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vivid-ink · 1 year ago

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"Show Me & Teach Me"

Part II - "I Like Your Stars Better"

Neteyam Sully / fem!Omatikaya OC Part II Summary: Seyla reflects on being designated tsakarem and Neteyam finally gives her her first lesson in and first taste of sensuality.

Content: SMUT 18+ MDNI, angst & fluff, pining, protective Neteyam, romance, Neteyam is your mentor, teacher-student chemistry, eventual happy ending, slight age-gap fetish, older man-younger woman. Show Me & Teach Me: Part I here

Part I Fic Summary: You were an inconsequential member of the Omatikaya clan who had failed your rites of passage once already. You were born to heal, not hunt or fight. So, why had the tsahìk designated Neteyam of all people to take over your training? What business did the future olo’eyktan have mentoring you? But it was too late now. You should have known better than to fall in love with your mentor. You had known this day would come; the day when your success would mean losing his company. You should have clung on tighter to your heart while you still had it…

Word count: 6.8k

Notes: Welcome back to all my lovelies who followed Part I and hello to everyone who is new onboard! :) You'll notice a change in POV in this part. I wrote Part I in second-person POV using the pronoun 'you' as the reader. For stylistic purposes, and also for ease of getting multiple character perspectives, I have written Part II from third-person POV using my OC's name Seyla. For those that enjoy Neteyam x Reader-Inserts, you are still Seyla! Her perspective is still yours, just as I hope anyone reading it in third-person is able to still connect and feel what Seyla feels. Without further ado; ENJOY Part II! There is a whole lotta SPICY HEAT in this.

The tension in the healers’ hut was thick enough to slice.

Seyla swore she could feel the heat of the other young woman’s glower blistering the skin of her turned back. Any hotter and her waist-length braids would catch fire. The jarring clack of a knife striking unforgiving and hard against a wooden chopping board was just another addition to the already edgy atmosphere. Seyla sighed with a silent roll of her eyes. Would this tantrum never end?

The pronouncement by Mo’at and the clan council that she had been chosen as tsakarem had been met with positive endorsement by most people. There were some who still held reservations for various reasons. Some still doubted her capabilities, which was fair considering how long it had taken her to pass her rites of passage. Others felt she was too timid to lead the clan as tsahìk. However, Seyla knew that for the woman who sat violently obliterating fruit behind her, it was pure, undiluted envy that instigated her opposition.

Vitani was Mo’at’s other young apprentice. There had been an unspoken assumption for a long time that it would be Vitani who would be designated as tsakarem. Seyla herself had believed this, never thinking for a moment that she would even be considered for the role. But evidently the tsahìk had more faith in her than she had in herself and she was determined not to disappoint.

Seyla acknowledged that she was quiet, but her silent nature did not mean she was weak. She just needed to learn to be more direct, and what better time to practise this than the present?

“Is everything alright, Vitani?” Seyla called nonchalantly over her shoulder.

The harsh chopping ceased for several moments before it resumed with renewed vehemence. Nevertheless, Vitani answered in a tone that oozed with derision, “Yes, things have never been better.”

Stopping her own task of peeling some yalnabark tubers, Seyla turned to face Vitani, meeting her peer’s scowl head on, “You had better take care or your fingers may end up severed alongside the fruit, sister.”

The knife clattered against the board as it was released carelessly from Vitani’s hold, “What? You think that because now you’ve netted a big fish you can boss me around?”

Seyla fought the urge to shrink under Vitani’s piercing gaze, but she refused to back down, “My concern for you was genuine.”

“Tell me, sister, how did you lure him in?” Vitani jeered, leaning forward with her elbows perched on each of her crossed knees. She folded her hands and rested her chin on them in a mock display of interest, “Neteyam is quite the handsome catch.”

Narrowing her eyes and pinning her ears in irritation at the other woman’s blatant objectification of Neteyam, Seyla hissed, “Neteyam is not some prized object. He’s a person. And it was not his decision alone to make me tsakarem.”

“No, but I’m sure he could have objected if you didn’t appeal to him.” The cock of Vitani’s head was scornful, “So how did you do it? Training you must have been a painstakingly slow ordeal, and I’m sure it isn’t your mute nature that charmed him. Unless, perhaps, your muteness was productive and you used your mouth in other ways to win his favour.”

The lewd insinuation was scandalous and Seyla sucked in a harsh gasp, “How dare you!”

Vitani cackled in malicious glee at getting a rise out of her, “Is that how you repaid him for your lessons? In carnal favours?”

“I did no such thing!”

By Eywa, Seyla could not comprehend how Vitani ever thought herself worthy of being tsakarem with so much bitter animosity in her heart.

At first, Seyla had felt bad and she had understood that Vitani felt slighted. She had tolerated the woman’s sour mood and astringent demeanour, believing that the storm would pass in time. However, it had been weeks now and Vitani only seemed to be getting more hostile.

With a scathing snort, Vitani flicked a stray fruit peel from her shin onto the mat and simpered, “Ah, there’s no need for that level of affront, sister. There’s no shame engaging in such activities. Men are all the same, no matter their station. All easily led around by what’s behind their loincloths.”

Seyla was about to retort that it was not the implication of sexual activities that angered her, but the insinuation that she had only got where she was by engaging in them that did, when the firm clearing of a throat stopped her in her tracks.

Neytiri appeared from around the cloth flaps of the hut’s entrance and while she made no remark, the dark expression she wore and the impatient flick of her tail behind her was sign enough that she had overheard their heated exchange. Vitani blanched as if she had seen a ghost.

Padding into the hut on silent feet, Neytiri was the physical embodiment of grace, as always. Her critical eyes settled on Vitani who immediately dipped her head in respect. “Vitani, I believe the linen out at the washing grove is dry now. Can you please go and fetch it in. I think you need some air.”

With a barely audible squeak of acknowledgement, Vitani shot to her feet and scurried out without a backward glance. Seyla allowed herself a scowl. Coward.

“Oel ngati kameie, Neytiri.” Seyla greeted, her head still dipped sheepishly, embarrassed at the thought of the slanderous comments the woman had just overheard about her son. None of it was true, but the insinuation was no less mortifying for Seyla.

Neytiri returned the greeting warmly and folded herself down to sit by her. She peered over at the girl who had dutifully resumed her peeling work and was deliberately avoiding her gaze, “You are worthy, child. No matter what others might imply or assume.”

“I never did anything like that. Nothing inappropriate happened while I was in training.” The words burst from Seyla in a torrent and she was unsure of why she even felt like she needed to reiterate the facts to defend herself.

A husky chortle rang out from Neytiri who fixed her with a knowing expression, “I think you forget who I am. Your karyu is my son and the tsahìk who appointed you is my mother. I know them both like the backs of my own hands, and they both speak very highly of you. I’m the last person you need to convince of your honour.”

Swallowing the tight lump in her throat, Seyla nodded mutely in acknowledgement. Neytiri’s words were a soothing balm to her nerves. Vaguely, she wondered what Neteyam had told his mother of her. She felt Neytiri’s warm hand settle on one of her wrists then and she instinctively glanced up to meet her kindly gaze.

“You have done well. The spirit of our Great Mother is strong in you.” Neytiri breathed, heartening Seyla with a gentle squeeze of her wrist and an affectionate smile, “And one day, when you and Neteyam are both ready, I will be proud to welcome you into our soaia (family) as a daughter.”

Seyla’s answering grin was reserved, but her heart sang with elation at Neytiri’s words. One day, when she and Neteyam were ready, they would seal their bond before Eywa.

She would be his and he would be hers for eternity.

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

Her eyes were wandering naughtily, Seyla knew, and she smirked defiantly to herself. Perhaps it was the cover of darkness after eclipse that made her bolder, but she continued to trace the muscular silhouette of the man above her with her gaze as they climbed.

She watched unapologetically as Neteyam climbed nimbly ahead of her, his lithe limbs scaling the massive tree trunk with an athletic ease she was envious of as he led them towards their intended destination. The tensing and flexing of his muscles as he moved was a stimulating sight, but she firmly maintained that she was not at all sorry for ogling. Not when he was her betrothed now and especially not when they had spent the last few weeks getting very lost in the new scent, sound and feel of each other’s bodies.

Reaching the platform, Seyla watched in anticipation as Neteyam adroitly pulled himself up onto the level plane of it. He turned immediately with a cheerful grin and an outstretched hand, which she took without hesitation, marvelling at the way he proceeded to haul her effortlessly up to join him as if she weighed nothing more than a leaf.

“What do you think?” Neteyam asked, his pride evident in the broad set of his chest and shoulders as he beamed at her.

Seyla glanced inquisitively around her, making a quick assessment of her surroundings.

The platform was an impressive textile. It had been skilfully interwoven with the perfect balance of softer cloth fibres, sinewy vines and dried palm strands to form a large, flat hammock that retained the breadth of its spread without sinking too much in the middle when weight was impressed upon it. It currently hung suspended from the boughs and branches of the surrounding woodland trees and a matching weave of tsawlapx (unidelta tree) leaves spanned overhead, providing shelter from falling shrubbery and rain.

However, the most breathtaking part of where they were situated was the view and Seyla gasped in delight, “Neteyam this is beautiful.”

This part of the lush woodlands overlooked a steep drop off a cliff on one side before bottoming out and expanding towards more of the verdant treetops of the bioluminescent forest below. The platform had been suspended between the trees closest to the cliff’s edge and out beyond the platform lay the vast expanse of the night sky, adorned with clusters of stars that glimmered bright against their darker milieu.

“Well, I figured we needed somewhere more secluded. More privacy. Away from prying eyes.” Neteyam murmured, his voice dropping both in pitch as well as volume as he watched his little student pace the platform. Seyla still appeared rapt by her surroundings and he was unsure if she had even heard him. No matter, there was no rush. They had all the time in the world up here to explore each other further without the worry of being seen.

Another endearing intake of breath left Seyla as she spotted the clear vessels that had been placed at various points on the platform, illuminating the space with a gentle glow due to their contents. She knelt to pick one up, giggling as the fluttering glowmoths inside them flitted to land where her fingers were wrapped around the confines of their clear prison.

A small pang of woe pricked at Seyla then and she looked over her shoulder toward Neteyam, “We can let them go after, right? They’re not trapped in here?”

Never failing to be touched by her endless compassion, Neteyam nodded, “Of course. The tops of the vessels come off and we’ll let the moths go later. My father calls these vessels jars. The avatar camp has plenty of them and they use them for food storage.”

Seyla could see that small holes had been punctured into the metal tops of the jars allowing for air circulation within them. Satisfied now that her winged friends would come to no harm, she pushed gracefully to her feet again and slipped into Neteyam’s arms where they were waiting to receive her.

Rubbing her cheek against the warmth of his shoulder, Seyla savoured the quiet thud of his heartbeat against her ear and splayed her fingers against his warm back, “The stars look so stunning from up here.”

Neteyam’s next words were a whispered caress by her ear and he ran the tip of his nose along the curve of her neck, inhaling the clean and sweet scent of her, “I like your stars better.” His fingers trailed tantalisingly over the swirling and weaving patterns of the tanhi (bioluminescent freckles) along her spine, and he felt a spear of male satisfaction at the way she shuddered against him.

“What was it you were saying earlier about privacy?” Seyla purred, taking a step back so she could tilt her head back to meet his eyes.

A corner of Neteyam’s mouth upturned in a crooked smile as he perceived the mischievous glint in her eyes. Seyla had always been a studious learner. In her training for her rites she had been true to her word about trying her best. If she had failed to meet a target or if there was room for improvement, she would pick herself up and double down on her efforts. And Neteyam had discovered in recent weeks that she was just as diligent now with their new evening curriculum.

“I thought we could use a safer space to get to know each other better, get closer without having to keep an eye or an ear out for potential interruptions.” Neteyam said, his voice more a rumble than a sound due to how close they were to each other. He was very aware of her hands, which had snaked from his upper back down lower to skim the tops of his lean rear.

With zero warning, Seyla grasped hold of the base of his tail in one hand and stroked it deliberately. His harsh intake of breath made her giggle and she continued the action, knowing full well it was an erogenous zone as he had done the same to her previously and taught her so.

Weaving the fingers of one hand into Seyla’s braids at the base of her head, Neteyam angled her face towards his and claimed her lips in his. She moaned softly into the meld of their mouths and met his kiss head on, shifting her hands to grip tightly at his shoulders to pull herself up onto the balls of her feet and press closer to him. The next re-angling of their heads brought with it a rough nip as Seyla deliberately caught Neteyam’s bottom lip between her teeth with a gentle, titillating pull.

Hot embers of lust ignited deep within Neteyam’s belly and through his half-lidded eyes he caught the flirty grin dancing on her lips as she nibbled on his. Well, well. It appeared his student had more than passed the first stage of her curriculum… It had not taken Seyla long to acquaint herself with the art of kissing. She had taken to the passionate dancing of their lips like a duck to water and she was proving to be a very fast learner in this arena.

Many of their evenings in the weeks past had been spent trailing their mouths and hands over every bare inch of each other’s bodies; lips moulding to lips, teeth and tongue tasting the skin of neck and chest; fingers tickling ribs or palms pressing hot against thighs and derrieres. They had remained clothed, not trusting that sneaking out into the glade around Hometree was far enough or secluded enough to promise total privacy. And every evening they had spent like this had left them both in a heated mess of slick limbs, their desire searing so hot that it had spurred Neteyam on to building this platform (Lo’ak had helped with many a teasing jibe once he had realised what it was for).

“Somebody is impatient this evening.” Neteyam muttered with a dark chuckle, “What’s happened to my shy student, huh?”

Seyla gave a mock pout and giggled, “You said you’d teach me, karyu. I think I’m ready for my next lesson.”

Neteyam felt the already snug confines of his loincloth constrict even further and he mentally cautioned himself not to get too excited. He did not want to scare her. He had been aroused around her before though. He had been unable to stop it happening considering the last few weeks, with the fervent meeting of their mouths and bodies. There was no way that Seyla could have missed his erections. The solid jut of it was very obvious behind his loincloth, not to mention the rigid press of it against her body as they kissed.

As always with her training, Neteyam let her set the pace and the boundaries, “And what would you like to learn for your next lesson, numeyu (student)?”

Pressing her lips together to swallow the saliva pooling in her mouth from desirous anticipation, Seyla held Neteyam’s golden gaze and let her hands drop to the ties of his loincloth, “I want to see all of you tonight, and I want you to see all of me. I want us to touch each other, everywhere.”

Neteyam’s hands stopped hers before Seyla could pull the corded ties of his loincloth free, “Are you sure? We can just focus on you, yawntu. You can show me what you like?”

Stubborn determination flashed in Seyla’s orbs and she reiterated, “No, I want to see you too. We can both teach other what we like.”

“Alright, but there’s no pressure for you to do anything you don’t want to, yeah? We can take things slow-”

“I’m a healer, Neteyam. I’ve seen naked men before. And I know what happens with bodies and sex.”

Neteyam raised a hesitant brow at her. He highly doubted she had seen an aroused naked man before though and there was a difference, “I just don’t want to scare you or make you feel like you have to go further than you’re comfortable with.”

Fixing him with a softer expression, though it was no less adamant than before, Seyla said, “I know I’m safe with you, karyu.”

Great Mother, she had a way of breaking down his resolve when she said things like that… Leaning forward, Neteyam pressed a kiss to her forehead, “Alright.” Neteyam’s own hands moved to the ties of his clothing, his fingers deftly undoing the ties and moving to undo the strap around his tail.

Seyla mirrored him, tugging the ties of her chest covering free first before working on her own loincloth. She felt strangely calm. Her heart was palpitating in her chest, but it was not from anxiety or fear. She trusted Neteyam. He had proven beyond all doubt during her training and afterward that he cared and felt deeply for her. She had no reason to be afraid.

Steadfastly, Seyla discarded her chest covering and freed her tail from her loincloth. Gently bundling her items of clothing together, she tossed them to a corner of the platform. Returning her eyes to Neteyam, she found him already looking at her with slightly wide eyes. He looked rather stunned actually and she resisted the instinctive urge to wrap her arms around her chest. She wanted this and she would not shrink.

Neteyam felt himself ache and burn between his legs as his eyes took in the sight of Seyla’s bare frame. All women were beautiful in their own way and he appreciated them all, but there was something about the innocence of Seyla that made him instantly breathless. Naturally, he was drawn most to the delicate rounds of her breasts. They were not buxom, but they looked just big enough for him to cup in a handful and they were tipped with beautiful lilac nipples.

“Great Mother, you are perfect, Seyla.” Neteyam proclaimed, a little hoarse. However, his student was distracted and not really listening. She appeared to be taking her education rather seriously and she had begun to pace around him slowly as she too soaked in the sight of him.

Majestic was not good enough a word to describe Neteyam, Seyla thought to herself. The customary attire of the Omatikaya did not cover much so, as such, she had technically seen most of his body before tonight anyway. But the comprehension that he was truly naked – that they both were – absolutely thrilled her. She had snuck a glance at his erection when she had first returned her gaze to him and in honesty, she had gotten a little shy then, which is why she had begun to circle him slowly.

Seyla let her eyes rake up the backs of his legs, noticing the nervously twitching tuft of his tail. She admired the lean musculature of his thighs that fed into the very attractive rounds of his bottom. She carried on with her pacing, reaching his other side as she looped back around to his front. His slim hips flared out to defined abdominals, to a broad chest and shoulders, from which hung brawny arms that made his powerful strength evident. She finally let her gaze settle again on the most male part of him and her breath hitched softly.

Neteyam was as imposing there as he was everywhere else, the thick and swollen length of his cock standing upright to easily reach his navel. Seyla was not about to lie to herself; she was intimidated by its impressive size. But growing up she had heard whispers from other women that sex felt amazing; that a man’s body had been designed to fit perfectly with a woman’s, just as Eywa had intended. She supposed she would find out for herself eventually, perhaps in another‘lesson’.

Meeting his eyes again, Seyla chuckled at Neteyam’s dumbfounded state and she took the opportunity to tease him, “Who’s the quiet one now? Come on then karyu, I won’t learn anything if we just stand around all evening.”

Clearing the hoarseness from his throat, Neteyam gestured with a hand to a corner of the platform where he had previously lay some soft throws down, “You lead the way.”

Seyla reached out to take his hand, which surprised him, and she led them both to lie down. She settled her back against the soft blankets and looked expectantly up at him, blinking modestly through dark lashes. She saw him hesitate for a moment before his form bent at the knees into a crouch and he stretched out on his side next to her, propping his head up on an elbow.

“You seem more nervous than I am.” Seyla spoke softly, reaching out to caress his cheek, “One would think you’re the inexperienced one here, but I know that’s not the case. Women talk. Lo’ak talks.”

With an unsuppressed sigh and a shake of his head, Neteyam silently cursed his loose-mouthed brother. While Lo’ak had matured over the years, he was certainly still more ‘fun-and-games’ than he was. Neteyam had never had any intention of hiding the truth of his experience with women – Metkayina females were especially passionate – but he had never had any intention of shouting it from the treetops either. A sentiment not shared by Lo’ak who rather enjoyed regaling anyone who would listen with the adventures he and Neteyam had got up to back in the reefs.

“Does that bother you?” Neteyam asked.

“No. You’re several years older than I am. It would be naïve of me or anyone else to think, at your age, that you haven’t explored such matters with other women.”

“I wasn’t irresponsible or cavalier with any of my former lovers. I left all that rampant fun to Lo’ak. I had always felt something for those I chose to lie with.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me, mighty warrior with a gentle heart?” Seyla remarked and her tone was fond, “Will you kiss me again now, karyu?”

Neteyam did not need to be asked twice. He honoured her request enthusiastically, pouring the depth of what he felt for her into the kisses he proceeded to shower on her lips and neck. His upper body sheltered hers now, though he kept his hips away from her still. Seyla was arching up against him, arching into his touch as his lips and palms began to wander her torso. The sensation of her peaked nipples brushing against his chest sent blazing desire coursing through him and his cock throbbed longingly.

“I’m going to touch you now, OK?” Neteyam gasped in between open-mouthed kisses to her collarbone, “But you can tell me to stop at any time if you’re not enjoying what I’m doing.”

A molten heat had started to consume Seyla under Neteyam’s attentions, spreading slowly from the liquescent ache between her legs and outward through her limbs. Her breaths were getting louder and she emitted an involuntary squeal when she felt the rasp of Neteyam’s tongue lick across the stiff nipple of one of her breasts. Her back bowed under her, pushing her soft flesh against his mouth and Neteyam took that as his cue to continue.

The points of her nipples pebbled at his touch and he took one into the searing heat of his mouth, suckling intently on it while the fingers of his left hand toyed with the other. Seyla squirmed, the pleasure shooting from her nipples straight to her core. She had touched herself on occasion, but she had never realised her breasts were so sensitive. Neither she nor Neteyam had touched her core so far tonight, but already she felt the coil of ecstasy winding tighter and tighter low in her belly.

Seyla’s right hand drifted to the vee of her thighs, easily finding the swollen nub atop her core. She was surprised to find how easily her fingers slid through her folds, so slippery already with the slick of her skyrocketing arousal. Rubbing circles over her clitoris with her slick fingers, Seyla whined piteously as the pleasure pulsed at her core while Neteyam continued his ministrations on her breasts.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Neteyam could see Seyla touching herself and he groaned against her. His hips canted back and forth in the air in small thrusts, the head of his cock drizzling a string of pre-cum in heightened excitement. Lifting his head, his lips pulled away from the mound of her breast with a soft pop and his eyes found her half-lidded ones.

She was an absolute vision like this.

Beneath her hooded gaze, Neteyam could see her pupils were dilated wide and a desirous flush coloured her cheeks and chest a sensual violet. Her mouth was ajar and she was panting as she continued to pleasure herself. Stealing another kiss from her plush lips, Neteyam ghosted a hand over the wrist at her centre in a wordless request to touch her where she burned the hottest. Seyla answered with the slow parting of her thighs, bringing her knees upward and out to expose herself fully to him.

Neteyam stifled a strong curse and he breathed out with his next breath, “Fuck, you are so beautiful yawntu. You’re driving me mad.”

He reached down and blistering, moist heat enveloped his finger as Neteyam gently pushed a single digit inside her. His jaw opened both in amazement and in lust at how smooth the glide in had been, her core welcoming his intrusion with a tight clench and pulse. Seyla moaned and the sound was so deliciously licentious that he longed to hear it again. Her fingers pressed in faster circles over her clit and Neteyam gently added a second finger. He was rewarded with another throaty moan and the stretch of her thighs as she widened them as far as they could go.

Seyla’s movement brought the shin of her leg closest to Neteyam into contact with something solid and warm, and she stilled then, her eyes darting down to look. She gave a small start when she realised it was his erection, as if just remembering that it was there. It throbbed slightly and it appeared even stiffer than it had been before, the head of it glistening with Neteyam’s own arousal.

Her left hand crept towards him and she murmured a question through her heaving breaths, “Can I touch you?”

“Yes, but I want to focus on you fir-”

Neteyam’s reaction was instantaneous as Seyla’s fingers closed around his girth. His entire torso jumped like he had been shocked by something and her hand flew backward in fright, apologies spilling from her lips, “Sorry! I’m so sorry!”

Neteyam’s laugh was gravelly and he refuted the need for her apologies in a croaky voice, “No, sweet girl, you didn’t hurt me. It’s alright. I’m just incredibly sensitive currently.”

“How do you like to be touched?”

“Let’s just focus on you right now. I can’t think if you’re distracting me by running your lovely hands over my cock, and I want you to feel good first.” To press his point, Neteyam curled the two fingers that were still snug inside her drenched core, eliciting a keening moan from Seyla, “Can you do that for me, numeyu? Just relax and enjoy this for now? You can touch me later, promise.”

“Y-Yes, karyu.”

Setting a steady pace of curling and stroking, Neteyam watched Seyla’s responses carefully. Her fingers resumed their massage over her most sensitive bud and with each curl of his fingers, he could feel her walls pulsate and tighten around them. Her eyes slid closed in concentration and whimpers puffed from between her parted lips. Neteyam had to steel himself at the wanton picture before him, fighting the pooling heat at the base of his spine and the pulsing throb of his cock. By Eywa, he was not going to spill too early like a hormonal teenager…

Everywhere, all around Seyla felt like viscous, gooey desire. Her skin prickled all over and her nipples tingled against the cool night air. The pleasure was greatest, of course, at her core where her fingers and Neteyam’s worked in tandem, driving her towards the cresting peak she could already see hurtling towards her. His hands were much larger than hers; his fingers thicker, longer and much more satisfying than her own had ever been during the times she had explored her own body.

Feeling like she was on the brink of shattering into the tiny fragments, his name left her lips in a lustful prayer, “Neteyam.”

Sensing her orgasm was imminent with the telltale quivering of her knees and thighs, Neteyam dipped his head once more to kiss over her breasts, nuzzling one peaked nipple, “That’s it, sweet girl. Just lean into it and let go.” He kept the pace and rhythm of his fingers steady, knowing from experience that once he had found something the woman enjoyed that consistency was key, not increased speed or pressure.

“Karyu, I-I’m so- Neteyam-” Seyla’s movements were becoming frantic and she rubbed even more intently at her clit, straining to reach the high that was just out of her reach. She was almost there. She just needed a little something more-

Neteyam’s mouth closed over one of her nipples again and he drew it into his mouth in a long, enticing suckle. It was that last little something that Seyla needed, and it threw her careering over the blessed edge of bliss. Her left hand fisted against her mouth to suppress the shameless scream that tore from her throat and Neteyam cursed low under his breath as the slick walls of her core squeezed and undulated around his fingers in ecstasy.

Great Mother, it was like his fingers were feeding the sensation directly to his cock and it pulsed in warning with a small spurt of pre-cum, his own orgasm threatening to consume him. Burying his face into the crook of Seyla’s neck, Neteyam gritted his teeth and resisted the urge.

No, he had promised Seyla she could explore him later, after her own pleasure. He would not rescind on that promise now due to losing control.

Heart pounding in her ears and thundering behind her ribs, Seyla panted through the aftermath of her orgasm. She reached across to thread her fingers tenderly through Neteyam’s beaded braids where his head was nestled against her neck. She felt him shift and he propped his head up again to regard her. Seyla felt blood heat her face at the sight of him also panting slightly, his piercing golden eyes still saturated with his desire. She smiled bashfully at him and turned her flushing face away from him.

Chortling, Neteyam ribbed her, “Oh, now you’re shy? By Eywa, where did all this come from tonight?”

Twisting her head back to face him, she pursed her lips in mock rebelliousness and retorted, “I’m a fast learner.” Her expression softened then and she tittered, “And I trust you.”

I love you, her heart said, but her lips kept that particular secret to herself.

Seyla had been curbing the urge to tell him. She had loved him for many moons now and although she and Neteyam were now betrothed, she was still afraid of being too forward with her emotions.

Neteyam silenced her with another heart-stopping kiss and Seyla rolled on to her side towards him, bumping yet again into his still very roused erection. He broke away from the kiss with a hiss at the contact, and Seyla saw her opportunity to begin her exploration of him.

Reaching down between their bodies, she gently grasped hold of his impressive length and gave it a tentative squeeze and stroke. Neteyam’s hips bucked towards her and a thrill of delight shot through her. She tested the feel of him in her grip, finding the cyan skin of his cock silken soft and yet its shaft was also exceedingly hard beneath his skin. A drop of liquid beaded at its tip and she instinctively swiped at it with her thumb, spreading the moisture over the smooth head of him.

“Tell me how you like it.” Seyla whispered, relishing the way his jaw had dropped and his face was contorted in a grimace of enjoyment. She continued with experimental strokes, feeling so empowered at the pleasure she was evidently bringing him as some more pre-cum began to ooze out of his cock, further lubricating the glide of her fingers over his sensitive flesh.

If Neteyam was honest, she could do anything right now and it would be paradise. He was so aroused, his balls drawn up close against his body, that he knew this was not going to be a lengthy exercise. Swallowing through a dry throat, he stammered, “That’s good. Keep going, sweet girl.”

“Is this what you want to do? What you want me to do?”

Neteyam’s expression twisted into a pleasure-filled snarl at the innocence of her question that provoked a surge of unchaste imagery in his mind, “Numeyu, there is so much that I want to do to you. You would be pinned beneath me screaming my name if I had my way.”

“OK.”

Neteyam stopped her hands then, bothered by how calmly and easily she had delivered her consent and he opened his eyes to blink sincerely at her. Great Mother, her desire to please him would be the death of him. Even whilst training for her rites, Neteyam had discovered early on that making him proud as her mentor had been a strong motivating factor for her. Seyla would push herself to her limits if the only reward she received from him at the end was a smile of approval.

In truth, he had answered her question amidst the thick of his pleasure and though taking her fully was indeed what the very male parts of him desired most, it was not a line he would be crossing with her today, “No, not ‘OK’. Sorry yawntu, I answered too quickly. I do want you, but not like this, not tonight. We’re not going to rush this.”

Seyla nodded quietly, still wanting to please him as best she could, “But how can I make this as good for you as possible? Teach me how.”

Licking his lips to moisten them, Neteyam admitted, “I like to thrust. So I normally thrust into my grip.” Seeing the slightly confused tilt of her head, he elaborated further, “Instead of moving my hands, I usually move my hips.”

“Oh, I see.” Cottoning on to his meaning, Seyla dripped her head in understanding. She was determined to be a good student, “Is there a way I can help you do that now?”

Unable to resist the earnestness burning bright in her big doe-eyes, Neteyam leant down to taste her lips again, taking great enjoyment in the way her mouth just opened for him to plunder it further. Ending their series of kisses with a chaste peck to her lips, he pressed Seyla down flat onto her back again and threw a knee over her hips so that he was kneeling on all fours over her.

Reaching for her hands with one of his, Neteyam arranged the fingers of both her hands around his cock, guiding her as he showed her the kind of grip he enjoyed. A ragged moan left him as he planted his hands on either side of her shoulders and peered down at her, “We can do it like this. Keep your perfect hands just the way they are, sweet girl. I’ll do the rest.”

“Yes, karyu.”

Neteyam began with a slow push and pull of his pelvis, his breath whistling low out of him as he watched his length glide in and out of the grasp of her beautiful hands. His pleasure was great, the feel of her fingers squeezing him as he pumped his cock in and out was the most exquisite sensation he had felt in a long time. He felt his cock begin to throb in a mounting rhythm of pleasure and his hips increased their pace.

Seyla watched from beneath him, making conscious effort to keep her clasped hands still through the thrusting of Neteyam’s hips. She was unsure if she had ever seen a creature more beautiful than him. She was thoroughly enjoying the view. She could see his face and watch the minute changes in his expression as he sought his bliss; the way his brows furrowed in varying intensities; the way his nose would wrinkle and his lips would peel back in a soundless snarl; the way his tail flexed and curled over at his side.

The rippling of his abdominal muscles while he worked his pelvis was Seyla’s favourite, however. She noted how his thrusts varied in speed and intensity, the way he had complete control of how deep or shallow his movements were. All the while a provocative string of his pre-cum was dripping onto the exposed skin of her belly, and the sight titillated her to no end.

Harsh groans were beginning to escape Neteyam and his hips were starting to stutter. It was becoming harder and harder for Seyla to keep her hands in their original position as the force of hips was pushing them lower towards her abdomen. He did not seem to be complaining though and soon her hands were wedged between their bodies, his hips aligned with hers while they continued their onslaught into her grasp.

Neteyam’s breaths deepened, punching out of him in large huffs before his entire body went rigid and a shout tore from him. His abs tensed and flexed with the assault of his climax against his senses and Seyla felt hot spurts of his semen lashing against her front, up her belly and painting stripes over her breasts.

Rolling off Seyla and onto his back so he did not crush her, Neteyam’s senses reeled from the force of his orgasm. His chest rose and fell rapidly while his lungs attempted to bring in enough air to calm his body to a more relaxed state.

Seyla felt a strong sense of satisfaction at her evening’s achievement. Neteyam was an absolute dream and she had thoroughly enjoyed being this intimate with him. She felt she finally understood why her peers all seemed so eager to engage in such activities now. Sweeping a curious finger through the sticky fluid that painted her front, Seyla held her fingers up to look at them and she gasped in surprise.

Neteyam’s eyes flew open at Seyla’s sudden gasp and his head whirled to face her, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

She shot him an enchanted grin, her fingers still suspended before her as she delightedly pronounced, “It glows.”

Seyla cackled at her discovery, not minding the sticky, luminous mess on her fingers at all. She supposed she should not be surprised that semen was bioluminescent. It was a man’s lifegiving seed after all, and everything that was alive on Pandora glowed.

Snickering at the pure amazement on her face at such an innocent discovery, Neteyam pressed a kiss into her hair, “Is that your favourite learning of the evening, numeyu?”

Seyla crowed with laughter, nodding.

Tonight had been her first ‘lesson’ in sensuality and judging by the rousing success of the evening, she dared to say that she was very much looking forward to her upcoming lessons as well.

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

Author's Note: Woooo! That was a very steamy Part II! The spicy scene at the end also ended up waaay longer than I thought, but I really wanted to flesh it out so you got both Seyla and Neteyam's perspectives. Thank you for reading! Likes, comments & reblogs are always so, so appreciated my lovelies. :D Gimme your thoughts and feelings, folks! Who loved Neteyam in this?? <3 So. Sexy. OMG. Who wants Part III?

Part III now HERE ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist (I think this is everyone who showed an interest in Part II): @wawuwe @liluvtojineteyam @neyetams @cinetrix @dutifullysteadystarfish @han-sirentell @bluealiensimp @mahalkomarvel @nmin @bellstwd @blue-iciclepop

Some of the tags don't work for some reason - I'm so sorry to those bloggers! :( I don't know how to fix it.

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lovelyhan · 2 years ago

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Kai hi! Don't know how and why but, I've been experiencing severe Seventeen brainrot in general so, I'm here to supply hard thoughts. (Also, I reread the JeongCheol x Reader trilogy you wrote and it remains a favourite of mine.)

I don't know who to start with so, I'll go with my man lol. The thought of being forced to cum on Cheol's ridiculously thick fingers makes me need to sit down. You know he'd be running his mouth too and, telling you how good you're doing for him.

the svt brainrot is well-deserved <3 and JAAHFJHD i'm so touched you reread inflection point thank you so much TT BUT HELLO? being forced to cum on cheol's fingers.... [kai.exe has stopped working]?!??!?

it kind of reminds me of the oneshot i wrote after he posted those pics on ig :| his fingers,,, what i'd do to get to cum around them /gen,, you can treat this drabble as a short continuation to that fic :3c

⟣ forced orgasm with cheol ⟢ wc: 0.8k words minors do not interact!

Choi Seungcheol is a man of his word.

When he tells you he'll pick you up at seven o'clock on a Friday evening despite his harrowing schedule, he'll pull up at the curb in front of your apartment with five minutes to spare. When he promises to call you every night he's away on tour, he'll phone you despite the time differences, and the fact that he sounds way too tired to be asking you about your day.

So when your boyfriend promises to stuff you full the next time you see each other, you know better than to call his bluff.

About twenty minutes since he hung up, you hear the telltale knocking on your door. You don't bother putting your underwear back on -- fully confident of the identity of your late-night visitor.

It's safe to say that when Seungcheol sees you behind the crack in the door wearing nothing but a flimsy tank top with your pert nipples straining against the fabric, you were completely at his mercy.

You don't even make it back to your room. Seungcheol simply brushes past you and makes himself comfortable on your couch -- dark eyes hooded with equal parts arousal and disappointment as he manspreads all over the cushions. Fuck.

"If I wasn't the one who was outside, what would've you done then?" he asks gruffly. "I didn't know you were such a fucking slut, princess. Answering the door wearing nothing but that top of yours. Might as well have done it naked."

You humor him with a laugh before striding over to take a seat on one of his thighs, making a mess of his sweatpants as you rub your needy pussy all over the fabric.

"That's just how badly I need you, Cheol," you whimper, sliding your hips against his thigh for the friction you've been craving since you saw those pictures he posted. When you feel those big, warm hands of his sliding up your thighs, you can't help the moan that spills from your lips.

"Turn around and sit on my lap," he commands, and you're much too willing to comply.

The moment your back is pressed against his broad chest, Seungcheol pries your legs apart -- gathering your slick between his fingers before prodding your lips with them. When your boyfriend whispers a quiet, "That's my girl," you practically preen at his praise.

And that's how you find yourself writhing on your boyfriend's lap as he fucks you open on his thick, large fingers -- whining and crying as your walls clamp down on each digit. Seungcheol deigned to start with three, as you've already loosened yourself up during that sultry phone call you shared before he came over, and he delights in how depraved you are from his mere fingers alone.

"Such a good fucking girl for me, aren't you?" he rasps, sinking those digits into your cunt before curling them just so. "You miss me that much, baby? Want to keep me all to yourself?"

"F-Fuck, Cheol!"

You can't even bring yourself to respond. He's so thick, and so, so deep, and he hasn't even brought out his dick yet. But when your brain manages to make you remember how you felt seeing all those fans thirsting for your boyfriend, you end up hissing through your teeth as you grind down on his hand.

"Mine, mine, mine. You're mine," you mewl, barely hearing the sound of Seungcheol's amused laughter before he smashes your lips together.

"All yours, princess," he whispers, and you cry out when those few, subtle words end up becoming the catalyst for your inevitable release.

But even as your walls spasm around his fingers, Seungcheol is relentless. He continues fucking into your cunt with unending fervor -- as if he means to engrave the idea of how much he's missed you as well into your body. You're practically twitching on his lap as he mumbles an incoherent string of words against the skin of your neck, but you're not exactly in the right headspace to tell him off.

"My beautiful baby, always so pretty when you cum for me," is what you first hear when the white noise finally recedes from your ears. You realize that you're still moving your hips despite the overstimulation, so fucking desperate to have any part of him inside you again. "You want more? I've fucked you stupid with my fingers alone, and you still want more?"

You do. You do want more.

"I remember a certain someone saying he'll blow my back out the moment he's back here with me," you sigh, tilting your head so you can kiss the corner of his mouth. "Is he going to make good on his promise?"

The ravenous glint in his eyes is enough of an answer. After all...

Choi Seungcheol is a man of his word.

#💘 mutuals #seventeen smut #seventeen fic #svt smut #svt fic #scoups smut #seungcheol smut #rj <3 #📝 drabble #💭 request #lovelyhan

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oleander-nin · 1 year ago

Text

Wolf In Sheep's Clothing(Yan! ROTTMNT x defiant reader)

A/N, not important: I just assumed 'dangerous' meant they fought back(aka, defiant). Also I wrote this in math class lmao. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

Tw: drugging(Donnie), kidnapping, manipulation, harm to reader, breaking bones, threatening nature, unconsentual touching(non-sexual), dark themes, abusive themes, food restriction/forced starvation as punishment, yandere themes

Words: 1244

Summary: The Yan ROTTMNT boys deal with a reader who's personality switches from sugary sweet to downright defiant.

Mikey:

He’s severely disappointed after he kidnaps you and you start to snap back. He tries to fall into his personas and talk it through with you, but gets severely frustrated at your pushback. He nearly cries when you try to hurt him.

He chains you to him, not wanting to be far from you. He’s convinced you’re just scared, and that you need reassurance. If you’re always with him, he can give it at a moment's notice.

He tries to win you over with food. You’re constantly fed your favorites and pampered to no end by him. Anything you want, he’ll try and get. He wants to bribe his way back into your heart, not seeing a single thing wrong with how he’s acting.

When you start to get heated, he pulls you close and wraps his chains around you to keep you from lashing out. He just situates you on the couch or his bed depending on where you both are and cuddles you until you calm down. He’ll make you sit with him for hours if he deems it necessary.

Freaks out everytime you try to hit him. He tries to convince himself it’s an accident for months. You’re so sweet, you would never do something like that to him. Once he realizes you’re lashing out and trying to hit him on purpose? He gets pissed.

He’ll strip you of all your old luxuries, taking away something you enjoy with every hit. Soon you’re not allowed any entertainment other than Mikey, being left with nothing to do but talk to him. He gives you less complicated meals, serving you the same thing he makes for the rest of his family instead of whatever you’re craving.

And if your anger still persists? He’ll tie you down and keep you isolated, only letting you see him and be in his room. He’ll break you down eventually, and he’s willing to wait.

Donnie:

Is completely unimpressed with your change in attitude. He treats you more as an unruly child than a person with valid feelings and wants. If you start complaining about a rule he set, he’ll just reexplain his reasons and shut you down when you argue. He’s the genius, he’s the one in the right.

Tries to keep you under check and placate you swiftly. He doesn’t want to deal with this version of you, he wants his love back. He’ll stop at nothing to get you back.

He’ll try setting up a reward system at first, wanting to not go straight into punishments. You’ve only been here for a few days, so he assumes you just don’t know better. He’ll reward what he deems as good behavior with sweets, time with him, or time doing your own thing. He wants to keep you happy and stimulated so you’ll appreciate him.

Drugs you the first time you try to fight him. He’ll experiment with different doses until he’s keeping you under some drug almost 24/7. If you won’t listen, he’ll just fix you himself. By keeping you too tired to fight back, he finds it much easier to hold you and love you. He’s able to keep you under his thumb fairly easily.

Takes you off the drugs once a week to see how much progress you made. If you’re still too much of a hassle, he’ll drug you again and wait a while. He doesn’t want to rush it.

Isn’t afraid to break a few fingers if you keep trying to fight. He’ll make you sick or break a leg once you get too unruly for his tastes. He’s not one to let bad behavior slide.

He’ll slowly work at making you calmer, trying to bring you back to your old personality. He loves you and is willing to work with you, wanting to bring you back to your old self. He isn’t going to lose you.

Raph:

He didn’t expect a thing. You were always so sweet, he was astonished when he saw how hard you were fighting him. Your constant punches and harsh words made him upset. He thought this would be a smooth transition, and he was harshly mistaken.

He tries so hard not to snap back. Seeing you fight him despite having almost no chance of winning was amusing at first, especially with your kind demeanor, but he can only take so much.

He’ll keep you tied and gagged in an attempt to keep the fighting down. He’ll pretend you’re fine, that you weren’t hurtling insults and curses at him just moments before.

If you actually get a hit on him, he’ll go quiet. He’ll throw you in his room and keep it locked, leaving you alone for hours on end. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but you make it so hard to hold himself back.

But if he loses his temper, and isn’t able to walk away? You’re going to find just how hard a genetically modified weapon of war can punch. He’ll probably break your arm by accident, not even noticing. He’ll grab you and yell, his grip getting tighter without him noticing. He doesn’t let go until you’re sobbing on the floor.

He really didn’t mean to hurt you, honest. Just listening to you tell him how much you hated him day after day made him snap. He can still take care of you, he just needs you to accept your place with him.

He’s constantly paranoid about you escaping. You’re too volatile to be trusted, so you’re either in his sight, or locked down tight. He’d be devastated to lose you. He just wants you to love him, and go back the way you were. You might want to hurry up though. Raph isn’t known for his patience.

Leo:

He knew it would happen and saw the signs. During his months of stalking, he saw how you got when you felt threatened or spited. He was prepared for the backlash when he took you. He was ready to smother the fire out.

He tries to give you a decent amount of leeway with your insults. He’s hurt you would say all these things, but he’s hoping if he shows he’s not a threat, you’ll calm down. Until you start fighting physically.

The first time you try to punch Leo, you're not allowed to eat for three days. He ties your arms behind your back and holds you close, squeezing tighter in warning every time you try to squirm away. He wants you to feel safe with him, but he refuses to let you steamroll over him. He’s ready to fight back.

If you ever get a good hit, or try to majorly harm him, he’ll break your hand. He’s tired of your resistance, and just wants you to love him. If you fearing him gives him an opening to your heart, he’ll jump for it. He’s not too picky about how you fall in love, just that you do.

Is constantly holding you or touching you. He’s treating you like a feral cat, trying to get you used to him by exposure. In his mind, you’re just frightened, so if he can get you used to him and his presence, you’ll soften back up.

Guilt trips and gaslights you to no end. He’s constantly telling you how he’s in the right, and that he’s only punishing you because of your behavior. He promises he’ll be sweeter once you do the same.

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somewhereincairparavel · 7 months ago

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could u do something about thalia never showing up for jason? in the end of tlh he was hoping she’d show up for the counselors meeting and she didn’t so maybe a series of him making plans with her/trying to get in touch with her and just being disappointed every time… not thalia hate i love u thalia she just is too busy for him (while doing it during the months between tlh and son could be cool i think in between boo and toa would be more angsty bc u know he’s going through a breakup!!! he’s all alone in this random private school he isn’t familiar with the mortal world and he just wants his sister but she isn’t there!!!)

Two times Jason Grace wrote Thalia a letter, and the one time he didn't send it.

author's note: Ah this is so angsty and perfecttt :( The Grace siblings deserved more…they're my faves fr.. anyway, I hope I did justice to your request anon! Thank you for requesting, it made my day! I thoroughly enjoyed writing this. I just finished my exams and I'm back to having more time for writing :) you guys can send me more angsty jason prompts like this one if you want to, I'll write them with the best of my capabilities, I'm quite new to heavy angst like this so I was surprised when I was able to finish this within an hour. Jason Grace does this to me.

TW: severe angst. I mean it, very severe, character death, mentions of sacrifice, no happy ending. I went all out, I'm sorry. I was just way too into this.

Jason traced his finger over the glossy photo frame in his hands, which encrusted a picture of his older sister, Thalia. He had requested Leo to help him with the framing, the edges were made with a mahogany coating. He smiled at the lovely picture of his sister, her hair being held together by her silver huntress circlet, wearing her punk rock clothes.

Over the course of the summer, He had finally gotten the chance to take a good picture of Thalia for a family keepsake, he had held on to the tattered, torn picture of Thalia that annabeth had given to him before his first quest, and he still treasured it greatly. But he insisted that Thalia and him take at least one good picture before she disappeared with her maidens into the world, for months.

“And then Leo said-” Jason was cut off by thalia’s fellow maiden Phoebe, rushing towards them, yelling for thalia.

“Lady Thalia, lady Artemis is heavily in need of your assistance immediately!” Phoebe said panting. Thalia frowned and her eyes apologetically turned back to Jason. “I'll be there” she told her fellow huntress, before giving Jason a strangling hug. “I'm so sorry Jason, we'll talk later yeah?” Jason swallowed his disappointment after he saw how truly apologetic Thalia looked. “Of course, stay safe for me?” Thalia smiled sweetly and nodded at that before trudging up the path.

That was the last time he had seen of Thalia in months, and there was only one way to settle this. Jason decided to send in letters to his sister, that way, she could read it and keep them with her, and he could tell her everything without getting interrupted by anyone. He soon learnt to cherish this hobby alot. He loved his sister, and writing to her gave him a warm sense of comfort. He needed that, especially after Leo's death.

“Dear Thalia,

How have you been sis? I hope your mission with Phoebe to help Artemis went well! It's been pretty tough lately. My nightmares are plagued with pictures of mom. I know you of all people would understand how horrific that feels. I miss Leo, and piper's been acting a little strange around me lately.. but Leo's disappearance is taking a toll on her. So I get it. Nico is finally staying in camp half blood, isn't that great?? That boy deserved a break for once. Anyways, write back if you can, but if you can't, that's fine, I know you're busy.

–love, your annoying little brother.

Weeks, and months flew by, but still no response from Thalia. But he knew better than to take it seriously. Jason knew that she had gotten the letter, and that was enough for him. Well, that was enough, until things went downhill for him very quickly. Piper had approached him in the school corridor and thought it was a great day to end their year long relationship, shattering Jason's soul to pieces, this, coupled with the immense amount of pressure he had to build the minor god shrines, Jason felt numb, and he did what he usually did. He poured his heart out to Thalia in another letter, seeking comfort in his ink and paper. Longing for thalia’s presence once more.

“Dear Thalia,

it's me again, I hope you're doing good, atleast better than I am. I've been feeling terrible lately, Piper ended things with me, i guess we finally know why she was acting the way she did around me, huh? She said our relationship was only hera’s illusion and didn't feel that way about me anymore, which sucks, since I'm still very much in love with her. The pressure has increased tenfolds on me these days, the minor gods are heavily anticipating the promise I told them I'd keep. I'm planning on moving schools so i don't have to deal with the heartbreak of seeing Piper in school anymore. Anyways, I just wanted to write to you since it makes me feel better. Sending you lots of love from California.

— love, Your annoying little brother

Minutes. Hours. Days. Weeks. Months.

Jason knew. The moment the sibyl told him about looking for the third emperor. Jason knew, that his doomsday was going to knock on his doorstep very soon. He was going to sacrifice himself for Piper. And nobody was changing his mind. Jason stared out his dormitory window, the outside mortal world looked a little too cheery for the melancholic thoughts that were chasing his mind. He averted his gaze to the person in the picture frame hanging at his wall. Thalia had always been too busy for him. They had never had a proper full conversation together, one on one conversations getting disrupted, iris messages wearing out within a few minutes, even his letters never got a reply, or even a single acknowledgement.

Yet jason knew, that Thalia Grace was the only one who loved him more than anything in the world. She didn't have to spend time with him for him to know that. He knew by the way she had only left their childhood home after Jason was deemed “dead”, he knew by the way she had picked a two year old jason up after he injured his mouth with that stapler,he knew by the way she played hide and seek when they were little, he knew by the way she had told no one about him, not even annabeth, since he was a memory that she held close to her heart. So subconsciously, his hands wrapped around the pen he always used to write with. With shaky hands, and teary eyes slowly dripping in the paper, he began to write.

Thalia was resting on the rocks, thinking of how Jason was doing, she had recieved all his letters and read them through atleast 2 times. She wanted to respond, but it kept slipping her mind. Something had always come up, but now, she was finally free. Just as she was about to pick up her pen, she heard her name being called.

“Thalia!”

It was Reyna. She was holding an envelope, Thalia’s spirits skyrocketed at the thought of her brother sending her another letter. But.. why was it being sent through Reyna..? It was usually always sent by Jason's wind manipulation. Those letters would float towards her. That's how she always knew it was from her brother.

She was expecting Reyna to tease about Jason's cheesy letters to his sister, but what she wasn't expecting, was for Reyna to start sobbing on the spot, breaking out the news that her younger brother was dead.

Jason. Her little stapler eating brother. Was dead.

“This was found by Meg in Jason's desk.” Reyna shakily handed Thalia the envelope. It was a blue envelope, the usual colour that Jason always sent to her. And on top of it, was his smudy handwriting that Thalia could recognise from a mile away. The letter was signed “To Thalia Grace”.

Thalia opened it carefully but tears were leaking out of her eyes.

“Dear Thalia,

there's something that I've been keeping for a while now, but I know it's finally the time to tell you this. I met the sibyl in the labryinth who had told me that my life would be cut short. if went looking for the third emperor, Caligula, either me or Piper would be killed. There's no point denying the inevitable is going to happen. Prophecy's can never be thwarted, after all. I've made my choice, I'm not letting Piper die. I've decided that I am going to use myself as a sacrifice. I'm writing you this, to let you know, that, I love you. I love you so much sis, I hope you know that. I know we've never got to see eachother much, but I don't want you blaming yourself in any way for this. I hope you know that, writing to you, even without a response from your side all these months, has helped my life feel a lot more meaningful. the mere thought of you taking the time to read my letters makes me feel so loved. So happy. Now that I know that I might be meeting my end, I'm letting you know, that I've cherished every single thing you've ever said to me. Including the fact that you hate tomatoes on your sandwiches. Take care of yourself, sis, I'm always with you.

— love, for the last time, your annoying little brother :)

Thalia clutched the letter with her heart, screaming in agony. Thunder boomed angrily overhead, almost as if her father could feel her rage. Her heart strings were tearing apart. She sobbed, as she looked up at the blue sky, the same blue as Jason's darling eyes.

“I love you too. My annoying little brother, always”

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burningvelvet · 6 months ago

Text

Lord Byron responds to a fan letter from a woman named Harriette Wilson who was interested in befriending him, 1814:

“If my silence has hurt ‘your pride or your feelings’, to use your own expressions, I am very sorry for it; be assured that such effect was far from my intention. Business, and some little bustle attendant on changing my residence, prevented me from thanking you for your letter as soon as I ought to have done. If my thanks do not displease you, now, pray accept them. I could not feel otherwise than obliged by the desire of a stranger to make my acquaintance.

I am not unacquainted with your name or your beauty, and I have heard much of your talents; but I am not the person whom you would like, either as a lover or a friend. I did not, and do not 'suspect you,' to use your own words once more, of any design of making love to me. I know myself well enough to acquit anyone who does not know me, and still more those who do, from any such intention. I am not of a nature to be loved, and so far, luckily for myself, I have no wish to be so. In saying this, I do not mean to affect any particular stoicism, and may possibly, at one time or other, have been liable to those follies, for which you sarcastically tell me I have now no time: but these, and everything else, are to me at present objects of indifference; and this is a good deal to say, at six-and-twenty. You tell me that you wished to know me better; because you liked my writing. I think you must be aware that a writer is in general very different from his productions, and always disappoints those who expect to find in him qualities more agreeable than those of others; I shall certainly not be lessened in my vanity, as a scribbler, by the reflection that a work of mine has given you pleasure; and, to preserve the impression in its favour, I will not risk your good opinion by inflicting my acquaintance upon you.

Very truly your obliged servant, B.”

From the Memoirs of Harriette Wilson, discussing the letter:

"I had long been sentimentally in love with Lord Byron, and some years previous to the publication of the last canto of "Childe Harold," I had written to him to solicit the honour of his acquaintance.

"If, my lord," said I, in my letter, "to have been cold and indifferent to every other modern poet, while I have passed whole nights in studying your productions with the eagerness of one who has discovered a new source of enjoyment as surprising as it was delightful, deserves gratitude from the vanity of an author, or the gallantry of a gentleman, you will honour me with a little of your friendship."

Would you believe, reader, this eloquent epistle obtained me no answer during three long days? I was furious, and wrote again to tell him that he was a mere pedant; that my common sense was a match for his fine rhymes; that the best of us poor weak mortals—and I acknowledged him to be at the head of the list—must still be ignorant, subject to sickness, ill-temper, and various errors in judgment, therefore was there little excuse for his impertinence, in presuming to find fault with the whole world, as he had done in his "English Bards and Scotch Reviewers," at an age when his natural judgment could not be matured. It was vulgar, and showed the littleness which some want of philanthropy towards our poor fellow creatures always must evince. Was he really so superior, and would he crush the poor worms which dared not aspire to his perfections? Or was he but a mere upstart man, of extraordinary genius, without strength of mind to know what he would be at? Could he not, at least, have declined the honour I wanted to confer on him, civilly?

This eloquent letter ended simply thus, after assuring him that it was now much too late to make my acquaintance, as I had changed my mind and no longer desired it the least in the world—like the fox and the grapes—

"you be hang'd!

"HARRIETTE WILSON."

This, to a favourite, was tolerably severe; but when I take a liking to a person I must and will be something to them; so if they will not like me I always make it my business and peculiar care that they shall dislike and quarrel with me. Let me once get them into a quarrel and I am sure of them.

The next day I received the following answer from Lord Byron, dated Albany, Piccadilly.

[Letter from Byron inserted above]

This was very dry; but, I had not aspired to Lord Byron's love and I did not despair of making his acquaintance. I am indeed surprised that I never fell in love with his lordship; but, certain it is, that, though I would have given anything to have been his most humble friend and servant, his beauty was of a nature never to inspire me with warmer sentiments.

There was nothing whatever voluptuous in the character of it; it was wholly intellectual: and as such I honoured it; but give me for my lover an indolent being who, while he possesses talents and genius to do anything he pleases, pleases himself most and best in pleasing me! Au reste, I admire and look up to heroes, but indolent men make the best lovers.

I was a long while before I could convince Lord Byron that as a lover he would never have suited me; and really did not excite any passion in my breast; but, from the moment I had succeeded, his lordship threw off all reserve and wrote and spoke to me with the confidence of easy friendship and good-will, as though he had been delighted to find a woman capable of friendship, to whose vanity it was not at all necessary to administer by saying soft things to her."

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calypso707 · 10 months ago

Note

Hey hey could I maybe request gn!Changeling Tav? I was so disappointed I couldn’t play one in the game lololol

I think it's a good idea, I was inspired by the mirror scene with Astarion when I wrote it! Enjoy! ♥♥

OS - Astarion x Gn changeling reader : I see you.

You were a changeling, a very rare creature, of which there were very few in all of Faêrun. The few that survived became monsters or were used against their will as cunning spies, political envoys or assassins. Your past had constantly been punctuated by abuse, manipulation, torture and experiments of all kinds. You had done things that still haunt you today, under the yoke of evil masters. Until you were kidnapped by mind flayers during one of your missions. These creatures had used you and implanted a tadpole in your brain so that you could become one of them.

Luck was never on your side. That's what you thought until the Githyanki warriors attacked the ship you were on. You had miraculously survived the crash of their nautiloid, you hadn't yet turned into a purple being full of tentacles and you had made some very strange allies. In the end, now that you think about it, everything that had happened to you wasn't so bad - you'd been able to escape your twisted past. Of course, there were a few drawbacks, such as the friend who had made your brain his cosy nest and the fact that you were constantly in danger. But you preferred this new life, surrounded by loyal allies.

At first, they were sceptical about the idea of having a shapeshifter around, but your ability had proved very useful on several occasions. You were able to use it to manipulate and trick your enemies, something you knew how to do so well. But there was no point in fooling yourself, your past was going to catch up with you, one way or another. Either way, you didn't want to think about it now. You wanted some peace. You took a few minutes to wash yourself in the river, to get rid of the smell of blood and goblins that was sticking to your skin. You sat by the campfire to warm up, as the night air was particularly cool this evening. You continued to blot your hair with a clean cloth, your gaze lost in the ballet of flames before your eyes. It was quite late, and everyone had gone back to their usual activities: Shadowheart was meditating, Lae'zel was sharpening her blade to better slice through her enemies, Wyll was enjoying a fine wine, Gayle was practising his magic, and Karlach was lying on her straw mattress admiring the stars.

Your gaze lingered on Scratch, who was running around the camp with a bone in his mouth. You smiled at the animal's carefree attitude: he had lost his master but had found another home, and he seemed to enjoy it. He walked past Astarion's tent who was standing with his back to you, you could just see that he had a mirror in his hand. It was the first time you'd seen him with anything other than an old manuscript in his hands. A special bond had developed between you thanks to a common thread: your crooked past. You hadn't told him very much about your life before though. You were similar, two beings broken by their master. The only difference between you was perhaps his appetite for blood. You finally got up and approached him, curiously.

"Are you looking at something?" questioned the vampire.

"How did you know I was here?"

"Another disadvantage of my condition, the lack of reflection."

"Do you miss it? Seeing your face?" you questioned. And what a question, of course he must miss it. You were about to add something but Astarion answered anyway.

"Do I miss looking at my reflection out of sheer vanity? Of course I miss it. I haven't seen my new face since my eyes turned red and I grew fangs."

"What colour were they before?" you asked.

"I.. I don't know. I can't remember. My face is just a dark shape in my past now. Another thing I've lost." He spat before throwing the mirror to the ground, shattering it.

When the object hit the floor, you flinched slightly. You felt guilty for having brought back painful memories. You wanted to make up for it. You looked at him for a long time, squinted your eyes and took a step towards him. You learnt the contours of his ivory face by heart, the smallest detail to engrave it forever in your memory. You scrutinised his carmine eyes, which had the power to pierce any being, the slight wrinkles in the corners of his eyes that became more obvious when he smiled, laughed or got angry. His light hair that fell gracefully around his pointed ears, in pretty curls. His lips, slightly pink, on which you had placed countless kisses.

"What?" said Astarion, not understanding why you were watching him like that.

"I see you." you replied, looking at him.

"And tell me, what exactly do you see?"

"I'll show you," you said simply. "Close your eyes"

"What?"

"Shut up and close your eyes," you sighed.

Astarion looked at you, hesitant at first before finally closing his eyes. You didn't like it when your companions watched you transform, because it wasn't pleasant to watch in the first place, and on top of that, it was painful for you to change shape. You could feel your bones growing, your skin stretching, you could feel all the changes taking place in your body. But you were prepared to endure this discomfort to give Astarion comfort. And so you took on his appearance. You finally cleared your throat to get the vampire's attention, and he finally opened his eyes. He seemed surprised at first, deeply surprised and disturbed by what he had in front of him. His exact copy. He was so confused that he didn't know how to react.

"It's… Is it me?" said the former magistrate at last. "Is that what you see, every day?"

"Yes."

Astarion was examining you meticulously and he finally approached you, examining every detail of your face. Or rather his face. You could see the pain in his eyes, but also the gratitude. He was recapturing something he'd lost two centuries ago, seeing himself again for the first time. You could feel that your power was going to dissipate very soon due to fatigue, but you wanted to try and hold on. For his sake. He deserved it. He raised his hand to touch the white curls on your head but finally pulled back after a few long seconds and turned his head away, looking… So vulnerable. You shook your head to dispel your power and regain your appearance, and you came to regret your action.

"I'm sorry. That was inappropriate, maybe I shouldn't have…"

"No, no. It was a nice gift you gave me," Astarion said finally. "It simply reminded me of what I really am, a miserable spawn."

You could hear the pain in his voice and you moved closer, grabbing his face between your hands so that he would look at you, which he finally did. He wasn't a miserable spawn, he was a prisoner of his twisted past, he was still suffering from the abuses he had experienced, but he was more than just a spawn. He was an ally, a friend, a lover, and you wanted to cherish and spoil him until your heart stopped beating. You wanted him to see himself as you saw him.

"You are much more than what Cazador made you. You don't have to pay the price for your past, you're free now." you say, without taking your eyes off him. "You are Astarion, amateur of art, literature and old brandy. You are quick-witted, mischievous and impertinent, eloquent and incredibly charming. All these things define you more than your red eyes and fangs. And I'd like you to know how grateful I am to have you by my side."

Astarion looked at you, astonished by your words. He had let his guard down, in front of you, once again. He had allowed himself to do it, and every time you saw him like that, so vulnerable, your heart was writhing in your chest with pain. He was good at hiding his feelings, but with you he showed himself as he really was. A deeply broken soul trying to forget the weight of his past. The vampire wrapped his hand around your wrist, smiling slightly.

"I think I can live without mirrors. Besides, seeing yourself through someone else's eyes isn't so bad." replied Astarion. "Seeing myself through your eyes is enough for me"

_______________________________________________

Thank you for reading it, feel free to check out my other writings on Astarion! ♥︎♥︎

Astarion x gn reader : On your skin (pt 1)

Astarion x gn reader : A thousand thanks

Astarion x gn reader : No place for love

Fic : Astarion x Fem! bard Tav : Fruit of the Poisonned Tree

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anerdinallherglory · 3 months ago

Text

Approaching Sun (38)

Author’s Note: Long note ahead.

You guyssss. I’m sorry for the delay. The Sasuke that I am writing is new territory for most of us. I write, then rewrite until it feels right. And I have never rewritten my own script as much as I did in this chapter. If you enjoy my writing, please take a chance on my live draft on Wattpad called Beneath the Hollow Grove. There will be romance, so the same chemistry between characters in my fanfiction is very likely to be appearing there. This chapter is dedicated to Teo and ttsukei. Thank you for your extra support and love. It means everything.

Approaching Sun will eventually come to an end (sad but rewarding at the same time). I am guesstimating a total of 42-45 chapters total. I never foresaw A.S. being as long as it is already, or taking as nearly as long as it has to finish it. To be honest, I started this years ago to improve creative writing with my OTP, and anticipated on ditching it when my ADHD got the better of me. But the community kept asking and I kept giving. You can thank those people if you have enjoyed it because this story was written 100% in return for their comments and support.

Also, if you enjoy my SasuSaku, you can find a one-shot I wrote before A.S. on Fanfiction.net/Wattpad by the name of “Sakura’s Letter.” It fits these A.S. characters well.

Last but not least, there is a facebook fanpage for A.S. at the link on my Tumblr if you’d like to join. Hoping to share further A.S. resources there after the story is complete.

Songs for this chapter: Technicolour Beat by Oh Wonder & Feel Something by James Young

Thanks always, ANerdinAllHerGlory

. . .

CW: Discussion of Suicide; read with caution

Pairing: SasuSaku

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37

Chapter 38: Methods of Atonement & Eternal Burning

Just when Sakura thought the insect-glow induced spell might diminish or expire between them, she glanced over her shoulder as she bathed in the warm cave waters to see that Sasuke watched her from the bank. He sat familiarly reclined with an arm over his knee, and where Sakura might have expected his countenance to have once again returned to the smooth planes and carefully composed eyes of guardedness, she sucked in a breath to see an expression wholly new to her. His mouth was parted in a silent reverence as he beheld the cleansing paths her hands traced over her collarbones, down her neck and through her hair. Had she even thought Sasuke capable of looking at another human that way? Well, it lasted until she reached up and over her shoulder to run water down her back, right between her shoulder blades where Sasuke’s fingers had traced the Uchiha symbol. His countenance slipped, a frown of consideration deepening the lines between his brows.

Having an idea of his annoyance, she turned her back to him and smiled silently to herself when he stood, waded waist deep into the starry-lit water to join her.

“Washing already?” he murmured in that low Uchiha disappointment that told Sakura he was pretending to pout. And his faux ire at such a notion was pleasant enough to warm Sakura from within and she prided herself on her self-restraint in this moment, because she wanted to smile like an idiot until her face split at the creases of her lips.

With Sasuke’s strict abstinence of years and a single-sided willpower to outlast her own desires these last several months, Sakura was pleasantly astonished to discover that Sasuke Uchiha didn’t have such restraint in that moment. Turning her to face him, he stilled her efforts completely by touching his lips to hers. And the kiss was softer. Much slower than before. Like a whisper in a cave.

Sakura had always daydreamed about what sort of lover the untouchable Uchiha, Sasuke might be. She always expected him to be as Sasuke-ish about everything possible, including his love life. He would be the sort of man to keep his interactions with her formal in the public eye, respectable, reserved, and avoiding all physical contact that some couples easily flaunted for others to see. This was the reality that Sakura had long predicted and, therefore, accepted and did not anticipate Sasuke to be the sort of partner who, over the last couple of months, might secretly hold her hand while she slept, find excuses to be next to her, crave her touch in the private moments shared between them, and kiss her tenderly even after their bodies separated. As sad as that sounded, Sakura had predicted it, because despite how much she loved him, he was still going to be Sasuke, in the most adjective form possible of the word.

Which was why Sakura certainly had not expected the overwhelming passion of moments ago, the longing that passed between their mouths and the intensity of years’ worth of suppressed feelings into such a surmounting detonation. An explosion of celestial matter.

“It’s annoying,” he growled mischievously between their lips, tearing Sakura from her thoughts as she concentrated back on his current vexation. It had to be because Sakura had washed away the traces of Uchiha symbol he had marked between her shoulder blades. She laughed in response and continued to pull him deeper into the water, ignoring his attempts to stop her from erasing the evidence of his actions. Not even his devoted mouth making her breathless and his following steps as she descended into the river, was enough to prevent Sakura from completely submerging. And with her impossible human strength, she pulled him under after her.

Sakura saw his eyes widen in the dim glow of ethereal lights, and she grinned wickedly in return, just before complete and total blackness consumed them. The water was brisk but not freezing, the balmy cave already warming the new layers of flood water. In the depths, void of sound and light, she felt Sasuke’s arm twine around the dip in her spine, binding her body to his, and the lack of all other sensation made the grasping touch alleviate every nerve in her person. Like a healing salve to an old wound Sakura hadn’t even realized she still possessed, Sasuke’s touch was the remedy to every feeling of loss, every doubt, and confusion she had ever had in regards to him. His possessive touch that clung to her body like she was now an extension of himself made everything in the past suddenly forgivable even if what had happened wasn’t okay. It was forgivable because it brought them to this.

That look of reverence he had been appraising her with just a moment ago was completely replaced when they surfaced, an artificial glare of mild displeasure at being drenched completely eclipsing it. “Have I told you lately that you are the most annoying woman I have ever met?”

“Twice now in the last five minutes,” she giggled, wrapping her legs around his waist as Sasuke’s feet found the smooth underground surface once more. And that glare evaporated, turning back into veneration as Sasuke’s body reacted to her embrace. And Sakura realized that needed to say something now, before his knee found a chakra-controlled perch on the glassy surface of the water and he was pulling her up with him to take her between his body and the water below. She could see that he was already envisioning something of the sort in his mind.

“The last thing I want is for this between us to end,” she announced as she wound her greedy fingers through his wet hair—she had always imagined doing this very thing and it was so satisfying to finally be able to do so. “But we’re running out of time. I need to survey the area, and in the morning, I need to report to Katsuyu in Shikkotsu Forest and check on the men I’ve captured. Waiting for the off-hand chance that remaining members of Zenshin might discover our location won’t exactly get us anywhere.”

“You need food,” he whispered against her skin, and Sakura sighed as his wet hand slid up her back to reach the same spot where he had traced the Uchiha symbol earlier, giving up his quest and washing where she could not. She knew Sasuke would be sensible with her decision to move forward with her plans and reasoned that he would probably try to focus his attention back on his own mission of Kaguya once this electricity between them dissipated into a comfortable normal.

And as his words settled, Sakura realized she hadn’t eaten in almost forty-two hours and her stomach grumbled loudly to Sasuke’s victorious smirk as he successfully delayed their departure by a few moments more.

. . .

Sakura returned to the central cavern after a few private minutes to herself, the charred fragrance of something crackling over a fresh fire luring her from the enchanting tunnel of glowworms. The muffled roar of the waterfall was distant and had quieted significantly enough that Sakura could hear the crack of the fire as Sasuke roasted whatever little, unfortunate, and very possibly blind cave dwellers he had managed to find down here for them to eat.

“What are those?” she asked, crouching beside him to assess the row of tiny fish now charred and black on the skewers.

“Something between an eel and a fish,” he announced. “Neither and both. Living fossils only found in caves.”

Sakura raised an eyebrow as she investigated the freshwater fish. She couldn’t quite make out anything distinct about them now that they had been basically cooked to a crisp. Sasuke handed her a skewer and her ravenous appetite made her overlook the unfamiliar eel-fish quickly.

As she ate next to him, Sakura began to feel the contrasting shift in Sasuke’s demeanor. He ate silently, avoided her eyes, and kept the small space undisturbed between them as he stared off into the black beyond the illuminated circumference of their warming fire. Sakura stiffened in response, simultaneously annoyed at the change and nervous at its meaning. She searched his expression for any clue as to what he might be thinking and felt her stomach dropping the longer he refused to return her regard. Could a few moments apart have already cleared his mind and reset his determinations somehow? How could he go from “We won’t be able to go back from this” and “Until death” to being all hesitant again? Sakura halted her spiraling train of thought before she came crashing down like one of the stalactites hanging off the ceiling. Maybe it was something else and she just needed to address him directly. That was healthy, wasn’t it?

“What’s wrong?” she blurted. “You’re overthinking things aren’t you?” She was frightened that he would answer that with more silence or even worse, a declaration of how he had thought about what had happened, decided it was a mistake, and had changed his mind. But he laughed instead, that small, signature hmph of ejected air that had Sakura sighing in relief.

“There’s no going back now, remember?” she continued teasingly, capitalizing on his small sign of amusement at her words. “Because It’s too late to mope and reconsider how you’re not the best for me and blah blah blah.” She would do what many women often did when faced with uncomfortable couple confrontations. She would call him out on his thinking, his pattern of behavior that signaled her anxiety, and disguise it as a lighthearted chastisement and reminder. “We get to choose each other.”

“I meant what I’ve said,” he answered seriously before rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he fumbled for the words that always tangled in his throat. “But, I was irresponsible earlier and—I am sorry. What do I need to do for—Do you need anything?”

Oh. That. Sakura's face instantly reddened at the words, because she immediately knew what he was referring to and what exactly he had been hung up on until now. There were no precautions taken in the moment, and Sakura didn’t know if Sasuke’s questions were because he was worried Sakura might be angry about his carelessness after the fact, or worse, he might fear the possible consequences of such an impulsive choice.

Sakura assessed his own flushed face and he looked away again, firelight-reflecting eyes revealing the warring predicament she hadn’t been able to decipher up until now. She looked down shyly as well when she answered him.

“You don’t have to worry,” she whispered, genuinely hoping to ease his concerns even if a small part of her wished he didn’t have any. “I had prepared before… before the brothel. Just in case.”

And as his eyes snapped to her face, Sakura saw him set his jaw in understanding and trap the words he was holding there. Sakura didn’t make any adjustments to her phrase or retract her statement, because it was the truth of it, and even if it wasn’t the exact answer he cared to hear, she hoped it would be enough reassurance for him. Before Sakura had left Sunagakure, she had prepped the bag of contraceptives, taking several doses before handing over what was left to Tabi, the girl Sakura had entrusted the supplies to before she left. She hadn’t planned on using her body as Sasuke had originally feared she meant to do, but Sakura also wasn’t naïve to think she might be completely untouchable despite her claims to Sasuke that she was. As a woman, physician, and ninja, she wasn’t going to be unprepared walking into a brothel; she had also reminded herself that it would be a wise choice to get started on them anyway after expressing her desires to Sasuke about being more. Regardless, the contraceptive had been taken and the doses were supposed to last months per measurement, so Sakura wasn’t too concerned about her and Sasuke’s actions tonight.

When Sasuke stiffened and made to angle his body back toward the fire, Sakura reached out for his hand and gently grasped his fingers, a now special form of communication between them. In the beginning of their traveling together, the tender touches between them had been the first blessed crack in the ice constructed walls of Sasuke Uchiha—the big bang initiation that led to the them of now. And she hoped the gesture would work for her again as she used it once more to bring him back to the warmth they had discovered together behind those walls.

Sakura focused on her courage, fighting to have the desire to stay on the topic while it was before them. Even if her preservatory instinct was to move on from the subject as quickly as possible, Sakura knew that the mature, responsible thing to do would be to discuss it. Thoroughly, so that they could come to an agreement, find common ground, and try to be on the same page heading forward. It was a condition to their partnership that they had long since established: communication.

“Sasuke, I understand if you don’t want a family right now.” And he was looking away from her again as he, too, struggled to overcome the new discomfort of serious “couple” conversations between them. Sakura’s heart panged as she thought that maybe this nervousness meant that Sasuke Uchiha would never want children, even with her. She told herself to breathe, and not jump ahead, but she couldn’t resist voicing her fear: “Do you never–"

“It’s not a never,” he shuttered, finding her eyes with his own. “It’s just—my mission concerning Kaguya is unforeseeable.” He found her eyes and looked down when he saw the sadness his response instantly elicited in her face. He rushed to add, squeezing her fingers back. “But I promise to fight for that future. I’ll find the Otsusuki race. I’ll make the world safe so I can come back to you.”

Sakura nodded, her heart still feeling unsettled at such a promise. She reminded herself that by choosing Sasuke, she was choosing him and him alone. She wouldn’t force him to abandon his goals in order to be a husband and a father. “Even if we spend our lives like orbiting stars, passing one another in the night,” she had promised. “The miniscule amount of time I spend next to you will be more than I would want with anyone else.” It was her own vow to him, and Sakura had never meant truer words. Sakura knew what this life meant, and she could tell by the look on his face that he was worried, already concerned that she was regretting. And maybe in her heart, she was disheartened that their reality would be a difficult one. Sakura would be sacrificing several dreams, and she would have to make her peace with it all in time, because despite it all, she wanted Sasuke more than anything else. She also wanted a peaceful future, and Sasuke was the only person, in a combined effort with Naruto’s future leadership, capable of ensuring that it came to pass by fulfilling his side.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he shook his head, and Sakura saw him steel himself with a breath before forcing out, “I’m already sorry for so much. I think I’ll live our entire lives being sorry, Sakura.”

She gently squeezed his hand and shook her head as well. “I meant what I said too. I want this life with you, whatever it looks like. And of course, I eventually want a family with you, but only if that’s what you want, too. It comes second to everything else. Or not at all. Okay?”

He nodded in obvious relief and, to Sakura’s continuing list of surprises, pulled her to him. Her hands found his chest to brace herself and he inhaled the scent of her hair, whispering an apology in the crook of her neck. She kissed his lips sweetly with a comforting smile, but Sasuke took advantage and kissed her again, fervently, tenderly, consolingly in return. And Sakura decided to let him push her to the ground beneath him where his hand slid up her thigh. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Sakura made the connection that Sasuke’s conversation skills were barely adequate, but that in the private moments between them, he would choose to compensate for it with the language of bodies. This, too, was not what Sakura had expected, but it made sense that the stoic, awkward Uchiha might choose to express himself with the dedicated dialect spoken with the only other person who could receive, comprehend, and appreciate that language. With her legs tossed over his shoulders, and her fingers in his hair, and Sasuke’s head between her thighs, Sakura submitted completely as he made her forget her current and future grievances. He devoted his apology to her body like an act of repentance, and Sakura decided she would take him, take the man who promised a lifetime of regretful apologies, if this was his method of atonement. Sakura didn’t know that apologies could come in the form of slow arousals, roaming tongues, and—holy shit, suction. The sound of his own name from her mouth was the only verbalization of forgiveness that Sasuke needed in their mutually exclusive vernacular.

Sasuke was a fucking idiot. He had thought this to himself as he fisted each and every eel fish coasting below his feet, as he tried to explain his thoughts to her about starting a family, and even now as he stared at her back as they lay tangled together in sleep for the second night. Adding to the list of self-deprecations, Sasuke cursed himself for foregoing the Uchiha symbol on his clothing several years ago as an act of penance. At the time, Sasuke had felt that in order to preserve whatever was left of his clan’s dignity, he needed to part with wearing the symbol until after he felt properly atoned. He didn’t want his past and image to represent the Uchiha, furthering the disgrace of his clan in the eyes of those who knew their history or was learning of it for the first time. But as he had traced the symbol between Sakura’s shoulder blades, Sasuke had had the realization that Sakura, the only other person to bear the Uchiha name, was now going to be the new face representing their clan. In contrast to himself, Sakura had always been unwavering in her goodness, unblemished by wrongdoings, and righteously leading a new generation of mental health advocates and creating new healthcare standards. Her reach would know no bounds and there wouldn’t be a better individual walking this dimension to wear the Uchiha crest, to start a new history associated with it. It wouldn’t be Sasuke leading the Uchiha clan into the future; it would be her.

Which is why he was cursing himself now for not possessing at least one article of clothing with his crest so that he could be staring at her back in the firelight as she boasted the mark that identified her to the world as an Uchiha and as his. Did that make him a possessive bastard? Probably. But it was an Uchiha trait to be so and Sasuke was more Uchiha in both good and bad senses of the word than many before him.

And, he thought privately to himself, if his actions of last night bore the natural consequences, there could be two individuals aside from himself demonstrating to the world what the Uchiha could be. Which is why he was a fucking idiot. Because fuck, he wanted that reality as much as his next breath of oxygen. He wanted to be staring at his family’s backs as a miniature raven-haired child clung to his wife’s hand through a busy Konoha market street. It was why he had made a mistake last night, choosing to recklessly chase his high with abandon because it was the dream he wanted—knew that at the end of the day, was what Sakura wanted too. And that’s why it had devastated him to make that apology to his new wife, prepared to do what he needed to do to not force the responsibility of a child on Sakura alone while he had no choice but to continue on his mission to find those who Kaguya feared, the rest of the Otsusuki race.

He had even fucked up that apology, incompetently trying to form the words. How did he tell the woman he had just tied to himself in a cave of stars that he fucking wanted to watch her grow heavy with the swell of his child while simultaneously dreading the reality of what that would mean for her. And for him. He would miss it. He would miss all of it. He had promised Sakura a fifty-fifty partnership, and Sasuke had only just realized how badly he would fail that promise.

And these thoughts continued into the morning as the fissure in the ceiling went from boasting the brightest of stars above them to the thin purpling stripe of summer dawn, and Sakura rose from their tangled sleep, a new set determination in her shoulders to handle the members of the organization she had sent days ago into the home of her personal summon, Katsuyu.

“What’s your plan?” he asked as she turned to face him, triple folding his borrowed black trousers along her hips to make them fit better. They still hung loosely around her calves and she rolled the arms of his long sleeved shirt until the cuffs were chunky and hit her wrists exactly. He raised an eyebrow appreciatively knowing that Sakura was just making do, but the vision of her sporting a modified version of his attire sent his mind back into a perilous orbit.

“You’re not going to like your options in my plan,” she announced, oblivious to his wandering eyes.

That statement was more than sobering and it instantly put Sasuke on guard. He frowned at her.

She swallowed before saying, “You can stay here and focus on your—"

“Don’t finish that sentence,” he bristled as he interrupted her, getting really tired of hearing that phrase come out of her mouth—even though he had been the one say it a million times before this. He guessed that he deserved to hear it as often as he had said it. “I’m going with you.”

The absolute irony of his words hit them both immediately as he said it.

The pink-haired kunoichi laughed and rubbed the back of her neck as she bluntly said, “Then your second option is to be very still while Katsuyu swallows you whole, and I release her summoning back to Shikkotsu Forest. It’s the only way for you to get there. Just like the rest of them.”

Sasuke’s eye visibly twitched. “And option three is?”

“You could walk, but it would take you weeks to catch up, not to mention how much work it would take to avoid the hazards of Shikkotsu Forest such as beasets, acid pools, and toxin seeping trees.”

Sasuke tried not to be miffed that she was suggesting it might be difficult for him to traverse Shikkotsu Forest, even though he had spent the last several years exploring similar dimensions, but he trusted that if she was saying that it was bad, then it probably very well was. “And you were planning on transporting these people back to Konoha, how exactly?”

“The same way I plan on getting you in and out.”

He groaned and she smiled innocently.

They had to get these people back to Konoha somehow. Not to mention the dozens of Zenshin members Sasuke had tossed into a dimension two days ago, telling them to begin their walk northeast for about thirty kilometers where they would find a stash of supplies Sasuke kept there to sustain them while they waited for his return. He hadn’t bothered to explain that if they weren’t at the designated spot, where the dimension spaces crossed with the Leaf Village, they would eventually die in that dimension. At the time, he hadn’t quite cared what happened to them in there, and he selfishly hadn’t spared them another thought sense. Sasuke supposed that it was a tiny reason to speed things along so he didn’t have any unnecessary victims, even if they did deserve it, at the very least, for not being able to follow simple instructions. He just didn’t want to have to explain it to Sakura.

And the next thing Sasuke knew, Katsuyu was being summoned and Sasuke was resigned to a slimy fate of the inching human-sized slug as it ascended his body. And that pink-haired woman of his had the absolute audacity to declare teasingly with a grin, “It would be easier if you were laying down,” but he only glared at her with his most severe displeasure, not having the time to respond or even scoff before the damn thing had consumed his face entirely. And as Sasuke was encapsulated in a bath of mucus, water, and salt—yes, it somehow got in his fucking mouth (probably when he lifted his lip to sneer at Sakura’s black-streaked cheeks and sadistic expression)—he realized with a newfound appreciation how endearing Aoda seemed in comparison. That was indeed one beautiful snake.

And within moments, Sasuke found himself on his back, eyes projected toward a tree canopy so dense, the light struggled to penetrate below, creating a blue-green cast that darkened the forest around him. Travelling from the aphotic void of the underground sanctuary of seconds ago to the ear-piercing hum of the insect and amphibian infested jungle of a forest, left Sasuke feeling deafened by the abrasive cacophony. In a satirical form of irony, Sasuke suddenly wasn’t so opposed to the slug form currently detaching itself from his face and ears. Katsuyu, the source and embodiment of healing itself, even left the Uchiha feeling more restored than before which made Sasuke just the tiniest bit sorry for his initial disgust towards the creature. He bit back his urge to say something in condolence to the beast who had no initial indication of his discomfort to begin with, so Sasuke bit his lip, feeling all sorts of confused feelings in that moment.

“Sasuke,” the slug spoke to him in her singsong of a voice, “Milady will be present shortly, appearing where my main body is two miles north of here. She asked me to deposit you here to help corral a man back to the central location. He has wandered to this location.”

Sasuke instantly frowned at the slug’s words. He supposed some silent conversation had happened between Katsuyu and Sakura in the minute it took to transport him. That, or this was some clever way to distract Sasuke while she took advantage of the distance he still had to traverse. Hadn’t the kunoichi just told him that the Shikottsu Forest was a hazard maze? Well, she obviously had more faith in his abilities than she had let on when discussing option three, the annoying tease.

Sasuke took in his surroundings more carefully, trees taller than the Hokage Monument towering to the sky as vines thicker than Aoda twisted up and around them. It made the forest where the Chunin Exams were held almost miniature in scale. Sasuke supposed it made sense that beasts of gargantuan size such as the three Sanin summons to have come from even larger habitats, environmental determinism and all that.

A thick fog hovered above the ground, and Sasuke stood and leaned his head up to view the treetops above, breathing in as he activated his ocular jutsu, the tomoes spinning into both red and purple eyes. With his dual dojutsu, Sasuke surveyed the area more closely, peering beyond the fog blanketed trees in front of him, where the treacherous swamp and pools of bubbling black acid threatened to pull him into a fiery oblivion like the siren call of an eternally burning river in hell. Sakura had been right to warn him of this place; she had personally encountered Kaguya’s acid-sea dimension, after all. Acid didn’t stop burning until it could be scrubbed from the skin. Falling in a lagoon of it would be the absolute worst of deaths. Sasuke moved forward, toward the chakra network and watery outline of the soul he was supposedly sent to retrieve. Approximately fifty meters beyond the trees in his immediate vision, Sasuke analytically watched the flickering figure before him, their heartbeat speedily beating as they stood erect, still, and unmoving.

Sighing, Sasuke moved toward the individual, slowly and silently, contemplating what exactly Sakura had expected him to do. It was indeed perilous, to navigate the small path that winded between acid reservoirs, and Sasuke’s footfalls were near silent as he proceeded with slow and deliberate caution. The physical form of Sasuke’s fixation materialized from the mist, a man who stood before one of the black, endless, gurgling acid ponds. The stranger’s back was turned to Sasuke and, unexpectedly, the man’s head tilted in Sasuke’s direction as he detected the Uchiha’s approaching presence. Sasuke raised an eyebrow privately at the man’s perceptiveness despite Sasuke’s silent footfalls. He had to be a ninja, then, without a shadow of a doubt, if he was able to sense him.

Sasuke took in the man’s appearance more carefully: tall, dark hair, a tailor-fitted suit as if he were some sort of mobster instead of a ninja. Of course, that suit now displayed various tears and holes, the wearable evidence of days in the Shikkotsu Forest. Was he missing a shoe?

“Reaper?” came his voice next, a resigned, melancholic breathlessness as if he were talking to himself rather than acknowledging Sasuke’s presence.

Sasuke was getting that sort of association a lot lately. If the world continued to sense him as such before they even knew him, was he honestly doing a well enough job redeeming himself? He shook the thought away.

“But I haven’t done it yet,” the man whispered again, just before toeing the pool of acid with is remaining shoed foot. He screamed instantly when the acid ate through the leather of his sole and found his toes. He bent, ripping the melting shoe away. Well, that explained the first shoe, then, Sasuke assessed. And then Sasuke’s gut was sinking as the man straightened his back, finding the resolve to do it again, and the entire situation started to make a lot more sense to him. Just exactly why Sakura had sent Sasuke to retrieve him. The slug had known what the man was planning, what was about to happen.

The man was going to jump—all in, at once. He bent, sucking in a loud breath as if he were about to dive. And then propelled his body into the air. And Sasuke’s Rinnegan was activating before he could even register his choices. And within seconds, Sasuke’s body had replaced the man with himself feet above the black abyss of acid, and now he was on the planned trajectory of the consequences of this man’s suicide attempt. And before Sasuke could even question whether or not a ninja might be able to direct chakra and walk along the surface of acid like they did water, the Eternal Mangekyo of his right eye was spinning, and the skeletal arms of his imperfect Susanoo shot out and braced their hands on either side of the acid pond. Sasuke sneered in the man’s direction after he righted himself and stepped down onto the bank and stalked back toward the man who now lay sprawled where Sasuke had just been standing seconds before.

The giant fist of the Susanoo shot outward, collecting the man into its glowing grip, the blazing yellow eyes of the Susanoo’s face inches from his own.

The man cried out in surprise, probably believing that he had indeed fallen into the realm that came after death. But his next words gave Sasuke pause. “Who’s there?” Despite the man’s initial fear, Sasuke suddenly realized that he wasn’t seeing the Susanoo at all. He felt the grip that held him, the crushing digits of the chakra-controlled entity, but he cast his wide eyes about as if not sure where he should be looking.

And then Sasuke saw it. The dirty bandage-wrapping that had fallen from his eyes at some point to rest around his neck like a prophetic noose. Because the man had been correct. It was the Reaper that had found him. Sasuke was going to finish the man himself because recognition hit the Uchiha in full force. He had seen this ninja before in the memories of that girl at the brothel. Before him was the ninja who had pulled Sakura into his lap and touched her black-dyed hair as if she had been his to do so. Rugo. That was the name Sakura had relayed to him over a campfire in a cave, and Sasuke had let the name sear a hole into his memory the same way the flames of that fire burned into his vision. He would never forget it.

“You were right the first time,” Sasuke smirked, gladly becoming that deathbringer of his fear, the darkness in the Uchiha like an incurable itch that he sometimes craved to scratch. Even though it was when he indulged himself, that he got into trouble, Sasuke still couldn’t resist the urge when it came to defending his friends.

“Uchiha,” Rugo breathed, more solid but still another fearful recognition coming from his lips. “You might as well be.” He grunted as the Susanoo’s fingers tightened as if they were Sasuke’s own.

“That’s right.” Sasuke confirmed, that characteristic drawl he used with his enemies coming back full force out of Sakura’s company. “You should have been faster. There’s nothing that burns like the black flames of Amaterasu. It doesn’t stop burning until there’s nothing left. The acid would have been a mercy in comparison.”

A steely calm came over Rugo’s face and Sasuke didn’t quite care for it. “I don’t know where she is. I had found her. Begged her to help me. And the next thing I knew, I woke up in this godforsaken place with those bastards for company.”

Sasuke registered his words with that signature “hn,” of acknowledgement, but nothing more. But internally, Sasuke was at war with himself. This was one of the men who had touched her. Sakura, his Team 7 teammate. And now she was more than that; she was his. This bastard had touched his fucking wife. The scene of that girls’ memories played over and over in his mind like his own personal hell of Sharingan genjutsu. But all he could hear was her. Those convicting words of her letter playing in his skull, still tucked against his chest as if it could be the second heart to operate and stand in place for his blackened one: ‘remember who you are.’ Damn, he really wasn’t trying hard enough honor his promise to himself, was he? Quite frankly, Sasuke didn’t want to. But Sakura’s order through the memory of mud and rain pounded in his ears as she yelled: “This isn’t who you are anymore! You can be merciful!” A declaration of weight whispered in a cave between bent heads came to him next: “You’re not a monster. Naruto and I will not let you be a monster.”

Sakura had sent him here. Knowing everything she did, the woman he loved still believed it was going to be Sasuke who would be the best between the two of them to retrieve this man. And he was suddenly very annoyed with her unwavering faith in him because it suddenly made Sasuke feel like he had to be worth that faith. Damn slug should have just left the issue—let the man do as he pleased.

Aw, fuck. Fine.

Sasuke sneered as he dropped the man to the ground before him, his Susanoo of chakra retreating back into the essence of him. The man scrambled to his knees and Sasuke turned and began to walk off before he changed his mind. “You’re very fortunate that the woman you speak of spared your life,” he drawled. “It’s the only reason I do now.” And after the wide eyed, unseeing man blanched, Sasuke added: “But by all means—don’t let me get in the way of what you were doing.”

The man nodded once, that serious, resolved expression returning to his ashen face.

But even as Sasuke put distance between them, his feet slowed when Rugo’s voice carried after him. “You’ve found her then. It’s the only way you would know how we got here. That’s good.”

Just keep walking, Sasuke told himself. Let the man do as he wished. He would tell Sakura that he hadn’t killed the man, at the very least. And what else could she honestly have expected of him? What was he supposed to do? Talk to him? She was delusional. Grab the stranger by the collar of his suit and corral him back toward her, the last person he wanted within a mile of her? Hmph. Unlikely.

“It must be wonderful,” Rugo exclaimed as he found a tree to lean back against. “To look at her. To watch that mouth and that hair.” The man let out a small groan. “I can only imagine it. She was the last woman I ever laid my eyes on. Not a bad view, for the last thing to see.”

Sasuke closed his eyes as the manipulative declaration designed to ensnare his rage hit his ears. And his feet came to an abrupt halt. He counted to three before he spoke next. “You really do have a death wish, don’t you?” Fucking bastard, testing his fragile resolve.

“You’re a fool to let her do what she did,” Rugo announced, and Sasuke wondered where all of a sudden, he found the fucking nerve. Probably was trying to get the Uchiha to run him through with his katana or burn him alive with unrelenting flame. “Now, Mozai will do more than just kill her. He’s vengeful, and he will make her pay for what she’s done personally. She’s done nothing but paint a bigger target on her back. And you let her.”

Sasuke had never been so tempted to laugh. As if he could stop that woman from doing anything she set her mind to. The two of them were alike in that way. “And if he ever dares to come close enough, he’ll see her back for himself and learn exactly who she is now and who he dares to fuck with.” Because Sakura Haruno was an Uchiha now, and he would soon show the world that. She would wear his crest. Their symbol. He had already decided it, but it was without question now. He would beg her if he had to.

Rugo laughed, and Sasuke turned to see him bend forward over his knees. “It won’t be enough.”

“Then tell me how to find him,” Sasuke drawled again. “I’ll kill him right after I’m done killing you.”

“I don’t know where he is. He could be anywhere. He is never in the same place, always moving.”

“There’s not a corner in this world where I have not been,” Sasuke told him. “I’ll find him soon.”

“That’s a relief. Good riddance.”

And Sasuke was a little curious to know why this man was even with them if he expressed hate for the leader. Rugo had said something about begging Sakura to help him? And Sasuke eyes flickered back toward the man’s bandages as Sasuke made the connections. He was blind. He was able to recognize Sakura in a brothel despite being so. She had been the last person he had seen before blindness… The war, then, Sasuke concluded. Rugo had been injured in the shinobi war.

“Is that why you’re set on killing yourself then?” Sasuke asked after a second of indecision. He was in the limbo of not caring, and being mildly curious simply because Sakura had been involved in some way. His interest was more along the lines of knowing one’s enemy and their motivations. “Because you lost your vision?” Sasuke scoffed cruelly.

“You couldn’t possibly understand, so don’t pretend that you do,” came Rugo’s angry accusation. “You’ve been blessed with the visual prowess of gods. You get to see the people you love.”

Sasuke sighed. He really wanted to just walk away, but for some reason, Sakura was always involving him with people who needed some sort of reality check. Sasuke wasn’t Naruto, but damn if he didn’t always end up in situations where he knew exactly what that idiot might say to these men. Something about joining him on his journey to bring peace to the shinobi world as if he were some sort of Saint to be followed. And hell, it had worked on Sasuke and many more, hadn’t it? Sasuke sighed in decided annoyance. Sasuke wasn’t inherently good like Naruto, but he had learned a few things over the last few years to draw upon for this speech. Especially in the last few months.

“I would give it up in an instant,” Sasuke told the blind man. “These eyes are a curse. They come with power and responsibility. If I could trade them for the life of peace that you could have, I would switch places with you this very second. Even with my vison intact, I soon won’t see get to see the people I care about most for a very long time. But if I were you, I could still hear her. Touch her. Not a second spent, would I miss these eyes and the mission that comes with them.”

And how true it all was. Because Sasuke had been literally blinded for a year after the war as he sat in a prison cell in Konoha with his eyes sealed and covered. But as he looked back on it now, it had been such a peaceful year, knowing that it was all out of his control and it was alright to do absolutely nothing for a year. And then she came. Every day, without fail. Just as his friend had attended his bedside in their youth, Sakura had come to visit him. She was only allowed forty minutes to check on him as a physician, and they didn’t talk much at first. But damn, if it didn’t quickly become the forty minutes of every day that he looked forward to. Now, he realized it might have been the only thing to carry his sanity out of that endless darkness.

If he were blind like Rugo, then maybe he could be present. His lack of power would make it so. The job of hunting down the Otsusuki race would fall onto someone else’s shoulders. And in exchange, maybe Sasuke could be there every day. Wake beside her every day. Touch, taste, fuck, and hear her tell him that she loved him over and over. Have children with her. Hold their tiny bodies against his chest as he whispered his own declaration of love to them. Every. Day. Even if he had to tolerate Naruto’s nonsense daily for the rest of his life, it would be worth it. He would be the better man, and leave the fallen Sasuke behind.

“Get up. Come to the Leaf. Live a simple life. And if you must be ambitious, fight with us to create a world of peace for the next generation.”

And as Rugo’s sightless eyes filled with tears, Sasuke felt a little more like Naruto. Because he meant those words.

“Took you long enough,” one of the men spat in Sakura’s direction as she stared down the twenty-seven individuals who were now looking back at her as an enemy; there was a narrowing of the eyes, a hesitation in their shoulders, and the erratic exchanging of nervous looks, that was not displayed back at the brothel when they merely thought she was an instrument of sex. In the span of a few days, she had taught them the mistake of underestimating someone.

They were gathered around a campfire, cooking some poor scrap of a thing they had managed to catch in these woods. They should consider themselves lucky that they hadn’t become the meals themselves here. If not for Katsuyu’s looming gargantuan presence nearby that warded away other predators, they undoubtedly would be. Many of them appeared haggard around the firelight and the dense tree coverage combined with the dimming sky already gave the appearance of night. Owls of monstrous size hooted in the distance, already eager for the night and the prey it would bring them. The members of Zenshin, in contrast, did not seem as keen. They sat huddled together as if in perpetual watch for whatever beast might pay them a visit tonight.

“I’m sorry,” Sakura smiled brightly despite their stabbing glares, “afraid of the dark, are we?”

There were murmurs of varying degrees of bitterness and disbelief. There were even some choice words Sakura ignored completely as she moved into their company. They were like wolves, snapping and growling as she got near them, and like wolves, a few of them decided to charge her.

The first man, the loudmouth of the group whose person Sakura had originally aimed for first back at the brothel, and then used his identity to fool his friends later, boldly sprinted in her direction. With murderous, bloodshot eyes and a gaping mouth, he brought his open hands together at the thumbs as if he meant to choke her, but Sakura quickly remedied his mistake. Her foot shot out, her monstrous strength sending him hurtling into the gigantic tree in their immediate proximity. There was a crunch and a splintering of wood, and Sakura felt more sorry for the tree than the man who would walk away fine after she healed him. Sakura couldn’t say the same for the poor, hollowed out tree. She winced, already prepared to apologize to Katsuyu for the violation of the sacred forest.

“Araki!” came a feminine screech as the man slid down from the tree like one of Katsuyu’s many slug divisions, and he crashed to the forest floor with a groan. Recognizing the voice who had called out to him, Sakura quickly identified the white-haired, Boil Release Kekkei Genkai ninja whom Sakura had battled with days ago. She stood from where she was sitting among the men next to the fire and she pointed an accusing finger at Sakura as she screamed, “You bitch! That wasn’t necessary!”

“Hello, again,” Sakura waved and the girl growled as she fisted both her palms with radiating fury. “Mind if I sit?” Sakura asked unbothered, before coming as close as she dared to the group, a body’s space away from the fire and sat crisscross as a large scroll materialized with a poof in the palm of her hand. She unfurled it, a white, encrypted document that served as a dividing line between them.

Staring back at their blank, confused expressions, Sakura got straight to the point. “This is the warrant for your individual arrests by both Sunagakure and Konoha as declared, signed, and sealed by the Fifth Kazekage and Seventh Hokage respectively. Each of you will receive a minimum of ten years in either correctional facility on the account of trespassing, kidnapping, attempted murder, or at the very least, illegal engagement in sexual acts for compensation.”

As she spoke, the outrage grew loud again but it fell on deaf ears as Sakura continued to read the document.

“However,” Sakura added with the snapping of the scroll as it tightly retracted back into form. “You will be given the choice of where to serve your sentences.”

The outrage quickly grew to silence as Sakura modified the original, documented warrant with her own condition.

“You can serve your various sentences back in Sunagakure, where the Kazekage eagerly awaits you. While serving your sentence, you will become potential new test subjects for the Kazekage’s new Mental Health clinic, and simultaneously perform excavation indentures to further create the sand dungeons you’ll be staying in.”

Their faces paled, so Sakura informed them of their second choice. “Or, you may return with me to Konoha where you’ll quickly be enrolled in the Mental Health clinic already established, perform community service, and also qualify for parole based on good behavior and reform. Those are your two options.”

And of course, there was always that wise guy who had to add: “And what makes you think we will go willingly to either?”

“You see,” Sakura smiled again, leaning back on her arms as if she were content to rest there. As if it were just another night around the warm campfire for Team 7 as they traveled for a mission. She gestured to the buzzing forest around them that grew darker by the minute. “Coming with me will be the only way to leave this place. You’re more than welcome to stay here and try to find your way out on your own. But I wouldn’t recommend it.”

They carefully considered her words after that. They exchanged petrified glances and shook their heads at one another.

“Perfect,” Sakura clapped her hands together in artificial delight, retrieving a separate scroll from thin air and an ink brush followed after, plopping onto the ground as it was summoned. Sakura unfurled this one too, a red blank document that she instantly divided down the center with the following two headings: “Konoha” and “Sunagakure.” She glanced over their shoulders to regard Araki first, who still lay unconscious in front of the tree he had been hurled ungracefully in to. She wrote down his name first and said to herself: “Araki, Konoha.”

“You can’t choose for him!” seethed the white-haired female who had returned to a seated position at some point, but still stared into Sakura’s person as if she could boil her alive just from staring at her. Sakura made a mental note to stay out of touching distance from her. This girl didn’t seem the type to retain information from the lessons others taught her.

“I can,” Sakura responded, “because he is going to need medical attention and will need to come with me in order to do that. Should I mark him under ‘Sunagakure,’ instead? If he lives from that, you can explain why you made that decision for him.”

The girl didn’t respond and so Sakura left it. “Ok then. Who else chooses Konoha?” There was a hesitation at first as no hands were raised. But a motion in the back caught Sakura’s attention. Not looking at her directly, a man sporting a familiar red, hooded cloak raised one of his mutilated and scarred hands. Sakura winced as she recognized the man who had attacked her, groping at her body before Sasuke ignited him with black flames.“Remember that I spared your life,” she had said to this man after interfering in Sasuke’s torture-attempt, and Sakura didn’t know if he raised his hand now because he felt indebted to her, needed further medical attention for his hands, or something else. But it didn’t matter, because like the first rain drop before the torrent of many, his hand was followed by the others.

Sakura placed a fake frown on her lips despite her internal relief. “Not a single person wants to attend Sunagakure? Gaara is going to be so disappointed.” And Kakashi, she thought to herself, when he realized he was about to gain twenty-seven new fugitives to care for. She could already imagine the Hokage’s slack jawed surprise when she showed up with them tomorrow.

Not a single voice responded, and Sakura grinned as she stood and dusted the forest floor from Sasuke’s oversized slacks. “Well, that’s settled then. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

“Morning?!” someone called out. “Why not now, before the sun sets?”

Sakura looked around as if she had only just noticed it was growing dark. The crickets of nighttime began to chirp, large amphibians exchanged mating calls, and some growling beast began its nightly prowl with a roar in the distance. “I think one more night will be good for you.” Just to remind them of their choices.

And with impeccable timing, something he always managed to seem to have, Sasuke emerged from the woods behind her. His red and purple eyes seemed to glow from the shadows as if he, too, were some nocturnal beast of the Shikkotsu Forest come to pay them a visit. He stalked forward like a panther until he stood beside her. Those who might have had anything to say grew wide-eyed and gasped at his arrival, not coming to recognize him even as he stared each of them down. His gaze flickered to the red-cloaked individual in the back whose hands he had decimated, and his eyes seemed to rest on him longer than the others.

“Did you find him?” Sakura asked the Uchiha and his eyes reluctantly slid to hers in the darkening woods. He dipped his chin in a silent nod before gesturing behind him with a tilt of his head. Slowly, as if moving at a much slower space, Rugo stepped out of the trees behind them. At his appearance, the voices around the campfire picked up once again and they mocked, belittling the man who had made promises of walking into the woods and not returning. One man even went as far as saying, “Should have been a man and gone through with it, Rugo. Mozai will kill you anyway—” but he stopped midsentence and began screaming. The rest of the group panicked, scattering like cockroaches away from the individual, trying to identify the source of his torment.

But as Sakura glance to her left and saw Sasuke’s Sharingan, she knew instantly that it was him, taking it upon himself to silence the man with a torturous genjutsu. After the screaming continued for longer than what made her comfortable, Sakura sent a pointed look to her teammate. The shrieking died after that, but Sasuke added for good measure, “Be quiet. All of you—before you piss me off.”

Rugo didn’t stop until he came within a few feet of Sakura, and even though she knew he couldn’t see her, he stopped and stared at her as if he could, as if by sheer will alone, he might be able to. Sakura held his unseeing eyes as she chewed her lip in thought about how she might be able to help him through this more, before he silently turned and headed back toward the fire, sitting alone and far away from the group. He looked morose, haggard, and was he barefoot?

“I’ll be right back,” she informed Sasuke who turned to follow her anyway. She thought of asking him to stay behind and keep watch over the group, but she thought better of it. She had informed them of their options. They were free to make a run for it…if they dared to.

“Where are you going?” came Sasuke’s peeved, clipped question once they were out of earshot. She rolled her eyes even as her medical mind whirred and calculated. Despite the gloom and perilous nature of The Shikkotsu Forest, it was also a goldmine, a plethora of hard-to-obtain plants and fauna that made Sakura’s eyes sparkle in delight. Now, some of these things were rather tricky to get your hands on, but it made them all the more tempting.

H. Perforatum, for example, a yellow-flowering shrub that grew tangled at the base of large trees, was highly sought after for its medical properties; Shikkotsu Forest supposedly had it in abundance but no one dared to face the Shikkotsu Forest just to get their hands on it. Unfortunately, the trees here also often oozed toxic, milky-white sap that blistered the skin on contact, which would make the extraction complicated. But Sakura didn’t tell Sasuke that as she circled several bushes like one of Kakashi’s scent hounds on the trail.

“I’m looking for a plant known to help with depression. I’d like to offer it to Rugo and see if it can be help to him.”

She didn’t see Sasuke’s blink of surprise, but she felt it in his silence. She knew he didn’t care enough about it to ask further. At least until she snatched her hand away from a tree just in time before a sizzling dewdrop of white fluid fell from a branch, narrowly missing her fingers. Sasuke frowned at her and she smiled innocently while moving on to the next tree.

“Leave it,” Sasuke said as he peered up at the trees with a newfound trepidation. “He’s fine now.”

But Sakura discounted his words, plowing on until she saw it: the blue-green leaves and the bright starshaped, yellow flower clusters that Sakura had been desperate to get her hands on since she formulated the plan of coming here. It would be revolutionary in its use with her Mental Health clinics. And as she bent to pluck them greedily, she glanced above her head to watch for falling sap, but was surprised to find the purple hand of Sasuke’s Susanoo stretched above her. He stood cross-armed and aloof beside her, acting as if he had little regard for her tasks, but Sakura smiled to herself as the arm of charka reached out from his body with the intent to protect her from searing drops overhead. Seeing him do so reminded her of simpler times during their Genin youth, when Sasuke’s attitude was abrasive, but his actions always spoke his true feelings.

“Was it his permanent vision loss that made him want to do it?” Sakura inquired as she loaded the pockets of Sasuke’s oversized pants with yellow flora. Katsuyu told me he was in danger of himself, and I couldn’t think of why else.” There were millions of Katsuyu divisions spread through the forest, keeping tabs on all of Sakura’s charges, and the slug who had come to transport Sasuke to Shikkotsu had told her of the situation after Sasuke had been swallowed.

“Hn.” Sasuke acknowledged as she shifted beside her and she nodded, understanding that Sasuke might not give any more details than that. Sakura wasn’t exactly sure what to expect from sending Sasuke, but she had hoped he would be able to handle the situation better than she might even though it was her expertise. Maybe it was an instinct, knowing that Sasuke might be the right person to talk to someone who had lost his vision. He had been able to convince him somehow, and for that she was grateful.

Sasuke surprised her again when he spoke lowly. “I’ve told him to come to the Leaf and he agreed.”

“They’ll all be coming to the Leaf,” she informed him, popping one of the yellow flowers into her mouth, tucking it into the inside of her cheek to ruminate. It was both simultaneously bitter and pleasant; sort of like drinking Black Tea. It would be better brewed like a tea, but chewing would have to suffice for now.

Sasuke raised an eyebrow at her words. “And we’ll be taking the slug express back to Konoha, how, again, if you’re here? You left that part out.”

“Lady Tsunade is waiting for the signal. She’ll perform the summoning that will take us all back to the Leaf.”

“Hmph,” he smirked, not being able to hide his regard for her ability to thoroughly plan something out to this extent in the span of twenty-four hours.

Sakura may have been a medic, but she was a ninja first. She wasn’t a mastermind strategist like Shikamaru, but she could hold a candle to many team leaders of her generation. A small pang of regret filled Sakura’s chest at the thought. She would never have a rookie team of her own to lead because she had dedicated her life to medical science.

Knowing that she wouldn’t get the chance once they returned to the watching eyes and glaring scowls of their group, Sakura daringly stood up on her tiptoes and kissed an unexpecting Sasuke chastely on the cheek, before turning to return to the campsite. At his reddening expression and clearing of his throat, Sakura smiled innocently, those hands coming to rest behind her back as she leaned forward and tilted her head, a habit leftover from girlish youth. And maybe she was interpreting things, but the Susanoo didn’t disappear from above her head until they were well away from the deadly trees, and to Sakura, it was all she needed in return to know that Sasuke was expressing his own form of love back.

In the dead of night, when the detainees had all passed into sleep, Sasuke kept his eyes trained on them, making sure that their heartbeats and cadence of breath signified genuine sleep. To his surprise, it seemed no one had any indication or plans to run. Not that he cared in particular, but it still didn’t ease his uncertainty. He wondered what Sakura had offered them to get them to go along with their sentencing. Regardless of their snoring and dream-filled twitching—which could easily alert prey to their presence; he didn’t know how they could even sleep knowing where they were—Sasuke didn’t trust them. Despite Sakura’s assurances, Sasuke still watched them as if he were the predator of their fears. Maybe that’s why they slept so soundly, knowing Sasuke was there to keep watch over them. Maybe it gave them some sort of security knowing that the man who protected the ambitions of their target-turned-jailer was there to ensure everything went according to the kunoichi’s design. Maybe, subconsciously, they knew Sakura cared about what happened to them at the very least, and as a result Sasuke was forced to as well. Perhaps it was the same factor that made them all choose to return to Konoha with her.

From a non-poisonous, outstretched branch, Sasuke watched two interactions initiated by Sakura on the ground below him. First, and expected, Sakura sought out Rugo, offering him the yellow flowers, explaining in whispers how to get the most out of the medicinal properties it offered. Saskue narrowed his eyes at the man, whom Sasuke still didn’t quite care for, as Sakura crouched before him and placed a supportive hand on his shoulder. He couldn’t hear her or read her lips with his Sharingan because her back was turned to him, but Sasuke saw that Rugo only nodded in response to everything she said and asked and kept his respectable distance. Smart choice on his part with Sasuke present.

Her second stop in the crowd below, however, had Sasuke leaning forward, his right eye glowing red as he made out the conversation below.

“Toka,” Sakura was saying, cross-armed as she stared down at the man who was reclined against a tree toward the back of the crowd. Sasuke recalled the stranger’s identity when she said his name, recalling the visions of the man clinging to the girl Sasuke had stolen the vision from. “We need to discuss something.”

“I don’t plan on discussing anything with you,” he sneered back at her, rolling his head back to the side to pretend to sleep against the tree roots.

“Tabi is pregnant,” Sakura deadpanned, and Sasuke could tell by her posture that she had adopted the professional voice of the physician. Toka’s eyes shot open with disbelief and his mouth went slack. Even Sasuke’s stomach dropped a bit at the abrasive announcement, suddenly feeling more empathy about the situation considering the context of his and Sakura’s conversation last night. No man would want to learn of his partner’s pregnancy right before facing a prison sentence.

When Toka recovered from the shock, he glanced nervously around at the others to see if anyone might have heard them. Sasuke could barely discern the furious whisper on Toka’s lips in response: “Why the fuck would you say that out loud in front of these people? You don’t understand the gravity of what you could have just done.”

“Does this mean you care about them, then? About Tabi and the baby?” she probed, unphased by his alarm. Sasuke wondered if Sakura did exactly what had triggered him just to assess his reaction.

“Why does it matter to you?” he asked angrily in a murmur, still trying to keep his words private between them.

Sakura turned her head in Sasuke’s direction unconsciously, and Sasuke’s eyes met hers, and she instantly looked away having realized what she’d done. And Sasuke frowned, because suddenly the conversation between his pink-haired teammate and the man sitting before her took on a new and uncomfortable context. Sasuke suddenly felt as if this were a personal topic for Sakura and she was asking from experience. As if she was hoping Toka would say yes, that he didcare. That he would do anything to go back to the mother of his child and make their family whole. To stop his foolish conquests and ambitions and be the man they needed him to be. Sasuke felt himself go rigid as he waited for Sakura’s response.

“Because Tabi told me you were different. I’m hoping that’s true.”

“I would only bring them heartbreak and pain. They’re better off without me.” Sasuke winced as the words that could have been his own landed directly as a blow to his chest.

And then Sasuke knew. He knew Toka was not the only intended recipient for her next words. “They’ll be in more pain to know you had a choice and your choice wasn’t them. All because you thought you knew best. Because you thought you didn’t deserve them.” It may have been Toka’s first time hearing such words, but for Sasuke, it was another echoing reminder.

He only stared at Sakura’s feet, and so she said, “I thought it might change your decision to come to Konoha. I’ve said that I won’t stop anyone from running if they want to risk the forest. Someone with a family waiting for them on the other side might just be brave enough to make it.” There was no response as she walked away from him, surveying the group one last time before making her way to the teammate she knew observed her every step from above.

And when she came to settle in the treetop beside him, Sasuke couldn’t meet her eye. For the longest minute of his life, he held his breath as her gaze settled on to him. Slowly and with fearful anticipation, Sasuke glanced at her to find that Sakura had merely propped her back against the trunk where the branch met the tree and had closed her eyes to sleep. Sasuke wanted to reach for her, tug her against his chest as he had last night in a different environment of darkness. He wanted to tell her that he was sorry. To tell her that she was his choice because he was hers. But a family…it couldn’t be his choice right now. Not when he knew what was coming for them. Sasuke’s choice would always have to be his mission, but he prayed to whatever sentient being looked down on them, that he would find the Otsusuki race, eradicate them quickly, and get back to his life with his wife.

Sasuke stared openly at her as she slept and he knew her decision to do so was to not force an uncomfortable conversation on him in the moment. Not after the trauma of the day. Not after witnessing a man attempt suicide and the conversation that followed, or from overhearing her discussion about families and choices with Toka. The day had been full of discomfort, and Sakura understood the Uchiha enough to know that now was not the time to have another. It was an indescribable mercy. And why she made a damn good doctor and rising therapist.

And with this realization, Sasuke wondered when, in Sakura’s eyes, he had become like a patient with his own mental health needs as well. When did she start seeing him as someone who needed to heal instead of someone she needed to heal from?

And Sasuke thought back to pools of acid and black flames that never stopped burning. And he thought of Sakura, the star in the sky of his darkness who still eternally burned for him despite everything. And Sasuke wondered when exactly he had started to answer that burn with a fire of his own. Even if he were galaxies away, he would burn eternally for her, like the black flames of Amaterasu.

#ssfanfiction #approachingsun #naruto fanfiction #sakura hiden #sakura haruno #sakura uchiha #naruto shippuden #approaching sun #naruto #sasusaku #sasusakufanfiction

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mildmayfoxe · 5 months ago

Note

big fan of your romance novel complaint posts (love to see a fellow hater living it up) but i’m also curious if there are any you would recommend? not looking for anything in particular, just would love to hear your thoughts as someone else with nitpicky reading habits and a taste for trash

ok hello. i left you hanging for a FULL week and for that i am sorry but i wanted to be able to have some time to sit down and type out a real answer to which the short version is YES of course there are several that i have enjoyed!! my disclaimer is that i almost solely read gay romance so if you are looking for lesbian or even straight reccs i don't have much for you (although i will put a couple at the end anyway). hopefully something in this list is interesting to you or at least interesting to someone else! links are mostly to goodreads. break bc i'm gonna write too much

-kj charles is one of my fave authors in this genre bc they're all pretty reliable and there's a ton of them. they're all historical fiction and usually there's at least one murder- she's good at keeping a plot going while developing a romance. often supernatural or magical elements. sometimes cults! i've read almost all of the books she's written and have enjoyed them all

-charlie adhara wrote a really incredible werewolf series that i loved, the first of which is the wolf at the door. this is one of the only series i've read which keeps the emotional stakes up through the whole thing & kept me interested in a relationship after it was established bc sooo many series get boring the second the leads get together. i actually read the first book of the spin-off series (a pack of lies) first which is technically possible but i don't recommend bc i was like "wow they're really throwing me in here. i love it" and then i read the first series and i was like "oh i was supposed to know all this stuff." but i actually liked the dynamic between that couple better and i'm suffering every day because the next one still doesn't come out til 2025 and i read it in 2022. also worth noting that this (the original series) is cops-ajacent (~federal special agents~) and one of the characters is really prejudiced at the beginning & imo doesn't have enough character growth before it's waved away but if you can ignore that it's really good. mysteries! werewolves!

-speaking of werewolves (i could suggest several but i'll keep it to two) tj klune's wolfsong ends up at the top of a lot of gay werewolf novel lists (i'm keeping tabs) and there's a good reason. i enjoyed it a lot. made me kind of sad which is always a good sign to me. the writing voice was very fresh and novel at first but i did find it a little grating by the end so i've put off starting the second book in the series (it's also about a different couple which was disappointing) but i will get around to it. i enjoy tj klune in general although his recent stuff has a very different vibe than this and lightning struck heart is very 2015 in a bad way imo

-bone rider by j fally is a standalone that really delighted me. the russian mob? aliens? vaguely western? possession? throuple? it's got it all. very fun

-ok speaking of westerns there's this other series called magic & steam (yes it's steampunk. sorry. it's very silly) that starts with the engineer. a federal agent is sent to a town to apprehend a ~madman engineer~ except he runs into an infamous outlaw in the process. and the outlaw is really sexy. and probably why i enjoyed the series so much. the series also keeps them apart a lot in a way that i enjoy- i love when things take a long time. it's ongoing so this is another one that i keep checking for updates on

-i've read a lot of stuff by nr walker and they tend to be VERY hit or miss for me but one of my faves is evolved which is almost pure smut. it's about a sex robot that gains sentience. what more do i need to say. she also wrote a three-book series about an amnesiac that made me cry cry cry. and her cowboy (australian rancher) series is pretty ok. i could go through a list and tell you which novels of hers aren't worth it and which ones are good; i've read most of them

-salt magic skin magic by lee welch was a big surprise to me. cool magic, good folklore, fairies in there too. historical. big kj charles vibes which makes sense bc she edited it. welch also wrote a book called seducing the sorcerer which i had more mixed feelings about but had magic in it that i think about OFTEN (the horses)- that one's about an imposing sorcerer and a rundown groom cum handyman. and they're in their FORTIES!!! 🥳🥳🥳 (i love when books are not about 23 year olds)

-another one with a magic system i enjoyed was magician by kl noone. this was the first book i read by this author and i liked it but generally i find their books are too "nice" for me. i'm in the middle of one right now that i started months and months ago that i keep trying to go back to and it's sooo rough for me. but this one and the twelfth enchantment are pretty ok

-emily tesh wrote a duology of silver in the wood and drowned country that i loved because i am suuuuch a sucker for a wild man/green man story. really good. haunting! evocative! kj charles has a green man story too which was actually the first thing i read of hers (spectred isle)

-i complained about the monsterfucker book i was reading a while back but despite that i will also recommend the series it's from: lily mayne's monstrous, which starts with soul eater. are they messy? yes. are they repetitive? yes. are the monsters usually disappointingly humanoid? yes. are a lot of them about the military? also yes. so we're starting off on a bad foot. but the world building is interesting and there's LOTS of kinds of monsters and most of them were pretty fun. the one i just read (#7) was the worst one of the bunch though imo. and i have problems with #6. but 1 2 and 5 were good

-ok i should do a quickfire round. honeytrap: about two enemy agents during the cold war. put it off for a long time bc i didn't love that but it takes place over a VERY long period of time which is always interesting to me. zero at the bone: about a hitman who needs to protect a witness to a mob hit. really strong start but fell off a bit in the middle to the end imo.

-you'll notice a lot of these have subgenres of like fantasy historical supernatural etc but here's some regular contemporaries. a lot of these are about sad guys bc those are my favorite. best laid plans: hardware store owner helps a guy fix his house. in the middle of somewhere: same author actually. guy moves to small town to work at a college. mr jingle bells: this is a christmas one. bad title. fake dating. part of the reason i think i liked it so much is because i expected it to be awful but it was actually pretty good. good emotional stakes. published 2021 but feels very 2014. ignore that part. work for it: i rated this five stars but actually don't remember much what it was like. i think they were both really sad which i love. give me big emotions and i eat them right up with a spoon. i should read it again

-OK now i've got some straight & lesbian options. talia hibbert's brown sisters series is good and cute. she also wrote work for it, above. the unhoneymooners is the first real Romance Novel that i read and it really surprised me because i had fun! previously i had kind of written off romance novels as not for me but this kicked off a reading habit that is still going strong (primarily reading romance novels). i read this in 2020 so it might not be as good as i remember. as for lesbian options olivia waite has a series that i enjoyed that's also historical, and a friend of mine really enjoyed delilah green doesn't care (but i haven't read that one myself). and while not really romances i will always be a sarah waters fan: you may recognize her as the author of fingersmith, which is the novel park chan-wook's movie the handmaiden is based on. if you haven't seen the movie or read the book i recommend both. her books are very dramatic lesbian historical fiction; they don't always have happy endings but they're all very good

ok i think that's the end! regular disclaimer that romance is generally not a genre notable for Good Writing so a lot of these are just things i had fun with or just stuck out in my memory for having fun conceits etc. i can't guarantee that any of these are actually good, especially because this is a list solely based on my own taste and bad memory. would love to hear anybody's thoughts and/or if anybody has recommendations for ME!!! this post took me over three hours to write! crazy!

#asks #dogda #ummm how should i tag this if i need to find it again #book reccs #book list #i have given a few of these to some of you as recommendations before! i love to talk about my stupid little romance novels #before you click on the readmore know that this is long

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littlequeenies · 3 months ago

Text

Pam and Jim visit Spain and Morocco, 1971

Jim Morrison arrived in Paris on March 11, 1971, where Pam was waiting for him. Pam forced him to visit the American Hospital in Neully. There he had a quick medical examination, including X-rays. He was told that his lungs were in bad shape because of cigarette smoking. He was advised to stop smoking and drinking immediately and to go to a warmer place so he could get better. Jim Morrison took advantage of the doctor's advice to fulfil his old dreams. He would visit Madrid, Granada and Tangier.

On April 10, 1971, Jim rented a Peugeot Sedan. With Pam, he took the road south. They spent the first night in Toulouse. Jim wanted to enjoy the architecture of the pink-coloured buildings in the French city. The next day they crossed the border with Spain through Andorra and slept in Barcelona.

One day later, on April 14, they arrived in Madrid and visited El Prado Museum. Jim had written poems and had described on several occasions the sensations that an incredible triptych painting by Hieronymus Bosch, El Bosco, provoked in him. Pam told the anecdote that Morrison spent more than an hour, as if hypnotized, in front of "The Garden of Earthly Delights", filmed by Pam herself on the Super-8 camera that Jim had brought from Los Angeles.

Jim and Pam arrived in Granada on April 16. They wanted to see the rooms where Washington Irving had written his "Tales of the Alhambra", a book that was always a dream for the Doors singer. He liked mysteries and the dazzling Nasrid world of the 15th century. The neighbours say that he went from the city centre to the monument for three days straight and that, sitting on one of the benches in the Generalife gardens, he wrote a beautiful poem that, apparently, has disappeared. Nor is it easy to find the Super-8 film that he and Pam recorded there, in front of the Patio de los Leones. In any case, the Arab enchantment did not disappoint a young man who was accustomed to LSD and hallucinogenic experimentation.

Bill (billr2375 on youtube) recalls:

Jim and Pam followed our High School Spanish Club on a visit to LA ALHAMBRA-GRANADA, Museum in Spain. We didn't figure it out at the time but later realized they were the "two American hippies" listening in on our English version of the Museum Tour. Can read about his visit to that museum on that date in a book about Jim. They were very cool--would nod to us, but kept their distance as they followed us on the Tour. He had a beard at that time, she was beautiful. They were clearly in love with each other. Giggling and holding hands and enjoying that we didn't recognize them. (source)

Morrison's visit to the Alhambra was immortalised in the famous Super-8 film. Jim appears in front of the lions, the famous lions in the Alhambra Courtyard. In the film, the singer can be seen against the backdrop of the fountain, with his arms clasped to his chest and a smile. He slowly approaches the camera lens. Pam told months later that this film was the one Jim watched on the night of his death, while listening to the song 'The End' by the Doors.

Jim and Pam spent four days exploring some of the corners of a Granada that was, more than ever, an exotic place for two inhabitants of hippie California. Some people from Granada said that they stayed at the Alhambra Palace. Others, that they actually spent the night at home of some Australian colleagues. Rafael Cuéllar was one of those who recounted that visit and defended this last hypothesis. He also told an anecdote that is not without its macabre character:

In a place called La Zíngara, Morrison asked them to play a song by the already deceased Janis Joplin. “You are drinking with number three,” he said to all those who approached him, alluding not only to Joplin’s death, but also to that of Jimi Hendrix. The fatal premonition would end up coming true.

After four days, the couple headed to Gibraltar. There, they had to 'let go' of their Peugeot, because the insurance did not cover their stay in Morocco. When they arrived in Tangier, they stayed at the famous Minzeh hotel, where Paul Bowles sat every afternoon. But they had been invited by Paul and Talitha Getty, in their winter palace.

Pam also remembers that at the old market, Jim bought a French version of Paul Bowles' 'The Sheltering Sky' from the Colonnes bookstore on the Pasteur avenue in Tangier. Jim was obsessed with the relationship between Paul Bowles and his wife Jane.

Jim and Pam flew to Marrakech, which was all the rage because of the hit song by Crosby, Stills and Nash. There, they stayed at the Ville Taylor, the mansion that the Count of Breuteuil and his mother owned on the outskirts of the city. On May 3, 1971, just two months before his death, Jim and Pam flew from Marrakech to Casablanca and from there to Paris. Heading to his end. Jim Morrison had shaved one night when he bathed in the moonlight at the Marrakech hotel, the only one with a swimming pool in those days.

SOURCES

Josa y sus cuentos

Vanitatis

NOTE:

Just after their Spanish/Moroccan trip/holiday, Pam and Jim travelled to Corsica and stayed there for 10 days, the exact date is unknown, but here you have more information about their trip.

#Pam Courson #Pamela Courson #Jim Morrison #1971 Pam #Super 8 #Super 8 films #home movies #model #muse #boutique owner #fashion designer #baby sitter #editor

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lucky-clover-gazette · 5 months ago

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captive prince book 1 highlights & annotations

chapter 7

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

Seeing no reason whatsoever to cooperate with that order, Damen stood up.

very much a “damen is not a slave” moment. this is the opposite of what they’ve been trained to do.

‘You are really courting danger tonight,’ Laurent said. ‘Am I? I thought I was appealing to your better nature. Order whatever punishment you like, from the coward’s distance of a chain-length. You and Govart are two of a kind.’

yessss, question his integrity! i love that they both get really pissed off when they’re implied to be bad people, but only by each other. it’s like they’ve mutually identified each other as their own personal moral arbiters, and couldn’t stop caring even if they tried.

Laurent transferred his gaze back to Damen and said, pleasantly, ‘Does that bother you? I recall you being free with your own hands, not so very long ago.’ ‘That was—’ Damen flushed. He wanted to deny that he’d done anything of the kind, but he remembered rather unequivocally that he had.

called out for enjoying the bath scene a little too much

‘I promise you, Govart did a great deal more than simply enjoy the view.’

vine boom so you WERE enjoying the view

‘To a slave,’ Laurent said. ‘The Prince’s Guard doesn’t interfere with the Regency. Govart can stick his cock into anything of my uncle’s he likes.’ Damen made a sound of disgust. ‘With your blessing?’ ‘Why not?’ said Laurent. His voice was honeyed. ‘He certainly had my blessing to fuck you, but it turned out he’d rather take a blow to the head. Disappointing, but I can’t fault his taste. Then again, maybe if you’d spread in the ring, Govart wouldn’t have been so hot to get inside your friend.’

context of what laurent is implying here (not what’s actually true): this is not laurent’s command or responsibility, but the regent’s. and it’s somehow damen’s fault that this happened to erasmus, because he didn’t let govart take him instead, which is what laurent had intended to happen. massive laurent ethical L on both counts. do better.

Damen said, ‘This isn’t a scheme of your uncle’s. I don’t take orders from men like Govart. You’re wrong.’ ‘Wrong,’ said Laurent. ‘How lucky I am to have servants to point out my shortcomings. What makes you think I will tolerate any of this, even if I believed what you are saying to be true?’ ‘Because you can end this conversation any time you like.’

damen won this interaction! called out laurent for clearly giving a shit, because he’s still talking!

also, craft note: great back-and-forth throughout this entire exchange

With so much at stake, Damen was sick of certain kinds of exchanges; the kind Laurent favoured, and enjoyed, and was good at. Wordplay for its own sake; words that built traps. None of it meant anything.

i have several hundred annotations that suggest otherwise

‘When someone doesn’t like you very much, it isn’t a good idea to let them know that you care about something,’ said Laurent.

context: nicaise :( and horse :( and a lot of things :(

break the cycle of abuse laurent i know you can do it

‘Would it hurt worse than a lashing for me to cut down someone you care for?’ said Laurent.

context: laurent knows, from experience, that the answer is yes

‘I don’t think I need to bring in more men,’ said Laurent. ‘I think all I have to do is tell you to kneel, and you’ll do it. Without me lifting a finger to help anyone.’ ‘You’re right,’ said Damen. ‘I can end this any time I like?’ said Laurent. ‘I haven’t even begun.’

damen won the confrontation morally, and they both know it. laurent won in practice by being intentionally immoral, and instead reminding damen that he has been given power over him that he can abuse. this is exactly what the regent has done to laurent, over and over again. sad.

Laurent said, ‘There is no bargain between us. A prince does not make deals with slaves and insects. Your promises are worth less to me than dirt. Do you understand me?’ ‘Perfectly,’ said Damen.

translation: “you win.” “i know.”

Damen rethought that particular approach. He turned over the information he’d just been given. Re-examined it. Turned it over again. ‘What changed your mind?’ Damen said, carefully.

context: maybe i’m too optimistic, but i think it’s genuinely an ethical decision on laurent’s part. there’s a strategic purpose in here, too, but that’s more of a convenience. laurent knew he was wrong, and might have even connected himself to his uncle and disliked the similarity. he doesn’t act smug when he’s doing something he doesn’t want to do, but he knows he should do this. that’s why he’s pissed at damen, but not playful about it at all. so i do think this was ultimately a “laurent was called on his bullshit, and has too much integrity not to act based on that callout” thing.

‘I’m not sure that I believe anything that you’ve just told me,’ Damen said. ‘Do you have a choice?’ ‘No.’

silver lining for laurent: re-asserts his own power and moral high ground by helping damen, instead of threatening him in a way they both know is fucked up

He has experienced things many adults have not, and his mind is no longer that of a child.

laurent would know :(

‘Is there anyone at this court who isn’t my enemy?’ ‘Not if I can help it,’ Laurent said.

okay this is just him being mean. it’s his enrichment

‘So he’s tame,’ said Estienne, and reached out tentatively, as though to pat a wild animal. It was a question of which part of the animal he was patting. Damen knocked his hand away. Estienne gave a yelp and snatched his hand back, nursing it against his chest. ‘Not that tame,’ said Laurent. He didn’t reprimand Damen. He didn’t seem particularly displeased with barbaric behaviour, as long as it was directed outward. Like a man who enjoys owning an animal who will rake others with its claws but eat peacefully from his own hand, he was giving his pet a great deal of license.

they’re insane

As a result, courtiers kept one eye on Damen, giving him a wide berth. Laurent used that to his advantage, using the propensity of courtiers to fall back in reaction to Damen’s presence as a means of extricating himself smoothly from conversation. The third time this happened Damen said, ‘Shall I make a face at the ones you don’t like, or is it enough to just look like a barbarian?’ ‘Shut up,’ said Laurent, calmly.

emotional collapse animal to keep people from annoying laurent. love the banter here. damen knows that’s exactly what’s happening, and laurent is annoyed that he knows, because it makes him seem like an antisocial loser, which he is

Torveld was a handsome man in his forties

ew. leave laurent alone. he’s like half your age and he has specific trauma that makes this particularly uncomfortable

He reconciled himself to an evening of listening to Laurent lying a great deal, about everything. Laurent was a nest of scorpions in the body of one person. To hear that Akielos was weakened was as painful as Laurent must have meant it to be.

context: not entirely sold on the idea that laurent is having this conversation about akielos specifically to upset damen, but i get why damen feels that way

‘I wish we had more time together,’ said Torveld, showing no inclination to rise.

GET A JOB. STAY AWAY FROM HER

‘Nephew. You were not invited to these discussions.’ ‘And yet, here I am. It’s very irritating, isn’t it?’ said Laurent. ‘You’ve never applied yourself seriously to anything in your life.’ ‘Haven’t I? Well, then it’s nothing serious, uncle. You have no cause to worry.’

laurent applies himself seriously to most, if not all, of the things he chooses to do. regent just dislikes that laurent has a choice and uses it.

#capri #captive prince #sam reads capri #damen of akielos #laurent of vere #getting the rest of these out tonight!#they've been done for days #i'll be glad if anyone enjoys them but i also want to move on to the next book!

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damagedintellect · 1 year ago

Text

Dazai Osamu x reader

💌 Reading into the palms of isekai bullshit:

Chapter 3 💌

Summary: You were no stranger to isekai bullshit. It’s not like you had a problem with it. The genre took over the anime scene for years now but you try to stay away from thinking about how you would handle the situation. The last time you thought about inserting yourself into your favorite show you wrote a 100k word xReader fic for your favorite characters and you didn’t want to spend all your time consumed by the brainrot again. Never again, you promised yourself that was the last time you’d let the devil on your shoulder win. You clicked on chapter 1 to start the adventure over again but when you opened your eyes and saw Dazai O-FUCKING-samu getting choked by Kunikida you honestly hoped it was a dream.

Notes: Another isekai so I can play around with BSD like dolls.

💌 Word count: 2,981 💌 <= Previous Chapter | Next Chapter =>

Aside from the raid on the agency and fearing being shot to death the next few days turned out okay. You had a few scraps on your arms and legs from the broken glass but other than that you were right as rain. While Atsushi was going with Ranpo, Kunikida wanted you to stay behind to help reorganize the files with him.

"I wanted you to stay behind because tomorrow you're going to escort Ranpo to Kyushu." He took another file from the stack you were holding. "You still have amnesia but it's clear your talent for palm reading could be useful for detective work. It's not Ranpo's ultra deduction but he should be able to help you get a better grasp of it."

You stiffened. You hadn’t thought of that. The next few days they would be handling the Azure Messenger. Which was a mess you'd gladly skip out on but the anime didn't follow Ranpo to Kyushu and you don't recall reading about it either. You'd have no idea what was going to happen. This isn't good but you can't refuse the order. Realistically it was sound logic but you were going to disappoint Ranpo with your clear lack of talent. Oh boy. You were dreading the experience. On the plus side with you gone Dazai could still offer his space to Sasaki and by the time you guys got back you’d finally have your own humble abode.

By train it would take several hours to make it to Kyushu from Yokohama. You were not looking forward to such a long journey especially with Ranpo. Sure enough it was only three minutes into the first train when the other announced that they were bored. “Well, did you bring a book or something?” you asked hoping he had the foresight to plan his own entertainment.

“I did but it was boring. It’s no fun when you can already guess the ending. They made it so obvious too.” he was flailing his arms before he settled to look out the window unamused and slightly irritated. You sighed, you brought a book too or well Dazai handed you a book. “The Complete Guide to Suicide.” You didn’t want to read it, not because the subject matter wasn't interesting, you just would rather not know but you were curious about Ranpo’s book. The moment you tried to grab for it he turned to you “It’s the sister, she lied about her condition and wasn’t even at the hospital. She and the doctor were in cahoots.”

You frowned “You know that’s not going to stop me from reading it right?” He rolled his eyes, pulling it just out of reach. “I know, how about you entertain me!” his smile sparkled with intrigue

You raised an eyebrow “What you want me to tell you a story?” That wouldn't be so bad if you could just talk about another of your favorite anime. What were the odds they existed in this reality? Ranpo hummed “Not exactly. I want you to read my palm.” he practically shoved his hands in your face. “Well what do you want to know?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know, what can you tell me?” He seemed genuinely curious. Kunikida must have told him about your “talents” otherwise he probably wouldn’t have bothered. You grabbed his hands scanning over them before saying “Originally you’re not from Yokohama but you did go to the Yokohama Police Academy until you were kicked out because you exposed the warden. You met Fukuzawa by chance while you went to pick up your work permit. He was the one who gave you your glasses.” You paused to look up at Ranpo. Shockingly he opened his eyes to stare at you. He didn’t look off put nor did he look surprised but there was this secret third thing you couldn't place. You continued as you matched his eye contact “You don’t need the glasses to activate your ability but it does make it easier for you to shut it off should I go on?” You were not sure how much more you could say at this point. With the way he was looking at you you might have said too much already.

“You don’t actually read palms.”

Shit, he saw through you.

Hesitantly you laughed “What makes you say that?” your stomach drops when he tears away a thin layer of skin from his palms, it was a prosthetic. He came prepared. “Because it wasn’t my palm you were reading. So how did you know that?” Ranpo doesn’t move to pull out his glasses nor does his expression change but he continues to stare at you. A bead of sweat drops down the side of your face. Ranpo saw right through you from the beginning. WHAT DO YOU DO!? How did he know?

“I found it weird that Dazai wanted me to mask my hands. He had made a copy of his palm a few days ago saying he wanted to test your talent again. Kunikida said that when you first met you were able to read Dazai’s palm, with that being the case it confirmed it wasn’t a special ability.” He discarded the fake skin, throwing it into his bag. When he turned back to you he seemed perplexed with the new information. “If you actually read palms you should have recognized it was Dazai’s immediately. Instead you gave me information about myself that only one other person would know.”

You sighed cat’s out of the bag you guessed. Should you just come clean or wait to see what Ranpo speculates? You sighed just when you thought things were going smoothly. “I should have expected as much from Dazai and here I thought we were finally getting along.” You shifted awkwardly in your seat to face Ranpo more. You were about to tell him when his eyes widened suddenly almost like a realization hit him. “You’re not from here,” he trailed off, finally closing his eyes “(Hometown name), right? But how did you end up here?” He relaxed back into his chair. You wonder how he figured it out but you wouldn’t doubt it had to do with the state you were in that night at the warehouse. “I wish I knew. The last thing I remember was falling asleep reading my favorite manga and then I woke up in the river. To be completely honest I thought this was a dream so I thought it would be funny to mess with Dazai a little.” you scoffed at yourself “Really stupid idea thinking back on it, but you know,” there was no way this was going to work. You had another stupid idea. “Since you’re the only one who knows if you ever wanted to mess with Dazai this would be the perfect opportunity to finally pull one over on him. Obviously the choice is yours but I’m just saying there would be no way for him to figure it out on his own.” You watched as a devilish grin formed on his face.

“I’m listening.”

“If you keep my little secret I’ll answer any questions you have plus be your snack gofer for a week. Oh and get you all the shiny marbles you desire.” This entire venture was hinging on the fact that Ranpo loved snacks. You only assumed it would be amusing to watch Dazai fumble about his original accusation. Dazai was never wrong and you knew that was one of the reasons Ranpo doesn’t like playing chess with him. So you figure it would be fun to watch Dazai have to reconsider his approach and strategy to gain intel on you. Watching Ranpo mull around the idea was a good sign. It meant that he was at least interested. In which part you didn’t bother asking.

“Eh, good enough for me!” He reached his hand out for you guys to shake on it. “So how’d you know about all that?”

You smiled “Oh the Armed Detective Agency is a part of my favorite manga” Before he could ask you added “Yes, you are my favorite character. How could I not love the world's greatest detective.” He seemed pleased with himself as he dug out some snacks from his bag. He started munching on some chips not even bothering to finish the ones in his mouth as he asked “So then you know what happens already, isn’t that boring for you?”

You hummed “Not really, the story didn’t follow you to Kyushu so this is all new for me. Oh but Kunikida and Dazai will call you in a few days to ask for help solving their case. Which is completely different from what happens in the light novel but I’ll spare you the details.”

“Interesting, so then you already know what they're going to ask and how to solve their case.”

“Technically yes, but I’m not sure how much of my actions will alter events in the future so I’d rather not say anything until the time comes.”

“Let me get this straight, you already know what’s going to happen and you’re just going to watch everything play out as it should, that’s so lame. How boring.”

You let Ranpo roast you for your decisions to stay out of the plot. At one point he scoffed at you saying that it was no wonder even though he ruined the book’s ending you still wouldn’t mind reading it. Eventually he started playing a new game where he would try to guess events that happen in the future but you didn’t tell them when they would take place. You also weren’t entirely telling the truth about some of them either but it was not like he was guessing important plot things. It was mostly ridiculous things, like side story tidbits that would happen in “Bungo Stray Dogs Wan” This seemed to keep him entertained for a while but eventually he got bored of that too. Luckily you arrived at the station before he could come up with another game. Although he put you to work immediately wanting you to fetch him more snacks and ramune. You almost regret making the offer.

In the end it would all be worth it to keep your cover with Dazai. On the next train Ranpo was too enthralled with his sugar haul to pay attention to you so your mind wandered to a certain waste of bandages. You had taken out a notepad to scribble and doodle on to pass the time. You lied to Ranpo earlier about him being your favorite character. It was Dazai. You might be a little too into liking the stupid brunette but honestly you just wanted him to be happy, to finally feel loved without thinking he doesn’t deserve it. You must have had a dreamy look on your face or something because Ranpo looked at you with disgust. “Don’t tell me you have a crush on Dazai, that’s just gross.”

You tilted your head at him “Huh?” He pointed at what you were drawing. You had drawn a collection of chibi Dazai’s all over the page. Oops you didn’t realize what you were doing. “Oh yeah, ew gross.” You tear the page out and crumple it up. Throwing it away at the first opportunity to destroy the evidence.

He laughed at your actions but didn't say anything else. When you finally arrived in Kyushu they had an escort waiting for you. Apparently your client had set up accommodations for you both. You were going to meet with them tomorrow once you’ve had time to settle overnight. During the brief you weren’t much help as expected and once Ranpo got started the most he needed you for was to fetch him refreshments as he looked over evidence. It didn't take that long to crack the case but the amount of paperwork that needed to be done was insane. All because he was from outside of Kyushu. No wonder it took three days total to finish up here. Two days were just traveling and one day of mostly paperwork.

Just like you predicted on your last day when you and Ranpo were walking around he got the call from the others. He didn't bother asking you anything assuming your passive view on the situation means you wouldn’t help but you also think it was a matter of pride. He rolled his eyes at you because he had to do all the work and maybe that’s what it really came down too. He made you get more snacks than you could carry making you more of a pack mule than a gofer. When you finally got on the train he made sure to give you an earful that he'd let it slide this time but as your superior if you knew what happened next you were to report to him about it so he doesn't have to lift a finger. You're actually not sure how serious he was about the demand. All in all it was a successful mission. It was getting late by the time you made it back to Yokohama but you still checked back in at the agency to be updated on what went down when you were gone. Not like you didn’t already know but it was nice to be kept in the loop.

Making your way back to the dorms you realized that no one gave you the keys to your room. It should be ready by now. You assumed it's because Dazai was holding them hostage. At least since no one mentioned it you figured as much. They think you two were very close it seemed or knowing Dazai he probably outright asked to do the honors. You moved to knock on his door but the moment you did it swung open. He was standing there jingling the keys in front of you. A satisfied grin plastered on his face. "My darling (Y/N), what a pleasant surprise! Could you perhaps be looking for these?"

You rolled your eyes trying to grab for the keys but he pulled them away before you could touch them. “Yes, yes very funny but I’m not in the mood to play right now. I had to entertain Ranpo for several hours and would like to get some sleep.”

He smirked knowingly, "Hmm funny you should mention Ranpo, I ran into him earlier! I don't know, maybe care to explain this?" He held up a wrinkled sheet of paper. It was the one you drew all over on the train. Goddamnit Ranpo, why? "I thought I threw that away." You could practically hear Ranpo's smug tone saying,

"I said I'd keep your secret but I never said which one."

That bastard probably went through the trash to have this blackmail. This was probably payback for making him do all the work, but he said he’d let it slide. You've been played. You needed to think of something quick "I mean to be fair I drew everyone but I had a hard time getting you to look right, like what is even going on with your hair. I bet it'd be easier drawing the slug’s weird ass hairstyle."

He shifted his weight back on to his other foot. "Is that so, then you won't mind if I keep this?" It seems bringing up Chuuya to change the subject wouldn't work a second time. Oh well, it was worth a shot.

"I already threw it in the trash. Be my guest." You grabbed the keys from him checking what number your room could be found at. Just before you left you pivoted to look at him "Oh one more thing. What did you plan to accomplish with that little stunt of yours?" Obviously it was a big question on your mind. Now that you didn’t get the inner monologues or the outsiders view you have no idea what the other could possibly be thinking.

"That was just to keep you on your toes my little belladonna~"

You huffed “I sincerely doubt that. Why would you go through all that trouble?”

“Aw, and here I thought you trusted me?” He dramatically clutched at his chest with a soft whimper as you laughed at his antics. “I can trust you implicitly but still question your motives. It’s not like I pledged my blind loyalty to you like some kind of a dog.” You were about to leave for real when you realized what episode you should be around. “Oh that reminds me, you plan on going out later right? You should say hi to your cute dog for me.” He narrowed his eyes with a slight frown “So you can see the future.” his tone went flat causing you to smile.

“Fortune telling is not an exact science but sometimes it’s used to predict the future, yes. The least I could do is try to keep up with you, my little white snake.”

You could hear Dazai stifle a laugh as you started walking away. It was proof that he got your joke. At least you were hoping that it was because he got your joke. You really tried but there wasn’t a lot of clever word play at your disposal. There was a plethora of double entendres for feminine but not a lot for masculine pronouns and you weren’t about to say the scientific name for white snakeroot, “Ageratina altissima” because it’s one hell of a mouth full. Essentially it meant something akin to “The unaging tallest” not as flattering as “beautiful lady” but it was still a poisonous plant and human descriptor so it was close enough to say you tried to put in the effort. Part of you thinks it was better than giving him any real compliment. You feel like Dazai likes the ambiguity that comes with the chase. So why not play the game?

#the BSD isekai au that no one asked for #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #bsd x reader #bsd imagines

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mastermindmiko · 1 year ago

Text

Rivals

Pairing: James Potter + reader

word count: 2903 (this was actually supposed to be 1k or less, but ig more for you guys)

Summary: You and James are Quidditch rivals. You're Quidditch captain and he's Quidditch captain, it only makes sense, right? But what if there's maybe something else fueling your hatred?

Warnings: Injuries and kissing. Lmk if there's anything else

I wrote this all in one go, 1:30 am so if there's any mistakes please don't mind them, and lmk.

Hey! if you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist.

"Hey, Diggory! watch out!" I scream as loudly as I can over the shouts of the crowds, while Amos barely registers my warning before he notices a bludger flying his way. His eyes widen and its only a second before he gets knocked off his broom and down to the ground hurtling at a great speed, with how fast he was going no one was going to be able to catch him.

I hear him thud to the ground and I hear madam Hootch call a time out while I zoom to reach him. I throw my broom to ground and drop to my knees. Amos is moaning on the ground in pain. He's got a hand over his chest, and I can only assume that he has at least a few broken ribs.

Several other players are coming off their brooms to check on the injured player. The rest of my teammates, the Hufflepuff team, come down and fuss over Amos. Madam Promfrey enters the field and shoos everyone from around him. I look around and I notice the person who was the cause of all of this.

"What the hell, Jordan?" I shout and the Gryffindor, who's looking guiltily at Amos while a few of my teammates help lift him up. Jordan opens his mouth to reply, but gets interrupted when someone steps in front of him to reply instead, "Calm down, Y/L/N. That's just the way the game works."

"Shut up, Potter." I say, then turning to madam Hootch, "That's an obvious foul, he's not allowed to do that." madam Hootch doesn't get to say anything before, once again Potter interrupts. I swear to Merlin that boy has no manners. He says, "It's not a foul, that's just the game, and if you don't think you can handle it then just quit."

"Why would I quit when I'm the best damn chaser in this school?"

"You're obviously more of an idiot than I thought you were if you think that you're the best chaser." Potter folds his arms and he looks at me with a smirk, the most annoying one I've ever seen in my whole life, if I might add. I lunge at him, but Amelia holds me back.

Potter only smirks more, and I narrow my eyes at him trying not to scowl. I turn back to whisper something to Smith, my team's beater, "Aim for Potter."

"There will be no aiming for anyone, miss Y/L/N. The match will not be continuing." madam Hootch announces, and my mouth drops at the news and I hear Potter gasp. I ask, "Why not?"

I heard another voice saying the words with me, so I turn to Potter to give him a glare. He only gives me a glare back before we turn to madam Hootch. She sighs, "There are only half the players there are supposed to be in the field. Half of each of you're teams are injured. We'll reschedule the game."

I huff, and madam Hootch puts her wand to her throat to announce the news to the crowds, they all groan in disappointment and start clearing out. I grab my broom from the ground and start marching back into the castle on my way to the hospital wing.

What's left of my team follow me to wing to check up on the rest of the team. Amos has already been put on the bed, and madam Pomfrey is pacing around the room going from one injured Quidditch player to another. I head over to Amos, and ask, "Are you okay?"

"I've been better." He groans, as madam Pomfrey hands him a glass of Skelegro. She tuts as Amos gags on the drink, and she frowns. I cautiously ask, "So, what's the damage?"

"You're not going to be able to play for a month." She says, and I gasp. She continues, "For the past year, every time there's a Hufflepuff and Gryffindor match most of the players end up here with me. Now, I'd expect this behavior from Gryffindors, but you, wouldn't have guessed in a million years."

I feel the guilt starting to fill me. I did push the players to take risks, but I never expected this to go this far. Amos finishes the cup and he nearly gags again before madam Pomfrey shoots him a glare. He says, "Maybe it's time, for the sake of team of course, that you forgive him..."

"No, absolutely not. It's one thing to toy with the team when it comes to Quidditch, but it's another when he manipulates my feelings into doing so." I say, and I head over the other players. I'm checking on Boot's broken leg when I hear the sound of it, the sound of his stupid strutting.

He goes to survey his team and no doubt madam Pomfrey is telling him about the whole not playing for a month thing because I hear his loud gasp from all the way across the hospital wing. I roll my eyes, and Boot gives me a look. I mumble, "Shut up, Boot."

He lifts his arms up, surrendering and then I feel an arm wrap around my shoulder. I already know who it is, having done this three times already. I shove his arms off me and he pouts, "What's wrong, love? We're off the pitch, shouldn't we put our claws away?"

"Leave, Potter." I say, irritated obviously, and Amos opens his curtain from beside his bed so he's able to see the interaction. Corner does the same thing from the other side of Boot's bed, and despite the look I give to both of them, they keep watching. Potter says, "Why would I do that when you're here?"

His friends, Lupin and Black enter the hospital wing and he lifts up a finger to me, signaling that he'll be back before he goes off to them. I fold my arms over my chest, and I see Boot looking at me. I huff, "What?"

"I heard he just asked her out to make Amos jealous." Boot says, and Amos flushes. This morning, Potter asked out Evans in front of the Great Hall. Half of Hogwarts' population were looking at her for the reply while the other half was looking at me for a reaction. I pretended like nothing of interest was happening, but Amelia already had a supportive hand on my leg. She said yes, and they'll be going out tomorrow.

"Why would I care about that piece of information? You should be taking to Amos he's the one who's got his crush going out on a date." I say, avoiding my teammates' eyes. Boot replies, "Yes, but your crush is the one that asked her out."

"I don't know what you're talking about." I reply and I feel like I've had enough. I did know what he was talking about. Last year, the day before we left for summer break, I spilled about my crush on Potter to Amelia and the girl can't keep her mouth shut for two seconds, shouted it back out loud in the Great Hall. I thought that everyone would forget by the time that we went back to school last september, and almost everyone did.

However, only two days before Quidditch season started, Potter himself, asked me out. I couldn't believe it at first, knowing how much he used to babble on about Evans all the time. Then out of the corner of my eye, I notice a few certain people from the Gryffindor table looking at us eagerly, I recognize those few people as the Quidditch team. Of course, I said no, but I couldn't say that I wasn't hurt.

Croner's injury was in his shoulder and since he could eavesdrop on us so easily I'd assume that it's fine by now. I head out of the hospital wing, and back to my dorm for a shower.

~~~

Without Quidditch practice, I realize that I have a lot more time on my hands. It made me realize how much I suck at my regular subjects. I wasn't planning on using them anyway, I wanted to be a professional Quidditch player, so acing charms wasn't really on my agenda. I had a quiz tomorrow and when I finally lost hope of passing, I went to my favorite place, the kitchens.

The elves were always so nice and eager to please. The place was just a few steps away from my common room which meant that I could go whenever I want and not having to worry about getting caught by any Prefects.

I was eating a muffin while doodling some plays that might be beneficial for when we get back to playing. The door opens and Wigby rushes to greet whoever came. To my displeasure, Potter enters. He beams when he sees me, and I groan at his horribly disguised acting, as if he'd want to actually see me without an ulterior motive.

"What you've got there?" he asks, looking down at my paper, and I flip it over quickly, remembering that these are the team's plays. I huff, "None of your business, and what are you doing here anyways, it's after curfew."

"I could ask you the same thing." He says, and I roll my eyes when he hops on the counter beside me. I look away from him, but I can feel his gaze burning the side of my neck. He asks, "What would you recommend? You seem to be here a lot."

"I recommend you getting out." I say, and he chuckles at my reply though I don't get what's funny. Wigby comes to me and asks, "Do you need another muffin miss?"

"Yes Wigby that would be great." I smile and she turns to Potter and he says, "I'll have one of the muffins that she's having."

"Shouldn't you go to bed? You must be tired" I say before I can stop myself, as soon as Wigby leaves. He looks confused, and he scrunches up his face the way he always does when he's confused, it's the look he has all throughout potions. He asks, "Why would I be tired?"

"Because you had a date this morning." I reply like it's obvious and finally look at him. He chuckles and then shakes his head. Wigby hands over the muffins in a plate and he grabs one before saying, "Oh no, I didn't. Lily just wanted me to ask her out to make Diggory jealous."

So Boot was right, he's always the one who has all the gossip. I grab a bite swallow slowly, and then say, "Oh, well, I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"Because you like her, it mustn't feel good to help her get another guy." I explain and I look away from him. He gulps down the rest of the muffin and I wonder how he can eat so fast. He clears his throat, "Lily? No, I don't like her, not anymore. I was just trying to get back in her good graces after last year..."

He trails off and I already know what he's talking about. At the end of fifth year, Potter, Black, Lupin and Snape got into a big fight, and Lily got caught in the crossfire. It's all everyone talked about for days.

I don't say anything because I don't know what to say. There's a silence between us that I can't pinpoint if it's heavy or comfortable. He shuffles beside me, before he asks, "Now that we won't be playing for a while, would you like to go out with me?"

My blood goes cold, and I lose my appetite. I place my half eaten muffin back on the plate and I brush off the crumbs from my hands and jeans. I mumble, "I can't believe this."

"What?" He asks, confused again. I hop off of the kitchen island and I thank Widgby. I make my way to the door. He rushes after me and says, "Where are you going?"

"Away from you." I say, and I shut the door behind me, he catches it before it closes and he follows me. Maybe I can reach the common room before he does anything as audacious. He asks, "Why? I just asked a question-well technically two, but-"

"Why couldn't you just drop this?" I stop in my tracks, and turn to him with a glare. He stops as well and looks at me shocked. I have my finger lifted to his chest accusingly and he asks, "Drop what?"

"Acting as if you like me, when you're just trying to use me for Quidditch." I say, and he looks confused again. Merlin, he is not a good actor. I continue, "It's one thing to use your pranks to sabotage the team, but it's another to try and use my feelings as a means to get to that."

"I'm not-"

I scoff, and I don't let him finish before I storm off again. He jogs after me and attaches a hand to my wrist to stop me from going. He reasons, "I would never use anyone's feelings like that. I actually want to go out with you-"

"Please, and those feelings suddenly appeared for the first time two days before Quidditch season." I say, and he has that look in his eye look all the pieces of the puzzle are coming together. He says, "So that's why you said no- I- I didn't even notice that Quidditch season was starting- well I did, but not in a way that correlates to me asking you out."

"It just took me so long to pluck up the courage to ask you out-"

"So I guess that's why you're whole team was looking at us." I say with anger. He stays calm and explains, "They all knew I liked you, that's why they were looking, they wanted to see how it would go."

"You really think I'm that stupid to believe this." I huff, and shove my arm out of his grip. I started walking away, and I feel relief as I see the common room getting closer and closer. He shouts while still walking faster to get to me, "I really do like you."

"Bullshit!" I shout, before he once again, grabs my wrist to hold me close to him. I only get a second to register what's going on before he pulls me close to his chest and crashes his lips to mine. He cups my face and holds me. My hands stay at my sides while my heart races.

He breaks away when he realizes that I wasn't reciprocating the kiss. He puts his arms down. He sighs then says, "I promise I wouldn't ever use your feelings against you like that. I like you."

He looks sincere. I don't say anything, and I see his cheeks turn a tinge of pink. In a way, he looks sort of defeated and maybe that's what makes me believe him. He stutters, "I'm sorry that I kissed you like that-"

I stand up on tip toes and reach up to wrap my arms around his neck. I cut him off by placing my lips on his. He doesn't waste a second in placing both hands on my waist. He pulls me flush against him, and for a split second I feel like I might faint from how fast my heart is going.

A bright light flashing into my eye, causes me to break away from him. Two prefects are looking at us with shocked expressions. I try to move away from James, but he pulls me closer. I acknowledge that this is how it's going to be like from now on. One of them turns to the other and says, "I told you I heard something."

The other one rolls his eyes and lowers his wand that was blinding me. He sighs, "You two have detention tomorrow, now, go to your common rooms."

Bonus:

I sit at the table for breakfast and already start piling food into my plate, I wasn't ready to fail today's quiz at all, and I definitely wasn't ready for my detention. I start munching on some of my eggs and that's when I see my teammates all looking at me with identical smirks.

I swallow my food and look at them all, weirded out by the fact they were watching me. I ask, "What's made me so interesting all of a sudden?"

"Boot said that he heard that you've got detention tonight." Amelia starts, and everyone's grins widen when I nod my head. Boot himself continued this time, "I heard it's because you were out after curfew snogging Potter."

I flush and pick at my food with a fork. Where does Boot get all this information from. Amos points a finger to my face and teases, "Oh, Look! She's blushing."

I wonder if I can kick Amos off the team right now, I'm sure that I'll find a better seeker somewhere else in Hufflepuff. I scowl at him and blush more. I stutter, "You need to find a new way to get information because that's a complete lie. I wouldn't-"

Luck is always on my side because just at that moment someone slides between me and Amelia, wrapping and arm around my shoulder. Making my friends' grins wider. James presses a kiss to my cheek and says, "Good morning, love."

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