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peachycoreroo · 4 years ago

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the forbidden fruit | zeke yeager

summary: zeke was like a second father to you and you were his favorite little girl. maybe, it wasn't normal to like your dad's best friend that much, but who cares if it's normal when it feels this good.

pairing: dad’s best friend!zeke x college fem!reader

genre: smut, pwp

word count: 5.4k

warnings: age gap, vaginal penetration, lowkey pseudo-cest bc you call zeke 'uncle', daddy kink, oral fem!receiving, fingering, oral m!receiving, mini degradation, praise kink, a few spanks, choking, zeke spits in your mouth, usage of ‘slut’, ‘whore’ and ‘slutty’, bunny as a pet name, kinda exhibitionism?, manipulation, corruption kink, dub-con vibes but you actually want it, jealousy, mentions of alcohol, smoking, dumbification, manhandling, unprotected sex (pls wrap it up kids), creampie, size kink

authors note: this is for @weepinglevi‘s adult movie tropes collab, thank you sm for letting me join!! def check out the other amazing fics in this collab<3 this is a lot darker than my other stuff so far, but i had so much fun writing it, so enjoy my first piece for aot!! here’s a link to my masterlist

uncle zeke, or uncle zuzu as you liked to call him when you were still a child, has always been your favorite person since you were little. technically, you weren��t blood-related, but you might as well have been with how integrated into your family he was.

him and your father were best friends since middle school and you did call him ‘daddy’ a lot back then as a three-year-old, when you couldn’t grasp the concept of him not also being your dad. he was there for your birth, your childhood, your embarrassing teens and now even for your 20th birthday.

you don’t exactly know when the thing happened though.

one day, you were all a big, happy family and the next you suddenly realized, how attractive zeke yeager really was. maybe, it was the way you noticed that he was so much more athletic and broader than your father as they walked around your pool in their swimming trunks on a hot summer day. maybe, it was the way you suddenly became aware of how tall he really was, when you tried to reach a cup on a shelf too high, only to feel his presence directly behind you with his chest against your back as he reached his arm above your head and grabbed the cup, only to hand it to you with a teasing ‘you should really try this thing called growing. i heard it does wonders against high shelfs.’ or maybe, it was the way you finally registered how his gray eyes shamelessly checked you out as you walked around in your flimsy crop tops and shorts, barely covering anything.

it was so wrong, but that didn’t mean you would stop your little teasing. your dresses got shorter and shorter, dropping your keys on purpose on the way out just to flash him your lacy panties. hugging him longer than usual as he was leaving, just to press your breasts up against his hard chest. you wanted him to know you weren’t a little girl anymore. you wanted his mind to be filled with lewd thoughts about you. only you.

even when you left for college, you couldn’t stop thinking about the blond man, especially when you were in your bed late at night, with your hand stuffed in your panties and your mouth whimpering his name into the pillow. images of him, with his hard cock in a large palm, pleasuring himself with you on his mind, groaning your name, always brought you to an orgasm, but it wasn’t enough. you knew the only way to quench your need for this man was by having him, no matter how rotten your desire was.

at last, it was finally your birthday, and you couldn’t wait to get home and act upon your ploy to seduce zeke yeager. it was a foolproof plan really. nobody would even suspect you were trying to rile your favorite uncle up, and he would only react, if he wanted you just as much. what better gift for your birthday, than ultimately having the forbidden fruit you’ve been trying to deny yourself of for so long.

“happy birthday, angel!”, your family exclaimed excitedly as you came downstairs. you quickly scanned the room to see uncle zeke already sitting in his usual spot on an armchair in the corner of the living room, getting up and joining your parents at the bottom of the stairs when he noticed your presence.

knowing that he was there, you finally smiled happily, thanking them softly before being pulled into a tight embrace by zeke. “yeah, happy birthday, angel”, he lowly murmured into your ear as he pressed you firmly against him, goosebumps erupting at his slightly suggestive tone.

“thank you, uncle zuzu”, you whispered back, squeezing him tight, hoping to get the message across that you were more than happy to be in his arms.

alas, you were forced to part as your mother shoved him to the side to embrace you, your dad jokingly complaining about you going for a hug with your favorite first instead of your parents, in the background.

“well, i can’t help that i’m so much cooler to her than you”, zeke retorted playfully, earning him a light-hearted punch to the arm from your father.

the rest of the day felt like an eternity. it’s not that you didn’t enjoy spending time with your parents, especially if zeke was there, but the prospect of getting the blond male to act upon your, hopefully, mutual desires, had you looking at the clock more times than you would like to admit.

“are you waiting for something?”

you quickly snapped out of your daydreams of what could happen later, as the man with the main role in them sat down closely beside you, your thighs brushing against each other. you couldn’t help your gaze lingering where your skin touched before blinking up at him through your lashes, only to see him grinning down at you, clearly amused by your stare. time for the first part of the mission.

“oh yeah, i’ll be going clubbing with a few friends later.”

“clubbing?”, zeke pressed with a frown, “and your parents are letting you?”

zeke has always been very overprotective of you. your dad joked that it’s because you’re basically like his daughter, but you hoped it was more than that. that’s why you were counting on his overprotectiveness to eventually lead you to the desired outcome of the day aka you, stuffed full of his cum.

“mmm, yeah. it’s my 20th birthday uncle zeke, not my 10th, you know. i’m an adult”, you retorted provocatively before getting up. “’m gonna go get ready.”

you could swear you felt his irritated glare burn into your back as you made your way upstairs, grinning at the first bit of your plan succeeding.

the second step, was your appearance. just a week before that, you went shopping for the shortest dress you could find, ready to turn heads, or specifically, one head. shower, hair, makeup, baby pink lace underwear, see-through tights, black dress. you haven’t felt this hot and confident in a while with college forcing you to wear hoodies and sweatpants all day every day. no way in hell were you going to make yourself suffer through endless lectures in cute skirts and dresses.

five minutes before your friends came, one of your essential male friends included, you decided to head downstairs to make sure zeke had enough time to admire how hot you looked.

as you came downstairs, you could hear your dad exclaiming ‘look at my beautiful girl, all grown up’, making zeke turn around. goosebumps erupted as you felt his eyes slowly trail along your figure, your skin tingling where his gaze burned into your exposed skin.

you did a full spin, showing off your outfit to the three people in your living room, but only caring about the opinion of one. to your disappointment, you didn’t quite get the reaction you wanted, with zeke turning back around to your mother, continuing to talk about whatever.

no matter how much you hated it, you couldn’t stop the jealousy crawling up your tightening throat, making you sick with disgust. you knew your mother was just as much as a friend to the man of your desires as your father, but it didn’t stop you from feeling this way. you wanted his eyes on you and not some other woman, even if that woman was your own mother.

as if on cue, the doorbell rang out, your mood immediately lifting at the chance that the third step of your plan finally elicits a much-craved reaction from zeke.

you opened the door, your best friends immediately throwing themselves at you, screaming their congratulations and complimenting your attire. just like you hoped, the boy you’ve been friends with and flirted with since high school, jean kirstein, was the last one to congratulate you. he hugged you tight, leaning down, whispering a low ‘happy birthday, pretty girl. you look good enough to eat’, at the same time as your parents and zeke came into the foyer.

the hug you shared with jean lasted just a tad too long for it to count as appropriate, with you giggling excessively at his comment just to be sure that zeke heard it. and as you parted to say goodbye to your family, your flirty friend kept his strong arm around your waist, as though it belonged there.

you don’t miss the way zeke glared at jean’s arm around you or the way he had the slightest frown on his face as he told you to ‘have fun and be careful’, but when you turned around and left the house to get into jean’s car, disappointment filled you when you realized that the blond male didn’t do anything to keep you from going. all this planning and finger crossing for nothing. ‘happy fucking birthday to me’, you bitterly thought, as you drove off into the night, mood already completely ruined.

after hours of trying to enjoy the end of your birthday even for a bit, you finally had enough. jean took you home, trying to make out with you on the backseat of his car in the parking lot, but as tempting as the idea of letting him fuck zeke yeager out of your mind sounded, you couldn’t bring yourself to. the fact that today was supposed to be the day you got your dad’s best friend right where you wanted him, was enough to make you crave a nice shower and your warm bed. you couldn’t wait for this day to end.

when jean pulled up to your house, you parted ways with a quick kiss and a cheeky promise of tomorrow, before making your way into the house. it was already 3 a.m., so you were sure everybody was already asleep, as you quietly made your way inside.

“there you are. welcome back, pretty girl.”

at hearing zeke’s raspy voice out of nowhere, you flinched and let out an unvoluntary squeak. what was he doing here?

you brought your hand to your heart, feeling it hammer against your chest, your eyes snapping to the spot your dad’s best friend was sitting in, in the kitchen. “uncle zeke! you scared me, what are you still doing here?”

as you made your way into the kitchen, you finally noticed the empty tequila bottle on the table and your unconscious father, snoring on the coach in the living room, just a few feet away.

“mmm, wanted to make sure you come home safely after your dad passed out, so i waited for you”, he casually retorted while his grey eyes inspected you from head to toe. smeared lipstick, a light sheen of sweat on your skin and your dress hiked up dangerously high on your thighs.

feeling small under his calculating gaze, you once again looked at your sleeping dad and gestured towards the bottle. “guess you also had a wild party going on?”

“mh, your dad’s just a lightweight.”

the air inside the kitchen was heavy and suffocating. you knew something was wrong with the way zeke wouldn’t stop staring at you and only answered with short sentences, his usual playful chattiness nowhere to be seen.

trying to get rid of the awkwardness and your nervousness, you asked: “where- uh, where’s mom?”

“asleep”, was the short answer you got, making you even more uneasy than before. “oh, w-well. i’m gonna go and also hit the hay. thanks for staying up for me uncle zeke, good night.”

“stop.”

this one word made you halt in your tracks just as you were about to turn around, making you look questioningly back at him. what you didn’t expect however, was to see zeke yeager spread his thighs and pet one of them with a simple ‘sit down, angel.” somehow, the pet name sounded condescending as it left his lips, but that didn’t stop your pussy from clenching at the sight of him with his legs wide open, looking positively inviting like never before.

your gaze quickly flickered towards the unconscious figure in the armchair, but even that couldn’t stop you when uncle zeke was offering you to sit on his lap, like you dreamed of for so long.

your legs slowly took you towards the spot he was sitting in, only for him to pull you on one of his thighs as soon as you were in his reach. his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, while the other found its place on your thigh, your heartrate skyrocketing at the close proximity.

not really knowing what to do with your hands and where to look, you once again brought your gaze to your dad in the living room, having the perfect view of him from your position on zeke’s lap, your fingers interlocked in your own lap as to not touch him too much.

“how was the party?”, he questioned seemingly nonchalant, but his tone had a certain edge to it, that made you feel as if you were being scolded.

you chuckled nervously, keeping your eyes locked on your unconscious father, as you started uttering: “oh, uh… it was- “

only to have zeke’s palm grab your cheeks, squeezing them together in a pout, as he turned your head towards him, forcing you to focus your gaze on him.

“did you fuck him?”

zeke was watching your expression closely when he practically growled the question, taking note of how your eyes widened, your breath deepened, and your thighs automatically pressed together as the meaning of his imposing words settled in.

the jealousy could practically be grabbed as it rolled off the blond male in waves and you knew, that if you wanted your birthday wish to come true, you had to play the part of the innocent and unsuspecting little girl.

“wha-? no!”, you exclaimed supposedly offended and distraught that he would even ask such a thing, as best as you could with your lips pressed together in a pout by his large palm.

the man’s dark grey – were they always this dark? – eyes narrowed as you seamlessly pretended to not know what he was hinting at, but the way you immodestly battered your eyelashes at him, one hand finding it’s way onto the palm that was squeezing your plush thigh, showed him at you weren’t as oblivious as you feigned to be.

“no, huh?”, he chuckled darkly, his hand leaving your face to push you down onto your knees between his legs instead, “then you’re not against helping your dear uncle with a certain issue, or are you baby?”

stammering out a little confused ‘what?’, you quickly checked whether your dad was still asleep, only for yeager’s palm to return to its place on your cheeks, squeezing them once again as he yanked your head back towards him. “don’t act like a brainless, useless slut, angel. it really doesn’t suit you. you’re my smart little girl, aren’t you?”

the sickly-sweet tone he used worked like a charm on your praise-starved brain. you wanted to please him and be his good girl, no matter what it took.

looking up at him with big, wide eyes, a drop of drool fell from your pouty lips onto his jean-clad crotch when he tightened his hold on your cheeks as you nodded like an obedient little toy, making him smile proudly.

“that’s my girl. now,”, he declared, unbothered by the tiny wetness seeping into his pants, his veiny hands made quick work of his belt and zipper, “show me how much you want to help your uncle zeke.”

just the sight of him whipping out his hard cock out of the confinements of his jeans and boxers, was enough to make a small pool of wetness gush out of your cunt, not that it mattered anyway. your lacy panties were already long soaked just from sitting on his lap.

zeke’s cock was longer and definitely thicker than you could’ve ever imagined, bigger than any you’ve ever taken with a prominent vein running on the underside, the tip flushed in a pretty pink. the saliva collecting in your mouth at the prospect of having him down your throat soon made you swallow hard, while you waited for his next instructions, not wanting to disappoint him by acting impulsively.

seeing his best friends’ daughter so submissive and eager-to-please on her knees between his legs as said best friend laid, passed out, just a few feet away, made zeke’s cock twitch. he knew it was sick and wrong, but he has always been a weak man when it came to you.

“go ahead, sweetheart. make uncle zeke feel good.”

at his permission to go, you nearly lunched forward, your pretty lips coated in sticky lipgloss instantly wrapping around the sensitive tip of his dick, making him groan deeply somewhere in the back of his throat.

you alternated between swirling your tongue around his cockhead and slowly sucking, as zeke put a cigarette between his lips, lightning it. normally, you hated the foul smell of nicotine and complained numerous times about how much you hated smokers but… the sight of it dangling between his thick fingers, as his other hand lost itself inside your hair, guiding your head to bob up and down on his length, awakened something deep in you, that you didn’t even know existed.

it didn’t help that while every other person reeking of smoke repulsed you, the same scent clinging to zeke brought you a sense of comfort. the fact that he also looked hot as fuck doing it, certainly didn’t hurt.

above you, the tall man made sure to let his eyes wander to your father from time to time, mostly keeping them locked on your lewd expression and your full lips wrapped around his cock though. he knew that the man a few feet away was a heavy sleeper, especially when drunk, so he wasn’t afraid of letting you know just how pleased he was with you.

“that’s a good girl. doing so good for me, want me to cum down your throat, sweetheart?”

you mumbled a small ‘please’ around his cock, causing him to groan huskily as your vocal cords vibrated against his sensitive tip. knowing he was almost there, you hallowed your cheeks and tightened your throat, wanting him to lose himself in the inviting warmth of your mouth.

as soon as zeke felt himself teetering at the edge, he couldn’t stop himself from quickly putting out the cig in his hand and holding your head still with his large palms as he started frantically thrusting up in your mouth. having zeke use you to chase his own high made you clench around nothing as you gagged around his length, doing your best to try and keep your jaw slack just so you could hear the man praising you again.

at the feeling of you choking on his cock, zeke’s head fell back as he moaned hoarsely, the sound going straight to the fire in the pit of your stomach already forming just from sucking him off and hearing his erotic grunts.

on the next thrust inside your warm, wet mouth, zeke emptied himself in the back of your throat with a low growl of ‘good fucking girl’, making you whine around his dick. the blond pulled you off as you started coughing, instructing you to ‘swallow, angel.’ being the whipped, little toy you did as you were told, looking up at him as you licked the remaining cum of your spit covered lips.

zeke smirked at your sensual display, whilst he stood up, pulling you up to your feet, only to push you against the dinner table and impatiently smash his lips against yours.

you had half the mind to think about how he didn’t even seem to care that his sticky cum still lingered in your mouth as he kissed you before your brain completely shut down because you were making out with zeke yeager.

strong palms wandered up your thighs under your short dress, cupping your ass while the flimsy fabric rode up as a consequence of his wandering hands. the display of strength as he easily lifted you up on the hard surface behind you, made your head spin. everything this man was doing had you weak in the knees and if you weren’t already seated, you were convinced your legs would’ve given out underneath you.

as yeager made room for himself between your thighs, spreading them in the process, your arms found their place around his broad shoulders, pulling him down even closer towards you as you tasted the whiskey and smoke on his slightly chapped lips. you could hear his soft chuckle at the displeased whimper you let out when he removed himself from you, before tracing his thumb faintly over your clothed clit. just that slightest contact with your puffy bundle of nerves had your hips twitching up, your face heating up at the obvious display of his effect on you.

“aww, is my slutty little baby desperate for her favorite uncle?”, he asked in mock empathy, ripping your tights like it was nothing, before his eyes soaked up the sight of your baby pink lace panties completely ruined by your slick.

“i see you were ready for something to happen today. were you hoping the little boy from earlier would fuck you?”, he almost snarled the question, before adding: “or were you hoping for me, bunny? are these pretty panties just for me?”

as your core gushed out more of your juices at the pet name, you obediently shook your head at his accusation of you dressing up for jean, mewling out: “y-you, daddy. only you.”

zeke closed his eyes to compose himself when his cock twitched alive once again at the sweet melody of you calling him daddy. he knew this was the point of no return. he could’ve stopped this before, he was sure of that, but not anymore. not when you oh so sweetly called out for your daddy to take care of you.

in one swift motion, your panties were gone and thrown into a dark corner of the kitchen, the only light illuminating the space coming from the turned-on lamp in the foyer from when you came home. forcing you to recline back as zeke lifted your legs up on his muscular shoulders, you shuddered as his hot breath hit your drenched pussy.

after just one kitten lick to your core, you heard zeke’s pleased hum, mumbling something along the lines of ‘just as sweet as you, bunny’, but you couldn’t tell for sure because the very next second he was diving tongue first into you, sucking, licking, and slurping like it’s his last meal. the moan that left you at his intense ministrations was downright pornographic and you could only clench around nothing as his large palm came up to silence you.

“as much as i’d love to listen to your cries, sweet thing, gonna wake your parents up if you keep at it”, he muttered against your sensitive clit, the vibrations only making you mewl against his hand.

your hands tried to find purchase somewhere, the hard surface of the table, your plush thighs, before your nails finally got a grasp of his blond locks, using the leverage as an advantage to push his face even further into your slick cunt.

the obscene, wet sounds that echoed in the room were making your face heat up, but the embarrassment didn’t stop you from grinding desperately against his tongue, his thick beard rubbing painfully but oh so deliciously against the delicate skin of your inner thighs.

when you felt two of his thick fingers probe at your entrance before pushing in, instantly hitting that one spot inside you, you threw your head back as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, thighs trembling against his head as you reached your peak around his digits. your back arched off the wooden table, thighs snugly pressing against the sides of his head, almost suffocating him in the process, while you moaned a long, high-pitched ‘daddy’ against his palm.

zeke yeager could proudly say that he’s had his fair share of women, but the sight of you, succumbing to the pleasure he was providing you with, was by far the most erotic he had the privilege of witnessing. the mix of your cross-eyed expression, your sloppy cunt clenching impossibly around his thick fingers and your body twitching from the aftershocks of your orgasm, only fueled his desire to see you go dumb on his fat cock.

a hard slap against the fat of your right thigh caused you to squeal, your legs sliding down from his shoulders, completely limp from all the spent energy. zeke leaned down, once again capturing your lips in a heated make out. his warm tongue still had the distinct taste of your release on it as it slipped between your lips, his full beard soaked in your juices scratching against your cheeks and chin, but you certainly didn’t mind as long as you could have him between your legs, mouths interlocked.

“wanna see your cute lil’ ass while i wreck you, bunny. can you turn around for daddy?”, he questioned, voice raspy, but he didn’t actually wait for an answer, grabbing your hips in a bruising grip and flipping you over on your stomach, ass pressed up against his crotch already. not being able to control yourself at another clear display that his muscles weren’t just for show, your hips automatically grinded back against his painfully hard cock.

another strong blow was delivered, this time to your bouncy behind, your small mewl echoing in the large space. “slutty, desperate whores aren’t appreciated here, bunny. thought you were daddy’s good, little girl? guess daddy was wrong about you”, zeke sighed in faux disappointment, knowing you would do anything for him to keep praising you.

“n-no! am your good, little girl! ‘m sorry, daddy, please don’t leave”, you practically sobbed out, to drunk on his touch to realize the manipulative undertone in his phrasing.

smirking victoriously, the blond tenderly smoothed his huge palm, with his fingers covered in your already dried up essences, over your ass check, his fat tip nudging against your soaked entrance, whilst he shh-ed you, promising that he’s ‘not gonna leave you bunny, ‘m all yours.’

at the promise of him belonging to you, your eyes rolled into the back of your head, just as yeager decided to push his aching dick into your tight pussy. at the first bump against your gummy walls, you both knew no one would ever be able to compare. it was a tight fit as he continued to push past the resistance of your cunt, hissing at the continuous contractions around his sensitive cock. no way in hell, he thought to himself as he already had to hold himself back from cumming as if he were some virgin all over again.

when he finally bottomed out, his patience was close to non-existent, so without waiting for you to adjust, he started thrusting in you like a mad man. your hands flew out to grab the other edge of the wooden surface to have some kind of support, as his powerful thrusts made the whole table shake and drag across the tiled floor.

“’s too much, daddy! slow down!”, you wailed, knowing full well that this was exactly what you waited for all this time. the dark chuckle that left his panting and grunting mouth told you that he was also very aware of the fact that you didn’t actually want him to slow down, so the only reaction you got, besides his acknowledging chuckle, were his thrusts picking up in speed.

after another strong hit to your jiggling ass and a groan that sounded suspiciously like ‘such a perfect ass’, zeke leaned over you, completely covering you with his large frame. his hand found its way to your front, giving your tits a quick squeeze through your dress, before continuing its journey up, finally settling around your neck.

as it constricted around your neck, thick fingers expertly pressing against the pressure points, restricting the air flow oh so deliciously, your spit-covered lips fell open in a silent ‘o’, the act lurching you impossibly closer to your orgasm. at this point, the only coherent words you were able to formulate were ‘yes’, ‘daddy’ and ‘please’, causing the tall man’s chest to fill with pride at your dumbed out state.

“my cute, submissive, little bunny. have i fucked you stupid with my cock?”, he teased, only to get his confirmation by the lack of response on your side, too far gone to process that he asked a question.

the rhythmic clenching of your warm core reminded him that his dick was practically begging him to let it stuff you full of his sticky cum, so as his grip on your throat and hip tightened even more, he let his carnal desires take over as he rutted impossibly faster inside you.

every thrust caused his fat tip to poke harshly against your cervix, the feeling of pain only fueling your pleasure, as you silently took all your favorite uncle was giving you. somewhere in the back of your mind the thought of your father sleeping just in the next room flew around, but it quickly got fucked back out by zeke’s fat cock.

at the next rough plunge inside your warm walls and the low growl of ‘cum on daddy’s fucking cock, bunny’ directly beside your ear, you came undone with a loud moan of his name. you were pretty sure the force of your orgasm made you blackout for a second, because the next time you came to your senses, zeke was shooting his load inside your inviting cunt directly at your cervix, your name leaving his lips like a prayer.

you were exhausted. your whole body shook and twitched, your stomach hurt from being pressed against the edge of the dinner table for so long, sweat dripping down on the surface from your face and neck.

suddenly the room was way too quiet, safe for the heavy breathing and your occasional whimpers. slowly, zeke pulled out, only to spread your cheeks apart to take a good luck at your abused pussy pushing out his white cum. it slowly trickled down your legs, mixing with your leaked juices on the tiles beneath your feet.

not having the energy to move, you let the blond male pull down your dress back over your ass, listening to the rustle of fabric and belt clicking as he got dressed again. just as he gently helped you stand-up again, you could hear a yawn coming from the doorway that led to the living room.

“what’re you both doing?”, your half-awake father asked as he made his way through the kitchen past you to get to the foyer. your nails dug into zeke’s muscular forearms as the panic of getting caught formed in the pit of your stomach, only to hear the older man murmur a casual, seemingly sleepy ‘she just got home, gonna go sleep now’, as though he wasn’t blowing out your back just a few minutes prior.

with an unsuspecting ‘’aight, night you two’, your dad disappeared in the shared bedroom with your sleeping mother.

“fuck”, you breathed out, stressed at almost being caught and your legs buckling, only for zeke’s strong arms to hold you up right.

“hey, look at me, angel”, the male softly demanded, gaze tender as your eyes met his. “i’ll bring you to bed and clean up here, okay? don’t worry about a thing.”

a sleepy, but happy smile stretched itself across your lips at him caring for you so deeply.

“open your mouth, sweetheart.”

without second-guessing the request, you obediently opened your mouth, only to feel his saliva hit your outstretched tongue. the taste made you mewl needily as you realized what it all meant. you were his and he was yours.

zeke chuckled, amused by your blissed out expression, before pecking your lips, picking you up and caring you to your room with you mumbling a satisfied ‘best birthday ever’ against his neck.

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captnjacksparrow · 4 years ago

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SNS Dynamics - Sasuke's Perspective

Lengthy post ahead

On completing my rewatch of Naruto part I and part II, many things which never made sense started to make sense. One among them is the relationship between Naruto and Sasuke. I used to ask why Naruto is going so far for Sasuke. And why Sasuke is helping out Naruto even though he wants to kill him. And I used to think that Episode 478 was retconned to make the final battle ends in a draw and Sasuke somehow made to reconcile with the titular character. Yet, I instinctively felt, ‘Something is very different about them’. But on careful rewatch, all the clues which consolidate their relationship was there. The way they love each other is totally on a different level and the creator very carefully planned this from the beginning of the Manga.

Though I really don’t like the ending for making every characters into a child rearing machine at an age of 20 to make way for an abomination called ‘Boruto’, I still loved everything till Episode 479.

I wanted to discuss about both Naruto and Sasuke's perspective. But that cannot be accommodated in a single post. So, I decided to start with Sasuke. Since Naruto's side of SNS is very open and vocal, we clearly knew what is going on in his mind. But Sasuke's side is usually very subtle but much more intense than Naruto which makes it worth analyzing.

Before getting to that, for most of the characters in the Naruto universe (I mean 99%), Sasuke is a person who looks cool, aloof, rude, overbearing, blunt, genius and emotionless. And that’s the truth. Except for Itachi and Naruto. So when I say he is rude or arrogant, it is from the people’s POV. And since I always see myself in Itachi, I see Sasuke as that adorable innocent child who is very honest but forgiving.

I strongly feel that Sasuke has some innocent enchantment towards Naruto ever since he lost his family which later transcended into a bond which cannot be put under Friendship or Bromance. Enchantment, here I meant by, is not in a sexual way but more like the unconscious need to be in the presence of other person. Like walking beside each other eternally. Or even warming up next to a campfire near a chilly beach. You don’t want to fall into the fire but just enjoy the warmth. It maybe totally a platonic love like many claims to be. But his absolute disinterest in any other characters (even just as a friend) and the following traits he shows only to Naruto are clearly not just distinctive of platonic love either. It’s completely beyond platonic.

The following are the traits which Sasuke shows only towards Naruto, could have been avoided or delegated to other characters if the creator really wanted to assert their relationship as just friendship. There are lot of subtexts and emotions which I cannot accept it under the guise of bromance or friendship. It’s just not possible. If someone you like shows all these traits to another person, you should stop thinking about that person and move on.

The traits are :

Preferential Treatment

Attentive

Protective

My body moved on its own

One and Only

Powerful Eyes

Unconscious Closeness

Preferential Treatment

This is the very basic and first thing you show to someone whom you love. Meaning, I will treat this person much different from everyone else. When I was exploring this trait, I couldn’t stop laughing in many places. Because Sasuke is such a trolling machine who mercilessly trolls people who are in his way. He also inspire certain amount of fear which makes him even more unapproachable.

He has this cold bearing where people find it extremely difficult to manage or approach him. It comes off as very rude most of the times. One such example is Sai told Sasuke that he will get along better with him than Naruto. Sasuke put a Genjutsu on him for comparing himself with Naruto. LOL.

What's more funny is most people (Sakura, Orochimaru, Kabuto, Sai, Hinata) usually talk to him politely with honorifics like 'Sasuke-kun'. But he didn't give two shits about them and shitted them all mercilessly.

Here is the infamous proposal from Sakura in part 1.

Well she deserved this one to be honest. Throughout the entire conversation Sasuke never saw her face and responded very bluntly even though she was pouring her heart out crying. There was no visible distress or sadness from Sasuke’s side.

Whereas with Naruto, in the final Valley of The End, we saw him turning towards Naruto and answer him properly when Naruto asked the same question of what Sakura asked. There were so many emotions throughout the battle and Sasuke’s pain of leaving Naruto was clearly shown. Which explains the difference of where Sasuke keeps Naruto in his heart.

The following is the one from Chunin Exams prelims where Sakura is begging for him to quit with tears. The response is an usual 'Stay out of my business'.

Me: Sasuke!!!! Even I don't know how to approach you!!!! I understand you don't like to talk unnecessarily so you just shitted on Sai. But Sakura is your teammate, isn't it?

And then there is this little orange blonde who literally trolls Sasuke.

I really thot Sasuke was going to trash Naruto too, like he could have easily said, 'Naruto, you should also stay out of my business'.

But then

These words are something precious for Naruto. He wished for these words to come from Sasuke someday in his lifetime. But not at that time. And he was truly shocked and very excited. Believe me, when watching that scene, it was really great. But while making analysis like this, it’s absolutely hilarious.

This dynamics is similar to

Sakura: *cries unbearably* Sasuke-kun, I am worried about you. Don’t act so strong.

Sasuke: Shut up. Mind your own business.

Naruto: Bastard! She is worried about you.

Sasuke: Alright, I love you. Now shut up.

ROOOFFFFL :-D

I thought all these childhood bickers were over by part 1 and we will never see it in part 2.

Nope. I was wrong. Kakashi and Sakura were the scapegoats here.

Here's another round of applause from Naruto.

And I honestly cannot comprehend what was going on in Sasuke's mind and why he is really rude to Sakura and Kakashi. It seems he was really irritated by their presence or he maybe thinking they were useless or both.

When Naruto asks him something, he responds without any insults. What baffles me most is that during Infinite Tsukuyomi, Sasuke wanted to kill Naruto for his Revolution and awaiting his fated battle. And yet he answers him properly.

Can you see the pattern here?

He shits on people asking some question even with an utmost polite attitude but when Naruto asks the same question he was like "Alright Sweetie, Am gonna answer anything you want and say anything you like".

The following is the beginning of everything where Naruto can't even swear properly but still Sasuke couldn't even bother.

In short, the way he treats Naruto is quite different and hilarious when compared to the others. With his cold bearing, he absolutely has no need to put up with Naruto's outburst but he still accepts without a care every time. RIP to those souls who got the short end of the stick.

He must have an extreme tolerance towards Naruto's tirades to the point where he can never insult him back. And I also believe 100% that, nobody dares to make such frequent insults on Sasuke to his face except Naruto.

I know SK shippers jump in here to say Naruto is not the only one. But still the dynamics between Karin and Sasuke is simply a mirror image of Naruto and Sasuke, probably she reminded him of Naruto and hence made some exceptions for her because Sasuke never gives a damn about any other clan other than his own, but when Kabuto tells him Karin belongs to Uzumaki clan, he was shocked. I am pretty sure the only other Uzumaki member he knew is none other than Naruto.

Now, does this means he is in super love with Naruto? No.

But the way he treats every other characters and how he treats Naruto exclusively speaks volumes and this trope shouldn’t have existed in the first place. The creator should have made Sasuke treat both of his teammates equally which could’ve deflected the shipping angle.

Attentive

Am not talking about how attentively he analyzes his enemies in the battles. Of course, in that department, Sasuke flies high. This is about how attentive he is to Naruto to the point where he can deduce what Naruto thinks and how Naruto looks without the need to communicate with him.

I know Sasuke suspected Sakura was acting strange before Chunin Exams when she said 'Good Morning' with some hesitation. But the difference here is that Sasuke can identify Naruto without even talking to him.

Funny thing here is that Sasuke was sitting somewhere far behind from Naruto and yet he could pick up Naruto getting freaked out without seeing his face.

Who could forget about the famous ‘Where’s real Naruto?’ episode during Chunin Exams?. It would’ve been fine if this happened once. But the creator went ahead and made this thing happen twice under entirely different situations. And everytime Sasuke can find fake Naruto without fail. This scene conveys Sasuke is very observant towards Naruto’s appearance & fighting skills (the way he evades an attack).

Now, being attentive to someone is not a special thing which attributes to love. But considering Sasuke’s personality who is aloof and focused on his own world, knowing Naruto like the back of his hand is way too descriptive. Only someone who really understands the other person or constantly paying attention can find out such subtle changes. It doesn’t end here.

This is the battle between Gaara and Naruto. Where Naruto was literally confused about how to save his friends from Gaara who is much more powerful. And yet Sasuke can find Naruto’s mood just by seeing him.

Me: Yes, Sasuke!!! Gaara happened to pass by Naruto and forgot to kill him on a whim!!! So, Naruto is scared to the shit!!

Also Me: You guys always bicker with each other and are not best of friends. Sasuke!!! How could you analyze his mood just by looking at Naruto????

In Shippuden, There’s no inner monologue like the above, but whenever Naruto appears before him (Orochimaru’s hideout, Bridge, War arc), Sasuke gives his undivided attention to him. He even went so far as to advice him to pay attention to the battle. And I was like “Wait!!! you wanted to kill him... why pay attention to him at all? Geez”.

As much as you want to think that Sasuke doesn’t care about anyone, he does care about Naruto to the point where he doesn’t want him to be worried. How thoughtful just for a ‘teammate’.

How did Sasuke knew that Naruto would worry about him?, I wonder.

But all these things started from this

This boy has been noticing Naruto from way back when he was around 7 when he lost his family. Of course he would know every little things about Naruto because for some undefinable reason he couldn’t stop paying his attention to Naruto. A lineup of girls vying for his attention because of his cool appearance, whereas Sasuke simply loved Naruto without any reservations but because of his childish and warm personality which reminded him of his family.

‘I couldn’t stop paying attention to you’ and in some translations the words were ‘I couldn’t take my eyes off you’. Either way, these words are not for someone you see just as a friend let alone a brother.

Protectiveness

I can go on and on about how protective Sasuke is towards Naruto. I can write a separate post about it. This is the most important aspects of this ship which makes it sail higher than any other ships.

Of course, this is the Ninja world where people wants to protect each other and at the same time kill each other too. Sasuke protecting Naruto and Naruto protecting Sasuke is not too special. In fact, one of the weak and pathetic character like Sakura was saved once in every three episodes by Naruto or Kakashi or even by Sasuke sometimes.

And yet here I am mentioning protectiveness as the most important aspect of this ship. So what differentiates?

The way Sasuke protects Naruto is one of the intense thing I’ve ever seen. When I watch this series, I gained this immense ability to put myself in other characters mind just like Naruto. When I put myself in Sasuke’s mind whenever he tried to protect Naruto under different conditions, I simply cannot put their relationship under Friendship.

Here, Naruto is fighting Gaara in part 1 and Naruto was repelled by his own attack from the paper bomb. Sasuke being already battered by his curse mark bruise and he couldn’t move an inch. And yet he is shielding Naruto even though it is completely unnecessary because Naruto bumping into a tree log is completely normal. The creator even went under a lot of pain to draw that panel which took 40% of the page.

Now you may question, many characters even died protecting someone. What’s so special with just shielding?

Like Hinata jumping in for suicide before Pain, Iruka blocking Mizuki’s attack, Tsunade blocking Orochimaru, Neji dying as a ‘Love Cupid’ for hinata and Naruto.... I can cite many things here. What’s common among them all is that they were all perfectly capable of moving around and yet decided to save Naruto.

But that’s not the only point.

Is there any need for him to save Naruto? No.

Will Naruto die if he didn’t shield him? No.

Then why? He could have spent that energy trying to do something for Sakura rather than do a pointless shielding.

And then there is Kushina.

Naruto’s mom was already on the verge of dying as she had Kurama extracted from her body and Jinchuriki without a Tailed Beast will die. Because of Uzumaki clan’s strong life force, she could hold off for a bit longer. When kurama attacked Naruto, she shielded him with her body and saved her son from an imminent death.

Even though Sasuke didn’t die shielding him, but there is a semblance.

Both protected Naruto even when their body condition is worse. That is, Protect at all cost attitude.

I intended to put Land of the Waves arc here as it is very similar to what happens with Kushina. But that’s for an upcoming section.

Now, as a Mother her instinct to protect Naruto is very strong.

But who is Naruto for Sasuke? What makes his instinct so strong to protect someone who is not even related by his blood? Until and unless you love that person dearly you won’t do it.

That brings me to the next thing.

Yeah, it kind of looks ‘very friendly’ to give a 3 layered protection to someone who is already powered up like you and most importantly you want to kill him.(Can I say that looks really romantic?). Anyways my point is different.

What really happens here is this

It is a well established fact that Minato, the Yellow Flash is the fastest shinobi in Narutoverse. It wasn’t surpassed yet. He uses the Hiraishin No Jutsu to teleport at the speed of light. It was invented by none other than Tobirama Senju who is the fastest shinobi of his time.

We basically have two fastest shinobi in the battlefield here. And Minato being the fastest among them, definitely don’t want to blow up near his son for whom he died protecting him once. He wanted to teleport somewhere away and before he could do it, Tobirama teleported the bomb back to Obito.

What many fails to notice here is that all these things are happening in mere seconds. But Sasuke realized it real quick as usual and protects Naruto in an instant. How fast his instinct you may ask? Quicker than the two fastest shinobi on the battlefield and one among them is Naruto’s dad.

What I want to say is Sasuke’s protective instinct is quicker than Naruto’s father and similar to Naruto’s mother.

And you know, I questioned myself during the Chunin Exams arc “I think in the Zabuza arc, Naruto conveniently happened to be near Sasuke, So he protected him at the cost of his life. What if Sakura happens to be there? Would he have done the same? Maybe he would’ve died protecting her too.”

But all of my questions were thrown into drain by Sasuke as if he was able to read my mind. The answer is “Hell! I don’t care if she died. That’s her loss. I will not die for her sake.”

This is really confusing, hilarious and romantic at the same time.

Me: Sasuke!!! I understand why you want to save Jugo... Even though you abandoned him in the Land of Iron. LOL. What are you going to do with Naruto anyway when the whole world is blasted off?

He proved this again in the Kaguya’s Lava dimension too. Before you tell me that he saved Naruto because he needs him to seal off Kaguya, the previous scenario nullifies your argument.

And SS wankers shamelessly defending that Sasuke don’t want Sakura to die by Kaguya’s hands, that’s why he left her to die. Geez!!! Who the hell is Sakura to Kaguya anyway? Even if she were to die by Kaguya’s hands, it would almost look like how Obito died. It’s not bad at all. But falling into the lava pit, burning, screaming.... sssshhhh. Wake the f**k up!!!

Now how can you convince me that this is just Friendship? What’s more funny is Sasuke wanted to kill Naruto later at some point. Throughout the War Arc I was always confused as to why Sasuke even care about Naruto at all? He didn’t care about him ever since he left him 3 or 4 years ago and he doesn’t have to. After all everyone have their own paths to walk on.

Even if I put myself in Sasuke’s mind and see Naruto just as a friend whom I want to kill, I wouldn’t go under so much pain to save him. I would feel like it’s better for him to die by something else rather than me. Because I can’t bring myself to kill someone I know well.

These scenes are not just put there by chance.

Such a strong reflex to protect someone is only possible when you consider that person’s life more than yours.

Does any other ship has such things to show? I’ll wait.

Yeah Sasuke protected Sakura from Orochimaru and Gaara. But he also went so far to wait for Karin and awakened a new power to protect her. So does this means he love those girls?? No. He was just showing a team camaraderie. But it’s funny that later, he tried to kill those girls knowing full well they are unprepared to fight him. While with Naruto, it always comes with a warning. Try to understand this difference. Which is exactly why I didn’t put Sasuke saving Naruto during his Chakra training, or falling from the waterfall and many more. Because they are just a team camaraderie.

I don’t even have to compare with other ships, did Sasuke ever protected anyone like this in the whole series?. These are the things which could’ve been avoided or handled in a different way, like there was no need to emphasize on saving Naruto alone while ignoring others.

My body moved on its own

I don’t need to explain this any deeper. There are many people who says Sasuke is incapable of showing his true feelings. He is cold, rude, aloof and stoic so he always hides his feelings for everyone (mostly this line was used by Sakura wankers who wanted to portray that Sasuke always loved Sakura deeply but never shows). But they fail to understand the irony that one of the most beautiful line in this entire series was told by none other than ‘Sasuke Uchiha’, “My body moved on its own”.

Yet I find Sasuke shows his honest and heartful emotions before the people he loves. If he can show that to Itachi and Naruto, why not with Sakura?

I know those wankers try to say Sasuke repressed all his feelings until Chapter 698, so he has some romantic feelings for Sakura too. Bullshit!!!

Even though he repressed those feelings in his mind, his body always betrays him in the end and his feelings pours out from time to time. That is what this section explores about.

Man, this is the most painful GIF I have ever made.

In his battle with Itachi, he was completely consumed by the feeling of revenge and hatred for his brother. But when Itachi approached him in his final moments with an intention (seemingly) to snatch his eyes, he still couldn't push Itachi away though he could have. Sasuke just looked into his eyes and let him do whatever he was about to do.

Why?, Because he loved his brother so much once that he don't know what to do but simply embrace that moment. These are the moments your mind says to close your eyes or even run away (he totally could have) but his body will not allow him to.

This is what I meant by your body betrays yourself. Even in your darkest moments, you cannot fake. You always show your true emotions towards the person you love. The more you suppress, the more it will burst out.

Here Sasuke’s hatred is glaring through his eyes because Sakura is persuading him to not do something he wants to (as always). His only motivation is to kill that man. His resolve is a real deal.

But in a matter of minutes after giving that long hateful speech with some heavy determination, when he saw that hungry blonde boy who was tied up for trying to steal food, Sasuke just acted on his own and served him food even though he was told not to which could jeopardize his career.

This bipolar dance is something to notice throughout the series and is always interesting to explore. When Sakura tries to dissuade Sasuke from something, he always retorts to insults or an angry stare. But when Naruto accidentally stands in Sasuke’s way, he always involuntarily helps him out.

In short, towards Sakura he was like “Even you cannot take that path away from me” but when turning towards Naruto, he was like “Well, I can risk everything for you at the cost of my path”.

This seals the real deal for SNS ship.

At this point, for us viewers, Naruto is just an orphan who has no friends but always carries his life with a positive spirit hoping that someday he will be accepted by everyone.

Unbeknownst the fact that he already has one person who was willing to die for him and putting all his dreams into fire.

Important thing to notice, It’s entirely at Naruto’s fault for them being in this situation. If Naruto had used a bit of brain to attack from outside the mirror, they wouldn’t have been in this situation. But still Sasuke plunged into the trap without any regrets. That’s the beauty of this scene.

What’s more thrilling is that the creator told us Sasuke loved Naruto in the very next chapter itself.

How?

By making Haku jump before Zabuza knowing full well that he is going to die which is not very different from how Sasuke shielded Naruto.

And not only that, but by making Naruto say “He really loved you”. I got to say the creator may sucks at writing Sakura and Hinata for God only knows for whatever twisted reasons. But when it comes to male characters like Naruto, Sasuke, Itachi, Obito... he was just amazing and on another level.

How?

By indirectly drawing parallels between Sasuke and Haku in a matter of successive chapters.

By dropping indirect hints and crumbs like these to tell us, the audience, the motivations of the characters.

I always had the thought why did he risked his life for a boy who always fights with him? This became more emotional when we get to know the real reason for why Sasuke risked his life much later in chapter 698.

Having faced all the turbulent things in his life, somehow seeing Naruto doing all those childish stuffs made him feel relieved. That warmth was what he needed at that time. He wanted to escape from it but couldn’t. That’s why he embraced his warmth unknowingly in his Team 7 days by constantly reaching out to him starting from asking tips, concerned about having breakfast and training with him to climb the tree.

Sasuke even come to like Naruto more than himself and that’s why he was willing to die for him.

This feeling is definitely not a bromance or friendship. It’s an innocent enchantment you hope to last forever. Which again explains why he tolerated Naruto’s insults and hostility all those times. Because Sasuke knew those childish things were the ones he got attracted to him ever since his childhood. Rather than saying tolerated, I should use the term enjoyed. He really enjoyed those moments being bugged by Naruto for no reason.

Because just like Itachi said to Sasuke once, ‘If you are excellent you become alienated and arrogant even though you were sought after at the beginning’ . But Naruto pestering him means he is very curious about Sasuke which no one else tried. He was adored by those girls for his coolness and revered by those boys for his excellence but nobody really tried to befriend him. But Naruto tried to befriend him through Rivalry. That’s why Sasuke unconsciously started to like him. This also explains why he roasted Sakura for badmouthing him even though Naruto attacked him and tied him up earlier.

If Sasuke can show all these feelings even though he was trying to suppress it towards Naruto and Itachi, Why can’t he show a single normal feeling towards Sakura??? Because there isn’t one. Except for an old Team 7 camaraderie where he saw her as an acquaintance and nothing more.

Many NH shippers claims, but Hinata loved her ‘Naruto-Kun’. She jumped in front of Naruto to save him from Pain, when in reality she just acted selfishly and couldn’t pull out the Chakra rods. Meaning she failed whatever she was about to do.

Another interesting thing to cite for NH shippers, they claim for Naruto, Hinata is the most important person his life. Since when? With that shitty movie called ‘The Last’ with shitty retconned stuff? In all the 699 chapters he always claimed Iruka Sensei and Sasuke were the important people in his life. And you know what? For Hinata to like Naruto, he has to jump in to save her from the bullies. But for Sasuke he just saved Naruto without any validation. He saw Naruto and liked his presence and just did it.

When you could accept that failed attempt as a love, why not accept Sasuke loves Naruto when in fact he succeeded in saving him and that too unconditionally?

This is one of the tropes which should have been avoided if the creator wanted Sasuke and Naruto to be just friends.

One and Only

This is something very special that is offered to that one person in his life. That is Naruto. Even Itachi knew it. That is the Power to influence Sasuke’s heart. This is the fact even Sasuke himself knew it and that’s why he wanted to kill him.

Now don’t compare this with the manipulation shit which Orochimaru and Obito were doing. It’s not that. Many Sasuke fanatics always blame Naruto that he is also manipulating Sasuke just like everyone. That’s totally wrong.

Manipulation is something you do by talking about some twisted facts and make the other person to do what you want to.

Naruto never did that. Ever. Whenever Naruto and Sasuke meet, they always talk about themselves and how they feel. Not the world, not Team 7 or anything. Which is exactly why Sasuke himself willingly left that space in his heart for Naruto when he left him in the Valley of the End which he badly wanted to destroy. Sasuke, of all people, know Naruto is also very honest.

Sasuke lost all his rationality when he went into darkness by stabbing Karin who was helping him in his battle with Danzo. She even replenished his chakra many times. He not only just stabbed her, after when he found her still alive, he decided to finish her off with his Chidori.

And then the pink haired bitch appears before him and started to concoct lies with malicious intent to kill him. This provoked Sasuke more and more to reach this point.

Believe me, when you are lost in darkness, all you need is a small light which can show you a path. Someone who can extend helping hands to lift you up with honesty.

Sakura, being a crass woman, riled up Sasuke further with full of nonsense.

If you want to picture the darkness,

This is exactly how Sasuke feels. He is in so much pain and don’t know how to face it or deal with it. So he started to destroy everything he sees. For him Karin, Sakura, Kakashi are all just some pebbles in his way and want to trample them as he goes. His entire life has become farce after knowing his beloved brother’s real pain and miseries. Now he has no one left from his family.

Until Naruto appears.

He may not be his family, but he is the only person left for him in this world. Which is established in many Naruto endings and even Sasuke himself accepts this with Sage of Six Paths.

But my Cherry Blossom queen really loved Sasuke, she only wanted the good of him. My question is ‘Then why the fuck she tried to kill him? She looked at Sasuke and find that he changed. She didn’t even bothered to find out what’s going on from his side.’ Then how is this considered as wanting only good for him?

Surprisingly Sasuke calmed down a bit, the moment Naruto appears and even started to respond to him which he didn’t before with Kakashi and Sakura. Deep down Sasuke himself knew in his heart that the path he is going through is Self-destructive. Just like Kurama tells Naruto ‘Destroy everything you see’ in the Pain arc when he sprouted upto Eighth Tail, Sasuke’s traumatic mind tells him to ‘Destroy Konoha’.

All he needed was someone to extend an helping hand to tell him what to do without any malice. Naruto did that. Just like what Minato did for Naruto in Pain arc.

After clashing Rasengan with Chidori ,they meet inside the White bubble space and Naruto talks to Sasuke which evoked all his past memories which he never wanted to awaken.

That’s why Sasuke was visibly shaken with Naruto’s words. Because those were the words which mirrors exactly how Sasuke feels too. He was surprised and shocked that Naruto also felt the same way without him ever openly confessing those feelings.

When everyone tried to kill him for his monstrosity, Naruto is the only person standing there seeing him as his friend. Just like how Iruka saw Naruto way back in 1st chapter.

Believe me, even at the depth of darkness, when you see the person you love so much, you will stop and rationalize.

That is exactly why Itachi left Sasuke in Naruto’s hands. He even admitted to Sasuke that his words will not reach him no matter what.

Sasuke may not have abandoned his ambitions at that point. But Naruto gave him a clear path. That is ‘Show all your hatred on me’ and then do whatever you want.

I know SS shippers will claim that back hug from Sakura changed his murderous behaviour during the Chunin Exams. Yes. That’s true. But right after that, when Sasuke was fighting Yoroi in a one-on-one combat, his Cursed Seal flares up again. He retracted that seal out of his sheer will and thought about both Sakura and Naruto who was freaking out without even knowing about the seal. So, it’s not only a Sakura exclusive moment. The creator even went ahead and drawn a panel asking Sakura to not say anything about the Curse Mark to Naruto. Why do that?

As far as I understand, Sasuke saw Naruto and felt the warmth of his family. He singled that out in chapter 698. When Naruto was placed in the same team as him, he started to extend his good side to his other team members as well. But the moment he decided to leave the village, he severed the ties with Sakura (was there ever one apart from considering her as a teammate?) by saying Thank You. Meaning, you helped me many times so thanks for all of that. What’s more pitiful is, he didn’t even look at her face for the entire conversation except for saying ‘You are really annoying’. There is nowhere in the manga where Sasuke singled out Sakura for making him feel anything and did something for her exclusively. It’s all in the context of Team 7.

If Sakura is the most important person in Sasuke’s life, he should have stopped the rampage the moment he saw her but instead he got riled up more and more. Which explains where Sasuke kept her in his heart. Literally nowhere. He threw her into the trash. LOL.

If Hulk can calm down after seeing Betty Ross and you call that love, why not accept Sasuke loves Naruto??

Powerful Eyes

You know, Even in real life, Our eyes always reflects our true feelings, just like how your body betrays your mind , your eyes even betray your body.

Just like how Itachi could never fake his evil brother act in his final moments.

Just like how Sasuke couldn’t turn away from Itachi when he was approaching him to seemingly snatch his eyes.

Uchiha boys being a romantic bunch, always expose their awakening/ reawakening/ evolving their Sharingan in a most distressed situation. Just like Madara and Sasuke exposed their brimming eyes for Hashirama and Naruto. But in this department, Madara is wildly romantic as always. LOL. Despite losing 3 brothers, he awakened his Sharingan only when he was breaking up with his ‘friend’. And Sasuke, he reawakened / evolved Sharingan when trying to save / breaking up with his ‘friend’. Such a Biological defect!!!!

Poor Sakura pathetically fails in this department.

Anyways this part is not about Sharingan anyway. It’s about how such a powerful eyes becomes powerless before those Blue Eyes.

Eye Symbolism is something I really enjoy exploring in this ship.

Like I mentioned earlier, Sasuke has never shown his emotions atleast starting from Part II. He usually never shows any positive emotions like happiness, laughing, pouting, love, excitement (although he has shown all these towards Itachi and Naruto) and is known for negative emotions like anger, annoyance, hatred.

Look at how Sasuke is glaring with hatred for her insensitive words. She deserved this to be honest.

Now, is there any need to show your fury towards Kabuto?

Since the beginning of the Shippuden, some facts have been established strongly:

1. Sasuke has changed by leaps and bounds in terms of his attitude and hatred.

2. Sharingan is pretty dangerous. Many characters including kurama acknowledges it. Sasuke is very adept at using his Sharingan.

Orochimaru maybe right. But he doesn’t know the weakness. LOL

His hatred has reached to a point where he couldn’t think anything rationally and started to kill everyone, just like how Naruto kicked Sakura in his 4 Tailed Kyuubi Mode engulfed with the hatred of Kurama. Meaning, to reach his goal, Sasuke will kill anyone in his path without any hesitation. This shot is the representation of this.

And yet when he saw those particular Blue eyes, he stops his rampage immediately and visibly shocked even. That’s the look of ‘why is that blue eyes here?’

You have every right to accuse me that I am over exaggerating this scene. I am not. Even I wanted to think that way too that I am deluding myself. The creator has only consolidated my view pretty strongly.

There’s no need to emphasize on eyes at all. The anime team has went under so much pain to animate this scene in a satisfying and compelling way.

What’s more? The creator even went under further extent to draw a whole page in the manga focusing on their eye contact after the Rasengan vs Chidori clash. Meaning, Sasuke has calmed down visibly and became very easy to reason with.

Trust me, even in your darker / vulnerable moments, your eyes will reflect your true feelings to the person you love. You cannot be stubborn.

Now did it stop here?? Nope, it happened again in the Final Valley of the End battle too.

Sasuke is usually confident of his Sharingan (rightfully so) and likes to flaunt his eyes just like Madara. He was very sure that he was going to win.

While Sasuke had a clear resolve to kill Naruto when he was showing his back, but the moment he comes close with those Blue Eyes, his heart even pounded strongly (in the anime), and lost the resolve completely which made his Sharingan retract itself unconsciously. Meaning, his eyes betrayed him.

It’s funny that not even a minute ago he was very proud of his Visual Prowess as an Uchiha and his victory is inevitable but the moment he saw those Blue eyes, he just lost. You think I am again exaggerating?. Nope!!!

Oh Dear!!! This doesn’t get more romantic than this. An inescapable gaze from those blue eyes he loved all along.

Sasuke!! What happened to your proud Uchiha eyes?. You just stole Chakra from Naruto, isn’t it? Hints like these are really heartwarming, to be honest.

My entire point is, every character from every arc hypes up Sharingan starting from Zabuza, Haku, Rock Lee, Orochimaru, Kabuto, Kurama and many more, but why put a weakness for Naruto’s eyes?

What I really loved exploring is the way Sasuke totally expressed everything through his eyes in Episode 478.

Sasuke shows his vulnerability towards Naruto with just his eyes. These are not something you show to everyone. Even when Itachi departed finally after releasing Edo Tensei, Sasuke looked sad, shocked and pained but didn’t cry. He accepted the reality of it. The last time when we saw him crying, it was after knowing the truth of Itachi, facing towards the beach and was weeping unbearably because there was no one else for him in this world. But this time, he is next to the person whom he feels truly loved and he doesn’t mind showing it with his eyes.

Well, on multiple rewatches, the clues for their love was already dropped in the 1st Valley of the End fight itself. Sasuke already lost his resolve to kill by balling his chidori fist rather than ramming through his chest. So the feelings inside the bubble are their honest emotions like always.

The pain on the verge of their separation inside the white bubble is clearly evident from their eyes even in their monstrous form. Even in the manga it was mentioned that ‘I can’t turn my back Vs I am not letting you go’

But what they really wanted to be from their childhood was this.

Look at Sasuke, how entranced he was on looking at that innocent boy. Now put yourself at Sasuke’s mind. Will you ever look at your friend like that??? Now, they are probably just 7 here, am not romanticizing. But Sasuke looks enthralled innocently.

But somehow, their paths separated them for who knows how long. But the pain in both their eyes is unbearable. Even the databook, mentioned that separating from Naruto is like ripping half of his body. Well, this proves it.

Now, if they really wanted to portray this as friendship, they never should have given Eye symbolism at all. They should have gone with ‘I was always jealous of you’ thing, like they portrayed in that filler episode 450.I would’ve gladly accepted it as friendship. Because that’s how friends behave when they are jealous and I wasn’t feeling any romance at all. There’s no need of that lengthy monologue on how he was always looking at Naruto and felt pain.

I am telling you, I won’t be looking at my friend like this.

Unconscious closeness

Remember, I’ve written in the beginning of the post that Sasuke enjoys the warmth from Naruto. Meaning, he likes that person’s presence unconsciously and want to be near him. Sasuke proved this many times.

This is the most intense and confusing section I have to dissect for this post. But it’s the most entertaining nonetheless, atleast for me.

Starting from the Land of the Waves arc, here Sasuke is speed walking to match up with Naruto.

Initially I thought, he is trying to be competitive. But instead of walking ahead of Naruto to show who is faster, he just walks beside him. I find this really hilarious and adorable. This just shows Sasuke likes Naruto’s presence so much so that he wants to walk beside him.

Now many SS shippers tries to make this scene for themselves, when it is clearly not.

If you notice Sasuke in the Bell Training, he compares his strength difference with Kakashi and determines to get stronger. Same with Might Guy, he compares Might Guy’s speed with his own Sensei. Meaning, he respects people with strength. Naturally, he should’ve asked her and Sakura would have given him tips wholeheartedly. Because she really succeeded in that training.

Why bother to ask a deadlast?

The only reason I could find is that he wants to befriend him in his own stubborn way. But Poor Soul!!! He didn’t get the tips anyway. LOL. But despite getting the short end of the stick, he never hold it against him. Just like he never held anything against Naruto when he tied him up in Episode 3. All he did was just flaunt how he escaped.

Pretty cool for a 12 year old kid. Because If I were Sasuke, I would hold it for sure.

Once again Sasuke proves how he can care Naruto in his own adorable way.

He could’ve said ‘I am going to train too” if he really intended to train. There is no need to say ‘Going for a Walk’ and ask Naruto about breakfast. This explains that Sasuke simply missed the boy’s prolonged absence and reached out to him in his own cute way.

Now all these doesn’t mean he was in love with him. It’s just a childish attraction which makes him act like that involuntarily.

I just added this GIF to compare with the next scene.

Now Shikamaru falling on Naruto in an unconventional way doesn’t look anywhere romantic. Instead it’s the opposite. They are pretty friendly here.

But Sasuke’s approach to Naruto does looks undeniably sensual and I couldn’t deny the sexual tension that brings with it. (Even when I watched it for the first time having no idea of shipping anyone, I lowkey got creeped and thought, ‘Sasuke!! What have you become? ’)

This scene is something even I can’t dissect. Because honestly I don’t know. Sasuke is a person who never appreciates physical touches nor does he initiates either.

I get this crazy femme fatale vibe when seeing Sasuke with his sexy costume landing at a speed of lightning with his hands wrapped around Naruto and taunting near his ear about what was he doing there? The only reason I could think of is that maybe he missed him for 3 years which made him go unconsciously so close near Naruto. It’s also funny that he could’ve shoved his sword into Naruto’s heart before landing and no one could’ve batted an eyelid.

Damn you, Kishimoto!!! Is this scene absolutely necessary??? What are you trying to convey? Why do you give Sasuke, a sexualized aura?? I understand you love this character so much and you want this character to be desirable among women. Yeah, you succeeded by making Karin behave like a woman in heat, the moment they met. But instead of letting her get close to him, you made Sasuke to say ‘You... Don’t get so close’ whereas with Naruto, you made Sasuke to go willingly touch him in a half hugging stance. Geez!!!

Here comes the most interesting part in this section.

It may seem irrelevant at the beginning but trust me, it will make sense later.

Before that, I would like to appreciate the creator and especially the anime team to bring the battle sequence so lively and different in its own way. If you notice the purpose of every battle that happened in Naruto series, each carries it own meaning and deliberately distinguished. How you ask?

The fight between Deidara vs Sasuke.

Logically Deidara should be dead in the Gaara retrieval arc itself. There is no point for him to chase Sasuke who killed Orochimaru to whom Deidara had nothing to do with. It didn’t impact the story in any way. But the purpose of that battle is to show how far Sasuke has grown up in those 3 years. The way he can use his Sharingan to analyze his enemies abilities and weakness so quickly and take multiple steps ahead, the way he can use Genjutsu and other incredible jutsus in his arsenal were a visual treat.

Now, let’s analyze Sasuke’s arsenal of Jutsus. He can do Teleportation Jutsu, a decent Genjutsu, Chidori Senbon (needles), Raikiri (Chidori sword which ranges to 5 metres), Chidori Nagash (Chidori from his whole body), Transformation Jutsu, Substitution Jutsu Shuriken Jutsu with wire works, Kirin, Gokakyu No jutsu, Sword fighting, basic Hand-to-Hand fighting (I’ve never seen him do it ever since the Chunin Exams with Orochimaru), Archery fighting, Susanoo, Amaterasu and all the Rinnegan abilities.

Based on the jutsus he learned so far and how he applies in every battle, it all confirms two things:

Sasuke is a Medium-Long Range Shinobi

Sasuke’s battles are usually based on his Cleverness

Let’s go for Naruto. He can do Teleportation Jutsu, Sexy Jutsu, Harem no jutsu, Rasengan, Rasen Shuriken, Oodama Rasengan, Biju Dama, Tailed Beast Mode, Kage Bunshin No jutsu, Sage mode jutsu, Frog Kumite, Better Hand-to-Hand combat skills (better than Sasuke), Transformation Jutsu, Substitution Jutsu and all his Six path abilities.

Compared to Sasuke, Naruto’s jutsu variety is very less. But for every 4 punches from Sasuke equals 1 powerful punch from Naruto. Analyzing all of them,

Naruto is a Close-Range Shinobi except for his Rasen Shuriken

Naruto’s battles are usually based on his Jutsu Timing and Unpredictability

Now, Let’s rewind back to 3 years and look at the 1st Valley of the End battle. That battle was cleverly choreographed which carried very intense emotional baggage. Things we never knew about those boys until then were openly admitted and acknowledged. That is, for Sasuke, Naruto became his closest friend. For Naruto, he always wanted to be Sasuke’s friend way back when he was 6 or 7. For both, they already have some unexplainable bond by just looking at each other and smiling secretly.

The theme of that battle started as Am going on my own path vs I can’t allow you to tread on that dangerous path and ended up with I want to break our bond vs I don’t want to.

Now, this posture represents, Naruto is the one who pursues Sasuke to stop him from whatever he was about to do. Meaning, Naruto is the one who is constantly reaching out and Sasuke as usual kicks him out violently, that is he is pushing him away. That’s the essence of the whole battle.

Considering all the battles in the Naruto universe, I categorize them as follows:

Best Calculated (and emotional) battle - Itachi vs Sasuke

Best Hand-to-Hand combat - Kakashi vs Obito (what a fight it was!!!)

Best Mega Powered Up battle - Hashirama vs Madara

Best Emotional battle - Naruto vs Sasuke (1st valley of the end)

Best Unpredictable/Entertaining battle - Naruto vs Pain

Despite having all the potential to fulfill the above categories, The Final Valley of the End Battle never bested in any of them.

As analyzed before, the boys have grown up to greater heights. I expected a battle between Cleverness of Sasuke Vs Unpredictability of Naruto

But what I observed was something so intense. That is Unintentional closeness.

This battle symbolizes one thing: I am going to kill you to get lonely vs I won’t let you kill me because you will be alone.

Being a long range fighter, I expected Sasuke to go for this.

If you have to kill someone you love, it is best to keep your distance. Sasuke knows this full well when he battled with Itachi. Except for some Sword fighting, he maintained a certain distance to fight Itachi throughout, until the very end.

But when fighting Naruto, all I got was this.

That’s when I finally understood that this posture means, the fight is very personal. Which means, Sasuke or Naruto won’t be fighting by sitting on top of each other with their enemies or anyone else. That’s just between them alone.

There was no analysis or cleverness from Sasuke’s side or any Unpredictability from Naruto. It was very bland and Sasuke looked clueless throughout the fight.

It started with some boxing style combat, including stealing hand seals and then some power punches. Very quickly it propels to Susanoo vs Tailed Beast mode. I expected some Hashirama vs Madara level power battle.

But all we saw there was this.

I mean, Come on!!! Man. Even the most Crazy and openly Romantic Uchiha, Madara himself never fought like this in Susanoo with Hashirama (Though Madara must be thinking ‘Damn Hashirama! I should’ve tried this with you’. LOL). Those mega battles carried variety of tactics.

Another thing I noticed was, Sasuke is the one who does lots of talking and constantly pursuing Naruto. Whereas Naruto is uncharacteristically quiet for the most part.

And finally it leads to this.

Sasuke was unconsciously getting closer and closer to Naruto which is the opposite of what he wants to do. Because of that very closeness, he couldn’t look at his eyes with his Sharingan and eventually got an uppercut. It’s like Sasuke was screaming, ‘Hate me’ and Naruto was like ‘Keep talking’.

Every jutsu he had for attacking from a long-range were forgotten. He didn’t even try to put Naruto under Genjutsu. I mean with his Rinnegan, he was capable of putting all the 9 Tailed Beasts into a powerful Genjutsu. Why didn’t he try that with Naruto? There was no Chidori Stream or Lightning Blade.

I can imagine Naruto doing close range fights with someone or even sitting on top of the enemy. Example, part I, Naruto head bumped Gaara. He was literally fighting with his Shadow Clones against a Monster so he had to get closer. Naruto monstrously punching Deidara not knowing the fact that it was a clay clone.

But Sasuke??? Can you imagine Sasuke sitting on top of the enemy and punching to pulp??? No way. Not a chance.!!!

In one way or other way, Sasuke was always in the close proximity with Naruto throughout the battle and touching each other which is totally uncharacteristic of him when compared to his other battles.

Every battle he ever fought was always at a distance which is the clear representation of his own character. He is calculative, analytical, precise and moves fluidly with a flair like a true Ninja unlike Naruto who is always reckless, noisy, powerful and clumsy.

Sasuke is someone who never lets his emotions get ahead in the battle, unlike Naruto. This is evident from the War when he was yelling at Naruto to stop worrying about Hokage as they were Edo Tensei who can regenerate. Even when fighting with Itachi, he calculated every move and attacked Itachi without any emotions except at the very end. Sasuke in this final battle forgot who he was and telling us viewers “Am just gonna get closer to Naruto and punch him hard”.

In short, Sasuke completely forgot all his battle tactics he had with Itachi and let his emotions get ahead of his cleverness and got himself closer to Naruto which eventually ended up weakening his resolve to kill him. This is what I meant by Unintentional Closeness.

Anyways, what I understood was, the creator didn’t put all this by without any meaning. It’s all very deliberate and drawn carefully.

Moving onto the final and the most defining moments of SNS.

When I watched this scene for the first time, I can’t comprehend the exact meaning. And I forgot about this later because of my excitement to know what happens next. But what I understood on my rewatch is that, the feelings exchanged here is very pure and innocent but distressing.

Sasuke already lost his resolve to kill by not ramming Naruto with Chidori instead balled up his fist. So he is not contemplating whether or not to kill Naruto.

Sasuke made every effort to leave Naruto and succeeded in it too. But somehow, accidentally, when faced with a person whom he considers so precious in such a close proximity, despite have a stinging pain in his arm, he is feeling the warmth he once felt. He just wants that warmth to prolong for some more time and he can’t able to evade it. So he totally gave in to that desire and feeling it unconsciously. Sasuke always watched Naruto (unbeknownst to him) and felt warmth, relief and weakness. This scene is the symbolic and innocent representation of all those feelings when he saw Naruto and he is exeriencing it for the final time.

Does this means, does Sasuke wants to kiss him? No.

But every symbolism of that being happening is there. It’s just all open to interpretations. The creator could show us how Sasuke fell on his knees and staring at Naruto intently but never intended to show when he got up and left. I don’t understand this twisted mind of the creator.

Added to that, Sasuke was about to say ‘Naruto, I....’ God only knows what he was about to say. But every possibility of Sasuke confessing and kissing is there.

I know the creator cannot approach this directly considering the situations he worked under. But is there any necessity for such an intense scene? Even the anime creators loved this scene and made their own version of making Naruto’s eyes wide open and even more closer.

I wont be watching my friend or sister like that.

That explains all the way back to this fated accidental scene.

There is nothing special about this scene. It’s all very clear that the kiss was accidental. It was really funny. But my point is why Sasuke never beat him to pulp or even push Naruto away like he did with Sakura and Karin? Why did he stood up for Naruto before Sakura? Why did he let go off Naruto even though he tied him up? Too many leeway for a single person in a single episode. And the most important part is, Sasuke thought it was intentional and remembers the taste. LOL.

Does this means he enjoyed the kiss? Not at all.

Most probably he was shocked to see Naruto in such a close proximity after seeing him from a distance for all those years. And he enjoys this as just another prank from Naruto in his own innocent way. But he won’t mind getting another one from Naruto either.

So, to conclude

I believe I made this post from an objective standpoint without making crazy theories and I don’t have to..... since canonical resources were plenty. Obviously my own bias will also be there which is unavoidable. But I tried to question the creative choices of why this scene even exist in the first place many times. Because those are the scenes which made the most impact inside me.

My first watch of Naruto gave me the benefit of doubt that ‘Are they in love? Nah... They are friends. Maybe I am just overthinking... but why does it feel different??’ and that too only after finishing episode 478. After rewatching it again and again, it only consolidated my view.

For Sasuke, his worldly ties are pretty thin and runny. He was always a loner from the beginning even when he had his family. He never bothered to make any friends nor did anyone tried to befriend him. He was pretty close to his family especially Itachi. When he lost everything, somehow he got attracted innocently to Naruto and started to like him. But beyond Naruto he never bothered to add anyone in his heart. He considered Kakashi and Sakura were like his acquaintances who helped him a lot and that’s all.

Then after using Orochimaru, he gathered some high skilled shinobi for killing Itachi. But he made it clear that there don’t need to be any understanding but just co-operation would be enough. But along his way, he just abandoned Jugo, Suigetsu somewhere. He openly said to Karin that she is nothing but a burden to him. When his hatred reached upto a maximum boiling point, he didn’t even hesitate to kill Karin, Kakashi or Sakura. But the moment Naruto appears he calmed down. The proof? He was shocked to see Naruto at first. Then Naruto calls, ‘Sasuke!!!’, to which Sasuke responds with, ‘What?’. Despite becoming a maniac, he could find it in his heart to listen to Naruto.

It took an Edo Tenseified Itachi to bring him some rationality to question his beliefs about destroying Konoha. When Jugo and Suigetsu appear again, he casually asked them, ‘What do you want with me at this point?’, I mean, Come On, Man. LOL. Even during the war arc, when things were about to blast off he only cared about Jugo (who helped him many times, so understandable) and Naruto (Geez!!! LOL).

Even after their final battle, the anime went so far as to create a scene where they were alone in a bright Konoha. But Sasuke looked very peaceful and listening to Naruto intently. When Naruto freaks out about Infinite Tsukuyomi, he casually laughs off and says ‘you still care about the world’. Meaning, he is happy there spending time alone with the person he loves. Doesn’t give a rat’s ass about missing anyone else. (How romantic!!!). Honestly, Sasuke wouldn’t mind if they were to stay that way forever. He would gladly listen to Naruto all day. But when Naruto disappears he freaks out and starting to make up his mind about joining his brother.

It’s very clear that the people he adores are Itachi and Naruto. Towards Itachi, it’s super understandable, because he is his own brother. But Naruto??? Why should the creator go so far as to make Sasuke adores Naruto even after breaking up with him?

And why make Sasuke possessive about Naruto’s life? When Obito was about to kill Naruto with that Black Orbs, Sasuke blocked him and said ‘You are not the One to sever the past, I am’. I understand the logic behind Sasuke’s possessiveness on Itachi’s life because he destroyed his family, childhood and even Itachi wants Sasuke to be the one to kill him. But why possessive on Naruto? He is not related to him by blood. Naruto never did anything wrong to Sasuke to warrant any hate either. You will become possessive on something only when you truly hate it or wholeheartedly love it. There is no middle ground. My point is why put Naruto here at all in the first place?? Believe me, If Sasuke never paid attention to Naruto in the War arc, I would be the first person to jump out of this ship.

Just to give you a basic example, Imagine you are living in a place far away from your family, friends and that loveable person. When Corona hits everywhere and forced Lockdown to travel outside the city, and the situation is getting worse day by day. Whom would you desperately reach out first? You would reach the person whom you are connected well in your family and that loved one. You will prioritize your friends only later. This is the Universal truth. Sasuke was seen showing that same instinct in the War arc towards Naruto whom he was not related by blood. And you all just want me to believe Sasuke sees him as just a friend?? Give me a break!!!

If all those traits I’ve mentioned above have been avoided to a greater extent, I would be happy to believe that they are friends. If not all, at the very least delegate some of the tropes to other people or share some of the tropes with other people along with Naruto. But dumping it all on Naruto alone makes me only curious and incredibly romantic too.

It’s no wonder, Naruto would go so far as to reach out Sasuke even at the expense of his life.

Oh, Did I forget about the cutest and most exclusive trope to SNS?

U-SU-RA-TON-KA-CHI, the most personal word which carries its own meaning and is only for Naruto. So funny that Sasuke has to spend a certain amount of energy to call Naruto using a 6 syllabic word rather than NA-RU-TO, a 3 syllabic word which is much easier.

Disclaimer: This post constituted everything from from Chapter 1 to 699 or Episode 1 to 135 (part 1) + Episode 1 to 479 (Shippuden) excluding fillers. Though Sasuke shinden novel was made into anime, I don’t want to consider that here. As much as I loved the prologue in that novel, I still don’t want to cite that here, as I consider everything after 699 is $$$$ making bullshit.

FUN FACT:

If you put yourself in any character in the Naruto Universe except for Naruto, and ask them, ‘What do you think about Sasuke?’. You know the answer from Sakura, she will say ‘Sasuke-Kun looks very cool and acts aloof, that’s why I love him’. Kakashi will say ‘My favorite student’. And all the other people will say somewhat similar, ‘He is an excellent Shinobi who belongs to the proud Uchiha clan and Naruto’s rival’

But Naruto will be the only person to say this.

“Lot of fun to be around” ....... LOLLLLL.

Me: No, Naruto!!! Clearly not. No one in your universe can have fun with him except you. Go and Ask Sai, Team Taka or your own Team 7. They adore him for being Cool and Talented. But Fun is not the word that equates with Sasuke unless there is no You, Naruto.

Thanks for reading :-D

#sasunaru #narusasu #sasunarusasu #sns #naruto #sasuke #naruto uzumaki #sasuke uchiha #anti sakura #itachi #anti sasusaku #anti naruhina #naruto analysis #naruto and sasuke arent brothers as they never shared a womb #if you see your friend with all these traits then you are no longer just friend

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kim-monsterlings · 4 years ago

Text

Cathair - M Kelpie x F Human (Reader) // NSFW

The pictures do not belong to me. I only created the mood board. Do not repost my work anywhere.

Content: NSFW/Lemon; childhood friends, mentions of inflicted harm to reader (near drowning, scar on left upper arm), minor angst, allusions to death, growing fluff, hugging and intimate embraces, kissing, receiving oral, fading out/allusions to more NSFW - if there is anything else anyone would like added, let me know <3

Wordcount: 5292

Faebruary Summary: after abandoning your childhood home, the memory of your kelpie and your feelings for him draw you back

Notes: apologies for this being so delayed! I had some time off at the beginning of the year, but the lovely Cathair is finally here. I hope you love him! <3

Masterlist // Faebruary Masterlist

Gentle embraces left dark impressions on your back from grieving family; grieving in anticipation, as you travelled the miles to your hometown. Their farewells - certain they would be an eternal goodbye, rang as your only company the closer you came to your abandoned house near the valley.

Crowded by the creeping tree line, it rested abandoned for years. Only faint memory beckoned you through brambles to the smallest clearing, a far way from the closest bus stop, that itself farther from the train station.

Packing light hadn't eased the burden of returning, though you wouldn't stay long. The guise of wanting to pack up your old things would wane after several days, and if that hadn't yet exhausted you, the trial of rekindling what you remembered as more than friendship with the woodland kelpie would.

If he hadn't drowned you by then.

Somehow, your home still stood. Neglected and damaged but there all the same. Untouched without your needing to check: this land cursed by folk wasn't sought after. It had always been your family's, no matter how disputed by the creatures rarely emerging from their murky rivers.

Yet you went in the hopes of finding the kelpie. Your sister's wishing for your wellbeing manifested in delicately crafted charms. Blair's wards were useless against the likes of man-eating creatures, and only somewhat effective against true fae. It hung all the same, like the silver bridle fell at your kelpie's throat across the clearing.

It was only right for Cathair to guard his territory.

Standing before you like a daydream, the dark horse pawed with gnarled hooves before your old home. Too far to see the unforgettable glow in his blackened eyes, the glinting moss tangled in a thick mane danced in the soft wind. The sense of unease at being so close to him twisted your navel, though not from fear like it once had; from pain at seeing him after so long, and now wanting to flee.

With a deep dig at the damp earth, Cathair moved. Faint sunlight glinted along his flank, an eerie sheen forcing your stare down. Today, you wouldn't challenge him. Not so soon, with a low breath close enough to chill through to your bones.

Jagged teeth snapped not far from your shoulder: a warning, and one you wouldn't heed. He passed with a scent so familiar you nearly reached out, desperate for the rush of warmth his thin frame could bring when curled around you.

Instead, you settled for looking back when he left to the trees. "I missed you, Cathair."

With the swish of his tail, the faint scar on your left arm ached. The light of the clearing vanished into the woods too, away from you and nearer the body of deep water a short walk away; close enough someone could run off unnoticed. How cold it was rushed back to you. The emptiness beneath the surface drove you into the untouched house, onto old floorboards creaking with every step.

You had given yourself three days. Optimistic, Blair said. She gave you an hour, whispered onto your shoulder as she saw you off.

If he came near enough to question why, after so long hiding, after years of silence from disappearing late in the night, your excuse would be the same you told your family, though nobody believed it. You wondered if he would cling to the lie and hope you left again.

The same mess waited indoors, of scattered possessions too insignificant, left behind while the mark of a kelpie stung fresh on your arm, and his kin, your friend, chased you away as you ran.

If he came closer again, you would tell him the truth. That Cathair's brutality in defending you as you nearly drowned hadn't forced you away, but his family had. It was the fault of his brother for seeking you out and dragging you down the banks into cold water. Cathair saved you.

The fresh bedsheets almost smelled like him.

Coming home brought a sleep long into the morning. Even as a lie, you still began sifting through old diaries, some with handwriting far harder to read than the delicate script from your family. This curled and looped inconsistently, signed by the little boy with dark hair, always your shadow in photographs pinned to the pages.

The photos told the same stories of the friendship you remembered, while your sister preferred the safety of indoors until night, when the child with a smile wider and brighter than yours returned to the woods. They told of you both growing up, just out of reach of Cathair's family - before his brother came from the waters in his footsteps.

By the time your back ached from leaning over faded pages, it was late afternoon. The groove deep outside the threshold hadn't been crossed. Even left untouched, the figure lurking in the forest darted closer. Out of view, but there.

Here.

The empty bag on your shoulder swung when you reached for your phone, unsurprised to find the call from Blair. You'd told her of your arrival, reassuring her - and everyone she would then turn to, that you hadn't yet been stolen by fae folk.

Surviving the night was different, and her breath caught on the other end when you answered with, "I'm alive and unharmed. You can stop checking on me."

"Never," she said, her small, light laugh rushing over you. "Is it still standing?"

"Barely."

The doorframe held beneath your shoulder. Blair replied, something quiet and nonsense. This was all padding until she could pester for more and as she fretted, you looked to the sheen of moss along the kelpie's mane, cautiously stepping from the trees.

"Hello?"

"Sorry. I'm here," you said, and your sister cleared her throat.

Blair spoke softer, as though knowing where your focus drifted in the pause. "His necklace," she said and even through the trees, the slight reflection of the bridle glinted low on the kelpie's chest. "Have you broken him?"

"He doesn't need breaking. He never has." Her sigh followed yours. Cathair held steady among the trees as you came to stand further from the door, and a part of you hoped he heard as you said, "I trust him."

"You trust the kin of the kelpie who tried to drown you?"

His ears twitching may have been coincidence before, but the rising of his head couldn't be. Your stare held. "With my life."

There was little more to say to one another. They disapproved and you didn't care. The impasse was as old as you, so you promised to speak later - to reassure her that you were still alive with a promise you would be home soon, before shrugging your bag right and drawing in a breath.

"Cathair?"

Hooves stepped forth. Still not the form you wished for - not the sweet embrace, the lilting charm inherent in folk - but the dark horse revealing himself completely now still tripped your pulse.

"Hi," you whispered, quiet, but he heard as well as he heard your call, his tail whipping. "Is it just you? Not... not your family?"

His muzzle twisted. With the inherent threat, you had to swallow a laugh. It only lured you further from the safety of your home. This creature, this gentle kelpie responsible for saving your life, wouldn’t harm you, and still, the land hadn't disturbed your rest. A family of kelpies would've sought the first trespassing human out in a night, or less.

Cathair's head fell low. Yes. Only him.

Nothing betrayed the fate of his family, even as his ears continued twitching back. However they came to leave their land, whatever chased them or otherwise, it was well-deserved. Your deep scar ached as you reached to scratch it, drawing sharpened eyes before the shadows embraced enshrouded again.

Branches parted for his wide form and created a path you followed. It veered down to the water, the path well-trodden - one you remembered clear enough, from only one journey down - but you turned away.

Unfamiliar faces watched you walk through the town you once called home. The few you remembered, friends you thought of as family, like distant cousins, had followed yours in moving away from land plagued by folk, and you busied yourself in buying the supplies you needed for the rest of your stay, if not a little extra, too.

You were home within the hour, bag weighed down by fresh food, a small first aid kit - as a precaution, and a heavy bundle of meat in your arms. If there hadn't been a curled horse before your home, the fresh scent would've enticed him from the water.

"Did you miss me?" His head lifted, only enough to narrow at the bundle. The trembling energy tight in your stomach pulled you closer. "Did you think I'd leave so soon?"

Cathair rose, though you held steady; you had to. Muscles locked as the creature with unnatural jaws crept closer, your throat tight. Hot breaths fanned across your face, the kelpie standing well over you. Like this, the allure of his bridle made your fingers twitch.

If he were human, nothing would have stopped you from leaning into him.

Instead, you lifted your chin. "Want an apple?"

Dark ears twitched forward, a faint green to his coat enough for your fingers to curl against reaching for him. This close, even looking at his chain was a feat itself; any other kelpie would have reared back from the looming threat of subjugation. Extending your hand never made you fear an extra nip to your fingertips, but still, your breath caught. Only a slight lean closer and you would be near enough to snatch the bridle away, trapping him as he was now.

You wanted him back, not trapped.

One huff and the apple lifted from your palm, snatched by a jaw opening too far, flesh jagged like his teeth.

"You're welcome," you teased. His tail twitched but he didn't move. When his head lowered, you couldn't help smiling. Cathair nudged his muzzle against your empty palm, nickering softly. "If you come back later, there may be spare meat for you."

Reaching out had been ambitious. Cathair darted back before you could stroke his long mane and when he faded without turning, the constriction in your chest drew tighter.

Banishing him from your thoughts wasn't so easy now you were no longer far from him. Out of sight perhaps, but only minutes from where you fretted over long-settled dust. It passed the time, to trace old etches into walls from hours playing with your sister, until it darkened enough outside that a faint glow from beyond the door beckoned you.

That same glow haunted your nightmares after leaving, but soothed you again when you woke, finding comfort in the kelpie who had drawn you from the murky waters rather than sacrificing you to his kin.

That need for comfort ached through you and it had been long enough after forcing yourself to eat something that you reached for a jacket. Not one breath from closing the door at your back, Cathair distanced himself. Water clung to his coat with a tangling of water reeds, knotted and thick. His tail swished at your approach but the unmistakable flaring of his nostrils brought you closer, beginning to smile.

"Sit with me." Without looking to affirm what the coil in your stomach told you - that every scuffle of hooves was another further from you, the two wrapped bundles captivated him. "Please."

Before you, he wouldn't eat. Not like this and not the meat remaining bundled in its wrapping. Cathair joined you, though. Remaining a fair distance and so far your fingertips tingled, forced into your lap and busied by reaching for your snack, in the hope he would join you not like this.

Faced with a kelpie now, heat crept along your cheekbones. That Cathair came at all held you from retreating.

"My sister says hi," you began, picking at one half of the sandwiches, the one intended for you. His ears flicked. "They all do."

And it wasn’t a lie so much as a twisted truth. They missed being here, not necessarily him. Had the rush of hot air not been enough to signify his irritation, the short whinny was plenty. Best not to inform him of their predictions for your improbable journey home.

You pushed the bundle to your back and inched closer. "Have you been alone all this time? Is your family... are they gone?" Head lifting, he nickered as he had that afternoon and even quieter than him, you whispered, "thank you." For saving me.

Whatever laid at the bottom of his territory - whatever was left to, was none of your concern. The kelpie unsettled was, who only shivered worse at your nearing again.

"I wanted to visit. Often. If you had chased me away again," your jaw locked against the words. "It would have broken me, Cathair. Did you miss me, too?"

Not one twitch appeased you. Not one turn to his ears nor stretch of his torn muzzle eased the pang in your chest, thudding like a rib had cracked. The press of your fist into your stomach didn’t lessen it, either.

The curl to your lips wasn't much a smile, reaching your cheeks but not your eyes. Every forced breath scratched your throat. "It's late. Don't you ignore me, okay?"

He remained still while your muscles barely held beneath you. The bundle rested nearer him with every step towards the cabin.

And with every breath taken further from him, the truth in Blair's pleas for you to stay throbbed in your temples. How could you know if Cathair had wanted you to return? If the same kelpie who ensured you left his land longed for you, too, then his snapping jaws wouldn't have mirrored the jaws of his kin when dragging your drowning body under the surface.

If it was nothing more than a wilful fantasy, the soft groan at your back was a hallucination. Rougher pants and deeper grunts spurred your heart into a flurry. While he underwent a change so torturous you could only imagine, you clutched the doorframe with white knuckles for support.

Without an audible footstep, heat pressed to your back. Hastened breaths nestled against your hair, lips pressing to your crown. It strained your senses when he whispered your name, with his arms creeping around your waist and drawing you to him, back from the door.

Grooves to his palm tickled brushing to yours. Cathair slid his fingers down, and swayed when you softened to his chest. Turning as far as his shoulder, your kissed the pale skin, gently first, before returning the favour and stealing a breath of his scent.

Kelpies hardly changed far from humans, and he had been so alone. The embrace eased your tremors to little more than a whisper at his chest. "Will you come inside?"

He only hummed low, breathing, "no."

So simple, yet one syllable broke you. He held you from turning completely, his fingertips stroking the backs of your hands. "Why not?"

"No," he said. Large palms fell to run down your thighs and against your hips, binding you to him. Familiar muscle from his bare frame tensed and the press of a chain dug into your back. "Not alone with you."

Before you asked again, his touch flitted against your upper arm. The tracing of your scar left you paralysed long after his return into the woods.

No matter how far you dared venture along the same path he followed, no flitting shadow rose. No prints from hooves or bare feet led you to him but that scar ached how it never had before.

The softest touch from a window left open along your arm cradled you in your sleep, tricking you into believing he finally came to you. Old nights of the window opening wide enough for a slender frame to sneak indoors came to mind and the wind mimicked his embrace, careful, and always cold.

But he hadn't come inside. He wouldn't.

Little remained to sort through. Meaningless and pointless now to complete, yet you wasted the day sifting through them. Some - sketchbooks, usually - settled with smeared prints, like someone had traced where you had before leaving. You ran over the jagged edges left from torn pages, matching the paper you had rushed to carry away; portraits of him, old messages passed in notebooks. More pages were missing, though.

Maybe the faint scent lingering on old bedsheets hadn't been just wishful thoughts.

Only for fresh air, you cracked the door open late that night. To find bright eyes fixated on you frightened you back, staggering against the frame, forgetting in that second who watched.

He never faltered.

Guilt gnawed at you the longer you stood in the doorway, but you wouldn't go further with his heavy tail swishing, no doubt his sharp teeth bared if you approached now, so late.

"Cathair," you whispered, and his dark form moved with a trembling shudder. "I'll leave soon. Just... just come in, and sleep warm. I feel bad enough as it is." When fae folk made no move to come closer, you sighed and let the door close, calling, "goodnight."

Collapsing onto the cushions in the dark living room was followed by chills creeping over you. With the land of a kelpie came an unease, a familiarity haunting every sight. Not every night could be so peaceful and you tossed restlessly, until the first rap of the door felt more like your thoughts taunting you than reality.

For one, slow step indoors, your intended bed for the night hadn't been within his line of sight, but Cathair turned only to you. The door closed at his back and he crept closer, bare from the hips up - clad only in torn fabric hanging from his thighs, hardly covering him. Soft light cast a gentler glow on him now, along the dark hairs of his chest, the impression of bone ghosting his thin frame. You longed to touch him where you used to, along the curve of his collarbones, where you once toyed with his necklace without ever contemplating breaking him.

Blair would tell you to snatch it from him, to bring him to his knees. You would have him, your Cathair, then, but he wouldn’t be the same - not trapped and enslaved.

You couldn’t move. When he fell before you to his knees, a hand rising slowly, you relished in the familiar heat leaning over you. Moss-thickened hair framed sharp features, clinging to his pale flesh. Beneath that silken hair, thin slits to his neck flattened now on land. He touched your cheek with slow, deep breaths.

Then he softened, fingertips running down your throat. "You are too comfortable around me."

It was too late for an argument, any debate - and it would be a fight. You wouldn't stop until Cathair welcomed you like he used to, with his smile unnaturally wide and long arms curling you close, but now was too late, too dark in your moon-lit lounge.

This may have been the first time Cathair came through the door in your presence. It was unheard of for a kelpie to pine after a human, but to follow through; to slip into your bed and kiss you, careful to hide his daggered teeth, only enticed his family. It made you a challenge.

The cushion became your pillow after you kissed his palm and his touch fell back. With the room dark and your trust implicit, you closed your eyes. As hesitant as to your cheek, his fingertips fell down your waist.

"There is room for two here," you whispered. "Room for two in the bed. In our-"

His chest warmed beneath your cheek and with each careful stride nearer the bedroom once shared in secret, his heart beat harder under your temple. The weight of his bridle tucked near your crown, hanging heavy from his throat but you rested by his shoulder rather than risk hurting him.

"I do miss you," you said quietly. Your hand stroked down the slope of his chest, hugging him closer. “I really do.”

His breath warmed your cheek. "You're tired."

"Tired of wishing you stayed."

Cathair stiffened around you for the slightest moment. "I never left."

The first bend to his knees came and you made to lean back, only for a rough grunt to choke in his throat. He held you close until the bedsheets made space before laying you back, lingering only to tuck back your hair.

"Cathair-"

"Goodnight."

The lithe muscles to his back rippled at your fingers on his wrist. His arm to your lips made him swallow hard, the kiss softening just below his elbow, where the scar forever wounding your arm rested.

"Will you stay? Stay on the sofa."

He turned, a kiss returned to your palm, a hint of a small smile, before the bedroom door closed. The fleeting skim of teeth warmed your stomach in a rush of everything but fear.

You woke at the front door closing.

Blair, in the least, didn't approve. Your parents wouldn't be told of your late night visit, and you couldn't promise your sister it wouldn't happen again. Not as you tightened your coat around your chest and followed the path laid by hooves.

Thick boots couldn't steady you over damp earth and fallen leaves. With every step from your home, the woods quieted. Bird songs softened until your steps alone rang in the air.

That pool left you frozen, the creature within looking so much like another pale-bodied being that strength escaped you. Several years before, that cold water rushed into your lungs. How he could swim in it, live in it, reminded you of the nature of the man wading deeper.

And still, you would give anything to be with him again.

The figure waist-deep tilted his head. Thin hair floated with the murky water, rippling against the shadows of his lithe muscles.

"When will you leave?"

The invitation back indoors fell silent at your lips. Cathair held his palms where water ran, a glimmer from his chain against the surface. He strode deeper in your silence, up to his shoulders blades. Following him even into deserted waters, no matter your trust, couldn't happen today, and he crept to his throat.

"You said you would leave me again. Soon. So," he murmured, head tipping back, moss clinging to his crown. "Go."

Before he fell, before he returned to pretending you weren't here, you dug your feet deeper into the ground. "I'm here. You forced us out, too," you called, harsh and unsympathetic to the sudden locking of his muscles. "I wanted to be with you, Cathair. I want...” When your words trembled, the sting rose to blur your vision. "Send me away. I won't come back again."

Halfway home, your foot fell from a loose stone. The soft whisper of your name on the wind beckoned you back, though you continued until you could collapse on a bed he used to lay beside you on, aching to call Blair, though her patronising would worsen your suffering. Either you drowned or returned miserable and all you wanted was the kelpie hiding from you.

If he wouldn't come to you within the next days, you would be home in less than week. The fresh air walking to town spared you the time to torment yourself with thoughts of him, busy feigning passing smiles, hoping nobody would recognise you as the girl who nearly became a kelpie's prey; the girl who still wanted one.

Before dark, you rested surrounded by disorganized possessions that ought to be burned, lest you turn to them again for comfort. Some things you posted home that day, old scraps and photos, but there was nothing more you could do to busy yourself.

Nothing more to do than close your eyes against the trick of light nearing your home.

Still, he knocked, as though you would refuse him. You didn't answer, either way.

"Bags?" Hardly a step through the open bedroom door, he whispered and stilled. Careful touches flitted over the straps, following the abandoned pile of clothes for the journey home beside them. His body fell with all the grace of something other, cradling your loose scarf and bringing it to his face. When his eyes closed, your heart lurched.

"You're forcing me away again."

His shoulders hunched. The scarf muffled him before he clutched it in a tight fist, stroking the material. "This coming morning?"

As you intended, he flinched when you said, "I have no reason to stay."

Cathair came closer in the dim light, and you struggled to sit up faced with his sudden decision to cross the distance. He was bare, the pale of his body tinged, bar the necklace dangling down his chest. Your scarf fell now you were within his hold. When he reached out to you, his fingers were cold on your cheek, slender and running back to lift your head.

"I wanted you to have my bridle." Breath left you on a sharp rush, and Cathair pressed himself closer. He cradled your face and when his seemingly empty eyes found yours, he held you there. They glistened. "Before you left, it was to be yours."

The last time you had seen him, in the thick of night and holding back a cry, he hadn't spoken. You told yourself it must have been the same pain at being apart, that he would miss you just as much, then he never reached out, never replied to letters delivered here, so you fought to move on, too.

But looking at him now, fallen onto his knees and offering servitude, your heart broke for him. Cathair curled his fingers at your waist and clutched the thin slip when you turned, and he bowed his head to lean against your thighs.

"I don't blame you for that night," you said quietly. His shoulders rose with a sharp breath. His raven hair had the same shimmering to it as his body when you brushed back the thin strands, careful to avoid jostling him. "I trust you. I chose to befriend you, Cathair, and you saved me when your brother-"

"You left."

The scar on your arm throbbed with a phantom pain at the memory of sharp teeth catching at you. No human could dismount a kelpie, and Cathair swung to help, to fight off his brother, but dislodging you would leave you helpless again in a river of kelpies unable to swim with a wound so deep. Saving you from drowning first then protecting you, he had nothing to guilt himself for.

Then you left.

That same night he whinnied and rose from the riverbed as you ran. He followed not far behind, tail swishing fast until he turned and left you fleeing.

Cathair hardly reacted when you touched the thin bridle, but he lifted his head, eyes round and shadowed. "It is yours. Take it."

"I don't need the bridle to trust you. Unless you... unless you want to leave, to live out your life in that form, then I won't take it."

"Why?"

"I don't want to enslave you!"

His thin lips rose in an eerie semblance of a smile. "Why do you trust me?"

"Cathair," you whispered, and it was you reaching to frame his cold face, brushing your thumbs beneath his eyes. His lips turned to your wrist. "Why wouldn't I? I've loved you my whole life, and you've never once abused my trust. You've never once hurt me, tried to drown me or eat me-"

His teeth nicked at your wrist, though he was fast to kiss the soft skin again, a warmth in his voice when he spoke. "I could."

"You could. Do you want to?"

His body rose, leaning on his knees with large hands gentle on your thighs, before pressing his lips to yours. Tenderly, without moving for a breath when you held still, desperately trying to hold yourself back from scaring him away.

Cathair fell back with a soft thud. The brush of his hands upwards made you soften, but you mistook it for a way to hold you, not the question it was when his thumbs dipped and pressed your legs to part. He bowed low and brought his lips to your inner thigh, drawing in slow, steady breaths, before his lips softened on the thin fabric barring him from your body.

"Do you trust me?"

"With my life."

"I want to taste you."

With his touch guiding you, Cathair laid a warming hand to your stomach. He ushered you back, fingers tugging at your underwear until you were bare, your slip thrown away.

He trembled and lifted your thighs up to his shoulders, breathing deep, and the first kiss was experimental. He watched you tighten, your legs coming to press at his head until he returned low, guiding his hot kisses down before letting his tongue slip against you, and you cried his name. As you gasped now, it came different to when you spoke to him in the woods, with such power he himself groaned, and when he tasted you again, ran his nose up to nudge against your flushed nerves.

"You taste divine."

Rougher breaths flushed against your bare heat, awakening the heat molten in your navel. Like he knew, Cathair looked up, holding your desperate stare before his lips came around your flushing clit. Your hips bucked and he sucked, drawing a rough cry from your throat.

"That's it," he murmured. "Let me have you on my tongue."

Too flustered, too lost in the gentle touches, his hand running up your stomach to run against your breast made you arch into him. Cathair's soft laugh made you keen, his fingers teasing your nipple and rolling it beneath his thumb. The other hand, though it slipped your attention, too, began to stroke low, and his middle finger curled itself to the knuckle. Each crook of it had your stomach flipping, and he eased another, stroking against your tight walls until you whimpered.

"Please- I'm close-"

"I know, love," he whispered, and his fingers pressed you wide for his thick tongue to dip up, to taste you there. Tension tangled heavy in your stomach and he curled his fingers once more, the cold touch of a chain against your thigh a stark difference to how hot his breaths were, lapping with fire. "Show me how much you love me," he murmured, and his lips caught your bud of nerves as you screamed his name and your vision blurred. His sharp teeth grazed where you were most sensitive before chasing your release, kissing up your thighs and still moving his fingers in a way that had you unable to breathe properly. Cathair settled back and with your eyes on him, brought his slick fingers to his mouth, groaning. "You taste like heaven."

You fell back with a heavy head, and he came to lay by your side, soft lips to yours. The taste of you was thick on his tongue, and he laid over you with a hand smoothing back down your stomach. He held you close, his own body hot and pressing into yours.

"I want to stay," you whispered, and reached to bring him impossibly closer. "I want to stay here and be with you again."

Cathair's small smile warmed your heart. As you both curled back against the bed, the kelpie lost in touching your smooth skin, he took your lips again and promised, "I'll always stay with you."

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niallloverontheloose · 3 years ago

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"Stiles made a divine move, but he was only capable of doing that because Scott refused to let Stiles sacrifice himself or anyone hurt Stiles"

Look at what well known harasser and rabid Scott Stan - Derek/Stiles/Peter/Sterek/Steter hater Claude Frollo just posted in the Stiles Stilinski tag on purpose:

https://princeescaluswords.tumblr.com/post/661308239644868608/stiles-played-a-deadly-game-of-goo-and-chess

Hello @princeescaluswords

Aren't you tired of obsessing all over a neurodivergent character you claim to hate and of using every single ableist trope and stereotype to belittle and demonize Stiles in an attempt to prop Scott up?

"Peter claimed that chess was Stiles game, but Peter does tend to exaggerate" Funny how Scott stans are so bothered by Peter praising Stiles and pointing out that chess is Stiles' game to Derek that they need to lie and make shit up in order to belittle/invalidate it, isn't it? And by funny I mean ABLEIST

The most hilarious thing though is that according to antis' own logic, Peter exaggerated when he said he was impressed by Scott's ingenuity in Season 2, too. Everyone who watched Teen Wolf knows that Peter Hale was being blatantly sarcastic and only did it to manipulate Scott into going to Jackson (which Scott did by the way), since Peter never even bothered to hide the fact that Scott can go die a miserable death in a ditch alongside Gerard for all Peter canonically cares and openly mocks Scott "my plan is to get Stiles to come up with a plan" McCall's stupidity throughout the whole series. Thanks for proving a point, Escalus!

"Yes, Stiles did pull off a divine move in the episode of the same name, but he was only capable of doing that because Scott refused to let Stiles sacrifice himself or anyone hurt Stiles in order to save others. He found a way to save everyone, by doing the right thing"

Scott/Posey fans really love to erase canon and give Scott all the credit for his friends' heroic actions and achievements, don't they? Another trait they have in common with Canon Scott McCall

1• Stiles played a deadly game of Go against the Nogitsune AND a game of chess against himself (Void Stiles) simultaneously, repeatedly outsmarted and outwitted the Fox Spirit that chose him as his vessel, and then defeated it by making a Divine Move. Scott didn't do shit except whine, growl, obsess over Allison, make out with his new girlfriend, get his ass handed to him by everyone, be his usual useless self and throw jealous fits/temper tantrums somewhere in the background. Where he belongs

2• Scott McCall doesn't have any claim or authority over his friends outside of Scott stans' self insert power fantasies and delusions. Scott also threw a tantrum because he didn't want Stiles to sacrifice himself and lock himself up in Eichen House to save his friends and everyone else. And yet Stiles ignored Scott's whining and did it anyway. Stiles found a way to save everyone, figured everything out, and did the right thing. And he did all that without conspiring with Gerard behind everyone's back, or lying to everyone, around him, or dehumanising werewolves, or selling the Hales out to the hunters, or violating rape victims. Unlike Scott, who did all those shitty things and still failed miserably at everything

3• No one hurt Stiles in Teen Wolf Season 3B because everyone loves Stiles and no one wanted to hurt him. Not because a whiny, pompous, narcissistic fuckboy with a dumb true alpha title ordered them not to lol

4• Scott McCall doesn't have the authority to allow/or not allow anyone to do anything. Much to his and his fans' eternal chagrin

"You probably would have figured something out. And Scott did. Repeatedly"

Again, that was sarcasm. Both Stiles and Theo used Scott's own narcissism, inflated ego and delusions of moralistic grandeur against him and mocked him for his self righteous hypocrisy to his face. And neither Scott nor his fans even noticed. Also: when did Scott ever figure something out exactly? When he tried but failed to assassinate Gerard? When he thought that he had gone from being utterly shit at lacrosse to being a star athlete in the span of a day because he was just naturally talented? When he threw Derek Hale under the bus and framed him for murder so that he could be free to stalk Allison and play lacrosse? When he claimed that Kira was a werewolf? When he accused Morrell of going around murdering people? When he assaulted and kidnapped Liam and then called Stiles because Scott can't even clean up after his own mess, let alone take responsibility for his own failures and shitty actions? When Theo played him like a cheap kazoo throughout Season 5? Seriously, when??????

As Peter, Lydia, Malia and everyone else have pointed out, Stiles is the clever, super smart one who always figures it out and never takes advantage of his talents.

Meanwhile, Scott is just a self righteous, judgemental, below average hypocrite who always takes the credit for his friends' heroic actions and accomplishments, judges and/or condemns others for things they never even did and conveniently gives himself a free pass for, and can't even plan his way out of a paper bag without his friends' constant help and support

"They portray Stiles as chafing chained to a sub-par relationship with Scott, but Stiles literally has a break down when he thinks he’s done something for which Scott won’t be able to forgive him"

Nothing demonstrates Scott fans' ableism and utter lack of empathy more than them trying to cheapen Stiles' trauma and make it all about their fav. Stiles Stilinski got mentally and physically violated by a Fox Spirit who chose him as his vessel; sacrificed himself and locked himself up in Eichen House - supernatural prison/mental institution - to save everyone else; got abused by the wards; repeatedly forced to kill people; couldn't sleep; has been suffering from panic attacks since he was a child; remembered when his mentally ill mom abused him and called him a monster during his childhood; was stalked and brutally assaulted by Donovan; had accidentally killed his abuser to defend himself; and then got gaslit, dehumanised, judged and victim blamed by Scott for it; got blackmailed by Theo and abandoned by the abusive best friend whose ass Stiles risked his own life to save throughout the whole series ("You need me! You trusted him, too!") And yet Scott Fans will try to make it all about Scott instead... which is another trait antis share with Canon Scott

Scott/Posey fandom's jealousy, ableism, hypocrisy & obsessive hate boner for Stiles and Derek specifically are as blatant and as creepy as ever. Teen Wolf got cancelled due to shitty ratings years ago, and Posey's career followed it down the drain immediately after. But his stans are still out there foaming at the mouth, spewing ableist garbage, and throwing tantrums just because people don't like their shitty fav and have the audacity to prefer Stiles and Derek to Scoot

BUT SCOTT FANS ARE NOT OBSESSED

#submission #anti scott mccall #anti tyler posey #spill that tea

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eveenstar · 4 years ago

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𝑩𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒔 [𝑨 𝑨𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝑯𝒖𝒙 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝑲𝒚𝒍𝒐 𝑹𝒆𝒏 𝑭𝒂𝒏𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 || 𝑭𝒓𝒐𝒛𝒆𝒏 𝑨𝑼]

||➸𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐚𝐧||

Summary: After your sister's coronation, you hoped destiny had bigger plans for you. With the arrival of the king of Alderaan, you finally feel like your life will turn into a fairytale after so many years of being isolated. Maybe you shouldn've have been so hopeful. But not everyone gets a happy ending, and maybe the answers you seek are right down the hallway.

Tags/Warnings: Angst.

Author's Note: Hello! Well, here's chapter 2 as promised. Kinda didn't like the ending, took me 3 takes. I also left a easter egg somewhere in this chapter, wanna see who'll notice it :)) Feedback is much appreciated ♡ Hope y'all enjoy!

Taglist: @girl-next-door-writes

The ball room has never been so colorful like before, and you were certain you had never felt so many eyes laid on you like shadows in the dark. Like they were waiting for one single wrong move from you, a false step, so to say.

Your feet almost slid across the floor as you searched for your grandfather Palpatine in the crowd, he was nowhere to be seen. So many unfamiliar faces and no one to recognize, but again, you had no friends.

"Hello."

You turned around and met the brown eyes of your sister, Rey, who was staring at you with a relaxed smile.

"Oh, hello me?" You stupidly looked around in a brisk, "Uh, hi. You look beautiful! Is that mother's dress?"

An astonishing scarlet dress with a V neckline, you wouldn't say it was adequate for the coronation, but she looked amazing in it. Rey's new crown fit her head perfectly, you swore it was your father's crown but the newly red crystal on it made you doubt a little. What kind of crystal was that, anyway?

"I can say the same about you." Rey sweetly smiled and looked to the huge crowd dancing around the large gala room. She never looked at you for too long, you guessed it was merely because...well, you actually had no idea.

"Your Majesty, the duke of Alzakan."

"Alsakan! Duke of Alsakan! Ahem," You stared at Rey, and given to you two being sisters, you could sense how tense she'd gotten when a taller man approached her and overly exaggerated bowed down. You don't remember hearing about this duke's arrival, even if he made it seem like he was the brightest star of the room.

The queen gave him a polite nod.

"Your Majesty, as your most profitable trading partner, it is an honor to finally meet the true queen of Naboo." The man gently kissed Rey's hand, but even if it was just a respectful greeting, you didn't blame her for being tense. This duke had the energy of a child that ate too much sugar.

Behind Rey, you coughed by accident and it caught their attention as you saw both heads turn to you with brows furrowed. You got your perfect princess posture back and offered them a apologetic smile and a wave.

Rey put herself in front of you as a way of ending this embarassing moment and distract the duke as she offered her hand for a shake.

"I must say the same about you, Duke Pryde. My grandfather spoke very highly of you." This surely boosted Pryde's ego as he smug smirked to his guards behind him, "I hope our trade routes will remain as sucessful as they were with my parents."

"Well, I, uh." Their conversation faded to background noise as you tried to distance yourself from the spotlight and pretend this never happened, maybe if you slowly backed off nobody would notice the younger princess slinding off somewhere.

You felt too many eyes on you, even if your eyes were certain nobody was watching you. You did not plan on disappointing anyone, at least, not at your sister's coronation party. Full of grace, you looked to the crowd and surroundings, and your eyes paused on a strange symbol on the far away wall just to your right. It was a sixteen-rayed symbol inscribed within a hexagon, denoting an explosive force pushing against attempts to contain it.

You were quite sure you'd seen this symbol before, somewhere. Your eyes only focused on the sigil as you tried your hardest to search your memories for it. But, the closer you got to it, an invisible force pushed it further from your grasp. Just like sand slips through your fingers when you attempt to hold it.

In fact, you do not remember your childhood, nor your early teenage years. Not a single thing. You just remember the feelings after something traumatic had happened; the loneliness, the pain, the anger and more loneliness. Sometimes, as of right now, your mind didn't feel like your own, nor did your memories. They felt like they belonged to someone else. Someone who was not you.

Tu'iea eyes deceive tu, isar nenx jostas savimi

The whispers in the walls. There they were again. They always came from the walls, but you only say that because you hate to admit that they sound right next to you.

"(Y/N)?"

You loudly gasped as you turned around in a fright, your eyes met Rey's once more. She was frowning, and with a slight worried look painted on her eyes. Oh, you hoped nobody heard it.

"Is everything alright?"

You quickly washed off your scared face and laughed to ease the situation you were currently stuck in, hoping she wouldn't do any questions about it. Or mention it by any case.

"Dear stars, yes, I'm quite alright, thank you. It was probably just some bug."

She nodded, and only when she moved away from you that you realized Rey was holding your hand in a way of calling for your attention. Before moving to her side, you glanced an eye to the wall where the symbol was, but it wasn't there.

"This party looks so alive." Rey commented besides you, her eyes were as bright as stars in the sky as she watched the people dance like there was no worries in the whole galaxy.

"Maybe we could keep the gates open." You suggested, your heart full of hope. "Your queen now, Palpatine can't control us anymore. We can bring life back into the palace!"

"We can't just change things without thinking, (Y/N)."

"But why not? It can be like before. I don't understand." You softly grabbed her hands and stared into her eyes, "This party doesn't have to be the only one. We can have plenty of more!"

"That's right," She replied, and your smile stretched further, "You don't understand. You never will. Things will never be like before."

And just like that, you felt your heart shatter into millions of pieces, like somebody just pulled your heart out of your chest and stabbed it right in front of you. Even if you and Rey weren't close, she had never spoken to you that way. No, something changed about her.

Upon realizing her mistake, Rey let go of your hands and smiled, but a strange one. A forced smile.

"Forgive me, I...Excuse me."

Not even giving you the chance to apologize, you watched Rey disappear behind some group of horned beings, which you didn't even try to remember what they were before you heard another voice behind you.

"Princess (Y/N), we meet again." Kylo Ren, that voice was impossible to forget. "I was just about to meet the queen, did something happen?"

"Oh, no, she had to...to talk to some duke of Alzakan." You looked back at with, forcing the same smile Rey had just pulled ten seconds ago.

"You look upset." His coal eyes were analyzing you once more, as if he was trying to read your inner thoughts. His eyes were like black holes, you quote internally, so easy to get lost in. They held so many emotions within. Your mother used to tell you that your eyes are mirrors to your soul, and you believe it, most of the time. You wonder what kind of soul Kylo Ren had.

"I'm sorry, do you want to get some air?"

The king silently nodded and gave you the front lead to the palace private gardens, your most favorite place to wander around and be in contact with nature, since you weren't allowed to leave the palace's grounds.

The echoes of the enchanting gala sounds began to fade in the background at each step you took farther from it. The shiny walls were replaced by glass ones, the only barrier between you and the actual garden. It was ethereal at moonlight, a complete breathtaking view. If you were to choose a place to spend all of eternity, this garden would be the chosen one.

Saturn Gardens.

The name you remember choosing for them when you were a child. Which doesn't make a lot of sense since it's only one garden, but hey, who cares right? Saturn was a funny name, you had a slight feeling it belonged to a name of something you were deeply fond of, but you couldn't quite grasp what it was. Nonetheless, you were thankful you choose a good name for them.

Yvir always told you how heavenly you looked at moonlight, and you're sure of it. This place is almost magical, so peaceful and silent even when there's a party happening just on the end of the hallway. You remember falling asleep here a few times, either it was reading or painting. You were quite a multi-talent person thanks to growing up bored and isolated on a huge palace, so you've gained a few skills here and there. This place was your big centre of inspiration.

You felt free here, from all responsabilities and troubles of life.

You discreetly glanced a curious eye to Kylo, who was walking besides you and attentively exploring the garden with his eyes only. In your mind, you wondered if he had a safe place too. A place where he felt free of everything, where he could relax without troubles, or where he felt inspired. Maybe everyone has something like that, you're not sure.

"Truth be told, I have no idea why my grandfather ordered the gates to be closed, or why most staff was fired." You sighed while your fingers gently passed through some book pages laying there on the pale blue glass table. Kylo looked over to you with an intrigued gaze. "Or why my sister shut me out. It was always me and myself."

So distracted by your thoughts, you barely noticed Kylo taking your hand from the book and hold it. His hands felt warm, surprisingly, as you had imagined that they were cold as ice. In difference to yours, his hands were also far larger. It caused a small smile across your lips.

"I spent most of my childhood lonely too." He admitted, his eyes never leaving your hands. "My parents were either ignoring me or too busy to hear me."

You remember the stories about them, but you didn't want to cross the line and ask him. This conversation you and the king of Alderaan were currently having was something that already cross rule number three; never mention his parents. So this caught you off guard.

Probably noticing your tense posture, Kylo's eyes shifted to yours; they held such a curious yet comforting gaze, as if this was his attempt to say "it's okay" without actually saying those two words. The moon behind him made him seem like an angel.

"I know how you feel." He assured you calmly. You were so lost in his eyes, so lost in the way they stared at you. "You can talk to me."

If you could preserve this moment, you would. You'd keep it close to your heart and protect it from all darkness in the galaxy. The mighty and mysterious Kylo Ren, former prince and now king of Alderaan, just opened his heart to you and pronounced those five words that you had never been told before.

You hoped this wasn't a dream. It'd break your soul if it was.

"Do you dance?" Upon your sudden question, Kylo raised an eyebrow. You got up from your seat and twirled around, loving the way your dress moved. "Will you dance with me?"

Even if his lips didn't move, his eyes expressed all the emotions you needed. They were like a calm ocean, or the rising sun in a early morning.

"My lady," He politely offered you his hand, once more. "It would be my pleasure."

You smiled, the most genuine smile you'd had in a long time. Your heart was filled with joy and excitement, hopefully it wouldn't jump out of your chest by the way it was beating so fast. Faster than the way you rushed to the coronation. You never felt like this for someone, no, and definitely not for him.

His moves were calculated, but so tender-hearted and light. He twirled you around again and kept you close to his chest, one hand on your waist and another one guiding your other hand. At this point, you weren't even worried about making the wrong turn or stepping your foot on his. No, no, it was like your body was no longer your own, but knew perfectly which steps to take and you were glad for that.

In your mind, you imagined dancing like this with Kylo in the middle of a royal ballroom, but it was only you two. With or without music, it didn't matter, you and Kylo were too busy staring at each other's eyes to notice any background sound.

You had no idea how long you two had been dancing, but it ended so quickly.

"May I ask you something?" He asked in a strange, low voice.

"Of course, anything." You stepped a bit away from him once the dance came to an end.

Kylo traced lines alongside your hand, back and forth, and another hand came to meet your cheek as he slowly caressed it.

"Will you marry me?"

Oh dear stars.

Everything stopped around you, at least that's what you felt. You didn't even know what to say or do. Maybe, just maybe, the universe was finally showing you your destiny. That you were worthy of something just like Rey is.

The king of Alderaan had just asked you to marry him, and there was only one answer available to your heart.

You laughed and smile, nodding in happiness, "Yes!"

The ballroom was still full, everybody seemed to be having a great time just like you. Palpatine was nowhere to be seen, but Rey was seen talking to Duke Pryde and some others you assumed were also trading partners. Poor thing, a part of you felt guilty she had to spend her party talking to them. She didn't look happy. But maybe the news you're about to give her will make it up. That's what you hoped for.

Moving through the crowd as you held Kylo's hand had already got you lots of side-eyes and surprised gasps and whispers. This will entertain them for a very long time, and you didn't even try to hide your smile. Why would you? You're the most happy person in this room right now, and you were not going to hide your emotions again.

"Rey! I mean, your Majesty, may I speak to you, please?"

She nodded, excusing herself from the boring companies, and followed you to a more empty space of the room.

"I, I mean, we'd like to ask for your blessing on," You and Kylo looked at each other for a brief moment, "on our marriage!"

Rey almost chocked on her drink and quickly put it down on a table.

"Ma,Marriage?" You nodded. "I'm sorry, I'm quite confused here."

"Well, I know it's a bit of a sudden, and we haven't planned the ceremony, but it could happen here! Just like mother and father's wedding." You chuckled innocently at the thought of it.

"If Your Majesty doesn't mind it, of course." At this comment, that you didn't spare a thought, Rey furrowed her brows at Kylo in a angry stance and dismissed him completely.

"We could invite everyone in the kingdom! We could get so many songs to play and the decoration, oh I'll need to talk with Yvir." You put your hands on your hips, going through a mental list of preparatives for the wedding. You couldn't wait to tell Yvir.

"(Y/N)-"

"Oh stars, I hope you don't mind if Kylo stays here until the wedding! I'll need a few days to plan everything-"

"Absolutely not! (Y/N)!"

You stopped, her loud voice kicking all thoughts you previously had. Kylo, next to you, stared at her with indifference, like this somehow didn't even surprise him.

Rey inhaled calmly, "With all due respect, your Majesty, but my sister can't marry a man she just met."

"What? You can't decide that for me, Rey. I'm an adult, just like you." You crossed your arms, eyebrows furrowed just like hers. Your sister's expression turned to a more uncomfortable one, and you had no idea why this was making her be like that.

"(Y/N), you're too young to know about love."

"And I suppose you know instead? All you ever did was shut everyone out. You shut me out."

All the eyes in the room were now on you three, this time not even a single whisper was heard. Even more silent than the gardens. Rey shifted uncomfortably on her feet, moving her fingers repeatedly, a panicked gaze on her eyes.

"(Y/N)-"

"Just why, why do you do this? Why did you shut me out? What are you so afraid of?" Unlikely and unexpected, you screamed at her, only to regret it the moment that sentence left your mouth. But it was too late.

"That's enough, (Y/N)!"

A rash strong blow sent Kylo flying across the room. Hadn't it been for Kylo placing himself as a shield in front of you, you knew that was intended for you.

"That's the force." Somebody said.

"She's a Jedi!"

#sith translator #yes i used a #no i have no idea if it's star wars correct or not but it looks cool #aNyWaYs #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren #general hux x reader #armitage hux #armitage hux x reader #star wars #star wars x reader #general hux

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112aang · 4 years ago

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Kataang Week 2021: Day 1- Reunion

7 days filled with 7 prompts, all about Kataang. Here is my first submission for this year’s Kataang Week, ‘Reunion.’

Words: 1,836

You can find my ff.net page here, where each day’s entry will be posted, as well as my other stories.

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Katara stood, staring blankly out of the window into the dark, night sky of the Southern Air Temple. She watched as a few air acolytes walked the grounds, tidying up before going to bed.

She had been alone, without him, for two months and was feeling withdraw take over. They had been married for almost two years, and had decided to settle down in his childhood home after the wedding. She had to repeatedly remind herself that he was the Avatar, therefore he wouldn’t always be around; he belonged to the world, not to her. But that didn’t make it any easier on her heart.

Aang had been helping Sokka and Zuko plan and build Republic City off and on for about a year. But two months ago, he was called to the city and hadn’t returned. Katara had guessed that something came up- something that required assistance that only the Avatar could provide. She had received a message by hawk a month into his absence, stating that he would need to stay longer than originally planned, but nothing more- no explanation, and no prediction of exactly how long. She became worried; terrified that something had happened to her husband.

As she looked out into the darkness, her gaze rose, falling on the almost full moon. She thought of Yue, and of her brother. Katara’s mind hadn’t gone that direction in years, but in that moment, she wondered how much Sokka missed the white-haired woman. Of course, he had been married to Suki for almost five years, but did he ever think about Yue? About his first love- the woman whom he couldn’t have.

She sighed, lowering her gaze again, setting it on the stars. Katara loved the Southern Air Temple and the views it provided, especially at night. Their bedroom was at the top of a tower, overlooking the entire temple. From her window, she could see everything- from the courtyard, to the bison resting platform, to the air ball court. The waterbender smiled wistfully, thinking of Aang, and of the first time she had seen the temple.

At first glance, it looked shattered, forgotten in time. But as her eyes fell on the young airbender, she could see the liveliness that had once been, laying under the rubble. His energy radiated off the fallen walls and broken concrete, almost patching them up completely.

When he had asked her if they could settle in the home he once knew, she didn’t even have to think twice about her answer. The air acolytes had been occupying each of the temples, restoring them to their former glory as they learned about the nearly forgotten Air Nomad culture.

Katara could see Aang’s beaming smile in her mind and wished she could go back to that moment, just to see his face again. She absentmindedly placed a hand over her lower abdomen, still staring into the sky.

Aang didn’t know- he couldn’t have known. She had only learned of the baby a month ago, and chose to leave the news out of the returning letter to her husband. They had spoken about children many times throughout their relationship, even before the wedding. Katara knew, as well as Aang, his duty to the world regarding the Air Nation. Being the last airbender, he was responsible for restoring the lost civilization. This task had been looming over his head like a dark cloud since the end of the 100-year war, despite his young age at the time.

The world leaders, including his best friend, Zuko, had been on his case about the subject for years. They had even gone as far as to suggest having multiple surrogates carry his children, in hope of enhancing the chance of producing an airbending child. Aang had shot down that idea immediately, not wanting the idea even on the table. He had chosen Katara and was not going to have children with anyone else, nor was he going to have children solely for the restoration of the Air Nation.

Katara knew what was expected of Aang, but it didn’t turn her away. She loved him and was willing to do whatever it took to help him fulfill his duty to the world.

After telling him, he had put the idea out of her head as quick as it left her lips.

“I want to have children with you because I love you, not because I have to,” he had told her, making her smile.

She had protested slightly, but after much conversation with Aang, she had eventually given in. After all, she also wanted to have children with him for the same reason.

Katara looked down, eyes on her stomach and smiled tenderly, placing both hands on the barely noticeable bump.

She spoke softly, “you are already loved more than you know, my little one.”

Growing up in the South Pole, she had helped her Gran Gran deliver many children, and being a master healer, she had assisted many women with their pregnancies over the years. But feeling a child within herself was a different sensation altogether, and she relished in every facet of it. She didn’t mind the morning sickness, or the cravings- not even the beginnings of swollen ankles and the forgetfulness that she knew accompanied some pregnancies. She only wished Aang were there to share the moments with.

Katara found herself missing him more than she thought she would, but inevitably blamed it on the hormones accompanying her new pregnancy. She had gone months without him before, but had never felt as alone as she did in this moment.

She would often lay awake at night, turning sideways in their bed, imagining him there, next to her. At one point, she had decided to sleep in a guest room, thinking that maybe a change of scenery would help her fall asleep. Sadly, it was all in vain; each time she would close her eyes, Aang’s smiling face was the only thing she could see.

Tonight, however, Katara had decided to give into the insomnia. She remained by the window, staring into the darkness, imagining Appa flying in the distance. She imagined Aang finally coming home to her after two long months.

The waterbender watched as the few remaining acolytes made their way inside, making Katara wonder whether they missed their teacher as much as she missed her husband.

He had been teaching them Air Nomad customs and ways of life for years now, and was relishing in it. She adored seeing him in his natural habitat, educating others about his people.

Katara smiled sadly as a single tear streamed down her face. The waterbender closed her eyes, hugging herself gently. She silently prayed to the spirits for them to bring Aang home- to bring him back to her.

As if they heard her silent pleas, her airbender walked into the bedroom a moment later, utilizing his light footsteps as not to frighten her. His eyes were soft as he watched her form in the window, her back to him. Aang smiled longingly and walked up to her, stopping a few steps short.

“Katara?” he spoke softly, making her eyes open slowly.

She turned around hesitantly, hopeful that it wasn’t an imagination. As her eyes fell on him, she placed a hand over her mouth, tears beginning to cascade down her face. Katara lunged at him, throwing him off balance for a split second until he stood firm, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist.

The waterbender clung to him, digging her face into Aang’s chest, holding on for dear life, as her tears flowed. His own tears began to fall as he hugged her tighter, not wanting to ever let go.

They didn’t speak- they didn’t need to. The two benders clung to each other, eventually sinking to the floor, never letting go.

After what seemed like an eternity, the sobs calmed to slight whimpers between the two, and she kissed him. He returned her kiss with much fervor, holding her face in his hands while she gripped his robes and pulled him closer. After a few moments they reluctantly pulled away, resting their foreheads together. Katara was catching her breath, smiling uncontrollably as Aang did the same. He looked into her blue eyes with his grey ones, tears still slowly falling.

Katara kissed him again, this time short and sweet. He pulled his face from hers and rubbed his thumbs across her cheeks, love emanating from his eyes into hers.

“Aang…” she started, placing her forehead against his once more. “You’re back.”

He smiled, “I am.”

“I missed you,” she pecked his lips. “So much.”

“I missed you too.”

They remained on the stone floor, locked in each other’s embrace for what felt like hours, before finally moving to the bed.

Aang sat in the middle of the bed, leaning against the wall, arms wrapped around Katara as she sat between his legs, her back against his chest. Their cheeks were stained with tears, but still they wore smiles. The waterbender softly traced the arrow on Aang’s hand as he kissed the top of her head lovingly.

“Katara,” he started, quietly. “I’m sorry I was gone for so long; Zuko- “

“No,” she cut him off. “I don’t want to know.”

He started to speak again, to explain the reasoning behind his long absence, but she sat up and turned around in his arms, now facing him.

She caught his lips with hers, one hand cupping his cheek. She pulled away delicately and smiled.

“All that matters is that you’re here now.”

He smiled and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. They stayed that way for a few moments before she pulled away, ready to tell him the news.

“Aang,” she said, sitting in front of him, looking down slightly. “I have... news.”

He became slightly worried, waiting patiently for her to explain further.

She moved a hand to her lower abdomen and looked at him, love apparent in her eyes. His eyebrows raised slightly, mind wandering.

“I’m having a baby… you’re going to be a father.”

Aang eyes filled with tears and he gave her a lopsided grin, making her giggle softly as her eyes became glossy.

“You’re pregnant?”

Katara nodded and he pulled her into an embrace, holding her snug against him. Aang didn’t speak for a few minutes- he just held her close, tears streaming down his face once more as he smiled into her hair.

“I found out shortly after you left and wanted to wait until you got back to tell you.”

She pulled away and he held her face in his hands before pulling her into a passionate kiss, to which she responded with much intensity. They each smiled into the kiss as tears of joy ran down their faces.

He pulled away and rested his forehead against hers, eyes closed, still holding onto her face softly.

“I love you,” he breathed.

She smiled and pecked his nose tenderly.

“I love you too.”

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Next will be ‘Home.’

Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed my submission for day 1 of Kataang Week 2021.

#kataang #aang and katara #kataang fanfic #kataang week #they are always soulemates #gosh i love them #the sweeties #atla #atla aang #atla katara #atla kataang

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i-swear-im-not-a-snitch · 3 years ago

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Chapter One: A Chat With Death

First - Previous - Next - Masterlist - (ao3)

Harry Potter is gone. Dead.

This was the absolute worst case scenario for one Draco Lucius Malfoy, for at the height of the battle, the boy had gone against the Death Eaters and had fought with the Order of the Phoenix. Draco might as well be dead himself at this point. A few months ago, he had overheard a conversation between his aunt Belatrix Lestrange and his father about a prophecy. If Harry had only decided to live through the battle instead of being an idiot Gryffindor and going to the trap in the forest, the battle was as good as won! But Harry Potter just had to go and die. Stupid Gryffindor. Of course the forest was a trap! Did you really think he would let your friends live if they wouldn’t join him? Idiot. Draco was sure he would be executed or publicly tortured for his actions; however, he couldn’t bring himself to regret what he had done.

When Lord Voldemort strode into the courtyard proclaiming his victory with all his followers at his back laughing in the faces of the survivors was the moment Draco finally lost hope. He felt ashamed as he tuned out the Dark Lord’s victory taunts and avoided his family’s eyes. He felt terrible for betraying them; but, it could not be helped. Despite his family loyalties, Draco understood that it was best if the Order of the Phoenix walked out of the war victorious, there was little hope for that now, though. However, when his Mother called for him, he allowed his familial ties to pull him back to his parents, they had already lost.

Several things happened at once. Neville Longbottom, of all people, pulled the Sword of Gryffindor out of the sorting hat and beheaded Nagini. In the midst of the chaos, Harry vanished. He’s alive! Elated, Draco sprinted across the no-man’s land barely dodging several crucios from his lovely aunt to join Neville in valiantly battling the quickly thinning crowd of fleeing death eaters.

Across the field, Harry was dodging curses left and right. Harry doesn’t have a wand. In the most Griffindor thing Draco would probably ever do in his lifetime he shouted.

“Harry!” and Draco threw his wand. However, he would never know if he caught it. At that precise moment, He turned and Lucius Malfoy was standing a few feet away. As he met his father’s eyes, Draco heard two words leave his mouth, Avada Kedavra, and the world went green.

An Eternity later, the green mist gave way to a forest. Not a dark forest like the forbidden one, but more towards something that could be painted in a tasteful child’s bedroom. It was… soothing. Is this what death is like? Draco strolled down one of the many paths, after a few minutes, he came to a pond with an iron and wood bench by it’s shore. The water seemed to be made of diamonds and glorious Koi fish swam in it’s depths. Finally glancing at the branch, Draco was surprised to find it occupied. Am I not dead? The woman on the bench appeared to be at least the equivalent of a ninety year-old muggle. She had wispy white hair that was neatly tucked into a knit, striped hat. At her side was a similarly knit bag filled with needles and yarn. She makes them herself. I was sure I was dead, I heard the curse. The elderly woman on the bench seemed to sense his hesitation and moved her purse to her lap and patted for him to sit with her.

“I must say, I cannot kill you, you are already dead. Sit, let us talk.” He approached the woman and cautiously relaxed into the surprisingly comfortable bench. “That’s better, child.”

“Who are you, exactly and why are we the only ones here? Hundreds of people died today.” The woman smiled.

“Yes, but only one Draco Malfoy died today.” She gave him a few moments to think. “Where do you think we are?” He looked around.

“A forest pond. But I’m dead, so we can’t be at a real pond." Draco thought for a beat. “Are you Death?” The woman grinned wider.

“You are a smart boy, Mr. Malfoy. Very observant. Yes, I am Death. Very clever, very clever.”

“If I may ask, out of all the forms you could take, why an elderly woman?” He politely inquired.

“Most people fear me, Draco. If they fear me, my form will frighten them.”

“So,” Draco frowned. “I don’t fear you? That doesn’t sound right. Everyone fears death.” She shook her head.

“No Draco, you do not fear me, you respect me. Fear and warryness are entirely different.” Death smiled pleasantly, the wrinkles scrunching up in the most welcoming way he could imagine was possible. “It has been a long while since I've talked with someone who is not frightened. It is pleasant.”

“Thank you?”

“Tell me, Draco, how did you die?” He grimaced. What do I have to lose by telling her?

“I betrayed Lord Voldemort and my father killed me for it.” Draco winced in one breath. Death only nodded knowingly.

“Do you feel like you died a noble death, Draco?” He shook his head. Death frowned, “Why would you answer no?”

“I was a coward, I switched sides when things weren’t going my way. I died a cowardly traitor. I betrayed my family!” he had tears in his eyes now, “The worst part is I would do it again! How could I do that to my own parents?” Death’s eyes shone with understanding. “Hell! If I had the chance I would change sides as soon as I received my Hogwarts letter! There’s so much I did wrong! So much.” He sobbed out the last few words and Death began to rub circles on his back comfortingly.

“Oh, poor dear, would you really change everything?”

“If I really knew how wrong I was, I would. I would live on the streets if I had to.” Draco sniffed

“You are a very loyal young man when you believe in something, Draco, this may help you. Could you fetch the golden cube in the pond for me, dear?” Draco frowned, confused, but nodded anyway. “Good! Bring it back to me when you're done.” Draco nodded again and turned to the pond.

Wading Into the water, Draco was pleasantly surprised by the soothing temperature of the crystal clear water. The deeper Draco waded the more koi noticed his presence in their territory. Not used to visitors, the fish swam excitedly around him in circles, some rubbing gently against his legs. It was a deeper pond than he thought it was, he was up to his natural waist when he spotted a shimmer of gold ahead of him that was not a fish. Stepping up to the glimmer, Draco nudged it with his foot. It was heavy and square, so he ducked under the water to grasp at the weighty block. Why in Salazar would Death need a golden cube? With great struggle, Draco managed to carry the cube out of the shimmering water and lie back on the shore. Merlin! I underestimated how big the cube was.

Draco, after a few minutes, rolled over and tiredly sat up to examine his prize. Unlike what he initially suspected, the cube was intricately carved with runes that despite taking Ancient Runes for several years at Hogwarts, Draco could not read or even decide what culture it belonged to. Could it be Death’s own handwriting? That would explain how I have no knowledge about these characters. As Draco contemplated the golden object, a hand tapped him on the shoulder startling him.

“Hello Draco, I see you have the golden cube I asked for.” Death held out her hand with kind eyes and Draco almost felt compelled to give it to her; however, after a second of consideration, he handed it over. It would not be wise to anger Death.

Death turned the gold over in her hand as if it weighed no more than an empty box and began muttering to herself.

“Yes, this will do. Draco, Come here please.” Draco followed her instructions and took both her hands in his hands when she held them out. Death spoke once more and the cube began to spin between them.

“En odn uebe mit dnaht aedy am. Lle wtie su, er ar eras ecna hcdno ces. N osos uo yeva el ots uoi cerpo otsi ti ofu oyot erus aer tsi htn rute ri, evo lym, Efil.” And with the last word, the world went black.

The ground is soft. Grass should not be this soft. What’s the last thing you remember, Draco. … Death. I met Death. Is this the official afterlife? Despite his curiosity, Draco could not bring himself to open his eyes, instead opting for feeling around his surroundings. Moving his hands out to his sides, He determined that he was laying on a blanket. Come on Draco, open your eyes! And he did.

Above him was a canopy enchanted to show an accurate depiction of the stars above in real time. Turning his head he noticed the many dragons chasing each other around on the walls of the room. Salazar! This is my childhood bedroom. The bedroom I vacated in third year! Draco sat up in shock. How did he end up here? Draco immediately began scanning his room for clues, yet, everything was where her remembered they were supposed to be. How odd. At that moment, he noticed a folded piece of paper on the nightstand with his name in the most beautiful handwriting he did not recognise. Did Death send this?

Draco,

I hope your journey has not caused too much shock on your part. However, inquiring about your health is not the purpose of this letter. This is proof. Proof that all you remember is not some strange dream. In your left pocket, you will find a small cube similar to the one I had you retrieve as further proof of your story. You are not crazy. This is a second chance. I have decided that you meant what you said and I will give you the opportunity to turn your speech into action.

Today’s date, as you will soon discover, is June 5th, 1991, the day you receive your Hogwarts letter. I implore you to remember and keep your promise and make good with the time you have received with Life. Good luck and may Death and Time be undone.

Your Final Friend

Draco immediately ran across the room to find an empty notebook to copy the letter into. When he grabbed a quill and ink bottle, Draco used wandless magic to charm the ink invisible to all but him and duplicated the letter, word for word, in his own neat handwriting. The following pages were filled with everything he could remember about the seven years he attended at Hogwarts as well as all the details from the three years Voldemort occupied Malfoy Manor. Ugh. The occupation, arguably the worst three years of his life. The next list Draco made was of people who he didn’t want to die again. The list was short, for now, Draco was certain that it would grow as he got to know the other members of the Order of the Phoenix. Oh Merlin, I’ll have to help Harry Potter on all his little quests throughout the years. He groaned. At least school would never be boring outside of History of Magic class.

There was a knock at the door and Draco steeled his nerves. He would soon have to face his father, the very man who had shot a killing curse at his only son. Who shot a killing curse at him. It was going to be a very rough morning. Lucius, despite his neglect, made sure to attend all birthday breakfasts. Probably for the special food that was prepared on such occasions. Finally collecting his thoughts into a practiced state of occlumency, Draco opened the door.

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Note:

Translation of the ritual.

Life, my love, I return this treasure to you for it is too precious to leave you so soon. Second chances are rare, use it well. May death and time be undone.

Hey yall, MJ here

I’ve decided to start on a harry potter Fiction (Adventures After a Chat With Death) with my new Pseud! (what do you think?) feel free to comment and message me with questions, criticism and POLITE conversation. If you would like to be tagged please let me know

Kisses, MJ

TagList:

@ no one yet

#harry potter #drary #draco malfoy #Albus Dumbledore Bashing #Weasley bashing #time travel #fix-it

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radiojamming · 5 years ago

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J O H N I R V I N G

(February 8th, 1815 - ??)

“So let us consider that all sorrows are meant by God to give us a distaste to this life, and a greater desire to be removed to that world where there will be no more tears or sorrows, no more partings of dear brothers and friends, but where all will be eternal, fixed, and everlasting.”

John Irving was born on February 18th, 1815, at his family home at No. 106 Princes Street in the New Town area of Edinburgh. His father, also named John, was a Writer to the Signet and a close childhood friend of famous Scottish author, Sir Walter Scott. His mother, Agnes Clerk Hay, was the eldest daughter of Colonel Lewis Hay and could claim ancestry from two well-established Scottish clans. Born to a wealthy and respected family, John—a middle child of six surviving siblings—had a life of great opportunity, but also many personal sorrows and tragedies.

Agnes Irving died at Port Seton in the summer of 1823, when John was eight years old. Growing up in her absence, later biographer Benjamin Bell recalled her as a “very excellent, godly woman” and considered her impact on her son as “doubtless”.

After his mother’s death, John became involved in his studies at the New Academy of Edinburgh, a school established by founders such as Sir Walter Scott with a focus on Classical learning, languages, natural sciences, writing, and arithmetic. The latter three categories were topics at which John would come to excel. Fellow students would recall the young Irving as, “a nice fellow, fond of play, with a good deal of quiet humour, courageous, but very slow to quarrel or take offense”. He concluded his studies before the seven-year term, and instead enrolled at the Royal Naval College in London, thereby beginning his career in the Royal Navy.

Despite a setback of a case of scarlet fever, John excelled at his studies to the extent of winning a silver medal in a mathematics competition during the Midsummer term of 1830. He would keep this medal with him as a personal token for the rest of his life. He went on to join the HMS Cordelia and HMS Fly as part of his Naval education, but it was on the HMS Belvidera where he would come into his own and form several lasting relationships.

On the Belvidera, he met fellow midshipmen William Elphinstone Malcolm (affectionately nicknamed “Elphie” by Irving) and George Kingston. Avid in their Christian faith, the three boys became particularly close. Despite a marked attitude on Irving’s part that was later recalled as a “hot temper and a rather domineering manner”, John kept these friends close for most of his life, and would keep close correspondence long after their group disbanded. He attempted to replicate this sort of group upon joining the HMS Edinburgh in 1833. However, this same faith earned his new group the disparaging nickname of the “Holy Ghost boys”, which Irving commented to William Malcolm in a letter as “horrid to relate”. Despite his difficulty socializing, Irving did document some of his adventures on the Edinburgh, such as climbing Mount Etna in Sicily (the weather conditions of which would scar his upper lip with frostbite).

However, another noted change in personality began to emerge, particularly in conjunction with the loss of his sister-in-law, Isabella, in childbirth. The tone of Irving’s letters began to show a streak of melancholy and a disillusionment with the Royal Navy. He would remark to Malcolm of his loss of interest in things of enjoyment, a detachment from his faith which alarmed him, and a disdain for Navy life. In one particularly scathing letter, he exclaimed, “I am so sick of this ship and everything belonging to it,” before reminiscing about better times on the Belvidera. Another letter saw him referring to himself as “miserable” and “wretched”, and claimed that the only thing he had hope in was the Gospel.

His fortunes, in his opinion, were about to change. In 1837, Irving resigned from the Navy in order to pursue sheep-farming in Australia, accompanied by his youngest brother, David. They were given several thousand pounds by their father and the opportunity to purchase land in New South Wales. At first optimistic about this venture, John soon began to realize that his experiences were not to go as expected. Falling wool prices, severe weather, crime, and illness plagued him, to the point that he was afflicted with a near-fatal case of dysentery that left him bedridden for five weeks. Then, in 1841, John received word that his oldest brother, George, had suddenly died of meningitis. Undoubtedly, this was another weight on an already heavy heart.

By 1843, the faltering economy had drained John of nearly all of his finances, nearly leaving him in debt. Upon recommendation from his father, John left his remaining herds and house to David and rejoined the Royal Navy, boarding onto the HMS Favourite in Sydney and returning home to Scotland.

John arrived home in the midst of an event known as The Disruption, a dramatic schism in the Church of Scotland. Baffled by what he called a “mystery”, especially with his older brother Lewis’ involvement, John characteristically commented to Malcolm that “the Gospel seems in no way concerned in the dispute”. Shortly after, he signed onto the HMS Volage and was immediately promoted to Lieutenant.

His time on the Volage was spent in a patrol of the Irish coast in the midst of a revolt advocating for Irish home rule. Irving made several observations of Irish life and politics while also displaying a change in tone towards his Navy career. By 1843, he was now in belief that he could begin on the path towards a Commandership or a Captaincy, and began looking for opportunities to advance. Near the end of the patrol, he had begun to hear rumors about an Arctic exploration attempt. Quickly gathering recommendations from past captains, he applied for the then-unnamed expedition. He spent a short time on the HMS Excellent in the waiting interim.

Upon being accepted onto the HMS Terror, Irving kept a close correspondence with his sister-in-law, Kate Irving. He included sketches of the modified locomotive engine on Terror as well as observations of personnel and ship life. Again, a tone shift became apparent as he seemed to be excited and optimistic about the Expedition and its members. In particular, he appeared to be most pleased with Captain Francis Crozier, remarking, “I like my skipper very well”. It was evident that he was pleased enough with his situation to make lighthearted jokes at the expense of Sir John Franklin, commenting to Kate that their victualing was so good on Terror that, “you need not think we have been eating our shoes”, in reference to Franklin’s famous nickname of ‘the man who ate his own boots’. Irving concluded his correspondence with a farewell letter, believing it would be some time before he would be able to write to Kate again. He expressed his belief that the Passage would be achieved, sent another sketch of Erebus and Terror anchored in a bay in Greenland, and a small sample of Tripe de Roche lichen. This was the last letter received from him.

Irving was mentioned once on the Victory Point Note later found by searchers, in the second note written on April 25th, 1848, with, “This paper was found by Lt. Irving under the cairn supposed to have been built by Sir James Ross in 1831.”

It wasn’t until the summer of 1879 that any further clues were found to John Irving’s fate. An expeditionary group led by Lieutenant Frederick Schwatka and a group of Inuit discovered an above-ground grave that had been picked apart by animals, but held a relatively intact skeleton. Schwatka and Austrian adventurer Heinrich Klutschak uncovered several pieces of canvas that served as the skeleton’s shroud, as well as pieces of blue fabric denoting a Naval officer’s coat, a section of a folded silk handkerchief, a spyglass, and—most notably—a silver medal laying on a flat rock outside of the grave. Further inspection revealed the medal’s owner—John Irving.

Schwatka decided to repatriate the remains back to Edinburgh. At the time, the remains were the only ones to be returned, owing to Schwatka’s belief that the skeleton had been properly identified. Word was sent to John’s older brother, Alexander, as well as his sister, Mary Scott-Moncrieff. Irving’s remaining family arrived in Edinburgh and held a funeral on January 7th, 1881. The funeral and public procession to Dean Cemetery was well-attended, with Irving’s coffin draped with a Union Jack and topped with a Lieutenant’s hat and saber. A gun salute was fired as pallbearers, all sailors, took him to his final resting place. A grave marker bore an impression of the silver mathematics medal that identified him, as well as an etching of his imagined funeral, an epitaph recalling his fate, and a set of stones recalling his grave on King William Island. The final remark came from the Book of Romans, Chapter 8, Verse 35: “ Who shall separate us from the love of Christ shall tribulation or distress - or famine".

In modern times, the identity of the skeleton buried in Edinburgh would be called into question, and indeed remains a mystery. However, there is no doubt that some part of John Irving was buried on that day in 1881, whether it was his body or his memory. To his family, at least, he found some semblance of peace and was given the rare opportunity to come home.

#franklin expedition #amc the terror #terror blogging #john irving #irving sunday #I'VE BEEN WAITING TO POST THIS ALL WEEK #NOW I'M GONNA GO PASS OUT

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ryqoshay · 4 years ago

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TA Followup: RPG Night

Followup Post for Tri-Arame: RPG Night

Author’s Note Continued: I actually started writing this scene about halfway through writing Change Overnight, because I had I finally gotten around to reading Setsu and Ayu’s Bond stories in SIFAS. Then I got sidetracked a bit and have now finally made it back.

So, I suppose some of the promised character details are in order. This absolutely will get long, so it’s going to have to go under the cut.

First off, though I don’t bring up much detail in this scene, more may come into play if I write other scenes like this, this takes place in a world created by the DM with whom I’ve played the most over the years. All of the in-game characters, and many, many others came into being because what was supposed to be a two paragraph character bio for a character I was to play in one of their D&D games, turned into a two page story. Then twenty. Then two hundred... New characters. New towns. New spells. New artifacts. New classes. And much more.

And then I stopped. I honestly don’t even remember why, as it certainly was not for the lack of ideas or notes or outlines for new scenes or the like. But the characters and their many stories have been gathering digital dust on my drives ever since.

I still think about them often, though. Quotes in movies and anime and such regularly make me consider what character might say them and in what circumstance. My headcanons for NicoMaki were shaped in part by what I already had planned for RyqoYoza. The reverse applies as well, as I translated one of Ooshima Tomo’s works into something that would work for RyqoYoza.

And maybe writing this scene will inspire me to write more of my D&D story. Who knows. But enough of that, you’re probably here more to learn about the new characters than to read my ramblings. Well, I will apologize in advance, as I may end up rambling a bit about them. To more easily locate a given character, I will bold their name at the start of their entry.

Also, the mercenary guild, of which all of the characters below are members, is known as Ryqo’s Roughnecks. Yes, those Roughnecks, from Starship Troopers, because I loved that movie, that’s really the only reason. I already had Ricochet as a character, so Rico’s Roughnecks was a quick and easy choice for when I wanted to register a guild in City of Heroes.

Ryqoshay, real name Rebecca Bouteillevoix, is a young girl who took over a mercenary guild after her parents were killed. Her father was raising her to take over the guild after him anyway, but she ended up doing so a lot sooner than either would have liked.

Her original nickname growing up was Ricochet as she was always “bouncing off the walls” with her high energy and neigh eternal optimism. It was also a joke referencing a typically undesirable outcome for archery, which was a strong interest for her. Upon her parents’ death, she took the first letter of each of their names, Yuri and Quentin, and misspelled her existing nickname to create her mercenary call sign; she kept the pronunciation for those who might wonder.

She matured a bit with the weight of running a mercenary guild, but still maintains much of her high energy and enthusiasm of her younger years.

Were I ever to get around to commissioning a picture of her, I would likely describe her general appearance as manga-version Nico for her stature, hair color and hair style, but with Setsuna’s face and eye color. Her outfits generally consist of dark purple and white, as those are her favorite colors.

Yozakura, real name Hakume Yaiba, (given name first for the sake of consistency) was hired by Ryqo’s parents as a bodyguard. As part of the payment, she was to be trained by Yuri, Ryqo’s mother, in the ways of the assassin.

She is the type of girl who takes her duties extremely seriously, to the point that after Yuri was killed and obviously could no longer fulfill her end of the contract, she insisted on renegotiation so as to continue to protect Ryqo. There were probably other reasons affecting her judgement at the time, but she has loyally remained by Ryqo’s side for years.

As for appearance, though younger than Ryqo, she is taller; think Maki and Nico. She wears her blonde hair long and takes pride in braiding it intricately and securing it with an ornate pin given to her by Ryqo years ago. Her standard ninja outfit is grey with pink highlights as they are her favorite colors. For covert operations where stealth and deniability are crucial, she would dye her hair and use the Shiftweave function of her clothes to change her outfit. She would also wear something to change her natural blue eyes to something different.

Nullsilver Luna, real name only known to a precious few, is a young elven girl adopted by the Bouteillevoix family and has thus taken the role of Ryqo’s younger sister, despite being decades older than her.

After one to many of her experiments exploded, causing too much collateral damage and injury, Luna was exiled from her ancestrial home and ended up wandering the human kingdoms for years. Upon adoption into the Bouteillevoix family, Quentin, the leader of the Roughnecks at the time, hired her to be their artificer.

Her inventions still occasionally blow up, but the Roughnecks have proven far more tolerant of this than the elves in her homeland. The fact that she can better weaponize the effect nowadays may play into things.

As for her appearance, as mentioned in the scene, her hair occasionally changed color, because reasons. Same for her eyes. She’s been exposed to so many wild magics and artifice through out her life that things are no longer normal for her, or stable. The only consistent part of her wardrobe is an oversized white coat with multiple pockets that she has effectively turned into a bag of holding. She cares little for color or style and will thus wear whatever else is handy.

Also, her personality is not all that unlike Rina, so it was an easy fit to chose her to be played by Rina.

Recipere, often shortened to Rx, real name Rachel Ira Xaviera is a cleric who joined the Roughnecks in hopes that working with them might regain her favor with her deity.

Rx is the sole survivor of a border town caught between two warring kingdoms. When one of the generals of one said kingdom found soldiers from his enemy being treated alongside his own, he ordered the town razed. She went on to gather others disillusioned with the war and proceeded to go on Roaring Rampage of Revenge (trope!) against the general. In doing so, she may have gone a bit overboard and lost her connection with her deity.

After some wandering, she came across a wounded Ryqo and Yoza who had just escaped the massacre that took the lives of Yuri and Quentin, and healed them with magics to which she had thought she had lost access. For reasons not entirely known to her, joining the Roughnecks has reinstated her standing with her deity and allowed her to be a cleric once again.

Rx wears her blonde hair short and neat, under a bandana or some other head covering. As her deity is that of the sun, she leans towards using yellow, gold and white in her outfits.

Lady Sanguine, real name Vivian Sexton, is a woman who was raised in a village of barbarians despite not belonging to any of their bloodlines. She is the child of the unlikely pairing of a healer and a necromancer, the former of whom gave her up to the village to keep her hidden and safe from the latter.

The traumatic experience of having to kill her fiance to protect the village from his betrayal caused something to split in her mind. Specifically, her bloodlust gained its own personality and voice within her mind and gave itself the name Sanguine. Sanguine is also responsible for Vivian’s barbarian rage.

Vivian left the village after the death of her fiance by her own hands and wandered for a while before coming across the Roughnecks. She joins the guild and earns the call sign Lady Sanguine because Ryqo thought it fit her. However, once Sanguine became known, most in the guild started using Vivian’s given name to reduce confusion over who was in charge at a given time.

Vivian has blood red hair and vivid green eyes. (yes, yes, totally original, I know.) As of version 3.5e, she wore blood red armor, but if I ever get around to translating her into 5e, that may change since the class now seems to get a bonus for forgoing armor.

So yeah, that’s about as short an intro as I can give for these women. I could easily write pages for each, but I started this whole post a bit later than intended and I’m rapidly running out of time to sleep. Anyway, thank you to anyone who’s actually read this far. But I should probably write at least a tiny bit about players and character assignments.

Yuu playing Ryqo was an easy choice. They’re both high energy cheerful genki girls. They both have dark hair that they keep in twintails, though Ryqo doesn’t dye her tips green. And as Ryqo is the leader of the guild and Yuu is the idol club president, that was yet another match.

Ayumu got Yoza as they are both childhood friends with their respective counterparts, Yuu and Ryqo. They do have a few personality differences, e.g. Yoza would probably be a better match with Maki, but she’s not playing this game. But they’re both diligent and loyal, so I think things will work out.

Rina was an easy fit for Luna. They’re both tinkerers with their world’s respective tech. They’re both emotionally challenged, so to speak, though I hadn’t considered emotively challenged for Luna; now I am.

With need of a tankier character for the group, I recruited Vivian and originally assigned her to Ai as I believed her energetic personality could keep up with a rowdy barbarian. And of course the punny name played a role in the decision as well, as did the fact that I already had Rina as a player.

Shizuku needed to be brought in because not only is she an aspiring actress, she expressed interest in playing a TTRPG hosted by Setsuna in Setsu’s bond story. The team needed a healer, so so got Rx. I figured any mismatch in personalities could be made up for by Shizu’s acting ability.

Then Shizu’s anime episode dropped. The inner dialogue between black and white resonated with me and the stuff I’d written between Sanguine and Vivian. I realized I needed to reassign things.

Thus, Shizu is now playing a barbarian with a split personality and Ai is playing the healer. I’m using the excuse that Ai takes pleasure in helping clubs succeed by filling whatever role is necessary, so to help this game she is taking up the mantle of healer to help ensure the game’s success.

And there we have it, probably the longest set of Author’s Notes I’ve ever written... deities help me if I ever do something like this in one sitting again.

#Tri-Arame

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hardyimagines · 6 years ago

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An Eternity

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Hey ! Are you taking requests? If so could you write an Alfie Solomon's imagine where they're actually childhood sweethearts and have always been together? Just general fluff between two lovers. 🖤 @peakysnacks

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Friday, January 20th

“Jesus, Alfie.. How many times do I have to tell you!” There was a sharpness in your words, an undertone of a warning he sensed. The desk you were perched up on was growing to be uncomfortable. Your legs were spread wide, feet propped up on his thighs as he resided between your own, seated in his chair. His lips were moving along the length of your inner thigh, scratchy beard scraping your sensitive flesh as he climbed higher and higher, eager to place those plump lips of his against your, he already knew, soaked core. The heels on the base of your shoe were growing to be quite painful as they sunk more firmly into his legs, so he let out a harsh growl before placing his hands on the backs of your calves. Yanking you forward and down, onto his lap, he moved his hands up and around to your hips. You were eye-level with him now.

“Tell me what, pet?” He carried the same tone you did. His mouth found your jaw, lazily kissing the length of it. His lips were creating a lengthy trail to your ear. A breathy hum of delight escaped your parted lips, fingers wrapping in the front of the man’s shirt in order to hold him in place.

“Not to bite my thigh.” You hissed out breathily before slowly wounding your arm around his shoulders. Clutching on to him as he neared your weak spot, your eyes grew droopier by the second, fluttering and fluttering until they closed completely. Arching into him the second his tongue slid over your earlobe, you bit your bottom lip.

“I was hungry.” He teased quietly. Your ankles rotated, legs swinging as they hung off of the sides of the seat. Leaning back sharply at his poor excuse, you lifted your hand to his throat in order to steady him.

“Hungry? I was giving you a perfectly fine meal. You don’t have to try and eat my thigh everytime I let those nasty lips of yours anywhere near me.” Laying your hands flat against his chest, you pat his pecks before rising. Feet planted on either side of his thighs on the wooden floor, you hunched over, hot breaths hitting his ear. “Now you’ll have to starve, Mr. Solomons.” Climbing off of him completely, you fixed the navy blue dress that embraced your form before moving around the table and collapsing in a chair parallel to him. The seat was comfortable and gave you a nice lounging place. Alfie stared at you in shock, mouth watering and stomach growling. He still had quite the appetite and the only thing he’d settle for was the space between your legs. His chair moaned out as he stood and the second he approached, you began to giggle.

Alfie Solomons. How did one put him in words?

Intimidating. Funny. Handsome. Mean. But sweet when he wants to be. Amazing in bed. Hairy. Cuddly. Possessive. Defensive. In love with power. Difficult. Disobedient.

His tongue ran along your slit slowly, taking his time to worship every part of you.

Giving. Patient.

He yanked your legs open before gripping your calves and guiding them around his head so he could delve deeper.

Maybe impatient.

A loud rumble of laughter escaped your lips as he suckled on the most sensitive space, the little bundle of nerves. You locked your hand in the back of his hair, tugging feverishly. You hated how ticklish you were, but it didn’t stop the man, currently feasting on you, in the slightest.

Faithful. Opinionated. Verbal.

You’d been dating him since you’d been in your 6th year of school. You could still remember the day little Alfie Solomons had approached you in the cafeteria lunch line, grabbed ahold of your hand, and asked if you’d be his girlfriend. Wouldn’t it be cute if that had lasted all this time?

Sharing juice boxes and sneaking kisses at recess. He was absolutely infatuated with you at such a young age. Ten years old was so young to fall in love, but he didn’t realize until he was sixteen. You were a little bit younger, but he wasn’t bothered by the fact. He turned into this clingy, obsessed, desperate teenage boy who tried his hardest to be sly, collected, discreet about his feelings, but he was so obvious. And you were so in love with him. Being younger made you curious. It made you interested. But being with someone whom you’d had a previous cute relationship with when you were just a little girl gave the whole situation some comedic relief.

Alfie was the kindest boy you’d ever met. He walked you to class. Walked you home. Took you to lunch. Bought you flowers. Took you on cute dates, gave you sweet kisses. He was very respectful when it came to you, so when the pair of you decided that you were going to love one another for eternity.. well, you hadn’t really complained.

Now here you were, legs draped over your husband’s shoulders, slouched crookedly in a chair as the man knelt on his knees, eating you as if you were a ripe piece of fruit, tender and juicy. And so very delicious. Your hands curled tighter in his brown locks. He was nearing forty now which meant he’d loved you for almost twenty years. Your eyes clamped shut. Oh, how he loved you. Life didn’t get better than this. Spending forever with your best friend by your side was a fairy tale. It was what you read about in story books, it wasn’t what people were lucky enough to actually experience.

“Mr. Solomons!” The loud shout belonged to none other than Ollie, Alfie’s right hand man. “Alfie!” The voice came again, growing to be increasingly louder. But Alfie didn’t stop what he was doing, not until your thighs quaked and your head tipped back, mouth hanging open in a silent cry. He wiped the moisture from his beard and swiftly fixed your dress before standing in front of you. Apart from his heavy breaths and your occasional trembling as you recovered from your orgasm, nothing was unusual. “Mr.. Solomons, sir, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Ollie spoke the second he threw the door open. “There’s a man here, Luca something.. says he’s here to speak about Tommy Shelby.” Ollie’s words shook, similar to his body — and yours. He was stood in front of Alfie with a quivering lip and a towel in his hands, wringing it nervously.

“Changretta.” Alfie stated simply before sending Ollie away with a wave of his hand. “Tell him I’ll meet him downstairs, yeah?” The lad in the door nodded once. Ollie bid you a brief good morning before twisting around and vanishing from the room. The sound of his footsteps racing down the flight of stairs could be heard as you and Alfie exchanged a silent look.

“Now what business could you possibly have with Luca Changretta?” You whispered breathily before pushing yourself up from your slouched position in the seat. Moaning out under your breath, you stood to smooth down your dress.

“Nothing that concerns you, is it, pet?” He pinched the sleeve of your dress before dragging you toward him. Your side pressed to his front. “You stay up here, stubborn lass, I’ll be right back, yeah?” His lips skimmed your temple before he nudged you toward his office chair. You obeyed simply because you knew better than to get involved with any of Alfie’s allies or enemies, it was never good for them to see how much the man loved you. Knowing a man’s weakness was like holding a gun to his head. You dropped down in the chair before laying your elbows on the arm rests, warm eyes gliding along his calm expression. He was never worried. Typically, he got what he want. And when he didn’t? Well.. he still managed to get something.

Alfie sent a quick wink your way before removing the spectacles from his face and instead allowing them to drape around his neck. He licked his lips before twisting around and heading out of the room. His boots were much louder than Ollie’s retreating ones had been. They were much more hollow and deep. Your fingertips lazily grazed the desk before sliding to the corner so you could mess with the lamp that sat, perched, on the corner of the table. Caressing the string absentmindedly, you twisted it around your finger before swiftly tugging it and turning the bright bulb on. You tugged again and it cut off. Again, and again, you repeated the lazy action, eyes glistening when the bulb would illuminate your face. Alfie usually took around an hour with these meetings of his so you’d busy yourself with fidgeting.

The tip of your finger slid south to the desk’s drawers. Hauling them open one by one, you rummaged through the contents. Unsurprised to find a disorganized clutter in the first drawer and a revolver in the second, you nudged the both of them shut with your palm before looking toward the tall vanity in the corner. Books, you could read. You could organize the clutter. Sort through paperwork. Sign his signature on documents he’d already approved of.

You stood from the chair and moved around the large desk to the window. Peering out of the thing, you stared down at the men below, hard at work. The machinery was relatively loud, lots of chirping and whirring. You scrunched your features up, nose wrinkled and brows furrowed as you watched. You didn’t have the best vision, so pulling strange faces was what it took in order to see clearly. Alfie wasn’t in the room you were peering in. He was probably further down the corridor, sat in a chair or on a barrel with his cane laid over his lap. You bit your bottom lip before leaning agaisnt the smudged window. You wondered silently how after years and years of loving this man, the feelings hadn’t faded. You’d never believed in true love as a child. Not until you’d hit your teens and the boy you were dating made you swoon unimaginably. You missed him already and he’d only been gone for a few minutes.

Pushing yourself off and away from the glass, you moved to the door so you could haul it open and head downstairs to converse with some of the men. Everyone knew you — and why wouldn’t they, you’d been here since the very beginning. They’d known you as long as they’d known Alfie and whenever the blokes had been introduced, you’d been stood tall at your husband’s side. ‘Off limits’ he’d told them all. They’d hardly looked at you during there first few months of work, but now they were friendly, kind, more than willing to associate with you as long as you initiated it.

You spent the next hour propping yourself up on tables, talking to whoever seemed to be the least amount of busy. The men doing the work tended to pause momentarily in order to hold conversation with you and you found it quite polite. You liked all the men here well enough. But Ollie, whiner he was, was your favorite. “Oh!” You excused yourself sweetly from a conversation you’d formed between three men. Wiggling past them, you raced after Alfie’s right-hand man. “Ollie.” In the nick of time, you’d gripped his elbow and lugged him back. He was about to go into the room Alfie was in. “Question.” You peered up at the tall lad.

Ollie shook his head. “I ain’t discussing Changretta with you. Alfie’ll have my head. He’s not in a good mood, Miss, Changretta’s really agitating him.” You narrowed your eyes before looking toward the door. Folding your arms slowly, you inhaled deeply. You took a step forward so you could at least call your husband out of the room to check in on him, but Ollie gripped your wrist and gently drew you back. “You can’t go in there. Really, ma’am, Alfie wants you as far away from Luca Changretta as possible. That man in there, he..” There was no time for Ollie to finish. The door beside the pair of you was yanked open and a heavily breathing Alfie stood in the doorway.

“Ollie.” He ground out before extending his arm. He snatched the papers from the boy — an inquisitive look in his eye as to why the boy was taking so long, but once he looked toward you, he realized. “Get upstairs.” He demanded rather loudly.. harshly, before beginning to move back into the room. You stepped around Ollie then and swiftly gripped the belly of Alfie’s shirt.

“I’m sorry?” You lifted a brow. Your eyes shimmered with disbelief. Surely he wasn’t talking to you in such a manner. Alfie stared down at you with a look that said ‘I don’t have time for this’, but he didn’t want to rile you up.

“Pet, please.” His hand found the crook of your hip, lazily tracing the silky fabric that hugged your form. “Go on up there and keep my seat warm for me, right, I’ll be up there in just a fucking second.” He was getting angry. You heard it in the harshness of his ‘f’. You eased your grip on his shirt before leaning up and stealing the softest kiss. It was apologetic for leaving the office, but also a way of telling him that he wasn’t off the hook for shouting at you the way he just had. You spun on your heel and made movement to leave, but the door opened wider and the man they’d been trying to keep you away from stood behind Alfie.

“Who’s this?” The new voice chimed in. It wasn’t deep like Alfie’s or husky like his either. It was rather unexpected — light. You peered up at him before pursing your lips and rudely twisting away. A clear indication you had no interest in speaking to him. Making your way away from the man and the introduction, your heels clacked noisily against the hard floor as you headed back toward the stairs. Every man in the distillery was looking toward Changretta, all guarded and ready to step forward if Alfie needed them. Alfie waved his arm, signaling them all to get back to their work before he looked to Changretta.

“She’s a bit off limits, mate. To talk about, you know, so we, yeah, can discuss whatever else it were about my good friend, Tommy Shelby, or you can be on your way, innit. You remember where it was, don’t you, the exit.” His thumb ushered over his shoulder and toward the door. Changretta snarled before setting his hand on Alfie’s back. Patting it, he turned around and headed back toward the man who’d been stood at his side the whole time.

“I think we’ve done all the talking we need, Mr. Solomons. Just need a verbal agreement from you now,” His brows twitched. “Do we have a deal?” The bloke inquired. Alfie narrowed his eyes in the slightest before settling back down on the barrel he’d made his seat earlier. He pulled a grimace, fingers twitching as they curled around his cane. He tsked lowly before adjusting himself. Tommy was right about Changretta.

“No negotiation, then?” Alfie rose from his place. “Ollie, see the lad out, yeah.” Ruffling his messy locks, he retreated from the room, tuning out Changretta’s shouts to be acknowledged. Alfie didn’t care. He was done talking. He passed Ollie with a quiet swear before he opened the door and made his way back through the distillery, pausing long enough to ensure that word got around to avoid Luca Changretta. He popped his back before he climbed the stairs, arms bent back and around him so he could push his thumbs into his spine. The delightful feeling made him capable of climbing the flight of steep steps without having to pause.

You were sat on the seat behind the desk, fingertips curled around one of the pens he had inside the cup holder. The tip smoothly slid along the paper on the surface as you lazily wrote out a variety of random words. Boredom had gotten the best of you. The door in the corner opened with a creak and when you looked toward the doorway to find the man you’d assumed entered, you lifted a brow. “He’s gone, then?” Alfie nodded once. You sensed the tension he felt — and not because of his stiff back. Standing from the seat, you laid the pen down and made your way over to him. Your hands lifted to his arms. “I won’t pry, but can you just tell me you’re safe.” He looked heavy. Like Luca Changretta had just tied an anchor around your husband’s shoulders. “Alfie?” You spoke quietly when he didn’t reply. It took him a few more moments, but when he registered that he was being spoken to, he pressed his lips together before letting them pop.

“Luca Changretta, yeah, he wants me to help him in the murdering of Tommy fucking Shelby.” Alfie peered down at you, waiting to see the inevitable shock cross your pretty features. It did. Your lips parted and your eyes widened.

“Thomas.. Shelby? Surely you said no?” The twitch of your upper lip told the man that if he hadn’t said no then he was in for a rude awakening.

“Course I didn’t give the fucker a verbal answer, did I, pet. Just walked out on him, right, the bloke knows, id never harm a mate of mine.” Alfie mumbled under his breath as he slipped past you. He moved toward the cabinet in the corner. Pinching the rusted handles, he tugged on the drawers and removed the bottle of whisky. You scoffed.

“Jesus, Alfie. I hope you know what you’re doing.. I mean, you hardly know this Changretta or what he’s capable of.” Setting your hands on your hips, your eyes trailed along his back, watching the muscles flex beneath the thin white shirt he wore as he poured himself a shot of the liquor.

“Right, then, have you fucking forgot who you’re married to, dove?” He turned around, small glass cradled in his fist as he faced you completely. “He’s more terrified of me, then I am of him, pet. Hes heard things, innit, from all the blokes who’ve had the pleasure of doing business with me.”

“As big and scary as you are, Mr. Solomons, I don’t think he’s going to feel too threatened. He wouldn’t have shown up at your workplace and..” Alfie gave you a dismissive look. He didn’t want to talk about this anymore. He heaved a loud sigh, one that silenced you from speaking any further.

“Right, you’re worrying, ain’t ya?” He tipped the drink back and swallowed it all in one gulp before discarding the glass on his desk. Moving toward you, his wide palms found the ones on your hips. Gently taking ahold of you, he pulled you in close. “You think lanky, little, Changretta is gonna hurt me?” The look in your eye told him he was right. “I’ve had a lot of enemies since I’ve been doing this, pet, right, and nobody’s even come close, have they?” Apart from a few bar brawls and drunken street fights, no. Your head shook. “That’s right, and nobody’s gonna come fucking knocking at our door to hurt me because I don’t fuck no one over, do I?” He sighed once more before leaning in and pressing his lips against your forehead.

“Alfie.” Your head tilted back so you could see him completely. “You just had a discussion with a man you just met about killing a man you’ve known for a few months, I think that classifies as ‘fucking someone over’. And Thomas doesn’t seem too forgiving..” Your hand lifted to his cheek, fingertips delicately tracing the length of his skin. “I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost you.” He straightened defensively at your words before slowly shaking his head.

“We’re not going down that road, pet, that’s enough. Right. I’m here, im fine. There’s not gonna be any fucking trouble, I swear it.” The hand you’d placed on his cheek had slid down to his neck and now resided there. Lazily caressing his heated skin, you took a deep breath before shrinking away from him. You’d believe what he said because it sounded so comforting. So believable. Whether or not it was true — you didn’t know, but it was nice to calm your scattered thoughts for the time being. You patted his forearm before moving to the corner to stand by the window. Propping it open in the slightest so some fresh air could waft through, you exhaled. “Lets head home, yeah?” The sound of the man lifting his coat from the back of his chair could be heard because of how heavy the fabric was. It was only mid-day, so you thought it was rather unusual for him to just decide to go home, but you didn’t complain. Alfie took your hand and tugged you away from the window and your body obediently went along with his.

—

Monday, January 23.

Trouble hasn’t come knocking and you knew if there was any to expect, it would’ve been here by now. The sun was low in the sky, very distant as it lowered itself down, down, down to hide behind the mountains. The rain was falling softly, a quiet pitter patter as it bounced off of the cement and rolled toward the sewers. The hot pot on the stove smelled delicious, steam escaping from the lid placed on top of the nearly fully-cooked meal. Alfie was sitting at the dinner table, newspaper in hand, opened fully. The corners kept folding so he’d jerk the thin paper back into place, blue eyes running along the pages with curiosity. The spectacles on his face kept falling from their rightful position, so he’d wrinkle his nose in a poor attempt to return them to their previous spot, but they wouldn’t budge — and when he settled for pushing them up with his pointer finger, they just slid back down two seconds later.

Opening the cabinet, you pulled out two bowls and filled each one with the hot soup. Pinching two ice cubes, you dropped them into the bowls and stirred the icy blocks around. Lifting the dishes from the counter, you carried the both of them to the table and set one down in front of Alfie before placing the other in front of your vacant chair. Cyril gobbled his food down noisily in the corner, chomping like he hadn’t eaten in months. You smiled fondly before grabbing the shakers of salt and pepper and then settling down at the man’s side. Your knee bumped his beneath the table before your warm palm slid to his leg. “Earth to Alfie?”

His eyes lifted to yours over the rim of the paper. He instantly closed the thing and rolled it up before shoving it beneath his thigh. “Sorry, pet,” He leaned in and kissed your cheek softly. “Thank you for the food.” The sound of his rings clinking against the silverware was a soft, regular occurance. He sunk his utensil into the bowl without hesitation, ready to devour the food in front of him, but you swiftly reached for his wrist and ceased his impatient movements.

“I swear I’m married to a child. Honey, you’re going to burn your tongue.” He always did. You lowered the spoon back down to his bowl and shook your head. “Stir the ice cube around, it’ll cool it down enough for you to eat it right away.” Alfie did so. He smiled lopsidedly in your direction before, with care this time, lifting another spoonful. He blew on it for extra measure before taking a bite. His stomach growled out in enjoyment, instantly begging for more and he hadn’t even swallowed the first bite yet, he was letting his tongue absorb the taste, savoring it because he knew he’d finish it in minutes.

The pair of you sat in the kitchen for a while, making small conversation as you ate. He was exhausted from the long day at work and you were the same. You helped out, basically working as his assistant but he’d never label you such a thing seeing as between the two of you, you were in charge.

The sun was gone now. The sky was dark. The pair of you had eventually made your way to the living room to curl up on the sofa and rest. Alfie still had his newspaper and you had a full belly. The dishes in the kitchen were washed and put away, the floor was swept, and Cyril had been taken to use the restroom so your tasks for the night were done. It was time to just be. Your head was propped up against Alfie’s arm, eyes gliding along the pages of your book as the dying fire in the center of the room casted it’s dimming light on the pair of you. The soft crackling of the logs of wood was peaceful as you lost yourself in the fictional world you held in your hands. Alfie read something much more realistic, checking up on the real world. His hand resided on your leg, lazily tracing your warm flesh as he used his free hand to pinch the now folded paper. Before the pair of you had gotten too comfy, you’d gone upstairs to brush your teeth and change into a nightgown, but Alfie was still dressed for work. Trousers, boots, white shirt, vest, suspenders, chains, rings, the entire lot.

His finger ran from the smooth flesh of your knee all the way up and along your thigh until the pad of his thumb found the jagged space of your inner thigh where a rather large scar resided. It tore his attention away from the paper instantly, blue eyes narrowing toward the gash. He shifted, leaning forward to get a better view. How had he forgotten about the mark? He’d had his face buried between these very thighs not too long ago, but he supposed something as tender as a tongue wasn’t going to notice the difference in texture when moving so rapidly and hurriedly toward its destination. He was infatuated with the blemish. “Pet?” His voice was hoarse from not speaking for a while. Your ears twitched.

“Fire.” You whispered to him quietly. “It’s a burn, Alfie.” Adjusting your leg to discreetly try and brush his hand — and attention — away from the spot, you flipped the page of your book and tried to continue reading, but your focus was now on your husband.

“How’d I forget about it, then? When the fuck were you in a fire?” The blatant confusion on his face was enough to make you smile. He looked so innocent. Such a dangerous trait to have.. so deceiving for someone who didn’t know this man. Your lips pursed. Memorizing the page number, you shut the novel and set it to the side before moving closer to him.

“When I was fourteen. It was right before we started dating. Don’t you remember? The car fire?” Attempting to jog his memory was hard. He was horrible with memories. “I was driving home and the steering wheel jammed. I couldn’t turn.. when I crashed, I got wedged in and the fire started so suddenly.” You could tell he was straining his ears, listening so intently. “Just a sliver of the flame got me, when I eventually wiggled out.” Your eyes dropped to the scar, adjusting your leg so he could see it more clearly. His eyes lowered along with yours, scrutinizing the mark before he leaned forward further. His fingertips brushed along the tissue before he leaned in and kissed your lips softly.

“I can’t believe I don’t remember that, pet. And I can’t believe I’ve never fucking noticed it either.” Your eyes shifted back to your closed book.

“I thought you’d noticed.. maybe you just didn’t want to ask about it.” The flame in the pit died completely, leaving the pair of you in the dark. You wiggled closer to him, seeking the warmth and comfort that only he could offer.

“No, pet, definitely fucking not, yeah. I wouldnt be shy to ask my wife about a little mark.” His hand slid up to your chin, lazily beginning to caress it.

“Yeah. Well, it’s not the prettiest spot to have.” Rising from the cushion before he could register what you’d said, you moved to the fireplace and swiftly lit a match. Chucking it into the hole so the logs would ignite once more, you twisted around to find your husband with narrowed eyes and another look of confusion.

“Right, tell me if I’m wrong, pet, but are you saying that you, yeah, you think that spot makes you fucking ugly?” Alfie stood from the sofa and tossed his paper down on the coffee table. Stepping over Cyril who was fast asleep at the foot of the couch, he approached you with a look of disbelief. Words never worked with you, he’d learned that in the beginning. You stared up at him, suckling on your bottom lip because you knew he was about to lecture you over your comment. He’d call you beautiful, tell you that the gash was nothing to be ashamed of, and while you waited for him to say what you assumed he would, you shut your eyes for just a brief moment.

Alfie knelt down on the floor in front of you. His wide palm found the back of your thigh and his free hand slid to your calf. Turning your leg so that the scar was completely visible, he leaned in and pressed his lips against the permanent damage. His mouth was tender, slow, sweet and warm. Your eyes fluttered open in surprise, fingertips twitching before slowly moving to the top of his head. His kisses werent rushed. They didn’t move north in order to make this sexual. His fingers kneaded your skin delicately, mouth opening against your scar so he could whisper.

“I’nt a thing fucking wrong with this here beauty, pet.” His words were heavy, genuine, hot breaths drying the now wet scar. “Not a fucking thing.” You bit your bottom lip before slowly lowering yourself down in front of him. Looping your arms around his neck, you shuffled closer so it was your lips that now rested centimeters apart.

“I was so sad during that time, Alfie.. so drained and exhausted. I felt so alone.” Your fingertips traced the sides of his head, twisting lazily in his brown locks. “And then you showed up.. ready to wow me like you had when we were just kids.” Alfie’s lips curved upward slowly, hands moving to your sides. “Do you remember our first kiss?” The question was soft. Alfie almost hadn’t heard you. It was quite random seeing as it wasn’t relative to the previous topic, but he didn’t mind. He assumed you were done discussing the scar and he didn’t want to push and pry so he let it go.

“When I was ten or when I was sixteen?” He inquired. His body fell back so he could sit instead on his rear. He drew you forward and into his lap, arms wounding around you as he stared up at your features. Half of your face was glowing from the dancing flame and the other was casted in a dark shadow. His was the same.

“Sixteen.” You whispered before nibbling on your bottom lip. When he was ten and you were eight, he’d stolen offguard kisses — pecks, and you’d thought he was annoyingly cute.

Alfie’s lips curved upward. “No, remind me.”

—

1895.

The snow crunched noisily beneath your boots as you made your way down the dark, crowded streets. The trousers you wore, suggested by a family doctor, hid the bandage wrapped around your thigh, protecting your burn from infection. The top you wore was something your mother had helped you to create from an old dress you no longer wore and you actually found the outfit to be quiet cute. The heavy jacket, puffed out like a marshmallow, protected you from the merciless, icy winds, whipping your hair in this direction and that. Luckily you had curled it so even if it were messy, it would still look good.

The lights in the distant were a clear indication that that was your destination and the large banner that read ‘happy birthday’ was another sign you were getting closer and closer. You didn’t even know why you were attending this event, you hardly liked the birthday girl. But your mother had urged you to go, to get out of the house and be a teenager for once. So you’d listened after a lot of nagging.

The closer you got, the louder the music became. It was almost deafening. People raced by you to beat you to the entrance, party lights bordering the entry way. You entered with a shy expression plastered on your face, fingers brushing through your strands to do your best and blindly situate them. Everyone in the room cradled a drink and wore a drunken smile as they clumsily weaved past each other. Nobody here looked familiar and it was because they were all at least two years above you so you didn’t know what you’d end up doing. Internally, your brain told you to turn around and leave — go back home while you still could, you were going to wound up stood in a corner for the entirety of the night. You turned around to head for the door, but instead slammed into someone. Reeling back in surprise, your fingers caught on to your victim, apology instantly leaving your lips.

“Shit, sorry, I..” The clumsy excuse was seconds from fully escaping you. The lad in front of you was handsome. Dark hair, green eyes, sincere smile.

“Don’t worry about it. It isn’t the first time to happen tonight.” His words eased your embarrassment a little. The boy looked toward your coat briefly before shuffling his feet. “Do you want me to take that for you?” His smile was humorous, soft, very kind as he extended his arm. You nibbled on your bottom lip before pushing out all the anxiety and worry that swarmed you. Removing the coat, you handed it over to him gratefully before licking your lips. It was hard to hear him when he asked if you wanted to go get a drink, so when you didnt respond, he took your hand and led you to the kitchen. It was significantly quieter.

The boy’s name was Sailor. He was almost seventeen. He had visible freckles that were scattered along his cheeks, nose, and forehead. Green eyes, so easy to get lost in. A white-toothed smile. He was dressed down in a baggy shirt with some trousers and although the attire probably would’ve looked horrible on others, he could pull it off. The pair of you stood, leaning against parallel counters, conversing for what felt like forever. It was actually quite nice and you didn’t want anything to interrupt it — especially not the goon who came tumbling into the room.

Your head turned over your shoulder at the noisy bloke that stumbled in. Cup in hand and lopsided grin on his lips, the boy merely glanced toward Sailor before letting his eyes drop on you. Both of you scanned one another, curious to know why you looked so familiar. You realized why first, but when Alfie did, you were sure the whole house heard him.

“Y/N!” The cup in his hand fell to the counter at his side. “How the hell have you been?” The question was over-eager, voice too loud for his own good. He was definitely intoxicated, but his red, warm cheeks gave that away before his loud words.

“Good, Alfie.. I’ve been good.” Your smile was gentle, sweet, amused, concerned. He almost toppled over when he moved toward you. Half of you wondered if he was really this shitfaced or if his brain had merely convinced him he was because he was young, stupid, and drinking. You peered up at him before looking toward Sailor. The boys apparently knew each other because when they made eye contact, it was like a switch had been flipped and tension swarmed the room. Alfie wasn’t aware Sailor was talking to you at first, but now that he was, he felt instantly protective.

Sailor was a pretty boy. A charmer. A handsome fellow who knew exactly what to say and what to do to get any girl he wanted — and once he got them, he trashed them. Alfie narrowed his eyes before attempting to sober up. “You look good, yeah, great actually, fucking beautiful.” He grumbled out softly. Sailor sensed Alfie was trying to swoop in so he shook his head.

“Mate, come on, take yourself elsewhere. Y/n and I are having a nice conversation, don’t be a cunt.” Sailor placed his hand on Alfie’s back and made movement to usher him out of the room.

“Mate.” Alfie shoved the boy off. “I’ll have you know I’m technically still dating the lass. Every since we was ten.” He let out a low chortle before looking in your direction. “Never broke up with me, did you, pet?”

“It was insinuated.” You lifted your brows before laying your hand on the counter. Looking toward Sailor, you pulled your lips in. “He’s harmless, it’s fine.” Your fingers wrapped around Sailor’s gently before dragging him toward you so you could continue with your conversation. Alfie watched intently, a twinge of envy forming in his chest. He lifted his hand to the back of his head and scratched at his scalp.

“Pet?” Alfie cut in again. “Mind if I steal you for just a second. I just want to catch up.” Your eyes moved between Sailor’s, studying them before you bit your cheek. You didn’t blame Alfie for being persistent.. it had been a long time since you’d seen one another and Sailor was technically still a stranger.

“Okay, can you go find us a private space..” Your voice was too low for Alfie to hear. “And I’ll talk to him in the meantime?” Sailor folded his arms before giving you a short nod. He slipped past you without so much as a brush of the fingers or a smile. You turned around slowly, innocent eyes latching on to your very first boyfriend.

Alfie stood with a smug grin, fingers twitching before he shoved them into his pockets. He whistled lowly before stepping forward and toward you. “Look at you. All grown up now, ain’t ya?” His eyes fell to your trousers. “And wearing men’s pants.”

“They’re fashionable.” Your lips curved upwards. Eyeing the man under an unwavering stare, you studied him. He was very handsome. Far too handsome. Brown hair, floppy, long enough to brush your hands through. Dangerous, blue eyes, so luring and rather intoxicating. Plump lips with such a dashing smile. He had seemingly permanent lines on his forehead which only became deeper when he would smile.

“Yeah, pet, I think you’re probably the only female in the fucking world, right, who’s able to pull those ugly fuckers off.” He slunk toward you, finger lifting to trace one of the belt loops on your slacks. There was a moment of silence. “Where’d you run off to, hm? Haven’t seen you in what feels like forever, innit.”

“My mom had a job transfer.. I go where she goes, you know.” Staring up at him, your eyes flickered along his face, admiring him blatantly.

He grunted in understanding, finger continuing to lazily stroke the hem of your trousers. He swiftly hooked his finger in the loop and drew you in closer to him. “You couldve said goodbye, you know, right, you were my best friend.” Your hand lifted to his chest, pressing against it flatly to keep some amount of space between the two of you.

“Easy, Solomons.” You whispered. “I didn’t have the chance. I cried about it for a week if that makes you feel any better.” Distancing in the slightest, your hand dropped to his but only so you could gently brush his touch off. It was wrong to flirt with Sailor and then let this boy put his hands on you, wasn’t it?

“Slightly.” He chuckled, but your touch silenced him. He stuck his hand in his pocket once more. “What’re you doing standing around talking to Sailor? He’s a cunt, pet.” You pulled your lips in. “He’ll fuck anything that breathes and then leave it where he found it.”

“Mr. Solomons, I think you’re just jealous. That ten year old little boy is clawing at your heart right now, isn’t he?” Lifting your small hand to his chest, you traced a line along the length of his heart. “Tell him I said hello.” You turned around and moved to the door, but Alfie hurried after you.

“Pet, hang on, yeah, I’m just looking out for you. Talk to anyone here, alright. Do what you fucking want, but I don’t want to see you get hurt, and Sailor is going to do that, yeah, hurt you.” You inhaled deeply before looking back toward him. He knew Sailor better than you did. A roll of your eyes was enough confirmation for Alfie that he’d won. You moved back to the counter and set your arms on the surface. There was a lingering silence in the kitchen, one that was rather comfortable. But Alfie, as you figured he would, spoke up and broke it. “You look real pretty, you know? Didn’t expect you to grow up and look so.. like this.” He shyly shifted. You could tell he was struggling to flirt and that told you he didn’t do it very often. Sailor was forgotten in a span of just a few seconds.

“Did you think I’d be ugly?” You giggled out breathily before straightening. His head shook instantly, far quicker than you’d thought it would. He stepped closer, chest lifting with his intake of oxygen.

“No, just always expected you to look normal cute, not breathtaking.” Oh, he was good.

You stepped toward him then, fingers lifting to his chest. You just wanted to play with him, flirt with him, tease him like he was doing to you, but the hard muscles beneath the shirt made you lose the willpower to mess with him. Caressing the broad surface, your eyes moved between his own. “You don’t look too bad..” You smiled. “In fact, if I was as pumped full of alcohol as you, I’d probably have the courage to compliment you.” Your fingers trailed up to his jaw, lazily tracing the stubble poking out of his flesh. He smiled down at you before lifting his hand to your hip. He didn’t have any intentions of doing anything, he just wanted to protect you from the dicks he knew would come after you.

“Let’s pretend you’re drunk then.” He smirked. “I’ll take a compliment.” The giggle that left your lips was genuine. He’d put you on the spot and humor overrode embrassment.

“I’m not good with words, Alfie. You just.. You look really handsome. You- I didn’t expect you to be so good looking either. I mean, you were just a goofy boy I kissed because I thought you were dorky cute, but now you’re.. cute but also quite..” What was the word? “sexy?” You tried. Did that sound right leaving your lips? Apparently so, Alfie had gone red in the face. He flushed vibrantly before dragging you in closer to him. His eyes latched on to your own and his face neared. You gasped quietly before lifting your hand to his mouth.

“You’re joking.. right?” Another sharp giggle left your lips.

“What?” He straightened, visibly embarrassed that you’d stopped the kiss.

“You were going to kiss me just then!”

“No- no I wasn’t.” He attempted to pull a believable confused expression, but you could see it was fake.

“You were.” You smirked. “What’s the matter, Solomons, too shy to admit it?” His shoulders shrugged as if your words meant nothing. He could admit it, it just wasn’t the truth. “So you were just leaning in for what?” The air between the two of you was growing tense. Alfie just wanted to kiss you and the more you spoke about it, the stronger his urge became. And you, you wanted to kiss him now because all this talking about it was making you curious to kiss those big, plump, pink lips.

“For nothing.” He narrowed his eyes, tone growing to be a bit harsh, defensive. Your laughter was beginning to agitate him. It was too mocking.

“I didn’t know you still had a crush on me.” You teased, warm eyes watering from how much this situation tickled you. Alfie was growing frustrated. He felt like he was being taunted! He had no control over his automatic actions. His fingers curled around your hips and as if you were the weight of a rag doll, he lifted you, spun you around, and pressed you against the counter. His hand slid from your hip, along your side and up to your throat. He cradled your flesh delicately, hot breaths mingling with your own as he had an inner battle with himself. “Well, what are you waiting for?” You whispered hotly, breaths tickling his lips. His chest pressed to your own and his mouth didn’t hesitate in the slightest this time. He leaned in and pressed his mouth against yours, hand making its way from your jugular around to the back of your head.

Your mouths fought, both eager for the lead, dominance being tossed between the pair of you. Your arms wound around his broad shoulders, gripping on to him tightly — afraid he’d disappear. When you were ten, it was just pecks. A bird’s kiss. But this, oh, this was so much more passionate. Your tongue slid over his own, determined to taste him as much as you could. He was doing the same, practically devouring you. Little moans escaped your lips, mews, whimpers. Grunts fell from him, small sounds that made your ears twitch. His hips sunk forward, dipping so firmly against your own that you gasped out loudly at the surprising jolt of warmth and arousal that washed through you. Now that was a completely new feeling for you. “Alfie, I haven’t done that yet.”

—

“Alfie, I haven’t done that yet.” You finished the story off with a lazy grin. “You were going to try and screw me the first time you kissed me, cheeky bastard.” You stole a soft kiss from him before moving your mouth along his cheek and down south to his neck. Your kisses were chaste, sweet, just little actions of comfort, not anything that needed to lead to more.

“I was gentle with you, weren’t I?” He asked quietly. His body was heavy with warmth at the recollection of memories. And he did, very distinctly, remember you halting him when he tried to grind against you because you were a virgin. He remembered the tone of voice, the expression on your face. Your heavy pants, breathless from the kiss. He’d vowed in that moment to protect you from everyone. You’d be his and he made damn sure of it.

“Course you were, darling.” You hummed against his throat. “I don’t think anybody else would’ve been as careful with me.” Lifting your head so you could see him, your hands cupped his cheeks. “I hit the jackpot with you, Solomons.” Stealing another kiss before standing from his lap, you looked toward the fire that was dying again. Ensuring the flame vanished and the house wouldn’t catch on fire, you hunched over and grabbed ahold of your husband’s hand. “Come on, lets go to bed.. you can jog my memory over how you took my virginity.” Slapping his bum playfully when he stood, you hooked your arms around his waist and kissed the front of his chest. “Better yet, maybe you can show me.” Dragging yourself away from him, you raced toward the steps, bounding up them like a giddy child, mostly because you had to pee and wanted to do so before the man got his greedy hands on you. Alfie was hot on your heels, stomach flipping with happiness and smile gracing his lips. He was so in love with you, it worried him. How could two people be so utterly devoted to one another. The man followed you into the bathroom before slamming the door shut.

The empty streets were silent. Not a cricket chirped or a bird cawed for all the creatures were fast asleep, too exhausted to make a peep. But the couple, tucked away inside the bathroom, were too happy and giddy to be as sleepy as the surrounding occupants of the world. Giggles fell from your lips as you tried your best to keep him away so you could at least use the bathroom, but soon enough the house’s peaceful aura would be overridden by the loud noises escaping the bedroom — if the two of you could even make it there — and the thin walls meant the neighbors were sure to wake up. But none of that mattered, all that mattered was that the childhood sweethearts, wrapped around each other in a passionate embrace, were happy. And nothing would ever ruin that.

———————————————————————

A/N: HI IM REALLY PROUD OF THIS AND I LOVE THE WAY IT TURNED OUT!!!

Tagged: @peakblogbecauseimweak @bsotstory @mollybegger-blog @morphoportis @ghost-of-student-sufferings @drippydownes2002 @ellar21 @sovereigngoth @willowick13 @xxxxxeroxxxxx @wheresthewater @anrm1 @pansexualginger @marvelgirl7 @evilspretty-dead @heyitscam99 @wow-he-cute @haroldpain @justrepostandlove @sparklyreaderx @emerald-bijou @multireality @innerpaperexpertcloud @goodiesintheclosetlove @giftofdreams @ihclipse @meer0rauschen @inkedfandom @thatsamegirl @doct0rstrange @jakechillenhaal @shanty-lol @centerhabit @clevertheoristpainter @jamierdr @favouritereadings @badmaax @thephuonganh @wewillfindourwaythere @uhhhemilyrose @scarrasco1325 @matoki-darkpanda @bignastyfan-nz @97freaknik @captainbuckyboobear

#tom hardy x reader #tom hardy imagine #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons x reader #peaky blinders imagine

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candlefright · 5 years ago

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The Exorcist III

I have dreams of a rose, and falling down a long flight of steps...

The Exorcist was one of the films that haunted my childhood when I was years younger. Every Halloween without fail, this film would turn up in the DVD player somehow. Resurrected on stormy nights and called back from the other side when life gets a little too safe. William Blatty’s classic has the ability to creep into sacred spaces and pervert them with something unknown and hellacious.

At twenty-eight years of age, I am finally taking a step outside of that original, shocking experience- and stretching my clammy hands over what I have read is the more respectable sequel to the film, The Exorcist III.

The Exorcist II: The Heretic wasn’t written by William Blatty, but instead by John Boorman, whose filmography seems scattered amongst a plethora of genres; his most notable titles falling back into the early 60′s. While the original Exorcist and The Exorcist III both belong within the predictably magical hands of William. Although William Friedkin directed the original, harrowing film, William Blatty’s directorial talents show that he is not only a man who can write; but a man who has always known exactly how to execute his stories.

Please be advised that reading further will result in potential spoilers for the film listed in title: so if you haven’t seen The Exorcist III; come back when you have, or abandon all hope, ye who enter here...

The film begins authentically. You’re reintroduced to that spine-tingling theme and before you know it, a strange voice welcomes you back into the story by rehashing the death of Damien Karras, the original protagonist of the Exorcist story, who met an untimely end after having exorcised Reagan.

Lt. William F. Kinderman (played by actor George C. Scott) is our primary focus, now. The movie seems to orbit around the reemergence of a serial killer going by the name of Gemini, or at the very least, a copycat of said killer (which is what Lt. William is adamant to believe). What follows are a series of events that slowly draw Lt. Kinderman back into the presence of an unhinged Damien Karras, who is, of course, possessed by the evil spirit of the Gemini killer, James Venamun. When James, through Damien- demands to be seen for his “artful” work, Lt. Kinderman refuses, and of course, things escalate.

The beauty of this film is not surprising. Like the original, The Exorcist III is filled with beautiful, stylish shots. One of my favorite scenes, where Lt. Kinderman experiences his dream sequence, is full of beautifully framed metaphors and nuances.

Outside of the gorgeous cinematography, the story for this film is compelling and paced very well. You come to know Lt. Kinderman much better, I think, than you did in the original film (Kinderman played by Lee J. Cobb, who passed away in ‘76, just three years after its release.)

Lt. Kinderman presents as a stoic, intelligent, but hard-pressed man whose mercurial spurts of rage complement the thematic escalation of the story. You get the pleasure of watching a highly reasonable man flounder and stumble down the steps of madness, drawn by the candlelight flicker of vengeance as it rushes ahead of him, but is constantly roadblocked by his own denial. He is spurred on by the death of his good friend, Father Joseph Dyer (played by Ed Flanders), but repelled by the speculation that he may be up against more than a madman.

Where The Exorcist embraced the unknown and made it real by validating its existence from the start, The Exorcist III smolders with unsettling imagery and atmosphere; atmosphere the protagonist refuses to entertain, at first. You watch as Kinderman walks into darkly lit churches, his eternally speculative face teetering on the edge of disturbed before reason creeps back in through lesser roles (a girl showing up out of nowhere, questioning the state of the lights, only for them to flicker back on). As tension builds, you wait with bated breath and in the hopes that each new instance will be the event that shows Lt. Kinderman what you already know as the viewer: there be demons afoot.

Speaking of demons, let me introduce you to my favorite part of this entire movie: the Gemini Killer, James Venamun. Now, if you know One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, or Child’s Play, you know Brad Dourif. I was familiar with him as the voice of that tiny plastic freak in Child’s Play and as Billy Bibbit in OFOCN, however; this is by far his best performance I have ever seen. His portrayal of an unhinged maniac is fully showcased by beautifully unsettling monologues.

Damien Karras’ face fades into shadow and James Venamun splits the darkness with his darkly angelic face cutting like blades into Lt. Kinderman. I was genuinely chilled to my marrow during his first monologue, and found myself re-winding and going back just to catch more of the minute details in his behavior as he spoke.

Can you see it? Maybe not, but James’ perpetually tearful eyes sparkle in the dark while he speaks. You can see the fluid shake against his eyelids and threaten to spill over as his mouth twists petulantly over plights to be recognized for who he is. He cycles through an array of tonal shifts from cryptic laughter to booming rage, to high and sneering and belittling, all while pushing the restraint of Lt. Kinderman as he describes in great detail the death of one of his good friends. Watching Kinderman break to unload a heavy slap on his cheek peaks the tension and leaves you damn near shaking. I cannot praise this performance enough, I will be painting his name along the lobes of my grey matter for the rest of my journey.

This film, like the original, builds suspense by syncopating your thrills. You’re tied up in following Lt. Kinderman at his pace while he fouls up the pieces of the puzzle with his disbelief in the unknown. Important scenes are followed by brief interludes of equally tense and unpredictable moments that accentuate the slow deterioration of reason within the film.

One of my favorite scenes leaves you suspended for what feels like a century as you watch the main hallway of the hospital, lead into a false sense of respite before the fright comes back to remind you: there be demons afoot.

What makes the breaking scenes so great is their ability to cause discomfort without going too far and distracting from the real plot. Small ripples make huge waves that drench you in goosebumps and blast you with a cold wind. It really is the subtlety that makes the scares in this film that much more lethal.

Blatty directs the way he writes, by whispering rather than shouting. He draws you into the film with the details and uses shock as his red paintbrush. You lean in to hear Lt. Kinderman mutter his lines, you jump back when the silver corpse shears come out.

You don’t get to watch the entitled film without witnessing at least one attempted exorcism. A priest with a vow to avenge his whitened hair (not really but lol) stomps into the hospital to battle the Pazuzu-fueled Venamun/Karras with what you can expect are pretty laughable results. Watching that scene made me wanna scrape a burger off the grill.

The ending of the film rocks with the thunder of Scott’s venomous self-righteousness, thunder, and the rise of hell itself. I cannot tell you how absolutely horrifying this scene was to watch, you feel smote by light and mortified by the silhouettes rising out of it. As sacred as children tend to be in terms of horror, Blatty stomps you into submission by showing you that nothing is sacred in his realm.

This was a fantastic start to the beginning of this blog. I can’t guarantee that all of my posts moving forward will be as long, but this one just has so much to appreciate. This one is definitely going up there with the rest of my favorites.

Rating: 5/5

#horror #blogging #movies #exorcist #the exorcist 3 #fun

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jae-writes-fanfiction · 6 years ago

Text

Loki x f!Reader - 2412 words - Part 4 of 10

Warnings: none!

Notes: This is a longer story, new parts every Wednesday and Sunday, let me know what you think!

Summary: After her debut the Bastard Queen seeks refuge in her chambers, and is comforted by a mysterious gift. When she awakes, she is confronted with the unlikely reality of her alliance with Loki, and is determined to discover why he wants to aid her, and if that can be trusted.

Tags: @dragonrosegardens @kybaeza

Overwhelmed by plans you were not privy to, you hurriedly retreated to your bedroom. Quietly you undressed and let yourself soak in the bath for a while, trying in vain to clear the noises of your mind.

As your mind wandered you thought, but what if I don’t want to end the contract? My father can’t live forever perhaps it would be best to outlive the cunt...my hexes are typically reliable. Compared to a week ago, locked in your room unsure if you would live or join Jocelyn and your mother, this was much better. Loki seemed to be a different man than what you had heard, and you couldn’t deny how attractive he was. You knew your duty was for your kingdom and her people, but you felt defeated.

Sighing you rose from the bath, more confused than when you entered. It would be easy to quit but, your mother deserved a better legacy than a daughter who refused to fight for her homeland, for her people. Wasn’t that the entire point of being their queen, to protect them?

Returning to your bedroom, you noticed a new plush robe laid out on the bed. As you lifted it up, you were enveloped with the smells of the forest. Although you couldn’t see in the dark, you knew the fabric had been dyed a rich and dark hunter’s green. You pulled it on, and at long last pulled yourself into bed. Between the woodsy scent of the robe, and the cool breeze coming in from the balcony, you were lulled into a deep sleep.

You dreamed of Loki, the two of you walking barefoot in the forests of your childhood, stopping to note every blossoming memory. When you woke the next morning, you could almost feel the grass on your feet.

Halla was surprised to see you so relaxed and couldn’t hide her smile as she entered the room. You blushed lightly as she shot a questioning glance at your state of undress, prompting you to tie the mysterious robe closed. Had she been able to, Halla would’ve laughed at your faux modesty. As you stood to greet her, she pressed a small package into your hands.

The paper faded away with a flick of your wrist, revealing a note and a worn and delicate book.

I apologize for not being able to give you this in person, upon waking this morning Thor and I were called away on royal matters. I wished to leave you with some reassurance of my intentions.

The neatly scrawled note wasn’t signed, but as with most documents penned by a person with some magic, it held traces of it’s author. You were surprised to find Loki’s magick didn’t feel abrasive or maleficent, but curious. You sat down and opened the book, dropping it in shock as you glanced the first handwritten page. Halla stooped to retrieve the book, but upon glancing the page froze.

Desperately you grabbed it from the floor and ran your fingertips over the letters, feeling the familiar spark of magick. The book had been written by your mother, it’s leather binding showing her neat stitches as confirmation. The inscription read, “to my oldest and most dear friend, may this volume inspire magicks for you and your kin, forever yours -Rowena”.

You instructed the servants that you were still tired from the night’s festivities and wished to be left alone. You spent the day, sitting on your bed, surrounded with the smells of the forest, reading through the pages. Towards the center of the volume you found different magick traces in the marginalia. The languid looping script, belonged to Loki’s mother. Running your fingers over the notes, you felt her warmth. The responding notes, expanding on her ideas were certainly Loki’s, although it wasn’t as concentrated nor developed as the note he had sent you that morning, the magick was certainly his.

Towards sunset Halla brought you spiced mead and a little bread to tempt you from your focus. You nibbled lightly demonstrating a new spell, until Halla snatched the book away.

You started to reprimand her, stopping as she traced the rune for “why” into your palm. You grasped her hand in yours trying to sense what she wanted to say to you. All of her thoughts settled on wondering why. She was right, you didn’t know why this book or why now or why he was helping you at all. But you knew how to find out.

The next day you awoke early, determined to play the palace’s women at their own game. To loosen their tongues you dabbed peppermint oil behind your ears, and wore a dark tunic and leggings. You felt no matter what they’d have something to say and if that was the case, you could at least live as you liked.

You started at the servants’ quarters, where they were more than willing to talk on and on. Unfortunately, for the record, you already knew the rumors surrounding Loki’s fall from grace, and the heroism that restored him to his father’s favor. That was all anyone seemed to be sure of. Some women told you he was a wild brute of a man, driven mad with power. Others insisted he was some sort of deviant set to ruin his family’s good reputation. But mostly, you found they only knew he was not Thor; and little else mattered in comparison to the bulkier, happier brother. It was as if, instead of living as a prince Loki existed as a shadow content to live being despised as if he desired it.

The other women milling about were of no help. The few gathered outside gossiping and working at some sort of sewing or project, laughed at your questions. They could only recount more rumors of vague encounters, resigning instead to ask if you would join them in the sun, sketching or practicing whatever craft you enjoyed. They seemed sincere but, your craft was primarily writing, one best suited for solitude. None of them seemed bothered in the slightest with your admission and excuse.

Returning to your room you paced the floor lightly, contemplating seeking out the soldiers. Enough women were within their ranks that someone must’ve heard something, or seen something concrete in the sense of character. But even that felt like an unlikely source of information. Your options were dwindling, and you needed to know more if you were to believe his proposition as an ally.

You wandered onto your balcony, stretching your arms over the railing, letting the wind run over your skin. The little whispers caught along the gusts reminded you of the stories older women would tell when you were a child. Stories of the spirits that were so far from the goddess that they could only be heard on the wind.

Halla brought your evening meal as the sun was setting, pulling you back into your room. She moved as if possessed tying you up in blankets, terrified at how cold your skin had felt. You had stood on the balcony possibly for hours, not once feeling the cold covering your skin. You were comforted by Halla’s care and attempted to assure her of your health. In the end you promised to rest for the evening, and ate your meal followed by a very hot cup of tea.

Although there were no real whispers on the wind, the time in contemplation had given you an idea. Although the library was largely comprised of archives and noteworthy volumes- there should be some account of your betrothed either from a contemporary or in His late mother’s collections. It was worth a try, even if you found nothing, it would be a delightful place to relax and enjoy the quiet company of the tomes.

You waited until Halla returned to her own rooms to leave your’s. The library was lit by the soft glow of yellowed lamps, and became almost cozy once you lit a fire in the grand fireplace. You were tempted to choose a volume and curl up near the fire, losing yourself entirely to its contents. Yet the curiosity gnawing at your mind won out.

After an eternity of combing the racks, you found three books with some promise. One recounted the royal family, another a collection of the Allmother’s letters, and the last a record of the incidents surrounding the Allmother’s death, and her son’s subsequent redemption.

The latter you started but ultimately could not finish as each page hurt to turn, the memories of the Allmother and your Queen Mother too fresh in your mind. The history also resulted in little new information but did confirm some of the rumors regarding Loki’s escapade on Midgard. It was common knowledge he had been controlled by a much stronger force, yet it comforted you to see it written out.

The letters offered your best chance, filled with little things mother’s carried with them and shared slowly over time whether they knew or not. Halla eventually found you out, and unable to force you back to your room, brought you tea and a shrug to keep you warm. Had she not looked so concerned you might’ve laughed, the room was plenty warm enough. Time past and as footsteps approached you almost laughed, wondering what more Halla might’ve wanted with you. You were surprised to see Thor enter the room instead. He stopped short surprised at seeing you as well.

“My Lady, I hope I am not disturbing you,” he said.

“No worries,” you said smiling opting for a little white lie, “I felt restless and longed for a good book.”

Thor looked puzzled for a moment before deciding to speak plainly, “we’ve just returned and I had thought Lady Sif might be hiding away in here.”

You smiled lightly, “No, I haven’t the pleasure of meeting her yet, however I hear she speaks quite highly about you... and hardly anyone else.” Thor blushed lightly at being found out, and awkwardly mumbled a ‘goodnight’ before turning from the room.

As he left you quickly stood, needing to put away these books and retire. You’d read more than enough of the letters to have a good grasp of things, but desired time to think before being confronted. Unfortunately, you’d hardly moved to return the first volume when you sensed someone approaching from the hall.

You glanced about you quickly to see if any of those volumes might serve as a cover, only to find none that would make any sense in tandem with the others. No matter how slight, you knew Loki would notice the discrepancy. You entertained the idea of lying, acting as if you were about to retire, and those books were not yours. That you’d already sorted yours away and someone else had left the three volumes out.

As Loki entered the room, you resolved to tell the entire embarrassing truth if required. He was one man you could not fool with a simple lie. He was in an intense state of disarray, as if whatever matters they’d taken care of had turned violent. You couldn’t help but think, it wasn’t a bad look for him.

“Did you know your lady’s maid is quite concerned?” He started, chastising you.

You scoffed and leaned back on the table you had been standing in front of. Trying to string words together, surprised by his concern, “there’s no reason for Halla-“

“Are you sure? She sounded quite determined that you were freezing to death.”

“And do tell me, my Lord how she told you that? Unless you listened to her thoughts uninvited.” You spoke in jest, fully aware of how he heard you that second night thinking about his hair, and how he asked you to look at him during your debut.

Loki smirked instead of giving an answer, for the first time glancing at what you had been reading. The open pages held a letter he recognized immediately as being in his mother’s hand.

He stepped forward looking closer, “and pray tell pet, what subject have you been studying that’s brought you to my mother’s private things?”

You permitted a light blush to settle over your face, “the subject, my Lord? Naturally, you.” You shifted your gaze in a coquettish manner, away from his person.

“I had wondered what sort of man proposes treason as a wedding present,” you teased lightly snapping your eyes back to his.

Loki grinned and stepped closer, standing lax, his arms behind his back. “And tell me pet,” he said sardonically, “what sort of man am I?”

You were enjoying this too much. You raked your eyes over his lithe form under the guise of studying him. The darkness of his hair illuminated the deep green of his eyes, and although he was slim you could see the strength written in his muscles.

“You’re hardly a man. Not as I’ve known them.” You started, slowly walking around him as if you were an animal circling its prey. “There’s something more to you. Something much darker, smarter...stronger-“ You lightly dragged your fingertips over his back noticing the tension curled up like a spring in his shoulders.

Returning in front of him, you batted your eyes and produced a coy smile, “Tell me dear husband, is that the kind of man you are?” You tried to remain serious, but couldn’t as you saw the bewildered expression on his face. You laughed lightly, and relaxed back onto the desk covering your mouth.

“I’m sorry my Lord, in truth I was trying to find a reason why you would aid me but unfortunately, that-“ You gestured implicating your previous list, “-was all I truly discovered. You’re quite elusive.”

Loki scoffed lightly, unable to hide the smile that came to his face. Of course you knew all the stories of his past, his true heritage. But considering he bore witness to the public showings of your trauma, you elected to spare the rehashing of his. But you saw the reservation he still held, unsure if your acceptance was just another joke. If you were going to have any sort of a partnership, he needed to know: “I don’t care what you are,” you said lowly now unable to match his gaze with the weight of what you were saying, “I’ve no reservations about who you are or what you’ve done. How could I? You’ve been promised a bride, while all I can think of is war.”

For a moment there was perfect silence, no thoughts, no sounds- not even from the fireplace. But then- the air tensed like a storm preparing to break.

#thor #thor odinson #loki #Loki Laufeyson #loki x reader #loki/reader #thor movie #thor the dark world #avengers #mcu #fanfiction #multiple parts #heavy is the crown

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oneofyatosfollowers · 6 years ago

Text

They Had Masks For Faces

Fanfic: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13309462/1/They-Had-Masks-For-Faces

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19177903

The circular room was dimly lit by the fire place. It's red hue illuminated the different masks lining the walls and the animal-shaped furniture. At its center, a large throne with wolfish features held this world's dictator. The man had grown since his first appearance. His once light brown hair turned black and curled, the rough scowl he started showing at the sight of any 'misbehavior', and his nails- now broken and torn- knocked against the metal with restrained patience. The beast, 'Father' as he called himself, didn't turn away from the fire when the child first stepped in the room. The boy, a blonde fourteen year old wearing a green parka, stood shaking at the doorway with a brave face. On his left hung a satchel, filled with a blue-eyed black cat and three items of the dead. The door that connected both worlds, his only escape, was blocked by a closet.

"So...Yukine... you made it out alive." Father said, his voice much darker than the one he used to lore children. "And I see you let vermin into the home."

The wolf chair circled around to have them face each other. Father's once maroon eyes now glowed an angry red as he glared down at the cat Yukine carried with him. In fear and retaliation, the cat hissed at the man, growling even as Yukine shielded him from sight.

"This is Yaboku. My-my friend. I want him with me." Yukine couldn't meet Father's eyes, feeling like a child who just broke a snow globe on the carpet. His father had never looked at him in such a way. Sure, he was a bit of a moody teenager, but he never did anything to warrent such angry disappointment. Not for the first time, Yukine wished he cherished them better.

"Yes. Believe me, I'm fully aware who he is," the man drawled still staring at the cat in what looked to be confusion. "I'm just surprised he let you bring him back here. I found it impossible to be rid of him. But I suppose it makes sense, he surely knows who you are. Even if you don't know who he is."

Yukine's eyes met with the cat's. The stray that everyone says always seems to be around, but never seemed to have an owner. Yukine had found the feline sitting outside his window sill the past couple nights, there to cheer him up when he looked at pictures of the life he moved away from. His fur warm and his eyes comforting. And eyes the type of blue that shine in the dark, pressing him on, always there supporting him even when they're apart. Yukine shook his head and fiercely looked to meet Father's eyes. This man was not his dad. This wicked monster didn't even hold a candle him. Yukine was here to fix the mistake he made. To get his mom and dad back, and apologize for not heeding his dad's warning about going through the door.

Taking a breath Yukine demanded, "I want my paren-"

"You know I love you? Don't you Yukine?" Father stood, he face one of hurt, but his voice was smooth and playful. He stood and began walking towards the boy, the fire casting a shadow over his tattered black clothes. Yukine could do nothing but stand frozen in terror as Father leaned down and caressed his face, humming in amusement. When the red eyes bored into Yukine's amber ones, he was reminded of the Other Suzuha. His new neighbor's counterpart, created by Father to be without the heartbreak of his girlfriend moving away. Like every person in this world, a fake imitation, with matching maroon eyes. But this new friend was the one who took his hand and brought him to meet the 'improved' neighbors. Who laughed and joked with him in the carefree way the real Suzuha just couldn't. The boy who was forced to smile after trying to help.

"This isn't love." Yukine's voice shook, "This is hell."

Father stood straight in shock for a moment before laughing. Something under his clothes jingled as he began circling the blonde.

"Well, as much as I would love to keep chatting with you, we might as well get down to business. I already know you found three of my children."

"They aren't your kids. You stole them!"

"They wanted to come," Father's face was unreadable and his voice devoid of any emotion. "But I suppose they are what pushed my own child to escape." he murmured.

Yukine scowled at the nerve he had to call himself a father before digging into his bag, Yaboku moving out of the way. Yukine held to objects out, hovering over Father's open palm. As quick as he showed them, they were gone, and Father's hand snatched nothing but air. Father's eyes, flickered with hatred, quickly smoothed over to one of question.

"I'm not done." Yukine held the objects and bag tighter, Yaboku's tail flicking around as he gazed between the two. At this, Father laughed again.

"Ah yes, of course! You still have to find your old father and mother." He laughed harder.

For a split second, Yukine was worried he fed them to wolfs like he did to Suzuha, but that would be breaking his own rules.

"So? Where are they?" Father plopped himself back on the wolf throne, allowing Yukine to search the room. The child restrained himself from showing any sign of panic, quickly scanning the room for clues.

"I'll be impressed if you can find them! Especially since you won't have this." Father pulled a small red torii gate from his clothes. Something Yukine's mom made his dad when they were young and this was his childhood home. Something everyone in this god-forsaken house seemed to have. Something his dad gave to Yukine, to protect him while they moved back into his old orphanage. Yukine growled, that torii gate had helped him see the objects of the ghost children. His dad would be upset if he lost it.

Seemingly reading his mind, Father quirked an eyebrow then tossed the wood into the fire place. Yukine took a sharp intake of breath, whispering 'no' to himself as the demon fire devoured the gate with some difficulty. Father stood and gazed down at the object, a wicked smile stretching his face. In his hand, one of the ghost children's items seemed to move. Making sure Father was distracted, Yukine looked to see it was the ribbon that belonged to child known as Mizuchi. The forlorn expression carved into the mask she wore shimmered into view.

"You have to be clever, Yukine, brother told me you were. Father plays by rules that are twisted and bent. He'll win if you try to beat him fairly. He won't let you go." Mizuchi spoke in the wise voice of heartbreak. The one who gave her life to this side and spend her days with her adopted father and brother, helping to lore in children like her. Only later to be killed during escape. Now, a ghost girl with only a stray cat to keep her company. (Who she oddly also called 'brother'). Yukine nodded to her in silent thanks, putting the objects back under Yaboku in the bag. He glanced over at the small door that started it all.

"They're behind there!" Yukine proclaimed loudly, catching Father's attention. The man smiled, standing back at his full height.

"Are you sure about that, Kiddo?" Father drawled as he walked over.

"Yes. I'm sure." Yukine balled his fists up, done with this charade.

Father walked over to the small door, large smile never leaving his face. He pulled a long chain from under his clothes and up over his head. On the end dangled the key, the same one that sat innocently in the kitchen drawer with one eye engraved on it bow. With the flick of his hand, the large bird-like closet moved out of the way. Finally breaking eye contact, he turned to begin cutting the wallpaper away.

Yukine backed away, his breathing starting to pick up. Step one was completed, but now came step two. Without the torii gate, how was he supposed to find his parents? Just as tears began pricking his eyes, Yaboku began wriggling violently. Before Yukine could see what was wrong, Yaboku leaped from the bag and landed softly on the mantel of the fire place.

"Here." the cat growled under his breath, slitted pupils flickering at a long wine bottle with coins. When Yukine tried to return home without them, their hallway mirror had shown his parents, trapped behind glass as coins continually fell at their ankles. Having been in the bottle this entire time, the pile of coins was up to their chests. Yukine had to tear his gaze away when Father made a noise of triumph.

"There now, you see." Father looked back at Yukine, his eyes a blood red. The door opened slowly without help, it's creaking echoing around the room. "It seems you were mistaken, Yukine. I don't see anyone in here! I guess that means I win!" Father stepped lively toward the wall and plucked off a smooth white mask with the eye drawing on it. Yukine put his hands in front of him, eyes darting between the mask. Father's voice only rose in glee, "Once you put this on, you'll be mine for eternity!"

Yukine paniced and looked at Yaboku for help. The cat was frantically trying to push the bottle to Yukine, it tipping dangerously over the edge. Yukine jumped to catch it, saving his parents from falling to their death. Father caught on quick.

"You ungrateful- children should not lie to their parents! You will be punished!" Father roared in an inhuman voice, lunging at Yukine with mask in hand. Faster than he could think, Yukine shoved the bottle of coins in his bag and ripped Yaboku off the mantel.

"Take this!" Yukine yelled back, catapulting the yowling cat at the man's face.

Father cried out in pain as the black stray clawed at his eyes and throat, blood spraying the two of them. Yaboku attacked with a venenge, having told Yukine his hatred for the man and his mutts, even at the best of times. Yukine whispered a quiet apology before dashing to the open door, yanking the eye-key out of the hold. He dropped to his knees, getting his body inside before turning to lock it. Just in time for Father to fling Yaboku at the wall, the cat's body hitting the wallpaper with a thud before he scrambled to his paws with a hiss.

Father held his bleeding face, "Arg! You awful, awful brat! You'll be punished severely when I get my hands on you! Do you hear me!" His lips now pulled back from his teeth, he once again rushed at Yukine with a burst of speed.

Yukine's eyes rivaled a deer's in head lights, and in his fear, forgot what he was doing. Father's red eyes drew ever closer before his hands grabbed hold of the door, his massive frame ramming into the wall. Only then did Yukine snap out it, trying desperately to pry the monster's fingers off the slate of wood. Father growled, stretching his other hand into the portal as he tried to get his hands on the child. Yukine threw himself back, out of man's reach. In fury, Yukine brought his feet up and kicked Father back. Scrambling forward, Yukine grabbed the door and once again tried to bring it close, almost succeeding, till Father crammed his cracked nails through the frame. He cried out in desperation as he pulled the door back open inch by inch. Yukine grunted as his shoulders pulled forward, sweat dripping down his temple.

Suddenly, three pairs of hands ghosted out from his bag, each of them layering his own, adding strength. Together the children pulled and the door crunched Father's fingers, giving way as he yelled and pulled them out, before slamming shut again.

"Hold it!" Yukine commanded the ghosts and he struggled to put the key into the lock. Father threw his body against the wall again and again, the door shaking under his might. With a yell of triumph, the key entered the lock and turned it with a deep click. The hands disappeared and Yukine crawled as fast as he could through the tunnel, the door to his world up ahead.

"Come back! My son! I need you! Please! Come back!" Father wailed. The door drew closer each time his body hit the wall, each bang of a fist, and every scratch of his nails. All the while, his cries repeating like a broken record.

After what seemed like an eternity, Yukine crashed into the portal's end, hands working it open as the gateway grew smaller and smaller. He reached the door to his house- his real house- and threw it open. He leaped into the living room, moving quickly to grab the door and close it.

"Don't leave me! Don't leave me! My son-"

Father's cries were silenced when the lock was slid into place. Yukine's trembling hands placed flat against the door, slowly letting out the breath he seemingly held the entire time.

The wall made a massive boom, pushing Yukine back an inch. He looked at the door, air rushing in and out of his lungs so fast it made him light headed. Sitting up, he stared at the door for a while longer, as if Father was going to bust through at any time. But when he was met with silence, Yukine brought the bag onto his lap. It appeared much bigger now that it was missing a cat, the ghost children's items sitting dull in the corner. The bottle, Yukine noticed, was also missing. His heart leaped in his throat, first at the thought of his parents being trapped, then at the thought of having to return to the other world. He fell back on his hands, his finger tips touching cool metal. Yukine turned to see coins littering the floor. Shards of glass mixed in, a pile of it under the dusty fire place.

The old squeak of the front door echoed through the empty house.

"Yukine?" His mother's sweet voice called through the hall. "Yukine, we're home!"

His father's louder, more obnoxious, voice followed after, "Where you at, Kiddo?"

"Mom? Dad!" Yukine stood on his feet as the two walked into the entry way.

"Yukine? What-" His mother's voice was lost as their teenager ran and pulled them into a family hug. Both of them making noises of surprise.

"Your okay." Yukine mumbled into their chests.

His dad, ever the one for contact, laughed and hugged him tighter, "Missed us?" he teased.

His mom was a bit more receptive, "What's with the sudden hug? Is everything alright? Oh my god, there's glass on the floor!" the family turned to look at the mess his fight had made.

"Aww. My coin bank." His father pouted in that embarrassingly exaggerated way of his. Regardless, Yukine flinched and looked down and shame.

"I-I'm sorry." Yukine spoke to the ground. But his dad wasn't upset. He didn't shout, or throw things, or toss him behind a magic mirror. Instead he just smiled down at Yukine in that soft and bright way of his before ruffling his hair.

"Don't worry about it. Hiyori, can you grab me broom?" he asked. His mother nodded and continued her way down the hall. Yukine stood to look at his dad, really looked. His eyes really did rival that stray's, and his hair was ebony like the fur.

"Don't worry, you'll grow as handsome as me someday." His dad looked at him with a cat-like grin. Yukine blinked out of his haze and felt his face burn.

"Oh please, don't flatter yourself." Yukine's snark didn't have nearly as much bite as it used to. "You just remind me of my new friend that's all."

"A new friend? Hey, that's great! I'm glad you made another one."

"Yeah well, we actually might not be. I don't think he's very happy with me right now."

A beat of silence past as Yukine's worry for the feline ate away at his insides. He had spent a long time there, avoiding Father and his minions with ease, but...

"Im sure it's fine. You're a sweet kid. My kid! He'll come around." his dad patted him on the head again with a warm hand, then made his way back to the front door. "Besides, anyone would be angry if you picked them up and tossed them at their arch nemesis."

His old boots thudded down the front steps as his son stared open-mouthed at his back. Before a noise could present itself, his mother had reappeared.

"Wait, Yato? What about the broom?" she called.

"Just leave it there! I'm getting the rest of the groceries!" His dad responded.

Yukine dashed past his mom, ignoring her call of alarm. If Yukine was hearing right, his dad's voice was a smoother, deeper version of the Yaboku's. And while his dad spoke a lot of nonsense, what he just said hit far too close to home.

"Dad!" Yukine hopped down the steps just as Yato was hauling paper bags out of the back of the car. Yukine stopped just in front of him, still a bit out a breath. Before he could get a word out, a bag was hefted into his arms.

"Perfect. Take those inside, I'm cooking your favorite tonight! To make you feel more at home." Yato said with a smile.

Yukine furred his brows, wishing he could put his dad back in the bottle just to shake him around. His mouth opened in another attempt, only this time he was interrupted with a quiet meow. Both men turned to see a black cat appear out from behind a log. Its crystal blue eyes narrowed with annoyance, directed at Yukine. Yukine smiled sheepishly, waving his fingers at the stray. He felt his dad's eyes on him, a look he hasn't seen since he was small. The same blue eyes looked at him, then the cat, then back at him. Yukine forgot all of his prior questions, instead turning to face the cat.

"I'm sorry I threw you. Thank you for all your help." he said to an expecting face. Not hearing his dad ask for his thank you as he stuck his head back in the car. Yaboku blinked slowly, then strutted over to the car. Yukine struggled to put his bag down as Yato placed more bags on the ground next to Yukine's. The cat stopped not even a foot away, dropping to a crouch with a look like a hunter. For a second, the boy feared the cat was going to attack him as he did Father.

Instead, the cat sprung into the waiting arms of his dad, nuzzling his look-alike with more affection than he ever showed Yukine. Yato returned in kind, stroking the cat rhythmically.

Yato spoke, "You know, Hiyori wanted us to move here. Not me. I didn't expect to come back, ever." Yukine wasn't sure who his dad was talking to, but he refrained from interrupting. "But when she heard Tenjin was renting out the down stairs to adults only, and that Kofuku and her husband were living in the bottom, she insisted." Yato turned his eyes on his son, the cat mimicking near perfectly. "Of course, it took some convincing. It helped that you were my kid."

Yukine could only blink in response. His head starting to hurt trying to painfully piece together his dad's mysterious past. One his mom had said was something he didn't like to talk about. Kofuku, on the other hand, had a bit more to say. Apparently a bit older than Yato, she was in the orphanage when Yato had 'appeared out of nowhere' and 'randomly disappeared and reappeared'.

The cat meowed a bit softer this time. Butting his forehead to Yato's and closing his eyes. Yato closed his eyes as well. He spoke after a beat of quiet, his voice like a whisper.

"I see. So she was finally able to pass on." He sounded unbearably sad. Yukine's heart tugged, hoping his theory wasn't correct, but at the same time seeing that it was. The real Suzuha had mentioned his mother talking about Yato's missing sister.

"Good for her," he said as he finally let the cat down. Yaboku then moved to rub against Yukine's legs, purring. The heavy atmosphere was brightened by his mom appearing in the doorway.

"What's taking you two so long? You guys alright?" Hiyori asked, a worried expression crossing her face. She held the broom and a couple of band aids wrapping her fingers. She never really listened to Yato.

"Uh, yeah!" her husband called, a bit of a forced smile on his face. Him and Yukine took the bags and made their way back into the house, the cat having vanished in thin air. "Actually...I'm going to take Yukine to visit his aunt! Over by the old well, remember? Just till dinner time." At his mother's sad expression, Yato leaned down to peck her lips. "Unless you need help?"

Hiyori seemed to snap out of it. "No! No! I can handle things here. This is great. You should go. I thought I would have to convince you but, please." By the time she finished rambling, she had already gathered all the groceries into her arms, carrying it into the kitchen with ease. His dad laughed at the sight, love brightening his features. Normally, Yukine would gag but, right now, it filled him with a warm happiness.

His bag seemed to shift on his own again, having been forgotten.

"I, uh." Yukine hoped this didn't damper the mood too much. "I have her, uh, ribbon?" he drifted off at the end. Praying he didn't just make a wrong assumption. For a moment, the look that flashed across Yato's face looked too much like Father's, sorrow and anger. But the look he gave Yukine, was the soft, wise, lonely look of his sister.

"That'll be great. Thank you." Yato smiled and made his way back out the door. "And I'll make sure we ask your mother to make you a new torii gate."

That night, Yukine dreamt of golden ghost children and black cats that talked nonsense. As the creature that walked between worlds was curled in front of an old sakura tree, black tail wrapped around a rock tied with a red ribbon.

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