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tiredmamaissy · 2 years ago

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Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Chapter Four

An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's creator @zestys-stuff.

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)

Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, profanity, age gap, sexual tension, size difference/kink, praise kink, fingering, alcohol consumption/drunk character, mating, oral sex (both receiving), p in v, virginity loss, blood, marking/biting, let me know if i forgot anything?

Word Count: 15k (i think, i dont even know at this point)

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: Guys, I'm so sorry this one took so long. I hope it's worth the wait. I tried to proofread this but the app keeps crashing and I lost my progress thrice. So forgive me for any typos and errors. I'll probably go through it with fresh eyes tomorrow and fix them. Enjoy 🤍🤍

Synopsis: Your family seeks uturu with the Metkayina in the village of Awa’atlu. You have a difficult time adjusting, and are assigned your own special teacher, Ralak.

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“Not today, tahni. I must get you back, now.”

----

You protest, not wanting to go back to the prison with your less-than-understanding father and his two soldiers keeping an eye on your every move. You try to convince Ralak to have a conversation with your father, but he insists that won’t do anything. Jake is a man of action, and he would need to prove himself to Toruk Makto – prove that he is worthy of mating with his daughter.

To do things ‘the right way’.

All it took for you to behave was him grabbing your hand, pressing it against his warm, half-hard cock while he looks you dead in the eye.

“Tame Tsurak. And this is yours to do whatever you please with.”

“Oh?” Your lips pucker as you husk the word, brow raising in astonishment.

Of course, Ralak would turn this into a lesson of some sort, saying something along the lines of you being a fast learner and would only need a day to learn. It was laughable really – him saying that you need a week to learn the sign language of his people but less than a day to tame a skimwing.

He clicks for his swimwing, watching as it glides quickly through the water towards him. He takes a few steps back, making space for the large creature to come to a standstill. Ralak approaches it cautiously and respectfully, hand reaching behind him to grip and stroke the length of his kuru.

You’re only now just getting a good look at his kuru, it’s much longer than yours given the stature of this man. His tendrils are a deep pink, very composed and calm, much like Ralak himself. They dance slowly, sporadic movements gaining direction once they sense the kuru of the Tsurak in proximity.

“Bond carefully. Tsurak are not like ilu.” Ralak says, pupils constricting momentarily as the tendrils slowly entwine with one another, making tsaheylu with the scaley, large beast. It shivers vigorously as their breaths synchronize, two beasts becoming one. Ralak takes a sharp breath before swinging his leg over the creature, settling himself graciously on its back. “They deem if the rider is worthy.”

“Oh. I see...” You nod slowly, nerves fraying from the thought of not being worthy enough to tame one.

Ralak motions you to mount the Tsruak, patting it’s back behind him. “Come.” He holds your hand, helping you on before wrapping your arms around his waist. “Hold tight.”

With that, you’re off. The beast glides easily, and slowly through the water, never going underneath. Ralak spends the ride teaching you about the techniques to apply when bonding, mounting, and riding a skimwing. Even how to hold the harness properly, so you’re not pulled off by a water drag.

“Most important. When you dive back in, maintain a good position.” He rambles, demonstrating the diving movement with his hand, fingers pointing downwards.

You listen, but you’re focus is primarily on the way his waist feels in your arms. You savour the sensation, feelings of self-doubt making you think that this may be the last time you’ll touch Ralak in this way. You rest your face into the dip of his back, ear pressed into his skin as you listen to the thump of his heart.

The words echo in your head. “...to do whatever you please with.”

You could do this. You can do this. You’ll do it for him. For your mate.

Ralak slows to a halt a far distance away from your family marui pod, exchanging glares with your two older brothers. Though they were younger than Ralak, he still treats them as equals, respectfully signing ‘I see you’ to them both. Reluctantly, they return the gesture, maintaining their downward glare to the giant. Neteyam stands tall, chest puffed out to appear bigger, whilst Lo’ak’s arms are crossed over his chest, shifting his bodyweight from one leg to the other.

You scoff. Two idiots doing their idiot thing.

“We will meet again, my love.” You whisper, planting a kiss on his back before dismounting the creature to swim around to the mangrove roots.

“My tanhi.” He hums lowly, watching you swim away and climb up the root to the backside of the marui pod. He turns around, diving under the water to leave before your father’s arrival. Your brothers help you up, pushing you inside the pod by a hand on your back.

“You smell even worse.” Neteyam makes the snarky remark whilst grimacing, turning his head away from you.

“Yeah. He’s not joking, sis.” Lo’ak adds with a chuckle, leaning in to get a better whiff. He pulls back dramatically, letting out a loud ‘whoof’ as he turns his head away too.

��Ha-Ha.” You say, imitating the sound of a laugh. “Thanks guys.” You mutter sarcastically, although you really did owe them.

The sound of your father flipping back the flap of the marui averts your attention to the door. All three of you stand in formation, acknowledging the former marine’s presence. He walks past you, lips pursing into a thin line once your scent wafts past him.

“Jeez, y/n. Ya need to take a bath or something. Preferably before tomorrow ‘cause that’s when training with Tsireya starts.” He shifts his glare to his sons, patting them both on the back as he praises them for doing a good job watching you. Another scoff bubbles up your throat, prompting you to roll your eyes and find refuge behind your privacy curtain.

----

Swish. The sound of your privacy curtain being yanked aside, allowing slivers of the first rays of sunlight to shine against your cheek.

“Get up, kid. Time for your lesson with Tsireya.” Jake’s voice beats against your eardrums.

Are you fucking kidding me?

Never have you had a lesson this early. Nor have you had someone wake you up for one. And how many times did you have to speak to your father about privacy? That’s why you sat down for a week straight making these curtains. And by the way everyone keeps yanking and tugging at it, you’ll have to make another sooner than planned. You lift your head groggily, rubbing your right eye with the ball of your palm. Groans of irritation rumble up your throat as you roll over onto your side to ignore your father.

“Hey. Don’t make me come over there.” He jesters, hoping to lighten the mood.

It only makes things worse. How could he joke after locking you away and having his two watchdogs guard over you? He’s taking away the one good thing for you in this wet-land and thinks a joke will make things better?

“Leave. I’ll come out soon.” You mumble into your pillow.

Jakes brows lower in defiance for a moment, and relax when he realises that you’re just hurting. Regardless, this is what he thinks is best for you. You were still his ‘babygirl’. He takes a few steps back before turning around to walk out of the marui. Once you hear his footsteps die out, you rise from your cot and get ready for the day.

----

“Wow, y/n. You have improved so much since I last taught you!” Tsireya exclaims, surprised by your skilful movements.

“Yeah. Ralak was a good teacher.” You smile, tugging the fishnet towards you. Your lips flatten into a line when you realise how that sounds. “Not saying that you weren’t or anything.” You add quickly, staring wide eyed at Tsireya.

“It is okay.” She giggles, two dainty fingers covering her lips.

“Yeah. There’s just something about him. He’s… different.” You smile once more, slowly wrapping the fishnet around on itself, “A good different!”

“I know Ralak, y/n. He is... like a brother to me. Although we don’t talk very much...” Tsireya says, swimming towards the spears on the shore. “I am surprised you two got along for this long.”

Your brows twitch. Brother? What did she mean by that? What does she think even happened?

“I’m going to mate with him.” You blurt out, earning an astonished expression from Tsireya. “When I pass my iknimaya, of course.” You say, knowing that’s not what she’s concerned about.

“You two got along that well?” She questions, reaching for the spears.

“You could say that we confessed to each other in the heat of the moment” You mumble as you work your way to sit on the shore.

“So, why am I teaching you?” Her movements come to halt, inquisitive gaze flicking down at you.

“Dad found out. He is forbidding me from seeing him because I haven’t passed my iknimaya yet.” You twirl a strand of wet loose hair around your pointer finger, “He didn’t even care to ask about the situation. Or if I even need lessons anymore.” You shake your head, watching the hair unravel from your finger.

“I see. I think you two would be good for each other.” She shrugs, staring at the spears for a moment before throwing them back into the sand. She looks at you and smiles, “Has he taught you about our dances?”

Gaze snapping up to hers, a smile stretches your lips as your brows raise in fascination. “Dances?”

Tsireya offers her hand, and you take it, letting her help you up. “Mhm. Our way of dancing. It is very... sensual. It is said that eywa speaks through the soundwaves of the music.” She walks you over to a clearing near the shore.

Apparently, the musical instruments are sacred, some parts of it harvested from the spirit tree. And when they are played, the way of Eywa can be felt by those that listen, expressed in bodily movement – dancing. It’s movements manifest erotically, acting as a mating ritual.

It draws in the fated or desired mates of those that partake in the ritual, driving them to find one another and dance together.

“Teach me.”

----

The days go by slowly as Tsireya shows you the sinuous movements of the Metkayina. She explains that it is much like the way of water, gliding and flowing freely with the music. One must allow the music to flow through the body in waves, to slip into a trance like state for your body to sway with the rhythm.

It takes you about a week to learn all the movements. It posed to be an even more difficult task without the music, and just Tsireya’s humming. Of course, this music is only only played on the night of an iknimaya celebration.

Tomorrow is your iknimaya, and Tsireya decides it’s best to run through a few pointers on taming a tsurak. Taming one is not something you practice doing, not like an ilu. You attempt it, and if denied, it is because you have much more to learn. You may try again after further training.

“Your grip is the most important thing. Once it loosens, it is ove –”

“Girls.” The olo’eyktan’s voice booms above you, averting your attention to the three casted shadows on the shore. Your eyes trail up the silhouettes to see Tonowari, your father, and... Ralak. Your heartbeat quickens, body heating up from sensing its desired mate in proximity. You try to play it off, looking down at your knees buried in the sand.

“Father.” Tsireya shuffles to her feet, signing ‘I see you’ to the three men, acknowledging their presence.

You follow slowly after her, eyes now locked onto your feet. “I see you.” You gesture, finally lifting your gaze up to the three men.

Ralak’s brows twitch as his cold eyes trail up your body, doing their best mask his excitement from seeing you. You look beautiful – dressed in clothing native to his people, pearls embellishing your top and a string of shells sewn to the band of your tewng [loincloth]. Braided hair with bright red flowers twisted into it, his chest tightens from seeing you like this.

This is the first time you’ve seen him in a week. He looks... dishevelled. Nothing like he usually looks. Hollow eyes, body enveloped with bruises and scabbed over wounds, you can sense the fracture in his spirit. He looks so, so worn. A heated wrath simmers your blood, making you red in the face.

What have they done to you, my love? You ask him through concerned eyes, breaking your stare to seethe at Tonowari.

Jake could see the upset on your face, lips pursing into a thin line as he squints his eyes, telling you to drop the attitude. But you were vexed with him too. Did he really think you’d be an obedient little soldier? You scoff at the thought, rolling your eyes to land them back onto Ralak, who is also giving you a look.

Now that’s different.

All it takes is a quick raise of his brows and a slight shake of his head to quell your attitude. You huff a small sigh of defeat and drop your irate stare to your feet once more, holding your tongue. You wanted nothing more than to lash out at Tonowari, despite him being the olo’eytan. But you understand that this would only make matters worse.

Jake witnesses this, feeling a little embarrassed about your blatant disregard for his order and not Ralak’s. But he can’t ignore the smidge of respect he’s feeling towards him right now. To be able to handle your rebellious attitude with a simple shake of his head is impressive.

“Iknimaya is tomorrow.” Tonowari speaks, eyes drifting towards the discarded spears.

He’s clearly speaking to you, but you’re too caught up in your own head to even hear him.

“Yes, father. I am confident that she is ready.” Tsireya answers quickly, using her tail to nudge the back of your leg.

“Yes – yes sir. Your daughter taught me well.” You say a little too composed, avoiding eye contact all together.

“Good. We will be on our way then.” Tonowari nods, turning his heel to leave.

Jake follows behind him, throwing one last glare in your direction, whilst Ralak lingers for a second or two. He does one last scan of your body, before locking eyes with you. A soft smile pulls at his lips as he slowly retreats.

It’s like all the negativity bubbling in your being washes away in an instant, leaving you standing there with a dumb smile on your face. He spins around, walking nonchalantly behind the two olo’eyktans, arms tucked behind his back.

“Did he just – smile?” Tsireya asks, a little dumbfounded.

“Mhm.” You hum, smile only growing wider.

----

That night you walked home beaming, smile plastered on your face with your ears flickering wildly. It had been so long since you’d last seen him that it was so uplifting to see that sweet, sweet smile again. You haven’t felt this happy since Jake separated you two, and honestly you couldn’t bring yourself to go home and see him.

Despite your strict curfew, you find yourself alone sitting in the wet sand, watching the sun set, bright hues of red and orange lighting up the sky. You bring your knees to your chest and rest your cheek between them, thinking about tomorrow.

What if I can’t do it? You sigh, feelings of self-doubt crashing in like the waves at your feet.

“Y/n.” Jake’s voice booms behind you.

Of-fucking-course you’re going to come find me.

“What?” You mumble into your knees.

Jake’s purses his lips before letting out a small sigh, shoulders relaxing as he seats himself beside you. “Feelin’ ready for tomorrow? Not nervous, are ya?”

“Ha. Yeah. I had the best teacher in Awa’atlu.”

“Babygirl.” His voice softens as he tries to look you directly in the face. The fact that it’s been over a week, and you’re still upset tells him that he’s really hurt you.

“Not your baby anymore.” You mutter under your breath, turning your head to look the other way.

“Yes, you are... ‘nd you always will be. Even when you have your own.” He speaks gently, resting his hand on your upper back.

You shrug him off, causing his hand to retreat entirely. He reflects for a moment, on how his actions have made you feel. Has he been too harsh on you? Was the ‘tough love’ act too much? The rift that’s he’s driven between the two of you is just too thick and he must remedy it.

“Look. I’m – I’m just tryna look out for you.”

“Excuse me?” You lift your head up and look at him with an expression of disbelief. "Look out for me? Or coddle me? Cut the shit, dad. I know you’re trying to keep me from him.”

"Language!" Jake hisses, “And I am looking out for you, whether you wanna believe it or not.”

“So what? How far are you gonna go to keep me from him? Gonna make us move again? Fresh start, somewhere else?”

Jakes voice is low now, a dangerous growl as he grows frustrated with your venomous words. “Everything I do is to protect you kids. Your safety is everything to me, y/n. I just want what’s best for you.”

"Ralak is what is best for me. He's good to me. Patient with me." You croak, lump forming in your throat. "And - I love him, dad."

Jake quickly stands, letting out a scoff. "No. You don't. You barely know the guy!”

"I do. I know him more than anybody. He's a gentleman–”

“Y/n” He starts, “We’ve only been here for a few months. He’s your teacher. There’s plenty of fish in the sea. Why are you settling for the first one you meet?”

“Dad, just – stop! He’s a good person. And when I tame tsurak tomorrow... I will choose him.” Your voice fades away as you utter the last four words, heated tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Yeah. If you tame it. I didn’t even tame it myself the first try. You really think you can?” Jake spits, growing frustrated with your defiant attitude.

Ouch. You didn’t even have the words to respond to that. Your own father taking a jab at your competency, knowing it’s one of your biggest insecurities. And to instil is own personal doubt into you is on another level of petty.

And just like that, the rift grows wider.

Your bottom lip quivers, revealing the small dimples in your chin. You stare up at him glossy eyed, tears welling up so much you could almost see the way it makes your eyes glisten. His gaze softens, as if he were just hit square in the jaw with words he just uttered to you.

“Y/n, I’m s –”

You shake your head in disbelief, brows gathering so tightly it hurt. You walk past him, shoving him with your shoulder as you make your way towards your marui. You can hear him calling after you, hollering whatever things first popped up in his head that could possibly make it right.

“Babygirl, please! You know I didn’t mean it like that. Just try to see where I’m coming from!”

But you ignore him and keep it going. Slumping into your bed, you lay your head on your pillow and close your swollen, wet eyes in hopes to get some rest for your big day tomorrow. The day that would change it all.

The day of your iknimaya.

----

It wasn’t only your iknimaya today.

Much like when you tamed your ikran, you stand in a line of other younger na’vi, who have been waiting patiently for their chance to prove themselves. Eager and excited to earn their place in the clan and mate with another.

They all speak amongst themselves, whispering harshly and huddling together to hear one another. They’re discussing pointers, reviewing techniques, and sharing tips they’ve learned from the more experienced warriors. It’s a bit annoying, in all honestly. They all seemed to have a completely different motive from you. An intrinsic one.

Whereas your motivation is standing in waist deep in the water, effortlessly holding the thrashing, winged beast in place. His hands grip the harness tightly, whilst Tonowari and another warrior secures the mid and hind section of the skimwing.

You watch as the other young na’vi attempt to tame the tsurak before you. Some pass, some fail, tsurak swimming with such force that it leaves the rider disoriented. Some even begged for another chance, while others accepted their defeat with a tail between their legs.

It makes you nervous. And the more you stand and stare at the thick skinned creature, the more is registers how big it actually is. It’s enormous – the length of six na’vi. Yet Ralak holds it down firmly, arms growing veiny from the sheer grip he has on it. It writhes beneath him, prompting him to restrain the beast even further.

You’d never seen Ralak ‘in action’ before. To you, he’s this big, soft giant, patiently tolerating your less than composed attitude. A man with simple goals, and simple desires. Not this strong, war machine he has been turned into. But you can’t ignore how seeing him like this makes you feel.

A strong and competent man.

But the more the creature thrashes around in his grip, the more your shot nerves fray. Just as you feel the nerves creep their way up into your chest, tightening it with no mercy, Ralak locks eyes with you. A stoic expression, with eyes that said so much. Ocean blue eyes, telling you ‘I’m right here. You can do it. Do it for me. For my big coc-’.

“You got this, kid. I mean – y/n.” Jake’s sudden voice interrupts your... train of thought.

If you hadn’t just been eye-fucking the man he’s keeping you away from you would’ve probably warmed up to his... attempt to make things right.

You let out a loud scoff and roll your eyes before diving into the water. Your fingers pierce the surface of the water, slender body moving through the water quickly and making the lap in one breath.

Turning your head, you quickly realise why they had you so far up in the mangroves. It was a test. A breath test. But what confirmed your suspicion is the look at your fathers’ face. An expression of surprise – shocked to see you even swim much less hold your breath for the entire lap.

Did he really have that little faith in you? You shake your head in disbelief, landing your stare on the spectators – the olo’eyktans’ family and other superior hunters and warriors. All of which stood high up in the mangroves, observing your every move.

How intimidating.

You exhale slowly, hoping to steady your galloping heart, but your efforts are to no avail. It feels as if its leaping from your chest the more you near the writhing, restless beast. And the closer you get, the louder its low, deep rumbling grows.

You’re about chest-deep in the water now, bouncing on the tips of toes as you inch closer and get a better look. You scan its entire body, starting at the white caudal fin, up to its furled wings and long snout – which houses at least a hundred jutting-out, needlelike teeth. Overall, its menacing demeanour makes your stomach sink.

Shit. Can I really do this? You think, shaky hand reaching behind you for your kuru as you continue to study the beast’s tough exterior.

“Y/n.” Tonowari saying your name snaps your eyes up to him smiling down at you. “Make the bond.” He gestures over to Ralak, who’s holding tsurak’s kuru in one hand, and the harness in the other.

He can tell from your body language and the glint in your eye that you’re nervous and having doubts. It’s the way you gnaw at your bottom lip, just like you did whenever you were getting frustrated during your lessons.

You settle yourself beside him, feeling his warmth radiate off his body onto yours. It’s been so long since you’ve been this close to each other. You’re not even touching, yet it feels so good. So right. You allow yourself to sway with the current of the water so that your shoulder brushes against his arm, sending your freckles flickering in broad daylight.

His chin remains tucked into his chest, arm extended towards you with the beasts’ kuru in hand. “Remember what I said.” He mutters under his breath, low enough for only you to hear.

You glance up at him briefly, trying your best to recall what he’s said to you about tsuraks. Your brows pinch in ponder as your pink tendrils dance wildly when they near the creature’s kuru. Was it something about the bond? Or was it how to grip the harness?

Ralak leans in, pretending to bring the kuru closer to your short stature. “yours to do whatever you please with.”

Oh. That.

You recall when he pressed your hand against his half-hard cock and told you it was all yours if you tamed tsurak. Just thinking about how warm it felt in your hand ebbs away the fear you’ve harboured in your chest, replacing it with a new feeling of determination.

Trying to withhold the smile creeping up on your face, you watch as your tendrils intertwine with the tsuraks’, kurus bonding together with a quick pull. A shiver runs through the creature as it snarls and growls, and your pupils dilate and constrict, breath hiccupping as you sync together.

You can feel it’s strength – it’s prowess. The way it breathes under and out of water. The way its left wing is injured from the na’vi that kicked it when tumbling off. The frustration brewing in its stomach. The exhaustion he’s feeling.

Instinctually, your hand caresses the length of his slippery snout, razor sharp teeth grazing your darker blue skin. “tam tam, tam tam [calm; there there]” You coo quietly, sliding your hand up his snout to grip the harness tightly. To your surprise, he settles immediately, sensing your empathy towards his state.

A sense of mutual respect.

Taking this as your signal to mount him, you hoist yourself up onto his back, being extra careful not to touch his wing. You find yourself struggling, being so far out at this height was only another obstacle in your way. Without warning the tsurak sinks into the water, lowering itself for you to haul your leg over its back.

“Irayo [thank you].” You whisper through a smile, settling yourself comfortably on the woven saddle.

Finally lifting your head up, you’re met with the stare of two surprised men, and one proud man. Ralak has this smug look on his face, like he knew all along that you would be able to make the bond in this way. And that – that’s just what you needed.

The three men let go of the beast, backing away with their hands in the air, allowing you space to ride. You tighten your grip one last time – something you recall being the most important thing, and think, go.

The tsurak takes off at full speed, caudal fin swishing from side to side, providing thrust to propel you forward. The sheer force of his jerky movements has your grip loosening already, audible swoosh of his tail growing louder the more wobble side to side.

Easy. Easy.

He steadies instantly, providing you with enough time to tighten your grip and position yourself properly on his back. You’re mindful of his injured wing, grounding the heel of your non-dominant foot beside his good wing. With your other leg, you settle your knee into his back, finding balance in your own body.

The shimmying comes to a halt, leaving you gliding effortlessly through the water, swoosh of his tail steady and low. You pull up, prompting his wings to splay out, revealing their vibrant red and orange colours. Soon the whoosh of his flapping wings drowns out the noise of his caudal fin propelling you upwards and out the water.

“There you go.” You think out loud, steadying yourself mid-air.

It’s an exhilarating feeling. The cool wind in your face and the way the sun rays heat up your skin. It almost feels like your ikran. A big smile spreads across your lips as you give his gill a gentle, reassuring tap. That’s when you feel the dull ache in your left shoulder worsen.

“Tam, tam. [there, there]” You repeat, recognizing his pain. That’s your cue to prepare yourself for the hardest part – the dive. This is the part which typically ends with the force of such a plunge knocking the na’vi off it’s back. The true test.

With a quick, deep breath, you tighten your grip around the harness one last time and dive onto your stomach, hugging his lower back with your knees. You tuck your chin to your chest and brace yourself for impact. The tsurak tucks his wings flush to his sides and plunges in, long snout piercing the water’s surface with ease.

The force of the plunge is indescribable. It’s almost like the feeling you get when you plummet down the hallelujah mountains on your ikran. But more intense. The water adds extra resistance, knocking you back to the point of your knuckles almost dislocating.

Despite that, your grip remains strong as you hurtle through the water, tilting to the side to avoid the reef. The slight sting of your lungs act as your cue to make a sharp turn and head back. You ascend slowly as you dart through the water, resurfacing completely before the three men.

You let out the breath you’ve been holding with an audible haa as you bring the beast to a halt. You wipe the water from your face and try to catch your breath, looking up to see Ralak with one of the biggest smiles on his face – the first of its kind. And you couldn’t quite tell if the shock plastered on the other mens’ faces are for you or for him.

You return the smile as you gently pull away your kuru from the tsuraks’ and dismount him. “He is weary. And injured. Left wing.” You pant, meeting eyes with the giant beaming with pride. “Let him rest, Lak.”

“Ah.” He chuckles breathily, using his tail to caress the back of your leg. “I will be sure to do that, my Tsurak Makto.”

Cheeks heating up to a dangerous degree, you avert your gaze elsewhere, only for it to land on the Olo’eyktan himself. He, too, is smiling wide, moving towards you with an extended arm. You link arms, slender fingers wrapping around his strake.

“You are Metkayina now, y/n. Soleia [congrats; you did it]” Tonowari declares.

“Thank you, sir. And your daughter –”

“While I am sure she has taught you well, Ralak is the one to thank here.” He rests a firm hand on Ralak’s shoulder.

You look over into the mangroves and see your father with his arms crossed over his chest, nodding and smiling. He’s impressed, to say the least. But not only with you and the way you absolutely mastered the taming of the skimwing, but also with Ralak – who is clearly to thank for that.

----

With night being only a blink away, things move quickly. Na’vi men and women rush to begin the preparations for the iknimaya celebration on the open, sandy area on the beach. They haul in large, tightly strung instruments, scrupulously carved flutes, drums made from animal skin, and horns made from bone, setting them up on the large, flattened rocks.

The clans’ best singers apply various colours of tsamopin [warpaint] to their skin, accentuating their features, while the elder, wiser na’vi prepare the native dishes for the feast. Fruits, vegetables, grains, and meat are cooked to perfection and spread carefully for everyone to have a taste. Bottles of fermented fruit garnish the spread. Others hurry to ornament the space with harvested bioluminescent flora from inland, and light the bon fire.

Tsireya approaches you with a full, large basket tucked on her hip. She smiles as she places her free hand on your back, guiding you and the small group of four other na’vi who passed their iknimaya to a secluded marui. Propping the basket between two jutting mangrove roots, she retrieves a handful of different coloured beads and shells.

As tsakarem [Tsahik in training], it is Tsireya’s duty to seal the iknimaya by rewarding those who passed with a few artefacts to signify their adulthood. “For your songchord.” She speaks, distributing the beads among the five of you before fetching the special pieces of clothing.

“You have all passed your iknimaya.” She speaks softly, distributing the clothing to the others. “Soleia! [congrats; you met the challenge] You may all receive your inking at the ftxozä [celebration]”

She comes to you last, carefully handing you a woven palm leaf. “I am proud of you, y/n.” She whispers, watching as you quickly open the woven packet, revealing your first Metkayinan article of clothing. Your eyes widen as you hold it in front of them.

Seven warbonnet fern leaves stained in crimson coloured ink, strung tightly together with fishing line. It’s beautiful. The leaves are long and pointed, meticulously placed to provide enough coverage for your chest. You rest it against your chest, raising your brows at Tsireya for her opinion.

She clicks her tongue, hand flying to grip her chin as she ‘thinks’. “Hm... He’s definitely going to rip that off of you.” She teases, fingers covering her mouth to hide her giggle. You laugh, probably a little too loudly given the four pairs of eyes staring at you both.

“The sun is setting, everyone! Get ready, wear your pen [clothing] with pride, look your best, and most of all, have fun!” Tsireya shouts happily, gesturing with her hand for them to hurry.

Everyone rushes to get ready, slipping in their pen and putting on their best face. You observe their hasty, excited movements, when the last rays of sunlight avert your stare to the horizon. You catch sight of the sunset, something you rarely got to see back home. The big, blood orange orb sinks beneath the horizon, turning the water a hue of orange.

Your gaze follows the ginger ripples of the water up to the beach, where you’re met with the sight of a blazing bonfire, flames growing as tall as some palm trees. A breath-taking sight. The skilled pamtseotu [musicians] work at their instruments, nimble fingers plucking the taut strings, and the wax coated bones beating away at the drums.

You admire the glow of the people as they enjoy themselves. Two elderly women trying to hear each other over the loud da-dum of the drums. A few young adults having their first sips of pxir [beer; liquor]. Parents with their sleeping babies strapped to their backs sharing a dance under the moonlight. Ao’nung and Rotxo eating as much as their cheeks can hold. Ralak – oh.

Ralak talking to your father.

----

Ralak’s POV (starting from iknimaya)

“While I am sure she has taught you well, Ralak is the one to thank here.” He rests a firm hand on Ralak’s shoulder.

Ralak remains silent, yet his mind is loud. He has so much to do – so much on his plate. But all he can think about is you. How you bring light to his small, dim world. How your presence alone uplifts the weight on his shoulders. And oh, how the past few weeks have been tortuous for him.

Tonowari, the man that took him in after the passing of his parents, had him hard at work since you weren’t allowed to see him anymore. Tonowari isn’t oblivious to what’s going on. He can tell the situation for what it is, but out of respect for Jake he made the arrangements for Tsireya to teach you instead.

Ralak has been waiting for the right time to speak with Tonowari about the matter. The matter of asking for your hand. Although he wasn’t necessarily asking Tonowari for permission for your hand, but more so permission for himself. Permission to dedicate his time to his mate, his family – to his dream, mundane life.

He watches you swim back to the mangroves, and with an injured tsurak there’s a bit of time between you and the next contender. Tonowari instructs for the other warrior to tend to the tsurak, and for a moment, it’s just Tonowari and Ralak.

The two giants exchange glances, standing in silence as one waits for the other to speak. Ralak knows it’s the perfect time to do it. You’ve just passed your iknimaya and they’re alone and far from any company.

“Sir.” Tonowari turns to face Ralak, knowing what’s coming next. Ralak slowly raises his head, tilting it to return the gaze. “I want to mate with her.” He speaks assertively, showing his seriousness through a stern gaze.

Tonowari nods a few times, breaking eye contact as he momentarily drops his head. He knows what this means – what he’s truly asking for. Freedom. Less duties. More time put into building the family he’s always wanted. To rediscover his days as a fisherman. To live his simple life.

Tonowari looks at Ralak, hand swiftly moving to firmly grip his shoulder and give it a squeeze. “You have my blessing, son.” Ralak smiles, using his free hand to clasp Tonowari’s. “But you must speak with Toruk Makto first.” Tonowari booms with laughter, pulling his hand off Ralak’s shoulder.

Although Ralak is almost as much as a giant as his mentor, he found Jake to be intimidating. He has extreme respect for Jake, admiring how family oriented he is. Which is why he wants to do it right. “I will. Tonight.”

Ralak hauls in a lengthy, wooden table, plopping it down in the open, sandy area. An elderly woman approaches him, thanking him with a gentle hand to his back and a gummy smile. Her free hand holds a bowl containing a mixture of diced fruits. He quickly takes it from her, placing it carefully in the centre of the table.

“Allow me. You rest.” He says with a thick accent, linking arms with her to walk her back over to the seating area.

“Tak. Always such a kind boy.” She whispers softly, patting his hand before letting go and taking a seat.

Jake and Neytiri are assisting with the seating area, rearranging the order of things. Ralak gestures a respectful greeting to them both, bowing his head before the former Olo’eyktan. Neytiri gives him a warm smile, acknowledging his kind gesture towards the elder.

She has always disagreed with Jakes decision to separate you two, insisting that he is too harsh on you and that you have already passed your iknimaya back home. She had taken a liking to Ralak since the day you rode an ilu after only a week of lessons.

“Sir. May I speak with you?” Ralak asks politely.

Jake lets out a hesitant sigh, looking at his mate who’s shooting him a deathly glare. He purses his lips into a thin line and gives Ralak a firm nod, gesturing with his hand that they go somewhere more private to talk. He follows Jake willingly, walking with him to the shoreline.

They stand in silence for a moment, much like he did with Tonowari earlier. Ralak takes a deep breath, preparing himself for the worst. He turns to look Toruk Makto dead in the eye, mask of indifference fixed tightly to his face.

“I would like to apologize for the way things turned out. It was never my intention.” Ralak speaks, holding eye contact with the great warrior – who is visibly biting his tongue for the sake of not being strangled by his own wife. “Your daughter. She is truly the best thing that has happened to me. Kind. Caring. Understanding. Yes, she has her moments.” Ralak widens his eyes, quirking his brows before smirking a little. “But I love those too.”

“Uh-huh.” Jake gives him a small nod, doing a ‘come on’ motion with his hand, implying he should get to the point.

A little intimidated, Ralak averts his gaze to his feet and speaks quickly and confidently. “I want to provide for her. Protect her. With my life. I will give her anything she desires. Everything she needs. I will give her a good life.” Ralak’s eyes snap up to meet Jake’s. “But only with your permission, sir.”

“You gonna look me in the eye this time and make that promise?” Jake raises his brows, wrinkling his forehead.

Ralak clears his throat, straightening his shoulders to stand at full height, towering over Jake. “I love her. I will take care of her. Give her everything. If you’ll allow it.”

There’s a moment of silence – other than the increasingly loud thump of the drums – where Jake and Ralak stand face to face. Jake process all what Ralak has said. He’s never heard so many words fall from this man’s mouth before. Jake’s shoulders drop as he heaves a sigh, perked ears now relaxing against his skull. Hands flying to his hips, he looks away briefly before looking back at Ralak.

“She’s my babygirl. You know that, right?” Jake growls through gritted teeth.

“Yes, sir.” Ralak is quick to answer.

“I swear, if you let anything – and I mean anything happen to my babygirl...” Jake’s voice his dark and gruff, laced with uncertainty.

“Understood. And, agreed. If anything happens to her, you have every right.” Ralak assures the former Olo’eyktan, grimacing at the mere thought.

“Right. Then you have my permission, Ralak.” Jake nods, extending his arm to the taller na’vi. Ralaks ears bolt upright, overjoyed to hear the words. They join arms with an audible smack, sealing the deal with a firm shake. “Go on. Go find her.” Jake nudges over to the mangroves with his chin, “Before I change my mind.” Ralak bows his head slightly and parts ways to look for you.

---- End of Ralak’s POV

Shit, I should go. You think, turning on your heels to go find Ralak. By the time you’ve turned around, everyone is gone except for Tsireya.

“Come, let’s get you ready.” Tsireya grins wide, slowly creeping towards you with her handmade palette of colours.

You pull your head back, a downturned smile spreading across your face. “Where are you putting that? What is that?”

“Just a little something for your cheeks, come on.” She smiles even wider, dipping her finger into the creamy concoction.

“Eh. Not my thing.” You pull your head back even more.

“Ralak will like it.” She sings, wiggling her pink stained finger in the air.

You let out a small sigh of defeat and lean forward. “Fine. Only a little, okay?”

“Mhm!” Tsireya squeals, beaming with delight as he smears the creamy mixture on the apples of your cheeks. “There. And a little for your lips, too.” She says, quickly swiping it on your lips before you can refuse.

You grunt in response, popping your lips to distribute it evenly. “Well. How do I look?”

“Sevin [pretty], and you’ll look even better when you put that on.” She stares at the crimson strained top in your hands.

You slip into your top, fixing the leaves into position to cover your nipples, and do a twirl for the chief’s daughter. “Well?” You ask with open hands.

You didn’t think that cheeky grin could grow much wider, but it does. A grin so wide that it’s ear to ear.“Fyole [perfect]. Now let’s go get your mate.”

Maybe her giddiness is just catching, but hearing one of the most beautiful girls in the village call you fyole makes you grin too. She tugs at your arm, urging you to follow her down the webbed pathway towards the sandy area.

As you both make your way down to the beach, the faint whoof of the drums deepen in bass, and the plunk of the stringed instruments grows higher. And soon you can make out the song that’s playing. It’s the same song that Tsireya has been trying to hum to you for the past week. You keep your chin tucked to your chest, gaze locked to your feet as you follow behind Tsireya.

Once you see the silky sand spill through the cracks of your toes, you look up to see that you’re both standing at the edge of the crowd. People are packed tightly together, sweaty bodies pressed firmly against each other as they move to the beat.

The ambiance is electric, you can practically see it jolt through the crowd. Different colours glow around the moving bodies, it reminds you of your dream hunt.

Tsireya grabs a hold of your hand, squeezing it tightly to bring you out of your deep thought. “Remember what I taught you, yes?” You stare at her wide-eyed, knowing what she’s going to tell you next. “Dance with me, vultsyìp [stick].” She sings the last word teasingly, tugging you into the crowd behind her.

As much as you loved the music, you’re focused on Ralak. You want to find him, be with him. You look around as you both weave through the crowd, bumping into people having a good time, drinking, and dancing. You swear you see a few people laying in the sand on top of one another, bent into positions you’ve never seen before.

Tsireya can sense that you’re a little anxious. Perhaps you feel out of place, or maybe you’re just a little stunned by the way of her – your people dance. She looks back on you and gives you a reassuring smile, squeezing your hand tighter as she burrows you both through the dancing crowd.

Finally coming to a more spacious area, she wraps her arms around your waist and pulls you in close. You slump into her, chin resting on her shoulder. Her lips brush against the shell of your ear. “Let him come to you.”

You pull back, looking around to see if he’s anywhere nearby before leaning back in to speak into her ear. “How will he know where to find me?”

Tsireya laughs, lifting a hand from your waist to tap her flat nose a few times, signing ‘smell’.

You nod slowly, trusting her word, despite you being in a large crowd that reeks of pxir[liquor], and – sex. You take a deep breath, smelling an array of scents all mixed, and overlapping one another. It’s almost overwhelming, leaving you feeling all hazy and dazed.

“Now dance with me!” She shouts over the boom of the music, sliding her hands down your waist to grip your hips. A giggle bubbles up your throat, the aphrodisiac properties of the music now taking affect. It sets a fire in your body, heating you up from the inside out and making your hips move in her grip.

It’s a little frightening, feeling your body move on its own, much like it did during your first heat. You try to fight it a little, feeling a little timid from how the music is affecting you in this way. But you recall Tsireya explaining to you that it’s something to do with ‘the way of Eywa permeating through the music’ – or something.

Tsireya realizes that your movements are bit rigid and broken, plagued with uncertainty. “Let go. Feel the music.” She urges you, guiding your hips in the direction of her motions. You allow yourself to let go, closing your eyes to immerse yourself in the trance of the music, moving freely to the rhythm.

With each beat of the drum comes a quick roll of your waist. And soon you’re dancing on her, vibrations of the instruments rippling through you. It comes naturally, body moving in a sinuous manner against hers. At the same time, it’s such a foreign feeling, as if your pores are dilating and releasing your essence into the air.

Meanwhile, Ralak is searching for you at the edge of the crowd, peeking over the sea of people. His eyes quickly scan the waves of dancing na’vi, looking for his tahni. His deep blue tahni. He had no interest in going into the crowd, much less surrender himself to the hypnotic ways of the music.

But he has no other choice.

He nosedives into the crowd, working his way between people as they increasingly get more and more suggestive with their bodies. One cannot simply walk through this without being affected to some degree – the pink tinge of his cheeks is evidence of it.

A hand instinctively flies to his nose to block out the mixture of scents bombarding him. Pxir. Sex. Desperation. Its almost contagious. Only making him want to be with you even more. Nearly to the point of desperation. He needs you. To be around you. To touch you. To be inside you.

Until it just becomes too much. Too much that a simple hand overing his burning nostrils won’t suffice. He drops his hand in defeat, allowing the mesmeric fumes to engulf him. It’s nauseating, yet his want for you grows stronger, to the point where he could swear to Eywa herself that the scent is slowly morphing into yours.

And yours only.

Ralak closes his eyes, inhaling so deeply that his chest tightens – all so he can savour your sweet, sweet aroma. He succumbs to it, nose following the scent to the source like an ilu being lured with a piece of fish. When he opens his eyes, he sees you. Clear as day.

There’s an aura around you, glowing so bright it’s almost blinding. It’s like the light in the darkness – all over again. Just like the first day he met you. The day you brought meaning to his life after losing so much.

Right there.

In awe, he watches your little body move effortlessly to the rhythm, slender tail swishing excitedly behind you. It’s the way you look – all flushed and flustered, dressed in the clothes of the Metkayina. He swallows thickly at the sight, influence of your pheromones making it that much harder – literally. He’s so hard it hurts, balls tightening and pulling so close to him that he shifts his weight to the next foot.

Yet his eyes dare not move. They bore into you so deep that even you can sense his stare. Your body knows he’s close, speeding up with your lewd movements, luring him in even more. And it works. He can’t help but move a little closer. Just to get a better look at you. At how you’ve learned the dance of his people, moving just like one of them with no difficulty.

And then you feel him.

Pressing against your body from behind, his warmth only heating you up more. You can smell him – no need to turn around to check who it is. You lean back into him, back of your head slumping into his chest. Everything’s so hot – so heavy. He leans down, pressing his soft, warm lips against your throat, using his tongue to taste the sheen on your skin.

You exhale an audible haah, chest heaving harshly as your nipples harden into peaks underneath your new garments. Tsireya lets you go, retreating into the crowd to leave you both alone. His hands quickly replace hers, wrapping tightly around your waist, pulling you in closer to his hot body.

That’s when you feel it, hard and firm, pressing into your lower back. Then your breaths turn raggedy, becoming louder. You can’t help but grind into it, feeling him bend his knees, body receptive to your movements. And soon he’s grinding into you too, bodies falling into synchrony.

“So this is what you have been learning. Hm?” He whispers gruffly into the shell of your ear, following your every move as you lower yourself even more.

“May-be” The word comes out broken from the pace your body is setting for him to keep up with.

“All for me?” He chuckles, greedy hands lowering to your thighs, fingers smoothing over your clammy skin.

“Mmn – mhm.” You purr, thighs squeezing together as you shimmy your hips into him, providing your throbbing clit with a little friction.

His hands swipe underneath your loincloth as they glide back up to your hips, his lips pressing into your neck once more. He peppers hot, wet kisses down to the tips of your shoulders and up to the back of your neck. It sends your freckles flickering under the moonlight, surely gaining more eyes on the two of you.

But neither of you cared. Not in this moment.

“Feel me.” He growls, sinking his fingers into your hips to shove you into his pelvis. “Feel what you do to me.”

You can hear the frustration in his voice, he’s so wound up that you can just tell from the way he’s manhandling your hips. “Oh, fuck.” You gasp, rubbing yourself against his hardened bulge, tail wrapping around his thin waist.

Calloused hands work their way up your stomach, fingers grazing over the dip of your navel before finding purchase under the strings of your top. He hooks his thumbs under the twine, running them along its length. You bow your back against him, pushing back into his crotch.

“My beautiful tahni.” He groans shakily, resisting the urge to pin you down and take what’s his, right here, right now. “I have missed you.”

“Ma’ Lak.” You moan softly, feeling so out of it – so hazy and light-headed.

“Do me the honour of being my mate.” He tries to speak politely, keeping his voice steady and calm, rough grinding smoothing into gentle swaying.

“Say that again for me.” You pant through a smile, dipping your head forward to give him better access to your neck.

A low growl rumbles in his chest as pointed canines graze over the nape of your neck, eager to sink into your supple skin. You spin around, drawing a little blood when they scrape against your skin. He shoves a knee between your legs, spreading them apart to press his pelvis firmly into yours. “Mate with me, woman.”

“Oh, yeah? Right here?” You tease, tugging at his queue to bring it over his shoulder.

“You’re trouble. You know that?” He chuckles breathily, leaning down to nuzzle into your neck, breathing in your hypnotic scent.

“I’ve been told.” You let out a soft giggle, twirling the end of his kuru around your finger.

Eywa, did that feel good.

“Come.” He says quickly - impatiently, hoisting you up onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist. He stumbles over to the shore, still feeling the effects of the melodic music coursing in his bloodstream. Quickly calling for his tsurak with a tik-tak, he watches as the large beast glides through the water towards him.

In an instant, Ralak bonds and mounts the beast with you stuck to him, holding you close with one hand and gripping the harness tightly with the other. You bury your face into his chest, basking in his natural scent as you try to calm down. But you’re so on edge and need some sort of release soon.

“Need y-you. S-so bad.” You moan needily, breath hitching as you grind the soft flesh between your legs against the tautness of his tewng [loincloth].

Ralak’s brows pinch tightly together, huffing a breath of hot air through his nostrils. His restraint is dwindling by the millisecond. He needs you. Craves you. Hungers for you. And he can no longer withhold himself, not when you’re still grinding into him, even though the music has faded out.

“I know. Almost there. A little longer.” He hums breathlessly, beads of sweat rolling down his temples.

Ralak’s so flustered and hot that he can barely maintain control over his winged beast, making the ride to the cove of ancestors rough and bumpy. The burning need to possess you – dominate you – only grows stronger with each huff of hot air you breathe onto his bare chest.

He wants so badly to just drill himself inside you, right on the back of this tsurak. Leaving his cock buried deep in your tight, wet heat for the remainder of the ride. So that when you do arrive, he can lay you down on the nearest rock and have his way with you.

But he won’t. Not for your first time. Not before you mate.

Your breath rasps in your throat, nimble fingers working away at the knot above his tail. It’s as if you could hear his thoughts already, telling you to take him right here, right now. Or perhaps it’s the way his painfully hard cock almost bores through the thin cloth, right into your sopping cunt as his hips buck into you. Both of you reek with desperation, a scent so pungent any passer-by would gag. Yet he still finds the self-control to reach behind him to rest a gentle hand on your wriggling fingers.

“Wait.” A single word parts his flushed lips, gruff and strained. It’s all he can get out in his state of mind. He wants nothing more than to just do this the right way. The way he’s been planning for years on end. You whine a little when he pulls your hand away, plunking it back onto your slippery thigh.

“Please.” You mewl, fingers now burrowing between your pelvises to slip under the band of his loincloth, pulling it down just enough to unsheathe his thick cock. It’s slaps against his flexed abdomen, tip of his glossy, reddened head poking right below his crossed ribs. It’s all swollen and throbbing, sticky from how much precum he’s leaking all over himself.

Denying him the chance to refuse, you shove your clothed cunt against his slickened length, humping into him with ease. He tries to bite back a sudden groan, tightening his jaw so much he may fracture it. His breaths turn raggedy as he rests his chin on the crown of your head.

Eyes becoming so lidded, he doesn’t even realise that you’re finally here. The cove of the ancestors. The most sacred places in the village of Awa’atlu, where na’vi go to mate. You’re blissfully unaware of your surroundings, trying to stick your hand in your crotch to shift your loincloth to the side.

“I said. Wait.” A gruff, stern voice sends a shiver down your spine.

And fuck – it only makes you hornier, sending your hips in a thrusting frenzy, doing their best to line his cockhead up with your dripping entrance. You can’t quite catch it as it keeps bucking and slipping over your puffy clit. You grunt a frustrated ‘mmph’, irritated that he isn’t sliding in like you thought.

Ralak is struggling to maintain his composure. Half of him wants to chuckle at your futile attempts to fuck him, and the other half wanting to just ram his cock inside you for being so stubborn. He takes a deep breath in, holding it to reground himself. He exhales a sigh of relief once he bumps into the rocky cove of his people’s most sacred place.

“Eywa – tahni.” A tortured groan evades his lips when he forces himself to shift his pelvis away from you as you persist with your efforts to hurt yourself. He inhales deeply, slowing his galloping heart. “Be a good girl for me, hm? We are here now.” He croons at you, wrapping your hands around his neck and supporting your back as he dismounts his tsurak.

The bioluminescence of the water glows behind you as Ralak walks you both towards a nearby sea cave. Directly below you is the spirit tree – its fronds and filters luminating the area radiantly. You try to squirm out his grip, feet dangling above the cave floor from the way he refuses to let you go.

“Not here. Too rough.” He grunts as he hoists you back up and walks further into the large, open sea cave. Its floor is completely flat, with all sorts of flora growing between the cracks of the rock. The deeper you venture in, the greener it becomes. Until eventually, all that covers the floor is a thick bed of green, silky moss.

Little creatures buzz around, luminating the darkness of the cave, exposing the markings on the wall from previous mating sessions. Etched swirls, zigzags, and other patterns to signify a new union. There’s no doubt that this little ‘hidden’ spot is a popular place for na’vi to mate before Eywa.

You calm down a bit, influence of the music wearing off now that you’re both so far away from the celebration. At this point you just feel a bit buzzed, melting into Ralak’s grasp as your tense muscles relax. But your droopy eyes snap open when you feel him unwrapping your legs from his waist.

“Here.” Ralak husks, voice deep and thick with arousal.

He lets you down gently, snaking his arms around your waist to pull you in for a kiss. His lips crash into yours, so heated and frantic that there’ll for sure be bruises there tomorrow. His eager hands explore your body, releasing all the pent-up feelings he’s been holding back for the past few months.

Hearts thumping wildly in your chests, you pull away and share the same breath, panting open mouthed before your lips meet again. His hands find themselves cupped around your reddened cheeks, impatiently pulling you in closer until your bodies are flush against one another.

Webbed hands work their way down the column of your throat, calloused thumbs gently pressing into your windpipe. You let out a choked gasp, mouth hanging open as his hands continue their way down to your chest, fingers parting the blood-red leaves to expose your stiffened nipples.

Rolling the tiny, sensitive peaks between his thumb and index fingers, he quickly moves his kisses down your jaw and up to the lobe of your ear, biting it as gently as he can. You stand there open-mouthed, breath catching in your throat momentarily.

You exhale as you rub your thighs together, smearing your sticky arousal all over them. It spreads your scent into the air, causing Ralak to pull away from your ear and takes a deep breath in. He releases it with a lengthy ‘ahh’, face growing hot from the way you smell. You can see him clench and unclench his jaw as the lump in his throat moves from how hard he’s swallowing.

Cerulean eyes pierce into yours, a moment of stillness passes by where his face morphs into the same face he makes when he’s trying not to succumb to that animalistic urge to ravish you on the spot. But it’s been too long. No amount of clenching and gritting could help him.

Not tonight.

He grabs you by the jaw, pulling you up on the tips of your toes to kiss you – hard. His lips crush yours frenetically, letting go all his worries and apprehensions. Truly indulging himself in the moment. In you. He fills his lungs with your arousal – your aphrodisiac. Getting high on you and allowing his body to speak for him.

Slipping his tongue into your mouth, he backs you up against the wall, hand flying to the back of your head to cushion the impact. Your tongues roll over each other, taking in the feeling of every tastebud. Both his hands slip down to yours, lengthy fingers enfolding your wrists as he brings them above your head, pinning them to the wall.

He quickly binds your wrists together, securing them tightly with one hand whilst he shoves his free hand between your slickened thighs. A small, shaky gasp breaks the kiss, thick fingers tugging down your soddened garments. You help him by shimmying your hips, allowing the flimsy material to drop to your ankles.

Now you’re just irresistible.

His fingers graze past your plump, smooth folds, before finding their way in between them. “Ralak.” His name slips out, all breathy and small. You say it so nicely, so sweet and innocent, and his ears can’t help but flicker at the double syllabled word. Eywa, he loves it so much that he makes it his mission to have you scream it by the end of the night.

But not yet.

He brings his digits to his nose, inhaling as deep as his lungs can go, closing his eyes to relish in the sweet, sweet scent of your arousal. And when his eyes open, you swear you see them shift in colour, darkening to a cerulean blue. There filled with greed, gazing longingly at you as if you were something to devour.

And that’s when he takes his fingers into his mouth, having his taste of you. Tongue weaving through the cracks of his digits, he licks them clean, using his thumb to wipe the corners of his mouth before popping that in too. There was something about the way he did that, sucking on his fingers as if you were the best thing, he’s ever tasted in his twenty-four years of living.

It makes you want to taste him too. Back bowing against the jagged wall, you try to wriggle free from his grasp, prompting him to loosen his fingers. In an instant you sink to your knees, staticky hands latching onto his thighs as you press your face against his half-covered bulge. His hand flattens against the wall, supporting his weight as he peers down at you wide-eyed.

You walk your fingers up his thighs, tucking them under the band of this loincloth to yank it down. Out springs his twitching cock, rock hard and throbbing from how swollen he’s gotten from sharing a few kisses. Your eyes cross as you look at it for the first time up close.

It’s... thick. So thick you can’t close your hand around it, leaving a spacious gap between your fingers and thumb. It only gets fatter towards the middle, then tapers off into his mushroomy head, curved and ribbed. His ridges are pointed, yet soft, spanning around and down the underside of his cockhead.

It curves upward, jumping to the rate of his heartbeat. A single bead of precum oozes from his slit, dripping off his cockhead in a thin string. Your tongue darts out, flattened with the tip of it touching your chin, eyes locked on his as you wait patiently for your fill. And when it finally drops onto your tongue, your tastebuds dance from the slightly sweet taste.

His brows jump at the sight, eyelids fluttering a little too quickly to be considered calm and collected. You can’t fight the smug look creeping on your face when you lock your jaw and swallow it with glee. Oh, to make a big, grown man like him crumble.

Naturally, you want to see how far you can push him. You wrap your dainty fingers around his cock, hold it taut to expose his throbbing head. Unsure of what you’re doing, you give him little kitten licks, playing with the little ridges underneath the tip of his cock.

His head slumps forward, thick strands of loose hair swaying side to side as his core flexes and unflexes. He’s biting his bottom lip, struggling to hold back that low grumble deep in his chest, hand balling into a fist against the wall.

And when you finally take him into your mouth, engulfing him in wet heat, his hips thrust. Hard. He didn’t mean for it, you just feel so fucking good around his cock, swollen lips stretching to their limit just for him to fit. Your eyes water, tip of his cock prodding into the back of your throat, corners of your mouth burning from the sheer size of him.

The way you’re looking up at him all glossy eyed and innocent, trying to absolute hardest not to gag on not even half of his cock sends him over the edge. He tightens his fist, knuckles scraping against the rocky wall, surely becoming bloody as he fights the urge to thrust into you one more time.

That’s when you hear the rumble in his chest, the steady, low growl traveling up his throat. Perhaps it was meant to scare you, or maybe it’s the face he’s making – narrowed, beady eyes and thinly pursed lips. Make you sit in the dip of your feet and be the good girl he wants you to be. But it only makes you wetter, thick strings of your own slick oozing onto the mossy floor.

You take him deeper into your mouth, mushroomy tip making its way down the tightness of your throat. The hot tears stream down your cheeks, washing away the rouge to reveal an even pinker tinge of your skin. The saliva pooling in your cheeks spills out the corners of your mouth, dribbling down your chin with nowhere to go.

Instinctively, you swallow.

An innocent reflex, as innocent as the glazed eyes that peer up at him. He lets out a sudden, sonorous groan, brows pinching so tightly together it creases his forehead. It’s so sensitive, so tender, that his hips snap back, cock pulling out your mouth with a loud pop. His bloodied hand flies down to your pinch your chin, pushing you away from him all together.

“’m sorry.” You apologize through a hoarse voice, thinking you’ve hurt him.

He shakes his head, thumb swiping the drool on your swollen bottom lip. “Don’t.” He exhales, chest rising and falling from how hard he’s breathing. You watch this gentle giant crumble to his knees before you, chin tucked to his chest to hide his face. He swallows harshly, clearing his throat as he slowly raises his head and looks up at you through hooded eyes.

“Tsaheylu.” He says breathlessly, heated ears laying flat against his head. He catches his breath as he shuffles closer to you, hand reaching for his kuru. All that’s running through his mind is that he must do this right. And with whatever remaining restraint ebbing away, he must do it now. “Tsaheylu, tahni.” He repeats quickly.

Ralak holds his kuru upwards, exposing his pink tendrils as they dance wildly before your eyes. There’s a moment of silence, where you both take in the lilac hue of his kuru. You nod franticly as a hasty hand reaches behind you, quickly tugging your queue in front of you. You hold yours next to his, revealing your wiggling tendrils.

Your eyes widen when you realize that they sense one another – an invisible force pulling them together. You glance up at him, wondering if he’s feeling the tug too. He’s watching intently, ears twitching and eyes tinted purple from the hues of your kurus coming closer together all on their own.

Looking back down, you witness your tendrils excitedly intertwine with one another, kurus meeting with a quick, harsh tug. His eyes slam shut, ears practically disappearing as they embrace the curve of his skull. He exhales loudly, head dipping forward as his brows gather tightly.

Your breath catches in your throat, body waiting for him to take a breath. When he finally does, you gasp for air, filling your lungs in synchrony with him. His eyes pop open, pupils so blown that only a thin ring of blue remains. Your tail swishes wildly behind you before curling around your waist to tickle his thigh.

A faint ring buzzes in your ears, fading out into a vague, echo of his voice. You can hear his thoughts, feel the way your tail brushes against his skin makes him hot and bothered. You can feel his tightened chest, thick with emotion and overwhelm. And if you close your eyes and focus enough, you can feel his deep-rooted trauma – his past.

But you can also feel his present. His future. The way he desires you to be the one to bear his children. To make his marui into a home. His immense adoration for you and only you. and the more you tune into your mate, the more you feel his immense restraint and composure, the way he’s forcing himself to be gentle.

It’s all too much at once, yet not enough all together.

“I love you.” You blurt out in unison, urge so strong it’s exigent.

The tightness in your chest grows ten-fold, spreading to your core. Eager hands caress one another’s cheeks, pulling each other in for another heavy session of kissing. You break the kiss with a shove to his chest – your futile attempt to push him onto his back. He’s unbudging, strong and solid, even in such a carnal state.

“Lie down, Lak.” You pant, still out of breath from such an intimate experience.

Ralak nods, slowly leaning back to prop himself up on his elbows. Loose, curly strands of hair sticks to his temples, inebriated gaze boring into yours. You climb between his legs, settling yourself comfortably in the dips of your feet.

His neglected cock twitches madly, pre-cum practically flowing down his length and onto his swollen, firm balls. You swallow thickly at such an enticing sight. You want to taste him. To return the pleasure he’s always ensuring for you. Now that you’re here, between this gentle giant’s legs, you realise that you’ve never even stroked him before.

Shaky, inexperienced hands wrap around his girth, experimentally gliding up and down its length a few times. You can feel every vein, every ridge pressing into the palm of your hands. He’s so rock hard that it looks painful. You can tell in the way he grimaces, peering down at you as you pump him without rhythm.

Holding his cock out the way, you lean in do something you’ve been thinking about since the day of your first lesson. Lick his tattoo. It’s raised and warm, even a little veiny too. You trace each stripe with the tip of your tongue, trailing it down to the base of his cock. Nuzzling your face into the space between his thigh and balls, you fill your lungs with his musky aphrodisiac.

“Eywa. You smell... so fucking good.” You exhale, licking his cock from base to tip. He shudders before you, lying down flat on his back and covering his face with his hands. You can tell you’re doing a good job, the little groans evading his mouth confirming that for you.

Taking him into your mouth, you suck on his mushroomy head, swallowing all the slick that pools in your cheeks. Its mostly sweet, with a little bit of a salty aftertaste. You mindlessly play with the ridges under his tip, liking the way they feel against your tastebuds. He seems to like it too, hips jolting forward with each swipe of your tongue.

“Muntxate [wife]” He growls the word, hand flying from his face to grab a fist full of your hair.

Yes, my love? You think, knowing he’s hearing your every thought and feeling your every emotion.

“Keep doing that and I’ll cum.” He warns you, tone of voice gruff and serious.

Good. Cum for me.

“Ssst–ah.” He lets out a shaky breath, hand beginning to pull your head off him. You quickly clutch his wrist, picking up the speed of your tongue whilst bobbing your head on his cock. “Tahni. Tahni. Tahni.” He groans, each word becoming more and more guttural as they slip off his tongue.

Let me taste you, Muntxatan [husband].

“Shit.” He whispers, caving in on himself as his other hand flies to your head, stopping you from bobbing your head all together. With a quick, single swipe of your tongue, his head pulsates feverishly, spurting ropes of warm, thick cum in your mouth. It pools in your cheeks, stuffing them until they burn from how full they are.

You swear you can hear the da-thump of his throbbing cock, balls pulling closely to his core. You hum triumphantly, proud of yourself for making him cum. You pull off with a subtle pop and a loud gulp, swallowing his huge load with greed. Wide eyes stare down at you, processing what you just did.

Seconds of silence fill the air, two freshly mated na’vi staring into each other’s eyes.

Within seconds he’s pinning you down on your back, assaulting your throat with rough kisses. His core ruts against yours, sweaty, inexperienced bodies bumping into each other. Everything moves so quickly that you can barely process how he’s got you pinned down on your back underneath him, trailing wet, feverish kisses down your chest. You go to slip out of your top, only for a large hand to stop you.

“Keep it on.” He grunts into your skin, tip of his tongue leaving a trail of saliva down the centre of your stomach. Eyes flicking up to yours, his predatory, lustful gaze bores into you, soft lips pressing into your abdomen. They flicker from side to side as they admire your luminous beauty, flushed lips sucking bruised-like marks into your dark skin.

Little broken mewls part your lips, hips lifting slightly as he peppers gentle kisses below your navel. He maintains eye contact with you as he works his way down to your hipbones, leaving open-mouthed kisses against your hips, he works his way down to your soft thighs, tip of his tongue swiping against your skin – salty from the sea. He lingers there for a while, breathing deeply to savour the sweet scent of your heat that’s so, so close to him.

He lingers there, waiting patiently.

Waiting for your permission as he begs you with his eyes to let him have a proper taste of you. To have his turn. One side of your mouth pulling coy smirk, you weave your fingers through his hair to push his nose between your folds. He wrenches your thighs open, pinning your legs to the mossy ground as he begins to devour you.

Tongue parting your pussy lips, he greedily laps up the sweet nectar dripping from your slit. He grunts into your cunt, sucking on your clit, all swollen and puffy from being so neglected. His hips buck into the mossy bedding beneath him, chasing the feeling that’s transferring to him through the bond.

You yelp out when you feel his finger stretch you out, sinking inside you at a torturously slow pace. He doesn’t want to be too rough with you as it’s been a while since he’s touched you in this way. But you reassure him with a tug at his wrist, shoving his finger knuckle deep inside you.

But it’s just not enough.

“M-more, Ralak. Please!” You cry out, extreme pressure in your chest coming to a head.

Feeling the taut tension, Ralak quickly obliges, sinking another digit inside of you as he assaults the little bud of nerves with the flat of his tongue. Your toes curl at the same time he curls his fingers inside you, prodding them deep into that gummy part of your heat. The pressure feels like electricity, surging through your core and to the tips of your extremities.

He loves how you’re squirming around, hips sputtering to chase your orgasm all on your own. He’s so proud of you, working for your own release like the good girl you are. Praising you with a quick pat on your thigh, he quickens the pace of his fingers, working out a squelch with each thrust.

You begin chanting his name over and over, voice waning with each syllable, until its nothing a tiny, pathetic whimper. Your head spins and your heart skips as you clench tightly around his digits. Your legs tremble, working their way towards one another to close around his face.

“Gonna – oh f-fuck.” You let loose a sudden whine, shoving him into your pussy when you feel the final shockwave ripple through your being, leaving you a shaking mess at the mercy of his two fingers and tongue. Following your every jolt, he hums a victorious groan from the feeling of your pussy walls fluttering helplessly around his fingers. He pulls away with a ‘pwah’, using this opportunity of pure, unadulterated pleasure to stretch you out even more.

“Good girl. And breathe for me.” Ralak coos, sliding his third and final finger inside you. The stretch stings, causing you to wince for just a moment. He quickly curls his fingers, causing another wave of white-hot pleasure to ripple through you, masking that string just right.

Ralak gently moves his fingers inside you, just enough to get you used to the such a big stretch. The sharp sting fades away, leaving nothing but small shocks of electricity surging through your swollen pussy. Slumping your head back into the pillowy moss, you focus on steadying your breathing. Your vision is blurry, and things are becoming hazy, but you don’t want this moment to end.

“Lak... Want more. Please.” You moan weakly, eyes crossing before they roll to the back of your head. You’re already all fucked out from his fingers alone yet you’re begging him for more. And he can see it, too. The way you’re just so spent, body trembling beneath him as he continues to stimulate your rubbed out sweet spot.

“I am not like you, tahni. I only have three.” He chuckles softly, curling them inside you as a reminder.

“Ngh! Y-you know what I mean. I want you...” Your voice falters, hand reaching down to grab his erection, a little surprised that he’s still this hard. “I want this. Please.”

His features soften, apprehension filling his lower stomach just from the jaded look you’re throwing his way. “Are you sure? We can do it another time.” He insists, feeling how tight you still are, despite taking three of his fingers.

“No, please no.” You pant as you shake your head lethargically, shimmying your hips closer to his. “Need-you-to-fuck-me!” You cry out, stringing the desperate words together so quickly it almost sounds like one.

“Tahni.” He utters just over a whisper, staring down at you with eyes of concern. Not only can he see the exhaustion on your face, but he can feel it too. It travels in waves through the bond, right into him. And after such a long day, iknimaya and all, it’s expected. “It will be too much for you right now.”

“You said, ‘anything I please with’. Right?” A tremulous, soft voice reminds him of his deal, knowing he’s a man of his word, albeit few. He chews on his bottom lip, a little impressed with you. He heaves a heavy sigh of defeat, positioning himself between your clammy thighs as he hoists your legs over his.

“Tell me if it hurts. Okay?” He leans over you, using a thumb at the base of his cock to line it up with your entrance.

You nod lazily before tucking your chin to your chest to witness you become one. The crown of his cock prods at your tight opening, looking massive in comparison. For a second you even question yourself how that will fit inside you. It’s way bigger than his three fingers combined, not to mention, much, much lengthier.

It bucks against your innocence, slipping and gliding over your sticky clit. You both grunt in unison, tension snapping just to rebuild all over again. His hips snap back, all four fingers now gripping the base of his cock.

An unexpected wave of anxiety crashes through you, making you cling onto your mate. You bury your hot face into his shoulder, completely abandoning the plan to witness it strip you of your innocence. He can feel your hesitation through the bond, holding his position in case you change your mind.

“Do it, ma’ lak. Put it inside me.” You mumble quietly into the dip of his collarbone, inching your hips closer to his.

He pushes into you slowly, breaking past the resistance of your tightness, mushroomy tip liding in with an audible pop. You bite down onto his shoulder, hard enough to sink the full length of your canines into his cyan coloured skin, staining it red with his blood. It muffles your pained, little cry, tear drops crashing onto the swell of your cheeks.

Fuck, it hurts.

It hurts so much that it makes your body shake and shiver underneath him as it tries so desperately to adjust to his size. It burns and stings and oh – it’s just too much. It feels as if something were lodged between your joints, snapping you open with such force.

His movement comes to a standstill, as if he were frozen in time. He grimaces, unsure if its from the way you’re pinching him or if its from how deep your little canines are sunk into him. Or maybe it’s your pain transferring to him, but he feels it too.

“You okay? Feeling pain?” Ralak’s voice is tender, a gentle hand moving to release your bite.

You unlatch from his shoulder, leaving open puncture wounds for blood to trickle down his chest. The pain fades at a torturously slow rate, but any little movement causes a new wave of fire to shoot down your legs. Surely, just like with his fingers, if you stay here for a bit, it’ll fade completely.

“No. Haah. Just give a m-minute.” You pant out a lie, breath hitching at the last word.

“Y/n. I can feel your pain.” He utters breathily, pulling out as gently as he can.

“Don’t. Please, I want this.” Your voice is breathy, yet strained, legs quickly locking around his hips to push him in a little deeper. You let out a sudden, high-pitched whimper, burning sensation worsening. Your legs begin to shake uncontrollably around him, sending little vibrations up his spine.

“You’re shaking. Another time.” Ralak says sternly, unhooking your legs from around his hips.

“No, please.” A pathetic little plea falls from your lips.

He shakes his head, grinding his teeth together to deal with the guild bubbling in his chest. “Your body isn’t ready.” He mutters, pulling out tenderly. The more he moves, the more the scent of blood fills the air. He can feel it trickling down his back, but it’s the least of his concerns right now.

“I-I am ready. Please Lak, just give me a moment to –”

Ralak looks down as he pulls out, head snapping back up to reveal the panic etched into his features. “You – oh Eywa. You are bleeding, tahni.”

“It’s okay. I’m okay.” You coo with quivering lungs, cupping his cheek to make him look in your eyes. “Really. Look at me, Ralak.” You give him a wobbly smile, only for him to pull away from your grip.

“I am hurting you. Look.” Two fingers pinch your chin, pulling it down to avert your gaze. A thin layer of blood coats your inner thighs, some smearing on his too. Your eyes snap back up to his, which are glazed over with panic and guilt. He pulls out of you fully, sitting in the dip of his feet to have a proper look between your legs. “I am so sorry tahni... I-I thought I stretched you enough.”

“Lak...” You whisper shyly, trembling legs slowly closing to hide yourself from his eyes.

“We must go.” He declares, carefully scooping you up into his arms, holding you close to his chest as he makes his way out of the cave. Calling for his tsurak, he glances down at your face to see it screwed with discomfort. The guilt weighs heavy in his heart, driving him to act quickly.

So quickly that you don’t even realise that you’re already on the back of his tsurak, soaring at full speed through the water. You were truly fine, just a little sore and uncomfortable, but certainly nothing that required this level of speed. The ride back is uncomfortably quiet, Ralak trying his hardest to regulate his emotions. You can see the restrained look on his face, tightened brows, and thin lips.

“I’m alright, my love. You don’t have to go so quickly.” You try to reassure him with a small voice. He huffs a sigh in response, clenching and unclenching his jaw, biting back his feelings to focus on remedying the situation. “’ts not your fault.”

Eyes slamming shut, he shakes his head slightly, as if he were saying you were wrong. He holds you closer, opening his eyes to glance down at your blood-stained thighs. Eyelids fluttering, he looks back out into the distance, watching his marui pod appear larger and larger as he approaches it.

Within seconds he’s dismounted his skimwing, and takes large, quick strides to the cave. Your legs dangle over his forearm, other arm supporting your back as he carries you bridal style into the water. A shaky hand reaches for his kuru, holding it in the air to expose his pink, tendrils.

“Tsaheylu, Lak.” You groan needily, wrapping your tail around his thigh.

“Soon, tahni. Let me clean you first.” He hums tenderly, glancing down at your body one last time before slowly submerging you in the water.

The lake is always warmer in the nights, glowing around you from its bioluminescent properties. Supporting your back with one hand, he carefully parts your legs and cleans you gently. Your eyes remain locked onto his face, his clenching jaw, his flattened ears – the way the column of his throat protrudes when he swallows.

The guilt is evident on his face, and it worsens the more he looks at what he’s done to you. And when he moves down to the flesh between your legs, you can’t help but jolt, legs closing around his hands as you wince a little. His head whips towards you, worried eyes boring into yours. You give him a quick smile, nodding that he can continue.

Hand parting your legs once more, he ensures to be extra gentle and tender, even leaning in to see if he’s doing it right. After he’s finished, he bathes the rest of your body, rinsing the sweat and grime out of your hair after such a long night.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to –” You mutter, trying to stand so you can have your turn at bathing him.

“No need.” He says quickly, scooping you back into his arms with ease, making his way up to his marui. “How are you feeling?”

“I feel fine, Lak. Honestly. You could’ve kept going, I just needed a moment.” You blubber out, trying to wriggle from his clutch.

He scoffs, shaking his head as he ducks under the flap to his marui. “You are like a baby.” He walks over to his bed and lays you down carefully, treating you as if you were really wounded. The leaves of your top stick to your breasts, wet and saturated from such a long bath.

“And you were about to fuck –” You mutter under your breath, to be cut off by Ralak’s glare. You let out a small sigh, a little frustrated from how the night played out. He walks towards a shelf on the opposite side of his marui, giving you the opportunity to sit up, and scoot over to the edge of the cot to get up.

His ears perk up from the shuffling sounds, but his back remains turned to you as he mutters the word. “Sit.”

Defeated, you plop back down onto the soft bedding, thumbs twiddling with one another as you wait for him to come back. Meanwhile he extends his arm to the top shelf, back muscles flexing as he retrieves two wooden drinking bowls and a bottle of liquid.

It’s mauve, and iridescent, swirling around as it sloshes from side to side. He pops it open with his back teeth, spitting the cork into a woven basket on the floor. He plans to cut it into two later, saving a piece each for your songchords.

Sitting next to you on the end of his cot, he hands you the wooden cup, nudging it closer to you with raised brows for you to take it from him. Reluctantly, you take it, a little confused as to what he’s giving you to drink. He pours the thick liquid into the cup, stopping after a few glugs. Then he pours himself one, too, waiting until the liquid touches the lip of his cup.

“Drink.” He orders, bringing his cup to his mouth as he waits for you to do the same.

Bringing it to your lips, your face screws with disgust, head turning away to get the smell out your face. You lower the cup into your lap, looking at him with an expression of perplexment.

How could he drink such a foul-smelling thing?

“Erm, no thanks... I’ll pass.” You barely get out, afraid to take a breath in.

His ears flatten in frustration, lip twitching ever so slightly. He knows this will help with the pain, so why are you being so stubborn? He doesn’t utter a single word, beady eyes piercing into yours.

“Okay. Okay. I’ll drink it... Eywa.” You say the great mother’s name like a curse, bringing the cup to your lip.

You take a sip, face contorts with revulsion, eyes watering as the liquid burns on the way down your throat. Your tongue darts out in repulsion as your eyes flicker up to him, brows raising inquisitively to ask if you drank enough.

His lips purse, and he shakes his head slightly. “All.”

You heave a sigh, rolling your eyes a little before bringing the cup back up to your lips once more. You feel a single finger rest under your hand, nudging it upwards to tilt the cup all the way back, encouraging you to take a swig. You knock it back, gulping down the viscous liquid and stick your tongue out for proof.

He nods in approval, slight smirk curling the side of his lips. He knocks his back in one go, letting out ‘ahh’ after the liquid travels down his throat. Not even a wince. He seems to enjoy the burn.

For you, the after taste is even worse, making your nose scrunch and the tears overflow from your eyes. He’s quick to wipe them away with his thumb, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear before retracting his hand entirely.

“What did I just drink?” You croak, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Fermented fruit. Pxir...” He looks at you, “Liquor.” Ralak takes the cup from you and refills it, as well as his.

Plunking it back into your hand, you look at him through pinched brows. “What does it do?”

He brings his to his wet lips, exhaling a sigh of guilt. “Pain. It will help with the pain.” He sighs, throwing his head back and swallowing the pxir in one, loud gulp.

Your features soften when you realize how he knows such a thing. “Is this what you had when you did your own tattoo?”

“Yes. Not the same. But the same effect.” He chuckles a little, impressed by your ability to put things together so quickly.

“Ah. I see.” You say, looking at the liquid as it swirls around in your cup. “So if I drink enough of this, you’d do my tattoo for me?”

“Sure.” He utters, fighting the little smile creeping on his face as he watches you chug the pxir. “But tomorrow. I have already caused you a great deal of pain today.”

Another sigh makes its way out your nose. You give up entirely, handing him the empty cup and laying down in the bed. Your bed. In your marui pod. Wondering, heavy eyes begin exploring the pod all on their own. It feels like the stilts holding the roof up are spinning, making you feel a bit woozy.

“Ralak. I feel weird.” You hiccup, heavy lidded eyes threatening to close for good. “All... bubbly.”

“Ah. My tahni.” He hums softly, sliding into bed next to you. “It will do that to you. Get some rest, okay?” He rakes his fingers through your hair, using his fingertips to massage your scalp.

“Lak. I want – I want to try again, doesn’t hurt anymore.” You blabber incoherently, trying to open your legs for him. Reminded of the pain that he brought you, Ralak shakes his head, closing your legs gently and covering you with the sheet. Snuggling into his warm chest, your eyes fall shut for the night.

“Another day.” Ralak whispers, planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

Unable to sleep, he spends the rest of the night swigging straight from the bottle, bathing, and checking up on you. You’d wake every so often to him parting your legs, checking to see if you were alright.

He thought nothing of it, just one of his duties as your mate to care for you. But you’d be quick to shove away his hand, mumbling to him not to look despite the coy smile on your face, all from knowing he cares that much.

When he finished the bottle, he was woozy enough to crawl back into bed with you and snuggle behind you. His eyes finally closing when the first rays of sunshine beam through the marui pod, the same rays that wake you up.

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issdisgrace · 1 year ago

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I love your works!! Can I please request a fluff fic of poly ghost soap and ftm reader?

AFTER A LONG DAY

WARNINGS: None

A/N: The reader being ftm takes a little bit of a back seat but i still think you will like anon and sorry if you dont

It had been a long, tiring day, and all I wanted to do was to curl up in between Johnny and Simon and sleep. I sigh as I open the apartment door. Finally, in the comfort of home. I shut and lock the door behind me before taking my shoes off, setting them in their spot on the shoe rack.

“I’m home.” I call out as I head into the kitchen to get a snack. Looking in the fridge, there’s nothing my stomach is deeming appetizing, so I close the fridge only to get jumped scared by Simon.

“Goddamnit Simon, what the fuck have I told you about jump scaring me?”

“Sorry.”

“Sigh, it’s ok. Where’s Johnny?”

“He’s in the bedroom under way too many blankets. He’s also been forcing me to watch The Golden Girls.”

“Sounds nice.”

“I guess.” Simon says, wrapping his arms around me. I rest my head on his chest as he gently moves my hair off my forehead to give me a kiss there.

“You had a rough day at work, didn’t you?” He asks.

“Yeah, the manger been of her bullshit and kept dead naming me today. I’m gonna report her tomorrow to the boss. I don’t think he’ll be too happy with her, considering he has a trans son.”

“Hmm, maybe he’ll finally fire her.”

“I can only hope.”

“Wheres my love.” Johnny says as he walks toward us. I smile at Johnny and open my arms for him. He hugs me tightly, giving me a quick kiss on the lips. Simon wraps his arms around the both of us, a small smile on his face.

“I love you guys.” I say.

“Love you too, Y/n.” Simon says out.

“Ew that’s gay.” Soap jokes.

“Yep, and if you're not careful, we’ll spread it to you.” I joke back. Simon lets out a little laugh.

“But in all seriousness, I would like to get out of these clothes and into something more comfortable.” I say.

“Ooo then we can watch golden girls together.” Johnny says excitedly.

“Ughh please no more.” Simon groans.

“We both know you like golden girls.” Johnny says.

“He’s right Simon. Now both of you please unhand me please.” They both groan as they let go of me.

“Thank you.” I say as I start towards the bedroom. Walking into the bedroom I head to closet I pick out one of Simon’s sweatshirts and nab a pair of Johnnys shorts. Stripping, I quickly change, throwing my dirty clothes into the hamper. Walking out of the closet, Johnny and Simon are already in bed waiting for me, enough space in between them for me. Crawling over Johnny, I plop myself in the middle of them.

“You’re so handsome.” Johnny says he cuddles into my side.

“You’re very handsome too, Johnny.”

“No, you’re the most handsome-est man I have ever met in my whole life.” I laugh at Johnny, shaking my head a little.

“I’m not so sure about that Johnny, Simon’s pretty handsome.”

“He’s pretty, you’re handsome.”

“You hear that Simon, you’re pretty.”

“Hmm, I heard,” Simon says, more focused on looking for a show that wasn’t the golden girls. Truly not wanting to spend another couple hours watching it.

“Its true Simon is pretty and you're handsome, very handsome and your voice has been dropping and your growing facial hair, so how couldn’t I think you're the handsome-est man I have ever met?”

“I’m flattered, Johnny.”

“He’s right, you know,” Simon says, giving me a kiss on my head.

“Thank you both. I appreciate it.”

“It’s no big deal and besides, we love you and we are so proud of you.” Johnny says.

“Very proud you’ve come a long way in your transition so far.” Simon adds.

“Thank you, the both if you. I fucking love the both of you so much.” I say before giving both of them a kiss.

“We love you two,” Johnny and Simon say in a weird synchronicity.

“Well, because you both love me so much, can I get some more kisses?”

“We can do that.” Johnny says as he gives me a kiss.

#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #cod #simon ghost riley x male reader #simon ghost riley x reader #john soap mactavish x male reader #john soap mactavish x reader #cod x male reader #cod x reader

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gmlocg · 1 year ago

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2,244.) Dead Synchronicity: Tomorrow Comes Today

Release: April 10th, 2015 | GGF: Adventure, Point & Click, Story Rich, Atmospheric, Story Rich, Mystery, Psychological Horror | Developer(s): Fictiorama Studios | Publisher(s): Daedalic Entertainment GmbH, BadLand Games S.L. | Platform(s): iPad (2015), Linux (2015), Macintosh (2015), Windows (2015), Android (2016), PlayStation 4 (2016), Nintendo Switch (2017), Blacknut (2020)

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hackerwrench · 3 years ago

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#Dead Synchronicity Tomorrow Comes Today #Dead Synchronicity #Fictiorama Studios #Daedalic Entertainment #point and click game #hackpost

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gamingsugoi · 3 years ago

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Dead Synchronicity: Tomorrow Comes Today Gameplay Full Game PC/PS4/Android/Nintendo Switch

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Dead Synchronicity: Tomorrow Comes Today By Fictiorama Studios walkthrough part 1 and until the ending will include the full gameplay on PC, PS4, Android and Nintendo Switch. This video is recorded in 720p 60FPS on PC. You can complete this game easy. I will show you how to play, watch and learn. If you enjoyed the video, please visit my youtube channel and leave a like and subscribe. It really means a lot!

#dead synchronicity: tomorrow comes today #point and click #pc game #nintendo switch game

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nebulablakemurphy · 3 years ago

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The Red Room

Summary: Meeting Yelena in the red room is the best and worse thing that’s ever happened to you. Warning: romantic Yelena x Fem!reader pairing and depictions of violence.

Those first weeks in the red room pass in a blur. You have one room. Just you. Meals are delivered like clockwork; no one speaks to you. Your only company being the television set that plays the same clips; morning, noon and night.

Until one day the lights flip on brightly above you and a woman enters. You squint up at her, “hello?”

“Hello.” She replies, “are you ready to get out of here?”

“Where will I go?” You wonder.

“Wherever I tell you.”

That is your first encounter with Madame B. When you were younger you thought her something of a savior. You know better now. Still when she calls for you, there’s no choice but to go.

You make your way down the long hall, florescent lights humming above you. Finally reaching the room you’ve been assigned; you grasp the door knob. Feeling the weight of the cool metal against your palm, with a steadying breath you turn it.

Inside is only Madame B and a girl. One you’ve only seen in passing, one of Dreykov’s favorites.

“Y/N, meet Yelena. She will be your partner from now on.” Madame B leads the introduction.

“Did something happened to Oksana?” Your brows pull together, voice small. Afraid to cross an unspoken boundary. She’s always been your partner.

“Oksana is no longer your concern.” The woman bites out. “Shake hands and prepare for your lesson.”

You nod, biting your tongue.

Lesson…

Sparring.

Dancing.

Captive simulations.

What will it be this time?

“Oksana is ok.” Yelena tells you, once the trainer is out of earshot.

“Good,” you whisper, holding your hand out to shake without another word.

“Is that why they kept you locked up so long? You don’t play well with others?” The blonde takes your hand, eyes narrowed into slits.

“I don’t play at all.” You inform her. Pleasing these people is your ticket out of here, and you will get out.

“Everybody plays, whether you want to or not.” Yelena tells you, letting your fingers slip from hers. “Just don’t get in my way.”

——————————————————————-

You don’t get in each other’s way. Somehow having Yelena as a combat partner is a lot less annoying than you anticipated.

Oksana is a better friend, but you aren’t here to make friends. You’re here to kill. Topple regimes from the inside out, Yelena helps you do that.

Your training with Yelena is different. Chipping away parts of you until you fit together seamlessly. From trust falls to synchronized attack plans, you name it you do it. Sometimes until you bleed.

One of your trainers, Ivan, has taken a liking to blind folded direction. Outside of captive simulations it is your least favorite team building activity.

You remind yourself to focus and breathe. In some ways guiding is worse than being guided. “Veer slightly to your right.”

Yelena lifts one bare foot, holding it airborne, allowing you to assess the placement of her next step. “Here?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, as she clears the bit of shattered glass. “That’s perfect.”

———————————————————————

Your first real assignment comes on Monday, June second.

“Come in, Miss American Pie. I have eyes on the target.” Yelena informs you through the ear piece.

“That’s still not my name, over. Stay high, I’m going down.” You reply, deploying your rope and riding it to the ground.

“Five ticks northwest and the package is yours.”

“Copy.” You follow her instruction, ducking away as a bullet shatters the window beside you. “Easy.” You chastise, in a hushed whisper.

“Sorry,” she apologizes half heartedly. The kill was necessary and she had a clean shot.

You spot your target, ready to turn onto the main street from the alleyway. You wrestle him to the ground, he puts up a good fight. Not good enough.

You wipe the blood from your hands before removing the usb drive from his breast coat pocket. “Just admit it,” you taunt, turning to the building Yelena is scoping from, “you’re proud of me.”

“Y/N!” Her tone is not playful at all.

What’s wrong? Before you get a chance to ask the man you’d assumed dead has his knife buried in your thigh.

You crumple to the ground as he prepares to strike again. In the time it takes to unholster your weapon a silent bullet reaches his temple from the sky.

You squint up at Yelena, watching her ride her teether down to the ground beside you. “Thanks.” You pant, inspecting the damage.

“That was sloppy,” she frowns, searching her pack for the midkit, then tearing open a package of gauze. “You always check the body, confirm the kill.”

“I know, I was stupid.” You gasp, feeling Yelena apply an obscene amount of pressure to your wound.

“We need to move to the extraction point, they can deal with you in medical.” Yelena rises, tossing your arm over her shoulder for support.

“It won’t happen again.” You promise, leaning heavily against her side.

“You’re right, it won’t. I have no idea what happens to me if you die.” She grumbles, somewhat bitterly.

———————————————————————

Interactions with Yelena are sparse after that. She doesn’t trust you. Only showing up for your lessons and leaving the moment they’re finished. You understand why she’s angry, you would be too.

According to your weekly rotation, today should be live target practice, however you are directed to a different room.

Once inside your eyes find the chair. You hate that chair. You hate this room. Nothing good ever happens here.

Slowly you move toward Yelena at the far wall.

“A little birdie told me that you’ve been holding back in combat lessons.” Ivan says, tapping a finger to his chin. “Why is that?”

You bite anxiously at the inside of your cheek.

“I said why is that?!”

You notice Yelena flinch from the corner of your eye. “It’s my fault,” you hold up a hand. “I took a hit on our last mission and my partner was being mindful of my injuries.”

“Oh I see.” He smirks, condescendingly. “You don’t want to hurt each other.”

“It would be counter productive to harm my partner.” Yelena points out. The red room drilled that into you.

“That is true.” His eyes dart between you. “But we can’t have you afraid of sparring together. Now can we?”

Your jaw ticks, awaiting the consequence.

“When’s the last time you girls ran a captive simulation?”

“Two weeks ago.” Yelena presents her left index finger to him for inspection. The nail just beginning to grow back.

Ivan hums, “When’s the last time you ran a captive simulation on each other?”

Your heart drops, all the blood running out of your face. Not for months.

“Hmm,” he wets his lips. “Who gets to play the captor first?”

Neither one of you volunteer.

“Belova,” he purrs. “Come choose your tools while Y/L/N straps herself into the chair.”

You don’t hesitate, it’ll be worse if you do. Tuning out his incessant chatter you find your seat. The metal chair sends a chill up your spine. Bending at the waist, you strap each ankle into a leather restraint, then your non dominant hand. Free hand waiting, curled around the arm rest.

Yelena kneels before you, her selections resting at your feet as she closes the final strap around your wrist. Your breath quickens.

“Fifteen minutes on the clock then you’ll switch.” Your spectator announces. “Make them count or we’ll start over.”

On autopilot Yelena reaches for the scalpel.

You don’t mean to scream…but eventually you do. You always do.

———————————————————————

Yelena knows your weaknesses and regularly exploits them to leave you face up on the floor during hand to hand combat sessions.

You used to resent her for it, but it made you strong. Stronger than you’ve ever been or hoped to be. The day you finally best her the room is filled with hushed whispers. Now you are ready.

You learn to move in harmony. The trainers ease up a bit and the other girls line up to watch you like an exhibit. You are two halves of a more perfect whole.

“Madame B, can I ask you something?” You say, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“Of course.” The older woman replies. “What is it?”

“Why was my training so different with Oksana?”

She leans in. “You were not brought here to be a partner to Oksana. She was standing in until we could be sure you were ready for a partner. Nothing more.”

“Was I brought here to be Yelena’s partner?” The question burns at the back of your throat.

“I understand the desire to seek meaning in these things. You hope to find your place in the world.”

You nod.

“But you have no place in the world,” the words cut like a knife. “What you do have is an opportunity to prove that you are not a waste of space, time, or resources. Come, let’s sit for debriefing.”

You wait in silence for Yelena to arrive, finally she does. Taking the seat beside you in the meeting room.

“In two days you will undergo the graduation ceremony, after which you are granted up to three days recovery time before you will be deployed to Moscow.” Madame B reviews the information, handing you each a folder of details.

“Enclosed you will find your identification cards and aliases. I suggest you take this time to familiarize yourselves. Tomorrow we will begin shooting photographs for the past two years of your lives. Report with several changes of clothing. Congratulations on this assignmet. It is a great honor.” Madame B dismisses you.

You open the file. ‘Katherine and Irena Reiner.’

“We’re sisters?” Yelena guesses.

Worse. “We’re married.”

“Even better.” She says under her breath, rising from the chair.

———————————————————————

Life in Moscow is different. Good. The neighbors are easy enough to convince. You play your parts to perfection.

The company you work for being the main focus. They have access to some sort of programming that Dreykov is desperate to get his hands on. You know better than to ask why.

Most mornings you get ready together, discussing the events of the previous day to prepare for the next.

“How come you only speak English?” Yelena wonders, turning off the steady spray of water from her shower and reaching out to grab a towel.

“I have a theory,” you reply, spitting excess toothpaste into the sink. “I think keeping me dependent on translation had more pros than cons.”

“They taught me.” She says, stepping onto the bath mat. “But I guess that’s different.”

You were brought in much older a majority of the other girls.

Your eyes meet in the mirror, seeing each other as if for the first time.

“I could teach you.” She offers, breaking the connection as she turns away.

“Yeah?” You pass the brush through your hair.

Yelena shrugs, “I have nothing better to do.”

“Just don’t teach me the wrong words to make me look stupid.” You arch a brow.

“It would be counter productive to harm my partner.”

Hours turn into days. Days into weeks and suddenly you stand on a blurred line. How much is she pretending? How much are you?

The two of you rest on opposite ends of the couch. Enjoying another round of prime time television.

“Yesterday I was talking to that girl in accounting.” Yelena pulls your attention from the picture.

“The blonde one?” You ask, tossing a piece of popcorn at her.

She attempts to catch it in her mouth. Having had more than a few drinks her coordination is lacking.

You smirk, when it falls into her lap.

“No Maggie.” She corrects you, finding the wayward piece and biting into it.

“Mmm.” You hum.

“Mmm? What do you mean, ‘mmm?’” Yelena’s brows pull together.

“Nothing,” you insist. “I was just acknowledging what you said.”

“You didn’t sound very happy about it. Did she do something to you?” Yelena demands, straightening her posture.

“No, she didn’t do anything. Anyway tell me what happened.”

“She’s worked there for a long time. I think she knows more than she says she does.”

“So are you gonna talk to her again? See if she’ll open up?” Yelena has that effect on people.

“I am married.” She rolls her eyes, flipping her left ring finger in place of the middle.

“Shut up.” You chuckle.

“I’m crazy about you, know you. Ever since we met in high school. You didn’t like me at first but you came around.” Yelena elaborates.

“I don’t remember seeing all that in our cover story.” You cock your head to the side.

“That was a shit story, I’m rewriting it.” She waves a hand.

“Tell me more.” Tell me everything.

———————————————————————

“Did you get milk?” You shout, peeking into the nearest paper bag.

“Was it on the list?” Yelena hollers back, from the front door, kicking it shut. Her arms full of groceries.

“I don’t remember,” you say, unpacking the head of lettuce and eggs.

“You made the list.” She scoffs, setting the rest of the haul on the floor.

A knock pulls your attention away from the food.

“Who is it?” You wonder.

“It’s me, George. From next door.” Your neighbor answers.

Yelena rolls her eyes, waving you out of the kitchen. It’s your turn to make small talk.

You step carefully around the produce to the main entrance. “Hey George.” You smile, swinging open the door, “what’s up?”

“Katherine!” He greets you. “Could I borrow Irena for a minute?”

“Is that lawnmower giving you trouble again?” You guess, leaning against the door frame.

“It’s running great actually. There’s something else I’m curious about though.”

“I can send her over after dinner.” You attempt to dismiss him.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” George moves his foot to prevent the door from closing, producing a pistol from his waistband.

“George!” Yelena waves, clearly oblivious.

“Irena,” he looks down at the gun, pointed at your chest, “we have much to discuss.”

“Clearly.” Yelena agrees, coming to join you on the threshold. “Are you going to tell me why you have my wife at gunpoint?”

“We should take this inside.”

“I’m good here.”

He presses the barrel against your skin through the fabric of your shirt. “You sure about that?”

“On second thought, I could go for a drink. Do you like scotch?” Yelena takes a step back, leaving room for him to enter the house.

“Who sent you?” George demands, guiding you into the kitchen.

“We also have brandy.” She says, expression unreadable.

“Who are you working for?” He asks a second time, adjusting his grip on the gun. “First one goes in her leg.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Yelena drawls. “But I’m going to warn you, if you hurt her, you die.”

“You have three seconds to give me a better answer,” the nuzzle of the gun sits flush against you upper thigh. “One, two-“

Yelena lunges, the gun firing into the floor when he’s knocked off balance.

George tosses her off as if she weighs nothing. You rush him, knocking the fire arm to the other side of the room. Your arms locked around his neck, flush to his back. He rams you back first into the china cabinet.

You fall away with a grunt.

“Now,” the man rights himself. Wiping away the blood from his split bottom lip with the back of his hand. “We’re going to have fun.”

Taking a fist full of your hair he begins pulling you toward the center of the room. You grab for a large shard of glass, slicing it over the back of this knee. He releases you, doubling over.

“I warned you.” Yelena snarls, stabbing her knife into his belly, making a straight line up to his sternum. “You thought you could use her to break me? They used to make me torture her! They used to make me-“ she breaks off, withdrawing her knife. Only to ram it in again and again.

George, if that was his real name, is long dead. A crimson puddle blooming on the floor. It doesn’t stop Yelena, hot, angry tears rolling past her cheeks.

“Yelena.” You say softly.

“They used to make me do it.” She repeats, the weight of the words crushing down on her.

Your arms envelope her from behind.

“No.” She sobs when she feels you there, holding exactly where it hurts.

“It’s ok.” You whisper against her ear.

The blood stained blade clatters to the ground. Her breathing ragged as both her hands find yours, squeezing tightly. Don’t let go.

“It’s ok.”

“No it’s not.” She cries, frantically shaking her head.

“I did it too.” As if she needs reminding. “They made me do it too.”

She allows you to stay curled around her, desperately trying to absorb some of that pain.

———————————————————————

Yelena’s drug of choice is alcohol, the spirits burn their way into her blood stream. Erasing all that she’s done.

“You want a glass?” She offers, setting the bottle of clear liquor down on the coffee table.

“No thanks.” You shake your head, hair still damp from the shower.

“Don’t be a hero,” she rolls her eyes as she takes a seat. The water had washed away any trace of George.

“Fine,” you take a long swig from the bottle in question.

“You’ll thank me later.” She tosses back a shot, sliding the strap of your pajama top down to assess the damage to your left shoulder. “It’s deep, going to need stitches. This is why we don’t go through china cabinets.” Yelena chastises, moving for the first aid kit.

“Yeah, not my finest moment.” You peek at her. “But it worked.”

“Mmm,” she hums, returning to her spot. Flipping open the white box and removing what she needs to stitch you up.

First she hits you with the antiseptic “сука!” Bitch.

“See,” you can hear the smile in her voice, “you are learning.”

You let out a pained laugh, “I guess I am. We need to call someone to clean this up.”

“Here,” she hands you her phone, blowing gently over you wound. “You take care of that, I take care of you.”

Your heart clenches at her words. But Yelena is your partner. That is all.

“Belova, do you have a status update?” A familiar voice answers after the first ring.

“Yeah, we need a cleanup.” You say matter of factly.

“Agent Y/L/N.” He greets you. “How many?”

“One.”

“For now,” The man remarks.

“You didn’t tell us we weren’t alone in this pursuit.” You purse your lips.

“There’s a reason we sent the best. I’ll put in for a clean up crew in the morning.”

“Let them know the body is in the bathtub.”

The goes dead.

The conversation distracts you well enough from the dull ache of the needle poking and pulling at your shoulder.

Carefully Yelena bandages the abused skin. Her finger tips running along the back of your arm.

“Thank you.” You whisper, relaxing into her touch.

Her lips ghost over your skin. “You’re welcome.”

Oh.

Slowly you turn, as if not to startle her. Yelena’s eyes find yours.

You move closer, tracing the line of her jaw. “Thank you,” you repeat.

She nods, still unsure.

“Of all the people I could’ve been stuck here with…I’m glad it was you.”

“You don’t have to say that.” She pulls your hand away gently.

“You’re right. I don’t have to say anything.“ You murmur, “But I want to… and it would be counter productive to harm my partner.”

“We can’t.” She knows it. You know it. “It will get in the way. They’ll kill us.”

“No.” You chuckle bitterly. “They’ll make us kill each other.”

“I wouldn’t do it,” Yelena insists.

“You won’t have a choice.” You point out. “Didn’t you hear about that stuff they started pumping into people?”

“Mind control.” Yelena replies in Russian.

“It’s only a matter of time.”

“Maybe we get out.”

“Maybe,” you smile sadly, “maybe we find each other.” In another life.

———————————————————————

Three days later Yelena comes home late. During your day off you were tasked with the more mundane tasks of running a household, but you suppose there are worse things. She finds you in the laundry room, drink already in hand. Her mouth set in a frown.

“What’s wrong?” You drop the piece of clothing back into the basket.

“I have it.” Yelena confesses.

You press your lips together, you knew this was coming. That information is the only reason you are here. “Did you contact them?”

“Not yet.”

“Are you going to?”

“You say that like I have a choice.” She stares down at her drink.

“I just meant-“

“I know what you meant.” Yelena knows you, better than anyone. The red room saw to that. “Do you want to stay one more night?”

“Do you?” You wonder.

“When I was a little girl…I didn’t have a chance to say goodbye.”

“In the morning,” you offer. Any longer and the risk will be too great. “We’ll go in the morning.”

She nods, taking in the room around her. “I wanted it to be real.”

“It was.” You choke down the lump in your throat.

———————————————————————

Your return to the red room is swift. No pat on the back or celebration to be had. Just two pawns, returning to their places on the board.

You’re separated from Yelena. Because your loyalties are to each other and that poses a threat. But what did they expect? They made you this way.

You are alone. Perhaps the most alone you’ve ever been. Or maybe you’d just forgotten that you could feel things. You remember now and wish you didn’t.

Like it or not she changed you. Knowing her had changed you, for better or for worse. After Yelena you were never the same.

Word of Oksana’s escape only fuels the need to chemically alter the minds of all agents. Beginning in order of importance.

Finding Yelena seated on the bench outside the physician’s office steals the breath from your lungs. To see her now is blatantly cruel and calculated.

Still you sit in the empty space beside her.

“Do you know where your orders are?” She asks.

“Yeah,” you nod, “Budapest. You?”

“Back to Moscow.” Yelena informs you.

You swallow hard, your pinkies skating past each other.

“Agent Y/L/N,” the doctor opens his door. You watch as another widow exits, she doesn’t look any different. Maybe the mind control drugs aren’t affective.

You steal one last glance at Yelena. Her eyes are desperate, ‘don’t go.’ Both of you knowing you can’t stay.

“Enjoy Moscow.” You whisper, moving reluctantly to your feet.

She tears her gaze away, unable to watch you leave. “I hear Budapest is beautiful.”

You hope so.

Wanna know what happens next? Check out chapter one of Miss American Pie! 💜

Yelena Belova Taglist: @captainwonderwidow

#yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #black widow #marvel fanfiction #black widow fanfiction #yelena belova fanfiction #yelena belova imagine #yelena belova x y/n #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x female reader #yelena black widow #miss american pie series #yelena belova one shot

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eagehaunting · 4 years ago

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Mystery March 2021 day 8: Home

I used today as an excuse to write out a little something on how Lewis took possession of the mansion! I hope you guys enjoy!

Lewis wasn’t sure how long he had been in this mansion. If he could focus enough to estimate, probably a few days, if worse came to worse, probably months.

And yet, he still hadn’t cleaned... Lewis turns a corner and takes in the long, dusty corridor. The many rickety doors stared back at him mockingly. The rugs hissed as they crunch under his shoes. The peeling wall paper threatened him with every step that he took.

“Lewis, what are you doing?” Comes a voice to his left, shocking Lewis out of his exhausted stupor and bringing him to look at the wall- more appropriately, the portrait. The woman with fine purple curls- Faust- stares back at him pointedly. “Well?”

“I... I wanted to get out of my room,” he admits, before his eyes wander to the mildew forming beside the portraits golden frame. “But now I remember why I didn’t want to come out.”

“Oh, don’t be like that. I know it seems difficult now, but it’ll become easier. I promise.”

His frown deepens, and Lewis sighs miserably while leaning against the wall across from her. “I know.. I just don’t think I’m ready.”

“Why’s that?”

“I haven’t gotten a hand on my powers. Not yet, ” Lewis admits, chewing on his lip. Faust rolls her eyes, but props her elbows on her frame. Even though she couldn’t poke her head out far enough, Lewis understood the sentiment.

“Lewis, look at me.” He drags his gaze to meet hers. Faust’s eyebrows soften, and she heaves a gentle sigh and leans out a bit more, letting her curls fall out and touch the dirtied ground. “Being dead is tough, trust me, I know. Being in your shoes is also hard, and I can’t imagine how much it’s hurting you to deal with what happened.” The almost condescending tone- something Lewis knew he was imagining - made him flinch, averting his gaze to the painted tree in Faust’s background. He almost regrets sharing all of his backstory with her, and if he knew she would have this tone most days, he would have kept his mouth shut.

“The house is ready to accept you, and so are all the occupants. We will stand behind you every step of the way.”

Lewis grimaces, but nods. There wasn’t a point in fighting her right now. He had a good feeling all of the other portrait ghosts would be on her side too. It only makes sense. Lewis did accept the role as the new owner... he just had to take control, let his power manifest.

Now if only it wasn’t so hard.

Clicking her tongue, Faust straightens up. “Worry not, Lewis. You don’t have to do it this instant, the moon is still out and clearly you aren’t in the right state of mind. Now...”

A distant familiar clacking of metal grew nearer. As two suits of armor step into the entrance of the hall, they cast Lewis a worried look. One that Lewis doesn’t return, instead opting to glare at the stained rug.

Faust continues, “I think it’s time for you to go back to sleep. We will figure your abilities out tomorrow.”

Lewis follows the guards up the steps, and then up another. The wall paper, bricks, and windows full of moonlight blurs together until it accumulates into one door. His door. Leading to the single highest room in the entire mansion.

The guards take their stand on either side of it, nodding to Lewis carefully and not waiting for him to nod back before stilling.

“Thank you, sir Clive, sir Ranveer.” Lewis murmurs, pushing open the door and stepping in.

The room is simple, despite the elegant state one may expect. An old, wooden bed frame, scratchy wool blankets and a silk top sheet. Light pink curtains that flutter in the open window. Lamps on either side of the bed that didn’t actually turn on.

His room, and yet far from it.

Pulling the blankets aside, Lewis crawls into the bed, nestling his face against the pillow and pretending like he couldn’t smell the light stench coming from it.

Tomorrow he will take hold of his power, and he will make this mansion his home.

His home, for him and all the spirits already residing within it.

Lewis’s eyes moisten as he falls into his ‘slumber’. Praying for no nightmares.

“Im going to take the lower path, why don’t you two take the other... don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine! I have Mystery.”

“Dont cling to Lewis too much Ar...”

The moss and slimy green walls reflected like a million eyes. All watching. All staring.

Even as Lewis peered up at his own hand, clutching his torch, knowing what was to happen... he wished more than anything that he could simply turn around.

His stomach drops, his blood runs cold. The sudden halt broke his fall, his spine bent oddly and digging behind his bellybutton.

Cold. Cold. Yet so hot.

Empty. Yet rushing. A river, but still. There was so much light at first, and then it was so dark. Growls, howls, screams of every kind...

Loneliness.

All he wanted... was for them to come back. Save him.

Of all the memories Lewis had to revisit, why did it always have to be this one?

There was still gaps, such as the moment when he hit the spike, and when he forced himself up. How he even did it, Lewis wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t focus on that when the gaping wounds in his chest filled with with and stung from the cold.

His legs still ached from the stillness and the fatigue, and from the exhaustion of being awake despite dying. He wobbled far, tracing his dead fingers along slimy walls and against currents of chittering laughs. Then the constant thought. A mantra. Over and over. Come back for me. Come back, please.

Wake him up from this bad dream.

If only he accepted that it wasn’t going to happen...

He didn’t know where he was going, nor how long he was going to walk, but Lewis didn’t stop until he was face to face with a tall metal gate that shined unlike the eyes in the walls.

The rusted lock doesn’t break, but Lewis pushes through like jelly.

The staircase was a nightmare. Transitioning from cave stone to proper granite the higher he ascended. All while the prickling sensation of being watched crept up his back and urged his weak and heavy body to move faster.

Lewis ‘wakes up’ up with a shallow gasp. Eyes wide, he pants. Slowly turning his head, a layer of sticky sweat clings to Lewis’s face. He wipes it away and peels back the blanket, crawling out of the bed as the lingers of his ‘dream’ fights to hold the forefront of his mind.

His friends... they still haven’t come back for him. The guards would have alerted him if they returned to the cave, and Lewis would have been rushing out the doors if he heard the familiar engine.

They weren’t here. Lewis isn’t sure why he kept expecting them to suddenly show up.

Pushing himself to move, Lewis hops into a float and drifts to the door. Figuring that he may as well show that he has a grasp on some of his new abilities, now he just needed to realize what his main skillset was.

The guards lead him down the flight of stairs, past the library, and the office, and to the largest room in the mansion.

The living room was filled with an air of elegance, even if covered in dust and mildew. Several portraits line the walls beside the mighty fireplace, and leading to it was two long couches and an even longer coffee table. Book cases sat in between the tall windows, and smaller spaces left unused seemed to act as their own mini lounge, with a smaller bookcase, chair, table, and lamp.

Lewis compared it to a community center before, but now it felt like a stage.

More guards file in behind Lewis, with Sir Clive and Ranveer taking their positions behind him. He could feel a heavy, although gentle pat on his back from Ranveer.

After that, the dozen or so smaller, formless and colorless ghosts fly in and take their seats on the cushions.

The fireplace before him seemed to smile at him. With its decorations acting as its wise and considering eyes.

A line of sweat slides down Lewis’s cheek. Now wasn’t the time for stage fright, but his legs lock up in their floating position. He inhaled slowly.

“Psst.”

Glancing over, Lewis catches the soft, affectionate smile on Faust’s face. She tilts her head. “You got this.”

Lewis balls his fists, ”Do I? I really didn’t expect everyone to gather for this...” he admits.

“We know.” The portrait of the priest, Father Zachariah, responds. He gives Lewis a stern look, reminding Lewis to stand straight. “We didn’t want this to be a private affair. If you are really taking over this mansion like you said you would, then we have to right to partake in your awakening.”

“Aw jeez, give the man a break, will ya?” Another portrait, Terri to wrestler reaches out and fists some of Zachariahs robe, glaring at him. “Can’t you see he’s nervous?” He then says, throwing out his hand in a grand gesture toward Lewis, who shrinks back slightly.

Tamaki, the attorney, rolls his eyes dramatically and pinches his brow. “Lewis, I can assure you this isn’t a judgment, quite the contrary. We knew that it would have been hard for you to do this on your own, so we are providing an ample amount of support throughout the activities. Do you understand?”

He nods, unsure how else to respond, although the exhaustion made Lewis want to join the spirits on the couch and take a long nap.

The two portraits of shadows, Haseeb and Ameena, also nod in tandem. “Yes, Lewis. Infact, since you enjoyed music, we wanted to bring out the excitement.... I hope you’re okay with that.”

“Speaking of which,” Faust pipes up, leaning out of her frame and narrowing her eyes at the spirits sat on the couch. “Weren’t you all supposed to grab your instruments? Where are they!”

The colorless ghosts jump and flash past Lewis in one synchronized movement, before rushing back just as quickly. Returning with old violins, cellos, flutes, clarinets, and trumpets. Two more lag behind, with a cymbals, and one final one dragging something heavy. He turns, eyes widening as a singular spirit drags a *piano* from a closet he didn’t remember being there.

”Hold on, I’ll help you.” he says before realizing he was moving, that is until he floats past to the other side of the piano and bracing itself underside. Only for the spirit to send him an anxious look.

Oh.. it’s probably too heavy for them to also lift. Lewis spots the mini orchestra and waves them over. ”We need more hands, come over here and help up.”

Abandoning their instruments, several more spirits rush and brace the other side, allowing the piano to be lifted and carried earlier.

“Yeah you deadbeats! Why do you need his command to get a move on?” Terri calls, anything but cruel however. Deadbeats... that’s an interesting term. Lewis faintly ponders as he sets the piano down, before going to retreat the stool.

At the same time, the living rooms doors open, and the puny skeletal gardener drags in the painter spirit.

“Rye! Thank you for fetching Elora.” Tamaki says.

“Oh eff off,” Rye responds, plopping down on one of the chairs and sinking down. “I was busy trying to save up my energy for tonight’s show. You want there to be flowers, right?”

Flowers?

“Yep, thats why the windows are open. Let’s wait until Lewis is prepared however.”

”N-no need to wait, I’m ready now,” Lewis squeaks out, clearing his throat as he turns and takes in the grumpy strawberry looking gardener.

Rye bobs their skull and spins away from him, “Fantastic.”

She raises her arms, and in a swift motion, glows the same ripe red color as her dress. All at once, the windows are swarmed with vines. Green foliage spilling in, connecting across the ceiling, draping and tangling amongst the curtains, and wrapping around the stone busts on the bookcases. It happened so fast that Lewis couldn’t react. Instead he gaps up at the magnificent display, watching as floral arrangements burst, forming meticulously designed patterns along the entire room.

When he finally tears his gaze away from the display, Lewis is met with calm, expectant smiles.

“Ready whenever you are, bucko.” Rye pats his arm and reclaims her seat, leaving him in the center of his imaginary stage.

Now, his anchor beats twice as fast, almost overwhelmed by all of the effort, all the eyes sim directly at him.

Pressing his finger tips together, Lewis wets his lips. Several heads tilt as they wait.

Clearing his throat, Lewis lowers his head,”... I’m sorry. What am I supposed to do first?”

Faust gasps lightly, the first to realize their crucial mistake. Ignoring Terri’s chiding, she clears her throat.

“Of course, Lewis, the first thing we need you to do, is concentrate on your internal thoughts. As you do, try to figure out which emotion or feeling is more prominent.”

A single note plays from the deadbeat sat at the piano, followed by the violin, and a growing hum from the others who hadn’t begun to playing. Lewis’s heart skips a beat, and he bites his lip as he closes his eyes. The piano continues, the notes floating through his mind and striking chords that were far from forgotten.

A new set of voices fill in the emptiness between notes, running alone side the piano and dancing along with the violin. A flute begins, and Lewis sharply inhales.

He loves music, he always has, it always made him want to dance. Grab the first person in arms length and pull them close, whether it be the waltz or a swing, it filled him with warm laughs that always spread across his face in a smile. A familiar tingle fills his arms, and Lewis is sure that he can feel Vivi in front of him, swaying as they listened to the music. The warmth grows as she fills his minds eye. Her soft scarf tangled in between them, how her skirt swirled and swished as she spun and dance, leaving him warm in the face and his chest full of bubbling warmth.

Warmth. He felt warm.

That certain warmth fills his hands, tingling at his finger tips and running along his scalp.

The room smelt faintly of decay and staleness, but a memory envelopes him, and Lewis is in his families kitchen. Dancing in place and singing at the top of his lungs with his sisters twirling around him. Cinnamon, garlic, sugars and herb fills his nostrils. The lavender and sweet floral in the air elevating the smells of their garden which he pranced through many times during the warm summer nights. The bonfires, the flare of heat from the oven, the thick humidity in a late evening as Lewis arm wrestles with his much scrawnier friend.

The warm spreads up his elbow and all along his back. Before Lewis knew it, the singing, the music grew loud, amplifying as more instruments add to the mix, and as his own voice joins them. A crash of the cymbals becomes the splash of the beach, and the laughter chittering along with it.

His heart races, and the warmth becomes hot and exhilarating as he recalls the endless nights of fondness. Of redness in his cheeks from drinking alongside his friends, on his tongue as he taste tests his fathers latest recipe, and the swell of pride upon seeing Cayennes first ballet recital.

Pride, love, happiness.

Spastic notes become fireworks. Blasting, rocketing, exploding across the night sky. It becomes the crash and crackle of buildings as he and his friends rush from burning buildings, away from spirits whose voice booms too loud. The warmth spreads to his legs, in the ache of running, carrying his friends over his shoulders in a desperate need to escape. As his heart burns in the terror of thinking they were hurt. In wanting to slam his fist into the fiends face for daring to threaten his loved ones.

The guards dance with him, metal clacking and sparking. Lights spot the area as Lewis shoots out his arms and pulls one in against his chest to spin in tandem, before releasing them in a dramatic flourish.

Anger, fear, the need to protect.

His friends, his family.

The loves of his life-

Lewis opens his eyes, and the passion fueling his movements die in an instant.

His hand glows, his arm flaring. A line of fire burns away from him, pink and flaming and just as excited as he was. Gasping, Lewis tears himself away, slipping and hitting the ground. The music screeches to a halt all at once. Everyone freezing.

“Lewis, are you okay?” Faust calls out, gripping her frame as if she were going to rip herself out of it. Concern warping her face, along with the other portraits, the ghosts, everyone.

“You were doing good!” Terri says, “don’t tell me you got cold feet!”

Tamaki nods in agreement, “it’s truly delightful to see you smile for once. I was worried we would never see it.”

Shoulders tense, Lewis’s eyebrows furrow.

That... was him?

Baffled, Lewis holds his hand in front of him, and sure enough his palm was glowing. He tenses the muscles, and he jumps as a small flame puffs out at him.

”I- wait, seriously? I did it?”

“Yes, you did. Marvelous work, Lewis.” Zachariah hums approvingly. The warmth- embarrassment and concern- floods his chest, before Lewis is smothered by smiling deadbeats swarming him in a hug. Curling around him and nuzzling their formless heads against his.

His legs twitch as Lewis rises, floating naturally instead of jumping this time, and becoming upright.

Everyone is smiling at him, faces warm and bright with delight. Warm with the same sentiment, that it was time to make this his home...

He knew it, they knew it, that had to be the entire point of everyone gathering. Not to help him, but to watch him accept them as his new family... leaving his old.

Leaving his family, and his friends...

Faust is the first to speak, eyes crinkling. “Are you ready?”

What about Vivi? Arthur? How is he going to be there for his sisters? How can he keep his friends safe if he can’t be there for them. He can’t abandon them. Because they won’t abandon him. They wouldn’t. They’re coming back for him.

”No. I’m not.”

The disappoint was clear by the stilted air. But no one argued with him. The deadbeats had sunk, their instruments hitting the ground in shock, before being lifted up and taken back to their proper places. The vines retreat and retract, and quietly, the spirits all left the living space. Even the first place seemed to grow cold, if that was even possible.

Lewis didn’t say anything to the portraits when he left the room and raced upstairs to his tower of solitude. The same thought racing through his head again and again.

They’re coming. They will.

Soon. Soon...

Soon...?

Feeling trapped and terribly homesick, Lewis crawls under his blankets. His eyes sting from moisture that shouldn’t accumulate in the sockets, but he wipes them away anyway. Pulling the blanket over his head, Lewis curls into a ball.

Why did it hurt so much reject them? Why did it hurt so much to hold off for so long?

What was he expecting? For Arthur and Vivi to pull up in their bright Orange van and pull him out of the bed, pull him into an embrace, and into the van. Whisk him away so he can embrace his mami and papi, kiss his sisters and tell them how much he missed them.

Why was he even holding out hope? They arent coming back! Why would they...

Arthur killed him... Lewis’s arms shake and he grips the blankets. Arthur shoved him off that fucking cliff with a smile on his face. He should be grateful for anyone to accept him into their family.

He wanted to slam his fist into his gut, to direct the pain from his aching chest. Lewis wanted his eyes to stop stinging.

But he couldn’t. Home was where they were, and he has been thrown away.

Lewis fell into a half sleep, living through the same memory of his death again and again. Watching as his nightmare loops with his life being torn from his grasp with a single push.

That one moment of inaction, the one second of trust. And now?

Lewis is dead.

The memory looped for a fifth time, with Lewis desperately searching for an escape from the grip of reality, when the universe finally gives him one.

An engine. It’s not loud, and it rattles lightly. Lewis pops awake, disoriented from the jarring switch from the cave to his bed, but he disregards it.

Tearing the blankets, an adrenaline thrashes through him. Warmth, heat, rocketing through him. It burns his soles as the impossible dangles right in front of him.

It can’t be, is it really them?

Are they here for him?

Lewis’s anchor skips a beat as he almost falls down the first set of steps. Before he hits the steps face first, his body vanishes in a burst of flame and reappears with a running start at the bottom. The halls wake up with the pound of his feet and his heart, and Lewis forgets that others lived on this decrepit mansion as he races to the main stairway, leading to the front door.

He expects specks of blue, yellow, and white to meet him there. For smiles to spread across their face as they run to swallow him in a hug.

Lewis freezes. Heart going still. Heat draining as he takes it in...

There’s four people, who he hardly recognizes, except for the role they were trying to play as they whisper amongst themselves.

”This place wasn’t here a few days ago.” “do you think it’s a trap?” “Do you think anyone’s here?”

Paranormal investigators...

They start to wander, poking at the busts and pushing open doors, unaware of Lewis staring at them.

It’s not them, his friends aren’t coming.

Now strangers are in ... in this mansion, disturbing the people who have been nothing but kind to Lewis.

The need to protect returns, strong and lashing as his fists ball up, tears stinging his eyes.

Teeth grinding, heat pools into his hands, and fire spits out like sparks of electricity. Finally grabbing the investigators attention as he stomps on the first step. The fire crackles, leaving a singed footprint in its place, but Lewis doesn’t care. Focusing on the bug eyed look of the four intruders who back away in mounting terror as the flames rise.

Breath coming out in hisses, Lewis growls. ”Get out.”

It was enough to send the four scrambling for the door, the engine roaring again as they undoubtedly piled in. Just in time for the suits of armor to clamber behind him, looking around in shock until they see him.

The furious gaze didn’t die upon seeing them. No. Except Lewis turns away from them and floats to the bottom step, theres a strain on his body that extinguishes the fire in his hands, but that didn’t matter.

Lewis rounds the corner, leaving a trail of smoking fire pits in his wake.

Until he’s stood in front of the fireplace, the hearth that he was instructed to simply light it to accept his place as the homes new owner and protector.

His first family protected him, but his loved ones ended his life. Now it’s his turn to ensure the safety of the only family he may have left.

Lewis’s arm wavers as he lifts it up, a ball of fire burning his palm and spitting in every which direction as he glares at the fireplace, whose glass doors open wide.

The flame shoots out, and upon making contact with the bricks and wood, the entire mansion lights up in a magical blast. Transforming peeling wallpaper to freshly striped, strewing chandeliers in every room it could fit, burning away the rot and leaving the floors warm and spotless.

Everything around him changed in an instant, but Lewis doesn’t see it.

His anchor hits the ground with a soft clink, hot to the touch and wet with tears.

#lewis pepper #msa #mystery skulls animated #mystery march 2021 #eage fanfic #does any of this makes sense? beats me #I’m lowkey out of spoons lolll #Portrait ghosts #ocs

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spideysmjs · 4 years ago

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Kiss list #41, pls?

Thank you!

41. Kisses shared under an umbrella.

A/N: I got kind of carried away with this one.

MJ zips up her windbreaker all the way, snug at her neck as she pulls the hoodie over her dead. The forecast did not predict a storm in Queens today, and after coming out of her late shift at the Ray’s Bar, dealing with obnoxious drunkards all night, the downpour of rain is just the biggest, most dreadful cherry on top of a weird day.

She finishes locking up the doors, waves goodbye to her co-worker, and heads in the opposite direction on the way home.

Immediately outside, MJ faces the harsh reality that she’ll wake up with a cold. Luckily, she’d laced up her most endurable pair of combat boots so her feet wouldn’t feel squishy in her socks. She makes a mental note to buy an umbrella tomorrow.

Just as she thinks her night is finally over, begging a higher power to allow her to make it home safe before the sunrises, she hears a body slam against the brick wall of an alley she passes every night.

Great.

MJ knows exactly who it is, and her curiosity can’t help but force her to check if he’s okay—even if he doesn’t know that she cares. She really does and not because he’s the local hero: Spider-Man. MJ cares because she knows him as her old friend, Peter Parker. That piece of information is also withheld.

“Hey Red,” she greets him. He’s curled in fetal position after a bad hit to the body. “You promised me last week you wouldn’t scare me at 5:30 in the morning anymore.”

He laughs weekly. His lenses whit uncontrollably. They’re broken probably. “My favorite Queens native.”

“That’s a big title. You meet just about everyone.” She offers him a hand and he takes it despite the fact that he doesn’t need assistance. The touch makes her feel warm. She forgets that her entire being is soaked with the unpredictable weather. “Why’d you hit a wall?”

“It’s so insane, M-friend.” He tries to catch a slip that MJ has already caught. They don’t let go of each other’s touch. “My lenses started short circuiting, so I panicked. Focused on that instead of my next web.”

“Are you okay?” MJ asks, though she knows it’s a stupid question.

“Are you?” he ignores her answer, finally slipping his hand away from hers. “You’re all wet.”

“I could use a lift home. Or an umbrella.”

He chuckles, muffled beneath the mask. “I could do that.” He bends his knees, patting his thighs. “Hop on, stranger.”

“You know you could call me my first name.”

“That would require me knowing it.”

She smiles, swinging her legs around him, the movement so familiar now. MJ’s lost count of how often Peter could catch her on the way home from a closing shift. “MJ.”

“Nice,” he says, mumbling into her neck. The rain makes his suit extra slippery, so she wraps her legs tight and he can feel his hands gripping around her body even tighter. “I’m Spider-Man.”

“I didn’t know that. You know you ha-“ she gets interrupted, a scream escaping her lungs because she’s still not used to being launched in the air.

She wants to smack him upside the head for making fun of her, but he whispers, “I got you.” and that’s enough to make it okay.

MJ keeps her eyes shut for the duration of the swing, as she always does, but the timing feels shorter when her feet land safely on the ground. When she opens her eyes, she sees them in front of a bodega. Peter says, “Wait right here.”

Her back presses against the glass of the open bodega. She picks at her chipped black nails and watches the rain splatter on the street with a soft bounce back. When he comes back out, he displays her an umbrella. She rolls her eyes, fond and soft. “Thanks.”

“Ready to walk home, madam?” he offers his arm to loop around after opening the umbrella. She takes his arm. “It’s just around the corner.”

“You know me so well,” she laughs. “One of these days I should let you inside.”

“Oh?” he asks. “Well–that’s.. that’s okay. I’m just being a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.”

“Right,” she says.

There’s a silence for the rest of the way back, her face burning underneath the umbrella as their arms are linked and their footsteps synchronized. MJ wants to tell Peter she knows it’s him, but a part of her wants to wait, a part of her tells her there’s another time she can do this. A better time. A more predictable time, unlike the weather today.

When they reach the steps to her apartment building, she faces him.

“This is yours.” He offers her the umbrella handle, and she takes it, thanking him. He brings his finger to her nose and taps it once. “Now get out of those wet clothes and take a hot shower so you don’t get sick.”

Then, it slips. “Thanks, Pete.”

“You’re welcome MJ.” A beat. “Wait.”

She laughs. “I didn’t mean to say your name.”

“It’s okay,” he spazzes out. “You just-how do you-since when?”

“High school. When I had a crush on you.”

“You had a crush on me?” he asks, surprised, almost incoherent. MJ nods, her grip on the umbrella handle tighter, her heart beating too quickly for her own comfort. His hand cups her cheek. Her free hand brushes up his chest and to his neck, finding the opening of the mask.

“Can I?” MJ asks. He nods gently, and she lifts his mask just above his lips. “For safety, you know.”

“I know.”

She places a soft kiss on his lips, but his mouth is open, and he takes her all in. It’s funny how there’s a clap of thunder as soon as their bodies connect because that’s exactly how her stomach feels. MJ didn’t expect to be kissing Peter Parker underneath the umbrella that he bought for her.

Then again, she didn’t expect the rain either.

#my writing #spideychelle #peter x mj

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cosmiclatte28 · 4 years ago

Text

WayV Costume Party (Hendery x you)

Okay I have to admit I am head over heels with this Hendery and Ten. So bear with me as I make a fanfiction work with them looking pretty.

Here we go, my fanfiction after getting a dance practice video of WayV wearing princess costumes. Yeah these men are shouting "Break the gender rule, we can look nice in princess costumes but still dance like a man."

Enjoy!!

"So, what are you wearing to the party?" your best friend Ten asked when the two of you walked through the hall to go and get your lunch break. You exhaled a long breath, "I wanted to come as Tinkerbell, but you know Hendery was forcing me to be his couple." Ten threw a "I see something fishy there" stare at you, "Wait now you two are a thing?" You punched his back, "No way what are you saying?!" The gorgeous man pretended to get hurt from your light punch, he exaggerated the pain and you could punch him again if Lucas did not come in front of you and hold your hand. "Thanks Lucas, this girl here is torturing me!" Ten moved to hide behind Lucas' tall frame. You rolled your eyes, "What? Now I am the bad guy." "What's wrong with you two, come on the group is waiting for you and we're starving." Lucas practically dragged the two of you to the dining hall. There you saw the other 5 members waiting with dishes in eye sight. Lunch went well, no one is sharing what they will come as, but that will make the party more interesting. You got home after a long class of Geography and Hendery has waited for you to walk you home. Well Ten was right, there was something fishy between the two of you. He hasn't really asked you out for being his girlfriend, but he clearly was stepping over the "friends" line. Since two months ago, Hendery had been asking your schedules so he can go back to the apartment with you. You live with Kun, he is still your cousin by blood and he is a year older. Yet Hendery never show his attempt to seduce you in front of the other guys. He was timid at that, you guess. "Hey!" you tapped his shoulder. He was leaning over the wall with his eyes glued on his phone. He shot his head up and smiled at you, "Yay! We did it! Another week of school is over!" He cheered. You punched the air, "Yes It's Friday. Where are we going?" Well you're not against the idea of dating Hendery, that's why when the man slowly approached you, you were happy. Hendery took over your bag and he started to walk down the hall, you copied steps and wondered where will he bring you to. He had been going home after lunch just to return and picked you up after your afternoon Geography class. He definitely looked tidier and fresher than you. "I crave pizza and maybe we can go to the arcade afterwards." He raised his brow, waiting for your response and you grinned widely and took his arm into yours while pulling him excitedly to the exit door. He laughed at your enthusiasm for pizzas. He made a good decision to bring you for a pizza date and he won your heart for ordering your favorite Pepperoni pizza. The savory and crispy thin pizza awaken your week end vibes and you were ready to crush the night. You reenergized your tired body and soul, while exchanging stories and coping up with one another's works, the dinner came to an end. Arcade night with Hendery has always been fun, you cannot pass the challenges Hendery made. He was not the best arcade player yet he bet to you for any wish. You remembered his request for the Halloween party tomorrow, the matching costume! You really did not want to come as the character he assigned you as. Now is the golden chance to make the tables turn! "Hendery, I say we make a bet." you eyed all over the arcade, trying to figure out which machine to use, "I say we play PUMP, and the one with lower score will do whatever the winner asked. How does that sound?" you placed your hands over your chest and Hendery only need one glance to the machine just to easily say yes. "I am not the best, but I can do well. Just see." He gave you his motivated look and you swiped the card to play Pump It Up. It's the game where you step the buttons with your feet that synchronously appears in the screen, older people call it Dance Dance Revolution. You chose your favorite song to play on the machine and to make it fair, both of you chose the same speed and level. Pump It Up gave the two of you three rounds in total, so you and Hendery took turns in choosing the song. You didn't expect Hendery to be this good, but we will see how the last song decided the winner. Without a surprise or a twist, you won the last round. Hendery was tired already and he missed a lot of the last notes. "Yay!! I won." you did a celebratory jump and Hendery was looking at you from his tired eyes. "Congrats! I lose, so what do you want?" He brushed his sweaty hair away from his eyes and your eyes were flaming with mischief. "Easy, tomorrow we come to the party but with our costumes switched." You gave him a quick hug and he stood there frozen. "Wait what?!" he screamed after a good 3 minutes of silence. "You heard me right, bet is bet. You come as Rapunzel tomorrow and I will come as Eugene." __ That is how Hendery showed up elegantly in a Rapunzel dress complete with a soft make up you put on his face and a nicely done blond braided wig! He looked so nice in it, you cannot lie that you won't be able to rock the costume as nice as he did now. Maybe this was the right choice. You looked good too in your Eugene costume, but you cannot lie your heart was beating so fast when he appeared from the toilet with the purple dress. "Hey,look at our new couple!" Lucas greeted us in the party. You were more surprised to see that the other boys are also wearing a princess costume. "Wait how?" you pointed at them in confusion. They all laugh, Kun decided to answer your confusion. "Well Hendery called us last night that he lost the bet and had to come as Rapunzel. We owed him a bet too last week and he chose to use it today. He told us to come as princesses too." You clapped your hands, "I mean you all look pretty and great! However your friendship is what I clapped for. I mean that was sweet of you guys to make Hendery happy." They shrugged their shoulders. Well, they also seem to enjoy this and so as the night deepens, here you were. Sitting along with seven drop dead gorgeous men in princess attires and you were the only prince character there. Everyone looked stunning and you never regret being their friend.

end.

aaaa I want to be there too.. not as a princess, but like idk sven or olaf :D

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snkpolls · 4 years ago

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SnK Chapter 130 Results

The chapter poll closed with 1775 responses. This month’s poll results were brought to you by u/staraves, Crunchwrap, Luna, Momtaku and Giovata! Thank you to everyone for your support!

RATE THE CHAPTER

Maybe it was finally getting Eren’s POV, or maybe it was finally seeing the rumbling in nine glorious double page spreads. Either way “Dawn for Humanity” was very well received with close to 70% giving it the highest possible rating, marking this the most acclaimed chapter since chapter 123.

Beautifully drawn and written. I like the teasing of Eren's PoV

Good to see some Eren and Historia (finally!!) but the lack of answers is really hurting my heart, cmon yama!!

Epic chapter, amazing artwork. And astonishingly, with 5-6-7 chapters left i still don't know where this is going.

Definitely in my top ten best chapters. The ending was gloriously horrifying to read. Also, we finally got some Historia content, which is a big plus.

Cool as hell chapter.

I feel like this chapter wasn’t that great. It kind of gave way to more speculation without giving many concrete answers. The things that it DID answer felt like stating the obvious.

Tease me more, daddy Isayama

This chapter most likely is the best i've ever seen. So many answers and sooo many questions left behind. This chapter directs us to think about the previous chapters and obviously ISAYAMA'S THOUGHTS. That thing makes me happy. I'm very grateful.

Death is on its way, ladies and gents. Also the end is almost here. What the fuck is going on? I just want some answers about E V E R Y T H I N G (especially about Eren's psyche).

Is there a singular word for the feeling of a mosquito bite?

WHICH OF THE FOLLOWING WAS YOUR FAVORITE MOMENT?

“The revelation of Eren’s freaky final boss form” was our favorite moment (22.7%) followed by “Eren’s POV finally! Sort of?” (15.8%) and “The rumbling! At last!” (13.4%). “Historia and Eren’s tense discussion on the farm” came in fourth (11.6%).

Fuck yes! Erens back!

Our Queen has finally returned!

The whole chapter was building up to the reveal of Eren's titan form, and I enjoyed it.

Finally back at our one and only true hero Eren.

SWIMMER TITANS ARE NOW THE GOLD MEDALIST FOR THE SWIMMING CATEGORY IN OLYMPICS 2020 special edition

FINNALY HISU POV, even if it’s just a flashback. Honestly I’m just happy to see her again, becuase she’s my favorite character, and even if the flashback gives more questions than answers.

loved zeke-eren bro talk

everyone who thought that Floch was lying in charter 125 are 🤡🤡🤡

reiner tiddies

WHO WAS THIS CHAPTER'S MVP?

“The colossal synchronized swim team” made an impressive showing (28.5%) but their majestic moves across the ocean were not enough to topple Eren (53.6%) for chapter MVP. Historia (8.1%), Zeke (5%), and Annie (3.5%) also received some love.

EREN IS THE GOAT

Eren is the worst boy in the world.

EREN JAEGER GENOCIDAL MANIAC

I really missed Historia, so it was nice to see her.

can the rumbling start a synchronized aquatic dance?

WHAT DOES THE CHAPTER TITLE "DAWN FOR HUMANITY" REFER TO?

I thought of it as some sort of "End of the world" titling.

Dunno; but it doesn't really work if the rest of the world gets rumbled, does it?

I want to see the japanese title to decide

Eren wants to kill “animals” to give a new life to “humanity”

A dawn, or a beginning of a new day, has arrived. Whether this new day is a good or a bad one for humanity, we do not yet know. Everything is still possible, but once this day is over, the world as we know it is no longer here, for better or worse.

A new age for humanity is incoming. The story will end as a tragedy with Eren achieving his goal.

Dawn means the start of the day. So I think the start of the rumbling will be the start of humanity for this world. I think we started to see this with the world fleet being there to try stop eren. I believe every country is helping people flee regardless of race. Maybe I'm just too idealistic.

Ce chapitre fait reference au fait qu’eren est pret a tout pour sauver ses amis

Eren will achieve his goal (end the cycle of hatred)

Hope for humanity outside the walls. Dawn for me is something like hope, even if today was a bad day, tomorrow, after dawn, things might get better. Maybe the Warriors-Paradis alliance will somehow reach Eren and stop the Rumbling?

dunno but got the vibes of ‘it’s darkest before the dawn’ might be a tip for a change coming

Eren has now officially started eradicating the world and also it's dark ideas against people on paradise and conquering freedom for his people and that is why this moment onwards is "the dawn of humanity "

Dawn for Eldians to be exact. Dusk for Marleyans.

Finally defeating Eren, ending the curse of Ymir and freeing everyone from the shadow of Titan powers.

Dawn of Terror? Dawn of "What The FUCK Is That??" Dawning that the remaining places of humanity are to be trampled?

It could refer to a ""dawn"" for the alliance, who intend for neither side of the conflict to be eradicated, as they believe everyone is part of ""humanity"". Despite their deliberation at the beginning of the chapter, the fact that they're finally setting sail to stop Eren is testament that they've not lost their hope in the pursuit of this ideal, hence they can be interpreted to be the ""dawn"".

Eldians in Paradis Island being free from the wrath of outsiders and being avenged

I think it refers to a new beginning a new start for the eldians living on the island or it can be used as an ironic way that the humanity outside the walls is going to end so it's complete destruction hence the beginning of the new cycle

The Rumbling & Historia's child, humanity's destruction and its rebirth

Continuation of "End's Eve" as this is the dawn of the day where humanity fights for its continued existence

"Dawn" refers to Humanity's realisation of many things. Eg: how Eldia is not a weak nation, how the Rumbling wasn't a lie, how people are people and they are all the same - wanting to live and shedding the same blood no matter what nationality they have. "Humanity" refers to those still alive and realizing these things.

Dawn of the final day - 24 hours remain

WHAT ARE THE FUTURE IMPLICATIONS OF ANNIE DECIDING SHE'S TIRED OF FIGHTING AND NO LONGER WANTS TO STOP EREN?

Despite learning that her hometown is doomed, just over half of respondents feel confident Annie will stay the course and continue to work with the alliance. Among the rest of responses, 27.4% think this will trigger Annie’s exodus, selecting “Annie will leave the alliance and try to be with her father,” 16.9% believe this will cause Annie to do something stupid resulting in her death, and lastly 4% of the fandom believe this bad news will trigger Annie’s homicidal instincts causing her to switch sides and join Eren.

Annie saying she didn't want to have to be prepared to fight mikasa, Connie, armin, jean, Reiner and eren again made me feel sad for her ;-;

I just wanna say that it wouldn't make any sense for Isayana to bring Annie back and then write her out so it's obvious she will continue in the alliance lol (but I don't really agree with any of the options offered, I think she will decide by herself to stay)

Poor Annie's breakdown made me feel terrible for her. I still think she wants to leave but I think there are chances of the Warriors and/or Armin convincing her to stay and fight. As one of the nine shifters, she kinda has the responsibility to fight, even if she doesn't want to, and I get completely why she doesn't want to, poor thing. I have a sneaky suspicion that she might choose Porco's way out and we might yet see a new holder of the Female Titan power. :(

WHAT WILL BE THE FATES OF THE ELDIANS IN LIBERIO, SPECIFICALLY THE WARRIORS' FAMILIES?

When asked about the residents of Liberio and the fate of the Warriors’ families, a combined 58% believe that they are alive for the moment selecting that they were evacuated (39.3%) or else managed to escape (18.4%). Close to 30% aren’t so optimistic, believing Liberio is flattened and they are dead. We also had plenty of write in responses:

They are going to die, but I can see Annie meeting her father and die together in each others arm by the rumbling. It's sad I know, but it would be a fitting end for both of them :(

They are probably arrive. Either they overcame the Marleyan authorities that tried to surpress, or The Rumbling avoided Liberio entirely. I just doubt they would kill off Mr. Leonhardt offscreen.

They may have started to fight the Marleyans and then ended up flattened by the titans since they didn't escape earlier.

They took a ship to the south and we will meet them including Reiner's family and Mr. Leonhart.

Am I supposed to feel sorry for these people? I don't. The Warriors don't deserve happy endings for everything they have done.

Bands of survivors have made it out but Annie will meet her dad when he is dead or dying

some died while revolting, some are alive, annie's dad is wounded

They're currently fineish because Eren didn't go where Hange was expecting, hence why all their estimations have been off

I mean, they must be alive somehow. It seemed that there were only soldiers in Liberio and the others evacuated so I'm hopeful that at least Annie's father survived

I want to have hope ;-;

I just want Annie to see her father again, and for Reiner to get what he wants.

What if the city Eren attacked isn't Liberio? I feel like it's too important to be flattened just like that (thematical resonance + too many side-characters like Eren's own grandfather are there) and we're being misled about the place Eren is attacking.

HOW DID YOU FEEL ABOUT HISTORIA'S STANCE ON THE RUMBLING?

Many of us had expectations about Historia going into this chapter. Her initially disagreeing outright with the rumbling but seemingly giving in was a surprise to 8.4% who thought she would have been all for it all along, and 19.9% who never expected her to agree with it at all. 6.4% of you expected her to do the opposite of what is implied, with agreeing at first but changing her mind in the conversation, while 23.3% reported expecting the exact turn of events. However, a huge 41.5% of you aren’t taking everything at face value and do not believe Historia does or has ever supported the rumbling.

DO YOU BELIEVE EREN IS THE FATHER?

After almost 2 years of the fandom fighting over the identity of Historia’s baby daddy, this chapter has finally definitively proven that… we still know nothing. Nonetheless, the narrowly winning belief (37%) is that Eren is the father, closely followed by those who believe he is not the father (34.4%). Some are unsure what to make of the situation (18.2%), and some of you don’t care enough to speculate (10.4%).

there is a TON of hints, him being the father makes prefect sense.

i will bet on my freedom that eren is the father

Historia x Eren ftw!

Eren being the father would be the most meaningful for both the story, as well as for Eren and Historia and their chemistry together if you ask me, though I can accept otherwise.

Whoever disagrees eren is the father doesn't read the manga seriously

I have not any positive thoughts about Eren-Historia's flashback. Just pain, I feel pain for her. I don't get the point to destroy her character like that.

I really hope Eren isn’t the father — it just doesn’t seem right.

I don't believe Eren is the father since it will contradict what he said to Zeke: "I'm only left with 4 years"

Sorry shippers, I don't think we'll ever get a straight answer about who's the father. But I kinda prefer it that way, because then we'll each get to decide what we thinks is correct.

IF YOU DONT STOP THIS I WANNA MAKE BABIES WITH YOU

Still don't care about who's the father

Who is the father?

HOW HAVE YOUR FEELINGS ON THIS CHANGED DUE TO THIS CHAPTER?

35% went into the chapter thinking Eren was not the father and 30% believing he was, with this chapter doing nothing to change their minds. For those who were affected, this chapter influenced 14.2% to join the team #DaddyEren and 5.6% to burn their membership card. The remaining 15% don’t care enough to speculate.

If Eren is the father, I think it's possible Historia wanted his baby to keep a part of him with her after the rumbling is over, or perhaps it was an attempt to make him want to come back when he's done or even not commit genocide.

why does everyone keep saying Eren is the Father confirmed? There is literally no evidence to support that, and it actually contradicts Erens statement when Zeke discusses Mikasas feelings towards him.

I just want Eren to be the father

Historia's pregnancy smacks of her own plan but I'm not sure Eren is on board with it.

I want confirmation on the father cause if it's not eren ima be pissed off

don't care who the father is, whole world is ending.

I can't stand the mystery surrounding Historia's pregnancy anymore, this is worse than serum bowl.

WHO THE FUCK IS THE FATHER

SO THEN WHAT'S THE REAL DEAL WITH HISTORIA'S PREGNANCY?

“What’s the deal with Historia’s pregnancy?” Jerry Seinfeld asks. But we cannot answer – we can only sustain ourselves on memes and ship wars. Despite Eren and Historia’s somewhat uneasy conversation, a solid third of you are still pretty sure that Eren is the baby’s father. A little over a fifth of you think she did the dirty with Farmer-kun instead. And another fifth is convinced something else is going on (watermelon baby?), but aren’t sure what. Some of you scream to the sky, sick of all the drama. And a few of you wouldn’t rule out a baby created through PATHS. It might be Ymir’s doing! No, not that Ymir. THAT Ymir.

Historia is playing 5d chess I just know it. I just don't know how yet

Why'd Historia act like that if Eren wasn't the father?

ymir is the father

Eren has to be the father for the good dev of eren & historia characters

I really hope the pregnancy thing is just a red herring, but it wouldn't be the first-time Isayama appealed to fan-service if not.

If I see more speculation on whether Eren is the father I'm gonna puke. I mean how about focus on the real story? Like how the world is about to be destroyed??

We need more Historia. We literally need her POV for the story to make sense right now. I can't believe that with ""5% of the plot"" left Isayama is *still* pulling this all this time? There *has* to be more.

I always knew Mikasa was the father

WHY DO YOU THINK HISTORIA IS PROPOSING A PREGNANCY?

Despite a majority of respondents believing the pregnancy is authentic, there is no consensus as to why Historia would propose it. The most popular answer when asked was “I don’t know” (32.2%). The remainder of the fandom is split between Historia proposing the pregnancy in support of Eren (23.1%), as part of an alternative plan (21%) or as an act of defiance against Eren (17.6%). Only a small percentage (6.1%) believe she actually wants a child.

What the hell is the pregnancy for? It doesnt make any sense for Historia to suggest that all of a sudden

How did getting eren and historia's conversation make things more confusing😔Like what went through historia's mind when she thought of having a baby i-

What if the "what if I have a child" scene with Historia actually happened EARLIER than the rest of the conversation? It would explain why they switched places, and if Eren really is the father, would explain why he feels he has such a say in Historia's child's future ("even if you agree, I don't" ) , and why when he spoke about the MPs he said "WE have two options: fight or run". It would also give him a motivation to oppose his friends, since they are trying to stop him.

I don't see his conversation with Historia in romantic light. She was scared of him and Eren was trying to manipulate her with her own words about being ""the worst girl on the world"". We still miss some important parts of their conversation, but if she agreed to help him because he reminded her how ""the worst girl"" she was, then I would be very disappointed. I saw her as strong woman and I hope she will not turn to be a mild sheep who isn't brave enough to follow Ymir's wish and ""live her life with pride"" (or ""live sticking her chest out"").

I have no idea for which purpose Historia want to become pregnant, but I'm glad that I was right that she decide it for herself and doesn't get forced at all!

Historia has a trick up her sleeve and I can't wait to see what it is.

WE LEARNED WHAT ZEKE REALLY TOLD EREN ABOUT THE ACKERBOND. ARE YOU SATISFIED WITH EVERYTHING WE HAVE LEARNED ABOUT THE ACKERMAN CLAN?

75% of the fandom wants more resolution to the Ackermysteries with 38.4% wanting MOAR and 32.3% wanting at least a little more. Only 22.3% are satisfied with the ackercrumbs we’ve been tossed and 7% have no opinion.

love guru zook

ackerman bond means LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!! sweet for all ackerman related shippers ohhhh

I'm satisfied to see yet another example of people trying to pin eren's BS onto zeke (with the ackerman theories) be proven completely wrong

Mikasa's charachter wouldve been a lot more interesting if her ackerman genes had an effect on her decision making and her trying to overcome them would be a lot more intriguing to see. Instead it turned out to be some lovey dovey pancake bullshit. I mean what would Zeke even know about Mikasa??

WHAT IS UP WITH HISTORIAS PREGNANCY AND ACKERMANS BLOOD AHHHHH

I think the fact that the Ackermans can access the Paths without being shifters is going to be super relevant. My pet theory is that Mikasa will be able to cross into the Paths dimension to kill Eren and truly free Ymir Fritz, but let's see how that goes.

HOW ACCURATE WAS ZEKE'S ASSESSMENT OF MIKASA'S FEELINGS TOWARD EREN?

One of the few areas of agreement in this chapter was with Zeke’s assessment of Mikasa’s feelings towards Eren. Close to 80% think that despite having never met Mikasa in person, Zeke correctly understands that Mikasa’s concern for Eren has little to do with genetics and everything to do with reasons of the heart. However, the majority of people who took the option of writing in their answer cited both as a factor in Mikasa’s bond.

Eren, when your sadistic and bloodthirsty big bro can see how much Mikasa loves you, you probably should take it seriously lol

Zeke. Is. Big. Bro

He's a lying liar who lies.

usually when panels sway to the right, they are true, so I believe this is the case.

Did anybody honestly not already know this? We learned nothing new from this as far as I'm concerned.

Mikasa really cares for Eren but the Ackerman genes amplify her love for him.

Everybody's emotional attachments have some basis in biology. It doesn't make them any less real or meaningful

we learn Zeke ships eremika 🤔unexpected but naice

The ackerman blood does boost her physical abilities but i believe it doesn't affect her mentally (she probably has ptsd and seperation anxiety)

What is between Eren and Mikasa?There is something we still Dont know.I wish for more Mikasa....

I think the bond itself is clearly related to her trauma but the intensity of it probably has more to do with her Ackerman genes

Both ? Even tho Ackerman genes could have a big part in it

I think Mikasa loves Eren but it's not JUST romantic or JUST familial.

Her devotion is strong on its own- but her Ackerman abilities definitely have played a role in her saving his ass all these years.

Very accurate, he is Love Master Zook.

Only a fool believe that shit regarding Ackerman bonds and so on. [...] The hate speech I believe is some kind of Eren pathetic attempt to release her of her feelings towards himself, just in case the worst scenario is coming up in not too far future.

The Ackerman instincts amplified her love towards Eren.

Zeke was right [...] As much as Mikasa being ready to snap titans necks in two for Eren is due to her love for him, Eren being willing to go through with a world genocide to prevent Historia's sacrifice definitely results from his love for her.

HOW DID YOU FEEL ABOUT THE PLACEMENT OF FLASHBACKS DURING THIS CHAPTER?

The majority of the fandom really enjoyed the inception-like flashbacks, but 1/5th just found it confusing as all hell. A sixth of the fandom is just fed up with Isayama blue-balling us. We’ve been in this relationship 10+ years, Yams, it’s time for you to give it up!

Loved the interwoven flashbacks, and made sense considering a lot of the "unknown" conversations(Eren with Yelena, Floch, Historia....) all tie into each other. Made sense to them like this, and plus there is still some mystery from his talk with Historia.

E-H convo should've been shown months ago; now is not the time for flashbacks.

Just Yams trolling the shippers

The confusing flashbacks also reflect Eren's state of mind. The placement was well done.

I don't mind it, but i feel Isayama was, to a certain degree, struggling to work all of this information organically into the story, so he was forced to choose this flashback method to get it out there.

The juxtaposition is very purposeful, while I don’t necessarily like what it implies, it is indeed impactful.

The way the flashbacks were placed would look amazing in the anime, but in manga format it looks a lot more confusing!

People might say this is Isayama being mysterious and showing us everything but revealing nothing as he always does, and yeah and if this was 10 chapters ago I might see that as a positive, but this late into the series it feels like it was just a waste of a chapter.

They were good because they connected with each-other; though I had to reread the chapter several times to distinguish who was talking because it flipped so much.

These kinds of chapters are slightly annoying in the moment, but are more than worth it in the long run.

The Historia flashbacks are confusing af

WHAT IS THE MEANING BEHIND EREN IMPLYING HE "WANTED THIS", REGARDING THE FUTURE OF THE RUMBLING?

Continuing Eren’s ongoing theme of the question of free will and determinism, this chapter presented us with the possibility that Eren wanted everything that has happened from the start. Depending on your interpretation, of course. The majority of respondents to this question (54.7%) believe that Eren has been convincing himself there was no other possible future due to seeing said future play out in front of his very eyes, and 17.1% somewhat similarly believe Eren did not want this in the conventional sense, and he is an unreliable narrator. A smaller 12% believe this is confirmation that Eren’s vengeful nature caused this, closely followed by 9.5% of you who just think he is a lunatic.

Despite him talking as if this future was fated to happen he still seems aware enough that his own decisions still led to this outcome. From his perspective all of this was meant to happen because he already saw his future memories, but he doesnt deny that the path he took was still by his own will.

Eren said from the start he would, "destroy them all." He hated being a slave. I think he *does want this. He wants whatever will guarantee freedom.

Both future can't be changed AND Eren is a fucking lunatic

Even if the future could be changed Eren preferred the full rumbling

He literally had no option from the very beginning , his actions is definitely justified .

it's probably all the attack titan's will, not his.

he's trying to fool himself into thinking he never changed

Eren has accepted that the future cannot be changed, and has realized that the unchangeable future is the future that he has always wanted

Eren is so close-minded & immature

I've given up trying to understand Eren's logic. It's just too bizarre. I will wait until the story is finished to form any opinion about him.

Eren was bored in his original universe and wanted humanity to have a threat so he made the aot universe via Ymir and became that threat himself.

Even if a significant part of Eren wants to eradicate his enemies out of rage/revenge, really deep down it’s been shown he wishes there was another solution but right now he doesn’t want to admit he’s surrendered to his destiny. So Isayama’s going to come back to this by having Eren admit to himself he isn’t really free/this isn't what he wants, which will be the culmination of his character arc (what will he do then?…).

Eren kinda forgot about the mothers

THIS BURST OF PANELS SHOWS A VARIETY OF SCENES FROM EREN'S POV, BUT SOME SCENES APPEAR TO BE FROM A DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVE OR ENTIRELY NEW SCENES. WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?

Nearly 45% of the people who voted, thought it was a deus ex machina move from Founding Titan by Proxy, which granted Eren a glimpse at all Eldians’ memories. Almost a third think that Eren was actually able to control their memories. 14% of all voters are just “wtf…? I dunno” at all the Pathsnanigans.

I don't know and I don't like it. Hope it isn't another pathsfuckery while all I want in life is KRUEGER'S POV.

Eren's path shit also implies the story has always been bending to that moment too. From the pigs, to even Dina from that Bert shard. If it's ever revealed he orchestrated Carla's death to stimulate Grisha and Eren's hatred, the whole demonisation of RBA gets turned on his head.

I don't like the idea that Eren controlled the Smiling Titan but it's starting to feel more and more likely...

The second one except it WILL come up again cause it’s fucking Isayama like tf do you expect lmao

The new POV scenes are definitely intentional but I hope the explanation isn't some magical PATHS stuff where he orchestrated characters (like Dina's) actions or is suddenly an all-seeing almighty being. Grisha was enough pls.

DUDE, THIS MEANS THAT BIRD HAS P A T H S!

dumb answer choice

FT/Ymir lets Eren see the memories of all Eldians. It will come up again. I don't get some of the angles/perspectives though.

It's possible some of these things haven't happened yet, or that Eren has access to the memories of more shifters somehow. For example, Berthold might be a memory Annie or Reiner have and Eren will receive if he eats one of them while they try to stop him.

I have absolutely no idea what the deal is with the Falco and Bertolt memories but I'm sure they're not inconsistency errors considering the care that went into showing that the Mikasa/Grisha/Levi etc. panels are clearly from Eren's POV. I expect answers really soon (and no, I do not think he controlled Dina’s titan to kill Carla, that would be pure character assassination). Hange's panel looks like it's from the future, as well as Mikasa's unfamous 'see you later'. The geese are also interesting but I have no mindblowing theories about them unfortunately..

Excited to see from where Hange without glasses memories from though.

Eren is the air, the trees, the birbs, everything

Marcel is more like to come back from the dead before I ever understand half the shit inside Eren’s head.

If Eren somehow got his mother killed that'll be the ultimate bruh moment

THIS CHAPTER SHOWED US ANOTHER MEMORY OF FEZ-KUN, FINDING HIMSELF IN TROUBLE AGAIN. WHAT DO YOU THINK IS THE MEANING BEHIND HIS HIDDEN STORY?

The mystery of the Fez persists once again, with this being the tenth chapter since he was first shown. Though by a small margin, the consensus is that the purpose of his story is to reaffirm Eren’s determination to wipe out the world at 44.8%, with 33.4% of respondents believing he will be a tie to Eren’s compassion and remorse for what he is doing, and 17.1% believing it highlights Eren’s inherent hypocrisy for caring for him even though he will die by his actions later. Many write-in options expressed confusion at who this kid is.

Eren believes that suffering and oppression of minorities will never end just by small acts of kindness and simular "passive" acts, like what Levi did, it does not provide a long term solution or prevent Fez-kun'sfrom furder torments, which is why Eren feels like the extreme solution of the rumbling is his only option

Eren gave a mission to Fez-kun

Eren using another kid to get his way without caring about his life. What else is new.

He's the "even someone on the street" part of Kruger's advice to love someone to break the cycle of tragedy.

He’s showing that little boy he has to fight to survive, like he did with Mikasa when they were kids.

I think he found himself in trouble again (he looks to be bruised on the cheek in 120) and Eren will come to his rescue. However I think Eren will not just save him by beating up or killing the Marleyans, but inspiring the Fez kid to take action and "fight" just like he did with Mikasa. This arc has had a lot of focus on the almost inhumane level of violence Eren showed as a kid when killing those kidnappers, so I can see that being for the purpose of a direct parallel where Eren pressured the kid with the fez to stand up for himself.

I think Eren saved Fez-kun of those guys, but then he will kill him later, showing his own hypocrisy (those guys can't do bad to a child but I can).

I expect his shard(s) to contrast the other previously unknown panel from 120: Historia’s shard was revealed to be yet another instance of Eren manipulating a friend by putting his desires above her own, thus robbing her of her free-will. I hope that Fez-kun symbolizes the "beauty in a cruel world"

It show that Eren just have an other plan and not just kill everyone for no reason???? Lest not be that blind :) what esle u want to understund thats an option too? you want isayama to told u?

maybe eren intends for some people to escape when he announced the rumbling which allows people to prepare themselves, idk.

Eren will save their family and he told Fez to lead his family to a certain location that the rumbling won't reach?

What are all these crappy options? He represents Eren’s journey to changing his viewpoint about everyone being an enemy, as he told Reiner.

Just thought he was part of the collage of events, no further meaning.

Who’s Fez-kun

SWIMMING TITANS?

88% of you welcome your Swimming Titan overlords, but 12% aren’t so convinced - there’s a pretty even chance it’s because the image is just too absurd, too terrifying, or a pants-wetting combination of both.

SWIMMING TITANS

swimming titans

Seeing those colossal titans was crazy

The panel of the titan swimming underneath that ship haunts me in my dreams.

HELL YEAH FUCKING SWIMMING TITANS

WHEN THE MILITARY SIGHTS ERENSAURUS AT THE END, RATHER THAN CALLING IT THE FOUNDING TITAN OR EREN JAEGER, THEY RECOGNISE IT AS THE ATTACK TITAN. WHY?

Despite the threat of Eren Jaeger previously being referred to by name or as “the Founding Titan”, this chapter encapsulated the horror of the allied forces as they recognised it as the Attack Titan. The plurality (40.3%) is that this was just for the purpose of Isayama being able to drop a “Shingeki no Kyojin” in this climactic chapter, though a close second option (34%) is that there is historical information to distinguish the Attack Titan from the others. 15.2% of you believe the Attack Titan is the Titan Bogeyman for Marleyans, and 10.4% attribute the naming to the fact that it’s attacking them, duh.

I think the Maryleans/World Forces knew it was the Attack Titan bc of the Eldians in Marley (like Annie's dad) warning them ahead of time. I think once they realized The Rumbling was happening, they asked for more deets from the folks who heard Eren's message in the Path's Realm.

I wonder why the rest of the world was only using Mikasa ships instead of various ships lol

IT CAN'T BE STOPPED ANYMORE

NOW THAT WE FINALLY GOT TO SEE EREN'S SPINE-CHILLING (BADUM-TSS) FORM, WHAT DID YOU THINK?

This manga has turned into a horror show, and y’all seem to be loving it, according to over fifty percent. Thirty percent are aghast at the sight before them, and nearly a tenth of you don’t really know what to think of the Grim Reaper titan yet. Some of you wanted something more fully formed, but this creepy crawly is freaky enough, isn’t it? Let’s just be glad none of us live in Marley right now.

My jaw dropped when I saw Eren’s titan form. Horrific.

I love Erensaurus a lot. This chapter gave the same level of anxiety that Zeke's attack in Shiganshina gave me. Good

YEAH EREN IS SCARY AS FUCK I LOVE IT MORE FREEDOM MORE FREEDOM MORE FREEDOM

Eren's titan looks a little like the earth devil

Did Eren pick the design of his new Titan or did Ymir just give it to him?

Really interested in where it is going especially because Eren's Titan got lips which could be an indicator for it to have the ability to speak

Eren’s Founding Titan form looks like something out of Silent Hill

I'm not saying anything about Eren's titan. What even the actual fuck, Yams

Oh lawd he comin

WHY IS EREN'S CURRENT TITAN FORM A SKELETON WITH NO FLESH?

Eren is looking awfully spooky right now. That’s a good sign, isn’t it? I guess looking like a death metal album cover is better than looking like whatever Rod Reiss was supposed to be. 34.9% figure that as this is probably the largest titan ever, it’s just too big for flesh. It’s not like PATHS sand is infinite, after all. 34.6% think that the form is incomplete because of the missing titan powers; this is only a third of his potential scariness! 23% think there’s no real reason he looks like this. Not an in-story reason anyway. Finally, 7.6% think Eren is still not done forming this devilish beast.

Eren's upper skeleton body thing looks like wings of freedom...

The reason Eren's body was like this, if he was muscular, he would radiate a lot of heat, so the Allience's couldn't reach him. But now, no muscle, no heat. They can reach easily.

Eren's form is creepy as hell! I also think he might be dead/dying/the titan now.

Seriously, how the fuck does Eren's Titan move?

When a shifter generates a titan body, they need to have a special task or purpose in mind. Is Eren's titan meant to be a bridge between Paradis Island and the continent?

WHAT IS ISAYAMA TRYING TO SAY WITH THE PUPPET-LIKE MOTIF OF EREN'S TITAN?

Many have noticed the puppet-like strings connecting Eren’s torso and head to his stegosaurus spikes in the final panel (though not in the first shot we get of Eren -- we’ll just ignore that), but what does it mean? Him being a slave to himself (38%) just edged out him being a slave to fate (36.7%), with a slim minority (3.3%) believing Ymir could be the true puppeteer. Of course, there are the 21.9% of you who are remaining steadfast in the belief that Eren is NOT a slave, he is FREE.

He is a slave to the future memories and instead of trying to find a different way, he is convincing himself that this is what he wants from the start to compensate for how little freedom he has.

He's trying to justify to himself that he isn't a slave

Eren is a slave to that sweet sweet feeling of self-righteous rage.

Ymir might be acting through Eren.

I think eren has become a vessel for ymir and it's ymirs will that we're hearing.

WHERE IS EREN'S HUMAN BODY MOST LIKELY RESIDING?

The results for this are a mixed bag, with the three most popular answers extremely close in votes. It’s most agreed upon (29.1%) that Eren has no human form, and has merged with the Titan on some level, with a close second (28.8%) being him being separated from the Titan but not in the conventional sense, and using the Warhammer Titan power to operate it from the ocean. 27.9% of you believe he is in the standard position of the nape, and only 14.2% of you believe the head of the Attack Titan could be his true location.

So, does Eren now only have his head left or was he fully healed thanks to Ymir?

where is Eren (No,not his titan)? There is no nape on that thing, just bone

I NEED TO KNOW HOW EREN IS TRANSPORTING HIMSELF

THE CHAPTER ENDS WITH CHILD EREN'S DETERMINATION TO "DESTROY THEM" OVERLAPPING WITH ADULT EREN COMMANDING THE RUMBLING. WHICH STATEMENT IS THE MOST ACCURATE REGARDING THIS COMPARISON?

This curious panelling choice ends the chapter, giving us a peek at Eren’s inner monologue – but in true Isayama fashion it’s not clear exactly what it means. 45.6% believe it shows that Eren hasn’t fundamentally changed the way he views the world, his will and titan powers giving him the means to influence it. 26.4% think it’s a reminder of Eren’s tragic tendency to believe that peace cannot exist without the complete elimination of an opposing force. 16.8% think it demonstrates Eren’s willing or unwilling continuation of the cycle of hatred and revenge. Finally, 9.1% think there’s a hint here that Eren’s childhood self was cursed with thoughts from his future mind.

ALL OF THE ABOVE

All of the above, minus the P A T H S.

I hate eren do the same thing as what he had been through

It's Eren's tendency to lose himself to the desire for vengeance, which in the mange is always depicted as leading to a catastrophe in the end.

His childhood trauma comes back to him when he sees a loved one die / about to die and feels the powerlessness of having been unable to do anything because of being weak. Then pain and anger return for this reason

It's a parallel showing his determination to fight back against those who would deny he and his comrades their freedom.

It is once again Eren reassuring himself he's doing what's right, by telling himself that the cycle of hatred is what's causing this and that he needs to break it

The thoughts are child Eren, simply overlapping with the current situation. It may not be adult Eren’s thoughts.

THIS BITCH CRAZY.

I just want to say that the history is repeating its self . What we thought it was the past it's actually the future

He is using this memory of his mother being eaten to motivate himself, like a main drive. It's not the first time. Anger/Rage was always the main drive that he used to keep fighting/seeking for freedom

This is already similar to some of the options presented, but I like the idea that this is showing deep down he is driven by his childlike rage, and as much as he tries to convince himself it's for his friends, he really just wants to revel in violence because he's broken and he thinks wiping everyone out is the only way he will be at peace.

THIS CHAPTER ALSO PRESENTED US WITH TWO ALMOST DICHOTOMIC MOTIVATIONS FOR EREN, BETWEEN LOVE FOR HIS FRIENDS AND HATE FOR THE ENEMY, BUT WHICH DO YOU BELIEVE IS THE STRONGER DRIVING FORCE?

The two most powerful and conflicting emotions driving Eren right now have the fanbase somewhat split over what pushes him further. It seems that most are optimistic about Eren’s prime motivation being the wellbeing of his friends at 59.7%. Meanwhile 40.3% believe that Eren’s love for his friends has been eclipsed by the roiling hatred and thirst for vengeance within him. Even at this point in the story, it’s hard to be absolutely certain – safe to say Eren is a real menace when he feels this strongly about anything.

I feel like I finally fully understand Eren's mindset, even though there is probably still more to his POV. He just wants his friends to be happy and live long lives, so he had to push them away especially after Sasha's death.

This chapter Eren can't disentangle love from fear/hate/loss due to what happened to his mother, which is why his feelings about his friends now manifest so destructively.

Eren's memory chain went from remembering his friends smiling, to Sasha's death and Fez-kun being beat up, and eventually to his mother's death and his vow to kill all titans, showing that deep down he knows his motivation to protect his friends is bullshit and that his "enemies" are mostly innocents, but he keeps moving forward due to hatred and revenge.

Eren has never healed his trauma. It was "eating" him slowly and turned him into this he hated the most - a devilish monster.

I think the chapter settled very well that revenge surpass even his wish of protect his friends

The transition to Eren's pov and the fact we didn't learn anything new beside some basic confirmations, is really strange. And if Eren ends killing the friends he wanted to protect, he will be a complete disappointment. I really am afraid of SnK's ending.

"I want my friends to live long happy lives" he says after treating them like shit, breaking their spirit, and partially ruining their home island with millions of titans. I hope he doesn't act surprised when they show up to stop him (assuming they can catch up of course).

I don't believe the word "animals" align with Eren's current perspective, nor how he sees his "enemies". He holds the same ideals as he did as a child, but realises the nuance of his enemies and how people on both sides are ultimately the same. He just believes this radical action is the only necessary way to end an unstoppable inter-generational conflict in his lifetime so these problems aren't handed down to future generations anymore.

he's being driven both by hatred and love, but right now his rage is winning and he's using the safety of his friends and Eldia as an excuse to appease his conscience.

ON A SCALE FROM "SECRET PLAN" TO "KILL 'EM ALL", WHERE DO YOU STAND ON EREN'S TRUE INTENTIONS?

This chapter all but confirmed that Eren indeed plans to wipe out the entire outside world for most of the fandom. The majority are skewed towards the opinion of Eren definitely rumbling everything, with less and less respondents holding onto hope that Eren has an alternate plan.

Eren wants this rumbling and he's ready to sacrifice others to get what he wants, even his friends.

I gotta say, I thought Eren would've had a real plan that wasn't just massacring everyone else on the planet. I was already against the plan, but I suspected he'd walk the other side of the ocean and then announce to the world that the existence of titans was no more and destroy all the titans as proof, and all the shifters would just be normal people again.

His goal is to wipe the titans out of this world, and not to flatten it.

I support the rumbling, cause Marley deserved this by trying to eliminate Paradis, but at the same time there are so many good people there(including eldians themselves) that haven't done anything wrong. Military and leaders of marley should be eliminated, but not the poor people that had no choice.

This hateful world is needed to be purged and I support Eren for this. And when Rumbling is over that beast piece of sh** must die by Levi's hand.

I thought eren had a secret plan for the rumbling but after getting his pov this chapter looks like he really is going for it

Somehow, I can't shake off the feeling that we still haven't seen 100% of Eren's plan, there is still some twist waiting. I am not trying to justify Eren's current actions, it's more like ""if there is something that will throw this whole scenario upside down it better come up soon, because right now IT DOESN'T LOOK GOOD"".

I want to believe thtat Eren has a secret plan in the rumbling but the chapter says that this is what he wanted, he had always been like this, he was always “free” sadly, he’s enslaved by his beliefs of freedom that he resorts to these drastic measures.

I think that this chapter confirms two things: one, the Rumbling is Eren's true plan [...] BUT two, there is "something beyond that hell", which is the "scenery" Eren says he saw in ch. 121. I think it's the endgame after the Rumbling is stopped (no way is it going to be completed), and it's what caused both Grisha and Historia to go along with his plan in the end even though they didn't agree with it and thought it was awful. Eren's "everything is still ahead" and the weird cut in Historia's flashback are too... strange and seem to point to this being a game changer and the final plot point of the series.

If the rumble will succeed, then I've spent 7 chapters seeing characters do nothing to accomplish nothing. I don't wanna feel my time wasted.

I unironically want Eren to kill everyone outside the walls. Nuff said.

WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THE REPEATED BIRD IMAGERY?

Birds are a focal point of this chapter, with the combination of a four-panel tracking of a soaring seagull and a flash of a memory of some nearby geese. The majority of respondents (62.5%) believe the birds simply tie into the theme of, and likely Eren’s motivation of freedom. In a distant second (20.9%) is the answer that it relates to the idea of everyone being connected under the same sky, a fitting motif amidst this chapter’s exploration of the conflict as well as unity of different groups. 12.7% of you are hopping on board the “Eren is a bird now” train, and 4% of you just really don’t like birds.

The two birds from the Paths panels appear in episode 1 of the anime iirc, not sure about the manga though.

Eren is bird confirmed thank <°^°>

I like the Bird Theory that says he’s transferring his consciousness to a bird. yeah it sounds a bit odd but it’s interesting and I’m willing to accept anything at this point

The birds are secret surveillance cameras

I like birds

idk man this shit is confusing as hell.as for falco thing i think eren has become the bird. anything can happen at this point.

Eren is the Eagle we see in the chapter 91 that Falco says to fly away lmao

THIS CHAPTER HAD SOME AMAZING ART, SHOWCASED IN THE MANY DOUBLE SPREADS (EXACTLY 9... OH GOD WHAT DOES IT MEAN ISAYAMA??) WHICH WAS YOUR FAVORITE DOUBLE SPREAD?

Whether it was the break back in May, or Isayama’s dedication to highlighting this chapter’s importance, the art has definitely taken a step up and blown us all away. Though it is very split, the final double spread showcasing the commencing of the rumbling garnered the most votes (18.2%). At second (15.7%) was the imposing silhouettes of colossal titans rising from the ocean, and at a very close third (15.5%) was the very next spread, of these titans wiping out the battleships as casually as if they were wading through seaweed. If there’s one thing to make of this from what the winners have in common, we have all definitely been waiting to see the rumbling for a while.

Isayama's improvement as an artist it's inspirational.

the art is god tier

Those Rumbling pages are so gorgeous they make me wanna say "Kill them all, Eren ! Destroy the fucking world !"

Mappa has their work cut out for themselves

MAPPA's fucked lol I hope they're up to the task.

That Attack Titan spread has the single GREATEST bit of shading in this entire manga.

Solid Art, phenomenal design and usage of double spreads

I just wanted to add that this is visually one of the most beautiful chapters I've seen in a while. The colossals, holy shit. I can't wait to see this animated. All of those double-page spreads were pretty fantastic but I have to say there's nothing quite like the chill that runs down your spine when you see all those colossals emerging from the smoke and the mist, where you see for the first time how huge and terrible they are (and also when you realise the first line of defense is already down). I had legit goosebumps.

CHAPTER 130 MARKS THE END OF A VOLUME, WHICH HAS BEEN FILLED WITH ALLIANCE-FOCUSED CHAPTERS. WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS NOW THAT WE'VE FINALLY RETURNED TO EREN?

After six consecutive chapters focusing on the alliance with no Eren, the majority of you (57.6%) are relieved to finally move beyond the alliance, though have enjoyed the recent chapters, with 20.4% being completely over the alliance. 7.4% say they were originally sceptical but the chapters did well to make the alliance likeable to them, and 14.6% are open to more chapters just focused on the alliance.

Please for the love of God more of this and less of the alliance, the alliance was so rushed and as it's continued it hasn't been developed much further beyond plot convenience. The less of that I have to read before I get to read amazing stuff like 130 the better

i wanted more on the alliance, not flashbacks smh

it was something enjoyable after a while. Especially 126 made me grimace all over the volume till 130 came up. Not saying I was waiting for Eren but it was so cheesy.

Eren chapters are written worse than Alliance ones

This chapter single handedly made up for the below average, cringe-inducing chapters 126-129 Alliance bullshit. I have faith Isayama will create a very satisfying ending for this series now.

This chapter was legit a great way to end the volume off, it truly feels like its really the beginning of the end

DESCRIBE THIS CHAPTER IN ONE WORD

The top 5 write-ins are below, followed by the average chapter score for each description. This months’ average chapter score was 4.59.

Amazing [4.89]

Epic [4.84]

Eren/Ereh [4.69]

Rumbling [4.46]

Confusing [3.88]

Honorable mention: Ragnarok

We’d also like to mention that there were a lot of write-ins related to genitals and coitus… seems like y’all were really hyped up by that first fanlation >.>

WHAT ARE YOU MOST HOPING TO SEE NEXT CHAPTER?

Despite this chapter theoretically giving us everything we had hoped for in a while, the responses show that we still want to have WAY MORE answers (34.6%), MORE Historia (16.9%) and MORE rumbling action (14.5%). We’d also like to know where on earth Zeke is and if Floch is going to be the little troublemaker that we know and have strong feelings about. Will the boat make it to Odiha? Will Levi do a thing? Stay tuned!

There's still some mystery that have yet to answer and I want answers

Where the fuck is Zeke

WHERE. IS. LEVI.

i want more eren, historia and zeke. They're interesting. I don't care about the alliance.

"Zekey-dekey-doo, where are you?" ...I'm so done with you guys.

need update on zeke and historia's situation.

I want it to end soon #TeamEren

I expect in the next chapter something more around the alliance and maybe (hopefully) Floch's comeback!

Enough of Hisu, she is just a side character.

Want more Rumbling

All I can say is, I'm beyond anxious to see how the series ends, and it's eating me up inside.

WHERE DO YOU PRIMARILY DISCUSS THE SERIES?

Most of our lovely respondents are rambunctious Redditors as usual, followed by a fair few from the flock on Twitter, distinguished Discorders, and discussors who want for nothing. Then there are some ravishing real-lifers, titillating Tumblrites, ...aaaand the rest (you’re all great). We’re still side-eyeing you Snapchatters though.

ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS ON THE CHAPTER?

Honestly I just wanna let it out, but not on google Poll for obvious reasons

Not about the chapter... but you guys always come up with funny answers that I feel compelled to chose even if it’s not really what I think. I love to answer this. Thank you!

Zeke the relationship expert, huh?

This chapter went through far too many dodgy translations for its own good, and even the official typeset had one big mistake in it even though it conveyed the mood of the convo between Eren and Historia far better than all the others.

this is all so confusing I miss erwin

I don't want genocide to be how this ends. I believe Isayama doesn't intend a story this complex to send a message that genocide is great. Considering some of the mindscrews he's already pulled via Paths, I'm hoping the best mindscrew is yet to come.

Reiner was a snacc

Historia the Antifascist Queen

This is the best chapter

this series is so great man

This whole chapter was a certified Bruh moment (in a good way)

This whole chapter was about Eren dehumanising. And he killed his mom. I wouldn't be surprised if he'll eventually want to kill all Eldians and his friends either.

Loved everything except for Historian's forced reluctant pregnancy.

Here's to 3 more weeks

I hope Eren doesn’t love anyone from the series.

I feel like Isayama is still increasing the pressure to help his final plot twist, I’m still lost as I really don’t agree with Eren’s actions while I see the fandom going crazy over him. Maybe I missed something, maybe I’m wrong, maybe I don’t fully understand Eren. This chapter felt good, I don’t hate the Alliance because they’re part of what I think is the right choice for humanity, but we all honestly wanted to know Eren’s thoughts or a bit of it, as we didn’t see him for a while. English isn’t my first language I’m sorry in advance, loved your poll

I honestly have no idea what's going to happen and the whole time I was reading it I was internally screaming.

Ok I know Ymir (the lesbian) has been dead for years but I miss her so much. She was the dad. Forget Farmer-kun, forget Eren, it was all Ymir.

okay no offense but where’s Levi ☹️

One big tease of erens pov and who the father is

One of the best chapter I ever read! Love it!

Didn't expect the Eren POV but welcomed it anyway. We now have confirmation he wanted everything that happened to happen and even the implication he orchestrated the death of his own mother. That's very tasty

Eren's pov has been hidden for too long and right now I don't think the payoff is worth it

eren exhibits bird behavior & he killed his mom 😕

Eren is a bird confirmed or some shit

Eren later takes Ymir's place in Paths as a sacrifice for many years to fix everything, learning everything he needs by traveling around as, say, birds, as needed to send to his past self to guarantee "that scenery"

Eren is in control of more than we previously thought and this shows evidence of a timeloop scenario

Eren can see the future and can probably manipulate the pure titans at different points in time like the Founder does. It's also likely he's gonna fuse with more shifters to visit other pieces of memory.

Eren is able to use the full power of the FT, that why he can see not only his own memories, but also the memories of other Eldians. All of them are connected to him after all.

He will turn into a bird in the end

So exited that we finally got to see Eren in his Founding Titan-like form!!!! Can’t wait for next month (AoT fan from Japan)

Enjoyed the chapter due to a return to debating the morality of the Rumbling, and seeing it in progress. Also tend to enjoy interaction between Eren and Historia. However, I think the chapter is slightly let down by being cryptic. It's hard to tell what is going on with Eren due to how scenes from this issue and others can be interpreted.

nah mate do people actually read this?

This chapter marks something that has changed everyone's thoughts. Not just about Eren, but Annie, Historia, Zeke, etc. We heard them speak differently, and got a few answers to our questions. We got to see that Annie does indeed have emotions. That Historia did not want this. That Annie never really wanted to kill, nor does she want to anymore. That Zeke actually cared for Eren. That the father is most likely farmer-kun. It's one of the best chapters we've had. Each chapter we get, we get closer to the end of this wonderful story. I can't wait to see what Isayama has planned for in the final chapters. Truly hoping for the best!

reiner's tits dammit

Despite the devastation, I now feel like there is meaning hidden beneath the madness

Creepy and interesting chapter. The official translation confirms further that Eren is going to destroy the world. I’m hoping that the next volume shifts focus to Reiner a little more. I’m also excited for more loose ends to be cleared up.

Damn, only 5 more to go before the end of the greatest story of all time

Enjoyed it but I’m really hoping for some more insight into what’s going on with both eren and historia, I’m not a huge fan of the pregnancy subplot

eren just wants to see if marleyans are made of cake

Eren makes the most amazing villain ever. Will go down as one of my favorite characters ever if the story ends how I hope it will.

Everyone forgets Historia saw her dad’s memories without eating him, without being a shifter, and without touching Eren. We’re still waiting for the payoff...

Fantastic chapter, though it felt really short

Floch was Eren's lieutenant all along, he was his representative, and his actions are therefore Eren's responsability all the same. Get fucked those who didn't want to believe that Eren would consciously choose Floch, believe in him or to set things up for Eren in Paradis.

I'd like it if the Ackerbond was not as supernatural as it was claimed before. Not because of EreMika, MikaHisu would be much better than both options of this chapter. Now we know that Levi or Kenny's loyalty were real, and it warms my heart. Also, my bastard wasn't lying! He knew about the plan.

It confirmed everything we already knew: Historia didn't support Eren's plan, Ackerman weren't slaves, Mikasa's feelings for Eren doesn't have to do with the fact she's an Ackerman and the fandom is stupid for still believing Eren is the father despite him literally telling Zeke that he can't answer Mikasa's feelings, because he only has 4 years left to live.

My heart was beating so hard during Eren and Historia's conversation because I just couldn't believe we were actually seeing her again, it had been 2 years since we got anything this relevant from her and I also just really wanted Isayama to get on with it and tell us who the damm father was so that we could finally move on to other things. I still don't believe it's Eren, but I'm done with that theory, man. No more teasing, please. Two years is far more than enough.

Chapters like this one, which perfectly captures the culmination of Eren's entire journey, make me glad to be alive at this moment in time to experience Isayama's masterpiece. I'm not ready for this story to end in just one more volume.

The ending of this story will not be a gentle tapping of the brakes but a screeching halt followed by hydroplaning and crashing into a ditch

What if the rumbling is all one big sex reveal party for Historia's baby and the Colossal Titans are arranging all the corpses into a female symbol or something.

For 8 months I have been waiting for Eren Jaeger. My favorite fictional character ever. He comes back in best way possible, wow.

Great chapter, too bad half of this dumb fandom misunderstood it and are falsely claiming it confirmed Eren as the father. *facepalm*

Obligatory mention that eren is a manipulative bastard and is a little too far gone in his goal

Ambiguity: The chapter. More questions than answers, no way this ends in 4 chapters. Overall we are all going "Wuh?" like Historia after this chapter.

We are being fucked with.

I cry, eren has been one of my favourite characters in the AoT universe

I didn't think it was possible for Eren to get any worse, but he always manages to surprise me.

I don't care about eremika or erehisu. I just need my rivaere (: haha

i don't care for the alliance and the ship-baiting was making me weary. I just want more eren, zeke and historia. They're the interesting ones.

‏I don't know what the end will be but i know it will be sad ending!..We all suffer and I mean the world of AOT and the fans who read manga... I will accept all probabilities and the death of heroes, but please do not make Mikasa kill Eren..I mean after all this love that will kill him .. I read many analyzes of the possibility of this happening and I see it as a very bad and irrational end..It is not logical at all..If you did it, the AOT would be one of the worst deeds and to the landfill..Isayama If you have suffered a lot in your life and childhood, we have also suffered in our lives, but please do not bring this suffering into the AOT world

I dont want this to end @ isayama

I hated what direction this story was taking, now I really hate it.

I just feel Isayama hasn't answered so much stuff yet and has also raised the stakes so high that I can't possibly imagine how the story will end. I believe Mikasa's slowly been established as the character who will defeat Eren, but I have no idea how she'll do it... But at least there were beautiful Mikannie crumbs, so I'm happy af and hope they'll have more scenes together now that Annie's about to give up (I mean, there are parallels™ everywhere when it comes to our wonderful lost girls...)

I just hope it's building up to a really good ending.

i just wanna know what's gona happen next man this shit be driving me crazy

I love everything! I hope floch dies though

I love you eren

I need answers!!!

I need Zook back

I really hope this series doesn’t end with a message like “genocide is necessary for peace” I hope someone stops Eren

I really loved the art and double spreads, and seeing Eren's POV after a while

I think it's the 2nd best chapter we've gotten this arc. The 1st being 123. I loved it. I also think it's putting to rest the secret plan theories regarding Eren. I've made my final prediction for the series. I think it's a tragedy that will end in Eren destroying the world & manipulating everyone's memories except for Historia & Mikasa & a new age for humanity will begin.

I'm so glad my girl's back, but I'm confused as hell. There's definitly more to her meeting with Eren and her choosing to be pregnant, we'll see. Also Zook being a love conselor and having a Ackerman phd was hilarious, I love him even more. Erefloch canon.

If he wanted to protect his friends why didn’t he just forge some Marleyan passport/citizenships for them, god wtf

If you think about it we actually didn’t learn anything that wasn’t already heavily implied

im shook

Isayama gave more than i wanted my heart can't take it.

it was very good thank you for asking

It's finally moving forward (as isayama likes to say)

It’s a good chapter but I still with doubts.

JUST DO IT EREN

Just wanna see ZEKE

Kiyoger Theory!!!!!

l'm glad we got to see a bit from Eren's POV. But I still need more answers ;_; why choose rumbling, Eren??? not looking for justification for his actions here but i just want to know /why/ he did it. Still feel like theres a missing link somewhere tbh.. I just hope the ending of snk wont be a disaster like game of thrones where Daenerys' switch came out of nowhere. At this point I just want the series to end asap, the tension build up is killing me lol.

Leaks for 131 when?

Let’s get rrready to RUMBLEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!

Loved seeing the rumbling but I wish we could have gotten more character driven moments

Loved this chapter! I'm glad we finally got to learn more of Eren's POV and finally learn what was Historia's role in all of this (or at least beginning to learn her involvement in the plan). Seeing him initiate the Rumbling was epic. The destruction is about to begin!

my brain is too small to understand some of these theories

Now we know that Eren and Floch just pretending to follow Zeke's plan ever since from the beginning but I want to gain more explanations of Eren's secret plan

Oddly placed Eren flashback, but I'll take it

Something's up. I'm still not convinced we can take any of this at face value.

So many flashbacks were a bit hard to follow, but it really seems like the series is gonna end soon and I’m a bit nervous about how well any ending will play out

thank you Isayama for this masterpiece

THE ART IS JUST AMAZING but for me its so short 😭😭😭

That Eren with mid long hair is baby

the alliance has come together way too fast and theyve only really had 1 dispute so far. there needs to be more conflict to make it more realisitic. I think annie saying that they won't be able to/don't want to kill eren is foreshadowing this.

the Art is amazing but flashback scenes were a little mess

The chapter was full of messy memories, so it symbolized Eren's brain well :)

I think that now I understand Eren better. I used to believe he had some secret plan, but the true was always there - Eren is not any master mind. His plan was simple - destroy the whole world. The trauma he had after losing his mother has never been healed. It was always in him, growing bigger and bigger. He still cares about his friends, but he is also lying to himself saying that ""he is doing the rumbling because he wants to see them having long, happy life"". He is doing it because his hatred to the ones who are responsible for Carla's death took control over his heart. Eren is adult, young man but deep down he is still the same, hurt crying child who bears painful memories of losing his mother.

The cycle of war and hatred is saddening. This ain't something fictional, it's something we have always been observing from the earliest human consciousness :(

We all got a big storm comin

We are NOT ready for this shit

we need annie to live longer pls

Well here’s our proof eren is actually going through with the rumbling.

What it would feel like to be Eren right now

what kind of eva BULLSHIT

what the hell is going ON

Where is Floch

where is LEVI

Wheres zeke?

Yams, you're so diabolic. You just want to make the real-life's rumbling with all that "confusing' ship tease xD

Yooooo, we need more explanation about maybe, everything? But amazing and bomb ass chapter though

#snk polls #snk poll #snk poll results #snk chapter 130 #snk 130

56 notes · View notes

blackbabybird · 4 years ago

Photo

Forgiven - Chapter 4 - An Event

warnings: self hating bruce mostly and bad words. this is a long ass chapter, #sorrynotsorry kind of got carried away. however, we learn new things more and more everyday ;) also i think isley’s job fits her and bruce v v v well. enjoy:)

I get those goosebumps every time, yeah, you come around, yeah You ease my mind, you make everything feel fine

~ Goosebumps by Travis Scott

I parked my car in front of Cork County Middle School. The school itself was a large brick building in the middle of a corn field. It used to be an insane asylum. I grab my bag and get out of my car to head toward the doors of the school. Once I get up there, I pull on the door. It’s locked. I look at the wall near the doors, they have an extremely fancy security system. I buzz the door.

“Hi there! What can we do for you?” a happy voice rings through the intercom.

“Uh, my name is Isley Thomas. I have an appointment with Headmaster-,” I look down at my phone, “Guille.”

“Give me one second, dear. I’ll get those doors open for you,” her sickly sweet voice came through again.

A second later the massive doors swing open. I’m greeted by two men in riot gear. “Any weapons must be surrendered before entry into property. This includes, but is it not limited to guns, tazers, pens, and ninja-stars.” speaks the large guards.

“Pens?” I ask.

The other guard nods curtly. I shake my head and grab all my pens out of my bag. They take them and put them tightly in between their bullet proof vests. “Follow us.”

What the hell is this place? I walk silently in between the two. We arrive at large double doors with a Medusa head engraved into the doors. The two walk around me and open the doors synchronously. I walk through them towards what looks like the office. That same god-awful sweet voice rings through the hallways, “You must be Ms. Thomas! You’re shorter than I expected. Hm, anyways, follow me.”

So I do. “I never caught your name, Ms...?”

“You needn’t worry about me, sugar. Names get in the way. I’m simply the next vessel for Headmaster Guille. Oh, we’re here! Knock twice then let yourself in, alrighty?”

I nod quickly and do as she said. The room I walk into is white and pristine. Nothing, and I mean nothing is out of place. There’s just a desk and two chairs in the room. No computer or even a cup of coffee, weird. “Please, sit Ms. Thomas.” says a voice from my left.

I sit down in on the chair across from the desk. Slow, loud clacking walks pass me. A woman sits in front of me. She has on black classic pumps, a pencil skirt and a white blouse. I finally make my eyes to hers and that’s when everything starts clicking into place. Her eyes are gouged out in an attempt to recreate Oedipus. “I am headmaster Guille, Ms. Thomas.”

“Thank you for agreeing to meet me Headmaster. I know you have plenty of other more pressing things to do.”

She turns her head, “Why, my dear, nothing is more important than finding one of my sweet, obedient students.” I nod in agreeance despite my weird feeling towards her and this place. “Why don’t you tell me more about yourself?”

“Well, I’m the owner of IT Investigative Services. We do freelance investigative work and are outsourced for police work occasionally.” I explain.

“And your business here, is it freelance?”

I feel my heart dip in a weird way, “No ma’am. The Cork County Police Department needed help and they outsourced me and my company to help with a missing persons case.” It wasn’t necessarily a lie.

“I see.” she says. Her non-existent eyes felts like they were boring into my soul and making a home. “Well, I will say that we told the police everything, not sure what else I could say.”

“Anything helps. Especially when it comes to a missing child,” I say.

“Ask away,” she says splaying her hands outward.

I start asking the basic questions. Just small things I could compare to the recordings that I borrowed from the Cork County Police. Everything was going relatively fine until I seemed to strike a nerve. “So, I noticed that Amos actually lived in Andan County. That’s a 3 hour drive to Cork County. Why was Amos going to school here?”

She opened her mouth a few times with replies, but she eventually settled on, “Amos was a special boy. As are most of the students that attend here. However, he needed correcting. As do all of the students here,” she gives a tightlipped smile.

Now we’re getting somewhere. “Why did he need correcting? Did he do something bad?” I ask simply.

“As with most 13 year olds, he was ill-mannered and bad tempered. He had to be corrected,” she repeats.

“Fair enough,” I nod. Time to go for the kill.“Yet, there is one more thing I’m confused with. Amos was an orphan. One that lived 3 hours away from this county, so who told you he was being a nuisance?”

If this woman had eyes, I know she’d have a look that could kill. Her eye sockets bend slightly. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave, Ms. Thomas. We have an assembly soon that I must attend.”

“Of course, Headmaster.” I say as I start packing up my stuff. I walk to the door, feeling her cavernous holes in my back. I go to pull the door open, but then I stop. “One last question,” I say. She looks up at me, “Who reported him missing?”

Bingo. Question answered.

The smile she gave was cruel and mouthy, “Some questions needn’t be answered. Have a good day, Isley.”

I walk out the door and head back to my car.

///

When I arrived back at my car after successfully getting my pens back, I scrutinized the building. Being in there fucked with my mental state. Something was off about the place and I wanted to know more. My phone starts buzzing. It’s Phoebe so I click answer.

“You bitch! I can’t believe you,” Phoebe’s voice screeches through my receiver.

“That’s one way to talk to your boss,” I deadpan.

“Boss or not, you’re literally the worst person I know.”

I scrunch my nose at her insult, “Let’s say hypothetically that is true, what exactly did I do to deserve such a title?”

“Beside be a size 10 in shoes when I’m an 8?” I roll my eyes, “You also never mentioned that THE Bruce fucking Wayne of Wayne Corporation invited us to a fundraiser in Gotham City.”

I sit there listening to her, “How’d you know about that?”

“I was going through your emails and there’s an invite. Also, pause, you knew?” she huffs.

I shrug even though she can’t see me, “It’s just a Wayne Event. It’s not a big deal. I didn’t even know it was a fundraiser.”

“Yeah, he’s going to try and get the Gotham socialites and old heads to give money for a-,” she stops talking and there’s some slight shuffling in the backgorund, “Ah! A metahuman trafficking recovery center. It would be an extension of Arkham Asylum.”

I feel my heartbeat get 10 times louder, “Pheebs, I need to call you later. I’m still here at Cork County Middle and I need to finish some paper work before I drive back tonight.”

I don’t wait for her to say goodbye before I hang up. I start dialing Bruce’s number.

///

One. Two. One. Two. Jab. Hook, hook.

“God fucking damnit,” Jason exclaims.

“The fight not going well?” I ask.

“Bruce. Manny Herechio has to win tonight.” Jason starts.

“Has?” I interject.

He rambles over me, “HAS. I have so much money on this fight. Like, my future children’s money kind of money!”

I shoot him an amused look from my book. “I’m sure he’ll pull it out. Underdogs have a weird way of doing that.”

“OH MY FUCKING GOD. HE DID IT! HE FUCKING DID IT MAN,” Jason shakes me.

I smile at him, happy that he’s happy, but then the scene changes. I’m now Batman and I’m holding Jason. He’s barely breathing and there’s so much blood. “You did this. You did this to me.” He breathes out angrily.

“Jay, what? No, I didn’t! What do you mean?” I explain.

“You, the fucking Batman of all people, should have saved me. I’m dead because of you!” He’s now yelling at me.

I feel the panic flutter throughout me. I should’ve saved him. It should’ve been me.

The clatter of my phone hitting the floor shakes me out of my daydream hard. Less of a dream, more like a nightmare. The phone goes off again and I grab it from the floor. Isley Thomas flashes across the screen. I press accept.

“Isley? Hello?”

“Have you lost your goddamn mind?!” she seethes through the phone.

I pull it away from me. “I can’t catch a fucking break today,” I grunt out. I put the phone back near my ear, “It’s possible I have, but depends on what this reason is,” I joke.

“This event, party you’re throwing is for the business proposal that was between us privately. What the hell, Bruce?”

I can tell she’s upset at what I tried to make a surprise. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“A fucking surprise? For why?” she all but yells into the receiver.

“I presented it to the board,” I didn’t. “And they didn’t like the idea of Wayne Enterprises being the face of metahuman trafficking support centers,” I explain. “Having a fundraiser will show that people, specifically people with money, are interested in defeating the metahuman trafficking.”

I can hear her breathing. “You could’ve just told me that the board rejected it,” she pauses, “I would’ve dealt with it.”

She’s not incorrect. However, I needed a win for today, “You told me that this was Staya’s dream. I just wanted to do everything I could to try and make it come true.”

She doesn’t reply anything. For a second there I think that she’s just hung up on me. “Okay. Next time, let me know ahead of time, please, Bruce,” is all she says. Then she adds, “I have to work. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

I hear the click of call ending and put the phone down. I bury my face in my hands. I walk to my door and walk to Sonya’s desk. She looks at me with a smile, “Mr. Wayne! What can I do for you?”

“Sonya, I’ll be unavailable for the rest of the day. See that the fundraiser details get figured out. I want to no hiccups, understood?” She nods, typing furiously. I continue, “Perfect. Thank you.”

I walk to the elevator and press floor one. I lay against wall in sheer exhaustion. Between my guilt from Jason and my repressed feelings about Isley, I needed to punch something.

///

I took another sip of my coffee and continued typing on my computer. I was trying to find information about Cork County. “With the way you’re hunch over your computer, we’ll have to get massages before heading to Gotham,” Phoebe said pointedly.

I roll my eyes, “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Fair enough. Enough investigating today boss lady. If we want to make it to Gotham in a decent hour and avoid traffic, we need to go,” Phoebe insists as she shuts my computer.

“I made us a reservation at some fancy hotel. It offered nails too, what a deal. And, ooh, our dresses were delivered!”

“I thought we were going dress shopping today?” I say scrunching my nose at the implication of Phoebe picking out a dress for me.

“Oh no you don’t. We were yesterday at 4, but someone,” she squints at me, “was a bit forgetful.”

I inhale, “Okay, that’s my bad. I’m sorry, this case just keeps making new turns every second. I feel like I’m drowning.”

“Well, tonight, no missing children to worry about.”

I nod and smile at her. If only it was that easy.

///

“Master Bruce, people will be arriving in less than 30 minutes, what on Earth are you doing?” I heard Alfred call for me while I was in the Batcave.

I kicked the bag again. Focus. I kick again.

“Master Bruce?” I hear Alfred again. I shake my head. Focus, Bruce. I kick the bag again. The chain breaks and bag flies across the room.

“That is the 8th bag you’ve broken this week, Master Bruce.”

I exhale deeply. “It’s unimportant.”

“Perhaps to the ghosts of this cave, but not you. Never mind all that. You must shower and get dressed immediately,” Alfred says pushing me quickly towards the stairs.

“Can I at least take the elevator if speed is what we’re going for?” I grumble.

“That privilege was lost once you made me trundle down those godforsaken steps and come get you!” I trudge up the stairs his insistent demands.

When we arrive at the top, “Mr. Maurice, sorry to keep you waiting, Master Bruce is insolent when it comes to other’s time and efforts,”

I shoot Alfred a dirty look at his insults. He simply flicks his hand and I’m being taken by the tailor. Who starts showing me different fabrics and colors for tonight’s event. “What do you feel tonight Mr. Wayne? Navy or Black? I have grey also, but it has not been a fan favorite for the year.” Maurice explains quickly.

I look at the colors. The black always speaks to me, but tonight was different. Because Isley will be there. I ignore my thoughts, “Let’s take a walk on the wild side, shall we?”

“My thoughts exactly, Mr. Wayne!”

I go to hop into the shower and prepare myself for tonight.

///

I can hear the people downstairs. Drinks are flowing and soon enough the cash will be too. I hear my door open. “Only man I’ve ever known to be fashionably late at his own home.” It’s Dick. “Also, I don’t know what the fuck those little sausage balls are made with, but they are delicious. Woah-”

I turn and look at him, his mouth is wide open with the same bits sausage hanging in his mouth, “What? Also, please close your mouth.”

“This suit...who are you and what have you done with my best friend?” Dick jokes.

I just grunt and turn back around fixing my tie. I hear Dick’s laughter stop, “Okay, I’m sorry, here let me help with your tie. It’s more crooked than Cobblepot’s teeth.”

He fixes my tie and I can’t help but think about Jason. Dick searches my face, “You been thinking about him?”

I turn back to look in the mirror to inspect the knot he made. It answers his question. I know he wants to say something, he just doesn’t know what. No one ever does. “Master Bruce, Mr. Grayson.” Alfred’s voice turns us both around. “Almost all the guest are here. It is time to make an appearance.”

“Well, thank god I didn’t throw the party. I’m gonna find some pretty ladies and some more of the sausage balls.” Dick chippers happily and leaves this room.

Alfred turns to do the same, but not before saying, “Mr. Todd is a great man. Just because you’re choosing to move on, doesn’t mean you’re forgetting him.”

“Don’t you mean was?” I ask.

“No. I meant is. What’s that saying you always tell the board members when you’re not present? Oh, yes, physicality is not the only way to be present.” With that Alfred mules out of the room.

I follow after him. I make it down the stairs, “Man of the hour. Mr. Bruce Wayne.” I hear some rich old guy yell at me. He grabs my hand and shakes it furiously.

I do this for about an hour before I clink my glass and everyone quiets down. “I want to thank you all for being here,” I start, “Tonight was a bit last minute, but I am so glad to have the ability to host such things that bring us together. Tonight is about us expanding Arkham Asylum to host those affected by metahuman trafficking. Donations, as always, are tax deductable and can be written to the Wayne Corporation. Again, we are going to make a difference.” I raise my glass and every one claps. “But please, keep enjoying the booze, gives me an excuse to buy more!” I add with laughter.

I make my way through the crowd towards one of the balconies. There’s just a woman out there. “What a speech,” she says as she comes out the shadows.

It’s Isley, but she looked...beautiful didn’t even begin to describe it. Her hair is straight rather than its usually curls. She has on a silk baby blue dress that ends at her mid thigh. Her dark eyes are blown wide with the chill air and small goosebumps litter her dark brown skin. “Isley,” I breathe out, “Thought you bailed on me.”

She turns her head like a curious cat, “Me? A flake? Never.” she says with fake ingenuity. “Although, I was very late. Phoebe loves to take her time with me.”

My eyes scan her face, “Well, she did an amazing job.” I compliment.

A smile grows on her face, “Why thank you, Mr. Wayne. You clean up nicely yourself. A navy blue suit? How daring.”

“Dick already made fun of me for it, I thought it was time to step out a bit.”

She steps close enough to grab one of the lapels. “Dick? Also, it reminds me of prom. Senior year,” she whispers.

I grab her wrists, we’re extremely close now. “Well, look who I found hiding in the shado- oh?”

It’s Dick, again. I breathe out slowly, “Dick, meet an old friend. Isley Thomas.”

#babyblackbird writes #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x poc #batman x you #batman #batman x ofc

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7spaceace7 · 4 years ago

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Genesis (Annus Path)

Since Unus Annus is ending today, and so many people are having feels right now, I’ve made a sort of...goodbye. No matter if you were here from the beginning, or are like me and started this week to watch videos, this channel wouldn’t be the same without you. Here is the Annus path, and yes there is an Unus path that you can find here

Genesis

Un...

You stirred in your sleep, twisting and turning against your grey sheets. You grabbed a fistful of their soft fabric, clinging onto reality even though you were between consciousnesses.

An...s

The whispers came broken. Warbled shadows from voices you couldn’t place. In one ear, out the other, as if they passed through your entire body. Words weren’t forming, just feelings.

Unus…

What was happening? No light was anywhere, just darkness. You couldn’t tell where time stopped and started. The whispers alluded familiar words now. Were you awake, or still sleeping?

Annus...

Were you dead..?

mem..ori..memen..mor...

The whispers changed, in both your ears. Faster, faster, your body screamed at you to stay awake, stay present, stay at all!-

mementomorimementomORIMEMENTOMORIMEMENTOMOR--

“Gh!” You woke with a start. Blinking several times, you were in a room. Well, perhaps more of an open space? You weren’t sure. But you knew what this place was. Spirals circled in every way you looked. White, black, white, black, deeper and deeper into a vanishing point that escaped your range. It seemed to go on for miles. You must have been still asleep.

“You’re not asleep,” Came a voice behind you.

You turned around, startled. But two familiar faces greeted you. One man dressed in a black suit, the other in all white. Unus and Annus. The whispers from the dark.

“Glad you woke up though,” Said Unus, smiling happily down at you. “Your time isn’t up yet.”

“Actually, your time won’t be up for a long, long time.” Annus affirmed.

“Even though ours ends tomorrow.”

“Yes, even though our time is up tomorrow, which is sad,” He sighed. His folded hands dropped to his side. A small, genuine smile pulled at his lips. “But also exciting.”

A small sniffle trembled out of your form before you could stop it. The tears brimmed at your beautiful eyes, and no amount of blinking could prolong them.

“I-I’m not ready.”

Unus’ expression fell in concern, and he stepped closer to you. “I know, I know you aren’t. Maybe we’re just people on the other side of a screen, but that doesn’t make it any less real.”

“It’s beautiful because it’s real, my friend,” Annus stepped next to Unus, a hand on his partner’s shoulder. He squeezed it tight, then glanced back at you. “It’s bittersweet, it’s hard, it’s emotional. And that’s okay.”

“I wonder who they’re most like,” Thought Unus aloud. His eyes flickered to pitch darkness just after. “I wonder if they’ve grown, too.”

“Oh they’re definitely an Annus. They’re bold, unafraid to speak their mind. They have what it takes. But see, what makes them an Annus most of all is them not being afraid- to be afraid,” Annus paused, then looked directly in your eyes again, a comforting smile dressed on his features. “Being afraid of death is normal. But that’s what we’ve come to teach you how to handle. You’re strong because of your fears and your doubts, and all we can hope is that we’ve helped to show you that. Because even with those feelings inside that make it hard to breathe, you are still here.”

“Your time isn’t up yet,” Unus repeated. “You carry on even when we won’t.”

Without a second thought, you rushed into their arms in the tightest hug imaginable. Small arms wrapped around their waists, bringing you three into a homey embrace.

“I d-don’t want you to leave yet, I-I don’t know if I can do it, I-” Tears fell down your soft cheeks all in a flurry, but they both cut you off.

“You can.” Came Unus.

“You will.” Came Annus.

As if synchronized, the two chaotic beings of the void crouched to your level and wrapped you up in an even tighter hug than before. You clutched onto them as if they would disappear at any moment. In time, they would.

“This life is made of ups and downs-”

“Beginnings and ends-”

“Shut up, I’m talking!” Annus whisper-yelled to his counterpart.

“They need both of us right now!” Unus justified.

“Fine. AS I WAS SAYING, you’re gonna go through a lot before you meet us again. It’s gonna be hard sometimes, and there will be moments when you’ll miss us more than you can bear.”

“You’ll want to see us again so badly, because whatever you face may break you down to bones.”

“But you can’t give up,” Annus said firmly. He squeezed you tight for a minute, then relaxed. “You won’t give up. If we have shown you anything, it’s that you only have so much time.”

“It keeps going and going and going, and before you know it you’ll be standing where we are. You don’t need to cut it shorter than it already is.”

A few moments of struggling breaths and salty tears passed. The two simply held you. But you lifted your head after a moment, a small smile spread upon your shimmering face.

“I won’t,” You started, quivering lip threatening to trip up your letters, but you held firm. “I’ll live my life and I’ll push through, I’ll live it to the fullest.”

Unus and Annus grinned back at you.

“There you go, see I knew you were an Annus!”

“They’re totally gonna change the world.”

“Oh, dude, I know, just look at that smile! They could take on a million worlds and change them all with an iron fist!”

“Or, yunno, not that, and maybe instead they change it in their own way?”

“True, but they still could!”

You simply laughed, wiping away such tears that were now forgotten. Every ending spurs a new beginning, and that is what tomorrow holds for you, and all the rest touched by this channel. They were right. Time stops for no one. Everyone’s place on this Earth is limited. But that’s not what matters. What matters is what you do with your life, despite already knowing the ending.

Memento Mori, yes.

But Memento Vivere, as well.

#unus annus #team annus #Markiplier #crankgameplays #Ethan #Mark #ua #memento mori #memento vivere #mark and ethan #annus #unus #unus annus is over party #Fanfics

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365daysofsasuhina · 5 years ago

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[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Three Hundred Forty-One: A Cave ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Uchiha Itachi, Uchiha Shisui, Hyūga Neji, Hyūga Hanabi ] [ SasuHina, death ] [ Verse: Then It All Went Wrong ] [ AO3 Link ]

They’ve been running for hours.

The fires of the Uchiha compound are long behind them, running atop the surface of the Naka northward. Sasuke still clings to his brother’s back, Hinata atop Shisui’s as Hanabi is slung to his chest. Neji, despite his youth, has little choice but to run.

It all still feels...unreal.

The only two among them truly privy to the goings-on are Itachi and Shisui, both aware of the Uchiha clan’s struggles against Konoha. Since the Kyūbi’s attack only a few months after Sasuke’s birth, the old prejudices against them - fanned by their prior leader - were flared once again. Surveillance was increased, their rights subtly squeezed and redacted...and when they protested, it only got worse.

Fugaku’s months of attempts of compromises were all in vain. No matter his offers, his pleads, he was ignored. So, he went to the only person he felt he had left to ask for aid:

Hyūga Hiashi, the clan head of the other dōjutsu line of Konoha, and a distant brother.

Of course, Hiashi had balked at first, not wanting to be dragged into such an affair. But Fugaku had leverage. Their common roots, and the need for a scapegoat meant that it just might be the Hyūga next once the Uchiha were...removed. All he wanted was support - an ally to help him appeal to Konoha...and stand with them should the village strike.

And strike it did.

The battle had broken out at both compounds with perfect synchronicity, cutting the allied clans off from one another as they each fought their own battles. They had expected as much...but only barely. Plans to send the heirs and their seconds - the siblings, and their first cousins - to safety had been one of the first plans Hiashi and Fugaku made, both wanting to ensure the survival of their children and blood.

But the addendum to have adults accompany them fell through. The Hyūgas’ handmaid had been killed while ushering them out, buying them time to escape to their meeting place by the Naka. And Shisui’s mother - Mikoto’s sister - made a similar sacrifice.

Now six children face the wilderness alone, unsure if they’re yet being pursued by the place they once called home: the eldest fifteen, and the youngest not even yet two.

But Shisui is a tokubetsu jōnin, and Itachi an ANBU officer. Between the two of them, they’re certain they can keep the younger ones safe...so long as they aren’t met with a force too numerous.

What they need now, however, is a place to hide, and to rest.

“Any ideas?” Itachi asks as they run, giving his cousin a glance.

“Not particularly...they probably figure we’re following the river. It’ll make tracking us by foot impossible, and by scent difficult. We can’t really stray from it for that reason...but if we’re going to stop, that means getting off the water...and leaving a trail.”

“Even if we take the trees…?”

“Our scents will linger better. But after being up all day and now running half the night with additional weight...you and I need to rest. And the kids, too.”

Itachi can’t help but feel a bit of irony at the separation between them and the ‘kids’.

He and Shisui can’t be kids anymore.

...they haven’t really been for quite some time.

“Aniki…” Sasuke murmurs. “I’m tired…”

“...I know,” he replies through grit teeth, trying to think of a solution. They’re still over a day’s trek from the place Fugaku marked on their map...they have to stop before they get there. Even if they were going on a full night’s sleep, it’d be pushing it.

“Hey, Itachi…”

“Yes?”

“How’s your geographical genjutsu?”

The younger cousin blinks. “...why do you ask?”

“There’s a cave, up ahead. Maybe we can cast an illusion to hide the opening.”

Following Shisui’s gaze, Itachi brightens. There’s just a hint of a crack in the cliff that lines the Naka to their right. “...I can handle that.”

“Good. Let’s see if it’s worth it…” Veering, Shisui approaches, a hand feeling the rock. A hint of flame is blown into a hand, chakra sustaining it over his palm and lighting the space within.

“...what do you see?”

“This should work. It’s a tight fit to get in, but there’s a chamber...eh, ten paces wide? Enough to rest, anyway. We’ll have to get cozy, but it should work.”

“Very well.”

They pack the four younger children in, all of them looking to the pair with fear and uncertainty in their eyes.

“...all right. You all stay here. Don’t make any noise if you can help it. I know the baby’s gonna be fussy, but just...try your best. We’ll go scout and see if we can find some food. And a way to get water,” Shisui offers, half thinking aloud.

The elder three all nod solemnly, Hinata doing her best to keep her baby sister quiet.

Once back outside, Shisui sighs. “...all right...I’ll head back south a little ways, start looking for any signs we’re being followed. You stay here, start working on supplies. We all need to eat and rehydrate...and sleep, if we’re able. If I see anything, I’ll send a crow. Be ready.”

“Of course.” With that, Itachi turns to the cave entrance. Dark eyes flare red, and the sight seems to blur and stretch...until it’s nothing but a solid wall.

“Perfect. You and I can see through it, of course...but I doubt anyone else can, unless they have a damn good sensor with them. Don’t stray far - I’ll come back in an hour if nothing shows up.”

Itachi just nods, watching his cousin flicker away. Mind forced into a mission state, he begins doing as ordered. A stick sharpened with a kunai manages to spear several fish, which he cooks quickly and without smoke with some katon. Water he brings into a canteen, using what he knows of suiton to filter out any bacteria or microbes. When a pause reveals no crows in the sky, he retreats into the cave.

To his surprise, the four are closely huddled together. Neji seems to lean against Hinata protectively, Byakugan active as he too scouts for danger in his own way. He stares at Itachi, unblinking. Sasuke is on Hinata’s other side, looking a bit less familiar, but close nonetheless.

“Here...eat these,” Itachi offers, handing them the skewered fish. “Be mindful of bones.”

“W-what about Hanabi?” Hinata questions quietly.

“I’ll mash some, see if we can get her to eat it...do you know her diet?”

The elder sister shakes her head. “N...no.”

“That’s all right.” By now, he’s also forgotten what Sasuke could and would eat at that age. They’ll just have to make due. Eating his own catch, he then uses his hands to carefully debone and soften a few pieces of fish. “Here...best you try. She might fuss with a stranger.”

Hinata nods, accepting the food and trying to get her sister to eat. “Hanabi...please…”

Jaw clenched with a whine, the girl makes to refuse. “Nn!”

“Try miming eating it first. She might want to mimic you.” He remembers his mother doing something similar.

Listening, Hinata then tries again. “Mm,” she hums, mocking eating. “This is r-really good!”

Hanabi’s expression wavers, then shifts to a pout. “Ah, ah…!” Little hands reach, and Hinata offers it again. This time she takes some into her mouth, moving it around and managing to swallow some.

They all sigh in relief. “Here...some water, too,” he offers, watching them pass the canteen around.

“Aniki, where are we going…?” Sasuke then asks.

“...I don’t know. Someplace our father thought suitable. North, in the mountains.”

“An Uchiha outpost…?”

“It’s possible…?” Itachi knows most of their clan’s history, and he doesn’t remember such a fort. But maybe he missed something.

“Coming in!”

Glancing up, Itachi watches as Shisui fades through the illusion. “Anything?”

“Not yet...but best we take turns guarding.”

“Agreed.” He hands Shisui some food, which the elder gratefully accepts.

“How are things here?”

“We got the baby to eat a bit. The rest of us are doing the same.”

“Good...you mind taking first watch?”

“Not at all. I’m not too tired.” His body is weary, but his mind still sharp.

“Thanks...packing two kiddos is a bit much, honestly. Especially at that pace.”

“I agree. Don’t worry - I’ll keep watch.”

Once all the food is gone, water drank, and those needing it relieved outside, they arrange themselves for the remainder of the night. Shisui props himself next to Sasuke, still beside Hinata with Neji on her other flank.

“How you holding up, Sasuke?”

He doesn’t really reply.

In truth, Shisui hardly expects him to be well. Their entire clan is likely dead by now, or if any survived, scattered to the four winds...as the Hyūga will also be. It’s not easy...and it’s only his current object that keeps him grounded. “...it’s gonna be all right. We’re still alive. I know it isn’t easy...it hurts. But the important thing is now that we keep moving. We can’t let what our parents gave up for us be for nothing...okay?”

Tearing up a bit, Sasuke manages a nod, looking up to his brother. Itachi stares through the illusion with his Sharingan, a kunai kept gripped in one hand.

“...are they dead, Shisui?”

“...I don’t know for sure, Sasuke. Maybe some got out. We might never know, but...we can hope. For now...we have our mission your father gave us. And all good shinobi follow the mission, right?”

“...right.”

“...we’ll be okay. Maybe not today, or tomorrow...but we will. All of us. For now...we rely on each other. Keep each other safe. Got it?”

All three conscious kids nod, Hanabi thankfully asleep.

“T...thank you, Shisui-san,” Hinata murmurs.

“No need for honorifics, Hinata-chan. We’re all in this together. We’re all equal and familiar now, right?”

“...right…”

Smiling wearily, Shisui then sighs, doing his best to settle down and get some rest.

Watching him for a moment, Sasuke then glances to his other neighbor. “...Hinata-chan…?”

“Yeah?”

“...I’m scared.”

“Me...me too. But...Neji-nīsan, and Shisui-san, a-and Itachi-san will protect us. Right?”

“...yeah…”

Seeing him look unsure, Hinata wriggles one hand free from her sister, offering it palm-up.

After a pause, Sasuke gently takes it with one of his own.

“...w-we aren’t alone, Sasuke-kun. At least...a-at least we have each other, ne?”

“...yeah.”

.oOo.

(This is a sequel to day 99!) ...I think this is the longest gap between updates so far xD Over 200 days since the first 'part' of this was published, holy smokes! And I still ADORE this concept. This is...a little rushed, what with it being a daily (and me being sick and a holiday tomorrow, woo). But I like the overall idea a lot, and I think it's one I'll revamp / continue after the challenge (and my break lol). I just...really love these kiddos, and this AU! They're arguably all among my top ten characters, so getting to write them all together is neat, and the setting and plot is one I'm really liking. So here's hoping making it a fuller fic will work! I have a few ideas already, ahaha~ BUT for now...it's very late, I'm very tired, and tomorrow will be a VERY long day. So I'll call it here. Thanks for reading!

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #uchiha itachi #uchiha shisui #hyūga neji #hyūga hanabi #death //#then it all went wrong [ canon verse ]#365daysofsasuhina

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cryoculus · 6 years ago

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ok but can i req tsukki having a crush on his brother’s friend?????? thank you ily

» Word Count: 2,497 words

If I were to entitle this, it would be: Five Times Kei Lets His Feelings Run Rampant and the One Time He Finally Lets Them Go

edit: i didn’t write their parents in this because reasons

The first time was an evasion.

That night, his brother brought home some friends from college for a few drinks. Kei was a third year in Karasuno at the time, studying intently for finals until Akiteru showed up with three people in tow.

Kei planned on ignoring them entirely until Akiteru barged into his room.

“We’ve got guests, Kei,” he told him. “Could you come down and say hi?”

The look he gave him basically meant no, he did not want to say hi. But, from his own experience, Kei knew that humoring his brother was the fastest way to make him shut up. So, with reluctant strides, he followed Akiteru downstairs without any qualms.

“Guys, this is my little brother, Kei.” Akiteru grinned like he was some trophy sibling.

You snorted at him, noting the height difference between the two. “You sure he’s the little brother, Aki?”

His brother leered at you. “Hey! Just ‘cause he’s a good three inches taller than me, doesn’t mean I’m the little brother.”

“Of course you aren’t.”

Akiteru mumbled about how mean they were being before clearing his throat. “Kei, these are my friends –”

Admittedly, Kei couldn’t remember the names of the other college buddies his brother brought over that night. Partly because he didn’t really care, but mostly because they never dropped by again after that night. He only remembered you for suddenly becoming a constant presence in their house.

“–and that sharp-tongued bastard is (Name).”

Kei’s vision began to pull its center of attention solely on you, like a camera focusing on its subject. The other two friends Akiteru introduced steadily blurred into the background and brought you further into his line of sight.

“Nice to meet you, Kei.” Your lips turned up into a warm smile. “You old enough to drink?”

“(Name)!” Akiteru scolded, cupping Kei’s ears with both of his hands. “Don’t influence my little brother so early in his lifetime!”

Other friend number one rolled his eyes. “Aki, don’t pretend to be a saint. Didn’t you say you were already on hard liquor at age sixteen?”

Kei quirked a brow at that while his brother sputtered with his words. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Let him make his own decisions, Aki,” other friend number two scoffed. “You got a brother complex or something?”

Akiteru placed his hands on his hips, eye twitching as his friends continued to gang up on him. “If I remember correctly, we came here to have a good time, not to harass me to no end.”

You shrugged. “Bring out the damn drinks and stop hinting about your brother complex then.”

The older Tsukishima groaned in resignation, cussing in a colorful vocabulary as he made his way to the kitchen.

Kei gulped. He was left alone with you and Akiteru’s other two friends.

“So,” you began, eyeing him with an inquisitive gaze, “wanna have a couple of shots with us, Kei?”

He wanted to. But he had no good reason to do so.

“I’ve got exams tomorrow,” he replied dismissively, turning around to head back upstairs before you could make him change his mind. Kei had only met you, but he was already aware of what power you had over him.

The second time was a little more of a coincidence.

Kei didn’t know what you did for a living. He didn’t know where you worked to achieve the means to get by. He also didn’t know when your shift would begin and when it would come to an end. Akiteru didn’t supply him with that information, nor did he ask for it.

Yet here he was, lips parted in muted surprise as he handed you the book he was supposedly borrowing from the city library.

You’re yet to spare him a look, eyes trained on the title he selected with vague interest.

“No one’s really interested in archaeology anymore.” You swiftly removed the borrowing card from the back page, signing in today’s date. “May I know your – Kei?”

The timbre in your voice as his name rolled off your lips was an allure. Curious eyes gazed at him in bewilderment and he could almost see himself mirroring the expression. But why? You were just one of Akiteru’s many friends. If it were someone else in front of him, he’d brush off their recognition like dust on his shoulder.

He asked if you worked here. You said it was only temporary. He told you he’d return the leather-bound archaeology textbook in a week. You laughed dryly, informing him that you’d be out of here in three days’ time. He flatly reassured it was okay.

It kind of wasn’t.

The third was deliberate.

Kei constantly asked about you now and he wondered if Akiteru was catching on with his sudden interest. But from the way he’s not teasing him into oblivion about his hypothetical crush, Kei is sure that he’s yet to realize it.

You were the same age as Akiteru, you lived alone, you bounced from job to job simply because you ‘couldn’t find the best environment for yourself yet’, and you lived off instant ramen on the daily. Kei frowned at that last one. Didn’t you know the health hazards that came with eating too much instant food?

As he stood outside your apartment – your address having been the courtesy of his brother – fidgeting with the movie tickets he pre-purchased earlier today, he couldn’t help but ask:

What the fuck was he doing here?

It took you about three minutes to answer the door when he rang the doorbell. You peeked from the opening, disheveled from what he presumed was an afternoon nap. Sleepy eyes tried to assess what he was doing in your front door, but you mustered up a drowsy smile.

“Aki told me you were dropping by.”

He shuddered. What could his idiot brother possibly have told you? Akiteru must have made it out to be as compromising as possible. Kei was a high school student who didn’t have a direct source of income, yet he went out of his way to save up for movie tickets and a dinner reservation for two at an Italian restaurant that his brother told him you liked.

Now that he thought of it, he didn’t need Akiteru to make the situation seem as compromising than it already was.

“You taking me out on a date, Kei?” you teased as you opened the door further to let him in.

“It’s not a date, it’s charity,” he muttered.

“Sure it is.”

The fourth time was an experiment.

You were in their back porch, clinking mugs full of beer with the two brothers like there was no tomorrow. Kei had no memory of agreeing to being a part of yours and Akiteru’s plans on getting shit-faced this weekend. Yet here he was, face dusted with an intoxicated redness as he slowly stripped himself of his inhibitions.

You’ve all been chattering into the wee hours of the evening and the topics of your conversation beginning to delve into dangerous waters.

“Kei, if there was one person you’d make out for a whole day without stopping, who would it be?” Akiteru slurred to near incomprehensibility, slinging a heavy arm across his younger brother’s shoulders.

In the haze of his own drunkenness, Kei almost, almost nodded his head in your vague direction. He always wanted to know if your lips were as soft as the words you spoke.

But then Akiteru promptly slumped against his torso, beer mug slipping out of his grip. The abrupt sound of shattering glass and spilling alcohol was enough of a shock to rattle him out of his daze. But not completely.

You giggled. “Aki’s such a fuckin’ lightweight.”

“I’m gonna put him to bed,” Kei grumbled, trying to get up without being overwhelmed by the dead weight that his brother was forcing him to carry.

But Akiteru was far heavier than he was. Kei almost fell back to the floor when he supported Akiteru’s body on his right shoulder, but that’s until you caught the unconscious man, putting the rest of his weight on top of your own.

The two of you maneuvered him back into his bedroom with awkward but synchronized efforts, tossing him on top of the covers of his bed without concern for his ease. Akiteru would be too dead to the world to feel any discomfort anyway.

That should have been the deciding factor that signalled the end of their night. One of the three contenders has fallen and though this wasn’t that explicit of a last-man-standing competition, it should’ve been enough of a cue for you to leave.

But that wasn’t the case.

When he closed the door to Akiteru’s room, he came face-to-face with your own crimson tinged complexion, eyes gazing at him like he’s the finest piece of meat in the market. From the way the heat that simmered in his blood along with the liquid courage that was yet to die in his veins, Kei was pretty sure that he wasn’t sober enough to assess this logically.

Frankly, he didn’t want to.

Your lips came into contact with the sensitive skin of his ear. “How much older am I than you again?”

The undercurrent in your hushed tone made a jolt of electricity skid through his nerves. Gooseflesh danced across his skin as you braced your forehead against his own, permeating the air with the whisper of unsated desire.

“Six years, give or take.” The husk in his own words surprised him, but Kei was too busy gazing into the deep pools of your eyes to care. You chuckled at the fact that he had it in him to actually respond back.

“Kiss me,” came your breathless intonation.

And that he did, for what felt like hours of molding your body against the shape of his own, familiarizing himself with every nook and cranny, every dip and curve. When you finally pulled away from him, his mouth was numb but craved for more –

“Am I going to regret this when I’m sober?” you sighed against his lips, tugging at his golden tufts without reticence.

Boldly, he captured your bottom lip in his teeth, eliciting a low moan from you. His golden gaze pierced through you like an arrow through the heart.

“I’ll make sure you won’t.”

The fifth was a foreboding.

Somehow, Kei already knew the morning when he woke up from his drunken stupor that things wouldn’t be as they were anymore.

He and his brother still had private drinking sessions with you in their household from time to time, but whenever Kei would try to capture your gaze, you’d retract from the brief connection of your eyes in a flash. The lack of snarky remarks from you to him was also a notable change. It bothered him, but he would never say that aloud.

This persisted for a while, but Kei purposely turned a blind eye to it, like he did with most things that didn’t go his way. He knew better than to expect anything from an intoxicated exchange, but he did. And maybe that’s why he’s so goddamn irritable these past few days.

But then he began noticing something…off.

Personally, he didn’t really know when he’s grown into the habit of poisoning himself with cheap alcohol every weekend. He was an athlete. He had to keep up appearances, but he still found himself agreeing to Akiteru when his brother told him that you were coming over this Friday.

You came after your shift at a law firm you’ve signed up for recently and the exhaustion in your eyes was evident to a fault. Kei was the one who greeted you at the door and your dead-eyed gaze didn’t suit you. Not at all.

But when Akiteru’s singsong voice mellowed into your ears, it’s almost as if Kei witnessed a resurrection right before his eyes.

“Great timing! The beer is cold and waiting for you.”

His brother was not as young as he used to be and though he’s only in his mid-twenties, he certainly was aging faster than Kei anticipated. But the only thing about him that didn’t seem to grow any older were his deep brown irises. They still held the same mischievous glint that he had in the height of his teens.

Kei couldn’t help but understand why the exuberance almost immediately returned on your face at the mere sound of his brother’s voice. The grin you wore was unparalleled and he wondered if he could ever make you smile the same way.

No. He probably couldn’t – definitely couldn’t.

The sixth was a funeral.

Kei didn’t like it when emotions were the basis of choices being made – by himself or others, regardless. They were illogical and clouded a person’s judgement one way or another. He didn’t need that sort of extraneous variable thrown into the equation of his life decisions.

Yet, when he made the choice to cling onto the shred of hope that you’d one day look at him the same way you looked at his brother, no shred of rational thinking was devoted into that particular decision of his.

Once, when they were younger, Yamaguchi had told him that sometimes the best things in life come spontaneously and Kei had berated him for thinking as such. But now, he’s drinking a pint of beer by himself under the pale moonlight that spilled on their back porch, constantly thinking, constantly hoping that you’d change your mind out of pure spontaneity.

But he knew that his wishful thinking was at the end of the line.

Akiteru had moved out yesterday, finding solace in your new two-floor apartment somewhere uptown. There was reluctance in the parting gaze his brother had flashed Kei as he carried the box that carried the last of his possessions in previously their shared home.

It would be hard to be separated from him. They grew up together after all. But Kei knew that Akiteru wasn’t concerned with leaving him alone to fend for himself. No, it was for another matter entirely.

“I’m sorry,” Akiteru had whispered.

Kei didn’t have it in him to tell him that it was okay, that he didn’t care, and that he’s happy for you. All because it wasn’t okay, he did care, and he wasn’t happy for you.

He was used to coming in second, third, fourth – anything but first. He’s always been looking at the backs of those who were several steps ahead of him, whether it be from volleyball or his schoolwork. It was only a matter of time when someone else would beat him in the battle for your affections as well.

Though his vision swam from the bite of the alcohol that wasn’t as good as Akiteru’s special brew, his intentions remained unclouded. He needed to kill the corrosive poison in his heart sooner or later.

It was for the best, after all.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! headcanons #tsukishima kei #tsukishima kei hc #request #anon #tsukishima akiteru #hqscenario

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chinatea · 6 years ago

Text

Ian/BG, abo, Christmas bonus. (Part 1, Part 2)

AN: Well, it’s my birthday td, so I’m posting this as a gift to myself, i guess. Yay.

Jiyeon loves making love in the morning when there is little urgency to the process.

On most days, they wake up, almost synchronized - one of those magical mate things that they don’t tell you about - wash up and have a light breakfast before crawling back to bed for snogging. Ian would scent him and nuzzle his mark, purring to comfort him.

His alpha is happy, and the thought - more of a tangible sensation than a thought - would make his omega croon, silly and gleeful.

Today, however, is Christmas Eve and even if they’ve got plans, neither of them can say no to a lazy, slow-paced sex. Ian ruts into him until his knot swells, the omega’s heat clamping hard around his cock, locking it in until his alpha is trapped, low purrs seeping under his skin.

Ah, the purrs. Jiyeon loves how deep they can get, reverberating through his system, what with the way they’re pressed so intimately close. They share a few sweet nothings, voices reduced to whisper. Ian nuzzles his nose and smiles into his mouth, licking his way in - they kiss for a while, waiting for Ian’s swollen knot to subside.

The knotting itself rarely lasts long, but even his walls are loose enough for Ian to pull out, Jiyeon can’t let him go just yet. The craving is real, like an itch under his skin, and he is still learning how to deal with that. Having some quality time in the morning helps though - makes his prissy omega shut up for a while, so he can concentrate on doing things that are not Ian.

“How much time do we have?” Jiyeon murmurs, nose buried in the pillow that smells like them. It comforts him.

Ian lays a kiss on his shoulder, palm stroking down his side before resting in the dip of his waist.

“An hour or so,” he says. “We still need to drive to your dad’s first.”

Right. To pick up the twins. And then, they’re off to Busan because someone thought it would be a great idea to surprise good ol’ Jeons with a visit. Whomever said it, Jiyeon wants to kick them. And since Ian is the only one around, he kicks Ian - as in his arm flails around weakly, missing by a long shot.

Ian churtles, the line of his throat exposed for Jiyeon to stare at in longing. Sometimes he wishes he could mark him there, the way Ian did him, piercing his scent gland to leave a long-lasting testimony of their love. But stupid nature deprived him of the pleasure, so he has to settle for short-term ones, peppering Ian’s neck - and any place that strikes his fancy really - with cheeky love bites.

(Like someone strapped Ian to a beehive. Beautiful.)

Diminie and Christian are waiting for them, bags packed and rolled out, in the Parks mansion when they arrive.

It feels nice to be back home, surrounded by his loved ones, and see that nothing has really changed.

Diminie still hasn’t moved out, four years now into his marriage. He and his mate live separately, but some mates do nowadays. It’s a new thing, like giving each other space and everything, which Jiyeon still finds hard to wrap his head around - like, Ian can have his space when they’re both dead, maybe - but Di and their dad have always been close, as close as one can without making things too weird.

At times, Diminie can be a bit of an oddball.

He’s fragile and bubbly, very omega, very opposite of his twin, yet unlike Chris and Jiyeon (he doesn’t even know what he’s going to have for breakfast tomorrow, let alone who he’s going to be ten years from now), Di had it all mapped out in his mind since the age of two, or something. Diminie just knew things. By 16, he’d have his own little bakery; by 18, he’d marry his best friend and by 20, he’d have their first pup. And that’s barely scraping the list.

People who stick to their lists terrify Jiyeon sometimes, they really do.

At least, Christian takes more after him. In fact, he takes after Jiyeon a little too much, hence their bickering over the darndest things. Yet Jiyeon gets him better than anyone, how fragile Chris really is underneath all that swagger.

Diminie’s separation, taking a mate, had hit him hard. He felt abandoned and betrayed by his own twin, even if Diminie hadn’t gone anywhere physically, but he moved on from them - eager to start his own family, to be his own person while Chris still had no idea how to be something other than one half of the whole.

When Christian signed up for a dance school in the States, it was clear that his decision was not up for discussion. He needed to get away, learn how to stand on his own two feet and Jiyeon, all differences put aside, stood by him and persuaded their dad to let the boy go.

It’s been five years since then. Barely a day since Christian finally came him, just in time for Christmas.

Jiyeon is rapt to have him back. Somewhat relieved, too. Jiyeon hugs him first, the tightest hug he could squeeze out of himself.

“I missed you, pup,” he says in half voice, a tight clump in his throat as he swallows, a tiny bit emotional.

“Hyung,” Christian mumbles, nuzzling in sheepishly. For a moment, he reminds Jiyeon of the itty-bitty kid he used to be, sneaking into his bed at night with a book of fairy tales. So tiny and adorable and needy.

Jiyeon ruffles his hair, a fond smile on his lips. That is, until his eyes flicker down to take in the ugliest sweater he’s ever seen in his life. He feels attacked, all of a sudden, by his own blood.

A green strip of crocheted deers attempting to dab? He doesn’t find it witty, not one bit.

“You’re not wearing this joke of a sweater to Busan,” he puts his foot down, as any older brother working in fashion would, a saccharine smile on his lips and a dangerous edge to his voice. Now that the warm family reunion is over with, it’s time to whoop Christian’s ass into shape.

“Hyung!” Christian hisses, not missing a beat. A pouty duckling beak rearing up. “You can’t tell me what to wear anymore.”

“Oh, is that so?” Jiyeon says, sickly sweet, arms crossed over his chest. Ready to pounce, all guns blazing.

(It’s fucking on.)

(One very disgruntled and de-sweatered Christian later.)

“Yannie, there is someone I’d like you to meet before we go,” Jiyeon says, an impish spark in his eyes. He’s bubbling with delight, rocking on the balls of his feet as he marvels at his mate’s confounded face.

“Oh?” Ian asks, an almost untraceable chagrin in his voice, well-masked, only Jiyeon knows him like the back of his hand by now. It vexes Ian immeasurably to be out of the loop on even the smallest things. Who is that someone he’s supposed to meet? Why hasn’t he been warned ahead of time? Preferably many weeks in advance, so Ian could prepare accordingly.

As much as Jiyeon enjoys keeping Ian in the dark for his personal amusement, he doesn’t think he can sit on this secret any longer - else he blows up.

He nods at Diminie who flits towards the door to usher Christian in, a wicker basket in his arms. Ocean blue ribbons are twined around the handle, meeting on top in a fancy bow. Jiyeon was very particular about the bow, as he’s particular about most things packaging - devil is in the details, after all.

“I know it’s a bit early, but Merry Christmas, baby,” Jiyeon chimes, rising on his tippy toes to plant a big smooch on Ian’s cheek before nudging him excitedly towards his ‘present’.

Ian takes a few cautious steps forward. One might say he appears to be a touch frazzled as he peeks in, almost wary, a happy surprised gasp parting his lips at the sight of a mastiff puppy nestled under a quilt blanket. He is the coziest thing, with floppy ears and stubby paws, a healthy luster to his bluish grey fur. A drowsy whine escapes the pup as Ian flicks its ear gently, petting along the chubby snout.

“Is it...really mine?” Ian asks, the way a five-year old would ask his parents if he can keep the snail he found outside as a pet - like, he’d feed it his grandma’s favourite potted azaleas and everything.

Adorable.

Jiyeon wants to snap a picture of that face, frame it and hang it over their bedroom nest for posterity.

“All yours, love, to bring home and spoil rotten,” Jiyeon beams. “But not too much unless you want me to get jealous, alpha.”

Ian levels him with the most intense look, the kind of look that belongs in their bedroom when all the layers of propriety are dissolved and emotions are bare. Ian, one arm hooked around his waist, snaps their bodies together, taking over his mouth in one hell of a kiss. It’s raw and voracious and it leaves all three omega siblings stunned.

A strong alpha presence unfurls in the room. It’s potent. And Jiyeon has a mind to cancel the whole thing and drag Ian somewhere private for an intimate conversation on manners.

“Get a hold of yourselves, christ,” Christian’s voice pierces through the haze. “And quit stinking up the room. You’re scaring the little one.”

Jiyeon sighs into the kiss, pulling back reluctantly to rest his cheek against Ian’s shoulder, learning how to breathe again. He feels bad when he sees the pup, wide awake and whimpering slightly, ears flattened against his head in submission.

“I think you should scent him,” he says to Ian. “Let him know you’re not danger.”

“Yeah,” Ian says, suddenly unsure. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

The alpha picks up the pup into his arms and everything falls into place. Ian looks beyond smitten already and it warms Jiyeon’s heart to see his mate so endeared and happy. They’ve come a long way, he thinks then, they truly have.

“We’re not really going to Busan, are we,” Jiyeon remarks as he stifles a yawn.

It’s been an hour into their trip and he feels too cozy and sleepy to give a damn about Ian’s schemes. As long as they arrive somewhere. For now, Jiyeon is happily cocooning inside his alpha’s coat where his woodsy scent is the thickest.

“You’ll see,” Ian replies with a brief glance at him, reaching out with one hand to fiddle with the collar of his coat, as if it’s going to make him more comfy. The alpha just likes to fuss around him and it’s not the worst thing ever, Jiyeon doesn’t think. The perks of being in love.

Jiyeon peers into the rear view mirror to find his brothers determinedly avoiding eye contact. Diminie has his nose tucked into a pocket-sized book - another obnoxiously sappy porn novel, from the looks of it, that he seems to inhale in dozens every year - while Christian is having an angry staring contest with his phone, probably still miffed about the sweater.

They’re obviously in on the secret.

“Where are we going, huh?” Jiyeon demands, his attention back on Ian. It can’t be revenge for the puppy surprise - he’s clearly been planning it for a while now, just like Jiyeon did.

His tiny fist pokes through the coat to bonk Ian on the knee. Three times. Each one weaker than the last. His palm rests on top of it for a moment, as if contemplating its next move, before digging into the meat of Ian’s thigh, thick and firm in his grip - Jiyeon’s mind is immediately sidetracked.

“No molesting the driver,” Ian chastises, a hand clasping over his and pressing a kiss to his knuckles before stuffing it back into his coat. “And as I’ve said, you’ll see.”

Somewhere along the way, he’d nodded off and when he opens his eyes, it’s to the fresh sight of pines and snow and a cozy little porch.

A picture perfect Middle of Nowhere.

Ian kills the car’s engine and wades out, still coat-less, and Jiyeon just wants to bury deeper into his layers because he hates cold. And watching Ian plod through mounds of snow in a thin cardigan makes him feel the chills.

The twins are just as reckless, spilling out of the car with giggly enthusiasm. Well, Christian - less giggly, but determined, as he rolls a heap of snow into a ball and crashes it on top of Diminie’s cape. The other squeals and skitters away behind the car, most likely to plan his revenge.

Both of them seem to be having the time of their lives, being five-year-olds again. While Jiyeon would sell his soul for a glass of mulled wine and a warm compress to cuddle with in bed.

Ian reappears, opening the door and letting Jiyeon feel the nasty bite for real now. The omega puffs his cheeks out and looks at Ian, all prickly, who busies himself with undoing his safety belt.

“I’m not going,” he whines, just to be petty. It’s probably much warmer inside the cabin, but there is quite a bit of snow and a minus degree weather between him and the cabin, so he’ll pass, for now.

Ian sighs and gathers Jiyeon into his arms, supporting under his butt as the other does his best job to hold on, hands weaving around Ian’s neck.

Much better.

It’s warm inside and smells like Christmas chicken with herbs and spices.

“Ho-ho-ho, naughties,” a voice booms and soon enough Junghwan pops out, weilding a spatula, unkempt Santa beard draped around his chest like a necklace.

“Oh, hello, hottie.”

Junghwan wiggles his eyebrows at Christian when he spots him, and the other huffs, picking up both his and Diminie’s bags, making a bit of a show of it, too - he’s an omega who can pull his weight around and needs no big tough alpha to save him kind of act - and stalking away up the stairs.

“Oh well,” the alpha shrugs, unperturbed, “the night is young.”

He faces Diminie who returns his smile sheepishly. Junghwan’s gaze softens, no trace of the raunchiness from before. Still playful, though. It’s a rare sight on him.

“Hey, Mr. Cupcake, wanna help me out in the kitchen?”

Diminie giggles, sweater paws covering his mouth. He lets Junghwan help him get rid of the extra snow hiding in the folds of his coat, patting them away. Jiyeon can’t help but notice from the side how gentle the alpha is with his brother, respectful, too. There is so much more to him than meets the eye. He wishes Christian would maybe give him a little chance to prove himself.

“Are you with me, pup?” Ian’s voice snaps him back to his alpha.

“Always with you, alpha,” Jiyeon simpers, interlacing their fingers as Ian leads them into the next room, very instagram-worthy, with a fireplace, million of throw pillows and a glass wall overlooking the frozen lake by their cabin - it’s started snowing just now and Jiyeon already feels a little bit magical.

But also hungry. Plenty hungry.

“So, what’s this little winter nest of yours, mhm?” he asks, inspecting a few knick-knacks over the fireplace.

“Ours,” Ian corrects him. “My Christmas gift to us.”

Ian has spent too much time with their dad, Jiyeon thinks as he inspects the new digs, a winter chalet in Gangwondo with a promise of the outdoor hot springs - Jiyeon has yet to see it, too weighed down by all the chicken in his stomach.

Damn Junghwan and his prowess in the kitchen. That man is a keeper - too bad Christian is too damn stubborn, just like Jiyeon is, only Jiyeon is clever stubborn while Christian is stupid stubborn, spending most of the night on his phone or upstairs with a book or whatever.

Like, Jiyeon is mighty tempted to waddle over yonder and give him a piece of his mind, but maybe later - he’s too cozy, snuggled up next to Ian, the alpha’s arm thrown over shoulder. He feels bliss. He is bliss.

The ambiance is nice, too. The crackling of firewood, the blizzard outside, hushed voices from the kitchen where Junghwan and Diminie are putting the christmas cake through its paces. He guesses it can’t be helped that those two have gotten so chummy - food is their passion, something they pursue professionally and honestly, it seems, at last, that Diminie has found an informed listener for his spiritual quest to bake the perfect cupcake, so good for him.

“You know what I was thinking about when I saw you rocking the little pup in your arms?” Jiyeon speaks up into the comfortable silence between them.

“What were you thinking about, love?” Ian hums, pressing a sweet kiss onto the crown of his head.

Jiyeon smiles to himself, savouring those thoughts. Although saying them out loud makes him feel a touch self-conscious and silly.

“It made me think about you holding our own little pup in your arms, scenting him to sleep,” he says with a sigh. God, he’s so not ready to even venture there, but.

“You did?” Ian asks, carefully.

“Yeah,” Jiyeon says. “I mean, I’m not suggesting or...god no. I’m more than happy with just the two of us. I’m selfish and ideally want you all to myself at all times, but...I didn’t hate that thought, you know, as much as I thought I would. It was nice. Sort of.”

“It’s okay, pup. One day we’ll talk about it, okay?”

“Yeah?” Jiyeon glances up, drowning in Ian’s gaze.

“Yeah.”

Always fucking drowning. Like one does in quicksand. Or in love.

(“I want you to know you make me the happiest man, Ji.”)

----

Some extras (as per tradition).

- Ian and BG will have their first kid, an omega, in mid-thirties (around ten years into their marriage, btw) and then a year later, alpha twins.

- Diminie has a mate and two-year-old omega pup which Diminie had at 20, just like he wanted. And he doesn’t intend to stop there.

- Diminie owns several bakeries around Seoul, the first one he started at 16 (sponsored by his dad, ofc). He’s a pastry genius, his cupcakes already became a household name in Korea, now spreading all over the world.

- Christian had a few boyfriends in the States, but nothing too serious because he knew one day he was going to go back and, hence, break it off. He’s currently single and not looking for relationship.

- Tattoo, same age as BG, is also single. Still waiting for the One, because he’s romantic like that, and while he waits, he’s figured he might as well have a little fun with every pretty omega batting their eyelashes his way. He’s like, the opposite of Ian.

- Tattoo is a self-taught chef. Has his own place in Busan, with two Michelin stars he was awarded just recently. Plans to open a new place in Seoul, soon.

- True to his persona name, this Tattoo has two full arm sleeves. A bit risque for a chef in Korea, I suppose, but still a big hit with both the patrons and one-timers in his restaurant. Most of them are, unsurprisingly, omegas.

- Also, in this AU, BG has naturally wavy hair which he used to straighten out all the time. Ian had no idea until they’ve gotten married, but once he did, he got floored with major uwus and suggested (begged) BG leave his precious hair alone. (BG, Diminie and Tat are the wavy hair squad.)

- You might have noticed that Seagull is not really featured here. That’s because I haven’t yet come up with a story for him. I might in the future though, if I decide to continue with this universe.

- Also, I borrowed some worldbuilding details from my other abo au, specifically about marking. In short, only omegas get marked by their alphas. Marks are not permanent and fade away with time. Also, a mark can be overpowered by another mark made by the alpha of a more dominant status.

#personas au #ian/bg

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