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awkwardauthorwrites · 6 months

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What If (You Were Made For Me)

Word Count: 6.2k

Themes: pining, angst if you squint, two idiots in love, fluff

Summary: Halsin realises he’s in love with his best friend, Tav

Warnings: brief mentions of alcohol. Like one swear word. I almost made myself cry writing this.

(I haven’t written since The Devil Doesn’t Bargain, please be nice. BG3 and specifically this druid has me in a chokehold, your honour I love this man, I am feral for him, he consumes my every waking and sleeping thought)

Halsin watched Tav from across the campfire, his brow furrowed as she spoke to Astarion with a smile on her face. She had been avoiding him recently and no matter how hard he wracked his brain, he couldn’t seem to put a finger on why. It had started small, with going on supply runs with anyone except for him until she gradually stopped training with him, she steered clear of his favourite parts of camp, and eventually it built up to her making excuses to not spend any more time with him than completely necessary. The explanations she gave always sounded sincere, but it had all been happening for weeks, and now there she was, sitting on the opposite end of the campfire instead of next to him and laughing and talking with Astarion.

He felt himself begin to frown as Tav gave Astarion a playful shove, a laugh escaping her as the rogue tried to wrap an arm around her shoulders to pull her back in. He watched with bated breath as Tav’s eyes lit up when Astarion held his hand out in front of her again, slowly showing her how he twirled a coin in between his fingers and how to make it look like it disappeared with a flourish. Halsin couldn’t understand it - it felt like only a few weeks ago that Tav and Astarion had regarded each other with cool indifference, but ever since the days they took to recuperate she had practically been glued to the rogue’s side. Tav took the coin from Astarion and attempted the sleight of hand herself, her face one of pure concentration. She made it to the final turn of the coin before she fumbled it and it slipped from her grasp, a low groan slipping from her as it fell to the floor.

Halsin didn’t want to admit how he was feeling as he watched them interact, but he hated it. His chest felt tight and his gut rolled with anger and jealousy. Especially when Astarion leant in to murmur something in Tav’s ear, his voice too low for Halsin to hear what he had said to make her face flush the most delicate shade of pink. She laughed again and shook her head, her nose wrinkling the way it did when she found something unbelievable. She nudged Astarion again, softer this time as he scoffed and stood up, stretching her arms above her head as she let the pale elf know she would be right back before she wandered into the treeline. Halsin watched her disappear from sight and wanted nothing more than to follow her and ask her what had happened, to figure out when everything had changed between them. The thing in his chest clenched tighter at his heart with every second she was gone and he was torn between waiting for her return or going after her.

“You know,” Astarion drawled, breaking Halsin out of his thoughts. “You can go after her, if you’d like.”

“And you can mind your own business,” Halsin snaps back, feeling unlike himself as he glares at the rogue. “She’s more than capable of taking care of herself, especially when she’ll only be gone a few moments.” To his credit, Astarion doesn’t flinch at the druid’s harsh tone or at the way his eyes flash gold in warning to reveal the beast that is itching to be released.

“Oh?” Astraion smirks, his fingers twirling the coin Tav had been holding earlier with practised ease. “With the way you’re acting like a scorned lover I never would have guessed. Green may be your colour but jealousy doesn’t suit you.” Halsin’s fists clench by his side and before he can even think about what he’s doing he’s stood from his seat and stalking his way across to Astarion, his jaw tight with anger and annoyance. The more rational part of his brain is telling him to calm down, that he can’t beat Astarion to a pulp just because he had struck a (annoyingly accurate) nerve, but the bear inside him is fighting its way out and wants to -

“Halsin,” Tav’s voice rings out from behind him, her tone sharp. He stops a few steps away from Astarion and turns to face her, his ire slowly seeping away as he looks at her. She looks equal parts confused and concerned at his out of character anger, although she also seems to be a little annoyed with him too from the glare she’s giving him. “I don’t know what Astarion said to piss you off, and I’m sure he deserves the punch you’re about to give him, but why don’t we leave the violence for the near daily threats we face, hm?” Her eyebrow is raised and she looks less than amused at the scene in front of her while Astarion dramatically places a hand on his chest, feigning outrage at her words.

“I…I apologise,” he mutters, embarrassment settling in his gut at his behaviour. He risks a glance at Astarion, who is watching him with vague interest and a hint of a smirk, before shaking his head and turning back to Tav. “I don’t know what came over me.” Her gaze softens as he looks back at her and she takes a few steps forward until she’s right in front of him, standing closer than she has been in weeks. Her hand grasps one of his fists to loosen his body language and she gently tugs at his sleeve.

“Come take a walk with me.” It’s not so much a request as a demand as she lets go of his sleeve and takes his hand in hers and begins to pull him away from the campfire. Astarion begins to whistle the tune for a bawdy ballad and without missing a step Tav leans down to grab a rock and throws it at his head. She doesn’t stop to see if it hit him or not (because of course it didn’t, thanks to his ability to uncannily dodge every blow that comes his way) and leads Halsin into the treeline, ignoring how loudly Astarion is laughing behind them.

“What’s happening? Is something wrong?” Her touch is like magic, and if he didn’t know any better he would think she’s cast a spell on him with how fast the tension leaves his body as he wraps his hand around hers. All the anger, the annoyance, the jealousy that he had been feeling earlier fades away as she pulls him deeper into the woods until they come across the small river they use to wash up in.

“You tell me,” she says, letting go of his arm once they reach their destination. She turns to face him, a fire in her eyes as she crosses her arms and looks up at him. “You’re the calmest person I have ever met. So tell me why you were about to swing at Astarion with more anger than I saw you direct at Minthara when she tried to raze the Grove to the ground.”

“Astarion-” Halsin breaks off, feeling slightly uneasy with the glare she’s directing at him. He had seen her use the look more times than he could count, but it was never directed at him. “It was nothing. It was stupid.”

“Clearly it wasn’t nothing because you looked seconds away from shifting into your bear form and ripping him to shreds,” she snaps. Halsin’s head dips down and he runs a hand through his hair warily as her tone suddenly makes him feel like he’s a boy all over again being chided by his tutors. Tav sighs and she steps forward slightly, her hand brushing his. “Look at me,” she says softly, the anger draining out of her voice.

Halsin lifts his head fractionally to look at her and sees nothing but kindness and concern in her gaze. Her expression is soft as she steps closer, and he itches to pull her into his arms and never let go but he can’t. He can’t because she is his closest friend and he doesn’t want to scare her away and despite believing the heart should be able to roam free he isn’t sure if hers belongs to Astarion or not and he doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries.

“What did he say?” Tav asks again, her voice gentle. “I’ve never seen you that angry before, Hal, so it can’t have been stupid.” Halsin’s heart thuds in his chest as she steps so close he can feel the heat from her body, and the way the nickname she’s given him rolls off her lips makes him want to fall to her feet and beg for forgiveness.

“He called me a scorned lover,” he mumbles angrily, turning away from her again. His face feels hot under her gaze and he doesn’t have it in him to watch her reaction as he repeats the rogue’s words. “He insinuated I was jealous of him because you’re spending more time with him than me.”

“Oh.” Tav blinks, clearly not expecting that answer and stumbles back a few steps, her teeth tugging at her lower lip in a nervous habit that set Halsin on edge every time she did it. “So you...you were going to hit him? Because he made some false, asinine insinuation that he and I were together and I had tossed you aside?” Halsin can’t tell if she sounds angry or not and he’s suddenly apprehensive at replying to her. He can usually read her like the back of his hand - and she can do the same for him - so why couldn’t he tell what was running through her mind right now?

“Is it false?” he asks, turning to face her again, his voice quiet. “You’ve been avoiding me for weeks, you’ve been spending your time with him. How could I not think that?” Halsin knows he’s said the wrong thing the minute the fire flashes back in her eyes and she steps closer to him again, her finger prodding him in the chest as she speaks.

“So what if I was seeing him? We’re not together Halsin, we never have been. You don’t get to throw punches at every person I meet just because I spend a little time with them!” Her voice rises steadily as she speaks and she turns her back on him and takes a few steps away, a hand running through her hair in frustration before she whirls back to face him. “I’m not seeing Astarion, by the way, and not that it matters, but I’m not seeing anyone right now.”

“So why not me?” he blurts out, his eyes shining gold in suppressed rage. “Why is he the one you spend your time with and not me? Why does he get to steal you away from me? Why can’t I be the one to make you laugh for hours and be the sole recipient of your affection and time?”

“You-” Tav lets out a hollow laugh. “You’re joking, right? I’ve waited months - months - for you to stop looking at me like a child that needs protection. For you to look at me the way I’ve wanted you to since the moment we first spoke properly at that party after we saved the tieflings and the Grove. And now you start acting like you want me back?” She’s not shouting, but every word has Halsin flinching as if she had. “Now that I’ve finally decided I shouldn’t pine after you anymore because I’m nothing more than your best friend and you’ll never look at me the way I want you to?”

“You…” Halsin can feel his heart pudding in his chest at her revelation. He feels like someone has just yanked a rug out from underneath him and he’s free falling, but at the same time his heart soars knowing she feels the same way as he does. That she wants him just as much as he wants her. “Why didn’t you say something? Why didn’t you just tell me?” He reaches out so he can touch her, so he can hold her. “I never thought…I didn’t want to let myself hope-”

“How could I tell you?” She steps away before he can touch her and he swears his heart cracks as her eyes go misty and tears begin to well up. “You’re my best friend, Halsin. How was I supposed to tell you that somewhere along these months of travelling you’ve tripped me up and I’m head over heels in love with you?” The tears fall down her face and she wipes at them angrily. “How was I supposed to tell you that after you slept with someone else only a few days after I drunkenly came onto you?”

He feels his heart shatter at the sight of her tears, as he vaguely recalls the evening she’s talking about. They had stopped for a much needed break at a tavern and every single one of them had gotten ridiculously drunk as they unwound for the night. She had come up to him, her face red from either the alcohol or nerves and had run a hand down his chest in a way that set every nerve of his alight as she seductively murmured in his ear and asked him to join her in her rooms for the night. He had declined, even though every part of him screamed not to. He didn’t want her to regret things in the morning when she woke and had a clear head, he didn’t want to put their friendship at risk like that. A few nights later in the same tavern an elven warrior had come over to him when they were all significantly less drunk and had barely finished propositioning him before he whisked them away to a room for the night.

“Tav,” his voice is hoarse and he feels like someone is running a sword through him. She never brought up asking him to sleep with her in the following days and he had assumed that meant she was embarrassed or didn’t remember doing it. When the elf had come up to him later and asked the same from him he never stopped to think about how it would make her feel. How it would look to anyone else. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” he asks eventually, “because you’re in love with me?”

“Yes,” she takes another step away from him as he tries to get closer. “I’m not proud of it, and seeing your face drop every time I made an excuse not to be around you felt like someone was shoving a dagger into my heart,” she puts her hand to her chest, the tears falling freely down her face now, “but I had to do it. You…you’re everything I’ve ever wanted and more and I couldn’t be around you because it killed me to know you would never feel the same. The final nail in the coffin was when you slept with that elf. They were fucking stunning and I knew then you would never want me like I want you.”

“How can you say I don’t want you like that?” he rasps. “Have you not seen the way I’ve looked at you? Do you know how much effort it took to resist you?” He tries to inch closer to her, his body screaming to wipe her tears away and pull her into a tight embrace.

“Congratulations, would you like a medal?” Her tone is sarcastic as she slips away from his touch yet again. “Well done on showing some restraint with me when the Oak Father knows you’ll fuck anyone else with a pulse.” Her breathing is heavy as she glares at him in equal parts anger and heartbreak. “You thought Astarion and I had something going on and you almost ripped him to shreds. Imagine how it felt for me, watching you take someone else to your bed.”

“You’re right,” he admits. “How many times have I done this to you? How many times have I pushed you away, assuming I know what’s best for you when you’re more than capable of deciding yourself who you want to sleep with. Who you want to be with.” He takes a deep breath and he lowers his walls so she can see just how much she means to him. “You’re everything I want - everything I have ever wanted. And you always will be.” His words have the opposite effect he was hoping for and she sinks to the ground, a gut-wrenching sob leaving her as she covers her face and begins to cry.

He falls to his knees beside her, his arms reaching out to pull her into his embrace and tell her just how in love with her he is, but he hesitates inches away knowing she will only pull further away from him if he follows through. His hands land uselessly at his lap and he feels his own eyes burn as tears threaten to well up at the sound of her anguish. He blinks them away, he hasn’t earned the right to be upset, not when he’s hurt her so deeply.

“I understand if you don’t believe me,” he says instead, his voice low and full of emotion. “If you tell me to leave right now, I will. Or if it will make you feel better to yell at me some more I’ll stay and take it. I’ll do whatever you want - whatever you need.” He pauses, hoping the words he’s about to say don’t hurt her further. “Please believe me, Tav.”

“Would you have told me?” she asks, her voice thick with tears. “If you hadn’t thought I was with Astarion, would you have ever told me?” She looks up at him and her red-rimmed eyes only cleaves his heart further in two. “If you didn’t think my heart belonged to somebody else would you even have realised how you feel about me?” He pauses as she speaks; he doesn’t want to lie to her, but he knows in his soul she won’t be pleased with the answer he’s going to give her.

“No,” he whispers eventually. “It took seeing you with him to realise I was in love with you, and I wish every day that I hadn’t needed that reminder. I should have seen it the moment we met, the way you made me feel…” He lets out a shaky breath and rubs the back of his neck. “I’m an idiot.” Tav inhales sharply at his words and nods to herself, her jaw clenching tightly as if she’s trying to stop herself from falling apart again.

“Well, you won’t hear any arguments from me.” She looks up at him for a few seconds before she looks away again, tears welling back in her eyes as she stands up. “I’m tired. I’m going back to camp.” She doesn’t ask him to follow her, but he does anyway, stumbling to his feet as he follows her back through the trees. He walks in silence by her side as she leads them back to camp, his body heavy and his mind spinning. The one person he wanted in the world was right next to him and he had never felt so far away from her. They return to the camp and all eyes are on them, especially when they take note of the tears that have yet to dry on Tav’s face.

Astarion sits up as she walks over to him and throws her arms around his shoulders and begins to sob into his shirt. The vampire clearly doesn’t know how to react, but after a moment he wraps his arms back around Tav and holds her close, walking her away so that everyone in camp isn’t privy to her breakdown. Halsin bites the inside of his cheek and looks away as Astarion does what he can’t and comforts Tav as she cries. He knows now that she doesn’t have romantic feelings for the pale elf, but that doesn’t stop his chest from clenching tightly as Astarion’s hands rest on her waist and run through her hair comfortingly.

“You’re an idiot, you know,” Shadowheart sidles up to him, her tone dry. She has an unamused expression on her face as she stares up at Halsin, her arms crossed in front of her chest. Karalch gives her a gentle nudge and offers Halsin an apologetic smile.

“I know,” he agrees instantly. “I want nothing more than to give her the comfort he’s providing her right now, and it breaks my heart that I’ve caused her this much pain without even realising it. Seeing Astarion hold her like that…I wish it was me, but I’m glad she kind find some solace in someone here.”

“She doesn’t love him, you know. They’re only friends.” Shadowheart nods her head towards Tav and Astarion. “He’s been trying to help her catch your eye for a while now.” Halsin blinks, the information catching him off guard.

“Astarion is trying to help her?”

“And you,” Shadowheart turns her head to glare at him. “Astarion has been trying to help her with her confidence so she could test the waters and flirt a little with you. And then you had to go and reject her when she finally tried to tell you how she felt only to sleep with someone else a few days later?” The cleric looks mad now, and Halsin has no doubt in his mind that if they were in a more secluded part of the camp she would be yelling and cursing him out for treating Tav the way he had.

“Nothing I say will ever be able to erase what I did, no matter how much I wish it could.” He lets out a sigh and looks over at Astarion and Tav again. The rogue has pulled her across the camp to her tent and through the open flaps he can see she’s lying down on her bedroll, her head in Astarion’s lap as his fingers run through her hair. “How long has he been trying to help?”

“Does it matter?” Shadowheart asks, her tone sharp. “You never even looked twice at Tav until you thought Astarion was interested in her. No one wants to be made a choice after they become unobtainable - or in this case assumedly unobtainable.” There’s a soft expression on Astarion’s face as he comforts Tav, one Halsin has never seen before. For a split second he wonders if she’s better off without him in her life, whether that’s as a friend or more, but the selfish part of him can’t bear to leave her.

“Just give her some time, soldier,” Karlach steps forward, ignoring the glare Shadowheart shoots at her. “She’s hurt, it won’t do any good to speak to her right now, you’ll only push her further away. Give her a few days.” He gives Karlach a nod and looks back over at the campsite, wanting to disappear into the trees and give Tav the space she clearly needs, no matter how much it will hurt him.

Shadowheart and Karlach walk away, leaving Halsin alone again. He watches Astarion cup Tav’s face in her hands and wipe away the last of her tears, muttering something he’s too far away to hear before he kisses her on the forehead. Tav lets out a weak laugh and shakes her head, and the scene grips Halsin’s chest painfully tight. He shakes his head and walks back into the treeline, his eyes glowing gold as he shifts into his cave bear form and darts into the woods.

One Week Later

Halsin trudges back into camp, feeling weary and more than a little exhausted, and is a little surprised to see everything is still in its place and the group hasn’t moved on without him. He shifts back into his elf form, shuddering slightly as his body protests and walks towards his tent, giving awkward smiles and nods to Gale and Jaheira, who wave in greeting at him.

“Hey, soldier!” Karlach grins when she sees him, raising her tankard of ale in greeting as she bounds over. “Welcome back, it’s good to see you.” For a moment it looks like she’s about to pull Halsin into a hug, but decides against it at the last minute. She watches his eyes dart around the camp, no doubt looking for Tav or even Astarion, and his hopeful expression falls when he sees neither. “She’s in town gathering supplies,” the tiefling lowers her voice considerably so no one can hear them. “We’re running a little low after she all but forced us to stay here and wait for you to come back.” Halsin looks at her in surprise, but she just shrugs as if she hadn’t said anything and takes another sip of her drink.

“I assume Astarion has gone with her?”

“You assume wrong.” The white-haired elf walks by, a book in his hands. “I’d say it’s good to see you again but…” Astarion grimaces and takes in Halsin’s dishevelled appearance. A week of wandering through the woods as a bear has left him looking more than a little worse for wear, with dirt and dust covering him from head to toe, and what felt like a small bird’s nest worth of twigs tangled in his hair. “You look like shit. You should get cleaned up before she’s back, the gods know she’ll only be more upset at you dragging yourself back here looking half dead.” He walks away and settles outside his tent, sipping idly from a glass of wine as he continues to read.

“Wyll went with her,” Karlach fills the awkward silence. “We needed a lot, so he’s gone to help her carry everything.” Her gaze softens as she looks him over, taking note of his tangled hair and the dust on his clothes. “She’s missed you, you know. She’ll be glad you’re back.” Halsin feels something in his chest loosen at the words and he hopes the barbarian is right.

“Do you know when she’ll be back?”

“Soon, probably. I’m not saying Astarion was right but uh…you might want to consider getting cleaned up before then. No offence,” Karlach wrinkles her nose playfully and Halsin can’t help but let out a quiet chuckle, the sound foreign to his ears. He runs a hand through his hair, wincing as he catches on a large knot and lets out a quiet sigh. The thought of Tav coming back to see the state he’s in pushes him to move, and he mutters a quick see you later to Karlach before making his way to his tent to grab some clean clothes and his supplies.

He’s soon down by the river, trying not to think about the last time he stood there and the heartbreak on Tav’s face as he strips down and scrubs the week in the forest from his body and his dirty clothes. He pulls more twigs and leaves out than he thought possible and it isn’t long before he’s walking back to camp, a towel slung over his shoulder and his now cleaned and dry outfit in his hands while he wears fresh clothes. Karlach is still drinking when he returns, her feet propped up on a bench as she basks in the sun, Shadowheart curled beside her as she sips from her own goblet.

“Halsin?” He would recognise her voice anywhere. He turns around to see Tav a few feet away, a large supply pack hanging from her shoulder. It falls to the floor with a thump as she takes a hesitant step forward. “Is it really you? Are you back?” Her voice is as soft as a whisper, and he barely registers as Wyll picks her discarded pack up and walks away, giving them both some much needed space. Halsin feels like his heart is caught in his throat. All at once he wants to pull her into his arms, he wants to fall to the floor in front of her and beg forgiveness, he wants to hide from her again but he also wants to yell from the mountains that he loves her and will do anything to fix what he broke.

“Oak Father’s blessings, Tav,” he places his fist on his chest in greeting, his voice hoarse. He takes a small step closer to her before hesitating. He wants her to decide where they go from here. She is all he wants, but he doesn’t want to push himself onto her. He doesn’t have time to finish the thought in his head before she’s dashing across the camp and throwing herself at him, her arms wrapping around his shoulders tightly, her legs dangling because of their height difference. Her head is buried in his neck and for a moment he forgets how to breathe let alone hug her back. He’s stunned for a few moments, and more than a little relieved that she hasn’t outright told him to shove off, and his arms wrap around her waist, holding her close. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice catching in his throat. “I’m so sorry.”

She doesn’t reply, and instead she holds onto him a little tighter and he can feel the collar of his short go damp as she begins to cry silently. His eyes slip closed as he pulls her closer and he wills himself to keep it together as he uses one of his arms to grip her legs, prompting her to wrap them around his waist so that they aren’t dangling in midair. He presses a kiss to her forehead, his heart stuttering as she doesn’t pull away or snap at him not to touch her and he’s only vaguely aware that the rest of the camp is being ushered away by Shadowheart and Karlach so the pair can have their moment. Once everyone has disappeared, Tav pulls back and steps out of Halsin’s arms. He itches to pull her back but the glare she’s sending him makes him reconsider.

“Don’t ever do that again!” she snaps, pushing him slightly. She doesn’t do it with enough force to move him, but surprise and confusion flits across his face. “You can’t just disappear like that for a week, Halsin! No one knew where you were, you didn’t leave a note - what if something had happened to you? How was I supposed to know you weren’t hurt or captured or even dead?”

His mouth flops open uselessly at her reprimand, an apology on the tip of his tongue that suddenly feels unbearingly inadequate. He can see it on the exhaustion on her face, in the dark rings under her eyes. He thought leaving and giving her some space was the right thing to do, but just like when he had slept with that elf he hadn’t stopped to consider how it would make her feel. At the time he didn’t think she would care he was gone - she was an inconsolable wreck when he left - he hadn’t realised that Tav, let alone anyone else, would have no way of getting into touch with him while he was away. The silence between them is so loud that his ears ring, and yet he still can’t find the words to say. Sorry doesn’t even begin to cover the pain he’s put her through.

“You’re… you’re not hurt, right?” she asks, the anger leaving her voice as she stares at him, assessing him for any damage that she can’t see. He tries to respond with a quip or a clever comment, but he can’t. The guilt weighs too heavy on his heart right now.

“My pride, perhaps.” He offers her a weak smile as she scrutinises him. “I didn’t mean to worry you while I was away. I just wanted to give you some space.” She opens her mouth to reply but it seems it’s her turn to be unsure of what to say. She wraps her arms around her waist and looks around at the now empty camp and tilts her head towards the unlit fire.

“We should probably talk. I promise I won’t shout and poke you this time.” A weak smile falls on her lips as she makes her way over and sits down on one of the logs. Halsin gives her a weak smile and follows, sitting on the tree stump opposite her. He has so many thoughts rushing through his mind, so many things he wants to say to her, but when he opens his mouth to say them all that comes out is an incoherent mumble followed by a low sigh.

“I don’t know where to start, either,” she laughs nervously and runs a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry for how I reacted last week. I didn’t mean to explode on you. It’s not an excuse, but I was just so hurt and angry and I felt a little betrayed and…I’m sorry.”

“I deserved it.”

“Maybe,” she gives him a faint, teasing smile and he feels like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. “Hal…” She hesitates again, chewing on her lower lip. “Did you mean what you told me? When you said I was everything you want and that you-” she breaks off, her face flushing, but the words hang in the air. Did he mean it when he said he loved her? His face softens and he nods.

“I did. I meant every word and I still do.” His voice is soft as he slides into a seat closer to her and holds a hand out in offering. He’ll let her decide if she wants to take it. From here on out she makes the calls on where they stand. He can live with being just a friend to her if it means having her in his life. “I understand if you don’t feel the same way about me anymore, given all that’s happened, but I want you to know.” She fidgets in her seat and her face turns the most enticing shade of pink as she places her hand in his and squeezes gently. Halsin has to struggle not to pull her onto his lap and wrap his arms around her, but he reminds himself that she’s in charge here.

“I meant what I said too. Somewhere along the way while we’ve travelled I...I just fell so hard and fast for you. You mean the entire world to me, Hal. I don’t know what I would do without you.” She swallows and looks up at him and how did he ever think she didn’t have feelings for him when she looked at him like that? He was blind to have not seen it before. “I’m not going to lie, it stings that you only wanted me after you thought I was taken by someone else. But...I’m selfish. I love you, Hal. I-I’m putting my heart on the line here, I want to be with you. I want to be yours and I want you to be mine.”

“Tav,” he whispers, pushing himself to his knees in front of her. “My heart does not stir easily, but…” he pauses to let out a quiet, warm chuckle. “I feel like it never truly started beating until I met you. Nature outdid itself with you, and the Oak Father will have truly blessed me if he allowed you to be by my side. My heart is yours, as is every other part of me.” Tav lets out a breathless laugh at his words and sinks down so she is also kneeling in front of him, her hand winding around his shoulders so she can fiddle with his unbound hair.

“And mine is yours,” she murmurs, a smile flitting across her face as his hands come to rest on her waist. He pulls her onto his lap like he’s wanted to since he first realised he had fallen for her, and he’s rewarded with a beautiful blush and coy smile.

“You’re all I want. I don’t even want to look at anyone else but you.” He leans in, his lips brushing across her jaw softly before he places a kiss on her cheek. “My love, my heart, my soul; they’re all yours.” Her breathing hitches and her fingers tangle themselves in her hair in response and she leans in, her lips a breath away from his

“Halsin, may I kiss you?”

“I was hoping you would ask.” He closes the gap between them, his lips brushing hers tenderly once, twice and a third time before he grips her hips and kisses her like he’ll never have the chance to again. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the feeling of her hands in his hair, or the sweet sounds she makes as he pulls her impossibly closer, but he relishes the feeling all the same as they more than make up for their lost time.

#halsin fanfiction #halsin x tav #halsin x y/n #halsin x you #halsin x reader #halsin #halsin bg3 #halsin x fem!reader #halsin fluff #halsin angst #astarion #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #awkwardauthormasterlist #awkwardauthorwrites #awkwardauthor

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janners · 1 year

Text

Forgive and Forget

Ao’nung x deaf!reader

warnings : little angst, Fluff, little bit of violence

wordcount : 9.9k

a/n : writing angst is so fun, but I also can’t write fluff for shit lol. Also bolded italics are when they are using sign language and just bolded is normal talking. Also I'm not good at coming up with titles, also not sure if I like this work sooo yea.

Being born into the family of Toruk Makto brings great joy for everyone. One problem, physical disabilities. Children turn to their mothers and fathers, for their comforting words and lullabies. But for you, you could only rely on touch and vibrations as your ears have been blessed with silence. Ever since you were born, you could not hear anything but muffled noises until it developed into silence.

Jake and Neytiri were stunned not knowing how to react as the great mother gifted them a child of tìkakpam(deafness). A child brought into a world of danger and curiosity who is at a disadvantage in many aspects. They brought you to Norm hoping that there was a way to assist you in any way. Normally hearing aids would be the answer but unfortunately the anatomy of a Na’vi is much different compared to a human.

Norm promised them that he would find some sort of solution.

As the years passed, the more you grew. Most of your life was within the village. Jake and Neytiri wanted you to be safe knowing that hearing is a big part of their lives when it comes to sensing things around them. Though for you, you felt as if you were a burden. Having to constantly be with someone at all times and not being able to explore with your siblings. You understood the dangers that lurk beyond the village lines, but only once did you want to experience what others experience.

Learning also took you a little longer compared to other kids around you. You didn’t have a way of communicating with anyone until Jake remembered that sign language existed. Working with Norm, they created Na’vi sign language for you to learn. As they slowly introduced the new language to you, the more eager you were to learn. A fast learner is what they saw you as. Just within a year of practising and learning, you were amazingly advanced for your age - or at least amongst humans as Norm put it.

Being 17, you were allowed to have a bit more freedom compared to when you were younger. Even if you couldn’t go out as far as the rest, you still had certain areas you were allowed to explore. You also passed your lknimaya with little effort, just like Kiri the Ikran chose you without wanting to kill you. It seemed as though the great mother gave both you and Kiri close connections to her. Your Ikran had a deep purple colour with delicate black, yellow, and light purple accents covering its body - her name being flefle.

You had a routine that you followed everyday. Wake up, stretch, eat, then head out to do your chores. Your chores only really consisted of joining the gathering group to collect plants and fruit for the clan, as well as training under Mo’at with Kiri. Though on special days, you get to teach children sign language hoping that a second language could be learned throughout the clan. The children adored you, being gentle and patient with them and even goofing off made them love you as a teacher.

Unfortunately, the one day you decided to go against your parents' rules was the day you’d get caught by uniltìrantokxolo'. It all started with Tuk complaining that Lo’ak wouldn’t take her with him to explore the forest. Tuk had ran up to you as you were weaving some baskets, she quickly signed “Lo’ak is being a meanie, he won’t take me with him to the forest with the others. Can you please tell him that he has to take me!”

You give her a small smile in amusement knowing how Lo’ak and Tuk are half the time. You put the half done basket done to sign back “TukTuk, you know it isn’t very safe in the forest especially when you are still my little baby sister” she could only pout knowing that you are right but she tried asking you once more “Please y/n, I’ll be safe I swear on Eywa plus Lo’ak is strong enough to protect us and if not then he must suck as a warrior” You huffed in delight, you told Tuk to stay put as you went to go talk to Lo’ak about it.

Walking towards him seeing as he is ready to go to the labs before embarking on his adventure with Kiri. You quickly clap to grab his attention, he turns to the noise - once he saw you he could only sigh, especially with Tuk trailing behind you. You gave him a head tilt with a knowing look, he could only roll his eyes knowing what this was about.

“Tuk what did I tell you about telling y/n?”

Tuk stuck her tongue out to Lo’ak hoping it would offend him. He scrunched his nose at her giving a disgruntled look. You walked in front of him, giving him a flick on his forehead and making sharp gestures after. “Are you trying to go exploring again? You know how father reacts when you do things like this especially sa’nok when you bring Spider with you”

He gave you a deadpanned look since his conversation happens every time he tries to go out and explore. “How come you don’t tell Kiri this?” feeling a little insulted (sarcastically) when you only talked to him about this. “Kiri knows her limits unlike your skxawng ass”

He could only make a mocking face with his mouth imitating your words. You rolled your eyes at him now. You turn to Kiri hoping that they’ll be safe. “Are you guys going to stay in the areas we are allowed to and not go to the prohibited areas?” Kiri gives a curt nod “I’ll try to, you know how Lo’ak gets' ' Before she finished her sentence an idea popped into her mind. “Why don’t you come with us for once?!” You only sigh. “Sempu and Sa’nok would not like that you know, I think you forgot about my rules that they’ve set for me”

Lo’ak watching the interaction between you two made him throw his hands in the air in exasperation. “Eywa, just come with us for once and not be a stick in the mud Tsmuke” You gave him an irritated look when he signed “stick in the mud” but he wasn’t wrong.

Tuk suddenly jumped up from her spot just now forming what they had said.

“Lo’ak pleeaasse convince y/n to come with us, that way she won’t have to worry about me”

He only groaned just wanting to leave now. “Just come with us y/n, just this one time before Tuk keeps complaining?” You gave him an unsure look knowing how your parents would react to you being out of the safety zones of the village. But you thought, only one time couldn’t hurt what’s the worst that could happen, right? Finally you gave in, Lo’ak content and Tuk cheering. You all walk off towards the lab to grab Spider - your relationship with Spider isn’t very existent since you don’t see him very often.

As you enter the lab, Lo’ak and Kiri go their own way as you head towards Norm and Max. Giving a quick hello to them, you walk closer to them curious on what they’re working on. Taking a closer look, you gave Norm a knowing glance, he had been working on a hearing aid equipped for Na’vi ears. You tap his shoulder “Uncle Norm, I have told you already that you do not need to do this for me. I feel bad that you are taking your time on just this.” Norm turns to you with a bleak look on his face. “Don’t feel bad, I want this for you, I want you to be able to experience what we hear in your beautiful home plus you are my niece, of course I would do this for you.”

Just before you could respond back, Tuk drags you away to the entrance doors. Waving Norm bye before Tuk could drag you any further. Going out you see the three of them waiting for you and Tuk. “Hello Spider” he gave you a small smile before signing "Hi” back. He didn’t mind you either, although he didn’t know much about you it seemed as though you didn’t judge him for what he is and he appreciated it. All of you were now venturing off into the dense forest. You follow closely behind Kiri as you weren’t as familiar to the paths like the rest. You snap your fingers to grab Lo’aks attention once more, “Where are we even going?” Giving you a mischievous grin he said “A surprise” which could only mean bad things knowing how he is.

Continuing to walk through the plants for a couple more minutes before Lo’ak made everyone stop. You bump into Kiri’s back giving her a questioning stare, she gestured you to crouch down to the ground. You weren’t as to why, you turned to see what Lo’ak was doing, making us stop suddenly. He was looking in a certain direction, you followed his gaze just to fall on an old abandoned shack. Oh no, the shack we’re not allowed to come to. You waddled over to Lo’ak giving him a slap on his back. “Are you crazy?” You made hurried movements with your hands to show that you were annoyed with him. “This area is prohibited to all of us”

He gave you an annoyed glance before talking with Spider. You threw your head back while plopping down onto the dirt below you. You signed to Kiri that this was a dumb idea. She could only agree. Just before you guys decided to leave, your brother found tracks in the mud. They were fairly large considering that it was a boot mark. “You don’t think it is uniltìrantokx do you?” Giving them a worried look while pulling Tuk closer to your body. Their ears folded down seeing as it may be the only thing that made those marks. Lo’ak quickly communicated to our father about our findings.

He gestured to all of us to go quickly and quietly back to the village. “Lo’ak is it Skypeople?”

He nods briefly, you felt upset at yourself for allowing this to happen. You hold Tuk and Kiris hands as you try to navigate back home. Abruptly Tuk was stolen out of your grasp by a dreamwalker. You tried reaching out to her desperately wanting to pull her back before another dreamwalker pulled you by your kuru. You let out a strangled noise, panic coursing through your body from the sudden shock. They kicked your legs to make you kneel, you see they rest being captured the same being done to them.

You watch as they start talking, not understanding a word coming from their mouths. Lo’ak talking as well and making a vulgar gesture to the uniltìrantokx. You couldn’t focus well, your breathing uneven, pupils shrinking in fear.

“Hey shut that girl up, her breathing is too loud for me to hear this boy”

“Got it colonel”

Someone grabbed your cheeks harshly making you look at them. They were spewing words out as if they were yelling. You panic more seeing that they were angry with you, not being able to respond. You close your eyes, shaking your head vigorously.

“LET HER GO YOU ASSHOLES, SHE’S DEAF SHE CAN’T UNDERSTAND YOU”

The grip on your face loosened, your panicked state still present. Your eyes shift to Lo’ak as he gestured to you to calm down. You tried to slow your breathing down as you continued to witness the interactions between your siblings and the dreamwalkers. As time passed it grew dark, waiting for your family to come help you all. You glance over to Tuk making sure she was okay, her ears suddenly perked. Watching as the rest of them seem alerted by something.

It was a blur really, you were on the ground, next thing you knew an arrow shot across hitting one of the avatars. Guns started shooting near you, the one time you were glad not to hear those scary machines. Not knowing what to do, Lo’ak ran to grab you off the ground. Finally reaching the dense trees and bushes for cover, he asked if you were okay. “I’m okay, are you alright though?” He gave you a small nod. Only a minute later everyone else had found the two of you. Relief washes over Jake and Neytiri's faces seeing everyone was unscathed.

It seemed as though they had gotten rid of all the uniltìrantokx. Your mother came to you with a worried look pulling you into a quick embrace before pulling back to give a stern face. “You were not allowed to be here, you were to stay in the village” You could only give her a downcasted face as you were in the wrong. Neytiri sighs knowing how hard this must’ve been on you. Giving you one more quick hug before following everyone else back home.

Raids continued for another week until the tawtute eventually left Pandora once more. Unfortunately, your father wanted to leave for both our and the clan's safety. It was like another nightmare, the only home you knew was now being left behind. You weren’t as upset compared to your siblings but it still hurt knowing that you had to leave everything behind.

Jake stepped down from the role of Olo’eyktan with a solemn look. Everyone slowly mounted their Ikrans preparing to take off. There wasn’t much to take with you unlike Tuk and her toys and trinkets. She was always able to lift the mood somehow. You put the rest of her things on your Ikran before seating yourself on Flefle. Your father had given a signal to finally take off, taking one last look at the people and the forest. You thought about many things while flying during the long hours. How will I nag Norm now? Will the reef people accept a Na’vi like you? Would you be outcasted? How will you be able to feel vibrations on sand or water? It has troubled you greatly not knowing if you will be able to feel vibrations.

After a couple more more hours you start to watch as the dark blue slowly turns into beautiful crystalline water. You admire the colourful coral decorating the reef before spotting Na’vi with a much lighter skin tone. You follow your father and the rest on to a small clearing on the sand to land. As you land, Na’vi starts to slowly surround your family with curious and questioning gazes. Jumping off your Ikran, you walk closer to Neteyam grabbing his arm. Two boys emerged from the crowd looking at your family. They walk around to the back studying your bodies.

You felt a lingering stare coming from behind. You look over your shoulder to catch the taller boy studying you the most. He realised you had caught him and averted his gaze to his friend beside him. He started talking but you couldn’t make out what they were saying. You turn to Neteyam asking what they were talking about, he told you not to worry too much about it. Giving him an unsure look you look back to your parents conversing with two other Na’vi. The Tsahik swiftly made her way towards you, she circled you and grabbed your tail while having an unimpressed look. You took your tail out of her grasp giving her a furrowed glance. She only looked at you with a squinted look before heading towards Lo’ak.

First impressions weren’t exactly the best, especially with your reaction. They had accepted your request of Uturu much to their dismay. Their daughter Tsireya, as Lo’ak told you, guided you all to your Mauri. You made them go ahead as you still needed to grab the last items from your Ikran. You wondered what Tuk had packed as it was heavy. Tossing things over your shoulder and carrying another on your back, you started to walk to catch up to your family. The boy from earlier saw you struggle, he tried calling you but no reply. Is she ignoring me on purpose? He gave up, annoyed with you not responding to him. Back with you, you finally caught up with your siblings. Settling into the Mauri you observe your brothers and sisters jumping into the water. You turn to your parents with doe eyes, wanting to join your siblings. They give each other a glance.

“Should we let her? I think it is safe enough in the reef to let her go, right?”

Neytiri took his words and contemplated whether to let you go or not. She did not want you getting hurt while wandering off but she also wanted to grant you freedom. She looked to where you were standing still waiting on their answer, she gave you a small smile.

“You may join them”

You gave her a toothy smile before joining your brothers and sisters. At the edge of the dock, you stare at the water, enamoured by its beauty. Lo’ak swam to you, “Are you allowed to come?” Smiling at him you nod. A small distance away, Tsireya asked Neteyam a question that she had in her mind since you guys got here.

“How do you all know sign language so well?”

Neteyam spun to face her, his mouth shaped as an O forgetting that they do not know about y/n.

“Our sister cannot hear you see, so we all learned sign language together to be able to talk with each other”

Her eyes widened with the fact that you were deaf but also impressed with their language skills. Of course Ao’nung could not hear Neteyam talk about you, too busy with daydreaming while waiting for everyone to join.

You dip your feet into the warm water before slowly emerging the rest of your body into the ocean. The water was soothing, helping with the aching muscles you had. You follow Lo’ak to join the others. As everyone emerged into the ocean, it was like a whole new world beneath the surface. You wandered off on our own just like Kiri, you admired every little detail of the coral and other aquatic plants surrounding you. Small unique looking fish started to swim around you. A look of amazement graced your features from the colourful fish and their behaviour. Eyes following their movement before they swam away.

It seemed as though your brothers could not hold their breaths for much longer. They all surfaced not seeing me or Kiri with them. Ao’nung ducked back into the water, he saw you far from the group swimming by yourself. He couldn’t help but see a breathtaking scene before him. You spun around to see where the others were, instead you met the boy's eyes. Feeling a little flustered you sent him a small wave, but all he returned was nothing while he went back up to the surface. Ears folding down, you felt a little dejected from the actions but focused back on the different world around you.

You had gotten out of the water much sooner than the others. A cut was on your arm from the corals being too immersed with your surroundings. Heading to the healing Mauri, you took quiet steps to the entrance, knocking on the side to grab the Tsahik’s attention. She looked up seeing you with blood running down your arm. Waving you over to sit, you were quick to sign an apology. Ronal looked at you with an odd expression. “You know sign?” Giving a curt nod, “I was born with tìkakpam” Eyes widening for a second before coming closer to you to inspect your cut. Placing a paste of mixed plants and herbs onto your arm before wrapping it with leaves. “Do not get this wet until the cut has been sealed” You smile “Irayo” You stood up to leave until you felt a hold on your hand, it was the Tsahik. Ronal had some remorse towards the girl despite their differences. “How would you feel about teaching the young children sign language? I heard from your mother that you did some teaching but I did not know what it was until now.”

You felt the tight feeling in your chest loosen a tiny bit. “I would love to.” To your surprise the Tsahik gave you a smile who was now shooing you off to continue your exploring. You felt a bit down due to not being able to swim for the time being but you shook the feeling off, striding to the shore. You slowly walk while water rises to tickle your feet, from a distance you see the same boy from earlier throwing spears into the sand. You walk towards him, you grab a stick from the sand and gently tap the tree near you. Ao’nung was slightly startled, missing his target. He turned to prepare to cuss someone out but immediately stopped as his eyes landed on you.

Eyes curving into a moon shape as you smiled and waved at him. There was a slight flutter in his chest seeing you. He wasn’t sure why he was feeling this way, he barely knew you.

“What are you doing here?”

You squint at his moving mouth, you picked up on what he said. “I was just walking until I stumbled upon you throwing the spears” He tilted his head, not understanding why you were using that language. Seeing his confused face, you completely forgot that he must’ve not heard about you. You quickly sign once more “oh sorry, I don't know if anyone told you but I am deaf” You gave him a gummy smile, he felt a bit guilty not knowing especially when he had tried calling out to you a few times. He walked closer to you, “I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself properly yet, I am Ao’nung” You look up to meet his gaze, he was quite tall for his age. “Nice to meet you Ao’nung, My name is y/n.” Y/n? A pretty name. He had thought.

You spent the rest of your time with Ao’nung. He’s shown you most of the island and told you about some traditions they do. You guys compare your traditions, competing with which is better. Some small banter here and there. Walking along the docks you spot these adorable creatures in the water. “What kind of creatures are those?” Your eyes glimmered in admiration. A small chuckle escaped Ao’nung’s lips, “These are called Ilu, very kind creatures they are.” Smile widening, you look into his eyes asking if it was okay to touch them just with your face. To him, you looked like an overexcited child receiving their first spear, he could only grin at the sight. He gave you the go ahead with a small nod. The Ilu swam up closer to the dock as you crouched down and reached your hand out.

It felt much more different from what you expected. The Ilu were very smooth and slippery, slightly rubbery. Your tail swinging back and forth, you look back up to Ao’nung with a determined face. “Can you teach me to ride one?” He gave you a surprised look, “Well I planned on teaching you all the next morning…” You stood swiftly grabbing both his hands, your face full of eagerness. He couldn’t resist and gave in. “Fine, but you better show off how good of a teacher I am tomorrow when I teach your siblings” You throw your hands up, victorious in convincing him. Immediately your mood dampened, you looked down to your arm, ah the cut. “Sorry Ao’nung, It seems that I’ve forgotten about my injury. I cannot get it wet.” Your face is apologetic.

Studying his face, he appeared a little disappointed. “It’s alright, once your arm is healed up I will teach you then.” Giving you a gentle smile. Alas, someone saw the scene, that person being Tsireya. She was ecstatic seeing her brother having a soft spot for you. Tsireya then saw you guys part ways for the day, just as you went out of view she ran up to her brother with the widest grin.

“You like her don’t you!?”

He was stunned by the sudden appearance of his younger sister. Heat filled his cheeks swatting his sister away.

“W-what are you talking about? Me, liking her? That is nonsense.”

Tsireya put her hand on her hip giving him the most unbelieving look she could give him.

“Your cheeks say otherwise brother”

“Bah, this is none of your business anyways. Plus I could say the same when you were looking at the forest boy”

A smug expression replacing his flustered one. Tsireya now he one who is flustered from the sudden mention of the one brother. She smacked his arm as hard as she could.

“OW, you did not have to hit me that hard women”

She could only roll her eyes. They both head on back to their Mauri constantly bickering along the way.

The felt someone shaking you gently, you awaken rubbing your eyes and letting out a long yawn. You turn to see who woke you, your mother. She ushered you over to eat, you took a seat beside Tuk who was munching away. You ruffle her braids while signing good morning. Neytiri gently tapped the floor grabbing your attention, feeling the small vibrations you lift your head. Your mother signed about the talk you had with Ronal. “I heard that you are to teach the young ones sign?” You give her a soft smile, “Yes, the Tsahik assigned me to be a teacher after hearing that I was a teacher back home. I am quite excited” Neytiri huffed out air in content seeing her daughter settling well to the changes. “I hope you are ready then, the Tsahik told me to tell you to meet her at her Mauri today after you finish eating” Nodding, your attention back on eating thrilled for today’s events.

You wave your mother off as you head to the Mauri with a little skip to your walk. Finally reaching your destination, you see the Tsahik patiently waiting for your arrival. As you greet her, Ronal’s face softens from her usual hardened look. “Are you ready for your first day?” You nod energetically, excited to see what it was like to teach metkayina children. Both of you reach a small secluded area, just before you could take another step you spot a boy about your age waiting there. “This is Fänau, he will help you with the young as they are only beginners, he will translate for them.” You open your mouth in understanding. “The parents should come in a few minutes to drop their children off, have fun” Giving you one last smile she waves you off.

You walk to Fänau wanting to introduce yourself and get to know him a bit better before lessons start. “Hello, my name is y/n I hope we can work well together” You give him a kind smile. “I am Fänau as Tsahik mentioned, I am excited to work with you.”

Ao’nung was doing his morning chores. As he was carrying some baskets before he spotted his mother and you walking together. Suspicious, he followed behind them to see what they were doing. They stopped in a small area, he squinted his eyes to see what his mother was saying. First day? For what? Then he spotted Fänau, watching you two interact made him feel irritated. His mood was now spoiled, walking away with tight fists.

The first lesson was amazing, the children were amazing despite only knowing a few basic signs. You were radiating happiness as you passed a few members of the clan, you couldn't even be bothered by the stares you were getting. Walking to the shore, you remembered that your siblings were learning to ride Ilus today. Increasing your speed you finally spot them in the water getting ready to ride. You crouch to sit and watch them learn since your cut hasn’t fully healed yet.

Neteyam noticed your figure from a distance, he waves nice and high. Seeing you wave back made him chuckle. Ao’nung took a glimpse of you, you really were pretty in the sun. He felt a nudge in his side, turning just to see Lo’ak giving him a death stare.

“Stop ogling my sister fish lips”

“Who said I was looking at your sister?”

He looked away immediately trying to shield faint blush. Lo’ak gave him a dirty look not believing what he’s seeing right now. He slowly walks to Tsireya still giving Ao’nung a warning look. You continue to watch your siblings learn, chuckling to yourself as you saw Lo’ak fall off his Ilu. But your gaze trailed to Ao’nung who was also laughing, who knew one could look nice when they are laughing like that. Waving your hands frantically trying to wave those thoughts away. You must’ve thought you were crazy for thinking that way.

As they finish up their lessons, Kiri makes her way to you with a content smile. “The ocean is so beautiful” You smile agreeing with Kiri, the only thing missing is hearing the water and waves. How you wish you could hear it. Everyone had dispersed doing their own things, except you and Kiri. You stayed where you guys were, admiring the nature around you while Kiri was admiring the sand in the water. You caught a glimpse of figures moving from the corner of your eye. It was Ao’nung and a few other boys talking to Kiri. Your head tilted to the side wondering what they needed Kiri for. Brows furrowing see the discomfort on your sister's face. Standing from the sand, you walk over and grab Kiri’s hand and look towards Ao’nung. “Is there something you need from Kiri?” Ao’nung faltered seeing you appear beside Kiri.

Instead of him signing to you he talks once more to Kiri. You catch the word freak coming from his mouth. You give him a hurt expression, you press your hand against his chest to put space between him and your sister. Just before you could say anything else Lo’ak comes onto the scene taking your hand away from Ao’nung. Neteyam then came along to relieve the tension between the two boys. Only a second later, literally a second, a fight broke out. While Kiri was laughing, you had a horrified expression on your face. You walk up to Ao’nung pulling on his tail to get him off your brother. In a blink of an eye, you felt pressure against your check making you fall back.

Everyone froze in place. First person to move was Kiri helping you off the ground asking if you were okay. You didn’t reply, you only looked at Ao’nung with a crestfallen look taking over your features. Before more punches could break out, your fathers came to the scene quickly pulling everyone apart. Ao’nung tried reaching out to you before being pulled away by his father. Your father left you with Ronal to help the bruise that is forming on your cheek. “Thank you for the paste Tsahik '' She shook her head, “You do not need to thank me, I swear to eywa if my son does something like this again so help me” You chuckle quietly seeing Ronal worked up over her son. “Also there is no need to call me Tsahik, just call me Ronal '' Her face is gentle as she continues to rub paste on your cheek. You were beaming now being on a first name basis with the Tsahik.

As the sun sets and the moon rises, you carefully take off the leaves surrounding your arm. The cut was finally sealed up, a smile graced your features knowing you can go into the water once more. The smile faded watching your brothers and sisters come into the Mauri with both annoyed and upset looks. “What is wrong? Did something happen again?” Neteyam could only sigh, “Ao’nung took Lo’ak outside the reef and basically left him for dead” Your expression etched into anger, not knowing why Ao’nung would do this. Kiri looked a little surprised as it was rare for you to get mad.

Standing up with anger radiating off your body, you stride towards Ao’nungs Mauri tail whipping around in frustration. Reaching the entrance you give the Olo’eyktan and Ronal a quick greeting. You didn’t meet the eyes of Ao’nung as you signed to Ronal. “I'm sorry to disturb you Ronal, but may I talk to your son” She took in your stiff posture and expression, the corner of her mouth perking up a little before giving you a brief nod. She found it quite amusing that her son was about to earn another lecture from someone else, especially from you.

Ao’nung hesitated with following you out, not ready for what you have to say. Finding a small spot on the sand you finally turn to meet his nervous gaze. Your stern face changed to sorrow. “Why?” He knew exactly what you were talking about but like a skxawng he played dumb. “What do you mean?” Frustration growing once more, you punch his chest. “You first called us freaks and then left my brother to die outside the reef” Your gestures were sharp and quick showing your bitterness. He only looked down knowing what he did was extremely wrong. You huff air from your nose in disbelief, you thought he was nice but you thought wrong. You made him look at you once more. “Not only that, if my siblings are freaks, then what am I? I have the same features of those tawtute and I cannot hear. Does that make me a monstrosity compared to everyone else?”

Not once did Ao’nung feel that way. You were one of the most gorgeous Na’vi he’s ever seen. He wished he could say those to you but he was still silent. Tears well up in your eyes, your head hung low. “To think that one person wouldn’t judge me apart from my family. I really thought we could’ve been friends Ao’nung maybe even a little bit more than that” Again silence, you took it as a sign that Ao’nung wouldn’t change. Ao’nung was frozen in place, not being able to comprehend what you signed. You wanted something more? Just as he lifted his head to look at you, your body was already walking away from his figure. He wanted to reach out, he really did, but he stayed in place not wanting to make matters worse.

You make it back to the Mauri and sit right beside your mom. Head leaning into her side, tears now falling freely accompanied with small sniffles. Neytiri wanted to ask what had happened but thought it was best to comfort her daughter with her warm touch. She brought you closer into her body as you continued to cry quietly. Neytiri started to hum your waytelem hoping you could feel the vibrations from her chest. The soft murmurs from your mothers body calmed you, you felt your body slowly falling into slumber. In time you fall asleep completely, Neytiri picks up your small figure and puts you onto your mat and gently drapes a thin cover over you.

Jake looked at Neytiri with a concerned look. They knew that moving somewhere away from the forest would come with difficulties. It was a small given that the children would be seen differently due to their different appearances. He contacted Norm and asked about his little project for you. His throat felt parched hearing that Norm had almost figured it out. Norm mentioned that in another week or two it could be ready for use. Jake sighed in relief, you would finally be able to experience the sounds of their stunning world. Looking over to your peaceful frame, he could only worry because you were his first daughter and he knows how much you’ve been through.

Days have passed, you’ve gone everyday to teach the children along with your new friend Fänau. You have also been ignoring Ao’nung because you weren’t ready to face him. Ever since that day, you haven’t really given yourself the time to learn how to ride and explore more of the ocean. Fänau was walking by your side after finishing the lesson for today. You turn to him with a cheeky smile, “Have you gotten the chance to talk with Zoprrì?” giving him a small nudge with your hip. His face flushed with purple and gave you a small smack on your arm. “Do not tease me. I tried but I fumbled over my words and ran” Fänau buried his face in his hands in embarrassment. You bring your hand up to his shoulder for comfort. “You still have lots of time, he will definitely see how awesome you are Fänau” You give him your widest smile with a small thumbs up. He could only release a small laugh at your silly gestures.

It was his turn to give you a teasing smile. “How’s Ao’nung?” You give him a deadpan expression. “You know damn well how he is, I did not rant to you two days ago just for you to ask that dumb question” He chuckled, “He is like a lovesick puppy, he keeps trying to find you” You roll your eyes as you cross your arms, then releasing with sharp movements. “Lovesick? Lovesick my ass, if he really did then he would not have called us freaks' ' Fänau found it amusing when you started ranting, but he knows that you would not budge from the idea of avoiding Ao’nung. “He is going to keep trying to talk to you until you finally give in” Eyes squinting at him, you slowly sign “I won’t give in, watch me” He pursed his lips then released a long sigh. “You will, I know you are still upset with him but you will have to talk with him eventually especially when you live here now” Your ears face down, he was right but Ao’nung did not deserve your friendship right now. Both of you continue to walk discussing random topics.

Ao’nung once again had gone in search of you. He desperately wanted to apologise, he did not want to lose you. He searched throughout the village but you made no appearance. Realisation took over his features that you must’ve been teaching right now during this time. Walking to the area, he thought of many ways to somehow start the conversation once he finally has the chance. Just on time, the lesson had just finished but he paused his movements. He saw you walk away with Fänau. Twinge of jealousy pricks his heart seeing the two side by side. Instead of walking away, he followed the two of you making sure not to make a sound. He was too far to see what you were discussing with him, he moved in closer hiding behind the trees. He read your movements and got to the part where you mentioned him calling you freaks. Guilt washed over his body, it was his fault for saying those foul things.

He studied your expression, it was full of annoyance and a tinge of sadness. Ao’nung did not want you to feel upset with him. An idea popped into his head, gifts. Remembering that his sister was skilled in making accessories. Leaving the scene, he ran with determination towards his family Mauri. Today was an off day for them, entering the Mauri he spots his sister already working on some small trinkets and bracelets.

“Tsireya?”

She looked up from her work seeing her brother standing awfully awkwardly.

“Did you need something Ao’nung?”

He wasn’t sure why he was feeling shy for asking a small favour from his younger sister. Fiddling with his fingers he opened his mouth just to close it again. He felt frustrated with himself for not being able to get the words out. He let out a groan, looking straight at Tsireya once more before he blurted out.

“Can you help me make stuff for Y/n…”

Her eyes were blown wide before she beamed with delight. Scrambling up to stand, she ran up to her brother pulling him towards her working area. Tsireya pushed down on his shoulders forcing him to sit, but did it a bit too hard making him fall hard on his butt. He let out a small yelp, giving his sister a stunned look. Letting out a small sorry before she sat next to him with a look of curiosity.

“What exactly did you want to make for her? A charm? Bracelet? A beautiful top? Hair decor? Cute trinkets?”

He cut her off by smacking his hand on her mouth to stop her from rambling. She was getting too excited for his liking. Pinching his nose bridge he came up with an idea.

“I was hoping to give her a variety of things until she finally lets me talk to her. I thought we would start with an accessory for her ears seeing she has a hole in her ear”

Tisreya looked at her brother full of admiration. She was grateful that you were able to change Ao’nungs foul behaviour. She shuffled closer to Ao’nung showing him a variety of pieces that they could use to start this earring. He knew that you usually wore feathers but they didn’t really have those. Some scales caught his eye, they were shiny and in the light they reflected with a beautiful orange and yellow colour.

“Do you think I could mend these together and shape it?”

He picked the scales up showing them to Tsireya. She squinted her eyes while staring at the scales in thought. A solid nod, he exhaled not knowing he was holding his breath for her approval. Hours went by as Ao’nung was a bit difficult to teach especially when snarky remarks were being tossed back and forth. Tsireya constantly smacks his hand when he does something wrong after being told repeatedly not to do that. Or he groans in frustration while dropping the earring flopping backwards onto his back. Tsireya could only give him apathetic looks. Through all of that they finally finish the set of earrings made for you. They both release a sigh of content before falling back at the same time.

“You plan to do this how often Ao’nung?”

“...every night”

She sits up so quickly, almost giving herself whiplash. Looking at Ao’nung with a gaping mouth and furrowed look.

“AND YOU SAID YOU DIDN’T LIKE HER”

“WHAT DOES MAKING STUFF FOR HER MAKE YOU THINK I LIKE HER?”

Tsireya looked at him like he was crazy. She threw her hands up in exasperation while huffing out.

“HAH, YOU’RE BASICALLY COURTING HER YOU SKXAWNG”

He choked on his words, courting? He gave his sister a flabbergasted expression.

“I’m leaving, I can't stand this conversation anymore. I need to go drop the earrings off”

Tsireya mocked him as he walked away heading towards your family's Mauri. As he’s walking, he looks down to the earrings in his hands. Thoughts run through his mind, Will she like them? Will she throw it away? Will she wear it? Distracted by his thoughts he didn’t realise that he had reached the Mauri. He started fidgeting with his creation worried that you may be there. Just before he took another step, Neteyam had stepped out of the Mauri. He turned his head, catching Ao’nung in his line of vision. His once relaxed face turned stiff. Ao’nung grew nervous seeing your brother walk slowly towards him.

“What are you doing here Ao’nung”

His voice is firm and demanding.

“I was uh, was wondering if I could give this to y/n?”

He held out his hand to reveal the delicate handcraft. Neteyam looked puzzled, not understanding why. He could see some flaws in his craft as he tried to shape it into a feather look and the weaving looked a little messy. He gently took the earrings from Ao’nungs hand making sure to handle it carefully. Ao’nung shoulders dropped in relief that Neteyam accepted his request.

“I cannot assure you that she will forgive you with this”

Ao’nungs expression grew grim.

“I know, but I will keep trying”

Neteyam looked at him with a pleased face. He was glad that someone was willing to try for you. Many men in their past clan didn’t make many advances towards you due to your deafness. Seeing that there was someone here making an effort provided him some peace. He bids Ao’nung off, entering the Mauri he trudged to your hunched over figure. He taps his foot beside you, catching your attention. “A certain boy came by '' Your ears pointed down, turning away from him, focusing back on your basket weaving. He sighed, he went and sat in front of you. “You know you cannot avoid him forever. I know he said some upsetting things but all of us have now become a bit acquainted for the most part” You stop your moving hands, lifting your head to meet his stare. “Yes you guys have but not me. I am not ready to face him yet.” Neteyam pursed his lips, he took one of your hands and placed the earrings gently in your palm. “He came by to give you these, you can tell he made them” You bring your hands closer to your body, studying the accessory. The beautiful colours resembled your actual feathered earrings except these were shiny and reflective. You noticed the small cravings on the side trying to resemble the feather details. Your lips curled into a faint smile.

Neteyam noticed and smiled, he gave you a small ruffle on your head before heading out once more. As he left, you got up from your spot and walked over to your space. You had a small trinket box where you stashed away your things. Carefully placing the earrings into the box, you look at it once more before closing. You pondered why he had given you a set of earrings. Continuing your basket weaving, you stayed in thought about the different possibilities on why until the sky grew dark.

As a few more days passed, everyday Neteyam or Lo’ak would give you something made by Ao’nung much to Lo’aks dismay. Each item was beautifully made even though there are some small mistakes you can spot out. The other day, Neteyam had brought in a delicate top covered in intricate designs. Tsireya definitely helped him with that. Your mother had told you that there was a big celebration tonight and wanted you to join. She knew you weren’t big on these types of things but thought it would be nice for you to join in one every once in a while.

The celebration was nearing, you thought long and hard about what you should wear. You look towards the collection of accessories that Ao’nung gifted you. You missed Ao’nung, but you were scared to approach him. You took this chance to wear everything he made for you as a sign of forgiveness. Putting on the bracelets, the earrings, neck pieces, and the beautiful top. Lo’ak had walked in to grab something but saw you wearing Ao’nungs “ugly” creations. He gave you a furrowed look with his eyes peering at you. “You’re really gonna wear his things?” He saw you give him a brief nod. He could only sigh, “If he tries anything tonight don’t hesitate to grab me okay?” Smiling, you gave him another nod for reassurance.

Heading to the main gathering area, you feel deep vibrations under your feet as you come closer to the celebration. You see bright lights from the fires illuminating the entire ground accompanied by the shining moon. You move your head to see your father talking to somebody, they turned their head a bit and you realised that it was Norm. You missed him dearly, you carefully snuck up behind him before jumping on his back. You felt his body jolt, he turned to see your extremely happy face. He gave you a tight embrace before pulling away. Your face changed from happy to confused. “How come you are here uncle?” Seeing those words he gave you a toothy smile. “I finally figured out the hearing aid situation” Eyes widening with tears slowly forming on your bottom lashes. “This isn’t a joke is it?” He gave you another smile while shaking his head. You jumped into his arms once more as tears were finally released from your eyes.

“Do you want to test them right now, see if you can hear the music?” You nod vigorously as you wipe your tears away. Norm carefully picked up the wooden box and opened them to reveal the small hearing aids. He gently placed them into your ears adjusting the sizing to fit. Putting on the lowest level of volume, he turns them on. You weren’t sure how to react, emotions were everywhere. Ears twitching to the small sounds around you, the people chatting, the crackling of the fire, the booming music. Tears welled in your eyes once more, you turned to Norm, ramming into him giving him another hug as your cry in his chest.

“How do you feel kiddo?”

Your eyes widened at his voice, “I can hear you, I can actually hear you” He chuckled lightly as tears threatened his vision as well. You quickly turn to your father, you run to him and grab his arms. “Sempu try talking”

“Nga yawne lu oer Ma’ite”

His voice sounded more fatherly than you thought it was. Deep voice with raspy undertones. You lean into his body, overwhelmed with joy. You grab the rest of your siblings and your mother to hear all their voices. As a family you shared your tears of happiness, you finally felt normal.

Ao’nung and Tsireya arrived late due to Ao’nung worrying too much about his appearance and Tsireya constantly reassured him that he looked fine. As they joined the clan they head towards their parents first notifying their presence. He noticed his mother with a smile on her face while looking in a certain direction. He followed her gaze stopping on you, you were dancing with your younger sister Tuk. His eyes open like saucers seeing you decorated with all his creations. Purple hues appear on his cheeks and ears as he continues watching you dance with such positive energy radiating from you. Tsireya smirked, elbowing his ribs.

“Go. Ask her to dance with you”

He swallows his saliva in nervousness. He couldn’t take his eyes off you.

“Do you think she’ll say yes?”

Tsireya laughs lightly.

“I’m sure she will, plus she’s wearing all your things”

Ao’nung begins walking towards your dancing frame. His cheeks still warm as he watches you dance with such grace and freedom. As he got closer, you noticed him coming to you. You stopped dancing and signed to Tuk to go to Kiri. Once he was standing right in front of you he couldn’t muster a single word. You watched as he stood silent, you were hoping he would say something but nothing came out. A small pang of disappointment filled your chest. You turn to walk away until his hand grabs your arm. You move your head slightly just to see him out of the corner of your eye. “Would you like to dance with me?” Eyes widening from the question. You give him a shy nod trying to avoid his gaze. He guided you near the centre, softly grabbing your other hand. You felt weird being in the middle of everything, you kind of wish you were back dancing on the sidelines.

Ao’nung sensed your slight discomfort, so he decided to dance first. He did a couple moves here and there, a few being a little silly to make you more comfortable. You finally are confident enough to start dancing as well. You moved swiftly and rhythmically to the beat. Ao’nungs movement falters, watching you fall into the music once more. He was slightly confused not knowing how you knew the rhythm so easily. But he forgot about it immediately as you grabbed his hand pulling him closer to you.

From afar both pairs of parents watch as their children enjoy their night. Neytiri settled beside Ronal while watching her son and her own daughter dance together. “They seem good,” Ronal smiled, agreeing with Neytiri.

“Your daughter is a very bright girl despite the difficulties she faces”

Neytiri watched you with a gentle expression.

“She is isn’t she”

An idea surfaced in Ronals mind, she was sure it would stun Neytiri.

“How would you feel about me teaching her the ways of a healer? I know my daughter is the next Tsahik but I think it would be good if y/n learned about healing”

She whips her head to face Ronal with shock. Neytiri knew you weren’t much of a hunter or warrior so healing made sense.

“You would do that for her?”

Ronal nods.

“Anything for a future daughter”

Ronal hid her laughter seeing Neytiris reaction. Both mothers had become close over the couple weeks. The celebration had slowed down, everyone settling into chatting amongst themselves while their children ran around. Few decide to eat niktsyey as well and enjoy their drinks. You and Ao’nung decided to settle down as well, sitting with the rest of the chaotic group. Ao’nung sat close to you but without Lo’ak giving him the dirty eye. He shifted a tiny bit closer to you just to get on Lo’aks nerves. As for you, you were fidgeting with your fingers while watching the children play with each other. A small group of children you recognised as some of your students. They pulled your arms wanting you to play with them. You sign to Ao’nung quickly saying you’d be back before getting dragged away by the kids.

He watches you as you run around with the children chasing you and one on your back. Ao’nung felt as if he was on cloud nine just observing you getting along with the kids so well. He knew you would make a great mother someday. Rotxo nudged him teasingly.

“You definitely like her, can’t deny it now”

He swats Rotxos hand away, giving him a small hum. Not once has he taken his eyes off you, you looked amazing in his crafts and he felt proud. Lo’ak had thrown a pebble at his head but he didn’t even notice, too entranced with his sister. You finally wave to the children off before sitting beside Ao’nung once more. The rest of the night was filled with talking and laughter especially because of Lo’aks and Ao’nungs bickering with each other. You haven’t told Ao’nung about your new hearing aids, wanting to wait to be alone to finally have an actual conversation with each other. But throughout the night you kept increasing the volume as you get used to the sounds. You heard what Ao’nung sounded like but not clearly due to the other chatter around you.

As everyone slowly starts to head back to their Mauris, you took Ao’nungs hand and guide him to the shoreline. He was a little confused but followed you anyway. As you reach the shore, gently bring him down to sit with you. You make your body face him, you look into his ocean eyes that are shining in the moonlight. “I forgive you” You watch as his eyes widen and a smile settles on his lips. “You do?” Giving him a gummy smile you nod briefly. His expression dropped just a little, “I’m sorry for saying those cruel things, and for not saying anything. I don’t think you’re a freak, you are unique and beautiful. I’m sorry for making fun of your siblings as well, the silent treatment was well deserved for me.” Grabbing his hand, you give him a look of compassion. “All is forgiven and forgotten okay? It is alright now” Giving him a wide grin you quickly sign, “Can you say my name with your actual voice?” Ao’nung gave you a puzzled expression but went along.

“Y/n?”

Your smile widened, eyes turning in crescent moon shapes. “You have a lovely voice” He blinked a few times not understanding how you heard him. Seeing him confused you exhale in amusement. You slowly remove the headpiece that was covering the hearing aids. You turn your head to the side to show him the small device. Ao’nung tilted his head still confused on what the device has to do with your hearing, especially when he doesn’t understand tawtute machinery. You chuckle at his expression, “My uncle made this device to help me hear, it took many long years to perfect for me. But I can finally hear everything… even you.” Ao’nung felt his cheeks and ears warm up from your comment from earlier about liking his voice. His tail wagging unintentionally behind him.

“No wonder you were dancing beautifully to the music”

This time your cheeks were set aflame hearing his gentle voice and compliment. You buried your face in the palms of your hands feeling embarrassed. As you try to avoid his gaze, he feels happy knowing he had an effect on you. He gently caresses your hands, bringing them down to his lap. Ao’nung gazes into your golden eyes that seem to light up in the dark. Studying your face, the glowing specks, your unique striping and your soft lips. Mustering up his courage, he slowly leans in, inching closer and closer to your face. Your eyes flutter closed anticipating the possible kiss. Feeling his hand on the side of your cheek, the soft touch of his lips finally connect with yours. The kiss was gentle yet passionate under the moonlight. The nervous feeling in your system vanished as the kiss lasted longer. Pulling away to catch your breaths, you look into each other’s eyes before breaking out into quiet laughter. Purple hues still visible on your cheeks.

Sitting together in silence, bodies facing the ocean with your tails entangled. Listening to the waves crashing against each other, and the animals chittering through the night. Head resting against his shoulder and his head resting on top of yours. You felt at peace slowly dozing off to the sounds of Ao’nungs breathing. Ao’nung peaked at your face, a small smile forming on his lips thinking, how did I get so lucky?

Years passed, you became an experienced healer assisting Tsireya with her continued Tsahik studies. As well as continuing teaching the small children sign. Ao’nung became a strong warrior, earning multiple markings. Not only that, you became mates. Ever since that night, both of you were inseparable. Ronal adored you, more than Ao’nung or so he said. Your brothers also become strong warriors within the clan. Lo’ak followed the Metkayinas ways as Neteyam continued the Omatikaya ways. Kiri and Tuk both joined the gathering groups although Tuk was training to be a warrior. Ao’nung was also able to finally give you those Ilu lessons which went wonderfully apart from distracting each other. As Fänau, he finally got together with Zoprrì. Both of you were still close friends, much to Ao’nungs disagreement. Everything was finally in place.

#aonung x reader #sully family x reader #aonung #tsireya #loak sully #neteyam sully #kiri sully #tuktirey #jake sully #neytiri #ronal #tonowari #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #aonung x you #aonung x y/n #aonung x sully!reader

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helen-with-an-a · 1 month

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Karma's a bitch

Hi. So this was a request from someone and I hope I did it justice. I hope you enjoy it. Also - side note: I'M SEEING THE LIONESSES AT WEMBLEY TONIGHT OMGGGGGGGGG

Barca Femeni x Reader

Description: R is a little shit and likes to play pranks

Word Count: 1.7k

To say you were a little shit growing up would be the understatement of the century. You were a terror when you first joined La Masia. A little wide-eyed 7-year-old with a talent for football and finding trouble – pranks, jokes, a never-ending streaming of consciousness as you voiced anything and everything that came to your mind. Everyone expected you to calm down as you made your way up to the first team, yet by the time you were training with the first team at least three times a week, you were still the mischievous, playful person you always had been.

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You lounged on the pitch, soaking up the last of the summer sun as you watched Aitana take kick after kick at the goal. She had just broken into the first team’s regular Starting XI and was determined to keep her spot – practising well after training. Unfortunately for you, she was your lift home. You had initially joined her in her extra training, but you quickly got bored and let your mind wander. You couldn’t anger her too much – she was your only way home, after all – but you could irritate her a little. Despite being a good few years your senior, you towered over her, and when she got annoyed at you, she just looked like an adorable little chihuahua – all bark and no bite.

You came to stand just behind her – way too much into her personal space for comfort, but you didn’t care. She didn’t notice you as she stood with her hands on her hips, analysing the video she had just filmed. Quickly noticing she wouldn’t turn around any time soon, you lifted your hands,

“HEY,” you shouted as you whacked your hands down on her shoulders. She let out an almighty scream, dropping her phone and clutching her heart.

“Quina merda de veritat. Un absolut idiota. Oh, Déu meu, estàs molt molest!” You let the angry Catalan words wash over you, well aware of what she was saying. It was nothing you hadn’t heard before.

“Your face,” you cackled loudly, pointing at her as you doubled over. Her eyebrows were pinched together, and her jaw ticked.

“Oh, Déu meu. You are such a little shit. Ugh,” she batted your hands away as you moved to pinch her cheek. “You can walk home,” she said in faux anger. That sobered you right up.

“No, Aita, please.” You rushed to apologise, arms wrapping around her shoulders as you forced her into a hug. “I won’t do it again, prometo.” You gave her your best puppy eyes.

“We all know that’s a lie.” Aitana sighed, loosening slightly and accepting your hug.

“T'estimo,” you said cheekily.

“Yeh, yeh. Tens sort que jo també t'estimo.” And you were lucky that she loved you. You knew she wouldn’t put up with half the stuff you do to her if she didn’t.

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Alexia had been raving about her new boots, which she was trialling. It dominated all her conversations for the past week, and you were very much over it. It was lunchtime, and you couldn’t stand it anymore. Sneaking quietly away, you found her locker and fiddled with the keypad until it popped open. Her sister’s birthday – what a sap. There they were in all their tainted glory. They did look like nice boots, to be fair, but she had ruined them with how much she had spoken about them. You took them out of their prized place and closed the locker again. Removing the laces entirely, you crossed the room to Mapi’s locker. She had been irritating you recently as well. Again, you fiddled with the controls until there was a faint click, and it swung gently open. Ingrid’s birthday - ew. You left one lace in there, making sure the signature colour of the fabric was visible from the outside before moving on. You put the boot in the bathroom between the stall wall and the toilet. The other lace was left in the gym, tied neatly in a bow around a machine part. The final boot you kept with you until you headed to the field again – leaving it at the bottom of the ball bag. You had ensured they were all easily visible, but trying to find all the parts would be annoying. You knew the trainers had seen you walking around the grounds with not-your-boots in your hands, so you were sure they could help Alexia if she asked for it. You snickered as you imagined Alexia’s face. You could see the angry expression and the harsh Catalan being shouted at you. It made you giggle immensely.

“Where are my boots?” Alexia asked when everyone re-entered the locker room after the break. You had the gym next, but most people wanted to change into looser clothing in an attempt to combat the Barcelonian heat.

“Are they not in your locker?” Marta asked, sticking her head around the door. “Huh … I don’t know then.” You tried your hardest not to laugh, but you couldn’t help the slight grin that appeared. Your fellow La Masia/almost first team friend, Pina, smirked at you. She had many times been a victim of your harmless jokes. She raised an eyebrow, and you just shrugged innocently in response. Alexia wandered around the changing rooms, looking in people’s lockers and under the bench.

“Ah ha,” she exclaimed as she saw the iconic fabric through Mapi’s locker. “María, how could you?”

“I didn’t,” Mapi put her hands up in defence.

“Then what is …” she opened the door to find just a singular lace. “this,” she finished. She sighed, looking around the room.

“Oi, where are they?” She asked when she made eye contact with you.

“Where are what?” You countered innocently.

“My boots. Where are they?” You shrugged.

“How should I know?” You had mastered the innocent façade. She huffed and restarted her search.

“Found one,” Caro called from the bathroom, emerging with Alexia’s left boot in her hand.

“Gracias, gracias.” Alexia hurried over and embraced Caro as if she had just found a missing diamond.

“Hey, Ale. Is that a lace?” Ana asked, pointing to the neatly tied material on the equipment she was about to use. It had been a good 20 minutes before Alexia was forced to give up her search for her missing boots and join the session. You had remained the picture of innocence – even going so far as to help look for them. Everyone knew it was you. Even Alexia, but you still maintained the act.

“Oh, gràcies a Déu,” Alexia sighed – closer to being reunited with her favourite possession.

It was just before the final session of the day. You were all in the locker room, grabbing your boots and refilling your water before heading outside.

“Where is it?” Irene asked her hand on her hip and an unimpressed look on her face.

“I don’t know … maybe it’ll turn up when we’re outside,” you shrugged – giving a slight hint to the location of the final boot.

“Ale, it’s outside,” Irene called, glaring at you as you snickered when Alexia ran out of the room.

As you arrived at the pitch, you saw Alexia hugging her boots, whispering to them like you would with a lost child. You crept behind her, jabbing her side and watching her squeal at the ticklish sensation.

“Eres una pequeña mierda,” she shouted as she tackled you to the ground, attacking you with her own tickle attack. You writhed and screamed, trying to escape the onslaught, but she was way older and way stronger than you, so you had no chance.

“Lo siento, lo siento, lo siento.” You gasped for air.

“You will be when I make you run laps until you collapse.” She said with fake anger. How could she stay mad at you when you laughed like that?

“Te amo?” You said hopefully

“Sí, yo también te amo. But you’re still running laps.” She said, tapping your head and getting off you, offering a hand for you.

“Fine,” you agreed as you stood up, smiling when she let you wrap your arms around her waist, and she kissed the top of your head.

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You watched with quiet pride as Vicky kicked a ball at an unknowing Ona – the ball rolling to hit the back of her legs.

“Aye,” she squealed, turning to see Vicky laughing her head off. Ona stormed forward before lightly shoving Vicky away, the pair laughing at their playfight. You were legendary to the younger La Masia players. Your jokes and pranks were famous, and the fact that you didn’t let up, even after you made it into the first team and became a regular Starting XI, was something they valued highly.

“Be careful; you might have someone come to take your crown,” Lucy laughed as you looked at her offendedly.

“Oh, please. Who do you think taught her? I am an icon.” You stuck your tongue out at her as you ran off to push an unsuspected Patri, making her stumble into an unamused Cata.

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You were sitting in the sunshine, arms tucked behind your head, eyes shut. It was your own mistake. You knew it – the younger girls were becoming more and more adventurous with their pranks.

Ice-cold water jolted you from your peaceful relaxation. There was a moment of silence before the team broke into hysterical laughter. You scrambled to your feet to see Vicky and Martina with the ice water bucket placed in between them.

“Oh, you fuckers. You are so dead,” you shouted as you lunged for them, only for you to be stopped by a smiling Marta.

“Dejarlas ser,” she said, offering you a towel.

“We just wanted to cool you off,” Martina shouted from her place of safety behind Alexia.

“Yeh, you looked a little warm,” Vicky added from her hiding spot behind Paños.

“Cuida tus espaldas,” you pointed a finger at them menacingly. “You have just started a war!”

“What can you say,” Mapi laughed as she passed you. “Karma’s a bitch.”

I hope you enjoyed it <3<3<3<3<3

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puddingyun · 4 months

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trophy . ݁₊ ⊹ c.jh

ice hockey player!jongho x ice skater!reader

: 6.3k words, slow burn, pining, injury, bruises, blood, scars, alcohol, fluff, some nudity, implied self harm :

thank you to @flurrys-creativity for beta reading this ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ requests open ♡

Jongho was a legend on the ice. The way he skated had all of the grace of a trained dancer, while his brute strength matched that of weightlifters and rugby players with far more experience than him. His speed was close to unmatched and half of his team's wins could be attributed to his presence. Watching him was like watching a daydream unfold before your eyes. In a sport that was tough, bloody and fierce, Jongho's skill (and often Jongho himself) was mesmerising. You knew this first-hand.

The afternoons you'd spent watching ice hockey games that you had no real interest in were countless. Sitting in the stands, the scores and terminology that others knew well flew over your head and instead your head filled with admiration and adoration for Jongho. From amateur middle school matches to high school tournaments to college games, you always found yourself a seat that you could watch him from, his face coloured pink from exertion and each of his heavy breaths making your heart flutter.

But watching from afar never felt like enough.

You picked up ice skating when you started high school. With nobody to teach you and a pair of ratty second-hand ice skates in tow, you sat shyly on the bench by the rink, lacing up your skates and pretending you weren't here just because of a boy. As you moved to put on your second skate, a warm hand grabbed yours.

"Careful."

You looked up to find Jongho standing beside you and holding your hand in his.

"You shouldn't grab the skate by the blade. It's sharper than it looks," he explained, letting go of your hand. You let it fall limply in your lap.

"Oh. Thank you, I... I didn't know," you replied, embarrassed by your carelessness.

"It's no problem," he replied with a smile. "You should get some guards for them, so you don't cut your fingers up trying to put them on."

"I will. Thank you," you said, and tried your best to return his friendly smile.

"See you around," he replied. His eyes stayed on yours for a beat longer, and then he was turning and heading off to the changing rooms. You watched him go until he was completely out of sight, your heart hammering in your chest and fingers trembling. You slid your foot into the second skate and tied them up with some difficulty, all the while avoiding the blade just as Jongho had warned you to do.

As you skidded and slipped around the rink on that first day, clinging to the edge more often than not, your mind revolved around Jongho's hand grabbing yours with a gentleness that completely contrasted his ruthlessness during matches. Even as your palms slammed against the ice when you fell, the warmth of his hand seemed to persist there, like an affectionate ghost.

For those first months when you were learning how to keep your balance on the ice, bruises adorned your limbs. They weren't always dark, nor did they always swell, but they ached beneath your skin all of the same. As you sat beneath the shower head, hot water raining down on you, you traced the evidence of your time on the ice with a fingertip, and wondered if there were similar marks scattered across Jongho's body. One month you traced a particularly ugly bruise on your hip every night as it healed, and imagined it was Jongho's skin beneath your touch.

By the end of high school you were good on the ice. Nothing like Jongho, of course, who seemed to come to life each time he stepped onto the rink, but your bruises had dwindled down to a scrape or two each month, and with the help of reading up on the sport and practising, you could land a few amateurish-looking jumps, although you still wobbled on the landings and your form was far from perfect.

Although you'd already started college, the ice was quickly becoming your priority. The ice that Jongho practised on and played on, left marks upon and cheered for his team upon. It was your only way of feeling connected to him besides the warmth still lingering on your hand from years ago. The stolen glances and brief eye contact you'd gotten from practising in the same rink as him over the years were nothing compared to the memory of him saving your fingers from a deep gash.

When the rink closed for Christmas Eve you cycled down to the frozen lake outside of town, the wind biting your cheeks and blowing your hair behind you in the wind. Your skates (a new second-hand pair that fit your feet after you grew that were, unfortunately, just as ratty as the last) clattered quietly in your backpack, cheering you on as you cycled down dirt paths to reach the lake.

Snow was sprinkled over the top of the frozen lake, looking like icing sugar dusted across a plate, and was disrupted only by a few lines you recognised as those from ice skates. Somebody else had been skating here as well.

You leaned your bike up against a tree and sat by the edge of the lake to change your winter boots to skates, fingers frozen by the time you pulled your gloves back on. As you slid across the lake the only sounds keeping you company were the cars driving by on a distant highway and birds twittering as they jumped to and fro on snowy branches. Not even the foggy clouds of your breath stayed for long, disappearing quickly as you practised to perfect different turns you'd been studying.

You were so absorbed in what you were doing that a small sound wouldn't have bothered you, not the cracking of a branch or the honking of a horn, but the sound that snapped you out of a turn was loud. The clattering of a bike falling to the ground rang out across the lake and you startled, barely managing to turn around without toppling to the ground.

Your bike was still leaning against the tree where you'd left it. Standing beside it was Jongho and beside him was his own bike that you recognised from watching him leave school in the afternoons. It was his bike that had fallen to the ground, not yours.

"Sorry about that," he called out. "You okay?"

All of a sudden you could hear your own heartbeat, thumping loudly in your ears.

"You scared me," you whispered, and when you realised he hadn't heard you, you called out to him. "You scared me."

He smiled. Then he laughed. Your heartbeat grew raucous.

"I didn't think anybody else was here," he called out, sitting down by the edge of the lake just as you had to put on his skates. You swallowed the lump in your throat, but it came back up just a second later. "There's enough space for both of us though. Don't let me bother you."

The thought of him being the one to bother you was almost hysterical, but you didn't say so. You just watched him put on his skates the way you'd imagined him doing countless times before, and turned away just before he could catch you staring.

You could hear his skates cutting up the ice as he worked alongside you, speeding past you and almost knocking you to your knees a few times. You couldn't work up the nerve to practise anything complex in front of him, not when he could move at the speed of light across the ice and you still hadn't perfected an axel. So instead you moved through half-hearted bracket turns and forward drags, your racing pulse reminding you who you were alone on the lake with.

You weren't sure how long it had been when Jongho skated up beside you, a small smile on his lips.

"I've seen you practice at the rink," he said as you both slid slowly along the ice. Your eyes widened and you lifted your gaze from your skates to his face. He was smiling at you still. "You're really good."

Your heart jumped up into your throat. You could hear yourself stuttering as you tried to form an adequate answer, your lips cold and clumsy.

"Not as good as you are," you managed to say, which only made Jongho laugh softly, like he'd expected the answer but didn't believe it. "I've seen you at some games. I think you're- Actually, you are the best skater I've seen. I don't just... Think it."

"Thank you," Jongho mumbled, this time sounding bashful. "I kind of saw you out here before I put my bike down. You were doing some really cool stuff but you stopped after you saw me."

"Oh," you said, the word coming out in a little puff of foggy air. You turned your attention back to your skates and the ice beneath them. You wondered if you'd have been less or more embarrassed by him seeing your untrained turns and jumps than you were by his asking you about them. "I thought it'd kind of be like trying to cook a meal for a Michelin star chef but only having a microwave to work with."

You felt yourself smiling even as you spoke, and once the words were out Jongho laughed too. Slowly, you both came to a stop in the middle of the lake and your laughter mingled with his, filling the quiet space. He moved to stand in front of you, skates slicing up the ice.

"Would you show me one of your jumps?" he asked. When you inhaled sharply, hesitating, he smiled at you, warm just like his hand had been as it pulled yours from the blade of your first skates. "If it makes you feel better, I used a microwave to make my lunch yesterday."

You felt yourself smiling even as your anxiety kept you on edge.

"Okay," you whispered. Jongho grinned. You locked the image away in your mind, where you could come back to it everyday for as long as you lived.

The air was cold, rushing against your face as you skated out into the lake. You felt your heart skip a beat when you caught sight of Jongho, warmth heating up your cheeks at the thought of him watching you skate – something you'd only taken up so that you could watch him.

You moved on the ice as smoothly as you could, picturing Jongho's fluid movements during his games, and put all of your trust into your muscle memory as you moved through a single axel jump. The landing was clumsy, your knee wobbling and your position unsteady as you tried to hold it, but the jump itself had been close to perfect. Your blood pumped fast, first thanks to your accomplishment and then thanks to Jongho's applause.

"I knew you were good," he exclaimed, laughing when you gave him a breathless bow, not much more than a dip of the head. You didn't want to take your eyes off of him for a second.

The two of you skated around each other languidly, leaning into the edges of your skates and making small talk about ice hockey, college classes and Christmas. The way he spoke was just as mesmerising as the way he moved, and you found yourself lulled into a sleepy state listening to him, as though the sound was a pillow you could rest your head on.

You were watching a bird fly overhead during a pause in your conversation and he reached out to touch your arm, glove brushing against your jacket.

"I brought some coffee with me from home... It's probably lukewarm by now but we could share some if you want?" he asked.

You spent Christmas Eve afternoon perched on the lake's edge, taking sips from Jongho's thermos and watching birds investigate the marks left behind by your ice skates. His fingertips touched your knuckles as you passed the thermos to him and you thought of all of the bruises you'd touched with your own fingertips, wondering what it would have felt like if they belonged to him.

"I'll see you around, right?" he asked as you both got back on your bikes. The sky was growing dim overhead. Tomorrow morning it would be Christmas, but no gift you received would top this chance afternoon on the ice with Jongho.

"Yeah. At the rink," you replied. Years of watching him from afar had all built up to his lips pulling into a smile as you both exchanged small nods. As you began to pedal away, you remembered you'd missed something. You turned and called out to him. "Merry Christmas!"

Though he was already far away, you heard him call back.

"Merry Christmas!"

You spent evenings with your fingers resting on your lips, imagining kissing the ice he had skated on. Would it stick to your lips, tear the skin away and leave them bloody? Or would it slowly give way, melting against your skin and leaving your lips wet? Most of the time you could only assume you'd be left mangled and bleeding. As your first years of ice skating had shown you after all, the ice was fully capable of leaving behind damage.

College was coming to a close. Exams should have been the thing on your mind, but instead you spent your afternoons at the rink, either bruising your limbs in your attempt to perfect your jumps or watching Jongho from the stands. Though your conversations with him were still brief and always exchanged over the guise of skating talk, he would catch your eye during lulls in the matches and wave his hockey stick at you. The moment he had turned back around you would press a hand to your chest to try and calm your racing heart. It never worked.

The rink became busy as finals season approached. There were several skaters who were trying desperately to take their minds off of the upcoming exams, others training for sports scholarships that would probably go to somebody else, and some just passing the time.

The chill of the ice seeped through your leggings, clinging to your skin even as you moved through various turns and jumps, trying to perfect them without moving into someone else's line of skating. You'd been here for too long, you realised, your teeth chattering as you leaned against the edge of the rink to catch your breath. As you lifted your head, you saw Jongho arriving at the rink. He didn't see you as you watched from your spot against the wall, and you felt much like you had done in the years before the two of you spent that afternoon at the lake. Watching him out in the open, right in front of him, but somehow still invisible. Despite the chill crawling up beneath the fabric of your clothes, warmth bloomed in your chest. You could watch him forever, you thought, and were comforted by that.

It was likely because of your watching him that you didn't notice it. Two college boys in sharp hockey skates, barrelling towards you as they squabbled over a revision question they had different answers to. You didn't see what happened – if they weren't looking, if one of them slipped, if they had even noticed you – but you definitely felt it. Because even though your calves were cold, it was impossible not to feel the blade of somebody's ice skate slashing into your calf.

You screamed. In your panic, you slipped and fell, bruising yourself on the cold, hard ice that was slowly being stained with red. There was swearing – a lot of it – and then there was Jongho.

His voice, always kind and light-hearted, raised to a yell he reserved only for the toughest of matches. While you were helped off of the ice, you could see him scolding the two boys who had run into you for not paying attention, your tears blurring your vision so that the scene looked like something you would have dreamed up while lying in bed. The throbbing in your leg reminded you that this was painfully real.

Although he wasn't the one who helped you off of the ice, Jongho was the one who rushed towards you once a first-aid kit was fetched. His hands shook as he worked, diligently tying the bandage around your leg the way you'd seen their coach teach them to do all the way back in middle school, always worried for the boys' safety.

"It's just a little cut," he reassured you, but the shake in his voice told you it was much more than that. You felt a sob rise up in your throat and escape before you could stop it. Jongho pulled you into him, your face tucked away against his shoulder while his hand moved up and down your back slowly. You were too dizzy with shock to realise that you'd never seen Jongho hold somebody else for this long before. "There's no bone showing, nothing is broken, you'll just get some stitches and then you'll be fine."

You whimpered again at this. Assuming you were afraid of needles, Jongho shushed you and explained that stitches weren't painful at all. This did little to comfort you when it wasn't the needles or stitches that you were afraid of, but the time you'd be spending off of the ice while your leg healed. You only managed to quell your tears when Jongho pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"Come on, I'll drive you to the hospital."

Jongho had been comforting you about the wrong thing, but he'd been right that stitches wouldn't be painful. After taking a blade to the leg, you'd come to the conclusion that there was little else in the world you would find painful now. Jongho held your hand as the gash was stitched up and then re-bandaged, not once complaining when your blunt nails dug into his skin or when you squeezed without warning. His thumb moved back and forth over your knuckles slowly, lulling you gently the same way his voice had a habit of doing.

Even as he drove you home, one hand rested atop yours for most of the ride, thumb moving over your veins and tendons so slowly and for so long that he could have made a map of the back of your hand if he had wanted to. After all you knew that you had mapped out his palm by now, hazy life lines, fate lines and heart lines etched into your memory.

"I'll come by to check on you," he reassured you. You just nodded. Your eyes were sore from crying, your hands shook from exhaustion, and no suitable words seemed to exist for the man in front of you. Admiration and adoration had led him here, standing in the doorway to your apartment with your blood still staining his sleeves. You wondered if he would wash it off or keep it. You knew which you would have done.

"Thank you for the help," you whispered. Jongho shook his head, a silent reassurance of it's no problem. A beat of silence passed. He took a step closer and pressed a tentative kiss to your cheek.

"Get some rest," he said softly, face still close enough to yours that you could feel the shape of his words against your cheek. You stared at him through a film of tears that made him as blurry and glimmering as earlier when he was standing on the ice.

"Okay," you whispered, and shut the door before any more tears could fall in front of him.

Jongho had told you he'd come by to check on you, but you knew that wasn't a promise that was guaranteed to go unbroken. He was writing his final exams, playing matches against better opponents, trying for scholarships that he hadn't gotten the last time he tried out for them. You didn't expect him to come by and you weren't bothered when he didn't because he wasn't really absent, his face and form always a shadow in the back of your mind.

A week later, with your calf throbbing and wrapped in fresh bandages, you dragged yourself to the ice rink. For the first time in years there were no skates in your backpack, only two cans of cheap beer that rattled against each other when you cycled over uneven pavement. The middle of finals week meant only the most dedicated hockey players and figure skaters were on the ice when you arrived, and as you sat down in the stands to watch them, you spotted Jongho among them.

One of his teammates was timing him as he moved across the ice, hockey stick in his hands and moving just as fluidly against the ice as the blades of his skates. He was concentrated. Determined. The bittersweet beer coated your tongue as you watched him from the stands like you'd been doing for most of your life. His sharp turns still made your heart flutter like they had done when you were twelve, fifteen, eighteen and twenty. You still felt your breath catch in your throat when it looked as though he might glance your way. Your hands squeezed the half-empty beer can tight when you saw him smile, aluminium crumpling between your fingers.

For all of the work you'd put into making yourself a better skater, somebody who was worthy of sharing a rink with him, you were back on the sidelines again. Your calf ached beneath your sweatpants. The skin on your hands prickled with the memory of his palms. You traced a finger along the back of your hand as you watched him, recalling how his palm had pressed against it during the car ride back from the hospital. You could still feel each of them against your skin now: Life line. Fate line. Heart line.

The cut on your calf was going to leave a nasty scar. Whether in the dim light of your bathroom or the fluorescent light of the changing room at the rink, the gash was deep enough that even in the early stages of healing it promised to leave behind a line of discoloured and lumpy skin. The ice and blades that had woven themselves into your life thanks to Jongho were now woven into the layers of your skin as well, and when you tentatively touched the wound with thoroughly sanitized hands, you heard the clattering of Jongho's bike falling to the ground by the lake years ago. You wore the slowly forming scar like the mark of a branding iron, ashamed of the pride you felt each time you saw it.

In the locker room where everybody else rushed to change and get home for a warm shower far away from the ice, you sat with your legs folded against your chest long after everybody had left. You touched the blades of your skates in their guards, admiring them and wondering if they could really cause so much harm, even when the proof was embedded in your skin. Without you realising, months passed you by, and while the scar on your calf healed shut (just as ugly as you'd predicted), you stroked the cool metal blades without a barrier to keep you from its sharp, unforgiving edge.

Late summer and early autumn melted into one bleary, apathetic season. You skated less and sat on the sidelines more, the sting of your skates constant on your fingers and knuckles. Jongho watched you from the rink, raising his hockey stick and beckoning you to join him on the ice. You imagined running up to him each time, sliding across the ice with him while your lips pressed to his, but never moved from your spot. You waved a hand and mouthed dishonest laters at him.

When he left the rink you landed jumps that you thought you'd never master – loops, lutzes, double axels – but always you ended up kneeling on the ice, pressing your fingertips to the spots where Jongho had skated.

While the air was still warm you ventured back out to the lake, the strings of your bikini top tied tight against your neck and ribs, ice skates in your bag clattering against a bottle of whipped cream flavoured vodka. You wouldn't be able to skate on the lake at this time of year but you still brought them, if only because the weight of them in your backpack reminded you of a Christmas Eve spent with the boy you adored more than anybody, sipping coffee gone cold and tracing over each other's marks in the ice.

You leaned your bike against the same tree you did years before, kicking your shoes off and shimmying your shorts to the ground. You were so used to the chill of the ice rink by now that even as a warm breeze hugged your sides and thighs you instinctively fought a shiver. You'd been warding off the cold since your first day on the rink and so you swallowed a searing mouthful of vodka as you tiptoed to the lake's edge, something you'd seen teenage skaters doing in huddled groups before a long practice. With your stomach warm and only slightly queasy, you left the bottle on a patch of grass and waded forward into the cool water.

The water was welcoming in a way that the ice wasn't. Lazily, you swam out further and moved to float on your back like a starfish, your eyes squeezed shut to keep out the sun. The lake water lapped at your skin lovingly, welcoming you home and pulling you in further. Where the ice bit and cut, the water soothed and pacified. Even when the cuts along your fingers and calves were submerged beneath the water, you felt no sharp sting. There was no punishment for being damaged here.

"Hey!"

You opened your eyes slowly, squinting against the sunlight bathing your face, and slowly moved so you could see who was on the shore. When you made out Jongho's face in the sun your stomach filled with mayflies. They were less beautiful than butterflies but made up for it with their frantic fluttering, desperate to accomplish something before their short lives came to an end, flying up into your throat and asking why you were still just watching Jongho from afar. Cheeks burning, you raised a hand and waved at him.

"Is it cool if I drink some of this?" he called out, giving you a thumbs up when you nodded.

You watched him from the water, your lips submerged and nose barely high enough to breathe. It was the closest you'd come to really being invisible around him, but somehow his eyes found you more easily now than they ever had before. He took a swig from the bottle, bigger than yours, and you found yourself wondering about his tolerance for liquor. He set the bottle back where he'd found it, and then stripped down to his underwear before wading into the water after you.

You stayed still in the middle of the lake, watching Jongho finally come after you instead of letting you chase him. When he was close enough you could smell the alcohol on his breath, and beneath it was the awkward, misplaced sweetness of the whipped cream flavouring. You were reminded of all of the dainty, fluttery outfits figure skaters wore on the harsh ice.

"I went looking for you at the rink but obviously you weren't there," Jongho said, shrugging slightly and sending ripples out into the water around him. "I found you here last time I looked for you so..."

"You were looking for me?" you asked, thinking back to the thermos full of coffee that you'd shared. Enough for two people, you realised.

"Yeah," Jongho said. He laughed, embarrassed, and looked away from you. You recognised the quick turn of the head from the many afternoons you'd spent pretending you weren't looking at him. "I would see you at the rink and wanted to talk to you but... You look so... Immersed when you're skating. You're mesmerising. I didn't want to interrupt you, so I just watched."

The words struck a chord with you. How many times had you thought the same thing while watching him? Enough times that you couldn't count the number on both of your hands. You weren't sure there were enough hands in the whole world to count that number.

"I used to watch you too," you whispered, your bottom lip touching the water. Your words were almost swallowed up by the lake. "Since before I learned how to skate. I still watch you now."

Jongho turned to look at you again. You were both squinting to keep the sun out of your eyes but it still cast rays of light over his face that made him look the way he did when you dreamed him up in your head. He looked a lot like an angel.

"You stopped skating around me after you cut your leg," he murmured. "At first I didn't realise but you're never on the ice when I am any more."

It was a statement, but a question lay beneath his words that made you bite your lip, one that would make you admit out loud just how much his skating meant to you.

"I didn't want you to see how I skated after I got hurt," you admitted quietly.

"I did see you, though. From the door of the changing room most of the time. Your skating hasn't changed. Nothing about you has changed," he exclaimed, trying to reassure you. There was a collection of scars on your legs and fingers by now that begged to differ, but his words still settled in you like the mouthful of vodka had, making you glow from the inside out. You smiled into the lake water and felt his hand reach for yours beneath the water. The palm you had committed to memory pressed against the back of your hand. "Only the ice changed. It's not the same without you."

You thought of how the ice glittered beneath Jongho's skates, how you'd never wanted to be on it until you saw him there first. You hadn't considered that the feeling could go two ways, not when he was an ice hockey legend and you were a self-taught figure skater.

"Jongho," you breathed, because you couldn't think of anything else to say. Your world was glowing around you, and right in front of you was the reason why. Your breath tangled to form a knot in your chest while your fingers tangled with Jongho's, blunt nails digging into soft skin. And as he leaned in closer to you, all of the mayflies in your stomach died, letting out a whipped cream vodka flavoured sigh of relief that something had been accomplished during their short lifespan.

Kissing Jongho was like kissing ice. He melted beneath your touch, turned liquid against the warmth of your lips and left you shivering, your hands moving to find purchase on his neck, shoulders and cheeks – anywhere that would have you – and as he melted you found yourself melting too, turning to liquid whipped cream where his hands held your sides, thumbs playing with your bikini's strings.

The two of you did little else that afternoon other than watch each other up close. You'd rarely been around Jongho in the sun and you found that he outshone it the same way he outshone the fluorescent lights of the rink. Swimming slowly on your backs, you made it to the far side of the lake and climbed up onto the rocks. You kissed him again and then he kissed you. Each time was somehow better than the last.

Sitting on the grass by your bikes, you shared more sweet, searing mouthfuls of vodka, so that your mouths tasted of the liquid. Jongho ran his fingers over the scars scattered across your calves, all of them puffy and stark against your skin but none as deep or dangerous-looking as the healed gash you'd gotten from the ice hockey players. His touch was soft but deliberate, not exploring or wandering but visiting exact locations. After years of imagining how he'd touch the sore, damaged parts of you, you no longer had to imagine.

"What happened?" he asked, though the answer was obvious to both of you. You pressed your lips together, felt how they were wet from lake water, vodka, and Jongho.

"Ice skates are sharp," you whispered, glancing at your bag where the skates you'd been using for years lay without their guards on. "That's what you taught me when I first started skating."

You watched him finally land on the deepest, most uneven scar, the only one that wasn't self-inflicted, and how his fingers and eyes lingered there longer than the rest.

"Maybe I shouldn't have," he said softly, and though the words were sad they were gentle as well. He took your hand in his – life line against life line, fate line against fate line, heart line against heart line – and kissed your knuckles.

Summer came to its close finally with you landing a double axel in the middle of an empty rink. There was no shake in your knee on the landing and your ending pose remained steady as you moved to continue skating. In the stands, Jongho was watching you intently, following each line that your skates left behind on the ice. He averted his eyes when you looked his way and tentatively brought his gaze back to you when you continued to watch him. He was just as mesmerising off of the ice as he was on it.

A college states away offered Jongho the scholarship he'd been chasing since high school. He was going to play against better players than the ones in your town, and there was no doubt in your mind that he would beat them. He would be far away from the lake, from the rink you'd both grown up in, and from your unwavering admiration. But he'd still be the reason you stayed on the ice.

It would be months before he came home again, and while he was gone you spent afternoons staring at the rink and imagining him on it. The way his skates moved, the twitch in his lip, the grip on his hockey stick. You skated across the clean rink one morning and etched the lines of his palm into the unblemished ice. When you were done, you kneeled down and pressed your lips to the heart line.

"I brought you something," was the first thing Jongho told you when he came back, breathless from the cold lingering in the air and from the first kiss you'd shared in months. You tucked one hand beneath his jacket to hold his waist. Even through the fabric of his shirt, he was warm against your skin.

"You didn't have to bring anything," you told him, though a smile was playing on your lips. The only gift you had to give him was a routine you'd been practising on the ice since he left, clumsily and carefully choreographed to a song you'd heard him play at many a practice.

"It's nothing, really," he reassured you, reaching into his backpack and pulling out a plastic grocery bag. "Here."

Reluctantly, you let go of his waist and took the bag from him. It's weight and size all but knocked the air out of your lungs, the plastic crinkling as you pulled out the gift inside. Your eyes widened.

"Your trophy?" you exclaimed, looking down at the shining silver award his college had given him. You struggled to find the right words to say and looked up at Jongho to find him looking at you with two feelings you knew all too well: admiration and adoration. "Jongho, you can't give me your trophy."

He'd skated all his life to receive this trophy. You, after all, had only started skating to chase after a boy.

"It's just a trophy," he said, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "You're my trophy."

You opened your mouth to protest, ready to shove the trophy into his chest, only for him to cut you off.

"Look closer."

You hesitated, eyes searching his for any hint that this was a joke but finding none. All you found was the fierce excitement you saw on his face when he was about to score. With a soft sigh, you looked back down at the golden plate nailed to the trophy.

Alongside the clean, majestic font used to spell out Jongho's full name was a line of letters scratched in with a key or pocket knife, their curves sharp and the lines uneven, that spelled out your name as well. Beside it was written ICE PRINCESS in those same scratchy letters. Despite yourself, you smiled. Hugging the trophy to your chest, you leaned in to kiss Jongho again and he hugged you close to him.

Naked in bed with your legs tangled together, you traced the bruises he'd brought back home, admiring each one for the work of art that it was. Mottled hues on his tanned skin formed purple dusks, green and yellow marshes, and reddish-brown autumn leaves. You kissed each and every one that you found. He was warm under your lips, unlike the ice, but still he melted as you pressed a cheek to his stomach and held his waist. One of his hands rested against the nape of your neck, fingers kneading at your skin, and the other rested on your shoulder blade.

The TV churned out commentary for a local figure skating competition. You held onto your trophy and Jongho held onto his.

#pirateeznet #choi jongho x reader #choi jongho fluff #ateez x reader #ateez fluff

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darkk-academic · 1 year

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[Part I] [Part II] [Part III] [Part IV] [Part V]

[Morpheus x F!Reader]

Summary : Morpheus teaches you the craft of sculpting dream.

Warnings : None.

"Let me teach you."

You have been trying to adapt to your role as a dream-shaper, but all in vain.

How can anyone expect you to just be good at it?

How can he? The King of Dreams.

You were human one moment and bam! A man—ethereal in his beauty—comes knocking, spouting out about shapers, and dreams, and nightmares, and suddenly, you are nothing you thought you were.

Still. Still, you tried.

For weeks, you tried to adapt yourself to life in the dreaming—not that he was any help at all—bless Lucien and Matthew for being so understanding.

And what did he do?

Snapped at you.

Why?

Because you weren't an adept shaper in three weeks.

You're just so…so overwhelmed.

And now, now he comes after two months of silence, proclaiming he'll teach you.

He stands tall in the empty training room inside the Dream castle—the one the Dreaming itself constructed for you—looking sublime in his entirety.

The sunshine filters through the stained-glass window, changing colours, shining down on him.

The fetching view does nothing to quell your anger.

"No, thanks," you scoff.

Deliberately obvious in your ignorance of his gaze, you start to walk around him, towards the door.

Nimble fingers curl around your wrist, halting your escape.

"I have been made aware of your troubles," he starts, voice a touch hesitant, like he isn't quite sure of his words. "I must elucidate that my intention had not been one of malice, nor was it my desire to wound your heart so."

You swallow hard. He makes it so hard to stay angry. How does he do that?

"I'm trying," you say. "I truly am." You turn, peering up at him. "But it's so hard, and it's awful every time I fail. I can't measure up to—" your voice cracks.

Tears finally escaping the cage.

Morpheus draws himself closer to you. Hand coming up, he cups your face, thumb brushing under your eye.

"It is I who should be trying. It is entirely my responsibility. And I apologise for I have failed you."

There's shame in his eyes, it tugs at your heart.

"If you can find it in yourself to let me amend my mistake. Kindly, let me teach you."

"I'm still not hearing I'm sorry in that speech." Pretty eyes or not, does he think he can avoid that by his eloquent speech? Nuh huh, tears in eyes, snark on lips, that's you.

For a split second, he appears baffled, but then he nods. Bowing his head slightly, he looks at you. "I apologise for the distress I have caused you, I, with no protest, take complete accountability of my… impetuousness."

You offer him a silent stare, wanting him to squirm under your gaze the way everyone does under his, but all he does is quirk a questioning brow.

Clearing your throat, you glance away. "Apology accepted."

"And… the lessons?"

Lessons from him might just be what you need. Who can teach the craft of dreams better than the Dream King?

Gaze flicking in his direction, you flash him a small smile. "And lessons."

•••

You take it back.

You don't need lessons from him.

Not because he is a terrible teacher, quite the opposite, in fact, he's absolutely terrific.

You, on the other hand…

You are a poor excuse for a student.

A student with a pathetic, hopeless crush on him.

"Morpheus, I don't need your lessons," you practise. Nodding at yourself.

And then you enter the training room with a deep fortifying breath.

Your breath leaves in a whoosh.

The windows on one side are wide open today, letting the golden sunshine in. It entangles along the lining of Morpheus's skin, it's as though he's sun sewn into being.

This is torture.

"Hello," you say, voice hoarse.

He turns to you, inclining his head in greeting.

"We will be shaping a dream—"

"Morpheus," you cut him off.

He pauses. "Yes?"

Morpheus, I don't need your lessons.

Inhaling sharply, you push yourself to speak. "I—this…that is—"

Sensing your distress, with long strides, he closes the distance between you two.

His eyes go soft as they peer down at you. "Is something the matter?"

Morpheus, I don't need your lessons.

Lips parting, dumbfounded, you stare at him.

Calling your name, his hand hovers near your face. "Is there something you wish to say?"

Morpheus, I don't need your lessons.

"Morpheus, I need you," you blurt out. Mortified, your eyes widen. "Lessons! Your lessons, that is." You nod vigorously. "I need your lessons."

"I said as much," he replies. Walking towards the centre of the room, he peers at you over his shoulder. "Come."

"What?"

He quirks a brow. "To shape the dream."

"Oh," you sigh. "Of course, to shape the dream."

Dreaming, if you love me, open the ground beneath and let me sink. Please.

•••

You're going to combust.

Standing with your back to Morpheus's front, his hands stretched straight along with yours, fingers twining with yours, open palm sculpt the base of the dream.

Well, trying—

"To bring a dream to life, you must feel," Morpheus explains. "Envision the heat of your emotions rising, can you?"

You feel it, the heat of his breath at your nape. Your fingers twitch the wrong way.

—And failing.

His hand comes up to curl around your neck. "Focus," he commands.

His fingers graze your bare arm as his hand trails down to its previous position.

Sweet lord…

"—are you quite alright?"

You blink, flushing red. "I—I'm sorry, what were you saying?"

"It appears you are having some trouble hearing."

"Oh yes," you agree, anything to escape embarrassment. "Maybe the room is feeling mischievous today?"

Which could very well be true. The dreaming in its entirety is conscious, and has a habit of playing with its inhabitants.

He hums, the vibrations reverberate from his chest to yours.

You want to bang your head against a wall.

"Very well. I will accommodate you better, then."

Say what.

Something soft brushes near your ear, making you jump.

Morpheus's hand squeezes yours assuring. You still.

His chin comes to rest on your shoulder. Silken hair brushes the side of your cheek, you bite your lip to keep a gasp down.

"Alright?" He whispers by your ear, a tingling arises there, warm and caressing it trickles over to the line of your throat, down to your heart, and lower still to your belly.

You suppress a shudder.

"Mhm," the sound that leaves your mouth is akin to a wounded puppy's whine. Your eyes dart around, desperate to find something to distract you from the ever rising heat.

You catch sight of Morpheus and you in the window. The image of it does not help your case, him and you pressed together, his hands coverings yours give the impression of him caging you in—

Please…

And then you see.

The slight curl of Morpheus's lips.

Oh.

He knows what he's doing.

Letting your gaze go hooded, you turn your head towards him. Nose grazing his cheek, you push your back into him ever so slightly.

His breath hitches.

Teasing, your lips brush the corner of his as you rasp, "Alright?"

Game on.

………………………………………………………………………

A/N :

Wanted to see whether I could write chemistry between two people.

Not sure if there's chemistry in this one or not.

Hope you guys enjoyed this.

Thankyou! ❤️

#morpheus x you #morpheus x reader #the sandman x reader #the sandman x you #dream of the endless x you #dream of the endless x reader #the sandman #lord morpheus #dream of the endless #the sandman oneshot #the sandman imagine

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hesbuckcompton-baby · 1 month

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hiiiii can i ask for either "sick" or "dancing" for gwen and brady? whichever you feel most inspired about!

thank you so much blu! I have ideas for both of these prompts, so I'll probably write the second one soon, too!

dancing -> gwen dastrup x john brady

John's foot tapped steadily against the hardwood floor as the band continued with their tune, his fingers leaping across the saxophone keys with practised precision, the melody coming so naturally to him that he scarcely had to think about it, letting his gaze wander from the sheet music propped up in front of him. The crowds twirled and danced across the floor below the stage, a testament to his good work, but he couldn't focus on them, their spinning forms dizzying him if he stared for too long. No, there was a sight far more worthy of his attention beyond the dancefloor.

Separated by an open arch, the bar that snaked around the opposite side of the officers' club was visible through the bustle of partygoers trying to secure a drink. The bartender worked away relentlessly, but stood beside him was that all-too-familiar head of golden curls, pouring pints with trained efficiency, sliding a tray of glasses across the bar to where Douglass and Hambone stood waiting, a pleasant smile curling her lip.

The Red Cross girls danced at almost every party. Gwen Dastrup, however, did not. Brady had never gotten a chance to ask her why - it certainly wasn't for a lack of invitation. They couldn't pass a night at the officers' club without half a dozen pilots trying their luck, attempting to woo her out from behind the bar. It was rare that a man got the chance to dance with a girl as pretty as Gwen, and heartbreaking when said chance passed them by.

She leaned forward across the bar, holding out her chin so that Tatty could wipe away a smudge in her lipstick. Gwen grinned, and John felt the stern glare of the man sitting beside him as his finger slipped, skimming the wrong note by mistake. Damn. He forced himself to look away, to push out any distraction until the song was over. As the melody found its close, he pushed himself up from his seat, grateful that the next song on the band's roster had no need of him.

Gwen was crouched behind the bar, rummaging for a new bottle of scotch as he arrived, leaning on his elbows to peer down at her. "Gwen?" Brady called, his voice startling her, and she almost smacked her head on the shelf as she jolted upright a bottle of spirit in each hand.

"Oh, hey," She shrugged with false nonchalance, face heating up a bright red at her near fumble.

"I got a question," He stated, still leaning halfway across the bar towards her as she unscrewed the top off one of the bottles and began pouring another round of drinks for a nearby table.

"Well don't leave me hangin'."

"Why won't you dance with me?" John asked. Gwen paused, arching a brow. "I don't mean anythin' by it, it's just... I wanna know if I should stop getting my hopes up, s'all."

She frowned, stepping out from behind the bar and slipping past him as she delivered another tray of glasses to the pilots sitting nearby. He took a step closer as she turned back to him, their bodies almost pressed together with how close they stood. Her hand was half-covering her mouth as she spoke, a tint of embarrassment colouring her cheeks.

"I don't... I don't know how," She admitted.

Brady paused, tilting his head to the side. "Gwen Dastrup, are you telling me you never learned to dance?"

"They just hired me 'cause I'm pretty," Gwen shrugged as if it were obvious. As far as he was concerned, 'pretty' wasn't an adequate word for it.

"Alright, well, that's not gonna cut it," Shaking his head, he reached for the cuff of her sleeve, tugging her towards the door. She shook her head slightly, trailing cautiously behind him.

"Brady, what're you doing?"

"Teaching."

It was deserted out in the hall, the partygoers too preoccupied with dancing and drinking to stray beyond the dancefloor and bar. Gwen almost rolled her eyes at the ridiculousness of Brady's venture, but when he turned back to look at her there was no humour in his expression. He meant business.

"Alright, okay, so - stand... like this," He began, gentle hands on her shoulders, guiding her into place. Nudging her with his toe, his pushed her feet across the carpet until she was standing correctly. "Feet like that... ok, you take this hand, on my shoulder, and I hold this one. Yeah?"

"I have seen people dance before," Gwen pointed out, his meticulous instruction striking her as more than necessary.

Brady nodded firmly, satisfied with his work so far. Her palm slotted comfortably against his, skin soft beneath his fingertips, and her cheeks flushed slightly as his hand found its way to her waist. Although muffled, the music was still audible from out here, and he nodded in time with the beat, peering down at their feet.

"Left foot first... then right, like that... and you count - one, two, three, one, two, three," He spoke softly, breath fanning her slightly, its warmth skimming across her cheek. Gwen stared down at her feet, moving in time with his instructions, matching his own steps as best she could.

"One, two, three - one, two, three," She uttered to herself, brow furrowed in concentration. After a moment of stepping in circles with the music, she looked up to find him staring at her, a grin creasing his cheeks. A sudden wave of embarrassment washed over her and Gwen let out an involuntary snort of laughter, releasing her grip on his hand.

"No, no, that was good," Brady assured her. "Keep goin'."

"But people always talk when they're dancing, I can't just count my steps the whole time," She huffed frustratedly.

"So practice. Talk about something."

Gwen's brow furrowed, drawing her lips between her teeth slightly as she considered what to say. Her eyes widened, and Brady could practically see the idea blooming in her mind.

"I was reading an article this morning - did you know that at the funeral of William the Conqueror, the church got robbed whilst he was lying in state, and then when they tried to put him in his casket his bowels exploded?"

He opened his mouth to say something, but for a long moment, no words came. Tilting his head to the side, John nodded. "D'you know what? I did not know that, no."

She shrugged, chuckling lightly. "Probably shouldn't say that specifically next time."

Brady began to grin, shaking his head. "I dunno, I think it'll scare off the ones who ain't worth your time."

Gwen mirrored his grin, beaming up at him, perfect teeth peeking out between perfectly red lips. He would do her a disservice to call her beautiful. Girls like Gwen were called beautiful so many times a day it lost its meaning - it didn't take anyone special to notice it, it was the first thing anyone ever saw. But she'd been dancing in time with the music for the last few minutes without having to count, and she hadn't even noticed it.

"See, now you've got it. Any fella'd be lucky to have you," He said, nodding to her. She considered this, beginning to smile, that ever-present blush blooming in her cheeks once more.

"Why, thank you, Cap'n."

#john brady #gwen x brady #oc: gwen #masters of the air #masters of the air oc #mota #mota oc #john brady x oc #prompts #helena writes

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minas-linkverse · 1 year

Text

Gentle Linkverse scenarios cause its been a rough day

Twilight and Colin sometimes find clay in the waters around Ordon Village. They make little trinkets and attempts at useful things like trinket holders. The other kids like to join sometimes, but their parents dont always let them due to how messy they get.

One of Colin's favourite things was the little goat family he and Link made and ended up coming up with a whole storyline for.

They're all displayed with pride, and Link said he'll bring paint from castle town soon. They shall be a beautiful and colourful family. 💛

The coat Wind has wrapped around his waist is Linebeck's old coat. It's seen far better days and it doesnt actually do much as a coat. Linebeck doesn't really get why Link insisted on taking it instead of letting him throw it out.

He's give the excuse that he wants to practise sewing, and shown off the various patches he's added as proof. Linebeck isn't so sure that's true however.

Trying to figure it out, he fumbled about asking about it in various round about ways. Comedically fell on his butt a few times and got hit by a sign. Yet no answers from Link...

Finally, while nursing the wound on his nose, Tetra walked in and said she'll tell him why Link wanted the coat, in exchange for him to take outhouse duty that week. At first he refused, saying he doesn't care about this THAT much... But as Tetra turned to leave he accepted the deal.

Linebeck struggled to believe what Tetra said as the truth, but couldn't deny it either. She said Link would miss the coat because it reminded him of Linebeck...

Silly kid, he was right here! Who needs an old rag of a coat for that.

He is now secretly working on getting a new excellent quality coat, not for himself but for Link. Why? Er, he just doesnt want to see the kid run around with that thing anymore... Yeah, that's all. Mhm. Tetra why are you smirking. Stop.

Groose, inspired by Pippit's delicious pastries, picked up a book on candy making from skyloft. He's made a few batches of some fairly okay-ish treats, which he showed off to Zelda and Link. He is a bit too nervous to show the others yet... Er, well not nervous! He just... He just wants to make the best batch possible!

He asked for input on what flavours he should try next, and Zelda suggested various fruits they'd found on the surface. Link meanwhile took a moment to ponder things, before offering with that usual smile of his: "Fish?"

After baffled questioning he did admit he knew it wasn't an usual flavour for sweets, but he'd always been curious of the idea...

Groose decided then and there— against Zelda's wishes— That he would commit his candy training on figuring out the perfect fish candy! Don't worry Link, I wont let you down!

Link told him it's really not that important, but Groose had already set his mind to it.

So far? No luck. It tastes awful. Zelda suggested he make them a normal flavour but in the shape of a fish. Groose is now attenpting to make fish flavoured candy in the shape of a fish.

The next few tries did not look like fish. What they looked liked shall not be spoken of, in fact.

He continues to practise, though! And although this goal seems to be doomed to fail, all the trial and error has really made his normal candy making skills improve and FAST. Perhaps when he realises how good he's gotten, he'll finally feel satisfied.

#Linkverse #Twilight #Wind #Groose #Writing

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luke-o-lophus · 2 years

Text

Ornithological & Other Oddities (Steven Grant x F! Reader)

Summary : Steven loves to read, and he tends to hyperfixate on his topics of choice. You usually find it adorable and exciting, but it's a Friday night and you'd much rather have your boyfriend in bed than have him poring over a book all night. Looks like it's time to share your own knowledge on his current topic of interest : Animal Behaviour

Warnings : Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, inuendos and nerdy sex-talk, no protection mentioned explicitly, fluff, no angst!

...................................................................

You sit up with a groan, lips pursed in a pout. The clock shows half past one, officially too late to be awake on a 'lazy Friday night in'. You decide to seek him out, he's already said "Just ten more minutes!" thrice over the past hour. Steven doesn't look up when you enter the study, nose pinched in concentration as he pores over a book through his glasses. His latest obsession was animal behaviour. The representation of animals in Egyptian Mythology was where it started, and now he has been consuming book after book on animal behaviour, from primates to sea anemones. You pad over to him, throwing your arms around his neck from behind and placing your chin on his shoulder, barely getting any response.

"Looove", you whine. "I miss you."

"Hmm?'', he goes. "Is it late?"

"Half past one", the pout is evident in your voice. Steven leans his head back a little to nuzzle the side of your face, eyes still trained on his book. "Sorry, love", he quips. "Readin' this chapter on birds of paradise....did y'know some species...the males practise a dance for months on the off chance a female will like it and mate, all that for one moment of attention?"

You hold in a roll of eyes, a quip at the tip of your tongue comparing that to your current situation. But you resort to rubbing your nose behind his ear, one arm leaving his shoulder. "That's cool'', you say. "Does it say anything about what the female does for attention?" "Nope", he replies, the hint going over his engrossed mind. "See, love, the females are not colourful, but they're the prize catch, yeah? So they don't have to do much..at least in these..but well in other animals..." "Primates?" He nods, leaning his head on yours. "Yeah so...well macaque females seduce males, and well, they have an alpha in the troop, so the females all...." His words die on his lips.

A small purple piece of clothing had landed on his lap from top, the fabric soft and warm against the yellow lighting of the room. You're humming, your mouth against the shell of his ears now, licking down the length of it and sucking his earlobe into your mouth. Steven shivers in your hold.

"I-is that your panty, my love, that you were...wearing?"

You hum your affirmation against his ear, letting it go with a small pop and kissing down to his neck, both arms hung around his shoulders again. "Go on, tell me more about how them female monkeys seduce alpha males", you speak in a throaty whisper, sinking your teeth in his nape immediately after.

Steven swallows thickly, he is now hyper aware of your breasts pressing into his back through layers of clothing. Between that and your constant attention to the sensitive patch on his neck, you have definitely gotten his full attention.

"Go on", you urge between kisses to his neck, moving a bit to his side and letting your fingers reach under his shirt.

"I-it's not always the alpha...sometimes it's the..oh shit...younger..shit..'', the swear is brought upon by your hand reaching up to his chest and a nail being dragged on his nipple.

"Interesting", you quip cheerily, eyes dancing as you press a wet kiss to the reddened spot on his neck. "Why don't you continue your reading while I...conduct an experiment on primate behaviour?"

His eyes were wide now, needy and confused but also excited. Before he can open his mouth to ask what you meant, you had pulled back his chair, getting a yelp out of him, and in one step you had moved to his front. He finally gets a look at you. You wore one of his flannel shirts, top button opened, and that's all you wore. Your hair was a bit messy from bed. With your playful smirk, you were the most gorgeous thing Steven had seen. He licks his lips as you lean in, his eyes fluttering shut when you are hairs apart. But they meet empty air as your lips find the other side of his neck, kissing there then down along his clothed torso. Steven grunts in frustration, hands fisted on the armrests of his chair. When he opens his eyes, you're kneeling before him, your cleavage coyly peeking from the top of your shirt. "Enjoy your book, love, keep the facts coming and this experiment will be a success", you pull the chair again, effectively caging yourself under the table, disappearing from his sight again. He was still reeling when he feels your palm against his crotch, and a long whine leaves his throat. Your hand is still however, just cupping his manhood.

"I-I read something about bonobos..." he tried, and immediately your hands start moving. You're palming and squeezing him through his sweatpants, and Steven has to count his breaths to keep his mind clear enough to speak. "The bonobo community is matriarchal...unlike chimps...both are our..", a sharp breath at a rough squeeze."C-close relatives."

Your lips are on him now, pressing and nibbling, your cool saliva soaking the front of his pants and making him shiver. "Bonobos are peaceful...th-they sometimes..resolve conflicts w-with sex", he feels your laugh rumble through his core, and that's all he can take of the game. "Love", his voice is a whine. "Please..let me feel you, you're too far.."

He's pushed back again and your head reappears between his legs, lips wet and eyes dancing in triumph. "You want me to stop the experiment?" you ask innocently. "No", he answers, his fingers creeping to the back of your neck and holding you gently before you can disappear again. "I just have a better experimental setup in mind."

It's your turn to hold in a thrilled gasp, as you become of his fingers in your locks, the dark lust in his eyes. Before you can sass him back, his free hand has reached down to your breast and gotten hold of a hard nipple through your shirt. "You see, love, the key to behavioural studies is observation", his voice is playful despite the heavy sexual tension in the room. "And right now, I want to observe what the human female does when I do this..." His voice is lowered to a whisper and he tugs you up by your hair and your nipple. You fall in a sitting position on his thick thighs with a squeal, lips open and panting. He makes quick work of your buttons and dives into your breasts, covering them in wet kisses and sharp nips. All you can do is gasp and groan, hands quickly grabbing onto his curls for balance. You're grinding onto him then, your bare crotch against his clothed one, making it even wetter. "Take me from behind, Steven, please", you gasp out. His lips stop just for a moment to listen and he nods. You're both standing up then, lips crashing together in a quick searing kiss, then he spins you around and presses you against the table. You hear his pants fall, and then his warm hardness pressing between your rear cheeks.

"Do me a favour and read the book, hun", he teases you, rubbing against your folds but not pressing in. You groan at the torturous payback, grinding indignantly again him in a plea for mercy.

"No can do love", he chuckles, mouth biting into your neck and both his hands reach forward to tug and play with your nipples, nearly making you cry at the sensation.

"B-bowerbirds build structures from twigs and.." you start reading out and you can feel his tip start to push in. "They collect colourful items to attract mates....usually b-blue and..." He suddenly pushes all the way in, and your voice dies in your throat, lips parted in a silent scream at being filled so suddenly. His lips are immediately all over your neck, pressing soft soothing kisses while his fingers resort to gentle massages of your breasts. "Oh love, so good for me, relax...lemme take care of'ya", he whispers between kisses, giving you time to adjust like the sweet man he was. You whimper in response, breathing heavily for a few beats then wiggling your hips as a signal to continue. The first few strokes are slow, deep, and heavy..but the cries they pull from your throat quickly sets him to a faster pace, hips slamming to your cheeks. His hands are moving too, pulling and tugging your nipples just they way he knew you liked, and you're lost in pleasure, head thrown back and back arched. He presses his face into your shoulder, thrusts deep and strong and following your increasingly desperate moans. "I..I'm..", you whine. "Let go love", he soothes into your neck, his own thrusts erratic and stuttering as he gets close to the edge. You come undone first, your cries so sweet and raw that Steven feels his core tighten, letting himself teeter off the edge as well. He grabs onto your breasts like they're a lifeline as the waves pass over him, and then you both are left in a pile of panting breaths and soft touches.

Steven gives himself a moment to catch his breath then pulls out slowly, kissing your shoulder when he hears you hiss at the sensation. "Wow", he whispers, helping you stand up and letting you hold him with your head resting on his chest.

"yeah..", you agree breathlessly, body still trembling from the aftershocks. You stand holding each other for a while before Steven kisses the top of your head and whispers,"Let's get cleaned up and hit the hay"

You mumbled in agreement,''I'm sorry I interrupted you, I was lonely."

He nods and kisses your brow again,"I'm glad you did, I get carried away sometimes.." he admits sheepishly. You chuckle, looking up in adoration at your beautiful partner. You share a sweet kiss then, the desperate passion in your bodies having given way to the sweet familiarity of your home and a lazy Friday night in. "I think I need more lessons on animal behaviour", you mumble cheekily against his lips. Steven snorts in laughter at that and gently leads you to your bathroom.

(Fun fact: The title of the fic is the name of a real book on bird behaviour!)

#steven with a v #steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant smut #moon knight x reader #moon knight #moon knight smut #the moon knight #reader smut #sweet smut #marvel smut #fluffy smut

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malestransforming · 1 year

Text

Becoming Papi

An unnamed narrator wins a competition to get "up close and personal" with his favourite hockey player, Auston Matthews. Turns out he may be getting closer and more personal than he anticipated!

This is a story I've posted elsewhere. It is my story, copyright me.

"Get Up-close and Personal with Auston Matthews!” The competition had said. I had entered on a whim, never expecting to win. I was very surprised to receive the winning notice in my inbox a few days later. For a week, I had been buzzing. I was going to meet my favourite hockey player! Number 34 of the Toronto Maple Leafs: Auston Matthews.

And now I was here! Sitting in a random training room at the Ford Performance Centre in Etobicoke, Ontario, just outside of Toronto. The room was cool and full of exercise equipment. Massive banners hung from the ceiling and the walls were covered in different murals of player faces and motivational phrases. I fiddled with my shirt as I waited, thinking about how Auston was likely in the next room also waiting for me. I wondered if he was as nervous as I was or if he was calm and cool, but before I could put much into the thought, the door opened. A woman dressed in black poked her head through the gap.

“You can come in now,” she said.

I smiled and and followed her through the door. The room on the other side was a long room, with wooden dressing stalls and benches against the walls. Hockey equipment hung at each stall; pants, shoulder pads, blue and white practise jerseys and the room had a gentle odour of sweat. A massive Maple Leaf logo covered much of the floor, and sitting on one of the wooden benches was Auston Matthews. He was wearing a cream coloured hoodie, shorts and a baseball cap. The way he sat on the bench pushed his thighs, making them seem thicker and bigger. His hair was slicked back behind his ears while his dark moustache was sitting darkly on his upper lip.

“Auston,” I murmured, reaching towards him with my hand. “It’s so, so incredible to meet you!”

“Hey,” he said in a relaxed drawl and standing up to meet me. He was taller than me. His smile instantly relaxed me. “Nice to meet you.”

“I’m such a big fan. You’re, like, my favourite player.” I was gushing, but I didn’t care.

He was killing me with that smile. I realized I was still gripping his hand.

“Oh sorry!” I said, but his hand tightened and firmed around mine. I felt a warm tingling around my palm for a moment before he let go and grinned at me.

“You’re going to be perfect,” he said. “What happens next is going to be weird… Just relax and let it happen.”

He let go of my hand and I felt my face contort into a puzzled expression. But before I was able to voice a question, I was met with an extreme pricking sensation travelling up my arm. It started in the hand Auston had just shook and gradually travelled and radiated across my body. It felt like a warm, relaxing wave that cascaded through my blood and over my skin.

“You should probably take off your clothes for this,” Auston said.

I nodded and did what I was told, tossing everything in a corner. The waves were coursing faster through my body now, making my heart thump in my chest. I spied a mirror on the wall and walked over to it, ignoring the fact that I was naked. The tingling sensation was across my entire body now, causing me to become excited and aroused. My penis began to lift and grow harder, and so it only felt right to touch it. I stood naked in the Maple Leafs’ dressing at their practice facility, feeling dazed and tingly, stroking my cock for extra sensation.

The tingling stopped, but the warmth remained and a sudden jolt of energy attacked my shoulders. My shoulders clicked and popped and widened out, with new muscle mass stretching overtop. At the same time, my deltoids and pectoral muscles ballooned, becoming thicker and much more pronounced with thick layers of muscle. I felt strength and power push down into my core. Where once there had been a ring of fat, there were now strong abdominal muscles. My stomach tightened and fortified, needing more room to house the brawn I was gaining, and I became stocky and heavy-set in muscle. Dark lines sketched their way across my right side and arm: new tattoos inked their way onto my bulked mass. An intricate sleeve tattoo wove across my right arm, painting dark lines across my lightly browning skin. I stroked my hand across my chest, feeling the raw strength and newly sprouted chest hair underneath my fingertips. My back cracked and stretched as I jumped up several inches in height.

The skin on my penis darkened and the shaft grew in girth and length into a monster cock. Pre-cum began to drip out of the tip. I was enjoying the changes.

In the mirror I saw a wide-chested, bulked out body attached to two stick-like legs. To say it looked like I skipped leg day would be an understatement. Almost automatically, the changes continued in my lower half. My butt ballooned and padded out, looking like two globes attached to my waist, the product of millions of squats. My thighs thickened and increased significantly, looking more like massive trunks than legs now. Below that, my calves became cut and toned, shedding any excess fat and leaving behind only raw muscle. I stood on two strong centres of explosive power. The skin browned slightly, matched the hue of the my torso.

I looked in the mirror at my new body. Instinctively, I knew it was Auston Matthews’ body. Everything from the neck down was unfamiliar, different and new, but deep down I knew it was right. In fact, it looked odd seeing my thin head attached to such a muscular body. The changes were not finished yet. I turned and saw the other Auston (the real Auston) with his shorts around his ankles, stroking his penis vigorously; it appeared he was enjoying my changes as much as I was.

Turning back to the mirror, I saw my skull and expanding, creaking and cracking as it went. My chin pushed forward, squaring off the back of my jaw as well. My eyes became more inset, slightly narrower and darker and my nose more pointed and wide at the nostrils. My hair lengthened down towards my neck, and my forehead broadened as my hairline migrated to the very top of my head. My ears flattened a little against my head and became longer. The wild and bushy eyebrows I sported before thinned, becoming tapered lines above my dark eyes. My teeth whitened and straightened. And above my thickening lips, a dark wisp of hair poked out through my skin and thickened into a Latino-style moustache. It swept across my entire upper lip into a neat half triangle that stretched under my nose. More patches of scruff and facial hair dotted across my cheeks and neck. Auston Matthews was staring at me from the mirror.

“That was sick, bro!” The other Auston Matthews was behind me, retying the drawstring on his shorts. He was wearing a face mask now, and a dark blue coloured hoodie and cap. His eyes looked lighter than before, almost like he had changed his own appearance as well. He stepped over, offering me his hand to high-five.

I felt my face smile that trademark Auston Matthews smile. “Thanks,” I replied, my voice now lower and echoing the same laid-back drawl, and returned his high-five.

“You probably have a million questions. Like ‘what happened’, ‘what did you do?’, right?”

“Something like that!” I laughed.

“So, yeah, basically… I want some time off. I’m going to disappear for a while… Get off the grid and relax. So while I’m gone, I want you to cover for me. This is your prize for winning that competition!”

“So I’m you?” I said, not fully understanding.

“Not yet. You will be, just as soon as I’ve said the code word. After that, you will be Auston Matthews and I’ll just be some guy.”

“Oh,” I said. “I- I’m pretty shit at hockey. Like, I can skate but I can’t shoot for shit. I can’t even lift the puck. I don’t know how this is gonna work.”

“Don’t worry about that. As soon as I say the code word, the transformation will finish and you’ll have all of my skills and memories, my winning personality… everything! You’ll be a complete copy of me.”

“Really? That’s fucking awesome! But what about the me from before? People are going to wonder where I am.”

“I’ll take care of that. Don’t worry. Let’s just say, that guy from before? He’s living on the other side of the planet. I’ll be back in a year, maybe more if you want, and I’ll change you back. All right?”

A life of possibilities flashed through my mind. I had never thought of playing in the NHL, even as a fantasy, and now it was about to become my reality.

“Oh! I forgot one thing,” Auston said as he lifted his arms behind his neck to two silver chains that were hooked there. “You’ll need these,” he said, and he carefully slipped them around my neck.”

I looked into the mirror, staring back at my naked body, taking in my massive hockey butt and sleeve tattoo. The silver chains caught the light, and a silver cross stuck against my massive pectorals. It felt complete now. I ran my hands over my shoulders, chest, stomach and butt, grinning at myself. I’m going to be Auston Matthews! I thought. No, I am Auston Matthews!

“All right bud, this is it. Remember, from this moment, you are going to be Auston Matthews. It’s going to feel awesome and amazing. Enjoy it.” The other Auston wrapped his arm around my beefy neck. “Don’t forget, you’ve got practice after this, ay Papi?”

Papi? A calm fog entered my brain. The world melted away from me and I felt the final changes take hold.

My name is Auston Matthews. I was born in California and grew up in Scottsdale, Arizona. I am part Mexican. I am a professional hockey player. I play for the Toronto Maple Leafs.

My name is Auston Matthews. I was born in California and grew up in Scottsdale, Arizona. I am part Mexican. I am a professional hockey player. I play for the Toronto Maple Leafs…

My name is Auston Matthews.

My brain filled with years of hockey practice, workouts, flashes of Mexican heritage, memories of playing for USA National Team, playing with the ZSC Lions in Zürich and of playing with the Toronto Maple Leafs. I remembered the awards I had won, the All Star games I had played in, the teammates I had played with. My brain relaxed and mellowed, as new personality traits took over. The foreign-feeling muscles I had just grown became familiar and normal; I immediately knew how to use the power in my legs and arms. Some Spanish words entered my brain and I felt my identity switch to part Mexican. The fog lifted from my brain, and the room re-materialised around me.

What am I doing here, staring at myself in the mirror! I need to get dressed for practice!

I immediately strode over to my dressing stall — the one marked MATTHEWS 34 — and slipped on my compression gear and skate socks. I grabbed my jock and pulled it up to my waist, adjusting my crotch and penis to sit within the cup. Sitting, I reached for my shin pads, fixed him to my legs, and strapped the Velcro around my calves. I pulled a pair of blue and white striped hockey socks overtop of my shin pads, and hooked them securely at my waist.

I was on autopilot at this point; everything felt natural and normal.

I slid into a pair of blue hockey pants and tightened them around my waist. I saw that my skates were a custom pair of CCMs, with a blue and white pattern around the ankle with my nickname Papi and number 34 next to it. I stomped my foot inside the boot and tied my skates on tight. Quickly, I took a roll of hockey tape and wrapped one, two, three strips tightly around my shins. Next I grabbed my shoulder pads and elbow pads and strapped them around my massive arms and chest. I pulled a blue practise jersey over my pads, the number 34 emblemed on the back. Instinctively, I ran my hand through my hair and slicked it back, making it easier for me to don my helmet. I clipped the straps and checked it was on tightly.

I reached for my gloves, putting them on felt familiar and welcoming. I nimbly ambled over, walking in skates, towards the rink exit, grabbing two of my PAPI labelled sticks from the rack. They were already taped and waxed and ready for some quick wristers on the ice. With my equipment on and my sticks in hand, I walked towards the ice.

Before stepping on the rink, I noticed a figure in the stands; an anonymous figure in a cream-coloured hoodie. I offered a loose salute from my temple and took my first stride. I let my powerful leg muscles work the way they had been conditioned to as I made confident movements across the pad. Spying a puck, I pivoted and strode towards it, catching it with my stick and pulling it towards me. I skated towards the empty net and in an instant, snapped it into the back of the goal. The whole movement had taken less than a second. I grinned and looked back to the now empty spot where the figure had stood.

“My name is Auston Matthews, and I play for the Toronto Maple Leafs,” I thought to myself and ripped off another shot on goal.

#male tf #hockey #hockey transformation #auston matthews #racial change #jock transformation

151 notes · View notes

ritzy-dream-boy · 4 months

Text

hello gay people in my phone here is 6061 words of nimona analysis i made over the course of about 4 hours (the film itself is 1hr 42mins i was pausing and rewinding a A LOT)

my other nimona posts are here, here, and here

i will be referring to nimona throughout this analysis/commentary with she/he/they/it

i am also happy to take asks about it

•the obvious classism - ballister being mistreated by the other knights, having to put his armour on by himself while the others have squires to help and only ambrosius helping him, being the first normal person to make it as a knight. and the fact his armour is both a different, darker colour to the rest and clearly of a lower quality.

•the fact ballister INSTANTLY notices that there is something off with his sword because it’s not HIS sword, but he doesn’t mention it (i’m assuming he’s putting it down to nerves)

•the director saying ‘today the people will see you for who you truly are’ is such a good double meaning - to ballister and ambrosius (hearing bc he’s stood right next to him) it’s praise for ballister being able to prove he’s worth the chance and that he’s not what people think, but for the director orchestrating the whole thing it’s got the darker meaning, bc she has never wanted him there and agrees with the knights (pretty much) that he doesn’t deserve anything, and she means that the people will see him as the ‘monster’ he is

•the way ambrosius reacts to the queen’s death/ballister’s apparent actions - instead of disarming him or even just removing his hand, he goes for the whole arm. it’s a testament to his training and the way he’s been raised, despite his relationship with ballister it was instinct/memory to remove the threat, with as much force as possible honestly. as well as it reflecting the knights training, it reflects the overarching message of the kingdom and how they react to threats/perceived monsters with intent to destroy/attack rather than nullify peacefully.

•nimona’s teeth being the first thing we clearly see about their appearance, the fact their teeth are clearly drawn to have sharper canines/fangs to instantly show us that he’s not human. the teeth aren’t actually drawn any sharper in this brief moment, but if you look closely they’re a brighter shade of white than the rest and to me that shows the same thing.

•the very first instance of nimona meeting a human is being called a freak just because they’re THERE - it’s based solely on her appearance because at this point in time no one knows what it is, it instantly shows the message of ‘different = bad’ and in this case rather than classism like with ballister and the knights (though if we were to put them in a class it would be working/peasantry however you wanna put it) it’s just because of his appearance. this also shows her defence mechanism, and how used to it they are, he doesn’t even LOOK at the guy when she sprays him with paint, because it’s a practised motion. some people will probably put that down to ‘oh it’s because she’s focused on the news’ when in reality it’s because they have had so much experience with hate over the many years it’s lived that he doesn’t even need to look anymore.

•the news announcement. yes, nimona’s plan is to dismantle the kingdom and chooses ballister as a boss because of what he supposedly did, all these things being said about how he’s a murderer who should never be trusted, everyone is scared of him and he’s not one of them. that he’s a monster at which point nimona says ‘he’s perfect’. because yes, they chose ballister for the fact he’s an outcast who hates the kingdom like nimona does. but also, nimona chooses him because it sees itself in ballister. they have been called all of those things (the news even name dropped him as ‘the most hated thing since gloreth’s monster’) and more, and that reflection is what matters most.

•THE FACT NIMONA IS ALMOST EXCLUSIVELY REFERRED TO AS ‘THE MONSTER’ OR ‘GLORETH’S MONSTER’. THE LEVEL OF POSSESSION THE REVERED HERO AND BY EXTENSION ALL HUMANS HAVE OVER SOMETHING/SOMEONE THEY DEEM LESSER THAN THEMSELVES. TO THE POINT THEY NEVER EVEN GIVE NIMONA/THEIR MONSTER A NAME OF ITS OWN.

•ballister building himself a fully functional prosthetic arm with one hand in a broken tower outside of the kingdom with (presumably) limited supplies (while also listening to banger music)

•the fact that his immediate weapon is a broken bottle, showing the massive downgrade of his circumstances, but also showing how he is still the same man with the same training because his response to a threat is to arm himself and he has that bottle within immediate reach. plus his reflexes to grab the falling tin/can without even looking because that would give away his position. but also, showing that softness we see more clearer later in the film because he is BLASTING that music through (what looks to me like) a speaker system he also presumably built one handed (or stole but i don’t think his morals would allow that)

•nimona’s instant beloved weirdness (and the now clearer sharper than average canines) with the ‘did they let you keep the old one’ and their whole demeanour throughout this meeting scene shows their distinct inhuman-ness while still allowed him to maintain its cover - the casual dismissal of a bottle in their face, the ‘little girls? how old do you think i am?’ with a tone of offence and the sense that the second question is an inside joke with themself, the complete disregard of dangerous objects (grabbing a flamethrower, leaning on a spinning table saw and stopping it with their arm because they know it won’t cause much damage, grabbing a knife by the blade)

•in the same scene, nimona’s childish nature. while they may be centuries old, the spinning on the chair, the wheeling about instead of walking, the drawing style is all so incredibly childlike and it’s a testament to the fact nimona IS still a child despite being older than a human can truly comprehend. for all we know, since nimona is the last/only of his kind, this is how it works, maybe adulthood doesn’t come for centuries more. and that childishness (said positively), the fact it IS a child, is also reflected much later on with the way they react.

•also the fact the drawings are what happen later on (specifically the rhino one)

•the way nimona moves faster than ballister can comprehend - this is what made me realise the first time i watched this film that nimona isn’t human. (i have a talent for predicting twists/outcomes in films very early on with 100% accuracy)

•the way nimona reacts to ballister saying he’s not a villain - initially (to me) their tone when asking if ballister isn’t a villain has a tiny smudge of hope (that someone it sees itself in isn’t like them) but that then moves to disappointment when he confirms. because despite that initial hope, nimona truly believes at this point that it is a monster and is a villain and has leant into it this entire time because if people call you something enough you’ll choose to give them what they want and/or you’ll believe it. (this is then also shown briefly with nimona’s comment to ballister in the cell with ‘once everyone sees you as a villain that’s what you are, no matter how hard you try’, and that vulnerability before the instant click back to her regular way of acting)

•the director’s entire demeanour. cold, calculating, presenting herself as the victim who was done wrong, ignoring the way ballister pleads his innocence knowing full well that he is. it’s chilling.

•’break stuff.’ ‘that’s a hard no.’ followed by ballister sneaking and nimona’s casual destruction of property

•additional comment, i truly believe nimona’s weirdness/gory comments are because they don’t really know what humans consider weird/against norms so they say whatever comes to mind

•’ambrosius.’ ‘gesundheit.’ but also the way that trust between ballister and ambrosius is broken, even though ambrosius still calls him ‘bal’ (show that he doesn’t truly believe it’s true, or at least doesn’t want to) ballister can not trust the man who cut off his arm.

•LIGHT SYMBOLISM - it’s first shown in the armour, but also in that face off. ambrosius is fully in the light, ballister (and nimona) is not. i feel like i shouldn’t have to explain exactly what this means with their place in society and the way they’re perceived.

•nimona trusting ballister enough to show their true nature and making him promise to not freak out, ballister instantly freaking out because nimona is a ‘monster’ - but also the rhino scene from the drawing

•’what are you?’ ‘i’m nimona!’ + ‘i’m a lot of things’ - their identity is very simply nimona, that’s who he is. nothing that can be simplified to what ballister tries to label it as.

•nimona’s eye shines being rounded, ballister’s being squares when at the start they were diamonds, ambrosius’ being diamonds until over halfway through. - it’s about the connection to the kingdom and institute. ambrosius is fully in there under their control, ballister is separated after the queen’s death but still has faith in the people who raised him and took him in, nimona is far from both humans and trust in the rulers.

•similar to the above point, overall character design. nimona is rounded in general, their design is softer despite the way they present themself as a threat, someone to be feared, someone with jagged hair and piercings. it’s the truth of who he is. something soft, something scared, something that is not a threat. the director is smoothed, polished, but it’s not the same. she is still sharp, she is still a threat despite everything about her being clean and poised and someone to be trusted. the knights have rounded armour, to make them appear safe to citizens, to be seen as trustworthy too because they are defenders and monster killers. ambrosius has the same armour but specifically his hair is rounded, and that difference is everything because despite him being the literal golden boy, descendant of gloreth, he is genuinely someone to trust who wants what is right and the only reason he is on the institute’s side is because until later that is what he truly believes is right. ballister is in the same armour (just with the colour theory in play) but at the same time his armour is more jagged, it’s not as smooth as the others. it’s a deliberate choice to make him seem less trustworthy than the others because of his status and where he comes from.

•the similarity between ballister and nimona just in the fact they both blast music when they’re in their element (though nimona’s is through his headphones because to me it is linked to having to be under the radar)

•’i made it more evil lair-y’ but there is clearly fairy lights in the background and l art over the walls. the combination of both nimona’s act and the truth.

•ballister’s instant training response (much like ambrosius’ arm removal service) being to go for a weapon as he remembers nimona isn’t human because they are perceived as a threat, but also backing away when he remembers he doesn’t have a sword because despite everything nimona has done (breaking him out, decorating the lair, cooking him breakfast tacos) he STILL sees her as a threat. - additionally, nimona’s instant defensive nature and clocking that ballister is going for the offence he doesn’t have, but it presents as aggression because that is how they know to defend themself. the only actual aggression is when ballister calls him a monster because who wouldn’t react that way at hearing something that has haunted them their whole life (nimona is traumatised by the way they have been treated by humans, i don’t think y’all are ready for that discussion but i’ll make it happen)

•’what are you?’ ‘i’m. nimona.’ but with massively different undertones this time round. which then shifts into ballister’s first attempt at genuinely trying to understand, the way his posture shifts and his expression changes when nimona backs off and looks defeated and says ‘everyone hates you too’ because he actually understands that feeling. but he still doesn’t get it, with ‘that THING you do, it’s too much’ ‘can you just be YOU please’. but he sees something there and that is the first instance of change in him.

•’can you just be YOU please? girl you.’ ‘but i’m not a girl.’ - ballister still does not get it, but he’s not aggressive anymore. it’s progress.

��the pure joy that is the carless whisper subway saxophone player. this whole subway scene was so joy-sparking to me. the saxophone, ‘was it a sea otter or a river otter?’, nimona shifting into ballister and going all out crazy with the performance and the accent saying anything cartoonishly evil, ‘i hope you like freestyle jazz!’ ‘he hates freestyle jazz.’

•the return to ballister’s acceptance journey with ‘can you just be normal’ ‘it would be easier if you were a girl’ ‘easier for you, a lot of people aren’t as accepting as me’ - we ALL know that while yes, ballister’s very slow and incomplete acceptance of nimona is leagues better than the rest of the people, he is not entirely meaning it’ll be easier for nimona. HE is still uncomfortable with nimona’s existence and would prefer it for his own sake if they were presenting in a way he’s familiar and comfortable with despite knowing the truth. and then directly after comes nimona’s half-truth backstory when ballister asks about where they came from. we see the truth about nimona’s life in the animals, but they are sanitising their story and making it more pleasant for him to hear only to force him to accept that he’s small minded by telling him outright that he isn’t as great as he thinks.

•the whole car thing spliced with demon baby nimona is incredible and comedic genius.

•nimona not knowing how to deal ballister being worried about him and his injury because to her, that not how it works. on both the front of never having someone care about them AND the fact that they don’t experience things the way humans do (see later in the film when acting as ambrosius, in which nimona gets stabbed through and walks it off) and ballister still not getting that. but the clear progress and development of their relationship in the fact ballister DOES care and openly shows concern

•then learning more about how to not ask about how the shifting works because it’s small minded, but nimona answering anyway (in a sense) because they know he’s genuinely curious now and wants to learn rather than suppress them.

•’how would it feel if you didn’t shapeshift?’ ‘i feel worse when i don’t do it. when i shapeshift i’m free. i’d die. i sure wouldn’t be living.’ - this entire dialogue is so obviously trans-coded. it’s essentially a (very accurate) metaphor for dysphoria, and that is only proven true, not even amplified but it’s just TRUE, by the trans flag in the background.

•nimona as a whole is just an extended metaphor for being trans. trans specifically in a way that is more complicated than being binary trans or even agender. those things are what the majority can understand easy enough, like 1 2 3. this is more complex. it’s possible i’m projecting my own life and experiences here but that’s what media is for isn’t it.

•nimona actually saying outright that the institute brainwashed ballister - he defends ambrosius and their training in general saying he ‘disarmed a weapon’ in which he inadvertently refers to himself as a whole, as a person, as being a weapon. nimona is distant enough that he can recognise the institute is wrong.

•nimona knows the truth about the wall, even saying earlier on ‘so there’s nothing behind the wall’ (that needs protecting from) yet still allows ballister to come to that realisation on his own time. despite the fact it would massively speed up their plan, they let him work it out because that’s what he needs to do. nimona helps, but he knows that this kind of acceptance and essentially the shifting of your worldview is something individual

•’when things go south, i’m breaking stuff.’ ‘that won’t be necessary.’ - another step forward. instead of outright shutting down nimona’s behaviour/instincts, he redirects and somewhat reassured himself more than them that it won’t be needed because he has faith in his boyfriend.

•the painting over of the ‘new era of heroes poster’ - return of classism. the institute, the higher classes, only needed one bad example of a commoner to prove that they’re exactly what they’ve always thought - scum. instead of giving anyone else a chance, they remove any connection to people they consider beneath them at all. if you look at the poster closer, you can see that it’s not even actual commoner children, it’s younger versions of the knights that exist now, most notably ballister at the front and ambrosius directly behind him on the left. it’s false advertising in its most blatant form, they didn’t want to get actual commoner children to pose for a new poster to show the real change, because they don’t want a real change. they wanted to be proven right.

•the director’s very subtle manipulation of ‘you can talk to me.’ - it’s near impossible to see it as manipulation because, despite the reveal she planted the fake sword, she is still within the institute and to ambrosius specifically, a person to trust despite his internal conflict. the director undoubtedly knows he’s torn between ballister and the ‘right thing’ and she wants him firmly on her side. the offhand comment of ‘the blood of gloreth runs through your veins’ solidifies this, it’s a subconscious reminder that he has loyalty to the institute, to her, because of this legacy he didn’t ask for and that if he is going to uphold that it’ll be obvious what he should do.

•ambrosius’ internal breakdown - the buildup to yelling along with everything he says shows the depth of his character. he’s so clearly torn between how he was raised to fill the role of a legacy he never wanted and the institute he’s loyal to and the man he loves, who he chose to love, but ultimately betrayed because of the way he was trained. and to him there is no right option, he either betrays the ones he’s been raised to think are the heroes, or he betrays the one person who sees him as just another person. there’s also that similarity to nimona here. ambrosius recognises in this moment that the institute isn’t quite as perfect as it should be because of how he acted based on the training they gave him, and uses the exact same words of ‘arm-chopping is not a love language’ that nimona uses. because nimona has been aware of the flaws of the institute and the trained behaviour of the humans as a whole, while ambrosius is having a much deeper and more dramatic revelation of this because it’s something personal, he hurt the person he cares about most because of the institute. he can’t see a way out of this without anyone getting hurt, he’s trapped.

•the director literally whispering in ambrosius’ ear like the ‘evil advisor’ trope and then turning that back on nimona with ‘says the miscreant whispering in his ear’ because she is doing everything she can to make sure ambrosius listens to HER, while remaining composed, rather than doing what he feels is right because she knows he’ll turn on her if he knows the full truth. proven further by the way she panicked at the mention of proof.

•additional point about the eye shines - the diamonds are the shape of the pattern all over the director’s outfit . is this a stretch? possibly. but anything goes in media analysis, particularly animation because you gotta be deliberate with that. and with a film this personal to me, anything i say is true.

•ballister’s eye shines in this confrontation are circles btw. just saying. i think ambrosius’ are more rounded rather than full diamonds too in this moment but i won’t lie, it’s too small for me to fully see.

•’who is she, bal? what is she?’ - the breaking point for both of them. ballister refuses to answer because he is defending nimona from people he knows hate them, and that gives ambrosius’ suspicions all the proof he needs to pull his sword on a threat again. any trust ballister still had for him is gone, and he is defeated.

•‘let’s break stuff.’ - the final fucking step let’s GO, it’s the full proof that ballister has accepted nimona as both nimona and her behaviours, he’s gone from denial to preventative to encouraging it. and he takes pride in it now, you can tell from his tone that he wants this as much as nimona does. the entire ‘lets break stuff’ fight scene is again such a joy-sparker. from the music, to the confusion of the knights, to nimona’s manic joy at finally being able to fully express itself with all the freedom he expressed to ballister earlier. the return of the otter question.

•’if it isn’t the golden boy’ - THIS. the one-on-one fight between the boyfriends. ballister using the title he knows ambrosius doesn’t like because ambrosius broke the last bit of faith he had in him. questioning whether he ever meant anything to ambrosius and openly defending nimona being called a monster even when they’re not around to hear it because he truly likes her and wants her to feel safe now. throwing the sword down beside ambrosius’ head with the declaration that ambrosius never knew him, and the knowledge that he genuinely believed ballister was the queen killer despite the fact he was ballister’s biggest supporter.

•also ambrosius’ eye shines are triangles. it’s literally a display of the internal conflict. his loyalty to the director/institute/kingdom is literally cut in half by his conflict in who his alignment is to.

•nimona’s shift into bigger and bigger creatures and even breaking through their restrains - and their conscious choice to both breath cereal rather than fire to prevent destruction and the harm of innocents, and the fact they stop a child being crushed by a car without even thinking because they have NEVER been about attacking people. they have always acted out of defence and self preservation.

•the fact nimona turns into her first child form to comfort the girl she saved. - it’s heartbreaking to me. the form he chose as the one to make her first and only friend being the one they come back to in order to comfort the girl they just saved while the ‘monster attack’ alarm blares in the background. he chose the most defenceless unassuming HUMAN form possible, and the girl still picks up a sword. points it at him, and calls her a monster just like the first time. it’s heartbreaking.

•nimona’s breakdown. - the way they sound so helpless after flipping the table because the anger they felt is truly only heartbreak. the way they’re so angry about how even children are being raised to hate anything different yet they’re the one considered a monster for being inhuman, for wanting a friend. the fact they have suicidal thoughts. because that’s what that is. ‘i don’t know what’s scarier. the fact that everyone wants to run a sword through my heart or that sometimes i just wanna let them.’ that is suicidal thoughts. the lighting of this scene with nimona being under a spotlight in their most vulnerable moment and ballister in the background being shown in that same stream of light because they are both not who people think they are. the way ballister looks at nimona’s confession and his immediate declaration upon hearing they want to let people kill them that they should leave together. and nimona’s hope just upon the word ‘together’ because they have not been anywhere with someone.

•the director openly confessing that she hates and that she framed him because of her own beliefs and systems only to kill ‘ambrosius’ because no one can know the truth. - also the dead giveaway for this not being the real ambrosius is his ‘death’ because we know by now that nimona LOVES overdramatic acting.

•this scene being the first (well second actually, the first being the demon baby) proof that nimona’s pink is a choice. - he shifts to be ambrosius for the plan, and there is no streak of pink in his hair like when nimona was playing ballister in the subway. the pink is entirely a choice on nimona’s part because it’s *fun*, it adds character, its basically a styling thing. and i love that.

•’may gloreth forgive you’ is so COLD. how are you gonna say to gloreth’s direct descendant that you hope she forgives him for his actions and his turning away from the institute knowing the truth about things. knowing exactly why the system that you love is in place. what a bitch.

•the way ballister and nimona have lighthearted banter in the director’s face, which then follows into ballister stepping off the balcony first - nimona follows him after the steps off, but ballister stepped off first and that shows just how much faith he has in him now. i love it.

•the fact that it becomes clear when ambrosius sees ballister’s real sword that the one the director planted is fake. - you can see when the queen hands the sword back, the letter above the hilt is a G (presumably for gloreth, it’s another dig that ballister doesn’t have his own sword, it’s just one the institute handed him because he fights for them). when it lingers on ambrosius looking at the sword and realising the truth, you can see very clearly that the G has been scratched into a B for ballister because he wanted the sword to be his own. i love things like this.

•the fact ballister and nimona are playing a very chaotic monopoly and that ballister lets nimona break the rules and have dramatic fun about it - the way his acceptance is fully shown in the way he just says ‘metal.’ when nimona fully expects him to freak out about the fire.

•CAN A SHARK DANCE. - easily on par with ‘let’s break stuff’ as my top joy-sparking scene, the fact ballister prompts the shift, the way they’re having a dance party, taking selfies, going all out with silly dancing and sunglasses, all while the video wreaks havoc on the status quo in the kingdom because they won

•the way nimona feels safe enough to sleep around ballister - the ‘you’re safe. we’re home’ comment that sends her back to sleep instantly because she genuinely trusts him and believes him when he says they’re safe. the fact that softness is sandwiched between the director holding off her arrest and ambrosius asking to meet up. (and the way ballister still cares enough to mention that there shouldn’t be any olives)

•the director’s defence - a dusty old half rotted scroll that has been in a secret room for A THOUSAND YEARS. something that has been long forgotten by pretty much everyone because it wasn’t necessary or relevant until the director needed it to save her own fucking skin. it’s only half about killing nimona, the other half is about maintaining her power.

•the way ballister is ready to make amends with ambrosius until he says they’re taking down nimona, and he still carries that rooted mistrust that came just before dropping the ‘i love you’ and it brings down all of the safety he built with nimona.

•in that same ‘i love you’ scene - the light again. ambrosius is once again in the single light while ballister stares at him from the darkness. they’re still not on the same side, but this time it’s because that’s how they’re both seeing the moment they’re in.

•ballister ripping down the safety because of one scroll from a thousand years ago. - he rips away the trust, he rips away the safety, he rips away his acceptance of them and he rips away home from nimona. because of a scroll from someone he trusted first that was made by the very people he was actively bringing down a few hours ago.

•the way nimona reacts - the way they egg him into finishing the word he started, that he doesn’t want to say but he almost did. the way they want him to say it because it’ll only confirm that they already believe he never fully accepted them. the way they stop, and ballister’s own face looks shocked, at the fact he started to draw his sword on someone he called a friend. the proof that he broke their trust just like ambrosius broke his because he is still under the institute’s control no matter how much he distances himself from it.

•nimona returning to the well - it’s subconscious, as is the way he reverts back to that entirely human child form. and it turns into the true backstory of how they ran with animals but never fit in, and found the wall and wanted to be with that girl. the way there’s no fear at all as they’re brought into the sunlight and even played with in the village - they’re watched fondly by an adult. because there is nothing monstrous about nimona. they’re a little girl, playing with another little girl. the way there’s no speech, it’s peaceful music and emotion and freedom because there is no need for speech. the fact gloreth’s initial response wasn’t fear but shock because she hadn’t seen something like nimona before. that turned into instant acceptance because it’s cool. the fact the first instance of speech is defence from gloreth, but the second is hate. and that one sentence is enough for gloreth to view nimona differently. the fact nimona only acts with any violence because they’re scared, and the fire in the village is because of the humans own actions. the fact that the famed line from gloreth isn’t a magnificent showdown between woman and monster, but a little girl pointing the sword she played with at her best friend and repeating the hate that the adults taught her.

•this scene is what truly shows that nimona is traumatised - the sight of the well on top of ballister, her friend, ready to draw his sword is what breaks him down. it’s even shown clearly on screen that what we see as a backstory is a genuine flashback to the root of her trauma. it shows us what has made nimona this way and drives the point home that nimona is not a monster.

•the way it fades into the statue of gloreth - the statue that depicts gloreth, pointing the sword at ‘gloreth’s monster’, as a grown woman representing what the people have built her and her story into, while nimona remains in that human child form and it shows exactly what is about to happen. nimona, gloreth’s sword pointing directly at them, vulnerable and broken down and determined to act on what they’ve thought about.

•the fact that nimona’s footsteps shaking the ground cause specifically the mini gloreth statue to fall. there’s symbolism here, figure it out yourselves, it’s obvious isn’t it.

•ambrosius saving a citizen and prioritising their safety over attacking a threat and then being mocked for not being a ‘real knight’ - in reality he is doing what a real knight should do, he is protecting the people from actual danger rather than antagonising something they don’t understand and causing more damage in the process.

•i’ve talked about nimona’s ‘true form’ (as i call it) before (first link). the fact it appears as a hulking creature, something conventionally ‘monstrous’, shadowy and dark. it snarls and growls and roars, it has 10 eyes and is taller than the buildings themselves, it is everything that should be feared. if you call something a monster enough, that’s what it’ll become. but the fires in the city aren’t because of nimona. they’re the city’s own attacks. nimona hasn’t attacked once. there’s damage done, but it isn’t deliberate. even when there’s a knight directly in its face, it only roars because that isn’t why it’s here.

•ballister’s guilt at seeing nimona, both in their true form and being attacked, and recognising that it’s his own fault for driving them away.

•nimona’s first and only direct attack on the city is ripping down a billboard that promotes children killing monsters. because that’s personal.

•ambrosius once again questioning his allegiance and finally proving his true loyalty - the forced acknowledgment that the director knows the damage she will cause at the expense of killing the ‘monster’ but doesn’t care, because she doesn’t care about the people, or the true meaning of protecting the city and it’s people. she cares about killing monsters.

•returning to nimona’s true form as being a huge shadowy creature - it’s clear in the transformation and in these scenes of her walking, the darkness is protecting her. all of the shadows are wrapped around a pure bright light. his heart. it comes back to my earlier point about character design, how nimona’s humanoid form is rounded and soft, despite additional spiky parts and the off-putting demeanour because that’s the truth about them. they’ve only ever been protecting themself. that’s all it’s ever been.

•the repeat of nimona’s ‘sword through my heart’ line from the breakdown. - the fact this whole time they entered the city this way specifically to reach gloreth’s sword and finish what the humans started, what they want. the fact the loss of their only friend in the same way they lost their first drove them to suicide. the way she wails as she bares her heart to the sword before it even touches, because that scream isn’t about a sword through the heart. it’s about the emotional pain. it’s about the way they have no one. the way they have nothing left. the way their friend, their safety, their home, was ruined. it’s the way this is their only way out.

•ballister on the sword - he touches nimona’s heart with his prosthetic hand. the hand he lost to the institute like nimona lost everything. the deepest level of connection built by a shared pain and loss. the fact he looks up at nimona in their true form and doesn’t flinch away, doesn’t fear them, but apologises. says he sees them. that they’re not alone. and he means it. and that nimona comes back to humanoid form, body taking on the injuries the shadows didn’t show, and collapses. not into ballister’s arms, but he catches her anyway. because he’s there for nimona.

•the director’s refusal to listen to reason. the way she growls ‘go back to the shadows from whence you came.’ the director’s whole performance is chilling.

•nimona’s return to their ‘normal’ state upon the truest acceptance from ballister, and the fact they specifically became a phoenix (just like he said at the beginning when ‘planning’ with ballister) to end the director’s plan, and in the process breaks the wall to show that the outside is magnificent.

•the way nimona’s sparkle after dying fade out before it can reach ballister’s hand. that in particular is really special to me. something about how ballister feels guilty still even after nimona has forgiven him and now he can’t reach them. almost a ‘too little too late’ thing, except that’s not true in this case. but ballistae’s chance to truly make things right after it’s all over is gone.

•ballister keeping his original, self made arm after the kingdom’s reconstruction and improvement despite the fact he could definitely have a new one.

•the way the city honours nimona’s sacrifice - the huge wall of tributes and gifts, the art, the flowers, the mural. compared to ballister’s quiet grief in how he’s shown returning to their home and seeing the monopoly game, putting the dog piece back in place, hanging the weapons back up and pulling the curtains down because they don’t need to hide in their home. the way he lights up when he hears the banging on the door because even though nimona only knocked once when they first met, he knows that’s how they knock. and the fact it has a happy ending, even if we probably don’t get a sequel, it’s still so comforting to know that nimona’s choice of a phoenix was for a reason. because they rise from the ashes.

#nimona #nimona thoughts #nimona 2023 #nimona the movie #nimona analysis #v rambles #ritz thoughts

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aphroditestummyrolls · 2 months

Note

If you're still playing - spare prayer or proposal (I'm so predictable) ❤️

HELLO MY FRIEND ❤️

His long legs stepped fast, and Inej grabbed his hand to slow him the slightest bit. He was nervous. It was plain to see. Jesper had never been good at hiding his feelings— they bubbled to the surface like frothing champagne, whether they’re happy or sad, angry or frightened. Whether or not he was masking one feeling with another, it was always clear to Inej.

She knew him too well.

And he knew her too well, too. Well enough to not bother trying to mask anymore. His smile was tight at the corners as he tugged her down a side corridor. She squeezed reassuringly at his fingers.

What in the name of all the Saints was going on?

The room they stepped into was all stark white walls and rich hardwood. The windows were expansive— if the sun hadn’t set hours ago, there would be a lovely view looking over the gardens. Hanraat Bay sparkled in the distance. The city was lit up streetlamp orange and steeped in smog, just as it had always been.

It was lovely, if a bit clinical. There wasn’t a speck of colour in the whole room, and Inej felt a prickle of anxiety that they both still held their half full wine glasses. Jesper, though, didn’t seem to care at all.

He was utterly at home in the space— turning up the gas lamps, setting his glass on the desk with no coaster or covering, digging around in the bottom of a side drawer. He was bouncing ever so slightly on his toes.

It set something at ease in her chest. It was excitement— Jesper might seem out of sorts, but he wasn’t lying. It truly wasn’t bad.

“Jes?”

“It’s my workshop— Wylan had it set up for me to practise, and meet with my grisha tutor here.” He exclaimed triumphantly, finally holding up what he’d been looking for. It was a tiny pewter key. “It’s all a bit hush-hush, but he wanted me to be able to train it if I wanted.”

“It’s awfully plain.”

He grinned. “Not by choice, I promise. It’s to make transferring colours easier. It’s a pain in the ass to learn— so much easier to bleach something colourful, than the other way round.”

Beckoning her with an eager wave, he pulled a trinket box from the back of the desk, and inserted his hard-won key.

It opened with a click.

In the box, with Jesper holding his breath beside her, Inej peered in to see…

“I thought we were crows, not magpies.”

“Crows collect shiny objects as much as any other corvid.” Jes feigned offence, but he was practically vibrating. “I’ve been using anything I can get to practise on… don’t tell anybody, ‘Nej. This box has to stay secret. For now.”

The velvet lining of the lacquer box was almost inscrutable from the piles and piles of metal fragments inside. All of them were richly engraved with flowers and filigree, each one more beautiful than the last. Some were just pieces and parts of sheet metal, probably from proper practise with his tutor. But, others were more discernible. Keys, spoons, coins… rings.

“Did you do all this engraving?”

Her friend nodded, making an affirmative hum into his wine.

Everything slid into place in her mind so suddenly, she felt stupid for having missed it.

There were so many rings.

“Jesper Fahey, are you—“

“I’ve never been so happy, ‘Nej. I promise. I… it scares the Hell out of me.”

Thanks for playing ❤️❤️❤️

#six of crows #wesper #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #inej ghafa

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erina-writes-headcanons · 2 years

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hello it's me again! this time I would like to ask for something with haikyuu characters; osamu miya, tobio kageyama and kenma kozume who's s/o, who is really very romantic and emotional (e.g. their s/o loves to cuddle, make them food, buy gifts, spend time on training with them). their s/o just uses the five love languages and they really love it although it's hard for them to show it… thank you so much again! take your time, 💗

Kageyama Tobio, Osamu Miya and Kozume Kenma with Romantic and Caring S/O

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A/N: AAAA!!!!!!!! This request is so cute! Thank you again @pillow-anime-infos for requesting again! I am really sorry for not answering your ask in a long time. Anyway, I hope you like the result!

Gender: Neutral

Warning: None

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Kageyama Tobio

Kageyama even though he likes to be angry, especially to Hinata who often teases him and receives his 'BOKE! HINATA BOKE!'. He is actually rather shy around you.

Even if you tease him he would not scream loudly '(Y/N) BOKE!' like he does to Hinata. However, he would look away with red cheeks and mutter that you are a 'Boke'.

Yes, you can see that Kageyama is a huge piece of 'Tsundere' but he is secretly very thankful that he has a loving s/o who likes to cook for him, buy him gifts, and spoil him.

When you were being romantic, he would gaze at the ground as if the floor is more interesting than you but rest assured, He is just trying to hide his red face.

I can see he also tries to pay back for your romantic gestures but he's not really good at it so the most romantic payback he would do for you is buying volleyball merch for you.

If you spend your time with him by playing volleyball together with him. I can see he would truly appreciate it and love it. Sometimes, he would even invite you to play volleyball together with him

However, I don't think you can show PDA when he is around his teammate because I can see he would feel a little bit uncomfortable by it and yes the salty beanpole moon salt going to tease him about it.

In conclusion, he actually loves it and is very grateful when you are caring and romantic around him but he is just shy about it. Since he doesn't know how to show that he is thankful, he would end up being those 'tsundere' trope.

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It was after school and many guys in the gym are practising volleyball together, especially the 'duo crazy' Hinata Shoyo and Kageyama Tobio. Well, it's more like Kageyama screaming 'BOKE HINATA BOKE!' when the tangerine did not receive his set by forgetting to hit the ball.

A loud footstep could be heard from outside of the sliding door but no one pays attention to it because they are focused on the upcoming volleyball tournament. As the door was slid open, several pairs of eyes glanced at the person who just entered the gym. They/she/he has (H/C) coloured hair and a pair of (E/c) eye colours and a small yet stunning and gentle smile.

"Hey guys," you greet everyone.

"Good afternoon, (Y/N)-san. Are you searching for your boyfriend?" Sugawara strutted up at you.

"Ah yes, I am searching for him. I wanna give this to him," you show a small bag that had two Bentos with one of them having octodogs and a small cup of yoghurt inside of it for your boyfriend. "Sure! You can go inside and give it to him," Sugawara steps aside, letting you get inside to meet Kageyama.

Upon hearing your footsteps, Kageyama takes a glance at you in your uniform along with your friendly smile and the bento box. He did not know that you are giving him a surprise, "Hey (Y/N)-san, why do you have two bento?" he tilts his head to the side like a curious puppy.

"Pfft, it's for you, silly. I made Bentos for the two of us," you show the inside of the lunch box. There are tamagoyaki, octofogs, and rice along with a cup of blueberry yoghurt for him. Seeing what's inside, his cheeks were tinted pink before he was stuttering in embarrassment.

"A-arigato, (Y/N)-san."

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❀

Osamu Miya

Unlike Kageyama, Osamu Miya has more emotional intelligence than Kageyama and he would be less likely to scream at you because of embarrassment.

However, that does not mean that he does not love you and he can hide it when he is actually embarrassed because you were being affectionate around him.

Just like Kageyama, he is actually as grateful as him for having a romantic and affectionate S/O. He doesn't show it but if you are observant, you would definitely know it.

Osamu enjoys cuddling with you but I don't think he enjoys a PDA. He prefers cuddling with you at home, when no one is looking at the two of you.

Osamu also enjoys it when you make food for him even if it's not a five-star level kind of meal. He has huge respect for those who try to make food for him, especially if it was made by you.

I can see he also likes the gift that you gave to him, even if it's just a small keychain. However, I do see he does secretly feel bad that you often spoil him so he would like to search any kind of way to spoil you back.

Osamu also appreciate it if you spend your time together with him in the kitchen making food together. He would likely goes up behind you and teach you to cook while he also hugs you from behind.

In conclusion, Osamu is more romantic and less embarrassed than Kageyama. He would be only blushing at the start of the relationship but for a longer relationship, he would enjoy these things.

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The sounds of the alarm clock on top of the nightstand still ticking, not bothering the person who are still sleeping until the long stick of the clock points at the number of twelve before it rings, deafening the whole room with its annoying sound. The loud ring on the alarm immediately woke you up, making you grumble in annoyance and shutting off the clock by pressing the button.

Moving away from the bed, your feet slide inside of the bunny slippers and rub your eyes to make the sleepiness goes away. A delicious smell in filtering the whole room along with the sizzling sound from the kitchen, making your stomach growl in hunger. The corner of your lips twitched upwards before your hands held the knob of the door and twisted it open before going outside of the bedroom.

Following the trace of the sweet aroma from the kitchen, your eyes notice your boyfriend standing there with an apron on him. It was cute because the apron was a gift from you in April Mop with a word 'Kiss the cook' as the joke. Nonetheless, he still wears it when making breakfast.

"Good morning, Osamu~" You hug Osamu from behind, wrapping your arms around him.

"Good morning, (Y/N)-chan/san," Osamu smiles, turning off the stove before turning around and kissing the top of your head while wrapping his arm around your waist.

"What did you make, Osamu?" You blushes softly, feeling his lips lingering on the skin of your forehead.

"I made pancakes for us since everyday you always make breakfast. This time, I want to make pancakes for us," he admits.

"It smells nice," you giggle softly, flattered by his sweet gesture.

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❀

Kozume Kenma

Kenma likes a S/O who is affectionate and Romantic but he doesn't like when they are suffocating. I mean S/O that are too clingy by trying to take his attention away from his PSP too often.

However, he appreciates a S/O who would spend their time together with him by playing games together, especially RPG games because I believe he likes RPG, Action and adventure games.

I can see Kenma also likes S/O who can bake his favourite dessert, Apple pie. If you can make apple pie for him, he would be even more affectionate than before.

I can see he hates PDA, especially if Yamamoto, Lev and Kuroo sees it. He knows the three of them would tease him relentlessly, especially Kuroo and Lev.

Because of that, he prefers cuddles when it's the night before going to sleep. He would let you become the big spoon because he loves the comforting sensation when you two are cuddling.

Kenma would be likely cuddling with you when he is in his hoodie to make himself warm. Of course, this is only during fall or winter and sometimes he would let you borrow his hoodie too.

As his S/O, you need to know what he really likes and what kind of games he's currently interested in. Not because he is ungrateful but rather he would show a cute expression when he is excited, especially if it was a gift from you.

Kenma does enjoy your romantic gestures a lot and like Osamu. He would be only embarrassed and getting shy when it was the start of the relationship but as time goes by. He would reciprocate your romantic gestures back but in his version.

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Lately, the setter of Nekoma would be even more silent than before and he was even cursing a lot more when he was gaming. Of course, as his S/O you know the reason why he's gotten into a worse mood than before. It was simple, he looses in a big gaming competition and because of that, many haters were making fun of the way of him gaming.

You couldn't stand to see your boyfriend like this, it was really heartbreaking for you to see him like this. The gears in your brain were turning slowly until an idea popped into your brain, you had an idea to cheer your boyfriend up before the footsteps disappears, leaving kenma to have some space for a moment.

↠ Timeskip ↞

The middle of your shirt had lots of white powder stains on it along with a light brown smudge on your shirt. On the table, there is a box with a cover of an RPG game that Kenma has been waiting. It was your lucky day to find it in your nearest game store because tons of people buy it.

Taking a plate of apple pie along with the new game box, you were trudging to your boyfriend's room carefully without dropping the two objects in your hand before knocking on the door, "Kenma-san. Can I talk with you for a moment," you hope he would let you in.

"Leave me alone, (Y/N)-san," Kenma spoke from the other side.

As his S/O you don't have any intention to give up to cheer Kenma before barging up to his room. Kenma was surprised to hear the sound of the door slamming open as his eyes squinted at you, it was clear that he is really annoyed. However, as his eyes sees the apple pie and the new game on your hand, his eyes softened before he pushes himself from the chair.

"I hope you're hungry. I made app-" your eyes widened when you can feel his arms wrapped around your waist.

"I'm sorry for being rude....." he mumbles.

"Hehe, it's okay, Kenma-san. I know you're just in a foul mood. That's why I want you to be happy so I buy a new game that you have been waiting for and baked you an apple pie. Now, could you please let me go for a moment? I don't want to drop the pie and the game," you smiled awkwardly even though you want to hug him back real bad.

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❀

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kpchrs · 2 months

Text

15 questions for 15 friends

Thanks @burntblueberrywaffles and @realmermaid333 for tagging me weeks ago.

Are you named after anyone?

Nope.

When was the last time you cried?

Uhhh... Whatever days ago, I think, over a fanfiction HAHAHA

Do you have kids?

Nope. I don't know if I want to or not. I definitely wanna nurture one tho, and they don't necessarily have to be my own, if that makes sense.

What sports do you play/have you played?

I don't like sports, but I like badminton because it's a childhood game.

Do you use sarcasm?

Less than I should. I don't know why.

What's the first thing you notice about people?

I'm very disinterested in strangers when I really don't wanna socialise, so I don't really look at people, but maybe the voice since I can never ignore that.

What's your eye colour?

Brown. I love the colour brown!

Scary movies or happy endings?

That's a weird 'this and that' cus it's pretty different, but happy endings of course. I like scary films but only for the thrill not the story, cus the story usually doesn't intrigue me that much.

Any talents?

Hate that word, "talent", because it's a confusing word. Do you mean talent as in the natural aptitude of a person? In that definition, I think I'm pretty talented. I was one of the high achievers because I have a natural aptitude for studying. I know how to study and I comprehend things better than other kids. I'm a fast learner. My intuition is great. I can retain information well. I analyse things well. I'm lazy and easy to get bored tho, and that's why I was one of the high achievers. Related to that I would put languages as my talents. I'm pretty natural with it; English, Mandarin, Japanese, Korean... I absorb them as I go naturally. I learn English by myself. I remember most of what I learned from random medias. But because I never apply them (except for English), I'm not fluent at all. My piano teacher said I had a musical talent, and I did win a few piano competitions, and I passed Grade 8 ABRSM, but that's SO mediocre in the classical music world, I don't really think it counts. I have not even practised for years. I actually think I'm more natural at singing, but I never received formal training. And I'm sure there are more. These are pretty "eh", ain't it, because it stops at that?

If you mean talent as in skills, then my biggest skill is literature and story-telling. It's also one of my few passions. I don't say "writing" because that's still hard to do (especially if it's in English, it's not my native language), but I do learn in my own time, I know lots about it, and I still wanna learn more. This also applies to English. What's more? I'm pretty good at cooking, I guess. I'm not a master chef, but I can cook you dishes, definitely. The only thing that prevents me from cooking more is my lack of money. This is a soft skill, but I would put "organising" too. I love organising and I'm natural at it.

For me, talents should pair with effort and practice. People should strive to have more skills if they have the means! Because of that, I much prefer asking people what are their passions and I kinda dislike complimenting people with "you are so talented!" because nah, they practise a lot behind the screen and you just never see it! ...Wait a minute, what am I doing, writing a self-development book? 💀 This is supposed to be a fun thing. Uhhh...sorry, I really dislike the word "talent" xD

Where were you born?

I don't like saying it on the internet lol

What are your hobbies?

Reading stories (currently it's fanfiction), listening to music, window shopping, watching films and shows, playing games, relaxing in cafes, and eating. This is just random, but the happiest moments I can remember were when I first watched TBOSAS in the cinema and when I infodump my friend LiS on Discord in a cafe. Those are like last year and I want to feel that again.

Do you have any pets?

Yes, I have a dog and she's a supermutt and she's a rascal and her name is Marie and she's the reason why my pain tolerance is great.

How tall are you?

158cm. I should have been a little bit taller, but I think because of scoliosis, nah lol

Favourite subject in school?

None. School subjects were pretty boring... Okay, maybe English. I also liked Modern History.

Dream job?

I'm not good with high-stress and high-paced jobs. I'd love to be a librarian, but libraries are not appreciated at all here. Or I'd love to be a game writer too, with teams and a writer room, as such. I don't really know how it works. Some kind of game developer, but not the programming. Or I'd love to help people, especially kids, in whatever way.

No pressure + random tagging: @mitsuki91, @weer02, @-- uhhhh you know what, I'm BEYOND lazy to tag 15 people. Tag whoever who wants to play this! Or these two people I already tagged can tag the people I could have tagged xD

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just-a-torn-up-masterpiece · 2 years

Text

your eyes look like coming home - N.R.

masterlists

(Part of my Red (Taylor's Version) fics)

Song - Everything has changed

Pairing - Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary - Snapshots of your's and Natasha's relationship, how her eyes remind you of everything good.

Warnings - mostly fluff with some angst 👀

Word Count - 2746

You’d always liked the colour green; the blades of grass of a meadow on a calm summer’s day with the pale blue skies above and nothing but the soft sound of the birds. The leaves of your favourite tree, seeking solace in its shade. The pale shade of the spiky cactus that sat alone on your windowsill, the team’s housewarming gift for you when you joined, still perky in its place. You loved to admire the mini garden Wanda tended to, delicate leaves and vines, fresh tomatoes and herbs.

You always loved the colour green but you’d never loved it quite as much as you did when you looked into Natasha’s eyes, emerald irises gazing into yours with adoration, never failing to disturb the butterflies in your stomach even after all these years.

In the bright rays of the sun you could see every lighter speck shining, like small droplets of rain balancing atop a fig leaf, the translucent domes showing each detail of the life beneath. She’d shield her eyes to look at you, squinting against the sunlight as she smiled that perfect smile and wrapped her arm around your waist with a peck to your cheek.

And in the darkness, grey clouds looming and heavy rain pattering against the window, the green of her eyes was deep. Like moss sprouting in the cracks in cement. The yellowed glow of the lamplight would reflect in her eyes whilst she’d snuggle into you beneath the covers, just you and her in one another’s company enjoying the dulcet sounds of rain against glass.

“Hm, I’ve always liked purple.” She’d hummed with a smirk, watching the amethyst glow pass over your eyes once she’d pulled away from your lips. She’d caught you off guard, finally closing the space between you after mutually pining for far too long and smiled at your stunned expression. You weren’t particularly skilled with your powers at that point with them often being set off at times of high emotion and she knew just that - she just loved how beautiful they looked.

“I think purple and green look pretty good together.” You breathed out with a smile, happy to return the kiss she leaned in for. And it was true, a delicate combination of purple and green - a field of lavender, plants swaying in the wind, or the soft rounded petals of a pansy against its stem.

—

It was just an ordinary day when Natasha realised, glancing over to you from where she was training at the punching bag, watching the purple tendrils swirl from your fingertips as you practised with Wanda. She smiled as you laughed, watching in awe at the way the colour floated through the room, the look of concentration on your face as you controlled its path.

Never before had she let somebody see her the way you do, truly see her. Never before did she think she’d ever let anybody in, to feel this way - it is for children after all, that’s what she was always told. And yet there you were, this shining light with all the warmth in your hold - arms that feel like home.

She thought back to how just that morning the kiss you pressed to her cheek felt so perfect, like the flames of a million candles tickling her skin. And the way the goosebumps rose across the flesh of her arm where your fingers brushed across in passing. She thought of how you’d always light up when your gaze landed on her, how you’d always glance at her first when everyone laughed at a funny scene on the TV - she always looked to you too, just to see you smile.

She thought of you and she was sure.

She was sure because of the way she felt at the sound of your laugh, of your humming along to the music playing in the kitchen as you swayed your hips and how you’d make her jump around with you to the beat. She was sure because even just the mere sight of you curled up with a book made her heart soar and the sparks ignited across her palm as you’d entwine your fingers with hers when she sat to do the same; mindless stroking of your thumb over her knuckles as you both flicked through pages. She was more sure of this than anything, it felt right.

So later that evening she took a shaking breath, her nails mindlessly picking at a thread of a blanket and her foot tapping on the ground from where she sat on the edge of your shared bed. She ran the words through her mind over and over, mumbling them under her breath in search of the perfect combination.

“Hey, you okay?” You asked, walking into the room to find her deep in thought.

“Mhm, perfect.” She smiled with a nod, a pensive look in her eyes. “I actually have something to say.” She added, swallowing thickly as she held her hand out to you to pull you into a seat beside her.

“Okay.” You returned, your fingers being fiddled with by hers.

“You make me happy, so so happy - happier than I ever thought I could be.” She muttered out, clearing her throat. “I - you’re just so perfect and I - gosh this is ridiculously hard.” She groaned, huffing out a small laugh as she shook her head and looked into her lap.

“It’s alright love, take your time.” You reassured her as you gave her hand a squeeze.

“I feel - I just. I was always told it was for children, you know? I never thought I’d have something like this - something so…so magic. And I am so so glad to have you, I- it’s - God. Could you just look in here?” She sheepishly questioned, her cheeks blushed pink as she tapped her temple with her finger. “Just look, please.”

“Okay.”

Her emerald eyes stared into yours as the purple swirled, your fingers touching the side of her head as the tendrils spun. You saw the way she saw you, this ray of sunshine brightening up her dull world, how she can’t help but smile at the sight of you. You saw who you were to her, how sure she was of this overwhelming feeling in her chest. And you were sure as well.

She looked nervously as the glowing stopped and the wide grin curled your lips upwards, she couldn’t help but mirror the expression.

“I love you too, Nat. So much - more than anything.”

“Oh thank God.” She sighed before leaning forwards to press a kiss to your lips, leaving an eager pathway of pecks over your cheeks and your jaw and your neck until she rested her chin on your shoulder and pulled you into a hug. “I love you.” She whispered, her lips grazing over your skin. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” She repeated loudly, beaming at the giggle falling from your lips. “I can’t believe I was scared to say it, it feels so good. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You laughed.

—

You felt her eyes on you before you saw her, staring from across the room as you were both dragged in different directions by various partygoers. It was hard to focus on the words being spoken to you from the way she smirked at you, hips swaying as she sashayed her way through the crowded room, hand cupping her martini glass.

Her hand landed itself on your waist as she sidled up beside you, the scent of her perfume smelling like amber and figs wafted to your nose and her lips left a glittering lip gloss mark where she kissed your cheek.

She waved Tony over to take over the boring conversation much to his chagrin and yanked you away with a laugh, twirling you round as you joined the crowd of dancers, pulling your back into her. Her hands roamed your waist as she guided the movement of your hips in time with hers, bodies pressed together dancing to the vibrations of the heavy bass.

She spun you back to face her with ease, looking at you with a smile. In the light you couldn’t see the mesmerising hues of green, only the bright reflections of the lights flashing overhead. Glows of red and blue, yellow and orange, coloured the whites of her eyes, the ones that looked to you with love and something else.

“I missed you.” She muttered, grabbing onto your waist.

“I know, those ten minutes apart were dreadfully painful.” You teased, laughing with a faux gasp of pain at the small punch she landed on your arm.

“Shut up.” She huffed, smiling into a kiss with her hand pulling you into her by the back of your head, fingers stroking through your hair. When she pulled back you could see how her eyes had darkened slightly, glazed over with a lustful tint and her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

It wasn’t long before the pair of you were stumbling through your bedroom door in a haze, desperate kisses and roaming hands.

Her eyes held contact with yours as she undressed, as she crawled over to you and as she pulled her favourite sounds from the back of your throat. And yours stared back into hers, both holding gazes full of love and trust, nobody else you’d rather look at.

—

It was morning and you stirred awake to the soft twittering of the birds perched in the tree outside your window and the sunlight swimming through the curtains. The duvet hugged your body, linen smelling of freshly cut daisies and Natasha’s rose body lotion. Today was going to be a good day, your belly swirled with excitement.

You turned your head to look at the warm body beside you only to find those perfect green eyes already intensely focused on you.

“Fuck, you’re so creepy.” You laughed, rolling over to face her, revelling in the soft touch of her thumb stroking over the skin of your waist.

“I’m just excited - you’ve been snoring for ages.” She huffed, rolling her eyes with a bright smile. It made them sparkle even more, the dazzling twinkling in the bright rays of the sun showing each fleck of detail.

“Have not.”

“Have too.”

“Have not.”

“Have t-”

“Can you two shut up - you need to get ready!” Wanda interrupted with a shout through the door.

“You ready for this?” You smiled, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“Mhm, the first day of the rest of our lives.”

She couldn’t help the tears that pooled in her eyes as she watched you approach where she stood waiting at the end of the aisle, your arm looped with Wanda’s as she stepped with you.

It was those eyes, those precious eyes like tumbled sea glass, that made everything make sense. Those eyes that held nothing but love and sincerity, that made you feel safe. The warmth of her gaze never wavered, she couldn't help but stare the whole day, as you danced with your friends, as you danced with her, as you smiled and laughed at her quips until you couldn’t breathe.

It was the day to mark the beginning of the rest of your lives together, the most perfect and faultless day full of memories you’d cherish forever. And though neither of you ever had before, you were really starting to believe you’d finally get your happily ever after in the end.

—

Natasha looked off into the distance with a sigh and couldn’t stop thinking of you, everything she could see reminded her of you, her sacred love, and it hurt her heart more than she could’ve imagined.

Her fingers twiddled with the braid you’d put in her hair earlier that day, fingertips running over the soft bumps. It smelled like you, she used your shampoo last night - coconut and shea. She didn’t want to believe that this was it, the bitter twisting to the end of this happy ever after you were well on your way to.

But what else should she expect, nothing ever did come easily to the two of you.

It was ironic. she thought, that this would be her last slice of you and she was trying to savour each and every last crumb. She could imagine you loving this view, pulling her into frame to snap a photo of the sight, making her blush with a peck to her cheek. Everything surrounding her looked like you, felt like you and it only ached her soul.

Shaky hands swiped the rolling tear from her cheek before she made her way to Clint.

“I need you to show her.” She stuttered out, her voice cracking slightly from the tears burning her throat. “I need you to let her see, let her in to see me. Please.”

Natasha always did love purple, she just never thought the last time she’d see it would be in the sky.

‘See you in a minute’ she’d said and yet Clint returned alone. You couldn’t describe the sinking, crushing feeling weighing on your chest at the sight, no matter how hard you tried. A piece of you had died, her soul was yours and yours was hers and it had just withered into a rotted mess.

His face was contorted into solemnity as he approached your stunned form, just a silent tap to his temple as the tears began to drip from your eyes. You climbed inside his mind to see what he saw, what she wanted you to see - her beautiful green eyes, whites hued pink from her tears and the purple skies behind her.

“Darling, I need you to know that I love you. I love you so so much, I have loved you with everything that I am and will never stop.” She started, pausing to take a breath and wipe her cheeks from tears. “I know we’ll see each other again when the time comes and I’ll be waiting for you. But for now, let me go. It’s okay, it’ll be okay - let me go and I’ll be here until we can begin our time again. Just let me go, my love, I’ll still be with you. I love you forever.”

You pulled away with streaming tears coating your cheeks, barely succeeding at muffling your sobs in the palm of your hand. You were lost and empty without her, you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t truly live. How could you without your soul? The best part of you was her and she was gone, how could you ever let her go?

—

And so here you were a few weeks later, limbs haphazardly splayed out as a cough spluttered blood over your lips with a metallic taste. It was reckless, you knew, you were much better a fighter than this. It was easily avoidable but you were barely alive, what’s one more push to the other side?

Your breathing grew laboured, wheezing lungs starving for oxygen and more blood pooled around you than there should be if there’s any chance to survive. The bright green leaves of the tree towering above you rustled in the breeze, your cracking lips curved into as much of a smile they could muster at the sight.

You never really thought red was your colour but it seemed fitting, this twisted end, just a tormenting reminder of the amount you’d spilled throughout your days. Your eyes grew heavier and heavier, chest barely rising and falling in breath. Your vision grew darker and darker and you were sure you heard Natasha’s voice, you smiled to yourself at the mere thought of her before your eyes were forced shut.

The next time they opened again they were met with green, those flawless emerald eyes gazing into yours, a soft smile gracing her lips.

“Nat?” You uttered, stumbling at the force of the hug she yanked you into, wrapping your arms around each other as tightly as possible.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” She repeated beside your ear and though she wasn’t happy about what this meant, it felt right to have you back in her arms.

“I love you too.” You smiled, bringing her lips to yours in a teary kiss before taking another peak at those eyes you adored so much again.

And when you looked into her eyes again, you were home. Purple and green always did look good together after all.

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