFK… I still can’t see them working. I’m sorry. My new impression of Harriet is she’s one of those jealous types. A home wrecker and a cheater even. She just assumed she and Confucius were back together without asking, telling me that she’s definitely a bit of a control freak or definitely very impulsive(ocd possibly? Someone with more knowledge do an analysis, my basic level knowledge isn’t enough or factually sound). I honestly used to adore Harriet’s character, her annoying personality was passable enough to grow on me. But now it’s just insufferable. I mean I still love her character, but not really in the I adore her way, just that I wanna continue to see her fuck things up and see how much drama she can cause. And how her and JFK’s relationship will be ruined because I genuinely want it to be ruined because there’s really no substance behind it, just raging teenage hormones and the threat of imminent death.

I do genuinely feel bad for Scudworth but I for the love fuck cannot remember his ex-lover’s name. But I do hope Scud gets to see her again and they can actually be together in peace. They seemed nice together! I thought it was really cute, Scud was actually getting a win this time.

Uh Topher— or should we call him Christopher now?— being proud of his Clone lineage because some guests liked him was actually amazing in that I want a list of those people to avoid them which could be easy because they most likely were some of the January 6th capital rioters, that’s the only conclusion I can come up with that summarizes my entire assumption about those, uh, “fans”. But I guess it’s good he’s accepting who he’s been cloned from? Question mark? I’m scared of the micro aggressions to come. Someone contact his therapist that may or may not be Scudworth in a wig in the first place, I’m a little scared.

If season 4 is greenlit, if not already that is, I hope Gandhi gets to come back. There were several good call backs to him, especially how Scudworth inexplicably had several of his belongings in his possession? Sir what the fuck.

AND MY GOD THE F-BOMBS WHERE SO OVER DONE BUT ABSOLUTELY NOT IN A BAD WAY. They were perfectly balanced in my opinion and combined with the delivery of each Fuck combined with each Shit and every other curse mentioned, it was perfect. Compare it to either H/zben H/tel + h/lluva b/ss or Rick and Morty and you’ve actually got a script that although littered with curses, doesn’t rely on those curses to make the show funny. The fact each profanity wasn’t always expected coupled with the delivery is what made it good AND natural, not forced. Scudworth’s FUCK in season 2 walked so everyone’s FUCK AND SHIT in season 3 could run like fr.

I’m sad Cleo’s back with her terrible foster mom. I don’t like Frida’s foster dad. Having a sweater with your daughter’s face on it is….. strange. Confucius’ are kind of as I expected, but tbh I still say they’re fostering him for the publicity and check. Skunky Poo’s return was disturbing which seemed to be on purpose. I think I saw Van Gogh with two dads in the background and I’m only saying this because tbh I think he deserves two moms instead lmao, give this boy his two moms.

Abe this season felt like an in between of season 1 and 2 but mostly still s2. But I did love his interactions with JFK and Confucius. Especially JFK. And how fucking casual JFK essentially came out as bisexual lmao. All in all, these two were fucking hilarious this season. But yeah uh Abe is a toxic asshole by the way but we all knew that and honestly that’s why I love him and if Joanabe really IS endgame, I can cope with the fact that these two are highly likely to marry after graduation and divorce several years later, they’re terrible for each other.

I think this season was a lot better, which makes sense with what seemed like was a bigger budget. The animation actually looked a little different, not bad different but good different, much smoother??? I may have to go back and rewatch season 2, but right off the bat s3 animation really felt different, it felt more alive in a way and I really loved it. I hope we get a season 4 fr. And I hope it’s the final season, I cannot see it getting a s5 UNLESS it’s a parody/joke to how most shows these days keep stacking on the seasons without any heartfelt material in it (*cough* supernatural and the simpsons and bobs burger *cough* *cough*)

#clone high #clone high season three #clone high spoilers #clone high s3

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volturiwolf · 2 years

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Supergirl - A Paul Lahote x fem!Reader Story

A request from @cokcola4112

As usual, there are foul and sexual language and scenes, so if you're a minor, go with your own risk.

And it's a long one.

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Tagging (from previous Paul story): @xxx-wounded-angel-xxx @chocolatechipcookiesandcamembert @florence-end @emmy1148 @ilove-bts @crazyacegirl @emerald-jade1 @lahoete @navs-bhat @aquanova99 @alecvolturiswifeforever

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Being close to the water felt like second nature to you, whether it was the sea, a lake, or a river - any type of water body filled you with peace and calmness. You didn’t know why you liked it so much. Was it the feeling of freedom? Of being able to lose yourself and forget about anything and everything around you? You didn’t exactly know why you were drawn to the water so much.

Thankfully, living on the west side of the Olympic peninsula meant you were lucky enough to be as close to the water as your little heart desired. From a young age, you remembered yourself taking up any water sport you could imagine, starting with swimming which was the easiest for you, to sailing, to canoeing, before you finally decided to stick to surfing.

Over the years, you had practically become a professional at it, taking part in many competitions around the States, and eventually, the world, though you never let the local La Push and Forks communities know - you didn’t want to brag about something you were good at, not that anyone would care anyway.

Your parents were supportive enough to encourage you to pursue your dream since it was probably the only thing that interested you. It wasn’t that you didn’t care about school or your friends or doing other things in general; it was that surfing was the only thing that brought you an absolute joy, and you all saw the potential for turning your love into something much more, hopefully becoming an actual professional and focusing on it exclusively.

However, you had a competitive advantage over the others who engaged in this sport that you hadn’t known until a few weeks after your 14th birthday. It was weird to even think about it then, but you learned you live with that. It was probably why you loved the water and everything that had to do with it so much.

Unbeknownst to you, you descended from mermaids through your mother’s lineage. You wouldn’t believe it, even after it happened to you. It was a full moon night and you went out with your family, a classic night out sitting on the beach and watching the stars above. It was a bit chilly outside, but the sea was still perfectly warm, so you decided to play with the water a bit, dipping your feet in.

What you would never expect was feeling an intense numbing feeling all over your feet before you looked down, only to see scales growing out of your once human feet, falling on your bum, and getting your now torn shorts wet. You were panicking; you didn’t know what was going on with you. You couldn’t scream; no noise came out of your mouth.

Your parents seemed way more calm, as if they expected it. Without causing a fuzz, your mother took a blanket and put it around you to cover you from anyone who may be looking around the empty beach, while your father grabbed a towel and swooped you up, trying to dry you before quickly walking towards the car and putting you in the vehicle. You saw your mother coming a few minutes later, having grabbed all your belongings.

You didn’t really remember how long it took you to go back home, how your father scooped you up and led you to your bedroom, or even how your parents tried to explain everything to you. You just remember them vaguely telling you your mother descended from mermaids and it was usually on a full moon night like this one that the first transformation would occur.

There wasn’t a specific time; it was supposed to be sometime during your adolescent years, but nothing was definite - the experience was unique to everyone. The only common element was coming in contact with water during a full moon. There was no cure for it, but there were ways to suppress the effects, like following a specific regime: stay away from water, but get a lot of hydration; avoid going out on a full moon night, in fear of the high air moisture around the town; planning your whole life around those nights, in order to avoid making plans on those nights.

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(Y/N)’s POV

After a point, my life felt too controlled by my parents - I knew they were looking out for me, but I didn’t ask for this life; I didn’t ask to have to hide; I didn’t ask to have to plan everything beforehand. I started losing contact with my friends, and eventually I lost them altogether, over not going out with them on full moon celebrations; not going to the beach with them at night - like we used to - in fear of triggering a transformation even on a regular night; not acting ‘like I used to’.

The only thing I had left to remind me of my life before was surfing. It was the one thing nobody could beat me at, and I was aware of my skills being better than those of the local boys and girls. Adding the mermaid factor, I was able to do amazing skills and tricks on my surfboard, like swimming under the waves for a long time, without needing to take a single breath.

An additional perk of being a mermaid was being able to breathe underwater even without transforming, which came pretty handy when I wanted to avoid several people while I was swimming. I would just dive into the water and stay there for enough time to make sure they were gone. I could breathe and see normally in the water, as if I wasn’t actually in the water, but out of it, like a normal person.

Growing up just outside of La Push, there was a specific group of guys who seemed to be involved in pretty much everything around the area, including the Quileute reservation, being Quileute themselves. Through the years, I had been watching them from afar, growing from ‘silly’ boys to seemingly more mature and serious adults in a few years’ time, as if they also had to grow up too fast.

They kind of reminded me of myself, growing up too fast; getting too serious too fast. I didn’t know why I felt a sort of connection with them, as if they, themselves, were hiding their own secrets. As the years went by, the small group of one became two, then three, then four, until, a few years later, there were 10 people. Some of them I recognized from the very beginning, being in my year at school, but, just like me, they would regularly skip school. My reasons were the competitions I had to go to, but I didn’t know what their reasons were.

The only person from the group that seemed to care a bit more than the others about school was a curly-haired boy named Quil Ateara. Then, it was Embry Call who was a decent student but too quiet for his own good. Then, Jacob Black and Jared Cameron seemed to be mostly indifferent about school. Finally, there was Paul Lahote who was an absolute hottie but could care less about school or his attitude towards the others for the matter.

Paul seemed to be the only one who did not care if he hurt others, either verbally or physically. He was the one to start fights at school, which usually ended up with him staying in detention or being forced to do community work on the weekends. I was getting bad vibes from him - or should I say I felt a dark, upsetting aura coming out from him - part of my mermaid nature, so I decided to stay away from him for my own good.

Spending time practicing with my surfboard was the one thing that cleared my mind and gave me control of my life. It was also the one thing that my parents could not prevent me from doing - it would be equivalent to imprisoning me because that would be what it would be like if they took surfing, my only love and passion, away from me.

Sometimes, it felt like I was filling up an emotional void inside of me with surfing. I would rather focus on training for long hours than have to deal with the real emptiness I sometimes felt of not having anyone to talk to about what was going on with me, besides my parents and sister. She, too, had to go through the very same thing, but she had me when she was going through that. She now had a boyfriend too, a soulmate if I might.

Weird thing was that mermaids had soulmates, like their other halves. My sister’s soulmate was a boy from Forks; my mother’s was my dad. They were both lucky in their lives - their partners were understanding. But the overwhelming love around me was choking me, and I’d rather stay away from home or my family for as long as I could.

It seemed selfish and absurd to be jealous of their happiness, but I was and nobody could tell me that feeling like that was not normal. Because I was the one left unhappy, sad, and alone, and I had every right to feel bad about myself until I could do anything to change that.

And until I did or until some miracle happened, I would spend more and more time at the Second Beach, which was not as famous as the First Beach, so there was still some peace and quiet around. When I wasn’t in the mood to surf, I would just lay down on my surfboard, which I would always bring with me, and take in the saltiness of the air around me. Days would pass by like this and it felt nice to not have to think or worry about anything.

Unfortunately for me, there was one specific day that started awfully. I didn’t know why, but I had this sort of weight in the pit of my stomach which filled me with unnecessary and unknown worry. Yet, I wouldn’t stop myself from heading down to the Second Beach. I needed the calmness and hidden wisdom the sea and that place held. I needed to get away from my own thoughts and worries, and, though I had to trust my gut, I preferred to trust my heart, and I quickly left the house.

I parked as close to the trail as I could, finding a few cars already parked there. Great! Exactly what I needed! I was hoping for some peace and quiet, and given that everyone mostly would go to the First Beach, I had taken that for granted. I took a deep breath and continued walking, hoping for the best.

I soon found out who were occupying the beach, before I even saw them - their voices were too loud to ignore. It was the same loud group at school, with the addition of Sam Uley and Leah Clearwater, who were older; Seth Clearwater, Leah’s younger brother, and two young teens, who I thought were called Brady Fuller and Collin Littlesea.

I watched them play a mix of soccer and martial arts as I made my way away from their noisy presence and the rack they caused, hoping to muffle their voices by sitting on the other side of the beach. However, as unfortunate as I was, the long distance between us was still not enough to cover Paul’s yelling at the others to “pass him the ball, or he’d showed them what he’s made from”.

All that to me sounded like empty threats. He may have been muscular and “threatening”, but he wasn’t the only muscular or even the tallest person around his company. Sam was towering over everyone, and Jacob seemed to easily compete with Paul in muscle mass. Yet, Paul’s aggressivity and the way his muscles flexed with every move seemed to do things to me.

I quickly turned to look the other way, setting my bag and surfboard down, placing my towel over the surfboard, and laying on it quickly, before anyone from Paul’s company caught me staring at them. It wasn’t an exaggeration that they were eye candies, but Paul was literally a taffy: sticky, hard to chew, painful sometimes, but still the type of candy I would go after for its buttery and sweet taste, and the way it melted in my mouth.

What’s wrong with you, (Y/N)? Since when did you get so horny for Paul Lahote? It was true that I wouldn’t pay attention to Paul as we were growing up - he was a regular kid, caring more about having fun than developing mentally, emotionally, and academically. But when he hit puberty, everything changed in Paul, physically speaking.

He started getting more muscles and working out more, but it was only a year ago that he somehow became twice as buff as he used to be. Same with the others. Even Leah’s body was toned, full of muscles, tight breasts, and butt. I didn’t know what they took or what they did, but it was clearly working and I wanted them to give me some of that too.

Ever since my transformation, my skin was more sensitive and dry. It needed constant hydration and moisturizing, and that's when I found out body creams, body lotions, and body butters are expensive. I wished I had those guys' glow up instead of what I got.

I was lost in thought, too focused on my own issues to see the ball hitting me straight on my face. The pain was sharp and scared me before the stink came.

"Fuck! What the fuck?!" I jolted up as if an electric current passed through me. I was angry. I was pissed. Being a loud ass was one thing, but throwing balls on other people's faces had me ready to fight with these guys, even if I was destined to lose.

"Hey, didn't see you there." Paul grinned, leaned down to grab the ball, and started running back to his friends.

"Are you serious? Are you serious right now? You're not even gonna apologize?" I was furious at this guy's indifference and rudeness.

"I wasn't even the one who threw that ball. Besides, we were here first." He started being cocky, and that didn't come through me.

"Oh, yeah. Did you rent the place? Did you actually buy it? This is a public beach. Being careless is one thing, easy to forgive. Being rude, though, is something you cannot change if that's just who you are."

"Is this what you think, huh? You come to my territory to show off and offend me in front of my friends?" Paul was merely a few inches away from me, looking threatening and trying to intimidate me. His friends came running closer to us.

"In case you haven't noticed, this is not your territory. I'm from La Push, too, Paul Lahote. You would have known if you weren't a stuck-up bitch."

Paul moved closer to me, growling like an animal, a wild dog. Sam's face became a bit pale as he pushed himself toward, between Paul and me. "Paul, stop. Now. That's enough. You should have just apologized."

"I wasn't the one who threw the ball!" Paul spat the words on Sam's face.

"That's not important." He turned around to look at me. "I'm truly sorry for his behavior, he's not always like that."

"Yeah, he is." Embry and I whispered at the same time, looking at each other funnily.

"You know what, princess?" Paul continued. "You want me, you want us to leave you alone? How about a bet?"

"Paul!" Sam growled at Paul.

"What kind of bet?" I continued unbothered.

Paul smirked with overflowing confidence, looking back at my unattended surfboard. "I see you have a surfboard. How about a race? If you win, we will leave you alone and not bother you. We will actually leave the beach." He paused.

"What if you win?"

He smirked evilly this time. "If I win, you will leave us alone. You will leave this beach and you'll never come back. You will be banned from ever coming here, for as long as you live."

"Are you sure you want us to compete on the surfboard?" I asked him cockily.

"I'm sure, princess. What? Are you scared?" He laughed.

"No, I'm not. You're in. If you lose, I don't want to see you around here, ever again."

"We'll see about that." Paul turned around, running towards his friends, to get prepared for this race.

I was always prepared for surfboarding, whether I actually did it or not. I quickly changed into the wetsuit that I kept in my bag, before waxing and preparing my surfboard as I usually would - just because it wasn’t a professional race, it didn’t mean it wasn’t a race at all.

I was confident in my skills, maybe too confident. I wasn’t gonna lose this race, even if I did it on purpose. I loved that beach. It was quiet, and it had the best currents in the Olympic Peninsula, making it a perfect spot for practicing and racing.

No, I wasn’t gonna lose from Paul Lahote. It didn’t matter that he was hot, or that seeing him with his tight wetsuit made my heart race. The way he walked confidently toward me, or how his eyes only made me weak on my knees. I turned around to look at the sea horizon. I was professional, too professional to fall into his schemes.

“Are you ready, princess?” He asked, smirking cockily.

“Ready as you are, puppy.” I talked back with the same confidence as him, only this time Paul growled again.

I ignored him and got into the water. He started walking beside me until we reached a point where it was deep, but not deep enough. I got into my surfboard and started paddling my hands in the water to go farther. Paul followed suit. When I thought it would be deep enough, I stopped and turned around to see Paul.

“We’re good here. There should be a big wave coming. Are you ready?”

“I am. Are you? Ready to lose, I mean.”

I rolled my eyes at him. Why was he so annoying? It must have been his main and only talent.

A few minutes passed until I finally saw what I wished for: a pretty good wave, at least 10 feet tall, the unthinkable for a beginner but good enough for a pro. I looked at Paul to see his confidence shattering a bit. The wave was coming closer and got steadily taller bit by bit.

“Are you ready, Lahote? 3, 2,..”

“1!” He practically jumped forward, while I moved smoothly, swimming all the way from the base of the wave and up to its swirl.

Paul was shaking a bit but was holding a steady balance on his surfboard, making him go forwards smoothly. I was proud of him; many wouldn’t have even dared to ride such a wave or even compete with me. If he only knew, he probably wouldn’t have challenged me in the first place. But, here we were and I still had to win.

Minutes went by smoothly, and Paul started getting more and more confident on the board. He was riding the wave with more expertise than I had ever seen in someone who wasn’t doing it for free. It helped that the muscles on his legs were big and tight enough to help him keep his balance.

I was keeping a steady rhythm in my movement, nothing too informal or too professional; I wanted to maintain my durability steady, so I could last much longer than Paul. In contrast to what Paul was trying to pull off in the last few minutes, I was trying to act as neutral as possible.

Paul, on the other hand, started trying to pull off some serious tricks, wanting to show off. In the untrained eyes, he would have seemed decent, but I could tell his balance was off and his technique was lacking. Yet, he didn’t seem to faze one bit, looking cocky, and trying to brag. I was getting tired of his nonsense.

I leaned down a bit to lower my balance center and turned the surfboard around, so I could go against the wave. I expertly showed little Paul Lahote how a surfer actually surfed, swirling around the wave without falling off their surfboard. I swirled around him and managed to pass by him, as I felt him fuming with anger.

However, instead of giving up, Paul tried - pretty unsuccessfully - to do the exact same thing that took me a lot of time to master. He started wobbling, clearly losing balance, before he finally fell off of the surfboard, getting hit by the wave. I looked at him, smirking, as he finally lost a race he never thought he would. I would have continued laughing at him if I didn’t start getting worried.

Paul hadn’t resurfaced just yet. I couldn’t really see him, as I was still riding the wave. I turned my surfboard around, trying to get as close to the spot he fell but I couldn’t see him. Fuck! Fuck it! I quickly took my leash off my leg, before pushing my surfboard behind me and jumping into the water.

I started swimming like crazy, looking around for Paul, although the waves on the surface stirred the water and made it cloudy and muddy. I dived deeper, looking again. I then saw him, one foot trapped under a boulder, as Paul seemed unconscious. I started swimming towards him, but the strong tide led me away from him.

I took my bikini bottom off and pushed myself and whatever power I had in me to make me transform. I hadn’t tried that before, although I knew we could also transform at will. I tried to manifest a tail as hard as I could. I would have given up but, just in time, I felt the familiar numbing and stink, and I looked down to see my legs turning into the purple scaly tail I grew to love.

My tail was strong and it helped me get to Paul quickly. Moving the boulder was a bit difficult but somehow I managed to push it away just enough to free Paul’s leg. I quickly grabbed him and swam towards the shore. I was scared I would get noticed by the others, but, thankfully, I managed to change back and get dressed just in time before Paul’s friends came running toward us.

Sam took Paul off of my hands, as Jared and Embry helped him get them both out of the water. Leah came by my side, looking upset and worried for me, and I let her help me get out. Getting out of the water, I saw Paul was laying on the beach, still unconscious, as Sam tried to revive him. I felt something in me break.

I walked towards them, leaning down and sitting on my knees beside Paul. He was paler than ever before, and Sam was still trying to perform CPR on him, panting and worried, but trying to look put together in front of the others.

I turned to look at him. “Can I try? Please?”

He looked at me confused but nodded his head as he let go of Paul. I quickly unzipped Paul’s wetsuit, trying to get it off of him, as Sam helped me lift Paul a bit off of the sand. When the top part was off, I started performing CPR, pressing my hands against Paul’s warm chest in rhythm. Though I wished I could take a few moments to admire his overall appearance, I knew that was not the time for that.

It took me a couple of minutes of pressing and a few blows in his mouth, but Paul finally spat out the water and took a deep breath in. He was finally breathing, although quickly, to catch his breath. The blood was slowly coming back to his face, and he seemed he was getting healthier by the second.

“You better take him to the hospital. They need to check him properly.” I told Sam who thanked me, and carefully helped Paul get up.

I saw Quil, Seth, Jacob, Leah, and Embry gather up all of their things, as Sam and Jared supported Paul and led him towards the parking lot. As I was walking away, I caught Paul looking at me, still walking away, and I couldn’t stop thinking if or when he’d be better.

★→♥←★→♥←★→♥←★→♥←★→♥←★→♥←

My parents were quite upset with me. Instead of just accepting the fact that I managed to help and save someone, they worried more about the fact that I came really close to revealing my secret to outsiders. I was worried, too, but what mattered was that Paul was saved. Even if I somehow managed to reveal my secret by accident, I’d think of something to explain to the others - I hadn’t thought of something specific, but I’d find something.

Instead of accepting it, they decided to ground me until they decided I wasn’t grounded anymore. That meant that I wouldn’t be able to step outside of the house at all, as they had also decided to have me homeschooled with private tutors. They thought that the more time I spent outside of the house, the higher the chances of me not controlling my transformation or powers.

It wasn’t that I was throwing flame balls out of my hands or that I was setting random things on fire; my main power was telekinesis and I still hadn’t mastered it enough to attempt to perform anything in public. Still, my parents were adamant: I wasn’t to leave the house until I proved that I was in control, and only if I promised I would never transform while humans were present.

It was totally unfair. It was the only thing I could do at the moment. I couldn’t let Paul die, especially since I felt a spark inside me when he turned to look at me as they took him away from the beach. I didn't know if it was a spark at all, but it felt nice and somehow reassuring as if I knew that he was alright and he would be back on his feet in no time.

For some reason, ever since that moment, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I couldn’t stop dreaming about him. I couldn’t eat; I couldn’t study; he was the only thing I cared about. Not knowing if he was actually okay or not was killing me. I tried to find his phone number but there was no one I could refer to for help. And as long as I was trapped in my own house, there wasn’t much I could do.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Paul’s POV

It must have been about a week or two ever since I imprinted on (Y/N). I didn’t really count or care about time. The ache I had been feeling all over my body and mind all this time were clear indications of what happened. But though I knew deep down in me that I had imprinted on her, the images I saw in the vision I had, made no sense whatsoever.

Unlike the “usual” images others around the pack had seen about their imprints, I actually saw (Y/N) letting go of my hands and walking away from me. She was perplexed, anxious, and constantly looking at the full moon all this time. Then, suddenly, she started running towards the beach, before jumping into the water, and that was when the vision ended.

It was as if my subconscious was trying to tell me something, but, at the same time, I had to find the answers on my own. I had to ask her myself, and I had to tell her everything about me, the imprinting, and the wolves. She had every right to know now that she was part of the secret, whether she eventually wanted to be with me or not.

I was going to school every day for a week straight, hoping to bump into her by any chance. I remember we had a few classes together. I even convinced Jared, Embry, Jacob, and Quil to come with me - although it didn’t take a lot to convince Quil; he was always the more responsible guy when it came to school. I hoped at least one of us would bump into her during these past days.

The week went by painfully slow, and not one of us had seen (Y/N) around. It was as if she disappeared. I tried looking around La Push, asking every single person I saw around if they had seen her, but they would all look at me scared or weirded out - I was supposed to be in a gang after all. The ones who actually did not avoid answering would say they hadn’t really seen her around.

It was only after a few days that I finally found someone who may have known her at all. It was a classmate of ours, who was friends with (Y/N) many years ago. She told us that (Y/N) used to be a normal person, friendly, lovely, and the best person to hang out with. Then, one day, around 3 or 4 years ago, everything changed.

She suddenly became too self-aware and closed to herself. She stopped hanging out with all of her friends, and she preferred spending time in the comfort of her own house. The only time others would see her was when they happened to bump into her on their way to the beach, where she would always surf.

I didn’t know she knew how to surf; then again, I didn’t actually know anything about her. But then I remembered how expertly she surfed and beat me at it, so she must have been training for years. Besides that, I had to get to know her myself. I couldn’t completely rely on what her friend said; people change, though I had no doubt that (Y/N) was a lovely person. Imprints are supposed to be the better versions of us, the ones who complete us, and make us better people, right?

Yet, I didn't know how to approach her. Even when her friend gave me her address, I was too worried and scared to talk to her. I was told her parents were too strict, which was why she had been in and out of getting homeschooled ever since she was 14 years old. After that, she was mainly seen out at the beach, surfing. Other than that, nobody knew what she was up to or how she was, having cut any and all communication with her old life.

I decided the only way I could approach her was the good old ‘throwing rocks at the window’. There was the risk of getting caught by her parents or the neighbors, but I didn’t care; I had no other way to approach her. I did find the house pretty easily, as it was slightly secluded from the others around the area. I tried to sniff and hear my way around her house, afraid that I would end up knocking at the wrong window.

Going around and around, I finally located her room when a strong, flowery but also salty smell hit my nostrils. It smelled like salty sea water, and it held a coolness and freshness to it. I never particularly liked the sea - I mean, it was cool and all, especially on a hot day, but, ever since my transformation, I became one with the woods, the forests, and the flora around.

I took a deep breath to calm myself and threw the first pebble I had on me. A few seconds later, I threw the second, and after a few seconds the third, and so on, hoping (Y/N) would get my message and come to the window. I waited a few minutes, and nothing happened, as if she didn’t listen to me or ignored me. I sighed, disappointed and ready to leave.

I turned around and walked a few feet before I heard the front door open. I turned around to look at (Y/N), wearing a short night dress and a robe, and her scent hit me more powerful than ever. It calmed and excited me at the same time. She walked toward me, before stopping a few feet away from me. She looked more beautiful than ever.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “What are you doing here, Paul? It’s nearly midnight. You shouldn’t be out here.” Her tone was critical but also concerned.

“I came here looking for you. I needed to talk to you. I haven’t seen you since the day we raced at the beach.” I looked at her apologetically.

She seemed kind of defensive all of a sudden. “Look, Paul, if it’s about the beach, you can come whenever. I shouldn’t have betted with you. It’s not my beach or your beach, it’s for everyone. So, the bet is no more. And I’m sorry for wasting your time, and I’m sorry for what happened to you. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” She was now remorseful as if everything that happened to me was her fault.

“You know you did nothing wrong. I went up against you. I proposed the bet. I tried to show off by surfing without caution or care and almost ended up drowning. The guys told me what happened. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be here by now. Thank you.” I couldn’t look her in the eyes, so I looked at the ground instead.

“Yeah, uhm, no problem. You’re welcome.” She replied awkwardly, not knowing what else to do.

“Can I…”, I gulped, “Can I hug you?” I lifted my head to now look at her perplexed face.

“Uhm, I guess, yeah, you can.”

We awkwardly opened our arms and took each other in our embrace. Her skin felt a bit dry, dehydrated, but still cool and cold, but not vampire-cold. I felt lost in her scent, trying to take in as much of the scent as I could, hoping to keep it engraved in my memory forever. We spent a few minutes like that, not saying a word, but it didn’t feel awkward; it felt necessary and essential for both of us.

We, unwillingly, let go of each other. (Y/N) was slightly smiling, and her eyes were glossy and almost sparkling. She took a hold of my hands and caressed them comfortingly.

“I’m gonna be honest. I’m glad you passed by. I was worried for you. I didn’t know how you were. I didn’t know who to ask.” There was something longing in her tone, and I hoped I was right about that.

“I’m doing well now, thanks to you. Look, (Y/N), I didn’t just come by because of that. I wanted, I needed to see you, to make sure you were doing okay. I got worried when I didn’t see you around. I needed to see you.” I took her face in my palms, letting all my emotions slowly flood out of me in an unprecedented confession.

She smiled understandingly. “I needed to see you, too. Talk to you, see how you were.” She placed her hands on mine, her eyes piercing holes into mine.

“Can…Can I see you again?” My voice was trembling, scared of her rejecting me.

“Of course, you can. I want to see you, too. Can you come by tomorrow night?” She looked at me blissfully, as her whole face suddenly lit up with immense joy.

“You got it, princess.” I wanted to be respectful, so I kissed her forehead instead of her lips, though I wanted to kiss her so badly. I slowly let my hands fall off of her face, and I took a few steps back, as she kept looking into my eyes.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” She whispered, and my heart skipped a bit at the sensation her voice caused to my ears.

I only smiled at her before I started running away towards the woods, having found immense happiness in that small moment of perfection with my imprint.

★→♥←★→♥←★→♥←★→♥←★→♥←★→♥←

We spent the next few nights with me coming by her window, her sneaking out, and going out together. It was quiet at that time of the night, and we could go for walks around La Push, have a midnight picnic, or lay on the beach watching the starry sky above us.

Everything felt so natural, so effortless, so right with her. None of us had to pretend; we would say what we felt at the moment, even if it was the craziest thing ever, like how the severed head of a sea slug can grow its own body, or that human skin can actually glow but that light cannot be seen by the regular human eye. That one made me laugh hard, ‘cause I only thought of vampires glowing up until now, and I used to call them “standing disco balls” because of that.

I wished I had more time with her; I wished we could spend our days together, not just our nights; I wished we didn’t have to hide from her parents or others around. Of course, the pack knew what was going on - I didn’t have to tell them; (Y/N) was the only thing I could think about during our patrols.

I now knew I had to tell her everything, to let her in on our secret. I had to tell her about the imprinting, the legends, the wolves. The only thing that concerned me was how would I tell her she was the love of my life.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

(Y/N)’s POV

I was so happy for these little "sneaking outs" with Paul. It felt surreal in my head because he used to be the dream I couldn't catch; the one I desired. Then everything in life changed and I didn't just lose my friends, but also the chance to watch Paul every day, even if that was from afar.

And now, now I found myself laying on the beach, with Paul less than five inches away from me. I would have never imagined that. He emitted such warmth, but the kind of warmth that could capture your whole being and keep you there, wishing for more.

Surprisingly, Paul's aura had changed drastically from the day I saw him at the beach. The otherwise grumpy, negative, pessimistic Paul was now shining bright, exhuming so much happiness and calmness that seemed to be contagious. He changed completely within such a short time, and I was happy that he was happy.

There was a mystery wandering in the air from his side, but he wasn't the only one, for sure. Though there were some clear signs that he felt things for me, I couldn't exactly be sure of what he felt, and I didn't want to open up just yet, for fear of being misunderstood or hunted down.

I wanted to let him in on my secret of being able to transform into a mermaid, but I didn't know how he would react. On top of that, I didn't know how he would feel if I told him that, on that day at the beach, something sparked in me - a spark I was warned about by my parents.

That spark was the way for our people to know when they had found their soulmate, and on that day, I found mine on Paul Lahote. 'Soulmate' was a strong word, and I was scared of the weight and the responsibility it held towards the other person. Paul may have been the most volatile person in terms of temperament, but his recent actions said otherwise, and I relied on that change of character for the big reveal.

So, I kept pushing back the reveal, until I was completely sure that Paul was feeling the same way about me - not necessarily feeling like I was his ‘soulmate’, but still having strong feelings of love, appreciation, and understanding for me. I was happy to live in that small bubble of happiness and excitement, and I didn’t want this to end ignominiously, where Paul would know my secret, but wouldn’t feel comfortable with that, so he’d give up on us, possibly risking him telling someone else about my identity.

That was why I tried to have as much fun as I could now, without commitments or risking everything. Paul and I were having a good time together, and that was all that mattered. Of course, I hadn’t told my parents; they would freak out even with the idea of me sneaking out for a boy, even without risking revealing my identity.

“Boys are trouble, and you don’t need that trouble in your life”, my mom would always say. She was right in a way, but Paul wasn’t just any boy. Paul was my soulmate, and if my parents knew that, they would be more at ease, and would probably stop nagging and suffocating me as much as they did. Or they could very likely become even more overprotective and try to “preserve” my “pureness” until I was an adult; I really didn’t know - it could go either way with them.

Yet, the thought of my parents catching me sneaking out did not even stay for a second in my mind. I wouldn’t ruin Paul’s and my little dates with worries about “what would happen” and “what if”. I was careful not to reveal too much, and I was good at controlling myself and my transformation. I had spent too much time worrying and training, training and worrying. Now, I would enjoy my life with Paul.

Tonight, it was a full moon night. The only thing that made me uncomfortable and worried was the full moon. It was the only thing that controlled us, and, though I had tried to fight the inner urge of the mermaid blood that ran through my veins, it was still difficult and almost impossible when the full moon was out. But I had promised Paul I would go out with him tonight - he wanted to tell me something important, and I was too anxious and curious about that to check my calendar beforehand.

So, here we were, on our way to the Second Beach, where it all began. I had to wear long-sleeved, baggy clothes to avoid the humidity, and I was already suffering in them. We didn’t usually have warm nights in La Push, but today had to be one. Either that or I was too nervous and couldn’t stop sweating through the thick fabrics.

“Hey!” Paul took my hand in his. “Are you okay? You seem nervous. Tell me, is there something wrong? We can go if you don’t like it here.”

“Uhm, yeah, no. There’s nothing wrong. It’s just a bit humid, that’s all.” I played it down casually, trying to not worry him any more than he already was.

“Oh, okay, because I really needed to talk to you.” It was his turn now to be nervous.

“Is there something wrong?”

“No, I just needed to talk to you, especially tonight that it’s the full moon.”

I goggled my eyes at the keyword “full moon”. He knows! He must know! Why would he bring me here on the ‘full moon’ if he didn’t?

“(Y/N), are you sure you’re okay? We can go anytime. We don’t have to stay here.”

“No, no, I like it here with you. I just remembered something that happened with my parents today, like a cringe memory. Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh, okay. Let’s take a seat then.” Paul quickly spread the wool blanket he had brought with him to not get sand all over our clothes, like the gentleman he was.

I sat down but I kept a small distance from him, feeling the guilt eating my insides. If he knew the truth about me, he was decent enough to not make a fuss about it just yet. But I had to tell him myself, because others tend to stretch out rumors too much, to the point where nothing is true. Paul was the victim of a rumor too, as everyone believed he was a gang member - at one point, I thought the same thing, until I got to know him and every doubt or negative thought vanished instantly.

“Paul, I… I have to tell you something. Something important.” I wanted to reach out to him so badly, but I forced myself not to. I had to collect myself and my thoughts; touching Paul, even if it was just his hand, would make my heart race again, and I had to stay calm.

Before I could continue, Paul interrupted me. “Please, (Y/N), let me tell you something first. It’s really important for me to tell you, so you don’t hear from others.”

“Others? What do you mean ‘others’? Who else knows about that?”

“Well, my friends actually. They know what I’m about to tell you. It actually affects all of us.” For someone who was confident in himself, Paul looked really shy and hesitant to even look at me in the eyes.

“Ho-How does it affect your friends?” I was suddenly too worried. What did he hear? Who told him all that?

“Well, you see, my friends and I are the “lucky” few to have a gene that causes this to us.” Wait. What is he talking about? “So, Sam, Jared, Embry, Jacob, Quil, Leah, Seth, and I have it. Even kids younger than us have it, and we suspect that others have it too.”

“Wait! What are you talking about? What gene? And what does it do to you?” This time I was worried about him, not me, not me at all. Whatever he was talking about, must have been too serious for him to get this nervous around me.

“Uhm, as I told you, I am one of the “lucky” few to have a specific gene. A gene that has passed to me through generations of Quileutes.” Paul closed his eyes and took a big breath before continuing. “I can transform into a wolf, (Y/N).”

I felt my face numbing. “What?”

“Have you ever heard of the Quileute legends?”

“Well, barely. I wouldn’t say I know…too much, but I had heard a few things, here and there.”

“Well, one of our legends is how our ancestors would transform into wolves to protect our land and people. And that part of the ancestors that made them shift into wolves has been passed on from generation to generation. Many generations before me had not manifested the effects of that gene, meaning they hadn’t been able to transform. My generation managed to manifest that gene.”

“What caused it?” I was now more curious than ever. I was not faithless or did not believe anything he said; if I could turn into a mermaid, why couldn’t he transform into a wolf?

He looked down, contemplating if he should tell me or not. “I don’t think you’re gonna believe me.”

“Try me.”

He now looked me in the eyes. “Vampires.”

Ha, I didn’t know there were vampires around the area. “Oh, okay. I would have not imagined there would be vampires around. Well, it does make sense, kinda? I mean, every story, film, and TV series has vampires and werewolves being mortal enemies, right? Though I would think that you would transform by now? Don’t you transform under the full moon?”

Paul was in shock, probably not expecting a neutral reaction out of me. “Uhm, well, we’re not that kind of werewolves, if that’s what you mean. The full moon does somehow affect our mood and feelings, but we can pretty much transform at any time we want, and sometimes, even when we don’t want to.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Our transformation is mainly triggered by anger, but anything that can pump up our heart and body temperature, even a sudden fear, can make us shift. That’s how I first shifted. I had a fever for days. One day, I was so angry at my father that I stormed out of the house toward the woods. After that, everything was a blur. When I finally shifted back, I saw it was Sam, Billy, and my father the ones who found me. They told me my father felt me shifting and got worried, so he contacted Billy and Sam to help him out. They found me in my wolf form and they had been trying to help me shift back for hours before I finally managed to shift back.”

“Was it painful? I mean, shifting into a wolf and back?” My voice cracked a bit, and Paul felt the slight pain in my voice as he moved closer to me and took my hand in his.

“I don’t know how to describe it to you, but it’s mostly the sudden burn you feel all over your body as the anger and wolf consume you. Then, it feels like your bones are breaking, expanding, and reforming differently and bigger this time, and vice versa when you shift back into a human. It feels weird to live in another body, especially one that is huge, furry, and animalistic. It was bizarre at first, and it took me a few months to get used to it. I had to learn fast and become efficient because there was a vampire lurking nearby; a vampire who drank human blood.”

“Don’t all vampires drink human blood?”

“Well, I wouldn’t normally reveal that, but, since you’re part of this world now, I’ll tell you. You know Dr. Cullen, his wife, and “children”?”

I raised one eyebrow in doubt. “Yes?”

“Well, they are vampires but they only drink animal blood.”

I took a few seconds to process that new info, but my only question was “Why?”

Paul laughed at my unlike query. “Something about their ethics, their soul, or something. I don’t know what to tell you. I never really liked them. Well, I do like Emmett. He’s like my vamp bro now. And they helped us with the vampire and the other vampires she created, so I guess they’re okay.”

I didn’t need to ask about the other vampires now. I was part of the supernatural, but I wasn’t aware of a big part of it, but I guessed Paul would help me out if I ever had another question about everything.

“Can I ask you why did you tell me all that? I won’t lie, I feel a connection between us but I think what you told me is too important to share with anyone. So, what I’m asking is why me.”

“Believe it or not, that’s the hardest part for me to say. Uhm, so, werewolves have something called “imprinting”. It’s the process through which we find our partners. It’s more of a soulmate thing where we connect with someone emotionally, physically, mentally. That person becomes the center of our new world, and it’s our responsibility to ensure their safety and happiness. That person becomes an “imprint”, and the relationship developed between the wolf and the imprint can be romantic, friendly, or parental. Imprints are what keep us grounded and in connection to reality; they are someone to look for, to hope for when we are mostly stuck into our wolf skin. They say that the imprints are the ones who match a wolf the best, to produce the best offspring. Billy says the imprints provide some of their power to the wolf, through the connection they have; probably the power that’s created through their love for each other? I think the imprints are the ones who best fill the void we have in our hearts; our better halves; the ones who match your whole being; the ones you can connect to.”

“Can I ask you something? And I hope you don’t make fun of me.”

“I could never.”

“From what you told me, can I assume that I’m your imprint?”

Paul smiled, and answered with a simple “Yes”.

I smiled back at him. “Good.” I finally leaned in and kissed him on the lips.

I would lie if I didn’t say my heart felt like it was exploding. My whole body was tingling, and I felt as if I was in a state of euphoria and ecstasy when he kissed me back. He captured my face between his palms, and I slid one hand through his hair as the other one was massaging the back of his neck. My body was numb and I could just stay here forever; I wanted to stay here forever. Unfortunately, I couldn’t hold my breath for too long on land, so I slowly backed off, with my mind still hazy and dizzy from Paul’s kiss.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything for you, love.”

“Can you show me? How you look like in your wolf form?”

Paul became upset too suddenly. “No! (Y/N), no! I’m scared I’ll hurt you. I tried to control the wolf in me these past days, but the full moon is when the wolf controls me. I had been struggling to keep him tame all this time. I don’t know what will happen if I change now. Especially due to you being here. I don’t know how the wolf will react to your presence.”

“Paul, I don’t want to push you to do anything, but I really want to see you. All of you. Please?” I was curious but also anxiously eager to see what he looked like when he was in his wolf form.

Paul sighed deeply. “I’ll try. For you.”

“Thank you.” I mumbled as I watched him remove his pants and place them carefully on the blanket.

He walked away, and for a moment I thought he was leaving. “I just need to keep a safe distance between us.”

I nodded and watched him as he took a deep breath once again. This time, he started trembling and I saw some smoke coming out of his body, as Paul started to growl. Within a few seconds, a wolf jumped out of Paul’s body. The wolf had the most lustrous silver-gray fur I had ever seen, and his silver eyes were shining under the moonlight.

I took a few steps forward, trying to get as close to the wolf as I could. The wolf was wavering between coming closer to me, or backing off and keeping its distance from me. Finally, Paul’s side prevailed and the wolf moved away from me.

“Hey, Paul. Don’t worry. I’m doing okay. I want to feel you. I just want to feel you.”

The wolf took a few unsure steps towards me, his head down, like a giant puppy who feels guilty about breaking his favorite toy. Once he was only a few inches away from me, I was able to slowly caress his muzzle, gliding my hand towards his forehead, neck, and side. I felt so secure and calm with him that I couldn’t help myself from burying my face into Paul’s soft fur and inhaling his scent. Even in his wolf form, Paul smelled the same as his human form: woody, earthy, salty, and homey. Whatever ‘home’ smelled like, that was how Paul smelled.

The wolf huffed but it was a sweet huff, turning around to touch my head with his face, gently rubbing his nose on my cheek. It was clear that Paul was in control of his wolf, and not the other way around, as he feared. The wolf was calm, obedient, and quiet, showing true, human emotions towards me. He kneeled down to lay on his tummy with me still attached to his side and back. We stayed like that for some time, feeling the absolute silence and calmness around embracing us.

“Thank you for telling me everything. It means the world to me.” The wolf tilted his head and huffed again in satisfaction. “I would like to show you something if you are okay with it, and you would like to turn back.”

The wolf slowly started standing up, so I stood up to take my weight off of him and give him space. He walked towards the woods and a minute later, a naked Paul emerged, trying to hide his privates with his hands. He awkwardly walked towards the blanket, turning around so I could only see his ass, and quickly put his pants back on.

He turned around to face him, but my eyes were stuck in his ass. “Eyes up here, (Y/N).” He smirked playfully.

“I guess it’s my turn now.” I simply stated before I started stripping off of my baggy pants and sweater.

Paul was shocked to watch me strip, but then calmed down when he saw the tight shorts and crop top underneath. I started taking these off as well, to reveal my black bra and red panties underneath, and I swore Paul’s eyes almost dropped out of his eye sockets.

“Uhm, (Y/N), what are you doing? Not that I’m complaining, but what exactly do you want to show me?”

I ignored his question for now, continuing with my own action plan. “Is that the only pair of pants you have?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Well, unless you want to get them wet, I suggest you take them off. If you want to keep them, you can wear my pants after.”

Paul raised one eyebrow at me. “What do you have in mind?”

“I was thinking of a night swim if you don’t mind. If you take your clothes off, I’ll take mine off, too, so we’re even.” I casually replied.

I could clearly see Paul blushing under his tan skin and freezing on the spot. “Oh, okay.”

He didn’t move, still frozen and unsure of what to do, so I took the initiative to take my underwear off first. I first unclasped my bra, and my boobs were finally free. I turned to look at Paul who was still frozen, only this time, his jaw had dropped to the floor when he saw me. I laughed and went to take my panties off, and I saw Paul stiffing and trying to look either anywhere else but my body.

“I’m going in. I’ll be waiting.” I smirked at him, and slowly went into the water.

It was warm, though dark and scary to a human’s eyes. To my eyes, it was peaceful and beautiful, and it felt and smelled like freedom and home. I took a small breath before diving into the water. I moved my hands and legs around, feeling one with the sea. Thankfully, I could breathe underwater without having to transform, so I stayed underwater, waiting for Paul to come in.

I saw Paul running in the sea, trying to swim around and find me but couldn’t. I laughed to myself and sneaked closer, still underwater. I waited for him to run a bit deeper into the water, and when he did, I sneaked behind him and tickled his calves. I heard Paul let out a high-pitched scream, before turning to look around, just as I slowly emerged out of the water.

“What the fuck, (Y/N)?! You scared the hell out of me! I’ll get you.” He yelled and came running towards me, as fast as the water’s resistance allowed him.

I stood still, waiting for him to catch me, not trying to get away. Paul stopped right in front of me, waiting for me to react. Instead of swimming away, I moved closer to him and placed a light kiss on his lips. It only lasted a few seconds, but, when I moved away, Paul looked starstruck.

“You told me and showed me you could transform into a wolf, right?” Paul simply nodded, unable to say something else. “Well, I wanted to show you something, too. You’re not the only supernatural around.”

I dove back into the water, leaving Paul staring down at me. I took a breath and focused on my legs, manifesting my beautiful tail in my mind. Within a few seconds, I felt the numbness and the stink and my tail started moving around in the water. I smiled.

I came out of the water, trying to balance on my fins. Paul looked clueless, probably wondering what was happening and what I wanted to show him. I came as close to him as I could. I carefully took his hand in mine.

“Can I show you?” I asked him, and he nodded his head, whispering a quiet “Yes”.

I took his hand and slowly led them under the water toward where my private parts would have been. Paul tried to take his hand away, looking at me doubtfully. I only asked him to “Trust me, please”, and he relaxed his resistance and let me guide his hand around.

I moved Paul’s hand to touch my scales. He lifted his eyes to look into my eyes, still full of questioning and doubt. I slowly moved his hand downwards, so he could feel my scales’ smoothness and shininess, and how slippery and rough they could feel. I let go of his hand, allowing him to touch me on his own if he wanted.

Paul used his other hand as well, slowly touching and feeling around my body, scales, and tummy. He was respectful enough to not touch above my stomach, though I had no issue with him doing so. His face was now full of curiosity as he was feeling his way around my body, as his hands glided across my tail, making me numb and leaving a warm, new sensation behind.

He lifted his head up to look at me once again, with only one question in his mind and on his lips. “How?”

“Just like how you can transform into a wolf. I have inherited the ability to transform into a mermaid through my mother, and she inherited it from her mother. It’s not a gene per se; it’s half of my DNA, kinda like you with your father.”

Paul looked mesmerized. “Since when could you transform?”

“I changed once by accident, on the first full moon after my 14th birthday Thankfully, I was with my parents and they knew what to do and how to help me get through all this. I’ve been able to change ever since.”

Paul’s face lit up as if something just clicked on his mind. “Is this why you had to leave your friends? Was it because of your transformation?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I was alone in this, and I was scared. I didn’t know how they would react, so I never told them. I was also afraid of changing on accident once again. For you, it’s the anger that triggered your transformation. For me, it was water and humidity, before I learned, years later, how to control my transformation on my own, and not let water affect me.”

“Is that why you wore those baggy clothes? Because you were afraid of the humidity?”

“Yeah. It’s one thing that I can control myself, but with the full moon on full blast, I didn’t know if I could. Anything could trigger my transformation tonight. And I was scared you knew what I am before I could tell you. But when you said you were able to transform into a werewolf, I instantly calmed down and I was sure I could trust you with my secret. Also, the fact that you’re my soulmate helped me relax so much more.”

“I guess you could call it a ‘soulmate’. It definitely sounds better than ‘imprint’ and ‘imprintee’, for sure.”

“Well, you’re not the only ones driven to find your soulmates by fate.” I looked into his eyes, knowingly.

“Wait. We’re not? Did you… Did you “imprint” on me, too?”

“Well, we don’t actually call it “imprinting”. It’s more of a spark within us, like a fire of hope, absolute freedom, calmness, and love. At least, that’s what I felt when you turned around and looked at me when your friends took you away from here, back then, on that day.”

Paul looked sentimental like he had found new hope, taking my face between his hands. “That was when I imprinted on you. At that moment, when they took me away. I couldn’t believe I found my imprint, and I was scared of how I was going to approach you. When we imprint, we have a vision of our future with our imprint. I watched you walk away from me, on a full moon night like this one, and you jumped into the sea and swam away from me. I lost you, and I didn’t want to lose you. I never believed in fate or the imprinting before I found you, but I’m so glad you showed up in my life, and I promise to never let you go.”

“It doesn’t have to be like this. I don’t want to let you go either. And I promise I won’t go. I won’t leave, Paul Lahote. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Forever.”

“Forever.”

As the full moon shone above us, Paul and I moved closer to each other into a tight embrace, lips touching, hearts beating, his hot skin against my cold one, promising and wishing for an eternal life together.

#paul lahote #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote x reader #the twilight saga #twilight saga #twilight renessaince #twilight post

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