Tumgik
#this one was so hard!!! i realized i didn't have any of the right crystal colors and it'd clash hard with the ground
xylo-art · 3 months
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The suffering is inedible :(
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theblueflower05 · 1 year
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Crawling Back to You
(Part Two of First Love/Late Spring)
A/N: So like, I’m really excited that you guys seem to be digging this story. I was hesitant about it just because there’s so much of my own Na’vi/Metkayina lore thrown in there. Thank you for all of the kind response.
Word Count: 8k+
Warnings: From here on out, this story will be extremely explicit. Minors DNI. If Aged Up! Neteyam isn’t your thing, please exit to your left. Let’s all respect each other's boundaries, please.
Angst. Self deprecation. Alcohol consumption. Smut. Mutual masturbation. Fingering(fem receiving). Nipple sucking. Breeding kink. Scent marking. Public sex(if you squinttttt)
Summary: Neteyam returns from his Motnaui and isn’t in much of a celebratory mood when he realizes that he’s scrapped any chance of having a mate for Fertility season…or has he? Neteyam x Reader
Series Masterlist(all parts can be found here)
Previous< First Love/Late Spring
Next>: Bottom of the Deep Blue Sea
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Secret's that I’ve held in my heart
Are harder to hide then I thought.
Maybe I just wanna be yours- Artic Monkeys
The brilliant Pandoran sun beats down on the crystal blue waters, fragmenting into bursts of light under the surface of the waves.
The Motnaui is intense, Neteyam’s lean frame isn't made for the open ocean but over the months as he trained intensely with the Metkayina hunters, he gained muscle he didn't even realize his body could retain.
His shoulders are broader and thighs thicker. He can keep up with the clan, he can help row the boats without his arms giving out on him.
Neteyam hasn't felt this way since they had fled the safety of the forest. He’s useful again. He’s worked hard to regain his title of Hunter.
Warrior.
Brother of the people.
He sense’s it as they jump between the endless maze of isles. Hunting and sleeping on the beaches under the open night sky. Swapping stories around the small campfires.
They don't see him as an outsider anymore. No, he is Metkayina. All of the hunters treat him as such. Clapping his back. Embracing him tight. Sharing in the whopping joy as he makes a clean, merciful kill.
They listen to the Omaticayan legends he tells the and fill him in on the lore of the sea.
The four days out at open ocean are needed and he feels sure footed now. Knows that he will always have a place in Awa’atlu. He can't wait for Lo’ak to complete his Iknamaya next cycle, to get to feel this feeling of deep belonging. Of acceptance.
The tattoo forever etched into the the skin on his on his shoulder burns. Throbs all the way down his elbow, ends right above his wrist. The permanent swirling ink a symbol of his place among the reef.
His third birth is as beautiful as his second. He is a man, twice recognized.
Neteyam reminds himself of that fact as he sits down next to Tonowari one night. The stars are sparkling and the dimming light of the dying fire makes the hulking chief look larger than life.
Still, the younger man gathers his courage.
“I wish to mate with Y/N” Neteyam states firmly. He had been Olo’eyktan in training for over a decade back in the forest. He uses the voice he’d take on when speaking of important matters “I would like your blessing to do so, sir”
Their brothers and sisters in the hunt surround them. Either asleep at the late hour or lost to their own conversations.
Or maybe they just know not to interrupt this important exchange. They only listen in with peaked ears and envious hearts.
Tonowari’s features go stern, his strong brows pulling together “Before my T’smuke returned to the great mother, I promised her that I would always take care of her daughter as though she was my own. I love Y/N as I do my children. Do you understand that, Neteyam?”
Neteyam is nodding “Yes sir, of course”
“She is a good woman. A very important member of our community, if I allow this courtship I have to be certain that you will honor that. That you will honor her place among us, and be serious about what that means for your own”
Neteyam mules over the words, thinks he knows what they mean. He will be marrying into the royal family of the Metkayina. He will be bound by blood to the clans chief. His future children will have a claim to the title of Olo’eyktan or Tshaik, third in line should anything ever happen.
“I am very serious about her, I will work hard to give her all that she deserves. I will build us a Mauri to raise our family in. I will dedicate my life to her and the tribe” It is not a vow lightly made, Neteyam knows this.
He had never been one to be fickle about responsibility.
It’s only when the intense expression on the Olo’eyktans face shifts, a broad smile stretching across his mouth, that Neteyam feels his posture untense.
Tonowari claps him hard on the back and offers him the leather flask of strong liquor that the hunters pass amongst themselves-
“Then you have my blessing” Tonowari laughs as the younger Na’vi man almost chokes on the burn of the Kava.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
When they return to the main island of Awa’atlu with their abundant catch they are greeted warmly by the clan. The giant horns are blown, drums play rhythmically. Children scream joyously and women dance scantly clad in ceremonial drab.
Its busy and blustering but there's only one thing on Neteyam's mind.
Only one person.
The same woman who had plagued him since his arrival all those months ago. You’re as elusive as the receding tide and he had become accustomed to having to look for you. To having to seek you out in a crowd, to go searching for you.
You hadn't seen him off and he hasn't spoken to you in many days. He misses you. It's an ache that he wants to soon remedy, that he knows he’ll never have to feel again. Not with Tonowari’s blessing fueling him.
Since he was young, Neteyam had wanted to be bonded.
He’d dreamt of sharing that special connection with another individual; the way that his parents did. He craved someone to cherish him, to take care of him and in return he’d do the same for them. He itched for a woman to braid his hair, to bear his children. To bury his cock in every night and wake up to every morning.
He was a simple man with a big heart and a lot of love to give. And he wanted to give it to you.
He just has to find you first.
Neteyam tries not to worry when he can't catch sight of your petite frame. Not one peek of your long hair or seafoam eyes. He couldn't scent the natural perfume of florally herbs that always seemed to surround you-
“Neteyam!” It’s Tuk.
She collides with him hard. Many years of being a climbing post for his siblings is the only reason he doesn't topple over. Is able to catch her mid air and hold her to his chest.
He’s greeted by his family-
And only a moment passes before he can notice that something is wrong.
It’s written all over Kiri’s face. In his mothers expressive eyes and the glances his father throws him as he embraces the Olo’eyktan from across the way. Even Lo’ak gives him something akin to a small glare.
“Whatever is going on, it will have to wait” Neteyam decides out loud, slowly lowering his baby sister to the ground. “I need to find Y/N, have any of you seen her?”
Kiri’s mouth opens and shuts, as though she’s trying to figure out what to say and it frays his nerves. His legs are antsy, burning with the need to run. To seek you out- still on the high of the hunt.
“I don't have time for this-”
“Brother, wait. It is about Y/N” Kiri grabs his elbow, keeping him still.
He doesn't like her tone.
Likes the expression on her face even less. She looks too serious, it doesn't suit her at all. Kiri had always been as airy as a tree sprite- carefree and bubbly.
Call it a gut feeling or the simple ability to read the room. He just knows whatever she’s about to tell him isnt going to be pleasant.
“What happened?”
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
His sister pulls him aside, into the mangrove tree’s and away from prying eyes and ears so that she can relay what she’d heard. Fill Neteyam in on what he’s missed.
He listens to every word…and they settle like stones in his stomach.
“Y/N thinks that you have accepted an offer of courtship from another woman”
“I didn't- I’d never!” Neteyam hisses in protest, shaking his head. It’s all one big misunderstanding. He has to make find you, shake these thoughts out of your head. Make you see-
“But you did,” Kiri replies firmly, her mouth pulled into a grim line.
She explains the meaning of the Lei’s.
The gravity of him accepting one from another female and Neteyam hasn't felt so small in many years. He’d been forced into adulthood early. Taken care of his siblings from a young age and then was thrust into the war with the RDA before he had even fully come out of adolescence. He was wise beyond his years, that’s what everyone had always told him.
He doesn’t feel that way now.
He’d fucked up, made a mistake that could very well cost him the future that he had worked so hard to secure since coming to the reefs-
And he hadn't even meant to! He’d been as naive as a baby, as ignorant to Metkayina traditions as an untrained child-
He wants to scream in frustration. Wants to kick the absolute shit out of himself. Instead he listens to his sister, his hands shaking as he balls them into fists.
You had been devastated. Heart broken. Wouldn't talk to anyone or come out to eat. Couldn’t stop crying-
“Enough” He pleads, he can't hear anymore of it. Guilt rises in his chest like bile.
Imagining what the last days had been like for you as he’d spend them having the time of his life, galivanting with other hunters. Getting drunk and having carefree fun-
“Kiri, what do I do?”
She sighs. It’s so rare to see her older brother like this. He’s always so solid. So strong and stable. It’s unnerving when he loses his composure. When his carefully built walls come down
She had known that the whole thing was a miscommunication and had tried along with Tsireya to convince you of that fact. But you wouldn't hear it, and avoided her at every turn.
You and her brother are both such stubborn dumb asses. Rubbing at her temples Kiri prays to Eywa for strength. Sully’s stick together.
“We fix this”
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
As the evening eclipse starts and the sun disappears in the sherbert sky the beach lights up.
Bonfires roar, their flames tall and burning bright.
The air is filled with the smell of roasting Paokpak(island boar) and fish. Huge pots full of dishes that Neteyam had never seen line the long wooden table set up at the center of the celebration. Barrels of Kava have been brought out. The strongest of Metkayina liquors, brewed and stored for decades in airtight containers. Made from berries that are extremely hard to harvest.
This is a time for celebration, to gorge on the hard earned harvests the hunters have brought back. To celebrate the newly rited adults and prepare for the Fertility Season.
The beat of the drums is hypnotic. It's sexy and primal. It's a tune that all Na’vi know in their chest, one that their hips move to as if of their own accord.
Children play, Women sing, stories older then the briny deep are told. The air is electric; so full of magic and unity.
And yet, Neteyam is on edge.
He had been since his rude awakening earlier in the day. He’d spent his afternoon running around like an Austrapede with its head chopped off. Desperately trying to solve the issues that he hadn't meant to create.
After hunting down the culprit to all of this mess, a pretty lei made up of sunset orange lilies which he’d given to Tuk almost automatically after it’d been given to him, he returns it to its owner.
Seychelle is haughty. Rightly upset and shrilly confused as she takes the token of her affections back. Neteyam’s apology is poor and he knows it, he backs away before she can throw her drink in his face.
Tsireya had told him this was the only way to remedy the issue- to refuse the offer for courtship so that he could be open to be with another. The younger girl had been so relieved when he came to her, begging her to help him win back your affections.
“I knew you are a good man, that you don't have a mean spirit”
Tsireya is as eager as Neteyam to see her cousin happy. She doesn't think she could spend another night listening to your inconsolable weeping.
The last obstacle is the hardest.
You refuse to be anywhere near him. Are forced into the festivities because of your family standing, but pretend that Neteyam simply does not exist.
At every turn you evade him.
Sandwiching yourself between the hulking muscle of Ao’nung and Tonowari at the buffet table. Dancing in an enclosed circle of swaying women. Flitting away in a plume of smoke when he approaches you with your favorite ripe fruit in hand; leaving him standing there stupidly. Palms stained by the juice of the Lionberry as he squeezes it in frustration.
You’re hauntingly beautiful in the firelight.
He hates the fact that he’s not the only who notices it. The way the other males consume you with their carnivorous gazes makes him sick. His fingers clench and his knuckles crack of their own accord.
Long dark hair pours down your back in bouncing waves. The top that you wear clings to you like a second skin; the pearls and seashells glittering in the warm hue of the flames. Your own Lei, pink and pristine, is still resting on your throat. Many intricate bracelets and anklets clink as you walk and he cant take his eyes off of the way that the back of your tweng sits on your pert ass-
“Go talk to her” His dad suggests gruffly as he watches his son watch you. It’s getting hard to stomach at this point, all of that longing palpable and souring the atmosphere.
“She doesn't want to speak to me” Neteyam mutters. Trying not to feel too bad for himself. And failing.
Neteyam hadn't thought his return from Motonui would be like this. He’d envisioned a lot more kissing, and alot less moping.
“Woman aren't as complicated as they seem, son. You don't need some grand gesture-”
“Says the man who tamed Toruk after his first fight with his mate” Neteyam interrupts and Jake snorts at his unusual outburst.
His eldest son is usually so very put together- it's entertaining to see that a woman could bring out this side of him.
“I have nothing to offer her. Back home in the forest I could have given her- everything” Neteyam sighs as he admits what's been on his mind since he’d begun pursuing you “There’s no reason why she’d want to be with me, I’m aware of that”
Jake pulls his son close.
His first born. The apple of his eye. Neteyam was good to his core, and anyone who knew him could see it. Jake was so proud of him and wondered if this lack of self confidence came from the fact that he probably didn’t tell the boy of that fact enough.
“All that girl wants from you is reassurance. That’s all you need to give her, everything else will come with time. If she wanted to mate for status she would’ve done it long before you got here, kid. ”
Jake had been shitty at motivational speeches since his stint in the military. You would think his time as reigning Olo’eyktan would have given him some kind of skills. But still, his words are a bit clunky. But sincere.
After a moment, Neteyam gulps at the Kava in his hand. Drains his cup and then squares his shoulders before he’s off.
Eyes set unyieldingly on the prize.
Jake grins. If a good ol’ pep talk doesn't do it- liquid courage sure will.
You’re half heartedly participating in the conversations going on around you, just distracted enough that Neteyam’s able to stalk over. Unnoticed until he’s standing right infront of you-
“Y/N” His voice is firm, he wonders if you know how hard it is for him to keep it as such. “I see you”
Up close he can see how swollen your eyes are. How exhausted you look. You just nod, muttering out a quiet “I see you” in response.
Everything about your body language screams that you want to be left alone. Your arms are crossed over your chest, your ears tipped low. Your tail curls around your ankle and your nose keeps scrunching up.
He wishes he could let you be,
But you make him selfish. You bring out a side of him that wants to take. Has to be satiated or he’s going to lose his fucking mind.
“I must speak with you” He states his intentions, clear. Ignores the way Ronal glares daggers at the side of his head.
“I don’t think-”
“It will only take a moment. But I ask for the privacy to explain myself to you. If after you hear my words you still do not wish to talk to me I will respect that”
You glance at your family before responding to him. Sharing a look with both Ronal and Tsireya. Your cousin smiles encouragingly, your aunt gives a barley tolerant tilt of her head.
You sigh and nod, but step away from his hand when he offers it to you. It's an obvious rejection, but Neteyam tries not to dwell on it. His tail flicks anxiously behind him.
“We may speak in private. Come” your voice is low, before you begin to lead him away from the festivities. Down the beach until the firelight is in the distance and the beat of the drum is a low hum on the howling wind.
The storms will start soon. The sea is choppy, the clouds rolling in and the breeze cool.
It’s hard to find privacy on the sandy shores, intertwined couples can be found scattered along the waters edge. Lips locked. Speaking lowly and intimately.
Neteyam is pretty sure that one of his fellow hunters has his mate twisted into a mating press- if her breathless whimpers are anything to go by.
He avoids their writhing bodies, ignores the way it makes his own core tingle.
Fertility Season is all but here. The entire clan falling under its low boiling energy.
All he could think about as he had been out on the open ocean; is that this cycle he wouldn't have to spend it alone.
He’s not sure that is the case anymore.
After more walking, completely in silence, the two of you come to a mostly desolate area. Quiet and still, as private as it’s going to get.
You stare out at the cresting waves and Neteyam knows he needs to say something, anything. But all he can to is look at you.
At the way that the moonlight illuminates your silhouette, at the dusting of turquoise bioluminescent freckles that are scattered across your nose.
“I-Um-” You start, and that wont do. He cuts you off quick.
It is only him who needs to explain himself. “Let me start by apologizing to you. I am so sorry, Y/N”
You appear as though you’re going to start crying and if you do, he’ll lose all his carefully cultivated cool.
So he presses on.
“I had no idea that accepting Lei’s was a courting symbol here. I don't know how to make you believe me but if I had know I would’ve never-” Neteyam lets out a long shaky breath “I can only swear to you that in the future I will be more mindful of your clans traditions”
Time ticks by. The moon shines and the waves crash against the shore.
“Our clan” you break the silence, your voice gentle and melodic. “You passed your Iknimaya. It is your clan as much as mine”
He wants so desperately to hold you. He has for months, but the need is almost unbearable at this very moment.
“If I have lost my chance. Please, tell me now” it’s a plea. Because it hurts to look at you. If he can not have you- if you do not want him, he will accept it. Somehow. But being alone with you like this and not knowing is killing him. “I will…I’ll leave you alone, if you want me to”
You scoff, not looking away from him. Refusing to meet his eye, still staring blanky at the waves. “You act as though I am the one who accepted someone else’s offer. I have never wanted you to leave me alone, Neteyam”
“I’m sorry” Does he sound as idiotic as he feels? He surely hopes not.
“You already said that”
“Please, look at me”
“I can’t” you whisper- hissing at him warningly when he outstretches his hands “I- I don't want to ever feel like this again. You need to tell me what you want from me because I do not know. I will get confused again, if you do not tell me what we are doing”
He can tell by your expression that you are serious, and even so. He cant fucking believe it. Had he failed at courtship so immensely that you really don't know? He’s stuck in his head for a moment too long.
It makes you anxious, makes you back even further away.
“Please-” He’s all but begging, yet
you avoid his touch again and it feels like blades.
Your shrill warning hiss rings in his ears.
He returns it with a snarl of his own when you continue to refuse to let him touch you. Can't help it, the need to rebuff all of this uncertainty around the union that is so special to him is strong.
He grips the top of your arms, his long fingers holding your biceps.
You finally look at him. Your round eyes wide and vulnerable. Filled with unshed tears and unspoken questions.
“I want to mate with you” He starts because if you need to hear it all, word for word, then he’d tell you. “I want to build my life here with you by my side. I want us to have a home that will never know war-”
A tear rolls down the swell of your cheek.
“I-I want you to choose to be with me” He swallows, the lump in his throat getting bigger, higher. Threatening to choke his vocal cords “I will be good to you. If you let me”
His family had always required him to be the rock. Had leaned on him to take on the role of caretaker, he had had to keep it together. Keep them together. It wasn't easy for him to break open like this. It went against his very nature, all that self preservation he’d learned early.
But you need this. And he thinks he might too.
“Neteyam-”
“I will ask you again. If I have lost my chance tell me now”
Have mercy on him.
“I understand if you want to be with someone who can offer you more. I won’t fault you for it” he doesn’t know why he feels the need to tack that on. Why the self deprecating thoughts manifest their way into words that hurt for him to speak “I don’t have much here. But I’ll build it, for you”
Your muscles tense under his palms and he prepares himself for the rejection. The physical blow of it-
But then, you melt. Loosen. Your entire body sags fully into his grip. That pinched expression on your face slips away. Your full lips part and your eyes soften, brows furrowing together.
You look at him like he is something precious. Like you can see him- and he thinks you might be the first one who ever has.
He’d known it in his bones. Since the day he’d arrived. Since he’d first spotted your face in the crowd.
“Oel ngati kameie” you whisper, your hand coming up to cup his jaw. “Oel ngati kamei, Neteyam. I see-”
He leans heavily into your hand. His forehead clunking against yours, pressing hard. The contact stings, but its welcome. He needs it.
He needs.
“I don’t care about any of that. I don’t care what you have or don’t have. You know I don’t.” you murmur urgently, he can feel the words against against his skin.
When you press a whisper light, tentative kiss against the sharp of his cheekbone, something snaps. Something that had been strained and barely held together just breaks.
His control, he realizes as he crowds you.
As his fingers dig into your arms and he presses the line of his body against your own firmly.
You’re so soft everywhere. So much smaller than him. He’s all lean muscle, tall and hard. You’re pliable skin, a layer of blubber to keep you warm in the deep. So different from the women he’d grown up with. Your hips are wide, thighs pillowy.
You’d give him healthy children. His hindbrain howls.
When he captures your lips he hopes you realize that there’s no going back. That this is until death. He’d go to his grave before he was robbed of this again.
You gasp, sweet and small, and he eats it. Consumes all of the air in your lungs. You’re good at holding your breath anyway, right?
“Neteyam” you whine, pulling away, your lips wet and your pupils wide. You’re shaky, already a bit disoriented and he wants to keep you. Protect you. He’ll give you anything if you just keep looking at him like that.
“Are you ok-”
You reach up on the tips of your toes, slamming your lips back against his before he can finish his words.
Your hands tangle into his braids as you try to gain traction, pull him down to your level. Get a better hold on him.
Its intense, dizzying. You kiss him like you’re dying and maybe you are. Maybe you’ve been slowly dying since he first got here. Every moment that you hadn’t been able to be held by him had killed you- a slow torturous death.
You drag him down. Do you know he’d follow you anywhere? Under the waves, down onto the soft sand. He cups the back of your head, shelters your neck as he bullies his thin hips between your dense thighs and pressed you against the ground.
The months worth of tension isn't released gently, because it can't be.
The kisses are bruising. Wandering hands and desperate tongues. It’s carnal, Fertility season making both of your minds cloudy as you try to dig into each others flesh.
Nothing is close enough.
With a whine, your fingers slip under Neteyam's multilayered choker. Using it as leverage to tug on as you thrust your hips up violently. The heat at the apex of your legs grinding against his covered erection dangerously.
“Ah-” he gasps wetly “Easy, Narlor. Easy”
“Sorry” you simper, panting. Trying to get a hold on the feelings rushing through you. One hand gripping his necklace, the other slipping into the back of his hair, brushing the nape of his neck “I want- I dream about it all the time”
Fire rushes down Neteyam’s spine, both at your words and your feather light touch to his kuru. He wonders if you touched yourself after those dreams. If you had to take the edge off like he had. He shudders at the thought-
You’re kissing at his neck again, at all of that sensitive skin under his braids, near his ears.
Your quick touches are everywhere. Rushing all over his body. Manicured nails scraping over his skin-
“Ugh,” he warbles out as your curious hand disappears under his tweng.
Its a tight fit as your fingers dance along his hard cock. Delicate and teasingly light. He’s going to come all over himself like some inexperienced teenager that had never gotten a taste of pussy before if you don't. Slow. Down.
“Tell me about those dreams of yours. What’d we do in them?” Neteyam teases, his lips moving against the corner of your mouth. A distraction for both you and himself.
You can't form words, not as you feel how big he is. As you cherish the fact you’ll never be empty again. He's hard and pulsing in your hand and you want him inside of you. Your mouth, your cunt. You don't care. You want to be the only one who gets to feel him, no one else can ever-
There’s only one way to ensure that.
“Tsahelyu” you whimper, “Please Neteyam. Need it”
He slows down a bit, his head spacy but not totally lost. The bond is everything. It’s the most important aspect of Na’vi culture “I can't bond you here”
“Why?” its a petulant whine, your hips pressing against his again.
“I’m not going to bond you on the cold ground, Yawne. Out in the open”
“It’s okay, I don’t mind” you press and he chuckles, shaking his head “you could have me anywhere you want me”
It’s the raw honesty in your voice that drives him crazy.
Devotion in a way that makes him lightheaded.
He can't give you Tsaheylu yet, he wants it done right. He wants you tucked in a mountain of blankets with a warm fire going- at the height of Fertility Season. The ancestors watching over you as he intertwines himself into your soul for the rest of time.
“I will have you” He assures you, dragging his mouth across your clavicle, his long fingers working the strings of your intricate top loose “And you’ll have me. But you have to let me do it right”
You hate waiting. You tell him as he suckles his way across your chest. Moaning as he finally gets his mouth on your soft breasts. Your fist his braids, shivering as he feasts on your skin.
“I’ll make it worth your while” Neteyam promises between mouthfuls of supple flesh “You’ll want for nothing. I’ll give you anything”
He’s humping down into you, unable to stop his hips from shifting. His cock seeking your warmth. You’re right there, he could just-
“Please” you shiver, like you know what he’s thinking. Like you can read his mind and all the dirty thoughts that cross it.
You can't take it. All of his hesitating.
You’d heard that the Omiticayans were more reserved, more traditional when it came to mating but he was going to drive you crazy.
You push on his chest. Gentle yet demanding.
He doesn't want to remove his mouth from your breasts but he allows it all the same. His lips swollen, a thin string of spit connecting him to your tender nipple as he stares at you with questioning eyes.
Neteyam lets you push him off of you before he goes down onto his back, the sand grating against his shoulder blades as he lays flat. You grin the entire time. Your eyes sparkling with excitement. With hunger.
You look as horny as he feels and it kills him.
Your fingers pluck at the at the delicate ties of your tweng, loosening it until it falls from your curvy hips.
“Y/N” he warns as you then reach for his own. Tugging at the leather straps of his loincloth. He raises his hips, helping you shimmy it down his long legs.
“You can't bond me” You whisper as you straddle his waist, your small hands using his broad chest for balance, palms on his pectorals “Not yet anyway”
“Mhmm” Neteyams murmurs as his eyes roll into the back of his head. You're hot and dripping wet, the center of your legs steaming as you rub it against his groin.
“That doesn't mean you cant touch me” you coo at the man under you as you slowly begin to undulate above him. Your hips circling as your head lowers to tongue at the underside of his jaw.
“Shit” He curses in English, gasping at the night sky as you drag damply across his lower stomach .
“Yes?” you question him as you reach for his hand, leading it exactly where you need him most.
“Yeah” Neteyam assures, fingertips dipping where you're skin is plush and dripping- right in between your spread thighs “Yeah, Yeah”
Your hand is still leading his, cupping him firmly against your pussy as he feels how much you need him. You hadn't been the only one dreaming of this. You had danced behind his eyelids for months. His brain had played tricks on him, desperately splicing together mismatched audio in an attempt to conjure up what you would sound like when he finally got to have you.
A shivery keen escapes you when he presses on your swollen bundle of nerves and nah. His imagination couldn't hold a candle to this.
It’s not just how you sound its how you look.
Sat on top of him, resting on your knees with your chest bare save for that brightly hued Lei. Your kiss bruised bottom lip is skewered between your sharp teeth as you worry it in keyed-up concentration. Blue eyes low, your long eyelashes almost fluttering against your cheeks as you stare down at him.
It’s how you smell.
Ripe and earth wet- his mouth floods as he inhales lungfuls of it, your juices are all over him. His waist, coating his hand . Everywhere but right on his tongue where he wants it the most.
Exploring you where you’re the most vulnerable is slippery, your pussy swollen as he traces along the folds. Your clit beats with your pulse under his touch, inflamed and you cry out.
“Awe, baby” he tuts. Your hips chase him in jagged little movements, unsure and needy and it’s enough to get him grinning. You’d been so sure of yourself when you’d pushed him down and climbed on top of him.
Yet here you are a whining mess of his thing in his lap.
There’s no room to tease, he wants to watch you come all over him. Everything still feels too over sensitive. Too new and easily breakable. You’d spent the last near week questioning his feelings.
Neteyam had his words. He could wax to you poetic until your ears bled,
But he had this too. He needed to make you feel a way that no one else could and as he sunk his long digit inside of you he realized that this was better then any conversation. This felt like the most natural way to express all of his emotions, you sucking him in knuckle deep felt so right.
Velvet soft and vice tight, he’s hard between his own legs from just the feel of you. Just knowing that this was his.
You, your heart. Your body. Your tiny little cunt.
Tiny but taking him so well, not just one finger. But two. Then three. Your body moves like the crashing waves behind you, intense and wild. Shoving down onto him so hard that his wrist starts to ache with the demanding press.
“More” you pant wetly into his neck “Faster. Net-please”
He figures out that faster means harder, and harder means he has you all but vibrating on top of him. Bouncing in time with every thrust of his digits. The arm that isn't preoccupied comes around you to hold you steady as he finger fucks you until you're a squealing mess.
This isn't the first time Neteyam has done this.
There’d been girls back home. One girl in particular that didn't take it too personally that he needed tension relief from the war raging around them and not the arranged soon to be wife that everyone had been trying to shove down his throat back them.
This isn't the first time he’s done this but it’s the first time he’s felt this.
He nuzzles your head out from its hiding place in his shoulder. He has to watch your face, needs to see the way he’s making you fall apart.
This is the first time he’s felt the all consuming pull to be with another person. He wants you like this always. So close to him that he could taste the perspiration from your panting breaths.
You tighten up in his arms, going rigid as your pleasure crests. Your pussy fluttering and mouth gaping. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You’re orgasm is ethereal, raw and fervid.
It’s a glance at Eywa. He sees the great mother on your face as you writhe atop of him.
It’s alot, he can tell. Fuck he can only imagine what you’re feeling if it had been this intense for him. Neteyam lets you hide again after a moment. Your hair covers your face as you shake and he thinks you might be crying, but he just brushes a hand down your damp back. Soothing you back down from the high.
The stars are brighter, even as the clouds gather in gluggy gray storm clusters. Everything seems a little bit more beautiful with his fingers still inside of you. It pains him to slide them out, missing the tight clutch of you once his wet fingers are exposed to the cool night air.
Tsaheylu, you’d begged him earlier. His kuru throbs and gooseflesh erupts all over his body just thinking about bonding with you. He wants it more than he’s ever wanted anything.
You nuzzle against him, nosing at his cheek. Your lips ghosting at the corner of his own.
“You okay?” you wonder. Your voice deep and husky. So sexy it makes his eyes close for a second.
“I should be asking you that”
“Mmm, no need to ask. I feel so so good” you assure him, starting to sit up a little “I um-I kind of got really into it. I’m sorry”
“Sorry?” Neteyam questions, keeping his grip on you as you start to squirm. Not in pleasure this time. But in shame, the embarrassed kind. Coming down from the pleasure haze, that anxious edge comes back. Unsure even as you’re on top of him. “Don’t say that. Why would you be sorry right now?”
You huff, nose scrunching. Ears flicking “I made a mess all over you”
It might not be very nice but he can't help but laugh at you. His pearly white canines on display as he hoots, the belly laughs jostling you from your perch.
“What!” you grumble, but smile all the same. “Stop”
“Hmm. I love messes like this. Feel free to make messes like this anytime” his fingers, still glistening come into view as he brings them to his mouth. Your eyes widen, glued to him. At the slight suction of his cheeks as he licks them in earnest “See. Easy clean up, you’ve got nothing to worry about, Pretty”
You taste as good as you smell. His tastebuds tingle as he swirls the new flavor around. Complex; a sweet musk that he wants to bathe in. He’s acutely aware of the way you watch him, your sweet cheeks burning at his lewdness.
When he frees his fingers with a pop, he gasps as your tongue surges in his mouth.
Tasting yourself on his spit.
Fuck.
He lets you kiss him breathless. Lets you run your sloppy kisses all over his face, down his chin. Across his neck. He arches into it all, gives you all the room you need. He’s well aware of what you’re doing. Working your strong scent into every inch of his bare skin.
Scent marking is a vital part of Na’vi courtship. Ancient, ritualistic and respected. Practiced by your ancestors before the first songs.
It’s makes something in him pur, knowing that you want him to smell like you.
“I think that's enough” He grins when your tongue dips into his navel “They can smell me, baby. You did a very thorough job”
The pout on your face is beyond cute as you sit up on your knees. The little ‘hmph’ sound so adorably out of place in the highly sexually charged situation “But I wanna smell like you too. How will anyone know I’m yours if they can’t smell it?”
Neteyam's nostrils flare. His ears swivel on his head and his tail gives a good lash at that. You want to be marked by him too. Are willing to parade his scent around all of those assholes in the clan that have been trying to win your affections, even when it was clear you were uninterested.
“Lay down” It’s an order, spoken softly but directly and you follow it at once. A giddy smile on your face as you lounge on the sand.
You are a vision.
Hair sprawling and messy behind your head. Your legs spread, back arched. Pretty nipples pebbled hard and on display. The only thing covering you is the floral necklace around your svelte throat.
It doesn't take him long at all. He strokes his striped cock firm and efficiently. Too many years of having to get himself off fast enough not to be caught has made his practiced movements almost perfect.
You’re looking at him like that again. Adoration clear as day on your face. Soft for him. You see him-
“Ol Ngati Kamiel” your voice is saccharin as you speak and he grunts violently as he comes.
Ropes of it land on your belly, across your exposed chest. It’s almost too much when you reach down swiping into the translucent, sticky, mess and start rubbing it into your smooth skin. He collapses shakily beside you, needing to collect himself for a minute before he helps your cause.
It’s the most intimate thing the two of you have done all night, laying together. Basking in the afterglow. Your scents mingle, dancing together in the evening breeze and Neteyam wants to imprint this memory somewhere deep.
The festivities are still raging- and you really do need to get back. It’s an important night. Your clan wants you there, the two of you need to make your rounds. Keep appearances. He won’t keep you from your duties, no matter how much he may want to.
After a quick dip in the ocean, removing the filth of love making but still wearing the strong scent of each other's pheromones, you begin to redress.
Neteyam watches. Highly distracted as you shimmy back into your tweng before looping your top around your shoulders. He works clumsily at the leather of his loincloth.
“Wait-”
The two of you are starting the trek back to the bonfire when he reaches out to halt you. His fingers play with wreath of lilies around your neck and his eyes bore into yours pleadingly.
The smile you give him is more radiant then the silvery moons that twinkle in the inky sky.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Even at the late hour the ceremonial bonfire still crackles with life. The festivities have ebbed into something slower, more intimate.
The adults of the clan are all that’s left, children long gone and tucked into their beds or dozing off against their parents' side.
Kiri sits on a carved log, in a circle of familiar faces.
Her mother and father had left not long ago. Tuk had been fighting slumber but succumbed after the Elders crooned a particularly slow song about the Sky and Sea’s forbidden love. Jake had hoisted the young girl up and bid everyone adieu, swaying on his feet as his wife hissed at him about how after all these years, he still couldn’t handle his liquor.
Now, Kiri listens to stories as she sips slowly on her cup of Kava. Enjoying the pleasant burn;
But not willing to end up like her dumb as rocks brother who is sprawled on the ground. Lo’ak is all but unconscious, every time he opens his eyes they are unfocused and hazy.
That’s what he gets for trying to out drink clan members twice his size. He’d been on the losing end of the drinking competition from the start- he was just too stubborn to see it.
Lo’ak is lucky Tsireya doesn’t care much for drinking, and is more than willing to tend to him. She keeps trying to force him to drink water and nibble on bits of food.
Ao’nung isn’t faring much better; he stares at the moon with a dopey smile as he sings, incredibly off tune, to the song that fills the air. A gaggle of girls surround him. Each hoping to catch his eye.
It’d been an all night thing, affections being thrown at him while he ignored it all too easily.
“My bed will be full this season, I’m not worried about a thing” he’d shrugged it off when asked about it.
Roxto’s boisterous laugh had dwindled down when Kiri shot him an extremely unamused glare.
She’s debating on leaving Lo’ak to sleep on the beach for the night when out of the shadows comes her eldest brother; who had been missing for most of the evening.
The hours had bled away and Kiri had tried not to worry too much about the confrontation that was going on just beyond the jovial bubble of the Metkayina celebrations. You had been distraught and Neteyam had never been good at voicing his own emotional needs-
Huh.
It looks like she had nothing to worry about.
The grin on Neteyam’s face is shit eating. It’s the smuggest she’s ever seen him. Even at his first Inknimaya, back with the Omiticaya, he hadn’t reacted like this. All head raised high and walking on a cloud.
You tug him along behind you, you guys’ fingers tightly intertwined. Your hips sway excitedly as you bounce along the sand. Kiri’s brother's chest is puffed out in obvious pride as he follows your footsteps.
Around his neck is Lei made up of vibrant pink flowers. It matches the one in your hair, that sits kind of lopsided now.
As the couple gets you closer, and Kiri catches a whiff of your approaching bodies, she wants to wretch. You’re drowning in each other's scents and it’s quite obvious what you had been up to all night.
“So gross” Kiri gags in accusation once you’re both in earshot.
You two owed her so big. She thinks naming one of your future children after her would suffice.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Okayyyyy. This was so fun to write and I already have Part Three brewing! TAGLIST IS CLOSED.
So like. Lots to address here. Tons to talk about. I’m gonna start the conversation but I hope you guys continue it in the comments.
1. The Motnaui is something I completely made up(…yes after watching Moana and taking inspiration for the name) lol it’s a ritualistic hunt that newly anointed hunters and warriors go on after their Metkayinan Iknimaya’s. I know all the different clans Iknimaya traditions would be different and I thought this would be cool.
2. I read a story in the Avatar fandom where the liquor they drank was called Kava and it just stuck in my brain. I know Kava is a drink in real life too, but for the sake of storytelling, please think about them as completely different things. The drink in this story is more of a wine/moonshine mixture deal. Would really fuck your ass upppp.
3. Fertility Season is obvs totes made up. Why is it rainy during it? Because I myself would want a week of non stop loving making with a nice little fire going, under lots of blankets with it chilly and rainy outside. And at the end of the day I’m writing for me lol
4. NETEYAM IS A SWEETHEART WHO STRUGGLES WITH HIS SELF WORTH JUST LIKE THE REST OF US. Please listen to the Artic Monkeys while you read this chapter(wanna be yours, do I wanna know, 505. THE LONGING)
5. Expect more POV’s to come! It will always be mostly rooted from Y/N’s point of view but I love touching base with all of the other characters. It’s so fun. I’m thinking a snippet of Neytiris in Part Three!
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radio-writes · 19 days
Note
Congrats on the 300 followers Vien! for the event:
"They were there, you weren't" + "What keeps you up at night?"
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Embracing Faded Pages of Tainted Saints
300 Followers Event
Warnings: Mentions of past physical injuries
Tags: Alastor x reader, gn reader, relationship can be read in any way
MDNI
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You stood awkwardly at the doorstep of the new hotel, unsure exactly of what to do next.
You knew there was a chance he'd be the one to open the door and greet you, but truth be told you were hoping otherwise. You thought you had worked through all your emotions about him years ago; but standing in front of him now, you realized that was far from the case.
You felt a surge of pressure almost squeezing at your heart, but you tried your best to ignore it as you offered Alastor a small smile.
"Hey, Al. Long time no see." You tried for casual, despite the way things ended the last time you were together.
"How are you—" Al finally spoke, his grin tight as his eyes narrowed at you.
A bright, bubbly woman shoved her way to the door, effectively cutting off whatever Alastor was going to say.
She grabbed you by your hands, and you did your best to shift your focus to her. You listened, responded, and tried very hard to ignore Alastor's burning gaze on you.
You were very swiftly taken into the hotel lobby, brushing right past the tall man. You were introduced to the staff and guests alike, and you painted your best smile as the blonde host swept you here and there. You merely tried to swallow past the lump at your throat as you greeted everyone.
You heard this place offered a chance at redemption, as well as some sort of protection from all the horrors Hell had to offer. You thought it was worth it, that the solace you could find in here would greatly outweigh having to be near Alastor again.
But his mere presence, just knowing that he was in the same room as you again, was already eating at you—suffocating you.
It was like you could feel the sharp stabbing pain across your gut again. The blood—the life—leaking out of you. The desperation crushing your heart. 
"I'll take it from here, Charlie, dear." You heard his voice before you felt a heavy hand at the small of your back. "This lovely demon seems to be a little bit overwhelmed. They can do with some rest, don't you think?"
The bright blonde agreed easily, allowing Alastor to quickly guide you along the halls of the hotel and away from all the excited chatter.
"You're alive." Alastor stated, his eyes set ahead of himself as he walked beside you. His hand had retracted from your body, now resting behind his back.
No thanks to you.
"Nope, still dead." You tried to joke, a soft, fleeting attempt at a laugh following it. But you stopped immediately when you realized that, despite his wide smile, Alastor didn't seem to be in the mood for jokes.
"You were bleeding heavily." He said instead.
You tried to keep your responses vague. "Yes, I...I remember."
You've thought about it many times over since your near-second-death experience. How Alastor had always been a dear friend of yours, through life on earth and Hell. How you both knew you were helpless at that time. How it was perfectly normal for him to choose to save himself instead.
You've forgiven him, at least that's what you told yourself. You still saw him as a friend, even after he abandoned you—and that's why you would never let him find out about your betrayal.
You could never hurt him like that.
You thought that this was all so crystal clear to you. That you've long healed this wound, but evidently that wasn't the case.
Just seeing him now. So well poised, so put together, cozying it up with the Princess of Hell. His smile was as you remembered it, and not a hair was misplaced on his head.
He had continued on like nothing happened, like he didn't once leave you to die.
And there was that awful, bitter, anger slowly filling your chest. That nauseating feeling of betrayal that twisted your gut. No matter how hard you tried to stick to reason, to remember all you've resolved in the past years, you just couldn't help but hate how he was able to move on so easily.
The rest of your time heading to your room was silent. Just a constant soft static noise following your steps. You spent that time fighting your base instincts to just jump him, throttle his neck, scream at him.
How could you? How could you just leave me to die like that?
Alastor finally halted by a door, his clawed hand turned the knob and ushered you in. 
You looked up at him, smiling once more as you tried to hold onto your more logical side. "I don't know how I feel about you having keys to my room." You try to joke again.
Oh did you miss the times when the two of you wasted hours in hysterics; just exchanging the dumbest jokes you could think of.
But that felt like almost two lifetimes ago.
"This is my room." Alastor clarified.
"Well that explains the swamp." You say bluntly. You walked slowly in, not exactly knowing what you were doing here now.
"I thought we could sit down for some coffee—" Alastor said, closing the door behind him. His hands reached for a coffee pot, but paused before he could reach the handle. "No no, this definitely calls for something much stronger."
He sat down on one of the seats by the fireplace, easily summoning two small glasses and a bottle of rye on the table. 
You watched him tentatively, heart tightening at the familiar sight.
There was once a time when nights like this was something you looked forward to—but it didn't seem that way anymore.
Your eyes couldn't help but narrow at how well off he looked. It's like nothing had changed for him at all.
You attempted to be civil, still, and made your way to sit across him. It's was stupid to hold a grudge against him for something like that. What he did made sense, and you shouldn't be mad about it.
Your eyes scanned the knickknacks scattered about his shelves and walls, eyes catching on a wide set of antlers mounted high above.
"That yours or a friend's?" You once again tried to lighten the mood. Whether it was for your sake or Alastor's, you weren't sure.
"We both know I've never been one for small talk, dear." Alastor said, pouring alcohol in your glass before his. He easily downs the drink he poured himself before filling it up again. "How are you alive?" His head tilted.
The moment the words left his mouth it felt like someone emptied a bucket of ice water over you.
The question simply came out of nowhere. Sure you had expected him to ask sooner rather than later, but to jump right to it?
Your half-assed smile dropped just a fraction of a bit.
Looking up at your old friend, the ever charming, ever present smile, you realized that perhaps you were being stupid—and not for the reason you originally thought.
You've been friends with this man since either of you could walk, friends through his stupid murder fixation, friends through his takeover of Hell.
But he left you for dead.
He finally found out that you survived and the first thing out of his mouth was an interrogation?
Where was your fucking apology?
So maybe, just maybe, you've been stupid this entire time. That you didn't need to be making excuses for him. That you didn't need to forgive him. That maybe your anger, your want to hurt him back, was more than valid.
You picked up your own glass and downed its contents in one go, relishing in the familiar bitter taste.
"There's no bed." You noted instead of answering your old friend, your grip was tight around the glass you held. "Where do you sleep?"
"I don't." Alastor answered simply. He moved only to fill up your glass again, but his eyes never strayed from you.
You weren't sure how much truth there was behind his words. Sinners still slept, and no matter how highly Alastor thought of himself, he still functioned the same way the rest of you do.
"What keeps you up at night, then?" You couldn't help but ask.
Perhaps it was an attempt to piss him off. Make small talk, delay from giving him answers.
But as much as you hated to admit it, it was likely because there was an answer you wanted to hear. One caused by that part of you that still hoped for your old friend to show you even just a hint of a conscience.
Perhaps if he gave you that, it would be enough for you to hold onto civility. It would be enough for your to at least honor what past friendship you had with him.
"Nothing in particular, really." Alastor glanced away from you, downing his drink once more.  "There's just no rest for the wicked, isn't that what they say?"
You followed his lead, throwing your head back and letting the alcohol burn its way down your throat.
It almost felt like old times when you'd compete with him in old dingy bars.
"Ah, I figured you wouldn't be hung up on it." You held your empty glass in your hands, a finger unconsciously caressing its cool surface.
"My bad, dear." Alastor gave you a faux look of guilt, but the mockery that dripped from his tone easily gave it away. "Did you want me to mourn you for a couple decades?"
You rolled your eyes. "Considering everything we've been through, I'd have expected at least a few years." 
You noticed Alastor fill his glass up again, he knocked it back just as quickly as the previous ones.
You both looked like you were drinking your problems away, but it seemed like this was more of a habit. One formed through a lifetime of repetitions.
"I can start now if you'd like." Alastor smiled at you.
Your brows raised. "I am very clearly not dead."
"You might be soon." The static in his voice was heavier, and for a split second you could have sworn his pupils changed to dials.
Your fingers stilled against the glass you held, feeling your skin prickle at the silence that followed.
The wood in the fireplace crackled, and the eerie light coming from the green flames added just a tinge more terror to your situation.
Or it would have if the only emotion you felt wasn't an all consuming rage.
The clear threat hung in the air for a second before Alastor spoke again. "So tell me," 
How long have you been alive?
Why didn't you tell me?
 "How are you alive?" He said.
You had no idea why on earth he was angry. What gave him the right?
"We both know the answer to that already, don't we?" Your own smile tightened, teeth clenched hard to keep yourself from growling at him.
You tried to stomp out your anger, but every time you tried to reason that he used to be a friend, you couldn't help but be brought back to that time.
Lying in a pool of warm blood—your own blood. Seeing the exorcists flying down to you, racing to see who could kill you first. Turning your head, using the very last of your strength to reach out to your friend. Watching him stand from your side and melting away into shadows without you.
"Well yes, a deal, of course. But with whom? Not many demons down in this festering tar pit have that much power. You were practically gone, dear."
Ah, so it was a pride thing, you thought. He was bothered that there was someone who could do what he couldn't. 
You couldn't hold back from scoffing. "And did that ever bother you? That I was practically gone?"
He paused. The sound of static grew messier for a few seconds before Alastor gave up on his glass entirely. He opted to just grab the bottle by its neck and drank from it.
"You seem like you were hoping it did." He teased as he set the bottle down back on the table. "Shouldn't a good friend be happy I wasn't suffering?"
Your heart clenched, eyes narrowed. The both of you have danced around it this entire time, but it just seemed like there was no longer any way to stop the words as they finally slipped from your mouth.
"Shouldn't a good friend try everything to save the other?"
The accusation, the betrayal, the bitterness, finally dripped like venom from your question.
A heavy tension covered both of you once more. The elephant in the room finally addressed properly, but it seemed neither of you knew what to do with it now.
A beat of silence.
"Then, it looks like we're both such terrible friends." Alastor said, as he sunk back into his chair. You hadn't noticed the tension in his body this entire time, you weren't sure if Alastor himself noticed it either.
But as he rested his head behind him, you noticed something you failed to before now.
He looked...exhausted. His smile was in place, his hair neat, his suit wrinkle free. He looked as perfect as ever; but he looked tired.
You were sure you didn't look any more chipper currently.
You tore your eyes away from the demon that sat across you. "It's been a long night."
"It's been twenty minutes." There was finally a hint of genuine amusement in his tone, but it felt strained.
Like it slipped before he could stop it, a habit formed through decades of banter.
"Twenty too many around you." You simply shut it down.
Still, not one apology. Did he even regret it?
You felt so confused, so conflicted, so angry, and you knew you just had to leave before you did something you would regret later on—whatever that may be.
He looked like he wanted to say something as you got up, but he chose to bring the bottle of alcohol to his lips instead.
It was only when your hand landed on the door handle did he speak. "I would do it again." 
It felt like a light went out inside you somewhere.
You didn't turn around.
"I would leave you to die—over and over." Alastor's floaty voice continued. "You were a good friend, but not great enough for me to risk my own skin."
You've known your friend to be quite the liar. He knew what to say and when to say it, and he lived to crawl under people's skin and piss them off.
But at that moment, you knew it was one of the rare few instances where Alastor was honest.
"It seemed like you wanted to know." His normally mocking voice seemed softer. Like it really was just a fact and nothing more.
"The V's were there when you weren't." You found yourself saying. You turned your head to the side just a tiny bit, but still didn't turn to look at him.
The lights flickered and your hand closed around the handle of the door.
"I made a deal with the V's. Everything about you and more, in exchange for my life." You continued, almost unable to stop the words from coming out, really.
"Your defeat seven years ago was my doing."
You really were terrible friends.
"It seemed like you wanted to know, old pal."
You left his room just as the lights fully went out.
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158 notes · View notes
stxrvel · 3 months
Text
i don't wanna live forever (1)
summary: reader couldn't stop having deaths in her life ever since the Supersoldier serum came into her life. no matter how hard she tried to stay sane, it seemed that life didn't want to give her a break. until, one afternoon, she learned that one of her old friends was alive… (you guys know im bad at summaries, but please give this one a chance)
pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader
words: +4.5k
warnings: angst, major character deaths, canon deaths¿?, bad words, english is not my first language! thoughts of revenge and death, this is like an introductory chapter, so the buckyxreader interaction is low, but it'll get better, i promise!
note: holy fuck guys. i just spent like five hours writing and editing this and i fucking love it. its been a while since ive been this proud of a work, im actually scare the emotion will disappear, but i really want to rejoice in this one. i wanted to write something a little different from my usuals, maybe a little common in the fanfiction world, but i started and i simply could not stop (or maybe just approach this bucky fic from another perspective). so this is the first part and i'll try with all my heart to keep this going because it was fucking insane, at least for me. i really hope you all like this as much as i do! feel free to leave any comment! thanks always for all the support!! see you next time <3
part 2 ; part 3 ; part 4
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When you went into the Supersoldier serum project with Steve, you thought you were going to change the world. Of course, at that time when technology was relatively new any invention felt like the beginning of a new era. That's how it was all sold to you and it was how you expected everything to turn out… Until you realized that it was all really a waste of effort and time.
They were just propaganda for war. Not to stop it, to promote it. To motivate it.
You tried, on several occasions, not to think too much about it. You tried to stay out of it as Steve sometimes asked you to, even though even he didn't want to, as Bucky asked you to when you lay on his shoulder to cry in the little time you had free between trips. It was a great burden of guilt and helplessness.
Until you and Steve, with the almost imposed help of Peggy and Howard, rescued Bucky from the evil hands of Johann Schmidt and his nefarious organization, HYDRA, that, unbeknownst to you, would haunt you for a long time to come. It was only after that, after spending several sleepless days on edge thinking about what might be happening to Bucky, that you and Steve were finally able to go out and contribute something. Destroy HYDRA and the Red Skull's plans.
Of course, you realized that not everything could go right when, the one mission you couldn't attend, Bucky didn't return. And then Steve didn't come back either.
“Do you think this will ever end?” you had asked Bucky the day before his last mission.
“Of course it will,” he had answered without hesitation, moonlight illuminating his clear eyes, squeezing your hand as if it was all he wanted to do for the rest of his life. “And after that we can begin to live as it should be.”
But there was no after that, because you never recovered from losing him. From losing them both.
“Are you okay?” Peggy approached, in the middle of the afternoon when the sun was streaming through the stained glass windows of the church, illuminating the spot where Steve's empty coffin had been, because they didn't even find his body. They didn't even think there was any of it left.
You barely moved your head to acknowledge her presence, moving the prayer slip they had recited throughout the mass between your hands. Your eyes were crystallized, in tears that no longer even made the effort to flow, because you had already spent too many days and nights crying. Peggy had been on the other side of the church, sitting next to Howard while the priest spoke, because you had refused to be near them in those moments. You didn't want to be near them.
“As well as one can be,” you slurred, finding that it had been a long time since you'd last used your voice for anything other than cursing and crying disconsolately.
The people had already left, probably an hour or more ago. The empty coffin had already been brought out, all the flower arrangements had been picked up, and the priest was preparing for the evening mass. You knew you had to leave, you knew Peggy and Howard were there waiting for you, but you felt stuck at that moment. You didn't want to leave, you didn't want to get ahead, you didn't want that life if it had to be this cruel.
You heard Peggy's sigh, before she took a seat next to you, a short distance away, averting her gaze to look at Christ on the cross.
You didn't know if you were selfish to be so closed off to your friends at this moments, because they must be grieving as much as you were, but you didn't know how to deal with the future possibilities. Bucky and Steve, great men and soldiers, one even with enhanced abilities, had not been able to make it through the punishment of war. What if Peggy and Howard were the same? What if they too had the cruel fate of dying at the hands of injustice? Could you deal with that? With everyone gone?
Maybe you could open up to them a little more because if not, who else? Turning away from them was not going to ensure their survival in this hate-filled society. Maybe you could protect them, like you couldn't protect Steve and Bucky. Maybe you could make a difference, because you had the chance to.
“You know,” Peggy spoke again, rearranging herself on the bench and crossing her legs, “Steve always knew this was how it would end.”
Her wistful, mournful, fragile voice sent a shiver through your body. Peggy didn't consider herself someone to show herself vulnerable in front of others no matter how close they were, even in those things that hurt her the most, in those things that affected her personally and made her eyes water instantly, she always tended to shut down. And at that moment you didn't dare interrupt her because you knew it would probably be the only time she would talk about Steve in a long time.
“Sometimes we'd talk, between tour trips, and he would tell me that wasn't what he wanted to do, even when he had to convince you otherwise,” her clasped hands would occasionally squeeze between words, blinking rapidly to fight back the tears. “He didn't know if he'd made the right decision.”
You could almost picture him, backstage at the foot of the stairs with that notebook he carried everywhere and wouldn't let go, Peggy at his side nostalgic, as helpless as the others. It reminded you of the times you'd had similar conversations with Bucky, desperate to find a purpose, a way through so much fog.
“The first time I saw him so sure of himself was when he asked us to help them look for Bucky,” she mumbled his name, as if trying not to scare you away by saying it too loudly. “Ever since then it seemed like he'd found that spark…”
“Until Bucky died,” you whispered, the words cutting through the cold and silence, Peggy shifting on the bench contritely.
“He lost something of himself from that day on, it wasn't hard to tell. The next time I heard him so sure after spending days lost, it was on that call from the plane.”
Peggy paused, raising her hand to cover her mouth as her voice faltered. You turned to look at her, wishing you could rip the pain from her soul and leave it in yours. She was trying to contain her emotions, breathing deeply, and in that moment you wondered what life might be like from now on, with the specter of grief following you around, waiting for the next time the dead knocked on your doors, unexpectedly, without allowing you to say goodbye.
“He had told me he wouldn't die in peace until he could get it all over with. And he took it all with him. And I hated him so much for it…” Peggy sobbed, her labored breathing standing out between words. She kept looking straight ahead at the stained glass windows, the expression on her face hard and scowling despite having tears rolling down her cheeks, as if she were trying to blame something for what had happened. Her reproachful eyes fixed on the Christ.
Her wails echoed through the walls of the church, the father on the dais sending them a look of sorrow. He had offered you water, thirty minutes after everyone at Steve's wake had left, when they kept walking, and you stood there.
Another empty casket.
“Ladies,” Howard's voice reached your ears amidst all the physical and emotional numbness. You could barely notice Peggy wiping under her eyes with the pocket square that was surely part of Howard's suit, as she took breaths to get up. “We should go now.”
You heard him walk, his slow, careful steps stopping just behind you. There, on his feet with his chest tight, he rested a hand on your shoulder and gave it a squeeze in support. He knew it was the most you would allow him at a time like this, deciding not to pass up the opportunity to let you know he was there. You sighed, feeling a heaviness take over your body as you stood up.
“Yeah, let's go.”
The next few months passed in a blur. Maybe too fast, maybe too slow, you weren't sure anymore.
Peggy continued to work at the Strategic Science Reserve for a couple of years, calling you from time to time to help her with some jobs. You kept a low profile, practically a fugitive from the state, while trying to live a halfway normal life in Europe. A lot of it thanks to Howard really.
Life had become a rather monotonous routine when you stopped getting so many calls from Peggy and Howard several years later. You knew they were fine, but not being able to return to the country filled you with anguish every day. And trying to lead a normal life became too complicated when you looked in the mirror and it seemed like not a single day had passed since you were in that capsule of Dr. Erskine's with Steve.
Until Peggy called one day asking you to come back. She told you that it was safe, that there would be no state officials waiting for you at the airport, but even if that had been the situation, you wouldn't have hesitated for a second to buy the first plane ticket and fly to see them again. To Howard and Peggy, to melt into an embrace, longing for the lost years.
You had thought that contributing to the fight in World War II had earned you a ticket to at least be recognized in the military, but all you gained was the government with their mad scientists looking for you to try to recreate the Supersoldier serum. Peggy didn't want to risk you and Howard gave you no choice by giving you a plane ticket to Finland with your bags packed.
You wasted many years not being by their side, unable to keep the promise you had made them in your head to be close by to protect them, to watch over their safety.
But when you left the airport there was only Peggy, and maybe that should've told you everything.
Her hair already looked gray, the effects of gravity and time present on her face. You hated to think that you shouldn't have looked any different from the way she saw you last time when she waved you off at that same airport. Her warm gaze was the same, raising her arms with held back tears to encircle you in a big hug. She tried hard not to sob against your shoulder, you felt the choppy movement of her breath against your chest.
She looked so different and the same at the same time.
You walked to her car a moment later, her trying to carry your suitcase and you telling her you were perfectly fine carrying it on your own. Amidst a smile, she walked into the driver's door and you frowned as you saw the empty passenger seat.
“Where's Howard?” you spoke as you sat down, after stowing the huge suitcase in the trunk of the car. The way you moved to buckle up, you didn't notice the way Peggy froze in place, her hands clenching the steering wheel so tightly that her breath hitched from the effort.
“We're going to see him,” was all she said, but she was very good at hiding that something was wrong. Only for a little while.
During the trip, even though you tried to ask things about them, about what they had been doing during this time, you didn't miss the way her shoulders were tense or her eyes very alert. Something bad had happened and Peggy was trying to hide it from you.
When she pulled up in front of a church, you already knew what had happened without her answering a single one of your questions.
Howard had died.
You two had sat next to Howard's son Tony, his spitting image, in complete silence as the prayers went on. At that moment you didn't know what had happened, hoping it had been a quiet and peaceful death, because you didn't know if you would be able to endure another violent death.
Peggy gave you all the details when the mass was over, after the coffin was taken away, and you hadn't felt such fury in so many years. Not since the deaths of Bucky and Steve had that adrenaline rush of anger returned to run through your body as violently as it did at that moment, when Peggy told you that he had been murdered along with his wife. All to steal some prototypes of Dr. Erskine's serum. The damned serums with which everything had started.
This time there was a body in the coffin, but there was also a culprit. Someone to point the finger at and take it out on for years of anguish and pain.
You were at Peggy's house, staying for a few days, when she told you that wasn't all.
Peggy had a suspicion that HYDRA hadn't disappeared when Steve crashed that plane into the ice. Her suspicions generated panic in you, because Bucky and Steve had died for that, now apparently Howard, only for it all to have been for nothing. The feeling of carnage that ran through your whole head made you nauseous, years of helplessness and pain pent up in such a small body had to find its way out somehow.
“It was a man, according to the information I've been able to gather,” Peggy spoke, taking a seat across from you in the dining room of her living room, after pouring you a glass of lemonade. “He didn't die from the crash. He had a concussion. He was hit in the head. His wife died from asphyxiation.”
“Does Tony know?”
“No,” Peggy shook her head quickly, one hand over her heart as if the mere thought caused her physical pain. “It didn't even occur to me to tell him something like that.”
“And he was looking for the serum,” you recalled, a bitter feeling planted in the back of your throat, the memories of the disastrous times during the war coming back into your head like a blinding flash.
“He took them. We don't know who he is or who he works for, but whoever they are, they must have been following us for a long time to know about them.”
“You mean years,” you arched an eyebrow, your fingers touching the cool exterior of the glass seeking some reassurance.
“Possibly. That project isn't recent,” Peggy nodded, drinking her lemonade with a grimace. You stared at the liquid almost finished from her glass, a wrinkle forming between your brows with each passing second and you kept wondering why.
“But what the fuck was going through that asshole's head?” you spat angrily. Rage at already the amount of lives that serum had taken with it and at Howard's recklessness. Rage at the reaper who seemed to be following in their footsteps for some reason, rage at that damn man and whoever his damn boss was.
“It was the only option, Y/N,” Peggy turned her gaze, meeting your eyes with a strange glint.
“What do you mean?” you were almost afraid to ask, your friend's gaze suddenly turning evasive. You watched her run her fingernails over the glass of the tumbler, lost for a moment in thought. The way her shoulders slumped forward in defeat caused a pressure in your chest that made it hard to breathe. Peggy shouldn't be going through these things at this point in life.
“Howard was working with the Pentagon, as a contractor or something. They had found you. Howard felt cornered and they made him sign an agreement.”
With your incredulous look on her face, Peggy didn't dare look back at you for a few seconds. So much had happened since you had left and it seemed that you had only been told about the things you weren't going to care about so much. But if you had known that you wouldn't have cared much about giving some of the state officials their comeuppance. You would've liked Howard to trust you enough to tell you, not live in as much fear behind his back as the last few years must've been. You didn't like the way Peggy's lips curved downward, as if she, too, would've preferred to make another decision had she known this was how it was going to end.
“Howard assured them that he could recreate the serum, and told them he would as long as they left you alone.”
“Fucking asshole…” you closed your eyes, scrubbing your face with your hands. The rough skin of your hands rubbed against the delicate skin of your face, years of combat and mistreatment foreseeing a harshness that reminded you every day of what you'd had to go through to get to that moment.
“I only found out about it after it happened. I didn't see it for like a whole week,” Peggy shook her head slightly, her eyes glistening in the pain of the memories. You shook your head hard, a more violent reaction than you could have anticipated.
“That stupid… stupid asshole! What the fuck made him think I couldn't defend myself?”
“He was trying to do the right thing,” Peggy finally searched your eyes, meeting the red rims that told her you were holding back too hard breaking in front of her, only using that pain mixed with rage to keep you sane.
“And look how that turned out!”
Peggy stretched her hand across the table, with a pleading look asking you to lower your voice, averting her gaze to the hallway. You followed her gaze, for a second forgetting where you were, forgetting that her family was with you behind the doors where you were plunged into darkness. It was past midnight.
You took a second to calm yourself, trying to drown out the uncontrolled emotions and taking deep breaths to calm your fluttering heart.
“And if what you theorize is true…” you regretted the moment those words left your mouth; you didn't even want to finish the sentence.
“Do you think it is?”
“I don't want to,” you shook your head instantly, closing your eyes, the thought sounding illogical inside your head. Your hands on your chest trying to contain the storm of feelings that was making chaos inside your head. “That would mean that everything we did, everything Bucky, Steve and Howard did and sacrificed, was in vain. It will all have been in vain.”
You spent several weeks with that thought in your head, working hand in hand with Peggy, and the organization you barely knew as SHIELD, to track down the whereabouts of the killer of Tony's parents and the one responsible because the Supersoldier's serums were, surely, in the wrong hands.
And yes, it was many years of fruitless missions and dead ends, with you running every field mission and Peggy calling the shots from the New York facility. Every time you felt close to discovering something, it seemed that the enemy rejoiced in your failures and still couldn't understand how they were always three steps ahead.
However, you had to leave the missions when Peggy became ill.
The silent, lethal Alzheimer's.
During the first months in the hospital, she still recognized you. She also recognized her husband and children. But after the first year, she frowned every time her children walked through the door. After a year and a half, her husband had to remind her that they had been married for about forty years.
After two years, she was still only remembering you, Howard, Steve and Bucky. Her whole life during her time in the army was all you talked about, sometimes you would tell her how much more time had passed than she remembered and always, without fail, she would ask you how much you had done in Europe for so long by yourself.
She cried every time she remembered Howard's death. She cried every time she remembered her children. Out of her mouth came a thousand apologies that no one would accept, because there was nothing anyone could do to prevent what had to happen. You wished she had been a serum test subject instead of you.
For several years, missions to find Tony's parents killer were sporadic because you spent more time around Peggy than at the SHIELD facility. She was the only thing you had left of everything you'd ever had, of when you held the world in your hands. She was the last thing keeping you tethered to that reality, keeping madness from flooding your reason. How could you have so many years ahead of you when that was all you had to live for? A life full of the dead, full of pain and suffering. What kind of karma were you paying for?
You were leaving the SHIELD facility, after another failed mission, when Nick Fury stopped you in front of the exit. You almost rolled your eyes right under his watchful gaze, tired of having to meet him anywhere, and exhausted from his comments about this vengeance project or whatever he wanted you to be a part of.
You still didn't know how, being such an exemplary agent, Coulson had fallen into his nets.
“Miss L/N,” the man stopped you with his words, his hands behind his back and a tense stance that caught your attention.
“Fury,” you nodded in his direction, hoping he'd be quick because you were running late for your weekly visit with Peggy. “Do you need anything?”
“I'd like you to come with me somewhere,” Fury approached tentatively, his one eye fixed on your wary expression, which shifted to boredom the moment you thought you knew what he wanted.
“If this is about that project, I've told you a thousand times-”
“No,” he interrupted you, moving forward and removing his hands from behind his back. “It's not related to that. I really want you to come with me.”
“You look agitated, but I need-”
“I'll take you to see Peggy myself after this.”
You didn't like that he knew your routine, even though you weren't doing enough to hide it from the other agents. But Fury looked nervous, even though he was hiding it very well, trying to keep his cool as he looked for ways to convince you.
You figured it wouldn't be a big deal for you to go off the deep end for once. After all, Peggy never remembered you were going to see her.
You set off in Fury's armored vans, not quite sure where you were going, but sure that it was urgent, because he had taken it upon himself to let his driver know that you had to get there as soon as possible.
You took that time on the trip to come up with a new strategy for the next mission because what you were doing up to that point wasn't working and you felt too close to throwing in the towel, figuratively speaking. You could spend years following a ghost, but you wouldn't give up on finding Howard and Maria's killer.
Before the car pulled up to one of SHIELD's secret sections, they passed the giant, imposing Stark Tower. You never saw Tony again after that time at his parents' funeral, not even during his visits to Peggy because you always made it a point not to cross him. You didn't think you'd be able to look him in the eye while you knew his parents had been killed without being able to tell him. You had promised Peggy in her lucid moments that you wouldn't tell him anything until you could find the culprit. You didn't want to initiate that pain if it had to be kept repressed, as yours once was, and probably still is. You had learned, some time after the funeral, that he was living with Edwin Jarvis, and you were glad to know that he would have good companionship to keep him company in such hard times.
Fury, a handful of agents and you entered the vans through the entrance to what appeared to be the parking lot of an old warehouse. Upon entering, the first thing you noticed was the number of armed agents that seemed to be guarding the place, not at all discreet to how SHIELD used to do things. You weren't sure if Peggy would authorize something like that, but you couldn't question the Director's decisions. It wasn't your place.
“What's going on here?” you frowned, watching as every meter there was another agent and another agent. You got out of the car without waiting for an answer from Fury, moving directly toward the entrance where most of the agents were concentrated. You barely noticed their looks in contradiction, running their eyes over you and then over the man trying to catch up to you, dubious as to whether or not they should move. “Move.”
“Wait,” Fury's voice stopped the command in the agents, who turned back to look at you as you sent Fury a confused look.
“What's all this mystery, Nicholas?” the man startled almost discreetly at your tone of voice, the agents stirring uncomfortably, but kept the serene expression that was getting on your nerves. “What the fuck did you do?”
“We got a call from the Arctic.”
“From the Arctic?”
You tried to ignore the way the hairs on your neck instantly stood up, your body alerting you to something your mind still couldn't comprehend. You felt like a deer face to face with a predator, expecting the worst.
“The Colonel informed us of something that might interest us,” Fury's cryptic voice echoed in your ears, drowning out the flicker of uncertainty vibrating from your head to your toes. “They found a plane.”
You didn't even answer him. Your heart began to pound wildly, cornered, ready to have your head bitten off. The tension in your shoulders intensified, with the involuntary movement of your hands as you broke into a cold sweat. The mere implication of his words caused an emptiness in your stomach, a sense of longing and fear you hadn't felt before.
You looked at Fury, trying to find in his gaze the gleam of a lie, but there was nothing there but assurance. There was nothing but recognition and understanding in his gaze, but that didn't make the emptiness in your stomach and the tight chest go away. It didn't make the feeling of being outside your body go away.
You barely remembered to move in the direction of the door, the agents instantly moving out of your way, pushing it so hard that one of them flew out. You moved your eyes around every corner of the room, the cream-colored walls generating a great repulsion in you. And there, in the midst of all the confusion and the storm, a confused and disgruntled face looked back at you. A face you never thought you would see again.
Steve Rogers was standing a few feet away from you, barely comprehending what was happening around him and instantly recognizing you. Your chest compressed once again, the tears you held back for so many years even in your loneliness making their own way into your eyes, endangering to end that mask you wore everywhere you went.
Steve was actually there, looking back at you with his eyes shining in recognition. You didn't know if he was as surprised as you were to react or you looked so bad that he didn't know if he should approach you or not. You just knew it was him, it really was him right there in front of you. He wasn't dead. Steve wasn't dead. He was alive. Ah, he was so alive.
The broken sob that suddenly left you was loud enough to make your friend shed his stupefaction and stride over to where you were. You barely managed to cover your face, between sobs, wails and disbelief, feeling your knees give out, surrendering to the weight of the pain, when his strong arms grabbed your shoulders before you hit the floor. Preventing your fall, as you had wished so many times before.
You cried against his shoulder, when feeling him against your body you knew there was no doubt it was true. You moved your hands away from your face, wrapping them around his waist as tightly and lovingly as you hadn't hugged anyone in so long. Surely the last time you hugged someone like that was when you saw Peggy on your way back from Europe.
Steve wasn't far behind, his arms around your shoulders just as tightly, his chin against the crown of your head, moving from side to side trying to hold back the loud sobs that shook your body.
You couldn't believe it, but it was true, he was right in front of you.
Steve was alive. He had come back to your side. You didn't even want to ask why.
And there was nothing else you could think about for the rest of your life.
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itsharleystuff · 7 months
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⸻ 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘰
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‘ necio porque no eres mía, mi fruta prohibida ‘
— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Javier Peña x afab!fem reader (implied hispanic/latina)
— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.1k
— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Javier can’t stay away from you, even if that means being your sneaky link.
— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), sex, p in v sex, porn with barely any plot, unrealistic car sex, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of cheating, feelings (left unsaid), fingering, hair pulling, praising, lots of kissing, pet names (cariño, sweetheart, hermosa), phrases in Spanish (no translations, sorry), mentions of reader wearing a cross necklace (not a rosary or any religious reference, but adding it here in case anyone might be bothered by it), no use of y/n. I think that’s all.
a/n: been listening to lots of romeo santos lately and now we have bad bunny’s new album so expect some nasty works from me (as soon as I get a break from uni cause damn). This os is a bit rushed due to my lack of time, but I really wanted to post something, please excuse my mistakes<3
‘ Is it better to feel everything with great depth in comparison to feeling nothing at all? ’
Occasionally, you think it’ll be easier if you could simply turn your emotions off and walk away. But no matter how many times you tell yourself that you won't go back to him, somehow —every so often in the weirdest ways— he always ends up between your legs. On and off, like one torturous, yet perfect loop that keeps bringing you back together.
Although, you were never actually together.
Technicalities, right?
Things were said and done once you started frequenting each other's beds. Above all else, Javier had clearly specified that he didn't want any feelings involved in the matter (primarily due to his job, plus the dangers that came with it) and you had stupidly agreed to that condition. Because honestly, the main reason why you got involved with him in the first place was the way he made your heart flutter, how he could make your skin tingle just with a simple touch and get your knees weak solely by surrounding your personal space.
It was all in vain, nonetheless. He had it for you, too. Badly. Though his realization came hard and late. You stormed into his life and swiped away any thoughts of having an emotionless relationship; your innocent curiosity, the softness of your touch and the brightness in your eyes whenever you'd stare into his soul while being tangled with him all night, all of it somehow carved your way into his heart.
Even if you were already seeing someone else, trying to move on, he'd still be all over you; chasing after you as if having all your attention was some sort of personal whim of his. The worst part? You'd give in every single time, surrendering yourself to him after putting up little to none resistance.
"Javier, this needs to stop..." were your words actually meaningful if you uttered them between kisses?
His hands coast up your thighs, delicately rubbing the flesh as his lips roamed along your jawline. "Why?" he sighed, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your neck.
"Why?" you mimic him, propping your weight up with both palms to his chest, slightly pushing him back. "You fucking know why."
The agent straightens his posture on the backseat of his jeep, forcing you to readjust your position on top of him. He takes a deep gulp of air whilst staring up at you with low, darkened eyes.
One thing was crystal clear: he had you right where he wanted you. His aviator sunglasses rested on top of his head, crowning his messy hair; the black shirt was ruffled from you tugging at it, a couple of buttons loose. His unsteady breathing and plump lips almost made him appear needy, if it weren't for the firm grip he had on your upper legs and the wide hunger his gaze reflected. Your yellow sundress had ranked up your thighs and the denim material of his jeans felt a tad uncomfortable beneath you. All that could be heard inside the car –parked somewhere next to an incautious road– was the storm happening outside and a song they were playing on the radio.
"Oh, yeah..." he chuckled sardonically. "I forgot I'm now your boy toy."
There was a bittersweet note on his voice despite the joking tone. "Shut up, asshole. It's not like I was ever anything different to you."
He muffled a laugh, his fingertips lingering on your feverish skin. The air inside the car was cold, contrasting with the warm heat of your bodies. Javier couldn't help but think about the irony of the situation; about how you couldn't believe that you meant anything more than a sweet time to him, when in reality, the few moments you spent together were the only ones where he could feel genuine joy. His hand comes up to cup your face, gently stroking your cheekbone with his thumb.
"You think very low of me, preciosa." Oh, if only he knew.
"I wish I did. That would surely make things easier." He shakes his head, holding back laughter.
"Does he know?" your brows knit together in confusion, shocked by the sudden question and the mention of the other guy.
"Know what?" you asked with a quizzical expression.
His big palm lowers to your neck, the other one sneaking under the hem of your dress, all the way up to your hip and setting on your lower back. "About me."
You tsked, rearranging the collar of his shirt, "I'm not sure there's anything he needs to know about you, Peña."
He smirks, charming as ever. "How about the reason why you keep coming back to me?" The pads of his fingers rub soothing circles along your spine, all the while his eyes swallow you whole. "I don't mind being second in line as long as your frontman knows how to treat you properly."
"You're talking nonsense," you run your hands through his locks, brushing the hair out of his face. "You think you're any better?"
"Oh, cariño. I know I am." If it weren't for the confidence in his voice –as if he spoke freely and unquestionably–, you'd probably be laughing. "I'm sure everyone knows." His index and middle fingers trace your collarbones in light, feathery touches and slowly slide down your chest, avoiding the chain around your throat. "And if he doesn't, be sure to tell him."
A shiver runs throughout your body when his thumb sweeps across your sensitive nipple over the flimsy fabric of your dress. The hand on your lower back moves to press you firmly against him, grinding your lower body on top of his and pulling a surprised gasp from your parted lips.
"Javi..." you can't muster up the words nor the courage to push him away before he's kissing all over your neck and shoulders. "God, you're insufferable."
He chuckles, and the sound is not only attractive but contagious, plastering a smile on your face. The thin straps of your dress slide down your arms, making your boobs nearly spill out the front, though neither of you actually care. Both his hands squeeze your ass as he buries his face between your breasts, sucking a mark on the sensitive skin. That, he thought, was something you probably wouldn't want the other guy to see.
You unconsciously started searching for friction, moving your hips in tandem to relieve some of the increasing ache that settled between your thighs. You sighed when his mouth started peppering kisses all over your exposed tits, giving special attention to your hardened nipples. He knew exactly what you liked and how you liked it, your favorite spots and positions; all he needed to do to have you trembling, screaming and begging for more... He knew everything and he boasted on it.
"Oh, you really love me," he mumbles, voice strained with lust as you keep rubbing yourself against him, using him just like he enjoyed best. "Don't you, corazón?"
You pull his hair harshly, forcing him to look at you in the eye, the chain of your necklace colliding against his chin. The gruffly groan that leaves his lips goes straight to your core. Javier loved it when you were a little mean and bossy; it amused him.
"I like you better when you're quiet," you hiss, kissing all over his jaw and licking a long stripe along his throat, taking your time on his Addams' apple and the spot between his neck and shoulder. That, added to the constant, leisured movement of your body against his crotch, had him panting and grunting in seconds.
The sight of pleasure contorting his features as he completely loses himself and starts bucking his hips upwards has you dripping and clenching around nothing. "Fucking lier," he spits out, "you love it when I'm noisy."
He was right, as per usual. But you decided to ignore it. "I'd like you more if you weren't such a cocky bastard. Tal vez así no tendría que buscarme a otro."
A wolfish grin purses his lips and his eyes gleam smugly, "Necia y mentirosa. You're every man's dream."
You lean forward to kiss the crook of his nose, feeling his strong arms enveloping you, guiding your movements just as you both liked best. Your lungs fill with air and you grasp the back of the seat, feeling a certain tension building in the pit of your stomach each time the right amount of pressure was applied to your clit. Javier relished on the way he could make a complete mess of you without even having you naked, his cock twitching in his pants with the mewls that left you; having you all hot and bothered prompted his own excitement.
"Everyone's..." your breath fanned across his cheek as you ducked down towards him, lips so close to each other’s that he could already feel the ghost of their touch on his mouth. "But yours."
If you really believed that, then you were ragingly clueless, for he knew deep down that he'd go to wit's end and back just for you to be happy.
"Especially mine, sweetheart." He doesn't let you reply, swiftly catching your lips in a deep, passionate kiss.
It ignited something within you that could only grow bigger and stronger, like a forest fire. An intense feeling that settled in your loins and expanded throughout your body with every touch and every single kiss. It was melting your bones and fogging your brain deliciously. His hand rested on the nape of your neck to hold you close as his mouth explored yours in depth, meanwhile the other slid between your bodies to palm your clothed sex, wet with your arousal.
"Fuck..." he gasps amidst, gliding his index and middle fingers across the soaked fabric, spurring you on.
Despite the fact that he'd done this a dozen times before, the way you'd easily give in to him would always do it for Javier. Your sweet whimpers and ragged breaths were his own sort of addiction, the moans that escaped your lips when moving your panties aside made all his blood rush towards his lower body.
His fingers gather the slick around your entrance and then brings them back to your clit, teasing it with slow, circular motions. He takes his time to play with you, refusing to thrust his fingers in your core and only managing to get you wetter and more desperate by the second, toying with your patience. The moment you try to wriggle, his grip becomes stronger to keep you still, digging his fingertips so strongly that it'll definitely bruise afterwards. At this point you can feel your own arousal smearing on your inner thighs and dripping down his jeans.
"Don't be mean, Peña..." you mumble in complain, your hands wandering over his chest, struggling to keep your mind on track.
"Beg for it," he whispers in your ear. "Be nice and I'll do as you say."
You bite your lower lip to hold back your noises while his fingers drift across your slit. "Please..." you kiss the soft spot behind his ear, raising goosebumps on his skin. "Javi, por favor..."
He hums lowly, pressing his middle and index fingers to your entrance at the same time as he shushes your moans with a kiss. His mouth is all over yours, his tongue running along your lower lip before going past your teeth. You can barely breathe, the feeling of his digits inside you and the sloppy kiss had your head spinning. You're certain that if it wasn't for the rain or the music in the radio you'd definitely be able to hear the sopping sounds of him working on your pussy. Javier curses when your head draws back, not wanting to part from you, the sweet aftertaste of the kiss still lingering on his tongue.
The leather material of the seats cracked each time you moved, and the crystals were starting to mist up from the shock of temperatures. Despite the windows being polarized, the blue, kind of grayish light of today's twilight shone beautifully on your glowing skin, leaving him absolutely mesmerized.
"Do you ever show him this side of you?" he mutters hoarsely, watching you from below as you shut your eyes and claw at his shirt, feeling his thick fingers curling inside, stretching you open. "Does he touch you like I do?" He's quick to find your weak spot and hit it repeatedly, slow and steady at first, bringing back his wet digits to your swollen bud. "Can he fuck you like I do? Please you like I do?"
You shake your head in denial, panting and unable to form any coherent sentences. The warmth between your legs started spreading throughout your belly, thighs quivering and waves of pleasure washing over you.
"Use your words," he coaxes, burying his face on your neck to inhale your perfume, the one that's all over him, his clothes and sheets; like you were marking him as yours. The familiar tickle of his mustache on your sensitive skin, added to the heat and the well-known thickness of his dick underneath you doesn't fail to make your body waver.
"N-no..." you stumble upon your words, "he can't. No one else can... Sólo tú."
"Mhm," Javier kisses your jaw lovingly, the feeling of his chest flushed to yours pushing you over the edge. In that moment, he just knows you're close by the way your cheeks heat up and your brows furrow, as well as how you start squeezing his fingers. "You can come now."
And he didn't need to tell you twice, for you were already falling apart, tugging at his hair and struggling to catch your breath. His hand leaves the apex of your thighs and starts caressing the smooth skin of your back, giving you chills from the dampness of his fingertips. You lay your forehead against his, and with your eyelids hanging low you press a soft kiss to his temple. For a while, you just stay like that in silence, feeling his strong arms wrapped around your waist and listening to a bolero song playing through the car speakers.
Javier's heart thumps against his ribs whilst the beat reverberates through you in a constant tempo. His natural musk dazes your mind; a mix of cigarettes, fresh soap and manly cologne. The intimacy of everything suddenly sinks in and your lungs swell with all the contained love you had for him, crushing you under its weight. You can't let it crawl back to you, knowing you have to keep it well buried within your bones. 
"Javi..." you purr, lips grazing his ear. "I need you."
"Yeah?" his coarse voice makes you shudder. "I'll take care of you, cariño."
You reluctantly break apart form his embrace and, with a playful smile, you decide to take his sunglasses off, carefully tossing them to the passenger's seat. He appeared invested in your game, his prying eyes following your every move. Then, you suddenly grabbed the hem of your sundress with both hands and took it off in a quick move, discarding it somewhere on the floor and leaving you solely in your tiny, ruined underwear and golden necklace. The man in front of you couldn't be any more swoon over your naked body, his brown eyes now blackened with desire.
"Mi niña hermosa," he coed.
Your smile widened as his palm covered the curve of your waist. It's almost as if he's never seen you like this; though the image of your bare skin is something he could never tire of, your beauty being something he'd describe as ethereal, if he were the artistic or poetic type— which he wasn't.
"You're staring," you say, feeling his free hand coming to grope your breast.
"I'm admiring," Javier replies with a grin, thumb brushing over your peaked nipple. "You're a menace, d'you know that? This body and that face of yours... Engañarían a cualquiera." The cool metal of his watch gave you chills when you grabbed his wrist, guiding his hand to your lips. "No one would believe that you let me fuck you senseless in the back of my car."
You giggle at his words, starting to spread kisses on his knuckles, "People would think you've corrupted me."
The pads of his fingers gently pull your lower lip, the same two digits that were previously inside you. He doesn't need to vocalize what he wants you to do, since you immediately pick up on it. Your mouth opens up steadily, allowing him to press both fingers to your tongue. With no hesitation, you eagerly begin to suck and lick at them without breaking eye contact, his heavy gaze looking at you fixedly.
"Perhaps I have," he murmurs rasps out, brushing the hair away from your face with an uncharacteristic delicate demeanor.
Frankly, you are incapable of conceiving how can he have so much power over you, your actions and thoughts. The way he peers at you with close scrutiny and sincere devotion makes you feel like a woman, in all sense of the word. He's aware of it and is not afraid to demonstrate it, to be at your mercy. And it only made you want him more.
You desperately tug at his belt while he drags his fingers from your lips to your chin and neck, letting you do all the hard work. There's an arrogant attitude to him as he merely 'admires' but doesn't go anywhere near as to putting any effort into it; he wants you to work for it, have your fun with him as you please and then let him show you why no other man can reach his level. He’s very aware of the fact that he's the only man whose dick you'd beg to have inside and he wallows in that knowledge, like a bragging child.
"Shit, Javier..." you fumble with his fly, silently pleading for his help while he absentmindedly kneads at your flesh, enjoying the show you're putting on for him. "Work with me, please."
"Anxious, aren't we?" he scoffs, taking your wrist to place your hand on his crotch. "What do you want, cariño?"
"A ti, Javi," the feeling of his cock throbbing at your confirmation only reaffirms how much he loves it when you verbally express your desires. "I want you."
Both his palms rest on your shoulder blades and his face gets closer to yours before talks again, "Then fucking take me."
His voice gave you butterflies and the way he spoke went straight to your core. A muffled moan vibrates in your chest when you reach for the base of his neck and pull him in for an aggressive, frenetic kiss. It's a blur of actions, a clash of tongues and teeth that happens at the same time as your hand sinks to his lower abdomen, swaying over the trail of hair that runs down his mound, with a touch so light that it makes his knees feel like jelly. The warmth and softness of your palm against his length pulls a groan deep from his throat, finally getting to release some of his pent-up tension and get the attention he's been craving from you.
You swipe your thumb across his swollen tip, surprised by the amount of precome that is dribbling and how easy it becomes to stroke him. Javier gasps at the contact, shutting his eyes and allowing himself to breathe. Just like him, you know exactly what he finds most pleasurable. You know his body as well as you know his mind; his pet-peeves and favorites. So freaking close, and yet— so, so incredibly far from his grasp.
"Cariño," he calls out your name in a languid drawl, clutching to your waist, "don't tease."
"Mhm," you're accustomed to the thickness of him, how heavy and long he is. However, it's always nice to feel how easily riled up he gets because you. "Not so fun when it's done to you, is it?" you purposely trace the vein on the underside of his dick and he snarls through gritted teeth, an unrestrained sound that makes you throb.
"Fucking hell-" the chocolate brown in his eyes is entirely consumed by the pitch black of his dilated pupils.
You drag your index along his jawline, slightly lifting his chin to square his gaze with yours. "Come on, big boy. Lift your hips so I can do this properly."
He can't help but laugh. "What now?" he snarks, doing as you say, nonetheless. "You're gonna talk me trough it?"
The man pulls his pants down just enough to give him the sufficient mobility. You don't have the patience to reply to his mockery, though you're sure he'd love it if you did so. Instead, he pushes your panties aside as much as the fabric permits and you glide the head of his cock between your folds, coating it with your arousal and the remains of your previous orgasm. His hands are still on your hips but they're simply resting there, giving you the freedom to do as you want.
With a firm grip, you carefully guide him to your entrance and sink down his length, drawing a sharp whine from your lips and a low, depraved moan from him. The stretch he provides always manages to send your mind into oblivion, filling you up so good, to the extent that makes you believe no one ese could fit your body so perfectly. Your mouth falls agape and you clasp his shoulders in order to keep yourself grounded; beads of sweat started rolling down your neck and his temples when you rested your forehead against Javier's, eyes kept firmly shut.
"You okay, sweetheart?" he asks once you'd manage to sit every last inch of him deep inside you. "Want me to move?"
You shake your head 'no', gazing back at him to meet his preoccupied expression. "I'll do it," you stammer through the haze of rapture. "There's something I want to try."
His brows furrow in genuine confusion and a tad of concentration, but nods either way. Both his palms lay flat on your ass cheeks as you throw your head back and start moving at a leisured pace, biting your bottom lip and tangling your fingers in between his damp curls. You ride him like it's your first time doing so; grinding slowly and calculatedly, barely bouncing and more like swaying your hips rhythmically, feeling his cock nudge that particular spot that has your thighs trembling.
"Fuck-" Javier inhales heavily, using his strong hands to guide your movements without a change of cadence. "Look at you, sweetheart," he coos, his thumb grazing your clit in a very delicate manner that makes you yelp softly, "you look so pretty when you take it."
A wave of heat pools at the base of your spine, prompting you to tug at his hair. "Jesus Christ- you feel amazing..."
Your fingers slither upwards to pinch your nipple, adding to the slick between your legs. He grunts in annoyance, pushing your hand away and replacing it with his own, ducking his head down to fondle the sensitive area with his tongue. The sounds that leave your mouth have an immediate effect on him, thrusting his hips further into you involuntarily. A high-pitched moan falls from your lips as he meets your rhythm with an intensity that makes you dizzy.
"Such sweet noises you make," he praises in between shaky moans. "Oh, fuck-" is followed by a string of curses in spanish, sounding akin to a growl when you clench around him, leaking onto his shaft. "My perfect girl."
Your hands are never steady, roaming across his clothed back, chest and scalp. His on the other hand, hold onto you like his life depended on it— the fervor of it all, the way you call his name as you bear down on his cock and engulf him in your arms is borderline intoxicating. He lays his forehead on your shoulder, overwhelmed by just how good everything feels.
And that awakes something in you. Javier is not the quiet, laid-back kind of lover. Though he does let you take the lead from time to time, he's never surrendered himself to you like he is right now; panting and whimpering beneath you, murmuring adorations against your skin. And it's so hot for some unknown reason. It makes your pussy a dripping mess.
"Javi, look at me," you pull his hair with mild force and he consequently throws his head back, darting his eyes up to meet your stare. The way you keep bouncing on his length makes the dangling cross on your chain hit his chin continuously. None of you actually care. "D'you think I ever do this for him?"
He doesn't answer, but the grip on your waist tightens and his brows knit together. Then, he shakes his head faintly, "No."
Your thighs are starting to feel sore, but you pay no mind to it, still too drunk on the feeling of fullness, the ravishing sensation of his dick stretching you open and hitting all your weak spots effortlessly. "That's right," you pant, pressing your cheek to his temple. "Only you."
He rubs his nose on the side of your face and you can feel the all-too-familiar scratch of his mustache on your flush skin. You breathe him in, his soft hair smelling of sandalwood shampoo. "Only me," he echoes in a gruff, possessive note.
Suddenly, his pace starts picking up and you feel unable to keep up with him, this new sensation nearly making you cry out in euphoria. Javier moves his head enough to press a sweet kiss to your jaw and you glance down at his lips before going back to his lust-blown eyes. His calloused fingers glide to form tight, lazy circles on your bundle of nerves as he keeps steadily working on your cunt; he muffles your moans with a mere brush of lips that leaves you longing for more.
You cup his face in your hands and lean forward to connect your mouths once again. It's slow at first, filled with fluttering emotions that come bubbling up your chest. You melt in his embrace, your bodies melding together as you explore each other. It's deep and passionate but still controlled; filled with a profound earnest that expresses all that cannot be said between you, but that is throughly felt.
The sensation is positively dazzling, making your heartbeat race like you just ran a marathon. The heat gathers on your lower stomach again, starting to build your second crescendo. His cock throbs inside you when your nails scratch his scalp and the kiss becomes sloppier– wetter. But it isn't the only thing that is. Javier smirks against your lips when he can no longer just feel your slick, but rather hear it too. Each time he snaps his hips, the lewd sounds of your pussy drown any other noise around. It eggs him on.
"Mírate," he forces you to look down at where you're connected and the vision is nothing but obscene. The whole scene being a glistening, sticky mess. "I've truly ruined you for anyone else."
You don't retort, your senses beginning to cloud with every single thrust. You desperately cling to his shirt, your knuckles going numb as he keeps his relentless pace. Faster, harder, deeper. He can tell you're close by the way you wrap around him, how you can't hold back your cries and drop your lips next to his ear.
"Javi, I can't..." you stutter as he soothingly runs his fingers through your hair and your vision becomes blurry.
"It's okay, you've been so good," when he speaks, his voice sounds contorted by his own high overpowering him. "Come for me, baby. I've got you."
And that's all it takes for the coil to finally snap. Your body shivers from head to toe and you go completely limp in his embrace. Your whole world is spinning, feeling slightly lightheaded as your orgasm washes over you. Javier fucks you through it, thrown over the edge by your reaction. He feels your teeth sink mildly into the flesh of his neck and all of the sudden everything in his life comes down to this very moment; all he can perceive, all he knows and cares about right now is you.
As pleasure rushes over him, he whimpers, his hips start to falter and a couple of filthy moans scratch the bottom of his throat. You call his name softly, his head falling back as he reaches his high. He comes in warm, thick spurts inside, coating your walls and spilling from your entrance whilst he works his way through his climax. An odd sense of serendipity overcomes the satisfaction that settles within him when his lungs fill with air and his heartbeat stabilizes slowly.
He hears you murmuring sweet nothings to him, feels your warm, velvety lips spreading kisses on every inch of skin that you can reach. He feels shaky, peaceful and weirdly alive. Your image surges again in front of him, making his chest swell; that characteristic guilt beginning to creep into his system. Deep down, he knows he can't keep doing this to you— holding you back, tying you to him. Though it wasn't entirely his fault.
"¿Qué piensas?" you wonder, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck. He shakes his head, refusing to answer.
Confused, you attempt to move and give him some space, but he cradles you in his arms, keeping you close. Your feel sticky with sweat and his spend dripping down your inner thighs; yet, strangely safe at the same time, letting his cock grow soft inside you.
"I don't..." he talks gently, not directly to you. "I don't wanna let you go."
There's vulnerability in his words, in the way he holds you. "You don't have to."
That's not what I mean, he wants to say. Instead, Javier leaves a tender kiss on your forehead. Push me away. Please, push me away. But you don’t do as he prays for, to his dismay.
“I guess not,” he mutters. “But it’s getting late and I want to take you home before nightfall.”
You reluctantly roll to your side, wincing from the sense of emptiness that comes with the action. “I suppose it’s for the best. I’m going out for dinner tonight, anyway.”
He playfully cocks an eyebrow at you, “With him?” you nod distractedly, taking a box of tissues from the Jeep’s glovebox. “Shit, I might need to fuck you again. Make sure you’re really satisfied and full of my cum when you’re prancing around him.”
You smile, carefully rearranging your clothes. “Well, don’t threaten me with a good time.”
In the end, no matter how either of you feel or whatever may happen in the near future, one thing is very certain: you won’t stay apart for long.
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nicki0kaye · 3 months
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random Kallus hc inspired by someone else's post #2
man he's gotta hate that he lost his bo-rifle to fucking Thrawn
like so the moral of the Honorable Ones to me was Kallus realizing he has nothing of value in his life--he has TWO personal items to his name; this fuckin glow rock and his bo-rifle which he has just learned is his by right. Regardless of what he did to Lasan, regardless of all the awful reasons he should never be accepted by any of his enemies, that fucking bo-rifle is his and no Honor Guard of Lasan can argue otherwise. There are a lot of reasons he turns on the Empire, but this is where it starts. The realization his life is so small and so empty, and he just limped back to it. Why? Why is this life worth living? And with more research, it stops being a selfish desire to ditch and becomes an informed hatred of the Empire, BUT
lets go back to that kernel of rebellion. Kallus' life is small and empty. He's got a Rock and Bo-Rifle. That's all that defines him outside his identity as a ISB officer.
He just acquired the Rock. He's been living with bo-rifle as his single defining trait for maybe a decade at this point. It's an extension of his beef with Lasat in general, which started on Onderon when one blew up his first Big Boy Mission. It makes sense he'd fixate on such a traumatic event but it's not JUST that. You don't get to have personal hobbies or a sense of fashion or really any kind of identity within the Empire outside who you personally want to fuck up. Kallus chose the Lasat and got fucking spiteful about it, which led him to the Siege of Lasan, where he won his bo-rifle.
but like, it's more than that. It isn't just hatred--if it were, I don't think Zeb would have gotten to him. I think that Kallus has had a buried respect for the Lasat for a long time, if only because of how much time and effort it took to win and then become proficient with the bo-rifle. Then there's the layer of it being the only true outlet for identity he's allowed. THEN there's the fact the bo-rifles are a Force weapon. They've got kyber crystals inside them. And I personally subscribe to the idea that everyone can sense the Force, thus be guided by the Force, it's just that not everyone can recognize what is intuition/one's own emotions and what is the Force, nevermind having an ability to influence other shit with the Force.
What I'm trying to say is I wanna believe Kallus bonded with his bo-rifle in a cosmic way. He is the Warrior, hunting the future; the Force always had plans for his ass and saw that a Force-conductive weapon made its way into his hands, that he then spent years becoming deadly with. That fucking weapon is connected to his soul.
and he lost it to Thrawn.
Thrawn didn't beat him in a fight while Kallus was armed with his bo-rifle, but he super beat his ass in a fight. Even if Kallus could argue he didn't earn the bo-rifle, Kallus couldn't retrieve it before having to gtfo. It's still somewhere on Thrawn's stupid ship--my assumption is that Thrawn goes and adds it to his collection of stolen artwork.
Regardless, Kallus doesn't have it anymore. This thing he poured what little identity he was allowed to maintain, years of hard work and practice and countless battles where he relied on it to keep him alive as his primary weapon, nevermind a Force connection, anyone would become attached to a weapon after years of service. This reminder of Lasan, this piece of history, its fucking gone now.
I don't think he'd think he's allowed to mourn that, considering all he's done, but you can't logic away your feelings, and now he's with a group of ppl who actively find that kind of coping pretty fucking unhealthy. At some point he's gonna have to process what that weapon meant to him and its not gonna be pretty.
imo, he gets a tat of it on the forearm of his dominant hand. He'd think about it for a long time but only go through with it after finally discussing all his mixed up feelings with Zeb, who would super approve of him paying his respects to a sacred fuckin weapon this way. It was his, by right, by soul, by will of the Ashla.
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anneapocalypse · 7 months
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How the Scions failed Alphinaud.
(Note: I am still in Stormblood, so no spoilers please. ❤️)
And while I'm on the subject can I just take a moment to say how incandescently angry I get for Alphinaud sometimes?
The Crystal Braves had bad idea written all over them from the start. (It's funny to me because of how much it's like the Inquisition in Dragon Age, a paramilitary organization funded by powerful socioeconomic interests that answers to no sovereign nation, except that the Inquisition for all its flaws wasn't being run entirely by a precocious sixteen-year-old.) The question about where the money is coming from is set up pretty early and it's not overly subtle, Alphinaud is just like "Whatever, it'll be fine," and nobody really presses it. And yes, Alphinaud is really overconfident at this point in the story, but the thing is, Why wouldn't he be? He's got every single adult around him telling him he's a prodigy and a genius and basically Louisoix reborn and everything he's doing is a great idea and moreover that it's his duty to Eorzea to keep doing what he's doing!
And I just cannot come down too hard on him for how bad everything goes, because someone, any of the actual adults in the room, including all the Scions and the Warrior of Light, should have taken one look at this situation and gone, "Hang on a minute." And not one of them did, because I think all the Scions were too caught up in their own unhealthy hero complexes to realize that they should not be allowing a teenager to take on this kind of responsibility for the fate of three nations. Instead they saw Alphinaud acting like them, emulating the adults he admired and respected, and they went, "He's doing great."
And now he has to live with the consequences. Did Alphinaud need a humbling experience somewhere in his growing up years? Probably. Did he need it to be one where people died because of his decisions? He did not. I think Alisaie really had the right idea when she said, "I can't just be Louisoix's granddaughter, I have to find my own path, or at the very least I need to understand who my grandfather was and why he did what he did and the consequences of it, before I decide to follow in his footsteps." But Alphinaud. Oh, Alphinaud. He thinks he already knows who he's meant to be and what he's meant to do, and none of the older and wiser people around him ever see fit to tell him that maybe he too needs to find his own path.
I love the Scions, I love all these characters dearly, but they failed Alphinaud so badly here and honestly I haven't really seen any of them truly acknowledge that yet. They've all got other problems, it's true, but still... rather than a handful of loyal Crystal Brave proclaiming that they totally still trust their sixteen-year-old commander, what I really want is for someone to say to Alphinaud, "I'm so sorry. We should never have put this on you. We should have seen what could go wrong and we didn't."
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wyldblunt · 8 months
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It is I, the previous anon unmasked. I have questions about the Mordrem Daimhin post: what caused them to give in to Mordy :0c
(the mordrem dav post in question, since i'm answering this late!) OKAY SO.... i initially intended for this to be a quick doodle answer but then as i started chewing on it i realized to answer this question i have to talk about. basically dav's entire life story. and i'm incapable of brevity. so oops, here's an illustrated essay about daimhin's entire life story?
let's talk it out. let's start with this.
let's say you awake a valiant of the wyld hunt, entwined with another -- same day, different cycle. you wake up promptly at midnight, go straight to his pod and sit outside it. he takes his sweet fucking time, sleeping WAY in, and only finally ambles his way out a few scant seconds before daybreak, yawning.
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you've seen the same things, and neither of you know what any of it means; none of the images in your entwined dreams seem to actually crystallize into a task. but you glimpse a symbol that matches one day on a banner, find out it's the emblem of the order of whispers, and know that must be where you need to go. so you start training.
he trains half as hard for twice the results. he cares half as much and gets twice the rewards. there was an assumption, when you first woke, that the two of you would stay in lockstep forever -- you must be absolutely equal, if you share a destiny -- but it doesn't hold true for even a moment.
(of course, you don't know he feels the same exact way about you; you don't know about the gnawing bitterness, the envy, that you can learn anything by trying hard enough, while he feels hopeless about anything that doesn't fall within his raw talent. he hides it well, and you never ask.)
he makes it into the order on his first try. but they don't want you.
you're devastated. he's not. "there's no time limit," he says, breezy as always. and it's not like he'd leave you behind.
but it takes two more years. two years, for you to hone yourself into something the order of whispers wants. as little as donner ever seems to care about the hunt, how can he suppress the itching it when it comes, the agitation? how can he outrun the resentment, when you're holding him in place?
you don't talk about it. you just keep your head down and work harder. the fear of his impatience morphing into contempt is a stronger motivator than anything else you've tried so far.
when you get through, you get through, and then, finally, it feels like you'll be rewarded -- because almost immediately, you run into the next symbol from your dreams. the dark and terrible thief, towering, wreathed in smoke, and FINALLY things are going right because he takes a professional interest in you immediately, mentors you, assigns you to his own personal task squad (and this, alone, is enough to make up for everything you've suffered so far). but.
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holding the lightbringer's attention is difficult; pleasing him is impossible. to impress him? a complete fantasy, one you can't even daydream about for too long without hurting your own feelings.
this is when everything was meant to even out, and instead you're competing again. not just with donner, either; even with the stupid necromancer he already had, the one who can barely keep herself alive and seems to have NO formal training whatsoever.
worst of all -- as humiliating as it is to put this particular juvenile grievance into words -- he doesn't even seem to like you.
you keep your head down. you work harder. if anything, that makes it worse; the squeaky wheel gets the oil, after all, and you never make a sound.
then he replaces you.
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("no, he didn't," donner insists, one night shortly after merrit's introduction, when you're complaining about it; "replacing you would be if you were kicked out of the squad. there's just a second mesmer now, that's all.")
but that's not all. you're watching.
it's not even that glyndwr is any less strict with the new mesmer, any less harsh towards her; but he's attentive. at times, he even seems concerned about her. you hear him call them his "charge," once, to one of his contacts at the vigil; he has only ever called the rest of you his "agents." the first time he slips up and calls them his son, you realize the enormity of the gap between you.
and it's incomprehensible. you have learned, quickly, that merrit is cowardly and self-absorbed. his mesmerism is disorganized, improvised, unflattering, concerned only with survival. he takes the easy way out in missions, over and over, always without hesitation and seemingly without shame; worse than that, he seems baffled by your disapproval when you confront him about it.
donner can tell how unhappy they make you. maybe that's why he's always so cruel to them. you're selfish enough not to do anything about it, to even be a little pleased by these scraps of locker room vengeance.
you keep your head down. you work harder. acceptance of your position grows around your ribs and down your throat like a strangling vine.
eventually, you're all dispatched to maguuma.
it's horrible, but so was orr. it's lonely, but so is everything else in your life. but the commander is twitchy, agitated, scattered. he jumps at shadows. he lashes out at comrades. is he thinking about what his behavior brings on all your heads, when he acts like this?
is he thinking about you when rytlock brimstone calls him a liability, and he snaps entirely?
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obviously not. because after brimstone bests him and spits in the dirt, calling this outburst just another piece of evidence --
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he leaves.
he leaves you here.
he leaves you to die in the fucking jungle.
("no he hasn't," merrit insists, even though she's been crying and panicking just like the rest of you. he goes on and on about how it's not fair to call it abandonment, about how it must be part of some greater plan, all that bullshit, and now even damage can't stand him and there has to be some scrap of satisfaction in that, that you're not the only one who's sick to death of the commander's precious favorite, but there isn't, there's just--)
this can't be him. this person cannot be the one who took up so much of your dream, the one who's supposed to be your destiny. unless that's all your dream was ever meant to be. can a wyld hunt be so awful? can your purpose be to die horribly, thousands of miles from home?
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(until now, you have been very, very good at ignoring the call.)
(it hasn't known you well enough to tempt you.)
but... couldn't it be, that the commander's role in your story is now complete?
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maybe this is exactly where you need to be. and if so, he brought you this far, safe and sound.
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you can forgive him for this. after all, how could he have known...? how important it was, how vital, to bring--
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yuikomorii · 5 months
Note
Let's judge fairly. Yui had her development too. It's not like she didn't have any development.
// I wouldn’t necessarily call it development, I would rather say the story itself advanced and she grew accustomed to the circumstances. Over the course of the games, she got better at managing the Diaboys since you get to know someone after spending a lot of time with them and well… she also started acting more cheeky and bolder with them, for the reason that they started dating. She didn't know Karlheinz well in HDB and MB, so she didn't have any opinion about him, but in DF and CL, she called him out after Karl revealed how much of a jerk he is. It's not like she wouldn't have done that earlier if she had known the truth about him from the beginning—she called out Cordelia in the first game, after all.
However, I do think there are two particular scenes where they tried to highlight some major (?) development.
One is from Ayato's MB route, when she acknowledged acting in a selfish manner and concentrating solely on her feeling rather than on Ayato too, who was also having difficulties. She came to the realization that Ayato isn't perfect, despite being cute and giving her pleasure, and learned to accept him for all of his good and bad traits.
The other one is from Laito’s LE route, in which Reiji tries to make her understand that not believing in your lover can be very painful and that it’s not okay talking like that behind his back.
The message itself was good but this is the type of forced character development I have mixed feelings about. They didn’t have to make Yui act like that because it only portrays her as the bad one here. Yui is the first person Laito has ever opened up to and she was well aware that Laito hates Karlheinz, so getting his powers would undoubtedly damage him, yet she kept failing to understand that, despite the fact that they’ve been dating for some months and should have known better. The scene in which she says that Laito knows everything about her, yet she knows nothing about him only makes her appear so foolish in order to generate conflict. Like… come on, how can the heroine claim such a thing after dating a guy for SIX games?? Plus, the reasons of Laito’s actions were OBVIOUS that not even Reiji could entirely put the blame on him based on his situation.
As for Ayato’s MB route, I can’t entirely put the blame on her; I mean… Ayato is super good-looking and could probably pull anyone, but I can’t comprehend how she failed to realize that he has negative traits too?? It should be crystal clear that nobody is perfect and that everyone has their own issues, so you can’t beg someone to consider you special if they don’t feel like it.
It would have been 10 times better if Rejet actually tried to overcome her weaknesses, instead of adding new flaws. No, writing the heroine to suddenly have a shallow or selfish mindset only to make her “become a better person after realizing her mistakes” was not needed at all. And it’s also not fun making a character learn the same lesson in more games.
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Credit to: dialovers-translations on Tumblr
The best scene, in which they could have genuinely made her evolve as a person, was in Carla’s LE route, when she admitted wanting to help him and the ghouls. It would have been nice seeing Carla putting faith in her and giving her an important yet hard task. Seeing Yui try her best to do it right, even if she was struggling at first, would have been such a cute moment. But nope, they decided to push her aside instead.
Other than that, idk if becoming a masochist and less sane as in the beginning count as development, lol, but if it does then it works like that too.
I get that it’s an otome game and most people play it for the guys but I feel like the heroine deserves to have her own storyline where she discovers herself and improves. DL feels more like the Diaboys' journey than her own, which is ironic because she’s the HEROINE, and in her most recent appearance, Rejet literally described her as “Ayato’s lover” without even using her name. I don’t really think the developers care that much about her, otherwise I doubt they’d be ok with all her character inconsistencies.
Yui is my favorite heroine because I find her really cute and likeable, plus I relate to her, but I’m aware of the fact that a likeable character does not equal a good one. She’s your average early 2010s heroine, who could have been indeed better written but serves her purpose, which is still good.
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toska-writes · 1 year
Text
“You lost this”
Summary: Trying to kick the habit of losing your lightsaber it somehow always ends up at the hip of the commander of the corrie guard. I mean that’s better then getting in trouble
Paring: Commander Fox x GN Padawan Reader (PLATONIC)
Warning: none!
Word count: 1386
Notes: once again this man deserves some good fluffy moments, also this one kinda mimics the other Fox fox I have I just realized but whatever. If you have any suggestions feel free to shoot them my way!
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Kriff how could this happen again.
Your master was sure going to kill you this time. Ponds walked beside you now as you ran a hand through your hair.
"I've heard plenty of story's of Master Kenobi losing his lightsaber, how bad could it be, you'll find it." He tried to give some comfort.
"1," You held a finger up " I would love to hear that story, 2 you don't know how important it is. Master Windu has told me many times that I shouldn’t loose it because your lightsaber is your life."
Ponds stared at you for a moment before shrugging his shoulder. "Sorry mate, but if you lost it here one of the corries might have picked it up."
It was your turn to stare now. "Really think they'll have it?"
"It's better then turning up empty handed to the general."
Ponds gave you a small nod before turning to part down his own hall of the huge temple. "Ill let Master Windu know you'll be studying with Ahsoka then sir."
You opened your mouth to question him for a second but Ponds flashed you a cocky smile before turning away from you.
You scoffed to yourself for a moment being ever so grateful for the commander of the 91st.
Corries, corries right you could easily go ask the Coruscant Guard to see if they had seen it. But why was it so hard.
Would any of them tell your master, or worst. They already have.
A sweat stared to form a little at the top of your brow. Where could you have left it? The hanger, the temple. It could be anywhere on Coruscant by now.
Great great great. If you didn't find it first it would be just your luck your master would find it before you.
You stood now on the steps of the Jedi temple. You had to go quick if you were to be back before anyone noticed your gone. Ponds excuses could only save you for so long.
In the back of your mind you felt a slight humming sound, the force around you flourished as you  acted on this feeling.
You took a few steps with your eyes still closed, the force was now guiding you to the senate building? Mmm your best guess is Commander Fox might have it.
As you walked you recounted the very few encounters that you had with the clone commander. All were pleasant and nothing to make you sweat, but you still did either way.
The building laid out in front of you, the feeling was growing strong now. You could hear the hum of your kyber crystal as if it was in your own hand.
Taking a few steps you scanned the area quickly, trying to keep a low profile in a place you didn’t know all that well.
Fox was an allusive man when he wanted to be but the familiar feeling you craved coming from your saber was much stronger.
You spotted him from a distance away, he was chatting with another brother in red you weren’t sure you knew who though. From here there was no sign of your saber.
You cleared your throat as you made your way over. “Hey commander Fox?”
His eyes and body snapped to attend as did the other person with him. Fox’s shoulders seemed to relax ever so slightly when he saw it was just you but all the same he asked “Is there a problem commander?”
“Oh no I was just looking for something” You casually put your hands behind your back, the hum now grew to a quite background noise as it normally did and you instantly felt a lot better.
Fox head turned forward questioning slightly until his hand flew to his hip, and sure enough there it was clipped to his belt. “I’m assuming it’s this then? You came just in time sir I was just about to contact Master Windu.”
He could definitely see the worry on your face at the last comment as he handed back the weapon you cherished so deeply.
You gave fox a thankful nod then added “You know it wouldn’t be terrible to say if this happens again not to tell my master right away.”
The man standing next to him looked a little puzzled at this small exchange of words but you decided to ignore it.
“I’ll see what I can do about that sir.” He nodded
“Thank you Fox. I owe you.” You turned and quickly made your way back to the temple before Windu decided he really wanted to know where you are.
Fox stood for a moment accompanied by Hound who seemed just as confused as he.
“So that must be the Y/N you told me about.” Hound nodded at Fox. “They definitely live up to what you said.”
Fox gave a slight nod in return, Hound was definitely right about that.
The second time you lost your lightsaber you were already making your way after departing with ponds, to the senate building once again.
Fox stood more by the entrance now, as soon as he caught sight he swiftly made his way over.
In one simple moment he unclipped the saber from its resting place on his belt and held his hand out.
“You keep this up and you’ll tie with General Kenobi for the most amount of times lost.” He joked a little.
You shot an eye brow up as the cool metal made its way into your own hands. “Wow does everyone know that story?” You asked with a smile on your own. “You’ll have to fill me in next time I see you.”
“Hopefully not under this circumstance sir.”
With another small smile you made your way from the senate building. Fox would have to get use to that. But he did enjoy the visits.
The third time it was already like a reflex. Fox saw you come in and scan the building for a moment trying to recognize the armor of the Corrie Guard commander.
When you spotted him this time he already had the weapon in his hand- the weight felt uneven and deadly in his hands.
Fox held it out to you for a moment as you finished your approach grabbing the weapon and stop right in front of him. “Missing something Commander?”
You laughed for a moment, eyes sparkling.
You could just walk out, Fox found himself thinking about one time. You could make a snide comment or two and aggressively grab your lightsaber out of his hands. He wouldn’t be surprised many did. But as always you stoped have a kind smile and a small bow of gratitude then ask him how his rounds were or if he needed anything.
This time you asked if he was almost done with this shift. “No, I have a few more since I took over for Thire, he wasn’t really feeling himself.” Fox shut his mouth quickly after his last words, venomous words floated around his head saying he shouldn’t have shared and you didn’t really care.
But the compassionate look told him all he needed to know. “Well tell Thire I Hope he’s feeling better in no time.” You stated. “And since your going to be on a little while I was thinking about heading to a near by caf machine.”
Fox stuck his hand out waving you off. “No need for the trouble commander I’m fine really.”
The worry in his voice hurt you for a moment. “Nonsense besides I was planning on getting one for myself. Really it would be no hassle.”
Knowing your stubbornness he gave up the fight quickly, nodding his head in a response.
He watched you exit for a second, the bright glittering saber now hung where it rightfully belonged.
In a way Fox hoped that you would loose it again, not to get yourself in trouble but it’s refreshing to have someone to listen to what you had to say. Someone in the same boat as him but not in the same seat so to say.
But one things for sure, he would never get use to the weight that thing carried when it was on his waist. He’s seen them work before and those weren’t as pleasant as he’d like to remember.
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Taglist: @arctrooper69 @thereforepizza
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noarawriteszr · 8 days
Note
thanks for answering my question, if you don’t mind I’d like to request some fluff and angst with Cassandra and a female s/o
Cassandra goes hunting and the weather out of nowhere changes, it gets cold and Cassandra is having a hard time swarming, suddenly a lycan appears and injures her, and because of the weather she’s not able to run so she has to fight back, the injury is fatal so and she doesn’t have enough strength to use her sickle and doesn’t have arrows so she thinks she’ll die but before the lycan kills her, her mother kills it, before Cassandra falls to the ground, her mother catches her, Cassandra then goes into like a one month coma, her injuries are slowly healing and the crystallized body parts are turning back to normal. After she wakes up the person who’s there is her lover. The lover has been taking care of her the whole time, and when the lover noticed Cassandra is awake she starts crying and scolding Cassandra for being reckless and not listening to her because the lover had told her not to leave the castle when it’s not completely warm. Cassandra apologizes with a blush. Since Cassandra can barely move, the lover does everything for her; feeding her, bathing her, changing her and so on, cassnadra feels embarrassed and complains she’s not a baby but deep down she loves it. (Hopefully this made sense and if you do decide to do the request can you do how the lover reacts to an unconscious and injured Cassandra? And how she helps Cassandra heal while she’s unconscious)
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Still my baby!♡
Cassandra Dimitrescu x fem reader
plot: Cassandra is seriously injured, and during her recovery period, she gets more annoyed than ever. Luckily, she has someone to take care of her.
a/n: helloooo! how are you, nonny? <3
first of all, this was a challenge for me lmaooo it was nice writing this tho I also made some changes and I truly hope you don't mind, I tried my best to keep the essence of it ;) not proofread oops
I'm so sorry it took so long :( pls forgive me and enjoy it ♥︎
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Cassandra knew she should have listened to you and she was absolutely sure she shouldn't have sneaked out of Dimistrecu Castle. The consequences of her own actions were hurting her as she ran from the very well protected humans, not even with her sisters would this battle be easy, all she could feel was the cold. She flew uncontrolled towards the castle as fast as she could and in the situation she found herself in with several crystallized parts of her body and injuries, her effort was definitely not enough. The situation gets worse when she gets close to her home swearing to be safe until a lycan appears from beyond the grave and easily bites her right leg, she falls to the ground and can only scream in pain and beg anyone who can hear her mentally that her departure wouldn't be so cold.
When she could swear she was seeing the division between the world of the living and the world of the dead, the monster on top of her was cut in half as if it were nothing, she didn't even need to make an effort to lift her head and see who it was. Before closing her eyes she only heard:
“CASSANDRA!!!!”
So cold.. Cassandra slowly gains consciousness, and again, all she feels is cold. Mentally she grumbles while trying to pull the fabric that covers her with her legs, which was a mistake when she feels a deep pain in her right leg, her eyes open quickly and she lets out a scream that could scare anyone. In less than 10 seconds, the bedroom door opens, and she sees her mother and her beloved panting, clearly scared by the scream.
"Cassandra, my dear, what's wrong? Are you feeling bad? Have you seen any lycans? What happened?" – As expected, she was bombarded with questions by her mother, which left her even more panicked when she saw y/n crying, sobbing against the door.
“... I tried to move my leg.. it h-hurts” – The relief was clear on her mother's face, who realized that it was nothing different than expected. Alcina Dimitrescu takes a deep breath and explains everything that happened for her to be that way, Cassandra can see that she held back when scolding her daughter, she would certainly receive a severe punishment when she gets better.
In the meantime, she didn't even notice that you left and came back with a tray, silently reaching an agreement with Alcina, and she said goodbye and left you two alone. As soon as the door closed, you calmly approached your loved one even though your entire posture was the opposite of calm.
"Cassie, my love.. I want to ask you something: Do you want to kill me with a heart attack?" – And here the tears came back, Cassandra had never seen you cry as much as you did now, she couldn't do anything to comfort you and that was making her more and more disturbed, darn it. All she wanted was to give you a hug and assure you that nothing happened to her and that she was the toughest Dimitrescu besides her mom.
After long minutes of crying you manage to control yourself and place the tray on the bed where she was lying, she didn't even need to ask as you quickly showed her what was there, human flesh and a generous cup of blood.
If she could die of shame, she would right now as you help her eat and clean up the mess she made at meal time. As much as she was grateful, the shame was even greater, and she couldn't help but comment:
"I can feed myself, you know?" and you just roll your eyes and laugh at your girlfriend's predicted reaction.
"And I can help you, you know?" You jokingly answer her and notice that her cheeks turned red. You had to stop yourself from gushing over this.
“You almost scared everyone to death, I've never seen your mother as shaken as she was these last few days. Promise me you won't do this again, please promise me Cassie..” – It was visible that y/n was holding back tears, and Cassandra couldn't help but feel bad, intertwining their pinky fingers in a sincere and honest promise.
“For you, I promise.”
Days have passed since then, her recovery being one of the fastest even for being like her. Every day, she felt more like herself and hated lying in bed with all her strength. The only good thing is your company, it is, in fact, the only thing that made her stay in bed for so long without complaining... that much. Having all your attention, your affection and you close by is all she needs, even though she still almost needs to die from shame when you insist on taking care of her as if she were a child, helping her to eat, clean herself after lunch and dinner, read books for her and giving her the affection as if she were a being that needed all the care in the world, a baby. She couldn't lie. She LOVES it all, but she also knows that she is a renowned and respected vampire. You cuddling her like she was a stuffed animal wouldn't do any good for her reputation.
So she always complains to you and tries to push you away, to her luck or disgrace it literally has the opposite effect.
“Could you stop treating me like a baby? I'm a fucking vampire and I can still hurt you, baby” – Innocent Cassandra that think this scares you, it only made you look at her with more lovingly eyes.
“Awww, my grumpy vampy baby!” - You went to her and gave her loud kisses on the cheek and hugged her so tight that she squealed at it.
“I'm not a baby!!!” – She responds "mad" and tries to prove her point, which is, in fact, betting on a losing team.
“Still my baby!” – You give her the biggest kiss on the forehead and cuddle her like a small child, not missing her blushing cheeks and the bugs watching on the window.
Poor Cassie would have to deal with her sisters calling her a baby till the end of her life.
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guerrerajaguar · 28 days
Note
Are you ever going to finish the CEO rengoku x reader story?
Hey there! I felt really happy that you asked for this <3 and the answer is absolutely yes! I hope you like it
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CeoKyojuro x fem!reader (part 4)
Tags: @lalachanya, @aijlin @misslili265
CeoKyojuro x fem!reader part 1
CeoKyojuro x fem!reader part 2
CeoKyojuro x fem!reader part 3
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One Step Ahead
Kyojuro Rengoku has never been so abashed in his life before, his mind keept playing tricks on him as he mentally tried to recreate the scene that had just happened.
“Good bye, Rengoku-san”
Why? 
Why was it so hard to get close to you? His hair was a complete mess by now as his hands desperately tried to look for an outlet to his growing exasperation. 
All of this and for nothing.
This was also the first time he could not get whatever he wanted. This feeling of failure was a completely strange to him. 
And all due to someone that up until a couple of weeks ago, was an absolute nobody.
This was certainly a growing obsession and for strangely as it could sound, he loved every single minute of it. The growing deception of you slipping through his fingers will only make his victory more delightful. Although, by that point, he wasn’t sure there could be any chance of triumph at all. 
Was there a way for him to slip into your heart?
He sighed deeply and soundly, right in the middle of his solitary CEO office. His jacket messily resting over his expensive brown oak imported desk, his tie loosen all the way up to his chest and his heart beating painfully. He was surprised by the fact of all the things he had to go through for realizing that he had fallen in love with you.
“I just hope that I didn't humiliate myself more than what I already have…”- He said, thinking out loud, not aware that there was someone listening to him.
“And why would you do that, brother?” - Almost laughing, replied Senjuro, the youngest member of the Rengoku dynasty. He was the entire opposite of his older brother. He was kind and respectful, everyone in the office enjoyed his presence, and even though he was still in college, it was not uncommon to see Senjuro working along with some multidisciplinary teams. He was really committed to help his older brother with the family company management, even if he did not agreed with some of Kyojuro’s ways.
“Ah Senjuro, what are you doing here at this time? Should you not be out with your friends on a Friday evening?”
“Mother sent me to look for you, as it seems you forgot our family gathering.”
“Was it today?” - He immediately checked his phone calendar and dropped himself deeper into his chair as he saw with disappointment that he had, indeed, completely forgotten about his family responsibilities. Pinching the bridge of his nose he continued:
“I am on my way now, I will apologize to our mother’s family…”
“What is with that expression, Kyo-ni? You look terrible!”- Senjuro said with a very affable expression, having a very good guess what the cause of it might be.
“To be honest with you Senjuro, I really don’t know anymore…”- He gave his brother a bitter side smile as he gently massaged his temples.
“Let me guess, this problem has a first and last name, pretty smile, beautiful hair, dazzling eyes and more important of all; she hates you.” - Said the younger blond while sitting over the elegant CEO desk.
“Senjuro, how could you possibly know that…?” - He was completely shocked to learn that at that point, he was so down bad that it was completely obvious.
“Well, I am not a kid anymore Kyo-ni! I can clearly tell when a man is suffering for love. But honestly, I thought you were a bit more charming. Because, I can assure you, that treating a girl so badly to make her quit is not the easiest way to get into her heart.” - He chuckled softly as he picked up one of the small crystal trophies that Kyojuro had given to himself, and that he so pridefully showed off.
“That is nothing like that, at all.” - He said while staring at the glass triangle statuette and he couldn’t help but to feel ashamed of the ridiculous idea of awarding himself.
“You see Kyo-ni, that is exactly the attitude that put you in THIS situation” - he returned the award back to its rightful place- “ You love to make things more complicated than what they should be, oh, and that horrendous pride of yours!” - Senjuro was smiling widely.
“By this time, it's pointless Senjuro, she really doesn’t want to know anything about me.” - His expression was serious but full of deception.
“That is because she doesn’t know the other side of you. We just need her to give you a chance to get to know you and I am sure that her perception of you, will change.” - Senjuro took out his phone and after he typed something on it, he showed Kyojuro his search results.
“Senjuro, I appreciate your help but I honestly don't think that this will make any difference”. - The CEO said as he took his younger brother’s phone.
“No offense Kyo-ni, but you need all the help you can get and as I see how you have failed so miserably, I will suggest that you take my advice.” - He smiled triumphantly as Kyojuro took a couple of minutes to weigh out his options.
“I guess it won’t hurt to try, and indeed, you are so grown up now that I never realized the time you stopped being a kid… ” - He chuckled loudly as he playfully hit one of Senjuro’s shoulders with his fist.
“This is owned by a friend of mine, so I will make sure that everything goes out perfectly, alright? I think this will be either a hit or a miss.”- Senjuro kept texting while Kyojuro and him walked out from the CEO’s office.”
“I really hope that Y/N likes it… “ - Kyojuro concluded as he reached the elevator as a secret bystander caught a significant amount of that conversation. 
Friday had finally arrived and you could not believe how suddenly you stopped desperately waiting for the weekend to arrive. You still had to go to work but you were finally enjoying it and living your best work life. The Uber driver left you at your friend’s front door. This was barely the second time he invited you over, so you contributed with a small peach cake and a your favorite chilled beer.
Your friend opened the door as soon as you knocked. A very manly and profound scent escaped through the entrance, it smelled just like his jacket, so deeply of him. This situation, unconsciously made you feel safe, so you stepped in as if that home was yours. He was wearing a very tight black shirt with washed-off denim jeans and his hair was entirely placed back in a low pony tail, exposing his face completely.
“Made it just in time and brought these goodies with me.” - You said with a soft smile, while Giyuu picked up your coat from his hands.
“I was wondering if you were going to come at all” - Giyuu said with a playful sarcastic tone.
“Ha! You wish! You promised me movies and popcorn and I wont leave until I get both.” - you said as you walked into Giyuu’s living room while he placed the cake and the beer inside the fridge. He was a very neat and organized man, and that of course, was not a surprise at all. His apartment had a minimalistic style, everything had a dedicated place, not a lot of decor, but colors were perfectly balanced to make the place look very sophisticated.
Everything seemed to be in its righteous place, except for the living room. And oh boy. Your blue eyed friend had definitely gone over the top with this improvised “home theater”. The space in front of you was filled with fluffy over-sized pillows on top of a cream-colored rug, every single blank space was filled with equally soft blankets, it was a dreamy invitation to throw yourself to sink into that overwhelming comfiness.
Without a second thought, you sunk yourself into that pillow fortress, fitting your body in the middle of all those blankets, just like a little girl. As you scanned the place, you noticed a gray cabinet that had some pictures on top of them. Your eyes observed them from left to right. 
The first, you assumed, was one of his family; you recognized his sister and two other people that looked just like Giyuu and Tsukako respectively. The second picture was him with his best friend Sabito, you have met his friend the first year you both became close at Giyuu’s improvised birthday party. He was a very vivacious guy, a bit too loud for your liking but a good person after all. And the third picture was you and him during the last company Christmas party. 
Something settled in your stomach when you looked at that picture, as usual, Giyuu had barely smiled at all, and if you remembered correctly, you almost had to forcefully drag him into the photo booth. Naturally, you made sure to pick the most ridiculous attire to make you both look even more ridiculous. You politely gave him a copy of that picture, being sure that if he did not threw it away, then it will never see the light of day ever again, to say the least.
But no, there it was, the picture was beautifully placed inside a golden frame, decorated with very delicate flowers. You could not recall where your copy was. Maybe you left it at your old desk? You probably would never know.
As if he had received a silent cue, Giyuu reappeared into the living room and beamed softly as he saw you already cuddled into the pillow nest that took him almost 3 hours to set up.
“It’s not that I don’t like it, but I believe we should get another picture together, don’t you think? A photo where I don’t make you feel miserable.” - You chuckled as Giyuu’s puzzled expression made you yank your face into the picture direction. Your friend’s face flushed instantaneously, he had totally forgotten about that picture, what was he thinking leaving it laying around just like that? 
He walked towards you, popcorn in hand, not really knowing what to say, so he tried his best to calm himself.
“I- I was not miserable. I had fun.” - He offered you the bowl without staring at you, you grabbed a fist-full and continued:
“I still think it’s a good idea to get another picture, I am afraid I left my copy at the office… Let’s take it the next time we go to the movies!” - you concluded before munching the little buttery softies.
Giyuu’s heart was racing wildly, he suddenly remembered the conversation he heard between Rengoku and his younger brother earlier that day. Because of that and various other reasons he had to make that day, THE DAY. He did and could not wait any longer. Will he summon enough courage to speak about it?
It was his turn to pick the movie, The Conjuring was within the repository of your favorite ones. You inadvertently drank a bit too much beer and end up finding the movie scarier than what you remembered. As nervous as Giyuu was, he mustered enough courage to speak softly to your ear:
“If you are scared, you can always look comfort in me, you know?”- he said it in such a velvety but inviting tone, that your body felt an electrical discharge that ran through your body, directly to your toes. You were sure that your heart was going to break loose from your chest any moment now. Your attention was directly driven into your blue-eyed friend. In which moment did you placed yourself under his shoulder, innocently resting on his chest?
He stared at you for a moment as well, his eyes slipped to your lips, you swore you could listen Giyuu’s wild heart beating as well. You both started to lean over, reducing the distance between the two of you, did Giyuu closed his eyes already? You quickly wondered what would Giyuu’s lips taste like, but instead of leaning over, you stood upso quickly that you stumbled and fell back into the pillow-free sofa.
“Oh wow! Look at the hour? Is that late already? I am so sorry Tomioka-sa… I meant, Giyuu, haha!”- You spoke broken words intertwined with nervous giggles, desperately looking for your shoes and phone. You were clearly impaired by the booze you drank.
Giyuu was still in shock, paralyzed with amazement trying to recollect what had just happened. That was not the way he wanted things to happen.
“Found them!” - you said with your phone in your hands while desperately requesting the first Uber driver you could get.
“Hold on Y/N, I-I…, please let me explain…”- he said as he watched you, hopelessly, getting ready to leave any moment now.
“Oh no, you are good! I was the one that took advantage of your hospitality, I better take my leave now. You probably have very important things to do tomorrow morning and I am here, keeping you busy very late at night!” - your head was a mess, but your heart was even more confused. You have never wished that someone responded to your Uber request as fast as in that moment.
“I-I, understand. I-I… at least let me take you home, I do not want you to take a cab by yourself with all the beer that you drank.”- he muttered sadly as we picked his keys and his jacket.
“Oh no, no need, there is an Uber driver already waiting for me outside!” - You lied, smiling at him, walking quickly through the door, but as your hand reached the door knob, you briskly returned, kissed your friend’s cheek and said to him:
“Can we talk about this another day?” - Giyuu Tomioka had never understood the out of body experiences until that moment. His hand automatically traveled to the cheek where your lips had rested an instant ago. You took that moment of shock from your friend to walk away quickly to meet your in-existent Uber driver. Maybe it was fate or the power of your thoughts, but a car was waiting right in front of you and after confirming the vehicle identity information you opened the door and rapidly entered.
“Good night, thank you for taking my request!” - you said without looking at your driver, as you were still staring through the rear mirror with the hope of catching a glimpse of Giyuu. Make up your mind already, you spoke to yourself.
“Y/N…?” - Your driver responded and as you identified that voice, you snapped your entire attention to the driver now.
“Akaza-senpai?!?”-
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Ok so, I took forever to write this part but believe or not, I had this in my drafts for a long time now. So I still have not decided what is going to happen between Akaza and Y/N but I have 2 different possible outcomes with these too.
I felt really bad for Giyuu baby :c, but we all love a good dose of drama, don’t we? I wont promise to update soon because I don’t know if I would be able to but I will certainly try my best. Adulting takes most of my time since I became a functional adult lol.
I for sure will be updating my devoted husbands next, I JUST LOVE this self insert story hahaha.
If you have read the other CEO Kyojuro parts I thank you from the bottom of my heart, if you are a fellow fiction writer you might know how some days we can feel like our writing is not good enough and that’s ok! I do this for fun and will try to be a bit less harsh on myself.
If you are reading this story for the first time, I wanna welcome you to my writing blog and want to thank you deeply for taking the time to read my lil story, I hope that you like it and you have the chance to read my other writings. Until next time- Disturbia. 
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katana-no-neko · 6 months
Text
Call Me By My Name
ao3
Natsu laughed voraciously as he flew, twirling through the air while the wind gust around his scales, not paying any mind to his cousin shouting after him. Many of his fellow dragons were remaining in their den with the rumors of a fae in the area, but Natsu didn't really care. He'd never met a pureblooded fae before, but really, how scary could one be? He was way stronger than some hoity-toity faerie, and it's not like he was stupid enough to tell one his true name.
He soared past trees and through mountains, smiling the whole time before spotting a crystal clear lake down below and deciding to drop in for a swim. With a big splash, he landed, diving deep into the water and transforming to his human form as he came back up with another hearty laugh.
It didn't take much longer for him to feel a gaze upon his back. Spinning around, Natsu quickly spied a pair of round, brown eyes peeking out at him from behind a tree. The eyes widened and turned away, the owner realizing they'd been caught.
"Hey!" Natsu called, "Wait! I didn't mean to bother ya, come back! I promise I don't bite," he smiled a toothy grin as the eyes hesitantly peered back at him again. "At least not usually."
A gorgeous laugh rang out from the eyes' direction, and Natsu found himself wanting to hear it more. He made his way towards the shore, closer to his mysterious visitor. An 'eep' sounded out as he approached, and Natsu was suddenly very aware how naked he was. With a bashful flush, he dipped back in the water before he flashed this person any more than he already had. "Heh, sorry. Forgot I wasn't wearing clothes in this form. Not used to running into people while I'm out like this. I'll stay in the water!"
"I..." a voice started to say, and Natsu was eager to hear more of it. "I suppose that makes sense. Dragons probably don't often wear clothes."
Natsu grinned excitedly, finally hearing his new friend speak. "Yeah, I'm a dragon! I guess you saw me fly down, huh?"
The woman laughed again. "It would have been hard to miss..."
He chuckled. "'Spose so. Why don't you come out? It'd be easier to talk if you weren't behind the tree. Or don't," he added, sensing her hesitation to reveal herself. "You don't have to. So how are you? What're you doing all the way out here?"
"I'm a traveler..." she started. "I wander from place to place and this lake looked like a nice spot to rest for a while."
"Oh wow, I bet you've seen lots of cool stuff doing that! I've flown about everywhere near here but I never leave home for too long - always back before dark. Dad'd have my head if I disappeared like that," he laughed.
"Sounds like he really cares about you," the voice responded, almost a little sadly.
"Well sure, he's my dad! Doesn't yours?" Natsu cursed his lack of filter, sensing the woman tense. "I'm sorry, that was a bad question to ask. Sorry if you've got a shitty dad."
"Yeah, he's... Something all right." She let out a sigh. "But it's okay! I don't have to deal with him. Not anymore and with any luck, not ever again."
He smiled at the determination in her voice. "Yeah, screw him! Who needs that bastard!?"
She giggled. "You don't even know him!"
"Ah but if he's made someone as cool as you upset, he's gotta be a bastard." He grinned, hearing her laugh some more, the sound her quickly becoming his favorite. "Hey, I just realized we never introduced ourselves! I'm Na-"
"DON'T!" the woman shrieked, finally coming out from behind her tree, frantic in her cry.
"You're..." Natsu took in the sight of her as his eyes widened. The pretty brown eyes he'd already been watching, supple pink lips that had released those wonderful laughs, braided golden hair that reached near to the ground, and long, pointed ears poking past the strands. "a fae," he finished.
She nodded, ears twitching nervously. "Do not tell me your name."
Natsu cocked his head. "But why not? I wanna be your friend. I think you're really cool, I wanna keep hanging out."
The woman shook her head with a frown. "You know I'm a fae and you want to be friends!? Don't you know how dangerous we are!? Everyone avoids faeries for a reason - as soon as I learn your name, I have full, complete control over you!"
"You seem trustworthy! I'd trust you with my name," he grinned.
She shook her head again, "that's only because of my magic - of course it's going to make you THINK I'm trustworthy, we have that magic to trick and lure people in!"
Natsu scoffed. "Well you did a real good job of tricking and luring me, stopping me from telling you my name like you did before!"
"I refuse to steal control over a person like that. I don't want anyone to be chained to my will," she admitted, ears drooping.
Natsu smiled. "See, that's why I trust you! If you were really trying to control me, you'd have stolen my name and never thought twice about it." He watched her ears twitch with nerves again. "Besides, you would need my true name, wouldn't you?" The woman nodded a confirmation. "Dragons never go by our 'true' name, specifically so that fae won't learn them!"
The faerie looked thoughtful. "I suppose that makes sense..."
"Call me Natsu, then!" The woman held her breath, eyes widening with fear. "It's not my true name, I promise," he reassured, her body relaxing as she realized he was not, in fact, under her magic's control. "Now come on, let's be friends!"
She smiled as she let out a sigh of relief. "You're persistent, aren't you?"
He laughed. "Some might say it's my best quality!"
"Alright Natsu... I'll be your friend. You seem truly wonderful, and I'd love to spend more time with you," she admitted.
"Yay!" he shouted, leaping out of the water in excitement. Landing on the shore near his new friend, he took her hand and grinned. "This'll be so much fun!" He cocked his head as he noticed her gaze avert and her cheeks burn. "Ah!" he realized with a start. "Still naked, aren't I."
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mosylufanfic · 7 months
Text
Rebelcap Whumptober Day 2
I went with the prompt in the title because I just loved it so much!
I’ll call out your name (but you won’t call back)
The first thing he heard was the monotonous beep of a heart monitor, slowly speeding up as he came to full consciousness.
The first thing he realized was that he couldn't move his arms or his legs.
"Easy!" said a voice. "Easy, easy. It's not permanent. We had to give you a paralytic."
He stared up at the strange face hovering over his. Twi'lek, he registered. He wasn't a prisoner of the Empire, then. 
Of course, that didn't mean he was among friends, either.
"I couldn't have you thrashing around and undoing all my hard work," the Twi'lek went on.
He made a questioning noise.
"I had to  brace your back to keep the spine immobile, remove your spleen and your appendix, set several ribs and vertebrae, and pump in a lot of synthblood. You're not entirely out of the woods but you may be seeing daylight. Do you know where you are?"
Scarif, he thought, but no. That was where he'd been. 
The last thing he remembered was kneeling on the beach, Jyn in his arms, holding onto her as his internal injuries and the shock wave of the boiling ocean raced each other to kill him first. And the burning point of her kyber crystal, pressed between them - 
How he had gotten from there to here was a mystery he couldn't even begin to solve.
Jyn. Where was Jyn? Dead? Somewhere else in this facility? He tried to look around but there was some kind of brace keeping his head immobilized. All he could see was a rough pourstone ceiling, pitted and stained with age, and some of the area around the foot of his bed. That wasn't any more informational - just pourstone wall and a jumble of medical-supply crates, long expired if their labeling was anything to go by. 
"You're on Tamsye Prime," the medic informed him. 
Tamsye Prime, he thought. Why was that important? Why was that ringing the most distant of alarms?
When he tried to reach for it, pain burst in his midsection like a bomb, and a groan escaped his throat.
"Sorry, let's get these meds dialed up." A couple of clicks, and something cool began to spread through his veins from a spot in his elbow.
"What are you doing?" said a second voice. "She wanted to know when he woke up."
"I'm checking him first." A straw nudged at his mouth, and he instinctively jerked his head away. "It's water," the medic said.
He considered pulling away again, but his throat was dust-dry and a coughing fit might tear him open. And this medic didn't seem the type to poison him after working so hard to put him back together. He accepted the drink, holding most of it in his mouth to trickle as gently as possible down his throat.
"Right away, she said."
"I'll comm her in a moment."
The painkiller started to take effect, blurring the knife edges of the pain into spiky clouds. He thought about asking for it to get dialed down again. He didn't like to be fuzzy. But he wasn't sure he could form coherent words.
Jyn, he thought. Jyn.
A click and a buzz and the second voice said, "Yeah, he's awake."
"Kriff you," said the medic.
"I'm not presenting my ass to be kicked along with yours," said the second voice. 
He lost time then, awareness blurring in and out until a door swished open. The mysterious Her.
"Everybody out," said a voice. It had the mechanical edge of a vocoder, distorting it from original. 
Shuffling and murmurs as people exited. 
"Everybody means everybody," said the vocoder'd voice. 
"Kest - " the medic said in a pleading voice. 
"Do I have to say it again?"
A pause, and one last set of footsteps, and the hiss of the door. 
He scrabbled through the clouds in his head to pull his thoughts together and work out what to do. 
Was this Jyn?
The aggression tracked. But why would she be wearing a vocoder? Unless she was trying to disguise herself from whoever it was that had them. 
"You awake?" said the voice, now clearly addressing him. 
He let his eyelids flutter in confusion that wasn't entirely feigned. 
"I'm turning down your painkiller drip so you're clearheaded enough to talk," she went on. "Of course, that means the pain will come back, too. If I like what you have to say, I'll turn your meds back up."
No. It couldn't be. Not talking to him like this.
He was pretty sure.
He waited long enough for the clouds to clear to the edges and then allowed his eyelids to slide open.
"Took you long enough," said the voice.
She was staying to one side of his head, correctly guessing that with his neck braced, his field of vision was severely limited. Anything he could use to guess at age and species were disguised by the vocoder, of course. Gender, too, if he hadn't heard the pronouns the medics used.
But he had the feeling that, like many inexperienced interrogators, this one was letting the vocoder do the work and didn't realize the kind of information he could extract from what it left behind. 
Like a Core accent, there in the syllabic emphasis, the rising and falling tones of the sentences. 
Like - 
No, it wasn't her. 
He didn't think. 
"What's your name?"
He flicked through aliases like flimsicards. "Aach," he managed. "Clem Aach."
"Hmm. Where do you come from, Clem Aach?"
"Ogem," he said. Mid-Rim, far enough away from Scarif so that if the Empire were searching for them - and the Empire had to be searching for them - it might throw these people off the scent. 
"How did you get here?"
"Crash," he said.
"Crashed in what? We didn't find any wreckage. Anywhere. "
He made a puzzled face, as if the lack of his entirely fictitious spacecraft was a surprise to him as well. "Crashed," he said again. 
Silence for a moment, as if she thought he might change his mind about that. He waited it out with the patience of one who used silence like a scalpel. 
Soon, much sooner than he would have, she went on, "I was the one who found you. In a rock canyon just outside our perimeter."
"Thank - you," he managed. A little politeness sometimes went a long way, and if he played this right, they might think he was some gormless civilian in the wrong place at the wrong time.
"You were saying a name," the voice said. 
"I was?"
"That name is why I brought you back. You think we waste resources on every broken wreck of a being we find in the wastes? I want to know where you heard that name."
"Don't know," he lied. "Maybe - delirious?" That was possibly not a lie. Given the extent of his injuries, and his lack of memory, he could have been delirious. He hoped he hadn't dropped anything other than Jyn's name.
Because who else would he have been calling out for?
"Handy," the voice said. 
Stalemate. He wasn't willing to betray Jyn's identity, she wasn't willing to give him anything to go on. 
And yet, his captor had already heard him. If he admitted to it, maybe they could get somewhere. Even if "somewhere" was knowing how he'd ended up here. 
"Could - have - could have been 'Jyn,'" he said. 
Silence again. This time, calm and considering, like she was working out which of his fingers or toes to slice off first. "Jyn Erso," she said.
Hells. He had said her full name. Maybe in response to someone. That wasn't like him. 
Reluctantly - "Maybe."
The footsteps again, traversing the length of his bed. Slowly, his interrogator stepped into view. 
It was Jyn.
And it wasn't.
Her face was different - rounder in some parts, sharper in others. Her mouth was softer and fuller, most of the lines and shadows around her eyes missing, some scars vanished, only smooth skin in their place. And there was no recognition in her eyes as she looked at him. Just suspicion. 
Her eyes cut to the heart monitor, whose high beeps matched the sudden galloping pace of his heart. "So you do know who I am," she said.
He made a noise of partial assent, still staring dumbfounded. If the girl in front of him was a day older than sixteen, he'd walk into the nearest Imperial base and give himself up right now. 
"Good," she said. "We've got that out of the way." She stepped out of his line of sight again, and he stared at the ceiling, trying to feel his way through a situation that had suddenly gotten a lot stranger - and it hadn't been particularly normal in the first place. 
Tamsye Prime.
Sixteen-year-old Jyn. Clearly not going by her original name, and not willing for anyone else to hear it, even in the Partisans - for that had to be who the others had been. 
Impossible. 
The dial of the medication clicked again, two times. Three. Downward, as there was no cool rush into his elbow again. 
"Now," she said very softly. "Who sent you?"
FINIS
Inspired by the woooorrrrrrld of difference between Felicity Jones as Catherine Morland and Felicity Jones as Jyn Erso.
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wavypotatochips · 1 year
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omg omg omg i love ur sergios work <33
can i make a request? its my first time requesting something so i dont know if im doing it right but maybe reader being jealous when sergio spends all of his free time with his bf instead of reader but just because sergio wanted to surprise her with like her dream travel so he’s been planning it with his bf? can u make it angsty in the beginning and fluffy towards the end please? thank u if u will accept this<333
𝐒𝐮𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 | 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐨 𝐑𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐬
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GIF by sergio-para-siempre
𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: Sergio Ramos x Female Reader
Word Count : 2.1k
𝘈𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘦: My allergies have been terrible this week, and I've been sneezing so much that I've been getting headaches, so instead of writing 3-4 request , I was only able to write 2 this week c': hopefully my writing is still good c': ANYWAYSSSS Thank you so much for requesting!! I Hope you like how I represent your idea ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚!!
(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ REQUESTS ARE OPEN, currently covered in college work so as of now uploads will mainly be on weekends. Thank you for your patience c’: ♥
You had been dating Sergio for almost two years now, and things had been going great until recently.
You've been feeling left out and ignored by your boyfriend, Sergio, for weeks now. He's been spending more time with his best friend, Marcos, than with you. Every time you try to make plans with him, he either cancels or tells you he's busy with Marcos. You can't help but feel jealous and wonder what's going on between them.
One day, you decide to confront Sergio about it. You call him on the phone and say, "Sergio, we need to talk. I feel like you've been avoiding me for weeks. What's going on?"
Sergio sighs and says, "I'm sorry, babe. I've been busy with futebol and hanging out with Marcos. He's been going through a tough time, and I want to be there for him." He hates having to lie to you right now, but he wants this surprise to be perfect for  you. His best friend, Marcos, has been assisting Sergio with organizing a week-long vacation surprise for you, which is why they have been hanging out a lot.
You feel your heart sink at his words. You understand that Marcos is going through a tough time, but it hurts to know that Sergio is spending more time with him than with you.
"Can't you make time for me too?" you ask, your voice quivering.
Sergio hesitates before replying, "I'll try, but I can't make any promises. Marcos needs me right now."
You hang up the phone feeling frustrated and hurt. You decide to give Sergio some space and see if he comes around.
Days turn into weeks, and Sergio continues to spend all his time with Marcos. You try to be patient and understanding, but it's hard not to feel jealous and neglected.
One evening as you check through your social media page, you come across a picture that Marcos shared of a boardwalk and crystal-clear water. In Marco's story, you can see that he appears to be in a tropical location, and in the bottom-right corner of the screen, you can see Sergio's tattooed arm. When Marcos posted the image, he must not have noticed Sergio's arm was there.
 Your heart sinks as you realize that Sergio has been keeping a secret from you.  You believe he's been planning a trip with Marcos, and you weren't invited. You assumed he was leaving for a Paris-Saint-Germain away match, NOT going out with Marcos once more.
Feeling hurt and angry, you call Sergio and demand an explanation. "Why didn't you tell me about the trip with Marcos? Why wasn't I invited?"
Sergio hesitates before saying, "I'm sorry, babe. Marcos and I have been planning this for months, and I didn't want to ruin it by telling you." Sergio believed that by speaking the flimsy truth, he would feel better. Of course, Sergio and Marcos have been preparing this vacation for months, but it is not for him and his best friend; it is for you and Sergio. They are at a resort so Sergio can check out the priciest water huts in person to ensure that it will be in top condition for you two.
You feel a lump form in your throat as you try to hold back tears. "So you're saying that Marcos is more important than me? That you'd rather spend time with him than me?"
Sergio's voice grows defensive as he says, "No, of course not. "
"What about me, then? Don't I deserve to feel special too?" you say, feeling your frustration boiling over.
Sergio sighs heavily, the line remains silent.
You shake your head and say, "I don't know, Sergio. I feel like you've been neglecting our relationship lately. I don't feel like a priority to you."
Sergio's voice grows softer as he says, "I'm sorry, babe. That's not it at all.. I promise all of this will make sense soon, okay?"
You feel your heart soften at his words, but you can't shake off the hurt and jealousy you've been feeling. "I don't know, Sergio. I just need some time to think."
Sergio sighs again and says, "Okay, I understand. I’ll be back home in two days, forreal this time. Then we can talk, ok?”
You say "mhm" in response and end the call without caring if it was petty or not. Of course you love your boyfriend, but lately he's been acting in ways that aren't quite to your taste. He generally clings to you and wants to be with you all the time, but during the past few weeks, you have only seen each other twice, which is very out of the ordinary.
Now, two days later, Sergio is finally back home. You're sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone, when you hear the front door open. You look up to see Sergio walking into the room, looking tired but happy to see you.
"Hey," he says, walking over to give you a hug.
"Hey," you reply, hugging him back. "How was your trip?"
"It was good," he says, pulling away from you. "Marcos and I saw some really nice things."
You can't help but feel a pang of jealousy as he mentions Marcos, but you push it aside and try to focus on the conversation.
"That's good," you say. "I'm glad you had a good time."
Sergio looks at you for a moment, as if trying to read your expression. Finally, he speaks.
"Listen, I know we had a bit of an argument the other day," he says. "And I wanted to explain why I've been distant lately."
"Okay," you say, feeling your heart rate speed up a bit.
"It's not because I'm upset with you or anything like that," he says. "It's just that I've been planning something for us."
"Planning something?" you ask, feeling confused.
"Yeah," he says, sitting down next to you on the couch. "Marcos and I have been planning a week-long getaway for us."
"A getaway?" you repeat, feeling your eyes widen in surprise.
"Yeah," Sergio says, smiling. "I wanted to do something special for us, and Marcos has been helping me plan it."
You sit there for a moment, feeling a bit dumbfounded. You hadn't expected this at all. Knowing what he's been up to makes you feel terrible about how you've been treating him. You wish you could take those stinging accusations—along with the caustic attitude that accompanied them— when you practically said he didn't care about you anymore and you felt as though the love was no longer there. You know that you've probably hurt him, and you're filled with regret.
"I...I don't know what to say," you finally manage to say.
"I know we've been going through a rough patch lately because of how busy futebol has been," Sergio says. "And I wanted to do something to show you how much I love you and how much you mean to me."
You look over at him, feeling a lump form in your throat. Despite your earlier anger and frustration, you can't help but feel touched by his words. You're grateful that Sergio is forgiving and understanding. He knows that you're not perfect and that you make mistakes. He loves you despite your flaws, and that gives you hope that things will be okay.
"I...I don't know what to say," you say again, feeling a bit emotional. "That's...that's really sweet of you,” you can't help but feel a sense of joy bubbling up inside you. You had no idea that he was planning something so special for the two of you, and it's clear that he put a lot of thought and effort into making it happen. 
"I'm so sorry that I was acting bitchy towards you. Now everything does make sense," you say, giving him a small smile. "I can't believe you did all this for us."
Sergio grins back at you, looking pleased with himself. "I wanted to do something special for you, mi amor," he says. "Something that would remind us of why we fell in love in the first place."
You nod, feeling a warmth spreading through your chest. 
"So, where are we going?" you ask, feeling a bit of excitement building up inside you.
As he moves closer to you on the couch so you can see his phone screen as well, Sergio takes his phone out of his pocket.
"It's a surprise," he says, grinning at you. "But I'll give you a hint. It involves sun, sand, and lots of relaxation."
You raise your eyebrows, feeling your heart start to race. You still can't believe that Sergio has planned a trip for the two of you, and you can't wait to find out more.
As you watch, Sergio pulls up a page with pictures of a stunning beach resort, complete with crystal clear water, palm trees, and luxurious villas.
"Say hello to our little slice of paradise," he says, pointing to the screen. "We're going to be staying here for a week."
You stare at the pictures, feeling a sense of awe wash over you. "Sergio, this is incredible," you say, turning to him with a huge grin on your face. "I can't believe you did all this for me….. For us!"
Sergio grins back at you, looking pleased with himself. "I wanted to do something special for you, mi amor," he says. "And I wanted to remind you how much I love you."
You feel a warmth spreading through your chest, and you can't help but lean in to give him a kiss.
"I love you too, Sergio," you say, feeling a sense of happiness and contentment wash over you. "But do me a favor," you begin to say, drawing his full attention back to you, "If you ever ignore me again, I'm going to strangle you." He chuckles at your joke before swiftly embracing you and kissing you on the forehead, saying, "I'll never do it again, princess, I promise."
As the days pass, you and Sergio spend your time lounging on the beach, sipping cocktails, and exploring the island. You take long walks along the shore, hand in hand, watching the sun set over the water. You have deep, meaningful conversations about your hopes and dreams for the future, and you laugh and play like you haven't in ages. It's like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, and you're able to relax and just enjoy each other's company without any distractions or stresses. As your week comes to a close, you and Sergio sit on your balcony, watching the stars twinkle overhead. You lean your head on his shoulder, feeling a sense of contentment and joy wash over you.
"Sergio, thank you for this week," you say, feeling a bit emotional. "It's been incredible." Sergio turns to look at you, his eyes soft. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, mi amor," he says. "I just wanted to remind you how much I love you, and how committed I am to making our relationship work." You nod, feeling a sense of gratitude and happiness. "You know, Sergio, I never doubted your love for me," you say, looking up at him. "But this week has shown me just how much you're willing to do for us. And it means the world to me." Sergio leans in and brushes his lips against yours, sending shivers down your spine. "I would do anything for you, mi amor," he says, his voice low and husky. "I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy." You feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed with emotion. You know that things won't always be easy between the two of you, but this moment feels like a turning point. Like you can get through anything as long as you have each other.
As you lean into Sergio's embrace, you feel a sense of peace and contentment wash over you. You know that this week has been just the beginning of a lifetime of love, adventure, and happiness together.
"I love you, Sergio," you say, looking up at him with a soft smile.
"I love you too, mi amor," he says, his eyes sparkling with warmth and affection. "Thank you for giving me the chance to show you just how much."
You snuggle into his arms, feeling a sense of happiness and hope for the future. You know that there will be challenges along the way, but with Sergio by your side, you feel like you can conquer anything.
As the night wears on, you and Sergio talk and laugh, sharing stories and dreams for the future. And as you fall asleep in each other's arms, you know that this week will be one that you'll never forget. A week of love, laughter, and adventure. A week that brought you closer together than ever before.
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shuyui-nether · 6 months
Text
My Blue Sky
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Prologue: AO3
Summary: Her hair was shiny like sun in the blue sky. I want her to be my blue sky.
The air in the forest was dark and the only sound that could be heard was the sound of crickets and the howling of wolves. While the moonlight was shining its light on the ground through the clouds, the forest was filled with the sound of four children running and panting.
Four children were running in the forest and running away from an unknown danger. Their bodies were completely wounded and their clothes were muddy and dirty, and the holes in the forest made them fall down many times and get up again.
"Hurry up... keep going... we mustn't give up now....."
The boy who was running ahead of all of them with dark black hair motivated them to continue their journey faster.
*TIMESKIP*
Four children had escaped from the orphanage and are now lost in the forest. After running a very long distance, they are now trying to rest a bit. While their body is wounded and sweating and still panting, the older boy tries to cover the wound on his elbow to stop the bleeding.
The little boys were each sitting in a corner of the forest and trying to regain their energy so that they could continue moving and find a safe place.
"Ruki..... how much..... more... do we.... have to run?"
Azusa, the youngest boy, while his face was full of wounds and all his clothes were torn, looked at the older boy with tired eyes and asked him. It seemed that the hard and long journey had tired them all.
"Don't worry guys. We succeeded. We escaped from that hell. You don't have to worry anymore."
Ruki tried to calm his friends by saying sweet words. He looked at each of his friends and realized how disappointed they were. To wander without any home in the cruel world of humans made them despair. But Ruki did not want to give in to these simple things.
"Kou, Yuma, Azusa... don't be afraid anymore. We escaped from the real hell and now we are free. We continue on our way to find a safe place. And there we build a house for ourselves. We don't need anyone because we have each other and that's enough. From now on, the four of us are brothers and we always take care of each other."
Ruki's look was full of motivation. He now introduced his friends in the place of his brothers and swore to take care of them forever.
"You are right, Ruki. Guys, we will be together forever and we will take care of each other. Kou and Azusa, I swear I will take care of you and Ruki with all my heart."
Yuma smiled sweetly and walked over to his new brothers and held out his hand for them to take his hand and officially become brothers. Tired and injured children held each other's hands and promised to stay together forever and take care of everyone. They ended this vow with a warm and lasting hug.
*TIMESKIP*
The children in the forest were fast asleep except for one. While trying to soothe his pain by caressing his wounds, Kou was staring at the sky and looking at the stars.
Her golden hair covered her turquoise crystal eyes and her earthy face looked at the sky with great love. It seems that he has received a valuable gift and wants to stare at it for hours.
"The sky is beautiful. I like to see the blue sky when the sun shines."
The child mumbled and reached up to the sky to touch it. As much as he can play with the stars with his hands. He was so engrossed in watching the sky that he didn't even notice how fast time was passing.
"You are not from here."
Kou, who was engrossed in watching the sky, a voice caught his attention. At first, he thought it was a fantasy, but when he looked closely, he noticed that a little girl was watching him from among the bushes.
The girl seemed to be much younger than him. She was short and thin with pale skin and beautiful fluffy hair that was the color of the sun. At first, he thought that the girl was a ghost, but when he looked at her a little more, he realized how beautiful she was. She looked like angels.
"Who are you?"
Kou, who was startled by the presence of the girl in the forest in the middle of the night, tried to ask the girl her name. But the girl did not answer him.
"Can you come forward? I want to see you better."
Kou asked the girl to come out of the bushes and go under the moonlight so that Kou could see her better. The girl who tried to hold Kou's hand for a moment stopped her voice. It was the sound of Kou's stomach that made Kou blush in embarrassment.
"You are hungry."
The little girl whispered in an innocent voice. Her voice was so cute and calm that it was lost in the sound of the forest wind and the sound of crickets.
"Come with me."
The girl, who realized that he was hungry, asked him to go with her. Still confused, Kou followed the girl without saying a word. After a few minutes, they left the forest and reached a church.
"I didn't even know there was a church nearby. Maybe there is someone there who can help me and my brothers."
After a few minutes, Yui came back from inside the church and brought a basket full of red and fresh apples for Kou. The apples were very beautiful, they shone like precious gems and made Kou hungry.
"Come... take this basket and take it with you. You are hungry. I'm sure your brothers are hungry too. Take this and share with them."
Kou was staring at the innocent and beautiful eyes of the girl who offered him a basket full of apples and had a sweet smile on his face. Kou had not given her anything, but this girl was so kind that she gave him such a great favor.
Kou slowly took the basket of apples from the girl's delicate hands. He was so happy that tears flowed from his eyes.
"Thank you... you are very kind.... Now tell me what should I do to compensate you?"
According to his childish habit, Kou expected the girl to ask for something in return for the basket of apples. He had grown up in a place where no one did anything for free and he doubted that this girl would not be like them.
The little girl who was surprised by Kou's words smiled sweetly and took out a small handkerchief from her pocket and cleaned the dirt on Kou's face and showed him a bright smile that made Kou blush.
"Kindness is always free... I don't ask for anything from you..."
The two children were staring into each other's eyes. He was immersed in a beautiful paradise. It was like a dream and he didn't want to wake up. He wished to remain in this dream forever and ever.
In response, Kou smiled at the girl and took her hand. At this moment, the sun rose and a beautiful blue sky appeared. Kou looked at the sky. To the sky he always wished to watch. He looked at a girl holding his hand and noticed that her face was shining in the beautiful light of the sunrise. She really looked like a goddess. As if Kou had found a more beautiful sky in the little girl's heart.
"Kou... where are you..."
Kou, who was immersed in that sweet moment, realized that his brothers were calling him.
"Your brothers are waiting for you."
The girl who gave him a sweet smile whispered softly and let go of his hand and went towards the church. She turned back to say goodbye to Kou for the last time.
"Maybe one day we will meet again."
The childish and delicate voice of the girl caused a sweet smile to appear on Kou's face. Kou waved to the girl and went to the forest to join his brothers. He suddenly realized that he still did not know the girl's name.
"Hey... you haven't told me your name yet..."
Kou, who had quickly returned to ask the girl's name, realized that the girl had disappeared. She's back inside the church and Kou misses his last chance to find out her name.
Kou, who was disappointed by the girl's disappearance, looked at the basket full of apples in his hands. The apples arrived very fresh and juicy and he couldn't wait to share them with his brothers.
He was about to turn back when something shiny on the ground caught his attention. Kou walked closer and bent down to look at it more closely. It was a head flower decorated with three different colors. This was the head flower that the beautiful girl tied in her hair and it showed that none of this was a dream and all of this was real.
Kou reached out to the head flower and picked it up. It was really beautiful and looks even more beautiful in the girl's golden hair. Kou caressed the head flower gently and put it in his pocket.
"One day... I will find you again. I will give you this then."
Glancing at the church one last time, Kou smiled and took the basket back in his hand and turned back towards the forest. Where his brothers were waiting for him. With the hope that one day he will see that girl again and admire that beautiful sky in her heart again.
When Kou returned to his brothers, he noticed the presence of a strange man next to them, who was smiling at him and holding their hands.
The strange man who noticed Kou's presence smiled at him and walked towards him with slow steps. He knelt down to his height and gently stroked his head.
"I will fulfill your wish. And I will give you eternal life. Tell me what do you want?"
The strange man with long white hair and wearing a black cloak smiled at Kou and extended his hand towards him. Kou was staring at him in shock and knew that this opportunity would only be given to him once. He hesitantly extended his hand to the stranger and his delicate fingers took his hand and accepted his offer.
"I want to see that blue sky again. Only that sky and she will be mine."
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