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#they are so tragic like the angst is UNBEARABLE
oreonyu · 10 months
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just some silly stsg things <3
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mcverse · 1 year
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hi!!!! i have a req for neteyam x na’vi reader with a “marriage of convenience” trope. where reader does genuinely try to make it work with neteyam, but after months of being shut down she stops trying after talking to kiri. neteyam has always treated reader as a duty to be fulfilled, but LOWKEY has feelings for her he keeps SUPPRESSSSEDDDDD. however, after one of readers good friends from another clan visits, neteyams jealousy gets hold of him. you could make the rest however you’d like, but happy ending please🫶🏽
Pairings: Neteyam x F! Na’vi! Reader
Type: One Shot
Word count: 3.1K
Warnings: Angst, Miscommunication, slight jealous, not proof read, edited to fix mess ups
Side Bar: You’re amazing for requesting this! Thank you!!!
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please keep in mind that all characters in my stories are always 18+, and although I can't monitor who reads my work, if you are not 18+ I advise that you do not engage in my page or stories.
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Love, that elusive and mysterious emotion, has captivated you since you first heard about it. The concept of love is a feeling of warmth, passion, and a connection that's deeper than anything else, impossible to ignore. It's terrifying and exhilarating, often filled with moments of joy, uncertainty, and vulnerability.
But falling in love? That's a whole different story. It's like the world suddenly shifts into a whole new perspective. Colors are brighter, sounds are louder, and everything you didn't care about before suddenly becomes beautiful and captivating.
Your thoughts, your mind, your body - everything is consumed by the object of your affection. No amount of daydreaming or silly little creepy crawlers in your tummy could ever prepare you for finally being seen by them, for being loved by them.
It's tragic that not everyone has the luxury of falling in love for themselves. In many clans, people come together for the benefits of both parties. Love becomes an afterthought when situations arise, and it breaks your heart. It's almost like love becomes foreign to them, despite having found it on their own.
But to be forced into a relationship of convenience, not truly knowing the other person, is frightening and challenging. They're a stranger, and it feels so wrong to love them. It's like they weren't made for you, like Eywa didn't create them for you. And it hurts. It's a deep, stabbing pain in your chest that never truly goes away.
Why is it that anyone but you is allowed to love who they want?
The thought reverberates in your mind, a constant reminder of the burden you bear. Love, the very essence of Na’vi emotion, was supposed to be a choice, a right, not a privilege granted by duty. But there you are, trapped in a loveless relationship, forced into a union that you never wanted.
"It's your duty," they told you, as if that was supposed to make it easier. As if it was supposed to alleviate the guilt and the pain. "You will learn to love Neteyam, the chief of the Omaticaya Clan." It was always for the greater good, always about the needs of the clan. "This alliance will strengthen the Na'vi, it is the will of your father."
But what about your will? What about your heart? You didn't want to learn to love someone; it wasn't realistic, it was forced. The very idea of it was distressing, and it made you sick just thinking about it.
You knew, deep down, that it wasn't about how you felt, though.
It was clear as you saw your future mate leave your shared hut hurriedly, feeling the weight of the unspoken understanding between you. He was just as much a victim of this situation as you were, and it was obvious that love was an afterthought to him, just as it was to your people. You were just a means to an end, a pawn in a game that you never asked to play.
But you had to play along, no matter how unbearable it got. You sought him out against your better judgement, watching him like always from the distance at first. It was justified, your future mate was intimidating in both height and build. If he wanted to, he could break you easily, ridding you of existence due to your constant annoyance over the past few months.
When you finally work up the nerve, the training session have ended and you use that time approach him, fiddling with the small basket of Yovo fruits, “Ma Neteyam,” you called out to him, grabbing his attention immediately.
He tenses up, his face hardening as he motions with his head for the last young warrior to leave before giving his attention back to you, “Ma [Name], what are you doing here?” He asked, eyes flickering to the basket. His hands twitched by his side but remained there.
“I knew you would be training hard, Neteyam, so I thought I'd bring you a treat," you said, smiling up at him. You cringed inwardly at how needy you must look, reminding yourself why you had to get along with him.
Neteyam's lips formed a tight line, and his forehead creased as if he were pondering something difficult. Finally, he bowed his head to you. "That's kind of you," he said, his eyes drifting off to the side. "But I don't want any. Perhaps the trainees would?"
You could tell he was playing the nice card, as he always did. What he really meant was, "I don't want anything from you." Your ears flattened against your head in disappointment, and you lowered the basket.
"Of course," you said, trying to hide your disappointment. "What a great idea. Do you mind giving it to them then?" You raised the basket, suddenly feeling the weight of it more heavily than before, and offered it to him.
As Neteyam took the basket from you, you couldn't help but feel a small spark of hope. Maybe this time would be different. But as his fingers brushed yours, you felt him pull away as if your touch was toxic. His reaction stung, but you tried to hide it as he turned away from you.
"Of course," he muttered, barely looking at you.
You couldn't stand how he was treating you. It seemed like no matter how hard you tried, he was always shutting you out. You couldn't help but wonder if he was even trying to make this work.
You were caught between a rock and a hard place. On the one hand, you couldn't force him to love you, but on the other hand, you couldn't bear the thought of being alone if he doesn’t come around. The fact that this was all just for the benefit of your clans didn't make it any easier.
You tried to salvage the conversation, “Will I see you for dinner?” You tried again to make the effort, only to be shot down immediately, no hesitation whatsoever.
“I have patrols. Don’t wait up.” He left soon after, leaving you frustrated and hopeless. Nothing you ever do is reaching him, was he made out of actual rock?
It's annoying how one-sided everything feels.
You always initiate contact, never the other way around. You bring him gifts, participate in his customs and traditions, and cook for him, only to be met with silence or absence. And yet, you continue to do it all with a forced smile, hoping that one day he'll see your effort and reciprocate.
But the reality is, you don't know how much longer you can keep up this charade of a marriage. From the outside, it's a picture-perfect union, respected by all. But inside, you barely speak to each other and can't stand being in the same room together for more than a few minutes. It's like there's too much space, yet you feel suffocated at the same time.
You expressed how you felt later that day with Kiri, as you always do. She, along with her youngest brother, Lo’ak understood what it was like to feel different from her people—soon to be your people. So it felt right confiding in her, knowing she gets you when your future mate doesn’t make the effort to try.
Kiri sat next to you, intently fixing a necklace for one of the clanmates who had messed up. As she worked, she spoke softly, "That's unlike my brother, I don't understand why he's acting like this towards you." She gave you a sympathetic look before continuing, "I know it's frustrating, but give it some more time."
You couldn't help but let out a frustrated huff, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. "That's all I've been giving. When is enough time enough?" you asked, your voice tinged with annoyance. You knew you weren't exaggerating or imagining things.
Kiri paused her work, considering your words for a moment before offering a suggestion. "Perhaps you need to approach it differently. Focus on yourself, as he focuses on the village. Maybe then he'll realize that he should have been focused on you too."
You looked at her with surprise, not expecting such wise advice from her. As she placed the finished necklace on the low table, you smiled genuinely for once, feeling a glimmer of hope. This was the best advice she had ever given you, and you knew it was time to stop waiting for him to come to you and start putting your own feelings first.
After thanking Kiri and complimenting her handiwork, you left her hut feeling a sense of relief wash over you. The air felt fresher and lighter, as if the weight of your worries had been lifted off your shoulders.
From that moment on, you threw yourself back into your tsakarem training, determined to become a skilled and respected member of the Omaticaya clan. By immersing yourself in their culture and customs, you began to feel a deeper connection to both the people and the land.
This newfound sense of belonging also opened up new opportunities for you to assist with the day-to-day tasks of the tribe, and in return, they offered their guidance and support to help you adjust to your new way of life.
The perfect example would be currently, where you were in your hut crushing herbs that Tuk had brought you after hearing you asking about them. You were actually happy knowing Neteyam’s family were warming up to you. But Neteyam was still distant.
As you crushed the herb, you couldn't help but feel a pang of frustration and hurt. You had heard countless stories about the Omaticaya chief, Neteyam, and his unwavering loyalty and attentiveness to his people. Yet, when it came to you, his soon-to-be mate, he seemed to give you the cold shoulder.
You had tried to make him a priority in your life, but it seemed like he didn't feel the same way. Why did he get to act like he didn't want you while you had to pine after him? It didn't make sense to you, especially since you were in an arranged marriage for the sake of your clans' alliance.
As you were lost in thought, you were startled by the sound of your hut's entrance swooshing open. You looked up to see Aeknim, one of your close friends from your old home, smiling at you. "[Name], I was hoping you were here!" he exclaimed, taking a seat across the low table from you.
“Aeknim, what are you doing here?” You asked, curious about the goofy grin on his face. You haven’t seen him since you left, to come out of the blue must be important.
He chuckled, raising his head high, “I have found a worthy mate.” He proudly said, patting his chest with his right hand for a job well done.
You put down the pestle you were holding and clasped his hands in yours, "That's amazing news, my friend! Tell me all about her." As he shared the details of his new love, you couldn't help but feel happy for him.
Aeknim spent the afternoon telling you all about his new mate while you caught up on old times. You even forgot about your tsakarem training for the day, knowing that there were other healers in the village who could cover for you. One day wouldn’t hurt.
As night fell and it was time for Aeknim to depart, you walked him to the edge of the village to say goodbye. You ignored the curious glances from your fellow villagers as you hugged your friend tightly and bid him farewell, wishing him well on his journey and sending him off with some healing ointment in case he needed it.
When you approached your hut coming back, you noticed Neteyam standing in front of it, his expression inscrutable as he watched you approach with a predatory gaze. You tilted your head up to meet his eyes, wondering what had brought him here.
Without preamble, he demanded, "Who was that?"
Confused, you asked, "Who was who?"
Neteyam inhaled sharply through his nose, his jaw tensing as he closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, they blazed with an intensity that made you take a step back. "The man you were walking around the village with," he said, his voice deeper than usual as he stepped closer to you. He bent his head, allowing a few braids to fall into his face. "That's who I'm talking about."
You recoiled at the sudden change in Neteyam's demeanor. The tension emanating from him was uncomfortable and you couldn't maintain eye contact with him any longer. As you tried to process his words, you looked away.
Aeknim was the man he was referring to, but you couldn't fathom why Neteyam was so bothered by you walking with him. You decided to meet his intense gaze again, but his eyes, usually a bright yellow, were darker and it made you shudder.
"Yes, Aeknim came to visit me," you confirmed, hoping to dispel any misunderstandings.
"He came to see you?" he repeated, furrowing his brow in confusion. He leaned back slightly and asked, "Why did he come to see you?"
You paused for a moment, caught off guard by his sudden interest in your life. You couldn't recall a time when Neteyam cared about what you did or who you spent time with, and it annoyed you that he was being so attentive now.
"Why does that matter to you?" you asked, your tone defensive as you tried to keep the frustration out of your voice. You noticed his tail swishing behind him aggressively, and it only served to make you more uneasy.
Neteyam didn’t like what he was hearing. No, he didn’t like what he was seeing. His mate was defending another male, it made him sick inside and angry… the only male you should be protecting is him.
"You are my mate--" he began, but you cut him off, your ears flattening against your head at his words. You could feel your own anger rising, a fierce determination filling you.
"Yet, I am not your mate yet," you corrected him, standing your ground. You had done nothing wrong, so where was this interrogation coming from? It was almost as if he had lost his mind.
Eywa help him.
Neteyam shook his head, his braids swaying with the movement. "Now and then, you are my mate!" he spat, his face scrunched up in disgust. "Who visits my mate late into the night is my concern. You are my concern."
“You have an interesting way of showing concern for your mate, especially over the last few months,” you retorted, holding back a scoff as you watched confusion flash across Neteyam's face.
“Did you forget? Because I certainly haven't,” you continued, your expression softening slightly as you finally allowed your exhaustion to show.
It had been a constant struggle trying to reach him, and now is the time you choose to feel vulnerable, “You've been distant while I've been trying to connect with you. Not cold, necessarily, but you might as well have been with your absence.”
Neteyam's face softened as realization dawned on him as you continued, “I had to learn how to live here from people other than you. Your family has been around more than you have.” You finished, waiting for a response, but he simply stood there, eyes lowered towards the ground.
This time your scoff freely at him, honestly disappointed. You thought this conversation was getting somewhere, somehow to a point where you can come to some sort of agreement but there he goes again avoiding you.
Having enough of him, you brush pass him to enter the hut, “Of course, you have nothing to say.” You expected him to leave after that, like he does every morning to get away from you but he enters behind you, his expression morphed into determination.
“I have nothing to say,” he started, standing in the doorway, despite his expression, his body betrayed him as he’s slightly hunched over and his ears a deep purple, “because I don’t know how else to act with the one who I’ve already fallen in love with, but haven’t fallen for me yet.”
His words catch you off guard, and you turn to face him fully, shoulders losing its tenseness, “What?” You can’t believe he just said that. He loves you?
“I’ve noticed you more than you noticed me. I know that your actions mean nothing to you, while if I returned them, it would mean everything to me.” He started walking towards you, “I know your feelings you display towards me are not genuine. I know you don’t want to mate with me. I know and still can’t help but fall.” He stops a feet away from you, eyes trailing over your face.
“How can I do those things knowing what it means to me, that you don’t see me like I see you.” He finished, looking you in the eyes. There they were, bright yellow, nothing like the other harsh color. He looked as you expectedly, gentle, yearning and vulnerable.
Your throat tightened with emotion as you gazed up at him. His confession was a shock, but a welcome one. It was as though a veil had been lifted, and you saw him in a new light. Perhaps you had been blind to his feelings, too caught up in your own concerns. Perhaps you had been the one in the wrong all along, insensitive to his emotions, and acting selfishly.
Looking at Neteyam now, you saw a man baring his soul to you. He was hoping for your acceptance and understanding, acknowledging his mistakes and making an effort to set them right. You saw him in a new light: gentle, kind, compassionate, and fierce - just as all the stories said.
How could you have missed this before?
"I had no idea," you said, your voice quivering with emotion as tears welled up in your eyes. "I was so focused on my own desires that I neglected to ask about your true feelings."
Neteyam shook his head, "It was my fault for not showing you how I truly felt. If I had, we wouldn't be in this position now."
You chuckled softly, tilting your head down as you brushed a stray hair behind your ear. "You're right about that," you said, reaching out to take his hand in yours. Bringing it to your chest, you looked up at him with a shy smile. "But it doesn't matter. I see you, Neteyam. All of you."
Neteyam's eyes lit up, a goofy grin spreading across his face. He looked so handsome and carefree, and you couldn't help but think that this was what had been holding him back all this time.
"I see you too, [Name]. I always have," he said, pulling you close to him. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to yours in a long-awaited kiss.
Maybe you can learn to love him, wholeheartedly and authentically.
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Edit: Thank you for all the likes and reblogs! Means a lot ❤️ Helpful hint for reblogs, be sure to add # to be found
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New post : all my life I had to fight, Lo’ak x human! reader
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randxmthxughts · 1 year
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Unrequited Love - Tsu'tey x Omatikaya!Reader
summary: you had been in love with tsu'tey for as long as you could remember. so when you see his heart break again at the loss of another mate, you offer him comfort, expecting nothing in return
genre/warnings: smut!, oral (m receiving), angst, unrequited love
wc: 2k
a/n: this is my first time writing smut, so i hope i didn't screw it up completely. please let me know if there's anything unrealistic or sounds silly (i am a virgin, idk what the hell i'm doing), i'll be glad to change it. also, please don't forget to leave some feedback, replies, whatever you want. i love reading what you have to say, and it always encourages me to write more ♡
masterlist - part 2
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You watch in silence, your focus only on him. As things escalate between Tsu'tey and Jake, people around you begin to gasp and murmur, filling the space with noise. All you want to do is to call out his name, get him out of there. 
It’s obvious to you that his challenge means nothing. He does it to upkeep his reputation, but if he kills Jake, Neytiri will never choose him again. Tsu’tey draws a knife, bending down over Jake’s unconscious body.
“Neytiri was promised to me,” Tsu’tey grabs him by the hair, bringing his knife closer, “This is a demon in a false body. It should not live.”
Neytiri suddenly lunges at Tsu’tey with all her might. She knocks him off his feet and takes a defensive stance over Jake, baring her teeth and knife. You notice Tsu’tey's posture weaken, as he watches his mate claim Jake as her own in front of the whole clan. He knows it’s too late for him to fight, Neytiri and Jake are now mated for life. Your heart aches at the sight of Tsu’tey's bloodied face and the way he spits on the ground before retreating into the forest, disappearing from the crowd.
Desperately, you rush after him, ignoring the noise and commotion breaking around you. It takes some time for you to finally spot his frame, partially hidden between thick bushes, sitting on a rock with his head hanging low in defeat. 
Sylwanin was his first true love. You watched them fall in love while you were still children. Having a crush on somebody who was already claimed was tough on you, but you knew that Sylwanin and Tsu’tey were meant for each other, and you tried very hard to be happy for them.  You remember it as clear as a day when they announced their bond, and the way you cheered for them, joining in on the celebration. But in your heart, you couldn't help but wish for the kind of love that Tsu'tey had for Sylwanin. You prayed to Eywa that she would one day grant you such feeling.
Losing Sylwanin in that tragic accident was devastating already, but being arranged to mate with her sister instead must have been an unbearable burden for Tsu’tey. Your heart shattered into thousands of tiny pieces when you first heard the news, and there was nothing you could do to help. Tsu’tey was a great hunter and warrior, there was no one more deserving of being Olo’eyctan than him. And though he bonded with Neytiri over their shared grief, he knew that he could never love her the same way. When Sylwanin died, a part of him had also died with her. And now, witnessing Tsu’tey lose his mate to another man was agonizing.
“Tsu’tey,” you catch his attention, approaching him.
As if caught in a moment of vulnerability, Tsu’tey sits up straight. You grimace at the blood smeared around his beautiful face, eyes glistening with the threat of tears. Noticing your gaze lingering on him, Tsu’tey hurries to wipe his eyes. Future Olo’eyctan or not, he didn’t like that you saw him like this. Quickly, you reach forward and grasp his wrists, preventing him from hiding his face.
“‘M sorry,” you mumble.
“I’m fine,” he huffs, shaking his hands to free them from yours.
You don’t take offense to his harshness. Growing up, Tsu’tey always had a soft spot for you, but that did not apply during the moments of humiliation. You crouch down in front of him, letting his frame loom over you.
“You shouldn’t have followed me, Y/N,” he says, like it was an order you disobeyed.
You purse your lips, uncertain if Tsu’tey truly means it. Despite being only two years older than you, Tsu’tey still treated you like a child sometimes. Even as a kid, he exuded dominance and strength, his presence alone putting everyone intact. So whenever he saw boys bullying you, Tsu’tey was quick to tell them off. He would then nudge your shoulder, coaxing a smile from you, and consider his job done. But what he failed to recognize, after all these years, is that you never saw him the same way he saw you. Your heart ached every time you looked at him, knowing that he could never be yours, and that his own heart belonged to someone else.
“I don’t want to take out my anger on you,” Tsu’tey’s tone is stern, “You better leave, Y/N.”
“You can take it out on me, I don’t mind,” you say softly, as his eyes widen in confusion.
“I’m not kidding,” he warns you with a low growl.
“Please, let me help you,” you plead with him, resting your palms over his thighs, “I can take it, you don’t have to hold back.”
Tsu’tey rarely heard those words. He was always scolded for being short-tempered, acting out of anger. That those were unsuitable qualities for the future Olo’eyctan. Tsu’tey tried to contain it, but often old habits would slip right back in. He shifted under your touch, gazing at your hands, while his mind went to places where it shouldn’t go. He thought that he was probably reading you wrong, still upset over the fight.
You weren’t sure if this was where you wanted things to head, when you followed him. But right at this moment, you felt like there was nothing else you wanted to do for him. Your heart truly desired to see him relax for a moment, even if it was at the expense of your feelings. As you slowly moved your palms higher on his thighs, Tsu’tey drew in a short breath. He watched you silently until your fingers grazed the edges of his loincloth.
“You don’t have to,” Tsu’tey put his hands over yours, in an attempt to stop you, but all you could feel was the heat radiating off his skin, making your heart race.
“I want to,” you insist, “Let me make you feel good.”
“You know I can never truly devote myself to anyone else but Sylwanin,” his voice drops, and you have to perk your ears to hear him. 
“I know,” you move your fingers to his sides, reaching the ties of his loincloth, “I don’t expect anything in return.”
“Y/N…” Tsu’tey whispers but you shush him.
You notice the way he tries to resist the growing lust, despite longing for it to be satisfied. His mind tells him to walk away but his body doesn’t comply. Would it be so bad for him to get lost in the moment and just let it go? Let himself forget about all of his worries and pretend that he had nothing weighing down on him?
You hesitate before untying his loincloth, waiting for Tsu’tey to stop you, but he doesn’t. As the fabric slides off his sides, revealing his already hard cock, you’re taken aback slightly. Tsu’tey watches your reaction with a hint of shame; he can’t believe he’s already aroused just by the way you undressed him. 
Slowly, you lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his thigh. You hear Tsu’tey’s breath hitch and feel his muscles clench, as you start trailing kisses up his skin. When you reach his balls, you pause. You have never done anything like this before. Sure, you heard girls talk about pleasuring their mates in many ways, but you could only dream about making Tsu’tey happy. It’s scary.
You take a breath before planting wet kisses to his sack, then some more to the base of his member. Instinctively, his penis twitches underneath your lips, and you hear Tsu’tey let out a small moan. Your ears perk up at the sound so pleasant, you wish you could hear it everyday. You’ve never seen this side of Tsu’tey; he was always so stern, so aware of the way he presented himself to others. But here he is now, trembling under your touch, letting his guard down. Feeling braver, you wrap your lips around his sack, sucking in gently. Simultaneously, your fingers find their way around his penis, giving it a light squeeze.
“Tsahey,” he grunts through his teeth.
The sounds he makes are so satisfying, you feel heat rush to your cunt. You try to ignore the growing sensation, as you press your tongue flat against his shaft, and follow along a prominent vein. Tsu’tey’s grabs the back of your neck, bringing your face closer, ordering for more. You had no idea that you were unintentionally teasing him, making him impatient.
Getting his hint, you take the tip of his penis into your mouth, your tongue occasionally grazing the top, as you suck on it. You let the saliva drip out of your mouth and smear it over his shaft with your hand, beginning to draw small motions up and down, your mouth still working. 
“Take it all in,” Tsu’tey grunts, “Please.”
Tsu’tey had never sounded as desperate as he did right now. To please him, you lean in, trying to take his whole penis into your mouth. It was your best attempt, given how big he was, and feeling the tip press against the back of your throat. It tickles your skin like an annoying scratch you want to tend to. As you lose the rhythm of your breathing, suddenly feeling overwhelmed, you pull away. Instead, you work your hand up and down his penis, now completely covered in your saliva. You massage his balls with your other hand, and when you hear Tsu’tey draw in another short breath, your walls painfully clench around nothing. You push your thighs together, trying not to get distracted by your own desire.
As you pick up a rhythm with your hand, Tsu’tey’s muscles are clenching and relaxing at every movement. He starts to grow impatient, wishing to feel the inside of your mouth again, and reaches out to direct his penis into your mouth. You take him in.
“Tsahey,” he grunts again, then lets out a soft moan when you swirl your tongue around him.
Tsu’tey suddenly stands up, forcing you to sit up higher on your knees. This new position now allows him to slide his full length into you, tickling your throat and almost making you gag. Tears prick up at the corner of your eyes, as he starts jerking his hips forward in small, quick motions. To hold you in place, Tsu’tey grabs you by your hair, and starts speeding up, thrusting into you more violently. When he tugs at your queue, you let out a small whimper.
Distracted by the sound you just made, Tsu’tey slows down, locking his eyes on yours.
“Will you be alright?” he asks, his breath shaky. You suck on him as a sign of approval, “I just need a moment, I'm almost there."
Tsu’tey grips the back of your neck, and picks up the speed of his thrusts again, hitting the back of your throat with a new force. He is going harder on you, desperately chasing the wave of pleasure. Your mouth felt so warm, so soft around him, cheeks sucking and pressing against his length. The tears in your eyes turn your vision blurry, and you try to blink them away, to watch his face. He looks so beautiful.
Suddenly, you feel his member clench, and Tsu’tey pushes into you a few more times. His movements become sloppier, and when a loud groan escapes from his lips, you feel warm bitter liquid filling out your mouth.
“Mawey,” he whispers, his lids heavy, as he pulls out. 
He presses his fingers against your chin, lifting your head just enough to encourage you to swallow. You gulp down, maintaining eye contact, and Tsu’tey hums with a smile, satisfied. Your cunt clenches painfully, pleading for attention, and you squeeze your thighs again, trying to calm yourself down. 
Tsu’tey notices it immediately, eyes now lingering on your loincloth. You look away, embarrassed to get caught by him, and wipe your mouth.
“Thank you, Y/N,” he says, still standing bare in front of you.
It’s awkward, you don’t know how to behave now. You stand up, still not meeting his eyes.
“Feel a little better now?” you ask softly.
“Much better,” Tsu’tey places his fingers under your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes, “Do you want me to help you with that?”
Your cunt clenches again, when his gaze trails down your body. You feel heat rush to your face at the mere thought of Tsu'tey pleasuring you. But you’re too flustered, you’re not sure you can endure it. 
“No, this is not about me,” you shake your head, “I wanted to make you feel better because you didn’t deserve what happened.”
“I must be a fool,” Tsu’tey admits with a guilty sigh, “I never thought that you... that there was something.”
“I know you hadn’t,” you dismiss the way his eyes burn into yours.
“You deserve someone better. Who is not as broken as me,” his hand cups your cheek to offer you comfort.
“Please don’t,” you pull away, interrupting him before he can pity you, “I know you don’t feel the same, Tsu’tey, it’s alright.”
You force a small smile, blinking away the tears in your eyes. The moment between you is fleeting, but it weighs heavy on your heart. You know that he can never love you.
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part 2
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may-fanfic · 9 months
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Fine Line Between Love And Hatred
summary: The tragic events that unfolded in Woodsboro claimed more than just the lives of your fellow classmates.
warnings: mentions of death, drinking, blood, arguing, breakup, angst
word count: 1,348
((feel free to send in any request you may have 💕))
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A soft hand met your wrist just before your fingers could graze the cold metal of the door handle. "Where are you going?" Her delicate voice spoke over the noisy music that boomed through the home. Looking over your shoulder, you spotted the brown-haired woman; her eyebrows fluttered in question, causing a dopey smile to form on your lips. "Home!' you called out; you knew she'd protest walking late at night was dangerous enough, and now with the fear of Ghostface's return, it made it even more risky. "You know you can't go alone." The hold around your wrist was tight but gentle, as if she feared loosening her grip would cause you to bolt.
"Why's that, Tara?" Raising a playful eyebrow, the smirk on your lips as prominent as her fear. You inched closer to her, stumbling over your feet as you did so. "You're drunk, Number 1!" You could roll your eyes at her remark, but you knew you were in no position to oppose; you were drunk, after all. "Number 2," She began warily, snapping her gaze away from yours, flipping your wrist around so your scar faced the two of you. "This." She reasoned, gently stroking the raised skin, the painful reminder of your near demise; she wondered how the one on your ribcage healed.
Tara was surprised when you unexpectedly snapped your hand out of hers; the tender moment disrupted entirely. "Don't! Don't do that." You pointed a finger, an uncontrollable frown now playing on your painted lips. The party felt unbearable at that moment; the music was too loud, the house too crowded, so without a final word, you turned and headed for the door, ignoring her pleas for you to stay with her.
Your head spun, and you wondered if it had simply been the drinks finally catching up to you; stepping into the cold night air was soothing, and despite shivering with each step you took, it was better than spending another second at the party.
You didn't make it far before the same gentle hand wrapped itself around your cold fingers, bringing them in for a warm embrace. You hated looking at Tara; you loathed being touched by her. She'd been nothing more than a reminder of the summer you wanted to forget. It pained you, however, because you did love the woman. "Can't you ever just leave me alone?" You shouted out into the quiet streets, there'd been a few stray people from the party, and Tara was aware of their looks, shyly glancing around to avoid your eyes.
She hadn't let go of your hand. Instead, she stroked her thumb against your reddened fingertips, and you wanted her to let go so badly, but you couldn't say so, not when it was something you craved so dearly. You hated how she looked, like a puppy who'd just gotten scolded, and you wanted to engulf her in a tight hug and apologize to her, but then, your mind filled with the night of your attack.
You could see glimpses of her soft, loving hands painted red with your thick blood, the same puppy-like expression on her face; you could still hear the desperate cries you let out as she whispered reassuringly to you. You realized now that no matter how badly you wanted it to be the same, it simply couldn't be. The love you shared was pure and beautiful, something you were aware you'd never find again, but it was so incredibly tainted now. You wished you could've preserved it. Tara still couldn't make sense of the breakup; none of your friends could; she never dared to question you.
Her eyes finally met yours; a worn-out, tired expression replaced her usual cheerful one. "It's dangerous." She stated plainly; her voice lacked emotion, but her eyes held so much, you knew if you stared into them long enough, you'd see everything. "How? Because there's a slight chance Ghostface is back?" You had no reason to be yelling. Tara had been nothing but calm with you. You stepped closer to her; she could smell the alcohol entangled in your breath. "You know what, Tar? If he's back, I hope he kills me this time." Your voice was suddenly so quiet, so sincere; it made Tara flinch. "You should've let me die because anything is better than this." She shook her head lightly; her breathing felt so much heavier.
"You're drunk; you don't mean that; come on, let's just go back-" She tried to drag you back inside, she told herself she wouldn't let you leave, but you'd been glued to your place, unwilling to move an inch. "I'm going home."
Her jaw clenched, eyes fluttered closed before a disbelief laugh slipped past her lips. She dropped your fingers, tucking her hands together behind her back. "You're so selfish. Do you know how fucking selfish you're being?" Her voice broke; shouting had never been her strong suit.
"Do you think it only happened to you?" She shook her head, faint tears clouded her brown eyes, but she blinked them away quickly. "It wasn't just you! You seem to forget that; you chose to go through it alone." Her shoulders dropped suddenly, letting out an unsteady breath.
"I loved you! I do! And you just forced me away; you left me! Why?" She'd been talking too much, too fast, and you wished you'd stayed inside, called for someone to pick you up instead because now you were faced with this; it was something you hoped to avoid forever. "I needed you!" It was heartbreaking, the sound of her voice, the slight tremble.
"Oh, give me a fucking break." You muttered, brushing your cold hands along your burning face; it soothed you, but it hadn't stopped the shake in your body. "Every day, I thought about you, I still do, and it seems like I am the furthest thing from your mind. I'm not even a passing thought!" She continued, but you needed her to stop; you would've begged her to stop. "You talk to Mindy, Chad, Sam! Even fucking Sam! But me? You're girlfriend; you couldn't even look at me; Why?" She'd been so close to breaking; her face contoured into a deep frown, the whites in her eyes bright red. There was nothing you could say to save her feelings; you knew that, no matter how badly you wanted to try.
"Looking at you made me sick, Tara." You'd been too calm as you spoke, and Tara wished you could've yelled it at her instead; it would've hurt less. "With you, I remember everything I don't wanna remember. You don't know how sorry I am that I hurt you." You hated the way the tears damped her face as you spoke.
The two of you became deflated; it was clear that Ghostface won, you could laugh at the irony. It made no sense yelling anymore; you'd both been exhausted. "I'm sorry." She breathed, trying to pull her lips into a straight line, but it seemed to quiver right back into the frown. She toyed with her fingers now, keeping her gaze low.
You hesitated before you reached out, something you hadn't done in months, softly brushing aside the fringe she'd cut into her hair. Her watery eyes snapped up at you; she could melt into you if she hadn't stopped herself. Your thumb stroked the soft flesh on her cheeks, brushing away the warm tears. "I can't let you walk home." Her voice had been small, eyes searching yours, hoping you could give up your fight. "Mindy would kill me." She continued; it seemed to be her distraction as if you hadn't been so close, caressing her face the way she missed.
Focusing on the soft skin under your cold fingertips, you merely nodded. Tara offered a painful smile, leaning her face into the hand placed on her warmed cheek, pressing a quick kiss to the palm of it, and overlapping her hand with yours.
It was clear that underneath all the ugly, the good was still there; you were sure you'd spend the rest of your life regretting running away.
((reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated))
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ponyosmom35 · 5 months
Text
family
Simon Ghost Riley x reader
Liability chapter thirty
synopsis: simon is meeting readers family for the first time. he's been keeping a secret from her, worried about how she might react.
warnings: angst, mentions of death, mentions of PTSD
Liability series:
https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share
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He hasn’t done a good job of keeping his nerves under control. He wipes his sweaty palms on his pants for the third time as his mind goes over everything that could possibly go wrong. The idea of meeting her family terrifies him. What if they don’t like him? What if he doesn’t like them? He knew a lot about her childhood and how she always felt that Emma was prioritized, he’d seen first hand how it affected her to this day. Of course he’d been told how close the family had become after the tragic passing of the eldest daughter. He was happy they were able to resolve their differences and come together. 
Above all he was well aware that a massive secret he’d kept from her was about to come out. His stomach rolled at the thought, he felt as though he could throw up. The truth was that tonights dinner would not be the first time he’d met her parents. After Emma died, Simon and Price flew to the states and presented her family with an American flag, and sat down with them to explain what happened. This was something he’d done in the past, however it being her older sister made the task nearly unbearable. But he knew it was his responsibility. He was terrified that her parents were going to hate him due to his face being there to tell them their daughter was dead. The worst day of their lives, and he was the face of the person who ruined their family. Simon had no idea how she would react. Would she be upset at him for keeping this from her? Would it bring up the past and trigger her PTSD? 
He’d tried to cancel, but he could only use so many excuses. He knew that this needed to happen. He couldn't avoid her family for the rest of their lives, especially when he planned to spend the rest of his life with her. 
She notices his unease after she looks over at him to sing along to one of their favorite songs. She frowns as she could see the anxiety coming from him. She reaches to his hand which was placed on the gear shift and rubs his skin gently. 
He instantly relaxes when he feels her touch. Her warmth, her tenderness, is just what he needed to calm down and remember that things will be fine. As he focuses on her and their journey he feels a sense of relief wash over him. 
“They’re gonna love you” she promises 
He sighs, this time feeling much better about things. He turns his head and looks at her with a smile. “You really think so?”
“I know so”
“What if I say the wrong thing?” 
“You won’t”
“If they ask about work?”
“They know how we met, they aren’t aware of the details obviously but they know that you worked with me on base, and they know that the rest is classified. Why are you so worried about this? Simon they already love you” 
“How do you know?”
“Because I’ve been talking about you nonstop for the past year, they are well aware how much I love you” she explains. 
He leans in close to her as he stops at a red light. He presses his lips to her forehead and closes his eyes. “Thank you baby”
“It’s just this house on the right” she points out, he pulls into the driveway and turns of the ignition, staring at her. 
“I have something to tell you” he admits 
“What?”
“This isn’t the first time-”
“There she is!” her mother calls out from the porch, she runs over to the passenger side door and opens it, welcoming her daughter in a hug. 
Simon gets out of the truck and walks to where they were standing. He bows his head slightly as her father embraces her. She turns to introduce him to her parents when she notices their wide eyes staring at him. Her mother begins to tear up and she frowns. 
“Mom? whats wrong?” she asks in concern 
“Simon, I’m so happy to see you again” she says placing a gentle hand on his face, he smiles and she hugs him. Her mouth falls open in shock and she tries to comprehend what she was seeing. 
“Been too long son, how are you?” her dad says, grabbing his hand and shaking it. 
“Been well mate”
“I’m sorry, does anyone wanna tell me how you know each other?” she asks 
“He didn’ tell you?” her mom asks as she pulls away from him
“Tell me what?” she asks, turning to him.
“Price and I brought the flag home to your parents after Emma” he admits 
“What?” she asks 
“Honey he’s been sending flowers every month for the grave” her mom adds 
“You have?” she asks looking up at him with tears filling her eyes as her lips begin to tremble. Simon internally panics and places a hand on her shoulder. 
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you”
“Why did you do that?”
“For Emma” he answers
She is unable to hold back her tears and he gently wipes them, holding her jaw in his hands. “I’m sorry love”
“Thank you for taking care of her” she answers 
“Always” 
She looks over to her mother who’s wiping her tears as well. Simon wraps his arm around her and kisses her forehead. 
“Now that I’ve made everyone cry, should we get inside?” he asks. The three broken hearted family members laugh and lead him inside the house. 
“Simon I made fish and chips, fresh halibut from our trip this morning” her dad states, wrapping his arm around Simon’s shoulder.
“Sounds delicious mate”
“Well we wanted to treat you, y/n mentioned that it was your favorite meal” 
“Thank you guys”
“Its the least we could do, thank you for taking such good care of our daughters. We’re so lucky to have you in the family” her mom says as she leads them into the kitchen. 
Simon pauses at the words, he smiles and swallows the lump in his throat. Family. A word he’d tried to hard to run from. A word that used to tear him to pieces. He swore to himself he’d never allow people to get close to him in order to prevent a similar fate to his family. He tried to fight it. But after a while he realized that the only thing he was protecting himself from was love. He’d been so miserable before she came into his life, he was a walking corpse. Living for the job and the violence. 
Now Simon Ghost Riley was sat at the dinner table with the woman he loved and her parents. This was his family. He would never let anything happen to them.
Tag list:@vivi123abc
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ajaxwfe · 7 months
Text
Unrequited Petals: A Tale of Love and Loss
Diluc x Reader
"When y/n falls in love with their dear friend Diluc, they must grapple with the knowledge that their affection can never be reciprocated. As the hanahaki disease takes hold, their love remains unspoken, leading to tragic consequences.
Content Warning: This story contains themes of unrequited love, severe illness, emotional distress, and loss.
Genre: angst with no fluff.
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I never meant for it to happen. Falling in love was the last thing I wanted, especially with someone who could never return my feelings. But the heart has a way of betraying reason, and so I found myself entangled in a love I could never have.
His name was Diluc, and from the moment I laid eyes on him, I was captivated. He had a smile that could brighten the darkest of days, and a laugh that was like music to my ears. We became friends, and I treasured every moment we spent together.
But as days turned into weeks and weeks into months, I couldn't deny the truth any longer. I was deeply in love with Diluc, and there was no hope of ever being with him. He had his eyes set on someone else, someone who could give him the love he deserved. I couldn't compete with that.
As the weight of my unrequited love pressed down on me, I began to notice the first signs of the hanahaki disease. It started with a persistent cough, a nagging reminder of the love I could never have. Then came the flowers, delicate petals of blue forget-me-nots, blooming in my lungs and throat. Every cough brought forth a small bouquet, a painful reminder of my unrequited love.
I tried to hide my affliction, to keep my feelings a secret. But Diluc, being the caring friend he was, noticed my worsening condition. He urged me to see a doctor, worried about my health. I couldn't bear to tell him the truth, to burden him with the knowledge of my love for him.
One evening, as we sat in his cozy apartment, he looked at me with concern and said, "You've been coughing a lot lately, more than usual. Are you sure you're okay? You should see a doctor."
I looked down, struggling to find the words, and finally, I admitted, "Diluc, there's something I need to tell you. I've been hiding something, and it's not a simple illness. I... I'm in love with you."
Diluc's expression softened, and he sighed. "I knew," he said quietly. "I've known for a while, but I didn't want to hurt you by rejecting you. You're a dear friend, and I care about you deeply. But my heart belongs to someone else, and I can't change that."
Tears welled up in my eyes, and I nodded, my heart heavy with the knowledge that my love could never be returned. "I understand, Diluc. I just couldn't keep it a secret any longer. It's been tearing me apart."
I continued to suffer in silence, allowing the hanahaki disease to take its toll. Days turned into weeks, and my condition worsened. Diluc grew increasingly concerned, watching me suffer silently. He couldn't bear to see me in pain, and he desperately searched for a way to help.
One fateful day, my pain became unbearable, and I collapsed in front of Diluc. As I lay there, gasping for breath, he frantically called for help. Jean, a close friend of ours and a skilled healer, rushed to my side. She did her best to ease my pain, but it was too late.
In my final moments, I gazed into Diluc's eyes, and with my last breath, I whispered, "I love you."
Tears streamed down Diluc's face as I passed away in his arms, the hanahaki disease finally taking its toll on my fragile heart. Jean, with tears in her eyes, gently placed a hand on Diluc's shoulder and said, "Diluc, there's something you need to know. She had the hanahaki disease because of her love for you."
Diluc's heart shattered as he realized the depth of my love and the pain I had endured. He wept for the love he could never return and for the friend he had lost. The anguish of the unrequited love and the guilt of not being able to save me weighed heavily on his soul.
In the end, my unrequited love for Diluc had cost me my life, and it had left him with a heart heavy with sorrow and regret. Love is a beautiful and painful thing, and sometimes, it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. My love for Diluc, though unrequited, had changed both of our lives forever, leaving behind a haunting memory of what could never be.
---
Months had passed since that heart-wrenching day when she had breathed her last breath in his arms. The pain of losing her still weighed heavily on Diluc's heart, a constant reminder of the love he could never return. He couldn't shake the feeling of guilt and sorrow that had settled over him like a dark cloud.
On a somber, overcast day, with a bouquet of blue forget-me-nots in hand, Diluc made his way to the quiet cemetery where she was laid to rest. The wind whispered through the trees, and the air was heavy with a sense of grief.
Standing before her grave, he kneeled down, placing the flowers gently on her tombstone. As he traced her name with his fingers, a bitter taste of regret filled his mouth. He whispered, his voice choked with emotion, "I'm so sorry. I wish I could have loved you the way you deserved. I wish I could have saved you."
The silence of the graveyard seemed to echo his pain, and tears welled up in his eyes. He couldn't help but imagine the suffering she had endured because of her unrequited love for him. The thought haunted him.
Diluc's heart ached as he stayed there, as if he could somehow reach out to her, to tell her how deeply he regretted not being able to return her love. He wished he could have been a better friend and prevented her suffering.
As the rain began to fall, mingling with his tears, Diluc stayed by her grave, the weight of his unrequited love and the anguish of her loss consuming him. In that moment, he realized that some regrets could never be eased, and some love stories could only end in pain and sorrow.
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izvmimi · 1 year
Text
cw: angst. third person pov reader.
“You’re awful, you know that, right?”
Izuku usually smiles when she says this to him, as she has so many times before, because it’s usually in jest, accompanied by a cheeky smile, perhaps also by her elbowing him in the ribs. He’d shift and bump her back, making sure to reach an arm out to catch her if she stumbled. It was always excessive, but he’d never let her fall. 
At least not in his sight.
Today is different. Today, instead, Izuku says nothing, and her whispered accusation goes unanswered. Her voice is soft, but the gravity of her words feels like an insurmountable weight on her shoulders, perhaps enough to shatter her bones.
She swallows but with a throat so dry it feels like sandpaper. It occurs to her for a moment that she doesn’t remember her last meal or the last time she drank anything, and yet this unloading of her feelings is far more important than filling her stomach.
“You could have left me alone,” she finally chokes out.
He could have, and he should have. Yes, there was a time that she wanted him more than anything else on this earth, and perhaps that is true even now, but what did that bring her? A pain that she would wish on no one, something that she wouldn’t have imagined was within the realm of human experience, something intangible but so unbearably real.
He should have left her alone.
Izuku still doesn’t answer, but she can imagine him, in a world where he had made a better decision for them and not just for him and his dreams and the world, saying something to the effect of -
Wouldn’t you have been lonely?
He would have been right then, and yet she is still lonely now despite this best efforts, and this version of loneliness is amplified a hundredfold.
Is it more tragic to have known warmth before being thrust into the cold anew?
“... Or just loved someone else.”
Someone different, someone strong enough to understand him the way he is.
She can practically hear his voice, even though he’s not speaking.
There’s no one else I want, sweetheart.
She clenches her teeth.
“You selfish bastard.”
But he’s not. He’s far from selfish. The 1% of him that knew selfishness was just the one that was willing to wound her. Everything else that comprised him - the selflessness, the kindness, the determination that practically dripped from his skin was so real, real enough to have led to this very moment.
“I hate you so much.” 
She shouldn’t lie to the dead.
But she’d spent enough time pretending to be strong from ceremony to ceremony, controlling her tears and her breathing the entire time. How mournful is she allowed to be? He died a Hero, and that’s all he had wanted. 
To be immortalized as the greatest one who ever lived. 
She’s not allowed to hold that against him, is she? There’s a gentle titration of anger, of sadness, of bereavement, of righteousness required to be a perfect widow.
A Hero’s widow. A Hero herself.
“You should have been all the way selfless. You half-assed it.”
Her voice is harsher now and bile rises in her throat. There’s nothing close to vomit in, only his burial urn, set on the shelf, taunting her in its cruel beauty. It doesn’t even have all of him. Even in death, she never had all of him. 
Her hands shake at her sides.
“How dare you love me?”
Dead bodies can’t defend themselves and regardless, there will never be an answer good enough for her.
Tears cloud her vision and she sinks, bringing the ashes with her, cradling the urn in her lap as she weeps. He was always the one to hold her when she cried, and now it’s the other way around. How ironic it is, for such a large presence to be reduced to a small vase, no larger than a baby.
“I wasn’t finished loving you back.”
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animentality · 1 year
Note
heyheyhey idk if u know how cool and important it is to have a badass assassin story with something other than cis gays and have it be Not a Big Deal but,,, it’s literally one of the first legit published books I’ve ever found like it?? And in a genre that I love??? And written well?? And genuinely funny as fuck?? Idk I’ve never seen an enby that gets to exist without it being A Tragic Plot Point or something To Overcome so thank u??? Like so much???? I can’t tell u how much???? I definitely didn’t cry at all about it nope not even once
:DDDDDD omg, my heart started pumping faster when I saw this ask. I am always so giddy when people talk to me about my books, especially the specifics about characters and tone and things they liked!
Yeah, I wanted to include every goddamn color in the pride flag!!
Pansexual/ bisexual assassins, nonbinary demons, a transgender assassin, an unrealistic number of gay and lesbian demon summoners! That's my fantasy world. It's not talked about, because it's simply normal.
Irvine in particular I adore because I am nonbinary myself, but also because they are just so powerful, and they don't even know just how much yet!
I always disliked how many nonbinary characters in fantasy and sci fi are just token "they/them" body guards, robotic or asexual leaning non-humans, or quiet, unassuming love interests who only exist to show a character is pansexual or something.
Irvine was my love letter to my own identity because I thought hey what if there was a nonbinary character who just fucks shit up, every time they appear? What if there was an enby who just kicks ass and is sexily never showing their face, and wears a badass hood all the time?
And then Irvine was born. My little storm demon :)
Also, I don't know if you ever saw the commissioned art, but I will post it in this ask for your viewing pleasure:
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so glad you love my child. my baby blorbo.
who i intend to put through the wringer, lemme tell you, because i like to put all my favorite characters through it.
So glad you find it unique too! I honestly was feeling so badly about it, after months of querying and beta swapping, and getting feedback from dozens of people who only found things to criticize as being too strange or too different or stylistically confusing.
I went through a year of being told it wasn't good, and-and I'm a little emotional and overcome with appreciation and gratitude to all the people who not only bought or downloaded the book while it was free, but who also actually read the whole thing, and found it GOOD.
Like people...think i...write well??? oh gosh. oh god.
chills.
The asks I get keep me going through this mundane, dull little world. They give me something to look forward to, in between the doldrums of normalcy...
They also validate me for thinking someone...someone out there must find this good...
Thanks for taking the time to send this ask :))) it means the world to me.
I save them all in my drafts so I can look at them when I'm sad...
Also, THANK YOU FOR NOTICING THAT THE BOOK IS FUNNY.
in between the angst and the action and the blood-filled fist fighting and crazy sniper/melee battles, there is a lot of dark comedy!
I love dark comedy. I love satire.
As much as I love being edgy, I think a story without any humor at all is unbearable.
I want you to hurt with my characters...but you should also laugh with them! Laugh at them! Be amused by their stupidity...or by their cleverness.
Be charmed by their vulnerability, but also their insane, abnormal, bizarre points of view!
AAAAH, I'm so glad you found it funny AND heart-breaking!
That is exactly what I want every story of mine to be.
Thank you thank you thank you for this ask!!
Link to referenced book here, for all the poor spectators who have to see me blubbering like a child.
Please leave a review on Amazon/Goodreads if you haven't already, but if you have, thank you for that too! Every review helps me out so much!
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filmofhybe · 5 months
Text
The perfect blend - YJW
part 3 of “IN EVERY MULTIVERSE”
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In which..
can you ever imagine in this multiverse, you having the biggest fattest crush on your best friend - Yang jungwon, however knowing he already has a “girlfriend” hurts more than just a sting from a bee.
💌 PAIRING : yjw x reader
GENRE : friends to lovers , fluff
WARNING : angst , fluff , kissing , CHAPTER 2 NOT PROOF-READ!!
🗯️ FEATURING : huh yunjin - LE SSERAFIM
word count : 2,066
MASTERLIST to “IN EVERY MULTIVERSE”.
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I strolled into the cozy book café, the familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee enveloping me. Jungwon, my best friend and crush, was already there, immersed in a book. With a grin, he looked up and waved me over, marking the beginning of another one of our countless hangouts. “Y/n! Quick I’m on the next book already!” He cheered causing the owner to shush him up. I giggles as I quickly walked towards him ans sit beside him
As we spent hours laughing, discussing literature, and losing ourselves in the melodies of shared playlists, the warm atmosphere making his features and his personality stand out. I found my heart entwining with his in the multiverse we were building together within those walls. The atmosphere crackled with unspoken emotions, creating a bond that transcended the pages of the novels surrounding us. That was 2 weeks ago.
“Yah Jungwon why aren’t you joining my hang outs anymore?” I said with a annoyed tone, yet I was joking around. “Is nothing y/n just school okay? I’ll hangout with you soon.” And before I could reply, he hang out. I sighed, disappointedly walking towards the closet and picking out a outfit a planned out for other next reunion. I guess I’ll just wear it today to return to our sanctuary, hoping to catch him at our usual spot.
To my dismay, as I pushed open the café door, I witnessed Jungwon passionately kissing a girl in the corner we had claimed as ours. The world crumbled beneath my feet as I grappled with the realization that our connection might have existed only in my dreams. Heartache and confusion overwhelmed me. Confusion spread across my face. “Y/nnie~ your here!” My hearing was blurred in that heartbreaking moment, I felt like a character in a tragic novel, betrayed by the person I thought knew me best. The emotions were so vivid that it became unbearable. Just as the pain peaked, I snapped out of the dream, gasping for air. Tears streaming down my face.
“Y/n wait please let me explai-” pushing the café door, rain mixed with my salty tears. The café that was once filled with love and warmth, was now just a feeling of coldness and bittersweet memories. Feeling the world absolutely crumbling beneath my feet-
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“Fuck omg…” i jumped, snapping out of my crazy multiverse that felt a bit too real. Realizing I’m in my boyfriend - jungwon’s arm calmed me down. “Hey baby you alright? A bad dream again?” The word “again” felt like a knife to my heart. How many times have that multiverse must torture my thoughts. As we lay there, I couldn't shake off the echoes of the dream. The emotions lingered, haunting me like shadows from an alternate reality. It made me appreciate the tangible moments with Jungwon even more, cherishing the genuine connection we had built together. His hands softly massage my hair as he tries to calm me down by whispering sweet nothings. “Is okay if you don’t want to tell me but I wish I could beat those demons and monster in your dreams.” I don’t think you want to beat yourself up… “maybe a little date to your café would work?” He asked. Not sure would I really want to go after the so called dream. I just nodded as we held each others hands, walking towards the café that’s filled with bad memories in our next universe.
The book café remained our haven, but now with an added layer of vulnerability. We continued to share laughter and music, our bond deepening with each passing day. The dream served as a reminder of the fragility of emotions, urging me to embrace the reality of our connection.
I know he knows something was off the moment I step inside the café. I didn’t bother to read our normal series nor even listen to the music we always dance to. I just sat there thinking, I know he would not do such a thing in this life. But it scares me. And for what?
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jungwon’s multiverse POV
I couldn't shake off the feeling of guilt that settled in my chest every time he canceled plans with y/n. The temptation to see the mysterious girl from school, whose name I had heard whispered in hushed tones, proved to be too strong. Me and y/n’s café, tucked away in a quiet corner, became our secret haven.
I grappled with the conflict between my feelings for y/n and the magnetic pull I felt toward the enigmatic girl from school. The thrill of secret meetings with her overshadowed his sense of responsibility. Despite the guilt gnawing at him,I found himself canceling hangouts with y/n more often, weaving a web of lies to conceal his true motives.
“jungwon should we hang out again today?”
“I’m sorry I can’t y/n..”
“You never hang out with me anymore.”
“I will next time ok?”
“Fine..”
One day, I met up with the girl, at the café, sharing a stolen moment in our café, we both leaning in, her arms around my neck, pulling me closer to her as our lips connect like a perfect puzzle. I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. The café owner's excited voice echoed through the air, calling out a familiar name. "Y/N!" The realization hit me like a tidal wave as I turned his head towards the entrance, only to find Y/N standing there, eyes filled with tears.
In the most beautiful outfit I had ever seen her wear, she looked like a vision. Panic set in as I tried to explain, don’t know how to explain to her, why he kept canceling their hang outs, why he decided to take another person to their secret hang out spot. "No, Y/N, it's not what you think it is." But the words hung in the air, too late to catch her as she ran out, leaving me helpless in my remorse.
Desperation fueled my actions as I attempted to reach her, but before my fingertips could brush against her, I felt the world breaking down below my feet.
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The bustling café faded away, and Jungwon found himself in y/n’s arms, realizing that this vivid scenario was just a cruel illusion. Relief washed over him, and he embraced the solitude, grateful that y/n was in his this reality.
The weight of the dream lingered, prompting Jungwon to reassess his priorities. The guilt he felt was a stark reminder of the potential consequences of his actions. Determined to make amends, he resolved to be honest with Y/N and prioritize their relationship.
“Hey you alright? You slept for like 45 minutes while reading the book.” She chuckled.. the girl that makes him cold Just by his laugh.”
“Yeah I’m fine baby. I’m sorry I fell asleep…” he sighed rubbing his eyes
“No is okay, maybe we should go home now.” Grabbing his hand, and pulling him out of the store. Jungwon felt lucky to be able to have his arms around his beautiful girlfriend in this universe. He made a conscious effort to be present for y/n. In this reality, y/n and Jungwon's bond strengthened, proving that sometimes, even in the face of temptation and mistakes, true love can prevail. Jungwon, grateful for the second chance, cherished every moment with her. ensuring that their story unfolded authentically, free from the shadows of secrecy that once threatened to tear them apart.
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; AUTHORS NOTE : omg part 3?!? We are almost coming to the end of jungwon’s series!! (2 more to go!! I’ll be posting twice a week soon🤭)
series taglist : @enhaz1 @dubuii @in-somnias-world @ultimatestayandminoronce @yenqa @euncsace @hoondiors @yannew @mrchweeee @ariadores @oldjws @frukkoneeeeg @dimplewonie @seobstarr @asteria-wood (white = i cant tag)
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ysljoon · 8 months
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Whumptober Day 6-Simon 'Ghost' Riley
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✲Prompt: “It should have been me.”
✲Warnings: angst, death, car crash, feelings of grief
✲a/n: im having so much fun with whumptober so far buuuuut i think i gotta slow down with the posting after this week its getting really draining to post every day. its not set in stone, but we'll see this is just a heads up that if you see my posts slow down you know why
✲MINORS DNI (have your age in your bio or you're getting blocked)
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The days have been devoid of color since your death. It’s been four months since your tragic passing. It was so unexpected. You were on your way home from work and had Simon on speakerphone as you were driving. You were just droning on about your day at work telling him that nothing spectacular or out of the ordinary had happened. He was half listening as he was folding up a fresh load of laundry that was still warm from the dryer. You were less than six minutes away from your home until a car suddenly shot out into the road and despite your fast reflexes you couldn’t brake in time and the two cars collided. Simon heard the commotion and felt his blood run cold. He shouted your name hoping that he would hear your voice call out to him, but it was nothing. He heard the clamor of other people’s voices on the phone, but none of theirs was yours. 
He flung down the clothes, grabbed his keys and sprinted out the door. His eyes quickly scanned the screen of his phone trying to pinpoint your location and started to drive. He was thankful you weren’t too far from home and was able to reach your location in no time. He dissociated the entire ride. He was out of it and just needed to see your face to snap back into reality. The road was already surrounded by police cars and ambulances and the sirens were just a dull buzz in Simon’s ears. None of this was making sense for him. He rushed over to the closest officer to see if he could get any insight on how you were. 
“My wife is in this crash! I need to see her and make sure she’s okay. She drives the silver sedan!” The officer jumped when he turned around and saw Simon’s hulking figure and heard his loud and abrasive voice. “Sir, you need to stand back. Once we retrieve your wife from the wreckage we’ll be able to tell you on how to proceed.” Simon was anxiously waiting trying not to make this harder than it needed to be. He saw the paramedics bring out a gurney towards the car you drove and once he saw your limp and bloody body he lost all control. He sprinted towards the ambulance that you were put in, but the paramedics closed the doors before he could get a better glance at you. 
“Please I need to see my wife let me in!” One of the stockier-built men stepped up to Simon to put space between him and the other paramedics just in case they thought Simon was about to lash out. “Sir we’re taking her to the nearest emergency hospital 3 miles from here but we need to leave now if we want her to have any chance of survival. She needs to be put into surgery now. Just follow the truck and you can wait in the waiting room.” Simon nodded and said nothing in response as he jumped into his car and trailed the ambulance that swerved through traffic with its sirens blaring.
Simon couldn’t relax in the waiting room. This was the only time he’d ever felt so wound up in his life. His feet incessantly tapped the linoleum tile and his hands gripped the edge of the leather seat until his knuckles were white and his veins popped out. He knew your surgery was going to be a while after suffering such a traumatic injury and he would wait lifetimes if that meant that you were going to be okay, but the minutes felt like they were dragging on and it was starting to feel unbearable.  
“Mr. Riley?” His head shot up as he had a doctor's request for him. He stood up and followed the doctor into the hallway. He noticed that the doctor’s facial expression was hard to read, but he tried not to panic. “Sir, I am so sorry to say that the surgery was not a success. Your wife had multiple bones broken and there was too much blood loss despite giving a blood transfusion. Her body went into shock and we could not bring her back.” Simon’s ears were ringing and his body was trembling. He was stuck in place. He couldn’t even process the grief. Everything was numb. 
The doctor gave Simon a pamphlet for cremation and burial services and then led him down to the morgue so he could get one final look. Your body was covered with a pristinely white sheet up to your collarbones and your eyes were closed. You were so much paler than Simon could ever imagine you and it stunned him. He’s seen multiple people die in his life due to his career, but he would never want to see you like them. It was entirely too much. Simon couldn’t do anything but silently cry. He caressed your cheek and pushed back your hair to place a last kiss on your forehead. The coldness of your skin made this whole situation really sink in for him.
“You didn’t deserve this, my love. It should’ve been me.”
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gerryrigged · 1 year
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DickTim - Unrequited???
Me: (in the mood for Angst, attempting to dream up actually legitimately unrequited Dick -> Tim for maximum Dick pining and pain)
My DickTim brain: yeah sorry, you came to the wrong brain, I can’t muster up a scenario right now where Tim Drake is not on some level in love with Dick Grayson. Even if he’s like happily hitched to someone else, that just means he came to terms with it, not that it doesn’t exist ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Me: fuck. Okay then, how about Amnesia!Tim? 😈 Can't love Dick if he doesn't even know his own name amirite mwahaha
My DickTim brain: omg but what if Tim takes in Dick’s beautiful, worried face, the panicked care with which he checks Tim over, and proceeds to fall in love with him all over again, possibly before learning his own name? 🥺💕
Me: 😍😍😍 - wait no, goddammit. Come on, keep in mind the goal here okay?
Me: hmm, how about… Hanahaki AU where Tim had to have his love for Dick surgically removed literal years ago?
My DickTim brain: you don’t even like Hanahaki AUs but ok. Tragic! 😩 How can we fix this problem? Dick is gutted he didn’t know about this, but sees signs of hope in Tim’s smile and the way their relationship has gradually been improving over the years since the low point that must have been the Hanahaki surgery. And he’s right for not giving up! Tim’s love for him re-grows like a stubborn weed.
My DickTim brain: Except not a weed because it’s not Hanahaki anymore because it’s requited. Hope this helps. 😌
Me: …you are the opposite of helpful.
Me: alright so what if Tim is still angry with Dick post-BruceQuest, so he's moved on and no longer has feelings for–
My DickTim brain: –I think you mean, Tim is angry with Dick post-BruceQuest and it’s complicated BECAUSE he still has feelings for–
Me: WILL YOU CUT THAT OUT
Me: ...Tim gets shot with a magical Opposite Ray, so there 😡
My DickTim brain: okay but that’s hilarious tho, like it becomes excruciatingly obvious how in love he normally is because of how suddenly cold and indifferent he is to Dick specifically. Dick Grayson who? And Dick doesn’t know why this drives him quite so up the wall, but he is in fact losing his mind having gone from #1 in Tim’s affections to dead last. When he’s not putting every scrap of energy into reversing the spell's effects, he’s stubbornly throwing himself against the icy wall of Tim’s apathy.
My DickTim brain: Everyone is like Dick. You know that’s useless, right? It’s magic. Stop hurting yourself for no reason. While Dick is like "that sounds like LOSER TALK to me - Tim, Timmy, Timbo, come train-surfing with me 🥺"
My DickTim brain: or alternatively, especially post-Red Robin, he's like, "No reason? Do you have any idea how unbearable this is for me? How much it reminds me of - no, no, I'm not going through this again. I've let Tim go before and I still don't know whether that was the right thing to do. But I've never given up on him before and I'm not starting now. We were doing so good - like hell am I letting some spell screw that up. TIM, hey, come train-surfing with me!"
My DickTim brain: meanwhile the other person is like, "Raven and Zatanna said the counterspell would be ready in less than a week, Dick PLEASE 😭"
Me: DAMMIT you’re so right 😔
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evermourning · 8 months
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𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 - kim seungmin
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pairing: kim seungmin x reader (bewitched series pt. 4)
genre: angst, hurt/no comfort, non!idol au
wc: 1.1k
warnings: not proofread AT ALL, language, hallucination, mentions of nausea/feelings of nausea, mentions of smoking, unrequited love, you may hate me for this
a/n: don't smoke kids!
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when you ended your relationship with kim seungmin, your one true love, you made an unyielding oath that you would never give a shit about ex-boyfriends.
this became unfortunately impossible when every waking moment you were wallowing in your own guilt and self-despair, dreaming desperately about the love you once had. it was like seungmin had taken a paintbrush, and with long languid strokes, drowned every crevice, nook, and cranny of your brain with the memories of him.
even living in this town was unbearable, seeing him from afar laughing and smiling as if he was utterly unaffected by your tragic romance. you eventually decided to fly back to your hometown just to get away from him. you were lucky you could.
the entire flight, sailing tranquilly through deep blue skies where the stars were much more visible than the city lights, you sat there, engulfed in your own pitiful delusion.
we never did say goodbye, did we? it was more of a "see you soon", it had to be. no, kim seungmin is a terrible influence who will only make your life progressively worse. that's what he aspires to, after all. but what if he were to call me up? i don't know if he has me blocked, but i have him unblocked. you know, in case he ever decides he still needs me.
it was like an infectious cancer, slowly integrating itself into your system, this feeling of hurt and confusion and disarray. damn it, it really fucking hurt to have to just act like nothing happened. you were at your absolute weakest, but still had to act like you could carry the world on your back.
it hurt more that you were alone, without the boy who was your anchor in murky waters.
...
once you arrived in your hometown, you had this stupid idea that you would just wake up a new person, the memories of him simply wiped from your brain. however, every morning was just as painful as the last, the painful evocation of his being like a pure white tablecloth irreparably stained with the deep flushed burgundy of red wine.
for sixteen long days you fought unbearable urges to just grab your phone, calling him while sobbing profusely. for sixteen long days you laid awake at night, staring at the ceiling, too haunted by him to sleep peacefully. for sixteen long days you wondered if you were the problem.
you'd found methods to shut him out that were not as great as you hoped. you'd taken up smoking, much to your parents' dismay. you knew deep down it was a horrid decision that was most likely going to haunt you later, but you didn't care. after restraining yourself emotionally and mentally for so long, maybe a cigarette was what you needed. however, the nagging voice in your head painstakingly reminded you that to you, smoking was just like this boy you hopelessly loved: no matter how long you resisted and fought the temptation, you would always lose. a true trait of an embarrassing romantic, desperately caught in the silk threads of an ex-lover's web.
why couldn't you let go? seungmin had brought you nothing but trouble. every single time you even saw him, there was this feeling in your gut of all these emotions jumbled together. was it longing? was it hate? was it hurt? was it love? you tried and tried and tried to scrutinize said emotions under some sort of psychological microscope, but they always ended up in some colorless, misshapen blob.
in your head, you tried every situation possible. in the confines of your mind, where the only thing holding you together was your imagination and sheer delusion, you and seungmin lived happily ever after. but that was the confines of your mind, a fantasy inside a prison. in the real world, you and seungmin were a pair of star-crossed lovers, fated to love once and never again, swathed in tragedy.
it was in the back of your mind, what you could've been, would've been, two twin ghosts, staring blankly, their piercing ebony orbs drilling symmetrical holes into your skull.
and then, you saw the boy.
he started appearing everywhere, from various distances, always staring silently. no emotion was on his face other than pure, unbridled contempt. his stature and appearance were fucking identical to seungmin. yet he never talked. it was a reminder of your past.
the boy appeared again, and again, and again, and again, and again...and again.
you couldn't take it anymore. tears streamed down your cheeks, pooling on your linen sheets as you pulled out your phone to frantically dial in a number you had memorized to a t.
kim seungmin, your end and your beginning, your problem and your solution, picked up approximately after the third or fourth ring.
"hello? yn, is that you?" you took a deep breath, not even paying attention to how your hands had become unstable and shaky.
"yeah, it's me. how are you doing?" you asked, testing the waters. were they still choppy, filled with jagged rocks and sharks? or had they become more moderate and mild during this horrid separation?
"i'm good. you know, i saw that you called me, and i wasn't even nervous or anything. this time away from you really helped me heal. i guess we just weren't right for each other." the words were like a spear, impaling your guts as they spewed everywhere.
"really?" you asked, your volume significantly lower as you recovered from the shock. you fumbled around in your bag for a cigarette and your lighter, desperate for some comfort.
"yeah, haha." a higher, feminine voice could be heard saying something unintelligible to seungmin on the other side of the phone. "oh, shit...i gotta go. my girlfriend needs me. i'll see you around, okay? i noticed i haven't seen you in like two weeks, which is unusual. bye, now."
and then he hung up.
he hung up, leaving you dumbfounded, sitting on your bed with an unlit cigarette. that was when the overwhelming wave of nausea came, and you rushed to the bathroom.
for sixteen long days, pieces of the person you once knew yourself as withered away and crumbled to dust. and in those very same sixteen days, which each felt like an entire timeline, seungmin completely moved on, unaffected, and found himself a replacement.
you really shouldn't have called. you wouldn't have.
but you broke your promise. and unbeknownst to you, that was the very first domino. it would fall and fall and fall until you had single-handedly ruined your own life.
isn't that just fucking pathetic?
...
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@evermourning, ©2023. all rights reserved.
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「 Inside The Black 」 Part 2
Part 1
☾ Pairing: Billy Hargrove x (Fem)Reader
☾ Summary: Flayed!Billy attempts to bring you to the Mind Flayer, but is stopped by non other than our favorite group of danger prone kiddos.
☾ CW: LOTS of violence (and it gets pretty descriptive), angst, choking, lewd memories, is tragic fluff a thing? I'm making it a thing, regular fluff, crying, if I miss anything let me know ♡
🛑 18+ MINORS DNI 🛑
☾ Word Count: 2.9k
☾ A/N: It's finally here! I didn't expect so many people to actually want a part two. ♡ I promised Reader & Billy would be saved... I never said it was gonna be easy. 😏 Enjoy! ~ ✨️
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Your subconscious was a lot darker than you expected. At first it was a haze of dreamy events - some that have happened in the past, and some that you've fantasized. Faded out in sepia tint like an old photograph. A happy couple, far away from the hidden turmoil of mind controlling monsters and lab experiments. It was pleasant while it lasted. So pleasant, you were willing to accept this as the afterlife.
Then it all went black. Empty. Not a sound or anything around aside from a sort of watery liquid covering the 'floor' in a thin layer. That was where you sat, naked, rocking with your knees tucked to your chest.
"Y/N?"
The voice was so soft and feminine, clouded with concern. Your head shot up, turning to look for where it was coming from. To your right, slowly approaching you was a young girl. Familiar. A face you faintly remember seeing alongside Billy's little sister when she hung around at the mall. What was she doing here?
Slowly, step by step, she made her way closer to you. She wouldn't speak again until she was an arm's length away, trying not to look directly at you in your birthday suit. "Can you- can you hear me?"
"More than that, kid. I can see you." Flames licked at the inside of your throat, hoarse from the events you tried to deny. Billy… or something in Billy's body.. strangled you. A sob choked its way up to your lips. "Am I dead?"
She shook her head, kneeling down beside you. "We saw you. Saw when Billy…" The girl raised her hands to her throat, cringing while she demonstrated a squeezing motion. We? An endless stream of questions swirled around in your head, waiting for you to vomit them out. Like, how the hell is she here? Wherever here was. How did she see what happened? How much did she see?? Questions that would go unanswered for the moment. "Not much time. Billy is taking you to the pool. When you see Max, follow her. Run."
"Wait!" You yelled. Your arm shot out to reach for her, grasping onto nothing as her form vanished into swirling smoke. Within seconds you began to do the same. Watching in horror as your hands dispersed into smokey particles. The space around felt distant and floaty until-
Thud!
The world around you tilts and jolts. Five heavy footsteps later a latch opens, bathing you in moonlight and humid summer air. Billy's stern face stared down into your eyes. "Sorry to cut your nap short, sweetheart." There was so much spite and disdain in his tone, it nearly broke you. To put it honestly, he was no saint. There have been plenty of heated words thrown your way during a disagreement. Still, there were lines he refused to cross. Things even he wouldn't say/do. Attempting to kill you, for an example.
Surprisingly you weren't bound by anything. No ropes, no cuffs, nothing of the sort. The only thing on you was the blanket from your bedroom, haphazardly wrapped around your naked form. It made sense. You didn't feel like much of a threat at the moment. Just weak and sore in some very embarrassing places, given the situation. He fucked you into oblivion, and now you had to wonder if that was also a part of weakening you.
"Where am I?" You croaked, barely above a whisper. Your only response was being grabbed by the throat and lifted out of the trunk of his car. No air left in you to cry out from the pain - white hot and unbearably intense. His fingers squeezed and dug into the bruised skin, only relenting when tears sprung up in the corners of your eyes.
"No more questions. I'm just here to pick up the little shit." The trunk was slammed shut, making you flinch and pull the blanket up to cover your dignity. You didn't want it - whatever it was inside him - to see you like this.
The encounter in your mind lingered, seeming like a dream. Was that girl really there? Everything she said so far was true. As Billy pulled you along by your arm, you recognized the entrance to the community pool where he worked. His steel grip was sure to cause another bruise, the way he yanked you so hard you could hardly keep the blanket snug around you.
The place looked closed down for the day. Dark and void of any human life. Until you catch a peek of red hair, sticking out from the entrance to the showers.
"When you see Max, follow her. Run."
Fuck it. Only thing left to lose was your life, and you had already avoided death once tonight. So you took the chance. Springing up the remaining bits of energy in your body, you brought your face down to the hand he had wrapped around your forearm and bit it. You bite him. Sinking your teeth into the flesh like it was your last meal. It didn't appear to hurt him as much as it caught him off guard. All the same, he ripped his arm away and set you free with a hiss. "Bitch!"
You don't stick around to find out how he'd retaliate. Bare feet sore from landing repeatedly on the harsh concrete, but you didn't slow. Only pure adrenaline propelled you forward, still clutching that damn blanket to your chest. The showers, get to the showers. It was all so dark, but you found your way. Choosing to tune out the distant pattering of Billy's steps chasing after you. He was far enough for you to be hidden by the darkness.
"Pssst! Y/N!" Someone whispered from deep into the area, beyond where the shower stalls ended. That long red hair was impossible to miss. The child you had only interacted with in passing was now your saving grace. Rounding that corner, you found more than what you expected. Less than what you hoped. Max wasn't standing with a police officer, or even a goddamn priest. It was just her ragtag group of friends. A bunch of kids. Including the one that approached you in that dark place.
"Oh my god, she's naked." One of them gasped, speaking with a slight lisp. Max thwacked him on the arm, furrowing her brows at him before taking your wrist in her hand. Thankfully a lot more gentle than her brother. "Come on, he'll be here any second now. I'll fill you in along the way." As if there was any way you'd retain this information in the midst of all this.
If they had told you something like this any day before today, you would've laughed it off. Maybe chucked it up to being a part of that D&D game the kids played - although Max wasn't really interested in it. It all seemed like something out of a Stephen King novel. To 'dumb it down for you' she only explained that your boyfriend was being possesed, mind controlled by a smokey spider monster from an Upside Down dimension. A spider monster that was expelled from their friend Will's body by extreme heat exposure, like a fiery exorcism. Simple. Reeeal simple.
The redhead peeled the creaky door open, guiding you into a sauna that was about the size of a walk-in closet. "Just keep him in here as long as you can. We don't know if it might've gotten into you too, so uh… we need you to get in too. Precautions and all that. Besides, he-" She looked away, shoving some sort of emotion down that you couldn't place. "-he cares about you. If anyone could help, it'd be you."
"Incoming!" The young boy who commented on your lack of clothing whispered, stepping back into the shadows with the others. You nodded and stepped into the sauna, bracing yourself. If this could work… if there was a way to get your Billy back, it was worth it.
Billy came barreling around the corner, stomping so hard it echoed throughout the room. His eyes searched the darkness until he found you, hugging yourself and trembling. A feline approaching a mouse in a trap. He strutted toward you, basking in the terror that filled your eyes the closer he got. The door swung open as he caught up to you, staring you down with a look that could devour you. Just what the monster wants.
A loud bang bounced off the walls of the enclosed space, ringing in your ears. Billy was even forced to stumble forward, almost falling into you as the door slammed behind him. That girl. The one from the darkness in your mind. She stood in view of the small window, holding up her right hand towards the door. Her left hand reached back toward the showers, straining and knitting her eyebrows until a metallic snap was heard. A metal rod flew in her direction, navigated by her movements to wedge itself into the sauna's door handle and under the pipe beside it.
For a second or two, he seemed calm. Maybe a little confused, and it lit a small bit of hope in you. That even for a second you might get a glimpse of your Billy. The heat started to seep in and immediately his first reaction was to turn and bang on the door. Pressing his face into the window, already beginning to bead with sweat. "Let me out!! Max, open this fucking door!" He screamed until he sounded hoarse, throwing himself around every surface in a blind rage. "YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME IN HEAR!!!"
You reminded him of your presence, risking yourself with a shaky whisper. "Billy… Billy, calm down."
His head whipped over his shoulder, looking like he genuinely forgot you were in the room. "Y/n?" What was first said as a question, repeated as a confirmation. "Y/n.. What did I do? WhatdidIdo-" His knees met the tiled floor, collapsing at your bare feet. A peek into the light, where the crushing guilt was waiting to hit him like a ton of bricks.
My Billy. Kneeling beside him, still cautious, you outstretched your hand for him to hold. How do you comfort someone in a moment like this? He wasn't all there yet - that thing was still inside him - but he has floated to the surface. Breaking down into heaving sobs that had his whole body trembling. "I didn't mean it, Y/n. I didn't wanna do it! I couldn't stop-"
"I know, baby. I know." Caution could wait. You wrapped your arm around him, palming the back of his sweat-soaked hair to bring your foreheads together. His skin was clammy and glistening under the orange-tinted overhead lights. The other hand was still holding the blanket, that was honestly heating you up more than the steam. "I'm here.. I love you. I didn't get to say it back, but I love you Billy. Stay with me."
Whatever clarity Billy was allowed for the time being, he cherished it - and loathed it at the same time. His actions. The one person he had already doomed to the Mind Flayer's sacrificial conquest, before he wound up at your window. The pain he inflicted on you. Stripped away and vulnerable, exposing what he always felt like on the inside. A babbling, crying, wounded child waiting for mommy to save him.
The air was suffocating, steadily rising in temperature. He's not going to like this. He sniffled, reducing his sobs to a hiccup. "You have to get out of here."
You shook your head, still holding onto his shoulder but putting a little distance between you, just to look at his face. The action of wiping away the tears raining from those precious blues, so familiar that it's muscle memory. Your hand rested there, at his cheek, stroking small circles. "I'm not going anywhere. If it gets me, then it gets me."
So be it.
Billy folded into himself, writhing and letting out a gut-wrenching scream. Shades of black inked into his veins, spreading over his body. It's working! Either that thing was getting ready to come out, or you had just seriously pissed it off. Probably both. He thrashed around, punching into the floor so hard that bits of tile broke off in splinters.
"Turn it up!" Max's voice commanded from the other side of the door. Her hand pressed to the glass, peering in at her brother. His knuckles were bloodied and raw. Hair disheveled, and black liquid staining the corner of his mouth. She gasped, unable to tear herself away from the sight.
Unfortunately, it likes an audience.
In your eyes, it all happened in slow motion. Seeing him stand there with his body facing the door. You couldn't see it dead on, but you caught it in the fog-resistant window's reflection. A sickening grin spreading across his face, before he captured your throat in his hand. It wanted Max and her friends to watch. Make the choice to watch you die, or interfere and ultimately set him free. Maybe this was meant to be.
You escaped it once. Maybe twice was asking too much.
Your feet lifted off the ground, toes curling and searching for a surface to stand on. All the while, he wouldn't even look at you. He looked at them. Raising a brow as you began to choke and whine. The blanket finally fell free from your body, taking a backseat to your frenzied flailing. To hell with modesty!
You would dig your nails into his arm until they chipped and bled. To no avail. You would kick at his side, and whatever part of him you could reach. Still to no avail. The battery was depleting, and somewhere - beyond the pounding rhythm of your heart - you heard your name. It sounded like home. It sounded like the rumble of your boyfriend's car. It sounded like his laugh, and the way he sighed when he wraps his arms around you after a long day. It was warm, welcoming and white.
"Do something! He's killing her!"
"No! Look at him!"
So you did just that. Hoping to at least die with the vision of him as your last. The lights flickered, but you could see him through the strobes. Head thrown back with an animalistic roar. The thing, a mixture of black ooze and particles forced its way out through Billy's mouth.
The window shattered, allowing the creature to exit the sauna and escape into the night. Leaving you both spent, and hitting the tile in unison. Red blotches discolored your vision as you still tried to get a look at him - the result of a burst blood vessel.
"Hold on, Y/n! Help is-"
We did it… You could die happy with that thought alone.
◇ - ☆ - ◇ - ☆ - ◇ - ☆ - ◇ - ☆ - ◇
Beep… beep… beep…
The world lit up beyond your eyelids, making you squint and turn away from the source. Everything ached. Not as much as you thought it would, but the annoying prick you felt in the crook of your arm might have something to do with that. You've been hooked up to IV's enough to recognize the feeling.
"Billy?" Your lips moved, but not much came out. A delicate squeak at the most.
"Easy, darlin'. Don't strain yourself."
The sound was unmistakable, but you had to see for yourself. You opened your eyes, thankful that your eyesight had been spared. Nothing could have been more rewarding than seeing this man smiling at you again. A weak smile with a busted lip, but you were still more than willing to kiss him again. And again. And again.
He brought his hand up to your face, meaning to stroke your cheek but he pulled back. Not before you could notice the bandages wrapped around it. It was the blink of an eye for you, but for Billy it had been three days. Three days of being bothered by scientists, signing nondisclosure agreements, lying to everyone (outside of those in the know) about what happened, and watching his stepmother mourn the death of his father - the one person he successfully gave to the Mind Flayer.
All those things were nothing compared to watching you lay in that hospital bed. Listening to the doctors list off every way he damaged you. Ankle fractures, damage to the windpipe, mild concussion, a burst blood vessel in the left eye, various cuts and bruises… It made sense, telling everyone that the two of you got into a terrible car crash. He had to sacrifice his precious car to make it believable. Still, that wasn't enough punishment. Now he has to face you, and see you giving him that loving smile. Beaming at him like he was your favorite person in the world. He was. That's what made it hurt.
"I did this…" He said, afraid to even touch you in case he managed to somehow fuck up the machine you were hooked up to. "I-"
You shook your head, crooking your bandaged fingertip to call his attention. You didn't need him to hear you. Just watch as you mouthed the words 'I love you', sealing it with a blown kiss in his direction.
We can survive this.
Billy took your hand, carefully locking your fingers with his. Ignoring the small pain it caused him. He may not deserve you right now, but if you let him, he would spend everyday making it up to you. Maybe it took almost losing you to see how much you meant to him.
"I love you too."
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☾ A/N: Part 2 has been delivered! My emo playlist got a reeeal workout while I was writing this one. 🤣 Comments and reblogs are always welcome. Feel free to drop some ideas in my Ask. ♡
Ao3, Masterlist ☆
Taglist: @and-claudia @eddieussy @amialesbianorindenial @gracethieved @loadivine @robunny127 @simpforcarlislecullen @dilf-loverxo @rosemarycupcake42
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whynotlol9 · 5 months
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My thoughts on Christmas Special.
I was so excited, i was reaally looking forward for it and i was ready to love it but... it just wasnt it! I tried to love it, its the last ever episode of one of my favourite series, but i came out of it very dissatisfied
I like sad endings, i love angst and heartbreak and tragic deaths, and i also love happy endings, what i really dislike is a dissatisfing ending. At the end i felt cheated! I was ready for anything (ghost being sucked off or even alison/mike dying) for as long as it made sense in the episode and it was genuine. I wasnt sad, i was baffled!
First, this felt so disconnected from 5x6! It was such a jump from "family, family, family" and acceptance that they are indeed family, to "oh no, we bother you, you need to be your own REAL family". It needed a whole season to lead to that, ten minutes is not enough, i just dont believe it!
It was established that alison cant live anywhere without seeing ghosts. She will just trade the ones closest to her for a new bunch. It was season one. If she needed some space then they could make some ground rules like ghosts get one wing of the house, living people another and they spend time together.
And speaking of ghosts, all development went through the window! Especially my Kitty, she grew so much, she was ready to be a big sister. We saw her being jealous in season three, she wouldn't be like that. It felt so off, like we saw almost everyone revert coupe years ago. Ghosts grew in that time i just dont think they could be that unbearable, we saw them become better! Alison is not there doing everything for them every minute, she has a backbone, she established boundaries before. They did manage to cohabitate peacefully. And on that note, i felt like alison was changed too much. I get it, motherhood, exhausting, but she was too nice! I would be furious if i saw a priest performing exhorcism behing my back, in my house, maybe killing all my family. Yes, it was made with good intentions, but it was made in secret, no trust there
Also, i liked betty, but in the last ever epusode we barely saw the ghosts. We saw them so little. I just wanted to see them being silly and genuine one last time!
The pacing was way off as everyone saw. I think the biggest problem i have is that tge crew wanted it to be a final episode. They wanted to say goodbye, so they made them separate. To move on themselves, they were too wrapped up the characters. But do we as an audience need to move on so bad? Its a fun and heartfelt show about dead people living on, i dont need great realism, i dont want last great lesson about living your life, i want my Christmas special to be a good episode with lots of heart, not some metaphor for moving on.
Yes, families do move out and stay in contact, but its not the same. And its not like they could call and chat or visit regularly.
Im rambling but all in all, i felt cheated. I really believe that the episode was made more for theythem than for us, they wanted a goodbye and a real sense of finalty. But as an audience maybe we didnt need one, why cant we have a happy feeling knowing our favourite family stayed rogether and just have a final shot of them in button house opening presents and being happy. What is so bad in happy open ending?
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vanishedangels · 1 year
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As the stars are shining
Summary: Jedi Luke Skywalker's world turns upside down when he comes to the aid of a force-sensitive child only to find that Din Djarin, the only man he has ever loved and pushed out of his life six years earlier on Dagobah, is the kid's guardian.
Blame it on the storm & Castles on the sand sequel
Pairing: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker
Characters: Din Djarin, Luke Skywalker, Grogu, Paz Vizsla, Ahsoka Tano, Greef Karga, R2-D2.
Rating: Mature
Tags: AU, Canon Divergence, Post The Mandalorian Season 2, Getting Back Together, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Tumblr Prompts, POV Alternating, Mostly Luke's POV.
Chapters: 1/3
Navigation: <- Previous Part • Next Chapter ->
Part 3 of Wonderwall series
Excerpt:
The blonde turned around and walked towards his own room fighting against the urge to glance at Din over his shoulder, still he didn't need to look at him to know that the man was still standing in the same spot, and, presumably, staring at him. When he closed the door behind him he rubbed his face hard with his hands, Din was a door away from him and flashes of their nights together started invading his mind. It was torture.
"You're not a kid anymore, come on, Luke." He said staring at himself in the mirror, he huffed "You're a Jedi, get your shit together, man."
Chapter 1: You'll never change what's been and gone
Nevarro's sewers welcomed him like a hundred times before, except this time the air was thinner and everything around him looked darker.
A couple of foundlings passed by his side, springing and giggling inside their mandalorian's helmets, that sight soothed him, making him understand that he made the right decision by staying true to himself, although he couldn't stop thinking that he put the covert before his relationship with Luke since day one and, somehow, he knew that this was coming.
This.
Luke, leaving him. Luke, making the decision for both of them. Luke, breaking his heart.
This.
A new, foreign and unbearable emptiness settled in his chest, threatening to destroy him for good. He frowned behind the helmet walking down a duct, trying to convince himself that at least he knew how love feels, even with the tragic component. Yes, he knew that part as well now.
A year had passed since Luke Skywalker stood still while he was walking away from him, life became colourless since that day, monotonous and even mechanical, he accepted a job, returned to the covert with his pockets full of credits and then he would leave to accept another job as the cycle repeated itself until everything stayed the same and the memory of Luke's eyes started to fade away. Yes, everything became repetitive until something unexpected happened. He overheard a conversation between a bounty hunter and the agent of the Guild, Greef Karga, the two humans were exchanging information, there was no chain code involved and that caught Din's attention. When Karga activated the puck, Din froze, suddenly the memory of those expressive eyes he missed so much regained all its force, the holo image of Luke Skywalker was being projected between the two men seated in front of each other. Din frowned behind his helmet and waited till the man left the cantina, he followed him stealthily, but there was no way to fool a bounty hunter, Din knew it very well, they ended up wrestling in the loneliness of an alley and Din was the one that walked in one piece out of it, he staggered a little, leaning his hand on a wall, dropping the puck to the floor and crushing it against the dusty street with the heel of his boot. He felt relieved, although something started that day, something that made him a prisoner from that moment on. He managed to track and kill five bounty hunters that had the audacity to accept the task of hunting down the man he once held between his arms, even when it meant traveling to distant planets putting his own contracts on hold, and having their blood on his hands.
Paz Vizsla followed him to a common room, Din didn't stop walking ignoring him completely making the other mandalorian feel frustrated, all of a sudden his comrade jostled him and Din's step faltered.
"You're late. Again." Vizsla said through gritted teeth, fixing his visor on Din's.
Din was craning his neck holding his gaze not saying a word.
"What is going on, Djarin? I know pretty boy ditched you. It's obvious. You look miserable." He added still towering over him. "Then what is holding you back now?"
Din frowned behind his helmet "I don't know what you are talking about." He rolled his shoulders back and walked away from him, Vizsla didn't insist, nevertheless he made Din think about it. Was he being selfish by putting his responsibilities aside to protect Luke? Even when he didn't know for sure if he was still alive? That thought made his stomach clench, he shook his head trying to shake that horrible scenery off.
Some nights inside the Razor Crest's cockpit he thought back to the days he spent with Luke, a tremulous smile crossed his face when he remembered the way the blonde looked at him, all the time, with curious eyes, full of tenderness and even love. He curled his hands into fists, he always knew that Luke would be the one ending their relationship, he was so young and impressionable, eventually when he grew up he would realize that Din was only a mandalorian with an aggressive attitude that made him a lethal weapon, nothing more and nothing less, not special at all. He was waiting for the day that beautiful young man would look right at his visor and he would see nothing but disdain in his charming blue eyes. That was the reason why he never told him about the way he felt, and the only time he couldn't hold it back he made sure Luke was almost asleep and even then he told him he loved him in mando'a, knowing that Luke wouldn't understand a single word.
"Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, cyare."
The words reverberating inside his mind, making him feel lost but not regretting a single thing.
Eventually, The Empire fell and Din hasn't heard about any bounty on Luke's head since then, he didn't know why Skywalker was so important, he assumed that it was because he was a rebel, but as clever as he was, that explanation didn't satisfy him anywise.
Then, the child came into his life and since the moment he decided to rescue him from the imperial remnants they traveled across the galaxy protecting each other. The little creature could do things that Din couldn't explain or even understand, eventually he learned about something called the force, his mission was returning the kid to his own kind, the Jedi. He crossed the galaxy looking for a Jedi, they went through a lot together. The kid, Grogu, was kidnapped before his eyes on Thyton and the Razor Crest was reduced to ashes at the same moment. That day Din lost his only companion and his only home. The feeling of emptiness was consuming his whole being, an emptiness even deeper than the one Luke walking out of his life had caused, this one was terrifying, sending Din to a very dark place.
The suffering, the agony, ended when he held the little child in his arms again, there on that imperial light cruiser, doomed to a certain death at a dark troopers platoon's hands, invincible and lethal combat droids that a hooded mysterious Jedi destroyed in a blink of an eye. And when Din opened the doors to let the Jedi step inside the imperial cruiser bridge his eyes widened behind his visor as the man pulled the hood down revealing his face.
Luke.
He froze.
This is not happening.
~
The sweet warm breeze of the jungle night caressed his dirty blonde hair, he closed his eyes relishing in the calmness surrounding him, soothing his senses. He rested his hands on his knees sitting on the refreshing grass with his legs crossed, everything was quiet, he took in a breath trying to connect with his own feelings. Feelings. He frowned with his eyes still closed, he thought about how he managed to control them since the day he gave his father a proper funeral, all by himself, mourning a man no one else would miss, the entire galaxy was celebrating at the same moment he was saying goodbye to the man he looked up to since he was a little child.
Feelings. Now he was thinking about a different kind of feelings, romantic feelings, those feelings he buried deep inside himself trying to leave Din Djarin behind.
He rose to his feet walking towards the camp he set up earlier that same day, he looked inside the tent, Grogu was sleeping peacefully over a blanket, the sight of the little child using a blanket as a bed brought back memories of halcyon days, when he was full of hope and falling in love for the first time, before life removed his innocence, his dreams, his plans. He blinked remembering waking up next to Din, with his arms around him, he tilted his head trying not to think about it but he failed. He spent the rest of the night gazing at the stars, thinking about Din, he thought back to the many times he held his com device in his hand ready to hit Din's link, and how every time he let it slip from his hand convincing himself that he couldn't give Din what a lover should give. Luke understood the day he faced Darth Vader for the first time that his life didn't belong to him anymore, his master's words were reverberating inside his head every day, every hour since that day, he frowned remembering that he convinced himself that he wasn't Luke Skywalker anymore, no, he was the galaxy's last hope, a means to an end. Not a human, not a man anymore, just an instrument. He really believed that he was carrying the weight of the galaxy on his shoulders, therefore there was nothing to give a lover, there was nothing to give anymore.
~
The weeks went on and Luke spent his days training Grogu and talking with him through the force, the child was growing impatient as the days passed and the mandalorian wasn't showing up, his little heart broke into pieces when a ship crossed the sky finally landing by the recently built temple and the person walking out of it wasn't Din but Ahsoka Tano.
That afternoon Luke was flipping through the pages of an ancient Jedi book inside the temple, he frowned leaning his hands on the table when he heard a noise coming from the entrance, he glanced over his shoulder, he smiled fondly seeing Ahsoka leaning against the doorframe, she crossed her arms over her chest smiling back at him.
Luke was genuinely happy to have his father's friend and Padawan in his life, he felt a deep connection with her even when he didn't know about her until a couple of months ago.
"Studying, young Skywalker?" She asked chuckling.
Luke spun on his heels leaning his backside on the table, resting both hands on the table at both sides of his hips "Thank you for these books." He nodded.
"You're welcome." She said taking a few steps forward "You know, I've just had a curious conversation with the little one." Luke arched his eyebrows focused on her face. "He said that his mandalorian friend is coming to visit him, soon." She stressed the last word with a smirk on her face.
That made Luke looked down in order to avoid her gaze, defensively folding his arms across his chest "Huh?" He asked before leaning forward and turning around, he pretended he was still looking at the open book over the table.
Ahsoka stood still behind him "It's not a good idea, Luke."
He narrowed his eyes, sighing, letting his head hanging down.
"He's too attached to the mandalorian. You gave him your coordinates allowing him to see the child." When Luke didn't say a word she moved to stand a little closer to him "You know this is not the Jedi way."
She went silent forcing Luke to finally turning his head toward her "Well, maybe this is my way." He said under his breath, blinking at her.
"You're not thinking straight. It's okay, I understand, their bound is so strong, I get it. You think that you're keeping a child away from his father, I know you might feel overwhelmed by that, please, let me help you." She said nodding at him.
Luke frowned not breaking eye contact with her.
"I'm gonna stay here until his arrival, to persuade him."
Luke's heart skipped a beat. Was she implying what he was thinking? "Persuade him?" He asked gingerly.
She nodded again "To go away."
He closed his eyes swallowing through the lump in his throat opening his eyes slowly as he finally faced her "I admire you and I respect you, but this is my Padawan, and this is my call. Not yours."
She leaned back staring at his eyes "This is a mistake."
"Let it be my mistake, then."
~
The child was meditating sitting across from him on the beautiful grass when something brought Luke out of his thoughts, a roaring engine sound made him look up to the sky only to find a shining royal Naboo N-1 starfighter flying above their heads. He parted his lips letting out a sigh as his heart leapt in his chest, something that he hasn't felt in a long time.
Grogu stared at him asking for his permission through the force, Luke nodded and the child rose to his little feet walking towards the temple as fast as he could and Luke followed him, trying to stay behind his Padawan, coming to a halt every two steps. When they were getting close to the building he could hear Din's voice at the distance "Hello friend, I'm looking for Skywalker." Luke's stomach clenched realizing that Din was calling him by his last name, it sounded so distant and wrong, even when he used to love when Din called him Skywalker when he was teasing him. He frowned staring down, stopping in his tracks, letting Grogu get ahead. Ahsoka was right, this was, indeed, a bad idea, but for different reasons. With a heavy heart Luke recognized that he was still affected by Din's presence, but not in the way he used to, but more in a way that he could only feel remorse. He tried to convince himself that he wasn't that man anymore, that free man that could live his life the way he wanted, free enough to allow himself to feel.
"I came to see the kid. Grogu?" He could see Din now as clear as the suns in the Tatooine sky, the mandalorian was arguing with Artoo now, the little droid decided to just ignore the man in beskar while Din was resting both hands on his hips leaning forward to stare at him a little closer "Artoo cut it out. It's me, Din." Luke chuckled, what a lovely view.
His expression went serious the moment he saw the way Din reacted when he finally spotted the child next to him, the kid used the force to jump right into his mandalorian friend's arms, and the man received him with a tender sigh, holding him tight in his arms. Luke turned around and sat down on the floor, leaning his back against a tree surrounding the temple, he breathed in, just staring at the horizon, close enough to listen to what was happening between the unlikely duo, finally reunited after two months. Luke frowned, on the one side he was relieved, since he started to believe that Din wouldn't come over and visit the child. On the other side he was now worried, knowing that he was encouraging his Padawan to keep seeing the man that he was extremely attached to, going against his better judgment. He sighed brushing his fingers across his forehead, trying to convince himself that everything would work out for the best.
~
Finally he emerged from behind the Temple, his eyes trying to find the mandalorian's visor, as black and mysterious as he remembered it, a polite smile appearing on his face when the mandalorian looked at him, hidden behind his helmet. Luke blinked closing the space between them, finally coming to a halt in front of the mandalorian and the child, folding his arms in front of his body, he closed his eyes and bowed his head, he opened his eyes again pointedly staring at the visor "Welcome-" He swallowed thickly realizing that he didn't know how to address Din after so long and after everything that happened between them. In a cowardly way, he switched his gaze from Din to Grogu, leaning forward and smiling at the kid "I can see that you're happy, Grogu. I hope you're enjoying your time together." He said staring back at Din now.
To Luke's surprise, Din nodded at him holding the kid close to his chest and his soft modulated voice soothed him by saying so quietly "Hello, Luke." And Luke's heart skipped a beat.
"Hi, Din." He replied absentmindedly under his breath, taken aback by Din's easiness. "Welcome, Din." He said finally finding the right words.
The sun was setting, bathing Din's beskar in orange light, making him look so warm and soft, but at the same time so brutally masculine and imposing.
"I'm leaving you guys, please, enjoy yourselves. I see you by dinner time." He looked at Din like trying to assess his mood.
"Thank you." He nodded again and Luke walked away from them, trying to process that Din Djarin was there, probably staring at him while he was walking into the Temple and he grimaced thinking about the day he let Din walk away from him and the decisions he made after that moment. Feeling his chest going tight as the air felt thick and his hands started sweating, he shook his head, trying to shrug his feeling of guilt away.
~
They sat down around a campfire, Luke was sitting with his back against Din, the mandalorian was feeding Grogu, the blonde Jedi smiled fondly every time he heard the kid making happy noises while Din was scolding him every two minutes.
He breathed deeply, letting the night air fill his lungs, the smell of nature blending in with the smoke and their spicy stew making him feel at ease, at home.
He was staring at the stars above his head when Din's voice took him out of his mind "He's fast asleep."
"Hmm?" Luke hummed not turning around.
"Maybe I should take him to his bedroom." The mandalorian said standing up and suddenly appearing before Luke's eyes, the blonde craned his neck to stare at him, he blinked a few times realizing that Din looked exactly the way he remembered him and something warm squirmed in his belly. "Luke?"
Fuck, I didn't remember how much I love the way you say my name.
Easy, Luke.
"Skywalker?" Din insisted now saying his last name and breaking Luke's reverie.
"Yes, let me walk you there." He finally said, getting to his feet.
He watched the mandalorian while he was carefully placing the baby in the bed and tucking him in, and he managed to sport a blank expression while a warmth feeling invaded him completely. Din was still a protector, it was obvious, always taking care of the ones he loved, Luke's heartbeat sped up when he realized Din had been staring at him for a while, the mandalorian was immobile, standing by the little one's bed.
The Jedi cleared his throat "Let me show you to your room, Din." He tried to hide how touched he was by the way Din was taking care of the baby, it was curious but he never thought about the possibility of Din being a father, and now it was the only thing that he could think about.
He didn't wait for Din to join him, he walked down the corridor as fast as he could and then he stood in front of a door, Din came to a halt, they were keeping a prudential distance between them. Luke gestured towards the door and Din opened it, peeking inside, the room looked cozy, since Luke spent the evening arranging it for Din.
"Looks really nice." The mandalorian said, but his visor was fixed on Luke's face now.
"What happened with the Razor Crest?" He asked without even thinking and when he noticed the way Din's shoulders tensed up he hated himself for even bringing it up.
"The imps blew it up after they kidnapped Grogu." He said still staring at Luke's face.
Shit.
Another reason to be mortified. He thought back to Din's words on the imperial light cruiser.
"I've been looking for a Jedi for so long, I put the child in danger looking for your people, we've lost everything."
"I'm sorry." He managed to say, and Din shrugged one arm at him, but Luke was really apologizing to him by saying those words, he knew that he was responsible for that too, since he hid his true nature from Din.
Silence settled between them for a while until Din swayed slightly on his feet "You look-" He tilted his head "Different." He finally said eliciting a chuckle from Luke.
"Yeah, I know." His blue eyes sparkling, then his smile died on his lips, thinking that while Din looked exactly the same he couldn't help but wonder how he looked behind his handsome helmet, a sliver of shame tormenting him, knowing that he once relished in Din's gorgeous face and his lovely brown eyes through the visions he couldn't control, in secret, another thing he hid from Din, and he couldn't help but try to imagine how he would look like after six years. Was his gorgeous dark hair painted in salt and pepper now? Were his warm expressive eyes graced with wrinkles at their corners? What about his freckles? What about his scars? Did life add new ones on his soft tanned skin? He blinked realizing he was lost in thought when Din leaned forward and his heart gave an extra beat.
"Your skin is paler now, and your hair looks darker, it's shorter, not messy anymore. And your eyes-" Din trailed off.
"My eyes?" Luke asked tilting his head.
"They look sad." He added in a lower voice making Luke's heart clench. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. It's just, you look different."
Trying to escape the situation Luke chuckled again "It's okay. Well, it's been ten years since we met."
"Actually it's been nine." Din retorted and Luke froze.
He nodded pressing his lips against each other, cracking a small smile "You're right." Of course he knew that they met nine years ago but he didn't have Din down as someone who might care about details, he always seemed so practical that it never crossed his mind. "Yeah, nine years." He added trying to play down the conversation.
"It's okay if you don't remember that, maybe it was more important to me than it was to you." Din deadpanned not breaking eye contact with him and the blonde felt a shiver running down his spine.
"What was more important to you?" He managed to ask under his breath.
Din drew his hand up resting it on the doorframe "Meeting you."
Luke's eyebrows drew together as his mouth set in a hard line, he was shocked, realizing that, maybe, Din hadn't moved on and his heart broke into pieces, he needed to soothe Din, he needed to be clear. "Well, I think I deserve it. Although you know it's not true." He finally said as he could feel his heartbeat thumping in his ears.
Din tilted his head like doubting him and Luke couldn't take it anymore.
"Oh come on, Din! You know I was crazy about you! I'm sure you noticed the way I shivered every time I saw you, staring at you with puppy eyes and a goofy smile on my face." He heaved a sigh, feeling vulnerable and naked before Din's eyes, still he didn't regret it.
Din hummed but didn't say a word. Indeed, Luke was exposing himself here, a little too much to suit him. He tried to compose himself but he wanted to be honest with Din. No more lies, no more lies.
"Look Din..." He said staring down, he sighed resting his hands on his hips, then he looked at Din again "I'm a Jedi Master now and I'm training your-" He trailed off.
"My foundling." Din said withdrawing his hand from the doorframe and shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
Luke took note of Din's uneasiness, thinking that maybe he was struggling with his feelings towards the child, he nodded staring at Din's visor "So please, don't make this even harder." He added wearing his heart on his sleeve for the first time in a while. Din flinched slightly by hearing him said it. Luke clicked his tongue shifting his gaze from Din to the wall.
"Luke, I need you to be honest." Din said trying to catch his eyes and he succeeded, the blonde was looking into his visor again as his blue eyes burned with sadness. "I met this Jedi, Ahsoka Tano." Luke nodded. "And she refused to take the child in because she said he has formed a strong attachment to me. What am I doing here?" He asked and Luke could swear he heard his voice breaking a little.
The blonde frowned looking at him sideways and finally avoiding his visor.
"Are you doing this because it's me?" He asked moving closer to Luke making his pulse run wild, as his chest heaved. "I mean, I know I shouldn't see him, shouldn't keep in touch with him. Tell me then, would you let Grogu see his guardian if it wasn't me? If it were someone else?"
Luke stared into his visor with an unusual intensity "No." He said flatly. "I wouldn't do this if it were someone else." He narrowed his eyes.
No more lies. No more lies.
Din leaned back still staring at him "Why?"
He frowned and looked down "You told me once that we shouldn't overthink things. So please, just trust me. Grogu will learn about balance, I'll see to it, it's my commitment." He nodded and raised his eyebrows "I won't put the child in danger or expose him to something that would lead him down the wrong path. Ever." He shook his head. "I hope it helps."
"It does." The mandalorian replied.
Luke was feeling relieved, therefore he tried to let the subject behind them "My bedroom's over there." He said pointing at the next door "Don't worry, this place is extremely safe and Grogu will be fine in his own room." He smiled politely "Well, you must be tired, see you tomorrow. Good night, Din." The blonde turned around and walked towards his own room fighting against the urge to glance at Din over his shoulder, still he didn't need to look at him to know that the man was still standing in the same spot, and, presumably, staring at him. When he closed the door behind him he rubbed his face hard with his hands, not believing everything that happened that night. Din was a door away from him and flashes of their nights together started invading his mind. It was torture.
"You're not a kid anymore, come on, Luke." He said staring at himself in the mirror, he huffed "You're a Jedi, get your shit together, man."
He shrugged off his black robes and peeled off his undershirt, placing them on a chair, he caressed the skin of his stomach, he arched one eyebrow. Seeing Din again ignited something inside him, it definitely brought something back. He has been considering his own body as a device, a way to canalize the force, for a long time now, it wasn't a source of pleasure in the strict sense of the word anymore. Anyway. He frowned thinking that it belonged to the past now, to feel the need to give himself to someone else. He tried to remember when was the last time that someone touched him tenderly, reverently, lovingly, and he sighed deeply realizing that that someone was none other than Din. He twitched his lips sitting on the bed and taking his boots off, finally lying on the mattress, resting his forearm against his forehead, staring at the ceiling. What was Din thinking at that right moment? He was curious. Din didn't seem to hate him, still his hostility towards Luke was there, waiting to express itself. He groaned covering his face with the pillow, knowing that this would be a long night.
~
The morning came and Luke walked out of his room only to find that Grogu and Din weren't inside the Temple. He left the building concerned, his heart in his throat until he found them playing by a creek, near the Temple, R2-D2 was unceasingly beeping at him, sliding around him in circles, trying to explain him that the child and the mandalorian were just having a bonding time by the creek.
"It's alright Artoo, I heard you the three first times, don't worry." He chuckled patting the little droid's head. He straightened out his back staring at Din, the mandalorian nodded at him scooping the baby up and Luke's smile went impossible wide.
While the kid was playing with Artoo, Din stood beside Luke. The two men staring at the little child and the droid enjoying themselves. Luke was smiling until Din tilted his head "I'm going to Mandalore." Luke frowned snapping his head towards him.
"Is it because the saber that's hanging from your utility belt?" The Jedi asked looking down at Din's waist.
"This?" Din asked curling his fingers around the hilt. "Partially." He added. "What do you know about this?" He asked turning towards Luke.
"Not enough, I'm afraid." He sighed "Grogu showed me some memories through the force. Is that true?" He asked as his forehead creased "That winning that saber in combat makes you The Mand'alor?"
Din shrugged one shoulder watching at the child and the droid "Yes."
Luke sighed "So you're the King of Mandalore." He said under his breath.
"I don't care about that." Din deadpanned.
Luke faced him "Then why are you going to Mandalore?"
The mandalorian took his time to answer "To redeem myself." Luke stared at him frowning. "I'm a mandalorian no more."
Luke froze and then he stared at Din holding his breath.
"I took my helmet off to rescue the child." He nodded.
Luke's heart skipped a beat, he parted his lips as horror crossed his features "What?"
"I'm not longer a mandalorian, Luke."
Luke stumbled a little and Din tried to catch him but it wasn't necessary since Luke leaned himself against a tree.
"Luke?" He asked trying to look at his eyes. But Luke was staring down, feeling like the air has been punched out of his lungs.
It couldn't be.
Din didn't lie when he said they've lost everything, he lost his home and his creed and he was now an outcast, while Grogu went through unspeakable torture and Luke was to blame.
"Luke?" Din asked again hesitating touching Luke's arm.
"I'm sorry." Luke whispered "It's on me, I'm sorry, I should have told you I was a force-user." His chest raising and falling fast.
Din tilted his helmet "I'm telling you this because I'm planning on coming back as soon as I redeem myself. This is the way." He nodded as his visor was fixed on Luke's face.
"Alright." Luke was leaning forward trying to catch his breath.
"I'm leaving around afternoon." Din said taking a few steps back, Luke looked at him confused. "I'm coming back as soon as I can. Is that okay?" He asked melting Luke's heart.
How could this man be so respectful? So perfect? So thoughtful? Luke shook his head not believing it, almost believing he didn't deserve his attention, not even in the past. "No?" Din sheepishly asked tilting his head down.
"What? No. Of course you can!" Luke straightened his dark robes "We'll be here, he'll be here waiting to see you again, Din."
"And what about you?" The mandalorian asked taking Luke's breath away.
"What?" Luke came close to him, staring up at his visor.
"Are you okay with me coming back? Is it right?" He bored into Luke's eyes, making the Jedi scowl.
Something was telling Luke that Din wasn't talking about the Jedi ways.
"You know I'm okay with that." He whispered.
Din nodded "Alright then." He looked back at Grogu "Can I spend the rest of the morning with him?" He looked at Luke again "Just the two of us."
The blonde nodded smiling sightly "Yes, Din."
"Thank you, Luke." Din looked at his own ship for a moment and then stared at Luke "I brought something for the kid, is a hovering pram, I-I think you'd find it useful. Would you accept it?"
Luke swallowed hard, he couldn't help but think that Din was seeing him as a monster with a cold heart, and it didn't sit well with him at all. "It would be very useful indeed, Din." The corner of his lips curled up but his smile didn't reach his eyes.
"Thank you again, Luke." Din said and then he walked away to join the child and Luke felt like his heart was ripping in two. How could his decisions bring so much pain? He couldn't wrap his head around it staring at his once-lover walking away from him, just like that time on Dagobah and his stomach flipped. Was it worth it, Luke? Was it worth it?
~
The kid looked extremely downhearted that evening, Luke handed him a bowl of soup and the kid didn't even lean forward to shove his spoon inside the bowl as usual. Luke patted his little arm "Don't worry Grogu, he's coming back soon." Grogu looked at him and babbled a little "You can miss him and still have a wholesome relationship with him." Luke said trying to convince himself more than reassuring the child. Yes, they could make it work.
Grogu chirped drawing his tiny hand up to grab the spoon, Luke nodded smiling when, all of a sudden, a vision reached him through the force. He parted his lips staring at the child, he narrowed his eyes as he put both hands on the table, glimpses of Din groaning in pain while he was encased in a narrow cage popping up in his mind, he could even feel Din's agony. He stood up abruptly. Grogu tilted his little head to stare at him with curious eyes.
"There's no time Grogu." The Jedi said scooping the baby up "The mandalorian needs us." The child whimpered concerned gripping onto Luke's forearm as he strode down the corridor. Luke opened the Temple's door with a wave of his free hand, his eyes flickered with determination, knowing that they were Din Djarin's only hope.
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milky-fixx · 2 years
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bleach | izuru kira x reader 
prompt: ghoul + restraints (monsterfucker kinktober 2022) 
summary: post-accident, izuru struggles to keep both his hunger under wraps, and his relationship intact. but as he finds the frayed edges of his control slipping, so does your presence in his life. 
word count: 6.3k omg
cw: 18+, afab reader, ghoul!au, monsters that eat humans, reader is not eaten (other people are though), mentions of starvation, suicidal ideation, blood, vomiting, forced feeding, muzzles, handcuffs, last 2k is where all the smut is tbqh—the rest is angst
Hunger, Izuru thinks, is a sensation worse than death.
He’s tasted death on his tongue–a sharp, metallic tang. Pain that swallowed him whole, that spit him back out into this world, starving. Hungering.
(He’s tasted death in another way, as well.)
But hunger is all-encompassing. All he can think about lately.
He eyes the katsu curry dish you’ve made before him. The rich brown of the curry, the crispness of the pork, the warmth of the rice–these are all things that should appeal to him. You at the very least, seem to be enjoying yourself, chattering away, spooning the curry and rice mixture into your mouth. Izuru lets a ghost of a smile grace his face. He doesn’t breathe, but the overwhelming stench of food still churns his gut. His plate remains untouched.
“Are you sure you don’t want to eat something, Izuru?” you ask again suddenly, and he’s snapped out of his daze.
“No, I’m fine. Thank you.” His smile tightens. The gnawing, expanding feeling in his stomach seems to worsen. He places a hand over his mouth, hoping to feign the illness he’d told you has been afflicting him since his hospital stay months back.
Loss of appetite. Nausea at the smell of food.
Well, one type of food.
There is another thought that occurs to him, one that he can’t voice. One that seems to increasingly haunt his day-to-day life, threatens to break the quaint domesticity the two of you have.
He could bite you. That would certainly fill his appetite.
He digs his fingernails into his palms, feeling crescents dig into his palm.
God, he could never tell you.
How could you look at him the same?
“Moved in with ‘em?” Gin drawls, his ever-present smirk on his face. Izuru hates the amusement his mentor drives from this particular situation, hates the truth of him. (The man he looked up to the most, who turned out to be nothing but a monster, who’s cursed him to this same fate.)
But why wouldn’t Gin find this funny?
Izuru is playing with fire.
“Yer’ somethin,’ aren’t’cha? Didn’t know you liked ta’ play with yer food before ya ate it~”
“They’re not food,” he says tersely, eyes trained on the way the flesh gives in beneath Gin’s hands. Gin used to mock him, say that he should be hunting for his own food, that their kind was known to get territorial. But that was before he found out the most amusing news:
That Izuru Kira post-accident is still trying to make things work with his human partner. That even more than that, he’s now living with them. The very thought seemed to be enough for him to dangle this lifeline in front of Izuru.
Izuru doesn’t even flinch as blood splatters across his face.
Izuru has always been into tragedies.
Ever since he was a kid. Ever since he’s been aware enough of his wretched existence. And if his life before the accident was act one, this was certainly the second half leading up to a tragic finale.
His hand grips the bathroom sink, leaning over it. His saliva feels stuck to the roof of his mouth, his tongue unbearably dry.
He can smell you, just beyond the shower curtain. Water slicking down your body, rivulets dipping beneath your flesh, the warm, wet musk of sweat. Izuru is so hungry, he’s starting to think his appetite pulling the strings here, and he’s a mindless puppet agreeing to its whims.
How long has it been? Two weeks, maybe three since he last saw Ichimaru? With the lockdowns in the city, it had been hard, so hard to get any source of sustenance.
Gin has his ways of course. Ways that Izuru wishes he could turn a blind eye to. He’s not completely a monster. No matter how much Gin insists they are.
Didn’t know you liked ta’ play with yer food before ya ate it, his words replay in Izuru’s mind.
When you come out of the shower, nuzzling up to him, it takes everything in him to appear relaxed. But then his gaze dips to the curve of your collarbone, the smooth softness of your skin. He’s horrified to find he has to swallow down the saliva accumulating in his mouth.
You’re not food.
You’re not food–
“You should get dressed,” he says suddenly, swallowing down the gnawing hunger inside him, threatening to take shape. He can’t. He can’t–
“Please,” he adds, shaking you off of him. You give him a hurt look, and Izuru squeezes his eyes shut. He can deal with you upset; anything is better than you knowing the truth.
And when he falls into bed with you, it takes everything in him to not lean over and bare his teeth. He lies stiffly on his side, praying to the powers above that you don’t press him.
You two haven’t been intimate in awhile, not since before the accident. He can’t trust himself, his hunger, to not act. Just the thought of your bare flesh, the faint taste of your body wash, has him near delirious.
You’re not food. You’re not food at all.
He loves you. He loves you so much he’s willing to bear the pangs of hunger just to be this close to you.
Oh, he’s such a fool.
Cohabitation tests the very limits of his control. If it’s not the shower, it’s you curled up next to him in bed, your shirt riding up, displaying a delicious sliver of your skin.
If it’s not that, it’s you kissing him, the taste of your lips on his nearly high enough to get him drunk. He has to control himself, the part of him that wants so desperately to turn his lips on your neck, into his teeth, into a bite, into gnawing—
He’s distant.
He doesn’t mean to be, but it’s tearing up at him. He downs endless amounts of coffee a day, only leaves the house to get that. At some point, even you’ve noticed his consumption, expressed concern over his increasingly gaunt visage.
You’ve noticed by now, surely you’ve noticed something is off.
Izuru eats it all. Your curry, your udon, your fried rice, anything to keep you happy. And then, when you’re busy washing dishes, he does his best to vomit it all up, the taste of bile in his throat somehow making his hunger even more pronounced.
Gin’s words reverberate in his head.
“How’s yer cute lil’ human gonna react when they find out what ya’ gotta eat to stay alive? When you take a lil nibble out of ‘em?”
“It’s a mistake, ya’ know? Humans don’t like us; they’re terrified of us, even.” He grins, a spot of blood on his chin shining in the sun.
“Is’not gonna end well.”
No. Izuru isn’t the main character of a tragedy. He’s not some forlorn Romeo, sworn to kill you by his own hand. He can overcome this, this gnawing hunger to be by you, one step at a time.
He bites down on his hand until he feels the skin tear. The way it doesn’t even null the hunger in the slightest sends him spiraling.
“W-We’re doing this now?”
Izuru hadn’t considered that you would take action. That you are just as much of a character in this play as he is. That you want something.
Him. His body. The proof that you two, your relationship, is fine. Surely you’ve noticed his distance.
Foolishly, he lets you.
He’s been so hungry. He hasn’t fed in weeks.
He would hate himself if he did something to you.
(At the same time, part of him craves this. The intimacy or your flesh–he’s not sure. He doesn’t want to know. Doesn’t want to think about how much of a monster he’s become–)
He overestimates his control.
Your neck bared before him. He can’t resist. His teeth dig into the flesh of your neck. He moans as your blood rushes hot and warm into his mouth.
You scream.
He fucked up.
Hefuckedup, hefuckedup, hefuckedup.
Izuru stares mournfully at the scene. Momo treats your wound as you sit, dazed. Your scream snapped him out of his frenzy. In a daze, he called her–thankfully, he had enough sense to. He’s not even sure how she understood his frantic voice over the phone.
There was blood, so much blood. Your blood. Everywhere. On the floor. In his mouth.
You’re shaking, gone pale. You passed out once already. From the pain? Shock? Izuru can only imagine.
He’s backed into the corner of a wall, biting down on his palm. He’s sure he must make a ghastly sight; his eyes must be pitch black, with red sclera. His mouth painted red with your blood. The look of a monster.
You’re trying your best not to stare at him. The one time you do glance over, you flinch.
Monster.
He is a monster.
He hurt you.
He tried to eat you.
He wanted to eat you, and he would have.
Momo is calmly trying to explain what’s happened to him, the accident, what he’s become. Their lifestyle. Their diet. And from the way you momentarily give her a look of fear, Izuru knows that you know she’s the same kind of monster he is.
Izuru knows he should be by your side, he should be there for you. But he’s the one who hurt you in the first place. And that very knowledge makes him want to run. Run far away, run from himself.
So he does.
When Gin finds him, bloodied and blank-stared, of course he knows what happens. It’s written all over Izuru’s face.
“Maybe it’ll be a good lesson for ya.’ Bet you were tryna create one of those tragic endings ya’ like readin’ about so much.”
Izuru says nothing, even as his mentor drags him back to his apartment. Shoves him onto the floor. Throws a slab of something in front of him.
His mouth stays shut.
The taste of you lingers on his tongue.
“Izuru? Can we… talk? You left without saying anything…”
“Izuru, I’m sorry. Momo kind of explained to me… I don’t blame you. I’m sorry for not realizing you’ve been struggling this badly with your… appetite.”
“I don’t think you’re a monster.”
“I do think I deserve some kind of closure, though.”
“Izuru, I’m getting worried. It’s been almost two weeks. The bite’s almost healed. Are you even…”
“Izuru, where are you?”
Voicemail box full. Message cannot be saved.
Izuru wants to waste away.
He doesn’t deserve to exist.
Not in this form, not if all he can do is bring harm to others.
He tries to starve. Wants to see how long his kind can survive without human flesh before wasting away. He’s scornful. He hates this life, hates his new diet.
But fate is cruel. His mentor is cruel. Gin forces bits of flesh into his mouth that keep him alive. No matter how much Izuru tries to retch it back up, to reject it… his body craves it. The satiation that floods through him after every bite disgusts him.
He’s truly a monster.
Gin is definitely amused by his predicament.
He’s so weak, he slips in and out of consciousness. Gin feeds him just enough to stay alive, but not enough to stay awake. There are images, memories that play in his mind. His subconscious cruelly reminding him of what he’d lost.
The first time you met.
(“Um, excuse me? Is this the Intro to Poetry class with Dr. Tosen?”
The two of you became class partners, sharing poetry with one another. Izuru fell in love with you from the words on the page you breathed life into. He could only hope that you felt the same, that his artistic sensitivity spoke to you.
He confessed to you with a haiku, comparing his love to a new spring day.
You were smart enough to realize that he was talking about you.)
The accident.
(Walking down the street in the dead of the night, Izuru had stayed late in the library to work on his dissertation. He’d made a breakthrough that he was excited to share with you once he got home. He didn’t see the car swerving towards him. The car clearly didn’t make out his figure in the dim streetlight.
The crash was instantaneous. The pain everywhere. Izuru’s head hit the pavement, his vision blacked out.
“Well, well, yer’ in pretty bad shape. I’d even say yer a dead man.”
The familiar voice of his advisor. He tried to open his eyes. Everything was a blur. Before he lost consciousness, the last thing he saw were Gin’s eyes. Open, for the first time. Black with red sclera.
Gin leaned down.
Pain tore into Izuru’s shoulder, ripped him anew.)
The day after.
When he awoke, all he felt was the burning pang of hunger.
It hasn’t stopped since.
“Izuru?”
A familiar voice. Smell.
A gentle nudge to his shoulder.
“Are you awake?”
Definitely familiar.
His hunger must truly be getting to him, if now he’s hallucinating about you.
“Izuru? Can you hear me?”
After all, why would you be in front of him? How would you know where he even is?
Nonetheless, a part of him wants to linger in this fantasy. One where you care enough to look for him. Where nothing bad happened. Where the two of you could still be together.
“Is he okay?”
A small furrow forms between his brows. Is someone else here? Who else would be in this fantasy–
A sharp blow to the back of his head, right above his neck. Izuru lurches forward, coughing.
“Yah, he’s fine. Just a lil’ slow is all. Lack of food, y’know? Too busy mopin’ ‘bout his own life.”
Ichimaru? Why would you and Ichimaru be in the same hallucination?
Then Izuru’s eyes snap open. Why would you and Ichimaru be in the same room? Only if you were dinner–
He swivels his head upwards, calling out your name in a panic. Only to meet your surprised face, inches from his, from where you’re kneeling in front of him.  
“Ah–” The two of you stare at each other for a beat.
Izuru calls out your name, and that breaks the moment. He’s taken aback when you wrap your arms around him. Blinking several times, he realizes that no, this isn’t a dream. The thrum of your heart next to his ear, the soft give of your body. It’s all real.
He murmurs your name. His eyes slip shut as he returns your hug, slumping against you.
The illusion of normalcy. He may as well enjoy it while it lasts.
It takes a moment for him to realize you’re talking to him.
“...I was so worried you had died or–or something worse. Do you have any idea how stressful the past few weeks have been?” you ask, pushing back from him to give him a stern look.
Izuru’s mouth feels dry now for another reason.
“I… I’m sorry,” he says weakly.
“You better be sorry, Izuru. It’s one thing to find out that you’re a… you know, but then to go weeks without hearing from you? What the hell?”
“I…” His brow furrows. This is not at all the response he expected. “I didn’t… I thought it would be better if I had…”
“What? Disappeared?” You scrutinize him, before sighing. Reaching towards him to ruffle his hair. “Look, it’s not okay to just disappear when problems occur, Izu. Haven’t we talked about this before? It makes me worry…”
“I’m sorry,” Izuru says again, because at this point that’s all he thinks he can say. He’s sorry he’s a monster. He’s sorry he’s like this. He’s sorry that he’s showing such a pitiful display in front of you. He’s sorry, he’s sorry, he’s sorry.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I didn’t know if you still wanted to… be around me. After… well…”
His gaze darts to your shoulder, which you’ve mostly covered up. A sliver of gauze peeks through, and his visage darkens. You catch his eye, shifting your shirt to better cover the wound.
“Well,” Gin says suddenly, clapping his hands. It startles you both; neither of you seem to have remembered your audience. “‘M glad yer here to get this moper outta here. Much as it was fun ta’ watch, he’s really been dampenin’ the mood all ‘round.”
Izuru jolts. “What? N-No, I can’t go back. I can’t!”
“Ya’ gotta learn how to live with humans, ya’ know? It helps ta’ stay full.” Gin gives him a sharp look.
Izuru stares at him, aghast. “What if something happens? If I… if I lose control again…” He glances towards you helplessly. “I don’t think I could live with myself,” he says lowly.
“If you get hungry,” you offer, hesitantly. “Momo left a few things you can eat. In the fridge. B-Back at my place.”
His stomach churns. He can’t imagine how awful it is for you to know what he subsists on. His diet. You must be disgusted with him. Surely.
“Well, ya’ two lovebirds, I’mma have to kick you out,” Gin interrupts. “Rangiku’s comin’ over in a few. I ain’t got all day. Kira, do yer best not to eat yer cute lil’ human this time~”
Before Izuru knows it, Ichimaru is slamming the door in both of your faces.
He worries his bottom lip with his teeth, hard enough that he can taste blood. His own. When he speaks, his voice is shaky. 
“If… if you want, I can find another friend to stay with. Momo, maybe. I understand if you don’t feel safe around me–”
You cough meaningfully. He stops, shifting awkwardly in place. 
You sigh. “Izuru… what part of ‘I’m not afraid of you’ do you not get?”
“Truthfully? All of it,” he says blandly. “I think you’re insane.” You jab him in the ribs, and he inhales sharply. “Ow. Okay, sorry. But really... why aren’t you afraid of me?” He rubs his side, a frown etched into his features. “I would be.”
“Well, I’m not.”
His look is disbelieving, and you elaborate. “I… I mean like, I kind of get it. If I was starving and had only like… almonds to eat, I would also probably chow down on the closest burger when presented before me.”
He looks horrified. You have to bite down on your lip to hold your laugh. “Sorry! That’s kind of how Momo described it to me.”
“You’re not a… burger. Or food.” He frowns. “I need to talk to Momo about her analogies…” he mutters dismally.
You laugh this time, and Izuru, despite the stress of the situation, relaxes slightly at the familiar sound. God, he’s missed it. 
“I may have taken liberties with her explanation,” you admit. Your mirth trails off as you clear your throat. “So, are you finally going to believe me when I say I want to be around you still?”
Izuru surveys you cautiously. Not to determine his answer, but to gauge your reaction.
“No.”
“That’s… very characteristic of you. I guess you won’t believe me until we’re back home and I haven’t locked you out.”
He musters up a hint of a smile to give you.
As the two of you walk home, your hand nudges his. Once. Then twice. By the third time, Izuru grasps it.
He doesn’t understand it, but you still want him.
And for now, that’s all he needs to know. 
Once the two of you are outside the door to your apartment, he tugs on your wrist.
“Look I… I can’t promise I won’t…” Izuru frowns, trying to find the words. The past few weeks have taken their toll on him mentally. “That it won’t happen again. I’m not… who you think I am. Not anymore.”
You tilt your head to the side. The action is so endearing that despite himself, Izuru reaches out, cupping your cheek with his thin fingers. He leans down, eyes dark, close enough until your noses brush against each other. 
He wants to kiss you.
He wants so badly to taste you.
But a glance at your bandaged shoulder reminds him of what he needs to do first, and he pulls back, steeling himself. 
“I couldn’t live with myself if I did something bad to you again. I don’t…” He inhales sharply. “I don’t deserve the second chance you’re giving me. But if something were to happen, please. Stop me. Do whatever it takes.” 
“Don’t show me mercy, no matter what.”
You glance askew, seeming to ponder the weight of his words. While Izuru feels relief, it’s tinged with anxiety. Maybe he’s finally finally gotten through to you. Maybe you’re regretting the decision to seek him out. 
But he’s giving you an out. A chance to turn him down. 
You don’t have to doom yourself to a fate with him. He’ll understand if you’d rather break things off here and now. Despite how much something in his gut seems to churn at the very thought. 
You can go back to your normal life, and pretend he never happened. And he can go back to trying to adjust to his new life, all while ignoring the pang in his chest whenever the thought of you crosses his mind....
“Ah!” you exclaim suddenly. Izuru looks at you curiously. “That must be why he gave me this... One second.” You rummage through your bag. “Your advisor--Ichimaru, is it?--handed this to me before we left.” You pull out the object. Izuru stares.
And stares.
It’s a muzzle.
A leather muzzle, with an intricate layout of straps and buckles. Certainly too big to fit a dog’s mouth. Perhaps meant to fit a human.
Izuru pales at the implication. “Ichimaru… gave this to you?”
“Yeah! He said he, uh...” Your voice lowers as you glance around conspiratorially. “He said he found it in a sex shop. He thought you might need it...”
Izuru suddenly feels ill. He’s certain he turns a shade of green. You catch sight of his expression and quickly clarify.
“Don’t worry! It should be unused.”
“That… that’s not the problem!” he whispers back furiously, glancing around before quickly unlocking your door. He ushers the two of you inside, hoping to the powers above that no has caught sight of or heard your indecency. 
If one of your neighbors saw you brandishing a muzzle before him… and admitting it’s from a sex shop… he doesn’t think he would ever be able to live it down.
That damn Ichimaru.
He dons it. 
Because he doesn’t trust himself, because he still can’t determine if he’s staring at you with hunger in the literal sense or hunger in the sense of wanting you close to him…. Izuru dons the muzzle.
It’s dehumanizing, but surprisingly not nearly as uncomfortable as he assumed it would be. The leather is thick, sturdily made. He can talk through it, but it’s muffled. He certainly can’t open his mouth at all to bite.
In some ways, it’s an ideal solution, he begrudgingly admits.
Before he puts it on, he does sneak some of the food Momo had left in the fridge for him, in an inconspicuous brown bag labeled with his name. He’s decided if he’s going to be around you, Ichimaru is right. He needs to make sure he’s not starving. You keep your gaze trained on the wall behind you as he eats. Izuru suggests you leave the room, not wanting you to see the ghastly sight of him, but you stay. He tries to eat quickly, discreetly. 
He leaves the room only to brush his teeth, to rid himself of the taste of blood on his mouth. For your sake. In case... he flushes at the thought. 
In case you feel like kissing him, at all.
The stress of the day seems to have gotten to you both, though, and you decide to retire early for the night. Izuru follows you to the bedroom, feeling weary from his own several weeks of psychological torment. 
Which leads to his current predicament. 
Izuru lies stiff next to you in bed. He’s turned to one side, his back to you.
You’re so warm, so soft. He can practically feel the thrum of your blood with his heightened senses.
Izuru turns towards you. You’re sleeping peacefully, your hand outstretched towards him. Your hair is in disarray, and as he watches, a bit of drool escapes your mouth.
He cracks a smile, brushing some of the hair from your face.
Izuru’s hand trails down to the shoulder he bit, and lightly skims the bandage covering your wound. Then, before he can stop himself, his hand strays even lower, until it’s hovering right above your heart. He’s never found the steady beat of your heart more comforting than he does now. It’s a sign that you’re alive. That his hunger hadn’t consumed him completely.
His eyes flutter shut as he presses his palm against your chest.
He realizes too late just what part of you he’s touching when his finger brushes against a nipple, hardened and poking through your shirt. He freezes, his hand stilling.
How long has it been since he’s felt your body against his–bared, nothing but skin against skin?
Images flash through his mind, and despite himself, Izuru’s body feels hot. His gaze trails back up to your injured shoulder, and the thought–awful as it is–occurs to him.
What if he gave you a matching bite on the other side?
Izuru shakes his head to rid himself of the thought. He shifts uncomfortably. Heat pools down to below his gut, where it simmers.  
Of all the times to get an erection, certainly the worst was while trying not to devour your loved one.
Izuru signs through the muzzle, adjusting himself once more. He wills himself to think of the most painful things he can–his accident, Gin’s shopping escapades, that time Momo dropped a bowling ball on his foot.
Maybe it’s his proximity to you. Maybe it’s the inherent deviancy of needing restraints to not ravish you–in which way, he wasn’t sure. 
But Izuru revisits the thought of biting you, one that disturbed him only a few moments ago. Yet now… it seems different. Rather than his literal desire for your flesh Izuru realizes the appeal of the idea of biting you can be sexual. 
Marking you. Letting everyone know that you’re his. Leaving physical proof of his love on your flesh.
His.
His lover.
Offering themselves up to him. 
Letting him back into their life, even knowing of his monstrous nature.
Allowing him to feast on them, both literally and carnally.
Izuru inhales sharply. He flexes his thighs, pressing his hips against the band of his boxers. He’s so turned on, it’s starting to hurt. He briefly considers taking care of himself in the bathroom, in privacy. Where he can’t disturb you.
You’re so tired. He’s already inconvenienced you this far. He can’t bother you with something as trivial as this. 
Izuru tries his best to escape the bed quietly, but it creaks under his weight. You’ve never been a light sleeper, but suddenly you’re awake, your voice cutting through the fog of his desire. 
“Izuru? You okay?”
“Mmf.” He tries to say yes, but it’s muffled through the muzzle. It’s too late. You’re already turning on the lights. You give him a once-over, and Izuru’s whole body flushes once your eyes are drawn to his groin. He glances down, and his worst fears are realized. A wet patch stains the front of his boxers. Mortification washes through him.
“Oh. Um…”
He shakes his head furiously, grabbing a pillow to hide his shame. This isn’t what it looks like! He isn’t some pervert that gets off to being bound! But his own body betrays him.
“I didn’t know these kinds of things turned you on, Izuru,” you finally say.
He wants to die of embarrassment. Is it too late to go back to Gin’s place?
Scratch that. Ichimaru was the one who bought this damn muzzle in the first place.
“It’s… it’s okay. It’s been awhile since we’ve done anything. Plus with what’s happened lately… it makes sense that you’re… you know. Pent-up?”
Nope, nope it doesn’t. Izuru doesn’t want to discuss his bodily functions right now. Not when he’s still stiff, not when he was about to take care of it himself, without burdening you. 
He jerks his head towards the bathroom door, resolutely refusing to glance at you. 
But you reach out, before pausing. Your hand brushes his wrist holding the pillow to himself. You tilt your head. “Can I help?”
Izuru stares at you, uncomprehending. 
“Like… I mean. I wouldn’t mind helping you out there,” you say, your gaze darting to the pillow before back up at him. Seeking permission. 
Izuru weighs his options. 
Is it more pitiful to bother you with his bodily needs? Or to be jerking off in the bathroom alone after declining his lover’s offer to help?
He can’t decide. But eventually he nods. 
After you stare at him expectantly for several seconds, he realizes that he needs to uncover himself. Right.
He drops the pillow uncertainly, and to your credit, you don’t look down. His hands fumble with the sides his boxers, before tugging them down. He doesn’t know why—you two have definitely seen each other naked before, a few times, in fact—but something about this feels like new territory. 
He finally yanks them down completely. His cock springs up, a trail of precome sticking to his underwear. He grimaces, but your eyes seem drawn to the sight. Izuru shuffles towards the bed, nearly tripping over his boxers. He stumbles, face turning red beneath the mask as he kicks them off the rest of the way. Unsure of how to position himself, he settles for half-kneeling on the bed with one leg, standing with the other. 
Your hand on his cock is sudden, and nearly has him toppling over. It’s been so long, and your hand is so soft, your grip so sure. Izuru hisses through the muzzle, bucking his hips into your touch. You stroke him, tugging his foreskin over the weeping head of his cock, and Izuru’s eyes near roll into the back of his head. 
As you pump him, he realizes belatedly that the soft, keening sounds are coming from him, which he soon silences.
“Aw~ I liked hearing you,” you tease. He flushes.
Your mouth lapping at the tip of his cock nearly has him cumming right then and there. As it is, his balls clench, and he doubles over, grasping your hand. 
“Hm?” you ask. He shakes his head rapidly. “Oh, close?”
He nods.
“Want me to stop?”
“Mnn,” he says. Yes. He doesn’t want to finish so soon when it’s your first time together in awhile. He tugs at the strap of your shirt, and you get the hint. After you discard the shirt, he gestures at your panties.
“Wanna be inside?”
He nods tersely, his eyes trained keenly on the sight of your pussy being revealed to him. Your folds glisten as you remove your panties, strings of your arousal sticking to the fabric. Even through the leather muzzle, he can smell you, needy and wet for him. It makes his cock throb.
Izuru wastes little time in mounting you, his hands digging into the bedsheets as he positions himself over you. He thrusts, and your combined juices make him glide right past your entrance. He huffs in annoyance, and your hand comes down to grasp his length. Carefully you guide him into you, the both of you inhaling sharply once he thrusts all the way, until his hips meet yours. 
This time Izuru’s eyes do roll to the back of his head. Fuck. Has he felt anything more divine? He’d write odes to how good you feel around him.
Izuru thrusts slowly, dragging his cock along your entrance before sinking back in. He’s breathing harshly through his mask. Your walls clench tight around him, drawing him in, refusing to let go. 
He’d be a fool if he did. 
His cock rubs against a certain spot inside you, and you clench around him particularly tight. He grunts, pleasure building in his balls. Fuck, he’s close. 
His hands grip your sheets tightly, balling them into fists.
Not mindful of his newfound strength from feeding so recently.
Riiiip.
Fabric tears beneath you. 
The both of you still at the sound. Izuru releases his fists, and torn shreds of your bedsheets flutter onto the bed.
Your jaw drops.
He looks mortified. He slips out of you.
You turn around to survey the damage. While your bedsheet is mostly intact, there are two giant, jagged tears ripped across it. 
“Did you…”
Izuru hangs his head. He is truly a beast now. 
“Hey, i-it’s okay! Um, he said this also might happen... Can you pass me my bag?” Izuru reaches down to grab it, handing it to you. You rummage through it. “It’s a good thing your advisor also gave me these,” you say, before pulling out a pair of--a pair of--
Izuru stares blankly at the item in your hand.
First the muzzle. Now handcuffs.
Steel handcuffs.
Surely, Ichimaru knew these wouldn’t be used for innocent reasons only. The fact that he knows about his sex life--knows enough that he figured Izuru would lose control and would need these things--makes him want to perish. 
His cock flags a bit, truthfully.
You notice Izuru’s despair, and shrug, attempting to brighten the mood. 
“I mean, if it comes in handy...”
Dully, he reaches his hands out to you, allows you to cuff him. He’ll try his best to will the thought of Ichimaru out of the bedroom. Even if the thought of his advisor knowing the intimate details of his sex life threatens to ruin the mood.
Izuru shakes his head to rid himself of the thoughts. Once he’s bound, you have him lie on his back. Ah. It is harder for him to be on top now, he supposes.
“Everything good?”
He nods stiffly, still not quite over his mortification. You seem to realize that you’ll have to get him back into the mood, and you settle between his legs, spreading his thighs apart. 
“Relax, Izu. Keep your focus on me, okay?”
Your mouth descends on him again. He attempts to do as you instruct, but finds it difficult. With how skilled you are--lapping at the tip of his cock, hands pumping him at the base, stroking him to full hardness again--he finds pressure building once again at the base of his cock. He adjusts his hips, accidentally thrusting deeper into your throat. His toes curl into the now-ruined bedsheets as you choke.
He’s frantically offering muffled apologies through the muzzle, but you wave them off, wiping spit from your chin. You straddle his hips, sliding your slick against his cock. He struggles against the handcuffs, wanting desperately to guide himself back into you. 
Izuru leans his head back once he finally feels your wet, hot pussy engulf his stiff cock, the muscles in his neck straining. 
He shudders, jerking his hips up into you. Your hands find purchase on his thighs as you push yourself up, before dropping yourself onto his cock. Grinding your hips against his, you lean down. He lifts his cuffed hands up, and you slip under them, burying your face into his neck. Izuru can’t kiss you, but he nudges his muzzle against your head, dropping his hands to hold you to him. 
He rolls his hips against yours, inching in deeper. Your mewls and soft moans are ambrosia he would gladly get drunk on.
“Oh god, Izu… you feel so good.”
Is he making you feel good? He bets he could make you feel better. He digs his heels into the bed, flexing his hips, his cock aiming for that spot inside you that has you moaning loud, clenching tight around him. “Fuck!” you exclaim.
You hump him, working yourself towards your own orgasm. Izuru’s eyes flutter shut, his brow tensing. He’s breathing hard again. His hands flex against the cuffs, wanting desperately to remove them; his teeth dig into the muzzle, wishing it was off.There are so many things he wants to do to you that he can’t. 
Grasp your hips, make you ride him harder. Cup your face, kiss you deeply, whisper praises of how beautiful you look above him. Wrap you in his arms, and thrust into you, deeply enough that your bodies meld together.
But there’s time for that. Practice. Patience. He yearns for the day he can be with you, like this, without these kinds of barriers. 
For now though, he’ll try to make the most of them. 
You’re gasping and moaning his name, and you press your lips to his forehead, the one part of his face that you can access. The muzzle digs uncomfortably into your neck, but Izuru keeps you to him, his hips moving more fervently now. They’re bucking up into you, aiming with deadly precision at the spot that has you spiraling. 
When you cum, it’s with a stuttering cry of his name. 
“Izuru! Fuck. I love you.”
“Mmph!” Your pussy clenches hard around him, and Izuru loses it. His vision goes white from the intensity of his orgasm. He thrusts into you as deeply as he can. Spilling himself into you in spurts, until you’re overflowing with him, until it’s dribbling out and back onto him in milky trails.
Tiredly, he clutches you to him. He’s more exhausted now than he’s been in the past two weeks. The cuffs dig into his wrists, and he has to adjust them.
You shift until your face is level with his. Izuru flinches as the movement causes his softening cock to slip out from inside you. 
Your fingers card through his sweaty locks, brushing the hair from his face. 
“I do love you,” you tell him earnestly. “Human or not.”
Izuru tries to draw you closer to him. You notice the awkward movements from his cuffed hands, and unlock them. Now freed, he holds you to him closely, his chin resting on your head. 
You don’t need to hear him to tell what he’s thinking. 
I feel the same. 
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