#her edges are sharp but lemme tell you what

[liesandalibis]

.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

dinner prep engagement ♡

a/n : aaaand its finally here, the final part of the ring pop proposal miniseries after decades !!!! im sorry it took me so long to write this final part yall, i just finally felt enough inspo to write it and im super happy w how it came out ! i hope yall do too ! lemme know if you wanna be added to the taglist ! much luv xx

fem reader, literally pure fluff between mama n son, katsuki gets emotional very quickly bc i believe he does and you cannot make me think otherwise, a lil emotional but pure sweetness, mentions of making dinner, lmk if i missed sum else !!

this time, mitsuki has no idea what her son is planning. sure she’s had her hopes for years now, and her suspicions, but nothing truly concrete.

that is, until she gets a call in the middle of the night.

"katsuki..hello ?" she answers groggily, heaving a sigh and rubbing at her eyes. she checks next to her to make sure she hasn't woken her husband up, her eyes dart over to her digital clock " 'ts one in the morning."

"uh..hey." her son's gruff voice sounds over the phone, she raises a brow at his hesitant tone of voice, but she let's him continue "yeah, i know. sorry.." he mumbles out.

the older woman shakes her head affectionately "it's fine..is there something you wanted to talk about ?"

it's silent on the other end for a while until katsuki mumbles something. "katsuki, you know i can't hear you if you don't speak up." she scolds lightly, causing him to growl under his breath.

"not..not right now, no--just..can i come over tomorrow ?"

taking in her silence for hesitance he continues " it's nothin' bad..i just--feel like it's something i needa say face to face, i guess.."

"okay..yeah, of course. you know you can come over whenever you want." she urges "is yn comin' along ?"

"no, she isn't." she can practically hear his eye roll and it makes her smirk "she'll be busy tomorrow anyway so, not this time. i'll tell her you said hello though, since you're always tellin' me to."

she's about to retort when katsuki speaks again, only not to her. she hears what she knows is your voice quietly chatting with him as he reassures you that he'll be right there with you and for you to go back to bed. the soft tone in his voice makes her eyes soften.

never could she ever have imagined her katsuki ever speaking so softly to anyone, because her katsuki is, despite having calmed down over the years, still quite the brat. (she's pretty sure she knows where he gets it from now..) he's still temperamental when interviewers and journalists get on his nerves. he's still awfully moody , but he's different now. he's just a little bit gentler with the way he handles kids or older women who's cats have gotten stuck in trees. complaining that this isn't his damn job but still doing it anyway with utmost care as the kitties sink their sharp claws into his skin or cling to him for warmth.

he's a still a little rough around the edges but it's the thought that counts. he's different than when he was younger, but he still is the most different with you. his rough and gruff voice that he uses to bark out orders and complain, complain, complain, he uses so softly around you, keeping you as calm and sleepy as possible. it's not perfect, but he manages to usher you back to your room to sleep, and that makes the thought count so much more.

"m'gonna go now." he warns, his mother hums in agreement, telling him she'll see him tomorrow and he reciprocates the goodbye.

"night, ma."

"night, kiddo." she grins, a happy sigh leaving her when she hangs up the call and lays back down. cozying herself up next to her husband.

she's had her suspicions and her hopes for a while now, but she can't be too sure what her son could possibly want from her tomorrow.

katsuki comes back home like he's never left.

the day goes like any other day would've went a few years ago when he was still living in the family home. mitsuki almost expects her son to run off upstairs to do his homework.

he greets his dad with a half hug, and is forced into a tight embrace by his mother, which he grumbles about. grumbles turning into a growl when she grips his cheek, scolding him for not greeting his mother properly.

it's a lot of catching up from the few months he's been busy with hero work. talking about his latests achievements and his quick climbing of the hero ranks, accompanied with barely suppressed smiles and softened eyes when you're brought up. mitsuki remembers how nervous he'd been when he'd told her he was planning on asking you to move in with him, so she's happy to hear from the both of you, since she has your number and you like to catch up every now and then, that everything was going well. though she already knew it would.

katsuki volunteered to help with dinner, his mother happily agreeing saying she could use some help. it makes her a little bit nostalgic and she wills herself not to get teary eyed at how much her son has grown.

but she sees that the opportunity has presented itself to bring up the topic that's been on the tip of her tongue the entire day now.

"so.." she sings "you wanted to talk about something, right ?"

katsuki stiffens like he'd forgotten, although his expression stays the same besides the slight squint of his eyes. the rhythmic cutting of vegetables has stopped and it takes him a moment before he speaks quietly like he's revealing a secret.

"i wanna ask yn to marry me."

oh.

so that was it.

"oh." she breathes immediately. a broad smile slowly grows onto her face and she beams "took you long enough, ya brat !" she exclaims, slapping her sons muscular arm. he growls lowly at her, leaning away from her though she remains undeterred. poking at his sides while he tries to smack her hands away.

finally, she relents "when are you gonna ask ?" she asks excitedly. katsuki huffs, eyebrows still heavily furrowed from her earlier attack. he turns back to the cutting board "soon. i arranged my schedule and we'll both be free, so in two weeks from now."

"you already have a ring ?"

he grunts in agreement. and mitsuki besides being proud of the fact her hunch was right, feels her heart warms at the burst of nostalgia of her little boy. her katsuki, kicking his feet in the backseat of her car. tightly gripping his bag of ring pop candies he'd give to you the next day. her little katsuki, who'd proudly claimed he was going to marry you when he grew up in that very same car, exclaiming that he'd proposed to you with those very same candies he'd almost had a tantrum over her not getting.

her little boy, who'd gotten oh so big, and so, so much more enamoured with you.

"good." she utters sweetly, voice just a bit wobbly "good. that's great, katsuki."

he nods to himself " i've thought about it for a while now..long while." he scoffs to himself, eyes focused on the cutting board in front of him. "got the whole day planned out too."

"yeah ?" he nods. her eyes soften as he speaks mostly to himself, he's had this little self hype up habit ever since he was a boy. trying to calm himself down and reassure himself. it's a smart move, but as strong and mature as he is, katsuki is nothing more than human. and anxieties can creep up on the best of us.

she's seen it before, and she sees it again when he bites his bottom lip in thought, and she smiles softly.

and again, she coaxes him into it " that sounds nice, looks like you got it all planned out, huh?"

and he nods again. but it doesn't take him, long before he breaks.

"..what if she says no ?"

and mitsuki wants to laugh. she really does, because the thought of you ever saying no to him sounds absolutely ridiculous to her. she snorts. shaking her head while her son looks at her incredulously.

"katsuki.." she tuts, chuckling to herself before she looks up at him. "you've got absolutely nothing to worry about. you've got it."

his eyes widen, then her son's expression drops as he raises a brow "how do you know that ?" his words make her smile widen this much more and she really wants to laugh.

how does she know. she scoffs

she knows because she knows him. she knows her katsuki better than anyone else, he's her son. she knows he's rude, rowdy, quipy, temperamental and everything else. he's all of that and so much more.

and yet you still love him. you're still so incredibly patient with him, you still offer him all of your kindness despite him once confessing to her he doesn't understand how you do. despite all of the times he's messed up, the times he's fallen down, you stay by his side you care for him, you care about him.

she knows her katsuki is absolutely infatuated with you, he always has been. from tantrums about being separated in class and knowing your favourite ice cream flavour to him being overly protective over you when you were paired up with your lab partner that ended up not being him and to him wearing the stupid stuffy tux mitsuki tailor made for him to take you to prom.

you've always been his number one best friend, but he's always been yours as well : he loves you, but you love him just as much.

and so mitsuki smiles "call it mother's intuition. and, not to brag, but i think most of my hunches have been right by now" and it widens when katsuki scoffs and rolls his eyes at her boasting, another bratty little habit he has that he's practically mastered over the years. she sighs, spreading her arms out towards him "well come over here. you've gone and gotten so damn tall, i can't reach you myself !" her son rolls his eyes again, but he scoffs softly to himself and with a shake of his head, he closes the distance and hunches over to hug his mother. she wraps her arms around him tightly and he grumbles when she squeezes but he doesn't try to get away.

"there's nothing for you to worry about, katsuki. absolutely nothing." she repeats, rubbing his back. "you love each other, and that's more than enough. just be yourself, it's been working out for you this far..somehow." she jests. katsuki scoffs indignantly but they both end up chuckling about it. after a few more seconds they pull away and mitsuki pats her son's chest with a sniffle. right on top of his heart that she knows, she's seen, has gone through oh so much.

but still remained entirely yours throughout all the years and still so so so enamoured with you.

gripping onto his shoulders, she whispers "you got this." the glossiness in his eyes is impossible to miss, he's always cried very easily. but she guesses she mirrors his expression exactly. her son is the spitting image of her after all. she places a hand on his cheek and he leans into it.

"thanks, ma" he whispers sincerely. and mitsuki feels her heart soar.

"any time."

during dinner, katsuki announces the news to his father. who after getting over his shock immediately wraps his son into a hug. congratulating him and encouraging him with teary eyes, she knows where katsuki gets that from, before they all settle down to have dinner before katsuki leaves a few hours later. waving off his mother's insistence to pass you a greeting with a grumbled acknowledgement.

she shakes her head as her and her husband watch him drive off but her heart is full of pride.

"we raised a killer son didn't we ?" she giggles looking back at masaru, who agrees with a smile as they share a laugh.

and the next time you both come over, you're giddy. unable to keep your excitement in check as you keep excitedly looking back at katsuki, who finally relents with an affectionate sigh and you happily show off you're ringed finger with a squeal.

mitsuki squeals right back, wrapping you up in the tightest bear hug she could. masaru takes his turn hugging you, sweetly congratulating you both. of course, they'll tell you they both new in advance, but that was all for later.

sure, she didn't know what her son was planning in advance, but she had her hunches and her funny feeling from all those years ago that you'd be sticking around. she guesses it's good enough that she was the first to be told.

she sends her son a proud and teasing smile when they make eye contact. he rolls his eyes, but the smile on his face doesn't fade as he watches you talk with his father. she doesn't have to say a single word for him to know what she's saying.

i told you so.

taglist *if your name is pink i unfortunately couldn’t tag you :(( : @73isthebestnumber @gold24fish @m-inluv @katsuisbaby @teddiiursulas-ink @moonbabysstuff @brandydel @queenpiranhadon @chuugarettes @starieq @aishio14 @andysdrafts @hyunorue @touyasprettydoll @itsfiive @annoying-bitxh @h0nestly-though @atinytiredpanromantic @mikalame @itzjustj-1000 @deepressed @evam23 @erenstitanweave @m-0ona @chaoticgay13 @lotusstarr @koreluvsspring @giannitaa @waterstarz @nayeonsdoormat @the-crazy-star-12 @kovu-bunnbunn @kvk6433gkcigv @coolgirl458 @beekeepingageissome

[jinkiezzsstuff]

At First Sight 3

Part: [1] [2]

Alastor x doe!fem!reader (gender neuteral pronouns)

warnings: 18+ SMUT, tentacles inclusion, tentacle bondage, predatory prey kink, breeding kink, creampie, male and female masturbation, in heat trope, tentacle masturbation, squirting, dirty talk, choking kink a tiny tiny amount, horror aspects, size kink if you squint, pregnancy although not in depth, you and al become parents, jealous alastor, alastor and lucifer hate eachother, lucifer disagrees with your relationship, swearing, babies given a name, girl dad alastor, NOT PROOF READ LADS I WAS LAZY, lemme know what i missed xoxox

taglist: @readergirlstuff @purplerose291 @chirimeimei @sirens-and-moonflowers

word count: 7.3K

Alastor had to bite his tongue through many instances in his life he rather not bite his tongue through, but this was by far the hardest he’s ever had to hold back. Lucifer pulled you into a strong hug, cooing at how much you’d grown and changed, pinching your cheeks and kissing your head. Even Alastor’s shadows edged out angrily across the floor at the devil, however you seemed to pay no mind to your newly wedded’s distaste in the devils affections. In fact you were laughing and playfully swatting at Lucifer for treating you so childishly.

Moulting into a shadow slithering across the floor like a snake, he crept up beside you and when he fully formed from the black goop, he waited not a second to pull you into him, and when he did you gave him a dreamy love sick look. Lucifer's face wasn’t shy in his display of disgust, eyes darting to you and Alastor, mouth ajar. “No.” Lucifer uttered in theatrical horror, jumping back and pointing his cane at Alastor. Grinning like the Cheshire cat, Alastor puffed with pride. “Yes.” Alastor practically growled, meanwhile rolled your eyes at both of their idiotic behaviour.

“I mean Charlie said you had an…. interesting taste in men but HIM?!” You grinned nervously at the king, his face soured as he glared at Al. You were in the midst of saying some good old recovery words to ease Lucifers mind, when Alastor pipped up, head held high as he spoke. “Yes indeedy! This little darling and I have become quite the pair. A married pair.” Alastors words were sharp and punctual, like spears tossed forcefully right at the king himself.

You’ve been in Lucifers life so long you might as well be a second daughter, now this deer fuck is stealing both his biological daughter and the one he practically adopted? Lucifer was steaming and you were caught between the two, you knew you were mated to Alastor, but that didn’t change how near and dear the king was to you.

“Guys,” You ushered in a hushed tone bringing your hand up, looking quite meek between the two seething demons. “Please relax, it’s not that serious. Alastor is my mate Luc-” As you were in the middle of calmly explaining the situation Lucifer jumped up like the ground had burnt him, horns shooting out of his head. “His what?!” Lucifer shouted, wings splaying out, tone demonic. Alastor chuckled, his static overlay enhanced as he fixed his monocle. “Yes, I just knew this doe had to be mine when I laid eyes on her! Oh my what a night we had.” In any other situation, on any other day, Alastor couldn’t have those words waterboarded out of him, but just in spite of the devil, he knew he ought to push his own boundaries.

The devil face morphed into shock horror as he tugged at his hat in pure stress, meanwhile Alastor stood tall and smug, with a shit eating grin on his face. You could tell Alastor was going to exploit your relationship just to piss Lucifer off. “What the holy fuck!” The king exclaimed, running in a quick circle, trying to grasp the situation. By now Lucifers entire demonic form was out, eyes blood red, horns at full length, wings flapping occasionally behind him. Thankfully Alastor wasn’t visibly upset, keeping his form and tone fixed. “Guys, Luce, relax! I wanted Alastor the moment I saw him, trust me I know what he’s done and who he is, but there was something about him. You know I’m not that stupid hellion who falls for anybody’s charms, Alastors got something.”

Lucifer didn’t seem to care for your reasoning, instead he glared at Alastor even harder, and pointed his index and middle finger toward his own eyes, and then Alastors. “I’m watching you deer dick.” Then Lucifer turned and stormed off, ignoring your call to come back and relax. Sighing your platinum ears flattened against your hair and head, posture falling. “Come now my dear, don’t dwell on that silly little man’s equally silly and little emotional control! We’re married now! We should be celebrating our fantastical venture into domestic romance!”

Although Alastor was right, the timing was wrong, and his voice was too happy for your state. “I know, but he’s like a second dad, I want him to like you and it stresses me that he doesn’t.” Alastor hums, gently guiding you back upstairs to your now shared bedroom. “Things tend to change with time sweetheart, let this be one of those things that change with time. He can see how good we are together and how good I am for this hotel!” You hummed falling into his side, your tail wagging happily as you reached the bedroom.

“I was also hoping he’d be able to lend us some advice but now I'm doubtful.” The door closed behind you and him, you immediately kicked your shoes off to free the hooves. “What advice dear?” Alastor asked softly, attention focused on untying his bow tie. “Well i’m quite concerned about getting pregnant with a fawn, and I want to know if our mating it’s demon or animal specific.”

The air got tight at the mention of children, and immediately you looked over to him watching his movements stall. His coat was now off leaving him in just his vest and button up. Sighing you rubbed your hand forcefully your forehead, mushing your skin around in an attempt to relieve the conflict in your head. “You mustn’t talk like that, little doe.” Alastors tone was stern, pointed and lacking all radio static, it was just his raw vocals that sounded almost raspy. You felt a few emotions at the way he said that, upset, angry, shocked.

Momentarily you scolded yourself for being so ludacris, this was Alastor! A serial killing, cannibalistic overlord who dealt in black magic, not your fairy prince; there were going to be big bumps and hurdles along the journey and you shouldn’t twist yourself up in a rose coloured fantasy. “Would it be that bad for you?” You couldn’t help but ask, your gaze averted instead focused on the intricate details of the wooden floor.

Alastor growled, slithering up beside you, using his magic to his advantage. “Now my dear don’t look so glum, you’re the first being of any kind to capture my heart. Shouldn’t that be something my dear?” You melted into his side when his arms came up to wrap around your figure. You stayed silent for a moment, not wanting to say the wrong thing and upset either of you. “It just felt saddening I guess, to have you react like that. I know a child is so much work, it is its own being; but when you reacted that way it felt like rejection of me, and us as a couple. Like i’m not good enough to be mated to.” Tears began to gather in your eyes, and you tried your best to keep them at bay, not wanting to cry about something so silly.

Your ears lay flat above your head, Alastor slowly petting the space between them as you spoke. Guiding you to your shared bed, Alastor sat you down, and then himself beside you. “My sweet doe,” Alastor said, smooth as butter, nuzzling himself in your neck, inhaling your scent. “If you so desire a child, we can certainly play into the fantasy, however we haven’t a clue whether it’s truly possible for me to reproduce!”

Resting your head atop his, feeling his soft ears flick and fold, his hair soft and scented with a masculine foresty shampoo. “Alastor,” You whined, making him chuckle darkly. “What about the mating stuff?” Alastor blew air on your shoulder before dragging his sharp teeth up your exposed neck. “My dear I'm sure you and I can figure it out together, no need for some silly devil. Besides we’re the two mated, we know deep down what we’re supposed to do, we knew when we first met each other we were meant to be.” Alastor leaned back from you, cupping your cheek.

You smiled at him enjoying the hazed lidded look Alastor had in his eye. “You have to be nice to Lucifer though.” Alastor growled lowly, the sound reverberating through his chest loudly. It sent shock waves through you, hearing such an animalistic sound from him. “It’s extremely hard to be nice when it’s so easy to make him upset!” Rolling your eyes, you brought your hands up to his face and held his face as he held yours. His ears flattened to each side as his eyebrows quirked, you felt a little bit of pride at the sight, it had only been a few weeks since you’ve been together but Alastor was already way more relaxed around you, to the point of freely showing emotions through movements in his tail and ears.

Pulling him toward you, you gave a soft kiss, which he immediately returned with a hum of approval. Alastors body inches nearer to yours, pressing himself next to you. Alastor broke the kiss, looking down at you with bedroom eyes, you returned the look, grinning at him coyly.

~

Lucifer fumed, stomping around, a week had passed since Lucifer found out you and that god awful creature were a pair. He insisted on staying at the hotel in order to keep an eye on the demon; assure that you were safe. Lucifer kept a keen eye on Alastor, like a fly on the wall, but from what Lucifer could tell, Alastor was a perfect gentleman! It pissed him off entirely. Alastor bent over backwards for you, making your breakfast and coffee every morning, helping you style your hair, helping you dress, assisting you with tasks you loathed completing, hell one night Lucifer caught Alastor teaching you how to play the piano, and when you got angry at your consistent failures, Alastor would reassure you lovingly and patiently.

It drove Lucifer insane because as much as he cared for you, he selfishly wanted Alastor to be a bad partner, giving reason as to why he should leave his two daughters and the hotel alone! But everytime he looked for a flaw he found none, half the time he found himself impressed, Alastor knew what to say, and was confident in his charm. “Dad, you gotta relax! YN is fine.” Charlie said worriedly, placing a hand on her fathers shoulder. Lucifer sighed, slamming his head against the bar table. “They want to have kids, Charlie!” The man sulked, voice muffled by the wooden bar he tried to morph and become one with. “WHAT!? Oh my gosh! That would be amazing! Why wouldn’t she tell me?!” Charlie at this point was violently shaking her father with excitement, a slight bounce in her as she shook him.

Lucifer looked off to the side, guilt evident in his eyes. “They didn’t tell anyone; I overheard.” Today in fact, he overheard the two of you in the back of the hotel, having a picnic in the garden. You had your head in Alastors lap as he pet your hair and ears occasionally, and told you stories from when he was alive; which you greatly enjoyed since you’d been born in hell. When he began to speak about his mother the conversion shifted to parenthood, and then children. Originally Lucifer didn’t intend to stay long, he simply slithered through the grass to eavesdrop a bit, make sure all was well and leave.

But he couldn’t leave when he heard what Alastor had to say. “Y’know dear, I never considered having children, but then again, I never considered being married either. I’ve thought about children now, of course, ha ha,” Alastor laughed boisterously. You could tell it was to cover up the nerves he felt inwardly, but Lucifer found him to be insufferable and inconsiderate. “We don’t know if we can Al,” You said softly, reaching your hand to Alastors cheek. Alastor quirked a brow amusement visibly shining in his eyes that searched your face for something. “We’d just have to wait until mating season darling.” Lucifer gagged at that, you however didn’t quite understand and it made Alastor coo about how adorable you are.

“Oh so we’re not supposed to know they’re gonna try for a baby?” Charlie asked stunned, backing away from her father. “No,” He moaned, slamming his head back down on the table. Charlie gave her dad a look but brushed it off, this was very exciting for her, she’d only tell Vaggie, that way the two could both subtly baby proof the hotel!

~

Autumn in hell roamed around and it was one hell of a year, the hotel went under attack, Lucifer then made himself a whole quarter of the hotel his, and Alastor followed suit with his radio tower, Sir Pentious died, Adam died, there was so much hectic chaos you could barely keep up. Not to mention the beginning of October left you feeling odd, to say the least. You couldn’t completely understand why, not much changed in the recent days, aside from a few sinners checking in. Nothing bad happened between you and Alastor either; things have been fantastic, the two of you would have the occasional spat about morality and manipulation, but Alastor had your soul and was your mate, so in the end you’d give in to him, and he in his own way to you.

One of your biggest points of contention was Alastors multi-beneficial behaviour, if he was going to do something you knew it was double edged, one side benefiting him and the other side doing what he was supposed to with the illusion of being gracious. One of the biggest arguments was kids; Alastor talked about having them in ways that benefited him, how it would rank him above other sinners, he’d have bloodline in hell which would grant him further authority beyond the pride ring, he could train his offspring to be like him. In short, Alastor didn’t want children, he wanted mini hims, to run around killing and eating others.

You tried your best to convince him that a child was no means to power, but he truly couldn’t understand the point of having them besides that. You tried not to blame him, understanding he wasn’t a fairy prince he was Alastor, and you loved him for that, but at times dealing with his psycho was frustrating.

You’ve noticed him acting strange today, he insisted you wore his clothes he’d been wearing the day before, you thought that was the strangest thing and tried to squeeze the reasoning as to why he wanted you to wear his worn dirty clothes. Unfortunately you never fully got the answer out of him, aside from him tutting that he wanted to make ‘that devil’ seethe, so you did. It wasn’t like it really bothered you, hell he even went out of his way to magic the clothes to fit your frame baggily. You wore one of his washed out red button ups, and his slacks, thankfully you found the fit to be somewhat chic and enjoyed the idea of prancing around in clothes that were his, and smelt like him.

Walking down to the lobby like you did everyday, you were greeted by Alastor holding your cup of coffee as always, this time however his appearance looked worrisome. “What’s wrong Al?” You exclaimed rushing over to him, gazing up to him because his form was just slightly elongated. “Nothing my dear! Just a little bit of frazzle this morning!” You didn’t believe that for one second; his antlers were out and looked like they were peeling, his eyes were black and turned to dials, his neck elongated, smile strained and his hair puffed. “Was it you and Lucifer having some marital spat again?” You joke, taking your cup of coffee and following him into the kitchen.

“No dear, please refrain from commenting about that filthy devil, it’s insulting to replace you with him. It’s simply the change of seasons.” Setting his coffee on the counter top, he leaned on it, arms folded and looked over to you. Your ears folded down, a confused look taking over your face. “Is it a deer thing? I woke up feeling strange too, I’m sweating more than usual, and it’s hot, and sometimes my body will start tingling!” You explain hurriedly, slightly worried at what was going on.

Alastor swallowed, smile straining, he wasn’t equipped with how to handle the situation. “Well dear,” Alastor stalled, momentarily scratching the loose felt on his antler. You gazed at him waiting for a response, but it never came, he just filled the air with static, eyeing you up and down. “Hello, Al? I would prefer to know, you look stressed.” You urged leaning toward him, Alastor inhaled deeply, and exhaled a growl. Your body reacted instantly to the noise, feeling a travelling sensation of heat shoot from your groin to your head making you feel dizzy. “If we are to talk about such things, it will not be here.” He snapped eyes closed tightly, fists clenched, you had no clue what was up with him. Just as you were about to urge him further, Lucifer came skipping into the kitchen whistling a tune. “Oh heyyy guys!” Lucifer exclaimed in a valley girl-esque voice, strutting up to the two of you.

“Morning big daddy.” You say jokingly, it wasn’t that big of a deal to you two; you always referred to Lucifer by either his name or some variation of dad. Alastor however didn’t find this to be funny, you and lucifer watched as Alastor grew taller, his static deafening. “Uhhh morning pumpkin,” Lucifer muttered, eyes focused on Alastor as he spoke. You heard the clacking of heels against the floor and your attention turned to the door. Angel paused at the entrance looking between Al and Lucifer. At this point Alastor leered over Lucifer, bent abnormally so, you were eyeing Angel between the gap Alastor left open. You mouthed ‘help’ at Angel, but he only grimaced and slowly backed off. “Do not refer to them that way.”

The air thickened, Alastor was tall and violent looking, there was black substance leaking from between his yellow teeth, the lights were dimmed and flickering, while his radio played creepy and glitchy old timey music. His voice was nearly unrecognisable as he grit his words out at Lucifer, and for the first time in hell, you felt terrified of a sinner. Most of the seven sins weren’t this eerie when they got mad, neither were the hellborns, they mainly just killed whoever crossed them; no one had shown their true demonic powers in front of you before.

“Woah there, big fella… uh, alright! I’ll just leave you two to it! And i’ll be gone!” And just like that Lucifer scurried off in an extremely comical way. Alastor, despite Lucifer gone didn’t come back to himself, still hunched over breathing deeply, static crackling through the air. You didn’t exactly know what to do in this situation, so for a moment you just stood watching. Eventually, after about two minutes of silence, Alastor shrunk, ever so slightly, still tall and creepy but not nearly as much as before. The static ceased, and the lights returned to the usual brightness, Alastor looked down at you, his usual red eyes back. “I’m so sorry dear, I hope I didn’t frighten you.”

You swallowed harshly, you had a strange mix of fear and arousal swirling within you that you weren’t ready to share with the demon, so instead you shook your head, unconvincingly so. “No not at all Al, how come that made you so upset?” A soft record scratch came from him when you asked. “What ever do you mean?” He innocently asked, tone lifted in false innocence. Crossing your arms together, hip propped out, you eyed him closely trying to gage what you were dealing with. As your eyes ran from his antlers down, you stopped crudely at his hips, noting the strain that appeared.

Alastor wasn’t big on sex, and to be fair you didn’t exactly have a high libido either, you preferred make out sessions and sweet romance, not necessarily needing sex. So it wasn’t often you’d see him in such a state, normally he only showed arousal when he was actively involved with you. Without warning he leaned over you, hands splayed across the counter behind you, trapping you between him and the counter. “Naughty little doe, can’t keep your eyes off me?” Alastor mocked darkly, his breath brushing against your cheek. The way he contorted down from his stretched height didn’t look anatomically possible, and despite the terrifying look of him you felt giddy and cheeky, with the urge to egg him on further.

You couldn’t stop the smirk that crawled its way onto your face, biting your lip in an attempt to curb it, unfortunately Alastor saw. Forcefully he grabbed your cheeks with his claws, yanking your face upward to face him properly. “My dear, I’ve been playing nice but i can see the mischief in your eyes-” Before he could finish you flattened your fingers and palm flat against the bulge in his pants. Alastor stilled as you gave him a pout, doe eyes blinking up at him and your white ears pulled back.

Alastor growled at the sight, shamefully bucking into your warm hand. “I’m sorry, I can’t help it, you're so handsome, y’know?” You whined, your other hand placed on his forearm beside you. Alastor grunted, something you rarely heard from him. “Upstairs, go.” He replied flatly, staring beyond your head at the cabinets above. Giggling manically, you ducked under his arms and sprinted to your shared room. Your body felt on fire and you could feel the arousal between your legs. As you rushed up the stairs you bumped into Angel who grabbed you by the shoulders. “Woah there toots, where ya headed now so cracked out, are things with big red all good?” Before you could respond, Alastors demonic form made way down the hall, shadows crawling out from his feet and knocking out the lights.

“Oh yeah okay, makes sense.” Angel said in a hurry, before taking off leaving you to your own devices. Laughing aloud with a giant grin on your face you continued sprinting down the hall, just barely out of Alastors grasp. His radio was a good tell on how close he was to you, the static was going crazy nearly giving you a headache. You broke out into an anxious run, unable to fight off the anticipation of what would happen. When you got to the room, you ran inside shutting the door. You glanced around and decided a good hiding place would definitely be the most cliche, not under the bed but under a computer desk. You squished yourself underneath the desk, which was incredibly uncomfortable and pulled the chair in to cover you as much as you could.

The door suddenly creaked open, the shadows consumed the floor, the lights dying out. Alastors static couldn’t be heard, but you could hear and feel the vibrations of his footsteps around the room. “Oh sweet thing, I know you don’t truly want to hide from me. Why don’t you come on out to me?” His voice was smooth compared to before, the static left his voice, leaving his unique and rich voice all bare to your ears. The burning sensation in your body worsened and it felt torturous to deny your body any friction, you knew if you moved you were done for.

Despite not being in real danger, your heart kicked up in speed when you heard his nails drag across the wooden desk above, his hooves coming into sight at the corner. Alastor pulled out the chair, humming to himself as he sat down. You held your breath as you watched him spread his lags out, shadows darker than the dark room swarming up behind him. You watched him unbuckle his belt lazily, his head obscured from your view, only his clawed hand and crotch in sight. “Up,” He ordered once his belt was undone, and his shirt untucked. Slithering out from under the desk, you used his thighs to balance and help you lift yourself up. Before you could fully get up he grabbed you by the neck and tugged you into a firey kiss. His teeth scraped against yours, and his tongue instantly took over your mouth, exploring and tainting every inch of your mouth.

You moaned into him as his other hand gripped your hip, digging his nails deep into it. Yanking your body up, you now sat on his lap just below the large bulge he’d been teasing you with. You jerked your hips forward, yearning the friction of him against you. Alastor pulled away a string of saliva still connecting the two of you together, you whined throwing your head back slightly in defiance. You’d never wanted someone so badly before, it was even worse then the first time you’d met Al. Panting you wrapped your arms around his neck, humping him mindlessly, the only focus being on cumming. “Look at you,” Alastor sneered, gripping your hips and pushing you down against him. “So desperate, you’ve got no restraint. I’m disappointed in you, little doe.”

You croaked out what could only be described as a plea, but really it just sounded like a meek shout. Above the two of you Alastors antlers grew out, looking large and broad. “Y’know what time it is my dear.” Alastor groaned watching sweat slip down your chest, eye twitching as he held himself back. “Answer me.” He ordered sticking his nails into your tights, you gasped and moaned finding more pleasure in the act then pain. “No,” You cried softly and breathlessly. At that Alastor brought his head down to nuzzle the top of your head, careful of his antlers, and whispered in your ear. “Mating season.” You stuttered breathing out a “ha” noise, lacking humour and instead being replaced by desperation. In this position you could smell only his scent, and the arousal you left in the air, it made you feel dizzy with lust. You knew what this meant and it edged you further to the fall; he was going to mate you; breed you. You cried his name and begged for nothing, just tugging at his coat and begging for him, and only him.

The demon chuckled darkly moving away from your hair, and with lidded eyes he looked down at you, messily humping him, nearly on the verge of tears. What a sight to behold. His tentacles emerged lifting you above his lap, just enough for him to get his slacks off. Once off, he leaned back, you hoisted in the air still squirming, he practically lit up with a light bulb of an idea. Gripping himself through his boxers, Alastor slowly stroked himself; grinning cheekily up at you as he did so, seeing how instantaneously you were captivated by him. Without your knowledge, the tentacles worked around you, undoing, and slowly pulling off your (alastors), slacks. With one tentacle around your waist, two under each arm, and two underneath your knees keeping your legs pulled apart, there was too many tentacles to notice that your pants and underwear were being discarded.

Not to mention Alastor had you enamoured with the way he stroked himself, humming out noises of approval, just for you. You moaned when you felt the coldness of a tentacle inch up the entirety of your vulva, practically cupping your entire heat. You let out a guttural groan at the sensation, immediately jerking into his magic. “Oh fuck Alastor,” You cried shaking as the tip of the tentacle swirled your clit. Alastor watched you tentatively, enjoying all the ways your body reacted.

Alastor loved watching how your toes curled, or how your stomach would clench visibly, or how you feebly tried to pull your legs together. He sped his movements, enjoying the feeling of himself through his boxers, a little dribble of cum staining a wet spot on his drawers. Alastor rarely jerked off, but god did it feel good to put on a show for you, he loved the ways your eyes only focused on him, never moving away from what he was doing. Alastor saw you were coming close to the end, but if you were to cum, it was going to be around him. With the flick of a wrist, the tentacles plopped you back on his thighs, disappearing and making you cry out.

“Alastor please, please, please, I need you,” You whined bucking up into the air. Alastor grabbed your wrists that were flinging around slightly trying to keep yourself stable. Alastor would be the first to admit, it was extremely hard to keep his smile right now, he wanted to give you other expressions to burn into your brain. “Look at me darling.” Alastor cooed, not enjoying the fact your eyes were squeezed tightly shut. You were still mumbling incoherent pleas as you cracked them open, being greeted by Alastors chest and lazily leaned back figure, he was still stretched out to an abnormal degree which gave you and him more leeway. The way he looked at you as if you were a god, it made your stomach flutter, not to mention how he made you feel so effortlessly small, which in a way felt nice, especially with him.

“You’re so gorgeous dear, I hope our children have your eyes,” You curled forward against your will, gripping his shirt like it was your lifeline. You nearly came at his forwardness not to mention the certainty in his voice, and he found it to be oh so adorable. Carefully he lifted you and lined himself up with you, thanks to the help of his tentacles. Inhaling deeply, he briefly enjoyed the smell of your scent throughout the room, from your sweat, to your fragrances, to your arousal, it all intoxicated him all at once with need. Slowly he sat you down on him, you had made yourself so wet there was barely any resistance, you did however clench making it extremely difficult for Alastor to hold back.

Groaning loudly, the demon smiled wide, straining to keep his composure. You had fallen against his chest, gripping onto him tightly, mouth ajar, drool dripping, and eyes shut tightly, you were in bliss. The only thing your mind could comprehend was him, all of him, and having him breed you, mate you, fill you full of him. At that thought your hips involuntarily bucked up, your clit brushing against the curly pubic hair he had, that trailed up to his bellybutton. Alastor drew in a breath, leaning his head back against the large seat behind him, feeling electrified by your walls around him. Feet planted on the floor Alastor used his footing to fuck up into you harshly, jerking your body upward as he did so. You cried out his name, letting him use your body as he pleased, and use he did. Alastors gentleman ways were far behind him at this moment, his mind was clouded with one purpose and that was to breed you. He harshly jerked his hips up into you, bouncing you up and down on top of him at his own will and pace.

His head was still laid back on the head rest, exposing his neck to you. Speedily, as he jerked up into you, you focused on undoing the buttons of his collared shirt, your mind set on leaving bites and hickeys all along him. Once you gained access to his neck fully, you dived in moaning and dragging your teeth against his warm flesh. This caused him to snap forward, his arms caging you from behind, pushing you into him future. You licked, kissed and bit at his neck occasionally groaning his name, Alastor started to pant violently, growling every so often. Lifting his hips off the chair with you still there, he stood up, his tentacles assisting where ever he needed. With the new posture granted new access, and a new pace. With your legs wrapped his waist you could feel his his tail that wagged and stiffened repeatedly against you, it made your own wiggle in response.

Alastor was a true demon now, pushing your upper half backward, you fumbled afraid to fall and hit your head on the desk, but instead you were pleased to feel four tentacles holding you up, and keeping you from falling. Alastor dragged his claws down your now exposed chest, straight down to your clit, marking the trail down your skin with a discoloured line. It gave you goosebumps and you clenched in anticipation, as his movements had stunted a little bit ago. Finally his eyes met yours, clouded with lust and a deeper red colour than before, speaking of which- he could barely keep them open, so fucked out in his own lust. His movements began, slow and deep at first, his eyes never looking away from yours, and you were too hypnotised by his to even think about looking anywhere else but him. Alastor made sure with every thrust you felt it through your entire body, every prod was deep and forceful, and it worked making you see stars. You cried out clenching your legs around him as he finally began to pick up the pace, jolting your body with ever thrust.

As he rapidly picked up the pace, you moaned, whined and grunted out high pitched noises of pleasure that you never knew you could make. Alastor was growling, and grunting, teeth bared as he jackhammered into you, skin slapping filling the silent room. Bending forward to lean over you, he nipped and bit at your chest leaving prominite triangular teeth marks that were unmistakably his. With the current angle he hit a spot in you that caused you to squeal, screaming his name at the top of your lungs, you reflexively gabbed his antlers. “More, more,” You cried squeezing onto the thick antlers. Alastor moaned, not growled or grunted, moaned. His pitch was lifted and his eyes closed in bliss as he began to hump you desperately, his legs jittery from the excitement. Panting, he lifted his head to meet your eyes, which weren’t facing him but instead the wall, your head turned away shyly. Grabbing your face, he forced your head in his direction and crash his lips against yours.

It was an opened mouth kiss with no rhythm, just teeth, tongue and desire. You both moaned and panted into each others mouths, and each time Alastor let out a breathless moan, you clenched around him. Wrapping his arms around you, Alastor pulled his mouth away noses still touching. “I c-can’t dear, not gonna last.” Alastor gritted, making you whine and mutter incoherently, you were already gushing fluids all down his legs and balls like a water fountain. “Oh fuck,” Alastor moaned his static glitching in and out. His pace suddenly quickened to a sickening degree, every thrust he let out a breathy growl. “Gonna breed you,” He muttered against your lips before crashing them against you, with the senstaion of wet pubic hair bumping against your swollen clit, and his body heat suffocating you, you couldn’t hold out any longer. The coil snapped in you, liquid gushing rapidly out of you painting his cock with your fluids, your body violently convulsed against him, screeching his name like a wild animals.

Alastors eyes turned to dials as his pace quickened, your orgasm bringing his own on as he felt the pressure break, without care he continually hammered into you, moaning and groaning your name into the nape of your neck. Around the room the lights violently flickered and flashed various colours, the radio off to the side flicking on and off with a strange tune. The amount of cum he strung out felt inhuman, and it felt like it was bloating you up. After a few moments of him whining and fucking into you, his cum so bountiful it ended up leaking out of you with every pump. Eventually he stilled falling against you and his tentacles that were also shaking with strain and exhaustion. The flickering lights and crazy stereo glitching ceasing. Alastor gripped you tightly, his shadows encasing the two of you, and releasing you on your shared bed. Alastor hadn’t pulled out of you, instead he pulled you closer, his body snapping back to his regular size, and snuggled himself into your back.

You were barely responsive, still dazed and confused trying to catch your breath. Alastor played with your fingers absentmindedly, kissing your exposed shoulder. Sighing happily, you wiggled yourself back up into him. “I love you dear.” Alastor muttered, silently voice muffled from the fact his face was buried against your shoulder. “I love you too.” You felt him freeze against you, suppose he didn’t expect you to be coherent enough for you to realize or respond.

~

“I just think there’s something more going on ere’.” Angel teased grinning at you, Lucifer hand his head down against the bar, Charlie and Vaggie sat on the couch, Vaggie looked tired and pissed off. Husk was, well Husk, and Nifty was nowhere to be seen. “What do you mean?” You say innocently sitting at a chair with your morning coffee by your side. “Oh please! The whole seven rings heard you two!” The king wailed, grabbing his hat so hard it may have ripped. You felt heat crawl up your neck at the claim, surely you weren’t that loud right? “Oh ya! The whole hotels hydro went out, thanks a lot strawberry pimp, made my stereo go all haywire.” Angel snickered poking your thigh with a raise of his eyebrows. Alastor stood tall behind you, a relaxed smile on his face. “I had to hear you two moan all morning yesterday!” Lucifer cried out throwing himself off the chair dramatically throwing himself around in despair. Alastor growled beside you, and when you glanced up you were surprised to see his ears pinned back.

“Guys cmon, you’re making me uncomfortable.” You say, you weren’t at all uncomfortable, but you worried that Alastor may have been, and you knew he wouldn’t enjoy being pushed under the bus and presented as weak to sexual teasing. Charlie thankfully ushered her father a way, and Vaggie walked off with her giving both you and Alastor a glare. The room was momentarily silent once they left, you eyed Angel, and Husk throwing back alcohol at the bar. “So, kids eh?” Immediately Alastor morphed into his demonic form at Angels words. You gave Angel a look but he wasn’t afraid of either of you, instead he giggled and skipped over to Husk.

~

Cuddled down in your brand new duvets, compliments of Lucifer, you waited for your husband to get back. Thankfully Alastor was always punctual and never kept you waiting long. Beside you on the left side of the bed was a crib, decked out in soft pinks and reds, with black accents all around. Attached to the crib was a demonic mobile, with little wooden runes, teeth, and horn hung on it handmade by Alastor. You had given birth to your baby only a week ago, and Alastor was doting, and a little obsessed. He wouldn’t let you leave the hotel, and very rarely the room. If you did leave you were followed by him, his shadows and Husk. He’d been out today all day, doing a special broadcast which involved slaughtering dozens of citizens and broadcasting it just as a friendly reminder as to not get in his way, or mess with him.

It felt a little wrong, Alastor had told you his plans and when you looked down at your baby girls face you couldn’t deny him, you wanted people to stay away, so neither of you told Charlie or Lucifer where he’d be going, just that he’d be gone. And he was supposed to return shortly, you made sure to listen in on his torturous journey, slightly enjoying how hot he sounded. Beside you, Mara, your baby girl, stirred making baby noises as she did so. Leaning over you peaked in to see if she was actually awake or simply shuffling and making noises in her sleep. When you looked over you were greeted with big (e/c) baby eyes of your daughter, she had alastors hair and ears, but thankfully lacked his yellow teeth, you loved your husband but it was uh, his aesthetic. Scooping her up you cooed to her and placed her on your bare chest, petting the tiny wisps of red hair that sprout from her head. She was warm, and smelt like brand new baby, fresh skin, with fragments of yourself and Alastor lingering. Being a deer certainly heightened the pregnancy process, and Alastors fears of being like the wild bucks above on earth were quickly dismissed.

Alastor was enamoured with Mara the moment you found out you were pregnant, it was a very trying time considering everybody was absolutely against it or absolutely infatuated, you had people telling n the news obsessively writing articles about you two, Vox was absolutely up your guys’ ass, and Lucifer was his own little problem. He never left Alastor alone always hounding him on how to be a good dad and to not ‘eat the baby’, which always made the room go silent. Alastor suddenly materialized in the room, black shadows crawling away from his form as he stepped in. Immediately his eyes zeroed in on you and Mara, eyes brightening at the sight. Slinking over to the bed, Alastor slid in beside you arm coming around your shoulder while the other pet the baby’s head and little ears. “She’s just a beauty! Oh if only my mother could meet her.” You looked over to him at that, a little surprised at that, you were very aware he was a mommas boy but never had you thought of the fact he’s been so far from her for so long, and that he may inwardly desire to have her back in his life.

Little hands came up and grabbed onto Alastors long fingered claw, brining it to her mouth, Mara began to ‘chew’ on him. You grinned happily at the sight, Alastor chuckling beside you. “So, I was listening over the radio, but regardless, how’d it go?” You ask twisting your body toward him, he hummed pulling his hands away from Mara. “Oh it was spectacular, everything went swimmingly. I briefly met up with Rosie and relayed the news, she's absolutely thrilled at the birth of Mara, says we must come by with her for lunch.”

“Will you let that happen, I haven’t seen the outside in days.” Alastor hummed flatly giving you a playful cut eye. “Perhaps a day will be fine.” You snorted, focusing your attention back on the baby, placing a kiss on her forehead. “So, whadaya think, grandpa Luc-” Alastor quickly interjected. “Immediately no, but go on.” You laughed aloud, shaking your head at his behaviour. “Grandpa Luci, Uncle Angel, Uncle Husk, Auntie Charlie, Aunt Vaggie, then we have Cousin Nifty, andddd.” You trail off thinking about who else could be added to the equation. “Godmother Rosie?” Alastor pipped up, seeming genuinely happy, you agreed instantly, loving the idea of Rosie being the godmother should anything happen to you two. Or Lucifer, or Charlie.

Alastor gently gestured to the baby, signaling he wanted to hold her, so you passed her over delicately watching as she melted into Alastors chest. “So dear,” Alastor said with a mischievous tone, head tilting towards you. “Shall we feed her deer meat? I think it’s good to start em young!” You groaned, and rolled your eyes it seemed your first fatal relationship argument was kids, and now the next will be what to feed them.

[springdaydreams]

Gregory House x fem!reader (platonic?)

Warnings : none

Summary : Greg finds out something interesting about you.

Authors note : Not the biggest fan of this, could've been better, but the idea wont leave my head so I wrote it.

𓈒⟡₊⋆∘ 𓈒⟡₊⋆∘ 𓈒⟡₊⋆∘𓈒⟡₊⋆∘𓈒⟡₊⋆∘𓈒⟡₊⋆∘𓈒⟡₊⋆∘𓈒⟡₊⋆∘𓈒⟡₊⋆∘𓈒⟡₊⋆∘

Today was particularly rough, your coffee machine broke down so you had to settle for the crappy coffee in the breakroom, the cafeteria had ran out of your favourite chips, a patient puked on you so you had to change your clothes and by god's grace, all the anti-vaxxers in Jersey decided to come visit you today. Sitting down you let out a sigh, your feet hurt and your head felt like it was being pounded by an anvil closing your eyes in hopes for a fifteen minute shuteye, slowly drowning out the noises of the busy hospital. Suddenly your pager rings, the shrill noise cutting through the room, letting out a sharp exhale you take the pager in your hands and look at it, it’s a page from the NICU, nothing uncommon.

Standing up you rush out of the room, reaching the NICU, the nurse fills you on the patient, a seven month premature baby suffering a sudden attack of patent ductus arteriosus, as the baby flailed around trying to take breaths that he couldn’t catch, you’re held a scalpel your gloved hand tightening around the handle of it, bringing the sharp edge scalpel to the baby’s chest, just as you were about to make a cut the baby stopped breathing. Taking a deep breath you set the scalpel down “time of death?” “Twelve twenty am.” “I’ll go tell the parents.” Removing your gloves you walk out of the NICU towards the maternity ward, walking into the patient’s mother’s room “are you Miss Hennock?” “Yeah, what happened, is he okay?” Biting your lip, fighting back tears, “your son has passed on twelve twenty am.”

“What? How?”

“He suffered from patent ductus arteriosus”

“no no no, that can't be possible.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

The mother broke down in tears. Her screams could be heard by the whole floor, walking out of the maternity ward, the screams still playing in your mind, stopping by a pillar. You rest your back on the pillar, closing your eyes as tears threaten to spill, hugging your body for comfort. After a few seconds of solitude you hear the familiar tapping of a cane, opening your eyes you see Greg House walking, as he reaches you he stops and stares, staring back at him “what?”

With no response he goes back to walking to wherever he was going.

After fifteen minutes of peace the screams of someone interrupt, sighing you decide to go up to the roof. Just as you were climbing the stairs, you reach the breakroom, opening your locker you take you alcohol flask, walking to the roof you sit down on the edge, taking in a deep breath, you open your flask and take a big sip after 15 minutes and a half empty flask you hear the door open, looking back you see House limping towards you.

“Why're you here?”

“You looked like you wanted to die down there, was hoping you didn’t.”

“Awwww, you care about me.”

“Considering you’re slurring, I would like to consider you’ve finished that flask.”

“No, there’s still some.” You shake the flask.

“ So what happened down there?”

“Oh, nothing important.”

“You were on the verge of tears, someone definitely died.”

“Why do you sound so sure?”

“The last time I saw you cry was when one of your patients had died.” he says affirmatively

“Maybe my mom died?”

“Your mom’s been dead for seven years”

“How'd you know?”

“I like snooping, so what's so special today?”

“Nothing just a NICU accident.”

“That's why you're crying?”

“You know what House, lemme tell you a story, sit down” you pat the spot next to you “your crippled leg must hurt.”

As he sat down, “So what's this story about?”

“About ten years ago, in my third year of medical school, I met a man with the prettiest grey eyes, like the clouds on a rainy day.”

“Where is this going?”

“Sush, so we get to talking and a few months into dating he proposes to me and I say yes” “Want some?” you push the flask towards him.

“Yes” he takes the flask from you.

“So anyways, we get married and a few months later I get pregnant, we were so happy”

“You were married?”

“A few months into the pregnancy I start noticing he had started to become distant with me, coming home later than usual, leaving early, talking about that one new nurse that started working at the hospital, so one day i decide to visit him in the hospital, going around the hospital I couldn’t find him so I start to go back when I hear voices in a broom closet and when i open it, I see him and the new nurse he kept talking about, eating eachothers faces.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

He notices tears welling in your eyes.

With a shaky voice and a tight chest you continue, “so we had an argument and then he apologised and I thought everything would go back to normal, but it did not, we started to fight more he started to act weird and one day we have a huge argument like plate smashing and yelling, the argument gets so big he threatens to kill himself. We’re standing in the kitchen, he's holding a knife to his neck, i'm standing a few feet away from and we’re yelling and suddenly he cuts his neck, blood spraying everywhere the stress from the event puts me into early labour, I somehow manage to call 911 and then everything was a blur.”

“You are going to regret this in the morning.”

“The next thing I remember is holding my dead baby in my arms.”

He was rendered speechless.

“That's why I was crying, do you miss Stacy?”

Taken aback by the sudden question, he looks at you “yeah, why?”

“I miss him a lot, I loved him and he had to love me, somewhere sometime between the cheating and lying.”

“Stop” he gets up “you’re drunk.”

You smile at him, “I'm sad.”

“Aren’t we all sad?”

𓈒⟡₊⋆∘ 𓈒⟡₊⋆∘ 𓈒⟡₊⋆∘𓈒⟡₊⋆∘𓈒⟡₊⋆∘𓈒⟡₊⋆∘𓈒⟡₊⋆∘𓈒⟡₊⋆∘𓈒⟡₊⋆∘𓈒⟡₊⋆∘

fin

[torukmaktoskxawng]

'anla - part three

Series Masterlist

Summary: A race against time and the problem with having a large family.

Pairing: Ao'nung/Fem!Na'vi!Sully Reader

Warnings: Mature language, time skips, strict parents, blood/gore, HEAVY angst, death, canon typical violence, canon compliance, slow burn, etc.

Word Count: 5k+

Tag: #'anla ao'nung fic

Na'vi Words: tulkun - whale like animal, ilu - dolphin/plesiosaur like animal, ikran - Mountain Banshee, kuru - queue braid, tanhì - bioluminescent freckle, tsurak - skimwing, ionar - riding visor, tsaheylu - bond, matxe'lan - my heart

posted on ao3

Taglist (red indicates "could not tag"): @aonungmyaddiction @lv9su @aisselasstuff @yourusername1 @amortencjja @king-julian6201 @gg-trini @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @mikeyswifie

A/N: I'm only tagging those who specifically asked to be tagged as of rn. If you don't see your user in the taglist and you want to be added, please lemme know. Also, please reread part two before reading this. Thank you!

It was a dream turned into a nightmare. For a split second, Y/n wanted to drag Ao'nung by the hand and demand he takes her back to the Spirit Tree if it meant she could have one more minute of peace. The intrusive thought, however, immediately vanished when the Omatikaya girl finds herself gently holding a crying Tsireya while the entire village becomes an uproar of war cries all around them. Ronal is demanding justice for the murder of her Spirit Sister and calf, her eyes swimming with grief and anger as she mentioned the ones responsible for this crime.

The Sky People were here.

Y/n looks around, spotting her family among the crowd. In his hands, Neteyam held a long and red metal object, equipped with a sharp tip and light. Beside him, Jake is trying to calm the people, begging them to stop and think. Neytiri silently watches, a haunted look of recognition in her eyes as if she had seen all of this before. Kiri held onto her mother's shoulder as a comfort for both of them and Lo'ak, alone, stood small and quiet among the crowd while Tuk is nowhere to be found.

Her father continued to plead with the Metkayina people while Y/n drowned his voice out. She, too, had heard it all before and instead focused more on Tsireya, the reef girl shaking in fear, her innocence in question aside from what the villagers decided to do. Kiri had vanished from the crowd, likely off to find Tuk with danger so close to their new home, making a sickly feeling form in Y/n's stomach.

It only worsened when Jake took the red object, the tracker, from Neteyam's hands and held it out to the crowd, hushing them as he spoke, "You tell the tulkun that if they're hit with this, they're marked for death. And call for me, I'll silence it. Saving their lives, that's all that matters. Right? Saving your family."

Tonowari and Ronal exchange a silent conversation with their eyes alone, before turning to their people, "Tell the tulkun."

"Go. Go!"

The Metkayina scatter, and through the chaos, Tsireya turned to Y/n, eyes widening in a horrifying realization, "Lo'ak--"

"I know," determination fills Y/n's lungs as she grabbed Tsireya's arm and pulled her along, "Let's go."

The girls sprinted toward the docks, asking around for their friends as they went. Eventually, they spot two teenage boys. Not the ones Y/n was particularly looking for, but ones that Tsireya reached for in her panic, "Ao'nung, Rotxo, have you seen Lo'ak?"

"No." Rotxo paused, looking between the two girls, "What is going on?"

Y/n's walk begins to pick up, a scowl permanent on her face, "Take a guess."

She takes off down the walkways, heading toward the hut holding the ilu harnesses, not caring if the others followed her or not. Tsireya and Ao'nung take off after her with Rotxo in tow, all four of the teenagers making their way to the edge of the village. Y/n is the first one there and the first one to spot both of her brothers arguing until they spotted her.

"Lo'ak! 'Teyam!" She called out.

Lo'ak's head whipped around to spot her, Neteyam a little slower to react as Lo'ak begins to back away, pulling his arm out of his big brother's hold, "Get off me--"

Tsireya and the others catch up to Y/n and try to reach out, "Lo'ak!"

"Lo'ak!"

"Come back!"

He doesn't answer the reef girl or his brother and dives into the water below without another word, quickly disappearing into the deep with his ilu. Neteyam turned to the other teens, thumping Ao'nung's chest as he passed him, "Come on! He's going to Payakan!"

Neteyam claps his hands and makes various different calls to summon a ride of his own. The others call for nearby ilu, expertly diving into the water as they all follow suit, in sync and in formation like they have done in recent hunting parties. The ilu fly through the water, jumping out and back in through the waves, picking up speed and desperate to get to Lo'ak as he pushes through far ahead of them.

"Lo'ak! Come back!" Tsireya called up to him in between jumping up through the water before diving back down.

At one point, Kiri with Little Tuk had joined in the race as well, following after their friends and their siblings, confused by the urgency. Soon enough, the group was beyond the reef, close to Three Brothers Rocks when Lo'ak had eventually slowed his ilu, calling out for his Spirit Brother. Payakan had responded, though his calls were not one of joy or greeting. The poor tulkun sounded as though he was in pain. When Lo'ak asked what was wrong, the bull turned until the Na'vi boy noticed the bright red tracker piercing his flesh.

"Shit!" Lo'ak exclaimed while jumping onto Payakan's fin and then climbing onto his back, signing to his Spirit Brother to stay calm.

The rest of the group had caught up to Lo'ak and immediately clocked the situation, all eyes turning when they heard the sound of rotor blades. A demon ship was slowly coming out of hiding from behind the large rock cliffs peeking out of the sea, drifting over to the children and tulkun menacingly. Taking action, Neteyam and Y/n hop off their ilu and climb onto Payakan's back, lifting Tsireya and Ao'nung out of the water to help Lo'ak pull the tracker out of the injured tulkun. Everyone tried pushing and pulling the pinger out, together, with all their might as Lo'ak quickly called in their location to Jake. Neteyam eventually got an idea and used a rope to latch onto the saddle of his ilu, throwing the other end to Ao'nung after shouting his name so the reef boy could tie it to the embedded tracker. 

Ao'nung successfully knots the rope around the red pinger, encouraging Neteyam to pull, "Go, go, go!"

"Pull! Now!" Neteyam demands as he orders his ilu to swim, the strain of the rope tightening as the ilu struggles with all its might, flapping its fins in the water.

"Everybody! Together!"

"Pull!"

Rotxo and Lo'ak pull at the very end of the tracker, while Ao'nung tries pulling at the rope now attached to it. Tsireya tries pushing it out with her foot while Y/n takes both hands and grips tightly onto the base of the needle that stuck out of Payakan's flesh, pulling that with all her might. 

"Pull! Harder!"

"Pull!"

Y/n was the first to feel the tracker loosen and eventually, the pinger releases its grip on Payakan and the force of the rope threw all the teenagers into the water, each of them shouting in surprise as they splash into the sea.

"It's out! Kiri! It's out!"

"Go. Tuk, go!"

"Go! Everybody!"

"Go on, get out of here!"

They don't take time to revel in their small victory. Panicked on borrowed time, the kids immediately swim to their mounts and round each other up. Lo'ak instructs Payakan to dive and get as far away as possible while the others were screaming to one another to hurry up, the demon ship nearly upon them.

Chaos erupted after that. The children were forced to split up after Neteyam took the tracker to draw the Sky People away from the others. Depth charges were tossed into the water, exploding on impact and confusing the children, rattling their teeth and ringing their ears. Neteyam had a couple of close calls but was at least able to stay attached to his ilu as he ditched the tracker, letting it sink to the bottom of the reef. By the time he had lost the Sky People, he looked around and realized that he had been completely separated from his siblings.

Meanwhile, the other Sully children and the Metkayina trio were hiding underwater with their ilu among a forest of gigantic seaweed as they were being pursued by the Sky People's crab suits and submersibles. Weaving through the kelp and trying to keep a safe distance, the children urge their mounts to swim away, the sweet creatures clicking to one another in distress. 

At one point, Y/n loses sight of half of the group as she maneuvers her way through a thicket of seaweed while being pursued by a crab suit, long claws stretching out to try and grab her. She dodges and weaves expertly, her thighs clenching tightly around the saddle of her ilu with the muscle memory of an ikran rider. Her stomach clenches once and Y/n noted that she would need air soon after hiding down here and holding her breath for so long. She needed to lose the demon crab, the others were no longer her priority until she can shake her pursuer. Out of the corner of her eye, Y/n caught sight of another demon crab searching through the seaweed, unbeknownst to her presence. Thinking fast, she sharply turns her ilu and frantically swims over, the crab that had been chasing her still right on her tail. With speed and the element of surprise, Y/n ambushed the unsuspecting crab suit and swiftly swims over it, causing both crabs to crash into one another in pursuit of her. Y/n beams smugly while looking over her shoulder, happily watching the way the machines struggled and quickly forget about her before slowing her swim, looking around in search of the others.

She catches sight of Kiri and turns toward the direction she spotted her sister, ordering her ilu to leave after disconnecting her queue braid. Y/n followed Kiri after she noticed Rotxo and Ao'nung with her. The three others caught sight of Y/n and even look relieved, waving her over and signing for her to follow them for air. Ao'nung takes the lead, swimming ahead, without an ilu, as he finds an underwater pod, swimming up into the center of the blooming flower for a pocket of air. Rotxo has the Omatikaya girls swim ahead of him, letting them swim up after Ao'nung, who grabs Kiri's arm first to bring her up for air, then Y/n. All four teens gather snugly together in that small pocket of air, taking their breaths while Kiri looked around frantically.

"Where is Tuk? Did you see her?"

Y/n's eyes widen, "You mean she's not with you?"

"She had fallen off, but I don't think the Sky People noticed. They were too busy with us."

"I think we lost them," Ao'nung stated.

"What do we do?" Rotxo asked.

Kiri's pupils shrunk and grew rapidly through her panic, "We can't stay here. We gotta find the others. Any of you see Lo'ak and Tsireya?"

"No. It all happened so fast--"

"We find Tuk first," Y/n exclaims, ears pinned back and staring them all down with authority, "She's all alone, then we find the others."

"What about Mom and Dad?" Kiri questioned her older sister.

"Lo'ak called it in. They're on their way, likely with an army. 'Teyam drove the demon ship away, leaving us with whatever is left of their subs," her face suddenly splits with a twinkling, uplifting grin, "I already damaged two. You guys need to catch up."

Kiri rolled her eyes but let out a huff of air resembling a short bout of laughter, her adrenaline appreciating the small bit of humor Y/n tried to break through the tension. Looking around at the other three, Y/n raised her eyebrows, "We ready?"

Ao'nung nodded then turned to his friend, "Rotxo, you go first. I'll stay in the back, in case we need to grab them and swim out of there fast."

Kiri and Y/n exchange a look but say nothing, both internally shocked that Ao'nung didn't take the time to make a 'bad divers' comment while Rotxo just nods, "Right."

He takes a long, practiced breath and sinks back down into the water. Y/n expands her stomach as she takes a deep breath and holds it, following Rotxo as her arms and legs push and pull her through the water. Kiri is not far behind and Ao'nung follows suit, the teenagers carefully looking around, cautious for signs of danger. Rotxo led them all back the way they came in search of Tuk, but the longer they swam, the more things looked unfamiliar. He had turned to swim backward while signing to the others following closely behind him, 'We should have seen her by now.'

Y/n briefly grabs Kiri's shoulder before signing, 'No Sky People either. Maybe we should--'

Throat grunts echo behind her, Y/n's ears perking up at the sound as she spins around. Ao'nung was frantically clicking to grab their attention, pushing Kiri forward as he quickly motions, 'Demon!'

A small submersible appears from behind the large seaweed, bright searchlights blinding the Na'vi children as it spots them. Ao'nung continues to shove the girls forward until they pick up enough energy to swim away, trying to lose the sub around a large coral reef at the edge of the kelp forest. They swim close to the wall of the reef, all the while the sub maintained speed. In her determination to get away, Y/n lost sight of Kiri for a moment only to realize too late that her adopted sister had hung back. Y/n mewls deep in her throat as a way of screaming a warning, stopping and trying to turn around to go back for Kiri, but Ao'nung was suddenly there and he was using his powerful legs and tail to push Y/n in the opposite direction. Y/n tries to struggle but remembered to slow her heartbeat when she realized her thrashing was draining her of oxygen. Looking around for Kiri, all three turned back and notice the girl had attached her kuru braid to a nearby daisy anemone, watching the large plant-like sea creature move and grow out its long tentacle entrapments at her command. 

The submersible arrives and is unaware of the trap until Kiri uses both of her arms' movements to mimic a push as if she was forcing someone off of her. The command is clear as the anemone reaches out, grabbing hold of the sub and completely encasing it with its tentacles. Kiri then uses one arm to mimic smashing something to the side of her, then the anemone pulls the sub in, smashing it against the side of the reef, squeezing the sub until the glass shatters and collapses within itself. When the sky demons within the sub try escaping out the hatch, Kiri makes a motion mimicking the way she would squeeze fruit for a fun and juicy treat as a child, only she made this motion with a menacing glare. The tentacles completely surround the Sky People, swallowing them whole and squeezing them to death. Kiri lowers her arms, satisfied even as her tanhì flickers up and down her entire body.

Ao'nung and Rotxo look at each other, amazed, confused, and a little freaked out. Y/n was used to her sister's... strange abilities and instead tried focusing on holding her breath. She had been underwater for far too long. Ao'nung and Rotxo were just fine and Kiri was strangely accustomed to holding her breath just as long as a Metkayina could, even without training, leaving Y/n to be the only one who was starting to struggle. Her lungs and stomach clenched and constrict, begging for air. Y/n's hands rise to her mouth and nose, forcing them to stay closed as she tries not to panic and keep her heart steady. Black spots started to dot her vision when she looked up to the surface, catching the sun rays peeking through the water.

Y/n grunts deep in her throat to get the others' attention. Kiri and the boys all turn and she frantically signed, 'Need to breathe.'

Kiri swims forward, gesturing with her hands, 'We can't wait for it to be safe. Need to go up.'

Ao'nung and Rotxo move then, taking Kiri's orders when she told them to bring Y/n up to the surface, 'I'll be right behind you.'

Ao'nung took one of Y/n's arms and Rotxo took the other. Together they use their speed to swim the forest girl up to the surface. The moment she felt air on her face, Y/n gasped for breath, sputtering and coughing with whatever water she had accidentally inhaled. Rotxo had let go of Y/n's arm and Kiri emerged, taking deep, more steady breaths. If she had taken the time to notice through her panicked breathing, Y/n would have noted the firm hold Ao'nung still had on her other arm.

The teens form a circle as they breathe but are not spared a moment of peace. The silence should have been a warning before an ikran, armed in Sky People gear and sporting a Recom for its rider, swooped down out of nowhere, wrapping its talons around Kiri's arms and plucking her out of the water like she weighed nothing. 

Kiri screamed, kicking the air as she struggled, "LET ME GO! NO! SISTER, HELP!"

"KIRI!" Y/n screams, staring up and watching in horror as the ikran takes her sister away. Once she realized the banshee was taking Kiri to the demon ship, Y/n immediately began to swim. Her limbs, however, protested. Her arms were heavy and her lungs spasmed, everything begging her to rest even through her determination to go after her sister.

"No!" Ao'nung grips Y/n's elbow a little tighter. She spun back to hiss at him, but noticed the way his entire hand was able to wrap around her whole arm and found it pointless as he continued, "You'll be faster on your ikran. Let's go home and bring back reinforcements."

"No, no, no, I can't. I have to find Tuk!" Y/n exclaims, now allowing her panic to sink in at the idea of all of her siblings separated from one another, "I have to get Kiri back and find Tuk! I have to find Lo'ak and Neteyam--"

"Y/n." She paused at the sound of her name, turning back to the reef boy holding her. Ao'nung makes sure she's looking him in the eyes as he nods encouragingly, "They'll be fine. Look."

He turns his head and Y/n follows his gaze, her yellow eyes widening by what she saw. Fire, for one, lining along the ocean's surface, and a battlefield between the Na'vi and the Sky People. Boats and gunfire ring out against tsurak and Metkayina spears. It was an all-out war, and Y/n couldn't find herself looking away from it.

Ao'nung does, however. Moving his hand up from her elbow to grab her shoulder instead, pulling her gaze back to him, "Our fathers are driving them back. We can use this to buy time to get whoever is left at the village. Come on, Forest Girl. You need your ikran."

He knew -and she did, too- that Y/n stood a better fighting chance in her element, upon her own mount and using her own weapons. Even so, her stomach drops, dread filling her heart at the idea of her brothers and sisters among all that death and destruction. She wasn't sure if she had the willpower to run back now, and somehow, she managed to say it with her eyes alone without ever speaking a word.

And somehow, Ao'nung heard her. She watches his eyes as he reads something written on her face before a decision was made. Ao'nung expression of reassurance melts into something determined, nodding sternly at her as he calls and clicks with his tongue, summoning an ilu.

Rotxo does the same, confused and unsure what decision had been made, and two ilu emerge from the depths. Without a word, the boys climb onto the backs and Ao'nung drags an exhausted Y/n to sit behind him, making sure her hands were secure around his waist before internally ordering the ilu to dive. Y/n hangs on for dear life, taking another deep breath as they submerge underwater. She pressed her whole front against Ao'nung, afraid that she wouldn't have the strength to hold on otherwise, and the warmth radiating along his back was the smallest bit of reassurance she didn't realize she needed.

The swim back to Awa'atlu was longer than she remembered. Eventually, she had to pat Ao'nung's stomach to let him know she needed air. They resurface just outside the large atoll seawall. Without even looking for the village beyond the wall, Y/n remembered to breathe and her first exhale was a shout. She mimicked a bird call, shouting at the top of her lungs as she, Ao'nung, and Rotxo swim through the tunnels of the weaving atoll. Y/n kept yipping and calling out until finally she received an answer. A screech rings out and slowly a large form flies over the treetops behind the Metkayina village, flying over open water and toward the teenagers. 

Hope floods Y/n's chest at the sight of her loyal friend flying toward her. She smiles briefly, sitting up straighter in the ilu saddle as she squeezes Ao'nung's shoulder, "Don't wait up for me, Seaweed Brain."

Ao'nung smirked at her from over his shoulder, "Honestly, Forest Girl? That's all you have to say? Why not 'Thank you, Ao'nung' or 'Be safe, Ao'nung'?"

"Who's Ao'nung?" She grinned back as the shadow of her ikran looms overhead, "I only see you."

Both of them had frozen at her words, eyes widening at one another, the only sound between them being the squeaking ilu, clapping its fins in response to whatever emotions were going through the bond between the creature and Ao'nung. Thankfully, Y/n didn't have to backtrack or rephrase her words as her ikran decided to drop in at the perfect time. Talons out as she dove forward, the ikran screeches again, breaking the awkward air around the teens. The spell breaks and Y/n looks up, holding her hand out just in time as she grabs hold of her banshee's open talon. The ikran bats her wings as hard as she could, banking up high in the air and completely pulling Y/n out of the water. Ao'nung and Rotxo watch the display in amazement, necks craning up with eyes wide and jaws dropped. Y/n pulls herself up and climbs onto the back of her mount, finding her ionar in its respectful saddle pouch and slipping them over her eyes before completing the tsaheylu. 

"Good timing, Evi," Y/n whispered to her ikran, patting the mighty beast's neck, "Thank you."

~~~~~~~~~

The sky was dark as eclipse rolls around, the fires from prior explosives the only thing lighting up the war zone. It was like a waking nightmare for Jake Sully, watching a small group of teenagers come rolling onto the shore of the rock face he had landed on. Quickly, he noticed something was wrong, running over as Lo'ak waved him down.

"Dad! Dad, help! It's Neteyam!"

Tsireya briefly closes her eyes as a harsh wave smacks her in the face, ears drooping when listening to the sounds of Neteyam's coughs. He was weak, short of breath even through her lessons on how he could take large gulps of air for deep diving. It scared her, "Hurry!"

Lo'ak peers back at his brother before sinking into the water, dismounting his ilu and handing his brother to Tsireya, "Here, take him!"

"Oh, no," Jake gasped as he took in the horrific sight of the half-drowned kids trying to pull his wounded firstborn to shore, blood pouring from his chest like the water he was floating in.

Lo'ak keeps repeating the same words through his fear, "It's Neteyam! He's hurt!"

Spider, the only human among them, reaches out for Toruk Makto's arm as he grasps Neteyam's body, "Jake, come on! Come on!"

"Hurry, please!" Lo'ak begs.

Jake finally snaps out of his daze and grabs Spider's arm, trying to help drag all the connected teenagers to shore, "Pull!"

"Bro, watch his head, watch his head!" Lo'ak instructs Spider, panic set in as he watches Neteyam's eyes begin to roll back, the older boy still coughing and otherwise unaware of his surroundings. 

"Pull! Come on!" Jake grunts, finally managing to get all the kids out of the water. He grabs Neteyam's torso, lifting him in the air while Lo'ak and Spider have his sides and Tsireya has his legs. Jake has them bring Neteyam to more solid ground before lowering him, "Just watch his head. Okay--" 

Neteyam shallowly breathes, unable to suck in more air as Lo'ak grasps one of his hands, squeezing hard in comfort, "It's okay, bro. We got you."

Jake pushes Neteyam onto his side, immediately clocking the exit wound bleeding profusely with the help of Spider's flashlight, "Oh, no," looking around, frantic, he instead grabs Lo'ak's hands and presses it harshly against Neteyam's bleeding chest, "Put pressure-- put pressure on it!" 

Neteyam stifles a grunt at the pressure against his chest, trying to get a word out, "Dad, I--"

"It's okay, I'm here!"

Neytiri lands her ikran when she spotted a few members of her family, barely pulling her braid from her mount before running over to the scene, muttering in fear and denial, "No, no, no, no, no!"

"It's okay. It's okay, son, I gotcha." Jake comforted.

Lo'ak tries the same, "It's okay..."

"Dad, where's Y/n?" Neteyam's eyes wildly looked around, unfocused and frightened.

"I don't-- I-- I don't--"

"Where's Y/n?"

"We'll find her, son, we'll find her--"

"--Is she alright?"

It was like his son couldn't hear him, the shock setting Neteyam into panic mode as Jake tries to firmly reassure him, "Neteyam--"

"Is she alright?"

"She's gonna be fine, boy. She'll be here soon."

"More... Tell her-- tell her-- 'find more.'"

"Alright, alright, I will."

Neteyam briefly looked relieved before tears started to brim in his eyes. Just this once, he allows himself to be a little boy again, tearful and sad, "I want to go home..." he grunts out before gasping rapidly, the words exhausting him.

Jake's voice quivers, holding his son's shoulder, "I know. I know. It's okay, we're goin' home. We're goin' home." 

He softens his voice, pushing the desperation away to try and calm his son, as if he was still an infant he was soothing to sleep, "We're going home. It's okay, it's okay."

"Dad, I..."

~~~~~~~~~

The battle was already starting to disperse when Y/n finally arrived, flying in on her ikran. She had spotted a few stranded Sky People and made quick work of them before they got any ideas, taking her bow and arrows from their places attached to Evi's saddle. Like her mother, Y/n didn't miss and continued onward without ever even watching the bodies drop.

It was almost too quiet for her liking, with only the beat of an ikran's wings to keep her company. Searching around and wishing she had a throat mic to contact her family for their location, Y/n's heart sank when she couldn't find the demon ship, wondering if it had left or if something worse had happened to it. Did it sink? If it sank, then they won. But where was Kiri if she was meant to be on that ship? Where are Tuk and Y/n's brothers? Where are her parents?

Her questions are answered when a geyser sprays out of the water, rocketing almost high enough to hit Y/n. Evi squawks as she evades the water spray and Y/n looks down, spotting Payakan below, unharmed. Flying like a vulture in circles so she can get a better look at the tulkun, Y/n's eyes squint as she catches sight of a small ring of blue bodies, drifting over the top of Payakan's only pectoral fin. Gasping in shock, Y/n orders her ikran to dive, pulling her smaller body closer to Evi's as they fall. Once close enough to the water, Y/n suddenly asks Evi to pull up, and as the ikran lifts its wings to catch the air and slow her descent, Y/n holds her breath and breaks her bond with her banshee, diving into the water. She immediately swims back up to the surface and paddles over to the tulkun, where she had seen the group of blue bodies.

"MOM! DAD!"

Jake's ears perk up as he pulls away from the family embrace, and hurriedly looks around until he spots a familiar figure in the water. He wheezes in pain because of his injuries, but he lifts his arm and frantically waves, "Y/n!"

Neytiri follows her mate's gaze and nearly sobs in relief, crying and smiling all at once, "Y/n, matxe'lan! Matxe'lan!"

Lo'ak, Kiri, and Tuk also chime in, relieved and excited to see their big sister, alive and well, "Y/n!"

"Y/N!"

"Sister!"

Y/n is crying and shaking in relief as she finally reaches her family, both her mother and father pulling her up onto Payakan's fin when she couldn't find the strength to do it herself. The parents nestled their oldest daughter between them, each embracing her one at a time and surrounding her in their hugs, Neytiri even going as far as to kiss all over Y/n's face.

Jake is almost beside himself, hushed exhales escaping him as he settles his cheek over the top of Y/n's head and closes his eyes in relief, "You're okay. You're okay, sweetheart."

For a moment, she revels in the peace and her parents' embrace before looking around, inspecting each of her siblings' faces before she took a head count in her mind. She pulls away to look at her mother's face, "Where-- Where's Neteyam?"

Immediately, Neytiri's face falls, and unshed tears quickly form in her aging eyes. Her hand reaches up to cup Y/n's face while looking each of her daughters in the eyes, "Y/n... my girls... something happened."

~~~~~~~~~

Payakan brings all of them to the flat rock faces sticking out of the ocean, forming small islands of their own in the middle of the empty war zone. The Sully family slowly and painfully drag themselves to shore and Lo'ak thanks Payakan before the tulkun leaves. Y/n catches her breath and looks around, finding Tonowari and Ronal, standing off to the side, holding Ao'nung and a sobbing Tsireya in their arms. Lo'ak calls out the reef girl's name and Tsireya starts a new round of crying as she broke away from her parents to embrace him. Ao'nung briefly looks up when the Sullys arrived and locked eyes with Y/n, and to her sinking horror, he looked at her with pity and sorrow. 

She soon found out why when the sound of Tuk's crying rang in her ears. Y/n spun around, ready to defend her baby sister, until she realized that there was no danger. Tuk was crying over a body, holding its arm to her little chest and hand to her face, sobbing. Neytiri blocked Y/n's view as she knelt on the other side of the body, picking it up and holding the head close to her chest. Y/n looks around and catches Jake's eyes as he looked at her expectedly, waiting for her reaction with broken eyes and tear tracks running down his aging face.

Y/n begins to catch on to what was happening, but the words that fled her mouth were ones of denial, "No... no no nononono."

She stomps over to her family, kneeling down around the legs of the body as she frantically looks around, "What's wrong with Neteyam? Mama, don't just stand there! What's wrong with him?! Someone help him! Help him!"

"Maite..."

"Don't!" She pushes Neytiri away and hovers over the body, kneeling down to it opposite Tuk. She finally allows herself to stare at her twin brother's face, and she's haunted by those unblinking eyes, unfocused and staring off at a place they couldn't see anymore. Panicked, Y/n roughly grabs Neteyam's jaw and tries tilting his head around to make him look at her, "'Teyam. 'Teyam? Wake up. You're okay, you're okay, you're okay..."

She is met with silence, and that almost rings louder in her ears than the sound of a roaring waterfall. His eyes still don't blink and his mouth never moves. Y/n, from that day forward, wished she had never looked down, because all the blood was permanently sewn into her memory and purged her nightmares. 

One look at the gunshot puncturing her twin brother's chest, Y/n became a madwoman, roughly grabbing onto Neteyam's shoulders, "TSMUKAN! ZA'U NE'ÌM TSONTA, RUTXE! RUTXE!"

The noise that escapes her lungs is unlike any sound ever heard on Pandora. It pierces the air, shattered and broken like glass to the point where it had to hurt her throat. Tuk was completely terrified, scared to see her oldest sister lose her cool and continue crowing and sobbing like a feral, wounded creature. It was heartwrenching to listen to, and even worse to watch.

Y/n rocked herself back and forth as she sobbed uncontrollably, trying to find the smallest bit of comfort as she held her other half in her arms. Neytiri tried to be her comfort, even through her own shattered cries. Neytiri knelt on the other side of Neteyam's body, holding his shoulder in one hand and Y/n's in the other. The twins, neither living nor dead, noticed or even acknowledged their mother's touch.

"NETEYAM!"

Y/n's last words to Neteyam are roughly translated to: "BROTHER! COME BACK TO ME, PLEASE! PLEASE!"

A/N: So... uh... did I not mention that I write heavy angst? I think I should've put that in my resume. I have several blogs for several fandoms, and if you asked my followers anywhere else, they'll tell you I write angst on purpose. I write angst to make them suffer. Their tears keep me young forever.

Although I can't say this was written without any of my own tears being shed. That would be a lie. I swear I was bawling my eyes while watching the death scene happen (for the dozenth time, I'll be honest) and writing it out. No movie has ever pulled tears from me after I've already watched it several times, which is why I admire Zoe's acting for shattering my heart every time Neytiri screams and cries over her dead child.

But, look at that! Y/n's ikran has a name! It's Evi, derived from the Na'vi word 'evi, which is an affectionate word for 'kid'. That's something light-hearted and cute, right??? Right??? Ha ha, please don't kill me.

Anyway, I promise that this is only the beginning of the series and I hope the rest of it helps you heal from this loss like I know Y/n will likely learn to heal in time 😇 I honestly believe this will help me recover from Neteyam by writing about my characters' own healing journeys.

[zialltops]

honeysuckle’s & huckleberry’s

Cowboy!Joel (41) X F!Reader (25) | 47.3k words | wip | explicit | 18+ minors dni | enemies to lovers | slow burn | au: no cordyceps outbreak | oral (f receiving) | (semi) public sex | vaginal fingering

masterlist | ao3 | spotify playlist

You chance a glance over at the outlaw in the driver's seat while he scans his surroundings like he’s done this before, the rear view mirror and the road ahead never leaving his sight. “What if they catch up to us? I don’t want to get arrested, Joel!”

a/n: howdy folks! I’m pulling my head out of my ass and getting back into writing. These last few weeks have been leveling put for me and I’ve been feeling a lot better compared to how my life HAS been. These two were the perfect break even though this took my two whole months for only a few thousand words. I’ll be back sooner than last time with an update, but you’ll see me before then for another wip. Much love, hayhay 🤍

Chapter 8: What Was I Thinkin?

Three hours ago, if you asked Joel how the night would come to its end, he’d tell you he’d probably be in the cabin, laying in his cold bed, staring up at his ceiling fan, alone—with his right hand working his dick to the tune of the farmer’s daughter. In fact, three hours ago, he’d told Tommy something similar.

“Joel, man—I promise It looks fine.”

He adjusts the buttons on his shirt another time, stuck between leaving one undone and letting the opening linger down his chest. “Fine ain’t gonna cover it, Tom—ain’t no way in hell I’m walkin’ up to her lookin jus’ fine.” Tommy huffs from behind him and starts to go through the closet beside Joel while he stares at himself in the body length mirror behind the door.

“What about this one?” Tommy beams, He’s holding up a black shirt on a hanger, slight dust on the shoulders from it’s lack of use. He’s half surprised the moths haven’t gotten to it yet. Its buttons are made of iridescent pearls that snap in place, labyrinthian embroidery adorning the breast pockets. “Ain’t worn it since before the accident.” He lifts one of the sleeves in his hands, lingering on the fitted cuff.

His mind takes him back to half forgotten nights under neon lights, long neck bottles and ropers calluses on his rodeo-worn hands. To money wasted on buckle bunnies and broncs, to years taken off his life under the sharp hooves of a one ton animal—years he’ll never get back. Years he wishes he’d never taken for granted.

He was a more confident man then, not cocky—but proud of his abilities in the arena, proud enough to walk tall, speak surly. He was a master in his sport because he trained religiously, fully immersed in the idea that this was his only shot at making it. He still believes that, even now. He wishes you could have met him then, when he was that Joel—Rodeo buckles and spurs, cowboy hats and stadium lights. When he was a white straw hat and chaps, an unsullied grin with a thirst for adrenaline and belt buckles.

He holds the black cotton between his well worked fingers and longs to be that man again—if only for one night. Would you like him? A cowboy in his prime with worked muscles, before his beer belly and the softness in his chest really set in? “This one’s good,” he huffs, brushing the dust off the shoulders before unbuttoning it enough to remove it from the hanger. “Lemme help you.” His brother offers. Joel’s not naive, he knows the fear is visible atop the surface of his flushed skin, in the deepened frown lines and the shake in his hands.

Tommy is a lot of things, but once in a while he softens around his selfish edges and he bends a little, reaching out for the weeping limbs of his brother, struggling with all his might to keep himself standing up straight in the storm, a resilient and irrepressible figure to look up to. Tommy sees the way the longing shines through the perforations in his irises, the way his shoulders slump with oppressive burden—and he takes pity on the older man. “I’ll wash it real quick while you shower. It’ll be good as new, fresh outta the dryer by the time you're done.” He looks up at Joel, who’s still transfixed in the forgotten token of his former youth, of the man who he used to be. Items he’d left in storage down in Austin that Hank had so graciously shipped to Jackson.

He almost wishes he’d never gotten it all back, it was easier then—to hide from who he was when he wasn’t reminded of his past every single day, but once in a while—that reckless, spotlight chasing cowboy grasps for the surface. And tonight? Tonight is your birthday, the town dance, where you’re going to be, probably looking like something Joel doesn’t have a shot in hell with. It’s your damn birthday and he wants to ask you to dance but he’s not sure the fee quick dance lessons he got will suffice. What if he stumbles? Steps on your pretty little feet? Drops you?

“Joel—“ there's a snap in front of his face and he pulls himself out of the chaos inside of his mind. “Man, you are loosin’ it. I’ve never seen you this wound up over some girl—“ his eyes snap up to his brothers and he huffs lowly. “She ain’t just—some girl. She’s Hank and Lou’s daughter, people I think of as family. She’s smart and resourceful, sometimes a little reckless but she makes me feel like…like I’m alive for once.” Tommy sets the black shirt down and sit on the side of Joel's bed. Beside him, Joel's weight sinks onto the mattress. “M’gettin’ old, Tom. I don’t have a lot of good years left in me and I don’t know if I’ll ever have a opportunity like this again.”

Tommy takes a glance over at the distant look in his brothers eyes. “Opportunity?” Joel's eyes flick over and he sighs. He wishes Tommy had a little bit of what he had built inside of him, the innate goal of settling down, finding where he belongs and who he belongs with.

“At bein’ happy. Good memories for my restless nights.” If he fucked this up and missed his chance, he’s not sure he’ll have it in him again, if it will ever feel like this with anyone else. He thinks he’s done, thinks you’re it. He thinks he could give you forever if you’d let him.

“S’that why you’re so messed up in the head? What, do you think she’s going to shoot you down?” Tommy’s voice picks up in pitch, offense used like a weapon to get his point across and Joel appreciates the gusto. “Think I’m gonna go home alone tonight. Think it’s just gonna be me and the crickets and this damn hand again, dreamin’ bout how damn sweet she is.”

Tommy’s hand reaches into the breast pocket of his shirt and he retrieves a silver flask, offering it to his older brother who takes it with unsure fingers. “Just be yourself, man. Walk up to her like you belong there. Just need a little bit of confidence, don’t let her think you’re second guessing yourself. I don’t know her like you do—but I know that girl is more than willing when it comes to you.”

Joel takes a long swig of rot-gut whiskey, lets is sink into his bones and find the will to drag himself into the shower and wash away the saw dust lingering on his skin from the floor of the dance hall, ease some of the soreness in his knees and back from learning how to dance.

When he’s finished, there's a clean shirt and a flask laying on his bed. Joel finishes off the whiskey before he fastens the first button.

Liquid courage is the only thing that gets him to town.

He’s everywhere—everywhere. His hands burn on your thigh, on your hip where they dig in just a little too roughly when he pins you to the wall beside the back door. The second it closed behind you, there was a desperation clinging to the early spring air, perforating the slight chill until it shimmied beneath it and took life in the form of heat dripping across your exposed flesh. It was sticky and hot, sucking you in like a vortex straight to the center of what your world revolved around—Joel Miller and his touch that feels like fire.

He tastes like alcohol and tooth paste and part of you wonders if that’s what's changed about him, why he was so willing to let go of his reservations in-front of half of the town. He’s been drinking, drowning his insecurities enough to throw himself at you bravely.

Will he still be this Joel when you open your eyes in the morning? Will he regret it?

His teeth dig into your bottom lip and your brain goes fuzzy, stars forming behind your closed eyes. Insecurities can wait until tomorrow, you decide. His hips press forward ever so slightly and the outline of his cock can’t go unnoticed, not with the way it makes the fabric of your panties drag against your clit tantalizingly. Behind your closed eyes, the stars morph into crackles of fireworks, filling your senses with bright pleasure and desperate desire to chase those lights into the night.

You hike your legs higher, trying to drag him into the delicious delirium with you. The movement pulls a guttural groan out of the broad cowboy. “Joel—Joel,” you need his hands to leave brands on your skin where they’ve touched you, setting fire to your soul. “I know—fuck, baby, I know.” Is he crumbling like you, throwing himself into this very moment right here? Is he as desperate as you are? Does it feel like a travesty and a triumph? The yearning you’ve endured, for the victory of finally knowing what he feels like when he kisses the breath from your lungs.

It’s more than you know how to articulate—more devastating than you anticipated and yet—it’s still not enough. It won't be enough until his heart beats in time with your own and you feel him wrapped up in your body

His teeth dig into your jaw and your body reacts before you tell it to, searching for the release only he can bring you.

“Touch me, please—please, touch me.”

And suddenly, in the time it takes to flip on a light switch, he’s gluttonous, insatiable and voracious—a wild predator set loose just to turn on its careful handler. The only thing that comes to mind, in comparison, is a pack of wolves frenzied to sink their teeth into the supple flesh of their prey.

In your case—Joel is the starved pack—and you? You are but an unsuspecting doe, practically sacrificing yourself to his uncontrollable famine.

Those thick digits, adorned with callouses earned from laborious work, hastily push aside the fabric of your dress in search of your covered center. He feels so fucking good when those digits push their way past the hem of your panties and he gasps against the shell of your ear. Like it feels just as good to him, letting the pads of his index and middle finger tease the seam of your lips before slipping between and dragging those rough digits over your hardened clit. It’s all the built up want, longing, needing that makes him feel so other-worldly, you’ll never experience something like this, the rush of relief to finally be his.

His fingers dip lower, searching for the source of all this slick adorning his knuckles, when his thumb drags idly over your already sensitive clit. Its like an electric shock straight to your sternum, arching you forward in search of anchorage to this reality altering interaction. There's a hint of alcohol swimming behind your fluttering eyelids, but his shuddering groan is sickeningly sobering. You want to say something, tell him how good he makes you feel, but the words bubble up in your chest and hang in your throat in the form of a silent sob, your mouth hanging open and your toes curling against your shoes.

“There it is, huh? S’what finally gets you quiet? Just needed me to touch your pussy, didn’t you?” Where the hell has this Joel been hiding? He’s never been so vulgar, so vocal and confident in himself. His fingers tease the soft ring at your opening, smearing slick around on his fingers when he leans against your front to press his face against your heaving chest and neck. His fingers plunge in—and your body jerks against his solid form. He lets you shudder and tighten up against him while his thumb moves steadily, never coming off the peak of your nerve—locked on it with such perfected percussion that there is no jerky catch, just steady—drowning pleasure. His rough pant of breath paints your shoulder in sticky warmth and your thighs tighten around him, begging to draw him into your desperation.

“She’s just cryin’ for me, ain’t she, Honey?” His drawl sounds like sweet tea on a hot summer afternoon, like your sight set on the Austin sunset from the seat of an old saddle, driving cattle through tall grass and endless horizons.

Being touched by Joel Miller feels like coming home.

He finds a steady pace, working his fingers in and out, each drag punctuated by the ridges of his knuckles and the rough pads of his finger tips. Just faintly, you can make out the wet sound your sex makes every time he fucks his fingers into you intentionally. Its instantaneous the way heat blooms in your pelvis, knotting up in your stomach until you’re so overwhelmed, you’re trembling in his grip. “She’s so fuckin’ greedy, pretty little cunt needs to be stuffed, don’t she? G’damn, you’re quiverin’—you gonna cum f’me already?” His words are like a dirty secret, never meant to be revealed—knowing exactly what kind of storm that truth would bring. Let the rain pour down, let the thunder crack and the gusts rip the apprehension from your bones—because Joel Miller wants you and you’ve been waiting for this moment for two years.

You’ve imagined this a million times, slipped your fingers between your legs to the mere idea of this revered and dignified southern gentleman—more once you’d put a face to the elusive cowboy. No matter how deeply you lost yourself to your imagination, none of it will ever amount to the way cold brick feels against your exposed back, the way denim jeans ruffs up the insides of your smooth thighs, the way a felt Stetson bumps against your temple when his fingers curl against a spot inside of you no man has ever found, dragging the air from your lungs, robbing your vocal cords of their melody. With your eyes rolled back and your desire strung tight, you manage to string together enough sound to produce words.

“Yes-Yes, Joel—make me cum! Please!”

A third, assured finger slips in right beside the other two and slam forward, sending you spiraling down that one way path towards pure ecstasy. His fingers curl again and his thumb quickens, pushing you up and up until you’re sure you’re about to melt through his finger tips, a weeping puddle at his feet. “That’s it, pretty girl—cum on these fingers, let me feel her squeeze me.”

His command is your saving grace, the final twist that undoes the well wound rope holding you together. A variation of his name rips from your throat and consumes the space around you, invoking a bright euphoria that shrouds every nerve ending you possess. He doesn’t even know what he’s just subjected your body to—a life altering experience that you will never be able to recreate with another person. “S…s’the best orgasm I’ve ever had,” is the only thing your mind conjures up once you’ve come down enough to speak. He’s still holding onto you, slowly slipping his fingers out and letting you down with a satisfied chuckle.

“Wunna taste you,”

How will you handle another assault from that honed attention? How will you ever unsee that unruly tousle of curls between your thighs?

He doesn’t give you long enough to form a protest before he’s rushing you through the parking lot, a determination in his step that you’ve never seen. He’s surpassed the point of antsy when he yanks open the passenger door and finds leverage on your hips to hoist you up, then toss you down on the torn upholstery. You should say something—tell him to slow down before you pass out from the burn of his hands—but fuck you don’t want him to stop, consciousness be damned.

Instead, you watch him set his cowboy hat on the dusty dashboard, the silver trim of the band shimmering with luster in the golden street lamps. He drinks your body in visibly, relishing in every curve and inhale of breath. When his vision finds yours, they are nearly black with desire—his pupils having consumed every inch of bourbony brown. When his big hands find your thighs again, the resistance bleeds away and gives way to insurmountable, greedy hunger.

“C’mere, girl.” The hands on your thighs dig into the flesh, leaving finger shaped dimples in your sensitive skin. “Lemme see that fuckin’ pussy.” Jesus christ.

If your friends could see you now, they’d all laugh at how easy you are, but right now—it’s just you and your cowboy—you’ll never be anything but easy for him.

His hands move with fever, hastily pushing your dress up your hips. “I’m going to fucking ruin you, babygirl. Only word you’ll know is my name when I’m finished with you.” That same ferocious want consumes you, possessing your hands to work on their own accord, helping Joel shimmy your panties down your thighs and over your heels.

You have enough time to register the way he stuffs the black lace into the front pocket of his wranglers before that head of his is forcing its way under your dress. He spreads your legs easily, pushes and pulls with his hands until his mouth seals over your clit, drenching your nervous system in blinding heat.

He’s good, so good at this. His tongue slides through your dripping folds with a tedious, monotonous rhythm. He’s licking for a taste, for his own glutinous thirst based on the way he groans and sighs against the softness of your lips. His eyes flick up at the same time your body starts to quiver, trying to adjust to so much honed desire narrowed in on you. “J-Joel, please don’t st-top.” Your eyes start to leave his in favor of rolling back in your head when your chest arches out, searching for a breath of sobering air, for something to hold onto so you don’t crumble apart. “Feels so good—you feel so good.”

His mouth closes over you and he sucks, pulling your clit against the smoothness of his tongue as he flicks it over and over, soothing the sensitive bud, while actively robbing you of any coherent train of thought. The only sounds that leave your lungs are sharp gasps and whines, fueled by the low groaning sound he’s muffling between your thighs. He releases you and your body reels, drawing in breath after breath to catch up with your racing heart.

“Wunna split this little pussy open on me,”

Oh fuck, oh fuck fuck—fuck.

You have long enough to gaze down at him, watching as he slides the flat of his tongue through your lips, over the sensitive bud, before your head is dipping back again.

“I’ve been practicing—I got, oh, fuck Joel, like that,” you heave and he pulls away completely, shocking you into a mewling, whining mess. “You got what, baby, use your words.”

Your body bares down on nothing, /wish he would just give it up already, unbuckle that belt, push down those wranglers and fuck you like you deserve. Joel grunts while he watches, letting it rumble through his whole body. “Got a toy that’s as big as you so I could practice. So I'd be able to take you.”

His whole demeanor shifts, alternating from this brazen, confident cowboy to the man suddenly lost between your thighs, sucking and slurping, licking and moaning to himself. He’s gutless, starving and desperate, he whimpers when you squeeze your thighs and cry his name, holding on tight until the flash of blue and red and the sound of a loud voice rips him from his mission.

“Jackson Police department, step away from the vehicle!”

Joel rips himself away from your body before you even have a chance to cover yourself. “Fuck-fuck,” he looks around sharply, eying the lone officer in a tan blazer with flashing lights fastened to its hard top. The sheriff has a light in their hand, leaning over the side of the blazer. You manage to pull your dress down and scoot back, trying to hide yourself from the light shining on the two of you.

Joel's gaze falls away from the officer, parked behind the truck, blocking it in. Instead, he looks forward, into the clearing in front of the parking lot, half lit by the street lamp. His jaw clicks and he looks set on whatever is going through that big brain of his. “Put a seat belt on.”

What?

Joel grabs his hat and slides across the bench seat quickly, slamming the door behind him. He makes it across you and throws himself in front of the steering wheel, finding the ignition quickly to turn the keys in the shaft.

The chevy roars to life at the same time that he slams the gear shifter into drive and plows over the parking block. Before you have a chance to register what's happening, the blue pickup is sliding through mud and grass, leaving tire tracks in the field as he cuts through it towards the highway.

“Joel, what in the—fuck!“ you shout, reaching up for the oh-shit handle, while the other hand reaches for the solid form beside you, grasping him by the bicep as he snorts nervously. “Just—calm down for a second, we’ll lose ‘em.”

Your heart races and your nerves radiate through your entire body. You’re a good kid, you’ve never ran from the cops before, never been in trouble for crying out loud. You did your best in school, tried to make your parents proud despite your small side of rebellion. And yet, here you are—trying your best to hang on while he cuts corners and runs stop signs, old alleyways and back roads through the thickets. The truck roars past speed limit signs, loosing rodeo flyers pinned to telephone poles when he slams the gears—orange papers fluttering in the settling dust.

You chance a glance over at the outlaw in the driver's seat while he scans his surroundings like he’s done this before, the rear view mirror and the road ahead never leaving his sight. “What if they catch up to us? I don’t want to get arrested, Joel!”

He snorts, taking another random left and speeding down the street. “Ain’t gonna get arrested, honey. Just trust me.”

Trust him? How could he even ask you that, like that wasn’t what this was all along. You trusted him like you trusted the sun to set and rise again, like you trusted the birds to sing and the rivers to run—you’d trusted Joel with your family’s dream and he never let you down.

Somewhere along the way, you lose the ability to fight off your grin, Joel manages to leave flashing red and blue in a cloud of dust. He cuts through a group of trees leading into a clearing and shuts off the lights. He drives by moonlight, effectively covering his tracks and making his way onto another road, leading up the mountain towards the ranch. He pulls off another dirt road that is cut out along the side of the hill, but he isn’t in as much of a hurry as he was before. He takes a last left, bringing the truck to the edge of the hillside that overlooks the entire town of jackson—from the dance hall—to the bar—to the red and blue set of lights on the south side of town, still looking for you and your cowboy.

The world grants you a few silent moments to catch your breath, before it completely robs you of tingling in your muscles, the conscious connection between the two of you. The reality of being truly alone with him is sobering, with nothing but the trees and the wildlife to offer a distraction.

Now that the air has cooled and your heart has finished pounding in your ears, you can make out the faint hum of the stereo, the FM dial lit up by the soft glow behind it. The station is still the same as it was when you were a girl, riding in your daddy’s pickup, playing old country music like it did in the days of your youth.

Now, it rings in your ears with the nerves seeping into your bones, settling into an uncomfortable dust. Right now, of all times? Anxiety has to claw up your chest and wrap around your throat while his saliva is still drying on the inside of your thighs?

Fuck, his beard is still glistening in the green-glow of the stereo.

“You’re starin’ at me.” He says almost quietly. You expected him to tease and flirt, maybe boast, but his voice waivers halfway through and you start to pick up on his slight nerve. Under all that charm and intensity is starting to give way to a much more vulnerable Joel—a man you know all too well.

“You’re just, uh—“ you swallow thickly and try to find the courage to meet his deep brown eyes. “Your beard is…wet.” When you do find his irises, his mouth picks up in a half smirk. If he’s as scared as you are right now, he’s doing a good job of hiding it. He’s giving it everything he’s got to hide it from you.

It’s been so long and you need this. Need to be touched, appreciated, worshipped.

The look in his eyes tells you that he’s eager to kneel.

“And who’s fault is that, hmm?” That sweet, sultry accent drags you in, sliding closer on the seat until you're nearly tucked into his side, leaned back against the seat while he looms over you. He’s still nervous, you can see it floating around in his dark eyes, but his jaw clicks like he’s trying to rein something in.

Silence falls upon you once more, but unbeknownst to the cicadas and the crickets, your dancing gazes say everything you need to hear. His eyes drop to your lips and yours to his. His tongue peaks out unconsciously, wetting his bottom lip ever so slightly—like he’s tasting you there.

His mouth clicks shut and it's then that you glance up. His eyes are back on yours, suddenly so much softer with a lulled arch to his eyebrows. In the depths of his eyes you find renewed hunger, fire burning in those pools of smooth chocolate. Your body relaxes, succumbs to the form of his plains of muscles adorning his body. When you tilt your head up to him in offering, you sink so deeply into those dark pools you can nearly taste the sweetness of him like velvety candy melting against your taste buds.

“Joel—“ you choke out, deciding then that if he waits a second longer you’ll suffocate.

There's things about this life that can never be stopped, inexorable phenomenons that are unavoidable. The seasons will always change. The storms will always come, lightning will always strike. The days will always end and the sun will rise again on the next.

And Joel Miller will always, always break when you say his name like that.

He falls into you with a sharp intake of breath, crashing his mouth against yours with surprising accuracy. It’s so easy to let him take over with the perfect combination of rush and savor he puts into the way he envelops you. His mouth is soft, but persistent, wrapping around your bottom lip when he sucks it between his teeth for a soft bite that makes you want to live in this moment forever.

You nearly do because you get absolutely lost in kissing him, you don’t protest when he leans you back on the bench seat, you don’t put up any sort of fight when he spreads your thighs with his wide hips. When his hands grip your knees, you know you’re completely done for.

He pulls away from your mouth and his eyes find yours in the low green glow and there, you find everything you’ve ever longed for.

“I…I think,” Joel shifts, looking down at his hands like he’s just woken up from sleep walking straight into your heart and soul. “I think I should get you home, s’gettin late.”

Late? Your poor muddled brain cannot keep up with how quickly he fades in and out of doing anything to have you, to be terrified to touch you. How quickly he slips into a starved desire to shaking in his boots.

Not for the first time, you wish you could reach right into his brain and pull out whatever it is that makes him think you don’t want those rough hands all over your bare body. He’s already had a taste of you, already kissed you—what more could be standing in his way?

“Home? Joel, we were just getting started—“ he clears his throat and sits up, trying to slide away from you but your heels dig into his tailbone and drag him back. “Started down a road we both know only leads to nothing but trouble and regret.”

What, the, fuck?

“I’m—you think this is a bad idea?”

The uncomfortable air settles back in between you and your legs around him loosen. “Think you're going to realize really quickly this ain’t what you want and this—I’ve got…too much on the line.”

He has too much on the line? What about the ranch? Your childhood home about to be lost to the bank? What about the dance hall where he’s built a new floor to make you smile? Does it all wash away with his assumed doom?

“What are you saying? This…this was a mistake? Joel I still have your fucking spit drying on my pussy and you—you regretted it already?” The realization feels like a dull blade straight to your gut, forcing it way in and twisting you from the inside out. It burns with shame and agony and you pull yourself out from under his sturdy build.

“I didn’t mean—I regret anything, fuck knows I don’t—“ no, no. You’ve given this man so much of yourself, committed so much to be thrown around and have your feelings stomped on.

“Then what the fuck does it mean, Joel! You—you made me cum while telling me you wanted to stuff my cunt but now you think this is…” you have a realization then, that maybe—just maybe, he does actually regret it. What does he think, you’d turn around and throw him out on his ass? If he truly thinks that low of you then maybe…

“This was a big fucking mistake.” You say coldly, making up your mind as you right your bunched up dress and adjust your fixed gaze on the passenger side window.

“Take me home.” It’s not a request.

It’s not an invitation, either, Joel understands as he watches you close the front door behind you later that night, settling his made up mind.

He presses his palm to his crotch twice and comes in his pants right there in the driveway, just like he knew he was going to.

And he feels like a fucking fool.

[yusalterego]

Revenge; Song Mingi

pairing: song mingi x fem!reader (ft. ex!yunho)

genre: smut

word count: 4.257

warnings: sir!kink, dom!mingi, mentions of cheating and infedelity, oral sex (f and m receiving), unprotected sex, humiliation, degradation, forced voyeurism, crying, violence, choking (not sexually), slapping, i think it's all here but if i forgot something lemme know! ;)

enjoyyy!!!

you should have expected it, really.

you knew your boyfriend had been getting into sketchy business.

coming home late at night with bruises all over his body.

hiding a gun inside his closet.

convincing you to stay inside with him instead of going out with your friends at night.

it was clear that there was something threatening going after him, that he was getting more in trouble as days were passing.

but he never told you anything about his work, so the only option you had was to lay awake at night and pray that he'd come back home in one piece.

that's what you were doing mere seconds ago, huddled up in a blanket with a small pair of shorts on and one of his white tank tops, staring at your phone and waiting for a message that wasn't ever going to come, until you heard the door creak.

it was a small sound, the smallet ever, but enough to alert you and make you rise your head in the process of turning around.

"yunho?"

the sight you are met with makes you shiver.

a broad man dressed in all black is looking at you through piercing eyes.

you whimper in fear, feeling the panic overtake you as you scramble to get to the farest edge of the bed from him, covering your skimpily covered body with your blanket.

"i'm afraid your boyfriend might not be coming home tonight, little one." His voice is husky as he speaks these words.

"who are you? what did you do to him?" you speak with a voice full of panic, a weight in your throat stopping you from screaming out loud.

he smirks as he takes something from his backpocket, starting to close in on your trembling body.

"oh, you'll see."

as he pronounces these words, he gets ahold on your small body and forces a cloth over your mouth and nose, making you unable to breath.

you try to fight him off you but it's no use given his strong form and all you can do is look at him with hazy eyes as your consciousness starts slipping.

"sleep tight princess, you'll need it." are the last words you hear before your vision goes black.

—————————————————

"please, please, she hasn't done anything wrong. just leave her alone."

the words and the sobs leaving your boyfriends mouth are the first sounds your hear as you start waking up, blinking your eyes blearily at the bright light hitting your pupils.

"you think i give a shit about what you have to say yunho?"

as you are finally able to focus your sight on the figures before you, your eyes meet tired ones, swollen and full of tears.

"yuyu.." you whimper out, feeling a sinking feeling in your gut as you take in his bruised body, cuts filling his face and every visible part of him.

"look who's woken up! slept tight princess?" the man standing between you and your lover aknowledges you with a sadic smile and a crazed look in his eyes.

you shiver as your eyes meet his dark ones. you take in all of his face, noticing his sharp jaw and his dark hair framing his foreahead.

"who are you? what did you do to him?" you croak out, tears treathening to spill from your eyes as you notice how both you and yunho are restrained to your seats. the room you are in is wide, with a large bed positioned against the wall on your right.

"you want to know what i did to your little boyfriend? Why don't you ask what he did to me first?"

he laughs sadistically, taking a handful of yunho's hair in his hand and making his head lean back.

the pained whimper that comes out of your boyfriend's mouth makes you feel like dying.

"why don't you tell her? uh?"

yunho says nothing as he closes his eyes, feeling the pain rise as the other hand of the man goes to his troath.

"c'mon sweet yunhie, tell her what you did?"

as no words leave your boyfriends constricted troath, you start to struggle against your restraints, seeing as his face keeps on becoming redder from the lack of oxygen.

"please, let him go."

you sob out, but the man isn't listening to you. His full attention is on yunho.

"you don't wanna tell her? then I will. but first..i wanna do something."

he suddenly lets go and yunho gasps in as he almost chokes on the air he is finally able to breath.

"want to give you a taste of your own medicine, uh?"

you watch with blurry and confused eyes as yunho goes pale in the face.

"please mingi, don't.."

"shut up" mingi slaps him straight across the face, making his head turn as you gasp out, not being able to do anything but watch the scene unravel.

"you keep your little ratty mouth shut and make me do as i please, understood? or i'll put a fucking bullet in your head." you're suddenly very much aware of the gun laid down on one of the bedside tables.

yunho closes his mouth, throwing you a pained look full of desperation, which makes you quiver.

mingi stands to his full height and turns to you, immediately walking in your direction.

you close your eyes anticipating something scary and holding in a whimper, until you feel soft and fast fingers working at your restraints and freeing your limbs.

you open your eyes looking around with a lost expression, until you're faced with his form standing right in front of you.

he holds a hand out, and you look at him as if he was an alien.

"can you stand up on your own?" He asks in a soft voice still holding out his hand for you to take.

you hesitantly put your much smaller hand in his, and stand up on wobbly legs, feeling your ankles hurting from the tight restraint they had been subjected to.

he guides you to sit down on the bed on the far right of the room.

"your boyfriend is such a dumbass, isn'he?"

he lets go of your hand in favour of holding your face, stroking your cheek gently as he looks at you with a soft look.

you stare at him almost hypnotized by his eyes, unable to understand what he means with his words.

he turns back around to look at your boyfriend, moving your face side to side with a gentle movement.

"look at her, yunhie. such a doll. you'd have to be out of your fucking mind to cheat on such an angel, uh?"

your eyebrows furrow in confusion, eyes going from staring at him, to looking at yunho now, who is looking away ashamedly.

"yuyu?" you whimper out, feeling more lost than ever. "Is that true?"

you let the hand on your face fall down as you stand up on trembling legs. mingi notices and immediately holds you up by your arm, making you regain stability.

your boyfriend is looking down at the floor, not daring to say a word.

"all those sleepless night..oh my god." your hand flies over your mouth as you try to avoid sobbing out loud.

your tears are starting to fall and you just can't seem to hold them back.

"for how long?" you croak out, watching as his face turns into a grimace. it seems like there's no point in lying and trying to make you believe that what the man standing beside you said is not true.

you start getting impatient as he keeps his mouth shut.

"FOR HOW LONG?" you scream out, tears rushing down your face. you don't notice the soothing movement of a thumb against your upper arm.

"almost a year." he whispers out, finally looking up at you with teary eyes.

"oh my god." you move trying to make your way towards him out of sheer anger but the hand on your arm holds you back, not making you go anywhere as strong arms engulf you in a warm hug.

"shh, it's okay." mingi soothes you as you sob, caressing your hair. you can't do anything but lay your entire weight on his strong chest, crying out without control as you feel your heart break more with every moment that goes by.

his caresses work the trick as you start calming down, and you move your head from his shoulder, looking straight in the eyes of your now ex lover.

he is looking at the two of you with a sadness mixed with anger, guilt eating up at his mind and consuming his thoughts entirely.

"sweet little girl, what do you say? shall we give him a little show?" you hear mingi whisper in your ear softly, with such a smooth voice that makes your ears tingle.

you look up at him with big eyes, a lost expression engulfing your features.

"don't you wanna show him what he lost by being unloyal? don't you think he deserves it?"

your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you can hear your heart beating inside your ears, your blood flowing in all the wrong places.

"what...what do you get out of this?"

he moves his hand from around you and places it gently on your face, his thumb catching on your lip and pulling it back, making a blush spread across your cheeks.

"my own revenge...and a good fuck with the prettiest angel i've ever seen."

as you hear the words leave his mouth your stomach starts doing flips inside your body, your blush spreading up to your ears as you stare at him in a stunned silence.

you don't question the reason behind his wish for revenge. you just stare at him with doe eyes that make him think of way too inappropriate things, but he is willing to be patient and take his time with you, for the sake of making sure he has your consent.

you look back at yunho who's looking at the two of you with a lost expression, not having heard the words that you and mingi just exchanged.

as you stare at his face, you think of all the times you lied awake, all the times you patched his bruises up, all the times he lied straight to your face.

you turn back to face mingi, and stand up on your tippy toes to reach his face, catching him by surprise as his lips touch yours in a heated kiss.

your hands wander over the expanse of his broad back as his find their place on your waist, holding you tight against him. you feel the print of his hardening bulge against your thigh, and have to hold back a moan.

you don't even realize how all your thoughts are completely clouded by him until yunho's voice interrupts your train of thought.

"please, baby..don't.."

mingi detaches his lips from yours, turning to face yunho with a smirk.

"should have thought about it before cheating on her with my girl, yunho. now shut the fuck up and behave, with every sound i hear from you i'm going to fuck her twice as harder. understood?"

yunho nods with misty and pained eyes and a trembling lip, feeling the bile in his throath rising as he witnesses Mingi pushing you back against the bed and taking his shirt off.

you stare up at him as your eyes trace every little line of muscles on his chest. he gives you a small smile, watching your big eyes eat his figure whole.

"like what you see?"

he asks, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

you nod shily, feeling your cheeks burn from getting caught staring.

"so cute..isn't she such a cute one yunho?"

you hear a muffled whimper coming out of your boyfriend's (now ex) mouth.

"mh? what was that?" mingi asks cockily.

he then lowers his voice and sends you a dark look.

"let me see those pretty tits doll."

you scramble with nervous fingers to take off yunho's tank top from you body, nipples immediately hardening in anticipation.

"fuck, baby. you look so perfect."

he leans down, letting his mouth wander all over your neck until he reaches one of your tits and immediately starts biting on it.

as he lowers his body between your legs, you get a clear view of yunho's face, looking straight at him as you moan out in pleasure.

you bite your lip and lean your head back, opening your legs even more as mingi bites and sucks on your nipple, making sure to mark you without asking for permission.

"oh god...fuck.." you let out a slew of incoherent curses as his mouth leaves your nipple in favor of biting down your stomach.

"that's not my name, baby. call me sir, understood?"

you don't answer, too lost in the feeling of two of his fingers pinching your nipple and his tongue licking at your belly.

he abruptly detaches from your body, slapping your tit in a reprimanding manner.

"i asked you a question, slut."

you whine out, at the loss of stimulation and at the sting on your skin.

"yes, i understood." you answer in a whiney voice, forgetting all about the man that cheated on you being right in the same room as you, your focus only on the dark eyes cutting right through you.

"yes who?" he asks with a low growl, suddenly gripping your chin harshly.

your eyes get misty with tears as the pain shoots through your jaw and goes straight to your pulsing cunt.

"yes sir."

he smiles again, lowering his head to give you a sweet kiss on the lips.

"such a good girl, why don't you take off your shorts for me, mh?"

you immediately raise your hips from the bed under you, scrambling to get the shorts off your legs and throwing them carelessly to the ground, forgetting about an important detail.

"oh fuck" mingi grumbles in a low voice as he stares at your naked pussy glistening with your juices.

he moves a bit to the right, gripping one of your thighs to make sure your legs are wide open for him and the man behind him to see.

"you see this, yunho? she was waiting for you in skimpy shorts and no fucking panties on, and your fucking dumbass had the courage to cheat on her for months. such a fucking perfect pussy, uh? shame you won't ever get to taste it anymore. s'mine now."

you feel your pussy throb at his words, satisfaction clouding your mind as you watch as yunho's eyes start watering, his face falling more with every second that goes by.

mingi decides he has had enough of waiting, and finally lowers himself on his knees at the edge of the bed, looking up at you with gentle eyes.

"you still okay with this?" he asks, wanting to make sure you're comfortable with what the two of you are doing.

"yes sir" you mumble out as you look at him with widened doe eyes, your impatience taking over as you feel his breath getting closer to where you need him the most.

"please.." you whine, feeling his lips press softly against your inner thighs.

"please what, sweet girl?" he asks in a sugar coated tone, licking a stripe from your knee to the juncture that connects your thigh with your core.

"please...eat me out, sir." you moan out as embarassment floods your cheeks. No one has ever asked you to beg for things but you'd have never expected to like it so much.

"since you asked so nicely." he says, before diving in straight for your clit. he suckles on it and swirls his tongue in a back and forth motion, making you see stars immediately.

"oh fuck..sir...feels too good."

you don't notice the tears running down your ex boyfriend's face copiously, his lip red and bitten from trying to keep silent, his cock ashamedly hard under his pants.

you're too concentrated on the tongue working magic on your spasming pussy, grasping mingi's hair in your hand tightly as you almost lose control over your senses.

he fits one finger inside your pussy, the combination of the two different stimulations making your legs tremble in delight as he builds up your orgasm so fast and wrecks your mind at the same time.

you're a babbling mess, spitting nonsense and unintelligeble praises to the man between your legs, begging for permission to come.

"please, sir. i'm so close." you cry out, louder than you've ever been, and watch as he opens his dark eyes to look straight inside your soul from his position between your legs.

he detaches from your clit for a few seconds as he adds another finger inside your hole, making your whole body shake from the constant hits at your g-spot.

"go ahead doll, let me see how pretty you look as you come for me."

he attaches himself to your clit once again, and a few gentle sucks paired with his swift fingers working wonders inside you are all it takes to make you let go and orgasm on his digits, your pussy spasming hard around them and gushing all over his face.

you gasp in a mouthful of oxygen as you feel your senses come back to you. looking down you notice the drops of your pleasure coating mingi's face and immediately go pale out of sheer embarassment.

"never happened before?"

you shake your head no, still feeling mortified at the thought of having squirted on a strangers face, but he doesn't seem to mind it all.

"tch, couldn't even fucking make her squirt. I guess i might need to give you some lessons, yunhie." he turns his head to smile sadistically at the restrained men, noticing the stream of wetness under his eyes which only makes him smile wider.

"sir.." you ask in a small and timid voice.

"yes pretty girl?" he asks, caressing your tummy, noticing your rushed breathing.

"wanna suck you off. can I? please."

he smiles, cocking an eyebrow at your pliant behaviour. "Of course, you're being so good for me baby."

your fingers immediately start working his pants down his legs, a gasp leaving your open mouth as the print of his hard cock stands right in front of you face, tip oozing out precum and staining the grey fabric of his underwear.

your mouth waters as you pull start pulling his briefs down, only for mingi to stop you.

"lick it through my boxers baby."

you do as he says, wetting the fabric and making it become transparent around his length, your mouth trying to engulf and suck on it even through the cotton.

"look at this." he says to yunho, gesturing towards your head basically nuzzled on his pelvis.

"so hungry for cock. what is it baby? was yunhie not giving you enough of it?"

you whine out, nodding as you try your best to stimulate him even with the fabric being in the way.

"then I guess I'll have to come to the rescue, uh?"

he suddenly moves your head away from his cock, freeing it from its confines with one hand as the other gets ahold of the base.

he slaps it against your cheek a few times, smearing his precum everywhere, before taking ahold of your shoulder and moving you to the side, making your profile visible to yunho.

"c'mon, show him how hungry you are for my cock. give him something to cry for."

you immediately latch your lips on his tip, sucking gently and moving your tongue side to side on his slit.

you start bobbing your head up and down on it, trying to fit what you can inside your mouth as you work the rest with your hands.

you feel his fingers tangling inside your hair, gently guiding you into a steady rhythm, while his other hand is caressing your jaw, uncaring of the saliva dripping down it and towards your neck.

"fuck, not even whores suck cocks this good. you're fucking amazing."

you moan out at the praise, the sound muffled by the heaviness of his length on your tongue.

a whimper leaves yunho's mouth at the sight of you being so pliant for another man, but deep down he knows that he deserves it. he was the first one to make a mistake.

your pussy is sopping wet by the time mingi starts losing control over his body and starts thrusting is cock a bit deeper than before.

you hold back a gag, trying not to choke on his cock as it forces itself against the back of your throath with a precise pace.

"fuck, baby. gotta stop before I cum."

he forces himself out of your mouth, even though his senses are screaming at him to be selfish and chase his own pleasure.

he helps you up, settling you on the bed once again, taking note of your slightly swollen and bruised knees.

"how do you want it, doll?" he asks, taking ahold of his cock and stroking it lazily.

you look up at him with a dazed look in your eyes, your face wet with saliva and precum. You clear you troath and swallow before saying "sit down on the bed, please."

he cocks an eyebrow before smiling coily, but nonetheless sits down next to you, scooting towards the point that your patting with your hand

you stand up and turn around, facing yunho's shaking and sobbing form.

you look straight into his eyes as you sit down on mingi's lap, his chest glued to your back, your hands on his thighs as you move to make space for his cock between your legs.

he immediately understands what you're doing and takes ahold of it, positioning the tip right under your entrance.

"this is what you get for cheating on me." you say, before sinking down on mingi's length, feeling every ridge and vein of his cock press against your warm walls.

mingi hisses in pleasure, getting ahold of your hips as you start bouncing slowly on his dick, using his strong thighs as leverage.

"fucking perfect, aren't you? So warm and soft around me doll."

you moan out, head thrown back against his shoulders as you feel his tip hit deep inside you on the spot that makes you see stars.

you pick up your pace, his low grunts motivating you to go faster.

yunho watches with lost eyes that keep filling with tears, and thinks that if he had the power to, he would probably pull his hair out from the frustration.

mingi peppers kisses all over your neck as one of his hands makes his way to your clit, playing with it at a fast pace as you start moaning louder and clenching down on him.

"fuck, you're squeezing me so tight, slut."

you whine out at the degrading name, feeling your orgasm approaching faster that normal.

"sir..I'm so close."

"yeah? close to cumming just because I called you a slut? i suppose you really are one then, uh?"

you whine out even louder that before, feeling tears sting at your eyes from the overbearing pleasure rushing through your body.

"well, good sluts, get a reward, don't they yunho?"

he moves his hand from your clit in favor of taking ahold of the back of your thighs, suddenly raising them in the air, basically folding you in a half, your pussy on display for yunho to see as mingi's cock starts ramming in and out of it.

he uses your spread thighs in the air to hold you in place as he fucks into you with such a vigour it makes you see stars behind your eyelids, your mind melted into a puddle, not able to form a coherent thought.

"touch yourself." he groans out, and you follow his command by mere istinct, rolling your clit between your fingers and moving it fast to match his pace.

as his strokes keep getting rougher you feel the build in your core becoming unbereable to hold in.

"sir, m'gonna cu-cum" You whine out in a desperate and high pitched voice.

"go ahead sweet girl, cum all over my cock."

you immediately feel the knot explode inside your lower belly, a gush of liquid coming out of your pussy and landing on mingi's thighs and on the floor in front of you as you moan out loud a slew of curses and words, completely delirious from the pleasure.

mingi groans as he feels you tightening and spasming around him, ramming into you in sloppy movements as he also reaches his peak, shooting his warm load deep inside your pussy.

you both moan out as the last bits of your pleasures consume you whole. Your body slumps against his strong chest as he struggles to regain his breathing, letting go of your thighs and putting his hands on your waist.

the cries and whimpers coming from yunho are what wakes you up from the dazed state clouding your mind. You open your eyes and watch as his chest stumbles with heavy sobs. "please, please, no more, I'm sorry, please."

"oh god."

mingi groans out loud next to your ear.

"as he always been such a whiney little bitch?"

you chuckle lightly at his annoyed voice, but decide not to answer, too tired to process a response.

he kisses you sweetly on the cheek, caressing your sides with his fingers before whispering lowly inside your ear. "wanna make him suffer a little longer?"

thx for reading!!

[roostersmustache]

Songs of Silence, Two

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Author's Note: Here's part two! Finally! Lemme know what you think!

Synopsis: Ingrid finally starts to accept that she doesn't want to marry Thor, and the thought process nearly drives her mad. Its even worse because she can't communicate with him, and whoever took her voice from her is still out there.

or:

Ingrid still can't speak but Loki sure can get into her head.

Warnings: None of this is accurate, Swearing, adult themes, angst, possible MCU spoilers, possible Loki spoilers.

Word Count: 4.8k

Masterlist

SOS Masterlist

Ingrid had been on edge all day long. 

She had plans to accompany Thor to his mandatory training today, and normally, she enjoyed watching the prince’s spar with each other. But today, the air between her, Thor, and Loki was thick. Ingrid had no desire to look at Thor after he had thrown insults her way the day prior, and she couldn’t look at Loki because her face would get hot. 

But that didn’t stop him from being inside of her head. 

The prince had successfully, for the second day in a row, weaseled his way into Ingrid’s mind. Sometimes she didn’t know he was there until she started thinking about the conversation they had had in their minds yesterday, and he’d pop back in to add some of his own commentary. It was driving her insane, and of course he knew that, but no matter how many times she telepathically told him to stop, he’d just throw a wink at her. 

When Thor came to collect her, he knocked on her door. She opened it, revealing Thor in the front, and Loki behind him. Her eyes quickly met Thor’s and then darted over to Loki, who on eye contact, gave her a smile that had her shuffling nervously where she was standing. She had decided at the last minute that going to the training would be too much with Loki there, so she hadn’t put her dressing gown on. She needed a break from his voice in her head. 

“Darling,” Thor started, quizzically looking at her state of dress. “Why are you not dressed?” 

She huffed, not knowing how to reply without her voice, and just shook her head at her fiance. 

“What do you mean, dear?” Thor asked. “I don’t understand.” 

God she wished Thor was the one that could communicate telepathically with her, and not his cunning, sexy, and up-to-no-good brother. She just sighed at the prince and shook her head again. 

Thor looked back to Loki, who had leaned up against the wall, looking at something other than the couple trying to communicate. Thor tapped his brother's arm, and Loki coolly averted his gaze back to Thor, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“You’re good at magic, brother, have you any idea what my bride seems to be trying to say?” 

Ingrid’s eyes went wide, and she desperately wished she could tell Thor she didn’t need Loki’s help talking to him, but she couldn’t. She turned her gaze to Loki and narrowed her eyes at him. A warning. 

“Just tell him I don’t want to go,”  She said to him. 

Loki smirked back at her, turning now to face her. She felt small under his sharp gaze, and she wished for nothing more than to just close her door and curl up under her sheets. 

“But why don’t you want to go?”  He asked, a teasing lilt to his voice. 

“I don’t feel well,”  She said back, her glare deepening. 

She hoped he couldn’t see any of the images playing inside of her mind, the image of him kissing her forehead the night before had been a constant reply in her mind. Shamefully she was disappointed he hadn’t actually kissed her. When she thought about that upon waking up this morning she had slapped her wrist. Crushing on Loki was one thing but cheating on Thor with his mischievous brother would be seen as an act of treason. 

“That it would,” he said, confirming that he had just heard that entire thought she had. “But wouldn’t it be such fun to sneak around?” 

“Loki,” She warned, he gave her a smooth smile. “Just tell Thor I’m not going.” 

“But that would be entertaining, darling,” he drawled. “Reading your every thought while sparring against my brother. Him completely oblivious to the fact that his bride wants me instead.”

She let out a puff of air at his words, heat rising to her cheeks. She couldn’t deny it, and she didn’t want to deny it either. But Ingrid was scared. She had been by Thor’s side her entire life, and while she had always had a stronger draw to Loki, Thor was safe. Loki was off limits. Yet that seemed to excite her more. She couldn’t deny that the prince elicited a fire within her she had never felt before, and the pure fact that he felt the same way as she did only ignited the flame. 

She heard him laugh in her head. 

“Get out of my head, Loki,” she said, having a hard time forming the words in her brain with her muddled thoughts. “And just tell him I don’t want to go.” 

“You’re no fun,” he teased. 

Ingrid watched with battered breaths as Loki turned to his brother who had been suspiciously eyeing them both during their telepathic conversation. Ingrid knew Loki wouldn’t reveal the true nature of their conversation, but she also knew that he was the God of Mischief. She just hoped he’d tell the truth rather than twist it. 

“She doesn’t wish to go, brother,” Loki said, leaning back up against the wall and giving Thor a feigned sad glace. 

“What?” Thor asked, giving Ingrid a confused look. “Darling, the people are expecting you to make an appearance there today.”

“She doesn’t feel well,” Loki confirmed, his gaze back on nothing. 

“Are you alright?” Thor asked, his confusion melting into concern. “Do I need to send a healer?” 

She shook her head at him and crossed her arms over her chest. She was happy to see him believe her, and she was surprised Loki had told the truth and not caused anything further. For that she was grateful. 

“I could stay and keep an eye on her, brother. I have a vast knowledge of medicine, she’d be in good hands.” 

Or not. 

“No,” Ingrid said to him. 

“But the people probably want to see both of  their princes, I think we should just send a healer.”

“I’m the only one who can communicate with her, and besides, they don’t care to see me. This training is for the people to see how well their king performs on the battlefield, as if they don’t already know,” Loki said, lightly bumping his brother's arm. 

“He’s right,” Thor said, looking at Ingrid. Her eyes pleaded with him. “I want to make sure you’re alright, and despite his title, I trust my brother with you. It would bring me much comfort to have him here with you.”

Ingrid just sighed in response, her shoulders deflating. Loki was stressing her out, and the last thing she needed was to be alone with him for god knows how long. Their training usually lasted a couple of hours, so she was nervous about being in such close proximity with the god for a while. She couldn’t stop the part of her that was excited, though, because that part of her was very much there. She was scared to give into him, but god did she want to. She had spent years dreaming about those lips of his and what they felt like, the way his Asgardian leather hugged his form, and the smooth silk of his voice in her ear. 

“Don’t worry, princess,” Loki started, waltzing past her and into her bedroom. “You're in good hands.” 

“Come get me if she gets worse,” Thor said to Loki. Before he headed out, he leaned down and cupped Ingrid’s cheeks, looking into her eyes. “We’ll get your voice back, my love. In the meantime, feel better and don’t hesitate to hit my brother if he bothers you.” 

Thor said goodbye to her by reaching down and kissing her firmly on her lips. He squeezed her hand and nodded at Loki as he left, leaving Ingrid standing in her doorway, frozen in her spot. She was tempted to turn around and go into her room with the door wide open, but she couldn’t stand to leave her door open. She didn’t like everyone looking into her room when they passed by. 

Quietly, she turned and walked back into her bedroom, softly closing the door behind her. She noticed Loki lounging on her bed out of her peripheral and she internally debated on where to place herself. She still wanted to curl up into her sheets, but with Loki on her bed, that option was out the window. But she also didn’t know where else to sit. She settled on standing in the corner, facing him, with her arms tightly folded in front of her. 

“You look upset,” Loki said, breaking the silence between the two. 

Ingrid cast him a glare, trying her best to seem irritated by his presence. But she couldn’t be irritated. She was really fighting with herself on what to do. A very large part of her wanted to crawl over to him and pounce on him. But she couldn’t do that, so she decided to stay firmly in the corner. 

“Why did you insist on being here?” She asked him.

“Because I like to watch you squirm, baby. It’s thrilling,” he shrugged, his eyes gleaming with trouble. 

His words sent a chill straight down her spine, and she had to shift in her spot to hold her composure. Baby was a pet name she adored. Thor never called her that. But there are lots of things that Ingrid has no experience in. Being called ‘baby' was one of those things. She had never been with anyone outside of Thor, but the stories she overheard from the palace were stories that made her face heat up. She wanted that excitement, and Thor couldn’t give her that. 

Growing up, people had kept a watchful eye on Ingrid. She was beautiful, astoundingly so, but everyone knew she was to marry Thor. She was never allowed to flirt with anyone else, or get involved with anyone else, and that was made evidently clear anytime Odin caught her looking at someone else for too long. But Thor was able to get with anyone in the nine realms that he wanted to get with. She would often go to fetch her prince only to be met with unpleasant noises emerging from his bedroom, evident that another woman was there.  

Once the two of them became old enough to start taking their betrothal seriously, Thor stopped seeing random women. Instead, he focused all of his attention onto Ingrid, and he ended up falling in love with her. Ingrid had never fallen in love with Thor. He just wasn’t a match for her. But she tried so hard to fall for him. She would kiss him, she would cuddle with him, she would have sex with him, yet none of those things quenched the desire in her heart. And now, with their wedding fresh on the horizon, it all seemed to hit her at once that she couldn’t marry Thor. She just didn’t know how to get out of that situation. 

“What thoughts you have in that mind of yours, darling,” Loki said, standing from her bed and walking towards her.  “You should just tell my brother he’s not what a beautiful lady such as yourself needs. You need someone that excites you, someone that keeps you on your toes. Isn’t that right?” 

Loki was now standing directly in front of her, and her breathing had become shallow. She struggled to maintain eye contact with him, and this alone had the god smirking above her, a hand coming down to rest on her waist and tug her to him. She gasped. 

“I asked you a question, Ingrid,” Loki drawled, his hand that wasn’t on her hip coming up to trace over her cheek. 

“What are you doing?” She asked. She felt completely breathless. 

“I’m asking you a question,” he replied, seeming unfazed by their position. 

“This is wrong,” she panicked, her head whipping around to make sure no one could see them, even though her door was completely shut. 

She felt Loki pinch her chin, tugging her to look at him again. 

“But it's what we both want,” he said, dragging his thumb over her lip. He could feel the air leave her lungs. “A princess as pretty as you deserves to get what she wants.” 

Ingrid could’ve melted at his words, and if it wasn’t for his hand tightly around her waist, she thinks she would have. She shouldn't let herself get lost in his ways so easily, but she couldn't help it. Not when his eyes were glimmering down at her and his hands were tightly clasped around her.

"Am I wrong?" He asked, letting her go, watching her stumble to catch her balance. "Do you not want this?" He smirked at her, awaiting for her confirmation.

Ingrid's eyes pleaded with him, the loss of his touch affecting her more than it should. Being held by him had been a sensation she hadn't known she'd needed, but here, now, without his touch she felt a longing she had never felt before.

She sauntered back up to him, his hands clasped behind his back, and she gently placed her hands on his shoulders. She was nervous, the God intimidated her. And she knew what he was capable of, she knew he loved a power trip. She'd heard of his reputation plenty of times before from palace staff. She knew he was good in bed.

She lightly shook his shoulders, tenderly sliding her hands down his arms. Her breath caught when he removed his hands from behind his back and moved them to her arms, pushing her backwards. The two held eye contact with each other as he walked her backwards, a gasp emitting from her when her back met the wall. He slid her arms up above her head, holding her there while he leaned into her.

"You're sure you don't want this, love?" He asked, his breath fanning her lips.

"I'm scared," she said, her mind racing.

"Of what?" He asked. "Of Thor being upset? He doesn't satisfy you, darling. He can have any maiden in the nine realms. Sure, he might be heartbroken, but he'll be alright."

"But what if we get executed?"

"We won't, Ingrid," he soothed. "We keep it secret for a bit, then we go to Thor, and then Thor goes to Odin. Thor is the key to getting you out of marriage."

"He would never agree to that," Ingrid said, her eyes sorrowful.

Loki sighed in frustration. "I want you, Ingrid. I want to give you the things that you deserve. The things you crave. My brother cannot give you that. Even if a secret, will you please allow me that?"

Ingrid huffed out a cry at his admission. She wanted him too. But Thor would be so angry if he found out, and Odin would probably have her and Loki executed. But Loki was the God of Mischief. If anyone could lie and keep a secret, it would be him.

"Okay," she said.

At her approval, Loki sealed their lips together. Their first kiss was soft and short, a test of the waters. Loki pulled back and eyed her, asking for permission to keep going. He let her arms go, and they quickly found their way into his hair, nodding at him as she pulled him closer. His hands found her waist again, and he pulled her taught against him.

Their lips danced together; a hungry, sinful, passionate dance. Teeth clashed together, lips were wet with hunger, and they moaned into each others mouths as they explored. Loki had coaxed her mouth open, allowing his tongue to explore, and she moaned out to him, pulling harder at his hair.

Loki was the first person other than Thor that Ingrid had kissed. The feeling she got from Loki's menstruations was electric. She had never felt so euphoric from a kiss, and the more they kept going, the more she wanted. She was engulfed in him; his mouth on hers, his hands on her waist, pulling her close, and his hair between her fingers. She was on fire, and she never wanted to stop.

Loki spun her around and started walking her backwards, her legs hitting her bed before she fell backwards. She scooted up the bed, resting on her elbows, as Loki climbed over her, leaning down to connect their lips once more. He leaned her back to where she was flush against the mattress, resting his body weight atop hers.

Her hands found his shoulders, and she hiked a leg up to rest at his hip, his knee falling between her thighs. His hand that wasn't holding his weight above her dropped down to her hip, pulling her into him. He moved his mouth down, nipping behind her ear, which had her gasping out. His lips continued their sinful movements.

The two had unintentionally started moving against each other, their breaths coming out as desperate gasps, not nearly coming up for enough air. Ingrid was completely lost in their kiss, her mind going blank. She couldn’t think of anything logical, her mind muddled with thoughts of Loki on top of her. She didn’t know how long they had been kissing, it could’ve been hours, it could’ve been mere minutes. But she knew she never wanted to stop. Something about their kissing felt so right, like everything made sense. Her heart felt a sense of fullness she hadn’t ever felt before. 

“Loki,” she said. But his mind seemed too occupied to understand she was trying to communicate with him. “Loki,” she said again, this time more urgently. 

“Hm?” He hummed, not stopping his movements but flicking his eyes up to hers. 

“We have to stop,” she replied. 

It’s not that Ingrid wanted to stop, she just knew that if she didn’t stop kissing him, they’d go further than they needed to. And as strong as her feelings for the God were, she knew she wasn’t ready to give him herself fully yet. It was all happening so fast. 

“Do you want to stop?” He asked, pulling back to look at her. 

She just shook her head at him. 

“Then why do we have to stop?” He asked, smirking down at her. 

“Because we’re getting worked up,” she said, her eyes blown out, still evidently turned on. 

“And why is that so bad, darling?” He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “We’re just kissing.”

“It’s not enough,” she said. It was the truth, she needed more. She needed him more than she had ever needed anyone. But she knew things between the two of them needed to be slow, careful. 

“Not enough?” He chuckled, his eyes dark. “What can I do for you then, Ingrid?” He asked, running his hand up her back and back down to her leg that was resting on his hip. 

“Nothing yet,” she said, placing her hands on his shoulders. “We have to go slow.” 

"If slow is what the lady wants," Loki started, slowly moving off of her. "Then slow is what she will get."

"It's just all happening so fast," she said.

"Then we'll go slow and be careful, darling. Can't have us getting caught," he said, kissing her firmly once more before standing and retreating from the bed. He crossed the room and sat on the loveseat across the room. Ingrid watched a green flash appear in his hand, and when it was gone, she saw the book he had clutched in his palm.

Ingrid was left on the bed, her mind jumbled, as the God sat across the room reading. Her lips still tingled and her body burned where his hands had been. She was scared, scared of being around Loki because all she wanted to do was kiss him. And scared of herself because she didn't know if she had the self control to keep her desires at bay.

~~

Ingrid was awoken by the sound of Thor entering her bedroom. Shortly after her and Loki's "bonding" time, she had fallen asleep while Loki sat in her chair and read his book. She wasn't sure how long she had been asleep, but she felt rested.

Thor walked in, sweat gleaming on his forehead and a smile on his face. He surveyed the room, looking to Ingrid on the bed who was slowly stirring, and then to Loki who had set his book down to look at his brother.

"How is she?" Thor asked, looking to Loki and then back to Ingrid.

"She's alright," Loki replied. "She fell asleep not long after you left. How was sparring?"

"It was great," Thor boasted, puffing his chest and smiling. "I beat all of my opponents."

"As expected," Loki replied.

Ingrid sat up on her elbows and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. Thor walked over to her and sat on her bed, his hand finding her cheek.

"How are you feeling, darling?" He asked her, his thumb stroking her cheek.

Ingrid just nodded at him and gave him a small smile.

"I hate you can't speak, I miss your voice," Thor said, giving her a frown.

She gave him a small smile back and shrugged her shoulders. Not speaking was irritating her, she could only communicate with Loki, and he was driving her mad in an intoxicating way. After they had kissed, she had laid back on her bed and fell asleep with the feeling of his lips still lingering. It was the most astounding kiss she had ever had, and she'd be lying if she said she didn't crave it more.

Thor leaned into her and kissed her, and the action made her nauseous. She felt dirty, like she was committing the ultimate act of betrayal. Thor loved her, and she was kissing his brother behind his back. She didn't want to kiss Thor, she didn't want to touch him. All she wanted was sitting across her room, his thighs spread across her chair as he thumbed at a book in his large hands.

Loki felt her gaze on him as soon as she looked to him, and he looked up at her though the pages of his book. His gaze intense, his eyes staring at her with a knowing look.

She gulped.

She turned her gaze back to Thor and sighed, sitting up and moving off of her bed. She needed away from both of them. She didn't want to be near Thor because she couldn't give him what he wanted to give her.

It was clear why she didn't want to be around his brother.

As soon as she stood, however, she stumbled, her vision going black as she experienced something she never had before. She saw something, a cottage in a dark forest, the setting at night, rainy and dreary. Inside the cottage, was a woman tied to a beam, a look of fear stricken across her face.

"Tell me where she is," Her voice said.

Her voice.

Ingrid's.

But Ingrid never said that. Whoever had her voice had spoken those words, and they were also in the cabin. They looked down at the tied up woman, a dark cloak concealing them. The woman pleaded with them.

"I don't know where she is!" The woman cried.

"You do," the cloaked figure said. "And I will make you tell me."

The figure then started singing a spell, an incantation to get someone to tell the truth. It was a spell Ingrid was familiar with, but one she vowed to never use because of its malicious origins. She could make people do many things with her voice, but she vowed to never use her voice for evil.

"Jeg søker å høre din endeløse tunge Lyv ikke for meg Fortell meg historier om sannhet og fornuft Eller bli et objekt for forræderi

Gi meg din sannhet nå Ingen flere løgner, det lover du Blod skal utgytes for svik Dette er ord jeg ikke vil gjenta"

(I seek to hear your endless tongue Lie to me none Tell me stories of truth and reason Or become an object of treason

Yield your truth unto me now No more lies, this you vow Blood to be shed upon deceit These are words I will not repeat)

As soon as the figure finished reciting the spell, the woman screamed out in pain. If the spell was recited and there was no truth to be told, the victim would die. If there was a truth to be told, it would be spilled from their lips immediately, and death would follow. It was an evil truth spell, and for Ingrid to hear it recited to someone with her own voice was sickening.

The woman continued to cry in pain as a flash of magic ate her from the inside out, turning her into nothing but ash. The fear in her eyes would haunt Ingrid forever.

Ingrid just watched an innocent woman die by her own voice.

As soon as the vision ended, she collapsed onto the floor in a heap of tears, unable to catch her breath. Immediately, both brothers were by her side, trying to console her and figure out what just happened.

She frantically looked to Loki, and she grabbed his hand, placing it on her forehead. He first gave her a quizzical look, but then he understood. For once she wanted him to see into her mind.

She felt a warm tingle on her forehead that she assumed was his seidr, and as soon as she felt it, she closed her eyes. She saw the woman in the cabin again, begging for her life, and the cloaked figure in the corner. She heard the spell in her voice, and watched again as the woman died because she had no secrets to spill. Rewatching the vision made fresh tears fall from her eyes.

Once the vision was over, Loki pulled away with a similar solemn expression on his face. Thor looked between the pair with confusion and concern, trying to pull Ingrid's gaze back to him. But she was too focused on Loki. He had just seen everything she saw, and she wanted to know what he thought. She wanted his comfort because he was the only one who knew exactly what she saw.

"That is not your fault, Ingrid," he said, looking at her with such intensity she almost didn't hear what he said.

She just cried in response, overwhelmed by it all.

"What did you see, brother?" Thor asked, pulling Ingrid to his chest.

"She had a vision," Loki started, standing from where he was crouched on the ground. "Whoever took her voice is using it for evil. They took her voice to try and locate someone, and killed a woman when they didn't get their desired response."

Thor looked to Ingrid in shock, and hugged her closer to him, kissing her forehead. After a few seconds of settling in Thor's embrace, Ingrid pushed herself up to her feet as well, brushing off her dress and letting out a huff. Thor followed behind her, the three of them standing together, a feeling of unease shared among them.

Ingrid knew getting her voice back was an urgent matter, but now she felt like if she didn't get it back immediately, the world would crumble onto her. Ingrid swore herself to be a Goddess of goodness, and seeing and hearing her voice used for such evil made bile rise in her throat.

"Ingrid," Loki started, her eyes quickly snapping to his. "We must show Frigga. She can help form a plan."

"I agree," Thor said, walking beside Ingrid and placing a gentle hand on her back. "Mother is very wise with these things."

Ingrid nodded at him, and walked over to her vanity to brush out her hair. She heard the two brothers talking behind her, undoubtedly Thor making sure she wasn't acting weird before he left. Thor had no idea what Ingrid and Loki had seen, so he didn't quite understand what was going on.

"We'll get your voice back, baby."

Ingrid stopped brushing her hair and sat up straight, chills racing down her spine. She'd never get used to Loki just popping into her head. It was a sensation that gave her a thrill and made her heart leap. After she got a taste of what it's like to kiss him, the desire to be his bride instead of Thor's was agonizing. She wished she could kiss him whenever and wherever she pleased like she does with Thor. But those kisses to Loki would mean so much more.

And maybe, maybe, she'd fight for him more than she initially thought.

~~

A/N: That's it for part two! Let me know what you think! Likes, comments, and reblogs, especially reblogs, are greatly appreciated!

TAGLIST (Let me know if you'd like to be added!):

@adharanotfound , @skylarisaturtle

[birgittesilverbae]

“I seriously regret letting you move in with me” avatrice? 👀

haps (early) baps sheree

//

"Beatrice," Ava calls, a hint of a whine sneaking into her voice. "What should I wear?"

"Where are you and Chanel going?"

"That new club downtown, I think."

"The one with that horrific neon sign?"

"That's the one."

Out in the living room Beatrice falls silent, and Ava stands with her hands on her hips and peruses the contents of her closet. The very meticulously colour-coded contents of her closet. "Beatrice!" Ava calls again, louder, "did you organise my closet?"

"I might have," she replies carefully.

"How am I meant to find anything in here?"

"By colour, clearly?"

"That doesn't– That makes absolutely no sense, Bea. Oh, man, I seriously regret letting you move in with me."

"Letting? I seem to recall being asked whether I would like to move in with you."

Ava waves a hand. "Potato, potahto. Either way, I am harbouring Regrets. Capital 'R' Regrets, by the way. Where's my baby blue crop top?"

"With your other blue shirts."

"For what reason?!"

Beatrice hums the hum that means she's caught on that Ava's just dicking around and as such has all but tuned her out. "Because it's blue," she says flatly, "clearly."

"And it's not with the other crop tops because?"

"Because it's blue," Bea repeats, "clearly. If you don't subscribe to my organisational choices, maybe tell me the next time you ask me to hang your clothes, darling."

"Fine." Ava locates the crop top and pulls it on before heading back out into the living room. "You really don't want to come with us? It's a Friday night, a whole wide world of possibilities out there for us, and you'd rather take up residence on the couch and watch–" She glances at the television and then turns to face it, eyes going wide. "Is that iguana being chased by snakes?" 

"It is."

"Holy shit." Ava settles on the edge of the couch cushion, elbows on her knees and chin cupped in her hands.

"Ava, darling, you've got to finish getting ready before Chanel gets here."

"Just, lemme see how this plays out." She stares enthralled until the iguana makes its daring escape, then pops back to her feet. "Okay, I see the appeal, but you're absolutely positive you don't want to come with us?" 

"I am, Ava. You haven't gotten alone time with Chanel in a couple of months, I'm not going to infringe on that. Go, have fun, and wear those high-waisted denim shorts." Bea gets a sharp glint in her eye. "They always make your ass look even more fantastic." 

[asterkiss]

Knock Knock - Part III

This is gonna end up as some oneshot compiled together on AO3 by the end of it. Still kinda freeballing this but the main idea is there. Part I | Part II

‘Her vitals are all reading as normal,’ Stanford muttered, crouched beside his niece’s bed.’

‘Then why isn’t she waking up?’ Dipper asked, unable to hide the panic in his voice as he shifted from one foot to the other repeatedly.

‘Where’s Bill?’ Stanley asked, looking around suspiciously. ‘This definitely has something to do with him.’

‘Somebody call for me?’ The triangle flashed into the room, twirling his cane with dramatic flare although that faded as he noted the angry glares shooting in his direction. ‘Yikes, tough crowd.’

‘What did you do to Mabel, you bastard?’ Stanley snapped, raising a fist.

‘Hm? I didn’t do anything.’

‘Really?’ Stanford asked, looking disbelieving as he remained knelt beside the bed. 

The demon glanced down at the sleeping girl, drawing closer as his eye scrutinised her keenly. ‘Hmm.’

‘What does ‘hmm’ mean?’ Dipper asked, voice sharp. Yeah, they were “allies” with Bill now in a weird dysfunctional way but the demon still annoyed the heck out of him. (Mabel claimed Bill only bullied Dipper to get his attention but that didn’t make it any better!)

‘It means… your sister messed up.’

‘Huh?’

Bill floated over the girl, reaching out to poke and prod her face. Dipper scowled, about to tell him to piss off when the demon retracted and folded his arms with a click of his tongue. ‘Ah Shooting Star, what’ve you gone and done now?’

‘What has she done?’ Stanford asked. ‘Give us answers.’

Bill glanced aside at the men, thoughtful for a moment before he responded. ‘Easiest way to describe it would be that Shooting Star’s gone ahead and invited some nefarious something-something’s inside her mind.’

‘What the hell does that mean?’ Dipper asked, eyes wide. ‘Why would she ever do that?’ A pause, and his face fell as he slapped a hand over his mouth. ‘Wait. Don’t tell me, this monster looked hot.’

‘Heh heh, you think so? Thanks, Pine Tree.’

‘Huh?’

‘I suppose I am quite attractive,’ Bill said, posing.

The men stared at him flatly.

‘Wait, you’re the one she let in?’ Stanley snapped, eyes wide as he looked murderous. ‘So you did do this! You son of a bi-'

‘Well, yes but also no,’ Bill replied breezily, before his care-free attitude slowly slipped and he looked serious. ‘Alright, lemme see if I can explain this…’

>

Mabel wasn’t sure where she was.

It looked like Gravity Falls but everything was bleak and devoid of colour. And everytime she walked, it felt like there were a pair of eyes watching her every move, it felt like someone was stalking her.

But whenever she turned around there was nobody there.

There was nobody anywhere.

It was just her.

Here.

Alone.

Until it wasn’t.

‘Sup.’

She turned around, feeling a surge of relief at the sight of the dream demon. ‘Bill! Jeez, I’m glad to see you. What the heck is going on?’

The demon began to approach and Mabel wasn’t sure why but something inside her began to feel anxious.

He was drawing closer.

And closer-

‘Wait, stop,’ she said, beginning to back away.

Bill blinked. ‘Why?’

‘I…. I don’t know.’ She frowned, rubbing her right arm which suddenly had goosebumps upon it. Mabel wasn’t sure why but suddenly every fibre of her being was feeling on edge, adrenaline racing through her body for a reason she didn’t know. ‘Um… Look, can I wake up now? This is a dream right?’

The triangle paused. ‘Sure,’ he replied. ‘Just come here and take my hand, I’ll wake ya up.’ He held out a singular black hand towards her.

She’d taken his hand plenty of times before.

It was easy.

So why did the notion of taking it right now fill her with dread?

The teenager swallowed thickly, shuffling on her feet. ‘Um, is there no other way?’

‘Huh? What’s up with you, just take it. I ain't got cooties or a flesh eating disease. Not this time anyway.’

Mabel grimaced. She stared at the demon, trying to pinpoint why exactly she was feeling so on edge. It was Bill! Sure, he was still an ass at times but he was alright otherwise. He was like a mascot for the family who sometimes switched the salt for washing powder or stuffed nettles in their shoes. 

So why was she feeling such dangerous vibes where every part of her intuition was telling her to run?

‘...Uh, you… you are Bill, right?’

The demon stared at her.

And then he slowly retracted his hand.

‘Yeah,’ he replied. ‘And you let me in. Remember?’

‘Huh?’

‘You opened the door.’

The door?

Oh.

That door.

“Don’t open it!” That’s what he’d said, repeatedly. Mabel swallowed thickly, and forced a nervous laugh as Bill continued to stare. ‘Oh, haha, yeah I guess I did. Oops. That’s…. Um, is that bad?’

‘Depends on who you ask.’

Okay, that was an ominous response. She didn’t like that. She took another step back. How the hell was she meant to wake up? 

‘What do you want?’ she asked instead, stalling as she tried to figure out what to do.

The demon blinked. ‘You.’

‘Eh? Me?’

‘You opened the door and started this, so it’s you who’s gonna finish it. That's how it goes, I don't make the rules.’

‘Um, what?’ She was totally confused here. ‘What the heck are you talking about?’

‘I lied by the way.’

She froze. What?

‘Earlier.’ His eye creased in amusement. ‘When I said I was Bill. Well, kinda lying, kinda not. But it stalled ya long enough for me to do this.’ 

He snapped a finger and Mabel released a gasp as she suddenly fell down a foot into the ground. When she dropped her gaze, she found a dark and shifting pool of shadows beneath, slowly swallowing her up like quick sand. She yelled and struggled, trying to break free as she sank but this stuff had the consistency of glue. As it swallowed her up to her waist, she raised her head and looked at the triangle with alarm. 

‘Who the hell are you!? Let me go or else!!’

He appeared before her in an instant. A hand grasped her face, and she flinched as the demon cradled her jaw. She was no longer sinking any further, but she still couldn't pull free. Her heart beat erratically as she stared at the bulbous eye inches from her face. 

‘Me? I’m a fragment,’ he said, sounding oddly serious with no sign of his usual cavalier attitude. ‘And I’m here to get things back to how they should be.’

‘That just raises like a bunch more questions, you weirdo!’

‘He likes you.’

‘Huh?’

‘Bill. Me. Us.’ His finger brushed across her skin, eye narrowing. ‘How else would he try to warn you away from me?’ A pause and the dark look melted as he spoke in a light manner once more. ‘Oh well, lucky for me you don't listen to others and steamroll ahead with your own ideas. I can see why we like you. You're quite the troublemaker, arent'cha?’

‘Urgh, I have no idea what you’re talking about! Quit monologing and let me go!' She was gonna punch him in the eye. At least, that's what she planned on but she suddenly found both her arms had been caught by the churning shadows beneath and she was unable to raise them.

‘Hmm, nope.’ 

The triangle retracted his hand and floated back, offering a small wave. ‘See ya, Shooting Star.’

She was sinking again. Her eyes widened and she kept scrambling to escape but it was no use. The last thing she saw before her head went under was the sight of “Bill” watching her with glee.

[loveneversleepss]

Words(Drabble) 18+

Dom!Han jisung x cheater!female reader

Inspired from @sailorhyunjinz

Warnings: smut duh minors dni , slight angst, unprotected sex(wrap before you tap), softish sex? edging? Nicknames (baby, Angel), reader hurts Han, cursing.

His sinful lips sucking on your collar bones as he thrusts into you. Leaving beautiful markings as his tongue licks down your body. Sending tingles down your spine. His thrusts sharp and hitting that gummy part inside your body. Butterflies each time he pulls out leaving the tip then thrusting back in. His hands softly exploring you skin, occasionally groping your tits.

“Does it feel good, baby?” His eyes shoot up to yours to watch you as your moans slip out of your mouth. “Don’t you love when you let me use you like this, Angel?” Your head nods. “Words, baby.” His hands Inter wine with yours as he is directly above you now. Awaiting your response.

Your head was spinning and you felt as if you were floating from the intense pleasure he was giving you. Eyes closed to focus on the feeling. Then you let words slip out from your mouth, “Minho-ah fuck..”

He practically breaks. He stops his movements completely while he looks at you in horror. Your eyes shoot open when you realize what you just said. “Wait, Hannie, I didn’t mean that..” Your hands attempt to wrap around him but he pulls away. “Didn’t mean what? To moan out my hyungs name instead of mine? Really classy, y/n.”

His face has a sullen and shocked look to it. As if he was child whose lollipop was just taken from him. He started to put his clothes back on as he sat on the edge of the bed. “Wait, I-I don’t know why I said that..” Your breathing a bit lacking due to the intense session you just had. You crawl over to him despite your body shaking a bit. Your hands wrap around him, giving him a back hug. “I can’t even look at you right now.” He shakes you off as you feel a bit of tears in your eyes. Clouding your vision.

“I’m going out. Don’t wait up.” He gets up and throws your shirt at you. Covering yourself as you watch him put on his shoes. “Please don’t go.. lemme explain myself..” he just turns to the door and opens it. A tall figure standing there as soon as he comes out. Minho. Speak of the devil. Although Jisung isn’t facing my direction, you can tell he is pissed off.

“Tsk.” His head looks at him up and down. He then turns his body a bit towards you. “All yours man. Hope you satisfy her better than me.” He shoved his shoulder into Minho as he passes him. Minho looks at you confused. “What’s up with him?” You just look at the floor as he walks over to you. “Did you tell him yet?”

Bye bye now!

[slocumjoe]

A look into my character creation process, featuring Florence and Isadora (feat. Gage thoughts + comparisons)

Character Design

So, already, you can see the differences, but lemme point out exactly what I did.

Isadora is a Brazilian woman of multiracial descent, whereas Florence is a white southern woman.

Starting with Isadora, her face is long, somewhat gaunt, and has many sharp edges. Her cheekbones are extremely pronounced, her nose has a completely flat slope down into a point, and her eyes are feline. She has a 'dorito body', stands tall at 6 feetish, and is muscular and toned.

Flora, on the other hand, is opposite. She has a small button nose, smaller, more rounded 'princess peach' lips, big puppy eyes, and soft, full cheeks with fat. She has body rolls and pudge, and lacks 'wear and tear' for lack of a better word.

Isadora has noticeable aging lines, Florence doesn't. Where Florence's hair is loosely put up to nicely frame her face, Isadora's is shaved, and pulled back into a practical ponytail. Florence's makeup is simple and natural, but Isadora's is flamboyant.

Here's what they look like in greyscale.

As you can see, despite Isadora's makeup being more experimental, hers doesn't fundamentally change the values and 'figure' of her face. However, Florence's does. Her makeup emphasizes her face, and you can more easily tell what effect it has visually.

You might have noticed that their wardrobes are different as well. Isadora wears a camo jumpsuit, leather armor, and a backback (the straps can be seen). Florence wears dangling jewelry and a bright red coat and ornate corset.

So, what is the point of all of this?

Florence is designed to mirror Isadora. Flo wears her makeup hard to notice, but enough to make her feature more noticeable. Make her eyes more doe-like, her lips softer and sweeter, her cheeks flushed. It's to make her more appealing, her expressions more noticable. Flora uses makeup to make herself look innocent and sweet.

Isa, on the other hand, does nothing with her appearance for anyone's viewing pleasure, for any sort of gain. This isn't a 'not like other girls' thing, stop that. Isadora wears her makeup in the colors of her favorite animal, the peacock. Its bright, it's tacky, it's detered many people from having anything to do with her. Florence lures people in, Isadora pushes them away.

As for the clothing, Isadora is a GNC army vet, a combat engineer. Her pockets are full of tools, parts, fuels. Her backpack, even more so, with rations, camping gear, ammo, weaponry, etc. Shes in combat, she needs armor on, she needs to not be easily detected. Florence, on the other hand, is, functionally, a Donna. A leader of a mafia. Its a trade network, but she runs it with an iron fist and a sweet red smile. Her clothing is expensive, empowering, shows off her chest and neck almost like bait. Both outfits are also indicators of their color pallets; Florence is all about reds and pinks, Isa is all about greens and blues. She's not getting dirty, she's not even out on the field.

I intentionally made Florence look like a quaint little lady. Florence goes out of her way to look non-threatening and cute, while Isa is older, has been through too much bullshit, and simplifies where she can.

Basically, Florence is the way she is because she had to be different from Isadora in as many ways as I could get.

Parallels

Getting into their backstories here.

So, Florence born into a large, fairly privileged people in a rich, wealthy settlement. She was raised to provide for her family, and took up work as a singer for a bar in the wealthiest district. From there, she met the son of the captain of the Coalmaw, a ship fleet off the coast of the southeast. The Coalmaw got its work running supplies, a small-time shipping company. Florence's parents married her off to the captain's son so they could take advantage of her new husband's wealth and power. Flora, from here, took control of the shipping company, building it up and expanding into a coast-wide trade network quickly spreading all across the wasteland. Despite her husband being abusive, Flora stuck with it as a show of power. However, her husband wanted her to keep singing, so she was stuck in the Coalmaw's bar.

Florence hated being back where she started, despite having made an empire for herself, by herself. She hated everyone else profiting off it even more. The people around her justified her predicament as simple dog eat dog philosophy; her husband was going to marry someone and abuse them. She shouldn't take it personally that it was her. Someone would have taken advantage of the trade network anyway. She shouldn't take it so personally that everyone else got to have some of the pie, and she didn't.

Isadora was born into a small, struggling family in Florianópolis, Brazil. Isa wasn't understood by her family, but they provided for her the best they could, and encouraged her to achieve the best in life for herself. Her city suffered following the invasion of Mexico in 2051, around the time of her birth. Florianópolis has one of the lowest crime rates in Brazil, but when the economy takes a nosedive, people get desperate. The local government protected the citizens the best they could, neighbors looked out for one another, and people got by a lot better than anywhere else for it. Community and banding together kept everything from going to shit. When someone or a group stepped out of line, trying to make it through on top through force and violence, they got the shit beaten out of them. Everyone protected everyone. Anyone who became an enemy was treated as such. Their unity made them stronger.

Later in life, as Isadora found great successes, such as graduating from the Commonwealth Institute of Technology at the top of her class, setting herself up financially following her invention and selling of the Assaultatrons, and becoming a decorated combat engineer and war hero. However, she always struggled to connect with other people, and ended up settling for a relationship she wasn't happy in and having a kid she didn't want.

Florence was made a sacrificial lamb, told that she had to suffer for everyone else's benefit. Isadora was shown that everyone will benefit if everyone pitches in what they can.

But, while Isadora was able to push through the doom and gloom of a collapsing society by trusting in the good of people, she never really understood what she wanted for herself. Isadora was taught so much community, that she hadn't figured out who she was, if not what she could do for others. Isadora would never regret how she came up in life, but all of her motivations are outside of herself. She had a kid because her husband wanted it. She had a husband because she was expected to, having served beside him in the army the entire time they knew each other. She joined the army because America was her country, now, and they needed robotic experts on the frontlines. Isadora often felt like she was going through the motions. She knew what she wanted for the world, and exactly how to get that. But never what was good for her.

Flora, on the other hand, knows exactly who she is and what she wants. She wants her empire to herself, she wants out of her marriage, and she wants away from her family. Flo wants to establish her network as far as she can, to make a better future. She never bought into the idea that someone had to suffer. In the world she grew up in, yes. But only because people made it that way. Florence believes that while she needs to be cruel to get and keep her place, her work in rebuilding society and connections will help lessen the need or faith in the practices that hurt her. The ends justify the means.

In Regards to Gage

This brings us to Gage.

Let's use the Dog Eat Dog metaphor.

Gage wants to cozy up to a big dog, and be protected by it and get some of the kill. He wants to be safe, not the one getting eaten. Victim or Victor, he's a victor.

Isadora is a big dog, who eats other big dogs who would prey on weaker ones. She thinks they could all eat and work together, but if one dog is aggressive and wants a fight, she'll give it to him to protect everyone else. Victimizes the other victors.

Florence schemes with every smaller dog to gang up on big dogs to take their resources, then allows other dogs to have the kills in exchange for their loyalty, then absorbs some big dogs, uses them against the others to keep them in line. She uses every other dog against each other to keep power and control, forcefully and often brutally enforcing civility through threat of death and being exiled from the resources and privileges she has control over. Everyone is a victor, but at the cost of being a victim of Flora's system.

So, it's like...

Gage; the cage is shitty

Isa; no cage

Flora; the cage is gold and comfy, but the bars are electric.

In regards to the slave traders in Nuka World, now.

Gage would enslave and be cruel to the traders as a show of power. It's better to always have the reigns tight so they know to not cross you, you always have to be at their throats.

Isadora would free them and kill their enslavers as a show of protection. The best defense against cruelty is overwhelming opposition, destroying any monument to its power or effectiveness.

Florence would basically enslave them, but take good care of them. She doesn't need to be cruel, her power is absolute, and it's better to keep your people on your side rather then needlessly alienate them.

Shipping Who With Who

All this to say; I almost broke up Danse and Isadora to ship her with Gage.

Isadora and Gage are of similar age, opposite but still valuable as enlightening perspectives, have personalities that compliment each other very well, look good next to each other, have incredible tension, and would be good for each other.

IsaDanse works because Danse and Isa have lived almost the same lives. Doing everything for the sake of their community, valuing it above all else, but neglecting their own needs and mental health, and having a crisis when forced to confront how unhappy it made them, and questioning if they're selfish, traitors. Ask me about Danse and Isa and I will kiss you on the mouth, but that's a different essay.

Point is, Gage and Isa would work so good as a ship that it almost destroyed the heart and soul of this very blog; Paladin Danse getting a hot milf gf.

So...Flora.

I made her to be Isadora's mirror, to match her beat for beat but with different drums. Well, Gage is why. Florence needed to be similar to Isa to replicate the fun narrative potential with Gage.

Where Danse and Isa work because they understand each other, Florence and Gage work because they have to unlearn some shit to understand the other.

Gage thinks in Dog Eat Dog, someone has to die, its inevitable, etc...but then he starts learning about Florence, someone he's fallen in love with. The same lifestyle and philosophy Gage has, everyone else has used to hurt her. Dog Eat Dog goes both ways. Gage has to listen to everyone justify why its okay that they put her through what they did, and has to think oh shit, I've said this word for word before. The very thing that he used to protect himself, the love of his life was tortured with.

And Florence is so similar to him in thought process. But where Gage succumbed to Dog Eat Dog, Florence looked at it and said, okay, have it your way :) and put shock collars on everyone, forcing them to play by her rules. Not for revenge, but so she could try and make a world where no one would be hurt the way she was. If you control everything with an iron fist, you can protect everything. Florence is cruel when she needs to be, but she does everything with weaponized realism.

Gage, on the other hand, has weaponized his pessimism. But with Isadora's successes with the Minutemen, and Florence explaining and demonstrating the value in abandoning the idea that suffering is a rite of passage, that cracks. He has people he cares about, he doesn't want them to hurt. If someone hurts them to survive, does he have a right to the anger when he's done the same thing? Gage has to rethink what he believes can be done about the world and the nature of communities.

Back to Isadora, she's weaponized optimism. She's always looking for the sunshine in a storm. Isa thinks that she can get away with endless compassion and hope, and she enforces it with her army and sheer will. She acknowledges that it can be a privilege to be kind, but there is nothing in the world that can touch her, take her down, stop her from rebuilding the Commonwealth and helping as many people as she can. Isadora is a force of nature for good, and she has the firepower to back it up.

Flora has a more critical view of the world, Isadora thinks that while perfection is impossible, it doesn't take much for society to be good. Isa finds that community is all you need, basic kindness and compassion. She thinks humans and humanity are good. Florence thinks they're a wildcard that can be influenced. Gage thinks its all a pile of shit.

I think Isadora eventually worms her way into Gage's...tolerance, at least. He comes to respect that she very much earned her reckless compassion, got herself so much power that she can afford it. And Isa values someone who tells her no, challenges her, gives her perspectives that she wouldn't normally notice.

As for Isadora and Flora, I think Isadora would control the Minuteman army as a means of protection, while Florence would take over running the settlements, once it all got too big and successful for Isadora to manage on her own. They work closely together and get along great, having similar personalities and ideals. Even if Isadora is horrified at Flora's more capitalistic tendencies, and Flora thinks Isadora is too kind and generous for her own good.

[thegingerjedi]

GIVE ME THAT LAYLA AND WYLL SNIPPET, I GOTTA SEE IT

YES MA'AM!!! I'll warn you that I've been happy with nothing I've actually written for them thus far, but lemme tell you. I have so many thoughts.

Behind a readmore because it's a little long...

She hesitated for just a second before she pushed open the flap to his tent and entered. Wyll sat on the floor amongst the pillows she gathered around him, a hand mirror face down on the floor beside him.  He noticed her gaze lingering on the mirror and he forced a sad little chuckle, “I can feel the weight of these horns on my head, curling upward like a mammoth’s tusks. I feel these ridges snaking down my neck. Not to mention a few bumps and prongs in unmentionable places. But I can’t gather the courage to look at my reflection yet… Be my mirror, would you? What do you see when you look at me now?” Layla sat in front of him, her legs folded beneath her and the plate of food between them. She looked him up and down, eyes lingering on the spiraling horns, the inky black and infernal red of his good eye, the sharp edges of his cheek and collar bones.  A smile pulled at the side of her mouth, “You’re certainly a handsome devil, if I may say so.” He laughed, the sound warm and joyful, despite everything. Something hot surged through her, and she had the feeling it wasn’t any sort of devil magic. “I can’t tell if you’re being silly or serious, but I’ll accept the flattery either way.” It was good to see him smile. He reached forward and took a biscuit off the plate, looking it over in his hands, tilting his head to the left and right as he regarded it. She let a long moment pass before she asked him, “Everything okay?” He sighed, still staring intently at the pastry he held, “Truth be told, not really. My head aches, my skin itches… and I… well, I feel like I’m in a stranger’s body. I know it’s mine still, but…” he drifted off. Layla reached forward and placed her hand gently on his knee, “Why don’t you take today to figure out what’s next for you? Take some downtime, practice with a rapier, find your new center of gravity.” Wyll looked up at her, a dark sadness in his eyes, “I probably wouldn’t be much use out on the road today.” “I didn’t say that,” she replied softly, “I just don’t want you to rush too quickly back into the fray. The Blade needs to take care of himself, too, you know.” He nodded, “Alright, you make a fair point. I’ll stay behind.” She squeezed his knee and pushed herself up onto her feet, “Get some rest today, Wyll. I’ll see you later, okay?” “Be safe out there,” he replied, with a touch of his regular good humor, “You won’t have the Blade of the Frontiers at your side to fend off any goblins.” Layla laughed, “I will be lesser for your absence, dear Blade. But I will manage as best I can.”

idk if it's obvious or not, but that takes place the morning after Mizora visits camp after you refuse to kill Karlach and well... demonifies Wyll.

[caustic-light]

Hello! Im curious what about narutos design lends itself to him being chubby.

Ok, so lemme first give some examples of characters where being skinny is done in a way I find well designed, so you get where I’m coming from. Forgive me for having limited example images, it’s surprisingly hard to find good examples, at least with my research skills. And I didn’t feel like wading through multiple different mangas rn.

Let’s start with Gon from HxH, because Naruto has some interesting parallels to him.

Gon is small first of all. In the bottom picture he’s drowning in his clothes, in the top his clothes show off how much of a twig he is.

Gon as a character is incredibly animalistic and his character arc (I will try to make this mostly spoiler less, even if it means I can’t use some very telling moments as examples) is about basically constantly hitting walls and brute forcing his way through. He has a goal and to accomplish that he needs to be strong. To grow strong he needs challenge and he throws himself head first at it. But he’s also very small and frail and the way he goes about things makes him even more frail and vulnerable. He’s animalistic in a way that shifts around between being a lurking predator targeting a prey that vastly outmatches him in every possible regard and being a cornered prey animal turning to fight out of desperation.

Look at how this comes across. Look at what this does. That guy could break him in half and you need to know nothing about either of them to know that. This feels a lot like early Dragonball where Toriyama used similar size imagery, but with the clear distinction of Goku being much more round, much more balanced, much more secure, and in turn inspiring much more confidence. Gon here is at his limit before the fight even began. This is enforced by the fact that frequently Gon can not brute force his way forward. He is constantly hopelessly outmatched and sometimes gets away with his life just barely.

If he was an animal, he would be constantly fighting starvation. His entire character arc happens at his limits. And he looks the part. No matter how powerful he gets, no matter how many incredible things he may end up doing, he never stops being a hopelessly outmatched underdog who has to fight tooth and nail to just get out of whatever situation alive. And he always looks like he could easily be broken apart, or just fall apart on his own from sheer exhaustion.

Another example: Digimon Tamers:

I’m using a screenshot form the opening here because this is an early 2000s low budged Toei production and as such the actual show is incredibly inconsistent with sticking to the characters bodies details.

But look at how despite all being skinny, everyone here has their own shape. Takato (boy in the front) has really wide hips and soft lines, his clothes emphasize that and even give a slight roundness to his chest.

To his left, Jian is much more blocky and rectangular, but not in a way that comes across as sharp. Their bodies are proportioned pretty much identically, but the fine details set them immediately apart. The clothes emphasize these differences even more.

To his right, Ruki has much more defined curves, which are also accentuated by her clothes being tight fitting, but out of the main three she also comes across as the most edgy and sharp. Note how despite her being already distinctly more feminine in her shapes (for context they’re all around the edge of puberty age wise) Takato still has wider hips than her simply because that’s how he is built.

But in his case it doesn’t come across as feminine simply because the context is different. (Also can I just say how much I love it when male characters are given wide hips. It’s such a common body type, especially for kids, but you see it so rarely represented.)

You could tell these characters apart with just a headless, naked silhouette.

Okay, Naruto.

Having gone through all that, lemme ask: What does his body do for his design?

He borrows Gon’s animal motif, he even leans into it much, much more and he has similarly lose clothing, but it doesn’t really come across the same way, does it?

Because Naruto isn’t small. He is an underdog, but his arc is about growing out of that status. I couldn’t find a nice image of this without having to go through the manga/anime, but his moments of triumph pose him in a way that is powerful and imposing. Think about when he enters sage mode against Pain. He is big and looming. He takes up visual real estate. 

Where gon has to become strong enough to punch up at a bigger opponent and get away with it, Naruto grows strong enough for people to look up at him. When he wins against a powerful foe, it’s with a big pose, big action, big demonstration of his power. So being skinny doesn’t really do anything for the way he is shown.

I found this panel interesting because in this outfit he is basically 90% silhouette. And it doesn’t really do anything does it? The way he is shaped doesn’t draw attention to itself, it doesn’t say anything, it doesn’t direct your view in any way. All the interest, all the visual communication happens through his clothes and through details. His hair, his eyes, the marks on his face, the symbols on him.

Compare him to nsfw Sasuke over there, if you took their clothes off, could you tell they were different characters? Does the way they’re drawn make you think their bodies are shaped differently in any way?

Maybe Naruto’s shoulders are a little broader? It’s hard to say. The clothes obscure it. Which isn’t bad. But if your outfit obscures every detail of a characters shape, there is no body left below it. And that’s imo poor design. The outfit should accentuate the shape of the character or play with it, rather than take over as it’s own shape.

So why make him chubby?

There is a couple reasons.

For one, it lends itself both to the underdog status and the imposing, powerful and revered status he oscillates between. It would be very easy for his peers to see him as the fat kid who does nothing but eat ramen all day, but is also really scary for fox demon reasons.

But it also makes it so when he is big and powerful, he takes up so much more room. It makes it so when he raises his arm to throw a rasen shuriken, or dives in for the final hit you feel that all the more. If there is more mass on him, there is more mass in his movements.

Another duality that would be emphasized is one of lack of control vs mastery.

When he loses himself to the fox spirit, he becomes animalistic. He crouches and he moves with a low center of gravity. He protects his belly, because for all mammals the belly is the big weak point. That’s where we’re soft and squishy. It’s where all the organs are. That’s why when we put on weight it usually starts there. It’s the part that needs the most cushioning. And it’s part of why mammals largely evolved a quadrupedal stance. It protects the soft stuff. It’s also why a lot of mammals show both submission and trust by exposing their bellies.

Naruto’s source of power (visually) lies in his stomach. Making it softer emphasizes the vulnerability. And it emphasized how defensive and covered every movement of him is when he loses control. 

But when he reaches mastery, when he dominates, when he is shown as powerful and presented the way the people of the village ended up seeing him, he is fully upright. He doesn’t lurch from a crouched stance, he stands tall and proud and he moves with calmness and grace. Again, the most striking visual of this is how he raises his arm up high to throw a rasen shuriken. 

So you have this contrast of the intensely defensive state when he loses himself, where being chubby would emphasize his vulnerability and the powerful state of control where being chubby would emphasize that power and stand in direct contrast to the protectiveness of his animalistic side.

His outfit could also much more easily do what it does. If he had a larger frame, the outfit from the above image instead of devouring him would accentuate him. He would be a massive silhouette, made bigger and more comfortably powerful by the big cuff on his neck and the way the jacket defines his shoulders and there would be more room to add cool little marks and details without being as cluttered as it would be on a smaller canvas.

There is also a lot more potential for the time skip. As it stands, he didn’t change all that much visually. He got taller and broader.

But imagine if he went (purely visually) from the fat kid getting bullied to the fat teenager who nobody messes with because while he didn’t lose any fat, he got much taller, much broader and much stronger and everyone realized at some point he could easily knock their lights out. Being fat and adding that muscle beneath, the broader shoulders, the height, the visible strength would just make the redesign and time skip a whole lot more interesting and worthwhile.

The story also draws a lot of attention to his stomach directly. The seal is there. The chakra comes from there. It’s exposed and shown relatively often. A friend of mine noted seeing the seal on his skinny stomach feels like if you made Steven Universe skinny and YMMV but I personally just can not unsee that now.

[palbabor-writes]

so i’ve had a draft languishing in my WIPs for a bit.

it’s a getō x reader & it’ll be pre-gojo’s past arc by a few months but will link up with that by the end. no spoilers in this bit tho!

anyhow. here’s a snippet. lemme know what you think 🧐

She’s prickly, unsociable & so brittle it sets his teeth on edge.

A small clan. One of the lesser. Always scrabbling for an edge. Lagging behind those with the bloodlines. Those who like to pretend that the echoes of long faded ichor matter in the grand scheme of things. It’s been years since the Zen’in clan has produced the ten shadows. What will prayers and haughtiness do about it now?

Don’t talk to her about it, Satoru warns. Better to not stoke a fire that isn’t contained. But Satoru has a high-mindedness that’s all his own.

After all, that’s his birthright. And the first in four hundred years to have both. A paragon at seventeen. Of course she’d slip his notice.

She’s a year younger, Shoko reminds him. Part of another three man team. Not any of his business. Why bother? It’s all so very Shoko. Lazy. Practical. Prescribed. She’ll make a fine doctor. If she can be bothered to put in the time.

Despite these warnings from his team mates, he can’t help but look for her name on the rosters. Both familiar and unfamiliar, checking and double checking until he spies her surname. She’s lagging behind. Crushed under the numbers of her peers.

Shit.

But it’s not his concern, he reminds himself. Who cares?

When he knocks on Yaga’s door he has another question in mind. Something eloquent; prepped and well thought out. But the one he blurts out is: why will no one recommend her?

Yaga fixes him with a hard look. Some have tried. Teachers mostly. But most decide it’s not worth the fight. He doesn’t elaborate. And Getō’s original query is so distant now he can’t even grasp at a tendril of an excuse.

I’m a first grade. Let me put her up in the next panel.

You don’t even know her. Yaga intones; sharp eyes boring into Getōs. Besides, you have two missions coming up this month. Not to mention your own panel. Graduation is next year.

I don’t care.

He does though. So much it makes his toes curl and his mind wander. Yaga tells him to get out with a snort of derision and Getō can practically feel his teacher’s eyes rolling as he slides the door closed behind him.

You ever even talk to her? Gojo laughs, popping another mochi into his mouth.

Once or twice.

She’s the rank she is because she can’t hack the system. You know that, right?

Sure, getō echoes, spying you on the training field. But it’s our job to uphold and support our fellow sorcerers.

Ugh, not this bullshit again

If you don’t want to hear it, don’t ask. Getō quips, a glimmer of a smile on his lips

The day after the panel recommendations are announced he loiters by your classroom. He doesn’t mean to be so obvious. He should be waiting for Shoko in the infirmary. He told her he would. But for some reason, this just feels like the right thing to do.

Your eyes snap to his when you step into the hallway, your boots shining with a fresh polish, fingers knotted into tight fists at your side

Did you really put my name up for 1st grade?

Uh, yeah. Getō at least has the grace to scratch at the back of his head, nails sharp against the obsidian strands. This is not going to plan.

Why?

Because I wanted to.

You don’t even know me.

Why does everyone say that, he thinks, nose wrinkling in distaste. Even if it is partially true.

That’s not true, he lies. We’ve gone to jujutsu tech for two years together. Even fought in this years group during the school tournament. And I remember you from martial arts training. That was almost three years ago now.

You’re silent after his litany of reasons and he pads one step, two steps closer.

You aren’t a grade 4. He says, hoping to imbue some conviction into his vocalization. Haven’t been for at least a year. Even then you really came in at grade 2, what with your control over cursed—

And you, in your infinite wisdom, felt I’d just languish in obscurity until you came along and fixed it?

I- what?

I told them no.

Told them? Wait. Do you mean the council? Shit. This isn’t going to plan.

Yeah. Told them there’d be a mix up. You must have put my name on accident. Or as a joke.

He’s getting annoyed; shoulders bunching closer to his ears, upper lip curling until his sharp canine is gleaming in the late afternoon glow of the overhead lights. It wasn’t an accident. And I certainly didn’t do it as some sort of joke. Has Satoru been talking to you? Did he tell you—

Look, you sigh, pink tongue slicking over your bottom lip, leaving a glimmering sheen behind. Getō’s nostrils flare at that and he rocks forward, toes stretching for the tip of his boots. As if that’ll let him soak up more of you. As if it’ll dampen the simmering anger from your eyes.

I don’t need your help.

🧍‍♀️

[nekasu]

@ofhope from here

Can't blame a gal for learning new tricks, after all — with all the work summer had in-store, Yoimiya couldn't recall the last time she'd even looked at her bow! Therein, the ever-lingering temptation of picking up a new instrument to spar with, a polearm or maybe the might of a claymore, the fluidity of a sword... that would come later though, once the dust had been thoroughly cleaned free of her ever-favored weapon.

“I ~ was kinda' tired of all this life-or-death stuff, so I thought: maybe some other folks are, too! And! And and! I have a small prize stored away for the winner! ... Well, sorta'? I'd still give it to you, even if I'd won. Aaaaanyway, all that to say - I'm so, so down! What kinda' weapon are you sporting, anyway? C'mooon, lemme seee!!!”

She definitely looked fired up, and Neka himself was curious just what this session would entail. He hadn't gotten out much in the last 500 years, so perhaps the people of Inazuma had gotten stronger or more creative since then.

A faint chuckle escaped the kitsune. "What weapon do I sport? A silly question. I am the weapon and need nothing further. But, if you want to see me wielding something, I can show you my signature tool." Holding his hand out to the side, a red blade formed from wisps of inky darkness. But...upon closer inspection, while the implement resembled a long sword, even a neophyte could tell that neither the tip nor edges looked sharp.

"Alas, this is but a pen, but it's the most useful item in my possession. Shall I show you just what it can do~?"