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#springtime (war is over)
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me: *keeps referring to this as 'a bit of an epilogue' when by word count it's longer than a couple of the other chapters*
Anyway, read on to find out how the Frenchman's wormed his way to a permanent place in the Jobeyverse.
And then... THAT'S ALLLLL FOR NOW, FOLKS! Thank you for reading, and tune in next time!
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itsphoenix0724 · 5 months
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Can You Kill A God? (Azriel x Reader)
Summary: No one will ever forget why you are Death's queen ever again.
Based on another fic I wrote which you can read here
Warnings: Gore, blood, the reader is a little sinister but I love it, SMUT (unprotected sex, breeding kink?, oral: m and f receiving)
Word Count: 2.4k
A/N: I've been really missing Death!Az and Life!Reader recently. Also, I've had an obsession with Get In The Water from Epic the musical and this is what spawned. I did set in Ancient Greece so I did mention a Greek city. Happy New Year!!!
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It started as a petty slight. Some stupid mortal king had said they feared Death more than War, so the god had raged a challenge. Your husband doesn’t normally involve himself in other matters, he had no need.
Eris was irrelevant to him.
Of all the other gods he is the only one who was inevitable, who would be permanent despite all odds. Azriel didn’t even feel the need to acknowledge the God of War, but he had started harming your creations, which was unacceptable in his eyes.
The souls had come into the underworld brutalized, they curled into your lap as you wiped their tears with the gossamer of your gown and told you that they had been sent as a message. You shed your own tears as you escorted them to eternal paradise and Death’s eyes went dark with promise as he cupped your jaw. 
Then he prepared for battle. 
You had to return to the overworld soon, the last phases of winter thawing into springtime greenery. He would sort this mess out before you leave his protection realm. Azriel gathered his allies and they outfitted themselves for combat. He took care to strap the armor to your chest, the gauntlets on your arms, and around your calves, kissing his devotion before securing every piece of metal. You did the same to him taking extra care to protect his heart.
The sight of you almost sent him to his knees.
There are still flowers wound through your hair, nightshade and belladonna make a deadly crown, and the golden glow that seems to permanently surround you bounces off the obsidian steel of your armor.
The battle had been bloody and long, it felt as if you’ve been here for days. Your dress was torn, the cloth shredded around your feet. Blood covered your entire front, caked and cracked into your skin. 
You cannot kill a god. 
But that doesn’t make the battle any less gruesome. 
Nothing would touch you thanks to Death looming over your shoulder. Every attack that may have hit you was deflected by your husband and vice-versa until the God of War catches onto this little tactic and baits Azriel by attacking you. Az had jumped in front of you, a wall of shadows blasting the God of War back a few feet at the risk of wounding him. 
But Death had fallen, red blood spilling sickly and sweet onto the fresh spring grass. It reminds you of a splitting pomegranate as the red seeps out and stains the dirt, every god in the field halts their battle and watches 
You fall to your knees in front of him, vines starting to curl around him as your magic begs to erupt from your chest to protect what’s yours. Eris gloats from his spot hovering in the air, laughing at Azriel struggling to breathe around the blood coming up his throat. The thorn vines wrap around Azriel to ward off any who might try to weaken him further as you rise to your feet. 
“Flower,” he wheezes around a cracked rattle in his throat, shaking his head and trying to sit up. You shush him gently pouring golden light into his chest that does nothing. You are not the Goddess of Healing, life will never stop death, so Az will have to heal on his own. War still mocks your shushing, your tears, calling your magic pathetic.
The earth beneath you starts to rumble. 
You are the Goddess of Life, the Goddess of the Earth, the World Shaker, and you will make every God here remember why you are Queen of the Underworld. 
Rising to your feet, the earth grumbles and shudders under the very force of your erratic heartbeat. War made a mistake waging this battle in Sparta, his arrogance will be his downfall. Your entire body shakes with rage as you stare at Eris from his spot in the air. 
“Get on the ground Eris.” Your voice rumbles in time with the splitting of the earth and War widens his eyes at the splintering ground. Yet, his overconfidence keeps him hovering out of your reach.
“Go home, Little Goddess” He drawls, “You’ve been beaten.” he spits at you with venom in his eyes—a dark, dark laugh bubbles out of your chest like molten lava. 
“If you don’t come down here I will collapse every wall in your city, and kill everyone in it.” You glare up at him, and he laughs shaking his head in disbelief. “Don’t believe me?” You quirk a brow and the rise around the city starts to shake. “Tell me God, what happens when every last worshiper of yours is dead?” His eyes widen in fear then. 
Because that is how you kill a god, you force them into the darkness of being forgotten until they waste away like little more than salt in water. 
Faster than a breath thorn-covered vines shoot from the earth and surround War kicking and screaming, golden light begins to glow brightly from your eyes as your fury hauls him to the ground.
 People seem to forget that Death is the calm acceptance of something coming to an end. Life joins this realm wailing its existence to the stars, Life can be a very violent thing.
You will break him beyond repair, you can’t hear the sounds of Eris choking on his blood, the only noise in your head is the dull thumping of a war drum. He fights back with as much power as he can muster, but you’re barely trembling with the effort it takes to hold him there. The sinister in your smile reflects in his shining, terrified eyes. 
How pretty would it be if lilies sprouted from his lungs? 
Someone may be calling your name but you can’t hear anything, the tunnel vision threatening to collapse you entirely. You might not be able to kill him like this but regrowing all of his organs certainly would take some time. Feeling the golden power writhe and wrap around his heart, begging you to let it off its leash and crush, but it’s then that you feel the cooling darkness wrap around your shoulders. Death sweeps his chill gaze over War after rising to his feet. You still hold the line firm, one arm shooting out to block Azriel from any further advancement. The light in your eyes still refuses to dim, but Az wraps a hand around your jaw delicately turning your face toward him. 
“You’ve made your point My Love,” the steady weight of his hand calms the rising heat in your blood. “It’s time to let him go.” Azriel didn’t particularly care if you ripped Eris apart and scattered him to the seas, but he knew the guilt would threaten to drag you into the abyss entirely. The light dims, and you drop your hand. Eris falls to the ground like a puppet dropped from strings, coughing blood like shiny red rubies onto the grass. You’re only looking at Az, the wash of reassurance running over your body as you finally process that he’s whole–that he’s standing. 
He’s alright. 
Death doesn’t deign to even look at War as shadows come around you like dark silk, and you’re back in his realm. He finally sags into your arms as he lets the facade drop, the real pain and exhaustion catching up to him. Az thinks you might call for a medic, but it feels like someone is holding his head underwater. The silk of the sheets feels distant against his skin as your hand strokes his face, and he finally lets his eyes slip closed. 
Azriel sleeps for four days. 
He wakes in your bedroom, your presence absent, but a pitcher of water remains on the bedside table. The armor he’d donned for battle had been stripped from him, replaced by a black chiton that fell loosely around his chest and hips. He chugs half the water in one go as his power reaches out frantically for you, his heart settles when he feels like your golden aura, and he rises to set off looking. 
He finds you beneath an ever-blooming willow tree in Asphodel fields, reading animatedly to a group of children, the golden reeds bellowing in the fresh spring air. They scatter as he leans against the trunk, giggling and laughing as they chase each other into the meadow. You’re overjoyed when you see your husband, throwing his arms around him and crashing his lips to yours. 
“Are you all right?” You mutter, gently pushing back the curtain of black hair that had fallen into his eyes. You’re so delicate with him, Azriel feels his heart skip two beats in his chest. 
“I’m content,” He hums lazily dropping his nose into your hairline, the lingering smell of lilies floods his senses and calms his nerves as it always does. He nudges his nose to your pulse point before biting gently at your fluttering heartbeat. 
“Azriel,” your voice reverberates into his chest, twinning heartbeats thudding together. “You’re still injured.” he continues his exploration of your neck, nipping his displeasure at your attempt to coddle him. Your body shudders as he finds a sensitive point, and you can feel his smug smile at your jugular. 
“Let me worship my Goddess in peace,” he rumbles relishing in the feel of your skin and the golden warmth of the fresh sun. He drops to his knees in the dirt, pressing devotion into the curve of your knee as your back thumps against the bark of the willow. He smirks as flowers bloom around you in time with your bashfulness, red poppies matching the pretty flush on your cheeks. 
“The souls,” You whip your head from side to side as he runs his hands along the sensitive skin of your thighs. He tilts his head in contemplation, hazel eyes reflecting the warmth like molten gold.
You feel his power ripple around you and a blanket of silence covers the area. Everything goes quiet, no birds chirping or animals running through the surrounding forest, even the rustling of the grass in the wind falls silent under his command. 
“No one will bother us now,” Azriel muses, continuing his travels, you squirm under his attention as he climbs higher and higher. 
“You’ve been asleep for four days,” You barely get the words out as he runs his thumb delicately over the apex of your thighs, enjoying the feel of you under his hands. “You should really eat something,” He growls his frustration as he bites a dark mark on the sensitive skin. 
“I’m trying too, if you would stop interrupting me.” His eyes turn almost black as he focuses his attention on your core again, brushing aside the scrap of silk covering you. Az lets out a guttural moan as your scent floods his senses.  He dives in then, feasting on you like he needs it more than air.
He’s wasted precious time with you since he’s been asleep, winter is caving to the sweet spring, but it seems the cold is listening to his prayers and holding on just a little longer. He licks straight to your center, tasting the honeyed sweetness as it floods his mouth. No matter how many centuries you spend together you are always still so responsive to him, you’re twitching and squirming against the tree just about to tumble over that edge when you yank his head away to pull him to his feet. His eyes are glazed over and your slick is dripping down his chin, you haul his mouth to yours tasting yourself on his tongue. All of a sudden his back is against the tree and you sink to your knees before him, tearing at belt holding up the fabric around his waist.
It seems that you’ve missed him as well. 
You look up at him through batting lashes, and Azriel strokes his hand along your jaw in adoration. You take him in your mouth and Az feels like molten iron has been poured down his spine, white-hot pleasure blinding all of his senses. Death’s knees begin to buckle under Life’s ministrations, the smug look in her eyes adding to the crumbling of his resolve. He has always laid everything he is at your feet, intimacy is no different. You stroke the rest of won’t fit in your mouth in time with the bobbing of your head and he feels weightless. 
Your tongue strokes along a vein on the side of his cock and he explodes almost embarrassingly quickly. It appears that four days had taken more of a toll on him than anticipated. He scoops you into his arms and in a blink you’re in your bedroom. The absurdly large bed stretches across the expanse of the room, the open windows letting in the sun. Azriel tosses you on the cool silk sheets as he stalks on top of you. His lips collide with yours again as he slowly draws one hand up your thigh and draws your underwear down, throwing it somewhere behind him. He thrusts into you in one long motion, and the searing pleasure sends a rumble of power that shakes the very foundation of the palace. 
“Calm Flower,” he whispers as he hits the spot inside of you that threatens to launch you into oblivion. “You’ll bring the walls down around us.” You let out a laugh that bubbles into a moan as he continues his languid drive into you over and over. Eventually, Azriel starts to ram into you as his restraint falters like a splitting thread, toying his fingers over the apex of your thighs with musician’s grace as he bites at your neck. He flips you over at lightning speed, your ass in the air as he drives your further into the mattress, your moans muffling into the pillows as your try to keep up with the relentless tempo. You finally tip over the edge right before Az spills himself inside you, your combined release makes him let out a roar so loud the birds flee from their nests in the trees.
He watches himself spill out of you, thrusting it back inside with two of his fingers.
You whine in overstimulation as he crooks his fingers inside of you, he lets out an amused huff as he gently strokes your shaking thighs. Azriel waves a hand, and you hear the water in the bathtub start to run. You stroke a gentle path through his night-dark hair as he leans into your touch. 
Yes, spring may be coming soon. The time with your husband dwindles to sparse moments in a dying winter fire, but as Az scoops you into his arms to take you to the bath you enjoy every single moment you have left.
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darkdevasofdestruction · 10 months
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Goddess of the Luo River ~ Qin Shi Huang x Reader
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She is lightsome as a startled Phoenix, And he, as graceful as a roaming dragon; Her lovely complexion outshines the autumn chrysanthemum, Whilst his radiance surpasses the springtime pine.
She is as nebulous as the moon concealed in light clouds, Gracefully gliding, as snow spun by a flowing wind. He is gazing at her from afar, She shines like the sun rising above the rosy mists of dawn; Observing her close by, She is as luminous as a lotus emerging from clear ripplets.
What lies behind the mask of the 'King Where It All Began' ...?
He... Was the most cursed prince in all of History.
It is held that in the year 260 BC, at the end of the battle of Chang Ping, Bai Qi, General of the Qin Army, had the captured soldiers of the Zhao army buried alive en masse. According to the records of the Grand Historian Shi Ji, the number of men killed was over four hundred and fifty thousand.
The following year, a member of the Qin royal family being kept as a hostage in Zhao, Zichu had an affair with a Zhao dancer. Their child, born in enemy territory, was the boy who would one day become Qin Shi Huang, the First Emperor of the Unified China. Ying Zheng.
However, in 257, Zichu returned to Qin alone, and his mother, Lady Zhao, abandoned him. At just two years old, he was cast away by his father, his mother... And his country. King Zhaoxiang of Qin invaded Zhao and laid siege to its capital, Handan.
Five years later, when the little prince was merely seven years of age, living on the outskirts of Handan, he would return to his small and secluded home, having to see the insults and hostile drawings on the walls made by the citizens, and endure the ostracising and death threats from the guards.
Ever after Qin's siege of Handan, Zhao continued to hold Ying Zheng hostage. They placed him under harsh supervision, keeping him alive but never allowing him to live, all while he bore the scorn of the Zhao people.
One day, however, he will experience the foreign feeling of joy for the first time in his life; As he went to buy some groceries, receiving the hatred of the people, a young lady around his age, wearing the simple clothes of a commoner, jumped in defense of him.
"This boy did nothing wrong! Why do you continue beating down on a child who had nothing to do with the massacre? You hate on him, though you should be hating on the evil general Bai Qi, and the King of Qi who committed such atrocities! The sins of the father shouldn't be passed down on an innocent child!" the prince's heart throbbed in shock and flatter, watching someone actually protecting him, let alone say such words about him! "Shut your mouth, wench, what do you know about war and politics?!" one of the men surrounding them spat at her, grabbing her by the neck of the dress. "This child is the reason your father and brother were buried alive by the enemy, along with hundreds of thousands of other good men who protected our country!" "It wasn't this child who gave the order. It wasn't this child who killed my family, nor anyone else's. Your hearts are filled with malice and scorn from loss and poverty, but that doesn't give anyone the right to use an innocent child as a scapegoat for the evil-doings of the higher ups. It's the fault of them and the constant civil wars happening throughout the country! This country will never heal unless we show compassion and understanding!" such beautiful words, such a progressive and revolutionary thinking from someone as young as her! The prince was highly impressed, but he couldn't find any strength in his body to move, he was rooted to the spot, watching the adults throw the girl to the ground, kicking her mercilessly. "If your father heard you, he'd have disciplined your rudeness until it all bled out! How dare you, a stupid, uneducated woman, speak back to a man? Your father would have beaten you until you learnt to bite down on that vile tongue of yours." she hadn't let out a single yelp, nor did she curse or complain until the punishing was over and the crowd dispersed.
"What do they know of my father, anyway? He was a kind man, he'd never hit me for speaking my mind." the girl scoffed, getting up on her feet and patting her clothes. "Are you alright, My Prince?"
But the prince felt like crying; He wanted desperately to throw his arms around the girl, thank her for standing up for him, for defending and protecting him, but at the same time, she was bleeding and bruised after her feat, and it was all because of him. "F-Forgive me... Forgive me... Because of me, you... You got hurt... I'm so sorry..." he wanted to cry... He wanted to cry so badly... "Aiya, don't say that. It wasn't you who hurt me, you are innocent in all this mess. It is the evilness that hurt me, along with these wars and crimes that keep happening." she sighed softly. "If only there was one man who could unite the country and stop the civil wars, the people would be living in peace and harmony, and the seed of hatred would rot." she shook her head dismissively, before smiling at the boy. "My Prince, I can see you are desperately trying to bite down your tears - You needn't, not in front of me. If you wish me to, I can be your shoulder to cry on, or a reason to smile. You are a kind child, you don't deserve everything that's happening to you." the girl held his hand, squeezing it comfortingly. "Let me show you a special place."
Thus, the girl dragged the little Prince to some part of the outskirts where he's never been before; An abandoned garden that though unattended to, still retained its beauty and grace, with green plants and colourful flowers as he's never seen before. Truly, this must be the prettiest part of all Zhao, the boy thought.
From a hidden spot inside a thick bush, Y/N dragged a chest filled with the most expensive silk clothes and beautiful accessories - And even a pipa lute and make-up! "I've always loved dancing, you see. This place is my special place. Mum showed it to me, and grandma showed it to mum. Since when this chest has been here, or when did the garden get abandoned, I do not know, but I am happy regardless." she giggled softly, discarding the ratty outer layer of her clothes and putting on a lovely pink dress. "My dream has been, since I've seen mum dance for the first time, to become a dancer at the high court. I love the pretty dresses and all the accessories, and the music also. Alas..." she smiled sadly, trailing her fingertips softly across the melodious strings of the pipa. "Men with wealth and status care little that a dancer is not a courtesan, and there is no one to protect us from their lecherous hands."
Ying Zheng could only sit down and watch the girl before him transform into the most graceful fairy, and with elegant moves, her body flowed like the river through a flower meadow, and the orchid fragrance in the Spring wind. He was completely mesmerised by the beauty in front of him. "My grandma danced for grandpa only, and my mum for my dad. I, too, hope to one day marry the love of my life, and bewitch him with my dancing." her smile was so carefree and filled with glee that the prince found himself completely enchanted. "But... I like to dream big. I may be just a simple, common girl, with no family, no money and no status... In spite of this... I do hope that somehow, I would be able to dance in front of people and make them happy, and smile, with my dancing." she glided around the flowers like a peony nymph, her pink skirts flying around her like the rich petals of said flower. "Until then, I suppose I should just continue perfecting my choreographies." "Y-You dance beautifully." the prince managed to stutter out, still under the afterglow of the dance, and the stunning pose she ended in. "If it matters, you made me feel very happy." "Hao!" she giggled sweetly. "You have a gorgeous smile. I hope to see you smiling so genuinely all the time when we're together."
The prince continued to blush deeply, though his heart was throbbing with joy as never before. A single day, however, only has so many hours, and with the afternoon gone, the Sun was setting and the starry skies were reflected in his gorgeous eyes.
"W-Would it be too rude and daring t-to ask you to please be my friend?" the boy bowed down humbly at her, only to hear a sweet giggle. "Y/N. Call me Y/N. And I will call you by your given name - Zheng." she quickly took the jade pendant from her sash and tied it to his own. "There, a token of my care and friendship for you. Now that we call each other by our given name, we are soul bound." "B-But... I-I don't have anything to give you..." the boy's lips trembled with emotion. "Hmm... Let me think..." her sweet smile turned mischievous, as she placed a kiss on his cheek. "Remember what I said about the wars? That only the King of all Kings can unite our country and bring peace?" he nodded silently. "When you become Emperor, don't forget about me. That's the only thing I wish from you. To be friends forever, no matter what the course of time may bring for us. How's that sound?" The little prince looked up at her, his starry eyes sparkling with joy and love, and a soft blush painting his porcelain cheeks. He grinned widely, like a happy child, and he repeated the single word that she adopted from her - A word that will become his most favourite word. "Hao!"
Many days passed, and the friendship between Zheng and Y/N only grew stronger, and so did their crush on one another. Y/N became even more protective over the boy, thus receiving even more scorn and disciplining - The adults could afford disciplining an orphan girl with no status, but they couldn't beat the Prince. Even his deep sorrow dissipated when he saw her dance.
That is, until Y/N walked him home one afternoon, and there, waiting for him, was a woman, blowing into a spinning windwheel. "Are you Ying Zheng?" the stern-looking woman asked. "Who asks?" Y/N frowned, stepping protectively in front of him, glaring at her viciously - But the boy was mellow and didn't want to upset anyone, nor incur another's wrath, and he simply bowed and affirmed that it was him, the prince. "I didn't think you'd be so young. Tsk." she frowned, rolling her eyes. "Who are you and what do you want with the Prince?" Y/N's loud and firm voice made the woman's eyebrow rise. "I'm Chun-Yan, his new live-in caretaker and bodyguard. Which means..." she jumped off the stone lamp and though she could tower over the prince, as the girl was right there, shielding him, she still felt intimidating. "I can roll you, fold you, or do whatever the hell I want with you." "Yes, ma'am, it's a pleasure to meet you." the prince bowed deeply, only for the girl to hiss at the woman and close her fan, bonking her in the head. "Who do you think you are, threatening a child like this? I'll kill you if you even look at him the wrong way." Chun-Yan was rather amused by the braveness of this peasant girl, and she scoffed, straightening up and walking towards the humble home of the prince. "Well, whatever. First things first, show me around this place."
As she opened the doors, she noticed the dilapidated state of complete disrepair that the small home of the hostage prince was; A complete dump filled with broken windows and walls, and furniture, mold growing everywhere and everything was shit.
"God, what a dump this is! Though, I guess it suits a reject from the Qin royal family." the nasty comment made Y/N yell at her again. "Fuck off, will you?!" the woman stared in shock - A little girl cursed like a sailor man! "You are just as evil as all the others around! We don't need you here! Go away! You're only going to hurt him, you evil, nasty woman!" "D-Don't worry, Y/N! It's really okay!" Yin Zheng forced a wide smile on his face. "Would you like something to drink? If water is alright, I'll go fetch some." he bowed again. "... Are you really seven?" she muttered in disbelief before slumping down on the table. "I DON'T LIKE YOU!" she yelled, pointing a finger at him. "A kid your age oughta be crying or throwing a fit at the drop of a hat, but you've just been grinning ear to ear this whole time. It's givin' me the creeps." Y/N didn't even have the time to yell at the woman again, for the prince started dancing around like a monkey. "Are you makin' fun of me?!" "WILL YOU JUST LEAVE HIM ALONE ALREADY?!" Y/N's anger was through the roof. "Who do you think you are, treating him like this?! I bet you lost someone to the burying, didn't you? Well, that's you and EVERYONE ELSE IN THIS CITY! INCLUDING ME!" she glared up at Chun-Yan, who looked flabbergast at the girl. "I lost my dad and brother! My mum killed herself from grief! I've been all alone to survive and fend for myself since I was barely four years old - But I don't go around blaming a child for the evil-doings of those warmongers! Why is it so hard for adults to understand that Ying Zheng did nothing wrong?! That you should be blaming THEM, not a child who was barely a BABY when it happened!" the woman was stunned. "You are a woman! Women are supposed to be gentle and caring towards children! You are a disgrace to all of girl-kind!"
The woman remained silent for a few seconds, staring down at the gleaming eyes of the girl who started crying from the deep rage she felt - And suddenly, Chun-Yan felt guilt and remorse. The girl was right, she wasn't any different than everyone in Handan, or Zhao itself. To think a child would have more wisdom than a rage-blinded adult...
"Let's clean this place already. You can't expect me to sleep in some dingy hut like this." Chun-Yan scoffed, taking the broom and beginning to clean this place properly - Though no amount of work could properly make this run-down home into a beautiful and safe haven.
Regardless, Ying Zheng and Y/N helped in the cleaning up, and though the boy felt incredibly on edge around a stranger, Y/N and Chun-Yan were constantly yelling at each other. The place was... Pretty loud and tense - Yet thus began their unusual pseudo-familial life.
Chun-Yan took the two children for grocery shopping again, only to see the true horrors of the prince's daily life, as one of the merchants threw the food on the ground, urging the prince to eat the sand-filled meat - At the same time, Y/N quickly jumped to shield the boy, as the people around started glaring at him, accusing him of killing their children or relatives. They all wanted to kill him, while he could only force a smile and bow at them humbly.
Anger. Curse. Hate. Curse. Kill. Curse. Evil. Curse. Grudge. Curse. Sad. Curse.
When they returned home, Chun-Yan stopped the lone boy from going to rest, and revealed the many injuries on his body. Apparently, whenever he saw someone getting injured, his own body started getting scars in the same place, and feel the pain of said person. Y/N knew, and that's why she tried her best to protect him, but it wasn't always working. It was all because of the constant hatred from the people of Zhao that he developed such an accursed condition.
It was just a little pain, he'd say. The wounds will heal, eventually... Though his body said another thing, and he almost fainted. Ying Zheng's smile had been instinctively learned by him at the mere age of seven, as a way to allay, even only slightly, the hatred constantly searing his body. "Some day, maybe they'll forgive me... Won't day?" a most pitiful armor.
"Forgive you...? Who do you think you're kidding here?! Huh?! How the hell can you just keep grinning like an idiot?! Why don't you get angry?! Why don't you hate them?!" Chun-Yan started crying - She was now fully understanding Y/N's angry tears and the frustration she felt at the way Zhao was treating an innocent child. "What happened back then... At Chang Ping... HAS GOT NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU! IT ISN'T RIGHT THAT YOU'RE GETTING HURT! SO STOP FORCING YOURSELF TO HOLD BACK! IF YOU WANNA CRY, THEN CRY! IF YOU'RE FEELING MAD, THEN LET IT OUT! STOP KILLING YOURSELF FROM THE INSIDE AND LYING TO YOURSELF ABOUT HOW YOU FEEL!" she yelled at him, falling on the ground weakly, watching the still forced smile on his face. "G-Get angry...? Cry...? I-I could never do that... B-Because I'm... I'm the child of a nation that kills people. I-I'm a cursed child... Th-That's why, I..." for the first time in his life, Ying Zheng felt the embrace of a mother. "It doesn't matter how awful your parents are - Their kid doesn't deserve to be punished! You haven't done anything wrong, nothing at all..." tears were drenching her face, all the guilt and regret overwhelming her. "Y/N was right... Y/N cares so much for you, she only wants the best for you." she found herself speaking in a milder voice. "You're a kind person, who understands people's pain. Your wounds are proof of that, not some punishment or curse." the boy's body was trembling violently. "Ying Zheng. You can live however you want to live."
For the first time in his life, Ying Zheng allowed himself to wail out all of his distress, all the pain, the agony and suffering he's been feeling this entire time, and his mother figure encouraged him. "Why me?! I haven't done anything! Nothing at all! I hate them! I hate everyone! DAMN IT, DAMN IT, DAMN IT ALL!!!!!!"
It was the first night he slept peacefully, and when he woke up, the woman offered him a pretty scarf to cover his eyes. If he can't see the pain of others, then maybe he won't be feeling it? It was worth a try. She made it herself, after all. When her child was still alive, this used to be a piece of cake for her to do.
The boy, with the most beautiful smile in the world, tied the scarf over his eyes. "HAO!" he joyfully exclaimed. "Thanks, Chun-Yan! I'll take good care of it!" "Hao? I like that word too!" the woman grinned at him. He truly was adorable.
Since then, Y/N and Chun-Yan became the only persons Ying Zheng could be around and not feel any pain. Every day he spent with them, Ying Zheng was able to smile and have fun from the bottom of his heart. They would clean up the graffiti and even learn martial arts - Sometimes, they'd even prank the people who used to bully him; And his smile became more and more cheerful. Ying Zheng was truly happy.
However... King Zhaoxiang of Qin, and soon after, his son, King Xiaowen, passed away - And so, in 250 BC, the man who abandoned Ying Zheng, Zichu, ascended to the throne, and thus... Ying Zheng unexpectedly became the crown prince, the first in line to the throne, and was permitted to return to Qin.
"Ha! To think that some silly words I said would actually come true. I must be a Seer or something." Y/N grinned at the crying boy. "Crown Prince Ying Zheng. That sounds very good! Hao! I like that!" "Won't you come with me?! Please?! Please?! Don't leave me alone, I need you! We are friends, aren't we?!" the boy was sobbing, holding tightly onto the girl. "Forgive me, I cannot." she sighed, embracing him. "Not only am I a Zhao citizen, but... I am also a peasant. I would never be allowed anywhere near the Crown Prince." she kissed his cheek, patting his hair. "But when you get older and ascend to the throne - If you still remember me, and want to see me again, then you can always send for me. I will wait for you a thousand lifetimes, if needed. Just to see you again. The beautiful boy with the starry skies in his eyes."
Before he left, Y/N stole a quick peck on his lips, and waved him goodbye; Whilst Chun-Yan was laughing copiously, she had to drag the stunned boy away, his face burning fiercely from a blush. "I'll make you my Empress, Y/N! Wait for me! I'll keep my promise!" they truly were adorable, the woman thought, as the carriage left for Qin.
Thus, however, not only Y/N, but Ying Zheng would remain alone for so long, as Y/N had no one else in Zhao, and with the scorned people of Zhao no longer holding the prince as a hostage, they sent mercenaries to kill him. As a last motherly act of love, Chun-Yan used her martial arts to battle them all, though she would be fatally injured. "YOU STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM MY KID!" she yelled, killing the last one.
As she lay dying in his arms, she told him the truth - That Y/N was right about her all along. She was a scorned, grieving parent, with her child, similar in age to the prince, having been buried alive. Her beloved Chun-Ou. She could do nothing to save him, for she dug in the dirt with her nails desperately, but couldn't even find him to give him a proper send-off. She wanted too see the prince, to scold him for being a useless, evil brat... She wanted to vent her anger and resentment... But she couldn't.
If a kid like Ying Zheng could become the King - Someone who could understand people's pain... Perhaps someone like him could change this fucked-up world a little, the very same way he changed her. "Become the greatest king of them all." it was the same promise that Y/N also bestowed upon him.
Before she died though, she didn't see Ying Zheng, but Chun-Ou. "I didn't know you were there, Chun-Ou. Let mama get a good look at your face." "Mama..." the prince held her dearly in his arms, placing her hand over his face, and he smiled at her, watching how vitality swiftly dissipated from her eyes. "Hao." she lay lifeless in his arms as he wept for her.
Afterward, Ying Zheng arrived safely at Xianyang, the capital of Qin, and on July 6th 247 BC, following the death of Zichu, Ying Zheng became the King of Qin, at the mere age of twelve.
"Let's walk my--..." Ying Zheng smiled, tying the scarf around his eyes. "No. Let's walk the Path of an Emperor. Together. Y/N. Chun-Yan." and true to his words, at 37 years of age, Ying Zheng became Qin Shi Huang, The First Emperor in History to unite all of China.
On the day Ying Zheng was crowned as the King of Qin, he also began being pestered by his advisors and elders to marry soon and produce an heir; After all, every King must have a Queen and concubines to perpetuate the royal lineage. Of course, the Prince didn't care for such things, nor did he want to think about anyone else that wasn't Y/N - But they were still so young! Life was fully ahead of them! On the other hand, it could be a great pretext to bring Y/N to the court and start lavishing her with all the luxuries that the palace has to offer.
Though the King of Qin had room for surprise, along with all the people at the royal meeting, as the large doors of the palace were pushed open, and a beautiful young lady resembling a flower fairy, dressed in rich silks, pink like the petals of a peony stepped on the golden rug that led towards the throne. She had a long spear in her grasp. As she started singing, the King ripped the scarf off his face, and those starred eyes gleamed with glee, his smile wide like never before. They truly must be soulmates, if Y/N could do exactly the same thing that he himself intended to do!
Two loving souls, so cruelly parted In madness and grief, a dark path started Calamity was drawn, rituals subverted But by her lovely dance, was sadness averted.
Ying Zheng didn't think it humanly possible, for a human to glide even more gracefully than he first saw her dancing, a few years prior.
The Phoenix returned to a home without luster; The cobwebs overgrown, the grave-shrouds a-fluster. But one bond upon her, This world could not muster.
"Thus does the tale of the Auspicious Phoenix end - Yet today, a new melody I have to append." the King was truly mesmerised by her lovely voice, and the way she lit the spear on fire and twirled it around so masterfully, kicking it and rotating with it, throwing it in the air, creating the image of a dancing Phoenix. "Hao! Sing me a happy story, Y/N!" he grinned, leaning forward in his throne.
From the world she seems apart But there is one who knows her heart With graceful swaying and a flaming spear To still the raging skies and the shattered hearts
Y/N's smile was so enchanting that it bewitched the King - Her dancing was as she hoped, a means to grow the seed of joy into people's hearts, replacing the darkening hatred.
The Phoenix once returned, And at once, she was spurned. She turned, and left alone...
Y/N, in a swift move, extinguished the flames from the spear, and stepped up the stairs leading to the throne. "Though now, she might be found to whom she is bound - Her love."
Ying Zheng's face was split by a wide, cheerful grin, and in an unexpected move, he threw his arms around the girl, pulling her into his lap and kissing her cheek. "Hao! My Phoenix returned home!" "Just in time to see her beloved dragon soaring the skies." she replied tenderly, only multiplying the excitement of his heart. "The only dance I love above all is that of the Phoenix and the Dragon amongst Heavens." he declared boldly. "Y-Your Majesty, who is this woman?! And how did she even manage to get inside the palace? With a weapon, no less!" having escaped the charm of the beautiful maiden, the elders started murmuring amongst each other. "She is the Empress, of course!" Ying Zheng laughed merrily, loving the unrest amongst his advisors, telling him he couldn't just marry anyone. "I am the King! I can do whatever I want!" and true to his words, Y/N had a most beautiful coronation ceremony, and her red and gold robes truly made her look like the Phoenix that she was.
Not only the Kingdom of Qin, but the whole Empire of China was going to prosper greatly under the rule of Emperor Qin Shi Huang and his Empress, Y/N. She was there to help him rule, with equal power as his own, and a fantastic wisdom and benevolence like no other. She was there to guide him as he walked the path of killing the demon Chi You. They lived a good life, along with all the people of China.
The two would love each other and live in perfect harmony until their eventual death due to mercury poisoning, at an age before even reaching half a century.
In the afterlife, just like in reality, Qin Shi Huang would have to fight to protect his people, as he was chosen as a human representative fighter in this mess the Gods created, Doomsday, the wish to eradicate mankind. He already killed a demon, and now, he was ready to kill a God.
He couldn't wait for too long in his own room, and with how directionally challenged he was, he walked through walls until he found the Gods' private balcony where Ares and Hermes were, and he flipped the God of War out of his seat, getting comfortable on the cushy seat, even causing the Messenger God to pour him honey mead.
"You know I can't walk fast in these clothes, you little menace." a feminine voice, very much amused, took the attention of the two Gods. "Oh, that's a lovely view of the arena!" the regal looking woman shamelessly sat on his lap, her arms around his neck as he offered her his drink. "This is really good! Can we get more?" bowing, the butler looking God poured some more.
The doors were slammed open again, and the little Valkyrie, Goll, yelled at them, followed by the elder one, Brunhilde. "Goodness! Even after I'd expressly told you NOT to leave your room - And what's more, you've left the corridors FULL of holes!" the elder one was more amused than scolding. "Mou mantai!" the two laughed, free of any care. "The road is where I lead!" he grinned, holding onto Y/N's waist, clingy like a child. "Come on, we have to go." Hilde spoke. "I refuse! We've taken a liking to this place! And besides, we definitely won't grow bored here." the man exclaimed. "In case you weren't aware - YOU will be fighting in round Seven." Hermes and Ares gasped in shock, as the Emperor, holding his love in his arms, jumped on the backseat of the couch.
"HAO!" he grinned confidently. "Finally! I'd grown tired of waiting!" "Now, let's head to the entrance gate, shall we?" Hilde sweatdropped at the unhinged behaviour of the bratty Emperor. "The dragon soars the path of the Emperor! The road is where Qin Shi Huang leads!" Y/N declared boldly, unfolding her fan dramatically.
From underneath the Gods balcony, all of China's Emperors after Qin Shi Huang unraveled a large red and gold rug, making way for the very first Emperor to lead the way to victory - Covering all the minor Gods from the stands. None mattered, except for Qin Shi Huang.
"Hao! That's how the Emperor has to be treated!" Y/N hopped from his arms, and off the balcony, waltzing ahead and leading the way forward - From her sleeves, butterflies would flutter, and where she waved her fan, red flower petals burning like cinders would breeze in a majestic dance, matching her own enchanting one.
She is lightsome as a startled Phoenix, And he, as graceful as a roaming dragon; Her lovely complexion outshines the autumn chrysanthemum, Whilst his radiance surpasses the springtime pine.
She is as nebulous as the moon concealed in light clouds, Gracefully gliding, as snow spun by a flowing wind. He is gazing at her from afar, She shines like the sun rising above the rosy mists of dawn; Observing her close by, She is as luminous as a lotus emerging from clear ripplets.
She sang the song that Ying Zheng loved the most, resembling the Goddess of the Luo River - The Beauty of China, Luo Shen. Though the Emperor hated that she ended up so heart broken over her husband's death, going so far as to drown herself in the river - He couldn't help but admire the pure love between her and her husband, mutually intertwined, just as he and Y/N were; Truly, all his life, he admired everything about her, and strived to become a man worthy of her lover. He wanted to be the man she could depend on, the man who could prove for her.
And thus, he became the Emperor.
As the song ended, Qin took out the bamboo flute and, stepping into the ring and playing the tune that harmonised perfectly with his Empress' graceful moves. Her dress, a deep shade of red like fire, flew around her like the Auspicious Phoenix that she was, and with her golden Dragon, they danced the Celestial melody of Heavens.
Heimdall, as well as all the rest watching, were mesmerised at the elegance displayed in their bonding, true love like no other radiating strongly from their smiles; He couldn't even begin the introductions as he watched the Emperor pick his lady in his arms, two fates intertwined, dancing coiled around each other eternally - And ending with a kiss. Their fairy-tale like love made all those watching deeply envious.
As the two lovers kept gazing into each other's eyes, the God announced the Emperor's great deeds, before calling out his title as the humans all chanted his name; the Gods boo'ed, angry that he was so arrogant, even going as far as too show off his love-life like that. As Y/N kissed him shamelessly, in front of the whole Valhalla, a young lady, Alvitr, had rageful tears in her eyes for being left forgotten at the Mankind gate.
"Mou mantai! I'm an Emperor, after all." he waved dismissively, before picking her up carefully in his arms. "Come a little closer." she was blushing so bad. "No need to be so rough, my boyish young lady." he chuckled lightly. "Don't worry, little lady. Zheng is going to take good care of you." Y/N patted her hair, watching her completely fall in love with the handsome man, and in one burst of lightning, the Volundr was formed. "Hao! This fits me nicely!" he grinned, showing off his Almighty Spaulders. "As handsome as always, my darling." she kissed his cheek again, though she felt a chill shiver down her spine as the God of the Underworld, Hades, walked forward.
Not only was he ready to avenge his brother, but he was also feeling envious at the way Y/N so openly loved and pampered her husband, the same way he wished his beloved Persephone would.
Before this battle of King vs Emperor could begin, Y/N gladed towards the stands where the Emperors were standing - Right where Chun-Yan and Chun-Ou were, and she got helped up in the stands. An Empress shouldn't have to find her way around the maze-like corridors - The First Empress of China had every right to walk the shortest and easiest road to where she wished to.
As the fight began, Hades thrust forward a single strike, loaded with tremendous power - A single thrust meant to kill. He continues to attack with one heavy-class jab after another, but the Emperor never once got hit; And even when he used one of his strongest attacks, named after his wife, Qin Shi Huang only had his body nicked.
The next straight thrust, the Emperor deflected, easily catching the handle of the bident before throwing back the attack - His own power added to that of Hades, sending him sailing backwards painfully hard - It was Qin Shi Huang's Chi You - Armor form: Sword, Armor, Spear, Crossbow, Halbert - Heavenly Hand of Defense.
As they say, the best offense is a good defense. The reverse is also valid. "Hades, King of the Netherworld... Was it? Let me tell you a thing." as the dust evaporated, the God's form was slumped to the ground, a large crater in the wall where he hit it. "There can only be one Emperor in the world, and that man is I!" he confidently declared.
He didn't fight for six whole days against the Demon God Chi You for nothing. He didn't raise above all the other so-called King for nothing. He didn't become the first unifier of China, the first Emperor, the King where it all began - For nothing!
Ying Zheng - Qin Shi Huang - Was the only man worthy of being called The Emperor!
Hades managed to stand up. He was bleeding from his head and his torso was injured. "Qin Shi Huang, was it? Tell me one thing - What in your eyes makes a King?" "A king?" he grinned. "One who never doubts! Never yields! Never relies! And always stands as the leader of his people! That is what makes a King!" Hades was awestruck by the answer, and even started laughing merrily. Nobody alive ever heard the Lord of the Underworld laugh so boomingly. Ying Zheng joined in the laughing. "You remind me of someone I know... All too well. He was more noble than any other God, more steadfast than any other - And the God most worthy of the title of King. My younger brother, Poseidon, King of the Seas." he extended his arm forward, showing off the weapon. "And I swear by his name, as his elder brother, I shan't give in to a mere King of Men!"
Thus, with a weird stance, Hades unleashed an attack, the proper way of fighting with a spear; With all his might, he delivered a crushing downward swing. The Emperor shielded himself with his arms. "I AM THE KING OF THE UNDERWORLD - HADES! FALL AND BE CRUSHED!"
The King of Men was slammed face-down, flat onto the ground. "ZHENG!" Y/N yelled his name, watching his spit a bunch of blood, struggling to stand up. "Ahh, it's sticky, all soaked with blood. Buhao." he groaned, hanging his head. "Mou mantai..." he sighed, a little disappointed as he took off his cherished scarf. All Emperors bowed down in his honour, gazing his handsome face for the first time. "Now then - Shall we continue, King of the Netherworld?" he grinned confidently. despite the blood painting his face. "So you can take one of my attacks and still smile. I would expect nothing less from a King!" Hades grinned, launching into a ferocious flurry with his rigid spear.
Qin Shi Huang has no choice but to roll with the thrusts; He was waiting for an opportunity to use his special technique. As Hades used the Smasher of Earth down on his head, the Emperor had to shield himself again; But this time, he didn't fall - Using his breath to weaken the attack, he grabbed onto the blade of the bident, and slammed the wielder into the ground, breaking it.
But just as before, any wound that Ying Zheng sees, he receives also - And though he managed to injured Hades, he also felt intense pain. Even in a direct combat, Qin used his breath onto Hades' chest, and with his claw-like fingers, he used the Mount Tai, Dragon Claw technique, delivering an intense strike, leaving an awful mark onto his abdomen.
Ying Zheng's starry eyes weren't just beautiful - They could actually see the stars of living beings. The flow of Qi. Qin could see the cruxes as stars. The double edged gift that served him as both a blessing and a curse. "Ahh, this is why I hate fighting with my eyes." Qin grinned, baring through the blazing pain in his abdomen. "Aw man, that really hurts."
"Don't make fun of me... Do you call yourself the Greatest King?" Hades chuckled light-heartedly. "King of the Underworld, you are strong - But I promised two special people that I would become the Greatest King - So I can't lose to anyone!" to get the most out of his fantastic martial arts, Qin Shi Huang was given a Divine Weapon specialising in defence - Alvitr; The secret ability behind her name is - Army Guardian! "You are strong, King of Humans. A promise of never losing, right?" Hades clenched his fist around his own blood. "I also have something I want to protect. My oath."
Thus, Hades advanced again, spinning his bident like a windmill, destroying the air bullets coming his way - Qin could barely defend himself against the attacks coming his way, though even when he struck, the two were equal in power, and Hades' forearm was mauled. "Even though you're human, you made it this far, huh? I'm going to kill you... But first, I wanted to say that you were magnificent." Hades declared boldly. "Hao!" Zheng grinned at his opponent.
From the stands, every human was cheering for the Emperor. Y/N especially was the loudest, along with Chun-Yan and her little boy, Chun-Ou.
Once again, Hades did something remarkably unusual - Not only did he begin to whistle the tune of his dear younger brother, Poseidon, before self-inflicting a large gash on his chest and splattering not only himself, but his weapon in a shower of crimson life essence. Drenched in blood, Hades rushes Qin, changing mid hit his thrust into a downward swing - He managed to find a way to counter his disruption of Qi. "You pose no threat to me."
Hades' blood wasn't SIMPLY blood. "Assemble!" the King of the Underworld ordered his weapon to transform into a mighty strength to be reckoned with; Any Divine Weapon that his blood, the Pluto Ichor, spills upon harbors the God's life force and becomes even more powerful... But the longer he keeps it up, the higher the risk of death. "King of Men, this is my trump card." he got in a battle stance with his new weapon, the Four-Blooded Spear of Destiny - Ichor: Desmos. "Tear at his flesh - Desmos!" this almighty thrust managed to break through the powerful armor of the Emperor. "I cannot lose. As their elder brother, I shan't be defeated!"
The Valkyrie Alvitr made herself seen to her human, worrying over him - Not only half of his hand, but his shoulder also were heavily destroyed. "Mou mantai. Compared to the pain of others, my own pain is scarcely anything to bear." he declared selflessly, like the fantastic leader that he is. "Alvitr... If we don't do something, we stand no chance at winning. I think we should bet everything on this next strike." he spoke, more seriously, only to annoying the young Valkyrie. "THAT WAS PATHETIC!" she yelled at him, as a scold. "SAY WHAT YOU WANT LOUD AND CLEAR, LIKE AN EMPEROR! YOU SHOWED OFF WITH YOUR EMPRESS LIKE THAT - AND NOW YOU WANT TO LOOK UNCOOL AND DIE IN FRONT OF HER?! IN FRONT OF EVERYONE BELIEVING IN YOU?!" she huffed like a brat. "How haughty of you, my boyish young lady." he smiled, looking up at the stands where his most cherished people were cheering on him. "I WANT TO WIN NO MATTER WHAT!" he yelled, loud and clear, as he should have. "Haha, I know! Really... You Kings are so stubborn!" she giggled, reinforcing their bond even further. "Let me give you all the power I've got!" thus, the Almighty Spaulders were recast into the Shi Huang Goujian Sword. The best defense truly is a remarkable offense.
"I am EMPEROR! King among Kings! And a King only takes pride in protecting his people!" Ying Zheng's starry eyes shone brightly with hope and power, whilst his dazzling smile remained as confident as ever before. "Excellent, O, lofty King - Now let us tear at his very heart, Desmos!" he, who bore the pride of the Gods and laid down his own life; The King of the Netherworld -- And he, who knew the pain of others, and fought for the sake of his people, the King Where It All Began.
Only a King can understand the mind of a King. And these two Kings could both tell that the end of the match was nigh.
Hades went forward, using Desmos: Eos once again, and Ying Zheng retaliated with Chi You: Sword Form; Shi Huang Yan cut. He was driven back, his already damaged left arm ripping clean off from the shoulder and flying across the arena. "ZHENG!" though the Emperor could hear his wife's desperate voice, calling out to him - He simply laughed merrily, seeing Alvitr's worried expression, looking down at him.
"It's beautiful...! What a beautiful star I see!" surprising everyone, the Emperor managed to use his sword to stand up once again. "A king never doubts. A King never yields. A King never relies." even with his arms ripped off like that, and the awful injuries sustained, Ying Zheng kept standing tall and ready to fight. "And a King never surrenders!" he was standing up through sheer willpower. "I can't let my wife see her husband dying, you know? I promised to only ever make her happy - So I can't cause her tears of distress now!"
He could hear them - The voices of the people. He's been fighting all this time to keep his promise to Y/N and Chun-Yan; To bring the people not hatred, but happiness. Everyone was cheering for him. The Greatest King of All Kings - Qin Shi Huang.
"Look, I know you don't wanna give up, but what are you gonna do exactly?" Alvitr asked, a little confused but ready to fight to the bitter end by the side of this worthy man. "I'm going to use Heavenly Hand of Defense once more." he spoke weakly, watching her distress and worry. "Trust me - I am THE Emperor!" Alvitr smiled, filled with hope and confidence thanks to this man. "You're just... Haha! No need to ask!" she, too, got in a fighting stance next to him, supporting him from within his soul. "HAO!" the Emperor exclaimed, thrusting the tip of his sword forward, to mit that of Hades' spear. "I consider myself proud to have been able to fight you." both the Gods and Mankind, and every eye upon the arena could sense that this very next clash would be the final one of Round Seven.
And the first to make a move was the King of the Netherworld, with a fearsome thrust from Desmos, loaded with all the Ichor that Hades could give; Against this gully-powered attack from the King of the Netherworld which seemed as though it could kill with a simple graze, the King of Men, without hesitation, caught it. Chi You Armor Form: Heavenly Hand of Defense.
Everyone had braced themselves for the end, save for the King Where It All Began... Who managed to use Tortoise Ripple to hit Desmos' Qi Star. It got weaker. Desmos was alive, not a lifeless weapon, and Hades hadn't taken that into consideration - He brought his spear to life, his most powerful advantage, but also, his most fatal disadvantage.
Ying Zheng had never forgotten, not even for an instant, that his own life began from the end - When the woman he loved most, his wife, along with his cherished mother-figure, Chun-Yan, showed him... That a King is one who arises from the end, and brings about the Beginning.
Desmos was shattering in his fighter's grasp, and the Human representative managed to impale his sword through the God's torso. "Magnificent!" Hades praised. "Nothing less...!" though he tried to use the broken handle of his weapon to kill Qin Shi Huang, he failed, for the Emperor sliced him open. "... from a King." Hades was unable to make good on his vow. He failed as an elder brother, but the Emperor managed to keep his oath to all the people that relied on him. "Forgive me."
As Hades lay dead on the ground, Heimdall announced Emperor Qin Shi Huang as the winner of the Seventh Round of Ragnarok, and with it, Mankind was in the lead, 4 to 3. "I am grateful that I could speak with you, King of the Netherworld." the Emperor clenched his fist to his chest, in honour of the admirable and honorable fight between two Kings. "Pengyou." through this battle to the death, the two Kings became friends.
Gods and Humans alike were showing their respects to the King of the Netherworld as he was shattering into glowing shard of green soul and ascending into the skies. In under 13 minutes, the King of all Kings defeated a God.
Just as before, the Emperors watching the match helped the Phoenix Empress descend into the ring so she could run to her husband, supporting him and the little Valkyrie lady up. "You were fantastic, you two. Now you may rest. I will take you to the infirmary at once." both of them, like a happy family, smiled at each other. "Don't push yourself too hard. You look even more banged up than me." Alvitr joked. "Mou mantai!" he chuckled at her reassuringly. "Mou mantai? You sure don't look it, silly man. Let me support you two." Y/N giggled, getting in between them two and holding onto them with all her force. "Honestly, it's a miracle you're even alive right now." Alvitr scolded him lightly. "That isn't true, Alvitr. Did I not say it before? Trust me!" his reassuring grin made the girl emotional. "You really are stupid." the Valkyrie's smile trembled. "H-Hey, can't you keep standing up?" Y/N released Alvitr from her grasp, supporting the Emperor as he lost consciousness. "Alvitr, if you have any strength in you, please help me hold him!"
The Valkyrie yelled for the paramedics to rush already - He needed urgent, intensive care. The nurses quickly brought the table and put the Emperor, rolling him quickly towards the Intensive Care unit where he will be taken until his condition is stabilised.
Ying Zheng and Alvitr also were kept in capsules to better their vital functions, and in between them, sat Y/N, smiling softly at the two. The Valkyrie was already a divine being, she was going to be alright... But Ying Zheng is still a human and was in a particularly critical condition - Whether he survives this or not, depends on his own strength to live.
"Ying Zheng and Alvitr. The Emperor of Heavens and his protector White Tiger." the Empress spoke gently, each hand laying on one of the glass capsules. "Alvitr, thank you for protecting my beloved Zheng. I will forever be indebted to you. My sweet child. Alvitr." Beautiful and divine, strong and courageous." her voice trembled softly. "My boyish young lady." her gaze turned to her Emperor. "Qin Shi Huang. The Emperor of China. The King Where It All Began. The First Unifier of China. The Golden Dragon of China. The Eye of Heaven." a few tears escaped softly down her cheeks. "Ying Zheng, my beloved husband, the beautiful boy with the starry skies in his eyes. The love of my life." her tender tears turned into heartbroken sobs. "I am so proud of you. So, so proud. You have always been a true leader for our people, and you were always such a wonderful husband, a partner, a friend. My confidant. My heart. My soul. My everything." though Goll and Brunhilde left, the Emperors whose paths were pathed by Qin Shi Huang were all standing outside the room, watching with heavy hearts, the shattered cry of the Vermillion Bird. "If the tears of the Phoenix could truly heal any wound, I would drown you in my cries and save you. If I could give my life to save you, I would transfer all of your wounds to mine own shell of a body, rip my flesh apart with mine own teeth and claws, and give you all of my blood, just to see you alive once more. My most precious sweetheart." the people watching all began to shed tears. "Just like the Goddess Luo who drowned herself in the river, so will I, out of grief, should you depart from this world before me." for one last time until her beloved would flutter his sparkling eyes open again, Y/N dried her tears and smiled brightly at Ying Zheng and Alvitr. "Hao! Mou mantai! Listen to my voice as I sing for you a beautiful melody. May you have sweet dreams and rest peacefully - And when your strength returns, please, return to me. And if not... The Vermillion Bird will burn to ashes, for the last time."
I want to be your love for ever and ever, Without break or decay. When the hills are all flat, The rivers are all dry. When it thunders in winter, When it snows in summer When heaven and earth mingle, Not till then will I part from you.
Thus, a melody was sung, through the cries of the weeping Vermillion bird, burning bright as the Sun, for her celestial Golden Dragon of Heavens, and the almighty White Tiger, shining silver like the moon.
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silkscream · 4 months
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CHAPTER 7: TOO YOUNG TO GROW WINGS
ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader
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He needed to learn how to stop being so goddamn obsessive. He’d work on it later, maybe. He’d try not to speak curses into existence from the way he felt about you.
At the moment, he wants to make this good for you. Something like love.
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ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: explicit content (18+ mdni) , unprotected sex, drunk sex, face sitting, blowjobs, cum eating (lol) lots and LOTS of angst, gore, blood, graphic descriptions of injuries, bullying, satoru being......... himself
ੈ✩ wc: 8.8k
ੈ✩ a/n: i wasnt gonna post this but then i was like well. i start a new job on monday so who knows if i'll be able to keep up the weekly update thing. this is also prob my fav chapter so i couldn't hold back OOPS enjoy the yaoi btw <3 title from angel by omar apollo
playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist
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April, 2009
Jujutsu Technical College looks lovely in the springtime—the golden light hits the room in a specific way that makes your body warm. You’re calm, nearly dozing off until three people barge into the classroom, taking up as much space as they can. When you open your eyes, you see Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko smiling at you as they take their seats.
The boys had convinced you to attend (with the help of Shoko) after informing you there was a generous stipend included with your education. Despite the scholarship you’d gotten from the college you’d meant to attend, they had easily persuaded you. You hadn’t had friends you were so close with before, after all.
“Suguru. Switch with her.”
“Huh?”
“Just do it. I want her to sit next to me.”
You lift your head, realizing that Satoru is talking about you. Suguru laughs nonchalantly and stands up to switch with you, and you move to replace him when you notice Satoru’s baby blues searing into your skin. He grins at you brightly as you roll your eyes.
It’s been like this for weeks – Satoru possessing you, claiming you, even though you never ask for it. Truthfully, it pools your stomach with ardor. You’ve never felt as wanted as you do when you were within a close radius of him. 
It dwindles eventually when you realize that the boys’ strength is so far beyond yours. In combat, they’re flawless, beautiful in their movements as they spar. You’re happier to watch than join—Shoko thinks the same, often rolling her eyes every time the two of you are assigned to practice hauling cursed energy for the sake of fighting. It’s nice when you can get her alone, studying healing techniques and watching her reversed curse technique grow.
Sometimes, you don’t even know why you’re here. Shoko is talented and you aren’t. You’re useful enough for superficial wounds, but you can’t do a reversed cursed technique. You doubt you could even heal something of a higher caliber than what you’re used to. You fear the prospect of this revelation on a mission that you know Yaga will eventually send you on. 
“Do they ever fight over you?” Shoko asks over a cigarette.
“Wh-what?”
“You know,” she drawls, smiling. “Satoru’s such a brat. Suguru is more open when you’re around. They’ve gotta be possessive, right?”
You shrug. You don’t know the extent of what she knows, but you can assume from the boys’ behavior that it was written all over their faces. Satoru’s hand on your waist, Suguru’s point to tower over you. Unspoken proximity wars between them with you in the middle. 
“I don’t know about that. They’re overprotective for sure,” you admit, taking a slow drag of her cigarette when she offers. 
“Twigs! Not you, too!” Satoru bellows. “Don’t give my girl your cancer sticks, Ieiri!”
Shoko laughs at that, grinning with the cigarette in between her teeth as you fold your hands into your lap.
My girl.
Satoru hovers over you and holds out his hands. Curiously, you take it, which you regret immediately when he pulls your body and hauls you over his shoulder. You thrash a bit as he laughs until you’re stumbling onto the grass. When Suguru throws a staff in your direction, you catch it reflexively. 
“Ready?” 
You roll your eyes. You’d gotten better at sparring, though you still choose to hang back and concern yourself with areas of Shoko’s expertise. She had become a mentor to you despite being a peer. Meanwhile, the boys had been trying to get you to practice combat, thinking you would do well with a cursed weapon.
You remember the first time you had tried to fight, watching Satoru and Suguru wrestle in the grass shortly after. Their raspy grunts, the skin of their waists underneath ridden-up shirts. The memory makes you flush.
“Yes,” you sigh.
You focus on Satoru’s eyes, saturated like a lightning strike. You were rather well-versed in the language of his body – you think that your intuition often matched Satoru’s rather equally. He was still much taller and larger than you, but you exceeded in your efforts to dodge. He didn’t often bother with hand-to-hand combat much anyway, much more focused on perfecting his inherent techniques.
You gasp when he decides to close the distance between you. The touch of his fingers on your skin is a jolt to the senses as his legs sweep you when you’re too occupied with dodging. You hit the ground with a thud, groaning.
“Sorry, babe,” he chuckles, leaning down to take your hand. When he does, you pull him backward so that he tumbles.
“Hey!”
“Payback,” you shrug. You maintain a fighting stance once again, staff in hand. 
Suguru often took you more seriously, offering to teach you martial arts when Satoru was off on solo missions. You breathe heavily as Satoru takes his first swing, which you dodge by a hair. 
Focused, you move with the grace of a ballet dancer, halting his movements with your staff the way Suguru had taught you. When you kick a leg high in the air, Satoru catches you by the ankle just for you to fall again. This time, you’re sure you’re bruised. 
“There’s still time for you to give up,” he teases. 
You groan in irritation, rising to your feet and walking closer to him. He smiles, enjoying seeing you pissed off and breathing so hard. He’s so wrapped up in looking at you that his senses are hit with whiplash – your fist gets through his Infinity easily and socks him square on the jaw.
“You little–”
“Why didn’t you have your Infinity on?” you exasperate, but he’s already pushing you to the ground and struggling with you the way you used to when you were children.
“I’m soooo gonna get you for that–”
You end up kicking him again, this time in the ribs as he groans. When you pin his wrists above his head, he merely stares at you with wild eyes and heaving breaths. His face is red and cherubic, and when he squirms, you squeeze his waist in between your thighs.
You lean down close to his face, your breath tickling his ear.
“I win,” you whisper. You flick him on the forehead and he flinches. You wonder again why he’s letting you touch him like this. 
“Letting you pin me down isn’t me letting you win, sweetheart,” he rasps lowly, only for you to hear. He rolls his hips slightly and it makes your eyes widen, much to his satisfaction. You frown and crawl away from him just in time to hear Shoko beckoning you.
“Lab time!” she calls after you. Without a second look at Satoru, you follow her inside.
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Satoru is lying on Suguru’s stomach, frowning because it isn’t as soft as yours. 
He’s also without entertainment since Suguru has been hogging his DS for the better part of an hour, which Satoru had only let him do because he claimed he wanted to take a nap. But, as per usual, he can’t sleep. He’s still roused from sparring with you, slightly sweaty still from the warmth and the mustiness of the dorm room, and his cock is getting hard again just from thinking about you on top of him. 
“Fuck,” Suguru swears under his breath, caught up in a game of Pokemon Emerald.
Satoru lifts his head to scoot his body higher, chin resting on Suguru’s forearm to peek at his progress. 
“You’re doing terribly.”
“I know that, thanks,” Suguru groans. “I have like, two backup Pokemon left and they’re both level 30.”
“Do you use the same technique with your curses?” Satoru teases. Suguru makes another agitated noise again in response.
“You should’ve brought your Game Cube from home.”
Satoru shrugs, sighing as he sits up. He snatches his DS out of Suguru’s hands, interrupting the boy’s protest with a wet kiss to the mouth. Suguru kisses back immediately, tongue peeking into Satoru’s mouth before he pulls away.
“You haven’t kissed me in months,” he chuckles. Satoru shrugs. 
“Maybe you haven’t kissed me in months.”
“I would’ve thought you’d count it as cheating.”
Satoru is quiet for a moment, rubbing Suguru’s jawline with his fingers gently. He’s been rather gluttonous lately, and he thinks Suguru is starting to catch on. He’s been clingier to the both of you, obnoxiously so, acting more of a nuisance to you specifically for the sake of attention. His heart is aflame whenever he sees you interact with Suguru in ways that are both good and bad, but he doesn’t prefer to dwell on it for very long before he nearly forces you to give him attention.
“Having withdrawals?”
“Huh?”
“She’ll be back soon,” Suguru laughs cruelly. “Whenever she’s gone for a bit, you act like you’re fucking dying.”
“No, I don’t,” Satoru frowns. But he knows he’s lying.
“Don’t mope. C’mere.”
Suguru sighs, seemingly out of pity. He grabs Satoru by the face and sticks his tongue in his mouth – a rough kiss out of spite, out of unbridled passion. He’d dreamt about Satoru and you for weeks, always sneaking glances. 
He’d considered taking both of you months before when you and Satoru and Shoko threw him an impromptu surprise birthday party despite his refusal. He had seen you tipsy, squirming in Satoru’s lap while Utahime set up karaoke on the television, and decided he’d let you come to him when you wanted to. You were still a shy thing even after New Year’s, never asking again for his touch.
Satoru groans, palming his dick over his slacks as he leans back. He could feel his cock leaking in his boxers already just from the roughness of Suguru’s knuckles grazing his skin. There was a manic buzz in his head, thrilled by the slight power imbalance he was allowing. 
Suguru hadn’t touched him since before he started seeing you, and even then, it was mostly rudimentary teenage lust. Jerking off to magazines together. Seeing how much they could take in their mouths before gagging like it was a competition.
“Fuck,” Satoru grunts, feeling Suguru’s tongue on his clavicle.
“You thinking about her?”
“Yeah,” he rasps.
Suguru chuckles darkly, biting harder at the bone. “She was so hot today. I taught her those moves, y’know.”
Satoru makes a mumbled nose, eyes fluttering shut as Suguru palms him. He unbuttons his slacks to reveal the snowy trail of hair above his pubic bone, Satoru’s cock flushed and weeping as Suguru holds it. 
“Want me to fuck you?”
“Use your mouth,” Satoru pants. He knots a fist in Suguru’s dark hair. “Want it like this.”
He hisses when he feels Suguru’s mouth. His jaw slackens at the feeling, gasping for air when Suguru hollows his cheeks to suck tightly. Satoru shoves him down further.
His body feels tight when Suguru motions a finger towards his hole, pausing to spit on his fingers beforehand. With two fingers stretching him open, Satoru pants and gasps. His thighs twitch, hips rolling upward into Suguru’s mouth like it was a cunt.
Your face flashes in Satoru’s mind and it makes his insides careen. Brain like pulped fruit. He opens his eyes to see Suguru’s, narrowed and golden and taunting. It’s similar to the way you look at him, sometimes.
The fist in Suguru’s hair tightens now, knuckles white. Satoru grunts brutishly, overwhelmed by the stimulation in his hole in tandem with Suguru’s tongue pressing on the underside of his cock. 
“Fuck, gonna cum–” 
Suguru moans, jaw aching only slightly. Satoru could feel his dick inside Suguru’s mouth, heat building up until he spills onto the boy’s tongue. His head falls back. Breathing like he’d just run a marathon.
“You need a better appetite. Shit tastes like battery acid.”
“Doesn’t all cum taste like that?” Satoru frowns. His hand is still in Suguru’s hair.
“You tell me.” Suguru kisses him, licking the inside of Satoru’s molars. His lips move against Satoru’s mouth slowly, listless so he can take himself. When he pulls away, Satoru wipes the slick off his mouth, plump and bitten.
“You’re exaggerating.”
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May, 2009
The sky is oddly grey this afternoon despite the pleasant morning. Yamanashi prefecture is as beautiful as ever with cherry blossoms blooming, but as you approach the cursed site, you continue to feel a chill down your spine. 
It’s your first real mission. One that Yaga had at least approved you for after you had nailed your physical assessments, able to imbue enough cursed energy into a katana to swing around without slicing yourself. Still, you were meant to act as backup for Suguru, which Satoru hated. 
“Why don’t we just both go with her?” he had wailed to Yaga days before, to which Yaga grunted in dismissal. 
“You have a solo mission.”
“But–”
“That’ll be the end of it, Satoru.”
Admittedly, you do wish he was here. Suguru is a comforting presence, though, calmer in demeanor but much less talkative than what you’re used to. You walk with him through overgrown grass and lengthy vines. 
“What kind of curse are we supposed to find?” you question out loud. 
Suguru shrugs. “It’s difficult to tell exactly, but I’m assuming the cursed spirits roaming around here will be, er, women-shaped? Maybe. It should be Grade 2 at most."
“What do you mean, women? What happened here?”
“You don’t know? This place is super haunted.”
“So we’re ghost-hunting.”
“Ghost exorcising,” Suguru grins. “There used to be gold mines here in the 16th century owned by the Takeda Clan. They also ran brothels for the miners. After the Battle of Nagashino, the clan had to give up the land, but not before they killed all the prostitutes to keep them from spreading information about the gold mines.”
“H-how did they kill them?” 
“The miners had the women dance at a farewell party, then they hacked the vines that kept up the bridge they were on. They fell into the waterfall.”
“That’s horrible,” you frown. Foreboding swells in your chest. 
You can’t sense any cursed energy around you other than Suguru’s. You’re too busy ruminating to watch your step, accidentally tripping over a thick root. You fall forward into Suguru’s arms. 
“You okay?” he croons. His face is inches from yours and you forget how to breathe.
“Y-yes. Sorry.” As you untangle yourself from him, your body jolts. You gasp when you hear the hint of a wretched, bloodcurdling scream in the far distance that makes your blood run cold. It isn’t very loud, but it almost sounds muffled, like someone was screaming from another room.
“What? What is it?”
“Did you not hear that?” you whisper. 
Suguru frowns at you in confusion, his expression seemingly genuine. You blink, trying to shake off the horrible feeling in your body. 
“I think I just heard something. It sounded like a scream.”
Suguru waits, prompting you to elaborate. The forest seems darker now despite it being midday, the curl of the trees billowing in a way that feels uncanny. A girl-shaped forest. 
“Maybe we should split up.”
“Absolutely not,” Suguru protests, his mouth set in a firm line. You hold his hand in yours, stroking it gently with your thumb. 
“Suguru, you can’t expect to protect me the entire time. I need to learn how to handle things on my own–”
An inhuman gurgle rumbles from behind you. The curse looks similar to a reptile, yet human-like with webbed hands and sharp incisors slick with algae. The stench of mud is apparent in the air now. It drools green sludge before it bows.
You stand in shock, unsure of what to do as you lock eyes with Suguru. Warily, you draw your sword, and the curse’s eyes roll back in agitation as it lets out another gurgle. 
“Oh, shit–”
You dodge a projectile of slime, but it crawls towards you at a faster pace than you expect. A slice of your katana dismembers one of its arms, but it easily grows back. Within seconds, a giant curse rises from the ground and swallows it up, teeth mashing on gooey flesh in a way that makes you want to hurl. Suguru’s ringworm curse is dismissed once the riverbank is cleared.
“What was that about not needing me to protect you?” Suguru sneers.
“I still mean it,” you exasperate, heart hammering out of your chest. “You barely gave me time.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll let you have the next one, I swear.”
He smiles genuinely. Satoru must’ve gotten to him – he’s not nearly as neurotic as Satoru in that way, but he wouldn’t be able to stand it if you got hurt. It was less of a possessiveness thing and more of a selflessness thing. Suguru had always been the one to be reliable. He was also more perceptive than Satoru in the way that he could practically feel the tightness of the leash he held on you. 
If you were going to be something in the Jujutsu world, you wouldn’t be held back. Suguru thought you could be something ever since he saw you.
You continue to walk with him, knuckles brushing as the air turns thick. Suguru thinks that maybe you’re sulking in his periphery, so he pokes your cheek.
“Yes?”
“You’re awfully quiet.”
“Just thinking,” you mutter.
The katana feels heavy on your back. You had never thought of yourself as a particularly strong person, growing up to be obedient. A maid’s daughter. Hands a little rough from housework and the dirt of the Earth when you were wild, once. 
“Let me walk around in that little brain of yours,” Suguru murmurs, always charming.
You pause, swallowing. You realize you have never spoken your insecurities out loud. When you were on the brink of it, it would always be during petty arguments with Satoru, who had a way of shutting you down dismissively. He was always a bit of a control freak, even with you.
“Do you think I’m weak?” Your voice sounds almost frail.
“Of course not. I think you’re very talented, actually,” Suguru says. “Satoru and I– we just care a lot.”
“I’m not sure if talented would be the word. It’s not like he thinks so, either.”
“He does. He just doesn’t know how to express his feelings.”
There seems to be something lingering in his tone that gnaws at you. The way he sighs. You decide not to pry, attempting to steer the conversation away from Satoru altogether. 
You hear a wail again. Something in the shape of a girlish scream but only the echo of it. Suguru gives you that confused look at him and you aren’t sure if he’s just messing with you at this point. He touches your hand again and the motion makes you wince.
“What’s wrong?” He looks genuinely worried now as he looks at you, holding a hand to your jaw. That alone is mildly unnerving for some reason, even though you think that in any other environment, you’d welcome it. You place your hand over his palm.
“Do you really not hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“That woman screaming!” you hiss. 
“Are you sure it isn’t some wild animal?”
You blink at him blankly.
“You don’t hear it.”
When he shakes his head, you hear it again. You begin to walk towards the source of it while Suguru stalks behind you, but you stop him. 
“Maybe I should handle this.”
He grimaces, clearly unhappy. You raise your brows, challenging him. Suguru wants to hold you back but he knows he shouldn’t. 
“Hey, another fucking– river monster could show up, and you’d be able to handle it. Maybe this is something that only I can see or hear. We’ll be too conspicuous with both of our cursed energy.”
He says your name with a hint of desperation and discipline, but you hold your gaze firmly. 
“Okay,” Suguru sighs. “But if anything goes wrong, just yell for me, okay?”
You nod. 
The tall grass tickles your legs as you move, which makes you thankful you decided to wear trousers instead of your usual skirt for the mission. Your hand grips the strap of your sword bag with anxiety. As you get closer, it’s as if the air is permeated with a smell that you can only describe as being in between sex and blood.
The scream you hear is louder now. You aren’t sure if it’s truly a hallucination, but it seems like the forest laughs back at you after. If you were a smarter person, perhaps you’d return to your partner. But you also assume that if you were to do that, you’d be a weaker person.
You walk over a wooden bridge that feels like it’s holding on by the barest thread. The creaking of the bridge beneath your weight adds to the unease that has settled in your gut. Every step forward feels like a gamble, a test of your bravery. The forest seems to close in around you, the trees whispering secrets you can't quite decipher. 
A scream rips through the air and this time, against your better judgment, you follow it.
It’s punctuated with sobs and whimpers, getting louder and louder as you walk along the path. Cursed energy flickers in the shape of a girl. When you get closer, you see her. 
A girl is sitting in a fetal position behind a tree, clutching her shoulder as she wails in agony. Her long black hair is matted and damp. She doesn’t seem to notice you yet, so you swiftly move to hide yourself between shrubbery to get a better look.
“P-p-please… help me…” she sobs. You choke up at the sight of her torn dress, hands and shoulder crimson with blood. She looks younger than you – no older than fifteen.
You grasp the strap of your sword bag tightly and cautiously as you walk towards her. Her eyes widen when she sees you. You aren’t sure if it’s a look of relief or fear.
“Hi there,” you say with a tremor in your voice. “What’s your name?”
“Akane,” the girl whimpers. Her face is pale with bruised lips.
“Akane. Are you lost? How did you get this injury?” You crouch down to meet her at eye level. 
“Th-there was a man… I was trying to run away from him… but I’m in t-too much pain to keep going,” she breathes. “Please help me.”
You furrow your brows. You’re surprised that there was anyone in this forest besides those grotesque cursed spirits considering how abandoned and desolate the place was. The girl must’ve run far. 
“Where are you from, Akane?”
“Tabayama.”
“That’s not too far from here,” you smile softly. “Let me heal you and my friend and I can get you back home, okay?”
You reach for her arm but she flinches and looks at you with unease. 
“It’s okay,” you reassure her. “I’m a healer, see?”
Your cursed energy waxes and wanes within your palm like a luminous mist. You hover it over a superficial cut on your hand that you’d gotten from dealing with thorns earlier and the skin patches up like new. Akane watches in awe.
“I want to help you. Is it okay if I touch you?”
She nods her head apprehensively. You unwrap the saturated cloth from her shoulder, cringing at the sight of the gore and blood. You can’t quite envision the type of violence she’d just been through from the vagueness of her words, but you don’t want to make the poor girl explain in the midst of her trauma. 
It’s more effort than what you’re used to – the wound is so deep that you fear that you’ll overexert yourself. You’d spent enough time in the lab with Shoko to improve your technique, but this time, it seems as if everything you’re doing isn’t enough. The skin on the girl’s shoulder is healing very slowly, and when you think that her condition is improving, another area of her body seems to bleed out.
“Maybe I should get my friend to help. He could take us to a hospital.”
“He?”
You look up to see Akane’s eyes grow cold. Almost lifeless, as if she’s looking through you. You hear the visceral sound of a limb breaking, the squelch of her organs. It seems as though her face is transforming right in front of your eyes, but it feels like an illusion – the way her skin looks decayed, the way her teeth grow sharper. 
Akane – or what was Akane – cackles cruelly. Her cursed energy is overwhelming now, suffocating you. There’s a warbled cry that falls from her mouth.
“I’ll kill him.”
This is not a fucking Grade 2 curse.
You immediately get to your feet and swing your katana, but the curse blocks your attack easily. She’s also growing exponentially, no longer the size of a teenage girl and more like the river monster you’d seen earlier. She grabs you by the ankle, tripping you. A hack to the wrist with your katana makes the creature scream even more. You watch in horror as thick, black blood seeps out.
You yell Suguru’s name at the top of your lungs.
You see the Rainbow Dragon first, flying through the forest around you and the curse, but the nails on her other hand are strong enough to slice through the dragon’s hide. When you turn to lock eyes with Suguru, the curse lets out something in between a sob and a scream, shrill in your ears. 
It seems as though she forgets you entirely, running head-first towards Suguru. 
“I’ll… kill…. youuuuuuu!”
“No!” you screech, pulling her backward by the leg with all the strength you can muster. You slash the curse’s skin with your katana, making her wail, but she pins you down in retaliation with cuts to your arm from its sharp nails. 
You hiss at the pain. You notice that her hair has transformed into its own entity, tentacle-like and razor-sharp as it slices through one of Suguru’s hound-like curses. She directs her attention back at him and aims for his neck, but you hold down a bloody hand onto her back as your hand pulls one of her sharp hairs back. 
You cry out at the wound it makes in your hand, but your other stays pressed to the slimy flesh of her body. Your cursed energy ignites something unfamiliar in your body, something painful, but you imbue it into your touch with all you have. 
She’s screaming. Or maybe you are. You can’t tell anymore – your head is dulling from expending more cursed energy than you ever have. It’s all dissonant to you. A horrific cacophony. You feel blood drip from your nose. 
The curse’s flesh is rotting. As if the wounds she had when she appeared as a human were only rapidly progressing into decay, cells rupturing, body degenerating the harder you push. 
It’s like she turns to mush. The corpse of the curse is barely recognizable anymore, just a puddle of chunky purplish-black blood. 
You breathe heavily, looking up to see Suguru staring at you in shock. You try to give him a weak smile, but you don’t feel anything other than sick. Or maybe it’s numbness, at least for a few seconds as the forest is quiet again.
You double over and vomit. Your vision blacks out.
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As a surprise to no one, Gojo Satoru is fucking livid. 
He’s about to open his mouth but stops himself when Suguru gives him a look of disdain. There’s no one to yell at, except maybe Yaga, because why the fuck would he put you on a mission that could potentially involve a Special Grade?
“She’s fine,” Suguru affirms. 
Satoru merely exhales through his nostrils, curling his hands into fists as he slumps down on the bench next to Suguru. He can’t help but envision your corpse, his brain reeling a horrific supercut of all the ways you could’ve been disfigured, maimed, bruised. Changed.
He realizes that the protectiveness over you he feels has turned into something ugly now that he knows you’re in the infirmary, something akin to fear, which is foreign to him. 
It sinks into him like teeth down to the marrow, parasitic. He thinks of a faceless curse that he wants to tear apart with his bare hands. Satoru had tried to get over the desire to keep you in a cage, to keep you so unbearably close to him out of his own selfishness, but the feeling came back. He doesn’t know where to keep it other than lodged in his chest like a bullet.
“Did you absorb it, Suguru? Because I might need you to summon it later so I can get my fucking hands on it myself,” Satoru says, his voice low and seething through gritted teeth.
“No,” Suguru sighs.
Satord nods dumbly. Silence ensues.
“She killed it herself.”
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You have dreams while you’re passed out. The curse you killed transforms its face from its teenage girl form and into others. You see Shoko, Suguru, Satoru. Everyone you’ve ever known. And when the skin of its face starts to rot the same way it did when you used your technique on it, you end up staring at yourself. 
When you wake, it’s slow. The fluorescents in the infirmary don’t help. From outside of the room, you can hear hushed voices. 
When you attempt to lift your body off the bed, you see Shoko sleeping in a chair next to you. Your bones ache, your skin stinging with the ghost of a wound. The cut on your palm from being slashed by the curse is a scar now.
You drop your head again, squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to rest more. It’s too fucking bright in this room. Your breathing stills when you hear the door creak open.
“For fuck’s sake,” a voice bristles. 
You hear another whispering Shoko’s name. Waking her, you assume.
“How is she doing?”
“She’s okay,” Shoko yawns. “Just sleeping. Her wounds were kind of deep, but I took care of it.”
A hand caresses your jaw gently, fingers stroking through your scalp. Your eyes blink open slowly to see Satoru grimacing above you. From the way the overhead light illuminates the back of his head, you think he almost looks like an angel. A makeshift halo shining on moonlit hair.
You notice the way he holds his fist tightly and the iciness of his gaze. It’s a fraction of rage, which makes you feel nauseous again. You’d seen that look on his face before, during the night of Shoko’s party. You wonder now, vaguely, what he looks like when he kills.
“Hey,” you mumble weakly.
“Hey,” he scoffs. “Wanna tell me what the fuck happened?”
“Satoru, let her be–”
“It’s okay,” you interrupt. You rise, wincing at the soreness of your muscles. “Um. I… killed the curse.”
“So I’ve been told,” Satoru deadpans. His jaw is tense, but his eyes soften. He looks up, flickering his gaze between Shoko and Suguru.
Shoko clears her throat. “She used her technique. The healing part of it is based on cell regeneration. Apparently, it can also be used… the opposite way. It must've been activated by adrenaline, and then it was too much. Passed out from exhaustion.”
“How is that possible?”
“Well, our technique is like a muscle, right? And she didn’t use hers very rigorously until now, so…”
“Right,” Satoru sighs, his voice clipped.
“I need a smoke,” Shoko rasps. “Do you need anything, baby?”
You smile weakly, shaking your head. 
You can’t help but feel guilt snaking its way into your body. Even though you had exorcised a curse, your first actual achievement in Jujutsu sorcery, the bloodshed you’d experienced feels fruitless. You don’t feel very powerful at all, only monstrous. 
It’s difficult to gauge what Satoru is thinking. He’s clearly upset about the fact that you got hurt, but you wonder if there’s more. If he resents you pulling a stunt like that and nearly killing yourself in the process—because what would you be if not his? Are you still his with bloodstained hands? Would he like you better now that you could prove to be strong?
It didn’t matter. He would always be stronger. 
You hate the tension in the air. You can’t bear it. Maybe they’ll disperse once you get on your feet. There wasn’t anything left to do with your treatment since Shoko had tired herself with your wounds. 
When you swing a leg over the cot and attempt to sit up straight, an invisible wall stops you. You glare at Satoru holding his hand out, palm outstretched inches away from your chest.
“No,” he snaps.
“Don’t do that,” you grumble. “I’m fine.”
He laughs but there’s no amusement in his tone. His eyes are cold again. Pools of ice.
“Right. You’re in fucking pristine shape.”
“Satoru,” Suguru warns.
“I– I can walk–”
“No,” Satoru repeats. “You’re hurt. Stop it.”
You look between Satoru’s hard gaze and Suguru’s frown and roll your eyes. You’re so tired, and overwhelmed with pain that transcends the physical kind. You can’t even put a name to it, the amount of emotions spilling out of you as you look at the two of them with mild desperation. You want to sleep for another twelve hours.
Irritation flares behind your face. You aren’t sure if you want to scream or cry for catharsis, but you stay quiet, trembling.
“I want to be in my bed,” you mutter.
Satoru lets out a breath as if he’s been holding it for a while. Gently, he touches the nape of your neck, Infinity down. Laces his fingers in your hair in a sort of compromise. He moves his arm underneath your back with the other under your knees and lifts you, kicking off the blankets.
You curl into him, head on his chest. It made it hard for Satoru to breathe, for some reason, like something was stealing the air from his lungs. He nods to Suguru as a voiceless confirmation, watching his cursed energy flare. I’ll take it from here.
When he gets you into your room, Satoru releases you, placing you gingerly on the floor. Part of him wants to shake you by the shoulders, have you slap him across the face for reasons unknown to him. Something, anything other than the despondence of your limp figure. He can’t stand it.
“Satoru,” you whisper. “I’m sorr–”
“Don’t,” he strains. “Do you even know why you’re apologizing? Or is it just second nature to you?”
You say nothing.
He strips off your uniform, torn and battered. Still reeking of copper blood, the stench all too familiar, but not on you. 
“I’m sorry for being mean. I was just worried,” he says. “I’m… proud of you.”
“Proud?” You look at him, dazed, as if this is the last thing you expect him to say.
He nods curtly, a sad smile on his face. “I always knew you had it in you.”
He picks you up again despite your futile protest, walking you to the attached bathroom. After turning on the faucet, he sits next to you, hand stroking your thigh gently in silence. He doesn’t look at you. He’s not sure if he can.
“C’mon. Up.” He taps your thigh once.
You’re still dizzy as you enter the bath, sighing at the warmth of the water. As you sink into the bath, a sense of relief washes over you, momentarily easing the tension in your body. A much-needed respite.
You feel Satoru trail his fingers around your collarbone, rising to feel your pulse. The rhythm seems to calm him as he soothes his palm over your shoulders and back. His touch is less urgent than it usually is. 
He squeezes shampoo in your hair and threads his fingers through it, scratching your scalp gently, untangling the mess of you. He saturates a washcloth with soap, rubbing small circles over your limbs, lifting you like you’re a doll. It was funny—he had never had to take care of anyone other than himself before, but at the moment, he’s indulged in the small hums of pleasure you make, reveling in your comfort. Your trust.
He likes taking care of you. It makes him feel like he has a sense of control. He doesn’t want to indulge too far into it, knowing it’ll smolder a nasty part of him in some way. But the steam of the hot water makes his cheeks ruddy, and when you open your eyes at the feeling of his hand on your jaw, he can’t help but want to keep you. 
Satoru turns your face toward him, cupping your chin as he leans in to kiss you. Your mouth opens like a flower blooming, ready for him like always. He tries not to be rough despite the moan you tease out of him. Your skin is soft after he bathes you. His hands know carnage, but they also know you.
You break apart, looking at each other for a few seconds before he kisses you again. He pecks your mouth, nose, and cheeks, leaving you to scrunch your nose by the end. Laughing, he rinses your hair.
“Feel better?” he asks lightly. You nod. 
“C’mon, baby. You’re gonna get all pruney in there.”
You’re perfectly capable of drying yourself off and putting on clothes, but Satoru seems eager to do it for you, so you stay limp in his arms. He’s being oddly affectionate as he babies you, which he never does. It’s usually the other way around.
With his hands on your waist, a dangerous thought flits through Satoru’s mind, but it dissipates when he fixes your hair to see you fresh-faced. You look young, innocent. Untouched by violence like he had known you before. 
He takes you to the bed, where, despite the size of it, he manages to slot his body next to yours so he can curl into you. Head on your chest to listen to the murmur of your heartbeat. 
You stay like this for a while, listening to each others’ breaths. You’re on the brink of sleep when you think you feel tears on your chest. Dampness on your cotton shirt, but only a little. Satoru exhales heavily, squeezing the meat of your side. You’re feeling a little too warm from the proximity but don’t have the heart to untangle yourself. You close your eyes.
“I love you.”
You aren’t sure if it’s a whisper in your dreams or not.
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June, 2002
You both had matching bruises. Green and yellowish like snot.
The summer was changing you and Satoru in a way that held gravity. Satoru’s body was growing more and more, handsome like the beautiful child he’d been when you first met him, and you were a purgatory. Something girlish. Something ghostly.
Your mother had reprimanded you last week for coming back with a bloody knee, scolding you for rough play. The expiration on your youth seemed to be ticking from the way she chastised you about your shared misbehavior with Satoru – you were meant to grow into something polite and womanly.
Satoru had scoffed at the notion when you told him. He liked that you weren’t obsequious to him like everyone else in his life who treated him like a little prince. 
Unfortunately, you’d pave the road of your abjection all by yourself later on.
He still thought of you as the only person who understood him. He was your first friend, your only friend for a while, and you were his. You’d count stars with him. Catch fireflies and make wishes on them. Wear each other’s clothes before his growth spurt.
You’d clung to each other for years—it was difficult to tell which one of you was the parasite. Despite this, sometimes you think Satoru hates you. Sometimes he makes you cry, especially with how apathetic he can be. You blame his stoicism on his upbringing, but there are times that you feel like an afterthought, only exacerbated as he grows older and into something of worth.
At age twelve, it’s difficult for you to believe that you could be anything similar.
Your young ferocity gets minimized to meekness at school. There’s hair-pulling, harder than Satoru’s ever done to you. Stolen lunches. Spitballs to your back. Your face kissing pavement.
“What happened to you?” Satoru asks, narrowing his eyes at the sight of your split lip.
“I fell.”
He’s forceful when he drags you to him. He’s too tall for his age, towering over you with cold blue eyes staring down at you. You flinch when he touches your cheek with his hand.
“You’re lying,” he frowns.
“It’s fine,” you mumble.
He doesn’t pry after that, but he does force you to clean the cut with hydrogen peroxide, which is ironic considering how little he cares about his own cuts and bruises from his private training.
On the playground the next day, you’re targeted again, reaching desperately for your backpack that’s stolen straight from your hands. A kick to the shins has you scraping your palms when you try to ground yourself. Your hands sting as they bleed. You gasp when you feel another kick to the stomach, a cruel round of laughs taunting you.
But then, you hear them gasp. The sound of knuckles hitting bone. 
“Touch her again and I’ll fucking kill you.”
Satoru lifts you up by the hand and holds you by the shoulders. He picks the debris out of your hair.
“C’mon, let’s go home,” he sighs. He ignores the tears on your cheeks. He’ll wipe them away later along with the dried blood in your palms.
You’ll shower in his bathroom, mind blank under the hot water. He’ll see your silhouette through the peek in the door, and his stomach will lurch in a new way. He won’t be able to look at you for a week after. 
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June, 2009
He comes to you at night a little drunk. You’re surprised Satoru didn’t warp this time – you’re used to seeing him in the blink of an eye right before you go to sleep just because he doesn’t want to sleep in his own room. Sleep is hardly a thing for him anyway – his insomnia has gotten a bit worse over the years, so he prefers to play on his Nintendo DS quietly as he strokes your hair. 
“You actually knocked?” 
He shrugs as he moves past you to flop his long body onto your twin bed. You look at him in question. He doesn’t answer, only gesturing for you. 
“Come over here,” he slurs.
“Are you drunk?”
“Not–” he hiccups, “at all.”
“Satoru,” you berate.
“Okay, maybe I went a little crazy with the Dirty Shirleys. Needed a drink after the stupid fucking mission Yaga sent us on.”
“You shouldn’t be drinking this much. It’s a weekday.”
He mocks you and settles a hand over your waist. You notice the calluses on his hands, ironic considering he can never let anything touch him. But you can.
He sits you on his lap, rubbing your shoulders carefully. “How’s your night been?”
“Shoko made me watch Audition,” you frown.
“Oh. I love that one.”
“Of course you do,” you sigh, “Nothing scares you.”
You aren’t wrong. After assassination attempts and countless wretched curses thrown Satoru’s way, nothing could make him flinch anymore. 
“You scare me,” he pouts, undressing himself. Always staking his claim on you in this way – he wouldn’t leave if you asked, and you know that you won’t.
“I highly doubt that.”
“You should yell at me more. It’s kind of a turn-on when you’re mad.”
You roll your eyes as you turn off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness if not for the light of the moon and the annoying brilliance of Satoru’s eyes. Even his hair seems to glow in the dark, head dipped in starlight. 
As you lay on your side, you feel Satoru’s palm undulating your bare thigh, tickling you under the hem of your t-shirt. He breathes in the scent of your neck.
“You have goosebumps,” he mumbles against your hair. “Gonna get nightmares from the movie?”
“No.”
“I’ll protect you,” he giggles boyishly, body overheating with want.
He sucks on your neck, hand parting the plushness of your thighs. You keen at the feeling of his teeth and tongue, gasping at his large fingers sliding your panties to the side to prod your cunt.
“This is all I could think about today.”
“Yeah?” you whisper.
“Yeah,” he says, his voice rough. “Kept thinking about all those sounds you make. Kept thinking about your face.”
“You shouldn’t—ah—let yourself get so distracted on your missions.”
He laughs. “Whatever. Killed all those fuckers in less than ten minutes anyway.”
Satoru keeps you pressed to his chest, his other hand grasping your breast. You feel his dick hardening behind you as he plays with your cunt, fingers knuckle-deep inside you. It didn’t take him long to find your spot the way he had you memorized. Your eyes shut tightly as you moan. Stars knock around your head.
He turns your face toward his and licks at the seam of your lips, tongue roughly licking the inside of your mouth. Your body tingles at the sound of his groans. He holds you by the chin, hand slipping around your throat to hold you in place so he can take in every detail of your face. 
You flush under his gaze, how his blown-out pupils outweighed the ocean blue. His pink mouth is parted and breathing out, zephyrs of maraschino cherry tickling your face.
You cry out when he pins you down, sinks his cock into your wetness. A wounded sound. It makes him shiver, makes him think about you on that dingy cot a month ago in the infirmary. Satoru was about ready to avenge you in any way he could, back then, even when you weren’t even half-dead. He’d reshape mountains. Drown the whole city of Tokyo with his bare hands.
In the way he holds you with bruising force, rutting into you like a devoted dog, he decides that he will be the only person to hurt you. The only one who should, knowing that even with his regrets and jagged ways of caring, no one else should lay a finger on you except him. He’d never hurt you in a violent way, unless his passion had counted. If devouring you counted, which it probably did, he would be content with his selfishness if it meant you were safe.
He needed to learn how to stop being so goddamn obsessive. He’d work on it later, maybe. He’d try not to speak curses into existence from the way he felt about you.
At the moment, he wants to make this good for you. Something like love.
“Made for me,” he whispers. “You were fucking made for me.”
“Yes,” you gasp.
He splits you open, spearing into your gut as he mumbles praises lowly into your ear. Your cunt pulses at the sound of his voice. He thrusts into you harshly, making blood rush to your head.
“You make me feel insane,” he grunts. “Used to think about you like this in high school. You were so fucking stubborn, refusing to give me attention.”
“You were a brat,” you flush. “Still are.”
“Your brat.”
“Mine,” you hum.
He groans at that. He’s so deep in you, drowning in syrupy velvet. He liked it when your body made him feel like this, like he was levitating. He wasn’t Gojo with you, always Satoru, always just a boy. He’d be content in this infinite spiral, swapping spit in between tongues and fucking into you until you cried. Your body is sacred. You made him forget himself when he needed to.
You like when he carves you out like this, your cunt a shrine for him at this point. You moan at the loss of him, watching through glassy eyes as he stumbles, fixing your body in between his knees.
“Wanna see my pretty girl’s face,” he groans. He’s annoyingly rough when he enters again, but you love it. He says your name like it’s a prayer.
Your head buzzes as he thrusts into you faster this time. His hair sticks to his face, tickling your cheek as he bites into your neck. Midnight vignettes blur your vision. 
“Wish you’d let me have you earlier,” he pants.
“Fucking me for the past year wasn’t enough?”
He shakes his head. “Wish I lost it to you. I was thinking about you during it, too.”
“Satoru,” you whine.
He means it. He was already blunt as could be, but alcohol made him over-honest. He liked that his candor made you blush.
“Would you have let me fuck you?” he teases. “When we were fifteen?”
“No. You were even stupider then.”
“So mean to me,” he chuckles, rolling his hips more aggressively. He revels in watching you squirm. “I would’ve worshipped you.”
“No, you wouldn’t have,” you mumble, hiding your face in his chest. Nails cross-hatching the length of his back.
“I would’ve.” I will.
He kisses you open-mouthed like it’s a promise, pulling your hair in the process. The room was starting to get hot, that June humidity unforgiving, even at night. You’d have to open a window later. His body makes yours swelter, skin melting into skin like he’s trying to fuse the both of you into one thing. Like that Greek myth about two halves of a soul.
“Fuck, ‘m so close,” he whimpers. “You feel too good. Shit, I wanted to make you beg.”
“Sounds like you’re the one begging,” you exhale.
“Yeah,” he grunts. “Want you. You’re killing me. Fuck.”
He spills inside of you at the same time you cum, the heaviness of his low groans making your brain break. He’s still drunk, head swimming with every part of you. Above you, he sports that fallen angel look again, eyes gleaming with rapture. Prodigious as he was, he worships you instead, blessed with love bruises adorning his shoulder.
Satoru always liked to fuck you like it was the last day he’d ever have you. Tonight is no different. 
He exhales at the juncture of your neck, soothed by your hands in his hair. He lifts his body up, kissing your collarbone before he descends to your belly. You tremble at the feeling of his hand cupping your cunt.
“Satoru, I can’t–”
“Please?” he pouts, his breath tickling your clit. “Wanna taste you. All mixed up with me.”
Heat rises to your face violently. “You’re disgusting.”
“You love it.”
“You made such a mess,” you grumble.
“I’ll clean it up,” he grins. 
You let him. His sharp mouth never lets up, anyway.
“Wait! Sit on my face.”
“I can’t even feel my legs,” you pout.
He whines your name. “I had such a tough mission today, baby. You don’t think I deserve it?”
“Spoiled,” you mumble as you switch positions with him. Below you, he looks feral in the eyes, over-eager. Hungry like a wolf even after fucking you hard.
You gasp when he pulls you down, slotting your thighs on each side of his head while he starts to taste you. Licking up into your cunt, moaning at the taste of himself and the sweetness of you. He grips your ass, guiding your movements like the ebb and flow of a wave. You shake above him.
“Jesus.”
You feel him laugh, the vibrations tickling your clit. 
“Annoying slut,” you call him. He seems to enjoy it, thinking of it as praise considering how loud he groans. It almost embarrasses you.
That familiar feeling twinges in your core again. 
“Cum for me, baby,” he breathes. He latches his mouth on your clit and you think you might burst. Maybe crumble and fly away in the wind like a dandelion.
He continues to suck on you as you ride out your orgasm, your thighs trembling. When he gets up for air, his eyes are blown out wide, drunken smile on his face as if he’s peaking. Chemical reactions in his blood.
“So good for me,” he grins, kissing you on the mouth. Your heart flutters.
His gaze is still searing into you. Looking at him hurts, sometimes. 
Satoru presses into you, curling into your neck again. His heartbeat reverberates throughout the room. Tenderness floods the both of you, bodies slotted together like he wants to make a nest out of you. 
You’re exhausted with heavy lids. Satoru strokes your skin until you fall asleep, careful fingers soothing the places his mouth had been. Divine wounds. Like a devotional dog with teeth too sharp and love larger than his body, Satoru will be the only one to hurt you.
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shdo-xplosion · 1 year
Text
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k. bakugou x reader
warnings: medieval au, angst with a somewhat happy ending, childhood friends to lovers (with some hiccups in between), brief mentions of death, morbid jokes, outdoor sex, p in v, fem-bodied reader, bkg calls you his ‘woman’ once
word count: 3k
notes: tbh i do not know where this came from. i had a very vague idea and ran with it, and here we are. hopefully everyone can enjoy it! (´͈ ᵕ `͈ )
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You’ve been traveling for so damn long, legs sore from the never ending trek, heels blistered from the rub of your boots, face chafed from the dry winds.
It could be worse, you suppose. The elements could be harsher. You’re lucky that it’s springtime and you’re not stuck in the dead of summer or winter. Plus, your company is better than most. It’s quiet between the two of you, as it has been for the last couple of years, but there’s no bickering, just a few snide comments borne of exhaustion. Truthfully, both of you are too tired to argue like you used to.
Suddenly, a rough hand shoots out to stop you in your tracks, and you look at Katsuki in alarm.
“Wha-”
“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”
His crimson eyes are fixed on something on the horizon. It’s nothing more than a glimmer to you, but if you squint…
“Is that…”
“Water.”
A river from the looks of it, beckoning you with open arms.
The two of you take off at a run (or the closest your aching bodies will allow), stumbling over dirt and grass until you’re at the edge of the glimmering stream. It babbles at you happily, splashing over rocks and caressing the earth around it.
“I’ve never seen anything so beautiful,” you half-joke. It is magnificent, but it still somehow pales in comparison to the man next to you who’s ripping his boots off. Not even this water could quench the craving you have for him.
“Gonna feel even better,” Katsuki mutters, glancing over at you then urging, “what, you shy? Take your clothes off n’ get in.”
Your cheeks heat at the demand but you end up doing just that. You haven’t bathed in god knows how long. The only water you had before was strictly for drinking no matter how much you had wanted to pour some over your head at times.
Like Katsuki, you pull your boots off first then shrug out of your outer layer of leather hide. Riding pants then your tunic. You hesitate at your undergarments, eyes darting to Katsuki’s already nude form as he drops to the ground and dips his legs in the river. His broad shoulders sag in relief, the wide expanse of his back exposed to the sunlight and glistening gold under the heat. You miss touching it, tracing over every pale scar, counting the stray freckles that dot his spine and ribs…
“Don’t be so awkward about it.” His voice snaps you out of your daydream. “Nothin’ I ain’t seen before.”
He’s right. It’s been a long time, but still. You’ve seen every inch of one another in the past, patching up training wounds then brushing lips over them.
“Don’t be so pushy,” you mumble, finally pushing your underwear down and taking off the wrap around your chest. Taking a deep, unencumbered breath, you let a small smile creep onto your face. The wind feels nice for once, cooling your skin that’s been sticky with sweat for what feels like forever.
Katsuki is standing now, up to his hips in the water, and holds a hand out for you. He doesn’t bother averting his eyes, only ever having been a gentleman when it’s suited him and apparently this is not one of those times.
It’s chilly at first, but after submerging your whole body, wetting your hair, the temperature is more than pleasant.
“Gods, that feels good,” you groan, scratching your nails over your dripping arms to scrub away as much grime as you can.
Katsuki dunks his head under, shakes his hair like a dog when he straightens up and pelts you in the face with stray drops. You splash him in return and initiate a small war, both of you now in a rare giddy mood despite your terrible circumstances.
The village was the only place you’d known. You spent your days like most of the other kids, tending to the land and training. It didn’t matter if you were a boy or a girl or whose house you came from. Everyone had to learn to fight, to brandish sword and shield and be ready to raise both in the event of a raid.
In the end that training hadn’t helped. What’s a few blades against a mountain of fire? How can a shield defend a burning corpse?
When all was lost—your mother, father, and the tiny shack you called home, you were ready to give up. Flames licked at your face, and smoke filled your lungs, but a familiar hand tugged you up from your knees and pulled, dragging you as he ran.
Out of the entire village, you and Katsuki are the only survivors.
You’ve thought about the event since your journey to the kingdom began, but in this moment, as the two of you fling water at each other, you don’t think about it at all. All you see is Katsuki’s sharp smile, the little crinkles at the corners of his eyes, the lightheartedness displayed on his face.
Even when you were kids Katsuki was a little severe. He was loud and abrasive and always scowling. Most of the other children were scared of him, but you never were. Where others saw rabid animal you saw a lonely boy who needed a friend, and you were more than happy to be that friend.
You were just training buddies at first and then your families began sharing meals, trading eggs for milk, splitting chores. Other families in the village had been doing the same for ages, but it had taken meeting Katsuki and his parents for yours to make the same connection.
Swapping meals turned to swapping stories, playing pretend, exploring the tall grasses and woods, and when both of you grew older it all progressed into something much more. Kisses under the moonlight, wildflowers at your window, nervous hands brushing over bare bodies.
Your parents knew and didn’t mind. The assumption was that you and Katsuki would start a family of your own, raise your own strong, passionate children.
Katsuki had other plans, though. A secret he had kept for years.
You’re going to leave me to fight for a king that doesn't care about us? Who keeps us pressed into the dirt with the toe of his boot?
I’m trying to make sure you’re okay! That everyone’ll be taken care of!
Everyone is fine here! We have land we can farm! We have stock to eat and water to drink!
How’s that enough for you?!
Your voices were raised, echoing through the trees that usually hid your late night escapades. Now they hid the end of them.
There was a town nearby. Small but bigger than the village. It had stone streets and places to shop, shelter that would actually keep you dry during storms and warm during winter. If Katsuki became a soldier, he’d be able to move you and his family there.
His family but not yours.
It simply wasn’t an option. You couldn’t leave them behind, and you were appalled that Katsuki would even suggest it. So that was it. That was your last real conversation. Everything else was about milk or eggs or crops. There was nothing left to say. Even when months passed and Katsuki didn’t leave the village you had no words for him, afraid to get reattached only to lose him.
Now, though, in the cleansing waters, it feels like you have everything to say, words that have been stuck in your throat since he pulled you from the cinders of your ruined village.
You watch him from the corner of your eye as he rubs his palms down his chest, nails reddening the muscles of his abdomen then scratching at the trail of hair that travels from his belly button to the water.
“Enjoying the view?” he chuckles, laugh growing when you whip your head away from him. “S’okay. I’m lookin’ too.”
That only makes you turn all the way around, crossing your arms over your breasts as the place between your legs begins to throb. He’s looking at you like that? After everything?
You take a shuddering breath, squeeze your eyes shut tight when you feel him touch your hip.
“Don’t.”
His thick fingers curl around the curved bone.
“Kat…”
“Why?” His voice is low, right behind you so that you feel the question on the nape of your neck.
“Because,” you sigh, “I don’t want you to just because you don’t have any other options. Just because it’s only us.”
“That’s not what I’m asking.”
His other hand is on you now, both reaching around your waist to lock right above your pelvis.
“Why’d you stop talkin’ to me? Why didn’t we ever make up?”
“Why didn’t you ever leave?” you counter.
He goes rigid, arms tightening around you. “Didn’t want to.” Then, much quieter, “didn’t wanna leave you.”
The words hit you right in the chest, ricocheting in your ribcage. You wiggle to turn in his grasp, eyes wide as they stare into his.
“Why didn’t you just tell me that?”
Katsuki frowns. One of those deep frowns. “You wouldn’t give me time of day! Any time you saw me you’d turn around. Could barely fuckin’ look at me.”
“Can you blame me?” You pull yourself out of his arms. “You wanted me to leave my parents behind. You wanted me to leave everything behind!”
“I wanted you to be taken care of! I wanted to take care of you!
You scoff. “I can take care of myself, Katsuki.”
“I know you can, but so can I. And I should,” he rasps. He looks more emotional than you’ve ever seen him, hair plastered to his forehead, water streaming into his pleading eyes. “I should be your husband by now.”
Your brain shuts down momentarily, unsure if you actually heard what he just said. He still wants to marry you?
“Of course I still wanna marry you!” Must have said that out loud. “I still wanna do everything with you. I’d walk through hell if I got to do it with you.”
Don’t cry. Do not cry. Do not show that you’ve been waiting to hear those words since that last fight.
He wipes a tear from under your eye with a calloused thumb, expression softening.
“Well,” you clear your throat, “I guess you’re in luck since we’re going through hell right now. Burnt village. Dead families…”
“Probably gonna get thrown in the dungeons when we get to the palace,” he adds casually. “King doesn’t take too kindly to outsiders.”
“Will you still think I’m pretty when rats start nibbling on my toes?” It’s dark to joke about. But life has not been kind to you as of late, and even in the midst of all of your fear and grief, you’re finally able to crack a smile (sad as it may be), and your stomach flips the way it used to.
“I’ll still think you’re pretty when they eat your face,” he tells you, caressing your cheek. It’s so sincere that it makes you laugh.
“That’s absurd.”
“What’s absurd is that I haven’t kissed you in a god damn eternity.”
You nearly tackle him into the water, arms around his neck as he catches you with a small ‘oof’, and even though the entire top half of your body is exposed to the air, it still feels like you’re entirely submerged. Drowning in Katsuki without want for oxygen.
His lips are chapped just like yours, yet they’re the softest thing you’ve ever felt. Gentle even with hungry teeth, tender even with his greedy tongue.
The water, once cool, feels boiling, like your bodies are giving off steam. His hands grab at your ass, fingertips digging into the fat of it before he lifts you to set you on the riverbank.
You immediately lock your legs around him, like you’re scared of him suddenly disappearing, but Katsuki attaches himself to you in the form of his mouth on your skin, nipping down your neck, sucking bruises down your shoulder and collarbone.
Frantic fingers find their way between your legs, grazing the inside of your thighs before softly brushing your sensitive folds.
“Missed you so much,” Katsuki grumbles, lowering himself in order to take one of your nipples into his mouth.
You hold his head tightly, pulling him further into you. “I missed you too, Kat. So much.”
The first finger sinks into your heat, making you whimper in satisfaction. Katsuki continues to suck on your hardened bud, swirling his tongue around it to distract you from the stretch of his second finger and the slight burn that comes with it.
“Fuck,” you gasp.
“I know, I know, I got you.” He uses a thumb to massage your clit, your legs trembling as your body begins to open up for him. “Can’t wait to feel your cunt again.”
“I’m ready,” you tell him. “I want you, please…”
“Not yet, sweetheart. I want you dripping’ before I give you my cock.”
You whine, thighs flexing around his waist. You aren’t giving him much room to work with, but you can’t stand the thought of letting him go. His hand is pressed tightly against you, fingers so deep in your pussy as he pumps and curls them. He finds your spot as if he had just touched you yesterday, always so good at reading you, and kisses your throat when you throw your head back.
He abuses the spongy tissue until you’re leaking into the water below, moaning his name and pulling his hair.
“Please, please, need you, Kat.”
He chuckles, an almost condescending, “shh shh, baby. It’s okay.”
He lines himself up and pushes in slowly—so slowly—his thick cock spreading your gummy walls. He feels impossibly large after so long apart, his tip alone stretching your entrance thin so that you scrunch your eyes shut.
“Feel so good already,” Katsuki groans. He pushes his hips forward, and even through the burn your body sucks him in further, begging for more.
“Takin’ me so well, fuck…”
Once he’s bottomed out, Katsuki stays still for several seconds, and your cunt clenches around him automatically, still trying to adjust to his size.
A slow rhythm to start, steady thrusts that drag along your walls and gently slide over your most sensitive spot. Moans stay caught in your throat, mouth open, and you know that as soon as you start making noise you won’t be able to stop.
Katsuki begins moving his hips faster, making the water splash around you on the bank. The chill of it is a stark contrast from the heat of Katsuki’s body and the affectionate burn in your chest.
His strong hands wrap around your head, holding you as he kisses you fiercely. His rhythm stutters, but his lips move against yours perfectly, forming the words, “I love you,” so desperately that it makes you ache. “I love you, I love you. I never stopped.”
“I love you too,” you breathe heavily into him, muscles tightening with every pointed thrust. Your sticky slickness drips out of you, making the slide of his cock effortless. He feels so good, so deep inside you the way he’s supposed to be. Always supposed to be.
“Squeezin’ me so sweet,” he croons, jaw dropping open as he loses himself in sensation. “Always so sweet to me…”
The feeling of his fingers on your clit again is enough to send you over the edge, your nails digging semi-circles into his back as you cry his name loud enough to echo in the emptiness around you.
The rhythmic pulsing of your orgasm milks the cum from Katsuki’s cock, the warmth of it coating your insides, filling you to the brim. He gasps with every thick string he shoots into you until he’s finally dry.
You let him rest his head on your shoulder for some time, giving you both a chance to catch your breath before you pull him out of the water and topple over into the grass.
The sun is setting, the sky painted orange and pink in the afterglow of yet another day. You admire the way it shines over the treetops, the rays of it bathing you in such a comforting way. Everything will be okay, you think. We can survive as long as we’re together.
“Guess I should go find us some food,” Katsuki eventually muses, adding a smirking, “gotta make sure my woman stays fed.”
You roll your eyes and give him a light shove. “Your woman can feed herself, thank you very much.”
“Don’t I know it,” he grins, wiggling his eyebrows. “Never seen you so cock-hungry.”
“Oh my gods, Katsuki!”
“I’m just sayin’!” he laughs. More like cackles.
Your glare holds no weight, but you still suck your teeth at him and mumble, “think I’d prefer the rats over this.”
“Won’t be nearly as filling as—”
You cut him off by rolling on top of him and covering his mouth with yours. “Stop talking.”
He hums, settling his hands on the small of your back. “Only if you keep doin’ this.”
“I will if you keep your promise to marry me.”
“Second I can, I will.”
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2023©️shdo-xplosion. please do not plagiarize, alter, or repost my work to any other platforms.
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hoedamn-eron · 3 months
Text
lava rolls & caf in the mornings
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Poe Dameron is a persistent bastard.
Warnings: Poe is bisexual (Taslet is a pilot in Blue Squadron). Themes of slut-shaming. Mentions of one night stands and sex. Worries of unrequited love. Mentions of fears of commitment. Small mention of parent death (both Poe and Reader). Some swearing. Lots of dialogue. Not proofread so there will be mistakes. It didn't go how I planned it, but I hope it's okay anyway! Word count: 3,821 GN!Reader, no use of Y/N.
From this request by anon. I apologise if this isn't what you expected!
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The first time you had seen Poe Dameron was on a recruitment poster for the Resistance.
Your first impression was to scoff and comment on what a pretty boy he was, that the Resistance must really be struggling to get members if they’ve resorted to posters. But wherever you went, you couldn’t seem to escape them, and your eyes always wandered over the serious looking face of Poe Dameron, looking into the distance with those piercing eyes of his.
And the next thing you knew, you were signing up to join and you were shipped off to their base on D’Qar.
Thanks to your father (“You need a true skill to get yourself by.”), you were good with ships; not flying but fixing. You were immediately assigned to the mechanics, and you were soon tossed into the hustle and bustle of the day-to-day life of a Resistance member.
It was hard at first; you felt like you didn’t fit in. You tried to be friendly, really, but you weren’t there to make friends, you were there to win a war. You understand that companionship was one of the most important things in the Resistance (you needed to trust your team, and your team needed to trust you), but to the top dogs of the Resistance, you were just a mere mechanic that was there to fix their ships after a mission.
All of that changed when you actually met Poe.
He’d practically crashed his X-Wing on the tarmac and climbed out without a scratch on him, like it was no big deal. He was even smiling as the other Resistance members rushed over, expecting him to be half dead, and he even had the gall to ask, “Where’s the fire?”
“Your ship,” you’d replied, running over to help put said fire out.
“Ah,” he’d said, shrugging. “It’s just a scratch, it’ll buff right out.”
It did not, in fact, ‘buff right out’, and you knew this personally because you were the one assigned to help fix his ship.
And you say ‘help’, because Poe Dameron is a stubborn bastard, and likes things done his way, so he was constantly over your shoulder as you tried to fix his ship, but you both just ended up compromising, and he joined you. Once he’d cleaned up after his crash landing, you realised that he was as handsome as his posters, but he wasn’t as conceited as you thought he would be. Of course, he knew how good looking he was, but he was at least humble about it.
That’s how your friendship started.
He’d talked to you about your home planet, and he told you about his. You both – oddly – bonded over the deaths of your mothers. Where yours was but a few years ago, long after you were an adult, your heart broke for him when he revealed he was only 8 when his mother passed away. He’d told you that she was one of the reasons he loved flying so much.
Your friendship only grew more as he went out on more missions and requested for you to help fix his ship. Then it turned into inviting you out for drinks with him and his squad, then dinner together after a hard day working, and offers of going off world, to ‘check out that market’ that you’d heard so much about, and as they say; the rest was history.
You weren’t sure when you’d fallen in love with him. It had slowly grown within you, like a flower blooming in the springtime; its roots weaved through your heart, seeking sustenance from every moment that you shared together. At first, it was subtle, like a faint whisper in the wind, barely noticeable, but you knew you felt…something. You put it down to kinship – he was your first friend in the Resistance and had taken you under his wing with no judgement. But you soon realised it was more than that.
You found yourself seeking him out, wanting to spend time with him. His laughter became the melody to which your heart danced, and his smile the sun that warmed your entire being. As days turned into nights and seasons changed, the love you felt for him deepened. Each day brought new discoveries, new reasons to cherish him. Love, it seemed, had quietly taken root and flourished, transforming your world in ways you could have never imagined, never imagined for yourself.
But then…he asked out that new pilot on Blue Squad, Taslet.
Then Tracey from droid repair.
Then that Twi’lek girl from the medbay…her name escapes you.
And you’ve come to realise that Poe Dameron would never settle down. He was too much of a free spirit or something of that kind. It hurt, to know that you would never really be together, but you would rather have him as a friend than nothing at all.
And over your dead body Poe would ever find out about your feelings for him.
You’d been in the Resistance for two years now, and you have only grown closer to Poe, and gained more friendships with his squad. And you love him, you’ve established that, but you’re about to punch your best friend in the face.
“I said no, Poe,” you say to him.
“Come on,” he replied, giving an overexaggerated groan. “You haven’t dated a single person since coming here – “
“It’s almost as if I came here for a different reason other than dating around,” you say, rolling your eyes as you stomp your way into the hangar, where Poe had obviously put some damage to his ship, again, and now you had to fix it.
This time, it was just a paint job.
Poe whines your name. “Come on, let me set you up.”
“I’m not interested, Poe,” you say, giving him a laugh as you reach his X-Wing. “Besides, I don’t even think anyone here is remotely concerned in dating me.”
He pauses for a moment as you climb onto his wing, focusing your attention on the deep scratches that were left there by Maker knows what. You frown at them, knowing that there’s some matching X-Wing paint somewhere on base, when Poe’s next words throw you.
“I might know someone.”
Your eyes meet his, a mixture of disbelief and curiosity on your face. You merely raise an eyebrow at him.
He gives you a dopey smile. “I might be interested.”
“’Might’ be?” you ask him, your eyebrow still raised.
“Okay, I am definitely interested.”
Your eyes widen a little, your body tensing. He said it so casually. How is he not sweating? The thought of you admitting your feelings to him sets you on edge all the time, and you have to go to a quiet place to calm down. Yet here he was, just…just telling you.
“You’re not serious,” you say, giving a nervous laugh. You’re giving him the opportunity to take it back, to say he’s joking.
He’s not. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be? You’re good looking, you’re great to talk to, I trust you with my life, and my ship. You’re great with BB, why wouldn’t I want to date you?”
You snort in amusement. “You’re just saying all’a this – “
“No, I want to date you. Let me take you out.”
You look at him in disbelief, that smug grin on his face as he just…stands there, looking at you with his hands on his hips, as if he’d just told you how his day went.
You give a small laugh. “No.”
That wiped the grin off his face.
“Why not?” he asked, his brow furrowing, showing off that cute little crease between his eyebrows that you’d imagined yourself kissing away a million times.
You couldn’t answer that. It’s not because you didn’t know why, it’s because the reason might change your friendship forever. He was just teasing you, trying to make you feel better about ‘not dating anyone’. So you tell him so, that he’s just saying that because he’s just put his foot in it.
Poe shakes his head. “No, no, that’s not true – “
“You’ve literally been with every unavailable person on base, Poe,” you tell him.
“Be reasonable,” Poe said, giving you a look. “It’s not every available person.”
“It’s enough,” you say, giving him a grin. You hop down from his X-Wing, standing in front of him. “I think you’re a great guy, Poe, but you’re just…I wouldn’t date you.”
He looks at you still, with a determined look on his face.
You take his silence as a sign to continue. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way but…but you…you’re – “
“You can call me a slut, it’s okay,” he says, grinning at you.
You shake your head immediately, reaching to run your hands through your hair in frustration, lightly gripping at your roots. “No, Poe, that’s not what I’m saying – “
“Then just spit it out,” he says, almost laughing in frustration. “It’s me.”
You sigh and drop your arms, before averting your gaze. “You’re not a relationship kind of guy. You date a lot and fuck around a lot, and that’s okay…for you. But that’s not…I don’t want that.”
Poe goes quiet as he studies you. He doesn’t say anything as you finally looked back at him, your cheeks warm and you shift uneasily from one foot to the other under his scrutinising gaze. His eyes, like pools of warm caramel, seem to pierce through you, as though probing into areas of thoughts you've long kept long hidden from him, and the world. A faint flicker of amusement dances at the corners of his lips, hinting at the secrets he might already have unravelled from you, and the look on your face. The silence between you stretches as the weight of his gaze continues to bear down on you.
You find yourself feeling self-conscious, as though you’ve been laid bare before him.
“I can be a ‘relationship kind of guy’,” he says, the corners of his lips twitching again in mirth. “For you.”
“Stop,” you say, shaking your head as you turn away from him, suddenly desperate to find that paint for his X-Wing.
“No, I won’t,” he said, having no problem keeping up with you, even when you sped up. “You won’t date me because…I’ve slept with a few people?”
“I just want something serious, Poe,” you say, sighing as you stop and turn around to look at him. “Like I said, it’s okay that you’re not. You can sleep with whoever you want. We’re in the middle of a war, there’s no room for relationships, right?”
Poe looks at you with an uneasy look on his face. “I’m trying really hard not to be insulted here.”
“No, this isn’t…” you heave a heavy sigh and rub your hands over your face. You feel stressed. This isn’t how you imagined your day going. It was supposed to be a slow day, there were no missions, no supply runs, where you could get on with the small repairs you’d been putting off.
But no. Poe had to try and convince you to go out on a date. With him.
“I’m not bothered that you’ve…that…to put it nicely, that you’ve fucked around, okay?” you ask. “I know you. I know you’re safe and use protection, you’re not an idiot. I get it. Commitment just isn’t your thing.”
You’re met with silence again. He’s just staring at you; the crease in between his eyebrows is back again. You both stand there for so long that you look around nervously, about to tell him that you’re going to find the paint for his X-Wing but he cuts you off before you could get another word in.
“I’m going to change your mind.”
You blink at him, your mouth falling open a bit. You weren’t expecting that.
“It’s nice that you don’t judge me for having sex. And I have had a lot of sex,” said Poe, grinning dopily at you. “But I’m going to prove to you that I can be serious. I can be serious with you.”
You shake your head, knowing that he won’t last as long as he thinks he will, before turning away from him. “We’ll see. Now help me find the paint for your X-Wing.”
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Poe is persistent.
He’d greeted you at your door every day with a cup of caf, a lava roll, and a big smile, BB-8 usually spinning around at his feet, beeping at you happily. You’d walk together to the hangar, where you would share the lava roll.
He’d invite you to have lunch with him, where he’d ask you about your day so far, and you would tell him about the repairs you’d been assigned with that day.
At the end of the day, he’d walk you back to your quarters, where he would ask you out for dinner, as a date.
And you said no. Every time.
He would just grin at you and tell you he’d see you tomorrow.
Where he started the cycle again.
After the third week, you took a seat with Finn and Rey in the cantina for lunch – the first one without Poe since he was with the General for a mission debrief.
“Hi guys,” you greet them, placing your tray of food down as you sit opposite Finn. You tucked in immediately; you were starving.
“How’re you doing?” Rey asked you, a kind smile on her lips.
“Can’t complain,” you reply, shrugging. “You?”
“Not so bad,” she replied.
“You dating Poe yet?” Finn asked you.
You chuckled as you continued to eat your food. “Nope.”
“C’mon, put the guy out of his misery,” Finn said, smirking at you.
“Poe is fine,” you say, shaking your head and rolling your eyes, giving Finn a good-natured grin. “Stay out of it.”
“It’s sad,” teased Finn. “All he does is pout about how you won’t go out with him.”
“He’s doing it to prove a point,” you say. “He’s not serious.”
“Who’s not serious?” a voice asks behind you, and the three of you look up to see Jess and Karé joining you.
Rey told them how you were talking about you not accepting Poe’s offers of a date.
“You’re already dating him,” Jess said causally, taking a seat next to you as Karé sits opposite her and next to Rey.
You snort in amusement. “No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are,” she said, giving you a pointed look. “He comes to get you every morning and you have lunch every day. That’s dating.”
“No, we did that all the time before,” you say. “We’re friends.”
“But you want more, right?” Karé asks, giving you a pointed look. “Because we’ve all seen how you look at Poe. It’s like he hung the stars.”
Your mouth falls open. “N-no! No, you’re wrong. He’s just…we’re just…”
“I don’t know why you’re so weird about it, he feels the same way,” Karé said, casually eating her food.
Your heart races as at her admission, and your stomach fluttering with nervous anticipation. Your mind reels, grappling with disbelief. You find yourself questioning the authenticity of Karé’s words. She was just saying that. That’s the silliest thing you’ve ever heard. Poe doesn’t like you like that.
Does he?
It's too good to be true, isn't it? You've dreamt about this moment countless times in your time here, but now that it's supposedly happening, scepticism creeps in like a dark shadow, almost like a plague on your self-esteem. You feel all your insecurities come rushing to the surface, because your friends surely are only making you feel better about your unrequited feelings for Poe.
The thought of allowing yourself to believe it feels like stepping onto thin ice, afraid of it cracking beneath your feet. You've built up walls to protect yourself from disappointment, and now someone is asking you to tear them down based on a mere observation, from word of mouth. You don’t believe it.
“No he doesn’t,” you say finally.
“Honey,” Jess says, giving you a grin. “He’s been trying to get you to agree that you’re dating for weeks.”
“We’re not – “
“Stop, please, you’re giving us all a migraine,” Karé said, almost annoyed. “We all know you’re worried about his reputation, but why should it matter? He’s a good guy who enjoys intimacy, there’s nothing wrong with it. It’s still the same Poe.”
“I don’t have a problem with it, it’s just…” you go quiet before sighing, then lean in. “What if, after a while, he realises I’m not what he wants? What if I’m too serious for him? Because I don’t date around.”
“You don’t think Poe will want to be in a relationship?” Rey asks, raising an eyebrow at you.
You nod. “I’ve talked about this with Poe, but he’s determined to prove me wrong.”
Your friends look at you silently, before Jess eventually shrugs at you.
“So let him.”
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“Hey,” you call up to Poe, who was messing with the control panel of his X-Wing.
He looks at you at the sound of your voice before giving you a thousand-watt smile. “Hey there.”
“Can we talk? Please?” you ask.
Poe’s brow furrows in confusion but he wastes no time in climbing out of his X-Wing and standing in front of you, his look of confusion slowly melting into one of concern as he asks you what’s happened.
You’d been thinking about Karé’s words all day, and how your other friends hadn’t denied it. In fact, they seemed to agree. And after thinking about it…maybe they were right.
Maybe it's the way Poe smiles when he sees you, or the genuine warmth in his eyes when you talk. Perhaps it's the way he goes out of his way to spend time with you, or the way he laughs at your terrible jokes a little too eagerly. You had always thought he was just being friendly, but he…he didn’t act like that around the other who he’d slept with.
You’d started to entertain the possibility that maybe, just maybe, Karé was right all along. Maybe Poe did like you in the same way as you do with him. And in that moment of acceptance, a surge of exhilaration had coursed through your veins, and you suddenly found yourself in the hangar.
You refuse to let fear or doubt hold you back any longer.
“Okay,” you say, taking a breath as you look at him. “So this…this is going to be long so just…just stay with me please.”
Poe nodded. “Okay.” He places his hands on his hips as he looks at you.
Oh God, why does he always have to look so good. It wasn’t fair that the Maker made this man into a perfect specimen. A caring, wonderful, funny specimen.
“I just want you to know that I love you.”
Poe slowly smiles at you. “I love you too.”
“No, no,” you say, giving him a firm look. “I love you.”
He falters, his smile fading a little as he stared at you.
Your heart stops.
Oh, shit, everyone was wrong.
You start scrambling.
“I’m sorry to throw this on you,” you say quickly, trying to correct your mistake. “It’s just that you’ve been trying to get me to go on a date with you for weeks and I just thought it was for fun, you know? That it was a bit, but then I thought that maybe it wasn’t, that you were serious, that you actually want to take me out on a date – “
He interrupts you by calling your name, but you don’t hear him over your babbling.
“ – and I really want to go out with you, like so much, and I know I was a dumbass and thought that you couldn’t be sincere, since you…well, you know why, and I’m sorry that it came across as me being judgemental, because I was, a little bit – “
He tries to interrupt you again with your name.
“ – but I was an idiot and I’m sorry, I’m sorry for saying you couldn’t be serious enough for a relationship, I’m sorry for stringing you along for the last few weeks, it’s not fair on you, I should be more considerate to your feelings – “
He shouts your name, causing you to jump at the sudden volume. You look at him with wide eyes, breathless after your rant. You both stare at each other for a moment, and you can feel the panic claw at your throat at the unreadable look on his face. You can always know what Poe is feeling, what Poe is thinking, and it’s unnerving to know that you don’t know what’s going to happen.
Eventually, he reaches out to you, and holds you by your upper arms. “What’s brought this one?”
“Karé told me you like me,” you say quickly. “In a like-like way.”
Poe looked at you for a moment before he broke into a grin and started chuckling to himself.
Now you look confused.
“You are a dumbass,” he says, still laughing.
You couldn’t help but laugh with him. “I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologising. Listen,” Poe says, giving a dramatic sigh as his hands slides down your arms and hold your hands. “I’m not going to lie, it did hurt when you said you wouldn’t date me because I’d…slept around. I understand, though, that it can be a little much.”
You bite your lip nervously before looking at the floor, shamefully.
“Hey, no, don’t look away,” said Poe, before grinning when you look back up at him. “I want you to know that you mean the world to me. And more. And I love you too.”
You give him a slow, dopey smile.
“And although you’ve been ‘stringing me along’ for a weeks,” he says, giving you a teasing look, causing you to giggle. He gives your hands a squeeze. “I still love you and want to date you. Now, will you go out on a date with me?”
You grin excitedly before nodding. “Yes, I will go out on a date with you.”
“Finally!” said Poe, grinning at you. “I was starting to lose faith in myself!”
“I just don’t want to miss out having a lava roll first thing, they’re always the first to go,” you say teasingly, pulling him towards you as you wrap your arms around his waist.
He immediately slid his arms around you too.
It felt food. Natural. Like you were meant to be doing this the whole time.
“Oh so you don’t want me to be with you for love, you just want me to bring you lava rolls and caf every morning,” Poe teases back.
You grin and nod. “Mhm.”
“Now I know where I stand.”
“Bet all your other partners will be upset they’ll never get lava rolls and caf.”
“They never got them anyway.”
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sunofpandora · 5 months
Text
Authors note:
AYEEEE CHAPTER TWO
Wow! I was not expecting all the kind comments and the taglist requests from chapter 1. I’m genuinely in shock, still. The comments and reposts got me teary eyed. 
                                                                   V I R A G O            
Word count: 6k       
Chapter 2
The son sun made of stone  
words.
𝓭𝓮𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓵𝓼/𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼/𝓼𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼/
‘Y/n was made of fire. Oh, a goddess girl with lips of lightning and a caged Phoenix under her skin. Neteyam is just the ashes and remains of the heavens she crushed under her heel.’
General Warnings: na’vi reader/ reader is a war orphan/ as always, spider, the reader, and Lo’ak are a trio/ Lo’ak and Reader being platonic soulmates?/ Spider and Reader being trauma twins/ Neteyam being lovesic/ Neteyam being nervous and shy around reader/ Neytiri being mother/ Jake being the husband i wish i had/ Tuk being a little sister and looking up to y/n/ Mentions of grace’s school./ reader fell first but Neteyam fell way harder/ sun x moon relationship 
Chapter 2 warnings: jealous neteyam/ mentions or anxiousness/ mentions of war and death/flirting/ mentions of dead animals/ mentions of grief and injuries/
Extra info:
Y/n is one year younger than neteyam, she is 18 and he is 19.
Lo’ak is 18 and Kiri is also 19. Tuk is 7-8 and spider is 19.
Extra characters: 
Ka’lik (y/ns father. A deceased warrior of the Omaticaya clan)
Zensira (y/n’s mother. deceased best singer and head songstress of the Omaticaya clan)
Makeyo (a warrior of the omaticaya clan. The same age as neteyam and went through iknimiya the same day as well. A filthy simp for y/n)
Kailo (Y/n’s ikran. Your ikran is a male ya’ll. sorry.)
Popiti (tuk’s best friend according to the visual dictionary)
Chapter two synopsis:
Neteyam comes to return y/n’s bracelet and has some internal conflict about his feelings towards her. Makeyo attempts to make a move on y/n and Neteyam experiences a different type of burning in his heart.
Neteyams Pov (trying something new by writing from neteyams pov as a little experiment. Lemme know how yall like it.)
☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆
“Neteyam”
For a moment the sound of my name leaving her lips in a breath is almost enough to forget myself and drop to my knees. 
The tuft of my tail thwacks the back of my head gently and i force my heartbeat to endure boundaries.
 I clear my throat, finding the words.
My eyes fan over her figure.
The moonlight contours the crevices of her curves. Her eyes, an amorous gold, spark themselves luminous. Almost Neon in the darkness of night. 
There's a bandage around her torso, and one around her left bicep. Her skin smells of grandmother's salves and wooden bowls.
It’s funny how fast the memories flood back. 
There was a time before she was made of fire.
Well, actually, I don't think that’s a fair statement.
There was always a spark. Always that small flicker refusing to perish even in strong winds.
I have memories of playing in the stream with my siblings and Y/n, and occasionally spider.  
She’d chase me. Her feet assaulted the shin deep water with the harsh sloshing of her feet. She tackled me and pulled on my tail. The sunburst air is sweet like nectar against our glistening skin and shrieks of laughter and springtime memories. 
Her laughter challenges the brightness of the sugared sun rays that danced through the canopy, it shakes the stars with its loud singing.
The scattered droplets of water seize on her skin as she chases lo’ak, carrying a smaller spider on her back.
Now she stands before me. Taller, stronger, a warrior in all its forms. 
I clear my throat once again, my eyes flickering over her body.
“How are you? Grandmother was able to treat you?”
She nods, leaning lightly against the wooden entrance frame of the marui.
“The wounds could have been worse. Mo’at was able to clean up the wounds just fine. Tsahik suggested i rest here for the night..’
She trials off, clicking her tongue as she gently taps her finger against the bandage.
The dwindling echoes of our breaths gently keep the silence afloat.
My eyes flicker up when her voice catches my ears.
“You? Any injuries?”
I shrug. “A few scratches. Nothing Serious. Lo’ak has a small bruise on his head but he’ll be fine. Mother treated us earlier.”
Something somber in her irises flickers. It’s small, but its not quiet. I open my mouth to speak but like most other things between us, she beats me to it.
“Why did you fly down there today? You could have been killed.”
There’s a hiss at the endnotes of her voice. And I don't blame her for being pissed. Not for a second.
I frown, I can feel my tail thump lightly against the ground.
“Lo’ak flew his way down there first. I wet after him.”
My confession trails a veil of blankness behind it that lingers in the air. She shakes her head, staring down.
“It’s not a thing of fault. I should have been more responsible. Im the older brother, after all-”
“Bullshit.”
The suddenness of her words make me pause. It wasn’t unexpected, but it seems a bit more vague than usual. Even for her.
“Y/n i-”
“No. No, Neteyam this has to come to an end. You can’t keep taking the fall for him. How many times will you let yourself fall off a cliff before you learn not to justify the one who pushed you off the ledge?”
I’m quiet for a moment. I feel another frown etch itself onto my lips.
“I must hold myself accountable as well. I am the future leader of this clan. If i cannot even keep my siblings out of trouble, how will I protect my people?” 
I’m sure loak had told her of the scolding we received from my father.
She takes a step closer, the fire in her gaze challenges all it sees. My heartbeat speeds up its sympathy.
“Then who protects you, Neteyam?”
I’m still for a moment. My throat hitches quietly and my words come up short.
She takes a breath and shifts herself back a bit, rubbing two fingers to her temple.
Her eyes creased with exhaust. I can tell the day has drained her.
“I’m sorry. I spoke out of line.”
“You never have to apologize to me.”
I can tell it surprises her a bit. How fast my words chased after her own.
My hesitation creeps its way through the blanket of gray that treads along the silence.
I clear my throat once again, averting my gaze.
“I’m glad you returned safely. I was worried sick.”
She chuckles and gently flips the small spiral in her hand.
“Had my lucky charm on my bow today. I guess i have you to thank.”
I cannot help but feel an ache every time I see that damned spiral. Iv’e tormented myself with an object so small it's pathetic. Really. A substitution for the words i couldn't speak.
I force a smile, a gentle chuckle to follow along.
“Well. I see its made some sort of use.”
She nods and places it gently back into the pocket of her loincloth.
I find myself doing the same, fishing around my own pocket until i hear the small clatter of beads.
Ihold her bracelet out to her.
“Here. You lost this today.”
She gasps softly. My heart beckons for my unspoken yearning whenever i saw her eyes light up like that. And fuck, I curse myself for looking away.
She placed it back on her wrist.
“Thank you, Neteyam. I would have been looking for days.”
When her fingers brush my palm a new wave of sun-streaked warmth swallows my chest in the pale moonlight.
“You don’t have to thank me.”
I would do anything for you.
She chuckles softly and I swear I feel my knees buckle at the sound.
All I can do is stare at her for a moment. My eyes tracing her curves and imagine it’s my fingertips, kissing my small apologies onto her skin.
The small breeze wisps at the small loose hairs that edged at her forehead, scattered out of her braids. Her scent is sweet. Her eyes are wondrously doe-like. 
I wish i could pocket the sounds of her laughter. I wish i could reach for her and brush her skin against mine if it meant even a second of her warmth is relished in. 
I want her. All of her. I want her fire even if it burns me. I want her wild high-tide seas even if they drown me. I want her heart even if I must beg for it. I want her lips, and her hands. I want every rough edge and every smooth surface.
It finds a way to bind me in its threshold of longing before I even register what I've done.
My hand reaches out. The planes in the lines of my palm rest against her cheek and the pad of my thumb rubs small circles on the small temple of a space in front of her ear.
I’d forget I ever existed if it was convenient for her.
There was a time I pretended she didn’t exist. Where fear and thought collided with my panic.
Years ago. After I gave her that spiral.
I made her mere presence become a voidance in my life. A small patch of blankness that traced her shape.
There’s a reason this void stands between us. I hurt her. And I will never forgive myself for it.
I was afraid. I was afraid of what my feelings would do to me. Of what it would do to the future olo’eyktan of this clan. I feared distraction. I feared devotion. And now i yearn for it. Call it a punishment, call it karma or something more. All I know is that I pushed her away. It of my arms, out of my circle, and I thought giving her that spiral would fix my mistakes.
It hurts me. The look in her eyes when I avoided her around the village. The way her gaze chased after me when i walked away
I was 15, afraid and stupid. I still haven’t forgiven myself from keeping her out of my circle.
Now I stand before her. This woman I may never deserve. This beautiful woman who will forever hold my heart in her hands.
She stares at me. But it's full of a sour memory that resonates on the edge of her tongue.
“Neteyam..”
There it is. How she says my name.
Fuck.
Fuck, why did I ever think, even for a mere moment my heart wasn’t hers?
Say it again.
Say it again,y/n please i beg you.
But I don't dare say it aloud.
Instead I whisper to her, my thumb stopping its movements for a moment as i cradle her head.
“Y/n, yawne. I am so, so sorry I didn't protect you today. I couldn't bare the thought of you in danger. “
She pushes my hand away, and for a moment the moonlight feels bitter.
“I don’t need your protection.”
It’s not that I think I don't deserve that.
But is it wrong for it to still ache?
“Y/n. please-”
“It is late, neteyam. I wish to rest now. Please.”
Theres a small tremble in the endnotes of her voice.
And i want to strangle the one who caused her this.
But what more can i do when i caused it myself?
I take a step back, gently bowing my head.
My eyes linger on her for a moment longer.
“Good night, Y/n.”
“Good night, Neteyam.”
As the tent flap closes, I take a step back. Staring up at the moon through the large crevices that topped the mountain of highcamp.
Maybe she doesn't belong in my arms.
I ache for her at night. I dream of holding her. I beg for the figment of her not to feebly collapse into  stardust and watch her wither out of my grasp. Her arrow aims at my heart and I tell her of my heartache.
She says nothing as I’m on my knees for her. Her glare is a cryptic mockery. She weakens me. Every moment of this fleeting moment within my reverie is a punishment. The morning sunset is bitter and the sky feels skeletal. 
To her my devotion is a joke and all I can think of is how fucking beautiful she is when she laughs.
I had a dream once that I kissed her. I kissed her until I couldn’t breathe. She tasted dark and delicate. 
I am hers. I was always hers. 
I’d let her ruin me.
Unravel every piece of me and stitch back together what left is salvaged of those small fragments and watch as they spell out her name.
Y/n.
Y/n.
Y/n.
Y/n.
☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ 
☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ 
The next morning was calmer than yesterday to say the least.
Lo’ak went with my father to hunt.
Kiri went with my grandmother to help in the Tsahik tent.
Y/n was off with her own duties, and that left me to help my mother in our family's marui.
Oh yeah, did I mention Tuk?
It wasn’t abnormal that I often found myself conversing with Tuk.
She sits in with her smaller legs tucked under her body. Her hands are much like mine and my mothers, but small and juvenile. They lack gracefulness as they scramble with my braids, slipping the beads she made all by herself (Kiri helped) into my braids. She giggles when I tell her about my hunts. She smacks my forehead with her palm when I tilt my head the wrong way. She climbs over me in all sorts of odd ways while I wince every now and then at the occasional stepping on of my tail.
“Teyam. Stop looking down!”
Tuktirey huffs and my head snaps up, all my attention shifting to my youngest sibling.
“Ah. sorry tuk-tuk.”
She sighs dramatically and continues stringing the beads into my hair.
I smile at my youngest sister. I was close with Tuk. me and her being the only two children out of my siblings that closely resembled my mother’s na’vi features. I don’t credit myself completely. I don’t think it's fair to say that my mother and fathers genes are divided narrowly. Lo’ak my have my fathers appearance but he wields my mothers rebelliousness with pride. Her survival instincts. Her thrill for a chase. Her fire and her wind. Grandmother always found herself amused whenever my mother found herself annoyed with Lo’aks antics. Apparently my mother was no different when she was his age. Chasing rainstorms and dancing through fire. Grandmother always says lo’ak is my mothers shadow.
Me, on the other hand? i've always strived to be like my father. I still do. I remember sitting around a fire as a small child, listening to stories of his days of battle and heroicness. I don’t glorify my father as much as I did then. But he’s still the same man to me, all the same.
Tuk is in the middle of rambling about her morning gossip she gathered from Popiti, as she strings another bead onto my braids.
It's a bit of a guilty pleasure, I suppose. Being entertained by other’s conflicts.  Certainly not proper behavior for the eldest son of toruk makto. Alas, what kind of big brother would I be if I didn't let Tuk carry herself away with her words without worry?
I can’t hide that I enjoy it. But telling myself its for tuk helps a bit.
“And then what?” I query Tuk softly, urging her to continue her story.
She giggles before placing a green colored bead on my braids.
“Well, Popiti’s big sister, Kyuna, didn’t take Takuk’s courting gift!”
I gasp, over-exaggerating my shock to amuse my younger sister, she nods, equally as shocked.
“I know, right!?”
I shake my head, feining disappointment as Tuk giggles.
“My eywa. Poor Takuk.”
Tuk nods, patting down my braids gently.
I try to look over to my right side at where she sat without turning my head.
“Did she say why?”
Tuk shrugged.
“Popiti heard her mom and Kyuna talking. Kyuna said that she didnt want Takuk for a mate.”
I nod, fidgeting with my beaded choker.
“Huh. Well then, good for Kyuna. She knows what she wants, i guess.”
I trail off with my own internal theories.
I knew Kyuna. She was a young healer in the clan. I didn’t care for her much. She was a bit cocky. Always had some excuse for getting out of tasks she didn’t feel like completing.
I also knew Takuk.
I had been in hunting groups with him. We went through iknimaya training together. He was smart. A fine huner. A decent provider. He seemed like a fine mate for anyone. 
Tuk suddenly gasped, her ears twitching as she stared up at me with her big eyes.
“Teyam! You could be Kyuna’s mate!”
I still at her revelation, she blinks at me with baited breath for  response.
I cant help but chuckle as i ruffle the smaller girl’s braids.
“It's a kind offer, Tuk. But I'm not ready to mate yet. Remember what I told father?” 
Who could forget? The most awkward family dinner in the world where i pleaded with my father to give me more time before I choose a mate. My siblings watching as me and my father bickered for a good hour. I think its really the only time iv’e stood up to him. Disagreed with him. My father has been patient since then when it comes to finding my tsahik. But the only reason he is because of my mother finally convinced him to give it a rest.
Finding a mate can be a long process for some.
I already knew who i wanted my mate to be. There wasn’t any debate. And I will wait for her. I will wait to earn her trust back. For as long as it takes. I will be hers for when shes ready. I am hers even when she’s not. That is a promise I refuse to break.
Tuk huffs.
“But whyyyy? Kyuna is pretty. Not as pretty as mama or kiri or y/n-
But she’s not mated.”
I sigh and gently rub Tuk’s back.
“You’ll understand when you’re older. I promise.”
She huffs again but nods, going back to braiding my hair.
Shes in the middle of telling me about the big fish she caught when my father took her to the creek the other day when my mother enters the tent, a basket of fruits under her arm.
I straighten up a bit and Tuk gasps happily, standing to her feet and jogging over to my mother.
“Mama! You’re back!”
She hugs my mothers waist, and my mother places a hand on tuks head while trying to balance the basket filled to the brim with yovo fruits.
I stand up, gently taking the basket from under her arm, chuckling softly.
“Here, Sa’nok. (mother) Let me take that for you.”
She sighs in releif, nodding at me, now fully embracing tuk with two free arms.
“Irayo (thank you) Neteyam.”
Tuk sits back down in her previous spot and i carry the basket to the small wooden table, placing it down.
“Nice haul today?”
She smiles at me. “The new grove has almost completed its growth cycle. It's almost time for a new harvest.”
I nod, making a mental reminder to tell my father that later so he can organize more foraging groups. 
“Mama, look at how pretty Neteyam is.”
My mother gently examines my newly beaded braids with her fingers, gently taking each braid between her thumb and her palm.
“Very good work, tuktirey. You should help me do mine later. Why don’t you go to your grandmothers tent, hm? I left a large bowl of new beads on the far side corner, near her salve pouch.
Her eyes sparkle and before my mother can say another word, Tuk is racing out of the tent flap.
I laugh along with my mother, and she sits, starting to cut up some fruits.
“Ma’itan, could you help me with this?”
I nod, unsheathing my knife and sitting down next to her, helping her peel some fruits.
A silence fills the air for a moment, until my mothers soft, accented voice breaks through the gray.
“What troubles you, Neteyam?”
Of course she knew.
I was born from the pieces of my mothers ash-littered broken promises and my father’s guilt-ridden internal death sentence. 
My mother and i were tapestries weaved from the same colors.
I am my mother’s son.
She knew me like the back of her hand. She doesn’t have to recognize me by face. I know my father and my mother both love me. But when my mask cracks like this, my mother isn’t like my father. He tries to tighten it to ensure it doesn’t fall down again. My mother tries to mend the cracks.
I sigh, avoiding her gaze.
“Nothing Sa’nok. I am fine.”
I’m a shit liar. That’s just a known fact about me. She knows i’m lying. And maybe thats a good thing. Maybe she knows to just leave it be.
She chucks another fruit skin peel to the side as it forms a small pile with the other discadrded peels. 
“Is it because of your fathers words, yesterday? He was harsh, I know..But he is just afraid, Neteyam.”
That’s not what’s wrong, but I decide it's better than saying ‘hey ma i’m helplessly in love with a woman who probably hates my guts’
Daddy issues it is.
I nod, still avoiding her gaze.
“Yes. I know. Father just wants what's best for us.”
My mother sighs for a moment, pausing her movements, her knife ceasing its carving into the new fruit.
She looks over at me and she smiles.
There’s something about that smile. It’s like an echo that beckons your name. It’s like a face with lines scribbled over it. Sometimes when my mother looks at me I feel as if she’s seeing someone else. Flesh wrapped around the stories foretold under my bones. 
She see’s someone else’s shadow in my place. As if a ghost welcomes itselfinto the sequence of a wreckage of memories unknown to me. 
She speaks quietly.
“Your father and you are more alike than you may think, Neteyam.”
I can’t hep but smile at her words. Theres fanned flowers that grow under the gray cast of gilded clouds under the garden of her irises. She smiles too.
“I mean it, Neteyam. I see more of him in you every day, my son.”
I’m quiet for a moment, but my smile only falters slightly.
“What was he like, my father? When you first met him?”
My mother sighs, the infinite memories flickering past her eyes.
“When I first met your father, I was trying to kill him.”
I can’t help but chuckle. The story all too familiar to me from being told countless times as a child. But it’s not quite what im looking for.
“No, no- i know how you met but-
What was he like? Really?..”
My mother thinks for a moment, not sparing me a glance as she continues cutting her fruit.
“He was stupid. An idiot. I did not think he would survive a single day out here in the forest.”
I hum in agreement trying to visualize everything from her eyes.
“But he was..”
She sighs.
“He was persistent. Like a weak animal with no hope of survival. But it just refuses to die. Sometimes I thought the world moved twice as fast for him..he was eager. To learn, to live. To taste the wind and the sky..”
For a moment, I see a secondary shadow behind the  fragments of my parents love story.
My father told me he felt drawn to my mother from the first moment he saw her.
I see something else in place of the ghost behind the path of stars that led my mother to my father.
I see a man who yearns for a woman. I see a man on his knees, I see his devotion. I see his heart in his hands, i see his stained fingertips of an unfamiliar sleepless skin.
I see a woman so beautiful she might as well be a figment of the moonlight, and i’m jealous of the wind and the air and the breeze because of how easily it touches her skin.
I see her arrow aimed at his heart and the distrust in her eyes. I see her anger, and her betrayal as it echoes through a bitter blue heinous flame.
I see y/n. And I see her wall that kept me out.
I look at my mother, a shell of something that once was taking a new shape.
Was it possible? For history to rhyme?
“How..how long did it take you to love him? Even though he was an enemy.. Even though you didn;t trust him?”
My mother is silent for another moment.
She gently places her knife down, placing her hands on her thighs as she stared at the blank tented wall infront of her.
“I think it was foretold by the stars, ma’itan.
I hated him. I hated him because of what he was and where he came from. I hated his false demon body and i hated the way he walked, and talked. I hated his hair and his hands and his eyes. 
I hated him because of what his people took from me. I hated him because of the pain they caused my people..
The day I found him in the forest i was going to kill him. My arrow was aimed at his heart. But when the great mother spoke to me I knew better than not to listen.
I think i was always meant to meet him. To teach him my people’s ways..Because it led me to loving him. 
That morning when I returned from the tree of souls with him, 
My mother had told me if i choose this path, to be his mate, i could never be tsahik.
I told her, "He was my path.”
I’m still as i take in my mother’s words. But the clouds still creep behind my uncertain heartbeat.
“But hometree. And the war. How did you forgive him?”
My mother gently takes my hand in hers, and she takes a breath
“Ma’itan. You will someday learn that love is not easy. It is hungry. It is impatient. It is loud and it is often hidden.
Love gave me many gifts. You, your siblings, my home and my family.
But it has taken much from me all the same. 
Love is like swimming in the ocean at night. It's deep, it's dark, the shallows far from reach. But Within that darkness I found your father. I found my light, and someday you will find yours.”
Love is sacrificial. My mother was right. Love isnt easy. Love is sometimes caged and flightless, thick with bitter scents and tearstained starlight. Its bare, and its real, its bruised and blemished and its beautiful because its her. Its Y/n. My y/n. Her name is a hymn of scattered prayers lost to a dreaded dawn and a coppered colored sun. She’s made of every broken and perfect piece of the universe and the stars stumble over their words to describe her beauty
She’s the moon and i’m the sun. Withering myself away every night to allow her to shine. 
I will sacrifice. I will work. 
She has weakened me. The night sky canvases her skin while the bleakness of sunlight mosaics mine. Famined for her touch, I refuse to look away. I refuse to blink. The sky is a game of chance and the sunset swallows me whole. The scarlet screams in the hellish hues of cerise ablaze under her skin.
I will not settle for anything less than her.
Love is sacrificial. Then i will steal the night sky for her.
I softly smile at my mother before squeezing her hand.
“Thank you, mother.”
☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ 
(Y/n’s pov) 
Love was a funny thing.
You used to think your love for neteyam was forged from heartbeat-rhythmed nightskies and dripping orange soaked sunsets.
It was dreamlike. Bleeding through every crevice and hidden place with its incandescence. 
He was a part of you. Apart of everything you were and everything you did.
He was in your dreams when you closed your eyes at night.
He was in the shied morning sun rays that crept over the mountain tops. He was in the wild winds and draped under midnight melodies.
Its the memories of smaller things you remember most. 
Giggling while he fumbled with an arrow when he noticed you were watching him practice. 
Helping Neytiri stitch together his cummerbund to gift to him when he had completed his iknimiya. You remember the look of pride in his eyes when he wore a piece of your handiwork to represent this new chapter in his life. Concluding his training as a hunter, and becoming a warrior.
You remember taking walks with him through the forest, and the way he would hold a branch back out of your way.
You remember hunting with him, and racing him down the trailed path. 
You remember perching on a branch and watching the stars with him. You remember his warmth as he whispered to you all the constellations his father taught him. You remember his hands gently guiding yours to trace the patterns scattered among the stars.
You remember a spark.
And then, you remember a gust of wind that dulled the warmth.
Distance. You can recall distance.
It started out small.
Frequent training with his father.
Watching his siblings.
Hunting. Preparing. Working. 
His touch became something you started to crave. Not something that came granted. You remember waiting for him. Waiting for him to return from his hunt, waiting to go stargazing. Liek he promised. You remember checking the sky, the scarlet and blue collide to signify the subduing trials of daylight making its exit.
You remember your mother asking you what you were doing outside.
“Waiting.”
Is all you responded.
You didn’t tell her what you waited for.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Waiting.
He never showed up.
As the sky darkened, it started to rain.
There weren't any stars that night anyways. spider dragged you back inside. Complaining about how he wasn’t taking care of you if you got sick. 
Maybe it wasn't rain at all. Maybe the stars didn't come out that night because they were too busy falling through the cracks left in your heart.
You felt forgotten. Unloved. Unwanted.
Lo’ak told you that Jake was always on Neteyam’s ass about his training, and thats why he was so distant.
But it wasn’t just the distance.
His eyes no longer brightened when he looked at you. Its the gaze you give someone when they’re speaking to you, and you aren’t really listening. You’re just waiting for them to be done talking.
Spider watched you come home and cry one night, listened to you scream into your palms and rant angrily for hours about the boy who broke your heart.
Then, the night the sky turned red, a new kind of broken was born.
You remember hearing the whooshing of wings and panicked shrieks of stray ikrans, The unfamiliar scent of something metallic and sulfured. 
You remember running into the morning that barely crept ist light over the canopy tips, the still dark sky like a cloak encased the world.
You remember finding your mothers songcord on the ground. You remember finding her body. You remember seeing your fathers not but a few feet away.
You remember the feeling of the air being mercilessly ripped from your lungs.
You remember Jake running towards you, his own panic flooding your ears as he begged you to leave with him. That it wasn’t safe there.
He had to drag you away, holding you tight to him as you practically collapsed into his chest in the front of his ikran. 
You remember stumbling into the village upon return, Neytiri catching you in her arms and the blurred sight of her own tear stained face as she cupped your face in her hands. You screamed and cried and fell to your knees as Lo’ak rushed to your side, shushing you gently and rubbing your back.
You remember showing spider the song chord.
You think he cried harder than you did. You both lost your family that day.
You remember the hollowness in the cup of your palm as neteyam held your hand. 
You remember when he gifted you that spiral under the starlight.
You always thought he was the sun. And now you know for sure.
Forever out of your reach. Aching for the stretches of salvageable warmth blessed upon your finger tips. You could chase it to the ends of Pandora but every night it would abandon you. 
You loved him even if you didn’t know what he was.
Like the sky he was a mystery. Endless but in the midst of the universe it held many treasures he swore he kept just for you. Songs of starlight and supernovas.
You reached for nothing. Hoping to grab the sky and pull yourself into his light. Feel the sunlight on your palm and chase it like the golden hour was a game of chance. 
But now, you knew for sure he was the sun.
But he wasn’t your sun.
This sun was made of stone. It was heavy and roughed. 
The sky was no longer a mystery. The sun no longer honeyed your skin in favor. Tragedy prevailed the night sky and when his blanket of warmth tried to regain its sanctuary of safety to encase your tainted trust, all you saw was a trail of falling stars you called rain and broken promises.
☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ 
One of your tasks is to teach the younger children of the clan.
You didn’t mind it much. You often found it quite enjoyable.
You beat out most of the young warriors in your group when the clan was discussing who would train the young warriors. Only the best archer of your age group would have such a role.
It was down to you and a girl named Kyuna. She was skilled, but you were better
You chuckle as the little ones scurry past you, little shrieking giggles as they place their practice bows in a pile. 
You doubted yourself. You doubted your ability to train those younger than you.  What reasons can you give them for fighting when your own was grief?
Seeing the children and watching them learn gave you hope. Hope for a better future. 
The lessons today seemed to drag on. The thought of Neteyams words had lingered in your mind since last night. 
You sighed to yourself softly as you started to gather all the bows in a basket. Letting your thoughts run free.
“Need help with that?”
You swung yourself around, a hand instinctively resting on the top of your knife sheath, 
You found yourself face to face with a slightly taller na’vi boy. His braids to his shoulders. His smile hatched itself on baited breath, his white freckles that scattered across his face.
“Makeyo. For eywa’s sake don’t sneak up on me like that.”
He chuckled in mock surrender, throwing his hands up.
“I know better than to mess with the mighty Y/n. Don’t want to end up with an arrow in my neck.”
You roll your eyes and shoved him playfully.
Makeyo was one of your fathers students. He was a skilled archer, often competing with Neteyam. You grew closer after your parents death. Makeyo was your partner when lt came to training the younger children of the clan. Having already completed his iknimiya, and being a strong piece of the people, he was perfect for assisting you with your role.
“Great practice today, huh?”
The two of you found yourselves chatting while you walked back to the supply tent to return the arrows.
You nodded.
“Ya’here is getting better. Her form has improved.”
He smiled at you, his tail gently brushing your thigh.
“She’ll make a fine warrior one day. She always tells me she wants to be just like you?”
You try to hide the small shock that jolted through you at the sudden contact, with an awkward smile.
“Well, thats scary as shit.”
He raised a brow.
“Why?”
You shrugged.
“Knowing she wants to be just like me? I’m a wreck.”
He sighs, holding the tent flap open for you.
“Well, I think you’re perfect.”
The world seems to still for a moment, and your body feels stiff.
“You’re brave. And strong, and honorable…”
He took a step forward. 
“You’re passionate, and you care for others. Especially those kids.”
He gently places a hand on your arm, its firm, but its not demanding.
You feel your breath hitch, and your tail flicks behind you.
“Makeyo. We shouldn’t-”
“Are we intruding?”
You turn to see spider and Lo’ak.
Lo’ak glares at Makeyo, and spider marches in between the two of you, his smaller frame seemingly less intimidating, but you appreciate the effort.
“All right back it up lover boy.
No no, farther than that. far enough that i don’t smell your lack of personal space.”
Spider tugs at your wrist, shooing Makeyo away.
You groan, smacking  spider with your tail.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Makeyo.”
Makeyo nods, waving awkwardly to spider and lo’ak before making his exit.
“Uh huh. Keep it moving.”
Lo’ak ushers him away and you hiss at both of them.
“Hey. Dumb and dumber. what the fuck?”
You glare.
Spider throws his hands up in surrender, shaking his head.
“I don’t like that guy, sis.”
The three of you start making your way back towards the sully tent for the night.
You bickered the whole way.
Spider sighs,pointing his thumb in the opposite direction. 
“All i’m saying is, big mac over there-”
“His name is Makeyo.”
Spider shrugs.
“Same thing-
But anyways. I don’t like him.”
Lo’ak nods.
“He’s desperate. He wants you bad.”
You roll your eyes.
“Makeyo was just being nice.”
Lo’ak scoffs.
“Y/n, I love you. I really do. But if that’s nice, then flirting might mean getting you pregnant.”
Spider jumps and smacks the back of Lo’ak’s head, making him stumble and wince.
“Son of a bitch-
What was that for!?”
Spider glares at the taller blue boy. 
“Don’t jinx it! I’m not ready to be an uncle!?”
“Who’s going to be an uncle?”
Its the moment you hear Jake’s voice the three of you realize you’ve stumbled into the Sully's tent.
The three of you look at one another, then back at Jake.
Spider whistles, pointing to an imaginary watch.
“Oh boy. Would you look at the time? Time for me to go meet norm for dinner…I’ll catch you guys later.”
Lo’ak calls spider a bitch under his breath for abandoning the two of you two deal with the heap of awkwardness.
Jake resumes his task and Neytiri’s voice calls from inside.
“Lo’ak, Y/n. come on, its time to eat.”
You make your way inside, and Neytiri and Kiri come into view, steaming some meat over a fire.
Kiri waves and jogs her way over to give you a hug, her only slightly taller frame pressed against yours.
“Hey. how was your day?” She hums, tucking a braid behind your ear.
Kiri’s voice was melodic and soothing. It drips like the dew drops onto morning grass, kissed by the forest scent.
You go to answer, but before you can you’re body slammed by a smaller na’vi.
“Y/n! You’re back!”
It only takes a blink of an eye for you to open your arms for her, picking her up and putting her on your hip.
“Hey Tuk! How’s my sweet girl?”
Tuk giggles and nuzzles her head onto your neck.
Lo’ak rudley pushes his way between you and kiri.
“Excuse me, don’t i get a hug?”
He huffs dramatically, flipping his braids like some sort of diva.
“Of course you can, Ma’itan.” Neytiri appears behind him and kisses his head. You and the girls giggle and Lo’ak groans.
“Maaa. come on-”
He swats neytiri away and she chuckles, giving you a quick shoulder squeeze next.
“Did your lessons go okay today? How were the children?”
You take a seat next to Kiri, Lo’ak on your other side as Neteyam takes a seat next to Tuk, 
You nod in response to Neytiri as Jake hands everyone a piece of meat.
“Doing well. They are making progress. They are learning faster every day. I think they will be ready to try larger arrows soon. Possibly farther targets.”
Jake pats your back.
“Nice work, kiddo.”
“Speaking of targets...”
Lo’ak mumbles under his breath,you respond by smacking him with your tail.
“What?”
Kiri raises an eyebrow.
Lo’ak shrugs.
“Makino or whatever his name is was flirting with Y/n.”
Kiri smiles at you, gently shaking your shoulder.
“Makeyo? He is a fine warrior.”
You groan, not noticing how Neteyams ears pinned back slightly.
“Makeyo?”
His deep, accented voice pulls your focus towards where the boy sat.
All the sudden the space arounds you feels a bit shallow. Lo’ak answers for you.
“Oh yeah. He was really quite brave. He wouldn't have been so brave if he knew me and spider were planning to feed him to a thanator.”
Jake sighs.
“Must we plot a murder at the dinner table?”
Neytiri nods, swallowing her food and handing a piece of her fruit to Tuk.
“Your father is right. Besides, There is no rush for any of you to mate. Y/n, Makeyo would make a fine life partner but you need not decide anytime soon, my sweet.”
Tuk pipes up suddenly.
“Teyam is gonna be mated with kyuna!”
Neteyam nearly spits out his water, going into a coughing fit as he repeatedly brings his fist to his chest to attempt to stop it.
Jake immediately started patting his back, concerned.
“Jesus christ boy! Easy now, don’t forget to swallow.”
“You have chosen Kyuna?”
It comes out more bitter than you thought. The mere thought of another woman in his arms stinging an unfamiliar scorch in your chest,
Or maybe..it wasn’t so unfamiliar.
Neteyam finally breathes normally again and shake his head frantically.
‘“What? No! Of course not.”
“Kyuna? Really bro? Shes kinda a bitch…”
Lo’ak says, attempting to mask it with his own fake cough.
“Hey. Language.”
Jake scolds, pointing his knife he was using to cut Tuk’s meat with at Lo’ak.
“Its true though! She’s always hustling me to do her chores!”
Neytiri raises her eyebrow.
“If it happens repeatedly why do you keep falling for it?”
Lo’ak had no answer.
Kiri clicked her tongue.
“Y/n, didn’t you overrun Kyuna’s role for training the younger children.”
“Oh yeah! That's right! Y/n made her eat dust in that archery trial. No surprise there.”
You felt a small heat spread to your cheeks out of embarrassment.
“It wasn’t that big of a deal…”
Neytiri chuckles and Neteyam speaks up.
“so..Makeyo. You work with him?’
You nod.
“He helps me train the younger group of children. He’s actually quite helpful.
You didn’t notice the way neteyams ears pinned back slightly.
But Lo’ak did.
“Yeah. But he sucks at Ikran riding.” 
You raised your eyebrow. 
Come to think of it, You don’t think you ever saw him ride his ikran.
“He is?”
Lo’ak nods.
“He and Neteyam went hunting one time. The idiot crashed into a tree while neteyam swerved it easily.”
You can’t help but laugh at the image, and Lo’ak winked at neteyam.
☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ 
Authors note:
HOLY FUCKKKK! I’m finally done! This actually did not take as long as i thought it would. 
It’s not as long as the last chapter ya’ll i’m sorry. But hopefully the close times in which both were posted makes up for it?
We’re gonna get some kiri and y/n bonding time in next chapter and hopefully some more jealous neteyam. Btw what did we think of the neteyam pov? Leave some comments about it so i can know whether to add it in later.
Taglist:
@mntx666
@isnt-itstrange
@thebestrouge
@bay7let
@fairuzwhat
@jackiehollanderr
@6423btw
@satesatesate2009
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youcalledmebabe · 25 days
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my favorite bits of web lore from parachute infantry:
he was a new deal democrat and voted for the first time during the war. “I had to walk almost 2 miles to cast my ballot, but I would have walked 10, if necessary, because this was my first vote—I was 22 in June—and I had always wanted to cast it for Roosevelt, the greatest president we had ever had, and the only one who ever gave the working man a break.”
he describes Doc Roe as having “a warm, brave heart.” has anybody ever considered webroe…? there’s about as much basis for it as webgott, historically speaking 💀
he seemed to have lone wolf tendencies. “Actually, I was quite happy to be on my own. Looking out for myself was something I always liked to do. It was the one thing I could do better than anybody else.” 
he was sooo dramatic. “I should have known better than to dream, for whatever dreams I might have had all ended when I was sixteen, and had run away to Gloucester to ship out on a fishing schooner. The schooners were diesel hulks, so I went back to school. That was the way my dreams always ended. The army was no different.”
noted fan of springtime. “It’s going to be an early spring, I thought, feeling a great relief. Maybe things will be better now; they are always better in the spring.”
believed in/was spooked by the stories of a ghost horse cart following them around the front. “It must be the ghost that’s followed us through Europe, I thought with a shiver, for the sound did not seem wholly real—who would have the nerve to walk a horse drawn wagon along the front in a city under such heavy artillery fire? …Some of the men used to speculate about it. They thought that it was the ghost of a supply cart that had gotten a direct hit, and that the driver was homesick for his old outfit. So every night he’d come back and visit his buddies on the line.” apparently Nixon also believed this… where my ghost story fics at?
allergic to change: “The essence of life is change, not stability, but I can’t get used to it; I want everything to stay the way it is.”
thinks the reason lieb is the way he is is because “he was from the far west.” he and joe actually have very little interaction at all and he doesn’t have much to say about him. Tom Hanks rpf is fine strikes again
was drunk on iced tea and gin all the time at the end of the war
gets so mad about doing a final parade when his points came through that he “was in a mood to bayonet babies and roast both colonels over small fires.” immediately after that says what he “planned for peacock was unprintable.” this is the final time peacock is mentioned… guess they never made up
he really hated the army and the Nazis in a way that I feel like the show dropped by the final episode. like I think the real web would’ve shot the guy on the mountain. but that’s a discussion I’d like to have later
anyway he was smart and funny and a good writer and so full of life and i’m very sad about what happened to him
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purpleyoonn · 1 year
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enchanted
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P R O L O G U E 
“I’ll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you.”
summary: The realm under King Min’s rule had been under war for over. thirty years, a war within the inhuman species with origins no one knows. Your presence was brought into awareness when found by the king under the rubble of your home. You are plunged into a world you had only ever seen from the outside, and don’t know how long you can last.
genre: soulmate au, fantasy au, dragon au, 
pairing: Dragon King Yoongi x Human MC
status: ?
warnings: starts in the middle of war, violence, angst, death, supernatural creatures, more to come.
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The river was freezing when you got up that morning, basket of cloths in hand to wash. It had been your chore for a couple of weeks now, ever since Mela’s body was found at the bottom of the hill. She had been working with you at the manor for a couple of years now, another “stray” taken in by Lord Ahn and his family. She also wasn’t the first to be found, others found at the same dip in the bottom of the hill.
You and a couple of the others had taken on her chores along with the ones you already had, meaning you barely got any sleep lately. Not to mention the nightmares you had. You and your friend Lila had been the ones to find her, body mangled from being pushed down the hill. When you had told the Lord of the manor, he just smiled and told you to get back to work.
It was nearly springtime, meaning the water was going to be getting warmer, and more of your chores would be done outside. You loved the spring, all the flowers blooming and the sounds of the woods to drown out the sound of your mind. Your thoughts were always loud, overthinking and replaying different memories. Your mind never seemed to shut off, always loud and all-encompassing.
You had a hard time keeping still, your mind and body needing to do something. That was why you liked working outside the house whenever you got the chance. Whenever you were inside, you had to be still, someone seen and not heard. That was normal for women, especially those who worked for Lord Ahn.
Mr. Ahn liked looking. His eyes always wandered when he was home. He only employed the girls in the manor, the men working outside. You had once been tasked with cleaning the upper portion of the manor, where the family resided, when you first started working to “pay for your stay”. He watched you the entire time, silent as he did.
You shook your head as you got out the soap from the bottom of the basket, rubbing against the washing board you had rested against the side of the river. You had to be quick, quiet as you worked. The woods were becoming increasingly dangerous over the past couple months. Stories of trolls and ghouls making their travels to the neighboring villages. You didn’t want to alert anyone or anything of your presence.
You had your own stories, your home destroyed by a horde of giants set loose, smashing everything they could. Your parents and sister had been crushed by one of their feet, running from the market. Which is what got you here to the manor, the Lord’s family “happily willing” to take you in.
You didn’t want to think that you could lose another home at the hands of the witches. The Queen had become angry with the kingdom, setting lose her minions on the land, killing and pillaging wherever they could. Reanimated bodies were their favorite thing. The ghouls seemed to be popping up all over the kingdom, and it seemed as though the King or his guards were doing nothing about it.
When you were in school, you remember learning about the Witches, how their Queen was angry with your King, some broken promise, and that since then, she had taken that anger on his realm. Your teacher had tried to drill into your head that your safety was only ensured if you remained silent, something that stuck with you, even to this day.
“Y/n!” You turned your head, seeing Taemin coming to a stop, leaning on his tree to catch his breath. “Are you almost done? Lord Ahn is wanting all of us to come back to the manor. He seems upset.” Your eyes widen in fear, scrambling to gather the half-washed clothes and washing board, getting to your feet.
“Do you have any idea what happened?” You asked your friend as both ran back up the hill and to the manor.
“No. All I heard was that Jeongmin can rushing out of his room with bruises all over her face.” You sigh out, knowing he could be mad at anything. Poor Jeongmin just had to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. You wonder if she refused him, even with you and the other girls telling her to go along with it for her own safety.
Lord Ahn was known for his anger; the entire village knew it. No one was to speak of it though, for fear of repercussions on their own families. The word ‘no’ was the one thing none of the servants could say to him, not if they wanted their life to remain in their bodies.
“Well, let’s hurry. We don’t want to give him any more reasons.” You breathe out, picking up your pace with a tight hold on the basket.
When you get to the manor and move through the kitchen, placing your basket on the floor by the door, you both rush to your position in line in the hall, right at the end where your faces could be seen, eyes on the floor.
“Now, it seems to me that some of you…” You listen for the uptick in tone, knowing that Lord Ahn was really upset about something now. “think you can have a relationship within my house.” Oh no…. now you know why Jeongmin was all bruised up. She confessed.
You wince as you could hear her whimper, your body tensing as footsteps move closer to where you were. You knew there had been a couple of relationships going on within the household, particularly the one with Taemin and Yujin. You hoped that they weren’t the relationship he was talking about.
“You all know the rules, that I don’t expect much when you come into my household.” Lord Ahn’s voice had become deeper, darker as he spoke making your breath hitch, trying not to move.
Lord Ahn was now almost in front of you, about to say something else when the sirens from the village square went off, announcing the presence of non-humans. You move forward, ready to run when Lord Ahn catches you, his hand on your chest, keeping you from moving.
“Now, now. Since I’m sure all of you have been keeping these… secrets from me, you can stay here. Keep the house in order, as I’m sure nothing is truly going on.” You gape at the man, watching his smile turn into a dark smirk as his gaze turns to you.
“Min, Jung, help my family to the carriage. Kim, younger Kim, gather all the materials necessary and put them in the boot.” His hand is still on your chest as he barks out the orders, watching from his peripheral as the men he called forward move to do as he said.
“Sir,” You bite out, “What about the women?”
“Well, why don’t you continue your chores?” He squeezed once, before moving away and down the hallway.
Turning around, you watch him, mouth open in shock, the siren still ringing throughout the village. Feeling a hand grasp onto your shoulder, you turn back around, seeing Hana pull you back. Her gaze was soft, knowing how the sirens make you feel.
“Let’s just hope that it’s nothing. Come with me, we can finish the laundry in the sink.” Hana helps you walk forward, everyone else moving back to their chores. Once in the kitchen you pick up the laundry basket form the floor, noticing that the cabinets and pantry have been cleaned out.
“Did they take all of the food?” You ask, concern dripping from your lips as you think about being locked in the house with no food.
“It appears so. But don’t worry, I don’t think they touched the servant’s quarters.” Hana reassures you. You sigh out, moving to the sink where Hana has gotten some water. You empty your basket again, moving the washing board into the sink and then soap bar.
You hear the siren again, this time closer to the manor, swearing you could almost hear some screams mixed in. You chose to follow Hana’s lead, hoping that she was right about everything. You go through the motions, scrubbing the sheets with the soap and brush.
A scream has you dropping the brush from your grasp, the wooden handle making a clang as it hits the floor.
“Stay here.” Hana holds her hand up at you, motioning you to stay where you were. You do so, heart beating fast as you hear another scream cry out. You choose not to listen, moving through the back of the kitchen and down the hall to the servant’s quarters.
From there you can see through the narrow windows used for light. There were people running everywhere, people being pushed to the ground and having chunks bitten out of them by gray, almost see-through creatures.
Ghouls, you thought, eyes widening in horror as you watch a couple ghouls begin to move towards the manor. You look through the room, trying to see if you could find anything to defend yourself with, trying to ignore the screams that came from within the manor.
If these really were ghouls you were dealing with, there was nothing you could do to save anyone.
You could feel your cheeks becoming wet, trying to find a way to get out of the servant’s quarters without going back into the manor, as you still look for something that could create fire. You begin to freak out, flashbacks to the giants and the screams of terror as you hear the screams of now moving closer to where you were.
However, it gets silent quickly, the only noise heard is the sound of your breathing. Holding your hand over your mouth, you try to listen for anything else, only hearing the sound of something dragging across the floor. The crackling of something in the walls also catches your attention. It becomes louder and louder until suddenly; you were on the ground.
Everything seemed to be moving too fast for your mind to catch up with. You couldn’t feel your legs, but you could move them, somewhat. You felt like you had a huge weight on you and you could feel heat licking at your skin. 
As your eyes begin to adjust, you could see the body of the ghoul who was still trying to get to you, and the fire that was now spreading over the rest of the manor, inching your direction.
Your wits come back to you; survival instincts kick in as a loud roar is heard with a gust of wind keeping the fire from reaching you. Despite that, you try all you can to move the pieces of the roof from anchoring your body to the wreckage of the manor before that ghoul can get to you.
It didn’t matter to you that he was also buried under the remnants of the roof, you needed to get away. You blinked hard, rapidly as you tried to remove your tears from obstructing your vision. Using all your might, you tried to push the roof off of you, grunting as you failed again and again.
Another loud roar had you scrambling even faster, trying with all your strength to get out from under the rubble. Before you could get your leg out, the heavy material was yanked off of you, a growl as your bruised legs were visible.
You look up in horror, only to see who you recognize at King Min staring down at you, his eyes red and his fangs visible as he looks at you. Your frozen in place, unable to move as his red eyes pierce your soul and keep you still.
It’s only a couple of seconds before the King lunges for you, making your close your eyes in fear. Arms wrapping around you and picking you up from the rest of the roof and walls of the servant’s quarters.
“Please...” You whimper, not knowing what the King was going to do with you, only for him to place a hand behind your head, pushing so your head was rested against the juncture between his neck and shoulder.
One little word has you blinking away even more tears, a slew of emotions moving through you as you take it in. Your finger gripping tight into his button up shirt, the buttons almost popping loose from how tightly you hold onto it.
King Min moves quickly, walking out of the rubble and into the trees, a clearing by the river coming into the view as he shifts, his wings breaking out from the back of his shirt, the rest of his shirt now loose in your grip as he begins to fly away, to a place unknown to you. You were only focused on what he had growled out when he picked you up.
“Mate.”
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scotianostra · 18 days
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May 17th is Norwegian Constitution Day or Syttende Mai as its known in Norway.
A wonderful spring holiday celebrated with red, white and blue ribbons, national costumes and waving of the Norwegian flag, the three colours are everywhere in Norway at this time of year.
It’s a day Norwegians all over the world take off to celebrate and marks the historic signing of the Constitution in 1814, the year Norway gained its independence from Sweden, which was fully realized in 1905.
In every city, town and village in Norway, children and adults alike express their cultural pride by marching to the bright music of school bands, celebrating the joy of springtime and honoring of those citizens who created Norway’s constitutional government, founding her independence.
Especially popular is the Children’s Procession that brings every child out in their best clothes or national costume.
In Edinburgh the Norwegian community celebrate Syttende Mai too.
Edinburgh’s celebrations include the Norwegian Scottish Society dinner, after a reception at the Norwegian Consulate’s residence.
Each year Norwegian students in Edinburgh hold a breakfast at Prestonfield House followed by a parade along Waterloo Place and onto Princes Street. At the boom of Edinburgh Castle’s One o’ clock gun, the pigeons fly and the parade begins!
Tonight expats and guests gather at The Royal Scots Club Abercromby Place for a celebration dinner held by the Norwegian Scottish Association. The association was founded in Edinburgh in 1966, and has enjoyed over 50 years of Norwegian-Scottish friendship.
Norwegian Scottish Association roots lie in a much older friendly society, one rooted in the shared experience of Norwegians and Scots during the Second World War. Founded in Dumfries in 1941, the Scottish Norwegian Society brought Scots and Norwegians together in difficult times. Having escaped the German occupation of their homeland in 1940, around a thousand Norwegians had come to be stationed at various times in Dumfries, and it was not long before the idea of a formal society was begun.
Of course our history with Norway goes back centuries, Northern Scotland, was, at one time, a Norse domain and the Northern Isles experienced the most long-lasting Norse influence. Almost half of the people on Shetland today have Viking ancestry, and around 30% of Orkney residents.
Many agree that there are many points of commonality between the Norse character and the Scottish one that leads to a sense of kinship between the two countries, even for those living much further south in Scotland, where Viking influence did not reach. Words like bairn and muckle made their way into Scot’s language via the Norwegians.
I touched upon the links during the second world war earlier and have posted before about the Shetland bus which provided a transport link between the Shetland Islands and occupied Norway. Many Norwegian refugees fled their occupied home with the help of Norwegian sailors who undertook daring, high-risk trips across the North Sea. The whole episode became emblematic of the friendship across the seas.
More recently Edinburgh’s Zoo also has a strong connection to Norway as it is home to a very special resident. Sir Nils Olav III is the mascot and colonel-in-chief of the Norwegian King’s Guard. The king penguin’s rank has been passed down through three generations since 1972. Knighted in 2008, he even received a military promotion in 2016 with the brigadier title bestowed upon him in a special ceremony at the zoo.
The Zoo’s link with Norway originated in 1913 when arctic explorer Roald Amundsen presented a penguin to them on their opening. Once a year the penguin inspects soldiers from Norway’s King’s Guard.
Edinburgh's Syttende mai parade – the 17th May or Norwegian Constitution Day parade traditionally takes place along the capital's main thoroughfare, Princes Street. At the boom of Edinburgh Castle's 'one o' clock gun', the pigeons fly and the parade begins!
Pics are from last ears parade.
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In which we take a rare venture out of the station, in order to see how 22 does with his big break!
P.S. Shoutout to those of you who saddled me with Dick Tartt; this one's for you.
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feelrush · 4 months
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JADE CITY.
— dialogue prompts from jade city by fonda lee.
“what’s going on? you seem out of sorts tonight.”
“send me the bill for the damage. i’ll take care of it.”
“tell me, my friend. have you had any other trouble around here lately?”
“sitting out here alone? something the matter?”
“how am i still alive when they’re all dead?”
“what did you come for at this hour, anyway? spit it out.”
“you should have killed that man!”
“i fell asleep waiting for you, and in return you scare the shit out of me. where were you?”
“you’re the most important thing in the world to me.”
“i’ve forgotten the past. everything’s forgiven, now that you’re back.”
“ah, what to choose, pain or failure?”
“where are you taking me?”
“cancel the rest of the day’s meetings. i’ll be in my office.”
“wait here and don’t move until you’re called.”
“i’m sure you’re wondering why you’ve been brought here.”
“may i… ask a candid question?”
“i’ll wait for an answer, but not for long.”
“you have to pay attention every fucking second because i can’t always be there if there’s trouble, understand?”
“sometimes the old ways are not without wisdom.”
“can you drive? can you handle a gun?”
“i keep seeing you, but i don’t know your name.”
“do you have anything to drink? it’s still hot inside.”
“whatever it is you decide to do, i’ll support you. i’ve told you that before, and it hasn’t changed.”
“i’m afraid i’m paying you this visit out of a sense of great concern.”
“there needs to be a balance of power.”
“what do they think we are? hired thugs?”
“why the fuck are you here?”
“i knocked but you must not have heard me.”
“you look as if you could use a massage.”
“i visit here too often; it’s not safe for you.”
“i have a gun, and i know how to use it. i won’t be a burden. i can take care of myself.”
“we’ll talk about this later.”
“from now on, i’ll be sure to call out hello to you when i’m still well out of knife range.”
“what can i do to help?”
“if anyone tried to kill you, you deserved it.”
“what is wrong with you? you don’t know who you are anymore.”
“give me your blessing, or condemn me, but don’t wash your hands of me.”
“not ready to die yet. gonna quit while i’m ahead.”
“you work for me now, you understand?”
“i’m disappointed you didn’t accept my offer.”
“we can plan a wedding, a big one. pick a date. i was thinking soon—springtime, what do you think?”
“you can do anything else you want, but not this.”
“it’s not that i think you’re boring. it’s just that keeping watch over you isn’t all that exciting, you know.”
“and here i was, starting to think all our meetings were because you were working up to hitting on me.”
“where and how did you fuck up?”
“risk your own life how you like, but leave me alone to live mine.”
“i’m not a coward.”
“i’ve never asked you for anything, but i’m asking you now, to keep this secret.”
“you do a good job, you make a big impression, show just how valuable you can be—that’s when we talk for real.”
“you were fantastic out there tonight.”
“do you want to get something to eat? we can do it another time if you’d rather go out with your friends tonight.”
“please don’t kill him.”
“must you leave so soon? come back to bed. stay the night.”
“heaven help me. i’m going to kill them all.”
“betrayal, murder, and war have a way of ruining one’s plans.”
“i could still kill him for you.”
“i can kill my ex-boyfriends myself.”
“don’t look like that. like you think i’m disappointed in you when i’m not.”
“i couldn’t sleep and wondered if you’d be kind enough to join me for a cup of tea.”
“it’s been a long day, and i don’t think i’d be very good company right now.”
“but what’s the value of silly pride compared to doing what’s best for the people one loves?”
“expectations are a funny thing. when you’re born with them, you resent them. when you’ve never been given any, you feel the lack of them your whole life.”
“people are cruel. don’t tempt them with arrogance.”
“so long as i live, i’ll never turn my back on a friend.”
“get out of my sight! i never want to see you again!”
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astralexpressarchives · 8 months
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Bird Symbolism on the Xianzhou
This all started with a question I asked my friend: "Well, have you ever seen a bird on the Xianzhou?"
Birds have played a major role in my very autistic investigations of Xianzhou lore. My intuition just knew that they were important so I started cataloguing every instance of birds appearing on the Xianzhou. I'll start with the more common appearances and then delve into the more obscure ones.
I would also like to preface this by saying I am not a bird scientist nor am I particularly interested in birds outside of the context of HSR. I simply noticed there were some repeating patterns and really wanted to make note of them.
So here's all the times I've seen a bird on the Xianzhou.
The Boring Ones
Sky-faring Commission/Starskiff Bird Symbol
This bird shows up all over the Xianzhou on buildings and signage. It is used on the signs indicating starskiffs but honestly can show up anywhere. Large associations with the sky-faring commission. Highly likely it is inspired by the white bird later in the post.
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Jing Yuan's Finches
Another really obvious one as most people are familiar with his finches. As far as I know, they only appear in relation to Jing Yuan and don't seem to have any meaning outside of sheer vibes.
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Before Dawn Lightcone:
"Do not make this decision lightly, general... Think about how you will be remembered in history..." The general of the Cloud Knights listens to his subordinates' words with eyes half-closed. "History will make its own judgment, but I have no interest in my legacy." "If I succeed, history will state that I am currently supremely confident in my masterful strategy." "But if I fail, then history will state that I am currently neglecting my duties in wanton pleasure, preferring finches over my people." A finch jumps down from his shoulder, and he extends his hand to catch the small creature. "I have simply made my own decision."
Yukong's Kestral
Similar to the bird that appears on Yanqing, Yukong's Kestral is a symbol that is connected to her beloved Caiyi.
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Past and Future Lightcone:
The wings of the paper kite in her hands were broken, brutally reminding her of her beloved's tragic passing. She kneeled next to the fire of war, eyes full of sorrow. "If you are the only one left to do this, then our sacrifice would..." Gunfire raged on, painting the sky red without dampening its majesty. She looked up at the sky, eyes full of fury.
Edit: Qingque and Phoenix
These aren't related to anything as far as I can tell but there is also this bird that appears on Qingque's outfit.
There's also a phoenix that shows up in the Palace of Astrum and again in the Seven Arbiter Generals myriad. It may be something related to the history of the Xianzhou (the planet they came from in particular) because it appears on each of those panels outlining the backstory.
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The Fun Ones
Yanqing's Swallow
Now starting to get into the territory of birds that are actually pretty interesting to the lore. The swallow is a bird that is literally everywhere on Yanqing. The painting is found near the Petrichor Inn. - this is significant because the Petrichor Inn has strong associations with the Vidyadhara. The also appear on the handle of his sword and in his splashart.
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River Flows in Spring Lightcone:
The young boy took a short break from his sword practice. The sunlight was baking his already heated neck. He slowly got into the water, whose coldness touched his bare feet. When the bell chimes and birds tweet, even the people far away would know that springtime had arrived.
The Water Birds
Repeated appearance of birds made of water both in relation to Yanqing and found in cages in the Vidyadhara section of the Xianzhou. I believe these are some kind of spirit birds similar to the water creatures that swim through the Scalegorge Waterscape and Dan Heng's own azure dragon. These are probably similar to the Oceanids of Genshin Impact where they actually contain souls that take whatever shape they want in the water - probably the souls of dead Vidyadhara if I had to guess. Why are they being caged and sold around the Xianzhou in Vidyadhara areas? I have literally no idea at this point.
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Yanqing has these ice swallows appear during his attacks. There's a recurring theme of swords containing souls in Xianxia stories which is also loosely connected to the concept of Blade's sword graveyard in the Hellscape. I think Yanqing's ice birds are somehow souls similar to the water birds caged around the Xianzhou.
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The uber weird part about all of this is how at the end of Yanqing's ultimate you see this image. In the background of the image are the mountains associated strongly with the Vidyadhara and Dan Heng in particular.
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I don't know what this means for Yanqing right now but he is an expy of a pre-existing character from Honkai Impact 3rd: Ma Yanqing. They probably have some plan for him that isn't immediately apparent right now but I would like to point out that his grandmaster, Jingliu, is also heavily associated with the mountain moon realm and can also summon a sword made of water/ice. This does not appear to be a technique known by anyone else and Jingliu herself needed to defeat the abomination in order to acquire her singular ice sword.
The Crane
Appearing initially only on Dan Feng's clothing, the crane has made a comeback in the new Cloud Knights Martial Doctrine, On Swords myriad trailer. They are significant because the also appear among the mountain realm and the moon. Notice the association Jingliu, Yanqing, and Dan Heng in particular.
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The Black Bird
So not all the birds in this picture are distinctly black but their colour is ambiguous and they are similarly shaped so I'm lumping them together. They all appear in association with the mountain area - Blade's sword graveyard is also in the mountain area. The top right picture is from Dan Heng's first fansong.
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The White Bird
Not sure what species of bird this is supposed to be but there's a white bird that appears repeatedly in association with the mountain realm. More specifically, it appears among the clouds and may freely travel from the Scalegorge to the Mountains through the hole in the clouds. Bottom left is from Blade's fansong. I think these birds may represent souls and the dead in the same way that Blade's spiderlilies and swords do.
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There's also this bird above the realm-keeping commission that I'm unsure how to categorize because of it's unique shape but it's also among the mountains and moon.
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Edit: Dan Shu's Bird
This one is actually important for the spirit bird concept. In the Longevous Disciple relic set she tells us of a story that inspires her:
According to the legend, a certain delvemaster saved her partner by placing their soul into a bird, granting them immortality. However, she eventually could not resist the call of the avian and also transformed into a bird, flying alongside them. Over time, the delvemaster became confused and lost her true form, becoming a half-feathered, half-human monster. When her subjects stormed the palace and pierced her with blazing spears and arrows, the two birds sang a final mournful song and turned to ashes together. She loved this story so much that she took the essence and marrow of birds and transformed them in the alchemical furnace, then had someone weave these materials into a luxurious feather coat. She could not see just how beautiful the coat was, but nonetheless enjoyed walking around the house while wearing it — it was meant to be seen by a person who no longer existed. As the garb fluttered, she always felt that a bird-like soul was flying and passing through her hands and shoulders, ever-present.
It's not clear how much of the legend is actually true but it could be inspired by the spirit birds.
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I think I've said just about everything that I wanted to say. I'm curious if anyone else has any thoughts on the birds. I've listed most of them but there are one or two paintings I left out from fear of repetition.
I have a lot of additional Thoughts about the birds but I'll leave that for another post.
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apollosgiftofprophecy · 4 months
Note
your biggest headcano about Apollo (RRverse and none) ?
I'll give you one each :3
RRVERSE APOLLO
At the time of the RRverse, Apollo's favorite brother is not who you may think it is.
I personally think his favorite brother is...Ares :3
Why? BECAUSE I SAY SO :D
also the Older/Younger bro potential here is just Perfection. Very excited for the fic I have for them <3
MYTH APOLLO
He is totally BFFs with;
Aphrodite
Persephone
Athena
You can't make him chose who is his #1 BFF (scratch that - Artemis holds that title. You can't make him chose his SECOND BFF). He adores all of them.
He and Aphrodite literally watched Ares and Hector tear people apart on the battlefield, probably drinking the Greek equivalent of mimosas and doing each other's hair! They are the hottest god and goddess respectively and absolutely know all the trends of Greece - like, have you SEEN the paintings, sculptures, and such of Apollo? HE IS A FASHIONISTA. AND THEY BOND OVER IT.
Also Apollo saved Aeneus, Aphrodite's son, so... :) They besties <3
He and Persephone hang out a lot in the springtime because that's when they BOTH return to Greece from Hyperborea/the Underworld! They exchange gossip (and do each other's hair) and silently judge the newest scandal on Olympus.
He and Athena bond over learning new things and crafts!!!! :D and doing each other hair (Athena is the goddess of weaving of course she can do hair!) They weave! They do pottery! Athena is self-conscious about her music ability but opens up a bit more around Apollo!!! They stayed cordial during the Trojan War! but their relationship did fray when Athena hid Troilus's murder from Apollo.
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manymanydolls · 2 months
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Emily Returns to England!
After spending time away in the United States, Emily Bennett has made her way back to London this spring. She hopped a plane with me on my way to study abroad, and she’s so excited to be back! I made her a special trousseau to commemorate the occasion. Let’s see what’s packed!
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Emily made the trip across the Atlantic in her big wool coat. The coat is from Kit’s collection, but Emily is borrowing it for now- springtime in London can still get pretty chilly, so the extra warmth is more than welcome.
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She has her dress gifted to her by Aunt Prim- she loves its cheery flowers and adorable cherry print.
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Emily’s red floral blouse has pintucks on the sleeves and two big tortoiseshell buttons, and her teal skirt matches the little flowers on her blouse.
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When VE Day arrives, Emily can celebrate in her yellow floral dress with tiny brown buttons and gold trim. Emily’s clothing would probably be part of the Utility Clothing Scheme, introduced in 1941 in the effort to counteract inequalities in access to clothing. CC41 clothes used less material and were price controlled to help everyone afford new clothes during rationing.
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Earlier in the war, during the Blitz proper, Emily might’ve worn a siren suit- a warm one-piece garment designed to be quickly pulled on over the pajamas and keep the wearer cozy and covered during the nightly air raids. Emily’s story is technically not set during the Blitz, as that occurred from September 1940 to May 1941, with smaller and more sporadic bombing raids afterward; rather, her time is during the so-called Baby Blitz, in which the Germans used V-1 flying bombs and later V-2 rockets to cause relatively less damage to London than in previous years from January to May 1944. After the final air raid in March 1945, Emily could kiss the siren suit goodbye.
Emily is so glad to be back at home, and hopes to spend many sunny days ahead enjoying England!
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izvmimi · 1 month
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All Roads Lead to Love? - Chapter V
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cw: none. please see general fic warnings. Masterlist
When you sit down in front of Izuku, face to face and attention solely set on him for the first time in years, your hands set around a warm cup of coffee, you find that instead of being unsure of what words to say to begin your story, you have possibly too much to say.
How have you been? What has this life been like for you? You’re now more than human in the eyes of so many, how do you still find the time to protect your privacy and cherish your loved ones?
Have you changed? Who are you now that you’re an adult and no longer the scrawny, smiley kid with too much on his shoulders I once loved?
Izuku has a double espresso, the cup tiny in his large hands, and is waiting intently for you to speak. He’s outgrown so much of his old self, third year of high school having already done such a number on him he was practically unrecognizable, and now with age and responsibility further sharpening his features. Remarkably, his eyes are still the same. You see them constantly, in newspapers, on tv and phone screens and billboards, and had spent a lot of time blurring him out of your peripheral vision, up until a child came out of the blue and presented you five routes that led unwaveringly to the same path -
- those eyes, constantly looking at you with love. 
Right now, as Izuku watches you, lips slightly parted with bated breath, they appear soft with a warm hue to them, like a grassy meadow in springtime, and you wonder if it’s just a reflection of the sunlight through the window next to which you’re seated. Maybe the narratives you’ve read have gotten to your very core and painted him with just enough affection, softened your heart into longing. This is a man who loves other versions of you. 
He’s handsome, he’s sweet, and yet you don’t know him anymore, and that’s of your own doing.
Izuku says your name again, gently as though he’s not allowed to utter it without permission, and you bite your lip in nervous anticipation. You blink, then laugh to yourself, your hands tight around your cup.
“If you feel uncomfortable, maybe later-” Izuku starts, letting his voice trail off once you shake your head. 
“It’s better if I just spill now,” you insist. 
He nods and takes a sip of his coffee. You clear your throat.
“I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I run a clinic for unmanaged Quirks.”
He knows that very well; he’s had more than a few rescues be sent to your hospital plus you’ve been featured in a few news articles and publications yourself, even if you’re humble, even if you stay out of the limelight.
“Mm,” he offers. You continue. 
“A little boy came in and his Quirk was kind of incredible really,” you pause, and you remember how the two of you would get excited when discussing the strangest of Quirks, having silent competitions of who could find out the weirdest thing that’s ever happened, poring over his notebooks together. You wonder if he still has the ones with your markings in them, your imperfect circles and scribbles. 
“He generated what looked like five clones of me.”
Izuku nods again, but nothing you’ve said is surprising. Cloning is a relatively common ability, in fact it was one of the most terrifyingly prominent ones during the meta war over a decade ago.
“The issue with these clones is that they weren’t… perfect copies, and they seemed to be-” you pause, then twist your mouth to the side. Izuku has leaned in, and you can see he’s concentrating on every word on your lips. “- versions of me from other universes.”
“Huh,” is all he says, and you can feel yourself growing embarrassed. If he thinks this is ridiculous already, what you have to say next won’t be at all palatable. He shifts, and his hand is now around his chin as he thinks. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of something like that, but I guess anything’s possible.”
You nod. “I’m guessing you’re wondering what this has to do with you,” you start. Your throat dries up slightly as you say the next part and then you cough slightly, and Izuku quickly presents you with a napkin, resisting the urge to lightly tap your back.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Yes.”
Izuku watches you recompose yourself.
“So, the reason why is, in all five universes, we were… somewhat romantically involved in various ways.”
Izuku’s eyes grow wide suddenly, and you look away, your heart pounding and you imagine you look a mess, immediately flustered by the thought of essentially admitting you have a crush, or at least at some point did or have the capacity to, to this man you barely know now.
“I know it sounds really strange and it doesn’t mean anything-” you mumble, but he suddenly speaks up, and you look at him.
He’s… excited? His eyes have lit up in a way that almost unnerves you. 
“That’s so fascinating,” he practically chirps. You look at him in surprise, and he grins. “What an amazing Quirk, and how different were their lives, how do you know that they were all you?”
You blink, your body cooling as you watch him in awe.
He doesn’t care, you realize. Not in that way, anyway. A different type of embarrassment washes through you quickly as your blood turns cold, like you’ve been dunked in water, but you don’t gasp. Instead you force a smile on your face.
“I had them write about their lives up to now and compared them painstakingly. They… really are me, just with slightly different lives… some of their temperaments were different, but I can truly honestly say, they were me from different branch-points of time up to now.”
“Could I potentially meet one, or the kid?” His eyes sparkle with the question, fingers twitching practically as he rests them on the table.
Izuku has always been odd, but this is somewhat endearing, if unexpected.
“Well I.. I don’t think I can have you meet the kid for privacy reasons, and the clones disappeared after an hour.”
He frowns, rubbing his chin again, then lets his thumb rest against his lower lip. You notice the nails are bitten down to the quick, irregular nail beds in addition to the swollen knuckles. He hasn’t gotten rid of that habit, even though you’d both promised to stop biting your nails as high schoolers after you’d teased him for being just like you. 
The last time you bit your nails was during your final year medical school exams.
“I’ll take your word for it then.” He pauses, then looks back at you.
“Were we married in one of them?” he asks suddenly. He says it so casually it almost stuns you before you eke out a ‘yes’.
He smiles. 
“I’m glad. I hope that me treats that you well.”
Your heart skips a beat, or several, and you have lost words to say again. He fills in the space for you with a chuckle.
“So I can imagine your boyfriend knows and doesn’t like that I married you in some other lifetime, huh?” he asks. His look is playful now, a very slight, almost imperceptible, mischievous curve to the smile on his face.
“Multiple actually,” you correct, but you’re starting to laugh too. It is ludicrous, completely, that you’re in this coffee shop together, based on a possibility. There are probably millions of lifetimes where you’re with someone else, even Akira, or potentially alone and satisfied. “It’s weird that they were all you, but I guess that’s just a freak coincidence.”
You laugh again, then notice that Izuku’s laughing a little less heartily this time. He takes another sip then sets the cup down again, slightly less carefully this time.
He takes a deep breath. 
“It’s probably not completely a coincidence, given the fact that I always…” he pauses, then pushes ahead anyway, “liked you back then.”
Your blood runs cold again as he watches you and takes in your discomfort. What registers on your face is one thing, but conflicting emotions swirl inside of you repeatedly, as you take in what he said.
He always did like you back. He must mean as a friend. You were good friends.
You decide to play along. “Yeah, I liked you too, we had so much fun together back then.”
You can see a flicker of a frown on his face, and then he smiles again. He knows you’re refusing to believe he means ‘like’ in the sense of someone who has chosen you in five separate instances, and he wonders if he should insist on it, if it even matters.
“Back then, I had wished it was me, ___. That you liked… That’s what I mean.”
Your breath hitches. Izuku himself can feel his heart start to race and the tips of his ears go warm and pink. His lips part, something left to say, and you can feel your stomach turn. 
He liked you the whole time, and yet…
You’re sixteen again, and you can see Izuku and Ochaco at the edge of a cliff, standing side by side. You’re seventeen, and you can see Izuku catching up to you and waving enthusiastically, his smile drooping as his eyes lower to your hand in Akira’s. You’re eighteen and you see his sad smile as you tell the group of freshly graduated seniors that you don’t plan to join a hero agency, at least not just yet. You remember a text you never answered because you wished you hadn’t seen her kiss him on the cheek, years ago.
Hey, let’s keep in touch, okay?
Your phone rings suddenly before you can ask him anything else, disrupting the pregnant silence between you two.
It’s Akira again.
“You didn’t answer my text,” is the first thing Akira says. He sounds annoyed but it’s smothered in a layer of honeyed speech.
“Sorry, I was busy. I’m here with a… friend.”
You look at Izuku apologetically, who smiles politely and bows his exit, leaving a wad of bills on the table, ignoring you as you wave for him to keep his money, and as your lip quivers, you wonder if you’re making a mistake.
For yet another night, Izuku’s brain cannot settle enough for him to fall asleep. Perfectly still, he lays staring at the ceiling, ignoring the latent soreness from overtraining this evening, his mind racing endlessly with thoughts. 
He should be thankful it isn’t a nightmare that keeps him wide awake this time; instead of the faces of people he’s failed to save or disappointed, he sees what can only be described as pure domesticity -
Exchanging rings with you. Picking out a home to live in, smiles on your faces and keys in his right hand. Feeding a chubby-cheeked infant that looks a little bit like him and a little bit like you who desperately wants out of a high chair. His mother braiding your hair…
The pangs of jealousy of a him, for a few hims that are far more lucky than he is right now, but he knows better than anyone else that love is not forced, no matter how hard you try.
He wonders if he should hold out some hope, dispelling the thoughts of married life with you and focusing on how you looked earlier today speaking to him.
Unsure, embarrassed, awkward, but with a little bit of longing.
There is some lingering affection and he can’t discount it no matter how hard he tries to convince himself he’s only projecting.
If the other universes know you could one day love each other, it can be true in this one too.
Someday.
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