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forever--darling · 1 year

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the outsider | neteyam x avatar!reader

summary: tension can only run so thick, so suffocatingly so until it brings you down with it. or so high until it snaps. after weeks of learning, it's clear that nothing has changed between you and neteyam. he still treats you like the outsider you are and after stepping on his toes just enough and with the help of lo'ak it seems all of the tension has built just high enough. so much so, it eventually snaps right in your face.

pairings: neteyam x avatar!reader

word count: 12.0k

warnings/notes: swearing, angst, slow burn, jealous neteyam with a splash of attitude, a flirting lo'ak (the usual), lo'ak x avatar!reader (one-sided), arguing, minor fluff

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

Pandora is so much more than the biology and the greed it had portrayed itself as for so long to the sky people. It’s so much more than all of it. It's about reading the trails, the tracks of the land, the tiniest scents and sounds. There is this constant flow of energy within everything: the spirits of animals, of the Omatikaya, and the way it all connects with the planet. That deep connection of the forest resides with the people. Neteyam talks about that network of energy and how it flows between all living things. He says that all energy is only borrowed and one day it has to be given back.

It's something you couldn’t fully understand through the journals and the video logs. It’s something no real sky person can understand until they live it. That’s what you were doing, every day. Living. Jake was right that at some point it all becomes backwards like out there is the true world, and in here is the dream. That had become your life — somehow overnight, within a month, you had felt like you had become a completely different person and you weren’t even close to being finished with your training.

The days began to blur together and before you had even known it, it had been a month. Four weeks of lessons and four weeks of settling into this completely different life. You were faster, your feet had gotten tougher and you were able to run farther every day. You had to learn to trust your body to know what to do, something you had been told the very first day.

With Neteyam, it's keep your mouth shut and learn fast or die. So you learned how to do that. No more getting angry with him and his attitude or questioning what he says. You just shut up and do it. It became easier for everyone that way. In fact, you had never even addressed that second day with one another. The day you had first rode a direhorse. No, after a few hours spent washing the mud away, you returned after dinner ready to learn again. He made you stay late that night and work on your pronunciation and it was never mentioned again. You had fallen asleep in front of the camera that night, the video log still running and Norm had to help you to bed.

That was another thing. Norm and Max were still making you do those and they had become far easier, your ability to speak your mind freely in front of a camera felt as if you were just talking to another person. It was natural, honest, and what they were meant for — real concrete evidence for the study. Your change was noticeable and everyone in that lab could see it. Max and Norm especially as your video logs had become longer and more animated, going on and on about energy and the relationships within the forest as well as the biology.

They saw Grace in you those nights. It was the tone in your voice, how you swung your hands around in the air as you talked about these people. Specifically, they took note of how you talked about the eldest Sully son, the future clan leader. You were still convinced he didn’t like you in the slightest but no one would ever believe you based on those video logs that you felt the same about him.

It had been a month and though you hadn’t had any more arguments, and continued to follow what he said, you were sure his hatred for you hadn’t lessened at all. He was bossy just as Kiri had told you the second day you were here and moody but he held it all in, sticking to his role with perfection. He didn’t budge an inch and it was difficult for you to get anything out of him about himself. It was like conversations about anything other than the Na’vi culture or your lessons were prohibited. If you tried or asked anything unrelated to that, he would give you this stern look; his brows furrowed, lips formed into a fine line. You would drop it then and there. Over the past four weeks though, you noticed more and more that the only person he ever gave that look to was you. Sure, he liked to put his brother in his place more than anyone but still, you were the only one he would look at that way.

“Again.”

His voice was unwavering, his eyebrows raised as he nodded at the bow in your hands. You sighed under your breath, already feeling the soreness within your muscles after having already pulled it back so many times that day. You knew why the lesson had gone too long though, you were unfocused, missing the target with pore posture. A posture that you both had spent hours upon hours for weeks perfecting. Just a few days ago you hit the target's center with a strong core and fingers that weren’t ripped open from the chord of the bow.

Somehow things had changed, your habits had reverted and you hadn’t hit the target once that day. Your biceps were tired from the constant pulling on the muscles, and you were sure your fingers were bleeding due to how the string rubbed against them. He wouldn’t let you go until you hit the target once. Only a few more lessons until he would allow you to go hunting for real.

“Pull back the bow, Y/N,” he stepped closer, eyes staring holes in the side of your face.

You were so close to rolling your eyes, so close, but then you remembered that he was already on edge and any sudden movements could piss him off. Instead, with a deep inhale, one that brought out a crack in your voice, you pulled your arm back stretching out the bow. You have to bite your tongue from wincing at the way the muscles in your back stretch creating pain, just as the already blistered skin of your fingers rubs further against the string of the bow. Based on the way Neteyam’s ear flickered and his eyes scanned your form, you knew it wasn’t good, possibly all wrong. You held the position though as he began to circle you, eyeing you from a different angle.

He gripped your forearm of the arm that held the bowstring, pushed it up higher, and stared at it for a second to ensure you kept it where he placed it. The burning between your shoulder blades worsened. You continued to stare forward knowing that if you turned your head to look at him he would just make you turn it back. He circled you again, his hand pressing firmly against your stomach, the touch making you shiver slightly at the contact. If he had noticed it, he didn’t react in any way. His palm pressed against your abdomen just above your belly button and pushed in to signal to you that you needed a stronger core. Something he knew he didn’t have to tell you after all these weeks.

“Better?” you asked, but he ignored you fully and instead walked around you so he was no longer in front of you but behind you. You felt his breath on the back of your neck and his hands ghosting over your sides.

Taking in a deep breath, you let your eyes flutter to a close, trying to ignore how badly you wanted to drop the position, to let your back and your arms rest. You knew better than to go against what he said so even though you could feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, you remained still, back arm pulled up high and core flexed.

“What the hell happened these last few days?” he snapped, his voice gravely within your ear.

“What?” you turned your head slightly but before you could ask anymore a gasp was being ripped from your throat as his hands took a hold of your waist and pulled you flush against his chest. You stiffened underneath the foreign touch as after all these weeks, Neteyam had never once communicated through physical touch. He only really touched you when he couldn’t explain through words.

It was surprising how hard his grip was on your skin and how it seemed to rip a shiver out from you, starting at the base of your spine and traveling to your neck. “Your back needs to be straight like this. We’ve gone over this. It’s like you don’t listen to a fucking thing I say.”

His hand wrapped around you pressing against your stomach, demonstrating the way your back was straight and pressed up against his chest. “Not slouched and definitely not arched. Your pullback is weakened, which I thought I had taught you at least a week ago.”

He stepped away, clicking his tongue and though the burning was now completely unbearable, you kept it. This time your back remained straight even without his body pressed up against it, reinforcing it. Walking around you one more time he nodded in approval. You kept your eyes forward, staring at the target on the tree that Neteyam had marked two weeks ago when you started bow training. You felt like your arm was going to snap in half and like you were running out of breath, but you waited and waited for him to ensure that everything was perfect. Taking in a deep breath, you felt your abdomen contract and the string rub even worse against the blisters.

His eyes shifted from the side of your face to the target on the tree. He leaned forward and lowered his voice, “Release.”

At the sound of his voice, you exhaled and let go of the string, letting the bow snap just as you felt your back was going to. The arrow plunged forward, quicker than you could follow but you felt a pit form in your stomach. As well as the need to scream in frustration as you didn’t hear the thunk it usually made when it hit the tree, piercing the bark. Instead, it flew by the side of it by no more than an inch, disappearing into the bush. You had missed the target and the entire tree, which meant your aim was completely off.

“Fuck,” you groaned, your arms dropping to your sides, “That’s like the fourth time I’ve missed today.”

“Go again.” That was all he said and somehow that alone made you forget about your pact with yourself to not piss him off.

You glared over at him, “No.”

“No?” he tested the word, it made his tail swish in annoyance and his head tilt to the side.

“No,” you repeated, “I am not going to go again. My body is killing me.”

“And who’s fault is that?” he shot back, eyebrows raised as he crossed his arms over his chest. You noticed the way his biceps bulged but quickly looked away, worried he would see it. “I don’t know what’s been going on the last few days, but you have to get it together because we don’t have time for this. We can’t afford for you to take two steps back every time you get something right.”

“It’s not like I am doing it on purpose,” you sighed, peering down at your fingers to find that the blisters had broken open. You hissed as they brushed against one another.

“I don’t believe that,” he said, challenging your every word.

“Are you serious right now?” Your face pinched together in both surprise and anger.

He wasn’t being kind in the least but an annoying pain in your side. It was like he wanted you to yell in his face and tell him that he was wrong. It was like he was doing everything in his power to make you snap and scream at him. To scream and walk away. Almost as if he found satisfaction in your frustration. The slight quirk in his lips proved that. Though he was exasperated with you, a part of him found this completely amusing.

“Then what is it?”

“What is what?”

He took a step forward, so close that if you leaned any closer your chest would brush against his arms that still sat firmly crossed. His gaze narrowed at you but you didn’t look away this time. “You’re distracted. Unfocused. There’s something clearly on your mind and I am getting fucking tired of it.”

“Excuse me?” you asked.

You were unfocused because of him. He was making you crazy and even when you weren’t here, you were constantly thinking about the village, about him, about the fact that he hated you. He hated you and you had no idea why. That’s why you were so unfocused.

“You’re wasting my time. The longer it takes for you to learn, the more of my time you’re wasting. So whatever is distracting you, you need to fix it. Do you understand me?” he explained, not backing down from you but neither were you.

His words had completely pierced through your skin to the inside of your body and if he kept looking at you like that, you were sure that at any moment you would give in to him completely. If that spring in your stomach would snap, you weren’t sure if you would slap him across his face or do something else. Something far more stupid than the former and something you knew you wouldn’t be able to take back.

Instead, you held your composure, your pettiness rising to an all-time high as you lifted your hand to rest against your chest. Your expression softened for a few seconds as if you actually felt bad for him. Like at that moment you were pitying the great warrior and the fact that he had to deal with you.

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t realize that you were the only one that has actual problems. I’m sorry that you have to hold up so much on your shoulders all by yourself. Oh, poor Neteyam. Poor future Olo’eyktan Neteyam. Your life is so hard.”

He fumed and it was clear for a moment he had fallen for your soft eyes and puckered lips. For a single moment, he thought you were being serious, but at the end of your sentence with the shift in your tone, he realized you were just being condescending. You were trying to hit him where it hurts, piss him off more than he already was. His arms fell to his sides, his hands tightening into fists as his breathing became more erratic. He glanced from your ears to your mouth and he realized all that he saw when he looked at you was fire.

You chuckled in annoyance, your hand tightening around the bow in your hand. Glancing down at it, you looked back up at him to see him still staring right through you, chewing on the bottom of his lip enough to make it bleed. He could taste the blood but he didn’t stop.

“You know what,” you paused and shoved the bow in his chest as hard as you could, “I think we’re done for today.”

He didn’t even flinch or shift backward but just took it from you anyway. No other words were expressed and all he could focus on was the fading sound of your footsteps as you stomped away. As soon as you were far enough away, he chucked the bow to the ground as hard as he could. He groaned and as much as he got under your skin, you left a permanent imprint on his.

Staring down at the bow, he cursed at himself. He had touched you. He had let his hands linger and pull you flat against his chest when you both knew he could have actively told you in minimal words what to do. Instead, he did the worst thing he could do. It was like he could still feel your warm smooth skin under his hands and your firm back pressed against his chest.

He screamed again, angry at himself and even more infuriated with you. He shouldn’t think of you that way, especially when you did nothing but make his life more difficult. You were talkative and argued with him, and did everything you could to waste his time. At least in his eyes, that’s what you were doing.

You made it back to the village just as the sun was setting, still stomping, cursing profanities underneath your breath. People stared at you as you walked by as they always did even after a month. They didn’t approach you. Some of them had started to in the past week and it was a great way to practice the language but they were still timid. Even now they were able to point out that your brows were furrowed, your lip tucked away in between your teeth and you walking too aggressively to not be upset. They watched, mumbling to one another as you walked, your tent the only place in mind to go.

Even the youngest Sully son could hear you from a few feet away and he stared as you approached him. You were stuck in your thoughts, talking to yourself, that cute angry look plastered across your face. He more than anyone noticed the pinched look and the fierceness that occupied your eyes. He also knew more than anyone that the cause was his older brother.

He watched as you walked right by him. Smiling, he called after you, “Y/N.”

“What?” you said, harsher than either of you expected as you spun around to face him. When your eyes met his, your entire body language shifted, the expression on your face softening. “Oh, sorry. Hi.”

“Done with lessons already?” he asked, curiously glancing over his shoulder, surprised to see Neteyam hadn’t followed you out of the forest.

You didn’t respond but instead peered down at your feet, that angry look returning to your face. That furrow in between your brows pinching together as your ears twitched. He then glanced around you to see your tail swishing rapidly back and forth.

“You okay?”

Slowly, you lifted your head and met his eyes, the same ones that resembled his brother’s way too much. You didn’t answer that question either, not feeling the slightest bit inclined to discuss it with anyone, especially Lo’ak. You knew it would only make you angry all over again and then you would say something you would regret; either spitting out names you wished to say to Neteyam’s face or worse admitting that you liked the way he handled you a little too much.

“You know you’re cute when you’re angry,” Lo’ak said, voice lowering as he said it.

At that, you felt your shoulders relax and you couldn’t help but smile over at him, his flirting usually annoyed you but at that moment you accepted it willingly. He watched as the sharpness in your eyes and the angry twitch of your tail disappeared. Instead, your head tilted curiously to the side, ears raised high and a small smirk forming on your face.

“Lo’ak,” you warned, staying put as he stepped closer that smug look slapped across his face.

“It’s true,” he said, “Might be even hotter in blue.”

“Watch it,” you laughed, shoving his shoulder.

Your laugh. He took in the sound and realized he could never get over that sound. He also knew that as cute as you were when you were angry, he found you even cuter when you had that smile on your face. He wanted to see more of it. The way your fangs poked out and a gleam entered your gold eyes. He wanted to hear the sound of your laugh again and again. He also knew no matter what Neteyam did, he couldn’t fix it, but more than anything he could distract you from it. Lo’ak was good at many things; getting into trouble, doing all of the things that were opposite of what he was supposed to do, and being a distraction. He was a great distraction.

“You want to get out of here?”

“Lo’ak, it’s almost dark.”

“Great Mother, my brother has made you into such a rule follower,” he rolled his eyes but his smile never left his face. “Oh wait, you’ve always been one of those. Once a fun killer always a fun killer.”

“Lo’ak—”

“We don’t have to go far.”

You closed one of your eyes, swayed from side to side, and tried to keep a smile from reappearing on your face because it would mean he had you right where he wanted you. He would have you giving in and running off with him to who knows where. He was enticing and he knew it. He was a troublemaker and he was asking you to give in to his white smile and his glimmery eyes. It was easy with him and it always had been though anyone else would disagree. They would find Lo’ak difficult, unable to follow the rules, and a complete pain. But he wasn’t that to you. He was Lo’ak — the fun and easy Sully son who just liked to make you smile.

The corners of your lips lifted up and he knew he had you. His ears twitched at that look on your face. “Yes?”

You nodded then. His own smile widened and he walked by you bumping your shoulder with his. He continued forward a few steps and then peered back at you, that smugness as evident as ever. “You coming?”

A part of you wasn’t sure how it had happened. How you had allowed it to happen. One minute you were standing in the middle of the village, just as the sun was setting, and then it was like you blinked and you were somewhere else. In the forest past dinner alone, looking every which way unsure of where to go. The foliage behind you was lit up like a bioluminescence trail of where you had come from and there were so many different creatures and insects lighting up the sky. It all provided so much light and you still had no idea where you were.

You couldn’t believe you had let Lo’ak talk you into this. One moment you were just walking through the forest talking and the next thing you knew he was telling you about this game. Before you could even agree, he was already gone, quietly like a thief into the night.

You felt like you were prey as you had ran and ran, eventually slowing to better calculate your steps. And your predator? Lo’ak. It felt like a weird game but you submitted to it anyway. You were to get back to the village before he could catch you. It was that simple but easy? Not so much. You were looking at the tracks, taking in the scents around you but it felt foreign. Because any moment you felt like you were close, you heard him nearby, getting closer and closer to catching you. Then you would run off, sprint as far as you could in the opposite direction, deeper into the forest, and then you would have to start all over.

Your thoughts shifted to the idea of something else catching you, a real predator, something far more dangerous than Lo’ak but he had assured you that you both would be fine. That you would remain close enough to the village and that it was still too light out for anything to come out and provoke you. Now, as you stared forward at the dark forest with far too many shadows you weren’t as convinced.

Bending down, you let your fingers trace your own tracks in the mud as you looked up all around you. You could just follow them back to where you started and to where it felt safer, but you were hesitant to go back in the direction you were sure he was. You could take a different route, though risking you getting more lost, you could avoid Lo’ak. Where safety would be the better option, you were also just as competitive with a desire to win.

As you were trying to decide in your head, you heard the sound of a twig snap behind you, so loud it had to have been from a person or something else. Your head turned in that direction, your ears twitching hoping to catch any other sound but it was silent after that. Too silent and then it was as if something was watching you and waiting. Waiting for the perfect moment to jump out and claim its prey — you. Slowly, you stood to your feet and took a deep breath, knowing you had to make up your mind fast in case it wasn’t Lo’ak.

After a few seconds, you began to take off, in the opposite direction of the tracks, away from the village and towards the inner depths of the forest. As you run, though, more noises are heard, and they weren’t that far behind you. It was the sound of quick footsteps following you, closely. You felt your heart rate pick up, a small inkling of fear forming as a part of you worried about the worst possible scenario. All you had on you was your knife, your bow you had thrown at Neteyam hours ago. No other weapon to protect yourself in case this had turned into an innocent game gone wrong.

All of your thoughts disappeared though as the sound got louder and then two strong arms were wrapping around your waist, almost making you both fall to the ground. The individual came to a stop and lifted you up off the ground, their grip too tight. You were squirming, able to feel their chest pressed along your back, their blade, from where it sat upon the person’s chest, poking in between your shoulder blades. Your hands fell to where they had you and that’s when you felt their hands. Hands all too familiar to you. Five fingers. You sighed then, relaxing against their form.

“I got you,” Lo’ak announced proudly in your ear as he carefully set you down.

You turned around and punched him in the chest, harder than you normally would. His hand reached up and touched it as if it had actually hurt. Of course, that’s how he had played it too, being the dramatic type, “Ow!”

“You scared me,” you admitted, looking around at the darkness around you, occupied by less flora than there was before.

“You kidding?” he chuckled, following your gaze to find nothing around you but trees and plants, “It’s fine. We’re fine. There’s nothing to be scared of.”

“I just…” your voice trailed off as it all came back to you. He was right. It wasn’t that late and you weren’t entirely that far from the village but there was still that feeling in your stomach. That this was wrong and that something could have happened despite how fun it had felt at first. “Can we go?”

He noticed the shift in your tone and suddenly he realized that your feelings had changed. “Yeah. Yeah, we can go. We probably should anyway. I think we’re late for dinner.”

You nodded but then let some of that fear fade from your face, replaced by a smirk he knew all too well, “Race you back to the village?”

A smile began to form on his face but before he could respond, you took off bolting in the direction where you both had come from. You didn’t make it very far though. Maybe a total of two feet before you collided straight into something, or in actuality someone. The person shifted backwards a couple of steps to steady themselves in addition to you. Their hands moved up to take your shoulders in them. Their grip was firm and you hissed under your breath as you happened to recognize their touch as easily as you had recognized Lo’ak’s.

Slowly, lifting your head, you felt your stomach drop as you found an angry Neteyam looking down at you. Not as angry as he had been earlier that day when you left him alone in the forest but it was close, too close. It was like steam was going to come out of his ears any second, and there was a permanent crinkle in his nose. His hands didn’t drop from you when he looked up over your shoulder to Lo’ak.

The younger Sully leaned back on his heels, stopping short in front of you, and couldn’t help the way the smile slipped away from his face. His entire body slouched as the look on his face was too entirely familiar, “Shit.”

“What the fuck do you two think you are doing out here?” Neteyam questioned, the tone of his voice making you stiffen under him, “And don’t you dare say having fun Lo’ak or I swear—”

“Well that’s exactly what we were doing,” Lo’ak raised his arms, matching his brother’s tone easily, “Having fun, but oh wait you don’t know what that is, right Neteyam?”

“Lo’ak,” he warned his younger brother as his fangs began to poke out from behind his lips.

“You know you’re the reason we are out here in the first place. If you weren’t running your mouth the way you have been lately then we would be back at the village with everyone else. Instead, though, Y/N needed a break from lessons, the attitude, and the orders. Mostly she just needed a break from you.”

You heard Neteyam growl under his breath as one of his hands dropped from around you, stepping forward intimidatingly so towards his brother. His other hand slid down from your shoulder all the way to your wrist where he kept a firm grip. Not hard enough to hurt you but enough that you couldn’t run off.

“Lo’ak it’s dark. It’s not safe out here.”

“Safe?” Lo’ak laughed, “Are you serious? We’re fine. I can take care of us just fine.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what?”

Neteyam took a deep breath as if trying to calm himself down, not daring to steal a glance at you as he tried to talk down his brother, “It’s almost curfew. There are rules for a reason. You shouldn’t be running around in the dark. Just, please go back to the village.”

“Did Dad order you to come out here? Send you out here to find us and save the day, yet again.”

You couldn’t help but look up at Neteyam as Lo’ak said that, the blow hitting him straight in the chest. His eyes faltered for a second, something flickering in them you couldn’t quite decipher. But then as if it was never there, they hardened again and he didn’t back down. “Lo’ak enough! Mom and Dad make the rules. We don’t. Go home!”

Lo’ak backed down, knowing it was an endless fight he wouldn’t win. As his brother’s words registered in his ears though, he glanced over in your direction and then at Neteyam’s hand that was still wrapped around your arm. “What about Y/N?”

“I need to talk to her for a minute,” he explained, still refusing to look over at you. He hadn’t even asked you but made a decision again for you. “We won’t be far behind you. Only a couple of minutes.”

Lo’ak opened his mouth to argue but Neteyam lifted one of his eyebrows as his lips curled into a scowl revealing his fangs again. You felt his tail flick you at how hard it was moving back and forth. His voice a warning, “Lo’ak.”

You watched as the younger boy raised his hands in the air, surrendering completely. He gave you one more look before he stalked off, hitting his brother’s shoulder as he walked by. You found yourself watching him until he disappeared among the trees and the foliage. As soon as you could no longer see him, you were reminded of the person in front of you and the grip he had on your wrist. Tilting your head up, you found him already looking at you, silently with rage.

You held his stare for a second before you found yourself pulling your arm free from his grasp, “What is wrong with you?”

“Why are you out here with Lo’ak, Y/N?” he took his own question and directed it back at you.

You scoffed, folding your arms over your chest, trying to ignore how that same feeling from earlier returned. The one where you felt like your body was burning. He made you so angry but somehow you knew that what you were feeling deep within your stomach wasn’t anger and it only pissed you off more. “I should have known. You didn’t come out here because your father asked you to, did you?”

“Except that my dad did ask me to come find you and Lo’ak,” he argued.

“Yeah, you said that already. Really there is no other reason?”

He was quiet for a moment, eyes straying from your face and the way you were looking at him, so intensely. You were demanding answers and no one other than Jake asked that of him. Suddenly then, he shook his head as if he had finally found an answer, “No.”

A moment of silence passed between the two of you, a pause before he stepped closer to you. This led to you taking one back, your glare not faltering in the slightest. He asked again, “Why are you out here, Y/N?”

“Ugh,” you yelled as your hands reached up holding your head in them. You inhaled and dropped them back to your sides, letting your next sentence fall freely from your lips without a second thought. "You are fucking unbelievable, you know that? I just don’t get it.”

He turned his head to the side curiously as if silently urging you to go on. He was biting onto his bottom lip so hard, he thought he was going to reopen the cut that had formed earlier while his eyes traced over your face and your pinched expression. A look that was commonly reserved for him. You didn’t look at anyone else that way. He noticed it. He noticed it too often.

“I don’t understand you,” you sighed, your hands forming into fists at your sides, “Everyone goes on and on about their future Olo’eyktan Neteyam Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan. This young warrior who has grown up perfectly into this strong leader. They say he is fiercely loyal, independent, and exceedingly respectful. For weeks I have been hearing people of Omatikaya describe Toruk Makto’s first son as a brave soldier with a strong heart. But for some reason, I haven’t seen any of those things. I have spent all this time with you and this Neteyam they talk so much about I have never met.”

He groaned because once again you were saying things you shouldn’t be saying. Going on and on about things you had no idea about. As if you knew who he was or the type of life he was set up to have, but you didn’t. No one really knew him at all. Everything that people said about him, everything they claimed he was, was handpicked by his father and entrusted to him at a young age. He was chosen to be the future Olo’eyktan which meant he had to be brave, loyal, and respectful. A strong heart. That is what they said about every warrior. It doesn’t mean it’s entirely true.

He doesn’t say anything, not at first. He stands still and holds his ground as he scans your face. His heart begins to speed up in his chest as he watches for a second as the anger dissipates from you. The rage that had settled between you two and that had been going back and forth for weeks was no longer there. Your expression had softened and it was almost as if it had been replaced with desperation. As if you were hanging onto every word you were whispering out loud to him.

“Just why? Why do you act so differently around me? Why do you have to be so difficult?”

His ears perked up at the way you had called him difficult. The brief moment between the two of you, where the anger and the resentment had seemed to disappear because before he knew it, he felt his statue tense up and that familiar feeling that came with arguing with you appeared again. Annoyance. Anger. Fear. It all was there and suddenly his walls were pushed back up to where they were before. Shown in the way he chose his next words.

You opened your mouth as if you were going to say more, but his voice silenced you completely, “It’s because you’re not one of us. You think that I am difficult but it’s only because you don’t belong here. You aren’t one of us and you never will be."

The words pierced through your heart and as you stared up at him in complete shock, you felt them rip your heart completely into pieces. A gasp fell from your lips, your hands wrapping around yourself as if it was the only way to remain standing. The worst of it all was how he stared down at you without even the slightest sign of regret. He said it and he said it without any hesitation and because of it, he cut you so deeply - like he had reached your core.

The Omatikaya had never liked outsiders, you knew that. You knew how they felt. They expressed it visibly and without remorse but, this wasn’t something you were expecting. Especially from him. You didn’t get along, not in the least, but out of anyone who could utter those words to you, you never thought it could be the understanding future clan leader and the son of a past dream walker. But there it was, right in front of you and you couldn’t hide from it any longer. The truth. The truth you had been trying to run from for years and more so this last month. He solidified it for you, no matter how hard you tried, if you managed to pass all the training, you would never be one of them, not truly.

Neteyam watched as all light faded from your eyes. You took a step back from him, your whole body caving in on itself. He shouldn’t have said it. He knew that, but he did it anyway. He put all of his frustration and his anger in one place and somehow that was you. You didn’t want it and you sure as hell didn’t ask for it but it was too late now.

He noticed the way your eyes glassed over, your face was so bright under the flora and it was like he was seeing every one of your emotions under a microscope. A tear slipped past your waterline and he couldn’t help but reach his hand out to you. You looked up at him incredulously, your body becoming cold as you suddenly felt completely exposed, as raw as the blisters on the divots of your fingers. It was like he could see every part of you; every emotion, every weakness, everything you hadn’t granted him permission to see. It was enraging because at that moment he not only had all of you, but he had all of the power.

You watched as his hand froze mid-air stopping from grabbing onto you. His eyes had softened, desperately trying to meet yours but you wouldn’t dare give him anything else. Just as you felt more tears falling from your eyes across your cheeks, you turned around and took off. You ran faster than you had ever had before, the sharp intake of air paired with the quiet whimpers made your lungs burn.

Your legs felt weak and your vision was blurry, so blurry that you found yourself tripping every few seconds but you wouldn’t stop. You couldn’t and within a matter of minutes, you could see the lights from the village accompanied by the sounds of voices. You bursted out through the forest but you couldn’t stop. The ache, the pain that was still ripping through your chest made sure you wouldn’t stop running, not until you were away from it all. You felt eyes on you as you pushed by people, your lungs gasping for air.

You felt your foot get caught on something, digging so deep, and a second later you felt a sting of pain. Even when you knew something had cut you, you couldn’t stop as Neteyam’s words haunted you. They pierced your eyes just as they had your soul. Wiping at your face with your sweaty hands, you cried out just as the pain worsened.

Neytiri, Kiri, and Tuk were standing near your tent waiting for you as they had heard you were talking with Neteyam after he had found you with Lo’ak in the forest. Jake was busy lecturing his youngest son and both of the women wanted to be there in case you were next. They were talking to one another but their conversation was interrupted by the uproar that seemed to be taking over the village. They heard the mumbles and the lingering words from people across the village about you, what they had seen. Soon enough, their attention shifted when they saw you appear sprinting your way through the village.

Kiri called out your name but you blew past them, ignoring her completely, the only thing you could focus on was getting away, far away.

Tuk tried to go after you when you didn’t acknowledge them or even say hi to her, “Why didn’t she stop? I yelled her name loud enough didn’t I?”

Neytiri shared a look with her oldest daughter as they both noticed your tear-stained cheeks. Neither of them said a word though as they looked forward again to find Neteyam emerging from the forest, walking hurriedly towards them, stress evidently strewn across his face. Neytiri’s stare had hardened at her son, connecting the dots rather quickly as you had faded completely from view towards the far side of the village. She still hadn’t fully accepted you, knowing she couldn’t until you proved you could be one of the people, but for weeks she had spent hours upon hours talking about you with Jake.

He told her about your life, where you came from, and the type of person you were. She couldn’t help but become far more understanding than she had been the first night you had arrived in the village. You were a bright young woman, beautiful, with a pure heart and she knew that even if you weren’t one of them yet, she couldn’t stand the thought of you being hurt, let alone because of one of her sons. Somehow she just never thought it would be Neteyam.

He approached them, something heavy clearly weighing on him and within seconds of seeing them, he could see the looks his sister and mother were giving him. They were stern and entirely scary. Neytiri’s ears were flat, lips curled down, her fangs poking out. Kiri stared daggers over at her brother, as she had become the most protective of you over the last few weeks. His eyes widened innocently almost as if he hadn’t don’t anything wrong. They both could see right through him though.

“What did you do?” Kiri asked, her voice demanding as she pointed a threatening finger in his direction.

He didn’t respond but instead looked over at his mother. She lifted a brow up disapprovingly. “Neteyam?”

“You did what?”

Neteyam flinched at the sound of his father’s voice as his stare was locked solely on him. He looked over his father’s shoulder to his mother who stood just a few feet away, arms crossed over her chest expectantly. She had been outside when you had run through the village and it was evident she saw how upset you were. When she asked him herself what had happened, he didn’t have the words to explain. Just as he thought he had found the right words, Jake emerged from their tent, Lo’ak followed him that usual look slapped across his face after having been lectured. His lips were in a fine line, his shoulders slouched, and his head hung low to the ground.

Jake found them standing out there and instantly caught onto the way the two women were looking at Neteyam. He looked around and once he didn’t find you anywhere he knew that something had obviously happened. His eyes narrowed at his oldest son after having just dealt with his youngest and he sighed, cautiously asking where you were. It was that question that led Neteyam to be stuck in his family’s tent with his mother and father both staring at him the way they were after he had told them what he had said.

“I obviously didn’t mean it,” Neteyam argued, voice raising.

“Then why did you say it?” Jake yelled back, eyes drilled onto his eldest son, the one he never had thought would do this.

Neteyam didn’t have an answer for that, instead, he just let his head drop, his eyes finding the ground. Jake exhaled, one that only spoke volumes of disappointment especially since he had spent so much time trying to make you feel comfortable to ensure that you would be okay here. But instead, you were completely exiled but his stupid son.

“Skxawng," Jake stepped forward, examining his son from head to toe, the supposed future Olo’eyktan.

Something had clearly been off ever since you had gotten there and it was then that Jake had finally noticed it. The countless eye rolls, the bickering, the way Neteyam was always tense if you were ever in close proximity. He was pushy, bossy, and insubordinate. Jake glanced over his shoulder at his wife who hadn’t even said a single word since Neteyam had explained what had happened, what he had said. Nothing. As their eyes met, Neytiri nodded toward their son, urging her husband to say something more to make Neteyam fix this.

Turning to look back at Neteyam, Jake took a deep breath to try and calm himself, “Neteyam, look at me.”

The eighteen-year-old boy hesitantly lifted his head but didn’t back down as he met his father’s eyes. Jake’s hand firmly took hold of Neteyam’s shoulder, “What is going on?”

“Nothing,” Neteyam said without hesitation.

“Really?” Jake asked, not believing him in the slightest, “Because ever since she has gotten here, you have been acting differently. You’re distant, hesitant, more annoyed than usual.”

“You told me to teach her and that’s what I have been doing,” Neteyam snapped back, the tone taking both of his parents by surprise, “You want me to be Olo’eyktan one day and you said this is what I have to do. So, that’s what I’ve been doing.”

“You want to be clan leader one day then start acting like it,” Jake said, “This isn’t you, and you know it. Whatever is bothering you, get over it. Do something to get it out of your system. I don’t care what it is. Just figure it out because I am not going to deal with this again, do you hear me, boy? You don’t want to tell us what’s going on… Whatever. Fine. But you will go say something to her, do you understand me? You will go apologize and fix this.”

Neteyam didn’t argue because his father was right. He had been distant, cruel, everything that they hadn’t raised him to be. It was eating away at him for weeks. This anger inside of him, he shoved down for years, slowly coming back up like bile. It was acidic and sickening and yet he didn’t know how to stop it. Instead, he had seen glimpses of it when he was with you. A rage that scared him, spiting out of him when the two of you were together, yelling at you as if you deserved any of it. Because it was easier, easier to take it out on you rather than his father, his siblings, or his village. You were the outsider, the last one in, so why not make you out to be the problem.

It was horrible, wrong in so many ways, and it weighed heavily on his chest as he left his parents' hut ignoring the glares his siblings sent his way. They stood outside listening to every word and he felt the guilt begin to swallow him whole as he stepped into the forest. You hadn’t gone far and within a matter of minutes, he had found you, sat within a tree on a branch, your arms wrapped around your legs. You had them pulled tightly to your chest, your chin pressed against your knees, your head tilted up towards the sky. The air nipped at your face which was stained with tears and you were shivering unable to stop the clattering of your teeth. Your ears were flat, eyes wide and still glassy, and all energy was drained from your body.

He stood afar for a few minutes just taking you in, the way you held yourself, and the diminishment of your frame. The sky was bright enough to reveal your face and the tears still clouding your eyes. Sighing, he walked forward unable to hide the way his footsteps echoed loudly among the trees. It made your ears twitch and due to the sound, your head snapped towards him, arms dropping as your body stiffened.

Below your swinging feet, the ground glowed under his footsteps, his broad figure stalking its way through undergrowth already peering up at you. As your glassy stare met his, your shoulders relaxed, but your frown deepened. Rolling your eyes at him, you wiped at your face trying to hide the tears that still coated your cheeks.

Neteyam felt even worse as he looked at you, realizing his words' full effect on you. Stood just under the tree, he watched as you actively turned away from him, looking back at the sky. He scratched at the inside of his arm nervously, suddenly unsure of what to say to fix this. He couldn’t take it back and wasn’t sure how far an apology would go when he hurt you the way he had.

“Can we talk?” his voice was quiet but firm as he asked the question.

You scoffed at the fact that he would even ask that. You shook your head, “No.”

He looked at you expectantly, noticing how his face pinched together in seriousness, which looked entirely unreadable. He kept his ground though, his golden eyes staring up at you, unwavering.

Sighing, you glanced down at him, the earnestness clear as day. That didn’t stop the image from earlier crossing through your mind. You could still see him snarling, eyes filled with rage, body not showing an ounce of remorse as he managed to say the one thing that could hurt you the most. You are not one of us.

You took in a deep breath, feeling the way your chest began to tighten up again. That lump in your throat was rising and the anxiety began to swarm you. You couldn’t do this. Not anymore.

Sighing, you brushed your hair out of your face, over your shoulder, and stood from where you were sitting. You climbed down from the tree and jumped down, the luminescent green color of the leaves immediately lit up as your skin connected with the plants. Unable to look at him any longer, you stepped by him. As you did though, you heard your name fall off of his tongue lowly, no more than a whisper as he managed to grab your elbow, keeping you from walking any further.

He leaned closer to you and at the feeling of his hand and the sound of his voice, you felt your entire body shift away from him, that pain reappearing in full force. It was like you were being slapped in the face for him to come here out of obligation to his father. Huffing loudly, you ripped your arm from his grasp just as you had earlier on the other side of the village.

“Stop!” you yelled in his face, no longer worried about hiding your face or the betrayal you felt, “Stop saying my name and stop grabbing at me. You have no right. No right to come here after what you said to me.”

“Y/N,” he said it again, this time louder than he had before and you hated the way it made your heart pick up in your chest and your stomach tighten.

Two feelings you were still unable to comprehend when it came to him. It only made you angrier that your body would react to him this way.

“I know you’re here to apologize just because your father told you so, but I don’t want it,” you admitted, a single tear slipping from your eye and falling down your cheek. His eyes followed it as you didn’t bother to wipe it away. “I don’t want your empty apology or your lies. I can’t, okay, so please just go.”

He couldn’t look away from you, his feet somehow stuck to the ground as he took in your face underneath the night sky. Your bottom lip was chewed to the point that the skin was starting to break open. Your face was flushed, eyebrows raised, and a worry line evident in between your eyebrows. Streaks extended down across your cheeks and more tears were slipping past your water line as he refused to walk away from you. Instead, he held his ground, arms pinned to his sides, eyes wandering across your face trying to take in all of you and everything you felt in that moment.

“Neteyam,” your voice cracked as you said his name, trying desperately to make him leave you alone. Even the sound of his name didn’t break his gaze that was permanently locked on you.

Just as your lips parted again to say something else, he interrupted you, letting the question fall quickly from his tongue, “Can I show you something?”

“What?” you whispered, unsure if you had heard him correctly.

His face remained stoic, serious, the question falling of his toungue again, “Can I show you something, please?”

Your eyes widened and your lips parted in shock. He leaned closer to you, the word please having completely taken you by surprise. You didn’t owe him anything. You knew that, even after everything he has taught you, you had every right to walk away from him and not give him any more of your time. But somehow you couldn’t. You found yourself standing there in front of him, unable to look away from him and walk away. His gaze, so different than you had ever witnessed had you glued there in front of him just trying to decipher it. So, you found yourself with so much hesitation nodding, giving into him entirely.

His lips lifted up at the small action, relief washing across his entire body. The smile dropped though after a few seconds as you continued to look up at him skeptically. Nothing else was said. He began to walk in the opposite direction of the village and you followed him. Silently, you walked side by side. As you pushed your way through tree limbs and bushes, you followed closely behind him, able to feel his body heat radiating off of him. He kept glancing in your direction, his gold eyes tracing your side profile from the curve of your nose to the shape of your lips.

However, you stared forward into the dark forest, even as you felt his fingers brush against yours. After about the third time though, you wrapped your arms around your waist to prevent it from happening again. Under your fingertips, you were able to feel the flush of your skin and for the rest of the walk to this place he wanted to show you, you denied that it could have been because of him.

Eventually, his steps slowed to a stop just behind the secluded area. He brushed the drooping leaves aside and stepped into the glowing space. As the forest broke open, it revealed the river, one of the few that ran within the forest. The sound of flowing water filled your ears and you closed your eyes for a moment to listen to the peaceful sound. As you opened them, you noticed a small waterfall hidden off to the side of the river, slightly out of view by some smaller trees.

Additionally, flora occupied the bank bathing the area in bright neon colors that reflected off the clear blue liquid of the river. Bioluminescence was the sight of this secret spot; from the plants to the water, to the insects that floated around in the air. Your head was on a swivel, looking around at the spot that seemed to be perfectly hidden within the forest and untouched by anyone.

As you looked over at him, head tilted up innocently, you found him already staring down at you. “Is this it?”

“Yeah,” he replied, taking in the soft curve of your lips and the doe-eyed expression that had snuck up on your face, “I come here when I need time to think and to just be by myself.”

He began to walk forward and you followed him quietly, listening to the way his deep voice was interlaced with something different. Something more uncommon than you had ever heard before. It was the same way with how he was looking at you as if all the anger had been flushed from his body and this was an entirely different person in front of you. He approached the edge of the river and took a seat, the ground glowing at the contact of his body. His long legs dipped into the water, ripples forming around them. You looked down at him for a moment, examining the way he stared forward at this small sliver of his world. A world he had never shared with you.

It was that observation, that fact alone, that convinced you to sit down next to him, close enough that your knee brushed his as you dropped your own legs into the cool water. “Have you ever brought anyone else here before?”

Your question took him by surprise and he found his gaze meeting yours, the water reflecting off of both of your faces. His gold eyes glistened and you couldn’t help but trace them as well as the soft smile that formed on his face. He shook his head, "No."

He watched as your face pinched together and you turned your head back towards the river, confusion taking over your features. Your bottom lip found its way in between your teeth and you were pulling on the tips of your fingertips, mind obviously busy with something. At least based on how you appeared and all the telltales your body was giving away that’s what Neteyam figured.

He looked at you and saw all of the little actions you weren’t even aware you were doing. He just studied you as if you were some problem that couldn’t be solved which was ironic considering he was the one who had been pushing you away from the start and doing everything he could to keep you at an arm’s length away. Truthfully, he was the problem that couldn’t be solved.

Softly, he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and your head snapped back into his direction. As his golden gaze slipped down to your lip that was still in between your teeth, you released it. “Neteyam, why did you bring me here?”

“I came to you just as you originally had thought, to apologize,” he said, pausing to watch your reaction unfold, but you didn’t give him an inch, “But it wasn’t just because my father asked me to. I shouldn’t have said it. Any of it. I knew it even when I was saying it but…”

“You said it anyway,” you finished sadly.

“Yes and it was wrong. I am sorry, Y/N. I know that might not mean much but it’s all I really have.”

Those words felt just as heavy as the ones he had said earlier that day. You are not one of us. Somehow for a completely different reason within an opposing situation. You didn’t think you would feel again after that, especially anything for him. He had hurt you right where it would the most — the most fatal spot within you. The need to belong had become your entire life and when he said that it felt like you were destined to be alone, not quite fitting into the lines of any certain place or established group.

Your heart felt as if it had been taken from your body and plunged with an arrow dipped in the deadliest neurotoxin. That was the only way you could describe it but now sitting in front of the very same man who had created that feeling for you, who had made you feel crazy for weeks on end, was in so many ways reviving you. I am sorry. Who knew such three little words, three little words that had become meaningless over so many years somehow in that single moment had regained all of their meaning at once.

“It’s just you don’t understand,” he started, suddenly unable to look at you as he tried to figure out his next words, “My entire life I have been taught to be a protector. I have to put everyone’s emotions and wants above my own and keep everyone safe, no matter what. My siblings, my family, and someday the entire village will be under my authority. I have to worry about everyone.”

His ears flickered as he lifted his head slowly to peer up at the sky, the thousands of stars that reflected down onto Pandora — one of them happened to be the dying planet your parents were from and where his father was from. Somehow of all them and everything that had happened had led to this moment; you and him sitting together.

He sighed and shook his head, almost in personal disappointment, “You just became another thing I had to protect and watch over. I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to be responsible for another person. My anger and my dislike towards you was never because you’re an avatar or because you ended up here in the village. It was because I felt like I had to look out for yet another person without even being asked what I thought.”

You were staring at him, he could feel it, your lips slightly parted as you tried to process everything he was saying. A part of you wondered if he told anyone this but based on how he had never even brought anyone to this spot, you weren’t so sure. For his whole life, just like Lo’ak constantly argued with him about, he was trying to be the perfect soldier; the perfect son. Someone had to take orders, had to make sacrifices.

There had to be a next Olo’eyktan and Neteyam took that responsibility selflessly and he was the only one paying for it. It was doing so much more to him than you had originally thought and suddenly his outbursts, his condescending tone, and his cold glares all made sense. He couldn’t mess this up. He couldn’t let anyone down, let alone his father. Somehow you had added so many more things required of him on a stack and there was no one he could express his frustration or direct the blame to other than you. That’s what it all had been. An angry young man repressing it all to only have it burst out at you, a mere outsider.

“Neteyam,” you said his name, so quietly he didn’t even shift his attention until your next sentence came slipping past your lips, “Would it be better if I left? Left the village and didn’t come back. Would you want that?”

It was the only solution that you could find as the two of you had sat in silence. You were the extra weight, the overwhelming hours of his long days, and how could he alleviate that stress and those harmful effects? Remove the weight that’s causing it.

Suddenly, the stars were no longer an interest to him. Your questions had him turning his body towards you, enough that his knee pressed firmly into the side of your thigh. At the foreign touch, you didn’t even flinch or lean away, but almost like a part of you wanted it. His eyebrows had shot up on his forehead and you felt his tail flick so hard, it hit you in the back. The question had shocked him completely. “What? Why would you ask me that?”

You bit onto your tongue, looking down in between your bodies surprised to find you’d be this close to him, ever. He shook his head as he searched for your eyes, leaning down until yours flickered up to his. “I was given an order to teach you the ways of Omatikaya and I will do just that. My father was right if I want to be—”

“Olo’eyktan, yes, you’ve said it so many times,” you cut him off, his answer somehow leaving a lump in your throat, disappointment at his words the only feeling you could register in your chest, “I know that’s what your father has asked of you but what do you want Neteyam? Do you want me to leave? Would that make this easier for you?”

His brows furrowed and his fingers twitched from where they sat, pressed into the ground. Tilting his head to the side, he shook his head slowy almost as if he wasn’t entirely sure of the answer himself. “No, it wouldn’t.”

You nodded slowly and he glanced down at the sight of your hand pulling on the ringer finger of your other. The answer was satisfactory, it wasn’t expected, but it was what you thought you had wanted to hear. To know, that you were wrong and he was wrong and that he never hated you like you originally had thought. Somehow though that disappointment still remained, lodged in your diaphragm.

“Tsap’alute si (I’m sorry),” you suddenly say, your pronunciation perfect. You knew because the corner of his mouth twitched lightly, proving he had picked up on it. “For having been so difficult.”

“You weren’t. I was the one being an asshole, remember?”

You laughed, the sound gracing his ears and suddenly that twitch at the corner of his mouth developed into a full smile, teeth and all. Something you weren’t entirely used to seeing and you couldn’t help but stare at it, trying to take in the moment as long as you could in case it would be the only time he would smile at you. “Only a little bit.”

“Sure,” he chuckled, denying your hospitality to his rudeness, “I used to like to think of myself as anything but an asshole.”

You hummed softly, struggling with the urge to let your hand fall down on top of his. It never did though and instead you just hugged your arms tighter around your waist, deciding the touch of his knee was enough. “So, what do you want to do?”

“Nothing. We’re going to continue what we have been doing for the past month. Except now I will be less of an asshole. I can’t promise you I won’t be bossy and lecture you once in a while though.”

“That’ll be expected coming from a soldier who accepts orders and follows through with them. I wouldn’t ask for anything else,” you smiled, and it was like he was seeing it for the first time that night. At least the first time he saw it actually being directed toward him.

He rolled his eyes slightly but was amused by your comment. As both of you became quiet after a moment, stealing glances at each other while turning to the river, you suddenly felt him bump his arm with yours. “So… this means?”

You held your hand out towards him, your thumb facing upwards, palm outstretched for his, “A truce?”

And just like that as his hand slid into yours with perfect ease, clasping around your smaller hand, warmth began to spread from your fingertips down to your arm and you knew then that he had melted the icy walls around you. And that weight that seemed to be pressing down on your chest and shoulders was gone, blowing away into thin air as if the pain was nothing but a ghost.

His next two words just confirmed everything you had been working to deny. That he had more of an effect on you than anyone had before. “A truce.”

It was late by the time you emerged from the link pod and as you swung your legs over, you felt as if the world before you was nothing but a dream. You stared down at your hands - your hands, that appeared so foreign to you, and your legs felt weak. Weaker than ever before as for over a month all you did was sit and lay down in a metal machine. The air in the lab felt like it was suffocating and as you closed your eyes you swore, you could still feel his hands, his touch, feel the way his breath fanned across your face. His voice filled your ears and for a moment you could believe you were still in the forest with him.

You heard heavy steps and as you opened your eyes to find Norm standing in the doorway, you felt it all hit you too hard. That you were starting to feel things you had never felt before and for someone you should’t be. You were a human, an outsider, and somehow the life you were suddenly seeing before you was just another reminder of what you didn’t want for yourself.

“You were out late,” Norm said, watching as you stretched your arms above your head, “Who were you with this time? The younger Sully boy or the eldest?”

He watched the way your face flickered with emotion at the end of his sentence. You avoided his stare and just like that chuckle fell from the older man’s mouth. Your silence was confirmation enough for him. “Really? You and the future Olo’eyktan?”

Sliding down from the link pod, you sighed not ready to face your own feelings, let alone express them to anyone else. You shook your head rapidly as he continued to look over at you, laughing.

As you stood on your own two feet, you felt the effects of them being stuck in a small box for hours on end. They were asleep but as you took a step forward and stumbled over nothing but yourself, a strange feeling appeared in your chest.

Grabbing onto the nearest desk, you leaned over it, your breath feeling heavy within your lungs — almost as if they were struggling to even operate properly or take in oxygen. Shown in the way you began to cough, your hand reached up to hold your chest. But just as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone. Your breathing stabilized again as well as the strength in your legs.

“You okay?” Norm asked.

You nodded but you weren't entirely sure yourself.

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

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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 1 year

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Jason was cursed. That was all he really knew.

Stalking through the shadows was second nature to him thankfully. He didn't know how the others would react if they saw him like this but he needed help to reverse whatever this was.

Maybe if he took out some criminals the other bats would realize he wasn't exactly what he seemed and prompt an investigation. Luckily for him there was an armored vehicle being robbed nearby.

He enjoyed the screams of terror let out by the two remaining robbers once they spotted him. Taking out the first few had been easy but now he needed to play with them until one of the other bats appeared. Jason was playfully dodged bullets, prompting one of the robbers to swear, "I was expecting sassy bats, not Tony the Tiger on steroids!"

"Forget the money man!" The other said as he rushed on top of a nearby dumpster "I don't wanna be eaten!"

Twack!

Dumpster guy went down with a thud as Red Robin landed nearby, bo staff at the ready. Great! Tim will probably notice the unconscious but very not dead people at Jason's feet...paws...and understand that Tigers don't just do that. Especially ones big enough to place a saddle on and ride like a horse.

Fortunately thats exactly what happened, unfortunately tim came to the assumption that Unnaturally large tiger + targeted attacks + enhanced intelligence = escaped animal experiment. It makes sense and Jason is mad he didn't think about it which lead to him having to run from Tim as his little brother tries to sedate him from a distance so he can take the giant tiger to the zoo.

A zoo! They were actually going to put him in a zoo! Jason whirled around, finding himself cornered by Tims gadgets and cunning, only for Tim to stop, appear confused and start looking for Jason even though he was right in front of him.

A tapping on his paw had him looking down.

There, next to the furry orange of his foot looked to be a liquid shadow with Lazarus green eyes. I can explain. The shadow said, but we need to get away from the bird first.

Once they were safe from the bats the shadow introduced himself as Phantom and revealed he had been cursed by the same person who cursed Jason and proposed they they worked together to remove thier curses and defeat the person who did this to them.

Jason had no objections and Phantoms powers were very useful, even if he was stuck as a liquid shadow. Jason's curse was difficult to break but they managed to get it halfway so where Jason could shift between man and beast like a werewolf, Phantoms wasn't so easy.

Phantoms curse actually removed parts of his spirit and embedded them into precious gems and jewelry across the globe. It sounded like a hassle but from what he gathered about Phanton was that he was a recently deceased teen and Jason wasn't about to just abandon him.

Aka Twilight Princess with a batpham twist

Also Damian is hellbent on adopting the rideable Tiger, much to Jason's mortification

#fanfiction prompts #prompts #danny phantom #robin #dp x dc #danny fenton #batman #tim drake #red robin #jason todd #red hood #tiger red hood #dadhood #danny is recently dead in this #baby ghost #jason is soooo adopting danny

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fanaticsnail · 2 months

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Sapsorrow Chapter 7

Masterlist Here, Sapsorrow Masterlist Here

Word Count: 8,800+

The Storyteller - Sapsorrow"Whom so ever fits the ring becomes wed to the warlord who owns it"Themes: enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, forced proximity, lord and subordinate, one bed trope, apprehension, mutual pining, obligation, slow burn, eventual love, protective, "where is my wife" trope.

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Tag List: @maybe-a-bi-witch @fuzzyfestcat @sordidmusings @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @be-good-please @little-bunnybabe @sukilovesyou @buggyenjoyer @thesailus @under-kitty @acehyacinth @andriannag @one17 @canthebest1 @khaleesihavilliard @quirkyrascal @hungrhay @sentieence @lebanese-afg-ya @captaincupio @szired @sexc-snail @alphaash99 @mfreedomstuff @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mrs-wolfwood

Notes: Thank you to @i-am-vita for her banner! Thank you for your patience, I had this chapter beta-read twice. Thank you to @since-im-already-here and @vespidphoenix for their kindness in volunteering to do that for me! Such love and appreciation for you both.

Song Suggestions: Casper's Lullaby,

Their Wedding Serendade: Turning Page - Sleeping At Last

“I will not marry him.”

Her voice held such sorrow, but her cries fell on deaf ears as her governess began to tug her hair into place with the rough scrape of a bone comb. Thrown onto her hands, pale gloves thrust up to her elbows by the hands of her ladies maids; her shoulder straps readjusted to float down her forearms like beams of radiant moonlight.

“He has heard your demands, and seen them done. You are his princess...”—her governess’ voice paused while she shook her head to rid her eyes of her own tears—“...and now you are his bride. You bound yourself to him the moment you placed that damned band over your unity finger.” The small quiver in her tone had the princess’ eyes spilling over with a fresh stream of hot tears.

Immediately springing to her feet and snatching her hair out of the firm grip of her ladies maid, she flung herself against the corner of the room. Her face was littered with tears, her eyes swollen and lip bruised from the force of her teeth clamping on them.

“My princess,” the governess spoke, her hands quivering as they reached out in an anxiety induced panic, “You have been training your whole life to marry royalty. This was a title you were born to bear. You are to be queen of your lands, ruler of your home country. With your union to the king-.”

“-I will not marry him!” She beat her gloved hands against the wall, her enclosed fists almost shattering her bones atop the cobblestone walls. Sobs rocked her shoulders, her wails echoing throughout the hallway and flooded the ceremony space with her grief. Attendees held a similar somber expression, along with royal subjects celebrating with glee at the prospect of a new queen.

“My lady,” the governess’ voice shook as she stepped closer to the shaking princess and placed her hand over her shaking shoulder, “My lady, please.”

The bloodshot eyes of the royal princess snapped up to her with a cold and frightening stare.

“What would you have me do, my governess? Wed this man who is more than twice my age? Dine with this man, consummate a union with this man? A man who already rules over these lands as king? A man who i-is-...”

Her eyes fluttered closed as a fresh surge of tears fell from her darkened orbs.

“A man who is my father?”

The princess rounded on her ladies in waiting, her eyes now incandescent with helpless rage. “What would you do?” she continued. “What would any of you do, were you in my place? The law of the land binds me to this ring. I have become plagued by an unnatural and grotesque curse-.” Her voice halted in her throat, plagued by her own revelation.

That is exactly what this was. This was a curse.

A curse on her soul to bind her in matrimony to her own flesh and blood. Where other children dreamed of fairytale romance, being spirited away into the arms of a lover, she was bound by fate to this ring.

The princess’s gaze landed on a pot of water hanging in the fireplace. As she walked in that direction, her eyes never leaving it, the water went from simmering to bubbling to boiling over. Hardening her resolve, she grasped the iron handle and removed it from its place above the fire.

“My lady! What are you-,” the calls of her ladies in waiting were silenced by a single look from the governess.

The princess’ sobs began to crack and cackle into maniacal and sinister laughter.

“I will curse you. I will curse all of you,” she booms, casting the glove from her left hand to reveal a violet ring encrusted with an array of several stones bound within a thick band. Nine stones of unique colors danced within the light, their forms melded into a large central stone in the middle. The green hue of moss overshadowed the radiance of the smaller stones, the thick band dwarfing her unity finger.

“If you are thinking of casting it into the fire, my lady,” the governess stepped closer, her hands held with palms facing outwards in defense, “The damage is already done. You are bound to marry him, there is nothing you can do.”

The princess flung the band from her finger and threw the object into the iron pot.

“In that hopelessness, I shall thee bind,” she intones in a hundred voices, at once of the deepest bass and highest soprano. The attendees within her chambers stepped back, some thrust onto their knees under the powerful boom of her voice.

“Whosoever shall find, claim or attune to these crafts, their souls shall be cursed under the plague of unity,” she continued, her hair shifting in colors and tones to several shades closer to death, “May their suffering feed my heart with gladness and life, as my suffering brings gladness onto thee.”

“-My lady,” the governess spoke, her eyes widening in fear as she witnessed the princess wither beneath her curses, “My lady, please-.”

“-And as my yearning for a love true and just shall never be quenched,” the princess’ voice hitched, her own tone dominant within the vocal strands of external forces, “I will allow the wearer to place a plague of conditions on their heart the moment the craft is thrust upon them.”

Her hair whipped in the unnatural wind, the ring now smelting down into a lava of molten gold. The gems began dancing within the pale light as smoke poured from them in hues darker than night.

“Should their conditions never be completed,” the princess continued, her heart swelling with vicious rage, “I will claim their souls and bind them to my own in eternal suffering a year from the day it begins.” She ripped a fistful of her vibrant hair, placing it within the concoction alongside her tears.

The ladies in waiting, the maids, and the governess clutched their hearts and covered their screams with their hands as the clouds of smoke spread through the chambers.

“My lady!” The governess shrieked, “Princess, please! You do not know what it is you are making. This unnatural phylactery has no place in the lands of the living. My princess-.”

“Your Queen,” her voice boomed, her pupil-less gaze snapping over to her governess. Her face contorted into an unnatural and cool gray tone, her vibrant hair lifeless in hue while whipping around her face within waves of spectral ocean.

“My queen,” the governess repeated, bowing her head to the royal witch. Her hue returned to her, the gold simmering down as she poured the liquid onto the coals below the surface. An unnatural steam rose within the flames, the vapors smelling of metallic blood mixed with the sweetness of honey.

“I-I just-...” the princess wailed in defeat, her shoulders slouched, “-I just wanted to find love, governess. I wanted so desperately to find peace with a spouse of my own choosing. I wanted a partner to court me; to woo me, to cherish me. I never wanted-.”

“Sapsorrow, your king awaits you,” A voice called from behind the door, interrupting the unnatural scene within. As the ladies glanced nervously between the princess and the door, the final words of the princess’ confession bound all but one stone within nine rings, leaving the central moss agate laying dormant, as if awaiting a final command.

“I just wanted a love that was truly mine.”

The echo of those final words plagued your mind, dancing as the concept of time began to mould from the past and spring you into your future. The repetition of ‘truly mine’ rotated and stirred within your slumber, breaking the peace you had once found for yourself beneath your bedsheets. You catapulted from your huddled pile of blankets into an upright position; your damp hair clung to your brow and sweat stuck your nightdress to your body. Your plagued slumber left you with more questions than answers.

Had the spectre wanted you to see that image? Did she have control over your mind, did your attunement to the moss agate ring bind to you? Drawing your right hand up to your face, you rotated your thumb and index finger over your temples to rid yourself of the nightmare that seemed to persist each time you lay down to slumber.

A light rap at your door had you jolting from your thoughts, snapping your head towards the wall and hastily making your way over to the interruption.

“Governess!” A hushed feminine whisper called to you, “Governess, can I come in?” Perona continued her polite rapping, the drum of her knuckles gathering up rapidity against the wood in an anxious thump. You sighed, shaking your head and allowing a small smile to dance over your features.

Collecting the iron handle beneath your hands, you open the door and immediately become overwhelmed by the embrace of your pink-haired pupil. She squealed into your ear, bouncing happily on the balls of her feet as she attempted to twirl you.

“You are getting married to Mihawk today!” Her voice squeaked with high-pitched enthusiasm, “Have you tried on your dresses? Have you written your vows? Did you read his letter yet? Have you thought about your perfume? How are you doing your hair? Are you doing it in three different styles for the three different outfits?”

The sheer rapidity of her questions had you unable to find an anchor to hold them. You fluttered your eyelashes shut, shaking your head hastily and attempting to wrap your mind around her flurry of words.

“Of course you haven’t read his letter yet, I still have it! I am scatterbrained today, my lady. I can barely contain all of the excitement!” She continued, breaking away her contact from you and thrusting a wax-sealed envelope into your hands.

“Perona-?” You began, your voice halting as she danced past you into your chambers and staring at the two mannequins in the corner of your bedroom beside your changing shield. Her voice caught in her throat, all air relinquished from ballooning her lungs. You turned to face her, holding the envelope close to your chest as a warmer smile drew itself to your features.

“O-Oh-... Oh m-my-...” Perona’s words found no harbour against her lips, all thoughts became silenced within her mind as she hovered over to the dresses. You allowed a warm giggle to rise within your throat at her fawning over the objects.

“Do you like them?” You asked her, cocking your head over to the right hand side to find a better angle to read her face.

“They are beautiful, my lady,” she whispered, reaching her hand towards the sleeve of Sir Crocodile’s creation and halting before her digits found purchase, “Can I touch them-?”

“-Don’t you dare, Perona,” A gruff, masculine voice called from the corner of the room. You snapped your face over to the doorway, noticing Zoro donned in lengthy tan sleeping trousers and a dark yukata hanging limply at the front.

“Zoro!” You gasped, drawing your chemise closer to contain your form from his eyes, “It is one thing having Perona in my personal suite, but another to have a young gentleman while I’m clad in my nightdress.” Zoro shook his head, his wolfy grin taunting you beneath his down tilted head.

“Would you change your tune if I said I have wine?” Zoro’s brow quirked up, revealing a green bottle from behind his back with a small, nonchalant shrug. You huffed out a laugh, shaking your head and removing your arms from concealing your chemise from vision.

“Have you got a saber tucked somewhere on your person, Zoro?” You quirked your own brow up in question. Zoro laughed, turning away from his lean to reveal three swords clinging limply against his hip.

“You can take your pick, my lady,” he shrugged, his hand lying on the hilt of his favoured blade. You opened your arms to him, gesturing for him to enter your suite with an elaborate flurry of motions.

“Then by all means, my green-haired pupil,” you mixed your tone somewhere balanced between absolute sarcasm and unwithheld appreciation, “Welcome to my humble abode. Shall we begin by getting ourselves ready for the ceremony, or having a drink before breakfast?”

Zoro answered wordlessly with a small smirk. Withdrawing the white blade from within its scabbard to claim the cork from the top of the wine bottle, and unlatching the wax by severing the rim with his sword. He reached towards your small dining table, upturning three of the four teacups from their place atop their saucers and pouring the amber liquid to the brim.

“You gonna open your letter?” he asked, nodding to the envelope clutched within your hands and reminding you of its presence, “We’ll do a small cheers and give you a bit of privacy to read it.”

“I hope you are both planning on giving Mihawk a similar wake-up call,” you laughed, reaching forward and claiming a teacup from Zoro’s outstretched grasp. Zoro chuckled, shaking his head as he raised his own teacup to clash the rim with your own.

“Oh, he’s been up for hours,” Zoro confessed, Perona giggling as he handed her her own teacup, “He’s been brooding in the ceremony space: hovering over the decor and pacing, last time I checked.” Perona struck the corner of her teacup against Zoro’s before meeting the edge with your own. Your brows furrowed, glancing from the corner of your eye outside your bedroom window to seek out the elevation of the sun.

“How many hours remain between now and the ceremony?” you asked Perona with a partial anxious quiver depicted within. Perona stepped forward, brushing her shoulder against yours in a small gesture of comfort.

“You’ve got two hours, my lady,” she whispered, prompting your heart to nearly stop beating and your breath to halt in your lungs, “That’s why I thought to wake you-.”

“-And why I thought to bring you booze,” Zoro added, throwing back his teacup and downing the contents in one heaping gulp, “Just to take the edge off.” Your hands stuttered, taking a small sip of the wine within your cup before setting it back down.

“I thank you both for your thoughtfulness, my dears,” you gave them a small downturned smile, your brows triangulating in the center of your forehead, “I have thoroughly enjoyed my time getting to know you as my pupils-.”

“You’re going to be our lady now, my lady,” Perona added to your thoughts, “No longer just our governess, but something akin to an adoptive mother beside Mihawk as our apprehensive father.” Your breath caught in your throat, hitching at the thought of becoming unified not only to a spouse today, but upholding a promise to chaperone the two wards at a place of higher standing.

“Don’t think too hard about it, my lady,” Zoro reassured, his brow furrowing down. Placing his mug down on the table, he reached his hands up to clasp your shoulders beneath his heavy-handed grip, “You’ve already got so much goin’ on in your head, just know-,'' his breath caught in his throat as you looked up at him through your eyelashes. He was bewitched by the charm of your melancholy and apprehensive expression, your doubts begin to spiral behind your eyes.

‘You are not good enough for this role. This is not your place. This is not a role you were born to play. This was a role that always belonged to someone of higher standing; someone of higher class-.’

“-Know we would be proud to have you as our lady, not just a governess hired to serve a role,” Zoro continued, collecting your chin beneath his fingertips to hold your gaze with his own. Perona stepped her body closer to you, weaving her arms around your waist and hastily drawing her cheek to press against your back.

“I can hear her too, my lady,” Perona whispered into your back, prompting you to break your eyes away from Zoros to glance over your shoulder. Perona’s large, dark eyes looked up at you with sorrow and understanding held within her orbs, promises of empathy propelling her utterances, “And any words she brings onto you harbouring doubt, I will smother you in nothing but kindness and love to reassure you.”

Heart swelling at her utterances, your eyes began to pool over with gladness. The mist of your eyes clouded your vision as Perona continued to sing her praises into you.

“I love you, my lady,” Perona hushed, her eyes beginning to dance with her own emotion. Her lip quivered, looking up into your eyes with true adoration and love at you, “We both do, don’t we Zoro?” At the sound of his name, Zoro’s breath caught itself within his mouth for the second time.

You trailed your eyes back over to his, breaking away from your contact with Perona, and meeting his hazelnut orbs with your own once more. No whisper of a word, nor utterance fled his lips; all emotion depicted in the slight shudder of his eye and quirk up of his lips. Sighing out, you drew your arms around Zoro’s waist, turning your head to feel his heartbeat below his warm chest. Perona continued to nuzzle against your back as Zoro’s hands on your shoulders snaked over your back and pulled you both closer to him.

“I am so glad to have met you both, dears,” you whispered, scrunching your eyes shut and deeply inhaling your insecurities, exhaling your worries into the air as they held you firmly.

“Zoro, you need a bath. You stink, and I can smell you from here,” Perona called over your shoulder, “I pity your proximity, my lady. He’s probably spilling that musky smell onto you, meaning we’ll have to bath you too- My lady! We’re running out of time!” Perona immediately broke away from the embrace, tugging at your hips to break from Zoro’s grip and leading you to the changing shield.

“You: bath,” Perona ordered, pointing her finger at Zoro, “And you,” she snapped her eyes over to you, “Moon-dress first, right?” You sighed, nodding your dismissal of Zoro with a light smile. Zoro grunted a cough, adjusting his waistband around his yukata, and nodded in return before exiting your chambers. He halted at the table, collecting the half-drunk wine bottle by the neck, before heading through the door and latching it again with a small click.

“My lady, the moon first?” Perona asked once more, taking your attention from the door to gaze into her eyes. You nodded in confirmation, prompting her to shove you behind your changing screen to rid your body of its night chemise. You folded the chemise over the door of the screen, as the variety of items presented themselves to you in order from lesser to grander.

“Perona, sweetheart,” you called to her, your voice holding an anxious laugh, “There is far too much material here for me to continue thrusting this onto my body.” Perona laughed in response, walking over to the screen and peeking over the top of the wooden frame. She inhaled deeply, a small squeak propelling her inhale. Her brows rose in excitement, her eyes upturning in glee at the first part of the assembly of the moon dress.

The bodice of the dress clung to your breasts, an ovular shape wisping in layers of tulle and smoothed satin to draw over the midpoint of your shoulders. Trailing down from its seamless layers, your back was joined with an elaborate assortment of ridges and latches. Upon investigating it initially, you were unsure of why such items were joined in bands of silver, onyx and gold to its back until it hit you.

This was truly the moon.

The silvery hue of the beams, the mystery of fluttered blues and pale whites cascading from end to end; all bound by circular divots of darkened onyx and quartz to resemble faces and craters atop the lunar surface. The many layers of skirts laid a train ending in the same ovular shape as the neckline atop your chest.

“O-Oh, my g-goodness,” Perona’s voice managed to stutter out, her soul mirrored within her expression of youthful adoration and excitement, “You look so beautiful, my lady. As luminescent and radiant as the moon in peak of nightful.” You sighed with your smile, brows upturning and weight falling away from your shoulders.

You gave Perona a small twirl, the material pooling and drifting as effortlessly as warm mercury over cool stone. She gave you a small applause and a small jittery cry of joy before ushering you over to sit at your vanity. Glancing up at your features, the illumination of the dress mixed perfectly with the tone of your skin and hair.The task had been executed flawlessly.

“Now then, my lady,” she said, shaking her head and clapping her hands, “I am going to leave you to get yourself primed, painted and dressed with the jewellery-,” Her eyes widened, “-Jewellery, my lady! I have to get the jewellery!” She hastily turned back around and fled to the door, flinging it wide and immediately cowering away from a large, balled fist descending to where wood once was.

You recognised the scent first, the smell of cigar tobacco and ashen smoke wafting into your chambers mixing with the expensive and earthy cologne of the hulking and boorish-.

“-Sir Crocodile,” you uttered as you began to rise from your vanity. Turning to face him, the intimidating aura of the hulking man hung behind the threshold of your door.

“My lady,” he nodded his head in response, his head ducking below the frame to meet the purple hue of his eyes with your own, “May I enter your space?” Perona sucked in a breath, darting her eyes between the man at the door and you in your bridal dress in a small panic. Without turning his head, Sir Crocodile’s eyes met with Perona’s through the corner of his narrowed gaze.

“I harbour no ill intent with your mistress, little mouse,” Perona pouted at his words, prompting the twitch of his smirk to pull at the corner of his lips. He cleared his voice, removing the cigar from his lips and extinguishing the flame atop the stone wall beside the door frame; an action prompting your lips to curl in a small snarl.

“As I were the means to provide you with such a dress,” his sinister smirk drew up to his cheeks, the huff of cigar smoke pooling from his lips, “I desired to be the first to see you in your radiancy. How are you enjoying your daw' alqamar-,” he shook his head in reprimand for his verbal linguistic slip, “-Your moonlight, my lady?”

Several thoughts lingered in your mind: a reprimand for using your wall to douse the burnt end of his cigar, asking him to leave your space to continue dressing yourself for your wedding, thanking him for the skill that designed and crafted the garment over your body. Elevating to your feet and walking over to the door frame with precision and grace, you halted your movement and dipped into a low stooped curtsey.

“Sir Crocodile,” you spoke in a low and stern tone, “I would offer my praises and my gratitude to you presently,” your tone twitched in subtle agitation as you rose to your feet, “But I am a bride, and my groom is awaiting me.” Crocodile hummed through his nose, his smirk continuing to hold against his lips as he stared down at you. He took a moment to stare at your bodice, his brow twitching as he cocked his head.

After taking a moment's pause, his eyes softened to a point almost unavailable to an untrained eye.

“You look beautiful, my lady,” he offered in a hushed whisper, “That dress was made for you by my means,” he stooped lower, remaining outside the threshold but hovering closer to you in proximity, “And you wear it as it you were born to don such a garment.”

At those final words, both Perona and Sir Crocodile left you in your solace to prepare yourself for your wedding ceremony. As you applied the final stroke of paint to dance atop your lips, from the corner of your eye; you spotted the parchment paper sealed with a wax stamp not dissimilar to the letter of summons from Mihawk those months ago.

Placing down your lip-paint brush, you reached for the letter and unfolded the crease and snapping the small seal holding it closed. Immediately, your eyes widened at its contents:

“My Beloved Wife,

In light of harbouring no such secrets between us; I have written the vows I desired to forge with you, and present them to you before we meet for the first time as husband and wife.”

You halted your reading, the swell of emotion elevating your heart to a risen drumbeat of both adoration and anticipation. Quickly reading through the customs he wished to claim over the ceremony, your smile broke your sorrow as you truly witnessed how much thought he placed into each declaration and decree. So many elements, so many customs you were learning held meaning for your husband to be; you found yourself awestruck.

“I have no such means for communication with you before we meet to truly know if you agree with the terms.

But know this,

I appreciated you for your skill as a governess to our wards, I found myself smiling at your playfulness as my Lost-Lady, and I am looking forward to the future that we will find ourselves forging; unified as one.

My darling, I do

I will.

And I will always love you.

Dracule Mihawk ~ Your Devoted Husband.”

A small drop soaked the page, swelling the signature lovingly scrolled ink into the bottom of the page, smudging its words. Shocked, you rose your hand to your cheek to find a damp trail of tears falling against your cheeks; completely unaware of when you had begun to cry. A small laugh flung from your lips, prompting you to sniff and shake your head before setting to the task of reapplying your paints and perfumes to the highest quality.

The final step was placing the cascading veil atop your hair and covering your eyes, sheer in material appearing to illuminate pale blue under the lights. In your hand, you clutched your bouquet of lilies, roses, and baubles of babies’ breath. Nestled into the arrangement peered throughout were small wisps of blue forget-me-nots, a small nod to your prior filterless encounter with your Farm-Hand and you as his Lost-Lady.

The halls were littered with similar flowers, illuminating the area with bulbs of roses, flurries of jasmines and hiding within the scattered arrangements: the same innocent and small forget-me-nots in clusters joined with twine. Although walking alone, you felt the presence of all guests loitering within the ceremonial space of Castle Kuraigana to propel you.

Murmurs of hushed voices, small conversations resonated within the halls and beyond had your heart beating with irregular jumps in anticipation for what awaits you behind the large, closed doors. You sucked in a breath, the trail of your moonlight dress dancing along the lengthy hallway for each movement of your feet.

‘You are truly going through with this, are you? Joining yourself to a role that you have no place in unifying with-.’

“-Sapsorrow,” your hushed voice rang into the air, the atmosphere cooling at the immediate utterance of her name. Whispers and hushed hums alerted you of her presence standing beside you in her spectral regality.

“You dare speak my name, Governess?” the voice to your side answered you, your spine and follicles standing in tingles at her tone. You rolled your neck on your shoulders, twitching your hands by your side to rid it of your anxiety as you turned to face the spirit haunting you.

Her hollowed eyes framing her pupil-less gaze found your face, her sinister smile resting comfortably against her lips. Hair swiping in a wind not present as she moved, her dress pooling at her feet like a flag within water. She was a horror to behold, but there was a deep melancholy reflected in her eyes.

“Queen Sapsorrow,” you stooped low, bowing yourself almost to the floor with your humility, “I express my gratitude to you.” You heard her spectral voice hitch in her unnatural throat, her animosity fleeing from her in the wake of curiosity. Before she opened her mouth to speak her taunts to you, you spoke once more as you rose to your feet.

“I have no parents; no father, nor mother,” you confessed to her, your eyes depicting your honesty through each word spoken, “No family to call my own, until this very moment.” You stepped closer to her, reaching out your hand to bare your right palm to her.

“I was alone in this world, drifting from place to place and finding purpose as a governess - an excellent governess,” you corrected yourself with a smile. Her uneasy and cautious expression unwavering for each parting moment you held her hostage with your words.

“You are the reason I am here, and I will forever be grateful to the future you had bound to me,” She clicked her tongue at you, scrunching her nose to reveal her snarl at you. You hardened your resolve and continued, “Two wards: a man akin to a roguish son, alongside a beautiful and delightful daughter. In this unity: I have found a love that is truly mine,” you concluded, a warmer smile drawing up to reveal your teeth to her in a kind smile.

Sapsorrow’s eyes widened, her unbeaten heart fluttering and reigniting within her chest at hearing her own words reflected from the lips of another.

“Would you care to join me as I take the walk?” you offered her, stepping closer to her and continuing to hold your hand elevated to the front of you.

“Excuse me?” Her spectral voice called, her tone somewhere between offended and bewildered at such an offering.

“Would you care to join me as I take the walk, Sapsorrow?” you again offered, gesturing to her spectral hand with your forehead, “From what I know of your history in the tale once told to me, you deserve your own happy ending. Walk with me, and I will be glad to share mine.”

“You think my curse ends with just you?” Her form faded from vision, her voice reverberating in the hall outside of the ceremony with you, “Oh, I have eight more curses to awaken, you arrogant woman-.” Her voice held source from all corners of the hallway, “-Nine if you account for the clause that stupid tall blonde placed upon the band lying around that inked doctor’s neck!”

Her sinister cackle broke her sentence, unnerving you more than the words she was speaking,“I shall start with those who aided you in completing your conditions; the easiest of the three to ensnare will be the Crocodile, for I know where his ring lay-.”

Your breath hitched at her confession, her own words halting as she attempted to stuff them back into her undead lips. A rough spectral sigh drifted within the walls, her face once again revealed to your eyes. She looked softer, almost human now. Her hair was less wild, her face less horrifying, and her eyes soft and baring pupils within them behind her thick and lengthy eyelashes. The was truly beautiful, her sorrow depicted alongside an unfamiliar warmth in her undeath.

“I will allow your happiness to lie only with you, Lady of Kuraigana. You deserve peace today,” she confessed, a warm smile rising to her lips as she leant forward to take your hand, “Enjoy the time you have with your love.” She stepped forward, pressing her left hand against your offered right, a tingle dancing against your skin at the contact.

“This is where I leave you,” she confessed, floating backwards slowly towards the high ceilings, “But I will be watching your future closely.”

“Thank you, Sapsorrow,” you offered your gratuity by slinking down to another low bow. Halting her final exit by the upper window, she turned once more and glanced at the corner of her eye at you and smirked through the left hand corner of her lips.

“The Sun-Dress is my favourite, my lady,” her small laugh propelled one of your own to dance alongside hers, “If I had a heart, I would even show mercy on Red-Hair for such a fine craft. But alas,” her beauty once again faded into the horrifying spectre you had initially seen her as, “I do not.”

Her spectral body disappeared from the window, a swell in orchestral melody commencing as soon as she departed from the space. You were once again drawn to this single moment, your heart beating now in anxiety of what your future held for you.

You were to become Lady of Kuraigana, bound to one of the former warlords of the seas. The World’s Greatest Swordsman as your beau, the Lord of this land you were now to call home. As you began to step towards the threshold of the door, the wooden barriers were pulled back by members of staff to reveal the attendees within. At the end of the ornately decorated row, your gaze immediately found linked with the honeyed hue of your beloved.

Flowers lined the pews within the large room, candles alight with warm flames to illuminate the shadowy row. All eyes snapped to you, gasps fleeing from their lips as they took in your incredible beauty dressed in an arrangement as radiant as the moon. You could audibly hear the smirk from the hulking Sir Crocodile, as praises of your dress were flung into the air with their comments and sighs.

The music swelled, a small smile drawing up to your face as you propelled yourself forward while clutching your bouquet close to your naval. You thanked your veil from shielding your nerves from prying eyes, a small blush dusting your cheeks as you shamelessly raked your eyes over the body of your intended.

His shirt was dipped into a deep ‘V’, tasteful frills decorating the hemline against his collarbone and neck. His overcoat lay open black in colour with the softest shade of mauve within the inner shield. Dark, leather pants were clasped by a golden buckle decorating his waist, the outer frame of his thighs supporting embellished embroidery in the similar mauve decorating his overcoat. Atop his head, his signature hat with his puffed, white feather dancing behind the broad brim and shielding his curled locks beneath it.

In all your time spent with Dracule Mihawk, you could safely assume you had a grasp on how to read the subtle changes in his stoic face. His lips were barely parted, his eyes only slightly widened and his face only a single shade away from his regular hue with the dusting of the palest pink. Once again, the thought hit you like a puff of cautious wind: you were to wed Lord Dracule Mihawk, become his wife and he your husband.

If his words to you were left unread and unwritten, you would have no doubt plaguing your mind at this very moment of one thing. Lord Dracule Mihawk was hopelessly, truly and deeply in love with you.

As you approached the final steps towards him, you slowly turned to view Perona standing to the side of the aisle, noticing Zoro standing beside your intended: both holding similar expressions mirroring your own. You had all been awaiting this moment with the greatest anticipation: from the moment your accidental hands toyed with the moss agate ring, to the knowledge the curse bound you now by fate.

Mihawk opened his mouth, watching as you slowly placed your bouquet he had affectionately crafted for you within Perona’s outstretched and awaiting hands. The officiant gave you a soft smile, turning to address the large number of attendees scattered amongst the pews in their most formal attire.

“Valued and adored guests here gathered,” she began, her arms gesturing outwards in a warm embellished wave, “On behalf of the Lord and Lady to be of Kuraigana, I would bid thee welcome to witness the unification of two souls in matrimony.” Mihawk had yet to tear his eyes off you, paying attention to all words spoken by the woman in front of you, but hypnotised by your presence at his side.

“There are a few elements to witness performed here. We are to leave no stone unturned nor phrase unuttered in their bonds forming,” she continued, turning away and gathering a larger twin candles within her hands and holding them to the side of her body, “Lord Dracule, you may reveal your wife from beneath her shroud, so we may witness her declarations departing from her lips.”

Mihawk rose his hands to your collar bones, his fingertips pinching the sheer material within his thumb, index and tall finger and hastily withdrawing the shield from your face. He allowed himself the luxury of the backs of his hands brushing with your cheeks as he flung the sheer fabric over your hair, a shaken breath escaping your lips at his tender touch.

As your eyes met without filter between you, his expression finally revealed more to you than a subtle tick and twitch. The air was sucked from his lungs, his eyes softening as he found his body drawing closer to you almost against his will. You smiled up at him, adoring this new and unrefined experience of adoration dancing over his face.

“I present you with two candles,” the attendee informed you, placing them out in a gesture for you to take them from her hands, “I shall alight the wick of Lord Dracule's, and he will speak his actions and their meaning aloud.” She lit his wick, gesturing for you to turn to face one another with your candles extended in the middle of your bodies.

“With this flame,” Mihawk uttered in full clarity, “I vow to light your way through all darkness that plagues you.” He extended the flamed tip to ignite your candle in front of you.

“Under its light,” you uttered with a small bow to him, “I trust you to guide me.” A small sniff from Perona, attempting as she would to halt her emotions from expressing themselves, had a similar experience rising in Zoro behind Mihawk. The two wards witnessing their Lord and Lady now unifying themselves in matrimony finally began to find harbour within their hearts in each passing moment and gesture.

Taking the candles from you and placing them within their designated dishes on the table and elevating a silver goblet and accompanying decanter. She poured the crimson liquid within the spherical container, offering to place the cool stem within your fingertips.

“Your cup may never empty,” you expressed, offering to your swordsman the container, rotating the object twice within your hands first and bowing your head low, “For I will be the wine that fills it.” His fingers brushed over yours, grasping them and taking them with him as he elevated the wine to his lips. He continued holding his hands over yours as he offered the goblet up to your own lips.

“May I be the wine that fills your cup,” his smile twitched at the corner as he added, “And may you always be satisfied with the contents that replenishes you.” A small blush rose to your cheeks as your eyes never broke from Mihawks. He elevated the wine to your lips, allowing for a small sip to pass from your lips. The celebrant reclaimed the goblet from your hands and placed it beside the lit candles, rising now a tray with two cubes of sticky honeycomb atop the surface.

“This may get a little messy, bear with us everyone,” the attendee expressed, drawing a small teetered chuckle and rise of giggle from your guests. Mihawk allowed the softness to be depicted in his face at the small giggle that fell from your lips, both claiming the sticky cubic piece of honeycomb into your fingers.

“I shall serve you in all the ways you require,” you both spoke in unison, “And may the honeycomb taste sweeter coming from my hand.” You both placed the sticky cubes within each other’s awaiting mouths, both laughing at the mess atop your fingertips. Without hesitation, Mihawk clasped your wrist, holding your hand in place as his tongue danced around your fingertips to skillfully rid them from the honey. Your shocked expression was shrouded by the presence of Mihawk’s thumb within your own lips, prompting you to perform a similar action to suck the sticky substance to rid its presence from his digits.

Small whistles and flirtatious commentary fell from the lips of the Red-Hair pirates, hooting and hollering in their support of such an unbridled expression of lust within the ceremony. Another rise of laughter occurred between you as you retracted your fingertips from each other’s mouths. The attendee placed the tray beside the goblet and returned with two thin sheets of material and offered them to Zoro and Perona.

Perona reached forward and gathered the material within her hands, Zoro apprehensively doing the same with no frame of reference as to why he was doing so.

“The two wards under the care of Dracule Mihawk will present the ties to bind you, solidifying their positions in upholding you within your commitment to one another as your chosen witnesses,” Mihawk turned away from you, as you did him, to gather the material within the hands of the wards behind you.

“May our bond continue to grow all the years you choose to remain with us in unity, Perona,” you whispered to her, prompting her to smile through her tears that began to fall as soon as your vows commenced.

“I will stay as long as you’ll have me, my lady,” she confessed in a similar tone, offering the sash for you to take into your arms.

Although you both were too wrapped to hear the conversation occurring behind you, Zoro and Mihawk had a similar moment parting between them.

“Although you are destined to earn my title as ‘World’s Greatest Swordsman’ in single combat, I am proud to call you a son under my familial name, Zoro,” He uttered with a small twitched smirk and narrowed eyes.

“I will hold both such titles with honour, Lord Mihawk,” he reached forward, his arms containing the sash and prompting both Mihawk and you to return in facing one another.

“May this knot you tie demonstrate to those present here the symbol of your unity,” the attendee uttered to you, prompting a skillful dance of fingertips brushing and hands clasping one another to tie the two sheets into a single knot in the centre. You and Mihawk both presented the unified material to the celebrant, who collected it from you by the knot in the centre. She placed the knot beside the dish containing the small syrupy honeycomb remnants, raising a box containing two bands of gold within.

“My lady, you may raise your hand to place the ring atop your beau’s unity finger and relay your vows onto him,” she gestured for you to claim the larger band within the box, elevating it to his left hand and hovering it over his fingertip.

“My beloved,” you began, glancing from his hand to dart your focus between his two honey-coloured eyes, “These are the vows of promise I swear unto you, unifying us in marriage.” He awaited expectantly his breath hitching once more as you relayed your confession of love onto him.

“I will never possess you, for you belong to none but yourself,” you smiled at him, beginning the descent of his ring slowly over his finger, “I cannot command you, for you are free.” Shimmying the object over his first knuckle, you continued to relay your vows.

“I pledge to you that your name be the one I cry into the night,” your smile cracked at the corner of your face at a small stifled squeak from Perona, “And may mine be the smile that greets you the morning after.” You slid the ring over his final knuckle, securing it to the base of his finger before interweaving your fingertips with his.

“May this ring be a symbol of my devotion to you, unifying us as one to all those who view it,” you concluded. Finally meeting his eyes once more, his glazed over eyes held such softness for you it felt too intimate for his public persona. He firmly squeezed your right hand within his left before unweaving his fingertips from yours and collecting your ring from the box presented by the attendant.

“My beloved,” he began, clasping your left hand with his right, and elevating his left hand to hover the golden band above your left finger; his own new band catching your eyes as it danced in the light, “These are the promises I swear onto you through my vows of devotion.” He slid the ring slowly over your fingertip, his eyes never breaking away from your own as he presented his words.

“I will never command nor possess you,” he ushered the ring over your first knuckle, “For your will belongs to you alone.” Sliding the ring over your second knuckle, he continued to relay his vows slowly onto you.

“I pledge your name to be cried from my lips in the night, and my smile-...” his right hand gently squeezed your fingertips as his smile drew up onto his face, “-be what greets you on the morrow beside you.” Perona stifled another squeal behind her unoccupied hand clapping over her lips, prompting a smile to break over your own lips.

“May this band unify us in matrimony, and be a beacon of my promise to all who view it,” Mihawk concluded, immediately stooping his lips to press a chaste kiss atop your knuckles, much to the detest of the celebrant. She clicked her tongue to reprimand him, shaking her head with a smile of her own.

“Given your lips can’t hold their restraint, my lord,” her warning tone playfully reprimanded him, “I will now allow for the lord and lady to solidify their unity in the sharing of their first kiss as husband and wife. You may both collect each other and seal your covenant with words left unspoken. You may now share your lips with one another.”

Mihawk immediately began his descent, cradling your jaw beneath his left hand and shepherding you towards him with his lips parted in anticipation. You hastily drew your own left hand up to his right cheek, your right hand finding purchase on his waist and anchoring yourself to him as he finally pressed his lips onto your own.

His lips were slow in movement, savouring the sweet taste of sugary honeycomb mixing with the bitter wine presented to each other earlier. He gasped into your mouth, opening it to deepen the unity between you by presenting a small flick of his tongue into you. His nose brushed with your own, his hand on your jaw fell immediately to your waist and clutched you firmly against his waist. Brows furrowed in unbridled passion, the world around you fled from memory at each press of his lips against your own.

You slid your hand up to clasp his shoulder, a small squeak fleeing from your mouth into his as he turned your body in a low dip towards the guests in their seats in the pew. This action drew you away from your lustful hypnosis, the applause and cheers of your guests gleefully erupting into the air. He hastily drew your body back upwards with the flitter of your luxurious dress pooling behind you.

“I am now delighted to pronounce, through this seal of unity,” the celebrant concluded her presentation, “The Lord and Lady Dracule of Kuraigana. Celebrate and uphold them, and may jovial celebrations continue into the night with merriment.” Mihawk clasped your hand and placed it into the crook of his left elbow, beginning his ushering of you to flee with him from the ceremony space to continue into your reception.

Several of your guests greeted you both with their offerings of congratulations and affirmations, Red-Hair Shanks prying your husband away from your arms with his arm hooking over his shoulders and ushering him into a warm embrace. You made eye contact with the first mate of the Red-Hair pirates, who offered you a polite smile and the nod of his head; both of which you returned with actions mirroring his own.

However, as soon as you became distracted by the embraces falling to your now husband, your elevated mood of joy was immediately halted as a floating and severed gloved hand clapped over your lips. You could not offer a hum of protest, nor a scream as your body was pried away from Mihawk’s and into the hallway outside of the ceremony space.

“All part of the plan, Starlight,” a soft, nasally voice reaffirmed you in your ear. You turned your head to meet with the face of the flashy-fool himself, his face painted to the highest quality. His hand rejoined his forearm with a small suctioned ‘pop’.

“I’m gonna take my hand away from your face now, alright? You gotta be quiet and listen to what I’m ‘bout to tell you,” He nodded, his eyes serious with no room for joking. You nodded in return, prompting a smile to rise to his lips.

“I’ve done some reading,” Buggy informed you, his tone apprehensive and nervous, “And there’s a custom in Kuraigana regarding weddings that sounds way too fun to be left out of ol’ Hawkie’s.”

“And what may that be, sir Buggy D Clown?” Your frown deepened the longer Buggy kept you away from your new husband. He chuckled at your apprehension, a sly smile now developing further in elevation.

“You are to be dressed in a new gown, no longer a bride but a wife under his name,” he confirmed with a nod, your understanding reflected in your own nod. “As your new dress is placed onto your body, you’re a new woman. And as a new woman,” his eyes twinkled with mischief, “Your groom has to woo you to win back your favor.”

“What are you saying, sir?” you narrowed your eyes, and threw him an accusatory and pointed look.

“What I’m saying, Starlight,” he continued, linking his arms with yours and beginning to shepherd you further away from your celebration, “Is that I’m going to kidnap you and dress you in your starlight gown,” he grimaced a small grin, “I may have had a couple of my crew break in and steal the mannequin earlier,” he quickly uttered before waving his hand in front of him to halt your protests, “And he has to humble himself and perform a skill worthy enough to win your favour.”

Your bewilderment was pictured over your face, looking from his eyes and apprehensively allowing him to draw you to the peer.

“What type of skill, Buggy?” you asked him, your curiosity peaked the longer the clown explained himself.

“Could be anything, Starlight,” he shrugged, his playful smirk pulling wider. His eyes twinkled, the paint falling within the crows feet beneath the blue and white hues, “He could dance, sing, recite poetry, he could even juggle. It truly doesn’t matter as long as you’re impressed and successfully wooed.”

You took the moment to study him. From his painted face, to his beautiful assortment of a red and yellow diamond patterned vest, to his tanned leather pants, and all the way back up to his hair braided and styled away from falling in front of his eyes. He threw his best grin at you, his lips curling in an apprehensive and crooked smile. You shook your head, stepping closer to him.

“Does Mihawk know about this?” You uttered quietly, your dress shifting behind you in your haste. He sighed out a shuddered laugh of dark glee.

“Oh, I’m certain Red-Hair is filling him in right about-...” he trailed off, thinking long and hard about his answer. As soon as your feet found the wood of Buggy’s ship, the anchor rising and sails drawn down by his crew, he gestured to the doors of Castle Kuraigana in the distance.

“-Now.”

#one piece #opla #x reader #opla fic #one piece live action #mihawk #dracule mihawk #mihawk x reader #mihawk fanfiction #sapsorrow au #dracule mihawk x reader #mihawk sapsorrow au #mihawk storyteller au #mihawk fairytale au

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kiwasaji · 8 months

Text

Genshin Men - Do they shower What do they smell like?

a/n: This is just something stupid I thought of when chatting with a friend. Not serious...most of them at least.

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Mondstadt

Albedo - No because he doesn't really have to. He's made of chalk so he's just kinda scentless.

Bennett - He tries to shower but it never works. Stinky boy.

Diluc - Yes, but he does just smell like alcohol due to his job.

Kaeya - Absolutely. He smells great on days he doesn't go to the tavern.

Mika - Yes. He smells like a newborn baby

Razor - No. He smells like wolf shit (literally)

Venti - No, but the overwhelming smell of alcohol covers up any stench.

Liyue

Baizhu - He showers. He smells like a doctor's office in a good way.

Chongyun - He's convinced if he smells the spirits will avoid him even more. He smells like silk flowers. ;)

Xiao - NO. He smells RANCID. never bathed in his life. Closest thing to a shower he's ever had is getting rained on.

Xingqiu - Of course he does. He smells like your typical rich kid. Expensive perfume.

Zhongli - Yes. He smells like a tree tho lmao.

Inazuma

Ayato - Of course. He smells amazing I swear on it.

Gorou - ....no.. He swims that's his bath. Smells like wet dog.

Itto - Not until Shinobu forces his stinky ass to. He smells like a middle school locker room.

Kazuha - He does when he can. Still manages to smell good tho.

Heizou - Yes. Smells so good I'd lick his armpits.

Thoma - Yes. He smells like cleaning supplies like the malewife he is.

Sumeru

Alhaitham - Yes but he uses 13 in one wash. His tits make up for his lack in proper shower hygiene. He smells like a library in a bad way.

Cyno - Only because Tighnari forces him too. Otherwise he'd smell just as bad as Xiao.

Kaveh - Absolutely. He takes bathing so seriously. He smells Amazing.

Tighnari - Yes. He smells like the forest. (so original i know)

Wanderer - Yes. He's not trying to stink. He does smell like cheap body wash tho.

Fontaine

Ferminet - Yes. He smells like Gerber Grins Giggles Sweet Pea Gentle Mild Baby Wash For Hair & Body. (he is my son)

Lyney - Yes. He smells Immaculate

Neuvillette - He does but he can't wash away the smell of rain.

Wriothesley - No. Axe bodyspray and BO.

Fatui

Capitano - Yes, but he'll always smell like blood.

Childe - Yes, but he doesn't wash himself he just lets the water run down. Blood and way too much expensive cologne.

Dottore - NO. Nah, he rubs himself down with rubbing alcohol and calls it a day. Smells like bleach and mildew.

Pantalone - Yes. Just the right amount of expensive cologne.

Peirro - Yes, but he just kinda smells like death.

Pulcinella - Yes. He smells like your typical grandpa.

Other

Aether - No. I'm sorry, but he smells like sweat at the best.

Dainsleif - N O. Another connoisseur of rain baths. Smells awful.

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dr3c0mix · 10 months

Note

eeee I love all your characters I just want to bash their skulls with a chair (affectionately)

this is silly, you are silly, fortunately for you, my boios are also silly.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

Adrian is scared but also kind of turned on- i mean what i mea-

Brandon is also scared but for the fact that you might not like him that much, please don't hit him with a chair, he very much prefers hugs and kisses.

Valeth is impressed and touched by how tough you are to say such a thing. What a warrior spirit! His darling is so strong and feisty! He'll hit you with a chair as well if you'd like ! :D

Bo is aroused scared.

Screw is scared terrified.

Ribs thinks its a challenge and is willing to play fight with you. He a bit silly and goofy like that.

Soda just hears the 'affectionately' part and goes to hug you tight. He loves you too (Y/N) !

Wolfie's tail is wagging intensely. Does his darling want to play? Is that what you're trying to say? He would bare his teeth and jump around playfully like a dog who has something in his mouth that his owner wants him to spit out.

Dorik is happy you feel such intense affection for him! Oh yes bash him in the head with a chair! Its fine, he can take it! In fact, he's worried that you might damage the chair and not him.

Kalva would tilt his head to the side. What's a chair and why do you want to hit him with it? Is it a human custom of showing love? If so can he do it too? Show him how!

Jasper stutters and gets out a little thank you. He's definitely blushing red right now. You want to crack his skull open? How romantic!!

Viktor looks at you with a smirk. "Oh dear~ I didn't know my little bat was so lively!" then it slightly drops. "But you're not really going to do it...right?"

Garrick opens his arms and closes his eyes. Do what you want with him sweetheart! It won't kill him anyways. It takes a lot more than a chair to take him down! Only if you give him kisses afterwards otherwise he'll just think you bashed him with a chair out of spite and he'll start whining and begging for affection.

Silas is concerned. "I think Garrick is having a bad influence on you hun.."

Baron blushes and looks away. "O-Oh..uh..thank you?..Boss.." a little confused but appreciates the statement. You're too adorable sometimes darling~

Caspian is putting on a whole show. He immediately sees it as an opportunity to give you affection himself. "You'd do that to me? Oh how frightening! Maybe you've been out in the sun for too long my darling treasure! Perhaps I should show you what real love feels like~?

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rzyraffek · 10 months

Note

You did a request on fainting in front of Brahms, so how would the Sinclair Brothers react to reader fainting? Thank you! Y’all have a good one! :3

Yay! My writing spirit came back! So now imma spam you all with fanfics!! I also wrote a bit more that JUST Sinclair bros

They/them, sfw, Request Open

Slashers with s/o that faints

Bo sinclair

Will immediately pick them up, check for any damage.

Will be stressed af, and get so protective i swear

Will overthink it, he kinda has anger issues so he might think he did something that casued it??? Idk

When s/o wakes up he gonna be so realived. They really gave him a scare

Will ask if anyone hurt them? Or is it like normal for them

Overall 7/10 probably died 5times while waiting for you to wake up

Vincent Sinclair

Tralala vibing with my love lala HU- WHY ARE THRT ON FLOOR??? UHH BO? BO! S/O IS IN FLOOR

Will knee and check breathing and heart beat. Of thank god at least they are alive

With bo's help carried them to bed room and he didnt leave their side! Holding their hand whole time

When they wake up he gonna shower them with kisses and hugs!!! Yay so you are alive!!! Yay!!

Will lay in bed with them, moving his legs in air while s/o turns into Wiki page and tells him all sympptoms, what to do ect

Overall 8/10 live laugh love Vincent

Lester Sinclair

S/o got to tell this man about their 'fainting problem' before it happends

Bcs this dude might cry, or have mental break down

Especially if it happend when yall where in Forest, AWAY FROM ANYONE THAT COULD HELP OR COMFORT

S/o probavly gonna wake up in middle of car ride home and this guy will be so relived

Guy will acually take notes of stuff he needs to know about their fainting problem, so in case he panics next time he has everything written down

Overall 9/10 boy is doing his best

Jason Voorhees

P.A.N.I.C

Immediately picks them up, so so worried, will check their heartbeat by putting his ear on their chest

Lays them down on the most comfy bed he could find in this god forsaken camp

Sits down next to it (probably in chair or if there's non he will just sit on ground)

When they wake up he will be so so happy but also so so puzzled? Did you ate something bad? Were you too hot? Too tired? Too worried? What happened! Tell him

You gotta to tell him step by step how to react, how to notice that s/o will faint and what to do afterwards

Man will be on full alert after every time they pass out. Like this guy will lay them gently down, put water bottle right next to them so it's close and litteraly stab anyone in 100meter radius (boi gets protective)

Overall 8/10 good care taker

Myers Micheal

... okay? So your sleeping now??? Weird

Nah but fr he was in ASYLUM for FEW years, he probably saw plenty of people who pass out, due to stress, emotions, self destructive stuff ect ect

So he knows what to do and how to do. But he simply doesn't want to lol

Hes sure that you will be fine. He will just make sure that you didht break anything or that you are laying in position that makes you able to breath of course

S/o gonna wake up with muscle pain and headache :(

Gonna tell micheal that. No babe you arent edgy, you are just an asshole

Next time he gonna sigh loudly and put s/o back to bed. Only because they gonna be mad at him afterwards.. its not that he cares! Pfff micheal? He totally doesn't care pfff

Overall 4/10 will judge the position you passed out in

Billy lenz

Will sit on their chest, litteraly he gonna choke them frfr. But he didnt mean to so it doesnt count!

Will talk to them while they are passed out

Will drag them to couch because no way in hell hes going to drag them all way upstairs

Will get bored and lonley >:(

When s/o wakes up they have to explain to him that, no s/o wasn't sleeping, they were timed out of life

Gonna bring them glas of water

Gonna look at them with his goblin eyes,and be like 'sooo can we play uno now?' 'Honey I see everything doubled now 'okay... so can we play uno now'

Next time they pass out he is gonna put them in so many blankets they turn into burrito (not only in looks but also its probably extremely hot)

Overall 6/10 would rather play uno

Asa emory

"Ooh honey..." picks them up✅, carries to bed✅, puts in right position✅, grabs water and mess from kitchen✅

He is so ✅✅✅

Will ask them about how they feel, do they need to puke? Maybe stronger meds? Are you cold? Or maybe too hot?

But he isn't very 'in your face' with all those questions, he asks them just like doctor would, with absolute no emotion or huge facial reactions. He knows it might be stressful or overwhelming

Will give space if needed

He also made sure to reread books and articles about people who pass out randomly to make sure to read theirs body language

Dont worry little butterfly you can rest now

Overall 10/10 but made you watch his beatle collections while you couldn't leave bed

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trutrustories · 5 months

Text

STUDY IN LOKI ROMANCE

Part 2: Breaking Brad

Since we're only a few days away from the last episode, I decided to COUNT DOWN everything we´ve got so far ( that can be interpreted very easily as romantic ) and discuss what the actual fuck is going on with second season. Because even though I shipped lokius practically from S1E2, I absolutely did NOT expect this kind of development. (Not that I´m complaining)

Warning: This is gonna be LONG post, lots of screenshots, lots of SPOILERS, lot of "oh-my-god-they-so-cute" language, and little bit of meta.

I originally thought that this post would be everything at once, but since I have just too many screenshots this time around, I´ll have to split it. so every post will be one episode. Color coding means:

IIIIIIIIII = anything, that coud potentialy be just acting choice.

IIIIIIIIII = everything else (tzn.: whatever was written, and/or carefully prepared by filmmakers. )

side note: I already wrote, about how amazing it is, that Mobius is unable to fight but fights anyway and how beautifuly, and ridiculously brave he is HERE. But this is about Loki/Mobius interactions, so I´ll try my best not to talk about THAT. (Even when I´m really happy, that s2 continues with this formula and Mobius is still his completely defenseless while aggressively brave self. I love him, btw.)

EPISODE 1 HERE

Okay, Check-list, ep 2:

11) matching suits part 1 THIS ⬇️ costume department did a great job and they look badass together also, they´re walking very close to each other.

12) Loki defending /saving Mobius from Brad (with magic!) also, Mobius, dear, (my beloved) you were really going for it! Always so ready to fight! I can´t xD

Loki "don´t u dare hurt him" Laufeyson, look at his face!

13) Mobius and Loki struggling to assemble IKEA furniture- sorry Tapmad together

14) " And he knows..." I mean yeah, sure. keep remind us, that Mobius knows everything about Loki, and saw him at his worst, so we can appreciate even more the fact, that Mobius likes him and cares for him so damn much 💚🤎

15) Loki finding Mobius´s joke amusing Mobius: cracking joke right after Loki´s threatening speech:

Loki:

16) Loki being very concerned for Mobius after his outburst, saying that It´s okay, and then suggests having pie because he knows Mobius so well and is avare of the fact, that his man is stress eater I´m gonna cry they´re too pure for MCU someone adopt them

17) Bickering like married couple (part 2) 18) The whole freaking pie scene!

Just them, sharing calm, intimate moment together

Mobius opening up to Loki, and admiting he "lost it"

Loki trying to make him feel better and absolutely KILLING IT! btw, I know, that some people think, this scene doesn´t make sense, because Loki didn´t "lost it" during avengers, but was controlled by mind stone, etc.... well I think that it actually doesn´t matter. Guess what else doesn´t make sense? For example the fact, that they already talked about Loki fighting Avengers ( during their first meeting.) Loki is aware, that Mobius saw New York invasion at least twice now, and he´s telling him anyway. I would say, that point here is Loki trying to lift Mobius´s spirit, entertain him, make him smile. Why else woud he start his monolog by "remember, when...?" And I think, that this is huge, actually: Loki, using his bad memory, defeat, his humulianting experience to make Mobius feel better. So not only, that we see, he no longer care about being rurel but we see him making lightly fun of it FOR MOBIUS´S SAKE! He has different priorities now... our immortal god is a grown man now... it´s just so fucking beautiful... 🥺

Also Mobius saying to Loki: "come on, you´re the God of Mischief" Like it´s a best thing in the world, and Loki gives him THIS LOOK! (I mean that head tilt would be considered "acting" category, but I´m already making concessions by including all these things under one number :D

19) Loki and Mobius: mischievous duo

Mobius trusts him so completly!

They both such a drama queens!

And they works so well together!

like... seriously, Brad didn´t see this coming, AT ALL! xD

also... Loki complimenting his plan?!

20) "They say opposites attract. NO." Mobius´s wishfull thinking xD (But hey, it IS true. Opposites attracts. And works greatly together. That´s the only reason, why, for example, trope like grumpy one/sunshine one is so popular!) I can´t! just look at his face 🤣 Oh honey! just calm down

He is sooooooo NOT chill here xD bless him

21) Loki, not following Sylvie, but actually staying with Mobius and comforting him. AGAIN. (which is an absolutely glaring contrast compared to episode 2 in first season!)

#loki spoilers #lokius #loki season 2 #loki and mobius #MCU #mobius m mobius #mobius #owen wilson #tom hiddleston

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hungrywriter · 6 months

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Herbs & Hearts (pt.1)

Raiden x f!reader

Raiden and Kung Lao entered Madam Bo's restaurant, instantly greeted by a delightful medley of sweet and savoury smells emanating from the kitchen where Madam Bo worked her culinary magic. They were welcomed by the owner herself, who guided them to their usual table, the spot where they often hung out.

As usual, they playfully argued over who would be picking up the tab for their meal. After this spirited exchange, they stood up in an open area to engage in a friendly martial arts match. Their battle was intense, but in the end, Kung Lao emerged as the winner. His celebration, however, led to an accident when he bumped into a waiter carrying a bowl of noodles, causing the food to go airborne.

The whole restaurant fell silent, anticipating a mess, but from the kitchen, a figure swiftly emerged, wearing a farmer's hat and the familiar restaurant's apron. With incredible dexterity, this person skillfully caught the flying food and restored it to the tray, as if the accident never occurred. The customers, initially holding their breath, broke into applause. The restaurant quickly returned to its usual bustling activity, with the incident soon forgotten.

Raiden and Kung Lao couldn't contain their curiosity and approached the mysterious saviour. When the figure looked up, they immediately recognized her as Y/n, their childhood friend. Y/n was the adopted daughter of Madam Bo, the chef of the restaurant. Madam Bo had found Y/n as a baby, abandoned at her doorstep with nothing but a tattered cloth to protect her frail body. There were stories circulating that suggested divine intervention, as some believed that gods had descended from the heavens to save her. These tales led some superstitious parents in the neighbourhood to warn their children to be cautious around Y/n, fearing that they might inadvertently offend these mysterious deities and bring about a curse.

However, it was only Raiden who immediately welcomed Y/n as a friend. Kung Lao, on the other hand, needed some convincing, but as the years passed, he too grew to love Y/n, not only as a friend but also for her exceptional fighting skills. The trio grew up together and trained martial arts under Madam Bo, forging a strong and enduring bond.

Y/n smiled at them and continued serving customers. The two friends couldn't contain their joy and embraced Y/n. The boys were aware of Y/n's deep passion for plants and her fascination with studying various herbs. She was often found in her room, conducting experiments and nurturing her own herbs. This love for botanical pursuits led her to embark on journeys in search of herbs that she insisted couldn't be found in the village.

Initially, the boys expressed concern and offered to accompany her on these trips, but Y/n politely declined their assistance. Madam Bo, too, advised them not to accompany Y/n, encouraging her independence. In order to avoid upsetting the wise elder woman, the boys eventually accepted and let Y/n pursue her herb-hunting adventures on her own.

"Y/n, when did you come back? We've missed you!" Kung Lao said, affectionately pinching her cheeks. The female laughed at his actions and put her hands over his to get him away from her cheeks.

"I got back this morning. Mother told me to rest, but you know I can't just sit still for too long," Y/n replied as she picked up a tray of food from the kitchen and resumed serving the customers, with the boys trailing behind her. As she went about her tasks, Raiden couldn't help but notice the bandage on her left foot and her slight limp when she walked.

"What happened to your foot?" he inquired. Setting the food on a table, Y/n turned to face them, a touch perplexed at first, but then realising what he was referring to.

"Oh, I just ran into a bit of trouble during my journey," she nonchalantly shrugged. However, seeing their worried expressions, she swiftly reassured them that she had managed the situation. Kung Lao offered a hearty chuckle and cheered for her, while Raiden could only shake his head, sighing in concern.

Y/n felt a slight disappointment in his reaction, but her spirits lifted when he smiled at her. He gently placed his hand on her shoulder and pulled her close to his chest.

"Well, as long as you come back in one piece, love petal," he whispered, kissing her head. Y/n returned the hug and turned her head away to hide the growing blush on her face. Kung Lao let out an exaggerated scoff and rolled his eyes before heading back to their table. The duo then parted ways and joined each other at their table, ready to relish their meal and dive into a conversation about Y/n's recent adventures.

#mk raiden #raiden x reader #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat 1 2023 #mk1 x reader #kung lao

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goodfish-bowl · 1 month

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Never Really Knew (DP x DC)

DP Side Hoes Week 2024 Master Post

Day 5: Dani - self-defense

Summary: There were plenty of things she knew, but it was all things that had been downloaded into her head. There was very few things that Dani had actually experienced in her extremely short life. Dani’s trip after being freed from Vlad goes well until it takes a turn into Gotham, New Jersey. Takes place after "Kindred Spirits", but before "D-Stabilized".

Word Count: 2173

AO3 Link

Dani had known that traveling by herself would be dangerous. She knew it in the same way she knew advanced mathematics and classic literature. It was knowledge she had but had never experienced, programmed and downloaded into her head. She knew a lot of things this way, and very few things the other way. Dani had wanted to experience everything, to learn the way everyone else did. But she hadn’t known, not really, just how dangerous this task would be for her. She doubted Danny knew either, or he probably wouldn’t have let her go.

Dani wasn’t having any trouble with money, so to say, Vlad’s credit card covered that, but there were very few places that would both accept credit and let a 12-year-old rent a room for the night. So while she was good on food and any other thing, shelter was a lot harder to manage. It had been fun, at first, buying a tent and camping equipment, and staying at parks while she explored the area, but yet again, a 12-year-old couldn't rent out a campground, so it was a bit riskier every night she stayed. If she stayed in the wrong place or too long, she would get chased out. She lost a few tents this way. She lost a few more to thefts that happened while she was out and about.

The campground was fine when she was just about, but they weren’t always an option, like in the bigger cities, where she was now. Normally, Dani was able to keep her head low, and hang out on a rooftop for the night, but that wasn’t really a good option with vigilantes of Gotham frequenting those spaces too. She had to find a different place to sleep for the night, which she supposes is what got her into this whole mess too. That and not knowing, to an instinctual degree, that she should not have come to Gotham all alone.

Dani had bunked down for the night in one of the many abandoned buildings around, even setting up her cot and some of her other camping equipment. This was not where she had woken up.

Dani woke up with a full body ache and a piercing migraine, and immediately curled up on herself with a soft hiss. Everything hurt. Slowly, as Dani came to, her senses faded back into focus. It smelt generally terrible, like BO and urine, along with the faint tinge of mold and cigarettes. There was the sound of someone else crying near her, whimpering, and the more distant sound of laughter. She could feel the bare concrete under her as it tried to drain away what little body heat she actually produced. Her tongue tasted vile in her mouth, still full of fuzz with a metallic aftertaste in the back of her throat.

Dani was locked in a dark, generally dingy cell, with the only light coming from a yellow street light that managed to crawl in through the basement window, and a white fluorescent light that climbed under the door. There were a few other kinds locked up in here with her, in various stages of crying or passed out. Some of them were hurt, bad. Dani had been kidnapped in the worst city to be kidnapped.

Slowly, feeling her whole body protest, Dani pushed herself to a kneeling position, drawing the other kids' eyes to her. She gave them a shaky smile that probably looked closer to a grimace. Dani felt her clothes and found that all the belongings she kept in her packets were gone. Darn, no more credit card. No more anything, really. Well, that sucked, but it wasn’t like they could keep her here for long, ghost powers and all that. Dani should get out as soon as she can, and run for the hills. She was sure whoever had captured her wouldn’t even notice one less child.

Dani strained her ears to listen to the voices from under the door, but a sniffle from one of the other kids in the room stopped her in her tracks, shutting down her plan of running out alone. Stupid Danny and his stupid protective streak. She would have to figure out how to get them all out together, and probably fast if the pick up in activity from under the door was any indication. Dani went over to the window, straining to look out of it, trying to figure out where it let out.

“Hey,” Dani whispered. “Do any of you know where we are?”

There was a soft murmuring among the other children, before a scruffy-looking boy answered her in a thick Gotham accent. “Somewhere in Crime Alley. That window has metal bars in it, no way to get out from there.”

Dani hissed under her breath, letting go of the window sill from where she was straining to lift herself onto it.

“Do you know where it leads?” She followed up.

“Just some scummy alley.”

Dani nodded, that was at least something good, no one would notice if she passed some of the others through intangibly.

“Okay, I can get us out,” Dani declared, keeping her voice intentionally low.

“How do you plan to do that? You a meta or something?” one of the slightly older girls demanded.

“Something like that,” Dani answered sheepishly. “Come on, I can take us directly through the wall,” Dani gestured through the window.

The others were too scared to protest, and slowly Dani began to file them one to two at a time through the wall, into the alley above. Every trip burned through her reserves, and she hadn’t noticed just how many of them were in the cell with her. After the fourth trip, Dani felt fragile, only able to pass the boy with the thick local accent through, but not able to go through herself, she would hurt herself if she tried.

“Butter biscuits… I can’t get out, I’m out of energy,” Dani called out. She was going to have to figure a way out, no powers unless absolutely necessary, she might risk destabilization otherwise.

The boy peered down at her from the window, looking grim. “I’ll go get help,” he stated before leaving her all alone in the room.

Dani let herself drop to the ground as soon as he was gone. She felt so tired, vaguely ill, and tried her best not to not fall back asleep, but still get a little bit more rest before the rest of her grand escape. She spent those minutes listening to the voices as best as she could, planning. She really shouldn’t use her powers for the next bit, but Dani also really needed her stuff back. It would have to be worth the risk, it was the only way she could really afford anything. All she needed was just her wallet with the card in it. Everything else could be replaced, emergency cellphone included. She might have a window to get it when whatever help that boy had mentioned showed up.

The voices on the other side of the door grew frantic along with an even more distant sound of gunshots and shattering glass. The door slammed open, causing Dani to fall onto her back in fright. The man’s eyes were blown wide in fear, teeth bared. His eyes narrowed as he probably noticed the lack of children in the room, and spat out a nasty curse before his eyes locked onto her.

“Fuck it, we only need one hostage, a half-dead brat will have to do,” the man spat, practically snatching her up by the arms, causing Dani to cry out in pain.

Dani had to scrunch up her eyes under the artificial white lights, leading into an open warehouse. She struggled for just a second before there was something cold and metal pressing against her temple.

“Try it, brat, and your brains will be blown out all over the floor,” the man growled, and Dani froze.

It was a gun. Dani knew it was a gun, and finally, it sunk in just how much danger she was really in, and tears began to run down her face. She didn’t want to die! She had only just begun to learn how to live in the first place. She needed more than a few months to figure herself out!

The man didn't do anything as Dani began to cry, but one of the other roughly dressed goons in the room, holding an even bigger gun, sent the one holding her a dirty look, before a confused realization passed over him.

“Where the other kids?” The other guy asked.

“Hell if I know. Only one left was this shrimp who looks well and ready to keel over. She’ll fucking have to do.”

There was another loud bang as a door somewhere in the warehouse was thrown open.

“Red Hood! Don’t fucking try it or I off the kid!”

Dani strained to see through her tears and hysterics. Was this guy supposed to be her help? But Dani was already held hostage, how much help could this ‘Red Hood’ be?

“You know I don’t like people fucking around with kids on my turf,” a modulated, artificial voice spat.

“Which is why you’re going to let us go, so that this little girl’s brains don’t end up splattered all over the ground,” The guy holding the bigger gun argued back.

There was a creak from the rafters and the other guy opened fired, sending rounds into the ceiling. A large figure dropped down, returning fire as they fell. Dani’s eyes widened at the heavily armed figure in a red helmet and leather jacket. He was both the coolest and most terrifying person Dani had ever seen. The guy with the bigger gun went down with only a few well-aimed shots.

Red Hood towered over Dani’s current kidnapper, who pressed the gun harder into her temple, causing another wave of panic to go through her as her eyes strained to dart back and forth between the man holding her and her ‘savior’ who had just definitely killed someone.

“There you are, you shitty bastard,” her kidnapper growled. “Now!”

Gunshots came from a completely different direction, catching Red Hood by surprise, but not before he managed to take out one of the two new assailants, and a stray bullet slammed into the arm holding the gun to Dani’s head. The man recoiled, practically tossing both her and the gun aside, forgotten. Dani ducked down, scrambling the best she could away from the center of the fight, but exhaustion and a horrible pinch in her ankle weighed down on her entire being.

Dani looked back after hearing a few more gunshots. The guy who had been holding her was dead, but Red Hood had taken a couple of hits himself, stuck kneeling as the final kidnapper pointed his gun directly at Red Hood. He was going to be killed, and then Dani knew she would quickly follow him. Panic seized her body and core, dredging up what little energy it could. She couldn’t let Red Hood be killed, Dani didn’t want to die.

Dani dove for the gun that had been tossed away in her. The knowledge of how to use a gun quickly clicked into place, just like all of those other things she knew and had never experienced. Dani was keen on never feeling the chill of a live firearm in her hands again, nor the image of the man dropping dead from a clean shot as she fired.

The gun clattered to the ground and Dani was well aware that Red Hood was full-on staring at her beneath his helmet.

“Kid-” the modulated voice called out, but Dani yanked on her invisibility, pulling as hard as she could, running off.

Dani had killed someone, sending full-on shivers and nausea through her, compounded by the protests of her fragile anatomy as she tried to maintain invisibility. She quickly found her things, which had been haphazardly tossed into a corner, snatching the wallet and nothing else. It felt like she was falling apart.

Dani made it to the exit before Red Hood spotted her again.

“Wait!” He called out, sounding panicked.

Dani couldn’t help the reflexive glance back, likely showcasing the bright glow of her eyes, and the thick trickle of ectoplasm as it seeped out of her nose before she fled into the night. There was cursing and heavy steps behind her, so Dani did the only thing she could and transformed as soon as she was out of direct eyesight, doing her best to ignore the familiar sensation of destabilization as it began to set in. She even ignored the swear-storm of the vigilante she left behind in the alley. Dani was going back to Amity Park as soon as she could, but she now knew, deep in her gut and in the sour taste of ectoplasm in the back of her throat, just how dangerous it could be on her own.

#danny phantom #dp x dc #goodfish writes #dp side hoes week 2024 #dani phantom #red hood #dp x dc crossover #finally gave in and did it #I needed a dangerous city and a vigilante for plot reasons #cw: kidnapping #tw: death #tw: guns #tw: gun violence #failed my 'don't severely traumatize any of the character for a week-long event' challenge #darn i guess sorry dani

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fenricken · 19 days

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You Keep Slipping From My Grasp 4/7

AO3

Ship: Spirit Halloween

first

The rain fell heavily, washing the blood on the ground away as he stepped toward the woman. She was hunched over, sobbing, clutching her dead son to her chest. She glanced up at him as he approached, mouthing silent prayers.

“What happened here?” he asked, carefully ignoring the dead bodies around.

“They came… for a box my family has guarded for a long time. They killed my husband and my son, and they’ve taken my Catherine… They’ll torture her to make her speak its secrets. Please! Please, help her!”

She reached out a hand to him, imploringly. He crouched down to take it.

“I will.”

————

Danny stood before Clockwork, adjusting his new cowboy hat. Maddie and Jack stood behind Clockwork tinkering on the Fenton Omega Siphoner, and arguing over the aesthetics of the machine.

“I have already sent Dani out to help the Justice League locate Batman’s cape. Hopefully we should receive word on her success soon.” Clockwork began, “In the meantime, we do still need someone to make sure Batman doesn’t rush forward too quickly, lest he build up too much energy before we can stop him. Are you ready?”

“Always ready for bat-sitting duty. I’d hope he’s doing something a bit calmer this time, but I suppose there’s no chance of that happening.” Danny responded, pointing to his hat.

Clockwork just gave his usual cryptic smile before opening a portal for Danny to step through.

————

“Roooooobin. Rooooooooobin.”

Tim whirled around, searching for the source of the noise.

“Oooh, new fit?” Poltergeist asked, stepping out of the shadows. “Ugly cowl, but I like the rest of it.”

Tim lowered his bo staff at her, readying himself for whatever chaotic ‘game’ she tried to rope him into this time.

“Your city’s on fire. You bats trying out some new defense mechanism or something? Like, you think no rogue would want to take over Gotham if it’s a pile of rubble and ash?” She turned in a circle, surveying the chaos Gotham was under.

“What do you want, Poltergeist?”

“Well, so like, Batman’s stuck in time, right? And-”

“How do you know that?!” Red Robin cut in. He had been struggling to convince everyone that Batman was still alive ever since he found those paintings on the walls of the Batcave. Suddenly, here was Poltergeist who seemed to know something about it, but he couldn’t trust her. She was unpredictable, and running into her could mean leaving with anything as benign yet uncomfortable as soaked socks or as irritating and hindering as being cursed to only speak dead languages for the next 3 days.

And things only got worse if she was tagging along with Klarion. Fortunately, he wasn’t in sight, so it's unlikely he was here with her.

“What do you want?”

She smiled slightly at him. “Oh! I want to get Batman back where he belongs before he dies or explodes everything.”

Explodes everything?

“I mean, Gotham’s got a grumpy quota and since you’re his mini-me I figured you’d start trying to take it on and that’d be so boring.” She raised her pointer fingers to the side of her head, imitating Batman’s cowl and adopted a nasally voice. “I don’t have time to play, Poltergeist. Gotham needs me. I have to go stalk Penguin, and then I need to go brood on my favorite gargoyle.”

“So you want to help me find Batman so that I will… be able to play with you?”

“Well, that, but also if he makes his way to the present day on his own, he’ll have built up enough of something called Omega Energy to make all of reality go ka-blooey, and I actually really like this universe. Top 10, easily.”

Tim held up his hand to stop the oncoming ramble while he compartmentalized.

First, Poltergeist knew Bruce was lost in the time stream and seemed to want to help.

Second, Bruce was making his way back to the present, and by doing so was becoming a living bomb

Third, Poltergeist is a multiversal being???

That last one can probably be ignored for now.

“If I were to let you help me find Batman, where do you suggest we start? I’ve been tracking down artifacts I think he’s left behind to try and convince the Justice League to help us-”

“Psh. Justice League Shmustice League. My dad and my Nana and Pops are already working on it. We just need to find the cape he was sent back in time with for them. Besides, I can probably convince Wonder Woman to help us get the Justice Dorks to help out once we get the cape if we really need to.”

What.

“What?”

“My grandparents are building a thingy-thing to suck all the Omega Energy out of Batman so he’s not a bomb. My dad’s hanging out with him to keep him from dying or something, and we’re supposed to find his cape so we can safely yoink him out of the time stream.”

“I didn’t know you had parents??? What do they do while you’re here breaking things???”

Poltergeist shrugged “King things I guess. And I only have a dad.”

“King things???”

She rolled her eyes, “Anyway, Dad said he last saw Batman’s cape in the Batcave.”

“You didn’t answer my question, and I’m not taking you to the Batcave.”

Poltergeist landed on her feet, and stared at him with wide eyes. He stared back, caught in her gaze for what felt like an eternity, as he felt invisible fingers trickle up his spine. Whispers started low in his ears, building to a crescendo. It was getting too much to bear, until he broke eye contact and looked away. All of a sudden, it stopped. Tim heaved a big sigh.

“I’m… kinda fighting with the current Batman, so we’ll have to sneak in.”

She punched both arms into the air, “YES!”

Tim turned, flicking his cape and walking off, not waiting to see if she’d follow.

“Poltergeist, when this is over you are going to be answering my questions.”

He heard her blow a raspberry at his back, but kept walking.

————

He followed their trail easily enough, the rain trailing after him. As he reached his destination, men came out to fight him, readying pistols, but he made short work of them easily enough.

With his memory having returned in bits and pieces, it had been easy to fashion metal into bat shapes aerodynamic enough to hit true when thrown, and it was these he’d used to disarm the men.

These memories were useful. The ones of children with blurry faces less so, haunting him as they stayed just out of his complete grasp. A constant reminder of how lost and alone he was.

He steadily made his way to the headquarters, where he figured they were keeping Catherine. He whirled around, sensing someone approaching from behind. It was the man with white hair, again.

“Seems you’ve got this well enough in hand, but I hope you don’t mind if I’d tag along all the same.”

“Why?”

The white haired man smiled slightly. “Will you not believe that I just want to help you?”

He stared, unblinking and quiet. Memories from before had proven this a good method to get more information.

His target stared back, also quiet and unblinking. It wasn’t long before he started shifting, and not much longer before he finally spoke again. Under his breath, almost too quiet to hear, he muttered “Just like Dani, I swear…”

Louder, the man said, “I’ve not known you to be the kind of man to ever be on the wrong side of a cause. Whatever you’re up to, I just want to help.”

He squinted at the man, trying to find any evidence of a lie, but the man just appeared open and honest.

“No guns,” he says, before turning back around and leading the white haired man on towards the headquarters.

As they got closer, they noticed two men standing guard. He deployed smoke bombs to cover their approach, sneaking closer with his companion close behind. They were spotted, but the smoke did its work, scaring the two guards and allowing him and his companion to disappear from view again.

“How you gonna tell me there’s no such things as ghosts now???” One of them whimpered, apparently to his white-haired friend’s delight, as he broke out in giggles.

As the smoke continued to grow, he and his friend snuck around the two, tricking them into fighting each other.

He broke through into the offices in the back. They were unfortunately empty.

“Already gone!” He said, slamming a hand on the desk. His companion stood at the window.

“Not long though, look!”

When he spotted their carriage speeding away through the window, he knew he had to act quickly. He launched himself out of the window, and onto the tarp covering the wagon.

An explosion sounded behind him, but he focused on the task ahead of him. His friend always seemed to find his way back, so he’d have to trust he’d do it again.

The ensuing fight was nothing pretty, little more than mad scrambling as he fought to hold his balance, dodge bullets, and wrestle the men actually in the cart so he could get away with the Catherine and her family’s box.

Looking ahead, he saw they were quickly approaching the dock, and a man who was walking down it. Thinking quickly, he swung his body-weight around, tipping the wagon over and sending everyone sprawling.

The man who had been at the dock had acted quickly, grabbing the young woman and holding her protectively behind him. He stood up, adding to the obstacles that stood protecting Catherine from her kidnappers. Only 3 men remained. From the snippets he heard as two of them fought, he figures the two fighting must’ve been the masterminds behind the plot and the third still in the distance was a gun-for-hire. Taking out his weapons of choice, he quickly dispatched the two men.

Catherine tugged on his cloak. He turned to face her, seeing that she had opened up the box, and was showing him what was inside.

It was Jack Valor’s journal.

He wanted to reach out–to see what Jack had added since they parted, but the gun-for-hire had caught up to them by then.

“My employers may have been dealt with, but I still have a reputation to uphold. Draw.”

He stood up straight, reaching for more of his weapon of choice. Over the shoulder of the gun-for-hire, he saw another man approaching quickly, white-haired. His friend.

A loud bang echoed, and he felt pain in his side. He stumbled, too close to the edge of the dock, and as he fell over he heard one last cry of ‘BAT–’.

And everything went dark.

————

Shit.

Shit. Shit. SHIT.

As if Batman stumbling towards the present through who-knows-when wasn’t bad enough, now he’s SHOT???

Danny quickly ripped a portal back to Clockwork’s lair.

“Please tell me you’ve almost got the machine ready.” Danny said after confirming his parents were in the room.

“Almost! Just one problem, sweetie…” His mom said, looking over at her husband so he’d finish.

“Batman needs to die. Or at least be very close to death!” Jack said, ending with a laugh.

“Basically, we can get this machine to suck out the Omega Energy, but it’s tightly bonded with Batman’s life energy, so it’s extremely risky unless we can find a way to diminish his life energy.”

Danny groaned, putting his face in his hands. “It’s just one thing after another! He’s just been shot. Would that bring him close enough?”

His dad tilted his head back and forth, considering. “Likely not, unless he was in a pretty bad way. In any case, we asked Sam and Tucker to take a look into it!”

“We’ve already found something, actually.” Sam said, having entered the room. Tucker followed behind her.

“There’s an herb that I was able to locate, which should slow his heart down to extreme levels, to the point his heartbeat would be pretty undetectable. Only problem is that his heart would have to be jump-started afterward by a great shock.”

“Clockwork let me take a closer look at his monitors into Batman’s original time and place, and I was able to determine that they have defibrillator technology that can administer an electrical shock needed to get his heart pumping again, as well as adrenaline injections in case we’d need the extra boost.” Tucker continued.

Maddie clapped her hands together. “Excellent! If we can get the Justice League to set up the anchor point on the Watchtower, we can pull Batman to that point and perform everything there! It’d probably work best to do it in his original time as well, to avoid any potential effects that could crop up from being in the wrong time when we remove the Omega Energy and try to stabilize his system.”

“Great, some good news.” Danny said, tension leaving his body. He turned to Clockwork, who had been quiet thus far. “How’s Dani’s work coming along? Will we be ready to proceed soon?”

“Dani and Red Robin have recovered Batman’s cape, and have moved it to the Watchtower. I believe Dani was able to recruit Wonder Woman’s help into getting the rest of the Justice League in line to receive Batman.”

————

“Red Robin! Did you seriously bring Poltergeist into the cave??? What were you thinking?”

Before Tim could reply, Poltergeist raised a hand to point at Dick-as-Batman.

“AAH! It’s the cops! Run!”

Poltergeist placed her hand on Tim’s shoulder, pulling him and the cape through the ceiling of the batcave and up in the open air of Gotham. As Tim caught sight of Wayne Manor his head whipped towards Poltergeist, hoping she wouldn’t make any connections.

She was staring at him, lips pressed together, looking a bit like a frog.

He was quiet, waiting for her to say something.

She blew a breath of air out, letting her lips buzz.

“Listen, you keep my secret, and I won’t tell anyone Batman’s secret id is some rich fruitloop.”

“...What secret?”

She pivoted them somewhere Southeast.

“That sometimes I can be responsible. Let’s go see Wonder Woman.”

AN:

It's definitely been longer than I had planned since the last update, rip.

Not going to lie, this is like my second ever fic and I definitely thought it'd be a bit easier to get back into the habit of writing. Thought I was making it easier on my self by strongly sticking to the plot of an existing story, but I think that's been an obstacle in and of itself.

Always a little worried that the language is a bit stuffy or things aren't being clear.

#dpxdc #dc x dp #batman comic rewrite basically #dp x dc crossover #spirit halloween ship

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strangererotica · 15 days

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EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Jim Hopper x reader • Hopper has been your dad’s best friend for years. He always thought you were a nice, if not slightly awkward, kid. But when you return home to Hawkins during a break from college, Hopper is immediately smitten with the young woman you’ve become. He indulges his infatuation with you in the only way he can. Hopper lets his mind run wild with a fantasy that’s become familiar to him, even though his feelings for you leave him racked with guilt. And maybe that’s where the story would end for Hopper, alone and burning up in a desire he would never be set free from… But when you came home to Hawkins, you brought with you a knowledge, a craft, that a practical man like Hopper would never give credence to, until it captures him wholly, body-mind-and spirit…

Quiet moments like this were the most difficult for Hopper. When he wasn’t physically kept busy with his job, he was mentally kept busy by his conscience. Guilt tended to creep up on him most acutely in the moments he should have been able to rest, especially the early hours of morning. While Hopper believed mornings should be spent with warm coffee and personal introspection, he found it impossible to practice what he preached.

In fact, Hopper’s hypocrisy extended to more than one area in his life. While the town of Hawkins assumed their Chief of Police was, for the most part, an upstanding and honorable man, he harbored an uncomfortable secret that burned in the back of his heart: Jim Hopper was in love with his best friend’s daughter…

If only you’d never come back to Hawkins, Hopper told himself, he wouldn’t be caught in this moral storm. If you’d stayed away at college, Hopper never would have given you a second thought, except for when your dad mentioned you. His only memory of you would have remained the one Hopper had always had, of you as a skinny, polite-but-awkward kid.

The current image of you in Hopper’s mind was vastly different. You were all grown up now, the clumsiness of your youth replaced with a woman’s elegance. A gentle, refined softness had replaced all your rough edges, the gangly limbs of your teen years now shaped into the graceful form of a young woman. A beautiful woman, Hopper realized, who had him completely wrapped around your finger…

The day began as a regular Monday morning for Hopper, complete with the weight of guilt on his conscience. He stared up at the ceiling from bed and had a cigarette, his free hand moving beneath the blanket covering him, lazily massaging his cock. Hopper had always taken care of his morning wood, usually as his first activity of every day. But what now darkened his behavior and made it feel wrong, was the fact that Hopper couldn’t touch himself without thinking of you…

He tried to imagine someone else…anyone else. Hopper’s usual mental reference for masturbation was Bo Derek, an actress he’d had a crush on for years. The recurring fantasy Hopper had entertained for so long now felt stale in comparison to his thoughts of you…You, with your pretty, bright eyes flashing wide up at Hopper, a blush blooming on your cheeks as you realize he’s standing in the doorway of your room…as you realize he’s been standing there, watching you undress, for minutes now. And you’re covering yourself with the first item of clothing you could grab, a thin t-shirt, clutching it over your breasts in an attempt to hide your nakedness...

…But the shirt’s fabric is too sheer to provide any true coverage, any real protection from Hopper’s penetrating, wolfish stare. He steps inside your room, closing the door behind him, and presses in the lock with his thumb…

In the privacy of his bed, Hopper’s hand moved with more direction beneath the sheet, his grip around his cock tensing. As usual, he’d give in to the temptation that plagued him daily: he was going to come to the fantasy of you.

In Hopper’s mind, there were no moral obstacles in his way, no societal expectations from anyone preventing him from having you. He could fuck your face, your tits, your cunt, your ass, and come anywhere on and in you that he pleased. No one was there to stop him in the safe enclosure of his fantasy. And Hopper allowed himself to indulge.

“…Chief?” your wide eyes darted over his face. “W-what are you doing here?”

Hopper’s hand left the doorknob, moving to his shirt collar. “I think you and I already know the answer to that question, (y/n),” he said, his voice low, husky. You took a step back as you watched Hopper loosen the first few buttons of his shirt, your grip on the fabric covering you faltering slightly.

“How long were you standing there?” you asked tentatively. “Watching me?”

Hopper smirked as he undid the last button on his shirt. “Long enough to know that everything I’ve imagined about your body is right,” he replied, moving closer. “You’re fucking beautiful, (y/n)…Has anyone ever told you that?”

Your eyes drifted over Hopper’s exposed chest and down his stomach, watching as he unbuckled his belt. You nodded confidently, feeling less embarrassed. “Plenty of guys have told me I’m beautiful,” you replied, your voice a little sharper than you intended. You allowed the t-shirt over your chest to slip a little further down, revealing your nipples. “I’m twenty-one years old, Chief Hopper. Of course I date.” You smirked back at him now. “Lots of guys have fucked me.”

“Mm-hmm,” Hopper chuckled to himself, pulling his belt from his jeans. “I’m sure they have. And all these guys-,” He emphasized the word. “-any of them actually make you come?”

Your cheeks heated again, going pink. “I…uh-,” you stammered, as Hopper tossed his belt to your bedroom floor. “Any of these boys...” His hand moved to his cock, palming the bulge tenting his jeans. “…Make you feel like a man could make you feel…?”

Your chest dipped, your breath quickening as Hopper closed the space between your bodies. “…Like I could make you feel?” he continued, his dark blue eyes probing yours. Hopper was standing right in front of you now, mere inches separating your bodies. His hands moved to cover yours, gently removing them (and the t-shirt) from your breasts.

Your lips parted in an expression of both surprise and desire. Hopper cupped your cheek warmly in his palm, gliding his fingertips lightly along your chin. Your eyes fell closed in blissful surrender as Hopper touched you, the last of your defenses evaporating…

Hopper groaned as he fisted his cock, the muscles in his stomach tense. He knew he needed to hurry his fantasy along, or risk arriving even later at the station than he usually did Monday mornings. Hopper had already overslept and still had to shower, shave, and grab something quick to eat before heading into the station. So in his mind, Hopper fast-forwarded a bit to the part of his fantasy he liked best…the part where you begged…

…Hopper’s cock punched deep, sloppy thrusts inside you, rocking your bed frame, knocking off several plushies as he split you in half. One of his hands was wrapped in your hair, pulling your head back, your lips parted in a moan of ecstasy as he fucked places inside you no other man had reached.

“Come on, honey,” Hopper murmured down at you, his voice thick with exertion. “Go ahead and let go; I’ve got you sweetheart, just let it go…”

You whimpered beneath him, bucking under the weight of Hopper’s body. “Chief-,” you started, but Hopper cut you off, his words punctuated by each thrust of his hips. “That’s not my name, honey,” he gently insisted. “Go on-say my name-I know you know it-.”

“-Jim,” you panted against his shoulder. “Jim please, please Jim, please come inside me-.”

Hopper’s cock twitched at your request, at hearing you whimper his name. His balls were tight, aching for relief. Hopper’s eyebrows met, his forehead creased as he strained to withhold his climax just a little longer…

“Say it again,” he growled beside your ear, but your reply was lost in a groan. “Hey!” Hopper said forcefully, taking hold of your chin and holding it firmly. Your lips parted, and he spat between them. “Say my name if you want my cum,” Hopper ordered. “Say-,” *thrust* “My-,” *thrust* “Name...”

You came undone beneath Hopper, his name spilling out from between your lips like a prayer as he spilled his release inside you…

Hopper’s cock pulsed in his fist, his stomach clenching as a thick, creamy load of cum gushed from his tip. He cursed as his semen made a mess all over the bed; Hopper would have to wash the sheets later, or else sleep in his own cum that night. He reached for a fresh cigarette and stared up at the ceiling while exhaling thin clouds of smoke in its direction.

Hopper wondered how much longer he could go on like this? His ability to resist fantasizing about you was virtually non existent. Eventually, he’d have to either figure out a way to let go of his lust for you, or tell you how he felt. And Hopper knew the second option really wasn’t an option at all. There’s no way in hell you’d actually be attracted to him, Hopper thought. He was the same age as your dad, and that alone had to be a major turn-off for you. The likelihood of you ever viewing him as anything besides a contemporary of your dad’s was slim to none. And the last thing Hopper wanted to be, for you, was a father figure…

He swung his legs over the bed, and forced himself to the shower. Hopper knew that revealing his sick secret would destroy his friendship with your dad. He didn’t want that. And maybe more than anything, Hopper didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. He chuckled darkly to himself as he stood in the shower, letting the water run over him. A sweet, pretty young woman like you would never guess she was the subject of a perverted cop’s fantasies. Not with all the men who probably pursued you at college, men twenty years younger than Hopper. At best, you likely viewed him as a nice older man, someone you could trust just like you could trust your dad.

Hopper shook his head, gazing down at the shower drain. How wrong you were, he thought to himself. Because there was nothing about Hopper that was trustworthy, when it came to his true feelings for you. He was a hypocrite, a liar, and a convincing one. For now, he would go on spending time with your dad, at your home, pretending like everything was okay. And one day, when you returned to college, maybe Hopper would be free of your spell…

✨ one week earlier ✨

It was a peaceful Monday morning for you. Home from college on Summer break, waking up in your childhood bedroom filled you with a rush of nostalgia you hadn’t experienced in a long time. Sunlight feathered through your curtains and across your bed. You stretched your legs and arms, and let your thoughts drift to the evening before.

Jim Hopper had stopped by to visit your dad last night and watch a football game together. You hadn’t seen Hopper in over two years. To be honest, you’d forgotten about your old crush on the town’s chief of police, letting it fade to the back of your mind as college life became your main focus. Traveling away from home to the big city of Indianapolis, Indiana, was a life-changing experience. You’d never been that far from Hawkins before, and while a few familiar faces from home were there as well, it still felt like the small town you loved was a whole world away.

Over time, you’d forgotten about Chief Hopper and the silly little crush you’d had on him when you were younger. But when he showed up at your house last night, your feelings for him were…brand new. Now, you were an adult, and nothing about your previous crush was present in the feelings you had watching your dad’s friend enter your home. Viewing Hopper through the eyes of a woman, your perception of him was completely different.

You’d been with a man before, a man your age. It had only happened once, and it was terrible. You regretted losing your virginity to someone who obviously had no idea what he was doing, let alone what he was supposed to be doing to you. Part of you wondered what a man like Jim Hopper, a man with decades of experience fucking women, could do to you? The Chief’s love life had always been a popular topic of gossip around town. Rumor had it that Hopper was quite promiscuous, and had developed a reputation as a womanizer in his younger days. A man like that, who you just so happened to be insanely attracted to, could probably show you what sex was supposed to be like. What a real, rough fuck was like, the kind of fucking you fantasized about, the kind of thoughts you touched yourself to…

You sifted through the pages of a well-worn notebook. In its contents were various notes on divination, the phases of the moon, a record and analysis of your dreams, the magickal correspondences of crystals, colors, and more. But by far, the most important content in your notebook were the spells you’d written. Some had worked, some had failed, and there were some you had written but not yet used. One of these un-cast spells was the love spell you’d written. Admittedly, it was less of a love spell and more of a lust spell, but…regardless, you hadn’t yet found the right person to use as inspiration when the spell was cast. You’d never desired anyone enough to make an attempt at bending the Universe’s will to influence your love life, but…seeing Jim Hopper again had stirred something powerful inside you.

Gathering your supplies, you prepared yourself mentally and physically to carry out the spell. You opened your bedroom window and let the sun sink its fingers beneath your skin, absorbing its masculine energy. Performing the spell by moonlight would have been useful in securing a lover whose energy was feminine. But the object of your desire was absolutely dripping with a masculinity so potent, you didn’t think you’d ever been near a man who exuded such powerful masculine energy.

After completing the spell, you trusted that the only thing left to do was wait. You climbed back into the familiar warmth of your bed, feeling a bit sleepy, but with a thrumming ache between your thighs that just couldn’t be ignored. Slipping a hand beneath your panties, you imagined it was Jim Hopper’s hand instead. Believing in your personal power, you trusted that the Universe was working with you. It may take a week, or ten days, or fourteen; but you would have Jim Hopper. If he didn’t want you already, he would, and badly. He would soon be craving you, not just desiring you, but burning alive inside with the need to possess you. Closing your eyes, you began to rub soft circles over your clit, building the pressure until it broke in waves, and Jim Hopper’s name was spilling from your lips in panted, grateful whispers… ✨

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kithtaehyung · 2 years

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⬛️ WEBSITE MOCKUPS : RKIVE.ORG ⬛️

“When we went abroad, we stayed in our hotel rooms except when we were working. The only places I could go then were museums. The art galleries full of Monets or Van Goghs were always crowded, but when I visited one weekday morning and had them mostly to myself, I had a eureka moment—an artist who’d passed away 100 years ago was communicating directly with a boy from Korea. I was so envious. From then on, I began seeking out and learning about Korean painters.” — HAPPY NAMJOON DAY! ; 940912 ; CLICK FOR HQ. twt | ig

Note: rkive and gallery walk gifs may take a bit to load, and look best on desktop. Note 2: To learn more about all of the artwork and artists showcased, click below.

When The Year 2000 Comes (2019), by YANG HAEGUE, the avant-garde of Korean art. “She is an accomplished and international artist. She notably represented Korea at the Venice Biennale in 2009 and participated to the prestigious dOCUMENTA (13) in Kassel in 2012. In her works, which flirt with conceptual art, she explores myths and stories, that touch on the universal. She appropriates them through sculptures, installations, performances, and video.”

From Point (1976), by LEE UFAN, Korean Zen Art. “He is a Korean artist known worldwide for his paintings depicting the mark of a brush whose color fades… Yet his practice goes far beyond that! He creates performances, sculptures and installations, which always question a certain “state of being.” He is influenced by Zen and Asian philosophy, but has also drawn heavily on Western thought. Among his favorite subjects: observing the intimate, conflicting or poetic relationship between natural and artificial elements.”

Brushstrokes-Diagram (2015), by SONG HYUN-SOOK, Korean and Western art. “With her, each brushstroke tells a story, a journey. She weaves links between Korean art and Western art. On the one hand, it expresses that almost meditative state of concentration that exists in the art of calligraphy. On the other hand, she uses tempera, a typically European oil painting technique, to create patterns that immerse the viewer in reality and the present moment.”

Drawing, Charcoal on paper, 65 x 50 cm (2014) and Issu de feu Charcoal on canvas, 100 x 81 cm, (2000), by LEE BAE, the Soulages of Korean Art. “A Korean abstract artist. Like Soulages, for whom black is a color, he explores the almost infinite possibilities of black. He sinks into the abyss of darkness. Until recently, he mainly used charred materials to paint his canvases. In doing so, he offered a powerful metaphor for the cycle of life.”

Écriture No.160523 (2016), by PARK SEO-BO, Korean abstraction. “One of the best known Korean artists. He is emblematic of the monochrome Dansaekhwa movement. A current that synthesizes the traditional Korean spirit and Western abstraction. In a way, he is very close to minimalist artists, choosing neutral tones to highlight components and fabrics.”

Mat 61 × 81 #19-17 (2019), by SUKI SEOKYEONG KANG, contemporary art. “Born in 1977, this Korean artist is one of the biggest names of the art market. Her work is mostly inspired by her own philosophical research and reflection on space and our place in it. She uses sculpture, installation, and performance to explore these ideas. Her works were presented, among others, in the Venice and Shanghai Biennales.”

Untitled (1966), by CHOI WOOK-KYUNG, the outcast. “Wook-kyung Choi (1940-1985) is an outcast in the history of contemporary Korean art. She is an abstract painter. But most Korean abstract painters shine in Dansaekhwa: the Korean monochrome. She, on the contrary, is mainly influenced by expressionism. Brutally, instinctively, aggressively, she throws the colors on the canvas. She seeks to immerse herself in the moment, and to create true, pure, expressive forms. Thus, it plays a capital role for the diversity of Korean abstract art.”

Thank you for your interest in these artists and this passion project! All of the website information (other than the artist bio on the Artist Spotlight page) is fictional. Happy Joonie Day 2022, and let’s continue to support him and all the fantastic Korean artists out there.

SRC: one, two, three

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sissylittlefeather · 3 months

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Come Back, Joe

A/N: The people demanded a smutty one-shot and a smutty one-shot they shall have. Now, this one is for the character Joe Lightcloud from Elvis's movie Stay Away Joe. The movie is not my favorite (at all), but Joe is sexy AF. And honestly, we're kind of kindred spirits in some ways. So, thus, a fic was born. It's a dirty, smutty little ride, lemme tell ya. I hope you all enjoy it!

OH, reader is Native, so just use your imagination if you're not.

Warnings: definitely 18+, minors DNI at all, kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (both receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, and use of alcohol

Word count: ~4.5k

Unfamiliar with Joe? Here ya go:

"Joe's back!"

"What do you mean he's back?"

"He's back at Charlie's place! He's having a party tonight."

You try to hide your excitement that your best friend is back from wherever he was this time. He does this. He leaves and comes back. Every time he goes, you're worried it's the last time you'll see him, but he always seems to come back eventually.

"We better go get ready then." You walk around the counter of the diner you work at and take your apron off. Bonnie smiles, glad that you're leaving with her. Your boss yells at you from across the restaurant.

"Hey! I told you if you left again you'd be fired!" You turn around as you walk out and holler.

"Guess I'm fired then!" You turn back to Bonnie and both of you giggle as you make your way out of the diner. It's been months since you saw Joe last and he always throws the best parties.

******

You arrive at the party in the middle of a fight. This is not a surprise to you. There's always at least one fight at any good party. Still, you can't find Joe. Eventually, he comes back inside to break up the fight followed by a pretty girl adjusting her clothes. This is also not a surprise to you. And even though you wish it had been you to get to him first, you can't be mad. It's not like you've been a saint while he's been gone. In fact, you currently have the arm of your newest fling wrapped around your shoulders. You take another sip of your beer and wait for Joe to see you.

He finally catches a glimpse of you from across the room. His eyes run up your body from your boots to your low cut jeans and silver belt buckle, up to your pink and green plaid shirt tied up so that your belly button is showing, all the way to your hair in two long black braids.

"Well, I'll be damned." You hear him behind you before you feel him tug on your braid. You slip out from under the new guy's arm and turn to face him. He grabs both braids and pulls on them.

"What're these? Handlebars?" You push on his chest with both hands and then he grabs you and picks you up, spinning you around with your feet off the ground. He sets you down and steps back to look you. "Yep, still as good as I remember."

"Shut up, Joe, and give me a real kiss."

"You don't have to tell me twice, honey." He pulls you in and wraps his arms around you, leaning in to part your lips with his and slide his tongue into your mouth. The kiss is familiar and you both sink into it happily.

As you make out, your newest fling grabs Bonnie.

"Who's the guy?"

"That's Joe. It's not worth trying to fight him. You won't win. They belong together, but they seem to be the only people who don't know that."

"Hmm. You need a new drink?" Bonnie nods and they walk off together, leaving you and Joe to get reacquainted.

You spend the rest of the party together, drinking and dancing and doing all the things that you both love. At the end of the night, you tumble back to your car and slide into the backseat together. You both kick off your boots and he tears at your new shirt. A couple of buttons pop off and he pulls it off of you and then sends your bra flying into the front seat. His denim jacket and yellow button down are the next things to go and you press your skin against his. It doesn't take long for him to get both your and his jeans off as well, kissing down your body. You know where he's headed and you're not complaining. This is his favorite thing and he's so skilled, you'll let him do it as often as he wants. He situates himself between your thighs and drags his tongue up your slit to land on the sensitive spot at the top. He moves his tongue over and around your clit before grunting into you.

"Goddamn, I missed you."

"Don't stop!"

"Yes ma'am." He dives back into licking your pussy and you arch your back and moan. The way he moves his tongue is unrelenting and you feel the electricity gather deep in your abdomen. He slides one finger and then two deep inside you and pushes them in and out quickly.

"Oh, fuck, Joe!!" You scream as your orgasm slams into you, running like wildfire in your veins until your legs shake as he continues to lick you.

"You want another one, baby?" He whispers before going back to moving his tongue on your clit.

"Mhmm." You groan as the sensation overwhelms you. He sucks lightly on your clit and then goes back to running his tongue in circles around it.

"Come on, baby. Daddy wants to fuck you." He does a come here motion with his two fingers inside you and you gasp as another orgasm explodes between your legs. "There it is. Good girl."

He kisses your clit one last time and then moves back up your body, dropping his lips onto your skin periodically as he does. When he gets back up to your mouth, he dips his tongue between your lips and then nibbles on the bottom one.

"Sit up." You say seductively. He follows instructions and sits up on the back seat as you position yourself with one knee on either side of his hips. He holds your ribcage with both hands and lines you up to sink onto his cock. As he slides into you, he groans and rolls his hips forward. Once he's filling you completely, you kiss him on the mouth again and whisper.

"I missed you too." You begin to bounce up and down on him and he grunts. His dick hits the perfect place inside you to drive you wild. After a few minutes of this, you switch to rolling your hips against his, pushing him deeper and deeper. While you work his cock with your pussy, he lets his mouth wander on your breasts, sucking on each nipple gently. He holds your back with both hands and drags his tongue up your neck to nibble on your earlobe.

"Mmm. I'm gettin' close, honey." He flips you over on the car seat hovering over you and fucks into you vigorously. You wrap your legs around him and he groans. "You're gonna kill me."

"Like you don't love it." You moan into his ear as he gets closer and closer.

"I do love you-IT. I LOVE IT." He slams into you one last time and cums hard inside you, shuddering as he does. He stays with his head on your shoulder for a bit, really hoping you didn't catch what he said. But you did. And you're not sure how to respond. You want to tell him that you love him too- always have- but you're pretty sure that's not what he wants to hear. So instead you swallow your feelings, again, and pretend like it didn't happen. You lift his head up off your shoulder and run your fingers through his hair, pushing it back off his forehead.

"You got somewhere to stay tonight?"

"There's some ground around here with my name on it."

"You wanna come with me?" His brain is screaming just say yes, but for some reason he can't. You're not sure why you even asked. He never stays with you.

"Nah, honey, I'm okay here."

"Alright then. Well, I'd better get going." You both move to get dressed and he fetches your clothes from the front seat for you. Once you're both fully clothed again, you slip out of the backseat and stand next to your car.

"Bye, Joe." You smile halfheartedly, knowing it'll probably be a while before you see him again. He starts to walk away from you and you turn to open your car door.

"Y/n, wait." He walks back to you and wraps you in his arms, pressing his mouth to yours. He kisses you two or three more times before he finally lets go of you. "I'll see you around."

He heads back toward the house and you get in your car to drive home.

******

A couple of weeks go by and you're back to working your job at the diner. You had to do something to pay for the small apartment in town that you and Bonnie share. She keeps you informed about Joe's activities. Her brother is Joe's best friend, so she has a direct line to what he's doing. Usually when he's in town you see each other a lot more, but he seems to be particularly busy with the cattle situation and that girl Mamie Callahan. You hear about several parties during this time but you're not excited to watch him flirt with Mamie, so you keep your head down for the moment.

You're not sure why it seems to bother you this much. Normally he flirts with girls and you flirt with guys and then you fuck each other in between, but something changed the last time you were together. He seemed to mean it more. You both did, really, and it seems to have you both a little freaked out.

But more importantly, in that time when Joe's occupied, you meet Paul. Paul is a traveling salesman who happens to come into your diner one Thursday night. He takes you to dinner the next night and a romance is born. He's the complete opposite of Joe and you decide that's probably a good thing. To begin with, he's white, with sandy blonde hair and green eyes. He's gainfully employed and never has more than two drinks. And he probably wouldn't cheat on you even if he could. You're not in love with him yet, but you could be, and he's the kind of guy you should marry. Not Joe. No matter how much you love him.

Either way, about three weeks after his coming home party, Joe wanders into your diner around closing time.

"You didn't come to my party."

"Which one?"

"The big one. After the house fell down and we brought the cattle home."

"Your wedding party, you mean?"

"Wedding... no I didn't get married."

"What happened to Mamie?"

"She went home with her mama. Is that why you didn't come? Because of Mamie?" Somewhere inside him there's a sliver of happiness that you were jealous.

"No. I had a date." The happiness is snuffed out and replaced with something else.

"A date?"

"Yes. It's what real men do when they like a woman." He's been around for your hookups, but a real date is completely different.

"With who?"

"His name is Paul."

"I don't know him."

"You don't need to." You stand in opposition, the air between you charged with anger or sex or love or all three. He tips his hat up and pulls a cigar from his pocket.

"Well, I came to see if you'd like to have a drink with me."

"Sure." You angrily finish your closing duties and holler to the manager that you'll see him tomorrow. Then, you take off your apron and go with Joe. He's bought a new convertible, so you slide into the passenger seat and try to calm yourself. He gets in the car next to you and aggressively starts it up. You sit in your seat and fume silently. He has no room to be upset here. Last you heard he was going to marry Mamie Callahan.

He looks over at you as you stare out the window. Inside he's a mess of anger, jealousy, and confusion. Why should it bother him that you're dating someone real? He's not trying to get into anything real with anyone, even you. Although, if he was ever going to, he always thought it would be with you. Maybe that's what's upsetting him. There's an unspoken promise between you that the only serious thing you'd ever have would be with each other. Now you've gone and violated that. He whips the car into the bar parking lot and jumps out.

"You comin'?" He asks you sullenly.

"I'm not sure why, but yes."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Why are you so angry?"

"I'm not." You walk into the bar together and sit silently drinking shots of whiskey. After four of them, you look at your watch. It's almost 9 and you told Paul you'd call him tonight. You slide off your stool and head to the pay phone right outside the bathrooms.

"Where are you goin?" He hollers as you walk away.

"Phone call." You hold up your change and walk away without turning back. After talking to Paul for a few minutes, you feel Joe come up behind you.

"Paul, babe, I need to go. I'll talk to you tomorrow?" He agrees and you hang up. When you turn around, Joe is looming over you.

"Babe?"

"What about it?" You can tell Joe has had a few more shots since you left him at the bar.

"You never called me babe."

"You never took me on a date."

"What do you call what we're doing right now?"

"You do this with your buddies. This is not a date." He seems a little stricken by your comment. Did he really think this was a date?

"Whatever. Babe better hope I never run into him or I'll-"

"What, Joe? Beat his ass? Why?" The tension is building between the two of you as you yell at each other.

"Because maybe I wanted to take you on a date!"

"Then you should've asked me because it's too late now!"

"Oh, is it?!"

"Yes!" You stand and glare at each other for about thirty seconds before neither of you can stand it anymore and his lips crash into yours in a passionate kiss. Your hands go straight to the buttons on his shirt and he turns you around and walks you into the bar bathroom, locking it behind you. He grabs your ass and pulls your hips into his where you can feel his growing erection. You kiss deeply with your tongues dancing against each other and tear at clothing until you're naked enough for him to turn you around to face the mirror. He bends his knees slightly and pushes into you from behind.

"Fuck, yes, Joe!" You scream as he pounds into you, holding onto your hip and your shoulder while he fucks you. He watches your breasts bounce in the mirror with each thrust and grunts. The heady combination of whiskey and sex has you both speeding toward a climax. He moves the hand that was on your shoulder down to your clit and rubs circles as he continues to rut into you. It doesn't take much longer for your orgasm to overwhelm you and you cum hard on his dick. Once he's certain you're satisfied, he pulls out and turns you around to face him. He lifts you slightly to sit on the edge of the sink and slides his cock back inside you. He kisses your mouth again passionately as he fucks you for a few more seconds before he has to give in, shuddering and filling you with his warmth.

"Yes, y/n, fuck yes!" He cries out before collapsing on your shoulder as you both try to catch your breath. "I want you to be mine, y/n."

"You should've thought of that a long time ago." He slips out of you and you both put your clothes back on in silence. After you're dressed he puts his hand on your cheek.

"Why is it too late?"

"He's a good guy, Joe. He'll take care of me and be true to me. I'm not sure I can trust you to do either of those things." That cuts him; you can tell. But he can't deny it. You unlock the door and walk out of the bar bathroom with him following you closely. You slap a $20 bill on the counter for your drinks and head out to his car.

"Y/n wait!" You round on him and hope he can't see the tears in your eyes. He can.

"What?!"

"What if I-"

"Just stay away from me, Joe. I can't keep doing this. And I don't want one of your half-ass promises. I want something real. Someone who loves me." He stands and stares at you silently willing himself to say that he does. But he still can't.

Just then, Bonnie and her brother pull up. Brock gets out and you jump in the truck with her.

"Can you take me home?"

"Sure? What happened?"

"Nothing." As you drive away, you notice Joe looking at the ground and shaking his head. Then he goes back into the bar with Brock. You ride in silence as Bonnie takes you back to your apartment.

******

Another month passes and you continue to date Paul. You don't tell him about Joe, but it's over, so there really isn't anything to tell anymore.

Joe, on the other hand, spends two weeks in a bar trying to forget you. But no matter how much liquor he consumes or women he tries (and fails) to fuck, all he thinks about is you. After his two week bender, he gets up one morning determined to make something happen.

When it's time for Paul to move on to his next town, he has the crazy idea to ask you to go with him. It's only been a couple of months, but you decide to say yes. You can always come back if you need to, but something tells you you won't be back. If you leave with Paul, he becomes your future. This is okay except for one thing: Joe. You haven't heard anything about him in the month since you've been apart. You're not sure where the disconnect happened, but Bonnie doesn't share any more information with you. So when you decide you need to talk to Joe, you have no idea where to start looking.

"Bonnie, I just wanna say goodbye."

"Why? Why not just go, since you've clearly moved on?"

"I don't know! I just feel like I owe it to him."

"He's still living out at Charlie's place."

"Thank you. Was that so hard?"

"No, but I don't see why you need to hurt him twice." You think about what Bonnie said, but you still need to say goodbye. He's probably moved on anyway.

******

When you get out to Charlie's place you're surprised to see a trailer out there, in addition to the newly built little house. You knock on the door to the house and Charlie answers. He points you to the trailer and says that's where Joe's been living. You're a little shocked because you can't remember the last time Joe had a proper roof to sleep under, but you make your way to the trailer anyway. You put your hand up to knock, but your heart stops when you do.

What are you doing? He did exactly what you asked him to do and here you are coming back to him. You turn to walk away and then hear the door open behind you.

"Y/n, you're here?" You turn back to see him standing in the doorway looking just as good as ever.

"Yeah, I was looking for you." He steps out of the trailer and walks over to you.

"You told me to stay away."

"Yeah, I know."

"I'm not ready for you to be here yet."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"No, not like that. I just... I wanted to have the house out here before I showed you."

"Showed me what? It doesn't matter. I'm leaving, Joe."

"Wait, what? Why?"

"I'm going with Paul." He bristles when he hears the name.

"You're still with that guy."

"Yeah, I am."

"You can't go with him." The old familiar anger washes over both of you.

"You don't tell me what to do!"

"I'm tellin' you what not to do!"

"Same thing!" His nostrils flare and you clench your fists.

"Fine. Now I'm tellin' you what to do. Stay here with me." You see his jaw flex, his blue eyes bright with passion.

"Joe, why the hell would I stay here with you?!"

"BECAUSE I FUCKIN' LOVE YOU, OKAY?!" Your mouth pops open in shock and he rubs his eyes with his hand. "I'm sorry, honey, I didn't mean to scream it at you like that. But look, I've been working the bull riding shows and saving up money. The cattle business is starting to bring in some income too. My plan was to get us a little house out here- with plumbing and everything- and have it all ready before I came to you."

"You've been doing all of that... for me?"

"I wanna marry you, y/n. I tried livin' without you and I just can't do it."

"What about Mamie? And all the other girls out there just like her?"

"Brock can have 'em. I just want you."

"You're sure about that?" He nods his head and walks over close to you.

"I'm damn sure." He puts his hand on the side of your neck and pulls you into him, kissing you deeply. He backs away and looks into your face. "So, what do ya think? You wanna marry me?"

"I don't know. You've changed so much; I feel like I don't even know you."

"Say yes and at the party tonight I'll show you that not everything has changed." He grins devilishly and kisses you again, this time wrapping his other arm around your waist to press your body into his. You throw your arms around his neck and hold onto him tightly. This is everything you've ever wanted from Joe, so you know your answer. When he finally pulls back out of the kiss, he hovers over your mouth in anticipation.

"Yes."

You hear a whoop behind you and you both turn and look to find Charlie there watching you. He hollers from the porch.

"It's about damn time you two kids figured that out." Joe hollers back.

"Spread the word. There's gonna be one hell of a party here tonight." He crashes his lips into yours again and you practically drag him into the trailer, your mouths never leaving each other.

You kick off your boots and he does too as you stumble back to the small bedroom. As he undresses you, he presses hot kisses to your skin and then lays you down on the bed. He takes his clothes off too and then lays down next to you, running his hand over your body gently. Then, he leans in and kisses your neck and down your chest to one of your nipples. His fingers tease the other one and he takes your whole breast in his hand and squeezes gently.

"What are you doing?" He's never been this gentle or slow with you before, so you're not sure what's happening.

"I'm making love to you. Don't you like it?"

"Oh. Kinda just want you to fuck me like always." His eyes light up and he looks down at you hungrily.

"I can do that. C'mere." He lays on his back and situates your hips over his face. He starts in on your clit, licking quick circles over and around it. You have to lean your head against the wall and bite your lip to keep from screaming. He slips two fingers into you and pumps them in and out while he sucks on your clit lightly and then goes back to licking circles.

"Oh, fuck, Joe. Goddamn that's so good." The pressure begins to build and the sensation of his tongue on you is about to drive you crazy when he whispers.

"Cum for daddy, honey."

You slam your hand on the wall and do as you're told, walls fluttering and pulsing as your climax pounds into you from every direction. You grind against his face as you ride out the high of your orgasm.

"You want another-"

"No." You pull back off of him and crawl down to between his legs.

"Oh god, baby, yes." He moans as you hold his cock in one hand, rolling his foreskin back, and lick up the shaft to the head, swirling your tongue around the tip. His hand finds your hair and he grabs a handful as you bounce up and down on him. Then, you push as much of him into your mouth as possible, letting him hit the back of your throat as you press your nose into the soft patch of hair at the base of him. He groans and leans his head back, holding your hair a little tighter.

"Honey, if you don't stop, this is gonna be as far as we get." You bounce two more times and then suck off the tip with a small pop.

"Yes sir." You smile and move back up his body. He rolls you over onto your back and kisses your shoulder as he lines himself up with your entrance.

"Now can I make love to you?" You laugh and nod.

"Yes, baby." He pushes into you slowly and kisses your mouth as he picks up a steady rhythm.

"I do love you, y/n."

"I know, Joe. I love you too." He peppers you with kisses all over your face and neck as he pumps in and out of you. It doesn't take much longer for him to cuss and fill you with his warmth. You lay there together naked and wrapped in each other. There's a new satisfaction to the way you are together knowing that it's real and nothing is going to tear you apart this time. You're lost in this post-sex bliss when there's a sharp knock on the door.

"Joe! Get out here! I heard we were havin' a party!" It's Brock and you hear Bonnie holler next.

"Get your clothes on and come on out! We brought beer and whiskey!" Joe looks at you and kisses your forehead. Then you both jump up and dress as quickly as possible. You've never been the type of people to miss out on a good party. He takes your hand and you make your way out of the trailer to a cascade of whoops and hollers. You'll have some kind of ceremony soon, but to your friends and family, you're already married. Joe keeps you close to him all night, but the party rages on. At the end of it, he grabs you and pulls you out to his car.

"Joe, we have a perfectly good bed in the trailer."

"Yeah, but I promised you not everything had changed."

He winks and you climb into the backseat. He might have a job and roof, but he's still your same old Joe.

******

The End

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @aliypop @joshuntildawn13 @rjmartin11 @your-nanas-house

Idk who else would want a Joe tag.

#elvis presley fanfiction #elvis smut #elvis presley fic #Joe lightcloud #Joe lightcloud fanfiction #stay away joe #stay away Joe fanfiction

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starssaroundmyscarssblog · 3 months

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Can you write for reader x Sherlock where reader is a little like Elizabeth Bennet, likes to read and paint etc. Singing and all the cultural stuffs and Sherlock has fallen for her too hard?

𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈𝐍

pairing: sherlock holmes (bbc) x fem!oc

summary: in which sherlock holmes doesn’t catch himself from falling quick enough for jane burbank

word count: 3.04k

warnings: none

a/n: this was my first time writing for a request so i really hope you like it <3 i also made it [x/oc] as i'm more comfortable doing it that way but i tried to stay away from descriptions as much as possible to make this little fic as inclusive as possible too <3

he wanted nothing more than to talk to her, even if it was only a meagre apology for accidentally brushing against her in the library isle. she enamoured him and he hated it, even years later as he held the heavy velvet curtains between two fingers and watched her cross over the road and unlock the door to her flat. john smirked behind his newspaper, "you're doing it again."

"doing what?" sherlock huffed, letting the curtains drape back into place over the window. "saying i'm doing something again would mean i'm repeating the action. what's special about me standing by the window." he stalked through the flat and flung himself into an old wooden chair by the kitchen table, seething over his frustration.

he hated it when john was right. nothing frustrated him more than his closest friend seeing right through him as if he were a spirit. more often than not, when he was sulking about not having cases or waiting for results from his less-than-ethical experiments, sherlock would find himself rooted to the floor by the window. sometimes he would play his violin slow and mournful, sometimes he would stand in plain sight.

it would stun him when the sunlight bounced off the wire frame of her glasses, the reflection shooting through her window and right back to his. sherlock found it hard to concentrate on anything else when she would sit in her arm chair with a cardigan that on anyone else would have looked ugly but on her the bright colours did nothing but compliment her. she always had a pen or pencil or paint brush hidden away in her hair, and occasionally she would reach up and fiddle with it as she thumbed delicately through the pages of her book.

sherlock looked up from concentrating hard on the surface of the table when his phone buzzed him his pocket, and he pulled it out. his smile became visible against his will.

you're doing it again, if you want to come over you only have to ask

within minutes he was at the door, ripping off his burgundy dressing gown and trading it out for his thick and heavy belstaff. at john's call of "where're you off to all eager?" he simply shouted "out" as he clattered down the thin staircase. sherlock was out of the door and crossing the road faster than he was able to think, knocking sharply on the blurred stained glass window set into her front door.

there was a crash from inside, a mutter of swearing as she pulled back the door to reveal her haphazard state. sherlock stared dumbly at her, trying to ignore the red splatter of paint on her neck dripping onto her chest, searching for words as when he opened his mouth it turned dry. "you didn't ask," she said, but stood back to let him into her house anyway.

sherlock walked in through the hall, catching himself casting his gaze over the walls like he did every singe time. the university diploma sat pride of place over the mantlepiece of the fireplace in the living room reading 'ba joint honours in history and history of art awarded to jane burbank, graduating with a first from the university of edinburgh'

next to it was a framed photo of the pair of them stood together at a mutual friend's wedding the previous year. sherlock had gone along begrudgingly when he'd found out that jane was attending the party after the ceremony because her cousin was the maid of honour for the bride. they were both standing outside of the venue side by side, smiling into the lens as one of the flower girls was messing with the petal confetti in her small wicker basket in the background.

jane brushed her bangs off her eyes as she moved around the airy living room, shoving wooden crates of paint back into place on the shelf and moving her latest canvas out into the garden to dry completely. sherlock stood awkwardly in his coat and ran his finger under the collar of his shirt sitting tightly against his neck. she stared at him as she returned, wiping a paint stain off the hem of her white dress as she did so.

"sherlock, i don't know why you insist on dressing like a child from the past in the middle of summer." london had been blanketed in a sticky, heavy heat as they hit the peak of august, making being indoors impossible but being outside worse. jane was only glad of her broken window to allow a constant breeze to pass through the ground floor of her house but knew the relief wouldn't last long. it was only a matter of time before the rain came in thick drops and plunged them into everlasting autumn.

he shrugged awkwardly and peeled the coat from his body, and when jane looked at him from behind her easel tucked away in a corner by the bay window he removed his blazer from his shoulders too. sherlock felt too free when he was with her, it scared him, but she made him feel to exhilarated to even care sometimes.

once, when they'd met at a summer research project collating students from different courses at the russel group unis, jane had cleared her throat to catch his attention in the library. at the noise he turned around, still holding the heavy volume, and saw her looking at him through a gap in the shelves perching her chin on the heel of her hands. "hey," jane whispered at him, "d'you want to do something fun?"

sherlock couldn't find his voice to tell her that what he was doing was fun and that he didn't really want to leave the safety of the library that late at night, but her bright eyes sparkling in the fluorescent lights hanging from the high ceiling from exposed wires made him throw caution to the wind and join her on their escapade. jane dragged him to a concert and to this day not one of them could remember who it was they'd seen only that they were rubbish and the cone of chips they'd picked at while walking through a grassy park was much more enjoyable.

he'd been dressed for winter then too, despite the thin linen of his shirt trying to cool him down in the muggy night air. but he couldn't care less about the heat invading his skin or the salt from the chips that caught on his finger tips because he was talking to jane burbank, and it had been all he'd wanted to do since she came bursting into the lecture hall for the summer programme two minutes late in a haze of frazzledness as she pulled down the hem of her summer dress where it had ridden up from her haste.

if he had been a better man he wouldn't have looked down past her neck but he couldn't help himself.

perched on the end of the emerald green sofa shoved against a bright white wall covered in artwork and cheap antique picture frames, sherlock fumed silently like the kettle he wished jane was setting over the stove because he could see john giving him his worst 'i told you so' look from the front window of his flat over the road. jane returned with a silver tray laden with small plates holding biscuits, two empty glasses holding ice and a large pitcher of sparkling orange juice.

"d'you want to go out and do something fun tonight?" jane found herself repeating the words every time she saw sherlock, which wasn't as often as she would have hoped considering she bought her house opposite his flat with his proximity in mind. he was always out sleuthing with john, who she'd seen more, and got on well with.

so was it really any surprise that jane took any chance she could get with sherlock, to make the most of the time they had together. he'd intrigued her all those years ago (it hadn't in-fact been too many years ago since they'd graduated with first honours, but life in the wake of sherlock holmes was long and weary) and still continued to do so now. she was pleased she knew him before he made it big as a 'boffin' in the national press and was even more pleased that he still kept up with her completely opposing lifestyle despite his cold-heartedness and want of plain fact.

with a gleeful grin and a shake of his shoulders as she squealed at his minute nod, jane was away to pack her bag and to grab her sandals before rejoining him at the front door. much to her excitement, sherlock had decided to brave the outside world without the protection of his belstaff, the top two buttons of his shirt were undone and his blazer was tucked neatly under his arm as he waited patiently for her. "ever practical," she muttered and locked the door behind her. the heat of the day beat down on her exposed shoulders from where she'd pinned her hair up at the back of her head and she pulled her sunglasses over her nose.

they set off and june looked at her watch, "quarter to three, fancy going out for something to eat first?"

"whatever you want to do," sherlock agreed, and sure enough half an hour later they were sat on outside tables for a cafe overlooking westminster watching the people go by. well, sherlock was watching the people go by and jane was peeling away the pastry of a croissant she'd ordered while taking occasional sips of her glass of diet coke. he tapped his fingers against the saucer for his coffee patiently waiting for her to finish so they could leave.

jane wanted to look through the markets in camden for old records before they tried to find a pub for dinner and finished off the day at st james' park to listen to the music drift over them from the live festival happening in hyde park that she didn't get tickets to. she was always asking him if he wanted to do something fun even when she'd planned the day to some kind of degree of legible and sherlock just agreed.

but he did so because jane had asked him to, and anything that was fun to her would be fun for him.

after their intermission at the cafe, where jane had stopped to take some candid photos of some couples she'd seen over the green before turning the lens on an unsuspecting sherlock, they suffered the stuffy carriage of the underground before emerging at camden. jane beelined for stalls selling records and cassette tapes she didn't need because her selection was already overflowing. she picked up a sleeve and turned it to sherlock, grinning, "don't you just love them?"

he smirked before saying, "i prefer blur" only to receive a smack on the shoulder for his admission. by the time they'd left jane had bought enough to put a sizeable dent into her savings account made for paying off her student debt and she was dragging sherlock to an art gallery she noticed was free to the public before they sat down to eat again.

there was something about her wide eyes as they walked around the gallery that sherlock couldn't tear his eyes away from. it might have been the sun shining down on her cheekbones from the glass ceiling or the way she looked like one of the twisted statues in her white dress and delicate sandals or her screwed up face as she focused on something in the background through the lens of her camera. being with jane was a break from the world he'd plugged himself into and he loved every second of it.

sherlock didn't love it as much, however, when they were sat outside (again) at a pub jane liked sharing a bowl of chips while she told him about the awful date she'd had with an awful guy who had an awful name two days prior. his back straightened and something curled in the pit of his stomach as jane told him about the bloke's lacklustre effort of wooing her, especially when he lumped her with paying for dinner and their tube fares back because he'd 'conveniently' left his wallet in a different jacket.

"he wasn't even wearing a jacket, sherlock, i mean can you believe it? i go on one date for the first time in months and he's a total prick!" she picked at a chip and dunked it angrily into the splodge of tomato sauce she'd poured onto the plate before soaking up any vinegar that had been left behind, "is chivalry really dead? i refuse to believe it is."

sherlock made a hoarse noise in the back of his throat before leaving for the bar and returning with a drink to replace jane's third glass of diet coke since they'd sat down. he placed down the cocktail in front of her and felt a flush of pride creep down his back as jane placed her hand over his to thank him earnestly. she took a sip, then another until the entire thing slid down her throat with a sigh of relief.

"i really needed that," she said and giggled to herself. sherlock forgot every time he was with her when she drank that jane was the lightest of lightweights, but when she'd had one she was happy and when jane was happy sherlock was well on the way to being happy too.

another cocktail later and jane had reached her happy medium for alcohol intake - she was blissfully unaware of anything happening outside of the six foot boundary around her but could still hold herself upright and kissed sherlock enthusiastically on the cheek when he caught the bill as a waiter was passing by their table. she laughed all along the path and the whole time the two of them were walking to st james' park.

sherlock didn't make it a habit to carry people around on his back, but when jane looked up at him with a pout and wide glassy eyes he acquiesced and hoisted her onto his back with her ankles locked together just below his navel.

she insisted on getting a cone of chips for old times sake even though they'd eaten enough to fuel an army back at the pub, and jane happily handed over five pounds in cash for a cone and a pot of curry sauce to the woman behind the till. "thank you!" she called out from over her shoulders and sherlock walked through the gates to the park and let her down gently onto the grass where they usually sat.

jane fell forwards and caught herself from landing on her face by her knees, laughing as she slumped forwards onto her chest and propped her chin up into her hands. sherlock sat beside her on his jacket and brushed her bangs out of her eyes, and she felt her skin flush where his fingers had touched. the music from the concert in hyde park eventually reached them just as jane thought it would and she began to hum the tune under her breath as she picked at the chips sherlock was holding out for her.

jane rolled onto her back and felt the blades of grass tickle her shoulders and she moved to make herself comfortable. "we never talk anymore sherlock." she huffed, and tried to reach out and run her fingers over his cheek but stopped when she realised her hands were moving in the completely wrong direction.

"you've been talking all day."

"but i mean you and me. we never talk, i talk at you and you listen."

"i like listening."

"no you don't, you'll out live god trying to get the last word in."

he laughed behind his smile, "i like listening to you."

jane pushed herself onto her feet and sank down again so she was eye to eye with sherlock. he could still see the red splatter of paint along her neck and upon closer inspection he found that the drips had dried throughout the day past the neckline of her already low summer dress. "i wish you would do more than watch and listen to me." she whispered, still tapping out the rhythm of the new song against her knee.

"but i like listening to you and i can't help but watch you. it irritates me." lies.

"no it doesn't."

damn.

before sherlock even had a chance to refute or say anything in his defence, jane's hands were placed gently on either side of his neck and she pulled him forwards to join their lips. jane held him so close that their noses bumped together repeatedly and she had to lean forwards to follow him when he pulled away. "jane!"

"what?" she questioned, finding that she'd sobered up at a startling rate when the gravity of what she'd done had truly set in. "oh, sherlock i'm so sorry i didn't mean to-" her words were cut off as he kissed her again, again and again to pepper kisses all over her cheeks and along her forehead where her bangs had fallen over her eyes again.

jane was a breath of fresh air, the calm in the middle of the storm he lived his life by. in the moment with her, sitting on the grass in a darkened london park he couldn't help but not care about what john would say when he finally got home or if jane would soon realise how dangerous tangling her life with his truly was.

she pushed herself onto him and held onto his arms as she kissed him harder, not caring that sherlock was the right-hand-man of every inspector at scotland yard or that his idea of fun was dissecting human bodies and testing them for bruising. the only thing that mattered to her was the boy she'd liked since she walked in late to the lecture hall was kissing her back after he'd admitted to her, drunkenly at their mutual friend's wedding, that it was all he thought about whenever he saw her

🪩⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊🔎

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