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envy-of-the-apple · 3 months

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Dark!Naga!Gojo Satoru x reader x Dark!Naga!Geto Suguru

Top of the Food Chain

I've always wanted to continue my naga!mha fic but considering i dont write for deku+co anymore, i decided to move my au a couple fandoms over:D 1.8k wc

Part two

(Warnings: animal deaths, blood, obsession, dark content, slight gun threat but not rlly, polyamory, gender ambigious!reader)

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Despite being here for nearly a week, you still don't think Satoru understood how delicate you are.

He's overbearing, in that sense. Constantly poking and prodding and squeezing until your lungs give and you're forced to squeak. You can't blame him for not understanding. He's an animal, after all. Inhuman. Despite his skin and hair, the scales coating his tail give away just how different he is. He was probably born fighting, kicking, and screeching his way through the foliage, hunting, chewing, and biting.

He's not like you when all you knew when you were younger was coddling and softness. You can see it in his scars, and bruises, and marks.

Luckily, for you, Suguru had an inkling that you weren't made for sharp claws.

It's not a fight, you can tell when they're fighting, it's more like a warning? A minor disagreement. Suguru hisses at the other naga, scrunching up his face, showing his teeth. Satoru is quick to respond, but a little more playful. Fortunately for you, the black-haired male seems to win the argument. Satoru's coils loosen around you. Air stops fighting its way to get into your lungs.

You finally go lax in his hold. Satoru seems to enjoy that, dipping his head to bury his face into the base of his neck. The first few times he did that, you were afraid he was trying to bite off your jugular. Now, you think it's just another way he can soak up your body heat.

Maybe you've been here for longer than a week. At this point, you couldn't really tell. Hope that you'd be found was starting to slowly fizzle away. The explosion had been massive. The ship had sunk in a matter of minutes. With a disaster that huge, you doubt anyone would still be looking for survivors. Especially on an uncharted island, where myth had turned into reality.

Satoru had been the one you'd woken up to. Washed ashore, barely conscious. You were half-certain he was planning on eating you with the way he held your leg, watching your muscles bend and turn. In his defense, he must have thought you were dead. Your shrill scream quickly convinced him otherwise.

It was barely a fight. More or less, a pathetic kidnapping as he grabbed your body, slinging it over his shoulder. You've never remembered screaming and crying so loudly before, convinced you were about to be eaten. Suguru probably heard you before he saw you.

Satoru's mate was a little less impressed with you. Back then, they didn't bother learning your tongue, speaking in hisses and snarls, unaware of your misery. Suguru's frown was glued on his face, but the naga never let you run away, always keeping a hand or a tail on you at all times. It was a rough first day; you didn't know they weren't interested in eating you until they tried to feed you.

Things were much different back then Nowadays, they are a lot more considerate of yourself and your soft body. You think you've come to an understanding with these strange creatures.

Suguru was the nicest out of the two. In that, you mean the least rough. Compared to his counterpart, he's a bit smaller, but that's not saying there's any real difference. If it comes down to it, you are more than certain he'd be able to kill you off as quickly as his mate. You thought he hated you, at first. Now, you think he has a hard time showing blatant affection. His touches typically come in the dead of night, when you're barely conscious. A clawed finger gently raking over your soft skin. Large hands sculpting your face.

Satoru's eyes were the first thing you noticed about him. Glittering like blue sapphires. You had a feeling they weren't just for show. Time and time again he's proven that he can see better than Suguru could. He smiles a lot more, but you're starting to wonder if that expression translates across species. He can speak your tongue slightly better than Suguru could. It most likely has to do with his insistence on staying with you. The more time you spend with him, the more you have to say 'No' 'Don't touch there' 'Stop'.

In the rare times you manage to escape their hold, you like watching them interact with each other. They often sunbathe for hours, lazing around hot rocks to soak in the heat. They like touching each other. Sometimes it's aggressive, like when Satoru chomps on Suguru's neck and you're suddenly much more aware of how careful he is with you. Other times it's: soft, unintentional, meaningless. Languid cuddling when you are finally able to braid Suguru's hair.

At this point, you've surmised they won't eat you. At least, not for the moment. You don't exactly know what they think of you. Do they have the concept of pets in their worldview? Maybe that's the closest thing you can place yourself as, at least in their eyes. They must think you're helpless. To them, you have no claws, no fangs, no venom. They probably don't know you come from a species that's hunted others to extinction and currently burning down the planet. You must be the first time they've ever seen your kind, stripped away from your weapons, when you're the least dangerous.

"You should be more scared of me, you know," you once whispered to Suguru in the dead of night.

He was dozing off, blearily keeping his eyes open to stare at your moving lips. There was a grunt behind you, and Satoru tightened his arms across your waist. Greedy for affection, even in his sleep.

"Humans are terrifying," you said, reaching out to touch, "top of the food chain."

Suguru had smiled at that. You found yourself smiling back.

"You're lucky I didn't have a gun on me. You probably don't even know what that is." It's dark humor to press two fingers into his forehead. Your way of coping maybe.

Or perhaps your actions prove that humans will always desire to be violent, no matter how perilous their fight may be.

"Bang." He leans into your touch, unafraid. Oblivious to the threat that you are.

You're guessing Satoru only let you go because of the food Suguru brought.

You're able to feel the ground again as he glides over to Suguru having just come back from a successful hunt. The carcass of the largest deer you've ever seen is slung across his back. The smell of blood already makes you nauseous.

You think Suguru had been the most panicked when you refused to eat, clicking and cooing while he tried to force-feed you the bloody leg of a bear. Back then, your communication was even worse than it was now. You were smeared in crimson by the time he relented. Practically dripping in it.

Now, Suguru knows you have different tastes than them. You're not a big fan of raw. The fish and the handful of berries are more than enough to sate you as you gather the items he's given in your hands.

"Thank you," you say. You reach out, touching his face with warm fingers. He purrs into your touch. You smile. It's the least gratitude you can give him. After all, he's not asking for much. If they hadn't found you, you would have been dead long ago, or at least, significantly less weaker. It's the least you can do.

For a moment, you delude yourself into thinking they were your pets. It'd certainly be easy too. They have little to no regard for personal boundaries, much like dogs. They're more animalistic than they are human.

It's funny to think of these monsters as lovable pets.

"Thank you," Suguru repeats. You giggle. It's not like they actually understand you. It's simple mimicry. Like talking to a parrot.

"Thank you!" Satoru chirps, never one to be left out. He pushes his mate out of the way, eager for your pets as well. Suguru hisses, but doesn't argue. You've learned they like to be scratched right there on the bottoms of their chins.

Suguru's less obvious, but Satoru has no desire to pretend. He melts into you, practically slumping his weight into your weak hold. It's a little adorable actually. You give a little laugh. He seems even more pleased at that.

They're fun to be around, but this can't last. You belong with other humans, far far away from this island. So far, you hadn't seen any boats in the horizon, but you hope one would come by soon. A plane would be even better. Close enough to give you hope. Maybe if you built a big enough fire, it'd reach someone eye.

Hopefully, in just a few weeks, these creatures will be a very cherished memory.

You frown when Satoru reaches over to grasp at your food, the meat specifically. You glare, moving away from his hold. He titters in clear disappointment. You hate seeing him sad but you already have so few food sources. It's best to conserve whatever you get.

"No," you pointedly tell him, "It's mine. Mine."

His frown deepens, and he opens his jaws to let his fangs pop out.

"Mine," you repeat.

He leans back, huffing. You laugh because you know his expression is more out of frustration than any actual anger. Again, animals. You pet his head in apology, before turning away. You'd have to start a tiny fire to start cooking. Raw fish is edible, but it's hardly desirable.

A hand grabs yours, clawed, the grip is tight around your frail skin. When you look back, Satoru is staring at you. Eyes wide. Eager.

"Mine," he says, but it's more like he's testing the word. Tasting it on his lips.

You scoff, unamused. "That's my arm. Not yours."

Satoru smiles. Sharp teeth. You suddenly remember he's a carnivore.

He's slow when he draws you in, practically dragging you into his arms. You're used to his spontaneous hugs, tight and suffocating. You can't fight him off, so you typically wait until Suguru has enough of his behavior and drags him off you.

"Mine," Satoru repeats. Alarm bells ring in your head but it's easy to brush them off. It's mimicry. They can't understand. It's like talking to a parrot.

You feel the weight of the other naga at your back. His arms wrap around your waist, pushing you against Satoru's chest. You stiffen when Suguru's fangs lightly graze up your neck. Never quite punctures, but is terrifyingly close.

"Mine," Suguru says into your skin.

You laugh again, but it comes out less hesitant. More airy. Amid their hold, a sudden thought comes to you.

If you weren't at the top of the food chain anymore, then who was?

#yandere #dark content #yandere jjk #non con touching #yandere gojo satoru #yandere geto suguru #dark gojo satoru #dark geto suguru #naga au #naga gojo satoru #naga geto suguru #animal death #language barriers #polygamous relationship #Top of the Food Chain

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wheneclipsefalls · 2 months

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Little Gift- Scramble

Pairing: Adult Dark Neteyam x Human Fem Reader

Previous Part

Masterlist AO3

Gorgeous Adult Neteyam pic by @cinetrix2

Summary: It's time for you to understand the gravity of your situation.

Warnings: dubcon/non con, dark material read at your own risk MDNI, oral, explicit, alien x human, kidnapping, aged up Neteyam, aged up Lo'ak, slight degradation, angst, bondage, etc. (not exhaustive)

A/N: Can't thank you all enough for the support and buzz that this little series has gotten! Love you, pookies<3 Enjoy!

“Don’t look down. Don’t look down.” You whisper shakily.

Heights have never been your forte and neither has climbing but you are mere feet away from reaching where Neteyam has tied the knot to your leash. You can’t give up now. Your legs tremble and arms shake as you clamp around the tree trunk.

It’s ok. Everything is ok. Worst case scenario you fall down and land back in the kelku.

That is, if you fall to the right.

The left on the other hand…

You make the mistake of glancing down to see the vast distance between you and the forest floor. It doesn’t help that the thick forest canopy obscures your vision, letting your imagination run wild in guessing how far down the ground really is. You rest your forehead against the trunk and shut your eyes.

Breath in.

Breathe out.

One move at a time. That’s all that matters.

Finally wrangling the courage to climb further once more you carefully reach for the next branch and scoot yourself upwards. The thick bark scuffs your smooth skin and your hands are sure to already have blisters and slivers, but you are so close.

“Out of curiosity, if you somehow do manage to get that thing untied. What is your next move?”

You gasp, branch almost slipping from your grip in wake of being startled.

“You’ve been alone for what? Thirty minutes? And you still haven’t made it up a few meters. How do you expect to scale down several stories before Neteyam returns?” Lo’ak crosses his arms, hip popped and eyebrows raised.

“I…I was just…”

“No need to waste my time trying to suggest otherwise. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Neteyam did say you are quite the handful.” He sprawls across the kelku floor, arms folded back to keep him sitting upright while his legs spread leisurely. “Lucky me.”

“You…you are staying?” You voice quivers as a cramp starts to tighten one calf. This idea is looking more ridiculous by the second.

“Neteyam is convinced you need someone to check up on you while he is away. Hate to admit when he is right but then again here you are swinging over death in under an hour.”

Your arms begin to shake as every muscle locks frozen in place. Lo’ak lounges as your head spins in every which direction.

Instinct takes over before you can stop it and suddenly you are racing to reach for the next branch. Body practically flinging itself upwards, your ascent is messy and frantic. Your adrenaline is powered by one fact: you are running out of time. The RDA return home within a few days and Neteyam seldom leaves you alone.

So what if he sends his little brother to play babysitter?

It’s better odds than being smothered in the Olo’eyktan’s embrace all day.

A small branch snaps beneath your right foot. Stomach lurching to your throat you prepare for the massive fall ahead. You catch only a few feet of air before crashing into a hard chest. Lo’ak chuckles at your shrieks as he tucks you under his arm and easily scales down the tree.

He may have saved your life but you shoot him with a scathing look as he sets you down on the the woven floor.

“You’re welcome.” He snorts, returning to his lounged position.

The irony taste of blood erupts over your tongue when your teeth finally break skin.

You want to hate him. You do hate him. He laughs and watches your nightmare with a half amused grin ,but you need to be smart.

“Thank you.” You whisper. He simply shrugs and waves it off. “I’ve just been so scared.” This time you purposefully bite your bottom lip, looking up at him through thick lashes. It’s easy to let tears create a cloud over your eyes. “I want to go home.”

His reaction is far from the one you hope.

A harsh laugh rumbles in his chest as he shakes his head.

“Oh yes it must be so hard to be away from those comforting steel walls and mushy frozen meals.” He scoffs as if it is the most ridiculous thing he has ever heard. It hurts and for some reason you feel the need to defend your desires.

“I wasn’t talking about Bridgehead, asshole! Or have you forgotten they are returning to Earth within the week?”

“Cause that is so much better.” Lo’ak sneers.

“You don’t know what you are talking about-”

“No you don’t know what you are talking about. What do you think is back on that dying planet? Maybe they’ve shown you some shiny pictures back in your steel cage but the reveal is deeply disappointing.” He rolls his eyes, hands reaching back to tie his hair.

“How would you know? You’ve never been!”

“Yes and neither have you but unlike you I have reliable witnesses.”

Your nails create half moons in your palm as they ball into fists. The heat from your cheeks has now traveled to the tips of your ears. Screw the size difference, you are ready to knock him on his ass.

You can’t though and not just because your strength is no match for his own. Getting riled up by your captor’s brother is a waste of time and Neteyam never said when he would be back. Forcing your features to soften you left out a shaky sigh.

“I don’t need you to understand but…what would it hurt to help me? You could tell him you found the kelku empty. That’s all I’m asking.” You shuffle onto your knees, swallowing your pride as you prepare to beg.

“What would it hurt? A lot actually. Every minute he spends with you is another that I get him off my ass. Besides, when Neteyam isn’t happy no one is happy.”

“He is Olo’eyktan! Half of the women in your village must be chasing him down. His fascination with me is sure to be replaced by another within the week.” You argue, fidgeting with the pink ribbon Neteyam had tied around your neck. The knot of the bow is extra tight this time, no doubt a ploy to get you to stop ripping it off.

“Oh yes, six months of obsession gone in a week.”

Your mouth runs dry.

“Six months?”

For the first time Lo’ak’s interest is peaked. His tail stills and large ears fold forward.

“Oh, you have no idea what you have gotten yourself into, do you?” He shakes his head, tongue clicking softly. “You poor thing,” he says but the words are anything but sympathetic.

“Six months, how…. But I didn’t even….”

“Did you think that the RDA picked you from a lineup and Neteyam just happily handed over that unobtanium?”

It sounds ridiculous coming from Lo’ak’s mouth now but what else were you meant to believe? You’ve never met Neteyam before. The entire situation has bizarre written all over it. What is one more offbeat detail?

“He’s been talking about you for months, tawtute. Been driving me crazy actually.”

Unease sinks its claws into you.

“From what I understand, he had your schedule down. Those little nature walks you take daily just outside the base? Did you really think a defenseless human like you would have survived Pandora’s forest for that long without a protector?”

“He’s been watching me.” The thought slips from your lips without permission but Lo’ak nods anyways.

The past few months replay in your mind’s eyes. All those times you had been ecstatic to have some time alone in the fresh air. Every little conversation you had with yourself as you walked, running through checklists and even giving yourself reassuring words after a hard day. How many of those times had he been there?

Oh God, all those times the heat had been too much and you had gone skinny dipping!

Was that time ever sacred? Had he truly been watching from the sidelines this whole time with you none the wiser? And yet, that is the scariest realization.

You had no idea.

It brings into focus the horrible juxtaposition between you two.

He had watched you through the greenery easily while you had not a single inkling of being in another’s presence. And if Lo’ak’s words are anything to go off of, you too had been oblivious as he kept other predators at bay.

No wonder he talks to you like a naive child.

Your lungs seize, squeezing the air from them until it’s difficult to breathe. For a moment you look around for your mask, panicked as you assume that the serum for the day has somehow run out early. However one shaky breath in shows that this has nothing to do with carbon dioxide levels and everything to do with the panic that holds you hostage.

Six months.

Six months!

What had he seen? Was it only your walks through the forest or had there been more? How did you spark his interest in the first place? Among hundreds of soldiers and scientists you had never stood out as anyone extraordinary. Having been born on this planet has put you in the strained position of having little to no role, and yet you’ve somehow drawn the attention of the one person that has the power to turn your life inside out.

How much does he know about you?

Lo’ak clears his throat, snapping you out of your spiral.

“You’re not going to faint are you? Cause I really don’t want to be blamed for that one.”

Sweat beads at your temple and your body trembles as your knees tuck to your chin. You can’t necessarily blame Lo’ak for being concerned, not when your entire world is spinning around you.

“Look, I’m going to give you some advice simply because you look like you need it.” He says, propping one knee up. “Stop fighting it. Forget about that hell hole you lived in. Forget about that damned planet and take advantage of what you have here. Save yourself some time and start listening to my brother. If you’re waiting for him to give out, you’ll be waiting forever.”

You don’t answer. There are too many things to say. Too many things to turn over in your head, enough to bloom a pounding headache.

Horns sound through the forest, followed by distant Na’vi calls in response.

Neteyam’s back.

Lo’ak gently pats your leg like you’re old friends. “Good talk.” He says before standing up. You stop him before he leaves though.

“Wait you….you aren’t going to tell him though, right? About…earlier?”

A wide grin spreads across his face.

“Neteyam’s right, you are adorable.”

And with that, Lo’ak is gone.

“I’m sorry!” You whine, legs shaking over Neteyam’s shoulders.

Pleasure shoots through you like lightning but as orgasm after orgasm is pulled from your weeping pussy, his flicking tongue brings a sharp edge. You’ve lost count at this point of how many times your climax has spread over his smirking lips. If this continues any longer you are sure your body will give out.

“Hold still.” He firmly rasps against your clit.

Although those muscular arms are wrapped around your thighs, you know he could hold them tighter. But instead Neteyam gives just enough space for you to wiggle and squirm desperately. It’s clear he enjoys the struggle.

“No more!” You screech, roughly pushing at the top of his head. He doesn’t so much as flinch. Instead, his tongue travels down to gently tease at your opening. When it pushes inside of your clenching pussy the stretch is enough to make you gasp. It’s not the first time and you know it won’t be the last but over the past few days he has at least let you catch a reprieve between rounds.

He pulls back, catching his breath with a dopey grin.

“So sweet, little gift.” He wastes no time in diving back in, but there is little that can be done about it as you are pushed up against the wall and sat on his shoulders. Your fingers tangle into his braids, holding on for dear life. Nine feet suddenly feels so much higher than you remember.

He attacks your overstimulated cunt ferociously, giving no heed to your shaking body or wild pleas. His mouth opens to encompass your entire pussy, lips creating a seal around the area as he sucks harshly. It’s beyond anything you have ever experienced with human men and there are no resources in your arsenal to prepare you for the intense feeling.

“I can’t I can’t IcanticantIcant.” The words flow from your lips into a tangled mess and Neteyam’s tongue juts out to tap that bundle of nerves rapidly. The sound that comes from you is one you do not recognize. His ears perk up in response, tail lashing back and forth.

If anything your sounds egg him on, tongue thrashing desperately and massaging every crevice of sensitive area between your folds. The heat is so much that you feel as if your body will ricket apart into pieces and yet the desire never wains. Although the sensory overload is painful, you can’t stop your hips from thrusting back against his soaked lips.

Delight dances in his wide golden orbs as he sneaks a glance up at you.

You shut them tight in response.

It’s the way he looks at you that feels more intimate than anything else.

Even more personal than the hands that explore your body freely or the toned Na’vi form that presses you into the hammock at night.

His gaze is also the one thing you can semi avoid, at least for now.

When his nails reach back to dig into your plush cheeks and his tongue enters you once more another climax rockets through you. Neteyam’s flat nose nudges at your clit fiercely while he continues to stretch you out. The pain and pleasure bleed into one another but all you know is that it’s overwhelming.

Blood pounding so hard at your ears you barely make out those pathetic sounds coming from your lips.

Neteyam doesn’t stop until you are yanking at his hair and tears stream down your cheeks.

He leans back to admire his handy work, chin shimmering with your sweet juices. Thumb gently sliding down your puffy lips he hums in satisfaction. You’re absolutely debauched. You know that. There is no need to look down in order to know that between your thighs is a sticky mess.

“That will do, I think.” He murmurs and your head leans back against the wall to catch your breath.

Relief is cut short however when you are suddenly slid down his body and manhandled to have your legs wrapped around his narrow waist. He smiles at your little shriek and the way you cling to his shoulders.

“Mawey, tiyawn.”

“Teyam, I’m tired.”

“I know, but a good pet takes her punishment first.”

Your heart lurches.

“But I thought-”

The words morph into a gasp when one long finger probes at your entrance. Collecting the leaking slick and cum there, Neteyam uses that to glide into your still overstimulated pussy. Bucking to get out or range only causes you to hit the kelku post and incidentally sink that finger in deeper. You cry out at the stretch, even with the preparation it feels like so much more than you could imagine one finger to be.

“That’s it, little gift. Just relax. Take it all.” And by some insane miracle you manage to take him down to the last knuckle.

“I was planning on letting you adjust to just my tongue for a while but after this morning’s…events, I think we need to quicken your training. Don’t you think, pet?”

Nothing but a silent scream comes from your parted lips. And you most definitely fail to give a response when that digit curls to find its target easily. Neteyam doesn’t seem to mind.

“Although, I admit I am partly to blame. I should’ve known better than to leave you alone. Should’ve known my little gift would miss me.” He purrs, craning his neck down to run his nose along your shoulder and throat.

That slippery digit pulls out but only to have the tip of another join it at your entrance. On instinct you brace yourself but Netyeam whispers sweet nothings into your ear, promising a reward if you just relax for him. Before you know it he is using both to scissor you open.

“It's a learning process for both of us.” Neteyam casually sighs, as if he doesn’t have two fingers tearing you apart from inside as your brain cells fry to ash. At this point he may as well be talking to himself.

His tail slinks around your waist as he adds a third finger slowly.

“But don’t worry, pet.” They massage at your sweet spot sinfully until you are shaking like a leaf. “I’d never give up on you.” And those are surely the scariest words Neteyam has ever said and yet their full magnitude can’t hit you now with the state you’re in.

He kisses your cheek softly before starting a steady pace in and out of your tight pussy.

“T-tey tey ah Teyam.” You stutter out, not sure how or what you are asking for but feeling like you need to at least try.

“Mawey, pet.” He says simply, eyes trained on where his slick fingers disappear into your heat.

The stretch and pleasure coalesce together along with your trembling nerves until you can not differentiate clearly between the various sensations. Your cheeks are wet with tears and eyes staring in a daze up at him as little whimpers rise occasionally.

“Fuck, this tiny pussy is squeezing my fingers so well.”

You collapse against him, cheek pressed against his collarbone as he continues to hold your weight with one arm.

“Stay awake, oeyӓ tiyawn.”

You hardly listen as you’re carried to the hammock and laid down. Painfully slow, his fingers dip from your tight cunt and your body sags at the loss.

“Almost done.”

That catches your attention, intuition sparking as you lazily watch Neteyam riffle through a bag.

“Got something special for your training. To start it at least.”

The plastic strange object looks small in his big hands but when he brings it to rest on your stomach the size makes your eyes bulge.

You’re wide awake now.

“Neteyam no, please! I don’t think I can I-I”

“It’s just a small one, little gift. Have to get you stretched out somehow if you ever hope to take me.” He smirks, squeezing your right thigh for comfort.

“No no but I-I can’t because….because I-I…..I’ve never used toys before.” The lie is a knee jerk reaction and one not elegantly delivered.

It earns you a dark look, the Olo’eyktan’s lips turning downward. Suddenly your face is caught in his hand, cheeks squishing beneath his fingers.

“Oh really? And what would you call that pink toy you love so much?”

Oh God. When did he see that?

How did he see that?

How much of your life has been observed by this man?

“I don’t appreciate being lied to. I also don’t appreciate coming home to have my brother tell me my tiyawn almost killed herself falling out of a tree today. Or seeing how your misbehavior has marked up my property.” He gestures to the scuffs and scrapes along your inner thighs. “Should we really be adding another infraction to the list today?”

Your head is shaking before he even finishes.

“I didn’t think so.” He sighs. “Now be a good girl and spread those pretty legs.” You obey as he pulls you to the edge of the hammock, legs dangling over the side.

With some time and patience the toy slowly slips inside of you inch by inch. In some ways it's smaller than Neteyam’s three fingers but it’s also plastic and cold. Not nearly as pleasurable as his warmth.

“There we go.” He praises once it is seated all the way inside. “So pretty.” He kisses right over your filled pussy and you shiver.

Settling into bed is more difficult than usual. It’s expected to have his larger body completely wrapped around you, making sure there is no room for escape but now every time you squirm to get comfortable the toy shifts inside of you.

“Stop moving, tiyawn. It’s been a long day.” He throws one leg over your hips for good measure. “Be a good girl and I’ll let you sleep with it off.”

Off?

You crane your neck to face him and see that there is a tiny remote grasped between his fingers. Your eyes widen, movements ceasing immediately. Neteyam smiles into your hair whispering sweet nothings until his voice starts to become lazy with sleep.

Eventually his breaths deepen while you pout silently in the dark. The toy is pressing at that bundle of nerves again but when you shuffle slightly the Olo’eyktan lets out a deep groan and pulls you flush against him.

More to come! If you enjoyed please don't be afraid to comment, reblog, or even send an anonymous ask with your thoughts. Feedback truly means the world to me and motivates me to keep writing and updating.

More of Little Gift to come;)

Taglist: @pandoraslxna @neteyamssyulang @tallulah477 @criticallybella @sullybrothersmate @lilghostiequinni @chershire23 @lala-1516 @teyamshuman @yawnetu @puddle-nerd @ratchetprime211 @avatargirly @chocolatechocobo91 @kariz-stark @bunnscoffe @avatarwifey @universal-s1ut @witchsprit @heart-an0n @riri-is-a-girlie @rivatar @minnory @ikeyniofthetayrangi @ilovehobi101 @spicymayyo @v4mp1rr3 @nilsavatar @bambithewriter @quicktosimp @itchaboi-itchyboy

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anim-ttrpgs · 29 days

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Help Save the World of TTRPGs and Their Creators.

Okay I’m being a little dramatic, but at the same time I’m pretty serious. This is a call to action, and the livelihoods of myself and lots of other people, many of them (like myself) disabled, are depending on it. This is a post about why, what you can do about it, and (perhaps least often answered) how.

This post is actually an accompaniment to another discussion by someone else. If you don’t want to listen to a 90-minute in-depth discussion of much of what I’m about to tell you, you can just keep reading. Otherwise, click here or here and listen to this either before or after you read this post. (They’re the same thing, just different sources.)

If you have ever made or reblogged posts urging people to switch from Google Chrome to Firefox, you should be willing to at least give a try to other TTRPGs besides D&D5e for much the same principle reasons. I’m not telling you you have to hate D&D5e, and I’m not telling you you have to quit D&D5e, I’m just asking you to try some other games. If you don’t like them, and you really want to go back to D&D5e, then go back to D&D5e. But how can you really know you won’t like other games if you have literally never tried them? This post is a post about why and how to try them. If you’re thinking right now that you don’t want to try them, I urge you to look below to see if any of your reasons for not wanting to try them are covered there. Because the monopoly that WotC’s D&D5e has on TTRPGs as a whole is bad for me as a game designer, and it’s bad for you as a game player. It’s even bad for you if you like D&D5e. A fuller discussion of the why and how this is the case can be found in the links above, but it isn’t fully necessary for understanding this post, it’ll just give you a better perspective on it.

If you’re a D&D5e player, I’m sure at some point or another, you’ve been told “play a different game”, and it must get frustrating without the context of why and how. This post is here to give you the why and how.

[The following paragraph has been edited because the original wording made it sound like we think all weird TTRPGs suck.]

Before that though, one more thing to get out of the way. I'm going to level with you. There’s a lot of weird games out there.

You are gonna see a lot of weird TTRPGs when you take the plunge. Many of them try to completely reinvent what a TTRPG even is, and some fail spectacularly, others really do even up doing something very interesting even if they don't end up being what a core TTRPG player wants. But not every indie RPG is a Bladefish, lots and lots of them are more 'traditional' and will feel very familiar to you, I promise. (And you might even find that you like the weird experimental bladefish type ones, these are usually ideal for one-session plays when your usual group can't play your usual game for any reason.)

You're also going to probably see a lot of very bad games, and man have I got some stories of very bad games, but for now I'm just saying to make sure you read the reviews, or go through curators (several of which will be listed below), before you buy.

Now that that is out of the way, I’m going to go down a list of concerns you may have for why not, and then explain the how.

“I don’t want to learn a whole new set of rules after I already spent so much time learning D&D5e.”

Learning a new set of rules is not going to be as hard as you think. Most other TTRPGs aren’t like that. D&D5e is far on the high end of the scale for TTRPGs being hard and time-consuming to learn and play. If you’ve only played D&D5e, it might trick you into thinking that learning any TTRPG is an overwhelmingly time-consuming task, but this is really mostly a D&D5e problem, not a TTRPG problem as a whole.

“D&D5e has all of these extra online tools to help you play it.”

So what? People have been playing TTRPGs without the help of computers for 50 years. To play a well-designed TTRPG you won’t need a computer. Yes, even if you're bad at math. There are some TTRPGs out there that barely even use math.

“I’m too invested in the narrative and characters of my group’s current ongoing D&D5e campaign to switch to something else.”

There are other games, with better design made by better people for less money, that are the same kind of game as D&D5e, that your current characters, lore, and plot will fit right into and do it better. And no, it's not just Pathfinder, there's others.

“I can’t afford to play another TTRPG.”

You probably can. If you’ve only played D&D5e, you might have been made to think that TTRPGs are a very expensive hobby. They aren’t. D&D5e is actually uniquely expensive, costing more than 3x more than the next most expensive TTRPG I can think of right now. Even on the more expensive end, other TTRPG books will cost you no more than $60, most will cost you less than $20, and a whole lot of them are just free. If you somehow still can’t afford another TTRPG, come to the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book club mentioned below, nominate the game, and if it wins the vote we will straight up buy it for you.

(By the way, if you had any of the above concerns about trying other games besides D&D5e, that really makes it sound like you are in a textbook abusive relationship with D&D5e. This is how abusers control their partners, and how empires control their citizens, by teaching you to think that nothing could ever get any better, and even though they treat you bad, the Other will treat you even worse.)

“If I don’t play D&D5e, which TTRPG should I play?”

That’s a pretty limited question to be asking, because there will be no one TTRPG for everything. And no, D&D5e is not the one TTRPG for everything, Hasbro’s marketing team is just lying to you. (Pathfinder and PbtA are not the one system for everything either!) Do you only play one video game or only watch one movie or only read one book? When you finish watching an action movie like Mad Max, and then you want to watch a horror movie, do you just rewind Mad Max and watch it over again but this time you act scared the whole time? No, you watch a different movie. I’m asking you to give the artistic medium of TTRPGs the same respect you would give movies.

“I want to play something besides D&D5e, but my friends won’t play anything else!”

I have several answers to this.

Try showing them this post.

If that doesn’t work: Make them. Put your foot down. This works especially well if you are the DM. Tell them you won’t run another session of D&D5e until they agree to give what you want to do at least one try instead of always doing only what they want to do. This is, like, playing 101. We learned this in kindergarten. If your friend really wants to play something else, you should give their game a try, or you’re not really being a very good friend.

If that doesn’t work, find another group. This doesn’t even mean that you have to leave your existing group. A good place to start would be the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club which will be mentioned and linked below. You can also go to the subreddit of any game you’re interested in and probably meet people there who have the same problem you do and want to put together a group to play something other than D&D5e. You might get along great with these people, you might not, but you won’t know until you try. Just make sure to have a robust “session zero” so everyone is on the same page. This is a good practice for any group but it is especially important for a group made of players you’ve just met.

“I only watch actual plays.”

Then watch actual plays of games that aren’t D&D5e. These podcasts struggle for the same reasons that indie RPGs struggle, because of the brand recognition and brand loyalty D&D5e has, despite their merit. I don’t watch actual plays, or else I would be able to list more of them. So, anyone who does watch actual plays, please help me out by commenting on this post with some non-D&D5e actual plays you like. And please do me a favor and don’t list actual plays that only play one non-D&D5e system, list ones that go through a variety of systems. The first one I can think of is Tiny Table.

“I can just homebrew away all the problems with D&D5e.”

Even though I want to, I’m not going to try and argue that you can’t actually homebrew away all the problems with D&D5e. Instead, I’m going to ask you why you’re buying two $50 rulebooks just to throw away half the pages. In most other good RPGs, you don’t need to change the rules to make them fun, they’re fun right out the box.

“But homebrewing D&D5e into any kind of game is fun! You can homebrew anything out of D&D5e!”

Firstly, I promise that this is not unique to D&D5e. Secondly, then you would probably have more fun homebrewing a system that gives you a better starting point for reaching your goal. Also, what if I told you that there are entire RPG systems out there that are made just for this? There are RPG systems that were designed for the purpose of being a toolbox and set of materials for you to work with to make exactly the game you want to make. Some examples are GURPS, Savage Worlds, Basic RolePlaying, Caltrop Core, and (as much as I loathe it) PbtA.

“I’m not supporting WotC’s monopoly because I pirate all the D&D5e books.”

Then you’re still not supporting the smaller developers that this monopoly is crushing, either.

Now, here’s the how. Because I promise you, there’s not just one, but probably a dozen other RPGs out there that will scratch your exact itch.

Here’s how to find them. This won’t be a comprehensive list because I’ve already been typing this for like 3 hours already. Those reading this, please go ahead and comment more to help fill out the list.

First, I’m gonna plug one of my own major projects, because it’s my post. The A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club. It’s a discord server that treats playing TTRPGs like a book club, with the goal of introducing members to a wide variety of games other than D&D5e. RPGs are nominated by members, then we hold a vote to decide what to read and play for a short campaign, then we repeat. There is no financial, time, or schedule investment required to join this book club, I promise it is very schedule-friendly, because we assign people to different groups based of schedule compatibility. You don’t have to play each campaign, or any campaign, you can just read along and participate in discussion that way. And if you can’t afford to buy the rulebook we’re going to be reading, we will make sure you get a PDF of it for free. That is how committed we are to getting non-D&D5e RPGs into people’s hands. Here is an invite link.

Next, there are quite a few tumblr blogs you can follow to get recommendations shown to you frequently.

@indierpgnewsletter

@indie-ttrpg-of-the-day

@theresattrpgforthat

@haveyouplayedthisttrpg

@indiepressrevolution

Plenty of podcasts, journalists, and youtubers out there do in-depth discussions of different systems regularly, a couple I can think of off the top of my head are:

Storyteller Conclave (I’m actually going to be interviewed live on this show on April 10th!)

Seth Skorkowsky

Questing Beast

The Gaming Table

Rascal News

Lastly, you can just go looking. Browse r/rpg, drivethrurpg.com, indie press revolution, and itch.io.

Now, if you really want to support me and my team specifically Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy, our debut TTRPG, is going to launch on Kickstarter on April 10th and we need all the help we can get. Set a reminder from the Kickstarter page through this link.

If you’re interested in a more updated and improved version of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy than the free demo you got from our website, there’s plenty of ways to get one!

Subscribe to our Patreon where we frequently roll our new updates for the prerelease version!

Donate to our ko-fi and send us an email with proof that you did, and we’ll email you back with the full Eureka prerelease package with the most updated version at the time of responding! (The email address can be found if you scroll down to the bottom of our website.)

We also have merchanise.

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nnooahhsworld · 2 months

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YANDERE HUSKER X MASC! READER WITH FLUCTUATING APPEARENCE

SUMMARY: Headcanons of “Yandere” Husk x Reader with fluctuating appearence.

FANDOM/CHARACTER/READER: Hazbin Hotel ;; Husker ;; Masc Reader.

PAIRING: Romantic or Platonic

WARNINGS: Stalking, manipulation, overprotective and Obssesed behavior, reader being kinda mentally unstable and insecure.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: love this request by @cupophrogs!! even if this isn't really yandere, i still wanted to implied it since that what's about my account.

✧ Honestly, I can't think of any other way you can meet Husk other than walking into the hotel and staying there.

✧ At first, you are insignificant to him (as ugly as that sounds). At first.

✧ I don't think Husk is someone who is very curious. Let alone gossipy. He's not nosy about other people's lives and tends to ignore them as long as they don't mess with him.

✧ Still, he is a great listener. He is willing to listen to others and gives good advice. I mean, he died while he was an old man, something he must have learned in his human life or in his life as an Overlord.

✧ Or after delivering his soul to the radio demon.

✧ But over time, he shows you more attention. I mean, the fact that your appearance and certain physical aspects of you change depending on your mood is intriguing.

✧ Because he has seen it. Everyone has seen it.

✧ You are someone with emotional problems, sensitive to a certain point. Your moods are constantly changing and therefore, certain characteristics of yours. That managed to capture his attention rather quickly.

✧ He is interested in these changes... how your teeth and fingers become sharper, your skin/fur becomes hard as scales and even your hair grows longer when you are angry and ready to attack.

✧ How your eyes get bigger, other smaller eyes appear and you can certainly shrink a little when you are startled by being off guard or feeling threatened or in danger.

✧ As your skin/fur grows and you lock yourself in it making yourself into a ball when you are sad and don't let anyone near you as your fingers sharpen to threaten anyone.

✧ As for that, Charlie really tries to help you. She wants to be there for you when you're down like your good friend but you shut down. With her, with everyone... except with Husk.

✧ Everyone opens up to some extent with Husk. Either because they're really drunk or they seriously need someone to talk to and Charlie isn't always the best, unfortunately.

✧ Let's remember that Husk knows everyone's problems in the hotel and sooner or later, he knows yours too. How you hate to overreact to anything, how you hate to see your appearance deform and become something horrible in your eyes because of your moods.

✧ Husk feels... pity. Although, after a while he becomes more overprotective as he forms a bond with you.

✧ At a certain point, understand your self-hatred as well, it's not nice that people in general are scared of you in general because of your mere appearance.

✧ Once he knows you beyond your problems, once he sees the sinner calm instead of angry, once he knows the real you, that's when his real obsession begins.

✧ Obsession that confuses with severe concern for you and becomes suffocating.

✧ He gets to the point of following you around when you're not in the hotel. You're not someone very powerful and you're in hell itself. Everyone is crazy and you'll never be safe there. Not unless he's in the shadows, watching you warily.

✧ You feel something strange in the air... eyes staring at you, your mind screaming at you that you are not as safe as you think and consequently, small eyes appear on your face and look everywhere desperate and scared, your fingers and fangs sharpen in any alert situation.

✧ Even inside the hotel, he watches discreetly and quietly. And that's one of the reasons why you're also a little more restless and cautious: you don't stop having that uneasy feeling no matter where you go.

✧ And you go to Husk for protection and the thought only gets worse once you get close.

✧ Husk wants you to only have confidence in him.... he doesn't like it when he notices you closer to Angel Dust, when you spend more time with Sir Pentious. And if you were to become close with Alastor, Husk would go crazy.

✧ His obsession with you turns him into a paranoid overthinker. What if he makes a deal with you? What if he steals your soul? What if he takes away your freedom? What if he takes you away from him?

✧ He puts his fear into your head indirectly. Subtle warnings, reminders of how dangerous Alastor is... whatever it takes to keep you safe.

✧ He also manipulates you into not trusting others. I mean, as jealous as he gets to feel, deep down he's happy to see you making friends. But shit, he's afraid that you won't trust him anymore, that you'll stop going to him for comfort, that he won't be the only one who sees through you anymore.

✧ So go ahead, bare your fangs and claws at the others but open your arms to him... only him.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel husk #husker hazbin hotel #hazbin husker #husk hazbin hotel #husk x reader #husk x male reader #hazbin hotel x reader #male reader #x reader #yandere x reader #yandere requests #yandere #x male reader #vivziepop

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yandere-kokeshi · 5 months

Note

thank you for wishing me well regarding my chronic pain. may i request a könig or ghost headcanon or drabble of a gender neutral y/n with a shoulder pain kind of chronic pain? like, being unable to carry anything heavy, limited movements, and needing help with simple tasks as they heal? thank you in advance!

— Yandere Ghost and König with gn darling who has shoulder pain from chronic illness

Warnings: yandere behavior, and talks about chronic illness.

A/N: I did both and headcanons! Hope that doesn’t make you upset. Enjoy <3!

Simon “Ghost” Riley:

He takes your health very seriously– always reminding you to never overwork yourself, even if you feel obligated to finish a chore/or assignment that you know will leave you sore. And if you require help, you ask him, and he’ll do it.

To an extent, he understands your pain. But he knows he’s not you, and you aren’t him; plus, pain is much more than a 1-to-10 scale ratio. He may be used to it now, but he remembers the sleepless nights, sharp pain electrifying everywhere in your joints, dreams of imagination of being painless, and exhaustion that holds tight onto you. He knows how awful it is, and seeing you in pain makes him uncomfortable.

With this said, Simon understands that all you need is care, love, and patience. Moving to-room-to-room could take so much out of you, even lifting a book has you gritting in pain, to which he takes care of you — easily taking it out of your hands. He often carries you, asking if you require anything else, and places you down wherever you like in the rooms.

To no surprise, Simon knows how to deal with pain: bringing you pain meds prescribed by your doctors, surprising you with your favorite snacks, running you a bath with bath–salts, or even going out of his way to massage your swollen joints, but only if you want him to.

Having limited movement because of your own pain leaves Simon’s really close to you. He’s at your beck and call, never forcing you to move, always groaning as he gets up from the bed to retrieve your choice of hobby, gladly fixing the blankets around your body and making himself comfortable beside you again. His arms around you, tracing lines in your skin as he asks what you want to watch on TV.

Simon does everything around the house for you without being asked. It’s how he shows his affection, other than being physically touchy, but he isn’t one for lovey-dovey words. Within the stance of you resting, you might have an ounce of guilt and try to help him — which he quickly refuses.

About the third time you get up, despite his warnings, he’s carrying you back to bed, grouching that you need to rest, not worry about him, and that you deserve as much rest as possible.

For the days when it’s hard to do self-care, he doesn’t judge and is more than happy to help you. Brushing your teeth for you in bed, gently changing your clothes, bringing in facial wipes, and ensuring you take your night meds; letting you lay on his chest, tracing the outline of your face, and giving himself a bit of a relief, as you’re slowly getting better.

König:

Attentive to your needs, kissing the side of your head as he reminds you to take it easy. König is fretting over you, always checking in and hopes that if he makes you something, it’ll ease your pain. But it’s never that easy. He realizes that it isn’t enough, that it’s more than you just feeling bad.

He’s babying you, and while he knows you’re capable of doing things, especially since you have had this forever, König would hate for you to extend your pain, or worse, have to go to the hospital due to a dislocation.

Because of this, he carries a lot of things in the house — constantly saying ‘no’ when you’re about to grab the groceries, or helping out with the dishes. He focuses on doing the chores, multitasking on doing the laundry, and coming in every 15 minutes to check up on you.

Chronic pain is difficult. He knows there’s medication, things that he will and can get for you to soothe the pain, but he doesn’t know the extent of your pain. So, when you express the burning sensation, or the pins-and-needles, he takes your words and works on making it decrease. König carries you, letting you lay on the freshly made bed, and asking what you want to do, as it’s a lazy-loving day for the two of you.

He’s constantly around you — gifting you things, your favorite foods, drinks, or whatever you feel at the moment. He’s always bringing you fresh-washed blankets, ducking them in tightly and kissing your forehead before sitting right next to you, hand on your thigh.

When the days of not feeling good, and you can’t leave the bed with how sore you are, he’s there, hand-feeding you soups, and praising you on how well you’re doing. He’s carrying you to the bath, starting the water to a nice temperature and having you strip; turning around for privacy before helping you in when you’re ready. König, of course, helps with washing your body and hair, kissing your skin gently as he asks what you want for dinner.

König lets you know that it’s okay, and you’re okay. He’s coddling you, always by your side and on your side, letting you lay in bed, and helping you stretch in order to regain a bit of flexibility. He knows it hurts, he sees your barely-down-to-tears, but this is necessary and he’s sorry.

—

Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

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maximumkillshot · 5 months

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I Got You

Warnings: Mentions of Self-Harm, Cutting and the Like, some mentions of blood, Fluff, Protective boys honestly

Pairing: Changbin x Reader

Characters: Changbin, BangChan, Felix, OC Manager,

A/N: It's a comfort piece for @orchid-mantis-petals and everyone else struggling... You are a warrior... Don't forget it.

‘This is bullshit!” You scream as you walk into the dorm. Slightly startling the inhabitants.

Changbin rounds the corner to the living room where you just plopped, with creatine in hand, “You know hobbies are supposed to have the opposite effect on you, right, Jagi?” He knows you love doing your hobby. As much as you despise your job, if anything helps you, it's going out and indulging yourself.

This was your only off day in the last two months. As much as you hate it, you need to be an adult, your words, not his. Your boyfriend and his friends know that he has offered thousands of times just to quit so that you can find a healthier job for you mentally, he’d take care of you. You just looked at him and said, “Yeah, no. I need to do things on my own, Binnie.” But this is what he was talking about.

He put the supplement away and said, “Do you want to talk about it or give me an address so that I can put my muscles to good use?” as he sat, dragging you to his lap, “Because as much as I say I do it for the look, I do it to protect you. And someone hurt my Jagi so… You tell me who I need to beat up.”

You chuckled as you said, “They did it again…”

Bin took a big breath and hissed out, “When you say ‘it’ you don’t mean scheduling you for a shift without telling you… right?”Then he took a breath and said, “Because if they did that then I… I am going to need addresses Jagi.”

Chan heard the big entrance and walked in from the bathroom, one look at Bin and he said, “Oh no.. okay how bad. On a scale of 1-10.” You could see that he just got out of the shower, some beads of water still clinging to his shoulders, sweatpants neatly tied on his hips.

Bin just looked at him and said, “They did it again…”

Chan’s face soured, “Oh ok so 11. Y/N. We talked about this.” he said as he crossed his arms.

You see, this is a very common occurrence at your job. For some reason, they give you no notice and expect you to telepathically understand that you need to come in on your weekend. This pissed everyone off especially…

There’s a knock at the door and Felix just walks in… he takes one look at his Hyungs and he knows, especially with the frustrated tears that are now rolling down your cheeks. “What’s going on? What happened?”

He dropped the brownies he just baked in the kitchen and came back in. Bin wiped some of your tears away as he said, “They did it again.”

Felix is usually the nicest person in a room. His face however reflected nothing but disdain, “A day off is a day off…. How hard is it for them to get???” He wiped his forehead, trying to flatten the scowl he had on his face.

“Guys it’s okay.” You said, knowing that all they are going to do is worry about you more.

Felix looked at you and said, “Actually not it isn’t, Cinnamon Roll. It’s not fucking okay. Not when you work so hard for so long that you can barely get out of bed… That is not okay.”

Chan said, “Okay screw this nooope.” He went into Bin’s room then his own and then his own. He emerged with his hoodie on and he threw the keys at Bin. “You are not going through this anymore, Angel. We told you. Naur.”

You looked and said, “Guys.”

Bin gently said, “Listen to me, okay. We talked about this. If they ever did this again, you said yourself that you couldn’t do it anymore. We told you, we are not going to let this happen, and you agreed, did you not?”

“Yes”

“Ookay so we are going right now. You’re done working there. Let’s go.” Bin left no room for discussion as you four piled into the car. These boys have seen you through it all, including passing out from exhaustion when they forced you to work doubles, and others spraining parts of your body you didn’t know you could sprain. That’s the times that are passing through Bin’s head. He hated seeing you like that… for a paycheck?? He couldn’t fathom it. Not when he makes enough and has a bed for you, a home if you say the word. No, he was done watching his Baby getting hurt for something he has plenty of.

Chan was always worried sick about you. He knows about your history. He remembers the first times he noticed your scars. He didn’t pry, didn’t want you to feel bad. That made him fiercely protective of you. When you did tell him and you pulled up your right sleeve, he wanted to cry. He asked if he could touch it, and you said yes. He noticed some of them connected to make a pair of Angel wings. “Ah, you have the mark of an angel.” He traced it, “A warrior angel… You are so so strong… I’m gonna call you that, Angel.” Since then that has been your nickname.

Felix got so angry because he knew the trigger for you was emotion regulation, and while no one was watching you were digging into your right forearm with your left. He caught you once, 5 weeks ago. He had tears in his eyes as he helped you clean it. He asked you how long, what triggered it, and how he could help. He just wanted to help his Cinamon Roll. He went with you to tell Bin of the relapse and since then at least 3 times a week he’s at your place, helping take your mind off of the stress, even if it means him staying with you until Bin comes to yours.

He noticed in the car your left hand was scratching at the old scars again, he held his hand out and said, “hold my hand… I need affection.” as he fake cried. You giggled as you grabbed his hand, stopping the urge to fiddle.

As soon as the car stopped Bin hopped out and opened the door for you. When they walked in Bin knew who he was looking for as your manager glared at you and said “You’re late.”

Bin laughed as he approached them, “late for what? Another shift you didn’t tell them about?”

They were speechless, as he continued, “Do you know what they go through for you? I love them so much and all you do is hurt them… That stops today, okay. No two weeks notice, no nothing.”

Their jaw dropped and he said, “Oh doesn’t feel so nice does it? Not knowing if something was going to happen… Well your staff shortage, just got worse. If the last check isn’t in the mail on time, then we are coming back, and you will be dealing with 8 very pissed-off men who have a lot of connections and millions of people in their fanbase… Bad press wouldn’t begin to cover it. Okay? Am I clear?”

They just nodded and he said, “Good. Jagia, do you have anything you need from your locker?”

You said, “Yeah I do.”

Bin looked at Chan and he nodded, Chan switched out with Bin and said, “We’re going to have a little chat about leadership and manners. Okay?”

Bin went to you and escorted you to get your things. Once you have everything you both went back to the front and signaled Felix and Chan to fall back. You couldn’t explain the relief as you walked to the car. When Felix and Chan got in the car. Bin opened the door for you. Before you got in he kissed your scars and said, “I love you… all of you, it’s over, okay? I got you.” Tears started to paint your face as he kissed you. Before he started crying he guided you in and closed the door.

Right after he closed his door he said, “So I don’t know about everyone else but Y/N’s day is now free which means we go to their favorite pastry shop and get those Apple Cinamon Rolls and have a movie marathon. If you don’t like it too bad we are doing it anyway!!”

You started giggling as Chan cranked the stereo. You had a lot of things that you deal with yes, but this moment let you realize, that you weren’t going through it alone. Especially not with Binnie, Lixie, and Chan. ----------------------------------------------------------------

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luveline · 1 year

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𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 | 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

one | two | three

Finding out you’re a princess isn’t half as intimidating as suddenly acquiring a full-time bodyguard. Especially when that bodyguard is disarmingly handsome, charming, and can’t seem to stop flirting with you.

bodyguard!james, fem!reader, shy!reader, princess diaries au, all characters in their 20s or older, star-crossed lovers/ forbidden romance, slowburn, background wolfstar

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Julianna is a real princess. As the niece of the Queen, her title is official. She’s been a princess all her life, and it’s a detail you can’t miss.

James’ hand is hot but amicable against your shoulder blade. He hasn’t stepped away from you since Julianna arrived, though what threat she poses has yet to be seen. She doesn’t seem particularly volatile. You can’t imagine her in all her dewy skin and fine clothing lifting a finger, let alone her fist.

“Mama says you’re an artist,” she drawls.

“Not really.” How her mother knows anything about you is a mystery. “It’s a hobby, is all.”

“And you didn’t finish university?”

“No.” You don’t owe her anything. You know you don’t. But it’s not just her you want to defend yourself to, not when Remus is sitting by the window of the parlour and James is close enough to hear your heartbeat. “I tried to, obviously, but I couldn’t, uh, afford to not work.”

“Ah.”

You don’t expect her to understand it. You know most people don't. Studying and working, the majority can handle both. You’d been ashamed of yourself for failing, but you’d come to the realisation that it was sink or swim. You could sink —hate yourself for being a little more fragile than others, for needing more time, more space, more accommodation— or you could swim. Accept your ‘shortcomings’. Make the most of what you have.

Find yourself in a foreign country surrounded by the highly educated and the ridiculously wealthy. People who might never comprehend why you’ve struggled, or how.

In that moment, you decide to treat this heart-wrenching trip as nothing more than a holiday. James is nice to you. The food is free and apparently plentiful. The grounds…

Fuck, the grounds. The scenery. The royals aren’t currently living in their most famous residence, Loswell Castle, but are instead mourning the Prince at the more private and more subtle Bellaverden House. Subtle, yet gorgeous. The grass is green and stretches as far as the eye can see in all directions, broken up only by the silhouette of the alps to the east and the shimmering Lake Orlo to the west. The palace itself is nothing like you’d expected, and so far from the capital city of Genovia it is no surprise to find that the royals let their personal tastes bleed into every corner. It’s tasteful, silent wealth, no crystal chandeliers hanging from the eaves but instead a Rembrandt in the hallway. No solid gold cutlery, but instead Noritake porcelain tea cups and their matching exorbitant saucers.

“Loswell is the gaudier of the two houses,” James had said, evidently pleased by your wide-eyed surprise.

A nice boy who’s being paid to spend time with you and his funny friends. All you have to do is survive the paparazzi (check!) and your suspicious possible relatives (less so).

Any hour now, the paternity test will come up negative and they’ll be shepherding you home in search of the actual princess, wherever she may be.

If she exists at all.

“You haven’t eaten anything today,” James says softly, for your ears only. “Should we go down to the kitchens?”

It’s hard to describe the true and daunting scale of the palace, but James’ use of ‘kitchens’ rather than ‘kitchen’ sums it up nicely.

Julianna rolls her shoulders, reaching for a black telephone on the side table. “No need. We’ll have it brought up. What do you like? They have yards of fresh pasta prepared by now. Doesn’t matter, I’ll ask for some of everything.”

“Oh, no,” you say, stepping out of James' reach. “I don’t want to be an imposition while I’m here.”

“That ship has sailed,” she says neatly.

Ouch. You look back to James without intending to, an automatic movement. He’s become your safety net too quickly. His job is to protect you from harm, not your catty maybe-cousin’s mild disdain.

“Sit,” Julianna says. “James, you can take up station in the hallway. Go on.”

Her voice possesses all the snobbish airiness you’d expect it to. She’s regal, elegant, and rude. James’ hand stretches toward yours, but your skin never touches. You think it might be his silent way of saying he won’t be far.

He gives you a reassuring look, not quite smiling. “If you need me,” he says.

“Tutor,” Julianna adds once James is at the door, “you can leave us.”

“Remus, please.” You smile at Julianna appealingly, piping up before she can steal your last lifeline. “I need him to tell me what silverware to use. If I have any hope of catching up, I’ll have to start learning about proper etiquette straight away.”

You look to your tutor to make sure he’s on board. Remus gestures for you to sit and crosses the hardwood floors between you, his soft shoes barely making a sound. Julianna sniffs, your suggestion agreeable but tiresome for her, and pulls the telephone receiver to her ear.

Remus settles into the chair next to yours at the table.

“Don’t worry. We won’t leave you for wolves,” he says.

You’re grateful. You nod to the book in his hands. “What are you reading?”

He turns the book around. A Comprehensive History of Contemporary Genovia.

“I’ve never had to educate someone who didn’t already know a very specific, very intricate history of our country,” he says in his rough voice, the barest hints of his accent peaking through. He says our country like you already belong as he does, not native but citizen anyhow. “Honestly, I provide supplementary education for the well-educated, I… I’m like a second chance for rich slackers. You’re neither, and so I’m unsure how I can make this easy on you.”

You admire his thinking. You’ve been lucky to find yourself in the care of people who put your comfort first. Remus, James, Sirius, even the ambassadors of the country, and the matron you’d been introduced to upon your arrival here, they’ve all been so conscientious.

But it won’t matter.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he says.

“You do?”

“You’ve made it clear how much faith you have in the current situation. I believe…” that you’re who we suspect you are, you think he might say, but he parts his legs to bump his knee into yours. “I believe we’re going to be good friends.”

That is… “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

He nods.

“So, what’s with the bruise?” Julianna asks abruptly. “And the bad makeup. Mean boyfriend back home?”

Her cavalier attitude rubs you the wrong way immediately. “I was a little too close to the door when someone opened it.”

“Ah.”

Again with the Ah. Extra syllables must be at cost.

Positivity, you remind yourself. This is a vacation. This inane and insane need to constantly prove yourself to the people around you is going to make you crazy, especially when all of this is temporary. Who cares what princess Julianna thinks of you now when, in a day or two, she’ll remember you as nothing more than the girl who they brought by mistake? And wouldn’t it be nice to just… not care? Who cares what Julianna thinks.

You stand and walk to the door where James is standing, because calling for him would make you feel like an entitled dick. He turns his head to you obligingly.

“Would you come back inside?” you ask. “The painting is giving me the heebies.”

“That’s a portrait of your great great grandmother.”

“She’s scary.”

He claps your shoulder, giving it a tender squeeze. “If the test comes out negative, princess, I’ll happily commit royal espionage for you and fix the results.”

“That is not a joke you should make,” Remus calls mildly.

“Probably not. I’ve made it now. Sit down, princess, the food’s arriving.”

The food they bring up to you is incredible. Genovian cuisine is actually mostly stolen from the Italians, and how fortunate you are for that. You have no clue where to start, surrounded by rich smells of broth and stewed vegetables, the spritely aroma of white wine and tomatoes so fresh their roasted skins split under the gentle bottom of your spoon.

James refuses to eat with you, as he’s on the clock, but Remus sits down at the table as promised to guide you through the fascinatingly awful etiquette of a new royal.

“That’s Cioppino,” Remus says, pointing to a dark red stew bragging large pieces of crab, smaller chunks of a white meat you’re unsure of, and the distinct dark brackets of mussel shells. “It’s actually an Italian-American dish. It’s served with sourdough or french bread, but in our case, where you can’t necessarily use your hands, we’ll go without.”

“Well, there’s nobody here I need to impress, right?” you ask quietly.

You swear you can hear Julianna twitching.

He ignores your comment, but his voice is riddled with amusement when he says, “It’s more common for the crab to be served in its shell, but I don’t suppose they want the royals using crab forks and crackers." He points to a second bowl. “This, from the looks of it, is a variation of stufato di capra e fagioli, Italian for ‘stew of goat meat and beans’. Self explanatory. It’s very popular here in the winter, it’s,” —his voice drops to a lower register— “Sirius’ favourite. Shoulder meat, onions, carrots, celery, white wine and white beans. I don’t suppose I have to tell you what that is.” He nods to a heaping bowl of gnocchi coated in a green, buttery sauce, and its familiar wingman — fettuccine alfredo.

“Now there’s one I know,” you say with a smile.

“I think they’ve gone easy on you,” Remus says. “Given you something they knew would be familiar. The head cooks, Marl and Marsha, hardly ever serve fettuccine without ragù di pollo. Chicken ragù. It’s a sacrament in Marlene’s eyes to separate the two.”

He moves so easily from English to Italian. You wonder if he speaks Genovian. Is there a Genovian language? You’re too embarrassed to ask, and instead pile some unadventurous fettuccine into your bowl.

Julianna picks up the telephone again and you let yourself relax as her conversation begins. She picks at her food and talks in Italian down the line, staring straight at you as she says the word, ‘principessa’. You don’t have to be a linguistics expert to know she’s talking about you. Eventually, her attention fades. Remus relaxes with you.

“This spoon,” he corrects, before opening his book and sagging into his seat.

You're famished, but now all this rich food is making you feel sick. You pick at your fettuccine alfredo and a little of the cioppino. Weirdly, you miss the ordinary smells of your kitchen. You think you might prefer a white bread sandwich and a packet of crisps.

A figure moves behind you, James shadow shifting to cover your hands. “Unladylike it might be,” he says, “but you’ll regret it if you don’t try the bread, princess. Freshly baked, pretty much soaked in pesto, it’s what us peasant folk fight over at the end of a shift.”

You hold your hand to a beautiful sliced baguette, “This one?”

“That’s the one.”

You pull the bread apart and enter a stodgy, olive oily sort of heaven. The only thing better than how it tastes is James' happy sound when you set aside a huge slice in a napkin and usher it behind your back, as inconspicuous as you can possibly be about it. He has no choice but to take it. You don’t look, but a telltale crunch comes quickly and poorly smothered.

Julianna excuses herself, and a maid, maybe, comes to take her plates and dirtied cutler on a silver cart. You lean toward Remus with a hand over your mouth. “What do you call them? The ladies in uniform.”

“Princess, you could call them whatever you wanted to,” James butts in. He wipes his mouth with a napkin and sits in one of the chairs facing the door and windows. He’s always on the alert.

“But what’s nicest? I don’t want to be offensive.”

“You’ll learn their names in time,” Remus says easily. “You’ll be fine. Officially, they’re ‘attendants’. Maids, cleaners. Oh, you’ll have a lady in waiting–”

“A what?”

“A personal assistant,” James says.

Your face heats up like an instant flush, all hot pinpricks and embarrassment, “No,” you beg, standing up, “please, that would be entirely unnecessary, it’s not like I’m some sort of–”

“Princess!” A familiar voice shouts. Sirius has weaselled inside the door and closed it tight, his back pressed against it for a moment like he’s keeping someone out. He wears an exuberant smile and a brilliant dark ensemble with fine pinstripes that mess with your eyes as he approaches. He’s practically running. “I’ve spoken to Delilah who’s spoken to Bella who’s spoken to Lily who’s been in contact with the legal team in charge of Y/N’s care here in Genovia, and they’ve heard from the medical team who have been fighting tooth and nail to be put in talks with you,” —he looks at you now, and there’s something about his expression, part wide-eyed awe, part sympathy, that freezes you to the spot— “because it’s technically your care, and–”

“Sirius, mate, just put her out of her misery,” James says. He’s looking at you in a different way. Like he’s waiting for you to fall over.

“Your father,” Sirius says, promptly deciding to start again. “The paternity test came out positive. Your DNA is a match for the Prince, may he rest in peace. You’re a princess. You’re the princess, by blood. You’re a Thermopolis.”

There’s a stretching silence. You wrap your hand around the back of your chair and stare at the velvet upholstery of the seat.

“Terrible last name,” he adds sympathetically.

You don’t want to be the girl who faints. That would be ridiculous, to fall over and crack your head. So, though you hate to ask for anything, you mumble, “James?”

He wraps a shapely arm behind your back and under your armpit before you lose the feeling in your legs.

“I think I need to sit down again,” you say.

“Reckon you do," he agrees, as he pulls the chair out with his foot and arranges you in it efficiently, the tip of his thumb pushed into the pulse point on your neck. “We’ll get you something cold, princess. You can breathe.” He gives you a little shake, hand spreading wider as it drags down your collar. The pressure is like the safety release of a suction cup. You take in a huge breath. “Breathe. There’s a good girl.”

“I’m fine," you say meekly.

“It’s alright,” he says, with his impossible softness. He’s unafraid to be kind, even when there are people watching.

“I’m fine. I–” You can’t finish your sentence. You’d wanted to say you’ll be okay. That this is just some melodramatic episode, but it isn’t. This is a human reaction to unbelievable news. Because you’re a– you’re a princess.

You cover your face with both hands and curl in toward your thighs. Silence pervades, your ears abuzz with white noise. You aren’t sure how long you sit there paralysed, but soon James’ gentle murmuring and shushing cuts through the ringing. “It’s alright,” he’s saying, his hand at your elbow, “I swear, it’s alright. You take as long as you need.”

“Mickey’s at the door,” Sirius says.

“Good. Tell him to radio in a level two security detail and stay by the door. Who else knows, Sirius?”

“By now? Everybody in the castle. Including government officials.”

“And you’re sure?”

Sure said severely.

“Of course I am.”

You’re trying very hard to keep your pasta down. This can’t be happening. It can’t be right. Their test is wrong. They swabbed the inside of your mouth wrong, or got it mixed up with some other person test, or the doctors are lying. Not once in your whole life has there ever been any indication that you are more than the nothing you’ve always been. All your worst insecurities rip to the surface. Not me. Not me.

“Level two isn’t as bad as it sounds,” James says gently. He’s been talking to you again. “All it means is that I’m not at full attention, and I need someone else to watch the room. That’s all it is.”

“I’m not,” you say.

“You’re okay.”

“I’m not a princess,” you say, peeking at him through your parted fingers.

His hand curves around your arm. He pulls it toward him. Encouraging rather than demanding. You let him.

“Whatever it is that you are,” he says, meeting your eyes, “I’m here to take care of you. Okay? Try to calm down for me.” He nods, hoping you’ll nod back no doubt. You worry at your lip, your teeth scratching delicate skin.

“Sorry,” you say.

“No one’s expecting you to feel a certain way right now,” Sirius says. The urgency in his expression has departed completely. He has an air of regret about him now, an uncomfortable set to his jaw.

It’s not just James in the room witnessing your wobble. You cover your face again and try to become one with the furniture.

James stands off of his knees, having seemingly decided that you aren’t in any mental peril. He stays hovering behind your chair. You think you might’ve found them all at a loss for what to do.

The door opens. You imagine a nightmare, Julianna coming to play nice, but it’s the British ambassador Lily once again. She looks as perfect as she did when you saw her last with an immaculately straightened sheet of hair fluttering behind her, her steps hurried. Despite her speed, she doesn’t look unhappy. She’s smiling. Genovian ambassador (in particular, the ambassador that facilitated your movements between the two countries and the establishment of your dual citizenship status) Emmaline follows behind her.

You try to straighten up.

“We have wonderful news,” Lily says.

“You’re the princess!” Emmaline squeaks, her tiny stature no bounds for her excitement. “Welcome home!”

She begins clapping. It slows when nobody joins in.

“What?” she asks cluelessly. “Has something bad happened?”

That’s what you’re trying to work out.

—

James can hear you sniffling.

He rests his shoulders against the wall by your bedroom door and sighs. You'd held it together for hours now after the announcement, but Sirius' last amendment had toppled you over.

You have to meet your grandmother tomorrow to begin preparing for your father's funeral.

James thinks you might have reached your breaking point. He can't imagine the grief of losing a father you didn't know you had, and the stress of being pulled out of your life so suddenly, carted across Europe and left under the judgemental eyes of royals and officials with little direction. Now that the paternity test has been conclusively positive and checked by many, many professionals, your confirmed identity should hopefully provide a more stable schedule. From James perspective, the days ahead will be easy. For you, they are going to be very, very hard.

You'll meet the Queen tomorrow at breakfast. The plans for your permanent residency in Genovia will be decided. Your entire life is about to change, and there's nothing you can do to stop it.

Well… James doesn't really want you to stop it, but it's not entirely true that you can't. You could reject your heritage and go home to your flat, your art, your degree equivalent classes. Maybe you're crying because you're scared you don't have options.

James thinks about knocking on the door to talk to you. He meant it when he said he has a duty to all aspects of your health, the mental as well as the physical, but it's difficult to define the line between professionalism and being friendly. He's already crossed it.

He sighs and rubs his weary head. He's fucking tired. Today has been the longest day ever. You'd slept for an hour in the car from the airport to Bellaverden Castle, and James had watched you half jealous and half enraptured. He won't mind looking after you no matter how you look, but your being easy on the eyes is a brilliant plus. Well, when ignoring the huge bruise staining your cheek.

"Fuck," he says.

He hasn't been doing very well. Honestly, his failure to keep you from harm in your flat (even if the harm had been him) and then his screw up with the paparazzi…

He pulls out his pager. He should swap with one of the night guards now and he trusts them all, having picked them himself, but he wouldn't feel right walking away while you're crying.

He clicks in Remus' code and waits until he hears it back. It's shorthand between them. If he wasn't awake or didn't want to see him, Remus could've ignored James' page and there'd be no hard feelings. But he answered. Tonight, once James has made sure you're okay, he'll crawl into Remus' bed like when they were kids in a cold dormitory and missing home and sleep for a glorious eight hours. He might even tell Remus how stressed he is. He knows his friend will listen.

He'd invite Sirius, of course, (and that's assuming he isn't already there) but it's well past ten. Sirius is definitely asleep.

James hasn't had a proper night's sleep in a week. He feels poorly. He misses his mum. He's hungry. This job is great, he loves what he does; he gets paid to take care of people. It's also too much. It eats at him.

"Fuck," he says again.

"James?"

He flinches hard.

There it is, his third mistake. He's very lucky that the chief of royal security is busy making funeral arrangements, because if Mary were here she'd gut him.

You've crept up on him in his distraction and that is so fucking dangerous. How could he not notice your footsteps across the floor, or your door handle's heavy metallic thunking?

"Princess," he says, biting his tongue when you wince. He'll have to call you something else. "I'm sorry, I–" James squints at your sore eyes.

"It's okay. I just wanted to ask… are you alright?"

His shoulders hunch slightly. "Am I alright?"

You fluster. "I just heard you and I wanted to make sure you were doing okay. You sounded… stressy."

"You don't have to worry about me. That's my job." He frowns at the remnants of your tear stains, dampness shining at the corners of your eyes and your lashes sticking together in darkened triangles. "I was just about to come and see you, actually. I know today's been hard, and I know I haven't helped you. I'm so sorry, again, for your cheek. And at the airport, I know the scuffle with that photographer didn't help your nerves. I know," he stresses, "this is hard. I swear things will be smoother from now on. You have my word."

You rub your elbow wordlessly. He's about to backtrack, or perhaps dig himself a bigger hole, but you look up at him and give him one of the softest smiles anyone's ever given him in all his years.

"It's forgiven. Believe me, James, this is the least of my worries," you say, gesturing to your cheek. It only takes a second for shame to stick its hooks in you, yanking your gaze to the floor. You're wearing an expression he's seen a thousand times on the people closest to him.

He flicks you under the chin gently.

"Things are gonna get easier. I swear it," he says.

You plaster a smile on. James figures he can push it some more and wipes the smudgy shine of old tears off your cheek.

"There. Looking good, angel."

Definitely unprofessional. He keeps getting this weird feeling like you're his friend and not his charge. It's fleeting and it's making him stupid. This and the sleep deprivation. He swears to himself he'll be better tomorrow.

You bid him goodnight. He listens to your night time motions until another guard comes to release him from duty. James rushes to his room for a shower and a cereal bar, giving his teeth a half-hearted brush before setting off for Remus' room halfway across the castle. Remus and the other scarcely employed scholars don't have to sleep in the servants' quarters like he and Sirius do. Schmuck.

He finds the door unlatched. Mercifully, James decides to spare them both the safety related lecture. He tries to be as quiet as he can, but a head of sandy brown hair turns his way.

"James?" Remus asks, his voice thick with fatigue.

"Sorry. You can go back to sleep."

"I was waiting for you. Drifted off."

James scrubs a hand through his damp hair and knocks off the light. He can find his way in the dark.

"Sirius isn't here?"

"James…"

"What, are we still pretending?"

"James."

"I'm sorry. Forgive me, Moony."

"Yeah. Don't lean on my left side. I'll move over."

"What's wrong with your left side?"

"I don't know. Maybe from carrying the bags. Maybe not."

James slides into the warm space Remus has made for him and tries not to go into overprotective mode. Loving someone who's constantly in pain can be confusing. You don't know how much love you're allowed to give before it starts to look patronising.

Remus can take care of himself, but he doesn't need to.

"Anything I can do?" James whispers.

"Tell me what's bothering you."

"Oh, you know… Everything. Nothing. I'm so happy we're all together again, I mean, what are the fucking odds? How long has it been since I could come and see you guys after work without making an appointment? And I didn't love the Prince, but I hate that he's dead, and I…"

Remus turns his head to James. They're a pillow apart. When James looks at him, he can't remember what he looked like when they were young, but he can feel the years of knowing one another stretching out between them. A straining curtain of yellow light from the hallway catches the edges of Remus' features. James can see the corner of an uneven smile.

"Go on," Remus says quietly.

"She's nice. She's really nice. I don't want her to get hurt."

"James, you don't want anyone to get hurt."

"I thought this was a demotion."

"Isn't it?"

"If it is, it's one I deserve. I deserve another one. Once Mary sees the mess I've made…"

Remus reaches across the sheets to pinch James' bicep. "Nobody is good at their new job. Sirius didn't touch up the princess' bruise when we got off the plane, and while they're paid off for now, someone who needs the better payout is going to publish those photos, and soon. Sirius should've been doing his job, but he was too busy looking after me."

"I tried to cover it–"

"I know. You did a good job and I'm not blaming you, Prongs, anyway. My point is that he made a mistake. Does he deserve a demotion?"

"Ew. Hate you."

"And I should've better prepared her for meeting Princess Julianna. It was my fault that she felt embarrassed. I tried my best to fit in some coaching for breakfast tomorrow but the poor girl doesn't know a butter knife from a paring knife."

"That's not true."

"No," Remus agrees. "I'm making her seem less educated than she is to prove my own point… James, she isn't a princess. She has the blood, and soon she'll get the official title, the land and the money and the education and maybe some of the bad bits, as well. But right now, she's new to being a princess, and she's not very good at it."

"I get it."

"Yeah, I know."

Remus readjusts in bed. James almost misses the pain in his friend's exhale under the sound of crunching fresh sheets.

"Are you sure I can't do something for you?"

"I wish," Remus says. He isn't depressed. The opposite, he sounds way too spritely for the time. "You could stop hogging the blankets, for starters."

James feeds Remus some more blanket and sighs. The mattress is heavenly. The quilts and sheets and pillowcases are soft and thick. By all means, James should've fallen asleep the second his head touched anything mildly comfortable.

"You've asked Mickey to look after her tomorrow, right?" Remus asks.

James had radio'd Mikkelson after his shower to put the early morning shift and protocols in his jurisdiction temporarily. That means James will hopefully be able to sleep until his body feels like it can hold itself together again. He doesn't like leaving you to face the Queen by yourself, but it's not as if she'll hurt you, and Sirius will see you bright and early to help you get dressed. James isn't worried.

"I have. How did you know that?"

"You're the only one of us who knows how to properly take care of themselves," Remus explains easily. "Good. I'm glad you did. You haven't been sleeping."

"How do you know that?"

"I love you. I know everything about you."

James smiles at the ceiling. Beams. There is nothing quite as valuable to him than his family. He would do more to keep them all safe and healthy than he should admit on the record, so he keeps it all tucked inside and out of view. It's terrifying and freeing at once to look at someone you love and know you're going to do something awful one day if it means they'll come out on the other side of it alive.

"Not everything," he murmurs.

"Everything, James."

"Yeah? How many fingers am I holding up right now."

"One."

"Which?"

"Middle."

"Lucky guess." James laughs at their childish squabbling. "I love you too. I'm really glad we're in the same place again."

"What did you say? What are the fucking odds?" Remus quotes, so tired now that his words are running together. "I'm not sod enough to do the maths, I think it's gotta be deep in the decimals. Lily's and Mary's involvement definitely helped, but to have someone come along who needs security detail, special education, and a lady in waiting is unfathomable."

James laughs and feels his abdomen shaking. "I'm telling Sirius you called him a lady in waiting."

"Sorry," Remus says, and James knows his friend is genuinely repentant, even though Sirius would've laughed himself if he'd heard the joke. "I'm not trying to put him down. He's worked so hard, he– He's working so hard. He thinks it's easy work because he's good at it. He doesn't realise it's easy because he worked very very hard to be good at it."

James has to chew it over for a moment to understand what Remus is saying. Once he understands, he vehemently agrees. Sirius is skilled in so many areas. He can style both a model and their wardrobe spontaneously. He's a media liaison, a sleuth, a sweet talker. He understands the inner workings of Western media — Sirius can deduce the honesty of a smile from a precursory glance. He may not always trust what he's seeing, but he sees it undeniably.

"He's the best of us," James sighs agreeably, stretching down the length of the bed until his spine pops and his calves burn. "Shit. I need to start working out properly again now we're here."

"Tomorrow. We'll figure it all out tomorrow, James. Go to sleep."

James is obedient. He falls asleep, and doesn’t wake until the sun is warming his cheeks. His hair is still damp and he feels awful in a new way. Better for having slept with someone close by, and catching up on the hours he’s been missing. But his back is stiff.

He goes back to his room. His neck aches as he brushes his teeth. He does a workout in the small space of his room and stretches out his rigid limbs until he feels human again.

The black telephone on his nightstand starts to ring. He hates them. He wishes the royals would go back to bells.

“Hello, sir,” Lily says cheerfully down the line. James can picture her sweet smile. “I couldn’t help but notice your absence this morning.”

“How did it go?” he asks, trying to tug on a new pair of socks one handed.

Lily hums. “It wasn’t awful. It wasn’t good, but it could’ve been worse. Her majesty liked her. Y/N was quiet, she was awkward, but we all know they prefer quiet to mouthy. The last thing they wanted was another Julianna. I felt kind of bad, really. Like I was handing her over.”

“She…” James sighs. “She didn’t seem upset, did she, Lils?”

“No, I actually think she was feeling good. Your boys took good care of her.”

“Brilliant. Oh, and to answer your unasked question, I’m being slovenly. I’ll be back on duty by noon.”

“Slovenly,” she repeats. “I’ve never known you to be any sort of lazy.” She laughs. James is happy that the sound doesn’t break his heart anymore. “Alright, James. I’ll see you later.”

He appreciates what she’s doing, letting him know you’re okay while he’s away. It’s uncanny how fast the people in charge of your care can band together.

James gives himself a minute to wipe away yesterday and prepare for today. He closes his eyes and shakes his head ferociously, his hair flying every which way. He sorts through all his worries one by one, letting that anxiety eat at him methodically —he’s a bad bodyguard, he’s a bad friend, he doesn’t call his mum enough, he’s chicken shit scared of dying alone, the works— and then pushing it away. Today is a new day with new opportunities. He can prove to you and to himself that he’s good at his job, he can make sure his friends are doing alright, he can call his mum tonight before dinner, and dying alone? He isn’t dying today. So that one’s on the back burner.

He makes his way from his room in the quarter and into the main building, wary that he might come upon a duke or duchess. His radio, clipped as it always is against his left shoulder, chirps with chatter. He bites back a scolding about keeping the line clear and looks out the huge glass windows at the grounds below. A marble water fountain spurts proudly at the foot of the stairs, and an elaborate hedgework stands at pruned attention. It’s a nice day. He wonders if you’ll be up for walking.

He looks for you in the secondary parlour, the den, the library, the dining room. He swings by your room, and when you aren’t there he admits defeat and unclamps his radio, cutting through an inappropriate joke unapologetically.

“Afternoon. Location on Princess Y/N?”

He imagines his subordinates scrambling to answer, embarrassed by their unprofessionalism, but it’s likely they just don’t know where you are.

“If I don’t get an answer in the next five seconds, you can all expect to be running laps tonight. That includes you, Mikkelson, I don’t care how much overtime–”

“Sir, this is Daniels. Me and Roma are with the princess in the south wing.”

“Why?”

“She wanted a pencil sharpener.”

James grins to himself. The south wing (or, as James might put it, the guest wing), houses the scholars, the ambassadors, and whatever government official the royals are trying to butter up at the time. He’s feeling positively joyful when he finds you, sketching away with your face pressed to the window. The genovian mountainscapes take shape on your page one confident stroke of graphite at a time, a small leather bound sketchbook pressed flat to your knee.

“Settling in?” he asks.

You raise your head but not your eyes. “You could say that.”

“How was meeting Her Majesty?”

You frown.

“That bad?” he asks.

“No, I mean. You know. She’s a queen. It was terrifying.”

Despite your unhappy mouth, you look as relaxed as you have since the moment he met you. You’re in what’s clearly a casual Genovian dress, what with the subtle but remarkable stitching a shade darker than the dress itself and the squared neckline. Your calves are out and glossy in the daylight. They’re rather distracting.

“You look good,” James says carefully.

“I’ll miss the fancy lotions,” you say. Your pencil scratches away.

James’ hands falter where they’re clasped behind his back. “What?”

You meet his eyes properly. He hadn’t realised you’d been avoiding his gaze until you weren’t, your face ringed with guilt, an explanation slow to come.

“I’m not staying. I can’t be a princess, James.” You shake your head mildly. “I’m going home.”

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

thanks so much for reading! oh no, you want to go home!! rest assured, james and co aren’t letting you go too easily. i hope you enjoyed, reblogs are always appreciated, a thousand kisses for all of you either way <3<3

#james potter fic #james potter #marauders era #marauders #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #the marauders

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jarofstyles · 7 months

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FICTOBER DAY 3- Don't You Trust Me?

If you guys like this we can do another part for this.. hehe

FICTOBER Promts and masterlist

Patreon

1.2k

warnings- mention of abuse, werewolves, asshole!harry, mention of blood and injury, mention of death/killing

-----

Y/N was silent as she looked up at the man who had the power to ruin her life standing over her. Her arms were crossed, body sat in the corner as his wolfish smile sent a shudder through her body.

God, he was scary. The alpha of a rival pack greeting you personally in a holding cell was absolutely not what the ideal scenario would be for anyone, but especially not when it was this alpha. He wasn’t known for his kindness, his pack staying to themselves and remaining self sufficient. When her own pack had tried to come in and take over years ago when she herself was just a pup, they’d lost hundreds. The true scale and viciousness of the pack had been extremely underestimated by an arrogant alpha with no sense of fear. Surely he died with one though, at the hands of the one in front of her.

“There, there, pet. Why are you trembling?” The croon was sickening, the eyes dark as he slowly approached her cowering body. “Hm? You’ve got to understand why we had to take you in. Sniffing around our land is… unfavorable. Not a wise move.” His shoes clicked on the cement of the holding cell, the cold floor itself freezing her core. He was pawing at her, playing with his food. “Do you know who I am?”

Y/N didn’t find her voice yet, nodding as an answer. That wasn’t good enough for him, though, and she felt it when his voice dropped and he stopped right in front of her. “You’re a big girl. Use your words. Do you know who I am.. Where you are?”

“Yes.” She squeaked, swallowing thickly as she kept her eyes averted. “I know who you are and I know where I am.”

“So tell me why you thought it was a good idea to turn up here?” He asked, the toe of his brown leather boot nudging her knee. “Hm? Give me your eyes when you’re speaking.” His voice tensed. “Don’t be disrespectful.”

Y/N was terrified. This was a man who was known for devious things when provoked and the last thing she wanted to do was provoke her, but her body was frozen. “I’m s-sorry, I’m just afraid. I didn’t mean to come on to your land. I got lost.” The excuse was laughed off, the bark of laughter making her clench her fists. Why would he laugh at that?

“Lost? You avoided all the signs?” His arms crossed over his broad chest making her sink deeper into the wall. His gaze cut like a knife into her own. “I find it hard to believe that. But let’s say I do. Why should I let you go? I see… quite an interesting pack mark on your arm.” His smile was rueful, eyes narrowed as he stared at the mark with clear detestment. “How do I know you aren’t a spy, hm?” He growled. “How do I know that the weak land you come from hasn’t gained another delusional leader, since it seems to run in your stream water, thinking they can overtake my own land?”

“I swear, that isn’t it, I don’t agree with what they’ve done in the past and I-” The interruption was another growl that made her cower back, internally hating herself for it. If she had proper food and water in her, perhaps the snark could come back where it usually sat at the tip of her tongue, but she was too tired and frightened to argue. “I was trying to escape them. I was, I was trying to throw them off my trail and making different lines for them to follow. I wasn’t paying attention and didn’t even know until I was tackled and brought up here.” Rudely, she may add. Tossed into the cell with no answer of why and no chance to explain herself. Until now.

“Escaping?” Harry quirked a brow, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip as he observed her. There was no telling if he believed her or not, but she was wishing on every star she had that he could spare her. “Why would you try and escape them? They try to advertise being a luxurious and exclusive pack…” His eyes ran over her. “It would make sense for them to think little of me. Send their prettiest pack member over with a sob story, try and break into my strategies and secrets. There are always whispers.”

“I-I swear to the moon, that isn’t the case. I’m leaving because- because my father promised me to the alpha’s son. He’s dangerous. I’ve been hurt so many times before just in the courting process and they won’t let me back out of this deal.” She swallowed her sob that had been crawling up her throat, terrified of her fate. “I know it sounds fake but I swear it, Alpha. I promise. They’ll put out a howl for me soon, report me missing and stolen but If I was to return, they’d kill me.” She stressed, eyes widening up at the bigger man. “Oh god, I’m going to die either way. You’re going to kill me too.”

“Perhaps.” The werewolf Alpha replied. “If you’re lying, I’ll cut your throat myself. I’ll make an example out of you and send your arm back to your pack, with that disgusting mark branded over with our own.” It was terrifying, the way he spoke with such little care for her life- as if it would please him to make a point to the pack she was running from. “But, if you aren’t lying.. I think it would be such a beautiful turn of events if I take you in. Rub some salt in the wounds I know are still gaping open back in those artificial crystal encrusted gates.” He sneered in obvious distaste, the true hatred of her birth pack showing with his eyes. Y/N couldn’t help that tiny sliver of hope at his words, though. If he took her in?

“I promise, I swear it, I’m not lying. If you- if you can promise me safety from them, I’ll stay and work for you, I’ll do anything... You won’t regret it.” She pleaded, giving him her most honest look. She was exhausted, filthy, her ankle throbbed and her head was still bleeding from where the guard had wacked it on the tree when she flailed. All she wanted was a warm bed, a wash, some food and safety from the people she knew were hunting her.

The strong creature gazed down at her with a silent promise. If she messed this up, she was dead. If she was out in the forest, she probably would suffer the same fate.

“Anything?” That wolfish smirk rose on his lips, a sparkle like glint in his eyes. Y/N knew that wasn’t a good thing, but she had no choice but to nod. “Unwise to promise that, little pet. But i suppose I can let you stay.” Harry couldn’t resist the temptation to win yet another battle from her pathetic excuse of a pack. Having their most attractive member run to him for shelter? That would be the icing on the bloody cake. “You’ll be put on probation. I need you to be watched and I will be listening in to every rumor and whisper in the wind to assure you aren’t leaking anything back.” Taking a step forward, he extended his large hand, Y/N’s swallow audible as she was slow to place her smaller, dirt and blood stained palm into his own.

“Lets move a bit faster, pet. Don’t you trust me?”

#jarofstyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry fic #werewolf harry styles #alpha harry #alpha Harry styles #harry styles halloween #jarofstyles fictober 2023 #jarofstyles fictober

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whoreish-behaviour · 1 year

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Revenant 4

Previous - Next

Na'vi!Colonel Quaritch x Na'vi!Reader

Warnings >~< = None, next chapter ;)

'Food.' A green package was dumped on the table in front of where you sat, legs crossed and back to the wall.

The blue soldier stared down at you, eyes flickering to your bandaged tail before snapping back to yours.

He had a hand on his belt, stance wide and sucking the very air from the room, leaving you choked up.

As much as you hated to admit it, he dripped the essence of dominance and assertion, his status here very clearly above yours.

That knowledge made you shield in slightly, ears flat as you looked at each other.

However, no matter how much he made you want to naturally obey his commands, your pride wouldn't allow it.

He was no leader to you.

You lazily looked to the so called 'food' before turning your nose up at it, a scowl set deep on your face.

You heard him sigh, sick of your desire to never listen.

Out the corner of your eye, you saw him shift forward and you immediately tried to shuffle back, the wall preventing you.

He kneeled in from of you, knees a few inches form yours and shoulders shadowing over you.

You still refused to look, aqua eyes set on the wall.

'What you goin' to eat then?' He questioned, hands gesturing in front of him.

You didn't utter a word, brain picking apart his words to understand what he was saying.

'You wanna starve? Kill yourself before you even make it back home?' He prodded, pushing for any sort of reaction from you other than your silence.

He felt his patience push at your lack of response.

'Fine - don't answer but I aint force feeding no one. I'll only offer food once, refuse and you don't eat.' He stood back up and turned away, tail narrowing missing your face..

Only as he approached the table, hand reaching for the ration, did you finally speak up.

'Hunt' You word lingered in the air but you knew he had heard you.

'I want to hunt.' You clarified, eyes trained on him as he looked over his shoulder at you.

'You think you behave well enough for me to allow you to hunt?' He turned slowly, disbelief clear on his features. You narrowed your eyes, fists clenching.

'I hunt or starve.'

'This has a tracking devise in it, you try anything and we'll be able to track you, understand?' He shouted, the wind blowing loud and hard as he tapped the collar around your neck.

You looked at him, eyes widening but no answer.

'Do you understand?' His Na'vi was slow and broken but you understood his question, shaking your head.

'Spider! Tell her what I said.' He waved, head turning away and facing the open side of the helicopter.

Never before had you ever been in one, the place small but littered with guns, ammo and seats. You observed your surroundings as Spider translated the Colonel's words.

Once you gave the green light that you understood, you felt the flying machine lower, the ground coming closer and closer.

You crawled closer to the opening where the colonel kneeled, watching in amazement at the sea below - the clear water never looking better.

You had missed it deeply.

The Colonel watched you quietly, making sure you didn't hang too far out the helicopter from your sitting position, your hair whipping around your face and neck.

It was then that he saw you smile for the first time, your cheeks almost turning chubby and revealing dimples as you grinned wildly at the water below.

He then watched as your lips pucker together, oddly cute chirp like sounds leaving them.

Finally shifting his gaze down, he saw exactly what you were doing.

You were calling to them, the creatures that lived below the surface of the water - who flew up and out the blue abyss, scales reflecting the light and sparkling.

A giggle left you at the splashing sounds from below, long snake like things answering your calls with their own.

By now part of the crew had gathered to see the interaction - Spider included.

You sensed the looming boy over your shoulder, turning to face him gently.

'Do you want to try?' You asked, smiling at his dumbstruck face.

He nodded and pressed in beside you, shoulder to shoulder.

You showed him how to move his lips and what sound to replicate, his coming out odd but a call nevertheless. Gesturing to the water, you watched as he repeated what you had done.

The colonel watched on, an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach as he watched the two of you interact.

You were teaching him, an almost motherly glow surrounding you as you showed him your ways, laughing when he unknowingly shouted their mating call.

The colonel told himself that his utter interest in you was because you were different, new - an insight into what he wished to find out.

That was the only conclusion he came to.

However it still didn’t explain his softening posture, your eased state allowing him to relax again the side of the helicopter, eyes not missing anything as you basked in a taste of your homeland

'I see your head go under that water, I will not hesitate to shoot you. You have half an hour before I want to back on the chopper.' The colonels voice was gruff as he gave you strict orders, tail whipping around him and hand on his gun.

During the ride here, Spider had so graciously blessed you with a quick english refresh, pointing to things on the flying machine.

Helicopter.

Gun.

Shoot.

Dead.

Ocean.

Colonel.

That was how you learned that the blue soldier who seemed to be in charge of you was called a 'Colonel'.

Sky people did always have such odd names.

You nodded at the orders given to you, quickly turning and beginning to walk thigh-deep into the clear water below.

You made sure your tail was up and didn't graze the water, not wanting to be shouted at by the 'colonel' for getting your bandage wet.

You tried to forget about the four guns aimed directly at you, not wanting that to effect a good hunt.

Drawing your knife, the one the colonel threw at your feet after you all left the helicopter, you kept it at your side ready.

Positioning yourself in a stance for balance, you watched the water ripple in waves, looking for movement and shadows beneath the surface.

Once your eyes landed on your target, you felt your body shoot adrenaline through you as your hand holding the knife shot through the water and straight through the fish.

Instantly lifting it up and out the water, your other hand grabbed the body as you removed the knife before plunging it deep between its head and body, stopping all it's movement.

Once you was sure it was dead, you turned and threw it ashore, landing it next to Spider. The boy grimaced at the fresh kill before picking it up by the tail and holding it.

You repeated that until you heard the Colonel bark to you that it was time to go.

Your ears flattened at his voice, your grip on the knife loosening in defeat as you turned to him.

You had almost forgot why and how you where here.

Despite his words, you didn't find it in yourself to move, the waves of the sea brushing up along your legs.

Immediately sensing your disobedience, the Colonels ears flattened in anger, his face set with a deep scowl.

'I won't tell you again, move it!' His tail whipped left and right, his body rigged with tension as he pointed to the helicopter. You clenched your fists before you looked at the 4 blue soldiers behind him.

They were all waiting for you to make a move, wanting a reason to raid your body with bullets.

But you refused to give it to them.

It felt wrong walking back to the land, like you were walking straight to deaths door, your coffin waiting to lock you inside until you breathed your last breath.

You kept your eyes down as you sheepishly held out the knife to the Colonel, not having the strength to face his angry eyes.

You could practically feel them glaring at you as he snatched the weapon away before his large hand grabbed your upper arm, dragging you along as he walked to the helicopter.

You didn't resistant or whine at his tough grip, just trailed behind quietly.

'How can you eat that raw?' You watched as Spider poked his tongue out and looked away, your eye brows furrowing at his question.

'You don't?'

'No!'

You shrugged before chewing on another slice of fish. You were back where you had woken up before, mask around your neck and your kill gutted and bagged for you.

You were in a different room this time - this one having a massive window to view outside and littered with glowing machines, people sitting behind them on chairs.

You had one hand tied to a pole, the orange plastic digging into your skin as you sat on the floor.

Spider was with you as well, although he had no restraints. You wondered why as you ate, watching him.

He seemed conflicted but you didn't bug or pry, looking away when he felt your gaze.

Up ahead, you saw the Colonel talking to another sky creature, the size comparison vast. His shoulders were set wide, his back to you.

His body was muscle upon muscle, something you hadn't seem much off. The people from your village were slim and fast, strength wasn't as valuable as speed.

You couldn't help but observe his movements. The way each muscle was highlighted under his clothes, very obviously there, drew you in.

You didn't notice Spider's eyes on you until he cleared his throat in a almost condescending way.

You looked to him quickly, acting as if you hadn't been staring at the man who practically kidnapped you.

'So, I was thinking more about your escape plan.' Your ears perked up.

'You should use the vents, they're those things near the ceiling' He nodded to where they were.

'They're in every room for ventilation and with your height, you'd have no problem climbing one - only issue is I have no idea which way you'd have to go.'

You looked down as he spoke, absorbing his words and envisioning your escape.

'I’ll do it.' You spoke quickly, looking up and at him.

'Did you hear what I said about-' You nodded briskly, hair moving from your emphasis.

Spider watched you for a few more seconds, his eyes unsure before blowing out a breath.

'Ok, ask to use the bathroom. There should be a vent in there.' He looked to the Colonel before back at you and you understood what you had to do.

Dropping your food, you turned to the blue soldier ahead.

'Colonel!' Your accent was heavy as you spoke but you saw his ears twitch nevertheless.

He looked over his shoulder at you, eyes hooded and checking over you to make sure nothing bad had happened before turning to his superior.

'Lieutenant.' He nodded respectfully before beginning to make his way over to your eager form sat on the floor.

Stopping in front of you, he looked down at your staring light eyes.

'Yes?'

'Bathroom. Please?' You pulled at you restraint slightly as if to remind him.

The colonel looked towards his son, who refused to even acknowledge his existence and then back at you before nodding once, eyebrows raised.

You watched as he leaned over you, his body seeping warmth, and undid the handcuff. Taking your arm in his grip, he helped pull you to your feet.

You took a second to shake your legs, your seat on the floor making them numb slightly.

The colonel watch the flesh move before catching himself and looking away, ears flattening.

Deeming yourself ready, you nodded at him - offering your arm for him to hold and pull you.

Not expecting your willingness, he eyed you cautiously before talking it down to you really needing to go in his head and beginning to direct you to the bathroom.

'I’ll wait here.' You saw him nod at you once you had made it down the hallway and in front of a door.

Wasting no time, you pushed it open and closed it again behind you.

Immediately your eyes darted to the walls, zeroing in on the small square in the far corner. It was above this thing on the ground that had a hole in it.

You looked over it quickly to deem that it was safe to stand on before using it as a boost to reach the vent.

Your hands shook slightly as you pried the thing open as quietly as possible.

The dark abyss before you threw you off slightly but you shook your head and continued on. There was no going back now.

It was easier that you guessed as you crawled your way in, the space big enough to manoeuvre enough in. However you struggled to lift your waist up, grunts leaving you as you tried again and again.

Huffing, you rolled onto your back instead, using your hands to pull yourself further in.

Everything was going good when you suddenly caught you knee on the top of the vent, a loud bang echoing in the air. You stilled immediately, ears twitching to see if the door was being opened.

It was silent, until the door of the vent fell, a loud and very evident crash! piercing through the room, the metal dropping harshly to the floor.

You then knew you didn't have a second to waste, flipping back over and trying to crawl further, forearms and elbows already sore from the friction.

The Colonel’s ears perked at the loud bang echoing from the room you had entered not even 2 minutes ago.

Gritting his teeth, he flung open the door, knowing that you didn't know locks were a thing.

His eyes immediately landed on your legs hanging out the vent, his fists clenching at his sides.

'You'll never stop with these cheap tricks huh?' He practically growled before pouncing over to you, tail swinging behind him.

You gasped when you felt your calves being grabbed by two hands, using their strength to pull you back. You placed your hands on either side of the vent, refusing to go any further down.

It was obvious the Colonel had come to get you.

'No!' You shouted down at him, beginning to kick your legs form his grip. Between your wiggling and trying to crawl away, you were able to shake him off.

Drawing your knees up as much as you could to escape his grabbing hands, you looked down at his angry face - panting out.

Your connected eyes, his narrowed ones set on your almost curled up body before he hissed at you, hand still attempting to reach you.

You made sure to tuck your tail before turning away and making your way down the vent, the surface cold against your skin.

'You get back here!' Your ears twitched painfully as the colonels voice shook the walls around you but you continued.

You were finally getting out of here.

Just rewatched Avatar 2 (yayy) and realised that the time of events so far means that they're on a ship - if that makes sense. Before I was writing as if they were at camp, but they're not!

Part 5

Kofi <33

@namor-is-the-way @kimqueenofhell @simplefools @gremlinfuck @jupekali @cypherpt5fttaehyung @pturnersblog @girlblogger2002 @inkareds @lovejessejay @applesnbannasss @spookyspecterino @the-wafaa-blog @esposadomd @hungrh

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verycharismaticdragon · 8 months

Text

Been thinking about Luo Binghe. As one does, but in this particular instance of why, waaaaaay before I actually like... understood large portions of his character and themes tied to it, I still came out of the novel having imprinted on him.

Because I've talked lately about how important it is to read deeply to actually understand him, but I definitely didn't do that on my first read. He was absolutely as confusing and weird to me as to any of the ppl that hate on him, I just. didn't feel the same despite seeing the same picture.

And after mulling this over, I think this is due to his character soothing a very particular anxiety for me. As a mentally ill neurodivergent person - and I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one of those who feel this way - I have definitely wondered at times if I was much more difficult to love than ye average neurotypical. Not in the way of mental illness making one feel unlovable (though dam it sure does that.), but more in the "woah my symptoms are sure a handful to deal with, hard to imagine someone would sign up to do all that work on a life partnership scale" way.

And you see, in media you definitely get (positively portrayed) characters who have a similar problem. But the authors don't really... manage to portray those characters' concerns as having weight. Because they shy away from making those characters symptoms, well, too problematic - lest they actually become unlovable for the audience.

MXTX, however, goes full throttle with Luo Binghe. He's undeniably, glaringly difficult. He does so many things that he really shouldnt have (that he instantly regrets, actually), quite a few of those hurting the person he loves. He gets in his head so much he nearly causes an apocalyptic event over that person saying 'uh-huh' to someone else without even meaning it. He needs constant reassurances. "A handful" doesn't begin to describe him.

And... throughout all of that, he is loved. We are in the head of a guy who loves him. Who gets exasperated, and doesn't understand, and goes through a lot of shit because of Luo Binghe - and yet never stops just, loving him and caring about him, whatever happens.

So Luo Binghe is someone who is genuinely difficult to love - portrayed so without pulling any punches. Definitely more difficult than an average nd guy like me or u. But. He is portrayed as deserving of - and receiving - unconditional, boundless, and eventually commited love anyway. Even when it is actually, forgive the overused quote, rotten work.

He gets to have that.

Yeah, no fucking wonder I tucked him into my ribcage right next to my heart even before I really understood why.

#and once u actually start excavating the layers mxtx put in he is soooo interesting and fun #but even before that he really got me #luo binghe #svsss #svsss meta #(admittedly this is more 'svsss things i should probably talk thru in therapy' but still)

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dragoncookies · 2 months

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The Unlocked Healing Center Scene

There are many, MANY scenes in which you could pick apart the ever-loving shit out of Fitz's dialogue and his actions, or just look at how his character is treated from the POV the scene is being told from and compare that to what objectively might be happening.

But one of my favorite's has got to be the Unlocked healing center scene from Keefe's POV, because GOLLY was Fitz just bagged on in that scene, in an almost undetectable way.

(This also isn't meant to be hate on Keefe btw. He's a fine character, not my absolute favorite, but there's no reason to hate on him. It just so happens that Keefe's POV of Fitz is especially patronizing in this scene).

First of all, Shannon starts the scene with presenting us with how lonely and sad he was, just straight up:

”sadness

Nervousness

Regret

Loneliness

Plus a hefty dash of anger.

Coming straight from Fitz” (-Unlocked, idk what page lmao).

I mean, the man was grieving. He just broke up with his maybe girlfriend AND lost the only chance he had to finding his terrorist older brother (who might or might not want to end him and who has caused him and his family immense stress/trauma for the past 4 books if not their entire lives to a degree) in one fell swoop (because of the maybe girlfriend he trusted a lot, not to mention Fitz values trust almost more than he does love so you could basically say the girl he loved).

Me personally? I would just cease to exist after that, but here we have sad, nervous, regretful, lonely and angry Fitz in the healing center waiting for his maybe-bro to wake up.

Once Keefe DID wake up, Fitz was nothing if not worried for Keefe and trying to comfort Keefe. Fitz was obviously GENUINELY worried for Keefe. Look at this:

”Fitz tore a hand through his boringly perfect hair. ‘I get why your mad. But I’m only trying to help. I know what you’re going through-‘

’Right-you totally know what it’s like to have you mom do deadly experiments on you,’ Keefe muttered. ‘I must’ve forgotten that part of the Vacker history.”

’Maybe not,’ Fitz conceded, ‘but I know what it’s like to have a traitor in the family. And I also remember how scary it is to wake up in one of these cots after being brutally attacked-just like I know how hard it is to talk about what’s wrong, because it feels like you’re admitting the Neverseen beat you. But they only win if you keep pretending everything’s normal, because you end up making the damage permanent.’

’I’m not damaged-‘

‘You’re right. That’s the wrong word.’ Fitz blew out a breath. ‘Look, all I’m trying to say is that I wouldn’t be walking right now if I hadn’t let Elwin help me. I probably wouldn’t even be alive. So I want to make sure you get the help you need-and you do need it, Keefe. No matter what you believe. But accepting help doesn’t make you weak. It just means you’re taking care of yourself.’”

Such an underrated Fitz moment, imo.

First and foremost, lets just take a second to point out the "boringly perfect" hair comment. I don't know why this stuck out to me, but it shows how differently these two characters think. While Fitz has his hair styled "perfectly" because its been his lifestyle to maintain a perfect façade, here we can see that Keefe STILL doesn't understand just what goes beyond this perfect façade of Fitz's. Keefe values freedom, loves rebellion, and his hairstyle reflects that. Keefe makes it messy, but a masterpiece. To Keefe, Fitz's hair is just generic and standard. Perfect, well presenting, but it follows the standard of whatever is considered "perfect" to elves, so we can see that it is repulsive to Keefe's nature.

This is much the same as how much Keefe sees the scale of what Alvar's disappearance has done to the Vacker Family. Keefe continues to reject the idea that the Vackers aren't as perfect as he once believed. As soon as Fitz even mentioned the idea of empathy for Keefe, the idea of relating to him, Keefe immediately rejects it, and rejects the idea that Fitz could have gone through any mental/emotional turbulence as a result of the horrendous situations Alvar has put him and his family through. I mean, for crying out loud, Fitz had literally tried to kill his brother in an emotional mess of conflicting feelings and guilt just two books ago, and unheard of crime for the elves. Fitz had to spend weeks and WEEKS in the healing center. Keefe was there when Alvar, on his deathbed, described how the "Vacker Legacy" was what drove him to a life of crime.

Yes, Keefe was having a rough time to put it lightly, but taking it out on others isn't justified (if you want to be mad at Fitz for taking his anger out on others, now you have to be mad at Keefe for taking his emotional distress out on his friend). We can certainly understand it, but we can't justify it, and because the POV is from a likable character, we're more willing to trust what the character says. Since Keefe presents Fitz's actions in a way that makes them seem appalling and jerk-y, and if Keefe presents this idea in his POV that Fitz is always Mr. Perfect and never has trouble in his family, then the readers are more likely to believe that. Objectively, based on what Fitz is saying and doing, we can see he's struggled and is struggling a lot. Fitz had to have worked on learning to receive help himself (asking for help is a SKILL, believe it or not) in order to truly explain how important it is to Keefe in the way he did.

Who just says "Accepting help doesn't make you weak, it just means you're taking care of yourself" and doesn't mean it in the kindest, most sincerest way ever?

Not just Keefe can take this advice, anyone should.

Side note: I also feel like he gave himself bad flashbacks to when he called Sophie damaged in book two when he accidentally used the word here. Ouch.

At another point in this scene, Keefe also shows how irrational he can be, as Fitz is simply trying to do the right thing and get Keefe the help he needs, and Keefe is ABSOLUTELY DEMONIZING Fitz for it. Keefe's health was Fitz's priority, and Fitz didn't necessarily care if he stepped on Keefe's toes to get him the help that he couldn't see he needed (Sophie was in the room as this point):

Unlocked page 561:

“‘Uh, you should probably step back, Sophie,’ Fitz warned. ‘I think your emotions are too strong for him.’

’No, they’re not!’ Keefe argued-and wow,did his voice sound strained. He cleared his throat and tried again. ‘Nothings wrong. I swear, I’m fine.’

’He keeps saying that,’ Fitz told her-because he was begging for a face-punch. And if the world hadn’t gotten so spinny, Keefe might’ve given it to him when Fitz added, ‘But Keefe’s been picking up all our emotions without even trying. And he’s always been able to do that with you, so I think you’re overwhelming him right now.’

’Okay, I’m done liking Captain Perfectpants,’ Ro announced.

‘Keefe was right there with her-which was probably why he blurted out, ‘Uh, for the record, most of the emotions are coming from you, Fitzy. You wouldn’t happen to have some unresolved feelings for anyone in this room, would you?’”

I'm not gonna lie, if somebody read my emotions and called me out on something that I was VERY touchy about, and was a relatively new blow, I would just leave the room. That was an A class jerk move right there.

Not saying Keefe IS a jerk, because all the characters have acted jerk-y in the series and everyone has their moments, but it was still pretty rude of Keefe to make that comment. What’s annoying is that nobody in the books seemed to react as though it is rude when Keefe makes these kinds of comments. If it was anybody else who had said that, there would be an apology required in order for that character to be redeemed.

Keefe also literally wanted to PUNCH Fitz, because Fitz was...making sure Keefe stayed alive? Because Fitz cared enough about Keefe's health to make sure the details were pressed out and make sure the facts of the situation were clear? So Elwin could actually do his job??

Keefe hated Fitz in this moment because Fitz was being a practical, helpful guy, but from Keefe's perspective it just makes Fitz look like an asshole.

Ro’s unsolicited opinions are also very unhelpful, since Ro is written to be in support of what Keefe wants (or just in support of whatever will make Sokeefe happen…she’s kind of creepy about her Sokeefe obsession ngl), it makes her more likable and therefore the readers are more likely to trust what she says or take her opinion as their own.

But Ro saying things like “I’m done liking Captain Perfect Pants” is rude, because it 1), insinuates she will only like someone based on how much they please her, and 2) denotes him to his perfect facade, which undermines his brilliant and complex character.

Eventually, Keefe tried to apologize to Sophie in a telepathic conversation. He didn’t remotely consider apologizing to Fitz.

I mean, Keefe was crazy terrified and hurting but...I don’t get how when Fitz was hurt and acted out he was suddenly “toxic and trash”, but when Keefe did the exact same thing nobody said anything.

And nobody even knows Fitz is hurt because nobody asks him. Nobody talks to him about how hard the Alvar situation is for him because they’re scared he’ll just get mad and yell at them, or they just assume he’s just mad about it and wanted to kill Alvar.

Is nobody going to see that there’s some deep emotional/mental trauma to unpack here? Is he always just going to have to help himself all the time?

At least Keefe has people who understand him, who are willing to talk to him about what’s wrong and help him through it. He had a seriously traumatic childhood, and I’m not comparing their trauma or anything, that’s not what I’m trying to do. What I am trying to say is, Keefe’s got a whole crew of people helping him, people who want to make sure he’s okay, people who care for him, and he rejects it, deems them annoying in Fitz’s case, and just discounts the effort and energy they spend on him.

There is a lot more to unpack from this scene, but it’s mostly all along a similar vein of what I talked about here (this is long enough haha). There are also tons of little details about the Vackers in Unlocked that just emphasize how pressured Fitz is into the Vacker mold, and how the Alvar drama just makes it worse.

For example: reading Fitz’s registry file, it says that it is “highly suggested that he choose someone on his match list” because of how dragged the Vacker name already is. So when people want to get upset with him for choosing "his reputation over Sophie", we have text evidence that its more complicated than that. Fitz isn't just choosing between being liked by the world and the person he likes, he's choosing whether or not to maintain a level of peace within his family at his own sacrifice. SPOILERS! (if you haven't read stellarlune don't read the rest of this paragraph). Eventually it was his sacrifice, because as of stellar lune, Sokeefe is official. Fitz couldn't repair things with Sophie quick enough, so she moved on.

It also mentions in Keefe’s detention slip write ups about how people actually hassle Biana and Fitz at Foxfire for Alvar being apart of the Neverseen. Because of their family, because of the Alvar drama, Fitz and Biana can't go to school without people bullying them.

Theres also this sad note in Fitz’s Base Quest instructions where Fitz writes about how you can use you special abilities while playing base quest, but included a little side note that said “but it's no fun when you turn invisible the whole time and hide Alvar!” Which just insinuates that Alvar would turn invisible and leave to go do whatever else he wanted while Fitz still thought they were playing. :(

Depressing.

#kotlc #fitz vacker #keeper of the lost cities #keefe sencen #kotlc headcanon #kotlc fitz #sophie foster #kotlc sophie #kotlc stellarlune #kotlc keefe #kotlc unlocked #kotlc unraveled #kotlc keefe sencen #kotlc fandom

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