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szkunas · 11 months ago

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WANNA BET? ౨ৎㅤ suguru geto.

synopsis / premise ♱ㅤ when a lustful spirit comes across suguru geto’s path, the curse user must sacrifice his pride and dignity for a chance to obtain its power. but you won’t make it easy for him, will you?

featuring ♱ㅤ cursed spirit!FEM!reader X suguru geto (2017 / jjk 0 ver.)

warnings ♱ㅤ NSFW ♡︎ ㅤ spectrophilia ! monsterfucking (?) ! DEATH (not on any of them) + BLOOD ! EATING HUMAN FLESH (not cannibalism!) ! dub-con (both consent, but it involves a dangerous bet, so just to stay safe) ! sub and dom dynamics constantly changing (both switchers) but reader is usually domming ! unprotected sex + unrealistic portraits of sex ! creampie ! power dynamics ! rough sex / “hate” sex ! degradation + praise ! WORD COUNT: 4990.

author’s note ♱ㅤthank you for everyone who's enjoying and supporting my work! i love you all and i hope you like this piece as well. this is inspired by the poll i made a long while ago. the people asked, and they shall have it! despite it not being yandere character, be sure the next fics will fix that! <3

p.s — i write smut very rarely. i feel it's a little bland and ill probably avoid writing it for a little while lol. despite that, i hope you enjoy it nonetheless

BETTING WITH CURSES is always a dangerous ── not to say stupid ── idea. their conceptions are more violent and sadistic than those of humans, and they have little (or no) notion of mortality. they revel in the gushing blood, the failure, and the deadly despair that initially gave rise to them. therefore, it is uncommon for even the most experienced curse users to engage in this type of activity. but geto doesn’t know the meaning of fear. it became unfamiliar to him, like he always wished. curses are just the accumulated filth of non-sorcerers. and a god fears neither the insects beneath him nor the remains they produce.

the cult provides a good amount of spirits, with that rotten taste that is impossible to disguise. no matter how much spice or food is eaten afterward, it is always terrible, but today it goes down his throat much more easily. as much as it’s a good facade, gathering followers and getting a good reserve of curses to form the night parade of a hundred demons, it’s not enough.

all the spirits he consumes recently are mediocre grade 4s. sometimes a grade 3, or if he is extremely lucky, a grade 2. but it has become a rare occasion, and the spirits of non-sorcerers are as weak as their mediocre progenitors.

he doesn’t have enough, and if things go this way, he will have more of an amalgamation of weak and useless spirits than spirits strong enough to distract the sorcerers and help him fight his true goal. therefore, his free days, when not spent with his daughters and his fixation on crêpes, are used to hunt cursed spirits. usually, his followers help with this. the loyal sorcerers see each other as family, and are willing to work for the new world as much as he does. it doesn’t matter how much blood or sweat it takes, it doesn’t matter if he’s not alive to see it all, after all. no more being oppressed by insects. the true species must rise, and the time is coming.

patience, he tells himself. but haste is a curse of its own that affects every man at some point in his existence, making him lose himself in his tasks and concentrations. as he reclines on himself in what could be called the throne room, suguru watches as some of his fellow sorcerer help one of their own. he quickly approaches the confusion.

a woman with a flushed face and heavy breathing, one hand on her chest as if she was about to have a heart attack. sweat pours off her in a rush, as if her body is burning from the inside out. it’s rare that they don’t come back with even one spirit (as mediocre as it is, a curse is a curse, and he can’t afford to be selective at this point). then, suguru frowns. part of him genuinely cares, in a way he never could, if this woman didn’t have a technique.

“what’s the matter? i thought you were going after the spirit near shinjuku.”

“we were.” one of them answers. “but that thing is a beast. you can’t get close without feeling completely lost and attracted. it’s like a fog that enters your nose and mouth and consumes you from the inside. we nearly died. we can’t handle that, master geto. we apologize.”

he sighs, looking over at the poor woman. there’s something visibly wrong with her right now. her heart seems shaken by a powerful force, and this makes geto think that he shouldn’t underestimate this curse in question.

she looks around and practically latches onto any man she can see — even kissing a guy’s neck while he blushes and gently pulls her away. is it some kind of spirit that manipulates attraction? this is particularly dangerous for him. even though he is, well, him, suguru is still a man. the flesh is weak, and perhaps this curse will become a huge headache to deal with.

however, it could become one of his best weapons.

if a spirit like this keeps causing problems in kyoto, he will have more time to do what needs to be done in tokyo. he can already think about it — whatever form this spirit has, having sorcerers under their thumb. crushing their heads and buying him precious seconds to take care of his business. he can only imagine how the poor sorcerers will react, attracted to a beast.

“don’t worry about that anymore.” he assures the cult members, which turn their heads to him. their leader, their god. the one who’s going to make them rise to a new world. his voice is filled with the grace and confidence he usually has on his tone. but also something else.

determination. raw and pure.

“i will deal with the cursed spirit in shinjuku myself. please watch over mimiko and nanako while i’m gone. i will need just a few hours.”

while humans are extremely annoying, they have their uses. somehow. spirits like you, of thunderous strength, also have thunderous desires. technically, curses don’t need to eat, sleep, or reproduce like humans do. your existence and body made of pure cursed energy coursing through your veins transcends the need for these chores. but like everything that is unnecessary, it is not necessarily impossible. that’s why, as a curse, you know how to use what you have to attract victims. legends about women who attract men with their beauty and turn on them like vipers are very common. the idea of comfort turning to horror ── resting in the arms of a beautiful goddess only to discover that she is a beast shaped like a beauty ── is something that has generated many curses. just like you.

your long tongue curls around your fingertips, trying to absorb the blood that rests there. the body of the last unlucky person who came to try to get you rests at the foot of the motel room bed. it’s not difficult to blend in with humans, and sorcerers come to you like bees looking for honey. while sucking the blood from your fingers, your eyes look up to the dim lamp in the room. the moths accumulate, beating against the light and surrounding it desperately. your body stands up and walks out of the room while arranging your kimono sloppily over your shoulders. if you turn off a light, the moths are lost, without hope. their lives are all about chasing dangerous things. they are attracted to the light of a flame, following this wonderful source of illumination without knowing that it will lead to their death. just as mortal men (and women) allow you to do.

the body stays behind, not that it’s important. the others can’t see you, which means all they know is that a man walked into a room alone, and died inside. eviscerated and devoured as if destroyed by a modern movie zombie. your steps guide you away from cheap construction, and that’s a relief. the reception smells like mold, and the employee is more focused on playing solitaire than looking at whoever enters. the cold night air hitting you would be a problem if your stomach wasn’t full and well refreshed with warm blood. and, at the entrance to the parking lot, a man approaches. so he can see you. it wouldn’t be the first time a young guy approached you, hungry for some. you try to hide the blood in your hands.

you devour the hearts of humans, just as they would like to devour you (in other senses). however, he looks… different from the usual men you see around. high energy levels, as well as clearly being a sorcerer. he doesn’t look very old, maybe in his late twenties. this means that he doesn’t have as much experience as older men, but he is no amateur at sorcery. just as you fill yourself with meat, he also consumes something. you can’t tell just by looking, and it’s as disturbing as it is interesting.

okay, you’re full. but there’s always room for another one. especially a looker like this.

“mm, hey, handsome.” you purr, smiling cutely as you rest your hand on your waist.

“spare me. i know what you are capable of and what you really want. i’m not going to be your next meal, curse.” he smirks, circling around you.

well, that’s a fascinating twist. it reminds you of how many sorcerers have said the exact same thing, and in the end it ended up just becoming your dinner. however, this man seems less— consumable than the rest, but no less attractive.

the idea of eating him saddens you, because then you would lose him forever. not being able to see that pretty face after you eat it out of spite… it would be tragic. but maybe there’s a way of having fun, while still getting something out of him.

you lick your lips at the thought.

okay, this could be the opportunity you’ve been waiting for. a tall, handsome man with a large amount of cursed energy? he’s the kind of guy you don’t let get away. after so many snacks, a careful look always captures a good and complete meal. but perhaps you can do much more than devour him. it’s the kind of chance every girl dreams of ── in your own twisted and sadistic way, of course.

“can i get your name, handsome? or do i have to keep on the petname basis?” you tease, smirking softly.

he walks around you like a shark circles tasty prey. this cat and mouse game would scare away any other curse, this sorcerer doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to play with, which makes the interest you have in him doubled. your eyes follow his every movement.

“and while we’re questioning each other, what do you want? a fight?”

“i’m suguru geto. and what i want is very simple.” he steps closer, but you don’t budge, instead raising your chin despite the attitude. that makes his eyes widen softly and suguru scoffs. was he expecting you to be intimidated? “you.”

okay, that answer itself is not unusual for you ── many others have said the same thing to answer the very same question ──, but the new dynamic and opportunity this man presents is. an idea blooms in your mind like a poisonous flower: beautiful, but lethal if touched. it doesn’t look dangerous, it looks attractive and vibrant, but it is. and you are about to apply this in the most intense way you can imagine. a new thing, a new idea.

and like every creature beyond mortality, routine is boring and boring is despising for you. new things are exciting, captivating. he’s interesting.

“why don’t we make a small bet, hm? geto.”

he raises one eyebrow, interested. “i’m listening. and, please. call me suguru.”

the motel isn’t a very suitable destination — apparently, it’s not proper to go to a place where a corpse is —, but an empty apartment that a cult sponsor bought for him will do. suguru and you walk around while pulling up casual conversation and flirtation. everything seems surprisingly chill. maybe in another life, you two could be friends. maybe even with benefits? or— perhaps something else.

he doesn’t think your personality is bad, per see, but again. you seduce and eat mortals easily. maybe you’re just tricking him into lowering his guard. maybe in another life, you’re a pretty little thing who hugs his arm and allows him to take you home with genuine, good intentions. maybe in another life, you could like him genuinely. and he could like you back.

but you two don’t live another life — only this one. so, he’ll settle.

you’re barely past the door and he feels your lips on his. he smirks, grabbing you by the hair to pull you closer. it’s supposed to be an easy tatic — seducing you. he can absorb curses of grades that are at least two lower than his, or… any curse that surrenders.

as your tongue swirls around his, suguru feels a shiver run down his spine. you taste so— unbelievably sweet. nothing like any other one he’s every tasted. the sound of kissing takes over the apartment as you stumble over your feet to the bed.

this might be harder than he initially thought.

the bet is simple, somewhat. you will compete in something, your choice. whoever wins has complete control of the loser. which means — he wins, you’ll become one of his curses. you win? he’s yours. forever. whatever that means, you made that clear. you both explained your expectations and what you wanted from the other, deciding for a biding vow.

the competition you chose was sex. basically, whoever cums first loses.

and for some reason, suguru feels like he shouldn’t lose. he’s not sure what you’ll do with him once “he’s yours”, but he feels like it wouldn’t be a very opportune time for him.

you move to kiss his cheek, jawline, and neck. suguru sighs while throwing his head back. “you’re— eager.” he murmurs with a soft hiss. “i’ve never been with something like you, so, forgive me if i’m shy.”

he can feel the way you smirk against his skin, before you start sucking down and biting. he grabs you by the hair to pull you away, relishing in your flushed expression and how your voice sounds when you yelp.

“no hickeys, no bites. i’m not yours to mark, curse.” his fingers wrap themselves around your hair tightly to get the message across. your tongue slips out, long and eagerly licking your lips as you watch him. like a lion watching a zebra, about to feast.

“yet.”

your answer just sets him off. and the way you smirk, that damned, arrogant smile that he intends to rip off your face as soon as you get into bed — adamant on being a goddamn brat. oh, you’re going to be a handful.

in a way, he likes it (although suguru prefers to bite down his tongue, rip it off and swallowing it before admitting anything to you). there are those who say that victory without effort is just a poorly deserved achievement.

dragging you by the hair, geto’s eyes are following your every movement as you stumble on your feet. you’re having fun with this, he can tell. something twitches on his chest, and — he can’t decide on anger or attraction as he gets rid of his clothes. why is his body so hot? you haven’t even done anything yet.

“keep your word if you lose, curse.” suguru mumurs, looking down at you while pushing you to bed and moving to be on top of you.

“could say the same, suguru. and don’t call me that.” you spread your legs slowly, smirking as he helps you undress. “i have a name, you know.”

the fun thing about men for you is how predictable they are. they keep denying it over and over — i don’t love you, i’m not a bad guy for cheating on my girlfriend, you’re nothing special — while they’re devouring you with their eyes. someone once said the eyes are the window to the soul. you believe that to be true — after all, no one has interest in a meal they cannot see first.

his desire is palpable in the way suguru’s hands rush, pushing away layers of fabric that’s keeping him from actually seeing you. it looks like he wants to rip the clothes off your body and see what’s underneath, because his heart needs to he. he needs it, he needs you.

the words rushing through his mind make him stop for a moment. what is this thought? he needs you… ? he breathes heavily as you grab his wrist and guide it to your chest. suguru can feel it under his fingers and palm.

the soft feeling of your skin is truly inhuman. it sparks something inside of him — he can’t remember a day where he wanted someone this much.

“you’re staring, suguru.” you tease.

“shut up.” he grits his teeth, moving down to cup your breasts, his thumbs caressing your nipples.

“you like this, don’t you? dirty whore.” geto murmurs, his hands snaking down and grabbing your hips harshly while leaning down, latching his lips to your nipple. his other hand massages your breast and pinches it, and the vibrations of his soft moans make your skin shiver.

he shouldn’t like this so much, he knows that. but the way you taste — it’s not fair. he’s rock-hard after some kissing, pinching, teasing. mere foreplay is making his cock twitch on his pants. the way you moan is divine, and your hand comes down to play with his hair as he sucks on your chest.

your legs wrap themselves around his waist, and he presses you down against the bed, hovering above you eagerly. the stupid buddhist robes he uses as a disguise are falling off his body, and all he wants to do is rip the fabric off and set it on fire because it prevents skin-to-skin contact. he bites down your nipple, and you moan, moving your hands to tug off his clothing.

“do you have condoms on you?” he asks, and you snort.

“no. i can’t be affected by mortal diseases. i don’t need those.”

suguru murmurs something against your skin, feeling himself grow addicted already. a small piece of his brain is already wishing you were his, but not to send you to battle — to get you sat on his lap all day, as he kisses and sucks on your chest. you tug at his hair, watching the black strands falling down his back gracefully as he moves to kiss down your underbust, then stomach. lower belly. his purple eyes look up at your face as his lips part. the cult leader’s hands caress your body as if yearning to memorize the flesh with each touch. here or there, he gently squeezes or pinches to see you squirm. they pass through his arms, shoulders, down his sides and finally meet under his thighs, guiding them to rest on his shoulders.

the first contact of his mouth with your pussy is messy. a bit lewd. generally, younger men like this like to act slow, a bit torturing, to be certain of what they’re doing (and mostly, they’re not). but suguru dives in as if your cunt is the last meal he’ll ever put his mouth on. his attention is mostly driven to your clit, and you gasp, playing with his hair and squeezing his head between your thighs with a smile.

he’s good. you’ve experienced sex mostly using it as a weapon — men in particular are more susceptible because they’re not expecting it, but women also don’t expect to be eviscerated while they’re pleasuring you. but sometimes, when you do enjoy sex for fun, you gained experience enough to tell this man between your legs knows what he’s doing. his hands move to grab your waist and keep you from running away as he kisses your clit. suguru’s tongue draw out and he moves is head up and down slowly, teasingly.

you enjoy the sensations, shiver trailing up your spine and the pleasure already pooling on your lower belly. your body relaxes slowly against the pillows, and you chuckle.

“mm, enjoying yourself down there?”

he doesn’t respond, instead humming against your cunt. the feeling causes your body to tingle, and your fingers curl around his strands (which tells suguru he’s doing something right). he’s finding out how heaven tastes.

you’re more determined than ever that he’s yours, and he can see it in your eyes. the fire in your eyes rivals the fire in both of your bodies.

the flavor is indescribable. geto is no amateur at sex, although he feels like one now. exposed, naked and excited, he feels about to lose the bet that will define his destiny. a lot of people have passed by his bed, and he’s already received a lot of compliments about what he can do with his mouth, but the feeling of all those people feels like a weak breeze compared to what he feels with your taste on his tongue. it is divine.

he’s never experienced anything like it, and the idea that sex could be this good makes him feel like he could do it for hours, every day, all day. it’s almost invigorating, energizing, when he experiences you. his hips move here and there, thrusting softly every now and then. the flushed tip of his cock oozes with pre, and he believes he never got so turned on before.

it’s like he’s a college kid, a desperate virgin trying out pussy for the first time. his arms move, hooking them around your thighs, trying to spread your legs as he sucks on your clit.

you tug at his hair again, hissing.

“not fair, jerk. we need to compete in a way both of us can lose. quit it.”

he would deny it, but denying it would make it obvious geto could cum untouched just from eating you out. he complies, leaning back, your juices making his lips and chin glisten under the room’s lights. “alright, curse.” you tug at his hair again, and he groans. “stop that.”

“you need to get used to it. i’ll do it all the time once you’re mine. i'm going to make you eat me out everyday, like the good boy i know you are.”

he moves up, kissing your stomach and between your breasts while looking up. “don’t claim victory before it’s time.” his voice murmurs, pressing his lips against yours and hugging your waist. “lay back.”

you smirk. “no.”

you grab his shoulders, using your unnatural strength to surprise suguru. changing the positions, you get him to be under you, throwing each of your legs to the sides of his body. his hands move to grab your waist, and his eyes narrow as he frowns.

such a handsome, tall man — even when he frowns. once he’s yours, you promise yourself, you have a lot of fun.

“what are you doing?” he hisses, moving to sit up. your palm lays against his chest, pushing him down again as you raise your hips to rub your wet cunt against him. “fuck, fuck— you slut, what are you doing?”

both of you moan softly at the contact, and you lift your body with spread legs and a smirk that tells him: you’re going all in to win this bet. this is worrying.

once you sink, slowly and surely, he throws his head back with his eyes narrowing. a groan escapes his lips, and his muscles clench. geto’s fingers curl around your waist, sinking his nails to your skin desperately, leaving small, red half-moon marks that heal immediately.

if heaven exists, this is what it feels like — his mind is sure of that. your pussy clenching around him, the pure warmth and tightness from your hole, it drives him insane, speechless. his eyes almost fill with water, and the urge to explode is immediate.

he gasps, holding you down and trying to breathe properly. the sew attempt proves futile, deadly and failed. it’s like the air can’t reach his lungs properly, and for a second he thinks he’s going to die in this pure bliss and smiles to himself. but the charm disappears when he remembers the bet. it was a very, very close call that he didn’t came as soon as he felt you around him.

the want awaken in his body is primal. dirty and impure, there’s no other word for it besides carnal. he wants to grab you and pin you down, thrust into you and cum inside until he dies from exhaustion. this power is — dangerous. it scares him and pleases him in equal measure, being under such a powerful spirit. suguru’s concentration is split, divided, and growing weaker as you speak again.

“what’s wrong, suguru? i can feel you twitch.” you giggle softly, leaning in over him.

your next move throws him off guard. the sadism and fire in your gaze makes him raise an eyebrow, and before he can react, his hips move. down and then up, just to slam back down. it knocks the air off his lungs, and he moans loudly.

“oh, god.”

“no, baby, it’s just me.” you chuckle, staring to set a pace as you lean back. “mmm, sugu. you feel really good, you know? so hard and nice to ride. and so good for me.”

instead of resting against his chest, your hands grab his knees. your stunning, divine body that makes his insides curl and melt is leaned back, exposed in all your glory, and he forgets you’re a curse for a moment. convinced you’re an angel, he grabs your hips to help you ride, thrusting up against your movements.

suguru smiles softly to himself as he hears your soft moans. the sounds is delicious, drowning every worry out of him. he only remembers you’re a curse two minutes seconds later, when your tongue slips out your mouth to lick your lips, as if you’re enjoying a meal.

he feels like an animal, capable of thinking about only one thing: copulating. having sex and reproduce and if he fails in the latter, have sex again until every drop of semen is squeezed out of his body.

he tenses up, groaning. god be kind, he has no idea how he managed to hold on for so long.

“what’s your deal?” another moan quickly scratches his throat, and the heat is almost becoming unbearable. pooling in his lower belly, making his abs and muscles clench as he grinds against you, desperate.

“what are you talking about?” you chuckle, leaning in again and moving your hands up to play with your nipples. slowly — both to tease him and to avoid you cum too early and lose. softly.

“stop— smirking like that. it pisses me off.”

you lean in, playing with a strand of his hair and tugging on it gently. suguru tries to sit up, but you throw him back down, not willing to guv up your advantage. he’s close. you can feel it, see it, you can enjoy the way the head of his cock hits your g-spot sweetly.

the only surprise you feel is when a hand that’s not your creeps and settles between your legs. his thumb moves in small, fast circles against your clit, earning a moan out of you and making your chest inflate as you breathe in heavily.

there was a chance you might lose. if you weren’t you, you might’ve lost.

you pick up your pace, and his heavy breathing mix to yours. it’s fun, you think, you only breathe as heavily as mortals when you’re engaging on sex. it’s cute, it makes them think you’re like them. human. weak-willed, like the man twitching inside of you, urging for release.

but you can’t blame him. his touch drives you insane, you light up like a keg of gunpowder being ignited by flames. he needs to explode. he needs to. you’re settled by that.

suguru starts grunting, his thrusts into your warm, inviting cunt growing more eager and erratic. he thumbs at your clit, looking up at your expression. you smile, moaning his name lewdly.

“suguru.”

and— he feels it. rising so quickly his body has no reaction against it. his orgasm is hard, harder than he ever had it with any warm body or his desperate hand, alone on a corner. he sighs, pausing in between breaths to groan and moan. his eyes close, and his browns furrow up as he stares at the ceiling, gasping softly. his abs clench, he grunts

perhaps this is the true feeling of nirvana, of ascending. suguru believed he and the other sorcerers were true gods walking among earth. that sorcery was the only and true path to the ascension of humanity as a species and as individuals. but this? the feeling of thrusting his cum into your warm, wet velvety walls is the closest he ever felt to a god.

he breathes heavily, scratching your hips as reaction to pain — the overstimulation is hitting him as hard as a truck when you don’t stop moving your hips, eager for your own orgasm as you notice your victory. he grunts again, watching you fall apart on his cock as your turn finally arrives.

riding off your high, you enjoy yourself using him as a toy and personal dildo, you stop slowly to get off him. some of his cum spills out your cunt, fat drops falling to his abdomen.

suguru’s breathing calms down slowly, but his eyes widen in realization. he uses his elbows to prop himself and sit up, murmuring — his voice weakened and a bit desperate. a hint of fear creeps into his tone.

“wait. no, wait.”

you grab him by the neck, and he hesitates, looking up at you. his skin burns and a sinister chill runs through his body while his arms seem to be on fire, next to his neck. stunned by the intensity of his orgasm and what it means, he doesn’t even act while you help him rest his head against your chest. suguru stares at himself, shaking as he notices new marks on his forearms.

black, strong and serpentine, these marks against the skin form quickly, marking him now and forever. like tattoos he can never remove. he looks up, and you twirl a strand of his black hair around your index finger.

“you lost, suguru.” your voice coos sweetly, as if you pity him. but you don’t. you don’t have that mercy on you. “and you know what that means?”

you giggle, and he shivers again as he feels your lips gluing to his ear. you murmur lovingly, as if you’re not deciding his fate.

“you’re mine.”

thank you for reading <3

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erenjaegerwifee · 10 months ago

Text

Slave boy

Survive the night: Day 5

Paring: Lo’ak x Fem!Na’vi!Reader

Warnings: MDNI 18+, master/slave kink, mommy kink, slight boyxboy, some parts are NON-CON but not the entire fic, mentions of blood and killing, subby lo’ak, soft dom reader, explicit language, titty fucking, slight oral fixation, cum eating, spitting,

Word count:

Disclaimer: All my characters are AGED-UP! If you are uncomfortable, I do not recommend you read, if you do however. Any negative feedback will be blocked off my account.

Event Masterlist

You come from a very aggressive forest clan, you are very secretive and known to kill first and ask questions later. It is not an odd thing for your family to enter other forest clans successfully enslaving the people. Your armies are large, larger than any other forest clan on pandora, it does not which clan the na’vi are from, they have ultimately heard of you.

During the first human war on pandora, your clan was one Jake Sully sort out for help, on the condition his second born child, when it is born will be enslaved to your clan when the time comes, lucky for you it was a boy. Without your father’s help, Jake Sully would have never lived to see his family grow and ultimate agreed.

The entire Sully family knew well that one day they would have to give up Lo’ak to your clan, to your family. As much as he protested over the years, it is a debt he must pay. And that day is today. You jump off your ikran excitedly waiting to meet your new little slave, your father always made it a big deal that he got you one of Toruk Makto’s sons as a give to his first and only daughter.

He was proud of himself for the deal he struck and he will be happier to see his little girl’s wishes comes true. She is finally getting her own slave like the rest of her family. It is tradition for members born into your leading family to have their very own slaves, since the time of the first songs. As awful as it sounds, these people that you trade for at the mate with you for the rest of your life, but they remain slaves until the day they die. Their only real purpose is to provide you with heirs.

Your mother is a slave because of this tradition and so are the wives of your two brothers. They are not always treated badly but they know their place well enough to not step out of line. You make your way to your father’s side; your mother and brothers stand a bit behind you both and you come face to face with the infamous Toruk Makto.

His eyes are somber, it doesn’t appear he wants to hold up his end of the deal, but you know your father will not disappoint you. You look beyond him to his two sons that stand tall behind him, ‘one of them has to be yours’

You just turned 23 and you were told your slave would be turning 21 by the time you got him, so he must be the shorter one. You smile brightly seeing him, he doesn’t look like he wants to leave him family, but he has no choice. Truthfully, you feel like of bad for him, everyone who mated into your family has had to leave their own, but you don’t feel that bad about it.

“Lo’ak step forward” Jake says to his son, you look towards the rest of his family who stand in tears, while Lo’ak walks forward for you to get a closer look at him. You giggle at their silly actions, “do not cry Sullys your son will always be well taken care off, by me of course. Maybe if he is a good slave, I can bring him to visit” you say in a sweet tone.

Lo’ak’s ears pinned down by your words as he looks to the floor, “Lo’ak eyes up, look at me, you are going to spend the rest of your life with me the least you can do is get used to the view” you walk in front of him letting his tall broad frame dwarf you. Having this much power over someone feels amazing, you can understand why your brothers like it so much. His eyes meet your face without uttering a single word.

“Can you let gather his things and say goodbye to us” his older brother spoke up to you. You turn your head from your slave to his brother, “no need everything he needs is with me there is nothing he must take from here” your voice was heavy with attitude as you look around you judging the surroundings they live in. You sigh, “but, I guess you can say goodbye”

You take a step back waiting for Lo’ak to turn and hug his family, after a few minutes of their women crying for him, you yank on his arm, “I’m ready, let’s go” you wave obnoxiously at them, “I’ll let you grab a few things to keep quickly if you want” you raise your hand gesturing for him to hurry up while you are standing in front of his family hut.

When he walks back out you smile and wave goodbye to his weeping family as if everything is dandy and you take him to your ikran, you get on the rest of your family following and Lo’ak gets on behind you. When you fly up starting your journey home, Lo’ak still has yet to speak to you.

“So, your name is Lo’ak, it is a lovely name” you say, not looking at him, and he doesn’t respond, he doesn’t even touch you. You think it’s quite disrespectful, has he any idea how much men want the honor of being your slave? And he sits here, unappreciative of the opportunity that he has.

You can offer his family and that entire god-awful clan all the protection from the sky people they could ever want, and he wants to sit in silence? “Lo’ak.” you say sternly, “don’t be disrespectful now, your life is now in my hands, I’d hate for you to lose it so soon”

“Sorry ma’am, Lo’ak is my name yes, Lo’ak te Suli Tsyeyk’itan” he says softly, his voice sounds scratchy, must be from all that crying. The thought makes you roll your eyes but you still respond to him nicely by telling him your name. “Now before we arrive home, I would just like to make a few things clear, I’m in charge, I always will be, anything you do, or want to do has to go through me first, you will sleep where I tell you too, you will eat whatever I give you when I say, and you will fuck me whenever I see fit, are we at an understanding?”

Lo’ak sniffles behind you and answers a small ‘yes ma’am.’ you don’t say anything about what he calls you, you let it be because you quite like it. You believe that Lo’ak will thoroughly enjoy living with as your property, you can be quite soft something when it comes to the slaves, you sometimes feel for them, which your father and brothers do not like. But whatever they don’t get to tell you how to control your new little toy.

When you arrive home you jump off your ikran hurriedly, you want to show him your hut, his new home. You walk hand in hand with him, ignoring whatever your father was saying to you pulling him towards the out skirts of the built-up village towards your grand hut. Lo’ak looks around letting your lead him, something he knows he has to get used to.

He observes the beautiful markings carved into the wood of the strong huts and the beautiful clothing the other na’vi in the village wear, he feels under dress even if he is a slave now. The people pay him no mind, they know better than to stare at what is yours, your wrath is known for that sort of thing, you are very possessive. Lo’ak knows better than to misbehave, he’s father told him much about what he should expect in this position, but he does not see any reason to not like this clan, despite the fact that he might never see his family again, everyone at this clan lives happily and in harmony, he just can’t see how a place so beautiful can he filled with cold-hearted, aggressive people.

When you make it to the front of your hut, you push open the big doors that serves your only entrance and exit to the inside. You are just bubbling with excitement you cannot wait to see what he looks like in the collar you make him. “We live here, you will not leave without my permission ok, not that you could” you mumble the last part as he walks in and you light the candles around the hut and shaking up the jars with glowing flies that is used as extra light so he can see better.

You watch him look around what is now his home and you dig around your stuff to find the collar, when your pull him towards the bed to take a seat. You push him down onto the bouncy, soft mattress and take the knife that was on his hip and toss it aside. “You won’t be needing that anymore” you hold the collar up securing it around his neck hooking your finger in the little D shaped ring that you would attach the leash too.

“This is your side of the bed; you will be responsible for cleaning and keeping yourself neat. I’m not doing that for you, and I don’t care much for complaining so, don’t do that. This is long enough for you to move around the entire hut without taking it off, you have no reason to do that unless I say so” Lo’ak watches you grab an ankle cuff attached to a big chain that sits on the side of the bed. You bend down and attach it to his ankle tightly,

“ow” he whimpers, “oh, sorry, I actually wasn’t trying to hurt you yet” you smile cheekily. “Now I must go hunt us some dinner, there is a guard stationed at the door, so if you try to leave, he will kill you, not that you can” you joke. You give him a quick kiss on the lips and grab your bow to move outside.

Lo’ak finally let his tears fall, he grabbed the bag he brought from home going through all the things he took from his family to remember them by. He took Neteyam’s necklace, one of Kiri’s crystals, a toy of Tuk’s, His mother’s crafted bracelet and his father’s arm band. These are things they use every day, along with some cherished family photos of all of them. Lo’ak missed them dearly but there is not going back now.

He feels like this is unfair, how could his parents agree for him to become someone’s slave. Granted you are very pretty with your soft, loose hair that falls mid-way down your back and your doe eyes, your strong body with soft curves that is still smaller than his if this were a different situation, he might have agreed easier but he didn’t have a choice this time.

His head raised to a sound by the door, did you come back already? He thought. But no, he was wrong, the guard that was stationed outside came in to take a peek, something about him gave Lo’ak a bad vibe so he quickly put away his things and stuffed them under the bed. “You are the slave boy huh, I knew you were coming from a forest clan but I had no idea you were so pretty”

The man was taller than Lo’ak, more muscular it made him feel small. It had been a little over 30 minutes since you’ve been gone. Lo’ak looked around for anything he could use to get out of this situation but his knife was tossed on the floor a little way from him, if he lunched towards it, he is sure the man would become defensive. “Um, yea that’s me” he said softly, he doesn’t want to accidently be disrespectful. His eyes dart to the floor as the man got closer to him.

Lo’ak hopped up in his feet and jumped to the other side of the bed creating distance between them, “shouldn’t you be by the door?” Lo’ak said, shaking his leg with the ankle cuff on it, he’s not used to the feeling. “Do not sass me slave” the man quickens his movements getting closer to Lo’ak.

He tried to dodge the giant but he tripped on the chain and fell backwards onto the floor. He started scooting backwards until he hit a wall and the man came up right in his face and held his arms over his head, Lo’ak tried to fight him but he wasn’t strong enough. Lo’ak kicked and screamed but no one came to his aid, he tried so hard to get the man off him but he couldn’t. When the man slotted his face in his neck biting on the skin, Lo’ak whimpered, blushing at the feeling, his body was betraying him even though he was screaming for help. When you walk in happily ready to feed your little slave, the sight before you makes you see red.

You drop the meat you hunted to the floor and rip the man off of Lo’ak standing between them. “What the FUCK is going on here?!” your body feels hot with anger as you look between them, “He asked me in here he wants me to fuck him.” I turn my head to Lo’ak and see him shaking his head ‘no’ with a scared look on his face. Fortunately for him, you believe him, “This man is my slave, mine! You have over stepped your boundaries and I will not have this” you hiss out furiously, you tail swished from side to side.

You walk up to Lo’ak’s knife on the floor and pick it up charging straight at the man, he tried to run but it was so late for him, Lo’ak watches as you stab him repeatedly in the chest and abdomen, blood sprays out messing up your floors and clothes. Lo’ak is terrified, he’s never seen a woman with such aggressiveness in them, now he understands why you, why your clan is so feared.

When you are satisfied with yourself, you drag his dead body out your door leaving him to the predators of the forest and walk back in seeing Lo’ak in the same spot you left him, “ma fil, are you ok?’ you ask him while he walk up to him. Lo’ak quivers under you, he was skilled warrior but never in his life has he had to deal with anything like this.

He nodded his head at you explaining the man didn’t get a chance to do much before you came in. “Do me a favor slave, clean that up” you gesture to the blood on the floor as you walk over to your indoor shower area to clean yourself up. When you are both done with your respective task Lo’ak politely asked to clean himself up and you allowed him to while you fixed dinner for you both.

“You are a good cook ma’am...the food is great” you roll your eyes and smile at his comment, “You do not have to suck up Lo’ak, I already own you and I’m not mean unless you do something to upset me, which I trust you won’t,” Lo’ak quickly shook his head ‘no’ “I meant it” he said with his mouth full.

You smile once more before a question popped in your mind, “Slave, when I came in here and pulled that man off you, you were blushing like a little girl with a crush” your words make his face heat up, “My question is, did you like it? Having a big strong man on you like that? You answer will not upset me, please be truthful” your tone is motherly, as if you actually care what he would prefer.

“It was scary, I didn’t like the way he held me down, but I guess it felt nice when he kissed me” you voice raised almost immediately. “He kissed you? WHERE?!” Lo’ak’s ears pinned down to his head at your tone, “NO- no not like that, he didn’t kiss my lips he kissed here” his fingers touched the part of his neck the man kissed him and showed you.

You let out a sigh at your over reaction, you couldn’t expect everyone to keep their eyes away from him even though you try to make sure they do. But you will continue to kill people that touch what is yours, does not matter who they are.

You walk over to him slowly, kneeling down on the floor next to him looking at the spot on his neck the man touched. “What if I did it?” you look up at him, “kissed me? You want to kiss me?” he said softly. His words make you laugh aloud, his ears pin back to him head at the sudden noise. “Awe pet, you are mine, I can and will do whatever I want with you, I own you Lo’ak” you voice was unwavering with a grin to match. “So, tell me, what are you?”

You wait for his response then you hear a small voice whisper out, “your slave, yours.” you grin widely at his answer, “good boy” you lean in closer and kiss the same spot on his neck, softly but you know he felt it. Then you did it again this time you lightly sucked on the skin drawing a little moan from his mouth.

You press up your body against his huge bicep. It’s funny, he is so much larger than you, he could over power you, but he doesn’t Lo’ak knows his place and it turns you on so much, you feel like you want to mate him now. “Rutxe” (please) Lo’ak whispers, when you pull away, his eyes are shut as he takes in the feeling of your body close to his. He wants you, it’s evident from the bulge under his loincloth.

“Rutxe pehrr?” (Please what). His eyes travel to yours, “rutxe, ‘ampi oe” (touch me) his voice is gentle, “Peseng?” (where) your tone matches his, “fitseng...” (here) his hand moves yours gently to his bulge. The action makes you grin wickedly thinking about all the things you will do with him.

You stand up distancing yourself from him walking to the bed, “come.” You word commands him quickly, he stands and walks behind you, the chain around his ankle drags as he makes his way to you waiting for you next instruction. His tail twitches in anticipation as he waits. “Lay down” you say once more he follows immediately.

When he is situated, you start to undress yourself, untying your loincloth and pulling your beaded top over your head. Lo’ak watches you with his lip trapped between his teeth, his cock straining in his loincloth making his squeeze his bulge to give himself some relief. When you take in his moments you smack his hand away from it untying his loincloth before straddling his thighs, “Rule number 1, you do not touch yourself, you want relief you ask me and wait until I decide to give it to you. Do you understand?”

You took his cock in your hand making him whimper out, “yes ma’am sorry” in a sweet voice, you spit on the head as you stroke him making it all wet, “Rule number 2, when you want to cum, you beg. If you don’t you will be punished with whatever I see fit.” he mumbled out another ‘yes ma’am.’

Lo’ak is so turned on by this attitude, he has never had anything treat him this way, and as mean as it sounds, he loves it, he can’t wait to see what else you are going to do to him, to make him do. “Such a good boy for him” you smile at him and let go if his cock, “You do not touch anything unless you have permission do you understand?”

Lo’ak exhales with a breathy ‘yes ma’am’ before you move up to his face spinning around until you at hovering above his face, his body below you is in your full view, you see the way his cock jumps at the sight of your tight hole, making you giggle. “Eat” you instruct him and sit yourself down on his face, but you don’t put your whole weight.

Lo’ak immediately forgets your last sentence and his hand shoots up to wrap around both of your thighs pulling your weight down on him. You almost let it slide when you felt his warm tongue tease you hole but what kind of master would that make you?

“Lo’ak fuck- I just told you don’t touch” you rip his hands off your body and raise off him feeling his head chase after your cunt. Your hand reached behind you and grip his hair pushing his head down making his whine in protest, “slave, listen carefully, if I have to correct you again am going to end your life, do you get it” you voice comes out stern but you don’t miss the way his cock jumps again, you let go of his hair when he mumbled another ‘yes ma’am’ and sit back down on his face.

Lo’ak’s tongue works heavenly, you have never felt someone eat pussy do desperately, you grind your hips on his face feeling the way his tongue slides over your clit amazingly, “fuck slave, you’re doing such a good job” you throw you head back taking in the feeling, your words make him moan sending vibrations through your cunt.

You reach forward, grabbing huge cock in your hands, you used the pearls of precum dripping from the tip and rub it all over making his entire length wet. Lo’ak moans and groans under you, his hands grip the sheets as he isn’t allowed to touch you, his toes curl up and his tail thumbs on the bed next to you. He is losing it, he wants to cum. “Please, please I want to cum”

His words are muffled in your pussy, you raise off him again and his eyes dart down to your hand stroking him, “please!” Lo’ak begs quite easily, makes you wonder how far he’ll go before he is in tears. “Please what slave?”

“Please mate let me cum pleaseee.” he calls you his mate, his eyes are shut tightly opening to dart his eyes at his cock. Calling you his mate makes your heart speed up just a little bit, he’s such a loyal little slave because you both are not mated yet. You smile wickedly at him, “no” making loak whimper in protest, “Please, please” he begs again. “Not yet prrnen” (baby) you say making him whine louder, you know he is close and he is trying his best not to burst, it is absolutely adorable seeing him like this.

The tears start to fall from his eyes as he babbles nonsensical pleads, but one of those words catch your attention, “Please ma..” he begs, ma? That is one you’ve never heard, “mama-mommy please” fuck.

Your feel your cunt pulse when you hear it, your brain fogs up almost as much as his, “mommy? You want mommy to make you cum slave?” he immediately responds with a long chain of yeses begging you to let him release. “Cum for mommy prrnen” your smile is wicked; you bring your face down to his neck sucking on his skin leaving sweet marks. You stroke faster brining him closer to his release until his cum shoots up onto his abdomen, some even ooze out on your fingers.

He comes with a very pretty moan of your new nickname and tilts his head towards you a bit. His eyes are shut when you raise up from his neck, you call out his name watching his eyes pop open as you suck on your cum-covered fingers. The sight makes him stiff once more, he moves his hands up to touch you but he suddenly remembers your rules. “Mommy can I touch you?” his little voice makes you giggle; you can’t help but give him permission.

His hands move up to your perky tits and he squeezes the flesh and tugs on your nipples, he sits up bringing his mouth close to them before he looks up at you waiting for permission to suck. When you give him a nod he instantly goes down, your hands come around his head holding him close to your chest as he bites and sucks at the flesh. “You are such a giving slave you know that? Such a good sluttly boy for me” you smile hearing him moan to your words, you don’t miss the way his cock twitches when you call him your slave. He likes it.

“Fuck slave yea suck in my tits just like that, you are doing so good for me” his cock twitches again making you giggle a bit at his desperation. “Can I fuck them?” he pulls away and ask you. His request makes you smile and you lay down for him to come on top of you, straddling your chest right under your tits.

You press them together letting him thrust his slick cock between them watching his face as he loses himself. Lo’ak thrust begin to speed up and he leans over you, hands placed above your head on the bed as he watches the way his cock disappears between your tits. You stick your tongue out letting it graze the tip of his cock every time he thrust. Lo’ak quickly loses his self-restraint when he feels your wet tongue on him, he fucks faster dropping his head down lower ready to come, “Coming slave?” you say up to him, “yes yes please-ma" his words come out so fast as he looks at you desperately for you to say yes.

It appears you have a soft spot for your slave when you grant him another yes, his cum shoots over your tongue and chest making a big mess on you. It surprises you how much he had in him after how much he came the first time, “oh baby you made a mess on me” you let out a fake gasp.

Lo’ak doesn’t wait this time for you to tell him clean it up, his hazy mind brings his head lower down to your chest and licks up his own cum, “don’t swallow it slave I want it.” he doesn’t respond just raises his head over yours and line up your mouth with his. When you open, he sticks his tongue out lazily letting his cum fall into your mouth.

When you swallow all his delicious cum you bring both your hands to the side of his face, “Kiss me slave” you pull his head down to your, slotting your lips on his for the first time ever. You taste a mixture of yours, and his cum on his tongue when you shove yours into his mouth, his lips are so soft against yours. He does not even fight for control Lo’ak lets you take everything, he syncs the kiss perfectly, pulling away for air at the right moment before tilting his head giving you more access to his mouth.

His obedience makes you shiver, you feel your stomach flutter with butterflies. You love the feeling of his body towering you and you being in charge. But there is nothing you love more than a well-trained slut listening to your every command.

When you push him away from your mouth you observe his tired eyes, your slave wants to sleep now, but you aren’t finished with him. You push him onto his back watching his eyes flutter a bit, you quickly straddle him over his thighs and raise yourself over his cock, “You can touch me Lo’ak” you tell him as you sit yourself down on his cock.

Lo’ak’s eyes widen feeling you sit on his cock without warning, his hands fly up to your hips as you lower yourself on his massive cock. Your lips part as you take him in you, Lo’ak mewls under you in overstimulation. You swear his cute sounds alone could make you cum. You start off slow bouncing on hos length and progressively get faster.

Lo’ak squeezes your fleshy hips and squirms under you, he begs and begs for you to cum faster so he can. He moans in the overstimulation he feels whimpering at all your encouraging words. He feels so good, he’s gonna cum so hard inside you but first he has to ask. Lo’ak begs for you to make him cum, he whimpers and cries for his release.

Tears fall down his cheeks and he babble out pleads for you, “Please, please, pleaseeee mom-myy, let me cum in-inside you. Want it so bad” you throw your head back at his sounds coming hard on his cock before giving him permission to fuck himself to a release, your hands fall on his chest feeling week from the riding and he ruts up into you looking for his release.

When Lo’ak cums he wails. Man forgets other people lives in this village with that wail, people might think you’re hurting him on the first day. You feel his cum shoot up into you and his cock twitches until his balls are empty and he lays limp on your bed. You crawl off him and lay beside him over his under that hugs you around your hip.

“So baby, ready to go again?” with a cheeky grin. Lo’ak knows he is in for a long night.

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loveliest-venus · 2 years ago

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bittersweet - straw hats crew x reader

includes: Straw Hats crew x f!reader warnings: major character death summary: In your last moments, your crewmates reflect on their time with you before saying goodbye. content: angst, slight fluff, can be read as romantic or platonic, no spoilers, 1.5k words.

Dying was never part of the plan.

Then again, none of this was ever part of the plan, from getting experimented on to meeting a rowdy pirate crew that called themselves the Straw Hats to end up joining them, thus starting what would be the biggest adventure of your whole life. Of course, you regretted it from time to time, it was a wonder how this wasn’t one of those times.

Well, maybe a little bit. You didn’t like seeing tears further dirtying Luffy’s face. It didn’t suit him, you weren’t used to seeing him with anything but a huge smile on his face, the smile that gave you hope despite everything. Your ears were still ringing but you thought you could vaguely hear Nami’s cries, or were they Chopper’s? It was hard to say, the poison had spread fast and you were certain that the blurriness in your vision wasn’t because of tears, as your eyes were dry and bloodshot, most likely from the toxins pumping through your veins, making each breath just a little more painful and… Was it just you or was Zoro screaming? You honestly couldn’t tell anymore. Your eyes closed as your body fell forward, stopping as Luffy’s arms wrapped around your torso to hold you up, making your chin rest on his shoulder.

“Hang on!” Your captain called your name hoarsely, snapping his head to the side, desperate yells piercing through the air as Chopper clumsily dashed over to where you were, slumped over Luffy’s shaking form. “Chopper!”

“D-Don’t worry, I will save her!” Chopper’s fur was wet, snot and salty water mixing as he cried, his voice cracking at the vowels of your name while his arms reached out to help stabilize you. It hurt your heart to see them so distraught and you hated that there was nothing you could do to comfort them.

“Chopper… Stop.” Both of them froze, Luffy’s body growing stiff against your clammy skin. “It’s okay… I’m not scared,” the words tasted bitter in your mouth, in contrast to the serene look on your worn-out features. Blood was trickling down your forehead, hanging on your eyelashes and joining the tiny trail spilling from the corners of your lips. “I’m happy to die… for my crew.” You meant it, your heart had never felt lighter.

“Oi! What the fuck are you going on about?! You can’t just–!” Zoro’s voice was unmistakable, rough like the numerous knives on your body. From the looks of it, your peaceful declaration hadn’t settled well with him. You wished you could meet his gaze one last time, blissfully unaware of the milky sheen on yours. It was then that Chopper realized, with a heartbroken sob, that it was truly too late. “Chopper, do something! Hurry up!”

“Moss-head…” Zoro’s earrings jingled when he turned to look at Sanji, ready to cuss him out until he saw the look on his face, somber and pleading. It dawned on him that the cook had already begrudgingly accepted that this was it. But the swordsman wasn’t known for admitting defeat that easily, if ever.

“Save it, you damn– ,” he was cut off when a pale, delicate hand landed on his broad shoulder, Robin’s lips set in a thin line, the only thing betraying her true feelings was the tight grip she had on him.

“Zoro.” Her eyes were fixated on your battered form, her brow furrowing at your labored breathing. “This isn’t the time. She’s too far gone.” It was Franky’s turn to lose composure, aggressively kicking away the remnants of what had once been a beautiful tree. Taking away the destroyed flora, the unconscious enemies around you and your own blood splattering the ground, this could’ve been called a scenic place to die.

“B-B-But Chopper can fix her up! He always can! R-Right, Chopper?! Tell Robin that she’s wrong!” Usopp’s arms were tightly wound around Nami, both of their eyes growing misty, holding each other up in a fruitless attempt to hold it together. At the archeologist’s soft murmur of your name, their hopes were shattered, Nami’s knees buckling under the weight of her grief, almost taking Usopp with her, forcing him to stand up straighter than before, for once staring at death right in the eye. If only it wasn’t your bloodied face staring back…

Brook remained silent, for once devoid of all joy. It was happening again, someone he held dear was being taken away from him all too soon, your life cut short at the capricious hands of fate. Jinbei had a similar expression on his face, choosing to honor your wishes as you clearly didn’t want to leave them without a proper goodbye.

“Why…?” Luffy, who hadn’t stopped crying, tried shaking you as if that would rip you out of your dazed state, your hair tickling his cheek as you didn’t have enough strength to lift your head up to look at him properly. “Why did you do it?!” He kept yelling your name, now crushing you against his scarred chest, refusing to let you go. “You can’t leave us!” A choked sob rocked his body, a shiver running down your spine at the sheer pain lacing his youthful voice.

Chopper was clinging to your leg, burying his face in your calf to hide his swollen eyes. “I’m sorry, I-I’m so sorry! Please…” The mink was talking to himself at this point, stuck between begging whatever deity was listening and apologizing to you for not getting to you in time, for not being smart enough to find a cure. Zoro’s grip on the hilt of his sword tightened, loathing the helplessness wrapping around their group viciously, refusing to look away from you, still being held up by the devil fruit user’s embrace. His heart was fighting tooth and nail to keep itself from breaking, minuscule cracks growing the heavier your eyes got. Unbeknownst to him, there was already a scar in the shape of you.

Sanji gritted his teeth, taking a few steps in your direction, blinking away the moisture building up in his lash line, he didn’t want to miss any detail in your face, knowing it was the last time he’d ever get to admire it. In his eyes, you were as beautiful as ever, not even death could take your beauty away from you. Nothing would convince him otherwise.

Their allies could only watch, growing restless as the silence continued, were you gone already? None of them were close enough to see your face clearly, your crewmates had formed a circle around you, protecting you from unwanted eyes. Each of them had different opinions on your rambunctious group, however, none of them could deny that you were fiercely loyal to each other and seeing such a tight-knit crew lose a member was disheartening, a few of them inching closer to their own. It was an unspoken agreement, to pay their respects to the person who had given it her all to win this battle, saving them from a similar fate.

“Because… you called me your friend.”

Your soft voice cut through their thoughts seamlessly, a few gasps escaping from Nami, Usopp and Chopper. Zoro’s eye widened, almost losing his grip when the meaning behind that phrase registered in his brain; whereas Sanji chose to let his feelings take over, slowly sinking to his knees. Brook hung his head, and if he had eyes, he would’ve closed them, not wanting to witness the inevitable. Franky, on the other hand, kept his steely gaze on you, his fists growing tighter with each droplet of your blood that had touched the ground, none of this made any sense to the cyborg whose robotic body shook with the strength of his pained weeping. Your sweet words were like a knife to Jinbei’s kind heart, all of his memories with you as part of the crew playing like a cinematic sequence in his mind, you were one of the first to approach him when he had finally accepted Luffy’s invite. Robin could only smile, finally allowing her tears to drip down her face, wishing she could hold you for one last time. Life without you was unfathomable to them at this point, could this truly be reality? Wasn’t there any way to rewind time to save you?

None of them could see Luffy’s face, his reaction to you admitting that you were willingly exchanging your life for theirs in the name of your friendship. But it wasn’t hard to guess, seeing as he’d pressed his face into your neck, inhaling your scent to soothe his racing heart, torn to pieces by you and his inability to help you. He knew from the moment that he saw you that you would become an important part of his crew, however, he never imagined that it would end like this. He wasn’t ready to continue his journey without you. How could he become the King of the Pirates if you weren’t by his side?

“You truly are the best crew I could’ve asked for. I’m thankful for you… From the bottom of my heart, thank you.” Your eyes were fully closed, the corners of your lips curling up ever so slightly in a loving smile. It was a breathtaking image that would be branded into their hearts forever, sealed with your very last words to them.

“I love you.”

#one piece x reader #one piece angst #op x reader #one piece imagine #op imagines #venus.works #venus.sfw #venus.angst

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horse-girl-anthy · 5 months ago

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the leading male characters of RGU have variations on the same complex: "I failed at being a prince." however, they have their own specific versions of it, which manifest in widely different behaviors. I'll run through them, basing my account of the characters on how they were at the start of the show:

Saionji is deeply troubled by Utena's despair, but then witnesses her miraculous transformation. since Touga seems to be more mature than himself, he assumes Touga must be responsible for it. Saionji begins to feel himself a child, lacking in insight; not only was he unable to save the girl in the coffin, but he couldn't even understand her plight. having caught glimpse of a world he can't enter himself, he develops an inferiority complex, which he attempts to compensate for with old-fashioned masculinity, violence, and domination of others.

Miki gets sick, and his weakness forces Kozue to go to the concert hall alone. while she learns from this experience that she requires Miki in order to shine, he comes to the conclusion that he has committed a grave sin and destroyed the sunlight garden with his own hands. this irrational belief follows him into early adolescence, and he has somehow managed to turn it around and allot blame to Kozue as well. perhaps this is because siblings do not have strong ego boundaries, or maybe it's that Miki sees Kozue's failure to be a princess as an affront to his desire to be a prince. this becomes a vicious cycle, since negative attention is good enough for Kozue, who flaunts her naughty behavior to keep Miki fixated on her.

Touga is a two-faced character who outwardly projects the version of himself that he'd like to be. in actuality, though he may not be aware of it, he is a person who wishes the world was a better, fairer place and longs to alleviate suffering. however, he learned his own weakness young; to avoid the terror of powerlessness, he is willing to do just about anything. as Saionji believes Touga saved Utena, Touga believes Akio saved Utena, and so he models himself on him. on one level, he maintains a cynical worldview in which he is justified on acting however he pleases because he has gained power, but on another (deeply buried) level, he hopes he will become a prince and set things right. unfortunately for him, his behavior is contradictory with that goal and will only serve to enforce the status quo. he copes with this using cynicism, pretending to himself that he doesn't believe in nobility anyway.

Akio is like a monstrous combination of the previous three, with one crucial difference: Akio no longer actually wishes to be a prince. he may mourn his failure, but that's a form of narcissism; he doesn't even have the commitment to despair. rather, his "sadness" is a grand show in which he is the leading character. does he have a lingering spark of care for Anthy? perhaps, but he only calls it forth for the purposes of manipulation. long ago, his weakness caused Anthy immense suffering, suffering which has never ceased since. as eternity stretched on, Akio began to think to himself, "isn't this actually her fault? she's the reason I'm no longer a prince; she stole my beloved self from me. and what's more, she isn't a princess, which means she deserves this. in fact, doesn't she actually want this? yes, it's true: both of us love the way things are, and so she will always help me to keep them this way. why, I'm so magnanimous that I'll forgive her for starting this, even though it's so hard for me to bear living in my fallen state." thus, to Akio, being a failure of a prince is a sublime torture, and the scab he's grown over his original wound has calcified, not healing but rotting what's underneath.

the question now is where does Utena fit into this schema? I don't think she's in line with the characters listed above, since she's not living her life based on a failure, but instead on determination to suceed. in that way, I think she's most similar to Ruka, at least in outlook. Ruka tries to be a prince through manipulation and coercion, which is of course doomed to failure, but he is staking his life on his desire to be a prince. Utena, after overcoming her own hurdles, does the same.

#i could have described Mikage too bc i think he has a prince complex at least in part #but his deal is a bit different and also it wouldnt have added much (read my Mikage essay for full description of his issues)#rgu #commentary #idk if other ppl see Touga as i describe him but thats how he is to me

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dindjarindiaries · 1 year ago

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character: Hunter (The Bad Batch)

prompts: "Everything's gonna be okay." "Promise?" "Promise."

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

You paced the area outside the cockpit for a few minutes, debating whether or not you should actually walk inside. The rest of the ship was quiet, with everyone asleep aside from you and Hunter. He was on watch in the pilot's seat, facing hyperspace and twirling his knife around to keep himself awake. For some reason, though, you couldn't make yourself walk in and disturb his peace.

Thankfully, he made the choice for you. "You can come in, you know."

You stopped and sighed, your resolve withering as you finally stepped through the threshold. Your arms crossed over your chest as you stood just behind the co-pilot's seat. Hunter had already sheathed his knife, and his observant gaze was fixed on you. The more he studied you, the more his brow began to knit together in worry.

"You should be asleep." Hunter's words weren't a scolding; rather, they were coated in pure and genuine concern, an invitation for you to tell him what was on your mind.

You huffed and shrugged. "I tried."

You turned the chair so that you could sit in it, and you kept it swiveled to the side facing him. He did the same, leaning an elbow upon one of his knees. He was without most of his armor, which no doubt made his current position much more comfortable for him.

"I..." You paused, then chuckled as the words began to form in your mind. They sounded ridiculous when you started to give life to them. "I shouldn't have bothered you. I'm sorry."

You began to stand, but Hunter was quicker. He stood and held your shoulders to keep you in place, his eyes searching yours and providing a comfort that left you breathless. "You're not bothering me." His thumbs ran over your shoulders. "You came here for a reason. That's why it took you so long to come in."

The slight amusement he added to his tone made you huff. The sound brought a small smile to Hunter's lips.

"I'd like to hear what you have to say."

You nodded at that, returning his smile as he relaxed back into his chair. Hunter still stayed close, and he even offered his hands to you. You accepted his offer and held on tight, keeping your gaze fixated on them as you finally spoke your truth. "I'm afraid, Hunter. We don't know what we're doing, we don't know what's coming next, and... it's scaring me."

Hunter gave your hands a gentle squeeze, and as you dared to look up at him, you noticed the way his own shoulders had grown a little heavier. He released an exhale and let his own gaze fall. "I understand." He watched his thumbs run over the backs of your hands. "It's not easy navigating this galaxy when so much has changed in such little time."

You took a deep breath, wishing that all your worries could go with it as you closed your eyes. "I don't want to lose anyone, Hunter. We've already lost Crosshair in a way, and that's something I know none of us have fully healed from." You reopened your eyes to meet Hunter's gaze, and a glimmer of pain in his eyes proved your words to be true. "What if something worse happens to one of us?"

Hunter's brow lifted in sympathy, but before he could say anything, the sound of more footsteps drew your attention to the threshold. Wrecker was standing there with a yawn, rolling his neck before he looked at Hunter first. "All right, Sarge, it's nap time. I'm..." he paused as he noticed you were there, and his gaze settled on your entwined hands, "ready for my shift."

Hunter nodded, rising from his seat and helping you to do the same. You thanked him quietly before he responded to Wrecker. "Thanks, Wrecker."

He walked forward and you followed. Hunter's hand patted Wrecker's shoulder as he passed him, and you gave Wrecker a quick side-hug. He returned it with a comforting smile.

Hunter was waiting for you as you joined him outside the threshold of the cockpit. He gestured with his head towards his bunk, his voice now a whisper to avoid waking the others. "You can come with me."

You nodded and attempted to ignore the warmth you gained at the idea of sharing Hunter's space with him. He led the way to his bunk and helped you up first before following. There was a blanket that he drew up over the two of you, another layer of warmth that threatened to devour you and every dark worry that was still taking a hold of you.

It was only after Hunter had rested his head on his pillow to face you that he began to respond to your earlier worries. "You've been with us through much of the war. You've seen what we've been up against."

You nodded at that. The first time you had ever seen them in combat, it had blown your mind. It was a big reason why you tagged along with the squad in the first place.

"This Empire and this galaxy are unpredictable, but that never stopped any of us before." Hunter found one of your hands again and held it tight in his own, though his gaze never strayed from yours. "We're gonna be okay." He nodded. "Everything's gonna be okay."

The worried weight on your chest already began to dissipate, but you needed one last reassurance to make it disappear. "Promise?"

Hunter lifted his hand to your cheek instead and nodded once more. "Promise." He brought himself close enough to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. Your entire body began to relax in a way you'd never felt before as he pulled away to face you again. "Now, try to get some rest." His hand returned to yours. "I'll be right here."

You brought yourself even closer to him, but before you buried your head in his chest, you held the tattooed side of his face and kissed him. It was a quick yet sweet gesture, spelling out the thank-you you wished to tell him in a way that somehow said it even more strongly. He was beaming as you pulled away, though your head went to his chest to keep yourself as close to him as possible.

There was no clear resolution in sight, like Hunter had said, but you believed him wholeheartedly. Everything would be okay, and at the end of it all, he would always be there to make sure of it.

#some much needed comfort for this series finale era :) love you all #tbb hunter #sergeant hunter #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter x you #hunter tbb x reader #hunter tbb x you #the bad batch fanfiction #the bad batch fic #prompts #dindjarindiaries

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lo1k-diamonds · 1 year ago

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Call You Mine💜 Chapter 1

PAIRING: idol!Yoongi x OC

SUMMARY: Freya despises everything soulmate-related, but one day her soulmate shows out of nowhere and turns everything upside down.

"Why didn’t you reach out to me?" Her eyes watered in response to his words and he was certain. "You knew who I was, how I was suffering." It pained him to say so, but he knew it was true. It had to be a conscious decision. And he had to know why.

A slowburn rejection soulmate story to make you fall in love with Min Yoongi (again).

WORD COUNT: 7.4k (Total: 297k)

GENRE: Rejection, Soulmate AU, s2l

RATING: Explicit

WARNINGS: angst, huge ass story that is an emotional rollercoaster, rejection (tho it has a happy ending), OC has a strong personality and flaws (all my characters do really), desperation, explicit sexual content, semipublic I guess?, riding, consensual but there's conflict, soulmate bond is inescapable and shit happens

(You can also read it on AO3, originally posted in December 2022)

A.N. I have this poll I've been meaning to do about my soulmate series and to do so, I thought I should probably introduce those stories first 😅😋Yoongi's story is the third of the Soul Palette Series (but the one that started it all). Again, it is a realistic rejection soulmate story because I wanted a story where the female character doesn't lose her backbone as soon as [insert soulmate] shows in the picture/has sex. Lots of angst and fighting until the stars align ;)

Masterlist | Masterpost | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs

"Poetry, music, a painting, they don’t save the world. But they save the minute. And that is enough.” Matilde Campilho

What were the odds?

“Freya, are you listening to me?”

“Yeah, I am,” she answered nonchalantly, looking out through the car window.

Her mood soured with the conversation and the woman steering the wheel sighed. “Whenever the subject of soulmates gets brought up you just become…” Freya gave her an ice-cold look from the shotgun seat. That made the woman mad, “Insufferable.”

Freya smirked through her pain and looked away again.

The woman sighed again, “We’ve been friends for almost nine years. Don’t you think I know you by now?”

Freya placed her elbow on the car door, supporting her chin on her hand. Her fingers covered her mouth strategically. She knew the lecture that was about to happen, Lidia never missed a chance to try and change her mind about this topic. She didn’t have the heart or energy to fight it anymore.

“Soulmates are each other's halves,” she started and Freya just clenched her jaw. “You were born with one, two parts of a whole.” Freya couldn’t have heard it or learned it better if she was in primary school. Sarcastic thoughts like that would flood her every time Lidia pulled that sermon on her. “Just because barely half the population finds theirs, does not mean yours isn’t out there.”

“Sure, he might be out there, but I wish to be like the other half of the population. You know, the one that was able to live happily by being with the people they chose to be with,” Freya said with a hint of victory.

“Fair, but it doesn’t diminish the fact that their soulmates are still out there. They might have never met, but that doesn’t mean one should just ignore it or—”

“I’m not ignoring it,” Freya cut, annoyed. “I told you, I never met that person. Why would I lie!”

“I don’t know, maybe because you hate the idea of soulmates so much!” Lidia yelled back, fortunately without taking her eyes out of the traffic. Motorcycles were insane, trying to get in between the moving cars to get ahead. Freya was happy it was Lidia driving them to the venue. Lidia took a deep breath, “If something happened to him, you know you can tell me…”

Freya sighed, feeling stuck in the same loop, “I wouldn’t know, I’ve never met him.”

She hoped that would be the end of it, for now at least. Lidia seemed fixated on the idea that she was lying about her soulmate, that something tragic had happened, or that she was avoiding the person. Which didn’t make any sense according to her own rules, for fuck’s sake! Wouldn’t she be sick and whatnot if that was the case?

“Fine,” Lidia relented, as she always did when confronted with Freya's bitterness. “I would just like you to be open-minded when you do.”

Freya bit her tongue to hold back her remark and let the car fall into silence. She hated that topic and now it was stuck in her mind. She had never met that person and she never wanted to. She had no open-mindedness to offer because she would never be okay with it. And she wished she could just yell it out until it got through Lidia’s thick sand castles and baby cupids and stupid pink heartshaped butterflies: meeting your soulmate was terrible.

Sure they were supposed to be your other half, but they could literally be on the other side of the world. With different cultures and upbringings, you could be paired with a terrorist, misogynist, psychopath, the list went on. Who was it to say that person would actually fit your personality and values? Absolutely nothing, as history showed. Quite frankly, the fifty percent of the populace that never met them were the lucky ones. Never meeting them meant never experiencing withdrawals of absence. Never bending or nullifying your beliefs and values for the sake of someone else that, though unique, was probably not even the best match for you.

Because let’s face it: though science had proven its existence, who was to say the bond meant the same to everyone, or that it should be the same? For scientists, it was perceived more as an absolute physical attraction that would lead to the best procreation. That had nothing to do with love, with fated partners, or whatever else was mediatized. It all looked more like a romanticized publicity trope used to sell way more chocolates, flowers, and cards than Valentine’s Day. Or to make people feel misfitted and incomplete until they did find that person, instigating them to consume goods, programs, matchmaking events, anything that could speed that along. Why should anyone live with the unrelenting weight of not having met someone they never needed? That could ruin them, their lives? It was all terrible!

She would have known if she had met that person. Though she in general avoided physical contact, the mere presence of the other person was supposed to be enough for the both of them to know. She of course had no idea what it would feel like, soulbonds were also reported with different intensities for different people, but she was sure she’d know if that fateful moment ever occurred. Moreover, she would feel the withdrawal. Though tolerable to some, especially with medication, it would be impossible not to feel anything. She knew that’s how it would always play out: even if she avoided them and ran through the nearest exit as soon as she felt the bond, the need would hunt her, both of them, for as long as they lived. That was something she was willing to endure, though she honestly hoped she never had to. If she never met him, she’d never have to. So, she wished she never would. Simple.

Freya glanced at Lidia, who was now pulling over the security of the event and showing them her badge. Lidia couldn’t possibly understand her standpoint, and as much as they would fight about it, Freya wasn’t interested in shattering her dreams. If Lidia could one day live happily ever after with her fated mate and actually be happy, Freya would gladly support her. She just couldn’t be deluded by the idea like Lidia.

Their nine years of friendship were very precious to Freya. Though the focus on her career had led her astray from many of her friendships, Lidia always stuck by her. She was one of her dearest friends. She would always call and catch up on her, whether Freya was at a fashion runway, strike, or in a warzone. Maybe that was why Lidia was the only person she ever gave two cents to in regard to soulbonding. Everyone else was free to be their own idiot, but Lidia was her idiot. Freya didn’t want to see her get hurt. Lidia felt the exact same way, she knew that. It was the only reason they fought about it in the first place.

Lidia parked the car in the underground parking lot and Freya was forced to move. They were still by the entrance of the arena, the lights from the streets made their way to where they were. Lidia opened the trunk and Freya got her material ready. There was noise in the air and she kept trying to figure out what it was.

Lidia closed the trunk when Freya gave the nod and Freya’s blue eyes widened in shock. Beyond the entrance, behind the security barrier, there was a sea of people. People chanting, jumping, and screaming.

Lidia was smirking at the sight, “Not your typical warzone, is it?”

Freya pulled her camera that was hanging on her chest to her face, regulating the lens to focus on them. They were mostly girls shouting, around their twenties, some if that. They had colorful banners with letters stamped on them and sticks with a ball that seemed to shine.

Click.

She looked briefly at the photo on the view screen, then up again at them. She was surprised.

“No, but similar. What could it be that makes them act like that?”

Lidia was passing her her media badge to access the event.

“Boys.”

He woke up from his nap, dazed. He kept having the same dream. He had had it for a while and in the beginning, he couldn’t remember it properly. Now, he could. No faces or characteristics, but he knew it was always the same person he dreamt of. When he told it to the others, they thought it had to be his soulmate and he had found the idea hilarious at first, that was impossible. But then, with the years, he started wondering. Was it that far-fetched that there was a connection between them if they were two pieces of the same soul? Maybe their pieces had an incredible bond and that was why he could dream of her.

Her. He couldn’t remember much, but he did remember that, which brought more weight to the possibility of her being his soulmate since soulmates were always of the opposite sex. For him, love or a partner was always about the connection, the person, not about their appearance or gender. He never felt like he had a gender preference because he would always look at personality first, but his soulmate would be female and he was okay with it. Though honestly, despite dreaming of her occasionally, he couldn’t conceive a relationship — he hadn’t had a serious one in almost ten years.

Life made it that way, and he accepted it. His career had taken off in a way he had dreamed and actually achieved. He was surrounded by amazing people, professionals, friends, and family alike. He had his fans, who supported him and allowed him to live every single one of his dreams, from making music, to not worrying about money, to being able to support his family comfortably. Did he ever wonder if loneliness was a price to pay for it all? Yes. Did he think it was? No. He wasn’t looking for a relationship, or his soulmate. They would show in due time. He was living, bit by bit, in tranquility.

He of course thought about what would happen if he met her. Seokjin and Hoseok had found theirs and they were exceedingly happy. They gave all others the hope of a lifetime of happiness and fulfillment, though none were particularly searching for it. ARMYs didn't know about their discovery, they had decided it that way. Not even necessarily because of the fans, but because of the sasaengs and paparazzi. The lack of privacy would be overwhelming and the men didn't wish to ruin their soulmates' lives.

If anyone had to choose who appeared the least interested in the whole soulmate trope it would probably be him. Yoongi was known for many things, he was aware, and the top included being snarky, lazy, and perfectionist. Some probably saw him as the most cold, obsessed with his music, a workaholic. It was somewhat true, he shrugged. Ideas were constantly in his mind and he was the happiest if he was putting them to life. That meant spending a lot of time by himself in the comfort and safety of his studio, space, and mind. It also meant he slept a lot. None of those characteristics meant he actually was cold or uninterested in finding his soulmate. Quite on the contrary, sometimes it felt it was the exact piece that was missing. He lived with it, but he wouldn't deny it or reject it if it happened. He would welcome her wholeheartedly, he had been waiting for some time now.

There was pressure to perform in front of thousands of people that night, as it was BTS’s last tour date in Europe, in Berlin. He was very tired, exhausted really, as were the others, but they were persevering. They had to, the quiet that would come after would be both a soothing balm and a curse. They had to make the best of it while they could, no matter what.

He was reflecting on that, at the backstage lounge after having slept a nap. The others were getting ready for the concert in other ways, though they were all quiet as the stress was building up. He walked out to reach the stylist's room and get his makeup done, knowing he would be the last one to do so when he felt it. He stumbled against the door awkwardly, completely taken by surprise. He looked around in shock, meeting the makeup artists’, hairdressers’, and stylists' surprised looks.

She was there. She was there somewhere.

He was there somewhere. Freya was certain of it. She knew she would know when it happened and she knew. She was terrified, petrified in place, but she knew.

“Freya, what’s wrong?”

Lidia sounded worried and Freya blinked blankly for a second. She had fallen against the wall and was now leaning against it. People were passing in between them in that corridor in both directions, oblivious to them, most speaking a language she didn’t understand.

Freya immediately forced a smile, dismissing her question. “I’m fine, I just tripped.”

Lidia accepted it because, in the turmoil of people running around backstage, that wasn’t surprising. Little did she know what happened. Freya was nearly sweating from nervousness, her body too hot to handle the May warmth.

How could that be, she thought, while following Lidia. She had lived in Berlin her whole life, why would it have to happen at a boy band concert? It made no sense, at all. On one hand, she had been super lucky to never stumble on him her whole life. On the other, really, a boy band concert? What if it was one of the fanboys outside?

That was her worst nightmare coming to reality. She wasn’t one to wallow in self-pity, but for fuck’s sake she almost had it. She almost lived a life in ignorance, free of fated bullcrap and withdrawal symptoms. Now she was facing her options: to run away immediately, to finish the job and hopefully never stumble on him, or to search for him. The latter wasn’t an option, and to leave without finishing the job was unprofessional. Lidia had asked her to be there to photograph that piece, the last concert date of the boy band in Europe, and she felt obligated to carry it through. They had an exclusive interview for their culture magazine and those photographs would make the fans go insane. Her professional code was above all else, she had fought tooth and nail to achieve everything she had. She vowed to never let her soulmate change her and it would certainly not start now.

Avoiding the person would probably be impossible, she considered, still following Lidia. The stadium was packed with fans and crew, there was no avoiding whoever it was. Since people kept passing through her constantly, she thought their bond must be pretty strong. Otherwise, how could it be that the sensation wasn’t fading as the person walked past her? They probably weren’t even walking past her. They were just somewhere in the vicinity.

There was no photoshoot scheduled, just the interview. When they walked into the artists' backstage lounge it was relatively quiet. There were seven, distinctively sitting in the corner of the room that had been lit and specially prepared for the occasion. Freya was surprised the artist’s crew had prepared that small arrangement for the interview, as it would usually be up to the magazine to arrange it.

She stayed by the door and grabbed her camera, pulling it to her face.

Lidia walked ahead with a gorgeous smile, “Hello everyone! Are we late? I hope you didn't wait long.”

The question was rhetorical, they were well ahead of time. Freya was immediately immersed in seeing life through her lens. She would do what she did best, soulmate pull bothering her or not.

She did not pay attention to the conversation between Lidia and the publicists, managers, and whoever else. She was certain Lidia pointed at her because she saw it through her camera.

"Just ignore her," Lidia said with a smile, glancing back at the camera. Lidia knew she liked to work in peace.

She wasn't a photographer who would take a thousand pictures to be able to choose one. She would take ten to choose five. That meant being very conscious of every angle, light, positioning, and framing. Everything had to be perfect. She had won awards for pictures she barely had to edit precisely because of her attention to detail. In warzones, she was severely limited in time and supplies, she had to make due. It wasn't the same circumstance, but her work ethic applied.

She liked seeing the crew work around them tirelessly and she wasn't shy about snapping photos of them. She was certain then that the concert was only about 20% the actual musicians. Not to diminish their work, but the show itself was not of their making. They were just starring in it.

The interview was well underway when she turned to the artists themselves. That wasn't problematic, their smile wouldn't change between the first and last question. She actually believed they'd relax more as the questions progressed, making their photos portray their true nature better.

Those thirty minutes flew truly by. She quickly scanned the photos she took through the view screen to make sure she had all seven in perfect soul-capturing moments, but she frowned. There was one that was different. He was speaking in the photo she took, he had an honest expression, and a beautiful complexion, but she didn't feel like the photo was as good as the others. He wasn't captured as well.

She raised her eyes to look at him and her heart jumped a beat. He was looking down, hands over his crossed legs. His hair was beautifully styled over his forehead, he looked almost like a doll. He sure was frozen, but she knew he was listening. His bandmate was answering a question in English and Lidia laughed, not too loud but not fakely either. That man smiled, not out of politeness, but out of understanding. Out of deeper thoughts. Something more meaningful.

Click.

She hadn't even thought of it, she had to capture it. Her stomach was twisting, she wasn't feeling too well. Damned soulbond shenanigans. She usually did very well in crowds, but she suddenly felt claustrophobic. She slipped through the entrance door and left. She was fighting hard for what was happening so as not to ruin her day.

He was barely containing himself. He had an urge, an energy pulse that wanted to pull at him and take him somewhere. He was sitting as still as he could, respectfully listening to the interview and answering when appropriate. He felt his smile might give it away, so he kept looking down. Some of the others noticed and touched him soothingly in worry, patting his back or shoulder softly. He stayed quiet, he couldn’t tell them yet.

When the journalist left and the room emptied a bit in the last ten minutes before the final preparations, he was finally free.

"What's wrong, Yoongi?" Hoseok was worried.

"Yeah, why didn't you answer the next album question?" Namjoon’s tone wasn't of irritation, just curiosity. "It's your question."

"You were really stiff too," Jimim commented with a concerned pout. They were next to each other and Jimin had at one point patted his lower back.

"Guys, let him talk," Seokjin interfered, waving his hand in front of his face. Was he getting hot? Cause Yoongi was burning up, and sweating without the show even starting.

"Look at him, he's flustered," Taehyung commented, looking at him from real close. Yoongi scoffed and brushed him away.

"Here's water, hyung," Jungkook offered him a water bottle which he gladly took.

"Guys," his voice sounded weird even to him. Since when was it this emotional? "I feel it."

"What?"

"Are you sick?"

"Don't push yourself too hard."

"Guys!" He grabbed Taehyung by the shoulders, who was still close and personal. He would have been annoyed if the occasion was different, he really didn’t care now. "I feel it. Her. She's here somewhere tonight. I feel it right now."

Chaos ensued, with some congratulations and some worries echoing throughout the room. They barely had a minute to discuss it with their manager Sejin, the first to be informed.

They were rushed to the level underneath the stage and the manager just smacked Yoongi’s shoulder, "Focus on the show. We'll find her after."

He was nervous now, and not about the show. His mind was processing the facts now. The person wasn't in the crew, he would have felt it before. It had to be someone who entered the venue when he felt it. That could be anyone, from fans to workers, and little could be done to slim the number down from tens of thousands to one. That thought made him despair. How would he ever find her in so many people?

"Hey," Namjoon had his hand over his shoulder. His eyes had a glint of concern, but his expression exuded confidence. "She feels you too." Yoongi nodded, taking a deep breath. "She'll probably come forward after the concert."

"She's probably an ARMY," Hoseok winked. Yoongi just shrugged, he didn't care if she was. That was the least of his concerns right now.

"Just think this is for her, for all of them," Jimin added with a light smile.

Yoongi nodded and rushed to the stage, the same as them. He gave it his all. He was exhausted, but he wasn't giving up. He knew he shocked his brothers because he had probably never shown such a performance before. He couldn't explain it. He had newfound energy, and hope. Things would be different from now on, for the best. The thought that she was listening, and seeing him perform gave him an extra incentive. He teased the public way more than usual. He rarely displayed his English skills as openly, but the circumstances told him she couldn't be Korean. Whoever she was in that crowd, he wanted to make sure she knew they could communicate. Could she even tell it was him? She was probably as lost as he was.

The pull was hard. Freya was facing the whole crowd from that spot, near the stage. She could easily take pictures of the stage, as well as the fans. She was trying to focus on her job, but something kept interrupting her. Sometimes she would feel goosebumps all over her body, though she did not know why. Maybe if that guy stopped talking on the microphone all the time, she could actually hear herself think.

She rubbed her eyes with a sigh; the show was almost ending, it would be over soon. She was particularly snappy because of the bond-induced tension, she knew that. She would be able to leave as soon as it ended, just a little while longer.

Or so she thought. The venue started emptying and Lidia insisted for them to stay. She didn't complain at first, taking pictures of the heartbroken fans when the show ended. Most of them were emotional, tears staining their faces, but they were smiling. For them, it must have been a life experience to see BTS on stage. If only Freya could have appreciated it as much. She also wanted to cry. She wanted to run away so badly.

The venue was nearly empty when a publicist showed up to call for Lidia. Apparently, there were some matters left to discuss. Lidia nudged Freya, saying how nice it was of them to let them experience the concert for free before getting back to business. Freya knew it was nice, but she just shrugged. She wanted to leave.

But she couldn't, Lidia was her ride. She could always run away either way, but it wasn't professional.

"Do you want me to come with you?" She asked, willing.

"No, it's just a meeting. Footage of the fans leaving, the empty poststage and backstage, or even the tired artists are more important. Make it count," Lidia winked before leaving. She probably didn't notice Freya’s expression, as excited as if she was sucking on a sour lemon.

She needed to calm down, she thought. She had to be professional above all else. She could not, and would not, have that stupid occurrence ruin her photojournalist reputation. Over her dead body.

She exited the designated area, aimlessly taking shots whenever she felt it was worth it. She had her bag with other lenses that she would switch occasionally. She got lost.

Yoongi was despairing. He couldn't help it. He wasn't even listening to the argument anymore. He was focused on the feeling, on the internal drum. He was panicked that it was going to disappear in a heartbeat.

"There's nothing we can do! We can't prevent the fans from leaving the venue, we can't force them to leave one by one. Not to mention that just touching the subject would immediately destroy any option of privacy for Yoongi or his soulmate." Sejin was being reasonable, everyone knew that. But one glance at Yoongi's face said it all. It was not enough.

Namjoon kept arguing, but Yoongi turned around to face the mirror, closing his eyes. He felt someone behind him.

"Do you still feel it?" Jungkook’s kind voice asked.

He nodded with his heart tight in his chest. He did feel it, he felt it better now, if that made sense. It was called a pull for a reason. He felt pulled, compelled to move, to go somewhere. He didn't know where, he didn't know if it worked and it was probably not safe for him to leave that room. But he felt it as though he was a compass with an arrow juggling around. No one was going to find her but him. And he absolutely couldn't lose her.

He opened his eyes and confidently walked out, not paying attention to anyone. He didn't notice his brothers calling or manager Sejin telling them to let him go. The venue was nearly empty, maybe one-fourth of the fans were still around. He still felt her, so maybe they had a chance.

He walked to the higher levels completely on a gut feeling. He hadn't even changed outfits or showered yet, he was straight out of the stage with a gray hoodie and black tight pants. He had a black headband over his hairline that kept his short dark brown hair from falling down his eyes and the sweat from dripping. None of it mattered though, he didn’t have time to look presentable, he needed to find her.

When he reached the higher level, he wasn't even afraid to meet fans, the thought didn’t occur to him. He just stumbled, numb. He could barely feel it anymore, it was like a pulled elastic at the end. It was still there, and so was she. Yet, for a second his chest filled with anguish and it physically hurt. He had no sense of direction anymore. Nothing made sense anymore. He was failing and it was useless, he had no idea of what to do.

People were starting to mumble around him and he was brought back to reality. He needed an escape, to hide the repressed feelings that were starting to make his chest hurt. There was a door in front of him. He entered the room, slamming the door behind him.

Freya was walking aimlessly, completely lost. There weren't that many people around and she wasn't really interested in taking pictures anymore. The moment had passed. She hoped to catch the band leaving, knowing that was the kind of shot her magazine could appreciate for the online version of the article.

The more she kept going, the more sure she became that she was going the wrong way. She was effectively ignoring her surroundings and just going. The crew was going in the opposite direction, the fangirls and security too. She tried convincing herself that was totally normal. It was totally her own will taking her somewhere in order to snap more pictures. It was not that gut-wrenching pull telling her she had to be somewhere.

She was walking down a corridor when she suddenly froze. Her body was burning up, her heart racing out of control, but her gut clearly knew that was it. No need to go further. She was deaf at that point, the bond so strong it was a deafening physical energy current around her pushing her in only one direction: the door in front of her.

Everything else was muffled and unimportant. Yet from the outside of the door, she could already feel she shouldn’t open it. The force was so strong it was numbing. Her hand hovered over the door knob and she wondered how it wasn't vibrating with the resonance of such a powerful pull. She wanted to fight it with all of her strength, and her hand trembled. It would change her life forever if she opened that door. She didn't want that to happen.

But she wasn't strong enough, it was just so much stronger than her. She succumbed to it, fatefully so. She grabbed the doorknob and tried to rationalize it. It couldn’t hurt to see him at least once, or at least to tell him she wasn't and wasn't ever going to be interested. Yeah, that's it. That was why she had to get in there. It wasn't that person's fault and she should at least tell him that.

She entered the room quickly, a small meeting room, and closed the door without turning. Inside, the pull became like a magnetic field, all around them like walls, instead of a single string. She turned slowly around and saw a man standing behind the center table, having risen from his chair, staring at her in shock. He was different than she expected, though she expected nothing. He looked tired, that was her first thought. Why was he so tired? His dark brown hair was wet with sweat and falling over his headband. His eyes were smaller than she would expect, and darker. His skin was so pale she wondered if it was porcelain; was that makeup? He was her height it would seem, though bulkier than her. That hoodie did not give much away, but he looked comfortable. She was somewhat happy he was comfortable, despite his tiredness.

Her eyes were glued to him like nothing else existed because nothing else did. She was walking slowly in his direction, completely unaware. She had heard of the trance but she never thought it would be that strong. Her body moved on its own, her mind clouded as if she was high on drugs. She was such a strong-willed person, and yet it seemed all her convictions evaporated. Her legs were jello and would only move in his direction. She argued that it was only physical, her mind was still alert. Yet they were a step away from each other when she recognized her own lie. Her mind was as interested as her body, especially because she recognized him. But from where?

They shouldn't have touched, she thought. As soon as their hands did there was no denying it. There was no reasoning that could explain what was happening, except soulmating. Her chest filled with cheer bliss while her whole body warmed up like crazy as if she was a firework ready to pop in a million colors. And it was strange to recognize the same sort of emotion in such foreign eyes, in a stranger's face. She felt endeared by that face, propelled to care for that person with the clear consciousness that she did not know him. And her heart, or should she say soul, was at peace with it.

She struggled with that thought. First, because she thought they would instantly love each other blindly or something, and she didn’t want that to happen. Second, because it confirmed her own theories that soulbonding would erase her sense of self, her autonomy, and her individuality. She would be damned if she’d ever let any of that happen.

She knew nothing would ever feel the same or compare to him. However, knowing it in theory or feeling it in practice were very different things. Every particle of her body and soul agreed that was it, her other half, and no other person, relationship or bond would ever replace it. She looked at her hands in his and she had to close her eyes for a second to control her emotions. The urge to hug him was making her toes curl.

“What’s your name?”

Her eyes jumped to him and widened. She knew him, she heard his voice a lot tonight. She pictured him without the headband in a pretty black suit and she gasped. He was one of the guys from the band! She was completely shaken to her core; how was that possible?! Weren’t they from the other side of the world?

Then she shook her head, but of course he was. He didn’t live in Berlin, or else they’d have met before. He only happened to come to Berlin, and she only happened to be invited to work that piece last minute. Lidia would call it fate.

“What’s your name?”

His voice gave her goosebumps. He was saying it in English, not German, but she was totally fine with it. Despite the slight demand from his voice, he was using a loving tone. A soft caress to her ears meant to not trouble her. But she was troubled, deeply. She fought to keep her mouth shut, clenching her teeth and looking away. She saw his chest heave to take in a breath before insisting on knowing her name and she panicked. She couldn’t deny him if he kept asking, her soul wouldn’t allow it. So she kissed him.

She censored herself for a millisecond before their lips touched. Kissing him went against everything she stood for. First and foremost, because she was invading his privacy, his personal space. She was attacking him, sexually assaulting him for fuck’s sake. Soulmate or not, that couldn’t be taken lightly. Second, because it was disrespectful as a whole to kiss someone without knowing if they consented. What if he had a girlfriend or was married? Third, because she wanted to keep her distance from her soulmate. They were never supposed to have met, let alone touch or kiss. She wanted to leave, run away, and never look back. No matter the pain it would cause them both. That was too selfish of her and the more they dove in, the more she would hurt him, wound him. His soul, the other part of her. He was an unlucky bastard to be fated to be her other half.

Despite the flawless logic in all of those thoughts, she couldn’t stop her lips and he didn’t seem to mind. He was surprised for a second, before supporting her waist with his hands carefully while she grabbed his head in place. For someone who wanted to run away as soon as possible, she sure was keeping him firmly in her grip.

She forced him to walk back until he was against the wall. She did so because now he had nowhere to go, she could press her body against him. She felt absolute ecstasy running through her blood. She could not stop kissing him. She could not be stopped. She vaguely thought the only way would be for him to ask it, and she doubted he ever would.

His hands stayed respectfully at her waist, frustratingly so. It was infuriating in a way how he seemed to be more in control than she was when she was the one who didn’t want this to happen. She should be outraged that they were kissing without her consent. She didn’t have the mind space to think about that though, she would reflect on being a hypocrite later.

For now, his lips tasted like heaven. She was going into all the corny tropes because they fit exactly how she felt. She was riding the wave of a rush and it was divine. She had never been high on LSD or cocaine, but she imagined it came close to that. Her tongue had no problems invading his mouth, provoking hot waves of pleasure to reverberate through her whole body. The way he just accepted it, as if giving her the full reins of it, stupidly turned her on, egged her on. He was the only one who could stop her, why didn’t he?

She fought hard to stop their makeout session and pulled away, panting uncontrollably. She was eating him alive. So much for saying ‘goodbye, let’s never see each other again’.

“You… What's your name?”

Their faces were still glued together, his arms around her. She pushed herself away and turned to the side, covering her mouth with her right hand. Somehow, pulling away from him exhausted her. She felt like even gravity was against her. She stayed like that, panting at a short but safe distance, looking at him.

After a moment of silence, he walked to a chair and sat down. The corners of his lips were raised in a small smile, he looked calm. He had all the time in the world, it seemed. Well, she didn't, she had other things to do. Like running away and never look back. Stupid soulbond was too heavy, her legs were stomped.

He pointed at the chair across from him, on the other side of the table. "Please, sit."

She wanted to scream. He was being so gentle, so condescending. Was she an idiot that couldn't keep herself away? Y- No. She wasn't a fangirl. She was a hard-working adult. An award-winning photojournalist. She was in control. Mostly. She couldn't even look away from him, that empty chair had nothing on him.

She tried calming herself down. She took her camera strip out of her neck, letting the camera sit on the table, and then she also dropped her lens bag on the floor next to it. Her breathing was stabilizing and she swallowed dryly. He was patiently waiting for her. He looked like a mythological God observing her, a mere mortal, to cope with his presence. And she had all the intentions of kneeling and begging for whatever mercy he could give.

She scoffed and pulled her copper hair back, out of her face. It was good. That soulmate thing… It was strong. She never thought it would get to that point. She knew when to admit defeat. And that was certainly, still, not the time to.

She took a step forward, convinced that she was in control. She was going to put her hand on his shoulder and say, ‘I’m sorry it had to be me. I’m not interested. Let’s forget this ever happened.'

Her hand actually hovered over his shoulder for a moment, when her blue eyes deviated to the exposed skin of his neck. Her hand trembled while she struggled between her wills, visceral thoughts opposing one another. He must have seen her inner battle because he extended his hand and guided hers to his shoulder calmingly. It tipped the scales.

Her hormones, body, whatever it was took control. What she wanted beyond him didn’t matter, no one beyond him mattered. She felt like everything in life was secondary, a faded background, dim against his brightness. There was only one thing she wanted.

Her leg heaved to the other side of him and she sat on top of his legs. He seemed to be expecting her lips when she leaned forward to greet him. His hands went to rest carefully by her waist while hers kept by his neck. He was taking her kisses fully, meeting her passion without ever imposing. But she was hungry. She started grinding herself against him and as soon as she could feel his hard-on clearly through his pants and her shorts, she just couldn’t stop anymore.

Her mind became foggy and nothing else but their pleasure meant anything. There was something at the end of the rainbow and she wanted it. Not want, want. Like the need to breathe. He grunted and parted their lips, trying to look around, at them, at her.

She got up with a weird sense of ease. She unbuttoned her shorts without ever dropping her eyes from him. His, however, accompanied the fabric’s descent down her naked legs. She pulled her panties down in the same motion and he seemed to understand. His expression was now serious, as she imagined hers. She wanted it, like oxygen. Like daylight. He could stop it though. One word and her world would crumble.

He extended his right hand for her to take. She took it and got closer. He meant to get up, but she stopped him. She unbuttoned his pants herself while her heart drummed in her chest. It wasn’t even about what he was going to look like or anything of the sort. She just had to feel him.

She got on his lap and immediately pulled his erection out. It was hard and shiny, extending proudly upwards. Their eyes met and no words were spoken. His hands were on her hips and she just did what she was supposed to. She sat down.

It had never felt that way before. She was never the most sexual person, but it was not supposed to feel like that. If she had a will, it vanished then. Her completeness could not be described. It was like an explosion of color, like a gust of wind, like the stars on the black pane of the universe. She was a boat looking to anchor, he was the nest she came to sleep in.

Once the cosmic waves were done resonating in her nerves, she opened her eyes, aware. It was like seeing everything blurry and then putting on glasses. She understood. She could barely think, but she knew she understood. And looking at his eyes, she knew he did too. His arms raised around her in a tight embrace to keep her close while her hips started rolling. She felt embraced, and accepted, like a promise was being made. Their bodies were giving something to each other because that was the only way their souls could be one again. That pleasure making her skin stretch was the extent their souls would ever touch each other. That was sad in a way, making her feel anguish. Yet he kissed her chest, right over her heart, making her come to an almost full stop. He was promising. She started moving again. That promise would only be real if they committed. If their souls actually touched and joined.

She had never felt pleasure like that. She thought she would reach her orgasm very soon, but somehow there was more. Like an endless staircase to heaven. He grew impatient with kissing her shirt and forced it out. She gladly helped. His lips on her skin were everything, and she moaned through clenched teeth at the shock. His tongue darted out to feel her breasts, contouring her bra edges and sneaking in as much as he could. She was still going, jumping as low as possible so he could do it. She grew impatient and her hands reached her back to release the bra when he stopped her.

He grabbed her hands, “No, don’t stop.”

It was a catalyst, if there could be one. His hands groped her firmly everywhere while she got lost in the feeling of riding him. She was now moaning with every motion, so ready to reach him whenever he was.

He grunted from the back of his throat, “Fuck.”

She nodded approvingly and felt the instant he was ready. She forced his hands on her breasts to squeeze hard while she sat down strongly a few times, making him go so deep it nearly hurt.

Only it was pure bliss. She closed her eyes and all she could see was golden. Golden waves with particles of light. Her body trembled in spasms, her voice muted without breath. Her body felt like it was hovering in a breeze, floating. She could feel his hands, his body, inside and out. She felt warm and safe. Home.

It lasted maybe fifteen seconds. Then, the golden waves receded, the lights disappeared like stars in the morning sky, her body floated softly to the ground, and it was done. Her head fell over his shoulder and his hand came to rest on her hair. They were both panting. They promised, it was done. She was hugging him as tightly as she could. She was scared to open her eyes.

You can go here to keep reading [ao3] (this story is finished) 💜

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notyourhetloki · 1 year ago

Text

human after all (Rust Cohle x Reader)

Reader: she/her

/NSFW Rust Cohle x Fem!Reader/

A/N: Hellooo how are you guys doing? Look, I decided to write about a more niche character this time: Rust Cohle from True Detective. There ain’t many x reader fics about him so I decided to give it a go! My writing’s not the best, English is not my native language and Rust is a hell of a complex guy… so take it easy on me, ok? His characterization might be ooc. With that being said, it’s good to be back! Requests will be open soon ;)

Warnings: Use of (Y/N), pinning, slow burn, probably ooc, unprotected sex, piv sex

Word Count: 4k

—

As a secretary in your local police station, your days were filled with calls and lots of paperwork. The occasional chit-chat with coworkers made the hours go by quicker, and you were thankful for that.

You always made coffee, offering a mug to whoever agent was closer... and that would usually mean Martin.

"Sugar?" Asking with a grin, you watched as he sat next to his coworker.

"Yes, dear. As sweet as that smile of yours." He flirted playfully. You were used to it by that point, but deep down you wished the advances came from his colleague instead...

You knew Rust Cohle, but mostly through others. Knew that he was an intellectual with a not-so-bright vision of life, that he was particularly unconventional in the field and didn't have many (if any) friends. All that and you still found yourself having a crush on him... how promising.

Not your fault the man's as handsome as can be. Solid, looking like he could have been chiseled from stone aside from his soft honey-colored hair. Strong features, nose, jaw... Astonishingly tall, muscular arms, big hands... Yet his eyes had a frail quality to them, avoident but observing every single little detail everywhere, all at once. His stoic demeanor didn't frighten you, only pulled you closer, closer...

The next day you decided to be brave... dressed in new clothes, put on perfume and went to work looking extra good. He'd have to acknowledge you at some point...

Arriving at the office, you prepared coffee as usual, pouring it into two mugs that time, only one containing sugar.

You walked to their desk and served Rust first. "Black? I assumed..." He looked... surprised. It'd been ages since you served him coffee, mostly because he didn't ask for it and you didn't want to bother him. "Yes, (Y/N). Thank you."

Your heart skipped a beat when you heard your name coming out of his mouth, and smiling like a fool you served Martin his own coffee.

"Thank you, darling. Is that a new skirt? Looks good on you." You smoothed your palms on the fabric over your thighs and noticed Rust looking at them, eyes fixated on your nervous fingers. After a few seconds, his eyes flickered to yours momentarily, sending butterflies to your stomach. "Y-Yes, thank you, Martin."

As you left, you tried your best to suppress a smile. Had he finally noticed you? What did he think? Would you ever be able to decipher any of that man's thoughts?

A few days went by with your routine set like that: You would arrive, make coffee, serve Rust then Martin, go back to work. Rust would occasionally look at you, and Martin would always flirt. You fed from Rust's looks alone but tried your best not to seem eager, always maintaining some distance... you didn't want to harass him.

It had been a long shift at work, Rust had given you a good up-and-down stare that burned at your chore, finally starting to get comfortable with your presence. He even called you 'dear' at some point, gaining a sincere smile from you. The day would've been perfect if it weren't for your car breaking down, leaving you dependent on public transportation.

You sat at the bus stop waiting, when suddenly a red pickup truck pulled over next to you. The last thing you expected was for Cohle to emerge from the vehicle, cigarette in hand while opening the passenger door and signaling for you to come in.

"I'll give you a ride." He demanded nonchalantly, not even looking at you while inhaling the fumes. Shocked and pleasantly surprised, you felt heat rising to your cheeks as you got up and closer to him.

"Oh, Rust! Thank you..." You managed to say while entering the car, not wanting to miss that opportunity. You felt optimistic, but still wondered why on earth did he have that initiative.

He closed your door and went on to sit next to you, he was so close... he smelled like smoke and wood.

The drive to your home was silent, other than the country music on the radio. He pulled over at the front of the apartment complex you lived in, and you had an idea. "Would you like to go inside? I have a couple of beers left in my fridge." You shyly offered, and after a couple of seconds of him seeming to consider it, he slowly nodded yes, getting out of the car and following you to your door.

You couldn't believe what was happening, Rust Cohle was in your home, the both of you alone together. You hoped the alcohol wouldn't make a fool out of you.

As you handed him his beer, you locked eyes for a brief second as his fingers brushed yours, you blushed and hoped he didn't notice.

"So, how’s the case? Any progress?" Rust didn't seem the type to enjoy small talk, but you tried your best to make this less awkward and actually get to know him a bit better.

He seemed pensive, looking down at his beer as he swirled it around.

"We’re workin' on it… as much as it allows us to." His voice a deep monotone tune. Cohle looked almost defeated, tired like he held the weight of the world on his back... maybe he did.

You didn't want to remind him of that weight, so decided to try something a little more bold.

"Alright, enough with the morbid work stuff, huh? What do you like to do for fun?" You asked innocently, always looking at him to see his reactions... he didn't reciprocate.

Rust looked amused enough though, swirling his drink as the corner of his mouth twitched into a millisecond of a smirk. "I drink."

"More of a stay-at-home kind of guy, I see… me too. Other than the occasional out dancing with friends." You confessed, hoping it would get something out of him.

"You like dancing?" He finally looked up but never dared to look at your eyes. Instead, he glanced in the direction of your neck. "Dancing’s a good distraction."

"Distraction?" You found that funny somehow, so you smiled as you hid a strand of hair behind your ear. "From what?"

"Whatever this is." He gestured to the air, wondering about life.

You felt for him, felt for his pain and grief. You wanted to get to know it, get to know the way he thinks and the reasons behind it.

"What’s your distraction? Beer?" You'd say, his striking eyes never leaving the pendant on your neck.

"Pretty much. Although I don’t find myself as distracted as I’d like to be."

Finally, Cohle let out a sigh through his nose and flicked his eyes toward yours. You held the contact for as much as you could, but his piercing eyes had an effect on you, like he was stripping you naked with his pupils.

Hot and bothered it was your time to look away, taking a sip of your beer as you searched for a place for your eyes to set... they settled on his shoes.

"You’re probably wondering why the hell you’re here with me n' not out with your friends dancing." His voice came as a surprise, filling the room with his presence and exposing the fact he cared at least minimally for the situation. He didn't want to bore you, and that weighed on your chest.

"I like your company, Rust." You admitted, soft-spoken. Gathering the courage to look up, you found his eyes hovering on your lips, so you continued.

"It’s… calm. There’s a soothing quality to it, makes it easy for me to trust you."

He blinked once, twice, then closed his eyes to gulp his beer, finishing it. Rust seemed to get lost in thought for a few moments, before realizing you were there again. He slowly came over to you, handing you his empty bottle before almost whispering. "Thanks for the beer."

You smiled, your hands touching again. You shuddered at the contact that lingered one too many seconds that time. His eyes were on you now, and you tried your best to keep it that way.

"Thanks for the ride." You ran your fingers through your own hair, and Rust's gaze followed your hand as you did so. He swallowed before settling for your eyes again, holding eye contact. It looked like it felt difficult, like his life depended on it.

"Anytime..." His voice softer. You drank the last of your beer while maintaining the stare, some deep urge in you waking up with every passing second. You wanted him, God you wanted him.

Moments went by and the silence was interrupted by his voice once again. "I think I should get goin'." Part of you wanted him to stay, the other part didn't want to seem desperate.

You gently nodded, a quiet "Ok." leaving your mouth. "I'm here if you ever need anything, Rust."

He offered a quick and sweet half-smile which you gladly retributed.

Fidgeting with your pendant, you guided him to the door, where he leaned over for a final farewell.

"G'night, (Y/N)." His voice was gentle now, almost caring. But you didn't want to assume he felt anything at that point.

"Goodnight, Rust."

You went to sleep that night thinking about him, remembering how close he was to you, his smell, his voice... his avoidant eyes caught yours just a few times but it was enough, at least for you.

The next day, Cohle looked rugged. His tired expression more evident than usual, even Martin commented on it. "Damn, Rust... do you ever sleep?"

To which he replied. "I don't sleep, I dream." Well, that explained at least half of the reason for his demeanor. Yet you sensed that there was something more to it, something he was keeping secret.

When serving Rust his morning coffee, he didn't look at you. You found that odd, fearing you might have offended him the night before... but in the end, you brushed it off as him just being tired.

Pondering for reasons why Cohle had been so dreadful that day, you finished work and headed home with the man never leaving your thoughts. Something was going on, and you couldn't quite put your finger on it.

At your apartment, you decided to take a shower and change into some shorts and a baggy T-shirt before starting to prepare dinner. As you were finishing, you heard the doorbell ring. What a weird time for a visitor, it was late already.

You opened the door carefully to see a defeated Rust, there was a certain desperation in his face, something urgent you couldn't quite read. "I brought beer." He offered pathetically.

To be surprised was an understatement, you never expected Cohle to show up, much less in that state. It rendered you speechless but in a good way... if something was bothering him, he at least trusted you enough to come over and share a drink.

He was still in his work clothes, but the first three buttons of his shirt were undone, his tie loose around his neck. He had dark circles under his eyes and his hair was not as tightly combed through as usual, he looked like a handsome mess.

Urging him to come in, you grabbed the beers and closed the door. You opened two bottles and handed his to him, not caring as much for the momentary touch. You were worried, wanted to help him release all that baggage, to release something.

"So, what are you trying to distract yourself from today? Besides work, of course." You requested softly, a small considerative smile across your face as you referenced the conversation from the night before.

"My programming." He looked down as if in shame, thumb drawing circles on his beer lip. He was confessing to you, and you needed to make sure you understood him.

"What do you mean by that?" You moved yourself to face him completely now, resting on your kitchen counter next to him.

Rust seemed contemplative, looking up to the ceiling as he fidgeted with his bottle. He breathed in and out, taking his time.

"We are things that labor under the illusion of having a self; an accretion of sensory, experience and feeling, programmed with total assurance that we are each somebody, when in fact everybody is nobody. Better to just deny our basic programming and move on with our meaningless lives until extinction." He kept looking up, and you wondered why he averted your eyes at that point. Was he... nervous? You couldn't come up with a reasonable answer.

Ignoring most of the morbid absurd take, you focused on what related to him, and hoped he went with it.

"Deny what makes us human?" You inquired, purposely looking at him with the intent to catch his gaze.

"Exactly." That answer got to you, he couldn't possibly believe that he was above humanity, right? He certainly seemed to... maybe that was the reason behind his apparent guilt.

"But you are a man, Rust. Programming and whatnot, you have goals, ambitions, desires…" You grew closer, then. Close enough to touch, and how you wanted to touch... to prove to him how alive he was.

"Our desires can become our owners. They paralyze us and dictate the way we go, spoiling our brains." Cohle slowly looked down, eyes meeting your neck once again. He seemed interested in your words, appreciating he had at least someone to talk to.

"Or they can lead us to good fulfilling experiences… you can’t predict the consequences, Cohle. Can’t predict if the bad outweighs the good or not."

You were met with silence. His thumb no longer fretting with the bottle, his eyes no longer on your neck... He looked at your lips, then your nose, your eyes, as if to memorize every detail, as if he was going to lose you.

"They can ruin us." A whisper through his half-open mouth. The low kitchen light reflecting off his angled face... he looked beautiful.

"What’s ruining you, Rust?" You inched even closer, now directly in front of him. You could breathe the same air as him, felt the weight of it. His eyes lingered on yours for the first time that night. "What is it?" The words left your mouth like honey, sweet and smooth.

After a few seconds, his gaze lowered to your lips, to your neck, to your lips again. He was fragile, then, like fine china. He blinked his half-lidded eyes many times before talking lowly, barely a whisper. "You smell good. You... look good."

Your heart had already been racing that whole time, but now seemed like it would stop completely at any second. Rust Cohle wanted you, and it was eating him alive.

To be the reason for his undoing was an honor, but you would never do anything to hurt him. You wanted to make him feel good, wanted to cherish and love him... you wondered if he would ever let himself feel loved.

"I’m not going to ruin you." A gentle reasoning left your lips, making his eyes meet yours once again. Rust then lifted his beer towards you to make his next point.

"You don’t know that. You can't predict the consequences, can you?" Your own words used against you, but it was not going to work so easily.

"There’s only one way to find out. Or would you rather ruminate that thought until it spoils?"

Silence once again, you had rendered him speechless... a small personal victory you could brag about later. You grabbed his bottle from his hand and placed it alongside yours on the counter, making so his full attention was on you.

Rust looked at your eyes longingly, full of raw emotion. That proved your point even further, he was only human after all.

"What does your programming want from me today, Rust?" You cautiously dared to place a gentle hand on the side of his cheek, circling your thumb to caress his warm skin. Afraid of him retrieving, your touch trembled... but he remained still.

Instead, he took his time to savor the touch, blinking slowly and relaxed. You sighed in relief as you realized you could stand like that for hours, loving the way he seemed to actually enjoy it.

But by the time you knew it, he was holding you by the waist. Barely a touch, almost hovering his hands over your body, as if you were going to fade away. He was staring at your mouth then, inching closer until he stopped a few inches from your face, contemplating.

You couldn't hold yourself back, softly closing the distance between you in a chaste kiss on his lips. Slow, careful as to not disturb him.

Your heart drummed in your chest, you could hear it reverberating in your ears. His chapped lips were warm and he tasted like alcohol, but oh how you had dreamed of that moment. You wanted to be surrounded by him, engulfed in his scent and his taste and his skin.

He was still for a few more moments before reciprocating, stiff at first. He seemed nervous.

Wanting to help, you held his face with both hands, anchoring him. Guiding him through as you deepened the kiss, you gradually slid your tongue inside his mouth and waited for his next move.

That made something click within him, like a switch that had been long neglected. Both of his hands grabbed your waist, pulling you even closer tight to his chest. His tongue found a rhythm alongside yours, making you moan in return. God, he was a good kisser... deep and intense like everything else about him.

You parted shortly to breathe and he took the opportunity to plant kisses down your jaw, your neck... hungry and full of need.

Rust then stopped with his lips touching the curve of your neck, like he was hesitant for a second. He breathed deeply through his nose, thinking.

"We won't do anything you don't want to do, Rust." You reminded him, worried that you might have crossed a line. Maybe he needed more time?

That thought fell flat after his hand grabbed yours, guiding your palm as it slid over his torso down his belly... down... down.

His hand led yours to palm his erection through his pants, feeling the heat emanate through the fabric... gosh he was so hard already. You couldn't actually believe you had that effect on him, it felt too good.

"Gosh, Rust... Can- Can I...?" You stuttered while trying to maintain a thought process, his quick response was a muted "Yeah." while still holding his head against your neck.

You slowly undid his belt, then. And even slower reached for his penis inside his pants. Pulling his dick out, you licked your hand before curling around the length of him, stroking him slackly. He looked delicious, the feeling and the vision of his shaft in your hand enough to make you wet.

You could feel him shudder, breathing strongly through his nose. Rust didn't make a sound besides the sharp inhales and shaky exhales. He seemed focused, holding you for dear life.

"I want you, Rust... wanted you for so long." You managed to speak, confessing your deepest secret. His head then lifted to meet your gaze, looking at you deep into your eyes. He saw into you, present like he never had been before.

"How long?" His voice raspy with desire, your hand still working on his cock leisurely as you spoke. "Since you first called my name."

His eyes grew darker, full of need. Eyes on you, your mouth... he had wanted you too, you knew that then.

"Kiss me, Rust..." A tremulous request that he answered immediately, mouths crashing into a deep, desperate kiss. Your hand stroked harder, faster, and he only breathed.

His hands slid down your shorts past your waist to your ass, grabbing soft skin. You hummed in approval, making him tremble. He took your shorts completely off then, along with your panties.

His fingers soon found your aching sex, digits moving in circles on your clit as his other hand continued to grope your ass cheek.

You moaned in Rust's mouth, sensations overwhelmingly good. His fingers working you so well your legs shook in anticipation. It was heavenly, having him in your hand as he kissed and grabbed you like that, nothing could have prepared you for it.

You soon came on his fingers, hard and loud. You shook your orgasm away as Cohle looked at your face, admiring your satisfaction.

"Fuck, (Y/N)..." He said under his breath, taking one then two digits up your pussy, curling them and reaching a sweet spot.

You closed your eyes at the sensation, feeling like you could cry as you rolled your hips to follow his movements... he hummed in approval.

"Rust, please, I need you..." You practically cried out. "Need more..."

His fingers pumped inside you a few more times before he was ready to let go, moving his now soaked digits to your mouth. You sucked on them, tasting yourself. His hungry eyes devouring you.

"Bend over the counter, girl." He ordered quietly, and before you obliged you took off your T-shirt, leaving you bare before him.

Rust admired your form as his breath seemed to catch at the vision. He licked his lips before grabbing one of your breasts with his big hand, massaging the soft delicate tissue of your nipple. You whined before you propped yourself in the position he wanted.

Bending over with your exposed ass up, he moved to stand behind you, caressing the skin of your back.

Rust positioned the tip of his cock at your entrance and slowly made his way in. Easy at first, but quickly building up momentum. His hips slapped into yours, harder with each thrust as you moaned his name out loud. The delicious stretch he gave you drove you crazy, you rolled your hips to meet him halfway and he grunted in response, finally not being able to hold back his noises.

"Wanted you... since I first saw you, (Y/N)... Fuck, I- I needed you."

He needed you. He needed you. You couldn't help repeating those words again and again. Rust Cohle needed you, your presence, your body... and you would gladly give it to him.

He fucked you harsh and good, grabbing at your waist hard enough to leave bruises... you hoped he did. With every thrust you moaned more, mewling his name out loud. His groans dominated the whole room while directly making their way down your aching cunt.

As his pace began to get erratic, you knew he was close. "Cum inside me, Rust... please..." You pleaded.

He suddenly grabbed you by the neck then, inching you even closer. His head rested on the hollow of your shoulder as he made his final moves before cumming, spilling his load inside of you with a growl.

When he finally released his grip, you thanked the counter for supporting your weight. You turned around to face Rust, and he was glowing with sweat, breathing deeply through his nose again.

Feeling cum dripping down your legs, you drew closer to him shyly. You didn't exactly know what to do, so you planted a kiss on his lips and hugged him, expecting him to pull back quickly... he didn't.

Holding you like that for what seemed like ages, Rust's breathing got quieter and slower. He was calm then, and that made your heart swirl with emotion.

When you felt like you could retrieve, you did so looking him in his eyes and holding the sides of his face. He looked so pretty like that, vulnerable... soft, even.

"Would you like to stay over? I made dinner..." You offered, and his gentle smile made you swoon. He held you close still, not ready to let go just yet.

"Dinner sounds nice."

That night, Rust Cohle slept without having any dreams.

—

#rust cohle #rust cohle x reader #true detective #matthew mcconaughey #imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #headcanon #self insert #y/n #notyourhetloki

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rikisniffles · 11 months ago

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chapter nine [西村力] my first love was a boy ✧ NISHIMURA RIKI (NI-KI) X M!READER

SYNOPSIS — l/n y/n is a member of boynextdoor under hybe/koz. being an idol has always been y/n's dream, and ever since it became true he has been more than happy. despite being an idol, he doesn't know many other idols outside his group. when he runs into his seniors, a seemingly never-ending spiral of embarrassing moments occurs.

disclaimer !! : every idol in my stories is a character and does not always reflect the actual person (i do my best but for entertainment purposes, it may be off)

— fic masterlist / info

chapter nine - y/n fell first

warning: written part (after the first image)

“Ni-ki?” Sunoo grabs Ni-ki’s attention from across the table, “Eat some more.” He plates some food, handing it over to the other boy. Ni-ki takes it with a generous nod but keeps his eyes fixated on his phone.

“This generation’s youth and their phones…” Jake sighed, reaching his head to spy on what Ni-ki was doing. Ni-ki hides his screen away from Jake, only making his hyung wish to see it more.

“You’re the same generation as me.” Ni-ki corrects, still hiding his screen as Jake leans further.

“What are you hiding?”

“Nothing, Mind your business.” Ni-ki pushes Jake gently back into his seat, and Jake chuckles in return.

“He’s texting Y/n.” Jay notifies Jake, glancing at Ni-ki’s phone from the other side of him. He has a clear image of the screen. Sunoo seems to perk up, suddenly interested.

“Oh.” Jake seems disappointed, “Why are you hiding that?”

Ni-ki didn’t really know why, but something about it was embarrassing for him, “Just bothering you.” Ni-ki smiles sheepishly before returning to his phone.

Sunoo leans forward, taking a look at Ni-ki’s face as he chews on a piece of meat. Ni-ki takes notice of this, snapping his head up nervously.

“What?”

“Nothing, You look happy.” Sunoo smiles, taking another bite of food. “Are you feeling better?” Ni-ki nods at Sunoo’s question, and he smiles back.

“Y/n asked how I was feeling,” Ni-ki admits, picking up his chopsticks and setting down his phone, “He’s really kind.” Ni-ki has trouble getting the words out, yet he wants to say them so bad. He wants to say so much more.

“Yeahhhh,” Sunoo sings, “I can see you guys being really good friends.” He giggles.

“You’re laughing like an evil villain.” Sunghoon teases, Sunoo pushes his shoulder playfully as they both laugh together.

"I can feel cameras on us." Jay groans, trying to ignore the feeling of being watched as he eats. A white flash signals behind them. Someone had caught them, not that they were hiding anything but it was quite annoying to be bothered every time they did anything in public.

Ni-ki leans over, staring at the fan's phone camera dead on. The flash signals again as they take a picture of him. He wasn't too annoyed but he would've felt better if he looked more presentable. He hoped it wouldn't be spread around too much.

He couldn't help but think about how Y/n would react if he saw those photos.

previous | next | home

— koki's note ★ ; OKAYYY another update, happy 4th of july for my american readers 👍👍 hope yall have a great day !!

taglist (OPEN) : @conwunder @sol3chu @bubblztaro @winuvs @certainsweetssheep @bayshark @starchasing-cryptid @jaeyuunie @tubatu-lovie @icewons @teoluvsyou @forever-atiny @grumble-0

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tiramisumin · 6 months ago

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i see it in your eyes

pairing: park junmin x f!reader 𝜗𝜚 word count: 1.32k 𝜗𝜚 content: fluffish, suggestive towards the end, swearing, best friends to more ig, 🗣️ DIE FOR YOU JUNMIN MENTIONED!!!!!! u have been warned, that performance changes the trajectory of readers life, hunjae stirring the pot before they even know the pot exists, a very Passionate kiss, not beta’d or proofread! u alr know

synopsis: you had never thought of junmin in this light prior to tonight, but you don’t think you could ever see him the same.

୨ৎ watched a fancam that happened to be from one year ago last night and well… let’s just say my fingers had a mind of their own! ur welcome :3

You think you’re going crazy.

Scratch that. You’re positive that you’re going crazy.

One would think that being best friends with Park Junmin of xikers was probably a dream come true. To an extent, you guess you could agree. Junmin was the attentive type. He always had this sixth sense for whenever you needed something. But that was just who he was a person, an idol or not.

Right now, however, you were wishing that you weren’t best friends with Park Junmin.

He, so kindly, invited you to a show of their first tour and as you watch his unit stage with Hunter, you feel yourself slowly descend into insanity. As long as you’ve known him, you have never seen this side of Junmin before. He’s done a pretty good job at separating his idol and personal lives, so even when he was practicing, he’d never let you see. Now you know why.

The way he moves to the song, Die For You by The Weeknd, has your heart stuttering in your chest. You’ve known since his trainee days that he was a good dancer, but for him to evoke such strong emotions from you… Yeah, you were screwed. Royally.

And to put icing on top of the cake, he pulls up his shirt to show the audience his fucking abs.

Under the blue lights and the spell that entrances him every time he performs, Junmin looks breathtaking. Anybody with eyes could see visually that he was attractive, yeah, but for the first time in your friendship, you’re finally seeing it for yourself. His skin glistens ethereally and his expressions capture the mood of the moment perfectly. If you didn’t know better, you’d think you were drooling with how awestruck you are.

Minjae, who was observing the two from off to the side of the stage with you, can’t stop himself from laughing at your reaction. He pats your back as the song draws to a close. The action is supposed to be comforting, yet it’s anything but, considering he was poking fun at you not even two seconds ago. You wish the ground would swallow you whole.

The rest of the concert is kind of a blur, your brain hyper fixating on Junmin’s Die For You performance. Time has long since passed, and the lot of you have found yourselves all crammed in the dorm with a table full of food. Your appetite is hardly there, nerves eating away at you as you sit beside your best friend, unable to look him in the eye.

The two of you haven’t had the chance to talk about the show yet, and you can tell he’s just itching to ask for your opinion. He frowns when he realizes you haven’t touched your plate, something very out of character for you. You’d had an entire discussion about not eating much before the concert so you could enjoy this grand meal with him and his members.

”Is everything—“

Hunter interrupts him with a clearing of his throat. “So, Y/N, how did you like Junmin and I’s stage?”

He wiggles his eyebrows at you and it takes absolutely everything in you not to burst into flames. You dig your nails into your palms before answering. “If your goal was to seduce the crowd, then you guys did a really good job!”

The table erupts into laughter and you silently praise whatever higher being exists that you kept your cool. Minjae makes eye contact with you across the table, pretending to zip his lips and throw the key to the other side of the room. You mouth a ‘thank you’ to him, jumping back into the conversation when someone else asks you about the show.

Ultimately, your dinner continues without a hitch. No one finds out how you truly felt in regards to the Die For You performance, and you assume you’ve made it out scot-free. You should’ve known your best friend was too perceptive for his own good. Especially when it comes to you.

One of the group’s drivers brought you back to your apartment and, of course, Junmin tagged along to ensure you got home safely. The entire drive over there is silent save for whatever music was playing lowly on the radio. There’s a weird tension in the air between you, even as he asks to walk you to your door. As you’re unlocking it, Junmin stops you.

“Did I do something?” He blurts out, halting you from entering your apartment. His hands shove into the pockets of his sweatpants nervously.

“Wh— Huh?”

“You haven’t talked to me much since we got back from the concert. I thought it was just in my head at first, but then we were in the car together and you didn’t say a single word to me. Did I do something to upset you? Please, let me know so I can apologize and never do it again.” He explains.

“No!” You shake your head profusely. “You did nothing wrong, Junmin… I’m just— I’m the one being weird.”

”Can you tell me why at least? It’s gonna bother me all night until you do.” He fiddles with his fingers, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. Part of you is way too embarrassed to admit the true reasoning behind you avoiding him. Though, the bigger part of you is well aware that he would never judge you. And the last thing you need is to keep secrets from your best friend.

“Don’t laugh, okay?” You raise your pinkie, and when he locks it with his own you let out a heavy sigh. “I… can’t stop thinking about the Die For You performance…”

His eyebrows furrow together, eyes cast down at the carpeted floor beneath you in deep thought. God, even when he’s confused, he looks so cute. You might actually explode right here in the middle of the hallway. You had never thought of Junmin in this light prior to tonight, but you don’t think you could ever see him the same. Because of that, you needed to tell him how you felt.

“I don’t underst—“

”I couldn’t stop staring at you, Junmin. You’ve never let me see you that way. You’re always so modest and so shy and I don’t know I— seeing you let go of that on stage, seeing how confident you can be made me feel…” You trail off, averting his intense gaze.

He takes a step closer to you, unwavering when his index finger slides under your chin, lifting it so you’re forced to look at him again. “‘Made you feel’ what exactly?”

Your lips part in surprise, that same confidence from earlier controlling him. His eyes are darker than usual. You swallow thickly when you say, “Like I could fall in love with you.”

Junmin wastes no time connecting your lips in a sweet, passionate kiss. Despite never imagining what it would be like to be in this situation, it’s somehow simultaneously everything you thought it would be. Sparks ignite from where your mouths meet all the way to the tips of your fingers. One of his hands comes up to cup your jaw and the other rests on your waist. Meanwhile, one of yours tangles in his hair and the other fists at the front of his shirt— fittingly a white tank top.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he whispers against your lips, eyelashes brushing your cheeks. “How long I’ve been waiting for you to look at me this way.”

It’s difficult not to gasp into his kiss, a small whine escaping you. Perhaps they weren’t lying when they said boys and girls could never just be friends. You slot your lips with his once more before parting gently, peering up at him with the softest of smiles. “Then show me.”

He doesn’t think twice about urging you into your apartment.

#xikers #xikers x reader #xikers junmin #park junmin #park junmin x reader #junmin x reader #xikers drabbles #junmin drabbles #𐙚 tiramisumin

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manytoonepoet13 · 4 months ago

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"It's a Rainbow of Secrets..."

Cielomort's Sacrifice told in Willmesh's perspective.

~~~

(GUESS WHO'S BACK AFTER A LOOOONG BREAK FROM ANY KIND OF SOCIAL MEDIA.) I am so glad to be back and I can guarantee you lots of quality theories and analyses that will soon follow. I'm particularly excited about the Bouquet of Wishes Theory... I have a lot of thoughts about that song. I really do hope you guys will end up liking it as much as I do. Anywayss, enjoy!!)

(Date Started: July 2024. Date Ended: January 2025)

1.) Visuals.

Around 0:36, we see the way Willmesh, in full color, sat within the grayscaled background. Now, this could mean one of two things: 1.) This reflects how Willmesh feels, who has kept an entire world of emotions within him, reminiscent of colors, sees the world around him gray in comparison to what he feels. Remember, he is described as a highly observant person of his surroundings and has a certain ability to grasp the essence of things, here, the essence being shown through color. And 2.) This represents the world of Fragaria and the concept of memories in this new timeline. Without those memories, this new timeline have lost the true essence of Fragaria, leaving the world grey all around, the only ones in color are the ones who "remember".

0:44 –> 0:53 and 2:20 –> 2:28 may relate to what I've written for Your Melody where basically the knights are fixated on this illusion of a "perfectly peaceful" life that was created by the SEEDS to cover up the truth, and why Merold and Ciel's attempts at "protecting" the ones who are dear to them failed in the long run because their means of defense is no different from the SEEDS' means to attack; to cover up the truth and cover everyone in a veil of ignorance.

From 0:54 –> 1:03 and 2:29 –> 2:35, this relates to my best friend's insights in my Blue Bouquet post (A Bittersweet Love.) where basically she said that "everyone has a feeling of those memories being there, despite not being fully aware of it." how "no matter what happens, it will find a way to override reality for a sense of balance." — @c h a m a l a m.

She related this to the line from "Key My Notes" where Kurode sang: "It may be full of absurdities and even riddled with bugs, however I still love this world so much." Despite the flawed and fragmented the world of Fragaria is, they will always be drawn to wanting these memories back, to want the truth.

But as said, they aren't quite aware of it yet, which explains why the timestamps I've pointed, why the characters are blurry in those scenes. Their memories, the truth, have yet to be clear to them, but in comparison to... let's say, Ever Red — where their memories are shown briefly in-between glitchy transitions, I can say they're getting closer and closer to the truth. Which means... the SEEDS will strive harder to be tougher to beat.

1:04 is most probably a tie to Aozura, a nod to how the sky is meant to symbolize the bad memories of the past. To "Cut out the gotten clouds and blue sky... for they are the footprints of this waving memory, this memory of the blue sky," means to shut those bad memories and emotions away to make room for better ones. The rainbow is an interesting detail as well, accompanied with what looks to be letters ascending. This, I believe, is their symbol of hope. Going back to Aozora we were greeted the sight of books, with Ciel's book specifically opening up to reveal the fluttering pages in the colors of the rainbow.

This scene is something I'd like to tie to Ciel's sacrifice, the presence of books symbolizing Willmesh's involvement with Ciel's sacrifice. Or at least, what he did in preparation to initiate the said sacrifice. (Which is something I've talked about in my poem "The Genius of a Novelist," and my theory "May My Body Carry Time and Unwanted Emotions." (Cielomort Vessel Theory)").

↓

Given Willmesh's unique ability to grasp the essence of things, and that he's Ciel's childhood friend, his involvement may not also be expected, but also needed.

1:04 → 1:35 and 2:49 shows the imagery of a rainy/stormy sky which was followed by colorful scenes. For the prior timestamp, the faint show of rain was still seen overlaying these scenes, only to be flown by, by doves and pieces of paper, I believe.

As I've mentioned before, the SEEDS utilizes their Illusory abilities to become the knights' fixation to overpower them and the world of Fragaria, and this mv is no different. Here, the rain represents the SEEDS and Willmesh's fixation. It is known that Willmesh is quite the shy and elusive individual who struggles in expressing his emotions, assuming that his struggle is an insecurity of his, we can say that, as the SEEDS made sure to have him fixate on the struggle, this will allow them to easily overpower what truly matters to him, therefore making it easier to, let's say, corrupt him.

But like the SEEDS, the knights also represent something within these mvs. And here, they come in the form of the doves, or maybe even the letters or the rainbow since all of them represents hope, but I believe the rainbow is most fitting, for this song is basically "There's always a rainbow after the rain," kind of song.

Though the difference between the two timestamps is that, the timestamp prior still shows the faint show of rain, whereas the latter one was gone in almost an instant – This may show Willmesh's hesitance, uncertainty, but, in time, it shows his acceptance, his perseverance, his want for what's right and true.

That's why in 3:05, we see this scene where it holds the words "Willmesh is the FRAGARIA of Wish me mell." He has finally owned up to his title, finally opening up and faced the storm of his fears, no longer hiding behind the shadows, or under his hood.

In this music video, he learned about how to express his emotions through his letters, through his writing...

2.) Soundtrack

a. Instrumentals.

The thing I enjoyed the most about this song sounded is the juxtaposition between how Willmesh is feeling, in comparison to how the outside world is. This is most noticably shown in the intro, where we begin with Willmesh singing in a softer, slower pace which then is followed by Louter and Myunna's brighter, faster tone, as well as the more joyous music.

For 0:19 though, I'm quite torn between footsteps and the sound of writing on a board with chalk. If it were the former, then it would imply a companion approaching Willmesh to.. let's say support him, or just help him in general. (Fragaria seemingly has this buddy system of sorts).

The shift in pace within the instrumentals may imply the urgency of the situation and they need to act fast, else the world of Fragaria will fall.

3.) Lyrics.

"To whom he wished to admit his first thoughts.

Dear, you who I think of the bright dawn.

Tell me a name of a flower.

Compose a poem you like, and show me."

Here specifically the line: "Compose a poem you like and show me." I thought of how this would be if someone I care about would ask me of that, I would think that I was in a place where basically I have become detached from myself in a way that I'm close to giving up on everything, let's just say I'm not in the right place nor in the right condition to speak about such. And since, you know, as a poet, my tends tends to gravitate towards my feelings and I tend to be more comfortable in expressing those feelings in poem-form because for me, seeing my work, despite it coming from a bad place, it makes the situation a lot better and easier to bear.

"It will surely reach me this way.

I want to greet the sunrise with you.

"Become an unforgettable sky."

This aligns with what I said moments prior, the first line referring to his feelings being shared through his stories as a novelist, the last two referring to hope and memories. With sunrise representing a new day this another chance to bring change – therefore hope. While to "become an unforgettable sky" means to be an everlasting memory as refered in the line of the song "Aozura no Memory".

"The root of the sprout's heart is terribly delicate.

The sound of emotions floating in the silence."

"Wherever you are, even if it's far away."

"If you believe me, we'll reach an understanding."

"Because you're more important to me than anything. I don't think about anyone but you."

"It's a rainbow of secrets."

A lot to talk about here... the first line refers to the intensity of Willmesh's emotions and how it's taking a toll on his body and mind, though he is inept in expressing his emotions, the "sound of emotions floating in silence" is what's happening to him. The next line still related to the previous line: "It will surely reach me this way," though this line here is more of a reassurance rather than a confirmation like the former.

The line "If you believe me, we'll reach an understanding," may relate to the line from Your Melody where they sang "Just listen to them carefully, don't get flustered now," mainly because of how they used "believe" and "listen" in a way where it feels like the two people talking to each other has a genuine, yet equally complicated connection, and who, despite the complications, genuinely wants to be there for each other, to provide support and comfort each other.

Another lines that connect with each other are: "Because you're more important to me than anything. I don't think about anyone but you," and "Even with their fragile heart, above all else, you are my dearest (Tell me, tell me why)." This also relates to what I've said earlier about the connection.

The final line may refer to the things I've talked about in my post about Aozora and Key My Notes, as well as the second episode of Red Bouquet. I would like to add how the usage of "rainbow of secrets" may imply how the colors of the rainbow is not only reminiscent of secrets, but also emotions, a range of emotions to be specific – with red being the strongest of them all.

"Don't look down, beloved seven colors.

Why are your tears so clear?

Like the dusk blotting out the sun.

Like the ever weeping sky.

If only I could light a color in my heart.

Without rain, there won't be a rainbow.

If so, then what are these feelings?

What bridges the gap without a hint of sadness is a heart full of love."

The first two lines may relate to what I've written for the line "It's a rainbow of secrets." Though here, it's shown how even with those "seven colors", Willmesh's tears are still clear, muth to others' confusion because "clear tears" doesn't convey that much. But it makes sense when you take into account how a rainbow appears after white light is being shot through a prism – These emotions appear after the Knight's innocence and want to serve their lord and kingdom is being challenged, in a way.

The next lines may represent the SEEDS, basically in writing (I'd assume it's related to writing since it's quite prominent in the mv and Willmesh is a novelist.), blotting means to cover writing or pictures with ink or paint so that they cannot e seen. What I believe is being shown in these lines is, to blot the sun, means the SEEDS, basically, in writing (I'd assume it's related to writing since it's quite prominent in the mv and Willmesh is a novelist), blotting means to cover writing or pictures with ink or paint so that they cannot be seen. What I believe is being shown in these lines is, to blot the sun means the SEEDS are trying to cover certain things up just to keep them away from the knights. And to be quite honest, I think this is why certain things from kingdoms went missing - they're being "covered up" as to not be seen - a metaphor for the SEEDS making things disappear.

Other than that, I also think this is a tie to Hallritt, especially with what has been revealed in Ever Red, and how he is described in his wiki: "The Proud Sun that Connects the Future", and what Merold said in episode 2, part 1: "The very embodiment of the world of Fragaria" and how he is an "Exceptional Soul".

In Ever Red, the sun is being compared to the very thing that guides the knights to the right path, and for the SEEDS to cover it up, they will be led astray and end up in pain or even corrupted "Like the ever weeping sky."

"If only I could light a color in my heart." is quite similar to "If only I become accustomed to the perfect sound that makes one happy." not because of the way it was written, but rather in the way it conveys their wishes. Both of them wished for this certain thing that they lacked but happened to be quite important in terms of protecting the things they hold dear, yet along with that, they ended up degrading and belittling themselves as well. But instead of staying down, they use this as a means of motivation, to drive them forward and then help themselves to be able to reach those said things that they longed for.

For the last three lines, I'd say this involves yet another question relating to the validity and the worthiness of being able to feel these intense emotions with the "lack of pain" he has. To be quite honest, other than theories and the limited information we were given - which involves the little thing we got about Willmesh's intentions, and the orders he was given by his lord - we still don't know much about him.

I'd say that the "lack of pain" he's feeling comes from the fact that even though he's doing all of this for his lord's happiness like the rest of the knights, the only thing he's doing is basically just following orders, unlike the other knights who are doing these out of free will, not merely following like a pawn. (Meaning, instead of doing it themselves without needing orders from the lord, Willmesh is just depending on his lord's words.)

But even with the lack of sadness, he's still filled with so much love.

"Gather up the words that spilled over (Scratch them off)." Write them down before they get blurry (Write it down). So that I could leave behind just a little bit of my feelings." "I don't know if this fleeting nature is something I can understand. It makes you wish for an eternity in writing. "I wanted to see the scenery passing by together." "I wanted to capture it's unchanging beauty." "Such contradictions make the present more irreplaceable.""

(The first three lines will be discussed in the next segment,) All of these just really relate to memories. The fleeting nature of the present is not enough to convey everything and the sheer depth of it, it's confusing, overwhelming, only wanting what you can't have but desperately need - time. This is why you would want to wish for an eternity in writing just so you'd be able to express everything you need.

This is why one would want to see the scenery together as well, so they would be able to hold onto those memories when they part - "to capture its unchanging beauty" = to forever remember such. And the usage of "contradictions" is quite fitting.

The present is fleeting, yet the beauty of that day is unchanging, it remains constant in memory despite the very obvious, ever-changing nature of the present.

"Dear, my beloved you. As long as you receive it, as long as you receive it. This small token of gratitude. No matter what, what I wanted to convey, what I wanted to convey. It isn't enough with just words. These thoughts I can't write about. Only faded letters would know."

These relate to the previous passages as well, with wanting forever despite the very obvious inability to have such.

What I want to relate to the last line, though, is the first three lines of the previous list of lyrics - These are particularly drawn to the past timeline itself, but more on their emotions from they were within that past timeline.

"Only faded letters would know." which is why they'd want to gather and write all the words down. Not to capture their feelings now, but the truth they once knew and felt back then.

"This letter to you becomes a bookmark. Every time I read it again, I get taken back to that day."

-> a relation to the line "Only faded letter would know" and the day when everything fell.

"Show me, beloved seven colors. These childish and naive emotions. A flowery smile in the spring and summer. The loneliness of autumn and winter. The warmth of the person who wants to be remembered."

This segment primarily the passage of time and how these "childish and naive" emotions would affect the understanding of the fleeting nature of time (as said in previous lyrics). The last line emphasizing "to be remembered" may be a tie to the line "I still remember", in Ever Red, meaning, the person who wants to be remembered would be Hallritt. But it could also be applied to Cielomort as well. By remembering him, they would no longer remember those times of horror, but the love he felt for the world of Fragaria that he was willing to sacrifice himself for everyone. Or maybe even the past knights, wanting to be remembered so the memories of the truth would be revealed.

"I hid the rainbow beyond the sky. I don't ever want anyone to find it. The rest of us hope to never cry. Overflowing with love. The rainbow that fills the dawn."

He hid the rainbow beyond the sky because he believed one should keep the things that are close, dear to them hidden. They wouldn't be found, therefore they would be safe. All for the sake of this overwhelming feeling called love.

Which is why the rest of them, the rainbow - the knights, will continue to hope and cry just so no one will ever cry. And instead, will be embraced by the symbol of tomorrow that fills the dawn.

(This took so long, I'm so sorry. I'm glad I could do some analysis with RARE and I'm Stitch Dot, and I hope the next song with lore won't take as long to make, haha.)

#fragaria memories #fragaria sanrio #fragmem #willmesh #louterstella #myunna #cielomort #merold #blue bouquet

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