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#if romantically - they don't have enough time to heal to get over that kind of hurdle. They've just never asked for help in all the years
ruporas · 1 year
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can’t talk about it
[ID: Black and white comic of Vash and Wolfwood from Trigun Maximum. The comic starts with the sounds "thud, thud, click". Vash, mid-action of peeling an apple, turns to the sound, noticing who it was that entered, and says, "Oh, Wolfwood, you're back." He resumes back to his apple in the next panel as he speaks, "Where'd you go? You snuck out of bed quickly this morning..." Wolfwood's hand then enters the panel, hovering over Vash's cheek and Vash looks up as Wolfwood asks, "Can I?" Vash responds, "Not going to talk about it?" while using a hand to gently hold Wolfwood's hovering hand and presses a kiss to his inner palm.
Vash then gets up fully, setting down the knife down on the table and the apple onto a plate, He leans into Wolfwood as Wolfwood explains, "Had to meet someone. Nothing interesting to talk about." Vash kisses Wolfwood's left cheek and a hand moves to cup his other cheek while muttering, "You're being vague." Wolfwood says neutrally, "If yer really that curious, keep askin'. We  can talk about that instead of doing this." Vash leans back and responds, "Let's talk after, since... You look so tired."
The panel pans to a close up of Wolfwood's downcast eyes, bags heavy underneath his eyes. He doesn't allow Vash to sit in that moment for long though, then saying, "Yer not helping, Spikey. Being all slow with it... I could fall asleep right now." He moves his hand to start unclasping Vash's coat, starting from his collar. Vash with red cheeks, responds briskly, "Oh, shut up. I'm worried about you. I can't be worried?"
The final shot shows Wolfwood's back to the viewer while Vash's softened expression can be seen as he holds gently onto the side of Wolfwood's face and a hand firm on his waist. Wolfwood responds, "I'm fine, seriously," pausing for a moment before continuing, "Is it okay to still..?" Vash responds, "Yeah, it's okay."
The next image is a shot from later that night after the previous comic. Vash and Wolfwood are now in bed, half naked. Wolfwood's buries his face into Vash's chest, his arms wrapped around him, while Vash is petting at his hair. Vash reminds him, "Hey. You said we'd talk about it." Wolfwood pauses for a moment before piping up, "In the morning? I'm sleepy." Vash says, "Okay..."
The next two pages start from the morning after. Wolfwood is already fully awake, pulling on his outer jacket as he says to Vash, whos' still bundled in his blankets, "Breakfast is on the table. Make sure to eat it. I'm going to grab some things in town and then we're leavin'. Got it?" Vash says, "Mh." Wolfwood responds, "Good. See ya in a bit." The dialogue starts to shift into Vash's inner thoughts now, as he gets up and eats toast, thinking, "Wait. Weren't we supposed to... talk about it?" The next shot then shows him fully up, meeting Wolfwood in town. He carries a half worried expression with him while Wolfwood slides on his glasses for him. A quick panel shows Wolfwood's tired expression from the night before and quickly juxtaposes with Wolfwood in front of him who's smiling gently, the shades covering his eye bags. Wolfwood asks him, "Still not awake yet?" Vash pauses, his thoughts stirring, thinking, "Oh. I guess I was getting ahead of myself... thinking you owe me that kind of honesty." He smiles at Wolfwood and responds, "I'm awake!" His thoughts continue, "Maybe one day, you'd trust me enough to share your burdens."
The final image shows Wolfwood pulling at Vash's cheek and Vash complains, "Owwwww why..." Wolfwood quickly says, "You were thinking something stupid, right? It's all over yer face." Vash mutters, "Nooo, I wasn't..." END ID]
#vashwood#trigun#trigun maximum#vash the stampede#nicholas d wolfwood#Theyre both thoroughly exhausted tired individuals -- vash having to fight this lonely battle for over a hundred years and getting dragged#back into inevitable situation with knives after a 2 years hiatus of being a gunslinger. they both need so much Rest and comfort in this#department... .SIGHS. BUT I JUST THINK ABOUT WOLFWOOD . AND HOW... LITTLE He has existed on no man's land. how majority of his years being#alive is being used as a weapon and to kill when him at his very core is the most giving and selfless individual ever#badlands rumble inspired me a bit but i do think wolfwood gets dragged into occasional tasks from the eye of michael while on his duty of#guiding vash -- or i think that one chapter where we got to see other members of eom -- there's like a clear division within the eom too#i think.... so i figured similarly to vash but not to the same amount -- there are people that look for wolfwood too. but most of the time#it's probably wolfwood that has to look for someone else and take them out. i feel like it happens ever so occasionally.#evidentially these two don't talk enough canonically but they always know how to express things properly to affirm that they're okay#they have the worst time ever sharing burdens - can't willingly burden the other and has neeever asked for help or reprieve in their#desperate situations... vw is a huge case of right person wrong time syndrome so they just. in the time they get to spend together -- even#if romantically - they don't have enough time to heal to get over that kind of hurdle. They've just never asked for help in all the years#they've been alive -- they don't even know how to and its just aughhhsgskg#and well! they don't even need to ask! because they'll be there for each other anyway at the end of the day -- company and presence alone.#ruporas art
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inkskinned · 5 months
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the problem is that being single is seen as the consolidation prize, and not the natural neutral state of being-a-person. at the end of the movie or the book or the poetry, there is a person waiting for you at the altar, and they love you. if the play is a comedy, everyone gets married. the metaphor is about how you are not-whole. the metaphor is about how everyone is going to be happily-ever-after. the metaphor is that romantic love is the most important resource on the planet, not just all-love. all-love is not a thing, that is a disappointment. the treasure is not the friends we made along the way. the treasure is the girl you landed.
the metaphor is that you cannot be alone, that means you are broken. are you getting over someone? that is acceptable, you can be getting over someone, but not for long. you must be single because you would rather not be single. you must be single and looking to not-be-single. you must want to date, eventually.
friendship and community are never seen as being equal-to or even-better than romantic connection. that person is your one! you need to find them. you need to hunt through the sand particles until you can shift out some kind of gem. this is regardless to your own experience of the beach and the sun. you need to be somewhere with someone.
if you are taking this time alone to heal, that is so sad. everyone gives you this little pitying look. the understanding is that you are not actually happier than you were before you were single. it is seen as a sort of pity - oh, you are choosing yourself, making yourself the priority? - that isn't quite right. you must mean that you are making yourself ready for the right person. you are just laying the bed better this time. open up your heart. you'll find them, we promise!
what do you mean you're really-truly genuinely-very happy? you are probably misremembering what it was like to be in a relationship. and besides, once you meet your person, that time will look grey and bland and wasted. your person is the only way for you to see in color. so what if you have taken this time - for the first time in your entire life - to actually-for-real do the fucking work. you can be proud of yourself, sure. but the way we need to know that you got better is that you get a partner. you're healed enough for the next bad part!
people don't choose to be single, they just say they're choosing to be single - they actually mean "nobody wants to date me." it doesn't matter how many people you have gently rejected or how many times you've talked it over carefully in therapy. what matters is that you are single, and by all accounts - that means you are something worth our pity. your successes and life all seem pale in the sunlight. sure, you have done amazing things and finally found your way in life. what matters is that there wasn't a person in the room with you while you did it.
you want to tell them - that's the whole thing. i didn't know how to be alone in the room. i didn't know how to handle the silence. every moment was so sharp, and i kept choosing the wrong way to close the door. i have spent my entire life in the empty well, living in the ricochet of someone else's cruelty. for once i have built myself a ladder. for once everything i taste is all mine, every bite of sunshine and laughter. i have learned how to sleep out in the open with my memories. recently, they have started to purr.
your father rolls his eyes. listen. this isn't about you. i just want a grandchild in my future.
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neckromantics · 3 months
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We don't talk enough about how absolutely devastating and romantic and hot the idea is that Astarion would know the scent of your blood anywhere.
How quickly he would notice when you've even the slightest of nics? When, no matter how focused on anything else he might be at the time, he always comes to check it out?
You'll be peeling a piece of apple with your pocket knife when it slips in your grip. The sharp edge of the blade slices a shallow cut into the meat of your thumb, and you inhale sharply through your nose even though it barely hurts at all. Instinct has you sucking your injured digit into your mouth with a soft curse– the sweet juice of the fruit you were snacking on quickly overpowered by the metallic twang of blood.
You nearly jump out of your skin when he appears over you not a moment later. He makes some offhand comment about how careless you are. Takes hold of your injured hand and tuts like he intends to tease, but he isn't fooling anyone.
He stands so close, jaw ticking as he clenches his teeth, a tension in his shoulders that tells you he's doing everything in his power to keep composure. Your blood calls to him like a moth to a flame, and as funny as you find it in the moment, you don't have the heart to tease him for it. It's actually kind of endearing.
He'd only get quicker in noticing as time passes.
Especially after you've been traveling together for a few years, and he's come to know your scent better than his own. Which only makes sense considering how often he's got his nose pressed to some part of you. (He thinks you smell good.)
At this point, when you get injured in battle, he often catches the fragrance before you've even processed that you've been hit.
He'd suck in a sharp breath through his teeth– a hiss so loud that it catches your attention just enough for you to spare him a glance as you fight.
It's all you need to see just how blown his pupils are from where you're standing, mostly because his gaze is laser locked onto you to second you search for him. His movements turn faster. Deadlier, as he scans the field before you. Determined. Hungry. Angry. He's searching for the sorry wretch that dared to get the best of you– that dared spill even a drop of his beloved's precious blood upon the soil.
You've already taken them down, of course. Poor sap might have gotten a good dig in at your shoulder, but ultimately didn't stand a chance once he properly pissed you off.
Astarion's eyes go heavy.
Half-lidded in that special way of his and only darkening further as he appraises you. You can practically feel it as he follows the line of your throat, zeroes in on your pulse point for a moment, before settling to watch the warm crimson that's beginning to soak into the sleeve of your tunic.
You see a bit of concern in those eyes, but then he sees your smile and– A flash of hot, honeyed desire catches you by surprise.
You suddenly can't tell if it's just the blood loss making you woozy or if he's about to make you swoon like a maiden from an old romance novel. You try (and fail) to keep a straight face when he sinks his dagger into his final opponent's neck without so much as a glance their way.
There's a splash of red against pale white skin, and a lifeless body dropping to the grass by his feet. Your heart stutters in your chest, and he all but moans in response to the sound of it. A mere four paces and he's on you– hands and teeth and tongue exploring every inch of your exposed skin, ripping open parts of your armor to gain better access, like you're not stood in a field of gore and ruin and freshly spilled blood.
You cling to him like a lifeline.
Before he drags you away to camp– to a warm tent and a soft bedroll where he can have his way with you for as long as you and your mortal body will allow him– he has you down a potion of healing or two.
And it's a good thing one of you has a Lesser Restoration spell handy somehow, cause you're most definitely gonna need it.
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avocado-writing · 3 months
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Okay, I've had this idea bouncing around in my head, waiting for you to reopen suggestions, haha. How do you think the Origins Companions + Halsin, Rolan, Dammon, and Zevlor would react if they found out that Tav had been hiding a very serious injury from them? The kind of injury where Tav is convinced that they're fine and they don't want to worry anyone with something they can handle on their own, especially the people they care most for, but as they try to ignore the injury it only gets worse until it's potentially life threatening and they can't keep up the facade anymore. I will leave it up to you whether or not Tav and the other individual are in a romantic relationship. I think both ways have potential for wonderful angst 😆
ooohhh noooooo! but also oh yes, LOVE this sort of angst lol. written as if you have had an infection come on from an injury. this is gonna be a long list so let's buckle up...
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Astarion
really tries to hide his panic but fails miserably.
can't help but start snapping - how could you keep something like this from him?
you try to give your excuses but he waves them away, angry, but mostly because he's terrified that he might have lost you.
if he has any healing potions he helps you take them, if he doesn't he immediately... sources some from somewhere.
holds you as tight as he dares, worried that he will aggravate the injury otherwise.
as you begin to heal and drift off to sleep he spends the whole night watching you rest, making sure that you're still breathing, still safe. doesn't mind when you cuddle up to him in the night, sleepily.
Gale
curses himself for not noticing your condition. he's a wizard, damn it! he's meant to be bloody perceptive.
wishes for the first time ever that he didn't just know wizard spells. wishes he knew how to heal, too.
makes you as comfortable as he can while he finds a book about what he can do for an infected wound, probably swallowing his pride and going to Shadowheart if it's bad enough.
you manage a weak, "Gale, you don't have to--", and he cuts you off, "if you're going to insist that I don't have to look after you, I'm telling you that I do."
fixes you something to help with the pain and infection, makes sure you drink it all despite the horrid taste, then tucks you into his bedroll to let you rest.
when you go to reach out and cuddle him he slips into your arms, presses his lips to your hair, and whispers as you fall asleep about how much you scared him. about how he'd never be able to lose you.
Lae'zel
only realises how unwell you are when you fall over mid-journey.
"tsk'va! why did you hide the extent of your injuries from me?"
hauls you onto her back and carries you back to camp, muttering about your foolishness the whole time.
makes you comfortable in her tent and uses her knowledge of githyanki medicine to help start healing you.
it isn't comfortable as she works on your infection but for the first time you feel her hands being soft rather than vicious.
"you should not have kept this from me." "I know. I'm sorry." "hm. ridiculous thing. zhak vo'n'fynh duj."
goes and intimidates the camp into being quiet so you can rest. it works. this is the nicest she's ever been to you. you could get used to it.
Shadowheart
obviously this is not a huge problem for her, but she is still worried that it got so far without her noticing.
immediately heals you, pouring far too many spell slots into your body in order to get it up and running again.
it helps, immediately breaking the fever you've been nursing, and the touch of Shadowheart's hand to your face is cooling and reassuring.
"lady shar teaches us to embrace our pain... but not like this. you should have known better. you could have died."
her hand slips down to cup your cheek, you cover it with one of your own. she's telling you off but you can tell it's because she cares.
"I'm sorry that I scared you." "I know. don't do it again."
she smiles and the ache in your heart is lifted, too.
Wyll
panics.
you collapse on day in camp and he immediately calls on the others for help, not so proud as to be unable to admit when something is out of his knowledge. he is not a healer. he needs help.
he manages to catch you in his arms as you tumble, hugging you close to his chest while magic is worked or a healer checks you over.
lets out a breath he didn't realise he was holding when you begin to stabilise.
helps you back to your tent to rest, gently chiding you but letting you know that he's glad you're alright.
when your hand weakly comes up to touch him, he indulges you in a kiss to let you know how relieved he is.
constantly watching you on the battlefield from that moment on. if he can help it, you'll never be hurt again.
Karlach
another panicker.
scoops you up in her arms and holds you to her chest, running to the tent of the nearest healer in camp - or, if you're in the city, kicking down the door of a local doctor.
begging the healer to check you over, but is reluctant to let you go. if she stops holding you it's like she's relinquishing control and that scares the life out of her.
you're healed and she feels you start to stir in her arms, peppering you with kisses of relief, choking through her tears that you're never to scare her like that again.
carries you back home, even if you're totally capable of walking. she just wants to make sure you're okay.
Halsin
sternly disappointed that you didn't tell him, but more annoyed that he didn't notice something was wrong himself. how could he not see how out of balance with nature you were?
squirrels you away to his tent to heal you, make you soothing and medicinal teas, his big hands over the source of the infection.
you burrow into his touch, into his chest, and you end up sitting in his lap as he heals you.
he wants to tell you off a little, but is more relieved that you're alright. encourages you to share all your burdens with him.
kisses you on the forehead, then on the mouth when he's sure you're strong enough for it not to knock you flat.
Dammon
my poor boy is just a blacksmith, so though he doesn't exactly panic, he does scoop you up and try to find a healer as soon as he can.
waits quietly and nervously as you are examined, silently cursing himself for being too busy to see how you were hurt. he's meant to be better than this. he's meant to love you, how didn't he notice?
when you come to he can't stop apologising, and it takes several of your kisses to soothe him and tell him it was not his fault but yours.
he makes you promise that you'll always tell him when you're hurt. has you look into his eyes and swear it.
he can't do much on the battlefield but he can protect you where he can.
Rolan
another one cursing that he doesn't know healing spells.
"you aren't meant to die, gods damn it! you're meant to be strong... what good am I if I can't keep you safe..."
rushes you to the best doctor in Baldur's Gate. pays for all the treatment that you could need. holds your hand at your bedside for your entire recovery... until you come back to consciousness, of course, at which point he just starts telling you off for being stupid enough to get into his mess in the first place.
you grab him by the collar and drag him down for a kiss. that finally shuts him up. but he never lets you forget how foolish you were.
Zevlor
practical but still worried about you.
you collapse in the field and he finds a safe place to hide the both of you from dangerous eyes, using his Lay on Hands ability to channel his magic into healing.
you try to apologise but a finger to your lips silences you, and all you can do is watch in quiet wonder as he burns the infection out with his Paladin's light.
when you're better he gently chides you. tells you that you have people relying on your leadership, and that a problem shared means there are more heads working on how to fix it.
when he sees how sorry you are lets you cuddle into him. when you say you'll repay him, he insists your happiness and well-being is enough for an old warrior like him.
does take the kiss you offer, though. he's been wanting to do that for a while...
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maelialuv · 1 year
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Call It What You Want, Steve Harrington
Summary: Going to a party at your bully's house had to be your worst nightmare come true. But you know what they say; don't get over someone, get under them.
Warnings: SMUT! slow burn filth. I need a hot shower level. breeding kink if you squint. unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!) fem!reader :)
NOTE: some characters have been aged up, like chrissy, so that everyone is in senior year at the same time :)
Word Count: 5.9K
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You loved a party. Couldn't get enough of the heat of a group of people, the roar of laughter overlapping with the excited chatter of friends reuniting. The inevitable crash of dropped glass making the whole crowd hush before resuming their nestled talk. You were, in every sense of the word, a party girl. But that wasn't always the case.
Before this year - your senior year at Hawkins High- you'd been riding the coat tails of your childhood best friend, Nancy Wheeler, all throughout your school life. You were the sad little puppy that followed her around, but Nance never minded. She was always happy to have you by her side, or just behind her. Everywhere she went, you were there a few seconds later. That was until she started hanging out with, and later dating your sworn enemy.
Steve Harrington.
The guy had tormented you since middle school, along with his minions Tommy and Carol. The two of you used to make fun of people like them, stuck up and out of touch, and then she became one of them. Just like that. You could tell she felt guilty, by the way she would send you a furrowed glance at lunch as if to say 'I'm sorry, I have to!', like she had no control over who she surrounded herself with. As if she had no choice but to curl up beside the guy that broke your elbow in seventh grade.
Like she couldn't help but fall into the arms of the guy that had made your life a living hell for more than six years.
You still occasionally spoke to Nancy. After all, you lived across from one another, and thus had to see each other at some points. She would sometimes invite you to study, but you had started to make excuses after you had seen Harrington climb the garage roof and into her window, not liking the thought of his impulsive tendency for a romantic rendezvous interrupting a study session whilst you were there. You didn't want to put Nacy through the grief.
Your 'Lost Lamb' persona left you the moment you started hanging out with someone you never thought you'd consider a friend in your wildest dreams, or nightmares, Chrissy Cunningham. Expecting her to be a total Queen Bee, she was nothing of the sort. She was warm and kind and sisterly, all the things you missed from your friendship with Nancy. She sat with you at lunch, went to the movies with you, and eventually secured you a seat at the table with the rest of the cheerleaders, their boyfriends and the rest of their gang. They welcomed you with unexpected sincerity, and that was that.
You started going to house parties on Saturdays, diners on Wednesday nights with the girls, study sessions with some of the basketball team that couldn't quite pass a class or two. People waved at you in the halls, remembering your name for once. You and Chrissy would have sleep overs, and you felt the hole in your heart that Nancy left slowly start to heal. More or less.
But then you got that stupid invite.
"Gotcha!" Chrissy closed your locker door, scaring you senseless.
"Jesus, Chris!" you stacked your books in your arms. She was smiling wide, as always, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "What?" you said, a raised brow and half a smirk making its way across your lips.
"Before you say anything, just let me talk," she made tiny praying hands to her chest, puppy dog eyes gleaming. "Promise?"
"Okay," you sighed.
"There's a party this weekend, and we're all going, and we all really want you to come." You looked at her with raised brows, as if to say 'go on?'. "It's Steve Harrington's party."
You'd managed to avoid almost every one of Harrington's parties with some believable, and some not so believable, excuses in the past year since your surge in popularity. "I don't know, Chris, I'm so busy with college applications this weekend-"
"Who needs them!" she cried, "We all know you're gonna get into Yale or Hardvard or Brown or whichever super crazy smart college you want to go to." She grabbed your hand, swaying it back and forth, like a child begging their mother for a candy bar at the grocery store. "Pretty please?" she did the puppy eyes again, knowing it would sway you to agree.
"Fine."
"Yay! I'll come to your house at nine tomorrow to get you!"
And that's how you found yourself in your old bullies house, red solo cup in hand, full of whatever lethal punch one of the football players had concocted. Already tipsy, lingering by the kitchen so that the constant stream of drinks wouldn't slow. Bodies moved ungracefully around you, shimmying and shoving through to the living room or to the ruckus of the back yard where people were throwing each other into Steve Harrington's large pool. You sipped on your drink thoughtfully, feeling the confidence built over the last year slip away from you as you returned to your old wallflower state.
"Why are you hiding in here, silly?" Chrissy came to your side, the shimmery pink eyeshadow on her lids making her green eyes luminous in the low light of the kitchen. "The gang's all next door, come on!" She grabbed your hand with surprising strength, dragging you into the large living room. Deep sofas lined the walls, each with a basketball player and their girlfriends curled up on one. On the one furthest from you, was Nancy and Steve. Next to them, Tommy and Carol. It made your stomach turn to see her with him. You avoided her persistent gaze. But Harrington's gaze, raking you in and eyes darting up and down, was harder to lose. He stared at you adamantly.
When the buzz of chatter died down, a few of the basketball players and their girlfriends left to find more entertaining activities, it was just a handful of people left in the living room. Including you, Nance and Steve. Tommy had the glint of wicked amusement in his eyes, and it made you uncomfortable. "I know what we should do," he said, eyes falling to you. "Let's play a little game." Carol perked up beside him, as if their minds were connected in some twisted way. "Yeah, let's do something fun."
"Games, come on guys," Jason, Chrissy's boyfriend, spoke up. "We're not in middle school anymore." Carol got her own wicked smile.
"Oh, certainly not." her eyes fell on you , analysing how your style had changed. You were wearing dark make up, smoking out your eyes and giving them an alluring pull. You showed off skin, knew how to present yourself. Her eyes narrowed, her smile a venomous sneer. "No, if this were middle school, I wouldn't be caught dead at a party with her."
You simply cocked your head to the side, giving carol a tight lipped sarcastic smile. Inside, you felt thirteen again. Instinctively, you grabbed your elbow, as if you could feel the pain of the break there now. Tommy barked out a laugh at Carol's comment. "Yeah, who knew the black sheep would turn into a black swan, huh?"
You felt gross as he raked his eyes over you, unashamed as he stared at the place where the hem of your dress ended.
"Fuck off, Tommy." you retorted, voice calm but heart racing a million miles a minute behind your ribcage. You felt like you were a lamb on a platter for the lions, ready for the slaughter.
"She speaks!" Carol squawked. Next to them on the couch, Nancy squirmed. Never one for confrontation, she excused herself to grab a drink. You caught her eye as she left. She looked guilty. You wanted to follow her, grab her by the shoulders and tell her to wake up. Tell her that her friends, and her boyfriend, were assholes. But she never listened before. She just couldn't admit it to herself.
"Been a while since we've seen you, babe. Where've you been hiding those legs, huh?" Carol smacked her gum as she spoke, obnoxious and loud.
"I found some better people to hang out with." Beside you, Chrissy stuck her arm over your shoulder. Her face was hard. It made her look older, the serious glare that she was sending Carol. Carol sneered at her, and the expression aged her terribly.
Steve caught your eye, shifted hard away from Tommy. He was gripping his beer with a tight knuckled grip. His eyes slithered down your neck, over your chest, and landed similarly to Tommy's. You grabbed the hem of your dress and yanked downward.
"One of the cool kids now, are you? Not following Wheeler around like a dog anymore?" Tommy took a long sip of his beer.
"We drifted apart." you said simply.
"Oh yeah? Since when?" Carol chimed in again and you felt your blood boil beneath your skin. Steve continued his obvious oggling.
"Since she traded her spine for a shiny new basketball player"
Nancy stood by the door, drink in hand. Her eyes were wide, like a deer in headlights. The whole group erupted into astonished laughter, Chrissy struggling to hold back as she clutched her stomach. Steve glared at the floor, as if willing it to say a comeback that would sting you back. Nancy sat down beside him, silent.
"Woah, you gonna take that Wheeler?" Carol guffawed.
She remained silent as a mouse at Steve's side.
"Nance was never one for speaking up anyway. "
You grabbed your cup and flittered out of the living room, the atmosphere suffocating you. You needed another drink, a cigarette, and some alone time. Drink secured, and obscenely strong, you crept up the stairs to the second floor. Once you found a room that didn't stink of puke or had two people sucking face in, an ensuite bathroom, you locked the door and sat in the tub.
Shutting the shower curtain, doc martens resting on the taps, you lit your cigarette. You still couldn't believe you were in Steve Harrington's house - let alone one of his bathtubs - after everything that went down all those years. Yet there you were. Nancy lost to the dark side, you in with the cool kids. Your middle school self wouldn't believe it. You rested your eyes for a moment, breathing in the smoke and taking gentle sips of your drink.
Your thoughts were interrupted by muffled yelling in the next room. You stubbed out your cigarette, trying to get out of the tub as quietly as possible, when you heard your name. It was Steve and Nancy, and they were fighting. About you.
"Why are you bringing this up now?" Steve said, exasperated.
"You guys were awful to her, Steve!"
"Yeah, like you did anything about it, huh Nance?"
You recoiled back into the tub, feeling invasive but caring more about what Nancy had to say for herself than your moral compass. It was a years' worth of pain cementing your form in the tub, ear preened toward the doorway.
"You tormented her!"
"And you watched! If anything, that's worse!"
"How is that worse than what you, YOU, did to her Steve?!
There was a pause. You could imagine Nancy's face; pouted lips, furrowed brow, cheeks blotchy from an ill-fated attempt to hold back her angry tears. Steve laughed humourlessly. It was a cutting sound, and you could hear Nancy take deep breaths.
"What we did, sure, it was stupid. Do I regret it? Of course, we never meant to get her hurt back then."
"You're still awful to her!"
"And there's the kicker," Steve chuckled darkly. "She always stuck up for herself. That's why we did it, we knew she'd give us some fun." There was a long moment where no one spoke. "You never stood up for her once, Nancy."
His words hung in the air like smoke, seeping into your clothes and clogging your throat.
"You never defended her, then or now."
Nancy was flustered, stuttering over her words.
"You never stood up for your best friend? Thats...awful, Nance."
You could hear as Nancy struggled to find a defence, as she used to with you. She would blubber to you, relaying how guilty she felt with enough tears that you eventually ended up comforting her, forgetting that you'd even come to her for help.
"Fuck you, Steve." You could hear as she grabbed her things, storming out of the room with vibrant language. The loud declaration that "it was fucking over" made a laugh - vindictive and partly delighted - rise in your chest.
You smacked a hand over your mouth in realisation. Your movements froze, fear jolting through your bones as you heard Steve pattering about the next room. His movements stopped abruptly as your foot knocked a bottle of shampoo off the edge of the tub.
In a split second - idiotic- decision, you decide to make a run for it. You rip back the curtain, jumping to the floor and striding for the door, the door you had so stupidly locked. A warm hand grabbed your wrist in a vice like grip.
"I wouldn't do that, if I were you."
His voice was low, deep. It echoed in your chest. It made your heart thump. It made your blood boil.
"Get your hand off me." you seethed. His grip remained, making the skin of your wrist tingle. His touch was firm yet feather light. Unwilling to let you go, but not trying to hurt you. When his hand remained unmoving, you struggled against his grasp. "Get off, Steve."
He was leaning over you, shoulder blocking the door. He hovered above you, taunting, as he looked you over again. His gaze was relentless, inescapable. Confusing.
"Let go, Steve." You sighed out, defeated and embarrassed as he held you in place. You felt unnervingly calm. Strangely glued to the floor under his honey brown eyes as they bored into your own. You wanted nothing more than to move your feet - maybe stomp on his own so he would release the grip on your hand- and get out of the claustrophobic bathroom. You risked a glance up at the boy.
Christ.
Steve was never unattractive. Never had an awkward phase. He was always tall, athletic and tanned. Your hatred for the boy hadn't blinded you to the painfully obvious. But in the dim green light of the bathroom, shadows accentuating sharp cheekbones and jawline, you saw it. Saw it as the other girls did. Steve Harrington was gorgeous. He was painfully attractive, in every sense of the word. From the symmetrical lines of his cupids bow to the dark lashes framing honey eyes, he was hypnotic. And he had you completely under his spell.
"How much of that did you hear?"
His voice was aggravatingly quiet, gentle. Intoxicating. There was a gap between the two of you, small enough that you could feel the warmth of Steve's breath on your cheek as he spoke. You felt like a child being scolded by a parent, guilt driving you to complete honesty. It was the same tone that would make you confess to a teacher, had the same soft lilt.
"Enough." You replied, and your voice was hoarse. Rough, like you needed water desperately. You did, you felt as though your throat was bone dry. "Enough to hear you chew out Nancy."
Steve's eyes were inexplicably soft as he looked at you, and at the mention of Nancy they hardened almost imperceptibly. "Yeah, well," he sighed, languid and frustrated, "that was gonna happen, no matter if it was about you or not." When you raised as brow - both in shock at his willingness to detail the state of his relationship, and as a sign to continue- he went on. "All we do is fight."
"Hmm."
""What?"
"Karma came and bit you both in the ass."
The look Steve gave you made you feel bad for saying it, but it was overruled by the vindictive joy you felt at hurting his feelings. The way he backed up slightly, as if he'd not expected you to say something, made your heart jolt a bit. He'd been so awful to you for so long that the knowledge of his relationship being far from perfect made a smile creep its way across your lips.
Steve huffed, frustrated again.
"You are incredibly hard to understand." He said, the same sickeningly sweet voice at play. "You're very different...to how you used to be."
"You mean I'm not a loser anymore?" You quirked a brow.
"You were never a loser," he stepped closer to you, hand still on yours. "You were just...," he trailed off. His gaze was unashamed, staring straight down at your lips as he spoke. "Different."
'What a crock of shit,' you thought. This coming from the guy that bullied you all throughout middle school, even through high school. it was the biggest load of bullshit you'd ever heard. But your ears rang with the rush of blood behind your ears as your heart hammered inside your chest. Steve Harrington was a flirt, and a good one. You were experiencing his best lines. And they were working.
"Different?" there was hardly any space between the two of you now, Steve's lips brushing over yours as he shifted. You didn't stop him when his hand brushed your sides.
"Yeah," the hand that had been holding your wrist against the doorknob came up to cup your cheek. Steve's top lip was on yours as he spoke, "different."
The two of you crashed together with teeth and lips, a brawl of desperate hands and angry grudges. Fingers tangled in hair immediately, tugging and scratching. Steve tasted of smoke, beer and something innately Boyish. His hands settled at your waist, grasping the fabric of your dress there. His lips were pillowy and soft, addictive. You suddenly understood why Nancy put up with it; kissing Steve Harrington was like having your own personal drug. The kiss deepened as you shifted heads, turning for better angles and access.
Steve groaned as his tongue slid across yours, and the way he so clearly enjoyed the kiss made you feel powerful. He backed you up against the bathroom counter. "Jump," he whispered, your bottom lip between his teeth as he nipped the skin there. You did as he said, his voice husky and hypnotic, and he lifted you to rest on the sink. Legs parted, Steve rested between your open knees. One hand resting there, one working on shrugging you out of the jacket that clung to your shoulders. He pulled away from you, an amused smirk on his face as you whined, to rip the jacket away. Shoulders and neck exposed, Steve got to work on the skin there.
You were suddenly way more aware of what you were doing.
"You better not leave a mark, Harrington." you panted out, as Steve nipped a particularly sweet spot just below your ear. He chuckled, and the sound sent a shiver down your spine.
"Why?" he asked, smug lilt to his words. "Afraid of people knowing?"
"More ashamed than afraid," you said, choking on your words as Steve nipped at the skin of your throat. "Can't have people thinking just anyone can have me."
Steve pulled back, and god you melted right there. Hair a mess, eyes blown wide, and lips swollen. It was a glorious sight. "And I'm just anyone?" He was smug, overconfident. Irritatingly attractive.
"Yeah," you gripped the belt loops of his jeans, yanking forward. The bewildered look on his face made you grin. "so this stays between us."
"Aye aye, Captain."
And off you went again, lips colliding in heated snarls. There was a primal anger behind it, driving you into his strong arms as he encased you. Was this self sabotage? Maybe so, but it was the hottest thing you'd ever experienced. Steve's nimble fingers caressed their way up your back, finding the straps of your bra with ease. He snapped one against your shoulder, making you yelp and using the sound to slip his tongue back into your mouth. If it didn't make your bones feel like jelly, you would have chastised him for the cheap move. Carnal desire taking over your mind, you let your cold hands scrape up his chest, lifting the hem of his shirt to graze his stomach.
He tensed up at the touch, a stuttered breath fanning your face as he sighed. His two hands landed firm on your knees, creeping up your legs and stopping as he stroked your inner thigh with his forefingers.
"Permission to come aboard?"
You nodded, arousal coursing through you like a stake to the heart.
"Words, please...Captain."
"You find yourself funny, don't you?"
"Very." His fingers were so close yet so far from where you wanted them. "Do you want to?"
"Yes, I do."
"There we go."
He kissed you again, this time slow. It was harder than before, and as he swiped his tongue over your bottom lip, Steve slipped your underwear down your legs. He groaned into the kiss as he felt you, excitement clear by the wet patch on your panties. "God, you're wet."
You should have been embarrassed. You should have pulled your panties off the floor and run out of the house and all the way home without looking back. But you were putty in his hands as Steve slipped a finger inside of you, hooking upwards and finding that special spot almost immediately. A high pitched whine - one that shocked even you- made its way out of your mouth, muffled as you buried your head in Steve's neck as he set a slow pace. "What a pretty sound," he groaned, catching your face in his hand as you threw it back against the mirror. "You gonna keep making 'em like that?"
You nodded, breathless, and then he was out of your sight.
Steve kissed down your chest, shoving your dress over your stomach and kissing the skin as he went down. His fingers intwined with yours as they gripped the marble counter. You sat up to catch his eye, and what a pretty sight it was. Steve Harrington, pupils dilated with lust, with his head between your thighs. He kissed your thighs, and you mewled; so close yet so far.
"Please," you moaned. Embarrassment crept up on you, and you could feel the blood rush to your cheeks. "God, please Steve."
Steve dug his fingers into the skin of your thighs, toying with them. He kissed his way to your knees, enjoying the sight before him as you writhed about. "Please what?" he said, and had you not been desperate for him to bury his head between your legs you would have kicked him. He grinned as you fought the urge to beg. "What do you want?" He left surprisingly tender pecks to your knee.
"I want you."
"Where do you want me?" he was taking his time with you, partly for himself - savouring the moment, rejoicing in the way you fell apart before him- and partly to tease you into insanity.
"Jesus Christ," you groaned as he nipped the supple skin of your thighs.
"Steve is just fine." He laughed, putting you out of your misery as he licked one broad stripe up your centre. It was the stupidest, most reckless thing you could be doing, which made it even hotter as Steve hooked his hands under your hips, holding you on top of the counter as your legs wrapped round his head and your hands wove themselves into his hair. Almost immediately you understood Steve's reputation, and you felt a pang of possessiveness as his lips encased your clit, humming as he went. Your back arched off the tiles, mouth agape in a silent 'O' shape. Harrington knew what he was doing, that much was clear as your first orgasm crept up on you.
You could hardly muster words, the only sound in the jade coloured bathroom being the obscene wet sounds and your whimpers as Steve continued to ruin you on the counter. "I'm gonna - oh shit, Steve." The way you moaned his name - like it was the only one you knew, the only one that mattered- made Steve's jeans feel impossibly tight, palming himself for something, anything to relieve himself. He was just as desperate, just as wanting, as you were - if not more. The thought of what was to come made you clench around Steve's fingers, exploding in a white hot scream on his tongue. You fell back against the mirror, hairs sticking to the sides of your face, cheeks flushed with both heat and bashfulness. Steve crept up your stomach again, stealing a kiss when he made it to your lips.
You could taste yourself as he kissed you, slow and deep. His hands swiped the hair from your face, in a gesture entirely too sweet for a boy that had just ravaged you in his bathroom. It bothered you. That wasn't part of the interaction - there was no sweetness involved. It almost took you out of the moment, but as your hips bucked into Steve's, and he let out a strangled groan, the moment was saved. As his lips found purchase on your collarbones, your hands made work of unbuttoning his shirt - purposefully slow, you enjoyed watching his stomach tense as you grazed it. The sharp intake of breath as you began unbuckling his belt made you feel powerful, made your stomach do flips. "Here?" you asked, kissing down his neck to the space where it met his shoulders, "or somewhere else?"
Steve's eyes lit up like a christmas tree at the prospect that this - whatever this was- wasn't over just yet. He gripped your hands on his belt buckle. "Not here." With little effort, he hoisted you over his shoulder - much to your shock and dismay. You swatted his back but couldn't help the swell of arousal as his arm tightened round your waist. He set you down on the edge of the bed, standing in front of you with one hand on your cheek. In the dim light of his bedroom, Steve Harrington was devastatingly handsome. The soft glow of peaches and oranges made his eyes a molten chocolate, skin peppered with a red hue from...exertion.
"It's rude to stare." he said, voice void of the smugness from before. It made your ribcage rattle, heart thudding with the weight of his stare. It felt like he was looking at your soul, and it made you shiver. The boy who'd tormented you for years, was seeing you. Staring right back at him, your hands made their way to his belt loops. It was your turn to make him writhe a bit.
"Can't help it," you said, voice all airy and entirely foreign to your ears. It dripped with a lust, husky and soft. "You're somewhat of a looker."
You ripped his jeans open, nimble hands ridding him of the garment in seconds. As you grabbed the waistband of his boxers, the outline of his cock straining against the fabric, his hand stopping you. "As amazing as that would be," he said regrettably, "if I don't get you on that bed, I think I may lose my mind." He said it so breathlessly that it made your thighs clench together. He wanted you so badly. You cocked your head to the side, half playful and half serious as you said, "Do something about it then."
Steve didn't need to be told twice. He dove into you, hand steadying your head as your lips locked together - an irritatingly perfect puzzle piece finding another. You were a tangle of legs, arms, and lips as the two of you buried yourselves in Steve Harrington's bed, ridding each other of the clothes that stopped your from touching one another completely. His knee found its home between you, shifting your legs apart to make room for hips. You were encased in Steve; his scent, the feel of his lips on your skin, his legs locking yours in place. His hips rocking into yours as he kissed your neck with sinful skill.
Your hands grew restless, tugging at the hairs at the nape of his neck as if he would understand the morse code in the pulling. "Steve," you groaned as he knocked his hips into yours, "please."
You were begging, and you were embarrassed. You couldn't bring yourself to say the words- couldn't stand the thought of asking your middle school bully to fuck you in his bed at his own party. But the boy had other ideas.
"Say it." he toyed with your clit, thumbing it as you whined. When you stayed silent, he pinched one of your nipples between his fingers. he smirked at how quickly they puckered underneath him. "Say you want me."
Your cheeks burned with shame. You couldn't - wouldn't- beg him.
He hovered over you, hands either side of your head, nose brushing yours. You could feel the ghost of his lips over your own. His hand came to rest on your chin, thumb sliding over your lip, tugging it down and letting it slide back. "Open."
You did as he said, opening your mouth wide enough for Steve to slide his thumb into your mouth, a teasing smile on his face as you swirled your tongue around it. "Say you want me to fuck you." He pulled his thumb out of your mouth slowly, grinning as it made a satisfying pop. He leaned down to the shell of your ear. "Tell me you want me to ruin you," he whispered.
The burn in the pit of your stomach raged as Steve kissed the hollow of your throat, waiting for you to speak. Your breath was shallow, eyes closed as you whispered into the air, hoping the buzz of the party below would swallow your words.
"I want you to ruin me."
Steve grinned, wolfish and smug, as he lined himself up with you, locking eyes with you as he pushed himself in. You knew you were gone when he moaned your name like a prayer, said it like it was the cure to his troubles. Like you were something to treasure. One strong arm gripped the headboard as he panted. "God," he grunted out, "you feel incredible."
There was something electric about hearing praise from the boy that tormented you for years, something wickedly delightful about watching his mouth hang open with pleasure as he bottomed out inside you. You clenched around him, desperate for any friction to satisfy the burning between your legs. "Can I move?" he groaned.
"Yes, please."
In public, Steve was an athlete. Behind closed doors, under the sheets, he was an Olympian. He set a fast pace, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust, deeper inside of you every time. The sounds of the party- the drunken teens stumbling, the music blaring- were drowned out by the slapping of skin on skin, of your whines and Steve Harrington's moans as you fell apart beneath him.
"Shitshitshit- man, you're amazing." he moaned as he rutted into you. You were frozen in pleasure, mouth open from silent screams of pleasure. You bit your lip, so hard you would have tasted blood had Steve not being everything you felt in that moment. "Oh, fuck," you groaned at a particularly deep thrust, "I'm s-so close."
"Me too," Steve whimpered, and you were sure it was the hottest thing you'd ever heard. "Where should I-"
"I'm on the pill." you sputtered out.
Steve's eyes darkened, delighted at the permission, determined to get you to your peak before he fell apart himself. "Yeah? You gonna let me come inside?" His hand reached between your conjoined bodies, rubbing tight circles on your clit. "Gonna come for me?"
Your back arched off the mattress, the coil in your stomach snapping at the same time Steve collapsed on top of you, his stuttering as he came. You both panted, recovering from the exertion. Rolling over onto his back, you and Steve stared at the ceiling, the weight of what you had done sinking in.
It was wrong, so wrong. He'd just broken up with Nancy, seconds before you let him crawl between your legs. You would have felt terrible, like you'd betrayed her, had it not been so good.
You would have felt guilty, had you not felt the shake of your legs still reeling from the intensity of your orgasm.
Steve turned his head to face you. You turned to look at him.
"I'm sorry about how I treated you, before."
You snorted.
"You don't have to apologise just because we had sex, Steve." The ridiculousness of it made you laugh. "Thanks, though." You were both silent for a while, just laying there. You tried spying your clothes across the room. "Where's my underwear?"
"Oh," Steve mumbled, getting up from the bed and into the bathroom. You couldn't help but stare at his retreating form, back muscles flexing as he stretched. You did the same, a soreness washing over you. Steam filled the bathroom, the sound of the shower running loud against the dying party below. Steve returned in his jeans, smirking as pulled your lavender lace panties from the back pocket, tossing them at you. You caught them with one hand.
"Perv," you said, sliding them back up your legs. Steve smiled from the bathroom doorway. He was looking at you that way again. It made your stomach uneasy. "What?" you said.
"You can, uh, clean up here. If you want." He scratched the back of his neck. He gestured to the shower. You stomach flipped again. You rose from the bed, using the sheet to cover your chest. You stopped in front of Steve, who was struggling not to look down at your loosely covered front.
"This is not a thing, okay?" you said slowly, as if saying the words aloud would make them true. As if hearing them from your own lips would stop the way your lips yearned for Steve's the second they left your own. "This goes nowhere else."
Steve nodded, mockingly serious.
"Aye aye, Captain."
He grabbed your hand, making you drop the sheet, and led you into the steam filled bathroom. You let him wash your skin, all soap and too much affection given who he was to you. You didn't stop him when he kissed below your eye, on your nose, or when he placed an all too tender kiss on your lips for just a second. But it was long enough. You let him wrap you in a towel, drying you with gentle hands. You didn't object when he dressed you in his old basketball shorts and a tattered sweatshirt. You let him tuck you under his sheets, didn't flinch away when he tucked your hair behind your ear.
You let him wrap his arm over your waist when he returned, having kicked the last stragglers out of the house. You let yourself fall asleep in his bed, warm and soft and all too inviting, much like its inhabitant.
What you wouldn't do was let yourself fall for this, you thought. You wouldn't fall for Steve Harrington. Wouldn't fall for his moves, his overused lines. Wouldn't get wrapped up with the wrong guy.
But as morning came, and you turned to see Steve already looking at you, that look on his face, you thought that maybe it was too late. And by the looks of Steve Harrington, it was too late for him as well.
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dotster001 · 7 months
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Request pls: Yuu's Harem
Riddle, Leona, Jamil, Idia, Malleus, Azul to gn!reader that helps them heal from overblot (unsure to add Vil cus he has Rook whom already does god's work everyday)
Reader just comes close to their space and sees if they're doing good. Then it evolves to asking about their day and about the world of TW to make convo. Then it turns to a friendship where Reader commends them for doing things beneficial and good for themselves in the day, then tells them "Good boy/good job!" at even the smallest things when they take care of themselves without Reader's help (beast tamer Yuu awakening)
Reader gives them a braided bracelet made by themself and they cherish it. But then one day the Vice/Other dorm leader notices the bracelet and goes "Ah, so you're officially part of the harem"
You can write either first or second paragraph I just wrote it all out for context of the second
Self Love and Braided Bracelets
A/N: I did a little bit of both 😁 I included Vil, because no offense to Rook, but someone who makes comments about someone's weight is not good for self love
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"So, I made this for you. You don't have to wear it, I just….I was making one and it kind of started to remind me of you," you handed Vil the gold and purple braided bracket you'd made the night before. He gently picked it up, seemingly unsure of how to feel about it.
"Also, I just want to say," you took a deep breath, "if you ever need to talk to someone, I'm here to listen."
The look in your eyes was so heartfelt that Vil worried he'd tear up just from looking at it. 
"I'll keep that in mind, thank you."
Not that you'd ever know how raw you'd made him feel. Perhaps he was still too weak from his incident. It didn't matter. He was as composed and calm as ever.
A braided bracelet didn't exactly fit his wardrobe. But the next morning, his hand hovered over it, hesitating about not wearing it. So he slipped it on. His gut was never wrong, and it was telling him to wear it. Besides, his sleeves would cover it.
….
Months later, and Vil was now sitting at your lunch table. He'd never admit it, but he enjoyed it when you would take a spoonful of food and feed it to him when he didn't eat enough.
Malleus Draconia, of all people, walked over to your table with a tray, his entourage in tow.
"Hey Mal Mal! I'll get us some more chairs," you said with a smile, getting up and beginning your hunt for seats.
Idia looked up from his silent eating, and pointed to Malleus' wrist.
"So you're part of the harem now, huh?"
"The what?" Vil muttered before noticing the green and black braided bracelet on Malleus' wrist.
"It's not a harem," Riddle said with a pout.
"What else would you call it?" Idia snapped, fiddling with his own bracelet that Vil was noticing for the first time.
"The turnip's got a point for once. It is very harem like," Leona snickered.
"Doesn't harem imply a romantic aspect?" Azul asked, looking up from his meal. 
"The flowers we all got for love day have a certain implication," Leona smirked.
"And the "I love you, have a great day! You matter to me!" Texts every morning also have an implication," Jamil muttered, clearly flustered by the conversation.
Idia nodded, and said, "It could also just be a friendly harem. You know, a harem of self love. Harems can be platonic."
"Platonic, huh?" Riddle sounded a little sad.
"It sounds like it really depends on Y/N's feelings," Vil spoke up finally.
Before the others could respond, you came back dragging a chair with you.
"Sorry that took so long! Who knew it would be so hard to find a chair?" You laughed.
Malleus sat down, and you looked over at  Idia.
"Idia, I know I don't say this enough, but I'm really proud of you for eating lunch with us."
"Thank you," Idia practically purred, the tips of his hair turning a light pink.
Vil shook his head with a light laugh. He looked at his fellow "harem mates", and realized that whether this was platonic, romantic, or something else, he was willing to see wherever it led.
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pathetic-sapphic · 9 months
Text
Jinx NSFW Alphabet
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Jinx is still buzzing with energy and excitement from your activities. She can go for a long time and often only stops because you can't keep up with her stamina. So she uses the extra energy to dote on you. She feeds you snacks, braids your hair and leads the two of you to shower. Whenever there are times when she acted more rough, she likes to talk to you about it and make sure you aren't actually hurt. Knows you can be really vulnerable after rougher scenes so she makes sure to rub some healing salve on your bruises and hold you until you've calmed down.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
She likes her hands the most, especially the way you react to them when they're softly caressing your skin or when she's shoving them down your throat. Both is good. On her partner, Jinx is enamored by their tummy. She loves worshipping it and laying kisses over the soft skin. She also likes seeing the way it bulges from the pressure of her strap being so deep inside of you.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
It's her life goal to make you squirt and she loves getting her face and fingers messy with your release. Will humiliate you for making a mess and force you to taste your own juices by shoving her fingers into your mouth and giving you an order to lick them clean. Will also gag you with her cum-stained panties whenever you're being a brat.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
She'd love to brand you as hers in some way. Ideally by tattooing one of her signature doodles on your skin, or just her name would do.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Jinx is most likely still a virgin by the time the two of you met. She never really trusted anyone enough to do it, so the two of you learn together. She is a very curious, experimental and a quick learner who wants to try everything at least once (as long as you're on board).
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Queening (aka face-sitting), scissoring, classic cowgirl (with you riding her) and missionary.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Definitely has her goofy moments. She loves making you laugh and then turning your laughter into a moan as she suddenly thrusts into you. Will also teasingly tickle you while eating you out so it's hard for you to focus on that tickling sensation or the one of pleasure.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
The carpet does match the drapes, most of the time. She seems like the kind of a person who likes to experiment with different colors and shapes down there, but is never hairless.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
She is very vulnerable and intimate. It's important for her to know that she's making you feel good and that you're comfortable. She can be very passionate and romantic when she's in the mood for it.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Doesn't do it often. Why would she when she can have you do it for her? If you aren't around, then she'd rather distract herself and wait for you to come back.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Edging, overstimulation, bondage, dacryphilia, dumbification and impact play.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Does not care, will do it wherever she feels like it, as long as you're on board. She will take you in a dark alleyway, at the Last Drop's storage room, her hideout, anywhere as long as the mood is right. She likes the way you clench around her whenever you realize just how risky the location you two are at is. Laughs at you and tells you to be quiet if you don't want anyone to see you so pathetic and at her mercy.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Jinx is such a damn tease and adores the reactions she gets out of you. Will play with you in public, lightly touch your sensitive spots and whisper dirty things in your ear. Seeing your face red and the way you're fidgeting in your seat makes her want to do unspeakable things to you. You're just too cute.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
She isn't a fan of being the submissive one because she likes feeling in control. Also would never do anything to seriously hurt you so she needs you to communicate how you feel at all times. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if she ever made you uncomfortable so you two always make sure to discuss things beforehand.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Prefers giving, Jinx loves the way you squirm and whimper whenever she is making you feel good. Slaps your ass if you're moving around too much and tells you to behave. When she's on the receiving end, she pulls your hair and makes you go dumb by simultaneously praising and degrading you.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Fast and rough most of the time. She wants the two of you to get lost in the frenzy of pleasure and sensations. She likes it messy and intense, making sure you won't be able to walk properly for days. Slow and sensual is reserved for when the two of you are feeling tired or too vulnerable for anything rough.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Jinx is a fan of quickies. In fact, she will often pull you to a secluded place whenever the two of you are out, edge you and tell you you'll get your reward later if you behave. Sometimes she will also fuck the living daylights out of you against an alley wall while keeping a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Yes. Although Jinx has some hard limits, she is willing to try almost everything at least once. Is a big risk-taker and loves to drag you into it.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Jinx has quite a lot of energy to spare so she can go all night and into the next day. She is actually quite strong and often isn't satisfied after only one or two rounds.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Not only does she own them but she also enhances them for you. Often tinkers with different vibrators and uses you as her guinea pig. Will only use them on herself if she is masturbating on her own. Other than that exception, she loves to torture you with them.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Oh, she is so freaking unfair. Jinx is very into orgasm control and loves both edging and overstimulating you. She can be very strict and won't budge no matter how much you beg. It will actually only make her tease and humiliate you more for being so needy and pathetic.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Jinx can be quite loud as she thinks it's important to let you know the effect your actions have on her. She will growl in frustration and moan in delight, constantly praising you and telling you what to do.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
She would actually love to be woken up in the morning by you eating her out. If you decide to surprise her like that, then chances are you aren't leaving the bed for the rest of the day.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Quite high. Jinx is a very touch starved, needy and clingy lover so you'll probably be going at it several times a week. However she is more than willing to take care of herself if you're not in the mood.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Not very quickly, like I mentioned before she still has some leftover energy so she'll wait for you to fall asleep and then start doodling stuff over your arm. Falls asleep clinging to you and with her head resting upon your chest.
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Could I get hc for where the M6 find MC badly injured?. Not like on deaths door but like they'll need a strict week of bedrest to recover.
How they would react to finding MC?, how they would react knowing someone out there hurt MC on purpose? and how they would spend the week looking after MC?.
Mainly curious for Asra/Nadia and Muriel but all the m6 would be appreciated.
The Arcana HCs: When M6 find MC badly injured
~ @fox-daddy oh, I hope you're ready for some bittersweet angst while I run with this classic romantic moment :3 hope you enjoy these, friend! - brainrot ~
CW for brief descriptions of violence, physical pain/injury, and the M6 being very, very upset
-- to set the scene --
You had spent the afternoon in the forest gathering more stock for the shop, and lost track of time in the process. By the time you were ready to leave the sun was already setting and it was getting harder to see where you were going.
The first sign you had of an attacker was the feeling of being slammed harder than you thought possible on the back of the head. Everything that followed was fuzzy - being hit a few more times around your torso and face, a figure with its face hidden, and eventually being thrown against a wall while your bag was yanked away.
You don't know when you fell asleep, but when you open your eyes, you're back in your shop with your beloved bending over you.
Julian
His hands are steady on your bruises, but when you meet his eyes you can hear his breaths and see the curls around his face shaking
"MC?" He asks worriedly, "Can you tell me where it hurts?"
He doesn't leave the house while you're recovering. He's grateful for any help Mazelinka, Portia, Nadia, or Asra offers, but he insists on treating you himself and does so with total care and devotion
It's one of the moments when you're grateful for his cold hands, because they're so soothing on your tender skin
As you recover enough to be more aware of your surroundings, you start to realize just how the incident is affecting him
You can hear him pacing and muttering and swearing when he thinks you're asleep, trying to figure out how this happened and who did it and how to bring your attacker to justice
And at the same time, you know that no matter how many times he apologizes for not being there and you tell him that it's not his fault, he's going to blame himself
At one point Mazelinka gives you both bowls of soup laced with sleeping medicine
When he's able to forget your attacker, though, he's in his element
He's willing and able to give you everything you need: healing, company, laughter, love, and devotion, all without limits
Though he's very relieved when Nazali catches the assailant lurking outside your shop as they bring their apprentice more supplies and knocks them to the ground
Asra
The first thing you see is their hair twice as fluffed out as usual because they've been running their hands through it
As soon as he sees you're awake, he's gently skimming a thumb across your cheek and putting on a strained smile. "Oh, my love. Everything's going to be alright."
Salim and Julian, who have both studied medicine, are already in the shop helping Asra heal you while Aisha keeps you comfortable
As soon as you're recovered enough, Asra's offering you all kinds of safety options after layering the building in protective magic
Would you feel safer in the Palace? In the woods? In Nopal? Say the word and they'll take you anywhere you want to go
Is very gentle and cautious about how he asks you what happened
Stays so extremely calm and unruffled while you're healing that you know they're feeling some pretty awful things and that they have no intention of letting any of them show until you're better
Behind the scenes, he's stealing away whenever you're asleep to pass all the information he has about your attacker on to Nadia, who is determined to bring them to justice
They're not the type to try to restrict you in the name of safety, but they're teaching you every kind of defense magic they know
Nobody does comfort like Asra does. You won't have to go through a moment of pain or fear without him right there to pull you into his arms and hold you as long as you need him to to feel safe
Nadia
She's putting on a brave face but you can tell from the wrinkle between her eyebrows that she's very, very shaken
"Don't fret, my darling, you're safe now. Don't move. I've summoned our best physicians. Is there anything you desire? Anything I may fetch for you?"
As soon as you're cleared to move she's relocating you to the Palace where she can keep you safe and stay by your side
She is so dedicated to staying available to you, in fact, that she moves all of her meetings into the room next to yours so that she can hear you if you so much as cough
And if she does hear you in any kind of discomfort, she's dropping everything and rushing over
She'll move your head to her lap, bring food and water to your mouth, call for blankets and soup or ice cream and fans depending on your temperature, and trace your face with her fingertips until you fall asleep or force her to go back to work
You are her absolute priority
She's not going to tell you until later, but she is very, very angry
The cold kind of angry, that makes it difficult for her to be fair in her dealings. She has every connection both in and out of Vesuvia on a manhunt for your attacker
As soon as she hears that they've been apprehended, she has them detained until you're recovered enough to get out of bed
She wants justice, but she wants closure for you too, and the opportunity for you to obtain both for yourself
Muriel
As triggered and panicked as he is, Muriel has unfortunately gotten enough combat experience to have in-depth knowledge of how to care for someone who's been attacked
When you open your eyes, his expression is shifting between angry and terrified and deeply, deeply hurt, but his touch is gentle and safe and feather-light and he has water and painkillers already out
He doesn't want to overwhelm you with noise so he won't start talking until you do
He'll lock up the shop and carry you back to the hut as soon as possible, where he knows it's safe for you and for him
He's used to living with his own pain, but now he's becoming angry on your behalf and it's making him conflicted because he hates doing anything that could cause violence
So he sends Inanna with a note to Asra, explaining what happened briefly and asking them to pass the message on to Nadia so they can help
The two of them are quick to send everything you could need your way, and Muriel finds it much easier to accept help when it's for you instead of for him
Julian even makes the trek out once or twice to help you, and in the process tells everyone he meets about what happened and the state you're in
With the whole town on the hunt for whoever hurt their heroes, it's a matter of days before the attacker is caught. It's a miracle they make it to jail in one piece
Portia
The first thing you see are her tear-filled eyes, and the second thing you feel (after the aches across your body) are the steady drip of them falling onto your chest
"MC! Oh, I'm so glad you're awake. I'm so sorry - I'm so sorry!"
It's only a few more minutes before Julian and Mazelinka burst through the door, Julian carrying his doctor's kit and Mazelinka brandishing an honest-to-arcana pirate cutlass
Portia doesn't hide her determination to get justice for you as she carries you into Nadia's carriage to take you back to her cottage
She's holding your head and torso in her arms, helping you give Nadia a description of what happened while she presses her handkerchief to her eyes to keep her tears from dripping on you
She's the best nurse you could ask for
Whatever you can stomach, she'll cook it. If you're too hot, she's throwing open the windows and fanning you. If you're too cold, she's snuggling next to you and sharing her body heat
And if you're scared or hurting, she's cradling your face in her hands and crying all her tears for you. She develops a habit of kissing you right next to each injury every morning and night
When you're asleep, she's talking to every person she knows (which is a lot) and recruiting them to catch your attacker
By the time Nadia hears that they were found, it's almost too late to get them safely into custody
Lucio
His lips are white. All the blood has left his face, and his jaw is clenched so tightly to keep from chattering that you're worried it's going to crack
"MC? MC, are you awake? Does it hurt? What do you need?"
You notice that he's keeping his metal arm angled far, far away from you, where the metal can't bump any of your injuries, and his regular hand is fluttering all over your body like he's scared that he'll make it worse if he touches you
You quickly notice that there's several neighbors in the shop as well, and you learn that Lucio was so loud when he called for help that half the town already knows what's happened
He doesn't want to hurt you, so he guards you instead
He stays watchful at your bedside, sword resting by his hand, so that you know you're safe enough to fall asleep and heal
He'll only sleep if it's on the floor next to you, or in the same bed after you've told him multiple times that it won't hurt you
He'll happily tell you all kinds of tall tales to keep you distracted, and he practices all the patience he's developed with every friend and doctor that stops by to help instead of blowing up at them out of fear
All his anger has to go somewhere, though, so when an old connection from the heart district tells him that your attacker's been spotted, well
The only reason he doesn't kill them is because he thinks it would be too kind
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soapoet · 11 months
Text
what do you need to heal?
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oof, you all deserve a hug.
01.
Shufflemancy: SENSITIVE by MOTHICA
your feelings are really potent. you feel like a pressure cooker, constantly ready to burst open. emotions are both your playground and your graveyard, it seems. you feel everything strongly, but there is almost a sense of it never being enough. you yearn for something more, something bigger and better to latch on to. you've probably been accused of being toxic once or twice, and there may be a trail of broken lines of communication behind you as a result. but you have no ill intent. you have so much to give, and all you want is equal returns for your investments. interpersonal relationships especially feel lackluster to you.
here's a storyline that might resonate: you meet someone, platonic or romantic, and sparks fly. you're so invested, they take interest in you, you're each other's favourite person, two peas in a pod, partners in crime, a dynamic duo. every day you pour your heart and soul into this connection, drop the drawbridge and invite them inside your walls to experience you and your world fully. and with every day that goes by, slowly but surely, the honeymoon phase begins to fade. their efforts lessen, even when they say you're their whole world they never seem to find the time, they stop sharing, and feel intruded upon when you inquire and poke around to see what's up. you step back, thinking yeah, alright, i just need to chill, give them space. but that just makes things worse, doesn't it? you end up feeling abandoned and the grief for what the connection once was is agonising. every time you try to rekindle the flames they lash out. you're overwhelming, nosy, obsessive, they feel cornered. oh my god, you're so toxic! and then you fight. you fight for your feelings and the relationship. they just seem to fight you. you tell them they knew what they were getting themselves into. you showed them everything. shared the deepest, darkest corners of your castle. didn't they say that it's okay, that you're perfect as you are, flaws and all, and that they'd never leave? and then they still do.
you're not a monster. you're not trying to lure people in and make their lives miserable. you simply seek companionship. the kind that seems impossible to find these days. you understand that everyone has a life of their own, things to do, and that it's okay to need time and space. what you do have a problem with is the lack of trust. when you drop your armour you need reassurance that it's not in vain and that you are safe. that your vulnerability won't be taken advantage of. you don't want to worry about whether or not you let wolves inside your castle walls. what you need to do is learn a healthy dose of discrimination. really vet the people you let in. take things slowly, and allow things to happen without having to force it. let people come to you. wield your emotions in a constructive way. if you feel like a fraud trying to fit into the whole love and light spiel, then don't force it! you're incredibly powerful. learn the art of transmutation and try to make your emotions work for you instead of against you. it may be easier said than done, but if anyone can do it, it's you.
02.
Shufflemancy: Bridges by ALIKA
stop fooling yourself. you're really making yourself jump through way too many hoops. things don't have to be an obstacle course. there isn't some long, ever-changing list of things that need to happen before what you want can happen. it's like you're running around in a hamster wheel. chasing after what ifs, looking for signs and clues, and when something doesn't align then oops, there you go, right back to the drawing board. reconfiguring things, going back and forth, fine-tuning, undoing, scrapping everything and starting all over. reading your energy feels like i'm walking into a room with crumpled papers all over the floors. and when i look at them, your plans and ideas are so good! why have you cursed yourself into this space of false starts and stagnation?
because your head is full of doubt. your mind is like the static of an old tv screen. there is so much noise, buzzing around and it's so loud you're unable to think straight. there are so many distractions. you're being pulled in so many directions. everywhere except forward. you are so focused on that first step being absolutely flawless that you'll do anything but actually take the damn step. every time you gather yourself and tell yourself alright, it's go-time my dudes, you just stand there, or notice something that you just gotta fix real quick. and before you know it, you're doing all kinds of busy work. anything to make you feel better about not doing what you want to do and feel like you're at least making some contribution toward your dreams.
you heard there would be signs that you're on the right path or that your manifestations are working, and you took that personally. you see a sign, then look for confirmation that the sign really was a sign. then you tell yourself you need to stop actively looking for signs because then you won't recognise the real signs. but uh-oh, what if you were already doing that? does that mean that the sign you noticed was a false flag and you're just delusional and just out there fooling yourself? please give me a sign that— stop. sit down. cut the noise out and just breathe. you really need to start trusting yourself. you have a vision. a path forward. you got shit to do, things to achieve. stop checking the time, the mirror, the skies... just check yourself. still want what you want? great, you got it. have some faith in yourself. refocus your energy and try to stay present. it's okay to get distracted and it's normal to doubt, just don't let the doubts and distractions rule your present moment. the light has been green this whole time, so just go.
03.
Shufflemancy: Trauma by NF
no. that's two letters, but it feels wrong in your mouth, doesn't it? like it's too big or like it'll break something. when we're drowning there is a period known as 'voluntary apnea'. our instinct to not inhale water is stronger than our need to release the buildup of carbon dioxide that occurs when we hold our breath for too long. the brain can cause us to endure the increasing terror and physical pain because of this survival instinct. and it feels like your ability to say no is behind this kind of mental block too. when you do say no to things it almost feels apologetic, and is riddled with apologies and reassurance. you don't want to do this or that, but it's just today, maybe some other time, you'll check your calendar, assure them it's not like you don't care, you're just busy, you gotta go. you'll find any excuse that sounds reasonable when you don't have one. and for what? you don't need to explain yourself. no is a full sentence.
it really feels like you're on the outside looking in. you have a fear of not just missing out, but being left behind. it's like you've convinced yourself that in order to be worthy and good you need to please everybody. maybe in your past you've been betrayed, experienced neglect or really, truly, felt all alone and without support and guidance. so when you're around people you're on your best behaviour. you listen and you are eager to learn. you adopt people's hobbies or otherwise make an effort to be there for them. people come to you for advice, you're a shoulder to cry on, a problem solver, a good time. but when you get overwhelmed, your nerves get the best of you and you need someone to lean on, you feel like you shouldn't burden people. they have better things to do. maybe they wouldn't be able to help anyway, so why bother?
in many ways you feel like a ghost. not quite sure where the influences of other people and life circumstances end and where you begin. your boundaries are so blurry it's no wonder you've accepted so many concepts of yourself that it feels like the hand of cards you were dealt are masks instead of tools. you may need some time in isolation and solitude for a while. not to say farewell to the world and become lonely, but learn to really be with yourself and figure out who you really are and who you want to be. put yourself on the operating table and start carefully removing things that don't serve your well-being. you are whole all within yourself, and i promise that it's all complete and good and worthy of so much love. you don't need to be patchwork quilt made of concepts forced upon you by the world. you're allowed to be yourself and grow in exactly the direction and at the speed that you want. there's room here under the sun for you too.
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captainjacklyn · 1 year
Note
first year gang (+ grim if that's okay) reacting to yuu/mc getting heavily injured in front of them and losing lots of blood? (mostly from overblot)
it can be plantonic or romantic
Another request to go ! Thank you for requesting Anon, I'm so sorry it came out so late. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I loved doing it.
Content : You get heavily injured in a fight with another overblot, how do the first years individually react to such a devastating sight ?
Warning(s) : mentions of blood and injury, reader is gender neutral so they/them, it can be platonic or romantic whatever suits your taste, might have cussing ? idk. Anyways, have a fun time reading.
First years reacting to mc/yuu getting hurt :
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Ace Trappola
If I remember correctly, an insult was enough to make him worked up. He literally punched the living sh*t out of his dorm leader, so try imagining what would happen if you got physically injured.
His mind instantly snaps upon seeing you get hurt, he may sometimes act like a jerk. But no one hurts his best friend.
Especially you.
Loses his temper, will try to murder whoever is over blotting even if they're not mentally stable.
hell he isn't either, after they turn back to normal, he won't hesitate to slap them across the face and spit as many insults there is.
When you're brought to the school nurse, he isn't coming because he's not done with your attacker but Ace will shoot you an anxious glance.
Once you heal up, this guy will fucking scold you but he means good. For once you're not the mom of the group.
"What kind of idiot jumps right in front of strike ?! You're lucky we saved you or you would've been dead by now stupid-"
He's not nice about it cause you made him way too worried. He's supposed to be the one messing around, don't be so reckless especially if your life is at stake.
Doesn't mind fun but not the type of fun that's gonna get you killed.
"*sigh* just c'mere- Yeah don't ask why I'm hugging you, that answer is FAIRLY OBVIOUS !"
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Deuce spade
Deuce is one of the first to check up on you and your injury, if you're unconscious he's going to repeatedly call out your name and beg you to wake up.
He's panicking, and he knows that it doesn't help the situation. But fear quickly turned into anger by the time you were put to safety.
"You...HOW DARE YOU HURT THEM ?! YOU SICK BASTARD !"
There goes that guy, rest his soul cause getting killed by deuce is the exact opposite of he died peacefully in his sleep.
after a couple days, you would be fully recovered and you can bet this blue haired ex-delinquent will be all over you.
He'll scold you too but not as much as Ace, deuce is a sweet idiot and honestly I love him for it.
Deuce is trying his best but he can't help being mad at himself for not being able to protect you, you're his best friend/Lover !
You need to reassure him that you're fine and that's enough, he's glad you're trying to cheer him up but YOU'RE THE ONE WITH A RUPTURED SPINE- HOW THE HELL IS THAT FAIR ?!
"Repeat after me : I promise.." "Deuce this is stupid" "NO, say 'I promise..?" "...I promise..." "TO NEVER BECOME A HUMAN SHIELD"
"...."
"Just do it."
"...I promise I won't become a....human shield..?"
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Epel Felmier
Ok this man is loosing his temper. But like imagine the : you called him a girl temper, now reimagine that but then triple the anger.
Yup.
That attacker/overblot dude is dead, he's about to die.
Like Epel doesn't even need help he's already cowboying his way through- wait is that a damn lasso.
Destroying the whole area as if he was an active tornado just obliterating everything and everyone.
Epel is most likely to stand by this quote : "You mess with them/her/him, you mess with me."
Doesn't matter if you're just his friend or partner, that man has loyalty and he is going to tackle anyone in the stomach just for looking at you the wrong way.
He may look pretty but he is deadly, I can assure you that no need to test it.
He won't be panicking when you recover, he's just gonna be relieved you're ok.
Will probably pout a little cause you worried him so much but besides that he hopes that you won't pull a stunt like that again.
"I'm glad to see that you're doing alright.."
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Sebek Zigvolt
Ok this one. Is pissed.
He's not gonna let that offense go, you and wake-sama are placed on an equal pedestal so it means that if you get hurt then that means the only suitable punishment to the cause is d e a t h.
Crocodile Sebek goes BRRRRRRRR-
Proceeds to annihilate the bastard, like have some fucking mercy dude- I have never seen a scrope pounding this severe in my whole entire life.
yeah no, the victim isn't getting up after getting his balls turned into a size eleven sneaker.
Sebek is gonna give you those 4 hour lectures when you wake up and there is no escaping it cause you got a leg turned into mash potato.
"And so that is why you should NEVER put yourself in danger EVER again-"
"EPel please save me"
"Where do you think you're going ?!"
🎶RUN FAST FOR YOUR MOTHER, FAST FOR YOUR FATHER~ !!!
RUN FOR YOUR CHILDREN, FOR YOUR SISTERS AND BROTHERS 🎶
🎶LEAVE ALL YOUR LOVE AND YOUR LONGING BEHIND-!!
YOU CAN'T CARRY IT WITH YOU IF YOU WANT TO SURVIVE~🎶
THE DOG DAYS ARE OVER-ER !!!
Sorry I got carried away, I just love this song so much T_T.
Running through the halls like a one-legged track star as students just hear Sebek yelling from the other side of campus.
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Jack Howl
Ok he turns into big wolf boy the second he takes the sight of you getting hit and heavily injured.
He is going to eat that overbold guy alive, no questions asked.
He was baring his teeth before now he's full on destroying them into oblivion.
Man gets angry, growling was a warning until they crossed the damn line by putting you in danger.
"I WON'T FORGIVE YOU FOR THIS !"
Now it doesn't really matter wether he's your partner, best friend or some kind of family figure. Cause that man is guarantee the best guy to have around, like...LOOK AT HIM !?
he may act tough but he's a real softie that does his best to play fair and square.
No matter what you see him as, Jack is protective and looks after to you. Even more than you can do actually !
Once the fight is over, he's going to the nurse to check up on you.
When he sees that you're out of harms way he's gonna grumble a little bit.
"You really are reckless, don't pull a stunt like that again..Uh ?! No I wasn't worried ! You're strong, there is no way that kind of injury would be able to take you out anyway. But still...I'm glad to see you're alright."
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I know this isn't very good, I'm sorry for not being active as much these days but since it's now the holidays. I'll be posting a lot more with how much time I got !
Thank you for reading !
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bonny-kookoo · 9 months
Note
Ooo now I'm even more curious,
Bonny has the ilysib talked to each about their trauma and wounds that happened with their own past relationships? And if they're still healing from that or if it's just smth that's left in the past
I know it was kind of mention before with ocs parents and her relationship with them but I wonder is she ever experience smth similar in any of her romantic relationships
I love this couple and I love seeing then grow together 🫶🏼
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"Jungkookie- baby can you get the door please, I'm still naked!" You call out from the bathroom, and Jungkook calls back a simple affirmation that he's gonna do just that- by now definitely comfortable enough in both your home and with you to do these things.
"Huh? Who are you?" The woman in front of the door asks, face confused, before the man behind her looks over her shoulder.
"Do you live here?" He asks, and Jungkook tilts his head with a curious but suspicious frown on his face.
"I- somewhat. What do you need?" He asks politely, when the bathroom door opens.
"Who was it Koo-" you drift off, not finishing your sentence, and Jungkook can instantly feel the way you tense up in a defensive stance. "What do you want." You ask lowly like a predator warning it's enemy, and he can feel his skin become oddly cold.
He's never seen you like this.
"Checking up on you?" The man says, almost scoffs. "You never call. We didn't even know you have a boyfriend now." He accuses.
"Maybe I just don't want to annoy you with my stupidity." You bark back, gently placing your hand on Jungkook's side to push him slightly away from the door. "I'm alive, cool, now leave."
"We're your parents- we have a right to know what's going on in your life." Your mother says, eyes tearing up. Jungkook feels a bit bad for her. He doesn't know the situation after all.
"You had that right, you didn't want it." You shake your head. "Now go before I call the cops on you."
"You wouldn't do that. I raised you god damn-!" you father says, angrily, pointing a finger at you. You step back, bump into Jungkook's chest-
And then he feels it.
You're shaking, body trembling against his. And he's not sure what kind of instinctual behavior suddenly comes over him- but his hands find your shoulders, keep you close, before he reaches out for the door.
"I think it's best you leave. She clearly doesn't want you here." He politely tells them, and before they can say anything more, he shakes his head. "I will genuinely call the police to have you removed, please." He asks one last time, before he closes the door. The doorbell rings. Knocks are heard. You turn around and begin to cry in his chest.
He's not sure what must've happened between you and your parents to have such a strong reaction to it- bit it must've been bad, if you're this upset at just them visiting.
Now that he thinks about it, you never really tall about them at all.
"I'm sorry." You somewhat get out as you lean back from him on the couch, knocks still echoing. "They're not gonna leave." You sigh, wiping your face somewhat dry.
"Then we'll actually call the cops, no worries." He shrugs, when the knocking stops.
"You won't even call your own doctor's office to schedule an appointment." You huff, and he rolls his eyes before he laughs, pulling you back into his chest. "Got me all soft for you though, acting like a knight in shining armor and all.." you mumble, and he hums a reply simply, a hand on your shoulder carefully running up and down to soothe you. "I don't like them."
"I guessed as much." He chuckles, and you wiggle closer to him.
"My mom always said I don't put enough effort into myself. My appearance, my life, anything. And my dad always said I talk dumb and look like a whore." You quietly confess. Jungkook tilts his head in frustration.
"You think he's still out there?" He asks, and you lean back to look at him.
"Dunno?" You say. "Why?"
"No one calls my girlfriend stupid or a whore." He threatens, and you laugh. "I'm serious!" He defends, and you smile, leaning in to peck his lips.
"I know." You say, finally smiling again. "And that's soooo cute!" You tease, making him whine.
"I'm not cute, I'm your knight in shining armor!"
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via-l0ve · 8 months
Note
Hello! I've been binging your fics/imagines lately and I just can't get enough! I don't know if this was ever done before, but--
Could you do a general, platonic (perhaps mildly romantic, like how I see Dean kinda gushing over Y/N idk, your choice!) imagine on how the men (Sam, Dean, Castiel, maybe Crowley [which would be funny]) would react to Y/N being some kind of powerful angel, like that sits at a pretty high rank and has the power to do all sorts of stuff? Healing, destroying, anger being so destructive it could kill a human (but albeit a peaceful being). This angel would probably serve as a guardian to the Winchesters, or a superior to Cass or a complete surprise and maybe unlikely companion for Crowley? I imagine it'd be a scenario where they're saved last second during a massive fight, probably get to know er type deal. This sounds kind of cheesy as I ask someone else to write this but I hope it doesn't sound too weird, I almost wanna go anonymous HAHA. I know this is VERY specific but I don't wanna confuse you! It's something I wanna write out into a fic myself but the way you write would make it super interesting! :)
So sorry if this was too much, I'm very descriptive!
Angel. (SPN pref!) 🩷
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a/n: stop omg. this idea is so cool! also - thank you for the kind words!! i appreciate you so much!! i hope you enjoy this!
warnings: slightly romantic!!
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Dean:
Dean met you on a hunt
he was being himself and basically bleeding out, but he was still fighting
you, being in charge of the dink, had to come down and help out
when you appear, a bolt of white light strikes the ground and your voice projects through the atmosphere
“you will not hurt this man.” you say, hair blowing in the wind and eyes glowing
dean was flabbergasted, also a little scared, but also a little bit in love
eventually you just kill the entire vampire nest because they’re stupid and you turn to dean.
“are you okay?”
he’s even more confused because this angel just came down and slaughtered the threats to him and now they’re talking so.. nice.
you heal his wounds and boom. now he’s your friend
he follows you around like a lost puppy and also brags that he’s friends with not one, but two angels, and one is even more powerful and higher up than fucking CASTIEL.
as he gets to know you he knows how sweet you are and it inteigues him even more because - as i said, you’re a powerful angel who can kill anyone but you’re so nice to him, Sam, Bobby and Cas.
the first time he sees you angry he literally gets all red and falls for you
Sam:
You first met sam when he was basically bleeding out in a motel room
Dean had gone to get food and sam had been hiding a pretty nasty gash from him
so now he was sitting alone trying to patch himself up (and being unsuccessful)
so, you made your appearance and tried to keep him calm
you appeared and he saw you and went 👁️👄👁️
“it’s okay. i’m an angel. i will not hurt you.” you say softly, stepping towards him
sam is still a little wary but he lets you heal him
you press your fingers to his forehead and he’s all good (albeit a little scared hahah)
he always has the smuggest little smirk on his face when you get angry on his behalf
he likes the feeling of having such a powerful being watching over him all the time but it also makes him nervous because of… his past💀
addicts recover
Castiel:
When you came down from heaven to help the Winchesters and Castiel, he was happy to see you
he knew, despite rebelling from heaven, you wouldn’t judge him
he spends a lot of time near you
like, standing right next to you
i like to think that you have better “people skills” than him for whatever reason (it’s just funny) and he just kind of sticks to you ykwim
he thinks you’re so cool
he dosent step in to help you in fights because he knows you can handle it and kill anyone you want
he’s blushing and kicking his feet when he sees you🤭🤭🤭
absolute power couple if you guys got together like omg
but yeah
he always defends you if anyone says shit
he’s just such a cutie pie
Crowley:
you popped in when crowley was holding dean and sam hostage
you came into the room, eyes rolling already.
“let them go.” you said, voice sounding bored as you’d done this multiple times already.
crowley looks at you
“oh god, you again.” he scoffs
BUT he dosent even bother to argue and lets them go
which shocks the boys because that’s not like crowley
but he’s smitten for you
it’s giving enemies to lovers
but anyways
you guys have many encounters and end up talking a lot
crowley talks about hell and you talk about heaven
and he finds himself not hating you
and suddenly he wants to be around you more and learn about you and watch you be a badass angel
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emmitaaa4 · 3 months
Text
Addressing some fandom BS inconsistencies
Gwyn was shadow mommy, Az was shadow daddy, they were gonna have shadow babies with her extra super pliable bones.
I audibly chocked when I read this @nikethestatue (btw everything said in this post was on point). No but seriously this is how they sound, too many of them insisting that there is nothing wrong with basing the likelihood of a ship on who has the more suitable uterus to be with a man... cause supposedly they're just picking up on the hints SJM wrote for them? She likes babies for HEAs so ofc children are the end all be all of a relationship, plus there's absolutely no way that she could ever write an adoption plot SJM is literally adopted and has done it in other series. Selective reading strikes again.
A minimum amount of critical thinking would tell you that 1) the infamous *magical uterus change* scene was about nessian (& feysand), not about any ship; 2) if SJM had written Nesta changing Elain's uterus, it would have given too much away, not to mention 3) how disturbing/violating it would have been for Nesta to change her sister's reproductive anatomy WITHOUT HER CONSENT?! None of it makes sense narratively; my girl Nes would never, especially given the trauma they both suffered from having their bodily autonomy--and so much more--ripped away by the Cauldron.
This argument is so trivialized that I see it every other day on reddit/tiktok/*insert media app*, and yet elriels are the toxic side of the fandom? The ones whom people are allowed to insult, to ridicule for theories all made in good fun, the women that are villainized over a difference of opinion? Don't get me wrong, there's assholes on both sides and people keep calling one another variations of delulu (and the nastier personal attacks). But by painting this fandom-wide villain there is such a lack of accountability for the plethora of harmful talking points spread by other portions of the fandom. (I've been silently reading the anti-elain & anti-elriel tags for like a year, and I'm on tiktok. Yes, I have self-destructive tendencies).
Anyways.
I never understood either how people ever actually thought (or well still think) that gwynriel would happen BEFORE elucien?? It makes no sense logically, narratively, or in terms of characterization & the arc she's set up for Elain, Azriel, and Lucien. Yet it took one controversial bonus chapter for people to decenter Elain in her own story, that is make her choice of romantic partner--which SJM spent 3+ books setting up--Azriel's. It took one bonus chapter that soo many readers are still unaware of, to brush Elain off as a "sexual object" Az is using to distract himself until his therapist-extraordinaire Gwyn comes in and heals him all up. Because ofc she will: she's badass and not the "passive and weak and boring" Eplain (aka "Plant" or "brain dead gardener"), she fits the YA archetype of the spunky warrior-girl so she can handle his darkness, and SJM supposedly spent time fleshing her out because she wrote her as a LI for Azriel; she's made for him, she is what he needs to grow (I actually enjoyed Gwyn's character btw, just pointing out how silly it all sounds). “Next book is a love triangle between Elain/Az/Gwyn” “Elain will turn evil or is secretly evil”. So you're telling me that SJM would pit Elain & Gwyn against each other in a love triangle over a man... all because of a necklace that was not even mentioned once in the actual books? Please, let's be logical for a second.
All this because instead of reading the bonus chapter in the context of the books, some people are reading the books in the context of the bonus chapter. Which now that I think of it is probably why so many people mischaracterize Az the way they do--because yes we know enough of his character to know half of the stuff the fandom diagnoses him with is questionable. Azriel? Entitled incel x fuckboy hybrid (gotta be the first of his kind, minute slay ig)? Interesting tell me more. No joke I saw a semi-popular post on here where a gwynriel said they read the bonus WITHOUT HAVING READ ANY OF THE BOOKS. I'm sorry, ship wars are silly and believe it or not idc who ppl ship, but it makes it hard to take some of the things they say seriously.
All this to say that the fandom isn't even debating the right thing. If you consider everything SJM has said in her interviews:
(she's been planting seeds for Nesta & Elain's book since acomaf; she knows who she is writing the first 2 books about + is keeping things open for the 3rd one--with 5 different ship options--which automatically rules out "Elain will close the series"; she said she's doing research for Elain's book in the ACOFAS bonus & there's seeds for future bookS in acofas; all she said recently about her beloved *heroines* and the themes of fate/true love/choice she finds *very* interesting & wants to discuss)
and if you also consider all she's written in the actual books (elain's characterization + the overarching plot in general & how she fits into it), then it's pretty evident that Elain's book is next.
The question then would be who is the MMC / 2nd PoV in her book, aka would acotar 5 be an elucien or an elriel story? Because logically, gwynriel was always a consequence of elucien. I honestly do not understand how people don't see that.
Oh and they always think they're gagging elriels with the "obviously Azriel is the next MC" as if elriels aren't saying the same thing? And we're the ones twisting info and not making sense. It's just funny at this point.
---sidenote: I realize that this post generalizes some things, and I just wanted to say that I have interacted with lovely eluciens / people on either side of this headache of a ship war. My hard limit is Elain haters though... back off I say 🤺 BACK OFF 🤺
---sidenote 2: I would have written this as a reblog except im not entirely sure how tumblr works and I get no visibility from them rip.
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shortpplfedup · 1 year
Text
Ayan being a gremlin to Akk: accurate. Akk being pissy with Aye: also accurate. Getting together isn't a personality transplant operation; they just like kissing each other now they haven't become different people. And people also don't magically know how to be in a relationship, communication and compromise is required. We saw pretty much nothing of established-relationship-post-curse Akk and Ayan in the original series, they literally JUST got together. It's been what, a few weeks in-universe? Maybe a couple months max? Now that they're both starting to heal from their life traumas and out of the pressure cooker of the Suppalo situation and Ayan is reasonably confident that Akk isn't going to end it all, now we are seeing the part where they actually figure out how to be in a relationship with each other (well, some of the early calculus).
These two have ZERO clue how to navigate a relationship. Akk's repressed ass couldn't even acknowledge to himself that he had any kind of romantic inclinations towards anybody until basically moments ago. He is just starting to understand his needs in a relationship through his relationship with Ayan, a person he has never felt the need to people-please with, so yeah, he's salty and snapping. As for Ayan, he's learning that Akk isn't this way because of the circumstances or the environment, he's just like this. He cares about everything and everyone while Ayan cares about what and who he cares about and doesn't really give a rip about the rest of it. There is an intersection there, because what and who he cares about is Akk, but they haven't gotten to that intersection yet where they actually understand what the other person is REALLY asking for. Akk wants Ayan to care more and be less standoffish and more engaged. Ayan wants Akk to care less and be more self-protective and less self-sacrificing.
That general approach is also bleeding into the relationship. Akk wants Ayan to be softer with him (like he was when he was worried he was gonna hurt himself) and Ayan wants Akk to be tougher with him (like he was when he was worried he was gonna tear down everything). It's not an insurmountable problem, but it will require them to use their words, absorb the implications and deliberately alter their behaviours.
Akk's people-pleasing (Ayan's gripe is literally that Akk cares too much about others) and Ayan's self-centredness (Akk's gripe is that Ayan considers himself too much and others not enough) are canon. This is literally what brought them into each other's attention in the first place: Ayan doing whatever he wanted and Akk being pissed about it. Add in that Ayan enjoys riling Akk up for horny reasons and Akk softens whenever Ayan gets affectionate with him. Add in that Ayan has seen in 4k the extreme consequences of Akk's people-pleasing (the literal campaign of terror he rained on an entire school, lest we forget), just like Akk has seen the consequences of Ayan's self-centredness (Thua's anger at Ayan's hypocrisy of staying in while pushing others out).
They just like each other. They haven't become different people. And they now have to learn how to communicate and compromise because liking each other means they care about not hurting each other. Which is one of the themes of the special. One of the things @bengiyo says over and over again on @the-conversation-pod is DICK IS NOT MAGICAL IT DOES NOT FIX YOU. It's why we both bonded over loving drama about staying together more than drama about getting together. This is so intriguing to me, watching this play out, because this is the part romances tend to ignore, either because they end before they get here, or they gloss over here with a time skip. As somebody invested in the intricacies of long-term relationships and the compromises people make or don't make along the way, this is working all over for me.
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the-fluff-piece · 8 months
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Hiya, I’ve only just found your blog and I love your work🥰 would you mind writing a bit of a drama (i’m a drama queen🥲)? I’ve been thinking some misunderstanding like zoro being (unintentionally) popular with girls but one being extremely clingy to the point people, as well as the fem reader, think they are a couple. Female reader gets jealous and sad and Sanji comes to comfort her and Zoro sees that and gets the wrong idea and becomes jealous too. But they somehow find out the truth and blah blah romantic stuff confessions etc. I know it’s ridiculous but I live for the drama🥺 thanks in advance and i will understand if you don’t want to do it but I love ya anyway xx
Hiya dear reader,
Thank you for your kind words! I'm happy that you like my style!
I'm sorry it took so long, but I didn't want to post something unfinished XD I hope you don't mind me setting it before the time skip, I think water seven directly after enies lobby is a great location.
Drama is always good and that's a great setup - LET'S DO IT (got a little longer)
👉 masterlist stories
👉 masterlist headcanon
here's
Zoro has no fucking clue
You defeated CP9 and returned together with Robin to Water 7, where the crew got the chance to heal and relax for a few days.
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Together, you really showed it to the world government! Well, mostly the big hitters in the crew. Zoro saved you when it came to fighting, not that you minded it. Whenever you were in danger, you knew that he would show up and defeat whatever marine captain or sea monster was trying to kill you.
When you got the key and released him and Usopp from the cuffs, he flashed you a heartmeltingly handsome smile and proceeded to partake in the absolutely ridiulous sword duel that destroyed half the building - and than he fought against thousands of marines.
He really deserved a break. And a thank you. You had been aimlessly wandering through the streets of water 7 to find something for Zoro, a gift to thank him. And maybe show him how much you like him.
Eventually, you decided to get him a Magnum bottle of sake, enough for his big thirst. It was something he absolutely would love.
Pleased with your purchase, you walked back to your temporary shelter in water 7- but your heart almost stopped. You were already so attuned to his appearance, that you could have picked out that green hair in any crowd - Zoro was here. And he seemed to be moving fast. Trouble? That meat head always managed to find a fight, you better help him out.
The gathering crowd slowed you down almost immediately. You squeezed through to see Zoro fighting with some guy, who was no match for the formidable swordsman.
Putting on a real show, Zoro played with the amateur, who poked helplessly at the air as Zoro effortlessly moved around the battlefield. Drinking in the "Oh!" And "Ah!" From the surrounding crowd, a cocky smile spread over his face.
With his two swords crossed, he finally attacked and struck his opponent down with one blow.
The crowd cheered - a very female sounding cheer. You noticed a lot of girls streaming to him. They clung to his arms and praised his strength- what was going on?
A girl shouted: "He got the pantie thief! He's my hero!" In a ridiculously high pitched voice and ran towards a grinning Zoro.
Pantie thief - of course. You rolled your eyes and waited for the crowd to dissipate. And you waited, and waited. One of them seemed glued to Zoro's arm, giggling and throwing her long, blonde locks around.
"Hey Zoro, let's get back to the others" you tried to get him to leave with you.
"Nah. this girl here will thank me with some booze! Just go back without me." He waved you off while the girl promised him all he could drink.
Rolling your eyes even harder, you went back to the crew at the galley-la building and informed them of Zoro's absence.
"Good riddance!" Sanji muttered past his cigarette. "Want an éclair?" He offered, almost in the same breath but with suddenly heart-shaped eyes.
"YES" you shouted, hungry for some kind of comfort after Zoro just trotted off with a blonde haired beauty.
"Stupid mosshead!" You cursed as you angrily shoved the sweet treat into your mouth.
"Yes he is, if he did anything to you I will kick that guy to the moon!" Sanji chimed in.
"No it's okay." You muttered and continued to mope for the rest of the evening.
Hardly able to sleep, you heard Zoro stumble home at dawn, throwing himself into a corner and snoring almost immediately.
You hoped that it was done with that - until the next morning. You heard Sanji shriek in delight as the door opened: "Such a sweet beautiful girl, did you come to see me, my lady?"
You didn't hear the reply clearly, but a high female voice cooed something and you heard a loud thud as Sanji's body hit the floor, an expression of total horror on his face.
The girl from yesterday pranced past you as you knelt down next to the cook.
"It's horrible..." he hoarsely whispered, seemingly near death, "she's bringing the mosshead breakfast. That beautiful lady..." his eyes closed as he sighed the last half-sentence and with it, his will to live (for the moment).
Hot jealousy surged up again. You stomped to the table, where luffy was sleep-eating heaps and Zoro gingerly unpacked a giant sandwich, seemingly made entirely out of meat.
The blonde bimbo had parked her breasts on the table and watched Zoro with a dreamy expression as he wolfed down the sandwich, splattering sauce all over the place.
"Do you like it?" She asked in a melodic voice.
"Yeah, thanks" Zoro answered with a full mouth. He seemed very content. That ass.
She didn't leave afterwards. In fact, she basically moved in immediately, either hanging on Zoro's arm or sitting close to him, watching him with heart shaped eyes and complimenting his every breath.
She eventually informed the somewhat irritated rest of the crew that her name was Silk (while throwing her silky hair around) and that she stayed with Zoro. Since she didn't actually do anything bad and Zoro didn't seem to mind, everyone accepted or ignored it.
"Come on, snookums, it's so crowded here, let's go out" Silk tugged at his arm. "I know a great liquor place!"
"Yeah why not" he lazily followed her as she maneuvered him like a tugboat.
"Snookums?" you stared after them in disbelief.
Nami, meanwhile, died of hysterical laughter.
"Didn't think that a girl could tame him that much. He's totally whipped!" she laughed and slapped your back while you didn't understand the world anymore.
The sake you bought was still in your bag, still untouched. Maybe you should bring it back to the store.
It was evening, Zoro and his girl weren't back yet. You found yourself so irritated that you couldn't sleep, just like Sanji, who sat at the table and poured himself some wine.
As you sat next to him, he silently passed you a glass as well. He somehow managed to get from perfectly coiffed, full of energy and dressed to the nines to unshaven and disheveled in the course of a day.
"I know why I am upset...but what is it with you?" You ask him.
Two bloodshot eyes stared back at you.
"I can't believe Marimo...that filthy brute, with no style and no interest in women has a...a..." The end of his sentence was too much to bear for him, instead he took a nervous gulp of wine.
"And she's so....soo...prettyyyyy" he dragged out the last word like a pre-schooler in a tantrum.
You gently tapped your glass against his: "to us" you whisper.
"To...us?" He half asked and half repeated and he smiled.
One glass turned into two glasses, and like that the bottle was gone. Your only topic: how much Zoro and that girl sucked.
A new bottle was opened, and another. Soon, you didn't find enough things to hate Zoro for anymore, so instead you moved on to different topics. Sanji told you about growing up in the restaurant while you told him a few stories of your own. After the third bottle was emptied, you were both pretty drunk, and you didn't really remember much anymore.
You drifted off to an uneasy sleep, full of Zoro how he made out with the girl named Silk. How they had children and generally shoved their happiness into your face.
"Oi, wake up. Y/n, wake up!" You heard Zoro's angry voice above you as he tapped you with his foot.
"Wha...let me sleep marimo" you answered, swiftly adopting Sanji's language and inflection.
As you opened your eyes, the swordsman's towering frame took up your entire field of vision. With his crossed arms and grumpy expression, he looked intimidating as hell.
You stretched and realized that you had slept on the floor, leaning against Sanji, amidst a lot of pillows. Sanji must have brought them during the night to make you more comfortable. Now that's a man!
When you moved, Sanji's head fell into your lap, still sleeping, and he immediately began purring like a kitten. Zoro grabbed him by the collar and shook him awake.
"What the fuck YOU think you're doing?" He bellowed at his sleepy crewmate.
"Go and have your nosebleed somewhere else, you pervy cook!" He said as he threw Sanji down again -hopefully immediately regretting it because Sanji answered with a fiery kick.
Not even 5 minutes awake and already near a fight, you decided to crawl away to safety and make some tea.
As you set down with steaming cup in hand, you spotted the blonde girl coming towards you, wearing the same clothes as yesterday. Demonstrably, she sighed and commented "what a short night" showcasing her disheveled hair with a pout.
"Uh-hu" was all you could manage.
"You are his crewmate, are you not?" she asked, "how can you live with that manly man on one boat and not fall for him?"
"Yeah, it's a mystery" you answered sourly. If she only knew that you did - and he didn't care.
She continued to talk about something, but you decided not to listen. Instead, you focused on the fight going on outside now, where Zoro and Sanji shouted insults at each other.
"You hurt her feelings! I cannot ignore that!" Sanji screamed. "FLAMBÈ SHOT!"
"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, STUPID COOK!" Zoro answered among loud clashes.
Your head was aching too much, there was too much noise. You excused yourself and went outside - away from the fight - and sat at the pier. It was calm here. Just faint noises of fighting were in the background.
You thought about how childish those two were, always fighting about something. But you were one to talk, you were childish as well. Zoro or Silk had no way of knowing that they hurt your feelings. At least Zoro deserved an open apology. And his sake.
You sighed, already playing the conversation in your head. The waves crashed against the pier, it was really calm.
Too calm.
When you returned to the building, both Zoro and Silk were gone.
Sanji was at the stove, making breakfast.
"Zoro stormed off" he said flatly. "And Silk-chan followed, of course."
They didn't return for the whole day. Dusk came and there was still no sign of them.
It got late, evening turned to night and Zoro was still gone. It was time to have a talk, to let him know how you felt, and to clarify where you both stood. You packed the sake to finally give it to him and be the friend he deserved.
You made your way through the bustling streets of Water 7 once again, aimlessly walking and hoping to find Zoro. It was a lively city with people sitting outside and laughing late into the night. You didn't see the green hair anywhere, maybe they've gone to her place.
Your feet have taken you away from the people in the streets to side alleys, where everything was calm and dark. There were lots or piers looking out to the water where crews loaded and unloaded goods.
With relief, you spotted Zoro sitting on a wooden barrel near the water's edge, alone now, with an empty bottle of sake beside him. His expression was more somber than before, and he seemed lost in thought.
Taking a deep breath, you approached him, determined to have the conversation you had been avoiding. As you got closer, Zoro looked up and met your gaze, and you could see a hint of surprise in his eyes.
"Hey," you said softly, taking a seat beside him. "Mind if we talk?"
Zoro blinked and then nodded, a serious look on his face. "Sure, what's on your mind?"
You swallowed the lump in your throat and decided to be direct. "I am really happy for you, Silk seems to really like you." You paused, unsure where to go next.
"And I hope you're happy with the cook" he snorted.
"What?" You asked, surprised.
"The cook. And you. I wouldn't have thought..." His voice trailed off and he took the bottle again. Remembering that it was already empty, he threw it into the sea with a sigh.
"That goddamn cook with his nice words..." Zoro mumbled angrily.
"I am not with Sanji, silly" you told him.
"But you slept together...! On the floor!" He stuttered.
"We just fell asleep, nothing more." You said.
"I...I'm not with Silk either." He rubbed his head, "in fact, she was kind of unnerving."
"Than why be with her for days?" You asked.
"You know, it was nice to be appreciated for once. Silk gets it. You always call me stupid or silly." He shrugged.
"You stupid mosshead, everytime I call you stupid I mean that I like your stupid!" You rummaged in your bag for the Sake, "it means that you're adorable and cute and so, so unbelievably, awesomely stupid! And I do appreciate you. You save me all the time. I bought this for you, as a thank you" You gave him the extra large bottle of Sake.
Zoro's brows furrowed as the gears started turning in his head. "I didn't realize... I mean, I didn't think...why did you never say so before?"
"Don't know. You never really cared about anything besides swords and fighting." You shrugged.
"I...I do care, I just...I'm not so good with words." He held the bottle in his hands like he didn't know what to do with it.
He swallowed and looked at you. "You know, I think you're stupid, too. Really silly. The silliest person I've ever met." He laughed and you chimed in.
You felt a rush of relief and happiness wash over you. Maybe Zoro wasn't as clueless as you had thought. Perhaps he had his own way of expressing his feelings.
"Just to be sure...stupid means I like you" He whispered and invited you to sit with him. When you hopped on the barrell, he put his arm around you.
As you sat there by the water's edge, the two of you talked late into the night, sharing stories, laughter, and sake. The noise of the world around you faded into the background as you discovered a deeper connection with Zoro, one that went beyond the chaos of battles and adventures.
And in that moment, you realized that sometimes, the most meaningful conversations happened not in grand gestures, but in the quiet moments shared between two people who cared for each other deeply.
-----
Epilogue (because I don't want to leave Silk's character as the only evil female catty villain)
Zoro and you eventually made it back to the company house and shocked everyone, first and foremost poor Sanji, with your new found closeness. It would be a long road until you could say the l-word to each other, but whatever your now relationship was, it was good.
It would still be a few days until you could sail from water 7 and you enjoyed the commodities of the city, walking through the busy streets, window shopping.
A store with beautiful cloth caught your eye and you entered. You looked at the exquisite goods when you heard a shop clerk approach "can I help you?"
"No I'm just look-AHHH" your voice and face must have derailed when you found yourself looking at an equally shocked Silk. A moment of awkward silence followed where you saw that her eyes were swollen and she looked really tired.
"Uhm, hi Silk, how are you?" You stammered.
"You know. Not so good" Silk looked unnerved. "What do you want?"
"I didn't know you worked here" you were caught off guard. But now that Zoro was with you, the anger against her seemed childish and mean.
"I'm Sorry if I was mean to you before" you said, surprising the girl, "I was unfair."
"No, don't. I was...overreacting, too. I'm sorry" She said thoughtfully. "He didn't stop talking about you. Really annoying, like he was hung up on you. That's why I was so pushy" Tears pooled in her eyes again.
Helpless, you tried to comfort her.
"Don't...he's just a stupid, stupid man" you told her.
"I know. That's why I liked him" she said, voice breaking.
You guessed that you weren't the best person to comfort her now, so you decided to leave.
"I'm Sorry. I should go now" you said.
"Yeah. Bye" She forced a smile and waved.
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vgilantee · 1 year
Text
love lost {neteyam sully}
neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan x fem na'vi!reader
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requested: n/a (well... kind of. i pitched the idea to julie and she encourages me too much <;3)
words: 4.0k (this is... double the length of what i had planned oop)
a/n: the way of water spoilers i stg if you haven't watched the movie you don't get to bitch about spoilers if you read this fic listen. listen i love neteyam so much. and as much as i would like to write a canon variance fic, i also have fun writing angst. my forte is more hurt/comfort and "angsty but there will be fluff and a happy ending" because i'm a softie and a romantic but sad angst is still fun to write
warnings/tags: hurt/no comfort, implied doing the dirty, mating (sfw), death, grieving/mourning, depression symptoms, implied suicidal ideation, reader and neteyam are about 18/19 because that's how old i thought he was when i watched the movie, mostly canon compliant (whoops), SPOILERS, no proofreading we die like neteyam men
pronouns: she/her
na'vi translations:
oeyä - my (possessive) narlor - beautiful (visually) muntxa si - mate / marry yawne - beloved
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From a young age, it was clear that you would spend the rest of your life by Neteyam’s side. He was your best friend, the first person to treat him as just another kid and not the first born son of the olo’eyktan. 
As you grew together, the way you felt about each other seemed to grow in sync, from entirely platonic best friends, to teenagers who would sneak out of chores to kiss in the forest. One day, while leaning against his chest and feeling his fingers play with the beaded ends of your braids, he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, whispering into your skin.
“Once we have finished the rites, I want to be yours,” your breath hitched at his words, “forever.” You blinked, twisting to look up at him with wide eyes. “If you’ll have me.” You rolled your eyes, leaning up to kiss his jaw.
“Of course I’ll have you.” Neteyam broke into a wide  smile, as if for a moment he expected you would say anything else. “In this life and the next.” If you were told as a child, that at sixteen, just days before he made his first kill, that you and Neteyam would be promising to be each other’s mates, you would have laughed them off.
Now, you were beaming at him while sat on his lap, pressing kisses to his mouth and cheeks, eliciting laughter from him as he fell back, arms wrapped around your waist. 
Your parents and his had all apparently known of his plans to propose to you that evening, as they were all waiting for you in the Sully family hut as you arrived, excited that your families would become one. As Kiri swatted Lo’ak for throwing his hands in the air with a loud exclamation of ‘finally’, Mo’at guided you away from the crowd.
“Once you begin your rites, I shall teach you to use and amplify your connection to Eywa.” Her eyes were soft as she rested her hands on your shoulders. “I believe you shall become a strong Tsahik.” You thanked her with a bow, grateful that she would so willingly teach you and flattered at her compliment.
Time seemed to move both too fast and not fast enough over the next year and a half as you both completed your rites and became adults of the clan. Like his father, Neteyam became one of the greatest Omaticaya warriors, proudly taking his place at the olo’eyktan’s side. But however strong and fearless he became, his eyes always softened as he looked at you, an impatience within him to finally have you as his official mate, to be able to say he is yours entirely. 
Like Mo’at told, your connection to Eywa grew, able to understand her guidance with ease. Quickly, you learned that your favourite part of being the future Tsahik was healing. Being able to help those in your clan that were injured or unwell was always rewarding. And despite her being your personal guide and teacher, you were extremely honoured every time Mo’at invited you to assist in ceremonies with Eywa in front of the clan. 
Neteyam’s ceremony was performed around a month after your own, and still, he waited a week to ask you again to be his mate.
With his fingers easily weaved between your own, he guided you toward the bioluminescent clearing where he had first proposed. (And where, two short years before that, you had shared your first kiss). Neteyam held both of your hands, close enough that you could count the freckles scattered across his face; not that you hadn’t done so many times before. 
“I know I have already asked you this,” his voice was soft and nervous as he spoke, “but I want to ask again.” As he drew in a slow, shuddered breath, you leaned up and pressed a kiss beside his mouth. “Will you be my mate? Would you honour me with allowing me to be yours forever?” Your eyes watered, crying despite knowing what he was going to ask, and you nodded with a smile. But still he waited, wanting to hear you say it. 
“Neteyam, yes. I would love to be your mate.” He let out a sigh of relief, quick to drop your hands to grab your face and kiss you. You smiled against each other’s mouths, hands on each other and pulling each other as close as you physically could.
His hands slide down your body and grasp the underside of your thighs, lifting you so your legs could wrap around his waist. With his mouth never leaving yours, Neteyam carefully sat down and rested you on his lap, the ground lighting up under him. 
“You are so breathtaking.” He whispered against your lips and you pulled away with a flustered laugh, forehead rested against his. Neteyam was never shy about complimenting you, but somehow his words never failed to cause your heart to skip and the tips of your ears to warm. 
“Oel ngati kamele, Ma Neteyam.” You ran your fingers over his bicep causing goosebumps to raise as you spoke with a sigh.
Wordlessly, you reached up behind you to grab your braid that safely held your queue, pulling it over your shoulder and dragging your fingers down to the end. The soft tendrils of your queue reached for him, yearning for him just as your heart did. Neteyam mirrored your movement, bringing his queue around, and held it just in front of your own. Your eyes flicked up from your queues to meet his eyes. 
Although you had loved each other since you were children, you were both still nervous that the other would change their mind. 
“I am yours.” You asserted. Neteyam dropped his head forward to press your foreheads together again.
“Yours. I have always been yours.” 
As your queues entangled, you sucked in a short breath, body relaxing as you watched his pupils dilate. Your heart began to race as your breaths began to match his, eyes falling closed. After years of promises and soft kisses in the dark, your souls were entwined and could never be separated.
---
You squeezed Neteyam’s hand as Tarsem’s hand dropped against Jake’s chest in a fist, cementing the change in leader and the end of Jake’s reign as olo’eyktan. The Suli Tseyeyk’itan family were leaving the clan as sky people threatened to hunt them. Revenge on Jake for something that happened nearly two decades ago. Neteyam had offered to let you stay with the clan while he left with his family. But you refused, reminding him that you were his mate, by his side forever. And if his family was in danger, you were included in that. 
Neteyam pulled you up behind him onto his ikran and you easily wrapped your arms around his waist, head resting on the back of his shoulders. It was a position that you had been in before, taken on many flights by your mate from the day that he bonded with his flying beast. 
But the pit in your stomach still reminded you of how different this would be. You were leaving your clan and the only family and life you had ever known. You knew that you would follow Neteyam to the ends of Pandora, but the change was still scary. You had no way of knowing what was to come with leaving your home, you had no idea what your new one would look like. Neteyam reached down and rested his hand on your thigh, giving it a squeeze as his ikran took off. 
No two na’vi described the effects of mating the same, Eywa giving each couple a different way of connecting and understanding each other. For you and Neteyam, it seemed that it had given you both the ability to understand the deep emotions of each other. You could tell when he was stressed about the pressures of his future title and he could tell when your anxiety sunk deep into your bones. It was as if you could feel him in the depths of your being, an overlay on the edge of your soul. 
So he knew, as you pressed your chest against him and felt the rush of the wind whistling past his ears, that you were afraid of what was to come. But with his hand pressed safely against your thigh, the warmth spreading from where the skin met, it reassured you that whatever happened he would be by your side and making things a little less scary. 
---
Neteyam always asserted that you were the most beautiful being he had ever seen. Even as a child, there was something about you that made him smile and desperate to hear your laugh. You had swum together many times in the various ponds around the Home Tree and Ayram alusing, but watching you rise out of the ocean, flicking water out of your braids with a shake and laughing with Tsireya, he could swear that he fell in love with you all over again. 
“Bro,” Lo’ak smacked his chest, bringing his attention back to their ilu training, “she’s already your mate, you can stop the lovesick staring.” Neteyam hit him back, looking back over at you to see your attention already on him. You sent him a soft wave, which he happily returned with a smile.
--- 
Despite Jake’s best attempt at keeping his family safe and keeping the war away, the need for vengeance from a man who was supposed to be long dead was too strong. All too quickly the sky people in their boat with their machines that killed tulkun with ease arrived.
You held onto the ilu tightly as you all raced to catch up with Lo’ak, the ocean spray whipping at you. You knew it was dangerous, leaving Awa’atlu, it was stupid and reckless but Lo’ak was determined to warn the tulkun he had bonded with. 
You watched in awe as the giant creature rose from the ocean, eagerly greeting Lo’ak, who began to panic once noticing a red spear-like tracker in the beast’s shoulder. You wasted little time, standing up on the ilu and diving into the water, swimming over to help the boy pull the tracker out. Neteyam was close behind you, and he helped pull up the Metkayina teens who had come with you. 
You heard Lo’ak radio their father while Kiri and Tuk climbed onto the tulkun and finally, as the sky people boat rounded the rocky bluff, the six of you pulled the tracker out.
“Go that way, I’ll draw them off.” Neteyam ordered, holding the tracker. As you opened your mouth to rebut, he cut you off. “Go with Tsireya. I’ll be okay.” You huffed at him, but obliged, swimming beside the girl and grabbing hold of her ilu’s saddle. 
---
You held onto the ilu as Lo’ak raced towards the rocky island with Neteyam leaning against him. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him, the way he wheezed with each breath. There was no way to explain it, but you could feel a heat blooming in your chest. You hadn’t seen him get shot, having been with Tsireya after she escaped the large ship, but you immediately knew, your mated connection through Eywa causing a phantom pain. 
You could only watch as Spider and Tsireya guided Neteyam up to Jake, who helped them pull him onto the rocks. Jake rolled him onto his side to check for wounds before he laid him back. For a moment, he looked between you and Lo’ak who kneeled beside Neteyal, but quickly chose to take Lo’ak’s hands and had him apply pressure. 
As Neteyam gasped for breath, you felt like you couldn’t catch your breath either. With shaky hands you took his, lowering yourself down so you could hold it to your mouth, staring up at him with glassy eyes. 
His breaths grew shorter, more panicked, as Neytiri landed her ikran and fell to her knees between you and Lo’ak. Jake held his face as he reassured him that it would be okay, and you felt like your throat was closing. Then everything stopped, and Jake pulled his hand away from Neteyam’s cheek.
Everything sounded muffled, like you were underwater or had cups over your ears. You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. It felt as though your lungs stopped taking in air and like someone was squeezing your heart. You couldn’t hear what Neytiri was saying as she shook Neteyam’s shoulders, you could only hear the anguish in her voice. You felt it in your chest as she screamed and Jake pulled her to his chest. You looked over as the sounds around you echoed to see Lo’ak staring down at his red-stained hands. 
You rocked on your knees, internally pleading with Eywa to wake you up, give you a sign that this was a nightmare and the emptiness in your chest was a horrid lie. You didn’t bother wiping away any of your tears, barely noticing them as they rolled down your cheeks and met with the back of Neteyam’s hand, which you hadn’t moved from your lips in the hopes that it would twitch, that he would be alive. 
Then, all at once, sound returned. And you screamed. Pained and desperate, your voice cracking. You dropped his hand and collapsed down into Neteyam’s chest, pleading with Eywa to let his heart start beating again. You could hear voices, Jake and Neytiri’s, but what they were saying didn’t register. All you could focus on as you sobbed was the hollow, empty feeling deep in your chest. You let out a pained wail as you sat up, turning to Jake as you felt his hand rest on your shoulder. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but closed it again, instead choosing to give you a soft, sad look. 
You were left alone on the rocks with Neteyam as the others left to return to the ship and save the Sully daughters. You sat beside him cross-legged, and carefully pulled his head into your lap as if trying not to wake him from sleep. As gently as you could, you wiped away the blood staining his skin, wanting to erase all evidence that he was hurt, then you ran your fingers over his face, pushing his braids to the side and wiping away water and tears (both his and your own) from his star-speckled cheeks. Once you were satisfied, you gently closed his eyes.
Neteyam was always so beautiful as he slept, and you always loved the mornings when you would wake up before him leaving you able to roll over and stare at his peaceful expression. He would always get embarrassed when you told him he was pretty when he slept, the tips of his ears flushing pink. 
“Ma Neteyam. Oeyä narlor muntxa si.” You pressed your lips to his forehead while you whispered to him. “Oeyä yawne. Please, come back to me. I cannot do this without you, I cannot live the rest of my life without you. You were supposed to be by my side forever.” You hiccuped as a sob broke out of you. You leaned back, staring up at the sky. “Great Mother, please. Please, do not take him from me, Great Mother.” You continued to sob and plead with Eywa and Neteyam’s heart as the boat exploded and a fire broke out. 
The yellow-orange light reflected in your eyes and the tears that stained your cheeks. You barely registered the warmth, unable to feel without Neteyam. 
---
You swam with the Sully family, close to Jake and Neytiri as they carried Neteyam’s body toward the Metkayina’s cove of ancestors. You had no idea whether the salted damp permanently on your cheeks was your tears or the ocean as the two had long-since become one and the same. You barely ate, you barely spoke. Everything felt as though you were fighting quicksand, too much effort for you. 
Jake and Neytiri had told you that you could swim his body down with them, but you refused, knowing that if you did, it was unlikely you would be able to bring yourself back to the surface without him. 
You and Lo’ak stayed by each other’s side, your hand holding his in a desperate attempt to not take in a breath of water. He held out his other hand toward his brother, while you squeezed your fist to your chest hoping the pinch of your nails into your palm would let you feel more than just numb. 
The glowing anemone reached out to Neteyam, pulling him down and into its warmth. His energy was being returned to Eywa. As the glow absorbed him you let out a sob, realising that he was gone. Your mate, the man who promised he would be by your side forever, was gone and had left you alone with a tightness in your throat and feeling as though there was part of your soul missing. 
Once you made your way back to your marui, you returned to the place you had been laying since you returned to Awa’atlu after being separated from Neteyam; the mat you had shared with Neteyam in the corner and wrapped in the blanked you had brought with you from your home with the Omatikaya clan, the blanket that still smelled so much like your mate. 
Every time you closed your eyes, Neteyam was there with his wide eyes and bright smile. You could still hear his laugh and feel his touch on your skin as you fell asleep. As you slept, you dreamt of the life you were supposed to have with him, by his side as you grew old together, starting your own family that would share the way he smiled and that look he got when he was flying on his ikran. 
You let out a sob and it broke Neytiri’s heart to hear as she passed by. She had seen the way her mother suffered after her father’s death, knowing that the bond of a mate left the living feeling less than themselves. And she herself had nearly lost her Jake once, and that pain was all consuming. Knowing that pain and mixing it with the grief she felt over losing her son, she could only imagine how you felt, so young and without your mate. 
Silently she entered, bowl of food in her hand. Neytiri knew you hadn’t eaten all day, and you were still a part of her family. She slowly crouched beside you and you jolted when you felt her hand on your shoulder. You sniffed, nose still blocked from the crying that never seemed to end, and looked down at the food she offered. You shook your head, having no appetite. Food would not solve the feeling that someone had opened your chest and removed your heart, the only solution to that was buried with the ancestors. 
“My sweet,” her words were soft, and you looked up at her with teary eyes, “are you ready to go to the Spirit Tree?” In the weeks since his death, Neytiri and Jake asked you this question in variation every day, hoping that seeing him in Eywa would ease your grief. They had learned quickly that saying Neteyam’s name visibly broke your already shattered heart even further, even more than the question itself. Neither were sure how long it would take until you were ready, but both did their best to keep you afloat in your grief.
Every time you thought of him, it felt as though you had breathed in water, your lungs heavy and your throat tight. Your breaths came in heaves, every inhale an effort against the thick air of loss. It was rare you were seen outside of your marui, the darkness within keeping you captive.
But you surprised Neytiri when you slowly shrugged off the blanket and nodded. She blinked down at you, but quickly offered you her hand. You took it, accepting her help in pulling you to your feet, the weight on the unused limbs causing you to wobble slightly. 
“I’m afraid.” Your voice was small, scratched from your tears and it’s lack of use. 
“Of what?” Neytiri left a comforting hand on your back, knowing that you may collapse into your consuming grief. 
“That the spirit with Eywa is from before we mated.” That was half true. 
After Jake and Neytiri returned from the Spirit Tree, Jake had told you that the Neteyam he saw was from when he was younger. If you saw that version, he may not even know that you were together at all. 
She hummed as your eyes itched. Neytiri knew you were hiding from her, and while she didn’t want to force your words, she wanted you to know that there was nothing to be ashamed of when it came to expressing your grief.
“And that I’ve forgotten his face.” That confession is what broke you, a whimpered sob breaking from your throat. “I see him everywhere and in everything. I see him when I sleep and I hear him when it’s quiet. But what if the face I remember isn’t the right one.” Neytiri stopped walking and guided you toward her in a hug. You cried freely as her hand ran circles on your back.
She didn’t need to speak, her presence enough. She was, in human terms, your mother-in-law, and she took that very seriously. You were her child, the mated soul of her son. Neytiri would protect you in every way she could and that included keeping you safe from self-destructing in your grief and comforting you in your fears. 
You sucked in a shuddered breath and pulled yourself away from her, apologising for your tears that stuck to her skin. Neytiri waved you off and let you choose the direction to continue in: either back to your marui or toward the Spirit Tree.
---
You sucked in a deep breath before bending at the waist and swimming down toward the glowing tendrils of the Metkayina clan’s Spirit Tree. The cool glow reflected off your skin and you squeezed your eyes closed as you reached behind you and took hold of your braided queue. 
Eywa, please. Let me see My Neteyam again.
You were home again. Back in the deep forest, feet padding along the glowing moss. You pushed aside the familiar branches that revealed the clearing. Your clearing. The place of your first kiss, where he proposed, where you mated. 
You looked around, already tearing up again (a seemingly constant state for you) at being home, when the sound of a pebble bouncing along the water met you. Your ears flicked toward the sound, and your head quickly followed.
Squatting by the pond, arm still extended from the throw, was Neteyam. You let out a short, shuddered breath at the sight of him, and you saw his ears flick. 
He turned, eyes bright and smile warm, his chest showing no sign of the wound that took him from you. Neteyam was exactly as you saw him when you closed your eyes.
“Ma y/n!” At the sound of his voice, the tears broke free and his face dropped, immediately rushing over to you and bringing his hands to your upper arms. “Yawne, what’s wrong?” You shook your head, not wanting him to worry about you. He brought one hand to your chin and you leaned into it. 
“I’m just-” your voice cracked, “I’m so happy to see you.” He tilted his head with a soft smile, leaning down to press his forehead against your own. 
“I’ve missed you.” You felt his breath on your lips and more tears rolled down your flushed cheeks, though they were quickly wiped away by his thumb. You tilted your head to kiss him, ignoring the saltiness of the tears that stuck to your lips. 
“I don’t want to leave you.” Your voice was wet with tears, and Neteyam leaned back to look at you.
“Yawne, I am always with you.” You shook your head but he continued to speak. “But you cannot stay here forever. Not yet.” Neteyam kissed you slowly, pouring out the love that he held for you and making up for the kisses you had missed since his death. 
You opened your mouth to ask why not, but you felt a pain in your lungs. A pain that pulled you away from Neteyam and back to the ocean as your body begged for breath. 
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