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makoodles · 1 year

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tìtunu | tsu'tey (part 3 | nsfw)

pairing: tsu'tey x human fem reader

word count: 12k words (oops)

warnings: alien courting rituals, misunderstandings, oral sex (fem receiving), size difference, p in v sex (get some, big boy!)

summary: Perhaps the Sky People had injured him beyond repair when they had hurt him and pushed him from their enormous metal bird.

That is the only reason he can think of to explain why the one person who has captured his thoughts so wholly is you, the little human demon that is constantly lurking around the Omaticaya camp.

(in which Tsu'tey doesn't consider the cultural differences when it comes to human x navi courting, but is very determined anyway)

read it on ao3

aaaaand i actually got the third part finished early, so i figured i'd just upload it! please peep the rating change (we're officially getting porn in this chapter lmao x).

also! i totally forgot that na'vi also need breathing masks in human spaces, so lets just pretend that their limit for human atmosphere's is WAY higher alright

part one | part two | part three (nsfw) | part four (nsfw) masterlist

You have no idea what’s going on with Tsu’tey, and it’s driving you crazy.

In the beginning, it was crystal clear what he thought of you. Your presence around the village was met with the same curled lips, narrow-eyes, and disdainful scowls that Tsu’tey reserved for all the humans occupying his home planet. You don’t take it personally; you’re only an interloper on Pandora, after all, and you have to work to gain his respect.

You’re not afraid to admit that you have a big fat crush on him. Who wouldn’t?

He’s one of the most beautiful people you’ve ever seen, alien or not. His face is just so pretty, with such big golden eyes and proud features. His wide, toned shoulders and slim narrow waist send your thoughts scattering to the wind when you’re around him. You’ve tried everything to try and capture his attention. You try makeup, you try wearing one of your silly little sundresses (one of the few luxuries you had brought to Pandora), you try flirty jokes. None of it seems to work.

You’re not sure when the dynamic between you really starts to change, but you certainly notice when it does. His stares began to turn less hostile, although no less intense, and some of his sharp edges had begun to soften. He doesn’t snap as often anymore, he doesn’t insult you all that much (nicknames notwithstanding), and he allows you to follow along beside him some days as he carries out his duties in the village. He remains as stoic and inexpressive as ever in your presence, but it’s thrilling for you that he doesn’t simply send you away when you try to spend time with him.

But the real catalyst seems to be the night he had tried to feed you with food cooked from the village’s own cook fire, and you had so rudely vomited it right back up. It was one of the most mortifying moments of your whole life, and you’re certain that he’ll never forgive you for it.

He ignores you for days afterwards, retreating into the village and refusing to come and see you even when you try to seek him out. It’s humiliating, but the cold shoulder doesn’t last for too long. However, what comes after that is even more confusing.

The man runs so hot and cold that dealing with him feels like suffering from constant whiplash. One minute he’s ignoring you, the next he’s seeking you out in the forest and sending away the other scientists just so he can make you watch him fish. Then he’s bringing you little gifts and you start to think that maybe, just maybe, he’s actually picked up on your crush on him.

Is it insane to wonder if perhaps he might actually return your interest? You’re desperate enough that you’d accept any sort of interest from him, even if it was just morbid curiosity. It probably doesn’t bode well for your self-respect, but you think that you’d be quite content to be the subject of his experimentation, if that’s what he wanted.

The necklace is what makes you really start to wonder what the fuck is going on.

It’s beautiful, Na’vi in make and design, and it fits you so perfectly that it’s like it’s been made especially for you. You fall in love with it the moment he presents it to you, unable to believe that something so lovely has been crafted with you in mind.

And then, after having been gifted with the jewelry, he lets you touch him more intimately than you’ve touched anyone since you came to Pandora. You can hardly believe your luck – he’s usually so harsh, so firm and unrelenting, that you thought he would crush you like a bug underfoot if you ever dared to touch him so familiarly. But he lets you, encourages you even.

You think you may have blacked out a little from the sheer thrill of touching his velvety blue skin, the firm definition of his pectorals, his narrow waist, and his soft, whip-like tail.

But you must have gone too far, because he had whipped away from you like you were diseased. He had practically fled from you, throwing some lame excuse about seeing you tomorrow as he ran.

It’s humiliating. If you had any sense, you would keep to yourself for a few days after you had groped him so boldly.

And yet, you find yourself wandering the forest just outside the Na’vi settlement the following day.

You’re close enough to the village that Tsu’tey could find you if he wanted, but you also have enough distance to preserve some of your dignity – you really don’t want him to think you’re stalking him. If anyone happens upon you, you can say that you’re gathering samples to study. That’s your job as a xenobotanist here, after all.

As you wander the area close to the village, you catch a glimpse of a group of bladder polyps that poke out of the dirt in regular intervals. Utterly captivated, you sink to your knees for a better look.

They look just like blue rocks, but you know that the Na’vi use them as a food source both for them and for their animals. They’re glowing a much brighter colour than the usual dull blue that you’ve reported on the little glowing plants before, and their bioluminescence is pulsing in slow, soothing intervals.

You are, after all, a professional, and your scientific curiosity outweighs your desire to wander until you ‘accidentally’ stumble across the large, handsome warrior you had become so enamoured with. You shuffle onto your belly, personal mission abandoned, and begin watching the behaviour of the plant life in wide-eyed awe.

Luckily you bring your field kit with you everywhere, and it’s with poorly disguised eagerness that you dig it out from where it’s clipped to the belt on your utility trousers. It’s difficult to get as close a look at the polyps as you’d like thanks to the damned breathing mask, but you’re still able to press your face right up to it as you begin tracing out a rudimentary field sketch.

You’ve never seen the bioluminescence act quite like this, pulsing in a regular sort of rhythm like rolling waves, and you jot down as many notes as you can in a messy, excitable scrawl. After just observing the soft pulsing phosphorescence for a little while, you manoeuvre yourself onto your belly and wrestle your tablet out of your rucksack. Laying flat like this isn’t the most ideal position for you to be in from a security standpoint, but it’s the only way that you can get the angle you want for the video that you want to take.

There’s no telling how long you had been laying there, watching the little plants pulsate with soft light. You think you might fall into some sort of daze, because you lose track of time as you fall into the familiar, comforting routine of documenting the flora’s behaviour. But your peace doesn’t last forever.

You’re not sure what it is that pulls your focus away from your work. It’s not like there’s any sudden noise or real change in your surroundings to catch your attention, but you feel the sudden and unavoidable weight of someone’s gaze resting on your back, and you yank your head up to try and find it, blinking.

For a moment, you wonder if you had imagined it. But then a figure moves in the trees to your left, and your heart lurches as your brain finally processes the appearance of the large, semi-camouflaged form of the Na’vi watching you.

“Tsu’tey!” You blurt, staring up at him with wide, startled eyes.

He’s looking down at you with an odd sort of look on his face, his head tilted to the side as he watches you. He doesn’t look all too impressed to see you laying out on the ground on your belly.

“What are you doing down there, Säsrätx?” He asks, one of his ears twitching.

Säsrätx. It’s one of his many nicknames for you – it means annoyance. It lacks the bite that it used to have. Now, he sounds almost fond. Or maybe that’s just your hopeless optimism hearing things.

When you don’t immediately explain, he frowns. “You will get yourself killed, alone in the forest like this.”

That rankles a little. You’re aware that you don’t look like much now, considering that you’re just over half his height and covered in mud from laying on the ground, but you’re capable of handling yourself. You’ve been working with Pandoran flora for nearly two years now, after all.

You frown, a little offended. “I’m studying the plants.”

When you point at the bladder polyps at your feet, he follows your finger and his expression turns a little scathing. He doesn’t appear very impressed with your work.

“That is rawp.” He says, eyeing the mud stains down your front. “It grows from animal waste.”

You freeze. “What?”

Mortification settles like a thick cloud over you. This is just fucking typical. First you vomit in front of him, then you grope him and make him uncomfortable, and now you show up in front of him covered in shit. This is just perfect.

“Oh god,” You whisper, pulling at your standard-issue tank top as your body grows hot and prickly with embarrassment.

You want to sink into the ground, to hide yourself from his intense golden eyes, but that humiliation wars with professional curiosity and the thrill of learning something new.

“So it uses manure as a direct food source?” Your fingers twitch towards your journal so you can record the information. “That’s rare, even for a halophyte! And it’s edible, right?”

Tsu’tey’s expression flickers for a second, before falling into scowling disapproval. “Vrrtep, stand up out of the dirt.”

You hardly hear him, too busy peering at the roots of the polyps. “What are the root systems like?”

Before you can get properly absorbed in your observations, two large hands enclose around your upper arms and you yelp loudly as you’re tugged to your feet. He is easily twice your size, and the casual display of strength sends a thrill of excitement rushing through you and leaves you breathless as you’re set on your feet.

You stare at him like a total moron now that you’re standing in front of him again. God, he’s so tall, so strong and pretty, and his little white luminescent freckles are glowing in the shade of the forest.

“You are dirty.” He mutters, reaching out tug at your soiled top.

Your toes curl in your shoes. “Um- yeah. Sorry.”

His eyes fall on your neck, still adorned with the choker-like necklace he had given you only the day before. His expression flickers, and his hand drifts from your top to your jewellery, tracing over the woven plant fibres.

Your breath catches as you watch him right back, captivated by the strong curves of his face and the sweet little glowing dots all over him. You lean forward without conscious thought, relishing the feeling of his huge hand tracing around your throat and chest.

But just as you’re beginning to get excited, he hastily removes his hand.

“Come with me.” He says, his voice low and calm and rumbly. “I will show you my hut, and clean you up.”

Your heart leaps, and you nod immediately. God, how could you refuse him that? He’s inviting you back to his house so he can clean you up. You can only pray that he’s giving you the signals that you think he is, and that you’re not reading too much into things.

Unlike the last few times you’ve followed Tsu’tey around the forest, padding along behind him as he bizarrely keeps his back entirely and firmly turned to you, this time he reaches out and takes a hold of your arm. He keeps his grip firm but light, not enough to hurt but enough to guide you firmly and keep you by his side.

As you stagger along at his side, your brain gets stuck on the heat of his very large hand on your arm. He’s so strong and so much bigger than you, and you feel supremely stupid for the way that you’re blushing. You absolutely hate yourself for the places that your thoughts are currently jumping to.

You’re so busy eyeing the way his very long fingers curl around your arm that you don’t look where you’re going, and end up tripping over one of the large roots that stick out of the ground. If not for his hold on you, you likely would have fallen on your face.

He says something in Na’vi that sounds like a curse, and then grabs at your other arm with his free hand before you hit the ground. Using both hands, he hauls you up with an ease that makes your stomach quiver.

“You are like blind talioang, crashing around and making noise like a fool,” He says. Though his words are harsh, his tone sounds almost amused. “Are you hurt?”

“No.” You stay, sounding distinctly strangled. “I’m good.”

He hums in acknowledgement, and doesn’t pull his hands away from you. His thumb strokes over your upper arm in a movement that seems absent-minded, but sends your hopes soaring. That’s an incredibly familiar gesture, right? That can’t just be platonic, surely?

You have to snap back into yourself, trying to regain some sense. You’re hot and sweaty and frazzled from the jungle air, and he’s just found you laying in animal shit. He is definitely not looking at you with any sexy undertones right now, as much as you’d like him to be. The kindness of his gesture in bringing you back to clean you up should be enough for you.

Tsu’tey’s tree hut is, as it happens, located in one of the enormous trees just at the edge of the village. The Omaticaya have built their temporary settlement around the Well of Souls, their houses located high up in the foliage and branches of the forest above them. It is impressive engineering and craftsmanship, and you stare up at the wooden structures with awe as you approach.

However, a problem reveals itself to you as you get close to the tree where Tsu’tey’s home has been built.

“How do we get up to it?” You ask, tilting your head all the way to stare up at the canopy of trees over your head.

At the question, Tsu’tey goes still. In fact he seems to freeze entirely, his muscles tensing and his back going ram-rod straight. The reaction is a little unnerving – you wonder if the question was offensive somehow.

“I-” He begins, and then breaks off. His brow is furrowed, and he looks from you to his hut overhead with a look of dawning frustration mixed with an odd sense of horror. “I had not considered this.”

“Considered what?”

“How you would get up.” His ears twitch as he glares up at the tree as though it’s personally offended him. His head snaps back to you, his tail lashing around his ankles. “I will fix this.”

“Oh,” You blink, surprised by his consideration. There’s no real reason he should be that concerned about you being able to get you to his house, but you find yourself smiling at his kindness all the same. “Don’t worry about it.”

“It is not worry,” He says firmly, bending down so that he is looking you straight in the eye. His expression is solemn and intense. “It is a promise. I will fix this.”

“Okay.” You say. It sounds as though you’ve just been punched in the stomach. God, does he even know how he sounds right now?

He’s so damn intense, but you decide to take a chance. You swallow thickly, and make a suggestion that you pray isn’t going to get you punched.

“I could, um…” You begin haltingly, “You could probably lift me up, right? You’re pretty big, and strong, and-” He turns to look at you, his expression as carefully neutral as ever, and you falter. “Or- you know what, that’s a terrible idea, never mi-”

You don’t even get to finish. Tsu’tey steps forward and reaches for you, and in a movement that sends your head spinning he picks you up and tosses you over his shoulder. You let out a startled squeal and grab at his shoulders, clutching at his neck as he steps forward and begins to haul himself up the tree.

You had meant that he could carry you piggy-back-style, not in a fireman’s carry, but you can’t find it within yourself to complain. You’re a little preoccupied with the flexing muscles in his back and the bulge of his biceps, and when one of his large hands wraps around your upper thigh under your ass to keep you steady you damn near jolt right out of his arms..

By the time he reaches the upper branches where his hut has been built, you feel as though you’re about to squirm right out of your skin. His hand is so big and warm and rough, and though he’s just trying to make sure that you don’t fall off his shoulder to your death, you can’t help but imagine his hands on you in other, more intimate situations.

By the time he reaches the upper branches where his hut is and sets you back down on your feet, you feel as though you’re about to lose your mind. You’ve never necessarily had a size kink before, but right now you feel as though you’re going insane.

You half-stagger as you attempt to keep your balance now that you’re standing, and Tsu’tey places his hand at the base of your spine to steady you. You flush with embarrassed heat, and look up at his face – he looks as implacably indifferent as ever, which makes you wonder if you’re imagining the tension between the two of you.

“Come,” He murmurs, reaching for your hand so he can tug you into the enclosed space of his hut. “I have something for you.”

You perk up at that, excited. “Another gift?”

Finally, his expression shifts to something other than neutral calm. He looks pleased, a little smirk tugging at his mouth.

“Yes.” He says simply.

You beam, delighted. The Na’vi as a people seem to have a culture that revolves around gift-giving. You can’t count the amount of little flowers and cute rocks that you’ve been given from the Na’vi children that run around, and you happily save everything you receive. But the gifts from Tsu’tey are so thoughtful, and mean so much more than any of the other little trinkets you receive from the children.

When you step into the woven reed-like lean-to, you pause. The inside of Tsu’tey’s home is nothing like what you had expected. The Na’vi are usually fans of wide-open spaces and open skies, and their homes are usually open-plan and sparse inside due to all their spare time being spent outdoors. But Tsu’tey’s home is cosy, the floors and walls cushioned with spongey leaves and woven mats.

From the ceiling, bioluminescent flowers and plantlife hang in bunches like tiny little fairy lights, and your mouth drops open admiringly as you step in and gaze around. There are gaps in the woven walls, allowing for an airy atmosphere and a beautiful view of the forest and the village below. The whole place is beautiful.

You turn back to Tsu’tey, and you’re startled to find that he’s already watching you. He’s barely even blinking, watching every expression on your face with near-frightening intensity. It looks as though he’s waiting on you to say something, and you realise that you should be polite and compliment his home.

“It’s so beautiful here,” You say earnestly, offering him a smile. “Wow. You must have spent forever decorating! It’s incredible.”

Tsu’tey relaxes, tension leaking out of his shoulders so obviously that it’s almost comical. His tail is raised and his ears are high and alert – not for the first time, you wish you were able to interpret Na’vi body language.

“You like it.” He says quietly. He sounds pleased, which makes you flustered in return – it’s terribly flattering that your opinion matters so much to him.

“Oh, I love it!” You’re probably hamming it up a little at this point, but sue you. You’re all alone with a huge sexy blue alien that has been touching you in a potentially suggestive manner, and you’ve already humiliated yourself several times in front of him. You don’t think you can be blamed for trying to redeem yourself a little here.

Tsu’tey’s ears twitch again, and his expression seems to lighten a little. He still looks pretty serious and scowly, but his eyes are softer now.

His home is only made up of one room, and most of the space is taken up by what looks almost like a bed, but it’s not like the usual hammock-type pieces that the Omaticaya usually sleep in. This piece is made from plant fibres, just like most things that the tribe uses, and it looks almost like a makeshift mattress. It’s huge, bigger than even a big guy like Tsu’tey would need, and it looks impossibly soft. You stare at it curiously. Why would Tsu’tey use something like that? He’s always struck you as somewhat of a traditionalist.

Tsu’tey is still watching you, so you tear your eyes away from the bed and smile bashfully at him.

“Um.. could I get cleaned up?” You ask. You’re beginning to get seriously self-conscious in your soiled clothes – even through your exo-mask you can smell the animal waste.

He hums. “Demanding thing.”

It doesn’t sound like a complaint – if anything, his mouth is twitching. He turns and makes his way towards the bed structure, leaving you flustered and embarrassed. There’s something laying on the bed; you only notice it when he pulls it carefully up into his hands and turns around to present it to you.

At first, you think it is tendrils from one of the purple plants you’ve seen in the forest. But then you look closer and realise that the tendrils are beaded, and the full thing begins to take shape. He’s offering you clothes. Na’vi clothes.

It would be rude not to take them, so you accept them and peer closer at the fabric. It is very pretty, a soft lilac colour, but you can’t imagine how on earth it’s meant to go on you. There don’t appear to be any straps. The loincloth is simpler, more similar to Tsu’tey’s, but you feel yourself growing warm just at the thought of changing into this in front of the big man in front of you.

He’s still watching you closely, looking for any reaction, and you really don’t want to disappoint him. For some reason, you feel that it’s incredibly important to react correctly right now.

“Thank you.” You say politely, before fidgeting a little. “Um..”

You wait a moment, before realising that he’s not going to turn around. Why would he? The Na’vi do not share the same sense of self-consciousness about their bodies or nudity that humans have, and no doubt he would be confused if you asked him to look away.

You clear your throat, and push your inhibitions aside. He’s not going to care – to him, it’s just a strange alien body in front of him.

You start with your cargos. Wriggling your way out of them, you leave them on the floor as you slip into the loincloth material. You leave your panties on for comfort and a little added security. To your surprise, the loincloth fits perfectly.

Next comes your soiled tank top, and you pull that overhead and drop it to the floor with the trousers. You hesitate a moment before unclipping your bra and adding that to the pile too, but that’s as far as you get on your own.

You look back to Tsu’tey a little nervously. He’s still watching you, though he has stepped back and sunk down to sit on his hunkers near the bed. Even hunkering like that, he’s as tall as you. It feels like being watched by a large predator, and you feel blood rush to your head as you raise your arms nervously to cover your breasts.

“Could you help me put this on?” You whisper. It’s loud in the thick atmosphere that lays between you, and for the first time you notice the way his hands are gripping his thighs.

He doesn’t answer verbally. Instead he beckons you over, and you step mincingly closer before handing the chest covering back to him.

“There are no straps.” You laugh a little breathlessly, fighting to sound casual. “I can’t figure it out.”

Tsu’tey’s big hands are beginning to feel familiar to you, and you can’t figure out whether you want to relax into him or tense from the electrifying touch. You hold your breath as he reaches out and begins to fix the tendrils over your breasts and around your neck.

His touch feels positively searing. You have to keep fighting to remind yourself that this is non-sexual for him – he’s just doing you a favour by helping you out with the clothes. You don’t want to be an absolute freak by making it weird.

If it weren’t for the fact that Tsu’tey’s large hands keep brushing your tits, you might be a little bit more interested in the way the tendrils that make up the top adhere to your skin. As it is, all you can do is stare at him like a total moron. He is so close like this, allowing you to gaze at his face and take in all the details you’ve never noticed before.

“There.” He says quietly, and his breath ghosts over your skin. “That is better.”

The garments hardly offer you any coverage at all, and you can feel the heat in your cheeks as he drops his gaze down the length of your body to examine how it fits you.

You clear your throat and step back before you do something terribly stupid like lean forward to kiss him. You’re terribly flustered, and you have no idea what to do with your hands. The worst part is that no matter how embarrassed you get, Tsu’tey remains completely calm and unflappable with his cool expression.

You’re hyper-aware of the fact that you had literally been rolling in shit, so you move to your utility trousers and begin rooting around in some of the enormous pockets. It’s embarrassing that you’re so aware of how you smell, but you dig out the small bottle of body spray you’ve been carrying around everywhere with you. It’s sweet vanilla scented, and it’s probably a pretty pathetic attempt to make yourself appear more attractive to him, but you’re really grasping at straws here. You spritz it quickly on your neck before turning back to him. The sweet smell makes you feel a little more confident, and you face him with a little smile.

“It’s very pretty,” You say, stroking over the velvety soft material of the loincloth around your waist.

Tsu’tey looks smug, but only for a moment. Then his expression turns confused, and his nose wrinkles.

“What is that?” He asks.

“What?”

He leans forward, and you stare up at him with big, hopeful eyes as he comes close to you. “You smell… strange.”

You blink. “Oh. Sorry, I just- I sprayed perfume.” Your smile turns hopeful. “Do you like it?”

His eyes are so big and so golden, it feels as though you could just fall right into them and get lost forever. God, you’re down so bad.

“No.” His nose wrinkles. “I do not like it.”

“Oh.” You say again. Your stomach sinks a little – you’re beginning to feel like a total idiot. You can’t even get it off now that you’ve sprayed it on yourself. Fuck, it’s like all you can do is continuously sabotage yourself.

Tsu’tey takes a single step back, and for a wild moment you panic thinking that you now smell so repulsive to him that he’s attempting to escape. As it turns out though, he’s only stepping back so that he can take a look at you in the thin top and tiny loincloth. You’re practically nude – the top is little more than a decorative nipple cover, and the loincloth seems to have been fashioned for someone your size from half a regular loincloth. You probably look ridiculous, and you feel mortifyingly exposed under his intense gaze.

“Do I look like a Na’vi?” You joke in an attempt to cover your awkwardness. You even hold your arms out like you’re showing off your new outfit, despite how naked you feel.

“No, ma’yawntutsyìp.” Tsu’tey says with a snort, fixing one last strand of your top before withdrawing his hand. “You are too odd-looking for that.”

Oh.

You are unfamiliar with the word he’s just called you, but the second half of what he’s said has your stomach plummeting to your feet.

You feel your smile freeze on your face. “Oh! Right!”

Oh shit, you’ve never felt like such a fucking idiot before in your life. How stupid of you. Why would you even ask that, what were you expecting him to say in response?

He tilts his head, eyes narrowing at you. He must have noticed your change in demeanour, but judging by his big eyes and the flick of his ears he can’t figure out why your mood has changed.

You feel like an idiot, so you just force a smile. It probably just looks like a grimace, so you hurriedly clear your throat.

“Thank you very much for the clothes.” You say. “And for showing me your home. Um. It’s all very lovely and very kind of you. But I should go now.”

Tsu’tey has been listening to you carefully, but his brow collapses into a frown when you finish speaking.

“I did not mean to-” He begins, and his voice has taken on an odd sort of tone of contrition. For some reason that’s even more mortifying than everything else, and you rush to cut him off.

“It’s fine!” You say quickly. “No worries, really! I just- I should be getting back.”

Tsu’tey hesitates, his gaze dropping from your face to the necklace around your throat, before clenching his jaw and nodding.

“Very well.” He says, a little stiffly. “I will take you back.”

The new science outpost is pretty janky in comparison to the state of the art technology that had made up Hell’s Gate, but it’s home all the same and the other scientists there watch your comings and goings with the tired exasperation of a vaguely disapproving auntie or uncle. It’s difficult to find any real privacy, so they end up aware of your interests whether you want them to be or not. That just so happens to include any embarrassing crushes.

The outpost itself is just one long prefabricated building, sectioned inside with steel walls into laboratories and workspaces, and a large open area for living. In an attempt to achieve some level of personal privacy, most people have erected makeshift curtain walls and hung them from the ceiling to section their bunks off from the rest of the space.

You spend the next several days hiding out in your own little curtained off bed bunk, trying to smother your mortification under your pillows. The other scientists exchange knowing glances (it’s not as though your crush on Tsu’tey was a secret), but mercifully they’ve decided to leave you alone. You spend days wallowing in self-pity as you attempt to stitch together the scraps of your dignity. You only emerge from your curtained off little living area to get food or use the bathroom and shower before scurrying back into the safety of your private area. You can’t escape the feeling that the other inhabitants of the science outpost find your embarrassment terribly funny.

It’s difficult not to feel discouraged. You’ve been trying so hard to drop hints and send out tentative feelers in an attempt to determine how receptive Tsu’tey may be to your feelings, yet you find yourself at a total loss.

You had really thought he was interested when he started giving you all those little gifts and bringing you foraging and fishing with him, and you had been certain that he meant something by giving you the pretty necklace that you now never took off, but now you’re just not sure. You’ve embarrassed yourself so many times in front of him, and he thinks you’re weird looking, so why would one of the most handsome, brave, and skilled warriors in the clan be in any way interested in a Sky Person like you?

And yet he’s gotten so touchy recently! You groan into your pillow – you have to wonder if perhaps you’re reading too much into things just because you want him to be interested in you.

On the fourth day of your self-imposed exile in your bed, you hear your name called by one of the older botanists who’s working out in the main laboratory. You elect to pretend you didn’t hear her. You hope that perhaps she’ll give up if you don’t answer immediately.

It doesn’t work. In fact, she simply calls your name again, louder this time. Oddly, she sounds a little bit more frantic this time, too.

“What?” You shout back, voice muffled by your pillow.

“Come here! He says he won’t leave until-”

The scientist’s voice is cut off by a louder, deeper, familiar voice.

You shoot up in bed, nearly knocking the laptop playing comfortingly old human films right onto the floor. That sounds like- but there’s no way-

“Wait!” Comes another scientist’s frantic voice. It sounds like Norm. “You can’t just-!”

The curtain that sections your own makeshift space from the rest of the living area is pulled back with such force that the whole wire fixing it to the ceiling snaps and it all goes tumbling to the floor. Standing there (although standing may not be entirely accurate considering he is hunched over almost comically in order to fit inside the space) is Tsu’tey.

You nearly scream. You’re just laying around in your unmade, messy bed in nothing but an enormous t-shirt and an old pair of underwear, your hair is a mess, and you’re pretty sure there’s crumbs all over the mattress. This is most certainly not the sexy, attractive image you would like him to have of you.

“What the fuck-!” You start to yell, panicked.

Norm is standing just behind Tsu’tey, glancing from you to the huge Na’vi man with an expression that suggests he would like nothing more than to disappear. Without his Avatar’s body, he looks hopelessly tiny next to Tsu’tey.

“Will I- should I go and get Jake-?” He asks uncertainly, darting a look in your direction.

“No.” Tsu’tey snaps with such force that Norm looks as though he’s about to get bowled over. “No Jakesully.”

“Got it.” Norm squeaks.

Tsu’tey turns to you again, his expression collapsed into a visibly frustrated scowl. “You will talk to me.”

You swallow thickly. You’re pretty sure he’s furious with you, but damn. He looks so good like this, all scowly and strong and pretty. The cramped interior of the science outpost makes him look even bigger, and your eyes are stupidly drawn to the contours of his chest and abs.

“Got it.” You echo Norm, though even more pathetically.

Norm wavers where he’s standing. “Right. You’ve got this sorted, then?”

“Uh.” You say, a little hesitantly. “Yeah. I got this.”

Tsu’tey turns his scowl on Norm, and it intensifies tenfold. “Leave.”

Norm doesn’t wait to be told twice. He practically scampers away, and after he disappears from sight you can hear the heavy, pressurized door to the living area whoosh shut. In the ensuing silence, you can hear him yelling at everyone to get out. You realise he’s clearing everyone out of the outpost; your stomach gives a nervous sort of tremble at the thought.

Tsu’tey steps forward, still looming over despite the way he’s hunching, and you scramble to get out of bed and straighten out your oversized t-shirt.

“I- I’m sorry, it’s a mess in here-” You blabber. Ridiculously, you find yourself attempting to make your bed.

“Sit.” Tsu’tey intones, and your legs practically buckle beneath you without conscious thought as you take a seat on the edge of your mattress.

You thought that Tsu’tey would be even angrier once he was alone with you, but the opposite appears to be true. He has relaxed slightly, and his expression has shifted a little further towards confused frustration. He comes to a stop just in front of your bed, settling into a crouch at your feet. Even crouching, he is taller than you, and you swallow thickly as you stare back at him.

“You are difficult," he begins with a frown. “And confusing. I do not mind this – it pleases me, on some level. I do not mind that you are demanding. I am capable of pleasing my mate, and I will show you this. But you must tell me what exactly to do to please you. I am not used to Sky People.”

That absolutely blindsides you, and you let out a strange wheezing gasp of disbelief. Mate? Please you? What the fuck is going on? What is he talking about?

He continues before you can demand an explanation. “You have not returned to the village in many days. Have I upset you?”

“I-” you choke, grasping onto one part of what he’s said and disregarding the parts that you’re having trouble understanding. “Difficult? Confusing? I’ve been- I’ve practically been making a fool of myself trying to get your attention!”

His expression changes. “My attention?”

“I’ve been-” Ridiculously, your voice wobbles. “God, this is all just so embarrassing. All I wanted to do was spend time with you. I wanted you to like me. I’ve been trying to make myself look pretty with make-up, I've been trying to wear my nice clothes, but none of it has worked! You hate my perfume, you think I look gross-”

“No!” He jolts forward so rapidly that you startle, shuffling closer to the bed so that he’s eye-level with you.

You take a breath, watching him carefully as he reaches out to lay his hand on the necklace that sits above your collarbones.

“I do not think this.” His voice is rough and low, his eyes fervent as he watches you like he’s begging you to listen to him. “I swear, I do not.”

“You-” Oh fuck, now you’re snivelling like an absolute loser. “You think I’m weird-looking, you said so-”

“No.” Tsu’tey responds. His voice has turned strained and a little frenetic, and he reaches out to grasp your jaw in his enormous hand so he can turn your face to look at him directly. “You are- I think you are lovely. Yuey, ma’yawntutsyìp.”

His hand nearly encompasses your whole face, and you lean into him reflexively as you blink the tears from your eyes. God, you don’t even know why you’re crying. It’s ridiculous, and you’re terrified that Tsu’tey will think you’re a total idiot.

When a single tear overflows and streaks down your cheek, Tsu’tey jolts forward yet again as he places one knee on the bed and climbs up. He’s huge, almost twice your height and width, and yet he’s so gentle as he cups your face and wipes desperately at the tear track. The two of you are pressed close together in the tiny space of your bed, and the proximity makes your breath catch in your chest.

“Ma’muntxatu,” He murmurs, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours. He translates, “My mate. I am meant to care for you. Why would you hide yourself from me instead of telling me you were feeling this way?”

Your brain just about grinds to a full halt. This is the second time he’s mentioned the word mate – what the fuck is going on? You stare up at him, almost afraid to ask what he’s talking about in case you ruin the moment.

“I-” You gape at him, bewildered.

“I understand the Sky People have different customs,” Tsu’tey says seriously; his expression suggests he doesn’t regard these customs very highly. “But here, mates share their burdens.”

“Mates.” You repeat with a gasp, head spinning. Is that what’s happening here?

He hums, and his soft, velvety nose nuzzles at your temple. Despite his size, he handles you with such care that you feel like something delicate to be treasured.

“I do think that you are unusual looking,” He murmurs, his voice so low that it rumbles right into your chest. “But I also find you attractive. You think I would have put effort into courting someone I did not desire?”

Courting. Slowly, all of your interactions over the last few weeks begin to reframe themselves in your head. The little gifts, the hunting, the walks, the increasingly bold touches. The necklace. You had thought that he might perhaps be nudging you to show subtle interest – you had never considered there may be something deeper, such as an alien courting ritual.

And yet, it’s not the mate part that your mind has gotten stuck on. “You desire me?”

He groans, and the sound rumbles through your chest and down into your stomach. “Of course.”

When his hand comes to settle on your necklace again, you swear you nearly combust. He’s done this several times since he had gifted the piece of jewellery to you, but this time the connotations of the touch steal your breath away. His hand is so big that it overlaps the necklace and frames your throat, and you stare up at him with your lips softly parted.

You realise that this is the first time you’ve been in front of Tsu’tey without your exo-pack. He can breathe your air for far longer than you can breathe his, and now your bare faces are almost touching.

You give into the desire that’s been hounding you for months now, and lean forward to boldly press a kiss to his mouth.

For a split second, you wonder with a thread of panic if you were being too hasty. Were you moving too quickly? Perhaps he didn’t actually want to kiss you-

Your thoughts are cut short, because it’s almost like Tsu’tey was just waiting for you to make the first move.

He surges into you, his huge hands engulfing your face as he kisses insistently at your lips, nipping lightly at you and humming and purring against your mouth. It’s frantic, passionate, overwhelming, and your eyes practically roll back in your head as you allow him to kiss you stupid.

When one of his big hands drops from your face to your thigh and wraps around the soft flesh there, you let out an embarrassing sort of breathy whimper against his mouth. It feels like the culmination of all your hopes and desperate dreams over the past few months, and you can hardly believe he’s actually kissing and touching you like this. It almost feels like a wild dream.

He pulls back at the sound, and looks at you. He pauses. His ears flick and his pupils flare wide, and in that moment you wonder exactly how much of his body language has flown over your head due to the simple fact that it is alien to you.

His long blue fingers tangle in the thin, worn material of your old oversized shirt. His voice is gruff and gravely when he says, “I do not like this. Where is the tewng I gave you? I want to see you wearing it again.”

“You don’t like my shirt?” You ask, dazed.

“I do not,” He bends his head and nips at the hinge of your jaw, causing you to jerk into him. “You look better in the clothes of the People.”

You laugh breathlessly. “I can- I can take it off.”

“Yes,” He mutters, his ears twitching. “I would like that.”

A thrill runs through you at that. He’s so big and pretty and sexy and he’s sitting in front of you telling you that he desires you – it’s enough to send your head spinning into the atmosphere. You don’t think you’ve ever moved to strip so quickly in your life, and you toss your ugly old shirt to the floor.

A little tremor seems to run through Tsu’tey as he watches you, now laid bare before him in nothing but an old pair of cotton panties. His eyes are burning into you, all molten gold and heat. You’ve never had a partner watch you so attentively, curiously, and appreciatively before.

“Ma’muntxatu,” He whispers. His voice is still low and gravelly, but his tone is cautious. “What comes next is mating, fully. If you are not ready-”

“I’m ready.” You gasp stupidly. God, you don’t think you’ve ever been so ready for anything in your life. You’ve been dreaming for months about being given a chance with him, and you’d literally rather die than waste this opportunity.

Tsu’tey has always been pretty difficult to read. His facial expressions tend to be pretty limited to scowls and smug smirks, but even now you can spot the brightening of his eyes. His smile has an excited edge to it, and the luminescent freckle-like dots that cover his face seem to glow brighter in the dim alcove of your bunk.

His palm is big and rough and warm when it comes up to settle over your exposed breasts, and you arch your back to try and push further into his hands. Tsu’tey is tall. Taller than any other partner you ever had before, and that alone does things to you. He dwarfs you as he leans over you, and when he climbs fully onto the bed with you the springs creak ominously. His mass hunches over you, and makes you feel tiny as his head drops down to nuzzle at your bare belly.

You make a strangled little sound, your thoughts whiting out at the idea of his huge hands touching you properly. God, you’re so wet and so stupid.

He rumbles again, deep in his chest. “I can smell you, ma’yawne. You smell so sweet.”

His fingers hook into the hem of your underwear. For a moment he seems to get distracted by the soft cotton fabric, pulling at it curiously, before he gets impatient and starts tugging at them earnestly. There’s an ominous ripping sound, and you feel the cheap stitching give way until his strong hands.

“Holy fuck.” You breathe, staring up at him with wide eyes. He’s just torn your fucking panties right off you.

He buries his face into the juncture of your shoulder and lays a hot, biting kiss on your throat, leaving you hot and shuddering beneath him. His lips travel to the sensitive flesh just beneath your jaw just as one of his hands enclose around the soft flesh of your upper thigh.

“You are very soft,” He breathes, his nose tracing a path down your neck to your sternum, right between your breasts. “Softer than anything I’ve ever felt. You are so- I do not know the word. You are… less firm, than Na’vi women.”

You gasp a laugh as his fingers brush your nipples. “Squishy, is the word I think you’re looking for.”

When his palm lays over your breast, the dry roughness of his hand covers almost from your navel to your collarbones. Your whole body clenches at the thought of even one of his big fingers inside you. You can’t even bring yourself to be embarrassed at the pathetic little noise that’s escaped you, because the sound brings a smug little grin to his face.

“Squishy.” He repeats, and he sounds approving. His trailing hands leave tingles in their wake, and it’s so overwhelming that you don’t know whether to push into them or shy away.

“Touch me,” You whisper, thighs splaying open as his wide frame settles between your legs. “Please-”

You don’t need to plead; he moves to do as you ask immediately, his hand sliding down to cup your sex between your legs. You’ve only just started to relax into the mattress, delighted with the contact, when he pulls back and pushes himself down further.

To your bewilderment, he lays one of his hands on the inside of your knees and pushes it to the side. You move to sit up, exposed and mortified, but his grip on your legs keep you pinned in place. His head ducks down, and he squints at your pussy.

“What are you doing!” You yelp, mortified.

“I wanted to see if you looked the same as a Na’vi down there-” He cuts himself off when you slap at his head, pulling back with an offended frown as he catches your swinging hands. “Why are you hitting me?”

“Stop looking at me like that!” You hissed, hot from a shameful sort of arousal. “It’s embarrassing!”

Tsu’tey’s grin turns wolfish, and you just have time to take a breath before he leans in and murmurs, “I plan to do more than look, little demon.”

His long thumb rubs soothing, maddening circles around your clit and making your hips jump to try and increase his pace. The rhythm is nice, but it’s not nearly enough.

“Can you-” You start, brow furrowing as you reach for him. Your hands settle on his shoulders, and you pull ineffectually at him. “Please, I want to touch you too-”

He presses a kiss to your lower belly, and you feel the scrape of his teeth against your naked belly. He’s grinning.

“I knew you were a demanding little thing.” He whispers against your stomach, before biting at your hip bone and making your hips jump again. “Be patient.”

“Okay.” You choke out stupidly, struggling to keep yourself still.

The next kiss Tsu’tey gives you is directly between your legs, right where you’re growing wet. It's such a surprise that you choke a cough, hips jolting towards him without conscious thought. The beads in his braids trail over your bare skin, tickling you.

Tsu’tey just sends you a tiny lopsided smirk, as though he knows exactly how desperate you are right now. A single dimple appears in his cheek, before it disappears from sight as he buries his entire face between your legs.

Your entire body jerks in surprise. His tongue is hot and wet and so much bigger than any human tongue you’ve ever experienced. The texture is a little rougher too, and as he licks at you it feels like liquid fire erupts through your nerves. Your hips twitch and chase after his touch, but he keeps you in place with a single big hand spread across your belly.

"Oh my god," You gasp, tilting your head back into the mattress. "Oh fuck-"

You can feel the bastard's smile pressed up against your core, but only for a moment before he licks all up the length of your pussy. You’ve never felt anything like this before — it's red-hot molten pleasure, and he’s so big that it feels like the whole world starts and ends with his mouth and his tongue.

When he pulls back, only an inch or so, you nearly cry out in protest.

“Hush,” He murmurs, turning his head so that his lips brush against your inner thigh.

"Tsu’tey," You gasp, bare chest heaving. "Please-"

You hardly even know what you’re asking for, but you bury your fingers in his neat braids and hold on tight. He seems to take your grip on his hair as encouragement, because he makes a rumbly sound in your throat and sucks at your clit hard.

You let out a little scream, startled and overwhelmed by how unbelievably good that feels. Your back arches right off the bed as you push into Tsu’tey’s mouth; you don't even have time to worry that you might be too insistent, because his hands only hold your thighs spread with ease. He even takes both of her legs and tucks them over his shoulders — whether it's to give himself a better angle to lick at you at or whether it's to allow you to hump against his face easier isn't clear, but you appreciate it all the same.

Distantly you’re aware that Tsu’tey’s own hips are moving against the mattress, and you let out another soft moan at the realisation that he’s rutting against your bed as he licks into you. His rough, wet tongue rasps against your clit in a way that is so damn overwhelming that you feel like you’re melting, a thin layer of sweat glittering on your skin as you writhe against his face.

When one of Tsu’tey’s big fingers begin to press into you, you let out a truly pathetic sort of moan. Even a single one of his fingers offers a stretch that has you squeezing your eyes and rocking into him eagerly. His mouth is so hot and eager and big that it feels as though he’s trying to swallow you whole even as his single finger cautiously stretches you wide.

"Tsu’tey," You manage to say, your voice high and wavering. "I want- I want you to.."

He lets out a soft noise against you, then pulls back to look at you with wide, shining eyes. He licks his mouth like a cat with cream, and blinks innocently.

"What do you want, ma’yawne?" He asks, his voice rough. Though his mouth has pulled back, his fingers continue kneading insistently at your pussy.

"I want-" You say, then choke a gasp as a second finger begins to push into you, your legs squeezing tight around his hand. "Just- I just want you to-"

Tsu’tey bends his head and curls his tongue against you again, focusing on your clit. "Just what? You must tell me how to please you-"

"Oh, for fuck’s sake!" You curse, slapping at his shoulders as impatience wars with pleasure in your lower belly. "Have sex with me, dickhead!"

His expression goes slack momentarily with surprise, before he laughs breathlessly.

“Yes,” He whispers, his teeth bared in a feral sort of smile. “I can do this.”

He sits up then, towering over you as he reaches down to remove his tewng in one smooth movement. You get distracted by his sleek muscles and slim waist, and you reach out automatically to stroke a hand over his warm velvety skin. He shudders slightly under your fingers, and reaches eagerly to pull you right up off the bed and into his arms as he settles back against the mattress with you atop him.

God, the size difference between you sets your head spinning; you end up straddling his thighs, your legs splayed out on either side of his narrow hips as he keeps your naked body pressed tight against his. You’re so wet and needy still that all you can do is rock desperately against him – the length of his cock is pressing against your thigh, hot and hard, and you squeeze your eyes shut tight as you realise just how big he is. Fuck, is he even going to fit?

Apparently, Tsu’tey is thinking the same thing.

“You are small,” He murmurs as he noses at your sweat-slick temple. “I do not want to hurt you.”

A lightbulb moment strikes, and you push gently at his shoulders as you say, “I- hang on, I have-”

He lets you go, albeit reluctantly. When you scramble off the bed, naked as the day you were born, and scurry over to one of the other bed bunks, Tsu’tey reclines back on your mattress and watches you with a heavy, heated gaze. His gaze on you feels like a weight, and you grow flustered as you start pulling out drawers in the dresser you’re searching.

“What are you doing?” He demands – out of the corner of your eye, you can see the way his tail swishes impatiently. He’s so confident in his own nudity that it makes you blush.

“This is Steiner’s bunk, and I know that he has- aha!” You cry out in triumph as you pull out the little bottle of lube you knew he had squirrelled away.

Tsu’tey just blinks blankly at it, clearly not comprehending why exactly you’re so pleased. Despite his confusion, his mouth twitches as you bound back to the bed and leap up to join him.

You crack the lube open. Admittedly you’re a little too eager, and the gooey liquid leaks all over your hands, but no matter. Judging by the sheer size of the weapon between Tsu’tey’s legs, you’ll need every last drop of that lube. Tsu’tey himself is eyeing the lube mistrustfully, though he doesn’t pull away from you when you reach for him.

“What is it-” He starts to ask, before baring his sharp teeth in a hiss when your slick hand closes around his cock. His hips buck against you so violently that it startles a breathless laugh out of your mouth.

“It’s lube,” You breathe, enraptured by the sight of your own hands stroking his cock. It’s almost comically large in your grip, the same rich blue colour as the rest of him but for the tip which is flushed a pretty pale lilac colour. “It’ll help.”

It doesn’t seem like Tsu’tey is in the headspace to argue, because he just lets out a cut-off little groan before tilting his head back. Encouraged by his reactions, you reach one slick hand down between your legs and begin to stretch yourself out. Truthfully, there’s not all that much work to do. Tsu’tey had already begun stretching you on his own fingers, and you’re so aroused that you open up easily. Besides, you’re a little impatient; Tsu’tey is letting out breathy little pants and bitten-off growls, and you don’t want to wait anymore.

“Okay,” You breathe, pushing yourself up on his body and swinging your legs around his trim hips. “Okay, okay, let’s go-”

“Easy,” He says quietly. Despite his very obvious signs of arousal, his voice is soothing enough to have you going lax against him. “We will go slow.”

Slow definitely isn’t what you want right now, but he’s right. Judging by the size of his cock where it’s pressing insistently between your legs, slow is the only way you’re going to be successful here.

For a split second, you start to doubt yourself. But then Tsu’tey’s big, four-fingered hands come to settle on your hips, wrapping almost the whole way around you, and your doubt disappears as your stomach clenches in excitement.

As soon as the head of his cock presses against your folds, you take a breath and hold it. You had wondered if the amount of lube you had used was overkill, but as soon as you begin to bear down you realise that nope, you definitely needed that lube.

Tsu’tey swears, deep and rough as he throws his head back against your bed. The tendons in his neck are straining, but he manages to hold perfectly still as you sit astride him and lower yourself slowly but steadily down his cock.

“Fuck,” You wheeze, grabbing at his broad shoulders for balance. The stretch is intense, almost all-consuming. Your mind has gone blank, thoughts narrowed down to nothing but the size of him as the slow, inexorable stretch of it has your breath catching in your throat.

“Easy,” Tsu’tey says again, but this time he sounds distinctly strained. His self-restraint is admirable – you can see from his clenched jaw, the sweat on his brow, and his shallow breaths that he wants so desperately to move, but he keeps himself entirely still as you attempt to adjust to him.

You’re taking deep, careful breaths. It feels like you’re about to crack, but when you glance down you find that he’s not even halfway in. The stretch is starting to sting, but you’ve been stretched well and the excess of lube is helping to dull it – it’s nothing you can’t breathe through.

Tsu’tey’s fingers flex around your waist, and he lets out a quiet groan as he edges his hips forward, rocking his cock another inch inside of you. When he finally bottoms out inside you, the sweet ache of the stretch has you leaning forward and burying your face into his defined pectorals and groaning into his chest.

“Are you-” He starts, before breaking off with a stifled groan. His hands flex around your waist again, a little rougher than before but not hard enough to hurt, before he starts again. “Are you alright?”

You don’t answer immediately. Truthfully, you’re trying to catch your breath. Your chest is heaving as you pant, and you can feel your own body trying to suck him in further but there’s nowhere else to go because he’s filling you up so completely. The ache is fading, and you find your hips humping back against him subconsciously..

“Yes,” You moan, face still buried in his chest. “Yes, I’m so good.”

Tsu’tey laughs, a breathless little chuckle, and you think it might just be the loveliest sound you’ve ever heard. Encouraged by his reaction, you lift yourself up a few inches so you can ease back down. You repeat the movement a few more times, and then you’ve established a steady pace of fucking yourself on his cock.

Even as you’re riding him though, you can't help but look down to admire the view — the expanse of his torso stretches long and lean beneath you, musculature tensing as you roll and undulate on top of him. His eyes are bright and glassy with arousal as he watches you move, his gaze flicking rapidly over you as though he can't decide what part he wants to watch the most.

Eventually his eyes settle on your face, and he moans softly as you plant your hands on his chest for balance and begin to move faster. The muscles in his thighs ripple as he strains his hips forward to meet yours, though he’s still fighting to keep himself contained. You pay no mind to the way he tries to meet your thrusts, focusing on grinding desperately against him, trying to get his cock to hit just right.

He’s watching you with such fierce interest that it’s overwhelming, and you lean forward to kiss him again. It’s still so surreal that you can kiss him, that this is something he wants to do with you.

When you lean forward to kiss him, the angle shifts and all of a sudden he's hitting the spot that makes your knees go weak. Your thighs are already burning from the exertion of riding him, and the liquid heat that shoots up your spine every time you sink down on him has your breath catching in your chest.

Your breathing is beginning to become interspersed with gasping moans as you feel your stomach tightening, the muscles in your legs beginning to clench up. You’re minutes away from getting a cramp in your thighs, but the pressure building in your belly is almost overwhelming. You’re so close, you don't think anything could convince you to stop now.

“I-” You gasp, and your words come out on a whimper. “I’m going to- please, please, please-”

You had been close before, when Tsu’tey had his head buried between your legs with his mouth suctioned to your cunt, but now you swear your vision whites out every time hips grind up into you.

“Yes, ma’yawne,” Tsu’tey grunts, watching your face eagerly, “Go ahead. I have you, I see you.”

When one of his hands creeps between your legs so that he can tease at your clit, you shudder hard. The pressure in your belly begins to tighten into a knot, and the pleasure begins to crest over you.

There’s a soft pressure around your waist, and you realise that his tail has come to wrap around your belly as your orgasm hits you for real. Your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open as you clutch at Tsu’tey’s beaded hair, rocking against him desperately as you shake apart in his arms. Your legs quake so dramatically that you can barely keep moving, and you let out a choked sob as the orgasm rips through you.

You’re still gasping and shivering from the aftershocks when Tsu’tey shoves himself up. His arms wrap tight around your back as he spins, keeping your hips locked together as he switches your positions so that you’re the one on your back beneath him.

“I have to- May I-” He starts, stuttering uncharacteristically. His hips are twitching as though he can’t quite control them, and his eyes are a little glassy as he pants over you.

He looks half-feral, desperate and sweaty and trying so hard to keep himself under control. It’s impossibly sexy, and you nod wildly.

“Yes!” You gasp eagerly. “Yes, you can keep going-”

He doesn’t need any more encouragement than that. One of his hands snakes under your back and curls around your waist to pull you up against him as he begins to set an even, cautious pace. With the other arm, he's balanced himself on his forearm beside your head for leverage as he drives into you, beginning to pick up speed. He’s still being careful not to hurt you even as he begins to lose himself in pleasure. He looks totally blissed out, his eyes a little unfocused as he lets out soft breathy pants.

Tsu’tey grunts, his arms pushing your legs up and to the side, and then suddenly he’s fucking into you for real. All you can do is gasp against him as the breath is driven straight out of your lungs by his desperate humping. Despite the size of him, he fucks you with an ease that is startling – your legs lock around his slim hips as he rocks into you, clutching at him as he quite literally fucks you into your mattress. You find yourself shoved up the bed by his thrusts until you have to throw your arms up to grab the headboard in order to prevent yourself from being driven right into it.

It’s beginning to get overwhelming, your orgasm making you over-sensitive and shivery, but you breathe through it – you want to give him this, and you desperately want to feel him come in you. With shaking hands, you cup his face carefully as he rolls his hips against you, his chest pressed to yours. His eyes flicker open and dart to yours, golden and heated as he pants; it’s so intimate that it nearly steals your breath away entirely.

You’re not sure what drives your next move – truthfully, you think it’s an action borne entirely from instinct.

With one hand cupping his jaw, your other arm snakes around his shoulders and trails through the braids that are beginning to loosen from the upstyle he had them pulled back. Your fingers tentatively brush against the braid that protects his neural queue – thinking back to the day you had been exploring his body so carefully, you take a chance and tug lightly at the queue.

Tsu’tey’s reaction is almost instantaneous. A moan is punched out of him, and his eyes roll back in his head. His hand flexes and fists into the sheets by your head, his hips stutter and falter as his brow pinches, and then you feel him coming inside of you.

“Oh.” He chokes, his head dropping down to rest between your breasts as his hips roll unevenly, riding out his pleasure in the cradle of your legs. He rocks into you until it grows to be too much for him, and he goes still with his face buried in your tits.

“Fuck.” Is all you can manage to say in reply, closing your eyes and breathing heavily.

A beat passes, the two of you breathing heavily, before Tsu’tey raises his head to regard you carefully. “Are you okay, ma’yawne?”

Your pussy is feeling achy from being stretched so wide, and you’re definitely going to have trouble walking tomorrow. Your hips ache and your muscles burn, and you lay flopped on the bed like a ragdoll. You’ve never felt so happy in your life.

“Yes,” You whisper to him, a grin beginning to stretch wildly across your face. “I’m amazing, actually.”

Tsu’tey returns your smile, sharp teeth revealed as his full lips peel back in a pleased, feral grin.

Now that he’s stopping fucking into you, the silence that falls over the room makes you realise just how damn loud your mattress springs were. It’s a wonder that the weight of Tsu’tey alone hasn’t brought your whole bed crashing down to the ground.

Tsu’tey must notice the same thing, because he makes a dissatisfied sound as he pulls out of you and moves to settle down beside you. In one smooth move, he pulls you right up against his chest as he lounges back against the pillows as though he belongs there.

“I do not like your kelku,” He mutters, nosing into your sweaty temple before brushing his lips against your skin in a kiss. “It is not suited to you.”

You let out a breathless laugh, allowing your head to drop against his chest heavily as his long, strong fingers begin stroking soothingly over your bare back.

“No?” You ask, closing your eyes as you laze comfortably against the length of his large, nude body. There’s something impossibly comforting about being all wrapped up in the body of someone twice your size that is so dedicated to treating you as though you’re built from spun sugar. You feel like you’re something precious, someone worthy of being protected.

He hums, tracing delicate little shapes in between your shoulderblades. It’s amazing that such big hands could be so gentle, especially considering just how thoroughly he’s fucked you.

“My kelku is better.” He says decisively, his nose wrinkling in a sneer as he peers up at the snapped wire hanging from the ceiling where he tore your privacy curtain down. “You will be more comfortable there.”

Dear god, was he asking you to move in with him? You raise your head from his chest just so you can blink at him, bewildered. He’s watching you expectantly, ears twitching; he clearly expects a response.

“It’ll be a pain to bring my oxygen reserves for my exo-packs over.” You say, the only thing you can think of.

He makes a face, as though he thinks that is a silly concern. “If you need it, we will bring it.”

As simple as that. You bite back a smile. Well, damn. Why the fuck not? You don’t think you could refuse him anything even if you wanted to, especially when his ears twitch as he awaits your verdict.

“Alright,” You whisper, lips curving. “Your bed definitely looked more comfortable.”

Tsu’tey grins, his eyes bright and fervent as he wraps one arm around your back and hauls you up so that you’re laying flat over the length of his body, your chest pressed to his. He’s so tall that his legs are hanging off the edge of your bed, his feet pressed flat against the floor.

It’s difficult to kiss considering you’re both smiling into each other’s mouths, but it’s also one of the sweetest and most rewarding kisses you’ve ever experienced.

“Ma’yawntutsyìp.” He murmurs into your mouth, one of his large thumbs brushes your jawline tenderly.

He’s called you that before; right before calling you odd-looking that day that you had gotten so upset and discouraged by what you thought had been unrequited interest. You had assumed it meant something similar to the little nicknames he always used, säsrätx or vrrtep, annoyance and demon.

“What does that mean?” You ask as he kisses you one last time before allowing you to bury your head sleepily in the crook of his neck.

“Precious one,” He translates, and you can feel his sharp smile against the top of your head. The warm weight of his hand comes to settle over the woven necklace around your neck, just like all those times before; this time, you feel the significance of the gesture. “It suits you, my small one.”

#tsu'tey x reader #tsu'tey #avatar way of water #avatar x reader #na'vi x reader #na'vi x human #alien x human #terato #avatar 2009

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swiftispunk · 10 months

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your summer dream | joel miller x f!reader

series announcement + intro

series masterlist | title inspo | follow (and turn on notifs for) @swiftispunkupdates for updates

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader rating: 18+ minors dni series warnings etc: [NO OUTBREAK] we'll call him dad's buddy!joel, fairly soft!joel, age difference (28/50), alcohol, food, sexual tension, smut like whoa smut (will specify with each chapter), fluff, anxiety, mentions of infidelity, mentions of divorce, jet skis????, secret relationship. no use of y/n.

series summary: fresh on the heels of the worst breakup of your life, you find an unexpected kindred spirit (and maybe a little more) in family friend joel miller, who's agreed to tag along for seven days to a tropical resort with you and your parents.

A/N: well besties. it's finally kicking off. happy summer! this series is acting as my thank you for 6.3k followers, because this series was basically co-written by my followers. ya'll took one little idea in response to an ask and fucking ran with it so hard, you pretty much gave me no choice but to write it. i have tried to include as many of your ideas in this story as possible. this series will be seven parts (excluding this prologue), one chapter for every day of your vacation. updates will not be regularly scheduled because, well...it's me. sorry. this series is not meant to be anything more than sweet, sexy, summer fun and is self-indulgent as all hell so pls just take it for what it is ☀️✈️ - love, han

*intro warnings: mentions of infidelity and breakups

Drive your car down to the sea / All the while you build a scheme / Take her hand and walk on with her / Make it real, your summer dream

This is not the vacation you'd been hoping for. Almost thirty-years-old and jetting off for seven days to a resort with your parents.

It's not that you're ungrateful–Lord knows you need a good holiday–it's just that he was also supposed to be coming. The man you'd thought had been the love of your life. The man you'd been planning to marry one day.

Apparently, he'd had other plans. Namely, fucking your best friend and dumping you on your birthday. Three years down the drain, over in an instant.

The sunny skies and balmy beaches of Costa Rica feel infinitely less enticing now, clouded by heartbreak and misery.

But you'd made a promise to yourself and you've sworn to stand by it–you won't think of him on this trip if you can help it. It's like your mom had said: maybe the time away would be good for you.

You have to admit that right now, it hardly feels that way.

What's worse, your dad had insisted his buddy come along in your ex's place. Some older guy you've met only a handful of times, supposedly going through a bit of a rough patch himself.

"Joel and his partner just separated–maybe the two of you can bond," your dad had suggested.

Yeah, right.

What could you possibly have in common with a newly single fifty-year-old contractor? He'll probably just be a miserable killjoy the whole time.

Although, you think, you'll probably be just the same.

next ->

series tag list (sign up above) @lifeiswrite @midnightr0in @darlingjeon @westeros-needs-me @bitchwitch1981 @soph55 @butiknewyoudlinger @kyloispunk @disassociation-daydreams @johnwatsn @joelsversion @serenaxpedro @maryrhodalouandted @atticrissfinch @lumoverheaven @ladyfiery47 @pedrostylez @ehopehobihope @moonlightdreamingworld @pr0ximamidnight @theduranreflex @amanitacowboy @uncassettodiricordi @thetriumphantpanda @saradika @bunnyslipperss @harrisonispunk @pedropascalfan221 @remuskinniesblog @sstarboy777 @jsengsstuff @miaispunk @sexygaypalpatine @joelmillerswifu @heartfairy @tieronecrush @morallyinept @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @he4d1nthecl0uds @kaitspamx @blkcali @love-the-abyss @huffle-punk @akah565 @wmsfornumberone @heyferris @princesapedro @milla-frenchy @keepsmeupatnight @hiddenbabynyc @kireena-crossing @tinygarbage @skajab @joelscruff

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel miller x reader #the way this series will be the complete antithesis to what I am writing with cat lol #inside of me there are two wolves #masterlist imminent also

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somewhereincairparavel · 1 month

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Dam being a Jason Grace stan in the fandom is a fucking tragedy lol. Not only do we have to deal with him being screwed over by uncle Rick, but we have to deal with the fandom hating him aswell lol, i feel like Jason Grace slander wouldnt affect me half as much if his character had gotten a happy ending. I just saw an Instagram reel about a "character's povs you skipped through'' and the comments were flooded with Jason Grace just like I'd expected lol 😭 like blud has no mercy there.

It took all my will power to not defend him under a comment that called him "homophobic", I cannot believe that comment had 4 people agreeing aswell like- did we read the same books? Did they completey skip over the coming out chapter in HOH where jason was literally the first person to tell Nico not to be ashamed of liking guys and that no one would judge him? the guy is legit one of the least problematic characters and does nothing mean, how is he even CONSIDERED in the homophobic area anyway? (he also gets slandered for being "too nice" aswell lol) so seeing him wind up in such a contradictory accusation just screams tone deaf and anti-jason bias tbh, Nico legit said he considered jason as one of his first friend/supporter (apart from his sisters) in TSATS :') its like ppl keep throwing in these false stuff bc they WANT to find a reason to hate him. (dont take this as me saying you are not allowed to hate him or something cuz that would be quite hypocritical of me, wouldnt it? i just hate that ppl make up problematic hcs of him and push them as canon, it would taint non-reader's perception of him because of false info, what if a non reader stumbled across that comment and immediately figured that jason was indeed homophobic even when he wasn't?)

Also, can we please normalize NOT judging a person for their character preferences? I like jason and i am aware that its an unpopular take, but that doesnt make me any less of a pjo fan. The fandom seems pretty aggressive when we dont follow the popular opinion. i have seen multiple ppl pretend to hate jason simply bc they WANT to fit in and "look cool", since the fandom has a tendency to use Jason as a punching bag to insult like "he's a knockoff percy" or "he thinks he's so cool but he's not". or smth, so when people do claim jason as a favourite, a huge chunk of the fandom start belittling them and go like "really? Out of all characters, why jason?" Or "Percy/Leo is better, I don't understand why you like Jason"

okay thanks for coming to my ted talk. i am aware that i was yapping here. unfair Jason Grace slander does that to me.

#Why do I always end up liking the unpopular ones #A huge chunk of the fandom doesn't respect other people's opinions either. don't get me wrong I love it here. but why.#The amount of side eyes I got when I said I liked jason smh he's fictional y'all #Like I didn't commit a crime by having him as my top 5 sheesh #Normalise not giving ppl the side eye when they say they like jason grace #jason grace #pjo #pjo series #pjo fandom #pjo toa #pjo hoo #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson #annabeth chase #hazel levesque #frank zhang #piper mclean #leo valdez

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thechekhov · 2 months

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Dungeon Meshi Quick Reacts: CH45

Slumber party!

Fair, but consider: She deserves a little murder. As a treat.

Kabru be like "IS THAT MY BACKSTORY???"

That sure is....a ship. With no one on it.

Ah, shit the Americans are here.

Two things: Toshiro being tended to like a pretty pretty princess is hilarious.

And also, the fact that they think the elves can kill Falin......... hmmm.... Pressing X to doubt.

............... oh. Laios. 😂

But also like. How was he MEANT to keep it silent? Put a little something in it? I thought since it was a magic bell you could code it to only ring when it's shaken with INTENT?

Fancy ass house.

Also, Namari...........are you hitting that yet? Both of that?

Oh, it's backstory time.

Okay one: that's fucking tragic, it sounds like the Elves are just forcing the dungeons closed with no regard for how the ecosystem compensates and what people suffer by being in close proximity......

And another thing: Kabru. Kabru, isn't that what YOU'RE after? Having all the power?

Why is this so much like that one meme where the girls at the party are looking at you.

It's the same picture.

Kabru that's. That's maybe not the way to go about it. you're going to give them MORE reasons to go in.

Nevermind the governor not being into this 'good boy, now sign' talk, Toshiro's kinda right. Ya fucked up Kabru.

No matter how far Laios runs, he cannot escape other people trying to tell him how to live his life. Poor guy. But at the same time...

Is this real? Or a red herring?

Laios' father and mother seemed to be living relatively pious lives. They clearly had a good house, but it didn't seem like they were extremely rich. Then again, perhaps he's just a cousin of royalty? Is that why his parents wanted him to have children?

They want to.... halt the growth of the dungeon? Is this another part of the natural ecosystem of things? Dungeons growing seems to point even more towards the idea that it's a gigantic, fleshpit-like creature instead of simply a construct.

Then again, constructs CAN be creatures. Like the golems.

Elves not understanding how old humans are continues to be hilarious because like.

As humans, we HAVE this same concept of variant aging. Like. Dogs. We understand that dogs live less than us, and mature a lot slower. But this is.... COMMON KNOWLEDGE. Most people do not make it into adulthood without understanding that dogs mature within 1-2 years of their birth.

The fact that elves, a species with FAR more time on their hands, who have lived alongside other races for AGES....... have STILL not got the general concept of aging down....means their education is atrocious. Or they're all not paying attention.

.......this. THIS is the most fascinating concept in this chapter.

The fallen.... turned into MONSTERS.

We know that dying inside the dungeon doesn't mean permanent death. But dying above-ground does.

We know that dying in the dungeon doesn't mean your body turns into a monster (aside from ghosts and ghouls?) ..... but dying aboveground.... DOES......?

WHAT'S THE TRUTH.

👁👁

Hm.

If Kabru and Laios fused, they could almost make one functioning human being.

Senshi just beginning to speak in the middle of his own internal monologue is so real.

...... what's going on there with the expression, buddy?

Bread.......are they STILL carrying around flour with them?! How are they getting bread?!

Also, it's awesome that the eggs are canonically hard to crack, because it makes sense that they don't break during their many fighting events.

Izutsumi really said ◉_◉

Don't tell me Laios, who is sensitive to ghosts has ALSO been seeing things?

Not gonna lie, that's highkey terrifying.

Props to that ghost that's been following Laios around, not ever giving up hope that it can bother him into acknowledging it.

And also - hey, it already saved them once! that means it's probably not evil!

That, or it's the king of the bloody dungeon. Wouldn't that be something!

#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi quick reacts #dungeon meshi liveblog #chekhov reads dungeon meshi

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seresinhangmanjake · 5 months

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The One I Want: Part 3.5 - Jake POV

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Plus size!reader

Summary: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Warnings: This chapter is written in first-person (warning you now so don't come for me later if it bothers you pretty please) Judgment related to weight. Cursing. Fluff. Angst. Eventual smut (alluded to/or other). Self-esteem issues.

Note: These Jake POV chapters are not necessary to read to understand or follow with the rest of the story!

Words: 1115 (i told ya it'd be shorter)

The One I Want Masterlist

Jake:

“If she doesn’t end up going for you, send her my way,” Javy whispers so only I can hear.

Turning sharply, I whack him upside the head. I tell myself it's mostly so Javy stops looking at you the way he is, but I know it’s also a way to release my frustration at realizing my brain is only the slightest bit faster than my instincts. My brain just barely held me back from instinctually snapping ‘mine’ the second you walked into the place and I saw the look on my friend’s face. But thankfully it did. Because you’re not mine. Not really. Not at all.

You don’t notice the smack, and Nat and Bradley have seen the same interaction enough to know it’s not genuine. Although, this time I can’t fully say that it isn’t. Their eyes find you and you blush under all four pairs; mine included, of course, since I can’t seem to manage to keep them off of you anyway. I don’t try anymore.

“H-Hi,” you say with a lick of nerves.

The look on your face screams ‘too much; too many people; too many eyes’, and I would instantly feel like an ass if it weren’t for the fact that when you agreed to meet them, you seemed happy about it. After a month and a half, you were finally willing to learn more about my life, integrate yourself into my world, and I wasn’t going to let the opportunity pass me by. But seeing you now, in the aftermath of putting my excitement above your anxiety, the guilt creeps up on me.

“It’s good to see you again,” Nat says, carefully wiping away the deer-in-headlights expression off your face. Your shoulders settle and, albeit tentatively, you smile. The same smile I thought I would’ve grown immune to by now, but no. It still kicks my heart into overdrive in a way no other has.

And that’s the problem. That’s the thing not allowing me to surrender in my efforts to open you up to me. I just want more; crave it; each day contemplate how I can coax new pieces of you to the surface.

There was a brief period in those first three days when I prayed that what I saw in you was merely a challenge. A beautiful woman who doesn’t want me is rare, as ridiculously vain as it is to say. But it’s the truth. I know the game of cat and mouse well. The playful back and forth that inevitably ends up with the woman in my bed. And damn, did I want to play. But what I had allowed myself to assume was a need to conquer grew into genuine interest. It grew so quickly, in such an all-consuming manner, that I didn’t know what to do with myself.

I still don’t.

Instead, I act on impulse, and that usually leaves me doing what I must, asking what I must, to get to know you. At times, successfully. Others, not so much. Never before has the phrase ‘one step forward, two steps back’ applied so heavily to my life.

You ease yourself into the kitchen and Javy takes it upon himself to give you his name and wrap you up in a hug; muscled arms irritatingly just barely bigger than mine squeezing you tight. It’s returned, though much less enthusiastically.

When his arms have been around you far too long for my liking, my fingers fist in the back of his shirt and tug until he releases you.

“I’m Bradley,” my final friend—potentially my new best friend if Javy keeps his shit up—offers with a wave.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” you reply.

I feel my lips curve all on their own at the rising confidence in your voice. You entered, took a moment to adjust to the room and the people occupying it, and then found your footing. A familiar adapt-to-survive skill I am slowly learning you possess.

My friends smile, then look at me. Which is fair, considering the silence filling the room is my fault. I told them not to ask you too many questions. Not to pry into your past. Not to be too curious about your plans while you’re in the area. I left them with nothing and nowhere to go.

“How was your morning,” I ask.

“Good actually. I got a job.”

I stand a little straighter. “You did?”

I know I'm coming off a little too eager at that information, but it’s the first indication you’ve given that says you intend to stick around for a while. So far, you’ve not made an effort to find friends, you haven’t bought yourself anything that can’t fit in a backpack, and, until now, hadn’t found a job. It was a developing pattern that kept me in a state of wondering if I’ll wake one morning to find you gone. But if you got yourself a job then that has to be a good sign of things to come.

You nod. “It’s not much. Just cashier at the gift shop across from the beach, but at least I’ll be able to start paying you for last month's rent.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. You don’t have to pay me,” I say. Because it’s true. Having you around, knowing I come home to someone every day, is enough. And the reality of it is, I don’t need the money.

With a raised brow, Nat smirks, and I wonder if it’s too obvious. If I’m too obvious.

“I’m paying you, Jake,” you state with an edge of harshness that has ‘two steps back’ repeating in my brain. And before I can think to argue with you, you’ve muttered something about taking a shower and have disappeared into your room.

When I look back to the small group at the side, my brows dip in irritation. Nat is still smirking. Bradley is shaking his head. And Javy’s lips are pinched tight to hold in a laugh threatening to burst.

I sigh as I lean my weight against the countertop of the kitchen island. “What?”

“‘Oh, don’t worry. You don’t have to pay me,’” Bradley mocks in a voice much higher pitched than mine.

“You’re making fun of me for being nice?”

“No, No,” he corrects, glancing between Nat and Javy before once again meeting the glare in my eyes. “It’s just interesting. It was only two months ago that you were expecting Brit to pay rent and she had your dick inside of her a few times a week. She never even got a discount, but this chick lives here for nothing.”

A beat passes.

Then Javy’s laugh finally breaks free.

---

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @rosiahills22 @oliviah-25 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @cehenyne @tngrace

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake seresin x plus size!reader #tgm #tgm fic #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin angst #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin fanfiction

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bakuhatsufallinlove · 1 month

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Omae Part 2 Electric Boogaloo

Tomorrow is the one-year anniversary of my post Omae: Complexity of Self-Expression and Intimacy in the Japanese “You.” In honor of it, I’m doing a follow-up post.

Why? Because I made two claims in that post:

“as far as I can tell, Izuku is the only person Katsuki has ever used the pronoun omae (おまえ) towards in-canon”

“Furthermore, he has only used omae towards Izuku on three occasions.”

I prefaced both with “as far as I can tell” because I had some doubts that Katsuki’s use of omae was exactly that exclusive, but I knew it was pretty damn exclusive, so I went ahead and wrote the meta anyway. And I still stand by my assessments of how he uses it and what those moments mean.

But I was wrong on both counts.

Katsuki has used omae towards people other than Izuku.

He has used omae towards Izuku on five occassions, as of chapter 409.

Of course, chapter 409 wasn’t released until months after I wrote my pronoun meta, but at the time of my post, I had in fact missed one pivotal omae directed at Izuku that occurs much earlier in the series.

I wanna talk about those two extra omae towards Izuku and who else he has used omae towards. Much like Katsuki, I am a perfectionist, so if I'm gonna revisit this topic, I'm gonna go all the way.

So, I went through 409 chapters and catalogued every single time Katsuki uses a second-person pronoun.

STRAP IN, BUCKOS.

An Exhaustive Analysis of Bakugou Katsuki’s Second-Person Pronoun Usage

These are all the “you” pronouns Katsuki has used in the manga. We’ll go over them one-by-one and talk about who he uses them for, when, and my thoughts on why.

First, a note about rudeness: In many languages, and certainly in Japanese, familiarity and rudeness go hand-in-hand. In dictionaries and on grammar websites, you’ll see advice about using a term only with “people above you” or “people equal to or below you.” In general, you are either talking up to someone (polite speech) or you are talking down to them (casual speech). Excluding outright derogatory language, talking down to someone is the same as treating them as your equal.

Talking up creates or maintains distance between parties. Casual speech, familiar terms, and directness are nuances that generally get introduced into relationships as they deepen. Basically, being close to someone gives you the “right to be rude” to them. To speak this way with a stranger or people who are your hierarchical “social superiors” is considered rude in part because you lack an established (or equal) relationship with them.

I mention this because I think some people are under the misapprehension that for Katsuki to show someone he cares, he would have to speak respectfully towards them—that is, talk up to them. That simply isn’t the case, and in fact such behavior might convey callous indifference instead, because switching from casual speech to formal speech with someone you have history with puts distance between you, pushing them away.

Instead, there are more nuanced ways to connect and affirm bonds. Katsuki using omae rather than temee, for example, is not him being more polite, he's just being less insulting. He is still talking down, and one could argue that by refusing to talk up to anyone, Katsuki treats everyone equally. I mean he is still a foul-mouthed little monster, but you know, at least he’s consistent about it.

Anyway, keep this “right to be rude” in mind.

As mentioned in my first post, temee is basically Katsuki’s default second-person pronoun. If he’s addressing someone directly and he isn’t using one of his mean nicknames, it is almost guaranteed to be this word. This graphic is the only one that is not exhaustive, featuring just the top three.

Temee is derogatory; it is often translated as “you bastard,” and even when it’s not, its presence encourages translators to slather a veneer of rudeness across the sentence as a whole. Unlike the other pronouns we’re going to talk about, there is basically no scenario where you could use temee and not come across like an asshole. You could use it with friends or family to joke around, but you’re still being an asshole, just a funny one.

And... can we just acknowledge the vast gulf between Izuku’s 62 and runner-up Todoroki’s 14? Obviously Izuku is the protagonist, so it makes sense that much of the dialogue we are shown from any character is about him or directed at him. But it’s also just really funny.

No single use of temee is particularly notable since it's so common, but it is obvious why these two are at the top of the list: Katsuki has a lot of scenes with them, and he considers them his rivals. As a result, they tend to throw him into a tizzy often.

Anta is a contraction of anata. If avoiding a “you” pronoun entirely is the most polite way to refer to someone, anata is arguably the next most polite way. It is considered polite towards someone of “equal or lower status,” but can seem distant—you hear it in commercials when the narrator has to address the audience, “you, the customer.”

Anta strips away that distance and expresses either familiarity or contempt, depending on how you want to read it, which makes it pretty fucking funny that Katsuki uses it for his mentor figures. It is worth noting that anta is significantly less offensive than his typical temee and arguably even omae. A normal person would never use anta towards their boss or teacher—or their lifelong idol, for that matter—because it is talking down, which puts them on your level. But Katsuki’s whole persona is built around rebellious superiority, so out of all the options, he affords All Might and Best Jeanist the least offensive pronoun he can stomach using. Essentially, “I’m not gonna be fuckin’ polite but god, fine, I’ll be LESS rude, I guess” while still maintaining plausible deniability.

I also wanna note that there are instances where Katsuki technically uses temee towards All Might and anta towards Izuku, because he uses them in the plural form to refer to both of them at once. It’s actually pretty interesting to see who is framed as the “primary subject” of his scolding based on which pronoun he uses.

Chapter 257

All Might is the one droning on and on, so Katsuki’s response pluralizes his All Might pronoun anta into antara, lumping Izuku in with him. Basically: “stop wasting my time and get to the point (and that goes for you, too, Deku).”

Here we’ve got him pluralizing temee and, between All Might and Izuku, it’s definitely more the Izuku pronoun. So this reads a little like “dammit Deku you kept this secret so badly I found out and then you swore me to secrecy but you’re STILL UTTER SHIT AT HIDING IT so you are MAKING MY LIFE EVEN HARDER (and you, All Might, don’t you fucking know better??)”

Aaaand now we’re at the good shit. Okay, let’s break it down.

Ochako

Chapter 36

Katsuki addresses Ochako with omae at the very start of their Sports Festival battle, and this is in fact the first time he addresses her personally with a second-person pronoun. It’s a great writing choice: unlike every other fight we’ve seen Katsuki in so far, he isn’t busting out his typical boisterous insults. Rather, what he says reads as a measured assessment of her as a threat, and omae contributes to this. Had he used temee, he might still have come across this way on the whole, but the use of omae as the first word out of his mouth—when the audience knows he uses temee—sets this moment apart even more.

The text of Uraraka vs. Bakugou isn't ambiguous: Katsuki takes Ochako seriously, immediately, when no one else does. This is of course a rejection of sexist assumptions about girls, but it is also because Katsuki is smart. Kaminari’s battle is the foil to this fight. Where Bakugou succeeds, Kaminari failed, having been too sexist, cocky, and just plain dumb to properly assess his opponent and the danger they pose to him.

I said in my first post that Katsuki’s omae towards Izuku immediately after Deku vs. Kacchan 2 reads as him addressing Izuku as an equal, and I would say the same is true here.

After Ochako tries to execute her plan and Katsuki accuses her of colluding with Izuku, he uses temee towards her. It’s his standard choice, of course, but the change feels a little loaded in hindsight. She might have been afforded a different pronoun once, but she quickly gets lumped into the temee pile at least partly due to Proximity To Deku.

Katsuki talks the most shit when he’s on the ropes—a strategic, cocky camouflage for his vulnerability. We know from his thoughts watching Todoroki vs. Midoriya that at this moment, he was pretty worried he was at his limit. But Katsuki also likes a good challenge, and he respects people who can give it to him, so in gearing up for the climax of this fight, he calls her by her surname.

The progression: omae + mean nickname → temee → surname.

In later scenes, he addresses her with his typical temee, which just goes to show you that Katsuki really picks and chooses his moments.

Or, as All Might put it:

Speaking of picking and choosing his moments, this next one was a delight to discover.

Jirou

Chapter 182

As with Ochako, this is the first time Katsuki uses a "you" towards Jirou personally. To be precise, what he uses is a sound-shifted variant of omae pronounced omee (written variously as おめえ, おめー, and おめぇ). We’ll talk about whether that means anything later.

This occurs during the school festival when Jirou belts her heart out suddenly. Katsuki thinks back to how the band had criticized his improvisation and her specifically telling him not to do it during the show. So he says out loud, to himself, “omee ga surun kai,” for which I think the funniest translation would be, “OH BUT YOU CAN DO IT, HUH??”

The official English translation is “hypocrite!” which isn’t bad, but yeah, he is being such a grumpy little sarcastic baby about it, it’s very funny. Just muttering complaints under his breath, with no actual ill-will attached. The fact that he uses omee reinforces the sense that this is not a serious complaint; it’s good-natured ribbing and contributes to the reader’s awareness that Katsuki likes and respects Jirou.

While Kaminari and Sero mischievously try to trick him into participating in the festival, Jirou earnestly asks for his help while acknowledging his skill.

Chapter 171

On top of outright asking "onegai" (please, but literally: "a request"), the verb construction she uses (やってくれたら, yatte kuretara) frames his participation as a favor; kureru is basically “to do for the benefit of someone else [often to your disadvantage or inconvenience].” And then she personally works her ass off to make their performance the very best it can be.

Later during the Joint Training Battle, Katsuki relies on her, uses a nickname for her (to her annoyance), and saves her. Kirishima and Kaminari both astutely comment that the festival band reinforced Katsuki’s trust in his classmates and his willingness to work with them towards success.

In this moment during the festival, Katsuki is letting Jirou shine, because each of them doing what they do best is what makes the performance a triumph in the first place.

But the boy’s still gonna be a bossy little tsundere about it.

4th Grade Bullies

Chapter 62

In Izuku’s flashback, little Katsuki uses omaera (plural form) towards the 4th graders who pick a fight with him.

You might be thinking, “Hang on, haven’t all the omae uses so far been for people Katsuki likes or at least respects? So why is he using it for these two?” And you’d be right, at least when it comes to present-day, teenage Katsuki using omae, because it’s no longer his default.

Flashbacks to Katsuki and Izuku’s childhood tell us that Katsuki’s default peer address as a kid was most likely omae, and that he switched to temee as he got older and became more of an obnoxious little shit. I emphasized in my first post that omae seems softer coming from Katsuki because it’s a departure from his normal way of speaking. The flashbacks show us a time when he was... kinda just a regular kid using language common among boys his age.

Still, there is a “cool tough guy” air to this moment, because omae can also come across as contemptuous—which is how Izuku uses it towards villains in present-day. Izuku uses boku for himself and kimi for peers, the combination of which tend to be seen as kind of soft and boyish, rather than macho and cool. Little Katsuki uses the boastful pronoun ore for himself and omae towards the bullies, who are both older and therefore technically "above" him.

So Izuku marvels at Kacchan, who talks big and tough like a grownup. Kacchan who can do anything, who stands his ground, fights to win, and invokes the heroic ideals of All Might.

Izuku

Chapter 9

The first time we see Katsuki call Izuku by his name is when we learn the origins of the nickname Deku. It also happens to be the first time we see Katsuki address someone with something other than temee. This scene shows us a glimpse of what their relationship looked like before it totally fell apart: before Katsuki nicknamed him Deku, he called him Izuku. And before Katsuki started hurling insults and screaming “you bastard” (temee!) at Izuku all the time, he used a different “you” word for him, too. Little Katsuki addressed him as a little boy would address a peer or a friend.

It made me wonder… is the aftermath of Deku vs Kacchan 2 the first time Katsuki has addressed him as an equal since they were little kids?

And, furthermore, little Katsuki uses the sound shifted variant, omee.

You might be surprised to learn that temee itself is a sound shifted variant of temae (手前, てまえ). Temae literally means “before the hand” and historically, it was a humble first-person pronoun, meaning “me, who stands before you.” Omae (お前) literally means “the one before [me],” it was historically very polite and only used for extremely high-class people. Somewhere along the way, temae became a second-person pronoun like omae, and both started to be perceived as quite rude.

Tough guy Japanese speech patterns are epitomized by sound shifts and bitten off words. Supposedly, this dialect originates in Tokyo’s historic Shitamachi area, which is characterized as rough and working class in sharp contrast to the wealthy, high class Yamanote area.

So, does omee mean something different than omae? Maybe, but not always. Does it mean something different when someone says “Thank ya” rather than “Thank you”? Or when someone says “y’all” rather than “you all”? Not exactly, but… does it feel different? It can.

Little Katsuki’s sound shift links this moment to our last example:

Chapter 409

As you acquire language, you develop a personal relationship with it informed by your experiences. More than just dictionary definitions, you gain cultural and emotional associations, and that impacts how you interpret media and other people. I don’t think anyone can say that omee definitively conveys something different than omae, but I do know that when I personally read Katsuki use it in 409, the shift feels like casual fondness. Like letting down your guard. A reassurance spoken softly. It somehow feels just a bit softer than if he had enunciated omae.

Years ago, Katsuki used it to tease Izuku about how he can’t do anything. And four hundred chapters later, he uses it to say “I won’t get in your way anymore.”

You should read pikahlua's really, really good meta about what this line means.

Whether it was intentional on Horikoshi’s part or not, I think it is a meaningful callback. These are the only two times Katsuki has ever used omee towards Izuku. It emphasizes how he has changed, yes, but it also ties in the context of his own past "uselessness" and how he has surpassed it, that he won't ever again be "a weakness others can exploit" to get to Izuku. But also, as pika says:

(And I read that he’s ready to let Izuku be the main character.)

The only other time Katsuki has used omee is towards Jirou, when he affectionately teased her for being a hypocrite while also making sure she got her time in the limelight.

And what does Katsuki think in the next chapter?

“Izuku, do your best.”

Izuku gets his time in the limelight. They each brought their own strengths to this final battle, and Katsuki has held up his end. He wasn’t a burden, he didn’t hold Izuku back—he came back from the dead, saved their hero, and took out All For One. Now Izuku has to do what he does best.

A lot of the things I said in this post simply reiterate the meaning of the text itself, and that's because the nuances in Katsuki’s dialogue support the narrative. They reinforce what the story tells us about him and his relationships, and I think that's pretty amazing.

#bkdk #translations #meta #mha 9 #mha 36 #mha 62 #mha 171 #mha 182 #mha 202 #mha 257 #mha 409 #mha manga spoilers

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macfrog · 8 months

Text

la petite mort sex on fire chapter four

bonsoir my children. it's your cool slutty daddy, ceo!joel, back for round two of paris trip. please enjoy, i hope this one causes less confusion but just as much heart failure as last chapter. love u guys long time. literally SO much. 💘✨💓

pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader

summary: you spend your second day in paris being spoiled by joel, who buys you anything you set eyes on. you’ve a treat of your own in mind as a thank-you, later on

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) another fucking confusing flashback, age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), cursing, workplace relationship, imbalanced power dynamic, semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), orgasm denial, more obscene spending, sexy french speaking, sugardaddy!joel, BIG flirting, alcohol consumption, sexy lingerie, lapdance, daddy kink, praise kink, unprotected piv sex, titty appreciation, assplay, double penetration, dom!joel, softdom!joel, ripping of expensive lingerie (rip), overstimulation, creampie, aftercare!joel, angst, themes of abandonment, fluff in the end i'm a romantic at heart

word count: 6.2k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

“All mine?” he asks, pushing inside. He’s going slow. He’s making you answer him first. “Y-yeah,” you whine, head falling forward into the bedsheets. “All – yours.” “Spoiled, ain’t I? Such a pretty little pussy all to myself. You sure you don’t wanna share with anyone?” “No, daddy. Just – want – you.”

The late afternoon sun has dipped behind the clouds. The wind’s picked up, too. You’re standing on the terrace of your suite, elbows propped on the metal railing, watching the light slowly drain from the sky, and melt into tiny twinkling headlights on the roads below.

Paris stares straight back at you. Melancholy, in this light. A little faded, worn, a washed gray as she loses her fight with the slow-setting sun. Your eyes trace the skyline, jumping from buildings to streetlights, following birds in the distance as they loop and soar over the city. Free. Held down to nothing, and no one.

When you close your eyes, he’s on the couch beside you. Blue-eyed stare cloudy, eyes puffy and red with tears he’s doing everything to hold back. Calling you sweetheart, telling you we can work through this. He’s got your bare fingers in his, thumbs running across your knuckles, rubbing circles around the empty space on your third finger. You have an impulse to stand up and walk out. You think you might follow through with it.

You don’t even hear him come in, don’t hear him call your name. Only feel when his arm snakes around your waist and he turns you to face him. Your eyes flutter back open.

“Hey,” Joel says, leaning back to look you up and down. “Nice robe.”

His fingers toy with the belt, thumb running across the soft terrycloth.

“You smell like whiskey,” you mutter, hands resting on his chest. You take a deep breath, pushing the relief you feel now that he’s back, down to the pit of your stomach. And then you finally look him in the eye. “How was Jean-Marc?”

Joel shrugs. “Same as usual. Wants to meet you.”

“You mentioned me?”

He bypasses your question. “Said I’d check with you, but he wants to have us for breakfast tomorrow.”

You nod. “Sounds like a nice guy.”

Joel grumbles, his lips tighten, and he looks out over the view behind you. You tilt your head and his hands take yours, dropping them to your side. His eyes fall low, past the tie he was just messing with.

“You gettin’ ready to go?”

“I was about to, yeah,” you reply, breathing a laugh when he starts to kneel in front of you. “Joel.”

“Mhm?” he asks, but he’s not listening, is he? His hands run up your legs, starting at your knees, and push the edges of your robe apart the higher they go.

“We – gotta – Joel,” you sigh, head rolling back, hands gripping the railing.

Joel’s lips part on your inner thigh, his tongue runs along your skin, trailing northward. His hands precede, pushing under your robe now to cup your naked ass, when he lifts his chin and glances up.

“Nothin’ on under it, baby,” he whispers, tsking. “’m I gonna do with you?”

“We have–” you shudder when his fingers move between your legs, “–to go get ready.”

“So go.”

Fucker.

You lean back against the glass, eyes quickly scanning the hotel in front of you, searching the neighboring windows for any prying eyes, but in the slow-moving blanket of dusk, mixed with your will to care quickly depleting, you find none.

Your attention draws back to Joel, whose lips run dangerously close to your center.

“Open, baby,” he says, and you don’t think about it. Your body just does what he tells it to.

Your legs fall open, head lulls to one side, fingers move through his hair. His jaw lowers, breath gently tickling your soft skin, and then his lips cup around your mound.

You breathe a sigh of relief. Which quickly morphs into a moan, open-mouthed and broken, when Joel’s tongue sweeps over your clit.

“There,” you whisper, a little more serious than you intended, “do that – again.”

He obeys, wet tongue licking you again while his hands pull your thighs over his shoulders. Your weight shifts onto his body, back arching as he sucks on the sensitive bud.

Your hips roll, needing him a little more and a little further south. And he hears you, again. He takes a hand off of your leg, middle and ring fingers joining together to push up between your folds and inside you, dragging a whine from your lips.

“Yeah,” you moan, feeling yourself driving into his mouth and fucking yourself on his hand at the same time.

“Taste so sweet, pretty girl,” he mumbles, mouth preoccupied.

Your head falls back, body slung over the balcony, thighs spreading ever so slightly to have more of him on more of you. And then your head starts to dizzy, your body hums in pleasure, your cunt starts to throb.

But before it goes any further, he’s pulling away.

His lips leave first. Then he draws his hand from between you, sucks his fingers clean and stands. Is he fucking –

“– serious?” you ask, jolting back to life.

He smirks, tongue pushing around his cheeks. “Hurry up ‘n get ready. I wanna go down to the bar for a drink before the car comes.”

And then he’s turning on his heel, striding back inside.

“And what about me?”

“What about you?” he calls over his shoulder.

Your hands hit your thighs with a slap. “Fucking…sadist,” you hiss after him, following him into the warmly lit living room of your suite and down the hallway to the bedroom. Trying to ignore the ache between your legs which only grows worse the more you move.

“I’ll take good care of you later, angel.”

He sits back against the dresser at the foot of the bed, nods toward the black dress you’d laid out on the mattress an hour ago.

“Go on.”

“Go on what?”

“Show me the dress I paid three grand for on you, instead of it laying on the fuckin’ bed.”

You roll your eyes and storm by him, grabbing the black fabric, and lock yourself in the bathroom.

“’n don’t you think about finishin’ yourself!” Joel calls through the door.

“Fuck you!” you throw back, hearing his cocky laugh echo around the room.

You untie your robe in front of the mirror, letting it drop off of your shoulders into a pool of white cloth at your feet. Your eyes flit down your naked body – scanning from your shoulders over your breasts, around your tummy and down your thighs. You slip the black material over your head – a little stretch in it, just enough to mold around your body – and tug it down until it sits comfortably on your thighs.

The smooth skirt sits perfectly on your hips, curving around your ass and pulling in at your waist. You adjust the thin straps, fixing your breasts into place above a cut-out, just revealing enough. Backless, of course, straps crisscrossing over your skin.

It's skimpy, and it’s sexy, and it’s enough to make you look expensive as fuck and also make Joel want to rip it off of you the second you two make it back to the suite.

Enough to make him want to rip it off you before you’ve even left the suite, going by his reaction when you step out of the bathroom. He catches you in the mirror whilst he buttons his shirt, and turns, mouth falling open, eyes dancing all across your body.

You wordlessly sit, slip your feet into the heels you’d chosen, and fish the diamond-encrusted jewelry Joel had bought you from its box – pull the necklace around your neck, clip the earrings into place, and push the bracelets over your wrist. Then, you sling your jacket over your arm, and stand.

“I’m ready.”

“You…” His eyes scan down you again, settling on your chest for a couple seconds. “Yeah, baby. Give me five minutes.”

----------

The hotel bar reflects perfectly the intimidating grandeur of your suite, despite being a small room. It’s intimate, and pleasant, lit in a warm glow, and as you stroll in on Joel’s arm beneath a huge, ornate chandelier, you feel a smile pull across your lips. You’re not fucking sure why.

He leads you over to two heavy leather stools, pulling one out and waiting for you to hop up on it before he sits beside you. He orders two glasses of red wine, and the waiter craftily pours a small drop into one glass, setting it down in front of you and waiting for you to take a sip and approve before he pours the rest.

“Pétrus,” the waiter says, focusing intently on filling Joel’s glass. “Most expensive wine in France.”

You shoot Joel a look, but he’s already lifting his glass, glint in his eye. You hesitantly pick yours up and bump it into his, taking another sip.

“Good?” Joel asks, licking his lips.

You nod. “A little too good.”

He laughs. Then he nods at the waiter, who smiles, turns to you, and winks.

You smile back, a little embarrassed. “Merci beaucoup.”

As the waiter leaves you both, Joel turns, a look on his face you’ve never seen before. “Nice accent,” he says.

You scoff. “I hope it’s a nice accent, I studied it for six years.”

“Studied French?”

You nod.

“When?”

“High school, and then all through college.”

“How did I not know that about you?”

“It’s on my resume,” you say into your wine glass, “which I now know you didn’t read when you hired me.”

“Didn’t have to,” Joel replies. “I took one look at your pretty face ‘n decided you had the job.”

Him and his quick fucking wit. He almost catches you blushing, but you save it by shaking your head, and looking at the striped-wall room around you. There’s a framed picture of a horse on the wall behind Joel. Two men sit in animated conversation on the velvet couch below it, one of them clutching a wine that’s about to spill over.

When your eyes drift back to Joel, his are fixated elsewhere.

“Oh, be less obvious, Joel,” you mutter, corners of your mouth twitching.

“Can’t help it,” he finally draws his gaze from your chest, “they look so good. That dress is…” He shakes his head.

“You chose well.”

“Say somethin’ French to me.”

“Uh, no.”

“Uh, yeah. Tell me I chose well in French.”

“Tell me how the meeting went.”

Joel sits back, pushing air out of his cheeks. “Can’t do that.”

“Then no French.”

“Baby, c’mon. Just for me.”

You shake your head, pouting your lip. “Nope.”

Joel pleads a few more times, promises he’ll buy you more things, promises he’ll order more wine, even promises he’ll fuck you in the bathroom right now if you’ll just say one sentence in French to him.

You don’t relent.

Not until you’re a couple more wines deep, leaning into one another, your knees between his, pointing out other guests in the room and conjuring make-believe backstories for them.

“That one,” you say, hushed, shoulder brushing off of Joel’s, “in the corner, by the lamp. He’s waitin’ for a date, a Tinder date, who–”

Joel snorts. “A Tinder date?”

“–a Tinder date, who used photos of Cindy Crawford on her profile.”

Joel’s head tips back with laughter, his hand steadies himself on the bar. “If Cindy Crawford ends up walkin’ in here, you’re gonna be real sorry.”

You lean into his shirt, giggling into the cotton. When you lift your head, the two of you quietening again, you look into his eyes.

Blurry around the edges, a little too much wine in your system, you whisper: “Kiss me.”

Joel’s head cocks. He leans in, and you lift your jaw. His lips part, breath hot over your red lips, and he says, “You’re gonna get us into trouble, darlin’.”

“Je m’en fous,” you reply.

“Monsieur,” a voice from your right breaks between you, “your car is outside.”

Joel straightens up, clears his throat, and thanks the waiter with another nod. His palm runs along the bar toward your arm, which he takes, rubbing his thumb gently over your skin, and he nods again toward the doors.

----------

Dinner was as fucking extreme as all of this has been. Food you’d never seen before, a menu you could barely translate even with language experience. Waiters who arrived at your table if you so much as looked up at them.

And more wine. A lot more wine.

You both stumble back into the suite, arms linked, laughter chorusing against the beige walls. Joel keeps a vice grip on your hand as you spin around him, wrapping you up in his arms when you’re close enough, and runs a thumb across your cheek when you’ve stopped giggling.

“That was fun,” he says, and you nod.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “For all of it. I don’t even know what to say.”

He shakes his head in response. “You’re my guest.”

“Didn’t have to be,” you say, “could’ve brought Martha.”

“Oh, yeah, Martha. She’d be a fuckin’ hoot.”

He lets go of you, your laughter picking back up, and you split off. Joel wanders over to the minibar, and you…you wander off down the hall.

You’ve something in mind.

Safely in the bedroom, you slink over to your case and lift the bag you’d hidden in there earlier. You sneak into the bathroom, closing the door as softly as possible, and whip your little black dress over your head. You turn back to the mirror.

Same reflection as before. Same naked body. A little faded, a little unfocused, jewelry catching the light like stars in the night sky, but the same.

You reach into the white bag, like it’s a lucky draw, and lift out the soft black lace. One by one, you add each little piece – the bra cups your breasts, lifting them just the right amount. The panties sit on your hips, garter belt just above, hooked onto thigh-high, lace top stockings. And finally, the robe.

You tie it loosely at your waist, leaving it just open enough to reveal the balconette bra underneath. One last hazy look in the mirror, and you tumble back out into the bedroom and over to the door.

Your fingers clutch the gold handle, shaking a little. The cold metal bites against your skin, hot with adrenaline and determination. You twist, pulling gently on the door, and wander back to the living room.

The lights are still out, the room dark against the sparkling cityscape. There’s soft music playing, some seventies soul stuff. He’s on the balcony. The sliding doors open wide, sheer curtains swaying gently in the night breeze. His silhouette stands black against the glittering Eiffel Tower in front of him. He’s holding a whiskey.

You slip out from behind the door and let it close over gently, walking slowly across the soft carpet toward him. He can’t have heard you, you’re being too quiet, but he turns anyway, and spots you in the middle of the room.

His eyes rake down your figure, mouth falling agape. Whiskey almost spilling over from how limp his arms fall.

“Baby…” he whispers.

You take another step forward. So does Joel. Your hand reaches for the back of one of the chairs, tucked neatly under the dining table. You drag it along the carpet, setting it just in front of you, facing him, and stand back.

“Want you to sit.”

Joel nods, a voiceless Okay sneaks past his lips, and he sits back in the chair, placing the whiskey at his feet.

The song fades into a steady love song, string orchestra echoing in the background, slow, sultry. The smooth vocals fill the room, quiet and relaxing, and push you nearer him, rounding the back of the chair.

Your hands run over Joel’s shoulders as you curve around to face him, and slot in between his parted thighs. Watching as his eyes shift up and down your figure. Watching as his breath hitches, his chest shuddering anytime you move.

You’re ignoring the rise and fall of your own chest; nerves and desire and complete fucking disbelief at what you’re doing all fighting to break through. Your stomach is flipping, pulse jerking every time your eyes cross paths with Joel’s.

You nudge his legs open wider, lift his wrists, and place his hands on your waist. His fingers pull on the silk belt, loosening your robe until he’s slipping it over your shoulders, revealing every inch of lace and strap of satin to his lust-blown eyes.

“This all for me?” he asks, fucking…wonderstruck. His fingers dance along the garter belt, dipping where it clips onto your stockings.

You cock your head in a shrug. “You paid for it.”

He smiles. As if it’s Christmas and you just gave him the gift at the top of his wish list. And then you bend your knees, lowering between his thighs and dragging your hands down his front, stopping by his stiffening crotch as you go.

Joel hisses through clenched teeth, spurring you on. You palm him through his trousers, never touching his zipper, only letting him go so far as grinding his hips into your hands, before your palms slip down to his knees and you push yourself up.

Joel meets you halfway, leans forward to let your lips ghost across his. Your back arched, knees digging into the plush carpet, you trail your tongue from his chin down his bearded jawline, stopping when you reach the collar of his shirt.

And then you stand again, taking his hands and replacing them on your body. Anywhere on your fucking body. Feeling him on you is like feeling the soothing flicker of the fire after a walk in the freezing cold, and when his palms aren’t pressing against your ribcage, his fingers aren’t running between your thighs, that bitter cold bites back.

Joel hums, still taking you in through glassy eyes. “So…fuckin’ beautiful, babygirl.”

In response, you lift your knees, placing them one by one on either side of his hips. You settle against his body and push him back in the chair.

Your clothed heat lowers onto his waist, lace running across the rough fabric of his trousers, forcing a choked moan from your lips at the contact. Your skin alight, nerves burning with excitement and arousal, the slightest touch only fuels the fire more.

You grind down on him, hips rocking in time with the music. Letting his hands hold you around your back, letting him feel any part of you he fucking wants. His fingers knead roughly into your round ass, and he bucks up against your core.

You hover over him, running a hand from your stomach over your chest, stopping to squeeze your tits through your bra. And then back down again, to slip over the lace of your panties and relieve the tension there even if only for a second before you’re feeling down your thighs.

You link your arms back around Joel’s shoulders. “You gonna pay me back?” you whisper, head lowering to bury into his neck.

“No idea what you’re talkin’ about,” he slurs back.

You suck a mark into the hot skin, breathing against his pulse, “Think you do, daddy. You owe me one.”

His head rolls, bass of his laughter vibrating against your lips. “So fuckin’ slutty, darlin’. You want it that bad?”

“Mhm,” you mewl, lips still tight against his neck, fingers slowly unbuttoning his shirt lower and lower.

Joel told Martha he needed you here only to keep him right. Make sure he got everywhere on time, make sure things ran smoothly. Drop off drycleaning, pick it up before he had appearances. Get him pastries from that patisserie he loves around the corner for breakfast. There’s an empty suite downstairs that he made her book for you – an almost three grand per night suite that you both knew the entire fucking time you’d never set foot in. All to keep up with the story.

The story that you’re here strictly on PA duty. Seeing him off in cars, making sure he gets back to the hotel at night. And that’s it. Not buying lingerie with his card, and putting it on for him, and mounting him in the living room of his suite. Not letting him slip your panties to the side and run his cock through your folds, balcony doors wide open, moans escaping out into the late Parisian night.

But now his hands are on you, really on you; strong, wide hands, slipping around your waist, pressing down on the lace of your lingerie, massaging the softest parts of your body and scooping under your ass to align you to his length.

And you’re letting him.

Your hands are sifting through his hair as he breathes you in, his nose buried between your breasts. Your back arches when he finally enters you, giving you what you need most in the form of his thick cock pushing up into your warm cunt.

Like there’s nothing new, or weird, or different. Like this is all you know how to do; all you’ve ever known about him. You’re not in the office; he’s not your boss. He doesn’t tell you to shred files or organize his schedule.

This is what he does. This. He asks things of you with his hands and you fold every time. He runs his lips along the curve of your breasts and peels the delicate fabric of your bra down to wrap his mouth around your nipple, flick his tongue across it until your head rolls back and you’re moaning his name to the ceiling.

“Make yourself cum, baby,” Joel breathes against your hot skin.

His tongue is swirling around your nipple. Teeth grazing the pointed bud. He’s grinning to himself as he does it. He’s fucking lapping this up.

“So pretty when you’re wrapped around me.”

And then his fingers are toying with the clasp of your bra, and as you sink down over and over on his cock, he lets the cupped lace fall to the floor, lips instantly returning to their place on your tits.

You hold his head there, looking down and watching while you slowly bounce on his cock as he kisses, caresses, sucks.

The pleasure boiling between your legs starts to spill over, your body unable to take much more without releasing. And when Joel mumbles against your skin, “Can feel you, darlin’, squeezing me so tight,” you let go.

Your orgasm, nearly four hours in the making, rocks through your body in tidal waves, throwing your head back. Joel’s arms keep you safe on his lap as you writhe, gasping and moaning his name until you can think straight again.

When you come back to, he lifts you up. Carries you like you’re made of diamonds through to the bedroom and lays you down on the soft mattress, calling you angel, telling you you’re the prettiest fuckin’ girl he’s ever seen.

He dips his fingers and traces them along your panties, feeling the mess you just made, humming in amusement. He asks again if this is all for him and when you moan out a desperate Yeah, daddy, he tells you he’s gonna make you cum again.

He takes your waist and flips you over, propping you up on your knees in front of him. He peels the white shirt from his shoulders, tossing it somewhere in the dark room, and asks if that’s what you want – to cum again. Yeah, daddy.

And when he asks who this tight little pussy belongs to, leaning forward to align with your wet mess of a cunt, your thighs spreading to accommodate the size of him, every fucking nerve in your body on fire: You, daddy.

“All mine?” he asks, pushing inside. He’s going slow. He’s making you answer him first.

“Y-yeah,” you whine, head falling forward into the bedsheets. “All – yours.”

“Spoiled, ain’t I? Such a pretty little pussy all to myself. You sure you don’t wanna share with anyone?”

“No, daddy. Just – want – you.”

Every fucking time. Every mindless, depraved time, you do it for him. Only for him.

You cum again on his cock before he’s even five thrusts in. His words send you hurtling over the edge by themselves; the massive dick burying itself between your legs is just a bonus – and something to let your walls clamp around when your back arches, chest pushes into the mattress, and your orgasm floods over you.

Joel rocks his hips slowly as you come down, cunt swollen and almost agony. His hands run from your thighs up around the globe of your ass, massaging gently. You push back, wanting more pressure from his hands, and his fingers slip against your tight hole.

You jut forward with a moan. A moan Joel knows all too well.

“Easy, easy.” He holds you steady, replacing his fingers against your asshole, pressing delicately. “You like that?”

“Fuck,” you breathe, “mhm.”

“Yeah?”

You’re nodding, though you know he can’t see you in the dark.

“Baby?”

“Yeah,” you choke out. Desperate. Depraved.

He lifts his hand and spits; you feel a bead of saliva dribble down your ass, only to be collected by the pads of his fingertips and dragged back up. Smeared over the ring of your ass, massaged into the sensitive skin around it.

“Daddy…” you moan, hips gyrating.

“’s a good girl,” Joel replies, “just relax, darlin’, you do that for me?”

You can hear in his voice he’s focusing. Eyes glued on your ass, watching as you open up around his first finger, pushing slowly inside.

Your whole body freezes as he enters you. Breath cuts short in your throat. Your mouth falls open, throat constricted around a moan.

“Breathe, babygirl.”

And you do. Well, it’s more of a gasp, a broken whine, and then a long, needy sigh, curled up at the end like it’s a request – a plea for Joel to keep going.

It’s tight. It feels…tender, and overwhelming, and good. More than good. Your hips move backward, pushing onto Joel; a swelling feeling overcoming you, the more of him you take.

“Good girl…” he whispers again.

You’re as fucking shocked as he is that you’re letting him do it – letting him slip inside both holes at once, exploring one while keeping the other content with lazy thrusts.

“Think you can take it, baby?”

“Yeah, daddy,” you tell him, body urging him to fuck you again.

So, he does. His cock picks up speed, finger knuckle-deep, curling around inside your ass. You’re gripping the bedsheets, whimpering softly into them, feeling your stomach tighten as your third orgasm begins to rise.

“Keep – doing – that,” you utter as his hips collide with yours, his thick finger picking up pace ever so slightly.

“Such a dirty girl. So fuckin’ dirty for me. You do this for all of ‘em, baby?”

The laugh you breathe answers his question. No, you don’t fucking do this – for anyone. You didn’t know until five minutes ago this was something you were into. It’s Joel. He’s the only one who could convince you – whether through his words, his expressions, or just his fucking body – to –

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you whine.

“Know you are, pretty girl,” Joel says, “let me feel you. Cum all over me.”

Your body collapses when your high takes over. Electricity thrumming through you, contracting around Joel’s cock and his finger. He coos you through it, whispers words of praise and filth in your ear until you’re no longer screaming, no longer able to hold yourself up.

He slowly removes his finger, soaked with his spit. You whine as it leaves you, missing the feeling, but it’s not long before his hands are on you again, flipping you back over.

He drags the clothes from his legs and pushes you up the mattress, slotting between your hips, one hand coming down to grip the lace front of your panties. He rips it, tearing the material off of your body in one motion.

You gasp, equal parts aroused as you are fucking outraged. You liked those panties. You wanted to keep ‘em.

“Fuck, Joel!”

He pushes back against you, burying his face in the crook of your neck to dot kisses along your skin.

“Buy you more, baby.”

“This whole getup,” you moan, “it cost you a grand.”

He lifts his head. “Well, in that case,” he kisses your collarbone, “buy you ten more.”

Your eyes roll back and your head follows, sinking deep into the sheets under your body. You’re sure you know where this is going, what he’s about to ask of you. You’re not sure you can give it to him. Three orgasms deep, you can barely feel when he’s massaging your sex, never mind lining his cock to it and pushing the tip inside.

“One more, angel,” he utters, looking down to guide himself through your glistening folds. “Just one more.”

“Can’t, daddy,” you whimper, but he pushes your thighs up, bending your knees. It’s borderline painful, the stretch you feel when he’s barely an inch inside.

“Yes, you can. Know you can.”

He could fuck you and cum himself without asking you to – and you’d be okay with it. You know it. He knows it. Just a few tight, wet thrusts and he’d be coming undone inside you. But he wants to do it together. Loves the way you feel when you tighten around him, squeeze him, draw his release out of him. Loves the way your voices sound together, the way you grip onto him and pull him flush against your body.

And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it, too. The way he looks when he’s deep inside you, eyes shut, focused on nothing except the pretty noises you make and the sweet way you wrap around him, warm and snug. So you let him take you to the edge again, throw your arms around him, and fall.

Hard.

The shock of it surges through you, stars burst across your vision. You drive your nails into his shoulders, scream out into the night, moans mixed with curses and gasps and – fuck it – cries of daddy loud enough that the thought of a noise complaint at your door floats through your mind.

Joel lets out a deep groan when he cums, filling your tight cunt with his seed, face still buried in your neck. Your legs untense, thighs slip down his waist and onto the bed, your arms unlink from around his neck.

“Fuck, baby,” he moans into your skin.

You’re panting, chest lifting against Joel’s. He pushes into the mattress and rolls off of you, dropping in a heap to the bed at your side. You lay like that for a while, waiting for the fluttering feeling to subside, waiting for any feeling to come back to your body.

Joel pushes off of the bed and dips into the bathroom, still groaning anytime he moves. Water runs for a couple minutes, a gentle whirring as he cools his face and washes up, and then he’s back in the bedroom, sinking into the bed beside you.

He props himself up on his elbow and runs a hand across your damp forehead, unsticking your hair from your face. Intimate, vulnerable. You’ve slept together four times now, and this is the closest you’ve felt to him.

You push down an ache, different to the one he just satisfied – four times over. No, this is deeper. Somewhere more hidden. An ache for him to hold you, run his hands down your back until your body feels like yours again. An ache for him to take you in his strong arms and keep you still, keep you steady.

An ache that feels…dangerous. An ache you want to disappear. Now.

“You okay?” Joel asks, and you nod.

He studies you for a while, looking up and down your body, smiling to himself. This isn’t something either of you are going to forget for a while.

“What’s this?”

Joel takes gentle hold of the gold chain around your sweat-glistening neck, running it between his fingers until he’s holding one half of a broken heart.

“Notice you wearin’ it all the time.”

You take a deep breath before replying, watching as he looks at it intently in his hand. “My mom has the other half. It makes up a heart. We got ‘em when I was sixteen, right after…”

Joel’s eyes drift up to yours when your sentence crumbles. His soft gaze encourages you to continue.

“…right after my dad left.”

He almost winces.

You’d always hated Wednesdays. Wednesdays meant Math, and Math meant two hours of sitting in total confusion, dodging your teacher’s requests for answers and counting down the minutes until class ended.

But your dad told you that you should do well in it, so you were trying. For him.

One Wednesday, Miss Pepperman handed out the results of the previous week’s test. You’d scored well, maybe not as good as some of the others, but decent by your own standards. You snuck the test paper into your bag to take back home, show your dad. Make him…proud.

When you rounded the corner to your street, his car was in the drive, trunk wide open. Suitcases inside. You caught him leaving as you wandered by the beat-up Toyota.

Your mom wants you in the house, he’d said, a cardboard box of files in his clutches.

You tried to ask what the fuck was going on, but he’d yelled at you and thrown the box into his back seat. And then you brought up the test paper, twisted around to fish it out of your bag, like some stupid C would convince him to stay. He yelled louder, and you disappeared inside like a spooked cat.

Your mom was on the couch, face in her hands. She lifted her head, cheeks stained with mascara and tears. As you sat down beside her, you heard the engine of his car roll away. You never saw him again.

You don’t tell Joel all of this. He doesn’t need to know, and he doesn’t ask. Telling him about the C in Math risks telling him about the way your dad looked at you when you held up the crumpled paper, and that risks telling him about everything you’ve ever held back from saying to anyone, for fear of seeing that same bored, disappointed expression.

It feels like a hand you’re not quite ready to play just yet. An ace or two missing, only a couple of cards off of feeling confident enough to show him.

Instead, you shrug, and say, “That was…thirteen years ago now. And we just never take ‘em off. It’s like our little promise to, like…stay together, or whatever.”

He nods, letting the necklace rest back on your naked chest.

There’s something in the air between you. Quiet, unassuming. An understanding, though you’re not sure what of. But it feels comfortable, which you weren’t expecting when he asked the question. Nobody knows much about you and your dad – not even your closest friends. And here you are, naked and exhausted, letting the words tumble out to none other than your boss.

But he’s so blasé about it, so unperturbed by it that, if he hadn’t been the one to ask himself, you could mistake it for disinterest. He just listens, nods, and lets it pass over. Lets you drop it, when you’re done talking about it.

For the second time tonight, this time a little more sober but a little less guarded, you say, “Kiss me.”

And this time, he doesn’t ask you to speak French. Doesn’t make any witty quip, doesn’t warn you you’re walking dangerous territory. Doesn’t even hesitate, not for a beat. Just leans in, cups your cheek with one hand, and presses his lips to yours.

Warm, sweaty, almost quivering lips. Soft, and kind, and safe. You melt into him, wrapping both hands around his wrist, shutting your eyes and pretending just for a moment that you’re not teetering along a knife edge right now.

You pull back, losing your balance on the tightrope you’re walking, and Joel’s hand slowly drops from your face. His eyes ask if you’re okay, and you nod. I’m fine. This is fine.

“Alright,” he says, sitting up with a sigh. “You want a drink?”

You nod again. “Water, please.”

He strokes your thigh once and walks out of the room, leaving you in the quiet dark by yourself.

You bring your fingertips up to your eyes. Exhale deeply into the palms of your hands. Think about what just happened, and then tell yourself not to think much about it. Think about that fucking twinge in the bottom of your stomach, the one that felt like…yearning. And then tell yourself, fucking – order yourself not to read too much into it, or you’ll drive yourself up the wall.

Because the truth of it is: you’ve one more full day in Paris, and you highly suspect that what happened here tonight, is gonna happen all over again tomorrow. And that leaves room for that yearning feeling to come back. Resurface, like a silent predator in murky waters.

That won’t happen tomorrow. It can’t happen tomorrow.

You stand and throw that white terrycloth robe over yourself, heading for the living room.

----------

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gilbirda · 2 months

Text

Friendly neighborhood vigilante. Chapter 23

BatmanxDP crossover. JasonxJazz

[Read on AO3] [Read on FF.net]

Based on this post

First chapter || << Previous chapter || Next chapter >>

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“Sorry about that,” Jazz was as chirpy and radiant as she usually was when she found them in the breakfast room. “Danny’s extra cranky. Probably haven't slept in a few weeks.”

“Everything okay?” Bruce had to ask.

Jazz's smile was bright as she sat down next to Jason, who was finishing his toast. “Yeah! I feel better than ever!”

Right. The vials.

“I meant your brother.” Bruce’s eyebrow twitched with the thousand questions he surely wanted to ask.

Jazz looked up from where she was reaching for the toast and some strawberry jam. “Yeah? He’s sleeping. He’ll be fine.”

Dick chuckled and leaned in. “What Bruce meant to say,” he side eyed his father, who breathed in relief and continued drinking his coffee, “is what was that about? Things seemed pretty heated between Danny and you.”

Jason gave him a warning look, but otherwise didn’t react.

On the other hand, Jazz snorted. “Ghosts’ love language is fighting.” She shook her head. “He wouldn’t actually hurt me.”

Jason’s eyebrows went to his hairline, and very wisely chose to bite back a few questions. Also Jazz’s personality was slowly starting to make sense. He was sure that once he knew everything he wouldn’t need to feel this confused.

“Could have fooled me.” Dick commented instead. “Danny really didn't like Jason.”

“He didn’t—” Jazz tensed. She finished chewing and forced her shoulders to relax. “Is not that— I mean. I think Danny will like him, it’s just—”

“Is this about your exes?” Her boyfriend asked softly, reaching for an apple and putting it on her plate. She quietly thanked him.

“Yes and no. I…” she blushed, “I don’t have the best track record.”

Bruce cleared his throat. “Did you— Uh.” He realized too late he could sound like he was interrogating her. “I apologize, but I need to ask. The report Danny mentioned—?”

“Yeah. That.” With a tired sigh, Jazz put her knife down. “David. He… Well.”

“That’s the one that cheated on you, right?”

She nodded at Jason. “I found out I was actually a side piece. It wasn’t fun.” She scrunched her nose.

“What happened?”

“Dick.” Jason warned.

“No, no. It’s okay. I took care of it.”

“Dislocated shoulder and shattered hand?” Cass spoke for the first time.

Jazz sighed again. “The dislocated shoulder was because he didn’t understand the meaning of the word ‘no’.” She made a face. “And the hand was because I didn’t realize how… soft humans actually are.”

At this point? They were getting used to Jazz — and her brother — being a different category in their heads. For Dick it was like the slight adjustment he had to make when he was with the Titans. He had been the only human, fully human, of the group and he had to get used to his best friends and then girlfriend making these types of comments regularly.

“I found out…” Jazz continued with a distant look in her eyes, “I found out because I came back to the living world sooner than I expected and decided to check out my favorite coffee place and he was there with another woman. I thought — ‘well, I’m not around much and I’m also not the most exciting person, of course I got cheated on’ but the more I listened the less it made sense.”

“You are not boring.” Jason scoffed, frowning a little at the self deprecating behavior and the story. How could that idiot not see what he had in front of him?

“Thanks,” her smile was small, but sincere, “but the story doesn’t end there.” She leaned in, her eyes narrowing as her smile twitched a little. “Things didn’t quite add up and I quickly realized it was me who was the ‘other woman’ and this poor person didn’t know. And him? He was abusing her.”

“What?”

Jazz nodded at Dick. “I followed them, listening in, trying to see any sign that he was not the same person he was with me that he was with her. Claudia — that’s her name — showed textbook behavior of abuse and I had to make sure.” She sighed, leaning back on her seat, looking tired. “Long story short I caught him threatening her and taking her phone and I decided to act. Waited until she was home safe and had a chat with David and told him very nicely that he shouldn’t do that and yes, I may have accidentally sent him to the hospital.”

She went back to her breakfast, choosing to take a bite of her toast and chew for a few moments.

“Claudia took the chance while he was recovering and broke up with him, moved apartments and found the help she needed. I would have preferred she reported him, but I can’t force her and if that was enough for her then it’s fine by me.” She shrugged. “I had to go back to the Realms shortly after so I couldn’t stay to check further, and then things got complicated and I just came back for college stuff and even then I had to be quick.”

Bruce took a sip of his coffee to hide the tiny smile.

Jazz was not a hero or a vigilante, but he could see why she fit in the family so much, and more importantly, why his son liked her so much.

“What happened to the guy?”

Jazz chuckled at Duke’s question. “As much as I'd like to report some type of karmic punishment, last time I saw him he was still frequenting the same coffee place. But he was alone. His hand was healed, though. I didn’t stay longer to check more. I couldn’t.” Her little frown and tense shoulders told them not to pry.

Conversation continued as they finished breakfast, mostly questions about her brother and what they saw almost go down in the kitchen. Jazz was very open about what she could tell, and shared a few stories about Danny and his “bad taste in women”. They noticed how earlier stories about Danny’s powers and Team Phantom adventures were easy for her to tell; but later ones, from about the time Danny graduated highschool, became a stream of “ummm”s and “uhhh”s and “and etcetera” that she used to dance around the truth.

Jason almost felt guilty for contributing to the general subtle questioning, but Jazz was happy enough to share stories and she even acknowledged that she was happy to share the whole thing at a later time.

Soon the timeline that Barbara had roughly put together was filled with tidbits of information — all those blank spots she found were the times the siblings (and their friends) were back in the Infinite Realms. Doing what exactly? That was the final piece of the puzzle.

She talked about training, about classes, about Frighty and Frostbite and Clockwork and a plethora of ghosts as if they were supposed to know who they were — classic Jazz — and with context they quickly understood that the names she repeated the most were some kind of guides or teachers on this mysterious part of her life.

It wasn't difficult to put together that Jazz, Danny and this… “Team Phantom” were somehow related to the High King of the Infinite Realms.

That still left a bunch of questions, like what were their exact roles, who was the king and what were her parents doing during those periods of time. They didn’t broach the subject but they knew from Babs’ research that they were working for the GIW, a sketchy organization that wanted them eliminated, during those times they were in the Infinite Realms.

If they knew about all of this, why haven’t they done something already? If their guesses were correct, they’ve been fighting and training for a bit less than a decade. It didn’t make sense that they had this kind of power, this kind of backup, and haven’t tried to bring down the GIW yet.

Or contacted the Justice League. Sure, they were angry and disappointed that the heroes never came to help, but Jazz insisted they had the situation back at her hometown under control. Technically, they could now ask for that support.

Glancing at Bruce and his calculating eyes, Jason decided he didn’t blame her for not reaching out. And he wasn’t sure what she would do after how bad Bruce had treated her.

“Oh Ancients,” Jazz jumped and put her orange juice back on the table. She glanced at Dick. “The class. Today. I forgot.”

The man chuckled. “I already called and said that I wouldn’t be able to attend today. The show you and your brother put on in the kitchen told me today was going to be interesting enough.”

She blushed. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. They are already used to me canceling at the last minute. Just Vigilante Things.” He winked.

“Don’t I know it.” A new voice answered from the door. Danny walked in dragging his feet, hair sticking outwards in every direction and eyes narrowed. “Good morning.”

“Hey you.” Jazz turned in her seat. “You look awful.”

“Is my natural charm.” Danny yawned and sat next to his sister. “Hi all. My name is Danny. Can I eat some food?”

Some at the table chuckled at his words. Bruce nodded, amused, and abandoned all pretense that he wasn’t analyzing the siblings.

“Slept okay?” He asked.

“Better than I have in weeks.” Danny shrugged, making quick work of what was left on the table. He wasn’t picky, and he didn’t complain about the food being cold. “Mostly because I haven’t slept in weeks more than a few naps under my desk.”

“I told you—”

“I know.” He cut off his sister. “I know. I just never find the time.”

Jazz looked like she wanted to argue but chose to let it go and helped Danny assemble the worst breakfast combination in the world. The rest watched in horror and fascination as the young man devoured everything at a fast pace, not caring about chewing or tasting the food.

Once he swallowed, he continued talking. “We have been using the system — you know, the one you created?” He rolled his eyes when Jazz smiled, pleased. “It has been working fine. It’s just,” he sighed, “after you left everything kept piling up. I didn’t know how much work you did — how much reading I would do.” Danny rubbed his face in despair.

“And that’s why Tucker was my back up for the—”

“And he has been doing a great job but I made the mistake of offering my help, you know, I thought ‘oh, I have some free time! I can help my loved ones’ — that was my first mistake.”

“Thinking?” Jazz arched an eyebrow, her smile mocking.

Danny didn’t find it amusing, but quiet and barely contained chuckles around the table disagreed with him.

“Now seriously, do you need me to come back?” She asked, pointedly ignoring the stares, especially her boyfriend’s.

Danny’s eyes opened wide. “No! No, please. You stay where you are.” He gestured widely with his hands. “We got this. You— You enjoy your vacation.”

Vacation? Jazz said she was in Arkham to learn skills for her work in the Realms.

“I told you I’m not—”

“Yes. You are. Vacation.” He grabbed her shoulders and shook her a little. “Stop worrying. We got this.”

“Good luck with getting her to relax.”

“Hey!” Jazz turned towards her boyfriend. “I thought you were supposed to be on my side?”

“And I am. On the side where you stop worrying.”

Danny finally smiled. “You are not that bad, Mr Boyfriend.”

“Jason.”

Danny’s smiles grew with mischief, and didn’t say anything else. Jazz sighed.

“Please behave.”

“I always do.”

“You know as well as I do that that’s a lie.” She narrowed her eyes at her brother. “I thought we agreed you’d behave when you visit.”

“Still thinking you are capable of ‘being normal’?” He did the air quotes and everything. “Jazz, I love you, but you know that—”

“I know.” She looked down at her hands on her lap. “Believe me I know.”

Something clicked in Danny’s mind, because his teasing smile melted from his face the moment her words were out of her mouth.

He glanced at Jason, who tensed at the look, and went back to his sister. “What happened?”

Everyone noticed the switch in the siblings. Danny’s tense shoulders and alert eyes immediately going around the room looking for something. He didn’t know the details but he knew something was up with Jasmine.

“The situation has changed.” She started, still looking down. “I… The—I mean, I will take care of it, I always do, but we need to talk.”

Jason didn’t miss Danny’s dangerous glint in his eye when he looked at him again. Or the green glow in the blue irises.

“You said so in your text.” He nodded. “So this isn’t just about Mr Muscles over there?”

Jazz's soft chuckle was almost able to break the tension in the room. Cass, Duke and Dick stopped breathing, knowing this was it. Damian, who had been ignoring everyone and had been texting John the whole time, finally put his phone down. Bruce and Jason shared a look. This was it.

“How about we move this important conversation to the drawing room? I feel like you will be more comfortable there.” Alfred as always knew when to walk in, and started picking up the dirty dishes without waiting for a reply.

With a few murmurs in agreement, the whole group stood up and moved towards the room they’d been in the previous night. The arrangement was similar, with Bruce in the loveseat and the siblings cramming themselves in the opposite couch to the one where Jason, Jazz and Danny sat down.

Jazz was holding on to her boyfriend’s hand for dear life, trying to calm down. She appreciated his words of encouragement as they walked with the group, and held her head high by the time she faced her brother again.

“Jason, and his family, they… they know.”

Danny lifted an eyebrow. “I have noticed.” He crossed his arms. “After this morning, I’d expect a few screams in horror, but nobody has reported us to the police yet, so…”

“No, no. Danny, they know.”

It took a moment for her words to settle in, but when they did he bared his teeth and stood up. “WHAT?” He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What the hell, Jazz? It’s been what, a few months? And this guy,” he pointed at Jason, who didn’t, couldn't, look at him, “makes cute eyes at you so you spill MY secrets?”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Oh yeah?” He threw his hands up. “Enlighten me. Tell me how it was, because I was mostly joking when I said you have terrible taste, but—”

“It wasn’t like that.” She growled, bristling. “Things happened and I really need you to trust me for this one.”

“Trust you?” Danny asked, incredulous. “Are you seriously asking me to trust you right now?”

She straightened her back. “Yes I am. When have I led you astray?”

Danny scoffed. “You want the list alphabetical?”

“Danny.”

The siblings glared at each other, face expressions and eyes telling more than what words could tell. Danny was furious but cautious, and the fact that he hadn’t ran away yet was taken as a good sign. Jazz was hurt and pleading, but firm even when both their eyes started turning green.

Bruce wanted to shrink into his seat in shame, but he couldn’t. He did this. Jazz was forced against her will to reveal information so he wouldn’t march her into the Justice League and trial her for crimes he thought she committed. And now she had the chance to pay back, to rightfully blame him and tell her brother how he kidnapped her and hurt her, and she wasn’t saying anything.

“Okay.” Danny finally said. “Okay,” he sighed, “when we are back home you bet your ass you are explaining.”

“Everything will make sense in time.”

“You are starting to talk like Clockwork.”

This made her smirk. “Good. It keeps you on your toes.”

Danny made a mocking face to his sister and turned to look at the others watching.

“I guess there’s nothing to lose.”

There was a flash of bright light and instead of the tired and burned out younger Fenton sibling, they saw a floating glowing figure dressed in black and white. It was still Danny, but hair was white and eyes were green; and all the ghostly physical traits they saw in the siblings — fangs, claws, pointed ears — were exaggerated in this form.

“My name is Danny Phantom. The one and only hero of Amity Park—” Jazz cleared her throat, “I mean,” he glared at her and crossed his legs in the air, still floating, “I am the only undead hero of Amity Park. I have helpers.”

“Very funny.” Jazz said. She turned towards Bruce, Jason and the others. “Guys, this is my brother. Danny, these are the Waynes. Jason’s family.”

Danny’s eyebrows arched. “You are Bruce Wayne?” The way he asked had zero amount of awe. He was familiar with the name and not in a good way.

“You know who I am?”

“Sam — my girlfriend — knows who you are. She’s been to a few of your fancy-schmancy galas. She said she hated every second of it.”

The older man found it funny. “They tend to be mind numbingly boring.”

“Hey Danny,” Jazz’s voice was careful, “is this place safe?”

This made the young man tense and unfold his legs, all playfulness gone. “What do you mean?”

“I— I did my own check, but I’d feel better if you did one too. I wouldn’t like for, hm, Vlad to—”

“Vlad is involved in this?” Nobody missed the growl in his chest.

“All will make sense, I promise.” Jazz pleaded, lifting her hands in a placating manner.

Jason glanced at Bruce. They knew Vlad Master was bad news, but this confirmed it.

“Okay. Trusting you. Whatever.” Danny breathed slowly and disappeared.

Immediately, Jazz explained: “He’s doing a sweep of the haunt.” Determined, she looked at Bruce and then at Jason. “Will it be okay if I tell him about you guys?”

Bruce looked conflicted for a second, but Jason didn’t hesitate. “Go ahead.” He glared at Bruce as if daring him to say otherwise. “We owe you at least that.”

By the time Danny was back Bruce had come to terms that he had to start being okay with a bunch of things really quick if he wanted his answers. Glancing at Jasmine and how her worried frown never left her, he considered it wasn’t that bad of a step towards properly apologizing to her. She had said a few days ago that his apology at Jason’s apartment wasn’t enough. He was starting to understand the dimensions of the situation he caused.

“Okay. Place is clean. There’s a lot of dead relatives but that’s expected from a haunt like this one.”

Bruce wanted so badly to ask him to elaborate on that. But kept his mouth shut.

“Alright.” Jazz breathed in slowly. “Danny,” she started, “remember you are trusting me, ok?”

“You are scaring me.” He tried to joke, but his sister didn’t even smile.

“Could you please show them the… the other thing?”

“What other—” realization dawned on him. “Jazz, you didn’t—!”

“I haven’t!”

“Then why—?”

“I asked you if this was safe, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then listen to me,” she insisted, standing up to approach her brother. “Trust me. Show them.” She took his hands in hers, the contrast of both the alive and dead sibling blurring the longer Jazz stood there. It was like their auras became visible and pulsed together, a low hum barely perceptible rumbling in the room. “Trust me.”

The rumbling stopped when their hands stopped touching. Danny floated back and let his body lower until his feet touched the floor. He threw a worried look at Jazz and nodded, all aggressiveness dissipating and leaving a vulnerable expression on his face.

He didn’t say anything else, but he didn’t have to. Gasps and one yelp in surprise filled the silence when green flames engulfed his body, from the bottom of his feet to the last strand of hair, and in its path, it revealed the same undead creature but not quite the same young man.

Danny looked like a completely different person with the dark metal armor over the suit. He looked taller, and bigger, and his presence commanded attention even if he wasn’t saying anything. He wore a cape dark as night, with millions of stars glowing on the inside, and that floated as if some kind of invisible breeze had entered the room.

The most impressive thing, though, was the black crown over his head. It floated a few inches over his hair, and the flames of his transformation seemed to concentrate in the mysterious metal, flowing and pulsating like a heartbeat.

“I am…” Even his voice sounded different. Heavier. He glanced at Jazz, who nodded. “I am Daniel James Phantom, the High King of the Infinite Realms.”

In the following moments, the Waynes felt like they were living in some kind of surrealistic alternate dimension. It was the moment at the maximum height of a jump, right before gravity did its thing and violently pulled you back down to Earth. Watching Danny, who just a few hours before had crashed into the house and looked more roadkill than person, was floating now in the middle of their drawing room wearing a full armor, a burning crown and a heavy presence that rivaled Batman on a bad day.

Dick broke the moment, acting like the gravity he loved to defy, and hollered a laugh coming from deep in his chest. “Eat shit, Stephanie!”

---

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annymation · 3 months

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The Kingdom of Wishes- A “Wish” Rewrite

Chapter 7- Inspire Them

Chapter 6

“You’re… a star?!”

“You guessed it!” Aster exclaimed cheerfully, flying down to the ground while doing backflips in the air, until he lands in front of her with a bright smile on his face, he bows down like a prince formally introducing himself to a princess.

“Good Asha Lucero, you have given so much happiness to others, you deserve to have your wish come true.” The star speaks more eloquently now, and it feels like these lines where rehearsed, that's because they were, for he's actually just repeating what all wishing stars say to their wish makers when they come down to earth, like it’s protocol.

That line is a reference to what the Blue Fairy says to Geppetto.

“So it shall be my honor tooOO-OH MY GALAXY IS THAT A RABBIT?!?” He sees a rabbit coming out of the bushes and gets distracted… Again…

As you can see, Aster’s not very good at following wishing star’s protocol.

Asha watches as the teenage star flies by like lightning towards the little critter, she's blown away trying to process that this is actually happening and not just a dream, wanting to ask a million questions while at the same time she's completely speechless. So all she can say in a stutter is “Umm y-yeah it sure is hehe” To answer his question. She can't help but chuckle seeing how the star is so amazed over something so simple like a rabbit.

Aster holds the rabbit’s ears up, the animal seems confused but not really minding it “Awww they're way cuter seen up close… And I was right! I told them rabbits had big ears!” The star claims victorious.

Asha tilts her head to the side “Huh? Told who?”

“A few neighbors of mine that make up the lepus constellation, see?” Aster points up to the sky, to a constellation that looks like a rabbit with very tiny ears “I told them rabbits had cute BIG ears, but they insisted their formation was good enough, it’s like they don’t even care for accuracy, really” They say while looking up with a smug, shaking his head slowly, it's like he's thinking "I told you so".

Asha gazes upon the night sky, her eyes sparkling just like the stars “… Y-yeah I guess the ears are pretty tiny hehe” she suddenly realizes what Aster just said implies... Aster is not the only one. She quickly turns to them perplexed “Wait wait slow down, are you telling me ALL the stars... ARE ALIVE??” She's breathless, looking back up at all the stars like a deer mesmerized by headlights.

Aster can't help but chuckle, she's so amazed over something that, to him, is so simple “Heh heh not aaaaall of them, but most of them, yeah." Aster explains casually while letting go of the little critter. The star turns their attention back to Asha, gazing at her with a friendly smile while floating close to her, observing her with curiosity.

Asha on the other hand is still gazing up to the night sky as she says, her voice filled with astonishment "My father used to write that we had a connection with the stars but... I could never imagine they’re actually people!" She turns back to look at Aster, her voice barely above a whisper "… Much less that they come down when they’re wished upon"

"Oooh we don’t usually come down to help at all, I’m just here because you’re a special case, Asha" Aster says, floating around her like a fish swimming in circles.

“I am?"

He stops flying around, now just floating right in front of her to explain why he's there in the first place “See, when it comes to wishing upon a star, like myself, NO request is too extreme..." He stops for a moment as if to think how's the best way to continue his point "Although... your request to save your kingdom from the clutches of two evil rulers is… Well … A lil bit extreme, just a bit, not gonna lie… heh heh" They say sounding more high pitched and awkward than before.

"Yeah... I know" The girl looks down slightly

Aster lifts her head gently to look at him, giving her an optimistic smile "That is, too extreme for you to do it all by yourself, that’s where I come in!”

Asha’s enthusiasm slowly returns "So... You'll grant my wish? just like that?" She snaps her fingers to indicate how easy and quick it'd be.

Aster hates to bring somewhat bad news, but he tries to explain it the best they can “Eeeh no, hehe not exactly, I can’t just fix everything in the blink of an eye, that’s more of a genies thing, ya know?” They clarify while creating a genie's lamp with their star dust, manifesting it above his hand to illustrate his point.

“Huh, I see” Asha is surprisingly not disappointed by that at all, she honestly didn't think it could be that simple, besides, just having any help at all is more than enough "So what can you do?"

“Oh I can do a lot! Watch, hey Valentino!" Aster flies down, now face to face with the little baby goat "What do YOU wish for lil buddy?"

Asha looks puzzled "I thought you couldn't grant wishes"

Aster giggles as he looks up to her, the star is floating barely above the ground but he's posing like he's laying down, with their hands behind the back of his head "Hehehe It's easier to explain if I show you, but let's just say I can grant simple wishes, however, the stronger it's the want in the wish maker's heart then the more I can do!"

"Maaa! Maa!" Valentino bleats out happily to Aster

Aster eyes sparkle with excitement upon hearing the goat's "words" "OO-HOHOO now THAT'S a strong wish! You got it buddy, here ya go!" He sprinkle some star dust on Valentino, to which the goat gladly eats all of it. Asha watches curiously, waiting to see what could her goat possibly have wished for...

And Valentino talks

"Did it work- *gasp* It did! I'm tawkin I am tawkin!" The little goat giggles, adorably hopping around the two of them, Valentino's voice is cute and high pitched, he sounds like a toddler.

Asha lets out an "awwwwn" with a huge smile and her eyes wide. She sits down to hug Valentino, not able to contain herself with such an adorable display.

"You sure can bud! Now go on, make your wish come true!" The star cheers while floating above the two of them

Asha looks up to Aster confused "Huh? But you just granted his wish"

"Nuh-uh I just wanted to say one thing, I wanted to THANK YOU!" The baby goat exclaims, nuzzling closer to Asha in their embrace "Thank you for always taking care of me! You're the best fwiend I could ask for!" He finishes, licking her nose.

The girl stares at her baby goat, completely overwhelmed by the cuteness.

"Soooo yeah, I can make animals talk! Pretty neat huh? But that's just the tip of the ice be-" Aster notices Asha was quiet, too quiet "Uuuuh you're ok?"

"*sob* yeah I-Im fine *sniff*" She hugs Valentino while petting him, sobbing at the sweetness in his voice. She really needed to hear that after the day she had.

Aster doesn't understand what sad tears are though, so they assume he just made a huge mistake "oh OH NONONO- IM SO SORRY I-I THOUGHT YOU'D LIKE IF HE TALKED D-DON'T WORRY ITS NOT PERMANENT! HE JUST WANTED TO SAY "THANKS" P-PLEASE DON'T BE SAD" The star is panicking, flying around and flailing his arms uncontrollably.

Asha dries a little tear from the corner of her eye and smiles at Aster "Hheheh calm down, I'm not sad, really, I just got emotional that's all"

Aster looks relieved at that, he calms down as he flies down to sit next to her

"Maaa! Maa!" Valentino is back to not talking.

"Oh so it really wasn't permanent" Asha says, as Valentino leaves her arms to hop around and eat some grass.

"Like I said, all he wished for was to say thanks, now that he did so, he has no need to speak anymore" Aster explained calmly

Asha had a thoughtful look for a moment, her eyes light up as she pieces it together in her head "... Hmm I think I get it, so you just gave him what he needed to fulfill his wish himself" Aster nodded his head quickly, excited that she got it right, Asha continued "So... What about my wish though, how will you help me grant it?" She asks to the wishing star sitting next to her.

Aster’s already big smile widens even more with the question, as they fly upward and lifts her up with one hand "I’ll be your guide! Give you all the tools you’ll need to succeed! But of course, the only one who can make your wish come true is YOU!” He boops her nose, making some star dust fly around her face

Asha feels a sense of joy come to her when the star boops her nose... But even then, the thought that everyone is depending on her makes her feel all her fears and insecurities come flowing back.

“Me? But they’re the king and queen of that whole kingdom and I… Well, I don’t even know WHO I am in all this” She admits, looking away from the star for a moment, her gaze is distant.

Aster can sense her sadness returning, and the spark of her light glowing dimmer as hopelessness fills her thoughts. His eyes turn to the side for a moment, pondering how he can rekindle her spark and make her see what he sees... Eventually, his eyes lit up with an idea, literally making his hair shine brighter like a lamp bulb turning on.

"Weeeeell I can't tell you who you are neither, that's something only you can figure out." Aster begins with a playful smile, flying to be face to face with her.

Asha notes how those words are a direct contrast to how the royal pair kept saying she needed their help to find out who she is. The star word's caught her attention.

"BUT if ya ask me, I think I might have an idea of who you are in "All this". So allow me to elaborate in the best way I know how… EVERYBODY HELP ME OUT!"

Aster exclaimed, calling upon all the living things of the forest. He uses his magic to bring all the trees and flowers to life, as well as making all the animals able to sing and dance.

And so, we get my version of "I'm A Star."

This song is quite literally the opposite of what “Wish Away” was, if "Wish Away" made Asha feel small, like she couldn’t do anything on her own and NEEDED the king’s magic, “I’m A Star” is doing the opposite of that, making her feel as grand as a celestial body, like she can do anything, and Aster is just there to land a hand, but only she can reach her dreams, and she CAN do it.

I’m A Star

[Verse 1]

Have you ever wondered why you look up at the sky for answers? Or blow dandelions in the wind? Asking them to better your chances Why throw a dime down a well? While you know that's no spell

(Aster begins to sing, extending his hand up to the sky to present all the beautiful stars above. Asha looks up to them, but before she knows it Aster grabs her attention again by pulling from behind her ear a dandelion made of star dust he just created, he shows it to her while singing the second line, Asha instinctively blows it like she indeed always did as a kid. Aster then flies away from her and to a wishing well in the woods, he makes a coin with his star dust and throws it while not even looking at the well, his gaze is still focused on Asha as she watches him sing attentively)

Things passed down generationally, to you Yes, I hear And to some unbelievers those are shoddy fallacies But have you ever wondered why you look up at the sky for answers?

(Aster makes the trees come to life, happy faces appear on them as they dance along with he music, Asha watches them in amazement, she starts getting into the mood of the song, with a giddy smile on her face. She answers "Yes, I hear" to Aster's comments, because she indeed grew up with these traditions of wishing upon dandelions, wishing wells and stars, but not thinking those will magically solve all her problems, it's just a first step to set her goals. As he sings the final line, Aster flies to above the trees, reaching to the stars with a determined and confident smile, Asha looks up to him with her eyes shining... Suddenly Aster flies back down doing backflips in the form of a ball of light, and hits the ground the song makes a "THUM" before the chorus kicks in)

[Chorus]

Well, you don't have to look too hard I'm here for all your question marks If you're tryna figure out just who you are Don't look far

(Aster stands up as soon as they land back on the ground, the animals of the forest now all sing to help him with the chorus. Upon singing the second line, Aster hits his foot on the ground, making a trail of light glow underneath the earth like roots (It's like Elsa hitting her foot down when making the castle during Let It Go), that make a giant flower grow under Asha, lifting her up to above the forest, the giant flower blooms during the third line. Asha is on it covering her eyes in fear for a moment, but Aster flies to be in front of her, taking the hands off her eyes as he sings the last line, making her look at him, he gives her a reassuring smile, making all her fears go away)

In the sky, and your front yard In your heart and in the scars If you really wanna know just who you are You're a star…

(Aster pulls her by the arms and they jump off the flower, Asha is once again startled, but when they're about to fall Aster makes another giant flower bloom, that catches them just in time, they hop on that flower and Aster once again pulls Asha to jump again, this time Asha fully trusts them and jumps without fear, knowing they'll make another flower for them to jump on. They do this during the two first lines, but as Aster sings "If you really wanna know just who you are" they spin around in the air holding Asha's hands, they both twirl in the air together before Aster throws Asha up to the sky, she floats with a little bit of Aster's star dust on her, and she looks in awe to the stars above her... Before she thinks of what Aster just said, now her face turns into confusion, as she immediately falls down in his arms)

[Verse 2]

What! But you just said YOU'RE a star! Uh-huh! Well, yeah, but you're up to par Cause' while I do bring that magic intervention Only you can reach your destination!

(Asha and Aster are now back in the forest, Aster just caught her in his arms, and Asha promptly questions what he means by saying "She's a star" when clearly he's the star here. Aster puts her back down as he answers that yes, he is a star, but he explains Asha is just as magic as he is, Aster makes some star dust flow from his fingers like tiny fireworks as he sings "Magic intervention". A bunch of animals show up around them and sing in harmony the last line. Asha looks at all of them in surprise. The whole forest is lit up with colorful lights thanks to Aster's magic.)

See, I'm more like that lil voice, in your head That suggests when you can't find your path ahead So even though I can't do all of the work for ya I'll make sure it's enough for you to shoulder!

(Aster suddenly is tiny, the size of a hand, dancing on Asha's shoulder. He whispers in her ear that he's the little voice in her head, and once he sings "Path ahead" he makes a golden path appear in front of her, made of star dust. The animals all happily follow that path and encourage Asha to follow along, she hesitates for a moment, but she takes a deep breath and makes a run for it, making little Aster fall from her shoulder as he sings the last line)

[Verse 3]

A wish is a dream that comes from your heart So I've dropped in just to do my part With my magic we'll make that dream go just as planned But I'm sure that by now you already understand:

My wish... depends on me? EXACTLY!

(Asha walks through the path, accompanied by the animals, they sing the first line to her melodically. There's some butterflies flying around her too and Asha gazes upon her overjoyed. Aster flies along side her, posing like he's laying down relaxing, saying how he's just there to do his part. He then uses his magic to create even more shiny yellow butterflies, seeing how Asha seems to like them. The music plays drums as Aster sings "But I'm sure that by now you already understand" and the butterflies fly around Asha in circles, one of them fly to her finger, Asha looks at it as she asks "My wish... Depends on me?", she sounds unsure but she's almost understanding. Aster yells the answer with contagious enthusiasm, making the butterfly on her finger fly away"

[Chorus]

For you don't have to look too hard It's all around and not too far If you're tryna figure out just who you are You're a star!

(Asha is suddenly picked up by a Iberian red deer, running with their herd behind them, all of them singing the chorus, she holds on to his horn with a smile as Aster flies in front of them lighting up the path ahead, the deer she's riding sings to her "You're a star")

Do you know you're a work of art? Even in the deepest dark If you really wanna know just who you are I'm a star!

(Aster sings the first two lines along with the other animals, while looking at Asha with eyes full of admiration. Asha however looks in shock ahead, pointing to him they're running to a cliff, Aster notices and as they jump off the cliff Aster makes Asha float with his star dust, holding her close to her with the full moon behind them, they look at one another in the eyes for a second...Valentino was also on one of the deers, and comedically passes by floating and singing with his baby voice, even though he has been "off screen" so far.)

[Verse 4]

Some say that's just too ordinary Like us stars just ain't necessary 'Cause I'm no legendary genie Granting wishes one, two and three!

(We cut to Asha and Aster back on the ground in the middle of a flower filled, Aster makes all the flowers glow like stars, making the woods beautifully lit up with splashes of color and light all around them. As Aster sings "'Cause I'm no genie legendary" he makes a yellow lamp just like the one from Alladin and hands it to Asha, as she holds it she hubs it, and out of it comes three Asters, completely yellows as they're made of star dust, each one shows up in the rhythm of each number in the line "One, two and three")

Well, my friend, just between you and me I'm way more fun, 'cause, you see I'm here to guide and make you believe YOU can write your origin story!

(Aster snaps his fingers making the lamp and all the three clones disappear in a poof of yellow glittery dust. He's now holding Asha by the shoulder and speaking close to her ear like he's about to tell her a secret as he sings the first line. He offers her a hand as if inviting her for a dance, Asha gladly accepts it and they both dance together around the dancing trees and animals. Aster lifts her off the ground and twirls her around as he sings the last line, Asha looks down at him with a radiant smile, she seems to really like that idea)

[Chorus]

You don't have to look too hard It's all around and not too far If you tryna figure out just who you are You're a star!

(Asha and Aster dance together, they hold hands an almost begin to do a waltz before Aster always changes to a more free style dance. The animals sing the chorus and copy them, with some rabbits dancing while holding their paws together, and some birds flying together in harmony with the music, Valentino is dancing to along with the animals. Aster boops Asha's nose as he says "You're a star")

No matter where you end or start We're both each other's counterparts If you really wanna know just who you are I'm a star! (Wooh)

(Asha is filled with delight as she dances freely, without a care in the world, she feels as if she could fly. She watches all the magic that surrounds her with pure wonderment in her eyes, she finally fully accepts what Aster and all the other creatures in the forest are trying to tell her, as she exclaims "I'm a star!" and all of them cheer.)

[Post-Chorus]

Ooh, I'm a star Watch out world here you are (Hey, hey) You know who's lookin' sharp? (Who?) Me, I'm a star! (Wooh) Oh, you're a star! Watch out world here you are! (Hey, hey) You know who's lookin' sharp? (Who?) You! You're a star

[Outro]

Ha-ha-ha, wooh Yes, wooh Ah-ha-ha, ho-ho

(Aster makes a light shine on Asha like a spot light, as the animals all watch her dance by herself, feeling fully confident in who she is. The star keeps hyping her up, overjoyed that her spark is back. Aster flies around her as she dances, he sings the last lines praising her, while making the flowers and leaves fly around them like colors of the wind from Pocahontas, but on the last line both him and Asha point at each other when saying "You! You're a star" and their fingers touch each other when they point. The two of them find that amusing, and on that adrenaline high energy that can only laugh and cheer together. Asha falls on the grass, laughing with overwhelming joy and exhaustion after all of this, Aster lays next to her as he celebrates.)

Asha and Aster are laying down, laughing on the grass. Flowers are growing around Aster because he's so happy. Asha is more out of breath, since ya know, unlike Aster she actually breathes. Some animals that helped Aster as backup singers start to leave the scene

"Wooh! That was great! Thank you for the help fellas!" Aster thanks the animals for their help, still laying on the floor with Asha as he waves them goodbye.

"Any time buddy!" "That was fun!" "We should do this more often!"

The animals chit chat as they leave the pair and Valentino alone in a small clearing in the forest. The girl and the star are now both gazing up to the stars while Valentino is sitting next to them, also looking up.

"Sooo did I explain well enough?" They asks her, genuinely wanting to know since this is the first time he explains to someone how wishing stars work.

"Yeah... I'm still trying to process this is all really happening and I didn't just fall from the tree branch and hit my head... But yeah I get it.” Asha says, still out of breath after everything that happened “So you’re here to help me… I assume you're all caught up on what my problem is, right?" Since he's magic she assumes they might as well know everything.

Aster confirms her assumption "The king has been changing people's wishes for years. And he changed your wish so you would become a princess locked up in a tower by sun rise, yup yup I'm all caught up" Aster elaborates quickly, while trying to smell some of the flowers that grew around him, but disappointingly realizing he can’t smell anything.

(Aster has been keeping up with the rewrite y'all)

"I have no idea on how to stop them" Asha breathes out, her voice comes out as almost an whisper

Aster is still staring at the stars as they say "On your own it would be pretty hard" But then he turns his head to look at her "But lucky for you, your magic guide here already got it aaaaaaall figured out" They have a cheeky grin

Asha sits up in surprise "You do??”

"Yuuuup!" He begins to illustrate his plan using his star dust, creating the image of the castle "King Magnifico is gonna release the wishes from his tower any minute now" the star dust castle illustrates the wish bubbles coming out of it, then Aster creates the image of a sleeping Asha with his other hand "While you sleep, I'll keep an eye out for that cursed wish bubble the whoooole night long, then when it shows up I can just grab it before it reaches you" Aster illustrates the wish bubble approaching her, and he grabs the small orb with his own fingers.

“And just like that you... You can stop it from coming true?” Asha asks slowly, it feels almost too good to be true.

“Of course! That "wish" turned curse won't get even close to you while I'm around here” He sits up as he says confidently. He then chuckles a bit at that, realizing the irony “Heheh it’s kinda ironic ain’t it? A wishing star stopping a wish from coming truuu- wOAH“

Aster is caught off guard by Asha hugging them.

“THANK YOU! ASTER THANKYOUTHANKYOU THANK YOU!!” Asha isn't usually much of a hugger, but in this case she just can't contain how happy and relieved she feels “Aster I was just… So scared, you have no idea, that they’d take me away and- Thank you...“ She finally feels like everything will be alright

(She doesn't know she's in a story written by an angst loving writer, so everything will NOT be alright my friends)

Aster is... Well this IS their first hug, ever, it feels very foreign to him... It feels… New.

The star can't quite describe what it is, it's like happiness but somehow... Stronger... If someone was to describe this feeling to him, he'd think it couldn't be true.

They return the hug of course, holding her tight as his eyes close shut “Heh don’t mention it, I’m your wishing star, of course I’ll protect you.”

(hmmm would you say you’d protect her… At all cost????)

Aster wanted to stay like this for as long as they could but... Suddenly some quiet orchestral instruments start playing in the background, they sound messy and without harmony. Aster's eyes are shot open and they quickly lets go of the hug "A-and everyone else in Rosas too, since ya know, that was uh- your wish heheh" he stumbles over his words nervously.

Asha doesn't notice the awkwardness in his voice, she just gets up, feeling her confidence returning, reassured that she does have a chance of winning with Aster by her side.

"… Yeah- YEAH! We can do it, I can make them see the truth, now that I have your help!" She speaks passionately, ready to take on anything the world throws at them "What can we do to save everyone else?"

Aster flies off the ground, looking just as excited as her "I'm glad you asked! Here's my plan" Once again, Aster uses his star dust to illustrate his plan quickly: "First! We get in the castle. Then we free all the wishes. Everyone gets their wishes back. They all learn that they should make their wishes come true through their own efforts. BOOM. They get "Something more for them than thisss"!" he sing songs the last phrase at the rhythm of "This Wish"

Aster eagerly waits for her reaction to his… “plan”. Asha is smiling but... She knows that's a terrible plan, however, she doesn't want to be rude.

"Umm... Its a good idea but... I think we can workshop that a little bit." She says as kindly as she can to not hurt the star's feelings.

"Yeah yeah of course! this is OUR plan after all" Aster is floating like he's laying down on his cape, like it's a hamrock in mid air. The star is over confident that this is indeed the perfect plan.

Asha takes a deep breath before explaining "Well... If we simply free the wishes, I don't think the people of Rosas will want them back, you know? They want their wishes GRANTED by the king himself, it would take a lot of convincing to make everyone want to grant their own wishes. Not to mention most of them were changed by Magnifico so now they're curses."

As she speaks Aster start floating down and down and down with every word, realizing the situation is a bit more complex than he expected, he's sitting on the grass now with his legs crossed.

"... Huh... I didn't think about it that way" He admits, sounding a mix of embarrassed and disappointed in himself "This... Guiding thing... Might be a bit harder than I thought" their voice is quiet as his hair that moves like a flame (I don't think I've emphasized this enough, his hair is a reference to Hades hair, ITS ALWAYS MOVING) starts to shine less brightly.

Asha notices the star insecurities, so now it's her turn to cheer him up, she sits next to Aster and holds their hand. Aster's eyes light up when he feels her hand on his, he listens attentively to what she has to say

"Hey don't worry, it won't be easy, but thats okay, we just need some time to plan this out, together. You said it yourself, right? You can't do all the work for me, and I don't want you to. Just having you here to help already changes everything... I'm really glad you're here, Aster" She gives him a warm smile, her eyes locked on his.

His hair lights up again, even brighter than before, and more flowers bloom around them. "... Yeah, I'm glad I did come down here." The star says, a smile growing in the corner of his lips, his eyes sparkling. Aster doesn't have a heartbeat but if he did it would probably be beating like a storm in their chest.

Asha is quite literally oblivious to the effect she just had on him. She simply gets up again and changes the subject. "We can think on a plan tomorrow, now I gotta go home and-" She stops, realizing that if she goes home she's gonna have to explain everything to Dahlia "Oh my-how am I gonna explain YOU to Dahlia and her parents, or explain why I ran away like that... " She places a hand on her forehead, now walking side to side worriedly.

Aster starts floating again, with a knowing smile on his lips "Mayyyybe you can sleep in a different house tonight" They state with a childlike mischievousness in their voice

Asha looks at them confused "Huh? What house?"

Aster turns her head with one finger, making her turn around to looks what's behind her.

"How about that one?"

Asha then sees...

(Pretend this picture is at night time please)

"That's... That's my old home, where I grew up" Asha feels a warmth in her heart, it's a feeling of nostalgia and comfort, she hasn’t been in there for a long time.

Aster still has that same knowing smile, his eyelids are relaxed as he comments "Really? Huh what a coincidence..." it's not like he guided that whole musical sequence to lead them here or anything- what? What you talking about? "WELP let's get in then!" The star flies to the door like a dash of light.

"W-wait Aster, the door is locked-" Asha warns him but-

Aster uses his magic when touching the door, making it glow yellow for a moment, and just like that, It's open "Not for me, it isn't heheh"

Asha smiles, yeah, of course they can open doors too.

We have a small time skip, cutting to them inside the house. It's a cozy small cottage with, even though it looks a bit dusty from it's time abandoned it's still quite organized. It's faintly lit with candles, but Aster's hair and cape pretty much light up the whole place a lot more.

Valentino is soundly sleeping on a pillow, while Asha is sitting on the dinner table, drawing on her sketchbook... Drawing Aster of course, because what else would an artist do if they met someone who was literally 2D animated in real life?

(“But Anny shouldn’t she go to sleep?” SHE WILL GO TO SLEEP AFTER I GET MORE CUTE INTERACTIONS OUT OF THEM)

She's also eating some berries that animal critters got for her offscreen, ya know, because Aster asked them to, and she didn't have dinner. While she draws, Aster is flying all over the place, taking a closer look at EVERYTHING inside the house.

"Wow, I could never actually see how human houses looked like from the inside! It's way more spacious than I thought"

Asha can't help but laugh at that statement "Ha! Now that's funny coming from someone that lived in SPACE, which I gotta ask... How was it like? What did you do up there?" Her eyes sparkled with curiosity

"Oooh ya know, the usual, watch the birth of super novas, throw asteroids as far as you can, sometimes guess where a new solar system will form next, just a bunch of boring stuff" The way Aster says it makes it seem like those are the most mundane things ever. He says while admiring a fork in his hands.

(Ariel coded. Aster is Ariel from space y'all)

Asha hears the star describe all those things in awe, after all she also really likes astronomy.

"None of that sounds boring at all, and I still got a thousand other questions!" She says excitedly

Aster is just as excited to answer them. But then he notices Asha's sketchbook is open, that gives him an idea.

"Well then ask away! I'm an open book, or rather..."

Aster jumps INSIDE her book, shrinking down to the size of her finger, now he's black and white, and is animated with more rough sketchy animation, as a reference to animation tests, like this (2D Mirabel my beloved)

GIF by scurviesdisneyblog

"I'm IN an open book! heheheh" He giggles, there's no reason for them to do that other than he wanted to see if it was possible, and of course it is.

Asha looks at the now moving Aster sketch on her book, she's stunned for a moment, but then again that's not even the most impressive thing Aster has done today.

"O-Okay so umm, you mentioned earlier that not all stars are alive, right? Just some... So how does a star gain life?" She asks, like she's interviewing him for research.

Aster walks around the pages of her sketchbook as he explains "When we are wished upon for the first time by a mortal! I got my first wish about 18 years ago more less, and that's when I gained life" He jumps to a different page, now with some animal sketches drawn on it.

"Oh... We're the same age then" Asha mentions, somewhat surprised, but at the same time it does make more sense than Aster being a 100000+ year old, after all he acts like just a teen… When he’s not acting like a kid that is.

"Guess we are! Happy birthday by the way!" Aster says as he brings some animal drawings to life, they begin to run around him "Hehehe Though can you imagine if you WERE my first wish maker? I would've shown up here looking like a new born star, an actual baby, now that'd be awkward wouldn't it?"

(...Yeah Aster, that would be very strange... Thank goodness it never happened... Am I too salty?)

"Heh I guess so, and uh do ALL the stars look and dress like you?" She goes on to the next question.

"We always pick a different form depending on what's more fitting for our wish maker, I picked this form because… Well- You were in need of help like a princess in a fairytale, so I thought the princey looking clothes would fit the occasion" Aster's now in a different page with the drawing of a tree, he's hanging around from the branches

Asha is slightly put off by the comment, she had enough of this "princess talk" after what happened in the castle that night.

"I am NOT a princess though" She corrects him with one eyebrow raised up.

Aster drops from the tree branch "Oh I know! You're just pretty like one" He says innocently, like he's just stating something that's clear as day.

Asha blushes, getting flustered by that sudden compliment... She didn't expect a literal star to find her pretty.

(NEVERMIND HE LITERALLY SANG "DO YOU KNOW YOURE A WORK OF ART EVEN IN THE DEEPEST DARK" A FEW MINUTES AGO LIKE GURL HE IS NOT BEING SUBTLE)

"Heh heh wow-okay um... Honestly when I first saw you I assumed you were like... A sorcerer or something" She tries changing the subject, assuming they're just saying that to be nice.

" Pffft a sorcerer?! Nooo nonono if I wanted to come off as a sorcerer I would've dressed myself something more like this"

He snaps his fingers, changing his clothes to look like Mickey’s sorcerer apprentice outfit, because Disney reference babeeeeyyy.

"Though the hat is a bit too big isn't it? I don't think it suits me heheh" He chuckles as the hat covers his eyes.

Asha giggles at that in amusement "Hihih I think you look great either way"

Suddenly, a gust of wind blows through the window. The pages of the sketchbook flip rapidly because of the wind, throwing Aster off the book

“WOOOOOOAAAH!!!” He screams as he gets back to their normal size, before he knows it he's thrown inside a closet

Asha gets up instantly to check if he’s alright "ASTER?! YOU OKAY?" she asks worried

The star is just laughing without a care in the world, laying inside the closet full of old belongings of Asha and her family. "Woooo hahahah yup! Need more than a little wind to-“ Aster notices something in the closet that caught his attention “Hey, what's this?" Aster gets up from the closet, holding a mandolin.

"Oh… that's my Saba's old mandolin, I guess I forgot it here" Asha looks at the instrument with a smile that was somewhat nostalgic, but also mournful. She expected the memories of him would come flowing back by them just being in the house, but it still caught her by surprise.

"Did he play?" The star asks curious

"Actually... No. I never seen him playing it, I even asked him to teach me a couple of times but he was never interested" She sounds sorrowful as she passes her fingers through the cords.

"Huh... I see" Aster can kinda guess why that is… But they prefer to keep the information to themselves.

She's still paying close attention to the instrument in her hands, looking at it with downcast eyes "You know… I wish he did teach me, I don’t know how to play any instruments… But Saba always seemed disinterested in-“

Asha notices Aster started shining brighter and giggling more than usual all of the sudden… Also he’s shaking his arms around rapidly, leaving smear frames like he has multiple arms, ya know since he’s 2D. Soooo yeah, they’re stimming.

“Umm... You doing okay Aster?" Asha asks holding the mandolin close to her.

Aster floats now with his face is close to hers "You "WISH" you say?! Weeeell I can help with that!" His voice is full of glee, like the simple word “wish” coming out of Asha’s mouth filled him with energy

"Y-you can? But how? You can’t change the past" Asha is more confused than ever

"Nope! Buuut I can use my magic to give you a taste of what it would’ve been like if he DID teach you! Here, let me try something”

Aster extends his hand, asking her to hand them the mandolin, Asha isn’t sure where this is going but she trusts the star completely, so she gives it to him. Aster begins spreading his star dust on the cords of the mandolin, making them shine brightly. The cords start playing many different melodies by themselves, as if every song ever played in that instrument is being played again all at the same time. Aster then makes that shine on the cords return to him, the mandolin stops playing and now Aster has a light flickering on the tip of his finger, you can almost hear the faint sound of music coming from that light. Aster reaches out, getting that finger closer and closer to Asha's face

"Aaaaand BOOP!” Aster boops her nose with his shiny finger, making stardust sparkle around her face. She blinks a few times, not understanding what just happened. ”There! Try it now!" Aster says as he hands the Mandolin back to her. Asha looks at the mandolin, then back to Aster, who’s staring at her with a big smile, eager to see what she’ll do next.

She holds it to try playing it, not sure what since she doesn’t know any songs- wait...- But she DOES. Asha’s eyes light up when she realizes that now she can remember so many melodies in her head, like the knowledge was always there. The chords, the music notes, it all comes naturally to her as much as speaking and reading. And so, her fingers dance through the mandolin, creating a beautiful melody, a smile grows on her lips.

"Woah I- I can play it now!" The girl says cheerfully

"Yup!” The star boy flies upwards quickly, glad they could make her happy granting one simple wish… Thought he knows there’s a “but” “But it's not permanent, you'll only know how to play till tomorrow's strike of midnight" Aster explains while walking around upside down on the ceiling.

Asha looks up and asks "Why midnight?"

The star shrugs “It's always midnight" he answered simply "Anyway, it may not be the same as if your grandfather taught you but... At least you can get a feel for it before trying to learn at your own pace"

Asha chuckles a bit with that notion, most people would probably be upset if they only got to know a talent for one day, but she’s more than happy with just knowing how to play it NOW, and yeah, she can try learning how to play by herself later.

She looks at the instrument as she says:

"Thanks, Aster. Though I don't think I'll have the time to play it tomorrow, we gotta figure out how to defeat the king and queen, remember? And I doubt knowing how to play the mandolin is gonna help us heheh" she says that last part laughing a quietly to herself, how silly would that be? To defeat those villains with music.

"Yeah I guess it won't..." Aster speaks in a disappointed sigh while still pacing around the ceiling, sad that Asha won’t get to enjoy her wish tomorrow… But then… an idea pops up in the star’s head. His hair lights up like a lamp once again. The boy JUMPS and does some backflips before landing on the table with wide bright eyes and a huge smile. "What if it COULD help though???" He exclaimed, now standing on the table.

"...What?" Asha asks with one arched eyebrow

Aster starts walking circles on the table like they’re thinking on the details of their new plan "Wait wait wait let me think... Yeah YEAH I KNOW! Asha! YOU can INSPIRE THEM!" Aster says pointing a finger to Asha, smiling ear to ear.

"Inspire who? Huh?? What you talking about???" Asha is now hugging the mandolin walking backwards, not understanding what’s going on right now.

Aster tries lowering his energy as he speaks more calmly "Think about it, why did the king and queen want your wish soooo much in the first place?" He asks, now sitting on the table with his legs crossed.

"Uuh because they're evil" She states the obvious fact with a deadpan expression.

"Ok yeah that too- BUT they wanted it because they were afraid you could INSPIRE people, that's their weakness! They depend on the people believing in them, trusting them with their wishes, so if we want to win we gotta. Break. That. Trust” He says emphasizing each one of the last three words by hitting his finger on the table.

"And you think we can do that... By playing music?" Asha gives him a look that can only be described as an “… seriously?” Expression, she’s not confident in that idea, not in the slightest.

Aster on the other hand is just as confident in that idea as he’s confident that the sun will rise tomorrow. So they continue:

"It's a start, you can inspire the people of Rosas with music so that they at least THINK about wanting to pursue their own wishes, you said it yourself, that we could only return the wishes to them once they learn they shouldn't depend on king Magnifico" Aster says, now floating closer to Asha with that same bubbly smile that doesn’t seem to ever leave his face.

Asha tries to patiently explain to him why that’s not a good plan "Aster, it's a lot more complicated than that, I mean, how would we even know if I'm actually changing anyone's minds?"

Aster doesn’t miss a heartbeat and exclaims "I'd know!"

"…huh?" Asha eyes squint.

The star once again has his face reeeeally close to Asha’s, their noses almost touching, so she looks him directly in the eyes "I can SEE people's beliefs! Their wants! Their dreams! My eyes can see all that as plainly as a smile on someone's face. If, or rather, WHEN anyone feels inspired by you, I will know" The star is shining like the sun now, somehow it doesn’t hurt Asha’s eyes though, but she still not fully convinced.

"And you... Really think I can change their minds?” Her voice is full of doubt now, both in herself and in the notion that the people of Rosas can ever change that easily “I was seen as a weirdo in the kingdom for years, and after what happened today... They must see me as something worse, how can I change anything?" She looks at the star with a saddened expression.

And once again, Aster reassures her with a bright smile and some words of wisdom "You just gotta believe, believe in yourself all the way, implicitly and unquestionably-

(That’s uh… that’s a reference to an Walt Disney quote, cause like, I’m shocked that Disney’s 100th anniversary movie had none of those, and also it’s really fitting for Aster’s character… sorry for the interruption, let’s keep going)

- believe in yourself as much as I believe in you! I'll be there to help you. It won't be easy but we gotta start from somewhere, right?… And I REALLY think if anyone can inspire them it's you, Asha."

The thought never crossed Asha’s mind before but… The way Aster talks to her almost feels like they know her for a long LONG time… But maybe that’s just how wishing stars talk to their wish makers in general. Asha thinks for a moment… Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to at least try…

"... Yeah I guess... It does sound fun to play music with my saba's mandolin like I've always wanted...” She looks at the instrument, but then a worrisome thought came to her, she looks back at Aster and asks “But how are YOU gonna be there with me? We can't let people see you"

Aster smirks as he starts floating towards the entrance of the house "Oooh hohoho way ahead of you! Watch this.” He gets out, closing the door behind him. Asha sees a huge flash of light coming from the windows, she looks at the door confused until… Aster walks back in. Emphasis on WALKS, not float. For he’s no longer a 2D animated glowing boy… He’s 3D just like Asha and all the rest of the environment. Asha is startled for a moment because she almost couldn’t recognize him now that he looks like… A real person.

“Ta-da!” He says walking in while twirling around, showing off his new form. His cape no longer has star dust flowing out of it, and his blonde hair no longer moves nor shine, and the star mark on his right eye is gone.

All Asha can say is amazement is “...Wow”

The star was just interesting to look at before, since he was a moving drawing. But now… Now Asha felt a bit more when looking at him, her heart starts beating faster.

Although he does looks like a real person his movements feel… Off, like their animation is in a different frame rate compared to everything else, his movements are slightly quicker.

(In case you haven’t noticed yet Aster is a walking animation study)

"Pretty neat huh? I feel so heavy now hehe" He jumps a few times, like they’re getting used to the gravity

"Wait wait wait did you just turn yourself into a human??" Asha asks while walking towards him to take a closer look.

"Naah, I wish." He whispers the "I wish" part more to himself "This is just a disguise, all wishing stars have one, though I can't actually use my powers while in this form" The boy says while checking his new appearance on a mirror hanging on the wall "But hey, not like I'll need my powers to help you inspire people, that will be all you! I'll be there just to hype up the audience" He says excitedly

Asha feels her insecurities creeping in at the mention of an audience "... We can't bring too much attention for ourselves though, SPECIALLY from the king and queen, they'll probably think that cursed wish changed me, so they'll be looking for me"

"I can keep an eye out for them… Aaaaand" Aster runs towards the closet he fell in earlier, and grabs another item that caught his attention beside’s Sabino’s mandolin… It’s a purple bluish cloak, the same cloak from the movie that references the fairy godmother’s cloak.

“My mom’s cloak…” Asha says warmly as Aster hands the piece of clothing to her

"They won't recognize you like this, from the top of their palace you'll look like just any street performer" The star's voice is filled with trust that everything will be alright, and Asha feels that trust too as she holds the cloak close to her heart.

"Yeah... Okay, we'll do it! Tomorrow morning at the plaza" Asha announces decidedly

“Alright!" The star jumps up, realizing he can't fly in that form so he looks slightly confused when he lands back down, he feels a bit embarrassed by that "Heheh... But hey, speaking of that cursed wish of yours... shouldn't the wishes have already been released from the tower?" Aster says looking out the window.

"... I honestly don't know what time of night the king usually releases them, I'm always already asleep when that happens... *yaaaawn* and speaking of which, I should probably go to bed now" Asha says, walking to her old room with tired eyes

"Great idea, I'll be on the roof to watch out for that cursed wish!" The star says as they turn back to his 2D appearance so they can fly to the roof

"Good night, Asha!"

"Good night Aster"

Aster flies to the roof and lays down, to protect Asha. The young star relaxes looking up to the night sky.

…

And then

We hear the sound of instruments.

Violins, flutes and bells all playing quietly but erratically.

We then see a new emotion that Aster hasn't displayed before form on his face...

Aster looks annoyed.

The young star rolls his eyes, speaking in a tone reminiscent of a bothered teenager

"Wow, I barely even started and you guys already think I’m doing this all wrong? A little bit of trust would be nice"

The instruments play again, as if to answer to what he just said

"Yeah I knooow it's gonna take a while to grant this wish, but hey, if it was a simple wish I wouldn't be here in the first place, now would I?"

The instruments play again, more aggressively

"I may be young but I deserve to be here just as much as anyone else... I know I'm doing things differently but... She needs me"

The instruments play again

"NO THIS IS NOT-"

He stops himself from yelling, Asha might hear, he looks up to the stars with a glare.

"*sigh* This is NOT about me wanting to stay here longer than I have to, I'm just doing things MY way, just give me a chance, I know what I'm doing..."

…

Silence.

…

All Aster hears now are the sounds of the night, like crickets and the wind

The star turns their gaze now to the castle in the distance

“… I know what I’m doing.”

Chapter 8

Final thoughts

Does he though?

And WOW that was a looooong chapter of just two characters talking to each other huh? Well I hope y’all enjoyed the cuteness because it’s aaaaaall going downhill real soon :3

So just getting one thing out of the way, about this last scene of Aster talking with the stars… I wrote that whole scene while listening to “I’m still here” from Treasure Planet to get my head in the misunderstood teen vibe, just so you guys get an idea.

It’s not like Aster was faking his upbeat personality,obviously not, they don’t fake anything, it’s more like they have layers… like an onion 🧅. With Asha and everyone else he’s the happy optimistic little ray of sunshine that believes wholeheartedly that “🎶No matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing, that dream that you wished will cooooome true🎶” and all that jazz.

BUT with the stars, he’s treated like a kid, when they feel like a teenager and wants to be treated as one. My point is he’s more than a happy face, he’ll have an arc and be a rounded character.

And don’t worry, the stars ain’t antagonists, they’re more of a true neutral party. Just observing… Yeah.

And if you think “that plan of inspiring people with music is not a good idea” why yes, I know, but that’s Aster plan, aka the guy who takes ✨If you believe you can do it✨ as gospel, and don’t get me wrong I agree with believing in your dreams, but Aster will come to learn what that REALLY means, and what it really means to be someone’s guide.

This plan WILL lead to something good for Asha and Aster… buuuut it’ll also lead to something real bad, so ya know, Aster gets a reality check, and Asha will get some character development… Yippee 🥳

Hope you guys enjoyed this Magnifico and Amable free chapter because they’re coming back right in the beginning of chapter 8 hahaha say bye bye to the good vibes.

As always

Thank You For Reading!

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the-oblivious-writer · 10 months

Text

Pretty Girl |3|

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Chapter Three: Unspoken Words

Summary: You and Tara have been avoiding each other for a while now until you decide enough is enough

Warning(s): Swearing, R can be just as confusing as Tara sometimes and oh so stupid & avoiding confrontation

Notes: Chad's the best wingman out there and that's canon, I hope this doesn't feel rushed. Past few days have been a bit busy but I'm glad I was able to get this out for you all! This series isn't over just yet

Previous Part|Next Part

It. Had. Been. Fucking. Weeks. You and Tara were still not talking. Geez you two were so stubborn. It was frustrating. At least it was for her friends. Tara would talk about you constantly which would make it even more frustrating for the people around her.

Buying a drink? Y/N would like that

Watching a movie? Y/N loves this part

They needed you two to talk or else it was going to be the death of them. You were still not sure how to approach the whole thing. You definitely didn’t want to be the first to give in but you also couldn’t stand the distance. You missed her but no way could you admit that.

Either she was going to give in or neither of you would ever talk again it seems. That was until you found yourself knocking on the younger Carpenter’s window.

Tara hadn’t gotten a message from you in weeks so you best believe when she saw your contact name appear on her phone she scrambled to get it.

‘open your window’

Tara furrowed her eyebrows before turning to her window and seeing you outside. You gave a slight wave and gestured for her to open the window. She took out her headphones and did as asked. When you climbed in she stared you down. It was confusing, part of her knew exactly what to say and the other didn’t.

“What are you doing here?” Was all she managed to get out. This caused you to let out a frustrated huff. She was acting as if you weren't totally ignoring each other for weeks!

“Just popping by. Was in the neighborhood so why not, right? Oh and while I’m here just wondering..what the actual fuck, Carpenter?” You catch Tara off guard, she definitely wasn’t expecting that.

“Excuse me?” You let out a laugh to her response before replying, you couldn’t believe her right now.

“You heard me. How about we start off with that blow up from three weeks ago. What was that? Cause I’d really like to know” You cross your arms waiting for a response from the shorter girl.

She fiddled with her hands while trying to find her words. “I’m- sorry” Tara irritatedly sighed, being the first to give in. Her gaze met the floor so she didn’t see your amused smile. Tara took a seat on her bed and crossed her legs, still avoiding your stare.

“Still doesn’t answer my question but I’ll take it. And uh I guess I’m sorry too” You take a seat next to Tara, your hand lands in a spot that’s less than an inch away from hers.

“You weren’t the only one being a stubborn ass. The phone works both ways” She gives a small smile and finally looks up at you.

“How about a truce?” You propose. “A truce?” Tara repeats.

“Correct, a truce. Next time we get into an argument-”

“I don’t want there to be a next time..” Tara interrupts, saying it so low as if she was scared for you to hear you.

“We’re human Tara, it’s bound to happen again” Your hand lays on Tara’s in an attempt to comfort her. “But how about when it does, next time we won’t just ignore each other for weeks at a time. We can give each other room but..” You look down,”That was too much room, Tar.”

She looks at you in understanding and nods followed by an “ok.” Tara rubs your hand, signaling for you to look back at her. The Carpenter smiled when you finally met her gaze.

You both stared at each other, her eyes fell to your lips as yours did the same to her. “I never told you why I lashed out that night” Tara started as you both slowly leaned closer.

“Oh yeah? And what about it” Tara tilted her head and leaned in closer, your lips were so close to touching. All you had to do was-

The door slammed wide open. “Tara! Check it ou- Oh sorry did I interrupt something?” Chad asked genuinely with a Nintendo switch in his hand. He had no idea you were even here. He thought Tara was just in here studying with her headphones in.

You and Tara had pulled away from each other quickly and shook your heads. “Nope we were just talking, what’s up?” Chad had finally finished the level he and Ethan have been trying to beat for months! You liked Chad. He was a cool dude and you even hung out with him sometimes.

You talked about a few things, Mario kart, football, Spider-man and the occasional random shit. He was also a pretty good wingman. But unfortunately he was as oblivious as you could be sometimes. A girl was flirting with you? Sure, go for it dude. A guy wanted to get to know you? That’s awesome!

He’s the hype man everybody needs in life but he’d get so caught up in it that he didn’t notice the glares Tara sent him. Still confused as to why Mindy hit him in the shoulder when things like this happened. What’s wrong with being a supportive wingman?

Mindy and Anika really need to sit him down and have him filled in on the two love birds. Even Ethan knew!

—

A couple days have passed and you end up hanging out with Tara and her friends. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little nervous. You mostly just talked with Chad and sometimes Ethan since they were a package deal. Anika seemed nice but you were still nervous because you haven’t really talked much so you weren’t sure what she thought of you.

Then there was her girlfriend, Mindy. Twin sister of Chad and much more intimidating. On the outside it should’ve been the opposite of that but for some reason you just got the hunch she didn’t like you. You knew she was a protective friend but you couldn’t help but wonder how that persuaded her thoughts of you.

You were all sitting comfortably in the living room with a show playing, Tara on the couch while you laid between her legs. Your back faced her as you laid against her chest, her legs wrapped around you as she gently played with your hair. Pretty cozy for a couple of friends.

“So,” Mindy spoke up. “You two made up?” Anika gave Mindy a look but the twin just shrugged.

“Yeah. We’re good now” Tara answered so you wouldn’t have to. Mindy hummed in response. You and Tara weren’t one hundred percent sure where she was going with this but you knew she wasn’t done.

Before Mindy could interrogate any further your phone rang. “Who is it?” Tara asked curiously, you lifted it slightly to see who it was before turning off the ringer. “No one important. Just going to let it ring.” Tara replied with an unconvinced hum but didn’t press any further.

Sam entered the apartment with take out in hand, “Hey guys.” Everybody responded with ‘Heys’ and ‘Hi’s’ before she sat the food down. “Got some food on my way home so eat up. I’m gonna head out in a few” Sam said before walking to her room. Okay..that was strange. She only sent a single glare and no snarky comment about you being over.

Must be warming up to me or just really tired you thought. Tara looked down to you, not wanting to move out of her current position. Oh how the turned tables. “Are you going to eat something?” She eventually asked. You only shook your head and continued to stare at the TV. She could wait to eat, she didn’t mind. Tara had gotten too used to you being in her arms. It gave her a feeling of warmth that was too good to let go of just yet.

The two of you made up and you were finally back in her arms. Everything was back to the way it was before. Nothing could ruin this.

An hour had passed and you fell asleep on Tara, not that she was complaining. She held onto you and enjoyed having you there in her arms. Suddenly you start to open your eyes as you slowly start waking up.

“What time is it?” You ask tiredly while rubbing your eyes. “Eight forty-two” Ethan responded, causing you to scramble out of Tara’s arms. The action caused the younger Carpenter to furrow her eyebrows in confusion. “What’s wrong?” Tara asked, her tone laced with a bit of worry.

“I’m late for a date but we’ll do a rain check!” You reply before rushing out the door leaving Tara to process what you just said.

“What the actual fu-”

You had a what?!

-----------

#jenna ortega #tara carpenter x fem reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x y/n #scream

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lucid-loves · 3 months

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Taste Like Venom ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 8

Pairing: Ghost x assassin!reader (fem!reader, no use of y/n, callsign “Hex”)

Word Count: 5k

CW: angst, violence, blood, strong language, scars, enemies to lovers trope, slow burn, fluff, clear attraction and sexual tension, smut later on, reader POV and ghost POV, minors dni, Soap lives in this AU

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: After Makarov gets away once again, Laswell decides to force a favor from you, the world’s greatest assassin and best-kept secret. You are now expected to help the 141 with taking down Makarov in addition to playing nice with them. It’s hard to play nice when you have always worked alone. It doesn’t help that one of the team members, Ghost, gets curious about you in each interaction.

Chapter Synopsis: You’ve arrived in Paris and have successfully infiltrated the catacombs. However, things take an unexpected turn for the best and worst.

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ Part 8 ~ Part 9 ~ Part 10

The train approached the station right on time, the brakes smoothing out right onto the platform. By now, the train station was busy with people. It wouldn’t be hard to lose someone within the crowd. That was why it was so important to tag the targets instead of relying on eyesight alone.

From a suitable distance, the 141 tailed Makarov’s men, making sure to blend in when necessary. It wasn’t hard to look like one of the many groups of tourists in Paris. An odd group, but a group nonetheless. Soon enough, you halted the chase, allowing the targets to head to their destination. If you followed them all the way to their secret entrance, you all would be spotted immediately. For now, it was wise to head to a hotel spot nearby and track the targets by computer. The men weren’t used to hotel hopping so much. According to you, it was much less conspicuous to stay in a hotel rather than a guarded building on behalf of the United States government.

Not that they were complaining. They were grateful to have comfortable beds while on a mission. There were many, many missions that required them to sleep on the ground. Sometimes they didn’t have sleeping bags or cots with them. The actual beds have led to most of them getting better rest than normal.

This hotel looked just about the same as the last one. Pretty generic, clean, and only local art on the walls that looked similar to the many artists on the streets. The room pairing was the same as well. Soap and Ghost in a room, Price and Gaz in the other, and one all to yourself. You didn’t mind bunking with any of them if it was necessary. Right now, it just wasn’t.

Ghost was a little disappointed that you didn’t invite him to stay with you, but he wasn’t surprised. Admittedly, a part of him did love the chase. He also had a new motivation when it came to you. Complete the mission and convince you to stay. He knew that you were wavering when it came to the possibility of going back off the grid after everything was over. While he wasn’t sure what you would end up doing if you decided to stick with him, he didn’t care. He just wanted you by his side.

Perhaps if you could see how capable he was during the final stages of the mission, you would.

You all sat in a bedroom, carefully tracking the targets and their luggage. On a large map, Gaz began to trace the trail for Paris on the surface. Price was going through local cameras as well to determine their secret entrance. Soap was looking at a laptop that kept track of them with red dots. All of it took coordination and relying on each other. When it came down to it, the 141 was like a well-oiled machine.

As soon as Gaz noticed that the tracking route didn’t match the Paris roads and Price lost sight, Ghost and you began tracking the targets on a different map. A massive map of the catacombs. When men went one way while the luggage went the other, you both picked out a focus and traced them on the map. The targets went deeper into the catacombs each minute, amplifying just how dangerous this mission was going to be.

The targets were far from where tourists were allowed to be. It seemed like they were venturing into parts that haven’t even been discovered yet. If the 141 wasn’t careful, they could get lost or die. Whichever came last.

The team spent hours mapping it all out. By the time you all had a better grip on the labyrinth layout, it was nightfall.

You’ve skipped lunch with the team in order to memorize the route. Worst case scenarios, you lose light or lose the map. Memorizing the routes could save you if the worst happened. It took you a long time, though. By the time you did, you were starving for dinner.

Thankfully, Simon saved a room service plate for you. He didn’t like the fact that you skipped lunch, but he decided it wasn’t worth the fight. All that mattered was that you had something in your stomach for dinner. Not that you were completely engrossed in your meal to really enjoy it, though.

During dinner, you went over the plan with the team. It was proving to be much too dangerous to have all of you enter the maze of bones. There needed to be backup on the surface. It was finally decided that you, Ghost, and Gaz would go into the labyrinth while Price and Soap tracked you from above. Before leaving, you would plant trackers on yourselves. Then, after entering the maze, Ghost and Gaz would separate from you to head to a different part of the catacombs for standby. You would follow the target route, refine the map with new discoveries, and find Makarov to assassinate him.

If Makarov wasn’t there, you would call him there. However, that meant spending a night underground.

As everyone geared up in their rooms, you sat alone in yours. You’ve never been nervous about a mission before. You have always kept your cool, confident that you would be able to finish the job no matter what happened. In and out. Undetected. The fear of death never even had you anxious. Now? Now it was different. There were actually many things on the line for you. Too much at stake to make any mistakes.

There was a soft knock on your door before it opened up. Simon stood in his full gear. Bulletproof vest, helmet, boots. Everything that told the world that he was a soldier. As much as you wanted to admire it, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. Instead, your gaze focused on your twiddling thumbs.

“Hey, you alright?” He came closer, kneeling in front of you to see your face better. Having you be nervous was making him nervous. What could possibly have you, the greatest assassin in the world, rattled?

In response, you shook your head. “I never feared death because I never had a life. It’s different now.”

“Oh. . . Hex. . .” He called out, his gloved hand caressing your cheek. For the first time, you leaned into his gentle touch. It nearly had his heart explode for you.

“Sorry. This won’t be a problem once I’m down there and I find my groove. I’ll be okay.” You reassured him and yourself. Giving yourself a pep-talk was new too.

Just for a moment, Simon wanted to share this short time with you. To be the one to calm your nerves. He lifted his mark partially up, kissing you deeply to break your anxious thoughts. When his kiss finally registered in your brain, you couldn’t help but kiss him back like it was the last kiss you would ever share with him. If things went wrong, it may very well be.

When he pulled away, his eyes were sharp. Confident. “You’ll be perfect. I know you will.”

Your chest stung painfully at his words of encouragement. Focusing on what could go wrong wasn’t helping you believe in yourself. All you needed to believe in was Ghost. With a resolute nod, you accept his support. “Yeah. I’ll be perfect. Thank you.”

His heart swelled at your quick recovery. If he could, he would follow you all the way through the catacombs and back.

Simon gave you one last kiss before pulling down his mask again, already missing the feeling of your lips pressed against his. You felt that absence as well, hating and loving that you could now never imagine a life without his kisses. That just made you more determined to finish the job with grace just how you’ve always done.

In the dead of night, Ghost quietly peeled back a manhole cover, revealing nothing but sewer at the bottom. Gaz raised a brow at the reveal, expecting to see bones on bones already. You double checked the map to make sure this was the correct entry point. Unfortunately, it was.

One by one, you climbed down to the sewers, careful not to land in the waters. Ghost spoke into his earpiece. “Entry successful. Can you read us?”

“Crystal clear, Lt. Be careful down there. Who knows just how many of Makarov’s men are there.” Price stressed, carefully watching the monitor from the safety of the hotel bedroom. Soap was tasked with coordinating a mass arrest and seize of weapons once Makarov was confirmed dead. He was on the phone coordinating the plan while Price focused on his team under Paris.

Carefully, you made your way through the sewers, following the same path as the targets from earlier. The walk already felt long as it was dark, cold, and quiet save the sound of water dripping every so often. No chit chat. No small talk. All focus.

Eventually, you all came across a dead end. Gaz and Ghost began to feel the wall, trying to determine if there was a secret they were missing. You checked the map to confirm your positions. Just as Gaz swiped his hands over the left side of the wall, he felt something out of place. A piece of brick that jutted out just slightly compared to the others. When he pressed down on it, the wall popped open, waiting to be opened like a door. Gaz relayed the information to his captain while you marked it on the map. On Price’s end, he marked a similar map, wanting to match yours with each new discovery.

Beyond the wall was nothing but pitch black darkness. There was no light for what seemed like miles. When you all turned on your flashlights, you were met with the remains of people from floor to ceiling. Bones dating back hundreds of years surround you. It was eerie. It was somehow a little worse than being surrounded by freshly dead bodies. Perhaps it was the more profound sense of death that made the endless halls feel grim.

Ghost couldn’t help but feel a bit creeped out as well. Skulls were his signature icon, wearing one right on his face. Yet here, it didn’t feel right to wear his mask so blatantly. It was like all of his kills were haunting him now through the bones of thousands.

Gaz let out a shuddering breath, trying to get himself under control. It wasn’t a pretty sight, being down there. He wondered how the hell tourists felt so excited to visit this place voluntarily.

For you, it all just felt like a bad omen.

“Let’s go. We don’t want to linger for too long.” You announced, trying to shake the heebie jeebies off your shoulders. The others followed closely, listening for human life when their flashlights didn’t reach far enough into the depths.

After walking for a few miles, you finally approached the anticipated fork in the path. It was time to go your separate ways for now. As you stared down your path, you took off your jacket along with your tracker. Ghost’s eyes narrowed, a fire already erupting in his chest. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The stagnant air was cold, already giving you goosebumps beneath your long-sleeved shirt. “They may search me if we need to go with Plan B. As soon as they find the tracking device, radio, and earpiece, they’ll kill me. Or capture me for interrogation. Either way, that’s not ideal.”

“How are we supposed to know where you are then? How are we supposed to communicate?” Gaz question, growing worried about your sudden decision as well.

You threw your jacket to Kyle, him catching it with his fast reflexes. Ghost clenched his jaw tight, almost cracking teeth. He didn’t like this one bit. But, if this is how you perfected your craft, he had no choice but to accept it.

From your pocket, you took out a small bobby pin that matched the color of your hair. You pressed the button on the end, causing it to start connecting to the 141’s earpieces. A new dot popped up on the monitor that Price still watched as well. Through the bobby pin, you spoke softly, your voice coming through their ears. “This is a new piece me and Kate have been working on for a while. It’s more discreet. This will be hidden in my hair and less likely to get spotted even with a search. Any complaints?”

“Hear you loud and clear, Hex. Good thinking, bringing a discreet backup. I’ll have to ask Kate to get me one of those.” Price praised, lightening the mood. Ghost still had complaints, but he kept them to himself for now. There was something heavier weighing him down.

Simon didn’t want to split up. He thought that he would have no problem with it back in the hotel room when he was comforting you. Right at the moment, however, he didn’t want you to go. Especially without your jacket.

Before you could go off on your own, he pulled you in for a tight hug, not caring if Garrick saw. Kyle, being pretty intelligent about these things, pretended that he didn’t see anything and turned around. Simon would have to treat him to a drink later.

“Be careful, kitten.” He squeezed you tight, the hug almost crushing your lungs. In response, you wrapped your arms around him too. Well, as much as you could with all that gear on him.

Reluctantly, he let you go, allowing you to look up at him once more before turning to disappear into the darkness. When Simon turned to go on their designated path, he heard a familiar voice snicker in his ear.

Soap was having a little laugh. “Kitten?”

“Can it before I decide to add a new set of bones down here.” He threatened, something that even you heard from down your skull-decorated corridor.

In the cover of darkness and a faint flashlight, you made your way down the catacombs. At this point, you were completely relying on your map and instincts. The halls never seemed to end. It was so difficult to determine how much further you needed to go as well. Taking a deep breath every step, you moved forward.

Suddenly, there was a yellow light in the distance. One that casted haunting shadows on the walls. There were voices too. Voices engaged in casual conversation like it was a regular Tuesday night at work. This was it. You were finally close to finding the main center of this operation.

Hiding in the shadows, you waited for the men to pass before going down the path behind them. More light illuminated the way, ensuring that even Makarov’s men could come back safely. The confidence Makarov had in this secret was amazing. Few guards, a few too many lights, and footsteps standing out on the dirt floor. It didn’t take long for you to figure out the guards’ path pattern either.

You lowered your voice to a whisper, the bobby pin coming in clutch. “Found their hub. Preparing to infiltrate now.”

“Copy that. Ghost and Gaz are in position as well. Keep us updated, Hex.” Price answered back, carefully watching your new dot enter the heart of the operation. Hopefully, if things went well, he was planning on trying to convince to stay with the team as well. You’ve been a good influence on the group. You’ve challenged them to think outside the box, take the time to think about unexpected possibilities, and to rely on the psychological aspects.

John couldn’t remember the last time they were so close to catching Makarov since his escape from prison. It felt like they’ve been chasing after him for forever. The fact that you were able to get a step ahead of him, something the 141 has failed to do until now, meant a lot. The fact that you were willing to put yourself so close to danger spoke volumes about your character too.

The team could really use someone like you.

For now, Price would table that conversation for later. He needed you to come back safe first.

Sneaking around the operation was quite easy for you. The guards were pretty lax in terms of security. With how narrow the catacombs were and how many boxes of weapons they had, you were able to get pretty perfect cover. On your map, you marked down where you were as well as the amount of weapons were down with you. You relayed the information to Price and Soap, them also take note of it on their side.

Everything was going smoothly. Except, there was no sign of Makarov anywhere. Not even a mention of his name from his men. You had a bit more area to explore, but that seemed like a waste of time. There was no evidence in knowing if Makarov would come personally within the next hour or the next week. You were genuinly hoping that it wouldn’t have to come down to this. “No sign of Makarov. No evidence of future arrival. Plan B.”

From Ghost’s position, he and Gaz looked to each other. It looked like they were going to be down there longer than planned. They did have the option to leave and come back later when Makarov does finally arrive, but they would never do that to you. Not after all that you’ve done for them. They were going to stay down here with you for as long as it will take. Ghost confidently spoke into his earpiece. “We’ll be here.”

“Plan B is a go.” Price confirmed, his muscles tensing up more than they were before. Everyone was feeling more tense. They were nervous for you.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was going to happen. Then, you emerged from the shadows, hands up in surrender. It took a whistle to get someone to notice you. Once someone did, everyone was pointing their guns at you. Questions were yelled out to you in different languages you couldn’t understand. It wasn’t until someone big and burly came over and spoke to you in English that things could get a move on.

“You! Who are you?! How did you come down here?” He growled, his finger hovering over the trigger of his pistol.

Calmly, you explained yourself, careful not to make any sudden movements. “I’m an assassin. I wish to speak to Makarov for employment.”

“And you infultrate our operation to do so? How do I even know that you aren’t lying to me? Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you now and save everyone the trouble.” He argued, his muscles aching to fill you with bullets. Something about you didn’t seem right to him. However, he couldn’t say that he wasn’t impressed that you had found their operation.

“I consent to a search if it will make you feel better. All I have is a knife in my boot and a twin pistols on my hips in terms of weapons. Take them. I figured that sneaking in like this would catch attention. I’m pretty good at my job. I can be a very valuable asset.” You promised, hands still in the air, not even flinching to defend yourself.

The men looked between each other, silently trying to decide what to do with you. Their boss gestured to your body, prompting a few men to take your weapons off your person. Paranoia of more was quelled thanks to you wearing tight clothes. “She’s clear.”

“Anyone follow you down?” The boss asked, his tone becoming more relaxed.

You shook your head and chuckled a little. “I wouldn’t be a very good assassin if there was. Search me for communication tools.”

They were buying your performance, not even realizing that they were taking orders from you like dogs. The 141 listened carefully through your bobby pin, fists clenched as they tried to keep it together. They couldn’t help it. They were protective of you now.

Ghost heard the shuffle of clothing, imagining how those men have their dirty fucking hands on you for a thorough search. He wanted to storm right through the catacombs to you like a demon from hell to cut their hands off. Doing so would compromise the mission, but it would probably feel worth it. He had to bite his cheek when he heard you hiss.

Someone got a little too handsy with their search, your tone biting as if you really will bite. “Hey! Watch your fucking hands!”

“Just being thorough, girl. Follow me.” The leader finally said, his men ushering you along right behind him. Price and Soap carefully tracked your position, making sure that their map would be able to lead them right to you when the time came as you were unable to update yours.

You were led to a more open corridor that was divided into sections almost like rooms. In one of them was a small table, two chairs, and a small battery lantern, much like a makeshift interrogation room. You were guided to have a seat, to which you complied. Across from you sat the one in charge around here while a couple of men with rifles manned the exit. The rest dispersed, business as usual.

“So, you’re telling me that you want to help Makarov. Why?” He questioned carefully, his eyes scanning you for any kind of slip up. Any indication that you weren’t who you said you were.

You leaned back in your chair casually, arms across your chest. “I’m only interested in going through an interview with Makarov himself.”

He have a mocking laugh, not knowing that he was eating right out of your palm already. “What makes you think he’s gonna come all the way here just to interview you? What do you think this is? A cooperate job? Why do you think you are so special?”

Smirking, you shrugged your shoulders. “I found and broke into this operation, didn’t I? You may have the rest of the world fooled, but if I can waltz right through your skeleton entrance, it won’t be long until your enemies do. You guys need help. I can provide that.”

He raised a brown and stroked his chin in thought, his brain mulling your words over. You had a point. By the time they noticed you, you were already right in the middle of their big secret. There was obviously a loose end somewhere. Makarov wouldn’t be happy with that. Perhaps they could use the support of a skilled assassin.

“What’s your name, girl?” He asked, interest piqued.

“Don’t have one. Wouldn’t be a good assassin if I did.” You lied effortlessly like it really was the truth.

A few seconds passed before he finally took the bait. If anything, Makarov would kill you instantly the moment he suspects something wrong. The ghost weapon parts were going to need a final approval too before being shipped out.

With a heavy sigh, he caved. “Alright, girlie. I’ll leave this business you have with Makarov. You have to stay here, though. Unless told otherwise, you will not leave this room.”

You were left alone in the open room, obeying the order for the sake of the mission. You could hear some sighs of relief from the bobby pin close to your ear hidden within your hair. First part was over. However, that didn’t mean that the hardest part was done with. Things were only going to get more tense from here on out.

You spend hours sitting and doing nothing. You couldn’t even engage in any conversation with the 141. If you weren’t going to die from a bullet, you were going to die from boredom. When the boss of the catacombs operation came back, you nearly sighed in relief. “Makarov will be here within the next twenty-four hours or so. Until then, you are confined here. Good luck, girl.”

After that brief interaction, he left once again, leaving you to wait out even more. No food. No water. Little light. Nothing to do but wait.

The same went for the 141. At least they had each other in closer proximity, though. You, on the other hand, had no one by your immediate side. Hopefully, this would be the last time you would have to be alone like this.

There was no telling if it was still night or day. There was no telling as to how much time has actually passed. Ghost and Gaz had been quite on their end, cutting of communication briefly to avoid you or them being discovered. Soap and Price were silent too, trying to work out final steps on their end. After a certain period of time, you truly felt isolated. This wasn’t like being alone in your cabin. There, you had the sounds of nature surrounding you, books to read, things to do. You could see sunlight and moonlight from your windows.

Here, there was nothing but bones, dirt, and the tiny light of the lantern. Even the men guarding you decided to turn in for some rest, situating themselves further away from you, but still in close enough range to notice an escape attempt.

A chill ran through you, making you rub your arms with your hands. You were beginning to get tired and hungry. Just as you tried to slip into a cat nap to pass the time, a low voice woke you back up. Hearing it felt like you were being brought back to the land of the living. “Hey, kitten. How are you holding up?”

You didn’t say anything back for a moment, listening for eavesdroppers. Your voice dropped to a whisper so faint that it was like a spirit speaking. “Fine. You sure you want to keep using that nickname right now?”

“I had Price patch us for a private line for a moment. Gaz is sweeping the areas around us. It’s just you and me.” Ghost reassured, grateful to hear your voice like this. He didn’t like you being isolated the way you were. At the very least, he hoped that his voice would provide you with enough company to tie you over for several more hours.

Your heart felt lighter already just hearing his voice through the pin. Quietly, you go up from the chair to lay on the floor, not caring if you were getting dirt all over yourself. You just needed to stretch your back and legs out. Try to relax as best as you could. “What time is it out there?”

“Nearly noon. It doesn’t feel like it.” He groaned, hardly believing that there was sunlight somewhere himself. It was way too damn dark under Paris.

“Tell me about it. I can’t tell if only a couple minutes have passed or a couple hours. Time seems to stand still down here. The skeletons aren’t helping.” You half-joked, causing Ghost to actually chuckle. The dark sense of humor that you were demonstrating now made him miss you more than he already did.

A moment of comfortable silence passed between the two of you, both of you feeling more secure in the dark now that you have heard each other’s voices. Yet, an unsettling feeling began to take over your stomach, tying it in knots. “Ghost?”

“Yeah?”

“If anything goes wrong, you’re prepared to say goodbye to me, right?” You shakily breathed out.

The nature of your whisper still nearly knocked the wind right out of him. The way you said it, like it was an absolute, an unavoidable inevitable, scared him. Genuinely. “I won’t let something like that happen. I’m not gonna lose you.”

Suddenly, you bolted up from the floor, ears trained on a sound you heard further down the catacombs. You almost thought that it was just the illusion of darkness getting to you until you heard it again. Faint chatter from afar. A familiar voice that you have only heard through tv speakers.

“Y/n.” You confessed your real name to him with a heavy heart.

Simon almost didn’t register it. His heart nearly stopped beating. “What?”

“Y/n. My name is Y/n.”

Before he could say anything, let alone find the words to say, he heard the chattering too from your end. The voice was undeniable. Quickly, he radioed Price to reestablish the communication lines again. “Captain. It’s Makarov. He’s arrived early.”

You returned to your chair, dusting yourself off just before the man of the hour entered your line of sight. With a sinister smile, he entered your room and took a seat across from you. “It’s not every day that I have someone demand to go through an interview with me. In fact, I never held a formal interview before. Nor took demands from anyone. This better be worth my time.”

“Trust me, Makarov. The information and help I have for you is gonna be worth both of our time. I would be lying if I said that their was something out of this for me too.” You faked a gracious smile, something you weren’t sure was selling it enough.

Thankfully, you had Makarov’s attention. For now.

“I’m listening.”

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huramuna · 2 months

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banshee's lament - chapter 2.

aemond targaryen x stark ofc minor jacaerys velaryon x stark ofc masterlist prev | next

a former ward of alicent hightower and aemond's childhood companion, shera stark, returns to king's landing after ten years. ten years after the incident at driftmark that left her and aemond permanently disfigured. after so many years apart, shera and aemond are almost strangers. almost.

shera's voice sounds like blue diamond in this clip. a soft, dreamy whisper.

wordcount: 4.2k

@huramuna-fics - follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings! no taglists right now, sorry.

content: smut, angst, fluff, disabled ofc, aemond being delulu & obsessive, major canon divergence, ofc has a service direwolf, i'm taking canon rules and putting them in a blender and taking a shot, arranged marriage, graphic depictions of violence

story playlist

She’d never ventured south before and her nose wrinkled at the thought. What does the south have that the north doesn’t? Warmth, mayhaps– but you can easily make that with a fire! Pretty silks and lots of fruit, she was told. Shera wasn’t entirely sure what use she would have for pretty silks, as they'd dirty right away if she ventured in the snow– and fruit. Surely there wasn’t anything better than freshly picked blackberries and blueberries.

The little girl couldn’t sit still in the wheelhouse as she poked her head to the sliding wood window, brown eyes trying to gauge the landscape. It was certainly green! They had been on the road for a moon and a half and Shera was about to pull out her hair from boredom. The stewardess, Warra, that her father had stowed away with her for the journey, irritated Shera to no end.

‘Sit down!’

‘Stitch inward, not outward.’

‘You’re fraying the thread, be gentle.’

If looks could kill, the poor stewardess would be dead within the first week of the journey. Warra glared back at the impudent child, thinking the exact same thought.

“You must be Shera Stark,” a young woman cooed, who had greeted the little girl at her arrival to the keep. Her hair was the same shade as Shera’s. She was dressed in a green dress, and it reminded the little girl of the pine forests beyond Winterfell. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Nice to meet… you,” Shera returned, curtsying with a small wobble. “M’lady.”

Shera felt an odd connection to the woman almost instantaneously, her arms held out for a hug. At the age of five, she was still very much a baby, and craved the warm touch of another person. “Are you my mumma now?” she whispered.

“Oh,” the woman murmured. “You may call me Alicent,” she added, looking slightly confused at the little girl’s request for an embrace. Alicent stared at the child for a moment, seeing herself reflected in her huge brown eyes. She scooped her up and held Shera to her hip. “It’s scary being here all alone, isn’t it?”

–

The south was no place for a wolf, she feared. Not only her own wolf, but herself as well. She heard their whispers as she arrived in the city, the stares of prying eyes, wishing to catch a glimpse of the infamous Banshee of Winterfell.

‘Twas an ugly name, Shera thought. Banshees were decrepit creatures with haunting yowls and spindling claws like cracked branches– was she truly so ugly? She hardly spoke, no less screamed, lest she awaken the still tender pain against her neck. Sometimes she would hum a broken tune from her girlhood days, but she would hardly call that a song.

The journey had taken over half a moon and was as agonizingly long as she remembered from her girlhood, even more so now. Cregan opted to leave her alone in the wheelhouse while he rode outside on his horse. She’d much rather be upon horseback than in the sweltering carriage— the movements made her ill, and she spent much of the time with her face firmly supplanted into Moongeist’s fur.

Jacaerys had offered to take Shera to King’s Landing by dragonback before they left.

“It would be a much faster and easier journey, my lady. It is even easier than riding horseback.” he exclaimed, his dragon just now grown enough to saddle two. Vermax loomed in the background on the snow laden grass, sniffing the air and making soft trilling noises. He reminded Shera of a whippoorwill.

“I… I would very much love to, my prince— but I would be blind without Moongeist with me upon arrival and I do not think Vermax would take kindly to another passenger who weighs more than you and I — and is a wolf.” she said softly. Shera wished to keep both feet supplanted on the ground— she would never acclimate to flying upon a dragon or being ferried by ship. She was prone to seasickness, and imagined dragonback no different.

Moongeist pressed to her hip, guiding her and keeping her on a straight path. Shera’s fingers laced through the thick fur of the wolf, who’d become somewhat of a guardian for her since the incident ten years ago. The loss of vision in her eye threw off her calibration of the world, often leaving her lost and clinging to walls. Cregan had procured the wolf as a pup, six moons after Shera’s return to Winterfell– she hardly remembered Moongeist as a puppy, as she lived on milk of the poppy and venison stew broth for a year.

The now gigantic wolf, Cregan citing him as a Winter King’s direwolf, acted as Shera’s eyes and balance. She could still see, of course, out of one eye– but her chronic pain debilitated her, rendering her into that sobbing, sniffling, poppy-addled child she was a decade ago. Cregan, whom Shera hardly knew when she returned, was very much the depiction of an angry wolf, pacing back and forth in the maester’s chambers for weeks. She didn’t remember much during those months, but she remembered the movement of Cregan’s shadow, bristled and looming like a creature out of fantasy.

And now she had returned to the place that started it all– ‘twas her home for eight years. Cregan was here, too, meeting with the Queen and Princess Rhaenyra on matters pertaining to Shera’s betrothal, a sign of goodwill from Alicent to somehow mend the rift between the Starks and the crown.

It all seemed very dreary to Shera. She didn’t wish to be looked at, perceived, much less married to a man, to whom she would have to share the intimacies of her disfiguration with and lay bare beneath.

Shera walked through the halls of Keep, fingers skimming over the familiar yet so foreign stone.

She looked very much like a ghost or banshee in her gown and veil, one she preferred to wear to conceal her scars, flitting through the corridors. She was often dreamy eyed, when people did see her eyes, and certainly was a touch maddened — especially since the accident at Driftmark.

She was a quiet, solemn woman now, tamed by the Queen into a proper young lady as a child under almost solely Queen Alicent’s eye as her ward— an unexpected oath that Viserys upheld, as he’d made a promise to Rickon Stark, the girl’s father, many years before. She had come to King’s Landing at the tender age of five.

Alicent brought up Shera as she saw fit—sheltered and safe, softening her rough edges and wild nature. Shera became the perfect Hightower daughter that Alicent never had, who attended prayer, read the Pointed Star of the Seven front to back and served the Gods with honor, much to the chagrin of Cregan once she returned.

She adjusted her veil as she walked towards the holdfast, thankful for the shield from the resplendent sun. Her hair was coiled into a braided bun, pinned with silver jewelry.

Shera was much a Northern lady in her appearance now, with copper hair in billowing curls. Her hair hadn’t been trimmed much in her lifetime, and when unleashed from its braided confines, it would fall past her bottom. Her unblind eye was a deep brown, edging on black, and her blind one was a milky, pupil-less blue.

Her stomach churned with anticipation and she mostly felt like vomiting. Her hands were now clenched together tightly, white knuckled, as to distract herself. She wished to see the Queen first— a way to anchor herself to reality, and would be the easiest, along with Helaena, to reacquaint herself with.

As she reached the corridor that held the queen’s chambers at the end, it was oddly bereft of people. She watched as the heavy doors swung open and a svelte figure dressed in black receded from the solar. She blinked profusely, seeing the white hair, long and taken pristine care of— and pin straight. That couldn’t be Aegon, could it?

The figure turned after closing the doors, facing Shera’s direction, who was still at the very end of a long corridor. It was not Aegon. The leather eyepatch gave it away instantly— Aemond. He had gotten tall, much taller than she by at least a foot.

They made eye contact, violet to brown— he paused, lips pursed. His form went rigid as he clearly acknowledged her presence; but said nothing.

Shera said nothing, either. The wind was taken out of her lungs, stolen by him, it seemed.

His one eye widened in surprise, then narrowed. She couldn’t parse the nature of his expression besides cold, hard steel. His fists clenched and unclenched— and he walked away in the other direction, a corridor off to the left, towards the ramparts. Away from Shera. Purposefully.

“A-Aem,” she attempted to raise her voice to call to him, but was stopped by the sting of pain. “Aem—!” she croaked again, persisting past her limits.

He looked at her again and kept going, going… until he was out of sight. Gone.

Shera wracked a cough, clutching her throat. What… was that? Did he just flee from her? She pushed her utter confusion (and ever creeping despair) aside, knocking on the queen’s door.

A handmaiden, Talya, answered. “Her grace is expecting company— if you haven’t a prior engagement, you must return later.”

“‘Tis… ‘tis the company,” Shera murmured, suppressing the urge to hack up a lung. “Shera Stark.”

The handmaiden’s eyes widened with a gleam of recognition, confusion, and then pity— she stepped aside, bowing her head.

How Shera tired of those expressions being thrown in her direction. She passed through the threshold, a shaky hand gripped into Moongeist’s fur.

“Oh— Shera?” Alicent echoed, standing up from the settee she was perched upon. She was radiant, to say the least— her hair was shorter than it had been before, but she hadn’t aged much. Aside from a lingering shadow beneath her eyes and in the depths of her irises. She was tired. “By the Seven, I hardly recognized you, my dear.”

“Your grace,” Shera whispered in greeting, once again curtsying with wobbly legs. As much as she anticipated seeing Aemond, she wished it’d been after she greeted his mother— she felt the part of a ruffled hen, her fragile demeanor temporarily cracked. “It’s… good to see you— you haven’t aged a day.”

Alicent rushed to her, only slightly phased by Moongeist, who stood now off to the side in preparations for the Queen’s no doubt touchy-feely welcome. “Your voice,” Alicent murmured, her large brown eyes wide, lips downturned. “It’s… you’re very quiet now, my sweet.” she swallowed, putting her arms around the woman— who now, inherently flinched. Shera, as a child, loved to be showered in physical affection, and loved to be hugged, kissed and snuggled by Alicent. But now, she flinched. Only for a moment— she had to get used to it again, she was much a spooked horse, skittish.

Shera nodded slowly as Alicent led her to sit. “Yes— I… I cannot sing any longer, I am deeply sorry, your grace.” she looked down at her hands.

Shera loved to sing as a child, Aemond listening to her songs, usually ones associated with the Faith of the Seven, and hummed along while he studied. They were both outcasted children, bullied and poked at to a point where they recused themselves into one another, communicating in a language that they made up— a combination of High Valyrian, which Aemond had lovingly taught Shera at the same time he was learning it, and gibberish.

“It was a terrible thing, what happened that day,” the queen said, pouring them both tea. “It was a terrible thing with naught justice brought.”

Shera sipped at the tea, letting out a soft sigh as the warm liquid soothed her irritated throat. “… I remember nary a bit, your grace— only…” she clenched the cup tightly, the memories of that day flooding back.

“You!” one of the twins bellowed.

“‘Tis I.”

“You claimed my mother’s dragon– you stole Vhagar!”

“You cannot steal a dragon.” Shera huffed, proverbial feathers already fluffed.

“I do not remember.” Shera corrected herself.

“I wish I could forget– I still remember it… all too well.” Alicent echoed. “... you must know, I– we rejoiced with the Gods when we heard we hadn’t lost you. I am remiss that we did not get a chance to say goodbye, though.”

The scream that she would never forget– the slash of Lucerys’ blade piercing and mangling Aemond’s eye.

It was a wail that haunted her dreams still.

Shera could hardly react– did they want to kill him? Were they going to kill her? She moved, shoving Lucerys down, his head hitting the wall, the blade skidding in the dust. Where were the guards? Where were the adults? Where was anyone?

As Lucerys began to cry, blood trickling from his head, Jacaerys went into a rage– fists swinging with a crooked look in his eye that Shera was afraid he would kill her. If she were to die in a skirmish, she would go down with a fight! Barreling toward Jace, she supplanted her weight into the center of his chest, scratching at his face and snapping her jaws like a rabid dog.

Then she was pushed back– but not by Jacaerys. ‘Twas Baela, the more brazen of the dragon twins. She shoved Shera back, brandishing the same dagger that Lucerys had used– it was still dripping with Aemond’s blood. She wasn’t as close as they had been, but the cut was the same, slitting up Shera’s eye as her vision filled with blood. She felt dizzy and could hardly hear herself scream over Aemond’s wails– she was silent, sputtering for breath.

“Kill her! She’s going to tell on us, Baela!” one of the other kids had cried. Shera couldn’t remember who.

Her body went into shock– she didn’t even feel the knife slice her throat, her mumbles coming out as garbled choking, spitting up blood–

Her hand went to her throat absentmindedly, feeling the raised scar where she’d been slashed by that damned knife. The maesters said it was an act of the Gods that it didn’t hit a prominent vein— but as the Gods give, they taketh away. She couldn’t sing any longer, nor hardly talk above a whisper, and was not able to see out of one of her eyes. It wasn’t taken out like Aemond’s, but muted into a milky blue color.

“... I’ve missed you much, your grace,” Shera uttered, her hand snaking to Alicent’s as she clutched it with a small tremble.

“We cannot change the past, Shera– we can only… forge our future,” Alicent returned her squeeze with a smile, brows downturned. “... do you wish to marry him, my dear?”

Shera breathed audibly. Did she want to? Was that her wish? No– of course it wasn’t. It wasn’t– Jace had changed much since the incident on Driftmark, but she feared how to tell him that she would wake up sobbing from nightmares about him, about him and his brother and his cousins, brutalizing her. It was twisted, in truth, how when they would share a bed, how they would have to conceive an heir, how she would have to let him touch her. He would be gentle, she knew, he would let her take her time and be studious and princely and all the things encompassing the future King after his mother– but she wouldn’t be able to truly look at him without thinking of that, of the pain, the blood filling her throat, gurgling and drowning in her own life’s essence–

“... yes, your grace.” Shera responded. “I wish to… marry Jacaerys Velaryon and mend the rift between the crown and the Starks.”

Alicent’s brow furrowed and she regarded Shera for a long moment before nodding. “Then… it shall be done.”

–

Shera felt her skin prickle into goosebumps as she left the queen’s solar. She felt flustered, like she’d been pricked in the bum by a thousand needles– she sorely needed to go to the Weirwood and pray. As she turned to abscond to the ramparts, she was stopped. A pair of arms boxed her against the wall, the scent of dragon and sandalwood overwhelming her senses. Moongeist let out a growl at the intruder, but Shera silenced him with a hand gesture. She knew who it was, of course– she carefully lifted her gaze to him. Aemond.

“Ñuha dārilaros,” My prince, she murmured in High Valyrian– she had rehearsed her greeting to him so many times over the years in her head. Her eyes roved over his form, taking in all of the changes of nearly a decade. He was tall, so much taller than she was now, his once curled hair straightened to a point. His aquiline nose led to his mouth, pursed in anticipation, in challenge. “… it’s good to see you.”

Aemond’s brow furrowed, his hands still boxing in, as if he were the wolf and she the prey. He looked like a shadow of the boy she once knew— he had all the makings of a predator now, a true dragon in his own right. “Shera,” he grunted. “I’m surprised you remember our lessons, I can’t imagine you use it much anymore, talking to weirwood trees and wolves, or not talking much at all, I’ve heard.” his voice was so laissez-faire, but it held an unmistakable edge to it, like a sheathed blade.

Her jaw clenched at his tone. She wasn’t expecting a warm reunion like no time had passed, but she wasn’t expecting to be iced out, either. Her mouth twinged in irritation, bleeding into a pang of sorrow in her chest. They had been so close all those years ago, so close that at times it felt they were fused as one— was he so unhappy to see her? She instinctively thumbed over her choker again, poking the tip of her finger into the cool threading to anchor herself. Moongeist pressed to her hip, sensing her change in emotion. The wolf stared at Aemond before nudging Shera’s hand atop his head in an effort to calm her. “I may not speak it much anymore… but I still remember. We learned it together.”

Aemond’s hand reached out to inspect the veil concealing her face between his thumb and forefinger, as if testing its worth. His violet eye roamed over the outline of her face— he couldn’t quite see all of her from behind the wretched garment, which seemingly agitated him. “You always had such an excellent memory, my lady. You look much like the banshee they say you are with this… veil. Why do you insist on wearing such a thing, it mustn’t be so terrible under there, is it? Not like mine– they took it out. I heard you still have yours, don't you?” he paused, “Why have you returned?” he tugged on the laced curtain, earning him an annoyed whine from Shera and a rumbling growl from Moongeist. He was so callous now, so rough— like unhewn wood, splintering at the edges.

“I wear it for the same reason you wear your eyepatch– It appears that my brother, your mother and sister, as well as the Gods have other plans for me. I’m to be betrothed.” Shera whispered back, her hand going to her throat as she felt an acute pain from raising her voice a bit too high.

Aemond’s pupil wavered as he looked her over, concerned over her mewl of pain, then the realization of what she’d said coming over him. “Betrothed,” he said, his voice flat and clipped. “Betrothed,” he repeated again, his grip on her veil increasing. “And who is it? Who dares to try and claim the banshee of Winterfell? I always thought it would be me to claim you, hm? But you ran away to the North and replaced me with a dog.” he eyed the giant black and gray wolf with a curled lip.

A flush of heat came to her cheeks. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me such things, it's a nasty name. I didn’t expect you of all people to pay attention to court gossip,” she scoffed. “It’s none of your concern whom I’m to marry, Aemond.” Shera let out a breath.

“Who. Is. It?” he continued, spitting each word through gritted teeth.

“That isn’t for me to say. Your mother wishes to announce it formally at dinner tonight.” Shera distanced herself from him as he rescinded now, allowing her some breathing room. She smoothed down her dress and fixed her veil. She sighed inwardly, based on his reaction now, that once Alicent announces her betrothed tonight, he will lose it. She can only speculate how severely he will react when he finds out that his once close companion is being betrothed to someone he loathes.

He squinted slightly, resting his hands behind his back, foot planted carefully on the ground. “I pray then,” he said with somewhat condescension, “that they aren’t terribly important— all the easier for them to be charred fodder for Vhagar’s belly.”

Shera snorted, twisting her sapphire signet ring on her middle finger, shaking her head. “You jest, my prince.”

“Not a jest, sweet wolf. Think of it as a promise.”

“You cannot,” she glanced up, her veil rippling with the sudden movement of her head. “You’re unbelievable, do you know that?”

“What is so unbelievable about my promise?”

“You act as if you have a claim over me, Aemond,” she whispered his name, her voice taut as she swallowed a sting of pain from the sudden change in tone. “No one has a claim over me, least of all you.” she coughed, her hand clutching her throat as she awkwardly took in a breath, stretching the limits of her injured vocal cords. Shera let out a strained sigh, shaking her head.

Aemond’s nostrils flared at her words, his jaw clenching. “No one? And yet, you let your brother sell you off like a broodmare. Or mayhaps a prized bitch.” he glanced at the wolf at their feet. “You’ll let him sully you? That basta–,”

Another voice broke the heated conversation. “Brother,” a cool tone said. It was Rhaenyra, on her way to Alicent’s solar. “… Shera.” she squinted slightly, violet eyes darting between Moongeist and the pair.

“Sister.” Aemond responded, clipped and short.

“Princess,” Shera greeted shakily, bowing her head.

“We shall see you tonight at dinner, won’t we, Aemond?” Rhaenyra asked, cocking her head.

“I suppose I can be persuaded. I’m quite busy, though and don’t have much time for idle pleasantries.” he dipped his head, facing away from Shera now. “Ladies.” he bid his farewell, stalking off like a half-cocked dragon.

Once he was out of earshot, Rhaenyra leaned close to Shera. “You should steer clear of my brother. You were companions once— but he’s different now,” she paused, taking a breath. “I only have your best interest at heart, dearest. For you and Jace.”

“… thank you, princess,” Shera swallowed, grasping her skirts. “I will… keep that in mind.”

Rhaenyra gave a nod before disappearing into Alicent’s chambers– leaving behind an exceedingly frazzled Shera, who retreated to the Godswood.

–

Kneeling down before the ancient weirwood, she clasped her hands together. “For guidance… for peace…” she murmured, staring at the face etched into the red wood, its eyes bleeding. It felt familiar, in a way.

“So, which is it? The Old Gods, or the new?” a deep voice interjected into her prayers. She didn’t recognize it at all. Glancing over, she took in the figure of an older man, dressed in black leather and cloth with white hair cropped to his shoulders. A sword was strapped to his waist. Dark Sister.

“Prince Daemon,” Shera sighed, not entirely up to verbally spar with the Rogue Prince. “... I am praying to the Old Gods, as is custom in the North.”

“Ah? And here I’d heard you were quite the little septa in your youth, singing hymns like a… delightful little sparrow.”

“... that isn’t untrue– I… I hold both the Old and new ways–”

“What does your brother think of such a thing? Northerners are so rigid in their worship.”

“It isn’t my brother’s concern–”

“Well, mayhaps you shall start learning of the Valyrian gods, if you’re to be married to Jacaerys.”

“I know… a few, my prince. Tessarion, Meraxes, Shrykos….” she paused, brow furrowing under her veil. “Vhagar.” Shera gave a pointed stare to Daemon.

“Ah, knowledgeable you are. You must be a bookworm like my dear nephew. But, you forgot quite a few– Syrax, Meleys, Arrax, Vermax, Caraxes… the list goes on. I won’t fault you for forgetting them. You have quite a few Gods on your plate already, young wolf.” Daemon gave a toothy smile, extending his hand to her. It was ungloved and looked calloused, old scars littering over his skin like shells on a beach. “Do you need assistance getting up?”

Against her better judgment, Shera took his hand. It was warm, unnaturally so like all of the Targaryens. He hoisted her up to her feet, steadying her with an overreaching hand upon her waist. It made her skin crawl.

“Very good,” he hummed. “Enjoy your prayers, Lady Stark.”

Moongeist grumbled uneasily next to her, eyeing the Rogue Prince with a wary amber gaze. Shera felt sick.

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