So I have a request if it’s alright with you of zhongli x phoenix reader since zhongli is a dragon right and there’s a lot of story’s apparently about a dragon and phoenix being a perfect match and I don’t know if this is true or not they represent Yin and Yang
𝐀𝐦𝐨𝐫 𝐀𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐮𝐬
A/N: I think I might make a continuation of this or something. I just love this idea, thanks for this, Anon! I did change Reader’s animal form from a phoenix to fenghuang since I feel is more fitting, so apologies for not meeting your exact request. And I’m also sorry for this ridiculously long wait, uni has been a pain. I don’t know how I feel about this piece, but I’ve kept it for months already and I think it’s well enough to post.
Fandom(s): Genshin Impact
Zhongli x (Adeptus)Wife Fem Reader
Summary: With the longest lasting relationship in all of Teyvat history, the union of Rex Lapis and Regina Lux is widely celebrated and respected across the seven nation than just Liyue. Even living as mortals now, your love remains, in story and present.
One-shot
Content: Reader is an adeptus fenghuang/phoenix sometimes mistaken for a firebird phoenix, romance, fluff, domesticity, Liyue Archon Quest, Liyue lore, Soft Zhongli, Retired/former Archon Zhongli, married Zhongli/Reader.
Warnings: None.
Main List | 𝐙𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢 𝐌.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | AO3
Feeling the familiar stir of your rousing consciousness, you sensed the familiar touch of a hand caressing your head. Gently stroking your locks of hairs before rubbing a thumb against your cheek.
Blinking your eyes open, you’re greeted with the familiar face of your husband staring back at you, warmth and adoration in his gold eyes. The corners of his lips rising a little upwards. He always seems to look at you as if you were the most ethereal thing on this planet after all these years together. But you knew that if he were asked that very question, that was already going to be his answer.
“Good morning, my love.” Morax, now Zhongli, softly greeted, voice calm and deep. He pushed a stray hair strand away from your face.
Usually sleeping shirtless, the real colors of his arms were out in the open. A gradient of pitch black from his shoulders to a light tint of gold from his hands, some black scales peeking out. The gold symbol rune lines trailing over his whole arms gave a faint glimmer amidst the dim darkness of your shared bedroom. Or more like nest, where an abundance of pillows and blankets and a mattress as a base were scattered about that looked more like a makeshift nest than a typical bed.
Although he sticks to wearing gloves and long sleeves, Zhongli still finds it nice to have them off, which revealed his gold markings. Visible proof of his godly identity. You liked to trace them with your own hands, twinkling cosmic irises admiring their details.
“Mm, morning..” you sigh, moving to huddle closer to his body.
Zhongli welcomes your presence automatically. Wrapping his arms around your waist loosely as you’re pressed against his chest. Typically preferring to wear his own dress shirts to sleep, as they were big enough to be nightgowns on you. You commonly wore them when you were able to stay at home with your husband.
Zhongli lets out a deep purr within his chest, a sound that came straight from a beast, but its tone calmer rather than aggressive or of warning. He always adored when you’d wear his shirts, the dragon side of him pleased to have you basked in a mix of both your scents and the statement that you were his. His lover, his wife. His one and only mate.
A purr of your own responded back, soft and gentle. A different contrast to his more deeply masculine one.
Being an adventurer for the Adventurer’s Guild meant always traveling somewhere. Which can also be unpredictable about where you’re going to with commissions. Though it was possible to make a request for more local locations. Even as an adeptus posing as a human, you had to blend in with the habits of a mortal.
Of course, Zhongli welcomely offers his own assistance to accompany you when he was available. Another way to spend time with you.
Your husband hugs you a little tighter as he presses a kiss to your forehead. Brushing through your locks of hair and playing with some of the coloured streaks. “Shall we get ready for the day, little mate? We have time to spend together before I must meet with the Traveler in the afternoon.”
It was an endearing nickname he gave you all those centuries ago, with the size difference between you. Though not by vast amount, it was clear in any form your husband’s height was more than yours.
You hum in response, “I suppose we should..” you snuggle closer, taking in his warmth and his familiar scent that completely relaxes you. “I do prefer when we get ready together.”
Zhongli smiles so softly, “You had been away for quite awhile, and I am always affected by your absence.“
A small giggle escapes you, “I came back in time before the Rite of Descension, Mora. Especially to return your Gnosis.“
For a certain period of time, your husband gave his Gnosis to you for safekeeping. Even though he was fully capable of taking care of it himself, for who else would be able to steal from the Warrior God and eldest of The Seven. Though it wouldn’t be so hard to believe the Fatui could try something, their Archon made a contract with the god of contracts. He handed you the chest piece shaped power object to look after in his stead as another gesture of his unwavering trust in you.
You knew already that he trusted you without hesitation, but it was thoughtful nonetheless. Like how going on dates, giving gifts, and doting on a lover were among a list of acts in a loving relationship. To the both of you, this was just one of them.
“Yes, but you should already know, beloved, that when you must leave my side, I miss you every one of those times.”
Now a tint of pink blooms over your cheeks. Honestly, this man never fails to turn you into a blushing new bride all over again. Just like all those centuries ago when your Zhongli began to court you.
“And what is this old dragon to do without his beautiful fenghuang to complete him as his other half?” he chuckles.
“Maybe miss out on something meaningful.” you playfully teased before replying back “I always miss you when we’re apart, too.” and nuzzled his neck. “There’s no better company in this world than yours.”
Your husband looks on with adoration, giving you a light squeeze. “I can’t agree more, my wife. You have always been my blessing.“
The rosy color on your face didn’t escape Zhongli, who chuckles, a sound melodic and soothing. He had a habit of saying that. It was a common remark to describe you all those years ago by the mortals. Being referred to as such without personal connection left you indifferent towards it mostly. Which then changed when Zhongli courted you, and your relationship developed more intimately.
“Should I help style your hair, darling?” he caresses your locks spreading across your pillow. The little few coloured highlights flowing down visibly.
“You know I enjoy it when you do.” you kiss his jaw.
Walking around Liyue Harbor with arms locked together, you and Zhongli strolled over the lively bustling city, browsing over the stands and products of merchants and customers.
Before, the two of you were having breakfast in your own adeptal abode, taking in the scenery of the simulated sky, the ginkgo trees, and the lush green grass. And considering it was just the two of you alone, away from prying eyes, Zhongli guided you to sit on his lap, taking the one seat with a table of some Liyue dishes.
He had a habit of holding you close in private. Which came with the territory of having a relationship during a dominating war between gods. In all the tragedies and conflicts that passed for such long lifespans for both of you, holding each other was grounding, comforting, and reassuring.
“I wonder if the people will continue to celebrate our anniversary now that we’re gone.” you mused, fiddling with your marriage rings on your finger as your arms are between your husband’s from holding it. Sparkling starry eyes admiring some of the city’s traditional decor displaying the dragon and the fenghuang. The nation’s symbol of harmony.
“Lapis Lux is one of Liyue’s biggest festivals that predates even Lantern Rite. The celebration of the longest lasting love between us and inspiration for the people.” replied Zhongli, resting his bigger hand on top of your smaller one, where your glittering rings were worn. “With such a large influence to known to the other nations of Teyvat as well, such a holiday could never be dismissed.”
“Hm, that’s true.” you lean your head against his arm warmly.
Zhongli gives a chaste kiss to your temple, his own gaze drifting to the dragon and fenghuang symbols. He could tire of seeing them. “How does flying together sound after dinner, my Qingxin? Once I’ve settled my errands for today. We haven’t done that for some time.”
You perk up at that, flying together was always an activity you two loved doing since the beginning of your relationship. And while flying out in the open wasn’t option anymore after stepping down from godhood, you still had room to privately fly in your own sub-space home.
“Yes.” you smile. “I’ve missed those recently. We’ve both been a little busy. Speaking of…” you trail off, curious. “How goes the funeral planning? I’m sure you’ve been having a fun time, darling.”
It was ironically humorous and perhaps morbid to have the deceased be the one to plan their own funeral ceremony after all.
Zhongli’s amber eyes gleam with a hint of amusement and seriousness. “It’s been going smoothly. The Traveler has been a kind aid.”
The brunette had informed you of his own meeting with the Traveler and his floating companion as you talked about your latest visit to Mondstadt. Soon, it would be time to meet the Traveler again at Third-Round Knockout after previously settling things at Bubu Pharmacy.
You both did separate for a time for Zhongli to plan the Rite of Parting as part of his own occupation and duty.
“Well, it couldn’t have been easy for him. The Archon he had planned to meet next ended up dead before him the second he arrived.” you mused.
“Yes, while I do feel it unfortunate for him, the time for our departure from our posts had no better timing than now.” he replied. “After all, how dare the Geo Archon perish and leave his wife a widow? It goes against the very vows of their union. The most sacred of all of Rex Lapis’ contracts is with Regina Lux.”
Zhongli gazes at you with humour evident on his face. A teasing smile on his lips. “The whole of Teyvat may smite my spirit for such grievance.”
You gave a small laugh, “Of course, how could he?”
The performance of making both of your deaths in front of a crowd believable was a… unique experience. It went without saying that when Zhongli decided to retire his Archon role, he couldn’t leave you behind, especially to deal with the aftermath of the people’s attention on you because of it.
The Rite of Descension came with Rex Lapis descending upon his people for his divine predictions, while Regina Lux accompanied him with divine counsel for Liyue’s governing structure and measuring of time, seasons. Both greatly respected by their people for their eye for strategy.
And as your husband said, you both made a vow to be at each other’s sides no matter the unexpected circumstances. As the ultimate contract between you, in a mix of desire and responsibility.
“Hey, look!” Paimon says as she and Aether stopped on one of their walks in Liyue Harbor to meet with Zhongli when they spotted you together. “It’s (Y/N)! We only ran into her once in Liyue. And she’s with… Zhongli? Is Paimon seeing what you’re seeing..?” she blinked in confusion and surprise.
Aether gave a similar expression before calmly thinking aloud, “To be so close to each other like that.. Does that mean the spouses they mentioned to us before was each other all along..?”
“Let’s go ask! Paimon wants to know!” she urged with curiosity.
Hearing a familiar voice call out to you both, you turn to be greeted by the Traveler and his floating travel guide.
“Oh, hello Traveler, Paimon.” you casually greet with an easy smile. “It’s good to see you again.”
You first met the traveling pair at the Adventurers’ Guild back in Mondstadt. Recognized as a famous adventurer across the seven nations, your job naturally consisted of going to different places. The three of you made friendly conversation and good terms.
On your last day in the city, you spoke to the pair in meeting again in Liyue. You did run into them as you said when they came for the Rite of Descension, but hadn’t seen them afterwards until now.
Paimon only made a gawking face as she darted eyes between you and Zhongli. Mind still processing.
“Hi, (Y/N). We were about to meet up with Zhongli at Third-Round Knockout.” the blond reciprocated casually, unlike his pixie guide. Aether eyed the wedding rings on both of your left hands intriguingly. It very much complimented each other. Even the designs of your outfits bore similarities side by side, yet individually different; like your color palettes.
“That’s right, it was about that time.” Zhongli responds, hand on his chin.
“Wait-wait-wait! Hold on a second!” Paimon exclaimed with a wave of her arms. “The two of you are married to each other?!”
Your husband was unfazed as he answered her. “Why, yes. We’ve been married for a very long time now.”
Paimon seemed to finally calm down after the surprising fact. “When you guys were talking about being married, we didn’t think it was between each other!” she scratches her head. “And to think that we already met you both without realizing… Talk about a coincidence..”
You and Zhongli look at each other before lightly chuckling.
“Yes, that’s true.” you agreed. “It wasn’t meant to be a secret or anything. But it is a funny correlation.”
You smiled at them, “I also appreciate you helping my husband for the Rite of Descension. It’s a big task to handle alone, especially now.”
“Oh, we don’t mind.” she shakes her head. “It works out for all of us.” she then mumbles to herself, “Guess we know who does the finance in this marriage...”
“Paimon.” Aether lightly scolds.
Paimon immediately tries to correct her words, apologizing for running her mouth like that.
You only chuckle a little at her, Zhongli wasn’t offended and merely brushes it off, “In any case, since we’ve run into each other, why don’t we head to Third-Round Knockout now?”
You then let go of your husband’s arm, much to both of your reluctance. “That’s my cue then. I should be taking my leave anyhow. I have something to discuss with the Branch Master at the Adventurer’s Guild.”
“Sorry, we didn’t mean to interrupt you.” apologized Aether, sheepish.
“It’s no problem.” you dismiss, unperturbed.
“I will see you in the evening, then, my dear.” Zhongli kisses your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.
“Mhm, see you.” you hum softly, squeezing his own hand before walking off, the long hem of the back of your Liyuen dress fluttering behind you.
Staring off after you for a moment, the ex-Archon turns his attention to the traveling pair; who tried to adjust to this sudden smitten side of him. “Let’s go then, shall we?”
Standing beside each other hand in hand again, you and Zhongli both watched down at the harbor as Osial, an old foe, rose from the waters, letting out a fierce roar echoing in the skies.
The Jade Chamber flew to the serpent god as the adepti and the mortals gathered.
together to stop him. Along with the Traveler’s aid.
“Now the real test begins…” you mutter, grasping Zhongli’s hand firmly.
“So it has…” he quietly replies. He then turns to you, “Although I’m confident in Liyue’s own strength, whatever happens from here on out, I’m happy to have experienced this mortal life with you.”
You smile at him lovingly, “For me, too. No matter what, I’m with you to the end.”
Zhongli brings you to his side, wrapping an arm around your back as you both observed the fight unfold.
When Osial was defeated and sealed away once again, proving Liyue’s independent perseverance. You and Zhongli were able to fully let go of your godly lives to mortal ones.
And when Zhongli went alone to Northland Bank to keep his end of the contract with the Tsaritsa for his Gnosis, Aether and Paimon had to adjust to the other surprising fact about your identity once realizing who Zhongli really was.
If Morax was said to truly be devoted to his wife, then there was no conceivable way he’d be with another. There wouldn’t be anyone else more committed to the contract of marriage than the god of contracts himself with the god of light, Alloces.
How, as the two gods fell from the sky to their end, their bodies twisted around each other in an interlocking embrace. Where the Lord of Geo held his beloved protectively even after their vessels were deprived of their divine souls.
You recalled when speaking with Cloud Retainer from a recent visit how Paimon had vocally mistaken you for a phoenix. With your adeptus form being a bigger bird from Cloud Retainer and Mountain Shaper’s, your bird form lightly glowed with the colour of gold and sunlight, end feathers shimmering like gold mist, some of your multicoloured hair streaks as feathers of red, blue, and green.
The female crane adeptus made a huff of disapproval at the mixup, wondering how many others outside Liyue would always make the misconception and ignorance of the spouse of the only married Archon, the only other god to rule Liyue alongside Rex Lapis being a phoenix. It humoured and intrigued you of this myth some people mistakenly believed.
While it was appreciable to see an old friend and attendant be of defence in your honour, there was amusement in seeing Cloud Retainer’s reaction to it.
There was also the small irony that you carried a fake Pyro Vision on you to blend in. You didn’t actually have the same compatibility to it like your husband, the master of his element, but your power and magic abilities could make them appear pyro.
Zhongli had suggested you could try Geo, but you thought it interesting to be of a different element from him.
“One would think after so many years has passed, the mortals would come to understand the keen difference between a phoenix and a fenghuang.” she says with disappointment. “Especially to the being who taught them the teachings and ways of the stars and light, who brought prosperity and counseling of Rex Lapis’s ascension as one of The Seven. Including the perfect example of marital union! Honestly, the ignorance..!”
“It’s all right, Cloud Retainer.” you assured. “They don’t mean harm or malice by it.”
“While that is true, your leniency is what truly comes out most, Regina Lux.” she responds.
“Well, it wasn’t something I had to worry about. And it’s not a common misunderstanding.” you take a sip of the teacup presented to you. “In any case, with the Qixing, Liyue may turn out just fine.”
Cloud Retainer shifts her gaze to the sky, still begrudging. “If it by your words, may your judgment be sound, Regina Lux.”
“You are not from this land.” A deep male voice spoke a few feet away from you.
Calmly turning your head, you look to see a man who was clearly not mortal. You immediately knew who he was, his reputation and appearance easily recognizable. A white hood over his head, gold rune patterns decorating his arms that traced as veins to gold coloured hands, dressed in interesting garments. In your observation, it glowed and symbolized power.
You meet his golden gaze with your starry ones. “No, I am not. Merely here to view the scenery in front of me.”
He tilts his head a little, gold eyes intense as he searches for anything to be wary of, the eyes of a beast. “Is passing through another deity’s territory common for you?”
“By harmless means, I bear no motive but to cross the lands soundly.”
The deity stares at you contemplatively, tone mildly rumbling and brutish. “Hm, you should exercise more caution next time, a god’s reaction is unpredictable with unfamiliar faces of another.”
“Fair enough.” You stand from your seat from the view of the sky and mountains. “Shall I not disturb you any longer, Lord of Geo? I am not ignorant of your strength.”
His eyes turned half-lidded as he took in the likeness of the night in your irises, “You are aware of me as I am of you, Lady of Light. A being untethered of followers, roaming over the lands. But never claiming, your presence doesn’t deter me.”
“Then I may continue watching the landscape from here?”
“I—”
“As I thought, you were here, beloved.” Zhongli’s voice calmly spoke from behind you.
Turning your head, you looked back to see your husband making his way towards with a sweet smile on his lips.
The hand that was playing with the rectangular diamond shaped Cor Lapis gem hung on the bottom front of your elegantly designed chocker now rested on your lap. The Qingxins around you lightly glowing white from its petals under the moon, blooming in full.
“Hehe, you know me so well.” you say in light amusement, looking fondly at him as he comes to sit beside you.
You both occasionally went to a cliff to gaze down at Liyue Harbor, like spectators of an artwork. Watching from afar to the pleasant view of the busy and prosperous city. Sightseeing from far away to look at how far Liyue had come to be what it is. How both of your guidances and co-rulership led to this nation of prosperity.
“Came to join me, did you?” you tilt your head playfully.
“Naturally so,” he wrapped an arm around you to rest on his side, moving the other to grasp the hand on your lap. “I was deprived of your touch.”
You smile, feeling serene and content as you snuggled into him more, head resting under his chin. “Better now?”
Zhongli hums, “Very much so, but don’t think I’ll be letting go now, dearest.”
A small laugh escapes you, “Oh, I know.”
Taking some moments of silence, the both of you watched Liyue. How the city lights glowed in the night sky, the peaceful atmosphere around you, it was everything you had hoped it would all be.
Taking a breath to sigh, you’re mildly surprised to feel the familiar trace of Zhongli’s hand brushing your cheek before you noticed him tucking a Qingxin flower into your hair, breezing pass one of your dangling noctilucous jade earrings.
Glaze Lilies were known to be a national flower of Liyue, for its appeasement to song and moon, regional from the land. You always had an affinity with Qungxins among the nation’s flora. While Glaze Lilies could be resided in fields where domestic ones were gardened by people, you found interest in Qingxins locating on cliffs and mountain tops. Like they were trying to reach the sky and view the land below.
Though you found numerous flowers across the seven nations to be just as wondrous. As someone who used to travel place to place without your own territory, your journeying spirit never left. After settling down from your marriage with Morax for the past thousands of years, becoming an adventurer as a mortal brought back this old side of you. But nothing beats the domesticity of marriage with your husband and the land you looked after together.
“You are radiant, baobei…” the ex-Archon gently spoke, lightly touching the intricate hairpin attached to your half-up bun. With the design of your fenghuang form on the back of the fabric of your slit skirt, with hints of his dragon-qilin adeptus form as well. It laid the hidden meaning of your identity and claim to your husband. Details intimate and hidden for both of you.
Credit to Menogias’ keen eye and sense of fashion. Who foound a hobby in coordinating your outfits together.
It only made this god of old before you pleased and content at the sight. Including the chocker necklace you always wore. With gold and silver accents and a rhombus shaped Cor Lapis gem dangling. Matching the rhombus pin on his tie and your ring. Hiding the faint traces of an inhuman bite and the Geo symbol imprinted on the back of your neck, along with another on your navel and an actual tattoo of his adeptus form. The dragon side of Zhongli always carrying a possessive and marking trait, but never against your own will. That also included having your fenghuang form tattooed on him underneath all his layers.
The tattoos themselves invisible to the naked eye unless revealed or with great elemental perception.
Gold amber eyes twinkling with warmth and love as he gazed at you, always able to melt and flutter his stone heart. “Throughout all these years together, I couldn’t have asked for anyone else to be by my side all these years.”
You smile adoringly at him as you press your body as close as physically possible against his, “I love you so much you know..”
Your husband strengthens his hold on you as his other hand sweetly rubs the exposed thigh from one of the slits of your dress and away from your thigh high boot.
“I always know, my sweet mate.” Zhongli leans in, brushing his lips against yours. “And I love you, much more than you are already aware.”
You smile very softly content over your husband’s shoulder. He then pulls you onto his lap sideways, making you wrap your arms around his neck as he pressed his forehead against yours. “You are the most precious treasure to me in all of Teyvat.” With both half-lidded eyes, he gazes upon your irises, that move and change like a reflection of the night.
“And I will never stop reminding you that I am yours for eternity, my wife, my love, my treasure. I dedicate my life, soul and heart to you, and only you.” he then pulls you onto his lap, making you wrap your arms around his neck as he pressed his forehead against yours. “Even when, one day, we reach the end of our time, we’ll be together.”
You lean against him as you both look upon the city and the landscapes you’ve watched over for centuries.
“To this mortal life of ours now.”
Zhongli smiles softly, “Yes, to this mortal life we have.”
Name References:
Alloces: Demon from the Ars Goetia/Lesser Key of Solomon, a Great Duke of Hell. Persuades immortality, teaches all mysteries and arts of the sky, astronomy, liberal sciences, and granting familiars.
If i had a nickel for every time a character that i cared so unbelievably deeply for died in the sea to a piercing wound, i would have two nickels. which isnt a lot but its weird that it happened twice right?
જ⁀➴𖦹A 2010 Tangled inspired fic In wich Neteyam is healed by a stranger with glowing hair, he realizes she is the long lost child whispered about in Metkayina legends. His discovery pulls them both into a truth hidden for years. ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𖦹
WC: 16k
જ⁀➴𖦹Warnings: slow burn, aged over 18, Neteyam x y/n, was watching Tangled and felt inspired. Reader is Metkayina ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𖦹
𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼༄.°
｡𖦹°‧There was once a child born beneath the soft glow of Eywa’s light, a child whose first breath stirred the sea itself. The Metkayina clan rejoiced on that night, for Tonowari and Ronal had been blessed with a daughter whose spirit shimmered like the surface of the ocean at dawn. Your hair, pale as moonlit sand, carried a strange radiance. When you cried, the glow brightened. When you laughed, it warmed the hearts of all who saw you.
Ronal knew at once that Eywa had touched you.
Tonowari held you close, and the clan whispered that you were a gift meant to guide their people.
But gifts draw eyes, and not all eyes are kind. Far beyond the reefs, hidden in the tangled roots of the deep forest, lived a woman named Seyla. She was Na’vi, but her heart had long drifted away from the People. She feared age, feared loss, feared the slow dimming of her own spirit. She had once discovered a strange pool of bioluminescent water that healed her wounds and eased her pain, but the pool had dried, leaving her desperate for another source of power.
When she heard whispers of a glowing child, she followed the currents of rumor like a hunter follows tracks. She watched from the shadows as the Metkayina celebrated you. She saw the light in your hair and felt a hunger rise inside her.
On a quiet night, when the sea was calm and the clan slept, Seyla crept into the marui pod where you lay. She lifted you gently, almost reverently, and whispered a promise to herself that she would keep this light forever. By the time the first rays of morning touched the water, you were gone.
Tonowari’s roar shook the village. Ronal’s grief echoed across the reef. The Metkayina searched every wave, every cove, every shadowed place. But you had vanished.
And so began a tradition of sorrow and hope.
Every year, on the night of your birth, the clan released glowing lanterns into the sky. They drifted like spirits of light, rising above the ocean, calling to the daughter who had been taken from them. They did not know you were alive. They did not know you watched those lanterns every year from a hidden tower woven of roots and stone, deep within the forest. They did not know you longed for them.
Seyla raised you far from the sea, in a tall spiraling structure grown from ancient trees. Vines wrapped around its sides like protective arms, and the canopy above filtered the sunlight into soft green hues. You grew surrounded by paintings you made on the walls, carvings you shaped with your hands, and the gentle hum of the forest.
Seyla never called you by your true name.
She simply called you child.
⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖
She had been in a foul mood since dawn. Her steps were stiff. Her breath sharp. Her hand pressed often to her side where a deep bruise darkened her skin. She tried to hide it from you, but even as a child, you noticed everything.
“Mother,” you whispered, “you hurt.” Seyla stiffened. “It is nothing,” she said quickly. “Just brush.”
You nodded, small and obedient, lifting the carved comb with both hands. You brushed gently, humming a tune you did not remember learning. The rhythm felt natural, like something inside you knew it. Seyla winced again. Her breath caught. Her fingers dug into the floor. You frowned, your little brows knitting together. You brushed again, slower this time. And then it happened. A soft glow shimmered from your fingertips, spreading through the comb, through the strands of Seyla’s hair, and then across her skin. The bruise beneath her ribs faded, the pain melting away like mist in sunlight.
⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖
Now, Older, Your days were filled with weaving, singing, painting, and dreaming. You felt the forest breathe with you. You felt Eywa’s pulse in every leaf. But you also felt a longing you could not name, a pull toward the distant horizon where the trees thinned and the world opened. Every year, on the same night, the sky filled with drifting lights.
Lanterns.
Hundreds of them. You pressed your hands to the tower window and watched them rise. They shimmered like stars that had chosen to fall upward instead of down. Something inside you stirred, something ancient and familiar. You asked Seyla what they were. She always answered with a soft smile that never reached her eyes.
“Just lights, child. Nothing more.”
But you felt the truth whispering beneath your skin. Those lights were meant for you. Your hair held a strange power. When you sang, it glowed with warm golden light. When you touched a wound, the skin knit together. When you placed your hand on a dying flower, it bloomed again.
Seyla guarded this secret fiercely. She brushed your hair with careful hands, always reminding you that the world outside was dangerous, that others would seek to use your gift, that you must never leave the tower.
You believed her. But you also dreamed. You dreamed of the sea you had never seen. You dreamed of the lanterns that rose like prayers.
You dreamed of a boy you had never met, a boy whose eyes held the color of deep forest shadows and whose spirit felt like a warm breeze. You did not know his name. You did not know he was real. You did not know he was coming. In the reef village of the Metkayina, a new family arrived.
The Sullys.
Jake Sully, once of the forest clans, came seeking refuge with his mate Neytiri and their children. Among them was Neteyam, the eldest son, steady as stone and bright as the sun. He carried the weight of responsibility on his shoulders, yet his heart longed for freedom.
He explored the reefs with silent wonder. He trained with the Metkayina youth. He tried to follow his father’s rules, but the forest called to him in a way he could not explain.
He often slipped away, moving through the trees with quiet steps, drawn by a feeling he could not name. Jake scolded him for wandering. Neteyam bowed his head, promised to do better, and then wandered again. For Eywa was guiding him. Guiding him toward a tower hidden in the forest. Guiding him toward a girl with moonlit hair. Guiding him toward you.
The forest was quiet that morning, wrapped in a soft blue haze as the sun rose through the canopy. You moved through your tower home with the gentle rhythm of routine, weaving strands of glowing hair into long braids, humming a tune that made the air shimmer with golden light. The forest answered your song with a soft pulse, as if Eywa herself listened.
Seyla had left before dawn, as she often did. She claimed she needed to gather herbs, speak with distant traders, and keep the world outside from discovering you. You watched her disappear into the trees, her figure swallowed by shadows, and you felt the familiar ache of longing settle in your chest. The world beyond the tower called to you. It always had.
You pressed your palm to the window ledge and looked out at the endless green. Somewhere far beyond the forest, the sea waited. Somewhere beyond the sea, lanterns rose every year for a girl who never came home.
You wondered what it would feel like to touch the ocean. You wondered what it would feel like to belong. You did not know that someone was already climbing toward you.
Neteyam moved through the forest with the quiet grace of a hunter, though he was not hunting anything except a feeling he could not name. The trees whispered around him, their leaves brushing his shoulders as if urging him forward. He had slipped away from the village again, ignoring the echo of his father’s stern voice in his mind. He needed space. He needed silence.
He needed to breathe without the weight of expectation pressing on him. He followed a path he had never taken before, guided by instinct more than reason. The forest grew denser, the air thicker with the scent of moss and glowing spores. Then, through the trees, he saw it.
A tower. Tall, spiraling, grown from ancient roots and stone. Vines wrapped around it like the arms of a guardian. Light shimmered faintly from the highest window, a soft golden glow that made his heart quicken. He had never seen anything like it.
Curiosity tugged at him.
He stepped closer. You were painting the inside wall when you heard the faint rustle of leaves below. You paused, brush held mid stroke. The forest was alive with sound, but this was different. This was deliberate. This was someone.
You moved to the window and peered down. A boy stood at the base of the tower. Tall, strong, with braids that brushed his shoulders and eyes that held the deep calm of the forest. His skin glowed faintly with bioluminescent freckles. He looked up, and for a moment, your breath caught.
You had seen him before.
Not in life, but in dreams.
He placed a hand on the tower’s roots, testing their strength. Then, with a quiet determination, he began to climb.
Your heart leapt into your throat.
You stepped back from the window, unsure whether to hide or watch. Curiosity won. You pressed yourself against the wall, listening to the soft scrape of his hands and feet as he climbed higher. The bioluminescence of your freckles brightened with your rising pulse.
Neteyam reached the window ledge and pulled himself up with a quiet exhale. He expected an empty room, perhaps an abandoned lookout. Instead, he found you.
You stood in the center of the tower, hair glowing like captured sunlight, eyes wide with wonder and fear. The air between you shimmered with something neither of you understood. Neteyam froze, breath caught in his chest. He had never seen anyone like you. Your glow and Metkayina blue skin shining.
He had never felt anything like this. You only stared at him, as if trying to decide whether he was real. The silence stretched, soft and fragile. He spoke first, his voice low and careful.
“Forgive me. I did not know anyone lived here.”
You swallowed, unsure whether to trust him, unsure whether to speak at all. Seyla had warned you of the outside world, warned you of strangers, warned you of danger. But nothing about this boy felt dangerous. He felt familiar. He felt like a memory you had forgotten. Your fingers tightened around the staff. He lifted his hands slowly, showing he meant no harm.
The forest outside hummed with quiet approval, as if Eywa herself watched this moment with gentle anticipation. Neteyam took a small step inside the tower. You took a small step back. He noticed the paintings on the walls, the carvings, the woven mats, the glowing strands of your hair that pooled around your feet like liquid light. He noticed the way you watched him with equal parts fear and longing. He felt something shift inside him, something warm and certain. He had been wandering for weeks, searching for something he could not name. Now he knew what it was.
You.
He did not understand why. He did not understand how. But he knew this meeting was not an accident. You felt it too. A pull, gentle and undeniable. The lanterns rose every year for a girl who never returned. The forest whispered of a destiny waiting to unfold. And now, a boy had climbed your tower. The world outside had finally come to find you.
Tall. Strong. Eyes deep as forest shadows. Skin marked with soft bioluminescent freckles. Your breath caught. Your pulse quickened. Your hair brightened with instinctive fear. You stepped back from the window, panic rising like a tide.
He opened his mouth to speak. You acted first. You grabbed the nearest object, a carved wooden bowl, and swung it with all the strength you had. It struck his temple with a hollow thud.
Neteyam collapsed instantly. You gasped, dropping the bowl. Your hands flew to your mouth. You had never struck anyone before. You had never even met anyone before. You rushed to him, kneeling beside his still form. He breathed softly, peacefully, as if merely asleep. You exhaled in shaky relief. Then you remembered Seyla’s warnings. Strangers. Danger. The world outside. You scrambled for the long coils of your glowing hair and used them to bind his wrists and ankles. The knots were clumsy but firm. You dragged him to a support beam and tied him upright, your breath trembling with effort. When you stepped back, he hung there, unconscious and harmless. Or so you hoped.
Neteyam stirred with a soft groan. His eyes fluttered open. He blinked at the strands wrapped around him. He blinked at the carvings on the walls.
He blinked at you. Then he smiled. A slow, amused, bewildered smile. You stiffened, clutching your staff.He tilted his head slightly. “You are very strong.”
You tightened your grip.“You climbed into my home.”
He nodded, still smiling.
“That is true.”
You narrowed your eyes.“Why.”
He looked around again, taking in the tower, the paintings, the glow of your hair.“I was exploring.”
You frowned. “That is not a reason.”
He laughed softly, not mocking, simply charmed by the situation. You bristled. You stepped closer, bowl raised. He lifted his bound hands slightly, showing he meant no harm. You began your interrogation. You paced in front of him, trying to appear fierce.
Your hair glowed brighter with each step. “Who are you.”
“Neteyam.”
“Why are you here.”
“I was walking.”
“Why this tower.”
“I did not know it was a tower.”
You stopped pacing. “That makes no sense.”
He smiled again. “It is the truth.”
You huffed, frustrated. He seemed entirely too calm for someone who was tied with fibres in a strange tower. You leaned in closer, studying him. He did not flinch. He only watched you with quiet curiosity, as if you were the one who had fallen from the sky. Your heart fluttered. You stepped back quickly.
You pointed your bowl at him.
“I will let you go. But you must take me to see the lights.”
He blinked. “The lights.”
You nodded.
“The ones that rise into the sky every year.”
Recognition flickered in his eyes.
He had heard of the lost girl, of the lanterns, Tsireya and Aonung have mourned the story to him and his siblings before. Never have even met the slightly older girl. He knew their meaning. He
“I can take you.”
You hesitated. Seyla’s warnings echoed in your mind. But the lanterns called to you stronger than fear. You stepped forward and loosened the glowing knots. Your ties unwound from his wrists and ankles. He stood slowly, rubbing his arms. He looked at you with a softness that made your breath catch.
“I will not harm you,” he said.
You nodded, though your heart still raced. He moved toward the window. You followed. The world outside waited. And you were ready.
The forest opened slowly, like a curtain drawn back by unseen hands. You stepped through the trees with hesitant wonder, your glowing hair trailing behind you in a shimmering path. Every leaf, every flower, every drifting spore felt like a new world waiting to be touched. Neteyam walked ahead, glancing back often to make sure you followed. His steps were steady, confident, but softened by the awareness that each moment was your first. He did not rush you. He did not speak unless necessary. He simply guided you with the quiet patience of someone who understood the weight of discovery. The scent of saltwater grew stronger. The trees thinned. The light brightened. Then you saw it. The sea.
A vast expanse of shimmering blue stretched before you, glowing with the soft pulse of Pandora’s living waters. The horizon curved gently, meeting the sky in a line of silver light. Your breath caught. Your heart lifted.
You looked behind you to see neteyam and notice him clutching his hand. A wrong grasp on the climb down left an aching gash in his palm. “It is nothing,” he said, though his voice wavered. You stepped closer, your eyes wide with worry.
“You are hurt.” Neteyam shook his head.
“I will be fine.” But you did not listen. You knelt beside him, your small hands trembling as you reached for his palm.
“Let me help,” you whispered. He hesitated, confused, but he did not pull away. You brushed your fingers gently along the edge of the wound. A soft hum rose in your chest , the same melody you had hummed as a child without knowing why. Your hair fell over your shoulder, brushing his skin. And then the light began. A warm, golden glow shimmered from your fingertips, spreading across his palm. Neteyam inhaled sharply, eyes widening as the pain melted away. The cut closed slowly, the skin knitting together as if time itself reversed. You did not notice his shock. You only focused on healing him, humming softly, your hair glowing brighter with each breath. When the light faded, the wound was gone. Neteyam stared at his palm, then at you, then at the soft glowing strands of your hair. His voice was barely a whisper.
That moment Neteyam knew there was something special about you. Something he couldn't quite trace yet.
You stepped forward until the sand brushed your toes. Warm. Soft. Alive. You had dreamed of this moment. You had painted it on your tower walls. But the real sea was more than you ever imagined. Neteyam watched your expression with quiet awe. He had seen the ocean every day since arriving at the reef, but seeing it reflected in your eyes made it feel new again. The Metkayina village rose from the water like a living sculpture. Marui pods swayed gently on woven platforms. Children splashed in the shallows. Riders soared overhead on ilu and skimwings, their bodies gliding through the air with effortless grace.
You froze. There were so many people. So many eyes. So many voices. Your heart raced. Your freckles brightened with nervous light. Neteyam stepped closer, his presence steady and grounding. He did not touch you, but he stood near enough that you felt shielded. “Come,” he said softly.
“I will not let harm come to you.”
You nodded, though your breath trembled. You followed him across the sand and onto the woven walkways. The village buzzed with life. Na’vi turned to look at you, their eyes widening at the sight of your glowing hair. Whispers rippled through the crowd like a rising tide. You lowered your gaze, overwhelmed. Neteyam moved closer, guiding you gently through the curious stares.
He led you toward a large communal hut built over the water. Its entrance was draped with woven curtains that swayed in the breeze. Inside, voices rose in laughter and song. The air smelled of roasted fish and sweet fruit.
It was the Metkayina version of a tavern. A place of noise. A place of life. You hesitated at the doorway. Neteyam looked back at you, his eyes warm.
“You will be safe.” You stepped inside. The room fell silent.
Dozens of Metkayina stared at you, their expressions shifting from surprise to curiosity to wonder. You felt your pulse quicken. Your fingers curled nervously around your braid. Then a girl stepped forward.
She was graceful, with bright eyes and a gentle smile. Her movements flowed like water. She approached you slowly, hands open in welcome.
“I am Tsireya,” she said softly. You nodded, unsure how to respond. She studied your glowing freckles in the daylight with awe, but not fear.
“You shine like the sea at night.” Her voice was warm, kind.
You felt your shoulders relax. Then another figure approached. A boy. Broad shouldered. Confident. Eyes sharp with curiosity.
“I am Ao’nung,” he said. His tone held a hint of mischief, but his gaze softened when he saw your nervousness. You did not know these two were your siblings. You did not know they had spent their whole lives mourning a sister they believed lost. You did not know they felt something familiar in you, something they could not name. Tsireya reached out and gently touched a strand of your slightly glowing hair.
“It is beautiful.” You felt warmth bloom in your chest. Neteyam watched the exchange with a small smile. He had hoped they would welcome you. He had not expected them to be drawn to you so quickly The hut slowly filled with sound again. Laughter. Music. Voices rising like waves. Tsireya guided you to a seat. Ao’nung brought you fruit. Others gathered around, asking gentle questions, admiring your glow, offering smiles. For the first time in your life, you felt surrounded by people who did not fear you. People who did not hide you. People who looked at you with wonder, not suspicion. You felt something inside you loosen. Something long held tight. You felt the first spark of belonging. Neteyam watched you from across the room, leaning against a support beam. His eyes softened as he saw you laugh quietly at something Tsireya said. He had never seen you smile like that. He felt warmth rise in his chest. A warmth he did not yet understand.
Outside the hut, hidden in the shadows of the village, a figure watched. Seyla. Her eyes narrowed as she saw you surrounded by Metkayina. Her breath sharpened as she saw your hair glowing brighter than ever. Her hands curled into fists.The world had taken her light. And she would take it back.
The village glowed with the soft colors of evening. The water shimmered beneath the woven walkways, and the air carried the gentle hum of distant song. You walked beside Neteyam, your glowing hair trailing behind you in warm golden strands. The lantern night had not yet come, and everything felt peaceful, almost dreamlike.
Children ran past, laughing as they splashed in the shallows. Their hands were painted with swirling blue spirals, the same symbol you had seen carved into the marui pods and woven into the nets. You paused, watching them with quiet curiosity.
Neteyam noticed. He stepped closer, his voice soft. “You like the spirals.” You nodded. “They feel familiar.” He smiled gently, as if he understood something you did not yet see. He guided you toward a small platform where a bowl of blue dye rested beside a woven mat. The dye shimmered with bioluminescent flecks, glowing softly in the fading light. Neteyam sat and motioned for you to join him. You lowered yourself beside him, your hair pooling around you like warm sunlight. He dipped his fingers into the dye. The blue light clung to his skin. “Give me your hand,” he said.
Your breath caught, but you placed your hand in his. His touch was warm, steady, careful. He held your palm gently, as if it were something precious. He began to paint. Slow, deliberate strokes. A curve. A line. A spiral. The symbol formed beneath his touch, glowing softly against your skin. You watched his face as he worked. His eyes were focused, his expression calm, but there was a softness there, a warmth that made your heart flutter. When he finished, he lifted your hand so you could see. A perfect Metkayina spiral. Blue and glowing. Alive with meaning. You traced it with your thumb, feeling a strange ache in your chest.
“It feels like I have seen this before, I have painted it many times,” you whispered. Neteyam looked at you with quiet understanding.
“Maybe you have,” he said. You met his eyes. The world felt still. The ocean breathed softly around you. Your glowing hair brightened with a gentle pulse. Neteyam dipped his fingers into the dye again. This time, he reached for your other hand.
“May I paint another,” he asked. You nodded. He painted slowly, carefully, as if each stroke carried a secret. When he finished, he held both your hands in his, spirals glowing softly between you.
“They suit you,” he said. You felt warmth bloom inside your chest. You felt seen. You felt known. You felt something you could not yet name. The spirals glowed brighter, reflecting in Neteyam’s eyes. And for a moment, the world felt perfect.
The sun dipped low over the horizon, painting the sky in soft shades of rose and gold. The Metkayina village glowed with warm light as the day faded into evening. You stood at the edge of the walkway, your toes brushing the cool water, your glowing hair trailing behind you like a river of captured sunlight.
You had never seen the ocean at night. You had never seen the sky open so wide. You had never felt the world breathe around you with such quiet magic. Neteyam approached with a small wooden canoe, carved with swirling patterns that shimmered in the fading light. He guided it gently toward you, the water parting around him in soft ripples.
He stopped a few steps away, watching you with steady eyes.
“You wished to see the lights,” he said softly.
Your breath caught. The lanterns. The ones that rose every year. The ones that called to you. The ones you had watched from your tower window, wondering why they filled your heart with longing. You nodded.
Neteyam held the canoe steady as you stepped inside. Your hair pooled around you, glowing softly against the wooden floor. He pushed off from the walkway and climbed in after you, settling opposite you with quiet grace. The canoe drifted into the open water.
The ocean stretched around you like a vast mirror, reflecting the sky above. The waves glowed with bioluminescent light, swirling beneath the canoe in soft blue patterns. The air was warm, carrying the scent of salt and distant flowers. You looked around with wide eyes, your heart swelling with wonder. You had never imagined the world could be so beautiful.
Neteyam watched your expression, a faint smile touching his lips. He had seen the sea many times, but seeing it through your eyes made it feel new again.
He dipped the paddle into the glowing water, guiding the canoe farther from the village. The lights of the marui pods faded behind you, replaced by the soft shimmer of the open ocean. You leaned forward slightly. “Where are we going.”
He answered with quiet certainty. “To the place where the lanterns rise.” Your heart fluttered. The sky darkened. The stars emerged. The sea grew still. Then, from the distant shore, a single lantern rose. It drifted upward, glowing with warm golden light.
You inhaled sharply, your eyes widening. Another lantern rose. Then another. Then dozens. They floated into the sky like spirits of light, rising higher and higher, filling the night with soft radiance. Your breath trembled. Your hands pressed to your chest. Your glowing hair brightened with emotion.
You whispered, barely audible, “They are real.”
Neteyam watched you, his heart tightening at the awe in your voice. “They are for someone very important,” he said. You did not know he meant you. You only knew that the lanterns filled you with a strange, aching warmth. You reached out toward the sky, your fingers trembling. The lanterns drifted above you like a constellation of hope.
Neteyam lifted a lantern from the bottom of the canoe.
It glowed softly, its light reflecting in his eyes.
He held it out to you.
“For you,” he said. Your breath caught. You touched the lantern with gentle fingers, feeling its warmth. It felt familiar, like a memory you could not reach. Neteyam guided your hands to the edge of the canoe. Together, you lifted the lantern into the air. It rose slowly, drifting upward, joining the others in the sky. You watched it go, your heart swelling with a feeling you could not name. When you looked back at Neteyam, he was watching you. The lantern light reflected in his eyes. The ocean shimmered around you. Your glowing hair cast soft golden light across his face. For a moment, the world felt still. You felt something warm and gentle bloom inside your chest. A feeling that frightened you and comforted you all at once. Neteyam felt it too. He looked away for a moment, as if steadying himself.
The lanterns drifted higher, filling the sky with golden light. The ocean glowed beneath you. The canoe rocked gently with the rhythm of the waves. You felt Eywa in the air. In the water. In the lanterns.
In the boy sitting across from you.
You felt a connection forming, delicate and bright. Neteyam reached out slowly, his hand hovering near yours. He did not touch you. He only offered the space between your hands, a silent question. You placed your hand in his. The touch was soft. Warm. Steady. Your glowing hair brightened, casting golden light across the canoe.
Neteyam’s breath caught. He had never seen anything so beautiful. You looked at him, your heart trembling. He looked at you, his eyes soft and full of something he did not yet understand. The lanterns rose around you like a blessing. And in that moment, the world felt perfect.
He had seen the ocean glow before. But never like this. Never because of someone.
A lantern drifted low above the water, close enough that you could see the woven pattern of its frame. You reached toward it, your fingers trembling with awe. The lantern rose just beyond your touch, drifting upward to join the others. You lowered your hand slowly.
“Why do they rise,” you asked softly. Neteyam hesitated. He knew the truth.
He knew the lanterns were for the lost daughter of Tonowari and Ronal. He knew the Metkayina had mourned her for years. He knew the lanterns were prayers sent into the sky. He looked at you, at your glowing hair, at the way the lantern light reflected in your eyes. He felt the truth stirring inside him, rising like a tide. “They rise for someone the clan misses,” he said gently.
You looked down at your hands. The glow of your hair brightened with emotion.
“Someone important,” you whispered. Neteyam nodded. You did not know why the words made your chest ache. You did not know why the lanterns felt like memories. You did not know why the ocean seemed to whisper your name. But you felt something shifting inside you. Something old. Something true.
The canoe drifted farther from the village, surrounded by lanterns that floated like golden moons. The night air was warm, carrying the scent of salt and distant flowers. The world felt suspended, held in a moment that belonged only to you and Neteyam.
He watched you with a softness he did not try to hide.
You felt his gaze like a warm breeze across your skin. You turned toward him slowly. The lantern light reflected in his eyes. Your glowing hair cast gentle gold across his face. The ocean shimmered beneath you. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was not empty. It was full. Full of questions. Full of wonder. Full of something delicate and new.
Neteyam reached out, his hand hovering near yours. He did not touch you. He only offered the space between your hands, a silent invitation. You placed your hand in his. The touch was soft. Warm. Steady. Your hair brightened, glowing like a small sun. Neteyam inhaled softly, as if the sight stole his breath. You felt your heart tremble. You felt the world shift. You felt something bloom inside you, gentle and bright. A soft breeze rippled across the ocean. The lanterns swayed. The water shimmered.
You leaned over the side of the canoe, watching the glowing patterns beneath the surface. The ocean reflected your face, framed by your glowing hair.
Then the reflection changed. For a moment, you saw something else. A marui pod. A woman with eyes like the sea. A man with broad shoulders and a gentle smile. Two children laughing beside them. A family. Your breath caught. Your heart lurched. The vision faded as quickly as it had appeared, swallowed by the shifting water. You pulled back sharply, your hand flying to your chest. Neteyam leaned forward, concern in his eyes.
“What is wrong.” You shook your head, unable to speak. The image lingered in your mind, warm and painful. You had never seen those faces. But they felt familiar. They felt like home.
A single tear slipped down your cheek. It glowed softly, catching the lantern light.
Neteyam reached out slowly, brushing the tear away with gentle fingers.
His touch was warm. Steady. Comforting. “You are safe,” he said softly. You looked at him, your heart trembling. You did not know why the lanterns made you feel this way. You did not know why the ocean showed you visions. You did not know why Neteyam’s presence felt like a promise. But you knew one thing. You were no longer alone. The night after the lanterns felt like a dream that clung to your skin. The glow of the sky still shimmered in your memory, warm and soft, like the gentle brush of Neteyam’s hand against yours. The canoe had carried you both back to the shore in silence, but it was a silence filled with something bright and trembling. You walked beside him along the moonlit sand, your glowing hair trailing behind you like a ribbon of golden light. Neteyam glanced at you now and then, as if making sure you were still there, as if unsure whether the night had been real. You felt the same. But the warmth of the lanterns could not hold back the cold waiting in the trees. A soft rustle broke the quiet. A shift of shadow. A presence you knew too well. You turned. Seyla stepped from the forest, her figure framed by the pale glow of the moon. Her expression was calm, too calm, the kind of calm that hides a storm beneath it.
“Child,” she said, her voice smooth as polished stone. The word struck you like a blow. You had heard it your whole life. But now it felt wrong. Small. Untrue. Neteyam moved slightly closer to you, not touching you, but placing himself near enough that you felt shielded. Seyla’s eyes flicked to him, sharp and assessing, before returning to you.
“I can handle this” you whisper to him. Neteyam slowly retreats, eyes laced with concern as he pulls back and wanders away, not too far.
“You wandered far,” she said. “It is time to come home.” Home. The tower. The walls. The warnings. The fear. Your breath trembled. Seyla stepped closer, her voice softening in a way that made your skin crawl.
“You do not understand the danger of the world. You do not understand what you are. You must come with me.” You shook your head slowly.
“I wish to stay.” A crack appeared in Seyla’s calm. Barely visible, but there.
“You think this boy cares for you,” she said, her tone turning cold. “You think he sees you as more than a curiosity. But he will leave you. They all will.” Your heart tightened. The words slid into your mind like thorns. Seyla stepped closer still.
“You are safe only with me. You are protected only with me. The world will take from you. The world will use you. The world will break you.” Neteyam’s voice was steady.
“Come, child. Before you are hurt.” You stepped back. Seyla’s eyes hardened.
“You think this life is real,” she said. “You think these people care for you. But you are wrong. You are a stranger here. You do not belong.” The words struck deep. Because part of you feared they were true. Part of you feared you were nothing more than a wandering light in a world that did not know your name. But another part of you remembered the lanterns. The visions in the water. The warmth of Neteyam’s hand in yours. You lifted your chin. Seyla saw the change in your eyes. Her expression darkened. “You will regret this,” she said quietly.
She stepped back into the trees, her figure swallowed by shadow. But her voice lingered in the air like a cold wind.
“You will see the truth soon enough, Mother knows best.” Then she was gone. The forest fell silent. Neteyam turned to you, concern softening his features. But you could not meet his eyes. Seyla’s words echoed in your mind. Sharp. Heavy. Poisonous.
You wrapped your arms around yourself, your glowing hair dimming with uncertainty. You wished you could silence the doubt. But Seyla’s shadow clung to you, whispering that the dream would break. And for the first time since leaving the tower, you felt afraid.
The morning light shimmered across the ocean, soft and pale, as if the world still held the glow of the lanterns from the night before. You walked along the sand with a quiet hope blooming in your chest. Every step felt light. Every breath felt warm. The memory of Neteyam’s hand in yours lingered like a gentle flame.
You reached the place where the canoe had been left. The place where you and Neteyam had drifted beneath the lantern sky. The place where your heart had opened for the first time. You saw a figure standing beside the canoe. Your breath caught. Your heart lifted.
Neteyam.
You stepped forward, glowing hair brushing the sand, your pulse quickening with a soft, trembling joy. You imagined he would turn, smile, speak your name with that warm steadiness that made the world feel safe.
But when the figure turned, your steps faltered.
It was not Neteyam.
It was a Metkayina warrior you had never seen before. His face was unfamiliar, his eyes cold, his stance stiff. He looked at you only long enough to acknowledge your presence, then stepped into the canoe. Your heart stilled. You waited for Neteyam to appear behind him. You waited for his voice. You waited for anything that made sense. But the warrior pushed the canoe away from the shore. You took a step forward, confusion tightening your chest. The warrior did not look back. He paddled into the open water with calm, practiced strokes, guiding the canoe farther and farther away.
The same canoe you and Neteyam had shared. The same canoe that held the memory of lantern light and gentle hands. Your breath trembled. Why would Neteyam let someone take it? Why would he leave without a word? Why would he walk away from you after the night you shared?
The warrior glanced over his shoulder once, and in that brief look, you saw something sharp. Something secret. Something wrong. But your heart was already breaking. The canoe drifted farther into the shimmering water until it became a small shape against the horizon. The place beside you felt suddenly empty. The warmth of the lantern night faded like a dream slipping through your fingers. You wrapped your arms around yourself, your glowing hair dimming with each breath.
Seyla stepped from the trees behind you, her voice soft and smooth. “I warned you, you knew what he wanted… but it took you too long to give it to him. I suppose he's gone to find another girl to give him his needs.” You did not turn. You did not speak. You only stared at the empty water.
“He has left you,” Seyla said gently. “He has returned to his own people. You are nothing to him.” Your chest tightened. Your throat burned. Your heart felt heavy and hollow. Seyla placed a hand on your shoulder. “Come home, child.” This time, you did not resist. You followed her back into the forest, your steps slow and unsteady, your glowing hair trailing behind you like a fading light.
The dream had cracked. The world had dimmed. And you felt alone again.
The real Neteyam never reached the shore.
He had been ambushed in the forest by two warriors loyal to Seyla. They dragged him through the trees, bound his wrists, and carried him back to the Metkayina village. He fought, but the ambush had been swift and unexpected. Jake Sully stood waiting on the walkway, his expression dark with anger and worry.
“You missed the lantern night,” Jake said, his voice heavy. “You left without a word. You disrespected the clan. You disrespected your family.” Neteyam tried to speak, but Jake raised a hand.
“You are grounded. You will not leave the village again.” Neteyam’s heart pounded with panic.
Y/N.
Where were you? Were you safe? Did you think he had abandoned you? He tried to run, but his dad held him back. He tried to explain, but Jake’s disappointment cut through every word.
Neteyam stood on the walkway, breath shaking, eyes burning with fear. He had to find you. He had to reach you. He had to tell you the truth. But he was trapped. And somewhere deep in the forest, you walked beside Seyla, believing he had left you behind.
The tower felt smaller than ever. The walls pressed in around you, familiar yet suffocating, as if they remembered the girl you used to be and refused to let her go. You sat on the floor with your knees pulled close, your glowing hair dimmed to a faint shimmer. Seyla hummed softly as she moved about the room, her voice calm, her steps steady, as if nothing in the world had changed.
But everything had changed.
Your heart felt heavy, bruised by the sight of the canoe drifting away. The memory of lantern light flickered weakly inside you, struggling against the cold weight of doubt. You tried to hold on to the warmth of Neteyam’s hand, the softness in his eyes, the way the ocean had glowed beneath you both. But Seyla’s words echoed louder.
He has left you.
He has returned to his own life.
You were only a moment to him.
You pressed your forehead to your knees, trying to quiet the ache inside your chest.
Seyla approached with a woven cloth and draped it gently over your shoulders.
“You will feel better soon,” she said. “Dreams fade. The world is full of illusions. You must trust only what is real.” You nodded weakly, though the words felt wrong. Something inside you resisted them, faint but steady, like a small flame refusing to die.
Seyla returned to her work, humming again, her back turned. You lifted your head slowly. Your eyes drifted across the tower walls, tracing the paintings you had made over the years. Spirals of blue. Waves of green. Patterns of light. You had painted them without knowing why, guided only by instinct, by memory, by something deep inside your bones. Your gaze caught on a shape near the window. A spiral. A perfect Metkayina spiral. You frowned. You had painted it long ago, without understanding its meaning. But now, something about it tugged at your mind. You rose to your feet and stepped closer. Your fingers brushed the painted lines. The spiral glowed faintly beneath your touch. A memory stirred. A vision from the ocean. A woman with eyes like the sea. A man with broad shoulders. Children laughing beside them. A family. Your breath caught. Your heart began to race. You moved to another painting. Another spiral. Another symbol. Another memory flickered behind your eyes. You touched your glowing hair. The light brightened, responding to your rising heartbeat. You turned slowly, your gaze sweeping across the tower. Everywhere you looked, the same symbol appeared. Hidden in vines. Woven into patterns. Painted in corners. You had drawn them all your life. You had felt them all your life.
You had carried them all your life. They were not Seyla’s symbols. They were not forest symbols. They were Metkayina. Your pulse quickened. Your breath trembled. You stepped back, your glowing hair brightening with each heartbeat. The truth pressed against your mind, rising like a wave. You were not Seyla’s child. You were not born in this tower. You were not meant to live hidden in the forest. You were Metkayina. Your knees weakened. Your hand flew to your mouth. Your heart pounded with a mix of fear and wonder. Seyla turned sharply, sensing the shift in the air. “What are you doing,” she asked, her voice no longer soft. You stared at her, your eyes wide, your glowing hair brightening with a light she could not dim.
“You lied,” you whispered. Seyla froze. You stepped back again, your breath shaking, your heart racing.
“You lied about the world. You lied about the lanterns. You lied about me.” Seyla’s expression hardened, the calm mask cracking.
“Child-”
“I am not your child.”
The words left your lips with trembling certainty. Your glowing hair flared with golden light, illuminating the tower, illuminating the truth, illuminating the lies that had held you captive for so long. Seyla stepped toward you, her voice sharp.
“You do not understand what you are.” You shook your head, tears gathering in your eyes.
“I understand enough.” You saw the spiral again. You saw the visions. You saw the lanterns rising every year for a girl who never returned. You saw yourself. And far across the forest, in the Metkayina village, Neteyam sat alone, grounded and helpless, staring at the horizon with fear in his heart, whispering your name into the wind.
The tower felt smaller with every breath you took. The spirals on the walls glowed faintly in your memory, each one whispering a truth you were no longer able to ignore. Your glowing hair pulsed with a restless light, brightening and dimming like a heartbeat. Seyla moved around the room with quiet purpose, pretending nothing had changed, but you felt the shift.
You felt the lie cracking open. You stepped toward the door. Seyla turned at once. “Where are you going,” she asked, her voice too calm.
You swallowed. “I need to see something.”
She stepped in front of the door, her eyes narrowing. “There is nothing for you outside. You are confused. You are frightened. You must stay here where you are safe.” The word safe felt like a chain tightening around your chest.
You took another step. Your glowing hair brightened. Your heart pounded. “I need to go,” you whispered. Seyla’s calm cracked.
“You will stay.” You shook your head. She reached for your arm. You pulled away. The air in the tower shifted. Your glowing hair flared with golden light. Seyla’s voice sharpened. “You do not understand what you are. The world will take you. The world will use you. The world will break you.”
You stepped back, breath trembling. “The world is not what you told me,” you said. “I saw the spirals. I saw the visions. I saw the lanterns.”
Seyla’s eyes flashed with anger. “You are mine.” The words struck you like a blow.
But the truth rose inside you, bright and fierce. “I am not yours.” Seyla lunged. You turned and ran. Your glowing hair streamed behind you like a comet of golden fire. You raced down the tower steps, breath sharp, heart pounding. The forest opened before you, wide and wild, and for a moment you felt free.
But Seyla was fast. She caught your wrist and pulled you back with a strength that stole your breath. You stumbled, falling to your knees, your glowing hair spilling across the ground.
Seyla knelt beside you, her voice low and cold. “You will not leave me. You will not throw away everything I have done for you.”
Tears blurred your vision. “You lied,” you whispered. Seyla’s grip tightened. “I protected you.” You shook your head. “You kept me.”
Her expression twisted. “You are not ready for the truth.” You looked up at her, glowing hair brightening with a fierce, trembling light.
“I am ready for everything you hid from me.”
Seyla’s eyes hardened. “You will forget this foolishness.” She dragged you back toward the tower. You struggled, but her grip was iron. The forest blurred. The tower rose again, tall and cold, waiting to swallow you whole. Far across the forest, in the Metkayina village, Neteyam fought against the his brother who held him. His breath shook with fear. His voice broke with your name. He had not left you. He had not abandoned you. He had been taken. But you did not know. Not yet. And the tower door closed behind you once more.
wer felt colder than ever. The golden light that had burst from you still lingered in the air, clinging to the walls like the last warmth of a dying sun. Seyla paced the room with sharp, restless steps, her calm mask shattered. She watched you with eyes full of fear and fury, as if she no longer recognized the girl she had raised.
You sat near the window, your glowing hair coiled around you in trembling strands. The light pulsed softly, refusing to dim, refusing to obey. You tried to steady your breath, but your heart beat too fast, too loud, too full of truth.
Seyla stopped pacing. “You will not leave this tower again,” she said. You lifted your head slowly. “I cannot stay here.” Seyla’s expression twisted.
“You think you know the world. You think you understand what waits for you. You are wrong.”
You rose to your feet. Your glowing hair brightened.
“I know you lied.” Seyla moved toward you with sudden force. She grabbed your wrist, pulling you closer, her grip tight enough to sting.
“I kept you alive,” she said. “I kept you hidden. I kept you safe.” You met her eyes, your voice trembling but steady.
“You kept me trapped.” Seyla’s jaw clenched. She dragged you toward the center of the room, her movements sharp and desperate. She reached for a length of woven vine rope she had hidden beneath the table.
Your breath caught.
“Seyla”
“You will not run again,” she said.
She wrapped the rope around your wrist, binding it to the heavy wooden post beside the bed. The vines tightened with a soft rustle, glowing faintly as they reacted to your hair’s light.
You pulled, but the knot held firm.
Seyla stepped back, breathing hard, her eyes wild.
“You will stay here,” she said. “You will forget the spirals. You will forget the visions. You will forget the boy.”
Your heart twisted painfully.
“I will not forget him,” you whispered.
Seyla’s face darkened.
“You will.”
She turned away, gathering herbs and cloth with shaking hands, trying to rebuild the calm she had lost. But the tower felt different now. The truth had seeped into the walls. The light had changed everything.
You sat on the floor, your wrist bound, your glowing hair pooling around you like a river of gold. Tears gathered in your eyes, but the light in your hair refused to fade. It pulsed with quiet strength, as if reminding you that the truth could not be chained.
Far across the forest, in the Metkayina village, Neteyam struggled against the guards who kept him confined. His wrists were raw from the bindings. His breath shook with fear and frustration. He stared at the horizon, whispering your name into the wind.
He felt your light. He felt your fear. He felt the distance between you like a blade. He pulled against the ropes again, desperate to reach you, desperate to tell you he had not left you, desperate to break free.
But the village held him. Jake’s rule kept him trapped. And the forest between you grew darker by the moment. In the tower, you closed your eyes, your glowing hair brightening with each heartbeat. You were chained. You were frightened. But you were no longer blind. And Seyla knew it. She watched you from across the room, her eyes full of a fear she could not hide. She was losing you.
Back in the village when everything was settled for the night, Neteyam ran. He sprinted across the walkways, ignoring the shouts behind him. His heart pounded with one thought, one truth, one name. You.
Seyla’s anger simmered beneath her calm voice as she gathered her satchel. “I must fetch herbs,” she said. “You will stay where you are.” She tightened the vine rope around your wrist, testing the knot, then swept out of the tower and disappeared into the forest. The door closed behind her with a heavy thud.
You sat in the dim tower light, your glowing hair coiled around you in trembling strands. The room felt too quiet, too still, as if holding its breath. Then you felt it. A warmth. A presence. A heartbeat that was not your own.
Neteyam.
Your breath caught. Your glowing hair brightened. Footsteps approached the tower. Fast. Desperate. A shadow passed the window. A familiar voice called your name. You scrambled to your feet, pulling against the rope. “Neteyam,” you whispered. He reached the window and tried to open the shutter. It was locked. He pulled harder. The wood groaned. He stepped back, braced himself, and slammed his shoulder into it.
The shutter cracked. He struck it again. And again. With a final blow, the wood splintered and fell to the ground below. Neteyam climbed through the broken frame, breath shaking, eyes wide with fear and relief. He saw you bound and trembling. You ran to him as far as the rope allowed. He crossed the room and pulled you into his arms.
You pressed your face into his chest, tears spilling down your cheeks. “I thought you left,” you whispered. “I would never leave you,” he said, voice shaking. He held you tightly, his hands trembling against your back. For a moment, the world felt whole again. But the moment shattered.
A sharp gasp echoed from the doorway. Seyla stood there, her eyes wide with fury. She saw the broken shutter. She saw Neteyam holding you. She saw the truth she had tried to bury. Her face twisted. With a scream, she tore aside a hidden stone panel in the wall, revealing a narrow passageway. She rushed up the steps, her footsteps pounding above you. Neteyam turned, pulling you behind him, but Seyla was already upon him. She grabbed a jagged shard of stone from the broken wall and slashed it across his side.
Neteyam gasped and fell to his knees. Blood spread across the floor. You screamed and dropped beside him, your hands shaking as you tried to hold him. Seyla stood over you both, breath sharp, eyes wild. “It is too late,” she said. “He is dying. You cannot save him.” You pressed your hands to Neteyam’s wound, tears falling onto his skin. “Please,” you whispered. “Please stay with me.” Neteyam lifted a trembling hand and cupped your cheek. His touch was soft, gentle, full of love even as his strength faded. He pulled you closer. Your lips met in a trembling, desperate kiss.
And in that moment, he reached for the knife at his belt. He cut your glowing hair. The golden strands fell to the floor. The light vanished. The magic died. Seyla gasped. Her skin cracked. Her body withered.
Her youth drained away like water through broken stone. She stumbled backward, screaming, clawing at the air as her strength vanished. She fell through the broken window, her voice fading into the distance. Silence filled the tower.
You turned back to Neteyam, breath shaking, heart breaking. Your hair no longer glowed. Your hands no longer shone. Your power was gone. You pressed your forehead to his, sobbing. “It is too late,” you whispered. “I cannot heal you. I cannot save you.” Neteyam’s eyes closed. You cried harder, your tears falling onto his wound, onto his skin, onto the floor. And then A soft warmth spread beneath your hands. A faint shimmer. A gentle pulse. A glow that did not come from your hair. You lifted your head, breath trembling.
Neteyam’s wound was closing. Your tears had healed him. You had saved him before he cut your hair. You had healed him without knowing. His eyes opened slowly. You let out a broken, joyful cry and threw your arms around him. He held you tightly, breathing hard, alive and warm and real. The tower stood quiet. And for the first time, you were free.
The tower felt strangely quiet after everything that had happened. The broken shutter lay on the ground outside, the rope hung loose from the wooden post, and the golden strands of your cut hair rested in a soft circle on the floor. Nothing glowed anymore. Nothing shimmered. Yet the room felt brighter than it ever had.
You sat beside Neteyam, your hands still resting on his chest, afraid to move in case the warmth beneath your palms vanished. His breathing was steady now, soft and even, rising and falling beneath your touch. His eyes were closed, but his face was peaceful, no longer twisted in pain.
You brushed a trembling hand along his cheek.
“You are alive,” you whispered.
Neteyam opened his eyes slowly. They were warm and gentle, filled with a softness that made your heart ache. He lifted his hand and placed it over yours.
“I am here,” he said.
You leaned forward and pressed your forehead to his, closing your eyes as relief washed through you. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. You simply breathed together, holding on to the truth that you had both survived.
Neteyam shifted slightly, sitting up with a quiet wince. You steadied him, your hands gentle on his shoulders. He looked around the tower, taking in the broken window, the fallen stones, the empty space where Seyla had stood.
“It is over,” he said softly. You nodded, though your heart felt heavy.
“She raised me,” you said. “She lied to me, but she raised me.” Neteyam touched your cheek with gentle fingers.
“You are free now.” The words settled over you like warm sunlight. Free. The tower no longer held you. The lies no longer bound you. The world outside was yours. You rose slowly, helping Neteyam to his feet. He leaned on you for a moment, steadying himself, then straightened with quiet strength. You walked together toward the broken window, the place where everything had changed. The forest stretched out before you, calm and green, the leaves shimmering softly in the morning light. The air felt fresh, new, full of promise. Neteyam looked at you, his eyes warm.
“Let us go home.” You hesitated.
“Will they accept me,” you asked. “After everything.” Neteyam took your hand, lacing his fingers through yours.
“They will see your heart,” he said. “They will see your light, even without the glow.” You looked down at your hair, now soft and ordinary, no longer shining with golden magic. For a moment, sadness tugged at your chest.
Neteyam lifted your chin gently.
“You healed me,” he said. “Your power was never only in your hair.” Your breath caught. You felt warmth bloom inside your chest, soft and steady. Together, you stepped through the broken window frame. Neteyam climbed down first, then reached up to help you. Your feet touched the forest floor for the first time as a free person. The tower stood behind you, tall and silent, no longer a prison. You did not look back. Neteyam squeezed your hand. You squeezed back. And together, you walked toward the village, toward the truth, toward the life waiting for you. The first dawn of your freedom had begun.
Neteyam held your hand as you walked along the familiar wooden paths of the Metkayina village. The ocean stretched out before you, calm and bright, its surface shimmering like woven glass. Your heart beat fast, each step heavier than the last. You were free. You were safe. But you were walking toward a truth you had never known.
Neteyam squeezed your hand gently.
“They have waited for you,” he said.
You swallowed, unsure, your breath trembling.
“Who,” you whispered. He did not answer. He only guided you forward. The walkway opened into the central clearing of the village. The marui pods glowed softly in the afternoon light. The sea breeze brushed your face. And standing at the far end of the platform were two figures.
A tall man with broad shoulders, strong posture, and eyes full of depth and sorrow. Tonowari. Beside him stood a woman with long braids, sea‑blue markings, and a presence that felt both powerful and gentle. Her eyes were already filled with tears. Ronal. You froze. Ronal took one step forward, her breath catching the moment she saw you. Her hand flew to her mouth, trembling.
“My child,” she whispered, voice breaking. Tonowari’s chest rose sharply. His hands shook at his sides. You stared at them, your heart pounding, your mind unable to understand the feeling rising inside you. Something ancient. Something instinctive. Something that felt like home. Neteyam placed a hand on your back, steady and warm.
“These are your parents,” he said softly. Your breath shattered into a sob.
Ronal moved first. She crossed the distance between you with trembling steps, tears streaming down her cheeks. She reached you slowly, as if afraid you might disappear. Her hands cupped your face, gentle and shaking.
“My precious one,” she whispered. “My daughter.” Tonowari stepped beside her, his voice thick with emotion.
“We have searched for you every day. Every tide. Every season.” Your knees weakened. Your tears fell freely. You leaned into their touch, overwhelmed by a love you had never known but somehow recognized. Ronal pulled you into her arms, holding you tightly, her breath shaking against your shoulder. Tonowari wrapped his arms around both of you, his forehead resting against your hair.
You cried into their embrace, your hands gripping their arms, your heart finally understanding the spirals, the visions, the lanterns. You had been loved. You had been wanted. You had been missed. When you finally pulled back, Ronal brushed your cheek with her thumb, memorizing every line of your face. Tonowari placed a hand over your heart, his eyes shining.
Neteyam stood a few steps behind, watching with soft, relieved eyes. You turned to him. He smiled. You ran into his arms, and he lifted you gently, holding you close. His forehead pressed to yours, his breath warm and steady.
“You are home,” he whispered.
Your parents watched with gratitude and quiet joy. The sea shimmered behind them. The village glowed with soft light. For the first time in your life, you felt whole. You were free. You were loved. You were home.
The village glowed with soft evening light as you walked beside Neteyam, your hand resting gently in his. The ocean shimmered with calm waves, and the air carried the quiet hum of distant song. Everything felt new, as if the world itself had shifted to welcome you home.
Ronal and Tonowari walked ahead, glancing back at you often, as if they still could not believe you were truly there. Ronal’s eyes softened each time she looked at you. Tonowari’s shoulders relaxed in a way they had not in years.
You stepped onto the main platform, and the villagers gathered slowly, whispering in awe. Some covered their mouths. Some pressed hands to their hearts. Some simply stared, tears in their eyes.
Ronal lifted her chin proudly.
“This is my daughter,” she said. Tonowari placed a hand over his chest.
“She has returned to us.” The crowd bowed their heads in respect. You felt warmth bloom inside your chest. Ronal approached you and gently brushed a strand of your now‑short hair behind your ear.
“You are perfect,” she said softly. “With or without the glow.” Tonowari stepped closer, placing a large, steady hand on your shoulder.
“You are strong,” he said. “Stronger than any of us knew.” You swallowed, emotion rising in your throat.
“I did not know who I was,” you said. “I did not know where I belonged.” Ronal cupped your cheek.
“You belong here,” she said. “With your people. With your family.”
Tonowari nodded.
“With your heart.” You felt tears gather in your eyes. For the first time, the word family felt real. Neteyam stepped beside you, his presence warm and steady. He looked at your parents with quiet respect, then at you with a softness that made your breath catch. Ronal noticed the way he looked at you. Her lips curved into a small, knowing smile.
Tonowari let out a slow breath, as if accepting something he had already suspected. Neteyam reached for your hand. You took it without hesitation. Ronal spoke gently. “You have a place here. A home. A life waiting for you.” Tonowari added,
“And you may choose your own path now.” You looked at the ocean, at the glowing village, at the faces filled with hope. Then you looked at Neteyam. Your heart knew its answer.
“I choose this,” you said softly. “I choose all of you.”
Ronal pulled you into her arms again, holding you tightly. Tonowari wrapped his arms around both of you, his embrace warm and steady. Neteyam stood close, his hand resting lightly on your back, as if promising he would never leave your side. The village lights shimmered. The sea whispered against the shore. Your parents held you. Neteyam smiled at you with quiet love. Your new life had begun.
The village came alive the moment the news spread. Soft blue lanterns were lit along the walkways, drifting gently in the evening breeze. Children ran ahead, laughing and pointing, whispering your name as if it were a story they had only heard in legends. The sea glowed with bioluminescent light, as if Eywa herself welcomed you home.
Ronal stood beside you, one hand resting over her heart, the other gently holding your arm as if she feared you might vanish again. Tonowari walked on your other side, tall and proud, his eyes shining with emotion he rarely showed. Between them, you felt safe. You felt claimed. You felt loved.
Behind you, Neteyam followed closely, his gaze never leaving you. Every time you glanced back, he smiled softly, as if he still could not believe you were truly there.
The villagers gathered in a wide circle near the water. Soft drums began to play, slow and steady, echoing across the sea. Ronal guided you to the center, her touch gentle, reverent.
Tonowari raised his voice, deep and steady.
“Tonight, we celebrate the return of our daughter. She has endured darkness. She has survived lies. She has found her way home.”
A soft murmur of joy rippled through the crowd. Ronal stepped forward, her eyes full of tears.
“You were taken from us, yet your spirit remained strong. Eywa has guided you back. You are our light.” You felt your throat tighten. Your hands trembled. Your heart swelled with emotion you could not name. Ronal lifted a small bowl of glowing water and dipped her fingers into it. She touched your forehead, drawing a gentle spiral, the same symbol you had painted all your life without knowing why.
Tonowari placed his hand over your heart.
“You are Metkayina,” he said. “You are ours.”
The villagers bowed their heads in respect. You felt warmth bloom inside your chest. Neteyam stepped forward, his eyes soft. He held out his hand. You took it.
The drums shifted into a brighter rhythm. The villagers began to dance, their movements fluid and joyful, their voices rising in song. Children wove glowing shells into your hair. Women embraced you with tears in their eyes. Warriors placed their hands over their hearts as you passed. Ronal watched you with pride. Tonowari stood tall, his expression full of quiet joy. Neteyam leaned close, his voice soft.
“You belong here.” You looked at him, your heart full.
“I do,” you said. “I finally do.” He smiled, warm and gentle, and brushed his forehead against yours. The lanterns drifted upward, glowing softly against the night sky. The sea shimmered. The village sang. And for the first time, you felt the celebration was truly for you. Your life had begun again. Your family was whole. Your heart was free.
The days that followed were gentle and full of discovery. You woke each morning to the sound of waves brushing the shore and the soft glow of the marui pod. Ronal guided you through the rhythms of the Metkayina, teaching you the ways of the sea, the meaning of the spirals, the songs of your people.
Tonowari watched proudly as you learned to swim with the ilu, your movements growing stronger and more graceful each day. Children followed you everywhere, fascinated by your story, asking you to braid their hair or paint spirals on their hands.
And always, Neteyam was near.
He walked with you along the sand.
He helped you learn the currents.
He laughed softly when you splashed him on purpose.
He held your hand when the memories grew heavy.
One evening, as the sun dipped low, you sat beside him on a quiet rock overlooking the sea. The water glowed beneath your feet.
“I never imagined a life like this,” you said.
Neteyam looked at you with warm eyes.
“You were meant for this life,” he said. “You were meant for the sea.”
You leaned your head against his shoulder, feeling the peace of the moment settle around you like a soft tide.
Your new life had begun to take shape.The village gathered again one night, not for celebration, but for quiet song. The moon hung low over the water, casting silver light across the waves. You stood at the edge of the walkway, watching the sea breathe in and out.
Neteyam approached you from behind, his steps soft.
“You are quiet tonight,” he said.
“I am thinking,” you replied. “About everything I lost. And everything I found.”
Neteyam stepped beside you, his presence warm.
“You have endured more than most,” he said. “Yet you stand here with strength.”
You turned to him, your eyes soft.
“You helped me find that strength.”
He reached for your hand, lifting it gently.
“I will always stand with you,” he said. “In every tide. In every season. In every life.”
Your breath caught.
His words wrapped around your heart like a promise woven from light.
He leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours.
“I will protect you,” he whispered. “Not because you are fragile, but because you are precious.”
You closed your eyes, letting the warmth of his voice settle into your soul.
“I promise the same,” you said softly. “I will walk beside you.”
The sea glowed brighter, as if blessing the vow.
That night, Ronal prepared a resting space for you inside the family marui pod. Soft woven mats, warm shells, and gentle sea‑scented cloth surrounded you. It felt strange to lie down in a place that was truly yours, a place filled with love instead of fear.
Ronal sat beside you for a moment, brushing a strand of hair from your face.
“You are safe,” she said. “Sleep without fear.”
Tonowari placed a hand on your shoulder.
“We are here,” he said. “Always.”
When they left, the pod grew quiet. The ocean whispered outside, steady and calm. You curled beneath the woven blanket, feeling the warmth of the day settle into your bones.
A soft rustle came from the entrance.
Neteyam stood there, hesitant, respectful.
“I only wished to see if you were well,” he said.
You smiled.
“I am.”
He stepped closer, kneeling beside your resting place.
“Good,” he said softly. “You deserve peace.”
You reached for his hand.
He took it gently, brushing his thumb across your knuckles.
The touch lingered, warm and steady.
You whispered, “Stay for a moment.”
Neteyam’s breath softened. He leaned closer, his forehead brushing yours. The glow of the pod lights reflected in his eyes, turning them soft and bright.
“You are home,” he said. “And I am grateful you are here.”
Your heart fluttered.
You lifted your hand to his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your palm.
“I love you Neteyam” you whispered. a large smile crept onto his face and he could swear hes never been more happy in his life.
“I love you so much Y/N” He beamed radiant and bright.
Neteyam leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away.
You did not.
Your lips met in a soft, gentle kiss, warm, careful, full of everything you had both carried through fear and loss and hope. His hand cupped your jaw, steady and tender. Your fingers curled into his hair, pulling him closer for a moment that felt like the beginning of something new.
When you parted, your breath trembled softly.
Neteyam rested his forehead against yours.
“Goodnight,” he whispered.
“Goodnight,” you replied, your voice warm.
He lingered for one last heartbeat, then rose and stepped outside. The curtain fell softly behind him.
You touched your lips, still warm from his kiss, and closed your eyes.
For the first time in your life, you slept without fear.
You slept with love surrounding you.
You slept knowing you were home.
𓆝𓆟༝˚｡⋆𓆉︎⋆｡˚༝𓆞𓆝
⋆˚꩜｡epilogue: In which you and Neteyam spend the night together after mating. ⋆.˚𓇼Warnings: SMUT. ⋆.˚𓇼wc: 4k
Where on a regular Monday morning (Y/N) and her son are late to catch the bus for his school. Deciding that they're already late (Y/N) decides to take her son the long way but despite going the scenic route numerous times before, they end up going somewhere completely different ie; The land of Westeros.
Based on THIS imagine right here!
Fic Parts:
Part I: Coming Soon!
Part II: In Progress!
While you wait here are some WIPs of the story and what is to come:
The clock is striking midnight, but you find yourself in the arms of none other than the most eligible man in the nation - Prince Gojo. Teaching you how to dance and then sneaking a kiss, it's almost enough to make you forget who you really are. When reality comes crashing and all Satoru is left with is a pretty earring that fell on those steps, can he ever find the girl in the mask?
pairings - prince! gojo x cinderella! reader
warnings- first time kisses, literally a fairy tale, love at first sight, fingering, no sex bc our man is making us wait for the wedding. Fluffier than any of my usual and maybe my sweetest Gojo <3 - 5.2k wc
This is part of @jazzthatonewriterchick's ain't no fairytale event! congrats on your following, and TYSM for inviting me! <3
yummy ass prince gojo art is by my bb @levitonin plz go follow them on x and here they're insanely talentedd!
You step into the elegant ballroom as you clutch your gown in your hands, the delicate material crimping in your tight grip. It's scandalous for you to be here - the illegitimate daughter of a high lord, the stepsister to the real ladies.
Are you an imposter? Are you a dreamer? The questions swirl in your mind as you peer up at the pretty chandelier dangling above the room, casting its soft glow upon everyone swirling over the marble floor in pretty pirouettes.
That's when you lay eyes on him - Prince Gojo, it's the official season where he will indeed be looking for a match, and every girl along with every hungry mama is after him. Partly he seems fine with the attention, grinning and laughing, winking so that girls had to fan themselves
Yet, another part?
He seems almost as out of place as you once the flock is off, waiting for their number on their dance card, leaning back against the wall and talking to his advisor. It was known that Prince Gojo would soon enough be King, and with that must come many duties.
You can't help but find yourself lost in his pretty features, almost otherworldly, especially when his eyes catch yours from across that ballroom, drifting across your face and neck with enough intensity to make you blush underneath your glittery mask. You quickly turn and rush outside to grab some sort of air when he starts to near you, your heart racing in your chest.
"Wait up," you hear his voice then - perhaps it makes the man all the more attractive, deep and husky, hitting your core and making you feel flustered. "Are you alright?"
You turn slowly, the moonlight is glittering on his pale skin, making him look much like the statues in this very garden, clutching your gown tighter. "I... I just needed some air, Your Highness.
His lips curl into this devastating smile, but it's softer than any royal should be, as he drinks you in, pretty blues in a myriad of shades assessing you carefully. "The ballroom can be overwhelming, can't it?”
"It can indeed…”
Your heart hammers in your chest as he takes another step closer, the scent of bergemot and something distinct to him filling your senses. You've hardly been around a man aside from the servants who have befriended you, and you certainly weren't in such proximity as this, almost stumbling off the stone steps when he catches you.
"Oh! I'm so sorry, your highness!"
"Careful, sweetheart," he murmurs softly, brushing over you with his voice, lilting as the wind catches it, his long fingers taking your wrist over. He's so very tall anyone would feel small compared to him, but he's..
He's sweet.
"I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting you before," he says softly, taking in the beautiful glimmering blue gown, it was not in 'season' or 'fashion' so to speak, moreso something that was left in one of his mother's wardrobes, but it fit you perfectly. "I think I'd remember such a meeting. What’s your name?”
Your name.
You can’t tell him – what if it got back you snuck away from your stepmother? She’d have you sweeping that damn chimney for the rest of your existence.
Your pulse rushes in your ears, stepping just a little closer, knowing you're probably terrible at pretending to really be nobility, or any sort of lady, feeling the heat of his palm through your satin gloves. "I'm... um, just a guest."
"Every guest has a name," he says, his gaze drifting down to the little chain on your neck curiously, his hand falling off. "Tell me, what brings someone so lovely to hide in the gardens rather than dance?"
"I'm afraid I cannot dance," Satoru blinks curiously, the way the moonlight hits your face and bounces off that silver mask has him almost blushing, the rise and fall of your chest in that snug corset, your own faint blush heating up your skin - out of every girl tonight, you're just...
Different.
"Cannot dance? Nonsense," he smirks and holds out a hand now, tilting his head. "I'll teach you."
"N-no! I'm utterly unteachable... I... oh!" Satoru tugged you in his arms, and you fell against his hard chest, a hand on that elegant blue uniform he's wearing. "Prince Gojo..."
"Call me Satoru."
“Oh I could not ever,” you are panicking being this close to him, his heat, his hard chest so strong as you stumble and damn near trip over your feet. “I’m stepping all over you!”
“It’s fine,” you could literally walk on Satoru and he’d just thank you, with those pretty glass slippers that click gently as you move. He picks you up and grins as you gasp out. “I’ve got you.”
“You cannot just…” he’s lifted you off the ground now so that your feet are on his, moving and guiding you with a little chuckle. “I’ll hurt your feet!”
“Nah, I’m fine,” he’s more than fine – Satoru thinks he’s fucking in love at first sight.
The nonsense of fairytales, but how else does he explain how perfect your corseted waist feels in his arms? How you’re looking at him and making him melt? Satoru’s in love with a girl and he doesn’t even know her name. Perhaps it’s the champagne and how pretty you are, perhaps his advisor Suguru was right and Satoru was a dreamer.
Yet you’re like a dream waltzing rather clumsily on his feet.
He finally manages to speak, to act like any of this is normal, his lips quirking up at the corner. "You're a natural, see?"
"I'm just standing on your feet!” You’re giggling though, the sound and your smile making him ache. He can only wonder how beautiful you were without half of your face covered, even more pretty than those eyes and those lips?
Yet it’s more, something about you drawing him in, he tightens his hold on you, your body pressed to his, clearing his throat as he tries to focus.
Tonight was supposed to be ‘the end’ so to speak – find a boring, perfect debutante for his bride, he had been dreading it for months, yet all he can think of right now is how much he is enjoying being in this garden with you.
"Details."
“No? Actual facts?”
“Semantics, sweetheart,” you laugh again, shaking your head.
“You’re nothing like I’d think a Prince to be.”
“Is that good or bad?” He asks, stopping his movements and easing you off his feet, not releasing you, no, he’s got you firm against him still. The music from the ballroom is fading, just a little hazy in both of your ears, intermingling with his soft chuckle and your little pleased sigh.
“It’s good, very good,” you can’t say it – that you are so wary of nobility because of your step mother, because you’re hidden merely because your mother was a mistress rather than a wife. “You’re just… different.”
“I could say that about you,” his lashes lowered just a bit, hand on the small of your back sliding up where it’s bare, ever so scandalously. "I think we've earned a break from the lesson, yes?”
You manage a little nod, swallowing nervously as Satoru’s silk gloved hand slides from your back to the nape of your neck, his fingers tangling gently in the hair that’s coiffed and pinned. He tilts your head back gently, having you meet his gaze, your own hands sliding to his chest, hidden by the alcove so that you’re just out of sight.
If you’re going to have one night of freedom, shouldn’t it be a good one?
How can you think like this!
"You're blushing again," he murmurs, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin just below your ear. "Even your ears are warm. Is it the dancing, or is it me?"
You can't form a coherent thought, let alone any sort of words for an answer, just looking up at him and wetting your lips nervously, tongue slipping over the plump of your lower one.
“Asked you a question, princess.”
“Oh I’m so far from that,” you whisper, he chuckles as he thinks to himself how your hips would give him perfect heirs, how he’d love those lips to be glossy from his saliva rather than anything else.
“Every girl here wants to be the next princess,” he says, nose brushing yours as he bends down. “Not you, though.”
“Not me…”
Gong. Gong. Gong.
“Oh!” You look at the giant clock ticking overhead, enormous and pristine, loudly echoing in your ears. “It’s almost midnight. I should… go.”
“A curfew?” He asks, even more curious, nobles party until well into the morning, but you’re leaning up now, hugging him around his neck, making him falter.
“Thank you for tonight, Satoru,” god how your name sounds on his lips, pressing a kiss on his cheek and pausing, a breath away from the corner of his mouth. He tilts your chin up, studying you carefully.
“Running away already?”
“I must soon…” You trail off and look right at his lips, sighing. “Perhaps one minute more.”
“May I kiss you, before you disappear?” He asks then, you nod quickly, seeing the lashes casting shadows on his high cheeks as he bends down, closing the distance and capturing your lips.
The first press of his lips is impossibly soft, a tentative movement that he pulls back from quickly, exhaling, the breath ghosting over your mouth, grip tightening as he paints soft kisses against them. You whine out before you can stop yourself, making him moan and pause for just a moment.
“Oh I’ve… never kissed…”
“I’m your first kiss?” He asks softly, you nod and tug him down again, making him chuckle. “Did you like it, princess?”
“I do very much,” he kisses you again, his tongue slipping on the seam of your lips as if it’s seeking entry, tasting of champagne and something sweet – scones, you think, the mixture hypnotic somehow.
Your first kiss is with Prince Gojo.
You both stumble a bit until you fall onto him in the gardens, he lands on his back with a soft thud on the grass. You’re gasping as you lose your balance, Satoru chuckles as he catches you on his body, holding you tightly, lips pulled into a full grin that makes him look even more handsome.
“Hmm, I’d like to see you without this mask.”
“Sir you’re very bold,” he raises a brow, hands on your hips – god imagine kissing you between your thighs, holding them firm?
“Says the lady on my lap.”
“Oh, you’re a tease!” You lean up and his eyes are glittering , leaning up on his elbows and nuzzling your nose with his. “Mngh…”
“The sounds you make,” he whispers, you’re straddling him with your skirts strewn all across you, heat pressing on his length, you probably don’t even know what it is but you grind on it, making him hiss. “Just from a kiss, I wonder how you’d sound if I kissed you here.”
His lips press on the rushing pulse behind your ear, you’re rolling those hips once more, fingers entangled in his silky locks, his breath sending trembles across you, the whine that escapes your lips almost makes him lose it.
“Fuck…”
“Oh dear, I’m so-”
“Don’t move, god,” he moans and grips you rougher than he meant to, arching up as he kisses up the side of your neck, lips drifting over your frantic, racing little pulse, your nails press into his shoulders, holding still as his breath ghosts your collarbone, fingertips brushing across your neckline.
“It feels so good,” you can’t help but move again, making him suck in a breath, kissing you deeper, your arms wrapping his neck as your tongue slips in and out of his mouth, exhaling as you move with him, feeling this need building inside that has you hot, dizzy. “Satoru…”
“Don’t leave,” he whispers, lips glossy from your kisses, sighing and cupping your face gently. “Stay. I’ll tell your chaperones.”
Chaperones.
As if you had those.
“I cannot…”
“We will pause,” he says, barely holding onto his last thread, eyes looking up at the pretty masked girl sitting on his lap, sitting up fully and studying you carefully. “I must know more about you, anything… especially your name-”
Gong Gong Gong.
“I’m so sorry,” you stumble off his lap, questioning yourself then – hearing your stepmother and stepsisters in your head making fun of you.
As if you fit in?
Tonight was an insane idea, one your fellow servants had for you, these glittery slippers and your mother’s old gown weighing heavy as you stand, almost stumbling as your heel digs into the earth. The Prince stands with you, steadying you with a hand on your upper arm, his lips parted.
“There’s nothing interesting about me,” you whisper, tears slipping and glimmering in your eyes.
“I find that impossible to believe.”
You smile, lips trembling, before kissing his cheek, your own lashes closing, sticky droplets of tears falling from them. You murmur your name for his ears, before rushing away, holding onto your dress as you ascend the narrow steps towards the ballroom, hearing him call it out.
“Don’t go! Please, just…” You turn and he can’t see your face then, not with the lighting of the ballroom as your background, casting a shadow of your figure.
“Thank you, my Prince,” you turn once more, Satoru rushes up the stairs then, pausing when he sees a glinting bauble on the step by his dress shoe. He picks it up, studying it carefully, his gaze flickering to where you’ve completely disappeared.
Your name was not familiar, it was not a family he’d ever heard of, a name he’d ever heard either.
Just who were you?
*****
“Hurry, miss, hurry!” Your fellow servants are rushing to undress you from the big gown as your carriage, rickety and loud, has made it just before your step family.
“Turn!” You do just that and let them unlace the back of it in quick little motions, the fellow women studying you once they put back on your maid attire.
“Miss, did you…”
“I um…” You’re blushing now, giggling as if you’re intoxicated from that sip of champagne, nodding.
“You kissed!” You shush one of them, even though the three of you are breathlessly laughing. “Tell us, tell us!”
“He was so handsome, so sweet,” you sigh, all dreamy, looking in the mirror and smoothing your apron down your front, touching your ear then. “Oh dear, I lost one of mama’s earrings!”
“She would have wanted you to have fun,” you get emotional then, as they fix up your hair – they still take care of you when they can, remembering how things were before your father remarried, when you were the lady of the house despite the mother you had not being ‘nobility’.
Your mother – all you have is a little photo of her in a locket.
“Was she kind, mama? Would she…” You swallow just a bit. “Like me?”
“Of course she would, miss,” they turn to you then, trying to cheer you up. “Who kissed the lipstain off.”
You blush furiously, before leaning over to whisper. “A prince.”
“A prince!?”
“Shh!” You hear it then, the hooves of the horses on the cobblestone path, turning your head to peer right back at the noise, the one earring you have left firmly in your palm. “We must act normal… but…”
“But?” You turn to them and your eyes well up with emotions, taking each of their hands.
“It was the best night of my life.”
*****
“This earring,” Satoru smiles days later as he has tea across from several young ladies – four daughters in one family, all matching your height and some of your features. He assesses them carefully, searching for any sign of you – since the name you gave him existed in no public records.
Where was the masked girl with the one earring?
“It’s mine!” One girl exclaims, giggling and standing. “It must be mine, your highness.”
“Ah, I see,” he stands and walks over, peering into her eyes, hoping for anything to click like it did before – it had been dark out, was he mistaking this? Was it really you? “Where’s the matching?”
She falters then, and her sisters are laughing at her. “I um… your highness, as it were… I do not…”
“I see…” He finishes his tea and bows at the giggling ladies, smiling all charming like he’s not losing his mind. “Farewell, for now, dear ladies.”
He’s furious when he slams the carriage door, his advisor Suguru looking up from the ledgers he’s balancing while waiting for the prince. His dark eyes take Satoru in carefully. “You look like shit.”
“Aw thanks, Suguru,” he snorts and Satoru climbs in across from him, earring flipped over and over in his palm. “That’s every woman her height and hair color aside from one house – out of twenty nearly. And nothing.”
“What was it about her?” Suguru asks. “To make you announce you’re looking for a bride and all? It’s so unlike you.”
“I can’t tell you it’s…” Satoru touches his lip thoughtfully, spreading those long legs in the carriage bench, the plush velvet brushing his elegant tailcoat as it begins to rock towards the last stop. “It’s everything about her.”
“Is the prince in love at first sight?” Suguru is teasing, but when he sees Satoru’s glare he pauses. “Oh fuck… it is?”
“I don’t know what else this is, this feeling in my heart,” he clutches it over his dress shirt, staring out the pretty countryside view as they start to move towards the last hope. “I can’t describe it at all, but I must have her, I must know her… I cannot even think of another woman when she exists in this world.”
Suguru is quiet then.
“Who knew the rakish prince would fall so in love so quickly?”
“Shut it,” Suguru’s serious then, pulling up the information on the last house and studying it. “Who are they?”
“A widow and her two step daughters… some servants live there as well, but of course they wouldn’t be the ones you met. Maybe one of them is it?”
“We shall see…”
“Satoru?” He raises a brow. “If you don’t find her, what will you do?”
He laughs a bit, leaning his head back and throwing a forearm over his face, sinking against the seat and descending himself into darkness, picturing you so clearly. Running away from him even in his dreams, like he can never actually capture you.
“I don’t know if I can ever look at someone like that again.”
It’s quiet then.
“Well, I hope you’ll find her.”
*****
“The prince is coming!” Your stepmother rushes up to you and yanks your hair, making you cry out. “Make yourself good, girl! Now! Tea, chop chop!”
“Ouch,” you whine out when she smacks your cheek. “S-sorry…”
“Do not talk back!”
“I was not-”
“She’s become such a nuisance,” one of your sisters complains, donned in an obscenely gaudy pink gown, jeweled slippers that you’d worn that night, you pale when you see them.
“Those were my mother’s! You can’t have them!”
“Those were my mothers!” She’s mocking you, making hot tears prick the back of your eyes. “The prince is coming for me, you’ll let me wear them, you nor your mother was never worthy of such luxury.”
You almost smack her, knowing it’s a death sentence or at least a prison sentence to do so, feeling sick as the three women laugh.
“No, he’s coming for me!” Your other stepsister is wearing bright yellow, donned with the hairclip your mother left. “I couldn’t find those earrings of yours!”
“Why are you in my things when you have everything!?” They laugh again at your pain, your tears, always cruel without reason.
Why did you even go, why did you glimpse happiness when they were your reality?
“He’s here, shh!” Your stepmother and siblings stand in front of you now, blocking the view of the Prince being greeted, his dress shoes clicking on the hardwood beneath him. Your heart hammers in your chest as you stand there with your head down, your family making a spectacle of themselves.
“Your highness! Indeed, what an honor,” your mother is putting on the charm, but Satoru’s eyes are on you, a frown on his lips. “What do we owe the great pleasure of your visit?”
He sees the mark on the pretty servant’s cheek and glares at the woman now, the matriarch of the family scowling at you. “Please forgive us, we will leave her and retire to the-”
“You hit your help?” He asks, fists clenching underneath those white satin gloves, she blinks in confusion.
“Well, of course I do. She is quite-”
“You hit your fucking help, really?”
“Is it against any law, your highness?” She asks, raising a brow, Satoru grimaces in disgust, walking up to you, earning the caught breath of every servant, and the anger of your ‘family’.
“No it’s not, yet the thought of treating others like that disgusts me,” he peers down at you, tilting your chin up right in front of the room, your heart hammers so violently in your chest you feel dizzy. “Are you all right, sweetheart?”
Fuck.
Your knees go weak, the sudden sting of your cheek fading into nothing, not when he’s looking at you that way, you can hardly hold in your words – Satoru, it’s me.
You cannot let him know you impersonated a noble, he’s just being… kind, surely.
“I am fine, your highness,” your voice puts it all together for him then, and in that moment the world shrinks – to just you and Satoru Gojo.
Not just a prince, but the boy you kissed in those gardens.
“Is this yours?” He asks quietly, taking the earring out and watching your expression, hearing their huffs of anger.
“You snuck into the ball!? You little tramp!” Your stepsister shouts, stomping on over when Satoru holds up a hand, halting her in her steps, watching as you tug the other earring out of your little reticule, a trembling hand being touched by his.
“You will be executed for such a travesty!” Your mother says, but Satoru scoffs, simply sliding the hook of the earring through the little spot they were pierced when you were just a little babe. He takes the other but not before studying your hand, covered in callouses, rubbed raw from scrubbing.
“Do not look, please,” you whisper, embarrassed that he has to see them – the nails nonexistent, the skin dry and cracking. He takes off his own glove and sets the other earring on, before he touches your hand, taking it and flipping it over, studying it carefully. “Please…”
“You shall never work these hands like this again,” you gasp at that, letting him take both of them in his own, the touch and warmth of his skin making you dizzy. “I promise you that you won’t…”
He says your name, softly then, smiling all bright as you break out into tears, holding you against him. “Prince Satoru…”
“God I looked all over for you,” he whispers, hand on the small of your back, your clothes are so old they’re falling apart, you seem almost frail to him like this, weak and worn down, not the happy girl he met.
Yet he knows it then, surely.
He did fall in love at first sight.
“What do you think about becoming my princess?”
“I could never! I…”
“Come,” he picks you up like it’s nothing, carrying you right out of there, you cling to his neck as he cradles you and your stepmother rushes up.
“Surely I will get some compensation!” Your stepmother earns Satoru’s disgust as he looks upon her. “She was my late husband’s illegitimate offspring, I took her in when I did not have to! Fed her, clothed her, gave her shelter.”
“You did a fucking horrible job of all of it, if you ever loved your husband, how could you do this? This is why I hate nobility like you,” he clutches you tightly, feeling your face bury against his neck. “I’ll compensate you plenty to leave my kingdom, all of you, forever. Handsomely in fact. But you’ll never go near her again.”
“Satoru, you don’t have to!” You’re whispering, trembling in fear, but he ignores it all, shaking his head.
“I will make sure you have a nicer home than this, and dowries,” your stepmother quickly agrees, and that’s the last time you see her, or your stepsisters again. “Let us go visit your new home.”
*****
“They called you that, because you sat by the fireplace too much?” Satoru asks you softly weeks later, you all were having dinner but you’ve stayed in your own wing of his castle, he’s making sure that everything is properly done – the wedding a few more weeks away.
“They did,” you admit, holding his hand and blushing as he leans forward, studying it. “It’s still rough, Satoru.”
“That’s quite alright,” he kisses your knuckles then, his lips curving up in a sad smile. “I shall make sure that you never lift a pretty finger.”
“Nonsense!”
“No, you must stop helping clean and cook, too,” you shake your head, earning his smile widening. “Are you not listening to your prince?”
“Old habits die hard, at least let me bake with them! What else shall I do all day long!?”
“You’re a bratty girl,” you giggle, shaking your head and standing, walking over as he tugs you on his lap, sitting sideways, his fingers trailing across your knee, sliding that robe apart. “Very bratty.”
“Me, no indeed,” you are aching to do more, but Satoru has been very gentlemanly – so much in fact you find yourself moving on his lap in such a way that has his lashes fluttering closed. “Are you all right, my prince?”
“You’re killing me, perhaps you’re an evil girl after all,” your smile ruins him, along with the way goosebumps rise up your thigh. “Trying to tempt me before the marriage, hmm? No, no, we do it all properly – you’re my bride to be.”
“I can wait, I suppose,” your fingertips trail across his cheek, laughing softly then at his blush that dances across them. “Can you wait?”
“Indeed I have my methods,” jerking off to you every night after kissing you in front of your bedroom door. “Can you, pretty girl?”
“No,” you’re honest then, gasping as his fingers dart higher, your thighs spreading slightly as if on instinct. “Satoru…”
“Such an impatient girl, tsk,” he glides them higher until they find your cunt bare, already slick underneath the satin of your robes, feeling you shift and cry out in the way only you can. “Shall I have you cum all over my fingers, then? Give you just a taste of what I’ll do to you when you’re fully mine?”
“Oh, mngh y-you… please…” He kisses you as his fingers find your slit, gliding up and down and feeling that wetness just pour, moaning at the feeling, you’re damn near slippery with a gentle touch at your entrance, your tongue moving against his with much more precision than the first kiss.
“Please what, princess? Make you feel good?” Your nod is jerky, your nails pressing into his forearm and feeling it tense as he slides a finger in – making your eyes roll back in your skull. “You’re doing such a good job, look at you.”
“Am I? It’s so thick and… Satoru,” he’s curving one finger just so in your snug little hole, squishing so loud it fills your ears, mixing with his kisses on your collarbone, his nose brushing your skin. “Please!”
“Mhm, take a pretty tit out for me,” he orders softly, in the way only Prince Satoru can, you tug it down and blush when he sees your tit for the first time. “Oh god but you’re s’fuckin beautiful.”
Your answer is to arch your back, your head falling so that your hair cascades across his arm that’s wrapping you, his finger working as that mouth wraps a nipple and sucks. It is too much, the way he sucks, the way his finger moves faster, until you’re about to shatter, to fall apart right for him, his finger hitting that spot that has your vision getting fuzzy.
He moans around your nipple, tongue swirling it – his blue eyes looking up underneath those long white lashes at you, feeling your cunt stretch enough that he eases in a second.
“So full! I’m so… ah!” He pulls back from your nipple, his saliva dripping with strings dissolving from your tit, sighing and nuzzling your breast, kissing back up to your collarbone, his fingers making your cunt quiver. She clamps down as you get closer, feeling that pressure, the grinding of his fingers on that spot.
“You’re close, hmm?” He teases softly, smiling all proud of himself and fucking cute – he was proud he could make you feel good, that he could feel the way you’re reacting, see the pleasure on your face. “You’re so loud, your pussy is making such a mess, too.”
“You’re… I…” You feel it coming, overwhelming in its intensity then, stealing your breath as his fingers work faster, until you’re right there.
“That’s it, let go for me,” he whispers, pressing up on that spongy spot in your wall with his fingertips, massaging it as you shatter. “There you go, good little princess, cumming just for me.”
“Satoru, ngh!” You scream out obscenely, cunt squirting right down his hand and making a mess of his pants, of your silk robe, darkening the material as you fall apart in his arms, weak and almost falling on him. “S’good I… sensitive and… Satoru, I l-love you and…”
He pauses then, exhaling and kissing you deeply, easing his fingers out of the mess you are. “You love me, princess?”
You’re almost in tears. You feel so good, nodding quickly, watching as he sucks his long fingers, blushing furiously – your cunt is pulsing around nothing, seeing his cheeks hollow during the filthy little action. “You’re tasting me!”
“So sweet,” he mumbles, drunk off a lick, pulling back to see his fingers glossy and moaning at the sight, his eyes dark. “I can’t wait to really drink you.”
“Drink me?” He chuckles at how precious you are, tugging down your slip and holding you close, kissing your temple as you come down. “Satoru, that was so intense I just… I…”
“Are you all right? Too much?” He brushes your hair back, feeling your lips on his neck.
“Not enough.”
“Slutty princess,” you gasp and smack him when he chuckles, pulling back and cupping your chin, smiling at you. “I love you too.”
“You love me?”
“Of course I do, the moment I saw you in that garden,” you can’t stop the tears from falling, chest heaving as the aftershocks mix with your emotions. “Now don’t be so impatient, we have forever.”
You nod and kiss him again, and again, and again, until he carries you in his arms towards your bed. “I can’t wait to share the bed with you, my Prince.”
“Soon enough.” He lays you in it and kisses you, studying you carefully, brushing a lock of your hair back.
Satoru was only an eligible bachelor for one day – and now he has his happily ever after lightly snoring in her bed, murmuring his name.
Perhaps being the prince wasn’t so bad if he got you by his side.
would LOVE to see jack talking to robby about his newest hookup that's still in it's infancy ("you're looking smug; what, you finally get laid?" "like you wouldn't believe, brother") and robby taking the bait, asking for details, being non-the-wiser that it's ~you~
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˙⋆✮ JACK and ROBBY'S EX!READER are fucking... and jack can't help but glow upon his return to work after the first week of your and his arrangement. warnings include language, robby + (some) jack pov, attending!fem!reader, allusions to oral sex and ripping clothes
even though you're on nights now, you've been a sharp, blister-inducing thorn at every one of robby's upon your return to work. a reappearance that has plagued what was supposed to be a life without you, you were, and he doesn't even think about forgiving you for it.
at least he's got jack, who's mouth has been twisted into a repressed grin of smug and sure since he walked into ptmc. backpack slung on one shoulder while he walks to the lockers with an extra something sprinkled into his usual swagger.
robby catches him at the lockers. call it cliche because it is, but robby needs to know the dirt on why this man is, for lack of a better term, gleaming from the inside out with the air of a pleased, pleased man.
"you look…" post-coital. "like you had an entertaining week off."
the night shift attending just dips his head, shoving hands into pockets to tip up and down. his mouth forms something that one of the younger nurses reffered to as a meep (whatever the fuck that means), downtowrned at the corners to form a shape that reads unbothered.
"one could say that," jack nods again, giving nothing more.
alright. this seems good, so robby'll work for it.
"could one also say someone finally got laid?" robby tries and gets an instant answer of more happy silence from jack. "well, congratulations. the dry spell club is sad to see you go, but glad that you finally crawled your way out."
"feel like i should be crawling with the past couple days her and i had," jack rasps, lips finally curling into the fully-formed smirk whose corners you kissed all over less than an hour ago with your cherry-flavored lip balm while jack kneaded the cheeks of your ass.
"oh, wow," robby laughs, folding his arms to settle in. yes. jokes and innuendos. jokes and innuendos are just what he needs, 'cause soon you'll be here, and all things good will be nothing more than a distant memory. "took you for a ride, huh?"
"best'a my life," jack sniffs, crossing his own arms against his chest. "shit that we did made me feel i was damn near twenty again."
robby leans, taking the chance to live through jack for as long as the moment will let him. what he wouldn't give for a night like that. the questions he asks aren't that intrusive. this is just talk between friends, anyway, right?
"well, 'm happy for you, brother," robby finally sighs, resting the side of his face in his palm. truly, he was. a little jealous, but content to hear some dirty details on a part of his life that's whittled away into nothing. "sounds like you had enough fun for the both of us."
jack gives robby a pat on the arm as they start a walk back towards the nurses hub. "just gotta put yourself out there. that's the only way to get outta this funk you got goin' on… no offense."
robby's huff is interrupted as the two men turn the corner. he gets stuck in a painful rigidity of tight shoulders and tensed neck, nose wrinkling at an unwelcome sight–you. walking this way. in one of the new sets of scrubs hugging you and a stupid glow to your face.
certain if he looks any longer that he might actually puke, robby averts his eyes. they accidentally land on jack, who nods a simple hello your way.
"hey."
you nod back. keeping your pace and throwing back an easy greeting. completely ignoring robby.
"hey, abbot."
robby holds his breath until you're past them. jack licks at the inside of his mouth, nothing to say while his heart thudds at the hints of you that linger atop his tongue.
god, you tasted… 'divine' isn't even the right way to put it, jack thinks. he walks beside robby, who's gotten lost somewhere deep in his thoughts. jack rolls around in his own for a few, almost grunting at the memory of how you sound when you gag on his fingers… cock twitching at how fucked-out you still looked after waking up to him palming your belly from behind this morning… wondering what color panties you'd picked out to wear for tonight's shift.
it wouldn't be the blue ones, since he ripped those two days ago.
purple ones? the first pair you bought after signing the divorce papers, apparently.
"once a mom always a mom" is sooo perfect, you write so well. If possible can you write a scenario in 2nd pov again with reader, Leon and the kids going on a fun roadtrip and ofc everyone is clingy lol.
once a mom, always a mom
note- i actually love this request thank you so much, i was planning to just leave it there and just be a onetime thing but i might make this a series.. i also made them live in washington, d.c., it makes the most sense because that’s where the white house is yada yada this also tested my ability to write, i could not for the life of me figure out how to make them clingy on the ride there, so i made them clingy at the vacation spot :p hope that’s okay, ill rewrite it if i get a sense for what’s better.
w/c: 3k
no warnings, sfw, lowercase intended, 2nd pov
it was two weeks after leon’s mission back to raccoon city, and he was now officially retired. you and the kids— along with leon’s very little input, came up with the idea of going to the mountains.
you and leon lived in the city ever since before raccoon city, you guys simply couldn’t get away from the bustling life.
your kids, who would take any chance of leaving D.C, recommended a week in the mountains. now, leon refused to go to colorado again or rather anywhere in that area, so you guys settled for a simple cabin in blue ridge, georgia.
you and leon got to packing the porsche for you, leon, and your fifteen year old daughter— anastasia. you packed food and drinks while leon packed the trunk with the suitcases.
right now, you were preparing sandwiches in the kitchen for on the road. jonathan, your oldest, will have a mini cooler with him and so will your middle child, kaila. they decided to drive their own cars.
“mom,” you heard from your left, turning your head you see ana holding the cat in her arms.
“mama needs a cage.” she had finished, adjusting her hold on the cat as if she was a baby. you furrowed your brows, stating that you guys already had a cage waiting in the car.
apparently it wasn’t big enough according to her.
you sighed, placing down the knife that was spreading the mayo on the sandwich and went over to the closet placed in the hallway. your fifteen year old followed you the whole way.
you rummaged around a bit before finding the collapsed cage that was only a bit bigger than the one in the car, ana thanked you and went back to her room. you shook your head, heading to the door to place by so leon could take it back once he was down hauling their huge suitcase in the back of the car.
“mom!” you heard once again, this time from kaila.
“i can’t find my dress.” she said, sipping from her stanley as she leaned against the door way.
“why would you need a dress?” you and your son synced, he came from behind her and and decked him in the arm.
“mind your business freak.” your daughter said to her brother before respond to the same question you had asked.
“incase we go to a fancy restaurant or something, i want to be prepared.” she said, placing her cup down on the little side table by her and walking over to you. she wrapped her arms around your mid-section and hung her chin on your shoulder.
you sighed, telling her to check the laundry room to see if you had hung it up. she thanked you and made her way downstairs. you muttered under your breath and eyed your son, who was seemingly lingering around you.
making your way back to the sandwiches, it wasn’t hard to notice one was missing. you looked back to jonathan who was now messing around on his phone on the couch, his legs spewed everywhere— one hooked onto the backside and one hanging off the front.
you mentally groaned, thankful leon wasn’t in the house because he’d do the same thing.
speaking of leon, he comes into the house and immediately spots jonathan on the couch.
“jon, help your mother pack.” he said, shrugging off his jacket and placing it on the holder. a small groan escaped jonathan, but relented nonetheless because he got to help his mom.
jonathan packed sodas and waters while you finished up the sandwiches. you made bags, two sandwiches went into the mini coolers for both older children while six went into the bigger cooler you’d have in the porsche.
now, beforehand leon took the job of making sure everyone’s cars were fine for the drive, that nothing would happen to them. did their kids have grade luxury cars? no, but they definitely had a step right below it.
once everything was packed and everyone was ready to go, you said your byes to your two kids, who definitely hung onto you longer than they did leon. thankfully this time, they took turns.
sometimes you’d feel for leon, he wasn’t there as often and didn’t have much time to create a strong bond with them, but they always spent time nonetheless. jonathan gave leon a simple hug and a pat while you got a tight squeeze and a kiss on your cheek.
maybe that was just the roles of the mother and a father. or maybe it was just a guy thing.
it wasn’t even thirty minutes later that your kids decided they wanted to ride with you guys instead, so you and leon trekked back to the car to rearrange it.
“y’know, their coming with us for you.” leon said, picking up the cooler and stacking it in the back. he had sighed, taking a step back and looking at the little space they had in the trunk.
you had stepped beside him, wrapping a arm around his waist and resting her head on his shoulder. he planted a small kiss to your temple, something that was mandatory, something he had to do everyday.
by the time everyone was packed into the car, you realized it would be packed and tight. the kids didn’t care, they stuck out being squished by their siblings for the sake of their mom. the cat was in the cage underneath your feet? you just crisscrossed without issue.
your hand gripped leon’s as the car pulled out of the driveway, your lips brushed over each of his knuckles as you overhead the kids fighting about what room they were going to get.
thy didn’t know it yet, but the rooms were the exact same size for that reason. except for the master bedroom, that obviously went to leon and you.
wind whistled through the car as leon rolled all the windows down, your hair blew softly in all directions, but thankfully it was tamed down. music was playing, the kids were singing along gleefully, it was bliss.
from your side underneath your seat, you pulled a bag of drinks, a monster for leon, a simple sweat tea for you, water for your son, and dr. pepper for both of your daughters. a loud “thank you momma!” echoed through the car as the sound of carbon being released from the bottles were heard.
here came the first one, you heard your youngest getting your attention and handing you the soda once more.
“i can’t open it,” she said, looking at you with her lips pulled back, you simply shook your head and opened it for her.
it was now an hour in, your kids were quiet, the windows rolled back up as more mellowed music sung in the car. you and leon had casual conversation as your kids were sleeping. of course, you had to interrupt him with the occasional awe of your children sleeping on each other.
“it’s wild how attached they are, i mean, i was never that way with my mother.” you had talked lowly, looking to leon as he concentrated on the road.
“i can believe it, i mean look at you.” he said, and suddenly you became bashful as heat rose throughout your body.
“stop it.” you waved off before continuing your spiel.
“ever since we had jonathan i was so nervous they’re have some.. resentment to me, i never grew up with that sort of figure, neither did you.” you said, looking down at your nails and picking at them.
“hey.” he said, “i knew you were going to be great from the minute you told me you were pregnant with him, it was me who had to do all the characterization.” he held a small smirk on his face as you chuckled at that.
“seriously, though, your amazing at what you do.” he finished, bringing your still interlaced hands and stretching your fingers out so he can place a lingering kiss on each pad. eventually making it to your palm, his stubble had scratched your wrist.
you looked to him with such admiration, on the outside he looked like such a hard guy, but really he was the most commendable and compassionate man you had ever met in your lifetime. knowing you got to spend your whole life with him warmed your heart.
two hours in, and your daughters were awake again. you got a text on your phone from kaila asking if you had any snacks and to “please be quiet with it”. you texted her that it was all in the cooler in the back, and all you had up their was her fathers beef jerky.
you could hear her groan without her having the need. you felt her foot weirdly caress the back of your arm, thankfully she had socks on.
you quietly asked leon to pull over at a rest area so they could stretch their legs, and he agreed. 10 minutes later they pulled in and parked near the bathrooms and little center they had. you had got out of the car and opened the car door on the side jonathan was on, and you softly shook him awake.
“hey,” you whispered, “come use the bathroom and walk around a little.”
he swallowed and nodded, blinking as he took your shoulder and slowly got out of the car. you placed a hand on his back, rubbing it slowly as he rubbed his eyes before pulling his hood down to walk to the bathroom. no matter how old he was, you’d still baby him. you turned to see your daughters walk around the car to you, and anastasia and wrapped her arms around you and hung onto you for dear life. you rubbed her back as well, it was something that hardwired into you the minute you gave birth to jonathan.
you took your daughters hands from around you, bringing them in front of you and asking if she was okay. she just softly nodded and returned to leaning on you. you sighed into the hug contently and rubbed her shoulder, signaling to kaila to use the bathroom.
you looked down and smiled at her before walking her to the bathroom, despite her telling you she didn’t have to go, you told her to go anyway. it was a lookout, something you had gotten used to over the past years, learning from previous roadtrips they rarely took.
while you waited outside, you figured you’d get snacks from the vending machines for each of your kids. you got their favorites, and the minute they got out, they all rushed over and picked their snacks respectively for them. every thank you ended with a kiss on the cheek, and you let the kids flock around you for awhile.
once again on the road, you guys are now 6 hours away, it was 2 pm, and by that rate you’d get there at 8-8:30 pm.
the kids were all messing around on their phones, earbuds in or just straight distracted, you once again found yourself fiddling with leon’s hand.
“do you want to stop for the night at a hotel or make it all the way there?” you had asked in consideration of him driving all day. he waved you off, shaking his head softly. goodness, he was handsome.
the sun reflected through the trees into his golden-brown hair, his blue eyes seemingly brightening as the sun shined on them. his elbow of the arm that was steering was resting on the window seal of the door while his thunb of his other hand was caressing yours right now.
“there’s no point, we have a passcode, we don’t need to meet anyone.” he said, and you just simply nodded. raising the blanket you had taken for yourself to your shoulders, you looked out the window and slowly nodded off.
you were out for 2 hours, and those two hours were the quietist hours of his life. he didn’t know his kids could be so quiet.
no one wanted to disrupt their mother at all, once they saw she was sleeping, nobody said a word unless they had to. it was an unspoken rule throughout the car. the utmost respect they had for their mother was astonishing to leon, he didn’t know how much of these kids hearts you really held.
it was 4:37 by the time you woke up, and you guys were now off the highway and were taking the scenic route. leon glanced over at you as you looked to the back, all of your kids were passed out once again.
“morning, sunshine.” he said, throwing glances at you as you took the time to recalibrate yourself.
“how long do we have?” she asked, and leon looked at his maps.
“i shaved an hour off this way, we have two more hours left.” he said, and you internally groaned. there was only so many hours you could have your feet up to not disrupt the cat— who was peacefully sleeping still. you had simply nodded and indulged in conversation.
when you guys finally reached the cabin, it was 7:45, the kids got out expressing their excitement and ran to the cabin, punching in the code their father told them in advance. you simply shook your head in that tender love, rolling your eyes and eventually reaching leon on his side. leon already was holding the cats cage with one hand by the metal handle.
“let’s bring the luggage in later, go rest.” you said, hooking your arm in his and entering the cabin together. you let the cat out as soon as leon set the cage down so she could go sniff around. your kids were in the motion of claiming their territory, where their snacks went, what room they got, what fancy cup would be theirs, but they left the thoughtful things for you.
you got to choose where you sat on the couch, you got to pick your seat at the dinner table, you got to choose what movie they’d watch first tonight.
they did these things in regard to you, their love for you. you watched them bumble around in the kitchen, scouting out for anything. your heart ached in the motherly tendencies you had gained years ago, and you immediately went outside to the cooler. you pulled out the sandwiches you had made earlier— some were gone as you each ate one already, there were still some left over. the sandwiches were all smushed and were beginning to become soggy, you sighed realizing you would have to go out to get stuff to cook.
you hated driving leon’s porsche.
you sucked it up and headed inside to grab the keys, kissing and hugging everyone bye before looking up the nearest store and getting directions.
you decided on pasta night tonight, you would include homemade meatballs so leon could get the protein that he was starting to track once again. when you went to the store, you found yourself getting more than just dinner stuff.
you picked snacks that your kids liked, specific soda’s you’d seen them drink all the time, prep meals that leon would like when his freakish self went to the gym at 4 in the morning. it was a loving habit you had picked up during your years building up a family.
when you arrived home, you would’ve swore the T-virus came knocking at your door with how loud your kids were groaning at you that they were hungry. you sighed, not being able to hold out, you caved and made them bowls of their snacks you had just bought.
when you started cooking dinner when you first met leon, really any time you started cooking dinner at his place, you soon realized leon would steal everything. he would steal bland pasta noodles, meat that was cooked but not yet finished seasoning, soup that wasn’t even done yet, and especially breakfast once you got to portioning everything.
that man was a thief, and you soon learned to kick him out of the kitchen anytime he’d try to step a foot inline. he was horrible, you’d have him ask you or your kids to get him a drink with how bad he’d get. you’d turn to get a certain seasoning, he’d sneak and eat some, and by the time you found it and turned the dinner would be halfway gone.
when you started cooking in the cabin, you started out boiling the water in a large pot and dumped 1 and a half box’s of pasta. your middle child soon came to help, she would ask you what to do and you’d guide her carefully. it was a good time you guys spent together, tranquil.
when dinner was done and neatly presented, leon was out of the shower and the rest of your kids were rightfully starving. you made your plate first— rule of the house, and let everyone else get their share before you started eating. you had a tendency to check over everyone’s plates to see if they were eating enough, to your pleasure they all had more than enough.
jokes had started to be thrown around the table, topics of school— which your kids scoffed at, and job opportunities for jonathan, college for kaila, everyone happily finished their dinner with a “thank you” and went to sit down at the couches.
when you sat down, everyone gathered on the couch, leon sat beside you with you leaning on his chest and his arm around you, jonathan laid his head in your lap while anastasia sat on the ground in front of you guys and kaila sat down with her dad, cuddled up to him. watching the movie in the dark ambient setting had your thoughts going round and round, filling your head with airy lighthearted energy. your mind was focused on your family, how lucky you and leon were for them.
you would always find a way to your family.
combing your hands through jonathan’s blond hair, you smiled contently with leon and enjoyed the rest of your evening.
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