#sorry for visually assaulting you

[sematarygirls]

🐞 ⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ ─── rafe sees anxious!reader's tramp stamp for the first time

cw: suggestive but mostly fluff, angst if you squint, curvy? reader, body image insecurities

       It wasn't like you were hiding it or anything. You certainly weren't ashamed of the permanent ink artwork embedded into your lower back. In fact, you had loved it ever since you got it done.

The problem was that you were self-conscious about your body. You weren't big enough to be considered plus sized, but you weren't small enough to be considered ideal either. You were in a weird middle zone that left you feeling utterly undesirable and completely at war with your body, which led you to wearing a lot of high-rise pants and other articles of clothing that obscured your body—your lower back included.

You also met Rafe in the winter. How he, the hottest guy in Kildare and maybe even the entire world, found you of all people attractive aside, the weather meant that you were never in bikinis or cropped shirts and shorts around him.

Those things combined with the fact that you were too scared to have sex with him meant that you had never been in a position where he had been able to catch a glimpse of it, leaving your boyfriend completely in the dark to your tattoo.

Plus, you sort of forgot it was there. After it healed and there was no longer pain or that persistent, unfathomably uncomfortable itch to remind you that you had gotten your skin altered forever, it was out of sight, out of mind.

Those things combined with the fact that you were too scared to have sex with him meant that you had never been in a position where he had been able to catch a glimpse of it, leaving your boyfriend completely in the dark to your tattoo.

Until you finally decided to stop being a nervous wreck and spend the night at his house. It was going to be completely innocent, nothing more than some cuddling and a slightly awkward moment of realization the morning after as you felt morning wood pressing against you for the first time. You were inexperienced, to say the very least.

He offered you some sweatpants with a drawstring and a shirt for you to wear, and since you had dreamed of this since you were 13, you had obliged, trying not to seem to excited at the thought of being in his clothes, enveloped by his scent. It just seemed like something oddly intimate and domestic, something you longed for.

You pulled your pants off and pulled his sweatpants on, tying the drawstring, but the pants still hung a little loose on your hips. You turned your back to him, lifting your shirt off, and just as you started to slip his shirt on, you heard his voice, making you freeze.

"What the fuck is that?" He asked, his obscenity mixed with shock making the sentence come out much harsher and more jarring than he had intended. He wasn't as angry as his tone intended. In fact, he was really fucking turned on and incredibly curious. His sweet, shy little girlfriend was hiding a tattoo in the sexiest spot he could imagine.

"What?" You asked, quickly pulling his shirt down and turning to him, your eyes wide with worry. Your mind, adept at overthinking every micro expression and shift in tone, immediately started running with possibilities, most prominently, that he had seen something about your body that he didn't like.

"The tattoo," he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You didn't tell me you had a fuckin' tramp stamp."

"Oh," you replied softly, your blood rushing to your cheeks. Your mind immediately worried that he didn't like it, that maybe it would be a deal breaker or he'd think you were some kind of slut. "I-uh- I don't know..." You tried to explain yourself, stumbling over your words as your mouth struggled to catch up to your brain. "I guess I forgot about it," your excuse sounded pathetic even to your own ears as it left your lips, but you didn't have anything else to say, nothing that wasn't a string of apologies and pleas that he wouldn't leave you, anyway.

"You forgot you had a tattoo on your lower back?" He raised an eyebrow, sitting up on his bed and crossing his arms, his biceps bulging slightly. He didn't mean to sound like an asshole, but it was practically in his DNA. He was working on trying to be gentler with you, realizing when you needed him to be softer and when you liked him acting like sort of a dick, but working on were the operative words in that phrase. He wasn't quite there yet.

"It's just..." You struggled to find the words to explain. Rafe didn't have tattoos. He didn't know how easy it was to just forget that they were there. After a certain point, it just becomes a part of you that you're used to. You don't really think about it or perceive it as much as other people do. "I don't really see it because of where it is, so I- um- well, it's easy to forget that it's there... I guess?" You sounded completely unsure of yourself, to the point that you worried he might think you were lying, whether that was a valid concern or just your anxious brain trying to fuck with you, you weren't sure.

He leaned forward, saying nothing for a moment as his piercing blue eyes regarded you with a scrutinizing stare that made you feel like he could see right through you. You fiddled with the hem off his shirt, biting the inside of your cheek anxiously as your gaze darted around the room—you always overthought how much eye contact was the correct amount. "Turn around," he ordered after a moment, his voice low and gruff. "Let me see. Properly this time."

"What?" You asked, your eyes snapping to his and widening a fraction as you were caught off guard by his demand. You weren't entirely sure what you expected to be honest, maybe to be broken up with, or just chewed out for keeping a secret or getting such a tattoo in the first place, but for some reason, it hadn't occurred to you that he would want to look at it, really look at it.

"Turn around," he said again, his tone leaving no room for argument this time. He didn't like repeating himself, and he especially didn't like feeling like he was missing out on a piece of you, this girl that had taken him completely by surprise and made him forget that anyone else existed. "Now."

Your brain seemed to short circuit, and you stood there for a minute, blinking at him with your lips parted as if you were going to object, but instead, you simply turned around, holding your breath as you entered your natural state of constant worrying.

Your breath hitched slightly, your eyes squeezing shut in fear and anticipation as he gently tugged the shirt up, revealing your back. he tugged the sweatpants down ever so slightly to see the bottom of the tattoo, and you waited for what seemed like forever before finally feeling his warm fingers run along the healed ink.

The image depicted on your skin, like art on a canvass, was two swans, kissing to create a heart with their faces. One of them was lightly shaded, meant to depict a white swan, and the other was darkly shaded, meant to depict a black swan. It didn't have an explicit meaning to you. You just thought it was pretty and really liked swans, the fact that they mated for life speaking to your hopeless romantic heart.

His fingertips traced the line work, a gesture that was sensual and seemed to leave fire in its wake. He stared at it for a long while, such a beautiful and permanent piece of art on his girl in such an indirectly intimate area making something within stir.

"You hate it don't you?" You breathed out, the words falling from your lips in a concerned hurry faster than you could stop it. The silence was suffocating, not knowing what would come after making your skin crawl with anxiety.

"Face me," was all he said. He wanted to look you in the eyes when he said what he had to say, wanted to make sure you really heard him and understood that he meant what he said.

You turned back around to face him, looking down at him as he placed his hands firmly on your hips, pulling you forward to stand between his legs. Your brows were knitted in worry, looking down at him like you were going to burst into tears if he'd started laying into you. You really liked Rafe—it was too soon to say love but... you did—and that mixed with your people-pleaser tendencies made your stomach turn at the thought of upsetting him.

Realistically, you had no reason to be so nervous about his reaction. It was your body, you could do whatever you wanted to it, and you had gotten it before you two even got together, but your brain didn't really care about what was realistic; it only cared about worst case scenario and disappointing people.

"Baby, you are absolutely gorgeous, alright?" He said sternly, already aware that you were preparing yourself for the worst and probably working yourself up about it. "And, fuck, I mean this tattoo... it only makes you more sexy to me. You're fuckin' perfect."

Your cheeks heated up again, not with fear or embarrassment this time but at his compliment. You also visibly relaxed as the clarification that he wasn't mad soothed your nerves a tad. You let out a surprised giggle as he tugged you down onto his lap.

"You got any more sexy little tattoos hidden under these clothes?" He asked flirtatiously, flashing that panty-dropping smirk that made him look ten times more handsome, especially when he was gripping your thigh with one hand and holding you securely against him by your waist with his other.

"No," you smiled, tentatively wrapping your arms around his neck, not knowing if it was as attractive as it seemed in books. "Just that one. Sorry to disappoint," you continued, your voice soft as you bit your lip shyly—one of your many anxious habits.

"Mm," he hummed, dipping his head into the curve where your neck met your shoulder. "Shame," he murmured, placing soft kisses against your skin as you giggled. The tension in the room had completely dissipated, replaced by a lighthearted and flirty atmosphere.

Rafe knew you weren't ready to go further than just kissing, and he was going to wait for as long as you needed him to. Though he'd be lying if he said he didn't get horny at the idea of pounding into you from behind, your tattoo completely exposed for him to gawk at, but he knew baby steps were in order. He needed to get you okay with sex before he molded you into his little personal porn star.

                         ୭ৎ

author's notes .ᐟ   described my own tattoo as the one reader has, but if you have your own or want to imagine it as something else, feel free to do so! i just thought i should describe the tattoo for the story's sake <3

also, i know this is a little different from the giggly and jokey couple we saw in my other anxious!reader x boyfriend!rafe fic, and that is because this is toward the beginning of their relationship. reader is still trying to learn to be more comfortable with rafe enough to be herself and realize that he loves her, even it she doesn't like herself, and rafe has never done the relationship thing, especially not with a girl like reader, so he's still learning to express his emotions and be soft and warm with her the way he wants to and know she deserves.

tags .ᐟ   @starkeysprincess / @cometmultiverse / @iheartjjmaybnk / @all4l0vee / @kissesfrmriri / @bradshawed / @fallbhind / @rafeslittleangel / @bakugouswaif / @fakedhearts / @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 /

[sweetlikemonie]

𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 𝐁𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒

synopsis: lil blurbs on how they beat it out the frame in (and out) the bedroom!

featuring: toji fushiguro, geto suguru, gojo satoru, nanami kento, & aoi todo x fem!reader

content warning: 18+ minors scram pls. mentions of sex duh, unprotected sex, spanking, multiple positions mentioned (w/twitter visuals 🫣), use of a sex toy in geto’s, lots of dirty talk, pet names, dom/sub elements, oral (fem receiving), hair pulling, exhibitionism, daddy kink in nanami’s, & orgasm denial and creampie in todo’s

author’s note: hey..hey…how y’all doing *miss juicy’s voice*. i’ve been gone for quite a bit. this is a lil rushed especially towards the end but comments and shares are always appreciated. xoxo hope you enjoy!

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

quite literally the one of the reasons i’m making this cause he takes your nut serious. his mission is to make sure you’re completely spent and satisfied. toji is not a mean, hard dom in my world. definitely gives me very much pleasure dom, fucking you until the sheets are riddled with your juices. when he’s satiated. just like when he’s got your back arched deep in the middle of the couch, pounding into you as if his life depended on it. “oou my god toji. y-you’re fucking the shit out me.” you moan out weakly, your hands frantically reaching out to grab at something for balance.

you try to find relief by scooting up slightly on the couch, his harsh strokes beginning to make your wetness run speedily down your thighs. you could barely keep your eyes open; and the only sounds starting to come from your mouth now were wordless grunts and gasps of immense pleasure, signaling your release. it didn’t take him long to catch on before one of his hands reached for your arms, locking them together. his free one gripped at your hair, pulling you back into his chest. “stop tryna run from me baby. you wanted this dick, so lemme give it to you.” he smirked as he pulled you in for a sloppy kiss.

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

does not fuck around. be bratty and you’ll suffer the consequences. loves rough sex and spanking, reserved especially when he thinks you’ve been stepping out of line. like when you’ve been having problems at your job with your coworkers snickering at you with snide remarks while you were working. so in turn, you’re snapping on him for little stuff you wouldn’t usually. he confronts you about this and when you finally opened up to him about what you’re dealing with, geto is deeply empathetic to your situation and offers you some stress relief in the best way he knows how, but not without a lil punishment first.

“and you better sound off too princess. you’ve hurt daddy’s feelings this week.” he spoke as he his large hands rubbed across the globe of your ass, before feeling two hard smacks on your left cheek. you lurched forward as you hissed. “fuck. i’m so sorry.” you uttered with a whine, hoping he accepted your apology. you weren’t sorry. it’s as if he knew the truth as he continued his assault on both cheeks of your ass, leaving them stinging and warm to the touch. tears rested at the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall. “you may not be right now but you will be soon.” you were confused as to what he meant by that but you soon understood as he positioned you onto all fours and you heard the buzzing sound of your vibrator coming from behind you.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

munchiest munch to ever munch. and eats the booty too! does it for himself and will stay down there for hours if you let him. likes to get your pleasure out the way first cause when it’s his turn to focus on his, that stamina is fucking killer. it’s like he spent your first few orgasms as a warmup and this was the real workout. big dick but not in girth; in length, so he likes those deep, piercing strokes where he can hit that spot you like. missionary because you’re pretty? no. missionary because sato thinks he’s pretty but he also wants to see your reactions? yes.

“gotta give me room to move in this tight ass pussy. s-shit,” gojo hisses with a halt of his hips. he moves from side to side, as if he’s getting snug and securing his spot inside of you. he had been at this for an hour now…pulling 4 orgasms out of you with his tongue, and promising the fifth and final one was to come from his dick. your breath hitches as he starts his strokes back up, thrusting into you with vigor. “ah-ah breathe baby. how it feel?” he coos with that stupid fucking smug on his face as he continues to stroke into you deeply. one of satoru’s hands moves off of your hips, placing it right on your puffy clit tracing it in slow, sloppy circles. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt that cord in your stomach beginning to snap, your orgasm so close you could taste it. you snapped out of your trance when you felt a hand grab at your hair, pulling you up to look at those piercing, blue eyes. “i want you to look at me while we cum together, kay?”

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

soft man. gentle touches and kisses cause he sees your body like a delicate flower. isn’t real big on rough sex foreal unless it’s been an absolutely stressful and nerve wracking week. doesn’t have to do too much but you still feel him with every nerve you have in your body. loves whispering sweet but absolutely filthy things against your ear, he likes the feeling of you tightening up on him as you take in what he says. since nanami is so laid back reserved i feel like that dick is nice and heavy and is LOUD AF in the sheets. exhibit a & b:

“just like that baby…keep riding that dick.” nanami’s baritone voice spoke lowly by your ear. you were writhing in pleasure as he bounced you up and down along his thick shaft. you two had been all over each other for about an hour now. as soon as he walked through the door, he was greeted by your presence with a warm meal and after that you ran him a nice bath, which is where you two started. nanami was so grateful to have you in his life and he couldn’t think of a better way to thank you right now besides making you come so much you seen stars. “i’m so close kento…help me,” you begged, tears starting to well up in your eyes. you felt your legs beginning to tire out. you had been bouncing on him for about 15 minutes now and on the brink of your second orgasm. his large hands gripped at your hips as he started to fuck you harder and faster from the bottom, signaling his soon release. “tell me you deserve it pretty girl.” you whimpered as you tried to find the words to satisfy him. “i-i deserve it baby. please” you cried out as a huge wave of pleasure overcame you.

𝐀𝐎𝐈 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐎

the other reason i’m making this. many don’t appreciate him like i do but i loveee a built man. you know that song by sexyy red called ‘mad at me’? todo thinks that’s she made the song for him cause it’s exactly how he likes to put it down. don’t tease him in public cause he’s a lil pervert and will get his when and wherever he wants to. like when y’all were doing a lil getaway to a cabin for the weekend, but you couldn’t keep your hands off his thighs and playing with the waistband of his sweats so he pulled over for a little 30 minute intermission.

“all that teasing just for you to be running? tsk, you know better than that mama.” aoi grunted from behind you, his tattooed hand wrapped around your neck, preventing you from freeing yourself from his grasp. his free hand landed three hard slaps each against your ass. part of you didn’t think he would pull over just to put you in your place. but who are you kidding? you knew how much aoi hated teasing. you just thought he would’ve tried to wait until you guys reached your destination. the fact that you were so out in the open and any car passing by could see the compromising position you were in got you so much wetter. his dick began hitting a different angle inside of you that had you squealing and throwing yourself back on him. you wanted to feel him as much as you could. “you gone come for me? i wanna feel all that shit dripping down my dick.” his deep voice rang against the shell of your ear, kissing and sucking on the lobe. you began to feel your release getting closer and closer, his strokes getting harder and wetness running down your thighs when all of a sudden it just—stopped. aoi’s strokes slowed down as you felt his dick throbbing, pumping the last of his cum into you. he pulled your panties and shorts back up before leaving a wet kiss against your temple. “thanks baby, i needed that.” you could hear the smirk in his voice as he left you there to get yourself together.

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Consider this a part 2 of Can't Escape the Nightmares cuz I keep getting ideas for this story 🙃

Pairing(s): Jasper Hale x Human!Reader, platonic!Rosalie Hale x Human!Reader

Warnings: mentions of past assault, mentions of past rape, noncon themes discussed, reader is jasper's mate, platonic!rosaliexreader, human!reader, nightmares, trauma, ptsd, dark content, mention of blood, brief mention of murder/death, hurt&comfort, ft the cullen fam, yes i'd like to sign up to be protected by rosalie ✋🏼, and my depressive ass could certainly use a man like jasper lol

Words: 1253

Summary: It was hard for you to be outside. Not after what happened. And with the Cullen house surrounded by a sea of towering trees. . . It was difficult for you to even step onto the wrap around porch. Everything about the outside reminded you of that day in the woods.

They'd smelled your blood from miles away, noticing that it grew closer and closer until Rosalie was upon the doorstep with you dangling in her arms. Your eyes were open, though void of expression; merely staring at these near angelic looking family with gold hued eyes.

Your injuries were nothing major, yet your blood yanked at their olfactory senses.

And Jasper was helpless when, eyes being engulfed by jet black.

The expression in Rosalie's expression though kept him at bay.

"Get him out of here. He can't handle it." Rosalie snaps, her hold on you growing tighter.

Intently watching Jasper's every move, you see the rigidity of his frame and the back and forth sawing motion of his jaw. He must have ground his teeth to oblivion, at least that's what you thought.

Never imagining the true inner turmoil that was engulfing his every sensibility. Jasper's perpetually cold skin suddenly felt like it was on fire. A monster scratched at his mental door. A monster that wanted to taste every inch of your skin before sinking his straight, razor teeth into your delicate paper-like flesh.

"Jazz, snap out of it." Edward motions for Emmett to keep him back. His hiss is low as not to scare you further. Knowing all the horrors you had just gone through

The fog that reduced his head to a warm flush lifts enough for him to finally notice the state you were in.

Large splotches of red and rich purple are smattered across the entirety of your arms and legs, with a giant one blooming on your jaw. His stomach recoils at your lack of clothes. Connecting the visual clues together to realize what had happened and why Rosalie was dyed in a mess of different blood types that didn't belong to you.

You were already broken.

Suddenly that monster was silent, it too watching with baited breath as Rosalie carries you up the staircase and to Carlisle's office. The older blonde vampire quick and on her heels.

Jasper's monster seemed to take that moment to decide something that was against its very nature: it would protect you, guard you and keep you.

There will always be that hunger in him for your blood. But no longer would he be ruled by it.

When exhaustion finally swept over you, Jasper peeks his head into Carlisle's office. Rosalie sat on the floor in front of the couch you were asleep on.

She's in front of him in a flash, barring him entrance with a fatal snarl.

He dare not mess with this gold mama bear.

It was hard for you to be outside. Not after what happened. And with the Cullen house surrounded by a sea of towering trees. . . It was difficult for you to even step onto the wrap around porch. Everything about the outside reminded you of-

"They can't hurt you again." Edward mentions behind you as you stood in the front door, hand quaking above the doorknob.

That didn't relive the nausea in your stomach. Your eyes shut tight and Edward winces when your mind immediately goes to the day that you were assaulted.

When you catch yourself you immediately apologize and take a step back. "S-sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"No, don't apologize." He's firm on this and finally you turn around. Surprisingly, the Cullens had understood the trauma you had gone through more than you would have thought. Every one of them had gone through a horrifying event much like your own. Rosalie's was almost identical to your's and possibly the very reason why she had saved you and killed those monsters who abducted you. And has protected you since then. She reminded you of a mother hen.

When Jasper first showed interest in you, Rosalie actually became aggressive toward him; telling him that you weren't ready for such a relationship. That you needed to heal more.

Jasper never stepped over any boundaries. He never came close to it. He waited. Helped you whenever you asked for it. Approached you tentatively until you told him that he didn't have to tiptoe around you. Many months were required before this. In the meantime you allowed Rosalie (and to a smaller extent, Alice and Esme) to tend to you and repair your fragmented body.

The only time he used his power on you without your permission was when you were asleep and suffering from your all too frequent nightmares.

"If you want, I can go outside with you. Maybe we can take a short walk around the house." He softly offers when you glance back at the door.

They were all so kind to you, never asking when you'd be ready to leave their house. It never came up. In fact you had the suspicion that Rosalie would insist on you living with them from now on. An unofficial part of the Cullen family.

You knew their secret. Living there, it didn't take long to discover that they were not human. From their perfect pale skin, to their golden eyes, there was something different about them. The way Edward was able to anticipate your every needs or how even being in the same room with Jasper had your anxiety simmering down. Even Alice displayed odd signs that you would have normally passed off as some kind of mental illness when she'd stare off into the distance. You now knew it was her getting a glimpse of the future.

"Thank you, but maybe today isn't the day. . ." You force your trembling lips to quirk up into a tentative smile though it could not fool Edward who could hear the inner turmoil in your mind. He never pushed.

He nods and lets you amble back upstairs to safety. The Cullens required no sleep so their bedrooms were essentially just for decoration. Rosalie and Emmett happily gave up their room so that you could seek out privacy when you were too overstimulated to be in their company. They even bought a tv just to put in the room for you. You didn't know what you did in your life to deserve them.

But before you go to your own designated room, you stop in front of Jasper's with a tentative hand raised to knock on his door. You were always nervous when asking him to hang out with you while Rosalie was gone. You'd heard Rosalie whisper to Emmett one night about you being Jasper's 'mate'. She must have thought you were fast asleep but you heard them discuss the possibility of a relationship between you and the other blonde Hale.

It made you self conscious now when you were near him. You'd known that he was. . . attracted to you.

You jump when his bedroom door opens to reveal his figure. "H-Hi."

His smile is always so sweet and even shy. "Hello."

"Um," Your fingers twist the hem of your shirt anxiously. " well, Rosalie is gone. I was wondering if you wanted to hang out for a little bit. . . Esme bought me a new dvd. We can watch it?"

Adoring the way his eyes crinkle when his smile broadens, you take a step back to allow Jasper to exit his room and close the door behind him. "Lead the way, ma'am." Your chest squeezes when that southern drawl of his comes out.

Trusting anyone again wasn't an easy journey. But being cradled by the Cullen family was bound to heal some wounds.

And perhaps water the seed of love that had been planted in your heart by Jasper.

[clare-875]

One touch (Levi x Reader)

_____ Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Female Reader Summary: When you find yourself cornered, Levi saves you Warnings: Angst to fluff, Sexual harassment/assault, Men being pigs, Levi swearing [AOT Masterlist] _____

I'm used to it. That was what kept you unflinchingly moving past them, even when their dirty words were hushed in the air. I'll ignore it. Those were the words you chanted to yourself, so you could get through the day without nausea and rage dictating your actions, even as they tried to gather your attention. There's nothing I can do. That was the notion you fell into as you made excuses for your lack of action, your lack of saying anything about the matter, even or maybe especially to Levi. But despite the constant rhythm of your words reverberating through your head, it didn't change the fact that you couldn't escape. You couldn't escape them.

Every day these past weeks, high-ranking officers from deep within the walls had come to Scout Headquarters; for what you didn't know. Perhaps it had to do with rising suspicions on the integrity of Erwin, and thus they were sent to merely observe or criticize. Perhaps it was the rising stakes now with Eren and his ability to become a Titan prompting more eyes pointed our way. Whatever it was you did not care. But somehow it still had everything to do with you. You were well known both within the Scouts and in the general public: The one that could keep up with humanity's strongest soldier; Levi. But you were also known for other traits, mostly the way you visually stood out amongst a crowd. It never bothered you how "distracting" this could be, but never had you thought it would cause you the trouble it did now.

Each time you passed the higher ranking officers, yet to face any consequence by your fist or your words, they would start to whisper. Scouts knew better than to mess with you, not only as a Captain of the Scout Regiment who commanded respect but by the partner of Levi. They knew what would happen if he heard even a glimmer of disrespect and god forbid the heinous acts of the higher-ranking officers who taunt you now. Their voices had grown louder with the passing days, bolder by the power they yielded. Yes, their power; their status. Had it been any other low-ranking officer he would've hit the dirt before the next sly comment left his mouth, but you could scarcely do anything to them. The Scouts were already on high alert, and you couldn't make matters worse. What you failed to realise was that their boldness would soon seep not only into their disgusting words but into their actions. You got used to the suggestive comments you got as you passed. You kept your head high, unflinching as you walked; as though you had heard nothing at all.

But you weren't used to this.

They had you cornered, about five of them.

Your heart churns more in disgust than fear, you would result to that much less willingly; you wouldn't give them what they so obviously wanted. "I'm sorry, but I have to be on my way Erwin will-" You try to maintain the benefit of the doubt, not that there was doubt in the first place; you knew what they wanted. "Erwin can wait, can't he darling?" A hand of one man reaches out towards you and you grit your teeth, bile rising in the back of your throat at their intentions. You can see it in the depths of their sinister eyes; their lust. You smack his hand away before it goes to caress your face and you see the first break of the facade; a flash of irritation on the first man's face. "I hope I'm not misunderstanding here gentlemen, but it seems you want something I won't offer." Two more men come from behind the first, shit-eating grins on their faces at your words.

"You understand just right sweetheart." One grabs your left hand forcefully backwards as you struggle, surprised by his underlying strength. "But don't worry, we'll take care of you." The other man brings his face close to yours as he restrains your right hand to the wall behind you and suddenly, you are encapsulated by panic. You had failed to realise that despite rotting away deep within Wall Sina, these officers still had military training, and were still strong compared to you, especially when you dealt with five. You refused to give in so quickly though, moving to kick one of the men forcefully and you do so, much to your satisfaction. The man groans out in pain, hearing the crack of a rib under the power of your foot. You then move quickly going to rid of the man who looks up in shock at your sudden movements, grip almost faltering on your right wrist. But you are stopped.

The fist that is about to collide with the next man is held back as the first man holds it within his grasp tightly. "Do you really want to do that now sweetheart? Do you know what we could do to the Scout Regiment? Erwin? Levi?" You freeze at his words, chest constricting at the intent behind them. They could bring the regiment to ruins if they so wished, one misleading report could have the Scouts under investigation. Would you be so willing to be the cause? But you would never let these men get away with any of this. You are so lost in your thoughts the four men who still stand use the opportunity to hold you down and your heart lurches in your chest. "W-wait." Your voice is strained against their hold as you feel the tightness of their fierce grip, knowing it will leave bruises. "W-wait! I said n-"

"What the fuck is going on here?"

Suddenly all comes to a halt. Suddenly the grip on your wrists loosens and the four men step away. Never. Never had you felt such relief at the sound of your lover's voice. Levi meets your glossy gaze and instantly his face morphs into one of pure rage; of the deathly intent to kill. His mind is swift at putting the dots together, realising what he had just witnessed. He moves forward grasping one man harshly who stutters out excuses before he is slammed to the ground in one deadly movement. "I asked a fucking question." He then elbows before punching another man against his head, who is knocked out in a second. "Can you guys not listen? Can you shits not hear?" The three remaining men cower under the anger of Humanity's Strongest Soldier. "Fucking pigs, don't touch my woman."

You have never seen the true depths of his strength and his speed until this moment, you have never seen such fear in men's eyes. He moved as if to murder, blood on his knuckles but more that splattered from those he beat up relentlessly. He didn't care who they were, he wouldn't care if one of them were the king of the walls. All he knew was that they touched you. The one he swore to protect. He was relentless. You saw the rebounding forms of the men who yelled out, trying desperately to escape his outrage. You knew of Levi's background; he wasn't above mercy. The men were soon covered, adorned with black and blue, crimson seeping deep upon their skin. But Levi never faltered, there was a mad look in his eyes; one you would only see beyond the walls. Despite wanting to witness their torture as much as Levi wanted to witness their deaths, you knew what would happen if he was left to these men any further so you reached out to him.

"L-Levi."

He responds to your hesitant voice instantly, hears the slight tremble in it and feels hatred brim within him ten-fold. "Levi, please, we can't- we can't." Levi knows what you are trying to say, but only stops when you pull him to your side and he sees the torment deep within your gaze. Scouts scurry around you as they notice the five bleeding men looking in shock at the high-ranking officers who now seem more dead than alive. Their eyes go to Levi and his stained knuckles but he merely stares back at them harshly. "Clean up the blood, now." The Scouts nod quickly at his deathly glare as they scurry to get the supplies. Levi goes to the only man who remains conscious, groaning as he brings him up to his face by his shirt collar. "You look at her, touch her ever again, you're dead, understand?" The man has enough decency to have a flicker of fear flash within his eyes and nod, as Levi drops him to the ground before coming back towards you. His grip is tight on your hand as he drags you away from the scene to which you are still in a daze.

You only seem to register the events that have conspired when you finally reach the room you and Levi shared. Levi was pacing up and down as he turned to you. "How long?" You look up in surprise at the tormented look on his face. "How long [y/n]?" You flinch at his sharpness before looking to the ground. "Weeks- I don't know, since they arrived. I couldn't- I couldn't do anything." There is a deep silence in the room and suddenly you are afraid. Would he berate you now, would you meet his anger? Worse, would you meet his disgust? Unbeknownst to you Levi looks to you in utter defeat, in utter rage at himself. He had promised to keep you safe from all that threatened you and yet you had felt it so necessary to hide your blatant discomfort and pain. All for the sake of the Scouts.

He reaches out, hand skimming yours before he holds it. He witnesses the light bruising of fingers upon your wrist and he fights the urge to go back to the men and finish the job. You look up eyes wide and tears brimming within them. He meets your gaze briefly before moving forward and you are shocked to be in his warm embrace. You lean your head against his chest, emotions suddenly overcoming you. "You should've told me." You shake your head against him gently but his grip is sure as he makes you face him and he sees the sheen of tears in your eyes. Hatred brims within him again at the sight of your afflicted state. "I would've you know, I would've killed them." You sigh deeply, leaning your head against his chest once more in defeat. "You know you can't." But Levi's gaze is far off as he holds you against him. "One touch; you know I would."

Needless to say, once Erwin was informed discreetly of the underlying situation, the men were stripped of their titles and sent away immediately. You never found out if Levi ever stuck to his uttered words but you also never saw the men ever again.

[candycandy00]

Hii! For your 2k followers event can you do

Character: Toji

AU Setting: Prison (As prisoner)

Spice Level: NSFW

Mood: Writers choice :)

Kinks: Whatever you see fit!!

Catch You on the Outside - A Toji x Reader Fanfic

Smut. 18+. AU. Fem Reader. Toji as a Prisoner. Rough sex. Rough oral.

Part of CandyCandy’s 2k Followers Event! These two requests were very similar so I combined them. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated! Dividers by @benkeibear!

You’re walking down the hall of the prison, just finishing your daily sessions with the prisoners in your therapy program, when you see him. 

Fushiguro Toji. You heard he was being transferred here, but you didn’t realize it would be today. He’s quite notorious, with a long list of convictions. Multiple counts of murder, extortion, armed robbery, assault, and dozens of lesser offenses. If it’s bad, he’s probably done it at some point. 

He’s so much bigger in person than he looked on the news. How tall is this guy? And he so muscular that he looks like he could wrestle a grizzly bear and win. He’s also much better looking in person. His face, though scarred and a bit rugged, is very handsome and his eyes are a sharp emerald green. 

As a team of six guards lead him by you, his eyes shift over to you. They travel shamelessly up and down your body, and it feels like his gaze is peeling your clothes off right there in the hall. It makes your face flush with heat. You’re no stranger to being ogled by the prisoners here, but there’s something absolutely obscene about the way Toji does it, the look in his eyes that says, “I’ll be fucking you by the weekend”, the way he subtly licks his lips, the way he smirks as if he could break loose and snap every guard’s neck before anyone could draw a gun.

It all sends a shiver down your spine. And as much as you hate to admit it, you feel a growing wetness in your panties. 

The next day you’re surprised to find out Toji signed up for the therapy program. He didn’t seem like the type to give therapy a shot, and you wonder if he only signed up so that he could be alone in a room with you. It wouldn’t be the first time a prisoner has tried that. You can always tell right away when they have no interest in actually talking about their feelings. They spend the session staring at your tits and sometimes even making disgusting comments or outright asking you for sex. You report their behavior and boot them from the program without a second thought. 

So what will it be with Toji? As you walk into the room to have your first session with him, you find yourself almost hoping he’ll proposition you. Of course you wouldn’t act on it. You’re a professional after all. But it might give you some masturbation material for tonight. Lord knows your brief run in with him yesterday gave you plenty for last night. 

He’s sitting in a metal chair, his wrists handcuffed behind his back. There’s a table in front of him, and another chair for you to sit across from him. Three guards are standing in the room. 

“You three can step out,” you tell them. Guards never stay in the room during sessions. Instead they wait outside the door. There’s also a camera in the corner of the room. It doesn’t record sound, only visuals, to protect the privacy of the prisoners. 

“We were told to stay in here,” one of them says. “Fushiguro has been known to attack doctors and therapists in the past.”

You glance over at him, and he gives you a smile. 

“He’s handcuffed, what’s he going to do?” you ask. 

One of the guards glances apprehensively at Toji. “I don’t think you realize how dangerous he is, ma’am.”

You bristle at that remark. “Are you seriously implying I don’t understand how dangerous my job is? I’ve worked with violent criminals daily for five years. I’ve had knives held to my throat. I’ve been punched in the face. Three different men have tried to rape me. So don’t tell me how dangerous this is!”

The guard seems to shrivel a bit at your outburst. “I’m sorry, but we can’t just leave you alone in here with him.”

“Listen,” you say, stepping closer to him, “doing my job properly depends on establishing trust with the prisoner. I can’t do that with you three hovering around in here. So wait outside the door. I’ll scream if he tries anything.”

The three guards look at each other, then one of them sighs and says, “We’ll give you twenty minutes.”

With that, they file out of the room and shut the door. You stare after them for a moment, feeling irritated but also proud of yourself for standing your ground. Then you walk over and take the seat across from Toji. 

“I’m sorry about that. I’ll have a word with the warden before tomorrow’s session,” you tell him, pulling your notepad and pen, as well as a recording device, from your bag. “Do you have any objections to me recording our conversations?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t care.”

You study his face. He still has that oddly confident look, as if he’s only staying here in prison for the fun of it. 

“Fushiguro-san, I want to make something clear right off the bat. If I think you’re not serious about this program, I’ll remove you immediately. But if you want to give therapy a fair shot, I’ll be happy to help you to the best of my ability.”

“Call me Toji,” he says, a smirk on his scarred lips. “And I’m completely serious about this. Why else would I sign up?”

You’ve already pushed record on the device and sat it between the two of you on the table. “Some prisoners sign up just to get close to me,” you say, opening your notebook to a clean page. 

“Really? Well don’t worry,” he says, that damn smirk still on his face, “I’m not that desperate. I’ve fucked enough women to last a lifetime.”

The comment gives you pause. Professionally, you should be relieved. But personally? You find it a little insulting. You click your fountain pen. “That’s good to know,” you say smoothly. 

“Don’t tell me you’re disappointed,” he says. 

“Of course not. It’s best for you if you see me as a professional here to help you.”

He laughs. “Best for you too.”

You look up from your notepad. “What do you mean by that?”

He tilts his head slightly, looking at you the way a lion looks at a wounded zebra. “If I saw you as a woman I wanna fuck, I’d have you bent over this table already.”

You know exactly what he’s doing, and he’s not the first. You sit your pen on the table and look at him with a cool expression. “And if I saw you as a man I want to fuck, Toji, I’d be under this table deep throating your cock right now. Thankfully, we’ve established that’s not the case, so let’s begin the session, shall we?”

His eyes widen slightly, then a broad grin spreads over his face. “Well, aren’t you a little firecracker!”

“No, I’m a woman who has dealt with men like you for years. So if you want to shock or frighten me, you’ll have to do better than that.”

There’s a gleam of excitement in his eyes as he stares at you. “How about I take these cuffs off and ram your pretty little head into the wall until it’s just a bloody pile of hamburger?”

You scoff as you jot down notes. In red ink you’ve written “violent tendencies” and “empty threats”. You barely glance up at him as you say, “You can’t just take the cuffs off, Toji. They’re pretty much designed to prevent that.”

“Really?” he asks, then he slowly pulls his hands forward in front of him. Only one has a cuff on it, the other metal ring dangling uselessly from it. 

Your first instinct is to jump up and flee the room. He’s loose! He’s probably been loose this whole time. The most violent man that’s ever been in this prison, that you’ve just been provoking, is just a few feet away from you. Should you scream? Could the guards even make it into the room before he kills you? 

Wait, if he wanted to kill you, he probably would have already. You decide to take a gamble. “So?” you ask, trying to keep your voice even, praying he doesn’t notice the slight tremor in your hands. “What are you going to do to me, Toji?”

He’s already pulled his hands back behind him. His earlier movement had been subtle enough that the guard monitoring the camera probably didn’t even notice. Toji grins. “There’s a lot of things I wanna do to you. The list is growin’ the longer I talk to you. The question is, what do you want me to do?”

You look at him for a moment, at his smug, handsome face, at his muscular form flexing beneath the tightly fitted black T-shirt. Did the prison not have a shirt big enough for him? You sit back in your chair, crossing your legs. “I want you to take therapy seriously. I want to help-“

“You want me to split you open on my cock,” he says, cutting you off. “You think I can’t tell when a woman wants me? I bet your little pussy is drooling right now.”

You stare at him wordlessly. Damn it, he’s right! You uncross your legs and cross them again, trying to give yourself a bit of relief. You want his rough, thick fingers inside you. 

Toji leans back, letting his thighs spread apart. He’s pushed back far enough from the table for you to see his crotch, and the outline of something impossibly huge. He notices you looking. “That’s right. Take a good look. I bet you’ve never seen a dick this big before. Now imagine how it’s gonna feel when I’m ramming it in your tight little hole.”

Your breaths are coming quicker despite your best attempts to remain calm. You glance up at the camera in the corner. Toji follows your gaze. 

“I’m guessing you need to do something about that,” he says. “Probably wouldn’t look very professional to be on camera getting your guts rearranged by a prisoner, huh?”

You place the pen and notebook in your bag and stop the recording device. The twenty minutes are almost up. “I’ll think about it,” you say as calmly as you can. 

He smiles at you as the guard opens the door and escorts you out. 

For the next several days, you continue your sessions with Toji. Neither of you mention his proposition, and he never removes the handcuffs again, at least as far as you know. Still, just knowing he can if he wants to gives you a thrill. 

He’s surprisingly open during his sessions. He tells you about a miserable childhood, a violent youth, a marriage that ended in the death of the only woman he ever loved, and (most shocking of all) a teenage son he hasn’t seen in years. 

“I send him money,” he tells you. “He accepts it, but he never answers when I call or text him. Not that I blame him. Guess it’s embarrassing to have a murderer for a father.”

There’s a hint of sadness when he says it, the first genuine emotion you’ve seen from him. But he shrugs like he doesn’t care and moves on from the topic. 

Fushiguro Toji is a fascinating man. If possible, you’d love to help him. 

But first, you want him to fuck you until you can’t form thoughts. 

A week after your first session with him, you decide to do something about that damn camera. It’s an easy task for you, someone who can move freely through the prison and has the trust of everyone there. The first step is to disable the monitor in the security room, which you do with no issue. It’s a temporary thing though, so you have to hurry to the consultation room and disable the camera itself while the monitor isn’t working, so no one sees what you’re doing. 

Once the camera has been broken, you’re home free. You’ve worked here long enough to know it’ll take several days for them to replace the camera. 

So today, when the guards walk out of the room, you lock the door behind them. Toji notices, and glances at the camera. “I take it that’s not recording?”

You nod. “It’s completely busted.”

He moves his arms around in front of him, uncuffed, and stands up, rolling his shoulders. Then in an instant he’s right in front of you, pressing you back against the wall, looming over you with a threatening aura. “You’re takin’ a big risk,” he says, “being alone with a guy like me. You must want my dick real bad.”

Your heart is pounding. This man could snap your neck like a twig. He could kill you before you can blink. But fuck, you’re so turned on! 

You smile up at him, using your hands to press back against his chest. “Sit down and I’ll show you how much I want it.”

His eyes seem to light up. He wears that familiar smirk as he returns to the chair and sits, lazily opening his legs. As you walk over, you unbutton your crisp white shirt, revealing a sexy lace bra you picked for today. You drop the shirt on the floor and unzip your pencil skirt, stepping out of it. You’re wearing matching lace panties with silk stockings and a garter belt. You chose the sexiest combo possible for this encounter. 

Toji seems to appreciate your efforts. His eyes drink in your form as he palms himself through his prison issued sweat pants. Then he slides the waistband down, and the biggest cock you’ve ever seen pops out. Strong and tall like its owner, it’s already rock hard. It looks delicious. 

When you reach him, you drop to your knees in front of him and grasp his shaft in one hand. Your fingers can’t even wrap all the way around its veiny girth, but you stroke him slowly, watching the massive organ twitch in your grip. You lean forward and lick the tip, then slide your tongue all around it, drenching it with your saliva before taking it into your mouth. 

It doesn’t fit, but you manage to get most of it in without choking. You’re pretty proud of your throat game, so you press even further down, letting him fill your mouth completely, almost swallowing him. You hear a short grunt and feel his big hand on your head, holding you down. You focus on breathing through your nose, your tongue licking the underside of his cock while your throat tightens around him. 

Finally he releases his grip, and you pull back enough to lick him properly, sucking on the tip with your pursed lips. Then he’s in your mouth again, and you’re moving your head back and forth, looking up at his face as you repeatedly take him halfway down your throat. 

His hand is now resting on your head, not applying any pressure but threading his fingers through your hair. “Fuck, you weren’t kiddin’ about bein’ hungry for my dick!”

After a few more minutes pass, his grip tightens again, and he shoves your head down even further than before, completely cutting off your air. Then, he shoots his cum directly down your throat, forcing you to swallow every drop. 

When he releases you and pulls out of your mouth, you sputter and gasp, then you diligently get to work cleaning his cock with your tongue, savoring the taste of his cum. You’re in a hurry to get him hard again. You’ve arranged for the sessions to last forty-five minutes, and you don’t intend to end this without being thoroughly fucked. 

Thankfully, Toji has plenty of stamina. He’s hard again in no time, standing up from the chair and tearing the delicate lace underwear from your body. You wince, trying not to think about how expensive they were. 

His hands are all over you, roughly exploring every inch. When his hand dips down between your thighs, and he feels how wet you are, he grins. You’re waiting for some quip, but instead he jerks you around to face away from him and pushes your upper half face down on the table. He gives your bare ass a slap before his hands spread your cheeks. His knees push your legs apart, and with no warning, he shoves all the way inside your dripping pussy. 

You gasp at the stretch, at how fucking huge he is, but he doesn’t hesitate for a moment before he’s pounding into you. He’s probably aware of the time limit himself, so he wastes no time with letting you adjust to his size. 

He fucks you hard, so hard that your feet are knocked off the floor and your legs dangle from the table. You hold onto the edge of it with both hands, gripping it for dear life, crying out obscenely each time his tip slams into your cervix. 

“Ahh, fuck! You’re gonna break me!” you yell. 

You hear Toji laugh behind you. “I thought you could handle me!”

You rise up from the table, arching your back, and reach back with one arm to grab his shirt and get some leverage. You take one of his hands from your waist and move it down, between your pried open thighs. He takes the hint, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it vigorously, spreading your leaking fluids all around. You moan at the touch, leaning back into him, letting the pleasure overtake you. 

With a thrill, you imagine the horrified looks on the guards’ faces if they walked in. You locked the door, but they have a keycard to open it. At best it would buy you a few seconds. But the thought of being caught moaning and cumming on a murderer’s cock sends you over the edge. You cry out, your body spasming as Toji impales you, your aching pussy clenching around him. 

“You got yours,” you hear him say, his fingers giving a quick pinch to your hyper sensitive clit, “now I’m gonna fill you up.”

You barely have time to process those words before you feel his hot cum shoot inside you, all the way to your core. 

When he’s finished, he pulls out and tucks himself back into his pants. He watches you lean against the table for a few moments, trembling and trying to catch your breath, too exhausted and sore to even close your legs. But you have to straighten yourself out. The clock is ticking. You stagger over to your pile of clothes and pull them back on, shoving your shredded underwear into your bag. 

You look at him, sitting there looking so smug and calm… and so very fuckable. You reach into your bag and pull out the item you swiped from the security room earlier. You step over and hand it to him. 

“This is a master keycard. It should let you open any door until they figure it out. Do whatever you please with it,” you tell him. 

He takes it, slipping it into the pocket of his sweats. “Awful nice of you.”

“Go and see your son. Make things right with him.”

His eyes widen, then he looks away, seeming the slightest bit awkward for the first time. “You’ll get fired if anyone finds out.”

You shrug. “So I won’t let anyone find out. Don’t snitch on me.”

He laughs as he looks back at you. “Thanks, doll. I’ll find you on the outside.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Is that a threat?”

He smiles, the scar on his lips stretching. “It’s a promise.”

[scariusaquarius]

rehab. 9.

Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Winter Soldier! Fem! Reader

Summary: While on a mission to find any more possible super soldiers that were a part of the Winter Soldier program, Steve and Bucky make a discovery in an abandoned HYDRA base that was cleared out a few years prior to their mission. They discover the Reader, a long-forgotten soldier that was still asleep within a functioning cryostasis pod; still awaiting orders. While Bucky isn't happy about it, he is put up to the challenge of helping to rehabilitate the soldier in Wakanda where she may be able to become a person again.

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A/n: Things are starting to go according to plan, but is it a good thing...or a bad thing teehee I don't feel as this is my best work, i have such a killer migraine rip but I do hope you guys enjoyed! I definitely skimped on the action scenes ;-; If you would prefer to read Rehab on Archive, you may do so right HERE!

This is an au where Bucky joined the avengers but still rehabilitated in Wakanda (sometime before Infinity War [canon divergent cause NOPE]). I am NOT fluent in Russian, so I did use google translate cause I couldn't find a good translator that I trusted. If anything is wrong, PLEASE let me know!! Also, I tried to list as many warnings as possible so you know what the story will contain as chapters are posted. Stay safe!

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Genre: Slowburn, Enemies to Lovers/Friends to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Humor, Drama, Dark Content Rated: Explicit Warning: Angst, Dark Content: Graphic Depictions of Sexual Assault, Blood and Gore, Mentions of Manipulation, Kidnapping, Canon-Typical Violence, Body Horror, Nonconsensual Body Modification/Scarring, Emotional and Physical Abuse, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts/Ideation, Graphic Depictions of Human Remains, Mentions of Sexual Coercion/Manipulation, Death, Misuse of Drugs/Forced Drugging, Self-Harm (Graphic Depictions and Mentions), Nightmares

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Author: ScariusAquarius

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rehab masterlist. chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 8

The city of Gützkow, Germany, was a small and slightly medieval town that was situated in the Northeast. It's population was considerably small with only about 3,000 people occupying the historical town. It was the perfect place to lay low in, but with small towns came lots of talk.

When newcomers or visitors would come, the word spread like wildfire. Thankfully, Natasha and Bucky knew how to blend right in. They were walking around in casual clothing, Natasha wearing a babushka tied beneath her hair, and Bucky was wearing a hat with sunglasses and a surgical facemask.

They were scouting; on the look-out for anybody that looked suspicious to them while blending in with the other tourists that were in the town. Their comm links sparked to life, making the two jolt slightly as Tony's voice came through.

"You guys have got to try the Jaegerschnitzel here at the hotel. I don't think it's got actual jaeger in it though, it's missing that 'why did i put this in my mouth' taste."

"Tony, are you seriously eating right now?"

Steve sounded annoyed, and Tony replied.

"Oh, I'm sorry that I'm a hungry growing boy, cap. Not everyone can be all muscles and conditioned like you."

T'Challa's annoyance rang loud as he hissed through the comm links.

"Would you both get it together? We're on a mission, not vacation."

Natasha muttered, hiding it behind her hand as she coughed slightly.

"You're telling me."

As they walked, Bucky could see a group of men walking out of an alleyway; wearing mostly black and looking as if they were looking for something or someone. Bucky stated as he looked over at Natasha to look as though he was deep in conversation.

"Got company at 12 o'clock. 6 EC's. I can't tell if they're armed."

Steve hummed in response.

"Let's assume they are. Do we have a visual on Rollins?"

"No. He doesn't seem to be with them."

T'Challa's voice came over the comms again, saying as the wind whipped past his mic.

"He is probably lying low so he doesn't get recognized...or doesn't get caught on camera."

Natasha then observed, watching as they grabbed a few take-out boxes and began to walk down the street.

"Seem to be on food delivery for today. Let's see where they're servicing."

Bucky and Natasha began to move slowly, inconspicuously following the men, and they cut behind an alleyway to walk on the opposite side of the building so the group of men didn't notice them. From above, Bucky could see T'Challa soaring over the roofs, staying as low as he could so pedestrians didn't see him.

The men turned down a narrow alleyway, and their steps seemed to quicken. They unexpectedly when down a flight of steps into a door that was situated in the side of the building. Bucky frowned, and Natasha hummed.

"This must be where Rollins has been hiding...right underneath everyone's nose."

Tony then cut in, asking.

"So, what's the plan? You wanna just...knock on the front door?"

"Tony, do not."

Steve hissed with an annoyed tone, and Tony sighed before he dropped down right behind the group of men.

"Sorry, I have an appointment that I just can't miss. You understand, right?"

Steve began to berate the man as Tony engaged the group, knocking them out one by one, and Bucky couldn't help but to glare into the eyes of the Iron Man mask.

"Really? You couldn't let Natasha and I do this? Rollins might know that we're here now."

"Guess we better hurry then. Hop to it, gang, we've got a mystery to solve."

Natasha snuck in first, carefully and quietly neutralizing guards that were in the hallway, and Bucky came in behind her and went through the doorway. The two of them began to engage four guards that were in a common area of the basement.

While Bucky harshly head-butt one of the agents and knocked them out, Steve's shield came flying into the stomach of the other, effectively incapacitating them. Bucky glanced back to see Steve standing in the doorway in his suit, glaring at Tony as he caught his shield.

"Tony, you were supposed to wait on the other side of the building in case they had an escape route."

"I thought Mufasa could handle it."

T'Challa hissed with disdain into his mic.

"I am a panther, not a lion!"

"Okay, does Kitty Claws work?"

Bucky just groaned and declared.

"Can we please focus? Steve and I will go down the left hallway, you and Natasha can go down the right. T'Challa can watch the south exit while Clint watches the North exit."

Steve then frowned, asking.

"Wait a minute, has anybody heard from Clint?"

Suddenly, there was a high-frequency interference that made everyone clutch their ears, and Clint's apologetic voice came over the line.

"I am so sorry, everyone, I couldn't figure out how to get my hearing aids to connect to the server. No movement so far, nobody's gone in nor out, but I have it covered."

Natasha couldn't help but to snort and Tony shook his head.

"I told you that I could update your ears for you."

"I'm not interested in being able to hear you 24/7 Stark, but thanks for the offer. I'm turning my ears down now."

Clint went quiet, and Steve instructed.

"Let's get a move on. The quicker we get this done, the better."

The group split up, and Bucky and Steve began to carefully go down the hallway. Bucky's ears were straining, listening for anybody that might be in the rooms on either side of the hallway, and Steve approached the door at the end of the hall. From within, Bucky and Steve could hear a man speaking that sounded a lot like Rollins.

He gave Bucky a look before nodding, and he kicked the door in with a grunt. The door splintered and came flying off of the hinges, and Bucky raised his gun, glaring down his sight at the empty room. There was a recorder propped up against a microphone, and Steve frowned when Bucky got a haunted look across his face.

"What is it, Bucky?"

"The trigger words...they're reciting her trigger words!"

Steve looked grave and he immediately called within his comm link.

"We got an emergency. Rollins isn't here, but he's got a device broadcasting the soldier's trigger words. We need to get back to Wakanda immediately!"

Tony's voice came over the comm link, sounding slightly out-of-breath.

"A bit busy, Cap! We've got a bunch of hostiles. No sign of Rollins yet either!"

Bucky slid behind the desk, crushing the recorder, and he stated.

"Fuck, they implanted some type of advanced radio within the neural tissue of the soldier's brain that's seemingly undetectable from CT and MRI's. It says that it's engineered to emit controlled radio waves, operating on low-frequency electromagnetic waves that interact with the brain's electrical signals."

Tony hummed after a moment of grunting and huffing.

"It's basically like a small speaker. Whatever they want the subject to hear, they can relay to them through that chip."

Steve instructed.

"We need to get to Wakanda immediately. Tony, can you get us there quickly?"

"I can't get us there in enough time without a quinjet or unless I go alone."

T'Challa called through the mic with urgency.

"We have a way. If you are not with me within the next two minutes, I am leaving without you!"

Steve and Bucky began to jog as fast as they could to T'Challa's location where a Royal Talon Fighter was hovering and being piloted by Okoye. Clint was inside as well, and a moment later, Tony and Natasha arrived. They all jumped into the jet, and T'Challa exclaimed.

"Go!"

-SHURI-

She didn't know what had happened. It had been peaceful in the lab as Shuri ran some more programs to further break down HYDRA's programming when all of a sudden, the digital representation of the soldier's mind began to pulse with red light. The soldier had reacted physically as well, clutching their head and screaming.

Within real time, Shuri watched as her safeguards were destroyed and the whole brain went completely red. When the soldier stopped screaming, Shuri was horrified to watch as she turned around, and the Winter Soldier was back.

Shuri exclaimed to the other scientists that were in the lab to evacuate before initiating a lockdown on the lab. The soldier had wasted no time, bounding across the lab and throwing lab equipment out of her way before she began to punch the door. There was a energy barrier that was installed in the door, repelling her punches.

However, the barrier was weakening with every punch, and Shuri began to curse in Xhosa before calling her brother. With no time wasted, T'Challa answered the call.

"Shuri! They have some sort of chip installed in her brain that is like a speaker. You must get away from her! The Winter Soldier has been activated!"

"How is that possible? I scanned her brain completely! There's no way I wouldn't have noticed!"

T'Challa clicked his tongue loudly, replying.

"They made it with the intention of it never being found. Stark said it's within her neural tissue."

Shuri cursed again as the woman slammed against the barrier again, shattering it before she began to punch at the door again. Shuri watched as the door began to bend, and Shuri stood up, members of the Dora Milaje standing around her.

"Evacuate the Citadel! Protect the people!"

"We can see the Citadel. Hold on, Shuri!"

The lab door suddenly flew off of the hinges, and as the kingdom went on lockdown, the lights flickered. The soldier stalked out of the doorway, and Shuri stood protectively with her vibranium gauntlets readied.

"Isithunzi, please stand down! I don't want to hurt you!"

The woman did not respond, marching towards her, and Shuri shot her gauntlets, the soldier flying backwards and skidding on the ground. Shuri frowned, calling again in Russian.

"Отойди, солдат!"

The soldier faltered for a moment, but she stood up with an angry sneer on her face. As she walked, the feeling of dread filled Shuri, and the Dora Milaje immediately began to engage.

Despite the soldier's weakened state, she still fought as if she was in prime condition. Dodging spears and swinging her fists, the soldier was a beast.

There was no other way to describe the way the soldier fought. She was calculated and cold with her movements as she engaged the Dora Milaje.

She threw one of the women into another, letting out a roar of frustration, and Shuri exclaimed.

"Do not hurt her! Try to incapacitate!"

The Dora Milaje immediately changed their approach, and though they were coordinated and quick, the soldier seemed to anticipate every move that they made.

Once the Dora Milaje were taken down, the soldier began to advance towards Shuri. Shuri stood at the ready, a bead of sweat running down her temple.

As the soldier advanced, the wall to her left suddenly exploded, Iron Man tackling the woman straight through the opposite wall. Shuri gasped as T'Challa and the Avengers came barreling into the room. The king ran to Shuri, asking her.

"Are you hurt?"

"No, but our walls are!"

T'Challa shook his head before he quickly yanked the two of them out of the way of a stray gurney; glass shattering and the bed creating sparks as it slid across the ground. Natasha came barreling through the hole, and she groaned softly once she stopped sliding on the ground before looking up at Shuri.

"Hey, you wouldn't happen to have an extra pair of those gauntlets, would you?"

Shuri shook her head, shrugging.

"Only the prototypes."

Natasha huffed, and Clint came to her side, checking her over before shaking his head and grabbing an arrow that was glowing blue.

"I need you guys to give me an open shot!"

Within the lab, the soldier was currently being crowded and held down by Steve and Bucky, her feet kicking and teeth gnashing as she tried to escape. Tony slapped a collar onto her neck, and when the two super soldiers let her go, Clint took his shot and electrocuted the soldier. The electricity triggered the collar, and harsher voltage began to course through the soldier's body.

The soldier screamed before dropping, convulsing on the ground, and Bucky wiped his nose of blood. Tony's mask slid off, and he shook his head.

"I feel like that could have been a lot worse. I think even you pack a harder punch than she did, MC 1."

Bucky huffed, muttering with an exasperated look.

"She hasn't been properly fed and hydrated in a long time, so she's not exactly in prime condition. If she had been, this would have been a lot worse."

Steve looked over at Shuri as the princess stepped through the door with a grave expression while T'Challa looked angry. Steve immediately apologized, guilt running deep within his mind.

"I'm sorry, Shuri, I didn't know."

Shuri raised her hands, shaking her head.

"It's not your fault. I feel so stupid that I did not think about the possibility of them installing a physical failsafe, not just a mental one."

T'Challa was silent, and Okoye looked livid. The woman stayed quiet, however, and Natasha said as Clint walked her into the lab.

"To be fair, it seems like relatively modern technology that they could have installed recently. We know that she's been active since 1985, and to my knowledge, they didn't have that type of technology then."

T'Challa then decided, crossing his arms.

"Then let us get this lab cleaned up so we may locate the chip and extract it. We must play it safe as we don't know if Jack Rollins still has another communicator."

The Citadel was released from lockdown, and the lab lit up. Shuri opened up a hologram of the soldier's brain, pointing at the large portions of red that had showed up again.

"Her activation completely rendered my safeguards useless. What I can do is reinstall them, begin to locate the chip and extract it, and then begin rehabilitation once more."

T'Challa couldn't help but to say.

"Is rehabilitation still possible?"

"Yes, it is."

Shuri looked stern, and T'Challa just sighed. Tony glanced around the lab and began to ask Shuri about the different equipment that she had while the soldier was placed onto the cryostasis pod bed. Bucky moved back after strapping her in, and Steve shook his head.

"I should have known."

Bucky gave Steve an incredulous look, his blue eyes wide with exasperation as he looked at the upset Captain.

"How could we have known? I know HYDRA implanted trackers into every subject, but even I wasn't aware that they experimented with technology like this."

Steve had a forlorn look on his face, and Natasha spoke as Clint stood by, tilting his head as he looked at the soldier.

"Don't do that to yourself, Steve, none of us knew. Not even Shuri."

Steve looked defeated, and Clint hummed in thought as he gazed at the sleeping soldier.

"You know, she doesn't even look any older than 25."

His statement made Steve shake his head, and Bucky muttered as the wounded began to file in and begin medical treatment.

"Let's just figure out how to get that chip out."

-

STORY NOTES: Steve, Bucky, Natasha, Tony, T'Challa, and Clint all go to Gützkow, Germany, to locate Jack Rollins. While Bucky and Natasha are scouting on the ground, Clint and T'Challa are on the roofs. Steve is stationary on the opposite side of the town, and Tony is at a restaurant.

Natasha and Bucky spot a group of suspicious looking men that are carrying boxes of food, and they begin to follow them. They arrive at an entrance that is hidden within the alleyway, and Tony decides to engage immediately despite Steve's orders not to. Unable to wait, the Avengers begin to infiltrate the secret base. After engaging and incapacitating most of the agents, the Avengers split up to cover more ground.

Steve and Bucky arrive at a room at the opposite side of the building, and they discover that Rollins is nowhere to be found. However, they find that a voice recorder is playing the soldier's trigger words into a microphone. Despite crushing the device, the words have already been looping for an unknown amount of time. Bucky discovers that HYDRA implanted a chip into the soldier's brain that emits radio waves that translate into words; allowing HYDRA to remotely activate the soldier.

Upon finding this out, T'Challa calls Okoye to come to his location to pick him up and advises the Avengers to hurry, or he will leave them behind. In Wakanda, Shuri and the Dora Milaje are currently engaging the soldier after she has been completely reactivated. The soldier is able to disarm and defeat the Dora Milaje, but before she is able to begin engaging with Shuri, Tony breaks through the wall and attacks the soldier.

Natasha and Tony begin to engage the soldier, but the soldier is able to throw Natasha off and back out of the lab, in which Natasha asks Shuri if she has extra gauntlets that she could use. Inside the lab, Bucky and Steve arrive to give Tony backup, and they are able to detain the soldier.

Tony puts on a collar that delivers high-voltage shocks to incapacitate the soldier, and Clint activates it after shooting the soldier with an electrified arrow. Once the soldier is taken down and put in restraints, she is immediately put into cryostasis for the time-being.

Steve then apologizes to Shuri, but Shuri brushes him off and tells him that she feels stupid for not considering the possibility of HYDRA implanting a chip as a physical safeguard alongside the use of mind-control techniques. T'Challa suggests that they remove the chip as fast as possible, and the Avengers begin to administer first-aid while beginning to research how to remove the chip.

TRANSLATION:

Jägerschnitzel - An Austrian meal that is made with veal and a creamy sauce that is usually made with mushrooms, tomatoes, or by itself

EC - Military Lingo for Enemy Combatants

Isithunzi - Xhosa for Shadow/Shade

Отойди, солдат! - Stand down, Soldier!

TAGLIST: @tilldeathripsusapart @vicmc624 @mgchaser @aash3 @samfunko @seventeen-x

[amywritesthings]

silver underground. | chapter 21

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 3.8k Summary: day 163 - also know as the day your world changed Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - mentions of violence, death, bloodshed; miscommunications; amnesia trope; angst af

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CHAPTER 21

Bergamot. 

He smells like fresh dirt and home and bergamot.

A pair of arms cocoon around you, holding you in place. Cradling the back of your head, lifting it from touching the ground, is a strong palm. 

Sounds of the outside world are muffled; distant.

Here all you can hear is the wild thumping of your heart, your blood strongly coursing through your veins.

I am alive.

I am alive.

I am alive.

The crash happened so fast—

Falling from the sky. Sliding across the forest floor. Rolling over and over and over—

Until your body stopped abruptly against a cushion of muscle.

When the dust cloud settles, when the fog fades into vapor, you open your eyes.

Shades of deep, vertical brown overtake your vision. It's so vibrant, familiar yet new. For what feels like hours you stare at a small bug, a speckled ladybug, crawling in circles until it decides to head north.

With each passing exhale your attention travels with it — up, up, up — when causation connects:

One of the mighty tree trunks of the forest broke this violent fall.

(But not just for you — he was the one to take the brunt of the damage.)

He...

When your lips part, your mouth is dry.

Constricted, confused lungs try for their very first breath.

Inhale.

Breathe.

Stay with me.

But that isn't your voice; not in your mind's eye.

Blurry images flash along your vision, sprinkling red, black, and silver against the brush and trees of the forest.

No matter how many times you blink, squeeze, tear up, the visuals scatter like materialized pins and needles.

They won't go away. They clip to your peripheral, forcing you to confront what's ahead.

Nothing is linear. Nothing is clear.

Nausea, relief, uncertainty, rage — these emotions assault your senses. Emotions. Mind.

It’s like waking up after a horrible dream.

One you’ve been kicking and screaming to leave the minute it started.

Let me out.

The freefall plays over and over, a never-ending loop of sickening weightlessness, without a means to jolt yourself awake.

Let me out, let me out, let me— 

Something mirrors your heart beat and fractures in its own rhythm, pounding erratically against your chest.

Your heart still beats, but not as panicked — not as heavy — as this.

As... his.

Him — the one who broke your fall.

(Levi.)

Without thinking, your trembling hand rises past his ribcage, up his arm, to his fingers resting on your trembling shoulder.

Then you realize it isn't your body that's shaking.

It's Levi's.

Quivering like a leaf, gasping for breath as if he’s run a marathon. 

He doesn’t move. He’s frozen in time, right where you left him.

(I’m sorry.)

Over and over, you replay precious seconds in the back of your mind — fractured memories you’ve only just begun to uncover.

Falling.

Darkness. 

(James? James, shit, wake up—)

A voice crack.

Hopelessness.

Instinctively your arms surround him, as if dissolving him into your very pores will somehow help with the confusion in your gut. 

Even when your fingers raise hire on your shoulder to glide along his, he doesn’t relax. 

If anything, his ivory muscles forge into steel.

Prepared, like you’re the enemy.

They do not soften when your fingers curl, timid and experimental, around his hand for reassurance.

(Wake up.)

They do not yield when you exhale, slow and steady.

They do not rest when you squeeze, as if to offer a sign of life.

(Please, James, don’t do this to—)

“Levi.”

Two syllables — you murmur his very name, realizing the severity of all that you’ve missed.

The dampness of the Underground City right above your heads;

The heat of the sun on a riverbank of the surface;

The light of the morning, just outside an open window, glittering over a bare shoulder;

All puzzle pieces, scattered across a large table.

They fit together in a way — you just need to figure out where.

When you inch your face away from his body, you see it: those blue-gray eyes, pupils dilated and whites wide, staring straight through you.

(As though lost in another time, in the same nothingness you’d lost yourself in for months.)

His chest heaves in and out, trying to catch a breath that just won’t come.

Wretched, heavy gasps contain the fear.

The panic.

All while reliving, too.

“Levi?” you ask once more, softer this time.

A sharp battle cry sounds above your heads. You glance high to witness the silhouette of Petra flying through the canopy of trees with a trail of steam behind her, swords extended.

The titan has been defeated. 

The forest floor quakes and shivers with its demise.

Except that isn’t how the mission happened last time.

The realization is a chilling thought creeping, infecting, the back of your mind as you return your attention to the captain in front of you.

“Levi.” 

You urge firmer this time, but it’s no use.

Levi Ackerman continues to stare ahead, but he blinks. Rapid fire, as if trying to return to his body.

This face.

You gravitate towards this face that consumes every waking dream you’ve ever had.

Caging his face between your palms, you finally snap with a command.

“Levi, look at me.”

His gray eyes shoot down, catching yours, and your entire world feels warm again.

The light in a never-ending darkness.

Your past is your present and your present tumbles into your past.

An undiscovered constellation of points in your memory that haven’t quite lined up yet, but him…

All you know is that you have missed him, this incorrigible man, lying beside you.

And all this time, it is Levi Ackerman that holds the frame of the puzzle you have been trying to solve.

Instinctively your thumbs run along his cheekbones, causing his eyes to grow impossibly wider.

Unwise, perhaps, but the softened motion brings you comfort unlike anything else, tethering bits and pieces together in the mind by touch alone.

Bits and pieces, to bigger pictures —

You — a nobody from the Underground City, meant to die by the hands of greed and saved by ones of promise.

You — a formidable fighter, a friend, a colleague, a lover.

You — Lieutenant James, member of the Special Operations squad in the Survey Corps.

Maybe you don’t have the whole story yet, but whoever she is… whoever you are…

She’s supposed to be right here.

Levi’s eyes flutter over your face as if to search for injury or damage, but he doesn’t remove his arms from your body. The captain continues to cradle you as if you'll disappear, dissolve, into the mist that swallows your very waking daydreams.

So you lean closer, murmuring just under your breath with pure wonder.

Recognition.

“I know you.”

‘You know me.’

You recall standing right in front of him months ago, begging in a stable.

Those fateful few months before you really knew how close you were to the truth.

'You know me, but you won’t help me. Why?’

That doubt on his face, deeply ingrained in curbed expectations.

It's a memory you haven’t been able to shake, not since you awoke from the hospital.

Now it twists into something much darker.

‘Because you finally have an out.’

Profound sadness infects your stomach when one jagged edge aligns with another.

The memory, fresh as morning dew on a weed, sprouts before your very eyes.

Yes, you do know him.

Yes, he wouldn’t help you.

Because you’ve been down this road before.

But not like this.

Not wrapped up like two star crossed lovers.

(That’s why you hate me.)

— suddenly your back meets the ground.

A pair of hands abruptly push you, knocking you down to the forest floor with a whoosh of a small oof from your lungs.

Your eyes connect with the bright blue sky, the twinkling of green leaves, the expanse of a bird's wing flying high above.

I know this place.

Why can't you say it out loud?

In a hasty cloud of dust, Levi's boots keep up dirt as he scrambles off of you.

To steady himself, his pale palm presses to the tree trunk. He heaves once, twice, before exhaling fully.

Breath finally returns to his body. What once was pale now has color.

When you eventually turn your gaze to him, he glares directly at you, but it isn’t cruel.

Feral, maybe, and diluted in his own confusion, but not cruel.

(You’d never witnessed someone so beautiful in your life.)

In a new light, you finally see him — a mirror image of two worlds, old and new. Of what your body misses to its very core. Of what your mind wants to remember, to know as intimately as it once did.

Slowly you roll to your belly and push up with your arms. You draw up on one knee, your hand instinctively raising to graze your neck.

There.

The silver pendant, tiny and profound, remains intact. 

The fall didn’t destroy it.

Immense relief floods your system, and your fingers cradle it like a lifeline.

'You don’t own anything. Now you do.'

That melodic baritone guides your ghost of a hand, adhering one more piece to the puzzle.

A fuller frame.

All you want to do is run to him, speak to him, hear his voice, but all you can do is watch as he cycles through the motions of getting his shit together.

Struggling through stages of anger, betrayal, relief, and longing — 

Before addressing you as Captain Levi would.

Because he doesn’t know.

He didn’t hear.

(You didn't say.)

“Are you out of your mind?”

An ironic question, all things considered. 

Your lips part to answer, but his finger raises to warn against that judgment.

A curtain of dark fringe hangs over his eyes, shoulders heaving.

“Direct insubordination against your superior,” he spits, but the edge to his voice is frayed.

He’s barely hanging on by mere threads. You want to knit them back together so badly.

“And endangering the entire squad–”

“Levi—"

“Oluo would have been fine, but you? You weren’t ready.”

Standing on both feet now, you ignore the dirt and debris on your white uniform and take a step forward in earnest. 

“Levi, if you would just—”

“I didn’t ask you to speak, James.”

His bark is as cold as ice, causing you to stop your pleas right in their tracks.

Your own wide eyes stare at him as he reprimands you, seemingly unhinged by what has transpired.

Your mouth shuts into a thin line, willing yourself to hear him out.

To hear him.

Piece by piece, the image fills—

“Commander Erwin was wrong to put you back in the Scouts," Levi growls. It’s spoken as if to convince himself of that very truth. “Abandoning your horse, defying my orders, acting without any regard for your fellow squad mates—”

He seethes, a flicker of rage fluttering across his face.

“—the recklessness of your actions could have cost not only your life, but the lives of my squad.”

“Our squad,” you correct boldly without realizing you’ve said the words out loud.

Wrong answer. His anger only grows.

“My,” he corrects viciously, “squad. You are a—”

“—Lieutenant, which is practically the same rank as you,” you blurt with your own anger, the adrenaline flushed through your veins as newfound familiarity seeps into your veins. "The titles don't mean anything. It's just shit made up for people like us."

“Excuse me?” he growls, and you don’t let up.

“And I know Commander Erwin has always favored you more, but you only pull ahead of me by two goddamn months in the Scout Regiment,” you desperately rasp, the excitement too great, “so shut the hell up and listen to me, Levi Ackerman, because I know you.”

Exhaling your frustrations in heavy heaps, you refuse to cower.

There is no reason to fear this man. There never was.

"I know you," you repeat, defeated.

As if you've confessed at the foot of his altar.

Levi, despite all of his anger, turns his chin sideways with a growing bewilderment. 

Now that you speak, you can see the dots connecting behind his very eyes. 

All you can do is hope — all you have is hope.

When he doesn't say anything, you step forward and continue.

"This whole time. This entire time you've tried... you tried to shut me out because you knew that if you did, I'd walk away."

"What?" Finally, he speaks, but his voice drops with caution.

"You said you wouldn't shut me out."

"And I didn't."

"But you wanted to give me an out, right?" you remind. "That's what you told me the day in the stables at the cadet camp."

His teeth grit. "I told you—"

"That day, you agreed to give me a second chance, but you hoped I'd get too scared in the forest and run the other way. Except I've seen things and—"

That grit dies instantly. "Wait, seen things?"

"Yes, I've seen pieces, Levi," you admit. "Pieces."

"Of—?"

"Us. Of my life." Your fire dies. "Of our life."

His jaw clenches so hard that his teeth could shatter.

Your shoulders drop, defenseless. Your hand touches the back of your head, trying to feel for where you might have hit it on the ground back then.

"You ran from me in that hospital in Trost when I woke up. You saw I couldn't remember you right away, so you thought..."

A small laugh of relief exits your mouth before you can stop it.

There are so many black spots in your mind's eye, but…

His face paves the way.

Four hearts, staring up at a skyless night; now only two remain.

"Damn it, you really thought I would never remember you when you were my entire life."

Falling.

All you’ve ever done is fall.

On your back, as a child in those fighting rings in the Underground City.

On your side, struggling to learn the inner workings of stolen ODM gear while a rambunctious boy with ash-blonde hair laughs to the sky.

On your front, when two strong arms pulled you on top of him, lips crashed to yours.

Yet Levi always held out his hand and picked you up.

Now his fists are translucent, tight at his sides, as your eyes meet.

“And so you pushed me around in hopes that I'd leave you here," you conclude sadly, "all while you blamed yourself for the rest of your days for my mistake — right?”

It’s as if you’ve confessed you’re a titan in the flesh.

Levi staggers back, the clink of his ODM gear rattling as he moves.

His eyes flutter all over your face, studying, searching—

“What the hell are you saying?” the captain croaks, unlike himself.

He stares, clearly waiting for the final blow, like you hold his entire life in the palm of your hand.

Oluo and Petra are somewhere.

And wherever they are means Gunther and Eld are likely not far behind.

They’ll approach at any moment to regroup with the Captain.

But you need him to understand—

Levi's jaws clenches again; an overwhelming flurry of emotion settling on his tongue.

He looks two seconds away from detonating.

"What did you remember?" his voice cracks, the facade shattering. "Just say it, damn it, what the fuck did you remem—"

“James!”

The panicked voice of Oluo shouts from the sky.

Petra follows not long after, attaching to the base of the tree trunks to softly find a landing on her feet.

The rest of the squad follow suit, eyes wide.

“Whoa, are you alright?” Oluo repeats, rushing forward. “The hell just happened out there?”

“Her gear got caught,” Petra replies with equal urgency. “I saw it when Captain Levi took off after you two.”

“Her gear?!” Oluo yelps.

The two of them rush over while their hands reach out, swiping your emerald cloak up and away.

They duck their attention to the gear to assess the damage.

The ODM canisters don’t look particularly busted, but the wire dangles helplessly without its spike.

You note just how nervous everyone looks.

Because everyone knows the story, you realize deep in your belly.

The story where a member of the Levi Squad fought titans and got her gear stuck, resulting in a catastrophic head injury where her memories were no more.

The one where they nearly lost one of their elite, only to result in that woman becoming a completely blank slate.

Someone that they'll never get back.

Except she's screaming in your head, slamming against your skull.

I'm here! I'm here, don't you see? I'm still here!

Eld and Gunther quickly descend next, their feet pattering with the quickness towards where you stand.

The squad surrounds you with a million questions, checking your head should there be damage.

Petra even places a gentle hand on your heart, but it’s hammering.

Alive.

Levi says nothing, does nothing; his chin ducks to his emerald collar, allowing his squad to have their time.

“You scared the shit out of us,” Gunther admits with a sigh.

“The hell were you thinking?” Eld adds.

You sheepishly shake your head, eyes still attached to Levi. “I-I wasn’t—”

“I had it, James,” Oluo counters, cutting you off. “I had that titan. You didn’t need to go back for me and almost risk your damn life.”

“Hate to say it, but I agree with Oluo,” Petra replies with a soft sigh, before pulling you in for a small hug. Your arms remain lamely at your sides. “You didn't need to prove you were badass to us, alright? We know." She lets go. "How did you cut yourself loose?”

“She didn’t.”

Levi’s voice breaks through, stopping everyone in their tracks.

He turns on a heel away from the squad, head remaining in a bow, and walks in the direction they'd arrived from.

“I caught her.”

You note the changes in expressions on the rest of the squad's faces.

Recognition smooths over their tired lines, like the significance isn’t lost on them.

Suddenly they duck their chins, too, as if ashamed for gossiping.

Only you remain with your head up, eyes square on the captain.

He does not look your way.

“Outing’s over. We’ll just have to break Four Eyes’ heart and tell them we didn’t capture any of those bastards today.”

“But we didn’t even make it halfway through,” Eld starts, turning his boot towards the captain with surprise. “We can go further.”

"Wait, we managed to clear the forest?" you ask without thinking, causing Eld and Oluo to glance your way.

Oluo’s eyebrows slide high to his hairline.

Eld’s narrow to a point.

“It… was,” Eld slowly, carefully, explains, “but the mission you — the one that you — Wait.”

"People still made it to the other side after I fell?" you exhale.

They made it.

The Scouts managed to push to the end of the forest.

The mission wasn't all for nothing.

A flurry of confused relief floods your system, yet the squad looks at you with pure confusion.

“...none of us told her about the forest debrief from last year yet, did we?” Oluo inquires, pointing to Petra. “Hey, did you snitch?”

“Huh? Snitch?!” Petra yelps. “What the hell would I snitch about? It’s not like it's a secret to anyone here what went down.”

“Yeah, but she didn’t make it long enough to see the end of it,” Gunther replies, rubbing his chin between his thumb and index finger. “And we all agreed not to bring up said mission when she woke up until she was cleared by that doctor guy she saved.”

“Doctor?” you blurt under your breath, blinking. "That I...?"

That you saved…

Albeit foggy, you remember the other team that fateful day.

Miro squad. 

There were so many names, so much chaos…

You struggle to remember the finer details, but there was someone named Rini.

An older man — or did he just look weatherworn from war?

Was it the same man from Trost?

“Wait. James.” Petra rounds you, searching your face with budding excitement. “Do you remember the last mission you were on? Is that why you’re—”

“I said the outing’s over.”

Levi's command bites off her question, and Petra falters.

“I already have one shithead disobeying instructions. Is this going to become a trend?”

The squad goes silent, turning to their captain.

“Get the damn horses back,” the captain growls. “We’ll reconvene as a group back at headquarters. That’s an order.”

“Yes, sir,” they all respond in unison.

One after the other, they offer a look of condolences to you before ascending to the skies.

Leaving Levi and yourself to remain.

In the back of your mind, you remember the odds.

Forty to eighty.

The screams of terror.

The urgency to fly through the trees.

A formation of horses…

A corner of the puzzle is complete.

Help me.

Why won’t you help me?

“Levi?” you start, and you see his face flinch at your tone. “Can we talk?”

“Not here,” he replies curtly.

“But—”

“I said not here,” he grunts, turning his chin to regard you over his shoulder. “I’m not doing this here.”

When his eyes meet yours, they soften.

Apologetic.

As if he’s teetering on the brink of giving up completely.

“Go back to your quarters,” he urges. “Clear your head. Figure out if…”

Did his voice just crack again?

You can’t help but gravitate towards his orbit, boots gently stepping closer.

“...figure out if you mean it,” he finishes, stronger now. “If you really do remember — any of this. We'll reconvene and debrief back at headquarters, but I told you: I'm not feeding you our memories. If you think you know me, then say it with your whole damn chest and hold nothing back."

His chin drops, his black fringe falling over his eyes.

You can't see what he's thinking, how he's feeling, but the way his voice turns to a whisper breaks your heart.

"I can’t keep up with these false hopes anymore.”

The necklace on your sternum burns.

Although you have a million questions, a thousand apologies, a dozen pleas, and very few certainties, you say one thing in return.

"Yes, sir."

You both stand in silence, awaiting the horses.

He stares at the ground.

You continue staring at him.

I know you.

You're the only certainty I have.

Once the rest of the squad arrives, you mount your horse and keep formation.

The sun bursts free.

There are no more trees clouding your vision.

Ahead there is an expanse of grass, reclaimed by time.

(A new start.)

Levi Squad returns to headquarters without a casualty in tow.

.

[thekirammanjinx]

I think there are some people that are overly self righteous when it comes to Arcane in particular, it’s like they have missed the entire point of the show. It’s tiring and disappointing. And it’s so much worse when a sapphic couple is involved.

Like when it comes to CaitVi, people are so critical and striving for an impossible “perfection”. I always see antis being like “well Cait is a cop! I can never support it”, “the jail scene was so icky”, “Cait should have apologized this way.” We give so many passes to heterosexual couples and m/m ships than f/f ships. People really need to pay attention to the context of the show , especially when it comes to subtle details in animation. Also like you said, relationships can be messy and unhealthy at times but that doesn’t define it for the long term. They made that clear about Caitlyn and Vi tbh.

Sorry for the long one but I’m just tired of the constant negativity

Truly people are so self righteous and pretentious. Like no you're not morally better than anyone because you don't like the fictional "cop ship"(as if a million of these dont exist for m/f). People truly did miss the point of the narrative and Cait's role in being an enforcer. A character can be a cop without the show being copaganda.(this got long thank you for the ask)

But if these people lack so much cognitive thinking that every show that involves a cop is copaganda then maybe there is no hope. Truly missing the entire narrative. A story is being told, how about stop thinking you're better than people because you think you're above it all and start actually viewing the media in front of you??

The standards that people put on f/f relationships gets so exhausting. Just because the show didn't unravel in the way they would want in some fanfiction then they deem it bad or unsatisfactory. Or suddenly the character is ooc. Actually I don't think alot of these people know the characters. They've just created a version of these characters in their own head.

Fandom has gotten into the habit of labeling everything "toxic". Like no it's not toxic. They handled real emotions poorly. They made bad decisions in the face of battling said emotions. No Cait/Vi isn't toxic or abusive. People who say they are an example of domestic violence... please for the love look up and learn what domestic violence is.

A moment of physical assault does not necessarily equate to abusive. The two can be mutually exclusive. Please read the narrative in front of you.

I don't know what moral grand standing people think they're achieving but I promise the only thing they'll be achieving is continuing to reduce the f/f representation we get on screen. Why do m/f relationships get to be bumpy and have their ups and downs but f/f have to check off every perfectionist and purist box.

Let f/f be complex. Let f/f relationships that exist in complex universes be complex. Let there be moments that they regret because they lashed out because of their emotions. Let female characters be well rounded.

Speaking of details of animation. This show is so richly crafted, there's so much put into the facial expressions and posture and everything. This is visual media people. Please learn to take in the full picture this is not an audio book or podcast. Watch with your eyes please.

Speaking of giving m/f a pass, i love timebomb but nobody says they're toxic or talks about how jinx was terrible to ekko and the firelights. They got one au episode and suddenly forget all that happened before then? Nobody is begging for an apology there. Nobody is talking about how jinx could've killed them both on the bridge. Or how they had little interaction outside of those scenes if any.

Caitvi is deemed rushed or unsatisfying but they had to pull in an au episode/timeline for ekko to reach out to jinx. People say Vi only arc is in Caitlyn(guess we forgot about vander and jinx--again over simplifying a character story just because it's not what they wanted to see), but what was ekko arc at the end?

I'd be fine if people were giving the same energy across the board but no. Once again we are here watching people tear down a f/f ship.

"We deserve better" bitch China won't even let the girls talk to each other on screen and rest their head on each other's shoulders. Get a grip.

[sunofpandora]

Authors note:

AYEEEE CHAPTER TWO

Wow! I was not expecting all the kind comments and the taglist requests from chapter 1. I’m genuinely in shock, still. The comments and reposts got me teary eyed. 

                                                                   V I R A G O            

Word count: 6k       

Chapter 2

The son sun made of stone  

words.

𝓭𝓮𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓵𝓼/𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼/𝓼𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼/

‘Y/n was made of fire. Oh, a goddess girl with lips of lightning and a caged Phoenix under her skin. Neteyam is just the ashes and remains of the heavens she crushed under her heel.’

General Warnings: na’vi reader/ reader is a war orphan/ as always, spider, the reader, and Lo’ak are a trio/ Lo’ak and Reader being platonic soulmates?/ Spider and Reader being trauma twins/ Neteyam being lovesic/ Neteyam being nervous and shy around reader/ Neytiri being mother/ Jake being the husband i wish i had/ Tuk being a little sister and looking up to y/n/ Mentions of grace’s school./ reader fell first but Neteyam fell way harder/ sun x moon relationship 

Chapter 2 warnings: jealous neteyam/ mentions or anxiousness/ mentions of war and death/flirting/ mentions of dead animals/ mentions of grief and injuries/

Extra info:

Y/n is one year younger than neteyam, she is 18 and he is 19.

Lo’ak is 18 and Kiri is also 19. Tuk is 7-8 and spider is 19.

Extra characters: 

Ka’lik (y/ns father. A deceased warrior of the Omaticaya clan)

Zensira (y/n’s mother. deceased best singer and head songstress of the Omaticaya clan)

Makeyo (a warrior of the omaticaya clan. The same age as neteyam and went through iknimiya the same day as well. A filthy simp for y/n)

Kailo (Y/n’s ikran. Your ikran is a male ya’ll. sorry.)

Popiti (tuk’s best friend according to the visual dictionary)

Chapter two synopsis:

Neteyam comes to return y/n’s bracelet and has some internal conflict about his feelings towards her. Makeyo attempts to make a move on y/n and Neteyam experiences a different type of burning in his heart.

Neteyams Pov (trying something new by writing from neteyams pov as a little experiment. Lemme know how yall like it.)

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆

“Neteyam”

For a moment the sound of my name leaving her lips in a breath is almost enough to forget myself and drop to my knees. 

The tuft of my tail thwacks the back of my head gently and i force my heartbeat to endure boundaries.

 I clear my throat, finding the words.

My eyes fan over her figure.

The moonlight contours the crevices of her curves. Her eyes, an amorous gold, spark themselves luminous. Almost Neon in the darkness of night. 

There's a bandage around her torso, and one around her left bicep. Her skin smells of grandmother's salves and wooden bowls.

It’s funny how fast the memories flood back. 

There was a time before she was made of fire.

Well, actually, I don't think that’s a fair statement.

There was always a spark. Always that small flicker refusing to perish even in strong winds.

I have memories of playing in the stream with my siblings and Y/n, and occasionally spider.  

She’d chase me. Her feet assaulted the shin deep water with the harsh sloshing of her feet. She tackled me and pulled on my tail. The sunburst air is sweet like nectar against our glistening skin and shrieks of laughter and springtime memories. 

Her laughter challenges the brightness of the sugared sun rays that danced through the canopy, it shakes the stars with its loud singing.

The scattered droplets of water seize on her skin as she chases lo’ak, carrying a smaller spider on her back.

Now she stands before me. Taller, stronger, a warrior in all its forms. 

I clear my throat once again, my eyes flickering over her body.

“How are you? Grandmother was able to treat you?”

She nods, leaning lightly against the wooden entrance frame of the marui.

“The wounds could have been worse. Mo’at was able to clean up the wounds just fine. Tsahik suggested i rest here for the night..’

She trials off, clicking her tongue as she gently taps her finger against the bandage.

The dwindling echoes of our breaths gently keep the silence afloat.

My eyes flicker up when her voice catches my ears.

“You? Any injuries?”

I shrug. “A few scratches. Nothing Serious. Lo’ak has a small bruise on his head but he’ll be fine. Mother treated us earlier.”

Something somber in her irises flickers. It’s small, but its not quiet. I open my mouth to speak but like most other things between us, she beats me to it.

“Why did you fly down there today? You could have been killed.”

There’s a hiss at the endnotes of her voice. And I don't blame her for being pissed. Not for a second.

I frown, I can feel my tail thump lightly against the ground.

“Lo’ak flew his way down there first. I wet after him.”

My confession trails a veil of blankness behind it that lingers in the air. She shakes her head, staring down.

“It’s not a thing of fault. I should have been more responsible. Im the older brother, after all-”

“Bullshit.”

The suddenness of her words make me pause. It wasn’t unexpected, but it seems a bit more vague than usual. Even for her.

“Y/n i-”

“No. No, Neteyam this has to come to an end. You can’t keep taking the fall for him. How many times will you let yourself fall off a cliff before you learn not to justify the one who pushed you off the ledge?”

I’m quiet for a moment. I feel another frown etch itself onto my lips.

“I must hold myself accountable as well. I am the future leader of this clan. If i cannot even keep my siblings out of trouble, how will I protect my people?” 

I’m sure loak had told her of the scolding we received from my father.

She takes a step closer, the fire in her gaze challenges all it sees. My heartbeat speeds up its sympathy.

“Then who protects you, Neteyam?”

I’m still for a moment. My throat hitches quietly and my words come up short.

She takes a breath and shifts herself back a bit, rubbing two fingers to her temple.

Her eyes creased with exhaust. I can tell the day has drained her.

“I’m sorry. I spoke out of line.”

“You never have to apologize to me.”

I can tell it surprises her a bit. How fast my words chased after her own.

My hesitation creeps its way through the blanket of gray that treads along the silence.

I clear my throat once again, averting my gaze.

“I’m glad you returned safely. I was worried sick.”

She chuckles and gently flips the small spiral in her hand.

“Had my lucky charm on my bow today. I guess i have you to thank.”

I cannot help but feel an ache every time I see that damned spiral. Iv’e tormented myself with an object so small it's pathetic. Really. A substitution for the words i couldn't speak.

I force a smile, a gentle chuckle to follow along.

“Well. I see its made some sort of use.”

She nods and places it gently back into the pocket of her loincloth.

I find myself doing the same, fishing around my own pocket until i hear the small clatter of beads.

Ihold her bracelet out to her.

“Here. You lost this today.”

She gasps softly. My heart beckons for my unspoken yearning whenever i saw her eyes light up like that. And fuck, I curse myself for looking away.

She placed it back on her wrist.

“Thank you, Neteyam. I would have been looking for days.”

When her fingers brush my palm a new wave of sun-streaked warmth swallows my chest in the pale moonlight.

“You don’t have to thank me.”

I would do anything for you.

She chuckles softly and I swear I feel my knees buckle at the sound.

All I can do is stare at her for a moment. My eyes tracing her curves and imagine it’s my fingertips, kissing my small apologies onto her skin.

The small breeze wisps at the small loose hairs that edged at her forehead, scattered out of her braids. Her scent is sweet. Her eyes are wondrously doe-like. 

I wish i could pocket the sounds of her laughter. I wish i could reach for her and brush her skin against mine if it meant even a second of her warmth is relished in. 

I want her. All of her. I want her fire even if it burns me. I want her wild high-tide seas even if they drown me. I want her heart even if I must beg for it. I want her lips, and her hands. I want every rough edge and every smooth surface.

It finds a way to bind me in its threshold of longing before I even register what I've done.

My hand reaches out. The planes in the lines of my palm rest against her cheek and the pad of my thumb rubs small circles on the small temple of a space in front of her ear.

I’d forget I ever existed if it was convenient for her.

There was a time I pretended she didn’t exist. Where fear and thought collided with my panic.

Years ago. After I gave her that spiral.

I made her mere presence become a voidance in my life. A small patch of blankness that traced her shape.

There’s a reason this void stands between us. I hurt her. And I will never forgive myself for it.

I was afraid. I was afraid of what my feelings would do to me. Of what it would do to the future olo’eyktan of this clan. I feared distraction. I feared devotion. And now i yearn for it. Call it a punishment, call it karma or something more. All I know is that I pushed her away. It of my arms, out of my circle, and I thought giving her that spiral would fix my mistakes.

It hurts me. The look in her eyes when I avoided her around the village. The way her gaze chased after me when i walked away

I was 15, afraid and stupid. I still haven’t forgiven myself from keeping her out of my circle.

Now I stand before her. This woman I may never deserve. This beautiful woman who will forever hold my heart in her hands.

She stares at me. But it's full of a sour memory that resonates on the edge of her tongue.

“Neteyam..”

There it is. How she says my name.

Fuck.

Fuck, why did I ever think, even for a mere moment my heart wasn’t hers?

Say it again.

Say it again,y/n please i beg you.

But I don't dare say it aloud.

Instead I whisper to her, my thumb stopping its movements for a moment as i cradle her head.

“Y/n, yawne. I am so, so sorry I didn't protect you today. I couldn't bare the thought of you in danger. “

She pushes my hand away, and for a moment the moonlight feels bitter.

“I don’t need your protection.”

It’s not that I think I don't deserve that.

But is it wrong for it to still ache?

“Y/n. please-”

“It is late, neteyam. I wish to rest now. Please.”

Theres a small tremble in the endnotes of her voice.

And i want to strangle the one who caused her this.

But what more can i do when i caused it myself?

I take a step back, gently bowing my head.

My eyes linger on her for a moment longer.

“Good night, Y/n.”

“Good night, Neteyam.”

As the tent flap closes, I take a step back. Staring up at the moon through the large crevices that topped the mountain of highcamp.

Maybe she doesn't belong in my arms.

I ache for her at night. I dream of holding her. I beg for the figment of her not to feebly collapse into  stardust and watch her wither out of my grasp. Her arrow aims at my heart and I tell her of my heartache.

She says nothing as I’m on my knees for her. Her glare is a cryptic mockery. She weakens me. Every moment of this fleeting moment within my reverie is a punishment. The morning sunset is bitter and the sky feels skeletal. 

To her my devotion is a joke and all I can think of is how fucking beautiful she is when she laughs.

I had a dream once that I kissed her. I kissed her until I couldn’t breathe. She tasted dark and delicate. 

I am hers. I was always hers. 

I’d let her ruin me.

Unravel every piece of me and stitch back together what left is salvaged of those small fragments and watch as they spell out her name.

Y/n.

Y/n.

Y/n.

Y/n.

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ 

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ 

The next morning was calmer than yesterday to say the least.

Lo’ak went with my father to hunt.

Kiri went with my grandmother to help in the Tsahik tent.

Y/n was off with her own duties, and that left me to help my mother in our family's marui.

Oh yeah, did I mention Tuk?

It wasn’t abnormal that I often found myself conversing with Tuk.

She sits in with her smaller legs tucked under her body. Her hands are much like mine and my mothers, but small and juvenile. They lack gracefulness as they scramble with my braids, slipping the beads she made all by herself (Kiri helped) into my braids. She giggles when I tell her about my hunts. She smacks my forehead with her palm when I tilt my head the wrong way. She climbs over me in all sorts of odd ways while I wince every now and then at the occasional stepping on of my tail.

“Teyam. Stop looking down!”

Tuktirey huffs and my head snaps up, all my attention shifting to my youngest sibling.

“Ah. sorry tuk-tuk.”

She sighs dramatically and continues stringing the beads into my hair.

I smile at my youngest sister. I was close with Tuk. me and her being the only two children out of my siblings that closely resembled my mother’s na’vi features. I don’t credit myself completely. I don’t think it's fair to say that my mother and fathers genes are divided narrowly. Lo��ak my have my fathers appearance but he wields my mothers rebelliousness with pride. Her survival instincts. Her thrill for a chase. Her fire and her wind. Grandmother always found herself amused whenever my mother found herself annoyed with Lo’aks antics. Apparently my mother was no different when she was his age. Chasing rainstorms and dancing through fire. Grandmother always says lo’ak is my mothers shadow.

Me, on the other hand? i've always strived to be like my father. I still do. I remember sitting around a fire as a small child, listening to stories of his days of battle and heroicness. I don’t glorify my father as much as I did then. But he’s still the same man to me, all the same.

Tuk is in the middle of rambling about her morning gossip she gathered from Popiti, as she strings another bead onto my braids.

It's a bit of a guilty pleasure, I suppose. Being entertained by other’s conflicts.  Certainly not proper behavior for the eldest son of toruk makto. Alas, what kind of big brother would I be if I didn't let Tuk carry herself away with her words without worry?

I can’t hide that I enjoy it. But telling myself its for tuk helps a bit.

“And then what?” I query Tuk softly, urging her to continue her story.

She giggles before placing a green colored bead on my braids.

“Well, Popiti’s big sister, Kyuna, didn’t take Takuk’s courting gift!”

I gasp, over-exaggerating my shock to amuse my younger sister, she nods, equally as shocked.

“I know, right!?”

I shake my head, feining disappointment as Tuk giggles.

“My eywa. Poor Takuk.”

Tuk nods, patting down my braids gently.

I try to look over to my right side at where she sat without turning my head.

“Did she say why?”

Tuk shrugged.

“Popiti heard her mom and Kyuna talking. Kyuna said that she didnt want Takuk for a mate.”

I nod, fidgeting with my beaded choker.

“Huh. Well then, good for Kyuna. She knows what she wants, i guess.”

I trail off with my own internal theories.

I knew Kyuna. She was a young healer in the clan. I didn’t care for her much. She was a bit cocky. Always had some excuse for getting out of tasks she didn’t feel like completing.

I also knew Takuk.

I had been in hunting groups with him. We went through iknimaya training together. He was smart. A fine huner. A decent provider. He seemed like a fine mate for anyone. 

Tuk suddenly gasped, her ears twitching as she stared up at me with her big eyes.

“Teyam! You could be Kyuna’s mate!”

I still at her revelation, she blinks at me with baited breath for  response.

I cant help but chuckle as i ruffle the smaller girl’s braids.

“It's a kind offer, Tuk. But I'm not ready to mate yet. Remember what I told father?” 

Who could forget? The most awkward family dinner in the world where i pleaded with my father to give me more time before I choose a mate. My siblings watching as me and my father bickered for a good hour. I think its really the only time iv’e stood up to him. Disagreed with him. My father has been patient since then when it comes to finding my tsahik. But the only reason he is because of my mother finally convinced him to give it a rest.

Finding a mate can be a long process for some.

I already knew who i wanted my mate to be. There wasn’t any debate. And I will wait for her. I will wait to earn her trust back. For as long as it takes. I will be hers for when shes ready. I am hers even when she’s not. That is a promise I refuse to break.

Tuk huffs.

“But whyyyy? Kyuna is pretty. Not as pretty as mama or kiri or y/n-

But she’s not mated.”

I sigh and gently rub Tuk’s back.

“You’ll understand when you’re older. I promise.”

She huffs again but nods, going back to braiding my hair.

Shes in the middle of telling me about the big fish she caught when my father took her to the creek the other day when my mother enters the tent, a basket of fruits under her arm.

I straighten up a bit and Tuk gasps happily, standing to her feet and jogging over to my mother.

“Mama! You’re back!”

She hugs my mothers waist, and my mother places a hand on tuks head while trying to balance the basket filled to the brim with yovo fruits.

I stand up, gently taking the basket from under her arm, chuckling softly.

“Here, Sa’nok. (mother) Let me take that for you.”

She sighs in releif, nodding at me, now fully embracing tuk with two free arms.

“Irayo (thank you) Neteyam.”

Tuk sits back down in her previous spot and i carry the basket to the small wooden table, placing it down.

“Nice haul today?”

She smiles at me. “The new grove has almost completed its growth cycle. It's almost time for a new harvest.”

I nod, making a mental reminder to tell my father that later so he can organize more foraging groups. 

“Mama, look at how pretty Neteyam is.”

My mother gently examines my newly beaded braids with her fingers, gently taking each braid between her thumb and her palm.

“Very good work, tuktirey. You should help me do mine later. Why don’t you go to your grandmothers tent, hm? I left a large bowl of new beads on the far side corner, near her salve pouch.

Her eyes sparkle and before my mother can say another word, Tuk is racing out of the tent flap.

I laugh along with my mother, and she sits, starting to cut up some fruits.

“Ma’itan, could you help me with this?”

I nod, unsheathing my knife and sitting down next to her, helping her peel some fruits.

A silence fills the air for a moment, until my mothers soft, accented voice breaks through the gray.

“What troubles you, Neteyam?”

Of course she knew.

I was born from the pieces of my mothers ash-littered broken promises and my father’s guilt-ridden internal death sentence. 

My mother and i were tapestries weaved from the same colors.

I am my mother’s son.

She knew me like the back of her hand. She doesn’t have to recognize me by face. I know my father and my mother both love me. But when my mask cracks like this, my mother isn’t like my father. He tries to tighten it to ensure it doesn’t fall down again. My mother tries to mend the cracks.

I sigh, avoiding her gaze.

“Nothing Sa’nok. I am fine.”

I’m a shit liar. That’s just a known fact about me. She knows i’m lying. And maybe thats a good thing. Maybe she knows to just leave it be.

She chucks another fruit skin peel to the side as it forms a small pile with the other discadrded peels. 

“Is it because of your fathers words, yesterday? He was harsh, I know..But he is just afraid, Neteyam.”

That’s not what’s wrong, but I decide it's better than saying ‘hey ma i’m helplessly in love with a woman who probably hates my guts’

Daddy issues it is.

I nod, still avoiding her gaze.

“Yes. I know. Father just wants what's best for us.”

My mother sighs for a moment, pausing her movements, her knife ceasing its carving into the new fruit.

She looks over at me and she smiles.

There’s something about that smile. It’s like an echo that beckons your name. It’s like a face with lines scribbled over it. Sometimes when my mother looks at me I feel as if she’s seeing someone else. Flesh wrapped around the stories foretold under my bones. 

She see’s someone else’s shadow in my place. As if a ghost welcomes itselfinto the sequence of a wreckage of memories unknown to me. 

She speaks quietly.

“Your father and you are more alike than you may think, Neteyam.”

I can’t hep but smile at her words. Theres fanned flowers that grow under the gray cast of gilded clouds under the garden of her irises. She smiles too.

“I mean it, Neteyam. I see more of him in you every day, my son.”

I’m quiet for a moment, but my smile only falters slightly.

“What was he like, my father? When you first met him?”

My mother sighs, the infinite memories flickering past her eyes.

“When I first met your father, I was trying to kill him.”

I can’t help but chuckle. The story all too familiar to me from being told countless times as a child. But it’s not quite what im looking for.

“No, no- i know how you met but-

What was he like? Really?..”

My mother thinks for a moment, not sparing me a glance as she continues cutting her fruit.

“He was stupid. An idiot. I did not think he would survive a single day out here in the forest.”

I hum in agreement trying to visualize everything from her eyes.

“But he was..”

She sighs.

“He was persistent. Like a weak animal with no hope of survival. But it just refuses to die. Sometimes I thought the world moved twice as fast for him..he was eager. To learn, to live. To taste the wind and the sky..”

For a moment, I see a secondary shadow behind the  fragments of my parents love story.

My father told me he felt drawn to my mother from the first moment he saw her.

I see something else in place of the ghost behind the path of stars that led my mother to my father.

I see a man who yearns for a woman. I see a man on his knees, I see his devotion. I see his heart in his hands, i see his stained fingertips of an unfamiliar sleepless skin.

I see a woman so beautiful she might as well be a figment of the moonlight, and i’m jealous of the wind and the air and the breeze because of how easily it touches her skin.

I see her arrow aimed at his heart and the distrust in her eyes. I see her anger, and her betrayal as it echoes through a bitter blue heinous flame.

I see y/n. And I see her wall that kept me out.

I look at my mother, a shell of something that once was taking a new shape.

Was it possible? For history to rhyme?

“How..how long did it take you to love him? Even though he was an enemy.. Even though you didn;t trust him?”

My mother is silent for another moment.

She gently places her knife down, placing her hands on her thighs as she stared at the blank tented wall infront of her.

“I think it was foretold by the stars, ma’itan.

I hated him. I hated him because of what he was and where he came from. I hated his false demon body and i hated the way he walked, and talked. I hated his hair and his hands and his eyes. 

I hated him because of what his people took from me. I hated him because of the pain they caused my people..

The day I found him in the forest i was going to kill him. My arrow was aimed at his heart. But when the great mother spoke to me I knew better than not to listen.

I think i was always meant to meet him. To teach him my people’s ways..Because it led me to loving him. 

That morning when I returned from the tree of souls with him, 

My mother had told me if i choose this path, to be his mate, i could never be tsahik.

I told her, "He was my path.”

I’m still as i take in my mother’s words. But the clouds still creep behind my uncertain heartbeat.

“But hometree. And the war. How did you forgive him?”

My mother gently takes my hand in hers, and she takes a breath

“Ma’itan. You will someday learn that love is not easy. It is hungry. It is impatient. It is loud and it is often hidden.

Love gave me many gifts. You, your siblings, my home and my family.

But it has taken much from me all the same. 

Love is like swimming in the ocean at night. It's deep, it's dark, the shallows far from reach. But Within that darkness I found your father. I found my light, and someday you will find yours.”

Love is sacrificial. My mother was right. Love isnt easy. Love is sometimes caged and flightless, thick with bitter scents and tearstained starlight. Its bare, and its real, its bruised and blemished and its beautiful because its her. Its Y/n. My y/n. Her name is a hymn of scattered prayers lost to a dreaded dawn and a coppered colored sun. She’s made of every broken and perfect piece of the universe and the stars stumble over their words to describe her beauty

She’s the moon and i’m the sun. Withering myself away every night to allow her to shine. 

I will sacrifice. I will work. 

She has weakened me. The night sky canvases her skin while the bleakness of sunlight mosaics mine. Famined for her touch, I refuse to look away. I refuse to blink. The sky is a game of chance and the sunset swallows me whole. The scarlet screams in the hellish hues of cerise ablaze under her skin.

I will not settle for anything less than her.

Love is sacrificial. Then i will steal the night sky for her.

I softly smile at my mother before squeezing her hand.

“Thank you, mother.”

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ 

(Y/n’s pov) 

Love was a funny thing.

You used to think your love for neteyam was forged from heartbeat-rhythmed nightskies and dripping orange soaked sunsets.

It was dreamlike. Bleeding through every crevice and hidden place with its incandescence. 

He was a part of you. Apart of everything you were and everything you did.

He was in your dreams when you closed your eyes at night.

He was in the shied morning sun rays that crept over the mountain tops. He was in the wild winds and draped under midnight melodies.

Its the memories of smaller things you remember most. 

Giggling while he fumbled with an arrow when he noticed you were watching him practice. 

Helping Neytiri stitch together his cummerbund to gift to him when he had completed his iknimiya. You remember the look of pride in his eyes when he wore a piece of your handiwork to represent this new chapter in his life. Concluding his training as a hunter, and becoming a warrior.

You remember taking walks with him through the forest, and the way he would hold a branch back out of your way.

You remember hunting with him, and racing him down the trailed path. 

You remember perching on a branch and watching the stars with him. You remember his warmth as he whispered to you all the constellations his father taught him. You remember his hands gently guiding yours to trace the patterns scattered among the stars.

You remember a spark.

And then, you remember a gust of wind that dulled the warmth.

Distance. You can recall distance.

It started out small.

Frequent training with his father.

Watching his siblings.

Hunting. Preparing. Working. 

His touch became something you started to crave. Not something that came granted. You remember waiting for him. Waiting for him to return from his hunt, waiting to go stargazing. Liek he promised. You remember checking the sky, the scarlet and blue collide to signify the subduing trials of daylight making its exit.

You remember your mother asking you what you were doing outside.

“Waiting.”

Is all you responded.

You didn’t tell her what you waited for.

Waiting.

Waiting.

Waiting.

He never showed up.

As the sky darkened, it started to rain.

There weren't any stars that night anyways. spider dragged you back inside. Complaining about how he wasn’t taking care of you if you got sick. 

Maybe it wasn't rain at all. Maybe the stars didn't come out that night because they were too busy falling through the cracks left in your heart.

You felt forgotten. Unloved. Unwanted.

Lo’ak told you that Jake was always on Neteyam’s ass about his training, and thats why he was so distant.

But it wasn’t just the distance.

His eyes no longer brightened when he looked at you. Its the gaze you give someone when they’re speaking to you, and you aren’t really listening. You’re just waiting for them to be done talking.

Spider watched you come home and cry one night, listened to you scream into your palms and rant angrily for hours about the boy who broke your heart.

Then, the night the sky turned red, a new kind of broken was born.

You remember hearing the whooshing of wings and panicked shrieks of stray ikrans, The unfamiliar scent of something metallic and sulfured. 

You remember running into the morning that barely crept ist light over the canopy tips, the still dark sky like a cloak encased the world.

You remember finding your mothers songcord on the ground. You remember finding her body. You remember seeing your fathers not but a few feet away.

You remember the feeling of the air being mercilessly ripped from your lungs.

You remember Jake running towards you, his own panic flooding your ears as he begged you to leave with him. That it wasn’t safe there.

He had to drag you away, holding you tight to him as you practically collapsed into his chest in the front of his ikran. 

You remember stumbling into the village upon return, Neytiri catching you in her arms and the blurred sight of her own tear stained face as she cupped your face in her hands. You screamed and cried and fell to your knees as Lo’ak rushed to your side, shushing you gently and rubbing your back.

You remember showing spider the song chord.

You think he cried harder than you did. You both lost your family that day.

You remember the hollowness in the cup of your palm as neteyam held your hand. 

You remember when he gifted you that spiral under the starlight.

You always thought he was the sun. And now you know for sure.

Forever out of your reach. Aching for the stretches of salvageable warmth blessed upon your finger tips. You could chase it to the ends of Pandora but every night it would abandon you. 

You loved him even if you didn’t know what he was.

Like the sky he was a mystery. Endless but in the midst of the universe it held many treasures he swore he kept just for you. Songs of starlight and supernovas.

You reached for nothing. Hoping to grab the sky and pull yourself into his light. Feel the sunlight on your palm and chase it like the golden hour was a game of chance. 

But now, you knew for sure he was the sun.

But he wasn’t your sun.

This sun was made of stone. It was heavy and roughed. 

The sky was no longer a mystery. The sun no longer honeyed your skin in favor. Tragedy prevailed the night sky and when his blanket of warmth tried to regain its sanctuary of safety to encase your tainted trust, all you saw was a trail of falling stars you called rain and broken promises.

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ 

One of your tasks is to teach the younger children of the clan.

You didn’t mind it much. You often found it quite enjoyable.

You beat out most of the young warriors in your group when the clan was discussing who would train the young warriors. Only the best archer of your age group would have such a role.

It was down to you and a girl named Kyuna. She was skilled, but you were better

You chuckle as the little ones scurry past you, little shrieking giggles as they place their practice bows in a pile. 

You doubted yourself. You doubted your ability to train those younger than you.  What reasons can you give them for fighting when your own was grief?

Seeing the children and watching them learn gave you hope. Hope for a better future. 

The lessons today seemed to drag on. The thought of Neteyams words had lingered in your mind since last night. 

You sighed to yourself softly as you started to gather all the bows in a basket. Letting your thoughts run free.

“Need help with that?”

You swung yourself around, a hand instinctively resting on the top of your knife sheath, 

You found yourself face to face with a slightly taller na’vi boy. His braids to his shoulders. His smile hatched itself on baited breath, his white freckles that scattered across his face.

“Makeyo. For eywa’s sake don’t sneak up on me like that.”

He chuckled in mock surrender, throwing his hands up.

“I know better than to mess with the mighty Y/n. Don’t want to end up with an arrow in my neck.”

You roll your eyes and shoved him playfully.

Makeyo was one of your fathers students. He was a skilled archer, often competing with Neteyam. You grew closer after your parents death. Makeyo was your partner when lt came to training the younger children of the clan. Having already completed his iknimiya, and being a strong piece of the people, he was perfect for assisting you with your role.

“Great practice today, huh?”

The two of you found yourselves chatting while you walked back to the supply tent to return the arrows.

You nodded.

“Ya’here is getting better. Her form has improved.”

He smiled at you, his tail gently brushing your thigh.

“She’ll make a fine warrior one day. She always tells me she wants to be just like you?”

You try to hide the small shock that jolted through you at the sudden contact, with an awkward smile.

“Well, thats scary as shit.”

He raised a brow.

“Why?”

You shrugged.

“Knowing she wants to be just like me? I’m a wreck.”

He sighs, holding the tent flap open for you.

“Well, I think you’re perfect.”

The world seems to still for a moment, and your body feels stiff.

“You’re brave. And strong, and honorable…”

He took a step forward. 

“You’re passionate, and you care for others. Especially those kids.”

He gently places a hand on your arm, its firm, but its not demanding.

You feel your breath hitch, and your tail flicks behind you.

“Makeyo. We shouldn’t-”

“Are we intruding?”

You turn to see spider and Lo’ak.

Lo’ak glares at Makeyo, and spider marches in between the two of you, his smaller frame seemingly less intimidating, but you appreciate the effort.

“All right back it up lover boy.

No no, farther than that. far enough that i don’t smell your lack of personal space.”

Spider tugs at your wrist, shooing Makeyo away.

You groan, smacking  spider with your tail.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Makeyo.”

Makeyo nods, waving awkwardly to spider and lo’ak before making his exit.

“Uh huh. Keep it moving.”

Lo’ak ushers him away and you hiss at both of them.

“Hey. Dumb and dumber. what the fuck?”

You glare.

Spider throws his hands up in surrender, shaking his head.

“I don’t like that guy, sis.”

The three of you start making your way back towards the sully tent for the night.

You bickered the whole way.

Spider sighs,pointing his thumb in the opposite direction. 

“All i’m saying is, big mac over there-”

“His name is Makeyo.”

Spider shrugs.

“Same thing-

But anyways. I don’t like him.”

Lo’ak nods.

“He’s desperate. He wants you bad.”

You roll your eyes.

“Makeyo was just being nice.”

Lo’ak scoffs.

“Y/n, I love you. I really do. But if that’s nice, then flirting might mean getting you pregnant.”

Spider jumps and smacks the back of Lo’ak’s head, making him stumble and wince.

“Son of a bitch-

What was that for!?”

Spider glares at the taller blue boy. 

“Don’t jinx it! I’m not ready to be an uncle!?”

“Who’s going to be an uncle?”

Its the moment you hear Jake’s voice the three of you realize you’ve stumbled into the Sully's tent.

The three of you look at one another, then back at Jake.

Spider whistles, pointing to an imaginary watch.

“Oh boy. Would you look at the time? Time for me to go meet norm for dinner…I’ll catch you guys later.”

Lo’ak calls spider a bitch under his breath for abandoning the two of you two deal with the heap of awkwardness.

Jake resumes his task and Neytiri’s voice calls from inside.

“Lo’ak, Y/n. come on, its time to eat.”

You make your way inside, and Neytiri and Kiri come into view, steaming some meat over a fire.

Kiri waves and jogs her way over to give you a hug, her only slightly taller frame pressed against yours.

“Hey. how was your day?” She hums, tucking a braid behind your ear.

Kiri’s voice was melodic and soothing. It drips like the dew drops onto morning grass, kissed by the forest scent.

You go to answer, but before you can you’re body slammed by a smaller na’vi.

“Y/n! You’re back!”

It only takes a blink of an eye for you to open your arms for her, picking her up and putting her on your hip.

“Hey Tuk! How’s my sweet girl?”

Tuk giggles and nuzzles her head onto your neck.

Lo’ak rudley pushes his way between you and kiri.

“Excuse me, don’t i get a hug?”

He huffs dramatically, flipping his braids like some sort of diva.

“Of course you can, Ma’itan.” Neytiri appears behind him and kisses his head. You and the girls giggle and Lo’ak groans.

“Maaa. come on-”

He swats neytiri away and she chuckles, giving you a quick shoulder squeeze next.

“Did your lessons go okay today? How were the children?”

You take a seat next to Kiri, Lo’ak on your other side as Neteyam takes a seat next to Tuk, 

You nod in response to Neytiri as Jake hands everyone a piece of meat.

“Doing well. They are making progress. They are learning faster every day. I think they will be ready to try larger arrows soon. Possibly farther targets.”

Jake pats your back.

“Nice work, kiddo.”

“Speaking of targets...”

Lo’ak mumbles under his breath,you respond by smacking him with your tail.

“What?”

Kiri raises an eyebrow.

Lo’ak shrugs.

“Makino or whatever his name is was flirting with Y/n.”

Kiri smiles at you, gently shaking your shoulder.

“Makeyo? He is a fine warrior.”

You groan, not noticing how Neteyams ears pinned back slightly.

“Makeyo?”

His deep, accented voice pulls your focus towards where the boy sat.

All the sudden the space arounds you feels a bit shallow. Lo’ak answers for you.

“Oh yeah. He was really quite brave. He wouldn't have been so brave if he knew me and spider were planning to feed him to a thanator.”

Jake sighs.

“Must we plot a murder at the dinner table?”

Neytiri nods, swallowing her food and handing a piece of her fruit to Tuk.

“Your father is right. Besides, There is no rush for any of you to mate. Y/n, Makeyo would make a fine life partner but you need not decide anytime soon, my sweet.”

Tuk pipes up suddenly.

“Teyam is gonna be mated with kyuna!”

Neteyam nearly spits out his water, going into a coughing fit as he repeatedly brings his fist to his chest to attempt to stop it.

Jake immediately started patting his back, concerned.

“Jesus christ boy! Easy now, don’t forget to swallow.”

“You have chosen Kyuna?”

It comes out more bitter than you thought. The mere thought of another woman in his arms stinging an unfamiliar scorch in your chest,

Or maybe..it wasn’t so unfamiliar.

Neteyam finally breathes normally again and shake his head frantically.

‘“What? No! Of course not.”

“Kyuna? Really bro? Shes kinda a bitch…”

Lo’ak says, attempting to mask it with his own fake cough.

“Hey. Language.”

Jake scolds, pointing his knife he was using to cut Tuk’s meat with at Lo’ak.

“Its true though! She’s always hustling me to do her chores!”

Neytiri raises her eyebrow.

“If it happens repeatedly why do you keep falling for it?”

Lo’ak had no answer.

Kiri clicked her tongue.

“Y/n, didn’t you overrun Kyuna’s role for training the younger children.”

“Oh yeah! That's right! Y/n made her eat dust in that archery trial. No surprise there.”

You felt a small heat spread to your cheeks out of embarrassment.

“It wasn’t that big of a deal…”

Neytiri chuckles and Neteyam speaks up.

“so..Makeyo. You work with him?’

You nod.

“He helps me train the younger group of children. He’s actually quite helpful.

You didn’t notice the way neteyams ears pinned back slightly.

But Lo’ak did.

“Yeah. But he sucks at Ikran riding.” 

You raised your eyebrow. 

Come to think of it, You don’t think you ever saw him ride his ikran.

“He is?”

Lo’ak nods.

“He and Neteyam went hunting one time. The idiot crashed into a tree while neteyam swerved it easily.”

You can’t help but laugh at the image, and Lo’ak winked at neteyam.

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ 

Authors note:

HOLY FUCKKKK! I’m finally done! This actually did not take as long as i thought it would. 

It’s not as long as the last chapter ya’ll i’m sorry. But hopefully the close times in which both were posted makes up for it?

We’re gonna get some kiri and y/n bonding time in next chapter and hopefully some more jealous neteyam. Btw what did we think of the neteyam pov? Leave some comments about it so i can know whether to add it in later.

Taglist:

@mntx666

@isnt-itstrange

@thebestrouge

@bay7let

@fairuzwhat

@jackiehollanderr

@6423btw

@satesatesate2009

[keys-hellscape-1020]

You’re a healer, not a fighter. And yet…

Enjoy more stitch y’all sorry it took me so long. Also the title for this is SO bad I’m so sorry.

Platonic!141 x Medic!reader

Tw: Canon typical violence, cursing, gore, blood, Background character death, explosions, grenades, heavy smoke, reader is dissociating, implied that reader is having a panic attack, military inaccuracies, light angst, hurt/comfort.

~

You hate, nay despise, when you get separated during missions. If history holds true, and it always does, it won’t end well.

You are currently stuck in a small room, well stuck is a strong word as you do have 2 possible exits, it’s just that neither is very promising.

The slightly more promising of the two is a small rectangular window on the other side of the room, about 6 feet away. You’re not sure if you could get your torso through, and even if you did, if the 5 story drop didn’t kill you the enemy that was swarming the building certainly would.

The other exit was a hallway, leading back the way you fled from. You were crouched in a corner that bordered the door, gripping your gun tightly. There was no cover in the room, simply beige walls and that dammed window.

Suddenly a loud noise crackled from your comms, causing you to fumble to quickly turn it down a few notches. “Stitch! Stitch are you there? We almost have the case!”

You shuddered in a breath, carefully watching the door as you lifted one hand up to your radio to respond. “Sounds good Soap. I’m currently pinned on the 5th story, no visual on the enemy.”

“Stitch do you have any way to get out of there? We are pushing on 7th story.” That was Price, you could hear the sounds of a firefight in the background.

“I’ll find a way around.”

“Copy that, repo quickly.”

You carefully came out of your corner, crouching near the door you grabbed the doorknob, quickly flinging the door open.

The moment the door opened it was filled with bullets. You ducked behind the wall, grabbed a grenade from your gear pulled the pin and hoped.

When you heard a loud explosion paired with a choir of screams you leapt into the doorway, your gun posed in front of you.

You quickly took care of the few enemies you could see between the smoke and rubble. After a moment of no movement you moved forward to the rubble.

Crouching down you looked at the one solider who was still alive from your assault, half buried under rubble. He was a big fucker.

“Fuck off.” He growled at you as blood ran down his face.

You assessed him with a critical eye. His injuries would prevent him from moving very far. If you moved all weapons away from his reach he wouldn’t be a threat. That is assuming he lives.

You leaned over him to grab his sidearm from its holster on his side. As you leaned over he grabbed your arm with one hand and your shoulder with the other.

In any other circumstances he would’ve been able to break your arm, but he was injured and you were on high alert. You quickly tore his side arm from its holster and drove it into the side of his head, knocking his grip off of you.

Pointing his gun at his forehead you growled, “I am showing you mercy. Do not make me regret it.”

Breaking you out of your focused state was your radio, crackling to life loudly on your chest.

“STITCH! DON’T- THE EMEMY- TRAP”

The enemy used your shock to his advantage, grabbing your elbow and attempting to pry the gun from your grasp. You however were still faster despite your shock. You ram you head into his, causing him to let go of your elbow. You then pull your knife from its sheath and drive it home in the side of his neck.

With his blood staining your hands you turned to respond to your radio, ignoring the enemy’s gurgling in the background.

“What about the enemy? Do you have the case?” You asked, concern growing in your chest.

“STITCH” That at least you could tell was Price.

“Captain? Captain what’s going on?” You asked frantically, you had to fight the urge to run to them. If things were going wrong getting yourself hurt would not help anyone.

Suddenly your radio was full of very loud static. You fiddled with the channel, hoping it was just a technical error, but the longer you tried to get a connection the more you lost hope that it was simply a technical error.

You feel the blood drain from your face as the reality of the situation hit you. Your boys were captured. You quickly switch your mic off. Damnit.

Alright think. Your boys still have to be in the building, there’s no way they got them out already. You know they were heading to the 7th floor. The enemy will most likely be taking them up to the roof to lift them out. You just had to intercept them in time.

That is assuming they’re not dead.

But there is no time to think like that. They can’t be dead. If they’re dead you’re going to drag their sorry asses back to the living world and kill them again.

You quickly look around in the rubble, there has to be something here you can use. The corpse of an enemy solider catches your eye. They’re about the same build as you and while their uniform is splattered in blood it would do the job well enough.

You quickly pull on their jacket and vest along with their helmet. You could only hope that would be enough, you had to move.

————

You found the stairwell on the 5th floor, once you executed your plan you would have to move quickly or face loosing your boys forever.

You quickly started climbing the stories, you keep marching forward undisturbed until you got to the 8th story, when you were met with two guards.

“Who the fuck are you?” One of the guards shouted at you, pointing his gun at your head.

You quickly raised you hands in the air, it was vital they thought you one of them. “We- were attacked. 5th floor. Everyone is dead.” You croaked, forcing tears into your eyes and tightening your throat.

The two guards looked at each other, back at you, then lowered their guns a few inches.

“Where on the 5th floor was this and when?” One guard questioned, narrowing their eyes at you.

Fuck. You thought it was on the western side but you couldn’t be sure. No more that 10 minutes could’ve passed since it happened, but how could you be certain?

You couldn’t be, you just had to take a guess and hope you were right. “Western side.” You shuddered, hoping you weren’t overdoing your acting. “It- it just happened. No more then 10 minutes ago.”

“We just lost contact with a group on the eastern side. You know anything about that?” The guard shot you a suspicious glance. The other one fiddled with their trigger, glaring at you.

Fuck it.

You grabbed the one who was fiddling with their trigger and pulled them in front of you, using them as a human shield against their friend who sprayed a wave of bullets at you on instinct.

You pushed one guard into the other, and while they were reeling from the shock of having their friends mutilated corpse pushed into them you grabbed your knife and rammed it into the side of their head, aiming at the lisp of their helmet and angling upwards. So much for the plan.

There were footsteps coming down the stairwell, you had to act fast. Quickly you stash your knife in its sheath before pulling out your gun and firing it at the entry to the 8th floor, shouting expletives.

A team of 6 rounds the corner on high alert, they’re looking where you’re shooting and not at you, good.

“They went that way!” You shout, gesturing towards the door with a nod of your head.

“Move!” The leader barked, rushing towards the door. You pressed yourself to the wall, watching as they filed into the empty floor.

Once the coast is clear and the last of the enemies are through the door you turn around to creep carefully yet quickly up the rest of the stairs.

You manage to move up the next two flights of stairs without difficulty. You make your way to the floor right below the roof and listen carefully, your ear perched right up against the door.

You are met with the sounds of very angry, very Scottish yelling. You let out a shallow sigh of relief. Just as you suspected your boys are still in the building, now the hard part. Getting them out of it in one piece.

You wait at the door a moment longer listening for any clues, you fail to hear any coming from beyond the door, but you do hear one from above.

Carefully, and ever so slowly, cracking the door to the roof open, you are met with exactly what you expected. A helicopter is slowly descending to the platform on the roof, surrounding said platform is at least 5-8 enemy soldiers.

While not great you can work with these conditions, and that’s what you plan to do.

Not that you have much of a choice.

————

You quickly run to the floor they’re holding your boys and in a moment of fuck-it-I-have-nothing-to-loose (you’re lying to yourself you have everything to loose), you charge in, slamming the door to the wall.

You immediately stand at attention, and direct your eyesight to the man you hope you are correctly assuming is in charge.

When no bullets start firing at you you realize they are waiting for you to speak.

“Sir!” You bark out. “The heli is waiting on the roof sir!”

An old, short man turns to focus his eyes on you. You feel the cold sweat gathering on your neck as he fails to say anything, you swear that in the moment you could feel him cracking open your chest and feasting inside. Discovering all your secrets, uncovering all your sins.

Then he speaks, “bout damn time! Have the rest of your team come down. Escort these damn prisoners the fuck out of here!”

You turn to report to the rest of your fake team when a sense of dread hits you like a cold water ballon.

The messenger they would be sending. To alert the old fucker about the heli landing. That you already told him about.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!!” You hiss out quietly to yourself, two seconds away from stomping your foot and pouting like a child.

Your panic is cut short however when the door to the roof opens. You quickly snap to attention as the solider heads towards you, fixing you with a scalding glare.

“What are you doing?” They question. You feel like they are a priest, pulling all your sins out of you one by one.

“I’ve been assigned to guard here, on account of the enemy solider running amok.” You say stoically, puffing out your chest in a crude imitation of a loyal solider, proud to be guarding their commander.

The other solider briefly stares at you, before gesturing for you to get out of the way. Fuck there’s nothing you can do. Any attempt at taking them out would surly be heard. Fuck it- there’s nothing you can do.

You step aside.

————

It feels like a lifetime as you wait for a sound, a whimper, a pen dropping, an indication of what your next move should be. It feels like a lifetime as suddenly the door you’re standing next to bursts open.

You are guided by instinct as you fire a bullet into the head of the solider who had opened the door. You duck low, pull the pin on a grenade, and throw it into the room.

You are shaken by the proximity of the explosion, and your ears are ringing fiercely. You push forwards anyway, and once you are well hidden by the smoke in the room you duck behind the remains of a pillar. You hear movement and you quickly peek out form behind it, firing wildly. It is only another moment before the smoke begins to clear enough that you can see.

You glance around cautiously, and see that every solider in this room is dead, remarkably there are fewer corpses then you expected. The only option for where your boys could be is behind a door on the other end of the room.

You can hear yelling coming from it.

You can hear footsteps from behind you.

You slam the door behind you shut, amazed it’s still on it’s hinges. You grab a chair and shove it beneath the handle. You hope that buys you enough time to get your boys out because otherwise you’re doomed.

You approach the door, your gun posed in front of you, and kick.

The door holds.

You kick again.

The doorframe splinters under the force with a shrieking groan and the door swings open.

You are met with the man who you had addressed before, holding a pistol to Price’s head. All of your boys are in the room, looking like they had been thrown in haphazardly, their arms tied behind their back and their legs held together by zip-ties.

You creep one foot into the room before the old fucker shouts out, “Stop! One more step and I blow his brains out!” As he speaks he kicks Price, not hard enough to send him to the ground, but he still lets out a small grunt of pain.

“Hands off him ye’ wanker!!” Soap shouts out from one side of the small room. He pulls against his bonds with a groan, but does not accomplish anything.

Suddenly a loud shout and a bang is heard from the farthest door. You are forced to turn around, your gun held high, as you hear the enemy continue to struggle to get in.

“You’ll be dead soon. Surrender and maybe I’ll go easy on-” suddenly his speech dissolves into a blubbering mess of groans and hiccups, all began by the distinct sound of metal sinking into flesh.

You whirl around, panicked, only to see your Captain standing over the fluttering body of the enemy commander, holding a small pocket knife.

He glances at you over his shoulder before speaking, “Hold the door, I’ll get them out.”

You do as he says, moving to crouch behind a pillar, gaze trained on the door.

“Sir,” you call out over your shoulder, “enemy heli on the roof.”

Price makes a noise of acknowledgment and quickly crouches down next to you behind the pillar, an enemy gun in his hands. You barely notice Ghost, Soap, and Gaz moving to shelter on the other side of the room before the door bursts open with a sense of finality.

————

It’s nothing short a blood bath, a mess of bullets and gunpowder framing the centerpiece of organs and body parts. Bone fragments, and limbs, and cries of pain and pleas to merciless gods. It feels like both a century and a moment before soldiers stop flooding into the room.

Price motions for you to move forward, and gestures towards your belt silently. A smoke grenade. You nod in understanding and pose right behind a door, a smoke grenade in your hand. You glance over your shoulder briefly, checking that all your boys are in place.

With a confirmation that they’re ready you pull the pin on the grenade, shut your eyes tightly, and throw it. Once you hear the smoke dispense you desperately push forward.

It feels like a fever dream, moving through smoke and cries of pain. You feel like you’re watching a movie, a compilation of photos as you feel yourself pull the trigger again and again and again. Body responding before you can even think to. You feel every movement so intensely, and yet not at all. Like a puppet you react to your instincts, watching your boy’s backs. Making sure they stay safe. By the time the smoke clears and you’re ready to move to the roof you swear you can feel yourself swimming in blood. You can feel it creeping up your shoes, your shins and your knees, you hips, up and up until it’s entering your throat and your nose- suffocating you- you can’t breathe-

“Stitch?” You’re forced back into your body by a firm hand on your shoulder. Turning your head you see Gaz standing next to you, somehow managing to pull a small, kind smile onto his face. “We’re almost out.” He soothes kindly.

You swallow the blood in your throat before nodding firmly. “Right. We’re almost out.”

————

It was surprisingly easy to take control of the helicopter, but you suppose you should have expected that. Once they’d heard the shooting and explosions beneath their feet they would have almost certainly abandoned their post in favor of helping their allies. It doesn’t truly matter to you though, their lives ended all the same.

After busting through the door, that they hadn’t even bothered to lock in their rush, it was simply a matter of taking out 3 soldiers and the pilot. A laughably easy task considering what you had just accomplished.

You leaned back in your seat on the helicopter heavily, resting your head back against the side of the beast. You feel your weariness in every bone in your body. You don’t think you’ve ever dealt so much death in such a short period of time. While you were no stranger to the feeling of taking a life, you took less than the average solider. You focused on mending, not breaking, whenever possible.

You supposed that today mending life was not in cards as much as tearing it apart. You wonder if you have what it takes to be a solider, if you break at the first sign of difficulty.

You’re broken out of your thoughts by a firm hand on your knee. You open your eyes and sit up to be met with the sight of Soap’s big blue eyes staring at you in concern.

It’s takes you a moment before you notice that he’s handing you something, his field journal. You take it with a confused glance, but he mearly gestures for you to look inside.

You look at the page he was holding open, it contains many small doodles, that despite their small size are still remarkably well done. You see doodles of Ghost and Gaz, who are sitting across from you. He’s sketched how they currently look, Gaz with his head resting on his fist as he stares at the clouds racing by. Ghost as he leans back, his arms and legs crossed.

What really draws your attention though is a question, messily scrawled beneath the doodles. Next to it is a stylized, cartoonish drawing of you, surrounded by several hearts.

The question reads, “You alright hun?”

You look up at Johnny and he blinks at you a few times before suddenly startling, like he had forgotten something, and sheepishly handing you a pencil.

You scrawl down right below Johnny’s handwriting, “I’ll live. You?” You hand his journal back to him, and watch as he scrawls down his response.

“Bit shaken, thought I was done in for a second there. At least until you stepped in <3” Next to the heart he’s drawn a goofy kissy face, equipped with his signature Mohawk and all.

Johnny and your’s silent conversation is cut short by Price shouting over the sound of the heli from up by the cockpit, “We’re landing in 2 minutes!”

“Roger that Cap!” You yell back, handing Johnny his journal back with a ruffle of his Mohawk. He gawks at you in playful insult while you go about making sure you (and your boys) are prepped for landing.

————

Once you’ve got both your feet back inside base exhaustion hits you like a tsunami wave. Now that you’re certain you’re safe the adrenaline is fading like water out of a balloon. Despite the fatigue festering in every part of your person, you’re not in bed. Instead you’re in the armory, cleaning your gear.

You want nothing more than to sleep, but it’s routine for you to make sure all of your duties are accomplished first so you can sleep well. You’re silently taking apart a pistol when you hear footsteps approaching the armory, knocking you out of your thoughts.

It’s only a moment before Price walks through the doors, surprisingly enough he’s not carrying any of his own weapons.

As soon as he sees where you’re sat on one of the benches he B-Lines to you, approaching with a speed and purpose that you’ve only seen him use on missions. The adrenaline from the mission must still be in his system, you muse. He’s been in this industry long enough for it to make sense.

“Go the fuck to sleep sergeant. The actual hell are you still doing awake?” He barks as he approaches you.

“Will soon sir.” You respond nonchalantly. “Just cleaning my gear first.”

He guffaws like it’s the most foolish thing he’s heard all day, (which says a lot considering he has gotten captured today) and gestures for you to scoot over.

You do so, slightly confused by what he intends to do. Once you’ve made room on the bench he sits down next to you and grabs your vest. As he lays it on his lap he goes through the pockets systematically, making sure the vest is perfectly up to code.

As you observe him you’re slightly surprised by his actions, you imagine he must be wanting to go to sleep after the day he’s had.

“You don’t have to help me sir.” You say carefully, tip-toeing around his grumpy outward appearance.

“A good leader always makes sure his soldiers are taken care of before himself. Now finish cleaning that pistol so we can get the fuck to bed.”

————

With Price helping you it didn’t take long for you to finish and finally head to bed. You could feel your feet sticking to the ground with every step, and it took you twice as long as it normally did to walk to your barracks from the armory.

As you approach your door you notice a slumped figure next to it, causing adrenaline from the day to start kicking back up inside you. Feeling your heart start to hammer, yet not having the energy to do anything about it, you continue to approach leisurely.

As you get closer you recognize the balaclava and all black clothing that clings to a large frame. Ghost. When you finally stand next to him you nudge his hip with your foot.

“Come on big guy.”

He blinks up at you wearily, but starts to stand all the same as you unlock your door. You walk in and throw your boots and jacket off as you approach your bed, little care for where they end up.

You flop down on your bed, the scratchy blankets and thin military mattress feeling like paradise after all you’d been through. When you see ghost’s shadow approaching out of the corner of your eye you roll over, facing the wall.

You feel Ghost lie down on your mattress and sling a heavy arm over your waist as you both settle down into a deep sleep.

It had been a hard day, but you would do it all over again for your boys.

[final-fantasy-xiii-fan]

This is the second part of the headcanons I have about Hyrule, Legend and Wars, I hope you like them:

Warning!!! Sexual assault themes! Adult themes!

At some point while Legend was facing Yuga, he turned into a rabbit and Ravio found him in his bed, what does the merchant do? put it up for sale and when he realizes that the pink bunny can talk, he triples the price, I also want to think that Sherow tries to devour him, since some birds hunt rabbits and hares, Legend is obviously furious and almost cuts Ravio and Sherow as soon as he manages to escape from the cage and return to his Hylian form

This headcanon is a bit bizarre, because in Zelda 2 we remember that Hyrule can be healed by 2 women, one is an really old woman and I think that the real reason why Rulie does not tolerate much physical contact is not only because of the curse of blood that he carries, if not why he was a victim of sexual abuse by the old woman who cares for him, I don't remember well if it is in old Kazuto or in The Town of Rauru, but you can see how Hyrule enters the old woman's house and after a few seconds he comes out completely cured.

I don't know if anyone has already talked about this, but Legend and Twilight have a mating season, but only if they transform into a rabbit or a wolf during that specific time, since the Hylian form does not have those needs, so Twilight and Legend They avoid transformations during the mating season

Wars, in addition to being a first-class womanizer, he has a strong addiction to drugs and alcohol, being in the army and being a captain during a war can cause an immense amount of trauma, depending on how exposed he was to the battlefield and he was in front of the troops, that would leave a psychological mark, yes or yes, some of the most common disorders in soldiers could be delusions of persecution, inability to fall asleep, hallucinations visual and auditory, night terrors and in extreme cases schizophrenia, severe depression, loss of the meaning of life, despair, anger and contempt, in short it is as broken as Time or Legend

Legend has tried to look for the wind fish and has also tried to have lucid dreams to find Marin, these lucid dreams are the ability to control dreams, even to achieve astral travel and past lives, I would like to think that he did not like that at all to the goddess Hylia and denied her any opportunity to achieve those types of mental states, for that reason, Legend suffers from severe insomnia as a divine punishment.

Hyrule has lice! because? terrible hygiene and that's it, one more reason for Wars to panic hahahahaha sorry not sorry? xD

And that's all, I want to thank you all for your patience and kindness, I really hope it's useful to someone and that you all had fun!

[hestzhyen]

Chapter 54 Dire Posting

Greetings, dear void. So much for the gang getting back together. This arc is going to be a long one, at least compared to the previous two. The pace is still break-neck but there are a lot more conflicts being set up here. I wonder if it would be helpful to visually break it down compared to the Sojo and Rakuzaichi arcs...

Hishaku Machinations and Shiba

What a whimsical guy our main villain is! Just look at him sitting on the kiddie ride at the playground while he discusses the current situation with Worst Jeanist for our benefit.

Also the Shiba glazing, hello? It's always been obvious that Shiba's a cut above most sorcerers, especially after he mostly off-screened 3 out of the 4 Tou members. But to have the Big Bad himself acknowledge that he's basically the best of the best is high praise. Good to know he'll still factor in this arc somehow! I mean, of course he will, he's got direct ties to Kunishige's past, Chihiro, and the Kamunabi. The guy's certainly snooping around and doing more offscreen sorcery as we speak. We'll just have to eagerly await his return to the main story.

I just hope this finally, finally puts the crackpot theories of Shiba being a possible traitor candidate to rest. His mere presence is a huge obstacle for the Hishaku and they clearly went to great lengths to work around him in order to murder Kunishige. They're probably pleased as punch that he's out of the way in present circumstances too. Shiba, beware! Your nephews are in danger and Samura can't take all of your death flags for you!

Why are you still there, bro? Just to show us the dead bodies again?

So, Worst Jeanist is one of the main Hishaku. Interesting... wouldn't have guessed since he dresses worse than the random fodder. My man just rolled out of bed, dove into a box of cast-off high school theater costume pieces and went about his day. Anyway, that means we now have: John/Yura - leader Hat Hishaku - tree guy, Kunishige murderer Samurai Hishaku - dining room guard, Kunishige murderer Jane Hishaku - mom conspiracy theory magnet, Kunishige murderer Worst Jeanist Hiruhiko ... and 4 more yet-to-be-revealed members.

Thanks to Hiruhiko we also know there are 68 "fodder" guys participating in the assault of all four Sanso, of which 34 have datenseki shards (don't think about how many times Char was hurt to make those). And all of them are now attacking Senkutsuji- so the other two Sanso (Kuentaisha and Sushi Subaru) can be assumed to be safe for now.

I wasn't expecting them to be a huge org or anything but this seems really small, doesn't it? Only 10 core members! So there will definitely be political maneuvering on their part to weaken the Kamunabi from within. It's so pleasantly unsatisfying to be strung along bit by bit like this until the grand reveal of the plan...

Based on how John talks at the start of the chapter, it doesn't look like they've accounted for Hakuri- Chihiro's the only one that they count as an addition to the fighting forces on the Kamunabi's side. Granted, Hakuri's probably not a formidable warrior even when he can use Isou; it's only been about 24 hours since he figured out how to harness his sorcery at all. He still needs to train it and get used to fighting in general. But surely the Hishaku would be gunning for him if they knew about his powers. He's the ace in the hole that can completely undo what they're planning!

And now that I think about it, wouldn't the Kamunabi want to have control of Hakuri too? He can summon the Bearers or their blades at will, assuming that the contract overwriting their sorcery makes them unable to resist. They won't let someone who can teleport the blades away from them walk free... poor Hakuri, he's going to be pressed from both sides. But so will Chihiro. At least they'll have each other...?

"Friendship"

Hiruhiko's getting some "hands-on" training thanks to confronting Chihiro (not sorry).

Hiruhiko comes across as really sheltered this chapter. I wonder if all those HCs and if scenarios about Yura being the one to raise him are actually correct...? Yura kind of talks about him like a parent or an owner. Like he raised Hiruhiko in a certain way for a specific purpose. Hm.

So they're trying to temper his immaturity a bit... Hiruhiko is the one who's getting the reality check via his opponent to fuel his growth. Chihiro's already far ahead in his mindset, so he's the one driving his foe's development. He's going to be the reason that Hiruhiko becomes a formidable threat. I love the way the author plays with and blends shounen and action movie tropes so, so much.

Hiruhiko's probably going to be Chihiro's own personal Joker this arc, maybe even into the next depending on how things play out. They're both going to be one-upping each other and learning new things as they adapt. Chihiro himself used a new application of Kuro just to counter Hiruhiko's techniques. Their fights will surely be spectacles every time once they're on even footing!

Speaking of, I am 100% sure that Hiruhiko is going to be a blade wielder before long. John remarked that his sorcery wasn't anything worth writing home about- it was his battle sense and ability to adapt that made him one of the core Hishaku members. So he'll only become stronger by making a contract with an enchanted blade... and truly Chihiro's equal as an enemy.

Equal

I've got a TON of stuff I'm going feral over comparing and contrasting Chihiro, Hiruhiko, and Hakuri, but I'll wait before going on a tangent about it. There's a few crucial bits of information needed before going full-on crazy about how these three hold up compared to each other (not that it will stop me from filling up my sketch book with diagrams and lunatic ravings). But this transition got me so good:

There's that word again- 対等 [taitou], "equal".

There's going to be conflict about what it means to be "equal" between these three. Chihiro and Hiruhiko are already going at it, though it's pretty lopsided from Hiruhiko's end right now. But this could spill back over into Chihiro and Hakuri's relationship too.

Ch. 37: "Equal" from volume 4, titled "Equal"

I will be forever salty that 仲間 [nakama] got translated as "allies". "Partners" or "comrades" would have been better reeeeeeeee

This is where Hiruhiko could throw a spanner in the works. He failed at exploiting Chihiro's cognitive dissonance over killing, but what it means to be "equal" to someone, and a friend... that's brand-new territory for our lonely protagonist. Hiruhiko's probably the first person to approach Chihiro with an offer of friendship, twisted and fucked up as his idea of it is. Hakuri's... passionate proposal of cooperation doesn't really count.

Hakuri's acknowledged Chihiro as a friend, but would Chihiro say the same? Does he think he's worthy of that label- or is he too much of a monster? Does he still feel that sense of imbalance towards Hakuri? I won't speculate here more than this. But by god I hope Hakuri and Hiruhiko face off over what it means to be "equal" to Chihiro.

What about Chihiro himself, though? How's he doing this chapter?

Oh...

He's so genuinely sad about where his choices in life have led him, but he'll never stop until his goal is accomplished. I think he pities Hiruhiko here a little too.

Chihiro thinks he's incomparably worse than Samura, his father, all the "heroes" he grew up admiring and hearing stories about. He thinks he's a monster, but the Hishaku something worse. So he meets them where they are to take them down and stop the spread of evil to innocents.

Chihiro literally gives up his body and lets his blood be spilled to save people. That's not just heroic, it's downright Christ-like. But they run in terror from him all the same. He's a villain by his own choosing and wants people to see him that way. Chihiro doesn't think he's worthy of the accolades given to the adults who tried to steer him away. They were heroes, he's just a murderer. For fuck's sake this guy needs a hell of a lot of therapy.

I'm trying so hard not to go on a major tangent here so maybe I'll do the meta Chihiro analysis another time. I've already got a massive private essay on why I love the writing around Hakuri in the works so may as well do one for him too... anyway, anyway. Just look at how far he's come as a character:

Chs. 1 vs 54

[sobs]

Chihiro is going to suffer for a while yet, probably until the very end. But hopefully this arc will help him realize he's still worthy of love and support. Of basic human decency. Of thinking of himself as a person. (...Hm, who else is struggling with that right now, I wonder...)

Meanwhile, Back at Senkutsuji...

Hello again, Mr. Hat Hishaku. Mr. Hatshaku? We haven't gotten an obvious shot of you since you appeared as a background spook at the end of the Sojo fight in chapter 18.

He was at the dinner table in chapter 40 as well, but we didn't see his hat so it doesn't count.

I wonder if he's the trump card that John was talking about? He certainly seems to be with how thoroughly he overtook the temple already. It's only been about ten minutes too. Things are looking grim for Samura...

Samura, please live. Please. I need you to reunite with Chihiro! And not on your deathbed!

Fuck.

Whatever the Senkustsuji defense forces are planning better be enough... looks like Hiruhiko might be the next one to wield Tobimune though. Actually, where is he moving it and Kumeyuri, anyway...?

Neat trick to be performing while down two arms and pinned to the seat by Chihiro's foot.

There's no way they're giving Uruha and Samura the blades just for giggles. Given the shot of the hole in the ceiling before this panel, Hiruhiko's probably transporting them to himself, but we'll see. Let the theories run wild!

There are many more things I want to say but they're too speculative. I love being wrong every week but some of these things should just stay between me and the brainworms, so... farewell, kind void. Until next time.

[johnslittlespoon]

sorry i dont know how to be happy...and slight cw for implied sexual harassment feel free not to post this <3

but. bucky having a close call incident with one of the guards in the camp- the first person he runs into after *isn't* gale but the get the vibes of what happened and know they need to get *him* to gale asap. and gale is so angry and hurt but tries so hard to push it down to comfort him </3 his poor sweet boy has been strugglig enough and really didn't need one more thing. sobbing in gale's big arms telling him he's sorry, gale rocking him shushing him telling him he has not one thing to be sorry for he didn't do anything wrong.

giving me angst asks is so dangerous rn while i'm still in post–finale grief lmfaoooo count your days (buckle in, i think this is gonna get lengthy and i should probably just write a oneshot bc i have many thoughts but we'll see) (and yeah, cw for assault)

vv

i haven't seen anyone talk about this happening to john (might've just missed it tbf) and in a way i get it, because y'know gale is 'visually' more likely to be a target of things like that and we don't see what he goes through at the camp before john gets there, but i'm also surprised that i haven't seen more posts talking about it the other way around because i mean john literally comes into camp with a reputation, we see it right off the bat when the interrogator basically calls him on being a man whore lol.

i can see guards (hypocritically, bc they'll turn around and hurl slurs in the next breath) making offhand comments and passes at him, "nothing that i can't handle" when one of the others catches it happening one day, and the way john is so nonchalant about it makes them wonder how often it happens.

but one day a guard doesn't like the way he mouths off at them when they say something gross to john, and it results in john being shoved to the ground with the guard atop his back in a quiet corner of the camp, and he doesn't even hear half of what's being said because his ears start ringing and all he can remember is the feeling of the cold cobble street beneath his face and the shouts of the riot around him.

vaguely registers the guard moving to feel him up, his skin crawling, bile rising in his throat, but it only takes a few seconds before someone else is approaching and the guard jumps up so as to not cause suspicion. john drags himself back to his feet in a daze, stumbling away in the general direction of his block with his head buzzing, flinches hard when he feels a hand on his arm but realizes it's just brady looking at him with concern, brady who'd caught the guard on top of him.

gale looks up from his bunk when the door opens and he sees brady ushering john in, watches brady sag with relief when he sees gale's there, and gale only has to glance at john to know something's happened, rolls out of his bunk immediately and looks at brady in alarm. he sees red when brady tells him how he'd found john, but john is staring into a corner of the room and he knows anger isn't what he needs right now, so he swallows it down, moves to stand in front of john instead as brady leaves the room, reaching up to cup his face in his hands.

john's eyes move to look at him, but he's not really looking at him, until gale murmurs a "hey, you're okay", brushing his thumbs over john's cheekbones, and then he watches john crumble and his heart sinks. and maybe any other day, john wouldn't break like that, but gale knows he's already had a hell of a week and whatever went down must have been the final nail in the coffin because as soon as he's led john to the closest bunk, john's collapsing into his arms and he can feel hot tears against his neck and gale feels sick and has to keep swallowing to fight his own tears back.

he can feel how tense john is in his arms, like he's still trying to hold back from really showing his emotions even now, and gale pets his hair, assures him it's okay, "you don't have to hide from me, bucky." and his heart shatters when he starts getting whispered apologies through hiccuped sobs where john's face rests on his chest, gale shaking his head immediately, promising him that he has nothing to be sorry for, squeezing him tighter as he rocks him gently.

gale thinks about all the different ways he'd like to go out and murder that guard, almost scaring himself with the aggression he feels, but he shoves it down so john doesn't pick up on the red–hot anger, focussing that energy on holding john tight and whispering words of comfort until the sobs become quiet shudders, feeling him finally, slowly start to relax in his arms.

(gale probably hears john huff out a shaky little laugh when he tells him "that guard better sleep with one eye open until we get out of here" because the thought of gale actually being violent is laughable to him; he doesn't realize how much gale would really do for him, how much it hurt gale to see him stumble into the room like that.)

i definitely want to properly tackle this concept in a oneshot someday so forgive me for being vague in some areas, i don't wanna fully brainrot it out and then not feel the need to write something longer about it, you feel? <3 but hopefully this is sorta what you were envisioning. they both deserved better :(

[santae-salt]

Big tangent incoming, I'm so sorry. This website is an accessibility NIGHTMARE.

No pet site has ever put me in so much agonizing fibromyalgia pain, it's absolutely unreal. Flight Rising was already pretty bad in that regard but at least you can use multi-link opening even if staff gets a stick up their asses about it. You can't even do that on most Santae pages because of how they've coded the site.

Everything is so mouse oriented and menus can't even stay consistent between similar items, making it horrendous to navigate both physically and visually. It's physically agonizing and the site is in desperate need of keybinds for certain actions and optional accessibility toggles for things like mining to allow you to clear all the rocks in one go considering there's no gameplay mechanics to it and it's predetermined on load in.

Same shit with fishing only fishing has the added bonus of being almost impossible to see.

Speaking of impossible to see, the NPC shop index is a visual nightmare that is almost impossible to parse between the assault of colors, the font choice, and constantly moving things around and cramming in more. I have to squint for so long to find anything I want and it makes me not want to play at all.

Also the check prices link is soooo tiny and so hard to hit on mobile, which is just an insult to literal physical injury when the mobile version of the site is the only way I can play without being in physical agony.

Literally after my first day playing on PC (which was a couple weeks ago I think? Time is fake.) I had to have a three day recovery period from the pain it put me in. I know Santae is new but like. Devs have had years and years of watching other sites and the kinds of failures and complaints they face when they don't build with accessibility in mind. This is far past egregious and the fact that no one can bring up accessibility concerns or quality of life necessities without passive aggression or having to worry about being stalked and having the devs make up reasons to ban you to shut you up (which was already the FR experience) is EXTREMELY ALARMING.

We didn't need yet another pet site dev with unwarranted self importance and a supermassive ego, but here we are! I'm so tired of this age of incompetent management making themselves immune to feedback and meaningful change with intimidation, tyranny, or worse... fabricated victim complexes. (ie; FR devs claiming feedback is harassment and huwts their feewings )'': ) I'm tired. I have been around a long time.

I joined Neopets and Gaia Online when they were brand new. I watched the Sylestia shit show. I was in the FR closed Beta. I have seen just so much hubris and so many pet and doll sites burn down and it is always because of greed, entitlement, unwarranted self importance from admins, and general developer narcissism and unprofessionalism. I just want a pet site that isn't run by greedy dickheads with supermassive egos and a general lack of empathy, but that just seems like the default state of admins across the board.

Oh and?? Why is there so much LGBTQIA+ apparel for seemingly cherry picked identities but all Intersex people get is like a pin?? Incredible display of discrimination as if Intersex people don't suffer and face alienation enough. And finally I know it's been said to death but I wish people would stop giving them money until they abolish all the AI bullshit.

Anyway I appreciate this blog and the mod because it's unironically the most civil one I've ever seen and I hope it stays that way! Sorry for the tangent! Lots of love and I hope everyone has a wonderful day!

☁️

[kayetra-spade-queen]

The Problem With Animated Shows Showcasing Toxicity In People (mostly in Indian Shows)

Let me just come out and say it;

Indian Shows by far had the most atrocious showcasing of toxicity and had little to no filter whatsoever, especially when they market those shows to be made for kids.

Word vomit ahead ⬇️

Indian Shows, especially with action-genres are definitely gonna showcase some violence with friendly(?) filter on it.

What many do not realize that a lot of minor actions done by a character or multiple characters, either a protagonist or antagonist or otherwise, they tend to do some quiet violent things themselves that could've made them be charged with assault when it's the real world, but are treated like a gag instead, subconsciously teaching the audience that such actions are fine because the show does not showcase the severity in them.

(If anyone is saying otherwise, just so you know there's a viewers discretion that wasn't there until a lot later. There's this even one kid who tried to recreate Panja Attack on his sibling despite it all).

The characters amplify this because of how they react to such things; they didn't address the situation, or point out that it's wrong, no. Instead, they just laughed it off to keep up the humorous charm (or lack thereof due to the nature of the actions itself).

Here are a few examples of the actions of some things from shows, while isn't showcased as a major thing compared to the actions of the show's antagonists, are actually pretty bad themselves;

1. Chhota Bheem

Ah yes, everyone's oldest and still favorite Indian hero. Based on the second Pandava brother, Bhima, Bheem lives by his namesake to be the strongest of all. He helps others, and protects his home from any danger.

While this show is a favorite to many for years (and honestly, me too), there are some actions of the characters that were barely addressed (at least from what I can see. Though I'm sure there's some people out there pointed this out, but their statements never gained enough attention to make this something people will point out often).

For the first, I'll address Kalia as our first study subject;

First and foremost, he is by far the most abusive character ever in the show, at least by visual senses. I don't include the villains for obvious reasons.

Kalia had 2 lackeys who are arguably (more like objectively) the most useless characters the show had ever made; Dholu and Bholu, a pair of twins.

Kalia had not once, not twice, not thrice either, but several times in the span of this show's 16-17 years long airing.

Sure, you can account because of Kalia's character who is honestly pretty bad, but the fact that the only way they can showcase Kalia's character was through sheer violence and domination towards people is just-

Moving on to the next person, Bheem himself;

Tbh, Bheem (and pretty much everyone in his group) is somewhat of a gray area when it comes to his morality. The thing about him is that he doesn't seem to give two shits when an actual abuse is going on in front of his eyes (i.e Kalia's abuse towards the twins).

And let me just bring up one of the many times he actually harmed animals in the name of "protecting the people", when he was supposed to protect both.

I'm talking about the crocodile in the early episodes of the early seasons. On the get go, he was set on getting rid of the croc from the dried riverbank by any means necessary, but it doesn't seem to include talking to it.

Like- ok, the animals are hostile and shit, but with the fact that animals can talk (*looking at Jaggu and the winged tigers*), I don't see the point of physically beating the shit out of them when they can just talk it out civilly.

"Hey, sorry to bother you, but my people here are having problems, and you kind of scared them. Can you maybe move somewhere else? I can find you a good place if you'd like."

"Oh shit- aight man, no prob, thanks. I'll take my leave now."

So many problems can be avoided if you just do this bro.

This also applies to everyone in Bheem's group; they don't seem to give 2 shits with whatever's going on around them, unless it's actually threatening them.

2. Roll No. 21

This whole show is just the most confusing and stressful, and I'm not even kidding; inconsistent lore, information provided do not seem to align, among other things.

Anyways, the first person on this list is Golu, the resident bully of Mathura Ashram himself.

He was the stereotypical bully you'll find; big and fat, and of course, a bully. And of course, like Kalia's case, he's actually part of the gang, but his overall status is interchangeable depending on the situation.

I know that the teachers are all demons so they won't bat an eye about it (most of the time at least), but the fact there's lack of order in Kris' orphanage department baffles me with how carefree Kanishk is

Second, most of the characters, if not all;

Idk, the fact that those kids will laugh at the most nerve-wracking and gut twisting shits ever kinda baffles me, like they're like a bunch of sadistic pieces of shit that would laugh at anyone experiencing pain and/or humiliation. And aren't they like 12-13?? It's literally not just Kris, it's literally every single character that does this.

I would say I kind of understand where this is coming from; all of the students of the Ashram are victims of Golu's bullying, and because Golu always had instant karma every single time (more like Kris' revenge plots), they would laugh because they feel satisfied because their oppressor had been served with justice (or whatever the hell this is).

But then again, it's kind of cruel regardless from one human being to another, especially kids who are like 12-13 year olds. Like, cutting in line when waiting for shower turns, but got frozen by ice water in return? That's like a bunny outsmarting a wolf but the wolf eventually eats the bunny.

3. Little Singham

The ongoing sensation that is literally on par with India's beloved and one of the longest cartoons in a matter of a few years.

I won't address the obvious here, but I would address the more minor ones, like Montu's bullying and the retaliations of his victims (this includes Ajay);

Again, we're met with the stereotypical bully, big and fat build, domineering. Honestly- they should make more variety of bullies, cuz this is just giving us the big build people a bad look. Make a bully to be a pretty girl, a handsome guy, expand the variety bro, you can't just keep the same theme over and over.

Anyways, Montu had been self-explanatory already. He's a bully who wants to outshine and dominate his way in the game, but gets karma almost immediately, whether it's by the law of nature or the protagonist's intervention.

Now onto the other characters, particularly the victims, and the trio of Mirchi Nagar;

Again, they had this sadistic mindset that they would immediately laugh loudly when Montu got his "karma", regardless how absurd it is.

And let me just say the many and different times and types of how Ajay retaliated against Montu for bullying him and/or his friends. From sticking a fake donkey tail to his butt after making fun of Karate, to asking the animals to mess with him.

In comparison, Ajay is a lot more tamed than Kris' retaliations. And also with the possibility that he may have been a long-standing victim of Montu for a while even prior to his promotion as LS. I have to bring up the fact that Ajay is introverted and shy with only 2 friends at his back. To kids no older than 10 or below, these types of people are considered weird and often an easy target to bullying because of how weak they are perceived whether it's physically or emotionally.

That isn't to say I support what Ajay has done. Yes, I know what he did is mostly classified as self-defense (I think), but it's not really worth going this far.

Well, I suppose I have to blame the teachers for not handling the situation at all (*looking at Ms. Tara because I hate her with a burning passion*), so ig the biggest villain in the civil side of the world are the teachers.

4. Arjun, Prince of Bali

Last but not least. I put APOB at the very last because of how much things is going on in this show even if it was classified as the minor things, especially when the background setting is a kingdom, where societal values and expectations are at its peak. Also because it's easier to talk about for me because I'm hella into royalty shit lol.

Let me just bring 2 people up, Khojo and Sankat;

First and foremost, they're a lot less like bullies, more like raging oppressors. They both had their goals with the requirements of getting rid of Arjun by any means necessary, and I do mean that quite literally.

Position-wise (and moral-wise also), it's honestly utterly unethical of them to try to fight with a godforsaken heir to the throne. I'm not sure if anyone is aware of how the hierarchy system works (which is weird honestly, but hey-), but when the first heir is eliminated, the title of future monarch will be passed down to the next to the throne, in this case which is Tanya.

And for picking fights with one of the members of the royal family is the equivalent of going against the entire nation.

Let me address Khojo first because he's a repeat offender in majority of the cases; he was delusional in an absurd amount. He hated Arjun but liked Tanya. He wanted to eliminate Arjun so badly so he could be prince, in which if you didn't read my previous post about APOB before, I've explained that it can't be possible, unless he wanted to be prince consort and nothing more if he were intending to just be that and marries Tanya. Even so, when Arjun got kidnapped, Khojo won't be prince —not by a long shot at that— he'll still remain as nothing more as the Minister's son. If he marries Tanya, he'll just be prince consort.

And then there's Sankat; Arjun and Tanya's cousin who seemed hellbent on getting rid of Arjun due to his jealousy. Internal conflicts in the royal family shouldn't be made public to keep up an image, usually there's this inner war between family members to determine which will be worthy to ascend to the throne, or bringing the entire kingdom into ruin. I'm not sure if the people are oblivious or just dumb (both most likely), but there are several times where Sankat pushed Arjun aside in favor of himself in front of public, and he wasn't even subtle about it either.

This concludes my ramble. I only mentioned 4 because for 2 reasons;

1. These shows are the ones I'm most aware of

2. Many would recognize this compared to the newer ones lol

Again, I feel like things like these aren't being addressed enough, because people are more inclined to look passed these in favor of holding the things they liked up high in high standards while in the meantime completely disregarding the bigger issues laying underneath the glorified fighting champions.

This entire post isn't made to take down the shows because they're bad; I'm simply trying to address the things that many people seemed to have prefer to ignore. I am by no means trying to take down these shows or trying to treat these shows as something not worth to be watched; it does, it just had a lot of flaws like many cartoons typically do because they're not made to be perfect, they're shows for kids.

But truthfully, because these are cartoons for kids, such behaviors should be properly addressed and handled, treating them like a gag, especially when they had this whole stereotype in place in majority of these shows which creates this subconscious mindset that'll affect how they'll react in situations.

Ok- I think I can FINALLY conclude this essay holy shit-

[ohnomyhooves]

Thoughts on the headcannons that doffy is colorblind and that’s part of why his fashion sense is Like That and that corazon is so unbalanced bcos he suffered a traumatic brain injury in the same event where doffy got an arrow in his eye and cora was only normal kid levels of klutzy before that and got much worse after

Firstly I'm so sorry if it took me ages to reply, I didn't get notified of this in my inbox at all!🥹

Also, I do like both of those theories– in my opinion there is definitely something about his eyes that Doffy is deliberately hiding, whether a natural 'flaw' or an injury.

On Doffy's eyes;

I think the arrow to the eye was quite clear, it's hard to imagine he could get away from something like that completely unscathed. The only question though if this is the case is why he was wearing glasses before any of that happened. My guess is either:

- he had some kind of eye defect from birth, something that he possibly saw as this huge flaw for a high and mighty Celestial Dragon. Perhaps colour blindness from birth, or heterochromia, or partial blindness etc.

- this is self-indulgent and unnecessarily cute (sue me!) but I also like to think that maybe he was just attached to the glasses themselves as an item, the way small kids get overly attached to things and just don't let them go for a long phase I.e a favourite piece of clothing they insist on wearing everywhere or an impractical accessory.

In either case, I can see that after his injury he started wearing glasses all the time for a totally different reason; to hide an injury that was now a bigger flaw than anything else because it was definite proof of weakness. Whatever he's hiding behind those glasses I refuse to believe he's not touchy and secretive about it. I think the HC that Doflamingo actually has perfectly normal eyes under there and is just an Extra Bitch is hilarious!! BUT considering that he got to keep them even at Impel Down, and I believe the wiki says that Tsuru got him a new pair before he was tossed in jail, they must be pretty important to him/ the Marines who arrested him for that little while his eyes were bare probably saw something that they knew Doflamingo would get Touchy and Dangerous about so they wanted to cover it right back up and pretend they hadn't seen anything.

BUT I'M GOING ON A TANGENT! To answer your actual question, I've never considered that his sense of fashion is so atrocious because he could be colourblind. Like, I just thought it was atrocious because his personality involves being the centre of attention all the time– sitting on the fcking table at warlord meetings, crowning himself King of Dressrosa and throwing massive celebrations in his honour, his behaviour at Marineford– but now that you mention it I like that possibility! I would have to look up how people with colourblindness perceive colours, I think, to get deeper into it; for example, if he doesn't perceive his horrid feather coat as being pink the way other people see it, what colour does it look like to him, what aesthetic exactly is he going for? Doflamingo would 100% not care if other people's visual senses were assaulted in his quest to look good to himself so that's fascinating.

On Cora's clumsiness;

I totally REFUSE to believe he was exaggerating this or playing it up for the sake of his cover. His accidents are too inconveniently timed for that to be the case, like when it got him in trouble when he was stealing the Op Op Fruit...(ouch😭)

He says he's always been clumsy since birth but his klutzness is simply next level, so it really makes sense that it's the result of some traumatic injury. If it was simply a childhood trait I think it would get better with time, not significantly worse; AND, I know we didn't see much of him as a child, but there wasn't any time child Rosi was depicted as being that clumsy. I believe the only time he ever showed clumsiness was when he tripped and fell into a treasure chest one time(?) in one of the very first scenes of their family before they moved out of Marie Jois, but that's like. On a totally believable level for a child. His clumsiness is such an integral element of his character as an adult that I think they would've highlighted it in his younger self.

So! Yes, I agree with that headcanon ;-; poor Rosi...

Thank you for submitting such a fun ask! I do enjoy yapping about them XD