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forever--darling · 1 year

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na’viyä hapxì — one of the people | neteyam x avatar!reader

summary: you have your ceremony to become apart of the clan after finally telling kiri everything that's been going on. neteyam is forced to deal with his feelings as he realizes he might be losing you to someone else.

pairings: neteyam x avatar!reader

word count: 11.9k (I have no self-control at this point. seriously I still have a part or two left to write)

warnings/notes: i am so sorry, slow burn continues, swearing, major angst, fighting, mention of blood, mention of sky people, forest destruction, confrontation of feelings, a smidge of fluff but not much, one step closer to the end

series masterlist | one of us: part five | requests are currently open for now

This was supposed to be the start of your new life but all you could think about at that second was how Lo’ak was gripping your face and saying all of the things that somehow left the opposite feeling in your stomach than it should have. Maybe because it was Lo’ak saying it or maybe it was the fact that he was admitting that he would settle for you. It made you cringe, the wording, the confession that he would rather settle for you than anyone else. It made you want to completely claw at the insides of your brain, hoping that if desperate enough and boiling with an unmistakable rage, you could rip the memory free from your mind.

No one should ever want to settle for anyone and it left you trying to swallow the knot inside your throat. Even if it had come from a good place with the intention to give two lonely people the possibility of a future, the delivery was cruel. To top it off, you were late, the sun had completely set over the mountain, leaving the sky in total darkness. The freckles upon Lo’ak’s nose and forehead were glowing, taking your attention, appearing similar to the stars above as his once sun-kissed eyes lazily trace your face.

That’s all you could think about as your Ikran landed in the base of the village, his landing next to yours a second later. His eyes were too much like his brother's and it was grueling. If you focused on them long enough, it was like it was Neteyam there instead of Lo'ak. But then you were reminded of the look in them, something unmatched and desolate. There was a certain glint within his olive-green irises that was missing as if when he stared down at you there was an emptiness deep within the confines and walls of his chest.

As soon as your feet landed on the ground, you were desperate to escape, an appalling pull in your stomach as you took off towards the center of the village. You felt the pounding in your head ultimately increase as all air was pulled from your lungs at the sight of the village. So many people. The whole clan in fact gathered, waiting. Waiting for you. Deep breath in. Then out.

It was nauseating how many people were there and almost annoying how close you could feel Lo'ak walking behind you. As if his presence was trying to remind you of his words all over again. His words felt like they were squeezing your heart in its palm sickeningly watching as the organ withered in its grip.

Approaching the large old tree that hovered over the village almost like Home Tree once did, your steps faltered as you found Kiri standing outside, her arms crossed over her chest and toe-tapping against the dirt. Your steps increased, desperation forming for her to see her brother lurching on your back and your sanity and remove him instantly.

When her eyes met yours, she was pushing herself up off the side of the tree and hurried towards you in slight disbelief but then when she found Lo’ak behind you, she could only roll her eyes, “Why am I not surprised?”

“Hi, Kiri,” Lo’ak replied sweetly, waving his hand with a chester-like grin on his face.

“Oh shut it, I should have known she wouldn’t have been late to her own ceremony unless someone else was involved,” she shot daggers at her brother and wondered how much it would take for him to collapse overcome by his sister's indisputable irritation.

Kiri's hand tightly took a hold of your arm beginning to lead you into the hollowed-out tree, the fragrance of oak and amber brought a tickle to the base of your nose, “And you, we have to start getting you ready.”

“Oh relax, we made it didn’t we?"

Lo'ak's tone sliced through the air and you felt the disbelief warp around your insides and tighten. They felt as if they were boiling, hot from his obliviousness to the situation. Because even if he was trying to do something sweet, his reasoning behind it all was so wrong. You decided to ignore him and his sister seemed to do the same as she began to fiddle with the ends of your hair. His stare was just as empty as it had been the hour before

You looked away, instead hoping to find solace or an ounce of reassurance in your surroundings, within the tree filled with candles, tapestries, beads, everything that could be certified as sacred. You had never been inside before and you found yourself admiring it rather than his blank stare.

Hearing the way his mouth parted like a gaping fish in water, you felt your shoulders stiffen. Out of fear that he was about to spill the soul-wrenching words you had yet to even process yourself. The last thing you could deal with was him spouting them out proudly like an idiot to someone else as if he had already claimed you.

Luckily, before he could say anything or reveal the sour secrets of your life, his voice shrunk back into his throat and his ears flattened softly at something else entirely. A chuckle verberated from your lips as you peered over to find the exact cause of Lo'ak's silence.

His father. Jake Sully stood near the doorway, his hands balanced on his hips, dressed as if displaying power was his only goal on this planet. A look filled his eye that you had come to know extremely well as if he was forcefully trying to draw everyone's attention and completely intimidate his youngest son.

“Hey Dad,” Lo’ak waved timidly, gulping as Jake approached him and firmly took a hold of his shoulder.

“Outside, now,” Jake commanded, voice cutting through the room, leaving a silence that was deafening. He couldn't look away from Lo'ak with an undermined idea that the teenager would have vanished from his sight if he did. Not sparing anyone a glance, he dragged Lo'ak out of the room.

Kiri acting as if it hadn't happened began to undo the braids in your hair. With the two of you left alone, you had a feeling her silence was only temporary. With her fingers loosening around the third one, you felt her grip disappear. You sighed, somehow guilt of your own crawling up out of your throat even though you weren’t entirely sure what you were guilty of.

The possibilities could have been endless at that point. Guilt had formed because of too many far-fetched reasons that were tightly wound up in your head. Could it have appeared, because you were spending more time with your best friend's brothers rather than giving her a second of your time? Or was it because of the unmistakable fear of the reality outside of your Pandora bubble — the ignored sickness of your human body? Or worst of all could this guilt eating away at you be from the less-than-innocent desire that had taken over you for her older brother — the one man you knew you could never have?

“Kiri, whatever it is just ask?” you said suddenly, taking in a deep breath, “Please.”

She continued with your hair but this time let her thoughts fall freely off her tongue, “What was that all about? Showing up late to your own ceremony? And with Lo’ak. Really?”

You sighed, the frustration was evident in your voice, and somehow you found yourself nervous to tell her of the conversation that you had had with him, “It was nothing out of the ordinary.”

“So, he was just trying to flirt with you. That’s all it was?” she asked, cautiously, her fingers carding through your hair gently unable to look away from the way your thumbs were fiddling with one another in your lap, “I thought you were immune to his advances. You haven’t fallen for it have you?”

Your answer was without hesitation, “Of course not.”

“Then what is going on?” Kiri’s hands suddenly dropped from your hair and turned you around to face her. It was as if she could hear through Eywa that something was plaguing your heart. Like something had been affecting you for a while and she just hadn’t seen any of the signs. “Look, I know my brothers have been occupying all of your time lately, but that doesn’t mean I still don’t care about you. And if something is bothering you, I want to be able to help.”

Taking in a deep breath, you exhaled, gold eyes suddenly meeting hers with a certain unsureness laced within yours. Your hands were almost shaking as every anxiety you thought you had shoved far away seemed to resurface.

She suddenly took both of your hands in hers, eyes wide and lips curled softly into a small smile, her expression reflecting comfort back at you, “Y/N, just tell me.”

“Tonight,” your voice cracked and you cleared your throat as everything came racing back to you, “After we had been flying, we stopped on this mountain and… Lo’ak, he asked me if I wanted to be his mate.”

Her mouth parted in shock, a small noise of disapproval seemed to fall from them as her eyes widened even further, “He what?”

“He asked me to—”

“Yes, I heard you the first time,” she cut you off, her mouth closing and then dropping open again, “But he is too young to even be…”

As her voice trailed off, you nodded agreeing with her words. Lo’ak was only seventeen and Neytiri and Jake had made it perfectly clear to their children that they advised them to wait until they were eighteen before making plans. Wait until they decided on a mate, plus in Lo’ak’s case, he wasn’t sure if the decision was even his. If Neteyam didn’t have the choice, why would he? Sure, for his older brother Olo’eyktan was at stake but their parents’ decision was safer in their eyes than letting their young adult sons make the choice for themselves. He had automatically assumed that if Neteyam wouldn’t have the option neither would he.

“And tonight he asked you to…”

All breath left her again and her shock was smacked across her face displaying perfectly how you had felt too when it had happened. You nodded again, “Yes.”

“But wait,” she squeezed your hands, “He knows better. We all know that our mother has clearly stated that it isn’t allowed, at least not while you are still a dream walker. Why would he even… Y/N?”

You watched slowly as the confusion had overtaken her face and just as quickly left as she spoke out loud, trying to wrap her head around this occurrence. Within a matter of seconds, she realized that Lo’ak would not have openly asked you this unless there was a way this would be allowed. She knew her brother and despite him having broken many rules in the past, she also knew that for something this serious he would be more considerate. In fact something as serious as mates, he would not decide rationally.

“What would lead Lo’ak to ask this?”

“Maybe the fact that,” your voice was unsteady, pausing just as the truth was tiptoeing across your tongue, “He knew I went and visited Mo’at. And that I asked her about the consciousness transfer.”

“You did what?” her voice had hardened, turning cold as her hands had seemed to slip out of yours possibly out of shock, disappointment, or both. The exact reaction you were expecting. “Y/N!”

She shook her head, the fear of one of two outcomes appearing in her mind. You do the ritual and somehow pass through Eywa's eyes and be reborn or you do the ritual and have your presence accepted to be with The Great Mother forever. It was the latter that filled Kiri with the worst possible fear. However, this wasn't the first time this situation had crossed her mind — you admitting that you wanted to do the consciousness transfer to become one of them.

It was a possibility that had been living in her mind far longer than anyone could realize. Since the moment she had first seen you in your avatar body. It was the glimmer in your eye, this type of glow that seemed to surround you that none of them had ever seen before. It was there that very first night; in your smile, your clumsy steps, eyes constantly searching to absorb every part of the forest you saw. As you spent more time in the forest, in the village, with her people, with Neteyam, Kiri realized that the glow around your head only seemed to increase. She was afraid that this could happen, but she never thought it would. Almost as if she relied on your intelligence and common sense to distract you from the alluring double life you were currently living.

“What were you thinking?” Kiri found her voice, and the betrayal and pain heard in it seemed to crack not only your spirits but a part of your soul, “Y/N, you know how dangerous the transfer is and how rarely it even is successful. Eywa is very careful when it comes to requests and she is far more complex than you realize.”

“I know Kiri,” you admitted, bowing your head as if you were a child being scolded.

“Really? Because I think if you truly understood that. If Neteyam had made any of it perfectly clear to you, or if you had listened to anything we’ve been telling you for the last seven years you wouldn’t have put in that request to Mo’at.”

“No, Kiri, you don’t understand. It didn’t matter what you or anyone else said to me, I still would have gone to Mo’at and requested the transfer ritual.”

“Why?” her brows knitted together, the word sounded so spiteful on her tongue and it was foreign in her own ears.

She had never talked this way to anyone, let alone you, her best friend all throughout childhood. Somehow though she knew kindness was sometimes for the weak of heart and her feelings in that moment were completely justified. Led by the thought of possibly losing you had activated every nerve in her body to act out in a fight or flight response and with that came anger and the need to be vitriolic to you.

You sighed, taking a step back from her as your own arms found a place wrapped around your waist, a conditioned action from your childhood that had transferred even into your avatar body. You felt the tears begin to cloud your eyes, and you silently cursed yourself for letting this get to you during a time that was supposed to be celebratory.

Finally, meeting her eyes again, you broke down your walls and let the feelings you had been trying to make sense of for far too long go, “I can’t go on like this forever. Can’t you see? How one of these days when either the technology fails or our resources finally diminish themselves, I won’t be able to keep doing this. My life will alter completely.”

As you paused, behind your eyes it was like you had bonded back to your human body. A pale body being pumped full of liquid solutions with dullness to its eyes. All you could feel was weakness — the only thing that was left within it. “Not to mention the stress from the link pod would become too much for my body. I would have to give up one, and I prefer that it wouldn’t be this one.”

Her hands reached out and took a hold of your elbows, reasoning the only thing she could think to do to calm you down or to better change your mind. She smiled softly but it was laced with a kind of grief you hadn’t seen before. “Y/N, when and if that day comes, we can get you readjusted. We can teach you the ways to handle the forest in your human body and get enough oxygen supply for you. Spider can help—”

“I don’t want Spider’s help,” you snapped, fangs barring for a moment before you recoiled into yourself all emotions dropping from your face, “You don’t get it, Kiri. What I have outside of this village, outside of this body is not a life. I sit around day after day looking out of a glass box at a world that is right in front of me. A world I will never be able to have, not like this, not like I have now. That isn’t living and I am running out of time. Please, try to understand. There isn’t enough time to try and make up for it with my human body.”

“Y/N,” Kiri’s grip on your elbows tightened, her eyes dancing across your face trying to decipher the meaning of your words as all that she could hear ringing in her ears was that you didn’t have the time.

Before she could spend too long on it though, you were speaking again with a deflated look appearing on your face, “But you don’t have to worry because clearly, Eywa does not see me as one that is worthy. Mo’at turned down the request. And you won’t have to worry about me and Lo’ak either because you and I both know I could never go through with it.”

Though relief flooded her system, the brokenness of your expression brought out other feelings in her. Mostly of sadness as she watched how quickly that glow you had was diminishing into nothing but a dull perspective on life. That rare magic that seemed to fill you, that most people couldn’t even acknowledge as being real or possible, was slowly being ripped out of you.

She took a deep breath, feeling your disappointment reverberating off of your very being. Somehow as she processed your words, she couldn’t help but think that it wasn't entirely true. Eywa’s heart beats loudly in her ears and often it’s like her soul can hear the Great Mother’s voice. Kiri had quickly learned what it meant for Eywa to not accept something or to not agree with something — it didn’t feel like this.

“You could never go through with it because of the request being denied?” Kiri finally asked, deterring the conversation to Lo’ak and what he had asked you. The very thing he should have never asked you in the first place.

As she asked it though, you became silent, your hands gaining your attention rather quickly. Within that moment, where you stared down at your ten fingers that matched the two Sully children's, you realized that even if the transfer request had been accepted by Eywa and approved by Mo’at, that wasn’t why you couldn’t go through it. Even if you became fully Na’vi, you knew fully in your heart that you couldn’t accept Lo’ak’s offer to settle. It was never about the transfer ritual at all, but rather about someone.

“Or you could never go through with it because of Neteyam?” Kiri asked, and your eyes flickered up as if she had read your mind or, better, your silence.

Brows furrowing together in confusion, your eyes widened slightly in surprise, “How did you—”

“You really think no one has noticed, Y/N?” she smiled, a small laugh escaping as her hand reached up to brush the braids in your face, which she still had to undo, behind your ear, “It’s like the whole world has tilted on its axis and you act as if it hasn’t. It’s all there in front of us; the stolen glances, how his previous frustration has changed into protectiveness, him sneaking out every night to see you even when he spent most of the day with you, the light touches here and there that happen so quick like a blink of an eye, the way you look at him. I can keep going, there’s plenty more.”

Your head tilted down, face flushing completely to a dark hue and it was all the confirmation she needed. Meeting her soft smile, you reached up to take her hand in yours, remorse the only way to describe you, “I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“Of course not,” Kiri chuckled, her hand squeezing yours, “No one ever does. It’s cute though, you and Neteyam.”

You shook your head then denying her words, her acknowledgment of your feelings, “No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

She watched as the glow seemed to dull even further as your broken expression met hers, voice soft as you spoke, “There can never be a me and Neteyam. You know that, Kiri. He is the future Olo’eyktan and there is a plan for his life. One where his mate will be chosen for him. It’s a life that I can’t be a part of.”

Her expression dropped, a smile falling from her lips as her hand cradled your face softly fully preparing herself to wipe the tears from your face. Her mouth parted as if she was about to say something, comfort you maybe, deny your claim, or worse accept that it was the truth and what would inevitably happen. You would never know though as her eyes flickered up behind you, something catching her eye. Her hands fell from your frame and her soft smile returned.

Confused, you watched as she nodded in the direction behind you, your name falling off her tongue as if it was a sweet melody, “Y/N.”

Cautiously, you turned around, worried that someone had somehow and someway heard what you had said, all of it including the confession about the future Olo’eyktan. You felt your anxiety slip away into the night as you found the man himself entering the tree, his eyes only set on you.

Then a new kind of anxiety formed, and your heart rate sped up, as you took him in. He was already dressed for the ceremony with the most extravagant necklaces, arm bands, and clothing just as his father had been. Hair freshly braided, it swung from side to side as he stalked forward, a look in his eye you couldn’t entirely unravel. He was slightly out of breath as if he had been running, a thin layer of sweat gathering across his shoulders and the side of his face.

Kiri took a small step back as Neteyam stopped in front of you, his hands instantly reaching out to take your arms. His palms were rough against your skin as he began to scan you from head to head, a tight frown stitched onto his face paired with his eyebrows knitted together.

His gold eyes could even be described as scary and you wondered if you had gotten a sliver of the past. If the old Neteyam was standing in front of you and was about to lecture you for being late to your own ceremony. Instead, when his golden gaze found yours again, they softened for a millisecond and the look was gone again just as quickly.

“I am going to kill him,” Neteyam growled under his breath, voice deep enough to reach inside of you and hollow out your entire body of any other feelings that once resided there. Suddenly, all you could think about was him and the way he was holding you.

An arm's length away, he continued to scan your body for any markings or injuries that hadn’t been there before. You realized then that this look on his face, this intensity and anger wasn’t towards you for being late, but towards his younger brother, who was supposed to be responsible for you. Lo’ak was the reason behind this reaction and clearly, the sight of his younger brother being scolded by his father near their tent had sent him into a rage. “Are you okay?”

Your insides fluttered at the way his tone had shifted completely in a matter of seconds. This was a side of him you felt you had never seen before, and it was like that paired with the way you were staring up at him like a lovesick puppy had been enough to prove to Kiri that everything she had said was completely true.

“Yes, I am fine.”

Your words had broken his spell and his stare hardened again, his anger towards his brother returning full-fledge, “How could he be so stupid? He knew what time the ceremony was and he kept you out there until dark anyway. It was completely selfish. And if something happened…”

His voice had trailed off as if he couldn’t even think about it, let alone say it. He was playing a dangerous game with your heart, evident in the way the strings seemed to be getting pulled with everything he did or say. You reached out, your hands connecting with his chest, and he felt all air get pushed out from the sudden contraction of his diaphragm due to the warm touch.

“Neteyam, I am fine, okay? And Lo'ak didn't mean any harm by it.”

“Yeah, just having fun right? Uh, I shouldn’t have let him go. It should have been me up there with you. I know better than letting him go off without someone who is responsible. It’s like he doesn’t have a conscious when he flies and he's seventeen for fucks sake."

“Stop. Okay, this is not your fault, Lo’ak is his own person who makes his own decisions. There is nothing to even stress about because we’re fine. We are both fine,” you said, thinking carefully about your next words, “You know how it is. You get up there, and suddenly you’re flying for hours—”

“And never want to come down, I know,” he finished your thought.

“You know, you can be too hard on him sometimes,” you said, and at your words, you felt him pull back, not only from you defending Lo'ak but at the way you had sounded so much like his mother talking to his father.

He couldn't respond but instead, let his worry fade slightly. However, you watched as the previous panicked look still remained in his eyes and you realized then that this was more than just a reaction to you being out later than expected. There was more to his response and anger towards his younger brother than just making him late for your ceremony. The way he was still gripping you in his hands was all the confirmation you needed.

“What is it?”

His ears perked up at your question, watching as your hands fell from his chest. The concern soon filled your eyes too. Cautiously, you asked again, “What’s going on?”

He then glanced around you at his sister, who was staring at him expectantly. Kiri stepped forward and raised a brow in his direction, “Neteyam?”

With your head tilted up at him, you pushed every flutter, every thrilling feeling he stirred in you away. That's how scared you got when you looked at the expression on his face and the paling of his skin. You watched as his expression set in and let his guard down — that facade of being the perfect little soldier disappeared and all you had staring back at you was a worried young man.

Before he could respond, footsteps caught all of your attention. Neytiri appeared just as furious as Neteyam had moments ago. Behind her, Tuk followed oblivious to all the feelings that were being thrown around the room. At the sight of them, his hands dropped from your arms and he took a step back putting distance between the two of you. You ignored how the simple action played with your feelings because you knew you would have to get used to it — the lack of his physical touch. You were brought back out of your daze, your eyes finally leaving the side of Neteyam’s face as you felt a more petite body collide with yours.

Tuk was hugging you and hesitantly, you wrapped your arms around her. It was the only warm feeling left you could actively acknowledge. Neytiri let out a breath of relief at the sight of you, “Oh Great Mother, you’re here, finally.”

She walked straight by her son who now found the ground much more interesting to look at than you. His walls were back up just like that as the strong soldier he was supposed to be and you all were forced to revert your attention to the importance at hand; your ceremony. His silence was so loud though, it was the only thing that could hold your attention.

“I am sorry Neytiri to have kept you all waiting.”

“Shush,” she stepped forward, hand brushing across your shoulder. She hissed then underneath her breath, her ears flattening slightly, “I pray for the strength that I will not pluck the eyeballs out of my youngest son.”

The mention of Lo’ak had your shoulders dropping, the guilt beginning to swallow you that they once again put all the blame on him. As if you were nothing but an innocent child who didn’t know any better, they looked to him expectantly — all of their protectiveness of you overshadowing the poor treatment they were giving him. Even if he had kept you out far later than he should have, he was unworthy of the treatment they were giving him, Toruk Makto’s son or not.

“We need to start getting you ready,” she said then, moving to continue what Kiri had already started with your hair. Her fingers quickly but gently began to undo the remaining braids. Her eyes then flickered up to her oldest son who stood nearby stealing glances at you.

She raised her eyebrow expectantly at him and as if he was about to leave, her husband came barreling into the room but with no Lo’ak following after him. Instead, the younger boy stood outside, leaning against the opening, arms crossed over his chest, and face pulled into a scowl. Jake hesitated from addressing Neteyam as he saw you standing before his wife, luckily unharmed.

Stepping forward, his large palm ghosted over your cheek, that Olo’eyktan look about him faltering slightly, “You okay?”

Your eyes narrowed and you found yourself glancing from him back to his son. Neteyam was already looking at you, his soft gaze completely hidden in front of his parents. You glanced between the two of them and somehow you just knew. They were all keeping it from you and based on their reactions, whatever it was it couldn’t have been good in the slightest.

“Yes, I am fine,” you said, voice wavering slightly as Jake’s hand dropped from you.

Neytiri continued with your hair and all of the women watched as Jake took Neteyam by the shoulder and guided him a few feet away. They both had lowered their voices but even with his efforts, you all were able to hear every word, “Immediately after the ceremony we go, do you hear me, boy? We can’t waste any more time so as soon as it’s over, we call the Ikrans.”

“Yes, sir,” Neteyam nodded, and you felt your heart spike in your chest.

It seemed Neytiri wasn’t entirely aware of the situation either as her movements slowed down and she looked up at her husband questioningly about what exactly he was ordering their son to do. Her eyes narrowed, and the motherly protectiveness built into her DNA showed. She called out to her husband and the two men became tense at her voice. Slowly they both looked up, hesitant about what they should and shouldn’t say. She only saw this seriousness when Jake began to channel his marine side and she felt her stomach prick nervously at how he stepped forward as if he was going to prepare her.

“What’s going on?”

He sighed, “We’ve gotten word that there are sky people close to the border. Far closer than ever before.”

Neteyam glanced over at you trying to gauge your reaction and you felt your whole body stiffen — out of dread, fear of a reality where maybe this would be the end of your avatar form. If another war was going to break out, there would be no room and no safety for you to keep entering the link pod every day. It would all be over and with you still being very much one of them, one of the sky people, you could get shunned from the village.

Jake stepped forward though and tried to ease her worries, “I’ve gotten word that it’s only a few. There is nothing to worry about yet, okay? After the ceremony, Neteyam and I will gather the Ikrans and go see what’s going on. We will be spotting, nothing else.”

Your mouth parted, unable to stop how you instantly looked at Neteyam. When he caught your eye and your expression, he couldn’t help but look away — away from the fear slapped across your face. Neytiri nodded but a part of her still couldn’t let it go, “If it is only a few can’t you order someone else to do it?”

Jake shook his head, “I need to see this for myself to better assess the situation. It’ll be fine, I promise you.”

“And Lo’ak?” Neytiri asked.

“I talked to him, he knows what he needs to know about the situation. Keep an eye on him though when we leave, I can’t have that boy doing anything else stupid.”

Tuk was still wrapped around your body and you felt the way she turned her head into your stomach, trying so hard to understand everything her parents were saying. Jake glanced down at his youngest daughter and knew he probably shouldn’t have said anything in front of her but it couldn’t wait. To avoid Neytiri worrying about it later or feeling blindsided, he needed to say it and somehow the children being present was just unexpected collateral damage. You hugged her tighter to your form, hands rubbing her back softly.

“It’s getting late,” Jake acknowledged, glancing at Neteyam and then back to his wife.

Neytiri nodded, knowing that with time now more important, she had to turn off everything that worried her — every fear or possibility of the worst occurring. Instead, she pushed it all down away with the pain and the grief where she built her strength. As if it hadn’t been the most terrifying news she had heard in years, she pushed it all down and focused on the moment right in front of them. You and your ceremony. Before anything else, that must be completed first and have all of their attention.

She clicked her tongue in the direction of the exit nodding to the two men and accepting her wish, they turned to leave. Neteyam was hesitant for a moment, his eyes scanning over you one more time before he followed after his father. A look you all had noticed. Neytiri glanced from him to you, brows furrowed for a brief moment. She let it go though, deciding not to think about what it meant. Instead, she released your hair from the last braid and ran her fingers through the soft waves.

Kiri went to gather the newly beaded top she had made for you and Tuk released you to follow after her sister. Neytiri smoothing out your hair moved to face you. As she looked down at you, you couldn’t help but notice that her eyes appeared far more gentle than you would have ever thought they would be when looking at you. As much as you had changed, matured, and begun to see the world differently, so did she.

She had learned to accept you as everyone else had and slowly realized how right her husband had been about everything — you, your past, and the hold you seemed to have on her children after all these years. Your heart was kind and strong and belonged among them more than she had ever realized.

She smiled, “How are you feeling? Ready?”

“Yes,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper as you stared over at the beautiful woman who wasn’t that much taller than you.

It was then that Neytiri realized how grown up you were, almost nineteen with an entire life ahead of you within the village. She took notice of how more and more every day you began to appear less like a girl and more like a woman. Even with you only having the avatar for less than a year, she could see how evident the changes were before you. And it all started and ended with how you saw her and everyone around you, with such clarity and endless love.

“I am nervous,” you whispered then and her smile suddenly widened.

“You have nothing to worry about. Eywa has accepted you among the people and understands your heart more than anyone. She sees you and now you will be one of us for the rest of time. Na’viyä hapxì (one of the people).”

You thought you had known what it would be like, what it would feel like. It was a moment you had been thinking about nonstop from the moment Neytiri had granted you permission to learn the Na’vi ways from her son. You thought you had gone through all the possibilities of how it would play out, what would be said, what you would be wearing, and ultimately how you would feel. None of it could have prepared you. Not in the slightest as no one can really understand what being born twice feels like. Or what that level of acceptance feels like. No one can possibly know until it happens to them.

That is what you realized when you walked out a mere half hour later, your head in the stars and body completely lit with the possibilities of life laid out before you. Dressed in the most carefully crafted purple beaded top, you felt the eyes follow you, taking in the new woven necklaces and the sudden way your hair fell so differently. Instead of tightly pulled together in small braids, it fell softly and in natural waves with the top half pulled back out of your face, a large flower laced into it.

White paint decorated every inch of your skin, done by Neytiri, across your entire face, and down your torso. It brought out the gold in your eyes and drew attention to the gentle curve of your lips. A songchord hung from a thin band tightly wrapped around your waist and everyone glanced curiously at the Waytelem and how proudly you wore it. It held very few beads, but the newest sage green hollowed-out bead was the most noticeable.

The clan clumped together in a crowd watching on as the young woman slowly approached the Sully family that stood proudly in front of everyone, all beside Jake Sully the Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya. They and everyone else couldn’t deny the beauty that was brought out of a person walking with their own heart clasped openly in their hands. At that moment you were no longer an alien to ogle at. The extra finger on both hands didn’t hold any other significance, and you were no longer a sky person to them. Instead, you were just a young woman, a young Na’vi looking to be given a place among the people.

The people began to collapse around you, quiet prayers falling from their lips as Jake stepped towards you, dressed as the king he was destined to be. The Sully family followed, surrounding you; Neteyam on one side and Neytiri on the other. Beside her, Mo’at with Kiri, Tuk, and Lo’ak standing behind you. Your eyes flickered to the side to find Neteyam, his eyes already staring straight at you, shining proudly.

Jake raised his hands up in the air, all attention on him. A smile spread widely across your face as for a moment he was brought back to his ceremony, his own rebirth before the Omatikaya. He knew how you felt, he knew how overwhelming and wonderful it was to be seen differently than the five-fingered alien that stumbled across the village.

He peered into your eyes and fully understood every emotion that flickered within your eyes, “Ngenga ‘ite Omatikayaä luyu set. Na’viyä luyu hapxì (You are now a daughter of the Omaticaya. You are part of The People).”

His hands then fell to your shoulders. Then slowly, following their Olo’eyktan you felt hands appear across your side and along your back — all starting with the feeling of Neteyam’s pressing along your chest, right where your heart was. He felt the way it picked up in your chest and as you glanced up at him, you found him smiling.

Neytiri and Mo’at’s hands were felt across your side and Lo’ak and Kiri’s palms were pressed firmly along your back with Tuk claiming your stomach. From there the rest of the clan followed. People of the village grabbed onto the shoulders of whoever was standing in front of them and just as Kiri had described, a circle had formed, of intertwined arms all connected before Eywa with you at the center — the center of the Great Mother’s heart. Closing your eyes, it was like your life had become complete, like every moment spent in your human form had been a sacrifice that would one day lead you to this.

As you opened your eyes, a single tear falling, you met the gaze of Jake Sully, Toruk Makto, Olo’eyktan, past dream walker and you knew then without a doubt, no matter what happened your life was complete.

As soon as the ceremony was over, you were pulled into hugs, arms clasping around your form, laughter and encouraging words whispered in your ears. The second the circle had started to diminish, you felt Kiri practically leap onto your back, her arms winding under your shoulders to pull you back against her chest. You laughed as her head leaned against yours, her joy painting your skin in the form of tears. You felt another frame sneak around her sister, appearing at your side and swiftly wrapping her smaller arms around your torso, not even caring that the white paint was transferring onto her skin. Tuk.

Neytiri remained in the same spot she had been during the ceremony, the corners of her lips lifted up softly as her eyes glossed over, unable to look away from the sight of her children winding themselves around you. She could see then how wrong she had been. How wrong she had been about it all, evident in the way the children cried for you, their hearts so full of love in that moment You had their hearts and in return gave yours back to them.

As the two sisters finally released you from their grasp, you felt a small tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you found Lo’ak bashfully staring at you with a small smile, his eyes hesitantly looking over you. His proposal flashed in your head but seeing the boyish expression on his face, your eyes softened and you reached out to him. His whole body flushed with relief as you stepped closer to him. His arms wrapped around your upper back and pulled you tightly against him. He couldn’t help the happiness he felt at the feeling of your nose pressed along his cheek and you returning his embrace just as firmly.

Even with all of the waves of emotions that were drowning you in every positive feeling you could think of, a hole appeared in your chest. One that suddenly caught your attention over the chatter of voices within your ears. It was like you could still feel where his hands were moments before. His absence was prominent and you couldn’t help but look around frantically, spinning around in the hopes you would find his braided hair or brightly beaded chest guard. It was as if Eywa had whispered in your ear to look for him and everything else that had mattered in the forefront of your mind was gone. No, all you could hear pulsing loudly in your ears was... Neteyam.

Neteyam. Neteyam. Neteyam.

The boy who now could be considered a man had done this for you; had helped you get to this point, had spent countless hours with you telling you every little secret he had within his back pocket about the forest, about the Na’vi, and about Eywa herself. The man who had swept you away without you even realizing it and had captured you with his attractiveness and attentiveness. The future Olo’eyktan who you knew you could never have left an ache in you, one that had altered your very being as dramatic as it sounded. During that time full of celebration and success, all you wished for was to get a glimpse of him.

Your shoulders deflated though as in the swarm of blue, his taller frame was nowhere to be seen. As if he wasn’t even there at all but a figment of your imagination. Glancing around, you realized that Jake Sully was also missing and you knew then that there hadn’t been a moment to waste.

In fact, as soon as you were being pulled into Lo’ak’s embrace, Neteyam was already on top of his Ikran flying off into the night sky beside his father. The only thing occupying his mind was the look on your face when he placed his hands on you during the ceremony.

Just as Jake had stated, the sky people were chipping away at the territory line drawn, marching through in large metal suits carrying guns in their hands. Those who walked bravely on their feet were alive from the oxygen masks pulled tightly across their faces. Others that weren’t holding guns were scanning the area with things Neteyam couldn’t name. But he watched as the machines and glass screens scanned the plants, the ground, and the foliage, all of it searching for traces of either Unobtainium or traces of Na’vi DNA. Either they were fine with. If they didn’t find any, Neteyam watched in horror as they burned whatever was in front of them like it was useless. To them though it was.

Neteyam had witnessed their destructive behavior many times, while he and his brother acted as spotters with their father leading the raids and stealing equipment. There was no empathy, no fairness in the affairs of men, and definitely not in a war. As the strong older brother, he was forced to keep it together for his younger siblings and the people of the clan — that was his burden along with taking on this impossible role. He felt as if Eywa was on their side when the sky people began to retreat the last few years like they were respecting the boundaries. He knew though that they didn’t operate like that and they never had. Their pullback and minor activity allowed the clan to stay in the forest and the village, living as they always wanted. He could see now that they hadn’t pulled back or they had been hiding at all, but rather taking the time to prepare.

Preparing to someday have the technology and the equipment to strike again and have it worth something. It seemed their days of preparing had come to an end and they were ready. Neteyam’s mouth was pulled into a tight line and for a moment his father’s voice droned off — all of the military talk, the orders of strategies, or the terminology that was trying to be passed down from one leader to another didn’t matter anymore. Because from above, for the first time, Neteyam watched his entire world begin to burn before his eyes, and the only sound he could make out was the cries from Eywa herself.

He had gotten back to the village late and it was even later when his father released him from the confines of a long conversation — a conversation he didn’t wish to be a part of. He wasn’t Olo’eyktan yet and even though he had just turned nineteen, no one seemed to see that the warrior before them was still so young. He had duties, and expectations, and just like he had admitted to you all those months ago, he was the protector. The burden installed on a firstborn son as his future was hung up in the stars. He didn’t have time to fall apart.

With that thought, he knew what he did have time for even with the world burning around him — you. Your ceremony, which had seemed so far away for months, had appeared in the blink of an eye. Somehow all of your nights together were behind him. The nights of confessing things he had never thought he could say to another person. Nights where you guys swam in the cool water, soaking in how alive it made you feel. Nights where he had wanted to reach over and hold your hand in his or possibly do something more. All of those suddenly were a part of the past; now that he knew what he knew, he wanted one more.

He saw the lights that were still glowing from the old tree. The thought had crossed his mind that maybe you were there — had decided to wait for him. Left the candles, sat down on a hand-stitched tapestry, and were waiting for him to walk in any moment. He thought about you sitting, bare legs crossed out in front of you, still wearing the hand-crafted beaded top you had been wearing earlier, your soft hair flowing down your back. He thought about your soft lips that would be parted softly in shock when he finally arrived and then instantly lift into a soft smile.

Neteyam wondered what they felt like, how they would fit against his — how they would taste. He wondered how you would taste. Guilt appeared then because this was not the first time he had thought about you this way. In all honesty, it had been going on for months starting at night when he lay awake staring at the ceiling. Then, his thoughts of you changed, starting with your lips, to something less than innocent. He would never admit it to anyone though, not when you were the one on his mind when his hands ended up between his thighs at night.

Somehow it had become normal to him, his hidden affection for you. As well as the desire that filled his body when he thought about you, especially when you looked at him with that pinched expression you usually acquired whenever he was being a jackass. It was wrong of him to do that. It always had been because you were never his and he knew that you never would be. However, it wouldn’t stop him from thinking about it for one last night.

As he stepped into the opening of the tree, he realized that you weren't there at all but it was his two siblings. They were standing close to one another talking under their breaths as if they didn’t want anyone else to hear. Kiri was practically yelling at Lo’ak even with her attempt to whisper, and the tone of her voice felt like a hot knife running across both the boys' skin.

Neteyam approached curiously, not drawing either of their attention. Lo’ak’s arms were crossed over his chest and based on the look in his eye, he was being defensive. That usually meant he had done something he clearly shouldn’t have.

“How could you do this Lo’ak? How could you do this to Y/N?” Kiri snapped for the hundredth time at her brother, a protectiveness over you and a seriousness that she thought he would have understood. A type of feeling she thought they all had for you but clearly, she was wrong because if Lo’ak felt the same, then he wouldn’t have done this. She never sounded this way, this upset.

Neteyam now a few feet from them, watched as Lo’ak raised his hands in the air and let them fall to his sides in annoyance. “To her? Kiri, I am doing this for her."

"Really, are you sure she feels that way?" Kiri sent back.

"It is not that big of a deal. You’re acting as if I did something wrong.”

Her eyes widened and she swore under her breath as her hands tightened at her sides with a sudden inclination to smack her brother across the face. Lo’ak stared at her, waiting for an outburst, or for her to curse him out or worse tell their parents. He waited and tapped his foot obnoxiously.

“Not that big of a deal?” she said then, incredulously, eyes narrowing further, “Lo’ak you asked her to be your mate.”

A second.

The prolonging silence, accompanied by a sweep of denial was the first thing he could feel as the disarming words repeated back in his mind.

Lo’ak you asked her to be your mate. The words felt like an endless pit as they filled Neteyam’s ears, unable to fully register if what he heard was true. All breath had been stolen from his lungs out of disbelief. A disbelief that left him feeling suffocated as his frantic eyes flickered back and forth between his brother and sister.

His hands clenched and unclenched with every second that passed, each becoming more agonizing than the last. The silence was palpable, completely torturous as the words he had never even pondered a day in his life suddenly ripped holes into his body. The shock had taken over his system and like an endless cycle he kept repeating the tormentful sentence in his head and by the third time, he felt the images start to distort before him.

As if he could feel his own cold blood under his touch staining his palms at the sight of you and his younger brother filling his mind. The destruction to his very being. Lo’ak held your hands as he asked you the question that would lead to Neteyam's demise. Lo’ak wrapping his arms around you. Lo’ak kissing you. Lo’ak getting to explore every part of your body that Neteyam had craved for himself like a moth to a flame. Lo’ak mating you. A thought that could only encourage the bullets in his chest to tear and taint what was left of his sanity. You asked her to be your mate.

After the sixth time, the shock seemed to settle in his bones and effortlessly turned to grief. As if the mercy he had begged for was not spared and instead led to his morbid end. Then with a much-delayed reaction, it felt like a kiss of life was bestowed on him. It traveled to his heart in the form of icy water, sending a thousand bolts of electricity through him, telling him to wake up from the bitter daydream.

He was again rewarded with reality perpetuating his mind and brought him back to the sight before him. His sister angrily glared at Lo'ak, who refused to fall honorably under her will and admit that his actions were wrong. It was no longer Neteyam that was in denial but his younger brother.

Then the icy water replaced all of the blood in his body, and a new feeling formed. His eyes twitched, head spiraling with rage, sending his senses into chaos. Unlike all of the times before when he had felt the green monster create feelings of irritation or insecurity, he knew this was something else. No, this was so much more than that.

It was a rage that was felt with every fiber of his being, every nerve of his entire self. That’s how undeniably pissed Neteyam was; like his entire world had crumbled before him and the lone destructor was his brother. His own brother he had spent his whole life being told to protect, taking the blame for because it meant he was doing what was asked of him. All of his life was spent putting up with Lo’ak and sacrificing everything for him. Now, all that was left in Neteyam’s chest was the feeling of complete and utter betrayal. In itself that was the worst rage to have.

“You did what!”

Breaths were stolen as his voice cut through the night's air. His voice sounded so foreign even to himself, so cold, and so desolate of any emotion. With a sharp intake, both siblings turned around.

Kiri stood still as she realized her anger was nothing compared to the future clan leader. To her, it was like a dark shadow had fallen over her brother’s features. He stood, tall, hands tightly bound into fists. She flinched lightly, merely watching as he tilted his head towards Lo’ak. She had never seen Neteyam this angry and she knew that it had been her words that had been the cause of it.

Lo’ak could feel the rage pulsating from his brother’s body, the brother who hadn't thrown a punch at him since they were no older than eight and six years old. His older brother who had always protected him and taken his side no matter what, somehow was no longer there. That Neteyam wasn't there anymore and Lo'ak knew exactly why.

It was you and he knew it because Neteyam wouldn't act like this for just anything or anyone. Lo'ak had known far too well the feelings his older brother harbored for you, secretly of course, because Neteyam could never admit it out loud. It was almost as if you were some secret to keep locked away until nighttime fell. Lo’ak finally knew that the one thing Neteyam suddenly truly wanted, away from everything else he had been given was you. However, the world wasn't set up for people to get what they wanted and Lo'ak couldn't care about Neteyam's feelings.

Because where Neteyam could never have you, he got everything else; the pride from his parents, the praise from the clan, the admiration of all the women in the village, the title of Olo’eyktan, and being described as the headstrong warrior. The older Sully sibling had it all and somehow Lo’ak couldn’t feel bad for what he had done, not when it came to you.

“Oh, look the perfect little soldier has returned,” he said, provokingly, ignoring the way Kiri’s eyes widened at his choice of words.

Neteyam growled under his breath and stepped forward, the anger in his eyes only igniting further, “Really, that’s how you want to go about this right now? Perfect little soldier! Really, Lo'ak?”

Lo’ak’s face twisted, jaw clenching to match his brother’s, “Yes, I think I do.”

Neteyam sighed, one that sounded more dejected than it did angry, “Please don’t tell me that what Kiri says is true. You wouldn’t do this.”

“Except that I did, brother. I asked Y/N to be my mate.”

“Lo’ak,” Kiri warned but he sent a glare her way and suddenly she found herself no longer wanting to intervene.

She shook her head unable to understand what Lo’ak was doing or how he could be saying any of those things — as if his resentment had taken over and his initial awareness of everything else was nowhere to be seen.

Neteyam’s tail swished angrily, aiding in how he kept clenching his fists. His voice was low, scary even, “How could you?”

“How could I? Are you fucking kidding me?” Lo’ak cursed, sarcasm dripping from his voice as you flickered through his mind.

You, Y/N Y/L/N were sweet, strong, and absolutely stunning. You were everything that any man could want and somehow you had gotten yourself all tangled up in a fish line — a fish line that belonged to his brother. A fish line that would never be pulled in. You were falling for Neteyam and Lo'ak couldn’t bare to see it someday destroy you.

Everyone knew about the plan, about Mrs. Neteyam Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan, the soon-to-be Tsahik and he wasn’t about to watch one of his closest friends waste her time pining over someone she could never have. He wasn’t going to let that happen to you, especially if Mo’at reconsidered your transfer request. He wasn’t about to watch you spend the rest of your life alone, hoping his brother would one day come to his senses. Neteyam was full of too much pride for that and he followed the rules far too close to ever go against what is asked of him.

“Neteyam, you will never be able to be with her, do you realize that?”

His body stiffened at Lo’ak’s claim. How he had been called out so effortlessly after months, after half of a year hiding how he felt about you. After spending so much time hiding it because he knew better than anyone how true Lo'ak's words were. In fact, he was reminded of it every day. Future Olo'eyktan, that's all he had ever been and all he would ever be seen as for the rest of his life. Everyone's expectations of him weren't suddenly known to him.

Lo’ak inhaled, voice lowering slightly, “You can't be with her, and I didn’t do this to hurt you, Neteyam. I did this for her. I don’t want her to be alone. I asked her to be my mate because she deserves someone who wants to be with her. Someone who won’t put everything else before her, especially their duties.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Neteyam hissed, voice laced with despair.

“And she at least deserves someone who can admit their feelings for her out loud.”

Even if what Lo'ak said was completely true, Neteyam couldn't listen to him anymore. Instead, he took the time to wonder how Lo’ak had even gotten to the point to ask you this. You were a dream walker. A sky person at night and their mother had firmly set a line, boundaries that clearly stated you shouldn’t be mating with anyone unless you were to become a full Na’vi. His eyes widened then, his thoughts stopping short as he realized.

A full Na’vi.

His face, once twisted in blistering sorrow, now was coiled with anger. Eyes narrowing, they never left Lo’ak's frame, as the question left his mouth like an irrefutable fact. “Why did you ask her now?”

“What do you mean?”

Neteyam took a step closer to his brother, rage the epitome of his being, his protectiveness of you taking priority over everything else, “Mother clearly said that Y/N wasn’t allowed to mate with anyone as long as she was still a dream walker. So tell me, brother, why did you ask her now?”

Lo’ak's eyes fell for a moment, finding interest in the ground, realizing then that the worst was yet to come. As it was the same reason Kiri had been angry with Lo’ak in the first place — it wasn’t because he had asked you to be his mate, it was why he asked you to be his mate. The transfer ritual. The ritual that had the ability to take your life.

“Lo’ak, ‘eyng! (Answer),” Neteyam demanded, already having a suspicion about the answer that would come out of his brother’s mouth. A suspicion of the reasoning behind all of it.

Slowly, Lo’ak lifted his head to look at Neteyam who was full of so much fear it was being expressed as aggression. He shook his head, finally finding the strength to admit it out loud, “Since she went to see Mo’at about a consciousness transfer.”

A second.

Then it was like a bomb went off in Neteyam’s head, a blaring warning of the inevitable end that was soon to come. His ears were ringing and his sight had blurred and at that moment he hadn’t comprehended what he was doing until he had already done it.

The punch had sent Lo’ak barreling back, shock appearing on his face along with a fresh trail of blood falling from his cheek, where the skin had been ripped open. He reached up and let his fingers brush along the cut, hissing out in pain as his older brother stared at him with the coldest look he had ever seen.

Kiri had gasped, “Neteyam!”

“You fucker!” Neteyam mumbled out, hand still tightly clenched together his brother’s blood now smeared across his fist, “You motherfucker. How could you be so selfish?”

“Selfish?” Lo’ak chuckled now just in mere disbelief, “Seriously?”

“You just don’t say anything! You let her request a transfer and you don’t say anything! What the fuck is wrong with you Lo’ak?”

“Neteyam, stop,” Kiri spoke again, her voice firm

Instead, he stepped forward, the furrow in his brow still evident, and fist raising slightly in the air. Lo’ak shook his head and let out a laugh as he glanced down at the drops of blood on his chest “You know what? Fuck this.”

Lo'ak lunged forward then, his hand clasped tightly into a fist, punching Neteyam square in the side of the head. Knuckles broke skin, right above the warrior's left eyebrow. Kiri hissed under her breath, somehow beginning to feel like her mother did when she once had to deal with stupid men and their need to solve problems with their fists, “Ftang! (stop) Both of you.”

Neteyam stumbled back but only for a moment as he regained his strength immediately. He smirked slightly, not even bothering to check the damage as he bound forward again. Getting a hold of Lo’ak, they both fell to the ground and suddenly it had become a conversation turned to punches being thrown back and forth. Neteyam had managed to get multiple in, not even holding back on his strength, until Lo’ak managed to get a leg up in between them, kneeing his older brother straight in the side.

“Ftang (stop)!”

Neteyam’s abdomen clenched and the sudden impact knocked the wind out of him, giving Lo’ak the opportunity to roll over on top of him. Lo’ak with the upper hand began to throw punches into his brother’s sides rather than his face. Hissing out, Neteyam felt his body recoil at every harsh throw to his torso and it was like there was nothing left. Nothing left in him to bargain for or intangibly fix. The pain was all-consuming at that point, his brain unable to wash away the deception he felt.

Letting out a yell, Neteyam sent a barreling hook into Lo’ak’s chin knocking him off balance. With the opportunity, he shoved his younger brother back and off of him. Lo’ak hit the ground hard, his back sliding across the dirt, creating more cuts.

Scrambling up on his feet, Neteyam wiped the blood from his face and stepped towards his brother’s frame, suddenly defenseless. He struggled to breathe but gathered all the strength he could and as he towered over his younger brother, he felt his respect for Lo’ak disappear completely. Staring down, he took notice of the blood sliding down across the side of Lo’ak’s face as well as the deep cut that was made across his upper lip. A bruise was already forming around his eyes, and his hands were splattered with Neteyam’s blood.

As he looked down at him, a flicker of the past appeared in front of his eyes. A smaller Lo’ak, an innocent helpless child who followed him around, asking him to teach him to hunt. A child who paraded around the village on Neteyam's tail trying to get him to play with him. For a moment as he stared down at Lo'ak, all he saw was his younger troublesome brother who was almost two years younger than him. Then in an instant, that old version was gone, like it was nothing but a ghost of the past, and in its place remained the Lo’ak he had been dealing with for years. The one he felt had hurt him in the worst way possible.

Kiri was staring at her brothers in disbelief and watched with fear as Neteyam stood huffing over Lo’ak, still full of so much anger. A look and feeling none of them thought he was capable of directing at someone in his family, let alone his younger brother. Luckily, before anything else could happen, all three siblings felt their attention be ripped away by the sound of heavy footsteps soon accompanied by a bellowing voice. One that was far scarier than even Neteyam’s.

Jake had heard from a rider of the clan that they had spotted his two sons yelling at one another in the old tree. He sighed, already annoyed about having to deliver a long lecture as well as a kick in the ass to both of his sons. A parenting moment that he didn’t have time for. Having heard the rider’s words, Neytiri looked over at her husband in slight disbelief. With Tuk tucked away in bed, both parents began to make their way to the old sacred tree.

What had been described as a mere argument seemed to be so much more as they heard their daughter yelling inside at her two brothers, accompanied by the sounds of colliding fists and painful grunts. They broke out into a run then and as Jake sprinted to the tree, he felt his stomach drop at the sight of his two sons tangled on the ground punches flying at one another.

As he stepped foot inside, he found Neteyam towering over Lo’ak both of them covered in blood and bruises. Kiri stood by, arms wrapped around herself with tears filling her eyes. He surveyed the scene and felt all reason leave his body. His stare hardened and his entire body tensed up at a sight he never expected to see.

“Hey! What the fuck do you two think you are doing?”

As they got closer, Neytiri gasped at the appearance of her two sons, battered and bruised far worse than she had ever seen before. Approaching Kiri, she took her hand in hers while her own expression seethed fire, “Kehe (no)! What happened?”

Jake took a hold of Lo’ak and pulled him up and off the ground, his expression was sharp as knives as his hand firmly gripped his youngest son’s arm.

“It was one thing to hear a rider tell me that he can hear both of my sons screaming and at each other’s throats about something but it was another to come and find you two idiots trying to beat each other to a pulp!”

Neteyam wasn’t even looking at his father, instead deathly still with a distraught look pained across his face. His brother's glare twists in his chest and at the hollow feeling in his throat, he couldn't help but look down at his hands and his body. Blood coating his skin like heavy rain, resembled the only feeling still piercing his chest.

“What the fuck has gotten into the two of you?” Jake demanded.

He was met with a deafening silence. Neytiri hissed at her two sons, the disbelief that such anger could be taken out on each other evident on her face. “Answer your father!”

Feeling the tightness of his father’s grip, Lo’ak's mouth parted like he was going to answer, but before he could say anything Neteyam beat him to it, his voice raw and empty, “Nothing.”

“Nothing, really?” Jake chuckled, angrily, “Why don’t you take a look at your brother’s face and tell me if that does something to jog your memory.”

Neteyam's lips sealed shut, eyes refusing to look away from his blood-covered knuckles. At his silence, Jake huffed so loudly it drew a shaky breath out of Kiri as he directed his glare away from Neteyam to Lo'ak. Except Lo’ak wouldn't dare break first.

Jaked growled, reaching out to grab Neteyma’s forearm to try and get his attention. His glaring eyes could not stop looking between his two sons, ablazed. His sight turned red and his expression was rigid as his teeth gritted together.

“You both better come up with an answer real quick or you’re going to get knots in your tails. You read me?”

His grip had loosened slightly however as he looked back over at Neteyam. The tightness of his jaw and the quiver of his bleeding lips took Jake by surprise. It was a look he had never seen on his son before. Tears welled up in the young soldier's eyes and he fought to keep them from escaping in front of his father. Warriors don't cry and they sure as hell don't cave in. They don't get crushed under the weight of a broken heart because there are others to be concerned about.

With his ears pulled back, he felt the tightness in his chest worsen. Jake shared a look with Neytiri and it was like they both could identify the exact feeling laced across their son's face. Defeat.

Jake's mouth parted in shock as Neteyam suddenly ripped his arm free and turned swiftly on his heels, heading straight for the exit.

“Neteyam!”

#avatar #avatarimagine #avatar way of water #neteyam x reader #writing #fanfiction #neteyam imagine #avatar imagine #avatar fanfiction #lo'ak imagine #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak fanfiction #neteyam fanfiction

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redstarwriting · 11 months

Text

the clash | iii. black planet

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 2.5k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you, you hating hobie, needles mentioned, slight injury from said needle

a/n: is this one long? yes. do i care? no because it was fun to write. it was 3 am when i finished this and make this a draft, so you know i had fun with this chapter. also, i’m about to go into work, so i will probably not be here but i wanted to post it beforehand so i can just worry about working on chapter iv later. and just wanna say i’m grateful to everyone who is reading and interacting with the posts! this has been such a warm welcome back into writing for the marvel universe and i appreciate each and every one of you :)🖤 also i have a question, feel free to answer in the comments or pm me, do i go all the way in the angst for this, or only some angst?

now reading: iii. black planet

previous chapter: ii. time bomb

next chapter: iv. london calling

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You open a portal to your world, and dramatically motion everyone inside. Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr step into it, and you glance at Hobie. “Are you actually coming, then?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he says sarcastically, stepping into the portal. You enter last, walking until you’re in the familiar darkness of your apartment. “Welcome to my home,” you say, going to your kitchen to get a glass of water. As you’re pouring, you hear one of your guests speak up. “Is that… a real skull…?” Pavitr asks, pointing to a human skull above your fireplace mantle. “Sure is. She’s my aunt,” you say, taking a sip of water. They all look at you with a look that reads ‘is it… that aunt?’

You nod.

It isn’t brought up again.

Hobie sees a vinyl player and immediately walks over to it. He observes the multiple albums and singles and then comes across vinyls that don’t look like they belong to any band in particular. “You press your own vinyl?”

“Obviously. There’s just something better about vinyl than listening to it on my phone, so I press my own playlists,” you say, and Hobie glances up at you. “It sounds more real. Scratches and all, makes it feel authentic,” he says, placing a record on your player and placing the needle on it surprisingly gently. You raise your eyebrow at him. ‘Of course he would get the record thing,’ you think to yourself, ‘he is a guitarist after all.’

“I totally agree,” Gwen says, and you nod. Musician things. Ambient sounds accompanied by faint guitar riffs fill the room. You nod in approval. This is one of your favorite songs. Gwen smiles. “Your place is so fucking cool, (Y/n),” she says, walking over to the crystal ball and various tarot decks you have set up on your kitchen table. “Thanks, I take pride in it,” you say and Hobie makes a noise. “Could be better. Tell me, do you consider any color? Ever? Like what the fuck kind of plants are these that they’re all black?”

“They’re called Raven ZZ plants, and actually, they’re a bright green when new leaves sprout, but no. Color is not for me. The only reason I have the tiniest bit of pastel pink on my spider suit is because I need to continue to throw people off my scent.”

“How d’you reckon a tiny splash a’ color will do that?”

“There are various different types of goth. If I only used my own style, it would make the likelihood of me being me much higher than I would like,” you explain, and Miles looks around. “So… this place haunted?” he asks and you grin. “Yes.”

“Ghosts aren’t fuckin’ real.” Hobie scoffs, and he has to bite back a laugh at how quickly you turn your head to him. He actually does believe in ghosts, just a tiny bit, but doing anything to piss you off has become his new motto. Even if he has to lie.

“Shut the fuck up or I’ll make one of them possess you,” you say icily, and a cold breeze rolls through the room and blows out some of the candles. Pavitr shrieks and jumps into Miles’ arms. Gwen mutters something about that being ‘so cool.’ Hobie looks virtually unimpressed and you two glare at each other until you all get an all too familiar feeling of danger. You all turn your head toward your balcony, and you see an explosion in the distance. “Fuck,” you mumble, jumping into action immediately. You pull your mask on, and jump without a second thought. It’s a new thing when you glance over and see Hobie right by you. “Was that a bomb? Who could that be?” Miles asks and you sigh. “Probably the Green Goblin,” you say, and Hobie opens his mouth to say another sarcastic remark but is cut off when he gets to observe what your swinging is like.

You literally move like the wind. It’s fluid and smooth in nature, and he pays special attention to how you barely make noise when you land on a building to run. It’s actually impressive, and it makes him lose whatever rude comment he thought of. It’s the complete opposite of how he is. Erratic and loud. He doesn’t know whether to respect it or make fun of you for it later. Probably the latter. “Hey (Y/n)? Is the sky normally this dark? I thought it was like 6pm,” Pavitr asks as you all swing and you nod. “The sun is only out for like 2-3 hours a day here,” you respond. “Damn a little sunlight never killed anybody,” Miles says, and you shrug. “Honestly, here it might.”

“Is that why you’re so moody and negative? Only light you get is from the moon?” Hobie asks and you roll your eyes. “Actually, I was born that way. My style of living has nothing to do with my moodiness and realistic outlook,” you shoot back, emphasizing the point of realistic and not negative. He just shakes his head.

You all arrive at the location the explosive went off, and you notice there are still people inside the parking garage that was hit. “We’re on it!” Gwen says, motioning for Pavitr and Miles to follow her. The three of them take off in an instant, and you keep your eyes peeled and ears open to hear the wings of the Green Goblin’s glider. Hobie hangs back, not saying anything for once in his life. Until he gets an uneasy feeling. “Something’s close.”

“I know, idiot, I have the sense too.”

“I was just sayi–”

He’s cut off by a tiny bag of… powder… being thrown between the two of you. You both leap out of the way immediately before it explodes. “Found you!” Hobie hears a maniacal laugh, “Ohhhh and you brought a friend!” The Green Goblin of your universe giggles, and he realizes that the glider she’s on is a giant taxidermy bat accessorized with mechanical elements making it able to fly again. “Not their friend,” he yells at the Goblin before addressing you, “What the actual fuck is ‘at?” Hobie yells and you sigh. “That’s the Green Goblin of my universe, she’s a fucking lunatic who wants to turn me into a taxidermy sculpture and sell me at an art auction.”

“She an Osborn?”

“Yes, Harriet Osborn,” you say, dodging another… bomb? Hobie honestly doesn’t know what the fuck is happening. “Well, I’ve killed one Osborn already, what’s another,” he says, and you make a gasping noise. “Oh no… don’t tell me…”

“We can’t kill Harriet!”

“Why the fuck not?! She’s tryna kill you!”

“Because of personal reasons! You’re not about to come into my world, and kill my villains, asshole!” you scream, and he groans. “Fuckin’ fine. Whatever, we take her down, we don’t kill her,” he says, and you nod. “I take her down. Like I have countless times before.”

“Uh uh uh, I’m here for a reason, we take her down.”

“Gods, fine. Whatever,” you huff and the both of you dodge another explosive. You point to Miles, Gwen, and Pavitr who are motioning to you that they got everyone out of the garage. Without speaking, the two of you develop a plan. You immediately web into the garage, going down to the bottom floor. Of course, your Goblin follows you, completely disregarding Hobie even being there. He follows behind. It’s dark in here, all the lighting has gone out inside and the black sky outside makes it difficult to see. You use the stealth he observed earlier to your advantage. Even he has trouble picking out where you are, and he has super senses. He makes his way to a pillar that supports the garage as quietly as he can, which, luckily, is quiet enough that he goes unnoticed. “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he hears in a sing-songy voice.

He carefully picks up a rock and glances around the garage. He’s behind a pillar that will help bring the whole thing down, he just needs to deduce which of the other pillars will assist in that. Lucky for him, you’re there too. He hears a noise behind one of the pillars, and sure enough, an explosion soon follows. He quickly realizes where the other weak points are and throws a rock at one of the others. Boom. Explosion. And then one more. He glances to his left to see you right next to him. You both nod at each other, and he hits a power chord. You roll your eyes. “A little flashy, don’t you think,” you say as the two of you leap out of the way and there’s one more explosion. “Not flashy enough, love,” he responds as the garage starts to shake.

The two of you expertly navigate the falling rocks as you make your way out of the collapsing building. Right when you get out, your eyes widen, and you twist your body so the glider doesn’t impale you. You land on top, and the Goblin turns around. Half of her mask is broken and she’s bleeding from being hit by one of the rocks. You can tell the glider was hit, too, because it seems to be stalling every now and again. It does get you farther away from your spider-companions, but they start webbing after you. “Found you,” she says. “No shit, Harriet. It only took you demolishing ONE building to do it this time, feels like a new personal record for you,” you respond, and she throws a punch at you. You dodge, and then see her pull out an unnecessarily large taxidermy needle. “Ah, shit,” you mumble as she starts wielding it like a dagger. You’re able to dodge most of her attacks, but the last one grazes your side. You hiss and realize she put another attempt of a knockout serum on it as well. Great. She laughs.

“Stupid spider! I didn’t need to stab you; I just needed a little graze! See, I put a special kind of toxin on my needle, and now it–” She gets knocked out by a single punch to the face. “You talk way too damn much, girl,” you mumble, webbing her to the side of a building as she falls off her glider. Oh shit. The glider. You leap off, despite the pain in your side and the woozy feeling that’s starting to show up and web the glider. You then go water skiing without the water. Or the skiis. And on the road. Oops.

You do your best to control the glider, swerving between cars and making sure it doesn’t run into any of the skyscrapers in downtown Night of Yore City. That’s when you realize it’s about to run straight into a building. You narrow your eyes. It’s time to do your Spider thing. You yank back on the glider, causing it to stall. You leap up onto the side of a building, detaching three webs onto it and leaping to the other one. You repeat until a full spiderweb is formed, blocking the glider’s way to the building, and repeat so it’s underneath the glider as well. You quickly web up the giant claws of the taxidermy bat, ensuring they can’t cut through your webs, and wrap the glider up, swinging around it in a circle. You attach the end of the web to the big spider web you just made and watch it slow down even more. It goes into the web in front of the building, and slightly indents into it, but that’s the further it gets.

You crouch on a lamppost, watching to make sure nothing bad happens. When you’re positive everything’s fine, you stand. A few citizens yell some thanks you’s, more glare at you because you just ruined their day, and some just ignore you completely. You look up and see the four other Spider-People chilling on the side of a building. You quickly join them. “Never seen someone make a web that fast and efficiently,” Gwen says, motioning to the web you wove. You shrug. “Thank you.”

“Unfortunate a buildin’ had to come down in the process,” Hobie says, not giving you a break or any type of praise. You roll your eyes. “Let’s not forget you were part of the reason the building came down.”

“I could have done it without the destruction.”

“Like you would have.”

“I wouldn’t have, but I could have. Obviously, you couldn’t,” he says, and you flip him off as you all begin webbing back to your apartment. Once you get there, you assess the damage the needle did to you. Some weird green toxin was in the cut, and you sigh. “Wait, (Y/n), that looks kind of serious,” Gwen says, noting the discoloration of the toxin compared to your skin. You shake your head. “No, it’s fine. She keeps trying to make a knock-out serum to use on me. None of them are strong enough,” you affirm, the slight wooziness you had felt earlier is completely gone. Now you just need to wash and dress this, and it should be healed by morning. “Or maybe she’s just a shit chemist.”

“Thank you, Hobie, for your doubt that I’m a capable Spider-Person,” you say, and he nods at you. “Always.”

You get out your first aid kit and clean your wound up. It stings, and you wince, and the others know that feeling all too well. “Right, well now that we’ve seen this gloomy, depressin’, dark ass world, why don’t we go see an actual fun world, eh?” Hobie says, starting to press some buttons on his watch. “Go to your world? What so I can be blown away with too loud amps and catch on fire because some dumbass thinks they can make a flamethrower with some sort of cleaning spray and a lighter? No thanks,” you mumble, and he rolls his eyes. “Not like I want you there anyways, love,” he says. You hate this new nickname he’s picked for you. It’s not endearing, it’s annoying. And he knows that it bothers you. You angrily put your first aid kit down and glare at him. “Fine. But hold on one second.”

You scale your wall and reach into an impossibly high cupboard, pulling out some cat food. Suddenly, the four spiders see two bright green eyes in the darkness of what appears to be your bedroom. You fill up a bowl, and your black cat saunters over to you. You pet his head, giving him a few scritches between the ears, his favorite spot. Hobie’s grateful you’re preoccupied with your cat because he does not need you to see the expression on his face. He loves cats. Especially black cats, they’re a perfect symbol of rebellion. Maybe he’ll come back here one day but only for your cat. ONLY.

“Alright, now that you’ve fed the cat, can we please leave? I can feel my soul bein’ sucked out of my body the longer I stand here,” Hobie says, impatiently, and you roll your eyes. “That’s the ghosts doing that, you know.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

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『 tag list 』

@casmosmoon* @d1nne @dotheyevenknowmars @f1shb0nez @fisshil @imarealfungi @ineedsomeconfidence @iwillrisefromthefire @jingliuu @jjkclub @khaleesihavilliard @marshallowy @miwagila @naarra* @nikabearr @sillylittleguyinc @sparklyphantom @sxftiebee @weyrrii* @wheeeelys @zero-boxes

*if you are italicized - i am unable to tag you for whatever reason, feel free to reach out and see if we can fix the issue

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x you #spiderpunk x reader #spiderverse x reader #hobie brown #spiderpunk #spider-punk #spiderverse #theclashofthespiderverse

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greeneyed-thestral · 2 months

Text

I MET MICHAEL SHEEN. 16/03/24, National Theatre

So, if you've read my post about booking tickets to see Michael, you know all about my what-ifs. But the day was finally here.

I arrived at the National Theatre, followed all the Nye signs and here's the Olivier Theatre. I made my sister buy me the show's programme, hoping I would be able to get it signed.

I find my seat, I'm not in the centre but the stage still feels very close and you can see everything (amphitheatres are always the best).

Lights out. The audience is in religious silence. Can't believe I'm actually here, this is happening.

[skip this part in smaller font, if you want to avoid spoilers] In the words of Staged, he really loses himself in his roles. First of all, it's great to hear him speak in a Welsh accent.

But then we also see him turning back into a child, and you can totally believe he's young and innocent again. His stutter feels so real, his struggle and sadness too. The entire ensamble is great during the classroom scene, where they all help Nye against their bullying teacher (using those big canes to make him look scary really works). Hearing young Nye confessing that at times he thinks he 'shouldn't exist' because of who he is was a gut punch; Michael's delivery of that whole part is incredible, in that moment he really becomes a little boy that allows himself to feel vulnerable and says something dark to a friend. The way he jumps while saying "I can visualise and enunciate!" made me wanna jump too, he was ready to give up and then he found the solution through books, it's the joy and relief you feel when you realise that there is another way and your life is not over.

Now, I've watched musicals all my life and let me tell you that man is meant to be in one. He opened his mouth and all I could see was someone that had been waiting a long time for the occasion to show his talent, truly showstopping. He was so free and happy and confident, singing and dancing spectacularly. I couldn't stop smiling and giggling, we all clapped.

It's clear he means every word he says, and when he points and shouts his political arguments at the audience, those who feel called out must be shaking; I thought 'This is how people in Ancient Greece must have felt everytime they went to the theatre'. His Nye is inspiring, passionate, someone you'd want to follow, he stands up for what he believes in and lets nothing get in his way.

We get to watch him flirt, on all fours, waggling his 'tail'; everytime we think we've seen all he's capable of, he does something like this and surprises us.

But most of all, we see him being scared, first of having to do something, and then of not being able to do enough for all of us. At one point everyone has requests for Nye and I was expecting him to shout "Heal yourselves!" like Jesus in JCS, it totally conveyed what it must have been like to be in his role at the time, overwhelmed with daunting responsibilities.

In general, I appreciated the fact that it wasn't a linear biography, they chose life moments that have universal situations everyone can relate too, like they do in bio-musicals. I loved the staging. The colour palette is so recognisable; the curtains and the beds are used in many different ways so everything is explored at its full potential.

He is on stage basically all the time for more than two hours (sometimes twice a day, can you imagine?). Also barefoot and in his pajamas from start to finish, he looks like a teddy bear you just want to hug and protect.

He bows, looks at Nye's achievements, then leaves the stage.

Standing ovation, applause. I go back to the theatre lobby, I was supposed to wait for my sister, but she's late. Meanwhile, a fan asks me how to get to the Stage Door. I start too fear that I'm going to miss my chance if I keep waiting inside, so I decide to go on my own. After no more than 5 minutes, he's outside with us. Forget Nye, I am living my fever dream. He has just finished his second show of the day and yet he's smiling and listening to each and every one, signing and taking pictures. I know many have said this, but he really is an angel.

My sister arrives, and as soon as I'm sure she has the camera ready, I make my way to him. The two girls next to me who were speaking to him needed a pen and I lent them my sharpie, so I got my chance to look generous in front of him.

And suddently it was my turn. This is as much as my scrambled mind allows me to remember: I tell him I'm Francesca and I'm from Italy, he asks me how long I am going to stay, I confess that I had arrived that morning and just to see him, that I would be leaving already the following morning. I can't even focus while he's signing my programme, I just want to find the right words. I manage to say how I enjoyed seeing his passion, all these different sides of him and how watching him sing and dance has been the highlight of my evening. We take a picture together, I feel his hand on my shoulder and I realise my arm is around the waist of this person I love. I had to thank him again, telling him that he only deserves good things and that we are so lucky to have him. He wishes me a safe trip home, and I melt. I leave and I can't stop trembling. On my way back to the hotel I hold on tight to my signed programme and the sharpie that was in his hands just moments earlier. Only later I will realise that he's also written 'Ciao!', 'love' and 'X', without me asking for it or anything! Seeing him act live was a big gift already, but what followed outside was beyond my dreams. I can't look at the photos without blushing, the way he looks at me in the video and then also strokes my arm for a moment, I mean pinch me now.

The more I think about it, the more I can't believe it happened.

I want to thank everyone that under my first post pushed me and encouraged me to see the pros of doing this, I share this beautiful moment of my life with all of you. <3

#michael sheen #nye #national theatre #london #btw I was also wearing one of david's headbands

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luvbugs-blog · 7 months

Note

(( if requests are open rn/okay)

Getting caught with the boys, Hitoshi Shinsou version? xx

getting caught with the mha boys - part 3

featuring: hitoshi shinsou

a/n: aged up characters!

warnings: just a lil spicy dicey. spoilers for a grey's anatomy episode.

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midterms were exhausting. it was a friday afternoon, and you were trudging back to your dorm to rot in your bed for a little bit. you barely had any time for yourself this week, choosing to lock yourself in your room or the library to prepare for all the tests. the late nights took a toll on you, so when you finally fall into bed, you almost want to take a nap. but you choose to scroll on tik tok instead, occasionally giggling at a funny one before sending it to your boyfriend.

oh. shinsou! you haven't seen him at all this week, as his test schedule happened to be when your free time was, and vice versa.

you would go visit him after taking some time to recharge. eventually, you do end up falling asleep, not waking up until the morning, weirdly warm. you blink, extremely tired despite sleeping for 10+ hours and shift in bed before hitting something hard. you whip around, heart pounding, to see your boyfriend leaning up against the headboard, smiling at whatever video he was watching. he glances over at you, before sending you a cheeky smile.

"finally up, kitten?"

"you freak! what are you doing in here?"

"i have an extra key."

"oh yeah." he sets his phone to the side and smirks at you.

"i missed you."

"i know, i'm sorry babe." he scoots closer to you, putting his leg over your hip and drawing you into his chest.

"well, we have time now." you smile, holding him close, nudging your nose to his.

"yes we do."

you didn't. just as your lips touched, his phone buzzed. the two of you jumped and he glanced at his phone before groaning loudly.

"what is it?"

"extra training with aizawa." he looked at you and you grinned.

"go on you big, lazy baby. i'll be here when you're done." he tucked some hair behind your ear before rolling over the bed, heading to training so he could get back to you.

but now that he left, you were twitchy, moving around the bed, feeling a bit anxious for him to come back. he had gotten you in the mood and then left. prick. you straighten up your room, clean your bathroom, and then decide to start an episode of grey's anatomy. at this point, you were relaxed again, and the door cracked open just as meredith placed her hand on the live bazooka in the guy's chest. locked in, you barely noticed as shinsou throws his shoes off and goes to take a shower in your bathroom.

he comes out in a towel and starts to crawl over to you, positioning himself over you. you push him aside, much to his displeasure, to watch meredith shakily put the live bazooka in the bomb squad guy's hand.

when the kisses start up your neck, you whine.

"baby, wait. this is interesting."

"i'm interesting."

but when meredith exists the O.R. to see the bomb squad blown up, shinou sits up.

"whoa."

you smirk. "told you it's totally interesting."

the ending credits play and you finally turn your attention to him. when you start kissing him now, he pays no attention as the next episode started playing.

"shinsou."

"no you're right. this is interesting."

"ugh." he smiles, still looking at the tv, and puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest. but you are not going to wait another 40 minutes. your hand trails down his abs (and damn, they are defined) to the hair that peeks out from the top of his towel.

no reaction.

your hand doesn't stop, lightly touching the bulge under the towel. he hisses and grabs your shoulder tighter.

"what are you doing?"

"asking for attention."

"you needy baby."

you throw your leg over his lap, now straddling him, hands reaching to move his hair out of his eyes. his eyes travel back to the tv, but you grab his chin and forced him to look at you.

"pay attention to me," you whine.

he smirks.

"make me."

you do. you smash your lips onto his, swallowing his groans. your hands move up his chest and one links in his hair while the other claws at his back. he kisses back with fervor, and to throw him off his game, you grind down on him. his head falls back onto the headboard, and you take the chance to start sucking on his neck.

his hand goes to your hair, pulling him back. his lips part, ready to say something, when a loud pounding on your door has the two of you quickly breaking apart.

"SHUT THE HELL UP."

the both of you groan, and shinsou shouts,

"way to kill the mood!"

you hear, "DON'T CARE," as he stomps back to his room and slams the door. you totally forgot his was your neighbor.

oops.

#hitoshi shinso x reader #shinso x reader #shinsou x reader #hitoshi shinsou x reader #hitoshi shinso x y/n #shinsou hitoshi x reader #hitoshi shinsou #shinso hitoshi x reader #shinsou x female reader #mha imagines #mha scenarios #mha x reader #mha #bnha #bnha x reader #shinso fluff #shinsou fluff #hitoshi shinsou fluff

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momotorin · 1 month

Text

no risk, no return

f1 driver!momo x f1 driver! reader au — fluff, angst if you squint

[keji sent a note!]: first of all, i've been in such a writing slump and this fic helped me to get out of it! i'm sorry if it took really long!!! here it is <3 ++ this is a series btw! @saiidahyunie here it is pookie i hope u have a blast reading it 🙏

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for most of her life, momo has only known what it feels like to win. born to one of the wealthiest families in japan, it's like opportunities come falling to her lap even if she didn't ask for it. but, there's one thing she pursued.

it's the thrilling, blazing speed of having to be in closed circuits— going around and around until you're flying, getting ahead of everyone else. it's a lavish, fun, and insanely challenging lifestyle.

momo thinks that she's everlasting in facing every single golden trophy that comes her way, and she'll do anything to take it.

for you, winning was a privilege. it was always something that not only you worked on.

you started racing because your dad enrolled you into a free session, and totally fell in love with karting. many years and sacrifices pass, but still, you're in love with the speed and the feeling of flying on the ground.

every golden medal and trophy is earned by you, the people who helped you and everyone else.

you'd do everything to win, as momo does too.

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on one rainy f2 race, it was either a hit or miss, and one move equates to a life.

“we can't continue this,” momo arugues, standing up.” “spa has been a killer, even when dry. do you want your lives to be at risk?”

you scoffed, “why, afraid to lose your points, hirai?” you looked at her and everyone agreed.

this was racing, and you know there were risks. with the advancement of technology in these fast cars, risks were lessened, and you're now confident that you could still fight. you just can't back down after being so competitive, fighting for the championship. if anything else, why the hell would hirai momo scour away from this?

“look,” momo sighs. “i just want safety. we all know it's not safe-”

you stood up now, looking at her with a fire in your eyes. “then go to the damn back of the grid if you wanna play safe?”

momo steps closer to you, looking at you straight into the eyes. “if you die tomorrow, i don't mind if you're head is flying off because of me. got it?”

you smiled, sinister and scary. “of course, hirai. my head would say hi and fall onto your lap, too.”

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“you guys are so damn funny.” sana laughs after you've woken up from your coma. she's been your number one friend since diapers, and this sport was one of the things she pulled you in with her. sana was the extrovert friend who always said hi to everyone else for you, and you couldn't take her more.

you sighed in defeat as momo was right. after the rise at eau rouge, and a blind spot, even blinder when raining at the turn in radillion; you were too busy that your attention shifted to the upcoming car that wanted to take over your position in that corner, that you missed the turn, and only you came to a huge spin, hitting the wall at almost 250 km/h. it was a miracle that you were still alive.

you know that the person in that upcoming car was pushing you to the limits, rightfully so in this sport, but you hope they know it isn't their fault. if anything, it was yours.

“momo won, by the way.” sana reminds as she fixes your blanket.

you scoffed, “yeah, right, of course she'd win.”

“all of this wouldn't happen if you just,” sana makes her hands into like two lips, making it kiss and showing you a demonstration. “you know…”

“sana,” you whined. “even over my dead body. no. never.”

sana laughed, “you'll eat your words someday, y/n.”

you dismissed as you rolled your eyes, “and i won’t be full of it because i’ll eat none.”

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[breaking] carrera scaglietti’s world champion, hirai momo moves to jyp shinhan racing team for the 2024 season.

your eyebrows creased into the middle of your forehead, your attention shifting away from the data after you've read the news. momo was through and through red, loud, powerful, rich— very much like the italian scaglietti team. why the hell would she choose to go to jyp?

“oh, that's crazy,” hyunnie takes a peek at your phone, very amused at what is happening. “maybe she fought with her teammate?” hyunnie wonders.

“i doubt,” you sarcastically say. there's a high chance that momo had a dispute with her teammate. but you doubt, her teammate was minatozaki sana, she could literally turn anyone her teammate if she wanted to. “but it's momo, so we never know.”

“right,” hyunnie just agrees with the statement, and proceeds reading the data of the wind tunnel for the new car. you two were checking data in the factory for the new season. “don't you think it's a bit stuck up in the middle?” hyunnie points out at the monitor, seeing the air flow ruin the aerodynamics. it was important for the development of the car, and you're glad that hyunnie was reliable to point it out.

after the first stream of the air through the front wing, it doesn't continue to flow the same to the front wheels, making it scattered which results in it being slower.

“soobin!” you call onto your lead engineer loudly, and he comes running with a couple of coffees in hand. “look, it's not going up the wheel,” both you and hyunnie pointed. “that's gonna cost at least a tenth of a second in the straights.”

“yeah, yeah,” soobin kindly hands your coffee and nods. “better front wheel wing, and a smoother air inlet to have a great slipstream.” he suggests, sitting down on his desktop and setting a new creation into reality. “hey, y/n, have you seen the news?”

hyunnie laughs, “trust me, y/n’s the first person who saw it.”

“really,” soobin condescends, still concentrating on his work. “you know, you'd see her a lot this season.”

“i know, don't worry,” you laughed. “i'm ready for it. it'll be a breeze beating her.”

[breaking] f2 champion y/n to gochiya skyline after being offered a 5 year contract.

“i thought she'll be in vantage?” momo sighs under her breath. they were in the middle of a break from a team photoshoot for the new season. momo throws her head back in a deep disappointment that can be felt across the room.

jihyo greets with a smile, both of their helmets in her hand. “what's that, champ?”

“news,” momo blatantly answered, shutting her phone down. “and just news.”

“i think i know,” jihyo says, having that little amused smile on her face. “it's y/n moving to a different team, no?”

momo just nods. she can't believe that this woman knew exactly what she was thinking.

jihyo chuckles, “well, it's nice to know that we have someone on the grid who can put up a fight.”

jihyo’s not wrong. momo dominated the last season, nearly winning all 24 races. 5 were won by her previous teammate, minatozaki sana, and 2 were won by jihyo in jyp shinhan.

well, it was no shocker to her after your coma, you'd make it to f1. as she said to herself, you were a champion, just like her. you fight like hell with your car, and you in this cup isn't any different.

but, in racing, there's only going to be a sole winner, although three people share the podium— there's always the sole, shining golden first place, and she can't give that up for you.

jihyo tapped momo's shoulder as the photographers came and called her. “c’mon, i think they need us back.”

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the next thing you know is that you're already starting the season. after long hours of development in the factory, it's finally set to be used in bahrain. this was nothing like your previous tiers of racing before, and it's something you've only seen from the surface level, but now that you're in it, you can't help but feel a little nervous.

it was a thursday, and the pit lane was full of people from the media. you spot your best friend from just a few meters from you, talking to her old teammate. from that scene alone, you know that momo's reason for leaving the scaglietti isn't a teammate thing.

“hey.” you greet sana as momo leaves to be interviewed by a sports channel.

“you look constipated,” sana holds down your shoulders, looking you in the eye, worried about your state of health. “you okay?”

“it's hot, dude,” you said, panting. “uh, anyw-”

“sana,” you saw momo come back from the interview, and she was already taking sana by the wrist. “let's go.”

“give me a minute,” you dismissed her, your palm outward to let her know that you were still talking to your best friend. “i’ll let you have her after we talk, okay?”

momo yanks at sana's arm in disapproval, making your best friend wince, “no, what the hell-”

sana was already angry at this point, her eyebrows meeting in the middle. “oh, come on!” she sighs. “okay, y/n, what is it.”

you smiled in confidence, “hyunnie invited the whole grid to a party tonight. well, as she calls it a party, but it's not the club type of thing, though. one last before the actual testing, you know, just to get everyone familiar with each other.”

momo stares and scoffs under her breath, “like we aren't tired of each other enough.”

“you have a choice in declining, though!” you smiled at sana, but you said it loudly that momo hears. “and yeah, drinks are on her, sana. you don't have to worry about that.”

“that's nice,” sana smiles. “um, i’ll get going now with grumpy pants number two here. i’ll catch up with you later, hm?”

“yeah, yeah.” you waved at sana, winking at her. “i’ll just text you the location!”

momo fakes gagging on her own spit at your reaction, “gross.”

“nah, you like it,” sana nudges at her as they walk back to their teams. “why the hell do you pretend to hate each other?”

“sana, you know i can’t pretend,” momo sighs. “if you're still convinced that we have some sexual tension going on… maybe you're blind i don't know, get your eyes checked.”

“you can pretend, i’ll give you that.” sana laughs, patting momo on the back. “but you're not too good at lying, are you?”

───────────��────────⋆⋅🏁⋅⋆────────────────────

the rookies all got on for the media interview for the day, which included you, and chou tzuyu, the newest addition of carrera scaglietti. you two were the newest addition to the grid, and you know tzuyu well that you know she could compete with you.

“um, hello y/n, hello tzuyu,” the reporter flashes a smile to the both of you, anticipating their question. “the grid has made some pretty solid adjustments following the data made from the practices. as two fairly experienced drivers, do you think that you have a shot at winning at least a grand prix for the year?”

“oh, that's,” tzuyu then smiles, finding the question to be quite expectant of their performance. “it's not impossible, but it will be really hard. as you said, the adjustments for the cars are huge. it will be very competitive, and we will race. but you also have to be a little considerate on the part that we've only been to f1 testing at least twice in our f2 careers, and tested just now, so it's a bit of a mix for us getting used to the feel of the car first, then winning.”

“exactly,” you follow. “although i think i've been through more testing than tzuyu, we're now driving in a completely different car from our teams. i don't wanna brag about the experiences that i have, sorry, tzuyu,” you comfortably tap her arm as you slightly bow with your head, showing your apologies for the little arrogant move. “but, it's pretty fair to say that i can and will compete. i can say that our car is competitive, and from the data, it could catch up to last year's scaglietti’s top speed. so, we're definitely putting up a fight.”

“thank you y/n, and thank you tzuyu,” the reporter smiles once more. “can i have a little request from the both of you to say something for the rest of the guys on the grid?”

tzuyu raises her hands in happiness and says, “let's all have some fun!”

“cute,” you cooed, but then, your face went serious afterwards. “there's no turning back for us now. no risk, no return, and i hope you know i'm fighting for the same thing you're fighting for. let's race!”

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the party was a quiet one, with only most of the women in the grid attending. it was held at a small speakeasy at a hotel, and hyunnie rented it all for the night. pretty impressive, as she was, well, quite occupied with your best friend.

you're left to mingle with a couple of guys from the other teams, saying and wishing well that you have a good time, clinking margheritas.

“hey,” mina, another gem from lagonda vantage, smiles as she makes her way to sit beside you on the bar table. “thank god you're here.”

you looked around to spot her teammate, “kazuha didn't come?”

“she's more of a…” mina then takes a sip of her wine. “couch potato.”

you nodded, understanding the preference of the real rookie, although you know that her teammate was your teammate last few years ago. “well, that's unavoidable,” you laughed, also taking a sip of your own drink. “um, how's everything in vantage?”

“same old, same old green car livery,” mina dismisses. “how's everything at skyline?”

“a whole lot of testing,” you exclaimed and sighed. “a whole lot more than vantage in f2. i'm so shocked to see them make me run a lap just because they read something wrong.”

“you don't get babied there anymore, aww,” mina cooed in sarcasm. “anyways, i know that the car is definitely in deep shit right now for us, so, it's good that you moved there.”

“hey, don't say that,” you deny. “but then, i don't think it's time for me to be a champion yet.”

“it's not you who'd determine that, though, stupid,” mina lightly budges at your arm. “it's the race that does, and you know damn well that you're beating the race even if it means to put a carbon fibre part in your skull.”

“i think everyone does,” you sigh, looking blankly at your drink. “we're not here for a good time. we're here simply to win.”

“jesus,” mina scoffed. “look, i'm doing all of these as a hobby. i’ve only seen a few people be like this with racing, and there's only two of them. you and momo. always talking about the same shit— i'm here to win. you think the same even if you don't get along and that kinda scares me.”

“what…?” you then stared blankly at her as she just nodded at affirmation.

“can i get a sazerac, please? and can you please add a little bit more of the lemon zest? thank you!” you heard a familiar voice order from your back, and mina just full on smiled at you.

mina just tapped your shoulder as she stood up with her drink, off to someone else, “there's your answer.”

you looked down at your own drink. it was a sazerac with a little bit more lemon zest. you think it's a good way to lessen the strongness of the bitters and the cognac.

“oh,” momo sighs deeply, knowing that you were beside her. “good evening, y/n.”

trying to be civil and playing it safe? “good evening too, hirai.” you reply with a smile as you take a sip of your drink. you saw the bartender finally completing hers and you watched her take a sip.

“look,” momo looks directly into your eyes— showing you the littlest, slightest scowl, but her ears tell a different story. it was beet red that you were a tiny bit afraid that all her blood was pumping only in that one part of her body. “i'm not trying to be friends, but,” momo sighs deeply, once more. “i hate being in front of newspapers and these people tell me that i have a bad attitude.”

you scoffed and took a sip of your drink, “what does that have to do with me?”

momo deeply sighs, completely facing you now. “you're the new shining thing. you have all the spotlight from all the media people, and you have their eyes, ears— literally everything locked on you the moment you're on track.”

“do i have to repeat that again, hirai?” you then looked at her once more, half scowling at her at this point. “what does that have to do with me?

────────────────⋆⋅🏁⋅⋆───────────────

momo thought about it until she tucked herself to her hotel bed. she doesn't know anymore.

she doesn't know if she'd feel guilty for treating you badly since that karting race when you were twelve, impeding her advancements to the scaglietti driver program that you rejected, that one overtake in the japan f4 cup, that one crash in f3, and your crash in f2. she has a list in her mind on how she hates and grieves your presence on how she was literally formed because you were beating her.

you sure know how to create warfare in momo's head. she couldn't sleep well that night.

“jesus fucking christ,” you tucked your pillows between both sides of your ear, trying not to hear the noises coming out of your teammate and bestfriend's room. “please stop, my god …”

more sounds came out of the other side, trying to make you uncomfortable in your bed.

the only way is to get out, so you went out of your room, still hearing them in the hallway until you reached the elevator.

you sighed, finally escaping from the noises and you pressed the button to the cool, high place, the top of the hotel. it was nice, windy, and the greenery spread all around, making you calm.

you went and took a rest on one of the padded benches, closing your head eyes but not fully sleeping.

you thought of how momo approached you, surprisingly a little friendlier, like she's really willing for a change. you really were no stranger to change, as you've been recreating and dying for yourself to create another version of you for another day, for other people to fit their needs and preferences.

you think about how adorable momo was when you were younger, karting— her hair held up by sanrio hair clips before she gets on her helmet, and she stomps after getting at the podium for a second place. you know she absolutely hates losing, but that's exactly why she hates you. you're the reminder of her loss, her guilt, and her dissatisfaction in everything.

you sighed as you took a look at the countless stars of the night sky, wishing that you two just grew together normally. like how you and sana did. momo was a constant in every step of your career too, she did well with sana, but how come that she didn't even spare her meaningful conversations with you? how come she can't share her victories with you? how come she didn't want to be in the same space with you yet continued to reach for her dream?

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the next day was qualifying day, and you got up extra early. you savoured on your iced latte while reading some data gathered from the practices yesterday. then you suggested changes from your highlighted, printed out, tabbed fia rulebook (1, because you're a damn nerd; 2, you don't wanna break the rules; 3, you needed to beat their ass if ever they charge you for something ridiculous. it's better to be safe than sorry.)

the moment you changed into your race suit after a couple of interviews, you saw daehyun already suited up right in front of the garage, talking with her twin sister, dahyun.

“good morning guys,” you said to both of them from behind. they were watching the first few guys try out the track for practice already. “oh, good thing that you are both wearing your suits, or else i would have trouble telling you apart.”

“i'm taller though,” hyunnie mentions. “dahyun's a teeny tiny bit smaller.”

“shut up,” dahyun laughs. “anyways, goodluck to you two today,” dahyun gently pats her sister's shoulder and yours. she looks at you, “especially you, rookie.”

you smiled widely, “thanks.” you watched as dahyun waved goodbye before coming back to her team's garage. the integra team, where dahyun is at, is known for their humility and strength— and you're just so shocked at how dahyun contains all of it.

“how come you two don't fight?” you asked hyunnie as you went inside the garage.

“hm,” hyunnie smiles. “we fight only on track because we're sportspeople. not at home, not at parties, not at the dinner table since we're siblings and friends. the only time we got in a big fight was when dahyun crashed our father's car and drove crazy drunk.”

“people,” you repeat. “yeah…”

“you're blanking out, dude,” daehyun laughs, handing you over your gloves by hitting it playfully on your chest. “you go first, team orders.”

“ah, why,” you whined, removing the case of your helmet. “you go first, i was sleep deprived because of you!”

hyunnies eyes went wider, “what.”

“i’ll tell you later.” you teasingly showed her your tongue out then you put on your blue balaclava to cover your face, then your helmet.

you then went inside the car, and started it with the help of the crew getting your steering wheel. they checked everything from breaks, to temperature, to speed, to limits, to literally everything before they gave you the go signal to be on the track for testing.

a couple of teams had already completed their own session, and you were told that you could be sharing the track with scaglietti as they had 2 more laps left. there was no problem as the pace between this car and scaglietti was impressive, as your race engineer said through the radio that you'd gain a whole second after several laps.

“5 laps for you,” lewis, your amazing race engineer, says on the radio. “5 laps for you, y/n. pace increase in the first lap. pit lane exit cleared.”

“i understand, lewis,” you said at the radio, exiting the pitlane safely, starting your lap. “what's the fastest one here?”

“scaglietti's 1:31:23,” lewis clarifies as you make a turn. “it's set by chou.”

“great,” you chuckled, although lewis couldn't hear that on his end clearly as you were driving through your first sector. “what's my expected fastest?”

“1:29,” he says. “the car can push up to 1:29, y/n.”

“that's on medium tyres, right?” you clarified, as you know that on simulator, the car could run way more than 1:29, and it is on soft tires when you tried it out.

“we tested with kim last night and she said that her best lap time is 1:29 on mediums,” lewis says. “tyre degradation is minimal for the first sector, expect the tyres to be warmer on lap 2.”

you were already at the last turn of the first lap, and you throttle fully on the straight. you were focused in getting that 1:29, but the radio breaks out and says, “hirai from jyp is going to share the track with you for your last two laps,” lewis says. “hirai is going to share the track with you.”

“oh hell no,” you sighed under your breath, not even caring if your voice was heard through the radio or not (you surely hope that it wasn't, since the team records all radio for the duration of the races) “what's jyp’s predicted lap time?”

“1:32 on hards,” lewis clarifies on the radio. “that could be lower though, since it was driven by park on the data they've given.”

“oh,” you descend. “right, okay. i’ll try to make the lap time.”

“push as much as you want,” lewis says. “the car can take it.”

lewis wasn't wrong in any way, the car could take it. it was good and smooth on the corners, even on the hards, but there's a bright blue car, lined up with strips in chrome, flying by your side as you finish the lap.

“1:29:22,” lewis said over the radio once more. “box, box now, y/n. session finished.”

you sigh as you went to the pit lane, returning the car to its original place in your garage now that hyunnie was set to exit. you went out of the car, immediately taking off your helmet and the blue balaclava underneath.

“how’s the laps?” you asked your engineer, watching closely at the current world champion’s car gliding fastly on the track.

“it's as predicted, y/n,” he says. “the simulation did well at the temperature degradation as well, but be careful of the dirty air intake on the second sector during the actual race.”

“okay,” you also watch the car on the screen, it's a live feed from the ones in cable, and you see that momo is doing really well on the straights, gaining much more speed as much as you did (you assume). “how's hyunnie doing?”

“oh, well,” lewis looks at the other data board, and checks on with sebastian, hyunnie’s engineer. “you two are the same on the 1st and 3rd sectors, but kim is getting dirty air intake on the second sector as hirai’s ahead.”

you cursed under your breath, “fuck.” you're fucked. momo was a champion way before you stepped flat out on the pedal and worked your laps around. she's not in any less team than scaglietti, and you might just think that she just took all the talent out of jyp to set a stunning 1:28:12. A whole second in front of you.

that's something momo does. she's always been ahead.

────────────────⋆⋅🏁⋅⋆───────────────

that leads you to a spot on the grid, front row, but it sure is annoying to see that smug face just show on screen as she puts on her helmet for the race. you saw her as you were reviewing the strategy for the race today.

but despite all the anger, you can't deny that momo was an attractive entity. underneath that bright pastel pink and purple helmet was a woman with such a strong will to win. that image of her plunging in the ice bath, only in her compression underwear pops in your head. (you saw it on their social media okay, it's not something to be guilty about.) but you wriggle your head side to side still, brushing off the thought.

a formation lap later, your heart beats a thousand times more, and your throat gets a little stuck as you see the same red lights that indicate the start. this was it. you are so ready to see it.

and finally, “lights out and away we go!”

it felt like you're in the right place, playing the right game as on the first corner, you nearly overtook momo. but she won't let you do that and didn't even break a sweat.

it was safe to say that you're given a little bit of caution since you are a rookie, same thing with tzuyu on fifth, as it was said that she was keeping the other positions captive in their states as she was conducting a drs train. pretty impressive defence, but what's more impressive is that momo's on her 17th lap out of 57, and she's not even bothering to box.

better late than sorry, you go to the pit lane to get your overly worn set of soft tires into medium ones, just like what you practised last time and set the fastest lap time.

in the 52nd lap of the race, you and momo were chasing each other, quite literally, as she was going wheel to wheel with you. it has been going on for a few couple of laps already, and momo's worried that if the cars could talk, they'd already be best friends.

“let her pass,” lewis commanded over the radio. “just a teeny tiny bit, y/n.”

you just hummed and braked late on the next turn, making momo purposefully go ahead. you sacrificed a few milliseconds to gain a whole couple of seconds to push the whole car in the straight sections, and approaching that turn in front of momo locked in your chance to be the future world champion for the season.

“fuck,” you hold onto the steering wheel ever so tightly as you turned, just grazing behind momo's tires, going ahead of her. “did i do it?”

“smoked a little but you're in p1,” lewis says. “p1 is secured, go flat out.”

you were handed the mic as you fitted your cap, “how does it feel like to be the first winner of the season?”

“ah,” you smiled. “of course i'm very thankful for the team, to daehyun who kept her place defending, and for lewis keeping me in check for the whole race. thank you for the gochiya skyline team for guiding me on this journey.”

“that’s such a great thing for you, y/n,” the interviewer complimented. “you had an amazing drive from the last laps that you encountered on the track. it was a genius and smart race. what more could we expect from you in the future?”

“some more great racing,” you chuckled. “and some more wins, maybe even a championship if the races let me.”

momo, on the other side, tried to put on a face— one that smiles, but you just know the side of her lip was twitching to frown and launch at you when you went up the podium and received your trophy and medal.

momo couldn't sleep that night.

she hates that she has to see that smug little smile on your face after you knew you won over her, she hates the way you pop the champagne gently, careful to not spray her so hard, and how your hand brushed on hers kindly when you said your little ‘congratulations’ in your soft voice.

she hates that you fill her head ever so dearly like she doesn't feel guilt when she sees you.

────────────────⋆⋅🏁⋅⋆───────────────

“what do you mean you heard us last night?” sana argues, laughing as you two made your way to the hotel elevator going to your floor. you had a couple of drinks with your best friend at the bar, and had a little celebration as well.

“sorry i have ears,” you jokingly plug your ears with your fingers. “you owe me those earplugs. i didn't know that you two were an … item.”

sana laughs. “what, you sincerely thought that i was fucking around with that jimmy choo model i told you?”

“i mean, she's hot,” you commented. “and definitely your type, so, who am i to question. but hyunnie?”

“yeah, why,” sana raised her eyebrow at you, suspecting. “she’s also hot and good at everything, especially in be-”

you rolled your eyes in sarcasm, “oh shut up,” you whined. “i don't need to know that.”

“hyunnie and i were talking about something last night,” sana laughs as you two go out of the elevator as you've reached your floor. “we kinda are still on that ‘y/n and momo would kiss someday’ agenda, but please hear me out,” she sighs, standing in front of you as she knows you'd deem it ridiculous and look at her with your eyes rolled upwards, showing your utter disgust. “we remembered momo literally smoked someone from vantage last year just because she didn't like them. that's why they played the villain card on her in the stupid documentary. but then, the guy's really just ass and mina complained about him too so, point valid…”

you looked at her, grounded her by holding her on her shoulders, “minatozaki, please tell me what you're trying to say.”

“yeah, right,” she then snaps back. “if she really didn't like you, she wouldn't even bother to save face or be civil with you. even though i was all up and cuddly with hyunnie last night, i saw you two. momo has never made a move like that because she doesn't like begging, and you know that too.”

“maybe she's just helping herself, you know,” you chuckled. “it's really not that deep.”

“you're so…” sana hits you lightly. “you've been so empathetic with me but how come you can't see through momo?”

────────────────⋆⋅🏁⋅⋆───────────────

you thought about that for days on end. how come you haven't seen through momo like you did with everyone else?

maybe it's the time, maybe it's the banter, or maybe, you're just too deep in thought when you're facing her. you're even so shocked when you realized just how self conscious you are around momo— you're hyper aware of how you look, if your clothes look decent, or if you smell good. like you're having a little crush.

it was already mid-season. you and momo were alternating from winning races. it was so funny because the fans say that you two give up each other's places so that you could create an alternating pattern, but that isn't really the case.

“ah, i'm really going crazy,” you sighed, finally taking a hit with your golf club after contemplating. you went out with jeongyeon, a fellow racer from the estrella racing team, and her teammate, nayeon. “i mean, you two know i've been doing really well, but i don't know. i can’t sleep and all.”

nayeon straight up laughs after taking a shot as well, the ball flying to the air, back to the ground, “sana was right, you are silly.”

you looked at them, puzzled as jeongyeon laughs with her wife, wrapping an arm around her waist. damn, they were even in sync leaning back as they laughed.

“you're just like her,” nayeon points to jeongyeon. “that's what she said exactly to me when she confessed.”

jeongyeon then finally stops throwing a laughing fit and puts a grounding hand on your shoulder, “maybe you two need a moment. like an actual talking moment. there's something to unpack between the two of you.”

you get antsy just thinking of it. maybe it was really something you needed, something you craved, but you just can't bring your mouth to say it.

────────────────⋆⋅🏁⋅⋆───────────────

being in formula 1 isn't just about the racing, of course, it's also a lifestyle. now, you figured it isn't easy to get out of momo's sight. you basically have the same social circle, and every single break between races, there's got to be a time where you parked beside each other, sat close to each other, talked to a common person, got the same drink, and said the same things.

“you act like you can't see me.” momo laughs silently, taking a sip of her drink. it was a night before going off to the race, and surprisingly, you also live at the same compound as her, and you were itching to get a drink. that's why you're at the local bar.

“just didn't want to bother you,” you sighed, getting more comfortable on your barstool as you ordered another drink. “you told me that, right? you don't wanna be bothered.”

“on the race, yes,” she sighs. “what, you wanna race me here too?”

“oh, no,” you laughed, immediately dismissing the idea. “i can’t go home shitfaced. i still need to pack my things.”

“you really are a crammer,” she mentioned. you looked at her, quite puzzled at how she knew about it. “sana told me, you know.”

“what,” you then turned to her, meeting the pool of her deep dark brown eyes that matched her leather jacket. “why?”

“i- um-,” she scratched the back of her nape as you observed the slight tinge of red shading the back of her ear. “visited you, when you crashed.”

“oh,” you uttered, holding your breath under your tongue. “um, well, thank you.”

“no need,” momo chuckles. “i'm the one who needs to thank you.”

you asked, “why?”

“nothing.” she shyly looks away from you once more and takes a drink. “aren't you scared?”

you looked at her, seemingly shocked at the question, “of what?”

“crashing,” she mused. “we're off to belgium and i guess you're quite sca-”

“i am,” you claimed, smiling as you looked at her. “i'm scared that i might do one split second decision that could absolutely ruin the whole race, the whole season again.”

momo turns to you again, “you're not afraid of dying?”

“a little,” you take a sip of your whiskey as you contemplate. “i would be more worried about the people blaming themselves, though. some of them don't know that i'm thick skulled and i want to do everything including the risks,” you said. “that one in spa isn't yours, it never was, so never feel guilty about it now that you've seen me.”

her eyebrows clinched together in the middle of her forehead, and her lips turned into a mocking smirk, “what?”

“you know it,” you return the same smirk at her. “that's why you're trying to be nice, aren't you? that's why you're working your ass off trying to tell me about the weather when we're on track, trying to pair up with me in those silly little games that the marketing team says. momo, you don't need to deny. i don't want you to feel guilty for me.”

“who the hell are you to say that i feel guilty because of you?” she scoffed.

“you reek of it,” you held her wrist, making her look at you. “and i hate to see it. you weren't this cautious with me before, momo. i hate that you have to sacrifice your breaks, your speed, just because you don't want the same thing happening. i want you to fight.”

she catches the lump in her throat and gulps, the rim of her eyes threatening to spill the tears, “i can’t do that anymore.” she removed your hold on her wrist and ran away to the door of the bar.

you then leave several bills on the table, letting the bartender know that you're leaving too, and you chase momo, who was just running a few blocks away.

you then start your car, pulling up and honking the horn as you roll down your window. “hirai!” you called out.

she then stops on her tracks, sitting down at the nearby bench. her eyes were bloodshot in tears, and you immediately came to her, taking her in the car.

you swore under your breath as you pulled out a box of tissues in your glove compartment, handing it to her as you reached out for her seatbelt.

“i'm sorry,” you sighed as you continued to drive, and momo wipes off her tears. “i, um-”

“i know,” she chuckles. “you're guilty too, huh?”

“i guess it's just fair to say that,” you said. “mind telling me?”

“about what?”

“how you've been, since that day.”

“well,” she sighs. “guilty. like by a lot,” she laughs. “i shouldn't have let you. sana wanted to get you away from it but she was that much of a tolerator that she wouldn't mind crashing with you.”

“ah, well,” you paused for a while, greeting a red light as you thought. sana did talk to you about it, but she ended up getting upset with you as well before the race. “we actually fought.”

“oh,” she laughs again. “come to think of it, i should've collided with you during that practice, you know? that was a close call.”

you just nodded, it really was a close call as she was so aggressive with her drive that day.

“there's a lot we need to ponder on.” you sighed, lightening your grip on the steering wheel.

momo then looks at you, “wanna ditch the flight?”

that's how you ended up in momo's flat, playing mario kart and downing a couple cans of beer.

“no fair,” she pouts, seeing the result— it was wario who took the lead, and princess peach for the second. “i had the first place for like… most of the game!”

“it's all fair in mario kart,” you smirked as you stood up and looked at your watch. it was already 1:00am, and your flight to belgium with your team is at 3:00am. “i wish i could stay for longer but look,” you showed her the time on your wrist. “it’s a bit late.”

she then held your wrist, the one with the watch, seemingly not wanting you to leave just yet. “nice watch,” she laughs as she traces her fingers on the cold steel band of it. “it’s not late. come on, i didn't think you were this boring.” she then pulls you down again and hands you the blue nintendo switch remote. “just one more round.”

momo's one more round turned into two, to three, to four, and you didn't seem to mind the time anymore until you're bombarded with calls from your team manager.

“stay the night,” momo smiles as she takes the cans of beer with you to her trash can. “it's late anyway. plus, you won't catch that flight.”

“i know,” you laughed. “i’ll sleep on the couch.”

“no,” she insisted. “my bed is big enough.”

“alright,” you just nodded, as you were also getting caught on with sleep. “do you have like… a spare toothbrush though? i can't go to sleep with my mouth smelling like beer.”

“yeah,” she cackled and led you to her bathroom. “i keep these things if ever someone asks me to hand them over one.” she handed you a dental care set, complete with a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a mouthwash in a small pouch.

“you're unbelievable,” your jaw dropped in just pure shock. you didn't know momo was this much of a girl scout. “you're ready for everything, huh.”

“of course,” she smiled. “just call me if you ever need anything else, hm?”

that night, you learned that: momo's a clean person and everything in her room was organised through and through, she likes to take the right side of the bed, and that she has trouble sleeping.

you've been lying on your side for what it seems like forever, and you don't even know why you can't sleep. you've shared beds with your friends for most of your life, most of them with the impeccable cuddle monster minatozaki sana, which you thought was the final boss when it comes to sharing beds.

but she says, “hey, aren't you asleep yet?”

“no, not yet,” you responded, still laying on your side. “i'm thinking of a good excuse.”

momo scoffed, “just don't. just tell them you'll book a direct flight to belgium.”

“that's rude.”

“it's not like they're gonna remove you out of the team,” she laughed. “if you really want it to be believable, try to lie. like your dog had an emergency or something.”

“i don't raise a dog on my own,” you then laughed and faced her side, surprised that she was also facing you. “they won't believe me.”

“then, tell them that you're with me.” she says.

“they're not going to believe that,” you grinned. “plus, i don't think that they'd take that as valid, you know.”

“then, what is?”

“i’d probably just tell them that i got something else to do.”

momo chuckles, “like what?”

“nintendo,” you laughed. “i mean, that's a valid enough reason, right?”

that's how you ended up with your limbs and arms tangled with momo's body.

you come to your senses as you feel a warm breath fanning your neck, and you slowly open your eyes into the morning light. you checked on your watch, surprisingly still there on your wrist, and it shocked you. it was already 12am.

it was 10:00 am, and yet the current world champion is cuddled up in her bed with you.

momo then grunts, stretching out her arms and legs but still keeping ahold of you by your wrist, and she opens her eyes, immediately dropping your hand and her hold.

“good morning?” you smiled.

“good morning,” she forces a smile back, immediately sitting down in nervousness? embarrassment? excitement? honestly, she doesn't know. she then clears her throat and asks, “slept well, rookie?”

“yeah, um,” you cleared your throat too and sat up, feeling the mattress beneath you. “you have a good bed.”

“you're lucky,” she stretches. “you're the first one to know that.”

what? “um,” you gulped. “sorry?”

“sana always slept on the couch when she comes over,” she chuckles. “i owe you breakfast, let's go.”

“and a flight,” you corrected and she nodded, making her way to her kitchen. “you'll cook?”

“of course,” she laughs, taking out some thickly sliced bacon, and some eggs. she saw you quite skeptical about her choice of breakfast, “why, would you like something else?”

“uh,” you thought for a little while. sliced bacon and eggs are exactly what you needed, but, “do you have some coffee?”

“yep,” she says. “if you'd be of some help, then you could make our coffee.”

you then nodded and she handed you over two mugs, getting ready for coffee as she heats a pan on her stove.

“ah, this is great,” momo says as she looks over her window, drinking her cup of coffee and eating her sandwich. “ever had a breakfast this great?”

“yeah,” you smiled. “in monaco, my hotel was just overviewing the whole city so…”

“i won that one though,” she teased. “how's the dnf?”

“awful,” you joked. “like really, it's my first race there and the engine suddenly fails me. that's pure unluckiness.”

“don't worry,” she comforts. “you'll stick around for a long, long time.”

“i know,” you chuckled. “unless i don't find the spark in it anymore.”

“same,” she then looks at you, bringing her cup of coffee down on her wooden table once more. “who do you think will win the race this week?”

you bat your eyelashes at her, “wanna bet?”

“oh, of course,” she laughs. “i’d bet $100 on you.”

“okay,” you then laughed too. “i’ll bet $200 on you, too.”

she looked at you, puzzled, “why?”

“you didn't say that i couldn't bet on you,” you sighed. “and based on the race status, you're ahead of me by several points, you won last week, then, it's just right for me to nominate you.”

she stretches her hand, “deal?”

and you shook it with yours, “deal.”

────────────────⋆⋅🏁⋅⋆───────────────

“y/n,” daehyun, back at the hotel, looks you in the eyes and sits in front of you. “why the hell did you come with hirai momo, and even riding the same plane as hers? and she even took you to her private pl-”

“yes, i know, but please calm down,” you held her by the shoulders and made her a little grounded so you could talk to her. “we sorted things out,” you sighed. “and it went well. we stayed up all night playing nintendo, so i missed the flight and she let me stay.”

“she let you what?”

you looked at her, puzzled. “let me stay?”

“did you kiss?”

“no,” you dismissed. “that's weird.”

“ah, fuck,” she sighs. “really?”

“yes, really,” you said. “please don't be weird about it. she's trying to really change for the better, you know?”

she smiles and stood up, “yeah, alright, i get it,” she said. “lewis is so pissed with you though, good luck with that.”

hyunnie wasn't lying. your race engineer called you unprofessional the moment you step at the team garage for the day, but you sorted it out by saying you had to attend to something personal. (in this case, the personal was playing nintendo with the current world champion, but you didn't say that part because he didn't ask for it anymore.)

friday came and practices were on. you worried as it was your first race in this car with this weather— surprisingly cold and overly wet. the track was wet, the seat inside of the car was wet, and everything just slid. just like before your crash.

the fear creeps up through your veins, but it doesn't let you not hold onto the wheel. you raced, as promised and as dealt with in your bet with momo. you don't want to lose a couple of hundred dollars because of her.

it rained on the track heavily over the weekend. you successfully finished and secured a pole position for the sunday race, with momo taking place just behind you on the grid in third.

“44 laps, y/n, we're opting for a safe plan a,” lewis says over the radio. “keep your tires guarded and we'll do two stops if needed.”

“okay,” you said. “is the rain expected to worsen during the race?”

“not exactly,” lewis confirmed. “but expect it to seem a little heavier on laps 22 to 34, since the downpour is expected to be harder on those parts.”

“got it,” you said. “careful and fast.” you repeat to yourself until it was lights out.

two things were on your mind during the race: one, is that the rain will get worse and potentially knock people off the track so you're extra careful, and two, why was hirai momo so damn slow?

in lap 29, the rain started pouring harder, but you continued to lead. as expected, the tyres held on for longer as it wasn't that hot nor too slippery, and it feels as if you're just gliding on the ground.

“box, box.” lewis says on the radio, and you immediately put the button ‘okay’ to pit.

you enter the pit lane safely, but you saw a huge spin off just not so far away from the pit exit. it wasn't a crash (thankfully), but it was a spin-off causing drivers to pass by that leading driver.

“who's that?” you asked over the radio as you exited the pit lane safely.

“it was hirai,” lewis updated. “nothing too serious, no calls since she re-entered the track.”

“okay,” you said. your heart skipped a beat the moment you heard her name, but then, you're just glad that she's back on track. “am i still p1?”

“yes,” lewis confirms. “expected to keep p1 till the end of the race.”

you then wondered, “who's behind?”

“hirai,” lewis says over the radio. this is where it starts. “team ordered to switch. watch out for eau rouge.”

“got it.” you confirmed over the radio.

────────────────⋆⋅🏁⋅⋆───────────────

“what the hell, hirai?”

“don't what the hell at me,” she guilty hangs her head down, sitting with her legs apart at the cool down area. you didn't care if the cameras were on you, or if someone just came in, but you were so mad that you couldn't even get yourself to take the ‘1st’ cap on your head. “i was just trying to not cr-”

“please don't do this here,” sana, after successfully overtaking for the third place, mediates the hot headed arguments. “let's just get this done and go home, okay?”

“okay, sorry,” you stepped down from that attitude and fixed your cap on your head. “it's just tha-”

sana interferes as she pushes her pointer finger on your chest, “save it.”

this is the first time you've ever received a trophy where you felt awful. not because you were upset with a fellow driver, but because it feels like a repayment for guilt.

you went back to the hotel with a heavy heart even after celebrating with your team, but you still can't tuck away that feeling— one rooting from the unjustified move from hirai momo, breaking and not taking the chance to fight for the position that you had.

she was about to do an overtake just after the eau rouge, but she didn't even try to fight, causing her breaks to lock up, but she was quick to recover to second place. you think it's entirely stupid, yes, she doesn't want to crash into you, but then she did that without thinking of the other drivers behind her. you knew that there would be a significant lag to recover after locking up, which had you worried about that move.

momo: meet me here

📍tavern solo, stavelot

you: why would i?

momo: free drink?

you: i could buy one myself.

momo: i've got your hundred dollars and an explanation. isn't that enough?

that was the momo you know. never backing out even after saying no. on the way to the bar, it was cold, and your hands were nearly freezing when you saw momo at one of the tables, waiting patiently as she looked outside, two drinks ready on the table.

“hey,” you sighed, taking the seat in front of her. “was i late?”

“no,” she smiles. “i’m sorry,” she says. “i know you wanted to have a good race and i rui-”

“i understand,” you sighed once more, a little deeper as you sipped on the cocktail. “you just wanted us to be safe. i get it.”

“but still,” she refutes. “that's so unsportsmanlike from me.”

“well, yes,” you chuckled. “there's always a next race to catch.”

“i want you to fight even if it makes my head fly to your lap, y/n!” she suddenly screams, shocking you and other people in the pub.

“momo,” you suddenly went and held her by the shoulders to ground her. “i know it's upsetting but,” you said. “do you trust me?”

“um,” she thought for a while. “yeah…?”

“okay, great,” you chuckled. “you have your car with you?”

“no, my hotel's close by.”

“great,” you then held her wrist, dragging her outside of the pub. you were careful and stopped in front of your car, opening the door for her to sit down. “get inside.”

momo's just in shock. she's fine with trusting you, but, she's conflicted. for all she knows, you could've taken a blow on her stomach or something (it's definitely going to be or something) but she also knows that you're a good person.

she intently watched you as you went to the driver's side, carefully sitting and starting the engine. she realizes it wasn't her first time inside this car. you were known to take this car on cargo with the team's. it was a nissan r34 skyline, beautifully detailed in metallic blue (she thinks it's your favorite color), with a twin turbo inline six engine.

“well,” you say, clearing the air a little. momo can't hide the fact that she was tense. “do you need the ac to be a little higher?”

“no,” she hesitated. “actually, yes, please…”

“okay, if this helps you to relieve,” i sighed. “i'm gonna pay a visit to one of my old friends.”

“and…?”

“he owns a karting track,” you laughed, seeing momo sigh in relief. “if you thought i’d kill you, well, i should've done that way, way back.”

“why didn't you?”

“was there a valid reason?” you ridiculously say. “i mean, apart from anything else that we've been through, i don't hold any grudges from that.”

“well, okay,” she chuckled. “why take me there?”

“show me just how much you wanna beat me.”

“why?”

“i just wanna see,” you laughed. “and i told you. never feel guilty for what you've done before. give me all you've got, ‘kay?”

“okay.”

a few minutes (and a few awkward stares and silences) later, you've arrived at your friend's karting track. as expected, there were no other people who were karting as it was already past midnight, just the lights open, and a person with a towel covered on their face.

“mick,” you called out. “mick!”

“oh,” the guy quickly removed the towel, and immediately fixed his hair to look at you, processing what he was seeing. “oh! hey,” he stands, finally getting out of his desk and greets you with a hug. “been a while since i've seen you here. won the race?”

“definitely,” you smiled. “what have you been up to?”

“oh, you know,” he smiles. “someone's got to keep the place’s lights on.” he pointed at the lights of the karting track. he's runs it with his dad, who was also his mentor and a great mentor to other young racers as well.

“no i mean,” you said. “racing gigs.”

“wec, wrc, heck even indycar teams were calling me,” he sighs. “but i don't think i'm ready for that yet.” he confirms, looking to your left. “ms. hirai!” he comes over to shake her hand, happy as he can be. “i'm mick,” he introduced. “part owner of the track and y/n’s friend from vantage!”

“nice to meet you,” momo partly smiles. “you look familiar. have i met you somewhere?”

“oh, right,” he says, remembering the instances where he passes by momo. “we competed together in the junior karting series. i entered the formulas a year after you two though, so i think that's it?"

“oh, that explains why.” momo says, and you nod.

“okay,” you clasped your hands together, bringing the attention to yours. “i told you we'd race, right?”

“yup.” momo nodded.

“then,” you took her wrist again, now walking slowly towards the helmet and suit section. “gear up.”

momo then changes into a fitting racing suit as you do so too, and she puts on a pink helmet, while you put on a red helmet to match the suit.

mick guided you through the controls of the kart (even though you two were very much familiar with it already) as a precaution, and you two started a lap to determine who'd take the lead on the opening.

you were off to a good start, and momo was pushing hard as well, which was predicted. you wanted her to fight and she gave you exactly that.

not only did she lead that opening lap, but after 40 laps, she did dominate the hell out of you in the kart. you didn't think it was a whack, of course, she's still momo— 2 time world champion, three, possibly if she doesn't fuck it up (which is very unlikely, because she's just that good).

“oh, man,” you threw yourself onto the grass of the open spot between the track after your little session, breathing loudly as you sighed, taking the spot beside momo. she hands you over a cold bottle of water. “thanks,” you smiled in comfort, finally feeling the bottle's coldness as you finished the race. “feel better?”

“you bet,” she laughs. “how about you?”

“hm, feeling great,” you smiled, looking up at the stars. it wasn't any different from what you've seen from any part of the world, but it was a great sight to see. “wow…”

momo shot up her eyes to the sky as well, watching the clouds thread through it and the stars shining its familiar light.

“i have a weird question,” you say. “do you think there are other people much crazier than us when it comes to racing?”

“everyone on the track is,” momo laughs. “you just pay attention to the ones who you're really close with in competition.”

“hm, makes sense.” you then turn to her side, admiring her as she looks at the stars.

she turns to you, admiring your eyes and how it slowly droops to match your little pout, “you tired?”

“a bit.”

“rest,” she taps on her shoulder twice. “don't worry, i won't hit you in your sleep or something.”

still, you were suspicious. “you sure?”

she just nodded and pulled you to her side, slowly guiding your head to lean on her.

you laughed and just succumbed at her warmth as you wrapped your arms around her waist comfortably, the peach scent of her shampoo lacing you into a deep, peaceful and fulfilling nap.

[mick-ey schumi sent a photo]

mick: you two look cute…

you: shut it please

mick: you bet i won't

this is louvre worthy

you: ??? shut up

mick: told you, you bet i won't

sana was right

maybe you two should kiss

#momo #twice momo #momo imagines #momo fluff #momo angst #momo series #twice imagines #twice fluff #twice angst

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ddejavvu · 8 months

Note

Hi, i never really do this, but i was wondering if you could write something about remus comforting reader when she gets stood up?(totally not projecting 🥲) And then he ends up confessing that he likes her?

You're supposed to be out on a date. Remus knows this, because he'd been stalking off to the library to distract himself from the thought, but he'd stumbled upon you perched on a windowsill in the hallway outside of the library.

You don't look sad, but you don't look happy. You just look focused, but Remus sees your hand tremble as you turn the page of the book you're reading.

"Hey," He makes his presence known with a soft hum, walking up to stand beside you where you're nestled into the windowsill, "What happened to Hogsmeade?"

"Alexei didn't show," You inform him, voice carefully constructed to be nonchalant, "I got tired of waiting out in the snow."

Remus sets his hand over your free one that's sitting on your lap, feeling your skin chilled from the snow outside.

"Douche," Remus mumbles, but you catch it in the silence of the hallway and snort.

Remus takes your hand in his own and cups it, creating a soft, warm place for it to rest. You don't bother pushing him away, but if were anyone else, you'd tell them in no uncertain terms to fuck off and leave you alone to wallow.

"I wouldn't have done that," Remus doesn't know why he says it, but he does. He thinks it's probably equal parts sympathy and honesty; he's saying it to make you feel better, but it's not a lie.

"You wouldn't have asked me out to Hogsmeade on a Saturday morning," You laugh incredulously, quite possibly missing his point, "I'm surprised you're up this early, Remus, I don't usually see you before lunchtime."

"Well, I couldn't sleep," He grumbles somewhat bashfully, "I had a lot on my mind."

"Sorry," You hum sympathetically, your fingers curling around his to lock your hands together, "I would have brought you something from Honeydukes if I'd have known. Or- if I'd have gone."

He leans closer to you, and you relish how natural it is for you to tilt your head against his shoulder. He peers at the book you're reading, finding it to be a textbook rather than a novel, and groans.

"You still fancy a drink?" Remus asks, his voice almost hesitant as you lay against him on the windowsill.

"Hm? At the Three Broomsticks?"

"Yeah," Remus hums, "You shouldn't be studying for the charms exam yet, it's not for two weeks. You deserve a good day. And- uh, well, hopefully I'm good company."

Your eyes shine exceptionally bright when you tilt your head up to look at Remus, and he can't think of a single reason that Alexei, or anyone else in their right mind would have blown you off.

"You're excellent company, Remus," You gush, scrambling to stuff your things back into your bag, "I'll treat at Honeydukes, 'kay?"

"No, no," Remus shakes his head, "Don't worry about it. I meant it, you deserve a good day."

"Thanks," You slide down off of the windowsill, your hand still firmly interlocked with his own. You make no move to let go, merely tugging him down the hallway towards the staircases, "Are you sure you don't mind taking me? Weren't you headed to the library?"

"Not for anything important," Remus brushes away your concern, just to figure out a way to curse Alexei for the rest of the school year with bad breath and terrible hair.

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thatsonemorbidcorvid · 11 months

Note

why is headless women art bad? i can see why it's seen as objectifying but why is it such a big deal to make art out of the female form? (sorry if i sound agressive this is a genuine question)

Hi anon! You certainly don’t sound aggressive - I’m actually very grateful for the opportunity to collate my current thoughts in one place, so thank you for the prompt. I’m going to try my hardest to keep this short.

For any women who haven’t seen posts on this topic previously, some examples of the ‘headless women art’ trend I’ve been talking about for a while now are below. They’re often missing their limbs, at various points of amputation, as well as all or part of their heads (if she has her eyes, I generally don’t count it). Sometimes their heads have been ‘replaced’ with other objects, typically plants or mushrooms, though I wouldn’t count a woman with an animal or bird’s head. They’re often naked.

So, per Anon’s question, why is it a ‘big deal’?

I mean, really, it’s not. It’s an absolutely minuscule deal - it’s as dwarfed by the issues of the sex industry, femicide, and systemic sex inequality, as we are by the Sun. And yet, much as our bodies are made of particles formed in dying stars, I see elements of the large within the small… ok, I’m not getting poetic.

It’s not a big deal, and I don’t necessarily think it’s wholly terrible either, which is why in my analysis posts on the topic I try to ask questions more than criticise, and criticise gently when I do so. What it comes down to is that I spotted a pattern, and wanted to acknowledge that pattern, think about it, and ask other women for their thoughts on it.

With that said, there are certain things that I question particularly, and have seen other women question, which I’ll list:

Remove her legs and she can’t run, remove her arms and she can’t fight, remove her mouth and she can’t shout, and remove her eyes and she can’t look back at you. You totally disempower her when you remove almost every body part capable of action.

By removing her head you also remove her brain (her personality and internal identity), and her face (her visible external identity). By anonymising her you strip her of her individuality, and depict all female people as a result - so what message are you sending about all female people with your depiction of us, naked and dismembered?

A (living) woman’s neutral existence requires her to have her head. By removing it, you are making an active choice to step away from the neutral (and it’s on you to defend that choice), and you are also by necessity depicting a dead woman. You ask about ‘art out of the female form’ - the living female form has a head. Why remove it?

The simplest test of whether something might be sexist, is to see whether it applies to men and women equally. Are (straight) men decorating their homes with ‘bits’ of male bodies? Do men in general feel conscious enough of, yet alienated enough from, the appearance of their bodies that they seek out their representation, sans heads, to reflect back at them? Why not, if women are? Would it be strange if they did?

As a follow up, since many of these pieces are made by women (often straight women), are (straight) men often focusing their artistic output on depicting ‘bits’ of male bodies? Do men regularly choose to create art intended to depict the ‘beauty’ of the male form? If not, why not?

You mention objectification - what links are there between objectification and violence? Could self-objectification be used to normalise violence against the self, or even excuse it? What about violence against others who are like the self (ie violence against other women)?

As I say, I’m not necessarily saying this artistic trend is exclusively a bad one, or that people/women in particular shouldn’t be decorating their homes however they please. It’s just something I’ve noted and found interesting, and like many apparently free choices, I think feminist women have a responsibility to interrogate their own and others’ motivations.

This is a hasty overview, and I’ve probably missed things - I’ll reblog with additions if I think of any, but you can also see my previous posts on this topic, and other women’s contributions, under my “Headless Women Art” tag. Thanks again for the question!

#headless women art

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yesimwriting · 2 months

Note

When best friend Felix and reader kiss (not a kiss on the cheek or forehead) does reader ever initiate it? I kind of notices it usually Felix who does.

yes!! i just see felix as so touchy he'd kiss reader more out of instinct, but reader for sure kisses felix

----

The washcloth is pressed against you temple. The fabric is dragged downwards, creating a damp trail from the spot above your left eyebrow to your chin.

Felix's expression pinches in concentration. He pulls the washcloth away from your face to examine the other side. His frown tells you all you need to know. "It's not coming off, is it?"

His lips part, and you mentally prepare yourself for the instinctual, teasing protests you're used to. "...Kind of," he admits slowly, his other hand moving to hold your chin. Felix is careful as he angles your head so that it's easier to examine his handiwork. "It's smudged."

He refocuses, the unmarked part of the towel finding a place near your jaw. You have to give him credit for even thinking of the makeup there. "Told you, it's not as quick and easy as it looks."

"And I told you," Felix counters, towel dipping beneath your chin, "I've got this."

There's such a heavy sense of determination in his voice, it's hard to not give into the fit of giggles attempting to crawl its way up your throat. This started as a joke, Felix insisting you could sit with him for five more minutes and you arguing that you needed to wash product off your face before the post-party sleepiness could kick in.

You grin, a small laugh slipping past your lips. Felix pauses, the cloth temporarily leaving your skin. "Lovie."

Another laugh. "What?"

"Hold still."

You can't remember a time in which washing your face relied so extensively on total stillness. Instead of pointing this out, you smile. "I am."

Felix frowns, fixing you with a look of such reprimanding disbelief you have to bite your tongue to keep from laughing again. You extend your arms, hands settling against his arms. "See?" Things feel a little less funny as his eyes meet yours. You swallow, chin raising a fraction of an inch. "Perfectly still."

He presses his lips lips together. There's something about his expression that you're not fully grasping. The awareness that you're missing something doesn't feel right. You focus on the set of his brow, on the look behind his eyes, on the way that his head angles itself forward so that he somehow feels even closer.

He moves slowly, lifting the rag to dab at the space beneath your eye. The unflinching care in his touch makes everything feel a little hazy. "Look up." It's instinct to listen. Felix drags the washcloth near your waterline. He's careful, taking his time in removing any remaining makeup. "Okay, y'can look down again."

Your eyes begin to flit downwards, but before they can land on something neutral, your eyes lock on Felix again. His eyebrows are still drawn together, his lips are now set in what almost feels like a pout. "Lex?"

The washcloth is dabbed against your forehead. "Hm?"

You're not sure where the overwhelming urge to be closer to him is coming from, you just know you're in no place to fight against it. "I'm going to move."

Instead of asking for a clarification or jokingly complaining about your warning, he moves the washcloth away from your skin. Felix rests his forearm against your shoulder, patiently waiting for you to follow through.

Before you can overthink, you shift onto your toes, leaning upwards until your lips are against his. Felix reciprocates immediately, his arm moving to press against your back. His free hand finds a place against the back of your head. You link your fingers behind his neck.

You drag your tongue against his bottom lip, savoring the faint taste of alcohol blending with something familiar and sweet. The result of the way drinking amplifies his hard candy addiction.

Felix leans closer, his weight pressing against you. It's instinct to take a partial step back to accommodate him. Your side hits something firm. The bathroom counter. His hands find your side, helping you lift yourself onto the counter. He takes a step forward, slotting himself between your legs.

When the need for air becomes dizzying, you pull back. Felix doesn't let you get far, turning his head to brush his lips against the corner of your mouth and then your cheek. Again and again until he eventually pulls away enough to rest his forehead against yours.

For a moment, there's only the sound of uneven breathing, and then Felix straightens enough to look at you. "What was--what was that for?"

You don't have an answer. At the very least, you don't have a coherent one. He was there and making you happy in that unjustifiably giddy way he does and somehow still so pretty beneath the harsh fluorescents of a dorm room bathroom. You wanted to, and knowing that Felix would reciprocate turned the offhanded desire into a need.

You shrug, ignoring the heat making its way up your neck. "You're very good at makeup removal."

Felix's hand finds your knee, thumb gently brushing against your skin. "Really? I've never done this before." His hand shifts upwards slightly, fingers squeezing the start of your thigh. "Must be a natural talent."

It'd be easy to point out the fact that he managed to lose the washcloth and that you're sure you look more like a raccoon than someone without makeup, but you're too content to bring those things up. You smile, settling on an only somewhat sarcastic, "Clearly."

His eyes narrow, a grin desperately trying to be anything else tugging at his lips. "No need for that tone."

"What?" Your voice comes out at a suspicious pitch. "You're doing a good job..." You trail off beneath Felix's steady stare. "...And I have to wash my face after anyway, so as long you're having fun."

Felix halfheartedly glares. "I'm doing all of it."

His resolve makes you laugh. Maybe he's tipsier than you thought. "You're going to wash my face?"

"Don't laugh." The sentence is followed by a huff of air that comes dangerously close to violating his own instructions.

You press your lips together in an attempt to seem serious, even here's a good chance Felix can see right through that. "Sorry." You decide, then, that you don't mind the thought of Felix attempting to complete your skin care routine for you. It's worth it. "You can wash my face."

Felix watches you skeptically, unaccustomed to your lack of arguing. "Okay," he says, straightening slightly, "Good."

----

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny @lilyrachelcassidy @khxna @imbabycowboy

#bestfriend!felix #bestfriend!felix x reader #saltburn x reader #felix catton x reader #felix catton #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi

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lazycats-stuff · 9 months

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Batfamily

Batfamily & male!reader, part 2, part 3, part 4 - platonic

talia and bruce having a older son who “went missing ” but actually joined the court of owls . he’s become friends with a bunch of rouges and two face is like a dad to him. he lives with harley and ivy and sometimes selina and they just chaos. but he runs into batfam and damian just wants to kidnap him so he can have his brother back - REQUEST

Batfamily & male!reader, PART 2, - platonic

Hi! Sorry I don’t know if you’re still taking requests but if you are, can I request a male!vigilante!Y/N. he’s likes 13-15 (younger than Tim but a older than Damian). He’s a orphan and been the infamous vigilante who goes by Jinx. He’s like super duper smart and knows martial arts and overall a total badass. The bat family has been trying to catch him for a couple of months now since he’s been like stealing their missions. Y/N just finished stopping a drug dealing near the docks. He’s about to leave when night wing and Robin (Damian) jump in front of him. They fight and robin kicks him in the ocean, knocking him out. When nightwing sees he’s not coming back, he goes and rescues him. So like they take him back to the bat cave and they put him in a cell and interrogate him, they find out he’s just a kid, a orphan and knows their secret identities (cause like I said, he’s super smart) Bruce decides to adopt the kid saying something like that it’s ether being adopted or going to jail. And Y/N and Damian aren’t happy about but have no choice and yeah that’s it. Sorry if it’s complicated or long - REQUEST

Batfamily & gn!reader - platonic

Can I request a gn!reader x batfam? The reader is in the batfamily business and is the 2nd youngest. They’re on a mission with the others, when they get hit by a alien tech which turns the reader into a toddler (2-3 years old?)😱 so the batfamily had to take care of the reader till they find an antidote. You can end it with the reader being turned back to their original age? - REQUEST

Batfamily & male!reader, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4 - platonic

can i request a scenario where the reader, who has been trained as a weapon for most of their life, struggles with expressing their emotions. The reader has been adopted by the Batfamily and is injured during a mission. They try to hide their injuries, but Dick or Jason (or both) find out and scold the reader for keeping it a secret. The reader responds by saying that they didn't think it was a big deal. it was a big deal. So it’s fluff and angst. The scenario can end with the Batfamily having a movie night after patching the reader up to help them feel better. If the scenario crosses any boundaries, please feel free to change anything necessary.

Batfamily & male!reader, GENDER NEUTRAL VERSION - platonic

Hi! If this makes you uncomfortable writing, you can choose to ignore it. I was hoping you could do male!reader, who was on patrol and the reader is kidnapped by a villain, and once the batfamily find them its to late and they were brainwashed and was now under control of a villain. (Bonus points if the villain, is actually their biological father who trained them to be a weapon before the reader got saved by the batfamily) Once they like have a fight and the batfam knock ‘em out they bring him to the cave and try to bring his memories back. It takes a while to get his memory back since the reader is not trusting them and doesn’t talk to them because they were brainwashed to think the batfamily is bad but after a while something happens and their mind snaps and they’re back to normal and they get all emotional because they hurt their true family??

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

May i request a baby bat (preferably male) that's left at home with a babysitter (it was after Alfred's surgery or he could just be sick but he's resting) while everyone is out on missions and the babysitter is completely ignoring the babies cries for food and a diaper change while titus is trying to comfort him (btw i noticed that you write titus as doberman even though he's a great dane? Please don't take offense i didn't know if this was on purpose or not so i just thought I'll point it out!) baby ends up crawling out of his crib, out of the doggy door and into the streets in only a diaper and shorts and of course titus is right behind, every time baby tries to go into traffic titus is gently nudging him away with his snout , every time a random person tries to pick up the baby and take him to the police titus is not having it, until eventually word reaches the batfam about this and they go to investigate and the unbelievable anger they felt after watching the camera footage of inside their house, you can choose what happens to the babysitter but family fluff with the baby please! Sorry if this is long i just heard from other writers that the more details they have the easier it is to write, thank you!

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

I'd like to request batfam x male reader, who crotchets a lot. He has some medical issues, so he doesn't go on patrol, he helps out with information gathering though. When Damian got added to the strays, the reader tried being a good older brother, and he crochets him a little stuffed animal for him as a welcome gift. Everyone in the family has one, even Alfred. Let's say, Damian had a bad day, and coincidentally the reader just finished the crochet animal and goes to his room to give it to Damian. Damian snaps and destroys the stuffed animal in front of the reader, also saying some pretty hurtful stuff. The reader cries because it took a lot of time to male it. You can end it however you want Take your time <3

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Can I pretty please request male!reader x batfam who isn’t like sacred of most things like he’s really calm during watching horror movies or if their on a mission and he sees a dead person, he might feel disgusted but like doesn’t care really. So he acts hes not afraid of anything. Anything but bugs. I mean hes AFRAID, really afraid of BUGS. Not like ants or flys or cockroaches or small spiders. no things like big and creepy looking spiders or centipedes or bugs that just look creepy yoy get what I’m saying? I kinda want this to be with Tim or Jason and the reader is younger than them

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Can I request a batfamily x male reader where reader is the youngest member(just a few months or so younger than Damien) and brings home a tiger he’s somehow managed to tame and is trying to convince his family to let him keep it?

Batfamily & male!reader, PART 2 - platonic

Batfamily x teen!reader who’s like younger than Timmy but older than dami, and he’s also a vigilante and were one before being taken in by the family. Anyways he has been with the family for a little while now and he’s close with every member, heck even he’s even close with the JL. But the batfamily doesn’t really know much about the reader’s past, and it’s a big deal if the world greatest detective doesn’t know ether. So a mission goes wrong and the reader is hurt so they obviously have to remove some of their clothing to treat him and they are shocked when they find many scars on the reader’s body. They decide to ask them about it when he wakes up. Once the reader wakes up and sees his body wrapped in bandages, he panics and has a panic attack because he knows they know about his scars now. One of the family member comes in and calms him down, and once’s he’s calm, they ask about how he got these scars. The reader knows he can’t keep lying anymore so he reluctantly tells them. His backstory is like Damians and cass. His father has a clan of his own and he trained the reader from birth to be the best assassin in the world. His punishments and training were harsher than Damian’s even. But he ran away from all that when he was 10. By the time he finishes the rest of the family is there and heard everything, he just breaks down crying again and the whole family now comforts him, telling him he’s safe now. IM SORRY IF YOUR UNCOMFORTABLE BY THIS :(

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Hey, I'd love a batfam x reader fic, where the reader got mistreated by the family when they were first introduced (not by Alfred tho), they ignored here and just focused on their own shit and when the reader got older and they realized "oh shit I got another sibling" they wanna build a relationship, but the reader hates them and is like "nah, I don't give a shit how bad you feel, kys" and "Do i look like I care? Fuck off and please fall down the stairs and break your neck" or they're really overly nicest most anime girl voice to make them feel extra bad "oh my absolutely dearest brother, I would love to spend time with you, buuuut I just don't want you to waste your time on your little brother, okayyy 😚" I hope you can imagine something with this! Take time and have great day

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Baby bat who gets kidnapped by lex Luthor but has no clue what’s happening like he’s being taken to metropolis and baby bats is like are we thiere yet singing and being a menace Thiere confused on why an ugly bald guy is taking them out but Luthor gets fed up and leaves the kid somewhere and they just vibe

Batfamily & male!reader, part 2 - platonic

I hope it’s not too weird but can I request batfam a batbro!reader, older than Damian but younger then Tim that isn’t very emotional when it comes to death? Like they don’t understand why people are so hysterical over death. Maybe an animal died and they just go “oh they’re dead” like it was nothing. Hope ur doing well, I’m projecting so much with this but I can’t wait to see what you do if you do. I love ur writing, can’t wait to read more 🫶

Batfamily & male!reader, part 2 - platonic

Another request, hope it’s not bad. But batbro!reader who was raised to be perfect. Who’s older than Damian bur younger than Tim. But I was thinking maybe Bruce and readers mum have split custody and his mum is very demanding, the reader doing things like music and ballet (I just love dancing bc I was a dancer) and their mum pushes them to be perfect, in that and schoolwork and belittles then if it’s not perfect. Like they are worse than most of the family, not sleeping and always studying or pushing his body to the limits with practice. The family is going to a dancing competition for Cassandra and the reader is performing but they don’t know, reader not getting first place and they see how his mother reacts badly, maybe belittling the reader, their reaction maybe. Hope it makes sense, if you are uncomfortable with it dw🫶. I’ve seen so many assassin or killer ones.

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Oh god, i don't have any specific scenarios but i would really like to see some more babybat reader? Maybe batfam and a foodie baby? One where he's the happiest when he's eating

Batfam & male!reader - platonic

I'd like to see how batfam deal with babybat (not necessarily baby like 4 or 5) that's obsessed with video games? Like first thing he does in the morning is turn on his playstation before he even has breakfast or anything, maybe Bruce takes him out to get some outside time but instead he's just pointing out how some things look like this certain game he played etc, and basically the only way his brothers can interact with him is if they asked to play with him

Batfam & male!reader - platonic

Hey, I was wondering if you could do the Batfam with a Teen Former black Widow ( sorry English isn't my first language)

Batfam & male!reader - platonic

Can I request a batfamily discovering that Bruce has another biological son(who’s reader and is the second youngest) but also that reader is stuck in a abusive home and they go to save him from it?

Batfam & male!reader - platonic

Im so sorry ,in advance, its okey to ignore the request Batfam x child here this scenario: Batfam where on a mission catching some criminals, like usual but then hearing crying noise on the dark alleyways, when Batman or anyone in the batfamily check to see, When they looked, they saw a crying child with little bit blood on their face , they asked “why are they crying?are you hurt?” or “ are you okey? What happened?” The child pointed at darkest corners of the alley. they looked where the child was pointing at, they saw two of the parents died in the same manner like Batman backstory , when the child look up at them still crying , they lift their arms and said “ c-can I-i *sob*have a-a hug?*sob* p-please” How would the batfamily react? Or what to do to calm the child reader

Batfam & male!reader - platonic

Batfam x little bat bro The batbro is a really quiet kid, not non-verbal, just hardly ever talks. He's just quiet all around, when walking, eating, doing whatever. He also likes to stare a lot. Just imagine the kid suddenly appearing in front of Bruce's desk , you can just see his little grabby hands and the upper part of his face, and he just stares. Definitely is the one to accidentally scare them with suddenly appearing even tho he's been here the whole time. The definition of this --->●_●

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Batkids x male reader, were the reader was Bruce's best friend but due to some bad blood they kinda hate each other, but still look out for each other. Now what about Bruce having to go on a mission with the justice league, and lets just say Alfred is on vacation and Bruce just takes the extra step and let's the kids stay at the reader's place, because he knows they're safe with him. While the reader hates Bruce, he loves his nephews and he takes great care of them. Bruce eventually returns and the kid's are obs with their uncle, so now Bruce has to visit the reader more often and maybe they repair their friendship??

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Hey so I was wondering if you could do a fic/head cannons of the batfamily reacting and bonding over time with Bruce’s biological son he had 20 years ago (one night stand stuff) when he was young. The son who went missing when he was 10. And he came back as a blood witch/vampire due to his mothers heritage around dicks age now and him and dick bond in specific getting together eventually also some Damian being jealous/spiteful but warming up and bonding with him happy ending if you are willing to do this I’d appreciate it and want it so much but thank you anyways If you don’t for even considering it

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

could u maybe make a batfam x male reader and where the reader is like trained to be an spy or something and their mission was to figure out what was going on inside the manor but they figured out to much and got roped into the batfams family

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Could you do one where batfam and batbro!reader are on a mission and reader gets hit with something that temporarily makes him half cat? Like ears, tail, teeth, stuff like that?

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Yk the one where batbro reader meets the justice league and the leave absolutely loves him? Could you do one with the young justice with Tim or teens titans with dick or the outlaws with Jason?

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Hey I was just wondering if you’d possibly do headcannons of A fic of the batfam in specific Damian getting all of readers (Damian’s biological older brother who’s a blood witch/vampire) long decade old friends killed by accident when he slips up and tells the league where they operate from and reader cannot cope with this so he goes into the forest at night to scream and cry in private but Damian follows him one night and sees reader about to end their lives and he stops them admits the truth and expects the reader to kill him with one look but instead reader hugs him and cry’s saying he should have been a better brother and he understands it’s a mistake and Damian gets upset as well and hugs reader back just them both crying saying sorry and Bruce finds them and takes them back to the mansion, the end and if you can’t do it cause of the attempted suicide I understand it’s just a personal thing but thank you for considering my request anyways.

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Okay hear me out, reader x batfamily okay? The reader is 2nd youngest (like 14) and recently during a mission, they got sent to alternate reality where they’re a bad guy, and witnessed themself kill the batfamily? Obviously you don’t have to write out that part if it makes you uncomfortable, but any ways. Once they return they distant themselves from the family beacuse they’re scared they’re going to hurt the family and turn out like the other evil them? The batfamily has enough of this after a while and corners them and kinda pressures them into telling what’s going on with them, and the reader kinda breaks down and says what they saw and that they’re scared they’re going to hurt their family. The batfam comforts them and tells them that, their nothing like their evil self? Somethin like thattt

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Batbro rwader who gets the flu or has bad fever but refuses to rest and still wants to go on patrol? (2nd youngest like 2 years older than dami) PRETTY PLEASEEEEE

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Hey, I wanted to ask if you could do a bat!bro who’s Australian? And very aussie, like they go bogan (look it up if you don’t know) when they are mad and every second word is basically just a swear word of some kind (especially c*nt) Also showing everyone Kath and Kim, it’s a classic and I recommend it to everyone.

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Heyo, can I ask for a bat!bro reader who’s around 16 or 17 and they find out that he smokes and drinks? And sometimes some drugs. And he (tries to) hide it from everyone? If not it’s ok, and I hope ur doing good. Can’t wait to see what you write 🫶

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Hello I was wondering if you could do a Batfam x teen reader, where the reader is like Lara croft from Tom Raider. The reader love going on adventure to ancient ruin and collect artefacts. The story is up to you, of course! Thanks you for your amazing writing! (sorry, English isn't my first language)

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Hi! Could you do a Batfam x teen reader, where the reader does illegal street race, he sneaks out at night to go those race, and the Batfam found out about it ! Thank you ;)

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Can we get fic where male batbro x batfamily, where his school is having a field trip to Wayne enterprises? I’m not sure if you watch marvel or read marvel fics but it’s basically likes the ones where peters has a field trip to go stark industry’s. Anyways, so Bruce and Tim work their right? Tim is the co-ceo and Tom is just teasing him the whole time Tim gives a tour but when they took a break for the the kids to eat and stuff. Tim walks in on someone picking on batbro reader, the batbro reader doesn’t care that much but Tim does. Tim just gets protective of him and kinda threatens the bullies with a smile?

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Can you do a batfam x baby bro reader? Where Bruce puts reader in a Batman onesie and it was cute and when they boys see it they all start fighting, which turns physical quick, over who’s costume reader should wear a onesie of next

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

My latest obsession > motorcycles ,i know so many people call them death machines but i can't help but get heart eyes when i look at them, anyways i wanted to know how would the batfam react to the youngest family member batbro reader being like that? I'm especially curious about Bruce, will he buy a whole garage for his kid? Or try to steer his interest somewhere else? Also i think Jason will try to be reader's riding buddy <3

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

How about a one of the one where the family didn't know about male reader past and found scars. Let's see the justice league/titans/young justice reactions to readers past R.I.P Deathstroke cause the moment anyone sees him there all about to jump on him🤣

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Could you do a batfam x batbro reader? Where reader is the 2nd youngest and they all accidentally forget his birthday, and they see him all teary eyed and they all feel really guilty and go to apologize to him except plot twist, batbro also forgot that it was his birthday and was teary eyed because he saw a really emotional scene in a video game he was playing and it made him tear up

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Can I ask for a follow up on Australian bat!bro reader where he gets annoyed bc they won’t let him drink alcohol or smth? Here in Australia there is alot of underage drinking. (I mean I got high and tipsy at my 17th birthday party with parental permission💀) Just thinking about the culture shock most of them would get 😭

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Hey, I love your fics. I wanted to request a bat!bro reader who’s 16 where Bruce has split custody with his mum (he grew up with his mum and wanted split) but it turns out his mum was just using him to get money from Bruce and is kind of neglectful? And he always gives it to her bc he’s a mamas boy? Stay safe and don’t forget to stay hydrated <33

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Hello, I was wondering if you could do a Batfam x teen reader, who does figure skating?

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Hello, firstly I love your writings ! I was wondering if you could do a Batfam x teen reader, who is like the winter soldier from Marvel? He has a Metal arm and has been trained to be a weapon . Only if you want to, of course. have a good day !

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Hi! So I’ve had this idea for a while and idk why but I thought I would go ahead and request it. Batfam x Batbro reader who’s the 2nd oldest (maybe their ages range from like 25-18) and is really close with all his brothers. One night after some encouraging from Dick he decides to go out with some friends. While he is gone this villain who he’s been fighting for a while breaks into the mansion and uses his powers of mind control on the family. (the boys and Bruce, Alfred has the night off so he isn’t here) He uses them as leverage over batbro when he gets back from his night out. (Could you focus more on the scene where they break in and mind control happens? I’ve been picturing we see that part happen and then batbro gets home. Kinda like you would see on a tv show) The villain tries to bargain with batbro (maybe he has powers that villain wants?) for his family but because batbro is a smart badass he finds a way to project villain’s own powers back onto himself so batbro is able to command him to release him family and then he gets sent to jail. The brothers are very impressed with his quick thinking skills and they end up having a “sleepover” in one of their room (because let’s be honest, those beds could probably hold like 15 people) and they all fight over who gets to lay next to batbro and Dick and Jason end up winning that fight. It ends with the brothers being like “hope you enjoyed your once chance at protecting us because it will never happen again!” To batbro because they (even the once younger than him) and very protective of him. If not it’s totally ok!!! Thank! Love your work!!

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Could you do batman x son reader, where the reader struggles with an eating disorder. Maybe reader faints on a patrol or maybe he just trys to hide his Ed behaviors (like skipping meals, over exercising, purging, ect...) from the family, but one day the family just figures it out.

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Hellooo, I was wondering if you could write a fic on how the bat family would react to the male reader having a mental breakdown. The male reader always acts like he is the best. And all of a sudden he just broke down and started crying and they all feel bad for him. Idk if this makes sense I'm sorry 😭😭

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

been thinking of a batbro bimbo reader who isn't yet fully aware of his family's identitys but is a vigilante too. Thinking of him getting flirted on and the other's getting protective. Especially the younger siblings (Ex: Damian)

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

hi I love your posts and I wanted to ask if you could do batfamily x newest batbro who was created to be a weapon and when bruce saves him and makes him have a childhood he couldn't make choices like the demon slayer kanao please - @elizabeth63646esangrenta

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Can I request a batfamily fic with a reader who loves reading and is rly shy but they’re trying to spend more time with them ♥️

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

I had read a fic of yours where Batson was Australian, I don't know if you have other requests like this but if you accept, make one with Batson being Brazilian and he likes football, carnival and who likes to listen and dance to music by the great diva Anitta

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Could you do batfam x baby bat reader? Where reader is a tiny force of chaos who likes to run around and cause mischief, and the only person he’s perfectly behaved with (aside from Alfred) is Damian, and while the rest of the family is trying to figure out why, Damian is just being smug cause even as an infant his little brother obviously knows who his superior brother is

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Hi, this is my first time asking here I really love your work and also the whole reason me going into the DC fandom really... Anyway, back to my request can you do like a fluffy interaction with the batfamily when child (male or gn) reader told them that they had a "boyfriend" at school. Not entirely sure if this is really you're cup of tea and if not you can ignore it.

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Hello I was wondering if you could write a teen male reader with the Batfam. The reader is super into technology and hacking stuff and kinda helps the fam in the background of mission Thanks you!

Batfamily & male!reader - romantic with Bruce Wayne

Hello, I hope you are doing alright! So I can have a kinda cross over idea for a teen male reader. a mix of Batfam and star wars. The reader is a Jedi padawan that had to flee towards the Earth after the Jedi were forced into hiding and the rest is up to you.

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

Can you do a teen reader (younger than Damian by 1 or 2 years) x batfam, where he is spider man? (I mean kinda like miles morales, he has electricity powers but his webs are organic too and doesn’t need a web shooters.) he is Bruce’s biological child and his mother died, yk his canon event and what not. So he has to move to Gotham and isn’t happy about. Just distant and all. One night He sneaked out and bought a train ticket and went to New York, and was only spider man and just slept in somewhere. So the batfamily tracked him to New York, and while looking for him, they bump into him as spider man. They have to team up to find a villian but reafer gets hurt in the end and his mask fell off and they see it’s reader? They bring him and just have a talk when he wakes up and they come to conclusion for him to join the family in their fighting in Gotham?

Batfamily x male!reader - platonic

Hello author. I hope your having a splendid day May I request a reader x batfamily ( a year younger than Damian) They are a Demi god of lightning and electricity. He has been having a hard time with cases and failing and stuff like that, too much pressure. And he’s kind of hitting his breaking point. So during a fight with a villain, alone. The villain corrupts the reader and makes him evil. For a few months he became a villain and barely anyone could stop him. The batfamily at first didn’t know it was him but during a mission that was orders by the villain that corrupted him, to kill Althea (your oc) but Althea got away with injures but saw his face and told her mom and her mom told bats. So with this new information the batfamily were more devastated . With the help of the justice league the batfamily are in a show down with the reader, somewhere near a cliff and they fight and while also talking about their memories together. Reader was too powerful though and restrains everyone with use his electricity. His eyes are red and with dead eyes he walks towards any batfamily member of your choice and was about to deliver the final blow before the bat member looks at them and says ‘ I love you, my son/little brother’ reader hesitates and his eyes widens and filled with tears, the red disappearing. He’s of course confused and disoriented, he steps back and not notices the cliff. His mind coming back to me as he slowly lets his restaions of the others disappear. He steps back near the cliff and looks back into the abyss and back at his family and friends. With regret and a messed up mind right now thinking he won’t be forgiven, he purposely steps back and fall down the cliff. No one was fast enough to stop his fall and he dies. They retrieve his body and they’re just depressed and stuff for a while hut Damian won’t allow his only little sibling to die and takes his body to talia and he gets revived back. when he brings unconscious reader back, the batfamily are upset at him for doing a dangerous act but happy that it went well. Sorry it’s too long.

Batfamily x male!reader - platonic

HEYYY, firstly how are you! I wanted to ask if you could write about a teen male reader with the Batfam. He is kinda like the winter soldier if you know what I mean ( skilled fighter, metal arm..), since he lived with the Batfam he was doing a good mental recovery, but one day he goes back to winter soldier mode on the fam, and they try to get him back to normal again, idk Thanks you bye !

Batfamily x male!reader - platonic

Ok this one is mainly for Alfred but u could add batbros and batdad if u want, anyways i was wondering what would alfred (or any of the fam) do to stop BatToddler reader tantrum? Like i imagine the setting would be grocery shopping and Alfred's only getting healthy food including boring plain cereal and BatToddler is not having it and only wants sugar loaded cereal and starts whining and tearing up right there in the middle of the store, would alfred give in to those tears or find an alternative? I imagine batdad would give in and the brothers might even encourage it giving that they probably eat the same junk food

Batfamily & male!reader - platonic

(Kind of self projecting sorry lol) SO! BabyBat has an upset stomach but Bruce's too anxious about giving him medicine because can his baby stomach handle those chemicals? Insert Alfred rolling up his sleeves "give him here master Bruce" a tired Bruce just hands him over without question and watches as alfred and baby head to the kitchen and suddenly...baby stopped crying? Bruce walks into the kitchen seeing flower stems on the counter and Alfred standing there with a sleeping baby "...How?" "Rosewater master Bruce, i made and fed him Rosewater" Not sure how to end this but basically BabyBat would only drink Rosewater from now on and Bruce has to upgrade his gardening game ,Alfred always has already-made Rosewater so his Grandson is always hydrated and the rest of batbros are just like "hell yeah my brother's too fancy for regular water" I hope you except my request and thank u! I love u

Batfamily x male!reader - platonic

Remember when u wrote batbro who's Australian? Now u HAVE TO do Italian! This time with Italian toddler batbro, please little Italian people with their small hand gestures are so funny and so fricking adorable to me I'm tearing up just thinking about it

Batfamily x male!reader - platonic

I remember back when i was a few months old and still using a baby walker, I'll wake up early morning but my parents will be too exhausted to get up yet so my older sister will put me in the walker in front of the TV and turn on something like national geographic or anything about animals then I'm entertained for hours(might take a stroll around the livingroom but with my eyes still on the tv) even though i understood nothing lol, can i see something like that with batfam and babybat? I feel like this is something batbros will definitely do if they're too tired to entertain their baby brother but still want to hangout with him(they just end up open mouthed staring at the tv just like the baby < Bruce's favourite site in the morning)

Batfamily x male!reader - platonic

U know those adorable videos where big brothers are the most gentle and just keep picking up and kissing their baby sibling no matter if the baby was sleeping or not? I imagine babybatbro (triple B lol) will be napping next to Bruce in bed and then which ever batbro will come in and steal the baby with no explanation hehe, I'd like to see something like that with all 4 batbros please

Batfamily x male!reader - platonic

Artist toddler batbro! Can't help but draw/ paint at least once a day and at the end of the day batfam is anticipating who will be the lucky family member that'll receive which ever art piece their youngest has created that day (sometimes the art piece is on the walls or floor of the mansion but no one has the heart to be angry when little batbro is just proudly presenting his art) Toddler batbro *leaves a paint covered tiny handprint on the wall* Bruce: alfred, frame that

Batfamily x male!reader - Romantic with Damian

Please write Damian x friend reader who's really shy, and they have to make a school project together, and they do so at the manor, but because the reader is shy he doesn't want to meet the family. The family (to annoy damian) want to meet this friends, but Damian actually likes the reader and tries to protect him from his brother's

Batfamily x male!reader, PART 2- platonic

What about Batfam x male reader where the reader was actually the first child Bruce adopted and he was the practice child. He hated growing io because Bruce had really no idea what to do and then the other kids came along and now Bruce kinda understood what to do. He hates family time because he never felt like family, he was just some doll the others could practice on so later they wouldn't make mistakes. And i imagine at some point they snap. I feel like what if Damian brought over Jon for dinner and Jon was like "oh I thought Dick's the oldest, you never told me about (reader)" and reader just slams down their fist and goes to their room. At this point the rest of the family try to comfort them but the reader only screams about how they never were a son or bother, they were only a practice doll for them to use and then throw away

Batfamily x male reader

Batfam x reader who bites, like affectionately bites them. The bites don't hurt, and it mostly on the arms, like when they are sitting down, the reader just goes now and lightly bites them because they have an oral fixation

Batfamily x male!reader

What about male reader being Alfred's nephew who came to live with him because his parents died or were just unfit parents? Alfred isn't all too happy that he's here, but not because he hates him, no, but because Gotham isn't the safest place and the fact that he's bow living with the vigilante family isn't the greatest fact. I feel like Alfred would be very overprotective of his nephew, and just the family's reaction to Alfred's nephew, i feel like the family didn't really ask Alfred about his family and such .

Batfamily x male!reader

Batfam x M reader hwere the reader is Bruce's older brother, who decided to move away from Gotham after a really big fight between him and Bruce (before Dick was adopted) Bruce wanted to reach out, but never really did because he thought the reader hated him. At some point the reader decided to come back to Gotham and meet with Bruce because he got married and had a kid, but his partner died and he needed support + his kid wanted to know about their uncle. Now total shock on the batfam part because they have an uncle??? And Bruce didn't tell them??? Now they try to build a relationship, but Bruce is still a bit distant because he feels guilty

Batfamily x male!reader

Batfam at a gala with the reader being dubbed the "hearttrob", the reader is really handsome and nearly everybody wants to get into his pants. However, the reader is actually a really innocent and the family is always on a mission to stop anyone from talking to the reader who just wants to get him into their bed. They're like "nuh uh he only deserves the best"

Batfamily x male!reader

What about Bruce"sneaking out" to go on date with the reader. His son's obviously follow him to see what their father is up to. When they realize that he's going on a date, they tease him the next day because 'the playboy is settling down'

#bruce wayne x male reader #jason todd x male reader #tim drake x male reader #dick grayson x male reader #platonic relationships #batfamily #batkids #x male reader #dc x male reader #dc comics

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cloverthebarbearian · 5 months

Text

Do You Think Of Me...?

Rolan x AFAB/OC, NSFW, 6,034 Words

A fic inspired by an incredible piece of fanart by @sammakesart, the full image of which is a patreon exclusive that is well worth the money and has been living in my head rent free for weeks. For WEEKS. (Ref Sheet for OC)

"I mean. We live in the tower now, yeah? And its Big and all, but we still like to have rooms near each other. I don't know, it feels safe… comfortable, after everything. To know we're close by. But it also means, sometimes, things aren't always… private…" Clover slowly took sips from their pint, eyes still locked on Cal's darting gaze. Biting his lip, knuckles white in his lap. Clover's eyebrows raised, "Okay? And?" Cal lowered his head, "Pleeease don't make me say it…" Lia threw her head back and nearly yelled out in exasperation, "GOOOODS Cal you're such a BABY sometimes. Listen, Clover… Clover. We know," she shoots Clover an intense stare, "We knoooow things. About Rolan. Things no siblin's should know," her hand reached out to grab their arm, "An' Rolan? Reeeeeeaaally misses you…" a knowing smile crept up on her face. Clover's cheeks felt warm, but they weren't even sure why. The gears in their head not fully turning as the alcohol worked through their veins. "What… what do you mean?"

It was a lively evening at the Elfsong. Swarms of friends deep in drink and song flooded the tables of the tavern, the Hero of Baldur's Gate among them. Busy catching up with Cal and Lia, Clover took a healthy chug of their pint amidst the laughter around them.

"And THEN he tried to tell us 'an unseen servant would be more useful'," Lia continued her ranting, "Like, sure Rolan. Good luck gettin' an invisible jester ta' help with your customers."

Apparently, Rolan had been particularly difficult to work with this past week. Between drinks, Lia was busy retelling all of his criticisms and complaints over his siblings earnest attempts to help him run Sorcerous Sundries. Now that he was the Master of Ramazith's Tower, he had to learn all of said Tower's secrets - on top of learning to run an already successful business. Admittedly an overwhelming task as is, and likely even more so for a perfectionist like Rolan.

Cal followed Lia's complaints with his own, "I get that it's been a lot as of late. But you'd think the man would be grateful to have the extra hands about! And it's not like the patrons are complaining. Hells, some bloke even tried to ask Lia on a date after shift!"

Clover raised an eyebrow to Lia at that, who simply shrugged and sipped her own drink, "He was like, 60 years old at least. Or maybe 600. I think he was an Elf? Besides, if anything, its Rolan who needs someone to ask 'em out. Hopefully someone to help yank the stick from 'is arse." Clover snorted out a laugh in response.

"You really think that would help?" They pondered aloud, "Gods, I can't even see Rolan out on a date. Let alone finding someone attractive. That man only seems to care for Tomes and the Weave," Clover chuckled to themselves, "I mean hey, Mystra's single now, maybe I could set them up..."

Cal and Lia shot each other knowing glances, poorly hidden smiles curling at the corner of their lips. This was a look that Clover recognized immediately. That token Sibling Telepathy. Clover dropped their pint on the bar with a thud and planted their palms on the counter, shooting them their own knowing glance.

"Okay," they pointed between the two of them, "What's all this?"

The siblings eyes darted at Clover and then each other, trying to hide their bubbling laughter.

"Us?" Lia said sarcastically, hands raising up in feigned innocence, "Nothin'! Nothin', honest."

"Y-yeah," Cal said with a lilt in his voice, "You're totally right that Rolan doesn't even find anyone attractive, even. The mans practically a… a Eunuch!"

Lia groaned, "Cal, ew."

Clover rolled their eyes, "You two clearly know something. Some weird secret that I guess I'm not privy to," They folded their arms across their chest, "Very rude to withhold information from the person who's saved your lives on probably, Seven different occasions at this point?"

"Oh c'mon Clove, you can't hold that against us forever," Cal groaned.

"I actually think I can," Clover retorted, "Until you've saved my life seven times, at least." They picked their drink back up and finished the final gulp, tapping their mug against the counter with a wink in request for the barmaid to top them off once more before turning back to Cal.

"Alright Bud, I know you can't keep a secret. So, what the Hells are you two keeping from me?" Cal suddenly turned a bit pale, eyes wide.

"Clover, y-you know I don't do well under pressure…"

Clover leaned in closer to him, their barbarian eyes narrowing, a bite in their voice, "Exactly."

Lia, now tiptoeing between drunk and utterly sloshed, ran her finger around the rim of her cup, giggling to herself, "Clover… you're gonna make'm piss 'imself."

Cal groaned, "Listen, I'll tell you. But it's just. It's weird! It's weeeeeird, Clove."

The dwarf grinned to themselves in victory, "Alright, then. Spill." Lia stared at Cal with a sly grin.

"Yeah Cal. Tell 'em Rolan's little secret~" Cal groaned once more, shoving his face into his palms.

"Okaaay," Cal relented, "Gods above, I… Auuugh, so. How do I even…" he was struggling to find his words, "I mean. We live in the tower now, yeah? And its Big and all, but we still like to have rooms near each other. I don't know, it feels safe… comfortable, after everything. To know we're close by. But it also means, sometimes, things aren't always… private…"

Clover slowly took sips from their pint, eyes still locked on Cal's darting gaze. Biting his lip, knuckles white in his lap. Clover's eyebrows raised, "Okay? And?"

Cal lowered his head, "Pleeease don't make me say it…"

Lia threw her head back and nearly yelled out in exasperation, "GOOOODS Cal you're such a BABY sometimes. Listen, Clover… Clover. We know," she shoots Clover an intense stare, "We knoooow things. About Rolan. Things no siblin's should know," her hand reached out to grab their arm, "An' Rolan? Reeeeeeaaally misses you…" a knowing smile crept up on her face. Clover's cheeks felt warm, but they weren't even sure why. The gears in their head not fully turning as the alcohol worked through their veins.

"What… what do you mean?"

Lia's smile turned even cheekier as she threw her head back - fake, exaggerated moans falling from her lips, "Ohhh~ Fuuuck, Clover- Yes Clover, please! Take me jus' like that," her speech slurred as she rocked her hips in frantic thrusts. Cal lowered his head onto the bar's tabletop as Clover's eyes went wide and their face went fully flush.

"Oh, my Gods…" they muttered to themselves, lifting their pint back to their lips. Lia's mocking cries turned to raucous laughter.

"I'm jus' saying. If anyone could get that man to relax…" she lifted her cup in Clover's direction before taking another hearty swig.

Suddenly, the gears in Clover's skull decided to start working. Frantically.

"Well, then," they announced, hopping off of their bar stool, "maybe I should go get the job done."

Cal and Lia once again exchanged wide eyed stares with each other, "What, like… like, right now?" Lia asked, as if shocked into a sudden sobriety. Clover chugged their nearly full pint in a handful of large, thirsty gulps. The final drops of liquid courage they needed before slamming the glass back onto the counter.

"Yeah, I guess like, Right Now. Y'all've had a hell of a week, right? If I can help…" Clover smiled to themselves, "It's kind of what I do," they gave Cal a cocky grin, "I will count this as saving your life, again. Mark me up to eight."

"Gods dammit," Cal let his head fall back onto the bar. Lia began laughing, clasping her gut as she bellowed.

"He should still be closing up at the Sundries!" Lia started hollering after Clover as they began to leave the Elfsong, "We'll stay here tonight, so take your time!"

Clover heard Cal stammer out, "Lia, that's disgusting!" Before walking into the cool night air.

Sorcerous Sundries was but a brief walk away. And Clover couldn't help all but skipping towards their unknowing wizard, his dirty secret at the forefront of their mind...

The open doors of Sorcerous Sundries allowed a pleasant breeze to flow through the lobby. Rolan took in a breath of fresh air, busying himself balancing the account records of sales for the evening. A small crew of mage hands floated around him, carrying stacks of sales records, tomes to be organized, sorting through everything from profits to taxes to local investments.

He'd typically give himself the time to pat his own back at his creative means of multitasking. If only his mind weren't so overcome with the newfound pressures being Ramazith's Master have brought him. Yes, the Sundries was a success trade business. Yes, the tower held treasures and secrets and power aplenty. But Gods, had Lorroakan ever opened a checkbook in his life? The debts this man owed, the back taxes and unkept promises Rolan was now forced to follow up on. Though grateful to not have a cane to his jaw, the stress of picking up his former Master's mess was taking its toll.

The faint footsteps of a guest entering the building could be heard across the tiled floors.

"Ah, terribly sorry but we are closed for the evening- Oh," he glanced up from his busy work to see the Hero of Baldur's Gate approaching the Sundries counter, "it's You," he mumbled, the voice of customer hospitality lost in his tone, "What do you want?" He questioned, adjusting the pair of reading glasses sat atop the point of his nose, glancing back down at his records.

Clover hesitated a moment, "Ouch, not the warm welcome I was anticipating. Is this how you treat all your customers?"

"I don't anticipate you're here to purchase something," Rolan remarked, focus fully back on his paperwork. The mage hands organizing the storefront flitted around Clover's head as they continued to approach the counter. Rolan just barely took his eyes from his work to peak up at the dwarf in front of him. He paused, "Did you need something?"

Clover slid their hands across the countertop, "Oh, what? I can't just… happen to be in the neighborhood, dropping by to say hello to an old friend?"

Rolan rolled his eyes back to his work, "We're friends now, is it? And here I thought you were nothing more than my siblings overpaid babysitter," Clover's head cocked to the side.

"You don't pay me."

Rolan flipped to a new page on his countertop.

"I know."

Clover rolled their eyes, strumming their fingers against the polished wood, pondering how to get to occupied wizard's attention. He was dressed so casual - his robes gone, wearing just his loose undershirt and fitted trousers. Emboldened by the alcohol still buzzing through their bloodstream, and their newfound knowledge of Rolan's secret desires, they decided to walk themselves behind the Sundries counter.

"This space is for employees only," Rolan commented, without looking up from his records. Clover paid him no mind, walking up to him and lifting themselves onto the counter directly in front of the Wizard, who responded by sighing. Exhausted and irritated, he hung his head, laying his palms down on the counter before him, "Would you kindly be an utter inconvenience somewhere else? I'm trying to work here," he gestured to his documents, but couldn't seem to look the barbarian in the eyes.

"Oh, Rolan, I'm hurt," Clover responded, "Is that really what you think of me? I'm just an, 'utter inconvenience'?"

"Right now? Yes!" Frustrated, he finally found himself looking at Clover's face. But rather than maintaining his building rage, his breath caught in his throat.

They were much closer to him than he initially realized. He could see their mismatched eyes so clearly. Clear enough to see - no, smell - the magic enchanted in the blue glass eye to his left. He could also smell the heavy alcohol on their breath. Though their dwarven fortitude kept them composed, the sour wheat smell of beer was unmistakable. He found it mixed beautifully with their natural sent of musk, the sugar plum soaps he knew they preferred, and that faintest whiff of copper, from all the blood that often soaks their body after battle. Caught in the sheer aura of them, he nearly didn't register as Clover's hands gently gripped at his forearms resting at their sides.

"I'm sorry," they lied, "I must be a real bother right now. I'm sure you're thinking of a million different ways to get me out of your hair," they made a point of dragging their right hand up his neck and tangling their fingers into the hair on his nape. Without even thinking, Rolan's hands moved from the countertop to hesitantly reach for their thighs. Fingers hovering, as if touching them in earnest would cause them to vanish.

"Don't you just wish there were some way you could… shut me up?" Clover's heavy gaze flitted between his eyes and his lips. Rolan swallowed a lump building in his throat, and (unsuccessfully) tried to will away the growing pressure in his pants.

"C-Clover, what are you-"

"Tell me something Rolan," they interrupted, using their free hand to remove the glasses from his face. Their noses brushed against each other as warm breath mixed in the air between them.

"Do you ever think of me when you cum?"

Rolan's entire body shuddered, from head to toe to the tip of his tail. His fingers clenched around their thighs as he pulled their bodies flush.

"I…" He choked, holding his breath for a second that felt like an eternity, before letting himself go.

"Yes," was all he managed to say in response. Spoken in a heavy breath - a whisper, a moan, a prayer. They were already so close, neither one knew who moved first. But as soon as the word left his throat, their lips crashed together in a frenzy.

There was no patience, it was not gentle. Clover fueled by liquid courage and Rolan fueled by sheer desire. Tongues tangled as shared saliva slowly dripped from the corners of their mouths. They kissed each other as much as they breathed each other in, only pulling apart once Rolan bit Clover's bottom lip. Tugging at it gently, just barely breaking skin with his sharp incisors. Chests heaving as they both took a moment to collect themselves. Rolan lifted a hand in the air, eyes lidded and unfocused. With a flick of his wrist, Clover could hear the doors to the Sundries closing and locking shut, as the lights inside dimmed to the gentle flicker of that magical blue/green glow of enchanted flames.

"Well, someone sure knows how to set the mood," Clover quipped, draping their arms around Rolan's neck and leaning back in for a kiss. Which he returned, deeply, but briefly, before breaking away from them again. Clover whimpered in disappointment, trying to pull him back towards them. But Rolan's hands reached up to their arms around him, stilling their movements for a moment.

"Clover…" he whispered, his voice deep and aching, "Why are you here?"

He looked confused, almost scared, his burning yellow eyes glowing in the dim lighting, unwilling to look at them. It hurt Clover enough to not laugh in response, but they never thought Rolan capable of being so dense.

"Is it… is it not obvious?" Their fingers played with his hair. Rolan scoffed, smiling weakly.

"It just feels, surreal. It feels like I'm dreaming…" Clover lowered their head to catch his gaze.

"Well, you're not," they said softly, "but let's pretend that you are. Let's pretend this is a dream," they nudged against his nose with their own, trying to catch his lips, "You're dreaming. And I'm here," they whispered, "What do you want to do with me?"

Something stirred in Rolan's chest. Without looking at them, he captured their lips again, sliding his fingers beneath the hem of their shirt. He began to lift the cloth upwards, but stilled himself, pulling his lips away just for a moment. Clover smiled, whispering approval to continue before catching his lips again. Rolan pulled their shirt up, the hem resting on his wrists as his thumbs traced the shape of their skin, cupping their breasts as he passed over them.

Clover stilled their kiss briefly to let out a moan, and Rolan took the opportunity to remove their shirt completely before returning his kisses to their lips, down their chin, down their neck. Clover's arms wrapped tightly around him, hands holding the back of his head as his tongue traced a wet line from their neck downwards. He explored their skin, finding the shallow dips between their collar bone, kissing down lower until his tongue and hands met their puckering nipples.

"Fuck, Rolan..." Clover moaned, gripping his head by his hair and pushing his face into their chest. Rolan responded in kind with a deep, purring moan. His lips fully encompassing their nipple while his tongue traced around it. Quick, frantic flicks of his tongue followed by desperate sucking left Clover's chest bruised and swollen. When Rolan lifted his head up for a breath, he kissed Clover once more, then returned his focus to their other breast, making sure he provided both with equal pleasure.

The sounds leaving Clover's mouth were bordering on sinful. They had their legs wrapped around Rolan's body, kicking their shoes off their feet and rocking themselves into him. They could feel their own arousal pooling between their legs. Their hips bucked aggressively as Rolan took the stiff bud on their chest between his teeth, and pulled. Clover threw their head back and whined in pleasure.

Rolan smiled, his hands leaving the curve under their breasts and traveling down the soft skin of their torso. He hooked his fingers under the fold of their waistband, tracing his sharp nails across their skin towards the center of their pants. He began to deftly untie the laces of their trousers. Clover unhooked their legs from behind his back so he could pull the rest of their clothes from their body.

Rolan ran his hands along Clover's thighs as he removed one pant leg after the other. Fully exposed, Rolan took a step back to appreciate the creature in front of him.

Clover's chest was heaving, their pale neck and chest marked red from all the kisses and bites Rolan left on their skin. Their legs were spread wide open for him, the folds of their cunt dripping and twitching in anticipation. They had one hand propping themselves up on the countertop, but the other was dancing across their skin, tracing the ghost of Rolan's own fingers in his absence. They shivered, the chill of their bare skin mixed with anticipation.

"I know you're enjoying yourself," Clover mumbled, breath heavy with lust, "but if you don't come back over here and touch me, I'll-"

Rolan nearly tripped over himself returning to their embrace. He grabbed behind their ear with one hand, pulling their hips into him with the other, kissing them so deeply Clover could feel him shaking against them, before pulling away from them abruptly.

"What are you limits?" He asked in haste. Clover's response was hazy and confused.

"My… what?"

"How far are you willing to go with me? Do we need a… a… a signal? A safeword? To tell me to stop, or…" His hand tightened against their waist.

Clover smiled. Even in a situation like this - sat here completely naked, their body visibly yearning for him - he was so nervous. So mindful. They reached their hands under his chin and kissed him softly.

"We can do whatever you want," they kissed him again, a gentle laugh escaping their lips before saying, "though I wouldn't mind being thoroughly ravaged by you."

Rolan let out a sharp, sudden laugh. Or perhaps a grunt, even. Something almost animal.

"Then I hope you'll allow me to indulge myself," he responded, before quickly dropping to his knees. Hooking his arms behind Clover's thighs, he pulled them to the very edge of the counter, letting their legs drape over his shoulders. A wild look flashed across his eyes before he began planting kisses along Clover's inner thighs. Kisses, and bites, not shying away from biting hard enough to draw blood between their legs. Clover gave a sharp inhale, causing Rolan to glance up at them, an unspoken question.

Clover ran their fingers through his hair, clenching their legs a touch tighter against his back, nodding for him to continue. He purred again, a sound Clover's core was beginning to respond to in kind, before biting their soft inner thigh once more, creeping closer to their center. They smiled and shuddered, letting their head lull back, "Do all tieflings purr like that?"

Rolan licked the blood from their thigh, kissing their skin ever inwards, "Only when we're excited," he responded, before sliding his thumbs up between the folds of their cunt, spreading them open for him. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of their desire, and ran his tongue up their dripping arousal. He sucked their clit into a kiss, rolling the sensitive nub against his tongue.

Clover's hand immediately went from a fistful of Rolan's hair straight to his horn, pulling him in closer, "My Gods, Rolan - Fuck!" They nearly screamed as his mouth explored them. Thighs gripped tightly against his head, their hips rocking with a sudden urgency. Rolan could hardly control himself as he moaned, and gasped, and devoured their cunt. The nectar dripping from their swollen lips worth more to him in this moment than air to breathe.

He slid his tongue inside of them, holding the lips of their pussy open between two fingers with his left hand, and carefully massaging their clit with his thumb. Rolan could feel the inner walls of Clover's sex trying desperately to clench around him as he ate them out, and lulled his eyes up to look into theirs.

Clover was putty under his touch. Their chest was heaving, sweat building on their brow. Their cheeks were flush, their eyes were watering. Seeing the way their body responded to him made Rolan's dick twitch painfully beneath the restraints of his pants.

He slid a hand around Clover's thigh. A feeble attempt to loosen the barbarian's grip, which they thankfully understood. Rolan leaned back a moment for a breath of air before standing tall and crashing their lips together, allowing Clover to taste their own sweet musk of arousal. They had draped their arms around Rolan's neck, while the wizard frantically attempted to remove his own garments. Clover caught on to his movements and began assisting in removing his shirt as he wrestled with his own trousers. Both parties having a difficult time as they refused to let go of each other's lips in the process.

"I hope - it's not - to forward," he said between kisses, "But I - I," he grabbed Clover's face and held them in a deep, steady kiss, before pulling them away, "I think if I - If I don't have sex with you this instant, I may - I may go mad."

He took Clover's hand and brought it down to his throbbing member, though he let them take their own time in touching him.

They looked into him, a coy smile and devilish gaze behind their eyes. They gingerly took the tiefling's erection in their hand, and Rolan's knees all but buckled in response. He had to grip onto the countertop to stop himself from collapsing. Clover laughed quietly under their breath, stroking his cock with increasing fervor.

Rolan kissed them again, quickly tracing his mouth from their lips to the crook of their neck. Clover wrapped their legs around the small of his back, guiding the tip of his dick towards their desperate heat. They rocked themselves against him, sliding the length of his shaft between their slick folds. They could feel his entire body tremble against them, hearing the sweetest whimpers escape him as his face remained buried in their shoulder.

Barely audible, he tilted his head toward their ear and weakly begged them, "Clover… please…"

They traced the end of his cock back to their pulsing entrance and rolled their hips against him, allowing the tip to gain entry. They could feel Rolan's breath catch. His hands found their way to Clover's hips once more, holding them steady at the edge of the counter as he slid his entire length inside them with ease. The complex curves and ridges of his infernal features could be felt within Clover's walls.

"Rolan…" His name fell from their lips in a desperate moan as the tip of his cock reached the deepest parts of them.

Rolan stilled once fully sheathed, Clover's cunt pulsing and throbbing against him in pure anticipation. They rolled their hips ever so slightly. Rolan cursed in response, his voice shaky and low.

He began to drag himself out of their pussy once more, almost reluctant to leave them, until just his tip was teasing the entrance of their hole.

Rolan slammed his cock into them, hands fixed upon their waist so firmly his nails were threatening to break skin. He gave Clover a few long, powerful thrusts like this. Dragging himself out nearly in full before burying himself within them.

Soon enough the long, drawn out strokes were replaced with closer, more frantic thrusts. Rolan's hips barely leaving the embrace of Clover's own as he humped them like an animal in heat.

Rolan lifted himself from the shallow curve where Clover's neck met their shoulder. He pressed his forehead to theirs, grunting hard as he fucked them. Clover's hand gripped the back of his neck as they held his wanton gaze.

"How long have you wanted this?" They asked, panting, their hold on his neck tightening, "How long have you wanted to fuck me like this?"

Rolan's pace picked up, keening under his partner's commanding presence.

"Since - Since Last Light," he stuttered between his heaving breaths and desperate thrusts, "S-Since you saved - saved them. Since you s-saved us. Since you - Ah - since you freed me of - of my tormentor - and made me Master of this Tower," his movements grew sporadic and urgent as he spoke.

Clover laughed as they moaned, "Oh fuck, Rolan, that's right. You're the Master of this Tower now," They gripped him by his hair and gently yanked his head back. The whimper that escaped Rolan's lips at their touch was pitiful. Clover began running kisses up and down his neck, before tracing their tongue below his ear.

"Fuck me, Master Rolan," the lust dripping from their voice was intoxicating. Rolan's hectic and rhythmless thrusting sped up, his moans entirely debauched. Clover could feel their cunt clenching around him as they inched towards their own release.

"Yes, Clover - Fuck!" Rolan moaned and whined as he felt them on the edge, "Take your Master's cock. Take me just - just like that," Clover's grip on his hair tightened as their mouth opened against his neck.

"Rolan!" They nearly wept as they came over his thrusting cock, juices spilling out of them with every shallow plunge.

"Gods, Clover, I'm - I," he could barely finish his attempted warning before Clover caught him completely by surprise, pushing him out of them and dropping onto their knees. They gripped his cock as the shaft pulsed beneath their touch, laying the head of him against their tongue. They stroked him frantically, his member still sticky and wet with their juices.

"Fuuuuck!" Rolan's hands fell to the counter as a powerful orgasm ran through him. His legs shook as thick lengths of cum released into Clover's mouth. Strings of his spend so long they reached across their cheeks and nose. Clover smiled as they rubbed him through his release, sucking on his head to milk every last drop of him.

Once the last of the aftershocks finished running through him, Rolan dropped to the floor to join his equally exhausted partner. Their backs resting against the counter shelves. Slick with sweat, heaving chests, swollen lips, both covered in marks from each others touch.

Clover leaned their head against the wizards shoulder. Rolan placed his head atop theirs, turning and planting a kiss in their hair. Clover ran their fingers on the floor absentmindedly. Rolan took notice, and slid his own hand across the floor a touch, gently nudging his sharp claws against the dwarf's rugged, calloused hands. They responded immediately, interlacing their fingers with his own.

They turned to look up at the man who had just well and truly fucked them near senselessness. They had never seen him so disheveled. His hair was loose and curling with is sweat. He was still panting, this likely being some of the hardest physical work a magic user like him has had to do in quite some time. Still naked, Clover took the time to examine the man's infernal features. The spikes and grooves on his chest and shoulders that so starkly contrasted their own soft and squishy stomach and thighs.

They took their free hand and ran it up his chest, tracing the bumps under his skin. Rolan jumped at the unexpected touch and looked down at his partner, equally debauched. He laughed as he attempted to wipe some of his now drying spend from their face, instead opting for a quick prestidigitation. Clover smiled.

"How are you feeling?" They asked. They weren't really sure what to say, now that the deed had been done. But they were here to help him relax, after all. They should at least find out if it worked.

"How am I feeling?" Rolan responded, almost in disbelief, "That's a rather loaded question, I mean... I still feel like I must be dreaming -"

"But you're not," Clover interrupted, planting a kiss on his shoulder.

"I… yes. Okay, yes, but I'm not," he sighed, resigning to the truth of the situation, "Then I feel like… I feel like I just, um…" He cleared his throat, "I feel as though I just bed the most beautiful creature in all the realms. Gods, in my place of business, no less. I hate to see the mess we've made in proper lighting," He trailed off into his thoughts, almost embarrassed by circumstances.

Clover climbed onto his lap, straddling him in an attempt to get his full focus, "Thank you ever so much for the very literal explanation of our current situation," they expressed with a playful mocking tone, their hands running up and down his arms, "But I do in fact mean how are you feeling, emotionally. Do you feel okay?"

Rolan sat still for a moment. As if he truly needed to consider whether or not he felt okay after all of this. Clover's heart was pounding, suddenly worried if this was a bad idea. That is until Rolan reached up for their face, pulling them in for a tender kiss. When he let them pull away, he held both their hands in his own.

"Clover, I feel incredible. And I feel… confused? But the incredible aspects outweigh the confusion. And perhaps we can discuss the confusion some other time, because right now, I… I'd really like to bask in the incredible."

Clover smiled, and nodded, leaning into Rolan's chest. He wrapped his arms around them, breathing deeply of their scent, committing it to memory. As exhaustion fully took its hold on them, they melted into each other's embrace.

The morning light crept through the stained glass dome of Sorcerous Sundries in a dance of rainbow prisms. The twinkling causing Rolan's dreary eyes to squint tight before slowly opening.

He was sat on the floor behind the Sundries front counter, still undressed, with an equally bare dwarf sleeping soundly against his chest. The memories of the night before washed over him. Clover's body flush against him, calling out his name as they came with him inside them. It all sent a renewed wave of arousal crashing through his body.

That is, until he heard a shout from the busy streets outside, and the reality of his current predicament crashed over him even harder.

"Oh Gods," he glanced around himself. Papers strewn across the floor. Various bobbles lay in disarray, likely dropped by the mage hand assistants last night once he lost concentration on the spell. Drops of his own errant spend now dry on the shelves. Stains of sweat and what other fluids he could only guess marking the floor beneath them. He palmed his face, rubbing his temple between his fingers before rousing his partner from his arms.

"Clover, get up," he started to lift himself from the floor as his companion groaned, "Get up, damn you! We fell asleep," he was whispering, as if someone outside might overhear them. Clover sat themselves upright, eyes still closed.

"Yeah… We fell asleep. People tend to do that when they're tired…" Clover mumbled.

"We fell asleep in the Sundries you idiot!" Rolan was trying to dress himself while cleaning up after last night's… experience, "We have to leave - No, you have to leave. I have to finish cleaning up before I open," his movements were frantic. Clover watched him dart around, still sat on the floor. He conjured a quick bust of himself - a modified version of mirror image, perhaps? - swearing as he attempted to fix his hair. Clover yawned, lazily picking up their own clothes and dressing themselves at a snails pace.

Still sat on the floor, Rolan found himself tripping over them as he aimlessly paced around the counters. Stacks of paperwork flew from his arms as he fell. Clover tried to reach out and break his fall, though it did little help.

"Bugger it all!" Rolan slammed a fist against the tiled floor, propping himself to his knees, "Could you PLEASE get up and either help me, or leave!" He shouted in Clover's direction.

They both froze, Rolan held his breath.

"Y'know…" Clover slowly stood up and walked over to the wizard kneeling on the floor. At this height, they were at eye level with each other, "Calling someone an idiot and demanding they leave the morning after you've fucked them silly? Not exactly the best impression one wants to make," they tried to joke, lifting a hand to his cheek. Rolan didn't comment, his gaze locked onto the floor.

Clover sighed, pulling his head to their chest as they held him. Their strong arms felt both soft and secure, the rhythm of their heartbeat providing a sense of grounding Rolan didn't even realize he so desperately needed. As Clover spoke, their voice reverberated against his cheek.

"I'm no mage, Rolan," they started, one hand gently stroking his head as they spoke, "I can't detect your thoughts, or calm your emotions with a spell. I can't compel you into a zone of truth and force you to be honest with me. But I can tell when someone is overworked, and overwhelmed," they squeezed his head tighter for a moment before releasing him and holding his face in their hands. He looked up at them, his eyes glossy with tears he refused to shed.

"You need a break, you stubborn jackass," Clover said with a smile, "There's nothing wrong with that. I think the city will survive if the Sundries is closed for a day or two. And if you're truly that worried I'm sure I could convince Gale to come visit and-"

"Absolutely not," Rolan interjected sternly, clearing his throat, "Forgive me, but that man has no idea how to speak to patrons without coming across as a pretentious, pompous, know-it-all."

"Oh, but you do?" Clover retorted with a grin. Rolan seemed shocked at first, then smiled back. Chuckling to himself, he reached up to hold Clover's hand, pulling it from his cheek and planting a deep kiss against their palm. Taking a deep breath, he stood up, still holding Clover's hand.

"I'll set up the portal upstairs to take you to the washroom of the tower. Let me finish with what I had started last night, then I'll come join you," Clover cocked an eyebrow.

"You'll come join me, eh? In the glorious, magical washroom of Ramazith's Tower?" They tried to tease him, but he simply turned to them with devious look in his eyes.

"Yes, I'll be joining you. After I finish cleaning up the mess you made," he leaned down to their ear, "Be grateful I'm not forcing you to help," he said sweetly, kissing their cheek. He raised his hand and flicked his wrist, the familiar sounds of a transportation portal wooshing to life on the floor above them, "Now, off with you. I don't need any more distractions, especially if you'd like me to get this finished quickly."

Clover smirked as they began to walk off, "Whatever you say, oh great Master Rolan," a shiver shot up his spine as they dragged out his title across their tongue. He tried to compose himself, but his tail flicked with excitement as the dwarf ascended the staircase.

"I'll be waiting."

#rolan #bg3 rolan #rolan bg3 #rolan x tav #tav x rolan #I am holding a delicious beautifully frosted cake with 12 bags under my eyes bloodshot & weary please accept this humble gift I made

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