#I guess I’ll tag shadow since his face is right there
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If I don’t add eyelashes to a female character drawn outside of my manga-esque style, she immediately looks masculine to me
Exhibit A:
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/682bc0aae7ed79ef0c2d1ca109a05411/b1b79d15eeff933f-54/s540x810/f16cf5ae954690b3e066205f40bacb44d8095cef.jpg)
Exhibit B:
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/0902dc3052b06d0b34ce35449cc6e29a/b1b79d15eeff933f-f9/s540x810/573a315dd59e9deafdac90f88289df78a38c6e83.jpg)
Might actually go with this design for my genderbent Rouge lol. Both have had eyelashes added since but yeah
#sth#wip#rouge the bat#Sonic OC#I guess I’ll tag shadow since his face is right there#well part of it#shadow the hedgehog#I don’t always draw from the neck down so lashes are my shorthand way of denoting if a character is a girl long hair or not#and maybe some lip too
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i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 3
summary ;; Sullys stick together. You learn the hard way what happens when you don't. PART 2 | PART 4 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; descriptions of blood and violence incoming, beware! shout out to the ppl who predicted the stuff in this chapter LMAO so um... i couldnt tag everybody who asked when i said i would... there's apparently a limit to how many people you can tag. please forgive me 😭 im not taking any tagging requests anymore since i cant do it. so sorry about that,,,, seriously also, thank you so much for 1160 followers! i still cant fucking believe it... daddy issues solidarity 🤙🏻🤙🏻
“Hi there Corporal, you hear me? Yeah, I know you do. As much as I’m charmed by the fatherly love I could give you a big old sloppy wet kiss, we have unfinished business.”
Rain covered the rustling of clothes and the click-clacks of readjusted weapons as concentrated silence hung in the air, thick and heavy like the morning mist swallowing up the forest.
No answer.
What face could your parents be making right now? Heartbeat in your ears, you tried to hide your shame by looking down, but a jerk on your queue set you straight. the avatar holding you digging his gun sharper in your neck.
“What, cat got your tongue all of a sudden?” The leader’s stare found yours. “Let me give you a quick remedy.”
They’d linked your device into another for the sound to be relayed outside and the voice detection range could be wider, in other words, they wanted your father to hear what was happening to you. Your braid was yanked as if the one pulling it wanted to snap it right off your skull, no amount of training could stop the scream torn out of you — all the show just for him.
The line was deadly still, save for some rustling, crackling static that you could have easily mistaken for hissing.
A ghost of a smile shadowed the man’s face, he extended his rifle to tip your chin up. “Guess we’re gonna have to be louder than that to wake daddy up sweetheart.”
“Stop!” Father yelled, the unexpected timing of it made you jump. That earned him a group chuckle from the avatars around you. “Stop.”
He talked. He didn’t leave you to fend for yourself in this. Thank Eywa!
“That was fast,” the captor behind you said.
“Thought you’d have forgotten English by now, playing native.”
“...Quaritch?”
Quaritch. That awful, awful man from the stories your mother killed? Spider’s father? But… But he was dead. How could sky people know how to cheat death?
“In the flesh.”
Father’s voice wavered, you’d think he was scared if you didn’t know any better. “That’s impossible.”
“Back from the grave just for you, Jake.”
“Then I’ll just have to put you right back where you belong.”
The squad of avatars openly laughed at that, boisterous, confident, arrogant.
This was Toruk Makto they were openly mocking. None of them would last for one minute in front of him and yet—
“Quite the teary lovers reunion we’re havin’ here, but you got busy while I was gone, huh?” He looked down at you again, yellow eyes filled with mirth. “I have this tiny bird here we plucked right out of the air. Imagine my surprise to learn she’s yours. Is this the only one, or you got yourself a litter now?”
Silence again.
“What do you want?”
“Straight to the point as always.” The smug smile momentarily twitched into an unamused, withheld resentment. This man was nearing the end of his capacity to keep taunting. “I don’t think I’ll tell yet. You know I love to be a tease.”
Your ears rotated upwards in treacherous hope at your father's next words. “If you touch one hair on my daughter’s head I swear to god—”
“You exchanged your god for this shithole, Jake. Let’s not kid ourselves now.” Any hint of playing around was gone, now, eyes fixated on something on the ground ahead. “Your daughter will be my guest for a while. Think of it as summer vacation. Don’t worry, unlike the Na’vi, we’re very hospitable.” His thumb brushed over a button. “Until next time.”
“Fucking bastard—”
With one beep, the call was over. Quaritch was touching the band around his neck this time. “Iron Sky, Blue on Actual. We are standing by for extract, over.”
You began to tussle against the avatar behind your back. “No! No! Let me go!”
“Be advised. We're bringing in a high value prisoner.”
“Dad’s really gonna flay her alive this time, I can’t wait.” Lo’ak, positioned just behind the flap of the tent to not be seen from the outside as he peeked with one eyeball just in case, was watching his parents vehemently yell at each other in whispers that started out loud, but got hushed probably to not reach him and his siblings. Aggressive limb gestures were flying in the air, and at one point, his mom had tried to run off somewhere and was forcefully stopped.
Dad was currently pacing around like a wild animal with one hand permanently stuck rubbing his face, and mom turned away from him, holding her forehead. “They’re really going at it, huh?
Kiri was not amused with his insistence to breach their privacy. “What’s so interesting about watching this kind of thing?”
“Catharsis?” He remarked in English, feeling sophisticated. “You remember Spider talking about it? Purification and emotional cleansing through relief that you’re not going through the horrible tragedy, the character on stage is.”
“You’re normally so dumb.” Lo’ak bore his fangs at her matter-of-fact tone of voice. “Your brain only comes back on when it’s about chaos.”
“I’m petty, and what about it?” A tilt of his head to dare Kiri to ask for her point, then his attention was thwarted by an incomprehensible cry from his mother. She was pushing dad from his arms, furious like Lo’ak had never seen before as the upset man tried to hold her more. “Look at mom and dad breathing fire at each other! You think they’re discussing how to punish her?”
“Stop spying already skxawng, mom will be angry if she sees you. We’re supposed to be in bed.”
“Shut up, I’m trying to listen here!” His ears were tilting at every angle to make out any words that reached to him as nothing but a cluster of broken sounds. “Why did they have to go far?”
“Because they wanted to be away from peeping toms like you?”
“And you’re still here too, so?” Lo’ak gave his sister a meaningful look. “I know you wanna see too.”
“Ugh!” Kiri shoved out her tongue at him, eyes dead. “And it’s not funny, by the way! They are fighting. Stop being happy about it.”
He knew they were fighting about his older sister, and that she’d get all the heat and fallout from it the moment she was back. Lo’ak’s head was full of what he could get out of it, or what to ask her for in return for helping her out in her detention. So satisfying to be the sibling who wasn’t in trouble. He should do it more, actually. “It is funny when it’s not about me.”
“You’re sick for taking joy in another’s suffering.”
“Oh, I’m doomed, then.” Kiri took whatever fat was on his thin arm between her thumb and forefinger, and twisted. Lo’ak had to blink away the tears that rushed to his eyes, snatching his limb away from the displeased girl and pushing her away in return — he was annoyed at how much that hurt, why was that so damaging for no reason? “Yeouch! What the hell?”
“Will it kill you to practice mindfulness once in a while?”
He raised his voice’s pitch to mock the wobbly, ear-scratching whine of yours, and exaggerated his body movements to match, too. “I hate you!”
“Gross.” She tried to shove him, he caught her hands in the air, pushing her back and getting the spiteful annoyance of his sister as a result. “Dad was actually hurt by that.” Lo’ak’s eyes could roll down the hills by themselves the way that sounded, but Kiri, as always, was bothered so inexplicably. “I don’t like this. I have a bad feeling.”
That bad feeling was the herald of dad’s upcoming cranky ill-temper and what would follow after you inevitably had to come crawling back home with tail between your legs, Neteyam dragging you from the scruff of your neck. Lo’ak was refusing to sleep so he could enjoy the fight.
“Me personally, am over the moon, ikran duty is so gonna be off my hands. For months.” He halted at the idea that just went off in his head, tail swishing with the hype. “I wanna tell Spider. I’ll go get him.”
“Absolutely not. You sneak off now and they’ll laser-focus all the anger on you!” Kiri was pointing a warning hand at him, but slowly lowered it, one corner of her mouth twitching up. She was holding back amusement. “Hey, you know what? Nevermind, you can go. I want you to go. I have to see this.”
“Ha-ha.” Lo’ak’s tail stuttered, losing enthusiasm. “Attempted murder, much?”
“Guys, what’s going on…”
Upon the unexpected voice that wobbled its way into their conversation, they both looked down to see Tuk gripping her weaved blanket with one hand and dragging it on the floor as she made her way to them, the other rubbing her eyes one by one so sleep dripping from them would fly away.
“See, you woke her up! What do we do now?”
“You woke her up by yelling, why is it my fault now?”
“I didn’t, you—”
“Did too.”
“Did not.”
“Did too.”
“Did n—”
“Guys…” Tuk pulled on Kiri’s hand, and the foreign object she was clutching the whole time distracted Lo’ak. It must have dug into the older one’s skin that she carefully picked it up to inspect. The ear pieces they took off before they went to sleep. This one was Kiri’s. “Neteyam’s calling. You didn’t hear…”
Grinning, Lo’ak snatched it up and skipped backwards and put it in his own ear, ignoring Kiri’s hushed yells to give it back now and the groans about ruining it with his stinky, cheesy earwax. He had to keep bouncing around, the girl was chasing him around the tent. “Bro! Tell her she’s sooo dead. Dad’s literally keeping guard in front of the tent—”
“Lo’ak, quit it.” Neteyam’s tremulous answer was harsh. Lo’ak’s smile wavered as he dodged Kiri’s arm and jumped over discarded cups on the floor, knocking over wooden spoons. “I need you to tell me what’s happening over there.”
“Aw, baby’s so scared to come back she needs to make a game plan first?” He laughed, slapping Kiri’s hands away. “I’ll only tell if she gives back my karambit knife.”
His older brother sighed, a bit too exasperated.
“Yeah, I’m not letting that one go and I’m also making it your problem—”
“Lo’ak, she isn’t here.”
He stopped dead in his tracks. “What?”
“She isn’t here. I couldn’t find her.” Kiri bumped into him, unable to stop herself at the right time to hit the brakes due to how abruptly Lo’ak had stilled. They’d almost tumbled over. “Dad told me to wait until he contacts her and I’ve been waiting for minutes. Now tell me what’s going on over there.”
“Bro, you’re serious?”
“Why wouldn’t I be serious, skxawng!”
He turned to Kiri in disgusted discomfort, who had damn-near glued her own ear to his to hear better. “Forget months, I’ll be free for years. Dad’s not gonna let her take one step off the camp anymore.”
The girl would stomp her foot if she was a couple years younger. “What’s this about?”
And Neteyam would shake Lo’ak from the neck for ignoring him this long while he was fussing. “Tell me already you—!”
“They’re having a fight bro.” He leaned better to peep outside the tent. “Yeah.”
“She came back? Why didn’t you tell me?”
It was uncommon for Neteyam to completely disregard the previous input he’d been given. Lo’ak didn’t understand this level of anxiety. “Are you having a brain fart? Would we be having this conversation if she was here? It’s mom and dad who are fighting.”
It wasn’t that serious — on the contrary, his sister was quite simple to understand. She didn’t want to be found and had changed her place of hiding. End of story. The golden boy’s worrywart nature was keeping him from reasoning.
“Don’t be a smartass.” Lo’ak practically felt Neteyam’s want to land a loud smack on his back. “Were they only able to reach her, then? Is that why they’re fighting?”
“You’re asking me?—”
The older boy began to grumble under his breath. “This is why I called Kiri.”
Said girl’s ears perked up over picking her name from the static-surrounded line. Lo’ak snorted. “Ouch, bro.”
Kiri shook him from the elbow. “Me? What about me?”
“Great title for your autobiography.”
Kiri raised her arms to give him a beating and Lo’ak was already bolting away from anywhere near her vicinity. The siblings didn’t even take notice of the line with Neteyam going dark as they focused on their own play-scuffle for a while.
Until Lo’ak bumped into someone.
It wasn’t Tuk.
Shoulders pulled into himself, he turned around torturously freaked out to find dad standing there like a ghost, his tactical vest packed to the brim and gun hanging from his back the way they wore their bows.
The blue of his skin had faded into an ashier tone, amber eyes wide and bloodshot, the veins on the normally put together Olo’eyktan’s forehead were bulging, even a socially clueless person would pick up something was seriously wrong. He commanded cold authority of the battlefield simply by the way he stood, immediately triggering Lo’ak into soldier mode.
He took a few steps back, chin hanging low at the lightless, unblinking stare his father pushed down on him. “Sir.”
All the sleepiness that had Tuk unresponsive and nodding off through Lo’ak and Kiri’s push-and-pull was knocked out of her at the sight, she was now unnerved and frightened. “Dad?”
The man’s intensity was somehow eased by his youngest’s reaction, but he held back from taking her in his arms like he normally would to comfort her, didn’t even care to remark on how they were supposed to be sleeping — how they’d woken their little sister up, instead focusing on Lo’ak. “I want you all to listen well. Your mother and I are heading out for a minute and your grandmother will be with you soon — Neteyam is Oscar-Mike to come back here. Stay put and don’t go anywhere, understand?” His finger pointed accusingly at him. “Don’t cause trouble. Looking at you boy, what I’m saying here is Marine proof. I’m at the end of my wits here, don’t even think about slipping a tail out of this tent.”
The potent severity of whatever the hell was making him this agitated to the point of a voice so hoarse it was unrecognizable got the wheels in Lo’ak’s head whirring. “What’s happening, dad?”
“One child!” The thundering shout came down on him with the force of a falling mountain, making Lo’ak jump out of his skin. “I need one child of mine to listen to me without asking any questions today!” Dad’s voice broke when Tuk whined, he shut his eyes as if he was in physical pain, and flexed his jaw, shaking his head and pulling the girl in from her shoulders to soothe her. Still no direct hugging. “Jesus Christ.”
“I’m sorry sir,” Lo’ak said immediately, distraught by the over-the-top reaction, hands unknowingly curling into fists by his sides. Whenever that sky people word ‘Jesus’ slipped from dad not having any control between the border of his two languages, the boy knew it was demanding gravitas. “I heard you CFB.”
“Good.” He thinned his lips. “Kiri, please.”
Lo’ak frowned at dad basically asking for her to play her brother’s keeper in Neteyam’s absence in two simple words.
She nodded. “I know dad.”
He caught a glimpse of his mother running in the distance, her father’s bow in her hand.
Just what was happening? What had you done?
Eywa, it had to be sky people.
Dad saw the realization in his face. “Stay,” he emphasized, one final time before he was also gone with the wind.
Lo’ak wouldn’t have obeyed if it wasn’t for his grandmother arriving just in time, keeping them busy with a story about the arrival of a wounded ikran with no rider.
You realized the gunshot wound puncturing your upper abdomen was there the whole time when the avatars put first aid and later slapped a rectangular sky people bandage on it that helped clotting or whatever it was called, the pain simply not being there had played a big factor in it with the body running on pure adrenaline.
(Crouching close to you, Quaritch had bragged, “We aren’t so bad after all, huh, sweetheart? It’s called civilization. Your daddy ever taught you about that?”
Civilization, your ass. They needed you. There was nothing well-meaning about what they were doing.
And the nickname had ticked you off, sullying the good memories of father, your head slammed into his nose in full power after a hiss.
“Now my daddy taught me that!” you spat in English as other avatars had tackled you. The man claiming to be Quaritch was smiling as he wiped away the blood trickling down his nose.
What was the point in trying to patch you up if they were going to do this, then?)
You were now a part of an elaborate trap to lure your father in. Bait. The worst position to be in. This was the kind of trouble Lo’ak would get himself in. It was too late to go back now, the mess you’d gotten yourself into had made itself known.
Think, think! How could you get out of this?
Within the unsleeping forest’s nightly noises chirping all around you, a specific call in the air halted your train of thought.
It was mom.
Your parents were here. But how? How did they know where you were, exactly? Dread and expectation pooled in your heart, coexisting in a nauseating mix.
Father must be thinking that you already caused so much trouble, they couldn’t know you were also hurt, you’d never hear the end of it.
But there was no time to think, the pain you should have been feeling was ebbing its way into your body, and she was calling in the night to inform you to get ready.
All hell broke loose when the man who held you tight from your queue was shot right from the back of his head with an arrow, collapsing right on top of you.
You couldn’t get away in time to not be crushed by his dead body and promptly got squished between the mossy soil and him, his gun was hurting you, the wound on your stomach getting in the way of you using your core to push the body off.
How many minutes had passed with you struggling to get him off as a hurricane of bullets roared, you didn’t know (it hurt, pain was climbing towards the threshold) — mom was able to break free from the weight of a whole AMP suit, as you’d heard as a child, a Na’vi was naturally strong, but you couldn’t even crawl out. Panic was a rope tightening around your ribcage as your breathing picked up
All of a sudden, the weight was gone, and the only remaining thing from it was the big gun left from the avatar you found yourself hugging for dear life, eyes wide as saucers. Before you could see whoever had done that, you got hoisted up right back on your feet and tried to run, only to be held tighter and pulled behind the trunk of a tree.
“Hey, it’s me, it’s me!” Clumsy, overwrought hands were cupping your cheeks and — and oh, it was your father.
You didn’t know whether to be afraid or cry from happiness.
Once he was sure you registered it was him by staring intently in your eyes with that edge of the softness you’d missed so much, his hold shifted to your neck and around your shoulders, and he gave you a look-over, checking for any wounds. Too bad what he was searching for was behind the gun you were holding. “Are you hurt?” He shook you when you were too stunned to answer. “Are you hurt at all?”
“No,” you shook your head automatically, it was weak against the explosions of bullets raining down all around you, but father had picked it up regardless, only focusing on you for the moment.
In the darkness, nobody could see the blood running down your body, that bandage had come out at one point.
“On my mark, we’re gonna run, okay?” He nodded to you, tomahawk axe in hand coated in a dark substance, commanding your full attention. “Follow me. Ready? Ready?”
You weren’t ready at all, stomach feeling like it was being stabbed at every heartbeat, but you couldn’t tell him that.
Instead, you ran like hell, moored by father’s taut clutch on your forearm pulling you forward to match his incredible speed dodging roots, bushes and branches.
Things stopped moving only when you were enveloped in mom’s embrace, consciousness almost flying off from the relief that washed over you. Kisses were peppered along your hairline and forehead, her mumbling your name in gratitude blending with your panting. Tears burned bitter in your eyes, but you couldn’t cry, not when father was looking at you like that, chest rising and falling. You instantaneously remembered why you were holding that gun at the intensity he was radiating, tail escaping between your legs and letting mom hold you.
At least this way he wasn’t able to objurgate you.
Over her shoulder, you saw three ikrans instead of two. Heart soaring, you were skipping towards him in pure astonishment in a heartbeat. “Hey buddy!”
His head lowered down towards you in bird-like movements. In this angle, it looked like he was giving you a razor sharp-toothed big grin.
“He brought us here,” your mother said. The hand you were going to pet the ikran with stopped midway at her dejected tone. “You have passed Iknimaya, I take it. On your own.”
You didn’t know what to say, feeling immense guilt at having made her this disappointed over it. If this was any normal situation, any normal fight at all, you would have shot back with, ‘Well father told me to do it.’
But you were tired.
Your pain threshold was being threatened, and you needed to get to your grandmother before any of your parents saw the situation you were in and this escalated into the worst fight you were going to get into in your entire life.
Father’s only response was a dead cold, “C’mon, we gotta get outta here.”
He didn’t talk to you after that. Not one word.
Squatting on an ikran’s back on a flight with an abdominal gunshot wound you were trying to hide was not an option unless you wanted to pass out midair and was looking for a free dive, so you were all but hugging the poor thing’s neck like a monkey, trusting him to follow your parents while you concentrated on mentally fighting to level out the pain.
Nonsensical as it was to believe the gun stuck between your ikran’s neck and your stomach was acting as a tampon to lessen the bleeding, you were concerned with how dumb it must have looked to father and mom, how incompetent they must think of you that their daughter didn’t even know how to ride right.
Got an ikran for nothing.
Would they be less proud of you seeing how funny it appeared, nevermind that it was to contain your pain all the while not trying to faint?
But no words were exchanged about it.
Father clamping up right after he’d made sure you weren’t hurt (yikes) had resulted in this awkward trip succumbing in total silence. They had sandwiched you between them, only necessary space for the ikrans to beat their wings freely left, so close that you could discern the scariest look on father yet, deepening the lines of age in his face while simultaneously expressing his barely contained desire to kill someone.
A ticking time bomb.
Forget speaking at all, but not only did he never address you until now, he didn’t even look in your direction for once. You knew because staring at him for five minutes straight for him to just acknowledge your existence had proven to be unfruitful.
And the tears involuntarily streamed down your cheeks with how utterly worthless and alone that made you feel, trapped in this agony you couldn’t help but hide because he’d think you didn’t deserve to complain after bringing it upon yourself. You would rather bite your tongue and bear the pain than stay dreading his reaction.
Yeah, no, he couldn’t know.
Mom was looking over at you every one minute to make sure you were okay after her ears picked up on your sniffles, arrows of worry shot from her side sinking down your skin every single time, and you hated to make her this way.
Your ikran kept comforting you through tsaheylu until you landed.
Father had promptly jumped down, agile and making haste away somewhere, passing you by and giving the cold shoulder. You all but slid off your own ikran, managing to make the gun stay where it should be, as you couldn’t help but weakly call out to him for one drop of consolation. “Father…”
He didn’t stop for you, quickening his steps, but his ears twitched, the tail beating the air ferociously halting and lowering before it returned to the previous motions, and those were the only indications that he’d heard it Lima Charlie.
The man just didn’t want to talk to you.
And you had to make yourself believe it wasn’t the emotional devastation that had you falling down, but the wound sucking out all your energy now that you had gotten to safety.
“Ma’ite?” Mom rushed to you. “Ma’ite, what’s wrong? What is it?”
“I’m okay, mom, it’s okay.” You were sitting on the floor, cross-legged. Thank goodness you still had the unbreakable willpower (and not the fear of Eywa put into you by father) to hold your shit together. “I’m okay. Just tired. My knees buckled. Weak, you know?” You swallowed, smiling. “I’m just… Just resting.”
Her gaze full of concern studied you, zeroing in on the gun you clung on for dear life against your stomach. Her hands lovingly brushed your hair, gripped your shoulders and elbows even though you were disgustingly clammy all over. It was grounding, anchoring within the ocean of pain washing over you in waves.
“Oh, why are you sweating so much? You’re freezing.” You clutched the gun harder in a panic when she grasped it, most likely to put it away. It was the wrong reaction to have, but you weren’t exactly in the position to function healthily.
Mom, as any other person would, got suspicious from it, her eyes flying up to your owlish ones — blanked out like a frightened animal. “You’re fine now,” she whispered, thankfully attributing it to how disturbed you must be, still not out of survival mode. “You are safe, my daughter. Mom is here.” She cupped your cheek, but every touch to your body hurt now, even when it was away from the gaping wound, still gushing blood, trickling down your hips and getting you scared that it’d be discovered once you stood up. “I’m here.” She searched your soul to know just why you were grimacing at her attempts of comforting. “I will take this now, you do not need it anymore.”
You snapped out of the gradually darkening gray haze mom’s lulling was laying you down gingerly into. “No, please don’t,” your breathing hitched. She was going to see. She couldn’t see. You had to avoid this somehow, as long as you could. Grandmother’s tent. You would make it, you had to. “I’ll… I’ll just sit here for a while, okay? I need to just… take a small break, and then I’ll… Can you go back? I’ll follow later. Father is angry, I don’t—”
“Nonsense.” Incredulous and enraged suddenly about something you couldn’t put a finger on, and before you could stop her, she tried to haul you up with her by gripping your upper arms — colors exploded behind your eyelids, getting you you to lose consciousness for two seconds, your vision flooding back in a starry kaleidoscope. When mom’s voice reached your ears, it was in staccato exclaims your ears were ringing too much to discern. She was shaking you.
You weren’t able to sit up straight anymore, leaning forward — mom had caught you, utterly confused and panicked at the same time. And then your head was lying on the crook of her elbow resting on her legs she’d tucked under herself. The moment you’d switched from sitting to straight up lying down was missing from your memories.
A baby being cradled. Yes, this is exactly what it was like. Gentle arms surrounded you amidst the pulsating sea of agony.
Your body was letting go, but your arms were vices around the gun, still holding that last line. Don’t let go. Don’t let go. They can’t know. Father will be so mad if he learns. “‘m okay… ‘st restin’…”
When your eyes cleared enough for the surroundings to be only a bit blurry, your mom was looking at the hand she’d just tried to take away the gun with, caked with your blood that had stained it, out of it and perplexed like she didn’t want to believe it.
Her gut-wrenchingly stunned numbness sent the misery clawing its way inside into overdrive, pulling your consciousness down to the earth from the clouds it was ascending to. “Not mine,” you forced out, but it came out as begging. Everything was falling apart. The plan was so simple, why couldn’t you do anything right? “Not mine. Please. Mom, it’s okay.”
“No…” Mumbling, she started sharply swaying back and forth, and with one brutally vigorous attack, she ripped the gun away from your arms, and hurled it away — then it was over. Your sob wasn’t due to the motion hurting you, it was all entirely for the broken wail of your mother at seeing the bloodied mess, tears spilling from her eyes as she reached down to press down at the pouring liquid. “No! No! Oh Great Mother! Why did you hide this! Oh, my daughter!”
“No, mom, I’m fine, it’s nothing. Not my blood. Not my blood, okay?” You reached up weakly and wiped at her cheeks with trembling fingers, your heart got crushed worse than the pain could beat you down at her grief — lungs constricting. Where was all the air? “I’ll get up. I’ll go to grandmother, don’t cry. Just resting.”
Frantically looking around, she yelled, “Jake!—” but her voice didn’t quite come out, breathy as if she’d been punched in the ribcage seconds prior.
A heartbeat’s worth of nothingness, after which you were full-on freaking out. Only one thought: Father will be angry.
“No!” You shrieked, and blood swelled in one strong pump against mom’s fingers. She looked down at you in anguish, pupils blown wide, arm tightening around you as if you were a flailing bird. “Don’t tell him! Don’t tell father! He’ll really kill me for this—”
“No, no no no,” she shook her head, frenzied, tone cracked from beginning to end. “Do not say that. Don’t you ever say that—”
But you were struggling in her arms, wanting nothing but to crawl away into a hole, no reason registering whatsoever, only instinct. “He’ll be so angry,” you begged, pleading, pink spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth. The sound of gurgling accompanying the words you forced your whole body to form. “You can’t tell him — you can’t! He already hates me!”
The more you thrashed around and kicked your legs, the more you bled.
“Please, Great Mother!” The more mom lost her mind, hissing and howling hysterically, crazed, hugging you tighter and rocking. “Jake! Jake! Ma’Jake!” She put her temple against yours. “Not my daughter, please, Eywa…”
Why was she being like this? It wasn’t that serious! You were okay!
Delirium claimed you hot as she kept calling his name and her unbreakable hold on you kept you in a cage of a mother’s despair. In your feverish mind, a threat to your life was coming. Weakness spread like wildfire around your body and chipped away at the pain, slowly picking it apart to replace it with drowsiness. “Don’t call ‘im,” you continued to repeat, over and over again. “I’m just taking a break. Don’t call him over. He’s gonna be angry. He’ll hate me. He hates me. Please, mom.”
The sentences slurred together, shortened, wilted away pitifully, your voice died down, tongue deteriorating into only echoing, “He hates me.” A withered away, old flute.
Your ikran was bellowing in the distance and you looked. The torches on cave walls were illuminating him and finally revealing to you his beautiful color scheme.
And then your father was here, falling to his knees right beside you, his glistening wide eyes flying everywhere around your body — tracing all the blood, hands hovering above you as if he didn’t know where to start piecing a shattered vase back together.
It was over.
Fully expecting the chastising you were about to receive to shake the floating mountains so bad the enemy would be able to spot you, you began to apologize — pride be damned, this battle be lost, you’d failed anyway. “Please don’t be mad,” you shuddered, meek and unsteady, tunnel vision flickering at the edges only perceiving him. “It’s my fault—I’m sorry—please don’t be angry—”
“Stop talking,” he ordered, rough and harsh, eyebrows knitted tightly, and out of breath — probably because of how hard he was trying to hold the anger back. You knew. That had to be it. “Don’t speak.”
Ah of course. This was only natural when he had refused to utter a single word at you the whole way, denying you the temporary comfort of a simple glance.
Even the hand he pressed down so ruthlessly firm on your stomach it might as well be a boulder pinning you down was meant to be punishment, the whines your unbreathing lungs couldn’t stop turned into yowls — you hadn’t even noticed your hands were wrapped around father’s wrist in an effort to push him away, scratching him, but he only added his other hand on top of the other in return.
“Hang on, sweetheart, I got you, please hang on a little longer,” he pleaded, but you were already too far gone, Eywa was cruel to have plugged your ears to the endearment you’d been dying to hear from him for so long, making the last things you were aware father said to you the fact that he didn’t even want to hear you talking.
And you fulfilled his wish.
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#dad!jake x daughter!reader#dad!jake sully x reader#dad!jake sully x daughter!reader#jake sully x reader#jake sully x daughter!reader#sully family x reader#mom!neytiri x reader#neteyam x sister!reader#neytiri x daughter!reader#lo'ak x sister!reader#kiri x sister!reader#irma: 📝#📖: light
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Pitiful thing
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Dom!reader x sub!Raphael (reader is gender neutral)
Part two!
!Warning! dark content (this is going to be disgusting), a bit gore (ripping wings!), sadistic reader, spit, vomit, dacryphilia, beating, biting, stepping, stomping, kicking, piercing (Rara is getting rid of an old one), anal play, sounding, slapping, use of sex toys, blood
Word count: 7.3k (my longest one yet)
Nini!rant: repost until it shows up in the tag…!
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The accident which occurred during Christmas was long forgotten. For you it was a brief interaction, a short encounter and a meeting never meant to happen. It didn’t matter what happened to him, to that angel, because in the end what they did to you were worse. Maybe it wasn’t justified and you were being petty, since that angel in particular hasn’t done anything yet, but do you regret it? No. It was fun.
On the other hand, it left the other party pretty impressed, as if the event left a brand on him. That angel thought something was established between you two. A special treatment only he got, as if he became a higher being. It’s not that he caught feelings for you, it was for the act you did to him. Even though it’s a curse in disguise, since he is the sun that got attracted to the night.
Not even a month later that man came down to hell again, landing at the same spot as last time, searching for a certain someone. Just like playing catch, about him looking for that vivid dream he lived down here. How ironic, once was enough to get him hooked and addicted.
And destiny was playing a prank on you, unexpectedly bringing you two together again. Because as fate planned, you crossed that path on that specific day too. A huge dust cloud was spreading in front of you, hindering your sight. It took a while to make out the familiar shadow between the mist. You squint your eyes, no way he was back here again. However you weren’t displeased. Why should you get upset about something insignificant like this anyway.
“Someone out for revenge?” You remarked and leaned against one of the food stalls. The familiar figure turned around to face you, his bright blond hair appearing from behind the mist. “No, rather, I’m here to thank you.” He said, slowly his entire figure emerged from the dust. “That’s surprising, why so?” His words caught your attention, you didn’t expect it from him, an angel. “You helped me become a higher being, I guess it is curtesy that I show you my gratitude. So, I’ll give you permission to touch me.” Raphael said with a smug face. It’s unnecessary to mention that you were hella confused, what did he eat this time?
The angel also seemed a little confused now and added, “…shouldn’t you be grateful and happy?” Ah. So that’s what was going on in his head. “Hah, haha.” You giggled, and continued with, “become a higher being? Really? You angels are more arrogant than I thought.” Raphael didn’t let it get to him, all he did was muttering under his breath, “right, a human couldn’t possibly understand something as complex as this. Fine, I don’t care.” That’s what he said, but he did sound a little disappointed.
“Right… hey Raphael, just tell me if you want to fuck. I liked how you cried.” You were now the one with a smug face. Suddenly he grabbed your shoulder and shouted, “Don’t forget your place, you are just an insignificant creature, we angels are the only ones loved by god.” The grip was tight, it almost started to hurt, but you couldn’t stand how he tried to intimidate you, so you replied, “oh yea? And who is named gods only mistake?” That wasn’t smart, he had all reasons to kill you after all. But hopefully he won’t, after all you are the one that got him ‘closer’ to god. You are the only hint those annoying things have.
The Blondie seemed to struggle with making a decision, before giving up. “Damn it.” He sighed and pushed you away. “Woa, how friendly of you. Now I’m definitely not going to help you become a greater being.” “And what if I threaten to kill you?” “You can’t because you’ll still need me.” This wasn’t going anywhere, it’d be better to just separate. Right now all you two were doing was fighting like children.
“So what do I have to do to get you to help?” Raphael crossed his arms and acted coldly, still having that overly confident aura surrounding him. His halo with the little sun was also shining slightly, how it irked you. All angels were the same, overly confident, arrogant and a pain in the ass. Then something clicked in your head, even if their personalities are shitty, you were still able to have fun. “… actually, nothing, just don’t resist.” “What?” You didn’t explain yourself, instead walked closer to him, resulting in him backing up some steps too. “What are you-” “I told you not to resist.” Your hand reached out to him, holding him by his waist. “Ugh..!” He tensed up, you could tell he was hesitating on what to do, still looking for the best solution. But you ignored it, why should you care about his comfort anyway, he came to ask you to touch him after all.
The hand, which was on his hips moved to his back and groped his ass, while your other one started to cup his bulge. He pushed you away again, “You! How dare you do something like that!” “You said I got permission to do it.” “And? That’s why you aren’t going to warn me?” You rolled your eyes and turned around, about to go back to your home in hell. “If you don’t want to do it I won’t. I’ll be on my way now, what a waste of time.” “Wait!” He yelled again, with a half angry and half desperate tone. “I’ll do it, just- not here.” “Pff, everyone saw your body on Christmas anyway.” “Still, ugh, why are you so stubborn?!” “I’m leaving~” “alright alright!” Raphael hurriedly raised his shirt, biting the end of it to keep it raised, showing off his piercings. The two crosses on his chest waved, practically inviting you to touch them. A small smirk escaped you, “hah, so you can be a good boy after all.”
A few moments later you were touching him all over. He stood and kept his arms behind his back while you gave him a sloppy handjob. Hands wrapped around his shaft, pressing down slightly when reaching the tip and repeating the movements. Every time you did that he flinched, his shoulders jerked upwards and his piercings clanked against his skin. All those accessories on his body were cute, he was the definition of ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’. Not to mention his moans were adorable too, and how he blushed like a maiden fresh in love. Did he get more sensitive during that time span? At least that cock cage he once had was gone, guess he didn’t get a new one. “Hey, get on your knees.” “Hmmm?!?” He sounded like he was protesting, but you can’t hear so it doesn’t matter. In the end, he did just as you said, why would he go though the extra trouble to be a brat only to follow your comment anyway. After he got on his knees, he soiled his clean white pants with dirt, his cheeks got a bit redder too. Because he kneeled down, you couldn’t reach his crotch anymore, so you placed your hand on his chest instead.
Fumbling with his pink nipples, tugging on them carefully. Rolling your finger over them and groping his pecs. It was embarrassing for Raphael, it didn’t hurt nor felt especially good, it was humiliating. Every single part of this was shameful and he truly didn’t know what he was doing here. Though somehow, he still found pleasure in the pain you gave him, it was scary how much he enjoyed it.
His saliva drooled down his chin, all the way down to his white sweater. A wet spot could be seen and it kept getting bigger. His bangs were also sticking to his forehead due to the sweat covering his body, and not to mention how much he trembled. It was cute, you wanted more. You pulled at his piercings, enough for it to hurt slightly, watching as his buds stretched forwards. “Mhm-mmM!” The angel groaned, face blushing furiously while he clenched his teeth. Eyebrows furrowed and expression twisted into one of shame. If you didn’t know better you would have thought he was going to kill you any moment.
“I’m done, get up.” Just as how abrupt you started this play, you ended it too. That was so sudden, he couldn’t even process the information before your hands left his body. He let his shirt fall down and asked, “what? But…” then he bit his bottom lip, followed by standing up on his wobbly legs, unwillingly getting up from his spot. “fine, ugh..” the man in front of you looked like a mess, seriously, he couldn’t even stand without shaking. “You did pretty well, come back another time.” “..?? Why’s that?” “Don’t follow me.” You turned around and left, ignoring him as well as his questions. “Hey, hey! Come back- you, ugh, damn it!” That man’s frustrated screams were the last thing you heard.
Some time has passed since your second meeting with him. To be honest, you were surprised he actually listened to you and didn’t follow you. Nevertheless, that didn’t change much about your perception of him. You weren’t sure yourself why you left like that, however you were sure on one thing, it was a good decision to leave that day. He will come to you by himself sooner or later, and if destiny is still in your favour, everything will go just as you anticipated.
Today you were chilling outside a hotel. It feels nice being alone for a bit, or rather, not being in the presence of any clingy devils. You didn’t necessarily hate them, but you didn’t have hard feelings towards them neither. At first you thought it wouldn’t bother you that they all subconsciously thought you were Solomon, but it did start getting on your nerves. Also how they didn’t even want to accept the fact that you were someone else, not trying at all to adjust. They were also rather… controlling. It was hard enough to sneak out without Satan or sitri noticing.
Raphael didn’t have such a peaceful time like you, he was frustrated beyond repair. The first time you touched him he was at least able to finish, last time you left him with a raging boner. That must be the reason why he missed you so much, he wanted you to finish what you started. So when he finally found you, his heart skipped a beat. He immediately landed in the back alley of the hotel, quietly and carefully, as if one wrong move would cause you to run away.
You noticed him when he started to walk towards you, wondering when he got here. It’s the first time he didn’t make a mess as soon as he came down to hell. “You, you are free now aren’t you?” Raphael proclaimed, a stressed expression on his face. The past two weeks didn’t go well for him huh. “Yea, and?” “The thing you did last time, finish it.” You eyed him up and down, he could feel your sharp gaze on him, it made him almost uncomfortable. Once again he was making such a bold request. Oh well, you have some spare space in your schedule and playing with something else once in a while is healthy. “I’ll pretend I heard you say ‘please’, anyway, follow me.” “Where are you taking me?” “I thought you preferred doing it inside?” “I’m not a pervert like someone else after all.” How impolite he was, but you’ll excuse him for this once.
You greeted the reception as you got inside the hotel and walked straight to the elevator, Raphael followed you with hesitant steps before joining you. It was a bit awkward, especially for him since it’s an unfamiliar environment, you could see how he fumbled with his hand. Maybe he was wondering why none of the devils were suspicious of him, or if his presence really is that unnoticeable. It could have been something entirely unrelated too.
The two of you didn’t exchange a word while waiting, and it continued until both of you arrived at the vip room (a small advantage of being friendly with the kings) of the hotel. Afterwards you pulled out a room card and unlocked the door with a click sound, opening and entering it. “Close the door behind you.” You said, in case it wasn’t obvious enough. He did without much thought, and started looking around in the room. It was pretty and had a bathtub too, to be expected for vip. The bed was kingsized, it took up so much space but the room still looked huge.
You sat down on the bed, he stood in front of you. Then you commented, “you know, Raphael, you value yourself so much but how comes every time we meet it’s about intimacy? You are pretty desperate for an angel.” He didn’t show much of an expression, even so you could read his body language and saw his fist tightening. “It’s a bit ironic.” A small chuckle slipped from you after saying that, then you patted the space next to you, telling him to sit down. The angel obliged and walked over, when he got close enough you pulled him by the arm to force him to sit down.
Just like what happened a few days ago, you do what you want without any regards for him. Once he sat down, you pushed him again to make him lay flat on his back. He didn’t really resist since he knew he was stronger than you, and this time he wasn’t restricted by any weird powers. “Keep your hands above your head.” Another command, he debated silently whether he should keep playing obedient, but after seeing how you left last time… he really didn’t want to get worked up for nothing again. It’s always so thrilling and surprising when with you, because you do what you want and never tell him your plans. Though sometimes he thinks it’s better he doesn’t know.
Now that his arms were hold above him, you tied them together. Despite the fact that he has been good until now, you can never be sure about the future. “Hey, why are you tying me up again?” Raphael asked. “I didn’t tie you up during Christmas,” You clarified. “You know what I mean.” “I feel more comfortable like this, don’t want to?” Your eyes stared into his coldly, showing that you ain’t up for games. He wanted to protest further, however the thought of you leaving him like that was something he couldn’t make peace with. Not after all the efforts he went through to find you. He went quiet again until you were done binding him.
Next thing you did was pulling out the rather familiar ball gag, about to install it onto him again. The angel widened his eyes, were you planning to recreate the past with all those equipments or what? Did you pity the fact you couldn’t do more? When you brought the gag closer to his face, he reluctantly opened his mouth, letting you bind the straps around his head. After gaging him successfully, you pulled out a cutter knife, bringing it to his neck. His pupils shrunk, he glared at you menacingly. You dragged the knife along his neck, taking note of how his breath got more and more shallow with each passing second. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to kill you.” Yea, so reassuring, he feels so safe.
You grabbed his collar and pointed the sharp edge towards his shirt, afterwards you cut into his sweater. The knife was sharp enough to cut through the fairly thick fabric pretty easily. From the top to the bottom, until you split his clothes in two. He hold his breath the entire time, which was weird since normally he didn’t fear death nor wounds. A little blood was fine and he can take the pain, so why was he so nervous? It must be because of how stoic you were. You looked so chill and serious while you tore his clothes, keeping your attention on him and no one else. It’s the first time someone was focused on him like this, it was almost embarrassing, but he didn’t dislike it.
But you were thinking about how naive and cute he was, all you did was look at him for a few seconds and now his heart was pounding like crazy. It was way too easy to wrap him around your finger. Angels truly are useless and pitiful things. After you finished cutting through his clothes, you put the knife away. You only cut it in the middle, so that they were hanging from his shoulder like jackets. Since they were cut now, it revealed his bare torso. This is the third time that you’ve seen him in such a state. Those accessories he wore didn’t change one bit, still sparkling on their own. At this rate you were going to mesmerise every single one of them. Two vertical nipple piercings, two just below his chest, two on his navel which were connected by a chain, three belly button piercings and three rings a fairly large distance under his armpits on each side. He also had more, like two on his hips or some on his arms, but you weren’t entirely sure about it. Nevertheless you liked his piercings for many reasons.
This time you were better prepared for his sudden visit, so you had a whole bag full of stuff you wanted to try with him. The first one of those toys was a sounding rod, the same one he seemingly loved during Christmas Eve. Your hand made its way downwards and started rubbing against his bulge, gently caressing it until he got hard. Out of reflex he clenched his thighs, causing you to force them open to kept touching him. Small sounds of pleasure could be heard from him as he whimpered under the gag. “Mhm..mhm!” Those were only low grunts, you could see how he tired to keep his composure as long as possible. Next you pulled his pants down, revealing his semi erect dick. He was so eager it made you want to laugh, you didn’t even touch him that much but he still got hard. It was pathetic.
You took the metal rod and pointed the tip towards his slit before slowly inserting it. It hurt so much while you did it, it was unbearably painful. He wanted to move and clench his legs together again but you didn’t allow him, instead you said, “spread them wider, or I might pierce something I should’t.” With such a warning, he had no choice but to open them, reluctantly allowing you to play with him some more. His legs were trembling again as you forced the entire rod inside his urethra, tears started to build in his eyes. That was a bodily reaction to the sting and pain, since the metal wasn’t even wet when you shoved it inside him. “Hmm.. hgnG..” he yelped a little and jerked his hips, trusting forward. There was no helping it, it was so painful… yet why was he so aroused now?
After using that, you reached for another one of your toys, an egg vibrator. You strapped it against his tip, but didn’t turn it on yet. It was still the preparation process. Which is why you put one of the egg vibrator inside a condom, then pulled that over a dildo. This time you did reach for the lube, out of your own comfort, since the things you want to do will be harder without it. Squeezing some of that liquid onto the makeshift dick and pointing the tip against his entrance. The Blondie was on the verge of clenching his thighs together again, it took all his willpower not to. He was fearful of your treatment, however also thrilled. It’s like he loves and hates it, but most importantly he wants you to keep your attention on him. Don’t leave like last time, please don’t leave him alone.
While you were teasing his hole, you glanced at his figure. What he did was unbelievably adorable. How he made himself smaller by rolling into a ball, so helpless and vulnerable it got you acting on your desires. You did cover that toy with lube, but you didn’t prepare him. Instead you pushed and used your strength to force your way in again. “MhmMHH!!” Another scream. “Don’t be so tense, Raphael, it will only hurt more.” You gave him some advice, even though you were sure he knew himself. His chest raised and sunk, his breathing unsteady and eyes unfocused. Those almost emotionless eyes were half lidded and hidden by his bangs. This pulled your attention towards his bandages, especially that eye patch. You were going to rip it from his face one day.
His hands clenched around the rope you used to tie him up, legs wide open like he was some cheap whore and single drops of tears rolling down his face. The halo, which hasn’t been doing much until now, suddenly started to shine as if it was trying to distract you. You didn’t really mind at first, but the more you pushed that toy inside him, the more that ring of pure light shone. When the dildo fully penetrated him, his halo, that divine Symbole, was already illuminating the entire room. No need to say it blinded and annoyed you, leading to you hesitantly reached out to that thing. You touched it with the tip of your finger to make sure it wasn’t dangerous, before gripping it with your whole palm and yanking it off him. That wasn’t exactly hard to do, which kind of surprised you. You had an angels halo in your hand now… and it was still shining, which is why you threw it away.
Raphael’s expression was one of shock. Of course it would be that, no one ever ripped his halo off and he didn’t neither. It didn’t hurt, though it did feel like something disappeared from him, and his body got lighter. Well, all you did was throw it into another corner, so he can probably just pick it up later…right? Somehow, he was starting to get an unwell feeling about this, he was skeptical. He wanted to tell you how he felt about what you did or were doing, despite his wants he couldn’t, he couldn’t bring it over himself to tell you no. Besides this is nothing, he can bear it, all he had to do was to focus on you and pleasing you, then you’ll also keep your gaze on him. An eye for an eye right?
Everything was done now, your preparations were complete. You turned the vibrators on, directly skipping to the middle level. The eggs started to move and were rubbing against him. Even though he expected it made his shoulders jerk and dick twitch, it was still so sudden. One was placed on his tip and another deep inside him. “Hu-hmm…mhm.” Raphael panted. How amazing it felt at first, but the sensations and blood rush was becoming too much for him to handle. All you did was observe him for a few moments, then giving the relentless toys assaulting him a helping hand. Trusting the dildo in and out of him, other hand tugging at his piercings, mouth kissing his neck and eventually biting down. “NGhHnn… m-mhm..!” He sobbed a little when he felt your teeth sink into his skin. You bit hard enough to draw blood, and when you pulled back you were able to see the blood flowing down his shoulder to his collarbones and chest. The red fluid was giving a nice contrast to his smooth and pale skin, as if you were drawing on a white canvas. This was starting to stir something within you, out of impulse you used your finger to wipe the blood, then licking it clean with your tongue.
You bit him again and again, the area around his nipples, his other shoulder, his torso or abdomen. When you were done leaving bite or smooch marks on his upper body, you started kissing every of his wounds. Like his piercings or the ones you left on him. The vibe changed drastically, it felt soft and gentle in contrast to what you were doing earlier, making his heart pound faster. “Hmm…” a low content groan left him. What you did felt like it was forbidden to him, it felt like something two lovers would do. How he yearned for that, for any kind of love and touch this depraved man could get. At the same time he was so ashamed of his actions, how could- dare he enjoy the touch of someone who isn’t god? How could he even think about being in a relationship with anyone but god?
The vibrations were adding up with each other, especially the one on his tip. It was starting to hurt because of how sensitive he was. “Uhh..hu-ugh..” Once again he repressed his own feelings in order to keep you here with him. This however resulted in some squirming and trashing around to balance the pain. He rolled from one side to the other, irritating you a little. “Raphael, hold still.” You commanded, but he couldn’t listen, it’s like his body doesn’t want to follow him anymore. “MhHmm..! HmMm..” “Raphael.” You repeated his name, nothing happened. A silent minute passed, with his whines being the only thing that filled the room. Why was he acting up suddenly? Even though you tried to calm him down, he continued kicking around like he was riding the bike. Then you slapped him.
A loud sound erupted in the mists of complete silence, his face turned to the left side and an imprint of your hand started to show on his cheeks. “Uhh..!” He could still feel the sting of the moment you hit him, the aftermath also lingering for a few extra seconds. Eyes widened once again, a speechless expression featured on his face as he glanced at you. Another slap, this time his face turned to the right side. You haven’t uttered a single word yet, but you let out a deep breath. A few moments of silence again, now his eyes were completely hidden by his bangs, you couldn’t tell what he was looking at. What a coward, hiding his gaze like that, it was staring to get on your wrong side.
You punched his stomach, making the angel gag. It didn’t hurt that much, aside from the fact he felt like the food he ate was being forced out of him. For you though, it didn’t quench your anger, instead you were more annoyed now because the piercings he owned were in your way. You grabbed the chain and yanked on it hard, he yelled which was muffled by the gag again. “MhmmM!” You pulled on it again, now blood was dripping from where he pierced them. He moved his body, trying to escape before he froze on the spot. As if a hidden force was hindering him from just running away. And you tugged at it a third time, this time you managed to pull the entire chain off, running his piercing. “GaHHhh!! MHmMM!!” It hurt, it hurt so much and yet he still weren’t able to get on his feet. Was this some kind of trial god gave him?!?
A bit of his skin was stuck to the accessory, with that being said it got ripped off too. He was bleeding from his navel now, and that wasn’t exactly a small amount. It spilled down from all sides, turning his body and the bed red. “Uh-UhmM..!” A shudder ran down his spine at the sight of it, he was always covered in blood but never his own. His eye brows furrowed and pupils quivered, a small blush spread across his face. This was new, and arousing to some degree. It made him forget about the pain completely.
You took a look at the chain and threw it away, it looked disgusting all covered in blood and skin pieces. Also since the bed was red now you didn’t want to sit on it, instead standing up and stepping on his belly. “Huh, you are bleeding a lot more than I thought. It’s my first time I hurt someone to this degree.” Were you truly human? You said it’s your first time, but you looked so used to seeing blood, you didn’t even get nauseous from the look of it. He didn’t know what to do, all that happened was a deep blush forming on his cheeks, tears flowing down his face and blood storming through his new wounds.
You used more force to step on him, digging your shoe into his skin. The dirt which collected itself under your soles were now smeared onto his once beautiful skin. The imprint of your shoe looked nice on his helpless figure, just like the other marks you left on him. Then you started to raise your foot and stomp on him, enough for him to get the urge to vomit. “Ugh- ga-hghn…!” But the gag is in the way, if this continues he will just chock on his own vomit. He clenched his eyes, focusing on forcing it down. Of course that didn’t go unnoticed, you didn’t give him permission to close his eyes now did you? This led to you kicking the side of his head fairly gently, before stepping on his cheek. “Don’t pass out, I’m not done yet. The fun just began.” You smirked at him while you said that. A unsettling one at that, you could basically see the bad intention in it. Your expression just screamed ‘sadist’.
Finally you took the ball gag off him, he gasped and panted loudly. It didn’t take long for him to start chocking again due to you stomping on his stomach repeatedly. More tears spilled from him, his body wasn’t reacting well to your treatment. Why, was it because you were a human? He yanked on his binds, wanted to use his hand to cover his mouth. It was of no use, he was worn out now after such a long session. He couldn’t hold it back anymore and threw up all over himself. His entire figure was pulsating, lips quivering as he sobbed, then another round. This time it wasn’t just vomit but also blood. “Ah- urghh.. gahhh..” This was a huge burden on his body, making him nauseous and dizzy.
Your heart was beating fast, you wondered if sitri has located you yet with such a loud heartbeat. His pathetic face and posture was surprisingly beautiful, it felt so good watching him crumble underneath your feet. Rendering him powerless and dependent on your mercy felt great… how good would it feel if this was Gabriel instead who was suffering? The one responsible for your misery, to see him completely destroyed just like this. It sounded too delicious, so good you couldn’t keep a clear head anymore. You couldn’t help yourself! It’s his fault that he is an angel, it’s his fault he is of the same breed as Gabriel! You kicked him and kicked him again, bruising his body all while smiling with a content face. Swellings and dark spots were forming on that once flawless body. The more your view got blurred by red, the more you couldn’t separate him from your hatred. Oh well, you never claimed you were innocent anyway.
The beatings continued for some minutes, paired with random insults you wanted to throw at Gabriel. Looks like your anger got to your head. “Fucking whore, you think you are so much better than everyone else? You damn disgrace to your own race. God disappeared because of useless insects like you..!” Another kick, then you stomped on his chest, “fuck, I hate you Gabriel I hate you. It’s all your fault I’m like this, damn it.”
After calming down from your sudden outburst, you panted heavily. Now this was what you needed, a punching bag to vent your anger to. Your eyes fixated on him and only him, anything else didn’t matter anymore. Maybe you’ll get a complaint from the owner, but what are they gonna do, you were way more important than them.
Even though the ball gag wasn’t there anymore the angel beneath you didn’t scream a single time, the vibrators also weren’t turned off. All he did was gasp or whine while crying quietly. “Hic… hah..ha-haaa…” He didn’t cry due to the pain and torture, it was something else not even he understood. He smiled as he cried, watching you being so fixated on him you almost forgot to breath. His body looked like a war, or as if he tripped over paint with how many blue, purple or brown spots were spread on his skin. Not to mention all that red, even the tips of his once blond hair were dyed crimson now. The overwhelming smell of blood was filling your nostrils. Normally you weren’t a fan of that, however right now it didn’t bother you.
His wrists has bruises from the binds, his legs still twitched once in a while because of the toys and his stomach looked disturbing. As mentioned beforehand, bruises, bites and blood were present, also his vomit and cum made itself clear. There were other unidentified things mixed up in that toxic venom too, maybe some dirt and sweat. You didn’t care enough to try to figure it out though. It was damn disgusting how everything dripped down his body onto the mattress, and the smell was starting to get overwhelming. Not because of the blood but the other things. Nevertheless it felt good, knowing you’ll be the fall of him.
In the midst of this messy, unorganised situation, you hugged him. Currently unbothered by the fact that all the dirt and filth will get on your clothes too. You finally turned off the vibrators and took the toys out of him, an inaudible moan slipped from his lips as you did that. “Ah-..hng…” his wrists were bound together, but he was still able to move them, so he wrapped his arms around your neck. Raphael was holding onto you so tightly it was addictive. How would he react if you suddenly left like last time? Would he cry out in despair? Ah, that face must be really pretty…
He tried to hug you even tighter, probably using all his strength, despite that fact it felt like nothing. You really wore him out, enough for a seraphim to become this inexcusable disgrace. It must have been the stress building up inside you for the past few months, the stress of dealing with your harsh reality which led you to do such inhuman things to him. Who cares though, you were in hell already you can’t fall even deeper.
How he clung to you so desperately, how he whispered your name with that meek voice of his, it made you want to ruin him more. You cupped his cheeks, and pulled his eyepatch down. His hidden eye was a little bruised, maybe from a fight otherwise nothing special. How you wanted to pluck his eyeballs, they were so pretty after all. Raphael looked up at you with big eyes and shaky breath, as if he was expecting something. You kissed his forehead gently and slowly made your way over to his earlobes, now licking them with your tongue. The angel still had that pink blush covering his face as he enjoyed the first fluff moment he received since his creation, shuddering a tiny bit whenever you touched or caressed him. Then you whispered:
“you are so miserable it’s funny.” He didn’t have the strength to really answer you, so he just turned his head towards you. The confusion in his eyes were really noticeable. “Angels are so delusional and depraved, I have to hold back my laughter.” After saying that, you chuckled into his ear, “you’re such a crude and vulgar being, at this point I don’t even think you qualify as an angel. If there anything about you that says ‘graceful’ and ‘divine’? I think not judging by the state you are in.” You made sure to take little break between each sentence, so that he had time registering what you said. In the meantime you’d blow hot air against his ears. “Not even god wants you, you are a mistake, a flaw that shouldn’t exist.” He tensed up after hearing all that, shoulders now raised to his ears. You were clearly degrading him and making fun of him, so why was he so dazzled by your voice? As if you were hypnotising him, is there anything he could do in this situation?
“Don’t even try to hide it, you are unwanted. Isn’t it such an honour that I’m still willing to spend my precious time with you?” You said, still grinning from ear to ear. Then you used your fingers to force his eye open, whispering agin, “Hey, Raphael, you don’t deserve happiness. Please be unhappy a lot, so that I can be happy.”
“…what?” He seemed a bit confused, clearly finding it hard to come to terms with what you said. How could he anyway? He really didn’t want to believe your words, yet they sounded like a prayer, like a prophesy that was deciding over his fate. “You are all alone with no one to depend on. You are disposable and worthless. I’m the only one you have.” It felt like needled were poking at his heart, no, they were stabbing it. His head was empty, only the words you uttered were ringing in his ears. “Why don’t you come down to hell, heaven is too good for you. You don’t deserve that, just like how you don’t deserve your position.” Your voice was calm the entire time, though it somewhat drifted into being exited. Raphael thought about it and asked in a weak voice, “what is it you want me to do…?” “Your wings, I want them. Show me your wings.”
“…” silence. He didn’t hear anything. Then a beeping noise rang in his ears, unwilling to leave him alone. “Ah, ah.. ugh- ah, hah..haha…” he laughed. His body shook as he did. All he thought was, ‘god, what should I do?’ A wave of nausea washed over him, as if his brain was being cooked. “That’s sick, you know the wings are an angels pride? It’s a gift from our beloved god!” “Exactly, you don’t really deserve that now do you?” Ah… does he really have to answer that question? You knew the answer to it anyway. His heartbeat went faster, the urge to puke came back and he felt sick. He felt horrible, downright awful. It was becoming unbearable, that empty void he tried so hard to escape from, that he desperately tried to fill was eating him alive from the inside. He was so deep in thought so that saliva was running down his chin again, adding onto the turmoil.
You hugged him tighter, whispering in a low voice again, “poor thing, such a pitiful thing you are. It’s better to be at rock bottom than fighting for something you’ll never have. Even if god comes back he wouldn’t look at you, you are way too insignificant.” You caressed his cheeks again, showing him a comforting smile which hid your internal motives. “Shut up..” he trembled, “shut up, shut up, please, shut up… stop, stop it- please, stop, stop, stop it…!” He clawed at your shirt, making himself even smaller and curling into a ball.
It was too much. He doesn’t want this anymore. The best would be if he couldn’t feel and think, if he didn’t need to do anything. All he wanted now was to live comfortably, and the only comfort he could find was arching in pain by your hands, while being comforted by the same ones. You were filling that void inside him with poison, and he’d gladly eat every last drop.
Slowly he spread his wings, two pure white things appeared from his back and white feathers started flying around the room. He pressed his face into the crook of your neck, something he was never done with anyone before. Hah, he has never even hugged anyone until now. You reached for his wings, rubbing the base and wrapping your hand around his wing bones, the other one was stroking his hair. How did Michael rip those off so easily? Doesn’t matter, you don’t have to make it pretty. While Raphael clung to you like his life depended on it, you brushed your fingertips over his soft feathers. They really are too good for him, maybe you’ll try and get a clean cut to gift them to andrealphus. He’d love them.
Suddenly something snapped, you could feel it due to the shift of strength. He bit down on your shoulder even more, enough to leave a mark on you too. The most of his voice got muffled by your shoulder. His on the other hand convulsed and trembled. Ah.. it hurts, it hurts.. but it’s worth it, it’s worth it, that’s what he kept telling himself.
“Easier than expected.” You muttered under your breath. It was impossible to pull the entire wing and bones off, which is why you had to break the bones. Raphael was still clenching his teeth and bearing the pain while you started to work on the second one. At this point your hands were completely red, the feathers were also tainted red. More blood stormed out from the newly opened wound, it made everything even more chaotic and bloody than it already was. His shirt, which you cut open earlier, was also no longer white. He was covered in red from head to toes.
The second time went a bit better than the first, because now you had ‘experience’. It was fun. The sound of bone shattering and breaking, the feeling of flesh tearing from under your palms and seeing how much you could do with your own hands. A soft and gentle smile made itself apparent across your face. Raphael screamed in agony, crying, shaking and smiling as he did. He doesn’t even know why he is smiling. Has he finally lost his mind? It’s not a bad feeling, but it is confusing. Haha.
Now that you took everything from him he looked no different than a normal human. Or rather like a hurt animal depending on you. At the rate he was bleeding, he was going to bleed out, yet all you two did was hug each other for different reasons. Somehow both of you didn’t care, you only assured him with, ‘I’ll take you to lucifer’s hospital after this,’ as you kept fumbling with his now red hair. It’s the first time you ever got to enjoy yourself like this, you weren’t going to ever let him go now. Who knows, next time it might be Gabriel whose wings you are holding in your palms. After all, it’s not enough to just keep the bird in a cage, you need to break its wings and keep it shackled, only then it will truly belong to you.
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#sub character#sub!character#dom reader#dom!reader#whb#what in hell is bad#rara whb#whb raphael#sub raphael#sub whb
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Hello! How are you? I hope you're well :) I really love reading your work! I have a request, Aventurine x Reader.
(If this request is uncomfortable to you do ignore!)
Aventurine and reader are in an established relationship for almost 2 years, until one day readers disappear. Aventurine was wondering what went wrong that this could've happened, he hasn't given up searching for reader, this goes for 3 years looking for them. Aventurine also has changed as to who he is from before when he was with reader. Months later he saw them trying to break-in into a save that he kept for a project, what are they doing? But he wasn't sure if that was actually reader or shapeshifter trying to mess with his head.
Aventurine points a gun at the back of the reader and asks them to turn around or he'll pull the trigger, reader taunts him to do it. Here's where Aventurine knows that it's actually them since they never take a glance when they're taunting him. Aventurine then put the gun away, stepping forward, putting his hand on their shoulders still asking them to turn around in a more gentle tone this time, and so they did turn around leaving Aventurine shocked seeing their face.
Their left eye is blind as their right face has a burn scar. Aventurine gently put his hand on their face gently rubbing their cheeks with his thumb. Aventurine asked them where they had gone for the past 3 years, turns out they have been kidnapped and were attacked Which is why their eye and face were damaged. Reader then asked if they were still together or if Aventurine was already in a relationship with someone else. Aventurine was dumbfounded of course, what kind of nonsense are they talking about? Aventurine reassured them that they're still together, Aventurine could never be with someone else when reader is the only one that makes him feel alive. Readers also feel a bit insecure because of the damage on their face but Aventurine loves them regardless and he'll make sure that reader know how much he love them.
The only reason why readers try to break in to take the information is because they were forced too, reader tried to ask for help but couldn't because if they do, something bad will happen and they don't want that to happen. Aventurine was secretly trying to track them down of course, reader doesn't need to know that.
Untold Stories
Summary: After three years of relentless searching, Aventurine finally reunites with his long-lost lover, only to discover the scars—both physical and emotional—that they now bear. As they reveal the truth behind their disappearance, Aventurine reassures them of his unwavering love, vowing to protect them and bring their captors to justice.
Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Emotional Reunion, Angst with a Happy Ending, Protective Partner, Scars and Healing, Found Family Dynamics, Mystery and Intrigue.
Warnings: Mentions of Past Kidnapping and Violence, Survivor's guilt and Trauma, Descriptions of Scars and Physical Injuries, Emotional Vulnerability and Insecurity.
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The room was quiet save for the faint hum of machinery. Aventurine stood in the shadows, his eyes gleaming in the low light, focused on the figure hunched over his safe. Their movements were precise, desperate, and far too familiar. A cruel thought twisted in his mind—was this another enemy’s ploy, a mimic wearing a face he couldn’t forget? Or had fate finally let their paths cross again?
It had been three years. Three years of hunting, of second-guessing, of cursing himself for failing to protect the one person who could see beyond his mask. And now, here they were—or someone who wore their shape.
Aventurine stepped forward, drawing his sleek pistol in a single fluid motion. The cold barrel aimed squarely at the figure’s back. His voice, sharp and commanding, cut through the silence.
“Turn around,” he said, low and cold. “Or I’ll pull the trigger.”
The figure froze. Then, with a tone as razor-sharp as his own, they replied, “Do it, then.”
His breath hitched. That voice—it was them. He knew it. He didn’t need to see their face; the way they taunted him, unwavering, refusing to turn around… It was their tell. It always had been.
Aventurine lowered the gun slowly, his hands trembling despite himself. His mask slipped, replaced by raw vulnerability. “It’s you,” he breathed, stepping closer. “I know it’s you.”
He reached out, his hand hesitant as it landed on their shoulder. “Please,” his voice softened, almost breaking. “Turn around.”
When they did, it felt as though the world stopped turning. Their face was scarred, a burn marking the right side, their left eye milky and unseeing. But it was them—every fractured piece of them that he had yearned for.
“By the stars…” Aventurine whispered, his hand instinctively rising to their cheek. He traced the jagged lines of the scar with his thumb, his touch unbearably gentle, as though afraid they’d vanish if he pressed too hard.
“Where have you been?” His voice cracked with emotion he rarely allowed himself to feel. “Three years… I thought I lost you forever.”
They swallowed hard, struggling to maintain composure. “I was taken,” they said, their voice barely above a whisper. “They… they attacked me, Aventurine. This—” They gestured to their face, their blind eye. “This is what they did.”
His jaw tightened, a flicker of rage flashing in his eyes before softening again. “Who?” he asked, voice like a blade. “Who did this to you?”
“I can’t…” They looked away. “If I tell you, they’ll hurt someone else. I couldn’t risk it.”
“That’s why you were trying to break into my safe?” he asked. “You were being forced.”
They nodded, guilt etched into every line of their expression. “I didn’t have a choice. I—I tried to find a way to contact you, but they were watching me. I couldn’t let them hurt anyone else, not because of me.”
His hand slid down from their cheek to their hands, holding them tightly. “You should’ve known,” he said, his voice both tender and firm. “You should’ve known I’d find you. That I’d never stop looking.”
Tears welled in their eyes as they looked down at their intertwined hands. “I thought maybe… maybe you’d moved on. It’s been so long. I mean, look at me—”
“Don’t.” Aventurine’s voice was sharp now, brooking no argument. He cupped their face, forcing them to meet his gaze. “I could never move on. You’re the only one who ever made me feel alive, the only one who’s ever mattered. Nothing—nothing could ever change that.”
They let out a choked laugh, a mix of relief and disbelief. “Even now? Like this?”
“Especially now,” he said with conviction. He kissed their forehead softly, his hands trembling as he held them close. “You’re here. You’re alive. That’s all that matters to me.”
They leaned into his touch, letting the warmth of his words and presence melt away the years of fear and pain. But something still lingered in their expression—hesitation, doubt.
“I’ll protect you,” he said, as though sensing their thoughts. “Whatever mess you’re in, we’ll fix it together. But first, let me take care of whoever did this to you.”
They shook their head. “You can’t. It’s too dangerous.”
Aventurine smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “When have I ever played it safe?”
His mind was already working, strategizing, calculating. He wouldn’t let them know that he’d already begun tracking their captors, that he had leads and plans in motion. They didn’t need to bear the weight of his schemes—not when they’d carried so much alone.
“You’re staying with me,” he said, his tone leaving no room for debate. “No more running. No more hiding.”
They nodded, tears spilling down their cheeks as they finally let themselves believe it was over. Aventurine held them close, pressing a kiss to their hair.
“I love you,” he whispered. “Scars and all. Nothing will change that.”
And for the first time in years, they believed him.
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#x reader#honkai star rail#hsr#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#hsr aventurine#aventurine x reader#hsr aventurine x reader#aventurine x you#hurt/comfort#established relationship#angst with a happy ending#emotional reunion#protective partner#scars and healing#found family dynamics#mystery and intrigue
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In the shadows
Warnings: blood
That night wasn’t like any ordinary night. Not for them, but when they finally got to where Joel stood, they heard something moving around in the woods near the abandoned now flamed house. “Joel, I’m so sorry” they say as he turns to face them. The only reason why they tagged along was because he knew that they could help out. They weren’t a cop, but another detective. “We should stick together, because we both have the curse now” he says as he wraps a protective arm around them
“But I didn’t see Rose in the act like you did. But I’ll still stay by your side. Don’t worry” they reassured him. The rustling sound of bushes moving around in the woods was starting to worry them. “Will you meet me back at my place?” He asked them. “Yeah, of course! I’ll be right behind you” they say with a comforting smile. He turns to look at them, and smiles back. They weren’t too worried about him since they knew Joel would be able to get rid of the demon
His hand goes back to his side, and now he’s going to his car. They do the same thing. Once they were in his place, he goes over to sit down on his couch. They go over and sat down next to him. He does finally start to sob, which makes them hug him in comfort. They hated seeing him so sad, but they knew that would make him the next perfect victim for The Smiler. They begin to rub his back as his head found its way to their chest. He was now in their embrace as he sobs
He eventually had fallen asleep like this, which makes them continue to rub his back so he knew that they were here and not an illusion from the demon. Their arm was tired, and so were they, but they cared more about him than anything else in the world at the moment. He wakes up the following morning, and notices that they had fallen asleep holding him. They didn’t even know they had fallen asleep since it was so sudden
He doesn’t mind this, but he wanted them to be comfortable and not in this position. He easily gets out of their arms, and finds himself standing up now. He helps taking their shoes off, and then picks them up and brought them over to his bed to sleep there instead of the uncomfortable couch. He places them down gently, and then tucks them in. He smiles as he goes over to use his bathroom now to freshen up
When they woke up, they could smell coffee being made. They realized that they had fallen asleep instead of staying up. They felt bad for not staying up since they wanted to make sure that nothing bad happened to him. But they see him doing just fine with a cup of coffee in his hand. He notices that they were awake. “Was everything alright during the night?” They asked with worry written all over their face and tone
He notices, and then places his mug down. They sat up now as they watched him walk over to sit down on the side of his bed. “I don’t want you losing sleep over me, okay? I’ve got a plan, don’t worry” he says reassuringly, but they were still uncertain. “What if you get hurt? What if I can’t save you?” They asked as they started to tear up, which makes him quickly be by their side now
He hugs them immediately now. He’s rubbing their back now as a look of his own worry coats his face. “I’ll be fine. I promise” he reassured as he continues to rub their back to comfort them. “I’m not gonna let that demon take me away from you” he continues to reassure, which eases their mind. “You’re a good friend Joel” they say, which makes him look down at them
He smiles again, and despite everything, he still found happiness. “Hungry?” He asked them as he stops hugging them now. He gets up now, and walks back over to his kitchen. “Starving” they say as they got up now as well. They follow him into his kitchen now. “Hm let me guess, you want pancakes?” He says as he turns to look at them, which makes them smile. “You know me so well.” This makes him smile in return
That was all six days ago. The day where everything was well as normal as it was for them. They had ditched Joel since they had become a monster themselves. Vampires were never considered scary anymore thanks to Twilight, but that whole stereotype for vampires was complete and utter bullshit. That night still so fresh in their mind as blood was all over them from draining the blood of those who sold drugs
They hadn’t looked like themselves when they were a vampire. They looked like a completely different creature, because that’s all they were now. Undead and looking hideous in the form they didn’t like. A familiar scent they picked up from their heighten senses makes them turn around. There stood Joel with a gun in his hand while they were drenched in blood
“Fuck” they cursed as he was about to take his mask off, but he heard another person entering the house. That person wasn’t alone either. They don’t move away though, but stay standing in their current position. “He’s not alone” they whisper to him, which makes him look at where the noise was coming from, and then back to them. “You’ll be free” they added as the other guy now shows up. Joel shot the guy, and Lewis had witnessed it
Sure they were there, but the demon couldn’t go after them now. Lewis was freaking out now, especially cause he saw the blood on them. They looked at the dead body and was fighting back to turn into their vampire form. Joel takes his mask off now as they couldn’t help but turn into their vampire form. They took all the blood they could and ate feverishly as they did so
Joel wasn’t scared, but concerned now. He realized why they hadn’t been in contact with him now, and it hurt him to know that they felt so scared that he’d be scared of them. But he could never be scared of them since he knew them for so long. Lewis was freaked out, and ditched this place now. Once they were done draining the man’s blood completely, they turned to face him
They looked like deer caught in headlights as they were looking at him still in their dreadful vampire form. They had zero intention of attacking him and seemed better at controlling such urges when they knew the person didn’t deserve it. “Who did this to you?” He asked as he was angry at the vampire who had done this to them and obviously not them. “I-I-I don’t remember…” they say before they start to tear up
The blood was now gone from being on them as they continued to tear up. Joel puts his gun back away, and approached them. “I will find that asshole and put a steak through their heart for doing this to you” he says once he stood closer towards them. They seemed shocked by his reaction, and realized how silly they were to think he’d be so scared of them in this form
They went back to their normal form, and then hugged him. “You’re a good friend” they say as they knew if this was anyone else, they’d be dead or left alone until someone kills them. “Friends don’t want to murder someone who’s done such fucked up things” he says as his hand goes onto their face now. He begins to crease their cheek now, and they felt all their worries fading away again
They closed their eyes as they leaned into the touch. “A friend also doesn’t try to stay up all night to look after the other friend” he adds, which makes them open their eyes. He kisses them now, which makes them return the kiss. When he pulls away, he places his forehead against their forehead and looks at them with such love and care. He’s still creasing their cheek until there were more gunshots now
“I can get us out of here” they say as they grabbed his mask from his other hand to help put it on. “And once we’re out of here, I could make us both pancakes” they say with a smile that showed their fangs.
Note: I’m so bad at endings😭
#Joel smile x reader#kyle gallner x reader#kyle gallner#vampires#I’m so obsessed with vampires#smile 2022#smile 2#joel smile
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𝗂 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗅𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 | 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝟩
—Zeke Yeager x Reader | NSFW
Word Count: 5.5k
Mind the tags if you have any sensitivities! —discussion of eldian euthanization plan, emotional manipulation, could be read as dub-con or even non-con considering zeke and reader are NOT on the same page when they sleep together, first time, penis in vagina sex
Summary: Now - Zeke tells you about his euthanization plan and gets a reaction he doesn't expect. Then - Eighteen-year-old Zeke takes what he wants from you, but it feels like he's lost something instead.
❖ click table of contents for full list of tags, CWs, and chapters. 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗋: 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖽𝗇𝗂 𝖻𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖿𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀 𝗇𝗌𝖿𝗐/𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍. 𝗂 𝖺𝗆 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖺 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗈𝗋 𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝗂𝖼𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖾𝗇𝗀𝖺𝗀𝖾.
table of contents | masterlist | cross posted to ao3 ← previous chapter | next chapter →
Chapter 7: Zeke
Now
When he leaves Eren by the corner on the grounds of the clinic, Zeke keeps his face trained in casual calm. The shadows of the narrow street stretch long in the fading light, and you're already waiting for him by the street. You lift your hand in a small wave as he approaches.
“Nice night for a walk,” you say, falling into step beside him.
“After weeks of bunkers and sandstorms, I’d say so,” Zeke says.
The two of you walk in silence for a while, passing through the familiar winding streets. He would have never guessed how nice it feels to just be there, with you beside him in a quiet moment, where things can feel normal, however briefly. Especially since he hadn’t been certain that you would talk to him again once you were shipped off home.
“I saw you talking to that man earlier,” you say eventually, a passing comment to fill the silence. “Kruger, right? It’s good to see him speaking more.”
Zeke nods, smoothly concealing magnitudes while you’re both still out in the open. “Struggling with the adjustment, I gather. War truly is terrible.”
The irony of his words doesn’t escape him, and he notices you casting him a curious look. You’ve always been good at reading between the lines, and for a second, he wonders if you can already decipher the plans he’s weaving beneath this seemingly ordinary life you’re walking through. If he doesn’t need to explain anything at all.
“Thankfully, that war is behind us,” you say, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
Zeke doesn’t respond. He’s told you he’d share the truth, but he won’t do it on the street. It occurs to him that Eren would probably disapprove, especially considering his own near-willful ignorance of the attentions of his own childhood friend—the Ackerman girl. But it’s his plan, and it’s you . He needs you to know, and he’s almost certain you’ll understand once you do.
When you both reach the steps to your parents’ apartment building, he hesitates at the door. You’re already heading up, glancing over your shoulder to see if he’ll follow.
“So,” you say, pausing, “are you coming up?”
“Yeah, I’ll come up,” he says.
You face brightens just slightly. He catches the change just before you turn to lead the way. Inside the apartment, you pass your parents in the cramped living room. Your father is reading by the dim light of an old lamp while your mother tidies a pile of mending on the table.
“Mom, Dad,” you mutter. “Zeke’s here.”
Dr. Faust looks up and gives him a warm nod. “Ah, Zeke. We were keeping up with all your campaigns during the war. Impressive work.”
“Thank you, sir,” Zeke replies with an easy smile.
“So nice to see you again, Zeke,” your mother says with a knowing smile.
You roll your eyes, brushing past the doorway to avoid the look your mother sends you.
“We’ll be in my room,” you say, grabbing Zeke’s hand to tug him along, and he follows you with a faint grin, murmuring a polite ‘goodnight ’ to your parents.
When the two of you reach the familiar confines of your small bedroom, you shut the door behind you and let go of his hand. You move to open the window, your habit whenever he’s over so he can light up a cigarette, but Zeke reaches out and touches your arm to stop you. You glance at him curiously, hand hovering above the latch.
“No need,” he says.
You seem to catch on immediately, stepping back and settling on the edge of your bed. “Alright, then.”
Zeke lowers himself down to kneel on the floor in front of you, and your keen eyes follow him. He’s already considered where to start. Of all the secrets he’s kept, this one is perhaps the most defining.
“I have royal blood,” he says without beating around the bush. “From my mother’s side. She was from a branch of the Eldian royal family.”
He takes a deep breath, preparing himself for your reaction. Your eyes widen, then narrow, then widen again.
“Royal blood,” you repeat slowly. “I thought the royal family all retreated behind the Walls.”
“Not all of them,” Zeke says. “My mother’s branch refused to retreat and stayed here in Marley.”
Your brows knit. You’re clearly struggling not only with the revelation but also its implications. “Okay. So, what does that mean?”
“The Eldian royal blood has a unique connection with Titans. In theory, only someone with royal blood is able to command the full power of the Founding Titan.”
“Okay. Okay,” you whisper as if to yourself, cradling your head in your hand. “So, that’s why you want to retrieve the Founding Titan. Wait, why do you say ‘in theory’?”
“Because there’s a… caveat. Eldians with royal blood are bound to the will of the First King. Effectively, I wouldn’t be able to do anything with the power. Which is where my brother comes in.”
Your jaw practically drops. “Brother? Zeke, brother?”
“Half brother,” he clarifies. “Kruger, from the clinic? He’s my half-brother. When my father was sent to Paradis, he made it to the Walls and had another child.”
He’s abridging, he knows. There’s too many details and nuances that wouldn’t serve a purpose here, so he keeps it concise for your sake. To your credit, you’re keeping your confusion and disbelief contained mostly in your eyes.
“His name’s Eren. He has the Founder,” he continues. “It’s like a loophole, you see? If the Founder and an Eldian with royal blood are together, they can harness the power of the Founding Titan. We can harness the power.”
“Okay, okay, okay,” you mutter, again to yourself, nodding. Then, your head snaps up. “Wait, what exactly is it you want to do with the Founding Titan’s power?”
At that, Zeke finally hesitates. He studies you, wrestling with his resolve. There’s a vulnerability in your gaze that wasn’t there before, a flicker of something raw beneath your usual composure. He senses it—you’re genuinely afraid of what he might say next. But he’s come this far.
Zeke takes your hands in his, resting his forearms gently against your knees. He knows you, knows you’d understand the necessary lengths he’s going to. He doesn’t doubt your capacity for accepting him and his plan because you understand sacrifice and have already chosen it for yourself.
“I want to put an end to the suffering of the Eldian people,” he says finally. “To end the cycle of hatred and suffering. For generations, our people have been used as weapons and pawns and reviled as devils, and I want to ensure that it never happens again.”
He stops to take a breath. Your face is unreadable, so he presses on.
“With the Founding Titan’s power, there’s a way to make sure our people can be free,” he continues. “By making it so that no Eldians will be born anymore. No more suffering, no more hatred.”
The words settle in the silence like a heavy fog. Zeke watches your reaction carefully. He’s braced himself for shock, for disbelief. But you’re just staring at him, processing, your face slowly transforming from confusion to a sort of horrified understanding.
“Zeke,” you breathe. “You mean… you want to make it so that the Eldian people—,”
“Can’t have children,” he finishes for you calmly. “It’s the only way, Stella. To finally have peace.”
Your mouth opens and closes, your expression contorting as you fight to comprehend what he’s saying. “But you’re talking about our people disappearing. An entire people gone. The end of everything we are,” you say, brow creasing in clear distress. “That—that’s genocide, Zeke. You understand that, right?”
“Yes,” he says firmly. “But it would be bloodless. Painless.”
“Painless,” you scoff, your voice barely above a whisper as you shake your head.
Zeke softly squeezes your hands in his. “Think of what it would mean, Stella. An end to internment zones, to centuries of hatred and resentment. No one left to suffer. Don’t you see? This is mercy.”
You look down, your fingers trembling slightly in his hold. He feels his patience start to thin and his frustration beginning to swell inside him. Why don’t you understand? You were supposed to understand. Zeke pulls his hands away and stands up straight.
“You know this is the only way,” he says sharply. “You understand what it means to sacrifice. You’ve made that choice for yourself, haven’t you?”
Your eyes widen as you stare up at him, visibly taken aback by the accusation in his tone. “What are you talking about?”
“You decided that you wouldn’t have children. That you wouldn’t bring another life into this world to face the same suffering we’ve endured,” he presses, looking down his nose at you. “You’ve already taken the step to end your own bloodline. Why is it so hard to understand that I’m trying to do the same for all of us?”
You sputter. “I chose that for myself, Zeke!” Your voice starts to rise, but you consciously try to keep your volume in check. Eyes flashing with indignation, you briefly flick your gaze to the door. “It was my choice. I would never make that decision for everyone . You can’t just decide for all of us that we don’t deserve to exist.”
Zeke’s gaze hardens, but he follows your lead and doesn’t raise his voice. “It’s the only way,” he repeats. “You can see, can’t you? That the true enemy is the world we live in. The world that forces us to be what we are.”
You stand abruptly to match his stance, shoulders squared. “And this is what you’ve become, Zeke? A man who’s willing to kill everyone because it’s easier than fighting? You’re talking about ending our existence—,”
“I’m not killing us,” he interrupts with a hiss.
“Just letting us die out,” you spit back at him.
“It’s not about easy or hard. It’s about mercy,” Zeke retorts. “There’s no point in fighting if there’s nothing to fight for at the end. We’ll never stop being a target as long as we exist. But this way, I can finally end it all.”
Your lip quivers, even as you attempt to stand your ground. Moisture pricks at your eyes, and that startles him for some reason. “You were never like this before, were you? You were never this fatalistic. You’re just… giving up.”
“I’m not giving up,” he growls. “I’m saving us. You’ve been a fighter your entire life, Stella. In little ways, and it all drove me crazy. But you know as well as I do that we can’t fight forever.”
You stumble back a step, your eyes never leaving his. “I don’t know who you are anymore, Zeke.”
Your words cut through him, deep as a steel blade.
“I—I’m still the same person. And so are you. I’ve just seen too much to believe anything else will work,” he says, running a hand through his hair.
Your shoulders tremble as you finally turn away from him. The silence stretches between you, deafeningly loud. Zeke’s heart pounds. You’re so far away now, somehow farther than he’s ever felt in your years of knowing each other. Farther even than you were after he hurt you all those years ago.
“Are you gonna turn me in?” The question slips out before he can stop it.
“I—,” you begin, voice cracking. You pause and take a shaky breath. “Zeke, I can’t be the one to do that to you.”
“Not even after all that?” he says, surprised. “Not even though I’ll be dead in a year anyway?”
Your cheeks are wet with tears as you shake your head. “I won’t cut your life any shorter. I won’t.”
“You do understand what this means, right?” Zeke says. “I can’t stay here.”
“I know,” you say. You wipe at your eyes, but the tears won’t stop. “But unlike you, I can’t make decisions for others like that. And I—I still care about you.”
Zeke’s heart skips, a strange flutter of warmth breaking through the coldness he’s surrounded himself with. He knows you’re still trying to hold onto some part of him, some shred of the person he used to be. And despite everything, he finds himself grateful for that.
“Thank you,” he says, placing a hand on your shoulder.
You don’t turn back to him right away. You simply stare at the floor. “If you’re looking for some kind of validation, you won’t get it from me. You’re making a decision for all of us, and I don’t know how I can live with that, even if I can’t be the one who ends it.”
“Thank you,” he repeats softly. “For not turning me in.”
“That’s why you chose me, isn’t it?” you says finally turning to face him fully.
He barely lifts one corner of his mouth in a crooked hint of a smile. And, oh, he sees it finally, there in your teary eyes—you love him. But Zeke needs more than a look to pull him away from years of meticulous planning.
It’s unfair, selfish even, but if you could just admit that you love him, maybe that would be enough. He’s not sure if it would be, but he won’t know until you say it. For you, maybe he could give it all up, or at least try.
But you don’t say it. You only stand there, and Zeke can see that you’re holding yourself back, refusing to offer him the absolution he’s almost begging for. As the silence stretches between them, whatever hope was there begins to fade. There’s no way he can weigh his and Eren’s liberation of Eldia against one bittersweet year with you.
He lets out a slow breath and gives your shoulder a soft squeeze. “Goodnight, Stella.”
When he lets his hand fall away, the loss of your warmth is vast. You nod, your lips parting as though you might say something, but you only bite your lip. Zeke knows better than to wait for words that won’t come.
Turning, he walks out of her room, glancing back just once as he takes a step into the hallway. You haven’t moved except to wrap your arms tightly around yourself, your gaze fixed to the floor as though you can’t bear to watch him go.
Then
The lights in the small theater are dim and flickering, but the glow they cast is warm and inviting over the shabby walls and floorboards. There’s music drifting from a scratchy record player, mingling with the chatter of the people milling about. It’s one of those rare, brief nights when Zeke lets himself put his responsibilities at the back of his mind.
The new unit is being deployed soon. Their first assignment as full-fledged Warriors. But tonight, Zeke’s just a teenager in a half-forgotten corner of the internment zone, watching as a few couples sway awkwardly on the dance floor.
He leans back against the wall, hands stuffed in his pockets as he listens to one of his companions tease another, who’s stubbornly refusing to dance with anyone. Out of the corner of his eye, Zeke catches a glimpse of movement—a small group of girls entering from the back, laughing as they make their way through the crowd. He recognizes one of them instantly, even before she glances in his direction and stops mid-step.
It’s you. You’re here. He straightens as you make your way over, surprised. You hadn’t told him you were home, hadn’t passed along a message or sent anything like last time.
“Hey, Zeke,” you say hesitantly when you reach him.
“Hey,” he says lightly, turning to lean smoothly against one shoulder, his hands still resting in his pockets. He’s much taller than you now, definitively surpassed you in height. “Didn’t know you were back.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” you say, although he doesn’t see why you should feel like you need to apologize. “It was a last-minute trip. We’re on break, and some of the girls convinced me to come back for a few days.”
Zeke gives you an easy smile and shrugs. “It’s no big deal. Honestly, I get it. I’m not exactly easy to pin down these days.”
He leans down, just a little, but doesn’t move. Instead, he lets you shuffle in a little closer.
“You tried to catch me last time, but I was busy, wasn’t I?” he says in a low voice.
You nod, looking slightly flustered. “Well, yeah, but that’s totally understandable. I’m sure you’ve got a lot on your plate, on top of your… social life.” You glance around like you’re expecting another girl to materialize and steal his attention away.
“Yeah, I guess,” he chuckles. “It’s tough, but it’s good to know I haven’t turned into a complete stranger.”
Your brows knit just a touch, lips parting. “You’re not a stranger, Zeke. Not to me.”
A pleased warmth settles in his chest. There it is, that eagerness he recognizes from himself and in the way he used to treat you as children. It’s a subtle change, but it almost feels as if you’d be the one chasing after him now, reaching for him, even if you don’t quite realize it yourself. The music shifts to a slower song.
He nods toward the dance floor. “So, you sticking around? I could use a dance partner. Might as well enjoy the night, before we get shipped off in a few days.”
You blink twice, stunned. “So soon?”
“Our first official mission,” Zeke confirms with a soft, confident grin.
“I…,” you trail off and glance around again. “Y-you want to dance with me? I thought you’d be here with someone already.”
Zeke laughs. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he says, holding out his hand with that easy confidence he’s grown into lately. “Let’s just say I’ve gotten picky.”
You huff in playful exasperation, but as his companions seem to have taken an interest in chatting up your friends, you willingly slip your hand into his. “Alright, fine. But you better not step on my feet.”
“I’m more worried about my feet,” he teases as he guides you to the floor, dodging the mock glare you send him in response.
You settle into the rhythm of the song, your hand resting lightly on his shoulder as you move together. He can see the way your expression shifts from that careful reserve to genuinely impressed. You tilt your head, appraising him.
“Look at you, Zeke,” you say. “Didn’t know you could actually dance.”
“Surprised?” he quips with a smirk, pulling you in a little closer. “I guess I’ve picked up a few things while you’ve been gone.”
You let out a laugh, light and unguarded, and he feels an odd thrill. He misses you. You’re different from the girls he’s been seeing lately, always have been. Smart and beautiful and perfect, except that you hadn’t wanted him before. It was your only flaw.
But now, the way your cheeks flush and your eyes dart nervously away when he looks at you, Zeke can tell that’s changed. And why not? He’s eighteen, with his tall frame filled out from Warrior training and a face that the girls around him now swoon over. But there’s something bitter in the satisfaction of having your attention now.
That twisted delight settles in his chest and expands. When he slides his hand over your waist and around to your lower back, you look at him longingly in a way he’s noticed from others but only ever really craved from you. It’s taken you years to see him like this, but now that he’s someone worth chasing, you seem ready to linger.
Zeke guides you across the dance floor, holding you close, and when you take breaks, he makes sure he’s always touching you. Whether it’s his shoulder pressed to yours or his hand at your back, he thrills with your subtle reactions and the tinge in your cheeks that hasn’t faded. It feels good to hold that power over you, the same you used to wield over him whether knowingly or not.
As the evening draws to an end, your friends huddle nearby, sneaking glances your way. Zeke can tell they’re whispering about the two of you—about him, the boy who’s turned into someone unattainable. He feels a surge of pride poisoned with resentment. Leaning in close, he brushes some of your hair from your ear, admiring the way you shiver.
“Hey,” he murmurs, suavely offering you his arm. “Want me to walk you home? It’s late.”
You light up at the offer but still try to sound casual. “If you’re sure you don’t mind.”
“Of course,” he says with a charismatic smile.
Gingerly, you slip your hand into the crook of his elbow, and he starts to lead you out, aware of the envious glances thrown your way. He’s relishing the moment, dragging it out, even though the admiration he’d once hungered for feels hollow. You steal shy looks at him as you walk, and he speaks in low tones, just enough to keep your attention focused on him until you reach your building.
“Here we are,” he says, holding the door open for you.
“Thanks, Zeke,” you say softly.
He grins. “No problem.”
You hesitate and slip inside, breath hitching when you hear him follow you and click the door shut. Your eyes are wide when you turn back to face him.
“What are you doing?” you ask.
“What kind of man would I be if I didn’t walk you all the way to your door?” he teases, already heading for the narrow stairs.
Clearly, you’re conflicted, but you don’t protest and follow him up anyway. Three flights of stairs take you to the door of your parents’ apartment, and Zeke leans his shoulder against the wall beside it as you fish out your key. You’re fumbling a little, and he reaches out to touch your shoulder.
“Are you nervous around me?” he says as your gaze snaps to his, your flush deepening. “There’s no need. We’ve known each other a long time, haven’t we?”
“I’m not nervous,” you object.
“Really?” Zeke shifts to cage you against the door and lifts his hand to brush your cheek with his thumb. “You’re blushing.” He smooths his fingertips down your jaw and the length of your neck. “And your pulse is fast.”
Your breaths are growing shallow, and when you speak his name, it’s barely more than an exhale. Zeke moves his other hand to trail down your arm, eliciting another shiver from you.
“What’s this? You were never this aware of me before,” he says amusedly.
“I—but, I—,” you sputter.
Without waiting, he presses you against the door and kisses you, fierce and heated unlike the timidity of the first time he tried to kiss you. You gasp and lean into it at first, but after a few moments, your hands push at his broad shoulders. Zeke releases you and takes a step back, expecting to hear your protest and prepared to sneer down his nose at you in triumph.
Instead, you take a deep breath and glance around, hands lingering on his chest. “Someone might hear us.”
His stomach flips as he realizes he’d been wrong. He takes in the small smudge of your nude lipstick at the corner of your mouth, your hair falling out of its twist from being smushed against the door, the darkening of your eyes. Desire splinters down his being like a fork of lightning.
“Then, what do you suggest?” he asks.
He likes this, seeing you flustered and nervous. You finish unlocking the door and motion for him to keep it down as he follows you. The apartment is dark and quiet, your parents must already be asleep. Zeke pads after you down the narrow hall to your room.
With your door carefully shut, you’re thrown into shadow. He’s on you again in an instant, kissing you as he steers you backward to your small bed. It’s sloppy, he knows—half out of a lack of practice and half out of impatience. But you don’t seem to care.
Zeke stumbles on top of you, already feeling raw and sensitive as hell. You’re both still clothed, but he can feel your warmth and your hands exploring the planes of his back, and he’s trembling under your touch. He lets his hands wander, too, feeling every part of you he’s dreamed of.
Your skirt pools around your hips as you wraps your legs around him. You’re so soft, softer than he could have ever imagined, but it’s not enough. Zeke pushes at your shirt, forcing it up over your head, and shoves a hand under your bra.
You cover your mouth with your arm to stifle a gasp and arch into his touch. Zeke stares in awe, captivated by the reaction, and squeezes your flesh. Your hips buck into his, and he’s suddenly aware that his dick is harder than it’s ever been before. He needs to feel himself surrounded by your soft, wet heat.
Frantically, he undoes just enough of the buttons of his shirt to pull it over his head and starts on his trousers. Under him, you reach for the clasps of your bra, discarding it to reveal your nipples. It’s too dark to see them in any great detail, but Zeke bites back a groan anyway, cock straining. Finally, he jerks the waistband down over his hips, but it’s only a thin relief. He’s still aching, desperate to be inside you.
After he kicks off the rest of his clothes Zeke reaches into the pocket of his trousers on the ground and pulls out one of the condoms he carries around for show. You toss your skirt and underwear and glance at him in mild surprise. He tries to act nonchalant about it, but it’s hard to see what he’s doing in the dark, and his only consolation is that you probably can’t see too much of his fumbling.
“Have you… done this before?” you whisper as you lay back and let him climb over you again.
“No,” he mumbles. He finds he can’t lie. “Have you?”
You gaze up at him, hair splayed out around your head, bottom lip drawn between your teeth as you shake your head no. Zeke gulps and tenses when you slip your arms around his shoulders. The direct contact of your skin on his is dizzying, leaving trails of fire in your wake.
Tentatively, he takes himself in hand and traces the tip along your core, trying to find the spot where he should be. It’s hard to concentrate, though, when you feel so soft and damp and you’re making those quiet noises. Your whole body goes taut beneath him when the head of his cock catches at your entrance.
Zeke holds his breath, you seem to do the same, and he pushes inside. His mouth falls open with a long moan as he’s swallowed by the sensation. Hot, wet, tight. All other thoughts flee his mind.
You're gasping for breath, nails digging into his back. You're clenched so tight around him it’s making his vision blur white at the edges, like your body is reacting to the intrusion by trying to push him out. But he stays still, stuffed fully inside you, lost in the bliss of your body.
“Mmnh—ah!” You bite down hard on your lip when he tries rolling his hips.
The friction is breathtaking, and Zeke moves again, desperate to spark up that feeling over and over. You're holding back your noises, but the small mewls and gasps that make it past your lips shoot straight to his cock, coiling him up tight. It’s everything—you’re everything—he’s always hoped for.
“Oh,” you grit out, squeezing your eyes shut.
“Y-you okay?” he manages.
You hiss, knees drawn up tight on either side of his ribcage. “I’m fine. It’s just… a lot.”
He’s not sure exactly what to do to fix that, and his brain is too scrambled to consider many possibilities. On a whim, he carefully rolls you both over, cautious of the short edge of the bed, until you’re laying on top of him. Apprehensively, you try to push yourself up, but Zeke snakes his arms around you and presses your sweat-damp chest to his.
Propped up on your knees, you brace against him as he rocks up into you. You shivers above him, the harsh breaths and stifled moans tumbling from your mouth coming out right by his ear. He chases that delicious friction again, pleasure coiling at the base of his spine like a spring.
Something about the new position seems to have done the trick. He’s not sure if it’s the angle or the way your groins grind together with each thrust, but your moans sound less pained, more pleading. The change twists his stomach in knots, makes golden warmth bloom and flutter in his chest. He feels so full of it, like he’s stuck in a thick haze.
Your fingers card through his hair, and the soft graze of your nipples on his chest is unbelievable. The contracting at his core starts to get impossibly insistent, and there’s a thrumming permeating his whole lower half that grows to a vicious roar. His cock pulses inside you, breath shuddering, and he just lets go.
Zeke chokes back a moan as his hips surge up in one last long thrust, his entire frame tensing into stillness there. The pleasure of his orgasm grips him tight. He can feel his spend spilling out into the condom, covering his length with a new wetness. He’s left shaking and panting into the crook of your neck.
When he collapses into the mattress, he brings your full weight down with him and takes a moment to enjoy your warmth, unobstructed by clothing. After a while, you wiggle your hips, and he slips out of you, sated and softening. You flop onto the bed beside him and run a hand through your hair.
“Zeke, I…,” you turn over, resting your hand gently on his chest, “When are you coming back?”
There’s a faint, hopeful color to your voice that reawakens the animosity temporarily quelled by lust. Zeke takes your hand and sets it down on the sheets, pushing himself up to sit at the edge of the bed and remove his condom. The mattress creaks as you prop yourself up behind him.
“Maybe I can work out another trip,” you say softly, running your fingertips down the back of his arm. “After your mission.”
He moves his arm away, ignoring your touch to toss the spent condom in the bin and reach for his clothes. Your words hang in the air as he threads his feet through his bottoms and stands to pull them back on properly.
“Don’t bother,” he says, fixing the buttons and belt.
“It’s not a bother,” you say as he plucks his shirt from the ground. “I could come see you.”
Zeke doesn’t turn back to look at you as he pulls on the shirt. He forces a casual shrug, adjusting his collar coolly. “Maybe. If I have the time.”
Finally, he lets himself face you. In the scant light of the moon, he can see the warmth fading from your eyes, replaced by a flicker of hurt. You reach for your covers and lift them to cover yourself, lips pressing into a thin line. His words stung you, and a small part of him feels guilty, but Zeke forcefully buries it under his bitterness.
“Oh. I see,” you murmur, glancing away.
Your cheeks darken, and your jaw clenches. You’re clearly some mixture of embarrassed by your own hopeful assumption and furious at him. Your fingers clench the covers a little tighter, and he can tell you’re trying to hold onto your pride. It’s failing spectacularly, undermined by your naked state compared to his own.
“Look,” Zeke says, slipping his shoes back on and raking his hair back carelessly. “I’ve got a lot going on. I don’t mind the distraction every once in a while, but you don’t need to go out of your way.”
You blink at him rapidly, your flush spreading down your neck and chest. “A distraction,” you repeat, voice wavering. “I thought…”
He cocks his head as you trail off, shoving his hands in his pockets. You swallow thickly and draw your knees to your chest, like you’re trying to make yourself as small as possible.
“You know what, never mind. Obviously, I was wrong,” you say quietly.
“Guess you were.”
Zeke keeps his expression neutral as he heads for your window. It’s petty—no, it’s undeniably cruel. He knows it. But some childish, awful part of him wants you to hurt. To be burned by him.
“Good luck, then. On your mission,” you say stiffly from your perch on the bed.
He doesn’t spare you another look, and his better judgment tells him he might shatter if he does. Instead he mumbles his thanks and unlatches the window, and in no time, he’s lowering himself out to climb down the familiar footholds. As he reaches the street below, Zeke chances a final glance up.
His eyes catch no movement, and he can’t shake the feeling something precious has slipped away that night. Something he wouldn’t fully understand until much later.
𝖠/𝖭: 𝖶𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗏𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗍𝗂𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝗉𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖹𝖾𝗄𝖾'𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝗈, 𝖨'𝗆 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗎𝗀𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗒. 𝖨 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖨 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝖼 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗎𝗆𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝖹𝖾𝗄𝖾'𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝖺𝖿𝖿𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗌 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗀𝗋𝖾𝗍 𝖺𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖨 𝖽𝗈 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖺 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝖻𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝖺𝗆𝖻𝗂𝗀𝗎𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖨𝖽𝗄 𝗆𝖺𝗒𝖻𝖾 𝖨'𝗅𝗅 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋??? 𝖤𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒???
table of contents | masterlist | cross posted to ao3 ← previous chapter | next chapter →
#zeke jaeger x reader#zeke yeager x reader#zeke x reader#zeke x you#aot x reader#aot x you#fem reader#x reader#reader insert#aot fanfiction#aot fic#snk fanfiction#snk fic
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I think I’m coming down with a cold again and possibly have a fever but I’m here to scream about the update some more anyway! (and analyze a bit but mostly scream). Dawn part 7 here we go!
(All images belong to @linkeduniverse <3)
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First off I have to say this was my favorite panel I think, it’s so pretty. The faint glow! The colors! The cape over his shoulder! Amazing. This truly was Sky’s update, I loved every bit of focus he got. Jojo fed us well :D
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So it looks like I was wrong about Sky reading everyone’s mail. He just immediately took off after the mailman instead (and spent all morning chasing him ha!),
Side note but I love the npc guy. He’s simple but still Zelda-y. the character design in this comic is just👌
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Looks like the mailman has a list of who he’s supposed to deliver to, or at least that’s my guess. It could be a map maybe, but that probably wouldn’t do much good since he’s time traveling?? How does he do it. Don’t question the magic of the postman I guess.
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*green hill zone music intensifies*
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Shoutout to Sky’s face here, I make the same expression when I’m trying to chase after my nephew and stop him from eating crayons
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This looks like a postcard no joke, I'd frame this and put it on my wall. Plus the way the trees were done in the background is really neat, there’s something just really pleasing about this panel. Also the return of Sky: Just Standing There
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They’re all bein silly <3
...except for Four. Because I think him and Warriors both realize that Sky isn’t just telling them what he was doing all morning— he’s got something important to say, something they all actually need to know.
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(Downfall duo laughing together I love them)
Also I agree with everyone saying Warriors is close to snapping— they’ve all had a pretty stressful 24 hours, but Warriors has been breaking up arguments and repeatedly checking on everyone while they’re struggling, and... I don’t think he’s had a break. Take a nap bud, please?
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SKY TALKING TO FI MY BELOVED he's hoping there’s enough of her aware to help him dowse hhhhh. And then he’s so sad she didn’t seem to hear him waahhh 😭
It doesn’t look to me like she truly helped much, but maybe Fi gave just enough of a nudge for Sky to find the postman’s footprints? Even in her sleep? She is glowing just a bit there... Interesting to think about.
It’s confirmed that the postman uses the portals! And that the Shadow is alive and kicking! Uh-oh! (Also does anyone else think this one seems more... firey? Then the last one? Maybe it's just me).
And the chopped-off darknut head is still there too.... and I’ll bet you twenty rupees somebody is going to kick it when the Links go through the portal later. (My guess is Wild but I’d put my money on Legend or Wind too).
I’m also really curious where that portal leads... My guess is either Twilight’s Hyrule or Sky’s, based on what hints we’ve been getting, but I really don’t know. It’ll be fun to see!
*Wind rapidly thinking of at least three conspiracy theories*: SUS
Also an amazing expression from him I’m laughing so hard, he really said 3:<
Tag yourself I’m Four
Also Sky just chugging away at the stamina potion, poor guy XD he must be beat from all that running around, I hope he has some more time to sit before the Links get moving.
(And I mentioned this in another post, but Legend looks so alarmed at this information, as does Wild... it’s not going to be pretty when they cross paths with the Shadow again, that’s for sure)
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I love when Time breaks out the dramatic language... makes me remember that this guy is going to be the Hero’s Shade someday (who’s speech is 99% dramatic things).
Now the Links just have to decide what to do next... will they stay another day at the inn for Twilight’s sake, or get moving right away? Is Four going to confront Twilight about the dark magic he uses to turn into Wolfie?
So many questions... but in the meantime I will gladly continue to reread this amazing update, I really loved this one :D
#linkeduniverse#linked universe#linked universe analysis#lu sky#and a bunch of other guys I don't feel like taggig#update spoilers#rambles from the floor
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@zumbieve You made the ever-amazing Isekai’d Shadow AU, but what about something a little different?
I bring to you Isekai’d Sonic!
@cellsknife Just wanted to tag you too since you’re awesome and we discussed something similar before
So @cellsknife and I thought it’d be funny if Modern Sonic joined B!Team Sonic, and once brought into the group, B!Sonic told him to just ignore Sticks’ crazy theories or go along with them. Stuff like aliens, government agents, and robots, and M!Sonic would think about Shadow’s alien half, how one of his closest friends is a robot, and works with G.U.N. occasionally and thinks to himself “Geez, no wonder your Shadow hates you so much.”
So this new Sonic is shorter and less snarky, so he finds a place in Hedgehog Village pretty quickly, but what I think is most interesting is how he’d react to this universe’s Shadow.
Be Warned: I’ll be mentioning a lot of headcanons, so if you get bored by some of this stuff, I won’t take it personally.
First, M!Sonic would notice his voice sounds off. As if he were sick and struggling to speak, but being able to shout makes M!Sonic second guess his first assumption. Also, the Shadow he knew can’t get sick. He really hopes this Shadow is the same, but he’s harder to talk to. This Shadow is a lot more snappy, but M!Sonic sees straight through him. He knows the signs. He also sees the small cracks in his inhibitor rings. This Shadow has clearly been around a while and has seen harsher days, and is more distrusting, so M!Sonic decides to try earning that trust.
He tried coffee beans, but B!Shadow made a face like he’d puke. Very odd, but M!Sonic could try something else, right? Wrong! B!Shadow turned down every bit of food offered to him, and then M!Sonic remembered that time he heard his universe’s Shadow mention that he could go without food or water and simply rely on chaos energy. With the limited information he had, he concluded B!Shadow must’ve given up food at some point to survive and didn’t know how to eat anymore without throwing up. He hated that, but it was the best theory he had.
He also tried just being around him in silence. Obviously, this angered the dark hybrid, but he actually got used to M!Sonic being around. To some, this didn’t seem like anything, but M!Sonic saw progress. Then he started asking questions or making passing comments, little things here and there to break the silence for a minute.
Then came the night M!Sonic “asked” about his Black Arms half.
M!Sonic: Sticks was rambling today about aliens again. The others don’t buy her theories, but we both know she’s not entirely wrong.
B!Shadow spun around and looked at M!Sonic like he just threatened to kill his entire family and blame it on him.
After M!Sonic talked a bit about his universe’s Shadow and how he’s half Black Arms, B!Shadow became quiet and asked M!Sonic is he was really okay with the fact that one of his friends was part alien, and M!Sonic shrugged and said that he thought it was pretty cool. B!Shadow admitted to what M!Sonic already knew and even added that part of the reason he began trusting him was because he had a look inside his mind a few times and saw that his intentions were genuine.
I like to imagine M!Sonic sitting outside the beach shack and B!Sonic asks him if he’s going to come back inside, and M!Sonic goes “Nah, Tall Shadow said he’s going to show me his Black Arms form and will be here any minute. I can’t wait to see.”
One day, during an Eggman fight, M!Sonic spotted B!Shadow and asked for some help. To everyone’s surprise, B!Shadow listened.
M!Sonic also gets Riding Privileges. B!Shadow’s black arms form is very tall thanks to Black Doom’s genes, and he’s allowed M!Sonic to be on his back or shoulder if he ever needs to carry him. I think it’d be fun to see M!Sonic on B!Shadow’s shoulder and B!Sonic goes “Why can’t I do that?!” And M!Sonic responds with “Don’t deny the existence of his Black Arms half, then we’ll talk.” And B!Shadow just goes along with it and nods in agreement.
Now let’s talk about chaos energy. M!Sonic would gladly tell the others about chaos energy, and he knows that B!Shadow’s “magical abilities” are actually chaos powers. He’d also be really worried about the cracked inhibitor rings, but B!Shadow insists it’s fine and seems convinced that there’s no way to fix them since the stone used to make them doesn’t form naturally anymore.
M!Sonic wonders if part of the reason B!Shadow is cranky all the time is because he can also feel the lack of chaos energy and if the fact that he’s the only source of chaos energy is somehow affecting him mentally. If he brings a bit of chaos energy to the island, would B!Shadow feel more at ease?
Or is it something else? Why does no one ever mention Rouge or Omega? Or G.U.N? It seems like a bit of a bold move since B!Shadow is a pretty private guy, but M!Sonic might need to ask him directly if he wants to get answers.
Anyways I’m rambling and this whole thing looks messy, but that’s the majority of the idea. Isekai’d M!Sonic taking one look at B!Shadow and thinking to himself “Yeah, that’s not right, time to befriend him and see what’s going on. Pspsps, alien hybrid, I’ve got some comfort and friendship for you!”
Best part is I can actually see M!Sonic going “pspsps” while holding or shaking a bag of coffee beans, and B!Shadow is hissing at him with his third eye out, his tail grown longer and slashing around in anger, his quills raised, and his stripes glowing with chaos energy sparking. So an intimidation display mixing both Black Arms and Hedgehog behaviors.
#Isekai’d Sonic AU#I need to write this down#sth#sth AU#Sonic boom#boom shadow#black arms shadow#black arms
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wally + painting as foreplay hcs ; 18+
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requested by ; anonymous (19/06/23)
fandom(s) ; welcome home
fandom masterlist(s) ; sfw | nsfw
character(s) ; wally darling
outline ; “nsfw request (from an adult! haha) for more of Wally and the painting foreplay from your last post because I absolutely love the idea and I’m curious about the details!”
warning(s) ; sexually explicit content, referenced sexual intercourse, use of painting as a form of foreplay
note ; block the tag ‘playfellowxxx’ if you don’t want to see nsfw content for this fandom — clown created it for this specific use haha
additional note ; if anyone can guess what the third method is a reference to then you get a cookie
minors and ageless blogs will be blocked
wally is, before anything else, an artist — painting is practically in his blood — so it’s no surprise that this passion of his would make its way into the bedroom
there are a few ways that this tends to manifest itself so i’ll go through them in order of likelihood
the first is that it’s a painting of an erotic pose/outfit that turns into something more involved
typically this begins with him being solidly behind a canvas and viewing you and the scene you’re apart of through the lens of artistry rather than arousal
of course he finds the sight appealing and attractive on principle — it involves you after all — but the intention is innocent enough so his mind is centred on mixing acrylics and sketching shapes and the like
he’s mentally breaking you down to your components rather than seeing the whole picture: the curve of your throat, the swell of your thighs, the strain of your arms and the array of toys and gear that surround you
light and shadow and shading and colours and his hands are covered in paints and there’s some on his face… his hair is more black than blue, even
and he’s not going to be thinking about sex unless you invite him into the scene or mention wanting to see the painting close up
even then it will take him a minute since his mind is elsewhere, but after that he’ll start to appreciate the full picture in a much more active (and enjoyable) way for you both
the second is done through him painting you whilst you’re being pleasured or pleasuring yourself
whether it’s by instructing you to masturbate or using a remote controlled toy, this method will involve him trying to depict you in the throes of pleasure to the best of his abilities
he thinks you look absolutely stunning when you’re getting off and he wants to be able to capture that moment in paint and pencil — which, of course, means that there will be more than one attempt needed for him to get it right
this time he’s not oblivious to the eroticism of the situation and is instructing you on what to do in a calm and gentle voice — praising you for doing so well as he always does
‘hmm… spread your legs a bit wider please, dear,’
‘now, now, don’t muffle yourself — i promise you’re not distracting me,’
‘hmm… i’m not sure if i got your eyes quite right. would you be okay with trying that again?’
he’ll show you each sketch and painting after the fact whilst he helps you come down from your climax
talking you through the techniques he used and pointing out things about you that he loves through the art piece
and, of course, he’s more than happy to reward you for a job well done — which is what leads to some more active commentary on how much he appreciates your body, your words and, well, just you in general
the third, and final, way that painting is used as a type of foreplay for wally would be him painting your body like it’s a canvas
this would rarely ever happen because it just wouldn’t be something he’d think of doing — so you’d have to be the one to propose it
he’d probably struggle a bit with planning and fretting over the logistics of finding body safe paints (especially if you have sensitive skin)
but once everything is sorted out he’d probably get really into it in the moment
he’s printing the natural world onto your naked body and he’s being so gentle and focused as he does so
petunias and forget-me-nots and baby’s breath and lilies and roses and lavender and bluebells and daisies and so much more
each one with its petals painted heavy and thick with it’s stems brushed faint and thin — decorating and complimenting every dip and curve and scar and stretch mark that made your body your own
he’s humming some song or another as he makes his way further and further down: from your lips and cheeks, to your throat and chest, down your stomach and back, along your thighs and calves before ending at your sex
by then you’re a breathing work of art and the sun is warm and low and he’s looking at you like you were one of the beautiful blooming flowers that now decorated your skin
and you kiss him and he kisses you and you make love
the artwork gone — smudged all over your faces and bodies and the blanket beneath you — but it’s impact permanent
a memory, a moment, an emotion
then nothing went to waste — not even as you carry yourselves up to shower together and are intimate once again and you feel and see the paint (in a mixture of other things) washing away down the drain
#sleepingdeath#playfellowxxx#smut#minors dni#minors fuck off#minors dont touch#smut hcs#welcome home smut#welcome home x reader#wally darling x reader#wally darling smut#gender neutral reader
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Until I Met You - Chapter 34
Chapter 34: Ill Tidings
Pairings: Halsin x Tav
Word count: 3,893
Rating: Currently M, will be Explicit in later chapters.
Chapter 1
Read on AO3
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Summary: Our group of heroes makes their way to the Thorm mausoleum. Halsin is finally reunited with Thaniel. Part 34 of the slow burn fic. Tav and Halsin POVs.
Tags: Slow burn, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual love confessions, eventual smut, angst, implied past rape/non-con and abuse, graphic description of injuries, brief suicidal thoughts.
A/N: A bit of a shorter chapter to bridge some big events, but still some fun dialogue! I don't know about you, but I think Thaniel would be just a little bit of a shit (affectionate) ;) you'll get to see more of him (and Oliver) in upcoming chapters!!
Halsin awoke to find Tav still curled up against him. He guessed they had only been out for a couple of hours. At some point during their trance, she had moved into his lap and was now wrapped in his arms with her head on his chest. The sight made his heart race. Tentatively, he leaned forward and placed a light kiss on the top of her head.
He wanted nothing more than to sit there holding her for the rest of the day. But for now, he needed his focus to return to their shared goal of banishing the Absolute cult from these lands and driving the shadows away for good.
He jostled Tav awake. Her eyelids slowly opened, and she stretched in his arms. She smiled up at him as she shook off the last of her trance. It took her a moment to take in her surroundings, but once she did a familiar redness started to creep over her face. She jumped to her feet, tugging at her long, messy braid.
“Oh…uh…good morning…” She started to stammer. “I’m sorry I must have drifted off last night. I didn’t mean to trap you here…” Halsin chuckled in response.
“There is nothing to apologize for, believe me when I say there are worse traps that I have been caught in. But to wake up to such a lovely sight as you…” He held his hand out to her, trying to persuade her to come sit again. “I think I could be convinced to be trapped more often.”
She took his hand and let him lead her down to the ground next to him.
“I meant what I said the other night, Tav,” he started, still holding her hand. “I care for you. My heart and mind have been closed off for so long, I don’t know when I’ll be able to open them again.” He let out a deep breath.
“I care for you too, Halsin. And I understand,” she said softly, squeezing his hand. “I can’t blame you for not wanting to open your heart to someone who could turn into a mind flayer without a moment’s notice.” Her lower lip was starting to quiver as she looked away from him.
He looked at her, confused. Did she think that was the problem?
“Tav…” He moved one hand to cradle her cheek. “The parasite has nothing to do with this. I…” He looked down at the ground.
“My mind has been walled off completely by this shadow curse since it was unleashed. Nothing has been able to break through that barrier. Not until you.”
She nuzzled her face further into the palm of his hand.
“I’m afraid I just need some more time before we can be anything more than this.” He looked down at the other hand that was now holding hers.
“But it’s as I told you before, you should follow your heart just as I follow mine. I would never dream of asking you to save yourself for me, it is not in my nature.” Halsin kept his eyes fixed on their hands.
“More than anything, I cherish your friendship, your company. And I do not wish to lose that.”
“You won’t,” Tav assured him as she squeezed his hand.
“I…I’m sorry I can’t be more for you right now.”
“There’s nothing to apologize for, love. You’re more than enough as you are.”
“But I want to be more I just can’t seem to see past the shadows…past the guilt and the grief.” He let out a frustrated grunt. “I want so badly to be close to you, Tav, but every time I try, I feel something pull me back.”
“I like spending time with you. We can be as close as you like, Halsin. If that means we hold hands or share a hug every now and then, but nothing more, I’m happy to accept.”
“Perhaps more often than every now and then,” he teased back in a hopeful whisper.
She smiled before leaning forward and pulling him into a hug.
“I can be patient, Halsin. I can wait.”
I can wait.
The words brought tears to his eyes as he hugged her back, grateful that his face was hidden in her shoulder. Her soft strokes in his hair caused him to melt further into her embrace.
But why? Why would she want to wait for him?
“You just let me know when you’re ready,” she said as she released him. “You can set the pace, love.”
Gods, why can’t I be ready now?
“I will.”
She paused for a moment and took a shaky breath. “And should you decide it’s not something you want, then you’ll still have me as a friend.”
“Thank you,” he whispered back.
Halsin took one of her hands and gave her knuckles a light kiss.
“I should go and check on Thaniel.” He reluctantly pulled away from her. “He should be awake soon, or so I hope.”
“Of course. I’ll go check the torches around the perimeter.”
“Join us when you’re done?”
“I’ll be there shortly.” She squeezed his hand again as she stood up.
Halsin watched her walk away as he rose from his seat. She turned over her shoulder and caught him staring. Rather than quickly averting their gazes as they had so many times before, they locked eyes for a moment and smiled. A new kind of warmth spread through his chest as she turned away again.
I can wait.
For the first time in so long someone cared about him, not just because they needed something or looked up to him. Because they wanted to be with him, and they wanted to be with him so badly that they would wait for him to be ready.
He just hoped he wouldn’t have to keep her waiting for long.
In his tent, Thaniel still remained in a sound slumber. At least his breathing had calmed, and his face looked much more peaceful than it had last night.
“We did it, Thaniel,” he whispered as the small boy’s soft snores filled his tent. “Oliver will be returned to your side, you’ll be whole again. I have so much to tell you, my friend.”
He sat and talked to Thaniel as he slept, holding one of his small hands. Telling him of their journey so far, of all the nights he tried to speak with him. He apologized for not making it back to Moonrise sooner, for leaving him in the clutches of the Shadowfell for so long. He told him about Tav, how she saved them.
Over one hundred years had passed since he’d seen Thaniel last, and he still had not changed one bit. As he continued to sleep, Halsin closed his eyes and offered another prayer of thanks to Silvanus for helping him to be reunited with his oldest friend.
A small groan took his attention away from his prayers. When he opened his eyes again, he saw Thaniel’s fluttering open as well. Tears started pouring down his face as soon as he saw those eyes filled with the very essence of nature itself.
His irises started as a deep brown, as rich as the soil beneath them before shifting to green, the color of the forest canopy. Small, golden tendrils cut their way through as the sun pierced the leaves of the trees before fading to a soft blue, mirroring that of the sky.
“Thaniel?” he asked quietly.
“Halsin Silverbough…you returned. I felt it when you crossed into this land.”
He let out a loud, relieved laugh as Thaniel sat up next to him, it took a great effort from him to do so.
“Easy, my friend.” Halsin helped him up.
“I told the man who was trapped with me to find you. He was a good friend to me while we were prisoners in the Shadowfell.”
“He found us. He led me to you.” Halsin sniffled and wiped his face on the back of his arm. “Thaniel, I…I’m so sorry. I wanted to find you that day. I wanted to bring you with us, away from these wretched shadows.”
“If you would have stayed, you would have been consumed. I am glad you made it to safety. And I knew you would return.” He reached up to rest a hand on Halsin’s cheek. “You opened your heart, and nature listened.”
“Just as you taught me.”
Sobs took over his body at feeling Thaniel’s touch. He reached out and pulled his friend close. Knowing that he never lost faith in him soothed away the guilt that had clawed at his insides for decades.
“I sensed someone else return with you as well.”
“Yes, Tav. She’s the one I told you about while you slept.” He smiled at the sound of her name on his lips. “She was here all those years ago as well.”
“Can I meet her?”
“Of course! She should be making her way over here soon.”
Thaniel’s tired smile drew forth another laugh from him. The tremendous joy of seeing him alive and well again gave Halsin all the confirmation he needed that he had made the right decision to come back.
The grove and the druids who resided there would recover in his absence, but Thaniel could not have been saved without him. This land could not have been saved had he stayed at the Emerald Grove.
As he sat and talked with Thaniel for a while longer, the young boy suddenly perked up, staring past Halsin’s shoulder.
“Hey…” Tav was approaching his tent with a surprised look on her face. “You’re awake.”
“Is this her?” Thaniel turned to him to ask.
“Yes, this is Tav. Tav, this is Thaniel,” he could barely choke the words out he was so excited to introduce them.
Halsin beamed as she knelt down to take Thaniel’s outstretched hand.
“The druid Halsin spoke to me while I slept. He told me how you fought shadows and risked your life to save us. You have my thanks.” Thaniel’s voice was soft and hoarse, still weak from his time in the Shadowfell.
“Happy to help.” Tav smiled as she patted his hand.
“But there is one final task to be done. One final anchor that holds the curse to these lands. For my land to heal, Ketheric Thorm must die.”
“I understand,” she whispered back to him.
“I remember your face.” Thaniel’s other hand reached up to touch Tav’s cheek. “I saw it here the day I was whisked away to the Shadowfell. You were running.”
She nodded back at him.
“Thank you for coming back.”
Tav smiled as Thaniel’s hands dropped back to his side.
“Get some rest, Thaniel. We’ll take it from here.” Tav brushed a few hairs from his forehead.
Halsin stood watching them, an overwhelming feeling of relief spreading throughout him. Seeing his two dear friends meet was more than he could have ever hoped to experience over the past century.
“You were right, Halsin,” Thaniel smiled up at him, “she is beautiful.”
His eyes went wide, and he immediately blushed at Thaniel’s words, even more so when he saw the way Tav bit down on her lips to keep from smirking.
“You’re too sweet, Thaniel.” Tav tapped his nose before standing back up.
“Yes, so sweet.” Halsin scolded him playfully through gritted teeth. Thaniel just grinned back at him with a smug twinkle in his eyes. Despite the teasing, he couldn’t help but feel thankful that Thaniel’s mischievous side had made it out of the Shadowfell unscathed.
Tav took his hand and ushered him back toward the fire. He turned to wave at Thaniel over his shoulder.
Everyone else was just waking for the day, taking sleepy strides toward the fire for their morning meal.
“Morning, soldier. What’s on the agenda today?” Karlach hopped up from her seat to greet them.
Tav looked back to his tent at Thaniel who had now been joined by Oliver. The two fey boys sat together playing a clapping game with their hands. The slow, owlish turn of her head as she faced them again revealed a darkened expression.
“We’re going to kill Ketheric Thorm.”
***
Tav had prepped her gear for the day, checking the tension in her bow, the clasps of her armor, her stock of potions. She went over everything twice, dragging her feet to keep her from her responsibilities this morning.
But Halsin was waiting for her when she emerged from her tent.
“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice low and solemn.
“I need to talk to Arabella before we do anything else,” she sighed.
“I’ll join you.”
Arabella was in her usual spot near Withers. Despite being in their camp for days, she still hadn’t exhausted her repertoire of questions. The sight threatened to break her resolve, she found herself not wanting to crush that curiosity today. How unlucky for her though that Halsin was there to make sure she saw it through.
“Hey, you,” Arabella greeted them in a cheery voice. “I don’t s’pose you found anything out about mum and pops, did you?”
Tav knelt down to her level. Dread maintained its clawed grip in her chest.
“Arabella,” she sighed, placing a hand on her shoulder, “there’s no easy way to say this, love. We found your parents, but they were already dead.”
“What?” Arabella’s smile faded away.
“I’m sorry, little one,” Halsin said from behind Tav.
“I…I don’t believe you.” She took a step back, causing her tail to curl loosely around her leg and Tav’s hand to drop.
Tav tried to reach out for her, but she stepped away again.
“No!” she sobbed. “Get away from me, go!”
“Arabella, I’m so–”
“LEAVE ME ALONE!” Arabella cut her off to scream before running away to the other side of the camp.
Tav’s shoulders slumped forward as she ran away. She wanted to chase after her, to tell her that everything would be okay in the end. Arabella had already endured so much, Tav hated to be the one to deliver even more ill tidings. She leaned onto Halsin’s arm as soon as he knelt next to her.
“So much death in these few days. Tev, Arabella’s parents, so many refugees and Harpers…” Tav was still preoccupied watching Arabella from across camp. She had curled into a ball, still sobbing into her knees pulled tight against her chest. Any attempt to go comfort her had been unsuccessful, but Karlach had at least managed to leave a small bowl of food next to her.
Eventually, Scratch made his way over to her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and cried into his fur, snuggling up against him in the dirt.
“It has been a difficult start to our time here, yes,” Halsin agreed, “but remember there has also been life flourishing even among the darkness.”
“I suppose.”
“Everyone at Last Light is alive because of you, my friend. You were able to save many of them from a terrible fate at Moonrise, you’ve given Arabella a safe place to stay, and you helped me bring Thaniel back.”
Tav wiped away the tears spilling down her cheeks.
“I do not know how many times I’ll have to say this, but it bears repeating until the sentiment sticks.” Halsin took both of her hands in his. “You are far too hard on yourself, Tav. Despite the incredible feats you’ve accomplished in such a short time you still don’t think you’ve done enough. I know there is still a long fight ahead of us, but do not downplay what you have achieved thus far.”
“You…you said ‘us’ just now,” she whispered.
“Of course,” he smiled back at her, “this is our fight, Tav. I promised you my aid, and you shall have it.”
“Then I guess we should get moving,” she sighed.
Halsin helped her to her feet, keeping a gentle hold on one of her hands as they walked out of camp.
The party started their day at Last Light Inn, checking in with the forces there for any potential updates.
Tav and Halsin informed Jaheira of their success with Thaniel as well as their intention to go to the mausoleum next. She let them know that the forces at Moonrise had been strangely quiet. They were no longer venturing out into the shadows, instead gathering their numbers at the towers.
Karlach and Wyll took on the unfortunate task of letting the other tieflings know of Komira and Locke’s fates. Arabella was still unwilling to talk with her this morning before they left, but she also didn’t seem willing to leave their camp.
Everyone else milled around the inn, trading and conversing with the others sheltering there. The Harpers and tieflings were generous enough to provide them with additional supplies for the upcoming fights. Special arrows, potions, and scrolls to get them through the next few days.
“Ah, there you are, I was wondering when you might make your way back here.” Tav heard a familiar voice call out to her.
She turned around to see Barcus Wroot standing behind her, a small package held in front of him.
“As promised, a small token of my appreciation for your efforts.” He held it out to Tav, who took it graciously.
“That’s kind of you Barcus, thank you. Something tells me we’ll need all the help we can get.”
She opened the small box to see a…bomb? There was also a small pile of gold.
“I call it the Brilliant Retort! A rather powerful explosive that would be sure to change the tide in any battle.”
She smiled back at him, but his face was distant.
“Is everything alright, Barcus? I thought you’d be happier now that Wulbren is back.”
“Ah, yes, well…” Barcus cleared his throat. “I’m afraid Wulbren isn’t much for speaking at this moment. Perhaps once we reach Baldur’s Gate, he’ll feel more inclined.”
“He won’t even speak with you? After you’ve travelled halfway across the godsdamned continent to find him? After you were enslaved in the Underdark on the way?!” Tav heard her voice rising.
She glanced around the inn, trying to catch a glimpse of him so she could give him a piece of her mind.
“Oh, it’s just Wulbren being well…Wulbren. He has been through a lot, after all. I’m sure everything will work itself out in the end.”
Unsuccessful in her search, Tav pursed her lips. “You know where to find me if it doesn’t.”
“That I do,” Barcus nodded, “I’m sure you’ll have the path forward cleared soon enough. I’ll wait here with the others for your next bout of heroics to come to an end.”
“Thank you, Barcus, for this.” Tav held up the small package before stashing it away as the rest of their adventuring party joined them. “We’ll talk soon.”
He turned to slink away, his shoulders slumped and his feet dragging across the floor.
“Alright, soldier, ready to get this show on the road?” Karlach bopped up next to her, slinging an arm around her shoulders.
“As I’ll ever be.”
***
Halsin shuddered as they made their way past the House of Healing. In this area of town, the shadows were especially dark and hungry. Despite the pixie blessing keeping them at bay, he could feel how they longed to seep into his very soul, to drag him down into the abyss with them.
Bones and armor littered the ground around them. Graves half-dug and empty lined every small plot of land. The bodies meant to fill them were likely among the scattered piles of bones, abandoned once that terrible darkness sprung forth from the tomb nearby.
The pathway leading up to the crypt was still familiar, even among the shadows. His last march here all those years ago came to the front of his mind. Members of Harpers and the Emerald Enclave working together to lay Ketheric Thorm to rest, to forever remove his blight from the world.
Halsin approached the opening to the mausoleum, his feet feeling heavier with each step. All along the outside were remnants of runes and glyphs, all meant to keep Thorm sealed away.
The door to the mausoleum had been obliterated when the curse was unleashed. The iron gates magically locked, bound by powerful rituals and spells to keep the entire resting place of the Thorm family isolated from the world. Seeing their state now, Halsin realized just how futile their attempt had been. The rungs of the gates were warped and twisted, poking out in every direction leaving a gaping hole in the entryway.
He ran his fingers along the rocky cliffside. They caught on the grooves that had been carved by him and his mentor. When he closed his eyes, he could still feel the approving pat on the shoulder he had given Halsin when he finished etching his piece of the sigil.
Tav stood nearby, studying a few Harper runes.
“Hard to believe these are still here,” she mused. “Especially with what little good they did.”
“I remember carving them, feeling satisfied. We were already mourning of course, so many lives had been lost before making our way here.” Halsin paused to take a deep breath. “But there was at least a happiness of knowing we had succeeded. That the remaining Dark Justiciars were being fought back as we sealed Ketheric Thorm away for good.”
“Yes, that’s unfortunately where my squad was fighting. I suppose the lucky part was that we were further from the strongest of the shadows.” She shuddered at the memory.
“Master Alwin fell quickly,” he said softly. “I had to…”
Halsin saw the understanding look in Tav’s eyes even through his tear-blurred vision.
“I had to cut down his corpse.”
He sighed as he felt Tav’s fingers intertwine with his own.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered back. “I don’t wish that on anyone.”
“This small area looks like a battlefield in its own right,” Wyll remarked as he studied the piles of bones and rusted armor around them.
“It was of sorts.” Halsin turned to face him, drying his eyes in the process. “The curse sprang forth from the mausoleum, decimating everything in its path. Those of us that survived the initial wave did so out of sheer luck.”
Gale whistled as he inspected the mangled iron gate. “If the state of that entryway is any indicator–”
A sudden smell of sulfur in the air caused them all to freeze.
“Our hero thought but of treasure ahead, did not consider the peace of the dead…”
The sound of weapons unsheathing echoed in the air at the unexpected intrusion. They whipped around to see Raphael standing behind them.
“Through the dark she went creeping, and awoke what was sleeping.”
“A warning? Oh, Raphael, don’t tell me you’re worried about us,” Tav shot back with a sweet smile.
“Merely protecting my assets, my dear,” he assured her with a shallow bow. “I will admit I’ve grown quite fond of you, in my own way. I thought it would be only fair to warn you about the dangers ahead.”
“Oh? And what would be the cost of this warning? Or are you just feeling particularly altruistic today?”
“No cost, just a simple proposition between friends. You help me…” Raphael turned his attention to Astarion.
“I help you.”
#oops I forgot to post this here when I published on ao3 sorry y'all#it just means you'll get the next chapter real fast!#bg3#bg3 fanfiction#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate iii#halsin x tav#bg3 halsin#halsin fanfic#halsin silverbough#oakflower
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Peter 3 goes on patrol with the air tag on his butt since he doesn't have a phone yet, then meets up with Wade after.
___
Peter 3 let out a joyful whoop as he swung through the city, doing flips at the peak of his arcs and turns, enjoying the rush of the free fall. He felt his Spidey-Sense prickle up a low-level alert and changed course to investigate. As he drew near enough to perch on the roof of one of the buildings near the alley in question, the warning ramped up hot and he instinctively shot a web into the dark, then dropped down, having knocked a knife out of a mugger’s hand and startled him back into a stack of pallets. He put himself in front of the victim, arms fanned out protectively.
“What the- who the hell are you??” the mugger asked.
“Who the…” Peter 3 cocked his head, “Are you serious? I’m Spiderman.” He turned to the victim, “Are you okay? Did he take anything?”
“No, uh- I mean, I’m okay, uh… thank you! You look taller in person!” the near-victim hurried off back to the main street area.
“Um!... Thanks?” Peter 3 shook his head, then shot another web without looking, sticking the mugger to the street before he could run off. “Okay man, come on, that’s not how this works.” He turned to face him and crossed his arms. The mugger fumbled in his pockets and Peter 3 huffed in annoyance, webbing his hands tied. “No.” He sighed. “Look, I’m just… I’m gonna go get someone to call the cops and pick you up. I’ll stick close in case someone else tries to pull an uno reverse and mug you, then you’re on your own.”
“You’re not Spiderman, Spiderman’s a kid…”
“Dude! That was almost four years ago when that story came out! Do math! Not a kid!”
“I heard he was like, fourteen back then… So that’s still a minor…”
“Oh my God…” Peter 3 threw his hands up and walked out of the alley and peeked around, looking for a likely person to call it in. A couple onlookers lifted up their phones to take a picture and he zeroed in on them with a little wave. “Uh, hey! Hi…” He hopped up on a streetlight and stuck to it. “Are you taking picture or video right now? … could you just please call 911 or the non-emergency line and leave a tip about this alley? … I don’t have my phone on me at the moment.”
“You should put pockets in your suit!”
“… I have pockets!” Peter 3 said, sliding a hand down his thigh into the concealed pocket there and wiggling his fingers. This got him a couple giggles.
“Before I call the cops, uh, is the guy in the alley black?” One of the less-drunk group members spoke up.
Peter 3 pointed a finger. “That is a sadly relevant question. No, not a black guy, please tell the dispatch that info. Not too sure more specific than that. Also he’s fine, just immobilized.”
“ACAB!” one of the other people in the group called out.
“Hey! Look, I agree! But this guy was gonna literally stab someone, this isn’t a slap on the wrist and let go kinda deal. What do you want me to do, beat him up myself? Nuh-uh. I’ll stick around to make sure nothing happens until he’s in custody.” Peter 3 relaxed into an upside-down crouch.
“Uh, I guess someone already called it in! They’re on their way.”
“Okay, Thanks!” Peter 3 swung himself up and leapt off the streetlight onto the building, then scrambled back to the alley to wait out of sight.
“… I know you’re up there!” the mugger called up into the dark.
“Dude, I said I would be. Calm your tits.” Peter 3 snorted, settling into the shadows high on the wall, sticking with his back and feet. He wondered how long it would take before Wade noticed he’d stopped traveling and come to investigate. The arrival of flashing red and blue lights at the entrance to the alley signaled the authorities’ arrival. “Alright, pumpkin, your ride is here. I’ll make sure you get on the bus safe and sound, then I don’t want to catch you out here again, got it?” Flashlights swept down the alley, spotlighting the webbed-up mugger. One broke off and went high, catching Peter 3’s reflective eye shields. He put a hand up to shade them, then walked himself up backwards quickly out of sight before jumping higher on the next building. He grinned to himself as he heard the mugger insist to the cops that that wasn’t Spiderman.
“I mean he looked like Spiderman to me? You saw him sticking to the wall… and these look like webs… what else would you call that?”
“Dude but Spiderman’s a kid, that guy was for sure older… like… mid… twenties at least?”
“Whatever. This your knife?”
“… No.”
“I’m pretty sure Spiderman’s college age now. That expose came out four years ago and I think he was a high-school senior then…”
Peter 3 chuckled, satisfied that there wouldn’t be any police violence, and took a running start before web-slinging away again.
--
“BabyBoy!!” Wade squeaked cheerfully as Peter 3 came in for a landing on the agreed upon rooftop, holding up a bag. “I brought tacos!”
Peter 3 remembered that Wade had been looking for him for two years. “Babe, you’re the best.” He sat down on the edge of the roof and dangled his feet down. Wade plopped next to him, his expressive mask almost giving heart-eyes. Peter 3 tugged his own mask off and grinned. “You gonna gimmie kiss?”
Wade gasped, “Spiderman! What are you doing with your mask off?”
“Wade… nobody knows this face.” Peter 3 snorted, then remembered his doppelganger and paused. “Well…”
“Oh shit you saw a picture of Andrew Garfield, huh?”
“Oh My God Thank You!! Petey and Dr Parker were all just, oh I see a resemblance, but…! Then we figured out he’s like, mirror-image with his features? I mean it’s subtle, but…”
“No, I got that right away. I mean, I did a hard double-take the first time he popped up on my screen, but that was because I knew it wasn’t you, and I kinda thought maybe the TVA had pulled a fast one or just fucked up and like… this was all I was gonna get and… weeelll anyway…” Wade kicked his feet and looked down for something to change the subject. “Taco?”
Peter 3 huffed softly, not missing that veiled admission. “Yes, please.”
“I only did it once here. I wasn’t going to give up, it just… felt like the rug had been swept out and… I was gonna find you no matter what, Babyboy, promise.”
“And you did. We made it.” Peter 3 leaned in and kissed Wade’s jaw where he’d pulled his mask up to eat. Wade turned to face him, then tugged his mask up all the way and smiled softly, leaning in for a proper kiss.
“We did.” Wade sighed happily. “Want rooftop head?”
“Wade, no…” Peter 3 snorted. “Not tonight. Actually I might put the mask back on… we’re on Petey’s turf still, we haven’t really discussed the intricacies of like… how we’re gonna manage the Spiderman image. But public indecency is a no-go for sure.”
“Booo. But fair, I guess.”
Peter 3 picked his mask up and put it back on, rolling it up just enough to eat. “Like old times, eh?”
“Did you help some folks out tonight? I saw you stop and camp for a bit, I was almost gonna head over but… like there wasn’t enough action to suggest you’d been fighting, so…”
“You stalker,” Peter 3 teased. “Yeah, I stopped a mugger? He had a knife. And he fucking clocked me! Like- absolutely did not believe I was Spiderman! With my webs all over him, jumping down from the roof, the whole thing. Because he thinks Spiderman is still a kid. Apparently some people were saying Petey was 14 when his identity got blown up, and… anyway. I was kinda prepared to keep running into that kind of reaction but, nah… Then I caught a car from pulling out too fast into traffic when some idiot flew by that would’ve hit ‘em, and then I kinda stood out in the street and held up the oncoming cars so they could get out. Got flipped off and honked at while someone else called out I love you Spiderman! So yanno. Pretty quiet overall. Caught someone’s phone they dropped off a rooftop party railing.”
“I threatened a couple creeps that were lewding on some young ladies having a nice night out, they went home early.” Wade offered.
“Just threatened?” Peter 3 probed, munching one of the tacos.
“It did not take much! I’ve been out and about enough. They had to walk home of course, no uber is gonna pick you up with that mess in your pants.”
“Ha! Nice.”
“We need to get you a phone. And Dr Parker. Phone store tomorrow?”
“Agreed.”
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Maybe some hurt comfort with Jay and Tim? (romantic or platonic, both are good :3)
Possibly sickfic? Or comfort from nightmares? Those are my personal favourites, but honestly, whatever you wanna write I'll eat right up lol, just a big hurt comfort fan lol
(your writing is amazing btw!!)
Oooo, I have not written a lot of Jam and that is a CRIME. These bitches gay, here’s my mini sick fic essay on it.
Content Warnings and Tags: Sickness, Flu, Hurt/Comfort, Honestly could be seen as either but I think they’re gay, Minor Angst With A Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Self Esteem Issues
Word Count: 900 words
— —
Admittedly it takes Tim a little while to realize he’s sick. Coughing isn’t unusual for him, even before he started smoking, so he doesn’t think much of it when that starts up.
It’s not until he realizes his nose is so stuffed up that he can’t breathe through it and that every joint he has is aching that Tim processes the fact that he’s actually sick. A cold— or a mild flu? It’s one of the two. Nothing major but enough to make him a little more miserable than usual.
But it’s not his first rodeo. Tim does what he always does and buys the strongest sleepy cold medicine that doesn’t mess with his medicine that he can gets his hands on, takes some, and promptly passes out. Jay does ask a few questions but Tim waves him off and tells him he’ll be fine in the morning, because he always is.
Except he wakes up and he really doesn’t feel better. If anything, he feels worse— he’s sweating and kicking the blankets off doesn’t do anything to help. Blindly, he fumbles for more cold medicine but ends up accidentally batting it off the nightstand instead. A groan escapes him— just his luck.
A shadow looms over him. Tim looks over and sees Jay there, eyebrows knitting together.
“No offense but you kinda look terrible.”
Tim huffs, rubbing his face in an attempt to get rid of some of the sweat. “I feel terrible.” He admits, half mumbling. “Usually that works.”
“Well, what do you need?” Tim thinks for a second, then motions to the cold medicine on the floor. Jay gives him a look. “I… Don’t think that’s a good idea. You should probably like, eat and drink first? Hold on.”
Jay leaves and returns with a water bottle in hand, pushing it towards Tim. He fumbles to open it but Jay stops him before he can. “Hold on— sit up first.”
Tim groans again but shifts until he’s sitting up against the bed frame. Only then does Jay hand the bottle back, cap now unscrewed, and Tim takes a few sips before realizing how thirsty he is and sucks down the rest in no time. Jay’s eyes go wide.
“Guess you needed it.”
“Guess I did.” Tim admits. “I don’t think I can keep down anything we have though so maybe I should just stick with water.”
“I was thinking of buying soup. Any kind you like?”
“You— you don’t need to do that, Jay. I’m fine, it’ll pass. Don’t waste your money.”
Jay gives him an odd look. “‘Waste my money’?” He repeats, eyebrows scrunching together. “Buying you some soup when you’re sick isn’t wasting money, Tim. Just— what soup? I’m defaulting to chicken noodle otherwise.”
Tim hesitates but Jay doesn’t seem to be backing down. He sighs. “I like tomato soup. It’s good with toast.”
“I’ll grab some bread too then.”
“Jay.”
“Stop acting like I’m pulling teeth, Tim.” Jay huffs, shaking his head. “It’s just soup. It’s not a big deal.”
Tim’s mouth opens before it closes again. Jay’s eyebrows furrow. “What?”
“I just.” Tim struggles for the right words. “It’s been a while.” He settles on.
“Been a while since what?”
“Since… Anyone took care of me while I was sick.”
“…Oh.” Jay says after a beat. “That… Oh.”
There’s a long silence between them. Then abruptly, Jay grabs his keys and his wallet and points at Tim.
“Twenty minutes.” He says. “Don’t move. Unless you need to go to the bathroom or something.”
Then he’s out the door, moving like he’s on an actual time limit.
—
“What,” Tim says slowly, staring at the bag Jay just dumped on the bed, “The fuck.”
“So I got a few other things besides soup and bread.” Jay tells him, as if it wasn’t already obvious enough. “This cold pack is amazing, trust me, I used to have one just like it. It’s reusable so it’s an investment really. I got some orange juice because— honestly I forget what it’s good for but my mom always made me drink it when I was sick so it’s probably good for something. The Tylenol is good for fevers, saltines are always a good snack and especially with soup, and the chocolate… That’s just for fun honestly. You could probably use a treat.”
“Jay…” Tim doesn’t know what to say. The best he manages is, “Why?”
“Well— you said nobody had taken care of you while you were sick in a while so I figured you might need like, the full experience.” Jay rubs the back of his neck, almost sheepish. “It’s kinda been a while since I took care of anyone though so uh, I don’t really know what I’m doing so we can just figure it out together. I was thinking we could watch TV while you ate or something? Good of a start as— oh shit, are you crying?”
Tim rapidly blinks, wiping his face. “Maybe.” He chokes. “Fuck, Jay. Thank you.”
“It’s really not a big deal.” Jay insists.
“It kinda is to me though.” Tim laughs, swallowing thickly as he meets his gaze. “Seriously. Thank you.”
Jay smiles at him. “Of course.” He says, and Tim feels his heart flutter.
He doesn’t usually have people taking care of him like this, but he thinks it would be nice to get used to it.
— —
Anddd that’s my short lil sick fic. I feel like Tim needs to be pampered a little. He deserves it. Jay is gonna give that to him.
Thank you for the request, feel free to send another, and I hope you liked it!!
#marble hornets#marble hornets fanfiction#jay merrick#tim wright#mh jam#sick fic#SB Speaks#SB Writes#funny little sick fic is HERE#sorry it took a hot minute#I’ve been distracted#but! hope you like!!#these bitches are gay TO ME
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OC Description Tag
I am also counting this as todays OCtober since... once again i wrote too much lol
I was tagged by the always amazing @card-queen here: https://www.tumblr.com/card-queen/731816443929346048/oc-description-tag
Rules: Share an excerpt from your WIP that describes one of your OCs.
So.... I don't have any WIPs.... yet... but yeah I wrote this for the meme and it's too long but I hope you enjoy!
Edit: I guess i should add a mild content warning or mention of trafficking and death. I tried not to be too descriptive.
Shadowlord
The ink had yet to dry on the newly completed contract when the guard outside of this secret room was heard thrashing around.
With a simple glance from an annoyed boss the bodyguard moved to see what was going on, it only took a few steps before he keeled over foaming from the mouth.
Laughter filled the room from every corner causing all in attendance to rise and draw weapons. “Wow looks like I’ll be getting a bonus today” the young girls voice moved all about like a ghost with no form. Another one of the hired goons fell over, face purple and bloated.
“Shadowlord…” one of the younger criminals muttered under his breath. Trembling in his boots and trying to stand in a more well-lit area.
“Stop that, it’s only an urban legend… find the source of that voice and kill her” the large man grabbed the contract and started to roll it up, he may have been annoyed two of his men were already dead but all that mattered was his own life. “5000 gold to whoever brings me her head.”
“Now now I’m worth much more then that” this time the mans right hand man hit the ground with a hard thud. “If you are going to ask them to throw away their lives you should at least pay them accordingly” she giggled.
The young criminal who worried about dealing with the ghost voice dropped his weapon and ran off. “Please! spare me” he could be heard yelling as he ran past his dead former comrades.
“Oh, looks like you don’t have that much loyalty, that will make this easier” the girl jumped out of the middle of floor as if she truly were a ghost. The only thing more shocking than her entrance was her appearance. Dressed in hot pink miniskirt and black top, it was like she wasn’t even trying to hide. Her piercing green eye surveyed the two remaining criminals. Her smile was almost catlike as her pink and blond hair bounced with every movement. “I am a little surprised that a trafficker was making deals with the mayor, but I guess we were due for an election” Her smile grew wider. “Any final words?” she spoke as cheerfully as if she were asking where they should go to eat.
“I’ve heard of you” the man behind the desk stood up. “You’re an assassin with the guild then” The trafficker sighed. “A pink Elf with the fashion sense of a child making quite a mockery of the guild, stealing all the high-ticket jobs. You will do anything for money well” he grabbed the coins that were original for the exchange of ‘goods’. “This should be enough to shoo you away.”
She just giggled. “A true elf would be quite offended by you trying to lump me in with them, I’m closer to a demon after all…. But you do have a point, I’ll do anything for money” she moved closer without any hesitation a slight bounce in her step. “But you know?” She glanced over at the mayor as he started clawing his neck, he tried to make a run for it but was dead after only a few steps. “When those kids I rescued ask me to take you out… I just had to do it for free” yet she made no move to attack. “So, I’ll ask again, one last time… any final words?”
The dread hit suddenly, trying to breathe was suddenly much more difficult. He looked down where he could feel a small cut on his leg near where his shadow was cast. He could see the veins on his arms bulging as his body struggled to get every bit of oxygen left. “Who… are you?”
“What a waste, you were already told who I am… I’m Arianna… the Shadowlord” her devilish smile would be the last thing he saw. She moved over to take his pulse and gave a little nod satisfied as a job well done. “Though I will still take the money, Orphanages cost way more then I expected.” she muttered as she grabbed the sack full of gold coins and slipped into the corpse’s shadow.
There was one last loose end. “I should get that guard who ran off to show me where the kids being sold are. I’d rather that then kill him after he was so entertaining” but it was best to let him calm down, otherwise he may do something stupid like try to fight her. It would have to wait till morning.
“Boss may be mad but at least I got to test out my new poison” she giggled to herself before heading back to report the chaos she had just singlehandedly caused.
I'll be posting this on toyhouse too but yeah I tag.... uh....
@greywaysart (figure you can post it on whichever blog is more appropriate)
@cloudedpoetry if you want i know you are very busy.
anyone else who wants to... again you don't need to write as much as i did i was just doing two things at once.
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Chapter 5 - Beyond Light and Shadow (Tumblr Backup)
<- Previous Chapter
First Chapter (Includes Tags, Warnings, etc)
Next Chapter ->
Silence hung for a moment upon the shock and harshness of the Kenbumajin’s words, beckoning the other to come out and fight already.
Whether any of them liked it or not, there was going to be a brawl between the two, and it had to be between only them. No interfering, no support, nada. Even if it was awfully tempting when things would get dire.
“O’ great king from the sun, come forth, Kenbumajin, Karna!” Chiharu began to initiate, the full summoning call being heard loud and clear, without any interference. “Make them fear our power!”
For a mere moment, the swirl of solar flare lit up the cemetery like it was bathed by the might of a summer afternoon’s sun once more. But once the flames died down, the familiar gold plated Kenbumajin made himself present once more, those matching gold eyes tensing up as he looked down.
Usually, Karna wouldn’t hesitate to mark his presence with a rude string of words, but he held back. Perhaps waiting for the right moment, a rare bit in politeness. That or crafting something extra potent to throw the way of his younger and (in his words) snobby brat of a brother.
It was best to not waste a moment longer. Any time spent twiddling thumbs would result in everything being burnt to a crisp.
“Silvery son of the storm, please lend me your strength!” The words effortlessly flowed into Touma’s mind as he shouted, the voltaic cyan key being inserted into the Ogre Watch with a sense of power. “Possession, Kenbumajin, Arjuna!!”
Summoned forth for the first time in ages, in a precise strike of electrifying energy, the blue haired Kenbumajin appeared. Despite the tensions, he remained poised and calm, even if there was a slight twitch in his hands.
With the first movements coming from Karna, the two quickly clashed together like thunder and lightning.
Silver bolts of lightning, golden arrows of flame, like yin and yang, night and day. A storm of two different kinds of light, the harsh rays of the summer sun, the cool, volting cracks of lightning during a spring thunderstorm, fighting over who would be the brightest of them all.
Voltaic arrows managed to hit the opposing Kenbumajin, just like as legend told, the archer that never missed.
Though, the child of the sun was no slouch either, his own infinite supply of arrows landing a few fiery strikes on the other. Each strike resulted in an unparalleled shiteating grin.
“The first time I’ve been in this form in ages, and it’s against you,” Arjuna sighed, seeming to be annoyed with the whole fight. “Can we just get this over with? I’m only doing this so you don’t hurt those children.”
“Oh, am I just a bore to you now? Mister best archer in the whole wide world sick of having to prove his worth to his own, much cooler brother?” A higher pitched, condescending string began, the solar flare Kenbumajin’s once jovial face turning into something more grim and serious.
“If you wanna end this so badly, then just shoot me clean through the neck like you did back in the Throne Wars, smartass,” Karna beckoned in an uncharacteristically cold manner.
Keeping his composure, Arjuna stood firm, still gripping to his bow. But Touma could tell that without a doubt, the legendary Kenbumajin was nervous out of his wits end. How he managed to stay so composed, he had no idea…
“Silence!” Arjuna finally spoke out. “I can’t ever relive that moment again, not now, not ever…”
“I guess I’ll just have to end you myself then!”
But then, there was a wrench thrown into the fated duel. It got the hot headed Kenbumajin to stop with a puzzled look on his face.
Or rather, a bit of sparkly pink Yojitsu was casted, glimmers of bright pink striking the boisterous Kenbumajin.
That could only mean…
“Ayame!?” Akinori yelled, everyone looking to face the girl. Goodness, the young gumshoes hadn’t seen her in person since last year. “You probably shouldn’t interfere, this is a pretty bad fight and you could get hurt—“
“You stop hurting my friend right this instant, mister!” Ayame demanded with a shout frightening enough to make everyone go quiet for a moment. Karna turned to face the girl.
“Huh, never seen you before, didn’t know you brats networked so easily,” Karna commented. This was followed by a slight snort. “What are you gonna do next, ask me if I want to go to a tea party?”
The frilly girl took a stronger stance. “Apologies for my rudeness earlier, sir. Please stop hurting my friend right this instant, mister!”
A much larger heart was casted by Ayame, and radiated enough power that it needed to be punched rather than flicked off. It caused a greater impact as well, if it was followed by an attack name and a change of background, it would have been enough to annihilate the average monster of the week.
While the yojistsu wasn’t enough to defeat such a powerful Kenbumajin, it was enough to make him get disoriented.
“Now’s your chance!” Ayame gestured in encouragement. “I’ll get to explaining in a bit!”
Following the encouragement, Arjuna took his stance, readying the legendary bow. An arrow pointed right at Karna, not with the intent to kill, but to get him to just admit defeat and retreat.
“Behold! Typhoon Bolt Oversurge!” Arjuna yelled, wind ramping up behind him as he fired off an arrow that was an entire thunderstorm condensed into a single arrow. Bolts of lightning, the hard hitting downpour, hitting Karna right in the arm.
The fiery Kenbumajin seethed as the arrow hit his arm. He had to retreat, even if he hated that very idea. But not before getting the last word seething all the while.
“You might have won this time, but don’t think I’m going to lose next time, asshole. When we duel, the sun will be shining, and you’re gonna be so sorry,” Karna seethed, retreating back where he came from.
With the threat gone, there was no need for the lightning Kenbumajin to be summoned, and thus, Touma was returned. Shirogane appeared as well, looking slightly inconvenienced but accepting it with a bit of a shrug.
“First thing’s first, Ayame and Dorothea, was it? How did you two end up here?” Natsume asked. Dorothea gave a nod as Ayame, who was able to speak the same language as her friends, was able to clear things up.
“It was after school and me and Dorothea were going to retrieve a paper one of her teachers discarded rudely,” Ayame began, trying to recall the events. “Then some sort of bird-like shadow started to attack us, Dorothea ended up stumbling into this weird circular mirror with a purple frame. I followed after her, and we ended up here.”
“A mirror that sent you here…I think I remember my grandma talking about something like that,” Akinori pondered.
“But that bird, that must have been a youkai for sure,” Natsume thought, giving a bit of a yawn. “What time is it?”
“00:17,” Touma answered, looking at his phone. “Or 12:17 am I believe in the 12 hour system.”
Everyone stared in shocked silence. Gods, they were out extremely late, weren’t they? Any group discussions on the mirror and the bird could be done on phones with group chats and the like. Natsume quickly suggested that Ayame and Dodrthea crash at her place for the moment until they can get all of this sorted out. At least they had tomorrow off.
Unlocking the front door, the three girls had hoped everyone was fast asleep so they could all pile in without anyone noticing.
The feeling of the door not opening quite right due to someone already trying to open the door was enough to turn Natsume’s blood ice cold. The least worst would be Keisuke who’s already used to all these supernatural shenanigans, and knew to stay quiet.
Panic began to beat through the girl’s heart to see her mother opening the door, still haven’t gone to bed yet but looked ready to.
“Natsume…why were you out so late?” Natsume’s mother inquired, looking even more shocked to see Ayame was there. “And aren’t you supposed to be in France? Is that one of your friends from France, how did you get here?”
“There was a purple mirror and—“ Ayame tried to explain, Natsume quickly shushed her with a look of ‘she has no idea about any of this youkai stuff and will think we’re crazy if we tell it straight’ in her eyes.
“Oh she’s just here for a brief visit with her roommate! J-Jetlag sure is disorienting isn’t it Ayame and Dorothea?” Natsume hastily tried to say, quickly leading the girls to her room to crash for the night, knowing that she would have a lot of explaining to do in the morning.
Unbeknownst to the girls, the older woman just stood in silence after closing and locking the front door after the girls crashed in. She always saw Natsume (or in some rare cases, Keisuke) with that white wristwatch. How very nostalgic.
Purple mirror, and traveling long distances so easily. She knew what that meant, it was unbelievably convenient when she was a girl, especially with the ones in St. Peanutsburg.
But those days were long gone, even giving her watch to a certain friend of hers. She was curious if repairs could be done, but it was more of she didn’t want to think about the horrors that made her no longer want to see such specters.
And yet, she’s haunted by it. Gods, even her own child is hanging around her old friends, she has to pretend to not see them.
However, today was the day to finally face some old demons. Eyes glazed with hesitation, a nervous finger hovering over a contact that had barely been used.
The quiet rings of the phone were deafening, reminding the older woman that she was going to have to face the inevitable, and face it right now.
“H-Hey, Inaho, sorry for calling so late, it’s a bit of an emergency,”
“You know me, midnight is when I’m the widest awake. You haven’t called in ages, Fumika. What’s the matter?”
“I’m going to need my watch back if you’ve finished those repairs, one of Natsume’s friends, she got transported here all the way from France by what I presume to be an Ungaikyo.”
“Gotcha, youkai activity has been ramping up a lot lately. I think the King of A Hundred Demons is making a comeback,”
Meanwhile, Natsume, while trying to get some sleep, could hear her mother conversing over the phone. Whatever she was talking about on the other end, she could not hear a word from where she was in the house.
But her mother’s voice sounded grave.
“What?! …I can’t believe the seal and curse forged by you, me, and Keita’s medals and summoning capabilities from our watches would break so soon…I thought it would be well past our lifetimes when it would finally break!”
“I know, we lost against the King of the Hundred Demons…But he had one hell of an army…those Four Calamity Generals that impersonated generals from the three kingdoms era…their god king that was unbelievably powerful from all the strife and conflict from the past millennia…the dragon that could cause droughts by just existing in an area…plus the guy himself and his sister were no pushovers!”
“We had nearly a decade of befriending and mastering youkai and everything…and we still couldn’t completely defeat that hundred demon king! If only…what’s her name, Hebihime, hadn’t plotted to summon him…”
“Yeah…Yeah I’m hoping those rumors are all false in the end. Maybe it’s just an impersonator to get us all worried…”
Natsume eavesdropped with quite the surprised look on her face. All along, her parents had been involved with youkai?! Not to mention whatever their final battle was, it went horribly wrong, and it may be up to the detectives to pick up the pieces?
Could they really do it? Sure, the Sacred King’s Armory are incredibly strong youkai without a doubt! But are they strong enough to face a demon king with who knows how many horrific and powerful calamities?
Trying to sleep it off would be the best bet. It was probably nothing, but it was still bugging Natsume.
She could see visions of a king so immensely powerful, one that all the top one hundred of the most vile demons flocked to. He was their king, their master, and all of them would bend to his cruel will.
As for Ayame and Dorothea, being warped back to Japan wasn’t exactly what they had in the cards for their day off. Surely with all the youkai Ayame had dealt with, they could probably hitch a quick emergency ride on Suzaku if things got dire.
Though before trying to knock out for the night, a quick post on Usuranura
about what had happened wouldn’t hurt. However, when loading the page there was a large notice on the submit a sighting page.
Hello, we have temporarily closed the submission box for the next 12 hours due to constant spamming by a user seeming to evade any and all IP bans I impose on this anonymous user.
If you see a 21 month old girl named Moriko please send it to this email address, so I can hopefully contact her worried parents. Who, again, keep spamming (I know you’re worried, trust me I know what it’s like, but I want to make sure sightings don’t get buried!)
Indeed, there had been a spam of messages that were deleted upon refresh, showing rather jumbled writing pleading for help in finding Moriko. Small, wears pink, has fluffy, frizzy latte foam colored hair. The text of the messages seemed to be pretty scrambled, either due to panic, lack of finesse with touch screens due to long nails or inexperience, or both.
Either way, even with the panic someone had in their heart, sleep needed to come first after this long, strange, and eventful day. Even if it was only for a mere wink of sleep, everyone needed it.
Yet, despite hunkering for a peaceful slumber, the girls had a feeling another bird was looming by.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dawn’s sunlight only barely started to crack through the horizon when Ayame was woken up by Natsume’s mother knocking on the door gently, asking for her name in particular.
“Ms. Amano, what do you need? It’s really early…” Ayame asked, rubbing her eyes.
In the older woman’s hand was a watch, a lot like the ones everyone in the detective agency had. However, instead of going around the wrist, it was tied by an azure chord, contrasting nicely with the pearlescent whites and rosy pinks that made up the watch’s casing.
“I’ve heard about how you ended up back here, and, well…” She tried to explain, Natsume joining in with her friend.
“Mom…I heard you last night talking with Saki’s Mom…What on earth happened and have you been able to see youkai this entire time?”
Knowing that it was going to be a long, difficult conversation ahead, the three got ready for the day and moved into the living room to discuss things.
“The short answer is…Yes, I’ve been able to see youkai since I was at least 11, during the most eventful and strange summer of my life,” Natsume’s mother began to weave her yarn. “Not only myself, but your father and Saki’s mother as well. We were Watchers that were able to stop just about any threat without much issue!”
“However, there was one threat that nearly wiped us…The King of One Hundred Demons. He was the leader of a faction during the Great Throne Wars long ago, with the intent of annihilating the human race. An…incident when your father and I were in our last year of high school occurred when a youkai girl with the title of Hebihime
“We were experienced and would not let him attempt to reach that goal again, but it took literally everything. Our medals, summoning capabilities of our watches, all of it just to seal him, and in order to ensure he’d never return again, your father gave up his memories of youkai to enact a powerful curse.”
“It seems that curse, one that would not let him reawaken until humanity was able to play god by one to one clone a deceased human to perfection, has been broken…” Finally, the woman concluded. “That demon king is no joke. Some of the strongest youkai we came face to face with were merely his underlings.”
“I never knew any of that, I’m sorry you had to go through all that, mom. I’d understand why you never brought it up until now…” Natsume answered gently, allowing her mother to hug her gently.
“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, but I hope the rumors of the resurrection of that demon king are a hoax,” The girl’s mother responded back, trying to hold back tears. “I cannot let him hurt you or anyone ever again.”
Natsume was quiet for a moment, breaking away from the embrace to put her hands on her mother’s shoulders. “I know what we may face may be horrifying, but if we can beat Soranaki, we can beat this King of A Hundred Demons guy no problem. Just…trust in us, alright?”
“Yeah!” Ayame added in. “We’ll make him very sorry that he messed with us!”. Dorothea nodded, not really understanding due to the language barrier, but tried to piece things together from body language and tone in the voices.
“Thank you all, it’s painful to remember that time…but I remember a possible weak point,” Natsume’s mother began. “A possible weakness of The King of a Hundred demons, or better known as—“
Any overview of the demon king was cut short by a deafeningly loud screech.
“What was that?!” Fumika commented, Natsume and Ayame scrambling for their watches to try and figure out the source of the sound, though the latter looked a bit confused.
“Mrs. Amano, how do I use this thing?” Ayame asked, fumbling with the watch until pressing a button that not only flipped open the watch’s main lid, but shined a fairly bright light and made a few radar-like bleeps.
With both watches’ lights shining, the youkai had made itself clear to be some sort of monstrous owl, aglow with blue spectral flame. It let out another horrifying sound, making the damned screams of a barn owl sound like a gentle serenade of a songbird. In terms of size, it was pretty small compared to other youkai, a bit larger than a Great Grey Owl, but was much smaller than, say, Suzaku.
“Tatarimokke!” The youkai wasted no time getting to introductions, letting the house know right away who it was and what they meant.
Even if it was pretty small, it knew exactly what Natsume was doing when she instinctively grabbed for the arc of the (mostly) reliable red feline. The feathered fiend jumped onto Natsume, trying to claw at her with its sharp talons. It was enough to make her drop the arc, but before Tatarimokke could even get a scratch in, it was met with a hearty whack of a rolled up magazine.
“Get off my daughter you overgrown turkey!” Fumika cursed, trying to keep a level head but treating the monstrous youkai like it was a small bird that had flown in by accident. “Girls, focus on getting this thing outside! I just got new tiling installed in the kitchen yesterday, I can’t afford to see you or my hard work get hurt!”
As instructed, the girls chased Tatarimokke out of the house and right into the front yard. The further away they could get away from the neighborhood, the better given how there would be more space to do battle against this beast.
Without much or any hesitation, Dorothea grabbed a nearby fallen branch, and started smacking Tatarimokke with it.
“Dorothea! That’s not a normal owl! You could get hurt!” Ayame spoke, knowing she was the only one between her and Natsume that could speak fluent French. Dorothea kept standing her ground.
“I know, but I heard a stick is effective on fending off crows, so it must work on owls?” Dorothea admitted, Ayame being the only one who understood her French. There had to be a youkai capable of breaking these weird language barriers… “But I think with a bit of this, you guys should be able to get in after it without being swooped in!”
One hard bonk and the owl was down, it’s screechy breath wheezy and angry. It knew once it got back up, it would try to tear these girls into shreds.
Right as Tatarimokke was about to get back up to slash apart the girls, it heard a voice. A voice it recognized.
“Don’t hurt her! Moriko, it’s me!” A voice cried out, a voice with the strain of a father who’s voice had gotten exhausted and hoarse trying to find his child.
“Oh…you must be the one who was spamming Usuranura last night…” Ayame commented, looking at the panicked and running figure calling the child’s name. He shambled to try to intervene, clearly exhausted from tirelessly looking for the individual named Moriko.
Though to one person, it rang a bell.
“F-Fukuro!? H-how are you even alive!?” Natsume gasped, absolutely flabbergasted that such a youkai had managed to survive.
But it was true, Fukurou was there, alive and mostly well. He still wore the same attire he did two years ago, though a bit more tattered and with a few stains of blood from trying to take control of Fudo-Muyoou. The tips of his feathers were permanently a dark teal, the same for his red tipped, talon-like hands. Or rather, hand, as quite visibly he lacked a right hand and part of his right forearm.
The owl rested its face in the humanoid’s arms, tears forming in it’s vacant, soul piercing eyes. Finally, it cried out something that wasn’t a shrill screech.
“Papa…Papa I’m sorry…” The youkai cried, the ominous energy fading away as all what was left was something that was the polar opposite of the monstrous and destructive owl. It was a small child, only about the age of a toddler. She was dressed in a kimono and hifu, forged from the finest silks dyed in adorable pastels, and adorned with a few flower-like accessories. Even a few bits of teal to pop out from the pastel pinks, to match alongside her father.
“There there Moriko…” Fukurou spoke with such a gentle softness. “I know it wasn’t your fault…I’m just glad you’re safe.”
“Girls, are you alright?” Fumika stepped out, wondering what all the commotion was. Just as things seemed to end well, there was a curveball thrown in for good measure.
Appearing was a certain someone who carried the title of Snake King proudly, his blue, slit-like eyes staring down with intimidation. He was pursuing Fukurou it seems, given the older owl’s reaction to the very presence of the Han’yo. Even Fumika seemed to blink for a moment. Something about him rung a bell.
“L-Lord K-Kaira! I-I can explain! I-It wasn’t my faul–” Fukurou tried to answer, only for his daughter to stand up between the two adults.
“Don’t hurt papa!” A shrill from Moriko boldly opposed the snake king, without the knowledge that he held the title of Great King for over a year in Enma’s stead. Had Fukurou not held her back, her tiny fists would have absolutely tried to punch the half snake right in the shins. “Papa’s nice! Papa made me not angry! Dushala made me a meanie for no reason!”
Kaira and Fumika in particular looked shocked at what the owlet girl had confessed.
“…I see, so she’s the one behind this…all those rumors are true after all…damn the gods…” Kaira cursed, giving a sigh. His face became a little lighter as he looked at the younger youkai. A quite awkward but clearly earnest smile graced his face. “I am not going to hurt you or your father. Though with what happened to you, I got worried.”
“Don’t worry, mister snakey man,” Moriko answered swiftly. “Papa keeps me safe, new friends keep me safe.”
With a bit of non-verbal gestures, she was allowed to wiggle out of her father’s grasp to toddle over to Natsume. Her teeny tiny clawed hands holding an arc that she was just barely able to grip. The braided girl gave a smile, taking the arc and saying “Thank you, Moriko” while ruffling the fluff of hair.
“Right, about the whole dying and coming back thing,” Kaira began to explain. “I was in charge of being the final word in a lot of punishments towards youkai that had caused trouble around when the Soranaki incident was happening. I don’t know what had gotten over me at that moment…but I somehow could feel that causing youkai to go berserk wasn’t something Fukurou was doing willingly or freely.
“I decided that I would allow him a second chance in raising Tatarimokke, a youkai born from a deceased human infant due to any number of reasons, both natural and manmade. If the child perished or was harmed by his own hand, I would immediately take his soul to Infinite Hell myself.”
“But, you’ve been doing a good job, Fukurou. Spoiling her, dare I say, those silks aren’t cheap and you haven’t gotten anything new in a while…”
“Well, if it isn’t broken, don’t fix it,” Fukurou concluded, absolutely relieved he wasn’t going to be dragged back. “But, it perhaps may be a bit dangerous now.”
“I hope you never have to know her name,” Kaira concluded. “It is best you try to hide yourselves as Enma and I fear something horrifying could take place in this town once more.”
Just about Kaira was about to make his leave, a voice called for him.
“Wait! Lord Kaira, is it? We ended up here by accident due to a mirror kept by one of Dorothea’s teachers, is it possible you can take us back to France? Pretty please?” Ayame explained, Kaira pausing for a bit.
“Your teacher has an Ungiyako? I thought there was a Faerie that would serve the same purpose. I can take you back no problem, though I encourage you to try to see if there’s a way to fend yourself. Youkai are everywhere, after all.”
———————————-----------------------------------------------------
Of course the moment Goku Kyubi asks about Shutendouji leading the way, he takes her to a deserted mountain where there’s no sign of life, and even the spiritual energies are pretty low. The kitsune’s mismatched eyes looked at the oni, a displeased look in her eyes.
“So…Where’s that big fat papa you said you would lead me to?” Goku Kyubi inquired. Shutendouji shot a bit of a stone cold look back at her.
“Yeah so, about that,” Shuten answered, azure, flame-like energy starting to form around his arm. “All the stuff about Ibuki Douji, all his backstories, that was a load of crap I just made up. I’d figure such a wise goddess like yourself would pick up on all the inconsistencies, but guess not.”
If she was merely just calmly angry before, Goku Kyubi was absolutely seething and she made it clear with her high pitched rant of a voice.
“You STUPID brute!” She shouted, a force of energy knocking her back before she could rant some more, but she still tried to stand firm. “How dare you insult AND hurt a goddess like myself, and the queen of a hundred demons herself for that matter!?”
“I may be stupid but I’m not an idiot,” Shutendouji bluntly gave a shockingly levelheaded response to the festering angry fox. “Not so much of an idiot to let you over to all that I have left.”
“Then what is it you have left, sacreligious idiot!?” Goku Kyubi kept her ranting game going and going strong. She managed to jump up and grabs her humanoid hands around Shutendouji’s neck, her expression becoming much more enraged. “You better tell me the truth or else you’ll never wish you messed with the Great Divine Almighty Goddess Goku Kyubi!”
Shutendouji merely sat silent, Goku Kyubi gritting her teeth as brightly colored red and blue energy casted from her hands, and with a simple chant, put the oni in his place, unable to move.
“Come on, speak up!” Goku Kyubi commanded, her tone becoming impatient by the second. She kept casting sparks of ember in hopes to get him to finally speak up. “Unless you were birthed from the void and nothingness, you have to have a parent!”
“Mo…Momiji…She’s my mother, and you’ll be sorry if you try messing with me…” Shutendouji managed to mutter after a bit of prodding, the kitsune roaring into laugher
“Bah! What a joke!” Goku Kyubi laughed. “You, the son of the legendary Momiji?! Don’t joke with me, just because you’re an Oni doesn’t mean you two are related! Come on, she was a scholar, leader, and warrior who wielded a youseiken, you’re merely a low ranking frat boy compared to her!”
Just then, a thought came into the Kitsune’s mind, a sinister grin appearing on her face. “Tell you what, regardless of if you’re related to her or not, I have the perfect use for you after all,”
Using her magic to make massive claws out of red and blue flame, she grasped Shutendouji to make sure this time he could not run away or lead her astray.
“W-Wait, what?! What are you gonna do!?” Shutendouji demanded, Goku Kyubi fumbling out a little portable mirror to head back to the palace lair.
“You’ll see, and perhaps if you really are related to her, I will be sorry. But I’ll outsmart her and make you actually useful for once!”
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Shadow of Yourself [9/18]
Prompt: “You’ve changed, Eli. I barely even know who you are right now.”
A/N: thank you all for your patience with this chapter! i hope to go back to posting regularly from now on :)
Based off of: Cobra Kai 03x04, 03x05 and 03x06 Warnings: some swear words (because tumblr apparently doesn’t like that), bullying, poorly written fight scene…, etc. Pairing: Eli Moskowitz x F!Reader
Tag List: @moonydrafts - @ashwhowrites - @traveleraroundsworld - @truly-abysmal - @likecherriesinthespring - @hollxe1 - @asonofpeter - @scarlett-verse - @musically-ambiguous - @kayda1 - @moon-zoons - @dwcode - @day-dreamsinthedark - @leilani788 - @silvermagnolias - @hawkinsavclub - @animewolflover278 - @gruffle1 - @b-tchymoon - @maggiecc - @beetea38 - @hawkinsavclub1983 - @crpytids - @embersparklz - @kimilight - @httpjiikook - @marauderssmut - @fyckcore - @multinci - @lqveabby - @oh-well-whatever-nevermind - @redskull199987 - @silvermagnolias - @shortneko - @okjaeminn - @thecyclonetragedy - @vamproq - @siriusfahey - @cobrakaigirlie - @kaylinfayezink - @oursuh - @aphroditelxver - @minl0u - @cherrywinepoison - @bath1lda - @fixalice - @fallsofserinity - @maisieibae
YOU’RE REALLY SORRY?:
“You’re sure you’re ready to go back?”
“I can’t avoid school forever, mom.”
Shaking her head, your mom sighs. “You missed one day,” she reminds softly, “I’m sure one more wouldn’t be the end of the world.”
Laughing lightly, you shake your head, pulling the straps of your backpack further up. “I’ll be okay,” you assure softly, smiling to reinforce your words. “I promise. And I’ll call you if anything comes up.”
“Anything?”
“Anything.”
Nodding, your mother eases, letting you move to make your way out.
Just as you move to leave though, you pause. “Mom?”
Turning to you, she raises a brow; “yeah, honey?”
“Thanks for... coming back and um, staying. I know it’s hard for you to get time off,” you whisper, fiddling with your fingers slightly. “I’ve always known that, and I’m sorry if I made you think I didn’t understand.”
Touched at your words, your mother reaches forward, brushing a strand of your hair back and tucking it behind your ear as she smiles at you. “Thank you, honey. But, you were right. I should be home more and I want to be there for you, okay?”
Warmed at her words, you nod.
“Okay.”
-
For the first time in what feels like forever, a genuine smile spreads across your lips at the sight before you.
“Miguel!”
Turning at the sound of a familiar voice, Miguel eases slightly at the sight of you. You’re all too quick to rush over to him, moving to hug him as he returns the affection. When you pull back, you can’t help but laugh; “look at you!”
“Ah, look at me,” he laughs, gesturing towards himself with a shake of his head.
“Does it feel weird to be back?”
“A little,” he shrugs, “I guess I just wasn’t expecting to be back so soon.”
You nod–it made perfect sense. A few days ago, he couldn’t walk, and now look at him. You haven’t been able to see him since before he’d gotten released from the hospital, and when you’d visited him then, he’d seemed quite defeated. It was a sight you weren’t quite used to seeing on Miguel, and had done your best to at least try to cheer him up the best you could. Now, it looked like he didn’t need that anymore.
There was almost a new light to him–completely reinvigorated.
“Well, I’m happy for you, Miguel,” you smile brightly, eyes crinkling with warmth as he flushes slightly at the praise. “I mean, what you did–”
“El Serpiente!”
You freeze at the voice, knowing who it is before you even have to turn around and see. It feels like everything in your body freezes then, and you barely register the look on Miguel’s face as concern floods his gaze at your reaction to Eli of all people. He’d known things were estranged between the two of you, but there was almost a sense of fear in your eyes as you heard his voice and that… that was odd.
No matter how mad or upset you were with Eli, Miguel had never seen you look afraid at the sound of his voice.
“Y/N, are you–”
“I gotta go,” you say suddenly, snapping out of your own revere as you turn to meet Miguel’s gaze. Forcing a smile on your face, you shake your head; “sorry, I forgot I was supposed to meet up with a-a friend before class. I’ll see you later, okay?”
You’re turning around before he can say otherwise, and you didn’t realize just how close Eli was because the second you turn, he’s right there. He looks just as shocked to see you, but just as his lips part to say something, you’re rushing past him, head ducking down to tuck into your chin as you all but run away.
Faltering just briefly, Eli turns back to Miguel, smiling as he holds his arm out in greeting.
“What’s up?”
“Welcome back, man,” Eli grins.
“Feels good to be back.”
“They give you bionic legs or some shit?”
Laughing, Miguel shakes his head; “no, same old boring human legs.”
“Oh yeah? Can you throw down?” Eli taunts teasingly, holding his fists out before him, “gotta defend that title.” Laughing, Miguel brushes his hand away, shaking his head as Eli grins. “Gotta get through me first.”
Miguel nods, faltering for a moment as his eyes flicker past Eli, in the direction you’d gone. “Is everything good with Y/N? I mean, she kind of ran off.”
A guilty look passes through Eli’s eyes, one Miguel doesn’t notice as he quickly shrugs it off. “I don’t know,” Eli says plainly, feigning ignorance. “We haven’t talked in a while, so…” His voice trails, and Miguel nods at that, figuring he’d find you later and try to figure out what was the matter. “Besides,” Eli cuts in through his thoughts, “dude, Cobra Kai is crushing it right now.”
“I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you about that–”
Just then, the school bell rings.
“I-I’ll talk to you about it at lunch.”
“All right, sure.”
-
Making your way into the cafeteria, the first thing you notice is Miguel and Eli.
And the fact that things seem tense.
Last you’d seen, things had seemed cool between the both of them. Of course, Miguel didn’t know what Miguel had done to Demetri, so it only made sense he’d think things were as they usually were.
Did he know?
If so, who had told him?
Was it Demetri?
That’d make the most sense–all it’d take is one look at Demetri for Miguel to wonder just exactly how he’d broken his arm. If that was the case and Miguel knew the truth… well, then obviously Miguel wasn’t so blind by Cobra Kai like Eli was to believe that that was okay.
And that, at the very least, filled you with some hope.
“Hey, guys!” Pulled from your thoughts at the sound of Kyler’s voice, your brows furrow as you glance to your right. “Check this guy out. Standing around with a d*ck in his hand.”
Lips parting at the sight of Demetri, you frown when the entire cafeteria erupts into laughter, blatantly mocking the boy. He’s ripping his arm from Kyler’s grasp in the next second, head bowing in defeat as he makes his way out of the cafeteria. You spare one more glance Eli and Miguel’s way, before shaking your head, rushing off in the direction Demetri had gone.
“Demetri!”
He promptly ignores you, turning around a corner as you roll your eyes in frustration.
“Demetri, just wait a second!”
Picking up the speed in your step, it only takes you a minute more before you reach the boy, promptly grabbing him by the shoulder to stop him. He huffs as you do, turning to face you with a heavy frown on his lips as you meet his gaze. “Are you okay?”
“Just peachy,” he answers, sarcasm dripping from his tone as he holds up his cast and the d*ck now drawn on it for you to see.
Biting your lip, you swallow thickly; “I could… sign it somehow? Try to make it better?”
“Nah, don’t worry about it,” he shrugs, “there’s absolutely nothing that could make this better.”
-
Making your way up to the building Robby had told you to meet him at, you pause at the sight of not only Johnny Lawrence, but Mr. Larusso as well. They haven’t noticed you yet, and they both seem to be in a pretty intense conversation, completely oblivious to everyone around them, including Robby who just made his way out.
“Seriously?”
They both turn to look at him, their expressions softening as you stand a little further back, unsure whether you should make yourself known or keep quiet.
“Robby,” Mr. Larusso calls at the same time Johnny calls out;
“Hey, Robby.”
Making his way over to them, Robby turns to his dad first; “I told you I don’t want you here.”
“You’re my son.” Johnny argues, “I wanted to be here.”
“And so did I,” Mr. Larusso cuts in.
“Don’t do me any favors,” Robby scoffs, turning to look at Mr. Larusso, “it’s your fault I was here.”
Brushing a strand of hair back, you glance around. It felt a lot like you were imposing on this moment that you most definitely shouldn’t be witnessing, or hearing for that matter, and you can’t help the discomfort that floods you as you shuffle on your feet lightly.
“I know you’re upset,” Mr. Larusso tries to placate, “but I was doing what was best for you. Now that you’re out, I just want you to know I’m here. You always have a home at Miyagi-Do.”
Johnny steps forward then; “or with me.”
“I already have someone picking me up,” Robby rolls his eyes, gesturing past the two and at you instead. You pause slightly when three pairs of eyes fall on you, namely Johnny and Mr. Larusso, offering a small smile and an awkward wave in greeting.
“Y/N?” Mr. Larusso calls out, brows furrowed in confusion, “shouldn’t you be in school?”
“My mom let me have the day so I could, well,” you gesture before yourself, at Robby.
“Who the hell is she?” Johnny cuts in, with as much tact as you remember him having from your very brief, very short conversation with him back at the Halloween dance last year.
“Y/N Y/L/N, she’s a student at Miyagi-Do.” Mr. Larusso explains, still obviously baffled at the sight of you.
Johnny scoffs, “figures.”
Reeling your head back at his tone, you quirk a brow.
“Jesus, just… Both of you,” Robby cuts in, pulling their attention back at him as he glares at both of them. “Stay out of my life.” He’s brushing past them before they can get in another word edgewise, making his way down the stairs until he reaches you. You glance at him, before looking back up at Mr. Larusso and Johnny one last time.
“Are you sure–”
“It’s fine,” Robby brushes off, “let’s just go.”
You nod without hesitation, letting him lead the way as you follow after him. You wait until you’re far enough from both of them before you speak up, “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t on your own when you got out. If I’d known your dad or Mr. Larusso were going to be here, I wouldn’t have–”
Robby just shakes his head, glancing back at you. “I didn’t want them there,” he assures, before pausing, moving to meet your gaze. “I did want you there, though.”
Heart warming at his words, you can’t help the smile that curls onto your lips, a soft flush on your cheeks as you nod back at him.
“Yeah?”
Rolling his eyes at the twinkle in your own, Robby just snorts, “of course. You’re like the only friend I have right now.”
Chuckling lightly, you bump your shoulder into his own gently, “well, don’t worry. I wanted to be there too.”
-
Right at the end of your second class back at Miyagi-Do, Mr. Larusso pulls you aside.
Honestly, you’d expected him to do it a lot earlier given that the last time he’d seen him, Robby had all but ignored him and gone straight to you–not to mention practically told him to stay out of his life from then on. You figured Mr. Larusso would have questions, and while you’d make sure to be respectful to Robby and not share anything he wouldn’t want you to, you knew Mr. Larusso was just coming from a place of concern.
And that you couldn’t fault him for.
Smiling warmly, you glance up to meet his eyes. “What’s up, Mr. Larusso?”
“I just wanted to ask about Robby,” he starts off, obviously unsure of himself. “I don’t know what you saw back at the Juvenile Detention or what you heard, but I just want to make sure he’s okay. And-And that he knows he’s not alone.”
Swallowing thickly, you glance around, noticing that Sam, Demetri and the rest had gone off after Daniel had all but excused them. Leaving just you. Good–you knew Sam and the rest still didn’t really know about Robby, or that he even was out of Juvie. And he didn’t want them to know. Robby had made sure that you promised not to tell anyone, and you weren’t about to break that trust with him.
“I don’t know where he’s staying,” you answer honestly–because the truth was you didn’t. “Robby said he had a plan and I didn’t want to pry. Just that he could always have a place at mine if he needed.” At the look Mr. Larusso sends you, you shake your head, laughing lightly. “He’s okay, though. I promise. He just needs time. I don’t know what happened between the two of you, and it’s not my place to but I think he just needs to figure out some stuff for himself.”
Mr. Larusso nods, a solemn expression on his face. “Truthfully, I didn’t even know the two of you were that close.”
Shrugging, you pull on the edges of your sleeves. “We can relate on a lot of things.”
“Okay, well, thank you, Y/N. You’re, uh, welcome to leave.”
You nod, moving to walk off, before you pause, “you, uh… is the All Valley really going to be canceled?”
Blinking at your question, Mr. Larusso raises a brow.
“I, uh, overheard you earlier.”
“Ah,” he smiles lightly, and you try to fight the light blush on your cheeks at having been caught eavesdropping. “I’m going to try to make sure it isn’t,” he smiles, setting a hand on your shoulder before squeezing gently. “It seems like we have a lot of new talent to showcase this year.”
Flushing, you shake your head; “I don’t know that I’m qualified, but I’d love to be able to see the others.”
Mr. Larusso just shakes his head, “you’re more skilled than you think, Y/N. You just need a bit of confidence.”
Feeling slightly renewed at his kind reassurance, you beam up at Mr. Larusso; “thank you, Mr. Larusso.” Then, moving to grab your bag off the floor, you turn to him one last time. “I should probably get going, my mom’s waiting for me.”
He sends you a wave, “I’ll see you at the next class, Y/N.”
-
“You’re joining Cobra Kai?”
“No,” Robby instantly argues, shaking his head. “Kreese just offered me a place to stay and I’m just taking advantage of that.”
Frowning, you eye Robby slowly, “I already said you could stay at mine,” you remind, shaking your head. “There’s no reason to stay there.”
“I don’t want to bother you. Besides, aren’t you and your mom just starting to get better?”
“Yeah,” you pause, “but that–”
“Meaning I would just get in the way of that.”
Crossing your arms over your chest, you frown (more like pout) at Robby. “I don’t like it,” you mumble, puffing your cheeks out. “I mean, Cobra Kai is what…” You can’t finish your words, a flash of Eli, and then Hawk snapping Demetri’s arm, and it hurts too much to think about so your words simply trail off.
But Robby already knows.
“I know what Cobra Kai can do,” Robby assures, voice somewhat softening as he registers just how upset you really are. “That’s why I’m not in it.”
You flicker your gaze upwards, eyeing him for a moment, really taking a look. He seems sincere, and you’ve never known Robby to lie to you before. He’s only ever told you the truth, and he’s confided in you more times than you can count, believed and trusted in you–so shouldn’t that mean you should just trust him now? What reason would he have in lying about something like that?
Especially when, yes, he does know what Cobra Kai can do to you.
“As long as you promise, no matter what, you won’t become like them,” then, pausing, you can’t stop yourself from adding; “like him.”
“Hawk?”
Frowning, you nod.
“I promise.”
“Good,” you bite your lip, “I believe you.”
Robby lets out a light laugh at the pout that’s still ever so present on your lips, shaking his head at the cute expression on your face as you pretend to still be mad at him when he knows you aren’t really.
“Have…” Pausing at your words, Robby waits patiently for you to find the words, seeing the clear struggle across your face as you stand before him. Your face is twisted, a clear look of discomfort crossing your eyes as you grip onto your sleeves tightly. “Have you seen Eli–Hawk?”
Oh.
Honestly, Robby hadn’t expected you to actually ask about him. After you’d told him what Hawk had done to Demetri, it was clear it was a touchy subject with you and it was honestly probably better just not to bring Hawk up when around you.
So for you…
“Yeah,” Robby nods, “just passing by. I haven’t really talked to him.”
“O-oh,” you mumble, nodding.
But Robby feels like there’s still more you want to ask.
“He’s okay,” Robby says slowly, unsure, a little uncomfortable. “I think. From what I can tell.”
“I don’t care,” you argue, shaking your head, the words coming out a little too rushed. “I mean, I, well, I shouldn’t. I don’t.”
And it all makes sense then.
“You still love him don’t you?”
Your eyes widen at his words, shock crossing your features as you finally raise your head to meet his gaze properly. And your lips part to argue, wanting to argue, but all it takes is one look at Robby and you know you can’t.
You can’t lie
“Yeah,” you whisper, “I do.”
And oddly, Robby finds himself disappointed by your answer.
-
“Well, this Christmas party is turning out to be ho-ho-horrible.”
You can’t really argue with Demetri.
When Sam had invited you over for a Christmas party with the rest of Miyagi-Do, you had expected… more music? More chatting? More… fun? More than just sitting on the couch in awkward silence, Demetri eating popcorn next to you while Sam anxiously paced in front of you all, at least.
“Yeah, Sam,” Chris agrees. “I thought you said your parents gonna be out for the night. So why aren’t we throwing a rager?”
“Yeah.”
“There’s a keg on the way,” she explains, a nervous smile crossing her features. “It’s just gonna be a few more minutes.”
Frowning, you sit up; “can we at least put on a Christmas special?”
“Yeah,” Demetri nods at you, “I’d even watch that creepy one with the little elf dentist.” At the look he receives, Demetri laughs; “yeah, I’m that bored.”
Just as Sam moves to say something, the doorbell rings.
“It’s here!”
Finally, you can’t help but think, leaning on Demetri slightly as all of you turn to watch Sam open the door.
Except it’s not a keg that’s waiting on the other side of the door. It’s Miguel and… the rest of Cobra Kai? Or was it even considered Cobra Kai anymore? Miguel had been pretty explicit when telling you that he had no intentions of joining Cobra Kai now that John Kreese was the sensei and not Johnny.
Before you know it, Demetri, Chris and the others all jump to their feet, instantly coming to face Miguel and his friends. There’s a chorus of anger that passes around from both sides as everyone argues at the opposing sides appearance–but the only two who don’t seem angered or confused are Sam and Miguel… explaining Sam’s anxiousness from earlier. Clearly, the two had planned this.
So, that was a thing now too, apparently.
Moving to stand yourself, you let out a deep breath at Chris as he huffs; “Oh, h*ll no! You gotta be kidding me.”
“What the h*ll are you doing here?” Mitch snaps right back, “this isn’t a keg party. I bought this hat for nothing!”
“Wait,” Demetri calls out, “you Parent Trapped us? Why?”
“Look,” Sam moves to explain, “I know we haven’t always gotten along, but Cobra Kai is the bigger threat now. To all of us.”
Meeting Miguel’s gaze, you bite your lip.
“We think we’d stand a better chance against them if we joined forces,” Miguel adds, nodding to Sam’s words. “Two dojos is better than one.”
Shrugging your shoulders, you step forward, standing in between both dojos. “Sounds good to me,” you comply, smiling lightly as you let your eyes flicker across everyone. “I mean, why not right?”
“Absolutely not,” Chris argues, shaking his head at you. “Are you crazy? This is ridiculous.”
“I know, right?”
“Look, I know we’ve all done sh*tty things to each other,” Miguel reminds.
“Yeah,” Chris nods, turning to Mitch. “Like breaking Demetri’s arm.”
“Hey!” Mitch calls out, stepping forward to defend himself. “You guys started that fight.”
“After you almost got me fired!”
“God,” eyes flickering lower, you raise a brow as Bert turns to Nate. “I hate your st*pid face so much.”
“If you died, I wouldn’t even attend your funeral.”
What in the world…?
“I don’t know, guys,” you call out, turning to Sam and Miguel. “I don’t think this is gonna work.”
“It has to,” Sam argues. “We have one last chance to make things right. Alone, we’re nothing. But if we work together, we have a shot. If we can’t get over the past, the fighting will never end. We have to confront our enemies. This rivalry has to stop. One way or another.”
-
Surprisingly, it was Demetri that got the fighting to stop.
If anyone had a reason not to forgive, it was him. It might’ve been Eli who actually broke his arm, but some of the boys there had helped. Had been a witness and done nothing to stop or help Demetri. And yet…
“Hey, p*ssies!”
You reel back as Demetri slams his hand on the coffee table, pushing himself to stand as he grabs everyone's attention.
“This is exactly what those a**holes at Cobra Kai want. Since you were one of ‘em,” he gestures to Bert and Mitch, “you’re an a**hole too.” Turning to Chris, he nods. “So are you. So was I. Well, at least I wanted to be one. But now Cobra Kai is the worst collection of a**holes in the Valley, run by the king of all a**holes. So if by merging with Eagle Fang… weird name, by the way,” you laugh lightly–leave it to Demetri to still add that in. “Can keep us all from getting shit on anymore, then we’d all be a**holes not to do it.”
Faltering slightly, Demetri pauses; “I’m sorry for all the a**holes. I usually take pride in my grandiloquence, but… it’s an emotional time.”
One look around the room and you can tell, whether they want to or not, everyone agrees with Demetri.
A fact which is reinforced when Bert and Mitch move to sit back down.
“Very well said if you ask me, Demetri,” you say, pulling his eyes on you as you smile brightly at him.
He nods, slightly breathless, “now… where do we start?”
-
Things had almost been going… perfect.
Well, basically perfect.
Good enough.
And then Cobra Kai showed up.
Of course they did.
After Bert had been thrown through the window, beaten up no less, it had, as it usually did, gone into a full out brawl. Everyone was fighting. You saw Tory gaining on Sam, and Kyler heading for Miguel. You watched as Hawk started fighting Chris and everyone just started fighting, like they always did.
You were sick of the fighting.
Sick of hurting people, watching others get hurt. Sam had gone frozen the last time Tory had come, and you could only imagine how she was now… Miguel had just gotten out of a coma, shortly thereafter learning how to walk all over again and now he was expected to fight... again? You didn’t even want to imagine Demetri and if… if Eli found him again…
What if he hurt him again?
What if he did something worse this time?
It feels like you’re having a panic attack, everything around you blurring to nothing as you feel your heart start to pound madly against your chest. You thought you were doing better, you thought you were healing, despite nothing really being solved. You thought if you just… pushed Eli from your thoughts, focused on yourself, your mom, Miguel, Robby… Demetri–that things would be better. That you’d get better.
But it was too much. All of it.
You joined Miyagi-Do to find yourself, to find peace, but all you’d done since you’d join was fight and watch your friends get hurt.
You didn’t want to watch your friends get hurt again.
And then that same asshole, the one from the mall, the one that cornered you at the school finds you once more. It’s him and one other, gaining on you, and you can’t help but wonder what the h*ll you did to this kid to make him hate you this much.
It didn’t matter though, did it?
By the smirk on his lips he had every intention of fighting you, and something told you he didn’t intend on losing like he did last time.
Ducking as he swings a kick at you, you narrowly miss the hit, your body feeling off as you stumble over your own two feet. The other one takes this to his advantage, landing a nasty hit on your side as you grunt in pain, gripping the offended spot tightly. You kick your leg out, managing to hit him but then the other one comes rushing forward, flipping himself around before landing a kick across your face.
You fall to your knees in response, stunning yourself as the pain radiates across your body.
You were stronger than this–you knew you were stronger than this. But you couldn’t think straight, it felt like your walls were closing in on you and it was getting harder to breathe by the second. It wasn’t even so much yourself that you were worried about…
It was everyone else.
Your friends.
It was the fact that you were never strong enough to help any of your friends.
“Grab her.”
Two hands wrap themselves around your arms, pulling you back enough that you can see the boy before you now. He has that stupid smirk still plastered on his face, an expression of glee clearly in his eyes as he regards you, completely at his mercy.
Your eyes fall shut as he moves towards you, expecting the worst.
Except nothing ever happens.
Suddenly the hands holding you are gone and your eyes open as you move to catch yourself, turning just in time to see Demetri and Eli. At first your chest tightens with worry, but then the two are looking at each other, nodding, before grasping each other by the hand. Demetri turns, pulling Eli with him to give the latter the momentum to swing up, leg kicking out to hit the boy directly in the face.
Effectively knocking him to the ground.
When you glance back in front of you, the other one is knocked to the ground as well.
Your lips part in shock as the realization settles in, turning back to Eli and Demetri as the two finally turn to you. Demetri’s rushing over to you without hesitation, moving to help you stand up, and you let him do so numbly, not even really registering what he’s doing. Your attention is focused on Eli, who as opposed to Demetri seems a lot more hesitant to approach you.
“It’s okay, Y/N,” Demetri suddenly calls, pulling your eyes on him briefly. “He… Eli switched sides and he apologized.”
You don’t know what to say.
The words seem caught in the back of your throat.
What do you even say to that?
“I’ll, uh, well I’ll just leave you two to it.”
Demetri’s sending you one last smile before walking off–you barely even register him leaving. All of a sudden it’s just you and Eli, and it’s like everything else fades to the back of your mind. All the fighting, all the chaos. None of it matters.
“Demetri’s telling the truth. I…” Eli steps towards you, “I am so sorry. For everything.”
You hadn’t ever thought you’d hear the words.
Actually hear them.
Lips parting, you can’t help the hope that floods you, the warmth that floods through your chest as you stare back at him.
“You mean it?” You find yourself whispering, voice barely audible as you stare up at him.
“Yeah,” he nods, “I really am sorry. To Demetri, to everyone but most of all, I’m sorry for what I did to you.”
Perhaps he doesn’t deserve to be forgiven so quickly. Somewhere deep in your heart you know he probably doesn’t. But as you’d admitted to Robby, you were still in love with him. Despite everything he’d done, you… you knew you loved Eli. You’ve loved him for as long as you can remember and you’d been waiting to hear him say those words for… so long that it felt like a miracle just hearing them.
Hearing him actually say it.
So, you can’t really stop yourself before you’re suddenly jumping forward, all but throwing yourself into his arms as you press your face into the crook of his neck. Eli stumbles back slightly in response, obviously stunned, before slowly his arms move to wrap around your waist, squeezing back just as tightly.
Then, as a moment passes, you pull back, just enough to see his face.
For a brief second you don’t realize how close you two are, staring into his eyes, before your own gaze travels to his lips and suddenly you feel yourself flushing out of embarrassment, pulling away from him in the next second. There’s a blush on his cheeks too as he lets go of you, the both of you stepping back, avoiding each other's gazes.
You... You haven’t been that close to him in so long that, well... you just didn’t know how to react.
“We should…”
“Yeah…”
“Yeah, okay.”
He’s nodding, turning, and you’re following him, both of you making your way over to Miguel who’d just finished knocking Kyler off of him.
But, as you walk, you can’t help the smile that curls onto your lips.
-
“Oh my God, Y/N!”
Pulling back slightly at your mothers grip on your cheeks, you let her look across you, fussing particularly over the bruise on your cheek.
“Are you okay?” She cries out, worry clear in her gaze as she stares down at you. “When you called me, I rushed over as soon as I–”
“Mom. Mom!”
Falling silent at your voice, she stares back at you.
“I’m okay,” you nod, smiling lightly.
She just sighs, “really?”
“Yeah,” you assure. “More than okay, actually. I’m… I’m great.”
Brows furrowed in confusion, your mom shakes her head.
Glancing over your shoulder, you smile as you notice Eli making his way out of Sam’s house. He catches your gaze just as he moves to turn, the surprised look on his face morphing to a soft smile, one that you find yourself unable to stop yourself from returning.
Turning to your mom, you nod.
“I think things are finally getting better.”
#cobra kai#cobra kai imagine#cobra kai x reader#eli moskowitz#eli moskowitz x reader#eli moskowitz imagine#hawk x reader#hawk imagine#robby keene#robby keene imagine#robby keene x reader#jacob bertrand
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Snow Day (Sk8 The Infinity)
Hey hey y’all! I hope you guys are having a great winter! Since it’s the snow season (and I rarely get snow where I am, boo) I figured I make some good ol’ Sk8 fluff! (With the tiiiiiniest dash of angst) Hope you like it!
Summary: During a cabin trip with the squad, it starts to snow. Reki and Langa decide to have fun in it.
CW: Mentions of grief
Cloud 9 (Taglist)
@myreygn, @dirtpie39, @duckymcdoorknob (tagged you because I know you like Sk8 jlkerjakejr)
“A cabin trip?” Langa asked when Reki placed the pamphlet down before him.
“For winter break! Plus it’s team bonding!” Reki grinned, tapping the photo. “Joe’s paying for it, and the whole gangs gonna be there! Isn’t that great?”
“Wait-how’d you convince Joe to do that?” Langa asked, raising a brow when Reki looked away. “Reki?”
“I may have convinced him…in exchange we help out at his restaurant.” He dared a peek at Langa, bowing at his deadpan expression. “I’m sorry! It was the only way! We just have to help out for a week- and we get to keep the tips!” He looked up, smiling sheepishly. “Plus he’ll give us food.”
“Done.” Langa nodded, his ultimate weakness prodded at.
“That’s my guy!” Reki laughed, celebrating. “That’s next week though. This week, we’re staying at a cabin with the gang!”
~~~
“Langa- Langa Langa Langa!” Hands were shaking him, pulling him free from the clasp of his dream. When he turned to look, Reki was over him, smiling wide. “Langa!”
“GAH!” The blue haired skater yelped, sitting up too fast. Heads collided and shouts of pain escaped their lips as they held their faces, groaning in unison. “R-Reki, what’s going on?” Langa groaned, somewhat dizzy from the pain.
“Gee, my head feels great. Thanks for asking.” Reki rolled his eyes before shooting up, sprinting to the window. “Look!”
The curtains were drawn. Langa nearly forgot how to breathe.
“It’s snowing! Snowing!” Reki cheered, turning back to his friend with childlike glee. “I can’t believe it- we’ve got snow!” He took in Langa’s expression, deflating with guilt at the grief within. “Sorry, this is probably a lot-”
“No it’s…it’s wonderful.” Langa shook his head, putting on a gentle smile as he turned to Reki. “Come on, let’s go play in it.”
“Really? Are you sure?” Reki was already sprinting for the door, his giddiness returning. “Race you out there!”
Langa shook his head as he turned back to the window, the weight in his chest tightening his throat.
“Hey dad…guess you came to visit today, huh?”
~~~
“Oh my god it’s COLD!” Reki squawked upon running out the door, laughing hysterically as he spun amongst the flakes. “It’s so pretty! Come on, guys!”
“Reki, get back in here right now- you’re not wearing your gloves!” Cherry fussed from the door, in hand a red scarf and mittens.
“Oh let him have his fun, Kaoru.” Joe grinned as he cooked breakfast, the smell of Miso soup and rice filling their rental cabin and making Langa’s mouth water. “Besides, he’ll be back in soon enough.”
“Along with a cold. I don’t plan on watching over him if he gets sick. Speaking of, where’s your shirt?” Cherry turned an annoyed look to the other, narrowing his eyes at the bare chested man. “Aren’t you cold?”
“I’m too hot for winter. The season can’t handle all of this.” He flexed, earning a scoff from the other. “Come stand by me- I’ll keep you warm.”
“Mom and dad are flirting again.” Miya groaned around his game, bundled up like a cocoon in his blankets. Shadow snickered around a cup of coffee as he watched the younger boy play.
“I’ll take them out to him.” Langa spoke up before hell could break loose, gathering up the winter items. “I’ll make sure he’s wearing them.”
“Thank you Langa.” The older man looked at him curiously, probably just noticing the redness around Langa’s eyes. Langa went to wave it off when Joe suddenly swore, jumping away from the stove and swatting at his chest.
“Damn oil! It’s hot!” He yelped, still patting his skin.
“What happened to being too hot to handle, you thirsty gorilla?” Cherry turned his attention back to Joe, giving the younger man a chance to escape. This would probably come back up later.
He’d deal with it then.
~~~
“Reki? Where are you?” Langa called out, searching the open field. He swore he saw the redhead earlier. “I have your gloves-”
A snowball flew across the wind, smacking Langa in the back.
“Gotcha!” Reki cackled from a nearby tree, another snowball in hand. With a flick of his wrist, he sent another snowball flying, smacking Langa in the chest this time. “You dare approach the snowball champion, Langa?”
“Snowball champion by ass! I’m the real champion here!” Langa grinned as he bent down, gathering up a snowball of his own. “Let me remind you who’s really the champ-”
A third snowball- this time right in the face.
“BOOM!” Reki guffawed.
“Oh that is IT!” Langa cried back, throwing his snowball with perfect accuracy. Reki’s laughter was cut off with a yelp, making the other giggle. “Come at me!”
“You're on!” Snowballs flew from one side to the other, their laughter mixing with cries of shock and glee as they pelted each other repeatedly. At some point the snowballs from Reki’s side stopped, making Langa blink.
“Reki? Where are you-” Langa called, only to let out an embarrassingly high pitched squeal.
“Sneak attack, achieved!” Reki hooted, nearly doubled over with laughter as Langa attempted to shake out the snow shoved down his back. “Cool dance moves, Langa! Teach me them sometime?”
“Oh you wanna learn? Come here, I’ll teach you!” Langa grabbed more snow, a glint of mischief in his eyes as he turned to the wide eyed redhead. Reki yelped and bolted, running for the safety of a tree.
Only to slip and face plant the snow.
“Ah! Langa! Langa I’m sorr-EEEEEH!” Reki arched with a squeal of his own as Langa sat on his back, shoving snow up his coat. “Laahhahahahahngahahhahha, it thiihhihihickles!”
“It does? Wait, you’re ticklish here?” Langa grinned, abandoning his snow for tickles. The gloves limited his fingers, but the effect was the same. “I think you’re the first person I know who’s back is ticklish!”
“Shuhuhuhuhut uhuhuhuhuhp gehahahahhahhahaha!” Reki flailed and squirmed in the snow, his feet kicking the ground behind them. “Iihihihihim cohoohohohold sthahahahahap!”
“Oh, are you cold? So am I.” Langa jeered as he reached up, pressing his snowy hands into Reki’s armpits. “You’re pretty warm here- mind if I come in?”
If his back was bad, his armpits were way worse. Reki howled in laughter, pressing his arms down tightly as his squirming increased, bucking Langa off and sending him tumbling into the snow.
“Oh thahahhat does it! Take thiihihis!” Reki twisted and pounced, shoving his own hands up Langa’s coat and scribbling along his belly. “You feel pretty warm here- and my hands are cold! Warm them up for me!”
“Reehehehehehehehkiihihihihi!” The blue haired teen arched with a squeal, finding himself in a similar predicament. “Wahahahhait ihihihihim shahahhahhaharry!”
“Hi sorry, I’m Reki!” The redhead snickered, earning a handful of snow thrown in his face. “Ah! Oh, you’re gonna get it now!”
“Rehehehehheki noohohooOOOHOHOHOHOHO!” Langa all but howled as the other blew a massive raspberry into his stomach.
~~~
“Heh..hehe…I win.” Reki declared after some time, side by side with Langa against the mushed up snow. His hands were now gloved, the red scarf tied nicely around his neck.
“No way…I within.” Langa argued back, a smile on his lips as stared up at the sky. The sun was finally starting to rise up, indicating midmorning. It made everything glitter like jewels around them.
“Ehehe…truce.” Reki declared, letting a comfortable silence call over them. Then he turned to Langa, eyes soft. “Hey…can I possibly ruin the mood for a sec?”
“Is it about this morning?” Langa returned his gaze.
“Yeah…how are you? You looked so…” He waved a hand to find the words, the unspoken truth between them. “I want to make sure you’re okay.”
Langa nodded, turning back to the sky. “I’ve told you this, but my dad loved snow. He and I were big on snowboarding, but we did all sorts of things. Build a snowman, have snowball fights. My mom would make these massive mugs of hot chocolate for us when we came in. Dad would always try to kiss her, but she’d say his beard was cold.” He laughed at the memory, eyes misting. Reki reached out and squeezed his hand tightly. “I miss him so much…”
“He sounds like a great guy.” Reki nodded, wanting to reach out and wipe away the tears rolling down Langa’s cheeks. “He’d be so proud of you, you know? He’d think your skateboarding would be amazing.”
“You think so?” Langa asked, lips pulling into a wobbly smile.
“I know so.” Reki nodded, giving in and finally reaching out, brushing his cheek. Langa closed his eyes, taking a shaky breath before reaching up, squeezing the hand against his face.
“This is the first winter where I can think about him without it hurting, you know? Before- I’d only feel sad when it snowed. I didn’t want to get out of bed.” Langa opened his eyes, a fondness in them that made Reki’s chest squeeze. “Thank you. If it weren’t for you- I don’t think I’d be able to enjoy winter like I did before.”
“Come now- don’t tell me things like that.” Reki blinked rapidly, fighting off his own tears as his cheeks warmed. “You’re gonna get me all soft and shit.”
Langa laughed, the sound thick with emotion. Reki put the sound and that smile deep within his chest, locking it away within his heart forever.
~~~
“Everyone- I have an idea.” Reki announced later that day, furrowly warmed up after being more or less forced to drink Miso soup by Cherry. Granted, it was grand soup, so he wasn’t complaining. “Let’s build a snowman!”
“Haven’t you been in the cold enough today?” Miya asked, though he was already shoving off his blankets, perking up at the idea.
“Come on- we don’t know how long we’ve got this snow! Besides, that’s probably one of the most important parts of winter!” Reki nodded. “Let’s make a memory!”
“I’m in. Bet I can make a better snowman than you, precious.” Joe grinned towards Cherry. “Hope the snow isn’t too harsh on those delicate hands of yours.”
“These ‘delicate hands’ are perfect for strangling dumb brutes, sweetie.” Cherry replied with a dangerous smile. “They should have no problem making a snowman.”
“Bring it on! I’m gonna make the baddest snowman you’ve ever seen!” Shadow burst in, full makeup and everything. Reki nearly choked at how serious Shadow took things. “The rest of you aren’t ready for what I can do!”
“Well, what do you say, Langa? Are you in?” Reki asked, turning to the other. Langa, who hadn’t spoken up yet, looked surprised. Then he smiled, a warm genuine one.
“Yeah. Let’s do it.”
~~~
That night, six snowmen of various styles and techniques guarded the cabin. One was big and lumpy, slapped together with their sticks held up in a “rock on” position. One was small and neat, the spheres measured and carved to absolute perfection. One was more or less a half-snowman; originally meant to be bigger but was forgotten about after his creator got snowballed. Another was also massive, standing tall behind the perfect snowman with its branches in a flex-like position.
Between them all, two snowmen with scarves- one blue and one red, sat side by side. Their little branches were twined together like they were high fiving, though to some it looked like they were holding hands.
Langa smiled around his mug of cocoa, warmed by a burning fire as Shadow and Reki duked it out in Uno, losing again and again to Joe to a point where they were convinced he was cheating. Miya was sound asleep, leaning into Cherry’s own sleeping form on the comfortable couch just behind the group.
‘Hey dad.’ He thought to himself, smiling out the window. ‘This turned out to be a great snow day. Thanks for visiting.’
Thanks for reading!
#sk8#sk8 the infinity#non tickle#fluff with a tiny dash of angst#snow days#snowball fights#tw: mentions of grief#implied matchablossom#implied renga#they deserve to be happy folks#snowball fight turned tickle fight#but it's mostly just the dorks being dorks#They are one big ol' family y'all
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