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joycrispy · 8 months

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Awhile ago @ouidamforeman made this post:

This shot through my brain like a chain of firecrackers, so, without derailing the original post, I have some THOUGHTS to add about why this concept is not only hilarious (because it is), but also...

It. It kind of fucks. Severely.

And in a delightfully Pratchett-y way, I'd dare to suggest.

I'll explain:

As inferred above, both Crowley AND Aziraphale have canonical Biblical counterparts. Not by name, no, but by function.

Crowley, of course, is the serpent of Eden.

(note on the serpent of Eden: In Genesis 3:1-15, at least, the serpent is not identified as anything other than a serpent, albeit one that can talk. Later, it will be variously interpreted as a traitorous agent of Hell, as a demon, as a guise of Satan himself, etc. In Good Omens --as a slinky ginger who walks funny)

Lesser known, at least so far as I can tell, is the flaming sword. It, too, appears in Genesis 3, in the very last line:

"So he drove out the man; and placed at the east of the garden of Eden Cherubims, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree of life." --Genesis 3:24, KJV

Thanks to translation ambiguity, there is some debate concerning the nature of the flaming sword --is it a divine weapon given unto one of the Cherubim (if so, why only one)? Or is it an independent entity, which takes the form of a sword (as other angelic beings take the form of wheels and such)? For our purposes, I don't think the distinction matters. The guard at the gate of Eden, whether an angel wielding the sword or an angel who IS the sword, is Aziraphale.

(note on the flaming sword: in some traditions --Eastern Orthodox, for example-- it is held that upon Christ's death and resurrection, the flaming sword gave up it's post and vanished from Eden for good. By these sensibilities, the removal of the sword signifies the redemption and salvation of man.

...Put a pin in that. We're coming back to it.)

So, we have our pair. The Serpent and the Sword, introduced at the beginning and the end (ha) of the very same chapter of Genesis.

But here's the important bit, the bit that's not immediately obvious, the bit that nonetheless encapsulates one of the central themes, if not THE central theme, of Good Omens:

The Sword was never intended to guard Eden while Adam and Eve were still in it.

Do you understand?

The Sword's function was never to protect them. It doesn't even appear until after they've already fallen. No... it was to usher Adam and Eve from the garden, and then keep them out. It was a threat. It was a punishment.

The flaming sword was given to be used against them.

So. Again. We have our pair. The Serpent and the Sword: the inception and the consequence of original sin, personified. They are the one-two punch that launches mankind from paradise, after Hell lures it to destruction and Heaven condemns it for being destroyed. Which is to say that despite being, supposedly, hereditary enemies on two different sides of a celestial cold war, they are actually unified by one purpose, one pivotal role to play in the Divine Plan: completely fucking humanity over.

That's how it's supposed to go. It is written.

...But, in Good Omens, they're not just the Serpent and the Sword.

They're Crowley and Aziraphale.

(author begins to go insane from emotion under the cut)

In Good Omens, humanity is handed it's salvation (pin!) scarcely half an hour after losing it. Instead of looming over God's empty garden, the sword protects a very sad, very scared and very pregnant girl. And no, not because a blameless martyr suffered and died for the privilege, either.

It was just that she'd had such a bad day. And there were vicious animals out there. And Aziraphale worried she would be cold.

...I need to impress upon you how much this is NOT just a matter of being careless with company property. With this one act of kindness, Aziraphale is undermining the whole entire POINT of the expulsion from Eden. God Herself confronts him about it, and he lies. To God.

And the Serpent--

(Crowley, that is, who wonders what's so bad about knowing the difference between good and evil anyway; who thinks that maybe he did a GOOD thing when he tempted Eve with the apple; who objects that God is over-reacting to a first offense; who knows what it is to fall but not what it is to be comforted after the fact...)

--just goes ahead and falls in love with him about it.

As for Crowley --I barely need to explain him, right? People have been making the 'didn't the serpent actually do us a solid?' argument for centuries. But if I'm going to quote one of them, it may as well be the one Neil Gaiman wrote ficlet about:

"If the account given in Genesis is really true, ought we not, after all, to thank this serpent? He was the first schoolmaster, the first advocate of learning, the first enemy of ignorance, the first to whisper in human ears the sacred word liberty, the creator of ambition, the author of modesty, of inquiry, of doubt, of investigation, of progress and of civilization." --Robert G. Ingersoll

The first to ask questions.

Even beyond flattering literary interpretation, we know that Crowley is, so often, discreetly running damage control on the machinations of Heaven and Hell. When he can get away with it. Occasionally, when he can't (1827).

And Aziraphale loves him for it, too. Loves him back.

And so this romance plays out over millennia, where they fall in love with each other but also the world, because of each other and because of the world. But it begins in Eden. Where, instead of acting as the first Earthly example of Divine/Diabolical collusion and callousness--

(other examples --the flood; the bet with Satan; the back channels; the exchange of Holy Water and Hellfire; and on and on...)

--they refuse. Without even necessarily knowing they're doing it, they just refuse. Refuse to trivialize human life, and refuse to hate each other.

To write a story about the Serpent and the Sword falling in love is to write a story about transgression.

Not just in the sense that they are a demon and an angel, and it's ~forbidden. That's part of it, yeah, but the greater part of it is that they are THIS demon and angel, in particular. From The Real Bible's Book of Genesis, in the chapter where man falls.

It's the sort of thing you write and laugh. And then you look at it. And you think. And then you frown, and you sit up a little straighter. And you think.

And then you keep writing.

And what emerges hits you like a goddamn truck.

(...A lot of Pratchett reads that way. I believe Gaiman when he says Pratchett would have been happy with the romance, by the way. I really really do).

It's a story about transgression, about love as transgression. They break the rules by loving each other, by loving creation, and by rejecting the hatred and hypocrisy that would have triangulated them as a unified blow against humanity, before humanity had even really got started. And yeah, hell, it's a queer romance too, just to really drive the point home (oh, that!!! THAT!!!)

...I could spend a long time wildly gesturing at this and never be satisfied. Instead of watching me do that (I'll spare you), please look at this gif:

I love this shot so much.

Look at Eve and Crowley moving, at the same time in the same direction, towards their respective wielders of the flaming sword. Adam reaches out and takes her hand; Aziraphale reaches out and covers him with a wing.

You know what a shot like that establishes? Likeness. Commonality. Kinship.

"Our side" was never just Crowley and Aziraphale. Crowley says as much at the end of season 1 ("--all of us against all of them."). From the beginning, "our side" was Crowley, Aziraphale, and every single human being. Lately that's around 8 billion, but once upon a time it was just two other people. Another couple. The primeval mother and father.

But Adam and Eve die, eventually. Humanity grows without them. It's Crowley and Aziraphale who remain, and who protect it. Who...oversee it's upbringing.

Godfathers. Sort of.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens 2 #crowley #aziraphale #good omens meta #I have no idea if I've made a coherent point here but I'm tired of this being in my drafts; RAW FEELINGS IT IS #it's about being sent to destroy and instead staying to love and protect and nurture I'M CRAZY I'M CRAZY RAAAAAAAGGHHHH #gnu terry pratchett

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 5 months

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Do it for Us | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: Mr. Jeon has got your mind all mixed up and you don't have the strength left to say no. Pairing: fem!reader x Father in Law Jungkook Word Count: 2.3k Warning: Yändere sumt, manipulation into cheating, suggestive and explicit language and an excessive amount of crying lol a/n: This is part two of Do it for Him requested by @coralmusicblaze I hope you guys end up liking it! I got so many new followers and notes after the first part so thank you so much!

As my lips move against his I can't help but let the tears continue to fall. "It's okay love, there's no need to cry" he says pulling back a bit and brushing a few of them off my cheek while studying my features. "I wish you wouldn't cry but you really do look gorgeous when you do, I'll have you crying for other reasons soon though, don't worry" he says caressing the side of my face before taking my hand and leading me out of the room. My whole body cringes at his words but I follow him blindly nonetheless. The tears never ceasing while my heart breaks with every step we take.

Crossing the doorway into the bedroom I share with my husband I stop dead in my tracks, the guilt overcoming me, the gravity of what I'm about to do finally sinking in. "Mr. Jeon I don't want to do this anymore" I say trying to wipe the tears off of my face, proving useless as they continue to fall evermore. "Darling we're already half way there, let me take care of you" he says turning back around to face me, closing the distance between us.

He caresses my face again and laces his fingers through the hair at the nape of my neck, gaining a better hold on me to keep me in place. I reciprocate the kiss as best as I can but I can't stop the trembling of my lips, still so disappointed in myself. He pulls me in against him by my waist and walks us closer to the bed without parting from my lips. Once we do he softly guides me down onto the mattress, placing his hand on the small of my back, making sure I land softly.

"You look so pretty laying there, being so good for me" he says while loosening his tie and throwing it on the bed beside me. "You know you're doing something amazing for our family right? My son will be so happy, finally giving everyone what we've always wanted. The child will be beautiful, just like their mother" he says while unbuttoning his dress shirt and taking it off, my eyes automatically tracing his figure, making me want to vomit once I've realized what I had done.

"Baby, eyes up here please" he coos sitting next to me on the bed encouraging me to look in his eyes. "Don't call me that" I say glaring up at him "and stop talking" I say sadness dissipating, irritation taking it's place. "Aw there she is, the brat I've always taken you for" he continues, still cooing at me despite my defiant nature. "I'd keep my mouth shut if I were you" he whispers in my ear as he gets on the bed hovering over me.

"Play nice and I'll make this pleasurable for the both of us darling" he continues, tracing his hand down my figure, his fingers now coming in contact with my bare waist, my shirt having risen up a bit from when he had laid me down. I flinch at how cold his fingers are and he smirks knowingly. "I'm sorry angel, I'm sure you'll warm me up soon" he says and gets up to take off his belt, the clanking of the metal making me feel sick since I had heard that same sound just hours ago when I was with my husband, being in this same position.

I can still smell his scent on the pillow next to me, the thought of him close helping me escape for only a moment before I feel the bed dip, signaling the presence of his father next to me. "Will you let me undress you?" he asks, his fingers trailing up my shirt and drawing circles on my waist. "I'll do it myself" I say getting up off the bed, giving my back to him and doing so as quickly as I can, wanting to finish this as soon as possible.

I can feel his eyes following my every move before I feel his hands on my hips while he places kisses on the back of my shoulder "Gorgeous" he whispers in my ear, nose nudging into the side of my neck, taking in my sent. "I'm not doing this for indulgence Mr. Jeon, I'm doing this to take the pressure off my husband. That's it" I say feeling myself get slightly breathless feeling one of his hands rubbing over my stomach almost caressing it.

"You're going to look so gorgeous when you're pregnant with my child. Watching you stomach swell day by day, knowing that it's mine. It'll drive me mad knowing that I won't be able to have you like this again" he says starting to kiss and bite on my skin. "No marks, he'll notice if I have new ones" I choke out and feel tears forming again, hating that I have to worry about something like that. I despise cheaters and I swore never to become one but I'm not doing this for myself, I'm doing it for him, for my husband and for our future.

"They'll fade by the time he get's back love don't worry, and if they haven't I can make his time away last even longer if you would like me to" he says before biting down on my shoulder making me let out a moan that I wish I could take back. "There you go, keep making those pretty sounds for me" he says and places a kiss where he had just bitten to soothe the pain before guiding me to lie back down with little to no fight left in me.

I have small burst of it left but nowhere near as much as I need to stop this so I lay motionless and wait for him to finish getting undressed, his boxers the only item left on him. Once he takes them off he comes back to hover over me once more, trying to kiss me again but I turn my head away. "I don't think kissing is necessary Mr. Jeon" I choke out and I see him tilt his head to the side but ultimately agrees. "Too intimate for you? I understand, I can respect your boundaries" he says and settles on kissing my neck, setting my body and mind at odds.

I try to hold back any noises I may make but it's impossible since the skin there is so sensitive and he seems to know it. "You don't have to hold back, you can be as loud as you want. No one will be able to hear you scream, it's a natural thing to do you know," he says trailing his fingers up my inner thigh "a way to thank the one that is giving you pleasure" he finishes using his hand, urging me too open my legs for him.

He decides to slide back down on the bed and takes his time ravishing my body. "Been thinking about this for so long" he says looking down at my cunt which is already wet but not as much as he would like it to be. He sticks a finger in and watches as I whine softly "Aw this pretty cunt has already been fucked today hasn't it? You're still sensitive, I guess he has been treating you well" he says nuzzling his nose in against my clit leaving my body jolting at the contact. "But not as well as I can treat you" he says and licks a long stripe along my slit paying special attention to my clit.

Although his kisses on it are tender and almost loving in a sick and twisted way it still drives me into over sensitivity. "Please" I whine more, hating the sound of my voice right now begging him to stop. "Please what Pretty?" he says looking up at me through his lashes. "Please just do it already I don't want this to go on longer than it has to" I say looking up at the ceiling, hating the sight of him between my legs like this.

"Alright" he says sounding as if he's been denied something he's been craving for for so long. "But don't you think for a second that I won't be coming back here to eat that pretty little pussy the next time we do this" he says regaining his positing on top of me.

"Next ti-" I start questioning but am cut off by my own moan as he shoves himself inside of me. "Fuck, you're still so fucking tight. One dick wasn't enough for you today sweetheart?" he taunts, brushing a hair off my face. "Shut up" I say through gritted teeth before he thrusts in harder this time. "What was that love? Couldn't hear that" he says clearly doing so in punishment for my disrespect. As if I could ever respect him after this.

I stay silent and don't dare to make eye contact with him and angle my head up to the celling, closing my eyes trying to block everything out. "Fuck no wonder he wanted to marry you. Between your pretty little face and this addictive cunt I wouldn't dare to let you go either" he groans, prolonging my torture. "Stop saying things like that, please" I say blinking back the tears.

"Why? You don't want to be reminded of the fact that you're cheating on your husband with his father? Is that it?" he ask and thrusts into me harder this time "Yes" I cry, tears falling again from all of the combined emotions and sensations he's giving me. "The deed is already done love, why not enjoy it?" he taunts, wanting me to give in to him and again, I'm losing the battle.

He slows down his thrusts and changes them into something more sensual, more intimate. "Stop! Just go faster please, just finish already" I beg wanting to keep at least some form of intimacy left untouched by him. "If that's what you want" he says and picks up the pace again showing me no mercy anymore. "You like being fucked like this? Having your cunt ruined, leaving you sore, barely able to walk straight" he taunts and I cry out, feeling nothing but pain, the pleasure never enough to overcome the anguish I feel for betraying to only man I've ever loved.

"Shit, are you close?" he questions a few minutes later, having kissed and sucked and bitten all over whatever parts of my body he can reach while inside me. "Yes" I lie, clenching around him purposefully. "Fuck do that again" he says his thrusts stuttering and I do as he asks. "Y/n look at me" he says using my name for the first time since we've started. "Say my name" he say holding himself back from his release. "Who is giving you this much pleasure?" he says sticking him fingers in my mouth for a moment, getting them wet enough so he can bring them down to play with my clit.

"No please I don't want to" I sob, the pain getting to be too much for me. "Say it! Say it or I won't cum inside you" he say which brings my eyes snapping back over to his, scared to be denied what I had been searching for, the only reason I'm doing this. "I-" I start but he thrusts inside me harder again leaving my back arching off the bed and before I'm able to think twice I do as he says. "Jungkook! J-jungkook please, please just finish already" I yell sobbing from being so close and also begging for this to be over.

"Look in my eyes and say my name again. Fuck-" he groans through gritted teeth and I look over at him eyes glossy from all of the mixed emotions I'm having. "J-jungkook" I sob one last time which has him cursing and thrusting in as hard as he can and a few seconds later he's stuffing me full of his release, finally getting what I wanted, the only thing I wanted. He lets out a chant that sounds like a slur of my name, the rest incoherent fucking himself into me to ride out his high, mine still on the edge not having tipped over.

He pulls out of me, watching as he does so and sees some of his cum start dripping out of me. "Can't waste any of it now can we?" he says using his fingers to gather it up and stuff it back inside me. "You never came" he says brushing the hair out of my face after opting to sit next to me on the bed. I flinch at his motions, wanting to be as far away from him as possible now. "It's fine, just go" I say placing both of my hands over my eyes trying to get them to finally stop shedding tears.

He reaches over and kisses my waist which again has me flinching, opening my eyes and snapping them back to him, surprised by the gesture "Ease your mind" he whispers, "It's all over" he finishes and places one last kiss on my stomach. "See you soon" he says mumbles to my stomach, taunting me with the fact that I'll soon be carrying his child. "Get out!" I yell, picking up the first thing I find and throwing it at him, with him narrowly dodging it.

"I'll come back tomorrow to see how you're doing since you won't let me take care of you now" he says and grabs his clothes and walks into the bathroom in the hallway to get dressed, but once he emerges I call out to him before he goes. "Jungkook" I say having him stopping in his tracks, coming back in and leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. "Not a word" I say while glaring, repulsed with everything about him.

"Not a word, just trust me".

Read the epilogue here I did it for You

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#fanfic #kpop #fanfiction #kpop fanfic #bts #jungkook #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook yandere #yandere #tw yandere #smut #kpop smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook and reader

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monzabee · 6 months

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third time's the charm (social media au) - mv1

masterlist

Summary: The one where you are there to celebrate Max winning his third title, and the whole world is there to witness it.

Pairing: max verstappen x reader (model used: mun ka young)

Warnings: none other than some cursing, internet being the internet

Request: "First of, in love with your social media au works. Could you do one with Max where reader is a K-pop idol (solo) and one of the biggest artist both in Korea and internationally, ever since she debuted (early-middle 2010s) she's been associated/sponsored by Red Bull. So she and Max have secretly been together for a year or two until someone caught Max in Korea and everything starts unfolding. (Ps. fully understand if you aren't able too❤️)"

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

ynofficial

Liked by yg_ent_official, iconnews, jennyrubyjane and 982,927 others

ynofficial: excited for this weekend's schenanigans, can you guess where i'm heading?

jennyrubyjane: not la??😿

ynofficial: 아니, 곧 만나러 갈게 약속할게😭

user: is it paris? new york? london? THE OPPORTUNITIES ARE ENDLESS

redbullracing: can't wait to have you with us again!

ynofficial: 감사합니다 🥹🫶

user: SHE'S GOING TO A F1 RACE, AGAIN??

user: she's just like me i swear

comments on this post have been limited

ynylnfans

Liked by kpopworld, ynnews, and 325,746 others

ynylnfans: Y/N at the airport this morning, going to the qatar gp!

user: the queen of airport looks😭

user: love the way she makes that ludicrously capacious bag work🫡

user: oh to be y/n and travel the world while looking this good

view all 6,625 comments

user: see everyone is sad because we have to share her with the f1 girlies but i'm just glad we're getting looks

user: her fashion game on race weekends have been on point

ynofficial posted a story!

ynofficial tagged location: losail international circuit

Liked by maxverstappen1, ynylnfans, f1wagss and 827,637 others

ynofficial: how does the saying go again? third time's the charm✌️☝️

user: no way, no actual way

user: have you not seen her story...

user: i knew she was a red bull girl, but i didn't know she was THE red bull girl😭

user: okay but when is the new album dropping?? the kids need music

the comments on this post has been limited

maxverstappen1

Liked by danielricciardo, landonorris, ynofficial and 836,547 others

maxverstappen1: the past couple of days with ms yln

user: i'm so confused right now🤨

user: where is the race content and who is this man??

user: i can't believe this post just called me single in all the languages ever

ynofficial: always a pleasure🫶

maxverstappen1: ❤️

view all 21,536 comments

danielricciardo: is this why you said no to hanging out?

maxverstappen1: what do you think?

ynofficial

Liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, yg_ent_official and 998,625 others

ynofficial: date night with one mr verstappen

user: I NEED HER WARDROBE, RIGHT NOW😭

user: girl, i get that you're happy and in love, but please drop a song or something😭

ynofficial: after date night?👀

user: i never thought i'd be jealous of max verstappen but here we are

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maxverstappen1: ❤️

ynofficial: 🥹

ynofficial

Liked by yg_ent_official, iconnews, jennyrubyjane and 982,927 others

ynofficial: third time's the charm. out this friday. enjoy🤭

user: OH I KNEW IT

user: i can't believe we're getting a song about sid from ice age

user: sid and the dragon babies

redbullracing: are we invited to the listening party?

ynofficial: of course!🥹

user: finally, it's been so long😭

maxverstappen1: oh i definitely will

ynofficial: i know you will🙃

view all 542,243 comments

user: damn, this right after the hard launch of the century??

#monzabee #formula 1 x reader #social media au #f1 social media au #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #formula one x reader #max verstappen media au

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 3 months

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AITA for going off on a tattoo artist for giving me the wrong mandarin letters?

Context matters a lot here. I (23ftm) recently lost my partner to cancer. They were the love of my life and I dropped everything for them- I moved states away from my family so that they could be more comfortable in a dryer climate, I made sure to be there for them through thick and thin- the works. My family, though sad, were okay with it since I had never been so passionate about anything before I met them. Losing them has been nothing short of miserable.

They were Chinese and had a very strong connection to their language and culture, so I wanted to get a tattoo that translated to "My angel, my love" with "my angel" being on the top and "my love" being on the bottom onto my arm. I wasn't able to learn any dialects from them while they were alive since things had been so busy, but I thought maybe at least I could start with this.

So, I went to a local tattoo parlor that had a Chinese tattoo artist (I hope it isn't racist to assume, I've heard him speaking in Mandarin on the phone) and asked to get the translation tattooed. He seemed genuine and we got to work with choosing a font, the right location, and scheduling an appointment. It was very professional and I was really glad that it had gone smoothly since if it hadn't, I'd probably just give up entirely.

A week passes and I get my tattoo. A bit after as we're talking about it, I mention that I got it to commemorate my late partner, whom like I said I consider to be the light of my life. When I mentioned that, he sort of paused and had this look on his face, like when you realize you forgot something really important. He shook it off though and we got back to talking, but things seemed obviously more awkward now.

When I went home I sent a picture of it to my partner's family, and immediately they picked up that something was wrong. They didn't tell me what it had actually translated to, but it was apparently very inappropriate and disrespectful.

Needless to say I was breaking down. My partner had died, I was struggling with depression and fatigue from handling a lot of the funeral procedures, and overall that had been the straw that broke the camel's back. This is where I may be the asshole. I drove back to the parlor shop and found my tattoo artist, and I didn't get physical, but I had definitely wanted to. I was yelling at him, screaming about how he was a horrible shitty person, the works. He argued back that I should have at least given him a reason for the tattoo, since he gets white people coming in all the time asking for dumb stuff, but I shot back that he could have at least told me what he had done when I did reveal why I got the tattoo.

Again, I didn't get physical, but they did threaten to call the cops on me if I didn't leave since I wss making a scene, so I left and later emailed that I had at the very least wanted a refund, since they didn't even give me the tattoo I wanted. I still haven't gotten a response yet.

My family (both biological and in-laws) are very conflicted over this. Some of them think that I could have dealt with it a lot better, while others think I should have threatened them with a lawsuit (obviously there's inbetween opinions but those are the main two extremes). I can't afford a lawsuit considering I'm already dealing with the funeral funds like I said, but I don't know. I don't even know if yelling at the guy made me feel better or worse- it was an in-the-moment response to be sure.

So, with more context, AITA for yelling at the tattoo artist who gave me an inappropriate tattoo instead of the one I really wanted?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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athanasius-symposium-of-writings · 8 months

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Little Words

gif link

So on my good playthrough, the party scene with the "my little treat" happened but the teasing was so sad cuz Astarion looked so sad puppy then my tav looked like a sad puppy and now here we are with this fic

Rated: M

Warnings: angst but i swear it soft at end i swear

"I love you." The false face of sincerity hurts, the way his voice becomes sweet hurts, the way his eyes take in your surprised expression. You didn't expect him to say it, to say it like that, to leave you aching in a way both familiar and terrible.

"Isn't it… A little too soon?" Why does your heart ache? You know he would not feel the same as you, you fall too easily… Sure he was the one who took your virginity, allowed you to feed from him, and vice-versa, but you needed to be guarded over your heart not counting the ways you loved him— Could love him.

"Well, it can be true, only for tonight." His voice was so soft, matching the way he soothed you as he guided you through your few bliss with his fingers. Your hand grips the fabric at the end of your shirt, you feel hurt. "Now, as much as I relish standing around and saying all of my favorite lines at you," Back to his usual self, "I'd rather we got to experience each others' full portfolio talents once again." As if nothing matters.

"That… That isn't funny, Astarion." Your trembling voice is not something he thought to hear, to see your gaze lower and to the side. He has teased you before! Where is the shy giggle, flustered expression, or even gasp followed by a nudge for him to stop embarrassing you?

Astarion blinks twice then slightly laughs, "Come now, it's just a bit of fun between friends." Because you both are friends, you told him that. He is your friend, a confidante like Shadowheart. "My sweet?"

"No, sorry, never mind." You aren't feeling so good, "You enjoy your evening." It should not hurt this much, technically you knew what you were getting yourself involved with that charlatan… Yet, this hurts.

You try not to think about your Sire, about the man whose honeyed words landed you an eternity in darkness and blood. But he slips into your thoughts, into your nightmares, and the trauma of being not only his victim but his personal pet vampire project lingers.

Maybe later you will apologize to Astarion later for being so pitiful; you know his bed will find another to warm it… You have no right to feel envious either because you are just a dear traveling companion, a favorite one, nothing more.

Which shouldn't upset you, it actually is nice to know he thinks highly of you despite you both being on two different moral compasses.

You are a good person, too good for this world in Astarion's eyes. A do-gooder with your heart on your sleeve, a light many of your companions are drawn to.

Astarion would snuff it out so you felt his misery, to share the pain you haven't endured in your short years as a vampire.

You don't sleep. The party is fun, you enjoy it very much. Committing the smiling faces, the drunken laughter, and the way your heart swells seeing that even with your curse you can still do some good to memory.

Dawn slips into the darkness banishing the shadows, and you do your silent prayer to Lathander.

"There you are!"

You finish then look up at Astarion who sits beside you, close to you, "Good morning." A sweet smile you offer him.

"I missed you." He leans in close, "Leaving me all alone last night. You made me worried." You lean in the rest of the way to share the warmth of the sun you had soaked in.

"I'm sorry." Soft, gentle, sweet. Your eyes don't match your smile that wades.

"Was it something I said?" Usually, his flirtatious lines have you in the palm of his hand, yet last night you looked so heartbroken.

His eyes follow your hands that rest on his then trace his nimbled fingers, "You say the most beautiful words and it leaves me," You frown as you lace your fingers between his, "Wishing we met sooner." The heartbreak in your voice is enough to have Astarion bury his face in your hair to hide the surprise on his face. You expose your heart to him so easily, painfully at times.

He has been as ginger with your fragile heart, a tortured creature who is hanging on by a thread of their humanity. The fellow spawn envies you at times, to have such hope inside an un-beating heart.

"I will only take what you give me. It was selfish of me to expect more without asking." You take the blame for your behavior last night, "I am a hopeless romantic, loving you comes as easy as writing a poem about it."

"Darling," You smile at him with ease, eyes he can see himself in, and heart on your sleeve once more, "You are… Sweet." Too good for him. Your confession is adorable while also laying out for him a clear boundary he can fall back on.

How strange. To not be pressed for more than what he is willing to give. It leaves him flabbergasted, confused at the way he pulls you closer to him, in control.

Too good for him and this whole camp.

#reader insert #fanfiction #baldur's gate fanfiction #astarion bg3 #astarion #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 astarion #baldur's gate astarion #astarion x you #astarion x tav #astarion x mc #astarion x reader

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norrisleclercf1 · 9 months

Text

3 Words

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Lando Norris x F!Reader

Words: 3.5K

Warnings: Gut wrenching angst, just mainly angst, I couldn't help it I'm sorry miscommunication, fluff at the end

Requested: Yes/No

A/N: I was going to write smut for this even had it finished, but I scrapped it as it just didn't feel right for this. Also slightly edited

Synopsis: It's 3 words that have your world crumbling, and coming together again.

3 words, that's all they are, 3 simple words.

No one really takes into account what 3 words can do to someone. That's all it took for your world to turn upside down, 3 words.

"I love you."

They never tell you that you get this numb feeling in your chest, or how you feel everything slow down. Why didn't they warn you that you'll feel sick, happy, sadness.......regret.

No one told you that when you hear those words, you'll freeze. Staring at those hazel eyes, you hate that your heart screams for another. You wish those eyes weren't hazel but the prettiest blue-green you've ever seen.

Every inch of your body, sparked to life, bringing you back from this frozen place you're at. Blinking you come back to focus on your boyfriend of a year saying 3 simple words.

"Carlos." Dropping his head, he sighs, fingers wringing together before looking at you. "Don't, I know." Is all he whispers, kissing your cheek as he grabs your hand.

"No, Carlos." You whisper, planting your feet down, stopping Carlos. He turns slowly; pain, sadness, and regret are all that stare back at you, mirroring your own emotions. "You know....that.....I feel the same, but simultaneously," He stops you, raising a hand.

"Some of you will always love him, and I knew this. I always knew that I'd be second in your heart, that you'll never be able to let him go. And I'm okay with that. Because I'll be the one you love last." His words cut you deep, and you didn't want to love them separately; you wanted both.

A secret you've kept to yourself for years. Loving two men, it was hard. Harden when they're old teammates, best friends, more? You always questioned the relationship they had with one another.

"Carlos.....You're not second in my heart, there is no fighting over me. I'm here, with you." He scuffs, feet kicking at invisible dirt. "I see it Y/n." Breaths shaky, Carlos gathers his thoughts before continuing.

"I see the secret looks, the phantom touches, how your heart cries for him. It's all I can see, and I hate that I don't hate it. I despise the fact that I'm more than okay letting him have you, only if it means I keep you too." Hands clamp on your throat, the panic and terror gripping at you.

"I want to hate him, but he's.....I love him too. I love you both, I just wish you would've said something first." He whispers, pressing his forehead against yours. A shuttered breath, escapes your mouth.

It's like you can breath again, that Carlos knows. You aren't lying to him or yourself anymore. It's all here in the open no longer in the shadows.

"Carlos, I'm sorry. I should've told you. That I still love him, that you aren't the only one I see in the future, that you aren't alone in that church. Because you're not." Carlos's large hands cup your face, his thumbs wiping the bottom of your eyes, stopping the tears before they fall.

"Y/n, we need to take a moment and think about what we want. I know what I want, but do you?" He asks, grip tightens, then falls away, leaving you there. "When you know what you want, tell me." Placing one last kiss on your lips he walks away.

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6 days, that's all it took for the rumors to spread that you broke up with Carlos. The pictures of you spreading everywhere. It's the ones after Carlos walks away, that has the fans in an uproar.

You, crouched down in the middle of the walkaway, sobbing. Your heart ripped in two different directions. One was in Italy the other in London and you had neither piece with you.

All you could do was lie in bed, wearing Carlos's sweatshirt, a lingering scent of him is the only comfort you have. The hate you felt for yourself is strong, that you wanted Carlos here with you, yet yearned for that british accent that whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

Still silence is what leaves you with your thoughts, you turned on the TV but immediately turn it off when both their faces pop up laughing and hanging off one another. It set off fresh tears, eyes burning because you couldn't do anything but cry.

No music, due to the fact that Carlos left it on one of his favorite stations, the memories of you two dancing in your kitchen late one night. It's your favorite memory.

All you did that day was make love, eat, drink nice wine, and stayed up the entire time talking. You can still smell the spices of the food, and feel Carlos's hands on you, when that memory spills into your mind.

Soft knocks, pull you out of your thoughts. With aching muscles you pull yourself out of bed. Everything in you protesting the movement, with each step it felt like a battle raging in you. You don't bother looking who it is at first, just pulling it open.

When you see red, your heart jumps, body warms, it's like life was breathed back into you. Just as fast it filled you, it spills when you see pale skin, short hair, and green hazel eyes.

"Oh." You must sound so broken with that one word, because all the person before you can do is pull you into his hold. "I thought," He shushes you, walking you into the hallway, closing the door. "I know, he wanted to be the one.....they both did, just." He swallows not able to find the words to comfort you.

"Charles, I can't.....I can't breath without them." You sob, this was the first human contact you've had in 6 days, the first time you've seen or spoken to since the photos. "Shhh, it's okay." Charles tightens his hold, rubbing your back.

Carlos and Lando were putting on a good show, acting like they too weren't in the same position. That they too weren't dying inside, the fact that they couldn't be here, to hold you, love you, comfort you. It's the final nail in the coffin.

Charles talks you down, holding a large mug of chamomile tea, a dash of honey and milk. Lando told him that it helps you calm down, and just how you take it. "Here, drink." Placing the it in your hands, the warmth tickles it's way up your arms to your chest.

"How did you," "Lando." Is all Charles says, sipping some water. "Are you going to ask first, or make me tell you?" Charles looks around your apartment, memories of Carlos and Lando both equal in your home.

"How are they?" Hiding your mouth behind your mug, scared to look at Charles. He was somewhat intimidating, protective of the people he loves and consider family. He chuckles, not a humerous one, but one filled with distained and contempt.

"How are they? Well let's see, you dated one for 4 years, but broke up with him, leaving him confused and hurt as to why. Then you start dating his best friend, while you're still in love with the other. Carlos tells you he loves you, and you can't even say it back because of this....regret? Self-loathing shit you've got going on, since you're still in love with Lando, s." He takes a breath staring you down. "You tell me how they are." Each word a stab to the heart.

"I love them both, Charles. I do." He rolls his eyes, licking his lips in frustration. "You love them, but refuse to tell them what is going on with you. Y/n, they both love you and each other. They love each other long before you came along." The more he talks the more you curl in on yourself, wanting a black hole to swallow you up.

"Look, the only reason I'm here is to make sure you're alive and tell them how you are. Also.....call it curiosity, are you ever going to grow some balls and tell them both you want both of them?" You stare into your tea, thinking over Charles words.

"I have balls, Charles. They're on my chest." Charles just stares at you, while your lips form a small smile. "Second, I'm scared they don't want that." They had a bond that's unbreakable nothing on or off the track could break that. And you didn't want to be the one to break it.

"You're just as bad. Y/n, they are together every night. They have needed you every second of their lives, and they need each other. So, since you don't want to understand me I'll say it like this instead; they want to fuck you, love you, and make you theirs everyway possible." Face red, you hide behind your mug, the words crast and beautiful all at the same time.

"Also, please call one of them, my liver can only handle so much drinking and tears." Charles stands, placing a envelope on your coffee table. "If you ever, ever tell them that I came here and talked to you, I'll lie." You blink up confused.

"But you said," "I know what I said, I lied so you'd let me in the door. They have no idea I'm here. They'd kill me if they found out I was pushing you to your decision." Placing the mug down, you stand feeling new energy as you lean over hugging Charles.

You two aren't close by any means, he found you.....indesicive, something he didn't like. Patting your back, he moves away, clearing his throat. "Well, bye." You smile at Charles back, as he slips out of your apartment.

Leaving the white envelope behind, taunting to you.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shoulders cloaked in orange, you watched from a distance as he finishes his media duties for the day. You kept yourself hidden in the crowd, making sure you don't run into them.

Hiding from them like a child whose been punished, was ridiculous. They wanted to see you, you knew that from the mountain of texts Charles kept sending you.

They only reason he knew you're here was due to you using the plane ticket and pass he gave you last week. Gasping you step back into shadows as Lando turns, like he could feel someone watching him.

He's used to being watched, but this was different.

"What are you doing?" Every molecule in your body freezes. No, oh no, no, no. He wasn't supposed to find you, talk to you first. It's supposed to be you who does it. Instead, that smokey voice has you frozen. "Y/n?" He moves around, eyes watching for any signs of you running.

He knew you well, that when it gets too much you like to run. And he wasn't going to let that happen. Your eyes trail up, staring with his feet. Taking in those familiar jeans, up to that black belt, soaking in the bright red that does him wonders, to those full pouty lips, his nose that you loved so much, to those hazel eyes that scream at you.

When your eyes meet, he does something you never thought he would.

He kisses you. Without warning, without permission. Not even a second thought or decision, he simply kissed you because he couldn't think to do anything else. All the words he wanted to say, left him the moment you looked at him.

He just wanted to breathe again, to feel that weight leave his chest, allowing him to just.....breathe. Pulling away, is painful. He didn't want to ever be away from you again, eyes fluttering open you both stare at one another.

"Y/n?" Not again, not like this. Did he see? Did he care? Sliding your eyes over, you stare at those sea green eyes, the eyes you've dreamed about. But the ones you've craved are in front of you.

"Lando." You gasp, feeling air punch you in the stomach. "Maybe we should talk, in private." Carlos grounds out the last part, Lando stutters to a stop. Nodding his head, he spins walking away.

"Lan," Reaching out for him, Carlos pulls your hand down. "Stop, do you want everyone who just saw us kissing, pining over another driver. He's going to my hotel room." Carlos whispers, voice sharp.

"Right, you're right." Getting back your senses, Carlos leads you through the crowd, to his car and doesn't wait for you to buckle in, already driving off. "Why is he staying in your hotel room?" Trying to make conversation in the stiff silence.

"Because he's been crying himself to sleep with guilt that he's the reason we've broken up. Except he won't see that we're not done, just trying to figure out how to tell him we're both in love with him." Carlos grounds out, the blinker tinking away at the silence.

"You love him?" Carlos whips the car to the side, slamming down on the break. His once warm chocolate eyes are now black with anger. "Of course, I fucking love him, he's my best friend, a part of me that I never knew I had. When you two were together I didn't know which one of you to be jealous of. Him for, having you? Or you for having him? Four fucking years I was in hell." Carlos takes a breath, hands tightening on the steering wheel.

"Four fucking years, I felt like the worst human being for being in love with my best friend and his girlfriend. When you two broke up, it was like shards of glass in my throat. Then a bullet to the head when we....when we," He closes his eyes trying his best to calm down.

"When we started to date, I watched as I ripped out both your hearts. His because he didn't know what he did wrong, why you suddenly stopped loving him and loved me instead. And you, for the guilt of loving us both, when really I'm the villain." Carlos blinks fast, looking over at you. "I'm the bad guy, for loving you both, for craving you like air. And I have one of you, but it still hurts because, I don't think I can ever have both of you." He gasps, tears falling down his face.

Undoing your seat belt, you climb over the console into Carlos's lap. His arms wrap around you the moment your body touches his, holding you for dear life. "You're not the bad guy. You're our glue, if it wasn't for you pushing me to face my feelings. We'd be spiraling down, to where we'd burn everything down we love."

He hides his face in your neck, hands digging into your side, afraid that he'll lose you if he lets you go. "Carlos, we have to go, Lando." Sniffling he nods, letting you back to your seat, hand planted right on your leg as he starts the car again, heading to the hotel room.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So, wait." Lando shakes his head, all the information he's just given rattling him. "Let me get this straight," Taking a deep breath, you and Carlos watch as he starts to pace around the room.

"You broke up with me, 2 years ago because you felt guilty for loving Carlos and I? Only for you, a year later to date Carlos?" Pulling at his hair he stops in front of you two. "And you, have been in love with the both of us for years?" Lando asks, Carlos nods his head, not wanting to look at Lando.

"To add on, to this whole fucking mess. I had my heart broken by the two people I love more than fucking air, only for them to love me back and none of you had the GODDAMN BALLS TO TELL ME!" Lando roars, his anger finally getting the better of him.

Lando was never angry, annoyed? Yes, pissed? Yes, but angry enough to actually yell? A first. "Lando," You reach out for him, but he backs up. "Don't, I'm so.....I'm so angry at you." Licking your lips you watch as Lando's head spins.

"You fucked me up, do you get that? Both of you did. I came to your house, sobbing. Not crying, not sniffling, but sobbing Carlos. My world was shattered when she dumped me, and I came to you. My best friend, the one who...who....fuck!" Lando sits down on a chair, leg bouncing when he bolts back up.

He opens his mouth, like he has more to say, but closes it. He repeats this a couple of times, finally finding the words. "Do you have any idea what you two dating did to me? I felt....worthless, like you didn't love me enough, and that our friendship meant fucking nothing." He seethes "What.....what are you two even wanting from me? Forgiveness, to give you a clear mind? Because somehow I'm the one that'll have the broken heart." Carlos stands up, letting your hand fall away.

"No you goddamn muppet! If you listened to what I said, we both want you! I want you! Y/n wants you, we.....we...." Standing, your legs shake, placing a hand on Carlos's back you feel his heart calm down. "Lando, how do you feel about us?" Both boys stop, looking at you.

"What?" Lando spits, confused by your question. "How do you feel about us? It's not a simple question, I know. But, if you love us, truly love us, we want you too." Lando blinks, eyes moving back and forth between the two of you.

"How I feel? You're the love of my goddamn life. Carlos.......fuck, you're my safe space. The one I want to come too and hold when I don't know what to do. Just, you are my person." Lando snaps, his head hurting with all these emotions and thoughts.

The three of you stare at one another, not sure what the next step is. "What do we do now?" Lando whispers, falling back into the chair hands rubbing down his face. "Could always fuck." Carlos whispers, you swing back smacking him hard in the shoulder. "Read the damn room, Carlos." You hiss, Lando giggling. "Not a bad idea." He grumbles both boys nodding at one another.

"Stop, we're not sleeping with each other, just, I need a shower." Carlos smiles, pulling you in him, between his legs you blush. Lando moves right behind you, resting his head on your shoulder. "Alone you two, we need to take this slow." Carlos grumbles something in Spanish but nods, Lando says nothing.

You move away from them, slipping into the bathroom closing the door, leaving Carlos and Lando alone. "You're in love with me?" Carlos looks at Lando, the younger driver blushing. "Yes." Lando nods, watching his feet. "I should go." He whispers heading for the door, but Carlos's hand stops him.

"Don't be fucking stupid." Pulling Lando back, they fall against the bed, Lando's head resting on Carlos's chest. "Carlos, let me go." Squirming to get away from the strong hold of the Spaniard. "No, I let you go once, not doing it again." He mumbles into Lando's shoulder.

Lando stops fighting, he too was tired of fighting these feelings. The dreams of the two of you, the alcohol to numb the pain whenever he saw you. Lando was tired of it all, Carlos holding him still has his eyes squeeze tight.

His hand comes up, shaking as he tries to control the tears. He didn't want Lando to leave, and he wanted him. Carlos wanted him. "I'm not going anywhere; neither are you. I'll superglue your hand to mine if I have to." Carlos's words are soft, with a tinge of humor, but Lando doesn't laugh at the joke.

"Lonely, it was so lonely without you two." Carlos's heart snaps, he can't help but pull Lando closer into his hold. The two drivers say nothing more as the curl around one another.

Stepping out of the shower, it's silent to silent, especially for people known to laugh like maniacs when with one another. The towel is soft against your skim, peeking your head out the steam flows out of the gap.

Your stomach flips when you see Carlos and Lando on the bed, with no movement or whispers passing between them. They're asleep. With cautious steps, you slip on some underwear and one of Carlos's shirts.

"Carlos, move over." Pushing some thick curls out of his face, he groans. "Carlos, come on." You giggle, watching his eyes squeeze, nose twitching as he moves. Lando slurs some words, dry tears on his cheeks, and slides with Carlos. "Thank you." A ghost of your lips on his cheek has the corner of his lips turn up before relaxing.

Lying down, you watch their breaths and the day's events run in your mind. You knew it would take some time for Lando, Carlos, and you to recover from the hurt and secrets kept between the 3 of you. But at least you'd be doing it together.

"I love you, both of you so much."

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starlightshadowsworld · 3 months

Text

Heroes of Olympus but when Jason returns to Camp Jupiter, he's pissed.

He doesn't cower at the sight of his camp but stands taller. A steelness in his eyes no one at Camp Half Blood has ever seen before.

But one those in Camp Jupiter know all to well.

"Twelth Leigion Fulminata, stand at attention."

He doesn't even need to raise his voice as every single Roman demigod stops what their doing to look at him.

The only thing on their faces is fear.

"Oh would you look at that, you do know how to follow orders." Says Jason, strolling forward and.

Two centurions scramble to get a seat for him, Jason sits down nodding in thanks and dismissing them.

"Does anyone care to explain, just what the fuck has been going on here in my absence?"

Octavian raises a hand and Jason snorts.

"Augur, why am I not suprised? The floor is yours."

Octavian nods, a grin on his face and began to explain what had occurred.

All the while Jason listens, his expression giving nothing away. When Octavian finished, Jason sighed loudly and ran a hand through his hair.

"If there's one thing I can't tell you idiots off its for making my life boring. Your dismissed...actually one last thing Augur?"

Octavian paused, turning back around to face Jason. "Yes, sir?" Jason frowned "wipe that smug look off your face before I do it for you."

Octavian went pale, all traces off amusement gone from his face.

"Thank you. Your dismissed, get out of my sight." Octavian left without a second word.

"Jason"

"Praetor Ramirez-Arellano"

Reyna winced, and she wasn't the only one. Jason never called her by her title unless they were in the Senate.

He was hurt.

"Do tell me, has Augur Octavian missed anything in his explanation?" Reyna shook her head, for as pretentious as he was Octavian had spoken the truth.

Jason rose to his feet.

"Oh but he did, he neglected to mention that there were 3 Praetors standing before us. Now, unless the rules have changed their are only supposed to be 2."

Jason looked past Reyna, his gaze resting on Percy who waved awkwardly. "State your name."

Percy, feeling very much like he was intruding in on something answered him. "Percy Jackson."

Recognition flashed in Jason's gaze, and he softened momentarily. "Percy Jackson, son of Posideon? Formerly apart of this Camp?" He asked, gesturing to his orange Camp Half Blood top.

"Yup."

Jason nodded "apologises, Jackson. Your friends and I traveled here, you may wait in the Senate. I will release them to you momentarily." Percy grinned "thanks, erm... Sorry about all of this I really didn't know."

Jason held up a hand "that's quite alright, you are not at fault for this." Percy left and Jason's smile vanished.

"Tell me, when did the Senate allow for a new Praetor to be reinstated? And why someone so new? I'd get if it was due to an it emergency field promotion, but that wasn't the case."

He couldn't even look at her and it hurt.

"I thought you were dead, Jason.

Jason laughed, but there was no humour in it. It sent chills down everyone's spines.

"Really? Than please, show me the search parties, point me to the evidence you collected that bought you too such a conclusion. For that matter, where's my funeral pyre?"

Jason shook his head, anger and sadness in his eyes. "Don't bullshit me. You didn't think I was dead, you didn't even look. And frankly I don't think you cared too."

He looked Reyna in the eye. "You replaced me, with a Greek. I get shit for being named after a Greek hero, but none of you had a problem with this. You wanted to replace me, Reyna. I'm sorry it didn't work out for you."

He shook his head, turning his back on her.

"Jason, wait I-"

"We have several guests at our gate that we need to welcome. I've already had their weapons checked but you've proven how little you trust my authority so you might want to hurry up on that."

And with that he left to the Senate.

Jason swapped his outfit with Percy who apologised once again.

"Really man, I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault. My Leigion had been trying to get rid of me since the day I showed up. Unfortunately for them, I'm more valuable alive than dead." Explains Jason, Percy frowned.

"Well, fuck em." He grinned when Jason laughed in suprise. "You are definitely something else, Jackson." Percy grinned wider "see you're learning fast. I think we'll be good friends you and I."

Jason raised an eyebrow "you sure? Most of my friends stab me in the back." Percy nodded, a sincerity in his eyes that made Jason almost believe he wouldn't.

It felt too good to be true.

"Well, I'll just have to prove you wrong." Percy put a hand out "Percy Jackson, son of Posideon and former Praetor." Jason shook his hand. "Jason Grace, son of Jupiter and current Praetor."

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

#long post #jason grace #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #reyna avila ramirez arellano #octavian pjo #... I don't think it's bashing if it's canon?

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teyamsatan · 10 months

Text

𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕀𝕟 𝕄𝕖 | ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕍𝕀: 𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘'𝕤 𝕄𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕐𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝔼𝕪𝕖𝕤 𝔾𝕠 ℂ𝕠𝕝𝕕

Pairing: Neteyam x (f)Omaticaya!Reader

synopsis: Even in your state, memories of your past can't help but flood your subconscious, as Neteyam has a conversation with his father that will change the way he's viewed the last seven years of his life.

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

wc: 6.8k words

a/n: this chapter was written to pretty much be a mirror of last chapter, with the same concept of flashbacks vs present time, except this time we get to see Vi's memories from the 7 years they hated each other, which will hopefully provide context for why Neteyam's hatred doesn't only stem from that fateful conversation he overheard, but also from her petty, vindictive actions, that only grew as time went on. i hope you enjoy this chapter, besties (i feel very insecure about it so pls go easy on me, i'm still recovering hahaha) x there's only two chapters left, and i'm already sad about this story coming to an end, but i hope you enjoyed the ride. pls don't forget to leave a comment or a reblog and tell me your thoughts, i loveee to hear from you so much!

na'vi compendium: txepvi - spark, sa'nok - mother, ite - daughter, Olo'eykte - female Olo'eyktan, oare - moon, nawm - great, syä - bitter

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

You and I walk a fragile line I have known it all this time But I never thought I'd live to see it break

Neteyam hasn’t blinked since the accident, it feels. He definitely hasn't blinked since he did last, when you opened your eyes and then closed them again, never to be opened since. He doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know why it matters so much that he stays so acutely present and aware, so that his eyes are locked onto your sleeping frame, doesn’t know why the thought of falling asleep and missing you, missing your eyes fluttering open or staying shut forever hurts him so beyond reason or words, so beyond anything he’s ever known. So he hasn’t blinked. Everyone else was long gone, including his grandmother, who hurried to the tree of souls to pray for the safe return of her family and the rest of the brave Na’vi warriors who were still fighting in that wretched battle, the one that seemed never-ending, the one that riddled Neteyam with guilt for not taking part in.

“There’s nothing we can do for her now, ma ‘itan. She’s in Eywa’s hands now, we just have to wait and see.”

Neteyam hated those words. With a burning passion. Wait and see. So passive, so out of his control, so… hopeless. And yet here he was. Waiting, to see if you’d ever wake up, to see if his family, his mother and father, his friends, his clan members would survive the night and the challenge that might overtake them without him being there to help or stop it, or even witness it. Seeing, seeing you, powerless and lifeless, just a flicker of the bright spark you've always been, it stirred something in him.

You were so beautiful. He hated himself for realising it, but you were. You always have been, and although so much of your beauty came from the soul that was wild and untamed and too big to be contained inside you, still, you were beautiful. And like this, no usual frown or defiant smirk that you reserved for him, he could focus on your face and realise that you haven’t changed that much in all these years, not as much as he has led himself to believe in time. Like this, in this light, with a peaceful look on your face, eyelashes casting shadows over your lapis cheeks, your tahni glowing dimly and flickering softly, your lips slightly parted as you breathed in and out, you reminded him a lot of the Vi he used to love, the Vi before the ugly fights, and the constant war, before the hurt and the pain, before every day was just another opportunity to see who could hurt the other the most. He always thought you won those, all of those.

“T-tey…”

His musings come to a swift closure as your lips move minutely, air barely getting pushed past them. You were speaking, and he felt himself coming back to life with each sound coming out of your mouth.

“Teyam…”

It's getting dark and it's all too quiet And I can't trust anything now And it's coming over you like it's all a big mistake

“Teyam…”

You wake up in a sweat, like you did most days these days since the Iknimaya, whimpering the name of the boy you used to call your best friend, that you no longer could, for reasons you still couldn’t understand, that you feared more and more you never would. In your dreams, you fight and make up, and he tells you he’s sorry and that it was just a misunderstanding and that he’ll do whatever it takes to win you back, because just like you’ve gotten used to over the last few years, you two will always be bound by the hip and there was nothing that could ever come between you. It was a nice sentiment, but one that never manifested itself to you in any waking moment, as, since your Iknimaya, Neteyam has treated you like a stranger, like an ugly thought he fought his hardest to banish from his mind.

With a deep sigh, you put new clothes on and struggled to eat a few pieces of yovo fruit you picked up off the floor on your last hunt. You missed the food Neytiri made, and although they still brought you nourishment fresh every time they made it, it wasn’t the same without the familial, loving atmosphere you’ve come to rely on all these years, so you barely touched it, choosing instead to give it to the other orphans of the war that hadn't been as fortunate as you. You couldn’t bring yourself to go back to them, no matter how many times they asked. Not when you knew that if you did, you’d be met with a dead stare you couldn’t handle looking into, not without crying, and there’s nothing you hated more than crying in front of people. There’s nothing you hated more than showing weakness, and he didn’t deserve to see you weak. Not anymore.

Days dragged in training without someone to help time pass faster, without someone to brighten up your days, but they did pass. You had to sit next to Neteyam in briefings and in shooting practice, your ikran still played with each other even mid flight until one of you had to will them away from one another so as to avoid an awkward interaction, his presence and spirit was everywhere around you and in you and yet, it’s like you didn’t exist in his life anymore.

"Come over for dinner, kid. It's been weeks. We miss having you."

You didn't know how many more excuses you could come up with to not do as Jake said, although you did suspect they knew about your and Neteyam's fallout. It was hard not to know, when the air shifted whenever you were in each other's presence, when it became icy and glacial and empty like a vast, cold tundra that you couldn't escape no matter how much you tried.

"Jake..."

"I know, you're sick and you don't want to get Tuk sick, you're too tired for food so you're just gonna crash in your tent, you have discovered a new allergy to an ingredient that Neytiri uses that's never been a problem in the years we've known you, but it suddenly is now... still, just come, okay?"

"Look, I promised your dad I'd take care of you. I can't do that if you're gonna push us away. Whatever it is between you and Neteyam... it will pass. You love each other too much for it not to pass. But hiding, moping, walking 'round looking hopeless and aimless - it isn't you. I need you to be the spark I know and love and fight. You've never gone down without a fight - don't start now. Ok?"

“Ma ‘itan.”

Neteyam’s eyes snapped in the direction of the tent flap prying open, his mother’s lean, graceful figure emerging and he immediately rose from his spot to hurry to her side and envelop her in a hug they both desperately needed. She was fine. She was here, and walking and standing… alive. She was alive.

“Sa’nok! Where’s father? What took so long? Is everyone ok? I am -”

“Shh, Neteyam.” His mother was a warrior, always. She was strong and capable and skilled, she was tough and knowledgeable. And yet somehow, beneath it all, she was still soft and kind and caring and empathetic, she knew exactly what her kids always felt, and she knew exactly what to say to make it better. When she her hand found the back of his neck, guiding him into her embrace, his face gently tucked in the crook of her neck, Neteyam found himself sobbing, finally able to let the pent-up emotion surface, all the anger, and sadness and guilt, and relief the last few days have brought washing over him and onto his mother’s shoulders, and she cooed affectionately, not saying a word. She knew there was no need for words, no words could ever made this better.

“She’s dead, mum. Oare’s dead.”

“I know…”

“Please tell me everyone’s alright. Please.”

“It will all be alright, son. Everything will be alright.”

It will be alright… Everything will be alright.

Oh, I'm holding my breath Won't lose you again Something's made your eyes go cold

“Alright, now that you’re back in our tent, where you belong, we thought we’d celebrate both your and Neteyam’s incredible iknimaya! You both did phenomenally, kids, and we are so, so proud of you both. The youngest to ever have done it, too! I mean, I don’t want to brag, but I’m pretty sure it’s all my training regi-“

Jake ceased his monologue as soon as he noticed the dead silence in the tent, and the awkward looks that Neytiri kept shooting him when she discerned both your and Neteyam’s gazes stuck to the floor, a cold look on his face and an uncomfortable one on yours, neither of you in a celebratory mood, neither really ready or willing to relive the Iknimaya and how a beautiful, ethereal day turned into a nightmare in hindsight, plagued forever by the ill-feelings now tugging at both of your hearts.

You stared at Neteyam, as did most of his family, even the young Lo’ak who could not truly understand what was happening, why people were quiet, but could still feel the atmosphere shift, the air thicken, the silence linger and weigh heavily on all the people present in the room. Despite it all, you kept staring, kept hoping that throughout the newfound ice that enveloped the golden aura that he always exuded, that was your home and your light, your biggest question and adventure, your safety net and peace all in one, the memory of that night, so beautiful and far-removed, would bring him back to the boy you loved, the boy you needed, the boy you missed.

He was silent, still, a frown on his face and anger clear as day in his beautiful eyes, that you barely recognised, that you couldn’t believe belonged to Neteyam, your 'teyam. You kept staring and kept staring, until you felt the so-far unflinching sadness and despondency stew and seethe, until it changed and evolved, until you felt the familiar bubbling of anger remove reason or rhyme from your soul, until all you saw in front of your eyes was red, and Neteyam was the one taunting you with the blood-coloured cloth dangled in front of your face. Neteyam wanted this? Wanted to dismiss you and discard you like a toy he outgrew? Fine. You would make sure he regretted it - you have always been wild and creative, and without him, you now had heaps of time to be both, at the same time, all towards him.

“Thank you, Jake. We couldn’t have done without your help and guidance all these years. Thank you for everything you and Neytiri and Mo’at have done for me, and I’m happy to tell you that, despite my momentary lapse in judgement, I am not going anywhere. I want to be here, I want to be part of your family if you want to have me, and I will let nothing stand in the way of that.”

As you talked, you rose from your spot to hug your adoptive parents, and they happily returned the gesture, pulling you tightly against their chests and pecking the top of your head. Lo’ak and Kiri joined enthusiastically and before long, you were suffocating in love and care and familial affection, Neteyam nowhere to be found. You were sad about it, you couldn’t help it, but for the first time in weeks the sadness was second-place, and so you found a small smirk haunting you at the prospect you were hurting him even a small amount - maybe a small fraction to the hurt he’s caused you, but there nonetheless.

“Also… do I get a special reward for beating the Iknimaya in record time, the fastest it’s ever been done? I feel like I’m well on the way to stealing Neteyam’s spot as the next Olo’eykte. Wouldn’t that be just a riot?”

Come on, come on, don't leave me like this I thought I had you figured out Something's gone terribly wrong You're all I wanted

"How is she?" Neteyam's eyes were heavier by the second, so tired and spent in light of everything that's transpired, in light of the bustling of crowds outside meeting what remained of the Na'vi forces that fought in a battle that while Neteyam wasn't sure, he suspected took more lives than he'll ever be able to live with. Kiri was quiet as she entered, and Neteyam was grateful for his sister, who stood with him most of the night, who checked in on you while the Tsa'hik was preoccupied with other, more pressing matters.

"The same, I think. She hasn't woken up, I don't think. She hasn't moved."

Kiri walked the length of the tent until she reached you, kneeling by your side and pressing the back of her palm on your forehead. She had something wrapped in a leaf that replaced her hand and Neteyam watched with curious eyes, hoping that by paying special attention to whatever remedy that was, it would work harder and faster, would bring you back screaming and thrashing and cursing him out, because if there's something that he's realised since your accident, it was that anything was better than the deafening silence that he couldn't escape and couldn't imagine living in for a second longer than he had to. Anything was better than this.

"Her fever's not going down. I think whatever it was she scratched herself on while she fell was poisonous. That, combined with the impact of the fall... she's lucky she's alive, Neteyam."

Neteyam couldn't help the shudder that took over his body. He didn't have any hair, the way that humans did, but he imagined if he did, it would all be standing up like blades of grass on the ground, taut and barely-moving in the warm breeze. He shifted slightly so Kiri could perch herself next to him, arms touching as she leaned on him, before placing her head on his shoulder.

"Why are you still here, big brother?"

Neteyam thought about it, until he couldn't anymore, because the thoughts weren't making sense, because they all contradicted each other, because he was tired and heartbroken and distraught, and losing Oare was obviously making him soft and delusional.

"You know you're in love with her, right? Please tell me you realise this, at least now, after all this time, in light of everything that's happened, in light of how you've acted it because of it. It's been so long, Neteyam. So long of us watching you be horrible to each other and hope that one day, you'd both wake up and realise the only reason you're acting like this is because you're too blind to see what's right in front of your eyes."

Neteyam's eyes widened progressively more with each word uttered, until they were so wide it hurt. To hear it out loud, spoken so casually, as if it were a fact, shocked the Sully man. Us? Who else thought this? Who else could possibly be blind enough to perpetuate such disparaging ideas that made Neteyam's skin crawl even at the notion.

"I'm not in love with her, Kiri. I can't be in love with her. After everything she's done... everything I've done... this can't be love. Maybe it was, once. Maybe I loved her once. Maybe I loved her so much I couldn't imagine my life without her." Neteyam sighed, looking at your face, tears pooling in his eyes as early memories of young Vi juxtaposed against later memories of you, so many memories he wanted to forget and banish from his mind, so many cruel, harmful, ugly memories that made up most of his view of you now. "But not anymore."

Kiri rises from her spot with a sigh, patting her brother's head with an exasperated sigh, before she leaves.

"You haven't moved. You haven't slept or eaten, you haven't blinked. Our parents need your help bringing back the injured, the clan needs your help as the future Olo'eyktan, and yet... you haven't moved. I think that says everything. The first step in solving any problem is recognising there is one, brother. The sooner you admit your feelings, the sooner you can work towards fixing your broken relationship."

Stood there and watched you walk away from everything we had But I still mean every word I said to you He will try to take away my pain and he just might make me smile But the whole time I'm wishing he was you instead

Desire burning deep in you was the only thing you felt as Akxo continued to trail kisses on your neck, a string of saliva connecting the purple lovebites that still stung slightly from when he marked you with them just a few minutes ago. With your eyes closed as they were, it was almost easy to imagine you were all alone, just you and this guy you’ve known your whole life but only recently realised had become a man, powerful and strong after just completing his Uniltaron just a few days ago. Despite your imagination, though, you were, in fact, not alone, nor isolated, but in plain view, propped against a tree of the clearing where you all trained in, that still had people working hard to improve on their skills, which is probably what you should be doing. But there was something so innately satisfying about doing this instead, as soon as Jake had to leave and tend to his other Olo’eyktan duties and left you and Neteyam in charge, doing it so he could watch, so he could stew in the bile that was his existence and know there’s nothing he could do to stop it, because he had no leverage over you and no power to hold over your head. Not now, and never again.

Jake had been wrong. Whatever it was that happened between Neteyam and you didn’t pass, not a few months and definitely not now, years later. If anything, it got a lot, lot worse. Because while in the beginning it was uncomfortable silence and cold and unwieldy dejection, it was now fire and blood, it was teeth and claws, it was anger and resentment. You recognised a lot of it came from you. Most of it came from you. Because Jake might have been wrong about some things, but he was right about others. You’ve never gone down without a fight - and if a fight was what Neteyam wanted all this time, a fight was what he was going to get. Because while he might have been comfortable with the quiet, you wanted yelling and chaos, to reflect the hurt in your heart that hasn’t diminished even after all this time. You wanted to make him pay for banishing you from his mind and heart, from his life that you used to know so intimately, and you were good at payback, and continued to get better over time.

“Are you trying to derail this whole fucking training session?” His voice, that you wanted to say hurt your ears, but if you were honest with yourself, it never could, not when it was melodic and beautiful, not when it still haunted your dreams, made Akxo straighten up faster than you could tell him to not bother, and you chuckled, a low and humourless sound that you’ve come to associate with dealing with Neteyam.

“Don’t tell me you can’t ever handle a bunch of 13 year olds, Neteyam. I knew you couldn’t do anything right without me, but still, this is low, even for you.”

“Akxo, I don’t think I’m making myself clear. She may be immune from the Olo’eyktan’s judgement, but you, my friend, are not. I’m sure there’s better ways to spend your days than wasting your breath on her. Trust me, she’s not worth it.”

“Ah, Neteyam, there’s no need to be bitter.” Your smirk only deepened as you ran your hands over your new flame’s abdomen. “One day, you too will find someone who won’t recoil at the thought of being in your presence, but you might need to work a little harder to not be so hard to stomach all the time for that to happen. I can coach you if you want, I mean… it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to help you, and I’m sure it won’t be the last.”

I know, I know I just know You're not gone, you can't be gone, no

“These are the last of them.” Neteyam tried not to recoil in agony at the sight of so many dead Na’vi and pa’li, so many ikran, so much loss, more than anyone should ever know, but especially their tribe, that has had to come to terms with grief in a way most other tribes aren’t, in a way that’s unnatural and premature and wrong. It was all so wrong.

Kiri was right, he had to help. He had to help not because it was his duty, but because it was right. He couldn’t keep looking at you, not when every second he did, Kiri’s words rang in his ears and made his eardrums pound so hard it felt like they were about to explode, not when every second he spent thinking of you was making him feel a mix of emotions that he didn’t, couldn’t understand, not when the exhaustion from the last few days made him question himself and ponder if his sister was indeed right all along. So Neteyam left you in that tent and put you under lock and key in the back of his mind, and dealt with the immeasurable loss that once more plagued his clan.

“Nawm Sa'nok, why?! My son, my son! There is supposed to be a balance! This isn't balance!” The wails of the woman, whom he’s known ever since he was born, that he can still remember playing with him when she brought his son over his family’s tent, hurt beyond comprehension. The usual peaceful, harmonious laughter and chatter intertwined with the sound of leaves rustling in the wind and soft, distant songs of animals and birds were gone, drowned by the cries and screams by the people that were trying to identify the dead, and figure out if life would ever be the same again.

"Neteyam, ma 'itan. He's gone, he's gone! Oh, Great Mother!"

Neteyam's breath got pushed out of his lungs at the impact of her body crashing into him, that he struggled to keep upright as she was buckling under the weight of her loss. Her son was a good warrior, and a friend. He couldn't come to terms with his death, couldn't understand what was truly going on, his mind almost protecting him from the overwhelming grief by numbing his thoughts, by removing him slightly from the realities clearly displayed to him, that he experienced almost like in a dream.

"It's going to be alright, auntie. We're all going to be alright." His mother's words, a mantra he repeated to himself every second, now the only thing that he could utter, the only thing that didn't feel redundant... even though it was.

Come on, come on, don't leave me like this I thought I had you figured out Something's gone terribly wrong Won't finish what you started

Well, here you were, ready to eat your words, as the curiosity got the better of you and you found yourself sneaking to Neteyam’s new hiding spot, that he didn’t know you knew about, that you found yourself coming to a bit too often to call it nonchalance and yet, you just couldn’t help yourself. It was an itch you had to scratch, seeing what he was doing, who he was with, finding new ammunition for your petty revenge, it was all for research purposes, you always told yourself.

Whatever you saw here, and there were some wild things, you always kept quiet and left without ever being spotted, maintaining your cover and whatever dignity you knew would disappear if your friends found out you were stooping so low. But somehow, right now, watching as Neteyam was whispering sweet nothings in a stupid little healer’s ears, telling her how good she’s taking his cock and watching her eyes roll back in her head, your blood was boiling.

You didn’t know why it was boiling, it’s not like you haven’t seen him fuck girls before, or try to, it’s not like this was a completely unusual occurrence, but it was new just how into it the girl seemed to be. How desperate for his touch, how needy to feel him. Your fingers twisted around a branch so hard it snapped and you ducked as their heads snapped into the direction of the noise. You were just mad that you lost a subject that you knew got under his skin. That’s it. That must be it, not at all because your mind was conjuring all the ways that you should be in that girl’s shoes, and how he should be making you feel this way. No man’s ever made you feel this way. No man’s ever made you cry, the way she was crying, gripping at his back and shoulders so hard his skin was broken and bleeding. You hated him, that’s all. That’s why your blood was boiling.

Well, he wouldn’t get the last word, not if you had anything to do with it. You returned to your spot around an hour later, half happy, half annoyed out of your mind that they were still going at it, and she was still screaming and crying, and he was still whispering praises in her ears, although they did have the decency to change position so at least you couldn’t see much anymore. With a wide smirk on your lips, you waited, until the unmistakable sound of footsteps echoed through the endless green forest.

"Neteyam, are you there?"

Jake sounded angry, and you stifled an evil laugh as you saw them both scramble to untangle themselves from each other and from the floor, the girl's cries no longer of pleasure as she couldn't figure out how to tie her top around her neck anymore.

"Nete-, oh, my fucking God!" English came naturally to Jake, even 20 years later, whenever he was feeling any extreme emotion, and you were happy for the strenuous effort you put into learning it as a child just for this one moment, right here. This was all worth it. "Kole, your mother was looking for you. Can you just- oh, fuck - can you just go and meet her, please?"

"Yes, of course, ma Olo'eyktan."

You were still grinning about the interaction and the ass kicking that followed a couple days later, as you came back to your tent for the night. The smile faded progressively as you neared the entrance, as small whimpers and pleasured groans could be discerned vaguely, coming from behind your tent, a small nook that only you really knew about or frequented, that now was obviously occupied, by a person whose voice you recognised all too well. No way. Sure enough, as you snuck around the tent, a continuation of whatever it was you interupted a couple days ago was well underway, and you bit down a curse, enraged at the way not only did you not, in the end, get the last word, but Neteyam's new hiding spot was just about to ruin whatever remainder of peace and sanity you had left.

When you entered your tent, a small piece of paper with some writing rested on your sleeping mat, yet another human skill Jake insisted on his family to know, that you now regretted.

"This is for ruining my hiding spot. Enjoy hearing all the girls who don't recoil at the thought of being in my presence."

Come on, come on, don't leave me like this I thought I had you figured out Can't breathe whenever you're gone Can't go back, I'm haunted

Neteyam watched as his father entered the tent, a heaviness that he rarely lets people be privy to wearing him down and slouching his shoulders. Neteyam couldn’t imagine what his father was going through, couldn’t imagine how someday, he’ll have to bear this burden and do it well, do it honourably and proudly and still keep a head held high and keep it all together so other people can fall apart around him.

Neteyam had mostly love for his dad - deep, unconditional love that will never falter, not even in the face of adversity, or in the face of the deep seeded resentment that Neteyam still had after the years of torturous training, of pressure put on his very young shoulders, of guilt-tripping and being blamed for his brother’s mistakes, of being pushed aside and replaced with you, the perfect daughter who could do no wrong in his father’s eyes. Even despite all of this, Neteyam loved his dad. And yet, watching him come in, sad and worried sick about you, his lips pursed in a straight line, words on his tongue that Neteyam knew were coming and was terrified of… the love faltered just a little.

“Mo’at said she got poisoned falling off her ikran.”

“Yes. Oare’s dead.”

“I saw her in the line-up.” His father turned his sights from you to his oldest son, sighing as his eyes set on him, anger flashing in his eyes briefly before composing himself.

“What the hell happened out there, Neteyam? We were counting on you. On both of you.”

Neteyam had no answer to that. He’s tried so hard to bury the thoughts, because he knew that if he succumbed to them, the guilt would eat him alive and pick its teeth with what remained of his frail bones. He didn’t think of how this was his fault, your fault, how if these stupid fights, that now seemed meaningless and daft, didn’t occupy so much space and time in both your minds, you would have slept, you would have not been tired and distracted, Oare wouldn’t have felt the nerves and fears emanating from you, and you would’ve done what you do best, inspire some people, kill others, be next to Jake, like you always were, like Neteyam was normally next to his mother, and get it done. The two of you were indispensable to the clan, as much was clear now. And although it wasn't fair, how much pressure there was on both your shoulders, it was the way things were. And now both of you will have to live with the consequences of your actions, will have to find a way to look the people in the eye again, knowing that you directly caused their family’s demise and the clan’s sorrow.

“Do you understand how serious this is, Neteyam? We lost good people today. Good people, strong people, dependable people. And the two people who I counted on the most left us all for dead, to fend for ourselves. This isn’t what I taught you. This isn’t who I raised, Neteyam. Even Lo’ak pulled his weight. We’re going to be reeling from these losses for the rest of our lives, and this has set us back months, and I need you to understand the weight of your actions.”

Another sigh and a frown that aged the Olo’eyktan by a good 10 years was the last sign of disapproval before his attempt to leave Neteyam by himself, but for the first time in his life, Neteyam couldn’t let that happen. He didn’t know whether it was his words, or the continuous battle with you that he’s had to fight for the last 7 years, all years in which he’s felt heartbroken, and resentful, and inadequate, and pushed to the side, and ignored, and worked to the bone for very little appreciation, or the fatigue wearing him down, or the loss of your ikran, or the guilt that’s been gnawing at him long before his father’s contribution, but for the first time in his life, Neteyam’s anger was directed at someone else rather than you.

“Understand the weight of my actions? Do you hear yourself right now? This whole mess, this whole shitshow that I’ve gone through, that we’ve both gone through, it’s all your fault. All of it. This is going to weigh on me just as much as it will weigh on you, and the loss of these people, of Eywa’s children, will haunt me for the rest of my life. Of our lives. So don’t sit there and talk to me about responsibility, and about losing people.” He couldn’t help look at your unconscious form, that more and more felt like your own body was trying to protect you from the sadness that would wait for you when you woke. “I lost the person I loved the most, that was my shelter from the storm, a storm you caused. All you do is push me, and push us, and I’m so fucking tired of it.” a sob is all it took for his father to rush to his side, concern and confusion deeply rooted on his face as it met Neteyam’s, when his hands found his face and rose it to his level.

“What are you talking about, son?”

Neteyam’s chest was heaving with unshed tears as he looked in his father’s eyes through the fractured, refracted lens of the liquid threatening to spill.

“I heard you.” One tear. “That night, the night after the Iknimaya.” Two tears. “I heard you telling grandmother how you want her to be Olo’eykte in my stead. How she deserves it.” Six tears. “I heard you… as you told her Vi would never have me. That she said she would never want to be my mate.” Too many tears to count.

“Oh, Neteyam…”

“I worked so hard, my whole life. I sacrificed more than anybody I know. And I did it all to please you, to live up to you. I did so you’d be proud of me, so you’d love me, and accept me. I did it all so I’d a good leader, a worthy Olo’eyktan, someone the clan can rely on to protect them.

I spent my whole childhood crying and aching, hating my life, wishing I could be anyone else instead, but I thought it would all be worth it one day because you told me as much, and that I have a title to live up to. And then I met Vi, and she changed everything… and I loved her, dad. And in one night you managed to take everything away from me.

Do you have any idea what that did to me? What the next seven years, in which we hated each other and competed for your love and praise, for your attention and affection, did to me? I’m there for everybody all the time. Every day and night, I am here for you, and for mum. I am here for Kiri and Lo’ak and Tuk. I am here for the clan. I am the mighty soldier, the doting brother, the dutiful son, the concerned clan member, the understanding karyu, the unbroken arrow in the quiver of your army.

Do you know there’s not a single day that I don’t hurt, that it doesn’t kill me inside, little by little, without a single soul to talk to, that cares or bothers to listen to my struggles?”

Sometime during that monologue, that Neteyam’s kept in his soul his whole life, he found himself in his father’s embrace, who was quiet and listened, who said nothing and just waited. Neteyam was sobbing in his father’s shoulder now, and he couldn’t find it in him to stop, like a spring that was buried underground with none the wiser until poked in just the right way, with unending streams now able to either fill a dam or flood a village.

“Neteyam… fuck. I’m so sorry, son. I didn’t know. Any of it, I didn’t know. Neteyam… you never said anything. You never brought up that night, and I wish you did, son… I wish you did because if you had, then you would know that those words that you heard… those words weren’t mine, Neteyam.”

There are very few moments where Neteyam feels like his soul has somehow exited his body and he’s experiencing a moment almost like from outside himself, like a stranger looking in. That’s how he felt now, as he could see himself removing his head from his father’s embrace, a dazed and almost uncharacteristic expression trying him.

“What did you say?”

“That night, if I remember correctly… we were talking about how well you did, both of you, in the Iknimaya. We were laughing at the fact you were both late, how I’d have to pretend to be mad and punish you, when in reality I not only expected it, but almost desired it, that you took that day to enjoy yourselves, to feel free of some of the burden I know I’ve placed on you.

I was reminded, seeing her, of her dad. Her dad who asked me to take care of her before he passed. Of the words he told me. That even back then, as nothing more than a child, he knew that she was special. That under other circumstances, she would have, no doubt in his mind, become the next Olo’eykte. That she was born for it, made for it. Those words always echoed in my ears as I watched her grow, and seen for myself the talent that comes so rarely, it seems almost like a fable. That I only ever saw in you. I considered it, making you both leaders at the same time - unheard of, maybe, but you both deserve it, you’re both made for it, and you used to complete each other, like two pieces of a perfectly fitted puzzle. That’s it, son. I would never want to replace you, Neteyam. I would never even think of it. Not only because you are my son, but because you are the greatest person I've ever met. Because there's no one else, there can be no one else.”

Neteyam saw his face drop, his entire body shuddering under the weight of the new information, that changed everything, that he could have known all these years and yet didn’t, that shifted Neteyam’s whole world on its axis yet again and he almost wanted to reach out and console himself, the man that looked as young and scared as a pup lost in the woods, like he used to look all the time before he met you, like he swore to himself he’d never look like again after he lost you. His dad didn’t want to replace him. He never wanted to replace him. What was he supposed to do now, with this momentous information that he never thought he’d get to hear?

“I’m so sorry, son, that you’ve had to bear this weight all by yourself. I’m sorry for my contribution in it, and that I failed to see how I made it all so much harder to stomach. Your mother and I love you so, so much, Neteyam, and we want to be there for you, but, son… you don’t talk to us. You keep everything buried inside. We can’t help what we don’t know. We try our best, and we’re so sorry we failed you… that I failed you. And about Vi… Neteyam, you have to speak with her. You’ve carried this in you for far too long. You need to let it out. Let her explain. Let her give you an answer, or closure.”

“What if she doesn’t wake up?”

Neteyam didn’t know if his dad was saying this more to his son or to himself, but right now, it didn’t matter.

“She will, son. She’ll wake up.”

The only other time Neteyam's left you since the accident was after the talk, the overwhelming urge to wash his face at the nearby river finally too great to be ignored. The water helped a little. It grounded him and nourished him, as much as it could, and Neteyam was slightly taken aback at the way his soul felt just slightly lighter, how his father's words, and the conversation he should have had years ago and didn't, changed so much in his mind. His father was right. Kiri was right. It was time to talk. Years and years of torture and pain, and it was finally time to talk. He just hoped you'd actually be there to listen.

Neteyam was startled by a frenzied Lo'ak, rushing to his side, panting as he put a hand on his chest, trying to catch his breath as he spoke.

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

"What do you mean, Lo'ak?"

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

You and I walk a fragile line I have known it all this time Never ever thought I'd see it break Never thought I'd see it

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

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mysecretlittlelibrary · 11 months

Text

All Things End

Pairing: Moonknight trio x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: I mean none specifically it's just a generally minorly sad fic lol

Genre: angst & kinda fluff

Summary: Finding out your boyfriend's secret drastically changes the dynamic of your relationship; "And all things end // All that we intend is scrawled in sand // Or slips right through our hands" - Hozier

***

The first time you met Steven was coincidence, a happenstance, courtesy of one of your friends- kind of. They share an apartment building and after visiting her you ran into the anxious history buff in the elevator, or he ran into you. You were already in the elevator, your friend Macy lives on the floor above his, and when it opened for him to get on he walked in without looking up from the papers in his hand and crashed right into you because of course you didn't react quick enough when he came careening in. His papers scattered and he jumped back so far a cat would be jealous.

"Going down?" You asked him lightheartedly, holding the door open button for him.

"Oh bullocks! I- I'm so sorry, I'll take the next one."

"Nonsense, half your papers are in here. Plus it's just me in the elevator. Afraid I'll bite?"

"No!" He shook his head so frantically you'd thought it might fly off.

"Well then get in. We can ride down together and you can pick up whatever it is that had you too enraptured to look up."

"I'm sorry. Again I- I hadn't meant to-" Steven had scrambled to grab his papers as the elevator door closed.

"Hey I get it. When the reading is good it can really take you to another world. No hard feelings." You chuckled. He offered an awkward half laugh in response before silence fell over you.

"Are you new here?" He asked after a moment.

"What?"

"Are you new? In the apartment building, I mean. I don't mean to pry I've just never seen you around before is all."

"Right well that's probably because I don't live here actually, I'm just visiting a friend. She lives above you."

"Oh." He frowned and you couldn't help but tease him a bit at the way he deflated.

"Why? Were you hoping to see me more often?" You winked.

"No!" He'd almost sounded indignant when he answered and then his eyes widened as if he realized what he said only after the fact. "Not- not that I'm opposed to seeing you more often it's just that well- we just met. I have no idea who you are so I can't really say I'm hoping for anything yet. A-again it's not that I'm particularly opposed to seeing you again or anything." He was rambling. You thought it was cute.

"Shame. I'd certainly be happy to catch a glimpse of you next time I'm around." You winked at him as the elevator finally reached the lobby of the building. He'd been too stunned to respond as you got out of the lift. "See you soon 7th floor." You'd tossed over your shoulder as a goodbye and left him to his own devices.

It would be a while before you saw him again, a month or so before you happened to catch him again. This time on your way up. He's coming out of the elevator as you're waiting for it.

"Ah, you're paying attention this time!" You joke.

"Oh! It's you again." He blinks at you. The two of you swap places, him getting out of the elevator while you get in it. You press the button for your friend's floor.

"Yes. Hi, mister 7th floor. Bye, mister 7th floor." You smile as the doors close. When you reach your friend's apartment you can't help but ask her about him.

"What do you know about the other people in your building?" You ask her.

"Ask whatever question you actually want an answer to." Macy chuckles.

"There's a guy who lives on the floor below you. Curly brown hair, olive skin, brown eyes, about this tall I'm guessing but he hunches over, he's super anxious although that could just be me making him nervous." You rattle off descriptors.

"If you're talking about who I think you're talking about no it's not you, he's always that nervous, at least every time I've seen him. I call him squirrely. I dunno much about him though, not even his name actually, he's quiet and minds his business, seems nice though. He's polite at least." Macy shrugs. "Why do you ask?" Her eyes narrow with a curious smirk on her lips.

"I've run into him a couple of times. He's- curious, so I was just gathering intel."

"Gathering intel? Stay away from him y/n you'll break the poor boy." She laughs.

"I'm not gonna break him!"

"Not on purpose but he's not the type you usually go for, I don't think he can handle you."

"Well, he's been holding up as well as he needs to so far." You say.

"Don't tell me you've already taken a liking to him."

"I dunno if I'd go that far yet we've only spoken twice but he is cute." You shrug.

"I mean- try if you must babes." She muses.

And try you did. Eventually. It was slow going before you even decided to head down that road. You ran into him a few more times first with a teasing line or two each time and ultimately after a series of 'see you around 7th floor's he gave you his name and so you asked him to dinner.

Your first date had been expectedly awkward. Steven was so nervous he rambled through most of your meal which, from anyone else would seem so unattractively self-obsessed you'd have blocked them before you even left the restaurant, but from Steven, it was somehow so charming to see him so animated. Maybe because you know it's a nerves thing and not indifference to subjects other than his own interests.

Several dates later Steven, to your surprise, asks you to be his girlfriend. You're still not sure where the confidence to initiate that next step came from, you always thought you'd be the one asking him to go steady if it got that far, which it did but he made the move. It was a bit rushed and awkward in the way Steven usually is but it worked for him.

"Y/n." He'd been walking you home from a date and stopped you at your apartment building before you could go inside.

"Yes, Steven?"

"We've been seeing each other for some time now and well I've really had fun getting to know you and all so I was wondering, I thought that perhaps at this point you'd consider making it official. With me. I mean only if you'd like to it's not necessary. What we've got going on is good too. I'm okay with-"

"Steven you're rambling." You'd had to stop yourself from giggling at his frantic sentences avoiding your eyes.

"Right. I'm just trying to ask... would you like to be my girlfriend?"

"I would love to." You'd smiled at him and kissed him faster than he could process. He was easy to fall in love with. Charming even through his perpetual awkwardness, caring, funny, and one of the smartest people you know. Everything felt, right when it came to him. You didn't have to question things with him. He made things easy, so easy it was strange to even consider that things would go wrong.

When you woke up in his bed this morning and realized he wasn't beside you, it was more than a little strange. First of all, you know he doesn't work today, it was his selling point in turning your date last night into a sleepover. There's no note and the stillness of his apartment makes it obvious he's not in the bathroom or in the kitchen or anywhere. It's still early too. You turn over possibilities in your head as you shuffle to the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face. Just as you complete those tasks and exit the bathroom having put on your moisturizer, you hear the door to the apartment unlock and swing open.

"You're back." You say.

"Yeah hey." The word sounds- wrong. As though, despite your eyes recognizing the man before you, your ears are hearing a stranger's voice.

"Steven?" You frown and he freezes immediately. It's as if he didn't even realize it was you he spoke to. There's a pause, it's only a moment or two but it feels so tense it might as well have lasted several minutes.

"Hello, love, I didn't know you'd still be here." He smiles awkwardly. Something still sounds off about his voice, the accent feels forced, and his tone is awkward in a way that even for Steven is out of place.

"You didn't know I'd still be here? That's- not exactly the greeting I expected." You scoff, crossing your arms. "Where did you go before 9 A.M. on a Saturday? And what is going on with your voice?" You ask. He's still again. It's like you can see a loading screen on his face before he speaks.

"I- uh well," his head tilts suddenly and he clears his throat. "I've been feeling a bit of an itch in my throat and wanted to slip out for some medication, perhaps surprise you by making breakfast even but it appears I didn't return quick enough. I'm sorry, and good morning by the way my darling." Steven's voice sounds better when he speaks again and he walks over to you to wrap his arms around your waist.

"You didn't mention an itch yesterday." You point out.

"I didn't want it to ruin our evening. No need to worry love it's nothing some tea can't cure." He smiles.

"Well, then I'll make you some tea."

"Nonsense, you're-"

"I'm your girlfriend of almost a year, I think there's no problem with making you tea, even if this is." You chuckle.

"Alright, if you insist. Thank you my darling." He smiles at you. Like I said, he makes things so easy. It would be strange to think something was wrong here. Right? You don't want to press the issue but there's a gnawing in the back of your mind that something is not quite right.

A girlfriend?! You've kept a girlfriend from me all this time?! How the hell did you even pull that off? The voice in Steven's head is angrily yelling at him in the reflection of the bathroom mirror.

"You had a wife once upon a time Marc. I think I'm allowed to date." Steven rolls his eyes, he's whispering though- so as to not alert you of the back and forth.

The problem isn't you dating Steven, the problem is I didn't know about her! And she doesn't know about us! What exactly is your plan huh to keep her in the dark forever?!

"You're overreacting."

You have to tell her or it'll ruin whatever thing you've got going on with her.

"No!" Steven shouts on accident, and you gasp at the sound of his voice.

"Steven honey are you okay?" You call looking at the bathroom door from the kitchen.

"Fine, love! Just- uh- dropped something!" He cringes at the not even remotely convincing lie.

Trust me Steven- it's the secrets and the lies that fucked things up with the wife you so conveniently mentioned earlier

"I'm not telling her Marc, none of this is her business. It's hardly mine even. Leave her out of it." With that order, Steven stomps out of the bathroom, taking a moment to calm himself before joining you in the kitchen.

You obviously didn't know it at the time, but that morning could probably be marked as the beginning of the end. After it, you started to notice weird things about Steven's behavior. Sometimes he'd leave suddenly with some half-assed excuse or you'll catch him talking quietly to himself and you can tell he's more tired these days but you don't bring it up. As strange as it all is you want to give Steven the benefit of the doubt. He's never given you a reason not to trust him.

You: Hey Steven, I left something at your place, gonna stop by to get it later tonight.

At this point, you and Steven have keys to each other's apartments so you shoot him a text before you leave work about something you left at his that you need to pick up. You'd gone over to his yesterday after work at his behest and ended up forgetting a flash drive when you left. When you get to Steven's you knock on the door a couple of times but when he doesn't answer you let yourself in. You just need to grab your drive and you'll be out as soon as you find it anyway. The apartment is empty when you walk in and you quickly find the flash drive sitting on the floor by the couch where you'd tossed your workbag the night before upon arrival. When you bend down to reach for it though, you hear a sound from somewhere in the apartment. You startle, you know Steven's not home so you scramble for a makeshift weapon, you think someone is breaking in. You grab one of the many books Steven leaves littered around his apartment and crouch behind the couch, out of sight of the window where you heard the sound come from. The window slides open quickly and you hear the intruder scramble through it, into the apartment. You don't give yourself too much time to think about it as you hurl the book at the stranger who immediately lets out a curse when the hardcover collides with his body. You're not sure where though, you ducked back behind the couch too quickly to see it land.

"Who's there!? I'm not in the mood to kill you but I will if I have to. Just so you know." His voice rings out in the small studio. You grab another book from the coffee table as silently as you can and prepare to chuck it when he inevitably finds you behind the couch. You poke your head around the side of the furniture to try and get a look at him. He's in some sort of costume, a greyish-white full body outfit that looks like it's made of mummy wrappings, and a hooded cape. If not for the fact that he's currently breaking into your boyfriend's apartment you might think it's cool, but under the circumstances, it seems silly and wrong for the situation. Like going to a funeral in a wedding dress, or the beach in a snowsuit. So wrapped up in your internal mocking you miss the moment when he sees you until he says so.

"Shit it's you." He says and you pop up fully because that sounds like recognition though you can't see him you definitely don't recognize the voice.

"Do you know me?" You ask, book in hand still ready to throw it at him if necessary. He holds up his hands in front of him as you watch the suit dissipate before your eyes and reveal your boyfriend, but not. It's his face for sure, you'd know it anywhere, but you'd heard him talk and that was not your boyfriend's voice coming from that body. Not to mention his demeanor is different, even in his placating defensive stance you can tell the man in front of you carries himself differently.

"It's just me. Steven." He says carefully. The voice you hear is so distinctly American coming from your very British boyfriend's mouth.

"Bullshit. I don't know what you are but you are not my boyfriend. What have you done to him?" Your hold on the book in your hand tightens as you prepare yourself to chuck it at the imposter's head.

"Nothing! I swear." He says with a small shake of his head. "Dammit Steven, where are you?" He grits out so quietly you don't quite catch the words.

"And I'm supposed to believe you?! You snuck into his apartment and you sound nothing like him. I'm pretty sure this is how the bodysnatchers movie works. Except you're really shitty at pretending to be him."

"I'm not a body snatcher." He scoffs.

"Right I'll just take your word for it." You roll your eyes. There's silence for a couple of moments and then something changes in the man's face.

"Darling... put the book down we- need to talk." This time when he talks it sounds exactly like you know Steven to sound. This only further freaks you out at this point and you hurl the book at him, immediately picking up another. He dodges the book you threw, just barely "Y/n!" He takes a step towards you but you hold up a hand.

"Stay. There. I don't know what is going on but if you come any closer I will scream so loud this entire building will call the police."

"Love I would never hurt you."

"How can I possibly know that? Why did you just sound like a different person? What was that... costume? Who- what are you? Is everything you've told me a lie?!"

"No. I am Steven Grant, your boyfriend of almost a year. I work at a museum gift shop. This is my apartment. I have... something called dissociative identity disorder. It means... my mind is fractured in a way. So while I am Steven Grant your boyfriend there is another- consciousness that shares my body. His name is Marc Spector and the uh, costume is his. He does... work for an Egyptian deity when I'm not working or with you. You've met Marc before actually. Months ago when you spent the night and I told you I was sick."

"Work?" You ask.

"Some would probably label him a vigilante of sorts." Steven shrugs.

"Oh." You say.

"Oh? That's all you have to say?" He frowns.

"You've been lying to me for months Steven be glad all I have to say right now is 'oh'." You say.

"I haven't-"

"A lie by omission is still a lie. If I hadn't come here to get my flash drive you would never have told me." You mutter. "I- I need to think. I'll call you." You say turning and leaving the apartment before he can say anything else.

The dissociative identity disorder part of all this you think you're processing very well. That's something you can make sense of, something you already know of and can research. This, part time vigilante business though you- struggle to wrap your head around. Steven doesn't hear from you for a week and it's rough. Marc tries to be there for him as best he can but the anxieties of you never speaking to him again are quite unbearable. Meanwhile you go to work. Like nothing is wrong, you go in every morning and leave every evening, trying to hold onto the things that aren't affected by the information constantly swirling in your subconscious, even when you aren't actively trying to come to terms with it. Steven is entitled to his privacy. He doesn't owe you every detail of everything that goes on in his life, it's not that. You've been together a year and- it hurts to think he still doesn't trust you. That's where your head is. Why else would he keep these things secret for so long?

Before another full week passes Steven has worried himself into an absolute state. Not eating or sleeping through the night he looks even more disheveled than usual. Marc can't stand it anymore and without Steven realizing it has marched the body to your apartment. At least if Steven saw your face maybe- maybe it would ease him slightly, even if you weren't ready to speak to him. The frantic knocking at your apartment door startles you as you sit on the couch. When you glance through the spyhole and see Steven with his messed up hair and tired, sad eyes your heart aches a tiny bit. You open the door with a confused frown on your face.

"What are you doing here Steven?" The words aren't harsh, in fact, they're almost quiet.

"I know you- said you'd call but I can't. I can't keep sitting with all the ways I screwed things up, wondering if you're ever going to speak to me, contemplating just how much you hate me, and- just tell me what to do and I'll do it. How do I fix things between us? I can't stand not speaking to you, not seeing you, not knowing if we'll ever be okay again." His words are frantic and the sentences almost feel jumbled with how fast he's speaking but you hear every desperation filled word.

"I don't hate you, Steven." You say flatly.

"How do I fix this? What do I do to make you love me again?" He asks.

"Do you trust me, Steven? At all?" You ask instead of offering an answer.

"More than anyone I've ever known." He answers so immediately it's almost enough for you to believe it.

"Yet, you keep these secrets that... say otherwise."

"I have no more secrets and- it wasn't just mine. Marc- he doesn't trust easily and he doesn't know you I couldn't- I didn't want to, expose him that way no matter how much I trust you it wasn't just about me. Please, you have to know I didn't do any of this to hurt you. I love you more than anything, you are my world. I can't lose you." Steven says and the look in his eyes makes you look away from him. You can't tell him what you're thinking really, that when people say something is forever either way it ends, so instead you say what will bring him comfort.

"You haven't lost me." You tell him. You don't think he has. You don't want this to be the end. So, you pull him into your apartment and his arms wrap around you so tightly you can hardly breathe. You let him hold you like that on your couch, as if he knows you'll slip through his hands if he lets go. You stay there listening to his heart beating in his chest, feeling the comfort of his arms, the heat of his body against yours, and you let yourself sink into those feelings. Eventually, his breathing evens out and you swear he's fallen asleep and in the quiet of your apartment, you murmur your thoughts out loud. "We didn't get this right but we did our best, and we will again." You say to yourself and you know, deep in your heart even if you can't tell him tonight. You know that all things end.

And just knowing that everything will end should not change our plans, when we begin again.

***

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #marc spector #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant #marc spector fanfiction #marc spector fluff #steven grant fluff #steven grant fanfiction #jake lockley fluff #moonknight #moonknight x reader #moonknight fanfiction #marc spector angst #steven grant angst #moonknight angst

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shinidamachu · 6 months

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kagome higurashi, occupation: it girl

We're constantly talking about what a fashion icon Kagome is, but I haven't seen many actual analyses of her style or how it got translated from the manga to the anime, so I thought it was a fun, innocuous discussion to have this @inuvember. I'm not an expert on the subject by any means, but here's a compilation of my observations.

The first thing I noticed is probably the most obvious: she thoroughly enjoys showing off her legs, which she does by wearing an obscene amount of skirts, rarely jeans and never shorts, not even as a PJ.

The interesting detail is that she mostly pairs them off with a top that would completely cover her arms and shoulders, which is smart because puts her legs even more in evidence and brings an elegant balance to it. Sundresses seem to be the only exception to that rule:

Now, when it comes to prints, the anime left me the impression that she favors solid blocks of colors rather than especific patterns, but comparing to the manga it's easy to see that's just not true.

Not only does Kagome rock any print she wears, she also seems to have a preference for plaid variations.

Sadly we only got to see in the anime through the sundress above and the iconic Day of Days outfit (the high school uniform doesn't really count).

She likes her flowery patterns as well, although that's only really a thing in the manga. Of course, I understand Sunrise probably toned down this aspect of her clothing choices to make them easier to animate, but we can still mourn it.

The next one is particularly sad to me because it was one of my all time favorite manga outfit of hers and they replaced it with one she had used before in The Soul Piper and the Mischievous Little Soul.

The same outfit was recycled again in Sota’s Brave Confession of Love. It was literally copy and past, except for the colors.

And to add insult to injury, this was the original look:

Another thing that was pointed out by @kagomehigurashi in this amazing post is that her "stay at home" clothes are incredibly versatile: she can go from very fashionable sweaters to her fun SHAM shirt collection just like that. But when she goes out, she goes all out.

Overall, I think we can conclude that her wardrobe was pretty colorful. Especially in the anime, there's not a lot of black, if any, and Kagome tends to go for pastel. She also seems to be a big fan of overlaying: her outfits are often completed with cardigans, coats or jackets.

Plus, I'd say comfort is a priority for her. The vast majority of her clothes don't seem restricting at all and her shoes consist basically on loafers, sneakers and ballet flats. Even the heel we saw her wear once was of a wedge type.

She rarely uses accessories, but she limits herself to one or two when she does. It's usually a purse and some jewelry or belt (at least in the manga). Her hair is always down except for the occasional braid (also only in the manga), PE ponytail and bath bun.

It could have been interesting if Takahashi had also used Kagome's fashion sense to showcase how much she changed during her journey, but Kagome's style remained extremely consistent. I guess she found it very early on what she was about. I'd describe it as romantic boho, but I don't even know if that's a thing.

What I do know is that it was far from basic, that she appeared to be having a lot of fun expressing herself throught it and that it felt more mature in the manga, even if most of them are just covers or bonus art.

#Inuvember #Inuvember 2023 #Inuyasha #Kagome #Kagome Higurashi #I think Kagome has very similar taste to Lara Jean Covey #I wish there was a Kagome doll with all of her manga clotes so we could buy it and play dress up like the Barbie she is #Sidposting

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acourtofthought · 5 months

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Lucien as a Mate

"Where is he keeping her"

"Tell me anyway. List all of them."

"I need to find her"

His own status as a mated male made him uninterested in any sort of female company these days.

"I'm a mated male now"

"I'm going with you." "I'm getting my mate back"

"Tell me about her - about Elain."

"What of - Elain?"

From the devastation on his face, I knew he'd heard every word. Seen and heard and felt the hollowness and despair radiating from her.

"Is...is there anything I can get you?"

I'd never heard my friend's voice so soft. So tentative and concerned.

"There's a plate of biscuits. Would you like one?:

But he couldn't breathe as she faced him fully. She was the most beautiful female he'd ever seen."

Her eyes were the brown of a fawn's coat.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"She needs fresh air"

"Take her to the sea. Take her to some garden. But get her out of this house for an hour or two."

"It wasn't just about what he thought - it was the...feeling. I sensed no ill will, no conniving. Only concern for her. And...sorrow. Longing."

"Let me do something. About Elain."

"I think she went through something terrible. And it wouldn't hurt to have your best healer do a thorough examination."

"Please tell me, what the healer says. And if - if you need me for anything."

"I'm sorry." "It - it was a tug. On the bond."

"I'm sorry - if that unsettled you."

"There's a bond - it's a real thread."

"No - I didn't have time. I felt her, but..." A blush stained his cheeks.

Lucien just stared and stared at my sister, as if he'd never seen her before.

He glanced at Elain, who was again studying her lap. "I'm not needed here. I'll fight if you need me to, but..."

Lucien looked back. Not to me, I realized - to someone behind me. Pale and thin, Elain stood atop the stairs. Their gazes locked and held.

Lucien inclined his head in a bow, the movement hiding the gleam in his eye - the longing and sadness."

Lucien, haggard and bloody, panting for breath. As if he'd run from the shore. His gaze settled on Elain, and he sagged a little. "Are you hurt?"

"I heard - what happened. I'm sorry for your loss. All of you."

""I heard you made the killing blow."

"He was a good man, "he loved you all very much."

"It would be my pleasure."

Lucien now stood in the sitting room, close to Elain's side.

"How is she?"

"But is she still..." "Does she still mourn him?

"The pain etching deep into Lucien's face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing."

You know what I love about Lucien's character?

We know he's experienced. We know he's an Autumn Court male with fire in his blood which is supposed to make them exceptional in the bedroom. And we know he's drawn to Elain on a very physical level.

But instead of SJM taking him the same route as say, Cassian with Nesta ("He tried not to think of what that hand would feel like on other parts of him. Gripping him: stroking him"), SJM turns Lucien's POV of Elain into something utterly romantic (her eyes were the brown of the fawn's coat, she was the most beautiful female he'd ever seen, trying to keep from shuddering when she merely says his name, showing restraint as he reels in any thoughts of touching her or tasting her). He's struggling with guilt over Jesminda yet he still can't help his poetic thoughts of Elain.

I think the physicality of Nessian's POV worked for them (though it's important to remember that Cassian also noted on multiple occasions that it was Nesta's cunning mind at work that really drew him in, not just the physical)

But Elucien to me will read as deeply passionate, where Lucien will refuse to admit his darkest desires, the things he wants to do to Elain and she to him until he's won her heart.

#lucien vanserra #elain archeron #pro elucien #elucien #pro lucien vanserra #elain and lucien #lucien and elain #elucien bond #acotar mates

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koolades-world · 3 months

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Hello is hug deprived anon again (this might be becoming my name oh no) and I’ve had an idea

I’m sure we can all agree that mammon deserves all the love, especially because his brothers are too mean to him, they pretend they don’t love him too constantly

So, what if Mammon is away for a week, doing photoshoots or dealing with witches or something, and MC is moping because they miss him,, like, they keep turning to their side to whisper to him and then like deflating when they see no Mammon,, and like, reaching out on that side to hold his hand and then being confused when there’s nothing there, and then they realize :( maybe they stole his blanket from his room because it smells like him, so it’s the best substitute for Mammon hugs while he’s away

Maybe Beel (idk if any of the other bros would be nice enough to tell him) is texting him like “your human is too sad come back soon” and sending him pictures of MC doing this stuff

When Mammon returns MC jumps on him for hugs like “you’re home!!!!!”

Idk I think he’d cry

I think he would feel very loved and probably also cry abt it

What you think? What do you think he’d do?

(If you choose not to write anything about this no worries obviously) (but I eventually might lol I think it’d be very cute and make him very happy to have someone who really misses him when he’s away)

HI!! haha if you want and plan to request more, feel free to pick an anon name! or I could just call you something like hug LOL

wayyy back when I first got into obey me in like 2021, there was this one specific fic I read kind of similar to his idea where mammon was upset at be mistreated and mc stood up for him and it was this cute bonding moment, and this request kinda reminded me of that!! gonna try to channel it a little bit

this idea is literally so cute and I'd be happy to write it! it makes my brain like a cat who has the zoomies hehe enjoy :D

How Ironic

You watched agonizingly as the clock ticked by even slower than usual. You'd been trying to do some sort of work, or anything other than stare at the damned clock forever now, but you just couldn't focus.

It had been exactly four days, six hours, and fifteen minutes and counting since Mammon had left for a week long promotional photoshoot in another ring of hell. You had your sad, but sweet send off and you promise yourself that time apart might be good for you. After all, it always felt like you could never get anything done with Mammon around. Yet, here you were, staring blankly at a clock with a blank piece of paper and pen in front of you.

Finally deciding to throw in the towel for now, you got up from your desk in your room. A walk to a local convivence store was in order. Snacks and fresh air wasn't a combo you could pass up. On your way out, you passed the door to his room which was slightly ajar. You briefly had the thought to poke your head in and ask him if he wanted to come, before remembering that he wouldn't be in there. You continued your walk to the front door, where you put on your shoes and grabbed a bag that had a few necessities in it for the short journey.

Thankfully, you hadn't passed any of his brothers on the way there, meaning you didn't have to explain yourself or have them ask to tag along. While you enjoyed their company, they weren't Mammon. If you needed help, you could always summon one of them thanks to the pacts, but you needed this short walk to clear your head.

The air was unfortunately stifling and overly humid outside, making you glad you were dressed light. It was basically just your pajamas but when you went out with Mammon, the two of you did this every time. As you autopiloted to your favorite corner store, your thoughts wandered back to Mammon again. You wondered how he was doing and if he missed being at home. You couldn't blame him if he didn't and hoped he was enjoying his time away from home as much as you wished he was by your side.

Once you got to the store, you wandered around for a bit, debating what to get. After grabbing a small basket, you began to pile in various things that sounded good. Once the basket was full, you came to the realization that all the snacks were Mammon's favorites; hell sauce flavored instant noodles, Chaos Devil Cider and ginger ale to mix, Devilbee honey popcorn, and a variety pack of Devildom gummies. This is what he introduced you to the first time you did a snack run together. You decided, in light of this discovery, to buy extras for him for when he got back. You figured he would enjoy it and it was the least you could do to thank him for introducing you to so many tasty things you would've not tried otherwise. Once you checked out, you returned back to the House of Lamentation with a new skip in your step.

You made your way back up to your room, and passed the ajar door of Mammon's room again. Memories of the two of you together flooded back again, and you couldn't help but step in. Just being in his room was like he was really right next to you again. You couldn't help but sit on his sofa and think about how much you missed him even though it hadn't even been a full week. His absence made you realize how much you missed his presence. After a moment, you decide to leave the snacks you bought for him on his bedside table so his brothers were less likely to wander in and find them before him.

As you were setting down everything you'd gotten for him, you something caught your eye just about to fall off the end of his bed. After you picked it off the edge of his bed, you realized it was the hoodie he always wore around the house. It was faded from lots of usage and the strings were fraying. You knew it smelt like his cologne and his shampoo from all of the tight embraces he'd given you while wearing it. You for sure thought he would've taken it with him, but it looked as if he had thrown it off last minute and thrown it on his bed without looking back.

Looking around as if someone might be watching (which could very well be the case since Lucifer was notoriously quiet), you pulled it to your chest and deeply inhaled. Of course, there was the chance that it was dirty, but you couldn't care less. It wasn't anything you hadn't seen of him before. Since there really wasn't anything stopping you, you took it back to your room with you. You weren't even really that cold, in all honesty. It was more of the idea that he was right next to you since it smelt just like him.

You continued your night like you had before you left, just with his hoodie on. You were magically much more productive wearing it and you managed to get several things done. Usually, you would be chatting with Mammon on the phone at about this time to talk about how your days were, but he was unfortunately busy with something work related. Instead, you decided to send him a sweet goodnight text and send a picture of your set up with the food and the show you've been watching one episode at a time. Not expecting a response before you called it a night, you turn your phone off and focused on eating and watching tv.

Beel wasn't sure what woke him up first: his stomach or Mammon blowing up his phone. Sitting up in his bed, he peered at his screen, squinting at it. He had at least twenty texts from his brother asking him to check on Mc for him after they hadn't responded to his texts. He wasn't sure if Mammon knew they were probably asleep or if he was just worrying for no reason. Either way, he decided to check on them for him anways. After his kitchen run, of course.

After letting Mammon know, he got out of bed and left his room. On his way to the kitchen, however, he ended up following the smell of cup noodles to Mc's room. There, he was able to complete both of his missions. He snapped a picture of Mc fast asleep with a couple half finished snacks, then took the snacks. Mission complete.

Mammon was only halfway through the only kind of dumb business dinner when he spammed Beel about Mc. He was more worried than he would admit to himself about them. He knew it was probably nothing and that they had fallen asleep, but Beel was usually awake at this time eating anyways. The food was nice and he was the star of the show, but the dinner was much too stifling for his taste. Most importantly, it was cutting into his precious time with Mc, something he looked forward to at the end of every day. He loved getting to hear their voice after being away from them for so long. He missed getting to see them in person, but getting to hear them was next best.

As he was poking at his food, he finally got the response he was waiting hand and foot on. Beel had responded with just an image at first, so he scrambled to open it. He breathed a sigh of relief. It was a picture of his beloved Mc fast asleep in their bed. You looked so peaceful but your face was barely visible because of the hood pulled up over your eyes. After squinting, he realized the hoodie you were wearing looked oddly familiar. He realized that that was his hoodie, the one he'd left on his bed when he was late the morning he left.

He could barely contain his excitement and it must had been evident on his face since those around him glanced at him, and then between each other a few times. He saved the photo to his phone, and texted Beel back a thanks. As everyone talked around him, he debating asking to leave the shoot early right then and there. If he left right now, he would be able to make it home before you woke up. While he entertained this thought for a while, eventually he decided to stick it out since there were only a few days left. As soon as he was allowed to leave, however, he would buy you something with the paycheck he'd be given. Something nice, maybe a gold bracelet that would remind you of him when you see it. He spent the rest of the night thinking, then dreaming about you. He could only hope you were doing the same. (you were <3)

After those final two and a half agonizing days and many texts later, it was finally time for Mammon to return home. For now, he decided to leave his car parked just outside the house, since he may or may not have been planning to take you out to dinner later that day. As soon as he walked in the door, one of his suitcases in tow, something, or rather someone, attacked him with a flying hug. At first, he was processing the situation as Mc began to squeal and squeeze him as tight as they could into a hug. He wasn't really sure where they had come from, but he knew who it was as soon as their arms were around him.

"MAMMON!" Mc swung the both of them around, buzzing with excitement. "Diavolo, I missed you so much. I don't want to let go of you. If you don't take me with you next time, I might die of sadness and loneliness!" Their arms were around his neck, and their face in his chest. He finally let go of his suitcase and hugged them back. He held them close, shutting his eyes for a moment to take it all in.

"I missed ya too. 's good to be back." He, again, couldn't stop the smile from growing on his face. His brothers never expressed themselves the way Mc was to him in that moment, so he wasn't quite sure how to feel. They never seemed excited to see him, so it was so refreshing to see Mc visibly excited and made him feel truly loved. All their time apart was worth moments like these.

As MC was squealing, a few of his brothers began to gather around the foyer around them. Perhaps they heard them, or maybe they knew he'd be back today at around this time. Either way, he waved at them, still keeping an arm around Mc.

"Guys! Mammon is back." Mc nuzzled his neck, still holding onto him.

"We can see that." Belphie remarked, sounding unamused. Mammon's smile faded a little. So, they didn't care that he was back, did they? He should've expected that from them. Actually, they probably wished he'd been gone for longer with the way they treated him sometimes.

"I talked to you guys about this. I don't expect you to do what I'm doing, but you need to show him you're happy he's back. You can't lie, he's irreplaceable! I don't know what I'd do without him, and I missed him so much." Just like that, Mc's words lifted him back up. Suddenly, he was no longer upset that his brothers didn't care. He had the attention and care from the person he thought about the entire time he was gone. "Shame on you all. Don't expect me to talk to you for the next few days. Let's get your things from the car, and go upstairs. We have so much to catch up on!" Mc only let go of his neck to grab his hand instead. They dragged him back out of the house, shutting the door with their foot behind the two of them.

"Mc, ya didn't have to do all that fer me..." Mammon glanced back at the shut door. His brothers didn't open it, or try to follow them.

"But I did! You're my first man, after all. I really can't express how much I missed you and just saying it doesn't feel like enough." They reached into the trunk of his car to begin taking out his suitcases. Mammon moved them aside gently, not wanting them to do even more for him that he felt as if he didn't deserve.

Mammon was silent for a moment, then decided to go digging through his backpack for the bracelet he'd bought for you. He hoped it would make it easier to tell you how he felt. "Here, this is fer you." He presented the small, black box to them. Looking caught off guard, they accepted it and opened it carefully. Your mouth dropped open as you saw the golden piece of jewelry he bought for you on the drive back.

"Mammon! This is beautiful. Thank you so much! But, I don't understand why. What's the occasion?" You removed it from the box and held it up to the light to study it. Several small charms hung off of it.

"That's the thing. There isn't one." He took a deep breath and looked down at his feet before continuing. "I just... yer so good to me. Ya texted me daily, called me daily, thought about me while I was gone, and even waited fer me like that so ya could surprise me when I got back. Ya care, and I know I'm not the best with showin' I care and it makes me feel shitty. Thank you, fer everythin'. I really missed ya." He couldn't see how Mc reacted, but was essentially tackled into another hug again by them.

"Mams, you show me you care in little ways. Just because you don't say it, doesn't mean that you don't. You just being back here with me is more than enough." He immediately thought about how ironic the entire situation was. He never actually told them how he felt and treated them like garbage sometimes, and he thought it might've been pushing the person he cared for most away, but really, he never had to worry about that. he'd never considered that they could see past his inability to admit his feelings. He hugged them back, savoring the moment since this time they were alone.

"Thank you Mc." He held back happy tears.

"No, thank you! Thank you for always being by my side. Now, instead of actually unpacking, let's just lock the car and sneak back inside. Maybe they'll eventually feel sorry and come looking for us, but we'll actually be hiding right under their noses. It'll be like a spy mission." Mc giggled leaning back to see his face. Mammon let them look him in the eyes, glistening tears and all.

"Yeah, let's do that. We can watch that movie ya wanted to watch and just share headphones." He found himself joining in with the quiet laughing along to something he wasn't sure either of them really understood. Something he did understand however, was that he knew he was loved back by the one he loved the most, and couldn't ask for more.

#almost published this unfinished and with all the notes I leave to myself #wouldve been so embarrased #if i have a million ideas but no time i just kinda word vomit it all out so later me can use the ideas in the way now me intended #and so i don't forget lol #i'm very forgetful lol #hug deprived anon!#obey me #obey me!#obey me x reader #obey me beel #obey me mammon #grr had a whole battle with the divider the entire time I wrote #not proofread lol #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me mc

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