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#and he's beyond a normal human life time by far
notachair · 7 months
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thinking about how Sypha described Alucard like a "cold spot in a room" in S2, and Alucard showing up at the end of Nocturne S1 looking all desaturated, though yes ethereal, but also in a sense cold and ghostly, all buttoned up at the front. Sypha saying his sadness being like an icy well. And here he'd been so soft and happy by the S4 finale 😭 I'm nervous- but excited. And I fear the new groupie got some walls to tear down
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dykedivorce · 7 months
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if any other bitch in konoha had been gay apart from sasuke none of this would have happened to my son naruto.
#pussy from the turbotron edgelord 3000 and his whole life went up in flame. NOT worth it#no but fr it's insane how he bamboozled every fan into thinking he was so interesting and cool and badass when .#at the point im at in shippuden hes by far the least interesting of the main characters. one track mind (vengeance) and no depth beyond that#like the other characters rn : sakura coming in to her own ; finding her path and her strength + sharing a connection so deep with naruto#over their common loss that they both just Know although they absolutely cant talk about it#yamato: the only survivor of orochimaru's monstrous experiments on children; kakashi's stand in thats so different from kakashi#it makes you wonder what it would have been like with him as their teacher from the start;#a mystery thats clearly trying his best but whose mission truly is A Lot#SAI: A BRAINWASHED SPY A PAWN FOR A SECRET ORGANISATION WHO CLINGS TO HIS HUMANITY NO MATTER HOW MANY TIMES HES BEEN PUNISHED FOR IT#WHO FELL IN LOVE WITH NARUTO FOR MAKING HIM REALIZE HOW DEEP THINGS COULD BE FELT AND HOW DEEP RELATIONSHIPS COULD RUN#WHO HAS BEEN DRAWING A BOOK FOR HIS DEAD BROTHER FOR YEARS EVEN IF HE'S FORGOTTEN WHAT HIS BROTHER LOOKS LIKE#WHO DECIDED TO SPARE SASUKE BECAUSE HE'S LOVED. WHO JUST WANTS TO LEARN HOW TO LIVE A HUMAN LIFE.#MOST AUTISTIC CODED CHARACTER OF ALL TIMES HAS NEVER SUCCESSFULLY MASKED A DAY IN HIS LIFE.#sasuke: sasuke#anyway. im not touching on naruto because i could be here for days#BUT while sasuke on his own so far is very whatever. the narusasu dynamic is truly one for the ages#bc i just saw the ep where sasuke manages to see kyuubi inside naruto and wooshes him away and it's very like.#oh so hes literally seeing naruto's demons and banishing them even as hes telling naruto they dont matter to each other anymore.#oh ok cool cool cool cool this feels normal and not something to obsess over#jesus christ why am i typing all this. who here cares#naruto thoughts
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levitiquee · 6 months
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All that's left.
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“I know you’re there.”
Levi called out, startling you. You’ve been watching him from the side of the wreck, watching as the ghosts of your comrades appeared for one last time, one last salute. One last declaration of all they dedicated. One last goodbye.
And when Hange gave you a nod, you nodded back.
You two are all that's left.
You stayed out of his sight even after they disappeared, giving him the privacy to mourn. God knows he needed it. You didn’t think he had noticed your presence, but then again, who were you trying to fool? His extraordinary instincts were never to be underestimated.
Sighing, you pushed yourself to stand straight and stumbled forward. He glanced at you with the side of his eye. Ever resilient, ever strong, the cracks were so slight, just barely there. But you knew. You could always tell.
“Hi.” You mumbled. He stared at you as you dragged yourself in front of him, slightly limping.
“Nice of you to make it out alive.” He said.
“Who would’ve thought?” You shrugged.
“You made an ugly titan by the way.”
“I’m sure you would’ve looked charming.”
“Bet.”
You smiled. The conversation was so unbelievably normal. Here, in the wreckage of everything, all the corpses, smoke, blood and ruins, here you were, back to how it always was. It almost felt surreal. Almost as if you concentrated hard enough, all of it would go away and you’d find you and him back in the soggy cafeteria of the scout headquarters, back to bantering with him and arguing about silly little things that don't really deserve arguments but it’s you and Levi so of course it’d end up an argument.
You felt so old suddenly.
How come you ended up here? In this way?
And Levi looked so tired, you could cry. Hasn’t he given enough? Doesn’t he get to rest now?
“Does that..” You glanced down at his leg, the one he had spread out in front of him. It was clear it was beyond repair. The fabric of his pants were torn at the knee, from where it was crushed between the titan’s jaw, a bloody, mangled mess. “Does that hurt?”
“Not really, no.” His eyes went to where yours were. “Numbed down a while ago. Can’t feel shit really.”
You sighed. "Not very humanity's strongest anymore, huh?"
Levi raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?" He said. "Careful, I could still kick your ass."
"I'm sure."
You grinned. Then went ahead and dropped yourself beside him. He frowned.
“Shouldn’t we be getting up now?” He said. “Why are you getting all comfortable?”
“Why not?” You muttered, pulling your legs upto your chest, hugging them. “What’s it matter what we do or not? Armin’s the hot shit now, let him deal with shit.”
He didn’t answer, but he made no attempt to get up either. If anything, he looked more relaxed. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to spend the rest of your life here. After all, you were so tired, and you were sure he was too. This was as good as anywhere else would be.
Because there’s no home to return to anymore.
“Do you think there’s anything left of Hange to bury?” He suddenly said.
You shuddered. What do you answer to that?
And your head pounded so hard, you couldn’t really think. Far away, you could hear someone yelling at another someone, but you couldn’t bother to pay attention to the words. Armin and the others would figure something out surely.
You were exhausted.
“Say, Levi.” You said tiredly, nudging him slightly.
“What?”
“Wanna get married?”
Levi almost choked, he was suddenly all uptight, stiff as a board as he looked at you with wide eyes.
“What the fuck?” He asked, scowling. “Are you seriously gonna make jokes here? Here?”
“Not joking.”
You lifted up your head, tilting it to look at him. It was hard to tell whether he was annoyed or flustered. You’re not sure where the sudden boldness came from, but this is as good a time as any. Might as well. “You’re right. It’s a bad time to make jokes. So I’m dead serious.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I am.” You nodded, turning your expression very serious.
“You’re weird as fuck.” He sputtered out after a few attempts to speak. The tips of his ears were red, red as it always was whenever you used to jokingly suggest that he should date you. Except you weren’t really joking anymore. You haven’t been joking for a long, long time.
“I mean..” You closed your eyes. You were too tired to even feel embarrassed. “We’re the only ones left. Me and you. You’re all I have left, Levi. So, why not?”
He stared at you for a few seconds, gaping. Then he started shaking his head. “You’re insane.” He finally said.
“You’re just realizing that?”
“No.” He muttered. “You’re insane. And it’s rubbing off on me.”
He turned to you, peering at you with one good eye, pondering. And finally, he made up his mind.
“You’re insane. And I’m no fucking different.” He sighed. “I must’ve hit my head pretty damn hard because I’m actually considering this shit.”
You grinned. “Go on, say it. You like me.”
“Wrong. I tolerate you.”
“Good enough. You don’t tolerate a lot of people, so I’ll take it as I'm special.”
He sighed, turning away, hoping that’s enough to hide his heart from you. You were special to him, always. But you didn’t need to know that. He didn’t want you to know that. He didn’t know how to let you know that.
“Can you believe us?” He scoffed. “We’re practically sitting in a graveyard. Half the world’s ruined but then there’s us.”
“That’s fine. Let’s keep being us. The world can go fuck itself. Meanwhile, we can—”
“Do not finish that sentence.” He glared.
You stopped, a laugh breaking through. And you laughed so hard your stomach ached and there were tears lining in your eyes. And even Levi smiled, just the slightest, barely. A subtle quirk of his mouth.
“We’re insane.” You admitted. With that, you stood up, stumbling a little before you found your balance. You reached out your hand to Levi, who took it without question.
“Come on, Lev.” You pulled him up, letting him wrap an arm around you to brace himself. “Let’s go home.”
You were right, Levi thinks as he limps with you, letting you support him. It was nice to finally let himself lean on someone.
You two are the only ones left.
You’re all he has now.
The world has taken enough from him. He’s so tired of letting go.
And he’d be damned if he let you go too.
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hero-hoe · 27 days
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Owner!Ghost with dogboy!Soap who gets puppygirl!Reader as a gift.
MDNI. 18+ ONLY
Hybrid au. Kidnapping tw, naive!reader, Fem!reader, handjobs (m/m). Ghost and Soap are a little off. Sadomasochism tw
Ghost who's had Soap ever since retiring being discharged due to injury and thought "fuck it, I need something to keep me busy", so he gets himself a retired dogboy. Nothing wrong with 'im, they just tend to cycle hybrids out after a few years of use. Any longer and they go a little wrong in the head. Something about their genetics and how they could get too into their tasks and needed human handlers on the outside.
Ghost is pretty sure the one he got is a little messed up anyway. Fine by him, the man had done his fair share of awful things, too far beyond being considered a good man anymore. At least having the mutt gave him purpose again, he was losing his mind trying to fit back in with polite society on his own. Johnny was Price's idea to get Simon out of his house, to take care of himself instead of wasting away in a bare bones cabin in the countryside. Take the dog on walks and all that, get a membership at one of those expensive city gyms that let hybrids in so they could both keep up on their training.
Johnny would bark his ear off about his time in the military, causing messes he never had to clean up and getting paid for it. And he didn't push when Simon said nothing about his own experience. And then they settled into a decent enough routine, too intimate to just be hybrid and handler, but Ghost wasn't a man who liked labels. They were just Johnny and Simon, that's all that mattered.
He got a good dog. Sure, he was a bit off, but nothing that couldn't be handled. He barked a lot, hated strangers, refused to sleep anywhere but Simon's room after the first few nights. And he was energetic, always bouncing off the walls or chasing down random animals in the woods. If he brought back something to snack on, Simon never minded, so long as he clean his own mess. Ghost wasn't above rubbing the dog's nose in the blood and mud puddle left on the kitchen floor. Good thing Johnny learned the first time.
It'd been a few years, Ghost hadn't bothered to keep track, but his silly pup was getting restless. Only after the third time coming home to Johnny humping himself stupid in the toy he'd gotten, teeth sunk into the pillows, did Simon finally take him to the vet. Trying to handle the situation himself hadn't helped, and he didn't like seeing his boy so miserable, even if he looked beautiful because of it. Simon swore Johnny never looked better than when he was desperate and on their sheets, fucking into a silicone pussy like his life depended on it and whimpering into a slobber covered pillowcase.
Everything was normal, the vet said, a waste of £150. It's actually a good thing, they told him, means he's healthy and happy enough to breed and is having ruts. Gave him three options: have Johnny fixed, let the mutt handle it himself every time, or get him someone to play with. Simon was offended at the idea of getting his pup snipped, immediately shutting the thought down. But he couldn't keep watching Soap sob and beg, pleading for something Simon didn't have. He held Johnny in his arms each but after that, making sure to stroke his needy pup through every orgasm needed with a hand around his neck for stability.
Johnny was a good dog, Simon relented. Never once bit without being told and made sure to moan nice and loud whenever he was hit. He deserved a treat.
So Simon did his research, went to all the shelters and breeders and even searched the parks for a new treat for his boy. Nobody was good enough, he thought, until he found you. Soft, sweet, and so, so innocent. You didn't hesitate to take his hand when he offered you a treat and some ear scratches, wandering away from your old owner and right into his truck.
You ate the special biscuits he gave you and fell asleep with a dopey smile on your face, so happy when he told you he was gonna take you home and introduce you to his puppy.
Johnny was at the door like always, waiting on his knees at the time Simon said he'd be home. He was anxious and confused today, able to smell you from outside as soon as Ghost pulled up. You smelled so good, but he hated the idea of Simon bringing another dog home. Was he not enough? He'd been so good, why would his master need another pup?
"Settle, mutt." Simon huffed as soon as he heard Johnny's whine, the hybrid kneeling obediently at the door with his ears tucked back. "Stop the damn whining. Got you somethin'." He huffed, shifting you in his arms.
Johnny scooted closer, staying on the ground and sniffing at you cautiously. One of Ghost's massive hands laced into a well maintained mohawk, tugging tight until he calmed down. The pain grounded him, a reminder that Simon was there, that he wasn't being replaced. "Fer me?" Johnny asked, taking another deep inhale along the skin of your thigh where is dangled over Simon's arm.
Ghost hummed, the sound pulling another whine from Johnny's throat. "Smells s'good." He whispered, eyes dilating as he crawled closer. "She's pure bonnie, Sir."
Straddling Simon's boot, rutting mindlessly against his shin while taking in deep huffs of your skin, Johnny couldn't wait to play with you.
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howtofightwrite · 3 months
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For a character that virtually can’t die and regenerates in order to keep living, how do you make action interesting? Emphasize they still feel pain, why they’re doing it?
I'm actually going to step back a bit from this question first, and complement it. This is a very honest question, and something most writers who include violence in their work, should really think about. Even if you don't think you have characters like this, you do.
Now, I'm going to dunk on Ben “Yahtzee” Croshaw for a moment. Ages ago (I think it was in one of his Resistance reviews), Yahtzee described, “threatening to blow up the world,” as the laziest form of raising the stakes. Because, “hey, I live on a world.” He's mostly correct. Threatening your protagonist's life is even lazier. In the vast majority of cases, your audience knows you won't go through with it. That you won't kill off your protagonists.
With that in mind, when you decide your protagonist is completely immortal, that changes less about how you write them than you might expect. The biggest difference is simply that they're directly aware of their plot armor, rather than them engaging in faux indecision based on their perceived mortality. Again, this is something that every writer who uses violence should think about, at least a bit. It is natural for a character to fear for their life, and have reservations about risking their life, but making the part where your character's lives are on the line isn't automatically suspenseful. In a lot of cases (consciously or not), your audience will call your bluff, when you threaten to kill off a major character.
If you think back to major character deaths where something drops them without warning, part of what makes those scenes work is the lack of (apparent) setup. The writer didn't spend pages teasing you with the idea, they just went for the throat and ended that character on the spot. This is more respectful of your audience, because you're not telling them, “well, I might kill this character, or I might not.”
To be clear, I'm not saying that there's no place for teasing your audience with a character's impending demise, just pointing out that in a lot of cases, this won't generate the kind of suspense you'd hope for.
So, to get back on topic, how do you make it interesting? Remember that while this character can't die, the same is not true for the characters around them. Depending on the tone you're going for, you could create an absolutely brutal crucible effect, where everyone around your immortal gets burned off, sooner or later. Whether that's literal, or figurative, is up to you. Even if your character can't die, watching people they care about suffer and die is going to have an effect on them.
You probably don't need to draw special attention to the physical pain they experience, but you do want to be aware of it. Especially in the context of how pain affects the victim's behavior. Beyond that, there is probably an element of pain being far more annoying to the immortal than it would be to a normal person. They know it's not telling them anything meaningful, but it is distracting.
Long-term, both of these can easily result in personality shifts. And, legitimately, this is a scenario where a character may be immortal, but they would still experience significant changes over time, and with the growing emotional pain, could have very adverse effects on your personality. This does have some very real, “live long enough to see yourself become the villain,” potential. How many friends can you lose before you stop caring? How many funerals can you attend before you start taking the phrase, “you're either part of the solution or part of the problem,” a little too far? How many times can you pick yourself up off the pavement a blood-covered alleyway, surrounded by corpses, before you start to forget what made you human in the first place?
And, that's not the only option. The simplest answer for maintaining tension when one of your characters is immortal is keeping your eye on what they're trying to accomplish. Keep track of their objectives, because I guarantee they can fail those. Even just keeping their own nature concealed from the mortal world is probably fairly important, because of the idea that men in hazmat suits will drag them away to some research lab and poke them until they figure out how to replicate their immortality, is a classic (and potentially plausible) threat. (Bonus points, if you're wanting to loop in something like the medieval inquisitions, or some other secret societies that could pose this kind of a threat.)
So, what do you do? To dig out an old cliché threat, “there are fates worse than death,” and it's probably worth exploring them. This also opens up new possibilities for threats. Finally, it's worth remembering that immortality does not guarantee success. If your character is hoping for that, it might be time to give them a very harsh lesson.
-Starke
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janners · 1 year
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Forgive and Forget
Ao’nung x deaf!reader
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warnings : little angst, Fluff, little bit of violence
wordcount : 9.9k
a/n : writing angst is so fun, but I also can’t write fluff for shit lol. Also bolded italics are when they are using sign language and just bolded is normal talking. Also I'm not good at coming up with titles, also not sure if I like this work sooo yea.
_
Being born into the family of Toruk Makto brings great joy for everyone. One problem, physical disabilities. Children turn to their mothers and fathers, for their comforting words and lullabies. But for you, you could only rely on touch and vibrations as your ears have been blessed with silence. Ever since you were born, you could not hear anything but muffled noises until it developed into silence.
Jake and Neytiri were stunned not knowing how to react as the great mother gifted them a child of tìkakpam(deafness). A child brought into a world of danger and curiosity who is at a disadvantage in many aspects. They brought you to Norm hoping that there was a way to assist you in any way. Normally hearing aids would be the answer but unfortunately the anatomy of a Na’vi is much different compared to a human.  
Norm promised them that he would find some sort of solution.
_
As the years passed, the more you grew. Most of your life was within the village. Jake and Neytiri wanted you to be safe knowing that hearing is a big part of their lives when it comes to sensing things around them. Though for you, you felt as if you were a burden. Having to constantly be with someone at all times and not being able to explore with your siblings. You understood the dangers that lurk beyond the village lines, but only once did you want to experience what others experience.
Learning also took you a little longer compared to other kids around you. You didn’t have a way of communicating with anyone until Jake remembered that sign language existed. Working with Norm, they created Na’vi sign language for you to learn. As they slowly introduced the new language to you, the more eager you were to learn. A fast learner is what they saw you as. Just within a year of practising and learning, you were amazingly advanced for your age - or at least amongst humans as Norm put it.
_
Being 17, you were allowed to have a bit more freedom compared to when you were younger. Even if you couldn’t go out as far as the rest, you still had certain areas you were allowed to explore. You also passed your lknimaya with little effort, just like Kiri the Ikran chose you without wanting to kill you. It seemed as though the great mother gave both you and Kiri close connections to her. Your Ikran had a deep purple colour with delicate black, yellow, and light purple accents covering its body - her name being flefle.
You had a routine that you followed everyday. Wake up, stretch, eat, then head out to do your chores. Your chores only really consisted of joining the gathering group to collect plants and fruit for the clan, as well as training under Mo’at with Kiri. Though on special days, you get to teach children sign language hoping that a second language could be learned throughout the clan. The children adored you, being gentle and patient with them and even goofing off made them love you as a teacher.
Unfortunately, the one day you decided to go against your parents' rules was the day you’d get caught by uniltìrantokxolo'. It all started with Tuk complaining that Lo’ak wouldn’t take her with him to explore the forest. Tuk had ran up to you as you were weaving some baskets, she quickly signed “Lo’ak is being a meanie, he won’t take me with him to the forest with the others. Can you please tell him that he has to take me!”
You give her a small smile in amusement knowing how Lo’ak and Tuk are half the time. You put the half done basket done to sign back “TukTuk, you know it isn’t very safe in the forest especially when you are still my little baby sister” she could only pout knowing that you are right but she tried asking you once more “Please y/n, I’ll be safe I swear on Eywa plus Lo’ak is strong enough to protect us and if not then he must suck as a warrior” You huffed in delight, you told Tuk to stay put as you went to go talk to Lo’ak about it.
Walking towards him seeing as he is ready to go to the labs before embarking on his adventure with Kiri. You quickly clap to grab his attention, he turns to the noise - once he saw you he could only sigh, especially with Tuk trailing behind you. You gave him a head tilt with a knowing look, he could only roll his eyes knowing what this was about.
“Tuk what did I tell you about telling y/n?”
Tuk stuck her tongue out to Lo’ak hoping it would offend him. He scrunched his nose at her giving a disgruntled look. You walked in front of him, giving him a flick on his forehead and making sharp gestures after. “Are you trying to go exploring again? You know how father reacts when you do things like this especially sa’nok when you bring Spider with you”
He gave you a deadpanned look since his conversation happens every time he tries to go out and explore. “How come you don’t tell Kiri this?” feeling a little insulted (sarcastically) when you only talked to him about this. “Kiri knows her limits unlike your skxawng ass”
He could only make a mocking face with his mouth imitating your words. You rolled your eyes at him now. You turn to Kiri hoping that they’ll be safe. “Are you guys going to stay in the areas we are allowed to and not go to the prohibited areas?” Kiri gives a curt nod “I’ll try to, you know how Lo’ak gets' ' Before she finished her sentence an idea popped into her mind. “Why don’t you come with us for once?!” You only sigh. “Sempu and Sa’nok would not like that you know, I think you forgot about my rules that they’ve set for me”
Lo’ak watching the interaction between you two made him throw his hands in the air in exasperation. “Eywa, just come with us for once and not be a stick in the mud Tsmuke” You gave him an irritated look when he signed “stick in the mud” but he wasn’t wrong.
Tuk suddenly jumped up from her spot just now forming what they had said.
“Lo’ak pleeaasse convince y/n to come with us, that way she won’t have to worry about me”
He only groaned just wanting to leave now. “Just come with us y/n, just this one time before Tuk keeps complaining?” You gave him an unsure look knowing how your parents would react to you being out of the safety zones of the village. But you thought, only one time couldn’t hurt what’s the worst that could happen, right? Finally you gave in, Lo’ak content and Tuk cheering. You all walk off towards the lab to grab Spider - your relationship with Spider isn’t very existent since you don’t see him very often.
As you enter the lab, Lo’ak and Kiri go their own way as you head towards Norm and Max. Giving a quick hello to them, you walk closer to them curious on what they’re working on. Taking a closer look, you gave Norm a knowing glance, he had been working on a hearing aid equipped for Na’vi ears. You tap his shoulder “Uncle Norm, I have told you already that you do not need to do this for me. I feel bad that you are taking your time on just this.” Norm turns to you with a bleak look on his face. “Don’t feel bad, I want this for you, I want you to be able to experience what we hear in your beautiful home plus you are my niece, of course I would do this for you.”
Just before you could respond back, Tuk drags you away to the entrance doors. Waving Norm bye before Tuk could drag you any further. Going out you see the three of them waiting for you and Tuk. “Hello Spider” he gave you a small smile before signing "Hi” back. He didn’t mind you either, although he didn’t know much about you it seemed as though you didn’t judge him for what he is and he appreciated it. All of you were now venturing off into the dense forest. You follow closely behind Kiri as you weren’t as familiar to the paths like the rest. You snap your fingers to grab Lo’aks attention once more, “Where are we even going?” Giving you a mischievous grin he said “A surprise” which could only mean bad things knowing how he is.
Continuing to walk through the plants for a couple more minutes before Lo’ak made everyone stop. You bump into Kiri’s back giving her a questioning stare, she gestured you to crouch down to the ground. You weren’t as to why, you turned to see what Lo’ak was doing, making us stop suddenly. He was looking in a certain direction, you followed his gaze just to fall on an old abandoned shack. Oh no, the shack we’re not allowed to come to. You waddled over to Lo’ak giving him a slap on his back. “Are you crazy?” You made hurried movements with your hands to show that you were annoyed with him. “This area is prohibited to all of us”
He gave you an annoyed glance before talking with Spider. You threw your head back while plopping down onto the dirt below you. You signed to Kiri that this was a dumb idea. She could only agree. Just before you guys decided to leave, your brother found tracks in the mud. They were fairly large considering that it was a boot mark. “You don’t think it is uniltìrantokx do you?” Giving them a worried look while pulling Tuk closer to your body. Their ears folded down seeing as it may be the only thing that made those marks. Lo’ak quickly communicated to our father about our findings.
He gestured to all of us to go quickly and quietly back to the village. “Lo’ak is it Skypeople?”
He nods briefly, you felt upset at yourself for allowing this to happen. You hold Tuk and Kiris hands as you try to navigate back home. Abruptly Tuk was stolen out of your grasp by a dreamwalker. You tried reaching out to her desperately wanting to pull her back before another dreamwalker pulled you by your kuru. You let out a strangled noise, panic coursing through your body from the sudden shock. They kicked your legs to make you kneel, you see they rest being captured the same being done to them.
You watch as they start talking, not understanding a word coming from their mouths. Lo’ak talking as well and making a vulgar gesture to the uniltìrantokx. You couldn’t focus well, your breathing uneven, pupils shrinking in fear.
“Hey shut that girl up, her breathing is too loud for me to hear this boy”
“Got it colonel”
Someone grabbed your cheeks harshly making you look at them. They were spewing words out as if they were yelling. You panic more seeing that they were angry with you, not being able to respond. You close your eyes, shaking your head vigorously.
“LET HER GO YOU ASSHOLES, SHE’S DEAF SHE CAN’T UNDERSTAND YOU”
The grip on your face loosened, your panicked state still present. Your eyes shift to Lo’ak as he gestured to you to calm down. You tried to slow your breathing down as you continued to witness the interactions between your siblings and the dreamwalkers. As time passed it grew dark, waiting for your family to come help you all. You glance over to Tuk making sure she was okay, her ears suddenly perked. Watching as the rest of them seem alerted by something.
It was a blur really, you were on the ground, next thing you knew an arrow shot across hitting one of the avatars. Guns started shooting near you, the one time you were glad not to hear those scary machines. Not knowing what to do, Lo’ak ran to grab you off the ground. Finally reaching the dense trees and bushes for cover, he asked if you were okay. “I’m okay, are you alright though?” He gave you a small nod. Only a minute later everyone else had found the two of you. Relief washes over Jake and Neytiri's faces seeing everyone was unscathed.
It seemed as though they had gotten rid of all the uniltìrantokx. Your mother came to you with a worried look pulling you into a quick embrace before pulling back to give a stern face. “You were not allowed to be here, you were to stay in the village” You could only give her a downcasted face as you were in the wrong. Neytiri sighs knowing how hard this must’ve been on you. Giving you one more quick hug before following everyone else back home.
_
Raids continued for another week until the tawtute eventually left Pandora once more. Unfortunately, your father wanted to leave for both our and the clan's safety. It was like another nightmare, the only home you knew was now being left behind. You weren’t as upset compared to your siblings but it still hurt knowing that you had to leave everything behind.
Jake stepped down from the role of Olo’eyktan with a solemn look. Everyone slowly mounted their Ikrans preparing to take off. There wasn’t much to take with you unlike Tuk and her toys and trinkets. She was always able to lift the mood somehow. You put the rest of her things on your Ikran before seating yourself on Flefle. Your father had given a signal to finally take off, taking one last look at the people and the forest. You thought about many things while flying during the long hours. How will I nag Norm now? Will the reef people accept a Na’vi like you? Would you be outcasted? How will you be able to feel vibrations on sand or water? It has troubled you greatly not knowing if you will be able to feel vibrations.
After a couple more more hours you start to watch as the dark blue slowly turns into beautiful crystalline water. You admire the colourful coral decorating the reef before spotting Na’vi with a much lighter skin tone. You follow your father and the rest on to a small clearing on the sand to land. As you land, Na’vi starts to slowly surround your family with curious and questioning gazes. Jumping off your Ikran, you walk closer to Neteyam grabbing his arm. Two boys emerged from the crowd looking at your family. They walk around to the back studying your bodies.
You felt a lingering stare coming from behind. You look over your shoulder to catch the taller boy studying you the most. He realised you had caught him and averted his gaze to his friend beside him. He started talking but you couldn’t make out what they were saying. You turn to Neteyam asking what they were talking about, he told you not to worry too much about it. Giving him an unsure look you look back to your parents conversing with two other Na’vi. The Tsahik swiftly made her way towards you, she circled you and grabbed your tail while having an unimpressed look. You took your tail out of her grasp giving her a furrowed glance. She only looked at you with a squinted look before heading towards Lo’ak.
First impressions weren’t exactly the best, especially with your reaction. They had accepted your request of Uturu much to their dismay. Their daughter Tsireya, as Lo’ak told you, guided you all to your Mauri. You made them go ahead as you still needed to grab the last items from your Ikran. You wondered what Tuk had packed as it was heavy. Tossing things over your shoulder and carrying another on your back, you started to walk to catch up to your family. The boy from earlier saw you struggle, he tried calling you but no reply. Is she ignoring me on purpose? He gave up, annoyed with you not responding to him. Back with you, you finally caught up with your siblings. Settling into the Mauri you observe your brothers and sisters jumping into the water. You turn to your parents with doe eyes, wanting to join your siblings. They give each other a glance.
“Should we let her? I think it is safe enough in the reef to let her go, right?”
Neytiri took his words and contemplated whether to let you go or not. She did not want you getting hurt while wandering off but she also wanted to grant you freedom. She looked to where you were standing still waiting on their answer, she gave you a small smile.
“You may join them”
You gave her a toothy smile before joining your brothers and sisters. At the edge of the dock, you stare at the water, enamoured by its beauty. Lo’ak swam to you, “Are you allowed to come?” Smiling at him you nod. A small distance away, Tsireya asked Neteyam a question that she had in her mind since you guys got here.
“How do you all know sign language so well?”
Neteyam spun to face her, his mouth shaped as an O forgetting that they do not know about y/n.
“Our sister cannot hear you see, so we all learned sign language together to be able to talk with each other”
Her eyes widened with the fact that you were deaf but also impressed with their language skills. Of course Ao’nung could not hear Neteyam talk about you, too busy with daydreaming while waiting for everyone to join.
You dip your feet into the warm water before slowly emerging the rest of your body into the ocean. The water was soothing, helping with the aching muscles you had. You follow Lo’ak to join the others. As everyone emerged into the ocean, it was like a whole new world beneath the surface. You wandered off on our own just like Kiri, you admired every little detail of the coral and other aquatic plants surrounding you. Small unique looking fish started to swim around you. A look of amazement graced your features from the colourful fish and their behaviour. Eyes following their movement before they swam away.
It seemed as though your brothers could not hold their breaths for much longer. They all surfaced not seeing me or Kiri with them. Ao’nung ducked back into the water, he saw you far from the group swimming by yourself. He couldn’t help but see a breathtaking scene before him. You spun around to see where the others were, instead you met the boy's eyes. Feeling a little flustered you sent him a small wave, but all he returned was nothing while he went back up to the surface. Ears folding down, you felt a little dejected from the actions but focused back on the different world around you.
_
You had gotten out of the water much sooner than the others. A cut was on your arm from the corals being too immersed with your surroundings. Heading to the healing Mauri, you took quiet steps to the entrance, knocking on the side to grab the Tsahik’s attention. She looked up seeing you with blood running down your arm. Waving you over to sit, you were quick to sign an apology. Ronal looked at you with an odd expression. “You know sign?” Giving a curt nod, “I was born with tìkakpam” Eyes widening for a second before coming closer to you to inspect your cut. Placing a paste of mixed plants and herbs onto your arm before wrapping it with leaves. “Do not get this wet until the cut has been sealed” You smile “Irayo” You stood up to leave until you felt a hold on your hand, it was the Tsahik. Ronal had some remorse towards the girl despite their differences. “How would you feel about teaching the young children sign language? I heard from your mother that you did some teaching but I did not know what it was until now.”
You felt the tight feeling in your chest loosen a tiny bit. “I would love to.” To your surprise the Tsahik gave you a smile who was now shooing you off to continue your exploring. You felt a bit down due to not being able to swim for the time being but you shook the feeling off, striding to the shore. You slowly walk while water rises to tickle your feet, from a distance you see the same boy from earlier throwing spears into the sand. You walk towards him, you grab a stick from the sand and gently tap the tree near you. Ao’nung was slightly startled, missing his target. He turned to prepare to cuss someone out but immediately stopped as his eyes landed on you.
Eyes curving into a moon shape as you smiled and waved at him. There was a slight flutter in his chest seeing you. He wasn’t sure why he was feeling this way, he barely knew you.
“What are you doing here?”
You squint at his moving mouth, you picked up on what he said. “I was just walking until I stumbled upon you throwing the spears” He tilted his head, not understanding why you were using that language. Seeing his confused face, you completely forgot that he must’ve not heard about you. You quickly sign once more “oh sorry, I don't know if anyone told you but I am deaf” You gave him a gummy smile, he felt a bit guilty not knowing especially when he had tried calling out to you a few times. He walked closer to you, “I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself properly yet, I am Ao’nung” You look up to meet his gaze, he was quite tall for his age. “Nice to meet you Ao’nung, My name is y/n.” Y/n? A pretty name. He had thought.
You spent the rest of your time with Ao’nung. He’s shown you most of the island and told you about some traditions they do. You guys compare your traditions, competing with which is better. Some small banter here and there. Walking along the docks you spot these adorable creatures in the water. “What kind of creatures are those?” Your eyes glimmered in admiration. A small chuckle escaped Ao’nung’s lips, “These are called Ilu, very kind creatures they are.” Smile widening, you look into his eyes asking if it was okay to touch them just with your face. To him, you looked like an overexcited child receiving their first spear, he could only grin at the sight. He gave you the go ahead with a small nod. The Ilu swam up closer to the dock as you crouched down and reached your hand out.
It felt much more different from what you expected. The Ilu were very smooth and slippery, slightly rubbery. Your tail swinging back and forth, you look back up to Ao’nung with a determined face. “Can you teach me to ride one?”  He gave you a surprised look, “Well I planned on teaching you all the next morning…”  You stood swiftly grabbing both his hands, your face full of eagerness. He couldn’t resist and gave in. “Fine, but you better show off how good of a teacher I am tomorrow when I teach your siblings” You throw your hands up, victorious in convincing him. Immediately your mood dampened, you looked down to your arm, ah the cut. “Sorry Ao’nung, It seems that I’ve forgotten about my injury. I cannot get it wet.” Your face is apologetic.
Studying his face, he appeared a little disappointed. “It’s alright, once your arm is healed up I will teach you then.” Giving you a gentle smile. Alas, someone saw the scene, that person being Tsireya. She was ecstatic seeing her brother having a soft spot for you. Tsireya then saw you guys part ways for the day, just as you went out of view she ran up to her brother with the widest grin.
“You like her don’t you!?”
He was stunned by the sudden appearance of his younger sister. Heat filled his cheeks swatting his sister away.
“W-what are you talking about? Me, liking her? That is nonsense.”
Tsireya put her hand on her hip giving him the most unbelieving look she could give him.
“Your cheeks say otherwise brother”
“Bah, this is none of your business anyways. Plus I could say the same when you were looking at the forest boy”
A smug expression replacing his flustered one. Tsireya now he one who is flustered from the sudden mention of the one brother. She smacked his arm as hard as she could.
“OW, you did not have to hit me that hard women”
She could only roll her eyes. They both head on back to their Mauri constantly bickering along the way.
_
The felt someone shaking you gently, you awaken rubbing your eyes and letting out a long yawn. You turn to see who woke you, your mother. She ushered you over to eat,  you took a seat beside Tuk who was munching away. You ruffle her braids while signing good morning. Neytiri gently tapped the floor grabbing your attention, feeling the small vibrations you lift your head. Your mother signed about the talk you had with Ronal. “I heard that you are to teach the young ones sign?” You give her a soft smile, “Yes, the Tsahik assigned me to be a teacher after hearing that I was a teacher back home. I am quite excited” Neytiri huffed out air in content seeing her daughter settling well to the changes. “I hope you are ready then, the Tsahik told me to tell you to meet her at her Mauri today after you finish eating” Nodding, your attention back on eating thrilled for today’s events.
You wave your mother off as you head to the Mauri with a little skip to your walk. Finally reaching your destination, you see the Tsahik patiently waiting for your arrival. As you greet her, Ronal’s face softens from her usual hardened look. “Are you ready for your first day?” You nod energetically, excited to see what it was like to teach metkayina children. Both of you reach a small secluded area, just before you could take another step you spot a boy about your age waiting there. “This is Fänau, he will help you with the young as they are only beginners, he will translate for them.” You open your mouth in understanding. “The parents should come in a few minutes to drop their children off, have fun” Giving you one last smile she waves you off.
You walk to Fänau wanting to introduce yourself and get to know him a bit better before lessons start. “Hello, my name is y/n I hope we can work well together” You give him a kind smile. “I am Fänau as Tsahik mentioned, I am excited to work with you.”
_
Ao’nung was doing his morning chores. As he was carrying some baskets before he spotted his mother and you walking together. Suspicious, he followed behind them to see what they were doing. They stopped in a small area, he squinted his eyes to see what his mother was saying. First day? For what? Then he spotted Fänau, watching you two interact made him feel irritated. His mood was now spoiled, walking away with tight fists.
_
The first lesson was amazing, the children were amazing despite only knowing a few basic signs. You were radiating happiness as you passed a few members of the clan, you couldn't even be bothered by the stares you were getting. Walking to the shore, you remembered that your siblings were learning to ride Ilus today. Increasing your speed you finally spot them in the water getting ready to ride. You crouch to sit and watch them learn since your cut hasn’t fully healed yet.
Neteyam noticed your figure from a distance, he waves nice and high. Seeing you wave back made him chuckle. Ao’nung took a glimpse of you, you really were pretty in the sun. He felt a nudge in his side, turning just to see Lo’ak giving him a death stare.
“Stop ogling my sister fish lips”
“Who said I was looking at your sister?”
He looked away immediately trying to shield faint blush. Lo’ak gave him a dirty look not believing what he’s seeing right now. He slowly walks to Tsireya still giving Ao’nung a warning look. You continue to watch your siblings learn, chuckling to yourself as you saw Lo’ak fall off his Ilu. But your gaze trailed to Ao’nung who was also laughing, who knew one could look nice when they are laughing like that. Waving your hands frantically trying to wave those thoughts away. You must’ve thought you were crazy for thinking that way.
As they finish up their lessons, Kiri makes her way to you with a content smile. “The ocean is so beautiful” You smile agreeing with Kiri, the only thing missing is hearing the water and waves. How you wish you could hear it. Everyone had dispersed doing their own things, except you and Kiri. You stayed where you guys were, admiring the nature around you while Kiri was admiring the sand in the water. You caught a glimpse of figures moving from the corner of your eye. It was Ao’nung and a few other boys talking to Kiri. Your head tilted to the side wondering what they needed Kiri for. Brows furrowing see the discomfort on your sister's face. Standing from the sand, you walk over and grab Kiri’s hand and look towards Ao’nung. “Is there something you need from Kiri?”  Ao’nung faltered seeing you appear beside Kiri.
Instead of him signing to you he talks once more to Kiri. You catch the word freak coming from his mouth. You give him a hurt expression, you press your hand against his chest to put space between him and your sister. Just before you could say anything else Lo’ak comes onto the scene taking your hand away from Ao’nung. Neteyam then came along to relieve the tension between the two boys. Only a second later, literally a second, a fight broke out. While Kiri was laughing, you had a horrified expression on your face. You walk up to Ao’nung pulling on his tail to get him off your brother. In a blink of an eye, you felt pressure against your check making you fall back.
Everyone froze in place. First person to move was Kiri helping you off the ground asking if you were okay. You didn’t reply, you only looked at Ao’nung with a crestfallen look taking over your features. Before more punches could break out, your fathers came to the scene quickly pulling everyone apart. Ao’nung tried reaching out to you before being pulled away by his father. Your father left you with Ronal to help the bruise that is forming on your cheek. “Thank you for the paste Tsahik '' She shook her head, “You do not need to thank me, I swear to eywa if my son does something like this again so help me” You chuckle quietly seeing Ronal worked up over her son. “Also there is no need to call me Tsahik, just call me Ronal '' Her face is gentle as she continues to rub paste on your cheek. You were beaming now being on a first name basis with the Tsahik.
_
As the sun sets and the moon rises, you carefully take off the leaves surrounding your arm. The cut was finally sealed up, a smile graced your features knowing you can go into the water once more. The smile faded watching your brothers and sisters come into the Mauri with both annoyed and upset looks. “What is wrong? Did something happen again?” Neteyam could only sigh, “Ao’nung took Lo’ak outside the reef and basically left him for dead” Your expression etched into anger, not knowing why Ao’nung would do this. Kiri looked a little surprised as it was rare for you to get mad.
Standing up with anger radiating off your body, you stride towards Ao’nungs Mauri tail whipping around in frustration. Reaching the entrance you give the Olo’eyktan and Ronal a quick greeting. You didn’t meet the eyes of Ao’nung as you signed to Ronal. “I'm sorry to disturb you Ronal, but may I talk to your son” She took in your stiff posture and expression, the corner of her mouth perking up a little before giving you a brief nod. She found it quite amusing that her son was about to earn another lecture from someone else, especially from you.
Ao’nung hesitated with following you out, not ready for what you have to say. Finding a small spot on the sand you finally turn to meet his nervous gaze. Your stern face changed to sorrow. “Why?” He knew exactly what you were talking about but like a skxawng he played dumb. “What do you mean?” Frustration growing once more, you punch his chest. “You first called us freaks and then left my brother to die outside the reef” Your gestures were sharp and quick showing your bitterness. He only looked down knowing what he did was extremely wrong. You huff air from your nose in disbelief, you thought he was nice but you thought wrong. You made him look at you once more. “Not only that, if my siblings are freaks, then what am I? I have the same features of those tawtute and I cannot hear. Does that make me a monstrosity compared to everyone else?”
Not once did Ao’nung feel that way. You were one of the most gorgeous Na’vi he’s ever seen. He wished he could say those to you but he was still silent. Tears well up in your eyes, your head hung low. “To think that one person wouldn’t judge me apart from my family. I really thought we could’ve been friends Ao’nung maybe even a little bit more than that” Again silence, you took it as a sign that Ao’nung wouldn’t change. Ao’nung was frozen in place, not being able to comprehend what you signed. You wanted something more? Just as he lifted his head to look at you, your body was already walking away from his figure. He wanted to reach out, he really did, but he stayed in place not wanting to make matters worse.
You make it back to the Mauri and sit right beside your mom. Head leaning into her side, tears now falling freely accompanied with small sniffles. Neytiri wanted to ask what had happened but thought it was best to comfort her daughter with her warm touch. She brought you closer into her body as you continued to cry quietly. Neytiri started to hum your waytelem hoping you could feel the vibrations from her chest. The soft murmurs from your mothers body calmed you, you felt your body slowly falling into slumber. In time you fall asleep completely, Neytiri picks up your small figure and puts you onto your mat and gently drapes a thin cover over you.
Jake looked at Neytiri with a concerned look. They knew that moving somewhere away from the forest would come with difficulties. It was a small given that the children would be seen differently due to their different appearances. He contacted Norm and asked about his little project for you. His throat felt parched hearing that Norm had almost figured it out. Norm mentioned that in another week or two it could be ready for use. Jake sighed in relief, you would finally be able to experience the sounds of their stunning world. Looking over to your peaceful frame, he could only worry because you were his first daughter and he knows how much you’ve been through.
_
Days have passed, you’ve gone everyday to teach the children along with your new friend Fänau. You have also been ignoring Ao’nung because you weren’t ready to face him. Ever since that day, you haven’t really given yourself the time to learn how to ride and explore more of the ocean. Fänau was walking by your side after finishing the lesson for today. You turn to him with a cheeky smile, “Have you gotten the chance to talk with Zoprrì?” giving him a small nudge with your hip. His face flushed with purple and gave you a small smack on your arm. “Do not tease me. I tried but I fumbled over my words and ran” Fänau buried his face in his hands in embarrassment. You bring your hand up to his shoulder for comfort. “You still have lots of time, he will definitely see how awesome you are Fänau” You give him your widest smile with a small thumbs up. He could only release a small laugh at your silly gestures.
It was his turn to give you a teasing smile. “How’s Ao’nung?” You give him a deadpan expression. “You know damn well how he is, I did not rant to you two days ago just for you to ask that dumb question” He chuckled, “He is like a lovesick puppy, he keeps trying to find you” You roll your eyes as you cross your arms, then releasing with sharp movements. “Lovesick? Lovesick my ass, if he really did then he would not have called us freaks' ' Fänau found it amusing when you started ranting, but he knows that you would not budge from the idea of avoiding Ao’nung. “He is going to keep trying to talk to you until you finally give in” Eyes squinting at him, you slowly sign “I won’t give in, watch me” He pursed his lips then released a long sigh. “You will, I know you are still upset with him but you will have to talk with him eventually especially when you live here now” Your ears face down, he was right but Ao’nung did not deserve your friendship right now. Both of you continue to walk discussing random topics.
Ao’nung once again had gone in search of you. He desperately wanted to apologise, he did not want to lose you. He searched throughout the village but you made no appearance. Realisation took over his features that you must’ve been teaching right now during this time. Walking to the area, he thought of many ways to somehow start the conversation once he finally has the chance. Just on time, the lesson had just finished but he paused his movements. He saw you walk away with Fänau. Twinge of jealousy pricks his heart seeing the two side by side. Instead of walking away, he followed the two of you making sure not to make a sound. He was too far to see what you were discussing with him, he moved in closer hiding behind the trees. He read your movements and got to the part where you mentioned him calling you freaks. Guilt washed over his body, it was his fault for saying those foul things.
He studied your expression, it was full of annoyance and a tinge of sadness. Ao’nung did not want you to feel upset with him. An idea popped into his head, gifts. Remembering that his sister was skilled in making accessories. Leaving the scene, he ran with determination towards his family Mauri. Today was an off day for them, entering the Mauri he spots his sister already working on some small trinkets and bracelets.
“Tsireya?”
She looked up from her work seeing her brother standing awfully awkwardly.
“Did you need something Ao’nung?”
He wasn’t sure why he was feeling shy for asking a small favour from his younger sister. Fiddling with his fingers he opened his mouth just to close it again. He felt frustrated with himself for not being able to get the words out. He let out a groan, looking straight at Tsireya once more before he blurted out.
“Can you help me make stuff for Y/n…”
Her eyes were blown wide before she beamed with delight. Scrambling up to stand, she ran up to her brother pulling him towards her working area. Tsireya pushed down on his shoulders forcing him to sit, but did it a bit too hard making him fall hard on his butt. He let out a small yelp, giving his sister a stunned look. Letting out a small sorry before she sat next to him with a look of curiosity.  
“What exactly did you want to make for her? A charm? Bracelet? A beautiful top? Hair decor? Cute trinkets?”
He cut her off by smacking his hand on her mouth to stop her from rambling. She was getting too excited for his liking. Pinching his nose bridge he came up with an idea.
“I was hoping to give her a variety of things until she finally lets me talk to her. I thought we would start with an accessory for her ears seeing she has a hole in her ear”
Tisreya looked at her brother full of admiration. She was grateful that you were able to change Ao’nungs foul behaviour. She shuffled closer to Ao’nung showing him a variety of pieces that they could use to start this earring. He knew that you usually wore feathers but they didn’t really have those. Some scales caught his eye, they were shiny and in the light they reflected with a beautiful orange and yellow colour.
“Do you think I could mend these together and shape it?”
He picked the scales up showing them to Tsireya. She squinted her eyes while staring at the scales in thought. A solid nod, he exhaled not knowing he was holding his breath for her approval. Hours went by as Ao’nung was a bit difficult to teach especially when snarky remarks were being tossed back and forth. Tsireya constantly smacks his hand when he does something wrong after being told repeatedly not to do that. Or he groans in frustration while dropping the earring flopping backwards onto his back. Tsireya could only give him apathetic looks. Through all of that they finally finish the set of earrings made for you. They both release a sigh of content before falling back at the same time.
“You plan to do this how often Ao’nung?”
“...every night”
She sits up so quickly, almost giving herself whiplash. Looking at Ao’nung with a gaping mouth and furrowed look.
“AND YOU SAID YOU DIDN’T LIKE HER”
“WHAT DOES MAKING STUFF FOR HER MAKE YOU THINK I LIKE HER?”
Tsireya looked at him like he was crazy. She threw her hands up in exasperation while huffing out.
“HAH, YOU’RE BASICALLY COURTING HER YOU SKXAWNG”
He choked on his words, courting? He gave his sister a flabbergasted expression.
“I’m leaving, I can't stand this conversation anymore. I need to go drop the earrings off”
Tsireya mocked him as he walked away heading towards your family's Mauri. As he’s walking, he looks down to the earrings in his hands. Thoughts run through his mind, Will she like them? Will she throw it away? Will she wear it? Distracted by his thoughts he didn’t realise that he had reached the Mauri. He started fidgeting with his creation worried that you may be there. Just before he took another step, Neteyam had stepped out of the Mauri. He turned his head, catching Ao’nung in his line of vision. His once relaxed face turned stiff. Ao’nung grew nervous seeing your brother walk slowly towards him.
“What are you doing here Ao’nung”
His voice is firm and demanding.
“I was uh, was wondering if I could give this to y/n?”
He held out his hand to reveal the delicate handcraft. Neteyam looked puzzled, not understanding why. He could see some flaws in his craft as he tried to shape it into a feather look and the weaving looked a little messy. He gently took the earrings from Ao’nungs hand making sure to handle it carefully. Ao’nung shoulders dropped in relief that Neteyam accepted his request.
“I cannot assure you that she will forgive you with this”
Ao’nungs expression grew grim.
“I know, but I will keep trying”
Neteyam looked at him with a pleased face. He was glad that someone was willing to try for you. Many men in their past clan didn’t make many advances towards you due to your deafness. Seeing that there was someone here making an effort provided him some peace. He bids Ao’nung off, entering the Mauri he trudged to your hunched over figure. He taps his foot beside you, catching your attention. “A certain boy came by '' Your ears pointed down, turning away from him, focusing back on your basket weaving. He sighed, he went and sat in front of you. “You know you cannot avoid him forever. I know he said some upsetting things but all of us have now become a bit acquainted for the most part” You stop your moving hands, lifting your head to meet his stare. “Yes you guys have but not me. I am not ready to face him yet.” Neteyam pursed his lips, he took one of your hands and placed the earrings gently in your palm. “He came by to give you these, you can tell he made them” You bring your hands closer to your body, studying the accessory. The beautiful colours resembled your actual feathered earrings except these were shiny and reflective. You noticed the small cravings on the side trying to resemble the feather details. Your lips curled into a faint smile.
Neteyam noticed and smiled, he gave you a small ruffle on your head before heading out once more. As he left, you got up from your spot and walked over to your space. You had a small trinket box where you stashed away your things. Carefully placing the earrings into the box, you look at it once more before closing. You pondered why he had given you a set of earrings. Continuing your basket weaving, you stayed in thought about the different possibilities on why until the sky grew dark.
_
As a few more days passed, everyday Neteyam or Lo’ak would give you something made by Ao’nung much to Lo’aks dismay. Each item was beautifully made even though there are some small mistakes you can spot out. The other day, Neteyam had brought in a delicate top covered in intricate designs. Tsireya definitely helped him with that. Your mother had told you that there was a big celebration tonight and wanted you to join. She knew you weren’t big on these types of things but thought it would be nice for you to join in one every once in a while.
The celebration was nearing, you thought long and hard about what you should wear. You look towards the collection of accessories that Ao’nung gifted you. You missed Ao’nung, but you were scared to approach him. You took this chance to wear everything he made for you as a sign of forgiveness. Putting on the bracelets, the earrings, neck pieces, and the beautiful top. Lo’ak had walked in to grab something but saw you wearing Ao’nungs “ugly” creations. He gave you a furrowed look with his eyes peering at you. “You’re really gonna wear his things?” He saw you give him a brief nod. He could only sigh, “If he tries anything tonight don’t hesitate to grab me okay?” Smiling, you gave him another nod for reassurance.
Heading to the main gathering area, you feel deep vibrations under your feet as you come closer to the celebration. You see bright lights from the fires illuminating the entire ground accompanied by the shining moon. You move your head to see your father talking to somebody, they turned their head a bit and you realised that it was Norm. You missed him dearly, you carefully snuck up behind him before jumping on his back. You felt his body jolt, he turned to see your extremely happy face. He gave you a tight embrace before pulling away. Your face changed from happy to confused. “How come you are here uncle?” Seeing those words he gave you a toothy smile. “I finally figured out the hearing aid situation” Eyes widening with tears slowly forming on your bottom lashes. “This isn’t a joke is it?” He gave you another smile while shaking his head. You jumped into his arms once more as tears were finally released from your eyes.
“Do you want to test them right now, see if you can hear the music?” You nod vigorously as you wipe your tears away. Norm carefully picked up the wooden box and opened them to reveal the small hearing aids. He gently placed them into your ears adjusting the sizing to fit. Putting on the lowest level of volume, he turns them on. You weren’t sure how to react, emotions were everywhere. Ears twitching to the small sounds around you, the people chatting, the crackling of the fire, the booming music. Tears welled in your eyes once more, you turned to Norm, ramming into him giving him another hug as your cry in his chest.
“How do you feel kiddo?”
Your eyes widened at his voice, “I can hear you, I can actually hear you” He chuckled lightly as tears threatened his vision as well. You quickly turn to your father, you run to him and grab his arms. “Sempu try talking”
“Nga yawne lu oer Ma’ite”
His voice sounded more fatherly than you thought it was. Deep voice with raspy undertones. You lean into his body, overwhelmed with joy. You grab the rest of your siblings and your mother to hear all their voices. As a family you shared your tears of happiness, you finally felt normal.
Ao’nung and Tsireya arrived late due to Ao’nung worrying too much about his appearance and Tsireya constantly reassured him that he looked fine. As they joined the clan they head towards their parents first notifying their presence. He noticed his mother with a smile on her face while looking in a certain direction. He followed her gaze stopping on you, you were dancing with your younger sister Tuk. His eyes open like saucers seeing you decorated with all his creations. Purple hues appear on his cheeks and ears as he continues watching you dance with such positive energy radiating from you. Tsireya smirked, elbowing his ribs.
“Go. Ask her to dance with you”
He swallows his saliva in nervousness. He couldn’t take his eyes off you.
“Do you think she’ll say yes?”
Tsireya laughs lightly.
“I’m sure she will, plus she’s wearing all your things”
Ao’nung begins walking towards your dancing frame. His cheeks still warm as he watches you dance with such grace and freedom. As he got closer, you noticed him coming to you. You stopped dancing and signed to Tuk to go to Kiri. Once he was standing right in front of you he couldn’t muster a single word. You watched as he stood silent, you were hoping he would say something but nothing came out. A small pang of disappointment filled your chest. You turn to walk away until his hand grabs your arm. You move your head slightly just to see him out of the corner of your eye. “Would you like to dance with me?” Eyes widening from the question. You give him a shy nod trying to avoid his gaze. He guided you near the centre, softly grabbing your other hand. You felt weird being in the middle of everything, you kind of wish you were back dancing on the sidelines.
Ao’nung sensed your slight discomfort, so he decided to dance first. He did a couple moves here and there, a few being a little silly to make you more comfortable. You finally are confident enough to start dancing as well. You moved swiftly and rhythmically to the beat. Ao’nungs movement falters, watching you fall into the music once more. He was slightly confused not knowing how you knew the rhythm so easily. But he forgot about it immediately as you grabbed his hand pulling him closer to you.
From afar both pairs of parents watch as their children enjoy their night. Neytiri settled beside Ronal while watching her son and her own daughter dance together. “They seem good,” Ronal smiled, agreeing with Neytiri.
“Your daughter is a very bright girl despite the difficulties she faces”
Neytiri watched you with a gentle expression.
“She is isn’t she”
An idea surfaced in Ronals mind, she was sure it would stun Neytiri.
“How would you feel about me teaching her the ways of a healer? I know my daughter is the next Tsahik but I think it would be good if y/n learned about healing”
She whips her head to face Ronal with shock. Neytiri knew you weren’t much of a hunter or warrior so healing made sense.
“You would do that for her?”
Ronal nods.
“Anything for a future daughter”
Ronal hid her laughter seeing Neytiris reaction. Both mothers had become close over the couple weeks. The celebration had slowed down, everyone settling into chatting amongst themselves while their children ran around. Few decide to eat niktsyey as well and enjoy their drinks. You and Ao’nung decided to settle down as well, sitting with the rest of the chaotic group. Ao’nung sat close to you but without Lo’ak giving him the dirty eye. He shifted a tiny bit closer to you just to get on Lo’aks nerves. As for you, you were fidgeting with your fingers while watching the children play with each other. A small group of children you recognised as some of your students. They pulled your arms wanting you to play with them. You sign to Ao’nung quickly saying you’d be back before getting dragged away by the kids.
He watches you as you run around with the children chasing you and one on your back. Ao’nung felt as if he was on cloud nine just observing you getting along with the kids so well. He knew you would make a great mother someday. Rotxo nudged him teasingly.
“You definitely like her, can’t deny it now”
He swats Rotxos hand away, giving him a small hum. Not once has he taken his eyes off you, you looked amazing in his crafts and he felt proud. Lo’ak had thrown a pebble at his head but he didn’t even notice, too entranced with his sister. You finally wave to the children off before sitting beside Ao’nung once more. The rest of the night was filled with talking and laughter especially because of Lo’aks and Ao’nungs bickering with each other. You haven’t told Ao’nung about your new hearing aids, wanting to wait to be alone to finally have an actual conversation with each other. But throughout the night you kept increasing the volume as you get used to the sounds. You heard what Ao’nung sounded like but not clearly due to the other chatter around you.
As everyone slowly starts to head back to their Mauris, you took Ao’nungs hand and guide him to the shoreline. He was a little confused but followed you anyway. As you reach the shore, gently bring him down to sit with you. You make your body face him, you look into his ocean eyes that are shining in the moonlight. “I forgive you” You watch as his eyes widen and a smile settles on his lips. “You do?” Giving him a gummy smile you nod briefly. His expression dropped just a little, “I’m sorry for saying those cruel things, and for not saying anything. I don’t think you’re a freak, you are unique and beautiful. I’m sorry for making fun of your siblings as well, the silent treatment was well deserved for me.” Grabbing his hand, you give him a look of compassion. “All is forgiven and forgotten okay? It is alright now” Giving him a wide grin you quickly sign, “Can you say my name with your actual voice?” Ao’nung gave you a puzzled expression but went along.
“Y/n?”
Your smile widened, eyes turning in crescent moon shapes. “You have a lovely voice” He blinked a few times not understanding how you heard him. Seeing him confused you exhale in amusement. You slowly remove the headpiece that was covering the hearing aids. You turn your head to the side to show him the small device. Ao’nung tilted his head still confused on what the device has to do with your hearing, especially when he doesn’t understand tawtute machinery. You chuckle at his expression, “My uncle made this device to help me hear, it took many long years to perfect for me. But I can finally hear everything… even you.” Ao’nung felt his cheeks and ears warm up from your comment from earlier about liking his voice. His tail wagging unintentionally behind him.
“No wonder you were dancing beautifully to the music”
This time your cheeks were set aflame hearing his gentle voice and compliment. You buried your face in the palms of your hands feeling embarrassed. As you try to avoid his gaze, he feels happy knowing he had an effect on you. He gently caresses your hands, bringing them down to his lap. Ao’nung gazes into your golden eyes that seem to light up in the dark. Studying your face, the glowing specks, your unique striping and your soft lips. Mustering up his courage, he slowly leans in, inching closer and closer to your face. Your eyes flutter closed anticipating the possible kiss. Feeling his hand on the side of your cheek, the soft touch of his lips finally connect with yours. The kiss was gentle yet passionate under the moonlight. The nervous feeling in your system vanished as the kiss lasted longer. Pulling away to catch your breaths, you look into each other’s eyes before breaking out into quiet laughter. Purple hues still visible on your cheeks.
Sitting together in silence, bodies facing the ocean with your tails entangled. Listening to the waves crashing against each other, and the animals chittering through the night. Head resting against his shoulder and his head resting on top of yours. You felt at peace slowly dozing off to the sounds of Ao’nungs breathing. Ao’nung peaked at your face, a small smile forming on his lips thinking, how did I get so lucky?
_
Years passed, you became an experienced healer assisting Tsireya with her continued Tsahik studies. As well as continuing teaching the small children sign. Ao’nung became a strong warrior, earning multiple markings. Not only that, you became mates. Ever since that night, both of you were inseparable. Ronal adored you, more than Ao’nung or so he said. Your brothers also become strong warriors within the clan. Lo’ak followed the Metkayinas ways as Neteyam continued the Omatikaya ways. Kiri and Tuk both joined the gathering groups although Tuk was training to be a warrior. Ao’nung was also able to finally give you those Ilu lessons which went wonderfully apart from distracting each other. As Fänau, he finally got together with Zoprrì. Both of you were still close friends, much to Ao’nungs disagreement. Everything was finally in place.
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ruskaroma · 1 year
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ordinary, corrupt human love. | chapter 1: written in blood.
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Warnings: this series will include highly disturbing/dark topics such as stalking, unhealthy obsession, graphic descriptions of violence, blood and gore, manipulation, gaslighting, large age gap, emotional/psychological abuse, dom/sub undertones, bad BDSM etiquette, etc.
this is a dark fic, written in john's pov and a glimpse of how his mind works. if you still continue to read and get triggered, that is not my responsibility.
Summary: John finds himself a new obsession.
Author's note: this is my first ever fanfic for this fandom and i am beyond excited to share this with you guys! though i must say before you begin, english is not my first language and there might be a few errors in my writing here and there, so i apologize in advance.
but either way, i still hope you enjoy this piece, and i can assure you that once i finish writing this series there will be more to come! i really enjoy writing john wick be a merciless bastard who kills everything that breathes, and i hope you enjoy it too as much as i did.
please, please, PLEASE tell me what you think in the comment and reblogs and likes would be so appreciated. it motivates me to write even more :)
(also this is not edited so all mistakes are on me and i apologize)
Word count: 8.1k
also read on ao3.
It’s one of those days again.
The sound of his watch ticking is the only thing keeping his car from being too quiet. His eyes watch every single movement of his target, never leaving his sight. It won’t be too long for John to finally strike, he just doesn’t want too many civilians seeing the horror that’s about to happen right before their very eyes.
His mind is thinking of many things he could do with this target in particular. A lowlife thug that got himself involved with a very dangerous Italian mob, but then again that’s not the reason why John’s murderous intent is at its peak at the moment.
He’s angry at something, he just doesn’t know what. And this target of his isn’t helping his situation at all. Reading his criminal record made John think this could be a chance to cure his boredom. This man is not only a sex trafficker, but also a pedophile who has a history of targeting teenagers to rape and sell to the black market that’s as fucked up as him.
He doesn’t normally take his time thinking of ways to kill his targets. He points, shoots, leaves. This one in particular though, got him facing a side of him that John himself doesn’t want to face.
He would start by breaking every single one of the man’s fingers. And if that doesn’t do any justice, he’ll cut them off.
One by one, let the man savor the feeling, let John relish the nightmare.
He could slit the man’s throat, watch as life drains away from his body, watch as the man clings to his legs for mercy. John could even pull out the man’s dick, step on it, fucking cut it off and shove it so far down his own throat that he couldn’t scream for help if he tried.
It’s John’s version of Colombian Necktie. A classic, only ever tried it out four times, hopefully this would be the fifth.
John is never the one to take pleasure in killing people, but these past few months have proved him otherwise.
Maybe it’s because of Helen’s death, and the way he was basically forced to sculpt the demons he buried back into himself. His only remaining bit of humanity was taken from him, and he’s coping in the most unhealthy way possible. Perhaps Winston was right about dipping his pinky a little too much into the pond, but it was inevitable.
John has gone back to his old ways. Taking contracts here and there to distract himself from the void in his heart. He remembers how burying a knife into someone’s throat for the first time in many years has ignited something in him he didn’t even know he had.
That’s why he’s here, exiting his car in a swift move, following his target as quietly as possible into a narrow alleyway that stinks of garbage in piss. This would be a nice place to kill a guy like him – right where he belongs.
John’s movements are so discreet the man couldn’t even sense him until John wrapped his right arm around his neck and his other hand went to cover the man’s mouth. He walks them both to the back of a building as the man struggles, where John’s sure no more people are present, and he kicks him on the jaw to stop the man from making any more noises.
John can make this quick. Pull out his gun and blow his brains out. But there’s that sinister glint in his mind that’s telling him to do something unimaginable – grotesque even – a death a man like him deserves.
The man tries to swing his arm at John but misses pathetically. The poor guy’s already shaking and John hasn’t even begun.
John doesn’t respond to the pitiful attempts of questioning who he is and who sent him here, he simply pulls his knife from his pocket and wastes no time slashing it against the man’s throat, the blood spraying all over his face. The man tries to stop it by shakily covering the deep cut with his hand, but it’s useless.
He’s gargling, choking on his own blood, and John’s watching it all unravel with a familiar glint in his eyes.
John is contemplating if he should follow the plan he made in his head or just leave it like this. Somehow, the sight looks rather incomplete to him. He knows what he’s done is not enough, but that could be just the rage talking. The man’s already dead, and surely cutting off his dick and shoving it so far down his throat it comes out of the wound would leave an ugly reputation on his name. 
Would that be a good thing? John is already feared enough, would it be a good thing to make people fear him even more? But then again, this won’t be the first time he’s done it. Doing it again one more time wouldn’t make any difference.
He glances down at the dead body on his feet before he kneels down to do the unforgivable.
Slicing off a man’s cock is easy. Too easy. John’s knife is perfectly sharpened and stoned, he merely uses any strength to cut it off. The sight is so fucking ugly, too much blood, but nothing he can’t handle.
Once that’s done, John uses his other hand to force the dead man’s jaw open, immediately greeted by the foul stench of blood as he shoves the unpleasant dick into the man’s open mouth. The genitalia is definitely not long enough to reach the throat, but that won’t be any problem for John.
He grits his teeth as he forces his hand in there, not bothering to care even if the jaw breaks and the hole becomes even wider, his goal is the only thing in his mind.
The blood continues to drip and he has never been so grateful for wearing an all black uniform for this occasion. Soon enough, after a few minutes of such a brutal wrongdoing, John sees the tip of the cock reaching the deep wound on the man’s throat as it continues to peak its way out.
A sick, small smile spreads across John’s face. The smile is barely there, but he’s fucking enjoying this more than he’d like to admit. He can only imagine how the news would spread across the assassin underworld like a wildfire.
The Boogeyman’s back in business and he’s scarier than ever.
Perhaps this might be the way to lay his point across. This is a way to show them that it was not a good idea pissing him off, killing what’s his, and bringing him back in business. They’d regret it, but it would be already too late for that.
John uses his other hand to pull the cock right out of the man’s throat but not completely. Half of it is hanging out and John thinks he could even consider this as a masterpiece. There’d be flies and maggots that would make the scenery better, but the cleaning service is there for a reason. He can’t just not use it.
John stands up from his position, pocketing his knife back into his pocket before retrieving his phone with the other. He dials a number, waits for them to pick up, all while admiring his work on the ground.
His previous contracts these past few months all ended in such an unimaginable, ugly way. He figured that by showing them that he’s capable of such brutality, it would increase the numbers of people calling him in for more jobs, because this is exactly what they wanted. They wanted Baba Yaga, the ruthless killer of the underworld who stops at nothing to finish his job, and he’s simply giving it to them.
Someone picks up the call and he straightens his posture, checking the time on his watch before speaking.
“This is Wick. John Wick, yes. I would like to make a dinner reservation for one.”
The news spread faster than anticipated.
The notorious man John Wick, the hot topic of the criminal underworld at the moment, even gained the attention of The High Table, and it all happened in the span of one day. That’s how quick the news spread amongst his fellow assassins, though that’s exactly what he was going for.
John expected it so he isn’t surprised when he receives a call from Charon saying Winston wants to meet him.
He inserts a coin in the door and the small window opened briefly. The guy on the other side immediately recognized him, not wasting a single moment to open the door and let the man of the hour in. All eyes are on him the moment he steps into the club, but no one dared to murmur anything to anybody – not when the man himself is here.
They know better.
John spots Winston at his usual spot drinking his usual order, signaling John to sit beside him where a glass of bourbon is already present. 
“Jonathan,” Winston greets, raising his glass. “We have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”
“I figured,” John replies, though not interested. He slides himself to the booth and takes a sip of his own drink. “I don’t understand why though.”
“Are we really playing this game, Jonathan?” The manager raises a brow. 
“I was just doing my job.”
“In a way you don’t normally do,” Winston then adds. “Or should I say, in a way you don’t even do.”
John gives him a look, but he could tell Winston doesn’t know how to interpret it. His face remains emotionless, not letting the mask slip and grant Winston the privilege to take a peak. John will continue to play this game until he’s satisfied, until he feels something again. Surely he’ll find what he’s looking for while doing the only thing he’s ever good at – slaughtering.
“Let’s just say I was trying out a new technique,” John says, voice deep and almost sinister. Winston’s scared, though he doesn’t show it, John knows. 
“I have known you ever since you started, Jonathan. Not once did it cross my mind you would do something so.. horrifying as this. You discarded the body like he was some sort of pig, so believe me when I say I couldn’t believe it at first.”
John has no idea why Winston’s whining about him being horrifying, when that’s all they’ve been saying about him ever since he joined. He didn’t gain this reputation for no reason, now he’s just simply showing them what more he’s capable of.
“You should’ve seen his record.” His tone is menacing, swirling the drink in his hand as he stares deeply at Winston’s eyes. “He’s worse than a pig.”
The drop of the curse word takes Winston by surprise. “So is that what it is, then? You killed him that way because you think he deserved it?”
“Not really,” John simply sighs, leaning back on the leather seat as he takes another sip of his bourbon. He really isn’t planning on staying longer, but Winston seems to be taking his sweet time asking him a bunch of stupid questions. “I couldn’t care less of what he’s done. I was simply… bored. Saying that I did that because I think he deserved it gives people a reason to think that what I did was justifiable.”
The look on Winston’s face says enough. He’s afraid of John, afraid of what he has become. Hearing John say he did such an unforgiving thing just because he was bored is beyond frightening. No man has ever inflicted so much fear on him before – at least not until John.
“I think we’re done for tonight,” Winston finally says, not wanting to hear any more disturbing thoughts of John, but he remains polite and calm for the sake of their friendship. “You have a good night, Jonathan.”
John gives him a nod, standing up from his seat and downing his drink in one go. “Goodnight, Winston.”
He exits the club with an eerie aura following behind him, not caring about the way people are looking at him like he’s got Death himself walking beside him.
It makes him wonder that maybe death doesn’t follow him after all.
Maybe it is him.
Someone offered him five million to fuck up a man who allegedly stole a fuck ton of kilograms of cocaine from their warehouse, and really, who is John to decline the offer?
Hunting the man is easy. It didn’t even take a day to locate where the man lives, and John’s already breaking into his apartment to shoot the guy and leave. There’s no point in rummaging the place for the cocaine, all of it is already up the man’s system by the looks of it, and killing him is John’s job.
John wants to finish this one fast, he’s got other business to attend to. As he backs up the frightened, pathetic excuse for a man against the wall, he takes his gun out of his holster and aims directly at the head, right between the eyes, and he watches in great pleasure as the residue of his brains splatter against the walls and the floor.
This man didn’t even put up a fight. John thinks this is a waste of time.
He exits the apartment with disappointment heavy on his shoulders, slamming the door shut. Although the gun he used has a silencer, the rooms are too close to each other. He’s sure there might be other people who heard the shot of his firearm.
The apartment building is located at the filthy side of New York, where most known drug dealers and junkies do their nasty deals. It’s no surprise that as soon as John steps a foot out of the worn out building, all eyes are on him, but mainly on the clothes he’s wearing. They’re planning on mugging him out, and John would like to see them try.
Just as he’s about to walk to his car, his phone rings abruptly in his chest pocket. He retrieves it in one swift motion, not noticing that a gold coin fell out as he does so, and he continues walking to not waste any more time.
“Sir! Excuse me, sir, you dropped something!” John hears from behind. He doesn’t bother looking.
The call isn’t nearly as important as the business he needs to attend to, so he hangs up the call and pushes his phone back into his pocket. As soon as he does that, he feels a small hand touching his shoulder.
John’s hand immediately flies to wrap his large hand around the person’s wrist, turning around to see a young woman with a bewildered expression on her pretty face, little fingers holding his golden coin that looks far too big on her hand.
She looks scared, terrified, and oh how fucking awful that makes John feel. Like he’s been punched right in the fucking gut. He’s enthralled.
“I wasn’t–you dropped it and I’m just giving it to you, I promise!”
She’s looking at John with big, doe eyes. She also looks freshly showered, wrapped in a black puffy jacket that makes her even smaller than she already is. John lets his eyes linger on her lips, so plump and glossy. Her voice sounds sweet, soft, something John isn’t used to hearing.
John can’t help but to stare.
“Are you–are you gonna let me go, mister?”
The way she stutters triggers a hot feeling in John’s guts, and can’t help but to rub his thumb on the girl’s dainty wrist before slowly letting her go.
So delicate, he could snap them in half.
“Sorry,” John apologizes, taking the coin from her hold, and his fingers itch at the way her skin feels so soft against his rough hands. “Force of habit.”
“It’s okay,” she smiles a little, and there goes that hot curl in John’s stomach once again. “That thing looks expensive so be careful next time.”
Just like that, John doesn’t get the chance to reply back. She makes her leave and patters away from him, and he watches. He watches until she’s out of the view, taking a turn to a corner, leaving John with something he can’t quite figure out yet, but he soon will be.
For the first time in a while, he feels something new.
Suddenly, everything is too good to be true.
John will find himself staring at his hands for too long, still feeling the ghost of her soft skin on his fingers, fantasizing about her pretty face and soft, plump lips.
It’s scary for him to feel something again because that only means destruction. John likes to believe he has a gift of ruining everything he touches, especially the pure ones – like her. It’s a proven statement. Just look at Helen and Daisy.
This little one won’t be any different, he’s sure of it. John’s whole body is heating up everytime he thinks about her. The look on her face when she saw John’s chilling expression, her wide eyes, so glossy and innocent.
John wants to see her again.
His fingers itch, yearning to touch her again. 
Why he’s suddenly interested in a young woman he just met a few days ago, he has no idea. John’s a bit confusing – fucked up, even. He long accepted the fact that his mind is nowhere near healthy years ago. He tried to push those thoughts away when he met Helen, but now he’s out of his shell and back in business, there’s no need to.
He’s always been one of the wolves, and now that he’s laid his eyes on his next meal, he will make sure there’s not a single thing that will get in his way to hunt her down.
He had a crisis for two days before doing the unexpected. It didn’t take long for John to find her. 
Now, John has been following her around for a week, and he noticed a certain pattern his little one likes to follow as she goes on her day.
The very place where they met is where she lives, surrounded by a bunch of goons who have no idea what to do with their lives. John begins to wonder why she’s living in a place like that. He could take her, put her somewhere safe, under his care and protection. Make sure no one will dare to lay a finger on her.
John knows where she works. At a veterinary clinic not too far from her apartment, which is why she walks to work every three in the afternoon, but not without stopping by in her favorite deli and getting a large order of her favorite sandwich. She’s a part-timer. She’d be at school from seven to twelve, and at work from three to eight.
John finds the little things she does amusing. He’d be seated in a cafe right across from her work, watching how she moves around her office through a big window, petting and cooing at the animals who come and go.
She’s so perfect, so pure, so naive. She has no idea that a monster is lurking ten feet away from her, watching her every move like a hawk, thinking about the ways he could destroy her, make her his.
John is not delusional. He’s fully aware of what he’s doing and he’s aware of what people might call him. 
Stalker.
Creep.
They don’t know him though. They don’t know why he acts this way. They’d do the same if they were him, that’s for sure. He’s not the bad guy here, he’s simply just protecting her little one, even from afar. John went as far as destroying a whole Russian Bratva for a mere puppy and a car, he’d do even worse if she’s somehow taken away from him.
John sees her exiting the building and his first thought is to follow her. He stands up from his seat, the cup of coffee long forgotten as he makes his way out of the café and keeps a safe distance between the two of them. It’s risky, especially in the broad daylight, but John knows she’s too oblivious to notice.
She’s with her friends this time, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by John how she clings at the shirt of her co-worker as they cross the street, small hands fisting at the fabric. He thinks about how he won’t ever let go of her hand once she’s his. He’s not big on physical affection, having to grow up with no parents and a rather strict orphanage, but maybe he could be gentle. Engulf her hand in his, stroke it with his thumb, tuck her hair behind her ears, show everyone that she’s already owned.
They wouldn’t dare to lay their hands on her again.
John walks in the middle of the sidewalk, not bothering to move away despite seeing people approaching. He doesn’t need to, the look in his face is enough for people to give him the way. It’s interrupted however, when someone does try to get in his way, placing a hand on his chest and pushing him back a little.
John clenches his jaw, pissed. He takes his eyes from his little one and on the person who so rudely interrupted what he’s doing – it’s Marcus.
“John? I was just looking for you at the Continental.” Marcus has a small smile on his face, clearly not aware of John’s expression.
His eyes dart behind Marcus, where his little one is supposed to be, but she’s gone. John feels something curl in his stomach, his fingers itching again, eyes rapidly searching for her in the sea of people.
He looks at Marcus again, deciding he’ll just find her later, but he worries that something might happen to her now that John’s attention isn’t on her.
“Why?” he almost snaps, voice deep and laced with no emotion.
“Why? Because it’s been quite some time, John. I haven’t heard from you since the Iosef situation, but I did hear you’re back in business,” Marcus replies, but when he sees how distracted John looks, his voice falters. “You working?”
“Yeah.” The lie comes off smoothly. “I’ll see you around.”
John taps Marcus’ shoulder, trying to sound as polite as possible even though he badly wants to break a couple of his teeth for taking his attention away from her. He knows Marcus is probably noticing something, but John’s never the one to care.
Marcus drops the subject. “Alright, John. I’ll see you around.”
With that, John disappears in the crowd with no looking back.
It’s been awhile since John last took a job.
He can’t seem to take his eyes away from his little one. He can’t stop fucking stalking her from morning to night time.
John’s afraid that once he takes his attention from her even for a second, something bad might happen to her. It’s engraved in his mind that she can’t protect herself and he’s solely there to be the protector.
No one would understand. He’s doing this for her own good.
John’s absence at the Continental doesn’t go unnoticed by Winston and Charon. They’re his favorite, after all. Watch his every move carefully ever since that ugly murder John did. Perhaps he could make his next kill even uglier. To them, it’s vile and grotesque. For John, it’s special and unique.
This time, it took a good self-beating before John decided to take a contract. Three million to hunt down a rival crime lord, nothing he can’t handle, but somehow it brings an unusual feeling on his shoulder he isn’t fond of. Perhaps because John’s leaving his little one for a while and he isn’t quite sure what to feel. Worried and pissed – but mostly worried.
That is why he hired someone to trail his little one on his behalf. Everyone in business would do anything for a coin despite how fucked up disturbing it is. John offered a generous amount of coins to keep the assassin’s mouth shut, but he also held him at gunpoint and gave him a good talk before he sent the dog out in the field.
His only job is to keep an eye on her, report everything he’ll see to John, and maybe even take pictures for safety purposes.
John has been overseas in the last three days, and everything that’s been sent to him has been his only form of entertainment. There’s videos of her giggling with her friends, videos and photos of her in the library, outside her school, her work, and even in her apartment. There’s also information sent to him about the background of her friends – every single one of them, because John didn’t pay so much for nothing.
There’s one particular friend that ticks off John in all the worst way possible. He’s young, around her age, and the way he hugs and touches her just fucking sets him off. John wants to break his fingers in half. He reminds himself that once he’s home, he’ll make sure to take care of that boy himself.
“What else have you got?” John questions through the phone, and it doesn’t take long for his precious dog to respond.
“Oh, he is one creepy motherfucker. I’m starting to understand why you’re so riled up with this guy, boss. The urge to strangle him every time he gets in the picture gets stronger and stronger everyday.” He hears a laugh at the other end. The guy that’s working for him – Alex, if he remembers correctly – is young, new in business, knows not to fuck with John so he keeps his job adequate. If Alex ever notice how fucked up John is for making him follow a young woman to keep his life in order, he doesn’t say anything about it. “Just tell me when I can shoot this guy and I’ll do it in a heartbeat.”
“Leave him. Keep an eye on him, but don’t kill him,” John advises, his tone leaving no room for discussion. “I’ll handle him myself when I get back. For the meantime, focus on Y/N and keep any troubles out of her way. Fail that task and I’d serve your head hot on a platter.”
“You got it, boss.”
John is playing nicely.
He’s not going to force his way into her life. He’s gonna be welcomed, with open arms, desired.
There are times he’d thought about giving in to his desperation and act with his dick instead of his head. There are times he’d thought about following her to a dark street, where no one’s around, he’s on the prowl and ready to pounce. He’d put a fabric against her mouth and nose, laced with enough chemicals to make her pass out and for him to carry her in his car with no problems whatsoever. John thinks about how he’d make it look like he’s just picking up his very drunk and passed out girlfriend and no one would know a goddamn thing.
John would keep her in his house where she won’t need anything but him. 
But of course, he’s not that cruel.
They’re only thoughts. Thoughts that he tries hard to keep away, but at the end of the day he reminds himself that he’s better than that.
John is not going to force his way into her life.
He’ll make sure to get her addicted enough to come crawling at his feet herself. She’ll be dependent on him, won’t be able to live without him. John will make sure his plan will go out smoothly or otherwise he’ll be the one bringing Hell with him on this land and seek as much havoc as he possibly can.
The death emissary himself will strike tonight.
A Friday night out with her friends has John on high alert. That’ll only mean she’s constantly surrounded with people, god knows what could happen if John even takes his eyes off her for a second. He lurks on the side, blending himself with the crowd as much as he can all while keeping his gaze on her. 
He doesn’t need any drugs to keep his mind insane, because the sight of a specific man getting very close to what’s his is enough to make him visualize all the ugly and twisted ways to kill a man.
She’s wearing a thin silky dress that’s low on her cleavage and shows her perky breasts. She’s currently the flame in a room full of moths, John included. Everyone’s eyes are on her, observing the way she sways her hips and sings along to the loud music – John’s fingers itch.
The itch to kill is back again, driving into his veins, his hands twitch on the table. John wants to pull out his gun and shoot everyone in this fucking room. He wants to stab them in the eyes one by one and make them feed it to themselves. He wants to grab this guy on the neck and slam his head against the wall repeatedly until his brain scatter all over the fucking place and there’s nothing left for him to ruin.
This guy is getting on his fucking nerves.
John watches as the man smoothly brings his arm on her shoulder, whispering something in her ear that doesn’t make her look so impressed. In fact, she looks disturbed, uncomfortable, tense. Despite the guy being her friend, John could tell she doesn’t feel comfortable with the way he’s showing her affection.
It’s hard to see her like this, but he knows he can’t just jump in between the two of them and beat the shit out of the guy until he chokes on his own blood. He’ll have to wait, maybe after this party, he’ll strike and discard the body in a way that’ll make even Winston spook in his sleep. It’s not a major offense to kill a man that’s not in the game anyway – or at least that’s what John tells himself.
This guy wouldn’t be able to be three feet near his little one once John’s done with him. He’ll be six feet under.
John sees her swiftly moving away from his touch, trying to make her rejection look as polite as possible, which receives a not-so-amused reaction from her little friend.
This guy doesn’t deserve her at all. No one does. Except maybe John, but that’s because he knows he’s capable of actually taking care of her and keeping her safe. Nobody would understand what he feels, what he yearns, what he wants.
Good girl, John thinks. Walk away.
His gaze follow her as she makes her way to the backdoor and out to the cold air of the city. John follows in a hurry, keeping a safe distance between the two of them, then opens the door as quietly as possible so he wouldn’t let his presence known.
There are a few people on the street, either having a smoke break or making out against the piss stained wall, but she stays just beside the busy road as she wraps her arms around herself.
His gaze burn daggers on her exposed back, the urge to cover her up with his jacket and take her home. A drunk man comes stumbling out of the club, accidentally tripping over his steps and he pushes her hard enough to make her yelp as her heels lose balance and almost making herself get run over by a passing truck.
Almost.
Everything happens so fast. One moment John is standing five feet from her, the next is he’s grasping her wrists in his hand and pulling her back to her feet and dragging her back to the curb. He was already on the act once he saw the man exiting the club, he knew exactly this would happen.
The scene looks strangely familiar, one John could never forget. The same position, same hand placement, same rough fingers around her wrist and dark eyes boring into hers – their very first meeting.
“You!” she gasps, not caring about the fact that she almost just got hit by a fucking truck. “I know you! You’re the guy outside my apartment that day! What are you doing here?”
John stares. Predictable. Of course she’s talking to him like they’ve known each other for years. She’s too friendly.
“Hello to you too,” John replies, though his tone is blank as well as his face. “You remember me.”
“‘Course I do,” she giggles, a little tipsy, pupils dilated and licking her lips nervously. “You’re pretty hard to forget. I remember asking my neighbors around the area if you’re new there, turns out you were just visiting.”
John furrows his brows, hand still not letting go of her wrist. What does she mean by she’s asked around the area about him?
His face must’ve looked confused, he sees her grinning childishly. “It’s a coincidence that I see you again!”
Not a coincidence, but fate.
John doesn’t believe in a lot of things, but he believes in fate. Fate brought him Helen, and now fate is bringing him another angel. If she really went as far as asking the neighborhood about his existence, then it must be fate.
“I’m Y/N. I figured if we keep bumping into each other then you should at least know my name,” she says, completely oblivious that John already knows everything that has to be known about her. From her little mannerisms to the last name of her fucking grandmother. “May I know yours or are you just gonna stare at me all night?”
“It’s John,” he gulps, not wanting to look like a loser in front of her, not after everything he went through for her. “It’s really nice to see you again.”
He sucks at this. He fucking sucks at this.
“You haven’t answered my question, by the way. What brings you here?”
It hangs in the air, John lets go of her wrist. Luckily, he thinks fast enough and says the first thing that comes to his mind. “Work.”
“Ah, work,” she nods. “You work here? In the club? What are you, a bouncer or something?”
“I don’t. Someone I work with is in the club.” A lie, but it’s not like she would know. “We had a talk.”
“Not really a man of words, eh?” she raises an eyebrow teasingly. 
“This is the most words I’ve said in the past few days,” John says. “I’d say you’re special.”
The look on her face is enough to make his entire night even better. Blushing, lips opening and closing, not knowing what to say. John wants to graze his thumb on her lips, thinking about how good it would feel stretching over his cock.
He blinks. Where did that come from?
“For someone who doesn’t talk much, you sure make it sound smooth when you do. Are you always this slick, John?” she giggles again, music to his ear. “That’s actually better than what I heard from my friend earlier, so thank you.”
“That’s good to know.”
Before she could say anything back, the door of the club opens once again and her friends appear, waving a hand at her and beckoning her to get inside. She looks at John, gives him a sympathetic look, as if apologizing that their talk gets cut off too soon.
“I’m really sorry but my friends want me back in there. Hopefully we can continue this again, yeah?” she smiles cheekily, tucking her hair behind her ear. “If you want, you could give me your number so we can talk someplace else? You know… with no one bothering us and all that.”
There it is. John didn’t think it would be this easy to sink the hook in. All he needs to do is pull and take what’s meant to be his.
“Sure.” He enters his number swiftly, feeling that familiar burn in his guts once again when he sees the wallpaper being her pretty face. “Feel free to message me whenever you want. I’ll make time for you.”
She looks at her phone and smiles before starting to walk away from him, waving a hand goodbye, but it doesn’t feel like a goodbye. John knows it isn’t. She’s already his the moment she started talking to him again.
“Of course! Get home safe, John! I’ll see you soon!” 
“You too.”
She doesn’t know John won’t be heading home any time soon until he knows she’s safe and sound in her apartment.
Jay Lopez.
The name burns on his tongue. Bitter and resentful. He stares at the photos his precious dog sent to him and he has to stop the impulse to burn every single one of them.
Jay Lopez is the guy that’s been leeching on his girl since the dawn of time, and thankfully John is here to put an end to it. 
He’s hideous. It’s interesting how John stooped this low that he’d be willing to kill a college student for being too near his little bambi, but alas, he’s never the one to care for such things. Morals and righteousness have never been in his book, not now, nor ever.
It’s only a matter of time until he gets rid of this pest. He’s fucking creepy, follows around not only Y/N but a bunch of other women. 
John doesn’t want his death to be quick and simple. He wants to do it in an ugly way, make sure his body will never be found, make sure he’ll never get to lay his hands and eyes on what’s his. The way Jay stares at her in these pictures ignites something evil within John’s veins. It’s been awhile since he felt something like this.
“Alex.” he looks at his pet standing by the door, waiting for the next command. “Bring him to me alive.”
“Can I at least rough him up a bit?”
John doesn’t answer at first, looks back at the photos on his table. “Do what you want, just make sure he’s still breathing when you bring him here.”
“On it, boss.”
Truth be told, John doesn’t need a pet to order around for this job. He has himself – a labeled attack dog of the Tarasovs for years, their hellhound, chained and muzzled unless they need him to kill. He’s a one man army as some would say, he doesn’t need Alex running around doing tasks for him, but it sure does make the job a lot faster.
It’s not a way to downgrade his reputation nor skills to hunt, he really just needs this Jay guy gone as fast as possible.
On the same day, Alex manages to haul a very brutally violated Jay to the floor of his basement. He stinks, pants wet from piss and a face John is having a hard time recognizing.
“You said rough him up a bit, not make him look unrecognizable.”
“Same thing.”
Jay is sobbing his eyes out, his cries of pleas falls to deaf ears and John just wants to fucking bash his skull with his own foot. “W-who are you guys?! What the f-fuck did I do?! Get me out of here or I’ll tell the fucking police–”
John kicks him on the chin hard to stop the goon from rambling. “You’re not telling anybody any shit, tough guy.”
“So, what are you planning to do to him? Can I watch?”
“Can you handle it?”
Alex shrugs. He’s in the presence of the most dangerous assassin in the underworld, wouldn’t hurt to learn anything from his skills and techniques, doesn’t matter how fucked up it is.
John nods towards the chainsaw sitting at the corner of the room, and Alex turns to face him with wide eyes. “Jesus Christ, man. You serious? Last time I heard you’re a hitman, not a serial killer.”
“Same qualifications. Same thing.” John grabs the man by the arm then drags him to a chair. He takes a rope from the table and swiftly ties him up securely. “We start with the head, then arms and legs. It would be hard to put his entire body in a drum full of acid, so we need to cut him off one by one.”
Alex looks like he’s about to run off somewhere safe from what he’s witnessing. “You’re talking like you’ve done this before, holy fuck.”
John gives him a look, and Alex immediately shuts his mouth. Right. He’d done this before. This is completely normal.
“I’ve been following you for a while, Jay. You’re a creep who befriends pretty girls, then you’ll drug them and make them have sex with you,” John taunts, the sound of his heels hitting the concrete floor is enough to send shivers down his spine. “Is that what you’re also planning to do with Y/N? Be her friend and fuck her once she’s drugged up and vulnerable?”
It’s a bold statement coming from John himself since he’s no better man than Jay, but at least his intentions come from a different place.
“You-you’re fucking sick!” Jay spits.
“I’m sick? I’m not the one going around making girls uncomfortable now, am I?” he picks up the chainsaw, then watches in enjoyment as Jay widens his eyes in fear. “We’re going to have a lot of fun, Jay. You won’t be able to use your pathetic little dick of yours to any woman ever again, and most importantly –”
John fires up the chainsaw, adrenaline coursing through his veins when he sees the horrified look in the man’s face as he tries to get up and scream for help.
“I can finally sleep well at night knowing you’re not in Y/N’s life anymore.”
As John steps into the light, a roaring chainsaw in his hands, Alex could only watch in horror as the basement gets painted with blood in mere seconds.
There’s a vacant apartment just across her room, giving John the perfect view of what she’s doing while she’s alone.
Most of the time, John will pull up a seat beside the window and take pictures. The other half of the time is just him staring, observing. It seems that she’s too comfortable knowing there’s no one across the building so she doesn’t close the curtains, leaving John no choice but to keep his eyes on her.
He found this place just three days after following her. He couldn’t help it. Following her to school and work suddenly wasn’t enough for John that he had to find a way to somehow watch her even in her sleep. 
He should be ashamed of himself. He should feel guilty for what he’s doing – he should stop, but he just can’t. John’s already done too much. This is like being pulled back into the underworld all over again but this time, there’s something good that’s waiting for him on the other side.
Maybe it’s the delusion that comes with it that’s not stopping John from whatever he’s doing. Lately, he’s been thinking about how life would turn out to be if his plan goes out smoothly. They’d live happily ever after, she would end up loving him just the way he planned it out to be, and John will make sure no one will ever dare to take those peace away from him again.
He’d make sure no one will ever come close to her again once she’s his. She’d be isolated but protected. Just how John likes it.
It’s been two days since John gave his number, but he knows she’s just giddy and nervous to text him. He’d seen her staring at her phone, biting her bottom lip anxiously, thinking if it would be a good idea or not. He knows she’ll give in one way or another because he sees it in her face. She’s too easy, too gullible, too naive.
She’s lonely, just like him.
John could tell she’s waiting for someone – she’s desperate, no wonder she asked for his number the second time they met. She wants someone to take care of her, to hold her, tell her that she deserves the world. That someone is John whether she likes it or not.
This isn’t just any unhealthy obsession. John finds himself too deep to get out. He knows her little mannerisms, studied her every action, has a red room full of her pictures and no one can’t say he’s not ready to give up anything for her. John has already given up his sanity ever since he mutilated a man for being too close to her.
She’s his life now, his everything.
John watches intensely as she shreds her clothes in her room, baring him the full view of herself naked, and John grips the side of his chair too hard his knuckles turn white. This is the first time he’d seen her naked, it’s so sudden and so… perfect.
His cock fattens in his pants as he observes every curve of her body. Her waist is fucking perfect and her body is thick yet delicate. John thinks about bruising her sensitive skin, leaving a mark that will show everyone that she’s owned. He would love to see her in a collar, hear it jingle when she crawls. 
She’s completely fucking naked that John wonder just how naive she is to think there would be no one seeing her like this. What if John isn’t the only one watching her? What if somebody else sees her like this? His fingers itch, jaw clenching.
He’d kill them. He’d kill them in front of her, and the thought somehow made his cock hard even more. He grimaces, disturbed at the reaction of his body.
John doesn’t really understand the sexual aspects of killing, but now he’s thinking about how she would react if she sees him working. He’d kill someone in front of her and he’d see the look of disgust and betrayal in her face. He can already imagine how her eyes would well up with tears and fuck, his dick shouldn’t be this hard.
She’d fear him, and John would be turned on. How fucked up would that be? Just how fucked up can his mind get?
He resists the urge to wrap his hand around his cock because fuck no. He would not stoop this low, he is not a teenage boy. No matter how strong the thoughts get, the thoughts of wrapping his own hand around her neck, squeezing it hard and cutting off her airflow as John forces his cock in her cunt, hearing her mewl and scream and beg to just –
John sucks in air, eyes back on her in her room, wrapping a robe around herself and heading to the bathroom. This is fucked up. His cock is incredibly hard and leaking, and his mind won’t stop thinking about how good her pussy would feel around him.
He’d talk her through it. Whisper sweet nothings in her ear as she releases around her cock, praising her for being such a good girl. Then he’d fuck her again, in a different position, debauching her in different ways not even the devil himself could think of.
John would ruin her, and she will have no choice but to accept it.
He brings his hand to his face as he sighs deeply. He wonders what Helen would feel of what he’s doing. Disgusted, no doubt. This is not the same man she fell in love with years ago. He would never do something like this, but fate has its plans, and John believes everything happens for a reason.
She was brought into his life for a reason and it’s up to him whether he takes.
John doesn’t realize that he’s been staring at nothing for too long until she comes back in his view once again. Her hair is still wet, still wrapped up in a fluffy pink robe, and John’s fingers itch to grab, squeeze, possess.
He sees her picking up her phone, staring for a moment before her fingers start typing. John has been anticipating this moment for so long, the time has finally come.
In his chest pocket, his phone buzz silently, the vibration sending excitement in his whole body.
There it is.
13.06.15 11:46 PM UNKNOWN NUMBER : hello! this is Y/N from the club the other night
13.06.15 11:46 PM UNKNOWN NUMBER : also that Y/N who returned your super expensive looking coin hehe ;) i hope you didn’t forget about me!
There it fucking is.
John’s lips curl into a small smile. His efforts are finally paying off. 
All he needs to do is to get what’s his.
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animeomegas · 4 months
Text
The Quest for a Second Life - Epilogue
??? x ALPHA!READER
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Summary: Having spent so long choosing their second life, the MC is finally rewarded and gets to live their second life. The only questioning remaining was... Itachi or Kakashi. GN!Dom!Alpha!Reader x Multiple Naruto Characters
Word count: 6.4k
Warnings: N-sfw content, tiny self-harm for magical blood potion purposes. All alphas have dicks, fyi.
A/N: And we're finally here! This is the end, and I hope people like it, even if you'd have preferred the other character. This has been a journey and a half, thank you so much for joining me on it. Merry Christmas to those that celebrate! I am deeply honoured to call @omeganronpa my friend, and seeing as I'm too far away to be around in person, I hope that this gets my message across as well as I had hoped 💗💓💞💖❣️
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Epilogue
James found herself lingering in the library when she knew she ought not to. She had just sent another human into their chosen pocket dimension, this time a historical romance, and she really needed to get back to her office to receive the next one. She knew this, and yet her feet refused to co-operate.
She couldn’t stop wondering after the human alpha she had recently worked with, although she wasn’t sure if humans would agree with her use of the word ‘recent’. They didn’t normally, and James had learnt that time flowed differently for humans than it did for Curators.
No, her mind was behaving badly. It was wandering off without her permission and whispering suggestions of going to check on the human alpha, even though James’ shift was still far from over.
Before she could think better of it, James turned and started walking towards the hidden backroom of the library, where books that were in current use were stored. Surely, it would be okay for her to have a little look at what that human alpha was up to. She would only linger for a little while and then she would get back to work.
She entered the backroom and scanned the shelves for the correct book. It wasn’t difficult to find, but she suddenly felt nervous. It wasn’t as if Curators weren’t allowed to watch the pocket dimensions, in fact, she knew several of her peers who did so regularly, but James had never felt the urge.
Until now.
“Just a quick peek, then I’ll greet my next human.” She opened the book and put it into viewing mode.
...
Ugh, you really shouldn’t have bought this much stuff. You juggled the shopping bags awkwardly, but persevered forwards as best as you could. It wasn’t your fault that there was a sale on today, how could you resist getting an entire bag of fresh peaches? You wondered if you could figure out how to make peach lemonade. It was the height of summer and a refreshing drink sounded like heaven right about now.
At least your new sandals were working well. They had been a gift from your parents when they returned from their business trip, and they were as cool as they were durable.
You dodged around a bush so that the branches didn’t abduct any of your shopping, grateful that you were getting used to this route now. Although you had grown up in the area, you had never really had a reason to stray this far. Of course, not until you met him.
Ugh, him. He was perfect. No, he was beyond perfect.
You had found him by chance, and the first few weeks had been a whirlwind, but you knew, more than anything, that he was perfect for you.
And there he was, in all his perfection, as you finally reached your home.
Itachi.
He was standing in the chicken run, his long, dark hair swept up out of his face in a more stringent ponytail than normal. You had helped him with it before you left, after his fringe kept getting stuck to his skin. He was wearing a pair of incredibly short shorts, and a loose T-shirt that always fell away from his chest whenever he bent over. It was a personal favourite of yours, but one that you never let him wear outside of your own home.
Itachi must have heard you, because he turned, a grin lighting up his face. You could see he had a smudge of mud on the swell of his left cheek.
Itachi was utterly stunning. He took your breath away effortlessly, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Alpha!” he called, lifting one hand up in a wave. “Look!”
It took you a moment to understand what he wanted you to look at, but you eventually realised that he wasn’t waving; he was clutching two chicken eggs.
“Amazing!” you called back, approaching the back gate, but stopping at the fence as you realised you didn’t have free hands to unlock it.
“The chickens are finally old enough to lay eggs!” Itachi was practically beaming as he exited the run. A couple of chickens attempted to make an escape, but Itachi flicked his fingers and gently knocked them back with magic. “Look!” He came right up to you now, letting you into the garden, and holding the eggs in front of your face.
“That’s brilliant, ‘tachi. Why don’t you help me get all this unpacked inside, and we can cook the eggs for some lunch. I have some peaches and lemons for lemonade, too.”
You both headed into the kitchen through the back door. You dumped everything on the table and gratefully slumped into a chair, thankful to be out of the hot sun. Itachi practically floated around the kitchen, still beaming. He unpacked what he needed and immediately started making lunch. He settled on shakshuka with the fated peach lemonade.
It was with great amusement that you watched Itachi don his cooking apron, the one you’d specially embroidered with ‘Proud Chicken Oma’.
After you had cooled down a little, you slowly unpacked the rest of the shopping, until Itachi called you over to the oven.
“I’m going to fry the eggs,” he said, sounding giddy. You had known that he wanted chickens, you did too, but the genuine joy that they gave him still surprised you. You felt so incredibly lucky that you had literally wandered into his life by accident, and that he had allowed you to stay.
“Let me watch.” You hugged him from behind and peered over his shoulder. And if you also took a quick sneaky look down his shirt while you were there, well, no one could prove it. It was probably too hot for hugs, but you couldn’t make yourself let go. You nuzzled into the area where you would one day put your bond mark, but for now lay unbroken skin.
Itachi wanted you to meet each other’s families before you properly bonded. Hopefully that day would come sooner rather than later, because having him walk around without your claim was driving you mad.
Itachi cracked the egg into the pan, and perhaps you were too much of a sappy romantic, but the lucky double yolk that it contained felt symbolic.
The silence was thick enough to cut. You took a sip of your tea to try and stave off the awkwardness, but it didn’t help.
You were sitting at your kitchen table with Itachi and his parents. Sasuke had been sent out to collect some eggs, most likely so Fugaku and Mikoto could talk to you alone, but even now that Sasuke was firmly outside, the silence remained heavy and oppressive.
“How long have you known each other?” Fugaku asked, finally breaking it.
“A few months, father.” Fugaku’s lips tightened and the lines around his eyes deepened. You got the vibe that he wasn’t happy with that answer. It was such a shame that Itachi cared about their opinions.
“And how did you meet?”
You cleared your throat, “Itachi found me unconscious in a snowstorm and nursed me back to health.”
There was a beat of silence, before Mikoto spoke. “Then you owe my son a life debt, you would do well to remember that.”
You were really getting the vibe that they didn’t like you. It was for that reason, that you hastened to reassure them that you had been looking after Itachi as well.
“Oh! Well, I returned the favour by giving Itachi my cloak when all his clothes were destroyed in the middle of the woods.”
Itachi immediately went red faced, and held up his hands, sputtering. Oh, whoops. That definitely sounded like you had been fucking in the woods. Of course, you had actually fucked in those woods, but that wasn’t what you meant to share with his parents of all people.
“We didn’t—It was an Amplexus plant!” Itachi explained hurriedly, his face continuing to darken. “I needed the seeds for a potion, and it got a hold of me, that’s all!”
Itachi’s panicked explanation broke the tension, as his mother started giggling, and his father sighed and put his face in his palm.
“Sasuke is our only hope,” Fugaku muttered.
It was at that moment that a squawk sounded from outside. Sasuke’s dulcet tones followed shortly afterwards.
“Try that again, you glorified rat, and I’ll burn off all your feathers, I fucking mean it, I—”
Fugaku sighed again and downed the rest of his tea like it was the alcohol he clearly needed.
There was no sweeter smell in the world than the one of yours and Itachi’s scents mingling together. And while you were certain many other alphas would say the same about them and their omegas, you were pretty sure you were right.
You panted onto Itachi’s neck, basically drooling. A joint heat and rut wasn’t the greatest for practical reasons, but fuck, if it wasn’t the perfect time to exchange mating bites.
“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Itachi slurred, hips rocking up to meet yours at every thrust. “Bite me, alpha, claim me, please!”
You groaned, knot already catching on his rim. It was getting harder and harder to control yourself. Itachi mouthed at the juncture between your shoulder and neck, the place where he would soon be placing your bite, and your self-control collapsed like a house of cards.
Your knot tied you and Itachi together, plunging you both into an orgasm. Somewhere, through the haze, your teeth managed to find their mark. You bit down just as you started filling Itachi with your cum. Itachi seized but managed to bite back.
You rode the waves together. It was the longest orgasm of your life, and by far the most powerful. Your mind was clouded with lust and emotion. Every instinct in your body was screaming, but they were all screaming different things; it was making you dizzy.
Protect him.
Make him scream.
Get him pregnant.
Hide him away.
Show him off.
Love him. Love him. Love him.
Yes, yes, you were going to love him, you did love him… And everything was going to be perfect.
You ran out of your joint bedroom potions lab barefoot, having abandoned your slippers in your haste.
“Itachi! There’s been an incident!”
You heard a crash from the kitchen, and quickly, Itachi came racing out to meet you in the living room.
“What is it? What’s going on?!” He scanned you from head to toe but couldn’t see an injury. He had known that you were playing with magic, and he was rightfully worried about what you had managed to do.
“It’s gone,” you said, wide eyed.
“What’s gone?!”
“My dick.”
Itachi blinked at you, processing, before his face morphed into something horrified.
“What? How can—?! What were you doing?! What do you mean gone?!” He grabbed you by the shoulders and shook you roughly. “Tell me what happened!”
“I was just playing around and then suddenly it was gone,” you explained, wringing your hands.
“What spell did you use?” Itachi asked frantically. “I can reverse it. We can figure it out!”
“I don’t know… I mean, at least I’m still alive right? It could have been worse.”
Itachi was still horrified, and you’d wager that he didn’t agree with you.
“No! I mean, yes, but we still need to fix it. Let me see!” He knelt down and started to aggressively tug down your shorts and underwear. “Maybe I can perform a reversal of—”
He managed to get the fabric down and out popped your dick, unharmed and just as it always was. Itachi blinked at it. You started cracking up, unable to hold the laughter in anymore. Itachi, realising that he’d been pranked, scowled at you.
He stood, crossing his arms and huffing. “That wasn’t funny.”
“Yes, it was,” you laughed, wiping away your tears. “You’re completely obsessed with my dick, I knew it! I’m just a glorified dildo to you, huh?”
“You’re being ridiculous.” Itachi had delightfully rosy cheeks.
“Am I? So, you don’t want to suck it?” You playfully shook your hips, wiggling your dick, playfully.
Itachi wavered. You waited patiently.
“This has nothing to do with anything,” he said, kneeling down in front of you.
“Whatever you say, darling.”
“Shut up!”
He was so much fun to tease. Hopefully, he never found out that you had the same obsession with his nipples.
“We do need more space, but I still want to maintain that cosy vibe, you know?”
“I agree. We could always increase the number of rooms, but still have them all be fairly small and closed off.”
You and Itachi were pouring over several sketches, trying to design your new home. You had decided to move closer to the nearest town, although you were still staying firmly in the woods because neither of you wanted to give up your private sanctuary. You also just needed more space. You needed a bigger dining table, more bedrooms, a separate potions lab, and crucially more storage space so that you didn’t come across snake eyes in the fridge when you were trying to make a sandwich.
Thankfully, with Itachi’s magic, the local builders, and the money sent from your parents, it was sure to be a smooth process.
“I think we should have a bedroom for Sasuke to use,” you said, tapping on an empty part of the proposed floorplan. “Not just a guest bedroom, but one that’s specifically his.”
Itachi nuzzled into your shoulder. “You wouldn’t mind? Because that would be amazing.”
“Of course not. He’ll be old enough to visit on his own soon, and I want to make sure he knows he’s welcome.” You liked Sasuke and you understood why Itachi loved him so much. He was like a tiny murder kitten that loved to scratch people. It was adorable.
“We have the pup rooms, the lab…” Itachi peered down at the paper. “Is that everything?”
You hummed, considering. “I think so. Unless you want a nesting room. Although, I’ve never seen you nest before, so if you don’t want one, that’s fine.”
“Oh.” Itachi was silent for a moment. “I’ve never tried nesting before.”
You immediately wished his parents would return so you could punch them in the face. Carefully keeping all the anger below the surface so you didn’t make Itachi think you were angry with him, you brushed some hair out of his face.
“Do you want to try it? We can try together, and if you like it, we can get a little nesting space added onto the master bedroom.”
Itachi smiled, looking unsure. “Okay. I suppose we can try it.”
“Well, I’m not an expert, but I think I can help with a simple nest layout.” You leant back and surveyed all the materials you had for nesting. Most of it was stuff that Itachi had made, some of it was things you had made, and a couple of pieces were from a craftsperson in town, made from rarer and more difficult materials. There was more than enough for a nice nest.
You slotted the heaviest duty and flattest pillows into the corner and arranged them in a double layer before securing them together with a sheet.
“One of my old partners used to arrange the base like this. It works well.”
Itachi growled and immediately destroyed the base, stacking it in a different way. Oh, yeah, whoops. Itachi was way too possessive for you to casually be bringing up old partners.
 “You’ve had other omega partners?” he asked, still rearranging the base. His voice was carefully controlled, like he was trying to sound distracted, when in reality, his attention was fully on your answer.
“Yeah, I—” You paused, trying to retrieve the memories. It was strange… You could have sworn you had past partners but trying to grasp onto details felt like trying to catch smoke. You could see flashes of dates, gifts and physical features, but you couldn’t really make sense of it. You wondered if it was a side effect of the amnesia spell you’d had. You decided not to mention it in case Itachi got worried. “I’ve had a couple, but they didn’t go anywhere. It never felt right, y’know?”
Itachi hummed, reasonably placated.
You continued to help him with small suggestions until you recognised the signs of an omega in nest building mode. Instincts took over, and you leant back to let Itachi do it how he wanted to.
The nest was so very him, even for his first attempt. It was chaos, but organised chaos, with gentle colours and neutrals, and lots of wool.
 Itachi sat back, blinking the daze away. “Now what?”
“Now you get in it.”
“And… what’s the point? What will being in it do?” He was staring at the nest reverently, and you knew he was going to like it.
“It should help you relax.”
Itachi bit his lip, but gingerly climbed in and tried to get himself comfortable. He fiddled with a few final pieces, but once he was settled, he sighed, seeming content.
After a few moments, he looked over at you. “Do you… want to come in, too?”
You grinned, and agreed, carefully climbing in and spooning your omega.
With you there with him, Itachi curled his legs up to his chest and went boneless. His purrs were so loud that you could feel them in your chest, but he either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He nuzzled into the pillow his head was on, basking in the soft materials.
You kept holding him but tried to remain still so as to not disturb his first nesting experience. You didn’t want to distract him from his bliss. You were honestly so shocked that he had never nested before. Had his family kept him so busy from such a young age that he had never had the time?
You made a mental note to see if you could add a nesting nook for Sasuke’s room too, seeing as he was also an omega and had probably received similar treatment. If he couldn’t have one at home, at least he could have one here.
Suddenly, Itachi stopped purring.
“Is something wrong, baby?” you cooed, gently stroking his hair. “We can fix whatever it is, I promise.”
Itachi only whined, pushing his hips back into yours. He seemed really out of it, not that that was particularly surprising. If he’d been repressing himself, knowingly or not, for his entire life, then his instincts were going to try and take over the second they could.
“What do you need, omega? Come on, tell alpha.”
Itachi pouted, whining again. He shoved his hips back harder this time, like he was making a point. Oh.
“I see.” Your mind was racing at how hot he was. “Do you want to cockwarm, honey?”
Itachi nodded, his purring starting back up again now that you were understanding him. Oh, he was just the sweetest, horniest little thing and you would set the world on fire for him.
You carefully untucked your already half-hard cock, trying to avoid knocking anything out of place. When you were free, you tugged his trousers down and easily slipped inside him.
When your hips met his skin, Itachi purred louder than he had before, melting into the nest completely. His eyes rolled back, and he was lost in the fuzziness.
Okay… so you definitely needed that nesting room.
You looked around your new living room proudly, savouring the ‘new’ smell. The entire house was perfect. It kept the essence of the old one, but you had so much more space. No more tripping over cauldrons in the morning, or accidentally spilling powdered bone on the carpet when you were trying to clean.
You were almost finished with the unpacking. The house still seemed pretty empty, but that was good; the house would be able to grow with you.
Itachi had scurried off into the bedroom a few minutes ago with one of the boxes, but you were still sorting through living room stuff. You peered into the nearest box. And kitchen stuff apparently. Why did you own so many wooden spoons?
“Alpha?! Can you come help me with something, please?!” Itachi called from the bedroom.
You stood up, stretching out your sore arms, and then went over to the master bedroom. You pushed open the door easily.
“What do you ne—”
Suddenly, you were reminded of the very first time you had ever walked into Itachi’s bedroom in the old house, the time where he had been half naked and in the middle of changing.
Here, he was half-naked again, but this time it looked purposeful, because Itachi was wearing lingerie.
It was a two-piece set, made out of a dark blue silk that perfectly contrasted against Itachi’s pale skin. Embroidered on it were hundreds of tiny, silver stars, creating the image of a night’s sky. Extra pieces of gauzy, see through fabric had been attached to the top piece, which hide absolutely nothing, but acted as a delightful tease. The set was clearly hand made, and damn, he was again, taking your breath away.
“Well, hello,” you cooed, feeling that stupid horny alpha grin slide onto your face. “What’s all this?”
Itachi fidgeted bashfully as you approached. “It’s a surprise, a celebration for the new house.”
“It’s a lovely surprise.” You ran your hands over his heated skin, feeling the silk with your palms. You kissed him heavily, your fingers dancing along the edge of his panties. “This is perfect for the new house, do you know why?”
“Hm? Why?” Itachi moaned, tilting his neck submissively, and giving you access to his bond mark. You nipped around the scar before answering.
“Because we still need to break in the new bed.”
“That will be 500 ryo, thank you.” The man handed you the requested amount and took the pouch of amethyst dust in return.
“How many enchanted apples for these?” a little boy asked, holding up a lovely bouquet of flowers. Oh yes, he was the florist’s son, you remembered.  
“Hmm,” you took the flowers and appraised them. “How about three?” The boy nodded enthusiastically and grabbed three apples before running home. These flowers would be a lovely surprise for Itachi.
“Do you have any more of the inflammation potions?” an old man asked, approaching the store. You recognised him immediately and put the flowers down, ready for a likely lengthy and completely inappropriate discussion. “They’re great for the old joints.”
“We have three left. How many would you like?”
“I’ll take the lot, thank you.” You wrapped the order up and passed it over. He handed you money in return. “Thank you. There’s a lot of downsides to getting old, but the joint pain is the worst of it in my opinion. At least I don’t have to put up with heats anymore. They’re great fun when you’re young, but when your back starts to go, well, you find yourself wishing them away.”
You hummed politely.
“This is why it’s so important for alphas to hone their skills in bed. I can’t count the number of times a young alpha has believed they don’t need to worry about sex skills because an omega in heat is so far gone that everything feels good, but one day the heats will stop, and besides, some of the best sex happens outside of heats and ruts and all that nonsense.”
You laughed, shaking your head. Why did your market stall always attract the weirdest advice and clientele?
“I’d wager you know all about that though. Has Itachi come home with any surprises lately?” You must have looked surprised, because the man winked. “Who do you think taught him how to embroider silk?”
You snorted. Of course. You made sure to slip a complimentary headache potion in as a thank you.
“The bedding is all fresh and clean, we bought it especially, and this blanket, I knitted it for you so you’d be warm, it can get cold out here. Oh! And also—”
“I’m fine,” Sasuke said, a slight red flush on his cheeks. “You worry too much, big brother.”
You watched from the doorway as Itachi fussed over Sasuke. Now 14, he was old enough to make the journey here on his own, and this would be the first time he was making proper use of his room. Itachi had been driving himself crazy trying to make everything perfect. You reckoned he was trying to ensure Sasuke had a good enough time that he’d want to come back.
Itachi’s face screwed up in indecision. “Maybe I should get another blanket for you, just in case.”
“Brother—” Too late. Itachi left the room to grab another blanket, leaving you and Sasuke alone. He glared at you harshly. Oh dear, here came the kitten claws.
“I know several spells that would remove all the parts needed to make sure you never touch my brother again. Just saying.” Sasuke crossed his arms and tried to look threatening. You had to try to keep your giggles under controls.
“Itachi wouldn’t like that very much,” you said lightly, remembering his reaction to your ‘I accidentally spelled my dick away’ prank. “And besides, that would be a very rude thing to do to the person hosting you.”
Sasuke growled, but you only raised an eyebrow at him.
“What’s going on?” Itachi walked in, another blanket bundled up in his arms.
You immediately snitched. “Your brother is threatening to cut my dick off.”
Itachi gasped, “Sasuke!”
Sasuke glared at you, but you only stuck your tongue out at him. You were seriously looking forward to the next week.
“So!” you clapped your hands together and looked eagerly around at all the potion supplies. “What potion am I learning today?”
You had been having Itachi teach you magic since you moved in, and while you were hardly a prodigy like him and his brother, you were starting to get decent at it, especially potions.
“It’s a pretty simple one, but it requires exact temperature control,” Itachi explained, pulling over a small cauldron. “We’ll need to use runes to manage that.”
“Exciting,” you murmured, trying to recall which runes would work best for temperature control. Probably the same ones that Itachi carved on your hot chocolate mugs. “What does the potion do?”
Itachi smiled, “You’ll see when we’re done.”
“Nooo, Itachi,” you whined. “I want to know now.”
“Later, I promise.” He laughed as you pouted and starting rattling off the ingredients list. “Now, help me crush the beans.”
Time passed quickly as you concentrated on following the potion recipe as best as you could. Before long, it was a blinding white and gently steaming, just as the drawing on the recipe showed.
“It’s ready,” you said proudly, closing the lid on the jar of moss. “Now will you tell me what it does?”
“It needs some blood to work,” Itachi explained. He grabbed a sharp knife and held it to his finger.
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to hurt yourself. Could my blood work instead?”
Itachi laughed lightly. “That wouldn’t work; it has to be me. Don’t worry, it will only be the slightest prick.”
You weren’t happy, but you allowed it, and two drops of Itachi’s blood fell into the cauldron. It immediately started bubbling.
“What’s supposed to happen?”
“Well, it will turn one of two colours.” Itachi leaned over the cauldron and watched intently. “Gold or black.” As he spoke the potion turned to a brilliant gold and Itachi beamed.
“What does gold mean?” you asked, wishing he would just explain what this potion was already.
“Gold means that the person who donated the blood is pregnant.”
“Right, okay, and what does black mea— Hang on, what did you say?”
“I’m pregnant,” he clarified, watching your reaction.
You swallowed heavily, “What?”
Itachi giggled, “I’m not going to say it again.”
“Holy shit.” Your brain blue screened for a moment, before it rebooted, and the phrase properly sank into your brain.
Itachi was pregnant. Pregnant. As in, there would shortly be a baby, your baby, and his baby.
“I love you,” you blurted out, wide eyed. “We are going to need so much baby stuff.”
Itachi laughed, tearing up. “We’ll figure it out.”
“You can do it, Daiki! Come on baby, walk to appa!” You were crouched on the floor, arms open and ready.
Daiki gave a little pup whine, but still tried, toddling over on unstable steps. He managed to get three good steps in before he fell into your arms.  You caught him easily.
“Whoo! Look at that! You’re such a clever pup, isn’t that right?” You lifted up your baby and blew a raspberry on his stomach, dissolving him into giggles. Daiki did some proud wiggles as you put him back down, glancing over at Itachi for positive attention as well.
Itachi smiled, eyes glazed with sickness, from his position laying on the sofa. “Good job, baby.”
Daiki squealed, grinning and shoving a fist into his mouth.
Itachi was watching you both, even though he was unwell. This was the first time that he was properly ill since Daiki was born, and he was nervous about it. You had quickly learnt that Itachi had very low expectations of your parenting abilities. You tried your best not to take it personally, understanding that alpha parents in his family weren’t normally the most hands on, but it did sting sometimes. You were doing your best to prove him wrong.
Was it easy for you to do all the cooking, cleaning, childcare, and caring for Itachi at the same time? No.
But was it something you were happy to do while your partner recovered? Of course.
Speaking of caring for Itachi, you probably needed to resoak the flannel on his forehead. You shuffled over, keeping an eye on Daiki, and gently lifted the cloth. Like you’d expected, it felt warm to the touch.
You resoaked the flannel in the bowl of ice water and wringed it out before gently wiping down Itachi’s face.
“How are you feeling?” you asked softly, dabbing around his neck.
“I’m okay.” Itachi sighed and sent you a weak smile. “How are you—”
“Oma! Oma!” Daiki had crawled over to you both and grabbed a fistful of Itachi’s top to pull himself into a standing position. “Oma!”
“Careful, darling.” You unwrapped Daiki’s hands from Itachi’s top and supported him up yourself. He seemed to realise that something was wrong, because he blinked at you and Itachi, and curled in on himself unsurely.
“Oma?” he asked, bottom lip wobbling.
“Oma is poorly, but he’s okay,” you said softly, smoothing down Daiki’s hair. He looked unsure, but he eventually nodded and patted Itachi gently on the arm. Itachi took his hand and covered it in kisses, and Daiki finally relaxed.
Suddenly, from the kitchen, you heard the sound of dinner boiling over.
“Oh! Come on Daiki, we have to go and save dinner!” You stood up, picking up your pup as you did.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to do something?” Itachi asked, sitting up slightly.
“Rest.” You stared him into submission, and Itachi reluctantly laid back down. “I can handle everything, trust me.”
Itachi still wasn’t comfortable relinquishing control, but you’d get there. For now, you had a sick omega and a needy pup to tend to.
You pottered around the kitchen, putting away the washing up, while Sasuke diligently took notes on spellcrafting at the kitchen table. You were used to him being around by this point, as he had moved in five months ago to take a magical apprenticeship under Itachi. As you understood it, his parents had encouraged him to stay in their village for his apprenticeship, but Sasuke had insisted that Itachi teach him.
Thankfully he had mellowed out a lot, and now when he threatened to cut off your dick, he was only joking.
At least you hoped he was joking.
Itachi was out today manning the stall in town, which meant you were holding down the fort and looking after Daiki.
The pup in question was currently playing in the garden with Sasuke’s cat, who was just as prickly as him, but had a soft spot for Daiki. At four years old, you were okay to let him play alone as long as he didn’t leave the fenced in section, and you could see him from the kitchen window.
Sasuke sighed, putting down his pen to rub at his temples.
“Having trouble with the spellcraft?”
“No.” He gave you no other information, so you decided to pour him a glass of orange juice as a peace offering and sit down with him. Clearly something was weighing on the teenager.
“Is something wrong, Sasuke?”
“No.” It was a predictable Sasuke response that you didn’t buy for even a second.
You knew that he’d need a bit more prying. “Are you sure?”
Sasuke hesitated. You remained entirely silent as he battled with himself, knowing that any amount of encouragement would only cause him to clam up. Eventually, he spoke, his words coming out slowly. “My father sent me a message.”
“I see.”
“He wants me to come back home, now. He said he’s found me another teacher.”
You nodded, and carefully kept judgement out of your words. “And how does that make you feel?” Sasuke shrugged, playing with the pencil. “You know that you’re always, always welcome here, Sasuke, never doubt that. Even if you decide to stop studying under Itachi, you can always stay here or visit as often as you want.”
Sasuke’s shoulders relaxed and you knew you’d hit the nail on the head. “Okay.”
“Do you want me to tell your father that you’re extending your apprenticeship here?” Sasuke nodded, looked relieved. You gave him an affectionate squeeze on the shoulder, and he relaxed even further.
“Thanks,” he muttered, sipping his orange juice.
“Of course; you’re family.”
Outside, the chickens started squawking, which was your cue to go and grab Daiki, so you left Sasuke at the table and went out into the garden. “Daiki, what did I say about messing with the chickens?”
But it wasn’t Daiki, it was Itachi getting home that had set them all off. He was carrying multiple bags on his shoulders, and he looked incredibly winded. You ran over to grab the bags.
“Are you okay? Come on in.” Itachi panted and followed you inside. He looked completely exhausted; even Sasuke jumped up to help when he saw the state that his brother was in.
“What happened?” Sasuke demanded.
“Nothing, nothing, I’m just winded from the walk.”
“Bullshit!” Sasuke swore, putting a hand on his brother’s forehead. “You shouldn’t be this tired from a thirty-minute walk.”
“Sasuke, don’t swear,” Itachi reprimanded. “I’m just tired, nothing more.”
You raised an eyebrow, grabbing him a glass of water, but making sure he knew that you didn’t believe him. Itachi took the glass gratefully and downed the whole thing.
When it became clear that neither you nor Sasuke would be letting the issue go, Itachi sagged down in his chair.
“It’s nothing, really,” he insisted. “I think—Well, I’m pretty sure I’m tired because—”
“Because?”
“Because I’m pregnant,” he blurted out, looking to you bashfully. “I’m sorry, I was going to tell you soon, I just hadn’t decided how yet.”
“Wha—Really? That’s amazing!” All your previous suspicions were forgotten, and you hugged Itachi tightly, feeling giddy at the amazing news.
Sasuke sent you a suspicious glare, but he had long since made peace with the fact that you and Itachi were having sex as long as he was able to live in denial about it.
You laughed gleefully and covered Itachi’s face with kisses as he giggled. “I guess it’s only me on market duty for the next year then, huh?”
You filled up his glass again. Now that you knew he was pregnant, your instincts were going to remain in ‘overly doting’ mode for the foreseeable future.
“Actually, I was thinking…” Sasuke awkwardly trailed off, scuffing his feet on the ground. “Maybe I could take over some stuff with the market stall. We could open it more days a week then, and you could spend more time on parent duty or whatever. I mean, I still need to study, but I have some free time, and it would bring in some more money.”
You grinned, ruffling Sasuke’s hair. His sheepish expression melted into a petulant pout. “That’s an amazing idea! Seeing as you’re going to be around for at least another six months, it makes a lot of sense! I’ll take you with me a few times until you’re confident doing it alone, okay?”
He rolled his eyes, “It’s not hard.”
Itachi, pregnant and probably incredibly hormonal, burst into tears at the idea that Sasuke living with you would be a more permanent thing.
Sasuke, completely allergic to feelings, promptly fled the room with the excuse that he had to practice a potion, leaving you to delicately wipe Itachi’s tears away.
“I’m happy,” Itachi sobbed into your neck. “I’m so happy.”
“Me too, baby, me too.”
You were incredibly lucky to be able to say that and deeply and truly mean it.
James watched as the human alpha built a home with their children, their mate, their mate’s brother, their mate’s brother’s cat, and seven… turkeys? Something like that, James couldn’t quite remember the word for those tiny creatures.
The human was happy, and bizarrely, that made James feel happy too. The weird burning in her chest subsided, and she was able to close ‘Potions and Magic and Sex, Oh My!’, knowing that her human made the right choice.
It was with a light heart that James left the library to guide more humans, knowing that her human alpha was happy.
If you asked her, the human alpha had more than earnt a happy second life.
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raz-writes-the-thing · 7 months
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Running Towards Something
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Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader
Summary: The Doctor is in need of some comfort after a nightmare.
CW: this is super angsty, references to loss, comfort at the end though
Requests are OPEN
___ ___ ___ ___ ___
The Doctor has seen things. There is no question about that. The Doctor has seen things that would make some people go mad. He’d seen horrors beyond the recognition of the human brain. He’d known loss. Such terrible loss- far more frequent than any being should have to endure. 
You’d seen through his facade almost immediately. It was easy when you knew what to look for. The way he didn’t quite answer certain questions, dancing around them with charm and humour. The way he adored physical touch and contact but could barely stand it for more than a few minutes at a time. Not because he didn’t want it, of course, but because it hurt too much too often to think about all he’d lost over his many years of life. 
That wasn’t even to mention the plethora of scrapes and close shaves that the two of you found yourselves getting into on a far more regular basis than you should. Even through the joviality that the Doctor put out in situations like these, you could tell part of him was growing more anxious and paranoid with every dangerous adventure.
And part of that was the fear of losing a good friend. But the majority of that? The biggest, most terrifying fear that the Doctor was plagued by day in and day out- was losing his partner. His partner in crime, the love of his many, many lives. 
Because that’s what you were, weren’t you? The love of his life. You were part of the many pieces that fit together. He’d been on the move for hundreds of years and while he could never live the normal life- picket fence and kids running around- being with you was the closest he’d ever felt to that. 
That’s not to say he didn’t want a version of the picket fence, just not the picket fence. His picket fence was blue and rather box-like and could travel through space and time and had virtually infinite rooms. And the best part? His picket fence was alive. Always humming and beeping. Breathing. The only other thing he’d been searching for after all this time- was someone to share it with. 
He’d had plenty of companions over the years. They came and went, and he loved them all. He really did. But none of them had filled that place in his soul. They belonged there, yes, but it wasn’t quite what he was after. He’d spent hundreds of years running away from things, but maybe- maybe he hadn’t been running away from anything- he’d been running towards something. Towards you. 
And it was this startling and terrifying realisation that started the nightmares. 
Every night he’s plagued with dreams that would keep a regular human from sleeping ever again. Every night, dream after dream where he loses you or loses himself. Horrors from deep space come for you. It’s almost too much to bear.  
He hasn’t had you sleep in bed with him before. Both of you were happy with keeping things slow and this was all still rather new. But tonight you’d fallen asleep cuddled up to him- peaceful and content. Having your head on his chest felt like home, and you’d never been happier than you were at that moment. 
The Doctor was restless, huffing and furrowing his brows in his sleep. Fingers twitch and little noises escape that sound very much like whimpers. He almost sounds… scared. You’re awoken by a particularly violent twitch of his arm around you. Startled, you blink blearily up at where you’re pretty sure his face is. 
“Doctor?” You ask with a yawn, not aware just yet that he is hostage to a deep sleep where images of losing you play over and over like a broken film wheel, breaking him down one at a time.
The sound of your voice triggers something in his subconscious- and the Dream You must be saying something. Screaming for help. The Doctor starts twitching more, legs and arms- even his neck twitches. 
“Doctor?” You ask again, this time much more concerned. You roll over and put the dim lamplight on. Turning back towards him, he lets out a little cry and you see a tear roll down his cheek. 
“Oh, my God-” You say, getting close again and pressing a soft kiss on his lips. “It’s alright, Doctor. Wake up, please?” You’re gentle about it, not wanting to scare him any more or cause any other issues. It doesn’t work. He continues to cry out desperately for you.
“Wake up!” You say louder, heart beginning to pound. What was he dreaming about? And why wouldn’t he wake up? Getting more and more desperate as he did, you began to shake him by the shoulders. 
“Oh, my love- please wake up,” you say softly, pressing your forehead to his. 
His eyes finally open, and for a second you think he’s okay. You pull your face away to smile softly at him. His eyes water and start to spill over. Oh, shit- wow, okay. Your smile drops as he reaches for you desperately, pulling you into the tightest embrace you’ve ever felt. You thread your fingers through his hair as he buries his face into your skin and starts to sob. 
“Oh, my darling,” you whisper, pressing kisses over his hair. You press your cheek to him and wrap your arms around him tightly. “It’s alright. You’re alright.” You breathe deep, in and out, hoping he might follow the movements subconsciously. 
“You’re safe, my love. Nothing is going to hurt you here. You’re safe with me.” 
The Doctor refuses to let go, not letting his grip slip for even a second. He hadn’t realised you’d both fallen asleep, but he was so glad that you were there. He hadn’t wanted you to see this, but now that you had, he was already feeling so much better. Letting out all the fear and the pain through the tears allowed him to slap a bandaid onto the issues that had been plaguing him for so long.
You hold each other like that until his breathing eases and the tears begin to dry. He sits up, and you sit before him, waiting for him to tell you what’s going on.
“In and out, Doctor. Just like that.” You have a hand pressed to one of his hearts, and you’re walking him through some breathing exercises. He follows along, reaching up to hold one hand over yours. His mouth opens to say something and you stop him. “Don’t you dare apologise.” 
His jaw shuts again and he gives his best attempt at a sheepish smile. You can still see the sadness underneath and peeking through the cracks though. 
“Why didn’t you tell me you had nightmares?”
“Oh, well,” he sighed, averting eye contact. You bring him back with a soft touch to the jaw. “I dunno, really. I just… didn’t want to worry you, I suppose.”
 
You shake your head and press a kiss on his cheek. 
“You can tell me anything, Doctor.” His cheeks flush the lightest shade of pink you’ve ever seen and you brush your thumb over the skin there. “Do you have them often?” 
“Only sometimes,” he replies, setting his jaw and looking away again. You cock your head to the side in a way that he knows means you do not believe him and he sighs, deflating a little more. “Every night. All night. Over and over.”
It’s all you can do not to tear up yourself. How long had he been suffering like this? How many nights had he been woken in cold sweats or tears trailing down his cheeks- and you hadn’t known?
 
You’re not going to ask what he dreams about. He wouldn’t want to tell you, anyway.
After that night you spend every night with him. Cuddling up. It’s every night at first, and then, eventually, it's a little less and a little less. Sometimes when he has nightmares you read to him, and sometimes you sing, and sometimes you just hold him close and play with his hair until he falls back asleep. You’ll never get rid of them fully, you both know that. But as long as you can make them a little better. A little less frequent. 
One day the Doctor finds a chunk of amethyst and obsidian in his pillow. He asks what they’re for, and you tell him their metaphysical properties are supposed to help with bad dreams. He looks down at them with such reverence and gingerly puts them back. No one’s ever done something so sweet for him before. 
Another day he finds a handmade dream catcher placed above his bed, and he grins at it. He doesn’t know where you’re finding the materials for all this, but your concern for him warms his hearts like nothing else. 
Eventually, he realises that he’s down to one nightmare a week, sometimes once a fortnight. He gets the first real sleep he’s had in months, and it’s all thanks to you. They flare up after close calls sometimes, but you’re always there to help him through it.
Yeah, this is definitely as close to the traditional picket fence as he wants to get. The TARDIS agrees, and for the first time in a really, really long time… the Doctor realises he’s happy. Really and truly happy.
___ ___ ___ ___ ___
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setsugekka · 1 year
Text
❥classifieds (m)
↳ Stumbling upon a tossed out android in the park across the way from your place is one thing, but catching feelings for him? Well, that’s a whole other issue entirely, now isn’t it?
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lee juyeon x afab!reader — chobits!au, fluff, awkward romance, angst with a happy ending, gratuitous sexual content, porn with plot [15.4k wc] cws: ethical/moral dilemmas pertaining to android sentience, sex under the influence of alcohol. sexual content: juyeon has a big dick and fucks like a pornstar because he is not strapped to normal mortal confines, penetrative sex (unprotected), (a lot) dirty talk, wet and messy.
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With your cell phone shrugged up against your cheek as you lug a large, tied off garbage bag down two flights of stairs on account of the elevator being out of order, you can't help but feel somewhat discontented by the gentle huffs of laughter coming through from your friend on the other end of the line.
"You really gotta get out of that dump, it's so long past time now."
Sighing, you finally reach the lowest level of the apartment building, and with an aggressive tug, the far-too-full bag of paper waste follows through the front doors behind you. There's a recognizable tearing sound that you're hopeful is akin to more of a plastic flesh wound than anything that will result in even more picking up of mess than what you've already done tonight — but as you reach the end of the walkway and are met by the gracious offering of the dumpster sidelined at the street — you hurl the bag up and over your shoulder with as much strength as you can muster, while simultaneously and much to your displeasure feeling the slip of your phone from its nestled place, down to the concrete flooring below.
"Fuck, fuck...!"
On the other end, you can hear your friends' voice as she tumbles to the floor, juggled against your palms as you attempt to salvage the device. It seems to help to some degree as you manage to force it away from the cool, hard flooring and instead into the far more plush, albeit wet, grass just nearby — it's been raining all day, and you're none too pleased about that on account of the effect it tends to have on your already shoddy mood as of late — but regardless, your phone is safe, and picking it back up, you can hear said friend asking what's wrong as you bring it back up to your face.
"Sorry," you say in a hurry, suddenly realizing that you've transferred much of the wet and dirty from the ground to your face having not wiped the screen before ushering it back into place to respond. You wipe it quickly with a grimace and finish your thought. "Kind of all over the place. Been a long—"
You pause again, partially on account of trying to decipher just how long it has been that seemingly any and everything has been going wrong, but mostly as a result of the heaping pile of...you can't even begin to know what that has caught your eye from across the street.
Your heart beats heavy in your chest, because despite it not being all that late in the evening, and the lights of the park just across the way being very much still illuminated, there's one thing that you're relatively certain of and even from this distance now:
That's a body.
"—Life."
"What? What's wrong?"
Squinting, you're not entirely sure how to even answer that question. After all, this friend has now long since moved out of town and cannot possibly aid you in the situation at hand should it be a situation, and beyond even that much...how often does this sort of thing happen? What should you do? Call the police? Investigate?
You don't really want to see something that you can't ever possibly unsee, but the ethics of leaving what could be another human being over there — if they're alive, injured, in need of help...
"There's...a body, in the park across from my place."
You take a step towards the road.
"What!? Well what the fuck! Call the cops!"
Another step.
"What if it's just someone drunk and passed out? I'd hate to get them in more trouble than they really need on their hands," you reply with another step forward, now well on your way to crossing the quiet, residential street. "I'm just going to have a peek, I can call the police if I need to but I just want to be sure."
"You're crazy, what if it's a set up, what if you get attacked!?"
You hadn't considered that angle, and now that the thought is in your head, your heart beats just that much faster. Some sort of ploy to lure an unsuspecting person to them only to turn the tables and hurt them instead, you frown silently at the thought of it, but make no effort in changing your course, either.
"Well," you sigh, reaching the dewy, green grass of the other side of the road and stepping a tennis shoe atop it. "You'll know as much, you can call the cops then."
The following steps are quicker than the last, perhaps a part of you trying to get this over with as soon as possible on account of the worry of not knowing what may be awaiting you. Your friend says something on the line, though you only know as much due to the general sound of her voice and not because you've actually heard any of the words said. You suppose that with each step forward and towards the pile of flesh on the freshly mowed grass — just under a lamp post and as if entirely meant to be presented for your finding — that the loud thump of your heartbeat against the inside of your chest is all too capable of drowning out any other sounds that may insist on being heard by you.
You sort of had wanted to be wrong; about the whole that's a body thing. Unfortunately, now that you're here, you're proverbially kicking yourself for having been such an adept guesser as much.
Eyes wide as you gaze down at the pile of person just before your feet, you know that your friend is still talking to you, and you're a bit aware of how frantic she sounds with each passing second, though you're a bit distracted by the goings on before you now.
A bit curled up and almost in the fetal position on his side, at a glance it appears to be a man: mid-twenties if you had to guess with messy, mid-length black hair that appears freshly shaved at the sides and adorning far too visually pleasing and clean clothes to be someone who has gone through something all that horrible leading up to their last moments here and now.
In fact, he seems immaculately clean — not a spec of dirt or blood or any evidence of blemish gracing him at all. Even as far as your assumption of a drunk evening out, you'd think someone to have far more signs to show of it before reaching the point of having passed out in a public park just a few blocks down the street from the bar district.
If the scene before you reminds you of anything, it's at most like a house cat — simply curled up for a midday slumber where ever he may deem fit.
"HELLO!?"
Wincing, now that the terror that has held you hostage up until now has seemingly dissipated a good amount, the shrill shrieking of your best friends' voice can once again be heard through the speaker, though you're not all that thrilled about it.
"Hey, it's fine," you answer back calmly, still staring down towards the man at your feet — contemplating what, if anything, you're meant to do about this. "I think it's just a drunk guy passed out, though he certainly doesn't look like he had all that wild of a night."
"Lemmie see."
That's right, video calling. Pulling the phone back, you switch the call type and turn the camera angle down towards what it is that you've been graced with. You're not expecting all that much of a response, so when she gasps in what would seem to be misplaced horror, to say that you're shocked would be quite the understatement.
Because what is so shocking about this, anyway?
"That's not a guy you moron," your friend says in utter disappointment of you. "That's a persocom. Look, you can see the serial number just under his ear."
You hadn't noticed upon first look, though you hadn't been looking for any such thing to begin with, but now that it has been mentioned, you bend down to a squatting position to get a better look at what it is that she is referring to.
And just as she said, there it is: the number eleven situated just below and behind his earlobe.
You sigh. "Okay, so...what do I do with him? Should I call like...the pound?"
"He's not a dog, he's an android, what do you think animal control is going to do about him?"
"I don't know! I just don't know what to do with him! Should I just...leave him here?"
A few moments of silence pass by as your friend hums in thought before finally responding to your inquiry with a far too cheerful tone.
"Take him home with you. He looks like an expensive model, probably a custom build so I doubt someone just carelessly lost him. My guess is he's been abandoned because things got a little messy back at home and the original owner didn't know how best to deal with it — or rather, couldn't handle powering him down."
You don't really know what any of that means, all things considered. Persocoms being far from your area of expertise on account of never in your life having enough money to ever own one yourself; instead, they're simply a thing that you're aware of the existence of, but far from anything that you understand in any great detail.
The idea of a live-in android, a humanoid personal computer willing and able to help you with any and all tasks that you may find yourself in need of — the idea certainly doesn't sound terrible when you think of it like that, but there is one thing that rings heavy in your ear even if the concept of it glossed over so carelessly.
'—things got a little messy back at home—'
Whatever that means.
"Is it even legal for me to take him? What if someone comes looking for him? Isn't he someone else's property?"
The shrug on the other end of the line is nearly audible as your friend hums an answer to all of the questions presented.
"If they cared that much, they wouldn't have left him here. No one dumps their million dollar car in the middle of a parking lot with the keys in the ignition expecting it to still be there the next day."
Fair enough.
"You're gonna need some help getting him inside, though. Ask your cute, burly neighbor to help you bring your lil twinkbot inside — oh, and record it for me, that guy is so hot."
"I'm hanging up now, I've apparently got things to do."
"Ta-ta! Have fun getting your kitchen cleaned!"
Ending the call and finally alone with your thoughts, as well as the predicament presented before you — you think over again just why it is that someone would leave something so expensive, so presumably prized out here for any other random person to come and confiscate. You feel sort of bad, but you also suppose that should you come to find that anyone is in search of the item that you can just as easily return it back to them, and in better shape than however he would have ended up should he be left out here in the cold, rainy elements of the overnight outdoors, as well.
Something about the road to hell being paved with good intentions nestles into the back of your mind as you make your way back to your apartment to grab your neighbor friend.
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As it would turn out, there are perks to having some nerdy, technologically-attuned pals.
Two knocks at your front door and you're quick to your feet, long strides across your apartment and towards the sound before you quickly open the door to welcome the all too excited smile that's awaiting on the opposite end.
You gently frown. "You're way too happy about all of this."
Popping an arm up on the wood of the doorway entrance, Changmin allows the grin to grow just that much wider at your displeasure. "Never thought you'd be the one to end up with a persocom, what can I say? Of course I'm excited. Now, let me see him!"
Stepping aside barely in time before your friend pushes his way inside anyways, Changmin barely kicks his shoes off in time before he's rushing across the open living area and over towards the slumped body of the android that you suppose is now yours.
Stopping just in front of him, you pause only halfway towards the two of them as your pal turns to look at you from over his shoulder, and you're none too pleased with the devilish grin pulling at the corners of his lips.
"He's handsome," Changmin says with some sort of insistence in his voice, though you feign not understanding it. "I mean, they're meant to be easy on the eyes but this one is something special."
You roll your eyes. "Okay, well, he's not mine and I didn't make him, so that really is neither here nor there as far as I'm concerned."
"Sure," he waves off, as if not entirely willing to take you at your word. "He's probably a custom build, a lot of money in this kind of work."
Silenced, you watch as Changmin kneels down in front of the couch where the model sits, tinkering at the limbs and looking the details over before finally reaching up under the long, white dress shirt and seemingly dipping a hand down into the waist of the persocoms pants.
"Uh," you motion in discomfort at the sight. "What are you doing?"
Changmin glances back at you again, first in confusion, and second with a roll of his eyes upon realizing why it is that you're acting some kind of way about where his hands have disappeared to. "Control panel is at the hip, calm down. If you're interested in the more intimate details of the model I'll let you figure that out on your own time."
"Changmin!"
"Just saying," he chuckles, pulling his hands back and settling the fabric back in place again. Standing once again, he leans forward and takes the chin in one hand, closely looking over the facial features of the android and subsequently checking for life. "Now we just wait and see if he boots up."
There's not long to wait, however; watching on in anticipation for only a few seconds, the slumped stature sprawled across your couch lazily blinks a few times, as if having just been asleep like any other person. Much to your surprise, there's nothing especially bizarre or robotic about it, at all. In fact, his resemblance to human is sort of uncanny. Changmin releases him and steps back to stand next to you as you both watch in a sort of awe as the man on your couch pulls himself up into a more proper, sitting, position, rubbing his eyes from slumber before they bring themselves up and towards you to settle.
"Now what?" you whisper with a gentle lean towards your friend.
Changmin answers with a question towards the model. "Do you have a name?"
A few moments of silence pass, and it causes you to wonder if there is some sort of internal memory damage done that would result in the original owners dumping him off in such a way. Surely, there has to be some reason.
"Juyeon," he says, although it comes off in tone as if a bit in question. Unsure of the answer even himself.
"Cool, he works!" Changmin exclaims with a clap of his hands, eyes wide and bright and full of promise of what's to come despite the persocom being far from his own. "Do you have an owner? Someone we should return you to?"
Narrow, thoughtful eyes glance up towards the ceiling before coming back down and settling onto Changmin. "I have no recollection of previous ownership in my memory banks."
Glancing towards you, your friend shrugs. "Guess he's all yours, then."
Great.
You're happy to take a bit of a more background role right about now as you listen in on the way that Changmin engages with Juyeon, instead, you look over the persocom as he sits on the plush furniture now — seated more proper and with palms pressed to his knees as his eyes look up towards the man speaking to him. He reminds you something of a school boy listening in on a lecture.
"It's settled then!"
Not having realized that you've spaced out, the loud chiming voice of your friend brings you back down to earth with a crash as you're left to wonder what it is, exactly, that has been settled in those few moments of your not having been paying attention.
"What?"
With a strong hand at your shoulder, Changmin pushes you forward, and stumbling towards Juyeon, the two of you meet eyes once again — though yours certainly much larger and full of unease than his — in fact, he appears calm, if not a little unaware of his surroundings in a sort of charmingly confused way.
"He's yours, like I said," Changmin reiterates as he heads back towards the front door to see himself out. "Everything's set, he's good to go, the rest is up to you to work out."
"I don't even know what that means! What do I...do with him?"
Juyeon's still looking up at you with his gaze locked — brown eyes and a dark dusting of what you can only figure is a mixture of eyeliner and smoked eyeshadow that gives him even more of a cat-like allure, you suppose that whoever it was that had this model made certainly had a knack for it as far as visuals go, though what that entails and the uses for such a dashingly handsome model of life-like android...well, you're not sure you really want to delve so deeply into that.
Regardless, you hear Changmin huff out a laugh under his breath at your question, as well as the gentle sound of your front door being cracked open.
"That's entirely between you and him."
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Over the following months, living with someone else begins to settle into a routine.
You figure it's simple enough, at least: Juyeon is happy enough with any accommodation you offer him. Countless of late night hours following his 'moving in' of sorts would inform you that owning a persocom is not much different from having a pet, though with far less emotional or interpersonal demands from you, and much more usefulness around the house.
Forum users often would post their routines with their persocoms and the work schedules that they would have them on. First time owners advised to settle into one, themselves, and to not allow themselves to view the androids as humans, though they certainly do resemble as much, and nearly unidentifiably different from anyone else in the crowd next to them. It's an intriguing sort of subculture, in a way: owners and persocoms and their relationships between one another. Some people happy to effectively use their personal computer androids as household slaves — keepers of the homes for nothing more than doing the tasks that the humans wish not to do, while others, you would find on one particular night after following what would turn out to be a quite fascinating internet paper trail of links, would view their persocoms as much, much more than that.
You would also come to find that the overlap in custom models, and owners with far more deeply established relationships with their persocoms, is stark.
It comes as no surprise the more you read into it and think about it: custom build computers far from unheard of in the realm of traditional hardware, so when it comes to someone interested in building what may effectively serve to be their exact, ideal type in a partner — all of the bells and whistles, every feature both physical and in personality perfectly manifested and created to serve — you find yourself occasionally looking at Juyeon through the eyes of whoever it was that set out to create him to serve that exact purpose for them.
And then wonder why it is that he has ended up in your possession now.
Seated at the dining room table now and with your laptop open, you glance up over the top of it towards the man in question as he scrubs a dish at the sink with one of your pink, frilled aprons snugly tied around his neck and waist — it's kind of a charming sight, you can't lie — and it's easy to see how someone could get used to this sort of thing. You've not settled into any particular routine with Juyeon at this point, and in part it's because you know yourself to be assigning him a particular level of personification that you've read time and time again to be ill-advised. It's difficult not to, however. So human in looks and the way that he simply exists around you, even the way that you find yourself thinking of him — as a 'man' — you recognize is probably far from the way that you should be viewing him. Regardless, as a result of your confusion in how to go about living like this, Juyeon has not settled in as your live in housekeeper, nor as your prized boy-toy, either. There are days where the both of you take on tasks around the house, sometimes he will clean the bathroom while you vacuum the house, but often, many days are spent with the both of you seated next to one another on the couch; little more going on than enjoying the television nestled across the way and against the wall.
Sometimes you suppose Juyeon's job is to do little more than simply exist in your shared space together, and he appears happy enough to do as much.
Though, it brings up another question in and of itself: does he have feelings? Does he experience happiness?
Of course, the obvious answer would be no. Androids don't have feelings, computers are not sentient. Weeks and weeks spent together with Juyeon, you can't be sure if you're becoming too comfortable with him and as a result losing your wits in relation to him just that much more, because there are moments where you're nearly certain that he must be experiencing some level of sentience. Emotion. A feeling. More hours spent late at night and long after he falls asleep to rest reading the accounts of other people truly feeling as if they've felt the same about their persocoms — only to be met with the backlash of people far more logically attuned, perhaps — because even as you read the stories from people who post just as much the same as you find yourself believing, you can't help but think them to be a bit too deeply enmeshed with what is ultimately, just a computer.
You think them to be crazy, and yet you think Juyeon to be different. So really, who is the delusional one?
When you ask him if he is happy, he tells you that he is. An easily programmed response, and especially for a custom build intended to be a specific someone's everything. No talking back, no free-thought, you exist to be mine and to live by me alone. You will be happy with it, but more than that, you won't express anything of the contrary.
A miserable life, even if he is incapable of truly feeling misery. Maybe you're projecting, both happiness and displeasure mutually upon a being so far from experiencing either of them.
Glancing over his shoulder and as if feeling your gaze at the back of his head, Juyeon gently smiles before turning back to rinse a glass in hand. You smile back, though it's slow in response and past the point of his ability to see it.
What truly charms you about Juyeon, though; beyond his sharp, model-esque looks and his impressive ability to get groceries put away in all of their proper places in record time, is more the cat-like and borderline vacuous curiosity that remains nestled behind his eyes. In moments when not tasked with something, you often catch yourself watching him — looking around the apartment at all of the elements surrounding him — small trinkets that glitter and shine, seemingly so intriguing to him in a way that you can't quite understand.
Because why would any of this be of any interest to him? Why should he have any interest in anything, at all?
It sort of dawns on you then, watching as Juyeon places the last glass into the drying rack next to the sink, that rather than doing late night internet searches and mulling over thoughts to yourself about the hows and whys and other inter-workings of whatever it is that makes up his mind, instead, it may just be time to do the most obvious thing.
Get to know him yourself.
"Want to sit with me?"
It feels weird to ask him, though you're not entirely sure why. You always present everything to Juyeon as a question, even tasks around the house. You know there is not likely to ever be a situation where he will deny you as much, it's almost certainly not programmed within his software at all (an ethical quandary in and of itself), but now you have no household errands for him to take care of. Rather, it's the most casual of circumstances in which you find yourself asking something of him.
Turning, it's almost as if his eyes light up at the question, though you curse yourself internally for even thinking as much. There's definitely a learning curve to this whole 'living with an android and not personifying him' thing.
"Of course."
Pulling up the chair just next to you, Juyeon settles in and his eyes settle upon you expectantly. You know this look, it's the look that is anticipating more tasks to be laid upon him. It makes you feel guilty, however — as if you're overworking him, asking too much of him already though you think it more likely that you ask far less of your persocom than many others do of their own.
It's quite literally a major function of his existence, so why does it feel so bad to use him as such?
Perhaps something to do with the way that Juyeon looks at you — as if you're the only person in the world. You suppose that for him that much is true, because as far as he can remember, the only other people in the world besides him are you, and Changmin.
It might be time to take him outside, but that's not the topic of discussion for tonight.
Pushing your laptop out of the way and instead replacing it with the glass of liquid, you nervously run your thumb over the rim as you purposefully avert your eyes from the man seating next to you. Really, you called this meeting long before you were reading for it, and now that it's here, you're not entirely sure what to say.
A shallow inhale, you pull your eyes upwards to finally meet his. "I want to...get to know you."
The silence following is deafening as you await a response. You imagine the gears twisting and turning inside of his machinery as if there's some kind of factory that lies beneath the faux flesh and hair that sits before you, though logically you know it not to be the case. Instead, you can see the proverbial gears of contemplation firing in that beautiful skull of his as he mulls over the words, and with pretty lips ever so slightly parted, he finally gives you a reply.
"What do you want to know?"
Juyeon's voice is deep and velvety in a way that you haven't thought about that much until this very moment. You suppose it's in large part because you've not sat down and had an actual conversation with him before now. It's pleasant, and kind of sexy — but you're quick to correct the thought as soon as it enters the mind.
"You said you don't remember anything about your owners before me, but do you know anything about...yourself?" you inquire slowly, as if treading upon waters that you're entirely unsure about. You don't want to offend him, or bring up unwanted memories, though you question how realistic a concern that even might be. "Like, do you have television shows you like, or a favorite color...foods you enjoy — though, I guess you don't eat food..."
Your words begin to sound a bit like rambling the longer you carry on, as well as you coming to realize that you actually have a lot of questions for him as he sits before you now.
Still, you watch as one, single corner of Juyeon's lips perk upwards, as if somewhere deep down in there he is thrilled about your interest in him beyond scrubbing tiles and porcelain.
Chin nestled against his palm with an elbow planted into the wooden table beneath, he cocks his head to the side and looks at you with nothing less than fondness.
"I can eat," he begins softly, quietly. "It's for show, of course, but I can. Shows, colors, anything like that...I guess it will just take more time, but I enjoy the things that we watch together in the evenings."
"We always watch something different, you just like everything?"
Juyeon hums in thought, and you wonder how much of it is for show as if to allude to the fact that he has any free will or thought at all. "I don't like the news. I don't like to hear about bad things happening to people."
Oh? A chink in the programming?
He continues the thought with little pause, eyes glancing up towards the ceiling. "I like those shows where a lot of strange people live together in a house and have fun all of the time, even though it seems to end up in fighting a lot..."
You laugh into the rim of your glass as you bring it up to your lips. "You like trashy reality television? I didn't expect that one."
It does raise a particular set of questions, however: the ins and outs of the goings on between sexually active and attractive people in reality television settings — how much of what would commonly be described as a typical, romantic, physically intimate encounter between people does Juyeon understand?
But you're not going to ask it like that, either. Because weird.
You take a sip of your drink and swallow hard before setting it back down onto the table.
"How much of the...human experience...do you know? Like, beyond speaking, cooking, cleaning — all of the basic, simple things — I guess I'm asking about...your programming?" you finally stutter the words out, though once you have, you can't help but laugh at yourself in the aftermath. "God, it's so awkward."
"You don't have to talk to me like I'm any different from you," Juyeon comforts, sliding a hand across the table to settle atop one of your own. It reminds you that you've engaged in physicality so little since his arrival to you, and his touch offering an unanticipated warmth that you wouldn't have expected from someone so far from human. "We're the same in all of the ways that matter, we just come from different places. I think that's the best way to look at it."
You swallow hard, heart beating surprisingly hard within your chest at the touch offered to you by him.
"But to answer your question; I have the same understanding as anyone else would, any other man of my age. I know of and understand the concept of the range of emotions, I feel feelings just like you, I feel touch and nervousness all the same. I understand romance, and passion, and—"
He pauses on the word, narrow, dark eyes glancing up from the table and meeting your own across the way. His gaze feels smoldering now in a way not before felt: kitten-like cuteness now replaced by a similarly feline but much more sinister presentation, your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him as his lips part once more to finish the sentence one started.
"—Everything else in between."
Throat dry at the words and touch, you shake it off briefly and hope for him not to notice the way you sit flustered as a result of it. Ridiculous as it is, there's something about the way that he looks at you and speaks to you in that moment that feels far too much like flirting, and worse than that, you shiver at how easy you found yourself lost in it, as well.
But Juyeon isn't real, not in the human sort of way, and you'll be damned if you allow yourself to fall romantically or sexually attracted to your live-in android pal. Not if you have anything to say about it.
Besides, that's a whole other can of ethically and morally questionable can of worms that you're not interested in wading through any time soon.
Instead, you abruptly pull your hand away with a loud clearing of your throat and your eyes just as sharply averted from his.
"Well, it's late," you say shakily, scooting your chair back with a loud noise and gathering your cardigan from the back of it. "Should probably head to bed, have a lot of work to do tomorrow."
You don't wait for a response, grabbing your laptop from the table and spinning to head towards your room. Avoiding his eyes all the while, it's only when you realize that you've left your dirty glass where it certainly doesn't belong do you still and resign yourself to having to turn back and face the man as he remains — presumably still seated where you've left him in wake of your humiliation.
A deep inhale, followed by a slow turn. When your eyes fall upon Juyeon again — messy dark hair and your cute, frilled apron still hugging his form, the glass is already in hand and you're met with the most disarming, delicate eye smile — almost as if a different man entirely sits there now from before.
"Don't worry," he says cutely and quietly. "I'll take care of it."
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The following couple of months pass far quicker than expected as the greenery of summertime melt away in favor of earthier browns, reds and oranges — it's as if the world itself offering you the perfect opportunity to change and shift your interactions with Juyeon and subsequently, his interactions with the world around him.
Numerous, afternoon shopping outings for long sleeved shirts, jackets and scarves for him, paired with warm drinks that only you drink but none to anyone's acknowledgement should they pass by in brief, you can't help but feel the adoring swelling of your heart as a result of scenarios such as these: Juyeon isn't your boyfriend, he's barely even a boy, at all, but there are truths of the matter, and as much as you try not to lend too much thought to them, it still remains that where once sat a kind of emptiness in your life — no longer it remains as evident as before.
After a long day out together with your persocom, the two of you return back to your apartment far later in the night than originally planned on account of missing a train and getting lost just a bit outside of town, even in spite of having a literal computer along with you for the ride. Still, Juyeon holds the bags in hand and at elbow bend as he kicks his shoes from his feet and shakes his hat off to the floor like a child. The scene brings a smile to your face as you hang your coat onto the hanger, and gently pulling bags from long, fully capable arms, you and he briefly meet eyes in a way that feels so much different than most of the other times that you do.
A fondness for him growing in your heart. Nurtured everyday by the fact that you live with him, cook with him, shop with him, do everything with him. There are little boundaries imposed between the two of you, and as a result of it, you find yourself becoming far too enmeshed with each other in a way that you know is well on its way to becoming unwise.
The truth is that Juyeon is kind, and thoughtful, and everything that you would want in a partner.
Everything that you would want in a partner that you have no hope of ever finding so long as he remains in your life, taking up the space that he does — not only in your apartment, but in your life, in general.
Comfortably nestled between the sheets of your bed, you sigh into the cool air of your bedroom as it gently swirls in circulation on account of the quiet spin of the ceiling fan just above you. Eyes slowly falling to a close as sleep begins to take you after a long and busy day, the stirring of your bedroom door just about fails to pull you back from the grips of slumber — as if unsure of its having happened at all.
One eyelid cracking open to survey your surroundings, you glance over towards the ever so slight pooling of illumination from the hallway, obstructed only by the tall, lanky silhouette of someone dangerously and conveniently familiar to you.
"What's wrong?" you question in a whisper, but Juyeon doesn't step any further forward in response.
Instead, you're met with a few moments of uncommon silence before you hear him inhale to answer.
"Can I—" he pauses again, trepidation heavy in the air between you. "—Can I sleep with you tonight?"
Oh.
Oh?
You know that you don't have that long to mull over the inquiry without bringing about even more worry and anxiety that is quite evidently already present within him. The idea of that alone is something that you've spent so much time talking yourself out of ever since finding him powered off and abandoned in the park just across the way that to be faced with the fact now and again — even in spite of being told as much straight from the mouth of the man himself — you have no choice but to take him and his word at face value now, as well as come to a decision as quickly as possible.
The relationship has been easy thus far, simple, enjoyable; in ways, something like this feels like the obvious next step.
Relationship.
Perhaps the obvious next step if Juyeon were human, and capable of even being in a true relationship with you, or anyone, for that matter.
Matters of the heart often at odds with the mind, but really, what's the worst that could happen? Friends share sleeping arrangements, family members share sleeping arrangements — you know yourself to be more than capable of doing as much without it becoming sexual.
Talking yourself into it, the beginnings of coping with having made a decision that you know not to be the one that you likely should be making.
Either way, you're out of time.
"Yeah, I'd like that."
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You're not so much startled awake by the feeling of it, in fact, you're willing to melt into the touch much quicker than perhaps you might have anticipated. Perhaps it's on account of teetering just on the edge of consciousness, and thus not entirely having all of your wits about you — maybe if you were in better form you would be far more willing to make the better, proper choice.
The gentle shifting push of your thigh out of the way, then the delicate curl of long, adept fingers into the sides of your panties — maybe you would have more of a chance, but not after the feeling of the smooth, blunt tip of his length sliding through your wetness from behind and bumping right snug against your clit with what one can only assume to be some sort of practiced ease.
You're certainly awake now as the groan catches in your throat and your eyes roll back ever so slightly — Juyeon continues on with the motions, too; there's no accident in his movements against you, faux-fucking you though with no penetration as he repeatedly delivers slow, stead drives of his hips against you from behind as you lie spooned and somewhat pinned beneath him.
He's heavy, but doesn't feel much more so than any other man of a much larger stature than your own. Instead, his lips press up against the shell of your exposed ear almost instantaneously with hot puffs of air cascading down from his mouth onto the quickly dampening flesh of your face as you remain caged under him.
"Does it feel good?" he whispers against you, and with the way that his breath catches on his own words, you'd swear that it must feel similarly erotic for him, as well.
You nod ever so slightly, managing out the most meager of replies as the feeling of him relentlessly prodding your most sensitive parts begins to have a building need for more and more. "Yeah."
"Do you want to feel more of me?" Juyeon then asks, hand slipping back from your underwear and fingers instead gripping tightly into your hip, as if to put the thought in your mind of how he could have you should you allow him to.
He sounds absolutely sinful in your ear like this, and you've briefly been made aware of this side of him before, though not one you've allowed yourself any time to mentally explore. It's something you've put well and far out of your mind — the possibility of this, the crossing of this line. You've done the reading, you understand the long list of potential purposes of persocoms...
He lightly groans into your ear, and it rips you back from your thoughts.
"I can make you cum over, and over, and over again," he says in addition, never relenting the slow, pointed glide of his cock through your folds. The persistent itch of a budding orgasm is felt between your legs, and you want deeply to be bigger than the urge.
"I have—" Juyeon whispers against you again, and this time it's paired with a particular shift back of his hips. You know what's coming, the most cognizant part of your mind choosing instead to feign ignorance just for the chance to simply enjoy this for what it is, and with little other thoughts or considerations accompanying it. Blunt, press of the end of him at your entrance, followed just thereafter by the slow, smooth sinking of his length into you as the rest of the thought finally exits his sinister lips.
"—Endless stamina."
"Fuck, Juyeon—"
"Yes?"
It takes you a few moments. Moments that feel like hours as you come back to consciousness and try to make sense of what's real and what isn't, but what you can quickly gather is that that was not real, and now that your eyes are open to view Juyeon laid up in bed just beside you: hair messy, eyes on you, and very much hands (and everything else, for that matter) to himself — this is real.
As is the suffering throb between your legs.
"Dreaming of me?"
You know he's joking, and you chuckle it off as normally — albeit, nervously — as you can. "Yeah, I guess so."
Having a hard time facing his gaze despite feeling it on your skin, you're only able to offer him a quick glance before hastily knocking the sheets from you and clamoring out of bed towards the bathroom for a much needed, freezing cold shower.
"Anything you remember?" Juyeon calls out lazily and through a yawn, turning himself over in place as to follow your movement with his attention like a pet who is all too interested in your every whereabouts.
Over your dead body.
"No."
You slam the door shut. It's on accident, of course, blame it on being so tightly wound up.
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Two days later, with the dream mostly out of your mind and the ability to make eye contact with your persocom having come back into your routine, after a simple dinner and a movie outing that turns a bit into dinner, a movie, and some drinks — with a light buzz that has your head a bit in the clouds and your inhibitions somewhere up there with them, once arriving back to your apartment with Juyeon, you find your eyes lingering on his form just that much more than you might typically allow yourself to view: quite a tall figure with broad shoulders and such a pretty, small waist to accentuate the curve of him — if the work done on his face alone wasn't perfection enough, then whoever had such a custom build done certainly didn't allow for the attention to detail to end there.
You wonder how much else of him is molded perfectly to someone's tastes, but shake the thought from your intoxicated head just as fast. You cannot be doing this. Not now, and not ever.
Juyeon pulls off his coat, setting it up onto the rack and dipping perfectly manicured fingers into the neckline of his white, button down, dress shirt — you watch him from the corner of your eye, though you wish yourself to have the self control not to — gently tugging at the buttons and leaving just a few of them undone in a trail that leads just far enough down the front of his chest to expose the pale, flesh there without showing off too much. A tease, though he's not doing anything in particular, and especially not on purpose.
This is entirely on you, and projection in its truest form. Curiosity certainly is having its way with you now.
Clearing your throat, you manage to pull your eyes away from him entirely, though the awkwardness of your movements draws his attention, anyway. Pulling your shirt from your pants in the beginnings of undressing for a shower and bed, you suppose it is simply time for yet another ice cold shower — not the first, and likely far from the last should these living arrangements persist.
But the clasping of Juyeon's hand around your wrist has other plans for you entirely, as it would seem.
Gently tugging you back towards him, everything feels like slow motion as his head dips down towards yours — other hand coming up to delicately cradle the side of your jaw as he leans in — you still in place for numerous reasons; fear, anticipation, concern, excitement. Juyeon pauses just after you, lips nearly feathering over your own with how little distance now rests between the two of you.
"Warming up to me, are you?" he asks in just above a whisper. You're not sure how to answer that, largely on account of the fact that it feels as though he can read your mind. A response isn't necessary though, because he continues the thought. "I can tell. I can feel the way your heart races or your body temperature shifts..."
You can't help it, chin shifting upward ever so slightly as if in an attempt to close the distance, but if he recognizes the half-assed effort, Juyeon doesn't allow it and maintains the gap still.
"You're interested..."
"I'm...curious," you correct, and for once it's actually the truth.
"Curious," Juyeon copies with slightly upturned corners of his lips. The air between the both of you feels stifling now and as though there isn't nearly enough to go around. Dizzying close to him in such a way that has you wanting to reach out and touch him far more than ever before, you have got to keep your cool — alcohol induced bravery being no excuse to make decisions that under normal circumstances you might never make.
And then come to regret.
But you suppose that the thing just said about being able to tell is true; Juyeon takes the moment into his own hands and walks you back only a few steps so that your back is against the wall. Now caged in by him, it reminds you briefly of the dream only a few days ago, although you face him like this now — reaching down, Juyeon takes one of your hands into his own and leads it up towards the unbuttoned mess of shirt along the top of his chest, pressing your palm to that very place as if urging you to touch him, feel him, be forced to acknowledge that he very much is here and real in all of the ways that really, truly matter. Physically, mentally, emotionally — Juyeon is just as much there as any other man you could have in your apartment this evening.
Your fingertips meet at the skin of his sternum, and though you've made physical contact with him before, you're surprised by his warmth each and every time. You don't anticipate him to ever feel as human as he does — even a light, barely there sheen of perspiration to the touch from the long walk between the train station and your home.
The science doesn't make any sense, or maybe it does and your judgment simply far too clouded by inebriation and desire to put the pieces together, but the thoughts are immediately put out of your head when Juyeon closes the distance between your mouths finally and kisses you hard where you stand against him.
Head slightly cocked to the side for just the right angle, when Juyeon's lips part against yours and his tongue dips delicately across your own you think for sure your knees might just give out from beneath you. Thankful for the wall at your back, fingers curling into the white shirt that they were placed upon — you know this is spiraling out of control, and quickly, but at this point...
You're not sure you have the self-control to do anything about it.
Suddenly and much to your displeasure, however, Juyeon breaks the kiss and pulls away from you, though not breaking the physical contact between you entirely as he takes your hand into his own and leads you towards the living room — seating himself on the couch, the very same couch where Changmin booted him up and back to life only a handful of months prior to now — you stand somewhat awkwardly as he gazes up at you with those same, devilishly slender eyes that you know to be hiding some sort of ideas of misdoings behind them.
Large hands slowly coming up to the buttons of his shirt again, his eyes never leave your own as he continues to release more of them; one by one another button falls away from the shirt that keeps the fabric held together, the flesh hidden behind, and with each one your breath catches in your throat. In situations like this, albeit infrequent as they are, you're given ample time to think about this, about this and what this is and what you're doing. It's wrong. Objectionable at best and ethically despicable at worst, you're fairly sure...
Your eyes look up from his hands and to his own instead, Juyeon meets your gaze with slightly parted lips and the gentle, erotic poke of his tongue to the inside of his cheek as his fingers run out of white buttons to unfasten, only to travel just a bit further down in journey of finding more.
"You said you're curious, " he says finally, pulling apart the button of his trousers with ease and making just as quick work of the zipper. "So, what are you curious about?"
You're fairly certain you're going to pass out.
He looks ungodly hedonistic like this under the barely illuminated evening lighting of your apartment living space — legs spread and undressing himself for your viewing pleasure. You wonder how much better of a person you would have to be to withstand this kind of test, because Lord have mercy, you are on the precipice of failing now.
Juyeon brings his thumbs up to hook into the hip of his slacks, and raising his lower half he gently pulls them down just enough to be out of the way.
All the while his eyes never leave your face.
"Curious about functionality?" he questions, though it sounds a bit as if it's rhetorical. An inquiry to no one in particular as your eyes fall to the far too fitted black fabric that now lies between your eyes and whatever it is that is hidden beneath. Juyeon brings one hand up to the bulge there, slowly palming over himself as you watch him. "Anatomical correctness?"
You swallow down absolutely nothing into the desert that is your throat as you watch on.
Then, he dips the same hand beneath the fabric, wrapping a fist around himself and shallowly pumping. Only now does he allow his eyes to fall from you — head falling back against the couch and eyes rolling shut at the feeling of himself.
"Or is it more—" he whispers again through his ministrations. "—Personal taste?"
"You're going to ruin my life," you finally manage out, but to that, Juyeon only laughs with a careful raise of his head once more to look at you.
"Quite the contrary," he says in response, still slowly palming himself beneath his briefs. "I can be any and everything you want me to be."
Inhaling sharply and with an evident shake of uncertainty to your stature, you look into Juyeon's eyes again — deeply, firmly — and come to a decision. It might not be a good one, and it almost certainly is not the correct one, but it's a decision nonetheless; made here and now.
You'll deal with the fallout should the time come.
"I want to touch you."
Juyeon doesn't reply with words, instead pulling his own hand from himself and granting you the space to experiment as you see fit. Knelt between his legs, your own palms slowly snake up his thighs only to meet at either side of the place that your curiosity mostly resides. Eyes fluttering up towards his own again before you go any further, one corner of his lips perking upwards in fondness has your nerves quelling just ever so slightly, though not nearly enough to put the entirety of the issue to bed.
"Do you...feel it?"
Fingers curling into the elastic waistband of his briefs, you tug them down along his slender hips gently to expose the long, hard, length of his cock to your eyes in totality. Part of you is almost surprised to find him to be erect at all, though you suppose it wouldn't make much sense, otherwise. You've done enough reading to know physical intimacy to very much be a feature of many persocom models, and especially custom builds, it should come as no surprise now.
Juyeon was built to serve many needs of someone's, and sex was most certainly one of them.
Taking him into your palm, the contact brings a jolt from him, and you suppose that's answer enough to the question. Juyeon answers still.
"I feel everything," he sighs out, reveling in the feeling of your hand along his shaft. "Pleasure, pain...I feel it all."
At that, you begin a languid, lazy pace along him, watching the way his chest heaves and falls with every stroke — amazed by how real he feels in your hand. Long, but not particularly thick, his cock weighs heavy in your palm, and even seeing a beading of precum at the slit surprises you, thumb coming up to swirl it along the wide, blunt tip of him.
He writhes beneath your touch at that, a groan caught in his chest while dark eyes stare down at you.
"You have...cum?" you question, still slowly swirling the liquid around the head and enjoying the unraveling of him like this.
While erotic in the most basic sense, something about the situation feels clinical, nearly scientific, in a sense. Even with Juyeon's cock in your hand as you stroke him off like this, you can't help but think it a bit like an experiment. Unsure touches that lack fundamental understanding, rather than something truly intimate and sexual in nature between two people. In the meanwhile, your free hand slowly traverses the exposed flesh of his abdomen just up the way…smooth to the touch by familiarly muscular beneath the pads of your fingers.
Maybe this ought to be how the first time goes, you can't be sure one way or another.
Barely capable of holding his head upright and with only one eye cracked open to look down at you, Juyeon forces out a reply as best he can. "Not in the traditional sense, of course, but you wouldn't know the difference in the moment."
"How?"
"Won't it ruin the allure?" he chuckles under his breath, though it hitches at the tail end with a particular flick of your wrist along him. "Knowing the technical workings of it all?"
You don't answer him, at least, not verbally; instead, you lean forward to take him into your mouth with a swirl of your wet, warm tongue over the head of his cock to taste him in full.
It earns you a full bodied groan, one that you've apparently been dying to hear.
Slowly bobbing along half of his length, you're only given a few moments of taking him before you feel a strong hand under your jaw — carefully pulling your mouth up and off of him to instead look him in the eye as he speaks to you.
"I can still cum in you," he whispers out, thumb ghosting over the wet of your bottom lip and lewdly pushing his hips up to glide the tip of his cock against your messy, used mouth. "More than most, if that's what you like."
The words bring such a painful throb to the space between your legs.
"What else can you do?"
Educational talk has officially teetered over into dirty talk, foreplay. Suppose that was bound to happen, all things considered.
You don't take Juyeon properly into your mouth again, instead allowing him to simply drag the wet mixture of spit and precum along your lips and chin in such a pornographic display that it has his eyes gazing down at you just that much more hooded and full of lust than you've ever seen before. It's intoxicating how he views you like this, and for a man that already teetered on the edge of unfathomable levels of sex appeal, you question whether it possible for anyone to look more seductive than he does now.
"Fuck you as long as you want, as hard as you want," Juyeon finally answers in just above a whisper, voice laden with desire. "Any time, any position. Anything you want, and the best part—" he questions, though you think to know where he's going with this already.
The anticipation of hearing the words pooling in your gut in what can only be described as unbridled arousal: the promise of unmatched sexual desire. No one will ever fuck you the way that Juyeon can fuck you, because it is quite literally impossible by human standards.
"—I never finish before you do."
Endless stamina, a cock that is always hard, capable of orgasm and continuing to serve you...precisely the kind of information that once upon a time, you were hoping to avoid ever learning.
And as if he can see the world spinning inside of your head with this newfound information, Juyeon leans forward in his seat to bring your arms into his hands — pulling you closer, he slots his lips against your own all over again even in spite of the mess. This time, however, the kiss is far needier, more hurried, laced with a wanting that you could have never guessed lied buried within him all this time.
Has it been, or is he simply meeting you where he must as per his programming?
Breaking the kiss, Juyeon only allows mere centimeters between your mouths before breathing the request into yours.
"Let me make you feel good."
Letting him take the lead, you melt into the touch of him pushing you up to your feet once more as his fingers go to work at front of your pants. Little time is wasted before the fabric is pooled at your ankles and you are urged to step out of it, when just as quickly, Juyeon takes your hips into his hands to pull you forward and settle atop him with a knee nestled into the cushions of your couch and on either side of his own.
Hovering over his lap, you feel the careful nudge of the tip of his cock as it settles firmly against your entrance but with no real insistence to enter you just yet. Instead, Juyeon's hands as well as his attention is turned upwards to your chest with soft palms grazing the skin and warm, wet lips wrapping around one of your nipples in just the perfect amount of pressure that has your head spinning.
Tongue digging firm circles into the sensitive bud, you almost miss the way one of his arms slithers around the small of your back as if to hold you snug in place against him, but just as quickly it becomes rather evidently all a part of his plan as you finally feel the intrusion of the wide, blunt head of his length prying you open from below and pulling your body down to sink onto him in full.
It's a slow, careful process — and for that you're thankful with no physical preparation done on your end. In ways, you prefer it that way — like this, it feels real, it feels raw. Sometimes sex simply happens without the bells and whistles and without the luxuries of time, or foreplay.
Sometimes, people just need to feel each other.
Teeth digging into your bottom lip to pull back the whine that threatens to escape you — feeling impossibly full of him like this as your hips settle flush in his lap — there's a passing moment where you worry of him being too big with the looming threat of him at the deepest ends of your insides, instead, Juyeon leverages his above-average strength to lift you off of him just at the precipice of too much before gently gliding you along his shaft all over again for friction that is just so fatally exquisite.
Getting a handle of your bearings and shifting your weight to take more of an active role, you roll your hips against his own as Juyeon shifts the grip his arm has on you to instead hook up at the top of your shoulder from behind — better to pull you down hard against him, fill you deeper with himself as you find a rhythm atop him that starts to suit you.
You can't hold back the whimpers, though you'd like to try, and looking down at Juyeon beneath you as you ride him, part of you wants nothing more than to ignore the explicit adoration that shines in his eyes as he watches you like this.
"Good?" he asks quietly, as if not wanting to interrupt when the answer is so obvious, anyway. You nod quickly, Juyeon pulls you down onto his cock harder as if in affirmation of your reply, and you moan out loudly for him as a result. "Want to watch you cum."
"Fuck," you gasp out, as if the mere request enough to get you there already. "I'm close, I'm close don't stop, don't—"
"Harder?" he asks you now, and all you can chant out is breathy 'yes'' in reply.
Juyeon shifts his position from beneath you just slightly, slinking down so to have better leverage of his feet against the floor and you immediately realize why when he meets your comparatively useless fall along his cock with a hard, full drive of himself up into you instead.
The force just about knocks the air out of your lungs, but more than that, the friction has you seeing God.
It takes little more of that — thighs trembling and abdomen clenching in orgasmic promise as you grit your teeth through the most euphoric release you think to have ever experienced in your life up until now. Juyeon's hips never falter, never slow — because why would they? Never at the whims of his own humanity or release, he can fuck you just as hard, just as fast, all of the way through your own orgasm and past the point where other men may lose themselves to the stimulation...
Not him.
Sounds of wet skin pressing hard and fast together ringing heavy in your ears — it's all you, that much you know — how drenched you are around his dick as he still continues to drive into you even after the peak of your orgasm falls off, it's only now that you realize that Juyeon will simply continue fucking you like this unless you ask him to stop — ask him to finish for himself.
Leaning down, you capture his mouth into yours all over again — a bit teethier and ill-coordinated than the previous times but much needed all the same, the man beneath you is happy to meet you in such intimacy, and like this, you whisper your own request against his dry, bitten up lips.
"You can cum, want you to cum."
Meeting the words with a throaty groan, Juyeon cocks his head to the side to kiss at you better before pulling away and speaking against your mouth once more. "Want to feel me fill you up?"
The grip his fingers have on your body stiffens then, one of your own carding through the damp, black strands that stick to his forehead as a result of the goings on now. Juyeon fucks up into you hard and fast again as if chasing an orgasm of his own and as the curve of his cock drags against your g-spot all over again, fingers curling into the hair at his scalp much harder than anticipated as he threatens to take you there all over again, your eyes clench shut at the familiar throb of him as he buries himself deep within your walls for one, last time and with a deep, almost pained groan through gritted tight teeth.
Clenching down around his cock like this you can feel him empty inside of you in waves — gentle pulses of his cum pumping heavy within you.
Then, silence. Nothing more than the quiet, rhythmic sounds of two people attempting to catch their breath in the aftermath of...who knows what, really.
Juyeon sleeps with you again that night, just as he had already done previously. The only difference this time being the way delicate, long fingers fish for yours beneath the sheets.
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Four, loud knocks at your front door is not how you wish to be startled into consciousness.
More than that, the distinct sound of a familiar woman's voice sounding out through the otherwise empty halls.
Stomach leaping into your throat, this is bad. Really bad. For a plethora of reasons, but most of all because of what — and who — still resides next to you in a deep and seemingly much needed slumber.
Last night was a lot, for the both of you; your thighs are sore and frankly the remanence of stinging throb that is still harbored between your legs serves as just as much of a reminder as anything of the series of decisions that led you to this very moment.
But you don't have time to mull over the hows and whys, because you have to get up, get dressed, and present somewhat properly before your friend wanders into your bedroom and stumbles upon the aftermath of such a thing herself.
You intercept the situation well enough, however; robe slipped on over your form and sitting her down at the dining room table for a late breakfast — a surprise visit, great, though less sarcastically so under usual circumstances. She brings breakfast and you're at least thankful for that because you are starving after the appetite worked up under last night's activities and you question whether you have the strength in your legs even now to stand at the stove long enough to cook something up for yourself, much less for a guest, as well.
Juyeon is no where to be found still, even an hour after your awakening. For that, you are thankful, though you know it not to last forever. Your home is his home, and he has free roam of it as he should...especially now, especially with the way that things have unfolded between the two of you.
Whatever your relationship is with him now, it is forever changed in some way, shape, or form. Lines have been crossed and while you're certain of his ability to simply carry on as though nothing has ever happened should you ask it of him...
Can you?
Shoveling another slice of fluffy pancake into your mouth as she carries on about what it is that she has been up to since having moved away from the city that the two of you once shared, your mind remains clouded with not only the what of your plans to disclose, but beyond that, the mere fact that you simply must.
And the window to do so draws quickly to a close.
"I have to tell you something," you finally say. The words are quiet, already somewhat beaten down in anticipation for a less than thrilled response from the friend sitting just across the way. She's not particularly judgmental, no, but this? This?
It wasn't all that long ago that you sat on the same side of the moral fence on this particular quandary as her.
"What—" she begins, and while at first you believe her to be inquiring about your words, the direction in which her eyes gaze — fully beyond you and back towards the bedroom door gives away that you have run out of time, entirely.
Shit.
"—Is this?"
Eyes closing slowly in a bout of displeased defeat, you exhale heavily before turning around to inspect the scene: it couldn't be worse if you had tried to set it up as such, either — Juyeon standing just outside of the bedroom and fully in sight of the both of you, freshly washed and nude from the waist up...only a towel held closed by hand at his hip to keep anything shrouded from the eye, at all.
He exits just as quickly, fast on the pickup and most certainly not needed for this.
Turning back to view your friend, the scowl evident on her features — a question of what happened here, how did we get here written all over her, though you can't imagine she'll offer as much in a verbal sense.
"I'm going to ask you this one time," she states calmly, though the displeasure in her tone is beyond evident. You don't want her to ask, because you don't want to tell her the truth, but you will. "Are you...involved with your persocom?"
Silence so heavy you could hear a pin drop, and picking at the skin around your fingernails in nervousness, you pull a shaky inhale into your lungs before delivering precisely the answer that you know she does not want to hear.
"Yes."
"Really?" she bites back, equal parts disappointment and disgust that you can hear all too plainly. "You're having sex with the android that cleans your bathroom? You're got to be fucking kidding me."
"It's not like that," you hurriedly answer with a whine. It sort of is like that, but too much simplicity behind the words, too little nuance, there's so much more to the circumstances and the goings on and everything surrounding...everything, that to say it like that doesn't do it justice: it doesn't do the situation justice, and it most definitely doesn't do Juyeon justice, either. "It wasn't like that for a long time, it was never my intention. I tried— "
She scoffs, cutting you off from the thought. "You tried? Tried what? To not fuck him? How hard could it possibly have been? Surely you're not so lonely and pathetic that you have to resort to settling in for a life with a custom built, glorified sex toy for life."
Hearing someone speak about Juyeon like this does something inexplicable to you in a way that you couldn't have anticipated. Bubbling rage in your gut at referring to him as nothing more than perhaps, quite literally, what he truly is — still, you cannot bear it. Can't bear to hear it, and especially not with such contempt in ones voice.
He is more than that, you know that to be the truth. You live with him, you speak to him, you share a life with him.
Briefly, you think back to all of those people you read posts from early in the days of your meeting, the claims of nearly certain sentience in their persocoms. Hints of life. True life. True free will.
You can't prove it, but you suppose that much like so many other things, some beliefs reside wholly on faith.
It is your truth, and that's all that you need now.
"Do you have feelings for him or something?"
Without missing a beat, you answer her. "Yes."
She rolls her eyes. "Oh, give me a break."
"You don't know what it's like, what he's like. Juyeon is so real, thoughtful and kind and full of life and love in a way you couldn't possibly ever understand unless you experience it for yourself. You know just as well that I used to feel the same way about the concept of such a thing, but now that I've lived it..."
"You cannot have feelings for your persocom."
"I care for him," you plead with a defeated shake of your head.
"It's not real, he isn't real," your friend insists, pushing herself back in the dining room chair with obvious intent to leave and hear no more of what goes on here any longer. "You're living in a fantasy land, and I don't want any part of it."
Grabbing her belongings, the woman that you once called your best friend exits your apartment in a flurry — you don't have time to offer any more explanation or understanding, not that you think it would quell the situation at hand, anyway, but the sinking feeling in your chest of not only loss, but guilt once again reminds you of all of the reasons that you may have been right the first time around. That maybe this is wrong, that you are wrong for allowing this to reach this point, at all.
Cleaning up the table full of plates of half eaten food that tell a story of a meeting gone horribly wrong, you consider doing the dishes here and now — and typically, you might, but the nagging feeling in your gut paired with the all too apparent absence of Juyeon calls you elsewhere in the quiet of the walls of your living space.
Knocking gently at the wooden door frame of your bedroom, the door is open, and in spite of it being the middle of the day, the flash of lightning oozing in through the rain drenched window on the opposite end causes it to feel equally gloomy in ambiance as the mood otherwise feels, anyway.
Along the way, Juyeon sits at the edge of the bed, as if in wait of you to come and find him like this. He is dressed now — a simple black t-shirt and loose, black sweatpants — oddly enough, it feels as though he is dressed in anticipation of somewhere to go.
Slowly walking inside, the rain pelts against the window so roughly that you're not sure Juyeon capable of hearing you should you wish to speak to him in a whisper, thus, you seat yourself at the edge of the best beside him with a palm lightly placed over one of his knees.
He heard everything, you know that well enough with the way that sound carries through your tiny living arrangements. Aside from that, you know him capable of feeling — beyond the projection of his sentience that you feel yourself so sure of, how much of his ability to feel even just at a base level; hardware, software, whatever it is that makes him the who and what that he is — Juyeon feels, and immensely so from the way that sadness wears so evidently on his features now.
You can't help but wonder if this isn't the first time he has lived through circumstances such as this. Memories wiped and primed for rebooting with a new person, a new life; all the while dressed and ready once again to take his leave, though why that urge settles within his bones so strongly, he himself can't even be sure.
"Should I go?"
The words, while anticipated, tug painfully at your heart. Lips down turning into a frown, you squeeze his knee beneath your grasp before leaning further against him and pressing your head to his shoulder in comforting embrace.
"No," you answer quietly. "I don't want you to leave."
Shifting slightly, Juyeon turns to face you more, wrapping long, strong arms around you in an embrace that you think to be something of a thank you for not abandoning him once more. Pulling from one another slowly, you reach up to cradle his face into the palms of your hands as you look deeply into his eyes: beautiful, and endlessly dark but glittering and so full of life, all the same — moments like these, like this, you're so certain of what lies beneath.
So much more than what you're told, so much more than what you had bargained for.
This time, you pull him into the kiss.
Rather than the trepidation of uncertainty, laced within these lips now is a sense of knowing, and allowing your hands to fall from his face to instead search for the bottom hem of his shirt, upon finding it, you feel the knowing grin of his lips twist against your own.
And with that, a tug of the fabric upward.
Juyeon slips his shirt off quickly, tossing it to the floor elsewhere along the room and you waste little more time shrugging off the robe that you earlier had no choice in putting on, anyway. Perhaps a wise choice as you're reminded of having worn nothing more under it, he's swift in maneuvering you in a way that suits him as he pulls up from the bed and instead pushes you back along it — following up the length of your body as his hips settle between your legs and lips once again slot against your own.
This time it feels different. Less curiosity, less learning. Now? Simply experiencing him.
Forearm pressed into the mattress beside your head, Juyeon's other hand feathers down the flesh of your torso towards precisely where you want him to be — delicate fingers ghosting over your skin in such a way that the tiny hairs raise in the wake of his touch, everything that Juyeon does is with intent to have you melting beneath him, and not only does it work, but it's far better than you could have ever imagined.
As his middle finger finds its mark between your legs, slipping between your slit and slowly rubbing circles into the sensitive nub of your clit, his lips slip down from yours to kiss along your jaw; down the column of your neck and settling just at the juncture between your shoulder, carefully sucking and nibbling marks into the supple flesh at his mercy.
Back arching into his touch, you want to feel him more and again. It hasn't even been that long since the last time, but with so much promise of what's to come, you find your body reacts in such a way that you barely capable of reigning it in. Every touch of Juyeon's is perfect, both in placement and pressure. Never too hard, nor too soft, always the precise, right amount.
Slipping a finger into you, you can't help but press your hips down and against his hand in a bid to feel more. Juyeon grins into the skin of your neck as you do, the feeling of his teeth that much more evident and bringing about even more of a pulse of your needy walls around the single digit buried inside of you.
"Juyeon," you finally say, though it comes out as much more of a pathetic, desperate whisper than ever intended. At the sound of it, he begins fucking into you slowly with the very same hand, simulating the precise thing that you both know you're about to ask of him now.
"Please," you whimper now, still grinding down against his hand. "Need more..."
Shifting his weight slightly, Juyeon brings his lips up to your ear before answering back in a whisper. "Want to feel full of me again?"
Arousal throbbing hard around his hand, you hear him huff out an amused laugh against your ear. "You know you can have any part of me that you want, all you have to do is ask."
Pulling up quickly and with no interest in losing more time, Juyeon slips his pants off and to the floor only to settle between your legs once again. This time, however, he sits knelt between your thighs as he brings the same hand back to continue prying you open for his cock, and as you look down to survey the scene, you find him lazily palming over himself as he watches himself work you open.
It's a bit more than you had been ready to take in the sight of, dizzyingly intoxicating and lewd with his lips ever so slightly parted in awe of you and the tight grip of his fist around his length pooling precum at the slit.
Slender and perfectly toned body sitting before you like this, perhaps you never stood a chance, after all.
Finally pleased with the work done, Juyeon slips his fingers from your wetness to instead hook around your thigh and press the underside to his chest — with your calf situated at his shoulder, he urges himself closer, angling his length down to press the wide and glistening tip of his cock at your entrance and with every intention of sinking into you just like this; fully splayed wide for his viewing pleasure.
Firm strokes between your folds, you moan out in need and frustration for him, which only brings an upward curl to his lips just that much more.
He's teasing you.
"Ju— ah —"
Protest quickly lost in your throat as you feel Juyeon begin his initial drive into you — carving out space for himself between your tight walls with slow, intense press of his hips forward — with your body open for him like this he feels even bigger inside of you. Fuller of him with less space inside to accommodate for his size, it feels so soon that surely he will be buried fully inside of you, but with a quick glance down through the tightly knit furrow of your eyebrows, you're quick to learn that the position offers far more than you had originally bargained for.
Humming, Juyeon tugs his bottom lip up between his teeth. It would appear that like the typical man, he's facing the mortal fear of desperately trying to fight back to urge to cum, but knowing better, you can only imagine that you feel fucking exquisite around his dick.
"Doing so good," he says after all, jaw nearly hung open as the last remaining signs of his length disappear inside of you. "So full. Pussy is so small, couldn't possibly take more."
Pussy throbbing around him as he says the words, Juyeon groans quietly with the first withdrawal before slowly pushing back inside of you all over again — slightly faster this time, and almost as if he anticipates you to break from under him.
Up until now, your mouth remains shut knowing well enough that should your lips part nothing more that desperate whimpers and whines will spill out, but needing more from him, you have little option presented to you.
"Juyeon," you say first, little more than a pained whisper falling from bitten red lips. Narrow, dark eyes fall to your own in anticipation of what it is that you're going to say, but likely nothing could have prepared him for the request being made of him, next.
"Break me, Juyeon. Make me yours."
Careful, gentle eyes turning nearly menacing, threatening at the words; Juyeon's grip into your thigh harshens suddenly followed by a quick, hard snap of his hips against your own — so rough that it has you shoving up the bed, it's following subsequently by more and more as he settles into a ravishing pace into you, delivering repeated, firm, drives of his cock against your walls and with the angle that he has now, the perfect curve of his length serving as the most immaculate deliverance of friction against your g-spot.
"You look so pretty wrapped around my dick," he manages out through hard fucks into you, eyes dancing their way between your own and the very place that he disappears inside of your needy body. With a firm enough grip of your leg in place and the strength to manage it, his other hand comes down to messily rub wet circles into your clit, and the touch has you crying out just that much more loudly for him, too. "Okay baby, why don't you cum for me? Lemmie make you mine and I'll give you just the reward you deserve."
And it doesn't take long to give him what he wants, either. Between the relentless fullness of his cock inside of you and the filthy words that drop from once seemingly innocent lips, your thighs shake in his grasp and walls tighten that much more around him with the threat of your release as it accompanying yell catches in the dryness of your throat — coil on the verge of snapping, you need something more from him, though you're unsure how to manage it out in time. Grasping desperately out and towards him, he picks up on it quickly — leaning down to meet you face to face as you hurriedly usher the broken words out from your body.
"Cum with me—"
Needing no more instruction, Juyeon settles back into place between your thighs continuing hard against you, and as the coil in your gut snaps with orgasmic release, you force your eyes open to watch the muscles in Juyeon's abdomen tighten just the same; jaw clenched firm and head thrown back momentarily just before his jaw falls slack and the deep, pained groan of release rips through him as he fucks his load fully into you as you cum around him and milk it thoroughly out of his body.
Slowing at the tail end of both of your orgasms, Juyeon's grip on your thigh softens, gently allowing your leg to fall from his shoulder, and while not pulling himself from the wetness of your cunt just yet, as you look up at the sight of him — fucked out and damp with the aftermath of sex that cannot possibly ever be beaten, as he carries on within you in slow, shallow strokes, you suppose that curiosity gets the best of you, yet again.
"Can you...cum again?"
He grins, as if with complete understanding of the filthy implications of such a question.
Gently lowering himself down again, bare chest to bare chest with you once more, Juyeon kisses along your neck once more, along your jaw and meeting at your mouth again. It's gentle, with barely there nips of his teeth at your bottom lip before he offers you an answer to the question.
"So, that's what you like," he whispers into your flesh, tone heavy with desire and the need to meet all of yours. "Make you mine, fill you with my cum over, and over, and over again..."
His hips begin to pick up pace again, firmly pressing the entirety of his still impossibly erect cock between your messy, soaked, walls. "Just want to be unthinkably full of me, don't you? Filthy thing, playing house all this time, wonder how long you've wanted me to make a complete mess of you."
You don't know, you sort of lost track, and you're not entirely interested in revisiting the timeline, either.
Pulling up and out of you abruptly, you're nearly discontented by it until you feel firm, strong hands pulling at your arms and twisting you to turn you over. Falling flat to your stomach, those very same hands gripping hard into your hips from behind and pulling you up to meet his own at just the right angle — you have little time to reconfigure yourself before you feel the blunt prod of his cock reentering you from behind this time...
And it is intoxicatingly electric the way his length pries you open like this.
Wasting little time, Juyeon fucks you hard and fast, slowing only to dip forward and grasp your arms into his hands — a makeshift contraption of you losing your range of motion as you're forced to merely balance on your face and chest with arms pulled harshly behind your back to grant him the leverage to fuck you full of himself just the way that you deserve.
Just the way that you want.
"So wet for me," Juyeon groans between thrusts, the prominent sounds of such evident with every hard meeting of his flesh against yours. "Won't let you lose a drop of my load, is that what you want?"
Barely able to speak, you manage out the most pathetic whimper of affirmation that you possibly can.
"Want to feel me cum inside of you?"
"Y-yes."
"You gotta cum around my dick again then," Juyeon insists, though it doesn't take much with the relentless fullness of him into you from behind, you're already nearly there by the time a hand slinks down between your legs to rub at your pussy all over again. A humiliating few seconds — though you have no concept of time now as it is — before you're crying out and throbbing around him just as requested, and with little more work, Juyeon answers you back with a loud, full groan as you feel his cock pulse and throb with release as he once again fucks you full of the warm, sticky wetness of his cum.
Slowly releasing your arms from his grasp and gently falling forward to lie beside you in the afterglow of all of this, once finished staring at the emptiness of the ceiling and contemplating whether or not there lies a specific place in hell for people just like you, you feel the familiar touch of Juyeon's delicate fingers as they find your own, slotting between and taking your hand firmly into his embrace.
"I think I'm in love with you."
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As consciousness takes you once again the next morning, you're at least thankful for the fact that it's not the knocking and yelling of a friend that you no longer are acquainted with that awaits you — instead, Juyeon stands at the edge of the bed with coffee and breakfast made, though not on much of a silver platter on account of your not having one — it's a cutting board, but hey, it's the thought that counts.
Head sweetly cocked to the side, Juyeon looks down at you with fondness that once upon a time you may have shrugged off entirely as nothing more than a part of his programming. Now, with a new understanding not only of him, but perhaps of yourself and life as a whole, you find yourself far more willing to accept things as they are — whatever that is, and simply...in the moment.
Juyeon looks at you with unbridled love and adoration, because he does love you, and he does adore you. No matter the hows or the whys or the wheres that it may come from, this is the truth; this is your truth, and this is Juyeon's truth.
Now that love has slowed down, you're simply grateful for the ability to have caught up to it.
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♡ send me your thoughts and feelings in my ask  (⌒‿⌒) —this is a oneshot, there will be no part 2.
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maissafespace · 8 months
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I know you.
Shigure Sohma x Reader
synopsis: Shigure Sohma, a complicated man with a lot of secrets, knowing him gave you everything, from love to happiness to frustration and pain. It can’t help that you cannot get away from him.
warnings: age gap relationship. angst. mean!shigure, domestic fluff, heartbreak, arguments, mentions of break up, mentions of cheating (not happening). nsfw. emotional s*x, doggy style, missionary, cream pies, mentions of pregnancy, breeding.
a/n: it’s a brief story for one of the men that has my heart, but unfortunately is in a unique situation with a person I loathe lmao. It’s something that I needed more than anything, I haven't written for some time so I hope it's decent. please like, comment, reblog, tip! thank you for reading!!!!
Masterpost • Masterlist
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Living as a zodiac and as a Sohma, Shigure never saw anything beyond the walls of the clan when he was young, and he never thought about it either.
When he was kicked out after the whole thing with that woman and the other as well, he had no option but to. He had to find a house, find a job, a routine to follow, to live a life as a normal human and not one of the zodiac.
In that, he could not forget to fill his own release. How to pass time when he had the time to distract himself.
First, it was his few flees here and there, Mayu as well. But nothing and no one that made him feel less like the dog of the zodiac, only loyal to one woman in mind. No one was ever serious enough or enough in itself.
The appearance of the kids was a welcomed distraction but not ‘it’ yet, it was another failure. Their fights, their presence made him observing of what the zodiac was, therefore made her existence even worse and far more amplified.
When he met you, nothing changed at all at first. You were and are younger than him, just another woman, meeting him during your first year in uni in a random cafe in the city while he was 25.
It took you a bit of time to actually talk to him, to get the glances and looks to have an effect, to have him take you seriously at all beyond an 18-year-old looking at a slightly older man.
Maybe at that moment you were looking for a distraction from the workload as well, he doesn’t know really the motive behind your pursuing.
But he knew that neither of you were actually taking the situation seriously, it was all out of lust, for him to not think of Akito and the curse, for you to probably not think of family and your own problems.
Things weren't supposed to be taken seriously.
Yet, after three years, here he was, thrusting into you deep and hard, groaning into your mouth as he muffled your moans and made everything echo with the slick on your skin.
Your legs spread apart, feet planted on the futon while his hands pinned yours down. Chest against chest. Forehead against forehead.
You knew his secret.
His attraction grew even more after the discovery, you stayed and listened, you stayed and understood, you stayed and didn’t care.
You stayed.
He knew the difficulty in it though, you were a very affectionate person, for years you wanted to hold him, the man that was making your head go crazy but you couldn’t without ending up with the cute version of his dog.
Because while it was at least something, after years, and a title, it was still frustrating.
As he fucked you thoroughly, he could see the way your legs twitched every time to wrap around him and feel the most. He wanted it too, feel your legs tightly around himself, feel your arms around his back and leaving all the marks you wanted.
As he spilled into you, hands firmly on your waist, digging into your flesh as he pushed as deep as he could, he showed you the same amount of want and need. The marks perpetually being left on your skin, everyday you saw them, every time you remembered that none other would fit them as his hands would.
Panting against your chest, he was feeling your nails brushing through his hair, your lips leaving light pecks on the crown of his head.
It was an experience looking into your eyes every time. He never felt as overwhelmed as in those moments.
So much care and love that he probably shouldn’t deserve for who he truly was. He had told you things but not nearly as everything as he should have.
His head was still split into his zodiac and human, but now there was you, thinking of Akito felt like a betrayal each time, he felt shame that he still couldn’t figure out a way to break this curse and shame of feeling a pull that he would never feel with you. It was something unique with Akito, unfortunately and till then, when she called he would be with her as she wished.
While nothing physical had happened, that was the bare minimum. Just his thoughts were near enough awful for someone in a relationship, he couldn't do anything about the chain that tugged when she wished even in moments like these, where he had the only woman who truly loved him unconditionally with him, making love to her.
Much that he only snapped out of it when he felt you push him off your body. Scrambling around with the sheet covering yourself to find your clothes while he just closed his eyes with a sigh, knowing he had fucked up royally, his hand going to his face, eyes looking down with guilt and then at you, putting on his t-shirt and pants with your shoulders going up and down irregularly.
"I'm sorry." Is all he could say.
"It's not enough." You said with a crack in your voice. "I understand, okay? I do, I did for three years but I can't just ignore it every time. I know she's in your head but where am I? Are you wishing it was her? Are you just doing this out of pettiness? Are you just wasting my time? Am I wasting my time with a man that cannot stop thinking of his ex lover even when we are having sex? Did you cum because of her or me? These are all the questions that come to mind whenver this happens, I'm tired of it, Shigure." Tears were freely rolling down your cheeks, looking at him with sadness and disappointment as he just felt guilt. He couldn't even hug you.
"I know it's not enough but I'm trying. I don't want to think of her, I don't want to, I want to be with you. Why do you think we are where we are now? I want you, but I cannot stop that! I cannot break it." He said through frustration.
"And I get it! But you cannot expect me to not be hurt!" You said back to him.
The room fell in silence. When your breathing regulated, you started to walk off to the door, but he held you back by the wrist. "Where are you going?"
Snatching it back. "I will sleep with Tohru. I cannot be with you tonight."
You closed the door behind you. Shigure just fell back into bed, hunched over as he repressed the need to scream in frustration. He didn't want to admit defeat, unfortunately whenever this happens, he would lose you for three days at least.
He could not do anything, he had not found the way to break the curse yet. He was really trying, for you and for him to live a normal life. He was also sure that it will still take time for it to happen after he discovered a way.
He slept sporadically in the night, waking up every hour and hoping to find you back on the other side of the bed, but it was always empty. In the early morning he woke up and walked down to find the kids all up and about, you were with Tohru by her side wearing his long sleeved shirt and his sweatpants, with your hair wet after what he assumed was a relaxing shower whenever you felt stressed.
Tohru greeted him as gently and kindly as always, Kyo and Yuki doing the same with less enthusiasm, you stayed quiet, he only met your eyes briefly, recognizing the puffiness and the slight redness you tried to cover up, looking away as quickly as possible.
The kids knew to not ask. They ignored whatever had happened every time it happened. Breakfast happened as normally as it would've.
When the kids were gone, so were you, locked up in your shared room with him as you worked from your computer, he knew already he had to stay out of it, he stayed in his study room, writing when he could not do nothing but think to how fix things with you this time.
The first two days went exactly as he predicted, each of you staying in your own spaces, not a word said between you two. He felt anger that you got mad at something he could not control at all and frustration that he could understand it. He saw you each day with the same puffiness around your eyes.
The third was not as he imagined, after the kids went to school, he waited for you to walk up the stairs and disappear till they returned, instead you spoke to him. "We need to talk, Shigure."
Those words didn't inspire faith in him, just fear. Hearing his full name from your lips felt even worse, whatever it was, it was not something he probably wanted to hear.
You two sat in front of each other in his studio, in silence, heart racing in both your chests as you tried to find the right way to put it out. But there wasn't a right way, so you just said it.
"We should break up."
Your words felt like a bucket of ice poured onto him. His eyes widened and he spoke without even thinking. "No."
"I'm not asking, Shigure."
"I said no. I'm not breaking up with you, I don't care whatever you have to say about it, I am not ending my relationship with you." He said, anger visible in his eyes. "We are happy."
"If you think happy means having an argument every two weeks because of another woman, I doubt and am scared of your definition." You said with a chuckle.
"Are you unhappy?" He asked directly.
"I'm not happy entirely." You swallowed. "We have our happy moments, I know, everything apart from this is perfect. But I just can't overlook it every time. It hurts, Shigure, I feel it breaking me all the time physically and emtionally." You said to him. His jaw clenched.
"I'm trying, it's not something I asked for. I want to break it as much as you do and live a fucking normal life."
"And how much time is that going to take? A year? Two years? Five? Ten? Never?! I am 21, I am young and have time to start and build something with someone else, Shigure. I'm not wasting time being your second choice, I will want to get married and have children. What will happen then? Akito will have me end up like Kana and then what, Shigure?"
"You're not a second choice-"
"I am if there is another woman in your heart and mind. Because there shouldn't be. I do not have another man pop up every now and then to which I cannot say no, to which I cannot not accept advances from."
"You know, nothing ever happened. Don't start that shit with me, Y/N. You won't end up like Kana, I won't let Akito get close to you, I made sure of that for three years and Hatori knows he cannot. This conversation is over, I'm not breakiing up with you, forget it." He got up and started to walk away.
"Shigure. Shigure. Shigure!" You yelled following after him up till you were in your shared bedroom. "Stop behaving like this."
"I told you I'm done with the conversation."
"But I'm not. Can you not understand that I'm hurting and we have no way to know if this will end up in tragedy or will work out."
"Do you think I don't want that? I just want to have a fucking life, away from that, now that I'm with you. I did think of it, I want to get married and have a family with you, I just need time to figure this out and break it." Tears rolled down your cheeks at the thought of not having that.
You had fallen in the deep end with him.
"I'm not throwing away the best thing that happened to me." He said sincerely, with fear in his eyes as he looked at you. "I know things are not the best right now, but we endured it and I'm not giving up."
You sniffled, frusteation growing in you as well. "What if I want to get married right away?"
"Then we will get married, tomorrow if you want."
"First you'll have to get permission from the head of the family." You spit back at him.
"I don't care. I've been kicked out, despite being called back from time to time, I call all my choices. I'm marrying you, whether you want it or not, tomorrow or whenever you think it's right." He shrugged. Your jaw clenched.
"What if I was pregnant? What would happen then when you get called back, when she finally wants you openly because she will not want you with another? Where do we end up? Shigure, just understand, for once, things will not change." Your voice had some sincerity, his eyes narrowed at it. Looking at you up and down.
"Are you?" His voice was hoarse, in disbelief.
"I said if I was."
"And I'm asking if you actually are." He just looked at your frown, the veil of tears that was buidling up in your eyes as you shut your mouth in a thin line instead of giving him a proper answer. "You are." He said taking a step towards you, as you took a step back.
"I don't know if I'm keeping it, don't get your hopes up, I'm not raising a child in these conditions." Your words held bitterness. "You didn't even want anything when we started our relationship, you didn't want the committment, I'm sure a child was not in it as well."
"Things changed you know that. For fuck's sake we live together, how do I not want committment? With you? I just told you I'd marry you tomorrow if you want. I'm 28, a child is not going to scare me off and make me break up with you. It's just making me love you more."
Your breathing became visibly irregular from the anger or frustration he didn't know. But you had only given him a reason more to fight for you. "Gure, please." You just cried, breaking. "I am scared." Your head fell down, eyes shutting as you cried.
Despite it, he understood. He understood your fears, he understood that you were scared, you were young, pregnant and in a relationship with a man that it's chained to a woman he grew to despise, and that could not touch fully without becoming a dog.
His gaze softened, walking towards you and leaning his forehead down to the top of your head, the most intimacy he could give you, kissing your head. "I love you. I truly and incredibly am in love with you." His hand slid on top of your flat stomach. Your hand going on top of his. "I'm here with you, just hang with me a little more."
You faced him, lips colliding with yours as you locked in a burning kiss. Your hands quickly pulling down his yukata from his shoulders, pooling on his waist as your nails quickly dug into his skin as always giving him indication of your need for him.
It wasn't long after that you both found yourselves naked on the bed, his cock into you as he dug his fingers into your thighs to keep you down and yours in his shoulders in a position where it didn't trigger it.
His length going in and out of you deeply, whispering sweet things into your ears as you just moaned his name, making something snap in him, something he wasn't quite sure of.
"Mine, mine..." He repeated as changed and pounded from behind you, his hand keeping your head to the side, looking at you fucked out state as he erased any idea of breaking up from your mind.
He felt the pull, growing restless to have his attention, but he just couldn't, he was caught up, he had you, he had you forever, and with you he had a child that was enlarging his own proper family, that tied you in a way that he cannot be tied with anyone else, his dream of a normal life with you and away from everything else.
A tear fell down his cheek as you moaned out his name coming on his cock as he kept going in and out of you sloppily, reaching his own point of release as he came deep in you, spilling his seed in you once again, feeling the knot releasing and something completely breaking in him.
You both panted for air, crying silently and he fell on you, the urge in him to hug you tightly.
So he did, he hugged you.
466 notes · View notes
faith-forgxtten-land · 2 months
Note
If I may oh-so-humbly request smth else:
Bayverse Leo x back scratches/shoulder rubs
How would Fearless react to a partner that is always ready and willing to help him release the tensions that leading his brothers and being a vigilante cause? Maybe his reaction to the first time his gf comes up behind him when he's sitting on the couch, frustrated at something and starts to knead the tightness from his shoulders?
Thanks again💙
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Balm | Leonardo
i'm not kidding when i had a plan to write something along these lines yesterday morning and started writing ideas in my notes app... also, hello, leo's eyes in this gif????
okay this one kind of got away from me i won't lie. even i'm not sure how it ended up how it ended up. so, i'm adding in little headcanons at the start to make up for my detour because i did not expect to get angsty and introspective and barely include what you specifically asked for...
warnings: kind of longer than i thought, i fear it drags. angsty, sad leo, nothing really? fluffy ish too. bad writing that's not proofread. everyone is 18+!! bayverse
summary: leo is tense and brooding but your delicate touch and kind words are what he needs
word count: 1, 375 (incl. headcanons)
.・。.・゜✭・.・���・゜・。.
he's not really expecting it at all
gets extra tense the first time and worries a little that his skin is too rough and his muscles are too hard for your human hands
meditation is the be-and-end-all of "relaxation" for him (and he has a tendency to see it as training and a way of pushing himself even if he enjoys it and it's good for him)
so having someone take care of him in such a tender way without any motivation beyond comfort kind of breaks his brain
his shoulders and neck are wrecked
your hands are so tiny on his body that means you have to massage a lot to reach every spot, right? right? he is obsessed now
feels a bit hesitant to ask for a while at first, but you spoil him and he's easy to read
becomes a ritual for the both of you after he's been out on patrol
but you like doing it any time for comfort and intimacy
it's become habit for you to massage or brush your fingers against his shoulders whenever you pass him by
definitely brings you closer together
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Leo couldn’t remember the last time he slept. His head was pounding, an unrelenting percussion beating across his temples, and he could feel a wave of nausea crashing against his chest, a tell-tale sign that he’d been pushing himself too far. It was a sign that he tended to ignore (foolishly so, a mini voice that sounded suspiciously like Splinter chided). His hands trembled imperceptibly, and he gripped his knees to avoid acknowledging it a little longer.
He must’ve been really out of it because he jumped when he felt a pair of warm hands settle upon his shoulders. A burning shame fanned smoke that clogged his throat, a humiliation stitched into his veins that your touch couldn’t cleanse. “Leo?”
He couldn’t reply, letting himself recline and press gently against your palms instead. “Leo,” you murmured again, and he glanced at you tiredly, normally bright blue eyes hollow with exhaustion. You looked pensive and worried, brows drawn and eyes soft, wearing an old shirt he never wore anyway, and he wanted nothing more than to sooth the anxious lines of your face with the fingers that still grasped his knees. A fresh wave of guilt clawed its way into his gut and nestled there. He was worrying you, he knew, and now you weren’t sleeping either. He had warned you before you’d gotten together of what things would be like. Maybe you didn’t believe him at the time, and he wondered if this was the moment you realised and walked out (or he drove you away).
You’d come into his life when things had been eerily calm, and he’d stupidly felt confident that he could juggle everything and still have you, still indulge in something he had refused to let himself consider a realistic possibility. He knew Raph longed for acceptance and comfort and love, and that, despite his insecurities and anger and hurt, he would never stop dreaming of it. Donnie would envisage it quietly, usually agreeing with Leo’s dismissal of acceptance but privately yearning for it more than he’d ever let his family know (but Leo knew). Mikey wanted it too and wasn’t shy about it; he was so happy and sociable and sunny that it made Leo nauseous to repeatedly shut down dreams of the life he deserved. The thing that made Leo truly sick, sick with the world and with himself, was that Mikey truly believed, even after all these years, that he’d succeed in attaining it.
Leo thought he’d succeeded, thought he’d managed to find the thing that tore his brothers up inside without even looking for it (and that only made him hate himself more, something he would never – could never – bring himself to admit to you). You had only been dating a month, but God, he thought he’d found everything he had always refused himself. Love and acceptance outside of his family weren’t things Leo allowed himself to consider before. As a teenager, he’d meditated over and over to clear those useless longings from his mind. Then you appeared in his life out of nowhere like an apparition, offering solace and tenderness, and he didn’t want to refuse himself those impossibilities anymore.
Perhaps he’d been too hasty, it wasn’t like him to throw caution to the wind, to dive in headfirst. He hadn’t considered the implications enough, had been foolish to think he could be a leader, a hero, a brother, and a lover to you, and now here he was trembling and feeling sorry for himself with your sad eyes watching him and cutting straight to his core.
“Mikey got hurt,” he rasped. He’d let Mikey get hurt, he added silently, and somehow you must’ve heard him.
“Mikey is fine, back in one piece thanks to you,” you shot him a half-smile that made his heart stutter even at a time like this. “He was practically bouncing off the walls when his stitches were finished.” 
Leo didn’t reply.
You placed your hand against his cheek, and he clenched his jaw to stop himself nuzzling into its softness. “It’s not your fault.”
“They’re my responsibility and I failed them,” he said simply. They’re my brothers and I didn’t protect them. “Things are getting worse with the Foot Clan and I–” I don’t know what to do.
Your sad eyes were somehow even sadder, and it made his own sting. He blinked quickly. “You’re not infallible and invincible, Blue; your brothers know that, your father knows that. You do your best.” What happened when his best wasn’t good enough? You clasped his jaw tighter, somehow reading his mind again. “You’re more than good enough, you can’t control everything, and you can’t keep carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.”
The terrapin let you remove his gear, the heavy straps that had been digging into the hardened skin of his shoulders. You pressed soft kisses into the scales, and he closed his eyes at the reverence in your delicate touches as your nails trailed along his shell. “Everything will be okay,” you whispered, the heat of your breath soothing his still-trembling hands and warming his soul. “Your brothers are safe,” another kiss as gentle as moonlight, “I’m safe,” one more to the junction between his shoulder and neck that made his eyelids flutter, “and you’re the most incredible man I’ve ever known.”
Leo hated the shakiness of his breathing, torn between the urge to tense further and wanting to melt into your touch, as your fingers kneaded the strain poisoning his muscles. You pretended not to notice, movements heartbreakingly tender. Had anyone ever been this gentle with him?
“You do more than anyone could ever ask you to. Well,” you amended softly, a hint of fond exasperation colouring your tone, “anyone but yourself.” Your hands continued to work in tandem with your words, one a balm to the aches of his body and the other a balm to the aches your hands couldn’t wash away. “You do so much for this city, for people who won’t ever know it.”
The churrs that rumbled his chest were deep and Leo couldn’t do anything to prevent the unwinding of his limbs and the slowing of his anxious thoughts under the comforting weight of your affection and acceptance. He brought his hand up to clasp one of your own. You were so small it made his heart clench with fear and desire, and for a moment he felt that familiar feeling of inadequacy at his own monstrosity before you chased it away with a loving kiss to each fingertip. He swallowed thickly as you managed to tangle your fingers with his, your hands slotting together with ease. You smiled at him and kissed the top of his head, squeezing his hand, and he pushed himself deeper into your embrace. Looking at your joined hands again, Leo pressed his lips reverently against each knuckle, feeling like if Icarus had somehow managed to cradle the sun. He repeated the kisses once, then twice. Thank you.
You smile wider and he lets you lead him to his bed and your accepting arms.
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merakiui · 5 months
Text
thinking about androids again, but rather than the plot seen in android jade,,,, consider android floyd who is being developed by tech genius idia shroud with input and funding from business magnate azul ashengrotto.
(cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, obsession, vaguely implied non-con/dub-con, android floyd)
He's designed to be a companion for those who are lonely and in need of the company (whether physically or socially). You're just a tired, overworked university student, so it's mind-boggling to you when there's a sleek limousine parked just beyond campus property. Security guards are insisting you come with them because there's someone who'd like to meet you.
In the limo, you find yourself sitting across from Azul Ashengrotto himself. He doesn't bother with flowery introductions, instead cutting to the heart of the matter. You've been randomly selected to help with a very important phase of his and Idia's project. The general idea is to test how well the android interacts with a normal, ordinary person in a monitored setting.
You're very confused. You never signed up for any lottery, and you certainly aren't affiliated with anything of that sort. You're just trying to get through your degree, survive two part-times, and hopefully make enough to keep afloat for another month. Azul tells you this isn't an issue; you'll be generously compensated for your time and efforts. It's only three months; you'll be permitted to live your life as you normally would, only now you'll be accompanied by a highly intelligent android.
Despite hearing all of this, you hesitate when he reveals the lengthy contract. As you flip through it, analyzing each clause and category, Azul says something that piques your interest. "We don't expect you to house an android in your little apartment. Goodness, that's simply ludicrous. We'll provide your housing for these next three months. After all, we must be able to monitor your progress."
"Housing? What do you mean?"
He smiles at you. Backdropped by leather interior, the lights casting odd shadows on his face, he looks near-sinister. But he leans forward to press a ballpoint pen into your hands and the illusion vanishes. "I think you'll find it quite to your liking. If you've finished your classes for the day, why not visit the property with me? Then you may decide whether you wish to participate."
You're not worried about that part. What worries you the most, however, is the fact that he's right. You are finished with classes for the day and you have nothing planned. You took today off from work. Your schedule is perfectly free.
But of course the Azul Ashengrotto wouldn't know that, would he?
The house is a smart home, equipped with every necessity and appliance. Everything's controlled by a remote here. It's not very far from your university either, built on a hill that overlooks houses below. It feels a little isolating and smells very new and clean. Like that fabled new car smell, only it's a house. But everything is so unique to you. Its minimalistic design is oddly cozy, and you can't help but feel enchanted the deeper you venture through the two-story home. It's all so unreal!
Azul gives you the rundown, explains how the remote and each button works. You can lock doors, open and close windows, mess with the thermostat, turn the home security on and off, and even start the oven. You hold the power to this home in the palm of your hands. It's immensely fascinating.
By the end of the tour, you're shaking his hand and signing his contract, agreeing to three months of study. Not only are you provided this nice home, you'll also be paid per week. And the pay is far more than you were making with your two jobs.
The android has a long, tongue-tying serial number, so to make things easier he's named Floyd. They even gave him a surname in preparation for the twin android who is being designed to complement and mirror him. He certainly looks human when you meet him, but there's this uncanny nature to his presence that slightly unnerves you. He's too perfect. Skin too smooth. Eyes too bright. Hair too soft. He towers over you, having to bend down to walk through the doorframe, and every movement he makes is very mechanical and stiff.
Still, you smile at him and offer your hand. "Hi there. I'm (Name). Your...housemate, I guess."
He nods, peering down at your hand before lifting his own. "Floyd Leech. At your service."
You were expecting to feel coldness, so you startle when his hand fits into yours and it's warm. It feels so very real. So deceptively lifelike. You wonder if he can regulate his own internal temperatures. Just how advanced is he?
"Right... Um, I look forward to getting to know you!"
He nods again, releasing your hand after a perfectly timed handshake.
Azul had given you a special number should you need to reach him or Idia. All you needed to do was phone it if at any point you were to feel confused or unsafe. "But I don't think you'll utilize it," he told you when you stood in the lab, watching Idia Shroud flit around to do final maintenance checks to ensure Floyd was ready for his first trial run. His eyes were open the entire time, two mismatched lights centered on you. His stare was listless, but somehow you felt as if he was looking through to your very soul. "He's very safe. In fact, he's programmed to assess and react appropriately to dangers of all kinds. You'll be safe with him around."
And safe you are.
You've always been alone, so it's nice to have a roommate, even if he only speaks when spoken to. It's awkward for all of one week until you ease into his pattern. From various vantage points throughout the house, Idia and Azul watch through hidden cameras. You cook your meals for yourself and Floyd watches, assisting when you order him to. You leave for class and Floyd waits by the door for you to return, standing stock-still for hours.
You lounge in the sitting room and put on all kinds of films. Action. Comedy. Horror. Floyd's eyes never leave the screen. But sometimes he watches you more than he watches the movie, noting all of your reactions. He doesn't understand why you get so emotional over sappy romances. So you explain it simply: "It evokes emotions. We all have emotions, and these movies make us feel them. Happy. Sad. Angry. Upset. Things like that."
But Floyd doesn't feel. Even so, he listens and he nods along, filing your answers away for later dissection. It's interesting.
By the end of the first month, Floyd's adopted new habits. Ever since you told him he's free to do as he pleases, he's taken to cooking your meals for you, doing your laundry, preparing your bag for the day. He's surprisingly good at it. He does chores when you leave for classes or work. And for the first time in a while you're excited to return home, knowing he's there waiting.
Floyd adds new words and phrases to his ever-expanding vocabulary. You watch a lot of TV together and he starts to use some of what he hears in his own speech. He picks up informal language quickly, and it isn't long until he's using words like sup or dunno instead of the rigid how are you? and I am unsure he was previously programmed with.
The first sign of unrest comes when you realize Floyd's also connected to the smart home. At first you didn't think it was a bad thing. After all, with him controlling it you won't have to worry about getting up to grab the remote if you've already sat down. Floyd can do that for you. But then the remote goes missing, later turning up shattered. You ask Floyd what happened and he looks at you and says, "Why use this piece of junk when you've got me?"
"Still... What if you're not able to help? What if you're in sleep mode and I need to open a window or something?" you argue, cradling the splinters of remote like they're an injured baby bird.
"That won't happen," he replies smoothly, issuing you a soothing smile. "I'm always gonna be here for ya. Count on it."
And you do because, by the time the three months are nearing their end and Floyd's developed into quite the companion, more and more human than he's ever seemed, you find yourself stuck.
No, not stuck. That's not quite right. You're more so trapped.
Floyd locks the doors, shutters the windows, turns off the lights. You're cowering in the closet, the only place that feels just a little safe in this moment. You can't reach Azul or Idia either. He's shut the power off, the internet connection, everything. The smart home on the hilltop feels like a tiny island now, and Floyd's the shark always circling it, waiting for you to dip your feet into the depths.
"C'mon, Shrimpy," he calls out, and it's a nickname you were once so fond of because he thought of it himself. "I already told ya I ain't gonna hurt ya. So just come out and talk to me."
You have no idea where you went wrong. Was it too many horror films? Was it the fact that you started to rely so heavily on him for companionship, ignoring your human friends in favor of staying in with Floyd? Or was it because he was blocking their numbers that you never received any messages and automatically assumed they were cutting contact? He said he'd always be here for you, so why to this degree?
The closet doors are thrown open. Floyd drags you, kicking and screaming, out by the ankles. Every camera has gone dark on Azul and Idia's end. All but one. The one in the bedroom. Floyd stares directly at it when he lifts you up and lays you on the bed, gentle and sugary-sweet.
He smiles and waves before that screen blanks out, leaving you truly trapped with him.
And because it's all experimental, morbid curiosity trumping ethical morals, no one comes to rescue you.
Three months is more of an indefinite forever in this lonesome smart home.
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eldritch-spouse · 2 months
Note
Someone who for whatever reason wants to get eaten by Vorticia and so goes to the gluttony ring hoping to find her. They by some miracle get to interact with her but when they beg her to eat them she’s like “lol no,” because it turns out they’re her match
[This is fucking hilarious. Fem reader.]
TW: Macro/micro themes; Vore.
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Tightly tied to a chair, you can hear them talk behind the kitchen doors.
" You're telling me you just found this one trying to break into the premises?! " The short imp you've only caught glimpses of so far sounds exasperated.
" Yes... " The much taller demon with a dark mane replies. " She wasn't very successful, but I'm fairly certain her goal was to get caught. "
" And she said she wants to get eaten. " It's not even a question.
" By mother. Specifically her. "
There's a beat of silence.
" Vorago. You can't expect me to present a fetishist to your mother. That is ridicu- "
" Is it? I would much prefer if my meals walked directly into the plate. " The prince counters. " You're doing the poor thing a favor. I've advocated for this in the past as well, think about the time and resources we could spare during ceremonies if we take in people just like her. "
" My prince- "
" Do you like chasing after them, dad? Do you enjoy spending money on increasingly expensive hunting services? "
Dad?! That little imp? Imp-ressive.
" No, but we can't just- "
" Then give this a shot, perhaps it'll open your eyes to more sustainable alternatives. "
An unmistakable defeated sigh rings out. " ... Fine. "
You smile silently, happy that the tusked high-ranker who caught you managed to get your dream to come true. For such a scary-looking guy, he's actually not that bad.
When the doors part, your head snaps towards the curly-horned imp. They spare you a skeptical glance.
" It looks like you're getting what you want after all. "
" Yes! " The cheer is immediate and juvenile, met with a grimace.
" ... Right. " They're clearly uncomfortable. " Undress please. "
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Words cannot describe how wildly your heart is beating within your ribcage.
You've been dreaming of this day ever since you discovered the nuances of your sexuality. Queen Vorticia is the most gorgeous, regal, seductive demoness to ever slither upon this galaxy and to feel the caress of her tongue would bring you to a level so beyond Nirvana that you have to contain a freakish noise of delight just thinking about it. Not that it would have escaped very fair, with the strange fruit crammed in your mouth- It's starting to hurt your jaw a little actually...
Yes, you're not the most normal of humans, but that hardly matters now.
The cart you're laid upon is wheeled towards what you assume must be the main dining hall of Gluttony's mansion. The pace is slow, the imps in charge of transporting you dare not displace a single element of your large plate's design. See, upon hearing about your situation through the curly-horned imp, the chefs present decided that it would only be fitting if you got properly and excellently decorated for the occasion.
A few of them sympathized with your situation. Few things are as romantic as loving someone so much that you would like to become a part of them, be consumed by them. One of the girls was a bit emotional hearing you talk so sweetly about the Queen. All in all, you feel lucky to have gotten this far so smoothly.
A noise from beyond crashes your train of thought.
A crash. Hissing.
The imps pushing your cart whimper and look at each other fearfully.
Ah, a tempestuous mood. You wonder what has the Queen like that.
Your chaperones slow down even more, and if you could, you'd stomp your foot on the cart to make them hurry up. You're not about to be left stranded in this hall because these cowards are doubting their life's decisions.
Finally, oh finally, you can see the tall, intricately carved doors to the dinning hall. The last room you'll ever be in, if all goes according to plan. The realization breeds a heavy feeling that causes shortness of breath in you, but for some odd reason, you have no second thoughts about any of this. More servants stand stationary, guarding the doors.
At the sight of your cart approaching, said guards hurriedly open the doors much taller than themselves, seeming frantic in the way they hurry everyone inside.
You have to strain your neck to get a good look at the scenery.
Tones of orange, red and gold shower the room, it's large enough to be mistaken for some kind of bombastic ball room- But you've done a bit of research, and you know the dinning areas are the real focus of the Gluttonous Household.
Little does it all matter. You can't bring yourself to focus on anything other than the absolutely gigantic scaled woman currently seated at a massive, tall table. Her sandy yellow scales glimmer under the jeweled chandelier's light, everything from the twin-tipped tail that lounges across the room to her drooping black robe and pupils nearly as sharp as her eyes make you want to swoon, toes curling in delight.
Queen Vorticia reaches down below, you get to watch the demoness grab a flailing, kicking man by the ankles. He's muffled just as you are, but a lot more bruised and roughed up, trying his damndest to scream past an unforgiving muffler. He knows what will happen to him the moment he's raised in the air, as do you. And there's nothing he can do but close his eyes and accept his fate when the bottomless pit that is the Queen's maw stares back.
One second of mind-numbing anticipation is all it takes, then he's gone. Dropped. Her jaw clamping the second the man was submerged. Hardly a lump forms in the column of her long throat before it's over. With neither a scream nor a whimper, his doom arrives. The Queen however, looks unsatisfied. It's almost as if she didn't even eat anything to begin with, frowning at the wall pensively.
Until the platter that man was in goes flying across the room and nearly rips a chunk out of the wall. It was so fast you barely saw the flash of gold before your human eyes.
Two of the imps escorting you scurry beneath the cart for safety.
" I trussst you've brought me ssomething worthh my time? " Her voice finally rings through.
" Y- Yes, your Majesty! " One of them is brave enough to squeak, rattling the cart and everything on it as he pulls it forward, the others sticking to the back.
You can kind of understand them. Vorticia could easily swipe a hand down and capture two or three of these imps as an appetizer.
" Then hurry! Do you wisshh me to starve here?! "
A slam of a powerful fist causes the ground to quake.
" Never, my Queen! "
In a blink, your platter not only lifted off the cart but rushed onto the table, quickly turned and pushed to be in front of the demonlord herself. You almost get dizzy from all the jostling, and as your vision settles, you see the Queen wordlessly wave before scrambling steps follow. The servants nearly trample each other to leave the room alive.
You don't even look their way.
You can only bore holes into the gorgeous woman before you.
Vorticia raises a brow ridge, humming.
When a single claw descends, you imagine she'll slice your skin, peel you like an apple or go for your innards first. Instead, she stabs a tomato next to your waist and brings it to her lips, tongue roping it inside in a blink.
You're sure she can hear your poor heart thunder in its fickle confines.
" You mussst be the human they mentioned earlier. "
You blink.
" Pretty thhhing, wantss to be my dinner... " She nearly purrs, making something stir low in your belly.
At the way you attempt to frantically nod, she actually cracks a smile, incredulous. Although the hunger you've always yearned for resides in her thin eyes, there's also a hint of genuine curiosity you wouldn't typically see in the gaze of such a predator.
" Hmph. Well I hardly buy it. "
" MmMMF! " Even if you had something eloquent to counter with, muffled grunts are all you manage.
" Don't mumble, it'sss rude. "
She begins flirting with the decorations on your platter again. Every single time, you study the movements of her calloused, scaled hands as they move, waiting for the cut that never comes, the grip that never follows, she simply steals bits and pieces of vegetables and frivolous dressing. You're almost offended for a second. But... The anticipation is actually causing some curious effects in you.
In a way, every single time her claws scheme the platter, brushing over the bare skin of your legs and tickling your sides briefly before retreating with a slice of fruit or veggie, she's playing with you. Having her fun, as both an apex predator and a teasing mistress. Fear mingles with sparks of arousal you've poorly contained thus far, creating a fire that has you sweating under her serpentine gaze.
" You're almossst too cute to eat. " She chuckles eventually. Something wooshes nearby, it takes you a moment to notice it's her large tail.
You notice, rather belatedly, that there's no one else in the room but you and Vorticia, and a suspenseful quiet has fallen between you. You could not have asked for a better environment. It feels as if you're both sharing a very intimate, sacred moment.
The next time her hand dips, instead of skirting around the main course, she tip taps her way up your trembling figure and circles a long claw under the swell of your breast, watching you shiver attentively before edging the decorative leaf covering it. A more than pert nipple catches on her sharp extremity, and she uses a thumb to flick it idly, casually, head tilting at the way you squirm and exhale through your nostrils.
Your other breast is easily uncovered as well. The Queen betrays nothing in her expression when she grabs a piece of bread and soaks it in the condiment that coats your skin, dragging it upwards, swirling it around one of your tits before eagerly devouring it.
This is repeated enough times to drive you a little stupid with want, groaning miserably when she merely teases your tits and continues to torture you with featherlite caresses.
The sweet torture continues when she takes care of the rolls covering your spread legs, watching the shameful state you're in become more and more noticeable. Your cunt flutters beneath her mere stare.
" Ssstrange, I've yet to cut you, and you're already dripping. "
You'd shake your head in denial if you weren't able to feel your own soaked folds right now.
She has the mind-numbingly erotic audacity to grab another useless vegetable decoration and generously coat it in your wetness. The rounded tip of whatever she's pressing against your womanhood bumps your clit. She swirls it intentionally, tapping it down and circling the nub with enough pressure that you strain against your binds and whine behind the gag, wanting to beg her for more yet only drooling pointlessly.
She makes a noise like an amused snort, and when you toss your head back, you can hear her practically slurp the thing for all the flavor it has, her thumb replacing the vegetable and leisurely keeping you stimulated.
When you're able to look back, her pupils have blown wide, the black nearly drowning her acidic sclera.
" To thhhink that, ssomehow, suchh a preciouss gift would fall upon my table... Withhout notice... "
Even if you're loving the attention, heating up like a small fire -Probably enough to cook the ingredients around you- You could never have guessed the Queen would take such an intense liking to you. It feels like a dream.
" Do you wisssh to be eaten, my sssweet morssel? " She curves, shadowing you, strings of drool falling onto your neck and chest.
Her hues acquire a nearly hypnotizing quality, prohibiting you from glancing away while she toys with you. All you can respond with is frantic, vapid nodding while you grind yourself down on her finger like a mutt.
" Truly? "
" MMMhmnn!! "
Not even the gag could have curbed that whorish bleating.
" Then I will. " Vorticia grins wide enough to crinkle the edges of her eyes. " Tonight. In my chambersss. Your wissh comess true, in a way. "
You're not given enough time to rationalize anything before her touch vanishes, leaving you cold and miserable. The snaps of the Queen's fingers attract the same imp you met when this all began.
They look at you with a mixture of confusion and mild caution. " You called, Highness? "
" Yess. Run a bathh for me and my Queen to be. "
He coughs and chokes.
When your head snaps to Queen Vorticia, you find no hint of mockery on her face.
You're fairly certain one of the sauces you were doused in must be causing you to hallucinate...
130 notes · View notes
doll-elvis · 6 months
Text
PRISCILLA (2023)
~ my thoughts as an elvis fan
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(credit to @urpinkstargirl for the photo)
WARNING SPOILERS AHEAD:
so I saw it last night and I’ve been stewing on it ever since as I wanted to be 100% sure in myself before saying this publicly
**brace yourselves**
After just one viewing… I feel confident in saying that I preferred this film over “Elvis” 2022 🤧. It was just so immersive and so deeply intimate that I walked away from the theater feeling like I had just lived a life with Elvis, and experienced all the ugly and wonderful things that came with it
I am seeing it again tonight and possibly tomorrow just to recapture that feeling (which made me cry… three times…)
And although I’m not the biggest fan of Sofia Coppola, there is simply no denying that she has perfected showing “girlhood” in film, and making the most unique experiences, like being Marie Antoinette and being Priscilla Presley, somehow universal to everybody. I haven’t felt being “14” since I was 14, which was a whole 5 years ago, but WHEW… I most definitely felt 14 again when watching Priscilla navigate life in Germany
Also- we all saw how Austin Butler was completely cheated out of an Oscar and so I’m begging that we do not do that again. Give the Oscar to Cailee Spaeny (who played Priscilla) right now 😤 There are no words besides “immaculate” to describe her performance. Her future is so bright as an actress, I just cannot wait to follow her career + she just seems like the sweetest person ever??
And I know it might seem insane to say that I preferred “Priscilla” over “Elvis” and some of y’all might crucify me for that take but my preference solely comes down to the fact that I appreciate Priscilla’s perspective much more so than the Colonel’s, who to me, has always been the least interesting aspect of Elvis’ story
My biggest gripe with having the Colonel narrative/tell Elvis’ life in the 2022 film is the fact that it made the film feel rather impersonal to Elvis as I don’t think the script or the storytelling ever fully allowed for Austin Butler to explore what he was like beyond the stage
And personally speaking, I have a much deeper love for Elvis the person as opposed to Elvis the performer, and I think that “Priscilla” showed the human side of him far more than “Elvis” ever did (like y’all we actually get to hear and see him reading his philosophy books in this!!!)
But before I get into what was actually depicted in film, and all my praises, I thought I would briefly state what I thought could have been done better. Don’t get me wrong, this movie was beyond amazing, however, it was definitely not without its’ faults:
1. If you have seen a lot of reviewers talk negatively about the pacing in this film- just know that they are unfortunately, completely right in that assessment. The whole timeline of Germany felt literally five minutes long, and the 70s also, felt maybe 10 minutes long which just made both the beginning and end feel rather rushed. Also there were at least 5 scenes that just faded to black before going onto the next one, and some very abrupt cuts in scenes which felt a bit awkward
2. Because this is a biopic, and because it’s based on a real life, there is no climax like you would be accustomed to normally in a film and so I think that the average viewer, like someone who may not really care about Priscilla or Elvis, will probably walk away from the film feeling unsatisfied- possibly bored. I saw it with my mom and my sister, and my mom was asleep in like 45 minutes 😭. The movie definitely got repetitive at some points but I acknowledge the fact that life is repetitive, especially for Priscilla in the 60s while Elvis was off making movies
3. While Priscilla (played by Cailee Spaeny) aged realistically and seamlessly, Elvis (played by Jacob Elordi) was essentially the same person (physically) for 95% percent of the film. For some reason, his hair was already dyed black in the Germany scenes, although we know it was brown at that time, and so there was no real transformation for him until Lisa Marie is born. The height of the actor was definitely jarring at first but eventually I got used to it…however…I damn near busted out laughing when they showed him in the Comeback special outfit 💀 His performance was nothing but incredible (ESPECIALLY THE VOICE) and so I learned to get over the physical disparities rather quickly
4. The ending of this film, particularly the song, was overwhelmingly sad and impactful but I was really disappointed that we didn’t get to see Priscilla’s and Elvis’ relationship after the divorce. This film ends with Priscilla leaving Graceland, starting her “new life”, which didn’t make much sense to me considering this movie was adapted from her book, which very much explores that part of her life, especially with Elvis
I would have really love to seen moments like this from Priscilla’s perspective ⬇️
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excerpt from “Priscilla, Elvis and me” (avoid this book)
5. NO CIRCLE G RANCH!!! It is borderline criminal to make a film about Priscilla and Elvis and to not include their time spent at Circle G ranch ** which Priscilla has always said were their happiest times together **. I assume that this was likely an issue because of the budget and the fact that they only had 30 days to film but god… I would have really appreciated some of the domestic bliss that Priscilla and Elvis shared while living in the trailer on the ranch. There were many happy moments/sequences (y’all are going to die when you see the rollerblading/go cart scenes) in this movie, but I think their gradual separation/withdrawal from one another (post marriage) would have hit harder if we saw how happy they were together during their ranch phase
6. For those who have read “Elvis and Me”, we all know about the famed LSD scene that takes place and unfortunately, Coppola heavily missed the mark on it. We don’t see Lamar Fike making out with a tree, we don’t see Jerry Schilling in a closet- instead we see Priscilla and Elvis just kind of rolling around, laughing amongst themselves while the room around them turns different colors
There were definitely many key moments/stories like that missing from the film, and I honestly wish that the movie was an hour longer so that we could have seen the book more fully fleshed out
Lastly, here’s just a general synopsis of the scenes in Germany… I was going to do the whole movie but I don’t have the stamina to type it all out 😭. If y’all want to know something specific please feel free to comment below and I will let you know <3!!
After the beginning credits are shown, the film starts with Currie Grant (who was renamed as Terry West) approaching Priscilla in a diner, inviting her to a party at Elvis’ house. After talking with her parents and assuring them that Priscilla will be looked after by him and his wife, it cuts to her in the back of a car, on her way to meet Elvis. The scene is exactly like how it is in the book, Elvis asks her how old she is, he remarks that she is “just a baby” and so on- Elvis then plays “a Whole lotta shakin” at the piano and that is one of three musical performances we see from him
Priscilla is then re-invited by Currie aka Terry via Elvis to comeback to the house again. Elvis invites Priscilla up to his room, she looks around and sees letters from Anita Wood, and a poster of Bridgette Bardot just like in the book. After Elvis talks about Gladys and how he is still reeling over her death, and how lonely he has felt since then, they share their first kiss to the song “Crimson and Clovers”
There are some scenes of Priscilla at school and some scenes of her sort of convincing her parents to let her continue to see Elvis. And they do agree, but just like in the book, they want to meet him first. Elvis is questioned by Priscilla’s father on why he wants to be with her to which Elvis replies that she is very mature for her age and that he likes talking to her since she is from home aka the United States. He then assures Priscilla’s father that she will be taken care of. After that we see them going to the movies where Elvis expresses how much he wants to be a serious actor, and then they share another kiss on the car ride home. It then cuts to Christmas time where we see Elvis giving Priscilla a watch and then BOOM- Elvis and her are on the way to the airport where they say their final goodbyes as he leaves for the United States
The film really does follow closely to the book (at least from 59’ when they meet to 69’- again the 70s were really rushed) and so I really recommended to read that prior to watching the movie
As for the more sensitive scenes-
There is no explicit sex, no graphic nudity, and no scene where Elvis forces himself upon Priscilla. He does say “this is how a real man makes love to his woman” but all he does is kiss her before she pushes him off. There is a rather long “polaroid-taking” sequence where it shows all the outfits that Elvis would Priscilla dress up in but other than that, we only see Elvis and Priscilla make out
And it did show when Elvis accidentally hit Priscilla in the eye during the pillow fight scene in her book, along with the scene of him throwing a chair in her general direction after she expressed she didn’t like a demo of one his songs, and the scene where he grabs all her clothes from the closet and tells her that she should go visit her parents. I don’t think that the scenes made Elvis look abusive: Coppola was surprisingly nuanced in showing that he had reasons for his sometimes bad temperament i.e the pills he took along with the fact that he was frustrated with his film career
It also shows Elvis’ infidelities but really only through movie magazines that Priscilla sees. So it’s never explicitly shown, I would say it’s more hinted at than anything
And there are two scenes of Priscilla with Mike Stone but again, nothing that is explicitly shown, it’s just hinted at
Finally, to finish this up, this is what I wrote on my Instagram account which I very much stand by ⬇️
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Just please give this movie a chance y’all, it was so beautiful and so sensitively done… I cannot wait to watch it again <3
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semisolidmind · 1 year
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so i had an idea based on a horror manga i read forever ago
(not sure what to call this)
Emi Saito, a college student, lives a normal life with her nurse aunt and older sister, Kami... Until Kami, a famed geneticist, dissapears. A few months after, a horrible, unbelievable outbreak occurs;
All of Japan's regional and corporate mascots have become real, living beings, and many of them have a thirst for human blood.
Panic and terror rule the streets as hundreds of adorable (and not so adorable) mascots swarm and kill any human they come across. While there seem to be a few exceptions, most of the mascots are maliciously murderous. There doesn't seem to be a way to kill them either. Bullets, fire, acid, explosives...nothing fazes them. They regenerate at super speeds and bounce back seemingly no matter what.
Emi witnesses her aunt die trying to protect the patients at her clinic.
With no one left to turn to, Emi flees the city on her own, somehow managing to dodge the many mascots that prowl the streets. She makes her way to the countryside, attempting to find shelter or survivors. Eventually she's cornered by a small pack of wandering mascots, but just before they can take a bite out of her, she's saved by a rough-looking dog mascot.
He introduces himself as Uzu, the mascot of a small seaside fishing village. He asks Emi if she can cook, she says yes, and he whisks her (somewhat unwillingly) away to the village to be his lil' housewife- I mean maid! Housemaid!
Things are tentatively peaceful for the two for a while. Uzu is happy to have company-whohappentobereallycute-who can cook fish, and Emi is just happy to be alive and safe (even if her roomie is a bit terrifying).
Until some mail arrives for Emi. Her sister is alive, and is calling her to return home.
Uzu, who's come to care deeply for Emi (far beyond his stomach) doesn't trust the letter, and urges her to stay with him. They've built a good life here, he reasons, why rock the boat? But Emi insists. Her sister might still be alive, she has to know for sure. Uzu relents. He'll go with her, ever loyal, and kinda wanting to see the city for himself.
So they go, making their way across the countryside, fighting mascots and rogue humans along the way. When they get to the city, it lies mostly empty, ravaged and bloodied by the mad mascots. Emi, remembering her time before meeting Uzu, is now a bit reluctant.
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