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distantdarlings · 3 months

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CHIME IN // t. nott

RATING: R / 2.1K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Reader Insert (No gender-specific details)

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* After being assigned to an assignment together, you and Theo begin to take an interest in each other. When the two of you finally get together, an interruption occurs right in the middle of it.

+ WARNINGS - IMPLIED SMUT! Making out, language, they start to have sex but don't actually get there, gender-neutral reader, Mattheo interrupts, dirty talking, not proof-read (lmk if I missed any)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Agora Hills - Doja Cat

---

It was close to midnight. That was about all you knew, though, as Theo slammed you against the wall just outside the boys’ dormitories.

He pressed his lips back against yours roughly, his tongue breaking through the barrier of your mouth quickly. You moaned against him at the sensation of him taking his full way with you.

“Ah-ah, baby, gotta stay quiet for me,” he mumbled against your lips. “You can scream for me once we’re back in my room.”

You gasped into his mouth as he slipped his hands around the curve of your ass and gripped hard.

You didn’t know what it was, but there was something about Theodore Nott that was just so intoxicating. You’d been watching him for months until today when you’d finally pursued him.

The two of you had been trying to sneak some late-night studying in the library, knowing that both of you had a huge project coming up due within the next week. As soon as you’d been paired with him for the project, you knew you had to have him. He was just so confidently sweet, and absolutely fucking gorgeous. He was just perfect.

And so, finally, tonight, you’d decided to make a move. The two of you had been huddled together side-by-side, searching through a very lengthy book on the history of the Disarming charm. The librarian was bound to come searching your area soon, so you were going as fast as possible.

His shoulders had been bumping yours, his thigh was pressed tightly against yours, his breath was hot on your neck, and his eyes were roving endlessly—up and down the pages of the book and perhaps even past it.

You weren’t exactly sure what had happened. The pulse hammering in your brain had practically beat all of the memory of the moment from your head, but you remembered him asking if you wanted to take the book back to his room, your agreeing, his eyes glancing at your lips, then the two of you were…well, here. The book had been all but forgotten back on the table at the library.

Your fingers curled into his honeyed hair, forcing him closer to you. He sighed against you, his body bracing you to the wall. His knee slipped between your thighs, his leg gently rubbing against your core. Another small moan left you.

“What if someone sees?” you gasped into him. He pressed another rough squeeze to your ass before pulling away. He grabbed your hand and began to yank you down the hall.

“We’re not supposed to be awake, remember? It’s likely nobody else is.” He gave you a sly smirk, his eyes flickering up and down your body. The way he looked at you made you feel as though you were being devoured alive. You could hardly stand it. Fuck whoever may see.

You pressed another demanding kiss to his lips, framing his face with your hands. He groaned into the kiss, his arms wrapping around your waist. The feeling of him holding you like he was was so refreshing. His enormous height positively dwarfed you.

“Patience, darling,” he said, pulling away again. “Back to the room.”

“I’ve no patience left, Theo,” you whined. “I’ve been waiting for months.” He began peppering rough kisses along your neck.

“Yeah, baby? Do you want me that bad? Bet this sweet thing is just dripping for me,” he growled against your flesh, cupping your core within his hand. Your eyes clenched, and your lips parted in a silent scream. You adored how dominant he was.

He pressed you to the wall again, his hand sliding behind your head to keep it from hitting the hard stone. Your lips were against his once more, biting and licking and sucking. There was something about him that made it seem impossible to let go of him. All you wanted was more, more, more.

Your arms slid around his neck, pulling him closer to you. His breaths were fanning over your face in short, fast huffs. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d taken a breath.

“Back to the room, darling,” he groaned against you, tearing his lips from yours. He grasped your hand tightly within his and pulled you toward his dormitory. Theo had promised all of his roommates were out for the night doing whatever, but you still felt a little nervous at the thought of one of his friends seeing the two of you. If anyone had paid attention to both of you while working on this project, they’d likely have been able to see the obvious sexual tension floating between you. Even if they hadn’t been paying attention, they could’ve seen it. Any time Theo was around, you became the definition of ‘flustered.’

As you reached the door to his dorm, you felt him swing you toward the entrance and push you through. You shuffled over the threshold, attempting to let your eyes adjust to the darkness surrounding you.

His hands gripped the sides of your face and pressed you back to his lips. Fuck, he tasted so good. Was it normal for someone to taste good? You didn’t know. You moaned into his mouth, shoving your hands against the buttons running down his shirt. Your shaking fingers made quick work of those pesky things—each one undone revealed more and more of his perfect chest.

You pressed your cold hands against his flesh, reveling in the biting groan that poured from his lips.

“Fuck, baby, on the bed,” he whispered fervently against your lips. He pushed you back against his bed. The backs of your thighs collided with the mattress, tipping your body over onto the soft comforters. You descended into mountains of green satin that smelled just like Theo. His scent overwhelmed your senses, pushing your conscience even further to the back of your mind. Your finger gripped the material of his blankets.

Your lidded eyes found his as he got to work on his clothing, the way he stood above you reminiscent of a god. Your legs parted slowly, preparing for the weight that would soon settle between them.

“You ready for me, baby?” he breathed, yanking his shirt over his shoulders. You bit your lips at the full picture of his bare abdomen glaring back at you. The hard muscle rippling over his stomach caught each glimpse of the moonlight above you. You nodded pathetically, your legs bending at the knee. You didn’t want to wait any longer. All you wanted was him.

“Say it for me,” he commanded, slipping his fingers along his belt. “I want to hear it. Tell me exactly what you want.”

“I want you, Teddy, so bad,” you whined, feeling the heat building between your thighs. “I want to feel you over me—want to feel you make me all yours.”

“All mine, baby?” he asked, smirking widely. His belt popped open, showing off the large bulge beneath his dark briefs. You gulped at the sight, bracing yourself against his bed. He was bigger than you had anticipated—bigger than anyone you’d had before, that was for sure.

He dropped himself onto the bed at your feet, pressing his muscular arms on either side of you. The added weight to the mattress tipped your body toward his as he slowly inched up the length of it. His knees slid along the slick duvet until one came to rest beneath your legs. It inched yours farther apart, claiming him a verified spot within you. Your head rolled back at the intoxicating display of dominance.

At the movement, he quickly slid his face in between your shoulder and jawline, pressing rough kisses along the flesh there. If he weren’t careful, he’d leave marks, though you figured that’s what his goal was. His teeth cut along your throat, painting you with his claim. You now belonged to him, and the whole school would know that soon. What belonged to Theodore Nott was not challenged.

“Theo, baby,” you whined. He hummed against your neck, asking what you needed. “I need you right now.”

“Yeah, sweetheart? I’ve got you,” he said, his hot breath fanning across your clothed chest. His fingers slipped down between the slit of your shirt, caressing against your pulse point. You shuddered at the feeling, barely able to take a deep breath.

“Fuck, I’ve been thinking about this for months,” he groaned, his voice nearing a growl, as he ripped your shirt apart. You couldn’t force yourself to make a comment on him tearing your uniform. All you could think about right now was feeling him within you.

He gripped the waistband of your bottoms and tore them down your legs with the same intensity as your shirt. You whined at the aggressive loss of your clothing, the cold air hitting your bare flesh like water.

Once you were bare before him, his lips quickly replaced the absence of heat along your skin. His tongue painted every part of you, starting from the bottom of your stomach to the top of your chest. His mouth was mean and aggressive, bruising you as much as he could. You gasped at his rough sex.

“Ever been with a Slytherin before?” he smirked, his fingers hooking slowly beneath the band of your underwear. You sighed aloud at the sensation.

“You’re the first,” you responded breathlessly. He chuckled darkly as he pressed a rough kiss to your hipbone when he pulled your underwear to your knees. He moaned aloud at the reveal of your entire body.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he whined, his hand slipping beneath the split of his pants. You braced yourself for what was soon to come.

The air in the room was hot and smelled of Theo. The pale light that spilled through the window in the corner illuminated the gorgeous body before you with each new inch that was revealed. His hands slid his pants down his hips. Strong legs kept yours pressed apart. Your hands reached out, begging to feel his bare flesh against yours. He laughed mockingly.

“Perfect, desperate baby….” His hands gently pressed his hot core against the inside of your thigh. You gasped sharply at the sensation, knowing he was soon to tear your body apart. Your hands tangled in the sheets, your eyes clenched shut, your lips parted, your words needy and begging. The tip of him touched against your entrance—

“I’m guessing you guys need the room to yourself?”

You and Theo screamed at the sudden words. The two of you shot up from your current positions before realizing your unfortunate nudity. Theo pushed you back down amongst the sheets and collapsed next to you. He yanked the comforters over you.

Mattheo Riddle was set comfortably in the bed just opposite Theo’s. He wore a soft gray tee shirt and unkempt hair. He was settled beneath the covers with a book in hand and a small threaded bookmark slipped between the pages. It looked as if the two of you had just interrupted a sort of peaceful moment for him.

“What the hell, man?” Theo demanded, his tone becoming quite angry. You clenched the satin blankets over you, trying to keep your head as tucked as possible. You didn’t really want Mattheo Riddle to see you like this. “Why the fuck wouldn’t you say something?”

“I’m sorry. When was I supposed to make a mention that I was here? Was that before or after you asked them if they’d ever had Slytherin dick?” he asked. Smart-ass. You giggled a bit at his comment. Theo glanced at you with an annoyed expression. You stopped, whispering a brief apology, yet unable to drop the smile on your lips. To be fair, Mattheo had made a good point. In the midst of your…movement with Theo, there hadn’t really been a good time for him to chime in.

“Whatever, man,” Theo sighed and rolled his eyes. No one spoke for a moment.

“So, did you want me to go or…?”

“Yes!” The both of you agreed aloud. The dark-haired boy nodded his head and, collecting his books and other various items, made his way toward the door.

Just before he exited, he paused and turned toward you. Theo seemed to be avoiding eye contact with him, but you looked straight at him. His dark eyes traveled over you briefly.

“Well, when you’re done with him and you’d like some real Slytherin dick—”

“Riddle, get the fuck out!” Theo shouted, sending a pillow hurtling towards him. With an evil laugh, Mattheo quickly dodged the flying object and slipped through the dormitory door. Theo groaned and pressed his fingers to his face.

“Use protection!”

*Tag List: @mypolicemanharryyy, @angelfrombeneth, @clairesjointshurt, @bunbunbl0gs, @acornacreacure, @thestarlithideout, @sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw, @yhiiil, @ravenclawprincess33, @xxrougefangxx, @thatblackthorn, @robinyx (If you would like to be added to the tag list for any future works, please comment on this post, dm me, or send me a message in my inbox. Thanks!)

#fanfiction #creative writing #fanfic #writing #reader insert #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #oneshot #slytherin #harry potter smut #gender neutral insert #theo nott #theodore nott #smut #mattheo riddle

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delugguk · 1 year

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how bad?

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: smut, fluff

word count: 763

summary: jungkook is leaving for qatar but he wanted something before he leaves.

a/n: I think y'all know already.. also, hiiiiiiiii this is my pre-comeback? (It isn't the official) but I've been wanting to upload something while I'm fixing some stuff. I MISS YOU. like you don't have idea and I miss being here and I hate saying things and then disappearing but ughghgh I promise I'll fix that bc I want it too. - but anyways, I don't want to make this longer and this is something I quickly wrote so if there's any typos (sorryyy) bc this is also unedited. with nothing more to say, ENJOY! and I hope you like it <3.

"gonna miss me?"

"fuck. m'gonna miss you."

"how bad?"

Jungkook was going to Qatar. Job stuff. legendary things are coming for him and you couldn't be more proud but right now.. he was fucking you goodbye. - he wasn't leaving for months but his schedule has been low-key tight, he's been rehearsing so much, perfectioning his acting, singing and presence so much. he's been working really hard.

it's not that you two don't have time because you literally fucked 4 days ago, but jungkook said he wasn't leaving for many days without having to feel you one more time. something about him feeling your touch fresh into his skin and memory while he's away. facetiming exist, but you both know is not the same.

so that's why he's now man-handling your hips on his dick while he teases you with questions even though he sounds very out of breath but god, isn't him so stupidly hot right now.

..and always.

"mmhg so badly." you sound out of breath too.

his dick is so thick, so rich. there's a small but very notorious transparent fluid decorating his dick of proof of just how good he's making you feel and by the way his eyes gazes at you right now.. even his slight rosy cheeks..

sigh. was he really a sight.

"wish you could come with me." he deeply moans against your neck very close to your ear when you rest your head on his left shoulder. hips moving on its own but he squeezes your ass to stop. "mmhg come here baby."

and he man-handles you once again. ass up, back slightly arched when he places you back to the sofa and his dick enters you again.

"mhg" moaning, you lean your head down when he closes both your legs to feel more pleasure and he's fucking you so slow now, all you can hear is him, breathing - along side the sound of liquids moving on all places.

"god. gonna miss this pussy." whispering a little in between teeth. "can't believe this is all because of me." he hardly bites his lips.

for some reason.. hearing him say that, made you more turned on. he noticed though - you squeezed your walls a little.

it made him smirk.

one hand caresses your ass-cheek when he slaps it and you don't know how to stop getting wet for this.

"fucking greedy for me, hm?"

you start pushing your hips back, currently biting your lips. he always gives it to you good. "always".

"Is that so?"

"eungg"

and for a moment he just places both his hands behind his waist to watch your ass move back at him, vagina swallowing whole. "so fucking hot." and he just smiles looking at it as if he was proud of you for taking him so well.

"my pretty girl." softly smiling, you don't know but there's a tiny but notable cockiness in him. - he grabs your waist. "isn't it time for me to fuck you right?"

with that being said, he goes for your previous position. on top of him, he stabilizes your hips just so you can't move when he thrust rapidly into you.

"fuck!" pushing your body at his side, your boobs are bouncing so much as you try to keep your body still with your hands resting beside his face. holding the sofa instead.

"yeah baby. so good, hm?" he's gone.

and so it happens for the rest of the night. It's wild.

but so good.

"have a nice flight babe, I'll be watching you from afar like always."

"but that's only when I'm away though." he hugs you. "you know I rather keeping you close." kissing your cheek at the front door of his/your apartment.

smiling, "you know me too." kissing his lips. "you looks very pretty today."

"so are you," he spins you around like a princess. "look at you!"

lightly punching his shoulder, "stop," you giggle in between. "now.. come on. you'll be late."

"won't you come with me?"

you stare confusely at him.

he corrects himself. "I mean, on the car.." he rambles, "my departure. me, leaving. me-"

"yeah, yeah, I understand." you laugh, making him too. "If you're good with that-"

"you know I am." he 'obviously' says.

You smile. "let's go then. It'll be one more time kiss."

"one of the many though. It could lead to more but, you know." he jokes.

"yeah, whatever" you playfully roll your eyes when you finally step outside.

he extends his hand for your to grab when he follows. finally closing the door, "let's go."

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teyamsatan · 10 months

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ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕍𝕀𝕀: 𝕄𝕒𝕪𝕓𝕖 𝕎𝕖'𝕧𝕖 ℍ𝕒𝕕 𝔼𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙

Pairing: Neteyam x (f)Omaticaya!Reader

synopsis: You and Neteyam finally confront each other, after a seven year war that left you broken and bruised.

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, aged-up! Neteyam/Reader, enemies-to-lovers, angst (mentions of violence, battle, blood, death, confrontation, admission of feelings), smut, strong language.

wc: 7k words

a/n: we're almost at the end, besties. i want to say a massive thank you for being patient with me, i have struggled with writer's block for a while now, and my life is incredibly hectic at the moment, but thank you for continuing to inspire me to write this story that has come to mean so much to me :(. i hope you enjoy this chapter, that i once again somehow feel weirdly insecure about hahaha, and i hope you'll find it was worth the wait. also this is only mildly proof read bc i am exhausted and i need to sleep ;((( i'll come back to it in the morning i promise x (also pls someone comment on the fact in the photo vi's looking up and he's looking down cause you know - rise and fall together and all)

pls don't forget to leave a comment or a reblog and tell me your thoughts, i loveee to hear from you so much!

na'vi compendium: txepvi - spark, oare - moon, nawm - great, syä - bitter, tanhì - bioluminescent freckle, tewng - loincloth, tsakarem - tsa'hik in training, yawne - beloved

: ̗̀➛ previous chapter (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series playlist (x)

I carved my name into your ribcage We talked of lands away from this cage

"Dad always talks about Earth as if it was a dying hole, but... I don't know."

Neteyam's head was positioned snugly in your lap as you both stared intently at the sky, trying to make sense of the shapes of clouds, and the way they passed you by like birds in the night sky, never to be seen again, just a memento of the present and how every moment was unique and precious, and needed to be cherished. You both loved doing that, in between practice sessions, or before, or after, a way to ground you and remind you there's still beauty in this world outside of what you were being taught, of how everything was in preparation for a grisly reality you both struggled to come to terms with.

"Yes?"

"The little videos we've seen, of the movies and shows Norm and Max and the other humans like to watch... and the books they make us read during English lessons and the music... it doesn't seem that bad, you know? It seems they were happy, and... good. It seemed they lived for more than just fighting and greed, more than this."

You thought about it for a while. He was right. Humans were... beautiful, in their own ways. They had love and heart and soul in a way you never thought possible - it seemed there was always beauty to be found even in the darkest of corners, even in the most unsightly of places, and that gave you hope.

"I want to be more than this, too."

Your eyes snapped from the sky to him, and his eyes met yours, boring into you with a vehemence that almost scared you. When he rose from his spot, he faced you, his face so close to yours you could feel his breath fanning over you, and your heart stumbled in your chest at the proximity and the way his smile always managed to take your breath away.

"I want to know more than this. I will learn, and I will work hard, and I will fight, but Vi, one day, you and me, we'll be free of this. Free to do whatever we want, free to spend our days like the humans in the movies, just happy and ourselves. Wouldn't you like that?"

"Yes. I'd like that."

You said, don't fret love, someday I'll be my own man, I'll be free Oh, but darling, did you mean Darling, did you mean free from me?

“O’i’en…” your voice was hoarse and barely there, a croaking whisper you hardly recognised as your own, but still there. You were still here, and at least for that, you were grateful. Because there was more to your life. So much more you wanted to do and see, so much you felt you were made for and deserved, so much you still have to repent and atone for. Your mind was scrambled with visions of your past, so many of them you’ve lost count, the continuous onslaught barely ceasing as you woke, and you still felt like in a liminal state of being, not quite dead, but not quite alive, either. In those dreams, images of your old Neteyam were intertwined with his face now, much colder, much wiser, somehow even more beautiful, and confessions of “I love you” mingled with hushed whispers of “why is she not awake yet?” and commotion beyond your understanding. You needed answers. The battle, that now felt like a lifetime away to you, also somehow felt like it had just finished, and you rose from your spot with only one thought in mind: Oare was hurt. She was shot, and you needed to find her.

You wondered if it was fate, or Eywa's doing, that O'i'en was the first person you ran into, even as you were trying to avoid any semblance of another soul, the guilt and sadness mingling in you with flashes of worst-case scenarios, ones in which your distracted mind led to deaths that you will forever carry on your shoulders, that you will forever blame yourself for, that you were sure other people would, too, ones which you were too scared to prove and too spent to disprove, so you settled for ignorance and denial, at least until you found your ikran.

"Oh, Eywa, you're alive!" you were taken aback by his surprise, and by his pure, unadulterated relief and happiness as his eyes found your form, limping and bruised, with bloodied and torn garments and yet still... alive. You didn’t think O’i’en would ever want to see you again, much less acknowledge you or talk to you, but here he was, running, as much as he could, the gash in his leg preventing him from any true momentum, but still, he ran to you and enveloped you in a big hug, that you couldn’t help but reciprocate, melting into his all-too-familiar touch that’s always felt comforting and safe, and never bruising or cold.

You sighed as your mind, much as it always did, brought to its forefront another face, another body, another man that never ceased to pull you out of the moment and into whatever fantasy your mind concocted to replace reality with. As you tightened your arms around him, your palms flat against his back, you noticed your fingers being coated in warm liquid, and the feel of it, as well as the smell of metal that hit you immediately after, made you gasp and break the embrace, using whatever force you had to turn him around and inspect the wound you knew had to be bad enough, if so much blood was pouring out of it, but still couldn’t help be shocked when you were proven right.

“Fuck, your back…”

“I know… I haven’t had the chance to go see the healers yet.”

“You haven’t ha- are you serious right now? Come, let’s go now.” You almost forgot about the your plan to avoid people, too concerned for the ugly looking gash pulsating blood that trickled down his toned back, until it soaked in his soiled tewng. He didn’t let you move him, instead taking your wrists in his hand and holding you still.

“You look like you’re about to collapse, how are you still so bossy? Besides… there’s people who need it more than me.” The purple twinge in his cheeks let you know this wasn’t quite the truth. Not the whole truth. O’i’en was the most selfless person you’ve ever met, and yet, this wasn’t the whole truth. You looked tired and broken, scared and forlorn, and yet, with all your might, you tried to contort your face into something you hoped resembled the way Jake would raise the hairs above his eyes in a clearly disapproving expression, and while you lacked the most important aspect of that whole stare, it clearly worked, because he winced and broke the look you shared, choosing a spot on the ground instead.

“After… everything, I just didn’t know if I could…or should… go get help from the Tsa’hik. It feels like everywhere I look, you follow. I knew you were hurt as well, and I didn’t know if I could handle seeing you like that, or seeing you at all. But now that you’re here, I realise… I’m just happy you’re alive.”

You smiled, a small feat that felt like the hardest task you’ve ever been assigned, but still, you were glad to know there was still something salvageable about your relationship with the man you once thought you’d spent the rest of your life with.

“Come, sit. I’ll clean the wound myself.”

“You shouldn’t-“ He stopped when he noticed your look. You were too tired to be trifled with, and he was smart enough to know that.

You promised home, the kind I'd never known But here we are, skin and flesh and beating hearts And I'm wondering what the hell I'm doing wrong

You worked in silence, as much as you could, the thoughts spiralling in your head, worse with each passing second, and although you didn’t want to ask, you knew you couldn’t avoid it any longer, not when he looked so sad and despondent, not when the gash in his back spoke to a battle fiercer than you wanted to picture, not when you couldn’t help wonder if it was all on you. With a sigh, you spoke, and watched as he went rigid with every word uttered.

“What happened, O’i’en?”

“What do you remember?”

“Nothing. I remember falling… i remember Oare getting shot.” You wince at the memory, at how it was your unsteady, tired, distracted mind that made her a vulnerable target.

“Nothing else.”

O'i'en's whole body stiffened, and your hand stilled midair, shivers pulsating in your body as dread enveloped it.

“What. Happened. O’i’en?”

"After you fell... the battle... took a turn for the worse. A lot of Na'vi died, a lot of our mounts died, too..."

"The Olo'eyktan and Tsakarem tried their best, we all did, but without you and Neteyam..."

The guilt that was big enough to almost crumble you into a mess of sobs and broken shards on the ground dulled just for a moment while his words rang in your ears, echoing until they clicked, until you made sense of their meaning.

"Neteyam...? Where was Neteyam, why wasn't he fighting?"

His body turns to face you again, his barely patched-up wound forgotten in the moment that felt ever-lasting, but not like how time stands still as you're enveloped in a kiss, but like a nightmare you can't escape from, where a moment lasts hours, where every scream is expelled in slow-motion and the monsters get closer and closer with each breath that gets lodged in your dry, hoarse throat.

"He tried to catch you, but couldn't. I think he took you back to the village. He didn't return after. They say..."

"They say he hasn't left your tent since. We've all been working, trying to get everyone back, ready for the funeral, but he... he never left the Tsa'hik's tent."

"You're wrong." What he was saying made no sense. Neteyam has done nothing but wish for your demise ever since you were both nothing more than mere children. His hatred never diminished through time, and neither did yours. You both despised each other more and more each day, with every year passed, with every instance in which neither of you relented or found it in you to be better and take the high road. This whole ordeal, this whole nightmare that only started when you woke up, it was his fault. The fact that so many people died, that you were in this state, that Oare.... fuck. Oare.

“Where are you going? You need to take it easy.”

“I need to find her. I need to make sure she’s ok, she’s probably in pain and suffering and I should be the-“

You stop when you notice his grieving grimace, his eyes fixed on the ground, tears falling at his feet, that you followed from his eyes to their demise as they splattered on the ground, the droplets hitting your ankles in the process.

“No.”

Silence. Dead silence. Death silence. Silence that you couldn’t help fill with a crescendo of denial, louder and higher pitched with every new attempt.

“No, please. Tell me you’re wrong.”

“I saw her… in the lineup.”

“The lineup?”

“Of all the dead… dead animals and na’vi. So many of them, i lost count. She was there… I’m so sorry.”

Your tears mingled with his own as they collapsed on your feet and on the grass, and you forgot for a second of your rule - no crying in front of people. You forgot this as you forgot everything else, even your own name pushed from your memory as it was flooded instead with images of her, of your sister, that you loved so much, that you cherished deeply, that you thought you’d be able to for the rest of your life, that you were now told was gone, taken from you, in spite of you… because of you.

“No…Oare, no…”

“She’s with Eywa now… I’m so sorry.”

You said, "Let's make ourselves our very own brigade, this love our shield, our blade" Oh, but darling do you see the cuts from which I bleed? It's me you've slain

"Have you seen her? Have you seen syä?"

"What do you mean, Lo'ak?"

"She's gone, bro. She's not in grandmother's tent anymore."

Neteyam felt the blood drain from his face and settle at the soles of his feet, trickling through and into the ground, until he was so empty he felt faint, he felt like he would never be the same again. So many emotions tried him, from ecstatic relief that he couldn’t even explain to himself, at the fact that you were awake, and well enough to walk, to paralysing fear that overwhelmed him, at the fact you were out in your state, that you were gone Eywa knows where, at the fact he’s now going to have to face you and talk to you.

Too many things have changed in such a short amount of time, so many things he couldn’t make sense of or understand, too many revelations and the possibility of more, of the truth, that Neteyam dreaded. A lose-lose situation, his dad would call it - either he confronted you and you told him his father misunderstood, that it wasn’t true, that you too loved him the way he loved you, which meant the last seven years of both your lives, everything you have put each other through would have been for nothing, or his father was right, and having a confirmation of your lack of feelings, which is what he thought fuelled your actions all these years, which was a truth he avoided knowing for a fact for so long, and that might be too hard to bear after all.

“We have to find her, grandma said she shouldn’t be walking around.”

“I know where she is.”

He’s always known where you were when you wanted to be alone. He’s always known because it’s a place that used to be his, his secret spot, his uncharted paradise. A place that he showed to you when you were both children, and that became a safe heaven for the both of you in time, that you took from him after your unfortunate fallout. Just one more thing you ended up taking from him in time. He couldn’t have returned to this place anyway, not with all the memories of you that plagued it, that might as well have been enclosed in a room stuck in a past that he never wanted to revisit.

It took him no time at all to find you, his mind disassociating from the walk, until it was like he blinked and he was there, in the clearing that he dreaded coming to, where the last time he came, he took it too far, the memory of the words that you spat at each other, the way his anger physically manifested itself for the first time in his life, the way he lost control of his emotions and his temper, it was all so ugly and unsightly, it hurt him even thinking about it.

Your back was turned to him as you lay on the edge of the lake, one leg dangling mindlessly in the water, and Neteyam’s heart dropped to his stomach at the sight of you - your hunched shoulders, so far removed from the awe-inspiring, empowered stance you normally displayed to people. Your tail was thrashing furiously from side to side, ears pushed flat against your head that rested on your bent knee, braided hair tousled and unkept as it fell over your face, shielding you from view. Neteyam didn’t even know whether he should speak - if there was still a voice in his throat that could push sounds out, and as he tried, he heard nothing, the only sound in his ears one of muffled, panted breaths and thunderous, erratic heartbeats, that somehow drowned everything else out.

"Leave."

Neteyam ignored your words, all of his senses focused on your voice, on the sniffles that accompanied it, and what they represented. Neteyam has seen you cry only a couple times in all the time he's known you, and not once since your fallout. He was sure you would have rather swallowed a poisoned knife's blade than show weakness in front of him. He gulped audibly when he realised that if you did, that means you knew... if you did, there was no escaping the wrath that was currently embedded in your soul, that he wasn't sure would ever leave you again.

“Why are you here? You should be resting.”

He heard you scoff, bitterness laced through your voice that normally was sweet as a yovo fruit on a summer day, that now felt spoilt, like it had been left rotting on the ground, with no one the wiser.

“Since when do you care about my wellbeing, huh? Last thing I knew I could be dead in a ditch and you’d probably throw a party and dance over my grave. Leave me be, I don't want to deal with you right now.”

"Txepvi... Just co-"

"Don't you dare call me that. You have long forsaken the right to call me that. Just fucking leave, Neteyam."

He felt anger pricking at him like a dagger he was all too familiar with, that was dull and middling, but whose sting still hurt if pushed into his skin at the correct angle, in the right spot, where he was weak.

"I'm not leaving until you get back to the tent. Tsa'hik's orders." That was a lie, but one he felt at liberty to make, since it was quite certain his grandmother would want you back resting, and not galavanting in the woods, with a wound that almost killed you, that made you easy prey for the apex predators lurking in the thick foliage.

I didn't obliterate these walls for you to come and raid my home And here you are right next to me Ironically, I've never felt more alone

“Why did you stay with me?”

Whatever anger he had immediately dissipated like droplets water of a hot day, replaced by the same fear that was plaguing him early, that not even the adrenaline coursing through his veins could overpower. What was he supposed to say? It's not like he had an answer to give you - he couldn't even conceptualise it for himself, much less put it into words that would make sense, that would ever satisfy your morbid curiosity.

“Answer me, Neteyam.”

“I don’t know.”

You rose from your spot on the edge of the lake, and when you turned to face him and your eyes locked, his breath lodged in his throat. You looked anguished, sadder than he's ever seen you, puffy eyes so red, it scared him, cheeks purple and stained, and swollen, wet lips opened to accommodate the heaved breaths and quiet sobs that you tried your hardest to push down, so that he wouldn't see.

It was too late, now. He could see. He could see it all, and it scared him, what you were doing to him, these feelings that were rushing down with enough force to make him buckle under their weight, just like a waterfall that crashed into the river below, warping it with its power.

“No, we’re not doing this shit anymore. My ikran is dead. People are dead, Neteyam. All because of us, because this stupid war, that you caused. That you started. I’m done with the games, and the mystery, and your stupid mouth staying shut. You don’t know? Figure it out. Now.”

I fell for you faster than I fell apart And I guess I'm the one to blame for letting myself fall too hard

"I don't fucking know, OK? I just needed to - fuck. I needed to make sure you'll live."

"Why?! Why the fuck would you care if I live or die? Why? You haven't cared for more than half our lives, and now, when you would have been more useful on the battlefield, when you could have prevented this mess that you caused to begin with, now you want to play the fucking hero?"

“That I started? Are you hearing yourself right now? I wasn’t the one that pushed, and pushed, and pushed until whatever thread it was that still bound us together turned from wool to steel and snapped, yawne. You made it your life purpose to ruin mine, at every turn, in every way imaginable, for years. I did nothing to you, damn it. I just stopped talking to you. I didn’t hurt you, or purposefully tried to make you ache or suffer, I tried to keep my mouth shut and go about my life, without infringing on yours. I didn’t do anything to hurt you, for fuck’s sa-“

“You keeping your mouth shut and going about your life as if your life wasn’t impermeably connected to mine was what fucking hurt me, Neteyam! You saying nothing, doing nothing, acting like I didn’t exist, like I was just a toy you outgrew, that was worse than anything I could have ever fucking done to you, don’t you understand that? Do you understand that you abandoned me? Me, Neteyam, the person who was always there for you, the person who always had your back. Your best friend, your confidant, your training buddy, your sister. I was everything to you, and you just acted like that meant nothing at all."

"It meant everything! And my father fucking ruined it, and you ruined it. You ruined it, and I'll never, ever forgive you." the intensity behind his eyes, glistening with unshed tears that reflected the rays of the sun hitting his golden irises, the ones that put stars to shame and brought you to your knees, scared you. You came here to cry, and let it out. You came here to mourn. You didn't expect this. Didn't want this. But, for the first time in years, Neteyam was talking to you. Neteyam was telling you truths buried deep within his soul, deep behind walls you've tried to climb and pierce through longer than you wanted to admit to, and given the little crack of light you saw shine through, you knew you couldn't let this opportunity pass you by.

"What do you mean?"

He looked tired, you realised faintly. It was true... he did stay with you. His face was sunken and caved in, dark purple bags under his eyes, and you traced the tears that brightened his tanhì momentarily, as they caressed his skin, before falling down his neck.

"Tell me it's not true, what you said to him all those years ago. Tell me he didn't hear you right. That he misunderstood."

"Who?"

"My dad. I heard him... telling my grandmother that you'd never want to mate with me. Or be Tsa'hik. He said you said that. Tell me he was wrong. Tell me I was wrong for believing him. Tell me I was an idiot for not coming to you sooner, for shutting you out of my life. For letting this break me. Please."

Shock stilled you in your spot, replacing blood with current that electrified every ounce of your being. What? After all this time, so much time that kids were born and grew up, time in which you watched Tuk go from barely a babe to a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, beautiful girl, time in which you gained and lost your ikran, in which you gained a family and lost the future you thought you were always made for, next to the person you thought you'd always have your back... so much time has passed, and to hear it, the reason, was so unbelievable it didn't feel like it was real. You thought about the conversation that he was referring to, that you had with Jake in what feels like a completely life to the one you were currently living. He did ask you, and you did say...

"He wasn't wrong."

I ripped my heart out and put it in your hands in hopes that we'd put up a fight How paradoxical, since now all I can think about is when will we stop trying

You watched as the intensity on his face was decimated in an instant, his eyes blank and distant as all life seemed to drain from them as you spoke words that you spat without truly even thinking about it. Oare's death, still so fresh in your mind, hurt so much, made every fibre of your being scream in agony, and this new revelation, of the reason of her death being attributed to something you said as a little kid in passing, that he overheard and never bothered to fact-check, made what little sanity you had left to evaporate and what remained was a bitter precipitate of fury and pain, that you wanted him to feel, that you needed to inflict.

"This is why Oare's dead? This is why so many people are dead, because of one comment I made to your father seven years ago in passing? Are you fucking kidding me?"

Your teeth were bared as you spoke, and the emptiness behind his eyes was replaced with furious anger as he listened, as he realised you had no intention of putting his mind or heart at ease, as you realised he didn't deserve it. Not after everything that's happened, not after the way your soul crashed and imploded inside your body at the guilt that ate you alive, that churned and ground your bones into fine dust, guilt that will never, ever leave you.

“I was just a fucking child, don’t you understand that? Do you understand how insane it is to punish me for something that happened when I was just twelve years old?!"

“Well, you know what? I was also just twelve years old! And I loved you, Vi.” The break in his voice hurt you, like a shard of glass plunged in the soft of your skin, and you looked down to try to see if blood was coming out of the wound that wasn't there. There was nothing. Just emptiness, like the vast chasm that separated you, that always will, no matter the fact he was so close to you, you could feel his breath over your face, your scent in your nostrils, his glistening eyes big as planets, eyes you could get lost in easily, you could fall into as easily as falling asleep.

Seeing the unshed tears once more made tears gather in your own. The nickname, that you haven’t heard in all these years, that felt like a relic from a life long forgotten, long forsaken, knocked the air out of you, just as much as his vulnerability, that you weren’t used to seeing anymore did.

“I fucking loved you. You were everything to me. And you broke me.”

“I had to watch you prove me right every day of my life. Watched as you fought every day to push me away from my own family, and my own dad, who obviously always found you better than me. Watched as you moved on, with no issue, and dated Na’vi after Na’vi, letting them touch you and kiss you, knowing I could see it, in practice, where I always was, I- “

“You fucking did the same thing! You pushed me away, you never talked to me. You abandoned me, without as much as a goodbye. Without any explanation. You fucked girls anywhere I could see, behind my tent, so I could hear you. You chose them all so they bore no resemblance to me, so I could know how much you hated me, every time I saw their faces. You ruined my relationship with the one person who loved me, who was good for me. You fu-"

All you do is blindside me, it's hard to be brave But when the night cuts into the day, it's your love I crave I must've thanked my lucky stars too much They left me sitting in too much dust

Your sentence was cut short by a pair of lips crashing into yours, soft and desperate, clinging on to you like his fingers were wrapped tightly around your throat, like if letting go was unimaginable, like it was too painful to envision. In your dreams, Neteyam's lips were bruising and calloused and cold, and no matter how fiercely you wanted to protest, no matter how much you hated yourself for it, they were the only lips you ever dreamt about. And yet right now, they were nothing like you imagined, nothing like you feared, and despite the hurt, and the pain and the anguish and the anger, despite it all, you couldn't help reciprocating, couldn't help the moan the left you as his other hand found your hips, holding you impossibly closer, while your own hands found the back of his neck and his hair, that you tugged on until he growled. When he broke the kiss and looked at you, hunger and ache clear in his bright eyes, that looked more black than yellow as his hand found your jaw, that he lifted to tilt your head back, pushing his thumb past your lips so you'd keep quiet, you let out a small whimper, and watched as his pupils dilated even more, almost overtaking his beautiful, molten irises.

"Just...Stop talking."

His lips found the place on your jaw where his fingers just were, and the feeling of him on you burned like molten lava, and you push your head back, giving him access to all of you. Your mind felt numb - a battle within itself as it was trying to come to terms with all the crushing emotions that were fighting for dominion over your thoughts and your soul, each one more devastating than the last - from the guilt that you knew would plague you for the rest of your life, that you didn’t think you’d ever be able to overcome, to the grief of losing your spirit sister, to confusion over what you were doing, over wondering if this was a mistake, to the sadness at Neteyam’s confession and the knowledge he loved you, and you pushed him away without meaning to, to earth-shattering anger at the realisation that this whole ordeal started over nothing and could have been solved if he only ever talked to you and finally, to the hatred that still blossomed, even after all this time, and finally, the desire, pure, unadulterated desire to have him, to be owned, to know what it feels like to be wholly his. You didn’t know which one would win, but you could only hope there’ll still be something left of you when the battle found its victor in the midst of all the chaos.

He was rough as he pushed you until you tipped backwards, but his caress was gentle as he caught you and made sure you weren't hurt as your body hit the damp, soft grass. When he spread your legs and kneeled in between them, you knew you whatever ounce of self-restraint you had was swiftly thrown out the window, and you knew the relief you'd get to feel once he was done with you would be worth the regret in the morning - at least, it felt so right now. His fingers dug into your thighs as they massaged upwards, from your shins to your hips, and when both his thumbs caressed the sensitive spot at the edge of your loincloth, your breath hitched in your throat, silently begging him for more, hoping he wouldn't make you say words out loud you could never take back.

As if he could hear your thoughts, he spoke, his hands stilling on the knot of your tewng.

"Tell me you want this. I need to know you want this, or I stop."

You hissed at him, conflicted beyond words and reason, because no, of course you didn't. But yes, you did. Of course you did.

"I hate you. I fucking hate you, Neteyam."

At your words, his hands dropped from your hips and in an instant, he was on top of you, his gaze stopping the breath in your lungs as he looked at you, his hand gripping your throat once more, the aggressive gesture at odds with the softness in his eyes and the way he was caressing your jaw in barely-there touches with his thumb.

"I hate you more. So much more. I still need an answer, yawne."

You stared daggers at him, and refused to talk, but as you wrapped your fingers around his cummerbund and pulled him in, until his lips met yours in a messy kiss of teeth and tongues, throbbing deep in you at the way he moaned in your mouth, you knew words were meaningless, and words couldn't convey the feelings that tormented you, anyway. You reached for his tewng and masterfully unwrapped it, feeling his cock spring free and slap against your abdomen, and the weight of it made you gasp, a smirk erupting from his face in response.

You needed him. You needed him to numb the pain the he created, that you created, you needed the emptiness that came from being filled to the brim, the fleeting peace that would come with the high that you knew he could provide, because it hurt. It all hurt, and you couldn't stand it. You reached your hand and wrapped your fingers around his length, your slick leaving a wet patch in the fabric, that was increasing in size by the second, just at the thought of how he'd feel stretching you out. He let out a small groan at the way you were caressing him, running your thumb over the slit, smearing the precum that was leaking, that you felt a sudden urge to taste.

"F-fuck!"

"Take off my tewng, Neteyam."

"For once in your life, you will not get to dictate how this goes."

Despite his words, he listened, and you winced at the weight of his body being lifted off you, instantly missing the contact and comfort it provided. But he wasn't gone long, as he removed your clothes, and you tried not too think of how good his gaze felt on you, how empowering the desire in his eyes as he took you in, how he had to lick his lips and swallow audibly, as if he was a starved man in a desert, and you were his fata morgana.

He took no time in attaching himself to you again, the thick head of his cock prodding at your entrance, and the velvety feel of him against your folds involuntarily makes you shut your eyes closed and your head push back, need heightening at the way he starts licking and sucking at your breast, leaving purple marks in the wake of his lips and tongue, that you want on every inch of you, that you wanted to cum on as he made your knees buckle and your vision spot.

His face finds a home in the crook of your neck as he slides inside you, taking his time to feel you, every inch of your walls, as they stretched to accommodate for his size, and it feels so good, too good, his cock in you, his tail around your thigh, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your skin, or gripping at your waist, his breath on your neck, his teeth sinking in you so he could stop himself from telling you all the confessions bubbling in his chest, all the ways it's all making sense to him now, that he's never hated you, he's just hated not having you, not being able to call you his. Still, as he bottoms out in you, he can't help some of them from spilling out, the dam of his heart slowly coming apart at the seams.

"It had to be someone who had no resemblance to you. It had to, Vi. Don't you understand? Because any time I looked at anyone, I saw you in them. Their eyes, or lips, their tanhì or stripes, even the smallest similarity killed me, reminded me how much I hate you, how much I want to, how much I don't. I've wanted to hate you so much, I tried so hard, but you were in every dream, in every fantasy, you haunted me my whole life."

You did understand. You understood too well. That's why you chose O'i'en. Because he was nothing like the Neteyam you came to know in the years you became an adult. Because his touch was warm and made you feel nothing. Because his eyes bore no resemblance to his, the glimmer of amber nothing like the green flickers that felt like were Eywa's inspiration for the forest that surrounded you; O'i'en's tanhì were scattered like light through the leaves and branches of the trees, unlike Neteyam's, which were like the star dust that created all life in the Universe, that shone brighter than any light post, that shone so brightly, they led you home every night when you were young.

The tears gathered in your eyes as he started a steady pace of his hips, conflicting feelings tugging at the string of your already broken and torn apart heart, whose heart beats felt dragging and echoing, different to the two sounds you were used to, instead pulsating three syllables throughout your whole body, enveloping you and taking over your mind, forcing you to come to terms with issues you thought you buried so deeply, you'd never have to see again.

I hate you. I love you. I hate you. I love you. I hate you, I hate you....

I love you.

"Neteyam..."

"I know. You're doing so well for me. So well. Fuck, you feel so, so good."

You moan at his words, the desire bubbling inside of you quickly reaching heights you wouldn't mind falling from, being pushed from, so you could feel the euphoria that came along with falling, without having to worry about the inevitable crash that would follow, at least not right now.

"I can feel you squeezing me. Come for me, yawne. I need to feel you come all over my cock."

For the first time since he's called you that, the term of endearment didn't feel ironic or facetious, and for once in your life, you had no problem obeying his orders - when you came, you came violently, legs shaking and back arched, whimpers and moans pushing past your lips unrestrained, and the sounds made his cock twitch inside of you, his own orgasm so close he could taste it. He lets you ride your high fully before pulling out of you, thick ropes of iridescent cum painting your abdomen and chest, that, in your fucked out mind, you almost wish painted your still-throbbing walls instead.

You know all my dreams, you were one, so it seemed And I love you but with you, it's heartache I breathe You gave it your all, just with everything you took from me

It was almost... domestic, the way he was asleep peacefully next to you, his breath so steady and deep, and so relaxed, it almost sounded like purring, his strong, muscular arms holding you close as you lay on your back, looking at the stars, bright, blurry orbs through the distorted lens of your tears, that couldn't stop falling, no matter how much you willed them away. The crash did come eventually, in the few hours since, and it felt like it broke all your bones in the process.

"You and me, we're meant to rise and fall together."

Those words, that became the overarching theme of your relationship, words that you never realised when you spoke them as a child that you would both take so literally, rang in your ears like a broken record your mind could no longer turn off. You were right, all those years ago. Even back then, you knew. You and Neteyam did rise together. From children to adults, from pupils to teachers, from toy soldiers to hardened warriors, rose you did, until you were so high up, the air was thin and suffocating. But nothing compared to your penchant for falling. You fell hard, from grace, from cloud nine, for the other's other schemes and plots, for your own compulsions, obsessions and greedy desires, and mostly, for each other. Your relationship was fire and ice, it was everything and nothing all at once, a war you fought and a war you lost, a war in which innocents had to die and lives were lost, a war you were finally tired of.

You and Neteyam rose and fell together, over and over again, your whole lives. A twisted carousel that wouldn't stop until one of you jumped off it, and with Oare's death, and the shame that followed it, you finally realised it had to be you.

In the early hours of the morning, after a quick wash in the cold lake, you found your way back to the village and straight to the Tsa'hik's tent. You were happy to see her, and nervous to talk, but you knew the quicker you got it out, the quicker it would be over. So with a deep breath, you spoke your piece, and hoped she'd listen.

“Ma Tsa’hik. I’m here to ask you to let me out of this arrangement. Please. I can’t do this, not with Neteyam. I’m done.”

Oh, my love Is this the end for us? Maybe we've had enough

taglist: @fanboyluvr @theycallmesia @afro-hispwriter @soleilmoon @crazy4books1 @bakugouswaif@randxmthxughts @xreadersstuff @sirezaya @kimberlyshailany-blog @gyuventure @jujudsmyst @kikookii @nxptury @nonniesworld @koing-slvt @bakugouswaif @isnt-itstrange @tpwkforevermore @alahamums @tallulah477 @gknj9495@aquamarine001 @itssomeonereading @yumimak@sweetbread-m@eqgroil @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @juneonhoth @yagirlheree @jackiehollanderr @legendarynoodlebowl @iameatingmyhair @justasimps-blog@hannabanana-09 @xylianasblog @misscaller06 @yeosxxx @myh3artttt @teyamsbitch@musicownsme @i-live-in-a-fantasy-daydream @zoetrope1997 @itsmy-alteregohere @ntymavtr @curlszx88 @maki-z @riatesullironalite @baahsaama @luna-salem @teyamtesuli @koing-slvt @call-me-doll-face @puresirius-things @saturniac @call-me-doll-face @dreaming-of-the-reality @whorefortim

(sorry if i missed anyone this list is getting so longgg)

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rosazoldyckk · 1 year

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-Yandere! Illumi X Kidnapped! Reader-

⚠️warning⚠️ mentions of physical violence and abuse, un-consented NSFW moments (ONLY KISSING but still worth the tw) and needles.

Fandom: Hunter X Hunter. Character(s): Illumi Zoldyck, butler(s) (not specific)

A/N: I’m sorry if this is absolutely crap. I’ve got a lot of drafts about yandere Illumi, Chrollo and Hisoka so I didn’t really proof read this one😅 hope you enjoy my writing anyways❤️

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"You know how I feel about repeating myself Y/N." Illumi muttured, harshly sticking his needle into your already needle-covered head. His heartbeat increasing as your pained screams filled the room.

"I told you not to engage with them, didn't I?" He questioned, shoving another needle into your skull. You nod weakly, shivering at the cold chains while the burning sensation drew tears to your eyes.

Them, the them he's speaking of were simply butlers, which over time you considered friends after all the things they did to ensure your safety, that's all! Though he is probably no more. Your "lover" hated when you talked to anyone else, whether it was his butlers or even his own family, Illumi hated when you talked to anyone but him. That was the only thing that scared him, that was something he wouldn't allow happen. As long as he's alive he won't allow anyone to taint you, to see things in a different view than him.

It's unacceptable.

"Answer me."

The usual coldness of his voice had a tint of anger in it, which almost scared you, how could doing something so simple manage to make him this angry? "Y..es"

The dark-haired man smiled, a sick one at that. Moving closer, giving a thankfully soft tug on your blood-covered hair, pulling you into his arms. His hands being a bit closer to your back than you'd like. You simply attempted to ignore the sharp pain from the impact, thinking that it couldn’t get any worse than this.

As much as you tried to ignore the pain, it was enough for you to loose strength in resisting when Illumi fully closed the gap, placing his lips against yours experimentally. They were so oddly warm compared to the rest of him, molding to yours with ease as he moved against you. All you could sense was him. The dangerous may strong scent of pine with metallic undertones nearly becoming overpowering and almost intoxicating has he continued to kiss you breathless. It was almost enough to forget the pain shooting throughout your body.

Almost.

You attempted to protest with whatever strength you had left in your body but Illumi continued to cling onto you; the whine you let out muffled from his mouth over yours.

When he finally let you go, he left you breathless - chest heaving while you stared at him once more with eyes as wide as plates.

Illumi rubbed his thumb over your soft lips. Using his other one you run over your bruised back, snickering at your small flinches.

"Why must you disobey me like this Y/N? Why can't you make my job easier?" He whispers against your skin, talking more to himself than anything else.

"I love you so much," He sighed, kissing away from the salty tears streaming down your face. Being hardly able to contain himself in your disheveled state. "I'm only doing this because I love you, because others can and will seek to hurt you. You know I can't have that, don't you?"

You didn't have anything to say, there was nothing you really could say. You were confused beyond comprehension. How could he possibly hold you in his arms, look at you with such loving eyes after doing such unspeakable things to you? He doesn't want them to 'hurt you' but hasn't he hurt you more than they ever could? What could you possibly do now? Were you even in a position to go against his command?

You hiss at the sudden pain from the numerous questions racing through your head. Alerting the assassin much to your distress. The assassin could read you like an open book, studying you and your reactions longer than you can remember. As if knowing exactly what was going through your mind he scoffed, switching from his much nicer expression.

"And what could you possibly be thinking about?" Illumi asked, tapping on your cheek. "Ah, don't tell me it's those fools from earlier. It must be."

You let out a shaky sigh at his challenging tone. He knew he was right and so did you; that look you gave him only confirmed his suspicions. But the little bit of hope in your heart for them to be kept alive regardless of their so called ‘betrayal’, for them to continue helping you get back home. It would be your fault for their deaths after all.

Illumi gathered his needles from your head and freed you from the chains, catching you in his arms as you collapsed onto the floor. He let you go, still staring down at you as he licked your blood off the needles.

Crouching back down to you, he holds your face in one hand. "You'll stay here until you are properly disciplined, I have things to do." Though not realizing what they were you knew they were nothing but good. Pressing one last kiss to your cheek he leaned forward to whisper in your ear.

"Just remain by my side and behave, and everything will be alright."

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clonehub · 1 month

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The bad batch has some of the shallowest writing I've seen in ages. The wrong character interactions get the attention, while the audience is left with a "tell, don't show" style of narrative storytelling that just leaves people unsatisfied left right and center. Hunter is upset because he feels guilty (a generous read imo) for letting omega get captured while Crosshair was the one to escape with her. Hunter is not mad at Crosshair for his decision to choose the Empire, which led to Tech's death. Hunter is not mad that Crosshair joined the regime that literally mind controlled him into attempting to set them on fire.

Omega afaik never had a solid, positive interaction with Crosshair the way she did with the rest of the bad batch all during seasons one and two. Crosshair tried multiple times to kill her, under influence of the chip. He objectively knew this and still chose the Empire. Omega also objectively knew this and forgives him anyways? And still has faith in him? She was hurt over his decision to stay, but never harbored any fear or resentment. Just pure and total love. And now she's guiding him through dealing with his trauma by meditating on sunset-lit beaches.

Wrecker is still a non-character who doesn't lead and hardly participates in any meaningful way in conversations. I don't recall him having any extensive conversations with any of the other batchers. I remember Tech being snappy with him, and Crosshair saying he has a tiny mind back in season 1. He has cute moments with Omega, but doesn't get developed outside. He doesn't get developed at all, really, besides following the narrow track of the trope set out for him.

The entire emotional arc of the series is dedicated to everyone around Crosshair forgiving him for his choice to join the Empire, but...he's never once thus far actually seemed remorseful. Does he condemn the Empire's violence? Does he look sad or regretful that he got so many of Howzer's men killed on Ryloth? Does he say "I hate what the Empire did to clones, I hate that they used chips on us, I hate that they made me oppress people throughout the galaxy, I hate that the Empire is a violent oppressive regime hurting innocents"? No. He says "The Empire wasn't loyal to me." He doesn't justify what he did, but he definitely doesn't regret it.

(Which is funny because soon afterwards, Rex is able to sow the seeds of doubt into Wolffe's mind that the Empire is bad because they're making him hunt a child.)

And the writers do the laziest thing in the world by having this potentially massive conflict between two characters and using rescue/saving their life as a stand in for a real conversation. Crosshair saves Hunter from the ice worm, they nod, and now they're chill/more chill. They present this as if anything else was a viable option, as if Crosshair would have reasonably or realistically left Hunter to get eaten by the giant ice worm. Then they frame Hunter and Crosshair's mistakes (for the former, I have no idea what) as on par with one another. After their non-argument, Crosshair saves Howzer's life (?), they nod, and that's it. Forgiven.

Halfway through the season and the writing still feels just as unbalanced as it did in season 1. Multiple people keep talking about how they feel like coworkers and roommates with guns rather than brothers. The writers do a better job saying the word loyalty than actually showing it. The majority of the emotional burden is being put on Omega, the only prominent female character in the series and a child. Why is she the emotional support group for a group of grown men? It's just classic misogyny. I'm amazed that type of trope even reared its head again, it's been so long since I've seen it.

Even the writers don't seem to know how to express the batchers' supposed love for one another. No, saving each other's lives is not proof of a deep love or even respect for one another. That's bare minimum. That's SoP. Them leaving each other to die would be the extreme thing, not the other way around. They hardly mention Tech. They had a forced-feeling "hang our heads in silence at the mention of tech's name", and every time after that he's been mentioned as far as his usefulness to the squad. Maybe the second half of the season will have people actually confront Crosshair about Tech. The "Don't have the heavy emotional conversations" thing has been a problem since The Clone Wars, unfortunately. Pretend Teth didn't happen. Pretend Umbara and the Kadavo arc didn't happen. Don't show Rex's reaction to Ahsoka leaving at ALL. Don't show Omega informing Crosshair of Tech's death, which is WILD to me.

Some people claim that the Bad Batch have had six or so months to grieve and mourn, and they're seasoned soldiers who've experienced loss and death before, so they're used to this. The former I can see, but the latter? Who would they have been losing? They're not connected to other clones, rarely worked with them, and never liked them. What losses have they fielded beforehand? They don't even act like 99 or share his values.

I know I'm not alone in this, and at this rate I'm probably beating a dead horse, but it bears repeating: Crosshair hasn't condemned Empire violence, he's only condemned how they treat him in particular. This is a dangerous way to present fascism and why people choose fascist organization/regimes. There's absolutely a personal element to it. Arrogance. Ego. Material or emotional insecurity. But there's an external part as well: desire for control, hierarchy, order, violence. Fascists understand that the ideology is violent. That's why they join the regime. They want and support the subjugation of those they believe deserve it. In real life, this is people of color, women, disabled people, immigrants, the "degenerates" of society, and others. In Star Wars, that's the aliens and the enslaved, the "traitors" and the Rebels. Fascists being "lead astray" or "misguided" by thoughts of loyalty or personal power come secondary to oppressing others.

Maybe they'll address that in the second half of the season. It's a generous read, but I don't want to make any calls til I've seen everything. Unfortunately, every interaction Crosshair has with people has been designed to service their forgiveness of him, all without him actually apologizing for anything. Yes, he must explicitly apologize. He joined a fascist regime after they made him do terrible, heinous things. The text tells us that Crosshair only left because the Empire wasn't loyal to him. Anything other than a clear apology would be bad and frankly dangerous writing.

#ch posts #tbb critical #tbb negative #tbb spoilers #long post #its so like. status quo. generic. regressive in a way? so many words but i feel like im still not being clear #persistent writing issues from s1 #legacy writing issues from tcw #somehow #its so. weird to see.#shallow empty vague show v tell problems racist ableist #goes out of its way to retcon the clones and then doesnt even make the central characters interesting?#like huh #tbb neg #tbb crit

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kiiriminna · 4 months

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Gift

This is part of series of connected PKNA/Donuno -oneshots, that I'm slowly starting to translate. I'll eventually drop the whole thing in AO3, but consider this as a Christmas present!

This short fic takes place right after PKNA #13: The Darkest Night (you can find it on Tumbrl; try @uncaaj).

****

On his way back to Duckburg from Bravestone, Donald felt tired, fatigued and irritated. That the Evrons had the gall to choose Christmas night out of all nights to attack a peaceful little town… And to top it all, when Commander Westcock had finally waltzed in – being fashianably late, like he was some big shot...! – then, as a reward for all his troubles, the man had dared to treat him with such an aggressively overbearing manner that even now it made Donald to grit his teeth.

“Nothing I do is ever enough, right?”

‹…Are you talking to me, Duck Avenger?›

“Ah… it was nothing, One. I'm just a little tired.”

‹Then rest. I can pilot the Duckmobile on remote control.›

The offer was certainly tempting. Tomorrow there would be an early wake-up call, when the boys would rush downstairs to open their presents, and right after breakfast they would have to go round to Grandma's for Christmas dinner.

“Well, if you’re sure you don't mind...”

‹Why would I? Even heroes need to sleep sometimes, you know.›

“This hero would need a couple of months or a year to catch up on his sleep deprivation”, Donald yawned as he wrapped his cape around himself and took a more comfortable position in his pilot's chair as the green indicator light on the dashboard lit up as a proof that the remote control was turned on.

‹I'm afraid that I can't offer you such a long nap, but would half an hour be okay for the first aid? I'll wake you up when we arrive to the Duckburg.›

“Thank you, One.” He leaned his head against the headrest of the seat and let his tired eyes fall shut. “Oh, and sorry.”

‹Why so, hero?›

"I didn't find anything to buy you for a Christmas present," Donald answered with a bit of a grimace. "I'll try to come up with something after the holidays... but my funds are hardly enough for anything very fancy, let alone your biggest wish."

‹My… what?›

“You know”, Donald insisted with a worn wave of his hand, “that something that you wouldn't be able to buy even if you had all of Ducklair's possessions at your disposal.”

‹Oh… that.› One chuckled, sounding oddly fond… well, not all that odd, actually; the AI was little by little starting to behave much more human than what Donald had first thought he was even capable off, or what One himself was willing to admit. “No need to worry about that, Duck Avenger… You already gave it to me – or part of it, at least.›

Donald's heavy eyelids fluttered open. “What?! I did? When?”

‹When you said we were friends.›

He did remember it: One puzzled expression and slightly widened eyes as the AI demanded confirmation from him of what he had just said.

“I do not understand…”

He could hear a smile in One's voice as he answered: ‹You do understand, hero. You just need time to process.›

Indeed. As Donald turned One's words over in his tired mind, the pieces slowly fell into place, and he suddenly felt heat on his face. "Was… your great wish just that? a friend?”

‹It’s definitely a large part of it›, One admitted. ‹And there’s nothing “just” in it, either. I'm afraid that without your, erm, inspiring company I might well have end up losing my mind, just like happened to my poor brother Two… although I do believe I could do with a little less of your questionable humor.›

“Aww, One… I didn't know you were such a sentimental type of a person!” Donald cooed with a teasing voice to hide his own affection. Did he really mean that much to One – him, Donald Duck, the hot-headed klutz, and a golden child of misfortune?

The AI sighed heavily. ‹I guess I made a mistake telling you this, didn't I?›

“There's no reason to feel embarrassed! I think that was an adorable thing to say, you big, green dork!”

‹Please stop.›

Donald grinned and relaxed again against the back of his seat. In a way, he would have liked to tease One a little more – after all, the AI never let pass any change to tease him – but on the other hand, One was in control of the Duckmobile right now, and the smooth ride could quickly turn into a bumpy one if his partner got irritated enough.

“Okay, okay; I’ll let it slide. But it was still really sweet.”

‹Bah.›

“And despite all that, I'm still going to buy you a present, so don't get too fussy about it. That's what friends do.”

One was silent for a moment. ‹If that’s the case, then I must give you something too.›

Ouch. And once again, his wit had come back to bite him on the ankle. “You have already given more than enough”, Donald hastened to assure. “The Duckmobile, the Extransformer Shield, the secret base at Ducklair Tower… not to mention all the delicious snacks you've made for me.”

‹If giving gifts is, indeed, a part of friendship, then it also applies to me›, One countered, with a serious tone of voice that clearly accepted no arguments. ‹But now, you really need to rest. I'll wake you up once it’s time to get out.›

“I trust in it”, Donald said with a yawn and curled up in his seat. “I trust in you…” he mumbled, before mechanical whirring and light rocking of the Viittamobile's lulled him into the land of sleep.

Through his dream he could hear One’s familiar voice sighing, ‹What wouldn’t I do for you, hero…?›

****

A few days later, Donald gave One a framed autograph of Duckie Starry, the shining star actress of Anxieties, who had been more than happy to hand one for her hero Duck Avenger. The AI had clearly been delighted by the present and then squirmed awkwardly as he offered Donald his own gift: a vintage miniature model of the flagship of the original Star Battles trilogy.

‹It’s nothing special… I don’t know all that much about your interests outside of work…›

“Are you serious?! No way, I love it!” Donald blurted, genuinely amazed. “I don't understand how you even got your hands on this! I thought these would cost a fortune -” he broke off, giving One a hard stare. “…You didn't pay crazy sums for this, did you?”

One smiled shyly. ‹Not at all. I got my hands on several broken models cheaply and assembled this from their parts. I understand it means that this model’s monetary value is about non-existent -›

“Who cares?” Donald said and gently hugged the model to his chest. “I will treasure this forever! I remember how I used to beg my grandmother and uncle Scrooge to by me one of these when I was just a little chick…"

‹And you didn't still get it?›

Donald snorted. “From Uncle Scrooge's point of view, miniature models are just a waste of money, and my grandma, on the other hand, thought that I would just have broken it right away – which, admittedly, is probably quite true. I used to be a little rascal back then…”

‹I could argue that you're still quite a rascal on this day›, One pointed out with a grin.

“Haar haar. Which one of us was the noisy brat who keeps eavesdropping on our neighbors, again?” Donald purred back.

‹I solemnly swear that nowadays I exclusively limit such actions to our dear friend Angus Fangus.›

“Ah, well then. He’s a special case, after all”, Aku laughed. “Okay, work calls. May I have my outfit, One?”

‹Of course, hero. Would you like me to prepare a little snack for you after you return from the scout tour?›

“I certainly wouldn't mind if you had a couple of sandwiches waiting for me by then.”

‹It's a deal.›

Little later Donald, now all suited up, climbed into Duckmobile and waved his hand to One, who had followed him to the underground hangar in one of his smaller and more mobile forms. “See you soon!”

‹Good luck. Bread and tea will be waiting upstairs when you're ready.›

Donald smiled. Being the Duck Avenger had always been an awesome experience – the danger, the excitement, the adrenaline rush pulsating in his veins – but it was all made even better by a friend at his side; someone whom he could trust, who helped and supported him and, when necessary, even patched up the wounds he received during the nightly ventures.

I wasn’t any lesser as a hero before I met One, Donald thought, and if necessary, Duck Avenger could definitely survive without him again…

…but even still, now I really hope there will never be a day when he no longer stands by my side…!

#pkna #paperinik new adventures #paperinik #duck avenger #donald duck #uno #pk uno #donuno #duno #my fanfics

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iisasarcasticlittleshite · 2 years

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Strongest Menace (DrunkGojo x GN!Reader)

All of the comments on my Nanami post were expressing deep concern for Gojo, it's pretty much a unanimous agreement that the man's a lightweight, so I figured I'd put everyone's minds at ease.

Be aware, I wrote this up pretty quick so it's not really detailed, I've been bored all day :P Got everything done on my morning energy surge haha.

'Something better be on fire if you're calling me at two in the morning, Nanami.' You grunted sleepily into the phone, hardly able to construct syllables due to being woken up after only falling asleep two hours ago. 'You're where with...excuse me? You took Gojo, drinking? Gojo took you drinking. Fuck.'

You were throwing off blankets and sliding on shoes while Nanami blearily told you where he'd last seen the strongest sorcerer, your boyfriend, who just so happens to be an absolute lightweight.

A chipmunk could outdrink Satoru, normally he knows not to push it, especially around Nanami, who has a fairly high tolerance and tends to go walkabout when he gets drunk.

Sometimes though, he forgets. Which puts you in a very awkward position, using your curse to track down your snowy menace of a partner.

Tonight, you were lucky, he had all his clothes on and lay passed out on a bar top, being drooled over by some girls.

You rolled your eyes, strutting up to the bartender and holding out your credit card. 'Hey, this idiot's my boyfriend, mind if I clear his tab?'

'Got any proof?'

You pulled out your phone, showing a picture of you and Satoru on the day of your graduation, he's got you sat on his shoulder, holding up a peace sign with a stupid grin on his face.

The bartender nodded, muttering under his breath as he takes your card and pays off whatever bill Satoru had racked up.

Now came the hard part. Pushing past the people drooling over your boyfriend, you poked his cheek gently. 'Hey, idiot! Rise and shine.'

'Mmm, angel? 'm I dead?'

'You will be if you keep me up much longer.' You mutter grumpily, grabbing his arm and slinging it over your shoulders. 'It's (Y/N), so don't you dare start wailing about me kidnapping you again, snowflake.'

'Oooh, hey there doll. You're lookin' hot as fire tonight!' He's not slurring nearly as much as he does when he's half asleep, if you didn't know him any better you'd think he was more sober than he is. Experience tells you that Gojo can sound as sober as the day he was born, while being pissed out of his mind.

'Come dance with me?'

'You can't even walk straight, dipshit.' Normally, you wouldn't have dreamed of fighting him, but in this state? He's putty in your hands and lets you half carry him to your car. 'Don't you dare puke on my seats, Satoru.'

'Oooh, you said my name all sexy like.' He sings flirtatiously. 'Car sex?'

'Whiskey dick?' You snorted in mild amusement, slamming the driver's side door shut and rolling the windows down. 'You good?'

'Mmm, am now with you here, gorgeous. Have I ever told you how perfect you look even when you're sleep deprived?'

'Good, because I'm always sleep deprived.'

'Weeell you're always pretty sooo...' He puckers his lips expectantly at you, only earning rolled eyes and your palm to his face. 'Ow! Baby, don't you wanna kiss your man?'

'When he stinks of bar floor? Not really. Besides, I'm driving. Now behave.'

Satoru doesn't know the meaning of the word, it takes practise to ignore the way his hands wander, the way he whines in your ear. You won't lay a hand on him (in that sense) when he's this fucked up. He'll pay for it tomorrow, and the night after that.

He flirts and whines and moans all the way to your apartment and into your bed, where he promptly passes out, wrapped around you like a damn koala.

His face is buried against your neck, placing kisses in his sleep, muttering sweet nothings, and despite the alcohol on his breath and the knowledge that he'll whine your ear off tomorrow about the hangover, you can't help but relish in the knowledge that you're the only one who gets to see him like this.

World's strongest he may be, he's also a lightweight, a terrible flirt, an absolute menace to society when inebriated, and above all that, he's yours.

#jjk fluff #gojo satoru x reader #drunk!gojo #teeth rotting fluff #nanami kento

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saintunhinged · 2 years

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Salutations! This one's going to be a weird one, so strap in. Imagine if, when Asra revived MC, they came back as an otherworldly, human-imitating cryptid who doesn't quite know how to Human properly. The only thing they remember is that Asra and Faust make up their Family Unit, and the only reason they don't attack random passerby on sight is because Asra Wouldn't Like That.

this was actually so fun to write. hopefully, you enjoy :) i haven’t proof read this yet

content warning : mention of death & violence.

On the outside, you appeared to be as normal as the next person, but you knew you weren’t. You knew it from the moment you opened your eyes. You didn’t feel the sudden urges you had were strange, but the look Asra shot you when you were preparing to act on something made that clear.

You vividly remember the suffocating smell of lavender and dried flowers filling your nostrils. Its aroma was almost overwhelming, and your ability to think of anything else but the scent was quelled. You immediately noticed your field vision being locked by a person with fluffy white hair leaning over you.

You knew nothing about him whatsoever, but his presence alone was enough to make you feel at ease.

“Friend woke!” You heard a tiny voice, seconds later another head appeared, but it was much smaller in comparison, and blue.

Asra knew something was up. Every little thing seemed to spark irritation within you, and sometimes he’d even find you sitting in positions that no human could manage. Asra wasn’t naive enough to believe bringing you back from the dead meant you’d be the same, he just didn’t expect to bring back what he brought back.

Despite your condition, Asra was more than determined to get you to your best. You indisputably had a lot to learn. Knowing Asra and his familiar planned to be by your side throughout the journey was the motivation you needed.

Time passed before you were going through life as would you in your previous life. Asra was patient in teaching you everything you forgot. Praising you when you did something well, encouraging you when you didn’t. There were still many things you didn’t understand, but you were trying your best. If not for yourself, then at least for Asra.

Every day you were learning. You preferred to stay to yourself when you weren’t with Asra. Usually, you curled up in the corner and stared off into nothing for minutes or even hours.

You never went outdoors. The first time you did, someone got hurt. Asra had taken you to town to look for ingredients he ran out of at the shop. He didn’t want to leave you alone, but there were things he needed to get done. Trying to kill two birds with one stone, he figured he could restock the shop and allow you the chance to reconnect with society.

That trip ended with Asra apologizing on your behalf for attacking someone who walked too close for your comfort. Though he wouldn’t openly admit it, the frown that played on his face let you know he did not approve.

The walk back to the shop was eerily silent. He dolefully sighed, “I shouldn’t have brought you out here.” His remorse was merited, but you refused to meet his gaze. His purple eyes stared at you intently and he shook his head, hesitantly stating, “Too soon.”

He let you isolate yourself for a few hours, giving you time to process what happened, but knowing you weren’t going to come to him, he went to you. That night, even though you were hardly responsive, he explained why your actions weren’t okay.

You had predacious desires, that was something you couldn’t help. With Asra mentoring you, you were getting better at keeping them at bay, and matter how strong your urges became, Asra believed in you; the last thing you wanted to do was disappoint him.

Usually, when Asra was running the shop you stayed upstairs in the room where you were most comfortable. Today was no different. You weren’t necessarily fond of strangers. On the rare occasions you came down to observe what was going on, trying to pick up on anything you can to improve your comprehension and communication skills, you kept your distance.

You never paid any attention to Asra’s conversations with any customer in particular, but the sound of raised voices followed by shattering glass caught your attention. Your light footsteps carried you to the main floor. You weren’t sure what exactly happened, but you could put together the pieces.

The aggressive energy circulating the room influenced your emotions. Your penetrating gaze locked on the customer who was creating a scene in the shop. The snarl forming on your face was unable to be contained, seconds later an animalistic growl came from your throat, quickly catching their attention.

To his surprise, Asra’s eyes flickered between you and the patron. Your name left his mouth in a pleading tone and your gaze snapped to meet him. Seeing the signs of an oncoming assault, he timidly shook his head. If you wanted to attack, he doubted he’d be able to stop you before you leaped at them. He trusted you to do the right thing. After all, control was what he wanted you to learn the most.

Sensing the danger they were probably in, the shopper was quick to see themself to the exit. On the other hand, Asra stayed where he was until you calmed down. When he was sure you had no intention of acting irrational, he met you in a tight hug.

You’d never forget the look on Asra’s face when you first pounced on someone. The mix of shock and fear that was replaced with disappointment was something you couldn’t stand to see again.

Unexpected maybe, but since it was coming from him you didn’t quite mind his warm, rather comforting embrace. “Thank you.” He softly murmured. It wasn’t much, but you’d grown accustomed to hearing it. It meant you did something right, that was all either of you could hope for.

#asra alnazar #asra alnazar x reader #the arcana #the arcana x reader #asra x reader #asrathearcana #asra the arcana #asra the magician #the arcana asra #asra route #asra x you #asra x apprentice #asra x mc #asra x male reader #asra x y/n #the arcana x you #the arcana x apprentice #the arcana x mc #asra alzanar

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kyouka-supremacy · 5 months

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i'm curious about the whole 'the author doesn't believe what dazai did to akutagawa is abuse' sentiment - i completely see what you mean in that dazai is presented as this fully formed character, but if the author doesn't think what dazai did was wrong, why do you think it's so closely paralleled to mori/dazai or akutagawa/kyouka's abuse (both narratively, through the cycle of abuse, and artistically through how they're depicted). i feel like both of those are more explicitly deemed as wrong by the author, so why do you think that they're presented in such a similar way to dazai/akutagawa if the author didn't think that abuse was really abuse?

Alright, I know everyone loves to talk about the cycle of abuse, and I agree it's delicious to explore thematically and fun to play with, but it's not a rigid scheme we should stick to no matter what. I think that at best certain events can be interpreted as a cycle of abuse, but I don't think the cycle of abuse itself can be used as an interpretation scheme.

And I just… Can't see any close parallels between the Mori-Dazai relationship and the Dazai-Akutagawa relationship. Moreover: I don't read the Mori-Dazai relationship as an abusive one at all. Sorry about that? But like, I don't see anything blatantly abusive like for the Dazai-Akutagawa or Akutagawa-Kyouka mentor-student relationships, not even close. Yeah Mori probably ended up fuelling a dark side of Dazai but even then… It's not like that's something Dazai didn't have within him despite. In Beast Dazai's interactions with Mori were supposedly way more limited, but it's not like he was any less stained in black, quite the opposite actually. Overall, I think Dazai was doing alright in the pm; for how I see it, him and Mori shared this kind of complicity that didn't necessarily bother Dazai. Mori treated Dazai as an equal, recognized his wits even at an early age and often praised him, even going as far as saying that Dazai reminded him of himself. People have talked about this better than I have. Mori never had any interest in harming Dazai, and to an extent I believe he was even attached to him. I'm not saying it's an healthy relationship- but first, which relationship in bsd is healthy?, and second, quite frankly it's not comparable to the Dazai-Akutagawa or Akutagawa-Kyouka dynamics. I'm no expert of Dazai, so feel free to correct me on this; I haven't read any of the novels with pm Dazai. But I think that what he shared with Mori was more of an intergenerational friendship than anything necessarily negative. Mori's betrayal hit that hard for Dazai exactly because Dazai thought that Mori was someone he could trust, and that only goes to show how Dazai did trust Mori, and didn't hold any hostility towards him before Oda died. Dazai being so effected by Mori's betrayal and resenting him for years after in my opinion is proof of how Dazai relied on Mori; if from the start he hadn't held any positive feeling towards him at all, Mori's betrayal wouldn't have impacted him as much as it did.

If the relationship between Mori and Dazai wasn't really abusive per sé, then we can hardly discern a concrete pattern of abuse between the three different mentor-student relationships. In my opinion, the same goes for the Dazai-Akutagawa / Akutagawa-Kyouka relationships: I can't see a lot of similarities to be drawn between them. Where Dazai was skilled at manipulating and controlling Akutagawa, as well as heavily violent towards him, Akutagawa failed completely at controlling Kyouka, all his attempts to psychologically manipulate her resulted fruitless, and - at least as far as the manga goes - he was never actively violent with her¹, for sure not to Dazai's extent towards Akutagawa. (See this post for more on how Akutagawa and Kyouka's relationship differs from the one between Dazai and Akutagawa).

All accounted, I fail to see any evident narrative parallel between the three relationships– which might perfectly be due to my own personal shortcoming! After all literature is filled with shades and nuances that make it prone to different interpretations. But that's why, again, I don't think the cycle of abuse can be used to interpret the three bonds, or to understand Dazai's aptitude towards Akutagawa and the author's moral stance on it. In my opinion the cycle of abuse can be the result of a reading analysis, but it hasn't got strong enough canon basis to be used as an interpretation tool itself. Neither I think that there's other parallels between the relationships that allow me to tell whether Dazai's abuse is portrayed as fair or not for comparison to the others.

¹ An entire new discussion could be opened on this. In the manga, we never saw Akutagawa hit Kyouka while she was still in the pm / under him (it's different in the anime, with that added scene of Akutagawa piercing her neck in episode 4; but then again, that mostly accounted to a threat, and it's nothing in comparison to what Dazai did to him). Akutagawa seems to get rougher with Kyouka when she starts slipping out of his control; pulling her by the hair (?) in chapter 9 and grabbing her neck in chapter 11; but again, that can't compare with the Dazai/Akutagawa relationship used to be like (he did very much try to kill her though). That said, since Kyouka is a little girl, there's probably also a publishing-reticence factor playing a role, aimed to use special caution to not depict a man beating up a young girl; there's a chance that, had Kyouka been a boy, Akutagawa's portrayed treatment of her would have been different. The way the two times Akutagawa tried to kill her remained strictly non-graphic and free of violence feel like further proof of this, in honesty. I know this kind of considerations to not hurt the reader's sensibility are usually taken into account when publishing manga; but then again, mine are just speculations.

#ōgai mori #osamu dazai #ryūnosuke akutagawa #kyōka izumi #bsd #bungou stray dogs #mine #people asks me stuff

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breezybrii · 11 months

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˚- ୨୧ lets give it a try ♡ ⤷ Niki

「genre: fluff, strangers - friends - lovers, he fell she fell harder」

ʚ₊˚ high school AU! Fem!Y/N band AU! 📻

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: swearing, rude humor, kissing?, didn't proof read

this is made to entertain! please enjoy! if you have any suggestions feel free to let me know! thank you!

Note: I just realized i put niki instead of riki but tbh i'm just going to make it so his team and the other enhypen members call him niki and y/n and her friends call him riki.

✎ 》 𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙏𝙬𝙤 ⌨️

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»Niki's POV:

"yeah yeah hurry, i'll see you there!" she's coming! let's go! I waved at her before leaving, i'm so happy. to be honest.. i really admire her. she's so pretty and talented. i've seen her concerts multiple times, since freshman year in fact, and she's always been so amazing.

i was walking towards the locker rooms when i heard someone call my name, "niki! wait up!" it was jake. "hey jake, what's up?" he smirked. "i saw you talking to y/n, what's that about huh," jake teased. "nothing, i ran into her this morning and i thought she was cool so i invited her to our game, that's it, why?" he smiled. "well she happens to be one of my best friends and you know, if you're ever interested.." i stopped him there. "we just met, i think she'll be freaked out about that." jake pursed his lips together. "whatever you say man."

after we all met in the locker room, the coach gave us a quick pep talk and after that, we headed onto the bus. when we were all situated, the bus began pulling out. i leaned my head against the window, it wasn't going to be a short ride as the stadium is quite far.

while i was staring out the mirror, i noticed we past the student parking lot where i saw what looked like y/n. i lifted my head up to get a closer look and sure enough, it was her, getting into the passenger seat of a car. thinking about her just coming to our game made me nervous, i hardly get nervous.

"niki wake up, we're here." i opened my eyes then rubbed them. when my vision became clear, i noticed we were at the stadium. i wonder if she's here.

everyone unloaded the bus and started heading to the locker room to change out of our warm ups and put our bags down. "yeah she's coming, why do you ask?" i heard jake talking to leehan (boynextdoor). who was he talking about? "i wanted to ask her for her number, you know shoot my shot." i pretended to fix the laces on my cleat and scooted a bit closer to them to hear better. "honestly man, you don't have a chance with y/n," jake laughed, "she isn't really the dating type." no way leehan likes y/n, i've never seen them talk before. "oh come on, i'm a handsome guy, she will fall for me as soon as she sees me, right niki?" i rolled my eyes. "sure, whatever you say."

"okay everyone, make even lines and begin warming up!" jake yelled. we all followed what he said and i got in line behind him. we started with knee hugs. "so niki, what did you think about what leehan said?" jake asked. "well i mean he can go for it, it's not like it's any of my business," i continued stretching. "it didn't even make you a little jealous?" is he being for real? "i told you i just met her, if she gets with someone that's not my problem." jake sighed "come on i know you've had a hallway crush on her since AT LEAST sophomore year." i shrugged, "i don't know what you're talking about."

"alright guys, let's go out there and show them who we are," jake hyped us up. "1, 2 ,3 HYBE." we all then stepped onto the field and got into our positions. i looked towards the stands, y/n wasn't there. i'm kind of disappointed. hopefully she comes.

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»Your POV:

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"hurry we're late!" i told ash. "girl you wanted mcdonalds." i put some fries in my mouth. "we have to sit through a game in the HUMIDITY, i need some food with it." ash shook her head. "i know you want to see your little friend but chill, we're like 5 minutes away." the game literally started 10 minutes ago.

"you ladies enjoy," the ticket salesman said as he scanned our tickets. we walked up the ramp and found a place around the middle to sit. it was almost 20 minutes into the first half and the score was still 0-0 but from the looks of it, our team had the ball the majority of the time.

"why do you keep dragging me to games i don't understand y/n," ash sighed and layed in between the bleachers. "well i always buy you food whenever we go so i think that's pretty fair." ash hummed. "look your "friend" pushed someone and has the ball now." i looked over to the field and yeah, riki had the ball. he was actually good at handling the ball and had good passing. he’s actually good.

the buzzer rang. the first half ended and the boys walked out and headed to the locker room. "hey i'm hungry, let's get snacks," i said to ash. "okay yeah i could go for some nachos."

after we got our snacks, we headed back to our seats. the second half already started because of the huge line we had to wait in but we made it back before anything drastic happened.

as we sat down, it was a corner kick for our team. "do you think they'll score now?" ash asked. "well this is their chance, there's only 30 minutes left so they're going to start scoring now and hold onto it until the end and possibly score more." ash shook her head, now focused on the game. the guy kicked the ball, it made it's way to the middle. i noticed someone jump, it was riki. he headed the ball and it went inside the goal. "OH MY GOD!" "that was so cool!" the fans yelled. "i would actually die if that was me that was impressive," i told ash. "girl me too, my head would get blown off".

the final whilst blew, the score 1-0, our school won. "that was a good game, i actually enjoyed it," ash said to me. "well it was pretty interesting, i'm glad you don't regret coming with me this time."

we started heading out when i suddenly heard my name. it was a guy. "uh yeah?" i said, walking up to the fence, where he was on the other side. "hey y/n, i'm leehan and to be straight, i want to get to know you." he smiled. i was shocked. how does this guy know me? "what i'm basically asking is if i could get your number," he continued.

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»Niki's POV:

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i saw him talking to her. was he actually doing it? "i wouldn't let that slide if that was me niki," jake instigated. "oh shut up." i looked back at y/n and leehan. she looked awkward. should i go over there? i felt a hand on my shoulder. "go see what's happening," it was jake. "gosh youre so nosy," i told him.

i walked up to them, what was i going to say? "oh hey y/n, leehan." i said. "hey riki! you did really good out there, your goal was really good," she smiled at me. she looked so pretty. "what are you guys talking about?" i said looking at leehan. "oh i was just asking her a question," he said. "so y/n, what's it gonna be?" y/n moved her eyes side to side, looked at me, and looked at him. "honestly, you seem sweet, but i'm kind of not wanting anything right now, sorry." leehan sighed and shook his head. "alright, that's fine, thanks for being honest." he looked back. "i'll see ya around then." leehan walked away.

"so what was that about," i asked y/n as we walked to the front of the stadium. "oh nothing really, he just asked for my number," she turned to me. "it was kind of weird but once you came i felt a bit more confident." i'm glad i went up to them then. "hey, if you aren't busy, do you maybe want to get ice cream or something? i'll take you home right after." she smiled. "yeah of course, just let me call ash."

"alright, yeah, uh huh, thanks ash, bye bye." she hung up the phone. "i told ash! let's go?" i can't believe we were going to hang out. "my car is a bit messy so don't mind it," i said opening the door for her. i headed to the drivers side and sat down. "i also kind of smell so i hope that won't bother you." she shook her head. "not at all it's okay, i've probably smelt worse," she laughed. "well lets head on our way then!" i started driving. "where do you want to get ice cream?" she furrowed her eyebrows. "hmm... let's go to mcdonalds! fries with ice cream is so good!" i gave her a confused look. "fries and ice cream?" she nodded. "it's actually so good!" i looked ahead and smiled. "okay i believe you, let's get you some." she smiled even harder. she's amazing.

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Author's Note: Hey guys! Sorry I took so long! I kind of didn't know what to write and got distracted while writing. I've also been grinding on minecraft with my friends so I haven't been writing. Also sorry for the short part and it kind of sucks so i apologize! Thank you so much for all the love on the last post!

#niki imagines #niki #niki x reader #enhypen #jake #jay #heesung #jungwon #sunghoon #sunoo #x reader #fanfiction #ff #enhypen imagines

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