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#at least fight without losing his powers

baldursgate3tempobsessed · 7 months

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Astarion Jealousy Part 2

The graphic extension to this but a lil less serious and definitely not sfw.

CW: Jealous spawn astarion who is still a sweetheart, but the drow twins get under his skin. graphic sex scenes, oral, relatively tame honestly. The sex part will be under the cut btw which is m/f. Also vampire man drinks blood. mentionable incorrect language for sex workers

It was odd, being home in Baldur’s Gate without the threat of Cazador always looming. Odd, but equally as wonderful. It had been so thoughtful, if not a little idiotic for Cazador to end up being your first stop in the city. The fight itself had been a blur, a barrage of intense emotions and bloody violence. Astarion had come so close to losing himself back there, losing everything that made him better than the man who almost ruined him. But then… you stopped him. You saw something more in him, a chance for a better life. A more meaningful life, away from the shackles of vampiric power obsessions.

He was officially free. Now he could exist without any fear of his disgusting master’s retribution. He could just… be. Well… not including his darling’s own myriad of enemies that seemed to follow them about everywhere. And there was still the matter of defeating the elder brain, and lord knows if any of you made it through that alive. But at least his personal demons were slain and out of the picture.

Every little step counted after all. Perhaps some of your delusional hopefulness had finally started to rub off on him, but Astarion was actually starting to look forward to his future. Your future, together. All he had to do was get through a few more perilous adventures and then he’d really have you all to himself.

All that said, Astarion could really go without the frequent visits to the local brothel. Was it the best place in the city for gathering information? Yes. It seemed that every walk of life in Baldur’s Gate found their way into Shar’s Caress and if you were going to find alternative passage to the underworld, this would be the best place to find it. But that didn’t mean he had to like it. For one there were the unwelcome advances to his own person, the concept of grace and personal space apparently left at the door. He was so very close to breaking the hand of the next person who thought it was appropriate to grab his ass. And if they could afford to get kicked out he would have by now. Your verbal, angry tirades in his defense could only scare off so many.

But as terrible as his own discomfort was, it was nothing in the face of how often you were being fawned over. What was it about you that seemed to drive everyone mad? Yes you were objectively attractive, but this was frankly getting out of hand. First there was the green skinned druid doing something sensual to your mind, then there were the general stares and whispers as you walked by, and now a pair of gorgeous drow twins trying and failing to proposition you.

It was getting tiresome. There were only so many times a man could take his lover being offered “free” services before he snapped.

On one hand, he could respect the dedication they had to the craft. He could be considered something of a hired whore himself in his time, the old, “the first one’s free” was a tried and true trick. And he also knew, vaguely, that no one was actually trying to steal you from him. But on the other, he couldn’t help the fact that he wanted to claw their eyes out for looking at you so brazenly.

He hadn’t expected the eyes of the woman to wander over to him, like she was just noticing the possessive arm he had wrapped around your waist, “Is that your partner with you? How would you both feel about having a little fun?”

Absolutely fucking not. Maybe the old Astarion would have smiled and nodded, ready to do whatever was asked of him. But the man from that wretched era had died, or at the very least was dying. And he would be damned if he let you lay with another, never less participate in it.

Astarion interrupted your overly-polite attempts stuttering of a refusal. He glared at them both, a sneer painted on his face, “We’ll be passing on that. You’d think the first no would have sufficed, but I suppose it’s not fair to expect everyone to have basic language comprehension. Now as illuminating as this conversation has been, we have places to be. Excuse us.”

Then he was pulling you away, happy to ignore the offended huffs of indignation he had left in his wake.

“We’re supposed to be investigating, remember?” You said with a giggle, not even questioning him as he dragged you to the second floor, “Being rude is not the way we’ll find travel to the hells.”

“I highly doubt they would have been of use,” Astarion said as he pushed you into the first empty room he could find. He felt off, maybe even a little crazed as he turned to you, “Tell me darling, what is it about you that makes you so irresistible, hm?”

He crowded you against the closed door, ducking his head into the crook of your neck to breath you in. You smelled heavenly, you always did. He could trace the barest whiff of your blood from beneath your skin, always calling to him. You were the sweetest thing he ever tasted. Delicious even, for more reasons than one.

“T-They just wanted my coin,” You gasped when he started to suck bruises into your skin, “That’s all.”

“I think they wanted a bit more than that,” Astarion bit out as he shoved his thigh between your legs, “What will it take for others to realize you’re mine.”

His hands were wandering, resting low to grip your hips. He was using them to move you, forcing you to grind against his thigh. You grasped at his shoulders, trying to bite back a moan as you stared at him with wide eyes, “You want to do it here? Does that door even lock?”

It looked like it didn’t, not that Astarion cared. Maybe walking in on him ravishing you would finally start getting the point across of who you belonged to. Astarion shrugged, "There are less appropriate venues than literal whore houses."

“But-”

“But I can tell you want it,” Astarion interrupted with a smirk, his hands barely working to move your body anymore. But that wasn’t stopping you from rubbing yourself all over him, “Just look at you darling. Desperate little thing. But if you really don’t want to…”

Astarion made a lazy attempt to step back, laughing out loud when your desperately pulled him back, your desire finally winning out over your common sense. But you were glaring at him, obviously annoyed that he was so good at riling you up. He had seen that look before, the one that just screamed that you were scheming something.

He just hadn’t expected you to drop to your knees in front of him, huffing as you started to undo the fastenings to his pants, “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a bit of a shit?”

“Maybe,” Astarion said with a strained laugh, his breath catching when you pulled his half-hard cock out, “But it seems to keep getting me the things I want.”

You rolled your eyes before licking a wide strip up his cock, like you weren’t directly proving his point. You looked amazing own there, you’re half-hearted glare morphing into a blissful haze.

Gods, how were you real? Astarion wasn’t quite sure why you were such a fan of getting him down your throat, but he knew that he was a lucky bastard for it.

“Sweet girl,” Astarion sighed, letting a hand drift down to tangle in your hair, “Sweet girl with a perfect mouth. And you’re all mine, aren’t you?”

You made a small, affirmative noise around his cock, taking him in deeper as you clutched at his thighs. You were so good at this, so well-trained after months of being together. He loved the soft, wet sounds that would escape your lips as you swallowed him down, the pretty way your eyes would water as you encouraged him to fuck your throat, how you would squirm in place on your knees, no doubt ruining your panties with how wet you were getting.

And no one else would ever know. No one would get to see you like this again, feel you like this. Needy, desperate, and his. Oddly enough, that thought was what sent him over the edge. He came down your throat, groaning as you eagerly swallowed around him.

You pulled off of him slowly, panting while you smiled up at him. There was the smallest string of spit mixed with his come, connecting from the head of his cock to your lips. You licked it up, still clinging to his thighs as you hazily stared up at him. Sweet enough to make his heart skip a beat, and his dick give a valiant twitch.

He pulled you to your feet, not wasting any time in smashing your lips together. He spun you around, pushing you towards what he prayed was a clean bed.

He pushed you back onto the sheets, making quick work of tearing your pants down your legs as he grinned down at you, “Your turn.”

He kneeled in front of you; spreading his hands over your splayed thighs to peel off your underwear. The core of you was already glistening, slick enough to make Astarion’s mouth water. He licked his lips as he spread your legs further apart, shameless as he feasted on you with his eyes.

You were shaking in his hold, biting your bottom lip when you whined, “Stop staring already…”

“But you’re so pretty here my sweet,” Astarion cooed, tracing a single finger over the seam of your cunt, “And you’re dripping. Poor thing, have I kept you waiting too long?”

You nodded excitedly above him, your hips bucking when he let his fingers dip in further between your pussy lips. He lightly traced your clit, softly laughing at the way the simple touch made you whine.

It was his own fault that you were so needy, a fact that brought a smirk to his lips. You always got so wet after you had him down your throat, soaked and gorgeous.

Astarion dove right in, loudly moaning as he licked into your folds. He dragged his lips upward to suckle on your clit, basking in all the cries and whimpers escaping you.

He licked back down, teasing your hole with his tongue as your legs quivered around his head. He let the sharpness of his fangs scrape against you as he started to fuck you with his tongue, threatening your most intimate places.

He knew you liked that; little minx that you were. The slight risk of pain that was always looming. It made him want to sink his fangs in you for real, a hunger that he'd sate after he had you gushing into his mouth.

You were already close, he could tell from the way your cunt was tightening around his tongue; too worked up from the thrill of being in public and the taste of him still lingering on your tongue. Astarion trailed talented fingers up to rub against your clit, his tongue still curling inside of you as you cried out. Finally falling over the edge. But that wasn't stopping him from continuing to play with you.

You had to tug on Astarion’s hair for him to finally pull away, too over sensitive to handle his talented tongue. You were still trembling by the time he leaned back, licking his lips. He rested his head on your thigh, obviously pleased with himself as he grinned up at you. He could feel your heart racing against his cheek, the sound of your blood pumping singing through your veins. It had his mouth watering for a completely different reason.

He let his fangs drag against the delicate skin of your inner thigh, looking up at you through his lashes, "Can I?"

A superfluous question. Not when he already knew the answer before it escaped your lips.

“Y-yeah," You mumbled, lovingly gazing down at him. He would never tire of seeing that look on your face, "But be gentle? Please?”

"Of course my love," Astarion murmured, before promptly sinking his fangs into your flesh. He had to hold you down from the way you were still trembling, your quivering only getting worse at the pleasure mixed with pain. He didn’t let himself go rabid, just enough to get a taste. He was pulling back too soon, smiling to himself at the little whine you let out. He gently licked over the wound before standing, not yet swallowing the last drops on his tongue.

Instead he leaned forward to kiss you, more than happy to share the sweet taste of your blood as he slipped his tongue into your mouth.

“Thank you my dear,” Astarion sighed as he pulled away, “That was exactly what I needed. Now I think that’s enough investigating for one day.”

You sighed, taking the time to card your fingers through his hair, “Agreed. Though you might have to carry me out of here now.”

Wasn’t that a wonderful idea?

Astarion hummed as he pulled your clothing back on, “I think I like the sound of that," He didn't give you time to respond, too busy sweeping you up in his arms with a grin, "I'll be taking you up on that."

You squeaked when he hefted you up, bridal style, “I wasn’t being serious!”

But it was too late, Astarion was already kicking the door open. He shrugged at you, completely shameless as he winked at a few onlookers, "Then you shouldn't have suggested it."

You groaned, hiding your face in his shirt as he happily took you outside, “I’m going to get you back for this. I hope you know that.”

Astarion laughed as he kissed the top of your head, “I’m sure you will.”

It was a childish stunt, borderline on par with a jealous tantrum, but gods, did it feel good. Good enough to sate Astarion's obsessive tendencies for an impressive amount of time. Under normal circumstances.

But what about your lives were normal?

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #you'll pry my long posts out of my cold dead hands #long fic #spoilers #and thats how later astarion found himself on stage with a killer clown #whoops #still fluffy i'd say #I got a soft (in comparison to cough alternatives) jealousy trilogy in mind so one more dirty part. Also #side note #in reality everyone in your party is attractive and probably gets flirted with an equal amount at the caress #but I love the idea of astarion being hyper focused on you.

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evilminji · 10 months

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Oh shit :D ?

I just remembered! (Thank you, historical fantasy section!) But like? Serving and protecting The King, especially a HIGH KING, is quite literally not just an incredible honor... but it can sometimes be a person's Life Ambition?

Specificly a WORTHY king.

Perhaps they were denied in life. Perhaps they FAILED. And in their dying moments struggle with all they were to LIVE. To PROTECT. Perhaps the PREVIOUS king was a great and worthy ruler... but their heir is...

Unworthy.

Maybe they are born to an age without Rulers. Power shifting between hands in hidden halls. Unclear and murky. All they want is for their loyalty to MEAN something. For things to be SIMPLE.

The universe is large. The Infinite Realms? Unimaginably larger.

And Pariah Dark was a BASTARD.

Who would willingly swear to him? Fools! That's who! Every warrior soul worth ANYTHING gets as far AWAY from his Realm forsaken resting place as they can. Hides. Lest they be dragged in to his infernal, gods forsaken, cess pit of a so called "army"! *disgusted spitting noises*

But what does this mean? It means every trained FIGHTER... got the hell out of dodge. Oh, sure, a FEW refused. Like Pandora and her people. But most? The farthest side of NOWHERE, several layers down! Some still GOING! Better to be decried as cowards then have ANYTHING to do with THAT(said with loathing)!

It also means they weren't where Pariah could get to them when he woke. Couldn't help. Couldn't fight. Couldn't be commanded to kneel. Nothing. They removed themselves completely. Planned on CONTINUING to remove themselves. Preferably to the farthest reaches of forever, far beyond the bastard's gaze.

But! The whole REALM INFINITE felt it? When that... that hissing, acidic, malicious undertone? SLAMS back and away, like somebody's knocked a parasite from their backs. Replaced by coolness and starlight. Delicate balance and blood on your teeth. The pounding in your chest of HOPE.

It flutters so small across their backs, inside their chests. Washing away the old.

The King... feels tiny. Young.

.......what are they doing? Running like this. Hiding away like that will change anything. How long... when did...

There are so many of them now. A veritable army of souls, of all Ages and People's. Every armor and crest imaginable. They'd been so.. so REPULSED by Pariah... nothing else had mattered but to get AWAY. Where even ARE they? What YEAR is it? Does any of that matter?

The King.

Their Obsessions whisper. Loyalty. Service. Protection. Honor. You have left you post! Abandoned your DUTY! What are you DOING!?

They are AGHAST. They turn around at once. The King! How could they have ABANDONED the King!? Who is guarding him if they are all HERE?!

Himself!?

(Yes. Danny is fine. He is eating the "Thank You for keeping us all from dying to whatever the FUCK that was!" tamales Paulina's mom pushed into his arms on his way back home. He didn't even try arguing. He made eye contact and knew he would lose.)

(Why does he feel like something really, really bothersome is headed his way?)

It's UNACCEPTABLE. Unthinkable! The King? Unguarded? Where assassination attempts and nefarious PLOTS could occur?! What if someone tried to steal his eggs!? Or attacked him while his exoskeleton was molting!? They aren't entirely sure which species he is yet, but there are SO MANY NEFARIOUS PLOTS OUT THERE!!

*panicked honor guards*

Just? Imagine becoming king. And thinking "well, aside from the skeleton army I have to figure out, at least I don't have to manage anybody!" Only to *WABAM!* your ENTIRE GHOST COURT shows up like a week later. Turns out they were hiding from your predecessor.

You have a whole ass honor gaurd. Who REFUSE TO LEAVE YOUR SIDE. You have Chefs. Who WILL cry if you send them away. The Literal Best In The Multiverse are all following you around... YOU, a RANDOM TEENAGE, with Excited Shoujo Sparkles in their eyes... because you punched a jackass really, REALLY hard.

There is no way to make this stop. Your friends are laughing at you. The interior decorator wants you to look at swatches. What are swatches and why are you being harrased by them at 1am, you wonder? If you are Mean(tm) they throw themselves upon the floor and blame themselves for their Wicked, Evil, King-Upseting Ways and you can't even TELL if your being played here.

It's like being bullied by house elves. Or Miette.

Your parents are too excited by all the New Research (at least the reveal went well?) To SAVE THEIR SON, and your sister is HELPING THE ENEMY (Traitor!), so now you're being bullied into eating vegetables and studying more.

Then? THEN!! WHO SHOWS UP?! Like... five WEEKS late?! The Justice League. Gee! GREAT RESPONSE TIME, GUYS! Reeeal snappy! But ya, JUST missed the guy!

.......YES HES BEING SARCASTIC!!!

@hdgnj @stealingyourbones

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt

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augusgus · 1 year

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how they take you from behind (m.)

pairings: childe, ayato, diluc, zhongli, alhaitham x fem!reader

tags: sex against a wall, doggy, <3lewd handholding<3, praise and a bit of degradation, marking, a bit of possessiveness, hints of dumbification, manhandling, hints of strength kink, creampie, breeding kink, spanking

a/n: pussy so good that alhaitham go stupid

☆ CHILDE ☆

grips you by your wrists and pins them against the wall, caging you in with his whole body. You can feel his breath against your neck as he rests his forehead on your shoulder - and if he grazes his teeth over your skin, sucking and biting bruise after bruise into it, then that's on you for squirming against him so adorably every time his hips meet your ass in a deep thrust. You know he's close when his moans come more frequently, interrupted only by a low chuckle as one hand wanders up to caress your throat. It's a subtle reminder of who you belong to. Of who's fucking that sweet little pussy until your knees turn to jelly and only his body pressing you against the wall and his hold around your wrist is keeping you up on your legs.

"C'mon, baby, don't quit on me just yet. You can do it one more time, no? Cum for me?"

☆ AYATO ☆

you've long lost the strength in your arms to keep you propped up, upper body flush against the sheets while Ayato relentlessly pounds into your tight hole. You don't know how long you've been at it by now but you see the flush covering his pale skin and the drops of sweat forming at his temple as he's leaning over you, hands firmly planted to both sides of your shoulders. He looks down at you and his lips quirk up to a small smile at the glassy look in your eyes. He loves how good you are for him, how obedient. The way you just take whatever he decides to give to you, always so eager for his approval. Small whimpers leave your opened mouth when one big hand comes to stroke your hair.

"Mhm, just like that, darling. Look at that drooly face of yours, so pretty for me, so dumb."

☆ DILUC ☆

his eyebrows furrow when you clench around him so tightly. He can't help the deep groan that rumbles through his chest, you just feel so good, so right wrapped around him all hot and snug and wet like this, the feel of your body soft under his calloused fingers. His sound vibrates through you with the way he has his arm wrapped around your waist, pressing your back tightly against his chest and pushing you down onto his every thrust. Making you feel him. You whimper, and tears prickle in your eyes at the strength behind his movements. Rough fingers digging into your shuddering side, his grip becomes almost bruising once he unravels - the warm cum flooding your hole pushing you over the edge.

"S' sweet, yeah? Take me so well! Gonna give you what you want, so don't spill anything."

☆ ZHONGLI ☆

he considers himself to be quite adept at restraining himself, not wanting to break his very much human lover with raw power - but when he sees you like this, ass up and wide eyes begging to be bred, he has to momentarily fight back his instincts to push in deep and mount you on his cock properly. Leaning over your body, he instead intertwines his bigger hands with yours, thumb caressing the soft skin. A show of intimacy. But also to keep you down, pressed against the sheets, so he can fuck into you without you squirming away from him. He feels like he might lose his mind if this goes on, growls slipping through when your soft moans don't stop as you push up against him, cumming around his cock with silent pleas.

"Still with me, dear? Oh? Begging for more already?"

☆ ALHAITHAM ☆

papers shuffle and fall to the ground when he firmly pushes your front against his desk. His hand presses down between your shoulders, keeping you there to try and regain at least a modicum of control, but the teasing arch of your back and tight squeeze around his cock steadily make him lose his composure. A quiet scoff leaves his mouth, palm smoothing over the curve of your ass, your waist, before roughly gripping you by the hips. He's usually so collected, above most irrational inclinations and breakings in logic, but somehow between your legs his brain refuses to function properly. His hand squeezes you once before coming down onto the skin of your ass with a loud smack, rubbing over the sting afterwards.

"Hm? Did you say something? I couldn't make it out among your babbling. Speak up next time."

Do consider leaving feedback or a reblog if you enjoyed it <3

. ☆ ☆ ☆ .

#genshin impact smut #childe smut #ayato smut #diluc smut #zhongli smut #alhaitham smut #genshin smut #tartaglia smut #kamisato ayato smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x you #childe #ayato #diluc #zhongli #alhaitham

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galedekarios · 8 months

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seeing a post that basically confirmed the obvious disparity in content made me think more about a scene i would have liked to see with gale and that i've been thinking about for a while now.

i always felt a bit sad that his condition is so often treated as a joke by the fandom and to a lesser extent by the game itself. i always thought that this is partially down to the fact that we don't truly get so see gale actively be in pain due to his condition, other than brief glimpses and hints:

we do hear the urgency in his voice when he explains when and why he needs an artefact and the relief in his voice when the protag chooses to help him.

we see it, too, when he is afflicted by the arcane hunger condition:

we get glimpses of it when he consumes an artefact:

he mentions it, too, in his dialogues, but it's very much downplayed by gale or phrased in such a way that is meant to overplay it with humour, or perhaps even to distance himself from it by using metaphors:

that is until we actually get to see it through his eyes, if only for the briefest of moments:

*Its teeth, its claws, it's unstoppable as it digs through and becomes part of you. And gods, it is ever-hungry...*

gale also has an idle animation where he--quite often--reaches up to touch the orb, perhaps because it flares with pain, like an old wound is wont to do:

(gif by @bladeofavernus)

from the last conversation we have with gale, and after catching all of these little moments of things he says or does with how the orb affects him, we learn that consuming the magic from artefacts no longer has any effect at all. the only solution that tara and he were able to find no longer works:

it would scare him and imbalance him, and it would finally destabilise the orb, make it more volatile.

but what happens in the game after that? the orb becoming volatile enough for the artefacts to no longer have an effect has no consequences at all: you are able to do the tiefling party, all quests in the underdark, the entirety of the grymforge, and, should you choose to do so, the entirety of the mountain pass and rosymorn monastery without an incident at all or any mention of the condition itself/any discomfort or fear it might cause.

there's no urgency here, no follow-up, to what the narrative set up... and then we meet deus ex elminster and the orb is stabilised, and the urgency that came before literally is handwaved out of existence.

what i would have liked instead to happen--or at least to bridge the gap between the artefacts no longer working and elminster stabilising it to be used on mystra's behalf--is the following:

i think it would have been nice to have a scene with gale where we do get to see--on a much smaller scale--him losing control over the orb, have the protag and the companions see what he is trying desperately to keep contained within himself, what gnaws at him, what continues to haunt him.

it could happen perhaps after a particular gruelling and intense fight--and there are enough of that in the underdark and at the mountain pass. it could have been a ! conversation, providing both friendship and romance content.

have the orb act up after expending so much energy to manipulate the weave to the fullest of his abilities, have gale manage to reign it in, but barely, show that it takes a lot of power and effort for him to do so.

that it hurts, with none of gale's metaphors to hide behind or jokes to play it off.

have the audience truly see the gravity of what he is going through.

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 spoilers #i think it also would have made the scene with elminster and mystra's demands even more impactful than it already was #also i am a sucker for parallels but gale falling to his knees again and tav pulling him up again as on on-going motive makes me Feral #anyhow excuse the long meandering here #many thoughts #but my brain is literally soup rn #ch: gale dekarios #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #meta: mybg3 #long post for ts

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thisonehere · 4 months

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The Lin Kuei boys get jealous after you get flowers from another man

Mk1 Headkanons

C/w: Yandere tropes, jealousy, toxic relationship, G/n reader, mentions of violence, stalking, these men being unreasonable and irrational lol

Bi-Han

The Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei has never been affectionate, especially when it came to you. But while saying that, he hated the idea of someone else showing you affection or even making you happy. The idea of another (especially a man) putting a smile on your face, giving you a warm feeling inside, even making you laugh, burned him.

So when someone (Maybe some member of the Lin Kuei or even Johnny Cage) works up the courage to give you a nice bouquet, he rages.

You can feel his eyes burn a hole into the back of your head as you graciously receive the gift and thank the man.

You smile and giggle causing Bi-Han to shake with rage. The final straw was when he saw your face, or what was on your face. Blush, you were blushing. Bi-Han's mind begins to race. Why are you blushing? Does he make you happy? Happier than when you are with him? Did you prefer this man to him?

Without even thinking anymore he attacks the man, punching him so hard that his teeth are scattered all over the floor. He pummels him with no mercy and not a single sign of stopping. It takes you and a few other Lin Kuei to finally rip him off the poor man.

You drag him home but this isn't the end of it. "What is wrong with you?" "YOU and you whoring ways." before you know it, you're arguing, neither of you shows any sign of relenting. Soon the arguing turns into a screaming match, and things get so heated to the point that Bi-Han punches a wall leaving a massive dent.

Tears stream down your face as you yell at him to get out. For a moment his eyes soften and grow wide with hurt and shock, but immediately harden as he turns and slams the door behind him, basically breaking the door and the wall. Leaving you there alone crying.

Time passes, minutes become hours, hours become days, days, become weeks, and you and Bi-han haven't talked to each other. Whenever you see each other you quickly look away, refusing to even make eye contact with the man. You don't see it, but Bi-Han is hurt by this, but he buries it down and puts on his usually stern face.

Finally, it all ends one night when you hear someone knocking at your door. You open it to find Bi-Han, his cheeks are flushed and his eyes are puffy and red, he's trying his best to keep it together but it's obvious that he'll break at any second.

"I'm... Sorry." He forces out his mouth, this is something hard for him to do. He'd rather be fighting Liu Kang than be facing you right about now. "You mean so much to me, I don't want to lose you..." he admits.

He then gets onto his knees and prostrates himself before you. After a few moments, you sigh and let him back inside.

Kuai Liang

Kuai Liang has never hidden his love for you, he'd show it every chance he got. He'd buy you gifts and send you poems spouting his eternal devotion to you, and more stuff like that. He feels confident in this relationship and your feelings for him.

So when that man comes up to you and gives you flowers, he isn't the least bit jealous... well, that's what he wants to believe.

It bothers him the way you smile at receiving the gift, you laugh and even blush. What are you doing, he thinks to himself. Why are you acting like this? Does his gifts make you act this way? Aren't you happy with him? Isn't he enough for you?

He forces a smile onto his face and tries to retain his composure. He then finds the opportunity and interjects, saying something like you need to go because of an emergency.

Afterwards, he will do everything in his power to make you happy. Do you want flowers? Fine, he'll find the most beautiful and exotic ones the realms could offer. He'll make multiple gestures to display his affection, hoping that you'll return it.

But at the end of the day, it doesn't matter how many times you tell him you love him, he will see that bouquet of flowers that you still keep and jealousy and insecurity consume him.

One day, he'll see the flowers in the pot you specifically chose for it and just stare at them. Before he can even top and think, he grabs the pot and throws it to the ground. He stomps at it and even uses his power to burn it to ashes.

Of course, all this ruckus gets your attention and you rush in and find Kuai Liang hitting the ground where the flowers were. Its ground is broken and charged by his spontaneous and reckless actions.

"What are you doing?!" You shout, both confused and even scared by this. Kuai's head shoots up realizing you're in the room. "Y/n, I didn't...You...I... I'm sorry." He turns and rushes out of the room.

For the next few weeks, Kuai will avoid you at all costs. Too ashamed of himself to face you after what he did. Every time you try to talk to him he quickly gets away. You don't understand why he's acting like this, did you do something? Does he hate you?

Finally, you can corner him. You try to talk to him, ask him what's wrong. Kuai rushes past you and attempts to quickly get away from you, but he stops when he hears a sniffling noise. He turns and sees you crying. It was then he finally realised how much he was hurting you. He hated himself even more now, he was so busy thinking about himself that he didn't even stop to think about how his actions were affecting you.

He walks back up to you and holds you. "I-I'm sorry, I never meant to hurt you. Those flowers... they...it doesn't matter anymore. I love you." He says as he pulls you in and tightly holds you.

Tomas Vrbada

Tomas was and always has been insecure about the relationship. He's constantly scared that you'll one day leave him. You were the most beautiful and wonderful thing to happen to him, how could he not worry that things were too good to be true. It didn't help that he knew about all the others that desired you. He already lost his family, he couldn't lose you as well.

When you are offered flowers by that man, Tomas does everything he can to maintain his composure as you smile and laugh as you happily receive the gift. He watches as you continue your conversation with the man, he feels strange urges come over him. The urge to rip the flowers from out your hands and stomp them to pieces, the urge to beat the man to a bloody pulp, the urge to...what was happening to him?

Quickly he interjects into the conversation and insists that you have to go. You leave and Tomas tries to stop thinking about what just happened. But the way you are smiling at the bouquet so fondly it makes him go mad.

For the next few weeks nothing happens, Tomas seems off though. You ask what's wrong but he insists that everything is fine. So you don't think much about it, if Tomas wants to talk to you about it he will. And continue on with your daily routines...unaware that Tomas is following you.

Everywhere you go, he's too far behind. He keeps to the shadows, using powers to help him hide from you. He has to see everything you do, everywhere you go, every person you talk to. He loves you, but he can't seem to trust you for the life of him.

You realize something's wrong when Kuai comes to you and reveals that Tomas hasn't been fulfilling his tasks and duties. You immediately start to get concerned. He's been very distant lately, does this have anything to do with it? Why was he acting strange? Why won't he talk to you about it? You try to catch him before he leaves and talk to him. But seems to avoid you like the black plague and rushes out of the house.

You sigh and go on with the rest of your day. But since Kuai told you this news, you've seemed to become on edge for no reason. You become paranoid that someone is following you. As you make your way through your daily routine, you see the very same man who gave you the flowers and happily go to him and have a conversation.

Tomas watches you two talk and he feels an anger rise up in him. The way you two chatted so happily like you were in love, Tomas couldn't take it any more and spring from the shadows and confront you. "I-I can't believe you, was nothing we had special?!"

You didn't understand what was happening, Tomas suddenly appeared and he was yelling at you. Screaming at the man and chasing him away. He admits to following you and is grateful that he did, seeing how familiar you are with other men.

"Y-You were stalking me?" You suddenly yelled back. Hearing you say, Tomas realizes quickly how insane he was acting. His cheeks flush as his once confident form shrinks into an awkward one. "Oh gods, Y/n, I'm so sorry. I-" but before he can finish, you turn your back on him and you walk away, leaving him there all alone.

Weeks go by as you avoid him, you don't come home, and you don't speak Kuai either, it's like you disappeared off the face of the planet. These were some of the loneliest weeks Tomas has ever experienced in his life, he couldn't eat he could sleep, and he couldn't even build up the strength to get out of bed. What was even the point? Without you, life didn't have much meaning.

You finally build up the courage and come back home, hoping for some closure and to settle things. Tomas immediately swings open the door and ushers you inside. He is quick to start apologizing, he is in a desperate state. He even starts to break down and cry.

This pathetic display moves you, you admit that you missed him. You embrace each other and cry in each other's arms. "I'm so sorry, please don't leave me," he begs.

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erideights · 8 months

Text

Little pieces here and there (3)

Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)

Chapters: one, two, four, five

Word Count: around 2K again.

Warnings: minimum context of the arlong park part of the story (background), MUTUAL FLIRTING, forbiden pinning of them both, Buggy has his body back *wiggling eyebrows*, sexy times

A/N: devil works hard but i'm working harder, every 5 free min i have from work/class/practices i'm writing on my phone, i'ts actually insane and i love it (ROAD TO CHAPTER 4?? If you like this one and want the next one, please let me know!)

Oh, he was mad. He was really mad.

Maybe "sexually frustrated" was a way more accurate term given the circumstances but the feeling was so strong, so visceral, he was sure he was reaching a point where jumping to the sea to end that agony -even if a bit exaggerated, like him always, everywhere and for everything- was justified.

Somewhere in Arlong Park, Buggy could feel the boner pressing his pants, demanding to be satisfied; dirty talk was one of his true passions and when (Y/N) played that card on him, being capable of picturing himself with her on his lap, that damn woman so -actually- close to his face in that moment he was already tasting her lips, her low, smooth voice driving him insane, he could not help it, but get turned on so easily and so strong is been hours, and he's still mad, incapable of stop thinking about that.

That is, perhaps, the reason he feels relief as soon as the sun rises and Usopp is back on the helm again, asking for directions as Buggy, in fact, demands to go faster. Like instead of slicing and dicing his body, his power could control the wind that propelled the boat or the force of the waves against the hull.

(Y/N) ran away just after such a -even if brief- conversation. She may have broken his balls with that dirty trick, but she was equally a victim of her own game. She knew what to say to push Buggy and leave him so stunned -to speak- that the poor clown didn't have the chance to fight back at that moment, not without his body to help him keep her in that kitchen, lift her up on the counter, force her to back down, regret even thinking she could do that to him, and then, only then, yes, fuck her until she wakes up the rest of her little and - according to him - pathetic crew with her moans.

Or so the girl imagined, leaning against the door of her room, eyes closed, heart slightly racing, fighting the temptation to lie down on the bed and masturbate thinking about what had just happened.

Which included him. Him!! What the hell, was she actually losing her mind? All that damn flirting had really gotten into her, for fucks sake, because regardless of her finding him quite interesting when they met, this attraction was something else.

Lately everything around her was something else. Did she really think through the decision of leaving her mercenary life behind and follow those kids to the Grand Line? Did she really think through the decision of flirting back with a psychopath clown?

Because in the end it's just that, right? Flirting. Was nothing else, is nothing else, and will be nothing else. She doesn’t want it to be something more, that's for sure; there's no need for unnecessary complications and extra headaches. In the meantime, it's fun, a bit of a backfire kind of situation, a bit -sexually- frustrating, but fun.

After a good ol' resting night and already some hours into the new day, (Y/N) notices that it's been a lot, since their encounter in the kitchen to be precise, that Buggy not only doesn't flirt with her, but doesn't talk that much or even look at her as amazed as before. Of course, he is, also, way less annoying, which Zoro subtly points out clearly pleased with how calm, nice and silent this morning is.

At some point she shakes her head, knowing, or at least guessing, the reason for this behavior, so she decides to check no one's around and the rudder is locked in the right direction, and then goes to where the bag with his head is, closed probably by the sniper when he got the last indications he needed from him. She opens it, lowering it until the clown's head is free on top of that barrel.

"How are you doing, Bugs?" she starts with a funny little smile, looking intently at him as she leans her back forward to leave her face level with his. "It's been hours I don't hear your raspy voice, I'm starting to miss it."

Silence. Absolute indifference besides the sidelong glance he gives her because let's face it, Buggy is annoyingly proud, extremely, exaggeratedly, but he loves attention. He likes nothing more than receiving it, no matter where, when, and from who, and she could see it as soon as they met.

"Also your silly nicknames for me" She grants, giving in. She would also be mad as hell if someone leaves her as horny as she knew she left him, so she doesn't have any problem being the one to start the tug-war this time.

"Already tired of the shidiots?" He finally asks, almost drily, after a minute; now he is the one to play difficult, huh? "No wonder, they don't even know where to start being pirates."

"Oh, of course, because no one compares to the famous Buggy The Clown, the colorful nightmare or the East Blue." Playful, she retreats a bit, resting her hip in the barrel, arms crossed over her chest.

"Quit the sarcasm doll, you know I'm right." Well, he was, in fact, right. None of them had real experience in the whole i-wanna-become-a-pirate thing, still, they were doing pretty good to be newbies. She was quite proud of them.

"I cannot wait to have my body back" he then murmurs, adding before she could say anything else about her new friends. "To do what?" She asks, you know, like she didn't know.

"Take a guess"

"Recover your spotlight? Find a new crew and a way to enter the Grand Line to go search the One Piece and be the king of the pirates?" (Y/N) mocks, clearly enjoying being the annoying one this time.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah'' Buggy rolls his eyes, scoffing. ''All that, but not before making you regret what you did last night." To that accusation she gasps, resting her right hand over her chest "What did I do last night?"

The clown falls silent again, but his mood is completely different. Right now he's not pissed off, it's obvious that this time, instead of flirting with her in a casual and natural way, he’s thinking what to say, choosing carefully his words to return a fraction of the effect she had on him hours ago.

His eyes darken, and his voice goes octanes lower and raspier. "Sweetheart, there will be no possible escape from what I plan to do with you. At the slightest opportunity I will make you cum on me so many times you will be the one to find the One Piece without needing to go to the Grand Line, but first…'' He pauses, breathes, and lets it go calmly, like the intimidating, psychopathic calculator she saw at the circus and not that flirty cartoonish version she got to know on the ship. ''you will beg for it."

She knows she shouldn't surrender to this type of tease, but she also can't and doesn't want to avoid it. Getting heavily carried away, without thinking about it twice, one of the girl's hands slides to the back of his neck, slipping under the bandana, and tugs his hair aggressively as she leans in again to speak close to his face. He grunts in pure satisfaction, closing his eyes for a second. Of course (Y/N) is, once again, taking advantage of the fact that he cannot defend himself no being more than a head, and the fact is that he enjoys like a condemned bastard those small but intense gestures the girl has given him since they met at the circus.

He can't wait to break a woman like her. And oh, he will.

"Are you sure about that?" Hearing distant steps, someone from the crew coming out on deck and climbing the stairs, she gets some distance from him, acting naturally, closing the bag again around his head. "My expectations just skyrocketed, I hope you don't disappoint."

By the end of the day, the Konomi Islands begin to appear on the horizon, and as soon as they set foot on them, shits get really serious. The situation of the poor people who live there is heartbreaking, so for two days, no one dares to make a single joke, Luffy's usual energy and bubbly positivity is nowhere to be seen, and of course, the interactions of (Y/N) and Buggy are reduced to = 0. The clown's head is no longer of any real use to them, and it’s poor Sanji, the new recruit, who’s carrying it around just in case.

At least until they reach Arlong Park.

Again, (Y/N) is not exactly the type of mercenary expert in martial arts and although she knows how to defend herself, fighting like Zoro or Sanji is, in few words, impossible. Her only advantage is being very, very fast, and knowing how to use the scenery to her advantage, so it doesn't take long for her to hide here and there among the different tents and attractions in the area to get rid of the most straggler fishmen, with a knife she got long ago during one of her jobs, capable of cutting their tough skin easily.

Everything happens so fast and is so chaotic that apart from some screams and blows in the background and having seen Usopp running towards the forest, (Y/N) is completely unaware of what is happening in the main complex.

A strong pull on her left arm activates her flight or fight response as one last fish falls dead to the ground in front of her. Raising the knife, in a quick movement, she tries to defend herself by aiming at the stranger's neck, although in vain; a pair of lips whose red has already been worn for days impact against hers, stealing her breath, a small moan escaping her. Eyes wide open, she barely registers the blurry color of Buggy's nose when two strong hands squeeze her hips as if the life of the clown depended on it, pushing the girl against the wall of the building behind them, cornering her without any type of delicacy.

She hadn't heard from him since they reached the island. Hell, she didn't even know he had got his full body back and was already so close to it that air was unable to pass between each other.

Of course, the moment the clown's head joined the rest of himself -the feeling much better than he remembered- he fucked off his captors and decided to flee. Not before making a vital stop along the way.

The ideas about how to proceed with her once he was whole were very, very different in his wild fantasies, but when he saw the girl's back, he knew that the only thing that would -partially- calm his yearning would be to kiss her before disappearing as fast as possible. To taste her lips, to feel her warmth.

Still not recovered from the shock of the kiss, Y/N doesn't remove the knife from the clown's neck, but he couldn't care less; quite the opposite. He is so turned on and waited so much -again, exaggerated- for this he doesn't know yet how he will be able to break the kiss, take distance from her, and run away.

Passionately carried away, moved by his most primitive instincts, Buggy sneaks one of his legs between hers, pressing in between them as Y/N inhales through her nose and her free hand flies to his vest, pulling it a little.

It wasn't the time, nor the place, to think about fucking that asshole, but damn, after all the teasing and the tension and the adrenaline of the fight--

And just when she starts fully giving in to him, he retreats just enough, panting a bit, and looks at her now red, stained lips, eyes darkened and full of lust. Just like hers.

"Hate to leave you like this sweetheart but I have things to do and places to go. I don't want people relating me to Arlong, I would hate the bad press on my persona." He whispers, cracking his usual cruel, playful smirk when he finally puts some distance between each other.

‘’It's time to exit stage left.’’ Buggy adds, theatrically raising both hands in the air. ‘’I promise I’ll see you around.’’

And like this, he stars running away again. Where? She doesn't know, or even guess at this moment, too busy registering the kiss in her memory, the way his lips felt on hers, how his nose pressed her cheek the entire time, or his hands grabbed onto her for dear life.

Bastard.

''You better'', she whispers to herself.

#buggy x reader #buggy the clown #buggy one piece #buggy the clown fanfiction #buggy x you #op buggy #one piece live action #one piece x reader #captain buggy

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mvybanks · 1 year

Note

JJ maybank x reader when she tells him she loves him but he can’t say it back until she gets hurt really bad

the one where jj is scared of love

a/n: hii, hope you like it!

warnings: drowning

my masterlist

“i love you”

probably the three most powerful words you’ve ever said and the ones that bring you immense pain.

it’s been three days since you’ve told jj how you feel about him. you knew that it was a long shot, he’s your best friend and why would he say it back? but what hurt you the most was his answer.

“no, you don’t,” he chuckled humorlessly, “don’t say shit you don’t mean.”

how could he ever think that you don’t love him? your best friend, your person, the one that knows you like no one does. of course you love him. but he doesn’t think the same.

you’re perfect, you’re sweet and kind, you look at him as if he hung up the stars in the sky, why would you ever love him? he’s broken, impulsive, unreliable. that’s what he thinks of him and if you know him like he knows you, then you must acknowledge those things about him too.

therefore, if you didn’t mean those words then what was the point in saying them back, right? it’s painfully obvious to anyone how in love jj is with you. he’d do absolutely anything just for you and he would protect you with his own life if it ever came to it.

that day ended in a fight, one that was inevitable.

“why would i ever say i love you if i didn’t mean it?” your voice slightly raising as you couldn’t believe his words.

“you don’t! and stop saying it!”

“i love you, jj! why would i ever lie about that?” at that point you were already crying, confusion and rejection were written all over your face. he wanted to take you in his arms and apologize so bad, but you deserve better. you deserve someone that can give you everything you want and it’s not him.

it was foolish of him to not think that he is everything you want and need.

“i can’t talk to you right now,” he said, storming off.

and you didn’t. for three days.

today, you decided to clear your head going surfing. maybe the wind mixed with the salty air would help your heartache, or maybe you hope to see your favorite boy on the beach.

well, you were at least right on one thing: he’s here, but he hasn’t seen you yet. you soon realize that not even surfing can cure your aching heart. you surf wave after wave, your mind racing with the images of that night. you try to distract yourself, to focus on the water, the feeling of the wind in your hair, but nothing works. your inattention shows when you suddenly lose your balance, one of the biggest waves you’ve ever seen taking you as you breathe so much water that your vision gets blurry and your lungs give out.

jj was sitting on the sand, looking at the ocean in front of him, when he noticed you. not being able to talk to you in the past couple of days has been rough on him too. he can barely breathe without you and seeing you there in front of him again made his heart skip a beat, that’s how much he’s missed you.

when he saw you falling off your board, he got up so quickly that he almost lost his balance as well, his legs running to you while he called out your name over and over again, but you couldn’t hear him.

now he’s got you in his arms, your body limp against his chest. he gently lays you on the sand and he can’t stop the tears falling from his eyes. his hands fall on your chest, pressing down rhythmically with the sound of his heart, stopping his movements to breathe into your mouth after a couple of beats.

“fuck!” he exclaims when he realizes that you’re still not breathing, “breathe, baby, please!”

he won’t let that fight be the last memory he has of you, there’s absolutely no way he’s going to let you go in front of his eyes. he still hasn’t told you that he’s an idiot and that he loves you, he can’t let you leave him like that.

“wake up! yell at me, tell me you hate me or tell me that you love me again, let me tell you that i love you, please, just wake up!”

he punches your chest this time and your lungs finally start working again as you cough out all the water that was resting in them. you feel a hand on your back, stroking it while you’re bent on your side and trying to take deep breaths.

“that’s it, take it easy,” as much beaten up you are, you could recognize that voice anywhere, “it’s okay, easy.”

you let yourself fall on your back again and look up at the tear-stained face in front of you.

“hey,” your throat is sore and your voice’s hoarse as you speak but you still try to give him a weak smile.

“hey,” he grins down at you, smoothing your hair away from your face, “scared the hell out of me there.”

you close your eyes at his touch, so comforting and gentle you almost cry. then, one second you’re lying on your back, the next you find yourself in your best friend’s arms, hugging you so close to his chest you can hear his thumping heart.

“i’m so sorry,” he sniffles, “i love you, baby. i love you so much, i’m sorry.”

he’s crying again and you have to twist your neck to look up at him, your hand cradling his cheek while his forehead gently touches yours.

“it’s okay. you don’t have to be sorry about anything,” you whisper on his lips and he swears he’s about to faint at the feeling, “will you let me say it?”

he nods, “please.”

“i love you, j,” and his lips don’t waste another second without touching yours.

#jj maybank #obx #outer banks #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x oc #jj maybank fanfiction

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forever--darling · 1 year

Text

the deepest sighs, the frankest shadows | neteyam x avatar!reader

summary: it's been a week since the consciousness transfer and there is more to adjust to than just your new body. for starters, the approaching threat of the sky people and the preparations for war. or, that in an attempt to bring some light back into the world, mo'at finally announced the future olo'eyktan's mate. choices are to be made as both relationships with the sully brothers are still unclear. somehow, though your heart is already made up, and what about the perfect soldier? it brings up the question: duty or love?

pairings: neteyam x avatar!reader

word count: 18.1k (this is insane)

warnings/notes: the end at last, smut, minors DNI (18+ please), unprotected sex, slight choking, mating, swearing, mention of sky people, confessions upon confessions, neteyam being stupid but also completely obsessed with you, loose ends tied up, brother reconciliation, angst (has to be), crying, fluff, happy ending?

series masterlist | one of us: part eight (finale) | requests are currently open for now

Please, let him be soft.

Neteyam Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan his whole life had been compared to gunmetal, sharp arrows, and serrated teeth of the most vicious predator in Pandora. He resembled all of those things because he was a warrior, the best soldier, and a hero to many — or at least he would be once he won this war and became Olo’eyktan. Many people compared him to many things; all deadly, crenulated, and power filled. It was very deserving to be spoken of so highly and to that degree because Neteyam didn’t lose a fight.

He didn’t falter or show weakness, and like any soldier, had the ability to push down his feelings until they were so small and minuscule they were barely there. He was built and trained up since he was no more than a child preparing for this future, this prophecy, and this battle against the sky people. Neteyam Sully was Toruk Makto’s eldest son and in turn the best-prepared soldier for the upcoming war.

Those who saw him as all those things refused to realize that he was also Na’vi, not made of steel or unbreakable shields, but of humanity. His humanity and ability to have feelings were shown a mere week before as he stood in the middle of the village, a limp body strewn along his arms. The perfect soldier then was not unwarpable or without weakness. Just like old, warn, and overused things, he had broke in front of everyone. He is no robot, no man without emotions as no leader should be without a strong heart. Fearless, improbable, and also not one of the eldest son’s traits because he very much had feared. Feared losing the very woman no one would have ever expected him to fall for. In that brief time, everyone saw that heroes hold just as much humanity, and more so heroes have the ability to break.

But, please let him be soft.

Neteyam Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan had shattered and then when it was all said and done, with nothing left to cry for, his emotions were packed up and sent away again. Without even being fixed, he returned to being the hero that held the entire world on his shoulders. Because even if you asked and begged, Eywa would tell you just as anyone else that the world needed him. His hope, his strength, his courage, his leadership, and his strength. The world needs everything and he will give it all, including his heart.

It was no longer yours, not since the consciousness transfer, not completely. You wanted nothing more than to go to him when you woke up. You wished for him to reveal that he was flawed and breakable and somehow felt immensely for you. You wanted the whole world to know he was soft and that he was yours. You wanted to kiss him, feel him, know that the two of you could now have it — all of it while you still could. In that brief moment of clarity with all the walls built up before they came crumbling down again. It was only a matter of time, a matter of solitude before the storm would come and before the enemy would come.

Suddenly, everything had aligned and life was no longer at your fingertips. It was no longer outside of a large metal box or a sleep away. It was right here, right in front of your face. You went asleep for the last time in your original form and when you woke up with Toruk Makto staring down at you, hand cradling your face, you knew you had made it to your true form. You made it to your reality, your existence.

It all was in your grasp and you would never let it go again. You stared up at Vitraya Ramunong’s mauve neuron rods and you realized that this was why she had sent you back. With tears kissing your cheeks, you realized she had granted you this silent prayer so he could be soft and he could be yours.

Neteyam would give them everything until he was nothing but a shell of himself, nothing but an imprint of dust. He would give and they would take it all, anything he could spare. Neteyam would give them everything so she gave him you.

You were there because of him.

If only you could tell him that. If you were only given a minute, a spare moment, to say how irrefutably in love with him you were. If only Eywa could prolong a spindle of time so that if anything were to happen either of you could go with touched lips and empty mouths. You could go without anything else to say.

Somehow though as soon as you were okay and back in good health, you realized that where gunmetal can warp and tarnish, it can also be repaired. Arrows could be glued and dull teeth, sharpened. What once was could be again and you grasped that over the next week. A week full of weaponry dispenses, battle practices, meetings upon meetings of planning routes, and combat groups. The conversation revolved around the sky people, the territory they had long since crossed, and their weaponry only. Everyone had nearly forgotten about your visit with Eywa, the consciousness transfer, and you and Neteyam.

If you weren’t practicing flying your Ikran and shooting your bow or locked in the grasps of Tuk and Kiri, you were talking strategies with Jake. Somehow he had noticed that after all your training and previous knowledge of humans, there was a warrior buried deep inside of you. You had become an asset to him despite the close loss. If you had a moment to spare, you were constantly in search of Neteyam, just begging the Great Mother for more than a passing glance or nod of acknowledgment.

If you managed to see one another, you both would momentarily freeze and just stare at one another almost painfully, so many words needing to be said. There were so many times when he would try to mouth something to you but it never got far because he was swept away in a matter of seconds. Neteyam was busier than you were, having become his father’s right-hand man and despite only being nineteen was promoted to one of the generals of the operation. If he wasn’t training, he was for laying his father’s orders. He was no longer soft or yours but the mighty warrior once again.

Then if he had any moment at all, Tsahik was dragging him away to discuss whatever was required of him for his courtship. That was another thing that had happened, Neteyam’s mate had been announced, proudly to the clan. Mo’at thought it would help with providing calmness to the people. That despite the alarms going off in everyone’s head that there was something to celebrate, the manhood of their future Olo’eyktan and his future wife.

Tsmandi Te Nätäkx Ayitul’ite — the finest young healer in the clan. She had been training with Mo’at for years, and somehow over the last six months, you hadn’t thought to see her as more than the Tsahik’s healer in training. You should have seen the signs and many reasons why she and Neteyam could be a perfect fit. She was intelligent, kind, and able to lead the people alongside him. Not to mention she was stunning with long wavy hair, a small curved nose, and perfect blue and ivory markings along her skin. She was the perfect choice for Tsahik and somehow at the news, it was hard to even hate her for it.

You wanted to. You wanted to hate her so bad but you knew that there was no point in it. No point in hating her when it was just as much out of her control as Neteyam’s. It wasn’t her fault that you had feelings for him or that despite most of the village realizing it that Mo’at continued to go forth with the arranged courtship anyway. It wasn’t her fault that Jake had actively noticed how his son felt about you and instead of stepping in or saying anything, he decided to stick his head in the sand and focus on the other problems that plagued the clan. Neytiri had tried to talk to her mother, to try and revert the match but despite her being the wife of Olo’eyktan, Mo’at still had say and control over the pairings. A pairing she didn’t see you fit for. They were to consummate their mateship and get married as soon as things slowed down with the sky people, possibly as soon as after the first battle and airstrike.

Of course, you had no idea what Neteyam was thinking or feeling because whenever you saw him, he was back to focusing on his duties, the weight everyone asked him to carry. It seemed even his own heart, soul, and suffering he was trying to manage. You would bear it, but it seemed he didn’t want you to.

A storm was coming and suddenly you had come to the conclusion that a moment would never be supplemented for you to be able to talk to Neteyam. The two of you were like the sun and the moon — revolving around one another, unable to touch and it didn’t matter how close you got, you would never meet. He was the sun, the source of your warmth, the ability for you to breathe. With such an effect to provide for everyone, came a price to pay. One that resembled a fleeting moment he shared with the moon at dusk and dawn because where he was the sun, he was the untouchable, uncurable, unfreeable. He wasn’t yours and because of the perfect soldier in him, he might never be.

“So, based on how they are approaching the village, we know they would invade from this direction. There are no other markings that are east of the village so there won’t be any of them over on that side. The only thing we have to worry about is them coming from the sky, which is where the group on the Ikrans will come in,” Jake was in the middle of the same spiel he had been going over for three days now with the same people: all of the riders and soldiers.

You found yourself glancing over past your eyelashes to Neteyam who stood on one side of Jake, as a right-hand man, and Lo’ak on the other. Even with his troublesome and risky behavior, he was still expected to fight and the sight of the two of them together now with faded green bruises and cuts shrunken down to small lines, you were unable to look away. You hadn’t spoken to Lo’ak yet about his proposal or the idea of you two mating because every spare moment was put towards Neteyam but where there was no conversation with Neteyam, it meant you weren’t able to have one with Lo’ak. He was getting antsy evident in the way his eyes found yours in a full room or he tried to catch you while you were alone after training. Somehow it hall had been avoided though.

“Neteyam and I will be with the airborne group,” Jake said then, his son’s name drawing your attention back to the importance of the meeting, “We will start here and fly there, waiting for a signal.”

“If you are a spotter you do not engage until you have to. We will take care of the first lines of fire and lead the attack,” Neteyam’s voice was serious as he glanced between the riders, the edge to his tone coinciding with that of a leader. His eyes flickered towards you but no longer than they had anyone else. You felt your stomach rise and fall just as quickly as he continued, “You’re spotters, you report, and that is all. When you see something, call it in, and then wait for further orders.”

Neteyam glanced around his father to Lo’ak who sent in a noticeable eye roll back. Jake knocked his elbow into the side of his youngest son and Lo'ak straightened up suddenly at the realization that his father had seen what he did in response to the future Olo’eyktan. A mutual understanding moved through the small crowd like a hush as Lo’ak nodded toward his father — everyone silently agreeing to listen to every word that Neteyam was saying.

This wasn’t another ‘what-if’ scenario or a hypothetical situation to use to prepare the people or yourselves. This was real and it was actually happening. Gone was the comfort that appeared with the ‘what-ifs’, a small understanding that no matter what was said or done they would remain as they were, a hypothetical situation. But now, things had inevitably changed. There was no putting this to sleep because it would still be the only thing thought about as soon as everyone left the room.

There was no going back to how things were; before the sky people, and their arrival. Ever since the night of your ceremony when Jake and Neteyam found them near the territory line, they were always there; not just in the forest slowly creeping closer and closer but in everyone’s minds. It was no longer a scenario but a possibility that would finally appear soon.

A few nights ago you had overheard Jake talking to Neytiri that if things begin to deter far in advance of the war, they should flee — protect their home for as long as they can but if it begins to go downhill, leave while they all still can. He had already advised many women and children to leave, and find shelter and solace within the mountains where he knew the technological advances could not operate. You were pondering how long it would take until he ordered everyone else to retreat, even the mightiest of warriors.

It was sure to happen because he wasn’t the same marine or Jake Sully he once was. The Toruk Makto had laid his reign to rest and now there was more at stake; his family. Before it was about honor and portraying a message about the quality of life. Many losses had occurred but for the greater cause of success. It seemed that even as the clan faced that same threat, Jake wasn’t as dedicated to the message, not if it meant losing the lives of many. He wouldn’t show it though, not to those still willing to lose their lives to protect their home. To protect their views, he would keep up the facade that he was the same leader he once was proud of.

“They’re coming and they aren’t going to stop unless we do something about it,” Jake said, a small hiss falling from his lips as he thought back to this long hard fight that had become his life, “They think that they can take whatever they want, but we have sent them this message before and we will do it again. That we won’t stop, not as long as they keep coming. We will fight. You will fly with me, your Olo'eyktan, and we will remind them that they can’t do this. They can’t take whatever they want while we’re still standing. So, prepare yourself, brothers and sisters, because they are coming, but they don’t realize that we’ll be ready!”

Cheers and hollers filled your ears as you looked around at the riders, spotters, and soldiers all soaking in every single word their brave leader had to offer. He had led them to victory once against the sky people and he would do it again. That was what all their faces said as they stared forward, with no moment to fear what could happen next or if they would even be alive to see that victory. His words shook you straight to your bones but you could only stare forward, in shock, as you took in the expressions of both of his sons. Lo’ak with one of his fists in the air, a grin was stretched across his face, almost satisfyingly as he thought about the violence that was soon to come. It was a look of vengeance, wanting and needing justice for all his people's pain.

Then there was Neteyam.

Please, let him be soft.

Strong, mighty warrior, Neteyam. He stood proudly, his hands on his hips, head tilted at the sight before him. Honorable future Olo’eyktan, Neteyam would follow his father to the ends of the world and would even let it take him if it meant he could save everyone else. He would sacrifice everything just to feel his father gushing with pride. That was who he was and suddenly like the worst realization, you knew it wouldn’t matter how much you wished for someone to just hear you, to let him be soft and be full of imperfections. You wished that he would walk away but that seemed like too big of an ask from you when the world needed him as much as it did.

Somehow his eyes found yours and his mighty statue faltered slightly under the weight of your gaze and your longingness. His lips curled slightly into a frown, one holding every emotion and every word you knew he wished he could say. That he felt for you in a way he didn’t for anyone else and that he could want you the way he did but it wouldn’t change anything. His look held so much admiration and softness, but even in it, you could see the harshness of reality — the one thing he could never say out loud. I can’t.

As if his proclamation meant nothing. As if losing you, or the fact that it had almost happened hadn’t done enough for him to leave his duties to the side. Like even though you were standing right there in front of him, everything he could want, he still couldn’t do this for you. He couldn’t go against what was expected of him at least not then, not with what was at risk. Suddenly as your heart constricted in your chest, his intense stare never leaving your trembling frame, it felt like you had been too stupid to fall under his spell. I see you. It suddenly had lost all meaning to your life.

As soon as Jake was done making his grand speech and the noise level had faded to a mere nothing, you found yourself sneaking out from the tent, beating the rush that was sure to follow. You felt his eyes drag over your back as you slipped out into the evening air, the sun beginning to set behind the tree line. A wind rippled along your skin, goosebumps being left in its wake as you approached your tent to leave your bow and chest guard.

The many voices of the rest of the riders and spotters filled the air as they began to exit from the tent. You hurried around the corner, eyes taking in the sudden dullness that seemed to have fallen over the area. The familiar dash of children was gone, instead, it was a mere memory as the village was now completely filled with soldiers, and riders, all decked out in armor and with weapons. The warmth that once was provided by the Omatikaya people had faded to a numbing fear that rattled everyone’s teeth.

Fear of the unknown, the fear of having to wait for the unknown. It was all that was on people’s minds and the days were no longer filled with meals, prayers, or times of celebration. In place of it, all was prepared for a war that could appear any day now. With everything, it felt like you hadn't been flirting with the possibility of death a few days prior or passed through the eye of Eywa. It was like you had never been human at all.

Somehow you integrated quickly, ideally, as if this was where you always were meant to be. It didn’t change the fact that every time you closed your eyes at night in your hut, you weren’t used to not having them open again in the link pod. It was the most significant adjustment, knowing you were no longer bouncing back and forth from one body to the other. You closed your eyes and opened them again in the morning with no interruption in between. That was your life now.

As you approached your tent, you heard the rushed footsteps from behind you as they bounced hurriedly across the dirt of the ground. You felt your heart pick up in your chest at the possibility of it being Neteyam but the feeling faded just as quickly as you heard the person call out to you.

“Y/N!” Lo’ak.

You sighed, peering over your shoulder, having should have known that it would be him over his older brother. Neteyam would never run after you like that. He was deliberate with even how he walked to protect his precious image from the rest of the people and he needed to seem calm and collected. Lo’ak’s face scattered in paint of orange and green, meaning he was probably about to go out on a spotting run and was just trying to catch you before. A quick conversation you hoped, as you still hadn’t had the opportunity to tell him you couldn’t accept his proposal.

“What, Lo’ak?” you asked, turning back to your tent, slipping inside.

"Wow," he followed, surprise forming on his face as he watched you place your bow down on the table, “Really, you’re not going to rush off this time?”

He had a point as for days you had been so concentrated on getting Neteyam alone, you were practically running at the sight of Lo’ak and his reckless confession that had left you backed up in a corner. A corner you now had to face head-on because what once was a hypothetical scenario had become your life overnight. You like a mighty soldier came out on the other side and now your future lay before you bare of any plans or decisions.

You were so blinded by the love you felt deep within your chest, you hadn’t thought any further than the way it had wholly consumed you. There was that word again, consumed. Consumption. Almost as if Neteyam’s love was water that would cure the dire thirst that had overtaken your lonely soul. Somehow the dire need had taken over every other physiological ask of your body.

Lo’ak had not been a priority but how could he have been when this obsession had once again become a “will they, won’t they” scenario.

“Y/N,” your name fell from his lips like the softest touch and you felt the recoil of your heart back into your chest, “If you plan to make a break for it I am not going to just let you go this time. Frankly, if you try to run off, I am just going to go after you and I think you remember that it is quite easy for me to catch you.”

You sent him a narrowed look over your shoulder before you busied yourself again with removing the chest guard as well as the knife strapped to your waist, “You never stop do you? With the flirting?”

“Well why would I ever stop when I get to see that look on your face every time I do it,” he chuckled, eyes flickering over the fierce glare and the furrow in your brow that matched the same one you once had when you were human. Even though you now stood only a few inches shorter than him and with ivory-dotted skin, you still were so much like the you he once knew, all starting from the animated expressions that coated your face in life.

He reached forward his thumb brushing over the folded skin, “The crinkle right above your nose only ever shows up when you’re annoyed or angry. And you’re cute when you’re annoyed.”

You smacked his hand away and sighed loudly not finding his affection welcoming in the slightest with the current circumstances at hand; the sky people, the guarantee of war, the possibility that any of them could die, the fact that he was still waiting for you to accept his ask to be his mate, or that he knew very well how you and his brother felt about one another. His flirting didn’t feel right in any way at that moment.

“Can you stop that, just… what is it, Lo’ak?” you sighed, rubbing the furrow he had been talking about seconds ago. You hoped it would disappear under your fingers, smoothing back to normal to keep him from feeling any more satisfaction. He knew your expressions and feelings inside and out, filling you with the worst dread, “Why are you here?”

“We need to talk,” he shrugged, casually as if the conversation he was hoping to have was just that but you knew better. Based on the glint in his eyes and the sly smile, you knew that nothing was casual at all about it and that with the charm laid on thick, he finally once again had you in that corner.

“Lo’ak…”

“No, I am not letting you walk away from this again. This can’t go on any longer,” he said, voice lowering as his hand extended forward as if it was going to touch you but it stopped mid-air due to the way your eyes hastily followed it. It fell back down to his side and you instantly felt guilty about it.

His mouth parted then as if he was going to say something else but you stepped forward, practically begging him not to, “Lo’ak, stop."

“Y/N,” he warned.

“Don’t say another word,” you professed, taking a step back away from him, “Not about this. Everything I said that night remains true and I haven’t changed my mind. I won’t let you do this, I can’t. I will not hold you back and diminish your chances of falling in love.”

“Y/N—”

“No!” you shouted then, feeling your shoulders shake at the exasperation of the word, “We can’t. You deserve better Lo’ak and I deserve better. Marriage and mating are not some solution so you don’t end up alone. I would rather be alone than become something you’ll resent. I won’t do that to myself.”

“You’re right,” he said, his words ringing out but muffled by the intense panic you felt as soon as his voice filled your ears.

“No, Lo’ak—”

“Y/N!” he raised his voice as both hands took your shoulders firmly. Shaking you lightly, your frantic eyes found his, finally flickering up from where you had been staring at the ground. You were met with a soft smile so loving and kind as a deep chuckle escaped from his mouth, “I said you’re right.”

“What?” your ears flattened slightly in shock as your eyes widened.

He laughed again, thumbs beginning to rub circles into the inside of your arms, finding the most amusement from the look on your face. “Look, I love you. I do, but not enough, and surely not as I should. Watching you and Neteyam this week, I realized that how I feel about you can’t compare in the slightest. And expectations or logistics of the future put aside, it would be wrong of me to make you settle for someone who doesn’t look at you the way he does. You deserve more than what I can give you and I am sorry I didn’t realize it earlier.”

The look hadn’t faded from your face, instead, it only deepend, your hands finding his arms, able to feel the warmth of his skin under your fingertips, “Really?”

“Yes,” he chuckled, “Plus, do you really think I want to be with a girl who would rather have my brother. No thanks.”

Your heart clenched in your chest, twisting and turning almost like you were about to be sick even though the look on his face resembled only amusement and laughter. Like his own joke was too funny not to laugh at himself. Your grip on his arms tightened unexpectedly, “I’m—”

“Shut up,” he cut you off, eyes narrowing at the way you were going to profusely apologize for something that had been completely out of your control the moment you had met Neteyam. Lo’ak even noticed it the first night, how you looked at his older brother like he had hung the stars. Even when he was less than welcoming during that first meeting, you saw the world in his eyes. “I’m fucking with you. It’s fine.”

“Is it?” you asked, hesitantly.

“Yes.”

You weren't convinced evident in the way your gaze fell back to the ground, not fully able to meet his eyes from the shame and guilt that was eating away at you. You had hurt him and led him on out of fear and it was inexcusable. With Lo'ak though, when it came to you he was always quick to forgive. Shown in the way, his fingers wrapped around your chin, lifting your head so your eyes once again met his.

“I have been second to Neteyam my whole life in everything and I don’t think I could go through with being the person you’d settle for just because you couldn’t have him. You were always right about that, how we shouldn’t choose to be with someone to settle. If we had, I think it would’ve killed me. We would have truly been miserable,” he admitted sadly with a solemn smile overtaking his features.

You had felt your eyes well up at his words, at the pain that had decorated his face in the form of worried lines and battered scars. He was right, just as you had been a week ago and had been every day since. The two of you would have been miserable but it didn’t deny the sudden sadness that formed. The grief that had formed for your friendship that might just never be the same and the love you swore you could have felt for the Sully son in another life. In this existence, you weren’t meant for one another and your souls would never coincide but possibly in another life and another world they would have.

“I want you to know I was never angry with you that it was Neteyam you chose. Even with him getting everything, I could never be angry with you about that,” he squeezed your arms under his palms as he paused for a brief second before continuing, “The reason I was so upset was that I was afraid he was going to hurt you. I know my brother and I knew that duty comes first, it always would, so I figured Tsmandi would come first. But watching him this last week, watching him as we all almost lost you, I can see now that nothing will stop him from feeling how he does when it comes to you.”

You felt your breath hitch, the weight leaving your entire body as you stared up at Lo’ak in slight awe. Not a single ounce of annoyance or jealousy filled his face, no spitefulness. When he said he loved you, he was telling the truth and when he said that it couldn’t compare to Neteyam’s feelings it was said with so much courage. There was no anger there laced within his wide eyes, but so much reassurance.

“When you came here Neteyam was a soldier who carried his mighty sword on his back. Before I would have told you that without a doubt he would stick to his orders, and his duties as the firstborn but he’s not the same person anymore. He is more than our father’s perfect little soldier but our future Olo’eyktan. He has a strong heart. He’s fit to be a ruler and to lead the clan to victory. But most of all, a man with a strong heart doesn’t take orders from anyone.”

“No, stop that,” you denied, suddenly, his words too much. Your face fell as you thought back to the last few days ever since you woke up from the transfer in a haze, a desperate haze for Neteyam's attention. He was and always had been the soldier the world expected of him. “Don’t say things that aren’t true.”

“But it is true.”

He would give them everything. He wasn’t soft, and he wasn’t yours.

You shook your head and sniffled, “No.”

He was a king’s son and there was no room for love among duty. It was inevitable and Lo’ak’s words only drilled holes in the hope he had built up seconds before.

“Yes it is and you’re being stupid,” Lo’ak said then effortlessly and it stung as it slid in past your chest.

Your eyebrows knitted together again, “Lo’ak!”

“Well you are,” he laughed, shaking his head, “You’re being just as stupid as he is. You’re stupid and in complete denial. It’s like you don’t realize you hold his heart in your hands. His feelings for you aren’t going anywhere. Neteyam is a ruler, yes with no fear, but I never said that a king sometimes doesn’t need a little push here and there.”

There will come a ruler whose brow is laid in thorn, smeared with oil like David’s boy. He will tear your city down…

An English poet once wrote that “there is a tide in the affairs of men, which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.”

Neteyam never knew who this man was or what he did that made his life so damn significant. He just saw him as he was, a sky person that once lived hundreds of thousands of years ago, facing the same idealistic problems that seemed to also be consuming his world. No, the future Olo’eyktan couldn’t care less about William Shakespeare but more about what he said. There is a tide in the affairs of men. In reality, the saying meant more having come from his father, first told to the young boy when he was no more than ten years old. The marine himself had heard it from Norm not long after he had arrived on Pandora.

The famous line stuck with Jake after all these years and he then passed it on to his oldest son, who seemed he would need it one day. That evening, sitting in the dark tent, the newest crafted bead on his songchord being rubbed between his thumb and forefinger, that was all he could think about. There is a tide in the affairs of men, which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.

There was a possibility of violence and war soon approaching followed by a long line of grief and all he could think about was that damn poet’s line his father had told him time and time again the older he got. Neteyam sat near the doorway of the tent and peered out towards the darkness of the forest while the sound of his father’s voice faded in the background accompanied by the taking apart and putting back together of guns. One pulled apart sat at Neteyam’s feet but he had lost interest in the weapon long after the sun had set.

His mind drifted then to where it always seemed to end up, you. More specifically, the way you had looked at him during the meeting earlier that evening, the disbelief and the pain that had overtaken your face. The complete betrayal you felt as the days were fading away quickly, days where he was still free and not some other woman’s.

He had held you with your last dying breath and said the most intimate words anyone could say within the clan and yet, he stood there across the room acting as if they meant nothing. To him, it was the most significant thing he had done in his life, but in a minor lapse of judgment, he had let the rest of his responsibilities appear again and take away his attention. Where every day passed until he and Tsmandi would be asked to be mated, also was another day gone until the sky people attacked the village. It was just a matter of time which one would occur first.

He felt his disappointment in himself increase as well as a wave of anger at his lack of awareness. He already almost lost you once and Eywa couldn’t promise the two of you a lifetime together or years to come of oblivious bliss. Nothing was promised and he was sitting there wasting every second for a battle that very well could kill him.

“Neteyam,” the sound of Jake’s voice pulled him back into the present.

He was clutching the bead so tightly in between his fingers, it had slipped and the entire songchord had fallen onto the ground. He hadn’t even noticed the absence that was left within his grasp. Not bothering to pick it up, his eyes expectantly found his father’s. The gun he had been putting back together sat in his lap in pieces, but he had paused to get Neteyam’s attention. His brows were raised curiously and a small curl was starting to appear on his lips. A look that Neteyamw wasn’t quite sure he had seen before.

Jake then nodded towards the entrance of the tent, his ears flickering as he did so, “Go on.”

“What?” Neteyam asked, unsure if he had heard him correctly.

“Go on,” he repeated, nodding his head again, “If I know her as well as I think I do, she won’t wait forever.”

Neteyam’s eyes widened then, hands dangled across his knees as he tried to process the words he never thought he would hear but felt himself reveling in for moments on end. Brows furrowed slightly, he felt as if it had been too good to be true because there was certainly no way. “But Dad—”

“You’re a good warrior Neteaym,” Jake complimented as his hands began to fiddle with the weapon in his lap just as a sudden emotion appeared in his voice, “But you’re destined to be a ruler someday, to become the next Olo’eyktan. An Olo’eyktan makes decisions for himself. No fear.”

“No fear,” Neteyam repeated slowly, still unsure if any of it was real.

“Now, go. I will handle your grandmother.”

Jake’s final words were all the confirmation that Neteyam needed. Picking up his songchord and gripping it tightly in his palm, Neteyam rushed out of the tent, leaving the burdens and the ripped-apart gun behind. Able to feel the way the moon and the stars reflected across his skin in the dark, he couldn’t help but pause outside the tent and peer up at the sky. A soft smile began to pull at his lips and in that brief pause of time, he sent up the quietest whispers of gratitude to the Great Mother. Then as if the world had finally felt like it was going in the right direction, he tightened his hold around the songchord as a new sense of determination formed. It took hold around the base of his stomach, filling him with the greatest fire known to man; pertinacity.

With hurried steps, he made his way across the village, your tent in sight. He could see the dim lighting from the lantern inside and he felt himself holding his breath as he reached for the flap of it. What would you say when you saw him there practically groveling for forgiveness, for a chance to prove himself? How would he properly say in so many words that he was wrong and that it had always been you? It’s you. Even as the world was starting to cave in around him, it was you he thought about and dreamed about. It was you and he had been entirely stupid for so long.

He took a deep breath, fingers clutched around the fabric but as he went to pull it back, he was distracted by the sound of a loud whistle. It made his ears twitch and he found himself turning to locate the loud noise. His hand fell away from the tent as he found Lo’ak just a few feet away slowly approaching, his arms hanging loosely at his sides and a look on his face Neteyam couldn’t quite decipher. Some lingering yellow markings were still pressed along the younger brother’s temple and arms, but they were practically invisible in the dark. A week ago, Neteyam had only looked at Lo’ak with hatred and with his fists balled tightly together, a feeling that had never been there before when it came to his younger brother.

Now as they stood only a few feet from one another, in front of your tent, still having never addressed that night, Neteyam felt his stomach tighten again. Not only in guilt about what he had done but also in slight anger as his resentment and jealousy still lingered under the surface. Lo’ak had asked you to be his mate, and Neteyam still didn’t know what the outcome would be or what you had even decided to do. He refused to be in a room with Lo’ak unless it had something to do with the ongoing conflict with the sky people, so now standing there in the darkness of the village, there was an obvious amount of tension that still lingered.

Lo’ak nodded in the direction of the forest behind him, shrugging his shoulders as he did so, “You just missed her. I am sure you could still catch her though.”

Neteyam heard the words and slowly felt his stoic expression and rigid stature fade. His fists unclenched and his ears flickered curiously. His lips parted slowly, in surprise as he glanced from his younger brother to the forest practically calling his name, “Lo’ak—”

“You’re the better man,” he said, cutting him off and shrugging his shoulders as he did so, “You always were. I was just too stubborn to get out of your way.”

The future Olo’eyktan found himself shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe that his younger brother thought he was the only one at fault here. They both had been. Things had only fallen apart because of their indignation toward one another and their incessant need to push down all of their real feelings until they no longer felt as if they existed. It was something they both had gotten from their father and it had shown with how they chose to handle this whole situation, with violence.

“I have always been too hard on you, Lo’ak. It's unfair.”

The younger Sully laughed, his chest rumbling slightly almost as if he was trying to brush off all the seriousness that was forming, “It is what is expected of you. You should be hard on me because I need it. We’re not kids anymore Neteyam and I need to start taking responsibility for my own actions. I have been letting you do it for far too long. So please hear me and believe me when I say that I was wrong about this. I knew how you felt about her and even when I saw how she so obviously looked at you, I chose to ignore it.”

“You were doing what you thought was right, I can respect that,” Neteyam replied honestly, his eyes softening at the sight of the pained expression plastered across Lo’ak’s face.

“No, I was trying to be you.”

His brows furrowed at Lo’ak’s admission, lips curling slightly into a frown at the emphasis of the word you. Something that he never expected to hear. “What do you mean?”

“I was trying to be you. I thought I was protecting her… that I could protect her, but I’m not you. I was wrong, Neteyam because she never needed my protection. I was scared that you would hurt her, that somehow your duty, your need to put everyone else first would wreck everything. I was trying to protect her, but I can’t do that because I’m not you. I am not made to be a ruler.”

There is a tide in the affairs of men.

I am not you.

Neteyam felt his deep inhale get lodged within his chest at Lo’ak’s words, ripping what was left of the walls he had built up to pieces. Ears pulled tautly back, he stepped forward and found his hand reaching out to take a hold of his younger brother’s shoulder, “Lo’ak, it is a good thing. I wouldn’t want you to be me. I wouldn’t want you to carry these burdens. It’s suffocating.”

Lo’ak’s head fell slightly, almost like he was guilty he was the younger son, free of more responsibilities and expectations. Even though it had not been his choice, he felt guilty that Neteaym was the one who had his future completely planned out for him, that because of their birth order, his brother was unable to fully commit himself to you.

Neteyam squeezed his shoulder lightly, “I am glad it’s not you, Lo’ak. I am so relieved that you are who you are. I know the guilt you must feel but it’s not a weight you should waste time bearing. This wasn’t a choice you made and you need to let it go. Yes, you’re not me. You’re not a perfect little soldier, but believe me, it’s not a title worth having.”

The honest sentiment was strong as it settled deep within Lo’ak’s chest suddenly breaking through all the resentment that had been there for years. The outcast. The wrong brother. The mess up. It all no longer mattered as he stared at Neteyam because for years while he had been so busy trying to hate him and make his life harder, he failed to realize just how unlucky the firstborn really was.

It was never that Neteyam got everything he wanted but rather was given everything without a choice in the matter. Everything and everyone’s approval he hadn’t asked for. In exchange the pressure to be perfect, to do everything right, and to never disappoint. The reality that had been looming over them their whole lives was that Neteyam wasn’t the lucky son, not in the slightest, just the one that held the entire family and world in his hands.

It surely was a responsibility Lo’ak was relieved he would never have.

“I mean look what it has gotten me,” Neteyam said then, shame covering his face as he glanced over his shoulder at the tent, “I have hurt her. I have continuously hurt the only woman I have ever had feelings for.”

“Feelings?” Lo’ak asked, eyes narrowing as he observed the reaction that overtook his brother’s face from the question, “You love her then?”

It was a softness Lo'ak had never seen on his brother’s face before. It was like all worry and all weight had left him in a matter of seconds. What was left was a mere admiration for the woman who was sitting waiting in the woods. She had left to pray to Eywa, to ask for answers for her heartbreak that seemed to be inevitable but the answer was as clear as day and standing right in front of Lo’ak. It was the soft lift of the corners of Neteyam’s lips to the coruscated flash in his eyes.

“Y-Yes.”

Lo’ak nodded, slightly surprised that Neteyam finally admitted it but somehow not surprised by the response that finally confirmed everything. It had always been there under the surface. The answer to the very question he asked moments ago, but to actually hear it out loud was foreign.

“You should go,” Lo’ak said then, glancing briefly over his shoulder to the forest and the direction you had disappeared to, he could only assume to the spot Neteyam had introduced you to.

Neteyam’s face pinched together for a moment, brows furrowing as he tried to analyze Lo’ak’s expression and his sudden need to send him off into the forest. It was almost as if his younger brother couldn’t handle any more of the conversation. The younger Sully stepped back, putting some more space in between them.

As Neteyam was going to say something more, he was silenced quickly as Lo’ak raised his hands, “I am fine. It’s fine, really. I am just saying you shouldn’t waste any more time. You should go.”

He agreed silently and knew then that after everything that had happened; the tension, the arguments, that fight that broke out somehow this one conversation had healed all wounds. It had healed those very blows that had been sent to Neteyam’s chest and had brought the worst rage out of him. The betrayal he felt seeped away and somehow nothing was left but the forgiveness and understanding that clouded his mind. It was a reconciliation that had somehow seemed to fix all of the things from over the years of growing up under the same roof, always in competition, acting as if their father’s pride was something to be won.

Lo’ak for years had felt that he had always come second and that he would never be Neteyam. It wasn’t a disagreeable aspect anymore but rather something he could learn to see as understandable. He didn’t want to be Olo’eyktan, not really, and that came with all the standards laced within the title. For the first time in years, there was an understanding between the two, an acceptance of sorts and it all started and ended with you.

Neteyam slipped by Lo’ak, the confirmation of you being in the forest already guiding him to a certain place he was sure you'd ran off to. The only place either of you'd end up when it was this late and with dangers lurking around. It was the only spot either of you would wait for the other and it brought the most comfort when times were dire and destructive. There was no knowing what would fall upon the forest the next day or the day after. No guarantee of what would happen to the clan, to the village, to the people, and to those who were about to put their lives at risk for the entirety of their belief system.

Neteyam very well could die tomorrow and now suddenly all he could wish for was to have one night. One night where you could be his and he could be yours, completely, honestly with nothing else wedged between the two of you. He wished to have you, to feel your skin beneath his fingers, to memorize the way you would look up at him, and the way you would say his name. Most of all he just wanted you to promise him that it wasn’t too late. That he hadn’t fucked things up that bad.

He needed to hear that despite everything you loved him.

Just as his feet reached the tree line, Neteyam stopped at the sound of Lo’ak calling out to him again. Turning around, he found his younger brother sending him a proud smile, one that reached his eyes, not an ounce of sadness or disappointment to be shared between the two. “Just take care of her okay?”

A single nod was all that was expressed from the older Sully, the man who had fallen so irrevocably in love he couldn’t imagine doing anything else for the rest of whatever time he had left — take care of you was the only thing at the top of his list. Fuck the responsibilities. Fuck the arranged marriage or the expected mateship. Fuck the control his grandmother seemingly wanted over who his partner was going to be.

Jake’s words rang around in Neteyam's ears as he turned back towards the forest and stepped inside.

An Olo’eyktan makes decisions for himself. No fear.

He found himself suddenly picking up his pace, the wind brushing along his skin as he began to run. His knife clattered across his thigh from the holder around his waist colliding with his songchord as he brushed past the brush and tree branches. His eyes were set forward in the dark, the lush glow of the forest the only thing to guide him as he felt his lungs begin to burn. They burned for air as his legs began to ache. Sweat was forming along his brow but the only thing his mind was set on is getting to you.

No fear. He kept repeating it to himself over and over again. Simply, because he didn’t fear much. He never gave a second thought to what his father asked of him. Being a soldier and the talk of war never scared him somehow. He prepared his whole life to someday die in battle but you, somehow telling you how he felt was so much worse. The idea of actually admitting it out loud to you was the scariest thing he'd ever do. Letting himself fall for you was something that took more courage than he would ever care to admit. Because loving you meant he was going against the crown, the expectations, and the future wife that had been chosen for him. He was going against the prophecy that Mo’at had laid before him.

As he slowed near the familiar trees and mangled brush, it felt as if the Great Mother had another plan for him all along. Almost as if she had brought you back for him and him alone. There was a great plan, a future that would be laid out before him and he felt that Eywa was promising that you would be the one by his side.

He held his breath as he pushed the brush aside and stepped swiftly through the forest spotting you from beneath the trees. You stood near the base of the river, arms wrapped around yourself as you stared forward at the water, tracing the ripples with your eyes. Lips pursed, you shifted from side to side seemingly lost in your thoughts, so much so you didn’t hear his approaching steps. Neteyam stopped just a few feet away, allowing himself a few seconds to admire you, your side profile, and the way your hair fell effortlessly across your shoulders. The top half was pulled back out of your face and laced together in a small braid, leaving a few pieces to frame your face. Your smooth skin reflected the sheer lights of the water and he couldn’t help but trace the slope of your nose and the slight purse in your lips.

He hadn’t been this close to you since the night among the mauve tendrils, the night among the Tree of Souls where you collapsed in his arms. Where he had bared every pain that was painted across his soul to you. He could still picture the way your face was dosed with salty tears, aching and begging for him to understand. I trusted you. His pained words still echoed in his ears now but it seemed things had changed so much since that fateful night a week ago.

It was as if you were the one now who felt betrayed, heart twisting at the thought of him being with someone else. Entirely the same way he had felt when he had found out Lo’ak had asked you to be his mate. Except for the way you stared into the empty river, gaze void of any warmth he knew somehow you were feeling far worse than even he had.

Neteyam had known what it felt like to feel the one slipping through his grasp to another, he knew what it was like to feel so betrayed and heartbroken at the way reality messed with your perception. He had felt the wounds strike his being and somehow even with knowing all of that, he had bestowed it on you. A feeling he hadn’t wished to befall anyone had been passed off to you and the guilt was choking him.

A click of your tongue filtered in through his ears and as he took a brief step forward, your body turned in his direction. Instantly, you froze, surprised to find him standing there, eyes locked on you in the dark. His gaze shamelessly traced the shape of your body and you found yourself in silence watching him as he did so. Your heart had picked up in your chest as a heat of some sort started to pool in the base of your stomach due to how delicately it felt like he was tracing your skin. You hadn’t heard him approach and now to have him standing there before you after so long, it had filled you with so many emotions. So much love and so much pain as he was there in front of you, soon to belong to someone else.

He watched the glass form across your eyes as the pained expression filtered across your features. The obvious furrow of your brows and the twitch of your lips held his attention away from your smooth exposed skin. You were glued to your spot, the frustration pricking at the nerves of your body, filling you with a numbing rage at the sight of him. You had craved it for a week, needed it with every fiber of your being to see and talk to him. Days ago you needed him to promise you and reassure you that there was nothing to worry about. That Tsmandi would not be his and he would not be hers, but he never came. He never let those reassurances leave his tongue and now somehow the sight of him in the only spot that brought you tranquility felt poisonous. As if it all had become toxic.

You turned away from him then, arms tightening around your waist as you found solace in the appearance of the blue water rather than his gold eyes. A lump had formed in your throat and the painful bob of it left you trying to conceal the tears that were starting to well in your eyes. Tears of anger as he stepped closer, his gaze burning holes into the side of your head. His shoulder brushed yours softly as he let his stare drift from the side of your pinched face to the river before him, the sound of the waterfall sinking into his ears.

With his hands clasped behind his back, he smiled softly as he thought back to that night all those months ago when you sat at the bank underneath the stars for the first time. It was the first time he had ever told someone about the nightmares he barred on his back as well as the first time he had let himself acknowledge his feelings for you.

It felt as if the two of you had grown so much since then, aged at least five years instead of just the one. Somehow in a course of almost a year, he was no longer that delirious young boy, desperate for his father’s approval. No, he had become a strong warrior, skin coated in the toughest armor and a future of reign in his grasp. He felt like a true man as he stood next to you, a woman he wished to give his entire self to. He felt honorable and worthy and powerful. That was how you made him feel even when you wished to recoil from him, even when you wished to run and let the fear guide you away deep into the forest.

“It’s seemed like we have lived an entire life since the first time I brought you here,” he said suddenly, stare flickering back over to you, satisfied in the way your ears twitched and you turned your head slightly to him, his words practically guiding you back to him. “We were both so young and naive that night. It was the first time I felt you break through my resolve. It was then that I knew I was beginning to feel something for the girl who appeared in the forest. It was like you were a gift from Eywa herself.”

Your brows furrowed, lips forming into a frown as you looked over at him, to meet his eyes. The look in them took you by surprise and suddenly you found the anger ravaging you as you met his soft gaze. “You shouldn’t say things like that to me. It isn’t fair of you.”

He ignored your reply as well as the annoyance that dripped from your lips, “It was like you were sent here to save me.”

His hand dropped to his side and examined your expression as his pinky brushed delicately across the skin of your outer thigh, just below your hip bone. You sucked in a breath past your teeth and felt your hands tense around your body at the feeling of his warm touch and the satisfied smirk that appeared on his lips. A pang appeared in your chest and you felt the lump in your throat get larger. You glanced down at his hand as it glided across your hip bone again, while his tall looming body seemed to envelop your senses completely.

You granted yourself a moment to divulge in the feeling, to let it shoot to your core and the desire you felt for the man before you, the undesirable, the unattainable. But then you felt your body's hotness turn to rage as he took another step closer to you, his eyes half-lidded and scanning your face. You shook your head and found yourself hissing at him, your hand roughly pushing his away.

“Ftang (stop)!” you demanded, the warning in your voice void of any warmth as your eyes narrowed in his direction, a pained huff following from your parted lips, “What are you doing, Neteyam? Why are you here?”

“You know why.”

“No, I don't,” you said, sticking your hand out to keep him an arm's length away. If you were going to have a conversation you needed to have a clear mind to do it and you couldn't have a clear mind with him hovering over you.

“What, you don’t have some dinner or meeting tonight with your future wife to talk about wedding logistics?”

“No,” he said simply, refusing to step back even with your threatening gaze.

“What do you mean, no? You are to be married, yes?” you asked, suddenly confused as it was all the village had been able to talk about for the past week. It was the only topic of importance other than the sky people and the intended doom that would soon fall upon the land.

“I don’t wish to marry any woman unless it’s you,” he admitted, reaching up so his fingers ghost over your cheek. He brushed a piece of hair that was framing your face back behind your ear and you hated the flush that appeared on your face. He smiled as his eyes flickered down to your lips still parted in confusion.

His words hit you in the chest like a ton of bricks, words you had only ever thought you would have heard in your dreams. They were all you had wanted since the night he had come to you in the healing tent since he had cupped your cheek and whispered the very confession that had confirmed every feeling he had had.

He had barred his soul and for the last week, you had been left in the dust, left to contemplate your future before you. You watched him as he entertained the idea of mating with the chosen women for him, as he contemplated it to please the village and the people. You had been left in a spiral of pain wrenching and pulling at every will of yours to live while he had been squaring away every duty asked of him.

You shook your head, feeling the cringe of your lips as you reached up and shoved his hand away from you. You stepped back, lips quivering slightly as your eyes stared daggers into his, “No.”

“Yes,” he replied, trying to reach out for you again, confused by your sudden need to recoil from him.

“No,” you took another step back away from him, the twist of your lips matching the way your heart felt in your chest, “Ftang nga (stop that)! You’re being mean, Neteyam.”

His brows furrowed, standing tall as the small quiver of your lips held his attention, “What, how am I—”

“I waited for you,” you uttered indignantly, as the pained look in your eyes seemed to amplify, “For days, I waited. Waited for you to come to me and say something, anything. All I needed was some reassurance, hear something that confirmed I hadn’t wasted my time on you.”

“Y/N—”

His heart ached at your words and his guilt seemed to intensify as you only wished to push him away even further for the pain he had caused you. After everything, you felt so disgusted and hurt by the distance he had put between the two of you. He had been so caught up with his father, with planning for the attack, that he hadn’t even spared a single moment for you. A moment to express his feelings and reassure the anxieties that had been preying on your innocence for far too long.

“They announced your courtship with Ms. Tsmandi Te Nätäkx Ayitul’ite, the next Tsahik. I waited and you still didn’t come. You let me believe that you were going to marry her, that you once again would choose your duties over me. I waited for you,” you repeated, eyes welling torturously with tears as your breath was ripped from your throat.

His shoulders fell slightly, as the single phrase I waited for you seemed to hold just as much weight as your previous admission. The way I feel about you is consuming. Except where that one had actively repaired every damage he had ever felt like a precious oath, this one brought out nothing but dread in him.

As if those four words were a farewell and you would soon disappear from his sight, back into the forest where you had come from. Like the words were a confirmation that he was incapable of fixing what he had done, the hurt he had caused. He was standing before you offering to throw every caution to the wind, offering to risk it all; his reputation, his reign, his expectations, for you. It took him too long to have realized it but now that he had, a silent prayer was cast across his heart that it wouldn’t be too late.

“Tsap’alute si (I’m sorry),” he professed anguished as you seemed to only be pulling away from him, “I shouldn’t have kept you waiting. I should have come to you, talked to you, and told you everything that has been on my mind since the night in the healing tent. I was scared Y/N. I am still so fucking scared. I almost lost you. You collapsed in my arms, in my fucking arms and I—I can’t. I can’t bear the thought of it, especially now with the sky people closing in.”

“It’s not something you can guarantee, Neteyam,” you said, softly, staring intently up at him and the sudden vulnerability that was plastered across his features, “You can’t assure you’re going to protect me through this. This war is unpredictable and your protection can’t be promised.”

“It has to be,” he mumbled out, face pinched together and hand hung in the air, desperately trying to reach out to you, “Y/N, not even for a second, was I considering marrying Tsmandi. You need to know that. This week it was never my intention to blindside you or keep the whole thing from you. I never thought about it even if it were my duty. I couldn’t, not when my heart solely belongs to you."

“Neteyam,” his name fell from your tongue breathlessly but no other words followed.

“It’s always been you. From the moment I saw you in this very forest, cowering behind my baby sister as no more than a stranger.”

You shuddered, every desperation and need for him evident in the way you seemed to lean closer as if his words were the secret password to your being. Like he could put you back together simply by the way he looked at you alone and his sweet words. You stared up at him, so close to offering him what was left of the dying organ in your chest.

It was a lost hope and even as it anatomically was healthy enough, beating away in your chest, the phantom pain was strong and killing every will you had left. This man had played with your feelings, spun you around on his finger as he tried to decide whether he wanted you. You had stood by, letting his control over your feelings be something he could hold over you.

Somehow even with what he had put you through, the long excruciating week of tears and the fears of the unknown, you found yourself holding onto every single word he professed. You were giving in and the thought terrified you. It terrified you that somehow he would be convinced to forget about you, to leave you once again, in favor of his throne and the means of doing what was expected of him. You were cautious, cautious as you offered him everything you had left of yourself.

“You aren’t being fair,” you professed, your heart rate so loud it echoed in your ears as every last conscientious thought seemed to be escaping from you. Like at any moment you would be out of excuses and let him graciously take you.

“No, but I am not lying about how I feel either. I never have. Oel ngati kamele (I see you).”

Those three words seemed to bring you to reality. They hit you so hard, you felt you were back in that tent just before the consciousness transfer. He repeated them just as earnestly and desperately, needing you to believe him. Needing you to say it back as if his sanity depended on it. Like the thought of you denying him would break him entirely.

Somehow though at the sound of them in your ears, you felt nothing. The meaning was gone and instead, you were left with an ache from the absence of the feeling his words once brought you. At that moment, you had let the fear take over and steer you away from the same desperation you were feeling as he was. For so long you had tiptoed around one another, had hurt each other in favor of protecting yourselves.

Now with all the possibilities there just at the tips of your fingers, you felt the fear rush through your veins like ice water. Coldness and spite were all you could feel then for a brief moment as you thought back to the night among the Tree of Souls. How you had poured everything out to him and he turned his back on you as if it was the easiest thing. He looked down at you with your chest open and exposed, and spat in your face. He had torn you to pieces shamelessly and you could still remember it evidently.

He looked as you had that night, staring down at you with the same look you once had. He was offering you everything, scarily so, a dire need for you to accept him. To say yes. Your hold on him was just as strong as his and this time he didn’t hide it. He didn’t hide his need for you. His need that filled his entire body with shock waves and desirous fantasies. His need to combine his soul with yours for the rest of time, so that you would never be apart again. He didn’t hide how much he needed you, how much he needed your kiss to grant him life.

It was all there within his eyes, his gold wide eyes, speckled with every true feeling he had. You felt petty then as you stared up at him hoping to fill him with just as much dejection as he had to you.

“You aren’t capable of seeing.”

Sometimes, it just wasn’t enough. That’s how you felt like sometimes there weren’t enough words in the world to heal every wound. It was evident by the angry tear that slipped past your water line. It slid down your cheek, your skin still smooth and bright under the luminescence of the forest. He followed it as it settled in the corner of your lips.

It was harsh. Cruel even to deny both of you this. The possibility of finally being together, but your pride was bent too much and somehow you just couldn’t put the hurt you felt aside — not after everything. You couldn’t.

The exhale from his lips was entirely broken, as if you had stolen his last remaining breath from his lungs. He stared at you utterly confused and hurt, not understanding that his ignorance this past week had caused you so much pain. So much that you would walk away from him completely. Suddenly the weight had returned, the weight of a broken heart. Somehow it was far worse than any weight he had felt before. He finally saw that all he wanted was you, and the thought of losing you completely to his stupidity was maddening.

You turned from him, shaking your head slightly as if you couldn’t look at him for another moment longer. One more glance was sent to the water, the river filled with far too many memories, memories of him and you. You knew then that it didn’t matter how much you loved him, you wouldn’t be a woman who groveled, or who would beg for him.

There wasn’t a word or anything that he could say that would stop you from walking away.

“I love you, Y/N.”

Except there was that.

You felt your breath get lodged in your throat, your steps halting from where you stood a few feet away. Fingers twitching at your sides, you found your eyes locked forward at the darkness of the forest as shock drenched your body. Lips slightly parted, you felt your heart stop completely in your chest at the sound of those three words escaping his lips. Words you never expected him to know let alone say.

Somehow they felt heavier than I see you. They spoke to the human you once were and they felt heavier on your being and your consciousness. They held so much more meaning and feeling to you and somehow you found they had stopped all of your efforts to leave. You closed your eyes for a moment.

He had you.

With a strangled cry on your tongue, you suddenly turned slowly to face him, knowing he controlled every fiber of your being. You were a puppet on strings and he was the sole puppet master.

He stood by the bank, chest puffed out, eyes desperately trying to find yours. They quickly traced your tears and swollen lips as every honest look about him swelled across his face. He wouldn’t let you go, you knew that. After everything, he couldn’t but at that moment you wished he would set you free more than anything. Set you free from the pain that panged you so profoundly. Because it would be far easier than ever to grant either of you this. Neteyam Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan owned you and he held your heart in between his palms and the thought terrified you.

You shook your head, lips quivering as he slowly approached you each step sending your senses in over drive, “No. Neteyam, no.”

He stopped in front of you and he saw it then with your true feelings reflected in your tears. You were scared, absolutely terrified. The thought to feel so consumed by someone was scaring you away from him and he understood it. Stood there beneath the stars, he understood it completely. Because god forbid you give yourselves to each other and somehow this war destroys it. Somehow one of you loses the other, left to wither and collapse under the weight of grief. Eywa forbid one of you is returned to her far sooner than expected.

He felt his own tears fill his eyes as he reached out, hands taking your arms softly. Hesitant for a moment, he found his stare flickering up at the sight of something out of the corner of his eye. Uncertainty plagued his mind then, only wanting what was best for you and for him. As he peered up though, he felt his chest tighten unexpectedly at the sight of an atokirina floating right above his head, emitting a soft glow. He felt his stomach clench and then relax by the sign it brought. Suddenly then, he had never been more sure in his life.

“I’m in love with you,” his eyes fell back down to you and a soft smile appeared across his lips as he leaned closer, “I know I don’t deserve it, I don’t deserve you. Not after how I have treated you all this time.”

You felt a sob fall from your tongue as all reserves seemed to crumble before you at his feet. I’m in love with you pushing every single insecurity you felt away. It was branded across his eyes and made your whole body feel as if it was going to collapse in his arms. It was the clearest he had ever been and it had you falling apart at the seams.

Sometimes, it just wasn’t enough. Words weren't enough but those were. To you, those words were everything and more.

It didn’t matter then to you that you were terrified of losing him or that he was promised to another woman. It didn’t matter that he was supposed to be Olo’eyktan and all of these expectations hung heavily on his shoulders. None of it mattered anymore that every sign had pointed to the two of you not being able to be together because he was in love with you. He was in love with you and Eywa seemed to have blessed the match willingly. She had brought you back for a reason, for this, for him.

Let him be soft

Let him be mine.

His hand drifted up until it cupped the side of your face, it overwhelming you as he cradled you softly. His thumb traced your jaw so carefully as his eyes bore straight into your soul.

“From the moment you got here, I was condescending, rude, too absorbed in myself, and still am. I tried so hard to deny what I felt for you, for months, and this last week I found myself still trying to do that. I have been so blind and so fucking stupid. Not only was I focused on the fact that I almost lost you but the impending war. I have been awful and confusing. I admit that I have done so many things, so many horrible things, but here I am, begging you to love me anyway.”

His voice broke then, his thumb moving along your jaw to your temple and the tear stains that were stuck along your skin. His heart ached for you then and he knew that he wouldn’t go on if it meant you couldn’t be his mate. He needed you like he needed air and the thought of living another day without you was murderous.

“I am no perfect solider. I am flawed and am more difficult than I would ever like to admit, but I am a man who desperately loves you,” he whispered, leaning closer, his intense stare devouring you whole, “I am offering you everything, everything I have. I have done so many terrible things, I know that. But please, just tell me that despite it all you love me.”

His other hand which was gently wrapped around your arm slipped to your waist. As his warm fingertips pressed along your skin, you felt an exhale escape from your parted lips. Your body shuddered, out of instinct, and you leaned closer to him enough that his chest was almost pressed firmly against yours. At his lingering touch, you felt the warmth in your stomach begin to pool more just as another small breath escaped from your mouth.

His hand flattened against your lower back, pulling you flush against his chest. Your entire body felt hot then as your eyes flickered shamelessly from his dilated pupils to his parted lips. Lips that had been on your mind every night for months. Lips that you had wished would claim yours day after day, night after night.

Tell me you love me.

You gasped at the feeling of his heart beating profusely in his chest, clashing with your own. Your eyes then snapped up to his wide ones as he stared down at you. He was waiting for what you would say next, waiting for what you would do next. The desperation was evident, interlaced with the desire that coated his golden orbs. His golden orbs that were drenched in reflections of the forest almost as if you were back between the mauve tendrils.

The sight of an atokirina floating over his shoulder made you think that maybe you were, that you had traveled there. Like Neteyam wasn’t really there in front of you, saying all of these things. This was all just a figment of your imagination and would be nothing but dust by the morning. It was real though, as real as the Great Mother herself. All evident by the pull of your stomach and the need that was brewing at the base of your stomach for the man before you.

You always wanted him, always wished to be claimed by him and no one else, and now here he was before you, begging, asking. All while Eywa approved of it herself. Your eyes flickered back over to his face, as the pressure within your stomach began to appear in the form of a throb in between your thighs.

His tongue swiped along his bottom lip and you found yourself following the movement with your eyes, wishing it could be replaced with your own. You couldn’t deny the feelings that were overtaking you, or the incessant need to confirm them with action. You loved him, of course, you did and it was something you wouldn’t be able to deny any longer.

With a quiet whisper, your eyes found his and all want to deny him seemed to melt from your body, “I can not lie to you.”

His ears perked up at your words and he found his eyes tracing the way your features had visibly softened, your own eyes reflecting all the same things his was. Desire. Need… Love. He tilted his head curiously, his bottom lip finding a place in between his teeth as the anticipation began to eat away at him.

You sighed, hand lifting from your side to press along his chest, right where his heart sat. He inhaled at the feeling as a small smile appeared across your lips, “There is no one else who has ever made me feel as you do and there never will be. It's you, Neteyam, always.”

Your eyes softened, taking in the way he smiled down at you, a low chuckle falling from his lips in relief at your words. You smiled too then as he leaned closer, hand still firmly wrapped around your jaw. You felt your breath hitch again in your throat as his stare flickered down to your lips and then back up to your eyes.

His mouth parted softly as his thumb drifted to your lips, and your thighs involuntarily clenched as he traced your upper lip and along your cupid’s bow. A breathy gasp was ripped from you as he dragged the pad of his thumb down across your bottom lip, satisfied with the way it bounced back into place.

Unable to stop yourself, your eyes fluttered shut as his hand slowly trailed down away from your face. Palm ghosting over your neck, his thumb moved from your chin down across your pulse point. He felt himself stir at the sight of your wet parted lips and the way your lashes brushed along the tops of your cheeks. He couldn’t stop himself then as his hand firmly took a hold of your neck and pulled you forward.

His lips gently found yours and for a second you could barely register the pressure. It was so soft, delicate as if he was trying to savor the first touch. You were the first to move your lips against his and even as you did, it was tender and slow, so different from the way he was clutching onto your neck.

His lips moved effortlessly against yours and you felt yourself practically melting in his arms, legs close to buckling beneath you if it weren’t for the stronghold he had around your back. His lips were soft, slightly parted, teasing with an underlying sense that was almost demanding.

A whimper escaped from your mouth and at the sound, he pressed his lips harder against your own. His hand tightened around your neck then, and at the feeling of his thumb pressed firmly against your pulse, you couldn’t stop yourself from letting your head lull back slightly, mouth parting at the action.

The urgency built up just as the throbbing in between your legs had. Just as the warmth seemed to spread across your entire body like firecrackers. His tongue molded with yours and at the feeling of it engulfing yours, you couldn’t help but arch your back into his.

Your hands found a place along his shoulders, fingernails brushing against his skin with ease. With a flick of his tongue, your hands dug into his back and it pulled a groan from the back of his throat. At the sound, you couldn’t help but buck your hips forward into his, desperate to feel anything, everything.

Feeling you struggling to catch your breath, his teeth took a firm hold around your lower lip and pulled back out of the kiss, releasing it with a pop. All while his eyes traced the way some of his saliva pooled along your lower lip. He shifted on his heels as he took notice of how puffy and red they were as well as how dilated your eyes suddenly appeared. He knew then there was nothing he wanted more than to have this view for the rest of his life, to be the one who pushed you this close to the edge, to have complete and utter control over every part of your body.

Hand leaving your neck, he reached behind himself to take a hold of his queue. He reveled in the way your eyes widened slightly as he brought it around his shoulder. His other hand that still had a firm hold around your hip tightened, his thumb brushing along the string of your bottoms. You shifted under the touch, breath completely stolen from your throat. You shook your head slightly, unsure at that moment as Neteyam stared down at you, his queue offered out to you.

“I have always wanted you Y/N. Always,” he whispered lowly, finger twisting around the string of your bottoms as his eyes scanned your face with the utmost softness he could muster, “There is no one else I would want by my side.”

Your heart clenched in sync with your thighs and suddenly there was nothing left to say, no other excuse to be had. He already had every part of you including the aching organ in between your ribs. What else was there left to spare?

Neteyam Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan was asking you to be his mate and there weren’t enough reasons to stop you, not while he stared down at you like that with his hands touching you the way they were. You were putty under his touch and with your entire being aching to give him what was left of you, you grabbed your queue from your back and pulled it forward. You held your breath as you stared between them, their pink nerve endings twitching in the air.

Slowly, you watched as he extended his out further towards you and with the most docile touch connected his with yours. As they firmly wrapped around one another, you felt all air be stolen from your lungs and every sensation in your body be exemplified. Tsaheylu. Your whole body suddenly collapsed forward as your eyes widened, pupils growing in size.

Staring forward at Neteyam, you watched as his own eyes dilated and his entire body jolted forward, arms tightening around you. His forehead fell to yours and for a moment you both just stood there wrapped up in the other’s arms, soft pants echoing off the forest trees. It was like you had been awakened and all you could focus on was the erratic beat of his heart in his chest and the gasping breath of his lungs You could feel it to your very core and it only heightened every sensation and desire you had.

At the sight of his glistening lips and blown-out pupils, the ache in you intensified from the extra stimulation. He groaned slightly as your hips met his again and he couldn’t help but let his lips connect with your jaw. His head dipped, lips tracing the skin from your jaw to your neck with his tongue.

Both of his large palms gripped tightly at your hips, trying to pull you as close as he could just as his teeth poked at the surface of your skin. Finding the pulse in your neck, he bit down slightly and you couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling back at the sudden sensation that went straight to your core. It was like every nerve ending had been lit on fire from Tsaheylu and you wished to never disconnect from him again.

His arms were wrapped strongly around your body and you found yourself moaning out his name as his fingers traced over your hip bones, firmly enough to hopefully leave a mark. “Neteyam…”

As his lips found your collarbone, his hands took a hold of your thighs and pulled them up and around his hips. A small noise escaped your mouth at the sudden feeling of your feet coming off the ground but it was replaced then by a moan at the feeling of his core meeting yours. The newly added pressure had you aching in his arms, as if he wouldn’t do something soon you would actually die.

His lips trailed up and claimed yours again and instantly as his tongue molded to yours again, he fell down to his knees, them hitting the ground harshly. His hands were still firmly gripped around your thighs as your knees slid to the grass on either side of his. Sat on top of him, you felt the feeling in your stomach tighten slightly. He was hard under you, straining against his bottoms.

“Yawne (my beloved), look at you,” he said lowly, staring up at you, his eyes half-lidded and full of need, “I think this is where you were meant to belong.”

With his hands wrapped around either one of your legs, he pushed you off of him slightly and then onto the ground. You felt your back arch slightly at the feeling of it meeting the cool grass. He crawled over you and you felt your legs tighten from around him as his body hovered over yours. With his arms on either side of your head, you were unable to stop your gawking at the sight of him looking so huge and strong on top of you. Even in the darkness, you were able to see every line and tautness of his muscles. It was like he was sculpted by the gods themselves and all you could think about was how you desperately wished for him to overpower you.

His lips found your collarbone again and then slowly as if he was taking his time, planning to use every minute of darkness you two had, they trailed down your chest. You arched into him again as his breath fanned across your breasts through the thin material of your top. With open-mouth kisses, his lips were followed by his tongue as they left a trail of wetness between your breasts all the way down your stomach. They stopped right above the line of your bottoms, right above where you ached for him most.

He glanced up at you and smirked as his hands pushed your knees apart further. You begged then, shamefully, “Neteyam, please.”

Teasingly, his hand trailed down the outside of your thigh before firmly wrapping around your knee. He lifted it up onto his shoulder and his lips found the inside of your thigh then. Your body tensed and then relaxed as he began to trace his lips up the side of your leg.

With each inch he got higher, you felt the anticipation flooding your system and you couldn’t help but twitch with impatience. A moan slipped past your lips as his tongue flattened across the inside of your thigh only a few inches from your soaked bottoms. Mouth falling away from your skin, he glanced up at you through his eyelashes and grinned smugly at the want in your eyes. With your leg still balanced across his shoulder, he reached up, his fingers curling around the string of your bottoms. His eyes never left yours as he gave them a gentle tug. They loosened around your frame.

Your hands tightened at your sides as you felt them fall away from your body and discarded off to the side. He groaned loudly as his eyes traced down your frame and before you knew it he was leaning in, mouth finding your inner thigh again. They trailed up slowly until he was face to face with your lower half, bare and aching for him.

His hand left your hip, fingers slipping in between your legs to part your split. At the feeling of his fingers, your breath hitched and then a second later you felt his mouth connect with you. His tongue found your clit in a matter of seconds and you couldn’t stop the twitch that ripped through your body at the skillful flick he sent to it. His other hand reached up to push your body back to the ground just as he flattened his tongue against the bundle of nerves.

Your head tilted back at the feeling while a whimper was ripped clean from the back of your throat. He chuckles and the sound vibrates through your entire body. His middle and ring fingers then slip in with ease and you can’t help but tense under him with the newfound stretch. He waited a moment, for your breath to even out and for the uncomfortable pull to fade. After a few seconds, he dove in like a starved man, his lips wrapping firmly around your clit, sending a jolt of electricity through your entire body. A string of curse words falls from your lips like a symphony and it only fuels the man below you more.

His fingers start to move, creating their own pace dragging along your walls as the slickness only seemed to increase in between your legs. His tongue poked and prodded at every inch of skin he could find. His pace quickened and it all was starting to become too much as anywhere his fingers didn’t reach his tongue did. It moved up and down, tasting every part of you.

His name was the only thing you could find yourself saying as his fingers suddenly curled up inside of you. Your entire body jolted, heat appearing across your skin in dabs of sweat as your heart rattled away in your chest feeling like it could explode at all the pleasure being pulled from your body.

“Neteyam,” you found yourself calling out as the assault only seemed to continue, the overwhelmingness of it almost too much on your body.

He ignored you as his lips firmly sealed around your clit again, tongue going to work, as his fingers curled again. The heat rushed across your entire body straight up to your face and your hips pushed up into his hand with your back continuously arched into the air. Your heel dug into the back of his shoulder at the feeling of his tongue again. He sucked at your fluids like juice just as your thighs tightened around his shoulders. With his hand wrapped firmly around your knee, he lifts your thigh higher and your jaw drops open in shock. No sounds could be formed then as the spring in your stomach began to tighten.

You realized then what was soon to happen as it felt like he was sucking every last innocence out of your body, every last drop claiming you as his. He groaned as his pace somehow got faster. You clench your eyes shut just as his fingers hit the point deep inside of you. His grip on you was bruising as his tongue sucked and flicked and took everything you had to offer him. You were squirming at that point unable to stop the pulsing that was emitting from deep inside of you. Your chest was rising and falling so quickly that you felt as if you couldn’t catch your breath.

You pleaded for him to not stop and just like he would grant you this for the rest of his life, his fingers curled into you one more time and you felt the coil deep within your stomach snap, taking the rest of your body with it. He ripped the feeling straight out of your body and pulled the loudest cry from you with it. Your voice cracked as he continued pushing his fingers up in you, tongue not moving from where they were clasped around your clit. Your leg shook from where it hung off his shoulder as your vision blurred, expelling tears from the inner corners. Body collapsing onto the ground, he waited a moment, fingers still in your body and tongue pressed to your core, before he pulled away.

Your ragged breaths filled his ears and he couldn’t help but smile as your leg slipped down from around him. He pulled his fingers from you and you winced slightly at the sudden feeling, your lower half tightening around nothing.

As your eyes fluttered open again, you stared at him as he leaned up over you on his knees. Your spent body being imprinted on his mind. Wiping at his mouth with his forearm, he licked his lips, the taste of you still coated across his tongue. At the sight of his glistening lips and narrowed eyes, the heat appeared again in seconds.

His lips sloppily collide with yours and as if he hadn’t already ripped it out of you once, you felt your chest arch into his. His tongue pressed along yours and you shivered at the way he tasted, like you. With the remnants of your actions splayed between your thighs across your skin, you felt the wetness appear again. He smiled at the feeling of your body against his and groaned as his hand drifted down in between your bodies to his own bottoms. Your nails dug desperately into his back and his hips jolted into yours in surprise. Fingers pulling at the band of his bottoms, he yanked them from his body. Your breath hitched again, the sixth time since he first had touched you as you felt his hardness brush against your core.

He hissed at the feeling and for a moment his head collapsed into your neck, almost painfully. You whispered his name and it brought his gaze back to you. He felt his entire life flash before his eyes with the sight of you below him. Irrevocably you were finally his, you were there, and you were alive. You were his.

It wasn’t another late-night fantasy where his hands had wandered in between his legs. He blinked and you were really there. You were alive and he couldn’t stop his hand from drifting up to your neck again, desperately craving the gentle flutter of your pulse. Hand gripping tightly around your throat, he watched with a furrowed gaze your reaction as his tip pressed into your entrance, prodding slowly.

Without a warning, he pushed in, bottoming out quickly. You cried out again, chest arching up into his as he hissed at the involuntary tightness around his dick. His head tilted back for a moment, trying to memorize the feeling of you squeezing so beautifully around his length, your name falling from his parted lips in praise.

After a moment, his eyes fluttered open again as spews of love sputtered from his lips. His hands reached for yours at your sides and you gasped at the way he pushed them up above your head, his fingers lacing in between yours. As you squeezed around him again, he swore, deciding then to pull out and slam back into you.

“Oh, fuck,” he exhaled then as he did it again, the pleasure flooding his system, “Yeah, that’s it.”

That heat began to pool again instantly as one of his hands slipped from yours down in between your bodies. His thumb found your clit. It was still swollen from the effects of his tongue, and without a second to waste he began to build up a pace. His hips rammed into yours, harshly sending your back into the ground as your legs wrapped up around his waist.

It all was building up again and you felt your head lull to the side suddenly overstimulated. It wouldn’t take long this time as it all was flooding your system; his grunts, the pleasure, the feeling of his body wrapped around yours strongly. He groaned out as you clenched around his dick again, you already fast approaching the edge. He rammed up into you harder as his hand tightly held yours.

“It couldn’t have been anyone else, Y/N. It’s always been you. You’re meant to be my future wife, my Tsahik, my mate,” he mumbled lowly as his pace began to falter quickly, “Only you.”

You hummed then, “My Olo’eyktan.”

His eyes rolled slightly at the title, it sounding so formal across your tongue and he couldn’t help but speed up further. He sent another and then another thrust straight into you, as his thumb continued throwing circles into your bundle of nerves.

Somehow it all had led you here, the six months of training, him starting off by disliking you, the arguments, the issues. All of it led to this with you splayed beneath him, being fully claimed as his. You let the noises fall freely from your swollen lips as all the tension and the pain seemed to fade away.

Neteyam’s grunts filled your ears as his palm tightened around your throat once and then twice. The pressure had you squeezing around him, it bringing you to that point quickly. He slid in so easily and quickly as your juices coated your inner thighs. His thumb didn’t stop and before you could even realize it, that spring in your stomach was tightening and then breaking completely.

Your whole body erupted into flames as a cry fell from your lips, it was so loud and so startling. You pulsed around Neteyam as he pulled out and slammed back into you, the sudden flutter of your walls, pulling a groan out of his throat. He couldn’t hold on much longer with the constant clenching around his cock. His eyes squeezed shut then as his hand moved away from your clit to dig into the skin of your hips. It was bruising as he gave one more pump before his whole entire body stilled, tensing above you.

You exhaled suddenly at the feeling of him shooting up inside you, followed by a few more thrusts before he was pulling out completely. The lost feeling of him was surprising as the sound of his gasps filtered in through your ears. Chest meeting his, your face was flushed with color at the sudden realization.

You were mated for life.

Reaching up, you cupped his face, practically asking him to open his eyes to coat your vision in gold and specks of green. With a gentle exhale, they snapped open and met yours. An exhausted smile appeared across his lips as your thumb traced delicately along his jaw.

You were overwhelmed at that moment by it all; the fact that you were laying in your spot with the future Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya, with no promise of the days ahead. You felt everything as well as the pulse in his body from the bond of your souls.

You were one, forever and the only thing you could think to say at that moment was, “I love you too.”

The Na’vi say that every person is born twice.

It is the greatest rebirth ever granted to a person. A mere moment of acceptance, of acknowledgment, a promise that no matter what, you have a place among the people forever. There is a greatness that comes from it; the connection that the people have for one another, the power they emit gracefully.

The Na’vi were more than just a tiny sliver of humanity you had fallen upon. It had become your life, your existence, your sole purpose in life. Grace Augustine had once seen that in the Omatikaya, she saw them as her destiny. Then there was dream walker Jake Sully. He led the clan to victory against the sky people and now suddenly sat upon your Ikran, queue wrapped firmly within its, dread once again was felt in the air. A moment of the unknown presented to all.

Success was never guaranteed. Life was never guaranteed, but there were more important things than the need to breathe. Justice. Perseverance. Triumph.

All of that had masked over the necessity of a long life, of years to come because why promise life if there was a chance it would be dull and overtaken by enemies. Why have life if it is only filled with smoke-clouded air, and living in fear? So many had suffered at the hands of the sky people, and so many losses had been wasted at their feet. Their greediness overtook the humanity that once plagued their hearts.

It was no way to live, captive in your own world.

“Look alive, people, we got metal in the sky,” the Olo’eyktan’s voice filtered in through the transmitter strapped within your ear.

Your body stiffened, glare narrowing at the sky before you.

War was coming. Violence would soon erupt in the world of Pandora once again, after nearly two decades of peace. The Omatikaya people once again led the tide of Na’vi and Ikrans in the sky. Multiple bands of people scattered across the forest, waiting like silent death traps.

This was it.

Taking in a deep breath, you found yourself looking off to the side towards the Olo’eyktan. You looked past Jake and you felt your eyes meet his instantly. The great warrior was already staring at you. The mighty soldier’s golden eyes traced your face with the utmost determination you had ever seen. Neteyam Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan flew upon his Ikran, gun gripped tightly within his palms. Hair braided back out of his face laced with feathers. His face was covered in war paint, dosing his skin in bright colors. The orange and the green stripes were an imprint and you took a few seconds to take in the sole sight of the Toruk Makto’s oldest son. He had become just as he was always meant to.

He was made with gunmetal and veering sharp teeth. He was made to be mighty and strong and fearless. He was a warrior. A soldier. A hero.

He once again was giving everything to the world without a second thought. They needed him as much as they once needed Atlas or Achilles. They needed the great soon-to-be Olo’eyktan so desperately and he gave everything willingly. The world needed his strength, his courage, his blood, and his sweat. Most of all, they needed his heart.

He would give it all for his people, for his home, for you. Because he wasn’t just a mighty warrior but a ruler. A king and a king would sacrifice his entire being for the betterness of everyone else. He flew then powerfully, captivatingly, and even with all the pressures of the world on his shoulders, you knew then he would not falter. He would not collapse under the weight or break under the pressure.

He was stronger than any gunmetal or wooden arrow. He was the chosen one and more than that he was yours. He was your love, your soon-to-be Olo’eyktan, and your mate.

Neteyam’s gaze flickered across your features, skin bathed in bright paint, a glint filling your eyes. He nodded towards you and you felt your body tense unwillingly as the sound of metal blades drifted through the air. You granted him one more look, the sight of him gracing your being with one last fateful glance.

The Na’vi say that every person is born twice.

With the screech of your Ikran in your ears, your gold eyes snapped back to the sky before you, and speckled with the lightest green they locked upon a metal chopper in the distance, and you knew then that it was just the beginning.

author's note: this is the end... i don't know what to do with my life now but i hope all of your angsty hearts can rest now.

one of us taglist is not working the best right now and I have over the limit of people asking to be tagged (it says it's fifty) so, for now, I am just not going to have a taglist because I can't tag everyone and it's taking a lot of work to figure out.

#avatar #avatarimagine #avatar way of water #neteyam x reader #writing #fanfiction #neteyam imagine #avatar imagine #avatar fanfiction #lo'ak imagine #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak fanfiction #neteyam fanfiction

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gremlingottoosilly · 10 months

Text

[If you need to be mean] chapter 2

Chapter 1

Konig decided to meet his new favorite civilian at the cafe you work at. Unfortunately for both of you, you're both socially awkward. TW: Konig being a huge pervert, Canon-Typical violence, Dub-Con, Innocence kink, Age difference(Konig in his yearly 40, Reader in young 20)

Pairing: Konig x fem!Reader Tags: Fluff, Power Imbalance, Hurt/Comfort, Size Kink, Possessive Konig, Yandere Konig, Creepy scary stalker Konig, written mostly from Konig's perspective

— Did something good happen, colonel? You are practically shining.

Horangi always had this special ability of telling nonsense with the most serious face and deep voice. He also was the only one in his unit to ever be brave enough to joke with his superior – even though all the other KorTac members usually don’t risk their asses to be put on fire list because of some silly joke. He is the closest König has to a friend – and it’s kinda sad, actually, that a broken gambling addict is the only person who can read his emotions so well, even with his hood and permanently sour expression.

But something good did happen – you happen, of course.

He spend a few days of self-reflecting, drinking and punching training manekens in the gym, trying so fucking hard to put your adorable civillian face out of his mind. You were out of sight alright, but the way your features would get distorted into something even more adorable every time he closed his eyes, was concerning. He dealt with those little obsessions before – nothing that a few good rounds of jerking off until he would feel nothing but emptiness and hatred to himself couldn’t handle. He surely can’t fall that deep down, he only saw you for like an hour and it was literally three days ago!

— I read your reports about the last terrorist encounter. Good job, Horangi.

— And I heard about that civilian girl you pulled, sir. Thought we are bringing those to the police, not their houses.

— I had to make sure she wasn't a spy.

— And she wasn’t?

König thinks – would be far easier if he would have an official, legal reason to keep you locked up on the base without the right to come out. Would be far easier for him to just think about you as an enemy, so he would have normal reasons for thinking about you constantly, and not feeling guilty. It’s normal to think so much about your enemies – this is what keeps you alive on the field, if you can determine their shortcomings early and make sure that you can fight them. He would love having you as an enemy – it would at least give him some info before starting obsession over little ol’ you.

— No.

— That would give us at least some lead to the terrorist cell. Feels like all locals are protecting them from it.

— I understand your frustration. But at least they are not cutting our pay.

— We might as well rebel if they’d try to.

— We are not stepping on terrorist’s route.

— I was joking, sir. Only thing that’s left here except for card games.

Horangi hates stationing in this country as much as König is – and, given that he is a sergeant and doesn’t have as much rank expectations, can talk about this openly. This operation is perfect except for the lack of intel, lack of action and lack of basically anything to do – the local forces are handling minor threats, while mercs here are mostly to show off how the government has money to hire them. KorTac would pay for actually having to fight some bad guys around here – but the bigger ones are hiding and lower ones are already getting tracked down by the local military.

The only interesting thing to do, seemingly, is to obsess over local girls – and König thought he is better than this.

But he isn’t losing sleep over thinking about how scared and fragile you looked that night. Especially not even going to think about how adorable your little pout was, and the way your hands were trembling. He definitely doesn't want to know every tiny detail about your life, what you like and what you hate, what is your favorite position in bed and the color of underwear you are currently wearing – or even if you are wearing one. And he isn’t some sort of creep that would spend an obnoxiously long amount of time registering on social media – god, he is too old for this shit, it literally feels even more humiliating than his whole school experience – just so he can find your accounts and get instant masturbation material.

You really shouldn’t post so much half-naked photos – yes, this is a reel from your last summer vacation and yes, this swimsuit looks beautiful on you, but have you ever considered that some creep(not someone like him, he is palming himself very respectfully) would use those photos as a way to get themself off? Terrible, scary, he can’t wait for you to post some new photos – maybe in something that he would buy you, way skimpier and more expensive, so he could protect you from those people.

He looks at your posts about work – and he hates this stupid blue bird app because it never works for him, always filled with some assholes who are trying to argue with literally everyone, and the way he can’t even see your posts properly because of the weird ads. No, he doesn’t need a “Thing that would make your dick longer” he literally has a problem with making it smaller. No, he doesn’t need some dumb T-shirt even though he kinda reflects with the funny pun about pokemons and would love to wear something containing his major interest even though it would look ridiculous on a 6 '10 killing machine.

But König reads all of your short posts about the way you hate working in customer service, and his hand is almost slipping to the ad about wedding rings. You hate your job, he hates his – practically soulmates, even though he doesn’t really hate the killing part of his employment, he just doesn’t want to be in charge of people and making them steal the fun of destroying. He would, however, agree to get as many ranks as possible if that would mean providing for you. If that would allow him to be by your side and listen to your sweet voice, he would agree for the next promotion even if higher ups would want him to make some PR wawes and become a fucking fashion model.

But he is completely sane about you. Totally normal. Absolutely nothing is wrong with him when he can’t even think about visiting you in real life, but he leaves a like on every of your posts in every social media he has – you have terrible online safety habits by the way, he can already see what the inside of your apartment looks like, your place of work from three different angles, and how the front door of your apartment is held together by a very easy to destroy lock. He could snatch it in one deliberate kick, not even speaking about just shooting it. Not like he would need to, he wants you to be with him willingly. Or, at least, don’t fight him too much in case he would actually lose his patience and do something drastic.

It has already been three days and he feels like he is going crazy. He had those things before, overthinking about tiniest details in someone he never truly knew, but even then he’d understand that he can’t be with them – it could be his school crushes that were, ironically, crushed because of his anxiety. It might be some casual flings with his fellow soldiers that would either get killed in the field or never happen because it would be fraternization. Some random people he saw at the airport and already imagined life with multiple kids and a dog. He always knew he had a problem – but it was never like this before. Never dangerous.

The problem is – he knows that he can have you.

Maybe not in a traditional way, he doubts that you would just marry him on the spot, but he can court you at least. He can shower you with gifts or ridiculous tips at your job, he can just snatch you away and leave you as his perfect little bedmate. He can make his men kidnap you, and while it is inhumane and you don’t deserve this, he would calm you down – and then have his happily ever after.

He knows that he can have you – and it drives him crazy. He could stop himself previously, when he didn’t have anything for himself to be considered desirable – but now, with his rank and all the new opportunities and money it brings, he can’t stop but fantasize.

You under him, panting and blushing, lips puffy from kisses, skin glazed from sweat and marked with his teeth.

You under him, so wonderfully tight, not letting him go even for an inch – and you are perfectly taking him, no matter how gigantic he is.

You under him, smiling, cuddling after a long night – every night after a mission, where he could spend his free time deep in your body, listening to your melodic moans and little whines.

You under…

— Can I…can I take your order, sir?

He is a disgusting human being because lives of thousand people are on a stake, he would just doom them all if he wouldn’t find those terrorists soon – and he wastes time on sitting in this tiny ass cafe, trying to place himself on the small seat while being all too nervous to just talk to you. Like a person. Of course he had to go to your shift – he already determined which days you were working because it increased the number of angry “I hate my job and want to kill my manager” posts on that dumb social media, and he knows which hours you work at – of course it’s almost night time, the closing shift, because he simply can’t have himself not worry about you.

He is a creep, weirdo and all that words in a song that he’s been blasting in his tiny headphones all of these days because he can smell the sweetness of your perfume and the way you are munching on the pen you are using to write his order. Oh, yes, order. He is supposed to order something, he can’t just give you money for how adorable you look in that white apron – even though you are absolutely stunning and should get money.

God, he would murder everyone in this building just for them to never look at your legs again.

God, he would bury himself between them if only you’d allow him to.

— Sir, is everything okay?

He served in the military for far longer that you lived, probably. Most of his life, he got used to being referred to as something honorable, or referring to other people like that – and he never thought that just being referred to as “sir” would make his dick twitch in his pants. He crosses his legs, hoping not to get too imposing – he already towers over the tiny table like a giant he is, barely even fitting in it. He thinks he has a healthy amount of self-control – then he looks at you again, and thanks all the gods he knows for the mask he is wearing – at least under the black surgeon piece and dark glasses you won’t really see his blush. Or that little twitching in his eyes that is indicating danger.

— Sorry, I…can I, um, have a coffee? Bitte…please, I mean.

He hates how nervous he is – like high school again, asking his crush out just to be ridiculed. But you look perfect like this – controlled environment, you can’t just laugh at him and say that he is a weird nerd from another class, you have a manager who is controlling of such behavior. He would never tell on you, of course, he wants you to be happy, even if this job makes you the most miserable – even though he kinda thinks of you as a weak for this, his job literally involves killing people and he doesn't argue that much!

But you giggle – sweet, innocent sound, it drives him crazy even more than he previously was. It doesn’t feel like those girls at school – yes, he still can’t let that go, even though his therapist says he has to – and he loses all control at how beautiful you sound. He wants to take you away right now, pay you for your workplace however you get them, and just use you as he wants – no matter how socially unacceptable. He protects this country, he has the right for a little prize, right? No, this would be terrible, he shouldn’t just harass sweet little civilians like you, he should…

— What type of coffee, sir? Do you want some dessert?

This is a typical question, he was at cafes and coffee shops a thousand times but, for some reason, it feels almost like you are teasing him. You bite the end of your pen with those adorable teeth of yours – he wants to feel it on his fingers, he wants you to leave bite marks all over his body as a sign of marking him as yours. He smiles under his mask, hoping that you would somehow feel it – how happy you make him feel, how hard it’s for him not to lose control.

— No. Just coffee.

— Sugar?

He would like some sugar, of course – but the one he wants is probably not for sale, even though that adorable white apron of yours makes you look like a candy. He would love to unwrap you from those silly clothes and devour what belongs to him for the right of protector, but he knows how scared you might be. He is not a good person, he killed more people that he could count – countless fathers, sons, mothers, he shouldn’t even think about having a right for a family of his own after all of this. He is not a good person and his moral code changes with every kill he gets – but for hell sake, he wants to be nice with you. You deserve it, he knows. More than he is, for sure.

König doesn’t really like sugary stuff, it was always too childish, made him too energetic, disrupted his very peculiar way of eating things. Sweets makes him only more hungry, makes him crave more, and he wants to be as serious as possible – so he usually drinks and eats stuff that is no tastier than a pile of dry sand. But he responds before he can think, too focused on that shiny lipgloss you have on your lips. He would lick and bite it all – soon, he hopes.

— Ja. Thank you.

— Good choice, sir.

Your lips are curling into a small, shy smile and he likes sugar now. He isn’t sure if you are telling everyone that their order is a good choice, maybe you just want to get more tips, but he hopes that maybe, he is special. Maybe there is something nice happening to him after all. A small reward for not being a total monster on the last mission he had, even though he could. He can’t do anything but to stare at you, his only saving grace is the dark lenses of his glasses – he can’t wear his hood in civil situations, unfortunately, people would stare, stare, stare and that would make him want to pull their eyes out.

But you smile and he smiles also, even if you can’t see it. He is looking at your legs and, fuck, he is a disgusting old creature that preys upon younger women because he never had a positive experience before. He is a total creep and a monster that should be put down already – but he stares at your legs under that waitress dress, and he would pay your manager a few thousand Euros to cut the length of your skirt in half.

Then he sees all the others looking at you the same way – old people, young people, there aren’t a lot of guests at this time in the evening, most people are afraid of going into public places while the war on terrorism is going on. There aren’t a lot of people while it’s almost closing time, but he doesn't even want to think about all the other men looking at you like this. Devouring you with their eyes, probably leaving sleazy comments as you go through the small cafe, just as overworked as your other coworkers. He wants to take you from here.

You don’t deserve people looking at you like you aren’t even a person – only he can look at you respectfully, stripping you with his eyes. He can be soft for you, can be perfect – if you would just let him.

König doesn’t want to be a creep around you, but he was looking at your legs for five minutes already, picturing the way your body would look under all of these clothes, and his cock gets painfully hard. He thanks himself for wearing normal, baggy pants, not something tighter – at least his embarrassment is completely covered by his clothes.

— Here is your coffee. Anything else?

You look nervous, of course – but he seems way softer than he was a couple days ago, at night. The absence of his creepy mask is obviously helping, and because he is sitting, you don’t have to tilt your head too high, causing your neck to stretch uncomfortably. He looks awkwards, like a big dog that still tries to fit into his old bed, and it causes you to smile a little bit more. You made sure to place a couple of sugar cubes on the plate, so he could decide for himself, if he wants to use them all – but the mere thought of that giant of a man, a colonel, hardened soldier liking something silly and sweet is making you giggle.

He looks way softer than he was that night, and you can almost forget about how scared you were – how you were thinking that this would be the end for you, that one, overthinking part of your mind already making up the scenarios of getting martial lawed because of the broken curfew. You can even see his hair – and fight the urge to touch it a little. He is still who-knows-how-old and still a military presence in your peaceful country.

You still want to ruffle his hair.

He still wants to take your clothes off and make you his.

— Nein, thank you.

He stares at the cup for a good few seconds – if he wants to drink, he needs to actually take it off. He has many scars on his face, and his mouth sometimes feels like it has more dead skin than alive one – he doesn’t want to attract attention. Some people are already staring at his badge and how awkward a giant man like him looking in that cozy, tiny place – but he also wants you to see how much pain he can withstand without getting killed. How he can protect you from anything because there literally isn’t anything he won’t do for you. You would appreciate a man with scars, it’s a sign of bravery, right?

Then he thinks about all the times he would take off his mask and how people around him would look at him – with pity, with fear, with disgust sometimes even though he is certain that his face isn’t as deformed as some other parts of his body. He even almost managed to grow a beard once! Then he had to scrub it all off because hair was growing in very uneven patches and he looked like something crawled on his chin and died.

König fought in countless battles, spent his youth training to be the best killer possible, took part in many major conflicts and killed hundreds of people while feeling nothing but recoil. He isn’t afraid of anything – except for talking to people sometimes, maybe, and even now he is trying to work on it with his therapist, instead of just killing anyone who looks at him funny. He isn’t afraid of the dark, of death, of uncertainty in his life. But he is afraid of you looking at him unmasked and thinking that you, in fact, find him disgusting.

You almost want to take your time to look at what he will do – is he going to take off his mask? Is he going to drink right through the fabric? You have too much work to just stay at his table and stare, even if you want to – but you are trying to give him occasional glances as he just…sits at his table. Not even moving, just staring at the cup and sometimes moving his head to look at you – or just ornaments at the wall behind you. Yes, probably the ornament.

König sits at the table and, well, he doesn’t even want to drink his coffee because just looking at the way your ass sways under that terribly short skirt is enough to set him on fire. He wants to take you home with him – even though his home is all the way up in Austria. He would take you, you probably wouldn’t even be mad at you – you could be a perfect little family. He already waited too long to start one, never finding anyone who would win his heart for a long run but he was sure that this three-days-obsession would last long. He isn’t sure, however, if he likes it or not.

He ended up not drinking at all – he knows that he can’t just waste multiple hours, he already got his lieutenants covering the spot with paper work while their commander is away at searching for the love of his life. He wants to be with you longer, probably walk you home again and make sure to protect you from any creeps that would want to attack. He can’t have that, it’s obvious – he is a colonel, unfortunately, he is still on the hunt for those terrorists, he can barely give himself an hour of free time these days.

He already indulged in his fantasies too much when he folds a 100 Euros banknote and puts it into the bill – not sure about how much money it is here, not wanting to give you any trouble with exchanging currency, he just hopes that would be enough for you to at least not worry about food for a few days. Or buy yourself something nice – what girls like these days? Guns, books, some fancy lip gloss, a hat for their adorable little turtles? He would buy you a pet turtle, he always wanted one as a kid – right before his father said that all lizards are products of sinful corporations and a lazy pet like a turtle, unlike a giant dog breed, is completely useless and unmanly.

He doesn’t want to be here when you’ll get the bill – he is too afraid that he didn’t gave you enough, that you'd be disappointed. He would love to give you more, of course, but he doesn’t want to just shove you the money like you are some sort of cheap whore – he wants to give you gifts, something meaningful, to steal you from poverty altogether. König is an expert in infiltration and escaping arts, he can exit the location without anyone noticing a thing, even with his size – and then you look at him, directly into his eyes, covered by sunglasses – and your face is twisted in shock as you realize what exactly he left you.

— Wait, sir! Please, I…god, I will get you the change right now, I’m so sorry, it’s closing shift, I…I’m sorry, I completely forgot…

You are almost begging him to stop and let you give him his money, a honorable deed really – but all he can think of is how nice you would look on your knees, begging him to fuck you already. How perfect you would look all whiny and spoiled, asking him for something expensive, whatever your cute head would want. You would look so complete on his lap, tugging on his shirt and asking your daddy for a new toy. You would…

— It was a tip. Take it.

He wants to be able to tell you how perfect you look, how he wants to just throw you over his shoulder in a totally non-creepy way and make you his little wifey. How he would take multiple months of leave to just be with you, marry you, breed you. He wants to have a way with words, but they are useless to him – he can’t even say he likes you, it’s embarrassing, he is almost forty, he got his rank as youngest colonel in history of KorTac, he can literally have almost everything he wants – except for basic social skills.

He feels like a creep, an old man trying to steal that perfect girl from the shiny world, and he hates himself for it – but then you blush and he can almost convince himself that yeah, you like that creep too.

— I…shit, I mean, sorry…thank you, sir.

— Don’t wander at night again.

He feels like a scolding father and you giggle again, too innocent and naive to understand his thoughts.

— I won’t. Promise.

He then slowly leans closer, puts a hand on your shoulder again – goosebumps are running on your skin. His head is near yours now, he is whispering in your ear – and you are almost sure that you shouldn’t have come closer to him like this, that it’s unprofessional from your side, that everyone is staring at you. They are – and you try to ignore it, but…

— Wear shorts under your skirt next time. Never know who might look at your legs like that.

You would slap him here and there. You would scream and run away right now, but for some stupid, dumb, completely terrifying reason, you…almost like how protective he sounds. And the money he gave you is also helping – even if just a little bit.

König looks at the way you blush even more, and he knows already that he won’t ever let you go.

Tag list: @iwritesjud3

Please write if you want to be tagged in the next chapter!

#call of duty #cod x reader #cod x you #cod #konig mw2 #konig x reader #reader insert #yandere #yandere konig #yandere x reader #yandere cod #fem reader

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snakeredbirdbatkatana · 5 months

Text

I will be your Blade Point Me

Loyalty was a trait Janet Drake respected above all others.

It can give you power, fame, money to have someone's loyalty was to have their life.

Tim has always given his all. His people whatever they need they have. May it be his mind, his skills, or even his weapons.

If Dick Grayson demanded the shirt off his back he would remain naked till the end of his days.

Very few times has anyone actually used it the first to test it was Jason.

"Hey Jay.. What's up you never call?"

Tim's phone is always ringing from Wayne Enterprises to his assorted friends he can't remember it being silent. Yet the shock when HighWay to Hell started blaring almost sent him into cardiac arrest.

"Need a favor. Think you could meet me at that safe house you keep pretending not to break into?"

"Yah no problem also it's not breaking in when you leave the window unlocked. Give me ten."

Jason doesn't do favors. He would rather die again than ever ask for shit.

When it comes to Tim though he's not an idiot. During his return to Gotham he researched, knew everything about him from his favorite color to when he fucking peed.

Part of his research specifically including who trained the third Robin. Nevermind that watching the kid fight for more than ten minutes gives it away.

Lady Shiva, Ra's just to name a few. He moves almost exactly the same as Cass. Hides in the shadows better than Damian. The whole creepy debacle with Mr. Old as Fuck just furthered Jason hypothesis.

Baby Bird, Bruce's prized protege isn't none lethal.

"I need you to kill someone."

Tim in the back of his mind expected it.

Jason for all he is exactly like Bruce doesn't respond the same. To him protection is blood soaked, a knife to the throat is a greeting. Kindess was shrouded and wasn't offered without losing a part of yourself.

"Joker I'm assuming?"

He expected a bit of a fight maybe a lecture at least for him to pretend, not whatever it is Replacement is doing.

"He hasn't broken out of Arkham in months haven't heard shit and I hear your in the same business as me nowadays. What you say about helping a brother out?"

He wonders if Jason is aware of how his voice cracked. The pleading that was heard the unspoken because I can't. Tim couldn't imagine looking Jason in the eye and saying no. Watching your son bend and demanding he break.

"Hate to burst your bubble, but I already did, I know you think the worst of me but I wasn't gonna let your murderer keep kicking his feet."

He tosses the drive he's been sitting on almost three months before heading back to the window.

"I know we got our shit Jay but your my brother. This is something you needed to be able to sleep at night. You shouldn't feel like you have to beg. I honestly thought you had known and didn't want to acknowledge it."

Jason can't breathe as he shuts his computer. Thirty hours of torture his baby brother broke the Joker in ways that turned his stomach.

He climbs into bed his eyes shutting sleeping without a nightmare for the first time in years.

He can't ever repay Tim nothing will ever be enough but he is gonna do everything to try.

He wonders if Ra's might need the same treatment?

#tim drake #batfamily #jason todd #dead joker #Bamf Tim drake #Bamf Jason Todd #tim drake is a menace #Tim drake kills people #damian wayne #dick grayson #bruce wayne #bamf batfamily #batfam

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riordanness · 8 months

Text

pick up lines - [p.jackson]

1.4K wordcount

warnings: none

requested: no

I hated waking up.

Not that sleeping was particularly amazing, being a demigod and all, but waking up really sucked. I'd been resting peacefully (not), when I was rudely shaken from my sleep by the breakfast bell.

Unfortunately, I had never been an early riser, so most mornings, there was a mad rush, involving a lot of mess, losing everything I needed, and desperately trying, (and failing) to clean up my cabin before inspection, which was right after breakfast.

I was generally the one who had the messiest cabin during inspection.

I finally was dressed in jeans and an orange Camp Half-Blood shirt, with my h/c hair pulled away from my face. Then, I ran to the dining pavilion.

I was a daughter of Demeter, the plant goddess. Yeah, I'm sure most of you are thinking: Oh, wow, plants... But seriously, it's kinda cool. I do have some pretty sweet powers. I can grow any plants from practically nothing, control plants and stuff, and sense things in the earth. I can even use plants to travel instantly from one place to another, by just hopping through the trees, or seeds, or flowers, or weeds, or . . . whatever.

I slipped into my seat next to Katie Gardner, my elder sister. She was the counsellor for Cabin Demeter. Katie was super nice, but she was always busy at the moment, mostly hanging out with her new boyfriend, Travis Stoll, Son of Hermes.

"You slept in again," Katie whispered to me, trying, and failing epically, to hide her laughter. "We thought it was best not to try and wake you."

That was probably smart. If someone woke me up, they'd most likely leave that situation with a black eye and seeds growing in their skin. I can be fairly lethal when I want to be.

"I stated up too late again last night," I said back, my voice also low. I didn't like when other kids were listening in on my conversations, especially those Hermes kids.

"Doing what?" Katie smirked, like she knew something I didn't.

"Um..." What was I doing? Hanging out with my best friend of course. Who also happened to be the cutest and most popular guy at camp. The only current Son of Posiedon. Percy Jackson.

"I was with Percy, at the beach. We were finding lost starfish and chucking them back in the water..." My voice faltered. I wasn't good at lying. 'At the beach' was accurate. We'd been laying on a picnic blanket, watching the stars, and just talking about everything and anything, for hours. We did that almost every night. It was the best feeling in the world, just being with him.

"Uh huh." Katie turned back to her food. "He likes you, y/n, I'm sure of it. Just as much as you like him, I bet."

"Katie!" I hissed, my face beet red, but the words pleased me. I'd had a crush on Percy Jackson since the first day he arrived at Camp Half-Blood, tired and bruised and scratched from fighting the Minotaur. He'd limped into camp, stole my heart, and became the coolest guy at camp within a month.

And yes, I was in love with him. We'd been best friends for years, and we hung out all the time. How could I possibly not fall for him, with his stupid trouble-maker grin, his dark, messy hair, his sparkling sea-green baby-seal eyes, and his voice. He was, at least in my eyes, perfect.

***

Later, I was practicing my sword-fighting in the arena, hacking arms and legs and heads off the stuffed straw dummies. I'd never been the best fighter, but I felt like I was getting the hang of my sword.

"Are you a child of Hermes?" a joking voice rang out from behind me. I spun around, and came face to face with one of the Hephestus kids. Leo Valdez, maybe?

I blew my hair out of my face, breathing hard. "Um, no? Demeter, actually. Why?"

The boy, Leo, cracked a grin. "Because you stole my heart."

I blinked, not sure what to say. I never really spoke to any of the kids from Hephestus cabin, especially not this one.

"Uh, okay... thanks, I guess?"

Leo grinned again, then ran off without saying anything else. Okay... that was pretty weird.

I decided to go for a walk, to cool down and to stretch my legs a bit, so I headed for the basketball courts, where a bunch of kids were playing a really aggressive game.

I plopped down on the grass a few meters back from the courts, and watched the game. It looked like Ares and Apollo (a strange match), against Athena, Dionysus, and a couple other kids, like Jason Grace, Nico Di Angelo, and Percy.

I found myself watching Percy more than the other players, but snapped my eyes away from him once I realised. I didn't want anyone seeing me staring at my best friend.

After a while, the players called for a break, and Jason Grace approached me. "Oh, hey (Y/N)," he smiled at me, sitting beside me and taking a swig of water from a drink bottle.

"Hey," I said back. Again, I was surprised at why Jason was talking to me. He didn't usually. Demeter kids were looked over quite a bit, and Jason was one of the big shots - a child of Zeus. Of course, Percy was a son of Posiedon, and he talked to me, but that was different. I'd known Percy for years, even before we came here at twelve years old. I'd know him since he was seven.

"Are you a child of Hades?" Jason asked suddenly.

I frowned at him. "No. Demeter, actually. Why does everyone keep-?"

I was cut off by Jason grinning and saying: "Because I'm dying to call you mine."

I swallowed. "Um..."

Jason got up and walked away, heading back to his game. I was totally confused, so I stood up, brushed off my jean shorts, and decided to go to the strawberry fields, where I usually spent most of my time, among the plants. Plants always calmed me down, and this random guys telling me pick-up lines were a little stressful. I wasn't the kind of girl who normally got guys, anyway.

After a few minutes of walking up and down the strawberry aisles, I ran into Nico di Angelo. Nico wasn't usually the sort of person you ran into in the strawberry fields, so I was surprised.

"Oh, hi, Nico," I said cheerily, waving at him. Nico and I were actually pretty good friends, so I was glad to see him. We got along surprisingly well, considering our parents' rivalry. You know, the whole Persephone getting kidnapped thing.

"Are you a child of Hephestus?" Nico stammered, blushing with embarrassment.

At this point, I was utterly confused.

"No!" I said, frowning. "I'm a daughter of Demeter, and I know you know that, Nico. And why does everyone keep trying these stupid pick-up lines on me? Besides... you like guys, don't you?"

"Well, um..." Nico shrugged and ran off, leaving me in a state of helpless confusion.

I sank to my knees in the soft grass, picking at it with my fingers. "What's happening with me today?" I wondered aloud.

"Hey, are you Aphrodite?" a familiar voice asked. "Because you're divinely gorgeous."

I glanced up, meeting the sea-green eyes of my best friend. "Percy?" I asked. "You too? What's-?"

Percy stopped me, sitting down cross-legged beside me. "Hey, I've- I've liked you for ages, but I never told you because I was scared you'd not feel the same and so we'd lose our awesome friendship, but the guys found out and so they were trying to make me jealous enough to admit me feelings today, by trying out pick-up lines on you, so, well, I- I decided that I should just tell you.”

I sucked in a breath. "Oh my gods," I managed. "You stupid son of Posiedon."

"What?" Percy chuckled nervously.

"Are you a child of the Sea God?" I asked softly. "Because I'm drowning in your beautiful eyes."

Gathering all my courage, I leaned forward and pressed my mouth against Percy's, feeling him smile against my lips, and I couldn't have wished for anything more.

#fanfiction #percy jackson #fanfic #pjo #percy jackson x reader #leo valdez x reader #nico di angelo x reader #jason grace x reader #percy jackson fanfic #pjo fanfic #rick riordan

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doki-doki-imagines · 4 months

Note

Heyy can you do more of those angel reader with the mk1 earthrealmers? Pleaseeee they are so good!!! Maybe this time they are all down bad for the reader and the reader feeling very tempted? 😍😍😍🥹🥹🥹

previous part

Johnny Cage: -Every time he looks at you, he bites his lower lip and eyes close a little; his gaze is so intense… -You are not used to being desired, and you know what he feels for you is sinful. -But DAMN, sin never looked so appetising for you like right now. -You tell Johnny about this. It's all nice and hot, 'till your position isn't at risk. -He understands, or at least nods his head. You aren't sure he really understood anything. -The real question is: for how long will you be able to resist his tempting gaze?

Kenshi Takahashi: -Kenshi is gonna pull out all the rizz power that he has hidden for all this time. -He has been young and extremely confident, breaking more than one heart and stealing others. He can do it. -IF ONLY IT WAS THAT EASY. -His palms sweat, and more than once, he stuttered in front of you like a teenager in front of their first crush. -You find him so cute that you decide to kiss his cheek, your wings protecting you both from unwanted eyes. -You kiss him near the corner of his lips, his stubble scratching you a little. -Kenshi blushes immediately, stuttering without being able to say a word. He really is a cute man.

Raiden: -He blushes every time you get near him, but his body always searches for yours. -Raiden hopes that the light coming from your wings will hide his "dumb fool in love" expression. -They don't, and you find him more adorable each day. -It's after a long day at the fields that you decide to visit him, droplets of sweat running down his forehead. -"I think you need to refresh." Raiden doesn't even understand what is happening, your lips on his own, something like a flow running in his soul… -"See? Good like you just woke up." You pinch his cheek before going back to your room. Raiden actually refreshed, no sign of sweat or tiredness. -But damn, his heart is running kilometres.

Kung Lao: -He hates how you made him blush like a kid last time. It's time for revenge. -"Good morning, Lao!" You smile at him, waving from the window of your room. "…" Doctor, we are losing him!! Bring the defibrillator!!! -He has no chance against you, but Lao has no desire to throw in the towel. -"Don't try to be a sour fox, angels dislikes it." You tell him before your lips brush against his ones. -A punishment after one of his pranks. Is this the punishment for naughty kids? -Lao isn't sure he wants to stop.

Liu Kang: -He was already down bad he can't get worse. -As much as Liu Kang has to look like a respectable leader, he'll always try to sneak away to be next to you. -"Liu Kang." "Yes, dear?" "You like me, right?" "Yeah, you are amazing with all of us." "You know I don't mean it in that way!" -Making an angel lose patience isn't easy. Good job, Liu Kang! -Now it is a game of soft gesture and teasing glances! Who will lose first?

Geras: -He goes straight to the point. "I like you more than a friend." "!!!!!!" -You are mostly worried for your position, not sure angels are allowed to have relationships. -"I know what you are thinking. I checked, nothing bad will come from our union." -That's why you fell for him. Geras makes you always feel secure.

Bi-Han: -He fights you because he doesn't know any other way to get close to you. -But it's when you put him back on the ground, wings spread wide and flaming swords pointing at his throat, that Bi-Han understands that maybe you aren't that bad. -He always wants to train with you, nagging and nagging 'till you let go and do as he asks. -"If you want to go out with me, you should take me to a date." "Why when I can get you and improve my technique?" "Because if we keep fighting, I'll cut your throat open before we can kiss."

Kuai Liang: -He is so enchanted by you that Liang just lose the ability to speak. -So he spars with you, muscles going by memory so Liang doesn't need his brain. "Your scar-" "It reminds me of terrible memories." "It gave you a beautiful new light. Be proud of what you've become." You say, thumb brushing his scar near the corner of his lips. -He'll nod and blush. -If only this light gave him the courage to ask you out…

Tomas Vrbada: -He goes straight to the point! Well, Tomas stutters and blushes but won't wait much before revealing his feelings. -Also, because he was totally obvious. -Tomas grips your hand and tells you his feelings, a guy so big looking like a puppy while revealing his feelings. -He makes you blush… -"Will you go out with me?!" "Yes!" Your wings spread at your reply, white feathers surrounding you both. -You both look like fools in love.

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beanghostprincess · 4 months

Text

I will forever love seeing Luffy and Nami holding Zoro's swords. He's so protective of those three but it's not even because he fears something might happen to them, but because he's scared something might happen to the crew and himself if he doesn't have them with him. They're like extra limbs. The ones he uses to fight and protect and breathe. He feels uneasy whenever his swords aren't around him, and that is just a fact. You can't deny that he feels comfort in having them by his side at all times, knowing that he'll be able to protect the crew from any dangers. They're tied to his heart and soul in a way that if he loses sight of them he might actually lose himself too. So he does not enjoy seeing his swords in somebody else's hands. They can disappear, he will find them. They can run away, he will follow. They can break, he trusts them not to but if they do, he will keep going carrying their bond with him still. But he doesn't like seeing them in somebody else's hands because those are his swords. His limbs. His heart. His soul. It's just not right. It never feels right. But.

But.

But sometimes Luffy acts like he knows what he's doing and actually asks for permission instead of just taking what he wants. As if crossing Zoro's boundaries would be unforgivable, when he knows Zoro would give him anything he wanted to take from him. But he asks. He asks, with a careful, polite, deep voice Zoro isn't used to hearing. But it always ends with the softest of smiles and the petition reaches a place inside of Zoro's heart that he just knows has also touched his swords. So he lets him, because how could he not, and he runs his fingers through all of them. Amazed. Astonished. Respectfully talking to them as if they could hear him. And they can. Zoro knows they hear and feel and love and crave and long for his captain's touch. He knows, because he does too. Because who wouldn't? Luffy holds them in a way he never holds anything else- Carefully. Like they aren't his. Like befriending somebody he fears might reject him. Like taking hold of Zoro's heart and holding him so gently in case he might break him. He worships them as if he weren't the god in this relationship. He looks handsome, too. Not pretty. Not cute. Handsome. Mature. His hat covers his adventurous gaze but leaves his mischievous grin for the whole world to see. And yet, the swordsman trusts him enough. Without any look or any word. He knows Luffy's face by heart, he realizes, now that he can picture his eyes quite too perfectly under his hat. His skin glistens under the sun and his tender fingers hold the sword with so much clumsiness it looks dumb. He doesn't know how to hold them, yet they don't want to move away from him. It's clumsy but it takes over them. Maybe it's his haki. Maybe it's the effect the future king of the pirates has. Zoro thinks it's just him. Luffy. And his heart stops the second Luffy smiles, as if he had just heard the sword respond to him. He wants to kiss him. Bite him. Let him bite back and draw blood and eat him. Let him hold him the way he holds the swords but tighter. Closer. Maybe he's in love. Zoro. With Luffy. It's not a maybe. Who is he trying to trick? He knows he is in love. With the way he smiles and the way he holds and the way he wants but respects and loves. It's funny like that, the fact that Luffy keeps being so careful when Zoro would let him tear his heart apart and eat it if he so desired. It's funny that the swords love him with such gentleness when they often demand power. Perhaps kindness is the most powerful weapon of all or, at least, Luffy's most powerful skill. Zoro hates it when somebody else holds them because they don't own them. They don't own him. He doesn't even own his swords, anyway. Nobody can. They're his the same way he's theirs, just with a bit more dominance and respect. But Luffy isn't owning them. He's praying to them. Talking to them. Befriending them. Loving them. And they would bow to him if he so desired. Zoro knows they would, as fierce as they are and violent as they seem and as sharp as they cut. They'd bow to him because Zoro would too. The uneasiness does not exist when Luffy is the one to hold them because, if Zoro had to give out his soul for somebody to take care of, that would be Luffy. And if he has to be unprotected. Naked. Bare in front of a thousand soldiers. He will if it's Luffy the one fighting instead.

Sometimes Nami wants to hold them just to feel what it's like to be in Zoro's shoes. It's a stupid reason. He refuses to let her do it as an instinctive reaction at first. She doesn't seem as interested in following the protocol as Luffy is, but she knows where to stop and she knows what to say to get on Zoro's nerves, anyway. She's equally as fierce. Equally as sharp. He won't let her hold any cursed sword, but it's not like she wants to. She's smarter than that. Careful and respectful but not that interested in the swords and what they mean, more in how they feel. Zoro gets it. Kind of. Somehow. She says something about always letting them eat her precious tangerines, so he should humor her by letting her hold Wado at least. She isn't pushing him. He knows she wouldn't. She's just teasing because she knows. She always knows. She knows he will say yes. Because he always does what she says, although he keeps demanding a bit of respect to not be treated like a dog. But Nami never forces him to do anything. He could refuse. She would give up at some point. But there's just something about her- Stubbornness. Strength. Love. So much love and care and worry and anger. And Zoro likes her. She's selfish, too, like a pirate should be. Stronger than Zoro in the ways that matter. Smarter, too, even if he wouldn't admit it out loud. But she leads the way and he follows, not because that's a dog's job, but because he wants to. He trusts her. Something he never thought he would. But he does. She's smart. She leads the way. She knows where they're going. They somehow are the same and totally different at the same time. Zoro grounds Luffy when he gets lost. Nami leads them both so they won't. So there's something about her curiosity that makes him soften. He never knows exactly why he does what she says. Why he indulges her like that. But it's satisfying, for some reason he refuses to read within himself, the satisfactory and pleased grin on her face when he hands her Wado. She's careful with her. Awful at holding her. Bad posture. Great smile. Horrible movements. Beautiful eyes. It's okay, though, he thinks. Wado likes her because Zoro likes her. Nami loses interest within a minute, complaining about the weight and the sudden realization of "you always have this thing in your mouth" which makes her want to give her back. But she stares at her for a whole minute. It isn't her thing, but her eyes spark when the sword is returned to Zoro. Trust. A smile. Thankfulness. Her bangs are getting a bit longer and one strand of hair gets in the middle of her teasing smirk. She says she prefers her clima-tact, but swords are fine, "I guess". "She's pretty" she says. Zoro thinks she is pretty. Nami. In a way he can't quite describe because he has never really been good at that. But she is. Like a blade. Sharp. But in the right hands this time for her not to cut the ones she loves anymore. She hands him a tangerine next, every time he lets her hold his sword. An exchange. "I give you something that matters. You give me something that matters". Zoro wants to say it's not the same, but the tangerine is sweet. Juicy. His fingers then smell strongly of citrus. Almost as similar as steel. If he can feel Nami's heartbeat in every bite, he wonders if she has been able to hear his in the hilt of his sword. Calm. Peaceful. Safe.

Zoro doesn't like seeing his swords in somebody else's hands because those are his swords. His limbs. His heart. His soul. It's just not right. It never feels right. But.

But sometimes it does.

#romance dawn trio my beloved #btw it's not meant to be romantic between zoro and nami they're besties and love each other deeply #however it is meant to be extremely romantic between zoro and luffy zoro is very very gay #what is this? idk. why did i write this? idk.#this maybe does not make any sense and i do not care okay #i am just vibing here #as you can see this was supposed to be a short post. it wasn't #i just think there's something about zoro letting nami and luffy hold his swords it makes me soft #this was supposed to be about ALL the crew but the bond these three have is important to me so let's leave it like this #one piece #roronoa zoro #monkey d. luffy #cat burglar nami #nami #romance dawn trio #zolu

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fave-fight · 10 months

Text

ROUND 2, MATCH 25

NO MAGIC, POWERS, WEAPONS, OR ADDITIONAL HELP FROM OTHERS

Perry the Platypus/Agent P:

“I can't submit Dr. Doofenshmirtz without also submitting his nemesis! Perry is just a platypus but he regularly beats up a full-grown man with nothing more than his little platypus fists. He's also a master of disguise as even when Dr. Doof sees him without his signature fedora, he has no idea its really Perry.”

“He always has the element of surprise”

“He's a semi aquatic Egg laying mammal of action (Doo-bee-doo-bee-do-bah) (Doo-bee-doo-bee-do-bah) He's a furry little flatfoot Who never flinched From a fra-ee-ay-ee-ay (Fray) He's got more than just mad skill He's got a beaver tail and bill And the women swoon Whenever they hear him say (Perry's sound) He's Perry, Perry the platypus (You can call him Agent P) Perry (I said you can call him Agent P) Agent P Agent P Agent P”

Reigen Arataka:

“he has so many silly anime special moves like . throwing salt”

“Well, he doesn't break the super strength rule, so he'll at least be allowed into the fist fight! That's something! As for why he'll win, he um. Well I'm not sure honestly, but I'm sure he'll do it somehow. Maybe he'll find a way to sneak some table salt into the match so that he can perform his special technique, the Banishing Salt Punch. Though, if he doesn't cheat, he'll be left with a plain ol punch. The special technique didn't so much damage, but that was on a ghost, and I'm not sure if there will be any ghosts here, and his punch has proved somewhat effective in the series. Maybe he'll somehow get the participants of this poll in a con or something. Maybe the charm that got him the title of the #2 Tumblr Sexyman and made him sweep so many polls will be enough for him to win. Maybe his patheticness will loop around and make him win somehow. He has options”

“Reigen is an "exorcist" who pretends to have psychic powers, but mostly gets his psychic employee(s) to do the exorcisms for him. His primary techniques include throwing salt at his problems, running away, and punching. My favorite technique of his is Self Defense Rush which is where he punches a terrifying psychic but yells "SELF DEFENSE!" in hopes of preventing legal trouble.”

“Remember that one time he dropkicked a psychic? that was fun”

“He’s such a loser he’d lose at anything”

#fight fight fight #round 2 #poll tournament #tournament poll #polls #poll #perry the platypus #agent p #phineas and ferb #reigen arataka #mob psycho 100

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gojonanami · 8 months

Text

BIGGER THAN THE WHOLE SKY - SATORU GOJO

summary: before his fight, you and satoru have an honest conversation about the future. cw: spoilers for manga (pre-sukuna fight), angst, fluff, discussion of afterlife / rebirth, reader is pregnant, reader is satoru's wife, a/n: i saw the spoilers and i needed angsty fluff - it's more bittersweet than anything. word count: 613

It’s the question you didn’t want to ask.

“Will you make it back to me?” you murmur, your chin leaning on his shoulder. A question engineered with the perfect mixture of anxiety of the impending battle and the lateness of the night. You had barely gotten used to the warmth of his body gracing your bed, his long and thick limbs thrown haphazardly over your body, but you couldn’t imagine your sheets growing cold with his absence.

“A guy gets locked up in a box for a few days, and your wife loses all faith in you, hm?” Satoru noses at the nape of your neck, “I’ll always make it back you, baby — it’s you and me,”

“Toru,” you can’t bear to face him, your eyes squeezing shut and willing the tears burning at your eyelids to leave — but you can’t even manage that much, “this is serious, it isn’t hypothetical anymore — you could, you could—” your voice breaks off.

You always thought you’d be the one to go first. You were a grade 1 sorcerer — but what is a soldier compared to a god? The god that wielded unimaginable power, the god that caused the balance of the world to shift, the god who was meant to save the world — but more than that, he was your husband — the one who made you laugh without fail, the one who had been your best friend from day one, and the one who made you feel safe by just being him, Satoru Gojo, not the strongest, just your husband.

And the mirth leaves his voice, as he forces you to face him, his irises made of skies you couldn’t even imagine never seeing again — “If I don’t make it back, you know I’ll always be waiting for you, in the afterlife or the next one,” he kisses your lips softly, “but I will do everything I can to make it back, sweetheart — and that’s a promise I can make,” and his hand slides up to your stomach, “and if I don’t, at least I left you with the perfect parting gift,”

“Don’t,” and tears slip down your face, “I can’t do this without you,”

You wanted a family, but not a family without him, without him — what was the point? Was there even one if he wasn’t there to raise your child with you?

“Baby, there isn’t a thing you can’t do without me,” he chuckles quietly, “you’d lift the moon with your back and hang the stars for our child without a second thought — because you did the same for me,” his lips are ghosting over every inch of your face, “you saved me, the me that was me,” and his lips find yours, sliding over them, and you taste the cherry candy he was eating earlier, “and the me that loves you is here right now, so let’s focus on that,”

“Satoru Gojo, if you don’t make it back to me, I’m going to kick your ass,” and he laughs, your favorite sound in the absolute world, before he kisses you again, his hands cupping your face so gently — and you remembered the first time he did that, you wondered how someone so strong could be so gentle.

“Somehow, I’m more scared of that than the King of Curses” he teases, a wide grin on his lips, before rolling you over so he is on top of you, his thumb wiping away the evidence of your tears, “thank you,” he kisses your forehead.

“For what?” you smile up at your beautiful, goofy husband, and he only cups your chin, as he leans down to kiss you, his fingers ghosting over your stomach again.

“For everything.”

#jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #jjk #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo fanfiction #gojo fanfiction #satoru gojo fluff #sab [mlist]

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