#but i gotta finish this and then i can make the woven look | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sissylittlefeather · 11 months ago

Text

How the Web Was Woven: Chapter 6

A/N: I'm sorry this one took so long! I have a hard time writing sometimes, but y'all keep me inspired and I thank you for it. ICYMI, this is the time travel/soulmate AU with Elvis and a fem!reader.

Need to catch up? Here's my Masterlist.

Special thanks to @ccab for loving this series so much that I can't abandon it. This one's for you, baby.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, AND DRINKING, POSSIBLE ALCOHOLISM, and ANGSTTTTTT

Word count: ~3.5k

There's no way he's leaving you now. Not like this.

******

When your alarm goes off the next morning you roll over and groan, turning it off haphazardly. Elvis has been awake for a while, watching you sleep. He knows today might be rough for you, but he has a question that's burning in his mind and just won't go away. Seeing you last night has him worried about your wellbeing.

"You alright, honey?"

"Mmm. No." You groan and snuggle into his chest. Your hangover has your head pounding and your stomach rolling over. You want nothing more than to sleep in his arms for the next 24 hours, but he seems determined to wake you up.

"You need food. Come on." He tries to get you out of the bed, but you don't move.

"Later. I need sleep."

"Y/n, it's almost noon." You laugh.

"So much for my 10:30 class."

"Come on, honey. We gotta get up."

"Why??" You whine and snuggle under the covers again.

"Because we need to talk." This gets your attention. It doesn't sound like he has a good talk in mind. Has he had enough of you? You should've known this was coming. You've been a mess for almost two years now. It makes sense that he would notice it and want to cut ties as soon as possible. Making a portal will be difficult if he doesn't love you or even like you anymore. You sit up and grimace.

"Talk about what?"

"Let's just go get some food." Somehow, you manage to slink out of bed and get some clothes on. You know you must look terrible, but you don't care. It matches the way you feel, both physically and emotionally. He's not even gone yet and you already miss him.

About twenty minutes later, you find yourself in a booth at a local breakfast place and he waits for you to finish as many fried potatoes as you can stomach before he comes back to his question.

"Y/n, I told you we need to talk about something."

"I know. You're ready to leave and never come back, aren't you?"

"What? No. The exact opposite. I'm worried about you."

"About me? Why?"

"Are you happy?"

"Right now?" You look around the restaurant and consider your current level of happiness.

"No. When I'm not here. Are you... are you okay?" You look down at your hands. So he has picked up on the fact that you're not doing so great. You think for a long time before you answer him. Should you be honest and tell him that you've been miserable every day for almost two years? Or should you act like everything is fine, so he'll go back through the portal to his own life? You look back up into his eyes and know you can't lie.

"No. I'm not." He grabs your hand where it sits on the table and watches as your eyes fill with tears.

"That's what I was afraid of. It's my fault isn't it?" He rubs small circles on the back of your hand.

"No, Elvis it's not you. I just should never have left you alone. I know how much it hurt you. I'll regret it forever." A single tear slides down your cheek.

"Honey, no. You had to go. We didn't know any other way. I understand that. I don't blame you for anything." He stands up and scoots in next to you on your side of the booth as the tears start to stream down your face and your shoulders quake with the intensity of your sadness. You feel his arm wrap around you and he holds you as tightly as he can without hurting you. You cry and cry into his chest and it feels like all the pain from the last two years finally has some release.

He holds you and looks at the ceiling trying not to let his own tears fall. His resolve to never leave you gets stronger and stronger. How could he when he knows how badly you need him?

******

You spend the next week together and slowly you start to feel better. His presence is reassuring and almost healing. Knowing that he's forgiven you does wonders for your depression. Still, every time he ignores a portal, a small part of you worries that he might be missing his last chance. You know he has to go back. He has to become the man the world knows. And as much as you want to keep him here, you know he can't stay forever.

On Friday, one of your friends invites you to a party at his house. Elvis is nervous about you drinking again, but he agrees to come along just to be with you. Before you head over, your friends come over to pre-party like always. The shots of Fireball start to go around again and Elvis throws back two just to try to ease his nerves about how the night will go. He has a bad feeling, for some reason, but the Fireball helps.

By the time you get to the party, you're both pretty relaxed and ready to have a good time. You stay together and mingle with the other party guests. When you decide it's time for a second drink, though he tries to stop you gently.

"Y/n, are you sure? Remember how you felt on Monday?" You stop and look up at him surprised.

"I'm sorry; are you my dad now?" He rolls his eyes as you walk away to get another drink. He follows close behind you.

"No, I'm just sayin' maybe you don't really wanna do this again." He steps in between you and the bar. "You know I love you. I just want what's best for you."

"Ha. Okay. How about this: I'll listen to you when you start listening to me about leaving." The alcohol in your system makes you brazen. You can't ignore it anymore.

"That is not the same at all, honey."

"Except it is. I know what's best for you, you know what's best for me. Now, let me get a drink, please." The thought of sending him through the portal inspires you to drink even more, but you know it has to be done. Maybe if you push him away now, it'll be easier for both of you. He steps out of the way to let you walk up to the bar. To your surprise, he gets himself another two shots of Fireball. This may not end well for either of you. When you get away from the bar, he puts his arm around your waist and pulls you in close. You think back to your earlier plan to push him away. Despite the unbelievable comfort you find in his embrace, you know now is the time.

"You know, you don't always have to stay with me. You can walk around and talk to people. I'm fine." He looks down into your face, shocked.

"Doll, I'm perfectly happy to stay right here. Fore-"

"Don't say it." You interrupt him before he can. This whole situation is breaking your heart and you just need him to get it over with and go. Before either of you can say anything else though, your friend, Zach, that lives at the house calls to him.

"John! What's up, man?" He pats him on the back and shakes his hand. Elvis quickly rearranges his face to hide everything he's feeling as a result of your conversation. Sometimes you forget he's such a talented performer, but watching him change like this brings it all back to you.

They chat for a bit about music, since Zach was present for Elvis's karaoke success and he plays the guitar himself. Somehow the conversation ends with Zach fetching two guitars from his bedroom.

"Hey, yo, cut the music!" Zach hollers to no one in particular. The party music stops and the jam session begins. Luckily, Zach is an Elvis fan and there's a good number of songs they can play together. When Elvis starts to sing, you notice something you haven't before: the other girls. He certainly has their attention as they stand in various states of attraction. Some giggle, some blush, and some simply stand with their mouths slightly open. You look back at him and he's eating it up. Maybe it's the alcohol, but maybe it's just who he is. You shouldn't be surprised. You've read about him and his ways with women. It's different to see it in action when he's supposed to be with you, though. A few of them come close to him and sit down around him and he sings directly to them with a flirty smile. When he winks at your friend Stephanie, you turn away and head to the bar. There's only one guy back there, since everyone else is busy watching the music taking place in the living room.

"What're you drinkin'?"

"I don't care. Give me a shot of anything."

"A girl after my own heart." He smiles and you notice he's actually really cute with his round blue eyes and sandy brown hair fixed in a faux hawk. You take the shot that he hands you and smile in return.

"Thanks. I'm y/n." You reach out to shake his hand and he kisses yours gently.

"I'm Jeff. Pleased to make your acquaintance." He's a little dorky, but you're kind of into it.

"You're not an Elvis fan, I take it?" He asks.

"Ha, no that's not exactly... I just... it's hard to explain."

"No worries. We can talk about something else. What's the best concert you've ever been to?"

Your conversation continues while Elvis plays in the living room. He looks up from the throng of girls that has gathered around him to try to find you, but you're nowhere to be found. He turns back to Zach and hands him the guitar.

"Thanks, that was fun. I've gotta find my girl, though." The party music starts back up and the girls close in on him to try to get him to dance, or more, but he gently brushes them off. He's getting more and more nervous about your whereabouts. When he finds you, you're doing another shot with Jeff. After you finish it, you lean your head on his shoulder and laugh. You've had more than enough alcohol and you're clearly not thinking straight. Elvis stands there in shock for a good thirty seconds before he walks up to you.

"Are you having fun?"

"Oh shit, it's my boyfriend." You giggle and pop your head up.

"Something like that." He wraps his arm around you and pulls you over to him. "Come on, it's time to go."

"Maybe I don't want to leave. Maybe I want to stay here with Jeff." You gesture to the guy at the bar. Elvis's eyes burn with something you haven't seen before. It's a kind of possessive anger and jealousy and you should know not to push him. But you're drunk and sad and want to push him away, so you double down. "Maybe you should take one of your fangirls home."

"Oh shit." Jeff says and laughs out loud. Elvis turns to him and grabs the front of his shirt.

"Give me an excuse, fucker." This sobers you significantly and you step in between them facing Elvis.

"Babe, don't. Okay? I'll go with you." You almost called him Elvis in front of all these people, but you caught it at the last second. Still, the pet name seems to pull him back down to earth and soften him. He lets go of Jeff's shirt and puts his arm around your shoulders.

"Let's get the hell outta here." He guides you to the exit, forgetting that you drove and shouldn't drive home. He digs your keys out of your purse and gets you settled in the front seat. Then, he slides into your seat behind the steering wheel. He knows how to drive a car, obviously, but this is not any kind of car he's familiar with. It takes him a good ten minutes, but he eventually figures out the push-button start and how to adjust your mirrors and seat with the electric controls. While he's doing all of that, all you can do is look out the window and cry quietly. You know what needs to happen tonight. And more importantly, you know what you're sending him back to. Or rather, who you're sending him back to. He'll fall in love a few times and none of them will be with you. And then he'll get married. That won't be you either. You can't live like this anymore. You have to let him go. And the very thought of that damn near breaks you.

"Hon? What's wrong?" He's finally figured out how to drive your car and noticed that you're crying.

"You have to leave. Tonight."

"What the hell? Because of the other girls? Look, I'm sorry about that. But I don't want any of them. I don't want anyone but you." He reaches out and touches your face and it just makes you cry harder.

"No, not because of that."

"Then let's just forget about it. I'm not going anywhere." You ride the rest of the way in silence with his hand in yours, tears still sliding down your face.

Finally, you get back to your house and you've managed to stop crying. He comes around to your side to help you out of the car. You're so exhausted from the events of the evening that he half-carries you to your room.

When you make it inside, you stand in your room just looking at each other. He leans down and kisses your mouth gently. You grab the back of his neck and pull him into a deeper kiss, putting every emotion you're feeling into the movement of your tongue against his. He snakes his arms around your waist and holds you close, pushing your hips into his. You feel his erection growing and swallow the lump in your throat. He pulls back and looks into your eyes.

"You're not too drunk for this?"

"I'm really not. I promise." He sees how clear your eyes are and knows you're telling the truth, so he goes back to kissing you. You know you'll need to have sex with him to do what needs to be done. But the fact that this is probably the last time you will hits you squarely in your chest and settles there.

He pulls your shirt up and over your head and you do the same with his. He presses his chest to yours and puts his hands behind your back to undo your bra. For the first time, he manages to get it off all by himself.

"Ah ha! I got it!" He's so excited that he tosses your bra to the side and lifts you so that your legs are wrapped around his waist. You grab onto him and hold him a little too tightly. He lays you down on the bed, climbing in next to you, and puts his hand on the side of your face.

"Doll, what's wrong? Please tell me." You search for something you can tell him that won't give away your plan.

"I'm just sad again. Ignore me."

"You know I can't do that. Do you not want to do this?"

"No! I want to! I need it. Please." He remembers how you were there for him when he needed you and nods.

"Just tell me if you want me to stop." He runs his hand down your neck to your chest, massaging your breast gently. Then, he keeps going down to your hip, pulling you into him. He kisses down your neck and slides his hand under your pants and down to your center. Teasing your entrance with his finger, he gathers some of the wetness gathered there and begins to massage your clit. You moan softly and your hips buck forward into his hand.

"Does that feel good, baby?"

"God, yes."

"Good. I just wanna make you feel good tonight." You whimper as he pulls his hand out to unbutton your jeans and slide them down your legs and off. He makes his way back up to your center, pressing hot kisses to your legs along the way. When he gets back up to the place where your thighs come together, he presses a kiss to you through your panties. He pulls them off too and pushes his mouth onto you, settling his tongue on your clit. He licks up each side and then begins to move over and around it in the way that only he can.

"Yes! Elvis!" You moan loudly and run your fingers through his hair.

"That's my good girl." He says it quickly and goes back to licking you. You feel the pressure of your orgasm gathering in your center as he laps at you, moving down to slide his tongue into your slit periodically. Finally, he slips two fingers into you and pushes them in and out quickly while he tightens his tongue and drags it over your clit repeatedly.

"Oh God! I'm gonna come!" You whisper breathlessly.

"Do it, baby, come for me. I wanna feel you." Just as he ends his sentence, you feel the burst of your orgasm take off and reverberate across your body.

"Ohhhhhh, fuck, yes." You moan through gritted teeth as you pulse around his fingers. He smiles and kisses your clit one last time before taking his pants off.

The thing that's settled in your chest threatens to come screaming out of you and you feel the tears begin to gather again. As he climbs back up your body, you grab him and pull him into a kiss, hoping you can distract him from the fact that you're almost crying again. You press your forehead to his with your eyes closed and whisper.

"Make love to me, Elvis." He pulls back and looks you in the eye. Something is wrong and he knows it.

"Do you know how much I love you, y/n?"

You nod and lose control of the tears as they run down your cheeks. "You're sure this is what you want?"

"Yes, please. I need to know you love me." He lines his cock up with your entrance and pushes into you slowly. When he fills you fully, he pulls back and slides into you again.

"I love you more than I ever thought was possible." He kisses your cheek and thrusts into you again. "I love you so much that I don't even feel like I'm fully myself without you." Your voice catches in your throat.

"Please don't say that."

"Y/n, I love you with everything that I am." He continues to push into you slowly, picking up speed with each thrust. You grab him and hold him tightly while he moves against you. You wrap your legs around him and try to get as close to him as possible. If you could, you'd melt into him completely and stay with him forever. But you can't and you know that. So instead you hold him and cry silently as he drives into you as gently and lovingly as possible.

"I'm gettin' close, doll." You nod and he kisses the tears on your cheeks. He begins to pump in and out faster before he reaches his climax and moans loudly, shuddering into you. He pulls out of you and rolls over, cradling you against his chest.

When you hear the buzzing sound, you squeeze him tight and then stand up. Your hands are shaking and the tears continue to flow.

"Get up, Elvis. You have to get dressed."

"What? No. I told you-"

"Do you want to go through naked?!" You yell at him and he stands up ready to fight you on this.

"I'm not going! I'm staying here with you forever, y/n! I can't leave you. You're the love of my life."

"No. I'm not. You have to go back to her. You have to get married and be a dad. I can't take those things from you." You toss him his pants and he puts them on without thinking.

"Then I'll marry you. I'll have babies with you. That's what I want anyway!"

"You can't. Elvis, God, I'm so sorry. I'm so so so sorry. You know I will always love you, right?"

"Sorry? Sorry for what?"

"For this." You shove the rest of his uniform into his hands and push on his chest with both hands as hard as you can. You manage to catch him off guard just enough and he stumbles backwards, falling through the portal.

"Nooo!!" You hear him yell as he disappears.

The portal closes with a pop.

You fall to the floor and sob openly.

******

Back in 1960, Elvis falls backwards onto the floor of the train station and scrambles into the bathroom. He manages to get his uniform back on and then slides down the wall, tears streaming down his face.

What will happen to you without him?

Will he ever see you again?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Will there be a next chapter?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @ashtag6887 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @that-hotdog @eddiesgirlforever @helen06dreamer @returntopresley

#elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley #elvis fanfic #elvis smut #elvis presley fic #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis presley x y/n #elvis fic #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley x you #elvis presley fanfic #elvis x you #elvis x y/n #how the web was woven

131 notes · View notes

eywa-eveng · 2 years ago

Text

ɪɪ. sᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ɴᴏɴᴇ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ – ᴊᴀᴋᴇ sᴜʟʟʏ, sᴜʟʟʏ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ X ᶠᴱᴹ ᴹᴱᵀᴷᴬᵞᴵᴺᴬ ᴿᴱᴬᴰᴱᴿ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ – 12.3k

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ – angst, fluff

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs – widower!Jake, slight injury

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪ – ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪɪɪ – ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪᴠ

ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪsᴛ – @eywas-heir @fanboyluvr @amiets2 @neteyamforlife @itscheybaby @sunrays404 @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @eternallyvenus @bobojojoba69 @behindthearcane @elegantkidfansoul @goldenmoonbeam @ladylovegood-69 @myheartfollower @pinkiemme @arminsgfloll @wtf-why-do-i-gotta-do-this @onlyreadz

A storm rolled in with the darkness of eclipse, shutting the bright eye of the sky as swollen clouds blotted out the pale light of Naranawm and the stars. Wind howled through the night like screaming banshees, and waves hissed as they crashed to shore. Even now the water is still dark and turbulent, choked with seafoam as the waves rise as high as leaping nalutsa past the safety of the seawall. The small outcroppings of sand and stone are drowned in the rising tide as the storm rages on. Now, it is close to midday but the only light bleeding through the thick covering of clouds comes in bright flashes of lightning that rend the sky in splinters of gleaming white. It is as dazzling as it is dangerous.

The waves have grown high enough to splash over the hanging paths that flow like woven rivers throughout the village, wetting your feet as you return from your sister’s marui. Rain means the day is spent inside, away from the fitful waters that could easily trap even the strongest swimmer of the clan. It is a time for menial tasks, weaving, crafting, and mending. Ronal had traded your finished baskets for another filled with freshly dyed sea fronds and shells she had collected, dismissing you for the day. You sift through the materials on your way home, nearly tripping over Tuk as she sits outside your marui.

Her legs hang dangerously over the edge of the path, the strength of the tide pushing and pulling her skinny limbs as it so pleases. Another wave could sweep her away from your marui and you’re quick to pull her away, tutting over her lack of sense until you remember this is the first storm that’s passed over Awa’atlu since her arrival. Storms do not shake the forest as they do the sea. Your arm catches her waist, lifting her to your hip to carry her inside. She is already chattering about how dull the day has been having been confined to her family’s marui all morning.

“It is only rain.” She says as you set her down inside. She stays at your side, pacing in your shadow as you relight the torches that substitute the sun’s light. Soft shadows shiver and jump in the warm glow of the flickering firelight, tracing dark shapes across the woven walls as Tuk explores your home. It is her first time here and you don’t mind her curiosity as she leafs through your belongings. There is nothing secret to be found in the things that fill the space of your home. She stops before your weapons, yellow eyes drawing over the sea crystal blade of your largest spear. It is a weapon meant for battle and hunting. Every member of the clan has one, but you are not a hunter nor a warrior. It is something you’ve seldom touched since its construction following the completion of your rites as one of the People. Instead you keep to smaller spears and arrows when weapons are needed.

“Rain makes the ocean hostile. Even the strongest swimmers can be trapped under a tall wave. It is best to stay out of the water until the storm has passed.”

“But it’s so boring!” She grouses, coming up beside you with your box of beads and combs in hand. “Sa’nok, can I play with your hair?” You nod, having settled yourself to begin making something of the supplies your sister had given you. There are glimmering shells and beautifully made beads, enough to keep your hands busy for hours to come. By the time someone else comes rushing into your marui you’re nearly done knotting together the intricate pattern of a new top. Neteyam looks frantic as he ducks inside the closed flap, wiping rain from his brow.

“Sa’nok, have you seen–Tuk!” He calms as soon as he sees his sister seated happily at your side, fingers still playing in the long waves of your hair. Her braids are thick and clumsy as she threads shells and beads into each loop but she seems content with the work she’s done. She’s gentle in her work, never pulling or tangling as she goes.

“I have been looking for you. Do not go off without saying where you are going. You know Sempul doesn’t like that.” In the corner of your eye you see Tuk’s ears droop and she moves in closer to you, hands holding your arm for comfort as she hides her face in your hair. Neteyam’s expression softens at the sight. His voice may be lighter with youth but when he speaks it carries the weight of Jake’s words. He is the eldest son, a heavy burden to bear. It is expected that he will look after his siblings as well as his father does and the stress of it must prick at his heart the same as it does any parent’s. More so considering the blame that is laid at his feet when he fails to meet his father’s expectations. You’ve seen it when Lo’ak got himself into trouble, the great disappointment shining in Jake’s eyes as he blamed one son for the actions of another. If there are cords twining the Sully family together it pains you to imagine how frayed each of them might be. Neteyam to Lo’ak, Jake to his sons. It makes your heart heavy to think of the pain each of them bears trying to keep each other safe and happy, but it is the nature of a family. Just as the thread between you and Ronal had grown thin upon the Sullys’ arrival these things can be mended with time. It is the way of the All Mother’s great balance. In life there is both darkness and light and both must be felt equally despite the pain of it.

“I’m not mad, Tuk,” Neteyam says finally, kneeling beside you and his sister. “I was worried.” She nods and moves from her place hidden in the thick tresses of your hair. The two of them remain by your side, talking between themselves as you continue your crafting.

The storm wanes as the day comes to a close, thick clouds parting enough that the tied flap of the marui can be raised once more. Neteyam does it for you, eager to help when you mention the quieting winds. What had been incessant howling earlier has soothed to a soft whisper that has warmed in the soft, misting rain. The tide is still high but the water isn’t so choppy without great gusts of wind stirring the water. Tuk is quick to abandon her braiding to bask in the revealed light of eclipse. For a few minutes there’s nothing but brilliant yellow light cast over the island before it winks out like a torch being snuffed. Light is quick to return as the stars begin to shine and the darkened ocean finally finds its light as the stilled waters give way to the faint glow of syuratan hidden beneath the wavering surface. Tuk hangs over the edge, little legs kicking in the air as she sticks her head into the calmed waters. She rises with a giggling splash accompanied by the clicking of an ilu as the larger animals finally emerge from their shelter beneath the floating village.

The rest of Awa’atlu resurfaces as well, breathing a great sigh of relief as if rising after a long dive. Children just as restless as Tuk rush to the water’s edge and she goes to play with them a small ways down the path. Her voice is still clear as you begin to prepare for dinner, lighting a cookfire and gathering ingredients. Usually the meals you prepare at home are for yourself only so it is a welcomed change to have more mouths to feed. Happiness swells like cresting waves in your chest as you watch the two of them eat, enjoying the food you’ve made for them. It is another moment of stolen motherhood. They are not your children but you feel responsible for them. For their health, for their happiness.

It is not only because you were tsakarem. There will always be a piece of you that wants to look after the members of your clan but these children–Jakesully’s children–feel different when you think of them. It makes your heart break and mend all at once as Tuk makes herself comfortable in the cradle of your folded legs when she’s done eating, content to fall asleep against your chest as you talk with Neteyam. Your conversation is aimless as you speak over the dying cookfire, torches slowly dwindling their light until there’s only the blue glow of Pandora around you. He tells you of his exploration around the island and his training with Ao’nung and the others.

“They laugh at me because I cannot throw a spear. I was taught to use a bow. Throwing arrows without it seems strange.” His complaint holds no malice. There is a smile playing on his lips. No longer are the arguments between the children rife with malice. Now there are only well humored jokes between friends, like teasing siblings.

“You will learn,” you hum. “It is hard to master a spear. I could not throw in a straight line for many months when I was first learning. Ao’nung was the same. Watch when you’re training. Sometimes he will still throw a bit to the left. Learning when to release takes patience.”

It’s in the pale light that Neteyam’s face seems to change, drawing into a severe expression as his eyes empty of mirth despite your light tone. When he looks up at you again there’s something heavy and longing in his eyes.

“I don’t know if ma sempul has said it, but thank you. For everything. I know that we are outsiders and that tsahìk Ronal did not want us here to start. But you have made this place feel like home for us. For me.” Your lips part to say something but all that forms on your tongue is his name, filled with a heavy maternal anguish. Here is this child taken from his home and all that he’s known because there are demons looking for his blood. He is fighting. Everyday he has to fight to find happiness here under such dire circumstances. There are times when you see them forget, when Awa’atlu truly seems like home but the soul doesn’t forget where it’s been.

“Oh, Neteyam,” you say again, trying to reach for him. He lets you comfort him for only a moment before standing.

“It is late. My father will be wondering where we are.” And like that the illusion shatters. You are not his mother. It is not your place to soothe and placate. It’s a small miracle that he does not take Tuk from your arms, that he lets you walk beside him back to his marui. Jake is still awake though Kiri and Lo’ak have gone to sleep for the night. He takes Tuk from you to lay her down in her usual place and you take a steadying breath before placing a hesitant hand on Neteyam’s head. His shoulders raise for a moment, tail stiffening behind him before he slowly relaxes and leans into your touch.

He wants to be comforted, you realize, but it seems that he’s gone without for so long that he’s forgotten how to accept it. Not for the first time your thoughts stray to his mother. She’s little more than a wisp of a thought in your mind, vague and undefined. It’s the one thing you can’t bring yourself to ask them about despite the itching in the back of your head to know even as little as her name. But the thought of her must be like a healing wound to the family she’s left behind and you won’t be the one to tear at their scars until they’re bleeding anew.

Neteyam leans against your side, not hugging but allowing you to smooth over his braids for a moment longer until he squares his shoulders and steps away. His eyes are towards his feet, avoiding your knowing gaze as he bids you goodnight. There’s a hesitance in his steps as if he is forcing himself towards his own bedroll in the marui. Whatever comfort he has taken in your gentle touch has soothed and disturbed his soul in equal parts. There’s conflict in his eyes when you finally see them flashing in the darkness of their home. He wants to accept your affection but something is holding him back. Before you can ask Jake takes his son’s place beside you, pulling you away from the sleeping children towards the beach. The water is colder than usual and nearly to your knees as the shore is buried beneath the heightened tide.

“I missed you today.” He says as he pulls you further into the water. There are others around, already enjoying the ocean’s embrace after going a day without it. The air is filled with the hushed sounds of laughter and lapping water.

“I heard you were out hunting.” Ronal had given you simple chores today but Tonowari was nowhere to be seen each time you went to deliver your mending and weaving to your sister. You assumed he’d taken a small party inland to hunt in the flooded rivers as they usually do when the ocean becomes inhospitable. Jake has proved to be a skilled hunter in the time since he’s arrived at Awa’atlu and it’s curried him favor with the olo'eyktan.

“Yeah,” he groans, rolling his shoulders back.

“Are you tired? You should rest.” Your ears perk up in concern.

“Nah, I’d rather spend time with you.” It makes your heart flutter in your chest but the happiness is dampened by the feeling of selfishness. This man is not yours and yet he makes your heart soar with only a few words. It isn’t fair to him or yourself to be so fixated on the feeling but you can hardly help the way you feel. If it were possible to tear the roots of affection from your chest and leave only thoughts of a newly kindled friendship, you would do it without hesitation. But Eywa was seen fit to fill your vitra with dangerous desire. You want to ask the Great Mother what she wants with you, why she’s chosen to test you in this way, but it will do no good. The seed has been planted and you must helplessly watch it blossom despite the inevitability of your feelings wilting in the face of rejection.

In the pale blue light of the watchful eye above, you decide to toss those thoughts to the wind. Jake is smiling at you like he’s never seen anything lovelier than your face in the starlight and it makes you want to be reckless with your heart if only for one night. Before eclipse breaks and the sun returns you’ll pretend that this man is yours no matter the pain that will come later.

“Come. I will race you to the seawall.” It is a game played between more novice swimmers, children trying to prove their prowess amongst their friends but Jake smiles anyway. Nì’eveng you’ve taken to calling him. Childish. The look on his face is nothing but playful as you both dive into the open water. There is no doubt that you’ll beat him. Even as he’s steadily improved in the water he still isn’t built for the ocean the same as you. Your body is strong from your arms to your tail and Jake is woefully behind by the time you climb onto the lowest levels of the terraces. They’re alight with shades of green, blue, and purple that shine brighter with each step you take towards the top. But Jake is faster on land, longer legs easily bounding up the terraces until he catches you by the waist just before you reach the top. It’s the closest the two of you have ever been as he swings you in a circle until your laughter echoes across the darkened sky. His arms don’t move when he sets you down. Instead his face finds the column of your neck, purrs sounding in your ears as his nose traces over the rippling stripes of your skin.

“Got you.” His voice is an entrancing drawl that sends a shiver down your spine. It feels as if the world has tilted and only you feel the shift as Jake’s hands soothe over your waist, keeping you close to his chest as he noses behind your ear. It’s intimate in a way you’ve never experienced. There has never been anyone to court you, to treat you with such affection. No man of the Metkayina would dare even after Tonowari passed over you in favor of your sister. Yet here is this man from a place you’ve never seen, giving you everything that you’ve ever wanted.

“You caught me.” You agree and Jake laughs against the shell of your ear. He mumbles something as he squeezes you closer. You turn in his arms, face drawn in confusion.

“Always,” he says again. “I’ll always catch you.” His forehead presses to yours bright eyes clouding your vision of anything other than him.

“I’m not running.” It’s a lie but you say it to preserve the fantasy. Just for this night you want to pretend that you belong to him in truth.

“You are.” He says and the illusion is shattered. His arms around you begin to feel too tight and his breath too close as it washes over your parted lips. This isn’t how you should be acting with a mated man no matter how you feel towards him. But when you try to pull away his arms tighten.

“There you go again. What are you running from, girl?” You shake your head, voice lost somewhere in your throat as you try to do exactly what you’ve said you aren’t. You want to run away but your heart will stay with you. These feelings of yours won’t be easily abandoned as they beat in your chest like a drum. They will follow you no matter how far you go. You don’t get farther than turning away from him before he has you in his arms again. His hand settles over your thumping heart, fingertips tracing over the shape of your tattoo.

“I feel you,” he says, hand moving from your fluttering heart to your throat, “I hear you.” Your breathing comes in stuttered draws, lungs suddenly constricted with the wave of emotions crashing inside you. “I See you.” He says finally, lips caressing your ear. When your shuddering breaths calm he turns you to face him again. All that beams in his eyes is sincerity. Yearning and something close to desperation. He wants you to accept him.

“You’re not mine.” It’s a warbled cry as tears swell in your eyes.

“I’m yours. I’m all yours, yawne.” It makes your knees go weak and you fall from his arms, landing gracelessly in the water at your feet.

“I can’t do this.” Jake flinches back, his hands falling from where they’d been reaching out to you. “You’ve mated with another. I can’t have you.”

Never have you heard of a mated pair in which one of them had been mated before. When a mate dies, that does not make room for another. Tsaheylu is sacred, shared only between two lovers. What Jake is asking is something your heart cannot understand. The thoughts of the woman you’ve never met, the woman that came before you, keeps you from letting yourself love him fully. He is hers. Whatever part of him wants you now, it is not the whole of him. It is inevitable that when mates are separated by death, a part of the living dies with the one that went to Eywa. He will always be hers before he is yours. Or perhaps Jakesully will be different as he is in all things.

He is Na’vi but he was also tawtute. It was Eywa that decided his fate as Toruk Makto, that allowed him to have the body that he does today. Perhaps you are simply another part of his fate. Another bead in his songcord. Each thought swims through your head quicker than the last, growing more absurd with each passing moment. It would be so easy to ignore it, to reach out and be with Jake in the way that he’s asking you to. But your heart is delicate, your soul conflicted. He isn’t yours. And yet he is. His heart is in his hands as he stares at you, wiping the tears from your eyes.

“Don’t cry, pretty girl. You’ve got me. I’m here. Whenever you want me, I’m here. I promise.” He carries you home once you’ve cried yourself dry, laying you down and pressing a kiss to your forehead before going to join his children. It breaks your heart to watch him leave but it is where he belongs. His children will always need him more than you. A lonely tsakarem will always pale in comparison to the remnants of the life he led before you met. His mate, their children. If you accept him it will be as if you are a mismatched bead looped at the end of a bracelet. Dull and out of place.

For once you do not rise with the sun as it breaks from behind Naranawm’s shadow. There’s a soreness in your eyes as you try to shield them from the burning white light of the morning sun as it burns unfettered after spending a day under heavy clouds. Tears have dried on your cheeks and Tuk’s braids have become tangled and undone after what was surely a fitful sleep. You remove them slowly, collecting all the ornaments she added as they fall into your lap. There are things that need to be done, tasks that need completing, but you ignore those responsibilities to hide your face in the forest. You take your time in bathing and cleaning your hair, spending too long in the memories of the hands that touched you last night. It’s as if he’s still with you. So gentle and earnest as he caressed your skin.

The memories linger like a bruise when you finally drag yourself from the bathing pool, sore and shameful. Once you’ve dressed you abandon the village to visit the one place you’ve been avoiding since the moment you met Jakesully. There was fear in your heart at the thought of bonding with the Ranteng Utralti. Fear of what the Great Mother might show you, what your ancestors might tell you. It still lingers even as you leave your ilu to bask in the pale purple light of the glowing fronds of the spirit tree. Tree spirits swim around you, yellow fish shining bright as stars. The waters around the tree are deserted aside from the animals. No one to judge your hesitancy to commune with Eywa after so long. The fronds of the tree sway in the gentle current, waiting patiently for you to gather the courage to make tsaheylu. It nearly knocks the breath from your lungs when you finally join your tswin to the tree.

There are no thoughts in your mind as you join Eywa. There is no one that you want to see, no ancestor you wish to visit, but the Great Mother embraces you still. It feels like the gentlest hug as the colors flashing behind your eyes fades to something tangible yet distant all the same.

Eywa has brought you to a place you do not know. It is like the deep forest of Awa’atlu yet different. The air doesn’t carry the scent of the sea. It smells rich and loamy as thick grass cushions each of your curious steps. Trees that seem to touch the sky grow around you and sunlight peaks through the leaves in dappled beams, warming your skin for only a moment before you pass beneath another shadow. In the richly colored forest you look out of place. Skin bright as polished river stone, beaming through the deep greens of the foliage. You walk until you see something of interest. The trees thin to a small clearing and you stop in your tracks. The vision wavers as you fight against what the Great Mother has to show you, shimmering like heat rising off sand before solidifying as you force your heartbeat to calm.

A long structure sits before you. Grayish black the same as the buzzing ikran that had carried Norm and Max across the ocean. Metal, Jake had called it. You’ve only ever heard the word. It is part of the Na’vi Way set by the Three Laws of Eywa. Never use metals from the ground. It is something made from digging and stripping the earth. Harmful. It tosses off beams of light as you slink closer, staying close to the ground despite the lack of danger. There’s another metal beast in the clearing. Seemingly broken and covered in moss and vines. Inside is a small headless skeleton with two arrows through its ribs. Tawtute. They have been dead for long enough to turn to bone and yet their strange metal body has not returned to the earth it was stripped from. Even the well-made arrows have gathered rot where Eywa has begun to reclaim them.

It seems so unnatural for the metal to be so unflinching and yet you can’t temper your curiosity. You lean closer only to burn your hands on the shiny beast as if you’ve touched an open flame. Whatever this metal material is, it collects heat like a black stone left in the sun. The tawtute structure is just as smoldering beneath your skin as you vault inside. The floor makes a sound like shifting seashells as you land, a strange material like shards of crystal tinkling underfoot as you slink through the small space, crouching in the unaccommodating space. It feels odd to find yourself in a place like this and yet this is where Eywa wants you to be.

There is a Law against things like this. Laying brick, building that which cannot be renewed or replenished. Metal remains. It is cold inside despite the sun shining just beyond the opening in the wall, and very little of Pandora has dared to reach inside. This is a place of sawtute and the forest recognizes that. Nothing other than pollen and lichen has found its way inside. There is something here for you. Something Eywa needs you to see among the ruins of the sawtute. There’s a childlike curiosity to your exploration as you pick through the remains of the banished demons.

There are strange pieces of color, thin as leaves cut into neat shapes. They’re untouched by rot yet the colors seem wrong, slightly faded like an old mat left in the sun. There are people captured in the strange, dull threads of color. Two of them look familiar in a distant way, like you’d seen them from afar but only once. It isn’t until you bring the tiny thing close to your face that you realize you’ve seen pieces of these women in other people. Their eyes, their noses. Small details that you’ve noticed in others. The uniltìrantokx is even wearing a necklace you’ve seen before though it takes you a beat to place who’d worn it.

“Kiri?” The frozen memory jumps from your fingers like you’ve been struck and crystal shards dig into your knees as you stumble to the ground. The sharp pain rushes through you with startling vividness. Never have you been harmed while cradled in the Great Mother’s arms and the pain disrupts the vision, twisting and changing it as you try to stand. Light contorts and a sharp pain splits through your head, thrusting you back into your body with an aborted gasp.

Bubbles cloud your vision as you try to calm your racing mind. Who were those women with faces so familiar they seemed nearly tangible. Your mind races as your lungs pinch with exertion after all your air left in a warbled cry. Air seems far out of reach as you swim towards the light of the sun kissing the gentle waves. You surface with a strangled shout that echoes across the floating islands of the Cove, only treading water long enough to catch your breath. Your heart thunders in your chest as your ears cloud with the sound of your rushing blood. It takes all your focus to force your body to silence, to calm. Absently, you check your knees for blood, half expecting to find shards still embedded in your skin. When you find nothing other than the pattern of your skin your heart steadies enough for you to dive again. This time there is no hesitation as you connect to the Ranteng Utralti. There is a place for you in what Eywa has shown you. Everyone lives within the Great Mother. She remembers. Someone had been there before you. Someone precious to you. The Great Mother knows your heart, knows what it is you seek. A purpose. An answer.

Show me, you whisper in your mind. Tell me.

The vision is different as the flashing colors fade to night, the seldom patches of sky alight with stars and a gentle breeze lifting the curls of your hair as you stand at the precipice of a spiraling tree root. The sounds floating through the darkness are so different from the steady lapping of water. There is life all around you, just beyond sight as your footsteps stir up bursts of green syuratan. Everything feels new, like you’re a child again as you walk along the path the Great Mother has set you on. Specks of white like tanhì glow through the soft light of blue and purple leaves overhead, drifting on the faint breeze. They descend like a gentle rain and feel just as faint as one lands in your outstretched hand. More follow, tickling across your skin as they turn your body a pure shade of white. Eywa’s presence strengthens with each one that brushes against you and you realize they must be atokirina’. So different from the radiant seeds of your own spirit tree and yet the feeling is the same.

They dance over your body like lapping waves before departing in a glimmering cloud. It would be lovely to watch them float away if an echoing screech didn’t follow their departure. You don’t dare to turn and face what made such a deafening noise. Instead you clumsily sprint towards cover, wide tail doing little to balance your strides as you find an alcove in a tree to hide yourself. The bark is rough against your skin after being so gently touched by the hands of the Great Mother and your vision wavers once more as fear punches through your chest in an acidic burst. Never have you encountered danger when connected to the Ranteng Utralti. Never have you known Eywa to lead those seeking guidance into peril. But you’ve been hurt, you’ve bled. And now another shriek crashes through the quiet of the forest, echoing eerily through the treetops. The distant branches seem to shudder, shedding leaves as something crashes through the foliage. Is this the result of your covetous heart? The Great Mother turning her back on you?

A scream rips from your throat, nearly burning with its intensity as a giant ikran descends through the hole it’s torn through the canopy. The roots shudder beneath its mighty weight as it lands where you’d been standing and your thick limbs tremble clumsily, hands tucking into the groves of the tree bark to keep yourself upright and hidden. This beast is like no ikran you’ve ever seen though you’ve seen so few in the distant atolls of the Metkayina. Yet this one seems intrinsically different. Large and bright in the night as it spreads its fearsome wings, fanged jaw opening to let out another bellow that has your ears folding tight against your head. A pained noise slips from your lips as its voice splits through your head and it’s enough to draw the creature’s attention to you. Its eyes seem to find you even in the shadows and you’re reminded that the two of you are bright beings in a darkened forest. For a moment your heart stops and yet the beast doesn’t charge, doesn’t let out another terrifying scream. Instead it sits as if waiting for you to show yourself.

Every instinct carved into you since birth begs you to stay hidden and yet, with hesitant steps, you emerge from your hiding place. If this is your punishment for daring to think a man like Jake could ever be yours then you’ll have to face it.

The ikran fixes its four eyes on you, wings spreading to block anything but the warm shades of its striped skin. It is the color of the sun in a sea of shades of green and blue, a torch over the ocean. A fire, your mind sings. Wings like flames. The song of Toruk Makto. It is one you remember well, sung more often in the years after the sawtute were banished from Pandora. The ikran before you is no ikran. It is toruk. Last Shadow. A breath leaves you in an awed rush as tears begin to burn in your eyes. Toruk stays as still as an animal can be as you approach him. There is still fear in your heart, something instinctual that is sewn into the very fabric of your soul. And yet it bleeds away as you reach to touch him. Part of you still expects a quick reproach, a snap of his mighty jaw to remove your hand. But he only shifts his weight and watches as you touch the blue crests of his head. Any fear still lingering in your chest dissipates at the feeling of his head in the palm of your small hand.

You came to the Great Mother with a storm wailing inside you, burying you beneath the dark waters of uncertainty, and she has eased it. All at once the dark clouds of your conflicted spirit seem to part and warmth blooms in its place. Toruk shuts his eyes and leans further into your hand as if he too can feel the stillness finally easing inside you.

He is your answer. Eywa has heard you.

The days that follow pass in a haze. Even as your heart has been soothed your mind is still racing. It’s all you can do to pick up with your daily tasks, to pretend the Great Mother hasn’t just laid a magnificent blessing into your hands.

“Sa’nok, watch me!” Naleyä squeals before gulping in a deep breath and diving to the bottom of the pool, drawing you out of your own head. The tide pools are still overflowing after the storm and it’s made the children more confident now that the water has grown a bit deeper. They’re light as seabirds floating on their round tummies as they paddle in circles around you, daring to dive for a few moments before resurfacing with little gasps and eager smiles. It’s still shallow enough that you could reach Naleyä just by bending down but she seems determined to prove how well she’s learned as she picks up a shell resting at the bottom to bring you when she resurfaces. Mu’rak intercepts the gift, curious fingers taking the shell before he passes it to you for approval. It’s a simple shell. Flat and ridged, the color of a pinkish sunrise. You’ve collected many of them in your life but each is just as precious as the last. More so when gifted by one of your students. You press the shell to your lips before tucking it away in your medicine pouch.

“Me!” Peylil says, already filling his lungs with a big gust of air but you deflate him with a pinch of your fingers on his puffed cheeks. He’s young, too young to have even fully grown his tswin braid. He’s eager to follow but he’s only just learned to swim, hands still gripping cautiously at your loincloth to keep from floating too far in the pool. It will take some time before he is ready to dive, even in the shallowest of waters. He pouts up at you and for a moment he almost reminds you of Tuk. The thought is easily plucked away by the sound of a horn. It isn’t the same sound that had announced the arrival of the Sullys and there are no swooping silhouettes emerging from the haze of sunlight. Instead your eyes find the break in the sprawling seawall that lines the horizon. A rush of water rises like a cloud and through the mist comes the familiar crest of a tulkun. In an instant the feelings sitting like stones in your chest turn to dust and fall away. The tulkun have returned.

Once more Awa’atlu stops but there isn’t a storm to dampen this day. Everything has been abandoned to welcome the tulkun home. It is a time for reunions. For stories of what has come to pass since the tulkun last graced the waters of Awa’atlu. Whatever thoughts still lingers in your head are lost in the face of sharing this moment with those you hold dearest. The children are gathered quickly by their parents eager to introduce the younglings to their spirit family. You set off to find the children that have claimed your heart, but Kiri is the only one left inside when you reach the Sully marui looking as downtrodden as she’s been in the weeks since her seizure. It makes you wonder what the Great Mother might have shown her on that day. You’ve yet to mention what you’d seen of her mother, but if Eywa blessed with a meeting with toruk, then Kiri could’ve seen something truly amazing. And yet she hasn’t spoken of what she saw or who she spoke to. It isn’t your place to ask. Connection to the spirit tree is a private commune with the Great Mother and you won’t begrudge her that.

This will not erase her pain but it is your hope that it will ease her spirit even for a moment. Kiri shines so brightly with the light of Eywa and she will surely bloom in the majesty of the tulkun. She barely looks up when you enter the marui, ears lifting only slightly to acknowledge you despite the smile you feel overtaking your face.

“Kiri, come!” When she doesn’t move you guide her to her feet with gentle hands. She returns the soft touch though she is hesitant to heed your urging towards the water.

“What?” She groans but her attitude does little to deter you. She is still young, still hurting. Her words are only as harsh as whatever she is feeling and you’re eager to soothe her pains.

“What is it?” Her voice stops short as you finally guide her outside. She squints in the sun and you wonder when she last left home. For a moment your smile falls and you turn to look at her fully, holding her hands in yours as you look her over with the sharp eyes of a tsakarem. She is the same as you last saw her. Still dulled. Her light has dimmed and it aches your heart to see her faith slip. Eywa has not turned her back on Kiri. It’s clear to see in the way the fish seem to gravitate towards her as you lead her into the water. They mingle around her ankles like they’re caught in a whirling tide but she hardly notices as her eyes take in the spectacle playing out over the horizon. Yellow eyes widen in awe as the two of you watch the village become whole once more. Her hand tightens in yours as she looks to you with the first sparks of excitement shining in her eyes. Suddenly she’s pulling you along, eagerly dragging you along with her.

“Sa’nok!” Tuk shouts gleefully, already bouncing with excitement. She stands behind Kiri on her ilu, hands on her sister’s shoulders as they follow you into the flood of Na’vi and tulkun, tsurak and ilu. The whole of Awa’atlu has poured into the sea and voices rise joyously over the blue waters. It is the blissful sound of the People and tulkun as siblings are reunited after the season apart.

“There! Do you see her? That is my spirit sister.” Your voice is pitched with excitement as Kiri and Tuk ride beside you. The water is warm as you urge your ilu to dive. She chitters happily, feeling the elation coursing through you through tsaheylu. Veyan hums eagerly when her eyes finally see you riding towards her, dismounting as you swim in close. Her voice is a warm timber that sings through the water as you greet her.

«Veyan! Oel ngati kameie.»

«Oel ngati kameie, tsmuke. I am happy to see you.» Her skin feels welcoming beneath your hands as you press your forehead just above her eyes in a gentle embrace. «Who have you brought with you?» She asks when you part. Kiri and Tuk have kept close to you, signing a respectful greeting when Veyan’s eyes land on them. Kiri hugs close to her ilu as Tuk clings to your back, both bashful in the face of your spirit sister. Veyan is a lovely being known for her beautiful voice and playful disposition. She is as curious as they are upon first meeting.

«This is Kiri and this is Tuk.» You gesture to each of them in turn. Names are harder to convey without a voice and you name each with words that are easily signed. Kiri you call txanatan for how brightly she reflects Eywa’s light, and Tuk is weopxtsyìp; little wave. It is a common name tulkun say before a child is properly introduced.

«It seems now is a time for children.» Veyan laughs, pointing her snout across the water. Many Na’vi and tulkun dance in the blue waters but you recognize who she has gestured to.

Ronal is a short distance away and just as you always are you’re struck by your sister’s smile. It’s a rare sight to see the stoic tsahìk so open and unburdened as she speaks with her spirit sister. Roa looks radiant as she cradles a calf beneath her fin. A gorgeous son. You taste the sea on your tongue as a smile breaks across your face. After so long Roa has finally had her child. He looks precious swimming next to his mother, curious eyes taking in the world around him. Just as you’re about to suggest the girls introduce themselves to the young calf they sign that they need air, swimming to the surface.

«They must be a long way from home.» Veyan notes, keen eyes watching their shadows as they float overhead. It is easy to tell their differences. Their eyes, their tails. It’s made clearer as Rotxo finds them, wide limbs clashing with their willowy frames as he gestures for them to follow him. Both you and Veyan surface for a breath as you watch them all swim away. Neteyam is nearby as well, smiling wide as he watches the tulkun breach and twirl, playfully flapping their fins as skimwings fly overhead.

«Is he one of yours too?» Veyan asks when you name each of them properly.

«None of them are mine.» Your tone is dejected as you say the words as you sign. Veyan’s orange eyes roll at your denial.

«I can see it as plainly as the sky, tsmuke. They are your children.» The sound of Roa’s voice raises from beneath you as Ronal and her spirit sister come to join you and yours.

«Children?» The older tulkun asks curiously. She has known you since you were young, seen you through many seasons of your life. Roa is just as much your sister as she is Ronal’s even if the two of you do not share the bond of tsaheylu. You greet her happily, giving her well wishes on the birth of her son. She thanks you with a happy trill, nudging him forward for a shy greeting.

«Three of them.» Veyan says happily, fins fluttering in excitement and nearly shaking you back into the water.

«Four.» Ronal corrects her. «Two sons and two daughters.»

«When did this happen?» Roa asks. You lay back on Veyan’s fin, watching the sky as you try to gather the courage to speak your feelings into the air. You’ve spent months keeping them tucked close to your chest. It is plain to see how deeply you feel for Jake and yet you’ve refused to admit it, like he will disappear if you so much as whisper your affections to anyone. At first it felt wrong to so shamelessly pine for a man that was already spoken for but Eywa has proven you wrong. Now you are unlearning such ideas but it is slow going like pulling the stray threads of a knot. It has taken so much patience and trust in the Great Mother to loosen your grip on the thoughts of desiring a man like Jake being treacherous and wrong. In death, tsaheylu is broken. An ikran may only ride with one hunter in their whole life, but when a spirit sibling is lost another may rise to take their place if a Na’vi so chooses to accept. It is not betrayal, it is balance. As Eywa intends all things to be.

Yet there is still hesitancy in your words as you tell your sisters about Jake. How he came to Awa’atlu seeking uturu, how you challenged Ronal before the clan to allow him and his family to stay, the way your heart has been so easily taken by the Sullys.

«She is in love.» Ronal says, sour attitude clear even as her fingers shape the words. «But stubborn like a child.» Her voice is rife with disappointment. Not at your desire, but your unwillingness to act upon it.

She still taunts you. Making jabs about your empty home knowing that you could so easily join the Sully family if only you let yourself. Ronal may be your elder sister but she is also tsahìk. The will of Eywa is hers to interpret and the Great Mother has made her intentions clear. Yet the longer you go without acknowledging the truth of what you both know the more abrasive she becomes at the mention of it. Now she has grown far past pointed remarks. It has become an argument at even a passing mention. If either tulkun hears the frustration in Ronal’s tone they choose to ignore it. Though even her body has gone tense with dissatisfaction as she floats beside Roa.

«At last?» Veyan rolls over, clearly elated at the news. It knocks you back into the water with her. You take in the shapes of her tattoos on her belly as she spins. The same ones you’ve traced countless times in the years since you’ve bonded. This is news that she has been waiting for since the two of you passed your rites together. Finally you have found a mate. And yet your heart can’t let it be so simple even when what you want is so close at hand.

Jake has kept to the fringes of your life since the night on the terraces. He lingers, just out of reach. Whenever you want me, he said. His heart won’t stray from those words, from you. Even as you pass him in the village he doesn’t dare to speak or touch yet his eyes follow you, gaze wistful as he watches in silence.

«But he is already mated.» You tell them. Ronal narrows her eyes.

«His mate has returned to Eywa.» She quickly corrects you.

«Tsmuke, Eywa sends blessings for a reason. The Great Mother would not give you such a gift if you were not meant to accept it. He has chosen you. All you must do now is choose him.» Roa advises.

«There will be a celebration tonight.» Veyan chimes happily. «You must dress beautifully and go to him. I ask Eywa to bless this union.» Roa seconds her enthusiasm but Ronal keeps any kind words to herself until the two of you have surfaced once more to prepare for the evening. It is nearing eclipse, the sky faded to shades of pink and purple as night closes in. Ronal will have many things to do before the last sparks of sunlight fade from the sky. It is the duty of tsahìk to lead ceremonies and tonight marks one of the clan’s most sacred celebrations.

“Tsmuke,” Ronal says finally, joining you in your marui. Her tone is strong, sharp as a blade. She’s yet to speak and already you know her words will be unsympathetic. Ronal is past sparing you for the sake of sibling harmony. It’s clear in her green eyes that she feels nothing but irritation with you at this moment. It feels much the same as when you were children being scolded for going against her words despite her being the elder. Now she is tsahìk, the leader of your clan, and you must bow to her council no matter your relation.

“I have waited many years for you to choose someone. I do not want to hear any more of this stubbornness. It is done. This man has chosen you and you have chosen him. Not with your words, but with your actions. I see how Jakesully looks at you. I see how his children cling to you. It is as if it was your hands that drew out the aysnatanhì. You See so much and yet you are blind to this. He was mated but she is gone. His heart is free to be given to another. His children will need a mother. I will not allow you to keep yourself from happiness.”

“Syay,” she says pointedly. “It has been decided.”

And so it has. The dreamwalker that looks like Kiri and the woman that shares Neteyam’s face stare at you when you sleep. And when it isn’t their yellow eyes it is toruk’s voice ringing in your mind. He is lonely, in your dreams. Nearly desperate. The same look that takes over Jake’s eyes whenever you pass him by as if he were a stranger. You’re hurting him, you realize, just as much as you are hurting yourself. And it is a pain that can be easily soothed. Eywa has shown you how to heal if only you’ll listen. As if hearing your thoughts as if they were her own, your sister speaks again.

“You were tsakarem just as I was and yet you act as if you do not See. I know that you do. There is freedom in life but some things are decided by the Great Mother’s will. This has been one of those things. Eywa has guided you here, tsmuke, do not ignore her.” Her voice carries a tone of finality. It is the truth and you’ve felt the Great Mother’s guidance. It is as strong and unwavering as mighty toruk, as patient and comforting as Jake’s gentle words. He is meant for you just as you’re meant for him. There is a reason you’ve met him now. He had his mate. She was meant for him just as you are but that was then. Her purpose was served and her spirit returned to be with Eywa. The final hesitant piece of your heart wonders if you’ll leave him just as soon. If your purpose beside him is to be completed just as quickly. It hardly matters. Your heart was his from the moment you first saw him. If death waits close around the bend you’ll gladly face it if he remains by your side until Eywa calls your spirit home.

Ronal seems to soften after she’s said her piece. A heaving breath leaves her as she steadies her anger, expelling the negative energy from her body in a great heaving sigh. After a moment her eyes open and they no longer carry the stinging bite of disappointment. Instead she has softened to a look of quiet anticipation. A small smile sits in the corner of her mouth, barely lifting her cheeks.

“Tonight we celebrate the return of our brothers and sisters. It is a time for happiness. Dress beautifully, wear your adornments. I want to see my sister shine brightly on this sacred night.” It is the same thing you said to her so many years ago on the night that Tonowari chose her. She is relieved, happy. This will be a burden lifted from her shoulders at last. With a resolute nod she leaves you to dress. As a former tsakarem you’re afforded more beautiful garbs than most women of the clan just as Ronal is. Tsahìk is always the most lavishly decorated woman and being your sister’s right hand has provided you with the same dignified attire. The Awa’atlu tradition of training many for the role of tsahìk means that each woman to complete the trials is just as precious to the clan as the chosen tsahìk mated to olo’eyktan. The People often present you with lovely gifts of the most beautiful beads, shimmering shells, and handsomely dyed materials after healing a member of their family or teaching their child to swim. It’s a balanced exchange as you return the favors with carefully made baskets and newly carved knives.

The most precious of these gifts you’ve kept hidden away to be used only as ceremonial pieces. For births and deaths, and the celebration of completed rites. The return of the tulkun marks such a worthy event. It’s as you’re combing through your basket of woven tops and beaded loincloths that Tsireya joins you, arms overflowing with freshly picked flowers.

“Ma sa’tsmuke.” She says happily. There’s a bounce in her step as she sits beside you. “Ma sa’nok has asked us to make aysylangtel for tonight’s ceremony.”

“Did you enjoy your time with your spirit sister?” You ask as the two of you weave together the flower cords. The petals are soft between your fingers as you weave together the stems until you’ve braided a rope as long as your tail. They’re meant to be worn in your hair, along the length of your tswin.

“Yes,” she laughs bashfully, “I had much to tell her.” She doesn’t say more, cheeks flushed a soft shade of purple as her tail sways happily against the woven floor. She speaks instead of making aysylangtel for Kiri and Tuk after you’ve finished with the ones meant for Ronal and herself as well as yours. When they’re finished she gleefully takes them to the Sullys, leaving you with the brightest of the cords. The flowers bloom in shades of sunlight. Red, orange, and yellow petals tipped in black. It feels like another sign from the Great Mother. These are toruk’s colors. It determines your dress as you set aside any choice that isn’t the color of firelight and when the first drum beats begin to echo over the village you emerge from your home draped in flames.

The ceremony is beautiful as it always is. Torchlight dances over the calm waters as the village comes alive with the voices of the People. Ronal’s voice rings over the water as she formally welcomes the tulkun home, Tonowari’s booming voice seconding her words. When the time comes and the drums begin to beat anew Ronal nods to you expectantly. You stride forward in time to the music until the ocean rises up to your knees. The sound of your voice peals through the air like the caw of a bird, sharp and melodic as you begin to sing. The first verse of the song is yours alone as you dance through the water, beads and shells of your clothes tinkling with each movement. Euphoria wells inside you, blooming through your chest like a flower as you sing the story of the tulkun. It is nearly as old as the First Songs, passed down from the ancestors and your body moves with each word. Such dances tell a story, signing in a grander, more fluid way than how you speak in daily life.

Every woman of the village will play a part in this performance and their voices begin to join you. They flow together like the rise and fall of the waves as the song begins in earnest. The history of the tulkun is long and storied. It will take hours before the song is finished. By then the girls will begin to sing, their young voices swelling the music to a close as the tulkun join the chorus. The whole of the celebration moves like the tides as the crowd thins and renews in waves as more people leave and arrive. There is a whole night of celebration ahead and no one will arrive late to enjoy it. The first line of dancers falls away and you with them, returning to find Tuk bouncing excitedly on shore, her eager hopping stirring up soft bursts of sand.

“Sa’nu! Sa’nu!” Her smile is nearly wide enough to split her cheeks, round eyes wide with wonder as she grabs one of your hands in hers. The shortened aysylangtel you made for her beats against her back as she swings your arm eagerly.

“You looked so pretty, Sa’nu!” Kiri settles her hands on Tuk’s shoulders to get her to still.

“You look very lovely, Sa’nok. Your voice is beautiful.”

“Thank you, ’ite.” You dare to say. For a moment, Kiri startles, her brows rising before her face settles into a shy smile. When her gaze flits up to you through her lashes she looks content. It eases your heart to know your sister’s words have been true. Even as you saw Jakesully’s children grow closer to you like flowers bending towards the sun you hadn’t dared to claim them so forwardly, scared of the rejection. They had a mother. You seeing them, no matter how vaguely it has been, truly solidified them in your mind. No longer were they shapeless threads of words said in passing. For you to so blatantly step into that place could’ve been seen as a thing worth sneering at. But there is no offense on Kiri’s face.

“Have you seen your father?” It’s your hope that you don’t sound desperately curious asking after Jake’s whereabouts.

“Last I saw he was with olo’eyktan.”

“I will look for Tonowari then.” You find the olo’eyktan around a fire smoldering in the sand with a few men around him. Many eyes rise to meet your arrival; green, blue, and a bright shade of yellow.

“Our lovely tsakarem.” Tonowari greets you. He’s one of the few in the clan to still call you as such. There’s a fondness in his words that hasn’t wavered since the elders first declared you as a potential mate for him, though the affection between the two of you is like that of siblings. Your heart was never moved by Tonowari the same as your sister’s was. Yet the other men collected around the fire seem more enticed. Their eyes are easy to understand. Drunk from fermented juice and hearts light with the spirit of celebration, they’ve become bolder with their admirations. The only one that is unmoved by your arrival is Jake. His face is tight and guarded, eyes flickering with firelight and nothing else as he watches you watch him. It’s a wonder the way he can so completely close himself off, hiding his soul and masking his feelings. The feeling of wanting to unravel him rises again as you hold out your hand for him to take. It is a request, but there will be great pain inside you if he rejects this humble offering of reconciliation. You are at fault for gouging this rift between the two of you and it’s your hope to bridge it tonight.

For a moment he simply looks at your hand as it sits before him and there’s a cold flash of pain inside you when you realize that you might be too late. He said he would wait. Promised that he would. But perhaps you’ve made him wait for too long. It’s not until his hand joins with yours that your racing mind settles. He looks to where your hand sits in his, thumb tracing over your skin before he meets your gaze once more and it’s like a storm has lifted. The silence between the two of you still speaks so many words as you watch the light of the fire play over his features. Feeling emboldened you pull him away from the men around the fire.

“You must dance.” Jake is already shaking his head before you’re more than two steps from where he’d been sitting.

“You must. It is the way!” A new verse has started and the melody has shifted. In the time of the First Songs the tulkun were unruly. Fighting amongst themselves, killing each other. This new rhythm marks the turn in their histories when they began to see that killing only brings about more killing. It is a livelier tune more fit for dancing than what you had first sung when the celebration began. Already couples are forming on the beach, eager to enjoy the night’s festivities.

“Go,” Tonowari laughs when Jake looks to olo’eyktan for help. “She is one of the best dancers in the clan. You will enjoy yourself.”

“I’ve never been a very good dancer.” Jake laughs as you drag him into the crowd.

“Then show me a dance you know.” The dances of the Metkayina are complex. Men and women face each other and move in a winding line that spins and twirls like waves, weaving between each other and switching partners as you go. It will surely be too much for Jake to learn in a night and he seems to ease at the thought of not joining the already dizzying swirl of dancers. The dance he teaches you is comparatively simple yet more intimate. There’s a closeness about it as you press your hands and chests together before stepping away from each other. Eventually Jake doesn’t want to part and his hands twine with yours, lowering them but not letting go.

“And who taught you this dance Toruk Makto?” The smile on his face slips at your playful words. Sadness flashes in his eyes before it settles into something fond as he releases one of your hands to catch the curve of your cheek in his palm.

“My muntxate.” As soon as he says it his ears fall in shame. Just for a moment it feels as if he isn’t seeing you even as his bright eyes rest on your face.

“Come,” you say to break him from his reverie. “I want to show you something.” He lets you lead him to the water’s edge, following behind when you mount your ilu. Jake says nothing as the two of you ride past the edge of the reef into open waters. There still isn’t much danger so close to the village and you only go as far as a smaller island just outside the safety of the seawall. Jake is silent through all of it, allowing you to lead him wherever you please.

The island’s shores are stony and thick with trees, the world alight with a familiar blue and green glow so far from the light of torches. Jake watches as you dance through the trees, happiness still soaring in your heart despite his soured attitude.

“I’m sorry.” He says, finally breaking his silence.

“What is there to be sorry for?”

“I shouldn’t have said that,” he insists, “not to you.”

“Why shouldn’t you? Unless you are running from me now, Jakesully.”

“Never.” You hear the hesitance in his voice even as he grabs your hand to pull you closer. He looks beautiful in the light of the trees. It’s different from the hues of the village where everything is drawn close to shore over the light of the ocean. Jake looks more at ease here. It is not the forest but it must feel like something close to home for him, or at least that was your hope in bringing him here.

“But it feels wrong. To talk about her. With you.”

“Jake, you said that I may have you. That you will be mine. I do not want just a part of you.”

“You have me, yawne, I swear. I meant what I said that night. I’m yours.” He suddenly seems frantic.

“Jake, I am not ignorant. I know that you have lived before we met. You were tawtute, uniltìrantokx, Toruk Makto. You’ve carried many names, led many lives. I was not a part of it until now. Why would I fault you for decisions made before we met?”

“It doesn’t bother you? That I was mated before now?”

“It did. I felt like I was taking something from someone else. But not anymore. We do not have to be mated before Eywa. I know that tsaheylu is sacred. Knowing that I’m yours is enough.” The words pain your heart but it is a sacrifice that you are willing to make to stay by his side. Bonds aren’t made frivolously. To form tsaheylu is to commit your souls to one another for life, and he has already given that part of himself to another. Life has parted them but, to him, it must feel like a wound that will never heal. It would be wrong of you to ask when he has already given you so much. His eyes search yours and you’re grateful that Eywa has not given your gift to everyone. If she had he would see the falsehood in your words. Still he reassures you.

“I chose you. I want you. All of you.” His hands move from yours, drawing up the length of your arms and the curve of your shoulders until he’s holding your face with the softest touch.

“You look so beautiful.” He whispers so quietly that you’re not sure you were meant to hear, but the sentiment is shared. He is beautiful. Thick locs, yellow eyes, soft stomach. He leans into your touch when your hands find his face in turn, thumbs brushing over the light of his tanhì and the dark shapes of his pil. So different but so familiar.

“Come, I have something to show you.” Jake seems to be in lighter spirits, as playful as he’d been on the night the two of you climbed the terraces. His hand tugs at your tail as you lead him further inland, laughing when you swing your hips to smack him with it. It’s a beautiful sound. One that you prefer to the melancholic tone he’d taken earlier.

“It’s here.” You watch Jake’s face as he ducks into the clearing hidden by low hanging leaves. His head tilts, tail swaying inquisitively behind him.

“What is it?”

“I do not know. I found it once when I was young, avoiding my training as a hunter. Ronal and I call it Wayutral.”

“Tree of Songs?” He’s curious now, ears flickering in interest. The tree is small by comparison to the rest rising to the sky around you. It’s rooted in the basin of a tide pool, trunk twisted like a braid, with only its spindly branches dotted with glowing pink flowers reaching above the glowing water. It’s a strange tree but Pandora is full of such curiosities. Gifts from the Great Mother. The bark of the tree is soft and glows a pale purple at the gentlest touch, lighting veins through the tree when you connect your tswin. In an instant you hear voices raise in a joyous song. It is not always the same but they’re always familiar. Sometimes a lullaby from childhood or one of the First Songs. Today the tree sings a tulkun song meant to welcome a new birth, their voicing ringing deep and haunting in your mind.

“What do you hear?” You ask as Jake ties his tswin to the tree. His brows draw down and his ears tighten against his head. Perhaps it is a sad song the Wayutral has shown him.

“It’s a tawtute song. Like a Taronway. Marines chant it during training.”

“Marines?” Your Na’vi tongue stumbles over the syllables of the word. Another English word for you to learn. Jake breaks tsaheylu and your heart wilts. This was meant to be a happy exchange and it’s been spoiled by memories of his past.

“It’s nothing.” He shakes away the thought.

“I’m sorry. Wayutral only sings memories. I didn’t know what it would show you.” You draw your tswin over your shoulder, fingers picking at the bright flowers of your aysylangtel. The bright petals begin to gray under your anxious fingers until Jake collects your hands in his. His eyes linger on the length of the orange flowers, or perhaps he’s staring at your tswin. Either way his eyes draw away slowly, blinking away the distraction as his eyes meet yours.

“It’s not your fault, sweet girl. I’m not upset, it’s just been so long since I heard anything like that. Brought back memories.”

“Bad memories?”

“Some.” His tone is clipped and he looks lost in thought as his five fingers play over yours. He maps the pattern of your skin with his fingertips until you break his trance with a thought you meant to keep tucked inside.

“I wish I knew.” It’s the truth. There is so much about Jake that you’ve yet to learn but your heart yearns to know every piece of him. But you hadn’t meant to let your longing slip off your tongue. A twinge of shame swims through your chest once more. His life as a tawtute is behind him and yet you want to know what he had been like. So much of his life has happened without you. It’s so uncommon to mate outside of your clan, outside of those that have been beside you since birth. Tonowari grew up beside you and Ronal and yet here is this man that was a stranger some months ago and it’s all you can do to not beg him to sing you the story of his life. You were raised to be in step with Eywa. To listen to her guidance and the spirits of the world around you. A tsahìk does not wait for Eywa’s word, she is always listening. That is what the former tsahìk taught you. Now your ears are eager to listen to every beat of Jake’s spirit. If he were a woven fabric the threads would be many colors, patterns varied as he passed through the different stages of his life.

“You want to know, yawntutsyìp?” His tone is lightened now, eyes bright with mirth as he teases your curiosity. It makes your ears lower bashfully, eyes falling away from him as heat creeps over your cheeks. Jake is quick to draw your gaze back to him with a hand under your chin.

“Don’t be shy now, yuey. If you want to know, I can show you. I can show you everything. Let me give you everything.” His lips find yours, closing the space between you. He kisses you like you are the air in his lungs after going without. Deep and desirous as if he’s trying to draw all that you are into himself, trying to taste your soul on his tongue as it grazes yours. It’s enough to make you sigh against his lips and the sound draws a satisfied smile to his lips. Jake doesn’t let you part more than a hair’s breadth from him, thumbs hooked under the curve of your jaw as he nuzzles against your cheeks.

“I want you with me.” He whispers. “Let me be with you.” A hand leaves your skin, the place he held going cold in an instant, as he draws his tswin over his shoulder.

“This is what I want.” His voice rings with assuredness. “I want this. I want you. All of you.” There isn’t a moment of hesitation as you lift your flowered braid from your shoulder. Your eyes follow the searching tendrils as they twine together until your vision goes white.

The feeling is something beyond words. Every piece of your being is lit like a flame, burning and melting as light bursts behind your eyes. It knocks you to your knees as you feel yourself tear and mend all at once, expanding and joining until there is no part of you–body or soul–that doesn’t feel touched by Jake’s presence. His gasping breath becomes your own. Your hearts beat in tandem. Everything that he is becomes a part of you, the roots of your love winding deeper than they had before. Your voice stutters when you finally find the words to speak.

“I feel you.” They’re hardly words as they fall soft as the wind from your parted lips. Jake laughs and his happiness echoes through tsaheylu. He is content as he basks in your presence. More than just being together under the light of the stars, you’re joined in tirea.

“Ma Jake.” You’re still breathless, still floating on the waves of joy. Every fiber of your being has been tied with his and you can’t tell where you end and he begins as he pulls you into his chest. Gentle hands guide your hazy eyes back to his.

“My girl,” he says through a kiss. “Oel ngati kameie.” He means it. With everything that he is, he means it. Those words, so simple, so common, draw the last dregs of pain and hesitance from your heart. He is yours. You are his.

ɴᴀ’ᴠɪ ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs

Naranawm – Polyphemus, the planet Pandora orbits

Nalutsa – a marine animal similar to an akula

Syuratan – bioluminescence

Tsakarem – tsahìk-in-training

Vitra, Tirea – soul, spirit

Yawne, Yawntutsyìp – beloved, darling

Tawtute, Sawtute – sky person, sky people

Ranteng Utralti – Spirit Tree

Tswin – neural braid

Tanhì – star, bioluminescent freckles

Atokirina’ – woodsprite, seed of the Tree of Souls

Aysnatanhì – constellations

Sa’tsmuke – aunt, mother’s sister (speculative)

Aysylangtel – flower cords, daisy chain (speculative)

‘Ite – daughter

Muntxate – wife, female mate

Uniltìrantokx – dreamwalker, avatar

Pil – facial stripes, skin stripes

Wayutral – Tree of Songs (speculative)

Taronway – hunt songs

#jake sully x reader #sully family x reader #avatar x reader #avatar #atwow

713 notes · View notes

mossyscavern · 2 years ago

Text

Flowers in mount Todd, part 2.

___________________

“So... it keeps getting worse every night?” Duncan asked.

“N-not every night... most nights.” Sam answered, making a lavender flower crown, to pass the time. “That’s still just as bad- how are you so calm?!”

Duncan asked in a shout, Sam chuckled, placed the floral crown down and stared at Duncan in the eyes. “I’m not actually, I’m terrified for my life.” Sam told him. “I just decided to keep my mind busy, that’s all.” Sam answered.

“H-how... how long have you.. had this.” Duncan asked. Sam hesitated answering at first, after an hour Sam sighed and told him. “Since I was 5.”

“THE HELL!?” Duncan yelled out, making Sam flinch at the raised voice. “HOW-... how have you lived this long?” Duncan asked, Sam shrugged, not really sure how he survived.

“From what I remember from my doctor, it bloomed early, since I was too young, the procedure is very risky... but I don’t want to loose my feeling of love.” Sam answered, Duncan understood how Sam feels.

Loosing the ability to love somebody isn’t a very happy thing, he knows that from experience. While clutching his chest, he noticed Sam is on his third flower crown. “Uh.. how long have you been making those?”

“About two minutes each, this is my third so... 6 minutes.” Sam answered while continuing to gently weave the flowers. “Would you like one?”

“You have a lot of free time, don’t you?” Duncan asked, eying the purple floral crown being woven by the red head. “Well, gotta do something.. did you know most of us had this disease since we were was born?”

Sam added, making Duncan look up, sparking his interest. “Really?! How so?” He asked, intrigued by this information from the red head, Sam chuckled, stopping his flower weaving for a minute.

“Well... it’s kind of like a spark, if the flower hasn’t bloomed in your lungs it dies, making it seem like you never had it, when it does spark something, it can either come back and bloom or just bloom... a well known disease that knows what you feel.”

Sam said finishing the flower crown. “You didn’t answer my question, do you want one or not?” Sam asked, making Duncan chuckle a bit, then realise something. “What about the blood?” He asked, making Sam look up.

With a smile, he answered. “Don’t worry, the petals have been rinsed after I threw them up.” Duncan sighed in relief, then Sam asked him to lean down.

Duncan did as he was told and Sam put it on, then took it off, saying it’s not the right size, changing it to a slightly bigger flower crown that fit perfectly. “That’s better, should I make mark one?” Sam asked.

“Better not, he’s allergic to lavender, says it gives him a headache and nausea.” He answered, Sam understood, took out his note pad and drew a line across it.

Duncan smiled, thinking it’s sweet for Sam to think about his friends like that, then realised what would happen if he dies.

Not only would mark worry about sam’s well being, Sam would probably die earlier then most hanahaki carriers, he wanted to suggest surgery... but then remembered how Sam reacted when given the option.

With no other choice left, Duncan decided to suggest something neither he or his friend would do. “Hey Sam... can I ask you something?”

“Sure What is it?” Sam asked, Duncan took a few deep breaths, gathered his courage, then finally asked.

“Have you heard of an urban legend called wick?”

___________________

Here it is! part two of flowers in mount Todd! It’s a bit... complicated, but I think it’s neat. Hope you all enjoy this complicated... but neat little story.

A bit of a headcanon for the hanahaki au for wick, Sam has a habit of making flower crowns from the flowers he threw up, just rinse off the blood and your good to go!

A bit of a fun fact, about @vinehasnohopeleft’s oc mark, I based the lavender allergy off of my mom... except the nausea bit.. then again it could happen- I’m rambling again, sorry... Uh, enjoy!

#wick hellbent games #wick 2015 #wick horror game #wick #wick au #wick sam #wick Duncan #candlebrace shipping #I love my mom #I probably should’ve asked more about my mom’s allergy but I’m pretty sure that’s one of her symptoms #and... possibly her only symptom...#I’m gonna have to ask about it later

6 notes · View notes

narrators-journal · 1 year ago

Note

kicks my legs, gimme eikichi and keigo, 7 and 20

Boy oh boy, the wheel I have the asks on picked another OC ask for my boyfriend! If you're wondering, Keigo's his boi, and he's the only one I take oc asks for bc I rp with him and also helped develop a few of em <3 I hope this is a fun read regardless tho, I tried my best.

Kinktober prompt list: Here

Kinktober masterlist: Here

CW: Dubcon energy, at least, monsterfucking because Michel is a siren here, public sex, I don't know how bath houses work lol.

With college exams finished, and the moon high in the sky, Keigo [last name] decided to head off to the public bath house. After all, with how late it was, surely it would be basically abandoned, right? Even if it had a few vampires in it, Keigo could deal with it, right?

He was wrong.

While appearing empty when he paid, with a locker room that only had the standard gray lockers and jacket hooks offering white robes when he went in to put his long, lilac hair in a ponytail and strip down to replace his clothes with a robe, meandering out onto the tiled floor of the men’s bathing area met Keigo with someone else. A blue-haired man sitting at the edge of one of the bathing pools off to the side spotted the new customer and waved cordially. Just my fucking luck.

Though, despite the moody thought, the college student gave a polite wave back and just went to the furthest pool from his new bathmate. Only for his sing-song voice to catch his ear. “Hey wait, there’s no need to dirty another tub, you can join me.” A siren, judging from the odd, infectious energy his voice woven into his words. Not potent enough to effect him, but noticeably there. “What? Dude, I don’t know you, and these things get cleaned out regardless of use.” He pointed out, looking at the man in the tub to see him pout. “Okay, you got me, I just want a cute boy to give me some attention. Jig is up.” He confessed, as dramatic as a hammy theater kid with the way he threw his head back and put an arm over his scarlet eyes. Staying like that for a moment or two to let the tanned man look over his pale skin, dark blue hair that sat gelled straight up at the front to showcase the paler strip of dyed baby blue, and well-muscled body before he spoke again. “I’m only playing though, you don’t gotta join me if you don’t want.” And, with that assurance, he gave Keigo a winning smile and simply returned to simply soaking in the hot water. Letting the college student weigh his own comfort.

Admittedly, he is pretty. A mischevious voice noted, the tanned man looking the siren over once more as he thought, the monster not seeming to care or notice as he laid his head back and shut his eyes in bliss. And, it would be kind of nice to let off some steam after exams. Or, at least see where it goes. The voice continued, and Keigo found that, yeah. He agreed with that point. He’d spent the last week doing nothing but cramming and testing and practicing for exams, he deserved a bit of relief.

So, with a sigh that got one of the monster’s cherry-colored eyes to open, Keigo dropped his robe by the pool and got in with the man. Keeping a polite distance, and focusing mostly on the water, or himself, but not complaining when the straighter slid a bit closer. “so, what’s your name, handsome?” He hummed, his words oozing charm already. “Keigo Mikata, you?” “Eikichi Mishina! A famous singer and songwriter around these parts.” The siren chirped, making the college student snort slightly, “You seem the singer type, I’m not surprised.” He hummed, getting Eikichi to snort in turn. Which, eased a bit of the anxiety chewing at Keigo’s belly.

So, he found himself pretty okay with having chosen to share the warm bath with someone new. Eikichi was entertaining to talk to, with his confidence, and friendly, flirty energy that...a few times, at least, the college boy returned. Letting himself indulge in the chaotic possibility of his chance encounter more and more. Letting the blue-haired singer inch closer and closer without ever noticing just how much that dull edge of power had chipped away at his defenses. Until, of course, it was too late.

Before Keigo could notice, Eikichi had an arm thrown lazily around his shoulders. And was leaning in close enough to bring a flood of heat to the man’s tanned face. “Uh? Can I help you?” He asked, his nerves snapping with a warring sense of excitement, and uncertainty. Despite his appearance, the singer was still a siren, and Keigo was little more than a freckle-faced, tired college student. Flirting aside, the power difference got the purple-haired student’s heart racing. "Shhhhh, easy baby" the siren hummed, his hand coming up to cup Keigo’s freckled cheek, warmed from the steam of the bath they sat in. "You trust me, don't you?" He asked, and...yeah. Keigo did find that he trusted the stranger a shocking amount already.

Sure, he wasn’t exactly human, but...with the whisps of fog slithering into his head, Keigo didn’t really have the strength, or urge, he found, to pull away when the siren pulled him into a warm kiss. And, it was, nice. A nice, slow kiss that tasted like an addictive...candy? Dessert? The purple-haired man couldn’t decide, but it drove him crazy to not know, at the same time.

Humming slightly, Keigo let the monster run his nimble fingers through his long hair and deepen the kiss. Eikichi’s other hand dipping beneath the warm water to push his thighs apart so that the blue-haired man could sit between them. Letting his erection press against the smaller male’s belly as if making some offer while the siren hummed a small tune that wriggled into Keigo’s mind like a worm in an apple. Thickening the haze.

Finally, Eikichi broke the kiss and gave the purple-haired man a charming smile as he said, “Do me a favor, baby, and suck my dick.” He hummed, making the college student scrunch up his face in disgust. “What?! I still don’t even know you! That’s a little too forward, dude.” He argued, only for the tall man to return his hand to his cheek to stroke his face lovingly while his voice gained a stronger, sing-song edge that seemed to nail his words into Keigo’s brain despite his awareness of the persuasion. “shush, darling~ It’ll be fun, I promise.” He cooed, his cherry-colored eyes captivating the college student until the power in his words saturated his thoughts. He’s right. The voice in his head told the purple-haired man, It’d be very fun to suck his dick. I bet he tastes great.

“Okay…” He muttered, mindlessly smiling back at the beautiful man when he beamed. Letting the taller man move to the edge of the bath to sit on the ledge to keep an eye out for any other people strolling into the bathhouse while Keigo moved to be the one between the blue-haired siren’s legs. He had no real thoughts of the public setting, the risk of some stranger waltzing into the steamy bathing area, or how little he knew of the convincing man before him.

All he cared about was the cock standing proudly in front of his face.

So, without a word, the college student eagerly began kissing a trail up the shaft of Eikichi’s member. Letting him tangle those elegant fingers in his hair as he hummed against the sensitive organ before continuing up to the pink head of the siren’s erection to lap up the beads of precum welling up there. And, his assumption was right, Eikichi’s precum did have that same addictive, sweet taste as his kisses.

All the while, Eikichi hummed and moaned out encouragement as Keigo swirled his tongue around the head before taking him into his mouth. Bobbing his head, the college student hummed around the monster, enjoying the melodic moans and continual humming of encouragement his actions got. Pushing him on as he bobbed his head slowly and pressed his tongue to the siren’s twitching dick to draw out more addictive noises. “Shit, your mouth feels so good.” Eikichi moaned, only to shudder and gasp when the violet-haired college student moaned around him in response. Pushing his head down and almost humping into Keigo’s mouth in a desperate need to get every inch of himself within the warmth of the man’s mouth. Which, Keigo didn’t mind, so long as it earned him more melodic sounds of lust from the singer.

So, he kept up with bobbing his head and keeping his tongue pressed to the underside of the siren’s dick. Sprinkling in a few moans of his own to make the blue-haired man quiver under his touch. Relishing the zing each noise sent into his blood, like some reward for making the man feel good.

Especially enjoying how the siren’s grip on his violet hair tightened, and his moans grew more needy and breathless when Keigo began stroking what portions of Eikichi’s throbbing cock couldn’t be taken into his mouth. Even through the thick haze of persuasion, having such a confident, charming man writhing at the edge of the bath from his actions sent bolts of stomach twisting desire and pride.

Sadly, though, before Keigo could get another taste of that delicious, sugary flavor of Eikichi’s cum, the blue-haired man pulled the eager college student off of himself. Hissing out a string of curses when, despite his attempts to deny him that drug-like taste, Eikichi’s cum splattered onto the long-haired man’s tongue and tanned cheeks. “Fuck, sorry about that…” The monster panted, untangling his fingers from the student’s limp, disheveled ponytail while his pale cheeks were dusted with a dark rosey hue as he looked down at the dazed, foggy man still sitting in the bath’s warm water. “It’s...fine,” Keigo muttered, using the steamy water to wash off the ribbons of cream from his face so he could try to give the siren a thoughtless smile.

However, before he could, that risk that always hung over public hook-ups, became reality with the blood-chilling slap of bare feet on the tile floor of the bathing area.

Thinking fast, Eikichi damn near shoved Keigo’s head completely into the warm water. He looked over his shoulder and grinned at whoever he saw. “Ah! Hey there, Tatsuya! Didn’t expect to find you out so late.” He chirped, brushing his gelled hair back into its vertical style when the steam made the strip of paler blue droop. “What brings you to a bathhouse at this hour? Jun kick you out for some spell? Looking for sacrifices?” “I got locked out of the house.” Was the simple, grumpy explanation his apparent friend gave, adding with a far more concerned edge to his deep voice, “Why are you sitting on the edge like that?” Which, sent another bucket of ice water through Keigo’s blood as he sent whatever god may be listening a swift prayer that his robe hadn’t been noticed beside the tub. However, with Tatsuya there, all he could realistically do to discourage that discovery was try to sit as still as possible in the steamy water so as to not give himself away. Inwardly willing whatever forces there were in the world, to, again, spare him the humiliation of having to explain himself.

Eikichi, meanwhile, just sighed dramatically at the question, playing off the odd position he was in with a faked confidence, rather than his vocal powers. “I forgot my fuckin’ towel in the locker room. I was trying to drip dry a bit so I don’t flood the floor, y’know? Or get the robe soggy.” Which, was responded to with a stretch of skeptical silence, before his friend sighed, “Do you want me to get you your towel?” “Yes.”

And, while maybe a little too quick of an answer, judging from Tatsuya’s huff and hesitance, Keigo did hear him return to the locker room. So, he took his chance.

Scrambling out of the hot bath water, the purple-haired man snatched up his robe and bolted for the exit without another word to the siren. Only the fiery heat of humiliation creeping across his cheeks now that the enthralling persuasion had ebbed. Making a break back to his dorm like a gazelle running from a lion. All thoughts of the siren left back at the bathhouse he swore to never return to.

#Persona 2 #Eikichi Mishina #Kinktober 2023 #Kinktober #Persona OC #Persona #Eikichi Mishina x OC #Kinktober2023 #spicy #Siren!Eikichi Mishina #Persona monsterverse #not sfw #lemon #scenario #ask #kinktober ask #bathhouses

0 notes

mu-qingfang-stan-account · 2 years ago

Text

i have been having... A TIME... this week, but i am FINALLY on desktop which means i can answer this!!

relationship status: practicing cultivational purity <3 (aroace)

favorite colors: HASHTAG PURPLE LIFE

favorite food: a while back at work we were having a conversation over lunch about which food you'd pick if you could only eat one thing for the rest of your life, and it's gotta be burritos for me. (to elaborate: carnitas, black beans, spanish rice, fajita veggies, roasted-tomato salsa or salsa verde, and, if i'm feeling like some kind of decadent child king, guacamole.)

song stuck in your head: for the past few days i've been listening to The Rocky Road to Dublin on loop, so currently it's that. (other songs that have been stuck in my head recently: bellowhead's version of Roll the Woodpile Down, the high kings' Step It Out Mary, the trials of cato's Bedlam Boys, and anaïs mitchell's Willie's Lady. i'm going through a phase rn dont @ me)

last thing you googled: the actual last thing i googled was anaïs mitchell because i dont remember the ubuntu shortcuts for diacritics, only the vim ones, but immediately before that it was "what to do with mobile deposit checks" (boring) and "norwegian tablet weaving" (i need a new hobby like i need a hole in the head and i already have some woven bands i bought in setesdal for if i ever get off my ass and make a bunad. HOWEVER,)

time: 13:00 on the dot

dream trip: for ages i've been rotating in my head a road trip up from california to seattle and back, hitting everything in the list of historical mechanical engineering places on the west coast. as i originally planned it in 2019 the goal was to visit the living computer museum in seattle, which is unfortunately now closed indefinitely due to covid, but i'm sure there are other, less exciting things in seattle. another key stop is powell's bookstore in portland (this is a primary motive for it being a road trip: i intend to LOAD THE FUCK UP).

if we're talking pipe dreams, i really want to go to the kubinka tank museum with the besties @transbionic-shieldmaiden and @combat-epistemologist, because @transbionic-shieldmaiden infodumped to us about tanks for a solid half hour when we were at the aquarium and i want to see her in her Final Form (ascended autistic). this is probably not going to happen, though, because it is in russia and all of us are queer and trans :/

my other Unnecessarily Profligate Pipe Dream Vacation is to take six months off work and travel around the world experiencing trains and cool architecture. i fly to london, i wander around the british isles looking at castles and gothic cathedrals, i take the train to france, i visit the notre dame in paris and probably also rheims cathedral, i take the train to germany, i wander around berlin for a while because i've never been there, i take the train down to munich my beloved and thence to switzerland when i'm done looking at castles in bavaria, i go hiking a bunch in switzerland and attempt to understand swiss german, i take the train to austria, once i feel i can read dutch with a straight face i go to the netherlands, eventually when i'm done taking trains in europe i fly to japan, etc. you get the idea.

last thing you read: currently rereading this wangxian bodyswap fic (usually i dont read much mdzs fic but i felt The Urge after finishing vol 5), but according to my ao3 history the actual last thing i read was this because i randomly remembered it existed

last book you enjoyed reading: this, a translation of a delightfully unhinged late-Ming guide for avoiding scams

last book you hated reading: usually i dont bother to slog through books i hate but i was really frustrated by Move Fast and Break Things by Jonathan Taplin, probably because i've been so Cory Doctorow-pilled (HIGHLY recommend reading Chokepoint Capitalism if the topic of making a living as a creator under tech platform dominance is of interest). mr. taplin is, like, SO CLOSE to getting it! i'm nodding along with 80% of his arguments! and then he always concludes that copyright law needs to be stricter and the DMCA didn't go far enough.

wait i forgot about this until i flipped through my book tracker but i also genuinely hated Gold Fame Citrus by Claire Vaye Watkins. it's technically well-executed but it contains both major character death and deeply annoying PoV characters, two of my least favorite things.

favorite thing to cook/bake: i normally do not cook because i am terrible at remembering to eat until i'm already too hungry to function, so it's a very good thing @combat-epistemologist meal preps for me. once in a blue moon i'll make, like, these cookies or sugar cookies or lefse or something.

favorite craft to do in your free time: i'm the mayor of Weird Hobby City and i live there full-time. my latest obsession is bookbinding (usually of danmei and fanfiction) but i also knit, crochet, quilt, sew, restore antique sewing machines, oil paint, and sometimes do woodworking (no pictures of that, sorry). i also used to build robots in my dad's garage but now that i have a full-time robot job i don't really have the energy for additional, extracurricular robotics :p

most niche dislike: coworkers with SLIGHTLY different opinions about how to represent three-dimensional coordinate transforms. quaternion haters dont even fucking speak to me

opinion on circuses: i constantly look with yearning at the circus arts classes at the san francisco circus center, because as a kid my primary sport was gymnastics and, like, i miss it terribly but i also want to do a different, adjacent form of exercise where the ghost of my judgmental twelve-year-old self isn't constantly looking over my shoulder.

do you have any sense of direction: somewhat, but i definitely have to live in a place for a while and build up a mental coordinate system first -- in boston/cambridge/somerville i referenced the charles river, mass ave, and the red line, and if i got out of range of all of those points of reference i relied heavily on google maps to get me un-lost. in the sf bay area as long as i'm on the peninsula and 101/the bay/the santa cruz mountains are visible i can usually triangulate, and i grew up in the south bay so the 85/101/237 triangle is pretty familiar, but i get hopelessly lost in the east bay (580? 880? 680????); google maps is the only reason i've ever managed to arrive in berkeley intact.

tagging: @verycharismaticdragon, @owldork1998, @ilthit, @blondejaneblonde, @wolffyluna, @ghostly-squid (usual rules apply -- feel free to ignore, or consider yourself tagged if you like)

Tag 10 People You Wanna Get to Know Better

Tagged by @bishounen-jump <33. Prefacing this by saying I have terrible memory.

Relationship Status: A toxic relationship with my college who I hate very much but I need for the money.

Favorite Colors: Black and Purple.

Favorite Food: I can't pick man. I'm awful at these questions. uhh Ramen. All of them.

Song Stuck in My Head: Funnily enough I've never had a song stuck in my head.

Last Thing You Googled: "dunce cap" ; It was an image search. Highly recommend.

Time: 1:42 pm

Dream Trip: World trip. I absolutely hate travelling and have insane motion sickness. I wish I could just teleport places. But to one day be able to (and have the funds) travel around the world just sounds fun.

Last Thing You Read: Currently trying to read Mo Du.

Last Book You Enjoyed Reading: I was re-reading Liu Yao and it's honestly such fun (skip the island obviously). I adore the characterisations and interactions.

Last Book You Hated Reading: Good Omens. I can't explain it but there's something about Neil Gaiman's writing that makes it feel like I'm slogging through it. His books always have such interesting plots though.

Favorite Thing to Cook/Bake: (;o;) I'm awful at both (;o;)

Favorite Craft to Do in Your Free Time: I need to learn how to sew and all those handy hobbies. For now I just doodle or write words in the hope it'll improve my handwriting.

Most Niche Dislike: People being incessantly insecure on main. Please by all means go ahead. I just need to block and move on. Wish tumblr had a mute function.

Opinion on Circuses: Never been to one. I think clowns are a necessity in this world in general. They're also a sign that you can really just be whoever you want in this world. Yet another reason to hate capitalism. How many people do you know who would've become clowns if they didn't need money?

Do You Have Any Sense of Direction: Yes, I can actually read a map and if I go through a route at least twice I'll remember the turns.

I tag thee: @katie-altman @anqelbean @oscar-mildes @missveryvery @mu-qingfang-stan-account @cum-villain

#thanks for thinking of me this was super fun!!#the trashcan speaks #also whats it like to never have had a song stuck in your head. IT MUST BE SO QUIET IN THERE??#not only do i always have music stuck in my head sometimes its multiple songs simultaneously. hell

7 notes · View notes

kazewhara · 3 years ago

Note

I AW UR LITTLE BIG BROTHER KAZUHAA SCENARIO OMG OMG OMG IT WAS SO FREAKING CUTE. THAT GOT ME THINKING- LIKE LISTEN LISTEN--- IMAGINE US LIKE LITTLE SIBLING MAKING FLOWER CROWNS FOR KAZUHA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKKSSKS

"what're you hiding from me?"

you hold whatever it is you're hiding from your brother closer to your chest and hold up an arm behind you, keeping him away. "no looking!" you yell. "it's a secret!"

kazuha decided to take you with him on his travels not too long ago and today, your journey landed you in mondstadt. you two were supposed to explore the city today, but for now, you were taking a break under the biggest tree you've ever seen in your life. you can't believe you ever thought the sacred sakura was big; this tree makes the sacred sakura look like a twig!

you didn't really feel all that tired, so while your brother leaned on the statue and closed his eyes for a while, you noticed something the most fascinating flowers scattered around the area. you tried to remember what you read in books about mondstadt, but all that came to mind was the fact that this nation's archon was the anemo archon. you approached the flowers and noticed that their petals were spinning in the breeze, reminding you of a pinwheel. you peeked over your shoulder at your brother, who was still slumbering against the anemo archon's statue. as soon as you noticed that the flowers sort of matched the color of the streak in in your brother's hair, you got an idea.

kazuha woke to see you hunched over something not too far away from him, humming a familiar tune while you worked. when he asked what you were doing, you gathered your stuff and moved further away from him. he called your name suspiciously, but you didn't budge.

"you're really not going to tell me what you're up to?" kazuha says in his best wounded voice. "i thought we didn't keep secrets."

you look at him over your shoulder and dart your eyes between him and the nearly complete flower crown in your lap. he's only looking at you like that because he knows you can never say no to him like this. you make a small sound and turn back to your flower crown. "it's not a secret then," you say, not wanting him to look so sad anymore, "it's a surprise."

your brother steps closer and you hunch over it. "a surprise? is it for me, then?" when you nod, he chuckles and rests his hand in your hair fondly. "alright, alright. is it almost done?"

"you always tell me that patience is a virtue, so be patient, kazu'."

kazuha puffs a laugh, impressed by your snark. "i don't know if i should scold you for being so mean, or be proud that you listened to me."

he'll definitely be proud, you think, because you've finally finished your present. you hop to your feet and hold out the finished flower crown to your brother, giggling when his eyes widen. "so? were you surprised?" you gently tap the ever-spinning petals. "i can't remember what these flowers were called but look!" you point at the crystal cores woven in between a few of the flowers. "there were a bunch of crystalflies around! c'mon, you gotta put it on!"

kazuha doesn't take it from you right away in favor of gawking at your handiwork. it's not often that your brother is speechless. "you made this for me?" he reaches for the flower crown and you hand it to him. he handles it so delicately, like it was going to fall apart at any second. (it wasn't though; you made sure of that.) "you used windwheel asters... what made you want to do this?" he asks.

you frown, bewildered by his question. "why wouldn't i make you a flower crown? you're my brother and i love you." you say as if it wasn't already obvious. "hey, you didn't tell me if you liked it or not."

maybe when you're older, you'll understand just how much warmth is in the smile kazuha gives you. "i love it." he says. he reaches out and pats your head twice; it's his way of expressing just how much he loves you without actually saying it out loud. "and i love you too. now, can i ask you to put it on me?"

you nod quickly and take the flower crown from his hands and rest it on his head. you give him your brightest grin when you step away to get a better look at it. "well? what do you think?"

"i think i was right!"

kazuha tilts his head to the side. "right about what?"

you spot another flower not too far away so you pluck it and hurry back. you hold the flower beside your brother's face. "the flowers match your hair," you shift it up a little, "and your eyes, too! sorta."

kazuha's gaze is soft as he takes the flower from your fingers and tucks it in your hair above your ear. "thank you." he says again. "you have a good eye for detail. i think we match too, now."

you gasp. "wait, i didn't even make one for me! stay right there!" kazuha doesn't even get a word out before you're scampering away to find more flowers and crystalflies.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #platonic genshin x reader #platonic kazuha x reader #z anon #z box #z scribbles #z list #i love windrise #it's my quiet spot #yes yes

507 notes · View notes

mymommykinkismywholepersonality · 3 years ago

Text

<Spending the night with Mammon and praising him and stuff, Mammons's like "O-of course you would wanna please the great Mammon!" And reader just agrees and keeps praising him while making a complete mess of him.

I'm depressed and horni so I needed something soft to cope :,)>

"Can't believe Beel did that, what a knuckle head." Mammon grumbled, unfolding the futon next to his bed.

"The house took some damage but I'm mostly relieved no one got hurt." you sigh falling back on Mammon's bed and inhaling deeply. To your dismay it didn't smell as strongly of him as you would've liked, frowning you realizing he must have changed the sheets.

"No one got hurt? Ha! That won't be the case if you keep me up all night with that foghorn snorin' of yours!" Even with his back facing you, you could hear the smile in his voice. Honestly he was a loud mouth and greedy (duh) but he had a heart of gold. At least for those he cared about, and you were lucky enough to become one of those special people.

"Hey golden boy, can you come here for a minute?" Sitting up you patted the spot next to you. Confused but without protest he granted your request asking you what was wrong. "I'm really grateful you let me stay with you Mammon, and giving me your bed none the less."

"Well I wouldn't make you stay with Beel after the incident, you must've been pretty scared. But don't sweat it human, you can pay me back later. Man you're so lucky that THE Great Mammon is so generous!" You felt your heart squeeze at his signature laugh. Feeling mesmerized you didn't realize you were leaning in so close until you saw his face explode with color.

"W-w-what are you doing human!" Contradicting his panicked face he didn't pull away giving you that boost of confidence needed to take action.

Without hesitating you pushed him back onto the bed before straddling him. "I know Luci chewed you out pretty good but you didn't deserve that, I wanna make it up to you and thank you. Do you want me to?" Slowly you began to grind right above his crotch.

"I-um. I- Uhh" The color slowly started to spread down his neck and to his ears while he desperately tried to think of answer.

Of course you'd seen him flustered before but this was a new level! It kinda suited him so you decided to tease. "You what? You gotta use your words if you want me to keep going baby boy." You leaned down and crossed your arms on his chest, noses now almost touching. The poor boy still seemed to be in a daze so you tugged gently at one of his strand of hair before rolling it between your fingers.

"I mean o-of course! I'm the great Mammon after all! S-so I suppose if y-ou're short on grimm I can accept this payment instead."

You moved your hand from his hair to his cheek softly caressing it. "What a merciful debtor, I'll give you my best, someone as great as you deserves that and nothing less. Let me take care of you." You pecked his lips giggling at how he tried to sit up to get more, gently stopping him.

Sliding his jacket down his arms,you made sure to kiss the top of each hand as they slipped out of it. Next you untucked his shirt and ran your hands gently under the hem before slowly sliding it up his torso. As you scrunched up the fabric you leaned down to trail kisses over his stomach, not leaving an inch without feeling the warmth of your mouth. By the time you got to his nipples he was shifting underneath you grinding his bulge into you and letting out breathy whines but you let him, moving your attention to his brown nubs.

As you spent more time on the sensitive spots his whines became more audible but he didn't complain, instead he arched his back so you could have more access. After you made sure each nipple would be sore the next day you continued sliding his shirt upwards, holding his arms over his head a bit like cuffs. Keeping his arms in that position you started leaving marks along his neck, on his collar bones, and even one on his jaw.

Grinding back down on him you moved your mouth next to his ear. "You're such a pretty boy for me Mammon, being so good. Letting me take care of you." After leaving a mark under his ear you continued your praise, "You're such a good boy, aren't you my good boy?" Finally looking at his face, you felt your core throb. His cheeks were flushed, lips swollen but open letting out short pants, shining from drool, and his eyes were glossed over and wide looking at you with so much warmth and affection. "Mammon," you repeated finally getting his attention. "Aren't you my good boy?"

He quickly nodded in agreement. "Yes! Yes! 'M your good boy! Please, please, keep going! I'll be good still! Promise!" He sounded so beautiful out of breath and desperate for you to continue. Fortunately the urge to spoil him was stronger than the one to tease him.

"Relax darling, I'm gonna take care of you, don't worry your pretty little head ok? Just be patient for me." You said reassuring him, removing some hair that had begun sticking to his forehead. He nodded again, eyes still trained on your every movement.

Sliding your hands up, slipping the shirt off completely, you held his wrist and began to kiss them. You reveled in the needy moans he let out as you harshly sucked on one. Finally you kissed each of his palms, tickling the skin. "Good litte boy, making so many pretty sounds. Can you help me and get these out of the way bubs?" After you unbuttoned his jeans, Mammon quickly raised his hips trying desperately to be rid of his woven confinements. Being just as eager you decided to pull his underwear and pants down in one go, revealing his hardened cock.

"L-like what you see?" Still panting he managed a prideful tone avoiding eye contact. You couldn't help but admire your handy work; skin flushed, covered in marks and sweat, pupils dilated, dick dripping, and hands pulling the sheets off the mattress.

"Baby boy, you're so gorgeous. So pretty, so good. You really are. I'm gonna make you feel even better now, ok?" Quickly removing your clothes, except your bra, you positioned yourself over his erection. As impatient as you were he never answered so you took his chin in one hand, other gripping his shoulder. "Love, I need you to use your words."

"I-I want this! Please Y/n! I need this! N-need you!" He pleaded grabbing your wrist with both hands. Smirking into the kiss you'd pulled him into, you finally sank down onto his length. The warm contrast to the cool air making him moan loudly; with that, you entered his mouth, completely dominating the kiss. Even though you were as close as you could possibly get, Mammon still moaned for more in-between kisses. It was really hot, he wanted "more" and yet your tongues were intertwined, chests rubbing against each other, his cock inside you, these thoughts prompted you to slowly move your hips, grinding on him.

"Mammon, you're such a special boy. You're so strong, and clever." You panted out between pulling yourself up and down his cock. Halting your movements and clenching around his length you grabbed his face, forcing eye contact. Even if you hadn't been clenching around him before the way he was looking at you would have changed that. Resting your forehead on his you gazed into his teary eyes. "You're my precious boy, don't forget that ok?" The poor boy was so overwhelmed he just nodded before bringing you into another kiss. It was long but more slow and romantic, by the time you separated your hands were tangled in his white locks. Still catching your breath you began moving up and down again with his hands gripped onto your sides.

You didn't know how long it'd been, caught up in the feeling of his dick, and hands, and gaze. But before you knew it he was warning you of his oncoming orgasm. "G-gonna cum y/n! You're ma-aking me c-cum!" His tongue fell out after he managed to pull himself together enough to be coherent.

"Aw, good b-boy. Good job telling me. S-so, proud of you." After you finished your sentence Mammon let out a whiney moan, nails digging into your hips as he thrusted up into you. The sight of him coming undone brought your orgasm and as you were finishing he was still riding out his high.

After his grip had loosened on you, you pulled yourself off him. But as soon as you were off him, he was on your lap, legs and arms wrapped around you while he nestled his face into your neck. You were still in a daze so you both sat in silence listening to the other catch their breath. "Th-thank you Y/n." He whispered quietly into your neck.

Fingers finding their way to his hair you gently start to massage his scalp. "No thanks necessary Mammon, it was my pleasure. And besides, I meant everything I said, you really are so amazing. I'm glad I can be here with you." Slowly you two fell asleep, futon forgotten.

#dom reader #sub character #sub obey me #sub! obey me #obey me #sub mammon #sub boy #om! mammon #mammon x reader

860 notes · View notes

ihatebnha · 3 years ago

Note

Okay, okay, you don't gotta write it, (some people don't write for them and that's perfectly fine if you don't) but could you possibly please do All Might and Endeavor icks ??? 🤔

COULD I? absolutely.

enjoy!

All Might

One of those old people who has to take a bunch of "vitamins" both at breakfast and at dinner

Has multiple coughing fits a night

Falls asleep when you're watching TV together if he doesn't like the show or movie, but expects you to like his choices

Eats "health foods" and always tries to get you to eat them, too

And not just like, spinach smoothies or whatever, I mean like... raw egg and beetroot type health foods

Listens to classic rock just because it's American

Thinks that going for a walk is a date... and will wear Hawaiian shirts when he’s out with you

Wears mismatched socks

Uses his "All Might" voice on you in arguments, and probably tries to baby you when he doesn’t think you should do something... like say, go out with friends at night

Probably really touchy. Like, insanely touchy. Which is fine for the most part... except when you don't want to be touched

"Why won't you just tell me what's wrong?"

And pesters you when you don't finish a meal

If you physically hand him anything you're eating and forget to take it back, he's finishing it for you

Doesn't matter what he says in defense of himself, Midoriya is your stepson (practically, at least)

Snacks on things like trail mix and nuts and craisins... and shakes them in his hand before eating them

Wakes up at the crack of dawn... and even though he doesn't expect you to get up with him, is always happier when you do

You mention that you want to start doing anything to him, like exercising more, or learning how to knit... and even if you don't really mean it, he's coming up with a plan and schedule on how you can

And if you do commit to the schedule, or show interest in it... he always questions if you fail to meet the requirements of it

Sometimes does that thing where he’ll randomly self-deprecate and refuse to accept any of your compliments

Wears loafers and woven sandals???

Endeavor

Well, first off... it's literally canon that he smells like "old man..." so, uh... jot that down

And he's large as hell, so obviously his burps + farts are, too

Plus, I just know his feet smell bad

Snores like an absolute BEAR. Every single night

Literally has four children who don't really like him. Ick.

Gets on you for bad habits...

"Don't drink that, there's too much sugar," + "Don't pick at your face. You'll bleed," type shit

And for buying useless things without telling him, too...

"Why did you buy a new raincoat? You have one at home." OR "I could've gotten this for you," type beat

Does that man thing where, when he wakes up, stretches, yawns and makes a noise that literally rattles the whole house

Little fuzzy mustache and beard. While yes, it's usually on fire... no, he won't grow it out

Constantly blows up your phone with useless informations and texts... and will call you by your first name over messaging, too

Can and will fall asleep sitting up in bed while he's reading

Hates PDA and refuses to accept affection out in the open... which is ironic because later, he'll then start to question when you're ticked off at him for brushing you off

Tells you to "calm down" when you're upset

And probably doesn't believe in, like... PMS either. Tells you to suck it up because it's just "pain"

Probably has really... old-fashioned taste, so dressing up for him in something the both of you truly like is really hard

It's not like he doesn't think you're sexy... he's just the "are you sure you want to go out looking like... that?" when there's literally just a tiny bit of exposed skin showing

(You show him a picture of you with your friend and he's pointing to your chest and asking "why?")

Because if it were up to him, everything you wear would have a high neckline and/or would go down to your ankles

Also has probably has tried to order for you at a restaurant at least once

#all might x reader #endeavor x reader #all might #endeavor #ask #anon #caitie post #icks tw #sorry this took so long #im just taking my sweet time with everything huh

184 notes · View notes

inastrangerskiss · 3 years ago

Text

apples

Zack Sabre Jr. x Reader

content warning: pumpkin spice flavored fluff

summary: you convince zack to go apple picking with you

“You need to slow down!” You called after the long-legged man as the distance between the two of you grew.

Zack looked over his shoulder, a smile clinging to his cheeks.

“You’ve gotta keep up, tiny.” He called back.

You didn’t appreciate the jokes about your height. Not everyone could be built like a bean pole. But, all the same, you ran to keep up with his quick pace as he slowed himself down so you could walk beside him.

He stuck a hand out and you took hold of it lacing your fingers between his. It was a comfort from the cold that had come on quickly this year. Frost was sparkling on the blades of grass in the sun, clouds forming just outside of both of your mouths with every breath. Zack turned to you, his face filled with affection and love, his nose a bright red to match the rosy shade of the outer edge of his ears.

You carried a wooden bucket in your hands, patiently waiting to fill it with shiny, fresh apples.

Zack always talked about how much he hated apple picking. He hated the apples that had already fallen on the ground and had been stepped on, he hated being outside in the cold, he hated the other people picking apples. And so you were confused when he agreed to come with you.

You didn’t even need to stand around convincing him.

“Do you want me to drive?” He had asked as you stood in front of where he sat on the couch.

And now here he was, blazing a trail into the orchard as you struggled to keep up with him. You tucked your hand, still woven together with his, into his jacket pocket. It was a tight squeeze but you were desperate for just a little more warmth.

“Here.” He laughed, handing you the gloves he had tucked into his back pocket.

You quickly slid them over your hands, relishing the comfort they brought you. Zack smiled as he watched you deeply inhale the crisp autumn air, an expression of extreme satisfaction spreading across your face.

“So, what do you want to do after this?” Zack asked.

You turned down the first lane of trees, immediately spying a perfect, low hanging apple.

“Well, we have to see the pumpkins.” You spoke slowly, intent on finding the next best apple while also keeping up with your long legged date.

“Right, but I mean after we’re done here.”

“I figured we’d just go home.”

“We have to go to the grocery store.”

You let out a loud, dissatisfied groan.

“I just want to go home.” You protested.

“I can go without you. I’ll drop you off.” Zack offered.

You struggled to grab an apple that was just a few branches out of reach as he spoke, his hands shoved in his pants pockets.

“No.” You muttered. “I’ll go with you.”

“You don’t have to. I’ll just bring you home and run back out.”

“It’s fine. I need some stuff anyways.” Your voice became somewhat strained as you stretched your arm out as far as possible, still without an apple to show for your efforts. “Damn it. Can you help?”

“Is somebody too small?” He asked, teasingly.

“Shut up.”

“Does someone need a hand?” He continued, laughter punctuating his words.

As he placed the apple in the wooden bucket you playfully punched his arm, trying to avoid laughing yourself.

“Ow!” He jumped back, dramatically cradling his bicep as though you had actually injured him. “There’s no need for that!”

“Don’t make fun of me!”

With a smile, Zack finished feigning injury and walked close to you, wrapping you up in a hug. His chin resting on your head.

“I’m sorry.” His tone became sugar sweet as he spoke into your hair. “How about this - c’mere.”

Slowly, he walked in front of you, took the barely full basket of apples from your hands, and knelt down. Before you knew it you were being lifted up into the air via Zack’s shoulders.

“This is way too high, Zack.” You yelped, clutching his body like it was the last lifeboat on the Titanic.

“You’re fine.” He chirped. “Enjoy your temporary moment as a normal sized person.”

It only took a few paces for you to settle in on your perch. You were comfortable on his shoulders and able to pick whatever apples you wanted. When you weren’t combing trees for the perfect piece of fruit, you were able to relax, running your fingers through Zack’s hair as you stared out over the heads of others.

He didn’t seem to mind that your shoes were resting against his sweater. He didn’t seem to mind that he had to carry the basket. He didn’t even seem to mind when you made him stop at every tree to inspect it.

He almost seemed to be… enjoying himself?

You decided you were going to believe that was the case.

When you couldn’t fit any more apples into the basket he placed the basket on the ground and lifted you off of his shoulders, placing you right by its side.

“Alright muscles, you’re carrying that to the till.” He spoke, his arms crossed.

You shrugged and hoisted it up into your arms. Confidently, you marched your way to the checkout line, not noticing the apples you lost on the way or how Zack diligently picked them up. When the price was announced you went to grab your pocket book from your purse only to get gently hip-checked by the gangly man standing next to you.

“You’re not paying.” Zack grumbled.

“I dragged you out here. It’s the least I could do.”

“The least you could do is get out of the way so I can give this fine cashier my money.”

You stared at him for a moment, not looking away until he looked over to you, a warm smile on his face.

He paid and walked you back to the car, opening the passenger side door for you and your bounty.

Getting into a car with Zack had originally been a death wish. He would make halting stops and he’d be damned if he was going to slow down when turning. But he was different now. He had become more careful as your shared years accumulated. When he drove, he kept a hand on your leg. He kept a car’s length of space between himself and the driver ahead of him. He drove slow and stopped when a squirrel looked like it might risk it all to get to the other side of the street.

You knew you would both get to your destination safely, not an apple out of place.

The grocery store was a quick and simple trip. He grabbed vegetables for dinner and you grabbed ingredients to make a pie crust. He pushed the cart and you hustled to keep up with him - same as always.

“You want me to put you in the front seat here?” He asked, gesturing to the children’s seat in the front of the cart.

You rolled your eyes and stifled a laugh.

“You know you’re not funny, right?” You retorted.

“Ah. You sure seem to think so.”

“Not a chance.”

But you did find him funny and the moment he wasn’t looking a broad grin would find its home on your face.

The clouds came out for the drive home, the skies turned gray and rain began pouring from the sky. You thanked your lucky stars that you had started on your way home when you did. Although you expected a comment about how if he had gotten stuck at the orchards in this weather he would’ve been so miserable, Zack never said a word.

He just turned the volume up when he heard a song you liked playing on the radio.

He even cracked a smile as he watched you sprint for the front door, growing increasingly waterlogged with every step.

He helped you out of your coat and put your shoes on the shoe rack. You carried the grocery bags into the kitchen.

“Here.” He spoke softly, wrapping a towel over your hair. He stood in front of you and tousled the soaking strands until they were at least slightly drier. “You’re like a dog at the groomers.”

You couldn’t help but double over. His voice had been so soft and so sweet and so focused on what he was doing that you hardly expected such a comment.

“I told you you think I’m funny.”

“Maybe a little.”

“I’ll take it.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

The evening was quiet. Zack made a stirfry and you tossed apples in spices and sugar while your pie crust baked in the oven. Occasionally, he’d abandon his work to wrap his arms around your waist and rest his head on your shoulder as you rolled your dough out. Occasionally, you’d abandon your work to steal a slice of pepper from the cutting board. He’d pretend to shoo you away, shaking his head the whole time and admonishing you for taking advantage of his “good nature”..

You didn’t find true stillness until he was done and dinner was complete.

You curled up on the couch, wrapped in a sweatshirt of his that you had pilfered from his closet five minutes after returning home, and a bowl of food in your hands. Zack collapsed beside you with a dramatic sigh, throwing an arm over his face.

“Agh!” He groaned, startling you with his volume. His voice softened as he peaked at you from under his arm. “You’ve run me ragged, you know.”

“We had a good day!” You protested.

“We did. But that doesn’t mean I”m not exhausted.”

“Well, you can go to bed early tonight.”

“I’m not sleeping until I’ve tried that pie.”

He gestured to the oven, the dessert visible from the distance through the little window.

“Thanks for coming with me today.” You finally murmured, playing with the tassels of the pillow below you.

Zack only shrugged. “It’s no problem.”

“I just didn’t think you liked going apple picking.” You continued.

“I don’t.”

The words hit you like a sack of bricks. You were lost. And Zack simply sat there, eating his food and watching the television as though he hadn’t just completely befuddled you.

“You don’t?” You asked.

“No. Hate it. It’s cold. There’s always too many people there. And the ground is gross. All those decaying apples. Eugh.” He feigned a shiver to drive his point home.

“I’m sorry.” You muttered, feeling bad. “I won’t make you do it in the future.”

Now it was Zack’s turn to be caught off guard. Quickly he turned to you, a sincere look of confusion written over his face.

“Wait, no.” He started. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I don’t want to make you do stuff you hate. I can go by myself next time.”

“No, you’re not understanding. I wanted to go with you today.”

“You just said you hated it.”

“And I do!”

Zack clearly couldn’t understand why you were feeling so confused by his words. He stared at you blankly for what felt like minutes until he shook his head, seemingly resetting himself.

“You don’t get it. I don’t like going. But its time I get to spend with you and that’s what matters. If you’re happy picking apples then I’m going to make sure you have a good time picking apples. It’s as simple as that.”

You played his words over and over in your head.

“Is it?” You asked.

“Yes!” He smiled, putting his food down so he could pull you close into a hug. “If it’s important to you, it’s important to me.”

His arms wrapped around your body, careful not to spill your bowl onto you. He peppered kisses over your head in an effusive display of affection that made you giggle. Once he slowed, he intertwined his hand with yours, moving his thumb in circular motions over his skin.

“Would you be saying all of this if we got stuck in the rain?” You asked, looking up at him.

“I would. I would’ve even offered you an umbrella from the car.” He spoke softly into the crown of your head. “You’d probably still get wet since you can’t ever seem to keep up with me but that’s another story.”

You rolled your eyes but nestled closer into his body, feeling warm and comfortable in his presence.

“Or maybe I’d hold it and you wouldn’t fit under it.” You teased.

“This theoretically implies that your short legs got you to the car first to grab said umbrella which is… unlikely.” He finished by looking you up and down.

You laughed but quickly covered your mouth to avoid Zack noticing.

He, of course, noticed, sitting back with a self-satisfied smirk.

He didn’t say anything more.

He didn’t have to and you didn’t need him to either.

You looked at him and he smiled. There were no accusations of whether or not you were amused. There were no more jokes about your height or lack thereof. There was nothing.

There was just Zack. And there was just you.

Through thick and thin. Rain or shine.

Apples or no apples.

#zack sabre jr #zack sabre jr fanfic #zack sabre jr fanfiction #njpw imagine #njpw fanfic #njpw fanfiction #local nuisance man has been on my mind a lot lately

45 notes · View notes

ahkaahshi · 4 years ago

Text

a parenting moment [miya atsumu x reader]

pairing: miya atsumu x fem reader

genre: fluff

warning(s): none

word count: 2.3k

overview: when yours and atsumu’s five-year-old daughter gets into trouble at school, it’s up to him to practice his good parenting skills

note: though this is a reader insert story, it focuses more on atsumu’s relationship with his daughter and sheds some light on how I think he would be as a dad :) also I wrote this months ago and am just now posting lol hope you enjoy

Atsumu’s features settle into a look of discontentment as his honey colored eyes scan his young daughter’s short figure, taking note of her dirtied shoes and the slightly disheveled appearance of the French braids he’d woven into her dark hair that morning. Wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead and letting out a small sigh, he asks, “What happened, girly?”

She turns her (e/c) gaze towards the polished wooden flooring of the large gym and mutters, “I got in a fight at school and they made Mommy pick me up.”

Instead of towering over her, as he had inadvertently been doing before, Atsumu kneels down in front of her and places his hand on her shoulder. “Hey, look at me, (daughter’s name),” he requests, making her tilt her chin up the smallest amount so her eyes can meet his. When their gazes connect, he purses his lips before saying, “We’ll talk about it when we get home, ‘kay? Right now, Daddy’s gotta practice, so jus’ sit tight with Coach Foster for a bit ‘n hang out.”

She nods slowly and Atsumu lifts her light blue backpack off of her shoulders to carry it with him over to the bench beside the court where his team is currently running through serve-receive drills. The head coach gives him a small nod of acknowledgement and a promise that he’ll protect her from any rogue volleyballs as she takes a seat.

Knowing that his daughter’s safety is in good hands and that she’s occupied--since she had pulled out a notebook from her backpack to doodle and write in--gives Atsumu a sliver of comfort as he returns to his practice. It takes himself some time to get his thoughts off of her, however, given the situation.

Minutes earlier, you had appeared at the gym with (daughter’s name) and offered a brief explanation of the matter at hand. You’d had to pick her up from school after receiving a call that she’d gotten into trouble, but, because of your own responsibilities at work, you’d had to drop her off with your husband. According to what the teachers had explained, she had gotten into a physical altercation with another student that had ended in tears, screaming, a few scrapes, and a dropped popsicle--your daughter’s, unfortunately.

(Daughter’s name) was a well-behaved, studious girl--though she did have a bit of a wild, energetic streak in her, thanks to Atsumu--so to hear that she’d been involved in a fight was understandably shocking to both of you. Sure, she enjoyed roughhousing with her dad and her uncle, but you’d been adamant about reiterating that real fighting was not allowed.

Atsumu hated seeing his daughter so distressed. It broke his heart. Usually, she was upbeat and full of life, but, now, she looks so defeated and ashamed. In an attempt to cheer her up in any way he can, he enlists the help of Bokuto and Hinata to tell her funny stories during each water break; and while they provide her some temporary relief, the cloud of sadness casting a shadow over her still lingers.

Though she holds onto his hand and clings to his side during the commute back home, she’s unnaturally quiet, and goes straight to her room upon returning to the house. He decides it best to leave her alone for a bit, but he can’t ignore how quiet the house feels without the sound of her favorite show blaring from the television in the living room. To busy himself for some time while you’re at work and she’s in her room, Atsumu sets himself to whipping up a snack after he’s taken a shower, and icing his aching joints.

After preparing some onigiri that looks rather sloppy compared to that his brother always serves, Atsumu shuffles down the hallway towards his daughter’s room. Her door is open, so he can see her sitting on her bed with a selection of colored pencils strewn across the comforter, and one in her hand that she’s using to color in a project she has to complete for class.

“Hey, girly,” he greets her and stands in the doorway, “Wanna eat some onigiri with me?”

She doesn’t respond verbally, but nods her head without lifting it to look over at him. So, he walks into her room and plops down on the bed beside her, setting the plate down in front of him. Before he can even get so far as to offer her one of his homemade creations, he hears her sniffle loudly.

Turning his honey-colored gaze to her brings him to the realization that she's stopped coloring and, instead, has her hands pressed against her face as her body shakes with quiet sobs. His paternal instincts to protect and comfort her immediately kick in, and he pushes the plate aside so he can sling an arm around her shoulder to pull her closer to him.

“Hey, hey, li’l princess, what’s goin’ on?” he murmurs.

She leans closer to him but keeps her hands over her face. “It wasn’t my fault, Daddy,” she whimpers softly, the sound of her strained voice nearly shattering her father’s heart, “There’s a really, really mean girl in my class. She always pulls my hair, a-and takes my markers, and cuts in line so she gets the last orange popsicle--and that’s my favorite flavor--and... I hate her!”

Atsumu grabs a tissue to dab at the tears spilling down her cheeks once he gently moves her hands away from her face. He’s silent for a moment as the previous sadness he felt at his daughter’s suffering morphs into anger upon hearing that she was being bullied. “Didja hit ‘er 'cause she was bein’ mean?”

She nods and cries, “S-She pushed me during recess ‘nd I got mad and pushed her back,” before finally lifting her head to gaze up at him with watery, (e/c) eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt her, Daddy! I-I was just scared she was gonna hurt me!”

Wrapping both of his arms around her small frame, Atsumu brings her face to his chest and holds her tightly in his embrace in an attempt to comfort her. “It’s alright, (daughter’s name). Mommy ‘nd I will make sure this gets fixed, ‘kay?” The grip she has on the back of his t-shirt tightens slightly as she presses her face into his shoulder. One of his hands rubs her back to calm her down while the other smooths down any stray hairs sticking up from her head.

After a few minutes of crying, whimpering, and venting, she’s finally relaxed enough to let her dad lead her into the living room so they can sit and watch a few episodes of her favorite show together while snacking on onigiri.

“Hey,” he calls out to her, making her tear her wide-eyed gaze away from the television screen, “I know me, Mommy, ‘n Uncle ‘Samu always say that fightin’ ain’t the right way ta go about things, but I’m proud of ya for stickin’ up for yourself, girly.”

A small smile sprouts across her lips that’s made even cuter by the fact that her cheeks are puffing out from the amount of rice she has in her mouth. The sight makes him chuckle and ruffle her hair.

“But don’t go tellin’ Mommy I said that. Instead, use yer words, find one of the teachers, ‘n let ‘em deal with whoever’s givin’ ya trouble, alright?”

When she’s finished chewing her food, she replies, “M’kay.”

“Mind tellin’ me what started the fight in the first place?” he asks, one of his thick eyebrows raising in curiosity.

She twiddles her thumbs and slowly directs her gaze back to the television. “She made me drop my popsicle when she pushed me.”

“And it was your favorite flavor, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah...”

With a hearty laugh, he comments, “Man, you really are yer mom’s daughter, ya know that? She don’t mess around when food’s involved.”

The sounds of his daughter's giggles ripple through the air, sending waves of warmth over him as he continues telling her stories about all the times he’d dealt with you getting on his case about food or treat-related issues. He made sure to include an anecdote about a time when you’d nearly knocked him over after he’d jokingly swiped your candy bar during lunch in high school.

Needless to say, he never did it again out of the fear that Osamu wouldn't let him live it down if he got destroyed by a high school girl over food. However, the passion and unrelenting desire he’d seen in your eyes that day had made him absolutely sure that you were the one for him.

By the time you step into the house a few hours later, your daughter--being the mature, young girl she was--has moved her schoolwork from her bedroom to the living room table to do her assignments while her dad snoozes on the couch. Upon noticing that she’s in a better mood than she had been when you’d dropped her off at the gym with Atsumu, your heart lifts slightly.

“Hey, honey,” you greet her as you slide off your shoes and set your purse down on a table in the entryway, “What’re you up to?”

She holds up a piece of paper with colored markings on it that vaguely resemble Atsumu’s tall figure holding what you assume to be a volleyball, along with a few, familiar faces in the background. “I have to draw a picture of what you and Daddy do at work to show my teacher.”

You smile at her and plant a kiss atop her head before commenting, “Looks good so far. You drew Bokuto-san’s hair perfectly.” She chuckles and quickly returns to her masterpiece, since your compliment seems to spur her to keep creating. “I’m gonna talk to Daddy, real quick, okay? I wanna see how you draw Omi-san’s hair when we’re done.”

With that said and your daughter on a mission to produce her version of the prickly, outside hitter on Atsumu’s team, you rouse your husband from his nap so the two of you can head into your room to talk about the situation. Once out of earshot, he explains what your daughter had told him and the two of you work together to devise a plan and time to speak with her teacher about the true story. Amazingly enough, this entire exchange occurrs without your usual, good-natured--but sometimes cumbersome--squabbling.

“Hey, ‘Tsumu,” you call out to him, reaching for his hand and wrapping your fingers around it gingerly.

He had been on his way to the bedroom door so he could head to the kitchen and start making dinner while you showered, but he stops in his tracks and turns to face you once more. When your eyes meet, your heart skips a beat, like always.

Taking a deep breath, you tell him, “Even though we may argue from time to time about parenting, and you sometimes let her have just a tad too much sugar before conveniently deciding to take a nap so you don’t have to deal with her going berserk, there's nobody else in the world that I’d rather share a kid with than you. She loves you so much, and so do I.”

His unoccupied hand finds your waist to pull you closer to him, and he leans down towards you to plant a gentle kiss on your lips. As per usual, the tender moment you shared doesn’t last long, since he always has something smart to say. “What’s gotcha all sentimental, (f/n)? Does seein’ me doin’ fatherly things give ya the hots for me, or somethin’?”

“Oh, yeah, sleeping on the couch while our self-starter of a child does homework by herself is so fatherly.”

He frowns. “I had a long practice. Bein’ a professional athlete is hard work, baby.”

With a sardonic smile on your face, you mention, “Working a nine-to-five is pretty tiring too, baby.”

“Fair,” he groans and slides his arms around your back, “But, seriously, what’s got you feelin’ all in love with me, huh?”

You snicker at his tone and the mischievous look on his face as you brush his golden hair away from his eyes before letting your hands come to rest on his cheeks. “It’s just that when I picked (daughter’s name) up from school today, she was all sad and mopey. Yet, when I come home after dropping her off with you, she’s all smiles and rainbows again. It just reminds me of how good you are to her and it makes me happy that she has you as a father.”

A genuine smile rather than a sly one appears on his lips, and you press your own against them to give him a few, affectionate kisses.

“You know I’d do anything for my favorite, li’l girl, (f/n). She’s only as good of a kid as she is 'cause of you, anyway.”

Your lips form a giddy grin, as if he’s a high school crush who’s just delivered the sweetest of compliments to you, and you allow him to pull you closer so he can shower you with more kisses. “I love you, baby,” you murmur as you plant another peck on his cheek.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

There’s a short moment of silence as he pulls you into a tight hug that seems to wash away all the stress that you didn't even realize had been building up within you at the day you’ve had. His breath fans across the tender skin of your neck when he nestles his face there and allows his hands to roam up and down your back. However, after the two of you release each other, you notice a sneaky smile playing at his lips that oftentimes makes you wary.

“Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“Wanna go see (daughter’s name)’s rendition of Omi-Omi?”

Chuckling and following him out of the bedroom, you agree, “Wouldn’t miss it.”

masterlist ⭐︎ treat me to a coffee!

taglists (see pinned post on my blog for form)

general: @krynnza, @yamagucji, @tendo-sxtori, @dinablossom, @newfriendjen, @devlovesramen, @ohbyunhunn, @aftcrlust, @mister-future, @kyleclxin, @kac-chowsballs, @osamusmiya, @nit-sir-hc, @arixtsukki, @shinsurou, @ichorizaki, @dominikmagnus

atsumu: @pretty-setters, @misora-msby, @why-aminot-dead, @lotsoffandomrecs, @tsumue, @heyhinata

#haikyuu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!!#hq!!#x reader #reader insert #anime #manga #miya atsumu #fran writes hq!!

495 notes · View notes