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youtellmeman · 4 months

Note

Hello ma’am 😈 I am here to request 😈 I’m thinking neteyam and reader are like enemies😡 they do not like each other okay but somewhere somehow they accidentally perform tsaheylu with each other and then they bang 😦

Yuh first request done-zo I really enjoyed writing this so i hope you like it.

Neteyam Sully x Fem!Na'vi!reader

Rated R

includes- smut, ma as a pet name, baby as a pet name, fingering, p in v, dirty talk, fem genitailia, accidental tsaheylu

In this tsaheylu is only explicitly erotic the first time around and it can be used to simply better understand what your mate is thinking/feeling.

Na'vi word translations

tiwan- love, wiya- damn, tewng- loincloth, knalu- fuck, Uvang- damn, skxwang- moron,imu’ta- bitch

italics= spoken in na'vi

Hating Neteyam, had been easy. After all it was all you'd ever known when it came to the blue boy. You’d always seen him as so, so irritating.

He always thought he knew better, better than his siblings, better than the other kids in the village, and better than you. That being eldest son to the Olo’eyktan made him so much smarter than those his age and unfortunately it seemed that trait would follow him to his grave as even now, after being accepted into the clan as an adult,he held himself to be so all knowing.

“What are you doing out here?” the voice came from behind you, his voice. “This area of the forest is dangerous, you should have someone with you.”

“Why, because I am incapable of taking care of myself?” It's a loaded question,but you can't help the way he is so quick to get under your skin. Whipping around to meet his citron eyes, raising a brow when you hear him scoff to himself.

“Why must you make everything into conflict?”

“Why must you be an imu’ta who refuses to let me live in peace.” I bite back and the air between us grows tense, eyes boring into eachothers waiting for one of us to break.

“Damn it, you are so difficult for what? I am simply looking out for you, it is dangerous, we both know this.” he huffs angrily out his nose and his tail thumbs against the ground with his growing anger.

“Have you considered that perhaps I don’t need anyone looking out for me? Especially not you, now leave me be and let me hunt in peace.” You roll your eyes and without waiting for a response you start to walk. Slinging your bow over your shoulder as you search for a new, quiet place to hunt.

“How dare you turn your back to me!” You can hear his steps speeding up after you resulting in your pace speeding as well until he manages to catch you. His slender fingers wrapping around your wrist spinning you face him. “You dare disrespect the future-”

“Future! You said it yourself!” You cut him off hissing the words at him angrily, “You hold no authority over me Neteyam so cease this useless display of power. Power that you do not have.” You spit. And maybe if you’d been less focused on the current shouting match you were having you would’ve noticed the small hand wrapping around your queue.

“Regardless of whatever you may think I am owed respect!” He snarls back and before you can you feel a sudden rush through your system, something so new yet familiar and immediately your eyes leave Neteyams face to focus on finding what's caused this surge of energy and what you can only describe as feeling. You find it immediately, honing in the little blue hand wrapped around your queue, your queue that was currently connected to, to…

“Tuktirey!” It's Neteyams voice that cuts through the silence though you can barely hear him,you can barely hear him with the wave of shock that flows through your body clogging your ears like water.

You can tell he's scolding her for a minute or two before she's shooed away, leaving you two alone still connected and you can feel it starting to ebb its way to the surface, the lust. Pupils blown wide as you find Neteyams eyes once more.

You can't find the words to ask why in the world Tuk would think that it’d be okay to connecther brother and yourself. All you can do is search his face and body for any sign he’s feeling what you are, and boy do you find it. Whether it be the rapid rise and fall of his chest or the tent in his tewng growing by the second.

Opening your mouth trying to find the words but you fail once more, or really you're cut off by the feeling of lips against yours as his hand finds its way to the base of your neck holding you close while the other pulls you in by the waist. And as his hips slot themselves so perfectly against yours you try to find some sliver of restraint, a tiny ounce of strength that will let you rip yourself away from him. You come up empty handed.

Hands finding their way to his hair pulling at the roots as you press him closer, pulling a heavenly groan from his lips.You find yourself pulling him back with you until your back meets tree, pulling back for a ragged breath.

“Holy mother.” You huff out in between breaths, Neteyam on the other hand has let his mouth wander from your jaw to neck, sucking dark purple marks onto the sensitive skin about your collar bone intermittently letting his fangs drag against the new purple markings, before coming back up. Neteyam kisses like he wants to consume you completely, it's a mess of teeth and spit as you both battle for dominance, it’s when he bites at your bottom lip that you give up on grasping at the reins letting him take complete control.

As your mouths clash Neteyam gets busy with his hands pulling the knot at the side of your loincloth before hoisting one of your legs up into his hip. Letting the arm that's not holding your leg slide between your bodies, finger sliding down your slick dampened lips, moving between tracing around your clit to moving downward to tease at your fluttering entrance. He does this a few times before you grow tired of his teasing. Pulling back to let your head rest on the bark of the tree.

“Quit it and do something, or are you just as incapable of pleasing a woman as you are at leaving me alo- ohh!” A surprised moan escapes your lips before you can finish the taunt.

“Wiya, you talk a lot.” The smug look that covers his face would have you rolling your eyes if you weren’t so focused on trying to keep them open enough to see anything at all. The annoying bastard had slipped in a finger while you were mouthing off, curling it to hit that spongy sweet spot within while letting his thumb rub lazy circles on your bud. “If I knew all it’d take to shut you up would be to stick a finger in you I woulda done it long ago.” He’s the one taunting now.

“Shut up you skxwang- hah- For you to think I would’ve ever let you touch me like this before. You clearly don’t know everything you claim.” You bite back best you can, and while you know your words hardly have any merit while you’re literally humping the palm of his land looking for more.

“Such a smart fucking mouth, lets see how that changes after I have you cumming around my fingers, hmm?” He leans close while growling out his retort, sliding in another finger as he speaks. And god, it should be criminal that it's him making you feel so incredibly good.

“Fuck Neteyam.” You whimper out and his fingers speed up their unrelenting attack, consistently hitting that sweet spot and thumb moving so quickly against that bundle of nerves it has your knees ready to buckle. “Shit, I-I need more.” You're whining against his neck now, head resting against his shoulder as he continues his assault and you can feel his chest rumble with the groan that leaves his lips.

“You want my cock baby? You want it real bad?” You can only imagine the pride on his face , but none of that matters right now, not when you really really do. So all you can do is nod as moans and groans slip from your lips at the thought.

“No, need to hear you say it. You had so much to say earlier ma , what happened?” It’s the smugness in his voice that leads you to fight against what he wants from you.

“Fuck you.” It’s practically a pant as you pull your head back from the crevice of his neck and rest it against the tree that has you sandwiched between Neteyam. Peering at him from your lidded eyes.

“Tsk tsk, not what I asked for.” He shakes his head and the small grin he wears is nothing but predatory. “You want to cum by my hands, you're gonna do what I say. " The pace he's picked up at the point is unforgiving, his fingers barely even thrust the tips simply rubbing against your most sensitive spot in a way that has you seeing stars and you can feel the coil in your stomach growing dangerously taut. But it's like he can see it on your face that you're growing close, and unfortunately he stands true to his words because as soon as you feel yourself about to teeter over the edge he stops. Leaving you withering against him.

“Nete-”

“Say it.” There's no room for negotiation in his tone, “Say it or you don’t get to cum and if you dont cum on my fingers first you sure as hell aren't getting my cock.”

It's almost pathetic how quick your resolve crumbles.

“I want you, please. Neteyam I want you please.”

“Say you need it.” Now he's just being mean cause he can.

“Fucking hell, need your cock so bad Neteyam, please.” Your breathing is ragged as you practically beg and he can hear the aggravation behind your voice.

“Not so hard is it, Tiyawn?” He quips as his fingers start to move again, thumb finding your clit as his index and middle continue the assault on the inside. And with you being so close prior it doesn’t take nearly anytime at all before your ether again, on the edge of complete euphoria just needing one last push. Push coming in the form of the third finger that ends up slamming into you, filling you up so completely and sending you crashing into waves of ecstasy. Hands finding his shoulders, nails leaving crescent marks in the blade of it as you ride your orgasm. Neteyam helps you through it, paying attention to your complete reaction while his fingered pump inside of you.

Sliding out once he's sure you’ve enjoyed the best of it,dropping your hip to your side, giving you one more openmouthed kiss before spinning you around leaving you to brace yourself on the tree that was once digging into your back. His hand finds the small of your back pushing you to be bent, arching subconsciously, readying yourself for what's to come.

You look over your shoulder just in time to see him rip the string of his tewng in a rush to move it out the way, letting his length spring up and hit his stomach.

To say that Neteyam was well endowed would be an understatement, youd heard rumors before but holy mother they didn’t do him justice. He made eye contact with you as he grabbed himself by the base getting ready to line himself up with your core.

“Like what you see?” And of course he’s cocky about this too. Neteyam raises a playful eyebrow.

“Thought you'd be bigger.” It's a lie, but you can't let his ego go unchecked. Though it doesn't seem too much as he simply sucks his teeth in response, letting a toothy grin spread across his face.

“Mhm, that’s why I can see you clenching at the sight of it then?” He retorts, still smiling as he moves, letting his tip slide between your lips, catching at your entrance. A move that has both of you shuddering in anticipation.

“Neteyam!” you whine out tired of waiting, pushing your ass back with a wiggle in anticipation and to hopefully get him to act sooner.

“Fuck, yeah okay i'm coming.” You can hear him mutter behind you. Properly lining himself this time before pushing in slowly, the girth of his head alone has you gasping for air. He’s slow to work himself in, not wanting to let his desperation for release lead to you being hurt. Eventually however he does bottom out and once he does the both of you let out sighs of relief. He gives you a moment to adjust before beginning to move, pulling back to grind back into you.

Usually this soft caring pace would leave you purring, but this is Neteyam and the fact that he just spent his time finger fucking you so good you see stars just to treat you like glass has you grinding your teeth in want for more.

“More.” You demand throwing a lust filled glare over your shoulder.

“Uvang, you feel so tight around me.” You're not even sure Neteyam heard you, his brows are pulled together and eyes scrunched in pleasure.

“Knalu Neteyam, harder!” You snap, punctuating your sentence by pushing back onto his cock which seems to break his trance.

“Eywa, why can't you let me enjoy this in peace?” His nostrils flare and eyes snap open boring into your own. Leaning forward he braces holds you by your shoulders. Sliding out till only his head is left inside of you before slamming back into you with enough strength to bruise. Switching from his heart shatteringly slow movement to thrusts that could shake Pandora itself. Thrusts that leave you gasping for air that's being knocked out of your lungs with every slam of his hips into yours.

“Oh Eywa! Neteyam fuck, yes!” Your moans are practically prayers as they fill the air around you, Not that he's being any quieter than you are. Moaning and groaning as he leans down to press wet kisses to your spine.

“Shit you feel so good Ma, fucking hell. Its like you were made to be wrapped around my cock, my perfect fucking pussy for the taking ain’t that right. ‘M gonna ruin you baby, mold this cunt to my cock. No one else could make you feel this good right Ma, c'mon tell me i'm right.” It’s hard to make out most of his rambles as he ruts into you like something feral, but you manage nonetheless.

“Fuck, yes Neteyam no one’s as good as you. No one could make me feel- oh my- feel half as good as you, shit!” You say back telling him whatever he wants to hear, telling him the truth. And it has him speeding up at which point you thought was impossible as he continues to ramble on and on about how good you feel around him against the skin of your back. One of his hands manage to find their way around your waist and to your clit, rubbing tight circles while his noises grow more animalistic by the minute and it has you fluttering around him causing him to twitch within you. The both of your peaks growing increasingly closer.

“I'm gonna cum, Net, fuck dont stop!” you warn him of your upcoming release and you can feel the way the knowledge fuels him, his grip on your shoulder tightening as he drills into you with fervor.

“Cum for me tiwan, wanna feel you cum around me, cmon.” He urges you on and soon enough it comes. Surginging through you like electricity, punctuated by a high pitched whine as your legs tremble. Neteyam fucking you through it fighting to hold off his own upcoming orgasm in lew of making sure you can enjoy yours to the fullest and soon enough you start to come down, the way you clench becoming softer and more spaced out as you begin to take deep breaths in order to ground yourself.

It only takes a few more pumps before the euphoria is hitting him like a splash of cold water and he’s quick to pull out and spill his seed on the curve of your ass and back, groaning your name slowly as he works his way through it.

Eventually you both restore enough air in your lungs to disconnect yourselves and get cleaned up. Finding a small and unoccupied pond to wash his essence of yourself along with the sweat you'd worked up along the way before slipping your clothes back on and helping him repair the string of his loincloth well enough that it would not fall off on his trek through the village.

Still once you're both clothed you both take a few moments to be together and fully grasp the fact of what this connection means for the both of you. It's then that you finally find the words you’d lost earlier.

“Why did tuk do it? Why did she connect us?” You ask, your eyes finding his in confusion.

“Our parents.” He starts, “ Sometimes they fight and sometimes when they do they perform tsaheylu. In order to better understand what the other is feeling. She thought it would help us ‘get along’” he finishes explaining and you can't help but laugh at the childlike innocence of it all.

“How sweet in theory I suppose.” You smile up at him stifling a few laughs.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “Remind me to thank her when we get back.” At that you roll your eyes and smack him in the shoulder. “Hey!”

——————

Let me know what you think

Reblogs and likes deeply appreciated

#avatar neteyam #neteyam #neteyam headcanons #awow neteyam #neteyam hc #neteyam x reader #neteyam atwow #neteyam avatar #neteyam smut #neteyam awow #avatar smut #avatar x reader #avatar na'vi #awow #awow imagines #awow smut #awow x reader #way of water #neteyam sully

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camillesblogsposts · 1 year

Text

Say yes to me - two

@blairfox04 @lostcasefile @kyleeservopoulos @cursedpixie @ellieinmybed @intrnetdoll @frasersgf @spidersammy @starhrtz @imnotsocool

That night you felt particularly alone. When you got home you were met with the knowing gaze of Cat. She rushed to get her shoes on, quickly tying the laces. "Where are you off to?" You smiled, your face still blotchy from crying. She shrugged her shoulders, "Off to find Ellie." You nodded awkwardly. "Is it safe to assume she's why you've been crying?" She asked as she stood. You shook your head a little defensively, "M' not crying." Cat sighed, "Well, why you have been crying, then."

You shrugged. "Y/N, I don't know why you can't just take a hint. She's not gonna magically wake up one day and decide to like you." Cat was not surprised but she was relieved. Every morning when she saw you hopeful that today Ellie would change her mind on you she grew nervous that you would be right. So far, she was victorious. “I just need to get stronger, that’s all.” You sniffled, rubbing your face. Cat walked to the door and opened it, “I just hope she’s not super pissed.” She left. You wished for a moment that she would make an effort to comfort you but you immediately felt guilty for thinking that; Cat had her own responsibilities.

You cleaned the house and laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling. You remembered Ellie’s book. You fell asleep thinking about it, imagining Ellie reading it in her bed with her hand down her pants. You were woken up by Cat arriving back home hours later. You’d slept most of the day, your stomach grumbled viciously. You walked to the kitchen. Cat was still lingering there as she often did, smug look on her face. It irked you. You made a bowl of granola, nuts and berries. She was staring at you, smiling cruelly. “Well?” She spoke. You looked at her wide eyed. “Well what?” You were clueless on what she was expecting. “Well, aren’t you going to ask me why I’m so happy?” You were confused, she didn’t seem happy. She looked as if she’d just defeated an enemy. “Oh, um, why are you so happy?” You chewed on a blueberry quietly. “Ellie and I, we’re practically together again, we fucked.” Her voice was unwavering. You sort of froze in place for a moment, your body then moving as expected though your mind remained still. You smiled at her, a kind warm smile. “How, um, why did that happen?”

“Well I was at hers, n’ I was trying to get her to say what had happened today, she just sorta pushed me onto the bed we started making out.” She was still smirking. You nodded slowly. “Well, as long as you both had a good time.”

“Oh I made sure she had a good time.” Cats voice was oddly tantalising. You were internally screaming. You had an image of smashing her head into the kitchen countertop, immediately feeling guilty for it. “Ellie deserves it, she’s always so stressed out.” Your stomach hurt badly from the tension building, your body always weak to strong emotions. She nodded in agreement. You left back to your bedroom and slept again.

The next morning you got dressed to go meet Maria. She welcomed you warmly, a great gentle smile and extended arms. Maria had a tender nature with you. You accepted her embrace gladly. “How you holding up?” She asked. “I’m okay, but I really want to say how sorry I am for messing up again.” Perfectly practiced. She shook her head quickly, “No, no more apologies, Ellie shouldn’t have let you go off on your own, she knows better.” You were embarrassed again, the whole thing was so patronising. “What will I be doing instead of patrols?” You asked quietly. “Well, your home made goods are of value, you could open a little stall in the market?” She recommended. The thought made you surge with guilt. Why couldn’t you just be strong like Ellie was? You’d been asking yourself the same question for years. Regardless, you nodded. Always eager to please.

As you were about to leave, Ellie entered. She was wearing a white t shirt and loose fitting jeans. You wanted her to hold you. She looked at you, meeting your eyes. Your heart flipped. “Hi.” You couldn’t resist but to speak, wanting more of her attention. She nodded in acknowledgment before walking towards Maria. You realised she would be leaving for patrols soon- you had an idea to speak to her again, quickly walking home and making another sandwich for Ellie. You made egg mayo again, writing a little note and slipping it into the bag you wrapped them in.

Ellie ♡

Hi!!! Enjoy your food, I hope it’s okay. I’d like to be able to make you food every day. If you want me to, I will. I’m sorry for yesterday. Please don’t hate me. I’m sorry if you do. Have a safe patrol and rest well when you come home.

- Y/N

You rushed to the gates to see her before she left- you had about five minutes, you scurried along begging that you’d make it in time. You did. She didn’t notice you as you walked up behind her timidly, reaching out your hand to pull on the sleeve of her shirt. She turned her head sharply. “What is it?” Hearing her voice made you feel all giggly. “I made you something.” You smiled at her, a little flushed. Ellie furrowed her eyebrows and looked to the side, annoyed, “What?” She asked quietly as if she didn’t want the others to hear your exchange. You considered if it was embarrassing to be seen talking to you. “This, did you like the one yesterday?” You asked all sunshine and rainbows as if you hadn’t just been informed that Ellie had been fucking your very best friend the day before. “Ok, I’ll accept this as a token of apology for yesterday.” She answered you coldly, grabbing it and shoving it into her bag carelessly. She got up onto shimmer and the gates were opened. You couldn’t help but smile at her before she left.

You spent the day setting up your stand, your soaps, cleaning products, perfumes, makeup, and jewellery all home made. It was a hit. People showered you in vouchers for your products, some trading you. One girl traded you a small wooden carving of a star for blueberry scented soap. You noted that one especially, wanting to give it to Ellie when you got the chance. The day went quickly, you daydreamed about her all the while.

You were slouched over your stand, head in your hands half asleep. You felt the stand shake under you, startling you awake. You jolted up a little panicked, scared something was wrong. It was Ellie. You’d seen her twice in one day now, how lucky you felt. “Sleeping on the job?” She grunted. You looked all pouty and pathetic, Ellie was growing sickeningly overcome with desire. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to, just tired.” You yawned a little, not fully conscious to the fact she was stood a mere few inches away. “The sandwich.” She said. You waited for her to continue. She didn’t. “….what about it?” You sounded uncertain and sleepy. “The note.” That woke you up, feeling a little nervous now. You nodded, smiling at her all innocent. “You…. Can’t keep doing that.” She sounded so irritated. So tense.

You stood up, Ellie still significantly taller than you. You decided to play oblivious. “Keep doing what, Ellie?” You were batting your eyelashes. Ellie didn’t say another word for a moment, her face growing harder. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” She broke the silence that had built abruptly, an accusatory tone. Your chest hurt. You couldn’t grasp what you could have possibly done wrong. “Ellie,” “Don’t fucking start with that bullshit, all your whining and excuses, don’t dare start fucking crying.” She cut you off, walking around the stand to be beside you. You stepped back nervously. Horridly, this was turning you on.

“Why can’t you be my friend?” You kept your voice steady. You didn’t want her to know how much it hurt when she said these things. Ellie looked away. “Because I can’t be.” “Why can’t you be? You’re friends with Dina and Cat and Jesse, if you tell me what’s wrong with me I’ll change it Ellie.” The words were tumbling out of your mouth against your will. “It’s fucking different and you know it.” In honesty, you didn’t know what she meant by that. But it sort of implied that you were special. You felt your cheeks grow red.

You felt bold. “Ellie, I want to make you happy.” You smiled, your eyes watery as you willed the tears to not spill. She was frozen in place uncomfortably, head turned down to look at the ground, the few inches of space seperate the two of you. She was biting her lip. “Just want you to be happy.” She didn’t respond, turning and leaving again. She always left you like this. You’d wait patiently, wait for her to come back.

#ellie tlou #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #tlou x reader #ellie williams #elliewilliams #tlou #tlou ellie #say yes to me

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alevolpe · 4 months

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your headcanon about Sailor Venus being the reason the Silver Millennium falls is so interesting!

what's the role of Metalia and Beryl in it? did they work together with Sailor Venus?

Thank you!

I actually don’t really consider Metalia when I think about SilMil and the Dark Kingdom, if i do implement her, she’s usually more of a ‘force’ rather than an entity per se, but to answer your question, not really.

Silmil Venus wants to cause the downfall of the Silver Millennium, but she has no means or interest to interact with the Earth colony. She’s very aware of the multiple rebellions and surges, but it’s more like she uses them to her advantage rather than fully cooperate with anyone. Her main means of manipulation are through the Princess and even the Queen herself, pushing the Queen to take the Earth threats more seriously and thus causing further dismay and desperation upon the people of Earth, accelerating the possible tipping point that could finally cause a full on War. While also keeping secret of the more delicate aspects of the rebellion, such as infiltrators. She knows exactly who’s planning to turn their backs on the Kingdom, but since it highly benefits her, she keeps it a secret.

As for Beryl, Beryl has so much potential, she genuinely has and I do plan on exploring aspects of her character in my version of Silmil. To start she’s not just a random maiden (or witch for some reason), she’s a part of a highly secretive rebellion group against Moon kingdom, who’s goal is to free Earth and its people from the ruthless dictatorship of Serenity. This group includes tons of different people, sort of like a spy network, but at its core it’s composed of Beryl herself, Kunzite, Zoisite, Nephrite, Jadeite, Thetis, Enymion and .. Luna. (If someone is more curious about this one shoot an ask and I’ll explain further, but i rlly wanna focus on Beryl in this).

Beryl’s goals are to infiltrate the Moon Kingdom, steal and shatter the silver Crystal, being aware that that crystal is the center of all power for Serenity and the other Senshi. This information being gathered by Luna and also by a mysterious voice who offers her guidance.

A lot of how exactly the Moon Kingdom falls is still in the writing works, but I basically see Queen Serenity finding out about Luna, executing her and launching what is by all means a missile attack to Earth, destroying and killing thousands of people in the villages where Beryl and the knights reside. This hatred within Beryl causes the mysterious voice to fully come forth and offer her a power in exchange for Queen Serenity’s life, she takes it and a full on attack on the Moon starts. The Queen is obviously taken aback, but she’s also very old and much weaker than she used to be, so she leaves most of the work on Venus. Venus takes it willingly and kills all of the other senshi behind closed doors (which at this point is only Mercury, Jupiter and Mars), looking to find the princess next.

Beryl and the Queen have a one to one, where the queen becomes more and more aware that she’s not making it out alive and at this point she’s not putting much of a fight, it’s the inevitable end of a cycle and her time was about to come soon anyways. The Queen is old and tired, the empire is falling, but a new ruler is going to be reborn regardless and she will start a new empire. She accepts death and lets herself be killed by Beryl. In the meantime Endymion is looking for Serenity, but Venus gets to him first and kills him. When Serenity finds her way to her deceased lover, Venus lies, like she always does, saying he was killed in battle, along with the rest of her guardians and her mother.

By means I still haven’t fully figured out (I will find a way for it to make sense, I’m so determined!) Venus sword has the power to reawaken a soul lying dormant within a reincarnated body if the previous reincarnation was killed by said blade, so she proposes to let Serenity be killed by her so that hers and Serenity’s souls will live on into the next life and will eventually be able to fully reawaken and take over their reincarnated selves. It will be their new life, where Serenity will be able to live happily ever after with her beloved prince, free from the shackles of the will of her mother and any responsibility to have to govern any empire. Serenity accepts and lets her ‘dearest of friends’ Venus kill her. With a smile on her face Venus points the sword toward herself, knowing she will live on, free from the queen and finally being able to kill her princess before she’s able to enslave her again in her next life.

Beryl and the kings return victorious to Earth and live relatively regular lives after that. Skip to the time where the senshi are starting to get reborn and the mysterious voice reaches out for the souls of Beryl and the other kings and Endymion, their job is not done and they must stop the new princess and her guardians from rebuilding a new Empire in the current timeline.

A lot of this is still in the writing works, so stuff might change, but this is more or less how I see the fall of the Moon Kigdom and Beryl’s involvement in it. She’s sort of like the live long enough to see yourself become the villain trope, she was the hero all those years ago, she’s just blinded by rage and power fueled by this mysterious voice.

#ask me stuff #silver millennium #beryl #venus #I will def explain more about Luna in the future #She’s such a tragic character but I get so many happy vibes from her #She just wants her girls to be happy #Also Beryl has no romantic interest in Endymion #Or if she does it’s a very minor aspect of her character #Hated that that was the reason she hated Serenity #She has REAL reasons to hate her #no man jealousy needed #Also the voice is dun dun Galaxia #no surprise there lol

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teneguine · 11 months

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"Happy birthday, Owain!" Grima said, slipping out from behind a pillar to stop Owain in his tracks. Her bright and warm smile was difficult to keep on her face but she did her very best. She had her arms kept behind her back as well. "Here. I've got a gift for you. Close your eyes and hold out your hands."

Regardless of his response Grima leaves a gift in his hands. Inside the box is a book of poetry. Though the book seems almost impossibly old, the pages fragile and frayed but there were clear attempts to preserve it.

"I found this during my travels before arriving at the academy. They're poems that seem to be from a fabled lost city. What do you think?" Grima watched him closely, an interested look in her eye. The truth was that book was from Grima's own personal collection. She had little problem giving it away if it helped earn trust. Perhaps Owain could decipher the ancient language inside. If nothing, it gave him something to do.

//via birthday asks; still accepting!

"Hark! The arrival of the famed tactician rouses my mystic blood! It surges forth like a frigid geyser, spraying evil with my heroic powers!"

In other words, he's excited.

Or at least, that's the story he'll be going with. He strikes a pose for the Fell Dragon--both arms laid across his chest in opposite directions, hands splayed open, and back arched for dramatic effect--but deep down, he's wary. He wonders if she ever got to use her gift. That faulty pen and magic ink were sure to inconvenience her, and depending on just how much she used them, he could have put a significant dent in her schemes.

So he assumes, in secret, that she is seeking revenge.

"For me?" he continues, nodding along and closing his eyes as instructed, "You know how to honor your heroes well! With this great boon, nigh an army may stop me in my quest!"

But when she motions to hand him the book, he peeks. Just a crack, his eyes peer open. The slits are hardly distinguishable from actually having shut his eyelids, but they make a world of difference in terms of what he can see. Dark takes note of the tome--how it isn't laced with spikes or poison, how it's just... Ordinary. It's strange.

When Grima explains it, he tries to act surprised.

"Oh? A... Lost city, eh? That's, uh, riveting..." He turns the cover first, inspecting for any signs of a sigil or magic snare designed to lop off his arm. But either his magical perception is lacking, or there is no real danger, for Dark cannot sense anything. Stranger. A fist covers a cough as he turns it back around, before that spare hand moves to rifle through the pages.

"Huh. I can't quite read it. Though I believe I've seen the text before..." Ancient Valmese? Or maybe the first rulers of Regna Ferox. His face contorts in confusion, unable to pinpoint which historical period it all belongs to. Owain turns page after page, looking for something of interest (Maybe a diagram? Maybe a secret note containing the Fell Dragon's plans?) but he finds only words. Such is the content of a poetry novel, after all.

"Ah... AHEM! Making heads or tails of this cryptic writing is the bread and butter of an eldritch scholar such as myself. Rest assured, Robin," he speaks that name with a bit of venom, "I shall have the code cracked in a fraction of a second. There is nothing my enigmatic mind cannot solve!"

It slams shut and enters the protection of his underarm. As Dark turns to be on with his day, he shoots Grima one last look, waving her off as though they were friends again, "You have my thanks for this holy gift! I shan't forget it."

#IC #ASKBOX #FELLINCANCATION #//at some point i may follow this up with a drabble where owain is like.#//mortified #//at GRIMA's ability to write poetry more creative and “”“epic”“” than his #//but thank you for this audrey

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bugsims · 2 years

Note

Character 4 and Simblr 5 :)

thank you for the ask kit!! you slay @simmancy

5. A resolution for your blog.

I have two; One is to stop worrying about notes, and the other is to get double digit likes on my posts regularly. We'll see what comes first! 🤪

4. Name your favorite event that happened in your character’s life.

Since I answered about Tab, I'll answer about Surge! I have a lot of his arc planned out, and I'm very excited to see how it plays out, regardless of if folks want him as an heir or not in the future. I'll chat abt below the cut because it's a spoiler and if folks want to avoid it, they can.

Surge thinks infidelity is common because his mother is an absolute wreck-- their relationship isn't great, and since he really looks up to his father (his career, his ability to maintain himself despite his reputation being in the shitter, he even respects his downfalls), he just struggles with the idea that people WANT to be married, because his mom hasn't married her longtime boyfriend, his dad is seconds away from a divorce, etc.

He struggles to hold onto the idea that people want HIM. He rolls the romantic trait as a teen, so sure, he's flirty-- but he's terrified to actually COMMIT to that, and the whole vulnerable "I love you and I want to be with you officially" thing. So when he gets MARRIED in the future :) it'll be a big deal. (god forbid something fuckin happens to his girlfriend in game because they're only teens in game and with the amount of fires i get? i fear.)

Please accept this spoiler of teen Surge looking at his girlfriend like she hung the stars!!! i'm so attached to my boy

i wrote so much more than expected thank u kit ily

#ask meme #ssl asks

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cosmic28dreams · 10 months

Text

i think i like to write, except when i’m with a man

In 2022, 82-year-old French writer Annie Ernaux won the Nobel Prize in Literature "for the courage and clinical acuity with which she uncovers the roots, estrangements and collective restraints of personal memory" [1]. Her art is based on her life experiences as seen through the sociological perspective.

For this incredible achievement, you would think that this woman has spent her entire life focusing solely on her career to be able to stand in such a position and receive such an award. Yet, in one of her most renounced work, Simple Passion (1991), it starts with

“From September last year, I did nothing else but wait for a man”

Many such cases.

As a child, all of us were conditioned to many beliefs ranging from religious to familial rules. Yet there is one particular thing that men are exempt from: the male validation curse. In which we live in a world designed for women to be performers rather than human beings. In 2023, we’d expect a lot of progress from this culture, as in theory it seems disgustingly outdated. Yet the dating coaches on TikTok labelling women as high or low value, or step-by-step instructions on how to bag a billionaire, or ‘make him obsessed with you!’ trends begs to differ.

The misuse of dating apps and the surge of men who cheats and women who willingly be homewreckers. If in the 1940s women feel the need to appear more beautiful or seductive in the eyes of men, now it has transcended to appearing more mysterious for men, more intelligent for men, more cooler, more niche. Whether you’re a longstanding feminist or just openly seeking male validation, hearing men comment that "you're just not like other girls" has become one of our guilty pleasures. We are so deeply conditioned into appeasing this other gender who, more often than not, are not required to look deeply enough within themselves to even begin to understand why we do the things we do.

It’s always so subtle. “My friend is a writer, I’ll ask her (instead of you, who’s also a writer)”, “Are you sure this art isn’t too controversial?”, “Life would be easier for you if you’re less sensitive, I’m telling you this out of kindness”, “As someone with a masters in finance I’m surprised you’re able to budget well”. Oh boy.

Women write in her bedroom yet extensively edits it after falling in love with a man who has a preconceived notion that she is not good enough to be a writer. Women paints with everything they have yet stores her work in the drawer because she doesn’t think her favourite male artist would find her messy art very appealing or sexy to her character. Women who are in positions of leadership often act in a way that favors men. Laugh to misogynistic jokes in the board room, side eye other women for wearing too much makeup, become less affectionate to their daughters because work is so important and saying, ‘Oh my daughter, I don’t like that you’re having these silly little crushes on boys!’

Again, I have to remind, it is not our fault. It is just the world that we are brought into. Women are smart, hence why these male pleasing techniques even exist, because we’re trying to get by. And that’s okay. Regardless of how deeply we have been taught something, there is still time to unlearn it. Find out and accept yourself for who you are, a complex character expected to be moulded into something digestible for men. You are not too emotional, you are not too hard to understand, you are you and you are learning and unlearning and observing and discovering.

Look beautiful, be mysterious, paint, sing, dance, hookup with handsome men every now and then, get married, cook for the people you love, have fun with the validation, we live in a joyous world where you can do whatever you please. But as a woman, I hope one day you’ll be able to do so without being haunted by the fear to perform.

As for me, I’m still unlearning from it as well. Because if Cillian Murphy thinks I’m ugly I’d probably kill myself.

thanks for reading xo

Reference

[1] "The Nobel Prize in Literature 2022". The Nobel Prize (Press release). 6 October 2022. Retrieved 18 August 2023.

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free-pool-trash · 3 years

Text

everything - peter maximoff

PART 2 TO DISAPPOINTMENT (you can read it on its own but it might be a tiny bit confusing)

hey guys, i missed peter and i hope this makes you guys feel better abt the first part of this fic <33

comments/reblogs/asks always appreciated <3

word count: 4k

warnings: angst, panic attack, fluff, probably some mistakes its 3:33am 😩✋🏻

summary: peter comes to your new reality <3

masterlist

His fingers drummed rapidly against the metal table located in the jet hanger, beneath the basketball court. Hank waited too, although, the beast was considerably calmer than Peter was at the moment.

“The radio has been quiet for like twenty minutes… do you think something went wrong?” Peter forced the words out in quick succession as he gnawed on his lips.

Hank sighed as that was the fourth time Peter had asked that question, every five minutes for the past twenty minutes- like clockwork, he’d asked Hank the same thing. The only varient was that the question started with, “It’s been five minutes...,” then, “It’s been ten minutes…,” to, “it’s been fifteen minutes…”

Hank understood that the boy was nervous, he was too, afterall Peter wasn’t the only one with a girlfriend on the uncharacteristically sketchy mission. However, if Peter asked him the same question one more time, he’d turn blue out of annoyance.

“Peter, I’m begging you to stop asking. They’re probably fine, the mutant’s energy surges probably just fried the radio,” Hank explained, trying to sound convincing for his and Peter’s peace of mind.

Peter gaped in response, “And that doesn’t worry you?”

Hank threw his head back with exhaustion and groaned, “Of course it does,” he started, running his hands down his face before continuing, “But stressing out about it isn’t going to do anyone any good. All we can do is wait for them to get back,” he finished, fixing Peter with a stern look as he’d began to bounce his knee relentlessly- annoyingly.

His fingers drumming faster than the human eye could see, his knee jolting at a similar speed, a feeling of unmistakable dread had started forming in the boy’s stomach, and no amount of finger tapping or knee bouncing could make it go away.

He had a feeling in his gut, one that he wouldn’t be able to back up with any type of logic or reason, but regardless, he had a feeling seated deep in the pit of his stomach that told him, extremely definitely, that something wasn’t right.

As best he could for the next hour and a half, Peter tried to stay quiet. Leaving the hanger to run laps around the basketball court; his attempt at exerting some nervous energy, his attempts were fruitless though as all he could focus on was that feeling in his bones that told him that you, his longtime girlfriend, were in danger. What only served to amplify his anxiety was the fact that if something terrible had indeed happened to you at the hands of the reality jumping mutant; there probably wasn’t much he could do to reverse it.

The conversation he’d shared with you last night rang through his head while he weighed up every possible outcome of your situation, and in conjunction; the situation he could possibly find himself in.

“So say your lovely girlfriend does get sent to an alternate reality… would you follow?” Within a second of your question, Peter had flipped your positions so that your back was against the mattress and the man in question was hovering on top of you with a cheeky grin.

“Sweet cheeks, I’d follow you anywhere.” He told you and you giggled at the stupid pet name before pulling him down to kiss you.

He meant it, he knew he meant it. Peter Maximoff had never been so sure of a fact in his entire existence; he’d follow you anywhere. His issue was that anywhere usually didn’t extend to alternate realities, but to him, if it meant rescuing you, he’d figure out a way to work out the kinks. Peter shook the thoughts from his head, he needed to be rational. You were probably fine, but yet again, he found last night's words echoing in his brain, the promise you’d made rattling around the confines of his head as violently as a screen door during a hurricane.

“Pete…” You whispered, moving your arms to wrap around his neck. “I’m gonna be okay. Raven and Charles will be with me the whole time, we’ll be in and out. I promise.”

When his heart began to beat out of control, he stopped running at lightning speed in favour of leaning against a thick tree adjacent to the basketball court. Aiming to steady his pulse he briefly closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. He thought about you; about how you’d play with his fingers to stop him from drumming them, how you’d cause any and all of his intrusive thoughts to be ejected from his mind when your lips would meet his in surprise kisses, or how you’d drape your arms around his shoulders and rest your cheek against his chest at random times. Those were the small interactions that brought him the greatest amount of serenity. Just as his heartbeat returned to its usual overactive pace, the jet you’d left on earlier was flying overhead.

Peter rushed back to the hanger, nervous energy at an all time high when the jet landed before him and Hank. Peter bounced on the heels of his feet as he waited for you to bound into his arms and pepper kisses all over his face. But that didn’t happen.

Peter’s heart dropped into that familiar pit in his stomach when Raven and Charles stepped out of the plane, looking crestfallen and solemn when their eyes met Peter’s wide, fear filled, brown eyes.

Before anyone could say a word, Peter sped into the plane, unfortunately confirming his suspicions; you weren’t there. Only a second later, the boy was back in his original spot in front of Charles and Raven.

“She better not be where I think she is right now or I swear to God, man-“ Peter began to threaten as Hank let out a shaky breath of disbelief.

“Peter,” Raven placed her hand on his shoulder when he looked like he was about to hyperventilate, Charles had yet to speak, no doubt trying to find an appropriate way to tell a young mutant that the only constant in his life, his only pacer, had been lost on a mission due to his negligence.

“Where is she? Tell me where she is, I’ll go get her I can be there in back in like five minutes just-“ Peter immediately rushed to speak, ignoring Hank’s confused gaze and Charles’ pained grimace.

“Slow down, bud,” Hank voiced when Peter neared the point of vibrating where he stood.

“The mutant, Galan, he said he’d bring her back, if, and only if, we complied with his demands,” Charles started to explain, grimacing again when Raven cut him off rather bluntly.

“But we can’t. His demands are insane.” She glared at Charles as she spoke, she believed that he shouldn’t have even brought up the option in front of Peter, there was absolutely no way they could accept the deranged mutant’s demands, Charles knew that, and Raven hadn’t wanted to give Peter false hope.

“So what?” Peter yelled, anger replacing nervousness. He’d warned them it was a bad idea. You’d warned them it was a bad idea. It could’ve been avoided. Had he been there, he could’ve saved you. “So what, she's just gone? My girl is just gone and what? I’m supposed to just be okay with it?” He seethed, his breath heavy while his chest heaved with rage.

When, after a moment, nobody spoke, Peter shook his head, “Come on you guys… you’re not seriously considering leaving her in some wacked out world all by herself, are you?” His voice sounded pleading, like a child, stripped raw and entirely vulnerable in a way that made them all wish they’d been more careful, hell, even Hank felt guilty and he hadn’t even been there. He, too, had been against the whole mission in the first place, actually.

“We’re really sorry, Peter,” was all Charles said before he exited the room, Raven stayed rooted in place though, at a loss for what to say or do next.

Peter swallowed thickly, his throat closing and his heart pumping at a rapid rate as tears welled in his eyes and oxygen seemed to disappear from his general area when the reality of the situation set in. You were gone, he’d get you back; even if it took him the rest of his life he’d get you back, but right in that moment, you were just gone. He hadn’t heard Hank’s and Raven’s “Woah!”s as the silver haired boy stumbled on his feet, his knees buckling before he had a chance to steady himself. Nor could he hear the gut wrenching rasps that left his mouth as he slipped into a panic attack that would surely result in him passing out.

“Peter,” Raven was in front of his face, but it wasn’t right- no, you were the one who talked him down, not Raven, it wasn’t right. “—you need to calm down, breath—“ her voice was distorted, as if he was hearing her from beneath a surface of water.

The older woman looked to Hank in desperation, he only furrowed his brow and gradually lowered Peter to the ground. He watched as the speedster rasped and muttered, he only managed to pick up a few words, his heart pulling with each one.

Hank rubbed a soothing hand up and down Peter’s back, while Raven prompted him to breath, eventually they managed to get through to the boy, though, Hank could tell it was more a matter of him having worn himself out.

“You’re alright,” Hank tried to soothe but Peter only whimpered.

He sniffled and met Hank’s gaze, hollowly and miserably, his lips quivering as her spoke in a desperate whisper, “I have to get her back, man. I just have to.”

The kettle screeched out a whistle from the kitchen, letting yourself and Wanda know the water was boiled, “I’ll get it,” you told her, you stood from the porch steps, squeezing Wanda’s shoulder on your way in as she gave you a grateful smile.

It’d been a few months since Wanda had sought you out after WestView broke down, you recalled the words she spoke fondly; “You don’t have to be alone. Remember what I said when we first met? We could help each other.”

Of course, you’d agreed to go on the run with her. And true enough, you’d both been extremely helpful to each other. She was a true friend and if nothing else, she was a bright light in the confused foreign world. As much as you adored Wanda, and as much as she adored you, neither of you were so naive as to think you weren’t still swamped in a pool of loneliness, craving for what you’d both respectively lost.

“Wands, was it peppermint you wanted?” You called from the kitchen, grinning slightly when she responded.

“Ya! With honey!” She yelled softly, “Please!”

Dutifully, you made the two cups of tea before returning to your spot next to Wanda on the steps, holding the hot cup between your hands and breathing in the minty steam. The scenery that surrounded you was gorgeous, nothing short of breathtaking. Rolling hills, huge lakes and flower fields that surrounded the cabin gave it the vibe of something plucked right from a storybook. If it was taking yours and Wanda’s story into consideration, you thought, it’d be one tragically dark storybook, but all the good classics were like that, you supposed.

Despite the eye catching backdrop, your mind was elsewhere today, more so than usual.

Wanda’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, “May I ask you something?”

Taking a sip from your tea you gave her an amused smile from over the rim of your ceramic cup, “Always.”

With that, Wanda turned her body to face you and you mirrored her action, then, she tilted her head curiously, “I’ve been wanting to ask you this for a while, but I didn’t want to pry,” she began causing you to snort out a laugh.

“Never stopped you before,” Wanda rolled her eyes, but smiled, continuing to her actual inquiries.

“When we were in WestView, you woke up a few times, but only when the imposter acting as my brother was near you,” you let out a heavy sigh, which stopped her in her tracks. This conversation had been brewing for a while, you could see it in the way Wanda sometimes hesitated before bringing up certain topics.

“In my reality, I have a boyfriend. He’s my everything, really,” you told her, staring blankly out into the fields as you spoke, “We’ve been together since we broke his father out of a high security prison together in ‘73– did I ever tell you that our timelines are different?” You wondered, losing the thread of your thoughts as you recalled the most significant few days of your life that had transpired in 1973, when you and Peter were just eighteen. It was only five years ago for you, but in this reality, the 70s were more than forty years ago.

“You’ve mentioned it,” she reminded you and you nodded, clearing your throat and getting back to the explanation that Wanda was expecting.

“Well, he’s a mutant like me. He’s got super speed, like your Pietro. His birth name is actually Pietro but he hates it, had it changed to Peter when he moved to the states— kids used to pick on him for it,” you explained, laughing lightly, thinking about the way his nose would scrunch up cutely when you’d call him Pietro.

“That man in WestView… he was identical to my Peter and he had the mutation and… his last name is Maximoff so, I don’t know, I guess it made sense that he’d be playing your brother. When we met I thought nobody was ever going to come for me, then I saw him and I was so happy…” Wanda rested a gentle hand on your knee when your face grew mournful.

“I thought he’d come to save me, bring me home, you know? But it wasn’t him at all, just some guy called Ralph Bohner,” you shrugged with a small pout, attempting to diffuse the weight of the confession with a light, humourless chuckle, “Stupid name.”

Wanda fixed you with a genuine smile, “Tell me about him,” she promoted and you sighed, dreamily this time.

“He’s kind, and funny, he makes me laugh more than anyone I’ve ever known— seriously, I could be having the worst day of my life and all he’d have to do is look at me and everything would feel better,” Wanda’s smile widened, she understood, her Pietro had that effect on her too.

“He’s honest, he’s so good hearted but he can be so full of mischief sometimes, he’s a huge prankster back home,” you paused, biting back a smile for a second, then carried on, “He’s got killer taste in music, before we actually started dating he used to lend me his favourite vinyls and make me mixtapes… he used to write crap on the top of the cassettes with black sharpie, like, “kinda cool songs for a sorta cool girl” or, and this is my personal favourite, “songs that make me think of you”, he drew a little winky face so, naturally, I thought it was going to be super cute,” your own laughter cut you off, Wanda’s mingled with yours and she raised her eyebrows.

“And was it?” She asked, chuckling when you shook your head, your smile the widest she’d ever seen it. She couldn’t help but smile too, the more you told her about him, the more she realised he really was just the alternate version of her brother.

“The only song on the whole thing was ‘Let’s Get It On’ by Marvin Gaye!” Wanda threw her head back in laughter, your cheeks hurt from smiling but your heart felt lighter having spoken about the boy you love.

Once she’d stopped laughing, Wanda took you in before speaking the thing she’d been thinking about since you became friends, “You know, I think Pietro would’ve liked you very much,” she joined you in staring off into the fields, “Peter sounds a lot like him.”

“You’d like him, I think,” Wanda nudged her knee against hers and sipped her tea.

“I hope I get to meet him someday,” she stated, causing your tone to dampen ever so slightly as you agreed.

“I hope so too.”

Peter hadn’t slept in weeks, by now, the speedster was running on nothing but twinkies and redbull. He hadn’t gotten a chance to sleep really, he’d left the mansion almost two weeks ago on what he was calling a solo mission. By solo mission he meant; finding the mutant that sent you to another reality and asking him, politely, to just plop him wherever he sent you. He had no return plan, but he knew what the X-Men had planned, well, more specifically Erik. He was going to kill Galan, and if that happened that eliminated every chance Peter had of getting his soulmate back.

Peter made a choice the second he left the mansion, he’d rather be in an alternate reality with you than in this reality without you.

Besides, he was sick of his friends telling him he should “move on”, you’d only been gone six months and everyone was acting like waiting for you was a hopeless waste of time, it was driving him insane.

You were it for him, he wouldn’t move on for as long as he lived and he knew you felt the same, but, regardless of that, he wanted to find you sooner rather than later.

Your side of the bed didn’t smell like you anymore, your favourite blanket (which Peter had shoved in his rucksack that he brought with him) didn’t hold the same warmth as it did when you’d wrap it around his shoulders. To put things simply, missing you was eating him alive.

He was following leads to get to Galan and finally, in a dingy motel in some lesser known area of the south, Peter found him.

“You’re one of the X-Men aren't you? Here to agree to my terms? Took you long enough,” the mutant spoke lowly, his grumbling voice all the more intimidating in the dimly lit room.

Peter stood awkwardly, out of place, while the mutant stared at him expectantly, “Uh, no, actually,” Peter finally managed to choke out after a moment of silence.

Galan scoffed, “Look, like I told your buddies; I’m not bringing the girl back-“

Peter shook his head, cutting Galan off frantically, “I don’t need you to bring her back. I want you to send me to her,” Galan raised a scarred eyebrow at the young man in front of him, he looked like all hell, bags under his eyes so prominent they almost didn’t look real. He had something of a nervous quality about him, Galan thought.

“You’re Quicksilver, am I correct?” Peter simply nodded his head in confirmation and Galan rolled his shoulders, “I gotta admit, it’d be nice to get you out of my way.”

Peter looked at him pleadingly, “So? Will you send me to her?”

Galan nodded his head, there was no downside for him, really. “Don’t see why not. But humour me for a second, kid. What’s so special about this girl?” Galan asked, a smirk on his face that unnerved Peter.

Peter took in a deep breath and looked Galan straight in the eyes, “I love her, she’s sorta my other half. I’m a total loser without her,” Peter tried to sound aloof but his body language and pleading gaze weren’t fooling anyone.

Galan snorted out a laugh, muttering something along the lines of “Ah, young love” but that was the last thing Peter heard before the world around him faded away.

When he came to, all he knew was that he was freezing, which was saying something considering he was nearly always too warm. He jolted into a sitting position, darkness surrounded him and all he could smell was grass and a very faint smell of smoke coming from somewhere in the distance. After a few seconds, Peter’s eyes adjusted to the darkness and all he could gather was that he was somewhere very, very hilly. The noises of wild animals in the distance spurred Peter to get onto his feet and start running.

He ran for maybe one minute until he reached a cozy looking wood cabin. The lights were off but smoke still poured from the chimney.

Too cold and too exhausted to think too much, Peter walked up the porch steps and knocked three times on the door.

“Hey, uh, anyone home?” He called when nobody came to the door after a few minutes. Just as he was contemplating running away a girl he didn’t recognise opened the door. Her eyes were wide and her mouth hung open in shock, Peter wasn’t sure why.

“Come in,” she told him immediately, and again, Peter didn’t question it, the strawberry blonde led him to a sofa and motioned for him to sit down, with a flick of her hand the fire sparked to life and Peter let out a silent breath of relief. Whoever this girl was, she was a mutant like him. “I’ll be- I’ll be right back.”

Wanda practically ran into your room, shaking you awake roughly, a crazed smile on her face like a child on Christmas, “Y/n, wake up!”

You cracked your eyes open with a groan and hid your face against your pillow, “What?” You asked in a whine and Wanda would’ve been endeared by how much of a child you were when you were sleepy, had it not been for the love of your life sitting on your living room sofa.

“Just come on, will you? You’ll sleep better once you see this,” she prompted, you let out a weak groan but threw your duvet off your legs anyway, sluggishly following Wanda into the living room, your fuzzy socks helping you shuffle over the hardwood floors without needing to lift your feet off the ground too much.

“It’s like 3am, Wands, this better be—“ you cut yourself off with a sharp gasp immediately upon seeing him, “Peter?” You asked, this time you had to be sure.

His own eyes widened and before he could even consider giving you a verbal answer, you were completely encompassed by his arms, but that was all the answer you needed.

A choked sob left your lips as you wrapped your arms around him, his back shook and his tears were already soaking through your tee shirt, letting you know he was crying too.

“Y/n,” he muttered against you, pressing feverish kisses all over your face while he took in your appearance, “You’re okay?”

You nodded your head, eyes watery and smile shaky. Yours hands cupped his cheek, your thumbs brushing the tears away from under his tired eyes, “I’m okay.”

Peter’s eyes continued to rack over you, his fatigue catching up to him as your soft thumbs stroked his cheekbones, “When was the last time you slept, Pete?” A sleepy smile formed on his lips at the sound of your voice, he would never be able to articulate how deeply he’d missed you.

“S’been a few weeks,” he answered and your eyes widened.

With a sad smile, you placed a kiss on his cheek before taking both of his hands in your own, “C’mon, you need rest so you can answer all the questions I plan on asking you in the morning.”

Wanda, it seemed, had already slinked back to her own room.

Once you arrived in your bedroom, Peter shimmied out of his jeans before crawling into your warm bed and opening his arms, beckoning you in. You didn’t need any convincing, you happily crawled into bed and let Peter wrap his arms around you as you laid your cheek against his chest.

“I have so many things to say but I’m pretty sure I’m about to pass out,” Peter said softly, squeezing you against him as closely as possible, burying his nose in your hair and sighing gently.

As gently as you could, you leaned up and placed a tender kiss against his lips, “You can say everything you need to say when you wake up.”

“I love you,” Peter whispered, chasing your lips with his languidly, “You’re my everything, you know that?” Of course, you wouldn’t know how much weight the statement held just yet, that didn’t matter to Peter, though. He had you back, the other details didn’t seem so important anymore.

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wandavision x reader #x men x reader #wandavision spoilers #wanda maximoff imagine

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zodiyack · 3 years

Text

Smile

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader

Warnings: Cuteness?, fluff, swearing, no proofreading

Words: 2,191

Summary: A cold winter’s night gives Tommy inspiration to go for the woman he desires. After all, what gentleman would let a lady walk home in the teeth chattering cold?

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @captivatedbycillianmurphy, @stydia-4-ever, @simonsbluee, @marquelapage, @stuckysslag, @darling-i-read-it, @psychkunox, @peakyxtommy, @jenepleurepasbaby, @thewarriorprincessxo, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @fandom-puff

Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist | Cillian Murphy Masterlist

The woman who worked with his family, sitting at the front of the betting shop despite being someone who should never have to see what horrors the Shelbys have. She was the one Tommy dreamt of the few times he’d actually been able to sleep. His heart thundered as he passed her, waving a hand with a kind and welcoming smile, a genuine one at that. His family could tease him all they’d like, but Y/n L/n had stolen Thomas’ heart and he was perfectly fine with that.

However, he wasn’t the best at telling her so. He could talk to her just fine but telling her he fancied her... Y/n was far too innocent. Sure, she wasn’t literally innocent but he couldn’t bear to bring her into the shit-show disguised as “family-business”. The smile she returned to him every time he passed her only reminded him of that.

“Mr. Shelby? You-” His head perked up, expression of deep thought washing away at the sound of her soft voice. Oh, her beautiful voice. It serenaded him without either of the two even realizing it.

“Again, please Y/n, call me Tommy.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he let out a small chuckle, “I promise. Now, what about me?”

“Um... Oh! Yes! You have a visitor. I assume it’s about some Peaky Business so I told them I’d get you.”

Tommy nodded. “Thank you, Y/n.” His eyes had been fixated on her long enough to notice more about her appearance than he had a The pink on the tip of her nose, the slightest hue of blue on her lips. “Y/n...come here please.”

“Alright...” She did as she was told. A small nervous feeling bounced around in her gut, alarm bells ringing. Tommy was hard to read, but the request scared her more. Ada was the one who got her the job, Tommy was the one who let her keep the job. Was he having second thoughts?

Before another worrying thought could make its way to her head, Tommy swung his coat over Y/n’s shoulders. A little sigh of relief, yet also a gasp of surprise, escaped Y/n’s lips as the coat began to envelope her in its warmth. Caught in the moment, her eyes flicked to Tommy’s, his to hers. They just stared. And yet, neither of them minded.

His face... It was like a Greek god, or an angel maybe? So imperfectly perfect.

That’s what he was.

She thought about his smile, not currently visible, but always on her mind. It looked so handsome, so charming, and, dare she say, pretty. His smile brought hers to her face. Even if it was hiding in the pits of the darkest, deepest, smallest hiding place on a bad day, his own called hers to the surface almost instantly.

The beautiful blue of Tommy’s orbs, like sapphires sparkling in the light that bounced off them or a mad ocean; the rage secretly a symphony as each wave crashed and washed away, a symphony only those who stopped to listen, actually listen, could hear. She had so many words and ways to describe the almost child-like look in his eyes, full of a hidden innocence ironically enough, but a knock at the door tore them away from her before they even reached her mouth.

“Mr. Shelby? If you and your...uh...friend are done here, I have some business to talk with you.” The man was impatient. Luckily, his scare drew an instant reaction from Y/n. She had hurriedly turned around to face the guest with a flushed expression across her face the moment the door swung open. With her attention elsewhere, she missed the wince the man elicited from Tommy when he called Y/n his “friend”.

“Yes. We’re done. Y/n, you may go back to your work now.” He excused her with the same lift of his lips he’d always given her, only this time, the corners of his mouth were a little higher, a little closer to his eyes. This was progress.

A thin sheet of snow, white as angel’s wings, cloaked Small Heath. The waters were slick with ice. The cold wrapped its arms round Birmingham, Mother Nature hoping to warm her children and herself regardless of her cold skin. It nipped at the tips of noses like she was booping her finger against them in attempt to draw a smile from her shivering children.

Tommy cursed to himself. It felt so much colder than it did at the start of the day- one person on his mind upon the realization. Y/n had left a little prior to Thomas, just like she did every other day. Her reddened nose, her trembling lips as her teeth subtly and silently chattered, her fragile form even more so with her arms wrapped around her and Tommy’s coat in attempt to gain warmth. The images never seemed to leave his brain, especially not when she returned his coat.

He began to walk home, still focused on Y/n. Pondering up a variety of situations, good and bad, he tried to reassure himself. Constant anxiety was not new for Tommy. He worried for his family, for his friends- for Y/n... Too much was on his mind but he couldn’t seem to shake any of it off.

Although he was looking straight ahead- looking where he was going, he wasn’t entirely paying attention. A grunt slipped from his throat as he walked into someone, knocking them over and causing him to stumble. Normally, he’d just tell them to watch it, but as he regained focus on what’s in front of him rather than what’s been bothering him, he paused.

She too was surprised, having literally been knocked off her feet by none other than Thomas fucking Shelby. Her head jerked upwards to see who had walked into her, a similar intensity as Tommy’s. But she softened as well, untensing when his face, those baby blue gems, came into her view. He looked so puzzled, so...guilty.

“Fuck!” He was quick to drop the ground and help her up, checking her for any form of injury. “Are you alright, Y/n?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Are you alright? You look frightened-”

“I wasn’t paying any attention to my surroundings, I must’ve walked right into you. You know I didn’t mean for that to happen, love? It was purely on accident. Is there any way I can make it up to you? Anything at all?”

“Tommy. It’s alright.” The way she said his name was comforting. Her voice was soothing as usual. Her hand came to his upper arm, a relaxed and friendly grip. She gave him a squeeze, letting him know she meant it, that she was serious. “But, before I answer your second question, please, answer mine.”

Thomas was ready to ignore her, lips already parting to ask her again, but the sincerity of her concerned demeanor crumbled the facade he’d put up. He released a heavy sigh, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “I’m just- ...worried.” It took a lot for him to admit some things, but the feeling of relief that surged through him after he told her...it felt like she took the burden from his shoulders.

“About what?”

He looked around for a minute and then suddenly stopped. Now that he thought about it, they weren’t that far from his place. He looked back to her. Her form was just as cold as it was this morning, the color of her lips had darkened, likely from longer time in colder weather.

“How about this. You come with me, to my place, we warm you up, get you a cup of tea, and then I’ll tell you.”

“W-what? No, Tom, you don’t have to-” There it was again. His name. She was like a siren, luring Thomas Michael Shelby, the helpless sailor, his name entwined with her voice- her melody. Her form did not change, as it was her he desired most.

“No, I do. I’m the reason you were on the ground, I’m the reason you’re covered in snow, but I’ll be damned if I become the reason you freeze to death out here.”

“I won’t-”

“You live quite some distance away,” his final attempt, a pleading sigh to mark it as so, and he was determined to make it a strong one, “...at least let me drive you home.”

She looked to be in serious contemplation of his offer, biting her lip and rocking back in forth to collect some warmth from movement before she returned her eyes to his. “...Fine.”

“I’d still like to get you warmed up though, so you can’t turn me down about that, yeah?”

The air escaping her parted lips could just barely be seen. Huddled by the fire, wrapped in Tommy’s sheets with a mug in her hands resting close to her face, the sinister chill was retreating from her body. Tommy felt his heart speed as he watched her. It felt...right. It felt right to have her be safe and warm, just as it felt right to have her there, with him.

Though a number of feelings were checked as “right”, there was a rather large one that didn’t. There was a feeling that wasn’t right, that hadn’t been satiated. His feelings for her poked at him, urging him to kiss her, hug her, ask her, to do something! Anything!

“You going to tell me what was on your mind, or was that just a trick to get me to accept your ride home, Mr. Shelby?” The grin that was present on her lips could be practically be heard as she asked the question.

“Not a trick, I promise.” His chuckle brought a chortle to Y/n’s mouth. He walked to the fire, sitting beside her. “I’ll tell you. But first...you have to promise me something.”

“Yes, anything.”

“Promise me that you won’t go spreading my business where it doesn’t need to be.” He took a deep inhale, exhaling it as he prepared to speak his next request involving her reaction. “And promise me this won’t affect our relationship.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion. “...I-... I promise, but, ...I don’t understand how it could make a change between us?”

“It just...” He lifted his hands, scanning his brain for the right words. His hands dropped, making a small sound as they hit his thighs, the sound hidden only slightly by his sigh. “It just can.”

“How so? I mean, surely it’s-”

“I was worried about you.”

“O-oh? Thank you, that’s very-” She didn’t understand. But how could he blame her with her lack of context?

“No. I was worried about you because I seem...” a pause to get it out. “I seem to have fallen in love with you.” He looked into the fire with an intensity. He looked at it as if looking at her would make him crumble on the spot. The moments passing by without any response from her made the fire so much more entertaining. Tommy Shelby couldn’t be scared by much, he’d already been through war, but this? It scared him.

A part of him wanted to look at her, see the reaction just in case it was just a lack of verbal response...but another part didn’t want to face the disappointment. Y/n was a nice woman and Tommy could never bring himself to hate her. Losing her would be hard, but seeing her at work would be harder. Tearing her from the job she cherished would be harder. He couldn’t do that to her.

Luckily, “Your eyes are so pretty...” he didn’t have to. “Your eyes, your smile- everything about you has the stars jealous of its beauty. Personally, I wondered if our lips would meet. Today, in your office. It took everything in me not to surge forward, taste your lips on mine.” She snickered lightly, “Excuse my bluntness.”

“I like your bluntness. I only wish I’d been gifted with it.” He joined in, turning to face her, finally. He took a moment to admire the way her features looked in the orangey light from the fire. His eyes, observing her face with great interest, traveled to her lips before flicking back up to hers.

“Is that so?... Well, Tommy, now’s a good time to be blunt.”

“Pardon?”

She’d seen it. Fixated, just like him, on his eyes, specifically. “If you want to kiss me, just say so.” She’d caught him, easily with how entranced they both were.

He thought to himself. What’s blunter than saying he wanted to kiss her?

It happened in one swift motion. One second she was giving him a smug quirk of her brow, the next, her lips her locked with his. They pulled away, slowly and hesitatingly. “That was...as blunt as I could be.”

A laugh erupted from her. The sound sweeter than the songbirds. Then, Tommy smiled. Even if he wouldn’t be her target, in a boat on a restless sea, he knew, without a single doubt, that he’d go to her willingly. In fact, he did. And upon reaching the siren, perched on a sturdy ledge-like-rock, he realized she meant no harm. Tommy smiled. The smile reached his eyes.

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kingmaker-a · 3 years

Text

To Fall | Siyeon Star Wars AU

Sequel to Temptation Warnings: Brief depictions of death, war, fire, injury and vomiting. Mentions of refugees, blood, character death and scars. Brief mention of lightsaber forms But is mostly replaced with vehicle nerdiness. Angst warning, though it can be avoided if you stop reading after they sleep for the night.

Genre: Star Wars AU - Padawan! Siyeon X Skilled! Gender Neutral Reader.

Wordcount: 5551

Average read time: 22 minutes

"How good is your piloting Siyeon?" You asked as you approached her starfighter. The plan was to punch a hole in the Separatist offence to allow the transporter to reach hyperspace.

"Better than yours y/n," she said as she entered the cockpit. You noticed it was a customised variant of ARC-170. Typically a starfighter piloted by a trio of clone troopers, you noticed a lack of a third seat for a tail gunner. "Don't think I forgot about your dad trying to teach you."

Your father was a kind and patient man but you could tell even he was reaching his limit with you. "You were his favoured student in that regard," you said with a smile.

She notices your eyes scan over the seat behind her almost hesitantly. "Oh, right. I ripped out the tail gunner seat and replaced the co-pilot seat with a swivel seat," she explained excitedly, her face alight with radiance. Her hand rotated the seat behind her before she locked it in place with a lever on its right side. "The co-pilot controls also swivel so you can adjust shielding while using the gunner controls, which I moved closer to the co-pilot seat. I wanted to just put a camera in the back instead of putting everything on a swivel, but I couldn't find any decent displays or cameras when I was last on Tatooine. Regardless the swivel was cheaper."

You couldn't help but smile as she got last in her excitement. You knew she always loved tinkering with things. You remember when your dad would tinker with his project ship and how he struggled to get it to work. Siyeon hesitantly approached him at the age of six and suggested recalibrating the foils so it wouldn't over-heat. Your father was at his wit's end so he accepted the idea eagerly. The pure excitement on her face as the ship surged to life was a happy memory.

"How come you did all that?" You asked curiously, though part of you knew that'd just be happy to talk more about her ship.

"So I could make it faster, duh." She said with a laugh. It also had the bonus of being surprisingly spacious for an ARC170. "I also removed the old astromech socket since it was fried to shit. Not to mention it'd make it super hard to see the tail gun. You'd be shooting blind. It made plenty of room for an auxiliary engine and some hyperdrive mods."

You jumped in the cockpit noting that it was surprisingly well finished on the inside. There weren't wires everywhere like her earlier projects. You did notice a small astromech peer up at you from its spot on the floor.

"That's R3K5, don't mind him. He's really friendly once you get to know him," she said with a smile.

The mech beeped in response, when you were younger you knew a decent amount of binary. But, that knowledge had faded with time in the Jedi temple. Though you could tell he was giving Siyeon shit about something. What exactly you didn't know.

You watched as she turned to glare at him slightly. Probably in an attempt to get him to shut up. "You better be quiet Wreck or I'll fuse you to the ship," she said with a half-defeated sigh.

"What was that about?" you asked cocking an eyebrow.

"We just have the sort of relationship, where we talk shit." She said noticing your lack of understanding. "You really forgot binary huh? I mean I'm not surprised, the only reason I didn't was early on in my training with Master Castor I was isolated from other people. I found Wreck in a destroyed starfighter and fixed him up."

Despite their dynamic, you could tell by the fixtures around Wreck that she cared about him immensely. No part of the astromech was exposed outside and the metal surrounding his domed head was probably the thickest part of the ship. No doubt if you asked her she'd say something about it being a weak point to have your astromech on the outside or the thick plating was to protect the mods she made. "How fast can this thing go?"

"120 MGLT, though in theory, I could probably push it to 130." Without even seeing her you could tell she was smiling as the starfighter began its lift-off sequence.

"Jesus christ Singni, that's faster than even the newest Jedi Starfighter," you say in shock as you feel pride emanate off of her.

"Your dad taught me well, though I don't know if I can actually drive it at that speed," she quickly adds as you leave the hangar bay. "Do you think you could switch on comms?"

She passes you a headset as you switch on comms.

"Wolf-1 reporting for duty," she called out through comms as you noticed the fighting happening around you. "Any surviving pilots I need you to form on my six."

However, before she even gets a response she's already bursting into action. You were lucky your seat had a lock otherwise you'd have no doubt thrown up. You heard Wreck beep at you from below, before Siyeon could even attempt to translate, you understood.

Behind.

You quickly unlocked your chair and swivelled to the gun controls. You saw a squadron of droid fighters staring you down. Well as much as droids could at least. As you began taking shots you felt your view flip upside down as Siyeon took evasive action.

This was gonna be harder than you thought.

You watched as your shots veered too wide to hit their marks. As you attempted to compensate you could hear Siyeon speaking under her breath.

"6....7....8..9...10." It took you a little to realise those were the number of droids she'd destroyed. Despite her hard work, clone ships were falling around you. Even as you tried to reach out to the force to assist you, you failed to hit your marks. However, as you tempted the idea of digging deeper as explosions rippled around you and corpses of clone troopers filled your view.

You felt something, the embrace of fresh air shrouded in moonlight, the embrace of home.

The embrace of Kashyyyk.

You tossed cans in the air as Siyeon tried her best to hit them with arrows. Every time she was about to hit her mark you nudged it slightly with the force. She couldn't notice at the time as her own force potential was in its infancy.

Honestly, you figured she didn't have the potential.

You could hear her frustration before she steeled her concentration, a look of determination crossing her face.

You did as you usually did and tossed the can in the air. However, as you nudged the can to the side it landed with a thud.

Arrow, dead centre.

Being the child of your parents you decided to experiment. After all, it could've been a lucky shot. However, no matter how much you altered the parameters she'd always hit her mark.

Even if you nudged it as hard as you could last minute.

As you felt the smell of wroshyr trees embrace your soul, you saw through her eyes.

You saw rivers of light in the night sky. The stars are the destination and the journey. You traced the art of the galaxy with your eyes before snapping back to reality.

You watched as your shots landed mid-barrel roll. Flowing like stones down a river. "You're welcome," you heard behind you.

"Thanks, Singni." You said as you fired a couple more shots picking off some stragglers.

"This is Wolf-1, we've punched a hole in the separatist blockade. So you're free to move Grave Squadron." She points out. "We'll cover your exit, though beers are on you back at Coruscant, Grave-1."

You hear a laugh through comms. "Sure thing Commander Lee."

You watch as the transporter holding the refugees left the hangar bay with a squadron at its rear.

it was oddly quiet, which unsettled you as you watched the transporter's hyperdrive power up.

Something was off.

You felt it before you could see it. You felt your thrusters kick into action as Siyeon surged her starfighter forward. You watched as Siyeon fired her entire complement of proton torpedos into open space.

If you didn't feel it yourself, you'd think she finally lost it. "Grave Squadron initiate your hyperdrives now," she commanded desperately.

"Yes, commander," you heard as a separatist frigate boomed into view. Though you noticed her torpedos had slipped behind their shields due to their sudden appearance.

You watch the transporter and Grave squadron blip away as an explosion rippled through the frigate.

"Be a dear and engage the hyperdrive," she said sweetly but you could feel the nervous energy emanating off of her.

You hastily engaged the hyperdrive letting Wreck choose the destination but, just as you were about to take off into hyperspace a stray laser connected with one of your thrusters.

You felt a sudden jolt as entered hyperspace.

You heard a collection of clicks and beeps from below your feet.

You hear Siyeon sigh, "what's the news?"

A pause and then another collection of clicks and beeps.

You hear Siyeon take a deep breath. "Alright, just pull us out of hyperspace near a hospitable planet and I'll release you from the socket."

Wreck beeps.

"What do you mean you can-" She says as her starfighter is violently ripped out of hyperspace.

Before you stood a sulfuric yellow nebula as you floated slowly towards it. "I'm gonna need your help with this one since Wreck doesn't know where we are," Siyeon pointed out grabbing the controls.

You quickly looked over the controls deciding to pump most of the power into the shields just in case. "What'd you need me to do?" you asked.

"I'm gonna need to connect to you through the force to help guide me through here. I'm a bit drained from earlier," she said as you felt the smell of the wroshyr trees of Kashyyyk fill your soul. You extend your connection forward to her.

"You can't play with y/n, little one," your master said. You open your eyes to see you're on Kachirho beach. Your master crouched beside a toddler Siyeon. "They're your greatest friend aren't they?"

She nods me meekly at the giant Wookiee.

"They are very sick and we don't know what will happen to them." He inspects Siyeon closely, "Does that scare you?"

She nods her head again once again. "Then believe young one, believe in the force to guide you through life. Then fight with the strength of your ancestors at your back," he smiles as he pats her. You felt no fear in his heart at his words. They were not whispered lies meant to assage a child's fears.

He meant them.

You felt flashes of memories through your brain. The ghost of a coughing fit leaves your lips as you stare back into young yellow eyes. You can see the weakness in the small child, most of all you can feel it in your chest.

You snap back to as Siyeon lands in what looked like a ruined city. If you had to guess by all the overgrown vegetation this city probably was abandoned thousands of years ago. As the cockpit opened up you felt a rush of something come over you as you scrambled to get out.

As your feet hit hard concrete your body purges itself of your recent food. Siyeon quickly rushes over and checks on you. "Is your vision okay?" worry audible in her voice.

The whole place just feels off as you wobble for a second before settling. "Yeah, I'm fine. Probably all the Gs catching up with me," you suggest.

"Alright, y/n. Just try to take it easy okay?" She asks rubbing your back slowly.

"Where are we anyway?" You asked as you wiped your mouth with the edge of your robe sleeve.

"I dunno, navcom and Wreck had no data on this place," she said pressing a button to disengage Wreck.

"Well, that's odd considering people lived here at some point." You pointed out. A piece of stone covered in vegetation caught your attention.

"How long will repairs take Wreck?" she asked the small purple astromech. The boom of thunder in the distance meant the planet wasn't going to do you any favours.

You heard a succession of clicks and beeps as you brushed away the vegetation. You were greeted by a symbol, a hexagon with six arrows extending outwards contained within a slightly bigger hexagon.

It meant nothing to you.

"12 hours?" she says astonished, he beeps in response. "No, I don't wanna help you in the pouring rain."

Almost right on queue, the sky begins to flood with rain as Wreck can only watch on as Siyeon grins as she skips over to you. "I think it's time we found some shelter don't you think?"

You couldn't agree more as water slowly seeped into your robes. "Lead the way commander Lee."

You're able to find a suitable source of shelter in the form of an old hotel. Though you originally planned to find your own room Siyeon was able to convince you to share a room for security reasons.

After all, if something did happen to either of you. It would stand to reason that'd be easier to react as a duo. Though it didn't calm either of your nerves.

Despite the lack of power, you manage to safely start a controlled fire while Siyeon made a makeshift chimney shaft.

Still wearing your soaked robes was doing you no favours. So you slowly removed your outer robes and accompanying armour pieces. Though you take some time to look over your gauntlets. They had the same finish as Grave's armour, a gift from him for your birthday. You would later learn from some of his troops that he'd spent days forging them himself to afford the best protection for you.

You vaguely remember the material being extremely important.

As you're left in an undershirt, which was nothing but a glorified singlet, pants and boots you could feel Siyeon's nerves spike. You turn around to see her avert her eyes with a gulp. "Everything okay?" You ask as she looked back towards you.

"..Uh, yeah I was just building up the courage to do the same," she said her eyes scanning over you. You'd definitely developed a lot more muscle since the last time she'd seen you on Kashyyyk. Her eyes traced your muscles until she noticed the small scars and burns on your arms.

You watched her slowly disrobe her upper half leaving her in an undershirt much like your own. "When did you get those?" She said looking at your arms.

"The older ones were from temple training from years ago. The newer ones? Geonosis." You said solemnly, Geonosis was your first real foray into combat. All the other times had been controlled situations. You still did better than most padawans that were drafted. You had Master Droll to thank for that one, he did his best to shield you from it as best as he could.

You peered over at her seeing if she had scars. She lacked any you could see. "I'm glad you did well on Geonosis," you say quietly.

"I wasn't on Geonosis," she whispers back. "I didn't become a padawan until a week after Geonosis."

"That's good, Geonosis was a mess. One minute, me and Master Droll were on a diplomacy mission on Naboo, the next minute we were on Geonosis fighting for our lives," you remember watching Padawan and Jedi Master alike falling around before spotting someone you hadn't seen since your initiate days. A Mandalorian girl who had been relegated to the service corps after her Master turned to the dark side. She shouldn't have been there.

You remember an explosion knocking her off-kilter sending her lightsaber flying. You dove in front of her calling her lightsaber to you as you attempted Jar'kai Shien for the first time. After all, you never really needed more than one lightsaber at the temple. Her lightsaber ignited into a golden-hued yellow. You held both in a reverse grip to defend a wider area behind you.

She sat there reeling from the explosion, her ears ringing the entire time as you defended her position. However, for every bolt deflected back there was five more. For every droid, you successfully destroyed with Shien another one would take its place.

Their march was endless and unceasing. Eventually, a shot nicked your knee causing your form to falter as you slipped onto one knee. Yet, you still did your best to deflect shots as you attempted to stand back up. Unsuccessfully at first, you could feel the whisper to embrace the pain to push through. But you remembered your Master's teachings and trusted the force to guide you.

"Grave, I'm gonna need a gunship or something to save a downed padawan," you asked, not exactly sure on what you were allowed to ask for.

"Right Commander, I'll send a detachment as soon as I can. Where is the location?" He asked over his transponder. You could hear the howl of combat roaring fiercely on his end.

"On me, I don't know how long I can last," you pointed out as shot skimmed your elbow. While you tried your best not to scream out in pain. Grave no doubt heard as you heard him politely requisition the biggest gun he could find.

"My commander needs me and unless you wanna be on the other side of this gun I suggest you get me on next gunship asap," he grunted before turning off his transponder. You realised he'd been quieter in the subsequent months after Geonosis. Though you were told he did get in trouble after Geonosis.

You fought through the pain as you deflected another three shots before you were hit in the thigh of the opposite leg. Then another in the shoulder, yet you still fought as your vision blurred slightly from the pain. Your movements get slowly by the moment.

Even when you were close to blacking out, you continued to fight. You attempted to dig into the force remembering your times with Minji. Hoping you could pull off something with half her power as you just tried to push forward.

A gust of wind is summoned from behind you. It was nowhere near as strong you wanted. However, as you watched a familiar Wookiee jump overhead lightsaber as blaster fire rained down from above.

Back up had arrived.

You were surprised to see only Grave bringing down absolute hell down on the droids. The rest of the detachment were medics looking over the Mandalorian girl. "Thank you, Commander, we may only be clones of a Mandalorian. But, we respect you looking out for one of our own."

You smile as you stumble over before getting caught by Grave. "There's no rush kid, she'll be alright. Ah, General Droll."

It would see your Master had fended off the assault. "What's the plan Master?"

"You're getting exfilled," he said as he gestured towards the gunship.

"I can still fight," you said attempting to stand without Grave's assistance. Only to faint.

"You've got a good kid on your hands."

Siyeon frowns at your words, which surprises you slightly. You were used to her having some sort of front, even when she nearly died she held it up. "I passed my initiate trials the day Geonosis happened. I remember hearing about Geonosis, I begged any Master to let me be their Padawan."

"Well that's certainly one way to become a Padawan," you teased with a smile. She quickly hit you in the knee and not softly.

"I'm being serious here," she said staring you in the eye. "I wasn't thirsty for battle like other initiates. I was... just. I was just."

She takes a deep breath as her eyes flutter rapidly. Her eyes clamp shut. "I was just so worried about you y/n." You see her try her best to fight it off but the tears flow anyway. She does her best to try and hide it.

You reach out with your hand which eagerly clasps with her own. She turns back to you. "I thought I'd lost you," her voice cracks as she speaks. Yet she continues, "I was finally catching up to you and then you get drafted into a war. I was so scared you were dead in a ditch somewhere. I'd already lost you once."

You pull her closer as she begins to sob into your chest.

Slowly her sobs lessen as you lie down on the floor. Her head resting on your chest as you rake your fingers through her hair. The rain brought you comfort as the fire embraced you with warmth. You closed your eyes and imagined you were still on Kashyyyk. You were with Siyeon embracing life without war or the force.

Peace.

You feel Siyeon's hand caress your cheek, you open your eyes finding yourself back in the hotel. She looks up at you, the warmth of the fire highlighting every beautiful feature on her face. She smiles sweetly at you, "sorry for waking you." She whispers.

"It's okay, everything alright?" You ask softly, her eyes entrancing your own.

You watch as her smile falters. Replaced with a rarely seen seriousness. "I'm not losing you again."

Your hand caresses her cheek, you watch as she smiles tenderly at your touch. "You won't," you promised her eyes scanning your lips.

She seals your promise with a deep kiss. Her luscious lips met yours in a moment you'd dreamed of. Elation spikes through your blood as she runs her hands through your hair.

Your lips part begrudgingly.

"I've been wanting to do that for so long," she said with a smile.

You're awoken by a feeling not so much as a noise. You quickly rush to the bathroom as your body tries to purge itself once again. Thankfully nothing comes up as you wash your face in the sink. However, as your gaze shifts to the mirror, you notice your eyes are yellow.

You blink and it's gone.

Before you can even rack your brain you feel a disturbance enter the vicinity. You quickly rush to the bedroom summoning your lightsaber to you. However, as you notice Siyeon's sleeping form and how peaceful she looked you couldn't bring yourself to stir her.

Hopefully, the problem wasn't too bad. You don your robes and armour as quietly as possible.

You find the disturbance drawing you to what you assumed was the city square. The rain pelted down harshly as you scanned around the rubble.

"Welcome to Dromund Kaas, capital to the old Sith Empire," Someone cackled from behind a plume of smoke. Footsteps indicating their approach. A red blade cackling to life through the smoke. "As well as the birthplace of the Conspiratorum."

You watched as the figure left the smoke revealing Master Castor. Though the Echani looked vastly different than when you last saw him. Gone was his refined appearance and his stoicism, replaced with a manic look in his silver eyes and what you hoped was red paint marring his face. His silver hair unruly and messy.

It seemed his whole personality had been a facade as you noticed even noticed his double-sided lightsaber had been replaced for a single saber.

"Now then, who should I take on as my apprentice?" He said, his smile making you grimace. You ignite your lightsaber watching as steam flows off your blade.

"I'd never be your apprentice," you scowl as you entered a defensive Djem So stance. You hear him tut his mouth at your words.

"You have no choice in the matter y/n," he points out with a laugh. "It's either you or Siyeon. Her attachment to you will lead to her fall."

You hated hearing him speak. You could tell he was taunting, the worst part was that it was working.

"But, to think the attachment went both ways," he laughed yet again, it was grated your ears. "So now I get my pick of the juiciest fruit for the Darkside."

You were sick of hearing him talk, your legs dug into the ground as you pounced at the former master.

He deflected your blow with the greatest of ease. "You have no chance against me young l/n. I'm an Enchani, combat is the language of my people. Don't think I didn't study your movements. I know what move you're gonna make before you do."

You can't help but scowl as you feel frustration building within you. You took a deep breath as you adjust your form. Form II otherwise known as Makashi or the Contention Form. You disliked using it after finding out Count Dooku was leading the Separatists.

But as a result, this would no doubt through Master Castor off. "How about this Master Castor?" You said with a smirk.

However, he only smiles in turn. "Yes, yes! You have surprises that definitely puts you ahead of Siyeon. But, Master Castor I am no longer. I'm known now as Darth Atrocitus of the Conspiratorum," he said with a gleeful look in his eye. He was almost boasting to you. You could feel waves of pride coming off of him.

Taking that as a signal to attack you dashed deftly to his weak side and attempted a jab with your blade. However, as Atrocitus when to parry your strike, you danced backwards before engaging once again. You were relying on Makashi's footwork to see you through this fight.

Or at the very least to allow you to survive long enough for help to arrive. Though you disliked the idea of Siyeon being around for this. Though you hoped your Master was still hot on Atrocitus' trail.

"Thinking of your master in a moment like this?" Atrocitus teased blocking your strike before pushing you back slightly with the force. "Your Master won't be coming Padawan."

His hand gathered a drop of blood off his face. Before tasting it. "Wookiee blood does taste so good."

You feel your rage flare to life remembering the small moments with your Master. He looked after you like he was your older sibling. You remember when rations were tight on Geonosis and he sacrificed his rations to make sure you were well fed.

The day he proudly returned to Kashyyyk his eyes alight with pride as he showed off to his parents. He promised that he'd take you back to see your parents when you became a knight.

A promise you were eager to keep.

A promise, now unfulfilled.

You quickly reverted to Djem So as you assaulted Atrocitus with an unending barrage. Each blow was stronger than the last, each strike slowly casting aside his guard.

Yet his laugh howled in your ears. "Yes, get angry. Hate me! Kill me!" He taunted, "Give into the Darkside."

You hated every fibre of his being. You wouldn't let him anywhere near Siyeon even if it was the last thing you did.

You could the dark clouds of the Darkside slowly infest your mind. You only needed to embrace it for a moment longer as you tossed Atrocitus' guard aside.

"Strike me down," he commanded.

A decisive blow was all you needed. However, you could feel your mind corrupting under the influence. The moments in the hotel flashed back to your mind.

Her sweet doe-eyed smile as you shared in an embrace.

Destroy him.

The tender embrace of her lips.

Leave nothing behind.

How could you bring yourself to be with her if you crossed that line?

You hesitate as you feel the embrace of the light side.

"Weak," Atrocitus utters as he shocks you with Sith lightning. Sending you reeling backwards as he launches you away. Your head connects awkwardly with rubble and your vision goes blurry.

"You fall before Darth Atrocitus the Conspiratorum's Wrath," he utters with glee. "Siyeon will serve me well as an apprentice."

However, you hear the ignition of a lightsaber behind you. Your skin basking in its crimson glow as a black-clad figure steps over you. Their armour was ancient and worn. You feel like you're caught in a storm of pure malevolence. Yet you feel oddly safe like being in the eye of a hurricane.

"A pretender wishes to take up the title of Wrath and my name," You hear the figure state calmly. You still hear the makings of an imperial accent even through the rasp of the helmet. "A facsimile of a Jedi. A mere runt in the ways of the force. I'll show you the true power of the Darkside."

Siyeon peered over the pyramid in her hand. The Holocron of one Darth Nox. No doubt a wealth of knowledge and power. It was at most an insurance policy, something to dig into if your life was in danger.

She still tossed over the idea of just destroying it now to avoid temptation. Your scars came to mind and she knew she wouldn't have the heart to destroy it.

She's brought out of her thoughts by an explosion of Darkside energy. She quickly activates her transponder. "Hey is y/n with you Wreck?" she asked worryingly.

"They're not with me lover girl," the droid quickly responds. "Your ship is ready to go though."

She doesn't respond instantly knowing you're in the thick of it. She hastily puts her gear on and races towards the city square.

Her eyes catch you and a man that looked like Master Castor. However, his movements were slightly off, they didn't have years of experience like Master Castor. Those small differences told her that he wasn't Master Castor.

A clone, she reasoned.

She was thankful for teaching her to recognise people like an Enchani. A skill that had come in useful many times.

That's also how she knew you weren't the one in control. Your movements had too much experience and practice. Like someone who had gone through decades of war. Not to mention the change in favoured lightsaber form.

Juyo, the seventh form otherwise known as Ferocity Form. A form that had been banned in recent times due to it tempting many to the Darkside.

She watched as you effortlessly fended him back, you were toying with him. "You're not even a real Jedi and you pretend to be Sith?" You laugh slightly, the accent unrecognisable to Siyeon. But it was foreign.

"I will lead a New Sith Empire," Atrocitus barks back even as his strikes get bounced back against your pure ferocity.

You deflect another blow before sending him careening into a wall with tremendous pressure. The wall begins to crack as you express more power in the force. "Dromund Kaas does not welcome you, would-be Atrocitus. You have no Sith blood in you."

She notices your yellow eyes look at her and she feels the fear surge in her heart. Scared she'd have to fight you under the influence of some other thing. She didn't want to hurt her y/n.

However, its influence over you falters as your feelings surface.

Atrocitus makes his counterattack as the external influence fights you again for control. "You really had me going there for a second runt."

His boot connects with your chest, you stumble backwards fighting the influence begging for control. Atrocitus knocks your lightsaber out of your hand with a smack.

Siyeon can only watch on in horror. Her legs carried her as fast they can but she knows she won't be fast enough.

"Y/N!" She screams as Atrocitus only smiles as he swings at your head.

She watches as your body slumps over like a ragdoll. Sorrow surged through her veins as she stabs Atrocitus through the heart as he smiles.

Pain brings your mind back to the front. You feel pain sear into your soul across the bridge of your nose, just below your eyes.

Nothing breaks you more as you watch the yellow fade from her eyes.

You feel Kashyyyk burn around you as you feel her heartache as she looks at you.

She knew something was off about Master Castor, she knew that she should've said something when he first started acting strange. When he first started asking about you instead of worrying about her sense of attachment.

But instead, she viewed it as an easier way to find you again.

She was supposed to protect you, not send more harm your way.

You tried to say something, anything as shock began to grip her heart. But the pain gripping your body prevented you. You were barely still awake as it was.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered as cinder and ash filled your lungs. The flames roared to life as she pulled out a knife.

All you could do was watch as she severed her Padawan braid and placed it into your hand. Tears streamed down her face as she kissed your forehead. You felt the sorrow overwhelming her as she spoke. "I'm so sorry y/n."

You watch as she slowly gets up and grasps her former master's lightsaber. You push yourself to do anything, however, all you can do is reach out and croak out a single word. "Sin..gni."

Darkness accepts your consciousness.

Author notes: Sooooo there’s an antagonist group now. Things are now spiraling into me having to make more things up. Anyway I hope this interesting enough that you’ll keep reading. At the very least to see what I bring to the table in terms of flavour.

I hope the angst wasn’t too bad and the character arc set up was at least worth the potential pain. At the very least I like the direction I’m taking Siyeon’s character in this AU. I did originally plan to just make Siyeon a Dark Jedi out the gate. Not that I typically plan things out too much. That was just the vibe I was going for.

Anyway Dami is definitely up next for a chapter this time. Even if you see a teaser in response to this chapter for anything else.

I’m interested to see anyone’s thoughts on what I should do with some of the other members because I’m hesitant to make many more of them force sensitive. Not because I dislike the other members it’s just it feels like a waste to not explore some of the other ideas that are available in an AU like Star Wars

Anyway I hope you have a good start, rest of or end of your day.

Arohanui everyone.

#lee siyeon #siyeon #lee siyeon imagines #lee siyeon x reader #lee siyeon scenarios #siyeon imagines #siyeon imagine #dreamcatcher imagines #dreamcatcher x reader #dreamcatcher #dreamcatcher scenarios #girl group imagines #girl group scenarios #girl group #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop x reader

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justreadingfics · 4 years

Text

It’s a Deal (Chapter 7)

Chapter Summary: How you and Bucky feel about the presence of your ex-boyfriend.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 4.3k

Warnings:+18 only, mention to smut, overdrinking, embarrassing behavior due alcohol consumption, Natasha knows stuff, ex-boyfriend, minor jealousy, minor angst, floof, Bucky has a somewhat creep confession, but give him a break, he’s never been in love.

A/N: Another smutless one, I hope you don’t mind. Thank you to my sweet Les for having my back. The link to my masterlist, where you can find the other chapters, is on my description. Feedback is highly appreciated.

Tag list for this story is closed.

Previously:

Your shoulder brushes against him as you walk past Bucky and he turns his body around, following you with his gaze. He takes a long sip of his drink and places a hand inside his pocket, watching as you approach your ex-boyfriend.

He tries hard to bury deep down inside him the tug on his chest.

“Oh, fuck…”

Natasha’s curse makes him turn to her and he realizes she’s been watching him, with a dumbfounded expression he’s not used to see on her face.

“What?”

She scoffs and shakes her head, seeming in an estate of disbelief, “This whole time I’d been worried with the wrong person.”

No point. Bucky sees absolutely no point in trying to make it like there isn’t turmoil twisting inside of him. Not for Natasha, anyway, it would be to no avail. Also, he’s pretty sure there’s a kicked puppy look on his face to make it harder for him to put on any kind of façade.

“Fuck,” he sighs and run his hand harshly over his face, “What the hell is this, Natasha?” He whines, failing at trying to not sound as helpless as he does.

“You tell me, buddy.” She points at him with her glass of vodka, tilting her head with interest.

“Shit,” he exhales, looking down, before his face snaps up at her, “I’m … just weird, I’m not myself these days.” Bucky bites his lower lip as if trying to somehow refrain from spilling the words, but he just can’t, he’s dying to let it all out. He steps closer to her and lowers his voice as much as he can with the loud music beating around them, “I’ve spent almost every day of the last month with her. I have absolutely no desire to see or think of another woman and I have to restrain myself constantly, cause if I had it my way I would call her every five minutes to check in on her, and… and when I’m thinking about her - which is all the time, I fucking swear - I wonder if she’s thinking of me, and now? I mean, right now? I feel like snatching the blade right now on my ankle and shooting it right on that fella’s throat.” Finally taking a breath after his rambling, he points in your direction, before turning to see you right when you’re letting out a small laugh at something the punk has said.

“Wow…” Natasha lets out a whistle.

“A few days ago,” he turns back to his friend, “I snuck into her closet to find out the name of her perfume. And you know what I did next? I bought a large bottle for myself, like a fucking creep,” sheer frustration plasters on his tone.

“Oh my…,” Natasha snorts at the same time a mix of incredulity and amusement shines on her eyes, “That’s definitely creepy and it’s even worse than I imagined. The almighty Bucky Barnes, the I’m a whore and proud,” she thickens her voice playfully, moving her arms in a mimicking way, “The I don’t do romance and attachments king is a tiny lost puppy with big blue heart eyes, aww,” she inclines her head as if she’s thinking of him as exactly how she’s just described him.

Bucky tries but he can’t actually find the amusement in all of that. The fact one single woman is making him feel that way is entirely new, unpredictable and… scary as hell. He has no clue where to go from there.

Natasha seems to swiftly catch on his little inner self torment and, after letting out a deep sigh, she puts on a small smile and shakes her head, “Don’t worry Bucky, it’s probably a crush. A big one. But only a crush,” she places her hand on his arm, giving it a squeeze, “Y/n is one of my best friends and I know how delightful it is to be beside her. Maybe you’re just infatuated…”

“Maybe…” he exhales and shrugs, “I wouldn’t know… all I know is I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. Not that I remember…. but I’m pretty sure I would.” He looks at you again while you’re still talking to the Eddie guy.

“They have history,” Natasha says in a kind voice, following your gaze.

“I know.”

“He was her first and only boyfriend.”

“I know.”

“She thought she was going to marry him.”

“Damn Nat…” he breathes out his frustration, dropping his head for a moment, before raising his downcast gaze at her again, “Yeah, I know that, too.”

“But you’re Bucky fucking Barnes,” she snaps in a more cheerful voice shaking his arm with a enthusiastic force, “Don’t forget that, buddy,” she shoots him a warning glare, “Also, I’ve never seen a brighter smile on that woman than when she’s talking about you,” she beams.

Bucky’s heart jumps and a quick breathy smile surges on his lips before he takes in a shuddering breath, “I’m not sure what I should do, though.”

“Well, figure it out,” she lets go of his arm and taps on it, “My advice for the night if you should accept it is let it flow,” she shrugs. “Go on with your thing and see what happens. Just try not to hurt you or her on your way, though,” Nat warns.

“I’m not even sure I-Wait,” he frowns after his gaze is drawn to the spot where you are again, “Did that fucker just leave her alone?”

He instantly struts towards you, ignoring Nat’s snicker.

~~~

“Hey,” you smile, gulping down the nervousness down your throat as you approach your ex-boyfriend. The one you haven’t seen ever since he broke up with you months ago.

“Hey,” he offers you a tight but kind smile back.

You halt on your way, the awkwardness building up a barrier on your way as you’re not sure what to do next. Should you give him your hand to shake? Hug him? Do nothing at all? Not once before you had thought that moment would play out between you and Eddie.

But he seems a bit more resolved than you and shrugs, leaning forward and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “Congratulations again,” he says, still holding you, “You’re the best and most hard working person I know, you deserve it.”

The small smile in your lips grows wider and you accept the compliment, relieved that the awkwardness seems to be tamed. While you’re so close to him after all that time, you notice he’s wearing the same perfume he’s been wearing for years, the one which would make you sneeze all the time, but you never really said anything.

“Thank you,” you lean back, sniffing discreetly to suppress the sneeze threatening to come out, “I’m happy you could make it,” you add. The fact he’s arrived all by himself grasps your interest, considering how everyone around you would tell you he was probably seeing someone else… however, if he did have someone, he wouldn’t bring them to your party, would he?

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it,” he says with a gentle tone, but the formality is still there, you notice.

You two engage in some small conversation and you can’t help but to take him in and realize that, just like the perfume, Eddie looks exactly the same with everything else. The same hairstyle, same grey t-shirt you gifted him on your last Christmas together, the same constant half smile while he talks… he still speaks quietly, letting out just a few small words, which has always forced you to be the one to push on the conversations…

It’s… familiar… even comfortable, you dare say. But if you’re going to be honest with your own feelings, ever since he walked away, you thought you would be yearning to feel that familiarity again, that it would lead you to a sense of… home.

Why it isn’t quite like that, though?

“You look different,” he says as the subjects of small talk seem to come to an ending point.

You put your previous thoughts aside for later consideration.

“Oh…Different good or bad?” you ask, tilting your head with a small pull in the corner of your lips.

“I don’t know... just…different, I guess,” he frowns and quickly puts on that half smile of his.

“Oh, well… it’s been a while…“

“Yeah… I guess you’re right,” he says, regarding you with a wondering look in his eyes that makes you shift on your knees, “Listen,” he clears his throat, “I was wondering if we could meet to talk one of these days.”

“Oh,” you draw in a breath. Talking to him, having a real conversation, is something you’ve been wanting to do for a long time. It still feels like you don’t fully understand why you’re broken-up. Regardless the time it’s passed, you still feel attached to him somehow, like, no matter how exciting and new, you’re now living someone else’s life and not the one you had planned for you years ago.

“I mean,” he adds before you can give him a proper answer, “We still need to figure out what to do about the condo.”

The words are like cold water thrown at your face. There you are, thinking he wanted to talk about your relationship, but what’s really on his mind is the condo you’ve bought together. Swiftly, you work on putting a small smile on your face, “Yeah… sure, you’re right,” you nod.

“Hey! Eddie!”

Both of you look towards the female voice and your eyes fall upon a beautiful young woman you recognize as one of the members of SHIELD’s tech team. You’ve worked with her on a joined project of the two organizations before. Chloe… you believe her name is Chloe.

She’s waving at Eddie excitedly, calling him over the little group she’s with. She doesn’t seem to notice you’re standing next to him until her gaze meets yours. The wide grin on her face drops into a quick cringe before she nods in a respectful manner and shifts her look away, whispering something at one of the guys in the group.

When you set your attention back on Eddie, you tighten your lips just as you notice how the bone on his throat bobs right before his flustered eyes meet yours again.

“I-I, ahm, gotta go,” he runs his hand on the nape of his neck, “Can I call you later?”

“Yeah, sure.” Your voice comes out calm and controlled.

“It was good to see you,” he says, before placing his hand on your shoulder, “Congratulations again.”

After you give him a small nod as a thank you, keeping the tight smile on your face matching his, he walks away towards the group and the woman. The one your friends kept warning you about, apparently, given how uncomfortable he seemed to be in front of you after you saw her. As soon as he gets there, you see the two of them talking in hushed words. He keeps a safe distance from her, but his hand on her arm is where your gaze sticks on.

You don’t have the slightest idea of what’s happening with your feelings right now. Minutes ago you were realizing the familiarity of Eddie wasn’t what you expected it to be anymore, but now, seeing him so close to someone else… a beautiful woman, to be more specific, with her long black straightened hair and fancy blue dress holding each one of her beautiful curves…It just crushes you. A lump grows in your throat and while your gaze flicks around, you feel small… lost… picturing ways you could flee away from your own party at the same time ten years of your life flash in your mind.

The cold, yet gentle touch of metal in your elbow is what takes you out of your own head, “Hey, everything alright?” says the silky and soothing voice.

Your gaze meets Bucky’s while he stares at you with concerned eyes. Those gorgeous blue eyes of his…There’s already a bit less turbulence inside your chest and mind. You think nothing of it, though.

“Yeah, yeah…” you smile, “He, ahm… Some friends called him. He had to go.”

Bucky just lets out a hum – which sounds more like a groan – staring over your shoulder to where the little group stands.

“He said he wants to talk…“ you start, and don’t see when Bucky’s breath hatches catches on his throat, his eyes back on you, “About the condo,” you press your lips, “He said he’ll call me.”

While your gaze gets lost ahead, you have no idea that the sadness in them pinches deep inside Bucky’s chest. If you could read Bucky’s mind at that moment, you would find out that the fact your reencounter with your ex-boyfriend hadn’t ended up in some sort of hope for reconciliation hasn’t left him sad at all, but the lost look in your eyes… makes him wanna hold you in his arms and never let go. Not before punching a douche in the face, of course.

“Oh, come on, sweetheart,” he wraps his arm around your shoulder, side hugging and pulling you closer to him, “You’re the fucking boss now and, look around, ” he gestures with his glass of whiskey to the crowded and jazzing place, ”You have a damn Stark party just for you. We’re all here to celebrate the badass motherfucker you are. You’re not just going to let anything ruin your night, will you?” The corner of his eyes crinkle as he grins at you.

You let out a small laugh, the heaviness inside you slowly slipping out of your body as you allow yourself to synchronize with Bucky’s vibe. You can always trust the upbeat way he presents the world to you to lift whatever mood of yours up. You look down at your empty glass and shrugs, “I might need a refill, though…or two,” you shoot him a warning look.

Bucky’s smile stretches even wider and he lets go of your shoulders to offer his arm, nodding towards the bar, “Shall we?”

You gladly accept his suggestion by wrapping your hand around his elbow and walking with him, not even noticing that Eddie’s gaze follows you with piqued interest.

~~~

Quite a few more drinks later and after listening to Tony’s very nice and very Tony speech on his toast to honor you, you’re already fully invested in your party again. Bucky stays by your side most of the time, but you also come across with a lot of your friends from work and a few others, who are all more than happy to put you high on a pedestal for your promotion and party with you. It stings a bit when Camilla, your friend from work, tells you she heard Eddie and Chole are really together, but two or three more drinks after, you end up hitting the dance floor with a few friends by your side, not even seeing when Eddie leaves the party early, right before Chloe.

You’re happy to see that Amanda, one of Bucky’s friends you met that night in the club, has made it to the party, but you’re already too tipsy and it slips from your attention when she comments on how Bucky has been quite distant from her and the other girls for almost a month now.

If you’re going to be honest, you end up not truly noticing a lot of stuff since you’ve been drinking a great deal more than you’re used to, probably due the drill of having a kickass party thrown for you mixed with the unexpected sight of Eddie with a potential new girl - after months without seeing him. As the alcohol does its thing in your senses, you don’t notice the way Bucky looks at you, the way he holds you a little bit stronger when you’re dancing together, how he glares at the guys who tries to approach you or the fact he only leaves your side when he knows you’re comfortable and safe.

All you see and feel now is the music and the lights as you sway your hips to the beats. The party is almost coming to an end, but there’s still a small crowd of people enjoying their last moments there. The alcohol, the music and your friends, more precisely Camilla, Olivia, Amanda and Nat – the last two in the middle of a flirting contest you fail to notice, as well – are the ones around you. The buzz clouds your mind in a delicious way until your back bumps into a hard wall. Your weakened knees give in but before you hit the floor the wall wraps around you and holds you still.

Oh, you know that hard wall of muscles… You know it pretty well.

“Hey, there.” A foolish smile plasters on your lips at the same time the back of your head leans against the wall so you can see his face. His gorgeous and ungodly sexy face, “Your face is sexy,” you decide it is a very good idea to tell him that now.

“That right?” Bucky smirks, holding your gaze.

“Oh, yeah,” you clumsily turn around to face him, prompting him to grab you tighter since you stumble a bit on your toes. You curl the hand holding your glass around his neck, “And you’re big, too,” you don’t even notice but you’re a slurring mess as you speak and look to see your running hand down his broad chest, roughly probing his muscles, “Very, very big,” you exaggerate a sultry tone, the alcohol erasing any kind of subtleness or refinement in you or the notion that there are people around you, while your hand explores further down his body to say it’s not just about his muscles you’re talking about.

“Sweetheart.” Not making a big fuss about it, he gently grabs your wrist over his lower stomach to place it around his neck along with the other one, ”I’m very flattered to hear that, you’re one very nice piece of ass yourself, too,” he engages with you, keeping the playful tone.

You let out a girlish giggle, turning your face towards your friends, the trio now whispering and laughing among themselves as they watch the both of you, “He said I have a nice ass,” you shout, not realizing how loud you actually are as you lift and shake your hips, making your friends laugh harder and causing you to trip on your toes once again. But of course Bucky catches you before you fall.

“How many drinks, so far, huh?” Bucky chuckles, keeping the hold of his arms and eyes on you.

“Three or four,” you answer with nonchalance, bringing the glass to your lips as you hold yourself on his neck, only to pout when you notice it’s empty.

Your friends scoff at your lie behind you, “You can add at least ten more to that count, sweetheart,” Natasha shouts from behind you, punctuating the word sweetheart with a teasing pull on her mouth.

You make a dismissive face only Bucky can see, “Nonsense, check out what I can do,“ You step back from Bucky with the intention to put on a yoga pose you’re sure will convince your friends of how ok and steady you are and as soon as you lift your leg, you trip again and this time Bucky is not fast enough to catch you before your ass hit the floor.

The four of them rush to help you out as tears fall down from your eyes at how much you’re laughing, holding your glass up. It’s Bucky who ends up picking you up, though.

He and your friends shower you with questions to check if you’re ok but it all falls like a blur sound to your years.

“Ok, I guess it was a bit more than three or five,” ignoring the curious eyes around your group, you laugh making an ok sign with your hands before your stomach churns and you grimace, placing your hand over it, “Oh…” your face drops.

“Alright, come one, let’s go,” Bucky supports you with his hands and urges you to walk with him.

“Where are you taking me?” You frown, sounding almost offended as he takes your glass from you and hands it to Natasha, gently pulling you along.

“My place… let’s freshen up, come on,” Bucky patiently says, nodding at the girls to say goodbye, who just nod back, knowing you would be in good hands.

“Ooooo, bye girls, we’re going to his place to freshen up,” you wink exaggeratedly and make air quotations with your fingers, addressing your friends as you clumsily walk away with Bucky.

~~~

“Bridal style,” you loudly announce stretching your hands and legs to the air as soon as he steps inside his living room with you in his arms.

Bucky can’t help but laugh as a snorting giggle follows your words. If he had his way he would’ve carried you from the party, but he didn’t want to attract even more attention to your state. So, on the second trip on your own feet inside the elevator he picked you up. It would be easier that way.

Bucky carefully puts you standing on the floor and, as soon as he’s convinced you can stand on your feet without stumbling or falling, he turns to shut the door, only to have you jumping on him as soon as he faces you.

“Hey, hey,” he manages to say softly, placing his hands on your hips as you shower his mouth and face with sloppy kisses which taste strongly like fancy champagne.

“What? Let’s freshen up,” you answer in a log slur, dragging your lips on anything of him you can reach.

Bucky laughs, pushing you away with a gentle yet steady touch, looking deep into your eyes, “That’s not what I meant… not when you had so much to drink, sweetheart.” He flicks his thumb on your chin.

It takes a moment or two, but realization – and disappointment- finally dawns on your face, “Oh… you meant freshen up for real…” You shut your eyes and tap your hand on your forehead.

Bucky thinks you’re too damn cute for your own good.

You focus on him again, “Are you sure, though?” You insist, shoving a finger in your mouth and tilting your hips, putting on before him the unsexist pose Bucky has ever seen.

Yet, it’s the most adorable thing and his annoying heart swells inside his chest for you as you keep your attempts of seducing him, “Yeah, I’m sure,” he nods unrelentingly, holding back a laugh and waiting to see the follow up of your shenanigans.

“But I’m horny and I wanted to suck your big dick,” you pout, crossing your arms and thumping your foot against the floor.

Bucky takes in a deep breath. He is only human and can’t help that his poor cock twitches at your bratty whine. But your glossy half open eyes and dragged voice reminds him he’s the only one sober enough to make decisions in the room and therefore, his buddy down there needs to chill, “I’ll be more than happy to allow you to do so,” he’s amused when your face light up, “But not tonight, sweetheart,” he puts his hands on your shoulders and turns you towards the kitchen, not without spotting the dirty look you give him.

“You’re no fun,” you complain, barely able to put one foot in front of the other before you stop and swirl around, trusting on his strong hold to not let you fall wearing a devilish little smirk on your face.

Bucky cocks an eyebrow, waiting for whatever mischievous pearl will come out of your lips now.

“What if…” you start before a hiccup interrupts you, “I show you my boobies?” You offer, leaning over and pressing your breasts together through your dress, “You looove my boobies,” you wiggle your eyebrows suggestively even if your eyelids can’t even remain wide open.

“I do love your boobies,” Bucky can’t deny, not hiding his amusement.

Apparently, that’s all you need to hear before you throw yourself on him again. Bucky swiftly catches you with a huff, but you can’t do much more than circle your arms around his neck and rest your head on him.

“Love your muscles,” you mumble quietly against him, “There are so many of them.”

“Come on, sweetheart,” Bucky tries, “As much as I love your boobies and you love my muscles, now it’s not the time. Now it’s time to get you some water, maybe a sandwich, huh? Then I can prepare you a shower and you can rest a bit and… Y/N?” Bucky calls when you’re too quiet- not even making a sex innuendo when he mentions a shower.

He listens a not so soft snore as a response and looks down to see you completely dozed, with your mouth agape against his chest. He sighs… still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, goddammit.

“Guess we can skip right to the resting, then,” he whispers through a fond smile.

Taking you in his arms he walks towards his bedroom and places you on his bed. You only stir a bit when he gently removes your shimmery and apparently uncomfortable dress and unties your heels. He dresses you in a t-shirt of his so you can rest comfortably. He manages to make you drink a little bit of water, to which you whine graciously enough, and, after covering you with a thin blanket – because he knows you’re never really that cold at night, no matter the temperature in the room – he moves to get up and maybe take a shower for himself.

“Bucky,” you mumble and, without opening your eyes, you move yourself to nuzzle against his metal hand sprawled on the mattress, “You’re not going to leave me, are you?”

Bucky is absolutely sure you have no idea of what that question really means to him, how it falls upon the rising tangle of feelings inside him… which is all for you. Wonderful and beautiful and special you, who came unannounced and stirred up something in him he never thought possible. Something he just doesn’t know what to do with.

Moving meticulously slowly not to pull his hand and wake you up again now that you’re deep back into slumber, he lays down beside you. For your question… he doesn’t say anything. Simply because he doesn’t know the right answer yet.

~~~

To be continued.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes floof #it's a deal #it's a deal chapter 7

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lorei-writes · 3 years

Text

Blue Ribbon [of Fate]

Masamune x MC Smut

Word estimate: 2.2k

...He would just... look... good this way...

Contents / Content Warnings: dominant MC, (slight) bondage, blindfold, sex while injured, blow job(s), vaginal sex, pain mention, injury mention

The scent of desinfectant rose into the air, the smell being both familiar and jarring, especially when put right below his nostrils. A cloth dabbing liquid pain into his broken lip, Masamune closed his eye and forced his muscles to relax, the burning sensation spreading down the side of his face alongside the touch of his lover, then carefully inspecting all his bruises and minor cuts. He let out a reliefed sigh, her fingers tracing a path down his neck and over to his chest, skilfully avoiding the few sore spots scattered in their way.

She pushed, and he fell, although he wasn’t quite sure as for why, his back hitting the soft futon below them before he even got a chance to wonder. Masamune opened his eye, Mai staring down at him, concern mixed with… Something he was not quite sure of. “What’s the –” he cut off sharply, her teeth grazing his neck, her lips searching for his pulse and latching onto it, a red mark soon blooming where they laid. She, however, pulled away, her cheak brushing against his. “You have no idea how scared I was when your letters stopped coming and all we had were rumours,” she whispered. An arm by his head supporting her, Mai straightened her back slowly, tilting her head as to meet his gaze. “I’m so… I just…You’re back,” she let out finally, dropping lower again. “Kitten –” he tired again, fervent kisses spilling over the line of his jaw, from his cheeks to his nose, forehead, eyelids, her touch a feather when at the corner of his mouth, not daring to go any further.

A stolen humm of approval, a stray gasp as her teeth nibbled on his skin, her breath growing hotter. Mai sat up straight without a single note of a warning, his eye snapping open and staring at her in surprise… She, however, refused to answer the quizzical look, the tip of her finger beginning its journey at his jaw, tracing the path down his neck, stopping only at the very edge of the collar of his yukata, all to tap it lightly. “I do not plan on letting you out of bed in the near future. How you spend this time is up to you…” she hummed quietly. “And if I wanted to spend it with you?” “Then, of course, I’d have no choice but to oblige… On several conditions, that is.” “Several conditions?” Masamune asked, propping himself on his elbow and sitting up a moment later. “Yes, since you’re quite beaten up and I really do think you should rest. I want to take the lead today.” His grin appeared gentler than usual, perhaps for the fact that he had to subside it, lest he wished for his lip to break open anew. “Is that all?” “No,” Mai replied, cupping his face. “Second condition: do not even try to kiss me. No touching or moving without permission either.” Masamune nodded in reply, half-consciously leaning into her hand, her thumb brushing against the edge of his scar. “And lastly, I have a question: blue or red?” Not quite understanding how the matter could connect to their plans, he raised his eyebrows, her smile confusing him further, her thumb venturing over to the unscatched part of his lip. “Haven’t I told you I’d tie you up if you returned so tattered again?” she hummed, withdrawing her hand. “So?” “Blue.” Masamune swallowed thickly.

A moment passed before she returned, a pair of scissors and a roll of thick shiny ribbon in her hands. Unhurriedly, she straddled him, Masamune leaning back as she returned to her caresses, reaching below his collar, daring touch forcing it to open, deft fingers tracing the contours of his body. Her teeth grazed his collarbone, the obi keeping his yukata closed unwiding before he even realised – her nails in his shoulders, Mai pushed him down with what force she had. “Hands,” she demanded, her back straightening as she made herself comfortable, the fabric of her robe barely covering her legs. He obliged nearly immediately, the slight delay causing her to click her tongue.

Blue ribbon forcing his wrists to come together, she tied the ends of it into a bow, a content smile coming over her face as she pulled onto the fabric lightly, a flick of her finger urging him to let them rest above his head. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll break free?” “I have an odd inkling you are right where you want to be,” she hummed, her hand pulling onto his hair as to tilt his head back. Mai bit lightly onto his neck, her tongue sliding over his Adam’s apple. “Unless you’d rather flee from me?” she whispered against his skin. “No,” he rasped. “No?” “No, my Empress.” “That’s my Masamune,” she laughed, grinding against his cock hard as to reward him, the – much dreaded – fabric still standing in the way.

Masamune gasped, her lips descending down the length of his body, fresh marks blooming in their wake, accompanied by traces of her teeth. His muscles tensed, her breath tickling his stomach, few kisses more bringing her even lower. “What would you want me to do?” she asked, eyes fixated on him as she stroke his dick through the fabric. “I –” he groaned, her grip on him suddenly tightening. “You?” “I would like for you to take it into your mouth, my Empress,” he blurted out, and she granted his wish, her lips closing around him the moment the last word sounded off. Slowly, she took him deeper and sucked hard, pulling back the moment she heard him moan. “You’re rather vocal today,” Mai noted, licking the head of his cock lazily. “Should I stop?” “No. Don’t you dare.” She sunk low again, a hum answering her as she entered a steady rhythm, entirely focused on earning herself more of his praise.

His cock twitched, and she pulled away instantly, his hips unmoving despite the pained expression on his face. Careful as not to touch him, Mai straddled his waist, gazing down with a smirk. “What is it? Weren’t you enjoying my service?” she teased, stroking his cheek tenderly. “I was, my Empress.” “Then what’s the sour face for? Did you think you’d be allowed to finish just yet?” “Yes,” he let out a shaky breath, her nails scraping against his scalp. “Selfish thing,” Mai feigned a disdained sigh. “I want some of the pleasure for myself too… Although you can’t provide in your usual ways,” she continued, her gaze anchored in his lips. “Does it hurt?” “No.” Mai nodded absent-mindedly, reaching behind herself as to give him a few pumps. “Good,” she hummed, sliding down his body.

Her fingers curled around the base of his cock, and she sunk onto him in one motion, her impatience showing in how wet she was. Her robe spread further as she rode him, her body tilted back for his dick to hit the one spot that sent elecricity through her. Her hands over his thighs, she let herself look away, her eyes soon closing just regardless – and he watched, his dick glistening whenever it emerged from between her folds, her pussy beautifully exposed, the collar of her yukata sliding open bit by bit. Her command was clear, for him not to even dare shy away from using his voice, so he let his praises be known, Mai humming alongside him as her walls grew tighter, sweat coming onto her skin and causing her to glow. Her pace grew frantinc, nearly disorganised, each breath a whimper in disguise…

Her hand slipped, her thumb pressing too close to the bandage, a jolt of pain surging up his leg. Masamune held back a wince, yet his muscles tensed regardless, her gaze mildly confused – and for all he could tell, she was so close, only falling down from her heights due to the minor mistake and the concern it caused… He jerked his hips up, rellying more so on his good leg, Mai falling forward as gaps spilled from her lungs. A few thrusts, although also a few too many, her eyes closing, her clothes in utter disarray… She clenched around him, her walls pulsing rhythmically.

Mai sat up abruptly, his cock still inside of her. “Up. Now,” she demanded, her eyes narrowing. Having drawn his arms to rest in front of his chest, Masamune obliged. “What have you done?” “I broke the rule, my Empress,” he replied, hardly remoresful. She bit onto his ear. “Which rule?” “ ‘Do not move without my permission’.” “So you were well aware of it? My, my…” she sighed, pulling back. “Close your eye.” He accepted his punishment without question, his world hiding behind the ribbon, a knot at the back of his head securing it in place, cool fabric sliding around his neck as well, dropping down by a bit as she tied a bow on him. She pushed onto his shoulders and he fell again, his cock falling out of her, her hips rising only to grind against him a moment later. Her hand appeared on his cheek, the thumb tracing the outline of his lips. “You’re so beautiful now, I almost wish you could see yourself,” she whispered, whitdrawing from him completely.

Masamune listened in closely. Her steps, somewhere around, quieting at a gradual pace… Was she movng away from him? To where? Something rustled and fell soundlessly – and she came near again, her skin brushing against his, warm breasts touching his chest. “Or maybe I should leave you like this and just longue around the way I am? Tease you a little, perhaps?” she laughed, his cock twitching against her stomach. “What do you think of that?” “Cruel.” “Oh? Too cruel for your punishment, you say?” “It’s cruel enough already since I can’t see you, my Empress,” Masamune replied.

His heart sunk, her warmth disappearing from him at once. Did he give the wrong answer? He strained his hearing, something moving by his good leg, her hair tickling him slightly as she traced her nails over the skin below his navel… Masamune groaned, his lover taking his cock deep into her mouth, her head beginning to move in a well-practised rhythm. Her fingers playing with his balls, she worked him relentlessly, methodical in spoiling him with each thing she learnt of him in the years they spent together. Up and down, she caressed him with her tongue, the period of separation they had endured turning his gasps all the sweeter – and she nearly dared be malicious and leave him again, her name sneaking into his moans being the only thing convinving her to stay. Just a little more, a little… A warning came from him, but she ignored it, his cock soon pulsing in her mouth as he came. Bitterness spreading over her tongue, she swallowed it all the same, for the lack of any better alternative at the time.

Mai slowly stretched her back, perhaps a few breaths passing before she moved as to untie his hands. “Can you turn on your side?” she asked, smoothing out the few minor lines left over his wrists with her thumb. “Yeah,” Masamune answered, wincing slightly as he moved and attempted to make himself comfortable. Careful as not to cause him any more pain, she removed the last few ribbons, his eye snapping open. His hand on her wrist, he pulled her into his arms before she even realised, her body flush against his. “The moment I let you lose, you pounce on me, really,” she laughed quietly, her hand on his shoulder. “I would have to be a fool not to, my Empress,” he hummed into her ear. “What would you say if I tied you up one day? I bet you’d look glorious in red…” “Get well first,” Mai snorted, pushing herself away from him. “And more importantly, we need to talk. I told you not to move, haven’t I?” she asked, staring him in the eye. “I wanted you to feel good too.” “I don’t want to come if it makes you hurt, understood?” she stated firmly, cupping his face in a gentle manner, her thumb brushing against the bruise over his cheek. “I know you care about me a lot, but, please, care more for yourself too. I love you, both when you’re leading, and when I take the lead, and when you’re –” she stopped abruptly, his arm hooking around her waist and pulling her forward. “Now you’ve done it, kitten, I swear,” Masamune murmured into her hair, his face feeling oddly hot, embarrassment winning against his tiredness. “My, my, I don’t tell it to you enough if you stop being used to it so fast,” Mai giggled, embracing him back. “Do you want to nap?” “We should wash up first,” he sighed. “I can go first, come here with a basin and wake you up?” “Yhmm…” was the only reply she got, his breathing growing gradually deeper.

Time passed, damp hair falling over the fresh yukata she donned. Having propped the basin on her hip, Mai slid the door to their room open, shy puffs of air coming from behind the folding screen. A gentle smile on her face, she stepped forward, soon setting the dish onto the tatami mats, few drops of water escaping past the rim. Perhaps it was out of habit, perhaps it was simply some odd impulse - whichever it was, she reached forward, her hands searching in the dark until her fingers tangled in the discarder ribbon. Somewhat surprised, Mai followed along its length, the fabric leading to where her lover lay.

Tag list: @nad-zeta, @cheese-ception , @tsubaki3192 , @rikumorimachisgirl Notes: After a bit of internal debate, I decided to tag only people I know for smut, only if they 18 or older. (It is strictly for the sake of peace of my mind). Thanks for your consideration ^^”

#masamune date #ikesen masamune #ikemen sengoku masamune #ikesen #ikemen sengoku #ikemen series #my ff #my writing

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bakubabes-and-ramble · 3 years

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Headcanon: The Gundalian culture is based on individualism, the Neathian culture is based on collectivism

Race interpretation part one: Neathia

Summary: The Neathian culture is built on the core values of communities and collective thinking. While conformity within the society is of a high level, they pursue a 'closed gate' diplomacy towards other races - resulting in a 'bubble' phenomenon and becoming vulnerable to losing their sense of belonging. Centralised urban system, with regional reciprocity and redistribution, whereby the Queen plays a coordinator role, and exists as a unifying symbol along with the military.

(Wall-of-text warning ; with block-breaker illustrations, but a huge amount of information ahead.)

Okay, this topic is something I was thinking about for a long time, and I finally hit the point to collect my thoughts and write them down. I've seen a lot of people trying to build up/further and enrich the cultural and social-political features of the alien races we've seen in the series (namely Vestals, Neathians and Gundalians), and I felt some inspiration to put my take on these things into words.

It's not only intriguing to try one's hand on the world-further-building, but I felt, I have to explain how I imagine the build-up of the Neathian and Gundalian culture and society to make the story of the 'Neathian Special Squad' ('NSS') more understandable 'symbolically' and from the aspect of a 'cultural clash'. /For those, who follow the NSS: This is something that definitely happens later on, you just don't know about it yet./

I have to put a small disclaimer here: This entire piece of writing was conspired out of fun and passion towards the series. It was not meant to be a 100% professor approved scientific research, but a seemingly logical untangling of my personal train of thoughts concerning the fantasy creatures of the third season. And this means, there is going to be some personal opinion mixed in as well (especially at the rewriting parts).

I wish the readers to enjoy reading it regardless. You are always free to disagree or not to take it seriously. :) To me, headcanonizing and imagining things always meant to be fun.

Side note: I'll add canon elements as examples or refer to the events of Gundalian Invaders, although I have to admit, I'll do this mostly from memory. So If I get anything wrong, or just remember incorrectly, you are welcome to add-in or correct me! :)

Season: Bakugan: Gundalian Invaders (and Mechtanium Surge)

Language: English dub

Okay, let's go!

Gundalian Invaders - Slightly rewritten

The first and foremost reason I actually started writing this post, is because I had some issues with the characterisation of the Gundalians and Neathians in the third season. One side is depicted blatantly, purposelessly and one-dimensionally evil, while the other is portrayed to be the goodie-two-shoes victims with no backlashes. I wanted to swing over this simplicity and make an attempt at explaining, how I imagined these races to function. These interpretations were explored with the intention of both keeping the main features of the races, staying canon-compliant where possible, but change canon elements/propose ideas to turn the races into interesting (and on a theoretical level functioning) societies.

For these added or assumed ideas to work, some lore elements have to be changed or removed: For example the way Bakugan got to be on the planets. For this explanation see: a further point below.

This post discusses only Neathia for now. (Gundalia will probably get it's own post, as there is much more canon-divergence to be talked about.)

Neathians

1. The beginnings and core values

Due to the power of the Sacred Orb, almost the entire planet have relished in a lush fertility since the beginnings. (And this is why there are huge plants in their jungles. The wildlife also experienced a great upsurge by the life-force of the Orb.) This prosperity quickly enabled the Neathian race to organize into a peaceful and sharing society, because the wars over resources became redundant and unnecessary. The established racial mindset reallocated the focus from the individual needs to the communal efforts, and gives a ground for the Neathian values and collective thinking up to even the days of the season.

Neathians think mainly in groups: Let those be pairs (e.g. Fabia and Jin as fiancés; Linus and Neo Zipperator as brawling partners), teams (Neathian Special Squad; Friendship circles), communities (Castle Knights), and the biggest of them all, their entire race. These are all bigger or smaller communities within communities, and they play a major role in how Neathians perceive the world and themselves. Being in these relationship structures defines their place, grants them their basic mental frame, which they are able to think in, and not only their resources, but also their goals are shared with each other. This kind of goal assimilation is what makes them really efficient team players, and also provides them a strong social support from a mentalhygiene perspective. This important role of the sense of belonging makes Neathians both empowered while being in close social constructs , and extremely susceptible to losing these connections.

Thinking like this, when Fabia lost her fiancè or Linus lost Neo, their grief extended further than their deaths or the traumatic events. Losing strong bonds like these put Neathians in a technical identity crisis, as it is a part of their personal perception and mental frame which were dismantled through these events. We have seen Fabia going to extremes to retrieve Aranaut - and to retrieve that part of her, which was lost with Jin. Just as when Rubanoid was handed to Linus, a new connection was formed to either replace or continue the old one in a different form. Fabia's communal bonds were successfully restored, when she also became a member of the brawlers.

The Neathian society is based on caring and cooperation to achieve a collective well-being. This is why communities play such a major role in their self-perception and world-perception.

2. Open-sources, but enclosed diplomacy

For most part, I've always imagined the Neathian race as an although proud and generous, but closed society. They share commodities with each other - within their society -, but it is very important, that only within it. The outside world (meaning outside of their habited planet) is fundamentally shut out of these transactions.

I often refer to this phenomenon of enclosedeness as the 'Neathian bubble':

Not only their mindset operates in closed communities, but their diplomacy too. They are generally passive towards other races, missing trust and a reason to pick up the communication /Up until the Gundalians came and the war started/. This perspective could be applied to understand, why could they be more insistent on and better at operating defensive mechanisms (layered shield generator), than initiating communication with the rest of the universe (Unlike Gundalians, Neathians have no ships or bigger means of transportation. Yes, teleportation is accessible for them, but I don't think they use it that often outside of Neathia.)

I treat this as an explanation for why Neathia had only asked for outside help after the second shield generator went down - the situation became desperate and already being involved in the conflict, it was time to try and reach out for aid. According to these headcanons, I also think, Serena wasn't putting - or at least shouldn't have put - faith in the Brawlers so easily. The reason they weren't tested to prove their trustworthiness further than one question, is because she trusted Fabia's judgement. Without the support of a Neathian, outlanders are almost automatically dismissed. Their (or their Queen's) empathy and compassion may overwrite this code, but even by then they have to be made certain by proving the cause.

Just as when Fabia accepted Ren, because she had seen how much he tried to prove himself. Winning Neathians’ trust is supposed to be a big and determining moment, because they ‘internalise’ you into their scoiety.

Neathians are capable of empathy and kindness (this is something they actively practice among each other), even towards outsiders, they just need time and proof to accept them. Trust is just not automatic towards them, and even so they keep their distance until they get used to it.

3. Personal paralel counterparts - Night elves and the Highborne of WoW

When I think about Neathians, I often put them into paralel with the Night elves and the Highborne from World of Warcraft. For most part, I use their artistic motives, architecture, fashion and cultural approach as an inspiration for Neathians, as they are recognised as 'The pretty space elves' in my book too.

Beside the above mentioned, what could be imported from their WoW counterparts is a rather matriarchal social apparat. For example, Neathians traditionally having a Queen, and women being present in the military or in higher positions, playing important roles. //Just as by the Night elves leadership, religious and military roles being traditionally occupied by women (priestesses, wardens, sentinels).//

Another elven impression, which is more or less universal, is their sense of pride (I like to say it as the expression of 'Neathian pride '). Highborne in World of Warcraft are a quite prestigious race and are usually said to be a little 'aristocratic'. I can imagine the Neathians being lightly less, but somewhat similar on these terms, when it comes down to interacting with their own or other races: For example being proud of their appearance (Emphasizing their unique V-shaped forehead with adequate clothing and accessories), structuring buildings and constructs based on aesthetic instead of real functionality (using diamond as the main material of construction, structuring buildings with elegant but futuristic shapes), or being confident and showing immovable standing and opinion on things (towards outsiders).

As far as I know, the Warcraft elves used to be similarly passive and uninitiative - even mistrusting - towards other races too. And in this, it played part, that they also had exclusive access to a powerful source of power and prosperity, the Well of Eternity (an almost one-on-one counterpart to the Sacred Orb).

While the half-tribal connections of the Night elves derive from their ancient bonds with nature and druidism, the Neathian society feels more likely being based on a futuristic envisionment of these social relations. A civilisation that perfectly blends technology (teleportation technology, communication devices) with classic fantasy elements (knights), while still remaining tribal in the core (shared communality is just put into a modern environment). /Although I like to lean more into the fantasy setting, the technical advancement is undeniable there./

4. Overall economy

If we wanted to negotiate about their economy, I would say reciprocity and localised redistribution are the dominant mechanisms of it. The basic definition of economy builds on the premise of distribution of scarce resources. In this case, resources are not scarce, in fact, due to the Orb they are very much prosperous and renewing. This accessibility discounts the value of the traditional market trading, and supports the establishment of semi-centralised recollection and redistribution. The semi-centralisation here means regional production and consumption, whereby the accomodation of the population happens mainly territorialy, but these regional centres still have a connection to each other and the capitol. This economy is based on caring and well-being, and the high level of conformity and trust within the collective society results in a lack of currency usage (so, my headcanon is basically, that they don't use money).

5. Urbanisation and territorial layout

The reason we talk about a more physical apsect of the planets, is because the core values of the races both play a role, and mutually affect how I imagine their civilised hubs being developed. Communities form hubs and cities with strong connections - just like their society!

When I mentioned localised redistribution, I was also refering to the urban structure of the Neathian planet. Important to note, that Neathia is not just a city, or a country - just like Gundalia, it's the entire planet. What we've seen in the show is the capital of their urban system - which makes sense to be technically built around / in the immediate enclosure of the Sacred Orb, for it's the source of the relishing power. Assuming this, along the capital there could be a centralised territorial layout with rural areas (cities, villages), and untouched wilderness (due to the overflourishing flora and fauna; the urbanisation doesn't affect the entirety of the planet, there are a lot of uninhabited/uncharted areas).

Here is a simple schematic illustration of the above.

The rural hubs not having physical connection with other centres due to the dangerous and untamable wilderness (see: Giant plants in the show) could have lead to the advancement of the teleportation technology. The cities are connected through this port-system, and also with the capital, which serves as the centre of the network.

6. The role of the queen and the military

The main purpose of the current Queen is an overall governance with the direct help of a council consisting of the local leaders of the hubs. The queen bears not only a political, but a symbolical importance to the people. The concept of the Queen is a unifying symbol, someone who watches over the nation. The Neathians can stand behind her and being represented by her. But it's important to note, that her status is not as glorified as to be a despotic being, and her power is not extending much further than overall policies, diplomatic representation and helping the transactions of the local leaderships. There is much more power and independence shifted into the regional governance, rendering the Queen's position to be an effective coordinator between them and unifier, who keeps the nation together. /Still thinking about the way the queen is chosen/comes to the throne, but I had the idea of the next Queen being elected by the current Queen, so the order of succession is not based on the Queen’s family, nor being a community vote of the people./

The peace-oriented existence in itself doesn't require a military to exists, therefore I treat the Castle Knights as a mainly defensive organisation. This military serves as Neathia's defenders, bearing symbolic and community building purposes. Among the Castle Knights - just as the name itself suggests - the traditional medieval knight values show up primarily, such as loyality, humility, courage, faithfulness and the act of mercy. In their comprehension, being a Castle Knight is an act of service towards their country and the Queen, and is not mainly for warfare reasons. (To some extent, I assume martial arts and other forms of fighting - even brawling - is essentially a spiritual activity, which they pursue in order to keep their inner- and physical balance.)

As we've seen it the show, I assume the Palace also functions as the military's operation base. The head of the military is the current commander (formerly Jin, recently Elright), and under them operate several divisions with captains as division leaders. The separate divisions are Physical Fighting (both with weapon, like those defensive shock-sticks the guards are using - formerly offensive melee weapons until the fall of NSS - and hand-to-hand combat, e.g. used by Fabia), Technical staff (operating the shield generators and overseeing their areas) and Bakugan Brawling (this headcanon part is still under construction, but Elright used to be the former leader of this, and the reason he was promoted to commander after Jin’s death, is because the Neathians' realisation of the war swinging in favor of the Bakugan fights, so it was logical to put him as the next 'general leader'). /There may be other divisions outside of these, I just put out some ideas here./ Every guard receives education to some extent in all of these fields, but they end up specialising in something.

//The Neathian Special Squad (NSS) had it’s own divison under Captain Pyrehart, they were a special strike team with a unusual task: Staggering, forcing back or just divide the Gundalian leadership’s attention from focusing on their assault. Basically poking them with melee weapons until they either go away, or can’t concentrate on helping their Bakugan on the field and their monsters get defeated. According to the story - made up by me of course - after a tragedic mission this unit wasn’t restored, and the war effort shifted onto long-range fighting with Bakugan, Gear and Bakugan Assaults.//

7. So...where are the Bakugan?

They have been mentioned here and there, but I'm sure, whoever made it this far into this theorising information dump, may wonder at this point: 'But what about the Bakugan?'

My simplest answer is, that I firmly want to believe, both Gundalia and Neathia had a civilised and established culture before the Bakugan appeared there.

According to the original lore, Bakugan existed on the planets since almost the beginnings. Now, this is part of those lore bits I would definitively change during a rewrite: I want to believe, Bakugan only appeared in their very recent history, almost as recently, as on Earth and Vestal itself.

Perhaps a Bakugan lore- and GI rewrite explanation deserved it's own post, but for the further understanding allow me to explain here a little: A similar event of raining cards - what the first season started with - occured on Neathia and Gundalia too, caused by the dimensional boom of Michael Gehabich and his transporter. The twist on this - and the effective solution to the problem of possible timeline inconsistencies - is that although the explosion caused this interference at one point in time, across cosmos and universes time flows differently. So technicaly the result of it - the raining cards and Bakugan being transported into the particular worlds - could happen at different point of their relative times - even years earlier or later! On Neathia and Gundalia it could happened a few years before on Earth, which covers most of the questions of the timeline-consistency /such as Ren being assigned to watch over Linehalt as a child etc./

Bakugan coming to these places has only an added effect: Just as on Earth, they are not (yet?) integrated into the society and culture of the planets so deeply to be any kind of pillar of their existence or basic civilisation. There could be a start (as having specialised researches, technology revolving around Bakugan, taking part in the war,..) regarding this internalisation process, but it still runs on the surface, and not in the 'veins' of the culture.

I hope this breakdown made sense in some form or another. I just felt an urge to pour out the content of my head. Looking back,this became longer and more detailed, than I originally intended, while also surely missing things because there is no worldbuilding without holes or further questions. The attempt to lay down the basics was made regardless haha!

As always, feel free to disagree and follow your own visions concerning the races and worldbuilding. :) This post was made to reflect back my personal interpretation of Neathians - just for fun and thinking out loud.

For the very end, I leave a disclamer here, which was supposed to go at the beginning, but it felt redundant to put there, so here it is:

I tried to approach it from a more sociological side, as focusing on a bigger, overall picture, common features, than create exact statements. (I would rather call this a speculation regarding the features of the races themselves, their core values, common attitudes, mindset - and this doesn't mean other questions are fully out of the picture. We are just discussing things, which can be derived from the features of the society itself, and make up a more or less coherent chain of thought for now. Other 'for fun' or miscellaneous headcanons, like fashion or physical traits will be covered another time.)

Thank you for coming to this TED mambling!

#bakugan #gundalian invaders #neathia #gundalia #headcanon #long post #text #bumblispeaks

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ghostwise · 3 years

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In the days following his final encounter with Danarius, Fenris seeks no company or conversation, yet both seem to find him regardless.

One by one his friends stop by unprompted, bringing food as well as their sympathy. He’s beginning to suspect they’ve devised a schedule for this, making sure someone comes around at least once a day to check on him. So when another knock comes at the door, and he is too tired to even feel anger, Fenris just curls further into his chair, deciding to ignore it.

The fireplace casts long shadows across the hall. The knock comes again, more urgent than before, and he groans, pressing his palms over his eyes. Today is not the day for this.

The truth is, he doesn’t have it in him to feign gratitude or play the part others are expecting of him. He doesn’t need to talk, as talking won’t change anything (contrary to what Renata thinks). He doesn’t need to get away, as his circumstances will be the same anywhere he goes (and Aveline’s voice rings clear in his mind, reminding him that her intervention is the only thing standing between him and a speedy eviction).

When did so much of himself become tied up in other people? It mortifies him. He cannot simply be.

He’s in a poor state, he knows that much. And again that blasted knocking—

Fenris rises abruptly, and finds that he’s shaking. He’ll tell whoever it is to come again another day. A man needs peace and quiet after what he’s been through. Surely they’ll understand that.

He opens the door, not knowing what he’ll say, just hoping it won’t be too unkind—and stops, seeing Leandra at the threshold.

Fenris sighs, and the fight goes out of him. The one person he could never turn away.

“I see my girls were right to be concerned,” Leandra says, looking him up and down. “Well. Won’t you give me a hand with this? It’s awfully heavy—and careful, it’s hot.”

He glances down to see a basket containing a stoneware pot, steaming, on the ground beside her. Wordlessly, he picks it up, and the scent of garlic and spices reaches him. It makes him a bit queasy. He hasn’t had much of an appetite, but he nods politely, stepping aside to let the older woman in.

“Thank you, my dear,” Leandra says. She lifts a hand towards him, then, thinking better of it, lets it fall at her side.

If he had known Leandra was coming, he would have tidied. She follows him quietly into the parlor, where he sets the basket down, and gestures to one of the seats beside the fire.

Leandra sits, and tucks a curl behind her ear. The movement draws Fenris’ eyes to the scar left there four years prior, that night in the foundry. They had come so close to losing her then, and the memory still makes him angry. Yet another thing magic nearly tore from him.

But she does not waste time. Hands folded neatly in her lap, she speaks.

“Renata told me what happened.”

“I see.”

Fenris sits down and laces his fingers together, looking at the unswept floor.

“I understand that you value your privacy,” Leandra continues, “But she’s worried about you. We all are. After all you’ve done for us… As far as I’m concerned, you’re family. That means you don’t have to go through anything alone.”

Fenris looks up at her, brow furrowed, not knowing what to say. This conversation is far beyond his means right now. Her words seem to float at a distance. He can’t grasp them, or relate to them, though he comprehends them on a surface level. He is beginning to wish he had turned her away at the door.

“Shall we eat?” he asks, feeling her eyes on him. He is not hungry, but at least his way he’ll have an excuse for not speaking.

Leandra has prepared a stew of spiced meat and tender potatoes. Little porcelain plates quickly produce themselves from the basket, and she readily fills two of these with the hot homemade food. She pours blackberry and anise cordial for them, and Fenris quietly thanks her, accepting his meal.

They eat in silence for a time. Long enough that the tension settles, and things almost seem normal. Except, of course, they never were normal to begin with.

“I love blackberries,” Leandra says, breaking the quiet. “I remember climbing the ivy-covered trellises of my neighbor’s house as a girl, just to pick the largest ones out of their garden.”

“They must have been tall,” Fenris says, staring squarely into his plate.

“No,” Leandra says, smiling. “I was just rather small. You may have guessed already, but my children definitely take after their father in their height.” She chuckles, as if proud of them, a small woman surrounded by a family of giants.

Fenris doesn’t smile, but he does think about ghosts.

Malcolm Hawke’s ghost has been a presence in his life ever since he met the man’s family, years ago. Sometimes he swears he could picture Malcolm in his mind’s eye, just from how often his family spoke of him. In fact, Leandra once insisted that Malcolm would have loved Fenris just as much as she did. But how could she know that for certain?

Fenris feels haunted. His life is full of ghosts now, including his own. Malcolm and Leto tormenting him.

He sets his plate aside, doubting his ability to keep the food down.

“Can I ask you something personal?” Fenris asks.

“Certainly.”

“Why did you leave your home for him?”

Fenris risks a glance upwards, and expects to see surprise on Leandra’s face, but she just looks at him thoughtfully. There’s no judgment in that face. He can ask her about such things without hurting her or being hurt, so he feels a surge of certainty, and continues.

“Why did you leave your family, your country, everything you’ve known—for a mage? Love is one thing, but his mere existence as an apostate meant he was endangering you by virtue of knowing you. I just need to understand. What form of love is that?”

Leandra sips at her cordial.

“The kind that stands in defiance of every other force in the universe.”

Fenris looks away, dissatisfied by the answer. Now it is Leandra’s turn to speak her mind.

“Love is just sunlight, Fenris; it cannot help that it shines. What we do with it—there’s the tricky part. Too much sunlight burns. Too little, and we wither. No warmth. No blackberry bushes. Of course there’s danger. Danger lurks in all things. That’s life. But the berry is still sweet.”

She punctuates this with another sip of cordial. This time, she’s stalling, carefully deliberating what she’s about to say.

“... But listen to me, please, just a moment longer: You need to find peace, for your own sake. You need not forgive your family. You need not even forgive mages. But find a way to move forward, while giving the pain the attention it needs—and no more. You are the one that matters. You are the one that deserves to know peace.”

Fenris is very quiet, and Leandra peers down into her drink, feeling that perhaps she has said too much.

The truth is, her heart is deeply broken for this boy.

She cannot fathom the things he has endured. She wishes desperately she could reach through time and pluck him away before any of his suffering occurred. Four little children could have been in that home, with her and Malcolm. It would have been just fine.

She thinks about all those years in Lothering. She considers that if Fenris ever has children, they could very well be mages themselves. She remembers washing Carver’s dresses when he was a child, and wonders what he’s doing now, out there in the frightening world. She prays he is not alone.

Suddenly Fenris is kneeling in front of her, handing her a clean handkerchief.

“I am sorry,” he says, genuinely concerned. “I should not have pried.”

Leandra hadn’t even realized she was crying. Embarrassed, she wipes away her tears, before surprising him by pulling him into a hug.

“Nonsense!” she says, feeling him hesitate, then lean into the embrace. “You have nothing to apologize for, my dear, sweet, brave boy.”

#and THEN leandra buys the mansion and just gives it to fenris #rinnywrites #dragon age #fenris #leandra hawke #idk why my brain decided they are best friends but 🥺#i've had this scene kicking around in my brain for years

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bts-hyperfixation · 4 years

Text

Mine - kinktober - day 18

Jimin X reader

Yandere warning

I do not condone the behaviour of Jimin in this fic it is purely fictional. Is this is not for you please check out the other kinktober fics I have, none of the other 17 are yandere related

F!masturbation f!oral

It is the first time in a long time you and all of your friends have managed to get away. Six of you had rented a three-bedroom villa in Cyprus. Roommates had been decided long before the trip had even begun

“I get to stay with Y/N” Jimin had called as soon as the reservation had been booked. You laughed at his eagerness. The two of you had been best friends for the longest time it had seemed like the obvious choice, but it was nice to have the reassurance. You had met Jimin while you were in high school, the two of you had attended different institutions but somehow you’d kept bumping into him – at sporting events he’d be there, randomly in town he’d be there, at the most obscure parties he’d be there sipping a drink eyes meeting yours whenever you walked in the room. You’d always joked that fate just wouldn’t let you not be friends. Actually, before you truly became friends you had attempted to make a move on him. Beyond drunk in some football players back garden, you clumsily dropped hints and tried to kiss him. Instead of taking advantage he just took you home. After that, your friendship was solidified. You never really broached the way you’d acted that night. It was buried deep in the rich history of your relationship.

Once settled in the villa, the six of you were lounging around the pool trying to decide what to do that night.

“We could go for a meal? Couple of cocktails? Nothing big we did just get here” someone suggested.

“Oh come, we should definitely go crazy, lets go skinny dipping on the beach” another proposed. Jimin’s gaze fell to you waiting to see how you’d react to the suggestion. He wanted nothing more than to see you naked, but he didn’t want others prying eyes to see you that way. You should be his… only his.

“How about we go half crazy half chill and go clubbing?” your idea coming as a happy medium, the group nods in agreement. You and the other two girls in your group rush to shower and prepare, readying yourself for selfie upon selfie in beach themed clubs. The guys however hang back soaking in the remaining rays before spending considerably less time preparing for the evening.

Once on the clubbing strip it doesn’t take you long to lose most of the group. You make plans to meet back at the taxi rank at 1am and everyone is gone, the boys running in the direction of the bar offering the cheapest beer, the girls into the bar with the hottest guys. You glance along the line of bars and decide on the one in the middle after seeing a girl walk out with the fanciest cocktail you’d ever seen.

You make your way to the bar and order the fruitiest drink on the menu before making yourself comfortable on a barstool to wait. This bar seems to be relatively quiet in comparison to some of the others. It also provides a nice vantage point for you to watch the world go by, occasionally seeing your friends go with it. Not normally one to stray without at least one friend around it makes a nice change of pace. When your drink arrives, you find yourself chatting with the charming bartender in between his customers. He tells you all about what the locals get up to when the tourists disappear. They have huge beach bonfires with tons of food and drink that go on well into the next morning. He even invites you to the next one they were planning a week from now, just before you leave. The two of you are chatting for hours, you get through six of those cocktails before you even realise you are drunk. Its well passed 1am when Jimin finds you still sat there.

“Y/N” the worry is evident on his face as he approaches you “We were so worried why weren’t you at the meet up point? Why didn’t you answer your phone” you glance at the long abandoned electronic.

“I’m sorry Chim I didn’t realise” your words slur slightly, and you can see the anger flash behind his eyes. You mistake it for anger at you for not keeping your promise. You hop down from your perch on the stool and lose your footing. Jimin catches you before you fall and keeps his arm secured around you. He starts to lead you away but not before you can give the bartender your number. Jimin delivers you to the rest of your friends before heading back into the bar, claiming to need the bathroom.

He marches up to the bar seething

“How could you let her get like that” he spits at the guy you had been talking to.

“Dude she’s a big girl, she can handle herself” he just shrugs it off and turns to go back to other customers but the singer isn’t finished.

“You don’t know her like that! You should’ve just left her alone. She doesn’t need a pretty boy like you in her life” the other man is at least half a foot taller than Jimin and twice as broad, but he doesn’t care. All he can think about is how careless he had been letting you out of his sight, letting someone else flirt with what was his. Luckily, the bartender just scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“Look she didn’t tell me she had a boyfriend, ill back off it’s all good” he puts his hands up in surrender and Jimin accepts, if only because it will start to look suspicious if he is away too long. That and he has already been away from you long.

The next few days are filled with uneventful beach days and house parties. You were gutted that the cute guy hadn’t texted but moved on regardless. Today the boys were supposed to go off and play golf or something, honestly you had kind of zoned out when they started talking, thinking of all the things you could do when you finally had your bedroom alone for a few hours. Of course, it was great sharing with your best friend, but there are certain itches you were unable to scratch with someone else in the room.

You waited until they had been gone for a while before excusing yourself and drawing a bath in the ensuite in your room. You sink into the water and allow the heat to loosen your muscles. Your music is blaring through your headphones to block out the other girls having a water fight downstairs. You stretch one leg over the bath to give yourself better access and start to imagine all the dirty things you would have done to that bartender given the chance. It’s not long until your thoughts drift to the friend you swear you only thought of platonically.

The boys return from their trip earlier than planned, the golf course was closed for the day, so they had gone for lunch instead. Jimin headed straight upstairs, assuming you’d be outside with the others. The sight he is greeted with makes him immediately hard. You’d left the bathroom door open, enjoying the breeze from the AC mixing with the steam from the water. The sounds tumbling from your lips were sinful. Jimin’s hand move almost involuntarily to his bulge, palming himself through the thin material of his board shorts. Moans that mimic yours pour out of his mouth, getting so loud you can hear them through your music. You cease your motions, but Jimin is so caught up in the thought of you he doesn’t notice until you scream.

“Jimin!” you shout throwing a shampoo bottle at his head as punishment for perving. But he doesn’t leave. In fact, he comes straight in and replaces your hand with his own. You are so shocked by the daring action your convinced it’s a dream. That you’ve fallen asleep in the tub fantasizing about him, and it manifested in your unconscious mind. That is until you realise even your brain couldn’t make you feel this good. His thumb rubbed expertly at your clit as two of his fingers explored your hole, curling in just the right ways. His eyes never once leave yours, daring you to ask him to stop. You don’t think you could if you wanted to, your mouth too busy moaning at every thrust of his hand.

Your orgasm comes quickly with the new assistance, and as you come down you really take in the situation.

“Jimin…” you start but your cut off as he lunges forward lips on yours. The kiss is desperate, almost like there’s something to prove. You return the passion, emotions from that drunk night many years ago resurfacing. He pulls away breathing heavily, unwilling to take his hands off your body. The body you are suddenly aware is naked, as if he didn’t have his hand on your most private area just moments ago. The blood rushes to your cheeks as you bite at your lip, unsure of where to go from here. You opt to go with whatever he chooses to do next. He feels around a pulls the plug out of the tub before bringing forward a fluffy white towel and wrapping it around you.

He carries you from the bathroom and places you on the small sofa in the corner of your shared room, before kneeling in front of you and looking at you like an eager puppy waiting for a walk. His hands trail up your thighs and you open them for him. He takes in the sight of your puffy lips, as if committing them to memory. Then with little hesitation his head surges between your legs, lapping hungrily at your sex, lewd whines leaving his mouth in time to the sounds being drawn from your own lips.

“This should be mine, all mine.” The vibrations of his voice only add to your pleasure “If you needed help you should’ve told me. This all I’ve wanted since I first saw you, all I’ve worked towards” the words don’t fully register in your blissed-out state “I want…. to please you… for you to need me… for you to be mine.” He punctuates each sentence with kitten licks to your pussy. Three fingers have now worked their way inside you and your struggling to focus on his confession, all you know is this feels right.

“Yours... all yours” you pant out, caught up in what you think must just be a kink that he has. For the second time he has you cumming, this time all over his tongue. The noises that escape him would make anyone think he was the one mid orgasm, and they wouldn’t be wrong. Finally having your juices coat his tastebuds proved too much for Jimin as he rocked his hips to create fiction, releasing in his shorts seconds after you clenched around his tongue

Kinktober

Masterlist

Taglist

@adventuresinwonderlust @thedarkwinterrose @samros95

#bts imagines #bts fic #bts smut #jimin fic #jimin smut #bts kinktober #kinktober #yandere #100

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charincharge · 4 years

Text

AN: Here’s the fourth and final installment of the Actress AU. It was ready much sooner than I anticipated! If you haven’t read the first three parts, you can find them below. I hope this is a satisfying conclusion for you all! xo.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Aelin squinted against a harsh white light, making her head throb. She went to rub the mascara from her sticky lashes, but her hand tugged painfully. She struggled to focus, her brain slowly catching up with her vision as she took in her stark surroundings.

Her breathing increased as she realized where she was.

She tugged her hand again, wincing as the tube under her skin pulled at the tape covering it. Another tube ran into two smaller ones, inserted into her nose, pushing a steady stream of cold air down her throat.

Despite the tubes in her nose, the overwhelming smell of lemon antiseptic pervaded her senses, and she struggled to swallow down the pool of saliva that formed in her mouth as nausea swirled around her stomach.

It clenched hard, and before she knew what was happening, she was on her side, a thin yellow stream of bile pouring from her mouth into a light pink tub placed in front of her face seemingly out of nowhere. It splashed gently, and Aelin recoiled from the smell, her body sweating and shaking with the effort it took to expel the disgusting substance.

“That’s it,” a woman’s soft voice cooed, rubbing at her back. “You’re okay, darling,” it repeated. Despite being unable to see who was touching her, Aelin relaxed into the woman’s hand as she finished throwing up.

She wiped at her mouth, wanting to get rid of the sour taste in her mouth and graciously accepted a small paper cup of water from another mystery person.

Aelin wiped at her eyes again and rolled onto her back into the lumpy pillow behind her head and finally looked around. The hospital room’s curtains had been drawn, letting early morning sunshine filter in, but it was no match for the harsh fluorescents which shone down on Aelin, making her sweat. Two nurses bustled around her, their light green scrubs swishing as they switched out her IV bag and adjusted the oxygen tank beside her.

“You gave everyone quite a scare, sweetheart” the dark-haired nurse said, smoothing Aelin’s hair away from her face. It crunched beneath her touch, still coated in layers of hairspray.

“What happened?” Aelin croaked. The last thing she remembered was being at the premiere party. But judging by the amount of sunlight streaming through the windows, that was hours ago.

“I’m going to grab the doctor, and she’ll explain everything,” the woman said, her even voice attempting to calm Aelin’s racing heart.

Her head pounded agonizingly as she attempted to nod, and the nurse frowned in understanding.

She shushed Aelin, who hadn’t even realized she’d started crying softly as she readjusted her pillows behind her, trying to make her more comfortable. But it was impossible. Every part of Aelin ached with discomfort.

A beautiful woman with long chestnut curls and caramel skin swept into the room, her dark eyes immediately going to Aelin as she introduced herself.

“Aelin,” she said with a professional nod. “I’m Doctor Towers, and I’ve been treating you since you came in last night.” She paused, taking a step closer. “Do you remember what happened?”

Aelin winced as she shook her head again.

“That’s okay,” Dr. Towers assured her. “You had an accidental overdose.” Aelin’s mouth gaped, opened and closing as she struggled to find the words, but the doctor continued. “You came in with cocaine and fentanyl in your system, which is unfortunately something I’ve been seeing more and more of.”

“Fentanyl?” Aelin asked, confused. She had no idea what that even was, and she certainly had no knowledge of taking it.

Dr. Towers narrowed her eyes. “You are extremely lucky to be alive right now. When your friend brought you in, you were completely nonresponsive.”

Aelin gasped. Fear and shame crashed down on her. She was sure this would be all over the gossip sites. She’d be written off as a party girl, instead of a serious budding actress. Everything she’d endured with Arobynn would be for nothing. Another tear fell down her cheek as the doctor explained her treatment.

“We administered Narcan, which is used to treat opioid overdose and were able to get you breathing again.”

“Opioid?”

The doctor pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “I’m going to assume you don’t know that your cocaine was cut with fentanyl. It’s been used more frequently as filler, but, as you experienced, it can have potentially fatal interactions.” She paused again. “As I said, you were extremely lucky.” Her face softened as Aelin wiped another tear away. “How are you feeling, physically?”

“Bad,” Aelin chuckled through her tears.

“I’ll bet.” Doctor Towers sighed and adjusted her clipboard. “You’re going to experience a lot of pain today. Your body is going through opioid withdrawal now, as well as cocaine. Plus, Narcan has a few side effects as well – stomach pain, nausea, vomiting, fever, body aches. All sound about right?” Aelin nodded. “We’re going to keep you here to monitor your recovery for the next twelve hours. If you feel shortness of breath or like someone is suddenly sitting on your chest, call for a nurse immediately.”

“Okay,” Aelin said, her voice barely a whisper.

“Because of the events that led you here, you’re required to talk to a psychiatrist. She’s fantastic. Her name is Dr. Ytger, and she can help you decide what your next course of action should be.” Dr. Towers smiled, her seriousness dissolving slightly as her eyes warmed with kindness. “In the meantime, there are quite a few worried people, who have been waiting for you to wake up. If you feel up to it, they can come see you one-by-one.”

Aelin’s chest pounded uncomfortably. “There are people here?”

Dr. Towers’ smile widened as she nodded. “The man who brought you in has asked that he be first to see you.”

“Man?” Aelin rasped. She’d been so sure Manon would have been the one to take her to the hospital, hopefully fielding press the whole time.

Her breath caught as Dr. Towers’s eyes narrowed. “Tall, striking eyes. Pacing a hole in the waiting room carpet?”

Her breath picked up, and she struggled to calm herself as Arobynn’s faux-worried face appeared in her minds eye. She could only imagine how mad he was if he was forced to leave his own premiere party in an ambulance. Just the thought of his angry face was enough to have her feeling nauseous again. She was sure he was only here to protect his image. Heaven forbid his muse died.

“Do you not want to see him?” the doctor asked. “Aelin, if you’re in danger you can tell me. I can have the police here, and I will happily kick that green-eyed man to the curb.”

“Green?” Aelin’s head swirled. “Rowan brought me in? Not a man with red hair?”

The doctor shook her head. “No. No red-headed man.”

As relief flooded her body, she must have nodded because before she knew it, the doctor was exiting her room and returning with Rowan in tow.

Despite the pain that surged through her body, Aelin’s chest warmed at the sight of him. His tux was rumpled beyond belief, his sleeves pushed up to reveal his forearms, and dark purple circles on his skin contrasted with his red-rimmed eyes. He must have been here all night.

He perched himself at the edge of the hospital bed, careful to not brush against Aelin beneath the thin blue blanket, and the night came rushing back to her. The carpet, Rowan’s girlfriend, cocaine in the closet with Archer… She felt awful. She’d absolutely ruined Rowan’s night.

“I’m so glad to see those eyes open again,” he whispered, and Aelin could feel a soft pressure build at her throat. For a second, she was concerned it was the shortness of breath she was supposed to be looking out for, but as she took a deep breath, she couldn’t control the sob that escaped her lips.

Tears poured from her eyes, dripping in steady rivulets down her cheeks, down her chin and dripping onto her hospital gown in dark grey splotches as they mixed with her makeup.

Rowan tentatively raised his hand to her face and wiped at her tears, his thumb caressing her cheek with such a softness that it did nothing to abate her crying. Gods, she had missed his touch. She leaned her head into his hand and sighed, her breath shaking with her tears as they stared at each other in silence.

“I’m sorry,” Aelin whispered finally. She had to apologize to him for ruining his night. For bringing him here, for making him stay in the hospital for hours when he should have been celebrating his feature success.

His green eyes hardened as he spoke, though the soft caress of his thumb never ceased. “None of this is your fault, Aelin. None.”

“But, I ruined your big night, and…”

Rowan paused as he leaned forward, his lips pursing as he examined her face. “Baby,” he said so reverently that it nearly knocked her out. “You almost died, and you think I care about some fucking party?”

His fingers slid to her hair, crunching beneath his touch as Aelin tried not to cringe. She was a complete mess. A stupid, selfish mess. But she couldn’t imagine not wanting this, not wanting him. And she would take whatever he gave her.

“I swear I’m not an addict, I just really like the way cocaine smells.” She attempted to smile as tears formed in Rowan’s eyes.

“That is the worst joke I’ve ever heard,” he said, though he chuckled softly regardless of her inappropriate words. “And I know you’re not an addict,” he sighed. “That’s what I was trying to talk to you about last night. Why I wanted you to meet my—”

“Girlfriend?” Aelin’s heart sank as she remembered the circumstances that led to her latest brush with white dust. But Rowan’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“What? No,” he said, shaking his head. “My cousin.”

“Your cousin?” Aelin’s head was reeling. She was in too much pain and too exhausted for this kind of information. She was confused. Yet again.

“Tall? Blonde? Bright green eyes just like every Whitethorn? Walked the carpet with me?”

“Your cousin,” Aelin repeated. She tried to remember the beautiful blonde draped on Rowan’s arm, but she was nothing more than a hazy memory of blonde smiles and hurt feelings.

“She’s a reporter for The Terrasen Times,” he began. “She’s being doing a series of exposes on abusers in the film industry, and Aelin, she has enough to take Arobynn down.” He breathed in deeply, his bright eyes shining as they filled with tears. “I knew as soon as you kicked me out of your trailer that something had happened. But I didn’t get confirmation until I saw you at that press junket. You’re just the latest in a long line of young actresses emotionally abused and threatened and hooked on drugs to control them. I kept my distance because I didn’t want him to use me against you. But… I didn’t think…” His lip quivered as he fought with his tears. “Baby, I’m so sorry I didn’t protect you.”

“I don’t understand,” Aelin said, her mind swimming with his words but not really processing any of them.

“Four women came forward and are pressing charges against him, Aelin. The article went live last night.” Rowan’s eyes pierced through her as she inhaled a sharp breath. “He’s going to jail. He can’t touch you anymore.”

Months of frustration and fear and anger and shame and guilt released at Rowan’s words, and a fresh wave of tears poured down Aelin’s cheeks. Her body shook, as she felt herself freed from Arobynn’s vindictive grasp. Free. She couldn’t even imagine it.

She reached forward and buried her face into Rowan’s shoulder, letting his arms cradle her and soothe her pain. She inhaled deeply, wanting to immerse herself his scent, but all she could smell was stale alcohol and faint traces of vomit. The smell made her dizzy with nausea, and she soon pulled away to vomit into the bucket next to her bed.

She wiped at her face, black smudging against her skin as she pulled her hands away. “Well, that was romantic,” she laughed, though her tone was anything but humorous.

“Aelin,” Rowan murmured her name with a quiet exuberance. “I don’t care that you’ve been throwing up for hours,” he said seriously. “I love you, have been in love with you, since the first time I laid eyes on you almost a year ago, and I need to kiss you right now.” He smiled sweetly, and as he leaned in, Aelin could feel her heart stutter. “Is this romantic enough for you?” he asked, his lips merely a breath away from hers.

“I love you, too,” she replied. Her confession warmed her from the inside out as their matching smiles met in a soft kiss. His hands stroked the back of her neck, soothing her quivering muscles.

His lips pressed against hers again, seemingly unable to pull back, but Aelin felt her exhaustion catching up with her heavily beating heart all too soon. A large yawn escaped her lips, and Rowan pulled back, his hand trailing down her arm to her tube-laden hand and squeezing it gently.

“Sleep,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She squeezed his hand in return and pulled him toward her. “Come cuddle,” she asked with wide eyes.

“I’m not going anywhere, Aelin,” he replied seriously. “Not ever again.”

But despite his words, he climbed into the small cot with her, arms wrapped around her shoulders. And despite the sweat and the nausea and stomach pain, Aelin fell sleep peacefully for the first time in months.

~*~

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#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfic #charincharge writes #actress au #throne of glass fanfic #tog fanfic

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