#He will lead us in peace and bring us out in joy!!!

[lady-stormbraver]

“The Gardener” by Sarah Sparks 🤝 “The Sower’s Song” by Andrew Peterson

#the pruning!! the gritted-teeth clinging to hope amidst the pain!! #the not minimizing it or trying to hide true feelings from the Gardener/the Sower #but trusting Him anyway. believing He is good anyway. #He will make the branch stronger for the pruning!!! #He will lead us in peace and bring us out in joy!!! #the gardener #the sower’s song #sarah sparks #andrew peterson

[theblueflower05]

Mi Ti’ong(In Bloom)

A/N: Usually I try to keep my readers pretty ambiguous so that everyone can envision themselves, but this ones gonna be a little more distinct. If that isnt your jam, please dont read! No use of Y/N. Reader nicknamed Flora. Based on the character from Winx Club! And this art!

Word Count: 6k+

Warnings: Size difference kink.Mature Language. Smut. Overstimulation. Oral sex(female receiving) Neteyams a munch, it’s canon now.

Summary: Neteyam can have anyone and yet he only wants you. A small human who can usually be found among the flowers. Neteyam x Human! Reader

Sugar, honey, iced tea. Bumble bee on the scene.

Yeah I’d give up my bakery to have a piece of your pie, ugh!

-See You Again, Tyler the Creator.

The forest is alive, the beating heart of Eywa felt in each and every leaf among the trees.

Every glowing piece of flora and fauna, every creature whose calls echo through the vastness.

This time of year is special and it's as though it is known. Deeply and primitively by all. The rains had come and gone, nearly a month of bruised skies that had bogged down the village and its daily life.

But as they always do the skies cleared, and the sun made its reappearance. Glittering and glimmering- triple rainbows breaking out in kaleidoscope like figurations. Beaming down with all of it’s warmth and vitality.

The earth is well fed and fertile, the soil rich and blooming with new life.

It’s that new life that brings the talioang(water buffalo like beasts) back. The creatures return in great migrations to the lush pastures of sweet new grasses to have their babies. The fish swim upstream, battling the roaring rivers, to spawn. The fruit hangs heavy and ripe in the trees. All around there is nothing but full bellies and joy.

This period of abundance is the Great Mother’s gift to her children.

It had always been Neteyam’s favorite time of the year.

Everything lush and bursting with life, the excitement a low constant hum amongst the tribe. The Great Hunt is coming and his father had given him the okay to take lead.

In his nineteen years, he had never been appointed with so much responsibility.

Jake tells him it will all be fine, nothing but easy smiles. This will be good. A fantastic way to show the clan that he’s ready to take on the title of Olo’eyktan once his father steps down. Although he manages to keep is calm and cool demeanor in public, he’s so fucking nervous he can barley function.

It’s why he’s here, trudging through the branches.

The village is buzzing with excitement. Everyone wants a moment of his time, their voices overlap as they wish him good luck.

Question his competence as head of the hunt.

Subliminally hint that hunters twice his age have never gotten the chance to do what has been so freely handed to him.

Remind him that their daughters are pretty. Unmated. Makes the best steamed Teylu. Are fertile and willing to give him strong children-

Fuck.

The moment he could, he’d slipped away. Disappeared into the foliage and had booked it deep into the trees, desperate for a moment alone. For a moment of silence and the peace of being away from prying eyes.

He doesn't even really know where he’s going.

Only that he just needs to be away. If only for an hour. He needs to recharge his ever draining social battery, to get his head on straight before tomorrow's hunt.

Neteyam has always performed his best under pressure.

Things that made others balk and cower ignited something in him. A need to fight. To prove himself- it’s not the prospect of high adrenaline and stampeeding hooves that makes him squirm. It’s all of the attention its garnering.

He know’s fully well that being the next Olo’eyktan means that attention comes with the territory. But that doesnt mean the thought of everyones focus on him doesnt make his indigo skin crawl.

He’s leaping aimlessly between vines when he remembers his sisters earlier proposition.

“Come with me and Flora to the watering hole today! The waterfalls are so pretty during this season- We’re going to go swimming!”

It’d been tempting this morning, and now it is even more so. He could use a dip in the cool waters and Kiri was always an ear to vent to when he got overwhelmed. He’d clear head and then leave-

He wouldn't get stuck staring at you.

Again,

No.

He can't pinpoint exactly when this happened.

It was like one night you were just another human at the Outpost. Another familiar alien face he’d grown up around. Just like Spider you’d stuck close with the Sully children. Your cheeks always flushed beneath your exo-mask and your fingernails always dirty and caked with mud from the hours and hours you’d spend tending to any and all plants that came in your line of vision. You were always so soft. Too soft for his liking sometimes. You’d cry at just about anything whether it be one of those old Tawtute movies the scientists played at the lab or the sight of an injured shimmyfly.

And then suddenly gone was that snotty, teary little girl he’d always known. And in her place was…you. A woman grown. Beautiful and bold- and there was strength in your softness now. You’d proved him wrong so many times- made it clear that you weren't another responsibility he’d have to shoulder-

“I can take care of myself, Neteyam” you’d insisted, never letting him carry your heavy baskets or tend to your scraped knees.

It’s maddening, the way that you shrug off any and all of his advances drives him fucking insane.

Neteyam approaches the secluded bank of the watering hole that his family loves best slowly, keeping in the treeline. Just out of sight. Just like he’d expected he finds you and Kiri on the familiar sands. Kiri is lounging in the sun, eyes closed and humming a pleasant tune to herself-oblivious to anything around her. He’d have to chastise her about her complete lack of situational awareness later.

You’re knee deep in the lake- tending to the water lilies that grow close to shore. Your back is to him but he bets your nose is all scrunched up, just like it always is when you’re around anything green and growing. His eyes drink you in greedily. All of your sun kissed skin is on display in the tiny faded pink panties you don for swimming.

He’d never found humans particularly pretty before you. The intense differences in their bodies had never appealed to him-

But Eywa, are you something to look at.

Time had been kind to you, and as you’d grown your body had morphed into something goddess like. You’re a real looker, his father had claimed. Would’ve been a total knockout back on Earth.

You’re all plush curves. Your breasts are pert and sit like rip hanging fruit on your chest, your hips wide and thighs jiggly and thick. And your waist…he’s sure if he put his much larger hands around them, his fingers could touch. He could cage you in his hold.

That thought has him biting his tongue, hard enough to taste metallic. You turn a bit, your laughter chiming over the glittering water like soft wind at some dry joke Kiri made.

Your hair color is light, lighter than any Na’vi’s and falls down around your shoulders in thick waves. He can only make out the side of your face but your full lips are pulled into a coy smile and your light jade eyes sparkle and all hell. Neteyam is so gone on you.

You’re like nothing he’s seen and definitely nothing he’s had.

And since his Iknimaya he’s had his first pick of the women of the clan.

He’s tasted passionate huntresses and flexible dancers alike and none of them satiate his thirst. None of them are able to replicate what he can only imagine you might taste like. It’s almost pathetic how many women he’s had and how many times he’s almost called out your name as he emptied his seed.

Neteyam’s more discreet about his romps than his brother, that’s for sure- but still. It’s a known fact that he’s an unmated male at his prime and that comes with a certain appetite. He can have anyone he wants, any Omatikayan woman would be glad to spend a night with him.

Yet somehow he’s lurking, hiding in the bush. Watching you longingly. Simpering like a pre-teen and pining over the way that the sunlight plays in the strands of your hair.

He shakes himself from his embarrassing reverie.

No one would be able to tell that just moments before he’d been debating on stroking his cock to just the sight of you, lurking in the trees like a creep. No. As he approaches its with his head held high and a sharp smile on his handsome smile.

“Brother!” Kiri grins, sitting up once she clocks him.

“What are you girls up to?” Neteyam greets. Cool as a cucumber.

“Nothing much, just been here since dawn. The waters so high this year!” Kiri picks up a fruit from beside her, peeling at its tender meat “everyone’s been out here today-on the other side, but no one knows how to get to this spot so we’ve had the beach all to ourselves”

You’re coming in from the lapping shore, beaming at him “Look at all the paysul(waterlily) that’ve bloom! I’ve never seen this many- isn't it amazing?”

“They are very beautiful. The rains were hard this year. I’m surprised the flooding wasn't worse” Neteyam tries not to focus on how tiny your chest covering- the bra as you call it- is. He turns his attention to his sister instead.

“Where’s Tuk, I cant believe she’d miss a chance to swim with you guys”

“She’s with mom, stuck on weaving duty since she tore grandma’s favorite tapestry” Kiri snorts because her baby sister had thrown a complete fit when she had been told she couldn't come “What about you? I thought you we’re too busy to hang out with the likes of us”

“I was able to make a little time for my favorite girls” Neteyam jests, amused by your eye roll and Kiri’s scoff “Plus, Lo’ak told me you need some humbling. Seems you forgot who’s the best diver in the family”

“Oh, you’re on, Teylupil(penis face/dick head)”

After stripping down to only his cloth, his cumberband and com left on shore, he slips into the cool refreshing water with a pleased “Ah”. Enjoying the gentle current against his skin-only to be tacked under the surface by Kiri and all of her bony lanky limbs moments later.

The sun soaked afternoon is filled with laughter and splashing. It’s exactly what he needs.

The three of you play in the river like children. Neteyam and Kiri go at it like the always do- careful to be gentle with your smaller form as you join in. It’s easy to forget the looming pressure of the hunt while he’s jumping from the rushing waterfalls and racing his sister, discreetly preening when he wins and you cheer him on with little claps.

Eventually you all tire.

Kiri floats on the water and goes to that place in her head that she so often does. Completely at peace to be surrounded by nature. She claims it’s when she can best hear Eywa.

Neteyam keeps a bit of an eye on her to make sure she doesn't randomly fall asleep again. Hoping she’d have the sense to get back to the beach before that happened.

Water floods his face and goes right up his nose.

His head snaps to you, spluttering and wiping at his eyes, “What the hell?”

You just giggle innocently before disappearing beneath the surface.

Neteyam’s tail flicks with interest.

He decides to let you get your little head start. His heart speeds up with the promise of a hunt before he starts his chase.He might be bigger then you but you're quick and slippery. Your mask giving you the advantage of not having to come up for air like he does.

When he grabs your ankle, so sure he’s got you, you all but kick him in the face to get away.

You little shit.

Fine.

If you want to play dirty, then he’s game.

He allows you to think you have a chance. That you may be winning the little game. You’re heading for the waterfall, planning to hide behind it.

He’s bigger and more trained than you could ever hope to be.

It only takes one well planned move and you’re done.

He yanks a hold of you, secure. He holds you then, your back against his chest and his strong muscle corded arms wrapped around you from behind before propelling the both of you through the pounding waterfall and into the small, closed off cave behind it.

“Neteyam!” You whine, squirming in his hold like a fish and he just laughs because honestly. He can barely feel it. You’re trying to escape with all his might and he’s holding you the way he might hold a child throwing a tantrum.

He leans in close, burying his face in your wet hair, close to your ear “I win, Sylaung(flower)”

He feels you shiver in his arms and it just makes him hold you tighter. He could keep you like this forever, if you’d only let him. Instead he can feel without you even saying so how hesitant you feel about this

“I think I deserve a prize” he pushes on even further and you give him a confused, side ways look. He so graciously allows you to turn in his hold until your chests meet, face to face.

“Like what?” you wonder and you’re too cute. You’re looking up at him, struggling to treading water with your smaller legs- Neteyam lifts you higher, until you’re bracing your hands on his broad shoulders and he’s holding you above the current. Supporting you totally.

“Well what can you give?” His inquiry is almost condescending and you shrug.

“I’m fresh out of gold stars” you tease and he barks out a laugh. Do you think he can't tell? That he can't see the way your cheeks flush and your pulse hammers beneath the delicate skin of your throat?

“What about a kiss” he offers offhandedly and your face scrunches up in a glare automatically.

“You don't want to?...”

“Why do you make fun of me like this, Neteyam” It’s not often he hears your voice this hard, soured by embarrassment and self doubt.

“I’m not making fun of you” he insists with a sigh “I don't know why you always say that. When have I ever given you the impression that I’d do that?”

You won't meet his gaze. Your green eyes flick, anywhere but on him. Zeroing somewhere behind his back. All too interested on the rocky cave wall.

“If it wasn't for this damned mask” Neteyam husks, low and sincere “I’d kiss you right now”

Even still, you don't seem convinced. Won't look at him until he takes your face in his hand, his fingers gentle but insistent. They grip the mask at your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Why don't you believe me?”

“I’m nothing like the Omatikaya women you’ve been with” you say plainly like it's so obvious. Like it's a problem.

“I know”

“You didn't even like me growing up. You thought I was annoying”

“That isn't true-”

“It is” you insist haughtily “you’d make fun of me for talking to my plants”

He doesn't mean to laugh, really he doesn't. It’s not the time for it and it just pisses you off even more. He doesn't let you out of his arms even when you swat at him. “Listen, I’m sorry. I think it’s very sweet the way you talk to your plants. I want you to talk to me just like that, please”

That earns him a little giggle and he feels very pleased with himself.

You play with his hair often, most times it's mindless. A way to distract yourself. Your small deft fingers twirl along his adorned braids. He craves the scritch of your manicured nails on his scalp.

“How do you want me to kiss you? If I have my mask on” The interest in your hair is only just veiled. Your attempt at being nonchalant fails.

“Hmm” Neteyam feigns thinking, face screwed up “I think I could come up with a few ideas”

A few thousand more like it. You were the star of all of his fantasies. You, twisted and contorted into positions that would surely make you blush. You, with your mouth hanging slack in pleasure. Screaming his name-

But you hadnt agreed to that. You only, just barely, agreed to let him kiss you.

When he leans in its slow. Slow enough to give you time to push him away.

The waterfall roars in the background, white noise, but even it can't drown out the thunderous beating of your frantic heart.

Then his lips are pressed against your throat, gulping in the sweet scent of you. He cant kiss your mouth, but he can kiss the sweet, smooth column of your neck. Your clavicle. Your quivering shoulders. The heavy flesh of your breast. His kisses are open mouthed, his rough textured tongue dragging over your skin, leaving saliva trails in their wake-

You gasp sharpley when drags the skimpy fabric of your bra down so he can get at your pebbled nipple. He’s just about to suckle, when the moment is broken.

“Guys! Where’d you go?!”

It’s Kiri. Obviously awake from her nap like meditation time.

Your eyes go comically wide and Neteyam reluctantly releases you. Not wanting to get caught with an armful of pretty, half naked human. He’s thankful for the cold water and the way that he can hide the hardness tenting his tweng.

He catches you by the wrist before you can dip beneath the falls-

“We’re not done here, Sylaung” the promise leaves his lips fevor laced and full of heat.

You can only gulp and nod dazed, “I still owe you a kiss” your sweet voice reminds, before you’re ducking back under the water.

Leaving him dazed and buzzing for a moment before he gets it together and follows.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Days later he still hasn't gotten his prize.

Although he’s celebrated by his clan, praised for his successful hunt, he feels like something is missing.

The Harvest Season and its celebrations are well underway. Every night there's dancing and singing around the large bonfires we’re fragrant spiced tailong meat roasts. Neteyam is highly decorated; feathers adorn his freshly braided hair and he's donned his most ornate cumberband. He’s hauntingly handsome

Spider and Lo’ak are sat near the main fire, laughing heartily and sharing a leather gourd full of liquor between themselves.

Spider’s obviously drunk and eyeing Kiri hungerly as she dances with Tuk- he’d never do that sober. Not with Neytiri so near. Lo’ak is lounged out, an attractive female in his lap. She giggles madly at whatever filth his little brother whispers in her twitching ear.

Jealousy bubbles acidicly in Neteyam’s belly and again, he wonders where you are. Why you arent here, in his lap. Letting him woo you.

He figures he’ll have to go to you then, if you won't come to him.

First thing to do is find you.

“Hey, Spider!” the human man is the best place to start. Spider’s eyes are glassy under his mask and still. His friend is excited to see him, greets him with a hand shake and a small hug.

“Neteyam, man! Where have you been all night?”

“Around, you know how it is” Neteyam shrugs, sitting sown on the log, accepting the gourd and taking a swig of the thick sticky sap inside. It burns all the way down.

“This partys essentially for him- I’m surprise you we’re able to get away from dad” Lo’ak shit-talks, like he always does. It’s good natured for the most part “I thought he might throw you a parade or something. Call in the clans-”

“Fuck you, man” Neteyam chuckles, shaking his head at Lo’aks theatrics. “Don't be jealous”

“Jealous of dad? Nah” Lo’ak “Now the women you’re getting? That I might be jealous of”

“Hey!” the girl in his lap, a weaver from a modest family, squrims, pinching at his shoulder “You’ve got all the woman you need for the night, sayrip”

She squeals when Lo’ak squeezes her tight around her middle and blows wet raspberry kisses into her neck.

Neteyam just rolls his eyes and shares a little look with Spider. By the next eclipse, Lo’ak wouldve moved on. He has a knack for loving and leaving.

“Why arent you out there, bro? I saw Amitsa giving you the eyes! She’s so hot and she doesnt ever give anyone the time of day” Spider juts his chin and sure enough. The woman is giving Neteyam longing looks from across the fire. She’s a pretty thing and her sultry voice is renowned in the tribe. He’d be lying if he said he wasnt attracted to her “You’re not gonna go try to get at that?”

No. He’s not.

“Uh” Neteyam scratches the back of his neck “I was actually looking for Flora, I havent been able to find her around lately”

Of course, that sets of a exactly what he knows it would.

His brothers are assholes and have teased his merciesly since discovering his obsessive crush. Spider knocks his much smaller shoulder against Neteyam’s and Lo’ak hoots with laughter.

“How someone can be pussy whipped for pussy they haven't even had is beyond me” Lo’ak snorts and Neteyam gives him a warning growl, his lips snarled up.

It’s nothing he hadn’t heard before.

Lo’ak finds it endlessly amusing that Neteyam had his eye on you, the tiny human he’d grown up so lukewarm about. It had always been his siblings; Kiri and Lo’ak and Tuk that were close with you growing up. Neteyam had never shown a speck of interest until your figure had grown curvy and supple-

“Piss off, I wasn’t asking you” Neteyam gives his best big brother stare down. His golden eyes hard and unimpressed before looking to Spider, hairless brows raised “You know where I could find her?”

“Listen man, she said wasn’t interested in hanging out with anyone tonight” the human man starts with a sigh and Neteyam’s growl is low and warning “-but I’m sure you can find her where she always is”

Neteyam wracks his brain for a moment “The Greenhouses?”

“Bingo” Spider nods, an almost sympathetic look in his eye as he watches Neteyam jump to his feet and set off.

Lo’ak sniggers and the girl in his lap scoffs and mutters something about “shameful, being that twisted up about a tawtute” but Spider says nothing.

Instead his plixr hazed eyes focus on the figure dancing close to the firelight. Kiri lets out a twinkling laugh at something Tuk says and yeah. Spider understands Neteyam. He understands being completely obsessed with something you’ve never had.

Instead of taking a note from his much braver brother, he lifts his mask and takes another shot of the acidic syrup.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Neteyam could make the trek through the forest to Hells Gate in his sleep..

He’d spent a good chunk of his childhood retracing these exact steps, headeded for the familiar concrete fortress that made up the last human outpost on Pandora.

Neteyam had always been far too similar to his mother, for countless reasons. But his distaste for everything industrial was one of the main reasons. As he got older he spent less and less time here. Couldnt be found in the cold echoing hallways like Lo’ak and the girls coul

But even he could admit.

There’s something beautiful about the Greenhouses.

With their dome like structure, the big glass buildings are a fortress for the humans. Inside they’re as hot and humid as the Pandoran rainforests- but circulating Earth air so that the fruits and vegetables that are native to Terra Firme can grow, even on this alien planet.

Neteyam makes his way inside, plugging in the codes into the keypad and letting himself in through the pressurized doors that slide closed right behind him. His eyes are peeled, taking in all of the foreign greenery, hoping to catch a flash of tanned skin or light hair in the cracks between trees.

The Greenhouses are huge. There’s orchards of apples and oranges and long deep garden beds full of root vegetables. Enough to feed the Hell’s Gate settlement throughout the year, to trade with the People of the Omaticaya.

No matter, he’s a blooded hunter after all.

He hones in on that training as he tracks your path. Your footprints along the cement floor are light, and really you barely leave any trace of yourself at all. You float along with light steps and Neteyam truly thinks if you had been born one of the People you would’ve made a fine huntswoman-

He finds you in the shade of the orange trees. You’re up on a stool, gathering the plump fruit and humming a pleasant little tune.

You’re ethereal in artificial sunlight.

You’re something out of the books that Norm used to read to them when they were kids. His favorite had been the one about the boy who would never grow up and the island of Neverland. And the tiny golden dust covered pixi that flitted from page to page.

A fairy.

A being not quite real. Too gentle and feminine to exist.

He likes the tawtute clothes you wear. The small top that clings to your breasts like a second skin and the flowy patterned skirt. Of course if it was up to him you’d only ever wear the garments of the People- or even better, Nothing at all.

You reach too high, strained up on your tippy toes and Neteyam feels irrational fear at that. At all of your delicate skin and breakable neck-

He’s beside you in an instant and he doesn't need a ladder to reach the high hanging fruit you’d been struggling for. He grabs the fruit with one hand while the other stabilizes you, his big palm spread out across the small of your back.

You gasp at his warm touch. Your head snapping in his direction and legs going wobbly.

“Neteyam!”

“Flora” He sighs as he urges you down from the ladder, takes the heavy bucket of fruit from your hands “You really do need to be more careful”

You splutter for a moment, still shocked at his sudden arrival “I- ugh! I was fine!” you insist haughtily “It’s not like I don't do this all of the time. You didn't need to come help me, I can manage perfectly fine on my own”

“Need to help you?” Neteyam cocks his head a bit.

“Yeah…I mean. Why else would you be here?” you ask, scratching awkwardly at your arm for a moment “Tonight's the celebration. You really should be back with the clan-”

“As should you” He cuts you off firmly. Not liking the way that you’re trying to separate yourself from the tribe. From him “I have not seen you for days. Do you not want to feast with our people?”

You sigh, looking away from him. Biting at that plump ever pink bottom lip of yours. Always shy, he knows he needs to bring you out of your shell. You’ll find a way to run away from him again if he doesn't.

“I didnt come here to help you” Neteyam admits because he’s selfish and because you’re too beautiful. Even more so, since you’ve been hiding from him. Avoiding his attention.

“Oh really?” you’re not coy by nature but there's something in your eyes. In the way you’re looking up at him “Then what are you here for?”

“My kiss”

Your pupils expand, just the tiniest bit but he can see it. He can see it all. Every inch of your pretty face, unbridled by that cumbersome mask you usually are forced to don. He can see every freckle and blemish- and the way that a blush creeps across the apples of your cheeks.

“A deals a deal” Neteyam insists at the prolonged silence. At your nervous flicking gaze.

“Okay” is your sweet reply and he can only stare at your plump lips. A man with one thing and one thing only on his mind.

You don't protest when he reaches for you. When his big hands go around your waist and tug slowly until he’s enveloping you in his chest. You fit so perfectly, right under his sternum. Stare up at him with wide eyes that flutter closed the closer he inches his face towards yours.

The kiss is wet and electric and Neteyam wants to eat you whole.

Any awkwardness that comes from the size difference is soon overcome by the desire that simmers between you. You let him lead, always so willing to go with whatever flow he may give. Let him nip at your delicate bottom lip until he can almost taste the metallic twang of blood. Let him stick his much bigger tongue into your warm mouth, and then down your constricting throat.

As you make little gasping choking sounds, he imagines it's his huge pulsing cock stealing the air from your lungs instead.

You gasp for breath when he pulls away, as he trails kisses down your soft jaw. He cant stop, wants to taste you everywhere. Every inch of skin. He know it must be overwhelming- if your heaving breaths and mewls are anything to go by, he knows you’re feeling every inch of the mind spinning need that he is.

Still,

No matter how much he gropes at you with rough hands and drags spit soaked kisses over your neck and chest, youre so good for him. Such a good girl. Holding on for any ride he might take you on. Your fingers twined in his silky braids arent there to push him away, but to pull him closed.

When he grasps you by the back of your thighs and hoists- you wrap your legs around his slim waist, your ankles hooking at his lower back.

The helpless noise you make goes straight to his groin.

Neteyam lies you down on hard floor. He’d rather have you in the warmth of his Kelku, or under the stars, but at least here he can get at your maskless face. At your bare lips. Once he’s cradling your head safely and tucked in between your spread thighs he's at you again. Ravenously.

You’re so docile, so eager to let him take whatever he wants.

“Flora” he husks into your hair and you shiver.

“Yeah?”

“Flora” Neteyam brings your little body even closer.”You have no Idea. I have to have you. I need-”

You squeak needily “You can have whatever you need” and gasp when Neteyam kisses your cheek. Your lips. Your jaw. Your neck. Your nerves are on fire and your hips grind against his.

“I need this body. I need to see all of it, you drive me crazy” Neteyam armits as he tugs on your top and you help him pull it up over your head. You dont wear a bra, why would you? Your pretty rosy nipples are all on display for him. Pebbled and begging for attention, He laps slowly with his wide textured tongue at the puffy nub.

He suckles like a newborn until you’re chivalry and making hurt little sounds, until your pretty chest is covered in blooming bruises.

And then he’s dragging his wanting mouth down. Past your heaving ribs and over your soft belly. Neteyam hikes the flowy material of your skirt up high, until he can bend down and poke his head underneath.

“Oh!” you gasp, writhing a bit. Your thighs trying to close on instinct.

You’re so wet for him, the smell of it is thick and heady and he digs his nose into your inner thigh and snuffles. Its mouthwatering.

And it bit mortifying, from your end. Having the large man with his head buried under your skirt as he sniffs at your core-

When he licks a fat stripe over you, wetting up the thin material of your panties you cry out. No ones ever touched you like this and here he is, licking at your clothed pussy. Over and over until the fabric is translucent and sticky with your flowing juices.

“Please” you mewl, gathering the fabric, yanking until you can see him.

Its filthy and erotic. The sight of his hulking blue body between your trembling tanned thighs. So alien. So taboo-

“Please what, sylaung?” Neteyam taunts, his golden eyes meeting yours. They shine with mirth, and lust. So much lust. When he noses at your pink flowery panties you throw your head back, eyes squeezed closed. Unable to take the sight any longer “You want me to take care of you?”

“Yes” you sob because you’re pulsing and you can barley breathe you’re so horny “Please take care of me with your tongue”

Neteyam strips you then, out of your skirt and cute little panties and you’re lying under him. Naked and flushed and wanting.

He shoulders himself exactly back where he wants to be. Where he’s always wanted to be.

“Don't worry, I’ll take care of this sweet pussy for you”

Oh god. Your head is spinning.

You can barely think as he kisses on the jiggling fat of your thighs.

“I’m sorry” you gasp.

Neteyam hums right against your core and you can feel the vibrations throughout your entire body “What for?”

“I’m so messy” you whisper, that pink blush blooming all over your body.

Groaning, Neteyam can't wait any longer. Your flavor bursts along his taste buds. Tangy and earthy and decadently sweet. He’s had his fair share of cunt before, but he’s never tasted a humans and he’s shocked at how saccharine it is. It’s sticky and coats his mouth and throat. His lips and nose and chin as he digs in.

“Neteyam!” You wait.

“Fuck. Oh, Eywa. One Second” Neteyam sits up and adjusts himself where his painfully hard under his tweng and the ache in you deepens. You try to be good, try to be still as he leans in and licks at you again. Kisses your pussy in that same beautiful passionate way he kisses your lips.

He’s good. Too good at this. He’s had too much practice and you never had a chance againts that oversized mouth.

“Holy fuck” the words sound even more vulgar in your honeyed voice “Fucking hell, Nete. Nete. I’m almost there”

Neteyam grin is hidden between the lips of your pussy. He doubles down, letting you hump and soak his face. Then lapping back at inside of you in a repetitive and ceaseless rhythm, One that has you shaking, arching up off the ground. Your plush thighs closing, clamping around his head as you come.

Your orgasm cinches tight and rushes around you, inside of you, out of you with a gush of slick. It’s so deep. So strong, that it takes a moment for you to truly peak and it leaves you in a daze. Out side of your body as you fuck up againts Neteyams mouth like a wild animal.

You’d never come so hard in your life and it takes a while for you to recenter.

Once youre able to focus past the rushing in your ears, the first thing you notice is Neteyam’s face streaked with wet. Your blush blooms across your cheeks as you both breathe unevenly into the quiet.

“Did that feel good?” Nereyam knows it did, but still. He needs to ask. Needs to hear you say it.

You giggle, girlish and airy as your dainty hand releases his hair and cups at his cheek “So so good. I’ve never felt anything like that before”

His grin is all too feline and seeing those white canines gleam so close to the most sensitive part of you is a little alarming.

“There’s so much more to come, yawntutsyip” Neteyam promises, leading back down. His fingers play with the jiggle of your thigh- so different then any of the Omaticaya women he’s had You squirm a bit, clearly overstimulated, but keep your legs spread anyway.

Neteyams long digits prod gently at your pussy lips. You’re oddly pretty here. All red and rosy and inflamed, like that blush he loved so much on your cheeks. He spreads you with two fingers so that he can look at you inside. At your quivering pink folds and your tiny little hole that clenches when he runs his finger along it.

“You’re so small here” he whispers, completely hypnotized by it “So fucking tight. You’ll never be able to take me”

You whimper unhappily “Don’t say that. I want to- please just try”

“Shh,” Neteyam soothes your cries. Your dazed worries. He distracts you with his tongue, as it swirls over your throbbing clit. It feels a bit like sandpaper to your nerves, but you can get enough.

When his finger begins to breach you, you hold your breath.

Its big, but youre so loose from your first orgasm, so desperate to be filled that he sinks in until the hilt.

Its maddening after that and you grind the back of your head into the hard concrete under you- your eyes closed and your mouth hanging open. The sounds you make are feral and raw-

Neteyam fucks you open with one and then two fingers until its easy. Until the sweet stretch doesn't burn- instead its slippery and wet.horribly wet as Neteyam feasts on you as he fucks you with his fingers-

“Too much-Fuck” you weakly try to pull away from the assult of pleasure but he he’s too strong. Pins you down. Makes you take whatever he wants to give you.

When he lifts your hips up even higher to take a curious lick at your puckered asshole you white out.

This orgasm isnt like the first. You sink under the waves of this one. Your muscles cramp with the intensity. You cant come back to yourself, you can’t cling to anything but Neteyam. You cant even scream.

He’s everything, as he soothes you. As he makes you feel things you’ve never felt before.

“H-hurts” you whimper, eyes filling up with tears. Pussy aching.

“Just a little more baby” Neteyam huffs as he licks at you and stuffs the hand that's covered in your cum down his own tweng. It lubricates the fast and furious pumping of his fist along his rock hard cock.

He cant fuck you tonight, thats something the two of you will have to work up to. He’ll teach your tiny body to take him. To crave penetration.

But with his tongue buried in your pulsating pussy and your scent all around him its easy enough to pretend. Easy enough to imagine shoving himself into you slowly. Stretching you’re ruined. Your hole would never be the same. You’d forever gape because of him-

Neteyam comes with a roar and dirties his loincloth up like a teenager.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Later, after he’s cleaned you both up the best he can and gathered you to his chest. After he’s taken a sip from the breathing mask and nuzzled ar your wispy soft baby hairs that are plastered against the side of your sweaty head-

That he has the urge to read that book again. The one with the fairies. As he watches your slumbering face, your nose scrunching and lips pursing, he thinks the onlt thing missing is the gossamer wings,

His own little fairy.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

AAAAAAND we’re done.

First and foremost I want to give the wonderful @oakbuggy her accolades. Her Neteyam x Flora art inspired this fic 100%. A couple months ago I actually messaged her begging her to let me right this for her because I just couldn't get over this crackship of dreams. Thank you for being so patient with me. I hope you enjoy that overstimulation, baby!

PLEASE GO CHECK OUT HER ART. It’s sooooo delish.

This was a monster to write because I just had so many different ideas of what I wanted to do with the two of them and couldn't pinpoint where exactly I wanted the plot to go. Even now its a bit messy but still. I’m a fucking sucker for Neteyam x Flora and I would be more then happy to write more of them if thats something everyone would be into.

Please give me some feedback. What did we think about this writing style? Do we like the Y/N route more?

Until next time sweet honey bees!

#neteyam smut #neteyam x reader #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam x human!reader #neteyam x human reader #neteyam x flora #neteyam x you

[writingforstraykids]

Heyyy! Hope you're doing great :)

Can I request a birthday special of how husband Chan treats the female reader on her bday? Like totally spoiling her hehe :)

Thank you! Have a great day!

Pairing: Chan x fem!reader

Word Count: 737

Warnings/Tags: fluff, birthday date, husband!chan

A/N: Happy birthday, love. I hope you like the little something I came up with🤭🖤

The morning sun hadn’t even broken the horizon when you felt a gentle nudge. Your eyes fluttered open, still heavy with sleep, and you turned to see Chan, your husband, with a smile that could outshine the dawn itself.

“Happy birthday, baby,” Chan whispered, his voice soft as silk. The room was still dim, but there was a flicker of excitement in his eyes that told you he had something special planned. You stretched, a content smile playing on your lips, and leaned in for a morning kiss, which he returned with a warmth that filled your heart with joy.

As you sat up, you noticed that Chan had laid out a beautiful outfit for you: a soft, flowing dress paired with your favorite accessories. It was your birthday, after all, and he seemed keen on making it unforgettable. 

“Get dressed at your pace,” Chan said, his hands clasped behind his back, trying to hide his eagerness. “I’ve got quite the day planned for us.”

After a long shower, you dressed and joined Chan downstairs, where the aroma of breakfast filled the air. The table was set for two, adorned with fresh flowers and your favorite dishes: pancakes topped with a generous amount of berries and maple syrup, freshly squeezed orange juice, and a delicate omelet filled with herbs and cheese. It was a feast for the senses.

“Everything looks amazing,” you said, taking your seat. Chan beamed with pride as he poured you a cup of coffee just the way you liked it.

Breakfast was a delightful affair, filled with laughter and plans for the day. Once you were both finished, Chan took your hand and led you outside. A black limousine waited at the curb, its chauffeur holding the door open. Your eyes widened in surprise.

“A limo, Chan?” you asked, a giggle escaping your lips.

“Only the best for my wife,” he replied, helping you into the car.

The first stop was a luxurious spa. You were treated to a couple’s massage that melted away any lingering stress, leaving you both relaxed. The scent of lavender and the sound of soothing music followed you as you continued to a manicure and pedicure, chatting about everything and nothing at all.

Lunch was at a quaint little restaurant by the sea. You ate outside, the salty sea breeze mingling with the aroma of the seafood platter you both shared. Chan raised a toast to you, his eyes twinkling with love and affection. “To my beautiful wife, may this year bring you as much joy as you’ve brought into my life.”

The afternoon was spent walking hand in hand along the beach, shoes in hand, sand between your toes. Chan had always known how much you loved the ocean, and the peaceful sound of the waves was the perfect soundtrack to your perfect day.

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, Chan led you to a secluded part of the beach where a blanket and a picnic basket awaited. You watched the sunset together, the world seeming to stand still around you, the moment filled with nothing but beauty.

But the surprises weren’t over yet. As twilight turned to night, you noticed little sparks of light on the sand leading away from your picnic spot. Chan nodded for you to follow the trail, which led to a small clearing where a projector was set up. “I thought we could end the day with an outdoor movie under the stars,” he said, his grin infectious.

You snuggled together under a blanket as your favorite movie played, the stars twinkling above you. It felt like the universe was celebrating with you, each star a testament to the love and care Chan had put into making this birthday the best you’d ever had.

As the credits rolled and you leaned against Chan, feeling the steady beat of his heart, you knew that this day would be etched in your memory forever—not just because of the grand gestures, but because it was a day spent with the one you loved most, celebrating not just your birth, but the life you shared together.

“I love you, Chan,” you murmured, your voice soft with emotion.

“I love you more, Y/nnie,” he replied, his voice equally tender. 

And in that moment, nothing else mattered but the two of you together under the vast, starry sky.

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

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#stray kids #skz #chan #chan fic #chan imagines #chan drabble #chan scenarios #chan x reader #chan fluff #bang chan #bang chan fluff #bang chan x reader #bang chan scenarios #bang chan imagines #bang chan fic #stray kids fluff #stray kids fic #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #skz fluff #skz x reader #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz fic

[scarapanna]

The main premise and events in the Intertwined Opposites AU

It's finally here!!!

I've managed to finally make a proper info post for my personal take on this silly possession AU craze as I've planned to do for a while since I'm totally normal about this concept (lie) /silly

Before proceeding, keep in mind that this post is gonna be pretty long as I'll be diving into important story events troughout the first half of it, so it gets the read more treatment as usual!!

There will be no crk spoilers here (except for the beast-yeast episodes), just a ""prologue" to current narrative events in the AU

•The beginning•

Everything starts in beast-yeast, once peace has been returned to the fairie kingdom

Now that the area is mostly free from danger with the silver tree's seal being properly mended, the crowd decides to start repairs and preparations to further celebrate everyone's victory for the remainder of the day.

However, as everyone starts to leave the area, something starts creeping out from the shadows created by the tree's roots

Turns out that Shadow Milk, now severely weakened from the blow taken in battle, has managed to flee from being forced back into his prison once more.

During Lily's blast of magic, he essentially "split" and discarded part of his own power as a last resort, separating what was already being sucked into the renewed seal from himself to avoid getting dragged into containment once more.

Unfortunately for the beast, both his panicked and sloppy procedure combined with the added strenght of the new guardian's spell left him with a very poor amount of strenght, with it not being enough for anything useful.

Needless to say, his mind is filled with hatred and anger as soon as he emerges

he can't really do much with this state, and thus lingers on formulating a plan to get what he wanted from the start, but how?

How would he get back on track, rid himself of the guardian, and break the seal once more like this?

The answer eventually comes to him, just right on top of a bridge alongside the one who restored his prison.

His souljam, the one he was once the owner of

Now "purified" and held by Pure Vanilla, it binds the two together with the virtue of knowledge, split in the lights of truth and deceit during the purification process.

These lights are owned by the beast, and the figure by the bridge in front of him, yet come from the same thing.

Shadow Milk has finally decided on a proper plan.

◆ What comes after and what it leads to ◆

Days pass, turning into a few weeks and ending with a trip back home to take a break and write down what happened during the beast-yeast expedition.

Everything seems to have gone well in the end, yet something still feels..wrong?

It's not the best term for it, but does the job well enough.

The vanilla kingdom is peaceful, and Pure Vanilla's return safe and sound brings back some joy to the citizens.

Yet it just doesn't feel right, he doesn't know what precisely, but the ancient is riddled with an odd feeling almost like being watched.

He might not realise it for now, but he had been right. Someone has been following him inside the castle for the entire duration of the trip.

Pure Vanilla slowly grows more wary as days pass, and his doubts are confirmed as Shadow Milk's idea is proven successful.

In the void Pure Vanilla is confronted by Shadow Milk cookie, he spills everything he's done without esitating twice, as there's no reason to hide it anymore.

Shadow Milk had always been there ever since the re-sealing of the tree, following Pure Vanilla and draining magic at a slow enough rate to not be noticed, until it was enough to take over his body without trouble.

Now that he had a "vessel" to work with, he could keep recharging power and be finally able to do his bidding.

He's questioned multiple times by Pure Vanilla, but he wouldn't budge, and the ancient manages to gather only their location and a few loose details.

This was not a void, this was a ""mind space"" where he was bound to stay while shadow milk used his body as a disguise, and he could not use magic to fight back against the beast.

Being out of options, Pure Vanilla quickly tries to think over what to do, and lingers over the situation to come up with something.

Shadow Milk proposes an idea to Pure Vanilla, sharing the vessel that both are confined in, to be sure he doesn't get caught.

This is only to one condition: the ancient must work in favour of the beast under it's watchful sight at all times

The Ancient complies, and a deal is sealed.

It's not a loss nor a victory, only a beginning

◆The current situation◆

Now that the main prologue is set, what happens precisely to both?

So, Shadow Milk cookie is essentially ""possessing"" Pure Vanilla, but not completely.

The two switch up control of the ancient's body in certain times of the day and night, sometimes Pure Vanilla is granted the lead and when he's not needed Shadow Milk takes it. He's pretty much using the ancient as a puppet, a disguise and a tool for his own gain, assigning him certain tasks so that his plan will work as intended.

Whenever one of them is not in control of their shared ""vessel"", they're send in the mindspace until the shift of control takes place and so on. Shadow milk never gives Pure Vanilla full "freedom" or personal space, having control of the shifts in lead and constantly keeping the ancient under watch trough mirrors and reflective surfaces (The only moments in which he's given alone time is when the beast is asleep in the mind space to retain magic).

The ancient, on the other hand, accepted Shadow Milk's offer right away without esitation, but for a much different reason.

Pure vanilla is trying to get the best out of his situation, and thus feels forced to go against his own morality to keep cookies safe and attempt to alarm them trough hints and hidden messages scattered in the kingdom.

Even if he doesn't like the means, what else could he do to keep everyone safe?

The difficulty of his situation causes him great stress and paranoia, which worsens as time goes on and Shadow Milk regains his powers bit by bit, making his actions more difficult to get away with unnoticed.

Here's some more info regarding the effects of sharing a vessel in two:

• Pure Vanilla and Shadow Milk's connection by souljam makes sharing a body possible, otherwise it would be fatal to most cookies (As they're not made to be vessels).

• The slit in the souljam is a shared element which hints at Shadow milk's presence in both, during control shifts it flickers in different shades of gray.

• Remaining on the topic, control shifts are not plesant in the slightest to both parties involved, being defined by acute physical pain on the area covered by the souljam. This is inflicted on the current cookie in charge of the vessel during the shift, fading away only when back in the mindspace.

•The two can see eachother and comunicate trough reflective surfaces, with them displaying the current entity in the mindspace instead of the one leading the vessel.

• Pure Vanilla's voice sounds somewhat overlapped or distorted when shadow milk is in charge of his body, he can't change this aspect unfortunately for him.

• Certain factors like hunger and thirst are shared between the two due to their predicament, they can sometimes be heard debate over what to eat and when during the day.

• Sleep in the traditional sense is the only factor distinct to the two instead of being shared, as it's strictly based on "individual energy" rather than "shared energy"

#RAAA IT'S FINALLY OUTTT #The first 3 panels are kinda old now but that's okay #the art gradually gets higher in quality I promise/silly #cookie run kingdom #pure vanilla cookie #beetle's art #shadow milk cookie #crk au #intertwined opposites au #cw scopophobia #cw eye contact #just to be sure #in some panels sm stares at pv but it's from “pv's pov” soo #I'll give this a final check for any grammatical issues tomorrow #I listened to some jekyll and hide broadway songs while making this au and imploded can you tell/silly #long post

[minaturefics]

Though I Know My Heart Would Break

Request: For the poll that Legolas won! You guys sent in a few prompts, I've incorporated: sick (injured, rather) fic, hurt/comfort, everyone lives, and reader confesses first! Hope you guys like it! (Title is from Hozier's Francesca that has me in a chokehold)

Legolas x Reader

Gender-neutral reader

Content warnings: Mild injury (no overly graphic descriptions)

3.7k words

---

You walked through the forest, ducking under the cedar branches, weaving between the cypresses. The air was rich with the scent of herbs — thyme and sage, marjoram and parsley. The late afternoon sun filtered in through the canopy, specking the forest floor with light. Legolas’ footsteps were silent on the soft ground, but the steady clopping of the horse he was leading reassured you of his presence.

With the coronation over, and Eowyn and Faramir wed, attention was turned to restoring Minas Tirith and setting up a settlement at Emyn Arnen. You and Legolas were tasked with surveying the land and forests around Emyn Arnen. Sam was curious about the plants, hearing how new and different they were to those back in The Shire, but Frodo’s reluctance to stray further than the Citadel kept him in Minas Tirith. 

You paused by a cluster of pink rockfoils, thumbing the thin stems before plucking a few small flowers and tucking them into a waxed pouch. 

“Mellon nin,” Legolas said, sounding half-amused, half-exasperated, “Why do you pause and pluck? You have been doing so since we arrived. ”

“They’re for Sam. He might have agreed to stay in Minas Tirith, but I saw the shade of disappointment in his eyes. I thought perhaps I could bring the forest to him instead.”

His lips tugged up at the corners. “And what will you give the forest in return?”

“What do you mean?” You frowned and stood. 

He smiled, soft and knowing, eyes wandering over the barks and branches. “These trees have been left at peace for many years, the bushes and shrubs untouched. They are not used to wandering fingers and restless feet.”

You glanced down at the patch of rockfoils, the decapitated stems looking more brutal in light of Legolas’ words. Your lips twisted and he chuckled, and your eyes drifted back to him.

He had always been so full of light and laughter, even during the endless days and dark nights, even after Gandalf fell, even after the hobbits were taken. Ethereal, that was what people said of the elves. Otherworldly. 

But he looked so human, so normal, standing in a patch of sunlight, laughing at the concerned expression on your face. There were smudges of dirt on his boots, dew dotting the bottom hem of his cloak, and even a small leaf lodged in his hair. 

Yes, Legolas has always just been Legolas to you. 

Perhaps that was why it had been so easy to lose your heart to him. How could you not? While the others regarded him with a deference, or awe in the hobbits’ case, or even confusion at his elf customs, he had never truly seemed so different to you. His eyes, brown and alive in the light, still crinkled at the corners when he smiled. His voice, low and melodious, still cracked when he spoke of sorrows. And his hands, delicate and strong, still bore soft calluses from his bow. 

The last couple of days had been so indulgently wonderful. Without the threat of war or the constant need for secrecy and vigilance, being out in the wilds once more was soothing. It was a great secret joy, of course, that you had Legolas’ undivided attention. 

He had been more loose limbed and free with touches. Hands grazing yours as you walked, his knee against yours while you sat. His eyes too, seemed to melt into an amber by the fire, a tenderness in his gaze. It felt as though the seed of friendship had slowly, slowly, started to grow into something more. 

“Shall we continue on?” He said, and inclined his head towards the distant sound of water. “We can set up camp and leave our things while we walk the forest.”

You nodded and smiled before looking away, eyes scanning the forest floor before they landed on a patch of flowers. They were strange looking, three pronged with large paper-like petals. You knelt by them, carefully cutting the blooms with your knife, and idly said, “It is beautiful here, is it not?”

He hummed in agreement. “I could envisage residing here for a time, should Faramir allow it.”

You glanced at him over your shoulder and chuckled. “You should speak to Sam. Aragorn has already consulted him on some of the gardens in the Citadel, it would not surprise me if Faramir would ask him to Emyn Arnen to design something.”

“Those flowers,” he began, stepping closer and inspecting them, “they are… strange. I do not know what they are, and perhaps it would be better to leave them be.”

“Are they poisonous?”

He leaned in and sniffed them. “No, but as I said before, this forest is unaccustomed to such things. Gifts must be freely given, and what is not must be a fair exchange.”

You dropped them into the pouch and laughed, continuing through the forest. There was a strange note in his voice, something older, wiser, than the Legolas you knew. But what harm could there be in a few cuttings? The forest was vast; a few flowers and leaves here and there would not be any loss at all. “Come now, Legolas, you speak as though —”

A stone caught your toe, your knee buckled, and you fell to the ground. Sharp pain jolted up your wrists and knees, then a hot stinging spread across your palms and shins. You blinked, eyes focusing and unfocusing on the rotting leaves in the dirt, before warm hands rested between your shoulder blades.

“Are you alright?” Legolas said, crouching and easing you back into a sitting position. You stared at him, eyes drifting from his eyes to his lips. Had he always had such beautiful lips? “Mellon nin, are you alright?”

“Yes… I —” The shock of tingling subsided from your hands and legs and only a dull throbbing remained. You looked down at your knee, the same knee that had been shot, and found your trousers ripped and the old wound reopened. It was not as bad as the initial wound, though still relatively deep, and was bleeding sluggishly through the matted dirt. “Oh, I’m… bleeding.”

His eyes darted from your knee to the divot in the ground where a leaf caught in your fall was stained with blood. His lips tightened before he let out a soft sigh. “It is as I said: a fair exchange.” An easy smile spread across his face, the hand on your shoulder loosened its grip, and his voice took on a merry lilt. “However, I do not believe we will have any more trouble on our little trip here.”

The shock of the fall had subsided and you looked at the pouch still clutched in your fist. “Well, I suppose I should make the most of it then, and collect what I can for Sam.”

He laughed, squeezing your shoulder affectionately. “Never one to pass up an opportunity. Come, let us set up camp by the river and have a look at your wound. I do not wish for the matrons at the Houses of Healing tomorrow to claim I have neglected you.”

He pulled you to your feet, and looped an arm around your waist to help you hobble along. His arm was warm, his grip firm but gentle. Pressed up against him you could smell his scent, something fresh like grass or water, unsullied even by a couple of days in the forest. The both of you found a suitable spot under shelter by the trees, and after tying the horse up, he led you to the banks. 

His nimble fingers pried apart the shredded remains of the fabric by your knee and started to wash the wound. He dressed it with some honey from his pack and untouched moss from the forest floor and some spare wrappings you had in your supplies for such an eventuality. 

While he worked, you watched his hands. Long and lithe, they were precise and delicate with their motions. If only you could reach out, and lay your hand on top of his, to sweep your thumb over the back of his knuckles. But your hands were still muddied, and the new closeness you shared with him was too new and too tenuous for something like that. 

Legolas set up camp with a practiced efficiency, and soon the both of you were sitting beside each other by the fire, eating your supplies of bread and cheese. The fire crackled and popped, and around you the forest became alive at night. Owls hooted in the trees, and critters rustled in the bushes, and then, very softly, Legolas began to sing. 

The words were lost on you, but the melody was enough. The notes drifted in the air, curling around you, seeping into your skin. It sounded slow and adoring, leisurely and lazy, and the sensation of lying on sun-warmed grass, your lover’s touch skirting up your arm, filled your body. You leaned back on your arms, sinking into his voice, letting it carry and caress you. 

When the last few words rang in the air, you opened your eyes. Legolas was looking at you with a fond expression, eyes half-lidded and lips in a soft smile. 

“That song,” you whispered, “what is it about?”

His smile widened and he said, “I’ll tell you another time perhaps.”

-

Legolas stood on one of the parapets that overlooked the entrance to the Houses of Healing. Your wound was not healing as well as it should, most likely because of how bad the initial arrow wound was, and you were getting it redressed by the matrons. He sighed and let his eyes wander from the stone flagstones, to the rooftops, to the plains. In truth, the sight of your flesh, angry and inflamed, shook something in him. Even something as minor as your wound, was enough of a risk for infection, for fever. 

Humans were so fragile, so… final. 

He blinked at the thought. Yes, of course, how could he forget? Humans were mortal. Boromir was, Aragorn was. Even the merry little hobbits and Gimli were. How strange to think that such a thing slipped his mind when it came to you, but it was far too easy really. 

There was a vitality that seemed to pour from your being, an almost stubborn resilience, especially in the grim shadow of misfortune. It was the way you would play with the hobbits, even after a long day of walking, or grit your teeth and carry on, even harrowing experience after harrowing experience. When you smiled, the day was better, brighter, and he always found himself trying to get another laugh from you. 

And yet… such a light could be so easily snuffed out. 

He shifted on his feet and watched as you limped from the Houses of Healing. He had intended to go with you, but Sam had wanted to discuss garden plans, and Boromir had gone with you instead. He was about to raise his arm and call out to you, when a figure emerged from behind the line of trees. Boromir walked towards you with outstretched arms and pulled you into his side and helped you along, vanishing from his sight beyond the trees.

Ever since the end of the war, it had felt as though things were shifting between him and you. It was only small, nearly imperceptible changes — softer smiles, more frequent dinners alone, hands that reached and fingers that brushed. And yet… Why did it feel as though you were on the other side of something he could not cross? 

He thought of the cry of the gulls, the perpetual tugging at his heart for the sea. Oh, how he wished he had never heard them. Was this how Arwen felt all the time? Longing, aching. She was happy with Aragron, he knew, but sometimes he would catch her gazing out of a window, eyes forlorn and smile sad. Aragorn knew, understood even, and in those moments he left her to her quiet longing, never hurt or bothered, and welcomed her into his arms when she went back to him. 

But would you understand? Could you accept that there would always be one part of him that belonged to the sea, to the distant shore he would never reach? Or would it be a burden to ask such a thing of you? Maybe you would be better off with someone… mortal. He sighed and wandered back towards the Citadel proper. 

“Boromir, this is unnecessary. Put me down!” Your laughter rang out and you and Boromir emerged onto the courtyard. You were in his arms, limbs flailing as he wrangled to keep you held properly. “Boromir, I — oh, Legolas.”

“Ah, Legolas,” Boromir said as he gently replaced you back on the ground. “I return them to your care.”

He forced a smile onto his face. “How is your leg?”

“Mild infection but nothing to worry about,” you said, hobbling over to him. 

He instinctively reached out and wrapped an arm around your waist. You were warm underneath his hand, warmer than usual, and you smelled strongly of herbal poultice. He could detect traces of burdock and comfrey, and underneath it all, the smell of you. He took a greedy breath, filling his lungs with proof of your life. “You should be resting. Let us go back inside.”

“I’ve been inside the past week. I’m bored to death,” you grumbled. “Let’s sit outside for a while.”

He helped you to one of the stone benches and you collapsed onto it, hissing in pain. You gingerly stretched your leg out and sighed as you settled. He sat next to you, his eyes lingering on your knee. 

“Oh, stop fussing. It’s quite minor, really.”

“I have seen men succumb to infection from unassuming cuts. I do not think I will rest easy until you are fully healed.”

He followed the line of your leg up to your waist, then shoulders, and along your jaw and lips, up to your nose and eyes. Such beauty, destined to fade, to vanish from the world forever. How could he bear it? How could anyone?

“What is on your mind, my friend?” You asked.

“I was just thinking about the fading nature of men. I do not know how your kind bear it.”

“Death?” You chuckled. “But elves can die too, can they not?”

“Yes, but… it is not in our nature. In peace times, it is very rare for our kind to die. For men… even now, where there is no suffering any longer, you still experience the sting of mortality.” His chest constricted. “How can one stand to behold love and light, knowing it will vanish?”

“It is because they do not last, that we relish in them.”

“Even if it will bring you pain later?”

You smiled, gentle and indulgent, and placed your hand on top of his. His shoulders relaxed at your touch, the tension seeping out of his muscles. He wanted to capture the moment, to bottle it somehow, keep the image of you with the sun on your eyelashes and the feeling of the softness of your skin forever preserved. 

“Yes,” you whispered, “even then.”

Something shifted in his heart, just slightly, and a smile crept onto his face. Yes, he thought, especially then. 

-

“Sam,” you said, surveying the small garden. He had done a good job with it — the shrubs were well trimmed and flowers burst in orange and yellow all around. “Are you certain it will look good?”

He nodded and grinned. “It’ll look real pretty with some candles about. I still remember what it looked like in Lothlorien. We don’t ‘ave the sort of fancy holders and the like, but I’ll do my best.”

You smiled and laid a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know how to thank you for this. I would do it myself but my knee…”

“No thankin’ needed. If anything, I should be thanking you. You brinin’ me those plants and flowers, even when the forest didn’t like you doin’ so.” His eyes fell to your knee. “I’m real sorry it caused you such trouble.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” You chuckled and patted him on the back. You looked around the garden again, trying to imagine the candles and cushions that Sam said he’d arrange for the night time picnic you had planned. “Do you think he’ll like it?”

“I think he’ll love it. Mighty romantic, if I can say.”

You shifted on your feet, stomach suddenly lurching. “What if I’m mistaken, Sam? I’m not sure I could bear the embarrassment.”

The last week or so had been so lovely it had felt like a dream. Nearly every night, Legolas had invited you to sit with him at the top of some tower or parapet. He would point and tell you stories of the stars and of the elves that had come before. There were so many instances where he would lean in close, eyes half-lidded, and talk in a low, murmured tone. You would watch his lips, and watch as he watched yours. But then he would draw back and glance away. 

“The elves are funny folk,” he said with a sigh. “I couldn’t tell you what might be goin’ on in Legolas’ mind, but I doubt he would be spendin’ so much time with you if he didn’t have some… reason to do so. If you catch my meaning.”

“I hope so, Sam. Well, I’ll leave you to it. I need to go to the kitchens to see what cheese and fruit they might be able to spare me.”

He gave you an encouraging smile and with a little wave, you set off downstairs. 

The sun was just setting when Sam called you back to the garden to assess what he had prepared. Candles were dotted all around the courtyard, separated on candelabras and clustered in small groups around the picnic blanket. Plush cushions were laid out and there were little white flowers scattered on the soft wool, perfuming the air with the faint smell of jasmine. 

“Sam,” you gasped. “This is — I cannot —”

“I’ll be takin’ your speechlessness as a compliment?” He smiled shyly and ducked his head. He reached for the picnic basket in your hand and placed it on the blanket. “There, now it’s complete.”

“I’ll repay you for this Sam, I promise.”

He blushed. “Like I said before, there’s no need. Anyway, I best be hurryin’ along. Wouldn’t want Legolas to stumble upon me here and get any wrong ideas.”

You laughed and he vanished back inside. You limped over to the blanket, wincing a little as you lowered yourself, and tried to slow your breathing. Legolas would come, wouldn’t he? What if he took one look at the scene and fled? You shook your head. No, he wouldn’t do that. If you were truly mistaken about his feelings towards you, he would tell you gently and bear you no ill will.

“Mellon nin,” Legolas said from behind you and you turned, heart thumping in your chest. His eyes were wide and a slow smile was spreading across his face. “I received your message. Why have you asked me here?”

You swallowed. Did he not know? “Is it… is it not obvious?”

“I have an inkling, perhaps.” He wandered over, his steps lazy and relaxed, and sank onto the cushions. The tightness in your chest eased a fraction. “But I do not wish to presume what may or may not be in your heart. Will you not give me the truth?”

“Legolas, I…” You cleared your throat. By the Valar, why was it so difficult to speak? He arched an eyebrow at you and you glanced away, speaking more to the picnic basket than to him. “I… care for you. A great deal.”

He took your hand, and you dared to lift your gaze. He beamed at you, and then a flash of mischief entered his eyes. “As a friend?”

You scowled at him. “Do you often plan candlelit picnics for your friends, Legolas?”

He laughed and pressed his lips to the back of your hand. They were soft and warm, his breath hot on your skin. “I am teasing, meleth nin.”

Heat crept up your neck and you tried to withdraw your hand. He held fast and planted a line of kisses up, up, up, from your wrist to your elbow to your shoulder. His eyes were almost sparking in the dim, the dots of candlelight flickering in his dark irises. He kissed your jaw and your nose and your temple before dipping his head to capture your lips.

He kissed slow and languid, as though savouring the feeling of you against him. He tasted tart and sweet, no doubt from the berry and honey biscuits you knew he liked to snack on. The strange tension in your stomach snapped and vanished, and you melted under his touch. His growing smile made you giggle and your teeth knocked against his, making him laugh. 

“I am curious about what you have in that picnic basket of yours,” he murmured. “There will be time for such enjoyment later.”

A flush coloured your cheeks. “I suppose it would be a waste if we simply ignored all the food I prepared.”

“Though, before we continue, I must ask you a question first,” he said, growing grave and serious. His eyes drifted down to your joined hands, and he brushed his thumb over your knuckles. “Could you bear being with me, living with me, when part of my heart is forever owned by the sea?”

You reached up and brushed a stray strand of hair behind his ear. “My love, could you bear to be with me? If you stay, you will fade.”

“It would be a worse fate to live eternity without you,” he whispered. “That I could not bear.”

“Legolas…” It seemed all the more tragic that he, of all people, should die. He was light and joy and the thought of him growing cold and dim wrenched at your heart. “You deserve to… I cannot…”

“I have made my choice, meleth nin. Let us be happy together.” He cupped your cheek, a smile spreading across his face. His eyes were soft, but certain, his touch gentle but sure. He kissed the tip of your nose, chuckling, before he slanted his lips against yours. The kiss was chaste and quick, and all the more sweeter for its casualness. 

“For however long we have,” he murmured, “let us be happy.”

“Alright,” you said. You rested your forehead against his, inhaling his scent, breathing his breath. Yours, for now, for ever. “For however long we have.”

---

ok but what is it about the immortality of elves that has me appreciating/relishing/romanticising our mortal lives. i swear this is the second time ive done this with legolas.

Taglist: @sotwk

#legolas x reader #legolas x y/n #legolas x you #legolas #lotr #lotr fic #lotr fanfic

[achromant]

AND HERE WE ARE! My project for the gw2 'zine!

Featuring Baruhn, reflecting on his life so far, the challenges, the small sparks of joy, the horrors, loss and gain.

For clarification's sake; I did in fact plan to depict every stage of Baruhn's life, but uuh. File was already too big.

Might do a series of short comics (graphic novels?) though, because i fking love storytelling.

Let's look at my idiotic level of detail a bit, eh?

[Long Text Ahead]

Baruhn's story begins in the Plains of Ashford. An unsuccessful attempt to stem the tide of Ascalonian Ghosts leads to the demise of many year-long allies. Dozens of brave soldiers gave their life for a mere week of peace until the ghosts reformed. They always do. Soldiers don't.

Shaken in his faith in the Legions, the first seeds of doubt arise.

Until finally he found someone to trust with his pain. In a tavern at the edge of the Black Citadel, he gets to know this odd fellow, who is continuosly follow by the faint smell of sulfur. Although Baruhn knew where that path led, the warmth radiating from the old veteran in front of him was not only a physical, but an emotional one.

With the Three Legions busy with their internal quarrels, fighting over an empty promise, Baruhn took the first steps down a previously thought to be dark path.

Surprisingly, die Flame Legion was welcoming, their fires offered light and guidance, the embers igniting the skies like stars. Surely this was better than the cold metal over the Black Citadel.

Baruhn took to learning first, handling the small flames with ease after years of throwing fireballs at ghostly shapes. Then, he figured out how to teach, and that is where the real magic comes from. Nurturing a flame, protecting it from harsh winds, adding a bit of kindling and coal here and there. He even taught the more elusive ways of magic that wield smoke and ash.

Baruhn knew about the war, the countless lifes lost on the other side of the fence. But those were humans, and here he was among family.

That is, until he met Molly.

After a small recon mission that was assured not to be much of a hurdle, Baruhn found himself alone in a forest. The small fires he conjured for light and warmth only drew in the nearby villagers. Those with pitchforks and torches, with crude swords and a thirst for blood. He couldn't really bring himself to hate them, this was war after all. But at what cost are these battles to be won?

Trying to escape the villagers was a futile attempt. He sank to the ground, his own hot blood dousing the little flames beneath his weary head.

For some reason - maybe hope, maybe resignation - he forced open his heavy eyes, only to discover his wounds cleaned and bandaged with fragile white cloth. A small human girl, of all things in this damned forest, tried to help. Even in his weakened state, even with just one hand, Baruhn could have easily grabbed her and cracked her skull. But the only thing he did was listen. He listened to the ramblings of the small human, going on and on about faries made of leaves and gnomes of stone. She called him "bear".

When the villagers came, they saw the girl at his side. That was all it took for them to turn on her. She was to be executed like that beast that now slowly stepped in front of her. For the first time, Baruhn spoke to the girl. "close your eyes."

Fire roared, not red, not orange. not a warm, welcoming fire. Not one that belongs in a hearth, that thrives in the arms of a family. This was so much worse. This was years of inner conflict, of doubt, of closing his eyes on the other side of the fence. For the first time in his life, this was the only thing that he wanted to do, protect the little insignificant human behind him. Fire roared, and it burned wood and it burned flesh.

Baruhn picked up the little girl, she held tight to his horns, nestled in his mane. He ran for hours, years of military training finally useful. The little girl, Molly, lost her mother years ago. She burned in the fires of a war she tried to escape. "And your father? What about your family?", he asked between deep breaths. Molly was quiet for a while, then whispered, her voice barely audible, "My father burned today."

They stayed together, for quite a while. He protected her, and she, with her head full of stories, and a book full of dreams, protected him.

Things came, things went. Baruhn rejoined the High Legions, acting as a spy for Ash, keeping an eye on Iron and Blood.

Baruhn ultimately took on his role as Novice, then Archivist, then Commander. He helped during the struggles against Scarlet. A small flame here and there, some shrouding smoke, a well timed lightning strike. It was other people that finally defeated Scarlet, but he was always in the background, with all the small things at just the right time.

Mordremoth came, but with him new allies.

It was but a small tangent in the grand scheme of things. Watching the fragile sapling while waging war on the jungle itself.

Their relation was something more than friendship, something else than love. They were there for each other when they needed to be. Be it only to keep a flame burning or to banish the voices to the back of the head again, they walked the same path for a long time.

Tarir, the Egg. Aurene. A new flame entrusted to him, his to nurture, his to raise. A gamble, again. What if that little flame would some day devour the world? But Baruhn did, what he could do best. Teach.

Darker times came. Caudecus and the White Mantle. The raid on the Mursaat's prison. Then facing the last Mursaat himself.

Balthazar came, and in his wake a new kind of fire. A war, similar to the ones Baruhn had seen before, but still different. A war without a cause, war for war's sake. War against nature, against the world, like a child lashing out when there were none to help them up. Maybe Balthazar's flames were not too different from his.

After the festering swamp that Joko was, came the mountain, Kralkatorrik. Death was not a hindrance anymore, not for the Commander and his dragon. The story went as the story goes.

When it came to face the frost, the whispers, Jormag. Everything fell apart. Jormag pried into the deepest, darkest corners of Baruhn's life, dragged every doubt, small as it may have been, into the light. In the ice, every truth was warped, encased in whispers, in lies. It suffocated any hope and planted even darker seeds than anyone thought possible.

It was the spirit of the Raven that aided Baruhn. Even the black feathers of its wings were shimmering like rainbows in the moonlight.

A small piece stayed with him, just a fragment. Nevermore.

After that, the stars themselves. Astralaria.

So many stories that make a life, so many pieces. Every encounter, every step along the way is another fragment of the whole. People are made of other people, that is what it means to be alive.

#gw2 #guild wars 2 #charr #bit of a long read but nonetheless #thanks for reading <3 #furry art

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐀𝐬 𝐈𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐬 - 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫'𝐬 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

word count: 2.6k

chapter summary: you decide to host a New Year's party and when Joel shows up soaked to the bone thanks to the rain, you lead him to the bathroom to dry him up.

warnings: piv, secret relationship, dirty talk, joel getting really creative with the shower head

a/n: let's just consider this little fic an alternative version of the question "what if the outbreak didn't happen plus tommy still doesn't know about you and joel" Normally he would learn before outbreak day no matter if the outbreak happens or not but I wanted to keep the sneaking around bit for this one soooo

I would also like to thank everyone who has been following the story! Every comment is precious to me and I appreciate it more than you realize. I'm so happy people are still enjoying it, I have big plans for this series and I will be finishing it spring time. I hope the new year brings you all peace and happiness, happy new year everyone!

**divider by the talented @saradika-graphics xx

Rain washes away everything. It washes away the dirt of the street, rejuvenates the drying trees, makes the grass greener. In Austin rain truly is a blessing. Every living thing hungers for it. To you, it symbolizes the new beginnings and the losses. You half listen to the chatter between Olivia and Tommy as you peek out the window, smooth drops cascading down the surface. For some, the rain wasn’t an ideal weather to have during New Year’s, but to you, it only made the atmosphere cozier. 

The crowded party buzzes around you, people laughing, dancing, and sharing stories. You can't help but notice familiar faces from the community seamlessly mingling with Tommy and Olivia's friends, since you were still relatively new you didn’t know many people other than neighbors and asked them to invite people. The room echoes with the joy of New Year's Eve.

It’s been a painful yet surprising year, to say the least. The loss of your grandfather, the unexpected move, the journey to find yourself. . . all of it had been a bit much, a bit daunting. However, as your mind drifts off to the new room in the old house you realize that some things are truly different. You have people who care about you now. You have the Miller’s, Olivia, your art. All in all, it had also been an amazing year. 

The thought makes guilt gnaw at your insides. Tommy still doesn’t know about you and Joel, you were supposed to tell him. . .Joel was supposed to tell him but alas neither of you found the courage to come clean. The past couple of months had been so blissful with him. Neither of you wanted to give that up. 

The faint smell of cinnamon reaches your nose and you find yourself smiling even though you’re only slightly worried. 

Joel’s late. 

“He’s fine,” you hear Tommy whine, turning around you see him rolling his eyes. “He’s a big boy, sweetheart. He’ll be okay in a little bit of rain.” 

Big boy, indeed. 

“Where is he anyway?” Olivia asks, stuffing her mouth full of crackers. 

“He went to drop off Sarah—and there’s plenty of food, you’re not off to war you know. You can eat one at a time.” 

Olivia slapped Tommy’s shoulder and took a seat next to him, “Bit weird she’s not gonna be here with us.” 

“Sarah’s been beggin’ Joel for months. Finally, he caved when she pulled the ‘you know how hard it’s been for me to make friends’ card. Poor man didn’t stand a chance.” 

“So,” you continue, sitting across from them. “They spent Christmas together, just the two of them. That was Joel’s deal. And she’s doing her own laundry for two months.” 

“Damn, I hope the party is worth it.” Olivia gives you a mischievous grin, her eyes lighting up as they meet your gaze. "You know," she starts, leaning in slightly, "I have this friend, Jake. . .” 

You cut her off, "I'm good, Liv. I'm not looking for anything right now."

"Oh, come on! He's sweet, handsome, and he's got a great sense of humor. You two would hit it off."

Your gaze quickly shifts between Tommy and Olivia. His expression tightens ever so slightly, and you catch the subtle change. Olivia, oblivious, or at least choosing to be, continues.

"Just imagine it. A romantic date, a nice dinner, maybe a movie... He’ll treat you right and if he doesn’t I’ll break his arms."

"Liv, really, I appreciate it, but I'm not ready for that kind of thing. Besides, I'm pretty content with how things are right now."

Olivia narrows her eyes. "It’s been a year, you’re ready for one date. Trust me." Then, much to your horror, she turns to Tommy and gestures to you. “Back me up Tommy, isn’t she ready?” 

Tommy clears his throat, looking uncomfortable as ever. He parts his lips and worry knots itself deep in your stomach. 

Luckily, you’re saved by a slightly drunk woman you don’t recognize and let out a break of relief. She situates herself next to Tommy, throwing a hand over his broad shoulder, she pulls him close and whispers something in his ear, fingers playfılly dancing over the fabric of his shirt. Olivia rolls her eyes but honestly, you’re happy and grateful for the distraction. 

You’re saved a second time when the door opens, the sudden sound of rain drawing your attention. You smile instinctively upon seeing Joel, which is a bit rude you figure, because he looks miserable. His leather jacket is dripping, hair sticking to his forehead. Just how hard was it pouring outside? Must’ve picked up when you, Olivia, and Tommy were chatting along. 

Joel, with dropped shoulders and head, spots Tommy first and then you. He makes his way, the defeated walk making him look like a teenager. Tommy bursts out laughing when he sees his older brother, the sound deepens the furrow between Joel’s brows. 

“You look like shit!” Tommy says and you notice Olivia desperately trying to hide her laughter behind her palm. 

“It’s rainin’ cats and dogs you jackass.” Your eyes move up gradually up his body. The rain had darkened the color of his shirt, the flimsy fabric sticking to the planes of his chest. Heat rises to your cheeks. “Is there anythin’ I can burrow sweet tea? Maybe somethin’ that August left behind?” 

“What?” you clear your throat, blinking, you meet his gaze. His knowing smile is enough to set fire between your legs. “Sorry didn’t quite catch that.” 

“Shirt,” he says, lips curling. “Unless you want me drippin’ all over your couch, somethin’ dry would be nice.” He raises a brow when you continue to stare at him, dazed. “Maybe your brother left behind somethin’?” 

Oh god, he’s spelling every word slow and careful meaning he definitely knows you’ve been ogling him. You get up quickly, ignoring the proximity between your bodies, you’d expected him to take a step back but he was as still as stone. You’re like an open book, hopefully, the pretty lady perched next to Tommy is enough to distract him. 

“Yeah, sure,” you answer, breathing a bit heavily. You don’t need to say anything else as you begin to part the crowd, leading him upstairs to the bathroom. You can feel him right behind you, the heat radiating off of him warming your back. 

Finally reaching the bathroom, you push him inside and quickly close the door, leaning against it, you let out a breath. 

However, you don’t get to breathe in when you feel a pair of lips against your own. You shudder as his soaked chest presses against yours, hands cupping your waist, Joel guides your hips towards him. He’s hard as a rock. He swallows the soft voices climbing up your throat and grinds roughly against you. 

“Fuck, honey,” he rasps, dragging his lips to your cheek. “You really know how to get a man goin’.” 

“I didn’t even do anything.” 

“You starin’ at me like you’re about to devour me ain’t nothin’.” he nips at your neck, your body burning at the sharpness. “I’ve missed you too.” 

“Don’t remember saying that,” you tease and thread your finger through the wet locks. “You’re cold.”

“You should warm me up then.” 

You slip your hands under his shirt, not missing the way he shudders against you. He brings his lips back up, only an inch away, but refuses to close the distance. You keep stroking him. Warm palms moving up and down against cold and damp skin. Joel’s forehead drops onto yours. 

“You do realize there’s a party going on outside right? A part that includes your brother, who we are keeping us a secret from.” 

“For someone worried about the crowd you’re doin’ a whole lot to tempt me, darlin’.” he kisses your jaw. “You look beautiful by the way.” 

You’re happy to hear that because he was the only reason why you decided to wear a low-cut shimmering silver dress. You had also opted to wear an almost sheer pair of black stockings underneath, giving your legs a lovely glow.  

“Why thank you, kind sir.” 

“I love it when you call me sir,” he groans and presses harder against you. Your eyes flutter closed but despite it, you can feel his gaze taking in the bathroom. “You fancied up the place quite a bit.” 

A hoarse laughter escapes your throat, “You should thank the crowd downstairs for the fancy towels and the smell of vanilla.” 

“You know. . . now that I’m thinkin’ about it it ain’t fair I’m the only one wet.” 

“Believe me, Joel, I am soaking wet.” 

“That’s not what I meant sunshine,” he gives you a lopsided smile before tugging you towards the tub. “Come’re.”

You wordlessly follow him into the porcelain, your curiosity piqued. His fingertips trace up your waist and find the hidden zipper, slowly, he tugs it down, the sound of it inaudible from the beating of your heart. The dress pools under your knees and your gaze is fixed on him as you step out of the soft fabric. While you’re taking in the sight of his hair curling on his forehead, he takes in the sight of the soft contours of your body. He presses a soft kiss against your stomach, a shudder crawls up your spine. 

“Turn around.” He orders, voice dropping to a whisper. 

“What about my stockings?” 

“I’ll take care of’em.” 

You brace your hand against the wall, sticking your ass out, you smile when you hear the hitch of his breath. His knuckles follow the curve of your spine and a second later you hear a loud rip. 

“Joel—“

“I’ll get you new ones.” You feel him reaching up and at the same time, he slides your panties to the side. He hums. “You are wet.”

“Told you so.”

You hear a soft click, you’re barely able to register the sound as he begins to dip between your folds and stroke. Somehow your brain whispers to you that he’s adjusting the pressure of the shower head. “What are you doing back there?” 

“Remember when you told me how much you enjoyed the different settings when I changed the pipes and the shower head?” You honestly didn’t. “Well, I haven’t, darlin’.” 

He turns on the water, away from you thankfully, but you still tense at how cold it is as it gathers at the bottoms of your feet. 

“I know baby, I know. It’ll get warmer soon.” 

And it does. Your body relaxes, the subtle warmth prompting the arch of your back. Joel gently pushes your legs apart, pushing the shower head between your legs directly onto your—

“Oh god—Joel, fuck—“

“Such a filthy mouth for such a good girl,” he says into your ear. “Bet you’ve done this before sweetheart.” 

You had, well. . . You tried. But it hadn’t felt as good at this. A single forceful stream of insistent water massages your clit. The arousal that pulses between your legs is washed away down your thighs. Without even realizing you start to hold your breath and embarrassingly enough you roll your hips. 

You need more. You need him. 

Your legs part wider, trembling as you try to tell him but instead of sentences needy whimpers echo from your throat. You feel his smile on the back of your neck, teeth scraping your warm skin every time your hips twitch. He starts moving the showerhead and your entire body goes numb. It’s so much but so little at the same time. 

“You’re being loud, sweetheart.” You shake your head, trying desperately to bite back the moans. “But maybe you like the idea of our friends hearing how needy you get for me.” 

You clench at the words, nails scraping against the smooth surface of the wall. 

“Please. . .” 

“Please what?” 

Damn him. 

“Fuck me,” you gasp out. “Fuck me please—I’m. . . I’m going insane.” As if to demonstrate your words, you grind down until the shower head spreads your folds, a groan reverberating in your throat as the water fills every inch. “Just fuck me, give me your cock.” 

“What if I say I want you to come like this?” 

You don’t even think as you answer, “I’ll cry.” 

He stills like the calm before the storm then bursts out laughing. Some logical part of your brain is urging you to shush him, remind him that people might hear but you can’t when he sounds so joyful. His deep voice full of life. 

“Fine, sweet tea, you win. Wouldn’t want you to cry durin’ New Year’s.” 

Joel turns off the water and you turn, facing him as he does. His eyes widen when you cup his cheeks, he’s so warm now, so soft from the steam. “Let’s head to my bedroom,” you mutter. “Auggie’s spare clothes are there anyway.” 

His hands softly land on your hips, thumbs moving over the waistband of your stockings. “You sure?” 

“I want to see you when you bury yourself into me.” 

That’s all he needs to hear before dragging you out of the bathroom. You both hurry, the sound of the party still lively downstairs. Luckily your bedroom is close to the bathroom so there isn’t much risk as you follow him out half naked, your sparkling dress in hand. 

As soon as you both enter the bedroom, his lips are on yours, pushing you towards the bed until the back of your knees hits the edge and you fall. He follows your dive, his weight pleasant on top of you. 

Feeling numb with want, you quickly tug his shirt off of him, and his hands fumble with his belt. Joel doesn’t even bother to take his pants off completely. He frees himself with one hand and pushes in without a word. You both moan, mouths inches apart from each other. Neither of you breaks away from the eye contact. It’s so intimate like this. Your cheeks burning at how naked you feel having him witness the parting of your lips, the flutter of your gaze. 

You feel so full, so complete. The slow drag of his cock making you see starts every time he presses forward, brushing against something devastating inside you with every move. Tears gather in your lashes and he kisses them away. Then he drags his lips down to your neck, sucking at nipping. Your breath catches in your throat, your back arching as you clench around him. He groans into your skin, thrusts becoming shallow and quick. 

“I’m not gonna last, honey,” he rasps. “Tell me where.” 

Just as he says that his hand slides between your bodies, finding your throbbing clit. He draws quick circles, your muscles constricting immediately. At the very last second Joel covers your mouth with his own, muffling your cry as you gush around him, insides twitching and pulsing. He swallows the sounds hungrily. “Where?” he growls against your lips. 

“On my pussy,” you gasp. “Want to feel you there.” 

He tugs at your bottom lip with his teeth before moving away, you spread your legs further, pushing yourself apart with two fingers. Your mouth waters at the sight of him. His hand wrapped tightly around his cock as he strokes himself. It doesn’t take him long to come undone. Your eyes roll when you feel it. The vicious spurt of his come, the way it drips. It feels like it lasts forever. He comes and comes and comes— painting you with his seed. 

When he’s done, he slips his softening cock back inside, pushing himself deeper into you. You both whimper in unison, and he nuzzles the crook of your neck.  You begin to play with the ends of his hair, nails scratching the back of his neck. 

“Happy New Year, Joel.” 

“Happy New Year, sweet tea.” 

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #tommy miller x reader #stay in bed new years special #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfic

[animehideout]

Your MBTI, Your Relationship With JJK Characters Part 1

a/n: I had this random idea, describing what relationship you would have with JJK Characters depending on your MBTI, in my opinion ofc, so it's not necessarily true!! 🫶🏻

Requests are open 💌

( ISFJ + INTJ )

PART 2

ISFJ:

Yuuji Itadori = Boyfriend

Like the sun and the moon, you both complete each other. He consistently admires your dedication to protect him and prioritize his well-being. He's the type who cares for others more than himself so finding someone ( You ) who places him first, warms his heart and makes him feel special. He often encourages you to step out of your comfort zone. Yuuji brings enthusiasm that lights up your world, and infuses joy into your life. In return, you bring peace and tranquility and comfort (100% your relationship would last forever).

Megumi Fushiguro = Soulmate.

Both of you share many qualities making you almost identical. The most prominent one is your dedication to protect others and loved ones and that what drew you closer and formed your soulmate bond. Your bond is full of strong sense of loyalty support and commitment, always having each other's backs. Together you maintain a balanced atmosphere. Your bond remains entirely platonic.

Choso Kamo = Bestfriend

He considers you as a family member. You don't need words to understand each other, you spend a lot of time together so it became easy for you to read each other like an open book. Comfortable silence is cherished given your shared quiet nature. You always make sure to make each other feel included in everything whether they are family gatherings or normal hangouts. You always stand by each other through highs and lows. You serve as his emotional support and you find in him a thoughtful listener. Fostering a sense of balance in your relationship.

Mahito = Enemy

Both of you are extreme opposites, you live to protect and he lives to kill. You have an intense and hostile relationship. Mahito always has to provoke and trigger you somehow targeting your loved ones. He craves violence and he thinks you're the best opponent to have a brutal duel with. Your fights are always driven by hatred from your side and amusement from Mahito's side. Both of you always try to sabotage each other's efforts, you strive to maintain a safe environment and Mahito works on creating constant chaos tension and threat.

INTJ:

Geto Suguru = Boyfriend

Suguru is an INTJ himself, so it's like finding your other half. You have a unique and intellectual dynamics. Your relationship built on shared interests and goals and mutual appreciation of each other's qualities. Despite being independent and self-reliant you managed to create a strong bond based on encouragement, pushing each other forward to reach your goals.

Ryomen Sukuna = Enemy

You and Sukuna are alike but you lead the good side while he leads the dark side. He takes the whole rivalry thing personal, as much as he hates you and tries to kill you whenever he grasps the chance he still has a lot of respect for you. In fights both you and Sukuna always try to assert dominance. Whenever you are in the same place everyone around can feel the suffocating tension making everyone feel and unsafe. You share the same qualities however you use them to help people and Sukuna uses them to break people.

Yuta Okkotsu = Ex-boyfriend

INTJ's logical and rational thinking clashes with Yuta's emotional needs he is an emotionally dependent person who inserts feelings most of the time almost in everything. But you always depend on the power of mind overshadowing your emotions. The clash of needs results in misunderstanding leading you to break up but you're still good friends though.

Megumi Fushiguro = Bestfriend

You are the quiet and composed duo. Both of you enjoy each other's presence silently, while sitting in a comfortable silence. When you are in the mood for a discussion you often engage in intellectual chats. You enjoy staying inside doing indoor activities like reading or cooking. Hanging out together is a free therapy for both of you.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen masterlist #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #sukuna headcanons #toji headcanons #mbti types #mbti personality types #mbti #intj #infj personality #gojo satoru headcanons #geto suguru x reader #geto smut #geto x reader #jjk men #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk headcanons #jjk toji #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #itadori yuji x you #itadori yuji x reader #jjk itadori #gojo satoru smut

[devilevlls]

Hello! Hope you have a great day🫶 and may i req a number 1 SFW with diavolo please?:D

Hello!

Thank you for the request! Here's the quick drabble with the prompt, hope you enjoy! 💜

Our secret garden 𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚

Gender-Neutral MC༘ ⋆｡˚

Diavolo finds out that you love the nature and misses the human world atmosphere, so he decides it’s time to give you a special place in devildom.

Diavolo, the heir of Devildom throne, was known for his power and influence, but few knew of the tender heart that beat beneath his powerful exterior.

Today was a particularly special day for him as he found out about MC's love for nature. The thought of bringing joy to the human’s heart filled him with a sense of purpose and excitement.

With meticulous care, Diavolo began planning the surprise. He summoned his most skilled artisans and gardeners, instructing them to create a secret oasis unlike anything the Devildom had ever seen. He envisioned a place filled with vibrant colors, fragrant flowers, and the soothing sounds of nature—a sanctuary where MC could escape the chaos of their world and the house of lamentation, where they could be together and enjoy each other's company without interruptions.

As the day of the surprise arrived, Diavolo's heart raced with anticipation. Dressed in his finest attire, he made his way to MC, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "MC!!" he said, his voice warm and gentle, "I have a special surprise for you. Would you care to accompany me?" His eyes were sparkling with excitement, almost like a little child ready to show off their piece of art.

Curiosity flickered in the human's eyes as they nodded, intrigued by Diavolo's mysterious demeanor, it wasn’t something usual of him. Hand in hand, they ventured through the perfectly cleaned halls of the palace, guided by Diavolo's steady lead. Today was different, since his butler Barbatos wasn’t accompanying him.

“Uh… Where’s lord Barbatos?” They ask, looking at the prince as they walk side by side.

“The place I’m going to show you is a secret, so he won’t be accompanying us.” He smiles.

Finally, they reached the entrance to the secret oasis. Diavolo's heart swelled with pride as he watched MC's eyes widen in wonder at the sight before them. The air was alive with the scent of blossoms, and a rainbow of flowers stretched out before them in a breathtaking display, some delicate butterflies flying around.

"It's... it's beautiful," MC breathed, their voice filled with awe, taking every detail of the place. The human's eyes fills with water, joy crashing over them.

Diavolo couldn't help but smile at the sight of MC's joy. "I'm glad you like it," he said softly, his gaze never leaving theirs. "I wanted to create a place where you could find peace and happiness, I imagine being the exchange student and having to adapt to our world can be challenging."

Touched by his empathy, they turned to him, gratitude shining in their eyes. "Thank you, lord Diavolo," they said, voice filled with emotion. "This means more to me than words can express." The human slowly approaches the big demon and gives him a gentle hug, burying their face on his chest.

At that moment, as they stood together in between the beauty of the oasis, surrounded by the colors of nature, Diavolo felt a warmth spread through his chest—a feeling he knew would stay with him forever, even when they were no longer there.

“This is our secret garden, darling…” He whispers, embracing them in a tight hug.

Drabble prompts you can use in your requests!

#obey me #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me one master to rule them all #evllsposts #evllsasks #obey me diavolo #om diavolo #diavolo obey me #obey me diavolo x reader #obey me diavolo x mc #obey me fluff #obey me drabble #obey me writing #obey me scenarios

[curtsbigspoon]

thoughts on how buck and bucky would end up kissing and/or hooking up for the first time? what would lead up to it, who would make the first move etc <3

I feel like it would have to be either after a rough mission, or a successful one.

First one could be that the grief and loss has worn everyone down, John and Gale are trying to understand their place in it all, to cope with the fact it could be one of them next. 

Gale is more reserved about his anxiety, doesn’t show it publicly, has to be a leader for everyone. John is more likely to get physically antsy, tries to find the positives in it all because he’s still got Gale. 

It feeds off on everyone, able to find hope despite their fears.

Gale’s never been more relieved at John’s glass half full type of energy, feeling less burdened by the weight of pressure.

But John confronts him one night, he’s a little more drunk than he should be, but it’s the only way to find his strength.

He crowds Gale against a wall, his lips pulled tight, pressing his forehead to their shoulder, bottom lip jutted out and trembling. 

Gale feels it then, what he’s been hiding, brings his hand to John’s shoulder and tries to rub him there reassuringly.

John voices his fears, lifts his head, Gale sees how wet they’ve grown. 

“It’s gonna be alright,” Gale murmurs, and he tries to smile, ducking his head slightly. “We’re gonna be alright.”

John swallows, feels a lot of things in the moment, isn’t sure what any of them are.

Not until he brings his hand up, cupping it again Gale’s cheek, surging forward to press their lips together in something that’s too messy, teeth clacking against one another, almost bumping noses.

But Gale doesn’t run from it, just stands there shocked, feels his eyes widen before John pulls away from him. 

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he whispers, but there’s no menace to his tone, no real rejection to back up his words.

John catches it, and he steps back, nodding his head. 

“Yeah, I shouldn’t have… Too bad I’m about to do it again anyways.”

Right well I should probably say now it wasn’t supposed to turn into that but, I’d feel bad ridding y’all of the extra content so I’ll let it stay.

The other option is much more cheerier!

They’re probably together in the hall, music’s blasting, people are dancing, John and Gale are at each other’s sides as always.

John’s especially taken by the thrill of it all, can’t stop smiling, finding ways to chime in with singing, or patting his comrades on the back whenever they walk back.

Gale’s just smiling, sometimes he grins a little more with teeth, feels the world sweep away from him. 

It might just be one night, but they’re making it his, they’re taking the victory and using it as means to inspire how successful the future could be. 

After all their hard work they deserve it.

John probably saunters back, hooks his arm around Gale, leans real close. 

“Come with me?”

“You need an escort now?”

“I might, you don’t want me wandering off on my own tonight, do you?”

Even though he tries to hold meaning to the theat, the smile spilling over his cheeks shows he’s just trying to get his way.

Gale gives into him anyways, follows him outside, lets him smoke his cigar and leans his head back against the wall to take in the stars.

The world feels at peace for a little while, no fights or fires above, just laughter and joy and beer.

John catches his gaze, follows it with a grin, nudges his arm into him.

“Don’t get too lost in the clouds, Gale. I need you down here with me.”

“I’m always down here with you.”

John laughs at that, thinks it’s the funniest, sighs and leans his head back to join Gale’s observations.

“I don’t plan on letting you go anywhere anytime soon, you can count on that.”

Gale laughs too, something easy and sweet.

John tilts his head towards the blond, leans close to murmur something, and Gale turns in time to catch their lips almost touching.

It stops them both, John’s lips parted and ready to usher words, Gale’s closed and ready to listen - but they split apart when they notice how close John is.

“I don’t plan on going anywhere,” Gale whispers, thinks it’ll spark them both back to normalcy. 

It doesn’t, if anything it halts John further in his tracks, and then his eyes dip.

Gale doesn’t have time to warn him not to be too hasty, to tell him he should move in case someone comes out and sees them so close. 

John’s lips on his force him into silence, everything else falls away, and his cheeks warm under the attention before he gently prods John back.

“Someone could have seen,” he warns, and something about it makes John smile.

Gale’s slightly appalled at his lack of consideration or care regarding the matter until John continues.

“Next time I’ll be more careful.”

Fuck. I ended up yapping again. Okay so I could honestly see it going different ways but I wound up writing two very specific scenarios, sorry bout that one. If you want different like perspectives in the future lemme know.

And, uh, hope you enjoyed??

#masters of the air #mota #but gay #austin butler #callum turner #john egan #gale cleven #buckbucky #buck x bucky #john x gale #clegan #buck cleven #bucky egan #curtsbigspoonyaps

[jacks347]

I feel like hurting people so let's talk about Redacted characters fatal flaws.

David - Obligation

I was originally going to say David's flaw was loyalty but I thought that was too surface level so I dug a little deeper and found something a bit more important. David carries a heavy weight of obligation on his shoulders. He runs the pack and the security company because it's what his dad would've wanted, he works to keep the pack going because people depend on him, he only met Angel cause Caelum made him. Everything in his life is because of feels obligated to keep said things going. He didn't want to be in this situation, he doesn't want to have to work as hard as he does but he knows he has to in order to maintain everything his father left him. David takes on so much because he thinks he has to and that kind of weight will crush him eventually. He's pulling himself in so many directions, something has to give. To put it in his own words, one of these times when he throws himself at the wall it won't be the thing that breaks.

Asher - Optimism

Asher, you sweet sweet bean, your joy will be the thing that destroys you. Asher has the Polites problem (see, I know Greek characters) in where his optimism is the thing that drives the group into a far more dangerous situation. Asher's hopeful belief that they could get through the Inversion almost got him killed. He is the sunshine character, he's the one that everyone expects to be happy, he holds the morale of the pack on his shoulders and that kind of pressure would be enough to make anyone crack. How long will it be until the happy-go-lucky attitude snaps under the weight?

Milo - Dedication

It's easy to say Milo is loyal to a fault. It's hard to say he has a gravely misplaced sense of dedication. Milo feels he has something to prove, he always has. Prove to himself and the rest of the pack that he's useful, he has a place, he has a purpose in this pack. Milo has dedicated his life to proving his worth and that dedication to a harmful cause will be the thing that kills him. Hell, it already almost did. If another event like the Inversion happens, he might not make it out.

Sam - Independence

Sam is an interesting case because his need to be independent won't kill him physically as much as it will mentally. He has worked so hard to make sure other people's actions don't define him that he instinctively isolates himself. He keeps everyone at arm's length so that if and when they do something that hurts the people around them, he won't be caught in the blast radius. But that changes when he meets Darlin, someone who also keeps people at arm's length and doesn't let anyone get close. There's an argument to be made in how Sam seems himself in Darlin and that's why he felt so inclined to help them (beyond just hating Quinn) but not the point I'm making. Sam runs from problems before they can affect him and when the pack dies, he'll be stuck in a problem he can't run from. Sam may not die after the pack is gone but he will fade into the background. Sam will be lost in time, clinging to memories of a time that he let people in as those too eventually fade into the aether of history.

Vincent - Naivety

I heavily considered giving Vincent independence as his fatal flaw too cause it very well could be but we don't do doubles in this house and there is a far more deadly flaw in him and that's his naivety. Vincent is blind to his situation, he doesn't understand most of it because he's been shielded from it. He lacks understanding of what it really means to be a vampire, let alone one in such a well known house. And it's in that where we see his mistake with Lovely. Vincent turned Lovely without fully understanding his own place and therefore doesn't understand the responsibilities he's putting onto Lovely by bringing them into it. It's the blind leading the blind. This lack of real understanding I think will be what tears him apart.

Porter - Peace

Now, this one is hard to explain. How is peace a fatal flaw? Rather simply, actually. You find peace in a situation that you choose not to change. Porter is William's guard dog because he doesn't feel like he deserves to be anything more. He does as asked because he thinks it's all he good for. He had made his peace with the fact that he believes he's not worth anything more than the blood he can spill. Which is wrong and flawed. And it's in that peace in the situation he doesn't believe he deserves to change that will get him killed. If he doesn't convince himself he's worth more than this, it'll be the thing that does him in.

Gavin - Humanity

Gavin's sense of humanity may not necessarily kill him but it will cause an untold amount of pain. Gavin has distanced himself so far from the world of demons in order to choose his own path and be who he is that he's forgotten this world isn't his. Elegy owes him nothing and it'll give him as much. It's the immortal lover problem, he will survive long after Freelancer and the others are gone and it will break him. I've mentioned before that Gavin and Porter are two sides of the same character but what's interesting is how their stories seem to be going in opposite directions until they eventually switch places. When Gavin loses the people that give him a sense of humanity, he will fall to what he believes he has to be in order to survive while Porter is learning that he can be more than what's expected of him and will hold that sense of pride I believe long after Treasure is gone.

Escaped, you're next. Prepare.

#honestly this was a lot of fun #twas a good thought experiment #because it forces you to look at the entirety of a character's story #look at the big picture #more to come #pinky promise #asmr roleplay #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redacted david #redacted asher #redacted milo #redacted sam #redacted vincent #redacted porter #redacted gavin #redacted shaw pack #redacted solaire clan #redacted damn crew

[nightswatchdisbandmentera]

I'm thinking about how "cripples and bastards and broken things" isn't just about compassion shared between those who have been systematically othered. Because at its core, it's driven by love. Brotherly love. It starts with Jon who loved his brother Bran so purely and unconditionally that upon receiving news of his survival, was wholly preoccupied with Bran's mere living.

“Crippled,” Mormont said. “I’m sorry, boy. Read the rest of the letter.” He looked at the words, but they didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Bran was going to live. “My brother is going to live,” he told Mormont. The Lord Commander shook his head, gathered up a fistful of corn, and whistled. The raven flew to his shoulder, crying, “Live! Live!” Jon ran down the stairs, a smile on his face and Robb’s letter in his hand. “My brother is going to live,” he told the guards. They exchanged a look. He ran back to the common hall, where he found Tyrion Lannister just finishing his meal. He grabbed the little man under the arms, hoisted him up in the air, and spun him around in a circle. “Bran is going to live!” he whooped. Lannister looked startled. Jon put him down and thrust the paper into his hands. “Here, read it,” he said.

(Jon III, AGOT)

In fact it's his unbridled joy that helps Jon make peace with the rest of the NW recruits, something he had been struggling with for an entire chapter.

And it's this love that leads him to entreat Tyrion and ask for his help later on. He can give Rickon material possessions and pass on boasting words to Robb, but he's quite at a loss as to how he can help Bran. He only recognizes, and empathizes, that Bran does indeed need some sort of help. But it's here that he realized that though material possessions won't do much for his brother, his love can go a long way. He can't give Bran all the things in his chamber as he did for Rickon, but he can give him love.

“Rickon can’t read yet. Bran …” He stopped suddenly. “I don’t know what message to send to Bran. Help him, Tyrion.” “What help could I give him? I am no maester, to ease his pain. I have no spells to give him back his legs.” “You gave me help when I needed it,” Jon Snow said. “I gave you nothing,” Tyrion said. “Words.” “Then give your words to Bran too.”

And Tyrion recognizes this

“You’re asking a lame man to teach a cripple how to dance,” Tyrion said. “However sincere the lesson, the result is likely to be grotesque. Still, I know what it is to love a brother, Lord Snow. I will give Bran whatever small help is in my power.”

(Tyrion III, AGOT)

Though Tyrion is skeptical, Jon's love for Bran does push him to act. And he no doubt relates as he too has a brother whom he loves dearly. So when he finally presents himself before Winterfell's court and is met with hostility, he uses this love to make his case.

“Will I truly be able to ride?” Bran asked. He wanted to believe them, but he was afraid. Perhaps it was just another lie. The crow had promised him that he could fly. “You will,” the dwarf told him. “And I swear to you, boy, on horseback you will be as tall as any of them.” Robb Stark seemed puzzled. “Is this some trap, Lannister? What’s Bran to you? Why should you want to help him?” “Your brother Jon asked it of me. And I have a tender spot in my heart for cripples and bastards and broken things.” Tyrion Lannister placed a hand over his heart and grinned.

(Bran IV, AGOT)

We've seen Tyrion use japes to bring himself out of awkward situations. Yet when his intentions are questioned here, he chooses instead to use the truth to advocate for himself. In this tense moment, Tyrion uses a brother's love (Jon's and his own) as his shield.

#asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #jon snow #bran stark #tyrion lannister #my stuff

[zapreportsblog]

Sukuna’s Godly Husband

➥ summary : Yumi (M/n) had originally been offered up to the King of Curses, Sukuna as a sacrificial bride for his people so that they may be spared. In other words he was a lamb waiting to be slaughtered but something unexpectedly happened the King of Curses Sukuna took the human in to his temple and under the engraved stone walls, Yumi (M/n) had been declared the bride of Sukuna, forced to bare his marking on his shoulder and stripped of his human name.

➥ chapter 5: The Blossoming Sanctuary

Within the confines of Sukuna's domain, an unlikely request stirred the stillness that permeated the air. Yael, the king of curses' male sacrificial bride, approached Sukuna with a timid yet hopeful expression, a desire brimming in his eyes.

"Sukuna," Yael began, his voice soft yet filled with determination. "I would like to have a garden."

Sukuna, the formidable king of curses, regarded Yael with a mixture of surprise and amusement. He had never expected such a request from his sacrificial bride, for gardens held no place within his realm of darkness and chaos. Yet, the earnestness in Yael's gaze compelled him to consider the plea.

"Why would you desire a garden, Yael?" Sukuna inquired, his tone tinged with both curiosity and skepticism. "Within these walls, you have everything you could possibly need. A garden seems unnecessary."

Yael's expression fell, a shadow of disappointment crossing his features. "I understand, Sukuna," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "But I wanted something that could tie me to my village, a reminder of the world I left behind. A garden could bring me a sense of peace, of connection to the earth."

Sukuna's servant, who had been observing the exchange, stepped forward, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. "Perhaps, my lord, it would be wise to grant Yael's request," he suggested. "Denying him may lead to unforeseen consequences. Remember, a happy bride is a content bride."

Sukuna regarded his servant for a moment, contemplating the implications of his words. While he held the power of life and death over Yael, he recognized the importance of maintaining the human's happiness. Relenting, he finally nodded in agreement.

"Very well, Yael," Sukuna conceded, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. "I shall grant you a garden. But remember, it shall be your responsibility to tend to it."

A spark of joy ignited within Yael's eyes as he bowed in gratitude. "Thank you, Sukuna," he exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine appreciation. "I promise to care for it with all my heart."

True to his word, Sukuna set his formidable power to work, shaping the very essence of his domain to accommodate Yael's desire. Within the confines of their shared space, a garden began to take shape—a sanctuary where nature's beauty could flourish. Sukuna spared no detail, weaving a tapestry of vibrant colors and fragrant blossoms that mirrored Yael's vision.

When the garden was complete, Sukuna presented it to Yael as a surprise, guiding him to the secluded corner of his domain. As Yael beheld the sight before him, his eyes widened with awe and wonder. Lush foliage, adorned with an array of flowers, spread out before him, each petal shimmering with life. It was a tapestry of nature's wonders—a testament to Sukuna's meticulous attention to detail.

Overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of the garden, Yael turned to Sukuna, his voice filled with joy. "Sukuna, it's more beautiful than I could have ever imagined," he exclaimed, his words laden with heartfelt gratitude.

Sukuna observed Yael's reaction with a sense of pride, the corners of his lips curling into a rare smile. "I am glad it brings you joy, Yael," he replied, his voice softer than usual. "May it serve as a reminder of the world you left behind, and as a sanctuary where you can find solace amidst the chaos that surrounds us."

As Yael explored his newly bestowed garden, he marveled at Sukuna's detailed knowledge of the flora that flourished within. Sukuna surprised him with stories of each flower's significance and its connection to the human realm—a testament to his unspoken dedication to Yael's happiness. With each step, Yael felt an invisible thread connecting him to his village, bridging the gap between his past and present.

Overflowing with joy, Yael couldn't contain his gratitude any longer. He approached Sukuna, his arms reaching out for an embrace. Though the size difference between them was significant, Yael's emotions propelled him forward, wrapping his arms around Sukuna's waist in a heartfelt embrace.

Sukuna stood still for a moment, his usual stoic demeanor momentarily softened by Yael's gesture. He hesitated, his large hand gingerly resting on Yael's head, as if uncertain of how to reciprocate the embrace. But then, with a rare display of vulnerability, Sukuna's hand moved, gently caressing Yael's hair, a silent gesture of affection and acceptance.

In that moment, as Yael clung to Sukuna, a surge of warmth filled his being. It was a reminder that amidst the darkness and the trials they faced, there existed a fragile bond—a connection forged through unlikely circumstances. Together, they stood in the sanctuary of the garden, enveloped by the beauty that bloomed around them, their souls entwined in a delicate dance of understanding and acceptance.

As the days passed, Yael tended to the garden with unwavering dedication, his heart filled with a sense of purpose. With each touch of the earth, he found solace and connection to the world he had left behind. And as the flowers blossomed under his care, their vibrant hues mirrored the ever-growing bond between Yael and Sukuna—a testament to the enduring power of love and the transformative nature of acceptance.

In the depths of Sukuna's domain, amidst the shadows and the chaos, a garden had taken root—a testament to the union between the king of curses and his male sacrificial bride. It was a sanctuary that held the echoes of Yael's past and the promise of a shared future—a reminder that even in the darkest of places, beauty could thrive, and love could bloom against all odds.

#sukuna x reader #x reader #sukuna x male reader #x male reader #x reader series #sukuna godly husband #sukuna’s godly husband series #sukuna #Sukuna’s Godly Husband masterlist #jujutsu kaisen masterlist

[thedrarrylibrarian]

hello! bit of a specific request but would you know of any fics that feature draco & harry exchanging snarky letters (for whatever purpose- their jobs or teddy or anything really) that get progressively less snarky and more exasperatedly affectionate? fic doesn't have to be only featuring their letters, but like initially at least the exchanges between draco & harry are solely via post

Is there anything more romantic than taking the time to write a letter? Even if it is sent out of annoyance, you had to take time to find pen and paper, sit and write your thoughts, sign off and sign your name, then find postage and send it.

I hope you enjoy these epistolary (one of my favorite words) fics. And if you feel up to it, send a friend a letter for the joy of it.

Epistolary

Mislaid Owl Post by (801 words, rated G) by @thelionessroyal

A trainee owl keeps bringing letters to Hogwarts Potions Master Draco Malfoy instead of their intended recipients, leading to a rather annoyed Malfoy and amused Potter sending letters back and forth. Maybe they should thank the poor owl for his efforts...

Yours, Draco by @drarrytrash (3,505 words, not rated)

All that's left are 15 letters, and then those are gone too.

I Just Want You to Know by @crazybutgood and @sugareey-makes-stuff (3,949 words, rated T)

After a Potions accident leaves Harry and Draco without a verbal filter, they have no choice but to communicate with each other through letters. Forced to work together to catch up and complete their Potions project on time, secrets they have both been withholding eventually spill out along the way.

Famous Last Words by drarrymadhatter and @ladderofyears (6,298 words, rated M)

When unsigned love letters addressed to him begin spontaneously appearing around the castle, Draco is not amused. In an effort to make them stop - or at least to make them stop appearing in public places with permanent sticking charms - he writes back.

Handling Snakes by @potter-loves-malfoy (7,074 words, rated T)

Draco Malfoy is content with his life as a psychologist in the Muggle world. Sure, the tube is a nightmare, and it would be nice to use magic without worrying about being discreet, but it's good for the most part. When he starts treating a client for their fear of snakes, he realizes that his safe, comfortable, Muggle life won't be that way for long. It really doesn't help that he might have a slight aversion to snakes. There's no avoiding it now; he needs Harry Potter. Only for his snakes, of course.

To Auld Acquaintance by @cavendishbutterfly, @corvuscrowned, @sorrybutblog, @fictional (8,326 words, rated T)

After Draco returns from a stint in Paris, neither Harry nor Draco seem to know how to talk to each other. As usual, they make it literally everyone else's problem.

Featuring: texts, letters, emails, and further shenanigans.

Per my last letter (I hope you choke on it) by @fluxweeed and @lastontheboat (10,258 words, rated T)

Dear Mr Potter, The answer is, and will remain, a no.

Sincerely, Draco Malfoy Accounts Manager, Phoenix Press

How to Fool Your Friends (And Get a Boyfriend in the Process ) by @famoustruth and @orpheous87 (10,332 words, rated T)

Fed up with their friends trying to set them up, Harry and Draco decide to pretend to be a couple in public. They plan their every move through their letters, but what they didn't plan for were the very real feelings that make themselves known.

Yours Truly by @skeptiquewrites (14,848 words, rated M)

Every single one of Harry’s exes has gone on to marry the next person they date, and with the upcoming nuptials of numbers six and seven to each other, Harry’s feeling exhausted by it all. It doesn’t really matter if he lets people assume Draco Malfoy is his boyfriend for a moment of peace. In any case, Draco’s been away for five years and there’s no way he would find out, right?

There are many benefits to being a marine biologist by @tedahfromtayla (19,088 words, rated T)

There is something about Harry that constantly calls Draco back to Britain. No matter how far he tries to run, he can't outrun his stubborn heart, or the history of his family.

Bonne Foi, Draco Malfoy by @badwolfblues (19,399 words, rated E)

At twenty-five, Draco Malfoy has to return to England to do something about the Manor, and Harry Potter won’t leave him alone. His years-old crush on Potter is reignited over repairs, mermaid lemonades, and pocket owl messages.

Butterflies in Winter by Justlikewriting (19,725 words, rated M)

Of course Harry had known that Malfoy’d been sent to Azkaban, but, to be honest, since the trials Harry hadn’t really thought of the git at all anymore. A random visit to Slug and Jiggers was about to drastically change that, though.

And whose exactly were those letters that Harry found there?

Dear Stranger by @iero0 (22,751 words, rated T)

The one thing more pointless than falling in love with an anonymous wizard over a correspondence is falling in love with Harry Potter when you’re Draco Malfoy.

*Check out the Happy Hour rec of this fic by @ladderofyears

All Things Go by @sorrybutblog (32,826 words, rated E)

Draco’s back at Hogwarts by court order. Harry’s back for no particular reason at all. Some things change, some stay the same. Neither expects to spend eighth-year living in close quarters, playing rugby (poorly), staying up late, sneaking around, and finally figuring it all out.

The Art of Thank You Notes by fictionclaw (82,232 words, rated E)

A few years after the war, Harry receives a ministry notice that Draco Malfoy’s house arrest will soon be lifted and that the wand he has kept may be sent to the ministry. He doesn’t think much of it when he sends the wand directly to Malfoy Manor with a note.

But one letter swiftly follows another and Malfoy sneaks his way into Harry's every day life without either of them minding.

Or; Harry and Draco find reasons to write letters to each other and Black heirlooms and family histories are uncovered while they figure out why that is. Lunch dates, careful friendship, confusing feelings and Draco's art included.

Save the Date by @mallstars (122,954 words, rated E)

In the twelve years after the war, Harry attends sixteen weddings. As friends and acquaintances vow their lives to one another, he watches quietly from the sidelines. Step by step, Harry pieces himself back together, builds a life from the wreckage of his past and falls, slowly and thoroughly, for Draco Malfoy.

A story told in sixteen parts, of patient and transformative love, of queerness, of reaching out and holding on. Featuring plenty of pining, Gilderoy Lockhart getting married in a fever dream of glitter and product placement, and Rita Skeeter spitting a steady stream of venom at Harry and Draco's every move.

❤️ As always, if you find a fic you enjoy, please remember to leave the author a kudos or a comment! ❤️

#drarry fic rec list #drarry rec list #drarry recs #drarry #drarry fics #harry potter #draco malfoy #harry x draco #thedrarrylibrarian #the drarry librarian #harry potter x draco malfoy #draco malfoy x harry potter #draco x harry #harry potter/draco malfoy #draco malfoy/harry potter #harry/draco #draco/harry #epistolary #letter writing

[arc-misadventures]

In the dragon Faunus au, what Adam up to or is it eve in this au?

The Splintering

Upon a stage before a throng of faunas strode one, Adam Tauras: He was called many things by his enemies: radical, extremest, terrorist. But, to his fellow faunas he was much more than the lies they spread about him; for he was a leader, an equalist, a hero!

Adam: Brothers, and sisters of the, White Fang! Here is our would be king! The supposed dragon faunas. This human in sheep’s clothing’s… But, do not take that as a note of disdain towards him. For he possesses many faunas traits, unlike use who posses one trait, with some minor additional sub-traits. Jaune Arc, the Dragon King possesses five unique traits! An elongated tongue, and retractable fangs that can bite through solid metal! Retractable talons hidden within his hands, the ability to breath fire. And, based upon the reports of our field operative, his majesty is currently in the process of growing horns, these are no doubt to become a crown that signifies his rank among all faunas. As our king!

Adam: Now, many of you have no doubt heard that his majesty has made contact with, Kali Belladonna, and High Leader Khan. They are no doubt trying to sway his grace towards their side. A side of human lovers…

Angry jeers, and cries of outrage echoed throughout the hall. Some even spitting in disgust on the floor at this revolting piece of news.

Adam: I know! I know brothers, and sisters that is grave news. But, worry not! For we will not allow this to stand! For the glory of the faunas, and for the glory of our future king! All shall see the true might of the faunas! For we shall send our most valuable assists to meet with his grace, and tell him the true might of the faunas!

As, Adam step back, a pair of fox faunas step forward, one with a tail, and another with a set of ears. The Albain Brothers, Fennec, and Corsac Albain.

Fennec: Brothers, and sisters we bring forth tidings of great joy; The legend is true: The Dragon King is among us!

The crowd cheered, and howled as the news echoed throughout the crowd.

Corsac: Legends for told of his, Majesty coming, for his arrival will bring forth a golden age for all of, Remnant, and more importantly, a better age for all faunas!

Fennec: His, Majesty may have aligned himself with the more… peaceful faction of the, White Fang. But, my brother, and I shall be heading to, Beacon Academy to tell him of the glory of the faunas, so that he will know how to lead all faunas to a brighter future!

Corsac: We must move swiftly before others dig their filthy claws into his, Majesty, and spread lies to him! But, worry not brothers, and sisters, for we shall set them right!

FC: For the glory of the Faunas!

Adam: FOR THE GLORY OF THE FAUNAS!!!

The crowd cheered, chanting, ‘Glory to the Faunas’ over, and over again. Adam let them cry out for a time before stepping forward, and silencing the crowd before him.

Adam: Now, before we make our preparations for our departure to meet out, King, is there anything you lot want to ask?

Adam’s voice demanded silence, for he knew none would dare ask anything, forhis word was law amongst his brothers, and sisters. And yet, a single hand shot up into the air. Adam gritted his teeth as he held back a snarl within his lips.

Adam: What is it…?

A faunas with white streaks in his brown hair, no doubt a squirrel, or chipmunk faunas of some kind. He held out his scroll as he yelled out his question to those before him.

WF Grunt #1: Uhh… Question! Why are the males, and the female faunas having two separate meetings?

Adam: …

Adam: Eh…?

WF Grunt #2: Yeah, why aren’t their any woman here?

Adam: There aren’t any woman here…?

WF Grunt #3: Ya, ‘der’s just a bunch of boys ‘ere.

Adam: Wasn’t word spread among the ranks about this meeting?

WF Grunt #1: Well yeah, but they told the guys to come here, and the girls to go elsewhere. Why did you do that?

Adam: I didn’t do that! Did you two do that?

Corsac: We have nothing to do with this.

Fennec: This is a matter for all faunas to attend to; why would we exclude half of our kind?

Adam’s mind raced as he look about the crowd. He had no idea why this was happening, but he knew how to find them.

Adam: Where is this meeting taking place!

WF Grunt #1: In the conference hall. I heard they needed to use the monitor in there for something.

Adam jumped off the stage, and rushed towards the hall, a few other members along with the Albain brothers chased after him.

As, Adam reached the conference hall he saw something, and someone he didn’t want to see.

Adam: Ohh… fuck…

Adam could only swear in fear as upon stage before a picture of the Dragon King, was the one person he feared about hearing about the, Dragon King.

His older sister, Eve Taurus.

Eve: Hello ladies~!

The crowd cheered as she waltz across the stage, her large breasts bouncing with every step.

Eve: Alright girls, see this handsome bastard?

Eve pointed to a smiling photo of, Jaune Arc.

Eve: This sexy son of a bitch is the, Dragon King, Jaune Arc~! A short name that rolls of the tongue, that I for one love~!

Adam: Eve?! What the hell is this?!

Eve stopped in her presentation to address the sudden interruption.

Eve: Oh hey little bro! I’ll talk to you in a moment, Mama’s busy.

Adam: With what?!

Eve: Female faunas stuff. You wouldn’t understand.

Adam: What?

Eve: Okay! I know everyone here, especially me, wants nothing more then to pounce this handsome specimen till you look like you’re three months pregnant~!

Adam: Wait what?!

Eve: But, if anyone wants a chance with this guy, all of you must learn the does, and don’ts of seducing this man.

Eve: Okay, there are a few things you must understand about the, Dragon King’s faunas traits. First off, unlike any other faunas, Jaune Arc posses several traits, and is in fact developing more as we speak.

WF Grunt #4: Seriously?!

WF Grunt #5: How many traits does he poses?!

Eve: In total, he has five traits!

WF Grunt #4: HOLY SHIT!

WF Grunt #6: We usually have one main trait, and a few sub traits! But, five traits?!

WF Grunt #5: What are his traits!

Eve: Okay! First off: He has retractable fangs, and is capable of opening his jaw very wide like many snake faunas can.

A photo of, Jaune appeared on the screen showing his mouth wide open, sharp fangs bitting down, and shattering what appeared to be chains.

Eve: See ladies, these are the fangs that our, King possesses. Notice how he is capable of biting through threw metal. So don’t try to chaining him up, he’ll just break the chain.

Eve: With this he has, my personal favourite trait, one hell of a long tongue~!

A photo appeared on the monitor of someone pulling out, Jaune’s rather long tongue from his mouth, much to his disdain.

WF Grunt #6: Holy fuck!

WF Grunt #5: I’ve seen snake faunas with shorter tongues than that!

WF Grunt #4: And, thinner ones at that…

Eve: I don’t know about you girls, but I’m for one interested in finding out what he can do with that~! Now, another one of his traits is his fire breath.

A new photo appeared showing, Jaune roasting marshmallows with his fire breath.

Eve: Now this is rather self explanatory, he can breath fire, hence the moniker of him being a dragon faunas. Just be careful, and try not to get burned. So, sorry, Trifia you won’t be able to wrap him up in your little webs, despite the fact we all know you’re the one into bondage.

Trifia: No I’m not!

The crowd soon started laughing at the poor spider girl’s expense as, Eve continued on with her presentation.

Eve: Now a lot of you feline faunas know what’s these are like. Boom! Talons!

Many of the crowd, particularly the cat faunas oohed, and awwed, at his, once again, rather unique talons.

Eve: These are your pretty standard talons, or claws, whatever you want to call them; The talons hidden under the fingernails can appear on command, yada yada yada. Moving on! Now, there isn’t a photo for this one, for this trait, for this is the trait he is currently developing: Horns. He is currently growing horns.

WF Grunt #5: Horns?

WF Grunt #7: What kind?

Eve: No idea, our sources have just reported on this as a new fact.

Adam: How the hell did you find out about all of this?! You have way more detail on his traits than I do.

Eve: Internet.

Adam: Internet, seriously?!

Eve: Yep, faunas girls like to talk about a hot man. Now quiet, Mama’s busy.

Eve: Now, like most faunas, he also has two common sub traits: A heightened sense of smell, and sight. Now the first one here, his hightten sense of smell is very, very important!

WF Grunt #6: What’s so important about that; lots of us have a good sense of smell?

Eve: Well~! Here we have the lovely Milf of Menagerie, Kali Belladonna.

WF Grunt #5: Preach it sister!

Eve: Before, Kali Belladonna met with, His Majesty, he not only sniffed her out, but he was able to identify that she was the mother of, Blake Belladonna…

Adam: My beloved!

Eve: SHUT UP! Anyway, he was able to tell that she was her mother by scent alone. And, because of his heightened sense of smell, he can easily identify… A prime mate~!

WF Grunt #7: A prime mate…

WF Grunt #6: He can find this just by our natural scent…?

WF Grunt #5: How does he do that!

Eve: Behold! Exhibit A: Deputy Headmistress of Beacon Academy, Glynda Goodwitch~! And, I gotta say, his Majesty has great taste~!

WF Grunt #8: Hello mommy~!

Eve: Based upon reports, Jaune Arc~! Ahem! His Majesty smelt her natural body odour by accident, and went into a panic attack, mostly because he didn’t know what was going on. Now, that he knows that he can sniff out prime mates he hides the fact he smelling them out. He’s not doing it intentionally, his sense of smell is just that strong. Look for his nostrils to be flaring, when they are he has picked up a tantalizing smell~! Good, or bad is the question; he used this to hunt, Adam’s little spy so be careful.

Adam: He did?!

Eve: Yeah, so get ready for, Sienna to give you lot a beat down.

Adam: Eh?

Eve: Also, Sienna has been potentially marked out as a prime mate. Again, he has such good taste.

WF Grunt #8: Can you blame him?

WF Grunt #5: I’d pick her if I could.

Eve: So ladies, now that you know his graces traits, you shall now learn how to seduce his, Grace! No shampoo, or any scented fragrance, or at the least something weak. We gotta let him smell your natural aroma to know if he’s interested.

Eve: Next, don’t come after him screaming you want his babies. He’s a family man, you’re either in it for the long haul, or not at all. His preference are more on personality than your body, but he does appear to like the thic hourglass figure, and who can blame him?

WF Grunt #7: Whoo! My odds are getting better all the time! Suck it!

Adam: Wha… Who the hell is giving you all this information?!

Eve: An information broker on the internet.

Adam: You’re paying for this?!

Eve: Hey, ThunderThighs gives good information, it’s well worth the price.

Adam: ThunderThighs?! Who the hell is that?!

~~~

Nora: ACHOO!

Jaune: Bless you. Hey, where did you get all that, Lien?

Nora: Internet.

Jaune: Internet?

Jaune: …

Jaune: You’ve been selling information about me, haven’t you?

Nora: Yes, but this is mostly from selling the photos I’ve taken of you.

Jaune: Photos? What photos?!

Nora: …

Nora: Oops…

~~~

Eve: Don’t know, don’t care. All I care about is the results, and achieving our goal.

Adam: That goal is having him lead the faunas to a brighter future?

Eve: No, the goal, at least our goal is getting into his pants!

Adam paled as he heard the crowd of woman cheer, and howl in agreement at his sisters depraved words.

Fennec: How dare you! His Majesty is far more than this!

Corsac: You should be on the ground worshiping his Majesty, with the respect, and reverence he is due!

Eve: Oh, but I will. But, while you worship him in your silly little temple, I’ll be worshiping him in the bedroom~!

The men that had trickled into the hall mouths dropped in shear shock, and horror. While the ladies in the hall burst into laughter, and cries of agreement.

Eve: Alright ladies, now you know some of the does, and don’t, there’s nothing to be said, but this: ‘Happy hunting ~!’

Adam: Serious, Eve?! The Dragon Faunas has appeared, a being that will lead the faunas into a golden age, and your more concerned about bedding him; What is wrong with you?!

Eve: You’ll never understand woman, little brother. Haa…No wonder, Blake dumped you.

Adam: What…? S-She didn’t dump me.

Eve: …

Adam: Right…?

Eve: Yeah, you just think that, Adam. Now if you’ll excuse me; Mama’s is on the hunt~!

#rwby #jaune arc #nora valkyrie #sienna khan #adam taurus #eve taurus #fennec albain #corsac albain #rwbt trifa #kali belladonna #glynda goodwitch #blake belladonna

[missywritesfor7]

❤️‍🩹Lifeline | MYG❤️‍🩹

Synopsis: It’s long been controversial for idols to date, but idols dating each other can be really beautiful or a complete nightmare. When Yoongi's relationship with another idol is discovered, he decides maybe it’s time to break the taboo and show people it’s ok for idols to date. Instead, they find themselves caught in the midst of one media frenzy after another and struggle to keep their relationship as strong as it had been the past 2 years. Yoongi finds a self destructive way to cope, and it causes even more problems than it solves. As they fight for their relationship and their careers, they discover that sometimes, the only way to truly be free is to let go.

Pairing: idol!Yoongi x idol!OC

Warnings: nsfw, alcoholism, cheating, depression, anxiety, Yoongi goes through a bisexy ho phase, Yoongi is also in his alcoholic phase, post-military BTS

Previous chapter | Next chapter | Masterlist

Ch. 20: I’m Fine

Since her birthday, Hyeri hadn’t talked to Yoongi at all. He sends her updates about his day and how he’s been feeling, and as promised she reads every message feeling happy that he seems to be doing better despite their no communication arrangement.

Though she doesn’t respond to him directly, she keeps their shared calendar updated so he always knows her schedule. Yoongi appreciates that because he can still do sweet things for her like sending her breakfast and a rainbow scarf to wish her luck on her big audition. The gift is very well received as Hyeri had been increasingly nervous leading up to her audition. Now she has an extra boost of confidence thanks to Yoongi.

As time passes Yoongi has been reading and writing music. With everything he needs being provided for him, he’s even experimented with new foods that he hasn’t used much while cooking. He even made himself a pizza completely from scratch which turned out to be a bit messy but it came out well in the end.

Therapy sessions are going better. There’s still much for him to work on, but he’s doing well and Minho has even told him how he feels it may not be much longer that he’ll have to stay in his temporary treatment home. Going back home would bring back many of the challenges and temptations Yoongi had faced before, so Minho wants to be sure Yoongi won’t be overwhelmed and potentially fall back into his old habits, but he’s confident in Yoongi’s progress.

It’s nearing two months since Yoongi has been away and sober. Two months that the rest of the world hasn’t had a single idea where he was, although fans have trended a few tags here and there saying they miss him. He’s still limiting his time on socials so he took to Weverse to post an old photo and wish Jimin a happy birthday. He sent a text to Jimin, and previously Jungkook and Namjoon wishing them happy birthday, but he realized how much the fans were starting to question his absence. His short and sweet Weverse post was mainly to quell the worries of Army who’ve been wondering where he’s been.

His method worked and before he knew it he had a ton of comments on his post of everyone expressing love to him and joy that he’s shown signs of life after a while. Reading through the comments reminds him how much he loves and misses Army. It brings a big smile to his face. He can’t wait to go back home and see them again.

After about 15 minutes he finally pulls himself away from his phone and begins reading a book he recently started. He plays a rain asmr on his phone and makes himself comfortable in a chair facing the window with the beautiful view of the landscape outside before him. He opens the book and loses himself in it.

It’s easy for him to read for hours at a time when things are this peaceful. The asmr sounds always set the mood right. Except when he gets a text that cuts through the sound when his phone rings. He ignores it and continues reading. His phone rings again. He continues to ignore it. A few minutes pass and he gets another text. He assumes it’s the guys sending messages in their group chat so he continues to read his book for now and he’ll check the messages when he finishes the chapter he’s on. Seems he can’t finish the chapter though because his phone rings again and he finally gives in and looks at his phone.

The texts weren’t from the guys at all, they were from various other people. All people that don’t know that he’s been going through rehab the past two months. Usually that means something has happened which he assumes has to do with his Weverse post, but nothing about that could cause such a commotion. Then he actually reads the messages.

“Is she ok?”

“What happened?”

“Let me know how she’s doing.”

“Are you holding up ok?”

All of these messages have Yoongi both confused and anxious. He does a simple search of Hyeri’s name and he instantly sees it.

ACTRESS RAINBOW RUSHED TO HOSPITAL AFTER BEING FOUND UNCONSCIOUS AT HOME

“What?!” Yoongi shouts feeling his heart beating out of his chest.

He quickly calls Hyeri and gets no answer. He calls Namjoon hoping he knows something but he gets no answer from him either. He isn’t sure who else he can call for information without having to explain why he’s not at home and doesn’t know what’s going on himself. He tries calling her again and still gets no answer. He’s out of his seat and now rapidly pacing the floor as fast as his legs will move.

He doesn’t know what to do or think. He’s considering calling a manager to take him back home. His anxiety is growing with each passing second. He needs to be by her side. He’s a 5 hour drive away but he’ll make that trip on foot if he has to. He calls Hyeri a third time but still no answer so he leaves a desperate voicemail.

“Hyeri please answer,” he says frantically. “Let me know what’s going on. Let me know you’re ok. I don’t care what time it is just call me as soon as you can. I love you. Please call me back.” His voice cracks at his last sentence as he hangs up and begins to cry into his hands.

Not being by her side after her car accident had been a constant source of guilt for Yoongi. Though he was on tour, he still blames himself for not being by her side. Now he’s facing that fear again and it’s got him down on his knees. It feels worse this time because he still knew that she was ok after her accident. Right now he doesn’t even know if she’s alive or not and it’s got him going through a range of emotions.

Every passing moment feels like an eternity. It’s only an hour later that his phone rings and he quickly answers the incoming call from Namjoon.

“Do you know anything?” Yoongi asks the moment he picks up. “Please tell me she’s ok.”

“Hyung,” Namjoon says softly. “She’ll be ok.”

“Are you sure? How do you know? Did you talk to her?”

“I talked to her manager. He wouldn’t go into details, but she’s being treated and she’ll be ok. I know you’re worried and I wish I had more to tell you, but I’m sure she’ll reach out to you as soon as she can.”

“Namjoon, I’m dying over here,” Yoongi exasperates. “Does she have a hospital room? Can I call her? She hasn’t answered her phone, I just need to know she’s ok.”

“I don’t know any more than that,” Namjoon says sadly. “But she’s alive. Hold on to that until you hear from her.”

“I don’t know how long I’ll be able to make it,” Yoongi confesses. “I still hate that I wasn’t with her after her car accident. What am I supposed to do all the way over here, Namjoon?”

“You have to stop blaming yourself, hyung,” Namjoon says in his usual caring but direct tone. “She’s forgiven you, you need to forgive yourself.”

Yoongi knows that. He’s heard it so much from Minho that it almost makes him roll his eyes at Namjoon’s words. But he knows he’s right. He’s been trying to, but for some reason finding grace for himself is difficult. He’s forgiven himself for many things he’s done, but he’s been having the hardest time forgiving himself for cheating on her and for not being there to support her after her accident.

For most of the day Yoongi continues to struggle with not knowing what’s going on and forgiving himself. Talking to Namjoon helped, but he’s still battling internally and it’s difficult. So he finally does something he hasn’t done in a while. Something he didn’t even realize until it was brought up. He reached out for help before anyone told him he needed to.

Yoongi hasn’t had an appetite and by dinner time he can’t manage to get himself to eat anything. He starts to feel overwhelmed in the way that would usually send him reaching for the bottle. But instead of looking for something to drink, he called Minho.

Yoongi explained what was going on and expressed how he felt helpless and guilty, amongst other things. Minho helped him through what he’s feeling and talked to him about methods to handle the fear of not knowing. They spoke for an hour before Minho told Yoongi that he was proud of him.

“Why?” Yoongi asks confused. To him he’s been a complete mess, what would have Minho proud of him in this moment?

“You’ve told me about a lot of moments just in the past two months that have been difficult for you, but this is the first time you’ve reached out on your own to seek help,” Minho says. “You’ve come a long way from trying to deal with things alone. That’s why I’m proud of you.”

Yoongi isn’t sure how to respond. That’s not something he had thought about at all. It does make him feel a bit good to hear that from Minho though. He holds on to that feeling as long as he can because it’s the only thing getting him through the night.

He can’t sleep. He can’t eat. He doesn’t want to watch or listen to anything. He can only lay on the living room floor staring at the ceiling in the same position he was in when his call with Minho ended. It’s agonizing and it’s well past 2 am. and he’s sinking further into insanity.

Then the silence is broken by the sound of his phone ringing.

“Hyeri?” He answers frantically.

“Yoongi? You’re awake?” Hyeri’s hoarse voice hums through the phone.

“Hyeri, baby, you’re ok? What happened?” He didn’t even look to see who was calling but the moment he heard her voice he jumped to his feet fueled by pure adrenaline.

“I’m ok,” she says slowly. “I wanted to call you sooner but I couldn’t.”

“What happened?” He asks again clutching at his wildly beating heart.

“I guess I’m allergic to something in my new multivitamin,” she chuckles lightly.

“What?” Yoongi asks feeling slightly relieved that she’s able to squeak out a reassuring chuckle, but still very anxious.

“I decided to try out a new vitamin, but I’m allergic to something in it. I just had a really bad reaction, I’m ok.”

“They said you were unconscious,” he pouts.

“I was able to call my manager. I don’t really know what happened after I called him, I’m just lucky he got to me fast. When I woke up I was in the hospital.”

“So you’re ok?” He asks still not convinced. “How do you feel right now?”

“My throat is sore, but other than that I’m ok.”

“Are you really?”

“No,” she chuckles. “I’m covered in hives and hooked up to all kinds of machines and shit. Also my head hurts because I guess I bumped it on something when I passed out. And worst of all, I miss you.”

“I miss you too. So so much. I almost ran all the way there to see you.”

“Don’t do that,” she laughs. “They’re taking care of me. I’ll probably be here another day or two so you don’t have to worry. I’m in good hands.”

“I believe you,” he smiles with relief. “I know I can trust you when you tell me you’re fine. I heard about this through an article that only said you were taken to the hospital after you were found unconscious. I’ve been anxious all day.”

“I’m sorry, babe.”

“No, you don’t have to be sorry,” he says lightly. “I’m just telling you how my day went,” he chuckles. “I’m just really happy to know you’re ok.”

“Good. I was worried about you when I heard the voicemail you left me. I’m happy you answered. It’s just really good to hear your voice.”

“After this day you have no idea how good it is to hear you and……all of the shit I can hear beeping around you,” he jokes.

“If you want me to unplug the stuff-“

“No!” He answers quickly.

“I’m kidding,” she chuckles through her hoarse throat.

“You can’t play with me like that,” he jokes. “So what happens now?”

“I’m not sure. They want to do a couple of allergy tests to try pinpointing the exact thing I’m allergic to.”

“And you think it was in your multivitamin?”

“Yeah, right after I took it everything went bad. It’s a new brand that I got as a gift. I guess I won’t be posting that one on my insta,” she laughs.

Hearing her laugh through the phone makes Yoongi feel a million times better. He’s still worried about her, he always will be, but this time he feels different than he has before. She’s told him everything that happened and what’s to happen next. There’s nothing more he can do, and no matter how bad he wants to be next to her right now, it won’t change anything.

They talk for another hour relishing in the sound of each other’s voices. Hyeri is happy that the conversation didn’t turn out like the one after her premiere. Yoongi didn’t press her or make her feel like he doesn’t trust that she’s ok. That makes her feel better. She feels even more relieved when he tells her about his talk with Minho and how his sessions have been going in general.

Yoongi hasn’t always had a hard time expressing what’s on his mind. For the most part Hyeri never had to guess what he was going through. He’s already been through a lot in his life and had a previous round of therapy to address his mental health and other issues. The difference now is that he’s in love. Hyeri has brought out a part of him that he had never known before. He quickly found himself wanting to protect her at all costs. Even a minor paper cut would have him ready to fight. This love is a new feeling and he found himself sinking into bad habits, some old and some new.

Yoongi started to believe that he would never find that type of love, but then he did and for whatever reason he felt like he’s only lucky to have Hyeri, but anyone else could easily sweep her off of her feet and take her away from him. On stage and in the studio he feels confident and invincible. With Hyeri he feels tiny and less than worthy. He started having big reactions to not so big things. It all finally boiled over during their tour and by then Yoongi felt too powerless to stop the downward spiral. He hated himself for getting to that point and wanted her to hate him too.

He may still need to work on forgiving himself, but he’ll never take for granted how much she’s forgiven him.

#bts #bts au #bts fanfic #bts fic #cross posted on ao3 #bts smut #angst #tw depression #bts fluff #tw alcoholism #bts angst #min yoongi #Suga #yoongi x oc #Suga x oc #yoongi au #suga au #yoongi angst #suga angst #yoongi fluff #suga fluff #yoongi fanfic #suga fanfic #yoongi smut #suga smut #yoongi fic #suga fic #established relationship #idol au