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#If I end up taking too long because I spent that much time detailing everything y'all can bonk me
ashuribbon · 1 month
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-Spy TF2 voice- There's more
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papiliotao · 9 months
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꒰ 𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒊𝒕 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 !! ✩࿐
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pairings: albedo, alhaitham, childe, cyno, heizou, kazuha, scaramouche, and xiao x gn!reader (separate)
content: fluff, very light angst in xiao’s and childe’s (they still ends with fluff though), kissing, established relationship
summary: in which your boyfriend tells you that he loves you, but instead of returning his sentiments, you decide to mess with him by not saying it back.
a/n: i said that i’d post soon like two weeks ago... oops. nonetheless, i hope you have fun reading this!
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₊˚ପ ALBEDO
“What’s the matter?” Albedo asks, tilting his head slightly as the words fall from the tip of his tongue. Vivid teal eyes fill with hints of concern that dance through his irises loftily in a flurry of iridescent petals.
Albedo is worried, but he doesn’t want to make a big deal out of nothing. For now, he’ll test the waters of an unexplored ocean and scope out the situation, hoping that he’s just reading too much into things.
“Nothing,” you answer, tilting your head innocently as if you don’t have a clue what Albedo’s talking about.
Your boyfriend is perplexed, but he’s not an idiot. He’s often been regarded as a genius, and he’s spent almost as much time reading the sentimental words engraved into your heart as he has conducting his experiments. Albedo is absolutely captivated by you because you never fail to leave him fascinated and awe-struck. So naturally, he’s managed to pick up on all your subtle habits and all your strange quirks.
And right now, the expression on your face tells him that something is off. A missing brushstroke on a panoramic painting. A sour note in an otherwise enchanting composition. A sparkling daydream where you feel just a little too lucid.
You know exactly what he’s talking about. You’re just feigning ignorance.
Now all Albedo has to do is figure out why.
“I see,” he whispers under his breath in a tone so soft that even a light breeze would whisk his words off to neverland.
Albedo’s gaze remains fixated on you, his eyebrows scrunched and eyes narrowed.
Then a barely-audible chuckle leaves your lips. You stifle it in an instant, but Albedo has committed the melodic sound of your laugh to memory.
And suddenly everything makes sense.
You’re trying to get a reaction out of him, but sadly for you, you seem to have forgotten one key detail. Albedo is used to solving issues in a calm manner, his temperament akin to aquatic drafts that gently caress the surface of a crystal ocean. Cool and controlled.
“Ah, I understand now,” he says, and your eyes widen. The expression on your face rivals the beauty of a night sky dotted with various asterisms. You’re utterly ethereal. The corners of Albedo’s lips turn up, graced with a smile that shines with the light of a million stars. “You thought you could fool me, but unfortunately, you just gave yourself away.”
A pause. The tension within the air thaws, and the atmosphere becomes light-hearted once more.
“I’m not mad,” he clarifies, staring you dead in the eye, “but I would, however, appreciate it if you could make it up to me.”
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₊˚ପ ALHAITHAM
Alhaitham is unfazed.
He sees right through you. You didn’t seriously think this was going to work on him, right? It didn’t take him long to get used to your antics when you first got together, and although you haven’t tried to play as many pranks on him as of late, it’s difficult to erase the devious grin you don whenever you’re up to something from his mind. Nor has the sly look in your eyes slipped from his memory.
Your boyfriend’s ability to read you is almost prophetic — a prediction of the future, yet no stars are read and no omens are required. He makes his predictions based on logic and logic alone.
And unfortunately for you, you don’t possess the same capabilities.
When you ignore Alhaitham’s honeyed words, turning your back to walk away with a coldness reminiscent of the farthest outreaches of the galaxy, he simply shrugs it off and heads to your living room to read a book. He sinks comfortably into a plush armchair, knowing full well that you’ll be back in no time.
Just four pages in, and Alhaitham hears the sound of footsteps echoing down the hallways, filling your shared home with a familiar sort of music. It’s only a few more seconds before he feels a tap on his shoulder — a touch that brings him back to reality entirely, away from the realm of scholarly pursuits.
“Is there anything you need?” Alhaitham asks, meeting your gaze with eyes tinted a turquoise found only in the most pristine of diamond waters. He remains as stoic as ever, not allowing so much as a single hint of emotion to show through his front.
You stare at him, dumbfound, for a few moments. Alhaitham knows what you’re thinking. He’s normally so observant — nothing ever slips past him, and yet this time, he failed to acknowledge the fact that you didn’t respond to his ‘I love you’. Besides that, it’s rather rare for Alhaitham to allow those words to leave his lips in the first place. He prefers to reserve them for tender moments, times where it feels like the only beings present in the vast universe are the two of you. You expected him to be more alert, and yet, Alhaitham has subverted all your expectations.
And it’s all part of his plan.
But then your eyes widen, filling with a light signaling that you’ve just experienced an epiphany. Alhaitham can tell that you’ve realized what he’s up to, and that your little scheme has backfired entirely.
“About earlier,” you start, assuming that Alhaitham already knows what you’re referring to.
Alhaitham smiles.
“What about it?” he questions you, acting oblivious even though both of you know Alhaitham would never be that clueless.
“You acted like you didn’t notice on purpose, didn’t you?” You’re pouting, but your irritation is clearly feigned. Alhaitham knows you like the back of his hand, and although messing with you produces some entertaining results, he would never go so far as to hurt you.
A rare smile graces Alhaitham’s face, as stunning as vivid ribbons of celestial light that compose an illustrious aurora. He’s not typically one to express emotion, but he can’t help himself. You’re just far too irresistible, and if there’s one thing he has a soft spot for, it’s you.
“My apologies,” he speaks in his usual calm tone. “I just couldn’t help myself — not when I knew I’d be able to bear witness to such an adorable display of anger.”
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₊˚ପ CHILDE
The silence that hangs in the air is tangible — a thick veil of unspoken words, all consolidated into glacial fractals that cause the atmosphere to glaze over. An icy sort of tension permeates the moment, crystallizing the ambience and morphing it into something fragile.
And everything shatters when your boyfriend speaks.
“[Name],” he frowns, gazing at you with periwinkle hues devoid of illumination. He sighs, swallowing his pride. “Say it back. Please.”
A blank look fills your eyes, morphing once-lively galaxies into monochromatic jumbles of nonsense. For once, Childe can’t tell what you’re thinking, and that scares him. Either you’re messing with him, and you’re an exceptionally good actor, or you’re being serious.
“Say what back?” you say, cluelessness filling your tone filling your tone.
Childe is dumbfounded. It’s true that he tells you he loves you quite often, but he didn’t think that you’d become so accustomed to it that his words would no longer hold any weight. Although he finds it slightly odd, he supposes that even the most precious of glittering gemstones becomes mundane when fortune is the norm. But that doesn’t mean he’s any less disappointed.
“You really can’t tell?” he sighs yet again. He averts his gaze, looking anywhere but at you.
You shake your heart, and yet as you do, he catches a subtle flash of gilded lightning flash through your irises, setting your expression ablaze with hints of mischief. It vanishes as quickly as it appeared, but Childe knows what he saw. The initial melancholy that gripped his heart with cold fingers borne of frost dissipates, and in its place, amusement arises.
Silence. Shock. Disbelief.
And then he bursts out in a fit of sonorous laughter, the sheer volume of each chuckle rivalling that of an intense tempest.
Your eyes widen. It seems that you didn’t expect to be found out, but Childe has known you for long enough to be able to read your emotions. He’s spent an eternity exploring every nuance of your personality — every subtlety and every quirk, the good, the bad, and the ugly. And he loves every part of you.
That’s why he never fails to express his adoration whenever the opportunity is presented in evanescent moments like these. Although times like these sound like they’d be rare, they’re not when he’s by your side. Every second is filled with bliss, and despite the instances where azure skies are painted a dull grey and sapphire oceans turn tumultuous, he always knows that everything will be alright.
“I should have known,” he says. “You were just teasing me.”
Busted.
In less than a minute, your boyfriend has exposed all your plans, and you have no choice but to admit defeat.
“I was,” you admit, hanging your head.
Childe laughs, but once he settles down, he cups your chin in one hand and lifts your head to meet his gaze. With a surprising amount of tenderness, he closes the distance between your lips. Inch by inch.
You lean in as well. Time slows, and he forgets how to breathe. Even though he was the one who initiated the kiss, he finds you utterly enchanting. The beating of his heart speeds up, becoming erratic, desperate for the sensation of your soft lips pressed against his.
And then it happens. Although Childe had been looking for a verbal affirmation of love, this is even better. Fireworks seem to burst in the edges of his vision, painting the world in vivid shades of phosphorescent crimson and rose.
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₊˚ପ CYNO
“Say it back. There’s no need to continue on with this prank of yours because cy-no you’re only joking,” he says. His voice is as monotone as ever, as tranquil as cerulean seas beneath a sky dotted with snowy white clouds.
His words provoke no response from you. You simply stare at him, too shocked to speak.
“Do you get it? Because Cyno is my name, and ‘cy’ sounds a little bit like ‘I’ while ‘no’ sounds like ‘know’.”
Cyno watches as your features scrunch in a twist of disbelief, embarrassment, and fear. He internally chuckles, secretly delighting in the adorable expression adorning your face.
Your reactions are always priceless, worth more than the most precious of gold and the most luxurious of diamonds. Because basking in the splendor of your smile is true opulence.
“Okay, okay,” you giggle, the embers of mischief within your eyes flickering, “you win. Please stop with the puns. I can’t take it anymore.” Your tone is playful, light.
The corners of Cyno’s lips turn up slightly as a smile graces his features. He’s well aware that your exasperation is feigned — nothing more than an exaggeration fabricated in order to tease him a little. Besides, if you didn’t like his sense of humour, you wouldn’t even be dating him right now.
“Victory is mine,” Cyno speaks triumphantly in a tone full of a hyperbolic sort of grandeur.
He feels light-hearted for the first time in a while, and it’s in that moment, that fraction of a second, that Cyno realizes something.
Your presence is liberating.
When he’s with you, he’s free from the troubles of daily life. With you, the responsibilities that go hand-in-hand with his status are put on hold, allowing him some time to truly experience what it’s like to be unburdened. With you, he’s not the General Mahamatra, one of the most renowned figures within Sumeru. 
He’s just Cyno.
He feels his grin widen as he opens his mouth to speak once more.
“I love you,” he repeats his words from earlier, his tone one of pure adoration and bliss. The beating of his heart picks up, setting a new tempo that seems just right for the moment, a perfect backing for a myriad of silent declarations.
That seems to do the trick because you admit defeat without hesitation and utter the same words back with an extra one following in tandem.
“I love you too.”
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₊˚ପ HEIZOU
“Oh? Do you not love me anymore?” Heizou confronts the problem head-on, feigning sadness. A smirk spreads across his face when he sees your confused expression, but he manages to erase it in an instant, deceiving even the eyes of his partner.
You should have known better than to play a prank of this sort on him. After all, Heizou’s always been one to turn your tricks against you.
As soon as your eyes widen and your jaw drops, Heizou knows that he’s won. To his relief, you don’t notice the way his verdant pools of peridot sparkle with mischief. You’re too absorbed in your panic to sense that anything is off.
He has to continuously stifle bouts of laughter. Heizou finds your reactions slightly too cute.
“N-No! I didn’t mean it like that!” you blurt out in a tone laced with desperation. “I’m sorry. I should have known that you would have noticed something was off. You’re always so perceptive,” you speak sheepishly, averting your gaze. “I just wanted to see how you’d react if I didn’t say it back…”
Heizou chuckles.
“You’re too cute, darling,” he muses, staring you straight in the eyes. “Fortunately for you, my intuition told me that you were just messing with me.”
You groan.
“Of course you figured it out,” you sigh.
Heizou can’t help but mentally agree. He’s already used to solving mysteries, and the fact that the two of you are so close doesn’t quite work to your advantage. Your boyfriend knows you like the back of his hand, and unfortunately for you, he enjoys the thrill of piecing together the puzzles you craft in an attempt to elicit reactions from him.
“I think I deserve a reward for cracking this case,” he says, pointing a finger at his lips.
When Heizou sees your eyes light up, glowing with the opalescent radiance of a nebula, he knows he’s about to get what he wants.
With one quick movement, you lean in nervously to place a shy kiss on Heizou’s lips, clearly still embarrassed by your failure. When you pull away, you take a few steps backwards before gazing deep into your boyfriend’s eyes. In that moment, Heizou realizes that the sentiments swirling through your irises — feelings embodied by the warm hues of a dying sunset — are nothing but sincere.
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₊˚ପ KAZUHA
Kazuha knows you’re teasing him. From the subtle grin you’re trying to hide to the mischievous light dancing within your star-flecked irises, it’s not difficult to discern that you’re teasing him.
But despite everything, he decides to play along.
“I love you,” he repeats, gently taking your hand in his. He plants a gentle kiss on the back of your hand, a charming habit more than a calculated measure.
Kazuha glances up at you and smiles — a gentle expression that lights up your day with rays of golden sunshine. In a single flash, your cheekiness vanishes, and instead, an awestruck gaze paints itself across your face.
Kazuha suppresses a giggle. Far too often, he finds himself enamoured with you, especially when you’re flustered. He attempts to memorize the sight before him, engraving every dip and curve of your facial features into his memories.
You’re just far too endearing for him to resist, and besides, you’re his muse. Kazuha isn’t exactly sure how he knows it, but somehow, he’s certain that someday this moment will undergo a metamorphosis within a hall of crystallized memories, transforming from a fond recollection of the past to strings of eloquently phrased words — a haiku.
You look absolutely captivated by him, and although he didn’t intentionally try to send your heart into a frenzy of vivid daydreams and rose-tinted adoration, he’s glad you find him so attractive. A few seconds pass before you give in.
“I love you too,” you whisper breathlessly, grinning at Kazuha before leaving for the day. As soon as you’re out the door, Kazuha chuckles, eyes containing the essence of autumn mingling with a bright moonglow, swirling with amusement.
“I love you more.”
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₊˚ପ SCARAMOUCHE
Scaramouche is confused, but he tries his best not to show it. He’s fairly certain that the two of you haven’t argued recently, so why is it that you’re not reciprocating his affections?
Although Scaramouche acts like he doesn’t care sometimes, he knows all your small habits. And as your lover, he finds it odd that you aren’t uttering those three powerful words back. That coupled with the fact that it’s rather difficult for him to express his feelings makes him desperate for a response.
“Are you forgetting something?” he grumbles, not wanting to seem too desperate. Deep down, his emotions cause whirlwinds of conflicting thoughts to swirl in his mind.
He watches as you blink — slowly, gradually as if you want to stretch seconds into eons. A frown etches itself into his forehead, and he feels irritation begin to overtake his heart. Storm clouds, tinted an ominous grey, overwhelm the ambience.
Finally, after what feels like forever, you shake your head.
“I don’t think so,” you tell him.
Scaramouche’s features twist into a pout, and he crosses his arms in front of his chest. Yet at the same time, your boyfriend is embarrassed beyond measure. He feels his cheeks heating up, and he’s absolutely sure that shades of pink reminiscent of a sunrise have begun to dust his pale cheeks.
“Fine,” he breathes out, rolling his eyes and turning away. “Forget it. I’ll see you tonight.” Scaramouche tries to brush it off casually, attempting to erase the odd experience from memory.
He want nothing more than to hear you say those three words back, but he’s far too proud to admit it.
He nearly walks away before he feels a firm grip on his shoulder.
“Wait,” you say. “I was just kidding.”
Scaramouche groans. He turns around in order to face you.
“How irritating,” he sighs. He brushes his hair, silken strands spun of midnight, away from in front of his eyes. Scaramouche can’t believe you were able to sense his vulnerability.
You giggle upon seeing Scaramouche’s grumpy face.
“You owe me for this,” he states.
“I know,” you whisper, stepping closer to him and leaning in.
Scaramouche feels his breath hitch, and before he knows what’s happening, the sensation of your warm lips against his overwhelms his senses. Sparks fly in the edges of his vision, and soon enough, a passionate fire is set ablaze in a grand display of crimson elation.
Although you didn’t say anything in response when he told you he loved you, your wordless exchange of adoration speaks volumes.
I love you.
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₊˚ପ XIAO
Xiao sucks in a quiet breath as you turn away from him. It’s not often that he expresses his affection verbally, and the fact that you’re barely responding to his declaration of love is unnerving.
He looks down, strands of seafoam obscuring his gaze, blocking eyes of honeyed amber from your line of sight. However, he raises his head after only a few seconds, attempting to ignore the feeling of unease creeping up on him, freezing his very being with a subtle chill. It’s barely there — a pain nowhere near the sting of a frostbite — yet it still eats away at him, reminding him again and again that something is wrong.
But although Xiao wants to ask you if anything’s bothering you or if he did something to upset you, he can’t. Translating his emotions into words feels far too difficult, especially because in all honestly, this situation is probably no big deal — or so he tells himself. Your nonchalance contrasts with his overthinking, causing doubt to well up within his mind.
In the end, he allows you to leave, wallowing within an aquamarine sea of thoughts. The world has been painted a watercolour blue. Although he refuses to admit it, melancholy overtakes Xiao’s heart, as he’s now both confused and lost.
Did he upset you?
The idea doesn’t seem too outlandish. Xiao’s never been good at interpreting emotions or expressing them, and it’s one of his greatest insecurities as your boyfriend. He’s gotten better over time, but there are times where he still worries about being too oblivious to your feelings.
Unfortunately for Xiao, you’re out for the day, so there’s plenty of time for negative thoughts to ruminate in his mind, festering until they reach the point of becoming a soulless black hole, draining every bit of confidence from him.
As the skies outside the glass windows of your shared home begin to tint with a rosy blush, and a golden light paints the world in shades of ephemeral warmth, Xiao becomes restless. You’ll be back any moment, and then, he’ll have to face you. Anticipation causes his heart to beat in a frenzy as the minute of your arrival approaches.
And sure enough, you return at the exact time you always do.
As soon as you walk through the door, Xiao walks over to greet you, gauging your reactions. When you see him, the corners of your lips turn up in an ethereal smile, and the rest of your face lights up.
Your delighted expression takes Xiao aback. He didn’t expect such a pleasant greeting after the events of this morning, but he brushes it off, allowing a grin to dance across his features in tandem, reciprocating your look of absolute adoration.
“I missed you,” he whispers, stepping closer to you in order to gently take your hand in his.
To assure himself that you’re here in the moment. That nothing’s wrong.
He sighs contently when you don’t pull away. The solace of your intertwined fingers is akin to the tidings of a viridescent spring after countless days of pure white dusting a panoramic landscape. It’s a breath of fresh air after eons spent hyperventilating in the frigidness of a crystallized wasteland, silently fading away amongst seas of sparkling snow.
Xiao can finally breathe again.
And when he laters asks why you didn’t return the three precious words he uttered under his breath earlier that day, as the sun had just begun bathing the world in aureate light, your answer causes his face to heat up.
It was nothing more than a prank.
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disappearing back into my gremlin cave for another fifty years now!! thank you so much for reading!
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ineffable-suffering · 6 months
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The Jane Austen Ball and why it was never about Nina and Maggie
Otherwise known as (*takes a deep breath*): A completely inflated close-up look at various dialogues and events of Season 2 that prove that the Whickber Street Traders and Shopkeeper's Association Meeting Cotillion Ball was supposed to be Aziraphale's confession to Crowley
Look, the point's been made before but that's never kept me from making it myself again, still. In fact, even I made it before, at the end of one of my other metas. But I feel like it's absolutely worthy enough to get its own soppy, way-too-long post. And I do love it so very much to write ridiculously long essays on something that could easily be condensed into a short paragraph.
So, here we go! Snuggle up, get cozy, settle in and, most importantly:
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(Word count: 3.177 | Reading time: ~13 minutes)
As I already said above, I laid out a similar case in my meta about why Aziraphale is somewhat of an unreliable narrator. I'll try and recycle it here briefly, so I can further make my point.
When Aziraphale arrives back in London from his Edinburgh journey, he seems oddly happy and giddy for the fact that he just had a rather odd and threatening encounter with Shax. I explain in my other meta that this is because he just spent the last hours of his drive reminiscing on the thrilling and romantic magic show adventure of 1941 and also the fact that he just found out that Crowley has been replaced by Shax and no longer works for Hell.
Ergo: We have a hopelessly lovesick Principality at our hands, who's practically swooning over his serpent who saved him, his books and his magic show all those years ago.
Ergo:
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✨This✨
Realistically, Aziraphale should probably be a tad worried about the eery encounter with Shax, in which she definitely had the upper hand on him. But well, if you spend many-a hours driving across the serene countryside (Edinburgh is about an 8-hour drive from London), pondering on one of the craziest, sticky-sweet romantic adventures of your not-life life, well ... things tend to turn a little rosy around the edges. Head in the clouds and all that. Light shades of grey!
Alright, onwards: Once the angel, filled to the very brim with fond memories and butterflies, gets out of the Bentley, he's kindly met with a face full of verdant plants and a very in-character-grumpy Crowley.
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Fhwack! Way to burst the rosy bubble.
Seriously, the absolute lightning speed with which Crowley storms out to vacate the bookshop the very second Aziraphale arrives makes me giggle every time.
Let's make a first small (who am I kidding) diversion into analysing the following conversation in unnecessary detail ...
... simply because I enjoy quoting dialogue as an accurate reference in my metas. I'll also highlight certain passages I want to comment on in individual colours so I can back up my thoughts with them below. Alright, their little chinwag goes as follows:
Crowley: "They you are! I was worried something might have happened to you." Aziraphale: "No, nothing happened to me. Very uneventful journey indeed. No strange things at all." Crowley: "Good. That's what we wanna hear." Aziraphale: "Um .. everything okay with- ah.." *nods to the bookshop* Crowley: "Oh, yeah, fine. He's singing to himself. I think he must have been asleep. I heard snoring coming from his bedroom–" Crowley, to the Bentley: "Did you miss me? I bet you did." Aziraphale: "... I'm sure it did." Crowley: "So, any more clues from the mystery of the missing archangel?" Aziraphale: "Not exactly. Or, if there are, I haven't yet cracked the case. But I'm certainly hot on the trail of something." Crowley: "I'm sure you are. Oh, by the way, the whole sudden rain and awning thing was a complete washout." Aziraphale: "Sorry?" Crowley: "You know, project making Nina fall in love with Maggie. I failed, it's your go." Aziraphale: "I see. Well then, Whickber Street Traders and Shopkeeper's Association Monthly Meeting, here we come!" Crowley: "You're really hosting the meeting?" Aziraphale: "Absolutely! And I can guarantee you, it will be a night to remember."
At first glance, this has little to do with the plot of this meta but actually, it folds into my point very nicely! However, it's not time for that yet, so we'll just state the facts as they are for now and then bring them back 'round later when we need them. That being said: For the love of Someone, will these two ever manage to simply tell each other the truth of what happened instead of thinking they can protect each other by lying about it all the time? Hrmpf. As a big fan of open communication myself, I'm close to developing a stomach ulcer with the amount of false truths being spewed here. (Then again – and yes, that is another, way larger meta I'm currently cooking up – it plays so very perfectly into the whole Jane-Austen-Pride-and-Prejudice tragic miscommunication theme that this entire Season has, so I understand the point of it.)
Very uneventful journey indeed, Aziraphale, except for the fact that you were ambushed by a demon who told you she was Crowley's successor, knows about the rumors of the two of you being an item as well as what went down in 1941 (that almost had both of you exposed) and also seems to have figured out where you and your demon boyfriend are hiding Gabriel, all in the span of about a minute. No strange things at all, nooo!
And Crowley's "Oh yeah, fine" is a total lie too. Again, we see him make an absolute run for it before Aziraphale can even enter the bookshop. After all, he just once again witnessed Jim have a Gabriel-flashback, speaking of the Second Coming, while Crowley was alone with him. As fumingly angry he is with the amnesiac archangel – he's also absolutely terrified of what might happen (to him and Aziraphale) should Jim regain his memories. So, no wonder he's quick to vacate the premises after witnessing Jim's rather eery memory flashback (and was, just like Aziraphale, threatened by Shax mere moments later, lol).
But no, nothing out of the ordinary happened to either of them. Tip-top. Absolutely tickety-fucking-boo.
Alright, let's get back on track with the actual topic of this meta. Certainly hot on the trail of something, hm? At first glance, it might seem like Aziraphale is talking about the fact that Gabriel was in company of someone whenever he went to the Resurrectionist Pub. (The clue!) However, I don't actually think he is talking about that. Why? Because, and this slipped my mind too at first, he never actually follows any of this information up, does he? Yes, sure, he went to Edinburgh, found the capital-c Clue and then returned to London. But what does he do with it? Nothing. He doesn't keep investigating this hot trail because that's not the important thing he realized during his journey. No, the more important clue Aziraphale found during his trip, is that Crowley no longer works for Hell and that he is also very much irrevocably in love with him and must confess this at the earliest given chance. (The latter part isn't necessarily a new discovery for Aziraphale, but it surely is fuelled by the fact that he just realized Crowley's out of a Hellish job and simply hasn't told him yet.)
This exchange just the perfect indicator for the fact that Aziraphale, at no point during his drive back, was thinking about the Maggie and Nina mission. He has no idea what Crowley is talking about once he mentions it and seems surprised, even, that he would. Even though they just talked about it on the phone when Aziraphale was still at the graveyard. Which is another important piece of evidence because it means that the last status update Aziraphale got of Mission Lovebirds, was that Crowley had sensed an opportunity to make them fall in love – and had then hung up on him. Why is this important? Because it means that until that very point of their conversation, Aziraphale did not know that Crowley's attempt had failed! There would have been just as much of a chance of Crowley's weather miracle actually working out and Maggie and Nina already having skipped into the sunset happily ever after.
So, riddle me this:
Why would Aziraphale spend the entire ride back from Edinburgh plotting "a night to remember" (because clearly, he already had the entire Ball planned out down to a T in his head since he goes into action right away after arriving) if he didn't even know yet that Crowley's attempt had failed?
To be very clear here: We're not talking about Aziraphale driving on the M1 to London, having a silly little idea for putting on some good music, miracle-ing Nina and Maggie to dance to it and watch them confess their love–
No.
He planned an entire actual Cotillion Ball with very particular location design that involves re-arranging the entire bookshop, specifically designed individual outfits for (almost) every single attendee, topped off with a live band, hors-d'œuvre, drinks and an actual choreographed group dance.
During one car ride.
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Where's the party planner Aziraphale AU? I'm waiting!
Now, sure, we know that it's still quite important for Aziraphale to convince Heaven of the faux-reason they gave for their accidental ✨25-Lazarii miracle✨. But if we're all honest, this all seems to be a tad much just to make two random humans fall in love, even for that.
Glittery ball gowns and suits? Red and gold wall curtains? A modified language filter? Bloody vol-au-vents?
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Talk about over the top ...
Once we start S2E5, Crowley is still surprised at the mere fact that Aziraphale is actually planning to organize the Monthly Meeting – and he doesn't even know yet that it's gonna be the most extravagant ball-boogaloo that the Whickber Street Community has ever seen! Aziraphale wanting to organize the meeting alone, is enough to render Crowley incredulous, because Aziraphale never mingles with the other shopkeepers. He usually actively avoids them and any sort of social encounters as much as he can because he doesn't care about the bloody Christmas lights, alright?
These things seem mundane and uninteresting to him, obviously, since all he really cares about is hoarding his book collection in peace like the little hedonist he is and drawing as little attention as possible to his none-business business.
Oh, right, speaking of books:
Let's take another unnecessarily detailed look at the whole Whickber Street invitation scene:
Aziraphale realizes very quickly that he's not the only one who's quite unenthusiastic about the blessed Chritsmas lights. And despite his very persuasive methods of temptation ...
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... he has to take some more drastic measurements. And those are?
That's right: Giving away his books.
I'll repeat it again, slowly: Aziraphale is willingly (!) giving away or lending his books to pretty much complete strangers to, allegedly, make two other humans strangers fall in love.
Seriously, who is that angel and what has he done with our prim, fussy, hedonistic Aziraphale that protects his books with the vice grip of an eagle carrying his precious prey?
Believe in the importance of Mission Lovebirds as much as you will, but we're talking about Mr. A.Z. Fell here who, over the past millennia, has pretty much spent every day actively working out methods to stop people from purchasing as much as a single paperback from his holy shelves.
And yet: the 1965 September Dr. Who Annual? Given away. The first edition of Expert at the Card Table that was S. W. Erdnase's personal copy? Lent away to grubby human hands to fondle around with.
Let's do another coloured dialogue diversion (don't worry, it's not as extensive as the last one):
Crowley: "You just did what I think you did?" Aziraphale: "I'm not prepared to talk about it." Crowley: "You gave away a book." Aziraphale: "I had to! Maggie and Nina are depending on me. They just don't know it yet."
Crowley backs up my point: This is a huge deal. Aziraphale does not sell his books – let alone give them away for free. We're all shocked! Flabbergasted!
And the explanation Crowley and us get just ... doesn't satisfy. Something and someone sure is depending on this Ball and doesn't know it yet. But it's most definitely not Maggie and Nina, folks.
You know for whom Aziraphale would give away his books in the blink of an eye, though?
Mhm, that's right.
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This pretty old serpent.
I want to take a minute to show you the reaction again that Aziraphale has upon entering the very same magic shop him and Crowley went to in 1941 to acquire the Bullet Catch:
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You ... you need a minute there, angel? You're sure looking a little ... affected.
And I mean, well, no wonder. He reminisced about that very memory four hours last night. To him, this shop is where the most turbulent, ecstatic, adrenaline-fuelled and romantic night of his life began. And it shows.
I've made my point in my other meta series about how Aziraphale is an incredibly nostalgic character. He romanticizes so many things in his memories – especially the parts that feature Crowley. So, it doesn't surprise me in the slightest that he's once again willing to loosen the tight grip he has on his book collection to get the successor of Will Goldstone's Magic Shop, the shop that started it all for him, to come to his fancy Ball.
As we watch Aziraphale and his little lap dog demon pat around Soho, I'd like to take another second to point out that he goes to seven or more establishments before he even invites Nina.
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... and he only does so because she starts talking to them on the street. Almost like he'd forgotten about it. Why not ask her at the very beginning? To establish whether or not he'd have to book-blackmail her too?
"Perfectly ordinary invitation with no hidden agenda of any kind", except that he's using you and Maggie as a pretence to resolve his own clusterfuck of a relationship-miscommunication Jane-Austen-style so that he can then hopefully confess his undying love to his demon not-boyfriend boyfriend.
Marvellous!
You'll forgive me another short diversion but my God, the whole exchange at the Marguerite's restaurant with Crowley literally cat-call-whistling Aziraphale over to him (and Aziraphale checking if he meant someone else first, I–)? I am weak. So, so weak and
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However, this is also when we get a snippet of Crowley finally revealing the truth in place of his "Oh, he's fine"-lie earlier and telling Aziraphale that he's actually pretty scared Jim might turn back into Gabriel and smite him altogether. And Aziraphale's response is, in a cosmic sense, (remember the pink paragraph now) so hilarious:
"Have you thought of just talking to him?"
Yeah, have you? Have any of the two of you? Just thought about talking? To each other? About anything?
'pparently not. But hey, it's all good because remember what the ultimate remedy for star-crossed lovers simply misunderstanding each other is?
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Bish, bash, bosh, problem solved!
Back at the ballroom bookshop, Aziraphale sends Crowley to invite Maggie in order to, in my opinion, not spoil the Ball-y surprise for him. (Inviting Maggie only now?! Wouldn't she be one of the only two guests who really should attend? Why the short notice? If she's really that important for the Ball you're planning, hm?)
On top of this, we see Nina almost not attending the Ball meeting after her partner broke up with her and Crowley being the one who coincidentally runs into her and ushers her into the bookshop before Shax and her "legion" of demons start creeping up on them. Again, if this hadn't happened by pure coincidence, Nina would have left to go home and this whole Ball would have taken place without her, rendering the apparent sole purpose of making her fall in love with Maggie useless.
Why doesn't Aziraphale care more for both of them to attend and be there? Why is he instead busy fussing over everything looking perfect and wonderful and doesn't even seem to notice that both Nina and Maggie are really late to the meeting?
Well. Well.
The answer's in the title, babes.
Alas, Crowley safely gets Maggie and Nina to join them, Mr. Brown is the only one who doesn't get a miracled outfit (fussy, petty angel, you just don't like him, do you?), Jimbriel stuns with glamour and flirt (and whatever sexually suggestive thing he does with his cheeks) and the Whickber Street Ball is a-go!
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Sorry, I just had to chuck this in again because Crowley's face here absolutely kills me every time. He looks so confused, I am hollering.
And the heart eyes Aziraphale is making at Nina and Maggie now that they're actually here?
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Oh, bless it, angel.
He's all like "Oh look, it's working! Jane was right! It's all going to be resolved, all the misunderstanding and quarrels! Crowley, where's Crowley–"
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Ah yes, there he is.
Ladies and gentlemen, this is an angel who is not listening to a single word being said right now. No, in his head, Aziraphale is already down on one knee, pouring his heart out to Crowley after they just danced the night away.
Oh, yes, right. The dancing.
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Parallel much?
But well, as marvellous and beautifully romantic as her stories tend to be, it turns out that Jane Austen isn't always right after all. Because before we know it, the perfect night shatters into many-a tiny pieces (literally).
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And once again, fhwack:
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... the rosy bubble bursts.
Let's take one more deep breath so I can make my final point:
In S2E2, Aziraphale explains to us very exactly what Jane's Balls (hrhr) used to be about: Solving miscommunication and confessing love to one another.
During his car journey back from Edinburgh, Aziraphale:
doesn't know Crowley's Mission Lovebirds had failed
remembers 1941 and just how badly he's in love with Crowley
and also realizes that they seem to have been wildly miscommunicating for quite some time now. (Crowley didn't even tell him he basically got let go!)
So, what does maddeningly strong love plus a want to resolve all the miscommunication equal? That's right: A night to remember! A Ball to change it all! A dance, a vol-au-vent, a confession. And, ideally, a happy ever after. Because:
“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man angel in possession of a good fortune Jane Austen collection, must be in want of a wife demon husband.”
The Ball was never for Nina and Maggie. As a byproduct, maybe, yes. But the whole rest of the glimmer and glamour, the careful, romantic planning and set up of it all, the book-bating the other shopkeepers– that was for Crowley and Crowley only.
And oh, if only it were as easy as in the books.
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*whispers* I'm sorry, I had to.
***
Your honour, the tinfoil-hat crackpot defence rests. Feel free to share thoughts (and prayers) if you want to!
Au revoir! 💗
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wriothesleybear · 4 months
Note
How do you think wriothesley would react if the reader has hidden his newborn from him after they broke up for a few months. Like hidden pregnancy trope
(BTW I LOVE UR FICS IT MAKES ME FEEL GIDDY AFTER A LONG DAY OF SCHOOLWORKS)
Even tho I'm not much for angst I really like this idea👀 this of course will have a happy ending because I don't need to be anymore depressed than I already am lmao. It makes me happy knowing that people enjoy my fics. It makes me giddy🥹❤️
~warnings: slight angst with somewhat happy ending.
Let's say you two had been together for a couple of years and it was good at the beginning but recently his job had been taking all of his attention. He barely came home, and when he did you two usually spent it arguing about his work and your relationship. One day you couldn't take it anymore and told him you thought it was best for both of you to go your separate ways. It was a mutual understanding and you both still cared for each other but you both agreed that you shouldn't be together anymore.
You found out you were pregnant a month after breaking up. It was a bit of a shock at first, worries that you wouldn't be able to take care of the child alone. You debated whether to tell Wriothesley and after a lot of thinking you decided that it was best to not tell him because he would be too caught up in his work to even be able to take care of the child. You felt a little bit of guilt but remembered you were doing what you thought was best for your child.
Skipping to 3 months after giving birth to your beautiful daughter. One day, you're out with your daughter, shopping for weekly groceries and that's when you run into Wriothesley in town. It's awkward. When he finds out, he is completely heartbroken and hurt. He always wanted a family with you and he told you before in the past so it really hurts him that you kept it hidden from him. When you tell him the reason why, he feels worse because of how you think about him. If you told him, he would have dropped everything and been there for you and your child. His child. He would be mature about it and ask you to let him be apart of you and your daughter's life. He promises that he will be there for you this time and it won't be like it was last time. You're hesitant at first but can tell he's sincere about it.
And he keeps his promise and is there for you and your child. Of course you have to teach him some things on how to take care of her but he's a quick learner and willing to learn. When either you or your child needs him, he does drop everything (assigns someone else to temporarily do his work) and he is right by your side, there to help you. Your thoughts on how he would be as a father have changed and you slightly regret not telling him sooner, but all that matters is that he's here now.
~a/n: Even tho I'm not one for angst, I have this idea for a short little fic where it's similar to this ask. Reader gets pregnant, they break up, and she never tells him, but in this one, the child is like 3-4 years old. One day, Wriothesley runs into reader and their child in town and he can tell it's his kid because they have some of his features. Reader confirms that he is the father of her child. Slowly reader allows him to be apart of their child's life and they begin to fall in love with each other again especially by seeing how great of a dad he is. Even tho I somewhat wrote about that here, I wouldn't mind writing headcanons or a small fic that goes more into detail about it. Hope this fulfills your request anon. Enjoy!❤️
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sykosugu · 29 days
Text
♤♢ on the run ♧♡ | one
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♤ summary: she's an infamous bank robber, and he's the only detective that's been able to get close to her. he was never apart of her plans. but he's got his clutches in her and she can't let go. a geto suguru au
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♢ warnings: this story will contain descriptions of violence, destructive behavior, toxic behavior, illegal activities, sexual content, death. use of weapons. forbidden romance
♧ aw smut, shower sex, p in v, unprotected sex, dirty talk, both are being manipulative in their own ways, cum play, choking if you squint, I think that's all tbh its all so numb to me at this point. if I missed any pls let me know!
♡ currently: completed
♤ taglist: closed
♢ wc: 3.4k
♧ carlile speaks:chapter one is finally here! I hope you're all as excited as I am. @celestie0 did get a lil sneaky sneaky bc I can’t resist her reactions! but based off of said reactions, I'm thinking you're all going to like this one! enjoy my babies!
♡: previous part | you are here | next part
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You often sat back and thought of how you and Suguru came to meet. The infamous meeting outside the bank that nobody ended up knowing about. Then, looking at now, the “home” you’ve created in this hotel room. Suguru, still under the guise of the detective on your case, the hotel room in his name is down the hall; he never actually stayed in there. He’d never let you out of his sight long enough to sleep in a different room. It’d been that way since that very day. You’ve been attached ever since. Over the course of your time together, he’d learned almost everything about you. Or so he’d thought. You told him a plethora of information; but not all of it was your information. Bits and pieces of people’s identities you’d stolen in your time as The Red Queen. Bits and pieces of your truth mixed in with their truths. You’re still not sure if you’d tell him the truth now, for you fear how he’d look at you now after trusting you so much.
Much to your initial dismay.
Being attached to a cop was less than ideal. He didn’t understand your lifestyle. He was details and late night stake outs. You were lavish and luxury.
And a criminal. But semantics. 
It took a lot of convincing for him to let you continue your scores; he was not too keen on it. But with the promise of him being able to help, he eased up on the opportunity.
In your mind, everyone usually got their items back. If they met your demands. Usually a large lump sum of money transferred into an untraceable off-shore account that would then be deposited into another untracable account that only you had access to, but was in a fake name.
Suguru was not a part of your plans. Then again, neither was getting caught and taken by him. But then again falling for him was the furthest thing from your plans.
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That first night, he’d handcuffed you to the bedpost, and just talked your ear off. Talked about his investigation against you. Talked about the late nights he’d spent thinking over the details he couldn’t get right. He somehow thought you were fake; an idea. He thought you were just a guise someone used because nobody had ever really seen you.
Nearly a week in, you tried to resist his charm. Tried to resist him. He was just so drawn to you. He was undoubtedly gorgeous. But he was quite literally the enemy. He could change his mind any time and take you in. Of course you don’t understand how he really feels for you, but he’s not too keen on showing you how much just yet. He needed to gain your trust first; and you his.
Suguru was a sweet talker. Oh boy was he. “C’mon, pretty,” he’d smirk at you. “Know you want some,” he’d hold out some of the california roll he’d been eating. The sauce sticking to the corner of his lip. The pad of your thumb reaches up absentmindedly and swipes it away, tucking the appendage into your mouth while maintaining eye contact. 
His eyes darkened at the sight. He’d ravish you here and now if you’d let him. “Mm, no thank you. I got enough from your mess,” you giggle, gesturing to his face.
He chuckles in response. “Well, you haven’t eaten anything since I brought you here. You have to eat something, Ru.”
“Ru?” you look at him with puzzled eyes. “Where did that even come from?”
“It’s cute and suits you.”
“I’ve never had someone describe anything about me as ‘cute’ you grumble, shifting to tuck your knees underneath you on the bed.
“Mm, and how else would they describe you?” he asks, inching closer to your side of the bed.
“Wouldn’t you like to know, detective,” you giggle, tucking his hair behind his ear. His breath hitches at the ghosting of your fingers over the skin of his face. You smirk. His skin heats up. You full on smile. “What’s wrong, Suguru? Cat got your tongue?” 
“You’re making it very difficult to keep my composure,” he’s turning and swinging his legs over the side of the bed, facing away from you. You take the opportunity to lift up on your knees, placing your free hand on his shoulders. “Ruby,” he warns.
“What, detective,” you whisper in his ear. You have him where you want him. He just needed to trust you before you could make your move.
He reaches up, grasping your wrist and pulling you as he shifts his seating on the bed, forcing you to lay across his lap looking up at him. “That’s enough,” he says, eyes somehow a darker shade of brown.
“I was just getting started,” your big doe eyes looking up at him, a sly smile on your face. You reach up, cradling the side of his face. If you can get him to trust you this way, maybe he’ll take the handcuffs off and you can get back to your life. “C’mon, detective. Live a little,” you mirror his words back to him.
“You have no idea what you’re asking for,” he says darkly, tracing the features on your face with his pointer finger.
“Think i can handle it,” you close your eyes as he starts leaning down towards you, eyes locked onto your lips.
Sliding out from underneath you, he dips his knee into the mattress, leaning over you, trailing his hand up your side. His fingertips teasing your hips and ribcage, making your breath catch from the tickle sensation.
“Mm, is she ticklish?” he asks more to himself, leaning down near your ear. “I can work with that” he whispers, taking your lobe into his mouth, the post from your earring colliding with his tongue ring.
“Please,” a strangled moan leaving your spit slicked lips as he attaches his lips to your neck. He chuckles against the skin.
“Please, what?”
“Please, touch me,” you whisper. He suspiciously eyes you from above, not entirely convinced of your change in heart.
“Do you think I’m dumb?” he asks, standing from the bed, making you roll off the side, wrist still bound to the post. You stand to look him in the eye across the bed. You’re fuming at this point.
“No, I think you’re a pain in my ass who threw a giant wrench into my plans, and for what? You’re not turning me in. You have me handcuffed to this bed, which only makes me think even worse things about you,” his eyes soften at that. He doesn’t want you to think he’d ever do something like that. “And you haven't told me anything,” With that, you take your seat back on the bed.
“I’m just trying to keep you safe,” he whispers. 
You laugh. I mean full on cackle. Tears start trickling down from all the laughter. “That’s rich, Detective. You don’t even know me.” you’re snapping at him now, He just lets you yell at him. You don’t understand the severity of what he’s doing. “How is kidnapping me and keeping me here with you, keeping me safe? There are people who expect me to get jobs done, Suguru. All you’re doing is putting both of us in danger.”
“Someone’s been trying to kill you,” he says matter of factly, sitting back down on the bed, facing away from you again.
“Y-you’re lying,” leaves your lips in the form of a whisper. No. Who would be trying to kill you? You thought you’d left everything in good standing when you decided to leave and drop the Red Queen title. You’d been trying to make a name for yourself, even though your entire MO is to not be seen or noticed.
“I’m not,” he promises, raising his right hand into the air, “Scouts honor.”
“W-who would want me dead?” you ask, more so to yourself than to him.
“A lot of people,” he quips. Suguru turns and faces you again, sliding closer to you on the bed.
“Okay, well I could have told you that. Who specifically to make you think a complete stranger needed your help,” the tone of your voice growing more and more irritated with each word.
“Toji Fushiguro.” leaves him in the form of a whisper. 
Toji? Your Toji? There’s no way. He was your saving grace when you decided to leave and go off by yourself. He was the one who helped you. He was your best friend. Or so you thought. How could Toji betray you this way? Maybe staying here for a while isn’t such a bad idea. But you still need him to trust you. “Now I know you’re lying.​​ Toji would never try to kill me,”
“Would you like to see the file I have?” he asks, motioning over towards his wall of evidence, the table beneath it covered in manilla folders and loose pieces of paper, pictures and crumpled up newspapers.
“Will you take the handcuffs off?” you ask, a flicker of hope flashing in your eyes.
“Well what would be in that for me?” he asks darkly, his hand reaching to caress the side of your face. You lean into his touch. Right where you want him.
“Would you like a continuation of earlier? Perhaps in the shower this time?” you grip his wrist, pulling his touch from your face, nodding your head towards the bathroom.
“Mm, now you’re speaking my language.” he grins at you, sliding to get off the bed again.”How can I trust you though?” he asks, fingers grazing over the handcuffs.
“You just told me you have proof that my best friend is trying to kill me. I don't think I have a good excuse to be alone with that in my head.” You lean down and kiss him. He’s taken aback but kisses you anyways.
“Best friend?” he asks, reattaching your lips. He pulls the key from his pocket, sliding it into the slot and unlocking your wrist. Taking it in his hold, he rubs the red marks left behind. 
“How sweet,” you internally roll your eyes.
“Well, former best friend. He’s my ex’s business partner but he was always my friend when I was there,” You roll the two of you over so you’re straddling his hips, keeping your lips connected., sitting up, wrapping his arms around your middle, holding you as close to him as possible. He places his hands under your thighs, standing from the bed as he walks you to the bathroom. Setting you down on the floor, beginning to take your top off.
“Your ex?” he asks, reaching for the button of your jeans.
“Mhm,” you assist him in the removal of his shirt after sliding your jeans down your legs. Suguru leans into the shower, setting the water to a good temperature before returning to you.
“You’re sure about this?” he asks, slipping his fingers under your bra straps to help you pull it from your body.
“So sure,” a sly smile forms on your face. You lean up, attaching your lips again as you reach to unbutton his dress pants, pushing the material down his legs. Right where you want him.
“Which ex?” Suguru breathes out, your lips wrapped around his cock.
“You really wanna ask me that question right now?” He nods down at you. “Mm, detective, hasn’t anyone ever taught you about time and place?” you tease him, licking up the underside of his dick. “I’ll tell you after, if you excite me.”
“Oh, Ruby. You have no idea.”
His hands find a grip in your hair, guiding your mouth up and down his length. His moans fill the air as well as the gurgles falling from your lips. “S-shit, Ru, th-that’s so g-ood,” his voice breaks, the feeling of your throat engulfing his every thrust has his head in the clouds. 
“Gonna cum down my throat, Detective?” You ask, pulling yourself off. Offering a stream of spit onto his cock, circling both of your hands up and down as you suckled on the tip.
He nods frantically, “If you don’t want that, better stop now.”
You double down, speeding up the motions of your hands, swirling your tongue over and over the tip. ‘Gimme your cum,” you moan around his cock. 
“Oh, f-fuck, Ru,” he’s breathless, “C-cumming!” moans escape him, his hands tightening in your hair. Right where you want him
Running your hands up and down his cock, milking every last drop of his cum onto your tongue.
“D-don't swallow it yet,” he breathes. But you’re one step ahead. You dribble his cum back onto his length, using it as lube to continue jerking him off. “Ohh, you filthy girl.”
“The filthiest,” you moan, taking him into your mouth again.
“J-Jesus, Ru, you’re so good.”
“I know,” you gloat a little, standing from your spot on the floor; keeping your hands on his cock, jerking and jerking and jerking him off, “But now it’s your turn to impress me.”
Suguru pulls you into the shower with him, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip, inviting your tongue into his mouth. He searches every crevice of your mouth, tasting every bit of himself on your tongue.
He sinks to the floor, slinging one of your legs over his shoulder. “I’ll have you reeling in no time, Ru.” Right where you want him. Wasting no time, he dives right in. Tongue slipping between your folds; nose bumping your clit in a delicious rhythm. One of your hands finds the shower wall, while the other anchors in his raven colored hair. Pulling his hair tie off, letting his long hair cascade around his shoulders, and frame that face, He looks angelic. Mouth full, eyes closed; he looks like a dream when he’s quiet. Although you appreciate the vocalness when it’s because of you. “Tastes so sweet,” he groans, reattaching himself to your cunt.
“Might be the sweetest thing i’ve ever had.”
“Hm, now you’re just trying to seduce me,” you tease him, running your fingers through his hair.
“What gave you that idea?” he grins up at you, sliding two of his fingers up your leg, tantalizingly slow, before having them join his tongue; prodding into your depths to make you a mewling mess before him.
“F-uck, suguru, right there.”
“I had a feeling,” he gins against your cunt, sliding his face all around the surface; really getting in there; making your back press against the wall for support. You’re close to losing your footing until his other hand slides up your hip, holding you firmly in place against the wall.
“D-Don’t you dare stop,” leaves you in the form of a moan.
“What’ll happen if I do,” he’s teasing you now. He’s got you right where he wants you.
“I’ll–k-kill you,” both hands are tangled into his now soaking wet hair. Looking down into his eyes, there's a glint of lust in there at your threat.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” he winks up at you, “But, I’d like to see you try, Ru.”
“Fuck you–hggn, oh god–Keep, go-oing, so close,”
“I got you, sweetheart. Give it all to me,” he coos, working you up into your release. His hand smooths down the expanse of your tummy before his thumb settles on your bundle, rubbing fast circles to milk every ounce out of you and onto his tongue.
“Oh, Oh g-god, Suguru,” you’re a panting mess above him, he just watches on with lustful eyes; reveling in the fact that he’s got you under his thumb.
Literally.
“Yeah? Gonna give me another?” he asks, diving back in with his tongue, You attempt to push his head away, but he’s got the upper hand since your legs feel like jello.
“C-can’t. Need a minute,” you slump against the wall, fingers gone limp in his hair.
“Oh, but where’s that attitude now? Hm?” He stands from his spot on the floor, hiking your leg over his hip.
“She’s still here, just gotta catch her breath for a second.”
“Mm, no time for that I’m afraid,” he swipes the tip of his cock through your folds, gathering some of the water and arousal left behind. He searches your eyes, asking for silent permission. Nodding your head, he begins to ease his way inside; albeit slowly due to his size and your less than active sex life lately. “S-such a tight squeeze, Ru,” he pants into your mouth, “N-not sure if I’ll fit,”
“M-make it fit, Detective,” with that, he smiles down at you, pulling himself from your cunt and spins you around to face the tile wall. Suguru presses your chest to the wall, commanding you to keep your hands–“Just about, here”--on either side of your head, palms flat against the wall. Pulling your hips back to get that perfect arch for him, hes swiping his cock through your folds once again, 
“Make it fit, you say?” he teases from behind you, offering a smack on your right buttcheek, “Don’t mind if i do,” and he’s pressing in. No resistance, just presses inside, holding your hips firmly in place so you can’t escape the sensation. Cries and pleas of ‘oh my god, more,’ leave your lips at every inch that makes its way inside of you. Suguru reaches around you, stimulating your clit once again to help with the sting; stilling his hips against your ass once he’s fully sheathed. “Gimme a kiss,” he moans out, pulling your head back by the nape of your neck to sloppily cover your mouth with his.
“Sugu,” a moan falls from your lips.
“Ooh, that’s a new one. I think I like that,” he teases once again. “Need something, Ru?”
“M-move, p-please.”
“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he slides his arm across your chest, holding you back against him as he begins a brutal pace with his hips. Over and over, his hips collide with your backside. Every thrust feels harder than the last. He’s got your head spinning. Every nerve ending feels like its been set ablaze; a fiery sensation begins pooling in your gut with the combined feeling of his length pressing every good angle inside your pussy, mixed with the feeling of his fingertips on your clit; plus the fact that your air supply is now getting restricted as the arm that was across your chest reaches up to firmly grasp the front of your throat in a headlock. You topple over the edge, seizing against his body in his hold. “There’s a good girl,” he praises you, “Gonna let me cum inside this sweet pussy? Hm?”
“Uhuh, mhm,” you choke out, “Fill me up.”
“With pleasure, Ru,” and he’s emptying himself deep inside; squeezing every ounce he can into your sensitive depths. Every drag along your plush walls has all of his nerves on fire as he begins to come down.
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“Now, which ex were you talking about?” He asks, pulling himself out, watching in awe as his cum spilled out of you.
“Oh my god, you’re still thinking about that after what we just did?” You ask, wrist reattached to the bedpost for an entirely different reason.
“Mhm, wanna know who I have to make you forget,” he smirks down at you, reaching to unlock your wrist for the second time tonight.
“I wish you could, if I’m being honest. I hate him,” your voice quiet.
“Who is he?” His fingers rub circles on your wrist.
“Ryomen Sukuna,” your voice shakes; his face pales. “The Red King.”
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That night was almost a year ago though. You and suguru have been secretly ‘seeing each other’, though the other still has no idea of the other's intentions, while you wait out the plan you’ve made against Toji. 
But after you’d asked him one question, you’re certain your feelings changed in that moment.
“Why do you always call me Ru?”
“Probably the same reason you call me Sugu,” he smirks at you, swiping a piece of your hair behind your ear as you two lay in bed after a long love making session after another successful score of yours. “Ru is short for Ruby, but it's also the ending of my name. Sugu, Ru. I have a hard time believing it's a coincidence that we met.”
“Well duh, you’d been tracking me for almost a year, remember?”
“Hush,” he kisses the crown of your head as it lays on his chest. You turn to look into his eyes, “I call you Ru because..You complete me. Just like how you complete Suguru,” he places a kiss on your nose, “You were made for me, Y/N.”
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♡ tags: @celestie0 @lostfracturess @carlacujo @alwaysfreakingout @shervinss @jaelahh @gojolvrr34 @shesplendl @phoenix-eclipses
(pls make sure ur settings are right to get tagged!
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moongreenlight · 7 months
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Ok I’m in the middle of doing four thousand things at once right now but I am personally having some thoughts about Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick that is forcing me to pause everything.
Mdni. Nsfw below cut.
He is so unbelievably obsessed with your pleasure. Obsessed with your sweet cunt and the way it reacts to him and his touch.
Literally cannot get off from head unless you’re 69ing because he needs to know that he’s making you feel good too. The combination of you mewling and gagging around his cock and the way you clench around his fingers when you come is guaranteed to get him to reach his high every time.
He honestly doesn’t even need to bury his cock in you. He can get himself off laying in bed with his head buried between your legs. Grinding against the sheets. Feeling you buck your hips against the tip of his tongue.
OBSESSED with giving you head. Daydreams about it. It’s all he fucking thinks about. And he’s SOOOOOO good at it. Takes time to watch the porn that you like so he can try to replicate some parts of it. Memorizes all the things you like and dislike. Incredibly attentive to all your tells. Is also SO coachable. Like he listens to directions for a living. A little to the left? Faster? Slower? Harder? Softer? Anything you want followed to a T.
He’s a pillow princess enabler. Buys you silk pillowcases and sheets and builds you a little nest in the bed before he settles in for the night. Rotating between licking at your pussy and fucking into you ruthlessly. Wouldn’t dream of asking you to get on top because god knows he tires you out enough as it is and he wouldn’t want to risk you needing to take a break or end things before he was properly done with you. Routine pauses to make sure you drink water. Feeds you sweets and cut up fruit or granola to keep your energy up because he’s so thoughtful.
Pleasure dom for sure. Practically demands that you send him videos of you touching yourself when you’re away from him on holiday or when he’s at work. Begs to see a picture up your skirt of your soaked panties after he’s spent your entire lunch break guiding you over the phone through multiple orgasms in your car. Insisting it will help you focus throughout the rest of your day.
He also definitely takes videos of you with your permission. Buys a tripod and everything. Zooms in close on your cunt so that he doesn’t miss a single detail. Takes hours and hours to lick at your clit in slow, measured strokes. Or he has you prop yourself up doggy style so he can pump a few fingers in you. Watching the way your sweet cunt drools and clenched and twitched around him. And he’ll go at it for HOURS. I mean it. Pulling orgasm after orgasm from you until you can’t stay up anymore. Can’t keep your legs from shaking. The breeze from the AC kicking on sends you screaming into your pillow because you’re so sensitive without him even touching your clit. At that point he’ll flip you over his knee and keep at it until you’re screaming and crying and physically cannot produce another orgasm. He’ll pout his lip a little even though his fingers have gone pruny from being buried in you so long, but he’ll be so gentile when he rolls you onto the bed and tucks you in. Rubs your back and massages your scalp until you fall asleep. Cooing into your neck about how well you did for him. How good you are. How much he loves making you feel good. Makes him feel good too.
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urvape1kz · 15 days
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CRAVING HIS TOUCH Gojo Satoru
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Pairing Gojo Satoru x Reader!
Summary: After divorcing Gojo Satoru following years together and raising two children, you find yourself facing lonely nights. Encouraged to start dating again, you meet the seemingly perfect Kento Nanami. However, every moment with him only intensifies your longing for Satoru, who coincidentally also misses you.
Warnings: Authors first smut, MNDI, cheating, possessive behavior, toxic relationship/behaviors, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, choking, breeding kink
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Dating, a degrading practice in the shoes of an underpaid not to mention divorced mother of two. A year ago you found yourself divorcing the man of your dreams, rich play boy Satoru Gojo. Satoru knew your heart inside out as if it were a map to paradise. He showered you with gifts from Dior and dates straight out of fairy tales on the top of the eiffel tower. Leaving him wasn’t fun; let alone easy. But his family's constant backhanded and abusive comments, along with their comparisons to his ex-girlfriends, made life with him unbearable. Despite your pleas for him to cut them off, he dismissed you with a casual "you know how my parents are” and never touched the subject again. 
At some point it all just became too much and you inevitably left. Since then, your friends have been relentless, practically pleading with you to to look into dating apps or let them play matchmaker. So, after slogging through eight apps and enduring at least a million disappointing encounters, just when you were about to lose hope, you stumbled upon Kento Nanami.
He wasn't as handsome as Satoru, that was for sure, but he was no ordinary catch. Kento was a world-renowned chef with undeniable charm, easily winning you over. he other day, he asked you out to the movies, and you couldn't resist saying yes. 
You spent hours preparing for your date, every detail was meticulously planned from your dress to your makeup. Everything was going perfectly, just as you had imagined, until you felt a slight buzz from your back pocket—it was your babysitter. 
"I'm really sorry, Ms. (L/N)," came her shaky voice on the other end. "My mom had an accident, and I don't think I can sit for you tonight." She sounded on the verge of tears. 
You let out a heavy sigh, understanding that it wasn't her fault. "It's okay, kid," you reassured her gently. "Take care of your mom. I'll keep her in my prayers."
A heartfelt "thank you" echoed through the phone before she hung up. As panic started to rise, you wracked your brain for options. Then it hit you— Satoru was still available wasn’t he?
Your finger hovered over his contact, once decorated with a bunch of heart emojis. You paced back and forth in your room, questioning whether reaching out to your ex so suddenly was morally okay. 
Who calls their ex out of the blue like this? you wondered. But it's fine.. you reassured yourself. We're co-parents; this is completely normal I mean I would have done the same for him. 
No you wouldn’t.
Despite your horrible attempts to muster courage, you couldn't bring yourself to call him. So, you opted for a text instead. 
"Satoru, I know this is short notice, but could you watch the kids tonight? I have plans."
Almost instantly, he replied—unsurprisingly, for him.
Of course. You don’t even have to ask their papa’s been missing them a whole bunch anyways :)  
His words tugged at your heartstrings, reminding you of the strained relationship you caused between him and his children. Taking a deep breath you shoved those thoughts away into an abyss because tonight was about you. 
--
Going to Satoru's house felt like stepping back in time—a mix of nostalgia and trepidation. Everything looked the same as you left it; the flowers you'd planted were still there, blooming as beautifully as ever not to mention the welcome mat you purchased over four years ago when you two first moved in together. 
Before you could muster the courage to knock on his door, your four-year-old twins Kyoko and Yugo darted ahead, banging eagerly on his huge sturdy wooden door.
"Daddy, we're here! We're here!" they shouted, their voices echoing in the quiet.
Almost instantly, the door swung open, and they melted into his arms like ice cream. Standing up his gaze locked onto you with a deliberate intensity that felt almost robotic. His eyes traced over your short red dress, lingered on your bold red lipstick, and took in your meticulously styled hair. The air between you was thick with unspoken words and memories.
"You look... amazing," he finally said, his voice betraying a hint of awe that clashed with the tension in the room.
Before you could respond, your son Yugo's innocent voice broke the silence. "Mama's got a date, Papa!" he giggled, oblivious to the weight of his words.
A sudden chill swept over you, and you felt the atmosphere grow heavy as the four of you stood there, caught in an awkward tableau. Satoru's face tightened, his eyes reflecting a mix of hurt and resignation. For a moment, it felt like time stood still, the silence stretching uncomfortably between you.
The tension was finally broken by your kids' eager pleas to play video games inside. Satoru hesitated, his hand lingering on the door as if he wanted to say something—anything—but couldn't find the words. Then, with a sigh he slammed the door in front of your face, the door that you two once struggled to open entangled in passionate kisses that you could still feel on the tip of your lips.
Gathering your strength, you made your way to your car, feeling on the brink of tears. Just when it seemed like the weight of the world might crush you, a text from Nanami lit up your phone.
"Just bought the tickets. Missing youu 💋"
Despite the stress you were feeling, a smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. You put the car in gear and headed to meet him at the movies. As you pulled up, you spotted Nanami waiting outside, a beautiful bouquet of white roses cradled in his arms. His face lit up as he saw you, almost tripping over his feet to greet you.
"You make me feel underdressed," he smiled, planting a kiss on your cheek.
"Oh, please. You do that to me every day with your fancy suits and ties," you teased back, taking his hand in yours as you walked inside.
"So, what movie did you pick? You never really told me," you asked, leaning your head on his shoulder as you walked inside.
"'Amants Interdits.' It's a French film. When I heard about it, I just knew you'd love it," he replied, excitedly swinging your hands back and forth.
While his intentions were undoubtedly good, the movie turned out to be a melodramatic mess that tugged at every lingering heartstring in your soul, reminding you uncomfortably of Satoru. As the credits rolled, you felt Nanami's hand gently cup your face, his eyes searching yours.
"Did I pick a bad movie?" he whispered, leaning in to kiss your lips softly.
"Mm... no, it was amazing," you whispered against his lips, trying to muster a smile. "Just... sad. I'm not really into dramas," you added with a forced laugh. As you leaned in to kiss him again, he pulled back slightly.
"You look beyond beautiful tonight, but there's something in your eyes... a sadness," he observed, his tone soft yet tied with concern. "You stepped out of the theater more than once, and I can't shake the feeling that it wasn't just the movie weighing on you. Why don't you head home and rest? Tomorrow's another day for us to enjoy each other's company right?” he smiled pressing his forehead against mine. 
“Nanami I don’t deserve you do I?” you muttered as the two of you walked out the theater cradled in each others arms. As he kissed you goodbye you opened your purse to find 2 hour old messages from Satoru.
Bought the kids take out hope you don’t mind
I don’t know if you want them to stay over but they’re asleep
As you drove, your mind raced with questions about how to handle picking up the kids. Should you say something? Should you ask for his help getting them to the car? No, that wouldn't be right. Lost in thought, you found yourself in front of his house sooner than expected. Taking a deep breath, you approached the front door and lightly tapped on it with your knuckles.
"Satoru, it's me," you whispered. Almost instantly, the door swung open, and your eyes met. There he stood, looking disheveled. His hair looked as if it had been untouched for days, and his eyes were reddened, as if he'd been crying for hours.
"You look la mess" you murmured, to which he scoffed, "You're one to talk," his eyes darting to the red smeared lipstick on your face. "How were your 'plans'?" he asked, his tone a mix of sarcasm and barely concealed anger. His breath carried the unmistakable scent of alcohol, worrying you with the kids in the house.
"Satoru, you've been drinking again, haven't you?" you yelled. "Where are Yugo and Kyo?" you demanded, pushing past him. 
"They're fine, (Y/N)! They're my kids! Do you really think I'd hurt them?" he shouted, his voice escalating. "You’re probably too busy to think about that when your mind is on other men though right?!" he accused, closing the distance between the two of you.
"Satoru—"  you began, but before you could finish, he had pressed your body against the wall, his hot breath mingling with that of your own.
Slithering his coarse hands between your thighs he felt the absence of your panties. 
“You never dressed like this for me, was I just not good enough for you?” He whined as his fingers found their way to your core, teasing your clit."I've already cut off everyone—my mother, my sister, everyone. I'd cut off the whole world to have you back with me," he groaned into your ear. “Satoru.. You aren’t in your right s-state of mind right now..” you muttered stumbling over your words “the kids are here..”
"The kids want us to be together, can't you see? Kyoko told me how much you miss me. She said that when you're alone in your room, you whisper my name, pleading and begging for me, are you that desperate and needy to be filled? Does he just not do it for you?” You opened your mouth but before you could answer his his fingers slammed in your pussy making your body jerk with a cry.
"(Y/N)..." he whispered, biting down on the rim of your ear. "Tell me you don't want me, and I'll leave. I'll let you go forever, just as you want me to," he growled, his lips brushing against yours.
His touch was like a key turning in a lock, unlocking a flood of memories that surged through your mind. Each sensation seemed to echo with the past—every whispered word, every shared laugh, and every tender moment you had once cherished together. The feelings you'd buried deep inside started to resurface, tugging at your heartstrings and making your pulse quicken. It was as if time had rewound, pulling you back into the whirlwind of emotions you once knew so well.
Your silence was enough of an answer for him as he kissed up your neck. Allowing you to lean back onto him with your head on his chest. Soft moans falling past your lips as you let yourself grind on his fingers. Another loud cry filling the air when he landed it hard on your ass instead.
Carrying you to his couch he plowed you on the red leather sofa the two of you bought after you gave birth you the texture brought you back so many memories but between that and satoru touching you your midn went blank 
"Look at yourself." He commanded sternly, forcing your head upward until you gazed at your reflection in the foggy window. Your eyes widening in embarrassment as you realized the state you were in. "Gonna give you another set of twins, triplets even, you want that baby?"
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you quickly nodded, desperation filling your heart. You needed him so badly; you longed for his cock to fill the emptiness inside of you. 
"Ahh, fuck." Another sharp slap echoed through the room, stinging your already tender ass. "So you do talk" He smirked, eager to hear the words he desired. "Please fuck me."
He chuckled, enjoying your pathetic submission. "You can do better than that, baby." His deep voice sent shivers down your spine. "Please. Please fuck me Toru. I've been so alone, aching for you. W-want you to fill me up." You pleaded, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.
"That's it. That's my slutty girl." His eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he thrust into you, claiming your wet entrance with a single powerful stroke. Your knees buckled beneath you, and your back arched involuntarily as his thick cock stretched you wide. You could feel the swollen tissue near your cervix protesting against the relentless invasion.
A low growl escaped your throat as his hand wrapped around your neck, pulling you closer to him on the sofa. Your hands instinctively pressed against your back, feeling the rough fabric beneath your fingertips. Your heart pounded wildly, your body responding to his dominance.
Just as you were about to reach your climax, the room was suddenly interrupted by the shrill ringing of your phone. Satoru's eyes narrowed, his grip on your neck tightening momentarily. He snatched the device from off the floor, his gaze fixed on the glowing screen. Jealousy flared in his eyes as he recognized the caller ID: “Nanami <3”
"Toru, please, just put it away," you begged, tears starting to form. But before you could say anything more, he answered  tossing the phone on-top of you, his smile smug, as if he'd just won the lottery.
"H-hello, Nanami," you stammered, trying to catch your breath as Satoru sped up. "Sweetheart, you sound terrible. Are you sick?" he asked, sounding genuinely concerned. You felt a lump in your throat, torn between guilt and pleasure. Ripping the bandaid off you blurted out "Nanami, we can't see each other anymore!" before abruptly hanging up. 
Once again, you were caught in Satoru's snare, the familiar sting of knowing you were heading for heartbreak not enough to make you turn back. Despite the pain you knew was coming, something inside you couldn't let go, couldn't stop yourself from falling into the same old pattern, even if it meant ignoring the chance for something real with Nanami.
"Good girl..." he hummed, his voice thick with lust as he slammed into you. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure and pain throughout your body, leaving you breathless and vulnerable. "You know I just want the best for you, for us, for our kids," he blurted out in the heat of the moment. His words were laced with sincerity and madness, blurring the lines between love and manipulation.
Your heart raced, unsure whether you should trust him or run as far away as possible. But the intensity of his touch, the way he claimed your body, made it hard to resist his charms. You moaned softly, your nails digging into his broad shoulders.
Good girl..." he hummed, his voice thick with lust as he slammed into you. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure and pain throughout your body, leaving you breathless and vulnerable. "You know I just want the best for you, for us, for our kids," he blurted out in the heat of the moment. His words were laced with sincerity and madness, blurring the lines between love and manipulation.
Your moans filled the room, a testament to your surrender. As you both reached your climax sloppily kissed you “Get pregnant.. m’gonna have you all to myself” he blurted throughout kisses as his eyes gleamed with anticipation envisioning your soon to be large belly.
You let out a loud defeated whimper, feeling the warm residue trickle from inside of you as he pulled out. Your senses swam in a haze as your eyelids fluttered shut, and you went limp in his arms, surrendering to the overwhelming emotions and fatigue. He cradled you gently, his gaze fixed on your face as you drifted in and out of consciousness. 
---
Waking up to the familiar scent of pancakes, memories of lazy breakfasts from your honeymoon in the states flooded back. Blinking your eyes open, you tried to sit up but quickly realized something was off. The room around you wasn't yours—it was Satoru's. Confused, you scanned the space, spotting your own furniture awkwardly placed among his belongings as if he had moved all your stuff  in.
Slipping out of bed in one of Satoru's oversized shirts, the scent of freshly brewed pancakes grew stronger as you made your way downstairs. As you descended, the sounds of morning chatter became clearer. There, in the kitchen, you found Satoru at the stove, flipping pancakes, with Kyoko in a high chair, happily munching away. Yugo, spotting you, abandoned his toy cars and rushed over, wrapping his little arms around your leg.
"Mommy, mommy!" he cheered, his eyes shining with excitement. "Papa says you're staying together forever, and we're gonna have little  brothers and sisters!"
Your heart skipped a beat as you shot a pointed look at Satoru, who paused mid-flip, giving you an awkward, guilty smile. 
You truly despised him with every fiber of your being, yet there was a burning desire in you that betrayed your feelings. 
“Gojo Satoru what have you done to me..”
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The Bond
Author: Nat / @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69
Relationship: Neteyam x Fem!Na’vi!Reader
Summary: The bond is a beautiful thing, but it’s also the most painful thing you ever experienced.
Word Count: 14k
Warnings: Smut. Unprotected sex (wrap it up kids). Major character death. Angst. Pregnancy. ATWOW spoilers.
Comments: Hockey people look away, look away… After watching ATWOW I physically could not stop thinking about ‘what if you could feel the bond’ the way Parabatai feel each other in the Mortal Instruments and one thing led to another… This really was supposed to just be a short little imagine just to get the idea out of my head so I could work on my other projects but then I went hmmm no I think this needs some context for it to make sense and then I proceeded to write their entire fucking story cradle to grave and spent WAY too much time fact checking every single detail… There were a bunch of ways I could have expanded this, but I told myself no because no one needs a 50k+ Neteyam story... Also, this was not betad because I was not about to subject my poor beta to my current Avatar obsession.
Disclaimer: I thought Neteyam was 20 the whole movie so that’s how old he is in this, which is about the same age Jake and Neytiri were in the first film. And also, Neteyam wears a battle belt, which means he is seen as a man among the Omatikaya.
do not repost, do not claim as your own
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Tsaheylu.
The bond.
The beginning and the end of everything.
You feel their breath, you feel their heart, you feel their strength. It’s your way to connect with the world around you. At least, that’s what they always told you.
It’s a beautiful thing the bond. You can ride and fly and see and hear without uttering a single word. And most beautiful of all, you get to feel your mate, if you were lucky enough to find one.
With a mate, it wasn’t just their breaths and heart you felt like a horse or an ikran. It was deeper, much deeper. You felt them. Their thoughts, their memories, the every ounce of their being. The bond ties you to them—to their soul—for life, connects you to them in a way you’d never be connected to anyone or anything for as long as you lived.
It’s a beautiful thing the bond.
--
You could remember the first time Neteyam brought up the possibility of mating.
The golden son, the next Olo’eykton, the first-born son of Toruk Makto and Neytiri, Neteyam always had big shoes to fill, and it was always something he struggled with in silence. Who was he to talk to about the shade of greatness he grew up in? His father? His mother? His little brother? None of them understood, and none of them saw him.
But you did.
For as long as you could remember, Neteyam had been your closest friend, and you his—outside of his siblings at least. Kiri wasn’t much younger than him, but she had always been closer with Lo’ak than him, and Neteyam had always had more of a protective, fatherly role than a brotherly one with them and Tuk especially.
But you? You held no expectations for him. With you he was just Neteyam—or ’Teyam when he made you laugh hard enough you could barely breathe. You did everything with him. Training, hunting, claiming a banshee. Every step, you were there, and there was no one you felt closer to than him.
You didn’t have a big family like he did, it was only you. But you had him. He was your best friend, your everything, your—
Neteyam was going to be the next Olo’eykton and whoever he took as his mate would be the next Tsahìk, so you knew it wasn’t a decision he took lightly. If his father wasn’t Jake Sully, you were sure he’d have been betrothed to a woman his parents deemed worthy of being the next Olo’eykton’s mate. You didn’t know if Eywa had her eyes on you at the decision not to betroth him because, on one hand, there was a chance he’d take you, but on the other, you knew him choosing another of his own will would break you irreversibly.
Neteyam had shown some interest in the other girls in the village, especially the ones his mother mentioned to him, but you never saw him have more than a few conversations with them, mostly about hunting, which they didn’t seem to appreciate as much as you did.
You didn’t know that they were never the one he wanted. That for him, there had only ever been one.
It was the eve of his iknimaya ceremony, the final step of him becoming taronyu, of becoming a man, that he first brought up the possibility of mating with you. Once he became a man, he could choose a woman.
The thought alone made your chest tight. You couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning in your tent before you finally resigned yourself and slipped out. A night walk in the forest would, at the very least, keep your mind occupied.
You should have known Neteyam had the same idea.
Becoming a hunter, becoming a man, becoming one of the People, and earning his place in the clan all weighed heavily on him. He lived in the shadow of his father who had gone from Sky People to one of the People to Toruk Makto to Olo’eykton in a span of a few months. He was only the sixth Toruk Makto since the first songs and Neteyam knew that even if he were to be a great Olo’eykton, he’d never be his father, and it ate at him.
No matter how hard he tried, Neteyam couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned but his mind fought his every attempt at sleep. He knew he needed sleep for the day ahead, but he wasn’t granted peace and finally he resigned himself to a walk to clear his mind. At the very least, the night would pass more quickly and bring him into tomorrow.
Neither of you realized the other was close, not at first. Your mind was so consumed by the thought of him that you weren’t looking where you were going and didn’t put the care into your steps like you knew you should. The snap of the twig under your step was secondary to you, but it made Neteyam’s ears twitch.
He wasn’t alone.
A moment later, another twig snapped under your foot and Neteyam let it consume his attention. All he had on him was his knife, but it would have to do, he was the best hunter of his age after all.
He followed your uncaring, twig breaking steps silently with his knife down, unsure of what he was following. But as soon as he caught a flash of blue skin in the dark, he let himself relax a little. When he stepped a little closer to get a clearer view, he sheathed his knife as he let out a soft laugh. He’d know you anywhere.
The sound of his laugh made your ears twitch and you tensed. You’d know that sound anywhere. “Neteyam?” You breathed as you turned around and a moment later, he revealed himself with his hands up and a playful smile on his lips as he said your name back to you.
“It is late,” he told you as he stepped closer, his tail flicking behind him. “You should be asleep.”
“As should you,” you replied and returned his smile. “You have a big day tomorrow.”
“Ah,” he brushed you off with a short wave of his hand. “I’ll be fine,” he told you. “I do not have to hunt tomorrow, just become taronyu.”
Your smile slipped for half a moment before you pushed it back up. “I know,” you replied, hoping your tone didn’t betray you.
His ears straightened as he watched you and he hoped, oh Eywa he hoped, that he wasn’t misinterpreting your hesitation as he stepped closer to you. “Once I become taronyu, I may take a woman.”
You couldn’t hide the disappointment in your eyes so you turned away from him. “I know,” you whispered. “It’s a big day for the clan. There are many fine women to choose from.”
His heart dropped, fearing rejection from the only woman he had ever wanted. “I know,” he said and let his tail brush yours as he stepped around you, forcing you to look at him.
You shivered at the touch but brushed it off as an accidental touch. “Your father is very fond of Miayho, and your mother favours Zia,” you told him softly, unable to meet his eyes.
“You’re right,” he agreed. “But I’ve already chosen.” His words made your heart drop and you tried to turn away from him again, but he cupped your cheek to stop you. “But this woman must also choose me.”
“She must be lucky,” you whispered, your heart aching.
“She is,” Neteyam smiled. “She is strong and beautiful and a little slow at times, but she is the only one I could ever want.”
“’Teyam,” you breathed, your voice breaking, but his smile never faltered.
“I’m speaking of you,” he told you and softly shook his head. “Tomorrow I am granted the chance to choose a woman, and you are the only woman I have ever wanted. I choose you, if you choose me, too.”
You were quiet as the weight of his words sunk in, but slowly you cupped his cheek, too. “I chose you the moment I saw you,” you replied and rubbed your thumb over the deep blue line that traced the arch of his cheek.
Neteyam’s smile filled your chest with warmth and you leaned forward to rest your forehead against his. Neteyam’s smile softened as he rubbed his nose against yours. He’d mate you right here right now if you let him, but it was not the way, and a day was a short wait compared to the years he had already been waiting.
“So, it is decided, then?” He asked as he pulled back to look at you.
“It is,” you blushed and dipped your head as your ears went back, already itching to reach for your braid. At your words, Neteyam’s shoulders lightened, somewhat anyway. The weight of being the next Olo’eykton and living up to his father still plagued him, but he knew as long as he had you by his side, he’d be alright.
“We should sleep, then,” he told you and bit his lip. “I intent to mate you before Eywa tomorrow.”
Your blush darkened as you smiled. You didn’t dare ask if his mother or father approved of the match, you didn’t care, you just wanted him, needed him. “We should,” you agreed and tilted your chin up. “It is a big day tomorrow.”
Neteyam’s smile widened and he dipped his head. “A very big day,” he agreed and took your hand before he led you back to the village. The sooner you both fell asleep, the sooner tomorrow would come, and the sooner you could become one.
“You could stay with me,” you told him as you approached your tent.
There was nothing Neteyam wanted more, but he also knew his father would expect him in his own bed bright and early and he didn’t want to start the big day on the wrong foot. “Tomorrow night,” he replied and dipped his head. “Tonight will be our last night apart.”
You hated when he pulled his hand from yours, but you knew he was right, that it was the way. You had waited years for this, you could wait another night. “Tomorrow,” you nodded.
“Tomorrow,” he echoed you before he stepped back. Still, he watched as you slipped into your tent safe and secure before he made his way back to his own and prayed to Eywa his father hadn’t noticed his absence. Thankfully, he hadn’t, and Neteyam settled into his bed with a smile and warm chest.
Tomorrow he became taronyu.
Tomorrow he became a man.
Tomorrow he gained you. 
His eyelids were heavy and sleep came more easily to him. One moment he was thinking of your beautiful golden eyes, the next he was passed out, dreaming of your smile and the comforting flowery scent that always clung to your hair.
--
The sun woke him bright and early like it always did and he smiled as he stretched out.
Today was the day.
“Are you nervous?” Lo’ak asked him over breakfast and Neteyam rolled his eyes.
“Why would I be nervous?”
Lo’ak’s shit eating grin widened as he shoved his brother’s shoulder, “that no woman will want to mate with your ugly face.”
Any other day Neteyam would have told his brother off and shoved him back, but your words were still fresh in his mind—I chose you the moment I saw you—and his ears went back as he dipped his head.
Lo’ak’s smile faltered as he moved closer, his ears perking up before he knocked his shoulder against his brother’s. “Bro,” he said under his breath so their parents wouldn’t hear. “Got something you’d like to share?”
Neteyam knocked his shoulder right back against his brother’s. He was quiet for a moment as he debated whether he should say anything, but Neteyam knew his brother well, better than anyone, and he knew Lo’ak wouldn’t stop pestering him until he spilled. “I may have already chosen a woman,” he said with a small smile. “And she has chosen me as well. We will be mated before Eywa.”
“Bro,” Lo’ak breathed and put his hand on the back of Neteyam’s neck as he gave him a little shake. “You asked her?” Neteyam didn’t have to say a name for him to know he meant you.
Neteyam dropped his head again as he nodded, “it is decided.”
“I am surprised she settled for your skxawng ass, but I am happy for you, bro,” Lo’ak grinned, and he laughed as Neteyam bared his fangs at him and shook him off.
“Watch who you call skxawng, skxawng,” he replied, making Lo’ak laugh hard enough that their father looked over at them and their ears went back as they quickly went quiet.
Jake watched his sons for a long moment before he stepped over and sat down next to Neteyam and put his hand on his shoulder. “Are you ready, son?”
Neteyam smiled as he nodded, “born ready, sir.”
“Good,” Jake smiled and patted his son on the back. “Your mom has the paint, whenever you’re ready.”
Neteyam’s tail flicked behind him. “Actually, if it’s alright, there’s something else who I’d like to do the paint.”
For a moment Jake’s eyebrows raised as he looked at his son before the corner of his lip twitched up as he remembered when Neytiri painted him for his own iknimaya. “Of course,” Jake nodded. “But you have to tell your mother.”
His mother wasn’t exactly happy to give up the chance to paint her first born son ahead of the ceremony, but Neteyam rarely asked for anything and she could see in his eyes that it meant a great deal to him, so she resigned herself and handed the bowls of paint over to him. “I hope you chose well, my son,” Neytiri told him.
“I did,” Neteyam replied with a smile. “Thank you, mother.”
The bowls were full and despite their small size, they felt heavy in his hands as he headed out to find you. Neteyam knew both you and the village like the back of his hand so it was easy for him to find you. you blushed as he met your gaze and he smiled before he lowered his head to you and he sat down across from you.
“Shouldn’t you be getting ready?” You asked him softly, buzzing with anticipation of what was to come.
“I should, yes,” he agreed and sat the bowls of paint down in front of you.
“Neteyam,” you breathed. It was traditionally done by mothers.
“I want you to,” he smiled. “That is, if you want to, too.”
You were quiet for a moment before you nodded. “I want to,” you smiled softly and moved the bowls closer to you, the weight of their significance not lost on you as you beckoned him closer. “Now?” You asked softly.
Neteyam nodded as he moved closer. You blushed when he ginned at you shoved his shoulder before dipping your fingers into the white paint. You started with his arm, your touch light as you traced familiar patterns over his skin. Neteyam shivered, both at the coolness of the paint and your touch and it made you blush deepen as you focused on your lines, not wanting to mess any of them up, especially when you felt the weight of his gaze on you.
After his arms, you moved on to his chest and you gave Neteyam a look when the corner of his lip twitched up. “I am well aware you are a mighty warrior, Neteyam,” you told him and pulled your fingers back so you wouldn’t ruin the lines.
“But now you feel that I am a mighty warrior,” he smirked, making you roll your eyes.
You were quiet for a moment as you tried to think of a reply. Slowly, you trailed your fingers down his abdomen and let your lip twitch up when you felt him tense at your touch. “I do,” you hummed and looked up at him. “And soon I will feel all of you.”
You bit your lip as Neteyam’s eyes darkened but you devoted your attention to finishing the lines on his abdomen before you picked up one of the bowls and moved to his back, giggling as Neteyam’s tail kept flicking as you traced the patterns on his skin and once you were done, you hesitated before pressing a soft kiss to the back of his neck and giggled when his ears stood straight up.
“You are a tease, woman,” he breathed as you settled back in front of him to paint his face.
“Am not,” you replied with a smile as you dipped your fingers into the paint again. “Now stay still.” To his benefit, Neteyam was still as he watched you, his tail flicking every now and then as you traced careful lines over his face, finishing with a feather light touch over his lips.
Your tongue darted out to wet your lips as you looked him over. “You are ready,” you told him as you sat back on your haunches.
“I am?” He asked and you nodded.
“You are.”
Neteyam knew kissing you would ruin the paint you worked so hard to get perfect, but he still thought about it and it took every ounce of his self control not to kiss you. “Thank you,” he smiled before he stood and your heart fluttered in your chest as you took him in.
Your best friend. Your lover. Your mate.
A man.
You took his hand when he extended it to you and let him lead you down to where the ceremony would take place. To no surprise, his parents, siblings, and grandmother were already there and when you met his mother’s gaze, you get go of his hand. You weren’t mates yet and this was his ceremony. A ceremony for the clan.
At the loss of your hand, Neteyam looked back at you but you gave him a reassuring smile as you encouraged him on with a nod so he returned his gaze to his parents. Slowly the rest of the clan emerged and began to form the circle around him, and you.
“Neteyam,” Jake started as he looked at his son, trying and failing to restrain his smile. “My son. You tamed an ikran and completed your dream hunt. You are one of the People now,” he said before putting his hands on Neteyam’s shoulders just like Eytukan had done to him many years before. Once Jake touched Neteyam, the rest of his family and then the clan followed suit, one by one until everyone was connected as they welcomed Neteyam into the clan as a man.
You smiled at him as the people began to separate and once he could, Neteyam turned and put his hand on your shoulder, making you blush. His parents weren’t oblivious as they watched you, and Jake gave Neytiri a knowing smile as he held his hand out to her. It felt like just yesterday that she had done the same to him and he was happy for his son. He chose well, just like he did.
--
Every time a member of the clan came of age, there was a celebration. It was filled with food and dance and stories and songs; and Neteyam spent the whole night looking at you.
He was seated between his father, the Olo’eykton, and Lo’ak, and you were across from him, much too far for his liking. He could hear the people telling stories, but he wasn’t listening as he focused on you. You were the only thing that mattered to him.
You had put flowers in your hair and you wore a top he didn’t recognize so it had to be new and Neteyam couldn’t take his eyes off you. You were his everything.
It was only once the sun began to dip in the sky and people returned to their tents that Neteyam was able to steal some much needed alone time with you.
Neteyam washed the paint off and put his newly earned battle belt on by himself, but Jake stuck around with a gut instinct and gave his son a nod before he put his hand on his shoulder. Neteyam didn’t have to tell him for him to know he intended to take a mate, he remembered his own youth well and he could only hope his son found the same happiness he found in Neytiri.
Neteyam nodded back to his father, a smile playing on his lips. “Are you sure, son?” Jake asked and Neteyam nodded.
“More sure than I have ever been.”
“Good,” Jake nodded and squeezed his son’s shoulder. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
It was Neteyam’s turn to laugh and he shrugged his father’s hand off, dipping his head to his father one final time before he slipped out to find you. He was a man now, and you were his to claim.
Neteyam held his hand out to you and you blushed as you took it and let him guide you toward the Tree of Souls. If you were to be mated, then you were going to do it properly and you would be mated before Eywa.
It was only you and Neteyam before the tree and your heart raced with anticipation. By the time you got before the tree, before Eywa, you were a couple steps ahead of Neteyam and your ears twitched with every step he took to close the distance between you. Your tail flicked as he shifted his weight and it took him way too long to touch you, his hand just barely brushing your back to make you look at him.
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he said softly, giving you an out. But you didn’t want an out.
“I want to,” you told him, holding his eyes before you slowly lowered yourself to your knees, your heart racing. This was the moment you had been waiting for your whole life, with the person you had been hoping for.
Neteyam followed your lead and knelt across from you before he pulled his braid over his shoulder. You held his gaze as you did the same, your braid heavy in your hand. You had made the bond with horses and your ikran, but taking a mate was something else entirely. Your heart raced with excitement and anxiety as you gripped the end of your braid and held it up, your tendrils searching for his.
You held Neteyam’s gaze as he gripped the end of his own braid and held it out. You let your eyes drop to your braid as he brought his closer. He paused to give you a chance to pull back, and when you didn’t, he moved his braid closer, letting his tendrils intertwine with yours.
It was unlike anything you had every experienced before.
The air left you lungs and you closed your eyes as you leaned into him, resting your forehead against his as you took a deep breath to steady yourself. His touch felt like electricity as he trailed his hands up your arms. And then you were overcome with warmth and familiarity and comfort. Home, you realized. You felt at home. You pulled back to look at him, your jaw slack and pupils blown and you found Neteyam looking back at you with the same awestruck expression. Warmth and pleasure coursed through your veins and when he cupped your cheek, you leaned into his touch.
And then he kissed you. For as long as you could remember, you dreamt of the touch of your mate, but it was so much better than you could have imagined and you melted into the kiss as you rested your hands on his shoulders and moved closer.
Neteyam’s hands trailed down to your hips and you let him pull you onto his lap, both of you desperate for every touch you could steal. You pulled back from the kiss to catch your breath as you struggled to keep air in your lungs, your pull to Neteyam so strong. Your jaw was slack as you looked at him and you were sure your pupils were as blown as his were.
“Neteyam,” you breathed and rubbed your nose against his, craving his touch.
“I know, my name,” he breathed and rubbed his nose back against yours as he let you feel him through his loin cloth. It pulled a soft moan from your lips which he quickly quieted with another kiss.
“I need you,” he said against your lips and let his hand brush the top of your tail, knowing how sensitive it was, and he was rewarded with you rocking your hips into his.
“I need you, too,” you told him and pulled back so you could run your hand down his strong chest to his newly earned warrior’s belt. It wasn’t something you had ever put on let alone taken off, so Neteyam had to help you rid himself of it so you could once again trail your fingers down his abdomen and down to the top of his loin cloth.
Neteyam’s soft groan had heat pooling between your thighs and you were sure he could feel it. “’Teyam,” you whispered and covered his hand on your hip with your own. His golden eyes were dark as he looked at you and you slowly guided his hand up to your chest, needing him to touch you.
Neteyam had seen your chest more times than he’d care to admit, the necklace and beads provided little coverage, but seeing you and feeling you were two entirely different things. Your skin was warm and soft beneath his touch, but your nipples were hard and when he caught it between his fingers, he was rewarded with a soft moan from you, which he desperately wanted to hear again.
He licked his lips as he brought his hand up to your other breast. His hands dwarfed you, and you moaned and leaned into him as he pinched your nipples, learning exactly what you liked, what you needed.
“’Teyam,” you whined and rocked your hips into his once again. His touch wasn’t enough, you could feel him and you needed him. “My mate,” you whispered and trailed your hands down his back.
“I know,” he nodded. You didn’t have to tell him for him to know. He gave a final tweak to your nipples before trailing his hands down your sides to the band of your loin cloth. He kept his eyes on yours as he undid it and slowly peeled the material away from you. it only made your racing heart more intense as you rested on his lap, and your tail brushed his knees as he looked at you before he laid you back against the soft moss.
You were bare to him, but you didn’t care as he looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky. Neteyam ran his eyes over you before he reached down to untie his own loin cloth, and then there was nothing between you.
“Please, ‘Teyam.”
He nodded and ran his hand up your thigh toward where you needed him most. As soon as his thumb reached the seam of where your thigh met your hip, Neteyam could feel how badly you needed him, your wetness coating your skin, pulling a soft groan from him.
When he finally touched you, his touch was light and you let your eyes close as you moaned softly. He was gentle as he trailed his fingers up your slit to the bud at the top and he was rewarded with a loud gasp when he rubbed your clit. He watched you with careful eyes as he circled the bud with his fingers and felt how you throbbed for him.
The tips of his fingers were rough from his years of hunting, and between the roughness and sureness of his touch, you wouldn’t last long. Your high was building fast and when you opened your eyes and found his familiar golden eyes looking back at you, it sent you over the edge.
“Neteyam,” you moaned as you came, your back arching as you pressed your hips into his hand. Neteyam groaned as you drenched his hand and he kept rubbing your clit through it, loving your blissed out expression. It was only when your moans turned to whines that he trailed his fingers down your slit to your entrance.
“May I?” He asked and you nodded quickly so he pressed his finger into you, moaning at how warm and tight you were. His mate, he thought. His perfect mate.
Once you adjusted to his finger, he added a second, not wanting to hurt you. He felt your every flutter around his fingers and it made his cock ache. “I need you,” he told you, his voice rough from holding himself back.
“Then have me,” you replied and spread your legs wider, desperate for your mate.
“Eywa have mercy,” he whispered and pulled his fingers from you before slotting himself between your thighs. He didn’t have to ask, he could feel your need, and he held your gaze as he guided himself to your entrance.
You gasped as he pressed into you and he rested his forehead against yours until his hips were touching yours. “My mate,” he breathed as you ran your hands down his back, and when you wrapped your legs around his hips, you felt his tail brush your ankle. Neteyam’s breaths were shallow as he rested his forehead against your shoulder, both of you needing a moment to adjust.
You were finally tied together the way you always should have been.
Together.
Connected.
One.
“’Teyam,” you breathed once you had adjusted and you cupped the back of his head.
He knew exactly what you needed and he nodded as he pulled halfway out before thrusting back into you and started a slow rhythm, soaking in every feeling of you. You had never felt so connected to someone and you melted at his touch, unsure of where you ended and he began.
His movements were slow but sure and you were consumed with the feel and smell of him. He filled you in a way you didn’t know you could be filled and you could feel yourself get closer and closer to that high with his every movement.
It wasn’t long until your moans grew louder and you dug your nails into his shoulders as your tail thrashed against the moss. When you came, your veins were filled with warmth, a warmth that only Neteyam could feel as his hips stuttered. The feeling of his mate cumming around him was indescribable and it pushed him ever closer.
He fucked you through your high before he picked his pace up, searching his own high. It wasn’t long before he came, too, burying himself deep inside you as he filled you up. You gasped at the feeling and pulled him closer, needing every piece of your mate you could get.
Neteyam smiled into your neck as you both caught your breath, and he pressed a light kiss to your skin before he pulled back to look at you with a soft smile. “We are mated before Eywa,” he breathed and cupped your jaw.
You leaned into his touch with a soft smile. “We are mated for life,” you replied, making his smile widen.
“My mate, my beautiful mate,” he smiled and rested his forehead against yours as you both soaked each other in.
You stayed with your forehead against his as your highs melted away, and slowly Neteyam pulled out of you, murmuring a soft apology when you whimpered at the loss of him. You could still feel his every breath and heartbeat, just like he could feel yours, and when he reached to break the bond, you shook your head. “Can we stay like this?” You asked softly.
Neteyam dropped his head as he nodded and he gave you a small smile before he kissed you softly. His every touch felt like home and you melted into him. He ran his thumbs over your cheek as he looked at you, his eyes full of love for you before he let himself settle behind you. His chest was warm against your back as he wrapped his arms around your waist and you smiled to yourself as you leaned back against him.
You could feel his breath and his heart and the entirely of his being.
Whole, you realized, you felt whole. Neteyam was your other half, the part you hadn’t realized you were missing. Your everything.
The bond was a beautiful thing.
You smiled as you melted back against him. Your eyelids were heavy and it was easy for sleep to claim you, and when it did, you dreamt of your future with Neteyam—the way you’d grow together and the son he’d give you—and you smiled as you slept, unaware that Eywa had shown Neteyam the same dream.
--
When you woke to the sunlight streaming on your face the next morning, Neteyam was already awake, just soaking in the feeling of you, your braids still conjoined. He smiled when he realized you were awake and guided you onto your back so he could look at you as he rested on his side.
“Good morning, my mate,” he smiled softly.
“Good morning, my mate,” you repeated and reached out to cup his cheek. Neteyam leaned into your touch, making you smile as you ran your thumb over the arch of his cheek.
All he wanted was to stay wrapped up in you forever, but he knew you both had things to do and expectations to meet. “We should head back to the village,” he whispered and you sighed before nodding.
“We should,” you agreed, even if all you wanted was him.
He nodded and pressed a soft kiss to your lips before he asked to separate your braids. You didn’t want to, but you nodded and let Neteyam pull his braid from yours. You gasped at the break, feeling colder than you did a moment before, but even without the bond you could feel Neteyam. It was nowhere as strong as when your braids met, but he still lingered in the back of your mind and you knew you lingered in the back of his. You gave him a soft smile as you trailed your hand down his arm and he grinned at you, so in love with you.
It wasn’t hard for both of you to redress, through it did take you a few extra moments to clean your thighs, which made Neteyam smirk as he watched you, both of you taking your time, neither of you wanting the moment to end.
You had left the village as individuals, but now you returned as a mated pair. You held his hand as you let him guide you through the village toward his parents, toward the Olo’eykton.
As the Olo’eykton, it was his duty to know of every newly mated pair, and had it been anyone but his father, you wouldn’t have been so nervous. Sure, it was soon after his iknimaya, but he was still a man. But it was Neteyam’s father and Neteyam was the next Olo’eykton, making you, his mate, the next Tsahìk, and you couldn’t disappoint his family, or the People.
To no surprise, his family was already awake. Village life always started early.
“Neteyam,” Neytiri started when she laid her eyes on her oldest son, but her next words died on her tongue when she saw him holding your hand. He didn’t have to say anything for her to know. At his mate’s voice, Jake looked over and the corner of his lips twitched up as he saw his eldest son, already sensing his earlier intuition was correct.
“Mother, father,” Neteyam said and dipped his head to his parents, his hand never leaving yours, “I am taronyu now,” he continued. “Which means—”
“You may now choose a woman,” his mother finished for him, thinking back to the night she told Jake the very same words.
“Yes,” he breathed before he glanced back at you with a smile. “And I have.”
“You have?” Jake asked and Neteyam nodded as he looked to his father.
“We are mated before Eywa.”
His mother took a sharp breath in, not in disapproval, but out of realization that her eldest son had truly become a man and had left her nest. Jake touched Neytiri’s arm to ground her as he nodded to his son. “We’re happy for you,” he said for the both of them before looking at his own mate, encouraging her to say something.
“We are,” she breathed and stepped forward to cup Neteyam’s cheek. “My son,” she whispered and ran her thumb over the arch of his cheek.
Neteyam smiled at his mother before he nodded and pulled back from her touch, his smile widening as he looked at you and let his tail brush yours. Jake nodded at the interaction before he smiled at you, “welcome to the family.”
Your smile widened before you dipped your head to him. “Thank you, sir.”
“Nah,” Jake waved his hand. “It’s Jake.” He told you, though one day you’d come to call him ‘dad.’
You were welcomed into the Sully family with open arms. Neytiri had her reservations, as would any mother, but Jake adored you. He saw how deeply you cared for Neteyam, and how deeply Neteyam cared for you, and though he’d never admit it, Jake could see him and Neytiri in you two.
Neteyam’s youngest sister, Tuk, adored you and though Neteyam was her best friend, you were a close second. Kiri was happy to have another sister, and one closer in age than Tuk. And Lo’ak…
Lo’ak treated you like you had always been there. He didn’t hesitate to make fun of you like he did for the rest of his siblings, and he certainly didn’t hold back as he made fun of you picking Neteyam for your mate. It always made Neteyam roll his eyes and, more often than not, call his sibling a skxawng, but it made you smile because it meant you were truly part of the family and you loved it.
The bond was beautiful, as was the family you gained with it.
The problem was, nothing stayed perfect forever.
Everything changed the day Jake realized there was one too many stars in the sky.
Twenty years before, Toruk Makto led the clans to victory over the Sky People, all Na’vi knew his story, but the war was over, something of the past, something that had come and gone before either you or Neteyam were born—or it was supposed to be anyway.
The Second War against the Sky People was more intense than you could have ever imagined, with the guns and the fire and the relocation and the devastation and the death—so many deaths.
A very capable hunter, Neteyam was always involved in the war effort. A spotter. He tried to reassure you that it was the safest role he could have, that he wasn’t on the ground on the front lines, but it didn’t make you feel any better. There was no “safe” in a war. And you had seen too many of your people die.
As the mate of the next Olo’eykton, you could be the next Tsahìk, so Mo’at had taken you under her win, teaching you so you could one day take her place. So, unlike your mate, his parents and his brother, your role in the war wasn’t out there but back at home as you worked to heal the wounded—and make comfortable those who would be welcomed into Eywa’s arms.
You knew your role was important, but it was hard. It was hard to see the devastation and the death, and it was hard knowing your mate was out there and could just as easily be the next person who came through the tent flap in need of help.
You could never breathe deeply, let alone eat or drink, until he was home safe.
And the day he came back home bruised and bloodied, you dropped your tray of herbs before you rushed to him, even as Jake scolded him and Lo’ak.
“I’m fine,” he told you softly, but the blood on your hand said otherwise.
“You are bleeding, he is bleeding,” you said as you turned to Jake after he finished his little speech. “I am taking him to Mo’at.” Neytiri backed you up, also worried for her son, so Jake dismissed him and you heard Neytiri arguing with him as you led Neteyam toward the healing tent, your hand on his back.
“I’m fine, truly,” he repeated once you two were out of earshot of his parents.
“You are hurt,” you replied softly and stopped to look at him, taking his hand in yours. “My heart aches seeing you hurt.”
Neteyam gave you a soft smile and rested his forehead against yours. “I am fine, my mate,” he said before he kissed you. “I feel no pain when I am with you.”
His words made your heart flutter and you retuned his smile. “You still require healing,” you replied and led him to Mo’at’s tent where Kiri was helping her grandmother.
You knew you should help Mo’at, but you couldn’t find it in you to leave your mate’s side. Kiri knew what to do, she was even better than you were, and you were more than happy to let her assist Mo’at while you held Neteyam’s hand, the end of your tail curled around his ankle.
Your heart ached every time he winced at the sting of the antiseptic and you squeezed his hand as you watched Mo’at and Kiri. His wound looked worse than it was, and you let out a relieved breath as they finished up.
“See?” Neteyam smiled weakly. “I’m okay.” You shook your head but still thanked Eywa that your mate was alright.
Still, you struggled to find sleep that night, your mind consumed with the what ifs of your mate’s injury. It would be too easy for his injury to be worse, for him to be taken from you. You had seen too many lose their mates the last year and had their blood curling screams as their hearts shattered beyond repair permanently imprinted in your memory.
To lose a mate was a fate worse than death, and you knew you’d never survive it.
Neteyam healed quickly from his wounds and Lo’ak was grounded for his recklessness. Neteyam was back on his ikran long before Lo’ak was, and without his ikran, without being involved in the war, Lo’ak somehow managed to create even more trouble as he convinced his siblings to return to the old shack.
It was a harmless intention born out of boredom and frustration, but the results were life altering.
It was Avatars. New Avatars. In tactical gear. They managed to get Lo’ak, Kiri, Tuk and Spider under their knives and you didn’t want to think of what could have happened if not for Jake, Neytiri and Neteyam. But Jake knew they’d never stop hunting them, hunting his family. They may have won the battle, but the war still raged.
Everything changed after that, after they took Spider.
Jake and Neytiri knew the People would never be safe as long as they stayed with them, so they had to leave.
The words were like stones in Neteyam’s heart as he told you his family was planning to leave.
The Forest was your home, the only place you ever knew, the only place you ever wanted to know. The Forest was where you were born, where you grew up, where you fell in love with Neteyam, where you were supposed to raise your children.
Neteyam could sense your hesitation. “My father said it was for the best. He said that the Sky People are hunting us and not the People, so if we leave, the People will be safe,” he explained as he took your hand in his and brushed his tail against yours. “But I will stay with you if you ask me, my mate.” He would follow you to the end of the world if you asked.
You tightened your lips as you thought, but it was an easy decision. Just a painful one. “I go where you go,” you told him softly and squeezed his hand. “You are my home and my future, Neteyam.”
In hindsight, you really wished you had asked him to stay.
You packed your things onto your ikran and your heart ached as you said your goodbyes, but Neteyam was your mate. You couldn’t be without him.
Neteyam flew by your side as you left the Forest and even without touching him, you felt his comfort and you gave him a soft smile. As long as you were together, you’d be alright.
In the end, you found sanctuary with the Metkayina, the reef people.
It was hard to learn their ways, it was hard leaning the way of the water when the Forest was all you knew, but what you didn’t expect was how hard it was to see Neteyam lose his battle belt. His whole life he had been working toward it, working to become taronyu and earn his place among the People, and he barely had it a year before it was taken from him; before his symbol of manhood was taken from him.
Neteyam may have been taronyu, a man, among the Omatikaya, but you were Metkayina now and the iknimaya of the Omatikaya meant nothing here. He had to learn the way of the water and earn his place among the Metkayina before he’d be seen as a man.
Like Jake, Neteyam’s ears dropped as his belt was taken away and you did your best to steel your shoulders like Neytiri. You both had to be strong for your mates.
None of you were seen as adults among the Metkayina, but rather as children. It frustrated some more than others, like you and Neytiri. Neteyam took after his father and tried to take the transition in stride and did what he could to fit in.
And if the relocation and the helpless feeling wasn’t enough, you were sick a few times after the transition. Initially, you blamed it on the dietary shift. Sure, fish had been a part of your diet before, but it was freshwater fish and something you only had on occasion rather than every meal of every day. It was easy to blame your sickness on the fish, you just didn’t realize that none of the others were getting sick. Not until you were shucking oysters with Ronal at least.
Ronal was the Tsahìk of the Metkayina. She saw all and she was especially hesitant toward you and Neytiri. Both you and Neytiri were being trained to become the Tsahìk of the Omatikaya, so it was natural for you both to resume your training with Ronal, she just wasn’t overly fond of the idea.
Ronal let it go the first few times you gagged at the smell of the oysters before she sighed. “Have you mated recently?” She asked without looking at you.
Your eyes bugged at the question. “Why do you ask?” You replied and stopped shucking to look over at her.
“Because I am wondering if you are with child,” Ronal replied, and the knife slipped from your hand.
“What?” You asked breathlessly.
“With child,” she repeated simply. She had had two children of her own with a third on the way, and she had helped to deliver more babes than she could count. She knew the signs well and given the amount of time she had been spending with you over the last couple weeks, she could see them in you. When you didn’t answer, Ronal looked over at you, “it is a simple question. Have you mated recently?”
Your ears went back as you blushed and nodded. Ronal hummed and put the oyster she was holding and her knife down before she stood and beckoned you up. She hummed as she looked you over before she touched your forehead and then your stomach.
“Food aversion?” She asked and you nodded.
“Fatigue?” You nodded again.
“Have you bled?” You thought about it for a moment before you ears went back further. You had been so focused on fitting in and your mate you hadn’t realized.
Ronal hummed and stepped back. “I do believe you are with child,” she said before she returned to her oysters like your world hadn’t just shifted on its axis—again.
Your hands shook as you gently touched your stomach.
Pregnant.
You—
You’d be lying if you said you couldn’t be, you certainly found comfort in your mate’s arms many, many times since the relocation. But pregnant? Now? Could there be a worse time?
Slowly, you pulled your hands back and took a deep breath to clear your mind and ground yourself before you picked your knife back up and reached for another oyster.
“There are other things to do,” Ronal told you. “If the small bothers you, you will be slow. Tsireya will provide you with a different task to do.” You wanted to take her up on the offer, but you could hear Jake’s voice in your head telling you not to cause trouble and pull your weight, so you shook your head.
“I will be fine.”
She hummed but wasn’t surprised when you gagged again a moment later and she cast a look in your direction. You sighed as you nodded and moved your basket of unshucked oysters over to her, “I will find Tsireya.” If she smiled as you walked away, well, no one had to know.
Everyone was still so focused on fitting in and you could see the way looking after Lo’ak and keeping him out of trouble weighed on Neteyam, so you kept the news to yourself. If you told him, he’d only worry about you more than he already did and you didn’t want that.
And, well, it was no surprise that Ronal wasn’t fond of you. Forest People. Outcast. Alien. But knowing you were with child made Ronal soften. She didn’t look at you with the same animosity she did the others, and every time she saw you, she was sure to ask how you were doing. The Sullys were smart people, and it didn’t take Neytiri long to put two and two together and realize something was up with you, but she kept her suspicions to herself as she kept a careful eye on you.
You had always been the more affectionate one in your relationship with Neteyam, always touching him or seeking to touch him, but now you were reserved. At first, Neytiri thought you two were fighting, but Neteyam assured her you weren’t, that it was just the move and the swimming was exhausting you and the fish wasn’t agreeing with you, which was true—it just wasn’t the whole truth.
It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell him. You did, you just didn’t want to add to his already full plate, and then the longer you kept it a secret the harder it was to tell him. Between Kiri’s seizure and Norm coming and Lo’ak and Neteyam’s fight with Ao’nung and Payakan and the Tulkun, there just wasn’t a good time to tell him.
It was only after yet another dinner you couldn’t keep down that the truth finally came to light.
“You are unwell,” Neteyam said as he followed you toward your hut. It was the third time this week and he was tired of you constantly brushing it, and him, off.
“I’m fine, Neteyam,” you sighed. “It’s just—”
“The move? The fish?” He repeated your words back to you. “No, I don’t believe you. Have you spoken to Ronal? She is Tsahìk and she could help you.”
You hesitated before you turned back to look at him with tight lips before you sighed and took his hand. He gave you a concerned look as you guided him down to the beach where you could have some privacy. “Ronal can’t help me,” you said as you turned to face and gently fiddled with his fingers. “Because I am not sick.”
“It is just us, my mate, you never need lie to me,” he replied softly and used his free hand to cup your cheek.
“I’m not lying, ‘Teyam,” you breathed and covered his hand with yours before you guided it down to your stomach. “I’m not sick, I’m with child.”
Neteyam froze as he let your words sink in before he softened. “You are with child?” He whispered and stepped closer to you.
You nodded, “it’s horrible timing, but—”
“But nothing,” he smiled. “This is amazing news! We’re having a baby—the first of many I hope.” You were taken by surprise when he picked you up and spun you around, completely elated.
You laughed softly as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders before you patted him. “Enough, ‘Teyam, I’ll be sick again.”
“Right, sorry, my love,” he replied and sat you down, his smile never wavering as he touched your stomach again. “I’m just really happy.”
“I am, too,” you said softly and covered his hand before you kissed him softly. He cupped the back of your head to keep you close, but you both couldn’t stop smiling so you pulled back and rested your hand on his chest, feeling the familiar, comforting beat of his heart.
Neteyam wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer by the small of your back before he rested his forehead against yours. “I would take you here and now on the beach if you let me, my mate,” he hummed.
“Anyone could see, including your parents,” you laughed.
“Then let them see,” he hummed and when he tried to kiss you again, you shoved him back, making him laugh loudly before he pulled you close again, the tips of his fingers brushing the base of your tail, knowing how sensitive it was.
“Once the sickness passes,” you told him and guided his hand back up to your back.
Neteyam softened and he nodded, “of course, my mate. May I at least hold you tonight?”
“I’d expect nothing else,” you smiled and let him lead you back toward your hut. Once Neteyam closed the flap, you rid yourself of your top—another sign of your growing baby was how swollen and sensitive your breasts had become and the weight of the beads irritated you in a way they never had before.
Neteyam groaned low in his throat as he knelt on the bed, “are you sure you don’t want me to pleasure you, my mate?” He asked softly.
“Maybe tomorrow,” you laughed and pulled him down next to you and you laughed when his hand managed to find your breast after he settled behind you. He didn’t try to do more than hold your breast while his other hand rested on your stomach, so you let him as you pressed yourself back against him.
The reef wasn’t the Forest, but it was nice and welcoming and you could see you two raising your children along the blue water and sandy beaches. Neteyam’s tail curled around your ankle and you smiled as you tried to press yourself closer to him. You could feel him smile into your neck and it was easy to fall asleep.
He was your everything.
This family was your everything.
And if you knew what would happen next, you would have fought sleep to soak in the feeling of his arms one last time. You would have memorized the beating of his heart and the rise and fall of his chest. You would have traced every dark line that decorated his body. You would have held him a little longer.
You wouldn’t have taken the moment for granted, expecting thousands more in the coming years.
But you didn’t know what would happen so you didn’t, and the ache of regret would eat at you for the rest of your days.
The bond… it’s a beautiful thing.
Until it isn’t.
--
The village was devastated by the hunting of the Tulkun by the Sky People. They were their spirit brothers and sisters, and Jake didn’t have to say it for you to know it happened because you were here. They weren’t hunting the Tulkun, they were hunting you. When Jake took the tracker from Neteyam, you took his hand and he tried to reassure you as he squeezed your hand.
“You tell the Tulkun if they’re hit by one of these, they’re marked for death.”
Jake’s words hung heavy in the air. Neteyam gave you a look that told you everything would be okay, but your stomach still twisted. You came to the Metkayina to hide; to keep your people safe. You promised them you were done with war, but the war still followed you—and at the cost of their spirit siblings.
And because nothing ever came easy, Lo’ak was determined to warn Payakan himself. Neteyam followed Lo’ak, knowing his brother better than anyone and his suspicions were confirmed when he saw Lo’ak gathering a saddle for an ilu.
He shook his head, a frustrated smile on his lips, “no way, you’re not going, baby brother.”
Lo’ak wasn’t having any of it. “I have to warn Payakan,” he told his brother firmly.
“No. You have to keep your skxawng ass here,” Neteyam replied, gritting his teeth. For once, could he just listen to him.
But Lo’ak never did. “He’s outcast. There’s no one to warn him but me.”
Neteyam shook his head as he clenched his fist. “Bro, why do you always have to make things so hard?” Neteyam said exasperated as he touched the top of Lo’ak’s’ head, but Lo’ak quickly shoved him off as his eyes hardened.
“No. You mean why can’t I be the perfect son like you, a perfect little soldier. Well, I’m not you, okay? I’m not you. He’s my brother. I’m going.” Neteyam clenched his jaw as he stepped back, his brother’s words cutting him like a knife. If he only knew the weight of his words, but he didn’t and he never would as Neteyam swallowed back the bitter words threatening to spill out and he steeled himself as stepped closer to his brother.
“Oh, he’s your brother? No, I’m your brother,” his voice was hard as he stared Lo’ak down, but Lo’ak didn’t concede and he scoffed before he dove in the water, heading for Payakan and Neteyam knew he had to go after him.
“Neteyam!” You called as you came up behind him and he shook his head.
“He’s going to Payakan,” he told you and you were hot on his heels as he summoned his ilu, as were Tsireya, Kiri, Tuk, Ao’nung and Rotxo. But when you went to summon your own ilu, Neteyam put his hand on your stomach to keep you back. “I need you here where you’re safe,” he told you but you shook his head.
“I’m going, Neteyam.” He opened his mouth to argue, but your look silenced him. Wherever your mate went, you would follow.
His tail flicked as he clenched his jaw before he nodded. “With me then,” he said before he dove into the water and you followed his lead. You quickly settled behind him on his ilu and wrapped your hand around his waist while he held onto the reigns of the ilu with one hand, his other hand reaching back to hold your thigh, keeping you against him as he followed after Lo’ak to Payakan.
By the time you got to Payakan, Lo’ak was struggling against the red tracker buried in Payakan’s back while the others tried to help. You and Neteyam were quick to jump on and help, but the tracker was in deep and you realized quickly that the demon ship was rapidly approaching.
“Call dad,” Neteyam said to Lo’ak. “Just do it.”
He didn’t want to, he knew the trouble he’d be in, so he hesitated before he called Jake. Lo’ak’s words were muffled as you all focused on the tracker. Your heart raced as you kept glancing between it and the demon ship. “Come on, come on, come on,” you said as Neteyam tossed a rope up to Ao’nung who wrapped one end around the tracker while Neteyam wrapped the other end around the reigns of his ilu.
“Please, Eywa, please,” you whispered as you pulled and pulled and finally the tracker gave, and you all fell at the release of tension. Neteyam was quick to gather the tracker as Lo’ak told Payakan to go.
“Go, I’ll draw them away,” Neteyam told you, making your blood go cold. When you opened your mouth to argue, Neteyam shook his head. They were after the tracker and Neteyam couldn’t have it anywhere near you, your baby, or his siblings. “Take Tuk, I’ll see you after.”
You had no choice but to nod and you gathered Tuk and Kiri on Kiri’s ilu and led them into the seaweed for cover, but the submarines followed you. Your mind raced as quickly as your heart as your ilu weaved between plants and leaves, desperate for any cover, but there wasn’t any to be had. There was too many of them.
The submarines swarmed you, forcing you off the ilu and you kept your eyes on Tuk as you swam toward an air pocket, Lo’ak and Tsireya right behind you while Kiri ended up with Ao’nung and Rotxo. “They’re coming,” Tsireya said and you were all quick to dive back under, but it was useless. The submarines could move faster than you could swim.
It was over when they launched the net at you. You didn’t realize it was coming until it was too late, the net already surrounding you and the air left your lungs as you began to panic. Lo’ak managed to escape before it caught him and he pulled at the net trying to rescue you, Tuk and Tsireya, but it was no use. The net scooped you up and dropped you on board the demon ship. Your vision swam as you tried to catch your breath, your lungs burning, and before you knew it, you were bound to the demon ship’s rail.
You watched as Tuk, Tsireya and Lo’ak struggled against the bonds but you knew it pointless. You were stuck. You were stuck and your mate was somewhere out there. You felt useless as the Metkayina attacked the demon ship. When you came and begged for sanctuary, you had promised them there would be no more war and now the war was here and they’d die because of your family.
You looked Tuk and your heart sank at the terror in her eyes, and you were so focused on Tuk you didn’t notice Payakan until he was on top of you, desperate to save Lo’ak.
All hell broke loose after that.
“Don’t watch,” you told Tuk. “Keep your eyes on me, okay?” Neteyam had always been her favourite family member, but you were a close second given you were his mate. Her cheeks were wet with tears as she nodded. “Just keep your eyes on me, Tuk,” you repeated.
It was only when Neteyam jumped on board that you were finally able to take a deep breath. A smile played on his lips as he cut your bounds, then Tuk’s, then Tsireya’s before he reached his brother and cut him free. “Who’s the might warrior? Come on, say it,” he grinned as he touched Lo’ak’s head before he turned back to you.
“Bro,” Lo’ak smiled and reached for a gun while Neteyam had his back to him.
“Go, get out of here. Take Tuk. Go,” Neteyam said to you.
“Neteyam—” you tried but he shook his head.
“Go,” he repeated, begging you to listen to him, and you clenched your jaw as you tried to lead Tuk away, and Neteyam kept his eyes on you, desperate to make sure you and Tuk were safe. But when he heard the familiar click of a gun, he turned back to his brother.
“We have to go,” he said but Lo’ak shook his head.
“He has Spider. Come on, bro, we can’t lose him,” Lo’ak said and headed into the ship.
Neteyam protested under his breath before he followed after his brother. Lo’ak always had to make things difficult.
At the same time, they managed to grab Kiri. Tuk’s scream for her sister would forever be imprinted in your memory, but you had to get her to safety. Jake and Neytiri would get Kiri.
Except, Tuk fought your hold on her before she slipped free and headed back for the ship. “Sullys stick together,” she said and you grumbled under your breath before you abandoned your ilu and headed after her, needing to keep her safe.
“This isn’t a good idea, Tuk,” you whisper shouted at her, but she ignored you, desperate to save Kiri, and you were sure to be quiet as you followed her.
“Kiri!” She called when she saw her sister, slipping under the bars as you both tried to break Kiri’s bonds, but it was no use and an Avatar was quick to bind Tuk to the rail next to Kiri before shoving you back into the water. Your heart sank and you wanted nothing more than to jump up and fight and rescue them and keep them safe, but when the bullets hit the water, you knew it wasn’t an option and you called to a nearby ilu and quickly jumped on. You’d have to find another way to rescue them and you circled the water looking for any sign of your mate and Lo’ak.
You were granted a moment of relief when you saw Tsireya, but it was short lived as you realized she was alone and your heart sank. Tsireya pulled her ilu up beside yours and pursed her lips as she shook her head. Neteyam and Lo’ak had to still be on board.
Your heart twisted before a flash of cold went through your body and you gasped for breath under the water, the air bubbling around you as Lo’ak, Spider and Neteyam jumped into the water above you, bullets still raining around you.
No.
No.
You knew it. Before he could even say it, you knew, the freezing cold blooming in your chest that left you gasping for air as you resurfaced in the water.
“That was insane, cous,” the voice was muffled in your ears.
“Neteyam,” you breathed and reached out to him.
“You skxawng, I’ve been shot.”
Panic coursed through your veins and you swore you didn’t breathe as you wrapped your arm around him to keep his head above the water, the normally clear water stained red with his blood. Too much blood.
“You’re okay, you’re okay,” you said to both him and yourself, even as the ice in your chest melted to a sharp ache that shot down your arm and Neteyam’s expression twisted in pain.
The panic in Lo’ak’s eyes mirrored your own as he helped you get Neteyam onto the ilu before he pulled you on too. “Shit,” he hissed under his breath. Neteyam was a mighty warrior, the best of his age, but he was weak in his arms.
“They have Kiri and Tuk,” Tsireya tried to tell him, but the words never really processed for him.
“We can’t go back,” he replied and raced for the rocks, Tsireya and Spider holding on to the side if the ilu’s reigns. You kept your hand pressed against Neteyam’s chest as you moved through the water and his hand gripped your wrist tightly, needing to hold on to you, needing to anchor himself to you.
It only took a minute to get to the rocks, but it felt like hours. Lo’ak helped you carry Neteyam as he gritted his teeth in pain. Your chest felt tighter with every passing second and you didn’t know if it was your own anxiety, or your mate slipping through your fingers.
Your hands shook as you moved around him and your ears started to ring as you rolled him onto his side. The shot was clean through.
“It’s almost always better for the bullet to be clean through.” You could hear Jake’s voice in your head and you laid him back and put pressure on his chest as you begged Eywa to help you.
It was almost always better.
Almost.
Neteyam’s hands were coated in his own blood and he looked up at you with wide, terrified eyes before he grasped your bicep, his grip nowhere near as strong as it was when he held your wrist.
“You’re okay, you’re going to be okay,” you told him, willing your voice not to shake so you could be strong for your mate. He breathed your name before he scrunched his face up like he was trying to get away from the pain. “You’re going to be okay,” you repeated before pulling your eyes away from his as Jake and Neytiri settled around you.
“No, no, no,” Jake whispered as he perched across from you.
“Clean through,” you told him before he could ask, your ears back and hands red with Neteyam’s blood, and your heart dropped at the way his ears went back. “No,” you whispered, unable to muster your voice any louder before you looked back at your mate. He had to be okay.
He had to.  
“You’ll be okay,” Neteyam told you as he struggled to force air into his lungs.
The ache in your chest began to ease to a fuzzy feeling and you shook your head. “No, no, Neteyam.” You couldn’t lose him. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t survive it.
“You’ll both be okay,” he breathed, his voice softer than a whisper as he dropped his hand to your stomach.
“I see you; I love you,” you told him, desperately trying not to cry and you pulled one of your hands from his chest to cup his jaw, your thumb tracing the dark line that decorated the arch of his cheek.
“I know, I—”
Neteyam never finished his sentence and his hand dropped from your stomach, leaving a bloody handprint in its wake.
You felt the moment he died.
The warmth, the comfort, the unmistakable feeling of him, fizzled out, replaced instead with an unshakeable feeling of emptiness.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.
You were supposed to spend your life with him.
It was supposed to be you and him.
You and him.
You were lightheaded as you settled back on your haunches, your hands red with his blood and Lo’ak caught you as you swayed.
Numb.
The only way to describe the feeling was numb, like he had taken your soul with him when he died, leaving nothing but an empty shell in his wake.
And maybe he had.
The bond is beautiful, that’s what they tell you. But they never tell you of the anguish that comes with it.
You could separate your life into before Neteyam and after Neteyam. The before wasn’t important, it didn’t matter, because Neteyam was your world. He was your everything, your world spun on an axis of you and him. The People say you’re born twice, once when you are born and then again when you find your place among the people, and you were born again the day Neteyam chose you. And now all that was left of your mate was his bloody handprint and the world had the audacity to keep on spinning.
The ringing in your ears drowned out Neytiri’s blood curling scream for her first-born son, and you slouched into Lo’ak as you kept your eyes on Neteyam’s. His beautiful, golden, lifeless eyes.
You didn’t hear Jake ask Lo’ak where his sisters were. You didn’t hear Tsireya tell him they were on the ship. You didn’t hear Spider tell him to follow him. And you certainly didn’t hear Jake tell Lo’ak to stay and that he had done enough. You didn’t hear any of it as you kept looking at your mate, unable to pull your eyes away, no matter how painful it was.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.
You only heard Lo’ak tell Tsireya he was going because he pulled back from you, jostling you enough to pull you from your trance to steady yourself. “Lo’ak, no,” she replied desperately, but there was no stopping him as he dove back into the water, leaving you alone with her and your mate’s dead body.
You didn’t know how long you two sat there in the silence, it could have been seconds or minutes or hours, before Tsireya broke it. “We should wash your hands,” she said softly.
You curled your hands into fists. You didn’t want to. Washing the blood off meant losing the only tangible part of your mate you had left. But you knew she was right, so you nodded and you moved on autopilot as she led you to the edge of the water. Your gaze was blank as she washed Neteyam’s blood off your hands, but you drew the line when she reached for your stomach.
“No,” you said sharply and gripped her wrist before she could touch you. Her ears went back as she nodded before she took your hand in hers as you sat back on the rock.  
You felt both empty and heavy at the same time as you sat there before Tsireya found her voice again. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, unsure of what else to say.
Your ears went back as you nodded, not trusting your voice. You opened and closed your mouth a few times before you looked over at her. “You and Lo’ak deserve better,” you whispered and touched your stomach, desperate to remind yourself of something worth living for.
Her ears went back even further as her shoulders dropped, but she followed your hand with her eyes. “He—” she started before she stopped herself. “Are you?” She asked instead.
You nodded again before you looked over at her with tears streaming down your cheeks. “I can’t do this on my own. I can’t do this without him.”
Her shoulders dropped as her ears went back again. She couldn’t imagine what you were feeling. “You won’t do this alone,” she told you softly. “You have the village behind you.”
You knew she only meant to comfort you, but her words only reminded you that Neteyam would never meet his child. “But I need him,” you whispered before you pulled your hand from her and pushed yourself away from the water’s edge.
Your heart broke all over again as you looked at your mate, laying there lifelessly, blood staining his beautiful blue skin. His eyes were still open as they stared at the sky above—at nothing. You couldn’t help the sob that escaped you as you looked at him before you reached out and softly closed his eyes. He’d look like he was sleeping, if not for all the blood.
But despite all the blood, you laid down next to him and gently put your head on his chest as you curled into him, your tail wrapping around his ankle.
His chest was silent and still and you wept into him, begging Eywa to give him back.
But she didn’t.
His chest never rose, his heart never beat, his skin never warmed, and his eys never opened.
He was gone.
Your beautiful mate was gone and there was nothing you could do to get him back.
--
The funeral was harder than you expected, having to say goodbye to his body as you, Jake and Neytiri lowered his body down to the Cove of the Ancestors. You knew that he was gone, that your mate was gone, that it was just a shell of his being, but you still wept, your tears burning your eyes more than the salt ever did.
Your lungs burnt as the air left you as you watched as the cove took his body, wrapping around him as it slowly consumed him, and just like that, he was gone, a piece of the ocean.
The way of water has no beginning and no end. The sea is around you and in you. The sea is your home, before your birth and after your death.
The first thing anyone heard when you resurfaced was your sob and you let Neytiri hug you as you sobbed into her shoulder. “My child,” she whispered as she held you close.
“It’s not fair,” you managed to get out between sobs.
“I know,” she whispered, her heart just as broken as yours.
Eywa holds all her children in her heart, but all you wanted was to hold him in your arms.
--
And if you thought the funeral was hard, visiting the Spirit Tree was even harder. Jake and Neytiri had gone soon after the funeral but took you days to get the courage to visit, to visit Neteyam.
Your tears disappeared into the salt water as you held your braid in your hand. Your heart ached in your chest, but slowly you let your tendrils connect with the Spirit Tree.
At first, all you felt was warmth as white consumed your vision, but then you were filled with the familiar view of the Forest, of your home. You smiled to yourself as you looked around, and just like that, Neteyam slipped out from between the trees, his battle belt and ikran eyewear on and your eyes watered as you looked at him, every bit the man you loved.
“Neteyam?” You asked and he smiled as he came around you, his tail wrapping around yours in a way he knew comforted you.
“Why are you crying, my mate?” He asked concerned he reached out to cup your jaw.
“I’m just happy to see you,” you told him breathlessly and you committed his smile to memory.
“I’m happy to see you, too, my mate,” he replied and you trailed your eyes over every mark on his body as your heart wept.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.
Neteyam was your everything, your best friend, your lover, your mate, the father of your child.
From the moment his braid meant yours, you felt him. You felt him in a way no one else could and no one else would. You felt his being. And too soon you had felt him go.
Memories of you two as children, growing up, becoming teenagers, and falling in love, flashed before your eyes and you took water into your lungs as you sobbed, forcing yourself to pull back from the spirit tree and returned to the surface, one hand treading water as you held your stomach with the other.
A boy, you thought suddenly, the Tsahìk abilities you had been training for finally showing themselves. You were having a boy.
The bond is a beautiful thing, but it’s also the most painful thing you ever experienced, the beginning and end of everything, of all that you are.
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demigoddessqueens · 10 months
Text
fearless (sweet) leader
An A-Z sfw fluff alphabet for Miguel
A/N - companion piece to my NSFW work here on ao3
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A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
Miguel is not the most overly affectionate, mostly because of his past, but he slowly melts into it because he’s denied himself for so long
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
Pretty awkward start 😆 he’s a closed off person so it may be a bit patchy to try and be his personal friend
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
Entirely touch starved and sometimes Miguel feels a bit embarrassed that he gets flustered by such gestures. Once he gets used to it, Miguel is a needy cuddle bug, refuses to let you go
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
The idea of having such a life seems unattainable to Miguel, but after the highs and lows, he comes around to it and sees the quiet moments as treasured memories
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
Oh if he had to, he’d chalk it up to some “save the world greater good” BS but it would be killing him inside
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
Oh he’s scared out of his mind!! Is this meant to be for him, too good to be true, or can he truly be happy? If he gets over his fears and accepts his feelings, Miguel is wasting no time with you
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
He tries to be, knowing how distant he is. It took a lot of patience, sometimes you or sometimes him, but he craves gentle now. It makes him slow down for once
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
Not a hugger person (at first), but he gets used to them over time. The first time you hugged him, he was stiff before slowly patting your back and then melting into it
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
Oh he wants to say it sooner than intended, but it takes an one man army to get over himself and his fears! But when he says it, his heart is racking through his chest like crazy
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
When does Miguel NOT get jealous? He knows you won’t leave him but still, he feels a bit “neglected” when affections aren’t always for him
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
Starts off slow, but his lips mold perfectly around yours
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
Given what’s canon, he’s apprehensive and hesitant because he doesn’t want something as beautiful as starting a family to slip away again
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
He’s horrible at mornings, moody and whiny and keeping you locked in his arms
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
Also moody but he has trouble sleeping and holding you soothes him until his eyes grow heavy
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
It’s slow, sometimes painfully slow, but being patient is a plus here because Miguel respects that about you and that you care for his space as well
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
Is that rhetorical?
If he’s ever “mad” at you, it’s mostly from a place of frustration and worry because he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
Considering he’s most likely seen other Earth versions of you, Miguel knows more about you than he lets on
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
He remembers your first mission together because it was the moment he realized you can take care of yourself, and that you are unstoppable together
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
Extremely protective! If you’re not buzzing or calling in for a report, he’s coming down there himself
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
He tries, bit by bit. And the more he does, the more you fall in love with him all over again.
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
Arrogance, withholding secrets from you, closed off from you and others
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
It’s canon Miguel is insecure by his claws and fangs so you staring at him in admiration and complimenting him is unfamiliar territory
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
Without a doubt 🥺🥹 even if he tries to deny it. Man’s is LONELY, he needs love
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
As he dates you more, he likes to open up more with some surprise dates but still keep it subtle between you two
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
Ironically he doesn’t like it when you hold secrets out on him
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)
Atrocious! You practically have to drag him away from his work panels to get him to sleep to which he collapses on top of you
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hausofneptune · 2 months
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THE VIRGO ARCHETYPE
﹕PLANETARY RULER: MERCURY
﹕ELEMENT: EARTH
﹕MODALITY: MUTABLE
﹕POLARITY: NOCTURNAL
﹕SYMBOL: THE MAIDEN
﹕BODY PART RULERSHIP: THE SPLEEN, LOWER STOMACH, DIGESTION SYSTEM, AND NERVOUS SYSTEM
﹕PLANETARY DIGNITIES: MERCURY IN VIRGO (DOMICILE/EXALTED), JUPITER IN VIRGO (DETRIMENT), VENUS IN VIRGO (FALL)
↝ the sign of virgo is best characterized by it’s particular and articulate nature. due to the mutable and earthy energy of the sign, it prioritizes the more meticulous challenges in their journeys over the ultimate end goal. people with prominent virgo placements are very adaptable, and are typically the type of people who find stimulation through working their way through problems. despite the stereotypes of virgo being the most “organized” sign of the zodiac, that’s not necessarily always the case. i feel like virgos are typically perceived as the types of people who will use labeled containers to organize everything in their homes from their cereal to their laundry detergent, and while virgo energy can manifest this way (raven elyse is a textbook example of this type of virgo), there are virgo placements who are the complete opposite, whose homes are more cluttered than minimal, but as long as it’s a functional system that works for them, that’s really all that matters.
↝ unlike the sign that comes prior to it, leo, virgo is a very reserved, and even at times private or shy sign. they can take on a similar energy in their professional lives, and could be drawn to careers that are more “behind the scenes” yet are just as, if not as important, as the front-facing aspects of certain fields (i.e. production, editing, songwriting, architects, etc). and because virgo is both domicile and exalted in mercury, they tend to excel in areas of communication and/or academia, even better than gemini in my personal opinion.
↝ despite their more “undercover” nature, virgos seek to feel appreciated and validated for the time and effort spent on their work, as well as the energy that they put into supporting their loved ones. similar to their opposing sign, pisces, virgo is a sign of service and show their love for others by helping them and prioritizing their needs, sometimes even at the expense of their own well-being. virgo may over-extend themselves at times, and can definitely struggle with being captain-save-a-hoe at times lmao. i feel like that is in part why people stereotype virgo placements as being “nit-picky” or overly judgmental at times, because virgo may focus too much on the potential that a loved one has rather than the actual person that they are, and in turn they fail to recognize that 1. that frame of mind can inadvertently make their loved ones feel like they’re not good enough, and 2. they cannot help or save people that do not want to be helped or saved. i say this as a virgo moon, hang that cape up bookie 🤍
↝ it is worth acknowledging that this critical nature that virgo exhibits towards others, is the same inner critic that they house within themselves. externally, virgos can perform in a way that can lead others to assuming they have everything together, when in reality, they may actually be suffering in silence, and this is where their detail-oriented nature can begin to work against them. due to their "perfectionist" outlook, virgo placements can hyper-fixate on everything that they perceive to be “wrong” with themselves, and over-exert themselves and work too hard as a result. this is another area of virgo’s archetype where they share a similarity with their opposing sign, pisces, in that they can be very self-deprecating at times. not necessarily in a “woe is me” kind of way (although it can manifest like that), but more so in a “constantly joking at their own expense” kind of way lmao.
↝ ultimately, virgos definitely need to work towards developing and maintaining patience, in relation to others but most importantly, towards themselves. it would benefit virgo placements to recognize the bigger picture in certain situations and let go of the binary, rigid way that they tend to perceive things more often than not. they would also benefit from keeping their own cup full before pouring into others, as well as instilling boundaries with others, as this is definitely a sign that can get taken advantage of due to their giving nature.
﹕VIRGO CELEBRITIES: 2 chainz, adam sandler, beyoncé, eazy e, florence welch, foxy brown, freddie mercury, idris elba, jungkook, justine skye, keanu reeves, keke palmer, kim namjoon (RM), kobe bryant, michael jackson, nas, paul walker, wiz khalifa, zendaya
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disclaimers | masterlist | ask
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EXTREMELY interested in The Cube AU- Very fun already! Do you have any other details you could share? Like- The Gang's relationship? Or even how the Stars' felt about being cubed? How did the council even manage to send them there? How do the Gang, Error, and the Stars feel about their... transformation? How did Nightmare get the mask and do any of the others have odd curiosities on them too?
grab your popcorn this got kinda long. i mean i could have made it longer but i kept some things too be included in separate posts.
The gang at first kinda hated each other. to Nightmare they where his henchmen. he says he only gathered them to aid in his spreading of negativity. though deep down he knows this isn't why but is constantly convincing himself of it. Too be honest Nightmare was lonely , but he is constantly self sabotaging his chances of ever actually forming any sort of relationship with... anyone tbh. he's afraid It takes awhile for him to realize he doesn't want too nor have too be the demon he was told he was. he was the only thing keeping himself from feeling happy. Horror only really stayed because of the food promised to horrortale. He didn't like Killer at all and Dust didn't really interact with the gang much outside of missions and fighting with killer. Horror did start to make friends with Cross though. Mainly because cross wasn't stab happy, and also didn't waste food, or skip meals like Dust and Nightmare after Horror had already made food for everyone. Dust like stated before would be constantly avoiding everyone when he could. he spent a lot of time in random places around castle that where hard to reach. and even harder to find. he mainly talked to "Paps" a lot. In this au paps is just a hallucination not an actual ghost. The main reason he is avoiding everyone could be that killer takes any chance to antagonize him. Killer is sort of stuck in the mental loop of always trying to gain more exp. Kind of ironic tbh. most of his emotions are dulled and Fighting gives a sort of rush that too him feel.. something. So he is constantly chasing it. Cross doesn't really know why he's there tbh. he's kind of lost. their relationship slowly shifts too found family but it is certainly a journey. -
The Stars felt betrayed more than anything. They had spent years defending and trying to make the multiverse a better place. Dream already has that small voice in his skull telling him it was because he had failed somehow. That he wasn't good enough. Blue is left wondering just why... WHY. Ink is... confused. he hadn't messed up THAT bad right? he wasn't a terrible person... right? In reality it was partially due too the fact The stars would have tried to shut down the Cube if they had Known more about it. As far as they where concerned it was just a high security prison. They didn't know about how it was designed to essentially be an elaborate form of torture. a world where everything was uncertain, your own body untrustworthy, and everything wants you dead. Dream was starting to get suspicious when he was denied seeing his brother. -
Nightmare's mask has something to do with another character I've made. A scientist who helped make the Cube named Jane. I don't think I'll explain all of that here but i will include it when i post her character. -
As for other oddities and transformations... I think it's time to talk about the mutations caused by the change from magic based to something more physical. The claws on the ends of Nightmare's tentacles are an example, as well as the much less goopy nature. Goop wouldn't stay together without magic after all. Though Nightmare's changes are a little less visually different than some of the other mutations. Mutations are for the most part very very random though.
for Killer: Killer had three fingered hands, and a venomous bite. The hatred that dripped from his sockets is technically just a poison now. His soul kinda got fused with his rib cage so it just looks like a sort of target shaped burn scar in a way. it do glow tho.
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here's a doodle of what his hands look like tho.
Dust was one of the more drastically changed individuals. it's possible his blaster attacks had somehow influenced his mutations so now he has a face like this:
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when his jaw is closed he can almost pass for completely unchanged. His voice has a strange chittering too it now. the buggyness was completely unconnected too the blaster jaw. but it is there. Dust wears a scarf a lot too hide it.
Cross os the only other one i have Mutations made for atm. He got floof. and ears. honestly this was just kind of for fun
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biiiiigg yawn.
he can 100% percent bite someones head off if he wanted too. I wasn't going for any sort of similarity too any animal in particular. but yea... floof... he poofs up if startled. anyways this was certainly a long answer huh :D i hope you enjoyed <3 if you want me too go in even more depth on any of these just ask and i will gladly do so.
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emmetofthestars · 2 months
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This carl. idk what to do with him . Car. for him changing his hat is like moving into a new shell like a hermit crab or Something. his helmet is cramped and old but he refuses to take it off for so long and whn he finally gets something new its almost scarily underwhelming how much it doesnt really affect him. like he puts it on and nothing happens i mean. of course it affects him but like its not like he dies or some other vague catastrophe happens. like everythings ok. and he spent all the time keeping to his shell too in pain to stay in it longer but too scared to dare for something new. fear over pain. "im in pain but if i try something new it could be even worse so its not worth changing the status quo because i dont know the outcome exactly and in full detail". you know? Car
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This ended up being rambly so i m posting it with my art and blu tag at Least
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kairiscorner · 9 months
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a request for you, if its okay!! you've been such an amazing writer and kind to others, its amazing!! ! again, IF its okay with you!! ! just friends to lovers with noir and an oblivious reader who gets flustered a lot by noir?? have a lovely day!!!
OH HI ANON :DDD ofc it's okay !! i love hearing y'all's requests, sorry i haven't been accepting them for a little while ! and i hope this is any good :'DD
(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)
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summary: you didn't understand just what this feeling meant, why you would freeze up and lose yourself when you were around him. it wasn't uncomfortable, but you didn't want to feel like you were going crazy over him.
word count: 1,109
oh the things this man does to you, you can't even begin to describe--because you never realized it was because of him, or that your feelings were anything but platonic for him. you were a very dear friend to peter benjamin parker, and he was a dear friend to you, too. you both knew each other from inside and out, knew each other's little habits, noticed little changes in each other's appearances, could tell what the other was thinking just by glancing at their face--you two were just the closest to each other.
he was always a sweetheart towards you, no matter how aloof he appeared to others. he always offered to carry your things for you, asked you how your day went, complimented you in outfits he'd never seen you in before, snapped photos of you when you let him because he's genuinely never seen anyone who looked as amazing as you do naturally. and you could say it's just butterflies in your stomach because of how intense his gaze towards you can be, but you swear you feel a little tingly when he looks at you like that, when he does things for you, butters you up just a little when in reality he truly does means it.
you couldn't tell why you felt so different around peter, like you were a lot more self-conscious before you'd meet up with him--fussing over such little details about your outfit, your hair, your everything. but that self-consciousness would met away when he'd smile at you and flatter you with praise about how lovely you looked that day. and then, you'd feel that familiar light, airy feeling; that feeling you get when all his attention is on you, when everything in the world slows down just a little to prolong the time you two have together.
this feeling drove you a little mad, it kept you up at night for days on end at times, with you asking yourself just what changed? what changed in you that you'd notice peter's dimples a lot more when he grinned? what changed in you that you felt a shiver up your spine when he'd accidentally put his hand over yours? what changed in you that you found yourself gazing at his lovely red lips when you two were face to face?
you tried convincing yourself you just missed him was all, but how could you miss him? you two met up every day before and after work as much as you could, you two spent every weekend together, for goodness' sake! it was more than just missing him, you... oh, you couldn't find the right word for it. you ended your nights with the bleak hope that this feeling that confused you so would leave you be the next morning. but alas, it worsened.
you'd wake up searching for him, and you realized, you've been dreaming about him. it got to the point where you stopped hanging out with peter before work, then it extended to not hanging out with him after work. during weekends, you excused yourself to him, saying you had errands to run, things to do. altogether, you two stopped hanging out for a week, all in the hopes that you wouldn't feel this way about him anymore. but you longed for him even more now that he wasn't with you.
neither of you could take it anymore, you had to tell him how you felt. it was a heavy weight on you to deal with these feelings alone, and despite how difficult it seemed, you had a feeling that telling him would lessen the burden. so you picked up the telephone one evening and called him, and immediately, you heard his voice on the other end. "hello--" "peter, i think i'm... i think i'm crazy about you." you confessed, leaving peter confused on the other end.
"doll, what do you mean?" he asked, perplexed, causing you to become even more frustrated. "look, even i don't know! i just know that, for a long time now, i've felt so... so weird about us." you explained in a soft voice as you twirled the cord of the telephone on your finger. "i find myself staring at your dimples when i catch you smiling, me freezing up when you accidentally touch my hand, and when you look into my eyes... i find my gaze going down to your lips. i've gone nights without sleeping because i always find myself thinking about you!" you admitted, feeling a ton of embarrassment rushing through your veins.
peter was silent on the other end for a little bit, when he realized you were finished, he chuckled a little. "are you saying you... feel the same way i do for you?" he asked with a slight crack in his voice, evidence of his flustered expression. your eyes went wide as he said that. "the same way you do for..." "yes, doll, the same was you do for me." he finished with a tone of embarrassment, similar to yours.
"i think i... i think i love you, doll. i've loved you for heaven knows how long." he said with an awkward slight chuckle. you felt incredibly flustered when you heard him say that word, that he loves you, that he's loved you for a long time now. "...i think i love you, too, peter." you replied bashfully, with a grin on your face that just grew the moment you heard him put down the phone on its side as he rejoiced in the background. "well... can we... go back to hanging out like before? it's just that, you know... we'd be on a date then?" he suggested, trying to sound cool, but ended up sounded so, so flustered.
"i'd love to, pete." you said, to which he rejoiced again away from the phone. "meet you tomorrow at the station at 6:30, i'll be there with a big bouquet of violets." he promised, and you giggled. "you called the poppies we saw on the way home from work last time violets." you reminded him, which caused him to blush from the tips of his ears down to his collarbone. "r-right... right, why not i get you a big bouquet of poppies? you're prettier than all of the flowers we've seen, though. i know you know it." he complimented you, which made you giggle a little. "stop it, pete..." "never. not when i have the sweetest lover in the whole world with me on the phone. brace yourself, love, you're gonna go another restless night thinking about me, because i know i'll be dreaming about you all over again."
tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @sabcandoit @binibinileonara @k4tsu3 @luvstarrstruck @connors-cumslurper @maxoloqy @fictarian
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tapioca-puddingg · 4 months
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Why GoWR Valhalla Is Important
Hey. It's me again. This time I'm not yelling about Kingdom Hearts or Drakengard, but I wanted to talk about God of War Ragnarök: Valhalla today and why I think it's important in trauma-centered narratives. This isn't a detailed analysis, just me spitballing.
SPOILER WARNING: There will be spoilers for God of War Ragnarök: Valhalla, so please proceed with caution!
EDITED: 2/26/24
As a brief summary, Kratos spent almost the entirety of GoW 2018 refusing to talk about his past. His guilt, shame, and trauma deeply affected his relationship with his son, to the point where he didn't want to be around Atreus bc he was terrified of being a bad influence on him. It was only when Atreus' life was in danger did it force him to finally admit just a sliver of the truth. Now I don't mean to say that Kratos revealing his godhood wasn't a big deal because it absolutely was, I'm just saying that it's just one piece of a MUCH bigger story. Anyway, he recognized his past mistakes, but the shame was too much for him to openly acknowledge it until damn near the end of the game.
Come Ragnarök, Kratos was pretty much an open book. He had grown SO much in those short years of fimbulwinter: He openly talked about his trauma to Mimir and Freya. He worked so hard to be a good father and a good support system to his friends. He went out of his way to make amends with Freya and restore their friendship. And he fought to restore peace to the Nine Realms.
But come Valhalla, Freya wants to recruit Kratos to be the new God of War of the nine realms, or at least to be a part of the new peacekeeping council that she's putting together. Kratos is extremely hesitant to take up the mantle. He doesn't feel worthy or deserving enough to hold this position given all that he's done. He and Mimir (and later on, Tyr) are constantly going back and forth about it. Both perspectives are completely valid. Valhalla is about Kratos facing his past in a more literal sense; parts of Greece have been manifested from Kratos' memories of it, so it's like he gets to be there in real time again. This is about helping him process what happened and to add some nuance to the conversation. It's like free therapy for Kratos.
It's funny too bc you have both opposing viewpoints being represented. On one hand, you have Mimir and Tyr being the supporting/validating voice, and Helios is the contrarian. Since he's a manifestation of Kratos' memories, he represents the doubts that Kratos has about himself. The harsh voice to show how hard he is on himself, and not without good reason.
The reason why I think Valhalla is so important is bc in media, survivor narratives are often linear. The character just "gets over" their trauma and then that trauma isn't addressed again. It's presented more as a hurdle than a lifelong battle. I guess this goes to show how misunderstood survivorhood is. But that isn't how healing works. We regress sometimes, and sometimes we still mull over the things that have happened to us. We might heal, but that trauma does leave emotional scars. So even after the many leaps and bounds Kratos has made, he's not "over" his past, far from it! It still haunts him every day and every night. Valhalla is Kratos still processing everything. From my own healing journey, I've learned that it takes a long, long time to fully process your trauma, if there even is a "fully", anyway. It takes a long time to learn and understand all the complexities and how it affects you in current day. And it takes even longer to process such a complicated history like Kratos'.
Generally speaking about the idea of processing trauma, I said earlier that survivorhood is extremely misunderstood by the masses. Imo, our society is very anti-victim/anti-survivor. So with that in mind, from the perspective of the audience, some might perceive the processing trauma bit as repetitive or "milking it". These are mediums of entertainment after all, so ofc I understand wanting to put out an engaging story where the audience doesn't lose interest. But screw those ppl lol. We have to understand why we do what we do if we want to do better, and it's amazing that a video game is willing to have these conversations. Being more open about all the nuances of processing trauma, grief, healing, etc will go such a long way.
Even the roguelite gameplay style perfectly reflects this theme. Processing this stuff is slow. It doesn't happen overnight. Unless you're in Valhalla, I suppose.
Okay I said this wasn't a detailed analysis but I lied. I'm a liar now
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bug-bites · 3 months
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west side apartment, paper plane
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tw: brief non-graphic mentions of ghost going thru war stuff and ghost's backstory in the comics (changed a few details because this is fanfic. duh), slight angst (bc yk,, yearning) but sort of fluff if ghost had a dollar for every moment he spent yearning he would have enough money to retire and live a happy life away from the military, also we're pretending british chinese takeout is good, not proofread :P
pairing: simon "ghost" riley x gn!reader (like always can be read as platonic or romantic)
characters: simon "ghost" riley
a/n: i hate how fucking massive the song link is but yk what its fine. but i am back and in a laufey moment!
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simon has lived an interesting life, maybe he wouldn’t use interesting. if he could describe it he would probably use words like terrifying, cruel, or for a lack of better terms, shitty. from the moment he was born it seemed like misery and tragedy followed him around like a stray dog, finding its way into every aspect of his existence. his childhood home was always something he wanted to escape, or rather his father was what he wanted to run away from. there were good moments after he kicked the old bastard out, but the ever present threat of tragedy proved that it wouldn’t last. life had been cruel, dealing him possibly the worst hand possible, the only constant being misfortune, that is until you came along.
a temporary living arrangement. thats all it was. rent was a little too much for one person to afford, so you both signed the lease on a crummy, small, mixed-use apartment right in the middle of manchester. it wasn’t much, takeout dinners from the restaurant below and late rent payments were the norm but even with the busted heating, life in that apartment had never felt so warm.
after long shifts at your respective jobs he would come home, plastic bags of takeout in his hands, a sign for you to set a few blankets on the ground before both of you eat ungodly amounts of shrimp fried rice and orange sesame chicken. he could spend hours listening to you speak, nothing made him feel so at home. maybe it was the fact that the food was good and also inexpensive, or maybe it was because he was too exhausted to do anything else, but he loved those long sleepless nights spent sitting on the floor, talking about everything and nothing. simon cant imagine another time in his life when he was genuinely so happy or another time he laughed so hard water came out his nose.
he especially loved opening fortune cookies with you at the end of every meal. sure, he never believed in those fortunes but the idea was always fun to entertain. the sound of the cookie cracking open to expose the slip of paper, revealing what the future had in store for him usually filled him with a childlike curiosity. or at least got a laugh out of him.
“hah, mine says ‘there will be a happy romance for you shortly’. these things really could not be farther from the truth. bet yours is more accurate” you say, popping half of the broken cookie into your mouth “your father loves you and is always with you. remember that.” he reads out loud with a chuckle “oh. that- hm. yeah i take that back”
but the one thing he loved more than opening those silly fortunes with you or the late night dinners was after you both cleaned up the empty takeout boxes, taking the menus and folding them into paper planes. it became a sort of tradition after you got bored and began to mess around with the glossy paper that listed mouthwatering dishes and house specials. he could never get it right, one wing was always too big or his folds were clumsily made and uneven, making them practically incapable of flight but yours were the complete opposite. each crease made was perfect, every intricate pleat skillfully crafted to allow the small paper aircraft to glide through the air with ease. as you tossed your planes off the balcony of your shared flat, the sight of the plane sailing through the air as the sun set always filled the both of you with a sense of nostalgia. and of course you both picked them up and tossed them out because we dont mess w/ littering over here
simon cant help but look back at those simpler times and miss them. he knows from the start it was intended to be temporary, but he’s been through so much chaos and trauma all he just wants a quiet life where he doesnt have to be ghost. he just wants a nice warm home to come back to. it doesnt have to be big, it doesnt have to be expensive, it just has to feel like home. it just has to feel like you. its been so long since the two of you parted ways but as he stares at the last paper airplane that he kept, he cant help but wonder if you feel that way too. as he lies awake in his bed at the military base he’s stationed in, he spends those nights craving that domesticity he had with you. he recalls every memory, every minute detail that made him love that cramped apartment and maybe how he loved you even more.
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alvivaarts · 7 months
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About Separate Ways (Spoilers)
Wow, guys. I was super excited to get gameplay footage/input from friends about Separate Ways (too broke to own the base game myself) to put into my longfic, but aside from some super cute Luis/Ada moments, I am... dissapointed.
Capcom hire me, at least I can keep the plot consistent because what the actual fuck.
Will discuss below to avoid spoilers (much more story than gameplay, but gameplay wasn't great either), but I'm not going into insane detail save for some things. READERS BE WARNED!
I'm also specifically looking at this through the lens of my own fanfic, Simulation Swarm, which is my take on how Las Plagas works and infected!Leon (in addition, infected!Ashley and a lot of Leon's unacknowledged trauma and relationship issues throughout the game series). I was majorly excited about Separate Ways because it implied that Ada also gets infected- which I really want to still implement even if it changes a LOT of major things about the fic.
I'll go over the good stuff first. AKA, stuff I'm keeping, and not retconning.
1- Luis' characterization was still amazing. It was really nice to see his character balance out Ada's, how he's still as chipper as he can be. Additionally, it's VERY clear how much he cares for Leon and Ashley alike, and he goes out of his way to get Ada the suppressant and still respects her throughout that process. 2- Pesanta/IT/U-3's design with slightly more of a scorpion shape. That was sick! 3- The fact that Ada was aware of most of Leon's movements and a lot of what happened, and in a way was following him around and handling things he couldn't/wasn't aware of. * 4- Ada didn't help Leon into the chair, Ashley did. But that scene isn't even shown. 5- Luis and Ada def had chemistry, and it was so cute!
Well! Short list. Now for the bad stuff. AKA, shit I'm retconning/ignoring/pretending never happened (most of the DLC).
1- Ada's infection is weird as fuck. She got... shot? And infected? And then, infuriatingly (because I've spent WAY too much time thinking about the physiology of Las Plagas and researching w/ the help of others how the infection would work) PUKES UP her plagas?!?!? HELLO!? This in particular drives me insane because like. Las Plagas nests and develops behind the sternum, between the lungs, where it can attach to the nervous system along the spine. It is TOO BIG for a human body to fight against, it's growth shoving lungs out of the way is why people cough up blood. It's nowhere near the throat or stomach and clearly it's extremely well engineered/evolved for human hosts not to end up in conveniently the wrong location. And if she did puke it up, at that point, miraculously, after two days? Her intestines are fucked. She's dying of internal bleeding. I don't fucking care how much of a bad bitch Ada is because at that point Wesker wasn't gonna help her. The fuck? Capcom, know your own lore challenge. 2- We got NO backstory, not even HINTS about Ada's past and origins. Again. 3- * Seriously made Ada's character into a very flat character and removed a lot of the urgency/clear want for her to help Leon from the original DLC. Seriously, she does not gaf about anything but her mission and making it more convenient for herself. Everything she does to help Leon is sheerly coincedence- which, honest to fuck, does not line up. Especially considering she appears to completely lack empathy until... uh oh, Wesker wants to kill a bunch of people? Like sure, she has that BRIEF conversation with Leon in the boat but like... what happened to the people she has history with, the people she could've ABSOLUTELY been saving to spite Wesker and allow her to have her own motives until whoop-de-doo, uh oh, gotta stop a genocide! Be so for real. 4- Bonus: After Luis helped her and she'd made the deal to get him out, he, still dying, calls her with a warning about Krauser. It took a long time for him to die. She SHOWED UP after witnessing the fight and pretty much just... left him. Despite all of that. Which I get from a 'not fucking with canon' standpoint, but seriously. 0 effort. 5- Krauser literally fucking gets away when she fights him???? 6- Wesker keeps making appearances. For some reason. It's not even clear why, he literally just shows up to be intimidating and to threaten Ada into doing the job but like. At that point, honest to fuck, he could've done it himself? Also it was majorly hard to empathize with Ada considering we STILL KNOW NOTHING ABOUT HER OR HER MOTIVATIONS. 7- Luis has no distinct fire trauma. (Okay. Revoking this after the discussion, I just had a no media literacy moment after everything I was taking in. Luis' response was actually pretty good and honestly? Should be appreciated. Though it does bring up another point- while I love Luis, I guess I was walking in with it more being an expectation for it to be 'Ada's Story'. We didn't get that, though the Luis background was great!) 8- Ashley's interaction with Ada was a single line asking for help and Ada just. Walks off.
Anyway, everything I've seen first hand and have discussed with others has left a sour taste in my mouth. Boo, @Capcom. Good thing I can make up my own stupid little stories and pretend that none of that happened.
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