#slight spoilers since this is in post canon?

[confused-pyramid]

Breaking Point

pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: You and Art were hitting partners (and a bit more) in college, so when you run into him a decade later at the U.S. Open, old sparks reignite...

word count: 3.4k

warnings: SMUT, p in v, oral (fem!receiving), slight marking, drinking

a/n: I watched Challengers last night and then wrote this whole thing in one sitting. Nothing in this is really canon other than Art being a major simp lol so no spoilers for the movie! I usually make playlists (or at least find a few songs that get me in the zone) when writing, so I thought I'd start sharing them here too if people are interested!

You should've known he'd be here. You've been following his career for the last decade since you graduated, and ever since he won Wimbledon last year, he's been tennis royalty, but a small part of you still thought you wouldn't run into him here. At the fucking U.S. Open.

Stanford was a lifetime ago, and you haven't kept in touch with anyone from the college team, but there was always something about Art Donaldson that stuck with you. Ten years later, that hasn't changed.

"It's been so long," he calls out when he spots you from across the practice courts. "I didn't think I'd see you."

You didn't either, and you still haven't decided how you feel about it yet, but when he jogs over to your side, you just shrug. "Guess it's your lucky day."

He smiles, and his teeth glimmer in the bright sunlight. "It certainly is."

The loud thwacks of tennis balls hitting rackets echo around you, but you can't seem to focus on anything but the man standing in front of you. He looks good.

He was beautiful in college too, whether he was training across the net or slipping into your bed, but it feels different now, with so much time apart. He looks like a man now.

"Anyway," Art says, jerking you back to reality. "We should get a drink sometime. To catch up."

He adds the last part almost as an afterthought, but it doesn't escape your notice how his eyes have been trailing up and down your body since he walked over.

A drink could mean almost anything with Art Donaldson, but you're too curious to refuse. "Sure. This weekend, after the semi-finals."

He nods, his eyes glinting with amusement, and you grab your bag from the bench beside you before looping the strap over your shoulder.

You walk off the practice courts after one last glance over your shoulder, and you feel his eyes following along until the doors swing shut behind you.

***

He should've expected this. You were a firecracker in college, and you kept him on his toes every single day you were together, so he really should have known what he was getting into when he met you for drinks that weekend.

Instead, he's one too many beers in, and his buzz is only enhancing the glow of your beauty in the hazy bar light. Your dress isn't even that low cut, but something about the shadows glancing over your strong shoulders reminds him of late nights in the Stanford dorms after a hard practice when there was only one thing he wanted more than sleep.

"You played really well this morning," he says genuinely as he sets his beer back onto the table. "After that first set, Mueller didn't stand a chance."

You flash him a dazzling smile as you shrug, resting your chin on your palm. "I had her after the third game, but thanks. It was a quick match."

Art hasn't taken his eyes off of you since you sat down, and while prolonged eye contact usually makes you nervous, you find that you're actually enjoying the attention quite a bit. Attentiveness was never an issue with him, and you would normally give in to your urges, but there's just too much history with him, and you can't afford to lose focus. Not when the title is so close you can taste it.

"I hear the networks are eyeing you for a commentator post," you say, trying to change the subject.

You trace your finger around the rim of your nearly empty margarita, before lifting it to take a final sip, and you don't miss how his throat bobs as you lick the salt off your lips.

"Uh, yeah," he mumbles, clearing his throat. "It was just some chatter, but I'm not looking to retire anytime soon."

You frown. "Is that right?" He's playing better than ever, but he definitely hasn't been himself out on the court in years.

He glances down, clearly trying to avoid the scrutiny, and when his eyes land on your empty glass, he changes the subject again. "You want another drink?"

You shake your head, knowing that another will lead to a less than fun morning, but he isn't done yet.

"You sure?" His eyes find yours again, and this time the eye contact feels primal. "It doesn't have to be here."

Your eyebrows lift and you tilt your head with a knowing smile. "Where were you thinking?"

"I don't know," he shrugs, before his lips curve up into a cheeky grin. "My room's nice."

You saw it coming from a mile away, but it still pulls a laugh out of you. "Oh, I'm sure it is, but this isn't college anymore, Art. You should get some sleep...focus on your match in the morning."

You push your glass forward and stand up, nodding at him as you turn to leave, but then you see him stand too out of the corner of your eye.

"I'll walk you to your car."

He looks at you with a hint of amusement in his expression, and you can't help but want to play along, even though Art Donaldson was nothing but trouble for you.

You don't respond, instead just stepping out from around the table and walking out the front doors of the bar. You don't have to turn back to know he's right behind you, and when you reach your car, parked in the center of the nearly empty parking lot, you spin around.

He doesn't stop walking until he has you practically boxed in by your driver's side door, his face less than a foot from yours as he tucks his hands into his pockets.

He had pushed his sleeves back at some point in the night, from the humid summer heat of the bar, and you can see the veins on his forearms now, under the dim light of the street lamps.

"This is me," you say jokingly, tipping your chin at your car as he looks at you with an expression you can't distinguish. "I'm good from here."

He doesn't move.

It's not that you expected him to give up so easily; you had just forgotten how persistent he could be.

Art's mouth stretches into a slanted smile. "Do you remember the Davis Invitational? Junior year."

Speaking of his persistence...he had been pursuing you for months, not in any tangible way, but you always knew what he was thinking.

After the invitational, where you and Art had been the respective men's and women's champions, you had gone back to his dorm to celebrate. Three hours and just as many vodka shooters later, he had finally gotten you in his bed. Not that you were complaining.

Art knew his way around your body, and even that first night, he had managed to get you off more times than you can remember.

"What about it?" you shoot back, your eyebrows raising at the insinuation.

"Nothing," he says with a shrug, but you don't miss the humor glinting in his eyes. "You just used to be a lot more fun to celebrate with."

"Fuck you," you spit out, shoving his shoulder harder than you mean to. He barely budges, instead grabbing your hand and tugging you a few inches closer, and suddenly a wave of lust washes over you, making your breath hitch.

You press your thighs together under your dress, hoping he can't feel the heat spreading across your skin, but then his smile turns to a smirk and you know you're done for.

"What do you think?" he whispers, leaning in so close that his lips brush over your earlobe. "Want to celebrate?"

Molten lava pools in your gut and you are only peripherally aware of his hand sliding down your hips to the flowy edge of your dress. His fingers glide over your skin as his hand goes under the loose fabric, before rising up to grab your ass, drawing your hips flush with his.

Your arousal is already starting to soak through your panties, but the feeling of his hard bulge pressed up against you sends you flying back to reality.

You lift your hands to his chest and push him back so that he's a few steps away from you. It's not far enough, but at least you can't feel him from there. "I'm not fucking you, Art."

He shrugs, his smirk only slightly shaken. "Who said anything about fucking? I just wanted to talk."

You huff out a laugh. "You're funny. Besides, I'm too tired for this. I need to rest up before my match."

"What about tomorrow night then?" His lip is still curved up in a smirk, but there's an earnestness in his gaze that surprises you.

"What makes you think you'll still be here tomorrow?"

His mouth spreads into a wide smile. "I always win."

You snort. "Fine. Win your match and we can talk."

You don't miss the grin on his face as you climb into your car and leave.

***

You win your next match in straight sets again, so by the time you're out of the locker room, Art's match is still in play. Driven by a mixture of curiosity and intrigue, you head over to his court and find a seat halfway up the stands.

He has won two of three sets, and he's leading the fourth, so with the prospect of the match ending soon, you use the time to observe him from a different angle.

His form is much better than it was in college, and you've seen him play countless times on TV, but you haven't really let yourself see how good he looks out there. The sinewy muscles rippling in his arms as he lifts them to serve. The rugged sturdiness of his legs as he races back and forth across the court.

You wish you could be down there with him, running your hands over the smooth lines of his abdomen, tasting the drops of sweat as they roll down his body-

The crowd erupts in cheers, and you are thrust back into reality as Art throws his arms into the air with a loud whoop. The scoreboard confirms his victory, and you clap along with the audience as he shakes his opponent's hand and heads over to his chair.

People around you stand up to leave, but you stay in your seat, watching as he grabs his bag and stuffs his rackets inside. When he wipes a towel over his face, his head turns up and his eyes immediately go to you, like he knew you were here the whole time.

Your stomach does an involuntary flip and he flashes his eyebrows at you as you bit the inside of your lip, trying to hold back a smile.

When he ducks back down to grab his things, you stand up quickly to avoid letting him see your blush and follow the rest of the crowd off of the stands.

***

You hear it late that night. Three little raps on your hotel room door, just before midnight.

You're in the finals, and you don't have any friends here to celebrate with, so you were sipping a beer and watching old match recordings when you heard the knock.

There's no one else who would come to see you this late, so you're not surprised when you open the door to find Art, dressed in a tee shirt and comfy-looking pajama pants.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, even though you already know the answer.

Art just looks at you, his pupils already massive. "You said if I win, we could talk." He shrugs. "I won."

"Okay," you concede, opening the door wider to let him in. "Just talking then."

He nods, before following you inside and shutting the door.

"You want anything to drink?" you ask as he trails behind you.

He shakes his head. "I'm good."

You grab your beer bottle from the side table and sit down on the floor, crossing your legs beneath you.

Art sits across from you, his feet in front of him and his elbows on his knees. You were assigned to a modestly sized room, but for someone as tall as him, the space must feel cramped.

"How did the match feel?" you ask, taking a swig of beer.

He thinks for a moment. "It was close at first, but once I shook my legs out, it became a breeze."

"Your legs were never the problem," you say, leveling him with a serious look. "It was always your attitude. Or your confidence."

He frowns, his eyebrows scrunching slightly. "I'm plenty confident."

"You are now," you tell him as you swirl the bottle around in your hand. "You won Wimbledon, you have a reason to be confident."

That makes him smile. "So you're saying my legs are fine."

"Yeah," you say before you can process what you're saying. "You looked good out there."

His smile turns to a smirk so fast it nearly gives you whiplash. "You think I look good?"

You let out an exasperated scoff. "At tennis."

His grin doesn't falter so you roll your eyes at him before lifting the bottle to your lips to take another swig. When you tilt the bottle back down to swallow, his hand reaches forward to take it from you. Your grip on the beer doesn't loosen, so the motion sends you pitching forward.

Your mouth parts with a small yelp as his arm wraps around you, tugging you closer, and before you can process what's happening, his lips are on yours.

If you let yourself think too hard, you would realize that there is way too much shared history and way too much baggage here for this to be a good idea...so that's why you don't.

Instead, you let him pull your body flush against his and when his tongue slides over the seam of your lips, you grant him access immediately. Your shirts come off in quick succession and you gasp as his hands run up and down your body, his strong, calloused fingers grasping at every inch of purchase they can find. Yours reach up to tangle in his messy hair, and when his lips move down your neck, your grip tightens, making him moan quietly against your skin.

Something about being on the floor takes you back to your college days, when you'd both be so worked up after practice that you couldn't even make it to the bed, but that feels too real right now.

"Art," you whisper as he runs his lips and teeth over your neck, before replacing it with his tongue to soothe the quickly blossoming marks. "Art, the bed. Now."

It takes him a second to process your words, but when he does, he loops an arm around your waist and lifts you up and onto the bed in one motion, before pushing you back onto the covers.

By the time your head hits the bed, he's already pulling your shorts and panties down, exposing you to the cool air. His lips follow the path of his hands as they trace up your legs, making you squirm under the hot touch of his rough fingers. He presses wet kisses to the insides of your thighs before spreading them apart and dropping to his knees on the floor in front of you.

"So wet for me," he whispers, almost to himself, before he dives in, his mouth making lewd noises as he licks a thick stripe up your core. "You taste so good."

He lifts your legs over his shoulders to give himself some leverage as he makes a mess between your thighs, licking and sucking your clit into his mouth before fucking you with his tongue.

His grip on your thighs is the only thing keeping you pinned to the bed as you writhe beneath him, trying to not squeeze your legs together from the heat spreading up your core.

His mouth feels amazing and it takes only minutes before you're already nearing the edge. You don't want to come until he is inside of you, though, so you yank his hair, pulling him up and off of you.

He looks up at you through his lashes, and he looks ethereal with his disheveled hair and his chin wet with your slick.

You, on the other hand, look like heaven itself with your eyes half-hooded from pleasure, and he can't help the grin that crosses his face as he licks his lips and climbs over you onto the bed. He lets you taste yourself as he kisses you again, and he lets out a low groan when you bite his lip just hard enough to sting.

"Fuck me," you gasp, your voice too breathy to be actually authoritative. "Fuck me the way I like."

Art grins at your desperate tone and the wild lust in your eyes, committing this image to memory for a later time when you're much further away.

He kicks his pants off as he lifts you both further up the bed, and after covering himself with a condom from his back pocket, he lines himself up and slowly pushes forward.

He gives you a few moments to adjust to his size before slowly pulling out nearly all the way and then thrusting in again.

The slight pain turns to pleasure almost immediately, but he keeps his pace steady so as not to hurt you. You need more right now, so you wrap your legs around him for leverage and flip him over so that you're straddling him.

He groans as his head hits the pillow, and when he tries to sit up, you press your hands to his chest, pushing him down as you ride him. This position gives you a lot more control, and you use it to your advantage as you bounce yourself on his cock, feeling the way he fills you up so fully from this higher angle.

His fingers dig into your hips as he helps lift you up and down, and his eyes are practically feral as he watches the spot where his cock disappears inside of you.

He's the perfect size to fill you up completely, and with each swivel of your hips, you get closer and closer to your climax, which is approaching so fast you can taste it.

You cry out when he hits exactly the right spot deep inside of you, and his eyes fly to yours as your movements start to stutter from your impending release.

Needing to see the look on your face when you come, he pushes your lower back forward so you fall against his chest, before lifting himself up to meet you halfway. With one arm locked around you, he brings his other hand down between the two of you to rub quick circles over your clit. The new angle lets him thrust up into you, and the increased pace of his movements mixed with the speed of his fingers sends you flying over the edge.

Your mouth falls open with a loud cry, and you squeeze him so tightly he's practically seeing stars. You look so beautiful when you come, like a goddess sent down here just for him, and when your eyes meet his, he finds his own climax.

His body jerks forward with the force of his release, and you let him thrust a few more times as he finally finishes inside of you.

After pulling out, he tugs you down to lay next to him, and at first you let him, but the emotions warring inside of you don't stay quiet for long.

You know that whatever this was isn't going to go anywhere. You didn't work in college, and you won't work now, and you don't want anyone to get hurt again, so you have to make a choice. Now.

"I need to get some rest," you say quietly, a tiny part of you hoping he doesn't hear you. "Before the next match."

"Yeah," he sighs after a beat. "Me too."

You let him hold you for a moment longer, before he unwraps himself from your body and sits up, tugging his shirt and pants back on. You tug the sheet back and wrap it around your torso as he stands up and walks to the door.

You're not sure what you're expecting as he goes to leave, but what you get is a silent nod as the door swings shut behind him.

#art donaldson smut #art donaldson #challengers #challengers smut #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x fem!reader #challengers fanfiction #art donaldson x female reader #art donaldson x you

[von-leg]

I think this has been done already but I didn’t know that when I made this 😭

#dungeon meshi spoilers #slight spoilers since this is in post canon? #dungeon meshi #dunmeshi fanart #leg art #comic #shitpost #marcille donato #laios touden #kabru #ok guys new tag ngl idk why i even tagged spoilers its so vague LMFAOO

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。09:08 AM — GOJO SATORU.

contents. manga spoilers, satoru keeps the scars bc that’s character development ok, post canon, insecure! gojo / reverse comfort, you sit on his lap, ig angst to fluff, embarrassingly cheesy look away pls :,)

satoru, since he’s come home with those scars, has always evaded your hand. you’ve tried a few times, have reached out to cup those cheeks you miss holding—but he’s managed to grab your hand and kiss it every time.

it’s smooth—like everything else he does, satoru dodges your touch smoothly. with an easy grin. with a teasing glint. it’s slick and all too natural, and almost undetectable. but you know him better. you know him better than anyone has had the pleasure of knowing him, you like to think. and you know that satoru doesn’t let your hand meet his cheek, not even the edge of his jaw, on purpose.

“good morning,” you smile, reaching forward to lay a hand over his face. satoru, with his eyes still closed (as expected), grabs your hand and plants a soft kiss to the back as he hums.

you’re almost certain he can sense the way your lips tug into a frown.

“mornin’ sweetheart,” he says lowly, “watching me sleep? that’s a bit creepy,” he teases.

“i can’t help it,” you hum, “you’re too handsome.”

this is rare—giving satoru compliments easily is rare. usually, you make him work for them, keep him waiting on the tips of toes before finally giving him that praise you know will go straight to his inflated ego. but sometimes, like now, you think he deserves to hear it—unfiltered and raw and filled with truth.

satoru is handsome. always has been. always will be.

“aw,” he cracks an eye open, “maybe i should let myself get scratched up a bit more. maybe you’ll talk nice to me more often.”

“i mean it, toru,” you frown, insisting, “you’re handsome. so handsome.”

your hand reaches for his face again. he turns his head this time, feigning a yawn as he stretches before sitting up. there’s a slight bit of tension in the air now, his lips tighter in his smile as he hums before turning to you and poking your nose.

“well, aren’t you sweet,” he smiles almost bitterly.

you haven’t seen his smile reach his eyes for a while. he doesn’t meet your gaze through the mirror in the mornings as you brush your teeth together anymore, doesn’t wink at your reflection and make you roll your eyes. he doesn’t spam your camera roll with pictures of himself anymore when you’re in the bathroom, doesn’t leave you with those silly faces and smug grins that make good wallpapers. he doesn’t even crack those annoying jokes anymore, doesn’t whine for you to admit he’s the most handsome guy you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting as his face digs into your neck.

instead, satoru dodges your touch. he kisses you briefer these days, avoids looking in the mirror, smiles like he has to—not like he finds a reason to.

“you don’t believe me?” you ask gently, furrowing your brows, “you know i’d never lie to you.”

“i didn’t say that, did i?” he asks, waving a hand casually. “c’mon let’s go brush our teeth. you don’t wanna kill me with that morning breath do you—”

“satoru, you’re still handsome, you know,” you say gently. you decide to rip the bandaid off as you add, “even with these.”

for the first time, your hand manages to reach for his face without him pulling away. you think it’s more out of surprise than anything, that it’s because he wasn’t expecting you to be so straightforward instead of trying to be subtle like usual. for a second, you think he might just put his infinity up—but he doesn’t ever. not around you.

but you can see it, the way his knuckles twitch a little like he’s clenching them. the way he’s so still, it’s almost like he’s willing himself not to tense. the way he doesn’t even lean into your touch like he always does.

he doesn’t want your hand on his face, but you stroke a thumb over a scar anyway, cupping his cheek as you study his face up close.

it’s still him—still satoru with that sharp nose and those rosy cheeks, still satoru with those long lashes and perfect jawline. there’s rough, marred bits of skin that meet soft, supple ones. you feel over the dips of where each scar starts slowly, committing each one to memory.

they’re newer parts of him, ones you don’t know very well yet, ones that remind you of the ugliest parts of the world—but they’re a part of satoru now, and anything that’s a part of satoru can never be ugly. no matter where they come from, no matter what they’re a reminder of.

not if it’s him.

“you think so?” he asks with a tight grin, “is my money maker still money making?”

“don’t be greedy,” you quip, “you have plenty of money.” and then, softly, you add, “but i’d pay a good fortune or two to wake up to this every day.”

“good thing i give it to you for free,” he hums, “i’m generous, you know?”

“what a catch,” you grin, “generous, strong, rich,” you list, making an amused grin stretch across his lips, “handsome,” you add. his smile falters a bit at that. “satoru, i’m serious.”

“oh, i love when you get all serious,” he whistles. he’s deflecting—you expect him to, but you’re not backing down. one leg swings over his hips, and then you’re climbing onto his lap, right there where he can’t avoid you. but he finds his attention to your lips, still smooth as ever as he avoids meeting your eyes.

“satoru—”

“oh? you want to do this already? it’s barely—” he makes a show of glancing at the clock before turning back to you with a suggestive grin, “—nine am. but i guess we can have a little fun before—”

“i don’t care about these, you know,” you murmur, pulling your head back when he leans in for a kiss. your finger lightly traces the scar by his left cheekbone, making him frown.

“see? you’re basically admitting you have to look past them,” he groans frustratedly—it’s the first time satoru’s acknowledges his scars. it’s the first time he’s finally let himself look upset without trying to hide it behind a forced grin and a dry chuckle.

“i don’t,” you frown, “sure, they’re new,” you admit softly, “and i don’t like being reminded you got hurt. but they’re not ugly—you’re always pretty.”

“there’s so many,” he mumbles, “they’re everywhere.”

“i think they’re cool,” you shrug, “they make you look tougher. less like a spoiled princess.”

“hey,” he pouts, “i’m not spoiled.”

“you’re a bit spoiled,” you chuckle, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck—his lips quirk up, and you can’t help but notice how real it looks for once. “but i suppose you deserve it. not because you’re handsome though. because you deserve good things—just for being you,” you insist.

his lips are quivering a bit, and he’s blinking faster now. you ignore it, though, taking your sweet time as you lean down and kiss along the edges of every scar on his face, tracing your lips along where the old skin meets new.

“that’s cheesy,” he mutters, “now you sound like a therapist.”

“i mean it,” you say firmly, “and i meant it when i said you’re handsome too.“

“handsomest guy you’ve ever met, right?” he bats his lashes—they’re a bit hopeful, though, and you smile as you gently kiss the corner of his mouth before nodding.

“definitely,” you nod, “you’re the prettiest.”

“am i?” he grins, “now i’m more spoiled. who’s fault is that really?”

“i’ll allow it for today,” you snort, “today you can be spoiled. i’ll humble you tomorrow.”

“we’ll see,” he hums.

your hands cup his cheeks as you lean down for a kiss, and satoru’s hands clasp over them gently, holding them in place—and when you kiss him delicately, like the sun meets the moon as your lips touch, like your world revolves around him as you pull him closer, you think satoru is unfairly handsome.

and you’ll have to remind him that a bit more often.

he’s my liddol sourpatch :(

#teepods.writings #drabbles. #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk angst #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen angst

[cyjammy]

Vox and Alastor’s Dynamic is so FUN

Hazbin Hotel Season 1 Episode 2 Spoilers ahead!

I have to talk about Vox and Alastor’s “rivalry”. I love how Alastor just couldn’t care less, he’s witty, he’s emotionless and that makes him all the more powerful.

Well, not emotionless since he does express outward disgust towards anything digital, but the fact he can keep himself composed because he knows he is the shit and that’s what makes him my absolute favorite.

That showed through in the pilot and the show didn’t fail to deliver. I love how he’s handled. Viv’s characterization is wonderful.

Most fics I have read with Alastor have shown him as vunerable despite the story never alluding to that and it’s such a breath of fresh air to have canon content of Alastor being his authentic self.

My god do I love a character that’s strong and not swayed by emotion, but they can be handled well too. I.E. VOX oh my god. Every fanon had him pegged down as the victim to Val’s wrath, but he’s the mastermind behind the scenes. A complete subversion of everyone’s expectations. And that’s for another post I’m about to go crazy on, but I digress.

Vox is a man up in his ivory electronic tower with villainous intentions, but he falls short because of emotion!

Handling Velvet’s demands to get Val together? A quick pep talk with himself and he’s got it.

Addressing unforeseen circumstances with concerned sinners? Easy.

But Alastor?

He sees RED. He let Valentino have it when he even thought about going on a rampage over a sinner under his thumb.

When it comes to Alastor, Vox goes on a hate campaign and makes a fool of himself.

Meanwhile, Alastor was minding his business, and Vox couldn’t deal with that.

So much so he causes a blackout in the Wrath ring!

Why? Because of his rejection sensitivity.

He is this all powerful overlord with companions in his rule and when he asks someone of similar station to become his equal he gets rejected.

It’s unheard of for him. He cannot fathom it.

Because that makes Alastor a factor he cannot control.

Val says that Alastor “almost beat him”. Val may not have witnessed that fight and Vox spun it around to claim he came out on top.

But if he did, he definitely wouldn’t let Alastor get away.

Valentino and Vox have known each other for a long time, as shown in a photo in the background in the episode.

So either this spat began before they had met and Vox lied or Valentino witnessed it. I'm excited to see which way that goes.

In terms of influence, Alastor seems to win that battle. Vox is in charge of electrical currents and anything in the digital space.

Alastor is so far removed from that Vox has no influence over him. He refuses to be involved with new technology.

But with Vox having an army of sinners under his wing through subliminal messaging, he had security and power.

With Alastor’s return he brings CHARISMA and he’s doing it SO FUCKING WELL.

This is not a battle, it’s a slaughter, and Alastor is WINNING. With television there are so many ways to captivate a viewer but with radio all the host has is their voice and personality. It all has to be shown in a medium that doesn’t have many options for uniqueness.

Alastor defends himself with grace. He throws out compliments to his fellow overlords while still having it be a slight to the man who began the fight.

THE Vs ARE PREENING AT HIS PRAISE. THIS MAN IS GOATED.

It's night and day, but that's probably because Valentino and Velvet are tired of Vox's shit. I love this parallel so much!

Vox needed to be the person he was with Valentino at all times if this is a battle he wants to win, but he’s so bitter he will never see that.

He’s stubborn and that’s his main flaw.

And I fucking love it.

Alastor knows what he’s thinking and how to avoid it.

Always a step ahead. And their duet showcases that perfectly.

Alastor uses his opponent’s power against them, seeing the slanderous TV campaign and immediately going on air.

He does that in the pilot as well and seeing that this has become a habit for him is so fun to see.

Alastor is not to be messed with and I feel like people decided to gloss over that. But it’s so in your face you cannot deny it.

Alastor is TERRIFYING with a chilling deposition that will give you nightmares if you dare cross him.

Give him the respect he fucking deserves.

And the music and the visuals of the song — A whole fucking masterpiece.

I’m in love with their dynamic so far and I can’t wait to see where it goes.

So far Vox is the obsessed fanatic that couldn’t handle rejection.

There has to be more than that.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #Vox #Alastor #Hazbin hotel season 1 episode 2 #i love this show #it’s so good

[bowtiepastabitch]

Good Omens Fanfic Data: 2023

Top 5 Tags Per Month

Excludes basic a/c ship tags. Common tags coded by color. Interesting changes or patterns are in bold.

January: fluff, human au, humor, post-canon, established relationship

February: fluff, angst, human au, established relationship, hurt/comfort

March: fluff, human au, angst, post-canon, first kiss (honorable mention: pining)

April: fluff, human au, angst, hurt/comfort, first kiss (honorable mention: humor)

May: fluff, human au, blairamok's #IneffableMay, established relationship, hurt/comfort

June: fluff, human au, established relationship, hurt/comfort, angst

July: fluff, angst, fix-it, hurt/comfort, s2 spoilers

~~~~SEASON TWO~~~~

August: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, post s2, s2 spoilers (honorable mention: fix-it) (@neil-gaiman you know what you did)

September: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, crowley is a mess, ineffable idiots

October: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, post s2, crowley is a mess

November: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, crowley is a mess, post s2 (honorable mentions: angst with a happy ending, hurt crowley)

December: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, ineffable idiots, crowley is a mess (honorable mention: Christmas)

January 2024: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, crowley is a mess, human au (honorable mention: anal sex)

At time of posting there are still a couple hours left on the poll that I plan to use for additional GO fic data, so please go vote if you haven't already. Info about how the process for this is under the cut:)

Data was collected on February first, 2023, using Ao3's filtering system. Each month represents fics updated from the first through last days of the month. Please note that fics are filtered by when it was updated, not originally published, so longer running fics will be sorted under when they were finished or last added to. Unrated fics are not included in the graph, an oversight on my part whilst collecting data, but make up a very small portion of total fics and are often podfics or artwork.

Tags excluded in tag rankings are: "Aziraphale loves Crowley", "Crowley loves Aziraphale", and "Ineffable Husbands", which were consistently ranked among the top tags and I found unhelpful for determining patterns in fan engagement since they are, after all, simply facts. Honorable mentions are tags that ranked within the top 10 tags for the month which were unique to the month or contributed to an interesting trend.

Data collection is all done by me, so slight errors in copying down information are possible. Yes I made teen purple instead of yellow, I found it aesthetically pleasing. So sue me.

January of 2024 was included because I thought the additional data provided interesting information, especially the return of the human au tag (officially "alternate universe-human"), the higher ratio of explicit to nonexplicit fics, and the debut of "anal sex" in the top ten tags. It was a great month for the fandom.

Current other data projects include average word-counts by month and estimation of the total number of words written by members of the fandom. If there's any data or patterns you'd like to see, or questions you'd like answered, drop them in my ask box!

All of this is dedicated to the wonderful amazing writers in the fandom, including lovely mutuals whose work I totally recommend @voluptatiscausa @fellshish @phoen1xr0se @indigovigilance @ineffabildaddy (if I didn't tag you don't read into it, I've got a medically-concerningly bad memory and just popped through my recent reads on ao3.)

<3

#top tags are also here if you expand it #good omens #gomens #good omens fanfiction #good omens fandom #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #neil gaiman #good omens 2 #aziraphale x crowley #ineffable spouses #fandom meta #ao3

[emotionalmessss]

King of Curses

A/N: a little Sukuna one-shot for my first ever post. :) I'm open to writing more if anyone has some requests. :)

Synopsis: reader and megumi find themselves trapped in sukuna's domain. Non-canon. No spoilers.

Warnings: violence, kidnapping, rape/non-con, blood, gore. this is pretty dark and if that triggers you do not read! 18+ readers only! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Word count: 8.2k

Blood. It was the first thing that assaulted my senses. The air was thick with it. The stench of it was enough to make my nose curl upwards in revulsion, my eyes immediately stinging and tearing up. I forced my eyes closed, blinking away the burning sensation to my best abilities. The next thing I noticed was the smell of death. It was everywhere, surrounding us from all sides, along with the piles of bones that littered the ground. This was Hell, I was so sure of it. The dread built up in my stomach, reminding me that we could easily become a pile of bones and rotting flesh if we were not cautious. 

“Megumi.” I spoke out, my voice rumbling low with fear. 

“I know.” The Sorcerer beside me glanced over, his eyes narrowed in concentration. 

I suppressed the bile that rose up in my throat as we pressed on. The ground was covered in a thick layer of blood and water, making it incredibly difficult to maneuver. I had stepped on more bones than I could count, nearly losing my footing in the process. I would have toppled over if it weren’t for Megumi, his thick arm draped over my shoulder, keeping me balanced. 

“We need to get out of here. Whatever here even is.” My teeth gritted, almost enough to shatter them into pieces. Not only was it disgusting here, but it was frigid. My fingers could barely function, the chill I felt traveled all the way to my bones. 

Megumi gave a slight nod, but remained silent, he was too focused on what was ahead of us. Which was nothing much but more fog, blood, and bones. He was limping beside me, blood coating whatever was left of his uniform and clinging to his face. His upper leg was bleeding badly. Megumi and I were able to hold our own, our bodies strengthened from years of training and combat, but it didn’t mean that we couldn’t bleed out. And I feared that he would bleed out before we got out of here. 

I wasn’t in the best of shape either, my bicep had suffered a deep cut, not nearly as bad as his though. However, it hadn’t stopped bleeding since we were summoned here. Wherever here even was. My mental state was more damaged than anything, the fear slowly eating away at my senses.  

“Gojo?” I asked, peering up at him through my disheveled hair. “Nobara?” 

My mind drifted to Itadori when the names of my friends fell from my mouth, a frown forming across my lips as I thought of my best friend. A vessel to Ryoumen Sukuna, the King of Curses. Itadori could no longer control him and in return, we all lost our friend for the time being, hopefully. My eyes stung with fresh tears at the thought of it, brimming over the bottom of my lashes. I shook my head. Itadori was strong. He was going to be okay. At least, I tried to convince myself every night. 

“I don’t know. They might’ve made it somewhere safe. It seems like it’s only us here.” Megumi winced as he spoke, his ankle buckling beneath him and causing him to topple down in a heap. He cursed under his breath, his head hanging low, letting out an annoyed grumble.   

“Megumi.” I dropped down to my knees beside him, the fabric of my skirt soaking up the crimson liquid, coating my thighs. “Let me wrap it at least.” My hands moved to cup his face, thumbing away the dry blood around his mouth. 

He winced, squeezing his eyes shut in response. “That’s not important right now. I need to get you out of here.” He began to push himself off his knees, but buckled back down in the process. 

“Just stop! Why do you always have to be so fucking difficult?” I shook my head in annoyance. My hands fiddled with the hem of my skirt, tearing a strip of fabric off. My eyebrows were pulled together in concentration as I began to wrap his wound, pausing and resuming when he gave a sharp exhale. 

I knew that this wouldn’t be enough to completely stop the bleeding, but it was going to have to work for the time being. The navy fabric deepened in color as his blood pooled around it, soaking through it. 

“You shouldn’t worry about me.” He scowled as I pulled him back up to his feet. This time, he was able to apply more pressure on it and gained more stability.  

“Oh yeah? Then who will?” I rebutted, wiping my hands on my tattered uniform. I gave him a sideways glance, tempting him to try and say something else. 

He fell silent at my words, allowing us to continue on our way. Even with the little strength he gained from my bandage, he still placed his arm around my shoulders, keeping me close to his side. Even by this slightest action, I felt a lot safer than a few moments ago. The warmth pooled around my stomach, tightening into knots. A small smile formed at the feeling, bringing me some sort of joy in this hell. 

The further we walked, the stronger the smell of blood got, once again assaulting my nose. My lungs were struggling to gather enough oxygen, it felt as if the blood had coated itself inside of them, making it nearly impossible to get a full breath. I could tell Megumi was feeling the same. His labored breaths came out in short bursts from beside me, which had me worried.  

I knew we were in a Domain of some kind, a rather large and dangerous one. The anxiety that I felt in my stomach had tripled, slowly eating away at my calm demeanor. I knew that Megumi was surely feeling the same, but he had not shown it. His attention was too focused on the unstable ground beneath his feet, occasionally glancing around us for precaution.  

My eyes snapped forward when I finally shook off my dazed thoughts. The amount of bones had multiplied, seemingly appearing from nowhere. I swallowed hard, squeezing my eyes shut for a moment. The space around us seemed to open up more, my eyes taking notice of a clearing up ahead. A large structure began making its way into my hazy vision, the daunting shadow sending a chill down my back. I narrowed my eyes as I tried to focus, unable to tell due to the distance and fog.  

My attention was turned back onto Megumi, I heard him swear and proceed to stumble on the remnants of animals, or humans. I couldn’t tell. I knew that time was a pressing matter, and it wouldn’t be wise to drag him all the way there in his condition.   

“I’m going to get a better look. You wait here, okay?” I shifted out of his hold, starting to jog in the direction of the unfamiliar structure. 

“Y/N! Slow down! We don’t know what’s out there!” Megumi called after me. 

I ignored his warnings, running faster. The adrenaline was pumping through my veins, compelling my entire body to run. The mere thought of escaping this place was too much for my body to handle. I felt my lungs struggling to suck in the air that my body needed, but I didn’t care. Every breath I drew burned my throat, and every time I smelt the air, I wanted to puke.  

The blood splashed around me as I pumped my legs faster, soaking into my shoes and nearly tripping me. I ignored it, continuing to press on while Megumi shouted after me. I gave him a sideways glance, noticing that he was struggling to keep up. 

“Just wait there! I’ll be right back!” I yelled back, glancing over my shoulder. He had trailed far enough behind me that I didn’t hear the next words he shouted at me.  

My attention returned as I neared the tower. My heart thumped against my ribs, numbing my senses with adrenaline. The air thickened, if that was even possible.

I was closer now, skidding to a stop as I craned my head back to look up. My eyes struggling to adjust due to all of the fog and darkness. I wiped them with the back of my hands, shaking my head in an attempt to alert my senses. 

The haze left my vision, now able to process what was directly in front of me. This wasn’t a tower, building, or exit. It was a pile of bones. My stomach clenched and I covered my mouth, backing away slightly. 

Skulls. Bones. Everywhere. This thing was made of them. There was even more littered on the floor. It towered sloppily, some were burnt, some were old, and some were fresh. I brought my hand up to my nose, which was now stinging with the stench of this place. I continued to back away from the base of it, my eyes following up the makeshift staircase, squinting as I noticed a chair of some sorts. 

Oh, no. 

This wasn’t just a tower of bones. This was a throne. A shrine. 

My eyes widened at the realization, my heart thundering against my chest. “Megumi! Run! Don’t come over here!” I screamed, praying that he would hear me somehow. My mouth hung open in shock, desperately trying to find the words I needed. 

Get out! Run! The voice at the back of my head screamed, but my body refused to listen. 

My legs struggled to keep up with me as I cautiously backed up, feeling like they were filled with lead. As much as I wanted to turn around and run, I couldn't pull my gaze from the vileness of this all. My body buzzed with anxiety, tingling all over. 

“What a little fool you are.” A voice behind spoke, my body jerked at the sound of it, stumbling around to face it. My vision swam at the quick action and I stumbled backwards, falling into the wet ground. 

I flinched, my eyes staying glued on the ground around me, unable to find the courage to face that voice. When I refused to avert my eyes, I noticed a pair of sandals step towards me. I couldn’t find the courage to look up, knowing that if I did, I would be dead. The anxiety I felt manifested itself into pure and utter fear now, compelling my unrelenting body to move. 

Slowly, I moved my eyes up and along the form that was dressed in white robes in front of me. My jaw slacked open, my hands planted beside me to keep me upright as I stared at the King of Curses himself. His red eyes bore into mine, a sinister smirk plastered across his marked face. 

Sukuna. This imposter wore the skin of my best friend, but I found no comfort in being around him. I sucked in deeply as I stared back at him. He was bigger than Itadori, stronger, and faster. His body was taut with muscles, rippling beneath his robes. The black markings covered his face, the two slitted eyes shut tightly as he watched me. This wasn’t my best friend staring down at me, this was a monster. A monster that stood for everything that Itadori was against. Someone, something that stole the life of my best friend. 

“A pretty little fool.” He mused, his eyes glimmering in the darkness. 

A wash of anger flooded through me, a mixture of the pain I felt for Itadori and Sukuna’s condescending words.

“Sukuna.” I hissed. “Let Itadori go.” I demanded, surprising myself with my tone. 

"I didn't give you permission to speak to me so informally now did I?" The king of curses tilted his head to the side to examine my frail body better.

"Let my friend go." I repeated, stubbornly fighting back.

Sukuna’s expression morphed into that of amusement, his back stretching to stand straighter. I, on the other hand, shifted back, leaning fully on my blood soaked palms. My heart raced, the panic beginning to set in, but all I could think of was Itadori. 

“That little brat?” Sukuna remained planted where he stood, his hand coming up to his chin in faux consideration. “No, I don’t think I will.” His smile widened, displaying his unnaturally sharp teeth. 

“Let him go and we won’t bother you ever again.” I gritted, shifting onto my feet now. The blood soaked through my uniform, clinging to my body and dripping down my bare thighs, which didn’t go unnoticed by Sukuna. His eyes flicked down to my body for a moment, then moved back to my face. 

He chuckled. “I have another idea. One you might enjoy more.” 

The grip on my nerves was slipping, telling me that I should run, hide, and find Megumi. Sukuna made no move towards me, but his words frightened me. The threat behind that sentence was enough to make me break out into a sprint around him. 

“Megumi!” I cried, my legs clumsily attempting to keep up with my pace. 

He was on me before I could even think. His arms snaking around me, capturing and caging me against his body in a flash. I cried out, struggling in his vice like grip, squirming violently. His hands lingered on my torso, right beneath my breasts. 

“We haven’t even begun, where are you running to?” Sukuna chuckled, his mouth pressed against the shell of my ear. The blood rushed to the spot where his lips grazed ever so slightly. 

I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to fathom what was happening. My head craned to the side, trying to avoid his hot mouth pressing into my ear. My back was flush against his chest, feeling his chest vibrate with another sinister laugh which got louder, and louder as I shuddered at the sound of it. 

“Open your eyes. Your knight has arrived, little one.” He jeered, his warm breath tickling my cheek. 

My eyes snapped open, despite their unwillingness to obey. My gaze fell upon Megumi, who was wide stanced a few feet away from us. 

“This is going to be so much fun.” Sukuna whispered. 

The urge to run kicked in again and I tried to dive towards him in a panic, but Sukuna’s grip was unrelenting, keeping me stuck to him. A cry left my chapped lips when he jostled me back against his chest, his fingers brushing over my breasts. The feeling of his fingers lingering over the material of my drenched uniform made me whimper, squirming in his grasp. A throaty groan that rumbled from his chest didn’t go unnoticed by me or Megumi, who’s stare hardened.  

“Let her go.” Megumi made a move towards us, cautiously stepping towards the Curse that had me planted against him. 

Sukuna barely moved when Megumi stepped forward, instead, I felt the sharp end of his nail press into the skin on my neck, stilling Megumi’s movements immediately. I sucked in a sharp breath, my eyes pleading. Megumi was no match for Sukuna, the difference in their strength was incomparable.  

“I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t hurt her.” He said, realization at the threat registering across his features. Sukuna’s pointed nail skimmed down the side of my neck, slowly making its way between my breasts.  

“Whatever I want, huh? Then why don’t we make a deal? I’m sure we’ll come to an understanding we both enjoy.” Sukuna taunted, his hands trailing down the sides of my waist, his nails just barely brushing against my skin, making the threat known. If I tried to run, he’d gut me with his hands. 

My mouth parted in disgust at his touch, slamming my eyes shut when I could no longer bear the look on Megumi’s face. Sukuna chuckled, enjoying the reaction he was pulling from Megumi, knowing he had struck a nerve by his actions. 

“Stop this.” He demanded. “Let her go now.” Megumi’s eyes were blazing with anger, his fists were clenched at his sides. His calm exposure was slowly unraveling at the sight before him, my eyes remained focused at the ground.  

“Are you deaf? Did you not hear what I just said, brat?” Sukuna shot back, annoyed with Megumi’s ignorance to his proposal. 

“Hand her over and then we will talk.” Sukuna seemed to contemplate Megumi’s proposal, humming to himself in thought.

“Are you worried that I’m going to hurt her?” Sukuna nudged me slightly, his grip strengthening on my shaking body. I nearly stumble back from the slight push, his body keeping me upright when my legs start to shake. 

I forced myself to take a deep breath, willing myself to stop the shaking. 

My eyes met Megumi’s, his stare was hard, eyes glossy as he watched me. He was struggling to contain his anger, it was evident by the way he gritted his teeth when he spoke, and his rigid stance. I had rarely ever seen this side of him, and wished I never would again. My heart shattered as I noticed his bandage gone from his leg, fresh blood dripping down into the sea of dark liquid beneath us. 

“Don’t make a deal with this bastard. Find a way out of here. I’ll be fine.” I broke my silence, pleading with him. Seeing him like this hurt a thousand times more than what Sukuna could do to me, or so I tried to convince myself. 

“Hear that Sorcerer? She doesn’t want you here anymore. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of her.” Sukuna laughed hard, the deep sound of it echoing loudly, temporarily deafening me. 

 His fingers lingered around the hem of my skirt, toying with the ripped material lazily. His head dipped down, pressing against the side of my cheek. I kept my eyes glued on Megumi, watching as his expression shifted to disgust and then back to anger in a flash. 

To prevent Megumi from intervening, I spoke. “Let us both go and we will never bother you again.” I breathed deeply, flinching away from his touch.  

Sukuna hummed once again in consideration, his head tilted into the soft flesh of my cheek. “Deal.” I could feel his smile against the side of my face, his attention returning to Megumi. His brows pulled in as he took a step towards us, as he waited for Sukuna to release me. Something flashed across his face that I barely noticed in time. It couldn’t have been from my expression, which remained blank. It had to be from Sukuna. He did something to make Megumi’s eyes widen.  

“Wait, Y/N!” Megumi shouted, his words falling upon deaf ears.  

My eyes squeezed shut, waiting to wake up from this nightmare, wanting to be back home to Gojo, Nobara and Megumi. I couldn’t stand another second of being in Sukuna’s presence. It was more overwhelming than I could have ever imagined. I prayed silently, my eyes closed firmly as I pleaded internally. My heart fluttered as I swayed slightly, the knot in my stomach slowly dissipating at the thought of being home. 

I was met with silence. The suffocating feeling of Sukuna’s grip was gone. The air had become lighter, the oxygen finally making its way back into my lungs. 

Breathing deeply, I opened my eyes slowly. 

Blood. Bones. Once again filling my vision as the fear crept back into my system, paralyzing me in place. The room was spinning as my head snapped back and forth, my hands coming up to the sides of my head. No . 

“You failed to clarify that I had to let you both go at the same time.” Sukuna sneered, the sound of his voice coming from an unknown location to me. My eyes searched frantically for Megumi, who was nowhere to be found. “Stupid girl.”

“Megumi!” I screamed, my voice cracking.

I stumbled backwards, turning on my heel and making a run for it. Tears blurred my vision as I ran through the thick fog, Sukuna’s laugh echoing in the distance, mocking me. I sobbed harder now, running blindly away from the voice that seemed to come from all directions. I wiped my eyes, the stinging sensation disrupting my vision as I slammed up against something hard. 

I stumbled back, eyes widening when I met the gaze of Sukuna. His head was tilted to the side, staring at me through half lidded eyes, the thick muscles of his arms crossed over his chest. When I slammed into him, he barely flinched, watching me with amusement instead of annoyance. The look on his face was that of enjoyment, the curve of his lips silently telling me to try again. 

And I did just that. 

I retreated back, spinning on my feet and running in the opposite direction. The thickness of the fog once again lined my lungs, making my breaths come out in short gasps as I pumped my legs. The pool of blood beneath me splashed every time my feet slammed into it, staining my skin. Adrenaline was the only thing keeping me from passing out, it clouded my senses. 

The air shifted, the haze that once filled my vision was replaced by the familiarity of that god awful shrine of bones. Confusion spread through me, I had been running in circles? No . He was controlling this. This was his own Domain, he had the power to do whatever he wanted. 

“Have you finished, little one?” Sukuna’s voice was behind me again. 

The hair on the back of my neck stood upright. The muscles in my body pulled tight, freezing me in place, my eyes widened as I began to understand. I turned my back to the bones, returning the heated gaze to Sukuna. His arms were crossed as he watched me with curiosity.

I took a small step back out of fear. Part of me wanted to step forwards and fight, but most of me wanted to keep as much distance between this curse and myself.

“What do you want from me?” The structure behind me provided very little comfort in this situation, knowing that I was caged in like an animal. Grimacing when I realized I had nowhere to go. 

“Now isn’t that a dumb question from a dumb little sorcercer?” Sukuna laughs, loud and sharp and ear piercing, slicing through my confidence within seconds. 

Before I could even react, he was on me. I found myself bent over a broken pedestal, folding in half at the waist. Sukuna’s hand molded against my lower back, keeping me pinned beneath him. A strangled cry left my throat at the sudden movement, barely even registering what he had done until it was too late to run. 

“No!” A strangled cry flew from my lips, cutting through the heavy air. 

Sukuna laughed, his hand placing more pressure against my back when I tried to buck forwards. The force he applied to my back made it harder to breathe, leaving me gasping and coughing for air. My hands planted against the side of the pedestal, trying to push my body upright and away. The smooth stone is a sharp contrast to the roughness of my palms, blood coating the insides of my nail beds. 

“I’ve got you now, pet. There’s nowhere for you to run, no one to help you, no escaping . You’re all mine.” He says. A sick sense of fear builds up in my chest, my nails dig into the rock, attempting to wiggle away from him. 

“Let go of me!” 

“If you keep squirming like that, I’m going to start thinking you want this.” Sukuna’s voice rumbled from behind me, the sound of it sending a shock to my core. 

Nothing came from my throat except a sharp cry, my face contorting in disgust as I futilely attempted to escape. The thought of me even enjoying this made me angry. There was no way. I would never. I could never. He just wanted a reaction out of me. He fed off them. My eyes enlarged when I felt Sukuna’s free hand touch the bottom of my skirt, the flimsy material acting as the only shield between his prying fingers and my inner thighs. 

“Stop!” My shaky hands tried to find him, trying to detach his hands from my thighs. When that didn’t work, I clenched my thighs tightly together, preventing the access that he wanted. This did not seem to deter him, he snorted through his nose, and wedged his thigh between mine, parting them with ease.  

Sukuna ignores me, his hands lifting my skirt, and his fingers proding against my underwear, testing the waters. I shivered, partially due to his cool fingers pressing against my core, and partially due to the fear growing inside my belly. I squirmed in his hold, earning nothing more than a snicker from him. 

“Dry.” He says plainly. “Too bad for you, Megumi isn’t here to help you.” Sukuna sneered. 

My face flushed with embarrassment, mixing with the anger and fear that was already present. My body jolted forwards against the stone when I felt his fingers hook beneath the fabric of my panties, ripping them to shreds with a small amount of force. His hand that held me down shifted, only for a moment, and only to flip me onto my back.  

Half my body dipped off the structure, my legs spreading around his torso as he positioned himself closer to me. My teary eyes met with his lust filled ones, the look on his face was that of a demon. He was a demon after all. His lips pulled back into a smirk, his eyes focused on my face. 

My thighs clenched around his body, attempting to keep him from moving any closer. 

“Get the fuck away from me!” I wailed, nails digging into the skulls beneath me, trying to find the grip to pull myself away. My attempts remained futile, only doing so much as pushing the bones around. 

Sukuna let out a sinister laugh. “Keep fighting me. It turns me on even more.” 

His hands dug into the fleshy part of my thighs, spreading them further apart for him and ramming himself flush to my body. I let out a small whimper at the friction, his clothed erection meeting against the flesh of my pussy for a moment. His fingers dipped back down, my back arched upwards, trying to wiggle away.  

I froze at the sudden feeling of his nail pressing into my cunt, not enough to hurt but enough to make me jump. I looked up at him through tear clumped lashes, my eyes widening. I swallowed back the sickness that threatened to make its way out of my throat, urging myself to keep it under control.   

“I can make this hurt, or I can make this feel good, it’s your choice.” His words were like poison to my ears, embedding the fear further into my stomach. His nail still made its presence known, pressing deeper against my clit. 

“Please.” It sounded more like a question, my eyes searched his amused face, trying to find some sort of trace of humility. 

Sukuna smiled devilishly, bending down towards my stilled frame, and ignoring my pleas. The thick muscles of his back taking my focus, anything to distract myself. I twitched as his nail retracted and he rubbed gently, his thumb rolling in circles, building up the heat inside my core. 

“Your body is reacting so deliciously to me.” He groaned.

I squirmed in his hold, turning my face away. “Please d-.” 

“Don’t stop?” He chuckled.

Sukuna’s head dipped beside my neck, his tongue running along the side of it, leaving a wet, hot trail up to my ear. His breath was warm, a stark contrast to the cool air around us, so much so that I leaned into him. His fingers worked on the sensitive pearl, making me twitch every so often when he hit the right spot. 

His tongue ran back down to my collar bone, leaving another wet trail. My hands planted themselves against his solid chest, pushing aimlessly against it. It rumbled beneath the tips of my fingers with another sick laugh of his. 

“After I’m finished with you, no one will be able to satisfy you ever again.” He spoke. 

Sukuna grunted, his hand leaving my pussy as he wrapped both arms around me, pulling me onto his lap. Instinctively, my legs wrapped around either side of him, out of fear of falling backwards. One arm wrapped tightly around my back, keeping me pressed into him, while the other ripped at the buttons of my top. 

Each one popped open, exposing my chest, another shriek left my lips. My arms draped over the back of his shoulders, gripping onto him tightly for balance. With my shirt being ripped to shreds, this allowed Sukuna access to breasts, his head dipping down slowly. The heat of his mouth on my breast sent me into a frenzy of panic. 

My back arched, my chest pressing into him. His mouth leaves trails of saliva along my chest, kissing all over my flushed skin. My blunt nails dug into his back, trying to cause him any sort of pain in hopes that he would back off. Sukuna barely flinched, instead he groaned at my actions. 

His hips suddenly bucked forward, ramming his erection against my clit. 

“Gah!” My mouth parted at the sudden feeling, my thighs clenched tighter around him, my hips grinding down against the feeling. 

Sukuna’s mouth detached from my nipple, his eyes lazily flicking up to mine, looking at me with a knowing smile. My expression morphed into utter disgust at my body involuntarily reacting to him. His head tilted to the side ever so slightly as he moved his hips again, hitting that exact spot, this time harder and better. 

A groan rumbled from the back of my throat, my head tilting back and my eyes squeezing shut. My hands clenched into his back, trying to relieve the pressure in my body somehow. 

“Look at you. Coming undone when I’ve barely even touched you, like a little whore.” Sukuna's voice oozed. His free hand moved from my breast and down to my core, toying with the soft folds of my pussy. “You’d cum just like this if I let you, wouldn’t you?”  

“Uh-” My mouth opened up in shock. 

His fingers trailed up my slit, my arousal coating his fingers as he rubbed my clit. I could hardly keep myself steady, focusing solely on the heat building up at my cunt. I swayed slightly on his pelvis, Sukuna’s grip on my lower back tightened, keeping me upright. My mouth parted in shock, the pleasure continuing to build up in my core. I found myself grinding against his fingers, desperately trying to find release. 

Sukuna clicked his tongue, a breathless chuckle snapping me back to reality. 

“Feels good doesn’t it? You eager little girl.” 

His hand retracted from my clit, leaving me gasping at the loss of friction. His hands meet at my waist, lifting me off his lap and down onto my back. I started to shift away from him, only to freeze once he shot me a sharp glare. My eyes drop down at his erection, poking through the material of his robes. A darker stain found right above his pelvis, the wetness soaking through. 

Sukuna’s eyes followed mine, noticing the stain as well, his lips carving up to a teasing smile, just like he always adorned when he was toying with me. “Looks like you’re enjoying yourself, slut .” A flash of heat flickered across my features from his words. 

His hands tore at the fabric of his robes, before discarding it to the side. His cock sprung free, his hand trailing along the shaft, giving a few pumps as he watched me, his red orbs glaring at me like I was his possession. Unable to look him directly in the eyes, I let them roam over his body. Just like his face, black markings covered his arms, shoulders, and stomach. He was equally beautiful and cruel.  

“You should see how you look right now. I just love that look on your face.” Sukuna crooned, falling onto his elbows, caging me beneath him. He was thoroughly enjoying the reactions he was getting from me, knowing that I was completely at his mercy. 

“No. Please. Just-” 

Sukuna’s hands gripped me by my hips, pulling me towards him. The fabric of my skirt bunched up at my waist, exposing myself completely to his hungry gaze. He adjusted himself above me, his hand stroking his cock, slowly lowering himself towards my pussy. My eyes watched in shock, the sheer size of it enough to make my eyes grow wide. 

“Like what you see, hm?” He asked. 

I couldn’t form a single coherent thought, my mind raced as Sukuna’s fingers suddenly cupped my cunt, his middle finger slamming into my core before I could even realize. My head snapped back and my waist lurched forward, bucking into the feeling. My teeth ground down against each other, so tightly that I thought I would shatter them.  

“You can pretend that you don’t want this, but you’re so fucking wet for me. Who knew you’d be such a little slut?” Sukuna’s finger pumped faster, making it harder to contain the sounds that threatened to escape my mouth. 

 The composure that I tried to hold crumbled to pieces when I could no longer stop the sounds from escaping. My eyes screwed shut when I let out a moan, adding even more hatred I had for my reacting body.

“What a pathetic little slut. Do you get off knowing you can’t stop me?” Sukuna’s voice was condescending, his body leering down closer to me. “Does it make you wet to feel so helpless?” He pressed on. 

His free hand moved to cup the side of my cheek, thumb toying with the bottom of my lip. Acting on instinct, I quickly jerked my head down, catching his thumb between my canines and biting down as hard as I could. 

Sukuna barely even flinched when the skin of his thumb broke, blood filling up my mouth. His hand pulled away from my mouth, leaving the warmth with a plop. His blood dripped down the sides of my mouth, slipping down into my hair. I watched as his eyes slowly drifted down to meet my gaze. I felt his finger jerk up inside me, stabbing into the soft flesh of my walls. The pain erupted before I could speak, my words turning into a shrill scream.

“You little bitch. I knew you’d be so much fun.” He laughed, ending it off with a sigh. He examined his thumb, which had already healed. My teeth gritted together, the taste of his blood still lingering on my tongue. He pulled his finger from me after a few agonizing moments, blood mixed with my arousal, dripping down as I anxiously watched him. 

Despite the pain, the loss of contact made my body twitch. 

Sukuna’s hand wrapped itself around my throat, tightening enough to make my mouth hang open in surprise. My eyes bulged, hands immediately shooting up to grasp him. His other hand grabbed onto his cock, running it along my slit, coating himself in my wetness. My mouth hung open, closing every few seconds to swallow the saliva that pooled up. I gripped onto his hand, trying to pry his fingers off. 

“How precious.” He mocked my weak attempts to fight him off. 

The excruciating feeling of my muscles constricting took my focus, my core burning at the sudden intrusion. He entered me with a groan, eyes rolling back as he dropped down onto me. My walls clenched, the searing pain almost unbearable, even with the slick of my pussy. He barely gave me time to adjust before he snapped his hips into mine, the tip of his cock hitting my cervix. 

“Sukuna-” I managed to croak, tapping at his hand. The lack of oxygen was starting to get to me, my vision began to gray and my eyes fluttered. 

His grip on my neck loosened, unexpectedly. Unfortunately, I felt his pace pick up. He pulled away and then slammed back into me, hitting my cervix once again. This time, I screamed, unable to hold it back.  

“What’s wrong? Can’t handle my cock?” He chuckled, his face returning to my line of vision. His red eyes gleamed with amusement as he bared his canines at me. “That’s too bad…” His head dipped closer, and for a moment I thought he was going to kiss me. Instead, the flat of his tongue pressed against my lips, lapping up the drying blood. 

My head twisted to the side and I made a sound that came out like a groan and a moan. His tongue leaves a wet trail of saliva across my face, mixing with the blood. I feel his hand leave my throat, gripping hard at my waist instead. 

The thick muscle continued pounding into me. My muscles strained, forcing me to try and relax myself. If I was relaxed, it would hurt less, right? I breathed in deeply, demanding my body to release the tension that was building up. The sound of skin on skin filled the air, making it even harder to control my anxiety. 

“You’re not giving up already, are you?” He taunts in between groans. 

My lips pressed into a thin line, hiding the sounds that sat in the back of my raw throat. I felt the angle of his torso change, spreading my legs open even more, hitting at an angle I didn’t even know was possible. 

“Sukuna, please.” I whimpered, my body jerking from his harsh movements. “It’s too much.” His hips planted against mine, grinding down hard. 

“I want to hear you beg first, slut. Maybe then I’ll let you cum, hm? How does that sound?” His voice dripped with malice. His nails dug into my side, enough to bruise but not draw blood. 

My frantic eyes met with his half lidded ones, watching me to see what I would do. I opened my mouth to respond, but my words were replaced with another cry as he slammed back into that same spot. My hands slapped down against him, hitting him with every ounce of strength that I had left, which did nothing to him, his only response was a small laugh.

“Please! Please! Sl-slow it down.” I mewled beneath him, squirming in his grip. 

My eyes focused hard on his, which twitched with knowing. “I want to hear you say it.” 

I shook my head, another snap of his hips causing my back to lurch. The pain exploded and I sobbed. I felt myself clench around him, trying to push him out in any way that I could. My attempts of forcing him out were fruitless, he only seemed to enjoy it even more. I tried so hard to keep my composure, but it began to dwindle with each thrust. The pain was building up faster than my body could handle. 

I bit hard on my tongue, stopping the whimpers.

“Did you say something?” He ridiculed me. 

His arm hooked under my thigh, raising it up slightly. At this angle, he was even deeper than I ever thought he could go. It hurt so much. Even more than before. His intent was to force me to beg. He wanted me to have no choice but to submit. It was either beg or be split in half. 

“M-ake me-” I stuttered, shaking my head. “Make me cum, please.” I begged, hating the way the words sounded on my tongue. As soon as they left my mouth, I wished that I could take them back. The feeling of humiliation took over, flushing my face from any color. 

He dropped my thigh at my words. 

Sukuna chuckled, his hand moving down to my clit, but not before he leaned back, spitting onto it. I jumped when his saliva hit my clit, the feeling was enough to make me moan. 

“Good girl.” He coos, lessening the force of his thrusts and circling his thumb around my clit. The pain subsided, instead, the warmth flooded back into my core, leaving me throbbing and wiggling in his hold. 

“Such a brave little sorcerer you are. Taking my cock so well. So well .” His words sent another jolt down to my pussy, clenching down on his cock hard. The sounds of wet skin hitting against each other drifted to my ears, red burning at my cheeks. 

“I’m going to ruin you.” His words rang heavy in my ears, his thumb moving quicker, getting me to where I needed to be. My eyes rolled back and I moved my hands to his shoulders, clawing at the tough skin. I grinded my hips down onto his fingers, desperately chasing my own release. The pressure exploding, nothing but a sharp gasp leaving my mouth as my head tilted back. My vision sways as my pussy clenches around him, my nails digging into his skin deeper. 

“Cumming already? Desperate little slut. Putting up such a fight for nothing.” He patronized. 

My head drops to the side, his words falling on deaf ears. Sukuna’s hands moving back up to my waist, tugging me in closer. I feel his cock throb inside me, the pleasure turning quickly into a feeling of overstimulation as he continues to pound into me. 

“No. That’s not true.” I gritted.

“It’s not? You’re not just another dirty slut? Cumming for a fucking curse?” 

His words stung deep, erasing every thought that I had inside my brain within seconds. My face burned bright with a blush, lips pressing into a thin line. My teeth bit down onto my lip when I felt him thrust again, this time not as deep and not as hard.

“You’re such a mess. If only Megumi could see you now, cumming all over me, and wailing beneath me. I bet he’s thought of you like this.” Sukuna looked down at me, another smirk appearing on his face as he taunted me, eyes widened and sadistic. 

I turned my head away from his gaze, only to feel his hand dig into my cheeks, pulling his head back towards me. My lips pursed together, a sly look appearing on his face.  “Oh no. You’re going to watch me, or I’ll dig your eyes out of that pretty little head of yours.” His voice was demanding. 

Everything in my body hurts. My back dug painfully into the rough and uneven ground beneath me, jabbing into sensitive spots whenever I shifted. My muscles began to grow tired, fatigued from the fight and the strain it was being put under. My arms slipped from his shoulders, pressing blindly and weakly against his abdomen. The high from my orgasm was beginning to wear off, the pain was setting back in. 

My eyes remained focused on his, too afraid that he would make word on his threat of tearing my eyes out of my head. I felt another rush of humiliation when his words were processed. 

Sukuna flipped me round, bending me over the pedestal again. My bare stomach and breasts pressed up against the cool surface. It felt good against my sticky skin, cooling my body down slightly. His cock left me for a moment before he lined back up, his hips slamming against my ass. I squealed at the change of position, taken aback by the swift movement and sudden feeling of fullness.

“I’m not finished with you yet.” His voice growled from above me, the flat of his palm finding my lower back again, pressing me further into the smooth stone. My hand shifted back to meet his when the pressure was building too much on my stomach, feeling like he was trying to push me into the stone. 

He grabbed onto my wrist and pinned it against my back, leaving my other hand to support myself as he drilled into me. 

“You’re so fucking tight. Ah-” My knees scraped against the floor, back dipping down. 

With each movement, my arm went further and further up my back, the burn in my shoulder making me scream out. My cheek was pressed uncomfortably against the stone, tears blurring my vision as I stared into the abis. 

Another snap of his hips caused me to bite my lip, holding back the cries that I knew he would feed off of. My muscles were stretched to their max, and I could only pray that he would finish already. I prayed for death. 

I craned my neck slightly, watching as Sukuna kept his gaze on my ass. I started to feel light headed, whether it be from the strain that was being put on my body, or something else, I felt like I was going to pass out. Sukuna barely let up, using his other hand to support my slumped form. 

“S-sukuna. I-” 

His nails dug into my skin. “Don’t pass out on me yet. I have no intentions on fucking a corpse, that would be boring.” 

I whimpered, squeezing my eyes shut as he continued fucking me. His pace did not let up, bruising my cervix with each thrust. The feeling of his fingers back on my clit made me snap back into reality, my hips squirming against his fingers, desperately trying to find some pleasure to relieve the pain. 

“That’s it.” He grunted, his movements growing stronger with need, the need to find his own pleasure. 

“Oh, god.” I moaned, back bowing down to get closer to him. 

Sukuna snickered, his fingers picking up the pace at my body's response to him. He released the grip on my arm, seeing that I was no longer fighting back. Instead, I felt both his hands plant on my waist, fucking me even harder. With this angle, I could feel every inch of his cock inside me, filling me up completely. 

“So needy. Are you going to cum again for me?” His words sent me over the edge, my orgasm hitting even harder than the first one. My body clenched and my eyes rolled back, mouth hanging open in pleasure. Sukuna gripped me harder, his movements beginning to slow as I felt the hot rush of his own orgasm filling me up. The deep groan of his own release deepened the feeling of my orgasm, fueling it even more. 

I remained still against the pedestal when he pulled out of me, my body unable to move from exhaustion. The muscles in my body were strained and sore, even breathing was starting to hurt. My eyes fluttered closed, slowly slipping down to the ground beneath me. I could faintly hear Sukuna laughing behind me, shuffling for his robes. 

I barely heard him step near me until my eyes opened, his form crouched beside me. It took every ounce of strength in me to narrow my eyes at him, my jaw clenching down. 

“Ah, don’t give me that look. It makes me want to fuck you again.” He purred, his hand reaching out to wipe away a strand of hair. “Don’t you want to see your friend again?”

My eyes snapped open at his words. “Itadori?” 

Sukuna tutted, his head turning to focus beneath us. I slowly followed his gaze, noticing a small figure in the distance, closing in on us. My reddened eyes strained in the general direction, narrowing in focus. That raven coloured hair made my heart jump, followed by my body launching towards his direction. I no longer cared about the pain in my body, it slowly turned into numbness when I saw him.  

“Megumi!” I wailed as I got up to my feet, pushing away from Sukuna. 

Sukuna caught me before I could get away from him. “Ah, ah, ah.” His chest rubbed against my back. I squirmed once again in his hold, watching as Megumi stood rigid a few feet in front of us. His fists were clenched in a tight white grip, his eyes set hard as he scanned over us.

“You bastard.” Megumi’s voice was rough.

Sukuna ignored him, instead he leaned beside my ear. “I’ll be seeing you again.” 

He gave me a light shove towards my friend. My feet stumbled, barely able to support the weight of my body. I took shaky steps towards Megumi, my hands fumbling to pull down my skirt. My face burned with humiliation as I crashed into his arms. The warmth of his body was comforting, but not enough to stop my shaking. He tried to cover me with the best of his abilities, his grip was tight around my waist. 

“I’m going to kill you.” Megumi hissed.     

#sukuna ryomen #jujutsu sorcerer #king of curses #yandere #megumi jujutsu kaisen #sukuna x oc #dark fantasy #jujustu kaisen #sukuna #reader insert #long reads #yandere sukuna #jjk #domain #sukuna x reader #kidnapped reader #obsessed #smut #sukuna smut #heavy smut

[oreosmilkshakes]

Pulchritudinous Promises

Summary: Sometimes, love can be found in the most unexpected places

Pairing: Namor/K’uk’ulkan x reader

Fandom: Marvel- Black Panther Wakanda Forever

Word Count: 8,262

Warning(s): !!There are/maybe spoilers!!, canon divergence, violence, slight/sort-of Hades-Persephone trope (I hope ☹), fluff

A/N: There are details in the story here that don’t exactly follow canonically, per se but I hope I got this right! I came across this post by @beautybyfire​ and I thought of giving the idea a shot. This is a very loooong piece too.

A/N 2: I hope I didn’t overdo it on the suit because I tried my best to keep it true as to the movies. And tbh, this isn’t exactly my best piece. But, enjoy and comments are appreciated! ;-;

Taglist: @beautybyfire​

The day was solemn, the skies were shining ahead brightly yet the air was heavy. [Name] hung her head low, the white veil covered her expression from the others. Mother held Shuri as she sobbed on the black casket before them. She felt the tight squeeze in her heart, eyes closed as she took a step forward. A hand placed on Shuri’s shoulder while another on her brother’s casket. “Death is never the end, brother. May Bast grant you peace in the afterlife with the ancestors,” She muttered. Mother wrapped her arms around both of her children, gently tugging them back as the Royal Ship took away T’Challa’s casket. Mother moved a hand to [Name]’s chin, her eyes filled with so much sadness after the loss of her son. The princess leaned into her mother’s shoulder, her cries silent as she mourned for the loss of her brother.

Life has to go on. T’Challa would want that.

A year has passed since T’Challa’s death. Everyday, by the river of her getaway home, [Name] prayed to Bast, praying that her brother was well with the ancestors and that She gave her the strength to push on every day. Life was hard after T’Challa’s death but she had to move on. As the middle child to Queen Ramonda and the older sister of Shuri, Princess [Name] was next in line to be Queen and the next Black Panther. She felt that it was too quickly for her to take up the mantle but she cannot leave Wakanda defenceless. So, she and Shuri got to work over creating a synthetic heart-plant. The siblings would spend days and weeks on the creation and even with the help of Griot, it was time consuming and everyday, [Name] prayed that their formula would work.

Her prayers did not fall on deaf ears because when they finally got the right formula, Shuri immediately instructed Griot to print the plant. Mother was present too and [Name] thanked Bast for the absolute miracle, Shuri bringing over the plant that was cupped in her hands.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Mother asked and the princess looked up. She nodded, shedding her coat and folded it on a nearby chair.

Mother pulled away, taking the plant from Shuri. “I will get the plant ready for the ritual,” she said, leaving shortly.

“I want to, Mother. T’Challa made me promise him. A promise that I would always keep you, Shuri and Wakanda safe. How am I to fulfil his wishes if I do not take up the mantle of the Black Panther,” [Name] replied softly and her Mother smiled. The Queen moved around the table, bringing her daughter into a hug.

[Name] sighed softly, returning the hug. She didn’t want to break her promise to T’Challa. After all, she was ready. All of her time spent training beside her brother led to this moment.

“To me, you will always be that adorable little girl,”

[Name] sat on the bed and Shuri approached her with a sad smile. The elder princess took Shuri’s hand, recognising the look on her face. “I know that look, Shuri. What’s wrong?” And at that, the genius woman sighed.

“I’m just..I’m just afraid that I would lose you too. Taking up the Black Panther mantle..it’s a big responsibility, you know? What if you run into battle and never return? What if you fought and didn't survive? You and Mother are all I have left,” Shuri confessed. [Name] smiled widely at her words.

“Shuri, little sister. You won’t lose me. I promise you this. Whatever happens in the future. Whatever threatens our kingdom in the future, I promise you this, Shuri. I will never leave you or Mother alone. Okay?” [Name] gently pinched her sister’s cheek and the princess grumbled at the gesture.

“Why do you keep doing that? I am not a five-year-old anymore,” Shuri rubbed her cheek and [Name] laughed.

The siblings shared a laugh as Mother returned with a bowl in her hands. Shuri stepped back and [Name] laid on the bed, exhaling deeply. “You know what to do if this doesn’t work, right?” she looked at Shuri. The young princess nodded, removed her Kimoyo beads and placed them on her sister’s chest. Mother brought the bowl down onto [Name]’s lips and as the liquid seeped past her lips and down her throat, Mother and Shuri began chanting.

[Name] shut her eyes, praying to Bast that this would work.

[Name] awoke with a loud gasp, looking up into the purple skies. She swallowed, the sound of water caught her attention first as she stood up slowly. She noticed she was dressed in white, raising her head to face the river. [Name] took a step into the water. It was cold and shallow and the peace she felt was beyond anything. She wondered who she would see. Would it be an ancestor? Her father? Or perhaps her brother? She leaned down, her fingers dipped into the cool water. Her eyes fluttered shut, easing her mind and body.

But the silence was soon broken by a low growl behind her. [Name] furrowed her brows, regaining her posture as she turnt. A tall figure stood before her, a goddess, one with the head of a Panther.

“Bast!” [Name] gasped, moving to kneel before the Goddess but she was stopped by a hand under her arm.

“Please, my devoted child. There is no need for that,” The Panther said and the woman stood back up.

“You have suffered greatly, [Name]. The loss of your father, losing your family to the universe cleanse and now, you have lost your brother. Yet, with each turn, you sought me for help. Child, I admire your strength and your devotion towards me. You seek power in the heart-shaped plant and I am giving you so much more so you shall keep your promise to your brother. Your protection to your family and your kingdom will last endlessly,” Bast said, laying a hand on [Name]’s head. At her words, the princess allowed her tears to fall, tearing down her walls as she silently cried.

“Thank you, Goddess..Thank you..,” She wiped her tears, closing her eyes.

“My brother..is he with the ancestors?” Her voice was quiet.

“Yes, my child. He rests with the ancestors. He is very proud of you and Shuri, little one. Though he may have left the world, he still resides in all of your hearts. Never forget that, child,” Bast’s voice faded, leaving the woman alone.

[Name] sat up from the table, gasping hard. Mother and Shuri had their hands on her as the princess slowed her breathing.

“Who did you see? Did you see T’Challa?” Mother asked and she shook her head.

“No, Mother. I saw our Goddess. I saw Bast,”

Shuri gasped.

The mannequin was shoved backwards, hard, wedged into the wall.

“But how is that possible? How could you see Bast?”

[Name] swallowed, shaking her head.

“I don’t know either. I thought I would see our father or our brother but Bast herself came to see me,” The woman moved, swinging her legs off the bed. She flexed her fingers, feeling normal so far.

“If I met Bast..this would mean that the ritual worked, right?” [Name] questioned, approaching a mannequin. Examining it to ensure it was sturdy, she gave it a hard kick.

[Name]’s jaw dropped, snapping her head towards Mother and Shuri.

“Woah..,” she said, attention turning to the small glass of water on the table. She furrowed her brows, moving a hand up in the direction of the glass. [Name] moved her fingers and the contents within the glass moved along with it.

“But…But that is impossible,” Shuri tilted her head. Mother too had a shocked expression but it returned to a smile.

“Bast has granted you the power of the Gods indeed. The Black Panther lives!”

“The Black Panther lives!” Shuri copied and [Name] knew this would be the beginning of her heroic life.

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

The testing lab was bustling with technicians and engineers, Shuri’s minions, of course. The youngest princess was busy working on the final touches of [Name]’s new Vibranium suit while the newest protector had spent her time assisting both her mother in the royal duties as well as her sister in testing out the new suit. Truthfully, apart from her new strength and enhanced abilities as well as water manipulation, she did not know what else she got.

“The suit is ready,” Shuri set down her holo-tablet, picking up the metal bangles from the table. [Name] approached the table as well. “This is still very new but I can promise you that this suit is perfect,” Shuri fastened the Vibranium bangles on each of her sister’s wrist. She stepped back, activating her Kimoyo beads to record.

“How do I activate the suit?” [Name] adjusted the bangles, stepping back just in case anything happens.

“I simplified it. Cross your arms over your chest,” Shuri instructed.

The princess nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. The bangles touched and soon enough, she felt her body engulfed in the nano-suit. The helmet covered her head and [Name] opened her eyes. They widened, looking down at her hands. Shuri was cheering loudly, ending the recording momentarily.

“Damn, sister. You look good,” Shuri took one of her sister’s arms and dragged her to the mirror.

Shuri clicked her tongue. “Anyway, I designed this suit specifically to match your abilities. Strength, agility, durability, all the usual stuff. Flick your wrist for me,” [Name] did as she was told and claws shot out from the nails as well as her toes.

[Name]’s jaw dropped, looking at Shuri’s new masterpiece. Her suit reflected most of the past Black Panthers but it came with many modern twists. The nano-tech was the first example but the colours, while it was traditional, instead of the usual black and gold or black and purple, her suit was black, blue with some bits of silver-white. There was a short cape that connected to the fur around her neck.

“You know, maybe I should start getting you to design everything for me because Shuri, by Bast, this is amazing,” The nano-helm retracted back to reveal the wide smile on [Name]’s lips.

“The suit is water-sensitive. Which means, once it touches water, it will power up the suit. You will get stronger. Of course, in addition to your new water bending powers,” Shuri chuckled as the older princess relaxed her fingers. The sharp vibranium claws retracted. She brought the bangles together and the suit quickly disappeared back to the metal bands.

[Name] exhaled softly, the excitement slowly dying down upon realising that the first anniversary of their brother’s passing is in a few days time.

“Shuri..,”

The younger stopped, turning around.

“Do you remember what’s coming up soon?” Her voice was quiet as she approached her sister. Shuri’s expression faltered, a frown clear on her face.

“One year since brother’s passing,”

“Yes..Do you have any plans for the day?”

Shuri pursed her lips as [Name] took her hands. It was clear the pain still rests in her heart.

“No. Not at the moment. I’m afraid that If I do something, I will reopen the wound,”

“I know. I’m afraid too. But Mother says she has plans and she wants the both of us to come with her,”

Shuri gave a muffled reply.

Shuri raised an eyebrow. “Where?”

The older one shrugged. “Mother didn’t say,” And Shuri nodded, leaning in for a hug. [Name] sighed softly, returning the tight hug. She knew how Shuri felt, sympathising with her sibling. “I love you, Shuri. I won’t ever leave you, okay?”

The fateful day arrived and Mother had brought them to the Wakandan Rivers. Shuri had started a fire while [Name] gathered the stick for burning. The skies were dark but the moonlight above shone bright. The sound of nocturnal animals was somewhat comforting during this dark time.

Namor approached the three, Mother and Shuri had the spear tip pointed towards him.

[Name] stood by the water, kneeling before it as she prayed silently to Bast. Mother was speaking to Shuri. [Name] felt minor vibrations from the water, looking up to find a small herd of elephants approaching the water for a drink. She moved a hand into the water, feeling the vibrations. The water was calm, ripples light until the ripples got faster and heavier. Her head snapped up, a figure hovering over the water.

“Mother!” She called out, alarming the older women and Shuri. Both moved to grab their spears and [Name] stood guard as the figure hovered to land. Water dripped from his body, the jewels he wore glinted under the pale moonlight. [Name] wore a calm expression, studying the potential threat before her. His ears were pointed, wings on his ankles which gave him flight. He wore nothing but a green short decorated with gold. His pectoral, a gorgeous shade of blue and gold, fulgent under the moon. He glanced over to the woman, his own eyes studying the woman’s form.

“Stop right there!” Mother hissed. Namor raised a hand up, running his fingers through his dripping hair.

“Who are you and how did you get in here?”

Namor inhaled deeply, looking around. “This place is amazing. The air is pristine,” He faced the river. “And the water..,” The King turned back to Mother.

“My mother told stories about a place like this. A protected land with people that never have to leave, that never have to change who they were..,” Namor turned to [Name], keeping his eyes on her momentarily before returning to Mother.

“What reason do you have to reveal your secret to the world?”

Mother gripped her spear, [Name] was ready to defend her in case he decided to attack.

“I am NOT a woman who enjoys repeating herself. Who are you?!”

Namor had a smug look on his face.

“I have many names. My people call me..K’ul’ulkan. But my enemies call me Namor,”

“I need your people to do something for me. It is something..important to me and my people. Surface dwellers intruded my waters, bringing their technology to my sea in search of Vibranium. They talk of a scientist in America. I want you to bring her to me,” Namor stepped forward, placing the conch shell down.

“Should you have acquired this American scientist, speak into the shell. I will come. I leave that in your hands,”

Namor gave one last look to [Name], jumping back into the water.

The tension in the air left as soon as he swam away. [Name] looked ahead, a large piece of equipment sat on the grass. “How did they do that?” Shuri thought aloud as she laid the spear down.

“Mother, what should we do?” [Name] turned to the Queen, who visibly relaxed. The silence indicated that she was deep in thought, possibly planning out future situations should they not comply.

“We will take the device back to Shuri’s lap. Both of you will work on this together. This changes everything,”

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

Work could never be finished especially when the many lives within Wakanda are under threat. Shuri took apart the machine, examining each part closely to find out more about the device. She was impressed at the fact that this machinery was mostly made out of everyday materials. Garbage, to say the least. ‘Whoever made this is a genius and resourceful,’ Shuri made a mental note, pulling up the protective goggles as the piece of metal she was cutting fell off the side.

Meanwhile, [Name] was working on decoding the device’s internal drive, digging deeper on where the device came from.

“This is some impressive coding. Whoever did this..it’s clearly above their paygrade,” She told Shuri. “The codes are simple but they work so perfectly in what they do. How is it possible that that piece of junk can even detect Vibranium?” [Name] leaned back on her seat, tapping the tip of her pen against her lips.

“All of this is made of..trash,” Shuri set down a piece of equipment. She hadn’t realised Mother had entered her lab and was talking to Okoye. [Name] wheeled herself over to the big machinery, looking up.

“What do you think they’re talking about?”

Before Shuri could reply, both had turned to the siblings.

“Okoye is insisting that she takes the lead in the investigation in America and she wants to bring Shuri and [Name]-,”

“When are we leaving?” Both asked, interrupting Mother. The older woman sighed, lips pursed as she turned to Okoye. She worries for the wellbeing of her children going on his mission but she trusts the General and her oldest daughter.

“We leave as soon as possible,” Okoye nodded.

Just when [Name] thought things couldn't get any worse..

The trio had managed to track down Riri Williams, a student studying in MIT who had apparently made the Vibranium detection device. Shuri managed to persuade the young girl to follow them to Wakanda and she had agreed, not wanting to succumb into the hands of her supposed water hunters.

The team hid in Riri’s warehouse, red and blue lights flashing through the tinted windows.

But, she snapped back into reality when a sudden force struck the car.

“We meet at the rendezvous point. Shuri, get in the car,”

“No, sister. I think it’s best if we separate. Don’t make us easy targets,” Shuri reasoned. [Name] thought her reasoning. It was true. Okoye was about to protest but the older princess raised her hand up. “General, take the wheel. Shuri, ride safely. Riri, watch the skies. Let’s get out of here,” [Name] got into the car with Okoye, the car revving to life with the help of Griot. Shuri had rode off with Okoye’s car following suit. The American authorities were hot on their tails. “Griot, follow Shuri. Don’t let her out of our sight,” Okoye instructed. A HUD formed on the windshield of the car, directions to their rendezvous point clear on the screen. [Name] turned around, bullets struck the back of the muscle car.

“We have to get clear of their guns,” [Name] turnt back, her hands moving around the HUD screen to find their next best route. “Take a hard right into the alley. There’s a road on the other side that leads towards the bridge,” She swiped the GPS back to Okoye. The General swerved the car, the wheels skidding hard against the asphalt as she turned into the alley. [Name] was focused on her sister and planning on their escape route, the bridge was in view and the authorities were falling behind.

“Shuri!” [Name] screamed, the impact threw the bike mid-air. The car overturned, slamming down on the hard floor with a loud bang. The princess groaned, knocking her head to the side of the door upon impact. Something felt damp on the side of her head and she knew it was blood. “Shuri!” [Name] groaned out, tugging on the seat belt. It wouldn’t budge. In the distance from Shuri, she could see the authorities had stopped, guns in their hands as they approached the site cautiously.

Okoye groaned, lifting her head to assess the situation. “[Name], are you hurt?”

“I’m good. Check on Shuri,” Okoye carefully crawled out. A hook grabbed onto Riri’s unconscious form and the warrior woman didn’t hesitate to cut the wire with her spear.

The wire was pulled back over the bridge. Okoye rushed over to Shuri, shoving the helmet off her head. “Griot?”

“The princess is well, General. She should return to us in a few minutes,” The AI confirmed, the Kimoyo beads on the woman’s hand lit up, showing Shuri’s stable heartbeat.

“Call for extrac-,” [Name] stopped, the sound of water splashing harshly. Five Talokanils jumped off the back of a whale and onto the bridge, weapons ready. The princess stood, rushing over to defend her family with Okoye doing the same.

Meanwhile, [Name] still couldn’t get the seat belt off. She growled, flicking her wrist. The nanotech formed around her hand. She flexed her fingers, blue claws ripped through the belt easily. She fell with a soft groan, slowly crawling out of the car. Her eyes looked around, the cold wind bit on her skin. Shaking her head slightly, the princess moved to Riri, cradling the young girl’s head on her lap. She felt a pulse on her fingers and sighed in relief, turning to Okoye.

“She’s well, princess,” Okoye reported and she nodded.

[Name] had her eyes on the pair of blue-skinned people, studying them. They certainly did not look like some common soldiers. They wore elaborate garments and guessed that they should be Namor’s champions.

The large male looked at the woman, speaking in a language she didn’t understand. The female nodded, joining the other three soldiers to fend off the authorities. Okoye raised her spear. “How should we do this?” Behind, Namora and her soldiers easily incapacitate the men. “I’ll take on the four. Can you take the big one?” [Name] crossed her arms. Okoye removed her coat and threw it aside. “I got him,” She held her spear in a defensive position as the two circled one another.

[Name] had to help the Americans. She ran towards the four Talokanils, her suit wrapped around her like a glove. She lept in the air, swinging a kick to one of the unsuspecting warriors. He was knocked back, slamming on the side of the bridge. The next noticed her presence, twirling his own spear towards the Black Panther. She knew better than to hurt them so knocking them out was the better option. The second warrior yelled, jabbing his spear forward. It grazed [Name]’s side, her heart racing with adrenaline pumping in her veins. She grabbed the spear, pulling the Talokanil forward towards her. Then, she dropped the spear, a foot on it to prevent the Talokanil warrior from taking his weapon back. She rammed her shoulder into his chest, knocking him back with ease.

The third warrior lept in the air, slamming the spear on [Name]’s shoulder. She hissed, leaping away and landed on the hood of the car in a stalking position. The female spoke in her language but the Panther waved her hand, a wave of water grabbed the three and threw them into the water, hard. She doubted it would do much but hoped it was enough to stun them.

Namora whipped the end of her spear onto the last American, turning to the Panther. [Name] flexed her fingers as Namora slammed her spear down, both women facing one another.

“Túun, k'a'abéet a beel le leti'ob guerrero Wakanda,” (So, you must be Wakanda’s own warrior?),” Namora spoke, her head tilted, anticipating the fight to be a good one.

“K ilej bix a meetik justo ti' jump'éel ba'ate'el,” (Let’s see how you fair in a fight).

[Name] circled the Talokanil woman and she mirrored the Panther. Namora ran to [Name], twirling her spear in her direction. The Panther kneeled down, narrowly dodging the tip of the spear as it brushed the pointed ears of her helmet. She twirled around, spinning backwards to get up. A leg hooked onto the Talokanil’s spear, pushing her down from the force. The Panther hadn’t expected Namora to recover so quickly, already whipping her spear in her direction. The hits were sure to cause bruises but her training allowed her to take in every hit. Namor slammed the back of the spear into the Panther’s chest, slamming her down harshly into the asphalt road. [Name] groaned, hands on the body of the spear and lifting it to try and ease the pressure. She growled, waving her hand. 

Water slammed into Namora’s side, sending the Talokanil woman hitting the side of the car. Namora seemed surprised at the unexpected attack. The Panther jumped to her feet, turning around to find Okoye on the floor with the male warrior approaching her. She ran to Attuma, jumping on his back with ease and had both arms squeezing his neck. The Talokanil thrashed around, hands trying to pull [Name] off but she refused to let go. She flexed her fingers, claws on her hairs and dangerously close to Attuma’s neck.

“Enough!” [Name] growled. Okoye slowly stood, grabbing her spear as her chest heaved from exhaustion. Attuma stopped moving, head tilted back and away from the shining claws. Namora and the three soldiers had seemingly recovered and ran towards the end of the fight, the Panther getting off Attuma’s back. The helmet pulled back to reveal [Name]’s damp face, claws retracting back.

Shuri let out a soft groan, carefully standing up. The elder princess turned, running to Shuri to catch her sister in a hug. Shuri let out a soft ‘oof’ as she returned the hug.

“You’re alright, sister. You’re alright,” [Name] patted Shuri’s back as she pulled away. The younger looked behind to find the five Talokanil soldiers.

The Panther turned, looking at Attuma and Namora. She raised her wrist up, activating the kimoyo beads. “Griot, I need translation,”

“Did I miss something?”

“No, not much. I want to make an offer with them,”

“I am a Wakandan royalty. I have an offer to make to your King. Take me to your King but let them go. Namor has no more quarrel with the girl. I wish to make a peace offering with him,”

Attuma and Namora turned to one another.

“Leti' le realeza Wakanda,” (She is Wakandan royalty?)

“Míin le ajawo' aceptaría u ti'ibil óolala',” (Perhaps the King would accept her offering)

Namora turnt to the princess.

“Le ajawo' taak le ch'úupalo'. Yaan k bisikech ta yéetel le ch'úupalo', chéen ba'ale' P'at bin a kiik yéetel a guerrero,”

“The King wants the girl. We will take you and the girl but let your sister and your warrior go,” Griot translated and just as Okoye was about to protest, [Name] held a hand out to prevent her from furthering her actions.

“Fine. We will come with you. My sister and my General will return home. Take us,” [Name] flicked her bangle, her suit disappearing into the metal completely. Shuri grabbed her hand and tugged her aside.

“What do you think you’re doing?! You want to willingly give Riri away? He will hurt her, sister,” Shuri frowned.

“Shuri, please understand. We don’t fully know Namor’s capabilities. For all we know, his army could best us in every fight initiated. I want you to get ready Wakanda just in case my peace offering does not go as expected. I promise you that Riri will return safely to you. Okoye, take Shuri back. I don’t wish to discuss this further,”

[Name] turnt to Namora, a mask held in her hand. She placed it over her mouth and nose, a soft hiss emitted from the mask itself. Attuma had picked up Riri, making his way to the edge of the bridge. The princess felt her vision blur, Namora quickly catching the woman before she could fully pass out.

She could hear Shuri’s faint scream and that was the last thing she remembered.

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

[Name] felt hands on her, eyes fluttering open to the soft, blue light. Slowly, she sat up, finding Riri in front of her with a worried expression.

“Oh, I thought you were dead or something,” Riri heaved a sigh, sitting on the hammock. She pursed her lips, unaware of their whereabouts. It scared her.

“Where are we?”

“What happened on the bridge?” Riri turned to the princess, awaiting some answers.

[Name] rubbed her head, shaking it.

“I..uh..I don’t actually know,”

[Name] furrowed her brows, recalling the events.

“A fight with the people who wanted to take you. I had to end it,”

“A peace off- Are you serious, right now? Man, you are crazy, seriously,”

“And..exactly how are you going to do that?” The young girl crossed her arms over her chest.

“An offer of peace,” She said sheepishly, scratching the back of her neck gently.

[Name] laughed nervously. “Yeah, maybe I didn’t really think this through properly but this man..he has the power to hurt my people and you and I had to do something. What better way to talk, right? War and violence isn’t always the answer..,”

“Oh, I’ll show him violence,” Riri mumbled.

A pair of Talokanil maiden approached the two, one carried a basket of fruits and another held a garment in her hands. The second maiden held up the garment.

“Nook' teechi', princesa. Bey teech u le realeza, láayli' k'a'abéet a beel tratado bey tal way te' Talokan,” (Clothes for you, princess. As you are royalty, you are still treated as such here in Talokan)

[Name] took the garment, the material was soft but the dress itself was hefty.

“K ajawo' k'áato' wilech,” (Our King wishes to see you) The maiden gestured for [Name] to follow her but before she could leave, Riri grabbed her hand.

[Name] was led to a small area where she could change out of her clothes and into the dress. She had to admit, it was the most beautiful thing she has ever seen. A white and blue garment decorated with jade. She inhaled deeply, following the maiden once more towards a secluded part of the cave.

“Wait, where are you going? Don’t leave me here!” She squeezed her hand. [Name] smiled softly, gently taking her hand.

“I won’t be long, Riri. I will be back soon,” The princess released Riri’s hand, following the maiden deeper into the cavern systems.

In the middle, was a small hut of sorts. Inside, she could see Namor with his back facing towards her. The maiden left the two alone. [Name] looked up, glow worms lit the cave gorgeously. There was a pool of water by the step stone and it looked very deep. She slowly made her way across towards the hut, swallowing as Namor slowly turned to face the princess. He had donned a cape to cover himself mildly. He was distracting but the art behind her pulled her attention fully. “It’s beautiful..,” She acknowledged the mural. It was painted in various colours and it told a story, one she couldn’t exactly figure out.

Namor moved to the princess.

“I thank you for your kind words, princess,”

[Name] tilted her head down, eyes meeting Namor’s.

“Thank you for agreeing to this meeting, Namor. I’m just disheartened it had to be under tense circumstances,” She began. Namor gestured for her to sit and she did.

“I don’t want war, Namor. I bring the girl to you to show that I do keep the end of our bargain. But I cannot willingly give her over to you. She did no wrong, Namor. It is her country’s people who have acquired her project for their usual selfish usage,” At this, Namor lit up. Her views were similar to that of his own. He felt his own heart skip a beat at that.

“My warriors told me of a peace offering you had,” Namor adjusted his cloak and the woman nodded.

“I’m doing this for the benefit of your people and mine, Namor. I hope you understand that I would do anything for peace and for my people. As a king to your own empire, I’m sure you share this with me…,” She trailed off, reading Namor’s expression.

“My views are the same. Surface dwellers are the true monsters of our story. They are selfish, destructive and they cause harm to everything they touch,”

[Name] had to thread carefully now. She didn’t want to give Namor the wrong idea.

“What I’m trying to say is that, you have no quarrel with the surface world-,”

“No, princess. I bear hatred towards the surface dwellers,” Namor’s eyes darken and [Name] leaned back, afraid he might do something irrational.

He reached towards the table, picking up a jaded bracelet.

“This belonged to my mother. She gave it to me before she passed all those years ago,” Namor held the bracelet out to [Name] and she took it. She brought it up closely, examining its own beauty. “It’s so pretty,” She smiled softly, fingers dragging to study each carved jade.

“We were not always who we are,” Namor began, looking at the mural on the wall.

“My mother and her tribe were born human, living on the surface world where they thrived greatly. Then, one by one, they fall ill. Strong men would grow frail and die. Children barely reach the age of maturity, dying in the arms of their mothers and fathers. Their tribe was stricken with a sickness brought in by the colonists. As a final resort, the tribe shaman sought help from the gods, seeking for a cure to their ailment. The gods gave him signs, where it led him to a water hole,” Namor moved a hand over the mural of the depiction.

“The Shaman found a blue plant beneath the water hole and made a cure for the tribe. The plant alleviated the sickness but it left them with a gift. A gift you see before you,” He paused, turning to the princess.

“At that time, my mother bore me. Despite her wishes not to consume the plant, the shaman had begged her to do so, foreseeing that the child would not survive if she did not consume the plant. So, she did. I was the firstborn son of Talokan, a hybrid that gave me powers beyond anything imaginable. I was a mutant,”

[Name] stood, joining Namor by the mural.

“But my mother, over time, grew sick. She couldn’t bear the thought that she could not live on the surface anymore. She longed for it. She died not long after and as per her wishes, I buried her on her land. But, what I saw was the seed to my hatred towards the surface dwellers. My mother’s people became slaves, treated poorly beyond anything I have ever seen. So, I killed them all, burning everything to the ground and killing everyone,” He paused again, looking at [Name] in the eyes.

“A Spanish man of faith cursed me as he died by my hand. He called me, ‘El Niño sin Amor’. A child without love. And I took my name from there. Namor. Because I have no love for the surface world,”

[Name] understood his feelings. He was the ruler of a hidden tribe, one hidden for very good reasons. If she were to be placed in his position, she would have done the same thing.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Why? Because you and I are the same. We would do anything to keep our people safe from the outsiders,”

Namor’s hand moved to [Name]’s, fingers moving to tie the bracelet around her wrist. Her heart raced at his sweet gesture, cheeks reddening under the blue light. He was such a strong warrior but his hands felt nothing as such. They were soft, warm and large enough to cover her own hands.

[Name] was taken aback by his words but then, a smile formed on the King’s lips.

“Thank you, Namor,”

Their eyes meet momentarily, until Namor pulls away.

“Talokan is a beautiful city. I want to share it with you but the water down there..it’s enough to kill you,”

“We have a diving suit for you,”

Oh, she couldn’t wait to see his world.

Talokan was unlike anything [Name] has seen. To see a home thriving under the sea, she fully understood why Namor was so driven to protect his people.

She sat by the water, Namor beside her.

“Namora told me of your special abilities. Do you love the water?”

She looked over to the King, her lips pursed to bite back a smile.

“I do. More than anything. When I took my own version of the blue plant, I was met with our god, Bast. I was a devoted pupil of hers and that pleased her. In return for my devotion, she granted me the power of the Panther, alongside with a few extras,” She waved her first finger, a small wave of water brushed against her bare feet.

She hadn't realised that Namor was staring at her, one filled with admiration and adoration.

“K’uk’ulkan, there’s a reason why I offered myself here. I want to have peace between our kingdoms and there has to be a less violent way to do so. Riri, she’s only a child. What she made was merely for a school project. She had no way of knowing that her country’s government had intended to use it for their own. There has to be some other way, K’uk’ulkan. I am willing to offer a peace offering in return for peace. But, you should pick whatever peace offering you wish to have. I believe it’s only fair,” [Name] turned to Namor. He looked relaxed but behind those brown eyes, he already knew what he wanted.

“Anything?” He repeated.

She nodded. “Anything,”

She gasped, wanting to pull her gaze away but kept it firm. Her cheeks were hot and reddening.

Namor leaned forward, a hand moving to cup the woman’s jaw.

“In that case, I believe the best and most traditional way for two kingdoms to form an alliance would be a marriage, no?”

A marriage?

“The marriage is one thing but the other thing..I want you to stay with me,”

Namor wanted a marriage..with her?

The King of Talokan wants to get married to the Princess of Wakanda? What would mother think? What would Shuri think? [Name] closed her eyes, calming her erratic mind. She parted her lips to speak but Namor beat her to it.

Namor gently gripped her hand.

“K’uk’ulkan..,” She began, taking a deep breath. She moved a hand over his, the one that laid on her cheek. She took his hand, placing her palm on his.

“This marriage, I can agree to. But to stay with you? Please, Namor, I cannot simply abandon my family and my people. I am still their protector,”

“Then for six months, stay with me. The remaining half, you may return to your kingdom but once it ends, you stay with me again. Do you agree?”

[Name]’s eyes met with Namor’s. She knew what she was walking into. If she had to do this for the safety of her people as well as form an alliance with Talokan, it would be a win for both parties.

Namor leaned in close and she did the same. Their foreheads meet, eyes fluttering close at the intimacy they shared. [Name] will learn to love the King.

She nodded, a smile on her lips.

“I agree to your terms,”

The times the princess had with the King were well spent. Namor was relaxed around her and [Name] opened up to the King. He became her listening ear when she had to release the emotions she withheld about her late brother. He understood perfectly what it was like to lose a family member. He sympathises with her.

When Namor was busy, [Name] had Riri to go to. Riri eventually eased up around the Talokans but there was still some form of tension between them. She didn’t tell Riri of her arrangement with Namor.

The princess was unaware of the fact that Nakia had infiltrated Talokan. Her eyes darted to the silhouette beyond the far edge of the caves and she stood immediately, stopping her conversation with Riri.

Nakia had a rifle up, pointing to the Talokanil guard.

“Nakia!” She rushed over, the guard held her spear up.

“They’re friendly, Nakia. They are friendly,”

Nakia furrowed her brows. “What? But I was briefed-,”

“Nakia, I have established an alliance with their King,”

At that, the other woman froze. “An alliance? The Queen told me they were dangerous beyond anything Wakanda has faced,”

“Yes, they are but trust me on this..please?” [Name] begged, approaching her friend slowly. Nakia lowered her rifle and the guard, her spear. The princess nodded to the guard, who stepped back. She rushed to her friend, hugging her tightly.

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

“It is so good to see you, Nakia. I know you have your orders but take the girl,”

“What?-”

“Take Riri and bring her to Wakanda. Namor has agreed to let her go and our alliance in exchange for a peace offering. I will stay here but please, tell mother and Shuri that I am safe and I will return soon,” [Name] gestured to Riri to follow Nakia. Nakia wanted to say more but the princess urged them to leave. Soon, the two disappeared from sight. [Name] knew better than to argue with the princess. A soft, sad sigh left her lips as she made her way to Namor’s home. She allowed her mind to drift as she sat on a stool, staring up at the painted murals, thoughts filled with how she yearned to return home and to reveal to Wakanda of their newly formed alliance.

[Name] wore a wide smile on her lips as Wakanda came into view. She wore her suit, protecting herself from the water as she swam. With the aid of her powers, she moved quick, though Namor was quicker. The princess had got into contact with her Mother a few days back and the worries the older woman had almost drowned the princess. She had to assure Ramonda that she was alright and that Namor had done nothing to hurt her. He had finally agreed to go to Wakanda with [Name] and her kingdom prepared for their arrival. Talokanil soldiers rode on whale-back into the Wakandan waters, royal ships hovered overhead to lead them to the palace. [Name] resurfaced, jumping out of the water and onto land. Namor returned to her side.

“Are you ready, sthandwa?,” (my love)

“I am, princesa,”Namor nodded as a royal ship brought them to the palace.

[Name] could see that Mother, Shuri and the Dora Milaje were waiting for their arrival. The ship landed shortly. [Name] was out of her suit, running to her Mother and Shuri.

“[Name]!” Shuri caught her sister in a tight hug, faces buried in each other’s neck as Queen Ramonda approached her children, hugging her eldest tightly. Behind, Namor stood by the ship, his soldiers behind him. The Queen pulled away, her gaze dark as she glanced at the King.

“Nothing is more important than the safety of my child,” Mother cupped [Name]’s cheeks, her shoulders visibly eased up knowing her first daughter had returned.

[Name] pulled away.

“Mother, Shuri, I know you have questions but we have more pressing matters. It is related to the future of Wakanda and Talokan,”

“I know, Mother. I have missed you and Shuri so much. I miss home so much,” [Name] turned, Namor had approached the family.

“Mother, Shuri, you know K’uk’ulkan. He isn’t here as a threat but as a friend to Wakanda,” She moved to Namor, arms brushing against one another.  

“Let’s talk inside, Mother,”

Mother glanced between her daughter and Namor, a frown clear on her lips and an obvious displeased expression. Shuri was confused, following Mother into the gathering hall.

“I hate to see you unhappy, Princesa,”

[Name] turned to her lover.

“Thank you..,”

“For what, my love?”

“For bringing me home. To see Mother and Shuri again,” [Name] reached up, arms around his neck as she pulled the King down for a hug. His hand gripped her waist comfortably, lips brushing her neck as she pulled away.

[Name] smiled widely, turning to follow her family. Namor gestured for Namora and Attuma to stay with the other soldiers as he followed his lover.

Mother sat on her throne, Shuri beside her as [Name] and Namor stood before them. The elders were all here in the citadel, surrounding the pair.

“I know you have a lot of questions, Mother, Sister, Elders but what I did, I did it for a good reason. What reason do we have to seek war with Namor and Talokan? Yes, his motive at first may be unjustified but he did it to protect his people, to protect his kingdom from the touches of the outside world. Are we not the same? We protect Wakanda and her resources from the touches of the outside world and we would do anything to keep us safe, don’t we?” There were murmurs going around the hall. It seems the Elders were agreeing with her words.

“Did he force you to stay?” Mother asked, her voice was firm and hard.

This time, it was Namor’s turn to speak.

“No, I did not force her to stay. At her own will, she chose to stay with me in Talokan so we may talk about peace between our worlds. What she speak, is true. Princess [Name] has opened my eyes to the surface world, helping me see that there is more than just war, violence and greed. We share the same vision and the same mission. She made a peace offering with me,”

“And what is this peace offering exactly?” Mother hissed.

Silence fell on the Citadel momentarily.

“To ensure an alliance between Wakanda and Talokan is forged..I have agreed to marry K’uk’ulkan and to stay with him for half of the year,”

Loud gasps and louder whispers went around the Citadel. Mother stood up, horrified.

“What?! No, absolutely not. I am not losing my child again. I will not agree to this peace offering,”

“Mother..,” [Name] approached her mother, a small smile on her lips as she took Ramonda’s hands in hers.

“Mother…K’uk’ulkan has agreed to this alliance. Think about how it would benefit our people, how an alliance would mean that Wakanda would grow stronger. This marriage is for all of us, for both Wakanda and Talokan. I will come back for the next half of the year. I will always be your daughter, Mother..I will always be the protector of Wakanda. You will never, ever lose me. I promise you, Mother. I promise you, Shuri and the people of Wakanda,”

Queen Ramonda looked defeated, clear tears pricked her eyes. Her heart grew heavy, turning to her daughter. Her hand cupped her cheek, tears threatening to fall.

Tears fell as the Queen stroked her daughter’s cheek.

“Is there no better way?” Her voice was soft. The princess smiled sadly, shaking her head.

“I..share feelings with K’uk’ulkan, Mother. He has treated me with nothing but kindness and my heart is for him,”

“I always told T’Challa that you would grow up to become a strong, independent woman who would be fit to be Queen of Wakanda one day.. If your brother could see you right now, he would be so, so proud of you,”

This time, it was [Name]’s turn to cry at the mention of her brother. She hugged her Mother tightly, sniffling into the older woman’s shoulders slightly. Mother gestured for Shuri to join and she did, hugging her family as tightly as she could.

The elders looked at one another, nodding in agreement.

[Name] pulled away, wiping her tears with her sleeve. Mother took in a deep breath, quickly wiping her tears.

“Are there any objections to this alliance?”

All eyes were on M’Baku, the Jabari Clan leader, who inhaled sharply. If all of Wakanda would benefit from this alliance, then it would be the same for his clan.

“There are no objections from the River Tribe,”

“There are no objections from the Mining Tribe,”

“There are no objections from the Border Tribe,”

“There are no objections from the Merchant Tribe,”

“There are no objections from the Jabari Tribe,”

“Then it is agreed. Wakanda sees Talokan and her King as our allies. Therefore..this marital alliance shall be the beginning of our endless alliance,” Ramonda announced.

[Name] turned to her mother and Shuri, a smile on her lips.

“Thank you, mother,”

Ramonda cupped her daughter’s cheeks.

“Will you be staying?” Mother asked and she shook her head.

“It would be wrong of a mother to hinder her child’s fullest potential. It pains me and Shuri to be separate from you for six months. I know you’ll return but the hole still burns in my heart,”

“I know, Mother. I feel it too but I know you two trust me on this. This will work, I know it will..,” [Name] trailed off, glancing at Namor.

“No. There are some matters K’uk’ulkan and I have to attend in Talokan but I promise to keep in touch,” She brushed her fingers on the Kimoyo beads, smiling as she pulled away.

[Name] gave her family a last look before leaving the Citadel.

She found Namor speaking with his people and her presence made him stop.

“Don’t stop on my account, my love,”

Namor wore his beautiful smile, one she grew to adore so much. Her cheeks felt hot.

“Why don’t you start by giving me a kiss and then..we can continue once we reach Talokan,”

“In yakunaj, words cannot express my adoration for you. My heart races whenever you are around and there is so much I wish to do to you,”

[Name] gasped at his words, not expecting his confession. She smirked, leaning close to the King. An arm snaked around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair.

Namor didn’t hesitate next, capturing his future queen’s lips in a soft kiss.

This was a start of a new chapter for both kingdoms and a start of a beautiful relationship between the King of Talokan and the Princess of Wakanda.

#marvel #marvel one shot #marvel imagines #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #namor #namor x reader #namor x fem!reader #namor x you #namor x y/n #namor imagine #namor one shot #black panther 2 #black panther wakanda forever #mcu #mcu x reader #tenoch huerta #is this a bad piece? I hope it isn't a that bad of a piece ;-;

[pastshadows]

Shadows of the Past

Chapter 2: Home & Heartache

Summary: Astarion remained a spawn after ending the reign of Cazador with your help. After defeating the Netherbrain, you and Astarion stay together, moving forward with your lives. You reside in a small house in the city. One night, after an awkward and concerning interaction with him, he disappears without a trace.

Setting: Post End-Game. Mostly canon compliant.

Word Count: 6.7K

Content: Explicit 18+ - intended for mature audiences.

Warnings: [Additional tags will be added, but expect mature content / read at your own risk.

Spoilers. Mentions of in-game missable content. Violence. Longing. Sexual themes. Blood drinking. Angst. Innuendos. High use of sarcasm. Completely fabricated camp interactions.

You’re standing on the docks overlooking the spanning vista of Deepwater Habor. A pale crescent moon is reflected in the glassy surface of the still water. Your hair blows in the slight breeze as you stare up at the heavens with tears streaming down your face. 

Having to tell Astarion that you could only be his friend had been a kind of torture you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemies. The love of your life was standing in front of you, telling you he wanted to be with you, making all your dreams and fantasies a reality, and you had shied away from him. 

It was the last thing you wanted to do. You wanted to be swept up in his comforting embrace and spend the rest of your life with him. A life with him was all you had desired since falling in love with him, but could you trust him not to leave you again? 

“Do you always come here at night?” 

You jump at the disembodied voice emerging from the inky darkness, nearly losing your balance and plunging into the bay water. 

Astarion struts casually out of the murky twilight. 

“Do you always sneak up on people?” 

“Darling, you wound me.” he says with a dramatic sigh, “If I were sneaking, you wouldn’t have heard or seen me until I was right behind you.” 

You know he’s right. You’ve seen in him action more times than you can count. His ability to move silently and blend into the darkness was uncanny and, honestly, a little disconcerting - if you were not his friend. 

I am beginning to loathe that word, friend. 

You roll your eyes at him, “I come here when I can’t sleep.” 

“Which is often, it seems. I’ve seen you standing here every night since… since I saw you last.” 

He’s been watching me? 

“Astarion,” feigning irritation, “have you been following me?”  

“Following is such a crude word,” he shoots you an innocent grin, “I prefer… admiring from a distance.” 

“You always did find a way to twist things into a more glamorous light.” 

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, my dear.” 

You laugh, turning away from him and looking back out at the vast ocean. 

“It is beautiful out here.” 

When you turn around to answer him, you realize he’s staring directly at you. 

Concern spreads over his face, “You’ve been crying. Again. What’s wrong?”  

“What do you mean again?” 

There isn’t a point in denying you have been crying tonight. You can feel your eyes are swollen and red from nights spent weeping. Trails of tears stain your rosy cheeks.  

“Did you truly forget how good my hearing is, darling?”  

Throwing him your most innocent smile, “No, I just wanted to hear you admit you’ve been stalking me.” 

“Oh,” he tuts, “cheeky tonight.”  

Laughing, you hold out your arm, “Walk with me?” 

“Anywhere. Lead on.” 

You spend the night walking around the sleeping city. Reminiscing about old times and laughing at shared memories. 

“Do you remember the bugbear in the barn?” 

He chuckles, “How could I possibly forget? I don’t think eternity is long enough to burn that image from my mind and the grunting,” his face twists in disgust, “Gods below.” 

You laugh, “You wanted to open the door.” 

“Darling, you were going to open that door regardless.”  

“I was,” you admit.  

“Thank you for allowing me to do the honours.” 

Dawn starts to sprawl across the sky too soon. 

You try to sneak into the manor, but Gale is waiting for you, pacing around in the foyer. 

“Where have you been? I was worried sick!” 

“I…I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a walk.” 

You still have not told him about Astarion, but you can’t exactly put your finger on why. 

I want to keep him all to myself… just for a little while. 

“All night?” 

“How did you know I was gone all night?” 

He looks around as if you’ve caught him with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar.  

“You’ve been entirely too reserved the last few days, even for you. I came to check on you, but you weren’t in your room.”  

You feel a light annoyance grate at you, “I don’t need babysitting, Gale.” 

“I’m just worried about you, my friend. You look like hell - no offence intended. You barely sleep, barely eat, and barely speak. Something is clearly troubling you.” his face softens, “Let me help.” 

You know in your heart that Gale is genuinely concerned about your well-being but having him fuss over you is making you feel entirely too suffocated.  

“I’m sorry, Gale. Please just give me space.”  

He sighs, “I’ve been trying to give you space for months. It hasn’t helped.” 

No matter how genuine Gale’s concern is, his reluctance to give you what you so desperately need drives your anger further. You had felled Gods, an army of mind flayers, countless creatures hellbent on killing you, and he dared to think you could not take care of yourself? 

Turning, you grab your coat and open the door, “I can’t do this, Gale. Not right now.” 

“You’re leaving again?” 

You look back at him, “I’m so sorry.”  

The morning air is crisp, and your skin prickles with goosebumps at the chilled, damp breeze. The sun is half-risen, splaying a beautiful blend of yellows, pinks, and oranges high into the brightening sky.  

You wearily walk through the increasingly loud and crowded street. Your eyes are lidded heavily as your exhaustion sets in. You pass shopkeepers starting their daily stocking of goods, street vendors wheeling their carts out, and the children selling the daily paper screaming their sales pitch.  

Before you’re even aware of where you’re going or what you’re doing, you find yourself standing in front of the Golden Harp Inn.  

Fuck it. 

You climb up the creaking staircase and stand in front of room 2. Glancing both ways down the hallway, you check for any sunlight peeking through the windows before letting yourself in. 

I probably should have knocked. 

The room is dark, nearly pitch black, but you hear bare feet pad on the wood plank flooring. 

“You’re lucky I can smell you, darling. I very nearly took off your pretty little head.” 

A match ignites, and Astarion lights a small candle on the bedside table. He’s shirtless, his trousers hanging loosely around his waist. The candle flickers, and the shadows frolic on his silvery skin. 

He stares at you, confused by your intrusion, “What can I do for you?” 

The words tumble out before your mind catches up to your mouth, and you have a chance to stop them, “Get in bed.” 

He chokes, “I’m sorry. What?” 

Your face goes flush, “Sorry, that was brash. Let me try that again - may I please sleep here?” 

“You…I mean, of course, but why? What’s wrong?” 

You whisper, so low that you know only his ears would ever be able to catch it, “Because I miss my home…” 

“Oh, my love. Come here.” 

You take long strides, closing the distance between you in a frantic rush. Wrapping your arms around him, you push your body against his as closely as possible, nuzzling your cheek into his cool chest. 

His arms wrap around you in that tight embrace you remember well, and you breathe in his scent. 

You’re exhausted. So many nights have been spent fretting over his sudden reappearance, wondering what you should do and trying to stop yourself from doing exactly this. 

You release him reluctantly and shrug off your coat, throwing it over the chair sitting by the bedside. 

“May I?” Motioning to the buttons on the navy dress you’re wearing. 

You want to be close to him, as close as possible, with no more barriers between you, as long as he is comfortable with it. 

At least, just for today.  

You tell yourself it’s just for today. After this, you will have to return to being “just friends” as you requested, but do you truly believe you could ever be just friends with this man? 

You know this could be a mistake, but you’re too far gone to stop yourself.  

He smiles slyly, “Allow me.” 

His hands move to the buttons, and he undoes them quickly. You barely even feel his hands at work before the dress slips from your shoulders and pools to the floor, leaving you in your undergarments. 

“Beautiful.” His voice is breathless, with just a touch of hoarseness, and his eyes slither over you hungrily. 

Astarion whisks you off your feet in an easy, fluid movement, and you wrap your arms around his neck instinctively. He eases you onto the bed before slipping off his trousers and climbing in with you. 

“Are you going to tell me what this is about?” He eyes you quizzically. 

“It’s nothing.” 

You don’t want to tell him about your disagreement with Gale.  

“Surely, you didn’t come all the way here to break into my room, delight me by letting me undress you, and climb into my bed over “nothing,” darling.” 

“I don’t want to talk about it right now.” 

His eyebrow cocks up, but he nods, telling you he will let it go… for now.  

You reach out to him, laying your hand gently on his chest, “Can I come close?”  

He replies simply by wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into him with a happy sigh.  

You lay your head on his chest and slide your leg over his in a careful, slow motion, watching for any of the usual signs he’s feeling uncomfortable. You pray that you haven’t gone too far. He’s deliciously close now, and you want nothing more than to stay like this as long as he will allow. 

He doesn’t tense up at all. He seems perfectly comfortable. Dare you say, delighted even at the closeness of your body.  

Astarion plants a soft kiss on your forehead and rests his cheek against it, stroking your hair in the same comforting way he used to. 

Your eyes feel heavy and begin to drift closed immediately as your exhaustion envelops you. Your mind floats in that dreamy expanse between awake and asleep.  

“I’m too cold.” 

He tries to shift away from you, but you hang onto him tightly as if he were the lifeboat that was stopping you from drowning. 

“No, you’re perfect.” 

“Foolish woman,” he clicks his tongue in disapproval, “you’re trembling all over.”  

“Perfect,” you repeat quietly. 

He chuckles, shifting more blankets over you, “Rest now, my love.” 

Astarion blows out the bedside candle, blanketing the room in darkness. He rests his cheek on your forehead and starts to hum like he used to, lulling you into your trance.  

“Astarion?”  

“Hmm?”  

You can hear sleep starting to permeate his voice. 

“I missed you.” 

He kisses your temple softly, “I missed you too.” 

For the first time in what feels like a lifetime, you fall into a deep and dreamless trance.

When you awaken, you’re still comfortably entangled with Astarion. His arm is wrapped around your shoulders, but he’s awake with one knee bent, reading a book by candlelight. 

You untangle yourself from him and shift away. 

“I’m sorry.” you feel suddenly shy, “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”  

A low laugh escapes his lips, and he smiles happily, “Darling, this sad excuse for a bed has never been more comfortable.”  

You can’t help but grin back at him, “What time is it?”  

“Hmm, I’m not entirely sure, but from the absolute ruckus coming from downstairs, I assume it’s late evening, possibly early night.”  

You’ve slept through the whole day, and you feel like you could sleep through another one as long as your body is intertwined with his. 

“Are you going hunting tonight?” 

“No, not tonight.” 

He typically went hunting at night for dinner of the four-legged variety, or at least he used to years ago. 

“What were your plans for tonight?”  

“Oh, you know me, darling. I skulk around in the shadows, stalk a charming sorceress until she retires for the night, and then I see how many drunkards' pockets I can pick before I get caught. The usual.” 

You giggle and roll your eyes at him. He’s being honest, and you can’t help but wonder how many citizens of Waterdeep have awoken with a bad hangover and their coin purses mysteriously missing. 

“Let me guess, you never get caught?” 

He chuckles, “You know the answer to that.” 

Yeah, he never gets caught.  

You remember his deft hands well. They always moved with precision and purpose. 

Especially when they were exploring my body.  

You flush at your thoughts.  

A wicked smile tugs at his lips, “Oh, don’t keep your dirty thoughts to yourself. Do share.”  

“I was having no such thoughts.”    “Your body is telling me a different story, but I digress. Are you going to tell me what this was all about now?” 

You knew he wasn’t going to let it go for long. 

You sigh, “I had a… disagreement with Gale. I didn’t want to be there.” 

His eyebrows pull down in a slight scowl, “Did the wizard harm you?” 

You laugh, “No, Astarion. Gale would hardly swat a fly unless he had to. You know that.” 

“Good. I would’ve hated to have to kill him. I’m sure even his death would be boring.” 

You nudge his shoulder slightly to show your disapproval of his joke. He merely laughs at you. It was a gesture he knew well, of course. 

“Then what did the wizard do that made you come all the way here?” 

“He… He was being Gale. He’s worried about me, but his particular style of worry can be so… overbearing.” 

His eyebrow cocks, “Why is he worried about you? Did you tell him of my return?”  

“No. I haven’t told him about you yet.”  

He leans forward, finally closing the book he’s been holding, “Curious. Why’s that?” 

You shrug, “I don’t know, Astarion. I just… didn’t want to.”  

“I see…” He looks at you skeptically as if trying to read your mind.  

“Oh, don’t look at me like that.”  

You get out of bed and whisper a cantrip, lighting a small fire in the little fireplace, warming yourself by it for a second. Nights in Waterdeep were chillier than you were used to.  

Moving to the little window at the end of the room, you glance at Astarion to make sure he’s far out of the way of any potential sunshine that could stream in if he were wrong about the time of day. 

Once you see he’s safely away, you push the heavy fabric curtain out of the way and glance outside. The sun has already set far below the horizon, cloaking the city in darkness. It’s cloudy, and the moon shines brightly behind the thick cloud cover, but that pale light doesn’t reach the streets. It gives the city a rather eerie feel.  

“It’s night.” 

You glance at Astarion, and he’s eyeing you with a seething scowl.  

“What in the Nine Hells are those?”  

You give him a confused glance.  

What is he talking about? 

He jumps off the bed and crosses the room in quick, long strides, grabbing your arm and holding it out for you to see.  

“These. What the fuck are these?”  

Oh… 

He’s looking at the scars that mar the flesh of your arm. The telltale puncture wounds of vampire bites. Similar to the one adorned by his neck.  

“They’re nothing.”  

You pull your arm away from him swiftly, your hand trying and failing to cover the scars he’s so hawkishly inspecting.  

“Those are certainly NOT nothing. Tell me.”  

His tone is commanding, almost forceful, and his face is twisted in a rage you haven’t seen on him in some time.  

There’s no point in hiding it. 

“When you left, after I was sure you weren’t coming home, I tried to find you. I searched for you in every place I could think of.”  

His brows slowly rise, softening his expression, and you can see the anger slowly dissolving. 

“I returned to the Underdark to see your siblings. I thought maybe you had gone there to help the other spawn we set free, as you had mentioned before. The spawn in the Underdark are... shall we say, less in control of their impulses than you are." 

The anger flares back up in his eyes, and his mouth sets in a hard line, but it's anger born from concern. 

“Let me get this straight,” he pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation, “you, quite willingly, wandered into a den of 7000 feral vampire spawn? Do you have any idea how dangerous that is!?” His voice is raised, harbouring a sharp edge. 

You square off with him, standing tall, anger pulling at you.  

Why does everyone think I can’t take care of myself? Make my own decisions?  

You scoff at him disapprovingly, “I was well aware of the risks, Astarion.” you cross your arms over your body, “I would do it again and again and again, indefinitely, if I thought I had even a slim chance of finding you.” 

He scoffs back at you. His eyes squeeze shut as he reins in his anger. When he opens them again, his face is softer, with a hint of sadness tugging the edges of his brows downward.  

“Gods, you’re stubborn, as you always were.” 

He reaches for your arm again, stretching it out and places gentle kisses on every scarred bite before pulling you into a tight hug. 

“I’m so sorry.”  

You hug him back, happy to be in his arms again, “It’s okay.” 

A lie. It’s not okay. You haven’t recovered from the first time he left, and now you were setting yourself up for another grand disappearance.   

Will I ever recover? 

Astarion’s scarlet eyes harbour cavernous regret as they linger over your scarred flesh.  

“I should probably tell Gale that you’re back… If you plan on staying in Waterdeep, that is.”  

Please don’t leave. 

“I’m not going anywhere, darling. Unless… unless you tell me to leave, of course.”  

“Then, he needs to know. I can’t keep this from him forever.”  

You don’t want to tell Gale. He and Astarion had a tumultuous friendship at the best of times, and that was before Astarion abandoned you in the dead of night.  

He sighs, “Allow me to come with you.”  

“You want to come with me?”  

He groans, “I don’t relish the idea, but you should not have to bear this alone.”  

You hesitate, knowing this is probably not a good idea, “You really don’t have to. I can manage this.”  

“Beautiful, I have no doubt you can manage it, but alas, if we must tell him, the least I can do is be there for him to scowl at.”  

Having Astarion there could make things easier or exponentially worse. It was a coin toss to know which though.  

“Fine. You can come, but don’t expect a warm welcome.”  

“Hm,” he snickers, “has the wizard lost all of his decorum?” 

You give him a disapproving glower.   

“I guess I should probably get dressed then.”  

You look him up and down, relishing in that glorious view, “Oh, I don’t know. I rather enjoy you like this.”  

He chuckles, “Well, darling, we can certainly arrange more… viewings. Although, I do wonder if this is something friends do. It has been such a very long time since I’ve had a friend.”  

You realize he’s referring to the fact that you told him you could be his friend but nothing more. Yet you had come crawling into his bed, nearly naked and completely unannounced.  

“I suppose that depends on the kind of friends we are.”  

“Oh, there is more than one kind of friend? Well, tell me, do you and Gale fraternize in nothing but your undergarments?”  

Your eyebrows raise as you redden, embarrassment heating your face, “Gods, no!”  

You can barely get the words out fast enough, and they jumble out of your mouth chaotically.  

“I thought not. We must be special friends indeed.”  

The walk back to the manor is relatively silent as you try to work out what in the Nine Hells to say, how to explain this, and why you hid it. 

Upon entering, the foyer is dimly lit, with only a few candles burning. Gale is nowhere to be seen, but Tara notices you and hops down from her resting place.  

“Good evening, Tara. Where is Gale?”  

“Mr. Dekarios is in the library, pacing about. That oaf forgot to give me my milk tonight!”  

You giggle at her vexation. She did hate it when she didn’t get milk. Spoiled little thing she was.  

Tara glances behind you, eyeing Astarion wearily.  

“I remember you, vampire. Keep your distance.” Tara’s back arches slightly.  

Astarion cocks an eyebrow at her and then looks at you, “Charming creature, isn’t she?” 

You shake your head. He probably thought of her as an amusing snack. 

“I’ll tell you what. If you tell Gale I need to speak with him in the kitchen, I’ll get your milk ready.” 

“You will warm it?”  

You nod to her, “Of course, just the way you like it.” 

“Fine. I will fetch Mr. Dekarios. Be warned, he is in a foul mood.”  

With that, she hops off, bounding up the flights of stairs.  

Astarion sighs dramatically behind you, “Great. A dour wizard.”  

You walk further down the hallway before you hear Astarion’s voice ring out.  

“Darling! Are you forgetting something?” 

You look at him puzzled for a second, before the realization strikes you.  

Right. He needs to be invited in. Does it even work if this isn’t my house? 

“Sorry… Wait, can I invite you in, or does it have to be the owner of the house? How does it work?” 

It was never something you two discussed in much detail since it had never been an issue before when you were infected with the tadpole.  

He looks at the doorway, and his eyebrows furrow, “Shall we find out?”  

“Come in, Astarion.”  

He takes a tentative step into the foyer and smiles, nodding, before following you down the long hallway.  

Astarion sits in one of the lavish chairs, unimpressed, “So, you warm milk now for cats?”  

“Tressym.” You correct him.  

“Cat with wings.”  

“Say it with me, Astarion. T-ress-ym.”  

He rolls his eyes at you and looks out the window overlooking the bay, “Quite the view.” 

You hear Gale’s footsteps bounding down the stairs at a breakneck pace before you see him.  

“You’re back. I was worried. I wanted to apolo-.” Gale’s voice cuts off as his eyes fall on Astarion, stupefied.  

“Astarion?”  

“It’s nice to see you too, Gale.” 

Gale looks between you and Astarion, bewildered. Tara trots out happily from behind Gale as you lower her bowl of warm milk to the ground. 

Gale shakes his head and plants his hands on the back of a chair as if to steady himself, “It makes so much sense now.” 

His expression is nearly unreadable, pointing to Astarion, “When did this happen?” 

“About a week ago, give or take a few days.” 

“And you didn’t tell me!” 

“I needed time to figure out what it meant, Gale. How I felt about it without external influences biasing my judgement.” 

Gale eyes you warily. He would have tried to talk you out of ever going to meet with Astarion in the first place.  

“And you, Astarion, what are you doing here?”  

Astarion is calm and collected, just staring out the window, not at all perturbed by Gale’s harsh tone, “Looking for her, of course.”  

“And now that you’ve found her? Are you planning to stay, or are you just going to run off again?” 

Astarion’s eyes narrow, and his jaw tenses at the accusation, “I’m not going anywhere. Not unless she tells me to.” 

Gale looks to you for answers. 

“I’m not telling him to leave, Gale. If that’s what you’re wondering.” 

Gale shakes his head disapprovingly and rubs his face with his hand. 

“Astarion, do you have any idea what you put her through? What state she was in when she arrived here?”  

A mixture of embarrassment and anger floods you. You had been in rough shape when you showed up here - thin, injured, and haunted. Gale had supported you, fed you, and housed you, allowing you to regain your strength.  

“Gale, enough!”  

You shout at him a little louder and harsher than you mean to. There were some things Astarion didn’t need to know, and Gale was about to spill it all. 

I am going to have to answer for this later.  

Astarion’s eyes narrow, “I have a feeling you were about to tell me, Gale. What state was she in?” 

You scowl at Gale as his mouth opens, and he immediately snaps it shut again. This information wasn’t his to tell. 

“That’s up to her to tell if she chooses to do so.”  

Astarion caught the critical glare you shot Gale, effectively shutting him up. It was a feat you were relatively proud of. Not many people could shut Gale up with a look.  

��Is that so?” Astarion’s crimson eyes are on you. 

Yup, I am definitely going to have to answer for this later.  

Gale throws up his arms in defeat, “Well, my friend, if you’re planning to stay in Waterdeep long term, then I think it best if you stay here, in the manor.” 

Astarion’s eyes widen, and he laughs loudly, “Thank you for the offer, but I will have to decline.” 

“The citizens of Waterdeep aren’t stupid, Astarion. Someone will notice your… nocturnal habits and eventually piece together what you are. It’s not safe for you to stay wherever it is that you are currently residing. I assume a cheap tavern.” 

Astarion scoffs, “It’s not cheap.” 

Gale rolls his eyes, “Be reasonable, my friend. The last thing she needs is for you to land yourself in a pile of trouble, where she needs to bail you out… again. I can have heavy curtains installed on the windows posthaste.”  

Astarion thumb comes to his chin in his usual “I’m thinking” manner before abruptly turning to you, “And what do you think of this… proposition, friend.”  

The way he says “friend” is almost seductive. Astarion always did have a way with words and could make almost anything sound as if he were making love to your ears with his voice.  

This is a bad idea.  

You, Gale and Astarion living in the same place is begging for trouble. Gale had feelings for you once upon a time. You had tried your best to be gentle with your rebuff of his advances, but he had been hurt that you chose the man who admitted to manipulating you over him. Whether those feelings were still alive and well was a mystery to you.

Regardless, Gale was correct here. Astarion staying at an inn was a bad idea. Someone would notice his peculiar schedule and eventually put 2 and 2 together. 

You sigh, “Gale is right. You’ve already made quite the impression on the innkeeper from what I gathered from speaking with her. It would be smart for you to stay with people who know about your… predilections.” 

He chuckles at you, “That is one word for it, I suppose.”  

Astarion runs his fingers through his hair, sighing.  

“Well, it appears I have been out-voted. I humbly accept your most generous offer, Gale.” He says in a pompous tone, “It will be like old times, but with exceptionally better lodging by the looks of it.”  

You have to hold yourself back from groaning out loud. You wanted to keep Astarion close, but this close?  

“Excellent! I shall have the room amended for your particular needs immediately. You should be all set to move here tomorrow night.”  

Astarion groans, “Lovely.” 

Astarion leaves the manor close to dawn. You retire to your room, hoping to get some rest, but rest is not for you. You toss and turn in your bed, missing Astarion and the comfort his presence provides. Eventually, you give up and move to the terrace to watch the sunrise. 

Tara comes to curl up in your lap, and you’re thankful for her company.  

“You sleep much less than the other humans I know.” 

You gently glide your hand down the soft fur of her back, eliciting a pleasant rumbling purr, “You are quite astute, Tara.” 

“I am.” She agrees confidently.  

“I have a lot on my mind. Sometimes I can’t get it to rest.” 

“Hm,” she thinks for a second, “have you tried warm milk?” 

You giggle at her. Warm milk was Tara’s cure for every ailment.  

“Is it the vampire that keeps you up?” 

She really was astute, smarter than most of the people you’ve met in your life.  

“Yes.”  

There’s no point in lying to her. She would take your secrets to her grave as she would Gale’s. 

“You care for him, yes?” 

She eyes you with those large green eyes, the first light of dawn dancing over them. 

“Very much so.”  

She cocks her head, “And this is a problem for you?” 

“I’m not sure I would classify it as a problem exactly. He means well, but he hurt me gravely not long ago. I fear he will do it again.” 

“I see. Why do humans fear that which has yet to happen?”  

Good fucking question. 

“Hm, you know how you avoid sleeping in walkways or being too close to someone walking because you’ve had your tail stepped on before, and it was painful?”  

“I do.” She nods her understanding.  

“It’s kind of like that, I suppose. We anticipate pain we have already experienced and try to avoid it.”  

“Hmmm,” she thinks long and hard, “I’m not sure I understand. I do avoid you humans when you’re walking about. You can be so clumsy with your feet, but I do not lay awake at night fearing it will happen.” 

Damn fucking cat… Damn it, Astarion! Tressym. 

She was right.  

Why am I anticipating pain that has yet to come or may never come at all?  

It was a pointless endeavour. Its only use was torturing yourself further. Yet here you were, every night, torturing yourself.  

“You’re smarter than I, Tara.” 

“I know.”  

You laugh at her utter conviction and watch the sun rise above the horizon, casting a brilliant yellow reflection over the water’s smooth surface.  

“Why didn’t you tell me?”  

You sense a note of hurt in Gale’s voice, and your heart drops into your stomach. He was your friend, and you had intentionally kept this from him.  

“I should have. I don’t have a good excuse.” 

“Yes, you should have. We could have talked about it.” He scolds you. 

I guess I deserve that.  

“Therein lies the problem, Gale. I didn’t want to talk about it.”  

“Well, I could have at least provided some comfort. Gods know nothing can make you talk when you don’t want to.” He scoffs, annoyed, “What colour do you think the drapes should be in Astarion’s room?” 

You shake your head at him, “Honestly, no matter what colour you pick, he’s going to complain about it.” 

“I’ll be sure to tell him you picked them out when he does.” 

Laughing, “Be my guest. If you’re lucky, he might believe you.” 

He won’t. 

“As long as they block out all sunlight, I’m sure he will live.”  

Gale’s hand comes to his chin, and he looks around, assessing the surroundings, “I suppose I should adorn most of the manor with these heavy drapes. I wouldn’t want him to feel confined to his room all day.” 

Despite the often-sour animosity infecting their friendship, Gale truly does care for Astarion, and it shows plainly. Although, you weren’t so sure about Astarion’s true feelings on the subject. He could be impossible to read, even to you who knew him better than anyone. 

“That’s nice of you, Gale, but I doubt he expects that.” 

Gale continues looking around, evaluating the rooms, probably working out how to cover the large stained-glass windows, “Well, you lived with him. What did he do during the day?”  

Your mind wanders back to the time you and Astarion shared loggings in your little house.  

What did we do during the day? 

You can feel yourself flush with the memories. Heat rises to your face, turning you red.  

“Perhaps, I don’t want to know.”  

The embarrassment only deepens at Gale’s obvious notice of your hesitancy, and you blurt out things in a rush to fill the awkward silence, “He mostly sleeps, reads or fusses over his clothing.” 

Gale nods, “I’ll have drapes hung in the library then.” 

Gods below. 

You excuse yourself, desperate to get away from the awkward mess the conversation has become. You spend the day fretting over useless things just to get your mind off the fact that you will once again share space with Astarion.  

Why does it make me… nervous? 

You have shared much more than space with that toxically handsome man, yet the prospect of living with Astarion again made your stomach flip around in your abdomen uncomfortably. 

Night falls over the city, slowly blanketing it in dim silvery moonlight.  

“Should we go fetch him?” 

You don’t get a chance to answer Gale before you both hear the knock, heads snapping towards the sound. Gale opens the door, and Astarion is waiting with a small pack slung over his shoulder. 

“Darling! I’m home!” He announces in a cheerful, albeit fake, voice that rings with sarcasm.  

“Where are the rest of your belongings?” Gale eyes the little pack, glancing around Astarion to see if he’s brought anything else. 

“Waterdeep is quite the trek. I had to travel light.” 

Gale’s eyes widen, “You NEVER travelled this light before. You always had us hauling around that damn mirror!” 

You nearly snort, making the sip of tea you just drank shoot out of your nose.  

The mirror. How could I forget?  

Astarion always lugged around that clunky, gold-rimmed mirror he loved so much. It had been a pain in the ass to travel with, and almost everyone complained about it at one point or another, not understanding the point of carrying around a heavy mirror he couldn’t even see his reflection in. 

It has been one of his most precious possessions, and it was one of the things he had left behind when he left you. 

Astarion’s crimson eyes find yours knowingly, “Careful, darling. Don’t choke.” 

His eyes return to Gale, “I have relinquished unnecessary sentimental attachments.” 

“Certainly convenient timing.” 

“What can I say? I’ve grown as a person.” 

Gale groans. 

This is off to a wonderful start. They are already annoying each other. 

“Are you going to make me stand out here all night? Where ever did your manners go, Gale?” 

“You’ve already been invited inside, or do you need to be invited in every time?”  

Astarion chuckles taking a step into the entryway, “I was being polite.” 

“I will show you to your room.” 

You follow Gale and Astarion up the stairs. Gale had chosen which room Astarion would stay in, and it just so happened to be the furthest room from yours. He had touted that it was the room that got the least amount of direct sunlight, but you weren’t so sure that was the real reason. 

“So, tell me, Astarion, what kind of trouble have you been getting into the last couple of years?” 

Your heart slams against your ribs. Naturally, you have wondered the same but refrained from asking because you aren’t sure you truly want to know the answer. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

“I would actually.” Gale’s tone is icy and confrontational. 

He’s trying to spur on Astarion. 

You stare at Gale with a skeptical look, but he is too busy glaring keenly at Astarion to notice. You had never known him to incite arguments. He was more likely to try and stop them before they started than to actually go searching for one. 

Odd. 

Astarion stares back at Gale with an easy, relaxed smile. He won’t be so easily enticed into an argument, “You know me, a little bit of this, a little bit of that.”  

You know that’s all the information he will divulge. He’s being intentionally vague, giving nothing away. 

“This room is yours.” 

Astarion walks in, looks around and whistles before smirking, “Nice curtains.” 

On cue, Gale points to you, “She picked them.” 

Astarion’s eyebrow cocks up in a clever glance, “Oh, I don’t know about that. They scream dull wizard more than draconic sorceress.” 

You laugh, and Gale groans loudly.  

“She told me a little about what you like to do during the day.” 

Astarion eyes you with an amused look, one that screams he’s about to say something he probably shouldn’t. 

Don’t do it. 

“Did she now?” His finger comes to his chin, and his eyebrow cocks handsomely, “I’m curious. What did she tell you I like to do during the day.” 

You feel yourself redden again, and he stifles a laugh, knowing he managed to fluster you. 

Ugh.  

Gale looks at you with a furrowed brow but continues, gracefully skipping over the awkwardness, “She said you like to read, so I’ve had the library windows draped, as well as most of the lower floor so you can move around freely during the day. I’d stay away from the upper floors unless you would like to be a pile of ash.” 

“Your generosity truly knows no bounds, Gale. Thank you.” 

Gale laces his hands behind his back and bows shallowly, “You’re welcome, my friend. I shall leave you to get settled then. Make yourself at home.” 

Gale strides away and disappears down the hall, muttering to himself under his breath. Your ears can’t pick up what he’s saying, but from the look on Astarion’s face, he definitely can.  

“He’s certainly in a tizzy.” He chuckles.  

“You goaded him, Astarion.” 

His hand comes to his chest dramatically, “I did no such thing!” He mewls, “How should I know what you told him about what, or rather whom, I like to do during the day?” 

You feel that familiar flush rush up to your face again. 

This Gods damn man! 

He snickers at you, “You’re too easy, darling.” 

“You should be nicer to him. He did change his home to accommodate you, after all.” 

He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, “I never asked to stay here. I was perfectly content to stay at the inn.”  

“It’s dangerous, Astarion.” 

“Darling, I’ve spent two centuries learning how to blend in. I can take care of myself.” 

You roll your eyes at him, “You couldn’t blend into a crowd if you tried.”  

“Is that so? Care to tell me why not?” 

He knew why. He was well aware that he turned heads everywhere he went. He thrived on the attention. It had often been a point of contention between you and him. There weren’t many places to go during the night, but you two would often go to the tavern for a drink to get out of the house, and he was constantly being fawned over. 

People would “accidentally” bump into him, "trip” in front of him to elicit a response and all other manner of convoluted attempts to get his attention. The most exceedingly brazen individuals would simply try and push you out of the way or wedge themselves between you. 

It didn’t phase him, of course. His eyes were always on you, and only you, but you had a fiery jealous streak, and no matter how well he disregarded all advances, it drove you crazy. 

“You know why.” 

He smiles devilishly, “Yes, but I do enjoy hearing you say it.” 

“Goodnight, Astarion.” 

“Goodnight, my dear.” 

Your bedroom door closes with a quiet click, and you take deep breaths, trying to steady your frantically beating heart. 

Why does he have this effect on me? He barely has to look at me before my heart is trying to leap out of my throat. Worse yet, he can hear it. 

You curse your body for being so obvious to read. You’re an open book to him. All he has to do is listen to the racing of your heart, the hitching of your breath, or oftentimes, all of the above, and he will know what you are feeling. 

Foolish, foolish woman. 

Changing into your night clothes, you crawl into bed and fall into your trance fitfully.  

Thank you to all those who read/like/comment/follow/reblog/etc. It really does brighten my day, and I hope you're enjoying reading this as much as I enjoy writing it.

Small Notes:

- Thinking about giving Tav a name, and as I don't generally like to use "Tav" (feels too generic, but I suppose that's the point), it would be something else. I can understand that it might be a little jarring at this point in the story though, so let me know how you feel about the idea. Hate it? Love it? Don't care either way? Let me know!

- I promise we are going to start spicing things up soon, but expect a rather slow burn... if I can convince Tav to keep her pants on.

If you're interested, I also write a fanfic for Ascended Astarion x Spawn Tav - Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Chapter 1: Abandonment

AO3: [Crossposted]

#astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #bg3 #astarion smut #astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate astarion #astarion romance #astarion

[its-actually-minicika]

Dragon Sickness

Part 2;

Pairing: Bookcanon!Aemond x Strong!Niece!Reader;

Warnings: No usage of Y/N, bookcanon Greens, potential spoilers for Fire&Blood (but not really), dubious consent, allusions to sex, to male masturbation and oral from Aemond (female receiving - he just wants to tickle your pickle with his fingers and mouth but yk), slight angst, minor and major character death, vague descriptions of death by asphyxiation;

For the sake of keeping characters as close to canon as I can, the eye that Aemond lost was his right, not his left!

Word Count: 7k+;

Author's Note: Repost because yeah...

Reblogs would be really appreciated, since I believe I was shadowbanned :") ♡

Sorry for taking so long with getting this next part out ♡ I wanted to make sure it's perfect (or as close to perfect as I can get it), because the last thing I desire is to post something I'm not proud of/I wouldn't personally read :")

This gif was made by the love of my life and the moon to my sun - @aemondx here on Tumbr ♡ if you aren't already following her, definitely follow her right now now. I'll wait. The story will wait. She is absolutely amazing, and the sweetest person ever.

I also dedicate this chapter to my literal soulmate @diamantesprincess , who beta-read this whole shit-storm for me, and supported my insane antics ♡

Young girls dream about their wedding day. And women prepare themselves for the humiliation bestowed upon them by the night.

Her cheeks flushed with the expectancy that was thrown before her – the avid sting that prickled her skin, flooded her veins and broke her soul. She could feel her smooth-green gown stick to her contorted form. The horrid fires of lashing out already licking at the corners of her downturned mouth.

The Velaryon thus swallowed thickly, whilst flickering her eyes by nigh to each corner of the squaring table. She needn’t glance into the silver plating to ensure what she had known, simply owed to the salacious heat that downed her heart in poisoned terror. How vexing it had been for her to hear the former Queen about – darting to her wedding night, hinting at her lack of purity. How terribly uncertain she’d felt, when Aemond all but abandoned her on that rueful and exerting night.

She’d searched feverishly for his company, trying to converse with him, to allude him to take interest, to inspire him to like her. But her attempts were answered with indifference, with clumsy lines of conversations, which never led her far in musings.

“– Even so, I trust that you understand your duty.”

She couldn’t have been quiet for long. For she felt how her mouth lulled opened, if only to blurt out a passive admission to Alicent’s extended words. Still she felt the decades pass, turning her old, and mean, and cold, as an ample flood of pain engulfed her sparring and incisive heart. The Queen Dowager sighed, either by lack of blitheness or by wry exhaustion, and merely shook her head at the sight of the conflicted bastard.

She supposed she should be grateful – for a private bedding brought across no prying eyes upon her form, upon her skin and womanhood; upon the shame she would soon feel, to spread her legs for the Qybor who slayed her kin. But a private bedding meant she'd have to be alone with him. A private bedding was unsafe, for it meant her maiden blood wouldn't have to be the one staining their rivetting sheets. And Aemond had killed men before, his flesh and blood, innocent spawn – so was there anything that would ensure he wouldn't cut her very throat?

A silent tear obscured her view, and one of Helaena’s beetles boldly flew nearby her plate.

Satin green and oryx white, silky blue and striking violet.

To be born a female was a wright cursed account.

Upon her birth, she belonged to her father. And when he died, she fitted Daemon. She suited to her brother, Jace, to the whims of the New Seven, and very soon to those of Aemond.

To be born a female stripped one of all crass autonomy.

When she was young, her Septa was the one to tell her the story of her cursed birth – how she was good and quaint and quiet, how she had not ensued hard labour. How her mother cried when she saw her small and portly face. And how she sighed with great relief at the notion of her naked sex.

Benevolence was to be found within the weakness of a poor female.

‘The girls are easier than the boys,’ The woman nodded as she spoke, ‘They're less rowdy and quick to anger. Easier to marry, too.’

To be born a female meant a deconstructive marriage. Simply something that must happen, not a matter of debate.

To be born a female meant fantasizing about that marriage. Salaciously filling your head with hopeful dreams of charming knights, or handsome princes and comely lords.

To be born a female was underestimated work. Work put up by sons and fathers, whose sole purpose of providing to the girl was to find her a well-suited husband.

A future to be well decided, set in stone and judged quite harshly – all in valour of a missing cock, and a lack of tiny stones.

When Rhaenyra married Daemon, she was happy for her loving mother.

‘I want to be just as beautiful on my wedding day!’ Her voice chirped through the halls of Dragonstone, whilst rotating about the room, chased by an ongoing Jace, ‘We’ll have a pigeon cake the size of a young hatchling, and a venue bigger than that made of the smallfolk of King’s Landing!’

‘Maybe one that smells better, though,’ Jace snickered inside her ear, earning a brisk tickle from his younger sister, ‘But you’re right, it’s better to stay realistic!’

A loud fit of giggles erupted from the waiting children. Rhaenyra only glanced at Daemon, who in turn shook his head, bemused by her swallowing visions.

‘Whatever prompts you to even believe your mother and I will allow such a thing?’ The Rogue Prince graced her with a trumping smirk, as the girl’s face fell in a childish and pathetic slouch.

‘I’ll have to get married one day!’ She rebutted her stepfather, ‘With a strong knight in shining armour, or a chivalrous Lord from an important House!’

‘There will be yet some time before that happens, sweet girl.’ Rhaenyra grinned at her daughter’s eagerness, pushing down the bittersweet feeling that gnawed beneath her bludgeon gown. She placed her hand atop her cheek and gingerly grazed the youth’s plumpness with a soft, motherly touch. ‘A couple of years from now on, at best!’ She hummed into her tender caress and opened her mouth to speak again, but Jacaerys’ mellow voice cut the base of her dream short.

‘I would be very careful with what I want,’ He mimicked a serious and grieving tone, ‘So far you could only marry Tyland Lannister or Kermit Tully!’

Her eyes widened to the size of two round plates, and the young Velaryon merely scrunched her nose up in dissatisfaction. ‘Kermit wouldn’t be that bad…’ She tried to reason with herself, ‘And his sister, Celia, is very nice! We would get along quite well.’

‘Of course, of course –’ Jace nodded in understanding, before throwing Luke a mischievous look, ‘Or you could always marry Aemond – he’d be quite a match, you know!”

Silence ensued for a while, until all three children broke down in their hysteric fits of laughter.

‘Oh, Gods be good…!’ She murmured lowly, shock and aversion evident on her once impatient face.

She’d found herself someone who loved her, someone whom she could amply trust. A man that’d be reliant for her, in her times of greatest fraught.

When the War of Ravens first ensued, it was he and her small brothers who went to deliver envoys. When Luke died, it was he who mended and arranged the curdling scheme of Blood and Cheese. And when Aemond took a hold of Harrenhal, cruelly burning at their allies’ lands… it was he who gave his life in an attempt to free their folk.

“Gods be good…!” Her voice strained through the musings of her handmaiden, so preoccupied with lacing up her constricting and excessive corset. “Could you go in any tighter?” Her snapping question deterred the young girl to remove her calloused hands from the fine silks that engulfed her. All of the other women who tended to her hair and eyes took a backwards convoluted step and, as if whipped across the face and wholly burnt by dragon fire, they froze up in minute poses – all of them gripping their hands, and looking down in taught submission.

Breathless and submerged in bashness, her reddened lips pressed to a line, as her gaze followed their in suit, falling on the stone below her.

“I’m sorry,” She began with a taut pitch, while expelling one of her brisk and tantalising breaths, “I didn’t mean to shout at you. That was below any level of discretion.”

"W-Would you like us to continue, Your Grace?" One of the older-looking wenches dared to ask the fair Velaryon.

No, she ached to bring herself to say, I'd stay like this, still half-undressed. Unpresentable for him to take.

"Of course," Her meek voice echoed in reply, "You must make haste to get me ready. The wedding is in but an hour."

Tens of dozen of pairs of hands flooded her every sensation with their ceaseless and insistent prodding. The softest of the cluster played with the slicked ends of her charcoal hair, adorning it with a myriad of pins and jewels, grazing her scalp with heavy and relenting hairstyles. Now there was prudence in her tying corset – as if she were a rabid beast who’d sink her claws into their necks, if only she’d feel indisposed by their way of picked-up working.

For the first time since her ladies swarmed into her darkened chamber, the girl’s leer settled on the gown before her. She took in a quick breath through the margins of her teeth, whilst feeling her stomach wail and churn with an unkept overzeal.

Her dress was of a deep set black, which seemed more fitting for a funeral than for a joyous feast precarred soon after by a most imposing wedding. Yet upon a closer look, the brims which laced its puffy bottoms smiled to her in rueful red.

Surprise etched upon her face, and the coy women must have noticed, for they all stopped forthwith again. She brought a hand to the light fabric, and grazed it slowly with her fingers.

She almost hummed in chasmal worry, before fixating her eyes away.

“Apologies, but who told you to bring this dress?” Her voice reverberated with a faint but levelled question, and a retort came back her way.

“The Prince Aemond, Your Grace,” What she assumed was a slight seamstress replied for the whole gathering, “He requested that his vest should also bear your House’s symbols.”

Surprise merged with upheld amusement, until her judgement simmered down to a least lenient of views – since the Blacks were there no more, what point was there for an exorbant gown with any shades of ghastly Green?

No matter his good-hearted message, Aemond hadn’t done it for her. Just like Alicent hadn’t proposed a marriage with her son for her clemented and invested sake.

Her family was dead. All she knew had gone with them – swallowed wholly by the sea, or by Sunfyre, by Vhagar.

There was no more point for her to wear his sickly green. There was no reason for the usurpers to display their endless rows of utter power.

“I see,” Her vocal cords strained with her roughened and perturbed reply, “It’s very beautiful,” She whispered not a heartbeat later, as she turned to the appraised seamstress, “Thank you. You must have worked very hard.”

As everyone resumed their tasks, a trailing truth pierced through her heart – she now had no family left to lead her to the Greater Sept.

His collar fell too tight on him.

He noticed late, as she approached him.

He swallowed thickly once before her, as his burnt brother gripped her hand.

Her softened smile lit up her face, though the disgust within her eyes unveiled her sickly mild facade. A rattled thought surged through his chest, mending with akin distraught. He knew full well she didn’t love him, but at the least, he’d have to try. The subtlety of her rejection stabbed right through his nervous gut, but still the Prince looked down upon her, gracing her with a half-smile.

The ease with which she then returned it relieved the throbbing underneath his leather patch, and as she mouthed him her timid greeting, the man bowed deeply in reply.

“You may now cloak the bride, and bring her under your protection.” The Septon’s voice instructed deeply, snapping both out of their trance.

His calloused fingers unclasped the belts from his broad and heaving shoulders – the cape fell heavily into his hands, yet Aemond still approached his Lady, and placed the Targaryen embroidered mantle atop her tense and fragile shoulders.

Brown eyes clashed with an unnerving lilac – both bride and groom sucked in a breath, and yet refused to look away.

The silence of the Sept was deadly, and as Aemond closed his eye, allowing his relentless thoughts to slip into a hurried prayer, he swore that every witness to their union would hear the keen beats of his heart.

The High Septon clasped his wrinkled hands together, drawing a faint and muffled noise which reverberated through the clearing – signalling to the lost children to place their hands into the other’s.

His Lady was the first to reach him. Shyly she grazed his palm with the smooth padding of her index finger, flattering an anxious probe which distilled his wilted heart, and brought heat into his cheeks.

Her small diversion urged him to press back into her – with a doubting and reserved caress made with his thicker middle finger.

The man bit into his inner cheek, as he aligned his palm to hers, and waited patiently for the Septon to bind their hands with the white linen.

“In sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one, for eternity.”

Her thumb gently caressed his own in an attempt to soothe his breaths. Though her smile had broadened yet, her eyebrows twisted to a brazen furrow. The old man hummed with unturned patience, and he nodded at their leisured and unhurried movements.

“Look upon each other and say the words.”

His chest tightened with unruly pride, as her cheeks flushed with a deep colour, which grew to match the lacings of her fitted cobbler – both took a moment to compose themselves, before Aemond’s voice filled the room with the silk-smooth baritone of his levelled and protruding tone.

“Father, Smith, Warrior,” His lone orb swirled with both uncertainty and desire, as her own voice ushered him suit, “Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger.”

Her chest heaved with a weighty exhale, and her pushed bosom shifted in her dainty dress. Abashed by his sexual intrusion, Aemond focused his left eye on the shape of her inviting lips.

Though they said the words in unison, only her better half beset his ears, “I am his, and he is mine.”

“From this day, until the end of my days,” The Targaryen hushed in return.

Thousand of cheers erupted in the Great Sept, and Aegon even whistled lowly, but nought of the crowd’s boastful words engrained themselves into his mind.

“With this kiss, I pledge my love.”

His mouth pressed hungrily against her own, with a force and desperation that dispersed her every hope for a chaste, intimate peck. The shape of his lips moulded against her with an ease that left her wanting – wanting for it to end, for him to stop, for him to keep going.

His scent invaded her diluted senses, and flashes of her brothers’ faces danced across her hazy view. And just as Aemond was about to deepen and take his uncouth ministrations further, the greying Septon interjected with a subtle but alluding cough.

Despite the fact that he refused to speak to her since the incursive night of their engagement, the palpable need and excitement that seemingly had gathered in him burst for all high lords and petty maidens to see. Coveting whispers reached the girl’s reddened ears – each muttered truth more beguiling than the last.

‘A Kinslayer and a bastard… what an ill match for the grandeur of the Great Sept.’

With her mouth slightly agape and her breath still somewhat staggered, the former Velaryon avoided his stare, with an adamant and willful steer.

Her own eyes began to water. And the aching sadness that curled into her vrying soul muted out any reminder of the crowd’s elated boasts.

What had happened was now irreversible; and the Greens would host a banquet in honour of the newlyweds. Goblets would drown her violent sorrows, food would fill them like fattened-up pigs for cutting.

Aemond would breach her with his cock if he felt disposed to do it. Then he might smother her face, or cut her throat with the same dagger that he used on her late brother.

For why else would he deny a prim and proper bedding ceremony?

Though her eyes still looked at him, and a smile still spurred her lips, the girl swallowed down a prayer.

Perhaps he had grown to like her. She’d been good to him in those past weeks.

The High Septon yelled over the cheering crowd, cutting down each thought that breached through her weary and misguided mind.

“Let it be known that they are now one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder!”

Then cursed be she, in the light of the Seven.

The dizzying nature of the fifth waltz of the night left everyone in the Great Hall drained and panting – fully taken by the mistifying anticipation caused by the encapsulating ardour of Prince Aemond’s wedding reception. Roaring applauses erupted from the few women seated at the high tables – Aegon’s eyes followed the wanton skirts of the lowborn maidens, and even Helaena disregarded her fattened caterpillar to grace the crowd with her absent-minded stare.

At the centre of the King’s table stood the Court’s styled “star-crossed lovers”, each seemingly preoccupied with avoiding any further dancing at any and all occuring costs.

The girl’s fingers traced over the rim of the wine goblet, glancing from time to time at her newly acquired husband, who seemed hammered in his seat and not at all wanting for chatter. The dim lighting of the candled room sprawled its shadows all across his tired features, which loomed all the more sharp and perusing with each notion of a passing hour. His lack of joyful disposition was clear and evident for all to see – for even his contented mother had chastised him under her breath.

Alas, any notion of stability had at large been long repressed, and not even her able chirping managed to pry at her son’s attention.

As her eyes trailed lower yet, over the arch of his broad chest, and the poignant veins of his clenched fist, the Targaryen gasped at the obvious arousal restrained in his black leather pants. Her face turned promptly to the side, before anyone’s conviction should follow her indiscreet trail.

Another smile graced her red lips, as a very drunkened Lord tripped across her narrow view. He approached her with bemusing boldness, borne out of believed renown, and introduced himself as Quince Webber: a lower lord within the Reach, ‘right across the Arbour seat’. His puffy face was basked in red, an indication of his mind’s plied state – and as he blabbered on his woven lapses on what wedded life should be, the Lady bowed her head with grace, thus managing to stop his spiel.

He slurred over his predicted wordings in a heavy and relentless breath, but still managed to congratulate the twain for their well-thought-out alliance.

“Thank you, my Lord, I am indeed very lucky.” Her cheeks hurt from all the smiling, but still she forced herself to laugh, “Aemond has been very kind to me.” She turned to face his stare, abashed, and allowed her hand to touch him. The charcoal leather of his broidered vest burnt her at the faintest touch, and the girl had to stifle a gasp at the arid heat which charred her palm.

“He has, he has!” The lord of Coldmoat agreed well-pleased. A wolfish grin spread across his droopy face, pulling both his plump cheeks higher. An impish laugh beleft his lips, as he took a swing of liquor from a nearby empty glass.

The corner of her smiling eye darted back to that of Aemond, who merely glanced through the drunk lord with a horriedly vexated look.

“Although,” He teased them with a slurred hic, “I can’t say he’ll be nice to you when the bedding ceremony will ensue!”

Wholeheartedly amused at his inappropriate and shrivelled joke, the old man began to laugh, much to Aemond’s disarray.

His fists came into contact with the sprawled-out wooden table, shaking every cutlery which remained scattered across it. The lively whispering of the Great Hall ceased with his vicious display, and even his contented brother jerked his shoulders in dismay.

“Aemond,” Alicent spat out his name, as her face turned cold and wary. “Perhaps it’s time you two retire.”

A restless snarl etched from his throat, and he looked ready to pounce – were it not for the soft hand that touched him, and the sanity utter of her voice, which managed to somewhat reground him, and contort poor Webber’s choice.

But as cruel fate would weave and have it, another end would spend their night.

“Aemond,” His Lady tried to coax him in, “Let’s listen to your mother… please?” Her fevered eyes adamantly searched for his, until a strange yearning and passion registered on his reluctant face. His hand gripped hers in pure devotion, and his large thumb ran over her flaring knuckles, as she'd done so many times before for him.

The lord’s lost face painted over with uncouth excitement, and he turned his back around, almost hitting Daeron’s face.

“It’s time for the bedding ceremony!” He announced the crowd quite loudly, and tens of voices of plastered men rose with every passing second. Some of them swarmed close to the couple, some tried to pick the girl from her leering resting place. Most barely launched up their feet, struggling to uphold their balance.

“There will be no bedding ceremony tonight.” Aemond’s dark and frigid voice thundered through the cluttered hall. Women sighed in great relief, while the men and boys began to bicker.

“It’s tradition!”

“I’ve been told specifically that it would take place.”

“Such stupidity!”

“I bet Renly six gold dragons that –”

“The King long announced there would be none.” Otto’s otherwise calm voice resounded with a harshened tone.

“Has he now?” A slurring lord took three wide steps in the direction of the pressured lady. Her whole face morphed into preleened discomfort, as she placed both her hands upfront. “Oh, don’t you even think about it…!” She warned him with a throaty hiss, but before his hand could graze her, Aemond grabbed his arching fists.

When his nervous gaze settled on his face, he smiled.

The lord clawed at his darkened neck, for Aemond forced him in a kneeling stance, and wrapped his hands around his throat. The timber in his chilling voice rained affront with his obduring malice, sending a shiver down the bent spines of the mere on-watchers, “You wish to gaze upon my wife tonight, Lord Ashford?” The callous ends of his slim digits dug into his purple skin, “You want to see her naked form, and compare her dripping sex to your own wife’s loosened cunny?”

The older man opened his mouth – but the pressure on his wielded neck impedimented his speaking manner and, much like a fish that’d been hoisted out of water, he could barely form a word.

“N…No-n-no – I’m s-s-”

“You’re sorry?” His eyebrows rose in feigned surprise. His wails of anguish pierced his heart – and yet his grip didn't uncurl. “You’re sorry now, are you?”

“Aemond, that is enough!” Alicent’s chastising shouts failed to break his unsound trance. Among the mistifying flock of ladies, the Velaryon stood high, but frozen. Her parlous specks of deep brown eyes bore into the shocking scene, as her own transfigured hand prodded at her covered neck.

"You've heard, perhaps, what happened with little Luke Strong, the bastard.” Her own eyes widened at his cruel retorts, and her deft fist grabbed at her skirts. Despite it being aimed to scare the stupid and unbashful lord, Aemond’s dicey did nought else but expose her to the whole crowd whole.

The heated blade of loss and ire impaled her through her aching chest, cutting both her breath and temper and deterring her to simply shake.

“– I'll gouge your eyes out and present them as a wedding gift to my wife."

Little Luke. Jace. Rhaenyra. Daemon.

Joff. Rhaenys. Corlys. Allyn.

Baela. Rhaena. Viserys. Aegon.

“I-I’m b– begging you–”

Little Luke. Jace. Rhaenyra. Daemon –

“Then beg. Beg my wife for her forgiveness.”

Joff. Rhaenys. Corlys. Allyn –

“My L– My Lady, p-please…!”

Baela. Rhaena. Viserys. Aegon.

Mother, mother, mother, mother –

“Please, Aemond, stop! Just stop!” Her own voice screeched into the balling clearing, as the sound of breaking bones and the smell of copper blood menged right through her very veins. “Stop. It’s enough. It’s alright. I’m alright. Please–”

Her panicked breathing flooded her ears. Her lack of presence drowned her in.

Her husband threw her an affrighted look, as he instantly let go of the man’s entwisted neck.

He crawled closer to his own wife’s feet. His piqued-up breathing staggered for a brief momentum.

For two or three seconds they waited.

And then quietness enwrapped the Realm.

Her honeyed voice had reached his ears.

"We're man and wife now, you and I.” She began with a faint murmur, and a small smile on her lips, “We must start talking to each other. Eventually, I mean."

She spoke to him in utter earnest, despite her voice’s nervous edge.

Alas he must not have replied to her, for her body shifted in her narrow seat, ducking away from him in recluded and uptight tension. “I’d like there to be no secrets between us – I’d like for us to tell each other whatever happens to be on our mind.”

The alluring scent of her dark hair, the creamy skin of her bare shoulders…

His breathing turned close to erratic, as he morphed his hands to fists. But two waltzes he had danced with her, before he felt his breeches tighten, bringing forth his quaint undoing.

He would have stayed in bitter silence, focused on the passing hours – were it not for the unlucky words that the brittle lord had uttered.

Oh, and how she looked into his eye; full of shock and brittle terror.

She must have been scared of him. For she was shaking like a leaf.

The walk to their marital chamber loomed with ever-pressing silence.

If only he could read her thoughts – then he might just mend his error.

“I rather liked the pigeon pie.” Her voice came out as weak and gruff, “Though it was far too big for those at present.”

When his answer wouldn’t beckon, the Lady turned and closed her eyes. She snapped her head in his direction, faltering her present smile. “I think that what you did was very chivalrous and brave, my Prince.”

The corner of his left eye widened, as her words registered in. The margins of her flimsy skirts kissed the ground atop her form – the swish and flicker of the candles remained the only source of noise.

The corners of his mouth bent slightly, at her ludicrous but fair assertion. Whether he had meant to thank her, or kiss her on that very spot, the Prince failed to puzzle out. Though his step halted in place, and his face turned briskly to her.

“Aemond,” He sighed, reluctant, whilst awaiting for her change of heart, “You said it yourself, we’re man and wife. You should start calling me Aemond.”

Her daring eyes looked up right through him, dissolving to a kindred stare. “Then you should also use my name… Aemond.” She uttered with a playful tone, testing his name upon her lips. “Though I… much prefer it when you call me ‘wife’.”

His reply was fast, forthright, “I’ll call you whatever you wish.”

“Then…” She began with a weak mutter, allowing her hair to hide her face, “No, forgive me, never mind.”

“Tell me,” He commanded with grave urgency.

Tell me of anything and I will make it yours.

“Mayhaps,” His Lady paused a while again, “You’d agree to call me your ‘dear wife’?”

His cock twitched inside his pants. The blood that pigmented his face descended lower in its lax pursuit.

All that you need do is ask.

“Anything you want,” His voice rumbled in a breathless timber before he could stop himself, “Dear wife.”

She must have thanked him with a smile again. All she did those days was smile.

She smiled when that low lord approached her. She smiled at her engagement feast. She smiled when Aemond took her dancing.

“I trust,” Alicent had swallowed deeply, “That your mother already taught you what’ll occur after the wedding.”

Better said during the bedding. When she’d be forced to spread her legs for the one man who’d damned them all.

She smiled when Aegon named her bastard. She smiled at the mention of her sweet dead brother.

She hummed as she touched her fingers, rotating her golden rings.

“What of Aly Blackwood?” Her eyes pried at her heavy conscience, “You said that if I marry Aemond, you’d think of a way to release her and make peace with Benjicot’s House.”

–

Her trail of thought was pulled before her, like a feeble dream which she won't reach.

The handle of a leaden door was yanked, pulsing the quaint hall with clatter, and basking her with a warm light.

“We’re here.”

Though wailing dread flooded her senses, her voice came out in slight bemusement.

“It isn’t furnished.”

“I wanted you to have a say.” The depthness of his mellow tune carried out his crass remark, “I didn’t know how many dresses you’d have.”

The notion of her moving in, of sleeping side by side with him, of sharing a bed and a mattress and a bath with him – it hadn’t failed to make her snort.

Hidden from his plane of sight, she allowed a distant scowl to break in her pretty features.

She wanted to scream and shout. To lash out in grave disconcern the moment his revolting hands came in contact with her lower back, urging her to step inside. She wanted to laugh at him – at the sight of his scarred face, his forceful probe and lack of honour.

“You’re so thoughtful, Aemond. Thank you.”

A grave unease surged in her gut. Pure fright prickled at the apex of her thighs. Her once loose dress seemed to constrict her form from running – from hitting him over the head and at last make her escape.

A pained sigh escaped his lips – the One-Eyed Prince who killed her family.

The Kinslayer. The Trident’s Terror. The Prince Protector of the Realm.

Almost as if he could sense her worry, the lithe Targaryen beckoned her in.

There’d been a moment when he only looked at her, bearing holes into her face and the front lobe of her skull, as his thick brows twisted slightly, jarring in misguided silence. Her jaw clenched involuntarily, as his face hithered in closer. She closed her eyes for two, three seconds, before she opened them again.

The lack of ease with which he gawped at her would have dearly made her laugh. The great and feared Aemond Targaryen, so incursed, taken aback.

He exhaled deeply in connived frustration, and simply took a few steps back. A rumbled hum of welting havoc trailed behind his high-arched lips, and a simple look of ardour was engraved on his sharp face.

The hands which had been snaked around her let her go within an instant, and as a curse sprung from his throat, the man found refuge and retreat towards the blazing fireplace. The girl followed his lenient steps, which faltered near the goatskin armchair.

His hands moved in accord with stress. Stiffly he had poured himself a hefty glass of liquid courage – swallowing it down with haste, and indifference towards the spectacle that he made with his demeanour.

His hands were shaking. His gulps of dark and bitter wine accentuated with every guise of stolen looks he dared to throw and hatch her way. At one point through his fretful jitter, the Prince snapped with a scorned hiss.

"Do you reckon you need help with your black dress, my dearest wife?” The rattled edge within his voice echoed through the room's long walls – his tone was mystified by pain, by torturous need, and want, and lust.

"N-No, my love, that I do not." She tried with shear to reach her lacings, as her mouth quirked with a smile. The desolation in her orbs spun the man to heave a sigh – his wobbled hand to reach his collar, and pull at it with forced renown.

Multitudes of scattered feelings reveled on her softened face – pain and fear, disgust and anger, lack of confidence and broad distress.

Inch by inch she thus revealed patches of her creamy skin. Feeling all her fingers stiffen with perturbed stilling discomfort, shame and angst and staid mistrust.

Although her corset was now loosened, the source of air within her lungs remained scarce and all the same.

She maintained his carnal stare, watching how his one eye darkened, turning to an opaque black. His lips pressed into a line, his furrowed brows deepened his stare – he gulped another hoist of wine and swallowed thickly at her chaffing stare. His adam's apple bobbed up and down in repressed bewilderment and apt surrender. His weary mind surged with a vast contrast of thoughts, each one more torturous and sparse than the mentioned fleeting latter.

He felt utterly inadequate.

He'd touched and fucked women before – handmaidens that caught his eye, wenches that offered their heat, servant girls who lured him in.

But none had managed to prepare him for the unrelieved pressure of her. Of the one woman he loved, of the one he wanted most.

She'd been kind to him when they were children – and remained polite throughout when he dared to rain his anger on his ludicrous half-sister.

He regretted every hostile instance where he hurt her with his words. And every bite full of prone venom, that he threw her brothers' way.

He regretted how he acted, when he killed the raucous lord. How he taunted him with perverse pleasure, how he named Luke's shocking perish right across from his sweet wife – knowing somewhere all too well that she'd take offence to it.

His face felt numb, his limbs felt heavy. He wanted to denude her slowly, to prode at the extended nature of her smooth and nuanced skin. To devote himself to her fair pleasure, to worship the slickness of her womanhood with a reverence and love perturbed.

He longed to lay his masculinity at the altar of her maidenhood, get on his knees and devout his being to making her peak with him – on his tongue, on his slim fingers, on his chin, or on his face.

He’d read the ways to get a cunt wet – it would take no less good skill and incredible amounts of patience; but for her, he’d gladly wait, and gently stretch her virgin hole, with the aid of his firm touch and the pulsing of his deepened voice.

He closed his eye in a small prayer, as he begged his Gods for guidance – to be able to bring her to the heightened cliffs of sinful rapture, to be able to prove himself as a man fit for her needs.

To make her love him in return, perhaps, and make her see his side of things.

As he remained hammered in place, trying his hardest to regain control over his trembled conscious and his indulgent thoughts, the man failed to notice how his Lady made impressive progress into her methodical and empty musings.

Her head hung low as she undid the lacings of her fitted garment. Her eyes were cast in shadowed doubt and in utter lack of certainty – her breathing came as fast and laboured, and her hands with-held a tremor with every new poignant display of another patch of skin.

Unbeknownst even to her, hot tears of merciless aversion rolled off her rosy cheeks, landing on her petticoat and the cold stone ground below them.

The Prince sucked a jarring breath, as she turned to face the bed with a heartbreaking and crushed compliance. Her softened eyes peered at his form, and a forceful smile unfurled along the corners of her swollen lips.

His expression must have tightened, and his form recoil in slightly – for her hazy eyes enwrapped him, and her shapely brow rose up.

“Aemond…?” She tried to lace her voice with sweetness, “Do you–” The latter words died on her lips, and she remained with her mouth parted, until her thoughts surged loudly clear.

“Should I… d-do you want me to sit in any way?”

The hoarseness in her tender voice made the man pale in disgrace.

“You’re scared of me.” He long admitted, with a rough and neutral tone.

Aemond’s feet carried him slowly, towards the place in which she stood. When his hand came to rest over her wet cheek, she stiffened up and almost winced.

“Why are you so afraid of me?” The desperation in his utter broke the silence of their spacious room, “I would never hurt you. I would sooner die than see you in pain.”

Realisation settled in, and her lost face morphed with awareness. She brought her palm smooth on his own, and searched despairingly to entwine their hands together. When she opened her mouth to speak, she blinked away her forming tears.

“No, my P– Aemond. I could never be afraid of you.”

“Yet here you stand,” He murmured weakly, “Half-naked before me, and shaking.”

“The chamber just feels very cold.” His wife hung onto the excuse. “I’m sorry, I didn’t – I swear to you that I do want this –”

“I will not bed you.” He hummed as he wiped off her tears – a soft and feeble grazing led about by the callous ends of his smooth pads.

Her face breached forward with mistrust, as her weary mouth lulled open, “W-What? No, Aemond, believe me, I–”

“I will not bed you,” The Prince repeated to her gently, “Not until you ask me to.”

A disgruntled and affronted sigh left the high arch of his lips, yet an understanding look rained across his lustful stare. The one hand which hung loosely by his side trailed a slow path to her jolting shoulder. He swallowed thickly before speaking, pushing down his burning desire.

"Ziry iksos ao qilōni lurksas issa kesīr." The meek admission in High Valyrian made her relax into his touch, "Nyke jāhor daor gaomagon mirros bona mazverdagon ao zūgagon."

The Prince staggered with a shaky breath, whilst looking her into the eye. "Skoro syt kostagon ao ūndegon bona?"

Although she tried so hard to speak, not a word etched from her throat. She nodded in undisplayed wonder, and gripped her husband by the shirt.

He took her balling fists in his, and kissed atop the even skin.

Thoughts strengthened with affirmed abhorrence steered clear through her befuddled mind – there may be hope to fix the error that she so tactlessly set off that night.

And yet before she could place Aemond’s hands down the shape of her small back, the Prince grabbed his sharpened knife, and merely nicked his open palm.

Droplets of deep-crimson liquid seeped into the whitened sheets, and the girl remained upright and frozen, as she watched him clean his blade and rummage through his modest cupboard for a piece of airy cloth.

With one hand he gripped the footboard – and began to firmly shove it into the stone wall up ahead.

The avid creaking of the bed turned into a pleased refrain. One not too fast, but not too slow, which carried on for a few minutes.

Outside their petulant and guarded door, whistles of men and cheers from women crassly seeped into their ears. Though most were muffled down by the sensitive and leal guards, some managed to blurt out half-enthused encouragements upon their midnight escapades.

A flow of compliments descended upon Aemond’s lasting pace – and some of the more improper ladies even dared to coo at her.

“It’ll feel better once you give it time, sweetling!”

“You simply must confine in us what it was like to ride a dragon!”

How utterly humiliating.

Like all bad things within the world, their idle and unseemly chatter ceased after a little while. Aemond sighed and stopped his motions, while granting her a knowing look.

“I’ll remain here for mere more moments. Then I’ll leave you for the night.”

‘N-No!” Her eyes widened in mistrust, as she gnawed her bottom lip. Almost too soon for her own well liking, she’d begged incessantly for him to stay. “Please remain near me, sweet husband… I so long to sleep by you.”

When her words seemed to elude him, she reached for his wounded hand, giving it a slight caress. She pressed her lips atop his cut, and devotedly looked up at him.

“Ao vestretan bona nyke udrāzma ao kesīr. Nyke lurksas bona ao umbagon issa rūsīr."

Aemond drew in a sharp breath, and merely settled on the bed.

“As you wish, my darling wife.”

Translations:

"Qybor" = uncle - specifically, from the mother's side;

"Ziry iksos ao qilōni lurksas issa kesīr. Nyke jāhor daor gaomagon mirros bona mazverdagon ao zūgagon. Skoro syt kostagon ao ūndegon bona?" = 'Tis you who commands me here. I will not do anything that leaves you frightened. Why can’t you see that?

“Ao vestretan bona nyke udrāzma ao kesīr. Nyke lurksas bona ao umbagon issa rūsīr." = You said that I command you here. I order that you stay with me.

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond imagine #house of the dragon #yandere aemond #house of the dragon aemond #prince aemond #aemond one eye #bookcanon aemond #dark aemond #dark aemond fanfic #dark aemond x reader #dark aemond targaryen #aemond x niece reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #aemond x strong reader #house of the dragon slowburn #house of the dragon smut #house of the dragon angst #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd aemond #hotd aegon #hotd alicent #fire and blood #fire and blood fanfic #dragon sickness

[newtthetranswriter]

Delayed Mark

Word count: 5539

Paring: Choso x Gn! Reader

Summary: In a world with soulmates you were the only one born without a mark. After 25 years thinking you will never have a soulmate, your mark randomly appears. Only a few weeks later you find your soulmate during one of the worst curse attacks Jujutsu Sorcerers have seen since the Night parade of a hundred Demons.

Warnings: Spoilers for Choso’s character and history in general, slight spoilers for Kenjaku, Mentions of blood and death, if i missed anything let me know.

A/n: Hello people this has been in the works for a long time but finally got inspiration to finish it. The end might seem a bit rushed but I wanted to finally post it. So you aren’t surprised one satosugu is canon, Shoko x Haibara is real and you can fight me on it. Anyway I hope you enjoy and Remember to Hydrate or Diedrate, I’m looking at you @ness-iness . Also requests are open. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

    I had to be the least lucky person alive. In a world where everyone has a mark on their body to tell them who their soulmate is, I was born without one. It's extremely rare for something like this to happen. No one knows why or how it happened. But when I was born it was evident that I was unmarked, destined to spend forever alone.

When I was younger it wasn't that bad because I didn't fully understand what it meant. Then when I reached middle school and all my friends started meeting their soulmates, I felt left out. My parents tried to tell me that 'maybe it will show up later' or that 'there is someone out there for you even if you don't have a mark.' They even went as far as to say I didn't need a soulmate to be happy. I wanted to believe them but in our world it can be hard, with happy soulmates everywhere you look.

    It became even more apparent when I entered highschool and transferred to Jujutsu Tech. Though the number of people around was small, it was clear that everyone had a soulmate. It felt like fate was rubbing it in my face that I was to be forever alone. And I accepted that I didn't need a soulmate to be happy. Even though I had accepted it, there were still people trying to tell me that having a soulmate was the best thing. I was growing tired of it, until I got to know two fellow sorcerers who had lost their soulmates and believed that even without them they can find a way to be happy.

    There's Saturo Gojo, a special grade sorcerer who's soulmate turned his back on sorcerers and set out to wipe out all non-sorcerers. During an attack on Tokyo and Kyoto, his soulmate was killed trying to attack the first years at Jujutsu Tech. Gojo viewed soulmates as pointless because even though he had one and lost him he was still able to be happy with his life. 

    Then there's Shoko, she was a third year at Jujutsu Tech when her soulmate was killed on a mission he was sent on. It hurt her greatly when she couldn't save him, especially because she is known for using reverse curse technique. She thought while soulmates could be an amazing thing, it was also painful when you lost them and thought maybe things would be better without them.

    Don't get me wrong, Gojo and Shoko both loved their soulmates and wouldn't change having met them. They just thought it could be more painful than what it's worth. I agree, having a soulmate must be wonderful but I don't have one so all I've experienced is the pain of watching others be happy with something I can't have. And so Me, Gojo, and Shoko all tried to make the best of everything. We focused on exercising curses and teaching the next generations of Jujutsu Sorcerers.

    I'm like an assistant teacher to Gojo, helping out the first years when he's out on missions and just helping with training in general. I would also sometimes help the second years if they needed it. 

    Right now I am accompanying the first years on a mission to investigate strange deaths. Three people were found dead just inside their homes or apartment buildings, after having reported odd happenings with the locks or door mechanisms. This fact led the higher ups to believe that it was the work of a cursed spirit and sent the first years to figure it out. I was there to make sure none of them died, instructions from Gojo after what happened with the curse womb at the juvenile detention center.

    We were currently at Megumi's old middle school, talking with faculty about the men who had died, as they had also attended the school in their youth. I wasn't really focused on the conversation as I was there as more of a body guard then an actual assistant for the first years. I felt it best to let them take care of the questions and figure everything out so they could learn for future experiences.

    While Kugisaki and Itadori were poking fun at Megumi for how he used to act in middle school, I started to feel a weird tingling sensation on my left wrist. It was strange, almost like pins and needles. I tried rubbing my wrist to get the feeling to go away but it wasn't working, when I looked at it there was nothing there. 

    After a few minutes of the weird feeling it went away. I was confused as nothing like this had ever happened before. But seeing as there was no evidence that it happened I brushed it off, if it was important there would be evidence that it happened.

    The three students had found out that all of the victims had gone to the same bridge together back when they were in middle school. So they decided to go try and investigate, to see if they could lure out the cursed spirit.

    I had joined them at the bridge as I didn't want to risk the curse showing up without me there. As the three tried different things like walking under the bridge, and even throwing Itadori over the side tied to a string (this nearly gave me a heart attack), to lure out the curse, I stood watch. I was completely focused on watching Kugisaki and Megumi pulling Itadori up, so it startled me that my wrist started to feel weird again.

    At first it was just pins and needles like before, but then it started to burn a little bit. I lifted my wrist to investigate and was shocked to see a small picture forming on the inside of my wrist. It looked like a drop of water based on the outline. I watched as it became more visible, slowly turning to a blood red color. I was extremely perplexed, what the hell is happening, I thought to myself. I was so focused on the mark that I didn't notice the three teenagers walking up to me.

    "Hey Y/n, nothing's happening. Maybe there's another connection or we missed something." Itadori said nearly bouncing over to me. As he got closer he noticed I wasn't paying attention to him. "What are you looking at? Get a scratch or something?" He asked, drawing the attention of the other two.

    Megumi leaned over to take a look at my wrist, also confused as to what had me so distracted. "Holy shit" I heard him mutter as he came to the same conclusion that I was still trying to wrap my head around. "When did that show up?" He asked, confusing his classmates.

    "I-it just showed up. I was just standing here watching you three to make sure nothing happened and my wrist started to tingle and then burn. After that it just slowly appeared." I explained what little I knew about the situation. "Why would this show up now, I've gone my whole life without it being there why is it here now. I was fine and happy without having to worry about it." I started ranting.

    Kegusaki looked at me confused before finally asking the question that perplexed her and Itadori. "What are you talking about and why does Fushiguro know about it?" 

    Knowing I was probably feeling too many emotions to explain anything, Megumi spoke up. "It's complicated and right here probably isn't the best place to explain it." We then met up with our diver at a small convenience store. I had almost completely shut down from the sudden appearance of my soul mark.

    While we were at the convenience store the first years were still trying to figure out what to do to trigger the curse. After a few minutes of getting nowhere Kugesaki got tired of the topic of conversation.

    "We are getting nowhere with this. Let's change the topic for a second." The redhead said, turning to me. "What's up with you? What happened while we were on the bridge?" She was confused yet curious as to what happened. Sure she was being a little pushy about it but that's how she is.

    Megumi moved in front of me to try and deflect the questions, and get back to the assignment. "Let's focus on the curse that's killing people, Kugesaki." As he said this Kugesaki rolled her eyes.

    "Come on Fushiguro, they're here to supervise and make sure none of us die. If their so thrown off by what ever happened, we all need to be made aware." She said making a valid point.

    As Megumi tried to say something else I put my hand on his shoulder and stepped forward. He looked at me concerned but he knew that I wouldn't say anything I didn't want to. "What happened on the bridge that threw me off is, my soul mark appeared. I've lived 25 years without one and was fully prepared to live without it. I don't know what caused it to suddenly appear because if I had a soulmate it would have been there when I was born. I'm still able to watch over you guys, it just startled me." I explained hopefully calming their nerves. "I'm not worried about it, it's probably nothing. Let's just focus on figuring out what's going on with this cursed spirit." Itadori nodded but still looked confused and Kugesaki looked pleased with the explanation.

    As I finished explaining what happened, one of the students from the middle school pulled up on a bike with a young woman asking to talk to Megumi about the weird deaths. The young woman explained that there was a sort of ritual to go out to the bridge. She had also informed Megumi that his sister had done the test of courage as well. Being even more determined to stop this curse, with his sister’s life at stake, we all headed back to the bridge.

    After doing the steps to summon the curse, it seemed we had entered the curse’s domain. As the students began to fight the curse a strange green round curse appeared behind us. When the initial confusion wore off, Itadori offered to take the hideous curse on by himself while the other two delta with bridges curse.

    While the two fights occurred Kugisaki was forced close to the edge of the barrier. I watched in shock as two hands reached through and pulled her out of the barrier. The green curse exclaimed something about his brother being there and rushed out of the barrier. Megumi took charge of the situation and ordered Itadori to go after the curse and assist Kugisaki. I would have stepped in but I had an odd feeling about the curses outside of the barrier. Like in some distant way they weren’t normal curses. I couldn’t react. 

    I was only able to watch as Megumi was able to finish off the cursed spirit that was cursing people. The only problem was the barrier didn’t dissipate. As I was about to ask if he was sure he finished exercising the curse, a more humanoid curse fell from the ceiling. Taking a defensive stance ready to take on the curse, as it appeared to be a much higher grade than the previous curse. Megumi stepped in front of me.

    “I’ll handle this, You were only sent here to keep us from dying. You just wait, if it looks like I’m done, go ahead and step in. It’s not a good idea for you to be using your cursed energy for battle right now.” He said summoning Demon Dog: Totality to help him in the fight. He made a good point, my cursed technique was better for defense and recovery. I could create a simple barrier around myself or someone else that was similar to Gojo’s infinity, but could still be broken with enough force. I am also able to use the reversed curse technique on others, not as efficiently as Shoko but still enough to keep someone on death's door from dying while waiting for Shoko. It made sense for me to wait, my techniques took a lot of energy, and the few offensive abilities I had were not suited for close combat. So I watched waiting for a moment that I would be needed.

    The fight between the special grade and Megumi went on for a while. There were a few points where I almost jumped into the fight but was stopped by the admittedly over confident teenager. Eventually he was able to exercise the curse and retrieve Sukana’s finger. He collapsed shortly after as the barrier disappeared around us. I immediately went to work healing his more major injuries, as he eventually passed out on the ground.

    A few minutes after the dark haired teen passed out the other two students hobbled on to the scene. “Oh my god, is he dead?” Itadori asked, looking at his friend passed out on the ground. This comment received a smack to the back of his head from Kugisaki as she quickly explained he was probably passed out and that I wouldn’t have let him die. He then noticed the cursed object sitting on the ground not far from Megumi and went to pick it up. “Do you want me to carry this since you’re busy healing Fushiguro?” He asked. As I was about to tell him he could as long as he didn’t eat it, a mouth formed on the palm of his hand consuming the finger. 

    I rolled my eyes as he started to defend himself, trying to explain it was Sukana who did that and he didn’t mean too. “It’s fine, Itadori. Next time I’ll just carry it. Now help me get Megumi up and back to the road.” I said moving to stand up, deciding it was time we head back to Jujutsu tech.

    It’s been about a month since the incident at the bridge, and since the mark on my arm appeared. For the most part I’ve ignored it, but when I see it I struggle not to spiral into a long train of questions as to why it randomly appeared, and what triggered it. Shoko proposed that it may have something to do with the two cursed wombs Itadori and Kugisaki killed. She suspected after performing autopsies on the corpses, that they were somehow two of the death paintings that were stolen during the sister school exchange event. She told me that it was possible that the third one was also fused with a human and incarnated into a living being, and it happened to be my soulmate. This thought concerned me, My soulmate was possibly a deformed human corpse fused with a cursed object, great. 

    Though it wasn’t any worse than the idea Saturo had. He had told me with a straight face that it took 25 years for my soulmark to appear because my soulmate hadn’t been born yet and they were probably a couple weeks old at this point. I know he was joking because one, many soulmate pairings had massive age gaps and the older party still had their mark at birth, and secondly because as soon as he saw the look of disgust on my face he burst out laughing his ass off. 

    I was glad that even though jokes were being made, Gojo and Shoko weren’t pushing me away for getting my soulmark. They treated me no differently, after all they had once had their own soulmates with them, even if it was far too short of a time for their liking. And don’t get me wrong I still have a distaste for the thought of soulmates, but for the first time in my life there is actual hope. Maybe it was just a mistake in the universe and whatever gave soulmarks was like shit missed one and fixed it, or maybe Shoko is right and my soulmate is an incarnated cursed object. Who knows but hopefully I find them soon and can experience the joy I’ve witnessed so many times over, even if it’s only for a short moment.

Timeskip to shibuya arc

    It’s been a few weeks since my soulmark appeared and I can’t help but feel anxious. Part of it is the excitement of finally having a soulmate but the other part is things have been getting worse in the Jujutsu community. With suspicion of a traitor at the kyoto school, the first years were requested to investigate. The problem with that was the suspected traitor was nowhere to be found and the trail went cold.

    Just over a week later all hell broke loose at a transit station in Shibuya. Many sorcerers were dispatched to wait as back up in case Gojo was unable to handle the citation. I had been waiting with Nanami, Ino and Megum when we were told to enter the barrier. Not long after entering, the shouts of Yuji Itadori could be heard throughout the veil.  Deciding a change of plans, we met with Itadori and were informed that Saturo had been sealed by the special grade curses that had organized the attack.

    While Nanami went to speak with Ijichi, the rest of us went to look for a way to dismantle the barriers. Currently Megumi and Itadori are fighting the curse user who had the objects creating the barrier, and me and Ino are trying to fight the other two on top of the building. We were given a shock when the man Ino was battling turned into Toji Fushiguro, gaining all the power of the dead sorcerer killer. When we thought things couldn’t get worse Ino was taken out and thrown off the side of the building, knowing I didn’t stand a chance in a fight against Toji I jumped hoping Megumi or Itadori would think of a way to save both of us.

    My prediction was right as one of Megumi’s shikigami caught me and Itadori managed to catch the unconscious Ino. When we landed, the boys told me that the barrier keeping sorcerers out was dismantled. Assessing the situation I came up with a plan that should help us greatly.

    “Ok here’s what’s gonna happen. Megumi and I are going to stay here while I heal Ino enough that he can be moved safely. Itadori you are gonna go try and find wherever Gojo is sealed in Shibuya station. Once I’m sure Ino is safe to move, I’ll follow after itadori to help him out, and Megumi will take Ino to Shoko so she can finish healing him.” I said, causing both boys to look at me in shock. It was a rarity that I would take charge of a situation but there was no time to freeze up right now. Becoming focused on the task of healing my coworker I ignored the boys trusting they will follow instructions.

     After about ten minutes I was confident that Ino would be fine to move, so I sent Megumi off to find Shoko while I went after Itadori. On my way to the station I passed Inumaki using his speech to help control the crowds and protect them from the mutated humans. I stopped for a few minutes to offer help in restoring his throat so it wasn’t too damaged from his technique and then went back to going after Itadori.

     A few minutes after entering the train station, I started to hear the sound of running water. I also noticed that the area I was in was completely destroyed, thinking the two things may be connected to Itadori. I followed the sound and path of destruction. As I got closer to the bathroom I noticed a large amount of water on the floor that was tinted pink from what I’m guessing is someone’s blood. Turning towards the men’s restroom I saw a familiar head of pink hair slumped against the wall.

     “Shit, Itadori are you alright?” I received no response. I kneeled down not caring that my pants would become soaking wet, I checked his pulse with a sigh of relief that he was still alive. Assessing the damage I knew that I would have to get the bleeding in his abdomen to stop or at least slow down a bit, before I could go after the fuck who hurt my student. I began using my reversed curse technique on the boy, focused on hopefully healing him enough that Sukana doesn't see a need to make an appearance.

     As I finished healing what I could, I noticed a strange feeling in my gut. It was almost like I was anxious or scared of something. It made no sense, sure I was worried for my friends and students, and the safety of all the non sorcerer's around during this horrible attack, but this feeling was weird. The feeling was almost like it was coming from someone else. Brushing it off, not having time to deal with this, I moved to follow the wet bloody footprints leading away from the bathrooms, assuming they belonged to whoever or whatever did this to Itadori.

    Rounding the corner as the footprints became harder to follow, the feeling in my gut got worse and an emotion I could only describe as self loathing joined the anxiety and worry. I was even more confused, I had heard before that when close to your soulmate there is a chance to feel their emotions but why on earth would my soulmate be in a place like this hating themself. Once again hoping it was just my imagination I continued my search. I stopped for a second as I started to hear mumbling coming from a little alcove just in front of me along the wall.

     “I almost killed him.” I heard the voice say. I could tell whoever it was, was distressed. “How could I almost kill my own brother?” The voice kept ranting, now I was concerned, this person almost killed their own brother and was now sitting in the deepest reaches of a train station overrun with curses and mutated humans, what was wrong with them.

     I approached the alcove with caution, if this person nearly killed someone they could be extremely dangerous. “Hey, sorry to bother you, but are you Ok?” I asked as I got close enough to see a man, probably in his early to mid twenties curled up on himself. He had medium length hair pulled up in two messy buns at the back of his head, he was also wearing a white robe with a purple vest. I couldn’t quite make out his face as it was buried in his knees but as I got closer to him I could feel the copious amounts of cursed energy flowing off him. It wasn’t as intense as Gojo or Okkotsu, but he was definitely special grade.

     After a few seconds, he jumped slightly looking up at me for only a moment before going back to his rambling. It’s like he didn’t even register that I asked a question. When he looked at me I could see the long black line across his face, to some it may have been an odd feature but to me it made him look more handsome. It may be weird to say but looking at this person curled in on himself with messy hair mumbling about almost killing someone, I couldn’t help but notice he was attractive. It also didn’t help that the longer I kneeled in front of him the more I felt emotions of anxiety and doubt.

      I tried speaking to him again. “Are you ok? Is there anything I can do to help?” The anxious feelings were becoming almost too much for me to handle. If they were coming from this man infront of me I needed to calm him down soon or we would both be having a breakdown. “Just talk to me for a second, I want to make sure you’re not hurt.” That comment seemed to reach him as he stopped mumbling, looking at me and making eye contact.

      He stayed frozen looking at me with those beautiful hazel eyes, it was like he was in a trance. I was about to speak again when I decided that a good way to calm him down if I really was feeling his emotions would be doing the opposite, projecting my emotions to my soulmate. If he is the reason behind the blood drop mark on my wrist, sending positive feelings should help him relax. To my surprise as soon as I started to calm myself to a relaxed point, I could see his face settle, he no longer looked like a kicked puppy but more a confused child.

      “What did you do to me?” Was the first not mumbled sentence out of his mouth. I looked at him for a moment trying to decide how to explain what I had just figured out. 

      I settled for smiling at him before explaining gently what just happened between us. “We are soulmates, two people destined to be together. We both have a mark to represent each other somewhere on our body, like this” I showed him my wrist as I explained it all. He looked at the blood drop for a second before he moved his arm to show me his wrist. In the exact same spot was a sphere that looked fairly similar to the barriers I can create around myself.

      “So that’s what this weird mark is, Mahito tried to tell me it was nothing and to ignore it.” He spoke explaining his knowledge of the mark. I was unsure of who this Mahito was but it seemed whoever it was, was trying to hide soulmates from him. I was slightly confused how a man in his twenties didn’t know about soulmates, but that was a question for later.

      Smiling at him I continued my explanation. “In addition to the marks, when soulmates are close to each other they can feel each other's emotions and strong emotions can influence the other. That's what I did, your feelings of anxiety and doubt were becoming too strong for me to stay focused so I calmed down my own feelings enough to help calm you down.” He nodded at the explanation, looking to the side for a moment before looking back. I could tell he was still a little anxious, whether that was because of finding out about soulmate, or what happened before I found him. I was unsure but I was going to figure it out. “Now that you’ve calmed down a bit do you mind telling me what happened? Why are you hiding in this alcove?” I asked as gently as possible not wanting to send him into another panic attack.

      He paused for a second before he started to explain. “I almost killed my little brother. I didn’t know he was my brother when we started fighting but when I was about to deliver the final blow I just knew he was my brother. It was the same feeling I got when my other brothers were killed. I can’t kill my brother even if he was the one to kill our other brothers. I hurt my brother and I have to make up for that. I have to protect him.” He started rambling again, not in the mumbling manner I found him in but it was hard to follow what he was saying. “He almost died because of me, and now he’s probably bleeding out because I hurt him,  because I didn't realize who he was sooner.” That sentence caught my attention.

      I remembered what led me to this spot, to finding him. Placing my hand on his shoulder to get his attention. “Slow down for a second, who and where is your brother?” I asked hoping to not get the answer I assumed was coming.

      “Yuji Itadori is my little brother. He's in the men’s bathroom.” He answered the question and I could tell he was about to start rambling again. Squeezing his shoulder again I drew his focus back to me.

      Pushing away my concern for the fact my soulmate was working with the curse’s that organized the attack. “He’s okay, I was actually looking for him earlier and found him in the bathroom. I was able to use my reverse cursed technique to stop the bleeding and keep him from dying. But what did you mean by he’s your brother, he never talked about having any siblings? Also he killed your other brothers?” I tried to reassure that Itadori was okay, but also asked for clarification. As far as I knew Itadori’s only family was his grandfather who passed away shortly before he became a sorcerer.

      He looked at me shocked that I knew who he was talking about. “Thank you. And I don’t know how to explain how he’s my brother, I just know he is. I have such a strong connection with my brothers. I felt when Yuji and Nobara Kugisaki ended the lives of my brothers Eso and Kechizu a few weeks ago, and I felt that same feeling when I was about to kill Yuji for revenge.” He explained in the best way he could.

     I nodded in understanding, he attacked Itadori in order to get revenge for his brothers, who I’m assuming were the two curses Itadori and Nobara fought at the bridge. Thinking about it they did say that when they finished off the curses they didn’t disintegrate like a normal curse and were just bodies as if they had killed humans. If that thing was this person's brother then what are they and why does he look so normal. “I can tell you’re confused, I’m assuming you probably were there when Yuji fought my brothers and are wondering what I am.” He was right, but how could he read me so well? I just nodded at him to continue. He went on to explain that he was a cursed object for 150 years until the attack on Jujutsu tech when he and two of his brothers were stolen. He explained that Mahito the patch faced curse, used his technique to give them bodies and use them as tools to fight sorcerers. He briefly explained that they sided with the curses because his brothers wouldn’t have been accepted by humans for the way they looked and he would have rather not had to help the curse who created him.

     “What do you mean by helping the curse that created you? Didn’t you say you were a cursed object for 150 years, wouldn’t the curse who made you be exercised by now?” I asked, interrupting his explanation.

     “The curse that made me is called Kenjaku, he was once a normal human who used his innate technique to transfer his brain to others to control them. 150 years ago he took over Noritoshi Kamo, using him to experiment on my mother who was able to carry the child of a curse. He tried nine times to get a living specimen but only received nine cursed objects that received the name Death paintings, I was the first one.” He explained his creation. As he was about to continue and explain how he was supposed to be helping Kenjaku in this day and age there was loud rumbling around us.

     I stood up quickly pulling him from the alcove looking around. The building looked like it was shaking. “As much as I’d love to keep chatting, I think we should probably get out of here.” I turned to him before I started to pull him in the direction of the exit. 

     “Wait, we have to get Yuji, we can’t leave him down here.” I heard behind me.

     “Look if Yuji is still down here than Sukana has probably taken over and if that’s the case he'll be fine.” i tried to explain, but the look on his face showed he was still concerned. “Listen, I know you want to make it up to him but you can't do that if we get crushed by a collapsing train station. As soon as we get out of this we will go find him I promise. You can trust me, I'm your soulmate after all, I’ll support you through this…” I wanted to address him by name but I realized in all of his explanations he never once told me his name, then again I never told him mine so it wouldn’t have been a fair trade. Continuing to pull him out of the station I decide it’s better late than never. “By the way I’m Y/n Y/l/n, and what can I call my handsome soulmate?” I asked him, feeling him stumble at the compliment.

     “Uh Choso. My name is Choso Kamo.” He said as we exited the train station. Finally knowing my soulmate's name felt amazing for some reason. It was probably due to the years of thinking it would never happen but I knew that no matter what this crazy world throws at us next we will handle it together.

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[joelsgreys]

the truth l a safe haven drabble

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist

summary: Tommy and Joel have a talk about you at the Tipsy Bison; Joel finally tells his brother the truth about what really happened with the Fireflies in Salt Lake City.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. spoiler ish for the beginning scene in tlou part II; slight deviation from the canon game plot to fit the series. reader is not in this scene, she is only mentioned. minor descriptions of canon violence, concerned Joel, kind of angsty.

word count: 2.2k

The next evening, Joel finds himself at The Tipsy Bison after dinnertime—he’d needed a drink, and a fucking stiff one at that.

Ellie had holed herself up in her bedroom for most of the day, and she’d refused to come out and eat. Joel had left a plate for her outside of her bedroom door, but he knew just how goddamn stubborn she could be when she was feeling upset. He knew that when he went back home, her food would still be sitting outside of her door, cold and untouched. 

Sarah often used to do the same thing to him whenever she’d had a bad day at school or was just in one of those moods. 

Between Ellie’s behavior and what had happened at the party the night before, Joel’s mind is all over the fucking place—he’s worried about Ellie, but now he’s worried about you too. 

He hadn’t seen you all day, not even in passing. 

For a while, Joel had contemplated going into the stables to seek you out after patrol duty, but he’d decided against it, knowing good and well that Tommy would probably be keeping tabs on him over the next few days to make sure he was steering clear of you.

“Here you go, Miller.” Seth places a glass in front of him, the bourbon on the rocks he’d ordered. “I made it a double. That look on your face tells me you could use it.”

“Thanks,” Joel mumbles, accepting it without protest. He notices Esther behind the counter, on the opposite end of the bar. For a minute, he’d worried that she would be the one to serve him, but thankfully, Seth had beat her to it. Not wanting the woman to get any ideas about coming over to talk to him, Joel grabs his drink and leaves the counter, making his way over towards a small, round wooden table nestled over in the furthest corner of the bar, away from other patrons. He sits down, his broad back facing the entire room—his way of telling people that he’s not seeking any kind of company tonight.

But one person hadn’t gotten the hint.

“Mind if I join you?” Tommy’s voice comes from behind him.

Joel shrugs his shoulders, but says nothing.

He walks around, dropping into the chair across from him. He offers a joking smile as he drawls, “Ain’t you at least gonna offer to go and get your sweet little baby brother a drink?” 

Joel glowers at him, completely unamused. What he wanted to do more than anything was give his sweet little baby brother a good knock upside the fucking head.

Tommy’s jeering smile fades and he sighs. “Look, Joel. I wanted to talk to you ‘bout last night—”

Joel cuts him off, his voice curt. “Relax. I ain’t even seen her since yesterday, alright?” He doesn’t even bother masking his bitterness. “Got your message ‘bout her real loud and fuckin’ clear, Tommy.”

“I’m just tryin’ to look out for you,” he states with a small shake of his head. “I don’t want you makin’ some stupid mistake that could get you in trouble, or worse, thrown out of this place.” He lets out another sigh and leans back into his chair. “But I’m sorry for bein’ such a dick ‘bout it, okay?”

Mulling over the apology, Joel gripps his glass tightly in his hand, and after a minute, he finally brings his dark eyes to meet those of his younger brother. He lifts his glass up to his lips, taking a long sip of liquor before asking, “What all do you know ‘bout her and Luke?”

Tommy glares at him. “Really? I just fuckin’ apologized to you, asshole. Don’t make me fuckin’ take it back.”

“Just tell me what you know.”

“Joel why the hell do you—”

“Tommy, just fuckin’ tell me,” he all but demands through gritted teeth. “What exactly do you know ‘bout her and Luke?”

Tommy’s expression suddenly shifts from annoyed to confused. Against his better judgment, he starts to explain everything to Joel. “We brought Luke and his two nieces to Jackson a few years ago, and she and her father came along not all too long after that. Her and her old man were both in pretty bad shape when they first got here, but she was worse off. We honestly didn’t think she was gonna make it—but Luke, he took care of her, nursed her back to good health.” He reaches up, raking one of his hands through his jet black curls as he shrugs his shoulders. “Guess sparks flew or somethin’ because within a couple months, those two were a serious item—a few weeks later, they were exchangin’ vows and rings at the altar of the commune’s old church with Maria as their witness.”

“They ever have any problems?”

He hesitates. “Well, when her dad got sick, it put a strain on their marriage for a while. She just had a lot of shit to deal with, y’know? Her dad wanted her to take his place as the community’s vet and it was a lot of pressure—havin’ to learn all she had to learn in so little time. All the while, the poor man’s fuckin’ dyin’ right before her very eyes. Can’t imagine what that kinda stress would do to a relationship.” He shrugs once again, crossing his arms over his chest. “It was real rough, but after her father died two summers ago, things changed for the better in a weird way. Luke stepped up. He was there for her and he supported her through it all, y’know? Her father’s death brought them closer together.”

Joel chooses his next words as carefully as possible, although there’s really no subtle way to ask his next question. “He ever mistreat her?”

Tommy’s eyes widen and he whips his head around, as if making sure that nobody was around to overhear the nature of the conversation. “Joel, why in the fuck are you askin’ me this?” he hisses through clenched teeth. Suddenly, a worried look flashes over his gaze and he asks, “Where is this even comin’ from? She say somethin’ to you last night?”

“No, she didn’t,” he admits. “But there’s just somethin’ ‘bout Luke that doesn’t sit right with me, Tommy. Somethin’ ‘bout those two, it just ain’t right. I can feel it.”

“What do you mean?”

Joel hesitates once more. “Somethin’ ‘bout the way she just changed around him. It was like someone flipped a fuckin’ light switch. One minute she’s smilin’ and she’s enjoyin’ herself—but as soon as Luke came around, her smile was gone, Tommy. She didn’t look all too happy to see him when he showed up. She looked real uncomfortable.”

His brother peers at him. He doesn’t seem angry or upset. If anything, Joel could detect something a little closer to empathy in his expression. “Did you ever stop and think for a second that maybe, just maybe, it’s your jealousy talkin’ and makin’ you see what you wanna see?”

Joel stares at him, unsure of how to respond.

Of course he was jealous of Luke, because he had you and Joel didn’t—but he wasn’t stupid, and he sure as hell wasn’t fucking blind.

He knows what he saw.

“If there was a problem with Luke, she would tell me,” Tommy assures him with confidence. “She’s close to me and she’s even closer to Maria. I know for a damn fact that if he wasn’t treatin’ her right, she would come to us right away. She would tell us if somethin’ bad was goin’ on at home. But as far as I know, those two are fine. They’re happy.” He pauses briefly, searching for words of comfort for his brother. “I’m real sorry, Joel. I can tell you really like her and I don’t blame you. She’s a beautiful woman. She’s also as sweet as can be, so kind even after all the shit she’s been through—people like her are rare in a world like this one. Any man can fall in love with someone like her real easy if he ain’t careful.”

Tommy expects Joel to deny any kind of feelings towards you—part of him hopes he will. Much to his surprise, and his dread, he doesn’t. Leave it to Joel to develop some kind of affection for the one person, the one goddamn person he couldn’t fucking have. Hell, Esther, along with several other of the single and available women in the town had their sights on Joel. He could have his pick of the litter—and he fucking had eyes for you. The one woman who was already taken. 

“She’s off limits, big brother.” Tommy’s voice is firm. “She’s happily married to Luke. I’m sorry.”

“If you say so,” Joel mutters, taking another long sip of his bourbon. He doesn’t believe that you’re fine, not for a single fucking second. You weren’t fine, and you sure as hell weren’t fucking happy.

“Hey, I saw Ellie at the party last night. She looked like she was havin’ a real good time,” Tommy offers a change of subject. He smiles at him. “Seems like she even made herself a new friend, too. You must be pretty happy ‘bout that.”

Joel snorts into his glass. “That was short lived.”

“What are you talkin’ ‘bout?”

“She’s been actin’ strange today,” Joel confesses, feeling a dull ache in his chest. “Ellie’s been locked in her room all goddamn day and refuses to come out and talk to me. Her survivor’s guilt is too much for her sometimes, Tommy. As much as I try to be there for her, I don’t always know what the hell to do or even say when it rears its ugly fuckin’ head.” He quickly swallows the emotional lump rising in his throat. “She was so happy last night. She was enjoyin’ that party like any normal kid her age would. But as soon as we made it back home, I just knew she was feelin’ so bad about havin’ fun. I could tell her guilt was eatin’ her up alive. S’almost like Ellie feels like she doesn’t deserve it.”

“It ain’t her fault they gave up on a cure, Joel.”

“That’s the thing. They didn’t.” Joel whispers, so softly that the younger Miller almost hadn’t heard it. His throat bobs harshly. If he crosses this line, there’s no going back. “There’s somethin’ that I gotta tell you.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t know what happened,” Joel starts to say, a nervous edge to his tone. “I was s’pposed to take her to the Fireflies and then walk away.” He stops, looking down into the rich amber hues of his bourbon as he muses, “You go halfway across the country with someone—”

He trails off, shaking his head.

Tommy waits in silence for him to continue.

“Ellie needed her immunity to mean somethin’. It was her purpose, at least that’s how she felt.” Joel shrugs, fingers lightly tapping the sides of his glass. “Maybe I was startin’ to buy into that whole cure business. Maybe I just wanted to do right by her. I don’t know. Then we finally made it and we found the Fireflies. And because of Ellie, they were actually gonna make a cure.”

“Wait, what?” Tommy hisses in disbelief.

Meekly, he nods.

“The only catch was that it would kill her.”

“Jesus Christ, Joel,” Tommy murmurs. A sudden realization hits him and when he speaks again, his voice is strained. He knows where this is going. “What did you do?”

His reply is simple as he meets his gaze across the table.

 “I saved her.”

Joel takes a quick glance around, making sure that not a single soul is within earshot before he starts recounting the story of what had actually happened at the Firefly hospital in Salt Lake City. He spares no details, doesn’t try to sugarcoat how it had all gone down—he tells him the truth about how he had taken countless lives, including Marlene’s, in order to save Ellie. He confesses to mercilessly killing the one person who could have developed a cure and saved the world by putting a single bullet right through his skull.

“Goddamn,” Tommy utters quietly. “That’s—that is a lot. What does Ellie know?”

“I told her they just ran some tests on her.” Joel’s voice becomes thick with emotions as he admits, “I told her that her immunity meant nothin’ at all. I told her that there were dozens more like her.”

“And she believed you?”

“Didn’t say otherwise,” he replies. He sees it in his brother’s face— that he knows the real answer to that question, just like Joel does.

Tommy opens his mouth, then clamps it shut.

For once in his life, he’s at a complete loss for words.

“Listen, I know what kind of fuckin’ monster that you must think I am for what I did—”

“I don’t think that.” Tommy leans forward and he places his hand over Joel’s. “I get it, brother. Look I might know fatherhood yet—shit, my kid’s only the size of a fuckin’ peanut in my wife’s belly right now. But I get it, alright? If that would have been my child on that table in that operatin’ room, I would’ve made the same exact choice you did. I would have done whatever I had to in order to save my kid’s life.”

Joel’s eyes glisten with hot tears and he furiously blinks them back.

“I already lost one daughter, Tommy,” he chokes. “I wasn’t gonna lose another.”

Tommy firmly squeezes his hand. “I know, Joel.”

“You can’t tell anyone about this,” Joel says after a minute or two of silence. “Not even Maria.”

Tommy hesitates, not liking the idea of keeping yet another secret from his wife, but he agrees. “Alright.” He stands up from the table and nods over towards the door. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fic #joel miller series #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller hbo #joel miller angst #joel miller x original character #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #the last of us imagine #tlou fanfiction #fic: ash #fic: a safe haven

[hottpinkpenguin]

Joel Miller X Fem!Reader - Last of Us - Part 2

A/N: read part 1 here!

Warnings: hints of sexual violence (no descriptions); dark themes; post-apocalyptic dystopia; death of reader's minor child; probably a lot of non-canon details since I've never played the game; not proofread; spoilers if you haven't seen the show/played the game Word Count: 2650 Abbreviations: QZ = quarantine zone; FDRA "Fedra" = Federal Disaster Response Agency

----

“You look like hell, Joel.”

“K.”

Tessa looked Joel up and down, making a point to grimace as she did. 

“What, am I too ugly to do business with or something?” Joel’s tone was biting, his patience running thin. The restlessness in his bones was gnawing something awful today.

“Where’d your pet go?”

Joel’s stare was flat, but Tessa knew him well enough to see the slight jump in his jaw muscle as he clenched his teeth momentarily.

“My pet?”

“Yeah, that sad sack with the dead kid.” 

Joel’s knuckles turned white on the back of the chair he was leaning on. 

“What are you talk-”

“Oh come on, Joel. Don’t act like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like every other stupid fuck around here.” Tessa gestured around the dimly lit basement where she’d met Joel for the swap. They were alone, but Joel knew who she was referring to. Her crew. Good at stealing, running, and turning profits, but not amusing to her the way he was. Joel didn’t react, he just kept staring at her.

“It’s my job to know what my guys are up to,” Tessa pointed out as if she were explaining something to a young child. 

“I’m not one of your guys,” Joel countered through gritted teeth. “The only thing we need to know about each other is what I have and what you’ll pay for it.” He looked pointedly at the half-smoked pack of cigarettes, sawed off shotgun, and car battery on the table between them. 

Tessa chewed on the inside of her lip as she looked up at him. The bare lightbulb overhead cast harsh shadows on her face. 

“That wasn’t always true, though.” Her voice was softer now, a hint of playfulness in her tone. An invitation. She smirked up at him coquettishly. Joel shook his head, trying to shake out the memories that expression brought to mind. 

“That was a mistake, Tessa.” 

“A good one, though. Sometimes good mistakes are worth making a few times.” 

Joel shook his head, exhaling softly. He should have known better. Never put your prick where you put your money. 

“No, Tessa.”

“Come on, Joel. Just for old time’s sake.”

“Not gonna happen.”

Tessa’s eyes turned from flirtatious to bitter as the smile melted from her lips. 

“So she was your pet.”

Joel felt himself tense up. This was a game that he really didn’t want to play. Tessa was a dangerous woman. He’d done well to stay on her good side for so many years, but this had been a serious miscalculation. He shouldn’t have plucked at her jealousy by bringing you into the mix. 

“She wasn’t anything,” he insisted. He kept his tone even, forced himself to hold Tessa’s accusing gaze. Tessa had a good bullshit meter, but she was blind when it came to Joel. He’d used that a few times before, but this was a moment when it really mattered. He couldn’t risk it. Couldn’t risk you. 

A heavy tension settled between them as Tessa took a drag of her cigarette. Joel swallowed down a surge of anger at the oblique threat to your safety. 

“Fine.” Tessa stood up quickly, tamping out the end of her cigarette on the table and surveying its contents. “I’ll give you eight for the lot.” 

Joel ran a hand through his graying hair in exasperation. 

“That’s less than half of what we agreed on.”

“Yeah, it is.” Tessa knocked on the metal door behind her. It swung open, two of her lackeys swooping in to scoop up the contraband that Joel had brought her. Tessa grabbed a duffel bag from one of them, unzipping a side pocket and rifling through a dirty, wrinkled stack of meal cards. She pulled out eight pink slips and thrust them towards Joel. He knew better than to argue, and took them begrudgingly. 

“You’re screwing me on this, Tessa.” 

“And you’re screwing her.” Tessa’s voice was low. Joel didn’t miss the pain in her words. “In your dreams or in reality. Either way, you’re screwing her.” 

Joel opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out. His mouth snapped close. Tessa nodded in confirmation. She zipped up the duffel bag and swung it over her shoulder as she turned to leave.

“So this is about me not picking you?” Joel couldn’t stop the question from slipping out. He could have kicked himself for the fucking stupidity. 

Tessa froze halfway up the first step of the stairwell behind the door. She half-turned back to him. On the other side of the doorframe, her entire face was cast in shadow. 

“Partially. But partially because I can’t trust you anymore.”

“How do you figure that?” Joel stuffed the eight cards into the back pocket of his jeans, sensing that their conversation was coming to an end. He didn’t want to linger any longer than he needed. 

“Because. You’re not a free agent anymore, Joel. You’ve got something to lose. Which means people can get to you. And if they can get to you, they can get to me.” 

Tessa didn’t wait for him to reply before she started up the stairs. The door behind her swung shut, leaving Joel alone with the bare lightbulb and a jolt of fear in his gut that confirmed one thing:

Tessa was right. 

*****

The frozen ground crunched under your knees as you knelt down in front of the lopsided piece of wood that marked Gabriel’s grave. He wasn’t buried there, of course; FDRA confiscated all the corpses. What they did with them from there, you couldn’t let yourself think about. But you’d buried his favorite pair of sneakers and the tattered Captain America comic book he loved so much in this spot. It had been weeks since you’d visited. 

“Hi, baby.” You patted the cold, hard soil in front of his grave marker with a trembling hand. The frigid January air had gnawed your fingertips numb.

“I’m sorry it’s been so long.” 

In the distance, a raven cawed. 

“Things have been… well, they’ve been bad since you left.”

The abandoned lot you’d buried Gabriel in was overgrown with vines. It had been a playground once. A rusted swing set lay overturned on its side a few feet from where you knelt. Behind it, a monkey bar and slide combo emerged from the weeds. Gabriel used to like to play here when he was little. Eddie would take him on the rare days he had off. 

“I miss you.” You choked on the words, feeling your resolve beginning to fracture as tears burned the corners of your eyes. You swiped them away as your nose started to run. 

“I just wanted to tell you that I’m trying to do better. I’m trying, baby.” 

Next to the wooden stake with Gabriel’s name roughly carved into it, a second stake stuck out from the ground. It was more worn and weathered after years of sun and rain. Eddie’s name was barely visible anymore. Like Gabriel, Eddie also wasn’t buried here, but this was where you chose to remember him. 

“I love you both.” Two hands on the ground this time. One in front of each of your boys. A tear slid free from your cheek and slapped onto the frosted ground between your knees. 

“I’ll visit more, I promise.” You rose from your knees, tucking your frozen hands under your armpits with a shiver.

“What are you doing out here all by yourself?”

Your body went still, icy dread shooting through your veins. You knew that voice. 

“Just paying my respects, Dirk.” 

You turned to face Dirk Reynolds, keeping your face in a mask of calm. He was the last person you wanted to run into out here so far from the rest of the QZ. 

“Sorry to hear about your boy.” Dirk sounded anything but sorry. He was walking towards you slowly, eyeing you like prey. You fought the urge to run, but the sight of the FDRA-issued semi-automatic in his hands made you think twice. 

“Thank you, that means a lot.” Actually, it meant dog shit to you, but Dirk Reynolds wasn’t a man to play with. Even Eddie had been afraid of him, and Eddie was as fearless as they came. You swallowed, suddenly feeling very aware of how alone the two of you were.

“You’re all alone now, aren’t you?” You couldn’t help but take a half step back. He was still a good fifteen paces from you, but too close for comfort. His words set your teeth on edge. 

“I like to come out here by myself. Get some peace and quiet.” You knew that wasn’t the kind of alone Dirk was getting at, but you were desperate to change the subject. His brown, bloodshot eyes raked you up one side and down the other. Despite the layers of clothing you’d piled on to try and fight off the Boston winter, his gaze made you feel woefully underdressed. 

“That ain’t what I meant, y/n.” His voice dropped an octave, practically turning into a growl. He kept moving closer to you, taking his time, his eyes never leaving you.

“I’m getting by,” you stammered back. “Mrs. Hughes and her girls are good to me. They look out for me.” You wondered if Dirk would back down knowing that there were people who might miss you if you stayed out too long. Mrs. Hughes and her daughters were good to you, but you doubted that they’d notice your absence until well past curfew. God knows what shape Dirk would have you in by then. Your throat went dry and you felt your lip start to tremble.

“You look scared, y/n. I ain’t gonna hurt you.” He was close enough that you could hear the frost-stiff ground crunch under his feet.

“I- I know.” Your reply wasn’t convincing in the least. Because you knew one thing: Dirk Reynolds would hurt you. You’d heard plenty of stories from the other women who lived near you in the QZ. 

“I look out for my friends. And I’ve got plenty of friends around here. I could treat you real good. Keep you warm, comfortable. Keep you safe.” Dirk lingered on the last word, a thinly veiled threat. 

“I’m sure. And we all appreciate everything you do for us. Truly.” 

Dirk was FDRA, but he was also something of a self-styled neighborhood mafioso. He took bribes from all the drug dealers, smugglers, and pimps in the four block radius where you lived, and in exchange Dirk turned a blind eye to their goings and comings. You remembered him from when you’d first gotten to the QZ. He’d been a fat, boastful lecher back then. The twenty years since had seen him shed the beer gut and hone a real violent streak. He wasn’t the brightest man you’d met by half, but you couldn’t make the mistake of underestimating him. You hoped your appeal to his ego would work. 

“I wouldn’t mind if you showed me some of that appreciation.” 

You fell back another half step, your hands still raised in the air like it was a stick up. The fact that he hadn’t told you to put them down told you enough about his intentions. 

“What… Dirk, I- uh, I’m not ready… For all that. Still grie-grieving.” You could barely speak, the sheer panic ringing in your ears like bells. He was close enough to reach out and touch you now. You started calculating the chances of making it if you took off in a run. That gun he held in his hands gave you pause. You’d seen what Dirk did to some of the women who’d turned down his advances. And you’d known a few women - by face only - who’d mysteriously disappeared. There were rumors, of course, that Dirk had something to do with it; but up until now, you’d been able to wave those rumors off. You had other worries to pay attention to. But now, all you could think about was getting away. You didn’t think you’d make it very far before he shot you. And despite everything you’d lost, the terror pulsing in your blood told you that you weren’t ready to die. Not yet. 

“Y/N! There you are!” A vaguely familiar voice called out to you from over Dirk’s shoulder. You kept yourself completely still as Dirk’s face darkened in irritation, grunting angrily as he spun around to face the source of the sound. 

Joel Miller was striding across the frozen carpet of vines at the northeast corner of the empty playground, waving at you like you were an old friend. Your knees almost buckled in relief at the sight. 

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you! I wish you’d told me you’d come out here to see Gabriel.” Your heart twitched at the sound of your son’s name. An idle corner of your thoughts wondered how Joel knew that’s why you were here, but that was a question for later. With Dirk distracted, you made your move. You scurried around Dirk, careful not to get close enough to let him grab you, and made a beeline for Joel. You had to consciously fight the urge to run.

“Sir, I appreciate you looking after her.” Joel’s tone was sunny and friendly. A little too obsequious, you thought, but maybe that was because you knew Joel was putting on a show for Dirk’s benefit. 

You closed the distance between you and Joel quickly, the skin on your back prickling in a frenzy to get away from Dirk. 

“Get behind me,” Joel whispered to you through gritted teeth when you were in earshot. His voice was low and urgent, but the smile he wore for show never faltered.

“Yeah, sure, no problem.” Dirk’s reply was casual, but his tone was threatening and coarse. “Pretty little thing like that shouldn’t be alone in these parts. Can’t be too careful. All kinds of things slipping through the wall these days.” You knew Dirk was referring to the infected that occasionally broke into the QZ through the maze of dilapidated buildings, subway tunnels, and sewers. For your part, you’d have gladly traded the open city to get as far away from Dirk’s leering stare as possible. 

“That’s what I tell her, once a day if it’s twelve times. Isn’t it?” Joel turned to you, obscuring his face from Dirk’s view. There was a question in his eyes: did he hurt you. You shook your head quickly, letting your eyes fall to the ground. You sidled closer to Joel’s shoulder. He noted the movement and casually shifted his weight to step squarely between you and Dirk.

“We’ll go on and head back then. Don’t want to miss curfew. Thanks for your help, again. I won’t let her out of my sight, that’s a promise.” Joel turned away from Dirk, gesturing with his eyes for you to walk towards the boarded up building at the far end of the playground. He kept himself behind you, between you and Dirk. 

“Make sure you do that,” Dirk called out after the two of you. His voice was bitter and dark.

“Keep walking. Don’t look back,” Joel urged. He hovered a hand on your lower back, his touch so light you thought you imagined it. Despite the remnants of fear crackling in your nerves, his touch sent a gentle wave of warmth up your spine. You felt the terror subside slightly. 

You let Joel lead you silently back to his apartment. The two of you never shared a word, but there was a clear understanding that you wouldn’t be going home. It wasn’t until you stepped through the familiar doorway that you let out the faintest smile at the promise Joel had made: I won’t let her out of my sight. You knew the promise had been made under duress, but you sincerely hoped he was serious.

read part 3 here! **let me know if you want to be tagged in future chapters!

#joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #last of us #joel miller last of us #last of us imagine #pedro pascal #pedro pascal last of us #pedro pascal joel miller #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x y/n #last of us hbo

[levi-supreme]

Rei's Birthday Event: Spring date with Levi

Characters: Post war!Levi x Survey Corps fem!reader

Genre: SNK!canonverse

Warnings: SFW, fluff. Reader insert (y/n). SNK final season spoilers!!!! Some references to the canon events of snk (slight mentions of depressive episodes, mentions of death etc).

Word count: 3.6k

A/N: Thank you very much to my dear anon Victoria for the request!! I actually have two very similar spring time date requests, as such I decided to tweak this up a little. There will be mentions and references to canon events, but nothing angsty at all!!

I'm sorry this took so long to complete, and I'm still going through a bad writer's block lol but thank you to everyone for being so patient! I hope you all like this <3

Read the original request here.

"Levi Heichou!" You called out, excited to see your lover appear before you. 

"Tch, I told you so many times before to drop the shitty title, we're no longer in the Corps anymore," Levi rolled his eye—his good one—as he approached you. His hair was neatly combed back, his fedora in his lap. Levi was wearing a simple white button shirt with black long pants. His hair had grown longer; his fringe now growing past his eye. You missed how he used to keep his hair short, but you loved how nice Levi looked with longer hair too. 

You looked hard at Levi, studying every line and wrinkle you see, and the barely visible strands of grey on his ebony hair. Years of fighting on the front line had taken a toll on his body more than you liked, even though he claimed it didn't really affect him much since he had the Ackerman bloodline. 

Although the war ended, you knew Levi still wasn't at peace. You could tell he was restless, he didn't like being cooped up at home. His eyes didn't seem to have life in them like they used to, and he just seemed so sluggish all the time. You knew Levi wasn't sleeping well too; sometimes the ache in his knee woke him up, and sometimes, it was the demons Levi were fighting in his head. Levi didn't say it, but you knew he missed the old life, the one where he spent half his life fighting for a cause he believed in, and now that he fulfilled his mission, his life felt aimless; he didn't know what to do, and what to continue living for. 

It took you a long while to convince Levi to even agree to step out of the house and go on this picnic date, and deep down, you knew you had to make every minute out with him worthwhile.

"What are you staring at?" Levi's voice brought you back to the present, "thinking of something?" 

"Nah, I'm just thinking of asking Mikasa to send me some of those pearl eye cream from Hizuru. You know, the one Lady Kiyomi sent her for her birthday?" you answered, bringing a pair of shoes and putting them on for Levi, "I heard they're good for reducing wrinkles, especially around the eyes." 

Levi's eye narrowed. "Oi. Are you saying—"

"Did Big Sister y/n just call Uncle Levi old?!" A high pitched voice came from the kitchen, and you felt an impact around your midsection. A few moments later, a head of blonde hair appeared by your side too. "Big Sister y/n just said Uncle Levi has wri—"

"Gabi! Shush—" Falco covered Gabi's mouth while she tried to wiggle herself free. You giggled and glanced at Levi who was eyeing the three of you, and quickly tried to separate the younger ones. 

"Oi. You brats. Ganging up on me now?" Levi crossed his arms, looking utterly displeased. Falco continued covering Gabi's mouth while she tried to stomp on his foot. 

"Of course not, Levi, we wouldn't dare to offend our elders do we, kids?" You joked, earning another stare from Levi. Before he could say anything, you quickly ran into the kitchen with Gabi and Falco.

"Big Sister y/n!!! Did you see Uncle Levi's face when you talked about wrinkles?" Gabi laughed while Falco appeared with a picnic basket in tow. 

"Shut up, Gabi! Uncle Levi and Big Sister are late for their date already, stop disturbing them!" Falco sighed and tried to pull Gabi away, "here, Big Sister, I hope you and Uncle Levi have lots of fun today!" 

You nodded and waved the kids goodbye and went outside, looking again at Levi who still had his arms across his chest. Onyankopon was right behind Levi, giving you a smile. 

"Come on brat, let's go." Levi rolled his eye again as you passed the picnic basket to Onyankopon. Pushing Levi's wheelchair, Onyankopon told you to wait by the pavement as he went to drive the car over. 

"... do I really have wrinkles?" Levi muttered once Onyankopon left. You snorted and tried to hide it with a small cough.

"Hmm… well… I mean, uh… your crow's feet do seem to be… uh—" 

"Fine. Enough." Onyankopon arrived and Levi dismissed you, clearly knowing the answer in his heart. You giggled as he came out to help Levi up into the car while you kept his wheelchair in the boot. 

"The weather today is lovely," Onyankopon smiled as he began driving, "it's a good day to be out in the sun."

"And yet, she still does not want to tell me what we're doing today." 

"You'll find out later." You chuckled again holding Levi's hand, watching the scenery outside pass by. You sought help from Onyankopon and the kids weeks ago to look for nice picnic spots in Marley. With the spring breeze flowing and the flowers blooming, you thought it would be a perfect opportunity to spend undisturbed time with Levi. You thought a change of scenery might do him some good too; to help him out of this depressive state. After another quarter, Onyankopon stopped the car near the park and went to take Levi's wheelchair out. 

"I'll pick you two up at eight, is that okay, y/n?" You checked your watch and it was a little past four. You nodded your head and thanked Onyankopon before taking the picnic basket and another bag from the front seat. Placing the picnic basket on Levi's lap, you helped him put on his fedora and his eye patch before wheeling him ahead. 

"So, are you going to tell me why we are here in this godforsaken place?" Levi questioned you again as you began pushing him on a stony path. 

"I'm taking you out on a date, obviously." You teased him again as you suddenly pushed him faster, causing his fedora to nearly fly away. Levi tutted angrily and said you should never be allowed to push his wheelchair again. 

A few moments later, you and Levi arrived at a shop offering bicycles for rent. You paid the shopkeeper some money and then he rode a quadricycle over. You took the picnic basket and bag from Levi's lap and placed it in the front seats of the quadricycle. Once more, Levi gave you a look of confusion. 

"Well, up now, I rented this for the day," you gestured. Levi awkwardly looked away, subconsciously placing his hand on his bad knee and grimaced, knowing that you of all people should know how he wasn't like before. What were you thinking, making him cycle when you knew it was going to be hard for him?

"Come on, Levi, stop depending on that wheelchair. You have to prevent your knee from becoming worse, right?" You smiled encouragingly, offering your hand out. You had expected that Levi would be unhappy, but you likewise knew that you shouldn't treat him differently from before. Whether or not he was Levi Heichou of the Survey Corps, or now as Levi the war veteran, he was still Levi—the Levi you loved. Whether he had physical disabilities or not, Levi was still the man you want to spend the rest of eternity with. You didn't want to push him, you wanted Levi to get out of this self-pitying state himself. After a long while, Levi held your hand and pushed himself up from the wheelchair. Slowly but steadily, you guided Levi up on the seat of the quadricycle, placing his feet on the pedals. 

"W-wait. What about the wheel—"

"Don't worry, sir, your item will be safely kept here." The shopkeeper kindly replied and Levi seemed to relax a little. It was hard trying to move around without the wheelchair, but maybe you were right. He should try to depend on it less. "We'll close at around 10pm, so please remember to come by before then." The both of you nodded and you took your seat on the left. Looking at Levi, you gave him another smile and asked if he was ready. You could see Levi massaging his knee again. Levi took a deep breath and sighed, telling you to start pedalling. 

It was hard at first, but Levi gradually got used to the momentum again. The both of you kept your pace slow, taking your time to enjoy the scenery passing by, the sound of birds chirping, and the gentle rustling of leaves. The sun was obscured by the clouds and there wasn't much of a crowd as well. You saw Levi's face relax gradually, the crease on his forehead slowly disappearing. Levi seemed to be more at ease with paddling on the quadricycle as well. You smiled to yourself. Bringing Levi out was indeed doing him well. 

"Are you doing okay?" You checked in with your lover, making sure he wasn't overexerting himself. After he gave you a nod, you pointed to a large shady tree about 200 metres away, telling Levi that it was the next stop. Reaching the tree, you told Levi to remain seated first. 

"Are you up for a walk?" 

"... Hah?"

"A walk, Levi. Let's go for a walk."

"N-no, I don't think I can—"

"We'll walk slowly. Forget about the walking stick. You don't need it, I'm here." 

Levi looked hard at you, face remaining emotionless. The frown on Levi's face became more and more evident as the seconds passed. You continued to stare right into Levi's eye, your resolve unwavering. A few seconds later, Levi broke eye contact and sighed again before reaching out his hand towards your direction. 

"You better not make me regret this," Levi muttered under his breath, "you're forcing a crippled man to walk when you jolly well know he can't." You rolled your eyes.

"First off, Levi"—you took his hand and slowly guided him down the quadricycle—"you're not crippled. Secondly, you walk fine. Thirdly, think of this as rehabilitation, hmm? And lastly, stop complaining like an old man." You stood on Levi's right side and interlocked your arm with his, making sure he wasn't putting too much pressure on his knee. 

"Where are we going?" 

"Not far. We're just going to that small pond over there," you pointed towards a pond just in front, "let's go and feed some ducks." Levi scoffed hearing you.

"As long as they keep their feathers and shit to themselves." 

The walk to the small pond was slow but pleasant. The heat from the sun was warm against your skin, the scent of the earth was refreshing. Levi held on to his fedora as the wind blew gently, and the sound of the grass and gravel crunching underneath your feet was playing like a contrasting melody. Once you two reached the pond, you opened your sling bag and took out a slice of white bread. Levi raised his eyebrow slightly.

"These are stale bread from a week ago." You chuckled before tearing it into half, passing one to Levi. You further tore your half into more tiny pieces before throwing them little by little into the pond. Some of the ducks in the pond started waddling over. Several tortoises also popped their heads above the water. There were also fishes fighting amongst themselves for the last few pieces. Levi looked at you before tearing the bread in his hand, scattering them all across the pond. The fishes and ducks dispersed and finished all those pieces of bread within the next minute. 

"Do you have more bread on you?" Levi asked as he finished scattering the last few pieces of bread in his hand. You laughed and took out a few more slices.

"Maybe we can go to the pier next time," you commented once those hungry birds finished all the bread in your bag, "we should try feeding the seagulls." Levi scoffed again and let you hold on to his elbow. 

"Tch. And have them shit on our heads? No." 

The both of you began walking back to the quadricycle. Reaching into another bag, you took out a small paper kite. Levi raised his eyebrow again. 

"Do you like it? I had Gabi and Falco do it together with me." You smiled and flipped the kite over, letting Levi see the doodles they did. Levi smirked when he realised who the five blobs of colour drawn on the kite were. You held onto the string and passed Levi the kite, telling him to lift the kite above his head while you moved back. 

"OKAY, LEVI, THROW THE KITE HIGH AFTER I COUNT TO THREE!" You shouted and Levi gave you the thumbs up. After counting to three, Levi threw the kite high and you jogged backwards, pulling the string up to get the kite into the sky. Releasing the string bit by bit, Levi slowly made his way to your side as the kite now started flying a short distance away. You gave Levi a smile and tied the string around the tree trunk before going to the quadricycle, taking out the picnic basket and setting the mat.

"Now… let's see what the kids made for our picnic." You rubbed your palms together excitedly and opened the basket. You took out a container of hot stew, some freshly baked sourdough bread, cheese, mushroom quiche, and a small container of fruits too. You arranged the food on the mat and took out the bowls, cutlery, and a few serviettes. Pouring some stew into the small bowl, you passed it to Levi's left before giving him the spoon. 

"It seems pretty decent," Levi uttered as he took a spoonful of stew and eyed you, "are you sure they did it all on their own?" You ate some stew and nodded.

"Well, Onyankopon did give them pointers, and I was the one who gave them the recipes, but yeah. The kids made it all by themselves. Not bad, huh? Maybe we should let them open a small food stall along the streets." you took another few mouthfuls of stew, "it's time for them to contribute to the household finances." Levi tutted angrily instead.

"They're too young to be doing shit like that, you brat. Don't be ridiculous." 

You giggled, cutting some mushroom quiche for Levi. "I'm joking. Of course I wouldn't let Falco and Gabi do something like that. " The crease on Levi's forehead disappeared again as he ate, passing you his bowl for more stew. Levi and you took your time savouring the good food prepared by the two kids. It was pretty decent, and indeed you were secretly thinking of letting them open a small food business once they are of age. 

Once all the food was finished, you told Levi to pack everything fast. Bewildered, Levi didn't say anything, yet he wondered what you were up to again. You got Levi up onto the quadricycle again and told him that there was one place you wanted to bring him. Stopping the quadricycle, you helped Levi down and laced your arm around his again, walking him to some benches ahead. The park was located right next to the sea, and it was pretty empty, just the way you hoped. 

"Come on," you muttered as you helped him down, walking towards the bench, "we're just in time." 

"For what?"

"You'll see."

Taking your seats on the bench, you checked your watch before glancing ahead again, looking at the dispersing clouds. Before long, the sun started to set, painting the sky a beautiful hue of red, orange, and yellow. You could feel Levi let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and you grabbed his hand, feeling your fingers interlock. The both of you continued to stare silently at the magnificent view ahead, watching the sun descend lower and lower, listening to the waves crashing on the shore, feeling the wind blowing against your skin. You could feel Levi's calloused fingers caressing your knuckles, and the familiarity tickled something in your memory.

"Brings back memories, huh, Heichou," you peeked at Levi, seeing him trying to hide a small smile as well, "we used to do this all the time." Levi hummed in agreement, keeping his eye on the sunset instead. 

"I still think the view from the top of the walls were nicer though"—you let go of Levi's hand and stretched your hands—"it was higher, more windy, less obstruction, and more—"

"And more dangerous," Levi frowned as he interjected. You laughed once more, closing your eyes to feel the wind in your hair again. You thought back to the reason why you decided to bring Levi out today, and even though you knew it might make him unhappy, you also knew you had to talk to him about it. Minutes later, the sun had already gone below the horizon, and the sky was gradually getting darker as well. Soon, the lamps nearby slowly started lighting up. 

"Say, Levi," you broke the silence once more and Levi hummed in acknowledgement again, "do you… miss the old days?" 

"... why'd you ask?"

"I miss those days too, you know. I miss all our friends and comrades too. Every single one of them. Every day." 

Levi didn't say a word. You guessed he was probably upset. Yet, you took a deep breath and decided to just tell him the words on your mind. 

"I know it's not easy for you to, I don't know, adapt to a normal life again seeing how you've been in the Corps for nearly half your life. B-but, I just don't want to see you wallowing in self-pity, okay? It hurts me to see you like this. 

"I don't care whether or not you have missing eyes and fingers, I don't care if you have to be in a wheelchair forever. I'll gladly feed your meals and bathe you, I'll wear your shoes for you and I'll push you wherever you want to go. We'll hunt around Marley to look for beautiful spots to watch the sunset and the stars. I love you for who you are, and that will never change. Falco and Gabi love their Uncle Levi too. So, j-just, don't give up, okay?"

"Who said anything about giving up?" Levi turned to you, a look of annoyance appeared on his face. 

"W-well, I don't know, you're always looking so listless, and you're not eating and sleeping well. I haven't seen you smile in a long time. And once I saw you staring at the mirror looking like you're abo—"

"Hey, hey, stop it, okay? Stop worrying. I'm fine. Really." Levi held your hand and gave you a squeeze. "I'm fine. I'm dealing with it, okay? It's, it's j-just—I'm—"

"Shh. It's okay. I get it. I get you." you hushed him, gently holding him close. You didn't need to see Levi's face to know that he was probably going to tear up, a side of him that will never be seen by anyone else; anyone except you. "Everything will be alright, I promise you. I won't leave you. I'll be by your side." 

The both of you remained in each other's embrace, letting your hug do the talking. Patting Levi's back rhythmically, you heard him let out a long sigh before pulling you even closer, tightening his grip around your waist as he buried his head in the crook of your shoulder. You didn't feel the need to ask Levi what he was thinking about, and likewise, Levi knew you wouldn't ask him about it. After a long while, Levi finally loosened his grip around you. The moon was hanging high in the sky and the wind was getting colder. The stars shone like little specks of glitter in the ink-coloured sky. 

"Feeling better?"

"Y-yeah, better," Levi hastily wiped the remnants of tears from his cheek, "thank y-yo—

—you interrupted Levi mid-sentence with a soft kiss.

"I love you, Levi. Always remember that. Hmm? I mean it." you gave him another small smile before stroking his cheek, pressing another fleeting kiss on his chapped lips. Levi's larger hand cupped yours as he kissed you back, feeling like time around him stopped, and nothing else in the world mattered. The feeling of your lips on his, the coldness of your cheeks, the warmth from your body; they were real, and a reminder that he was still here, and he was still alive.  

Levi broke the kiss first, struggling to find the right words to say while he looked at you. Chuckling, you gave him another smile and mouthed it's okay once more. Levi was never good with words and he was never a good talker, but it never bothered you anyway. Levi gave you an appreciative look while you looked at your watch.

"Come on, Levi. Let's get back to the bicycle shop." 

Helping Levi on his feet, you guided him up the quadricycle and the both of you slowly cycled back to the shop. Thanking the shopkeeper for keeping Levi's wheelchair safe, you opened it and gestured to Levi to take his seat, yet Levi shook his head instead. 

"Let's walk to the main entrance. There's still time, right?" Levi offered to hold the picnic basket and kite while another hand held your arm for support. You tried to hide your smile as you both walked, listening to the owls hooting in the far distance. Onyankopon's car was already waiting outside by the time you reached the entrance. Seeing Levi walking next to you, a wide smile broke across Onyankopon's face as well.

The journey back home was quiet, yet Levi felt like the weight had been finally lifted off his shoulders. You held on to Levi's hand as he laid on your shoulder, drifting somewhere between sleep and consciousness. Levi knew his road to recovery would not be an easy one. But with you by his side, it was like he found his wings of freedom once more. And for the first time in a long while, Levi went to sleep with a smile.

Disclaimer: This is my first time writing hurt/comfort so I understand if it sucks and there's no hurt or comfort at all LOL I prommie I'll do better for the rest of the requests 🥺

Tagging: @levi-lover @ack3rlady @cinnamonlevi @imkumichan @kristinecharmm @notgoodforlife @jean-prettyboy-kirschtein @evas-leslas @sweet-assh0le @hannie2kay @levislovingwife @galactict3a @hauntedhousecat @suukee @thesimpsstuff @ackermendick @greenfurret @jayteacups @nelapanela94 @postwarlevi @levisbrat25 @ladycheesington @svftackerman @chaotic-nick @lilshades @youre-ackermine

Rei’s Birthday Event master list | Rei’s Springtime Event grand master list

Event tag list | Rei’s tag list

#levi #levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x y/n #levi ackerman x y/n #levi x you #levi ackerman x you #levi x fem!reader #levi ackerman x fem!reader #snk x reader #aot x reader #snk x you #aot x you #snk x y/n #aot x y/n #levi fics #levi ackerman fics #levi fanfiction #levi ackerman fanfiction #snk fics #aot fics #snk fanfiction #aot fanfiction #levi.supreme #rei's birthday event #rei's springtime event

[quin-ns]

We’ll Be Okay (Steve Harrington x Reader)

Word count: 2.3K

Summary: steve is injured while half of the hawkins team is stuck in the upside down and finds comfort in you

Tags: ST4 spoilers!!, canon divergent, hurt!steve, slight angst, flirting, friends to lovers, kissing, love confessions, mutually required love, fluff and humor, robin jumpscare

A/N: I’ve been wanting to write for Steve since I first saw ST and finally decided to! He’s my current tv crush so I’ll probably be putting out more fics of him soon :)

cross-posted to ao3 • st masterlist • writing masterlist

You’d seen a lot of scary things over the past few years, but nothing had terrified you more than witnessing Steve being mauled by the demonic bats in the upside down. It took a lot of fighting from you and the others, but you managed to kill them. There was no chance to be relieved because Steve was hurt badly and there were more coming.

When the five of you fled into the creepy, dark woods, you noticed Steve wincing in pain with every step. It gave you anxiety, so you lingered back with him while Nancy led the way to her house with Robin by her side and Eddie close behind them. You could’ve easily caught up but there was no way you were gonna part from your best friend while he was injured.

“I’m okay, Y/N,” Steve tried to assure you as if he could sense your worrying thoughts. “It’s-it’s really not that bad.” He shot you a weak smile, but it wasn’t very convincing. Especially when he shuddered and his hand fell to his wounds briefly. Nancy had wrapped them in an attempt to stop the bleeding but that obviously did nothing to ease the pain.

“You’re not a very good liar,” you replied, a frown tugging at your lips. You were shorter than Steve and not as strong, but you still moved to tuck yourself at his side under his arm and let him lean on you. He was tired and stumbling—both mentally and physically exhausted—and you didn’t doubt he’d collapse any second.

“Y/N—” Steve said in a protesting tone, but you interrupted him.

“Shut up, Harrington. Just let me help, alright?” You looked up at him and he just sighed and allowed you to help him. You could tell he felt bad but he shouldn’t have. Steve was there for you all the time, it was the least you could do.

You knew Steve in highschool and he wasn’t exactly your friend then, but you never had any issues with him. That’s why after you graduated and got a job at StarCourt Mall (before it burned down), you recognized and were friendly with him. You worked in a shoe store that was opposite to Scoops Ahoy and after going for ice cream on your breaks a few times, it became a normal thing. You’d go get ice cream and chat with Steve—and Robin—until your break was over.

You quickly became friends and that’s what led to him revealing to you the secret message in Russian that he, Robin, and his kid friend Dustin were decoding. Then you learned everything else and the rest was history.

Over time you developed a bit of a crush on Steve, but he was now also your best friend. You, him, and Robin were a trio and you didn’t want to risk messing that up by telling him how you felt.

Robin calling Nancy’s name snapped you out of your head. With your support Steve stayed on his feet as you caught up to them. Sure enough, you saw the Wheeler house.

“Come on,” Nancy announced.

The five of you made your way inside and headed up the stairs into Nancy’s room to look for her guns. Except, they weren’t there. She noticed her room was off—not including the obvious greyish color and all the vines—and with the discovery of a diary, she started to piece together why her room was all wrong.

“What is it?” Eddie asked.

“Nancy? You’re freaking me out,” Robin added.

“I think the reason that my guns are here is because they don’t exist yet,” Nancy said in a way that sounded ominous as she stared at the diary in her hands.

“They don’t… exist?” Eddie sounded sceptical, which you couldn’t blame him for.

“This diary should be full of entries. It’s not,” she explained. “The last entry is November 6, 1983. The day Will went missing. The day the gate opened. We’re in the past.”

Your attention was drawn to Steve as he looked around the room, like he could hear something. Then he frantically began shouting out Dustin’s name as he exerted himself to run downstairs.

When focusing on trying to hear the boy, all of you were able to. Eddie used the lights to signal SOS and then Dustin came up with an idea. The kid was smart—probably a genius. He used a litebrite to allow you to communicate.

You all developed a plan to go to Eddie’s trailer where Chrissy had died and hope there was a gate there. You figured there would be since the gate in the water—or watergate as Dustin called it—had formed where Venca’s most recent victim was killed.

The biggest problem with getting to Eddie’s trailer was the distance, but Robin thought of a solution to that.

Robin’s idea to find bikes renewed the energy in the group. Robin was in the hall quickly with Eddie behind, waiting for Nancy to lead the way. They were eager to get back to the normal world and so were you. Just as you were about to follow, you heard a thud.

You turned your head and found Steve on the ground. He’d tried to stand but failed.

“Hey, you okay?” You asked as you kneeled down in front of him. “Sorry, dumb question,” you apologized quickly.

“Steve, can you stand?” Nancy questioned, obviously worried as well.

“Yeah,” he grunted out. “I just need a minute,” he admitted.

You looked over your shoulder at the others. “I’ll stay with him, go ahead and find the bikes. We’ll be down in a second.”

You could tell the other three were reluctant to leave you two behind, but you planned to keep your promise of making it down to them.

When they disappeared from view, Steve dropped the act. His face contorted in pain and he practically fell over. It was only because of your quick reaction time that you were able to maneuver yourself and guide his head to rest in your lap rather than hit the ground. You managed to lean your back against the bed and your legs were straight out in front of you. Steve laid on the floor, curling his body in himself and using your thighs as a pillow.

Your hand fell to absentmindedly run your fingers through his disheveled—although still soft and luscious—hair. He seemed to relax under the touch, his breath slowing to become more steady.

“We’re gonna get out of here and as soon as we do we’ll get you to a hospital. We’ll be okay. You’ll be okay,” you reassured not only Steve but yourself as well. You needed him to be okay. You didn’t know what you’d do if he wasn’t.

“I’m gonna be fine,” he promised. There was a slight shake in his voice, so small you wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t paying such close attention. “Sorry for making you stay with me. I’m acting like such a wimp right now,” he said with a small scoff as he mocked himself.

You let out a laugh at that without even thinking. He was being ridiculous. “Dude! You are not a wimp, you got attacked by evil bats. You’re allowed to be in pain.”

“It’s okay, I’m just using it as an excuse so you’ll play with my hair anyway,” he joked. You could hear the smile in his voice and it made you relax. You two liked to tease each other and it was refreshing to hear his voice sound light and amused.

“Well, if that’s what you wanted all you had to do was ask,” you replied, going along with it.

“You’re too good to me,” he hummed in content. There was a moment of silence before he took a deep breath. It surprised you as he hauled himself up next to sit next to you. He turned his head and you faced him. “Can I ask you something?”

The switch from teasing to sincere stunned you a tad, but you still responded with, “of course.”

“Is it selfish of me to say I’m glad you’re here?” He asked softly, voice laced with slight guilt. “I mean, I’d rather us not be here at all, but since we are it’s better having you with me,” he further explained, rambling just a bit. You didn’t say anything about his quick words and instead smiled at him.

“I know the feeling,” you smiled sweetly, reaching for his hand. You panicked for a second, realizing what you’d said and how you’d said it. “I am pretty awesome,” you added on with fake cockiness in your tone. Just in case. You often used humor to cover up your slip ups of emotion.

Steve laughed a little to himself before saying, “yeah, you are.” The mood in the room stayed the same as before. The way he looked at you was soft yet full of emotion. You’d seen that gaze before but always explained it away. Steve squeezed your hand a little and pulled you back to reality.

“You ready to head down?” you asked, changing the subject.

“Just one more thing,” Steve replied. “And you have to promise not to punch me in the face.”

You let out a confused laugh at that, furrowing your brows a little. “What?” you questioned through a chuckle.

“I’m serious, c’mon,” he urged.

“Fine, I promise.”

He cleared his throat slightly, you could tell he was nervous.

Suddenly, everything felt in slow motion as his hand raised to rest on the back of your neck with his thumb grazing your cheek. You hardly had time to react as Steve leaned in, but when his lips brushed against yours you allowed your eyes to flutter shut as you accepted the kiss.

All too soon, Steve pulled back. Not very far though, your noses were almost touching.

“Was that… okay?” he asked nervously, searching your eyes.

Your cheeks felt warm and your heart was racing, but you managed to get words out. “More than okay.”

He smiled at that before leaning in and capturing your lips once more. The shyness in the first, gentle kiss had disappeared as your lips moved together. He pulled you impossibly close to him and allowed all the built up longing to be expressed through the connection. His lips were just as soft as you imagined and you loved every second.

If it had been up to you, you would’ve never allowed your lips to part, but the need for oxygen got in the way and the two of you reluctantly separated to catch your breath.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” you spoke first, making him blush a little.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I have too. But I guess that’s obvious,” Steve replied with a little chuckle, loving eyes locked with yours. “I’ve been too scared all this time. About ruining our friendship, y’know? I’d hate myself forever if I drove you away.”

“That’s not gonna happen,” you promised softly. “What made you decide to risk it?” You wondered aloud. “I’m happy you did by the way, you’re a good kisser,” you commented with a cheeky grin.

Steve laughed before he shifted into a more serious tone. “I just… I needed to do that. In case anything happens,” he confessed.

Your heart sank a little with fear. “Nothings gonna happen to us, Steve.” You had to believe that.

“You’re right,” he responded, feigning as if he believed the words that even you didn’t believe. He used the hand that was still touching your face to run through your hair. His hand rested on the back of your head and he pulled you to him to press a kiss to your forehead. “When we’re back home, I’m gonna take you to dinner. Like a real date,” Steve said as he leaned back. “Only if you want,” he added.

You rolled your eyes with a smile and shoved his shoulder a little, causing him to chuckle as well. “Of course I want to, idiot. Did you not hear me before?”

“I guess it’s still hard to believe you like me back,” he shrugged, sounding a little embarrassed with himself for not being confident.

“Well, I don’t just like you,” you said, building up your own bravery before saying, “I love you, Steve,” you professed your feelings. You’d been hiding them for so long and now just felt like the moment to get everything out there, just as Steve had.

The cutest smile that you had ever seen crossed his face. “For real?”

“Well, duh,” you said mockingly, easing the tension for yourself. “That would be a mean joke to play, I’m not that cruel.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said in the same ‘isn’t it obvious?’ tone you used. “I mean… I love you too. And it’s really, really awesome to hear you feel the same.”

You didn’t get to say anything else before he was pulling you into another passionate kiss.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me!” a familiar voice shouted, causing you and Steve to jump apart. You and Steve both looked to the doorway to find Robin standing there. “We are trying to get out of this place and you guys are up here making out!? I mean, I know Steve has been into you like forever Y/N—he made me promise not to tell you even though I really wanted to—and I’m really happy for you guys and we are definitely talking about this later, but we don’t have much time here!” Robin chattered on.

“Robin, chill,” Steve held out his hands, trying to calm her down.

You stood up first and then held out your hand to Steve. “Let’s go, Harrington,” you told him with a small smirk of amusement.

He looked up at you and grasped your hand. He returned your little smile despite the way he winced as you helped him up. “I’ll go wherever you want,” Steve teased. However, from the way he looked at you, you believed him.

You couldn't wait to get back to the real world.

#quin-ns writing #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #stranger things 4 #stranger things #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington/reader #steve harrington/you #steve harrington x y/n #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #eddie munson

[emsvertigo]

Nectar Of The Gods

image not mine, found on pinterest

summary & genre — angst, fluff & slight nsfw. as a na’vi you have always been sceptical of trusting sky people and dream-walkers, so there’s no difference when jake suddenly joins your tribe. rumours begin to spread about him, but all you want to know is his true intent. why is he really here, and why is his existence plaguing your every thought?

warnings — canon-typical violence, sexual references, strong language (c’mon it’s jake)

character & pairing — jake sully x fem!na’vi!reader (avatar. 2009)

word count — 3.1k

a/n — hii! this is my first post back on this account since i finally got inspiration back after 2/3 years!! sorry if you’ve come from the lord of the rings fandom and followed me when that was my normal thing to post, i appreciate you but i have moved on to different fandoms <3 anyway i got into avatar pretty recently with the release of the new film and MY GOD is jake sully fit, anyway, this is such an self insert cause i’m in love with him (aren’t we all). thank you to @nptnewr who has been a legend by inspiring me to write again (and getting me into avatar) ilysm!

find my old fics here! ✿

takes place during avatar. 2009, no way of water spoilers!

The whispers had started quickly. Through leaves and into the trees, casting a mist of rumour around the air, sticking damply to conversation. The sky person disguised in an ally’s body had arrived in the village suddenly, presenting no warning to the tribe of his coming or when his departure would be imminent. The gossiping tales of his true intentions were only fiction, planted like seeds to keep curiosity blossoming into a thick vine of chaotic lies. Some whispers spoke of his swift acceptance of the native way of life, and how his sacrifices presented him as a trustworthy friend, rather than an enemy to be slaughtered. Some spoke kindly of Eywa’s presence in his life and followed the deity’s instructions of selectively choosing this certain being. However, there were still some who spoke of darkness and the oncoming storm that would follow his path, destroying life in his wake. His footsteps covered with the blood of families after luring them to their doom, enchanting them with hope.

The blade in your hand trembled as you cut through bone, sharpening the ends of your arrows in haste. A pile of thin items grew swiftly beside you, accompanied by your bow. Your fingers were crying from holding the knife with extreme pressure, but your thoughts only grew, circling with stories and myths about this man, this alien, as your fingertips turned pale. With every movement of your arm, a grunt emerged from your clenched teeth. Snarling at the thought of the dream-walker amongst you, living as though his life was connected to the planet as yours was. He had won the heart of many, yet it was still strange that he distanced himself and became clueless when talking about pressing matters, hoping to come to peace with his kind and your tribe, pretending to warn you about dangers to come. Trespassers and strangers should be insulted and killed for their embarrassingly horrific behaviour.

The knife clattered to the branch beneath you, breaking the mould of concentration that covered your mind. You looked down at the discarded tool, useless and lifeless in shape after overwork. You hissed, grabbing the blade and throwing it far into the night, along with the arrow you had been working on. The air nipped your face as you sat at the edge of a tree branch, separated from home. Your pile of arrows accompanied you, balancing in the grooves of the bark.

Below your swinging feet, you spotted the ground glowing with footsteps, a dark figure stalking its way through the undergrowth. The footsteps of the being were quiet, yet the patter of bare feet was loud in your twitching ears. His name slowly fell from your lips, like a drop of poison. The curl of your lips grimaced as the syllables left your tongue. He was an insider for the sky people, and could not be left to fester within your home.

You quickly stood, grabbing your bow and arrows, and balancing your feet against the edge of the wood. At this height, you concluded that it was the creature you were looking for, as his movements around the forest were hasty and unfamiliar. Placing your arrows into their quiver, situated on your back, you jumped gracefully down onto the floor. The luminescent green colour of the leaves immediately grew as your skin connected with the plants.

Keeping the figure in your eyesight, you dropped to your hands and feet, keeping low to avoid detection. Your feet patted gently against the forest floor, as your hands quickly moved any bushes obstructing your view. You saw his figure turn into a small dip in the ground, an area covered by glistening trees, blue. Now you stood, your pace quickening with the advantage of being placed on your feet.

When you reached the secluded area, you brushed the drooping leaves aside, stepping into the glowing space. His back was turned to you, standing straight and strong. You quietly released an arrow and placed it into your bow, drawing the string far back, and aiming it directly at his head. You took a small step forward, the ground crunching beneath your feet. His ears twitched with the sound, immediately he started to turn around.

“Jake-Sully” You spoke, your grip tightening around the bow, hand beginning to cramp. He let out a small sound of surprise. “You are trespassing on our land.”

His eyes flashed with humour, “Easy girl.” He laughed, his hands raising to either side of his face. You pulled the bowstring back further in retaliation.

“Do not insult me.” You took a step forward. His face was soft in the cool glow and his features seemed boyish in close proximity. Innocence radiated across his form, but you knew better than to trust this version of him. “You know what you have done.”

Jake’s head tilted, questioning your motives with a flash of his eyes and raise of eyebrows. “I’ve been nothing but good to your people.” He stated. “I know you may not trust me for who I am, but I know I’ve tried my best to appreciate and learn your way of life.”

You rolled your eyes and groaned loudly in annoyance. Your arrow stayed aimed at his head. “Eywa chose you, why?”

He smirked in response, lowering his arms. A gesture that made your skin crawl and you moved your bow, indicating that he should keep them up. He obeyed.

“I’ve been asking myself the same damn question.”

“You are ignorant, stupid and do not care for our world.” You snarled, “You are working for your kind, you don’t want to protect us.”

He sighed, his tail swishing in annoyance. His nose creased, “Now who’s insulting who?” He muttered.

Your arrow tightened in your grasp, the pain between your fingers becoming overbearingly sore. In a flash, you turned your bow to face its attention directly next to his ear and released. The arrow pierced the air in a motion blur which spiralled out of the space beyond the trees, after nipping Jake on the tip of his ear. His hands suddenly dropped from the air, reaching up to cup his face in surprise. Your ears moved at the sound of his pathetic cries, and your tail swung angrily.

“You are no warrior.” You stated, arm lowering the empty bow to your side. You scoffed as you looked at his terrified face, his eyes wide and pupils dilated.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” He yelled, spit flying across the space that separated your bodies. “You could’ve killed me!”

“But I didn’t.” You frowned, mocking his childish expression.

“You are unbelievable.” He mumbled, stepping forward, an indication that he was leaving. Yet, your hand, dropping the bow, reached out to place a palm on his chest, stopping his motions.

“Why are you really here, Jake?” Venom was still evident in your tone, yet with his proximity, your voice lowered. His eyes flickered, as he stared down at you, and your hand flat on his body. “And don’t tell me your story of hope and justice.”

Jake’s chest rose and fell under the weight of your hand, his heartbeat quickening. “If you don’t want to hear it, I can’t tell you.”

Your feet stepped closer to him, your faces almost touching with breath intertwining in the warm air. Your body almost accompanied your hand, flushed against his humid skin, his sweat and scent. “I know you are not here for peace.” You pause, “You are here for war.”

“I promise you, I’m not.” He mumbled, his breath spilling onto your face. Your eyes, connected in a weary trance, narrowed. You stepped away, hand falling back to your side. A breath he was holding in fell from his lips in quick exhaustive sounds. Your eyes fell to the floor.

“Lying betrays trust.” You stated, looking back into his eyes now, his eyelids heavy. “Not that I trust you, but others do.”

He sighed, his eyes closing for a brief moment, taking in the words you had spoken to him. In the silence, you could faintly hear the noises of the tribe far behind you two, and the growing sounds of the forest. Jake brought a hand up to scratch his forehead in defeat.

“Y’know, I’ve changed over time, right?” He asked, staring directly into your eyes, apology dripping off his tongue. “I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

“Be out with it!” You cried, flinging our hands out towards him and pushing him backwards, however, his strength kept him firmly in place. Your hands rested on his chest in tight fists.

“I was recruited to gain your trust and lure you out of your home so that the humans could obtain some materials.” He breathed, looking straight ahead now.

You understood plainly what the statement meant, and all the nasty details it entailed. It would cause the collapse of the tribe's home, and all your memories would vanish when the tree fell. Your eyes pricked with angry tears, desperately trying to blink them away. You knew this would be the case. That Jake was not a friend, he was not worthy of anyone’s trust. Your head lulled forward, connecting with his chest, seeking comfort and not caring who you were connected to. Your fist bashed against his skin, yet he did not yell when your cries came.

“You liar!” You yelled, your vocal cords straining with the anger in your voice. “We trusted you!”

Your heart burned, creating a large searing hole in your chest. Agony filled your senses. Pain. Betrayal. Lies. Your tail swatted the air, as your fist pounded his chest. Tears were streaming down your cheeks in harsh floods.

Slowly you felt strong arms around you, pulling your body further into him. Your forehead disconnected from his chest, and you stared up at him, eyes widened. His calloused hands rested themselves on either side of your thighs, cupping your flesh close to him.

“But you wanna know why I didn’t?” He breathed, close to your face. His essence empowered your body and captivated your mind. However, you always found he was captivating your mind.

Long sleepless nights were crowded with the thoughts of him, why he was here and what he wanted. Yet often your mind wandered to what he did do here, and what the positive aspects of his arrival had been. Some nights you had been overcome with emotions of jealousy and hate towards the women whom he spoke to in the village. Yet you reassured yourself that this was felt due to the unwanted circumstances of his arrival. You reassured yourself it was due to his dream-walker persona that you felt the way you did. But now, with his hands wrapped around your body, so close that his breath was yours. You knew why your hatred grew so strong. Why you had a feeling it was against your honour to speak to him, let alone be in the same room with him. Many had shared their hatred and doubts, but none had been as obsessed as you had.

His eyes stared softly down at you. The same eyes that only moments before had widened with fright and annoyance. Eyes that clouded your dreams in soft fog which lifted into a pink sea of foam. The eyes you had caught glances of while he laughed, smiled, cheered. Your ears twitched in recognition of his low voice, rumbling into your ears. “Because I fell in love.”

Your eyes widened in surprise as the puzzle pieces slowly started to mould together, bonding into newfound information. The reason you became hot and flustered around even the slight mention of his name was not due to hatred. Those hot flushes in the night due to his appearance in your mind were due to the same thing. Love. His words suddenly made the tears jerking your eyes spill again, drowning your cheeks in clear liquid.

“I’m sorry I probably shouldn’t have said anything.” He whispered, one of his hands reaching up to cup your cheek and wipe the tears away. In retaliation, your hand began reaching up from your side, raised to meet his grasp and interlink your fingers together, closely. Your hands meet in front of your faces.

“Jake…” You breathed, standing up straight and touching your forehead with his. Your new realisation was difficult to express in the form of words, your brain was still wracked with this new information it had been presented with.

He slowly lowered your hands to the side, and spoke your name, close and low. The sound of your syllables falling off his tongue sent a shiver down your spine, and the back of your neck grew hotter as his hand on your waist pulled you increasingly closer. “I chose you long ago.” He purred, “I just wonder if you’ll choose me.”

His head slowly lowered, in a gesture that made the hairs on your arms stand on end, and a sudden hotness plunge straight to your core. Your eyelashes fluttered as you breathed, “I will always choose you, Jake.”

“Well, then..” He trailed off, his face inches from yours now. “Can I kiss you?”

Your head nodded before your brain could keep up, and in a swift moment, his lips had joined with yours. A gasp tried desperately to escape your lips, but he swallowed it, claiming every breath of yours to be one of his. Your eyes slowly closed, when you submitted to the unfamiliar feeling. His lips moved slowly against yours in seductively intricate movements, like two strangers dancing in the night.

His hand removed itself from your waist and travelled up the side of your naked body, stopping to trace over bumps and scars imprinted on your flesh. His hand soon found its place at the base of your jaw, cupping the shape. His fingers slowly tickled the side of your face as his lips worked their way around yours.

A low sound escaped from his throat, growling as you opened your mouth for his tongue to dive into. Plunging into the abyss that was your hot mouth. Your response was a quiet moan, startled by his new courage, as your tongue licked a stripe up one of his front teeth.

Jake's hand suddenly came to rest on your chin and pulled it away from him as he caught his breath. His chest rising and falling from the action that had just taken place, you noticed how his pupils dilated and grew lustful when soaking in your image. Your breath was raging its way through your lungs and up through your throat in shallow gasps.

“I have dreamed of that moment.” You spoke through breaths. It felt strange to admit it aloud but his face was in every thought you had, even if it had taken you this long to believe it. Your chest fell in one final long breath, which caused the beads on your necklace to clink against each other, breaking the silence that had fallen between the two of you.

Jake’s eyes had not left you since the kiss broke, but his demeanour was uncharacteristically quiet. His hand had broken the bond with your own and had started roaming your jaw to accompany the other one, yet now he gazed down at you. Not wanting to ruin the moment with a quick movement or a train of thought.

Your hair had become unravelled and had now fallen in front of your eyes, in small ringlets, loose from their original braids. However, neither of you could find the courage to move and fix them back into place behind your ears. Your heartbeat was pounding, your mind wishing that Jake would speak.

“You are beauty.” He finally stated, his hand running down your neck and onto the top of your chest. You felt your cheeks heat up from the compliment, but did not want to look away from his cautious gaze. “I truly believe that.”

You smiled and swore you heard him curse beneath his breath when you did so. Your hands grazed at the front of his chest, as his arms circled your neck. “If you were not from a distant star, I would have thought Eywa had created you for me.” You giggled, “Even if you are stupid, you are also selfless.”

At this, Jake laughed, a sound that echoed through your ear and made your eyes flutter closed. “I guess that combination works.”

You began laughing at this comment and brought yourself forward to kiss him once again. His smile was evident on his lips as your bodies collided once more, your front flushed against his own. The gentle movement of lips which were once hasty began to invade your brain. Short laughs played out underneath the weight of lips, and smiles stopped the kiss from becoming just as intimate as the last.

You broke free of his lips and planted a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth, leaving yourself to linger there for a few moments longer, breathing in his scent. His smile curled when your lips retreated and your feet landed steadily back on the ground, tail swishing mindlessly in happiness. The root of your problems towards Jake was so obvious now, and your raging want for him had so pointlessly turned into disgust.

“Shit.” He smiled, “It was only a couple minutes ago you wanted me dead.”

Your head dropped low, and your eyes focused on the bow laying discarded at your feet. The ground illuminated the placement of the bow, as you recalled the events before Jake had distracted you with his surprising confession. “I don’t know if I should forgive you for what you said before.”

His head now lowered, joining your gaze towards your feet and the weapon situated there. He sighed into your ear, regretting what he had agreed to do, “I understand.” He paused, thinking of what to say next, “You don’t have to forgive me.”

Your head lifted towards his face again, your eyes meeting his as his pupils dilated. “I understand, Jake.” You spoke, “I wish your honesty was not forced by my threats, but I know what it’s like to not want to see the truth.”

Your foreheads met once more, “Please accept my apology, I did not understand my emotions.” You breathed, cupping your hand in his, circling the back of his rough hand with your thumb.

He chuckled, “I should be sayin’ sorry to you for all the shit I’ve put the Omatikaya through.” Your eyes narrowed with his mocking tone, which he quickly discarded. “Which I am, I apologise for everything.”

He gave a quick squeeze to your hand, reaching up and kissing your forehead. Your eyes fluttered shut when you felt his breath against your skin, hand tangled in your grasp. Soon his body returned to its natural stature and your eyes opened.

“I see you.” He spoke, once his eyes were level with yours once more.

“I see you, Jake.” You whispered, bringing your interlinked hands up to your mouth, longingly kissing Jake's knuckles in one long motion.

#hioreh fanfictions #jake sully #jake sully avatar #jake sully x reader #jake sully x you #jake sully fanfiction #jake sully fanfics #jake sully fluff #jake sully angst #fanfic #fanfiction #avatar #avatar 2009 #james cameron’s avatar #sam worthington

[faetaiity]

my brain somehow decided that I need to use the rest of my active braincells to do this, Hyperfixations are wild when you write, man. I also feel like I need to explain this because I overthink

Basically, what's about to go down in this post: Adult! Platonic/Familial Yandere! 1987, 2003, 2012, Bayverse and Last ronin! TMNT x Male! ROTTMNT! Reader (With slight Familial Yandere! from them for the Rise! Turtles)

the ages are mostly bullshit/made up in this ig except for Ronin! Michelangelo because he's canonically 31 or older

Reader is the same age as ROTTMNT! Michelangelo (Birthyear: 2005)

This is set during 2020, a few months after the Kraang Invasion. (The ROTTMNT ages are color-coded: 17, 16, 16, 15 and 15. every other iteration of the TMNT are implied to be 20-26, with an exception for Ronin! Michelangelo)

Why did I explain the premise? Because I want to make sure you guys understand. THIS. IS. NOT. ROMANTIC. and If I see anyone who adds more to this story or makes jokes about the OLDER turtles being attracted to the reader (Illegal due to Reader being a Minor.) or the ROTTMNT turtles (Illegal due to the Rise! Turtles being minors and being related to them.), you're getting blocked. no questions.

Minor Notes: While this is platonic, I understand if someone misinterprets some of the HC's due to the fact that each family is different with affection, some (like mine) make me feel guilty if I don't cuddle/hug them, some of this is inspired by my own family, Familial yandere writers (or at least me lol) tend to make stories relate to their own experiences with their family, If you read this and complain that it has 'romantic' aspects (which, affection isn't even exclusively romantic what??), I'm going to get a little mad since this is my experience with family, lol.

TW/CW: minor(?) Spoilers for The Last Ronin, Kidnapping, Abuse (Physically and mentally from 'Punishments'), manipulation, guilt tripping, possible gaslighting(?), Implied Murder, Infantilization, Stalking, Mentions of Panic attacks, stress tics (scratching/clawing at the skin), Yandere Behavior, Obsessive/Possessive Behavior, Extreme Overprotective behavior, OOC Older TMNT Iterations (Specifically 1987! and Bayverse!), Forced Affection, Surprise Adoption from the older versions of your best friends, mentions of Scars, missing limbs and Trauma from Rise! Shredder and Rise! Kraang (reader is mentioned to have scars and a missing eye) (Yeah that's long as shit because this post is probably gonna be long as shit)

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On a scale from 1 to 10 my friends, you're FUCKED /ref

Now I'm gonna start off with you meeting them a specific way and branch out to more options down the line.

Donnie ended up making a machine that COULD send someone or an object across to a separate universe if he was correct.

Unfortunately, you ended up getting sucked up into the Machine-Made portal due to being close to it

To make this easier on my brain, let's say the other iterations of the turtles are already together, through a similar device that was used by the Kraang/Utroms

And your dumbass landed right in the middle of a huge argument between Ronin! Michelangelo and 2003! Raphael

Everyone freezes, including you, they LOOK like your best friends but are clearly not, there's differences between them and your friends, height is a big noticeable difference that tips you off.

Weapons are drawn almost instantaneously, multiple different sets of Katanas, Nun chucks, and Sai's are pointed at you

And oddly, just as quickly as they raised their weapons, they put them back down

In their minds, they quickly draw together than you're unarmed and a lot younger than they are

You get up on your legs, unsure of how to respond to them, you remember the photos of you and your turtles on your phone

You slowly pull out your phone, knowing they could mistake it for a weapon, you scroll through your phone until you find the photo of you, Donnie and Leo in Run of the Mill Pizza, they calm down at the sight of it

They sheathed their weapons, studying your body warily, you feel weirded out at the fact that they haven't said anything; you could understand that behavior from Donnie or Raph, but not the other two

You swallow your nervousness and shakily say "I'm [Y/N]"

You notice one of the Michelangelo's runs right up to you, clearly excited at the Idea of someone from another universe that isn't in theirs

He noticed your eyepatch as soon as he gets up to your face and winces "Jeez, what happened to your eye?" he blurts out, Surprisingly, Leo smacks upside the head, Mikey mutters out a small apology, you laugh softly, not taking offense to it

They all introduce themselves with the year they're from and their age, you immediately notice all of them are adults

They're already wincing at your scars from life-threatening injuries and clearly injured or missing eye, but they just kind of.... freeze when you say "Wow! You guys are a lot older than My versions of y'all!"

They stay quiet for a second before you embarrassedly mumble out: "Oh... I'm sorry, that was rude of me" you avert your eyes

2012! Leo is the first one to speak "No... Offense taken; we were just caught off guard.... how old are you and your versions of us?" "Oh! Well Raph's 17, Leo and Donnie are 16, Me and Mikey are 15"

Silence, before Bayverse! Raphael bursts out laughing "I'M THE OLDEST?!" clearly, he's happy at that, and so are the other Raphs, apparently, since you can see their smirks at their respective Leos, who frown

You nod nervously, his volume scaring you slightly, He noticed you flinching and quiets down

Your age kind of takes a minute for them to process, considering your scars made them assume you're a little older, they end up asking you when you got the scars

"Oh! The giant scar is from the Shredder, the missing eye and the other smaller scars are from the kraang!" you breathed out for a few seconds, calming yourself down from remembering those unhappy situations "I got the big one when I was 13, everything else happened a few months ago."

They all.... look at you in a weird manner, it was a mix of pure anger, pity, and.... self-loathing, oddly enough? "Ah, I'm sorry if I reminded you guys of any..... unhappy situations..." you shyly said, they stayed quiet, feeling uncomfortable with the stares, you changed the subject "I need to be able to get back home! Donnie's probably freaking the absolute fuck out by now"

Ronin! Michelangelo takes initiative to tell you that you are welcome here as long as it takes, the others nod, you thank them all profusely

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It scares all of them over the next few weeks when you'd tell them stories about your adventures, they've come to understand that, well, in a blunt way, you and their younger counterparts clearly aren't able to take care of yourselves

And they've actually come to loathe Rise! Splinter, they've come to understand that their dad wasn't the best, but it makes their blood boil at how badly it can be for you and the Rise! Turtles.

Even they didn't fight the Shredder at that age!

However, they do feel a little better knowing you five defeated him, but not by much considering how close you all were to dying

especially you.

I'm gonna be honest, there is three ways it can go when your friends come to bring you back to your Universe

1: The other iterations come back with you guys, being delusional in the fact that you guys can't take care of yourselves

2: They don't let you go back with them, and they tell the Rise! Turtles to leave (This would be most likely if you share unfavorable stories of the Turtles, while forgetting to add where you guys talk it out or the reason why it happened, they become very attached to you specifically in the few weeks they've known you!)

3: (This is the one we will be explaining in this Post) They keep all of you in the Universe that you fell into. (This is the one most likely to occur due to ROTTMNT! Reader and Turtles are injured severely from the Kraang Invasion)

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It is not a good time for the first few weeks, You and your best friends fight tooth and nail at every point through them keeping you guys

They're beyond delusional, chalking it up to teenage rebellion and the nature of the Rise! Turtles

You five end up being locked up in a room, a few hidden cameras being placed in there

y'all aren't allowed out usually (and NEVER out of the lair) since to the Older! Turtles, you five are ungrateful brats who can't think for themselves

You and Mikey are babied, you two are the youngest and have been through so much!

It's suffocating

They always want to be near you, because in their words "You're the one who needs protection the most"

Donnie is allowed keep his battle shell due to the nature of his species (Also because they don't know about all the weaponry in it)

There isn't much room for escape, almost none, actually

17 Adult Mutant Ninja Turtles guarding the lair, at least 2 home at all times?

yeah, good luck, even Rise! Donnie is stumped.

In order of Importance (Most to Least) It's You and Mikey, Leo, Donnie and then Raph

Donnie and Raph are mostly ignored because they suffered the least number of injuries, and they're the oldest.

Previous Leos don't approve of yours, saying he's not Mature or Serious enough, often taking him for training/sparring

Don't let that fool you, your Leo has come back in worse shape than he was to begin with, often coming back trying to hide his tears, you guys stopped letting him go with them once it was found that his shell was starting to crack more. I wonder why

Donnie comes up with a plan to escape with Raph to regroup and find out how to get back home

and, to their credit, they manage to leave the lair, about 15 minutes later, Ronin! Mikey comes in, once he sees they're gone, he starts breaking objects in the room and yells at You, Mikey and Leo.

The others quickly come in and try to pull Ronin! Mikey away, which he resists until he sees you having a panic attack, Rise! Mikey trying to console you and Rise! Leo in a defensive position, around you

He leaves the room and announces that he's going to find them, some of the other turtles try to get near you to comfort you but Leo isn't letting it happen, he actually tries to attack one of them, making them back off

Oh, Raph and Donnie are fucked, by the way.

Now, Lemme tell you WHY you never want a Yandere! Ronin! Mikey hunting you down

He's the oldest, the most skilled and canonically in the books, the mutagen that is still in his system makes him stronger, bigger and more durable, plus the trauma of losing his brothers has made this situation strike a nerve with him.

he could probably break Rise! Raph's leg

Which he does.

About an hour or two later, he comes back with them, they're both knocked out, Raph's leg is bent unnaturally, and Donnie's Battle shell is ripped to shreds and he has bruises all over him.

Ronin! Mikey comes in and throws them back into the room, Donnie's battle shell in his hands "Found out the main reason why he wanted that damn thing to stay on his back." he stated bluntly, pointing at the drone wings and the spider-like claws, giving it to 2003! Donnie, who marvels at it

You're picked up by one of them, Rise! Leo starts freaking out and trying to get you away from them, until someone else enters the room and keeps him away until you're out

You're placed in a separate room, fearing that they're going to hurt you, you try to cover your head, curling into a fetal position, separation anxiety already kicking in due to the circumstances.

You feel someone rub your back reassuringly, making you cry and hyperventilate more.

"Hey, hey, you're okay, nobody's going to do anything to you" you whimper as you hear 1987! Raph attempt to calm you down

he tells you that you being taken away is the Rise! Turtles' punishment, and that nothing is going to happen to you

"What about My friends?" you sob out, he doesn't respond, he just pulls you close to him and hugs you; you try to pull away only to hear him say "I'm trying to make you feel BETTER, stop resisting! don't you know how much effort we're putting in to help you five out?! To take care of you guys?!" his yelling makes you stiffen, allowing him to pull you back closer to him.

I'm gonna be honest, you get the least severe punishments compared to your turtle friends, you're weak, regardless of if you're human or mutated (Mostly because the mutagen hasn't improved your strength as much as it did theirs yet.), you're WEAK.

They could, especially Ronin! Mikey, end up KILLING you if they gave you the same punishments.

Very few mutations would even get the harsher punishments anyways, all of them being Reptilian or large Mammalians.

Humans, Insect mutants, Bird Mutants and other mutants that could get hurt easier due to their physiology get special treatment.

At worst your punishments leave you with shallow claw marks, maybe a fractured bone or two (This one was unintentional, though, just a testament to how much stronger they are compared to you.), bruises and panic attacks from separation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Awfully enough, they try to separate you from your friends on a regular basis

Saying your Raph might get a rage fit and hurt you, or your Mikey accidentally getting too excited and hurting you

Any excuse they can pull out of their ass to keep you away from them

They don't tell them where they keep you, of course

It's mostly in Donnie's lab though, where you spend time with them

Rise! Donnie isn't allowed in there because that's where they keep the Rise! Turtles' mystic weapons (Mainly studying them)

The only reason why you're never permanently kept from the Rise! Turtles is because you have panic attacks from being away from them, the Turtles also get hyper confrontational, even more so than usual when you're gone.

You always get returned by the end of the day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now, let's go onto say that you guys ACTUALLY managed to escape back to your universe through a sheer stroke of luck.

Staying that way is gonna be hard.

Donnie immediately destroys the portal, but that doesn't mean the others can't build their own

Depending on if you move to another part of the sewer again, is how likely you are to stay uncaptured

If you guys stay at the same spot, they'll find y'all in another few months

if y'all move maybe they won't find you guys.

Staying? They're going to find you guys in as little as a few weeks, but they won't immediately grab you guys

They stalk you five, they're delusional and try to rationalize why you five left.

Staying might be the initial response, you five come back down, hoping to see Splinter, but you just see those 17 figures, some covered in blood

"What did you do, WHAT DID YOU DO?!" your Leo would sob out, assuming the worst

All you five get back are cold stares

Instead of taking you back to the other universe, they stay here and keep you locked in your own home.

But they make sure that y'all can't leave for a while.

The turtles get broken bones, and you get a shock collar

If you think they were bad before, you haven't seen shit

They're always around you five now, never letting any of you out of their sight.

It's hell.

It's pure torture.

and they're never letting you guys go.

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I didn't go into as much detail as I would've liked, maybe this will be like a series idk??

#tmnt 1987 #tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2k12 #tmnt bayverse #tmnt 2k3 #the last ronin #rottmnt #mikey x reader #michelangelo #raph x reader #raphael #donnie x reader #donatello #leo x reader #leonardo #yandere #yandere tmnt #yandere rottmnt #tmnt x male reader #tmnt x reader #rottmnt x male reader #rottmnt x reader #tmnt headcanons #platonic yandere #familial yandere #save rottmnt #fae being a dumbass #chaotic gremlin fae