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#its so much. how am i supposed to ever tell anyone about it if its this much
sludgeguzzler · 8 months
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im so tired of all of this. i wish i could put it into paper in the form of art but that always feels so impossible
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soullessjack · 1 year
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every day I remember that this fandom simply does not care about autistic people and, much like every other fucking thing I experience as an autistic person, the concept of it being a collective found family becomes increasingly alien to me. love this place.
#we really just can’t win I fucking hate it here#like this is my special interest. this is my community. I’ve met so many people through it that ended up becoming lifelong friends#I’ve been here for almost ten years and it’s meant everything to me for ten years. it’s kept me going through so much shit.#it’s more than just a show and more than just a fandom and it’s one of the best things I’ve ever been apart of#and like I didn’t realize I was autistic until like late 2021. I didn’t even realize SPN was my special interest until then either#I didn’t realize JACK was my special interest. but knowing that he is autistic means so much to me#and its meant so much to other autistic ppl in the fandom. somebody at MomentoCon even mentioned it to Alex last weekend for fucks sake .#it’s real and it’s special and it’s important to us but#but no we can’t have that. make him a fucking baby. toss every interesting thing about his character into a fucking volcano#and relegate him to being a fucking prop for everybody else.#I don’t know how else to tell you this but you are literally infantilizing an autistic person. you are being ableist. intentionally or not.#and the way you all seem to just. idk. double down on your own ableism? or excuse it?#or literally ignore autistic ppl who try to point out how ableist and weird your behavior towards an autistic character is?#it’s a lot of things. it’s so many terrible things and terrible feelings. but above all it’s disheartening.#it hurts to know that even in this space where everyone is family and everyone belongs. I’m still on the outside looking in.#I’m still not /really/ a part of everything else. it’s a horrible feeling and I don’t wish anyone to ever go through with it#but maybe you fucking should. maybe then you’d realize what you’re doing. or maybe you won’t. maybe I’m screaming into the void again.#which I literally always am w this topic anyways. nothing but screaming into a vast empty void that’s supposed to be my big special family#but whatever I guess.#spn#supernatural#spn fandom#spn family#spn famdom#jack kline#autistic jack kline#tfw2.0#destiel#sam and dean#castiel
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har-rison-s · 9 months
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whatever you need | coryo snow x fem!reader
a/n: don't mind me, just eating pomelo and writing smut. i daydream about this piece every and all work day i have rn, it's pretty unhinged bcs i'm working as a gift wrapper for the holiday season and just staring ahead thinking of.... things. i'm technically an atheist, but i would need forgiveness for those thoughts. ANYWAY JEEZ. this took me like four days, help. i'm so insecure abt my smut writing, tho so ooohhh god am i actually dreading posting this. i'll just publish and run away from tumblr for a week. happy reading
talk to me about coryo here
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word count: 7.2k (sawrry)
themes: smut
warnings / disclaimers: smut, unprotected p in v, brief mutual masturbation, cum eating (SCREAMING), fingering, crying, ENJOY jsdfjhsadsd
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gif credit goes to owner <3
something strange was happening in the arena. something was being done to the camera feeds that were supposed to livestream every second of what was happening in it. only because something seemed to have gone wrong in the games y/n was stuck to the television screen in her living room slash lounge. her parents were called into urgent work in district three a few hours ago, so it was only her and some of the maids in the house. they kept to themselves, though, and were probably asleep in their quarters at the mansion’s far-end wing. except for the main housekeeper, who was adamantly guarding the entrance of the house, in case anyone came by.
her parents were counting on someone coming by - with the way she was recently behaving at school and with the rebel bombs, they were real worried about her well-being. she was always alone at home, because there was no one to bring home. except the dean, but he came by himself and only to serve his usual scolding and threats about y/n’s rebellious nature and behaviour at school. her parents hadn’t felt such worry for their daughter as they felt now since the war days. 
what soothed her mother’s worried heart and mind was the presence of the maids and the housekeeper. y/n appreciated their staying around and liked hearing noises made by someone else in the mansion, even if it was only a far-away creak of floorboards or a door closing. but she didn’t need anything from them, ever, she’d been very independent since her early childhood, and maids seemed like such an excess right now, an even backwards concept for y/n. her family employing them, unable to live without them, made her feel like the rich princess everyone deemed her being. 
y/n had felt fine being home alone until the feed from the arena turned strange. darker, blacker, and the audio seemed warped or otherwise manipulated. she’d caught sight of a familiar figure entering the arena – who was that? how did he get inside? who can tell... – and then the feed changed. there was nothing much she could see, but her eyes had been glued to the screen of her television for the past half hour, anyway. all the while she was straining her eyes to try to see who it was, and at some point that figure was joined by another by Sejanus’ tribute Marcus’ bruised and wounded body, and then the feed darkened nearly completely. 
she sat in her sofa in an embryo pose, blanket over her stressed form, covering her back and the bare feet and legs that the knitted bedtime jumper couldn’t. she realized the gamemakers or the Capitol were trying to hide something, nothing else could explain the feed changing and audio going wobbly and earning static in the process. 
the bell ringing at the front door startled her so bad that y/n gasped and jerked in her position on the sofa. her head whipped in its direction and she watched two figures entering her family’s mansion from the far end of the hallway. she could already tell who the two were, but she remained sat on the sofa, her legs unmoving out of anxiety. she shut off the television and just watched them walk towards her through the unlit hallway, arms wrapping around her knees underneath her beloved blanket.
“ms y/l/n, a mister Snow is here, for you,” the housekeeper announced as she and Coriolanus entered the living room, Coriolanus stumbling into the room more than walking into it. he looked like he was falling to pieces. his breath was heavy, hair and academy uniform in disarray, face just... bewildered. y/n nodded at her housekeeper, extended her arms towards Coryo like a child reaching for its favourite toy and sniffled quietly.
“thank you, Nora,” she told the housekeeper, “please leave us. you can go to bed, i won’t need anything else for the night.” she said in a hushed voice and the housekeeper nodded, knowing to listen to the child of her employers. y/n hated giving anyone orders, much less this spectacular lady, but she did want to be alone with Coryo. and by the look of him, she could tell he couldn’t be around anyone else but her. he was a man of privacy, after all.
as soon as Nora shut the door behind her and left for the maids’ quarters, Coryo accepted the plea in y/n’s extended arms and stumbled over to her on the sofa. “i—i’m sorry,” he said the first words out of breath, in a voice so broken and frail that y/n’s lips twitched downwards and she felt the need to cry, “i didn’t know where else to go, i couldn’t... i couldn’t f-face anyone else...” as he sat down before y/n’s bare feet peeking out from the blanket, she noticed in the poor lighting of the room that his clothes were dirty. there were cuts in his shirt, dirt, gravel, sand... blood. 
“what happened?” her voice wouldn’t go any louder than a whisper, and her lips were turning into a pout as she looked Coryo over, her meek hands reaching out for him but unsure whether she should touch him or not. he could fall apart like the frailest glass, it seemed, if anything touched him right now. his face was bruised. there were small cuts on his cheek, blood on his chin. she noticed how they had already been taken care of.
Coryo still took heavy breaths, but finally he felt like his vision was real and not fooling him, and he took in his surroundings. the dim lighting in the posh room, y/n’s bare feet touching his red academy pant leg, her legs pulled up to her chest under a cute throw-blanket in the pastel colour of chocolate milk, her small hands reaching out to him, unsure, unsteady. he lifted his head to look at her, and the expression on her face made his heart lurch in his chest. her glassy eyes – no doubt matching his –, the pout on her lips, her rosy cheeks, eyebrows scrunched in worry and confusion. he could never decline that face. “dr Gaul sent me inside the arena to get Sejanus out,” he finally said, and he spoke in a whisper tone that could only be meant for secrets, “but the tributes heard us... i’m not sure i should even be telling you about this at all,” he admitted.
y/n shook her head. “your secret’s safe with me,” she assured with a gentle nod.
“yes, but dr Gaul—” Coryo began, but she interrupted him in the voice of a faint whisper. 
“i know how terrifying she is,” y/n persisted, “she won’t know that i know.” she said even quieter and looked, really looked, into Coryo’s eyes, and nodded gently again at him. he searched her eyes for a few seconds, weighing the risk of her knowing this, trying to decide if he should tell her more or just cut short here. but really. she’s a loose end and she knows it. it’s not like dr Gaul was in high thoughts of y/n or deemed her more valuable than any other student, and her nature played a big part in that opinion of the young girl. how would she know that y/n found out about this night in the arena? she wouldn’t. it would never come up in conversation. y/n wasn’t part of this.
“the tributes heard us,” Coryo started to say as he sat closer to y/n, his body turned to face her, and almost loomed over her. he’s always been much taller than her, and sometimes that played a part in their dynamic. he took her hands in his above her bent knees and the blanket. he licked his lips and y/n searched his eyes, his... stoic blue eyes. there was a change in them, “they came after us and i...” he shook his head, “i didn’t want to hurt him,” Coryo’s voice broke and his head dropped onto y/n’s covered knees. 
she heard a sob from him, and it shook her entire form, making her gasp quietly. she’d never seen him cry before. the night on the rooftop, in the garden, she knew he was close to it, but she knew he’d never let his pride down so much that he’d let anyone see him cry. and Coryo didn’t feel so good about crying now, about opening himself up to her like this, he felt disgusted with himself. but he also couldn’t stop. and he couldn’t hide everything from her, after all. 
y/n shuffled around until her legs were tucked under herself and she moved closer to Coryo, taking his scarred cheeks between her small hands and lifting his face up so he would see her. she knew she made him nervous usually, but she calculated that that effect flipped around on itself when he was in this state, or one similar to this. breaking apart. feeling vulnerable. beaten down. she looked into his eyes and he back into hers, not really having any other choice. she had this compelling power over him, even if he didn’t want to admit it, and he didn’t want to hide from her. not really.
his breathing slowed down as he just looked into her wondering beautiful orbs, full of so much determination, courage and kindness. she was almost smiling at him, even though she wanted to cry, too, and her eyes were glassy with produced tears, but she wanted to appear strong for him. because right now he really needed a strong anchor to hold onto, he was the one in need of support. y/n took that role mainly in their friendship-relationship, especially at school, when she got herself in trouble, or at home, when her parents were giving her an earful about her irresponsibility and all the jazz they usually gave her an earful about.
last time Coryo and y/n saw each other, she realized he had the ability to ground her. and now she realized she had the ability to ground him, because by looking into his eyes she could see his emotions and mood changing by the second. and all because she’s holding him, and he’s looking into her eyes. he didn’t need much more than that. 
and yet maybe he did. he didn’t know which part of him had the urge, but all of him acted on it by ducking forward and kissing her on the lips. he could taste the sweat she had made on her lips out of stress, and the blueberry tartlet she must have had as a late snack not too long ago. and his hands couldn’t keep away anymore, either, they were taking hold of her face like hers was holding his cheeks between them. y/n would have gasped at his sudden action if she had any air to breathe, and she sighed heavily when he did give her a split second of air after fiery kisses to her delicious lips. 
he kept his eyes on her as he pulled his academy blazer off and threw it to the ground beside the couch, then came back closer to her, one hand on her cheek and the other pulling the adorable blanket off her legs. y/n placed a palm on that hand of his, which made Coryo furrow his eyebrows and look at her with puzzled eyes. didn’t she want this, too? she gulped, eyes averted from his shyly. “i’d rather we talked about it, Coryo,” she admitted and looked back at him carefully, eyes so un-knowing and yet more clever than most people’s. Coryo tilted his head slightly at her words. 
his hands took the bull by its horns, pulling the blanket fully away and welcoming the night air of the mansion upon y/n’s bare legs, making her gasp again. Coryo used the moment of surprise to his advantage and pushed her down on the sofa, sneaking in between her legs like the slippery mastermind he was, and he slid a hand under her knitted jumper, raising goose-bumps in his wake across her stomach and waist. y/n hated that she felt aroused, meaning she felt exactly how he wanted her to, was right where he wanted her, but she couldn’t exactly pull away. she hated being at someone’s mercy, but.... it was Coryo.
she surprised him when he found she wasn’t wearing a bra under her jumper, nothing was standing between his greedy hands and her naked breasts now, though her not wearing a bra at home wasn’t exactly a surprise. it’s just that his inexperienced self was shocked to find a part of her naked, and right there, at his disposal. watching her face, he placed his palm over one of her breasts and ran his thumb over her nipple, which hardened immediately under his touch. and her face, oh, the expression on it was to die for. eyes softly shut, eyebrows gently spasming as she was feeling something very new to her, her teeth biting her lower lip, cheeks turning more red and no doubt burning up. Coryo placed a kiss on her bare stomach, just above the elastic of her underwear, and watched her still as she whimpered for the first time. her thighs fidgeted around him, feet unsurely digging into the soft cushions of her couch—she really didn’t know what to do with herself and these sensations she was experiencing. 
“i’d rather we didn’t,” he said to her finally, though his actions were more than enough of a response to what she said, but she hardly heard him now. there was a gentle static in her ears, and heat all over her writhing form. her pure, supple, untouched form. all for him to touch, to explore. Coryo took his shirt off in a hurry, as if y/n might disappear if he had his hands off her for a second longer, and returned to her half-naked body a hungrier man. hands raking the insides of her thighs, he kissed her again, hot lips making their conversation just moments ago seem like the far past, making her almost forget it happened. y/n could hardly feel her legs, though she knew this was just the beginning, and she wrapped her arms around Coryo’s frame and held onto him as he moved his slender torso against her chest. she could feel the bones of his hips jutting against her own, his growing crotch pressing against her panty-covered soaking cunt, teasing her, making her pant heavily and whimper like a kitten. 
having her like this satiated the hunger that rose from the deep hole he’d created inside himself, gnawing at him like a big black hole with eager, starving claws. every stroke of his hips against hers beat the monster down but dangled the bait in front of it at the same time, leaving him in quite the paradox. this was more than enough, yet Coryo knew he could go further with y/n, further than enough, and that she’d let him. everything in him wanted to, and he couldn’t stop himself. adrenaline was pumping blood from his heart into his veins, she was available and the only one who could help with the hole growing inside him. 
but y/n couldn’t go further without another word spoken. he was avoiding her question, he was avoiding the whole last hour of this night. “Coryo,” she whispered softly as his lips kissed at her neck, tongue sweeping over a particularly bruised-with-kisses spot on her sculpture-like skin, he was an animal let loose. and his affections almost made her forget what she wanted to ask, and she thought maybe she doesn’t really want to know. but y/n sighed, trying to clear her mind, “tell me what happened,” she plead in a quiet voice and it made Coryo raise his head and look into her eyes again. 
he framed the side of her face with only a hand, his thumb on her chin and the rest of his palm splayed across her burning cheek. he loved seeing the look of lust and confusion on her face, in her eyes most of all. the pads of his fingertips softly pushed into her skin. “no,” he remained stubborn, and y/n would have been surprised to have him do otherwise. she gulped softly, hoping he wouldn’t feel it, but no, he felt every motion any part of her made now. his mind came up with a new idea as he slid a hand of his across her stomach, making a wave across her supple body, and then he reached her underwear. he knew, like everyone else did sort of matter-of-factly, that women were to be touched there. he knew it was the spot in her with which he could get her full attention. and he also knew he’d have to fabricate having experience in this field for y/n. he didn’t want her to think him inexperienced, which he was exactly, or least of all that he’s experimenting with her—which was also what he was doing. so he improvised by cupping her warmest place in the body, and he felt an immediate reaction. her thighs fidgeted around his waist again and her stomach lurched. her eyes shut, but he wanted to see them, “open your eyes,” Coryo urged her, and y/n had to force herself to comply, her beautiful eyes looking into his again. they held eye contact as he ran his middle finger in a straight line between her clothed folds, and he watched as her face contorted, caused by the new strange and pleasant feelings. she felt like warm honey on his fingers, “right now all i need is to feel you,” he told her and did the same motion with his finger again, only this time slower, making it pleasurably agonizing for her, coaxing quiet whimpers from her lips, “and this tells me you need it, too.” 
god, she hated that he was right. at first it was want, she wanted him to stay over, to touch her, to feel her, to do things to her that no one else had ever before. now, she felt so desperate for it that she felt she could explode if she didn’t get what seemed to be promised to her. the want grew to need. she wanted to shake her head, wanted to push him off—that would really be characteristic to her. but instead she brought herself to really look into his eyes and nod in response. Coryo’s lips almost made a smile or a grin, almost, she caught the ghost of it in the corner of his lips before he kissed her again. “alright, Coryo,” she whispered against his lips, “but if you don’t touch me properly right now, i willkick you out of my home.” she said surely, admitting to her desperation without shame and in turn – with pride, and now Coryo grinned. her feistiness was one of the things he liked about her, and it coming out in this setting was more than he could have asked for. in a weird way it got him going. 
y/n placed both of her hands on the sides of his face and kept him close to her as he reached his hand into her underwear, breaching into unexplored territory. she was all the warmer for him, and soaking wet. he hummed, their lips nearly touching, but not completely. it was torture for him. he wanted to devour her lips, her whole face, her whole existence. her lips were like the food of life for him, the sounds she made music to his ears and air in his lungs. “you’re just perfect for me,” he confessed to her in a shudder and y/n smiled lightly. his fingers ran through her naked warm folds, just testing the waters, until they found the opening between them, where the wetness and warmth were seeping from. Coryo would have dropped his head onto her shoulder if her hands weren’t holding it up right, but he just felt like he lost his damn mind at how incredible her walls felt around his fingers, and he could collapse right there on top of her. 
“Coryo,” she sang his nickname in a beautiful moan when two fingers prodded inside her, beating any expectations she had about this beforehand. they were long and thick, touching every inch of her, it felt like, and reaching just far enough. she was barely holding onto him, and her body was reacting to his touches immediately. hips moving, back arching, thighs squeezing his body between them, breaths shuddering. 
“no one’s done this to you before, have they?” Coryo asked, but he hardly needed an answer. by the way she was reacting, he could tell that she’d never felt like this before. y/n shaking her head at his question was merely the last dot on the confirmation, yet it still made him more aroused. knowing he was the first one to do this to her, with her. he grazed her upper wall with his finger pads, being careful not to let his nails scrape her, and it brought a moan from her that he’d never heard anyone make. guttural, coming from the very depths of her lungs, her vocal cords, from her very core. it made him shudder. he repeated the motion, slower one time, then faster the next, all the while watching her reaction. he loved seeing her eyes shut, her cheeks become redder, her lips parting, stretching, pushing breaths and whimpers out from between them. Coryo felt one of her hands sliding up into his hair, and he groaned. her hips bucked and she grabbed onto his perfect curls between her fingers when he reached farther inside her with his two fingers, and it made them both moan into each other’s mouths, y/n letting his lips rest over hers. he’d reached that great point inside her, feeling her hot and spongy against his digits. it’s almost like she was sucking him in. “you’re so good for me,” Coryo told her and y/n whimpered at the praise. 
“more, please,” she begged with no shame and Coryo obliged, picking up the pace of his fingers and massaging over her folds with his thumb all the while. when he accidentally grazed over her clit, y/n made a high-pitched moan of the utmost sensitivity, and he knew he’d done the right thing. and by accident, no less. he was on the winning team, “Coryo,” she cried with her eyes shut and he noticed a tear on her cheek, kissing over it immediately. next his lips were on hers again, lapping at her tongue with his own like the starving man he was, knowing nothing of tomorrow or the next hour, just so engulfed in her that he knew nothing else. she was the perfect getaway.
he could feel her body behaving in a different way, thighs trembling around him, walls squeezing his hand in, hands nearly powerless, chest shuddering. she wasn’t far off her release, he guessed. with another press to the sensitive bundle of nerves that made her cry, Coryo once again watched her reaction in amazement. but he didn’t want to feel her release like this, he needed them both different. Coryo pulled his fingers away, once again making y/n cry out, this time in the most desperation she could manage, and she looked up at him with pleading, tearful eyes. he offered her a gentle smile and moved down her body, dragging her underwear with him. down her legs and away, the light pink garment went, and y/n bit her plump lip in anticipation as she watched him. 
Coryo tucked her underwear into the trousers of his academy uniform that he was still wearing and returned to her body, laying kisses across her thighs on his way up to her. y/n squirmed under and around him, mewled, muttering his name in a mewl here and there, relishing in the feeling of his lips on her untouched skin and his hands roaming all over her body, under her jumper, over it, trying to cover every inch of her. she hated that he had stopped touching her right when she was closest to that one sacred edge she wanted so badly to reach, he was teasing her, taunting her, testing her waters. it was clear to her that he had never done this to another girl before. Coryo was just like her, and yet he’d put up a different façade. 
he dug his fingers into the flesh of her naked hips, which made y/n throw her head back into the sofa cushions, baring her delicious-looking neck to Coryo. he used that to his advantage, licking and kissing at the skin of her neck which he had already bruised marked with his lips just moments ago, he was devouring her with a hunger only she could really satiate, and yet he couldn’t get enough of her. his growing crotch pressed against her bare cunt, and y/n gasped at the feeling. eyebrows scrunched, cheeks and lips red and puffy, she looked up at Coryo again, and he returned the gesture. he took one of her hands in his and guided it down to between them, where he was growing harder and in size, it seemed, watching her face all the while and taking notice of her biting down on her lower lip in anticipation. Coryo made her feel him through his trousers, and he couldn’t hide the effect her touch had on him - shuddering throughout his whole body, eyelids fluttering, he was barely able to utter the next words, but he did so in a quiet voice. “feel what you do to me?” 
y/n nodded with lustful eyes, hungry like the wolf for the boy above her. her boldness came back and with it y/n unzipped Coryo’s custom-made trousers and reached into his boxers to really feel him. he had girth and he was solid, she could feel that all with her hand on him. she was making him a panting mess, giving his length a sure stroke, Coryo’s head falling into the crook of her neck and him moaning, though she knew the piece of his pride that died for him to do that. he hardly let anyone see his inner world, his true feelings, so for him to be this vulnerable with her took a great deal of courage. “do i make you... feel like this often?” y/n asked quietly, and Coryo nodded with a whimper as her finger flicked over his tip, pink and sensitive. y/n wrapped her fingers around his shaft and stroked up and down, slowly, looking at his face all the while, wishing she could see his beautiful eyes now, see the emotions swimming around in the blue of them.
Coryo fisted the pillow right beside her, heavy breaths leaving his parted lips, “yes, yes, yes, god, yes,” he chanted in her ear as the pace of her strokes grew faster, and y/n could feel each breaths in his lungs against her own, his chest rising and hitting against her so intensely. she’d made him crumble beneath her so quickly, it surprised her, “i need you, y/n, i need to feel you,” Coryo confessed and managed the strength to raise his head and look at her again. he was too afraid to utter the phrase i need to be inside you, feeling just too shy all of a sudden to say that. the look on his face was pure desperation, he looked like he could start crying the next moment, and y/n’s heart lurched in her chest at seeing that. seeing and recognising that she could make him as desperate as he’d made her. that she could make him small, “no one’s ever made me feel like this before,” he confessed more, breaking his own façade down, and y/n smiled at him sheepishly. she knew, of course, that what he said was true. she knew everything about him.
“you have me,” she assured him and brought him out of the confine of his boxers, making Coryo breathe in relief. he had felt so restricted in his own clothes, “but god, Coryo, will you fit? you feel too big in my hand,” y/n said shyly and bit down on her lip again, a habit that Coryo had noticed her having for quite a while now, and he looked down between them two. y/n knew her comment went straight to his growing ego, but she just couldn’t resist teasing him a little. and when he caught onto it, he looked at her again, with a smile on his lips this time. she grinned wide and giggled before she took his face in her hands and kissed his lips, as if it was her first time doing so. simple, loving, affectionate. 
suddenly she fully took in the look of his naked torso, his amazingly sculpted shoulders and arms, his pearly chest... the sight of him was so breath-taking and delicious that she nearly forgot all her other surroundings. Coryo, though the look her eyes were giving him flattered him so, took the bull by its horns again and pushed the very tip of his hard length through her folds, where her warm opening welcomed him. y/n felt a strain while Coryo felt the beginning of a true release, but he noticed her awkward expression, felt her hold on his face falter, and he paused his movements to just check in. 
“alright?” he asked quietly, as he couldn’t tell what to do next by her face, “too big for you?” he teased and it made them both smile, then erupt into mad giggles in unison. y/n would never have expected Coryo to have humour in a moment like this, but she was relieved that he did, and god did it make the whole thing easier. she wasn’t worried, wasn’t anxious anymore, wasn’t feeling insecure about any aspect of herself anymore. except the thing she’d heard that happened to most women on their first time – the bleeding, the pain, his reaction to it. those were the few things she wanted to avoid happening. but if Coryo was his sweetheart-self, then she had no bad reaction to worry about. she was glad he was the person she was doing it for the first time with, she’d really lucked out.
“just a little,” she finally answered after their giggle fit while holding each other in their arms, “try going deeper,” she urged in a hushed voice, and Coryo complied, adjusting his hips forward, slowly, not to accidentally hurt her more. he couldn’t deny how incredible this felt, how incredible she felt around him, her walls sucking him right in so tightly, “ohmygodohmygod,” y/n pushed the words out in a quick breath, feeling a burn and stretch inside of her at the size of him. she didn’t have anyone to compare Coryo to, and no one else had been inside her before, but he felt big enough. 
Coryo appreciated her arm on his back, her nails digging half-moons into his pearly skin, and her other hand splayed across his cheek, thumb almost digging a hole in his cheek. “you feel so perfect around me,” Coryo praised against her parted lips, and y/n could only look at him with strain and tears in her eyes as he inched himself further and further inside, her face changing by every inch, it seemed, until he had bottomed out with a groan and she’d only felt a momentary sting of pain. and the worst part was over—what a miracle it was that it had been so quick for her, she’d expected otherwise. Coryo could see the immediate relaxation on her features, and he smiled. 
he kissed away her fallen tears, but more kept falling from her eyes and y/n could only explain them as being happy tears, though she scolded herself for being so emotional in a meaningful moment like this. but maybe it was just right. Coryo smiled at her and she could see his orbs being glossy, too, and she was glad. it was no wonder, really, taking how shaken he was when he came into her home and sat down on her couch beside her. he was still in turmoil, but that didn’t matter now. he had her. 
“can i try... moving? you feel alright?” he asked her in a whisper. this slow thrust inside her had already felt like heaven, he couldn’t wait to repeat it over and over and over. 
y/n nodded, “yeah, go ahead,” she said and Coryo complied. she took in the feeling of him pulling out gently, slowly... teasingly. he was grinning, she saw, and she shook her head in disbelief as a beautiful smile adorned her features. and then he thrust inside her again, stuffing her walls with his great length, making her back arch and moans that she’s never made before escape her lips. he could hardly concentrate, but he didn’t want to miss all the different facial expressions she would make, the look in her eyes, while he made love to her now. he made himself keep his eyes open as he began to move rhythmically now. 
y/n’s legs wrapped around his waist, engulfing him in her more and more, and each of his thrusts earned him a squeak from her from the movements. god, he just adored her beyond measure. she was everything he needed now, and later, and forever. Coryo kissed her neck, licked at it, as he had before, and it only made her moan more, each moan in its own unique high or low pitch, and dig her fingers into whichever part of his skin she was holding. Coryo adored her touches, they turned him on, and he wanted her hands on him always, they were a lifeline. his hands gripped her waist, her sweater bunched just above them, only covering her arms and her breasts, though barely even those from how much Coryo was moving her.
“you're doing so good for me,” he breathed into her ear, and the praise only spurred her on. she clenched around him, and it made Coryo break his focus completely, his head dropping onto y/n’s chest, where he breathed hot air onto her skin, “i’m sorry, i think i’m close,” he confessed, and y/n raised his face with her hands, looking at him with puzzlement across her face. 
“me too, it’s okay,” she assured him and then took one of his hands in hers and lead it down to where their bodies met. she laid his palm over the bulge that had formed in her lower stomach from him. the sight and feel of it made Coryo groan, getting him all the more closer to his release. 
“fuck, that’s amazing,” he said into her neck, and y/n nodded.
“you’re so big, Coryo,” she complimented him again and felt his dick twitch inside her at the words, “made a bump in me,” she put it into words and it made the boy nearly lose his mind. then she guided his hand just a little lower and pressed his hand onto her clit, where he recalled was her most vulnerable point, “come on, touch me. we’ll do it together,” she urged him on in the sweetest of angel voices and Coryo didn’t need to think twice before complying. he loved her ordering him around a little, it was much needed tonight especially. 
he pressed his thumb against her clit as his hips had nearly reached their fastest pace, and watched as her face twisted in pleasure. eyes shutting, lips spasming, closing, opening, teeth biting, voice singing out to him. “oh, Coryo,” she called his name and he felt it go straight to his heart. there wasn’t much more that he needed in order to come now, and he prided in himself for lasting so long at all, all the while feeling a little ashamed about it. he wanted this to last longer. but since he could tell she was coming, too, his thumb drawing harsh circles on her clit to bring it on, he revelled in them both finishing at once. 
“fuuuck, y/n, i love you,” he whimpered into her ear as he spilled himself inside her tightly-squeezing walls while y/n all but chanted his nickname like a mantra. her hands almost drew blood on his back from how tightly she held onto him, and she shuddered around him at the feeling of her own release coating his entire length. her thighs trembled and she panted heavy breaths against his neck. she’d almost missed his quiet confession, she’d actually heard it amidst their joined euphoria, but she had thought it a hallucination. 
but that assumption dissipated as she came to and looked up at Coryo, whose eyes were worriedly, with tears streaming from them, looking down at her. she quickly moved her hands to his cheeks and tried to sit up in their awkward position. best she could do was position herself higher on her pillow against the sofa’s armrest, and she gulped. “you love me?” she echoed in the smallest of voices, searching his eyes. they were worried, fearful. what if he’d said the wrong thing? what if she felt different about him, different than what he felt about her? what if he’d said it too soon? what if he’d just ruined all this with her? 
but he did love her. he was sure of it. so he nodded, his curls bouncing with the confirming movement. y/n ran her hand over them and smiled wide at him. 
“you love me,” she said again, surely this time, in a happy tone of voice. as if she’d discovered the best, most well-wishing secret in the whole world. and perhaps that’s what it was. her favourite secret about Coryo was that she knew he loved her, “i love you, too,” y/n told him before he could assume otherwise, and kissed his trembling lips. Coryo felt on top of the world. he had said the right thing, he’d played his cards right, he’d told her how he felt. of course, his actions spoke volumes, but hearing him say it in words meant the world to y/n. 
“thank god, you had me worried there for a bit,” Coryo half-joked between their kisses, and it made her laugh. she pulled back from his lips and admired the boy above her. forehead glistening from sweat in the dim lighting, curls messily falling over his beautiful face, his pearly chest rising and falling with each heavy breath he took. 
“who would i be without a little suspense, huh?” she asked and smiled at him again. she could see complete love and devotion in his eyes, two things she’d seen on his face only partly or half-meant before, and only towards herself. Coryo used the moment of silence to pull out of her and stuff himself back into his trousers. sitting against the sofa cushions to do it, he glanced at her cunt and saw it leaking with his white substance. y/n looked at him with sultry eyes and her teeth biting her lower lip, arms crossed over her chest, and she spread her legs just a little further to tease him with a wider look, “like what you see?” she asked quietly.
he just gave her eyes of total surrender, he was waving the white flag for giving up and he took a deep breath. y/n giggled as Coryo shook his head in disbelief and lowered his face down to her center, once again giving her anticipation. “you look so pretty,” he complimented and ran a finger through her folds, making her shudder as more of the snow-white liquid pooled out and coated her cunt, “pretty with me dripping out of you,” Coryo sneaked a glance up at her and saw the clear-as-day lust in her eyes. feeling that animalistic urge take over him again, he brought out his tongue and lapped up each drop coming out of her. y/n felt sensitive, sore, and Coryo was giving her a mix of both pleasure and pain as he drank at her. she had him right where she wanted him. the question was – would he stay there? 
his tongue prodded at her entrance just a tad, heightening her sensitivity, and he moaned against her folds at her shudder under him, giving her folds a kiss over once he was done. he wanted to leave most of his spill inside her, only having lapped up and gulped down what was excess. sitting up before her, between her legs, Coryo licked his lips and leaned over her form. y/n pulled him in for a kiss, and could taste something salty and something sweet all at once on his lips and tongue. it was both of them. 
“will you please stay?” y/n asked her in her small voice again, looking into Coryo’s eyes. she hoped to not find any resistance or decline, and her hopes were fulfilled. “please,” she plead more as he teased her with his silence. he nodded, and it made her smile wider than ever. he would stay over, like he promised her he would someday. it meant he didn't view her only as a secret anymore. maybe they could even go to Heavensbee hall tomorrow together, maybe hand in hand... “why did you say sorry? about being close?” she reminded him of the few moments before their euphorias. Coryo bent his head low for a moment. 
“just felt embarrassed,” he answered, “about not lasting long. i just... i just wanted this to last longer for you,” he told her and managed to look at her again. y/n made a comforting face and stroked the side of his face. she understood. 
“yeah, but it’s okay,” she assured him, “there will be other times,” she pointed out and laid a kiss to his cheek, “it was your first time, so please don’t worry your beautiful head over it.” Coryo managed a ghost of a smile just for y/n to kiss him and make his smile more life-like. “you did good, Coryo.” those words of praise went straight to his dick again, and he blushed. she had made him blush. y/n giggled. 
“you did great, too,” Coryo told her and kissed her hair, “thank you. i never would have wanted to do this with anyone else but you,” he confessed as they held tight eye contact. y/n’s heart surged at his words. 
“me too. i’m glad it was you,” she said and it made Coryo smile with shut lips, “now, can i get my underwear back?” she’d made a joke again, and Coryo felt like playing along further. 
“no, i’m keeping it,” he said in a hushed voice, shaking his head and y/n made a playful pout. she’d want to make him think he could keep it and that she’d steal it back later, but she couldn’t. Coryo having her underwear in the pocket of his academy trousers made her feel somehow proud. a piece of her with him wherever he goes. and if he went home and stashed them somewhere in his wardrobe cabinet, that would be fine, too. she loved knowing her underwear was a token for him. 
she only said, “alright,” and took his hand in hers, “let’s go shower and then to bed. you’ve exhausted me.” she admitted and Coryo took it as a compliment. he wanted this treacherous-turned-great day to end, too, and she was the cherry on top of it all. he wouldn’t have gone home tonight for anything. 
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disneyprincemuke · 9 months
Text
they ask, "do you have a man?"
alternatively: can’t be discreet to save anyone’s life
in which everyone is curious why the grid princess is still single despite instagram posts from them seem to be giving out another narrative
(series masterlist)
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logansargeant posted on their story!
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alexalbon ur never beating the dating allegations if u keep posting shit like this i fear
kidy/n omg i look so slay in that dress
logansargeant ugh you’re so right bb
lilymhe i need to know where she got this i fear 😔
logansargeant she said she will text you like a true girls girl ✊🏼
lilymhe ugh im in love with her
user1 gonna need you guys to announce you’re dating actually
user2 posting this and denying every dating allegation is actually crazy
user3 what if i jump in front of a moving train???
user4 such a boyfriend coded story from someone who’s not her boyfriend
kidy/n posted on their story!
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oscarpiastri HAVING FUN WHILE I AM IN MELBOURNE I SEE.
kidy/n is there ever a day u wake up n ur not an outright hater?
oscarpiastri no cause you guys are hanging out without so that really fuels my ability to hate
kidy/n u got ur own gf mate, spend time with her?? >:(
oscarpiastri SHE IS LITERALLY WITH YOU RN TAKING THIS PICTURE
sebastianvettel this doesn’t scream “not dating” to the rest of the world btw
kidy/n ugh nobody will know grandpa
sebastianvettel wow hater alert
georgerussell63 still not dating i presume? 🤨
kidy/n no sir
georgerussell63 i smell a big fat lie i fear
user5 IS THAT LOGAN HUNTER SARGEANT QUEEN?
user6 pls stop lying to the world and just kiss after a race 🙏🏼🙏🏼
user7 and why exactly is he nOt the one pushing u in a kart??
kidy/n
📍 home
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liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 56,984 others
kidy/n didn’t see the news cause we were somewhere else
view 30 comments…
comments on this post have been limited.
oscarpiastri having fun without me should be a crime tbh
sebastianvettel this is why u weren’t answering ur phone?? ☹️
lilyzneimer photo credits where? 😔
kidy/n omg so trueeeeee i’m sorry i forgot
charles_leclerc making the uk look fun is a magic power
maxverstappen1 i heard the uk is only fun cause y/n lives there
landonorris what’s all this slander???
logansargeant
🎵 rex orange county - best friend
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liked by oscarpiastri, kidy/n and 56,940 others
logansargeant the only problem living with your best friend is that every night is party night
view 288 comments…
kidy/n why are u telling people we’re alcoholics
oscarpiastri first you move in together, and now you’re not even inviting me to drink???
lilyzneimer cant believe i scored an invitation and u didnt
oscarpiastri wtf
kidy/n lol tough life oscar
user8 wow i thought they lived with oscar ngl
oscarpiastri ugh i wish
user9 why would he? he’s got a girlfriend
user10 really not dating?
sebastianvettel not sure how to feel about this
user11 them actually not being romantically involved is my roman empire
user12 in one universe, they’ve GOT to be dating
user13 it HAS TO BE THIS UNIVERSE PLEASE PLEASE PL
kidy/n so based
user13 wait i
formula1 drink safely pls 😀 (i’m begging for an invite)
logansargeant only if u pay for the alcohol
williamsracing not very family friendly of u ngl
kidy/n im sorry williams i tried to stop him ☹️
williamsracing its only ok bc its u
logansargeant ?
kidy/n posted on their story!
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logansargeant wowwww look at you go bb!! so pretty!!!
kidy/n ehheheheehhe
oscarpiastri wow busy girl
sebastianvettel and kristen approved of this!!?!?
kidy/n WDYM SHE GOT ME THE ON THE PODCAST
sebastianvettel oh ok. youre just kinda wild lately idk
kidy/n whats that supposed to mean
sebastianvettel 🤷🏼‍♀️
maxverstappen1 the uggs are a no from me
kidy/n ok red bull merch lover
“thank you so much for being on the show,” hannah smiles into the mic. “i’m shocked to even receive the email from your pr manager, actually.”
“no, yeah,” she grins, nails pressed against her lips, biting down on the bottom. she’s never actually been on a podcast before. “we were talking about making an appearance somewhere, but i’m kinda - very - intimidated by men. i chose this podcast specifically.”
“oh, you know of our existence,” emma gushes, giggling slightly. “we feel so honoured. thank you so much.”
“honestly, i’m always around men,” she laughs, scrunching her nose. “i live with a man. so being around women is always a very nice change.”
“right, you recently moved in with logan sargeant in the uk,” hannah points out. “if you don’t mind me asking, how did that decision come about? because you’re really good friends with oscar piastri as well, how come he doesn’t live with you guys?”
“oh, that’s an interesting point,” emma frowns. “i never thought of that.”
“yeah, so growing up oscar and logan actually stayed with my family on and off just because they’ve got brothers and sisters that their parents would have to attend to back home,” she recalls out loud, remembering the sleepovers they’ve spend in the living room with her siblings. “i think when i was… like 15, oscar was 16, and logan was 17, obviously.
i think my sister and i had a really bad fight that turned the house upside down. i mentioned that i couldn’t wait to move out and never speak to her again — i was very overdramatic as a teen. and they were like ‘yeah, that’s a good idea! we should get a place!’”
“oh, so you didn’t even propose the idea of living together?”
“exactly! they just love inviting themselves to be a part of my life. they’ve got cars while i don’t, so that’s a big plus,” she laughs. “then, well, oscar met lily when he was 18 and they got an apartment together after oscar landed reserve driver for alpine. which then left logan and i to kinda figure things out. then, we both landed a contract to race in the 2023 season and both our racing headquarters are in uk, luckily. so we made the decision to move in together earlier this year.”
“so oscar bailed!”
“that’s okay,” she scoffs, waving off the host’s concern. “we live pretty close by, so lily and oscar are always at our place anyway.”
“so, i totally don’t wanna get into it. but like, girl to girl,” hannah grins giddily. “and i promise we’ll get into the racing stuff in a bit, but i’m just curious.”
“it’s okay because i like you guys,” she jokes. “ask away.”
“there’s a lot of speculation that you and logan seem to be too close to just be best friends,” hannah explains. “and it’s seemed to be a trend since you were in f2 together, so i just wanna ask you if… well…”
she smiles. this isn’t exactly the first time she’s heard that. while they preferred to keep their relationship under wraps for several reasons, her and logan aren’t very discreet either.
there are pictures on the internet, after races where they head to weigh-in together with logan holding her things, laughing as they walk, which is normal. but there are also a couple of pictures where they were caught with logan’s hand on her cheek, or of them walking in the paddocks with her hands wrapped around his arm.
she’s not shocked that people talk about their relationship, but more shocked that everyone seems to shrug it off as them being really good friends.
“we’re actually not romantically involved at all,” she lies, though her cheeks flush up at the thought of her boyfriend. “i think we met really early on in life so we’re super comfortable with each other.”
“so, you’re setting the record straight. you don’t have a man.”
she nods firmly. “i don’t have a man. not planning to get one — i’ve just been really busy with my career. if anything, logan is my stand-in date for every event.”
“that’s true friendship if i’ve ever seen one.”
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forever--darling · 2 years
Text
na’viyä hapxì — one of the people | neteyam x avatar!reader
summary: you have your ceremony to become apart of the clan after finally telling kiri everything that's been going on. neteyam is forced to deal with his feelings as he realizes he might be losing you to someone else.
pairings: neteyam x avatar!reader
word count: 11.9k (I have no self-control at this point. seriously I still have a part or two left to write)
warnings/notes: i am so sorry, slow burn continues, swearing, major angst, fighting, mention of blood, mention of sky people, forest destruction, confrontation of feelings, a smidge of fluff but not much, one step closer to the end
series masterlist | one of us: part five | requests are currently open for now
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This was supposed to be the start of your new life but all you could think about at that second was how Lo’ak was gripping your face and saying all of the things that somehow left the opposite feeling in your stomach than it should have. Maybe because it was Lo’ak saying it or maybe it was the fact that he was admitting that he would settle for you. It made you cringe, the wording, the confession that he would rather settle for you than anyone else. It made you want to completely claw at the insides of your brain, hoping that if desperate enough and boiling with an unmistakable rage, you could rip the memory free from your mind.
No one should ever want to settle for anyone and it left you trying to swallow the knot inside your throat. Even if it had come from a good place with the intention to give two lonely people the possibility of a future, the delivery was cruel. To top it off, you were late, the sun had completely set over the mountain, leaving the sky in total darkness. The freckles upon Lo’ak’s nose and forehead were glowing, taking your attention, appearing similar to the stars above as his once sun-kissed eyes lazily trace your face.
That’s all you could think about as your Ikran landed in the base of the village, his landing next to yours a second later. His eyes were too much like his brother's and it was grueling. If you focused on them long enough, it was like it was Neteyam there instead of Lo'ak. But then you were reminded of the look in them, something unmatched and desolate. There was a certain glint within his olive-green irises that was missing as if when he stared down at you there was an emptiness deep within the confines and walls of his chest.
As soon as your feet landed on the ground, you were desperate to escape, an appalling pull in your stomach as you took off towards the center of the village. You felt the pounding in your head ultimately increase as all air was pulled from your lungs at the sight of the village. So many people. The whole clan in fact gathered, waiting. Waiting for you. Deep breath in. Then out.
It was nauseating how many people were there and almost annoying how close you could feel Lo'ak walking behind you. As if his presence was trying to remind you of his words all over again. His words felt like they were squeezing your heart in its palm sickeningly watching as the organ withered in its grip.
Approaching the large old tree that hovered over the village almost like Home Tree once did, your steps faltered as you found Kiri standing outside, her arms crossed over her chest and toe-tapping against the dirt. Your steps increased, desperation forming for her to see her brother lurching on your back and your sanity and remove him instantly.
When her eyes met yours, she was pushing herself up off the side of the tree and hurried towards you in slight disbelief but then when she found Lo’ak behind you, she could only roll her eyes, “Why am I not surprised?”
“Hi, Kiri,” Lo’ak replied sweetly, waving his hand with a chester-like grin on his face.
“Oh shut it, I should have known she wouldn’t have been late to her own ceremony unless someone else was involved,” she shot daggers at her brother and wondered how much it would take for him to collapse overcome by his sister's indisputable irritation.
Kiri's hand tightly took a hold of your arm beginning to lead you into the hollowed-out tree, the fragrance of oak and amber brought a tickle to the base of your nose, “And you, we have to start getting you ready.” 
“Oh relax, we made it didn’t we?"
Lo'ak's tone sliced through the air and you felt the disbelief warp around your insides and tighten. They felt as if they were boiling, hot from his obliviousness to the situation. Because even if he was trying to do something sweet, his reasoning behind it all was so wrong. You decided to ignore him and his sister seemed to do the same as she began to fiddle with the ends of your hair. His stare was just as empty as it had been the hour before
You looked away, instead hoping to find solace or an ounce of reassurance in your surroundings, within the tree filled with candles, tapestries, beads, everything that could be certified as sacred. You had never been inside before and you found yourself admiring it rather than his blank stare.
Hearing the way his mouth parted like a gaping fish in water, you felt your shoulders stiffen. Out of fear that he was about to spill the soul-wrenching words you had yet to even process yourself. The last thing you could deal with was him spouting them out proudly like an idiot to someone else as if he had already claimed you.
Luckily, before he could say anything or reveal the sour secrets of your life, his voice shrunk back into his throat and his ears flattened softly at something else entirely. A chuckle verberated from your lips as you peered over to find the exact cause of Lo'ak's silence.
His father. Jake Sully stood near the doorway, his hands balanced on his hips, dressed as if displaying power was his only goal on this planet. A look filled his eye that you had come to know extremely well as if he was forcefully trying to draw everyone's attention and completely intimidate his youngest son.
“Hey Dad,” Lo’ak waved timidly, gulping as Jake approached him and firmly took a hold of his shoulder.
“Outside, now,” Jake commanded, voice cutting through the room, leaving a silence that was deafening. He couldn't look away from Lo'ak with an undermined idea that the teenager would have vanished from his sight if he did. Not sparing anyone a glance, he dragged Lo'ak out of the room.
Kiri acting as if it hadn't happened began to undo the braids in your hair. With the two of you left alone, you had a feeling her silence was only temporary. With her fingers loosening around the third one, you felt her grip disappear. You sighed, somehow guilt of your own crawling up out of your throat even though you weren’t entirely sure what you were guilty of.
The possibilities could have been endless at that point. Guilt had formed because of too many far-fetched reasons that were tightly wound up in your head. Could it have appeared, because you were spending more time with your best friend's brothers rather than giving her a second of your time? Or was it because of the unmistakable fear of the reality outside of your Pandora bubble — the ignored sickness of your human body? Or worst of all could this guilt eating away at you be from the less-than-innocent desire that had taken over you for her older brother — the one man you knew you could never have?
“Kiri, whatever it is just ask?” you said suddenly, taking in a deep breath, “Please.” 
She continued with your hair but this time let her thoughts fall freely off her tongue, “What was that all about? Showing up late to your own ceremony? And with Lo’ak. Really?” 
You sighed, the frustration was evident in your voice, and somehow you found yourself nervous to tell her of the conversation that you had had with him, “It was nothing out of the ordinary.” 
“So, he was just trying to flirt with you. That’s all it was?” she asked, cautiously, her fingers carding through your hair gently unable to look away from the way your thumbs were fiddling with one another in your lap, “I thought you were immune to his advances. You haven’t fallen for it have you?” 
Your answer was without hesitation, “Of course not.” 
“Then what is going on?” Kiri’s hands suddenly dropped from your hair and turned you around to face her. It was as if she could hear through Eywa that something was plaguing your heart. Like something had been affecting you for a while and she just hadn’t seen any of the signs. “Look, I know my brothers have been occupying all of your time lately, but that doesn’t mean I still don’t care about you. And if something is bothering you, I want to be able to help.”
Taking in a deep breath, you exhaled, gold eyes suddenly meeting hers with a certain unsureness laced within yours. Your hands were almost shaking as every anxiety you thought you had shoved far away seemed to resurface.
She suddenly took both of your hands in hers, eyes wide and lips curled softly into a small smile, her expression reflecting comfort back at you, “Y/N, just tell me.”
“Tonight,” your voice cracked and you cleared your throat as everything came racing back to you, “After we had been flying, we stopped on this mountain and… Lo’ak, he asked me if I wanted to be his mate.” 
Her mouth parted in shock, a small noise of disapproval seemed to fall from them as her eyes widened even further, “He what?” 
“He asked me to—” 
“Yes, I heard you the first time,” she cut you off, her mouth closing and then dropping open again, “But he is too young to even be…”
As her voice trailed off, you nodded agreeing with her words. Lo’ak was only seventeen and Neytiri and Jake had made it perfectly clear to their children that they advised them to wait until they were eighteen before making plans. Wait until they decided on a mate, plus in Lo’ak’s case, he wasn’t sure if the decision was even his. If Neteyam didn’t have the choice, why would he? Sure, for his older brother Olo’eyktan was at stake but their parents’ decision was safer in their eyes than letting their young adult sons make the choice for themselves. He had automatically assumed that if Neteyam wouldn’t have the option neither would he. 
“And tonight he asked you to…” 
All breath left her again and her shock was smacked across her face displaying perfectly how you had felt too when it had happened. You nodded again, “Yes.” 
“But wait,” she squeezed your hands, “He knows better. We all know that our mother has clearly stated that it isn’t allowed, at least not while you are still a dream walker. Why would he even… Y/N?” 
You watched slowly as the confusion had overtaken her face and just as quickly left as she spoke out loud, trying to wrap her head around this occurrence. Within a matter of seconds, she realized that Lo’ak would not have openly asked you this unless there was a way this would be allowed. She knew her brother and despite him having broken many rules in the past, she also knew that for something this serious he would be more considerate. In fact something as serious as mates, he would not decide rationally. 
“What would lead Lo’ak to ask this?” 
“Maybe the fact that,” your voice was unsteady, pausing just as the truth was tiptoeing across your tongue, “He knew I went and visited Mo’at. And that I asked her about the consciousness transfer.” 
“You did what?” her voice had hardened, turning cold as her hands had seemed to slip out of yours possibly out of shock, disappointment, or both. The exact reaction you were expecting. “Y/N!”
She shook her head, the fear of one of two outcomes appearing in her mind. You do the ritual and somehow pass through Eywa's eyes and be reborn or you do the ritual and have your presence accepted to be with The Great Mother forever. It was the latter that filled Kiri with the worst possible fear. However, this wasn't the first time this situation had crossed her mind — you admitting that you wanted to do the consciousness transfer to become one of them.
It was a possibility that had been living in her mind far longer than anyone could realize. Since the moment she had first seen you in your avatar body. It was the glimmer in your eye, this type of glow that seemed to surround you that none of them had ever seen before. It was there that very first night; in your smile, your clumsy steps, eyes constantly searching to absorb every part of the forest you saw. As you spent more time in the forest, in the village, with her people, with Neteyam, Kiri realized that the glow around your head only seemed to increase. She was afraid that this could happen, but she never thought it would. Almost as if she relied on your intelligence and common sense to distract you from the alluring double life you were currently living. 
“What were you thinking?” Kiri found her voice, and the betrayal and pain heard in it seemed to crack not only your spirits but a part of your soul, “Y/N, you know how dangerous the transfer is and how rarely it even is successful. Eywa is very careful when it comes to requests and she is far more complex than you realize.” 
“I know Kiri,” you admitted, bowing your head as if you were a child being scolded.
“Really? Because I think if you truly understood that. If Neteyam had made any of it perfectly clear to you, or if you had listened to anything we’ve been telling you for the last seven years you wouldn’t have put in that request to Mo’at.”
“No, Kiri, you don’t understand. It didn’t matter what you or anyone else said to me, I still would have gone to Mo’at and requested the transfer ritual.” 
“Why?” her brows knitted together, the word sounded so spiteful on her tongue and it was foreign in her own ears. 
She had never talked this way to anyone, let alone you, her best friend all throughout childhood. Somehow though she knew kindness was sometimes for the weak of heart and her feelings in that moment were completely justified. Led by the thought of possibly losing you had activated every nerve in her body to act out in a fight or flight response and with that came anger and the need to be vitriolic to you. 
You sighed, taking a step back from her as your own arms found a place wrapped around your waist, a conditioned action from your childhood that had transferred even into your avatar body. You felt the tears begin to cloud your eyes, and you silently cursed yourself for letting this get to you during a time that was supposed to be celebratory. 
Finally, meeting her eyes again, you broke down your walls and let the feelings you had been trying to make sense of for far too long go, “I can’t go on like this forever. Can’t you see? How one of these days when either the technology fails or our resources finally diminish themselves, I won’t be able to keep doing this. My life will alter completely.” 
As you paused, behind your eyes it was like you had bonded back to your human body. A pale body being pumped full of liquid solutions with dullness to its eyes. All you could feel was weakness — the only thing that was left within it. “Not to mention the stress from the link pod would become too much for my body. I would have to give up one, and I prefer that it wouldn’t be this one.” 
Her hands reached out and took a hold of your elbows, reasoning the only thing she could think to do to calm you down or to better change your mind. She smiled softly but it was laced with a kind of grief you hadn’t seen before. “Y/N, when and if that day comes, we can get you readjusted. We can teach you the ways to handle the forest in your human body and get enough oxygen supply for you. Spider can help—” 
“I don’t want Spider’s help,” you snapped, fangs barring for a moment before you recoiled into yourself all emotions dropping from your face, “You don’t get it, Kiri. What I have outside of this village, outside of this body is not a life. I sit around day after day looking out of a glass box at a world that is right in front of me. A world I will never be able to have, not like this, not like I have now. That isn’t living and I am running out of time.  Please, try to understand. There isn’t enough time to try and make up for it with my human body.” 
“Y/N,” Kiri’s grip on your elbows tightened, her eyes dancing across your face trying to decipher the meaning of your words as all that she could hear ringing in her ears was that you didn’t have the time. 
Before she could spend too long on it though, you were speaking again with a deflated look appearing on your face, “But you don’t have to worry because clearly, Eywa does not see me as one that is worthy. Mo’at turned down the request. And you won’t have to worry about me and Lo’ak either because you and I both know I could never go through with it.” 
Though relief flooded her system, the brokenness of your expression brought out other feelings in her. Mostly of sadness as she watched how quickly that glow you had was diminishing into nothing but a dull perspective on life. That rare magic that seemed to fill you, that most people couldn’t even acknowledge as being real or possible, was slowly being ripped out of you. 
She took a deep breath, feeling your disappointment reverberating off of your very being. Somehow as she processed your words, she couldn’t help but think that it wasn't entirely true. Eywa’s heart beats loudly in her ears and often it’s like her soul can hear the Great Mother’s voice. Kiri had quickly learned what it meant for Eywa to not accept something or to not agree with something — it didn’t feel like this.
“You could never go through with it because of the request being denied?” Kiri finally asked, deterring the conversation to Lo’ak and what he had asked you. The very thing he should have never asked you in the first place.
As she asked it though, you became silent, your hands gaining your attention rather quickly. Within that moment, where you stared down at your ten fingers that matched the two Sully children's, you realized that even if the transfer request had been accepted by Eywa and approved by Mo’at, that wasn’t why you couldn’t go through it. Even if you became fully Na’vi, you knew fully in your heart that you couldn’t accept Lo’ak’s offer to settle. It was never about the transfer ritual at all, but rather about someone. 
“Or you could never go through with it because of Neteyam?” Kiri asked, and your eyes flickered up as if she had read your mind or, better, your silence. 
Brows furrowing together in confusion, your eyes widened slightly in surprise, “How did you—” 
“You really think no one has noticed, Y/N?” she smiled, a small laugh escaping as her hand reached up to brush the braids in your face, which she still had to undo, behind your ear, “It’s like the whole world has tilted on its axis and you act as if it hasn’t. It’s all there in front of us; the stolen glances, how his previous frustration has changed into protectiveness, him sneaking out every night to see you even when he spent most of the day with you, the light touches here and there that happen so quick like a blink of an eye, the way you look at him. I can keep going, there’s plenty more.” 
Your head tilted down, face flushing completely to a dark hue and it was all the confirmation she needed. Meeting her soft smile, you reached up to take her hand in yours, remorse the only way to describe you, “I didn’t mean for it to happen.” 
“Of course not,” Kiri chuckled, her hand squeezing yours, “No one ever does. It’s cute though, you and Neteyam.” 
You shook your head then denying her words, her acknowledgment of your feelings, “No.” 
“What do you mean, no?” 
She watched as the glow seemed to dull even further as your broken expression met hers, voice soft as you spoke, “There can never be a me and Neteyam. You know that, Kiri. He is the future Olo’eyktan and there is a plan for his life. One where his mate will be chosen for him. It’s a life that I can’t be a part of.” 
Her expression dropped, a smile falling from her lips as her hand cradled your face softly fully preparing herself to wipe the tears from your face. Her mouth parted as if she was about to say something, comfort you maybe, deny your claim, or worse accept that it was the truth and what would inevitably happen. You would never know though as her eyes flickered up behind you, something catching her eye. Her hands fell from your frame and her soft smile returned. 
Confused, you watched as she nodded in the direction behind you, your name falling off her tongue as if it was a sweet melody, “Y/N.” 
Cautiously, you turned around, worried that someone had somehow and someway heard what you had said, all of it including the confession about the future Olo’eyktan. You felt your anxiety slip away into the night as you found the man himself entering the tree, his eyes only set on you.
Then a new kind of anxiety formed, and your heart rate sped up, as you took him in. He was already dressed for the ceremony with the most extravagant necklaces, arm bands, and clothing just as his father had been. Hair freshly braided, it swung from side to side as he stalked forward, a look in his eye you couldn’t entirely unravel. He was slightly out of breath as if he had been running, a thin layer of sweat gathering across his shoulders and the side of his face. 
Kiri took a small step back as Neteyam stopped in front of you, his hands instantly reaching out to take your arms. His palms were rough against your skin as he began to scan you from head to head, a tight frown stitched onto his face paired with his eyebrows knitted together.
His gold eyes could even be described as scary and you wondered if you had gotten a sliver of the past. If the old Neteyam was standing in front of you and was about to lecture you for being late to your own ceremony. Instead, when his golden gaze found yours again, they softened for a millisecond and the look was gone again just as quickly.
“I am going to kill him,” Neteyam growled under his breath, voice deep enough to reach inside of you and hollow out your entire body of any other feelings that once resided there. Suddenly, all you could think about was him and the way he was holding you.
An arm's length away, he continued to scan your body for any markings or injuries that hadn’t been there before. You realized then that this look on his face, this intensity and anger wasn’t towards you for being late, but towards his younger brother, who was supposed to be responsible for you. Lo’ak was the reason behind this reaction and clearly, the sight of his younger brother being scolded by his father near their tent had sent him into a rage. “Are you okay?”
Your insides fluttered at the way his tone had shifted completely in a matter of seconds. This was a side of him you felt you had never seen before, and it was like that paired with the way you were staring up at him like a lovesick puppy had been enough to prove to Kiri that everything she had said was completely true. 
“Yes, I am fine.” 
Your words had broken his spell and his stare hardened again, his anger towards his brother returning full-fledge, “How could he be so stupid? He knew what time the ceremony was and he kept you out there until dark anyway. It was completely selfish. And if something happened…” 
His voice had trailed off as if he couldn’t even think about it, let alone say it. He was playing a dangerous game with your heart, evident in the way the strings seemed to be getting pulled with everything he did or say. You reached out, your hands connecting with his chest, and he felt all air get pushed out from the sudden contraction of his diaphragm due to the warm touch.
“Neteyam, I am fine, okay? And Lo'ak didn't mean any harm by it.” 
“Yeah, just having fun right? Uh, I shouldn’t have let him go. It should have been me up there with you. I know better than letting him go off without someone who is responsible. It’s like he doesn’t have a conscious when he flies and he's seventeen for fucks sake."
“Stop. Okay, this is not your fault, Lo’ak is his own person who makes his own decisions. There is nothing to even stress about because we’re fine. We are both fine,” you said, thinking carefully about your next words, “You know how it is. You get up there, and suddenly you’re flying for hours—” 
“And never want to come down, I know,” he finished your thought. 
“You know, you can be too hard on him sometimes,” you said, and at your words, you felt him pull back, not only from you defending Lo'ak but at the way you had sounded so much like his mother talking to his father.
He couldn't respond but instead, let his worry fade slightly. However, you watched as the previous panicked look still remained in his eyes and you realized then that this was more than just a reaction to you being out later than expected. There was more to his response and anger towards his younger brother than just making him late for your ceremony. The way he was still gripping you in his hands was all the confirmation you needed.
“What is it?” 
His ears perked up at your question, watching as your hands fell from his chest. The concern soon filled your eyes too. Cautiously, you asked again, “What’s going on?” 
He then glanced around you at his sister, who was staring at him expectantly. Kiri stepped forward and raised a brow in his direction, “Neteyam?” 
With your head tilted up at him, you pushed every flutter, every thrilling feeling he stirred in you away. That's how scared you got when you looked at the expression on his face and the paling of his skin. You watched as his expression set in and let his guard down — that facade of being the perfect little soldier disappeared and all you had staring back at you was a worried young man.
Before he could respond, footsteps caught all of your attention. Neytiri appeared just as furious as Neteyam had moments ago. Behind her, Tuk followed oblivious to all the feelings that were being thrown around the room. At the sight of them, his hands dropped from your arms and he took a step back putting distance between the two of you. You ignored how the simple action played with your feelings because you knew you would have to get used to it — the lack of his physical touch. You were brought back out of your daze, your eyes finally leaving the side of Neteyam’s face as you felt a more petite body collide with yours. 
Tuk was hugging you and hesitantly, you wrapped your arms around her. It was the only warm feeling left you could actively acknowledge. Neytiri let out a breath of relief at the sight of you, “Oh Great Mother, you’re here, finally.” 
She walked straight by her son who now found the ground much more interesting to look at than you. His walls were back up just like that as the strong soldier he was supposed to be and you all were forced to revert your attention to the importance at hand; your ceremony. His silence was so loud though, it was the only thing that could hold your attention.
“I am sorry Neytiri to have kept you all waiting.” 
“Shush,” she stepped forward, hand brushing across your shoulder. She hissed then underneath her breath, her ears flattening slightly, “I pray for the strength that I will not pluck the eyeballs out of my youngest son.” 
The mention of Lo’ak had your shoulders dropping, the guilt beginning to swallow you that they once again put all the blame on him. As if you were nothing but an innocent child who didn’t know any better, they looked to him expectantly — all of their protectiveness of you overshadowing the poor treatment they were giving him. Even if he had kept you out far later than he should have, he was unworthy of the treatment they were giving him, Toruk Makto’s son or not. 
“We need to start getting you ready,” she said then, moving to continue what Kiri had already started with your hair. Her fingers quickly but gently began to undo the remaining braids. Her eyes then flickered up to her oldest son who stood nearby stealing glances at you. 
She raised her eyebrow expectantly at him and as if he was about to leave, her husband came barreling into the room but with no Lo’ak following after him. Instead, the younger boy stood outside, leaning against the opening, arms crossed over his chest, and face pulled into a scowl. Jake hesitated from addressing Neteyam as he saw you standing before his wife, luckily unharmed.
Stepping forward, his large palm ghosted over your cheek, that Olo’eyktan look about him faltering slightly, “You okay?” 
Your eyes narrowed and you found yourself glancing from him back to his son. Neteyam was already looking at you, his soft gaze completely hidden in front of his parents. You glanced between the two of them and somehow you just knew. They were all keeping it from you and based on their reactions, whatever it was it couldn’t have been good in the slightest. 
“Yes, I am fine,” you said, voice wavering slightly as Jake’s hand dropped from you.
Neytiri continued with your hair and all of the women watched as Jake took Neteyam by the shoulder and guided him a few feet away. They both had lowered their voices but even with his efforts, you all were able to hear every word, “Immediately after the ceremony we go, do you hear me, boy? We can’t waste any more time so as soon as it’s over, we call the Ikrans.” 
“Yes, sir,” Neteyam nodded, and you felt your heart spike in your chest. 
It seemed Neytiri wasn’t entirely aware of the situation either as her movements slowed down and she looked up at her husband questioningly about what exactly he was ordering their son to do. Her eyes narrowed, and the motherly protectiveness built into her DNA showed. She called out to her husband and the two men became tense at her voice. Slowly they both looked up, hesitant about what they should and shouldn’t say. She only saw this seriousness when Jake began to channel his marine side and she felt her stomach prick nervously at how he stepped forward as if he was going to prepare her. 
“What’s going on?” 
He sighed, “We’ve gotten word that there are sky people close to the border. Far closer than ever before.” 
Neteyam glanced over at you trying to gauge your reaction and you felt your whole body stiffen — out of dread, fear of a reality where maybe this would be the end of your avatar form. If another war was going to break out, there would be no room and no safety for you to keep entering the link pod every day. It would all be over and with you still being very much one of them, one of the sky people, you could get shunned from the village. 
Jake stepped forward though and tried to ease her worries, “I’ve gotten word that it’s only a few. There is nothing to worry about yet, okay? After the ceremony, Neteyam and I will gather the Ikrans and go see what’s going on. We will be spotting, nothing else.” 
Your mouth parted, unable to stop how you instantly looked at Neteyam. When he caught your eye and your expression, he couldn’t help but look away — away from the fear slapped across your face. Neytiri nodded but a part of her still couldn’t let it go, “If it is only a few can’t you order someone else to do it?” 
Jake shook his head, “I need to see this for myself to better assess the situation. It’ll be fine, I promise you.” 
“And Lo’ak?” Neytiri asked.
“I talked to him, he knows what he needs to know about the situation. Keep an eye on him though when we leave, I can’t have that boy doing anything else stupid.” 
Tuk was still wrapped around your body and you felt the way she turned her head into your stomach, trying so hard to understand everything her parents were saying. Jake glanced down at his youngest daughter and knew he probably shouldn’t have said anything in front of her but it couldn’t wait. To avoid Neytiri worrying about it later or feeling blindsided, he needed to say it and somehow the children being present was just unexpected collateral damage. You hugged her tighter to your form, hands rubbing her back softly. 
“It’s getting late,” Jake acknowledged, glancing at Neteyam and then back to his wife. 
Neytiri nodded, knowing that with time now more important, she had to turn off everything that worried her — every fear or possibility of the worst occurring. Instead, she pushed it all down away with the pain and the grief where she built her strength. As if it hadn’t been the most terrifying news she had heard in years, she pushed it all down and focused on the moment right in front of them. You and your ceremony. Before anything else, that must be completed first and have all of their attention.
She clicked her tongue in the direction of the exit nodding to the two men and accepting her wish, they turned to leave. Neteyam was hesitant for a moment, his eyes scanning over you one more time before he followed after his father. A look you all had noticed. Neytiri glanced from him to you, brows furrowed for a brief moment. She let it go though, deciding not to think about what it meant. Instead, she released your hair from the last braid and ran her fingers through the soft waves.
Kiri went to gather the newly beaded top she had made for you and Tuk released you to follow after her sister. Neytiri smoothing out your hair moved to face you. As she looked down at you, you couldn’t help but notice that her eyes appeared far more gentle than you would have ever thought they would be when looking at you. As much as you had changed, matured, and begun to see the world differently, so did she.
She had learned to accept you as everyone else had and slowly realized how right her husband had been about everything — you, your past, and the hold you seemed to have on her children after all these years. Your heart was kind and strong and belonged among them more than she had ever realized. 
She smiled, “How are you feeling? Ready?” 
“Yes,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper as you stared over at the beautiful woman who wasn’t that much taller than you. 
It was then that Neytiri realized how grown up you were, almost nineteen with an entire life ahead of you within the village. She took notice of how more and more every day you began to appear less like a girl and more like a woman. Even with you only having the avatar for less than a year, she could see how evident the changes were before you. And it all started and ended with how you saw her and everyone around you, with such clarity and endless love. 
“I am nervous,” you whispered then and her smile suddenly widened. 
“You have nothing to worry about. Eywa has accepted you among the people and understands your heart more than anyone. She sees you and now you will be one of us for the rest of time. Na’viyä hapxì (one of the people).” 
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You thought you had known what it would be like, what it would feel like. It was a moment you had been thinking about nonstop from the moment Neytiri had granted you permission to learn the Na’vi ways from her son. You thought you had gone through all the possibilities of how it would play out, what would be said, what you would be wearing, and ultimately how you would feel. None of it could have prepared you. Not in the slightest as no one can really understand what being born twice feels like. Or what that level of acceptance feels like. No one can possibly know until it happens to them. 
That is what you realized when you walked out a mere half hour later, your head in the stars and body completely lit with the possibilities of life laid out before you. Dressed in the most carefully crafted purple beaded top, you felt the eyes follow you, taking in the new woven necklaces and the sudden way your hair fell so differently. Instead of tightly pulled together in small braids, it fell softly and in natural waves with the top half pulled back out of your face, a large flower laced into it.
White paint decorated every inch of your skin, done by Neytiri, across your entire face, and down your torso. It brought out the gold in your eyes and drew attention to the gentle curve of your lips. A songchord hung from a thin band tightly wrapped around your waist and everyone glanced curiously at the Waytelem and how proudly you wore it. It held very few beads, but the newest sage green hollowed-out bead was the most noticeable. 
The clan clumped together in a crowd watching on as the young woman slowly approached the Sully family that stood proudly in front of everyone, all beside Jake Sully the Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya. They and everyone else couldn’t deny the beauty that was brought out of a person walking with their own heart clasped openly in their hands. At that moment you were no longer an alien to ogle at. The extra finger on both hands didn’t hold any other significance, and you were no longer a sky person to them. Instead, you were just a young woman, a young Na’vi looking to be given a place among the people. 
The people began to collapse around you, quiet prayers falling from their lips as Jake stepped towards you, dressed as the king he was destined to be. The Sully family followed, surrounding you; Neteyam on one side and Neytiri on the other. Beside her, Mo’at with Kiri, Tuk, and Lo’ak standing behind you. Your eyes flickered to the side to find Neteyam, his eyes already staring straight at you, shining proudly. 
Jake raised his hands up in the air, all attention on him. A smile spread widely across your face as for a moment he was brought back to his ceremony, his own rebirth before the Omatikaya. He knew how you felt, he knew how overwhelming and wonderful it was to be seen differently than the five-fingered alien that stumbled across the village.
He peered into your eyes and fully understood every emotion that flickered within your eyes, “Ngenga ‘ite Omatikayaä luyu set. Na’viyä luyu hapxì (You are now a daughter of the Omaticaya. You are part of The People).” 
His hands then fell to your shoulders. Then slowly, following their Olo’eyktan you felt hands appear across your side and along your back — all starting with the feeling of Neteyam’s pressing along your chest, right where your heart was. He felt the way it picked up in your chest and as you glanced up at him, you found him smiling.
Neytiri and Mo’at’s hands were felt across your side and Lo’ak and Kiri’s palms were pressed firmly along your back with Tuk claiming your stomach. From there the rest of the clan followed. People of the village grabbed onto the shoulders of whoever was standing in front of them and just as Kiri had described, a circle had formed, of intertwined arms all connected before Eywa with you at the center — the center of the Great Mother’s heart. Closing your eyes, it was like your life had become complete, like every moment spent in your human form had been a sacrifice that would one day lead you to this. 
As you opened your eyes, a single tear falling, you met the gaze of Jake Sully, Toruk Makto, Olo’eyktan, past dream walker and you knew then without a doubt, no matter what happened your life was complete.
As soon as the ceremony was over, you were pulled into hugs, arms clasping around your form, laughter and encouraging words whispered in your ears. The second the circle had started to diminish, you felt Kiri practically leap onto your back, her arms winding under your shoulders to pull you back against her chest. You laughed as her head leaned against yours, her joy painting your skin in the form of tears. You felt another frame sneak around her sister, appearing at your side and swiftly wrapping her smaller arms around your torso, not even caring that the white paint was transferring onto her skin. Tuk.
Neytiri remained in the same spot she had been during the ceremony, the corners of her lips lifted up softly as her eyes glossed over, unable to look away from the sight of her children winding themselves around you. She could see then how wrong she had been. How wrong she had been about it all, evident in the way the children cried for you, their hearts so full of love in that moment You had their hearts and in return gave yours back to them. 
As the two sisters finally released you from their grasp, you felt a small tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you found Lo’ak bashfully staring at you with a small smile, his eyes hesitantly looking over you. His proposal flashed in your head but seeing the boyish expression on his face, your eyes softened and you reached out to him. His whole body flushed with relief as you stepped closer to him. His arms wrapped around your upper back and pulled you tightly against him. He couldn’t help the happiness he felt at the feeling of your nose pressed along his cheek and you returning his embrace just as firmly.
Even with all of the waves of emotions that were drowning you in every positive feeling you could think of, a hole appeared in your chest. One that suddenly caught your attention over the chatter of voices within your ears. It was like you could still feel where his hands were moments before. His absence was prominent and you couldn’t help but look around frantically, spinning around in the hopes you would find his braided hair or brightly beaded chest guard. It was as if Eywa had whispered in your ear to look for him and everything else that had mattered in the forefront of your mind was gone. No, all you could hear pulsing loudly in your ears was... Neteyam. 
Neteyam. Neteyam. Neteyam. 
The boy who now could be considered a man had done this for you; had helped you get to this point, had spent countless hours with you telling you every little secret he had within his back pocket about the forest, about the Na’vi, and about Eywa herself. The man who had swept you away without you even realizing it and had captured you with his attractiveness and attentiveness. The future Olo’eyktan who you knew you could never have left an ache in you, one that had altered your very being as dramatic as it sounded. During that time full of celebration and success, all you wished for was to get a glimpse of him. 
Your shoulders deflated though as in the swarm of blue, his taller frame was nowhere to be seen. As if he wasn’t even there at all but a figment of your imagination. Glancing around, you realized that Jake Sully was also missing and you knew then that there hadn’t been a moment to waste.
In fact, as soon as you were being pulled into Lo’ak’s embrace, Neteyam was already on top of his Ikran flying off into the night sky beside his father. The only thing occupying his mind was the look on your face when he placed his hands on you during the ceremony.
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Just as Jake had stated, the sky people were chipping away at the territory line drawn, marching through in large metal suits carrying guns in their hands. Those who walked bravely on their feet were alive from the oxygen masks pulled tightly across their faces. Others that weren’t holding guns were scanning the area with things Neteyam couldn’t name. But he watched as the machines and glass screens scanned the plants, the ground, and the foliage, all of it searching for traces of either Unobtainium or traces of Na’vi DNA. Either they were fine with. If they didn’t find any, Neteyam watched in horror as they burned whatever was in front of them like it was useless. To them though it was.
Neteyam had witnessed their destructive behavior many times, while he and his brother acted as spotters with their father leading the raids and stealing equipment. There was no empathy, no fairness in the affairs of men, and definitely not in a war. As the strong older brother, he was forced to keep it together for his younger siblings and the people of the clan — that was his burden along with taking on this impossible role. He felt as if Eywa was on their side when the sky people began to retreat the last few years like they were respecting the boundaries. He knew though that they didn’t operate like that and they never had. Their pullback and minor activity allowed the clan to stay in the forest and the village, living as they always wanted. He could see now that they hadn’t pulled back or they had been hiding at all, but rather taking the time to prepare. 
Preparing to someday have the technology and the equipment to strike again and have it worth something. It seemed their days of preparing had come to an end and they were ready. Neteyam’s mouth was pulled into a tight line and for a moment his father’s voice droned off — all of the military talk, the orders of strategies, or the terminology that was trying to be passed down from one leader to another didn’t matter anymore. Because from above, for the first time, Neteyam watched his entire world begin to burn before his eyes, and the only sound he could make out was the cries from Eywa herself.
He had gotten back to the village late and it was even later when his father released him from the confines of a long conversation — a conversation he didn’t wish to be a part of. He wasn’t Olo’eyktan yet and even though he had just turned nineteen, no one seemed to see that the warrior before them was still so young. He had duties, and expectations, and just like he had admitted to you all those months ago, he was the protector. The burden installed on a firstborn son as his future was hung up in the stars. He didn’t have time to fall apart. 
With that thought, he knew what he did have time for even with the world burning around him — you. Your ceremony, which had seemed so far away for months, had appeared in the blink of an eye. Somehow all of your nights together were behind him. The nights of confessing things he had never thought he could say to another person. Nights where you guys swam in the cool water, soaking in how alive it made you feel. Nights where he had wanted to reach over and hold your hand in his or possibly do something more. All of those suddenly were a part of the past; now that he knew what he knew, he wanted one more. 
He saw the lights that were still glowing from the old tree. The thought had crossed his mind that maybe you were there — had decided to wait for him. Left the candles, sat down on a hand-stitched tapestry, and were waiting for him to walk in any moment. He thought about you sitting, bare legs crossed out in front of you, still wearing the hand-crafted beaded top you had been wearing earlier, your soft hair flowing down your back. He thought about your soft lips that would be parted softly in shock when he finally arrived and then instantly lift into a soft smile. 
Neteyam wondered what they felt like, how they would fit against his — how they would taste. He wondered how you would taste. Guilt appeared then because this was not the first time he had thought about you this way. In all honesty, it had been going on for months starting at night when he lay awake staring at the ceiling. Then, his thoughts of you changed, starting with your lips, to something less than innocent. He would never admit it to anyone though, not when you were the one on his mind when his hands ended up between his thighs at night.
Somehow it had become normal to him, his hidden affection for you. As well as the desire that filled his body when he thought about you, especially when you looked at him with that pinched expression you usually acquired whenever he was being a jackass. It was wrong of him to do that. It always had been because you were never his and he knew that you never would be. However, it wouldn’t stop him from thinking about it for one last night. 
As he stepped into the opening of the tree, he realized that you weren't there at all but it was his two siblings. They were standing close to one another talking under their breaths as if they didn’t want anyone else to hear. Kiri was practically yelling at Lo’ak even with her attempt to whisper, and the tone of her voice felt like a hot knife running across both the boys' skin.
Neteyam approached curiously, not drawing either of their attention. Lo’ak’s arms were crossed over his chest and based on the look in his eye, he was being defensive. That usually meant he had done something he clearly shouldn’t have.
“How could you do this Lo’ak? How could you do this to Y/N?” Kiri snapped for the hundredth time at her brother, a protectiveness over you and a seriousness that she thought he would have understood. A type of feeling she thought they all had for you but clearly, she was wrong because if Lo’ak felt the same, then he wouldn’t have done this. She never sounded this way, this upset. 
Neteyam now a few feet from them, watched as Lo’ak raised his hands in the air and let them fall to his sides in annoyance. “To her? Kiri, I am doing this for her."
"Really, are you sure she feels that way?" Kiri sent back.
"It is not that big of a deal. You’re acting as if I did something wrong.”
Her eyes widened and she swore under her breath as her hands tightened at her sides with a sudden inclination to smack her brother across the face. Lo’ak stared at her, waiting for an outburst, or for her to curse him out or worse tell their parents. He waited and tapped his foot obnoxiously. 
“Not that big of a deal?” she said then, incredulously, eyes narrowing further, “Lo’ak you asked her to be your mate.”
A second.
The prolonging silence, accompanied by a sweep of denial was the first thing he could feel as the disarming words repeated back in his mind.
Lo’ak you asked her to be your mate. The words felt like an endless pit as they filled Neteyam’s ears, unable to fully register if what he heard was true. All breath had been stolen from his lungs out of disbelief. A disbelief that left him feeling suffocated as his frantic eyes flickered back and forth between his brother and sister.
His hands clenched and unclenched with every second that passed, each becoming more agonizing than the last. The silence was palpable, completely torturous as the words he had never even pondered a day in his life suddenly ripped holes into his body. The shock had taken over his system and like an endless cycle he kept repeating the tormentful sentence in his head and by the third time, he felt the images start to distort before him.
As if he could feel his own cold blood under his touch staining his palms at the sight of you and his younger brother filling his mind. The destruction to his very being. Lo’ak held your hands as he asked you the question that would lead to Neteyam's demise. Lo’ak wrapping his arms around you. Lo’ak kissing you. Lo’ak getting to explore every part of your body that Neteyam had craved for himself like a moth to a flame. Lo’ak mating you. A thought that could only encourage the bullets in his chest to tear and taint what was left of his sanity. You asked her to be your mate. 
After the sixth time, the shock seemed to settle in his bones and effortlessly turned to grief. As if the mercy he had begged for was not spared and instead led to his morbid end. Then with a much-delayed reaction, it felt like a kiss of life was bestowed on him. It traveled to his heart in the form of icy water, sending a thousand bolts of electricity through him, telling him to wake up from the bitter daydream.
He was again rewarded with reality perpetuating his mind and brought him back to the sight before him. His sister angrily glared at Lo'ak, who refused to fall honorably under her will and admit that his actions were wrong. It was no longer Neteyam that was in denial but his younger brother.
Then the icy water replaced all of the blood in his body, and a new feeling formed. His eyes twitched, head spiraling with rage, sending his senses into chaos. Unlike all of the times before when he had felt the green monster create feelings of irritation or insecurity, he knew this was something else. No, this was so much more than that. 
It was a rage that was felt with every fiber of his being, every nerve of his entire self. That’s how undeniably pissed Neteyam was; like his entire world had crumbled before him and the lone destructor was his brother. His own brother he had spent his whole life being told to protect, taking the blame for because it meant he was doing what was asked of him. All of his life was spent putting up with Lo’ak and sacrificing everything for him. Now, all that was left in Neteyam’s chest was the feeling of complete and utter betrayal. In itself that was the worst rage to have.
“You did what!” 
Breaths were stolen as his voice cut through the night's air. His voice sounded so foreign even to himself, so cold, and so desolate of any emotion. With a sharp intake, both siblings turned around.
Kiri stood still as she realized her anger was nothing compared to the future clan leader. To her, it was like a dark shadow had fallen over her brother’s features. He stood, tall, hands tightly bound into fists. She flinched lightly, merely watching as he tilted his head towards Lo’ak. She had never seen Neteyam this angry and she knew that it had been her words that had been the cause of it.
Lo’ak could feel the rage pulsating from his brother’s body, the brother who hadn't thrown a punch at him since they were no older than eight and six years old. His older brother who had always protected him and taken his side no matter what, somehow was no longer there. That Neteyam wasn't there anymore and Lo'ak knew exactly why.
It was you and he knew it because Neteyam wouldn't act like this for just anything or anyone. Lo'ak had known far too well the feelings his older brother harbored for you, secretly of course, because Neteyam could never admit it out loud. It was almost as if you were some secret to keep locked away until nighttime fell. Lo’ak finally knew that the one thing Neteyam suddenly truly wanted, away from everything else he had been given was you. However, the world wasn't set up for people to get what they wanted and Lo'ak couldn't care about Neteyam's feelings.
Because where Neteyam could never have you, he got everything else; the pride from his parents, the praise from the clan, the admiration of all the women in the village, the title of Olo’eyktan, and being described as the headstrong warrior. The older Sully sibling had it all and somehow Lo’ak couldn’t feel bad for what he had done, not when it came to you. 
“Oh, look the perfect little soldier has returned,” he said, provokingly, ignoring the way Kiri’s eyes widened at his choice of words. 
Neteyam growled under his breath and stepped forward, the anger in his eyes only igniting further, “Really, that’s how you want to go about this right now? Perfect little soldier! Really, Lo'ak?” 
Lo’ak’s face twisted, jaw clenching to match his brother’s, “Yes, I think I do.” 
Neteyam sighed, one that sounded more dejected than it did angry, “Please don’t tell me that what Kiri says is true. You wouldn’t do this.” 
“Except that I did, brother. I asked Y/N to be my mate.” 
“Lo’ak,” Kiri warned but he sent a glare her way and suddenly she found herself no longer wanting to intervene.
She shook her head unable to understand what Lo’ak was doing or how he could be saying any of those things — as if his resentment had taken over and his initial awareness of everything else was nowhere to be seen.
Neteyam’s tail swished angrily, aiding in how he kept clenching his fists. His voice was low, scary even, “How could you?” 
“How could I? Are you fucking kidding me?” Lo’ak cursed, sarcasm dripping from his voice as you flickered through his mind. 
You, Y/N Y/L/N were sweet, strong, and absolutely stunning. You were everything that any man could want and somehow you had gotten yourself all tangled up in a fish line — a fish line that belonged to his brother. A fish line that would never be pulled in. You were falling for Neteyam and Lo'ak couldn’t bare to see it someday destroy you.
Everyone knew about the plan, about Mrs. Neteyam Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan, the soon-to-be Tsahik and he wasn’t about to watch one of his closest friends waste her time pining over someone she could never have. He wasn’t going to let that happen to you, especially if Mo’at reconsidered your transfer request. He wasn’t about to watch you spend the rest of your life alone, hoping his brother would one day come to his senses. Neteyam was full of too much pride for that and he followed the rules far too close to ever go against what is asked of him. 
“Neteyam, you will never be able to be with her, do you realize that?” 
His body stiffened at Lo’ak’s claim. How he had been called out so effortlessly after months, after half of a year hiding how he felt about you. After spending so much time hiding it because he knew better than anyone how true Lo'ak's words were. In fact, he was reminded of it every day. Future Olo'eyktan, that's all he had ever been and all he would ever be seen as for the rest of his life. Everyone's expectations of him weren't suddenly known to him.
Lo’ak inhaled, voice lowering slightly, “You can't be with her, and I didn’t do this to hurt you, Neteyam. I did this for her. I don’t want her to be alone. I asked her to be my mate because she deserves someone who wants to be with her. Someone who won’t put everything else before her, especially their duties.” 
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Neteyam hissed, voice laced with despair.
“And she at least deserves someone who can admit their feelings for her out loud.” 
Even if what Lo'ak said was completely true, Neteyam couldn't listen to him anymore. Instead, he took the time to wonder how Lo’ak had even gotten to the point to ask you this. You were a dream walker. A sky person at night and their mother had firmly set a line, boundaries that clearly stated you shouldn’t be mating with anyone unless you were to become a full Na’vi. His eyes widened then, his thoughts stopping short as he realized.
A full Na’vi. 
His face, once twisted in blistering sorrow, now was coiled with anger. Eyes narrowing, they never left Lo’ak's frame, as the question left his mouth like an irrefutable fact. “Why did you ask her now?” 
“What do you mean?” 
Neteyam took a step closer to his brother, rage the epitome of his being, his protectiveness of you taking priority over everything else, “Mother clearly said that Y/N wasn’t allowed to mate with anyone as long as she was still a dream walker. So tell me, brother, why did you ask her now?”
Lo’ak's eyes fell for a moment, finding interest in the ground, realizing then that the worst was yet to come. As it was the same reason Kiri had been angry with Lo’ak in the first place — it wasn’t because he had asked you to be his mate, it was why he asked you to be his mate. The transfer ritual. The ritual that had the ability to take your life.
“Lo’ak, ‘eyng! (Answer),” Neteyam demanded, already having a suspicion about the answer that would come out of his brother’s mouth. A suspicion of the reasoning behind all of it.
Slowly, Lo’ak lifted his head to look at Neteyam who was full of so much fear it was being expressed as aggression. He shook his head, finally finding the strength to admit it out loud, “Since she went to see Mo’at about a consciousness transfer.” 
A second.
Then it was like a bomb went off in Neteyam’s head, a blaring warning of the inevitable end that was soon to come. His ears were ringing and his sight had blurred and at that moment he hadn’t comprehended what he was doing until he had already done it.
The punch had sent Lo’ak barreling back, shock appearing on his face along with a fresh trail of blood falling from his cheek, where the skin had been ripped open. He reached up and let his fingers brush along the cut, hissing out in pain as his older brother stared at him with the coldest look he had ever seen. 
Kiri had gasped, “Neteyam!” 
“You fucker!” Neteyam mumbled out, hand still tightly clenched together his brother’s blood now smeared across his fist, “You motherfucker. How could you be so selfish?” 
“Selfish?” Lo’ak chuckled now just in mere disbelief, “Seriously?” 
“You just don’t say anything! You let her request a transfer and you don’t say anything! What the fuck is wrong with you Lo’ak?”
“Neteyam, stop,” Kiri spoke again, her voice firm
Instead, he stepped forward, the furrow in his brow still evident, and fist raising slightly in the air. Lo’ak shook his head and let out a laugh as he glanced down at the drops of blood on his chest “You know what? Fuck this.” 
Lo'ak lunged forward then, his hand clasped tightly into a fist, punching Neteyam square in the side of the head. Knuckles broke skin, right above the warrior's left eyebrow. Kiri hissed under her breath, somehow beginning to feel like her mother did when she once had to deal with stupid men and their need to solve problems with their fists, “Ftang! (stop) Both of you.” 
Neteyam stumbled back but only for a moment as he regained his strength immediately. He smirked slightly, not even bothering to check the damage as he bound forward again. Getting a hold of Lo’ak, they both fell to the ground and suddenly it had become a conversation turned to punches being thrown back and forth. Neteyam had managed to get multiple in, not even holding back on his strength, until Lo’ak managed to get a leg up in between them, kneeing his older brother straight in the side. 
“Ftang (stop)!” 
Neteyam’s abdomen clenched and the sudden impact knocked the wind out of him, giving Lo’ak the opportunity to roll over on top of him. Lo’ak with the upper hand began to throw punches into his brother’s sides rather than his face. Hissing out, Neteyam felt his body recoil at every harsh throw to his torso and it was like there was nothing left. Nothing left in him to bargain for or intangibly fix. The pain was all-consuming at that point, his brain unable to wash away the deception he felt.
Letting out a yell, Neteyam sent a barreling hook into Lo’ak’s chin knocking him off balance. With the opportunity, he shoved his younger brother back and off of him. Lo’ak hit the ground hard, his back sliding across the dirt, creating more cuts.
Scrambling up on his feet, Neteyam wiped the blood from his face and stepped towards his brother’s frame, suddenly defenseless. He struggled to breathe but gathered all the strength he could and as he towered over his younger brother, he felt his respect for Lo’ak disappear completely. Staring down, he took notice of the blood sliding down across the side of Lo’ak’s face as well as the deep cut that was made across his upper lip. A bruise was already forming around his eyes, and his hands were splattered with Neteyam’s blood.
As he looked down at him, a flicker of the past appeared in front of his eyes. A smaller Lo’ak, an innocent helpless child who followed him around, asking him to teach him to hunt. A child who paraded around the village on Neteyam's tail trying to get him to play with him. For a moment as he stared down at Lo'ak, all he saw was his younger troublesome brother who was almost two years younger than him. Then in an instant, that old version was gone, like it was nothing but a ghost of the past, and in its place remained the Lo’ak he had been dealing with for years. The one he felt had hurt him in the worst way possible.
Kiri was staring at her brothers in disbelief and watched with fear as Neteyam stood huffing over Lo’ak, still full of so much anger. A look and feeling none of them thought he was capable of directing at someone in his family, let alone his younger brother. Luckily, before anything else could happen, all three siblings felt their attention be ripped away by the sound of heavy footsteps soon accompanied by a bellowing voice. One that was far scarier than even Neteyam’s.
Jake had heard from a rider of the clan that they had spotted his two sons yelling at one another in the old tree. He sighed, already annoyed about having to deliver a long lecture as well as a kick in the ass to both of his sons. A parenting moment that he didn’t have time for. Having heard the rider’s words, Neytiri looked over at her husband in slight disbelief. With Tuk tucked away in bed, both parents began to make their way to the old sacred tree.
What had been described as a mere argument seemed to be so much more as they heard their daughter yelling inside at her two brothers, accompanied by the sounds of colliding fists and painful grunts. They broke out into a run then and as Jake sprinted to the tree, he felt his stomach drop at the sight of his two sons tangled on the ground punches flying at one another. 
As he stepped foot inside, he found Neteyam towering over Lo’ak both of them covered in blood and bruises. Kiri stood by, arms wrapped around herself with tears filling her eyes. He surveyed the scene and felt all reason leave his body. His stare hardened and his entire body tensed up at a sight he never expected to see.
“Hey! What the fuck do you two think you are doing?” 
As they got closer, Neytiri gasped at the appearance of her two sons, battered and bruised far worse than she had ever seen before. Approaching Kiri, she took her hand in hers while her own expression seethed fire, “Kehe (no)! What happened?” 
Jake took a hold of Lo’ak and pulled him up and off the ground, his expression was sharp as knives as his hand firmly gripped his youngest son’s arm.
“It was one thing to hear a rider tell me that he can hear both of my sons screaming and at each other’s throats about something but it was another to come and find you two idiots trying to beat each other to a pulp!” 
Neteyam wasn’t even looking at his father, instead deathly still with a distraught look pained across his face. His brother's glare twists in his chest and at the hollow feeling in his throat, he couldn't help but look down at his hands and his body. Blood coating his skin like heavy rain, resembled the only feeling still piercing his chest.
“What the fuck has gotten into the two of you?” Jake demanded.
He was met with a deafening silence. Neytiri hissed at her two sons, the disbelief that such anger could be taken out on each other evident on her face. “Answer your father!” 
Feeling the tightness of his father’s grip, Lo’ak's mouth parted like he was going to answer, but before he could say anything Neteyam beat him to it, his voice raw and empty, “Nothing.” 
“Nothing, really?” Jake chuckled, angrily, “Why don’t you take a look at your brother’s face and tell me if that does something to jog your memory.”
Neteyam's lips sealed shut, eyes refusing to look away from his blood-covered knuckles. At his silence, Jake huffed so loudly it drew a shaky breath out of Kiri as he directed his glare away from Neteyam to Lo'ak. Except Lo’ak wouldn't dare break first.
Jaked growled, reaching out to grab Neteyma’s forearm to try and get his attention. His glaring eyes could not stop looking between his two sons, ablazed. His sight turned red and his expression was rigid as his teeth gritted together.
“You both better come up with an answer real quick or you’re going to get knots in your tails. You read me?”
His grip had loosened slightly however as he looked back over at Neteyam. The tightness of his jaw and the quiver of his bleeding lips took Jake by surprise. It was a look he had never seen on his son before. Tears welled up in the young soldier's eyes and he fought to keep them from escaping in front of his father. Warriors don't cry and they sure as hell don't cave in. They don't get crushed under the weight of a broken heart because there are others to be concerned about.
With his ears pulled back, he felt the tightness in his chest worsen. Jake shared a look with Neytiri and it was like they both could identify the exact feeling laced across their son's face. Defeat.
Jake's mouth parted in shock as Neteyam suddenly ripped his arm free and turned swiftly on his heels, heading straight for the exit.
“Neteyam!”
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Hi, how you doing, luv? I saw your requests were open so here I am!
I told this idea to a friend and we liked it so much I needed to see it written, and I love how you write Arthur!
I don't usually request/like low honor Arthur but hear me out! Low honor Arthur with a female reader and he's user her as his alibi whenever he goes on a killing spree. But she happily applies, smiling at the officers when she gets questioned like "it ain't him officer. how do I know that, you say? he was with me the whole time🤭" while Arthur quietly cleans the blood splatters off his guns
Samy!! Here it is!! I really hope you'll like it😭 Also, hell yes, what an ask! Loved writing it. Makes me want to write more Low!Honor. And ngggh the best compliment ever telling me you love how I write him I can't
˖✧ Pretty lies
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✦ Pairing: Low!Honor Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader  ✦ Warnings/Tags: Blood (obviously), guns, cursing, canon era speech, ending is suggestive. Therefore, MDNI, please! ✦ Words: 1,8k ✦ a/n: Okay so, this is my first attempt ever at a Low Honnor Arthur. I guess I just made him bolder, extra cocky+extra flirty? Hope it’ll fit! ALSO, as always, English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if anything sounds weird. Please if you notice any mistakes, reach up to me! ✦Credits. First pic is from Reddeadcomfort on Pinterest, gun pic from Pinterest too. Second one from my playthrough; blood stains and dividers by me.
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Arthur’s violence wasn’t a secret to anyone. Not to anybody in camp, not to you, certainly not to himself. 
Not even to numerous people at this point, considering the large number of poor fellas who had the bad luck to cross him and ended up beaten to a pulp, covered in bruises, head in a drinking trough, riddled with bullets, or even worse.
But you loved him, no matter what. You knew about his flaws. Knew about his brutal, crude side. But around you, this heated aura was turning into something else entirely. And you liked it.
So, when a panting Arthur had rushed to you on the porch of Strawberry’s hotel, blood covering his entire self, face and hair included, blue eyes shining sapphires in a tide of rubies, you weren’t that surprised. You were even less when he asked you to be his alibi for whatever the Hell he just did, as he had taken the habit of doing lately. Lying for Arthur’s crimes could have looked like an immoral thing to do, but as a member of the gang too, you clearly weren’t a saint either.
And you really were enjoying this little game.
The subtle grin Arthur had every time you would lie in front of the police for him, asserting with absolute conviction you had been together all day. The rosy tone his cheeks, ears and neck were displaying when you felt bolder and added some details in your alibis. Details about fake, steamy nights or afternoons you were supposed to have shared, swearing to the Lord you had the unholiest of times together. Oh, the look he was giving you. Knowing, amused, dreamy and so, so proud and debauched. Lustful, even.
You were sure he was enjoying it too.
“Alright, I’ll cover for you again. But at least go take a bath, I can’t do miracles.” You ordered him, a devilish smile on your face. 
“Thank you, sugar.” Arthur quickly answered, his voice just a low, breathless mumbling, barely letting you distinguish his words.
He quickly entered the hotel and you heard the receptionist gasp from where you were. You chuckled to yourself, imagining his outraged face rapidly losing all its composure under Arthur’s hard gaze piercing through the layer of blood, ordering him to prepare a bath as gently as if he was doing a hold-up.
Poor man must have liquefied on the spot.
You leaned against the patio’s fence and breathed in the fresh late afternoon air of Strawberry, alpenglow golden and rosy on top of the mountains, a peaceful scenery under your eyes. Contrasting with the horror and brutality Arthur must have left in his trail.
He was quick to join you again, looking fresh and neat as if he were a completely normal gentleman. His messy hair and dirty beard long gone, a nice black shirt, shiny boots, and a scout jacket on, probably to match Strawberry people's clothes. 
The only things that hadn't benefited from a change were his eternal Gambler hat and his holster and revolvers, both still painted with blood stains, a red and morbid Appaloosa coat on shiny metal.
“Policemen won’t be too long to arrive. ‘Hid my face but they chased me down all the way from Flatneck Station.” He informed you, voice calmer and shoulders less tensed.
“What the Hell were you doing there?”
“Robbin’ a train.” He replied with a cocky grin, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“More like slaughterin’ a train, uh?”
“Smart mouth.” He retorted, amused by your remark. “Too many of ‘em bastards had irritated me.”
“And how much did you get exactly?”
“Seven hundred.” His smirk widened as he patted his satchel, which was probably full of stolen money.
“Damn, Arthur! All by yourself? You never cease to impress me.”
His eyes wrinkled in a genuine smile, a rare sight. He didn’t add anything, silence enveloping both of you, as often in his company. But you knew he had loved your praise. 
Arthur casually sat on one of the chairs behind you, legs open to be more comfortable, and took his guns out of his holster, as relaxed as if he had sat to draw in his journal.
He knew the Law had absolutely no proof against him, and that you were charming enough to lead them up the garden path as easily as if they were children. 
As he had planned, two terribly worn-out lawmen arrived, clothes soiled and face tired. It looked like they didn’t have the time to take a good bath contrary to your companion, probably interrogating the whole town before arriving here. One of them, the shorter of the two, climbed up the wooden stair treads and spoke.
“Sir, Missus. We’re searching for a dangerous criminal. He has been described by several witnesses as a tall man with broad shoulders, brown hair, blue eyes, and a black leathered hat…” His words slowed down and turned into a whisper at the end of his sentence, lost in the air, as his gaze landed on Arthur. His eyes narrowed realizing he matched the description perfectly.
“Oh, I’m really sorry, officer, we haven’t seen anyone like this…” You said with your most angelic smile, your body turning politely from the fence to face the policeman.
You were now standing right next to Arthur who didn’t look bothered at all. 
All the contrary, he had given a simple salute by nodding his head to the man, the tip of his hat shaking nonchalantly in his direction, and had begun cleaning his guns, blood visible like porcelain dipped in a vibrant red paint.
The officer frowned, clearly not convinced.
“You, where were you-
“Him? He was with me all day officer."
He does not believe you. Yet. You took his arched eyebrow as a personal invitation to give him a good show:
"To tell you the truth, we’re on our honeymoon here, so we took the time to enjoy our day together…”
While speaking, you put a hand on Arthur’s shoulder, to emphasize your words, to look convincing. But you would have lied to yourself telling you weren’t appreciating this, fingers caressing his muscles through the thick jacket, traveling innocently to his neck where you brushed the base of his hair, just underneath his hat, pampering him as if he was a cat.
And Arthur? He had the biggest shit-eating grin you've ever seen on his face. He loved it, the pure audacity of it all, your teasing touch on the back of his head, his own hands busy with his guns, oil and piece of fabric wiping the fresh remnants from his killing spree of a few hours ago, in the most carefree way possible, all of it under the Law’s nose.
A rush of adrenaline spread through him, tingling and warming his body. He tried to fight his own blood from gathering more and more between his legs, but after all, looking all giddy would just make it all more convincing, right?
“But this man really looks like…” The policeman tried to object, before being cut by you once again.
“Officer, I assure you we was here all day…” You asserted, honeyed voice soft to the ears, eyes as innocent as a dove.
“Oh, except for this morning though, we was out. We tried this really special spot, you know? The one in the mountains, where you can bathe in these hot springs… We had a good time there, didn’t we, honey?” You fibbed with perfection, adding even more details to your tapestry of lies.
The hand you had on Arthur slowly pushed his head against your chest, his face ending up cheek against your cleavage. His devilish smirk almost cracked from widening, and the tip of his ears got all red and hot. You could feel it against your skin, both of you relishing in your juvenile, corny lovers play.
Inside, he felt like he was on top of the World right now.
“Yes baby, ‘t was definitely a good time…” Arthur agreed, playful eyes adverting from his revolvers to look at yours from down there, his slightly crooked teeth visible through his gigantic grin.
“A-arlight, I erm…” The lawman coughed, visibly uncomfortable because of your behavior and finally convinced by your pretty little speech. “I’ll leave you to… To "it" then. Good evening Sir, Ma’am.”
He walked back to his colleague who had smoked a cigarette while waiting for him. Arthur and you kept on playing your naive role until both of them were far enough, the last echo of their conversation sounding exceedingly comical into your ears:
“Shit, we lost this asshole…”
 “Told you this couldn’t be him. Who would be stupid enough to strut around right next to the sheriff’s office?”
Yeah, who would be, uh?
You giggled a bit, eyes still locked on the stupid man in question. He hadn’t stopped smiling the whole time, a low chuckle shaking his chest, joining yours.
“This was a close one. You’re getting more and more reckless…” You warned him gently, hand still wrapped around his head.
“But you, on the other hand, are a brilliant actor, darlin’.” He added, his deep voice showing a hint of amusement and mischief. “And you're getting bolder too. A honeymoon, really?”
“The damn bastard wouldn't let it go…” You shrugged with an innocent smile.
It looks like he was comfortable like this because he wasn’t making any effort to pull away from your soft flesh. All the contrary, a sneaky arm curled up around your waist, pushing you onto his lap, his guns and the piece of fabric ending up on top of your thighs.
“Ya know, alibis are fun an’ all but… Maybe we could have a good time for real, sometimes.” He whispered in your ear, big hands handling you gently, one resting on your legs, the other holding your back.
“Yeah? You tired of lying, Arthur?”
“Am tired of doin’ nothin’ while havin’ the most gorgeous woman in town pretendin’ to be my wife…” His thumb slowly strokes your thighs while answering in a low, passionate tone.
This wasn’t just pretty lies anymore. His voice wasn’t joking, it was filled with desire; his hands warm and demanding on your body.
“Mmh… I see… Maybe we could actually book a room here for the night then…” You answered in the same quiet register, betraying your own needs.
One of your hands grabbed his guns, the other the blackened piece of fabric damped with oil, and you finished cleaning up his revolvers for him, fingers delicate and attentive.
His eyes are locked on your hands and their movement, completely hypnotized by them, his ears turning entirely red, this sanguine color spreading less and less subtly on his face and chest too.
You can't help but notice the hardness growing between his legs, pressing under your body. 
And he can't wait for the moment when this won’t be the barrel of his gun you'd be holding and caressing between your hands…
“Sounds pretty good to me, “Missus Morgan”.”
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doberbutts · 1 year
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I was typing a big long thing about the changes I've experienced in a year on testosterone and how it's affected me and all that and then tumblr ate it and I really don't feel like retyping that whole thing but I am kinda salty about it so tldr:
Starting testosterone has been the best thing for my health that I've done. Ever. Better than getting a service dog. Better than restructuring my life to cater to my disabilities. Better than any procedure or medication or otherwise that I've tried. Simply rubbing a pack of gel on my arm once a day has done more for me than anything else.
When I went to my endo to start T, I went with a suspicion that I am intersex. She confirmed it via blood test and told me that with my variation I could try two different things: estrogen to control my high levels of natural androgens, or testosterone to lower my estrogen further and make it stop arguing with my androgens about whether I'm supposed to be a boy or a girl, as it's that argument that was causing a significant portion of my health problems. Estrogen has been tried in the past and only made things worse. She told me it was my choice, and only I could choose my path forward, as I knew my body the best.
When TERFs have a fit about gender affirming care, they usually leave out people like me, or they brush my story aside by saying that I'm just an anomaly, or they claim for me and my demographic that we don't want to be part of this discussion. But I don't fit their definition of a woman- I have a testicle, and my natural testosterone was within normal range on the low end for a cisgender, perisex man, and enough male sexual partners have commented on what's in my pants to tell me that it's far from the picturesque womanly pussy, especially considering I can- and have- use it to penetrate with the help of devices designed for cis men who are a little lacking in length.
When TERFs have a fit about gender affirming care, they scaremonger about side effects and changes. But, I was already hairy. I was already growing facial hair. I already had atrophied- and by 30 to the point that it's not really possible to fix without significant medical intervention. I was already infertile. I already had an adam's apple and a deep voice. I already had belly fat and blood pressure problems. My menstrual cycle was already hellish and had interfered with my school and work schedules. A popped ovarian cyst sent me to the ER.
I'd tried no treatment. I'd tried estrogen-based solutions. These not only did not work but actively made things worse. I was fainting at school. I was calling out of work. I couldn't drive without my service dog. I couldn't go out and have fun with my friends. I spent days at a time laying in bed in too much pain to move.
TERFs say, gender affirming care turns you into a forever patient.
I already was one of those. I almost died when I was a baby strictly because of lack of access to care that accepts children who are born who are both and also neither from the womb, before anyone has a chance to develop a personality or understand the difference between a boy and a girl.
Testosterone has turned me into a "once every 3 months" patient instead of a "twice a month minimum" patient. I pay less than $15/month for my prescription and it's mailed to my house in three-month increments. Stopping my wildly irregular and incredibly painful menstrual cycle has increased my quality of life so much. My body doesn't ache for no reason anymore. I don't faint anymore. I can go out and do things and not be punished for it for days on end by fevers and chills and vertigo.
Don't let a handful of transphobic assholes scare you. If this is your way forward, then live your life to its fullest.
My only regret is that I didn't have the chance to do this sooner.
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thebibliosphere · 1 year
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Hi there, ive come from your post about ADHD and emotional disregulation, firstly thank you so much for putting it into words, its such a complicated part of how i deal with emotions and i havent ever been able to articulate how to why.
Secondly, in that post you mentioned how you've used stress as a motivator and how eventually your stress regualtion broke, i was wondering if you'd be willing to talk about that? (If not, its not a problem)
I feel like the same thing has happened to me but until i read your post i had no idea that something had... snapped? I suppose? I struggle with motivation all the time and in the past id have a week or a few days left and id be able to suddently push myself very hard to complete whatever it is before the deadline, just barely making it in most cases. However now it seems that i can't find that motivation anymore, deadlines come and pass and i can't being myself to work on anything, and i just end up spiralling into shame and guilt. That motivation was the only thing that I was able to rely on sometimes for things like uni, and i conviced myself that it was just me growing lazy or trying to get out of responsibility as to why the "last minute panic-mode" doesnt work anymore.
Again, if you don't wanna tackle this can of worms or if it's something youd rather not post online i totally get it, its no biggie! thanks so much for making the original post as well, it means a lot
Hello friend, thanks for the message. I'm sorry you're also dealing with this.
The good news here is that I've already talked about this using the rubber band analogy my therapist gave me. (Stress is like a Rubber Band)
If you don't have the mental bandwidth to read all of it now, the tl;dr is "stress is like a rubber band; it can stretch to hold numerous things in place when you need to, but if you do it too often or keep adding more and more strain under the band, the elastic eventually becomes brittle and snaps, taking your mental and sometimes physical health with it too."
I've been in intensive therapy for this for roughly three years now, and trying to piece my brain back together after my last bout of stress-induced productivity gave me a total mental breakdown.
It's... odd not being able to use stress and having to actively avoid it to avoid a relapse. But it is doable. Medication would help, but alas, I've got weird health issues and am unmedicated at the minute.
(And just in case that sparks anyone to go, "Oh, you do all this unmedicated! Wow, that's so inspiring!" as sometimes parents do to me on here as they then tell me they don't want to medicate their kids, I've unfortunately also written a post about what that kind of success looks like from an unmedicated perspective and the kind of suicidal ideation I deal with on the regular because I cannot take meds. It is not pleasant reading, but it is necessary for some folks, specifically anti-med, "if you just tried harder" people.)
A book you may find helpful is Burnout: The Secret to Unlocking the Stress Cycle, by Emily and Amelia Nagoski. It was very validating for me to read about other people going through the same things, and made me feel less of a "this is a personal failing on my part" and more of a "Oh okay yeah, no stress literally breaks people."
It helped soothe some of my own internalized "I just need to try harder" and helped cement me on the path I was already going down with my ADHD therapist toward changing how I view myself and how I manage my ADHD.
I hope that helps! If you've got more specific questions or I didn't touch on something in my old post, I can try to answer them :)
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thewertsearch · 4 months
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CURRENT carcinoGeneticist [CCG] RIGHT NOW opened memo on board TEAM ADORABLOODTHIRSTY. […] CCG: THE BARD OF RAGE IS ON THE LOOSE.
Bard of Rage, eh?
I don't see how it matches his Land, but it's becoming abundantly clear that it does match him. It probably means that the murderous frenzy he's about to unleash is aspect-enhanced, just like Eridan's Hope Wand.
This, I'm fairly sure, is the first time we've ever heard of Rage. We have no idea how Gamzee weaponizes his Title - nor what boons it might grant him, now that he's fully embraced its Aspect. His powers are a complete unknown, and a Rage attack could take many forms.
CCG: HE'S COMPLETELY SNAPPED, AND FOR THOSE OF YOU FURTHER AHEAD ON THE TIMELINE, I DON'T HAVE TO TELL YOU HOW DANGEROUS HE IS. CCG: REMEMBER WHAT HE DID TO THE BLACK KING.
We didn't know there was something off about Gamzee, but the trolls did.
His power was only hidden from us, as we laughed at the funny dancing clown, completely unaware of what was under the surface. Who would suspect the juggalo parody of being dangerous?
CCG: NOBODY COULD EXPLAIN IT, AND THEN HE JUST WENT BACK TO SPACING OUT FOR THE REST OF THE BATTLE. CCG: I MEAN SERIOUSLY, WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT. CCG: I DON'T EVEN THINK THE KING COULD FUCKING BELIEVE IT, FRANKLY. CCG: DID ANYONE'S ATTACK DO AS MUCH DAMAGE? I DON'T THINK SO.
His power is definitely applicable in combat, then. This is just a guess, but maybe he can store and release his repressed emotional energy?
Perhaps there was a moment where all of Gamzee’s latent Rage was released at once - and for one awful second, it was aimed directly at the King.
CCG: I DON'T EVEN THINK VRISKA'S DID, ALTHOUGH IT'S HARD TO SAY SINCE THAT WAS THE KNOCKOUT BLOW.
Typical. That girl's a born kill-stealer.
CCG: I GUESS WE THOUGHT IT WAS LIKE A SECRET JOKE POWER OR SOMETHING?
Well, there’s no reason it couldn't be. The problem is, joke abilities are often extremely effective when used strategically. Do you really want to face someone who’s using their meme powers competently?
PTC: nOw wHaT ThE MoThEr fUcK WiLl i bE SuPpOsEd tO Do? PTC: i'M nOt FoLlOwInG. CCG: PAST GAMZEE, GOD DAMN IT. CCG: I AM TRYING TO WARN PEOPLE OF YOUR MURDEROUS FUTURE SELF. CCG: THIS PRACTICALLY DOESN'T EVEN HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH YOU. CCG: NOW GO BACK TO GROPING YOUR HORNS AND BEING DISTRACTED BY COLORS YOU USELESS FUCK.
Karkat, god damn it, you have to respect him now! His future self will remember this when he’s sober, and he’ll be coming for you!
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cyberkitty1 · 1 year
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pt 2/2 of the crybaby reader x earth42 Miles Morales
MAJOR MAJOR spoilers!! read with caution.
i said tomorrow night but I worked my butt off to get it done today!!
Aaron makes his way to Miles and room not even bothering to knock, I mean why would he? He just watched his nephew make his own girlfriend who would do anything for him cry. He was beyond furious.
“So now we are just going around making people cry?” Miles smirks at him “man I am literally the prowler? all i make people do is cry and beg for their life” he says almost laughing.
Aaron sighs pinching the bridge of his nose.” you are not supposed to let your job interfere with your normal life, you know that. Now you’re chasing your girl, the girl your supposed to love away? are you serious?”
Miles looks at him annoyed “ why wouls you care all she ever does is cry, shes happy she cries, shes mad she cries, shes sad she cries, man even when shes bored she cries. its annoying” he says holding his face in his hands.
Aaron walks to the bed and sits next to him. He’s never been put in this situation so he doesn’t know what to say. “ you’re dad was a lot better doing this than i ever was.” Miles visibly stiffens, this was the first time he’s brought up his dad since his funeral.
“ Miles I know you have been through a lot, more then i ever will but that doesn’t give you a reason to act that way towards her, she only wants whats best for you and she loves you with everything shes got. I would kill for a person like that to be in my life. I know you reacted like this because you feel you don’t have anyone to talk to but i’m always here man you know this.”
He wrapped an arm around his shoulder.” So don’t be taken your anger out on your girl she just loves you ok?” Miles sighs realizing, he was way to harsh in you you shouldn’t have been ignoring you and now he feels like a fool.
“ Yea, ill talk to her tomorrow” Aaron smiles, “ good I don’t need the only person who can get you to open up gone, now do i?” he says laughing a bit.
* Next Morning *
You didnt get a wink of sleep that night you where thinking about all the things you could have done to upset him that much. You werent mad just confused, confused as to why he would react that way. Of course you will still love him but this still hurt.
You were lost in thought when you realize someone texted you, it was Miles? You wasted no time to open it.
miles. can you come over later today?
you. yea
miles. dress comfortable
you were nervous, was he breaking up with you? You had no idea what to expect with how you guys left everything yesterday there was many directions this could go.
Hours later ( im lazy )
You got ready and made your way over to his place. Knocking on the door he answered “hola cariño ven conmigo” he helped you in with a warm smile taking your hand. Shutting the door behind you he led you into his bedroom sitting you down on his bed. He stood looking at you kind of nervous? he started:
“Voy a decir esto en español para que todo salga bien. Te amo mucho y siento mucho haberte tratado de una manera que nunca te mereces. Lamento haberte hecho llorar y haberte hecho sentir que hiciste algo mal. Todo lo que haces es amarme y tratarme bien, pero yo te traté como si no me importara. Y por eso lo siento mucho y espero que lo encuentres en tu corazón para perdonarme.”
(I'm going to say this in Spanish so that everything goes well. I love you very much and I am so sorry that I treated you in a way that you never deserve. I'm sorry I made you cry and made you feel like you did something wrong. All you do is love me and treat me right, but I treated you like I didn't care. And for that I am very sorry and I hope that you find it in your heart to forgive me.)
You waited and listened to him through and through and when he was done you spoke. “ Miles I will forever love you, you know that. I know that you are going through something but why didn’t you tell me? why don’t you talk to me? why wont you let me in?” you said holding his hands.
“No quería que pensaras menos en mí, que me consideraras débil.” You look at him sympathetically “ Miles I would never, never ever think of you as weak ok? Whenever you need me I will be there with you, I love you miles so much.” and with that, you were crying.
(“I didn't want you to think less of me, to consider me weak.”)
“mi princesa por favor no llores odio cuando lloras” he said wiping your tears away “ I know and i’m sorry that i’m always crying about everything i know it annoys you” you say sniffling. He feeling you pulling at his heart strings, feeling the worse he has felt since his father’s passing.
("My princess please don't cry I hate when you cry"’)
“ahora me tienes a punto de llorar mami, te quiero mucho y me arrepiento de haberte dicho que te encontré una llorona. Nunca debí haberte dicho eso, eres mi todo, ¿lo sabías? Debería disculparme contigo, lamento haberte tratado de esa manera, ¿me perdonarías?” He said with tears in his eyes.
(“Now you have me about to cry mommy, I love you very much and I regret having told you that I found you a crybaby. I never should have told you that, you are my everything, you know that? I should apologize to you, I'm sorry I treated you that way, would you forgive me?")
You held his face looking into his eyes with so much adoration. “ Miles I will forever love you, I forgive you, I will forgive you ten times over.” You said resting your head on his. After a few minutes he wipes his tears saying “ I forgot I wanted you to watch a movie with me if you forgave me.” You smile at him giving him a kiss.
“ Thank you Miles,i appreciate it all.” he sighs “ Ma, stop saying stuff like that I need to be saying sorry to you” he says looking you in your eyes.
And with that he sits on his bed back against the headboard with you tucked into his side, eating snacks and watching your favorite movies.
( this or this )
He suddenly turns to you and says “te amo mas que la cantidad de estrellas en el cielo” he says looking into your eyes. You turn to him resting your hand ok his face, hearing your voice that sounds like honey.
("I love you more than the number of stars in the sky")
“yo tambien te amo mi principe”
( "I love you too my prince")
Part 3 of the earth 42 Miles spoiling you will be done as soon as I can 🙏🏾
A/n: overlook the fact that i spelt honey as hunny 😔 ( its changed now)
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mintmatcha · 7 months
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cw: baby, cisfem reader who recently gave birth
He has your eyes, you think. It's hard to tell. The baby is still in its squished phase, curled in on himself and grasping at whatever comes close. Closer to grub than human, you think. His cheeks are still ruddy from crying, but his glassy eyes have finally started to close and he sinks into sleep in your arms. With all of the care you can muster, you take the baby and ease him into the crib, praying that he doesn't wake again.
When he stays silent, you ease back away from the crib and back carefully out of the door. You close the door carefully and sigh as you relish the first moment alone you've had all day-- and then you burst into tears yourself.
"What's wrong?"
Ushijima stands at the top of the stairs, shedding his jacket where he stands. You're almost embarrassed for him to see you like this, disheveled and frankly dirty, your maternity bra undone. He's been your husband for years now, he's seen worse, but this feels worse. His brow is knotted with worry, eyes stone strong as ever as he watches you sniffle. When he steps in, arms outstretched, you step aside, giving way for him to see his baby. Instead, your husband comes to you. Wide hands cup your shoulders, thumbs rubbing up and down a bit too roughly to be comforting.
"Are you alright?"
You nod, lip quivering as you bite back your tears. He inspects you closely, brow raised.
"Are you lying?"
You nod again before bursting into sobs again. It's an ugly cry, all snot and coughs, but your husband doesn't pull away. Instead, he tugs you closer, tight into his chest.
"Tell me." Wakatoshi urges as gently as he can. At first, all you can be is blubber, every exhausted emotion coming to the surface at once. You're tired, you're thirsty, you're seventy other emotions that you can't pin down, but the one that comes out of your mouth first is:
"I'm a bad mom."
"Don't say that," he's quick to say.
"I am." His shirt is wet with tears, but you can't stop. "I'm so tired and thirsty and my boob really hurts and I'm not making enough milk- and, and--"
"I was supposed to love him, Toshi, and I just don't."
Ushijima chuckles, softly enough that you can't hear it, but you can feel how his chest shakes.
"It's not funny!"
"You do love him."
Of course you do. You wanted him more than anything in the world. Years of patience and love brought you this baby, and you wouldn't trade that for the world-
But it's just not what you had expected.
"Not the way I'm supposed to!" You pull back just enough to meet his eye. His brown hair is still mussed with sweat from his game. "It was supposed to be instant and special and perfect, but--"
You swallow down your rising panic and glance back at the door.
"I'm not connecting with him," you admit. You love your son, but he's just a baby. All he does is sleep, eat, and cry. There's no special spark about him, nothing that would make you lift a car or die in his honor. It's hard to feel anything when you're so exhausted.
"I think I'm broken."
Ushijima processes this for a long while, the rub of his thumbs much slower now.
"It's not the same," he says quietly. "But, I've never easily connected with anyone, not even you."
It's true. Ushijima is a good man, but he struggles socially to this day. He turns down outings that he isn't interested in, misses social ques and norms, and can be rude without meaning to.
And yet, people still manage to grow warm to him. Hell, you fell in love with the man after months of despising him.
"That does make me feel better."
"Give it time." He pats your back. "I'll take you to the doctor tomorrow."
"I don't need a doctor, I just need time."
He reaches down and grazss over the bare skin if your tit; you had forgotten it was out. "Your breast is hot to the touch. I can feel it through my shirt."
You pull back and feel for yourself. It is uncomfortably warm; you'd been so distressed that you hadn't noticed. That explains the pain.
"We can't. The baby's too little to bring to the doctor's-- there's too many germs, he'll get sick."
"Tendou will babysit," he replies, like it's simple.
"He lives hours away."
Ushijima's already pulling out his phone. "He will come. Go rest and eat- I'll handle everything tonight."
Coming from him, everything sounds so easy. You're frazzled over the fact you reached such a boiling point; does anyone else struggle like this? Or is it just you?
"Are you sure I'm not a bad mom?" You ask again.
He looks back at you and nods, a smile tight on his lips. "Of course I am."
You believe him.
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yandere-romanticaa · 1 year
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With a sigh, Welt tore away another piece of paper from his sketchbook, unsatisfied with his latest creation. The pencil in his hand trembled as he gripped the piece of wood so tightly it could almost be shattered to bits if he wasn't careful. Turning his head towards the clock he checked to see the time - it was close to midnight, most of the crew was either fast asleep or they shut themselves in their rooms, making sure to do whatever they needed to do quietly and not disturb anyone on board at such a late hour. He sat up, the wooden chair scraping against the floor as he put the sketchbook back on the table along with the pencil he nearly demolished by accident. With the reach of his hand he went straight for the handle and opened the door, the soft clicking of his shoes being met with the pavement on the other side.
The only source of light in the dark corridor was the infinite sea of stars which were on his left side, said stars taunting him to take a peek throughout the window and bask in their beauty.
Opening the door for the parlor car Welt saw Pom-Pom in the room, the tiny critter having its back turned away from the man. Welt made sure to mutter a "good evening" as he made his way towards the leather seats but Pom-Pom jumped at the sudden greeting, its ears rising high in the air as it accidentally let out a tiny yelp of surprise. Covering its mouth in embarrassment, Pom-Pom huffed and stomped its feet on the ground.
"Welt! Do not sneak up on me like that!"
Welt had a flat look on his face as he stared down at Pom-Pom, a glimmer of sorry just barely visible in his eyes.
"I am sorry, Pom-Pom. I'll be more careful next time." said Welt as he fixed his glasses. He sat down on the plush seat, making himself comfortable while doing nothing in particular. Welt's mind seemed to be elsewhere but Pom-Pom could tell that something was off about the man tonight. His jaw was tense, lips pressed too tight and he was looking too far up ahead, clearly lost in some other dimension. At first Pom-Pom decided to give him some space but as it let the silence settle, the more Pom-Pom got disturbed. Welt was a quiet person by nature but the energy he was radiating off tonight was beyond off-putting. Checking the clock, Pom-Pom saw that almost an hour had passed since Welt stepped foot into the main parlor car and the man was not doing anything.
He was not drawing, tinkering with something, reading, hell Pom-Pom would be happy if Welt would suddenly start break dancing out of the blue, just something to break the tension. Crossing its arms, Pom-Pom walked towards Welt and asked him with zero hesitation:
"Welt, what is wrong with you?"
This question brought Welt back down to the ground as his soft brown eyes widened ever so slightly. Just what was he doing? He... He wasn't sure either. He could not sleep, not with-
"You're thinking about (y/n), aren't you?"
Welt felt himself choke on the air he inhaled as he heard Pom-Pom mutter a little I knew it! under its breath. Gasping for air, Welt pressed Pom-Pom for more questions as to just how it knew what was on his mind.
"You aren't as subtle as you think you are mister." teased Pom-Pom, a tiny grin on its face. Welt felt his cheeks heat up at the provocation but decided not to take the bait. Pom-Pom placed its tiny paw on Welt's knee, the warmth spreading fast as Welt looked down and saw Pom-Pom's concerned gaze.
"Keeping such feelings isn't good for your body or soul. You should do something about that."
Pom-Pom was right. Welt really should do something about his feelings.
But what?
Just what in the devil was he supposed to do? At the mere sight of (y/n) his heart would speed up at an alarming rate, so much so that he almost passed out on several occasions. He can still feel the soft touch of (y/n)'s hand against his cheeks, worry etched onto their face as they checked to see if Welt was okay. The man would always, without fail, grit his teeth and power through it with a smile, reassuring (y/n) that he was indeed fine and that he might have taken a sip of Himeko's coffee by accident. Yes, that was what made him feel ill, not the boiling hot jealousy that was slowly taking over his entire being as he watched the way in which everyone in the express got close to you.
Welt was more than a little ashamed of these resentful feelings. After all, everyone on the express had pure intentions, he had nothing to worry about. And yet, whenever he would see March scoot next to you and start taking pictures he would always make sure to stand in the frame which would in turn, annoy March beyond belief. He made sure to always check those photos, his gaze glued onto your smiling or bamboozled face, only then would the prickly thorns around his beating heart settle.
The same could not be said whenever he saw you alone with Dang Heng or Himeko. Just what were you doing with Dang Heng, all alone locked in the archives? There was no way you were just going through the files, the nights could get long and boring after all... and whenever he would see you the next morning, a smile plastered on your face his mind could not help but wander.
Himeko did little to soothe his worries as well as the woman would have her arms around you constantly, be it your thighs, hair, waist, literally anything she could possibly grab.
...why couldn't he be so casual? He was tired of always being swept by the sidelines. At the end of the day, Welt was nothing more than a man.
But that night, he decided to take Pom-Pom's advice to heart, but, perhaps not quite yet. The thorns around his heart would cease the second he saw you once more.
He really could just stare at you forever and die a happy man. He just wished no one could enjoy your radiance too.
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Atsushi: Why would you ever save me, Dustyevsky?
Fyodor: Well it’s….What did you just call me?
Atsushi: Your name.
Fyodor: That is most certainly not my name and you know it. I am Fyodor Dostoyevsky and you will refer to me as such.
Atsushi: Sure thing Fjord (fyord) Oyevsky.
Fyodor: Is this anyway to treat your saviour?
Atsushi: deadpan Dazai saved me and I call him an unfinished mummy. Your point?
Fyodor: Funny you should mention Dazai because I killed him.
Atsushi: Ha, no you didn’t.
Fyodor: Excuse me?
Atsushi: Oh right you’re Russian aren’t you?
Atsushi repeats his sentence but in Russian.
Fyodor: How do you know…never mind. You have such faith in your colleague, and yet the rest are gone so why not him?
Atsushi becomes serious.
Atsushi: Because they were killed by something the mind can’t comprehend. With a blade that bends space and time to its will. Wielded by someone who was already a god of war back when he had human skin. That kind of power is immeasurable.
He shakes his head amused.
Atsushi: But you? Someone who puts himself ontop to hide how small he truly is. Your paper crown might’ve fooled you into thinking you’re something, but your not. Someone like you couldn’t even dream of killing Dazai.
Fyodor: Why you…You’ll pay for that.
Atsushi laughs, cold and bitter.
Atsushi: What are you going to do, kill me? We both know you want me alive. Torture me? There’s nothing you can do to me that I haven’t felt 100 times worse. And besides, nothing will hurt more than this.
Fyodor: You seem so certain. As if you’re the one in control here.
Atsushi: Let me tell you something, Feather duster-
Fyodor: That wasn’t even close!
Atsushi: I’m terrified. Terrified of losing my friends, of being alone more than I already am. I’m terrified of letting them down. But you know what I’m not scared of, you.
Fyodor: You will be.
Atsushi: No I won’t. Because all I feel for you is hate. I hate you. I hate you more than I’ve hated anyone else. I hate you so much it actually scares me. And once I figure it out, I’m going to make what you’ve done to me feel like a nice little dream.
Fyodor: And what makes you think you can do that?
Atsushi: Because you lied about Dazai. Meaning you lost to him and that little show earlier, wasn’t planned. Your plan was over before it began. Losing control, being outsmarted yet again. Admit it, you’re just as scared as I am.
Fyodor: You know nothing.
Atsushi: Maybe. But what I do know is that you will never get that book. And once you realise that it’ll drive you mad. Because that’s the thing about men like you, you lose one game and you fall apart.
Fyodor: We shall see, but for the record there are no men like me.
Atsushi: There are always men like you. And in every story I’ve read they always lose.
Fyodor: Suppose you’re right. What if I take you down with me?
Atsushi: Than I’d say you don’t know me at all if you think that scares me.
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cattlemons · 1 month
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When The Tide Returns Lost Memories
| Wriothesley awakens in a foreign land with fragmented memories and a desperate need to return to someone he can't quite remember.
TW: Memory loss, unspecified violence, not proofread, 4k words of hurt and comfort
a.n. saw this post by @cyb-rdva about this fic idea. I just got a buzz and felt like writing it! I don't really know how permissions work on here but I hope I did it justice!
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Wriothesley’s eyes find the crippling light as he squints away the last remaining darkness, pushing it to the back of his mind once more. Finally feeling himself take a breath, he hears himself grunt awake; much like a machine starting up after months of disuse. Creaking and clanking to a sitting position, he feels the cracks of his bones and the bruises of his injuries sting him.
Where am I?
Disoriented beyond belief, he let his eyes collect a view of his surroundings. The gears of his brain churned and turned but, to no avail, he’s completely lost on where he is. Panic seized him as his parched throat let out a hoarse yell– he doesn’t know who exactly he was trying to reach out to but, dear archons, let them be nice.
The door opened just as he finally found enough strength to stand. Training his eyes onto the green-headed figure by the door, his focus was sharp despite the delirium he had experienced not long ago; the tendons of his feet ready to leap like a coiled spring waiting for the undoing. 
The green-haired man placed his two palms out, ducking ever so slightly to make himself look as small and harmless as possible. Wriothesley assessed the situation with the sense of a trained warrior, looking the man up and down before releasing his tightly clenched fists, letting the white fade to a warm red. 
Wait a second!
Wriothesley pounced at the tall man and knocked him over to the ground, the thud of their fall resounding throughout the room. His knuckles which are covered with hidden bruises and healed cuts saw the light of day after a long time being hidden. Choking the man, Wriothesley sneered and gruffed, “Where’s my gauntlet, NOW! WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO DO?”
The man flailed helplessly beneath him as he clawed at his bound neck, searching for escape. Before anything else could unfold, both men were pulled apart; the lanky man by a man in Liyuean garment and Wriothesley by a purple child.
What the fuck is going on?? SHIT, WHERE IS SHE? I NEED TO FIND HER! I NEED TO TELL HER...!
Huh? Who? Tell her what?
The child made some sort of listless remark but Wriothesley was not aware of what she said. His ears rang deafeningly as his vision wavered. His consciousness was escaping him and his panic and fight whittled down and numbed itself, leaving a sense of nothing in its wake. He can’t help but mourn if this is to be his last moment of living. What kind of defeat was this? Surely, he deserved a better battle to die on. 
His mind winds down slowly, unfinished strings of thoughts urging him along from what topic to the next before gently placing him right on the edge of consciousness. Dreary and barely awake, he wonders if anyone can hear his last words and wishes. If he could, he would’ve chuckled dryly, even now on his deathbed (or rather death-floor) he is still nothing but an orphaned boy with no one to mourn for him. Dust returns to dust, he supposes.
As he feels his eyes wane to a close, the only thing on his mind is a name with a face left unplaced and undecided, oh how he loved her.
WAIT! WHO? HOLD ON!
He was out cold, now. 
The second time he awoke, Wriothesley was ready for a fight. Whatever foul play, or trickery used on him that first time, won’t get him twice. Raring to go, Wriothesley opened his eyes wide and ready to jump into a fighting stance, only to be stopped by a pair of cuffs chaining him to the bed.
Something! He needs to find SOMETHING?!
Controlling his uneven breaths, he forced and willed the adrenaline pumping in his veins to subside; there’s no use for it if he’s bound and alone, anyway. For now, he chose to focus on locating where he was and (more importantly) where his gauntlets were. Sure, the normal man can’t hope to survive a fight against him but something within him is anxious to be away from it. He almost feels physically ill without it. 
Damned wrist decorator causing me separation anxiety. Just like a damned dog.
At the sound of a creak, he snapped his neck towards the open door. Behind the heavy timber, stood the green-haired man he has yet to learn the name of (but rest assured if he’s come for a round two, Wriothesley is ready to choke him; this time to sleep). Fortunately for everyone in the vicinity, the man had no ill will. With the patience of a saint, the man stepped into the room, carrying with him a bruised neck and a handful of medication supplies. 
Setting his things down on a table, he watched Wriothesley with calm eyes. The same cannot be said for Wriothesley whose sharp steel irises were pointed at him. Muscles rippling in tandem, Wriothesley pulled at the cuffs that kept him in place. Truth be told, the steel keeping him bound to the bed may just snap in a few more strong pulls had the child from “yesterday” not stepped in, this time clearly brandishing a syringe swirling with translucent liquid. 
That shut him up quickly. 
Relatively calm now (and sedated), the thin man slowly inched closer to Wriothesley, pushing back his glasses from his nose while at it. With a slightly quicker heart pace, he explained in a rushed tone, “I am Baizhu, a local physician of Liyue and owner of The Bubu Pharmacy. We’re located in Liyue Harbor. We found you unconscious outside our pharmacy so we decided to take you in.”
This “Baizhu” figure looked to his side at the small purple child as if to see whether or not he’d forgotten something. The two seem to be close because without missing a beat, the child showed him a page of her book. This seemed to jog the man’s memory as he continued, “Ah, yes. Your weapons and, ahem, gauntlets are in our safekeeping. They were badly damaged so we were worried the bones hidden underneath weren’t fairing all too well, either, please don’t misunderstand.”
Taking his words in, Wriothesley felt a slight bit of guilt for almost beating the guy up. The man, however, doesn’t seem to be waiting for an apology, rather, his eyes gleamed in a sort of curiosity. Wriothesley supposes he would be the same way if the situation had been flipped and this Baizhu man showed up half-dead at the doors of Meropide.
Wait, Meropide! Shit, MEROPIDE!
“Sir, how long have I been here?! Please, answer me!”
Baizhu’s eyebrows scrunched in slight perplexity and hesitation, he wasn’t too keen on agitating the man again. 
“Well, we found you on the sixth and today’s the nineteenth, so, about two weeks. Yes,” he answered, stepping away, in case the mild sedation was, indeed, too mild a dose. 
Shit! That’s way too long for me to be away! I won’t be surprised if the place is in shambles by now. Fuck, I need to get back! I NEED TO GET BACK! IS SHE OKAY? I NEED TO APOLOGIZE!
To whom?
Fighting against the effects of the syringe, Wriothesley tensed his forearms and willed them to move. Against his better judgment, Baizhu saw this and went to undo the locks of his cuffs. He supposes, that if he’s going to break through the chains, might as well take it off him to prevent any further injury. 
“Though I am uncuffing you, sir, I suggest you take it easy in the meantime. You have a long list of blunt traumas all over you and from the looks of it, your memory isn’t too intact. I don’t know what happened to you or where you want to rush off to with your weapons but I would be an unfit physician if I allowed you to go anywhere outside my supervision for the time being. At least, let me help you remember so I can send you off with a clear mind on your shoulders.”
“Please, just calm down, when I release you, alright… there...”
Arms now freed, Wriothesley calmed down significantly; somewhere in his mind, he felt safer knowing he could beat someone to a pulp if need be. Finally feeling safe enough to be civil, he decided he’d stay long enough to get some answers and his weapon and memory back. Wriothesley knew it’d be best to stay. He can’t be so sure he’ll find a physician who knows enough of their field of study to claim they can help bring back his foggy memories. That said, he won’t be wasting any time. 
“Mr. Baizhu, please tell me what you know about my… umm… predicament. I don’t quite enjoy being puzzled this way. Also, the gauntlets, I want them back,” he said, before quickly pasting a ‘please’ behind his sentence. 
Yes, she always liked it better when I’m civil; like a proper duke. She?
Wriothesley wasn’t sure what was going on with him at the moment. Everything’s in disarray and he can’t help but want to rip the tufts of gray out of his head. Nothing is making sense to him. The memories and facts that should be concretely sealed within the wrinkles of his brain are now fluttering in front of him. Try as he may, they flit just out of his reach. He only hopes his memories come back to him quickly so he can somehow get back to wherever he needs to be to get to whoever she is to do whatever it is he needs to do.
This is truly shit.
Meanwhile, you were running up and down the underground prison and makeshift factory to make sure it, ironically, stayed afloat. In all honesty, all you wanted to do was cry and wail at your husband’s disappearance. Yes, disappearance. Though you’ve heard many relegate their condolences to you, you accepted none of it. You were sure he was alive somewhere out there; he just needed to come back home. 
Some may say it’s denial but acceptance simply wasn’t the answer right now. Not when the livelihood of thousands of people rely on your emotional stability to ensure proper functions of this prison they call home. Meropide is counting on you to keep yourself together so acceptance truly isn’t needed right now; not when acceptance would mean falling to your knees as you plan funeral arrangements. No, as long as hope is free, the man you call your husband is alive.
Today’s to-do list is a mile and a half long but it all needs doing so that’s exactly what you’re going to spend your time and elbow grease on. You started your day at the break of dawn when the waters were still moving in compliance with the moon’s pull. The dull thud of the waves against the steel prison walls keeps you grounded as you check off your lover’s duties one by one. Noon soon takes hold as the water calms down relatively, now giving way to the clanks of machinery. The resounding clicks and clacks of tools and shoes signify that all was still in order. Night finally came and the mile-long list has been taken care of, well mostly. Last but not least, you’ll have to surface and meet with someone very important. 
After throwing on whatever clean and acceptable outfit you find within your closet in the duke’s Meropide residence, you are off to Poisson to meet with Navia. You sure hope she’s found something useful. 
At moments like this, you’re grateful for your long-standing friendship with the ever-kind and well-connected President of The Spina di Rosula. Navia has been spearheading the search for your husband for the past few weeks. She turned the whole of Fontaine upside down last week but it yielded no results. Though Spina di Rosula is an organization built to help with Fontanian problems, you’re glad she spared no effort to search beyond the borders of Fontaine for you.
“I just don’t know where he could have gone, Navia. One minute we fought and before you know it the clock strikes midnight and it’s the second day he’s gone,” you let out as your chest starts heaving, a poor effort to hold back the sorrow and fear you felt. 
“Navia, I can’t let that be the last interaction we have, I just… I can’t live not knowing if he’s done with me or, worse, if something bad happened to him. I just want to know he’s alright and then, if he so wishes, we can part ways.”
Navia pats your back gently as your breathing grows heavier, “I don’t know the duke all that much but I know enough to say that he’s mad for you. He’d kill for you just as quickly as he’d die for you, my dear. Give him credit that he’ll return, if only to see and make amends with you, hmm?”
Your throat is raw from keeping the dam of your rising emotions from spilling. You turned to your sole companion in all this, “Are you sure, we’ll find him, Navia?”
“All the signs we’ve found so far indicate him being alive. As long as that duke of yours is on Teyvat, we’ll find him, my dear partner, I am sure of it,” she cheered softly, conviction intertwined with a strong dose of compassion. 
With that, tears soak your face as you cry softly. Your shoulders shook as rivulets of sorrow trickle past your lashes onto your cheeks. You couldn’t possibly let them out in Meropide so you let them out here. Within the confines of the four walls of Poisson, you let your walls crumble if only for a bit. 
You hope he comes back to you soon. You don’t know what you’d do without him. 
— 
“Do you recall anything at all before your waking,” Baizhu asked Wriothesley for the umpteenth time since his wake from the sedation-induced stupor. 
The two figures, Wriothesley and Baizhu, were sitting outside the pharmacy doing a routine inspection. For the past week, Wriothesley has been fairly cooperative in working with Baizhu to further his recuperation; if only to get his gauntlet back and return quicker to Meropide and to the missing woman his heart claims to love so much.
Wriothesley still has no clue as to what his sense of urgency is based on. Of course, the meropide needs him but in the event of his absence, he’s set aside some protocols and second-in-commands that can take up the mantle for a bit before his return. This is something he recalled a few days ago and it’s helped him ease up and stay put for the time being. The exercises Baizhu has given him are certainly giving promising results on jogging his memory back but, much to his dismay, none about the mystery woman. It’s eating his heart up like a worm on an apple, plaguing his heart and making him feel rotten for forgetting her. 
Who are you, damn it.
Damn, even cursing at her feels wrong. 
Alright, let him fix that-
FIX… FIX!
Just like that, the memories of the weeks prior come crashing onto him like the waves of the midnight tides. All that he’s been through, getting knocked out, the fight, everything filters through his mind like an hourglass finally filling up. Despite all of those moments being mostly shit, he’s overjoyed of remembering what he thought he lost, of remembering you.
By Archons, it’s you!
“Baizhu! That’s it! I need to see her, I need to see my girl! Oh, for the life of me, Baizhu, I need to apologize to MY GIRL,” Wriothesley yelled, joyous. 
He does not recall ever being so excited to apologize but he’d be damned if anything wipes the smile off of his face. How can he not? Imagine falling in love all over again with the woman that’s captured your very being. Imagine seeing her in the fresh light of a stranger only wishing to be within her gravity then realizing you were the moon pulling her tides of love all along. Imagine, oh archons, that can fucking wait. 
He’s leaving now!
Baizhu smiles at the breakthrough, both of his patient’s memory and of a new memory recovery technique. Calling for Qiqi, Baizhu asks her to get the man’s big boy hands because, yes, we’re finally letting him go home. No, without the sedation. 
On the ferry ride back, the duke sat painfully still as he stared at the gauntlets that he now wore. The gauntlets that symbolizes his power in Meropide, the ones you've basically created with him now that he remembers your significance in his life. No wonder he can't bear to part with it.
Suddenly, the vast blue separating Liyue and Fontaine seems not enough time now that his thoughts finally catch up to him.
Of course, he was beyond ecstatic to see the love of his life again but thinking back to how he left things off… he shudders at the thought. He’s downright shit for leaving this mess for you to shoulder on your own, not to mention, the fight that went down before he disappeared. 
If the roles were reversed, he doesn't know if he’ll ever function properly again. He left you after saying some nasty things and did not return. Not even after two weeks, in fact, it took him three. He wonders if you’re mad at him still or if you’ve fully given up on him. He wonders if you think he left you for good on his own accord. He hopes your heart hasn’t been damaged beyond repair. He knows he’ll do a lot worse to himself if it is. 
He just hopes you haven’t completely locked him out of your heart forever because if you haven’t fully closed the doors on him, if he even sees a sliver of forgiveness in your eyes, he’ll lay his everything down in hopes of winning you back.
Wait for me, please, my love.
The ocean’s gentle rhythm is the only lullaby strong enough to lure your restless heart and mind to sleep. You can’t imagine being able to rest if you were anywhere else. At least not after the stagnation of your search for your husband. It would’ve been one thing if it were slow progress but there’s nothing else to be found now. Last you heard, there were sightings of a seemingly Fontanian man in Liyue but before anyone could get ahold of him, he disappeared again. You suppose it makes full sense that a man with his extensive knowledge of the underground world and wide connections would slip away easily, after all this is well within his expertise. That’s what you chose to believe, anyway.
The murmurs of the sea continue drumming constant beats as your eyes flutter shut. You hope that this time they bring you to a distant land where all is well; where your husband is still beside you and he still looks at you like you hung the stars just for him. 
Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, heavy clunking and ruckus were heard outside by the registrar of the Meropide. Soon, a crowd began to form as doors were opened and gates were unlocked, in came the man of the hour. 
The duke is back.
Doors were flung open as the duke marched in, passing by the stunned prisoners of the Meropide. There were rumors abuzz that the duke had fled, of course, his sentence was served to fulfillment so, technically, he did not flee. The spicy part of this scandal was that his wife was left stranded and alone to deal with the mess he’s left. Truth be told, this wasn’t so far from the truth in Wriothesley’s heart. 
Opening the massive steel doors to his residence, Wriothesley whispered prayers. With every step he climbed, he murmured a small prayer and promise of devotion to whichever Celestia deity would grant him your patience and forgiveness. Perhaps, however, he should’ve been whispering his promises of devotion to you instead. 
Like seeing a mirage in a barren desert of swirling guilt and longing, you lay there asleep but so very beautiful. The rise and fall of your chest fills him with ease as the scent of your perfume grows stronger with each step he takes toward you. His eyes begin to water as his feet grow heavy, it seems his heart grew to immense proportions just at seeing you within touching distance. 
He reaches your side and kneels to be at level with your sleeping face. He studies you, slowly memorizing all the things he wishes to never forget. He engraves into his mind, the dips of your cupid’s bow and the flick at the end of your nose. He etches into the crevices of his brain the way your eyelashes flutter just so slightly at whatever it is you sense. Finally, he allows himself to fully sink into your hypnotic gaze as your eyelids lift ever so slightly to reveal his favorite colors. He wishes to have those exact shades enshroud him forever.
The moment you open your eyes, you can’t help but smile, though you remain unmoving. 
How lovely! They did bring you good dreams. 
“My… after so long of not seeing you, I must’ve forgotten how many scars you have,” you giggled lightly as your eyes counted his scars one by one, hoping to update your foggy memory.
You smile as you continue, “two new ones over your left eyebrow and one down your neck. Even in my dreams, you’re still as rugged as ever. I guess it’s my fault for falling in love with a man so magnetized by fights. I love you that way, though. Don’t change.”
Wriothesley could only sit in pious silence as he followed your gaze, he never wanted to part from it.
“My love, why don’t you take me to where you are? I never want to wake up if this is what sleeping is like. I don’t mind remembering new scars that never happened if only to stay with you like this,” you whispered lowly as your hands went out to reach for his cheeks. 
It’s impulsive and you knew the moment his form revealed its corporeal quality, he’d fade away from even your dreams and you’d be left alone again but you just… you just had to. He compels you in a way that no one ever has and ever could. Even if only in this second, you wish to believe he’s just within reach. 
Just like you remember him to be.
Wriothesley closed his eyes as he awaited your warmth. He can’t possibly move an inch or say a word when the atmosphere is filled and doused with your affection and love. He just can’t. If anything, he leans in almost antsy with anticipation. 
But your touch never came. 
Wriothesley opens his eyes to see tears falling down your face and your hands just a hair's breadth away from his cheeks. The droplets stained the carpet beneath him along with his heart.
Breaking piece by piece, his heart shatters as more tears fall from the corner of your eyes; even more when you begin to speak.
“Wriothesley, if I don’t touch you, will you stay? Even as a memory, will you continue to be mine? Or will my mind take that away from me too?”
His heart sank as he watched his love break before him. Not standing for this anymore, he pulled your face closer to his and sealed your lips onto his, claiming this moment as real. 
You cried into the kiss letting every single feeling and emotion you’ve pent up run free. Wriothesley pulled you into him and held you as close as he physically could. He wants to absorb every piece of you into his heart to make sure he never has to part from you ever again. He’s selfish and he keeps ahold of you even after your lips part from his. 
He kisses every inch of your skin to make sure you know he’s here, to make sure he knows you’re here.
Pure, unadulterated love encapsulates his mind as he holds you close, afraid he might lose you again if he lets go. 
As the minutes faded into hours, Wriothesley murmured into your ears the undying poetry of his love for you, unyielding and true. Even if you don’t believe him right now, that’s alright. He’ll keep reminding you of it.
Every second of every minute.
Every minute of every hour.
And every hour of every damned day.
All until you remember it. 
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a.n. This is a long one and I just kinda word vomit onto my laptop for a few hours and then bam it's right there. Please be gentle, I don't think I was all that awake for this banger!
Hope it's a good read!
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unemployedhockeyfan · 3 months
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Not All Breakups Are Equal Pt. 2
Summary: Lando and Eloise deal with the fallout of their friendship after Eloise left Lando standing in his Monaco apartment.
Warnings: angst I guess and I'm pretty sure just one swear word
Notes: Hi! Thanks for the support on part one!! Sorry it took a few days for this part. I write for my adult job, too, so sometimes I'm just a little too worn out to write after work.
[2.33k]
Part 1
The days in New York are easy. Daily life is just fast enough that I don’t even have the opportunity to think of the friendship breakup that’s constantly trying to pull at my heart. 
Days are nothing compared to nights. 
New York has seemingly earned its title of “The City That Never Sleeps.” I wish I could say it’s because I make my nights as fast paced as my days, but that would be one of the biggest lies I’ve ever told — second only to all the years I told myself I didn’t love Lando… At least not that way. 
My nights are filled with little to no sleep as I toss and turn in the bed squished into the tiny hotel room. All that fills my brain is his smile, his laugh and the look on his face as I walked out the door of his apartment. 
I never want to forget the smile or the laugh, but that last look is one I wish wasn’t burned into my brain. 
It’s been three weeks since I last saw or talked to Lando. He’s since won his first race in Formula 1. 
A race I wasn’t there for. 
I was supposed to be. I had a pass and in all honesty, I could’ve still shown up. If I did, though, I would’ve fallen back into the same pattern as before. The people-pleasing nature of my personality would’ve come out and I would’ve continued to let Lando’s new girlfriend talk ill about me. 
My mind was overflowing with the memories I had of watching Lando celebrate in Miami while I sat 1,200 miles north. I knew I wasn’t going to sleep tonight. At least not anymore than the three hours I had already barely managed. 
As I rolled over to grab my phone off the nightstand, the cheap digital clock was shining 3:30 a.m. 
“Hm, Max is probably up by now. I can call him,” was the initial thought that crossed my mind. 
Max wasn’t necessarily thrilled when he found out that my plane ticket landed me across the Atlantic Ocean, but he got over it relatively quickly when he found out I had friends from university in the area. 
It took a while, but the line finally connected, welcoming me to one of the most comforting voices in my life. 
“Eloise, long time no hear.”
“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. I’ve been busy.”
“Really? Or are you just lying to me?” Max always seemed to be able to read my mind, no matter how much I wished he couldn’t.
“It’s a half lie. The days have been busy, the nights are just restless.”
“Yeah, I bet.”
The silence lasted for a few moments too long. It allowed Max just enough time to steer the conversation in a direction I was trying to avoid. 
“He misses you, Elle.”
“I saw his win in Miami. He looked happy. I couldn’t help but watch.”
“He wanted you there.”
I know Max is telling the truth. He has no reason to lie, and I know that truthfully Lando didn’t want me to leave his apartment just over a month ago, but I did. 
“You should call him, not me.”
“It depends, Max” 
“On what? Whether or not he’s broken up with his girlfriend?”
“Actually, exactly that.”
“I thought you told him you were OK if they were dating as long as she was nicer to you,” Max pushed back. 
“I am, I just don’t think she’s capable of changing in just a few weeks.” 
My voice was getting louder and I didn’t really want to take my anger out on Max. He hadn’t done anything wrong — maybe just pushed the wrong button or two. 
We sat in silence, the only noise being our breathing on either end of the line. It lasted well over a minute before I let out an exaggerated sigh. I was not only going to come clean to Max, but to myself as well. 
“Max, it's just… It’s hard and it hurts,” I said as my eyes slowly started to leak fresh tears. 
“I know, Eloise, I know. I don’t think anyone is expecting it to be easy for you or for him.”
“No, Max, I don’t just mean distancing myself from him. It’s hard to even be around him nowadays when I see how he treats other girls when all I want is for him to treat me that way.”
The pause in the conversation was deafening. With the phone pressed to my ear, I waited for Max to say something, to say anything. 
“Max?”
“Well, it’s about time you admitted it to yourself,” he said with a rather large chuckle.
“Stop, this isn’t funny.”
I was laughing too, though. I couldn’t stop. Maybe it was the lack of sleep or the fact that for the first time in a month I felt comfortable in my surroundings, but I laughed for a good three minutes before Max’s voice finally came through again. 
“You sure do laugh a lot for someone who thinks this isn’t funny!”
“Can’t help it right now.”
“I mean, I am pretty funny,” Max said with an audible smug look on his face.
“Yeah, yeah, well, looks aren’t everything.”
“Good one, Elle. I’m going to hang up on you so you have to call him.”
“I’m not going to, I need more time. Plus, he’s in Montreal right now, it’s 3:30 for him, too, and I’d imagine he’s asleep.”
“You’re stubborn, you know that, right?”
“Hm, I learned it from you.”
“Get some sleep, Eloise. Love you.”
“Love you, too, Maxy. And, I promise, I’ll call him eventually.”
It was nearly two months later before I decided it was finally time to talk to Lando again. Of course, by that point, I was well past sleep deprived between restless nights in New York and changing time zones as I returned home to the United Kingdom. 
With my brain barely functioning, I decided the best bet would be to not call Lando, but show up in Austria at his next race. I had all the passes I needed to show up thanks to both myself and Lando thinking this falling out was never going to happen. 
I managed to avoid all the areas I knew Lando would be during the days leading up to Sunday. I saw and anxiously watched as Lando raced Max for the lead. I sat and nearly cried as I watched Lando’s race come to an end just laps shy of yet another podium. 
Lando is hard on himself. He holds himself to a level that’s nearly impossible to reach, and I know his mood after this race will be anything but stellar. He’s bound to be angry, and I start to fear what his reaction will be if he sees me. 
As I stand lost and confused in the paddock, I hear my name being called by maybe one of the few people who could make me smile at this moment. 
“Eloise! Elle, is that you?”
I whip my head around to see a smiling Daniel Ricciardo jogging my way. Before I could even respond, I’m wrapped in the embrace of one of my favorite members of the F1 world. 
“What are you doing here? Does Lando know?”
“I’m assuming he’s clued you in on what’s happened?”
“Just a little, don’t know all the details.” 
“Um, yeah, well he doesn’t know I’m here. Really, I don’t even know why I’m here. I should probably leave. There was part of me that wanted to talk to him, but after everything that’s gone on just today, it’s probably best I make myself just disappear. I don’t want to make this any worse than it probably already is for him.”
“Eloise, you’re rambling.”
I couldn’t help it, I was nervous. I was standing in front of one of Lando’s former teammates and just steps away from the McLaren garage. 
“Do you want me to call him and get him down here? I really don’t think you off all people could make this moment worse for him”
“Uh, yeah, sure. Call him.”
Lando must’ve answered quickly, but it seemed to take some convincing from the Aussie to lure Lando out of his driver’s room. Eventually the word was that he was on his way down. 
I wouldn’t let Daniel leave. I couldn’t let Daniel leave. Just over a minute after Daniel had hung up the phone, I heard a voice that I’d been missing for months. 
The voice was so calming on the ears that I had a physical reaction to it. Everything seemed to calm down around me the second the first word came stumbling from Lando’s mouth. 
“What’s up, Daniel? Really just not in the mood right now.”
He didn’t respond. Daniel just stepped out of the way, revealing me to the man who still held so much of my soul. 
“Hey, Lan.” 
The tension was palpable. Lando and I stood there staring at one another as Daniel slowly disappeared to likely return to his own driver’s room. I didn’t want to say anything until he responded, but I was scared that if I waited for him, it would be silent for hours. 
“Sorry for just showing up and not calling. For some reason it seemed easier to jump on a plane than it did to pick up the phone.” 
“You’re here? In Austria? You’re here, really here? I went back home, I called and nothing. Now, you’re just here?”
“Lan, I’m sorry. I needed space. I just didn’t know the best way to come back.”
I could tell Lando was trying to not get angry. His body language becomes so easy to read after knowing him for years.
His hand ran through the curls on his head after rubbing his face almost too hard. 
“Um, let’s just go to my driver’s room. We probably shouldn’t have this conversation in public.” 
The walk to his room was awkward. There were eyes glancing at us and some whispers, too. I knew it had been awhile since I had been at one of these, but this surely wasn’t the reaction I was expecting. 
“Listen, Eloise, I’m not mad. I’m just confused. You left me in my apartment and then disappeared for months with nothing from you. I had to rely on Max to at least know you were alive.”
Lando took a seat on his makeshift bed after making room next to him for me to sit. 
“I know, Lando. I can only imagine how much it hurt you for me to leave, but I had to protect myself. I was hurting so much.”
“I never wanted to hurt you.”
Lando was crying. With the events that had already unfolded today, this really wasn’t the best time for this conversation, but it didn’t look like I could avoid it any longer. 
“Lan, I know you didn’t want to hurt me.” 
Before I could stop myself, I was wiping the tears that were starting to spill from his eyes. He looked so vulnerable at this moment. 
“And, really, Lando, I don’t think I ever really felt hurt by you. I just wanted you to hear me and it felt like you were blinded by some love.” 
“It wasn’t love. It was lust or some shit like that. It just definitely wasn’t love.”
I’m not sure how I was really supposed to take that revelation. Was he still seeing her? Was it still too new that he was just describing it as lust?
My confusion must’ve been evident on my face because before I could utter a response, Lando was talking again. He was talking to me as he slowly grabbed both of my hands in his, running his thumbs over the back of them. 
“She’s gone. She’s not in the picture anymore. The day after you left, Max and I had a heart-to-heart. Really, he kind of laid into me and wouldn’t stop. He kept saying that some fling was never going to be worth what you meant to me — what you mean to me.”
It was my turn to start crying. The tears didn’t flow as fast as they did the night I walked out of his apartment, but they were there. Lando quickly pulled me into his chest, placing a needed kiss on my temple. 
“Eloise, I will spend every day for the rest of my life apologizing for allowing her to say those things about you.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” my voice slightly muffled but my head in his chest. 
As I leaned back, I grabbed his hands once again and looked him in the eyes — those eyes that have held me captive since I was 13. 
“Why didn’t you come find me after you broke it off with her? Max isn’t that strong, he would’ve told you where I was in a heartbeat if he knew it was over.”
“I knew where you were. I knew you were tucked away in a crummy New York hotel room. I just wanted to give you space. Telling you she was gone would’ve just rushed you, and I didn’t want to do that.”
“You really do surprise me sometimes, Lando Norris. Can we go back to being friends again? I can’t do life without you in it.”
“About that…”
About what? What could Lando possibly want to say to me? I thought this conversation was going well, I thought it was oddly healing in a way. Was he about to push me out the door this time? 
“I don’t know if we can be friends again, Eloise.”
Oh my god this really is it. Our friendship is ending. After months of me not letting it die in my brain as I took my own space, Lando Norris was about to shatter my heart into a million unrecoverable pieces. 
“We can’t be friends because it’s not OK for friends to love one another the way I love you.”
“Wait, what?”
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modelbus · 1 year
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Hello!! I LOVE your writing, like I’m obsessed! So, I can’t tell if your requests are open, buttt if they are, I would DIE for some fluff turned to angst of a fem!reader who is in a group with cc!Ranboo, cc!Tubbo, cc!Wilbur and cc!Tommy nicknamed the chaos squad by the fandom, where she is the least popular in the group and a rumour spread that shes only in it for the popularity, so they slowly stoped inviting her to streams and vlogs and ghosting her.
it could start with like three two sentence stories about the group (or something), how it was formed just fluffy moments, and then be like “but it didn’t stay like that for long..” and explain why she was subtly kicked from the group before a scene where shes streaming and gets asked about why shes not been in any videos anymore.
PHEW that was ALOT, if its to long you can obviously shorten it or just not do it- but if requests are open and you like the idea, I would love to see something like this!! <3
PS. You are super cool, keep up the amazing work!! (When you want to ofc)
-✨🌌🌙 Anon
Thank you so much! I tried my best to include everything :D This literally took me out of my writing slump
Part 2 :)
Pairing(s): cc!Ranboo, cc!Tubbo, cc!Wilbur and cc!Tommy x Fem!Reader (Platonic)
Cut Chaos
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The feeling of belonging was something nearly everyone chased after. After all, being out of place was simply… lonely. And, somehow, you found yourself slotting into the weirdest place in the world.
A handful of stupid friends.
You always found yourself drawn to dumbasses, in the most affectionate way. Like looks for like, you suppose. And shit, did you find some people that could make you cry laughing even on the worst days.
Ranboo, Tubbo, Wilbur, Tommy. Four people that made the sun rise every day, that dragged you out of bed for the stupidest vlogs to ever exist. Fans adored the five of you together so much that you got a group name for the first time in your career: the Chaos Squad.
Truly, it was a fitting name. The things that the five of you got up to, you’re certain no normal sane person would do. But, well, your job as a streamer already set you apart from the category of “normal” a long time ago, so you definitely didn’t mind the messes you got into with them.
From Tommy dragging the group to an abandoned island, saying it’d be fun to try to escape (you fell out of a tree and Wilbur sprained his ankle), to screaming along at Lovejoy concerts, it felt like the five of you were unstoppable.
And God, did you love them. It didn’t matter how many times Ranboo hit his head on things, you’d still laugh. It didn’t matter that you literally passed out from laughing so hard once, you were still happy. Pure, unfiltered love.
The five of you against the world, forever. You could see it, in those sunny days where you grinned so hard your cheeks hurt (they were the first ones to make you do that—the realization only made you grin harder). The perfect idea of happiness.
Was it any wonder things didn’t stay that way, that perfect, for long?
A rumor.
It always seemed to start with one of those, nowadays. A simple murmur among fans that grew and grew, until you were closing out of twitter at 2, 4, 5 AM, debating if you should just delete the app and put your status on “Do Not Disturb.”
You accepted the fact that being a female content creator was going to be a struggle a long time ago. It was a fact, something you knew you couldn’t avoid, especially in gaming. Having rumors about you online wasn’t new. It would never be new, not as long as you were yourself.
But you thought you’d be past caring about them by now. You thought the tight panic that gripped your heart, made it hard to breathe, was a thing of the past. So stupid.
One private account turned into multiple threads, turned into trends on the trending tab.
Everyone thought you were using your friends, the chaos squad as a whole, just to boost your career. To leech off anyone’s subscribers, just for some money in your pocket.
The idea made you sick to your core.
How dare they? How dare they ever think you didn’t genuinely care for the four? That they were anything less than the lightness in your heart, the freedom on your mind?
Rumors.
You ignored them. Even the thought of addressing them made you feel pissed off like you’ve never been before. It was such an absurd idea! At the very least, you knew your friends would see past the hateful people.
Right?
It starts with an unanswered message in the group chat.
Unanswered messages weren’t new. A stray comment tended to get lost in the general mess that the group chat was, so you weren’t concerned. Just laughed to yourself quietly; it wasn’t important anyways, just a photo of a cat you saw.
Until it happened again. And again. Until more of your messages went ignored than responded to, until the group chat had less and less messages each day.
When the first vlog comes out, the process repeats. It’s on Tommy’s channel, of course. Him, Ranboo, Tubbo, and Wilbur. The chaos squad, just without you. It surprised you, because you never even realized they filmed a video, and normally all of you share upcoming videos.
All the warning signs were obvious, and you were too much of a damn fool.
You filmed one vlog with them after that, exploring a supposedly haunted house, before you woke up a month later and realized you hadn’t talked to them in a week.
One week turns into two, two into three, until you’ve realized what’s happened. You were gone, out of the picture. Happiness had slipped through your fingers faster than you could’ve ever comprehended, and now you were in a dark room—literally.
But what could you do? If they didn’t want you, there was nothing you could do to stop the unraveling of your universe.
So you did the same thing you did before them, defaulting back to what was safe: streaming alone.
Today, it’s just a mindless game. Yesterday was the same, and fuck, this isn’t the same anymore. Not when you don’t have Tubbo in the chat sending messages, or Wilbur using Text-To-Speech.
But you’re here, still streaming. Still going, no matter how tempting it is to just shut off your computer and pretend the last months of your life never happened.
There’s always fans though, and if anything cheers you up, it’s them. So your donations are on, allowing them to be read aloud while you play the silly little unpacking game.
“Where am I putting the diploma guys? Where does this go?” You ask, mouse hovering over the virtual object. “Maybe I’ll just put it under the pillow…”
“StarEmojis donated $15! If up is down and yes is no, how many sides does a triangle have?”
“Thank you, but… uh...” You narrow your eyes at the message. “None, it’s a circle?”
Shrugging, you drag the diploma in the game to under the pillow. The riddle sounds familiar, but not one you know the answer to. It sounds like something Wilbur would send in the group chat at 2 in the morning, honestly.
With that thought in mind, your eyes flicker over the user that donated it. StarEmojis. Not Wilbur.
You’re so stupid for hoping. For the jump in your heart, for the frantic searching.
“StarStarMoon donated $20! Why aren’t you in any Chaos Squad videos anymore? Love you!”
Air catches in your lungs, dread swelling in your chest as your hands still on the mouse and keyboard. That shouldn’t have gotten past the moderators, but it did.
And now you have to answer it.
It wasn’t like you could tell the truth: that you weren’t good enough. That even your best friends didn’t believe you over rumors from strangers online.
Any lie would have a chance of getting back to them though. Not that you can imagine them caring, not anymore.
You swallow past the lump in your throat that’s killing you, taking a breath in before answering. One chance to get the fans to move on, one chance to find the impossible balance between the agony inside of you and cool indifference.
“We’re all just busy.” You say, forcing a smile on your face.
It’s true, at least. Everyone is busy. Everyone except you, that’s it.
“Just scheduling problems. Wil- Wilbur has Lovejoy practices and performances.” You stumble over his name. Did you even have the right to call him Wil anymore? “And Tommy is just always busy. He’s the busiest person, I swear.”
Is that true anymore? You don’t know. He used to be, but you used to help force him to take breaks. Was he taking breaks? You’ll never know.
With another forced smile, you give a half-hearted shrug. “So yeah, just busy, don’t worry guys.”
It’s with baited breath that you wait, eyes scanning chat to see if they bought it. From what you’re seeing, they have.
“Now we need to reorganize these clothes, because they’re killing me like this—“
Your discord pings quietly on another monitor, and you scramble to open it. Just your mods apologizing for letting the donation go through. You send a quick message back to them before pushing the donation to the back of your head just like everything relating to the group you’re no longer part of.
What could you do, anyways?
This was out of your control.
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